I'm meeting you at the theater at 6:30, is that okay?

Kurt, we already discussed this. It's okay.

No, please, don't say 'okay.'

Okay? Okay.

Please remind me of why I'm doing this.

Because you're my boyfriend, maybe?

So that's what we are. I wasn't sure of our title.

Is that ok—fine with you?

...yeah. That's more than fine.

J Just so you know, I have an 11 o'clock curfew.

What, I thought we were just going to see the movie?

You know that's not going to happen.

What, you don't want to watch? L

No, of course I do. I was just wondering if you wanted to go somewhere afterwards...

I'll think about it.

Great. I still can't believe I went a week without seeing you.

Well, we did correspond through the Book a few times...

Yeah, but that's different from seeing you in person. Talking to you...looking at you...kissing you...J

"Kurt? Phone away, please!" Rachel called from the front, thus ending Kurt's conversation with Blaine through text. Reluctantly, Kurt slipped it into his bag as he turned his attention to Rachel and Finn, who were about to perform a song together. His cheeks burned as some people turned to him, specifically Mercedes and Tina with huge grins on their faces. Kurt waved his hand at them angrily, and they turned around, their shoulders shaking with laughter. He sank in his chair and prepared himself for the couple's performance. He tapped his foot impatiently, looking up at the clock: just a little over 2 hours left. The only thing Kurt could think about was what he'd do once glee finished for the day:glee's probably going to get out within the next half-hour, and then I need to get home, shower, pick out a new outfit, brush teeth, rehearse what conversation might come up so I don't make a fool of myself...

At that moment, Rachel hit a particularly high note, so Kurt had no choice but to put his plans on hold. He did, however, feel his bag vibrate against his leg, signaling that he had received a text.

That boy is going to be the death of me, Kurt thought as he reluctantly resisted reaching down into the bag to read it and answer hisboyfriend.

"Excuse me, Kurt? Where do you think you're going?" Kurt cursed under his breath as he backed up into the kitchen, where Burt was standing with his arms crossed. He closed his fist tightly around his car keys. "You know what tonight is, right?"

"Yes, Dad," Kurt answered quickly, hoping that Burt would end this talk quickly so he could be early to his date with Blaine. Yes, he'd forgotten that it was an important night, but he needed to meet Blaine. He'd hardly gone through the week without seeing him.

"Well, why don't you tell me," Kurt did not like the tone in his father's voice. He also didn't like how he'd possibly have to explain why he wasn't going to be at the family dinner that Friday night, even though it was a family tradition. He hadn't found the time to tell Burt about him and Blaine.

Frankly, he was afraid to.

"It's Friday night dinner, and it's mandatory that I be here, blah blah blah. C'mon, can't you let me off for one night?" Kurt pleaded, checking the time. It was nearing 6 o'clock.

"What can be more important than eating dinner with me?" His father asked pompously.

"Maybe my relationship?!" Kurt shouted, and realized what he said after a second. He turned away and began to walk briskly towards the door.

"Relationship?!" He heard Burt call out as he shut the door. Kurt walked to his car and got in, hoping that his dad wasn't too upset.

He should be happy that I'm going out for once, Kurt thought gruffly,and that I have a love life. Kurt was surprised with how much he missed seeing Blaine, like the sun hadn't quite risen every day since they'd been with each other. It'll blow over at some point, Kurt thought, and drove away, feeling butterflies in his stomach at the thought of watching his favorite movie with Blaine.

"You have the remains of a popcorn kernel in your teeth," Kurt self-consciously closed his mouth, covering it in mortification, and tried to search for the offending food with his tongue. He looked away from Blaine, who was silently laughing at him and his embarrassment. They were sitting in Kurt's car after the movie, trying to figure out what to do with their extra three hours before he had to take Blaine home.

"Cut it out," Kurt said after started looking through his car for his spare floss. Blaine was watching him with interest and amusement.

"I guess we can get you to a dentist; this is pretty intense!" Blaine exclaimed as Kurt wound a string around his fingers and turned away to watch himself floss in the side mirror.

"Well, that was embarrassing," Kurt said bluntly as the debacle ended. He faced Blaine and bared his teeth. "Am I good?"

Blaine examined him in a ridiculous fashion, as if he was a dentist, and then leaned in and kissed him, unlike a dentist. He then grinned at Kurt as they broke off. "I think you're good, my friend."

"Why do I even bother with you, Blaine?" Kurt sighed at how strange he was acting.

"Maybe because you like me, Kurt," Blaine shifted in his seat so he was closer to Kurt, and patted his knee. "So, what can we do? Where can we go? We need to do something exciting, sine I'm about to fall asleep after that movie."

"I agree; I don't want to sleep after crying my eyes out." Kurt thought for a second, wondering what Burt was doing at that moment, whether he was sleeping.He's probably watching some game, Kurt thought, and then an idea struck.

"Hey Blaine, do you think...do you think it'd be okay if you could come and meet my dad? I mean," he recovered as Blaine's eyes widened, "he's watching some football game, and he's probably tired so he shouldn't be too bad. We could-he'll most likely let us go down in my room and we can...hang out," Kurt said, trying to make the offer more appealing.Introducing him might get me in less trouble as well, since he seemed pretty upset about it when I told him I was in a relationship.

"That sounds okay...I'll probably want to watch the game too, but spending time with you sounds a little better." Blaine sent Kurt a cocky smirk as Kurt put his car in drive.

"I'm going to kick you out of the car if you'd rather hang out with my dad than me!"

"You know that there's no one else I'd rather spend my time with, Kurt," Blaine soothed, and Kurt felt himself melt a little in his seat.

Kurt parked in his driveway, and signaled for Blaine to stay in the car. He wanted to warn Burt first so he wouldn't have another heart attack.

Butterflies fluttered feverishly in his stomach as he approached his house. He was sure that Burt would like Blaine. Hehadto. Kurt opened the front door and walked in; he saw Burt's bald head turn around and watch him amble towards him. Unsurprisingly, the TV was displaying a game between two football teams Kurt did not care about.

"Dad." Kurt said once he was standing in front of his father, who nodded for him to continue. "First, I want to say that I was sorry about before. That was wrong of me to act that way. To make it up to you, I want to define what I mean by 'relationship'." He gave the sign for Burt to wait a little bit and rushed back out to where Blaine was waiting.

"Okay, I think he's ready. Just...be you, you're charming enough on your own." Kurt said nervously as he stuck his head in the car. Blaine saluted Kurt obnoxiously and then got out of the car, kissing Kurt on the nose when he was finally standing adjacent to him.

"Do you think that'll charm him?" Blaine asked innocently as he wrapped his hand around Kurt's. Kurt rolled his eyes and dragged Blaine along. "Relax, Kurt," he said softly as they got closer and closer to the house, "your dad loves you, and supports you in every way. It'll work out, I promise." Kurt felt a swell of confidence at his boyfriend's encouragement.

"Shouldn't you be the one who's nervous, Blaine?" he asked as he opened the door.

"I'm not nervous when I'm with you," Blaine whispered, and they both stepped towards the couch, hand in hand. Burt then stood up and looked at both of them, his face blank.

"Dad, I'd like you to meet Blaine Anderson, my...boyfriend. Blaine, this is my father, Burt Hummel." Kurt toyed with the word on his tongue, still getting used to the term. His father's eyes finally lit up as he shook Blaine's hand.

"It's very nice to finally meet you, Blaine. It's interesting how your relationship turned out, right?" Burt grinned mischievously at Kurt, who was very confused.

"Mr. Hummel, I'm not sure if I understand what you mean," Blaine appeared to be on the same page as Kurt.

"Just because I met Mrs. Devon once, doesn't mean I've never spoken to her again," Burt laughed. Kurt's face heated up.

"Does that mean you knew about this the entire time?!" Kurt queried, returning to Blaine, who was giving him a questioning look.

"Maybe," Burt replied. "We'll talk about it later, Kurt. Now, I'm not sure if you two want to watch the game with me—rather, just you, Blaine, since Kurt will just complain about how they need to improve on the bulkiness of football uniforms—or do your own thing..."

"Can I show him my room?" Kurt piped up quickly, glad that his dad had changed the subject.

"Fine. I hope I can trust you two-"

"Yes, Dad, absolutely, we don't have to talk about that now either. We don't have to talk about it ever, actually!" Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand and led him to his room.

"Keep the door open!" They heard Burt call as they descended down the stairs into Kurt's room. Thankfully, Kurt had cleaned up the day before, so it was nice and neat. He let Blaine take in all of the decorations and nuances as he sat himself on his bed, awaiting a comment.

"So, what do you think?" Kurt asked.

"It's very you," Blaine said, examining the labels of his moisturizing kit. He turned to Kurt and then hesitantly joined him on the bed, grazing his hands along the bedspread. "It smells like you," he said quietly, and leaned in towards Kurt.

"My dad's upstairs," Kurt ducked his head a little, red staining his cheeks. Blaine cupped his face so he was looking up at him.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to, however, I don't think he'll hear us. Anyway, he has to understand that it's very difficult for me to not kiss you when you've just done something amazing."

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked as Blaine took his hands, tracing circles on them with his thumbs. They were sitting cross-legged, facing each other on the bed.

"Three things. You introduced me to the one man you care about the most, which that's a big deal. Two, you showed me your room, which, I don't know, I feel like it's a huge milestone."

"It's just a place that I stay in a lot. I don't see what the big deal is."

"That's exactly it. This is your room, where you keep all of your things and express who you are. I find it pretty intimate that you can reveal all of this to me," Blaine gave him that look again as he stared deep into his eyes.

"What's the third thing?"

"This." Blaine removed one of his hands; it disappeared behind his back for a few seconds as he searched for something Kurt couldn't see. There was a book in it—a book Kurt recognized all too well.

Blaine flipped open to the dog-eared page, muttering under his breath how bad that is for a book, but then softened as he saw what was on the page.

"'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?/ Thou art more lovely and more temperate/ rough winds do shake the darling buds of May/ And summer's lease hath all too short a date./ Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines/ and often is his gold complexion dimm'd/ And every fair from fair sometimes declines/ Whether by chance or by nature's changing course untrimm'd/ But thy eternal summer shall not fade/ Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest/ And death shall not brag thou wandrest in his shade/ When in eternal lines to time thou growest/ So long as men can breathe or eyes can see/ So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.''

"I could've just done it by memory..." Blaine began saying after the long silence that followed, but Kurt cut him off with a long kiss.

"It was beautiful. You know, that idea of reading to each other by the fireplace sounds even more alluring than before," Kurt said, and Blaine pulled him down on top of him.