As they drove towards his house, Kurt found himself repeating the same sentence over and over to Blaine.

"He's not going to attack you, Blaine."

"He hates me,"

"He doesn't hate you-"

"I don't want to go!"

"It's been two weeks, Blaine; he's fine. Besides, what do you intend us to do instead?"

"We can watch the football."

"We are not watching football."

"And I am not getting murdered."

It had been two weeks since the talk with Kurt's dad, and since then things had been troubled. Despite Mr. Hummel's blessing that Kurt and Blaine should be very happy together, Blaine still wasn't convinced of his sincerity, especially considering the events of this past fortnight.

No matter how many times Kurt insisted it wasn't his fault, Blaine couldn't help but watch in horror as his father stepped up his campaign against mutants.

"We will not be silent as these violent creatures work their way into our society!" Brom Anderson had barked, slamming his fist against the podium, "We will not let these monsters threaten our way of life, and hold us hostage in our own homes while they roam free and unfettered to wreak as much havoc as they please!"

And while Kurt was sure his own dad was level-headed enough not to blame the boy for his father's actions, Blaine wasn't taking any chances.

"How can I possibly look him in the eye, Kurt?" Blaine sighed, playing with his seatbelt nervously, "I promised to not let anything hurt you, but my own father is out there trying to get you killed!"

In some ways Kurt could understand: Blaine was a people-pleaser at the best of times, but when it came to important people? To Blaine, this kind of failure was simply not an option.

And to be fair, Burt hadn't exactly done anything to rid Blaine of these delusions: it had only been a couple days after their talk that Kurt had invited Blaine over again - and as Blaine had put it: "there is only so much glaring a guy can handle when he's trying to make puff pastry with his boyfriend".

But this time would be different: Kurt had given his father a serious talking to about his actions towards Blaine, and had made him agree to a direct set of guidelines regarding their interactions. Burt had sighed playfully before agreeing, and Kurt had the sneaking suspicion that his father had only spent so much time glaring at Blaine for his own amusement.

"You are not responsible for your father's behaviour." Kurt said now, with only the slightest hint of steel in his voice to make Blaine listen. They were just now turning into his street, "it's not your job to make his decisions for him, and it's not your job to oppose him. Besides, my dad and I are doing plenty on that front anyway, and we don't expect your help."

Blaine was silent at this, staring moodily out the window. It wasn't often that Kurt ever brought up the New Directions, and when he did the subject didn't exactly lend itself to discussion. From the get go Kurt had made it clear his position on the topic of the rest of the team.

They'd been sitting together on Blaine's bed while his parents were out, cross legged and opposite each other, holding hands.

"I've told you all my secrets, Blaine," Kurt had said carefully, gazing into the other boy's eyes, "but the rest don't belong to me. All you need to know is that sometimes I'll be busy, and I can't tell you why, and that there are important people in my life about whom you will never know."

"I understand." Blaine had answered quickly, kissing his cheek.

Although it had been a difficult concept to grasp – that there were entire portions of Kurt's life that Blaine could never know – Kurt was glad to finally have it all out in the open. While he hadn't told Blaine the whole truth, he wasn't hiding it anymore either. And it was gratifying to know that Blaine could trust him like this. A simple "I need to go now" would be met with an "I love you" and a kiss – no judgement, no mistrust, and no anger.

Sometimes - when it was late at night that Kurt would get a call - Blaine would give him a worried look, and Kurt would jug him and say: "I'll text you later". Just to let Blaine know he'd be alright.

Kurt pulled in to the driveway and killed the engine, sighing when Blaine didn't move.

"It'll be fine," he said.

"I hope so," Said Blaine, unbuckling his seatbelt. "The things I do for you!"

Kurt smiled to himself as they stepped out of the car.

"Let's get this over with." Blaine stretched his arms like he was preparing for a marathon. Kurt rolled his eyes and opened the door.

"I'm home!" he called, stepping inside, "Blaine's with me!"

"Oh, good to see you, kiddo; Blaine," Burt called from the living room. He was watching the football on TV.

"You too, Mr. Hummel." Blaine replied cheerily, even though his expression was slightly panicked.

"Blaine and I will be in my room," Kurt said, taking Blaine's hand and leading him towards the stairs. Blaine stared at him with wide eyes before glancing back in terror at Kurt's dad.

"Door open." Was all the older man said, not turning away from the TV.

Kurt tugged on Blaine's hand and met his wary gaze. "Unless you want to stay here and watch the football with my dad?"

Blaine shook his head thoroughly and followed him up the stairs. As Blaine followed him to his room, Kurt tried not to think about the fact that this was the first time something like this had happened. Not only that he was taking a boy up to his room (although that was rather new), but the fact that he was taking someone that wasn't an immediate part of his family.

Kurt had never been the most social of people, not by a long shot. Aside from the fact that he was secretly a supernatural vigilante (which was isolating enough), Kurt was a musical theatre loving, fashion wearing, Vogue reading gay teenager in Ohio. He didn't exactly lend himself towards popularity. Besides Blaine, Kurt's only friends were really the New Directions. Of those, he was closest to Rachel, Mercedes and Tina. And on the odd occasion that they should take a risk and meet up outside of their regular New Directions meetings, they usually did so at either Mercedes' or Rachel's houses.

So, long story short: Kurt didn't have friends over. And he was nervous.

"Sorry if it's a bit of a mess," he said distractedly, ushering Blaine through his bedroom door. He was suddenly very aware of the things he never usually took notice of: his laptop screensaver of embarrassing family holiday photos, the lame books on his bookshelf he hadn't thought to get rid of, the incredibly lame certificates and old art projects he'd put on his shelf for the sake of personal flair. "I'm not very well-equipped for entertaining."

Blaine, to Kurt's immense surprise, seemed to perk up at the sight. "Wow," he said, gravitating immediately towards the shelf, "You're room is amazing."

Kurt blushed a deep red as Blaine inspected each thing on display with delight. "It's very you," he was babbling, oblivious to Kurt's reaction, "it has this almost unintentional colour scheme to it, that kind of links it all together in one big museum of 'Kurt'. I love this – did you make this?" Blaine turned around. He was holding a lopsided scarlet sculpture that Kurt had made for art class the year previously. It was absolutely terrible, but it had scraped him an A-, and he'd kept it because it matched his headboard.

"Uh, yeah?" he said, somewhat confused.

"You never cease to amaze me," Blaine said, placing the sculpture back on the shelf with care.

"You can keep it if you want," Kurt offered. He was still slightly nonplussed by Blaine's reaction to his room. It wasn't exactly design genius, like Blaine's room was.

"Oh, I could never," said Blaine, touched, "It matches your headboard."

Kurt had to sit down.

"Hey, Kurt; hello, Blaine," Kurt turned towards the door to face Carole, Blaine doing the same.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Hummel," he said immediately, flashing a charming smile. Carole had taken to Blaine immediately, and Blaine – the charming bastard - knew it.

"I hope you're staying for dinner," Carole said, smiling at him with just a hint of admiration. Blaine's smile had that effect on people.

"Oh, I don't want to intrude," Blaine said quickly; he was clearly considering the effects of an entire dinner in the midst of Burt Hummel. Kurt snickered.

"You should stay, Blaine," he said, with a hint of a smile, "It wouldn't be an intrusion at all."

"Definitely, dear," Carole agreed, "It'll be lovely to have you."

Once she was safely down the hall and on the stairs Blaine turned to Kurt with an accusatory stare. "You did that on purpose."

Kurt looked innocent, "What? You're accusing me of wanting to spend time with my boyfriend?"

They bickered on for some time, even as they curled up on Kurt's bed to watch America's Next Top Model (at first Blaine was hesitant to be anywhere near Kurt while Burt was so close by, but after an exasperated "Really, Blaine! What do you want to do? Sit on the floor?" he'd finally acquiesced).

Time passed, and soon the smell of dinner wafted with slow intoxication up the stairs, followed swiftly after by Carole's voice: "Boys, dinner!"

After a few words of encouragement from Kurt, the two boys descended the stairs, followed closely by a surprised Finn.

"What's he doing here?" he demanded as they entered the dining room.

"Blaine is joining us for dinner." Kurt replied airily, taking a seat at the table beside Blaine. He then shot a warning look at his step-brother, who shrugged gruffly and looked away. Finn took his seat opposite them, but his suspicious glances in Blaine's direction weren't exactly subtle. Two minutes in and already this wasn't going as Kurt had planned. Blaine looked nervous.

Salvation came in a most unexpected form, dispersing the tension that had rapidly descended upon the table: "This smells delicious, Carole," Burt said as he entered the room and dropped heavily into his seat with a smile.

"Thank you, Burt, it's lasagne – I hope you like lasagne, Blaine!"

"Love it!" Blaine said with a smile. Kurt squeezed his hand under the table to alleviate the slight panic in his eyes. He was sure Carole had picked up on it, but - bless her - she said nothing and began dishing up.

"So, how was your day, Kurt?" Burt asked, accepting his plate from Carole with a small 'thanks'.

"It was great," Kurt replied enthusiastically, glad to turn the attention away from his boyfriend, "Blaine and I went to between the sheets to find good songs for his Glee Club."

"Huh. You like singing Blaine?"

"Oh, um. Yes sir. Very much."

Burt nodded. "Well, Kurt doesn't shut up, so it's nice that he has you to relate to."

"Hey!" Kurt objected. Blaine snorted indelicately and attempted to pass it off as a cough. Burt grinned and went back to his lasagne. Finn looked moodily down at his dinner.

"So Blaine, what's this club called?" Asked Carole.

"The Warblers. It's an all male a capella group."

"I don't suppose you've got any Mellencamp in your repertoire?" Burt said.

"No. No I don't think we do, sir. We're mostly Top Forty." Blaine smiled.

"Hey, none of this 'sir' business," Burt said, pointing his fork at the boy, "Call me 'Burt."

Kurt could barely contain his grin. Burt glanced his way for a moment with a small smile, before making conversation with Carole.

"I'm thinking of joining McKinley's Glee Club." Finn blurted suddenly across the table.

Everyone turned to stare at him, with varying expressions of confusion. For his part, Finn looked most confused of all.

"And … you want to do that because?" Kurt said. Burt shot him a look.

"That's great Finn," he said, reaching over and patting Finn on the shoulder, "I didn't realise you enjoyed singing so much."

"Yeah, well, um," Finn said, frowning. "I've kinda been considering it for a while now anyway, so."

"Well," said Blaine, who was possibly the least bemused of everyone, "I thoroughly recommend it. It's fun."

Finn didn't reply, unsure whether to agree with Blaine or glare at him again.

"Well," said Kurt, breaking the ensuing awkward pause, "You should suggest 'Dancing Queen' to them, Finn. Maybe then someone will acknowledge its true genius."

"Unlikely." Blaine muttered.

"Plebeian." Kurt rejoined.

Dinner continued on like this, Burt suggesting the 'Macarena' as an appropriate song choice. Blaine countered with 'Hot Girls', and sang a few bars to give Kurt's parents a gist of it. Carole, however, stole the night by suggesting 'Baby Got Back' of all songs.

When the dishes had all been washed and dried, and Blaine made his leave for the night, it was in good cheer that Burt and Carole said goodbye to him, making him promise to join them again sometime.

"I think they like you," Kurt whispered in Blaine's ear, when they were alone by the door.

"Yeah," Blaine nodded, "I think they do. Except Finn, it seems."

"You can leave me to deal with him," Kurt said, rolling his eyes. "He's impossible sometimes."

"On the bright side, its because he cares about your safety."

"Whatever."

As they said their last goodbyes, and Kurt watched Blaine's retreating form from by the door, he figured this was probably the best day of his life.