When they arrived back at the Hummel-Hudson residence, Quinn dropped the bomb.

‘Finn, we need to talk.’

From the hallway, Kurt heard Finn ask. ‘What about?’

‘About Colbie.’

‘Kurt’s daughter?’ he checked with her.

In the kitchen doorway, Quinn nodded. ‘Yeah. Kurt’s daughter.’

‘But what – ’

‘Sit down,’ she told him jadedly, sighing. ‘I’ll start from the beginning.’ 

At these words, Kurt took Blaine’s hand and pulled him back out of the house as silently as he could. If Quinn planned to tell Finn everything, from the very start, they were in for a long night. Blaine didn’t need to ask what was happening; as soon as Quinn had said the words “we need to talk”, he’d known what was coming – and how long it would take; both Blaine and Kurt remembered exactly how it had begun.

*

It had been a crisp, warm Monday morning in April. The sun was up and the streets were thriving as Kurt dug himself out of bed and scuttled as quietly as he could to the kitchen. Usually, he was already up and out the door. But it wasn’t a usual day. It was the first day both he and Blaine had had a day off simultaneously in months, and they’d planned to make the most of it, starting with breakfast in bed.

Pancakes had always been Blaine’s favourite, although he’d never been able to make them properly. So Kurt, the ever-loving partner he was, made them for him as treats. Teamed with a strong cup of coffee, it was Blaine ideal breakfast.

‘Oh, Kurt, you shouldn’t have,’ he gushed, watching his partner effortlessly carry the full tray into the room and over to him. ‘I could have got up.’

‘I know,’ Kurt assured him, grinning evilly as he put the tray down and clambered onto the bed beside him. ‘But I want us to spend the whole day in bed.’

‘Oh?’ Blaine replied, catching the mischievous glint in Kurt’s eyes as he lent closer.

Kurt pressed a kiss to Blaine’s lips and, instantly, his hands were there, cupping Kurt’s jaw so he could intensify the kiss, hungry for his partner, teasing his lips open with his tongue. Kurt felt a moan rise in his throat as Blaine’s tongue did unmentionable things in his mouth. Blaine smiled into the kiss, amused by this, as he drew his tongue out and went to nip Kurt’s bottom lip. His teeth were there, ready to tug, but were paused by the doorbell. Impeccable timing, Kurt thought bitterly as he torn himself away.

‘I’ll go,’ he told Blaine, shimmying back off of the bed. ‘You have your breakfast.’

‘I’d rather have you,’ Blaine replied wolfishly as Kurt darted out of the room.

Five minutes later, he was opening the front door to a surprisingly familiar face.

‘Kurt, I need your help.’

He didn’t ask all the questions that were dashing around his mind; the how, they why, the what of the situation. One look at Quinn – at her tangled blonde hair, at her bloodshot eyes and, most importantly, at her protruding stomach – and he was stepping back to let her in, before hurrying to make her a coffee before he dashed back to the bedroom to make himself at least look presentable. Ten minutes later, he was sat adjacent to her in the lounge, Blaine at his side, ready to hear the answers to his questions.

‘Quinn, what’s happened?’ he asked cautiously. ‘Are you okay?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m… I’m pregnant.’

Blaine frowned. ‘But that’s – that’s great, isn’t it?’

Quinn shook her head again, her eyes on the floor and her hands trembling as she cradled the warming coffee cup. ‘It’s not… It’s not Finn’s.’

There was a shocked paused, Kurt and Blaine not entirely able to comprehend her answer. As far as they knew, Quinn and Finn were still together and living as happily as they could with two troublesome six year olds. They hadn’t broke up, and they hadn’t has a major fallen out recently - not since the absence of their honeymoon. So this news made no sense to either of them, no matter how they looked at it.

‘So whose is it?’ Kurt found himself asking into the silence, although he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

She took a few unsteady breaths before whispering, ‘Puck’s. I slept with Puck.’

After that, it all came out. Kurt already knew his step-brother and wife were struggling to keep themselves, and their family, afloat financially, and it seemed that this was what had started it. Fed-up of not being able to give the twins what they wanted, Quinn had gone out to – stupidly – try and drown her sorrows. Which was how she’d ended up sat at a barstool beside Puck, surrounded by empty bottles of wine. Of course, after that, one thing had drunkenly turned into another – and here she was, four months later, her abdomen parading her predicament.

‘I don’t know what to do,’ she whispered, her voice shaking.

‘It’s okay,’ Blaine assured her softly, when it was clear Kurt didn’t know what to say, still struggling with the infidelity. ‘Until you do, you can stay here.’

To Kurt, this seemed like the worse possible idea – to let Quinn and her drama into their lives so willingly. Because her adultery would clearly be unearthed one day and, as soon as Finn found out Kurt had known the whole time, he would be in trouble too. But he couldn’t just chuck his sister-in-law out on the streets, so he put up with her, figuring that she’d eventually work out that the only way forward would be to come clean and save all of their necks. However, when she did figure out her game plan, it wasn’t what Kurt had been expected.

 ‘I want the baby to be adopted,’ Quinn announced a fortnight later over dinner.

Blaine blinked, but reacted instantly, nodding. ‘Okay. Well, I guess – ’

‘By you.’

Kurt choked on his orange juice, not sure he’d heard correct. ‘Wait. What?’

Quinn’s eyes flew to her plate, and she busied herself with stabbing her potato salad with a fork as she repeated, ‘I want you two to adopt my baby.’

If Kurt had realised then what a mess it would have caused, he would have ended it then and there. But, instead, he sat back, eyes wide, stunned by her idea, and let his partner choke out a response that would be their undoing.

‘That… Well, that could certainly be an option.’