Finn loves pizza.  Sure everyone likes pizza, it's the perfect food, but Finn loves it.  Normally not an adventurous eater he generally sticks to the basics.  But when it comes to pizza, Finn will try anything twice.  And wouldn't you know it, but Finn's step-brother just happens to make the best freaking pizza in the entire world. 

 Left home alone now that their parents are campaigning almost every night they're left to fend for themselves dinner wide.  The two boys use this opportunity to test out new and exciting manner of pizza.  Tonight Kurt's making fig and pruciutto pizza.  Finn's weary but it's all pizza right?

"So let me ask you something." Finn said with a mouthful of pruciutto. 

"Okay." Kurt replied warily, but still concentrating on cutting the figs.

"What are gay boobs?"

"I'm sorry what?"  Kurt pauses mid-cut and looks up confusedly at Finn. 

"I love boobs.  They drive me crazy when I think about them or see them.  Most of the craziest or worst stuff I've ever done was just so I could touch boobs.  Rachel's boobs aren't even that big but I'd do just about anything to get my face in there. "

"What was the question again?" 

"What are the gay boobs?"

"Well I'm not an ass man myself, but alot of guys are.  I guess I'd say shoulders- or maybe arms.  No shoulders.  Blaine's shoulders kill me."

Finn nodded his head with his brow furrowed deep in thought.  

"Hm. Shoulders.  Do I have good boob shoulders?"

"Wouldn't know.  Can't see that high, let me get the ladder from the basement and I'll let you know."

Finn let out a bark of a laugh.  "Shut up dude."

"You asked."  Kurt turned back to filling the pizza crust, muttering affectionately under his breath "gay boobs."  Once the pizza was in the oven he turned around to Finn.  "So now let me ask you a question."

"Sure.  But don't tell Rachel about the motorboating thing.  I don't think she'd understand."

"What's going on with you and Blaine.  He told me not to say anything, but I genuinely want to know.  He's my boyfriend, and you're my brother and I hate being in the middle of this."

"Whatever."

"No don't whatever me I told you gay boobs, now I have a question I want answered.  Why do you hate Blaine?  You guys were cool all summer."

"Yeah well this summer he was still a Warbler."

"He's still the same person.  A little less uptight maybe, but essentially still the same."

"Yeah he's still friendly and popular, and a great singer and actor and of course a much better dancer than me.  He comes to Mckinley the same star he was there except this is my club."  Finn is very worked up and Kurt, while he should be mad, can't help but see through Finn's turmoil.

"Finn.  You are the leader of this club.  You have been since you joined.  You've kept us together every time we began to fall apart.  Nobody takes that for granted.  You've put your own crap aside time and time again when I guarentee the rest of us wouldn't have, and yeah Blaine is an incredible singer, and well, let's not mince words he's obviously a better dancer-"

To this Finn has to shrug and maybe even squeeze out a half smile.  Because yes, he is a god awful dancer.

"But no matter how many solos he gets, to both of our dismay sometimes, he is not the leader of New Directions.  And he doesn't want to be believe me.  And as far as him being popular, you seem to be forgetting why he transferred.  He left the safety of a school where he was all those things to be with me his "fairy princess" boyfriend.  And in case you haven't noticed, I'm not the most widely accepted kid at that school. "

"I guess.  But you're wrong."  This is really disappointing to Kurt.

"Fine Finn.  Whatever, then can you just pretend to be nice to him.  As a favor to me so I don't feel as bad about dragging him to a place where he's openly hated for no reason."  

"No you're not wrong about the Blaine stuff, and me being the real leader and all that and I guess I could be a little nicer to him.  You're wrong that you're not accepted.  I know it's hard and people can be real jerks, but in case you're too close to see it-  people are changing.  They're all taking a really long time to do it but there are alot of people who respect you man.  And even though it's suppossed to be a secret, everyone knows about Santana and Britney, and nobody bothers them.  That's because you took the hits, and you never let them stop you.  You're kind of a bad ass."

Kurt is flattered and more than a little surprised.  "Wow.  Thanks Finn.  You can be really intuitive when you want to be."

"Oh well thanks I guess.  Is the pizza done?  I wanna go to Rachel's her Dads are out of town for a wedding and I wanna sleep over."

"Few more minutes, then you can go motorboat Rachel's Berries to your hearts content."

--------------------

Blaine hated taking out the trash. The thought of garbage juice made him gag, but he was bound to the task by his status as a teenage son.  He lived his whole week in a haze of hatred and anticipation of garbage day, to the point where the week bled together making every day feel like garbage day.  Okay maybe he was being a little mellow dramatic but he couldn't help himself as he took the long walk from the shed where they kept the cans, around the house then down the long driveway and out the front gate.  As he began to make his way down the side steps, some particularly rancid garbage juice splashed up onto the cuff of his sweter.  Trying his hardest not to breathe it in he deposited the cans out front and began to make his way back into the house. 

 He realized something was off when he wasn't greeted by his mother's usually immediate call for him to "Wash your hands right this second before you touch anything!"

As he made his way up to his room to change he saw his father on the couch looking angry and confused, and his mother was huddled on the arm rest next to him looking like she'd seen a ghost.  They were whispering to each other, but once he caught his father's eye he stopped abruptly.   Blaine turned and walked into the room.

"What's going on guys?"  Blaine asked warily.  His mother was at a loss for words, but his father looked him in the eye.

"Come have a seat son, there's something you should see."  He walked in and sat next to his father who was holding the remote control.  The tv was paused on the last frame of Cooper's latest commercial.

"Oh God!" Blaine exclaimed almost relieved.  "What's Coop done now?"

HIs father smiled sadly.   "It's not your brother."

"Tom-" his mother cut in.  "Maybe we shouldn't-"

"He's going to see it eventually.  It should be now."

He pressed play.  Nothing could have prepared Blaine for what appeared next.

A picture of Burt Hummel in his coveralls appeared on the screen.

Burt Hummel claims he's just like you.

Small business owner.

Father.

The picture on the screen changed to one of his family at the wedding.  Blaine recognized it from Kurt's facebook.  The rest of the picture went dark leaving a circle of light around Kurt's face.  Blaine gasped with no recollection of how to exhale.

But what kind of father exactly?

The picture changed again to a picture of Kurt in his 'LIKES BOYS' shirt from last year.  At this sight all the blood left Blaine's head.

He claims to be all about traditional family values,

but what kind of tradition is a gay son who ran for prom queen.

The picture of Kurt's face was then photoshopped onto a gown and a tiara was placed on his head.  Blaine's whole body went numb.

If this is the filth the Hummel name brings to schools

What kind of filth will it bring to Washington?"

Vote Reggie "The Sauce" Salazar

No. No. NoNoNoNoNo NO!  There was Kurt, his Kurt.  On television, mocked, ridiculed, used and exposed.  So exposed.  Giving every hateful ignorant asshole in their district young and old ammunition and a face to recognize.  Once he regained feeling in his arms, he rushed his hands up to meet his face.  He hyperventilated in the smell of garbage juice and began to gag on his terror, confusion and the stench.  

"I'm gonna be sick." He muttered as he ran from the living room just in time to expel the contents of his dinner in the adjoining bathroom.  His mother was close on his heels and was rubbing circles into his back as his eyes filled with water and his dinner was expelled into the toilet in front of him.  

The fear was closing in around him- the fear of nameless faceless hatred directed at Kurt and by proxy him.  Flashes of horrible people sitting in their home becoming enraged at Kurt.  Their hatred, was one thing; but what if one of those crazies decided to make an example of his boyfriend?  They would think him the flamboyant freak in a dress who wanted to be voted prom queen to rub his gay in their children's faces.  He was so relieved that night when he dropped Kurt off at home after the dance.  They hadn't ended up in the emergency room like the last time he went with a boy to a dance.  The memory of that relief just feels like a sad joke now.  Those garish, cartoonish caricatures of the sweet, smart, handsome boy he loved made Blaine's vision swim with anger.  

Without thinking he pulled his arm back and punched a hole in the bathroom wall.  His mother gave a startled yelp and pulled his hand up to look at it.  She wasn't angry.  She was afraid.  

"Thomas!"  She called to her husband who was suddenly in the bathroom, pulling Blaine up from under his arm pits and leading him to the kitchen where he deposited him into a chair.  His mother reappeared seconds later with a first aid kit.  Blaine looked down and realized his hand was bleeding.  He stared at it for a second.  How funny? he thought.  He looked up when he heard his father's ringing phone.  Thomas looked to his wife and  said "It's him."  She nodded as a signal for him to take it and he walked out of the room only catching the first few words through the ringing in his ears.

"Burt. Thanks for getting back to me, I need to tell you something......"

Burt. Kurt's dad.  Kurt!  He needed to get to Kurt!  Had he seen that commercial?  He will not be made to suffer this alone.  Blaine shot up out of the chair and rushed to the front of the house.  

HIs mother was close behind him.   

"My keys." he muttered to no one, but his mother was quick to respond. 

"Where are you going? You can't drive like this.  Let your father talk to Mr. Hummel.  Lets see how they want to handle this, after that Your father or I will drive you over, but you are not driving yourself anywhere like this."

"I'm going right now!"

"No.  You're going to pull yourself together.  You will not storm in there a bloody, weepy mess.  That won't help anyone, especially Kurt.  You have to remain calm.  Don't let him see you panicking like this.  We all have to keep out heads.  We have to be smarter than everyone else, now especially that all this is happening.  We have to keep our wits about us."

Blaine looked up at his mother.  Her strength and intelligence showing through her fiercely protective eyes.  His father was a very ambitious man who was not easily deterred, and collected to the point of coldness.  Compared to him, his mother seemed soft.  But right now he was clearly seeing that she was a rock.  Nobody messed with the Andersons, and God help anyone who got any ideas about hurting the people they loved.