It wasn’t like Blaine had expected things to change quickly, instantly, as if everything bad had been sucked from the halls of McKinley and his friends were free from the shackles that had been put on them by themselves and others. He knew better than that. Things took time, and that was even with the assumption that Kurt and Santana were trying. He didn’t ask, they didn’t say, and he just had to hope.

Kurt still spoke to him, cautious but at least there, when they were at school. He kept a careful distance, but he wasn't avoiding him. Sometimes he would come over, but it was different than it had been at Dalton. It wasn’t an impassioned time spent before Kurt had to sneak out the side door and head back home. It was more of them laying there on Blaine’s bed, side by side, arms touching at the shoulder and all the way down to where their hands were intertwined.

 Behind the closed door of his room, Blaine felt like he had a private sanctuary that was just for him and Kurt. He could see the tension leave Kurt’s body when he crossed the threshold, see the change in his expression because Kurt knew he was safe there and didn’t have any cause or reason to be scared. It was quiet and it was just for them. Blaine hated that they didn’t have more, that Kurt never seemed as relaxed anywhere else, that he didn’t know how long that was going to be all they had. Their time together felt like eternities more than it actually was, in the best possible way, but he couldn’t completely push away the thought that all they had was one room and hours at a time and he didn’t know if or when they would ever have more.

There was the passing thought that maybe they never would, and Blaine did everything he could to keep his mind from going there, because he couldn’t stand it.

He could never really explain it to his parents. He’d made it perfectly clear that Kurt was not his boyfriend, though he wasn’t sure if that was more or less reassuring to them considering how he and Kurt would disappear off to his room with the door closed behind them for hours. Briefly, he’d considered telling them everything. Well, not everything. There was no need for them to know about anything that had happened over the summer. But he did think about telling them everything with Santana, Kurt, Brittany, the issues at McKinley, all of it. The problem was that  he knew it would all go to hell as soon as he did that. His parents were dealing with enough, especially since his dad had just gotten a new job and was adjusting.

Homecoming was bittersweet. Blaine didn’t have the best feelings toward school dances, but he knew there was little chance of anything bad happening since he was there with Santana. It was the same kind of reassurance he got when he walked down the hall holding her hand. Was it what he wanted? Yes, because he wanted nothing more than to be able to have those moments and not have anyone bat an eye. It just wasn’t with who he wanted.

Dancing with Santana was fine, it was fun, though Blaine found it frustrating that it was perfectly normal for girls to dance together in those situations but not boys. Santana danced with Brittany – though only once, and only because Brittany practically dragged her out onto the dance floor – but there was no way Blaine would have been able to do that with Kurt. He wasn’t even sure if he would have if Kurt had been comfortable with it. As much of a brave face Blaine had on every day at school, the whole school dance scenario held nothing but bad feelings for him. They hung out near the punch and cookies, though, waiting for their dates to come back.

It wasn’t until the last football game of the season when Blaine felt like something might have started shifting. He hadn’t gone to any games, despite Santana telling him that he should because the majority of the football team was just plain awful and he would probably enjoy hing their train wreck out on the field. They couldn’t have been that bad, considering they had a winning season, but he just hadn’t felt like going. There was something strange about the thought of watching Kurt curl up into himself and put on that uniform. But most of the other guys in the glee club were on the team too, and that was how he’d been convinced to go.

He’d invited his dad, but considering how late he’d been at the office all nights that week, he’d been looking forward to having a quiet night at home. That might have been for the best, Blaine thought in hindsight, because if Santana were to come over he really didn’t want to have to explain to his dad why his gay son had a girlfriend. So he just got himself bundled up, thick knit scarf and hat on with his wool pea coat, prepared for the chilled end-of-October night, and went to the stadium by himself.

The bleachers were slightly rickety, and Blaine made his way into the general admission section with the rest of the crowd and found himself cramped into the middle of a row of mostly adults. It made sense, he supposed, for most of the people there to be grown-ups. After all, they were bound to be parents of someone on the team, in the marching band, or on the Cheerios. Just before the game started, he saw that most of the student spectators were all gathered together down at the other end of the stands – but it was too late and too much hassle to move.

The thing of it was that Blaine liked football. He’d grown up watching it with his dad and brother and he’d always enjoyed the sport. At least he had, until the association of football with Kurt’s charade had put a bad taste in his mouth. The thought of the idiots that made up the majority of the team there at McKinley was enough to put him off it, but then there was Kurt, and Kurt was someone he was more than willing to support.

As it turned out, he wasn’t the only one more than happy to support Kurt.

Santana had been partially right about the train wreck on the field. There wasn’t much consistency - some downs were easy and some were frustratingly impossible, and Blaine couldn’t really keep from yelling out at the players on the field. It felt nice to be able to yell at them, but instead of what he’d much rather yell at them on any given day it was more along the lines of, “PASS THE BALL, YOU IDIOT! IT’S YOUR OWN FAULT YOU GOT SACKED!”

Yelling felt really good. Blaine almost forgot that Kurt was standing on the sideline, also partially due to the fact that he was so much smaller than everyone else and got blocked from view fairly easily, until the time came for him to punt and he went trotting out onto the field. Blaine took in a sharp breath, remembering the time that Kurt had come over after a game, all bruised and stiff from being tackled. The linemen hadn’t exactly been doing a good job at blocking, and he really hoped that Kurt made it through the game unscathed.

“Come on, Kurt,” he said under his breath, pulling his hands out of his coat pockets and twining them into the ends of his scarf. He shifted his weight, pushing up onto his toes a little to get a better view. “Come on…”

The ball went through the uprights and Blaine jumped, whooping, his fist pumping up into the air. He cut off when he felt a hand wrap around his other arm, but a glance at the man beside him clearly showed that he was just excited and had grabbed onto both people on either side of him. It only took a few seconds for him to realize what he was doing, and he released Blaine’s arm and patted him on the shoulder lightly.

“Sorry about that, buddy.”

“It’s okay,” Blaine said, shaking his head and straightening out his sleeve a little from how it’d gotten twisted. “That was a pretty good field goal.”

“That’s my kid,” the man said proudly, and Blaine froze.

“Your… kid. Kurt?” He couldn’t really stop staring up at him, trying to see any kind of resemblance. Maybe he hadn’t been talking about Kurt, that was always possible. There was no way that he had ended up at a football game standing next to Kurt’s dad of all people.

“Yup, Kurt. Never really saw him getting on the team when he was little, but he’s a damn good kicker.” Blaine struggled to think about whether or not Kurt had talked about his dad, said anything about him. A name would have been helpful. “You know Kurt?”

“I do, yes, Mr. Hummel,” Blaine replied, trying to shove every way he knew Kurt out of his head. “We’re in glee club together. I’m Blaine. Blaine Anderson.”

“Call me Burt,” he said, waving his hand as if dismissing the formal title. “Oh, so you’re Blaine.”

“Yes?” He hadn’t meant it to come out as a question; he just hadn’t expected Kurt to have mentioned him to his dad. What could he have possibly told him? His hands shoved back into his pockets and he bit the inside of his lip.

“You’re from that fancy school, right? Kurt said something about that, but I guess that explains why he got you to tutor him. He’s never had trouble with his grades before but I guess that happens when you’ve got so much on your plate. That girlfriend of his probably doesn’t help much. She’s a sweetheart but doesn't exactly have a whole lot going on upstairs. Heck, she might need your help more than Kurt does.”

Blaine just stared up at Burt the entire time he was talking, unable to figure out how he was supposed to respond considering he had no idea he was supposedly tutoring Kurt. So far as he knew, Kurt was doing fine in all his classes. They did their homework together when Kurt came over to his house, but it wasn’t like they were working together – more so that they were sitting in the same room working individually. What was he supposed to say?  I don’t tutor your son. Mostly he just comes over to hang, but sometimes we make out and do some other stuff too. No.

“I went to Dalton,” he said with a nod, figuring that was a good neutral place to start. “Brittany… she’s smart in her own way, I just don’t think it has much to do with school related things.” He didn’t think that Burt had meant anything by what he’d said about her, but Blaine couldn’t bring himself to say remotely bad about Brittany.

“Smart in her own way – that’s a good way to put it,” Burt agreed, and cheering from the crowd around them drew their attention back to the game.

Blaine still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the fact that he was standing there at a football game, making small talk with Kurt’s dad. Kurt had always been so protective of his family and home life, just like he was about mostly everything. He rarely if ever mentioned anything about it, about him, and Blaine never asked because he knew better than to push. He’d never imagined that Kurt would have said anything to his dad about him, and even less that he would have created some story about being tutored.

It was the little things in Burt that reminded Blaine of Kurt. He was certain that he’d gotten most of his features from his mother, but Kurt definitely had the same smile as his dad. Their eyes were the same – not necessarily in color, because Blaine was fairly confident that no one in the world could possibly have the same color eyes as Kurt, but in how he could tell there was so much more in them. Saying that the eyes were the window to the soul was clichéd and overdone, but Blaine believed it when it came to the Hummels.

He could also see him in how easy it was to talk to Burt. Conversation flowed between them the entire game, pausing for the occasional outburst because the team as a whole had messed something up again, or to cheer because for once they’d manage to do something right. Blaine was shocked that any touchdowns were made by their team at all, but somehow they managed. It was a field goal by Kurt that ended up winning the game for him, and Burt gave him a side-hug in celebration. Blaine didn’t even know how to respond or react to that.

Getting out of the stadium was a hassle, because even though it hadn’t seemed like there were that many people there, it was crazy once everyone was trying to squeeze through down the same stairs and along the walkways to get off the bleachers. Burt had asked if his parents were picking him up, but Blaine assured him that he’d driven himself so he wasn’t going to have to wait for his parents to fight through the traffic to get to him like salmon swimming upstream. They got down to the field level right as the players started coming out of the locker room, and Kurt ducked his way through the crowd to get to his dad.

“Great game, bud!” Burt said, wrapping him up in a hug and giving him a few pats on the back. “I don’t know what they’d do without you. Hey, I met your friend Blaine here up in the stands. He kept me company.” Kurt clearly hadn’t seen Blaine standing there until that moment, and his eyes widened at his dad’s words as his gaze swung away from his dad and over to him. There was a brief flicker of panic, but Blaine just offered him a little smile.

“We just happened to end up next to each other,” he offered with a shrug, hoping that Kurt understood that he hadn’t done it on purpose. “You were really good, though. They owe you a lot, winning that game for them.”

“It was a team effort,” Kurt said diplomatically, and Blaine rolled his eyes.

“We all know that’s not true,” Blaine said, shaking his head. “But it’s good of you to say.” He hesitated, then rocked back on his heels. “I should head home, tell my parents how it all went. Burt, thanks for the good conversations.” He held out his hand, and felt incredibly grateful when Burt shook it. “I’ll see you Monday, Kurt.”

“Monday,” Kurt repeated with a nod, and Blaine gave them both a smile before pulling his collar up and heading out the gates and toward the parking lot. He felt like he’d been holding in a lot of energy, not taking in full breaths or letting them all the way out, ever since he’d realized who Burt was. He’d just spent hours with Kurt’s dad – hours with the father of the one person he wanted and couldn’t have. The one person he had had, time and time again before the summer had ended.

By the time he got home, he had half dozen texts from Kurt.

WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!

I’m not mad. Sorry, I didn’t mean to… text-shout at you.

My DAD, Blaine. That was my DAD.

Oh hell, what did he say? What did you say? What were you talking about?

I can’t believe you actually came to a game.

Blaine.

Blaine fought with himself over how to reply as he sat in his car in the driveway, and he made himself take the time to get in out of the cold. He hadn’t realized just how cold he was until he was inside, and he shed his layers and slipped into his pajamas and under the covers of his bed before looking at his phone again. Kurt hadn’t texted anymore, but then again maybe he realized that Blaine had been driving and that was why he hadn’t been responding.

Why don’t you come over tomorrow and I’ll tell you about it? I’m sure you could use some tutoring.

The response came quickly, almost immediately, and he laughed lightly before shoving his phone onto the nightstand by his bed before rolling over to go to sleep.

Only if you wear your little school boy outfit. I miss the blazer. Also, I’ll be there.

***

Blaine managed to get all his homework done before Kurt got there the next day, though neither of them had really put forward a time to meet up. It was easily mid-afternoon when there was a knock at the door, and Kurt on the other side holding two cups of coffee – a mocha for himself and a regular drip for Blaine. It was definitely welcome, as was Kurt, and they made the familiar trip up the stairs to Blaine’s room and settled in.

Kurt almost always stretched out on Blaine’s bed, boots unlaced and neatly placed next to the nightstand, pillows propped up against the headboard to provide some sort of cushioning against the hard wood surface, and legs sprawled out in front of him. It was his normal seat, and that was where he went – though he carefully set his coffee on the nightstand to keep from accidentally spilling it as he climbed onto the bed. Blaine just sat beside him, legs folded up beneath him, his knees almost brushing against Kurt’s legs as he settled in.

“So…”

“Your dad’s really nice,” Blaine started, taking a sip of his coffee and holding the cup between his hands as he looked up at Kurt. “It really was just a coincidence, I didn’t mean to stand by him. I didn’t even know who he was until your first kick and then it just kind of… happened. I didn’t say anything to him about, well, anything. Just that we were in glee club together.”

“Blaine, it’s fine,” Kurt said, shaking his head. “He said he liked you, that you were very… proper. I think he’s glad that I’m hanging out with you instead of guys from the football team.”

“Even if I’m just tutoring you?”

Kurt stopped at that, pursing his lips and reaching over for his mocha. “I’m sorry about that.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Kurt.”

“No, I do. I hate lying, I hate it, especially when it’s to my dad. I just didn’t know what to tell him, about where I was going.” Kurt hesitated, taking a long drink. “Telling him I was coming to be with you… he’s met all my friends before. He probably would have wanted to meet you, just to give him some peace of mind since you were new at school and all, and the thought of that just scared me. Because you’re not just a friend.”

Blaine blinked a little at that, his gaze not shifting up from where it had settled on his coffee cup. They’d had months together, both actually together over the summer and not, separated by the stupidity of the school around them. Despite all that time, their friendship had only ever been called just that. No other labels, insinuations, commitments, just friends. Blaine wanted it to be more, but everything had turned so complicated so quickly and just gone from there. Kurt had never given an indication, not until just then, and his heartbeat had quickened as soon as the words had registered.

“I’ve been trying,” Kurt continued quietly, and Blaine glanced up at him. “I know I never said, but I… have been going to see Miss Pillsbury.”

“You have?”

“Yes,” he said, his eyes flitting up to meet Blaine’s. “It helps, being able to talk to someone that isn’t involved. It’s not like I could talk to my dad about it, I’d have to come out to him first. She’s a good neutral party, and she can’t tell anyone what I say so it works.”

“What do you, um, talk to her about?” Blaine asked, tilting his head. “I mean, obviously you don’t have to tell me, I just –”

“No, it’s okay,” Kurt said, shrugging. “Kind of everything. About how I feel, which sounds really stupid to say but that’s a lot of it. Talking to her has made me realize that I’m usually not that honest about how I feel, not with myself or anyone else.” He paused and then spoke slowly, as if he was picking his words out carefully. “So I’m trying to get better at that, and you’re a good place to start.”

“Okay,” Blaine said with a nod, reaching over and squeezing his hand lightly, trying to ignore how hard his heart seemed to be pounding against his ribcage.

“Okay,” Kurt repeated, taking another sip of his mocha before setting it back on the nightstand and taking Blaine’s hand between his. “You are probably the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I can’t imagine what my life would be like if I hadn’t met you back in June. You’ve made me feel more comfortable with myself, with who I am as a whole, and you make me want to be a better person. I would have been fine just keeping in the background and shadows until I graduated but then you came along and I don’t want that anymore.

“Pretending my way through high school seemed like such a good plan, but talking to Miss Pillsbury has made me realize that I didn’t have a clue of how to stop once it was done. It’s not like graduation would be some magical day and all of a sudden everything would be fine. My graduating from high school doesn’t change what’s in my head, and it won’t change how other people think. I want to be able to be myself, and I have no idea how to do that, how to start. It’s been years of lying and hiding and I don’t know how to stop.”

“I think you’ve made a good start,” Blaine said softly, nodding. “Saying things out loud, that’s difficult in itself. You just said a lot of things to me that I don’t think you would have been able to say a few weeks ago, and that’s kind of the first step, isn’t it? Being able to admit something to yourself, and then someone else. I’m really proud of you for talking to her.”

“That’s the thing,” Kurt continued, his gaze not wavering from Blaine’s, but there was something different going on behind his eyes. “I want you to be proud of me, because you mean more to me than most of the people I’ve known for years. You know more about me than any of them, and I don’t want to have to keep lying to myself and everyone else about the fact that we’re friends and nothing else. I want you, and to be able to walk down the halls holding your hand, to be able to dance with you at prom or something. To be able to just be with you without there being any question about what exactly we are to each other.”

“Kurt…” He felt like his breath was catching in his throat, and he scooted in to be a little closer.

“I didn’t mean to freak out or anything about you talking to my dad, it just kind of hit me even more that I wanted you to meet him, to know him, because you’re important to me. I want you to be important to me.”

“I want all that too, everything you said and more because you are so important to me,” Blaine said, and he couldn’t believe that they were actually saying those things. Months of never talking about anything along those lines, wants and desires, and then there it all was. “You’re an incredible person, Kurt, and I am proud of you. So proud.” Kurt leaned in and kissed him, and Blaine brought his free and up to cup the back of his neck and keep him there. It was soft, tender, and Kurt brushed a kiss against the corner of his mouth when he finally did pull back.

“It’s not like anything’s really changed,” Kurt mumbled, letting go of Blaine’s hand and threading his fingers up into the back of his hair. “I know that.”

“No, it has. Kurt, it may not change how things are at school or anything like that, but it’s changed things between us because now we both know how each other feel and what we want. It’s reassuring, to know it’s not just one sided.” He pressed a quick kiss against his lips and looked into his eyes. “Everyone goes at their own pace, and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here.”