You’ve been convincing yourself that this whole thing with Kurt and Blaine is just a fling. Because really, when do high school relationships ever last? You tell Kurt this, when he tells you that Blaine’s been promoted to “boyfriend”, that he has to be careful, not just throw his heart away without a second thought because this is the first person who has shown an inkling of interest. Because he’s your son, and you want to make sure that he doesn’t get hurt or end up doing anything he’ll regret.

Kurt looks offended at that, and really, it doesn’t surprise you when Kurt goes right ahead and puts everything he has into his relationship with Blaine. Because after all, this is Kurt, and he’s nothing if not tenacious. All the same, you don’t know how long this is going to last. After all, they’re still kids, and if there’s one thing you’ve learned in your life, it’s that teenagers screw up. A lot.

After a month or so, though, you start to realize that what Kurt has with Blaine isn’t the same as what Finn has had with Rachel, or with Quinn. It’s little clues that give it away. Like the fact that Kurt starts singing around the house so much more after that Regionals competition, making you realize that he’d stopped sometime after you were released from the hospital. Like the fact that Kurt lets Blaine touch his hair without swatting his hand away or batting an eyelid. The way they look at each other when they think no one’s looking. The way they’d fallen asleep, wrapped around each other, the other day while watching some musical whose name you don’t know.

But what really does it for you is Kurt sitting in front of the living room window, clutching his phone and squinting through the downpour. He turns and beams at you, and you raise an eyebrow.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” you comment.

“Blaine’s on his way,” he replies breathlessly, and of course. You should have known, what with the four-and-a-half weeks of moping Kurt you’ve had to put up with ever since Blaine went on vacation to Paris with his parents.

(“I hate you,” Kurt had said when Blaine told him, ignoring the latter’s smirk and accompanying “No, you don’t.”

“You have to call me. And take pictures, lots of pictures.”

“Every day,” Blaine had promised.

“Paris, Blaine. Paris. We have to go together someday.”

“We will. After high school, or college, or whenever, really. We will.”

“I love you.”

“I thought you hated me?” Blaine grinned.

“If you want me to kiss you, you’re going to shut up right now.”)

“I see,” you say, and Kurt just smiles at you and turns back to the window, staring intently. Sure enough, Blaine’s car pulls up and Kurt’s on his feet, pulling the door open and running into the rain without bothering to grab a jacket. He launches himself into Blaine’s arms and Blaine laughs, hugging him tightly. Kurt’s soaking wet and his hair is all over the place, but you’re pretty sure he doesn’t care. After all, he rushed out into the rain in what you’re pretty sure is the sweater he was wearing when he ordered Finn to sit as far away from his as possible, saying “This is vintage. I’ve been saving up for it for months, and if you spill anything anywhere near it, you can say goodbye to your eyebrows. And hair.”

You look back outside to see Kurt pulling away from a kiss, beaming, and dragging Blaine into the house. You hear “gosh, I’ve missed you so much” and “you must be exhausted, let me make you some tea or something” and “I love you” and “you have to tell me everything” and you think that maybe, you don’t have to deal with this. Because Kurt and Blaine? They’re pretty capable of doing it on their own.