To: Blaine
It was so embarrassing! My dad was just staring at me for a good 5 min.

From: Blaine
Oh god. Kurt, hes going to hunt me down and kill me with his shotgun.

To: Blaine
Well, its your fault. Also, my skins gonna age prematurely now, so if my dad doesn’t kill you, i will.

Kurt receives another text from Blaine then, and he’s about to read it until one of his hands unconsciously reaches up to his neck, right to where a hickey now resides. It’s going to be there for quite a while, thanks to the fact that Kurt’s skin is ridiculously sensitive and bruises much too easily, meaning that hickeys that do end up there are going to stay there for a while. His hands continue to roam until they reach another hickey, and they begin to trail down to the dip of his throat, where another bruise is found, when Kurt begins to blush unintentionally.

Shaking his head, Kurt drops his hand and responds to Blaine’s text. They continue to text each other through the night before they pass out to lazily typed “I love you”s. But throughout all of this, Kurt’s mind is half on his conversation with Blaine and half on the passing weekend, which resulted in the hickeys all around his neck.

He’s not going to kill Blaine, not really. Even if his skin really is going to age prematurely now with the kiss-induced bruises all over his neck. If anything, Kurt now hates the skin he’s always prided and took care of, because apparently his fair complexion makes it even easier for hickeys to be created.

And the only reason why he hates that is because of the passing weekend, in which his family is finally introduced to his sensitive neck.

Finn

Kurt thinks he’s being stealthy when he enters his house late one Sunday morning, and he begins to thank his lucky stars that the house is seemingly empty when he quietly locks the door behind him.

The night before, he had a sleepover at Blaine’s place. Their first ever sleepover this summer (actually, their first sleepover, period). Blaine’s parents were out of town, but he had invited Kurt over for the night. It took some convincing and winning over Burt, but Kurt and Blaine (and, admittedly, Carole) had managed to get Burt’s approval for the sleepover. All they had to promise was that no “funny business” was going to happen, that Kurt slept at a reasonable time and that he checked in every once in a while. The two had managed to actually keep the last two requests, and Kurt eventually convinces himself that making out with Blaine in a session that ended in orgasms for the both of them is the farthest thing from “funny”. So, technically, he kept up that first request too.

(Okay, whatever, maybe not. Two out of three requirements met is a total win in Kurt’s book. It’s not like his dad’s gonna find out anyway.)

Kurt happily sighs at the memory of what he and Blaine did the night before while he flops into the nearest couch, dropping his bags to the side.

And then that’s when Finn loudly steps into the room, calling out, “Kurt, dude, is that you?”

Okay, so apparently he isn’t lucky today and is not home alone. At least it’s just Finn. Kurt’s just about to roll his eyes and say something like “No Finn, it’s freakin’ Santa Claus” when he catches Finn’s bewildered expression. His step-brother’s eyes are wide and he’s blushing just a bit, high on his cheeks.

“Finn. Finn!” Kurt calls, snapping his fingers, hoping to break Finn from his trance.

Finn shakes his head and he’s still blinking himself out of his reverie when begins to stutter out, “Uh, wha – uhhh…”

“Finn?” Kurt asks, getting up from the couch and reaching a hand up to his step-brother’s forehead. He’s still secretly glad about the fact that he and Finn can now touch each other without pulsing discomfort or dislike, with all they went through the passing year. Kurt’s also glad he long ago accepted the fact that he and Finn weren’t meant to be – and, really, he does think they’re better off as brothers. Especially since Blaine’s come into his life.

Though, now, with Finn’s face screwing up in something Kurt can only define as mortification, Kurt’s a little hesitant about his decision to check Finn’s temperature with the back of his hand.

“Well, you’re not having a fever,” he mutters, mostly to himself as he drops his hand. Looking up into Finn’s eyes, Kurt cautiously asks, “Are you okay, Finn?”

Finn simply stares down at him in a way that makes Kurt want to squirm, but after a moment Kurt realizes Finn’s eyes aren’t looking back into his eyes.

No, they’re staring at his neck.

Blushing furiously and shuffling away in embarrassment, Kurt brings a hand up to his neck and tries to cover up his hickeys. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Kurt knows that this is pointless because he’s wearing a pretty deep V-neck shirt and he’s still bearing a fair bit of skin. Skin that’s covered in hickeys he almost forgot about. He’s totally going to kill Blaine for doing this to him.

“Well?” Kurt snaps then, and the edge in his voice immediately catches Finn’s attention. “Is there something you need, Finn?”

Finn blinks repeatedly for a second or two before he finally answers, “No, no. Just checking if it was you or Puck. He said he’s coming over.”

They stare at each other in an uncomfortable silence for a while.

“Dude, you’re neck looks like it got attacked or something,” Finn finally says.

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Thank you for pointing out the obvious Finn, really.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen you with hickeys before.” Finn seems to contemplate this for a moment before he states, “Actually, I’ve never seen you with hickeys, or looking like you… Holy crap. Dude, was last night the first time you made out with Blaine?!” Finn’s looking a little horrified, though Kurt’s pretty sure it’s because Finn’s surprised that Kurt hasn’t even made first base yet.

Which, obviously, is the farthest thing from the truth. He’s made it to second base, thank you very much, if last night has anything to show for it.

Kurt rolls his eyes then, sitting down on the couch again and Finn following suit by sitting on the recliner next to him. The quarterback reaches for the remote and turns on the TV before flicking through the channels.

“No,” Kurt finally clarifies. “I’ve made out with Blaine before.” In hindsight, this should actually be really awkward, talking about making out with Finn. In reality, though, Kurt finds it more comfortable then he assumed. “Finn, you know I never go out in public unless I look perfect. And you’ve never seen a hickey on me because I can do wonders with concealer.”

Finn’s looking at him curiously, wearing an expression Kurt learned early on means Finn has no idea what he’s talking about.

“It’s make up, Finn,” he says, “You can use it to cover hickeys.” Kurt sighs and shakes his head as it falls back against the sofa. “I forgot to put some on before I left Blaine’s place.”

Finn nods in understanding, before smiling at him again and reaching for him with a fist. Kurt stares at it for a moment, and then at Finn again, and before long his eyes are glancing back and forth between Finn’s face and his fist.

“Um – ?”

“Dude, you’re covered in hickeys. You totally scored last night,” Finn says, his smile wide. Kurt’s a little disturbed by how okay Finn is with what he just implied. “Okay,” the taller boy continues, “it’s a little weird for me to think about since you’re, like, brother and stuff, but you still deserve a brofist, man.”

Kurt blinks.

“Come on, Kurt! Don’t just leave me hanging!”

Kurt makes a face, but eventually gives in and pounds his fist with Finn’s.

Carole

“Now, once the oven’s ready, you leave it in there for 10 minutes at 350 then for another 10 at 300,” Kurt instructed.

Kurt’s making desserts with Carole that afternoon, and he’s actually really enjoying the company. Originally, Kurt was going to try out a new recipe on his own, but when Carole came in early from work that day, asking if Kurt would show her how he made that “wonderful dessert last Friday Night Dinner”, well… Kurt usually isn’t one to give away his baking secrets once he’s mastered the dish, but it was his step-mom and all she basically did was boost his ego with the amount of hybrid compliment-pleads she made.

So, that afternoon, Kurt spends it baking with Carole. Carole’s a terrific student, he thinks, much better than his father, who had still yet to create a decent soufflé. They make light conversation about their family as they work together and by the end of it Kurt realizes how much he truly adores Carole. She’s a great mom, Kurt notes as he watches her put away the leftover ingredients, and he’s proud to call her his step-mother.

BEEP!

That would be the oven saying it finished preheating.

Carole snaps her at towards the countertenor. “Kurt, could you get –”

“Already on it, Carole,” Kurt replies, walking towards one of the cabinets where the dessert platters are.

The platter he needs is on one of the higher shelves and Kurt has to stretch to his toes and twist his body a little to grip it properly. By the time he’s standing straight again, he turns to Carole, who looks clearly surprised. She has an oven gloved hand pressed to her mouth, her eyebrows are shot straight up to her hairline and her eyes have a glint of amusement. Kurt sets the platter down at the counter carefully, trying to keep his gaze on his step-mother even though it’s making him fidget a little.

“Carole?” he asks carefully.

“I’m sorry, Kurt,” she apologizes, but Kurt can hear the giggles escaping her lips. “It’s just – I’ve never seen a hickey so dark before.”

At that, Kurt blanches.

Earlier, after his awkward-but-not talk with Finn, Kurt had sprinted up to his room and immediately got changed into something that covered his bruises. He was tempted to wear a scarf, but he figured that was just going to make everything suspicious since it was scorching that day, and opted for an old polo instead. Kurt had also tried to work his magic with his concealer but, god, Blaine may as well have given him permanent bruises with how purple the hickeys were. After 15 minutes of failing to cover up his hickeys were good old concealer, Kurt packed it away, popping the collars of his polo up in the hopes of covering them that way.

Clearly, his efforts went to waste.

“But, how – ?”

“When you were reaching for the dish,” Carole says, “You twisted and I saw your neck.”

Kurt groans, closing his eyes and trying to keep the heat from his cheeks. The blush floods his face anyway.

Carole moves towards him then, reaching for the dessert platter. “I take it your time at Blaine’s was good?” she asks, nonchalantly.

Kurt stares at her with wide eyes, bewildered as she – calm as you please – pours the batter into the dish.

Carole giggles. “Kurt, honey, you’re as red as a cherry.”

“But, you – I – !” Kurt gulped. What do you say to your step-mom when she says that the hickeys all over your neck are the darkest ones she’s ever seen?

“Kurt,” Carole continues in a soft voice, “you don’t need to be embarrassed with me. Finn’s my son, remember? He comes home with hickeys on a regular basis.” Kurt laughs a little at that, because, well, it’s true. Between Rachel and Quinn and whoever else he happens to be liking at the time, Finn usually has a bruise somewhere on him.

“Right,” he says, swallowing a little.

“So, I take it your sleepover was fun?” Carole prompts again after a moment of silence. She places the batter filled dish into the oven and closes the door before setting the timer.

Kurt wrings his hand together. “Uh, well…”

“No need to give me particulars, honey,” she says with a smile.

“It-it was… nice,” he finally settles with. It was actually much better than “nice”, but Kurt doesn’t think Carole really needs to know that.

She leans against the counter, looking at him with a careful and serious expression. “Did you guys have –”

Kurt blushes even more. “God, no! No. We’re not ready for… that, yet.” He takes a gulp. Might as well tell her, he thinks, since it seems like Carole isn’t dropping the subject soon. “It was just… touching.” Kurt grimaces, his gaze avoiding hers. They stay in an awkward (well, awkward for Kurt at least) silence for a while until Carole shuffles towards him, placing a gentle and comforting hand on his shoulder.

She grins at him, dropping her hand from his shoulder to slip off her oven mitts. “Then I’m glad I helped you guys out with convincing Burt,” Carole says, winking at the last bit. Throwing the oven mitts over to the counter, she sighs before saying in a gentle voice, “Kurt, I’m not trying to overstep boundaries or anything you’re not comfortable with. It’s just – with the entire pregnancy scare with Quinn…” She looks at him with an expression that’s a cross between embarrassed and uncomfortable. “I just hope you’ll be a little smarter than that.”

It’s then Kurt realizes that she just genuinely cares about him, like she does for Burt and Finn. He cracks a little smile, happy that his dad is with Carole. She smiles back at him fondly, and Kurt’s feeling warmth spread across his chest. A warmth that he feels around his dad whenever Burt’s being particularly fatherly with him – in the good way at least.

“We’re being careful,” Kurt assures Carole. She nods and opens her arms to bring him in for a hug. He doesn’t object or pull away.

Kurt decides that he really loves his step-mom.

Burt

Kurt manages to avoid the topic of his hickeys with Burt until after dinner later that night. Somehow, Kurt actually ends up laughing at one of his dad’s terrible jokes during dessert and throws his head back in laughter before he can catch himself. However, once he notices the sudden silence at the dinner table, Kurt’s a little confused until he takes in Carole’s amused expression, Finn looking at his dessert uncomfortably, and Burt staring at his neck like he wants to burn it.

Or maybe the hickeys on his neck. That’s probably it.

The silence lasts for a good 2 minutes until Finn clears his throat awkwardly.

“So –” Finn begins, but he doesn’t finish because Burt cuts him off with, “Got something you wanna share about your night with Blaine, Kurt?” still grilling the marks on Kurt’s neck with his eyes.

“We watched When Harry Met Sally,” he offers coolly, which is actually the truth. He and Blaine did watch the movie, but they missed the end because that was around the time they started kissing each other.

“Uh huh,” Burt says, “Anything else?”

Kurt shrugs, his eyes narrowing into a slight glare; Burt sighs. And during this exchange Carole somehow gets Finn to leave the table with her so the two could be alone.

“Kid, you mean to tell me that there are half a dozen hickeys around you’re neck because you watched a movie?” Burt’s actually looking at Kurt in the eye when he says this.

“No,” Kurt replies, his voice unwavering. There’s one immensely long pause then, and after about a minute of it, Kurt snaps. “Dad, they’re just hickeys.”

“Kurt, there are hickeys all over your neck. You’d never let that happen,” he huffs.

Kurt rolls his eyes at this. Isn’t this common knowledge already? He’s lectured everyone in his family about his skincare regime at one point. “Yes. And?”

Burt glares at him, his escalating anger easily showing. “And, you’d never let that happen,” he slowly drawls, his voice getting louder.

“You already said that,” Kurt points out. He knows this will only piss off Burt more, but, hey, it had to be said right?

His father growls, low and quiet in his throat. “Kurt, if Blaine suddenly starts putting bruises on your neck from kisses – something I know you’d never allow – how much farther do you think he’s gonna push that boundary? Maybe he’ll –”

“Dad!” Kurt loudly interrupts, fuming with anger. How dare his father say that about Blaine! “First of all, Blaine would never push my boundaries. He respects me and knows when to stop, especially when I say so.” He’d actually add in that, most of the time, Blaine’s the one telling them to stop, and that Kurt’s the one left sexually frustrated and in the dust – but that’s not the point right now. “Second of all, they’re just hickeys, Dad. Finn comes home with them all the time and I don’t see you or Carole telling him off about it.”

“But you’re not Finn,” Burt argues, “You’re Kurt, and I the Kurt I know would never allow –”

“Dad, I let Blaine give me those hickeys.”

And with that, Kurt jumps out of his seat and stalks off. He stomps up the stairs and into his room, purposely slamming the door shut with a loud bang! One tiny part of him is proud of the dramatic exit, but as he sits on his bed with crossed arms, this detail seems small.

He’s being childish and he knows it, but god. It’s insulting to think that his dad thinks he’s such a pushover. Sure, he may have a few (or a lot of) exceptions for Blaine, but that doesn’t mean he’d be pushed around because of it. They love each other, for goodness’ sakes! They’d never pressure the other into doing something uncomfortable.

There’s a knock on his door and Kurt wants to yell out, “Go away!” but he can’t because he’s still huffing and glaring at everything in his room. Whoever’s at the other end takes it as a green light to enter his room, even though it really isn’t, and cracks the door open.

Kurt glances out of the corner of his eye and he can see that it’s his father. He pointedly turns away from Burt. Then, he hears Burt sigh and walk over to him, taking a seat next to him on the bed. Kurt lets his eyes wander to his father’s figure.

Burt simply looks at him, his expression unreadable. Then, he sighs again, his face falling a little bit, and it’s enough to catch Kurt’s attention, but he still doesn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry kiddo,” he apologizes. “It’s just – I’ve never seen you with hickeys before, and then when I realized you were old enough to get ‘em… I guess I didn’t like it.”

Kurt purses his lips, uncrossing his arms and dropping his hands into his lap. “Dad –”

“Nah, lemme finish, kid,” Burt interjects, his face earnest, “That was wrong of me, and I’m sorry. It’s just hard for me to see my little boy all grown up.” His hand makes its way over to Kurt’s hair, but it retreats at the last moment, settling on his back. It’s good to know that his father still knows the rule about Kurt’s hair (i.e.: don’t touch it – ever).

Kurt sighs. “Dad, it’s okay. I just – didn’t think you’d react so strongly.” After a deep breath, he continues, “And you should know that I’d never let Blaine do anything to me I wouldn’t want him to do. No one pushes the Hummels around, remember?” He cracks a careful smile at the end of it, and Burt smiles back at him.

And then his smile falters. “You–you guys are,” he pauses for a gulp, “being careful, right?”

Kurt blanches, his entire body stiffening.

“We’re – uh – well… god,” he says exasperated. “Dad!” he continues, because he’s horrified and he’s allowed.

“Trust me kid, this is one of the last things I’d want to know. Just be honest with me.”

The tone Burt uses is soft, but still authoritative, so Kurt takes the encouragement and quietly stammers out, “We’re, well, we’re not doing that yet. But if we do, then yeah, we’ll be careful.” Kurt’s not looking at his dad in the eye anymore, because, what the hell, this is so awkward.

He feels Burt nod next to him and pats his back a few times before getting up. “Alright, I trust ya, kid.” Burt walks over to the door and begins to leave, but before he fully steps out, he says, “Blaine still knows that I have a shotgun right?” Kurt knows his dad’s kidding, but, really? Blaine’s not even here and Burt’s still making teasing (but mostly empty) threats.

Kurt rolls his eyes and groans, ushering his father out of the room. “Yes, Dad, he still knows.” And with that Burt leaves the room with one of his hands up in surrender as the other closes the door behind him. Kurt locks the door before flopping onto his bed.

He just had his entire family interrogate him on his hickeys, all in one day.

Wonderful.

He’s going to kill his boyfriend for putting him through this.

Blaine (the next day)

“I hate you.”

“Uh, hello to you too?”

Kurt makes a face before opening the door wide enough for Blaine to step through the threshold. The shorter boy leans forward kiss to Kurt’s cheek, though Kurt can feel that Blaine’s a little hesitant about it because of Kurt’s greeting. Still, the gesture is enough for the countertenor to feel his resolve on hating Blaine crumbling, so he tries not to let it show by keeping a straight face when he closes the door behind him.

It’s Monday afternoon at the Hummel-Hudson home and Blaine’s visiting Kurt since they’re both off from work today. Blaine’s gig at Six Flags ended about a week ago and Kurt already finished his extra hours at his dad’s workshop so he could take the weekend and Monday off.

Kurt leads his boyfriend into the living to sit down on the loveseat, and said boyfriend shifts uncomfortably as a hand is lifted to rub the back of his neck. “So, why do you hate me?” Blaine asks, looking genuinely confused. If he didn’t look like such a lost (and, frankly, adorable) puppy, Kurt would totally roll his eyes. The thing is, he’s been learning that, apparently, love means sometimes holding back a bitch glare or an eyeroll.

So, instead of doing anything he’d normally do to Finn, or Rachel, or anyone in generally really, Kurt just makes another face and sighs exasperatedly.

“Blaine, were you not paying attention to what I was saying yesterday when we texted?” he asks, crossing his arms, though it sounds more like an accusation than a question.

This catches Blaine’s attention, and soon his eyes are wide and pleading. “Of course, I was!” he says, dropping his hand, “You were telling me about how everyone in your family saw your hic – oh.” Compression spreads across Blaine’s face and Kurt has to bite back a laugh. While he does have an occasionally oblivious boyfriend, Kurt’s still glad that Blaine manages to catch up in time.

Kurt uncrosses his arms and lets a hand pat Blaine’s cheeks affectionately. “It’s a good thing I keep you for the kisses, Blaine. Otherwise I would’ve left you long time ago for being slow.” He’s completely joking, of course. Well, at least for the last bit; Kurt really does enjoy Blaine’s kisses.

“Even if those kisses end up bruising your neck?” Blaine counters with a smirk.

Damn. Kurt almost forgot: Blaine can be smart too.

That’s okay though, Kurt’s got enough wit for the both of them regardless.

“Watch it, Blaine Warbler,” Kurt threats, throwing in the nickname only because he’s a little angry at Blaine for finding the loophole, “or I might reconsider keeping you around at all.”

Either Blaine’s a mind reader or he just knows Kurt all too well, because soon enough Blaine’s closing the distance between them, letting one of his hands settle on Kurt’s thigh.

“Really?” he challenges, his face close enough to nose his way around Kurt’s jaw, “Because I beg to differ.”

Kurt bites his lip, turning towards Blaine and tilting his head on instinct to give more room for Blaine’s head. He can’t even answer because Blaine starts mouthing at one of the hickeys, and it just happens to be at that one spot that drives Kurt crazy.

But maybe Kurt doesn’t need to answer. Their argument is soon forgotten anyway thanks to Blaine’s mouth devouring Kurt’s neck again. And Kurt has absolutely no problem with this, premature skin and interrogating family be damned.