“Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet.” Blaine takes Kurt’s hand and leads him through the chattering crowds of over-enthusiastic parents and their embarrassed, tired children, show choir makeup looking ridiculous in the auditorium light. Kurt fans at his flushed cheeks, stretched by a wide smile. They won. They won. They’re going to nationals.

Blaine leads them up to a man with his back turned. He taps on his shoulder. “Coop?” The man turns around.

“Blaine!” He practically shouts, tackling him in a hug. Kurt relinquishes Blaine’s hand for this brief moment. So this is Blaine’s brother. All he can really see is a messy blond head obviously not cursed with the Anderson height genes. They pull back and Blaine immediately curls his arm around Kurt’s. “Coop, this is Kurt!” he says excitedly and Kurt tries not to blush. “Kurt, this is Cooper, my brother.”

“Good to meet you, Kurt,” Cooper says, smiling at him. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I think the last time I heard this much about someone was with Johnny Depp in sixth grade.”

“Shut up, Cooper.” But Blaine looks too happy to let any teasing get in his way now.

“No, Blainers.” Cooper pokes him in the stomach.

“Well, I guess I’m in good company,” Kurt says, elbowing Blaine in the ribs and winking at him. “Although I should have guessed when you said I should dress up as a pirate for Halloween.”

Blaine blushes. “That was a mere innocent costume suggestion.”

“Sure it was, Blaine,” says Cooper.

“Hey! No fair. You’re not allowed to gang up on me like this.”

“Blaine.”
Mr. Anderson speaks and it’s as if the temperature in the room has dropped fifteen degrees. He approaches the three boys, Mrs. Anderson on his arm, a porcelain statue. Cool, and there for decorative purposes only.

“That was a nice performance,” she says, her perfectly lipsticked smile curling up just barely. There’s an awkward pause before Coop comes to the rescue.

“I was so proud of you, man. You really owned that stage. Reminds me of when you were six and wanted to be a Kidz Bopper.”

Blaine groans. “Can we please not talk about that?”

Cooper grins, turning to Kurt. “He used to give impromptu performances. Once he jumped on the bathroom counter and fell in the sink.” Kurt snorts.

Mr. Anderson looks at Kurt as if he’s noticing him for the first time. Not bothering to hide the disgust in his voice, he says, “If you wouldn’t mind leaving, Kurt, I think Blaine would prefer to celebrate with his family.”

How would you know what he wants? Kurt wants to say.
I am his family, Kurt wants to say.
Would you do this if I were Blaine’s girlfriend? Kurt wants to say.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t because he and Blaine have talked about this, and all the discussion in the world will not get Blaine’s father to change his mind. He doesn’t want to make Blaine’s life at home any harder than it already is. So he squeezes Blaine’s hand and turns on his heel without another word, his eyes prickling with tears.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on his arm again, pulling him back towards the Andersons. Blaine’s. He’s whirled back around.

“Dad, I don’t think you understand. I want to celebrate with Kurt. It’s more our success than anything. You haven’t exactly been supportive.”

“Blaine, I don’t want to get into this right now.” Mr. Anderson dismisses him with an almost bored expression.

“Say goodbye to Kurt, honey, you’ll see him Monday at school.” Mrs. Anderson’s condescending tone raises Kurt’s hackles a little bit, and Blaine’s hand tightens on Kurt’s arm.

“No, in fact, I won’t. I’m seeing him tomorrow. We have a date, actually. Because he’s my boyfriend.” Mrs. Anderson flinches as Blaine throws the words in their faces. Kurt rubs his hand up and down his boyfriend’s arm, trying to provide a little comfort. But he can’t help but swell with pride. He just hopes Blaine won’t regret it later.

“Blaine.” Mr. Anderson’s voice snaps, brittle, tense. “We’re not discussing this here.”

“No, I think we should. Anything to keep this from turning into another ‘discussion’ about the disgrace I’m bringing upon this family.” Blaine’s voice raises another notch, and Kurt sees a curious group of teenagers glance over at them.

“Blaine, this really isn’t an appropriate subject for public, don’t you think?” Mrs. Anderson is practically simpering. Kurt bites back the urge to tell her that her dress is last season and not doing a particularly good job of hiding the run in her stockings, due to its being designed for someone about ten years younger and a few inches shorter.

“Where do you want to talk about it, Mom? Because it seems like whenever he yells at me at home, I never come out straight. Maybe a change of scenery will work.”

Mr. Anderson’s mouth flattens into a harsh frown. “This is not up for debate. We’re leaving. Now.”

“No.”

“Blaine, you don’t have a car,” Mrs. Anderson reminds him.

“I’ll ride back with Kurt. I want to spend some t-”

“No!” Mr. Anderson practically shouts. “No, you are not spending another second with that boy.”

“Dad!” But it’s not Blaine who interrupts. “What is your problem?” Cooper asks.

“I don’t have any issue with you, Cooper. Let it go.”

“Great. Now I’m being asked to keep my nose out of my own family’s business.” Cooper glares at his father. “Can you hear yourself? Do you see how you’re treating Blaine? Your own son?”

“Blaine can see his friend later,” Mrs. Anderson says.
“Really, Cooper – ”

“Boyfriend, Mom,” Blaine interjects. “He’s my boyfriend.”

“This is exactly the kind of attitude we’re trying to avoid! Cooper, do you see the kind of belligerence we put up with?”

Cooper shakes his head. “No. All I’m seeing is you denying my brother the right to spend his time with someone he loves. Because of your own stupid prejudices.” He sighs. “I really thought you had changed, Dad. You always seem to have a good way of reminding me why I left the last time.”

“Don’t you start this again, Cooper. I’m not in the mood.”

“Too bad for your fucking mood, because you’re being completely ignorant.”

“Cooper! Do not use that kind of language when speaking to your father!” Mrs. Anderson’s mauve lipstick plays nicely on her outraged expression.

“What? Ignorant?” Cooper smirks. “It’s the truth.”

“Don’t you speak to me that way,” Mr. Anderson says.

“I’ll speak this way to anyone who treats my baby brother like this.”

Mr. Anderson raises his voice. “He’s my son, and I will be the one to deal with his – deviancy!”

“Deviancy, Dad? Just come out and say it!” Blaine matches his father’s volume.

“You think you’re such a victim. But you’re not. If you would just man up and stop this – this nonsense, then maybe you’d have a chance.” Mr. Anderson’s eyes are bright with concentration as he turns on Blaine, his words coming hard and fast. “Maybe I should put you at your old school, force you to live in the real world this time. Maybe you’d change your mind.”

Blaine suddenly goes silent, his shoulders shaking in anger. Then he says quietly, “You don’t get to dictate what I do. You don’t get to tell me who I love. And I love Kurt.”

“Love?” Mr. Anderson’s calm fa�ade is far from broken, he’s sweating, face flushed, spit flying as he screams at Blaine. “You think this is love?” The room is abuzz with nervous chatter from the other families. Everyone is looking. “This is sick. And I won’t see my son become a fucking fag!”

Blaine rushes at him and Kurt barely manages to hold him back. “Blaine, stop!” he shouts, because as much as Blaine’s father deserves a broken nose, he doesn’t want Blaine to have to be the one to do it. He knows that would wreck him. So he pulls at his boyfriend, listening to his frustrated grunts and muttered curses, and how they taper off into breathless crying as he gives up, his arms curling around Kurt in a silent plea to be held. His tears run hot down Kurt’s cheek. Cooper is shouting at their parents in the background, white noise in Kurt’s ears behind Blaine’s ragged breathing. His heart feels like it’s being ripped open and then he’s crying too, his arms cinching tighter around Blaine’s waist. They hold each other until the Andersons storm out, leaving the room whispering and Cooper glaring at nothing, leaving Kurt kissing at Blaine’s tears and Blaine an utter ruin of a son.

….

“Why didn’t you call me, Blaine?” Cooper asks tiredly on the way to the Hummels’, his hands shifting on the steering wheel. “I told you to call if it got worse.”

“You were busy with college,” Blaine mumbles into Kurt’s sweater. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Blaine, if you were any more self-sacrificing, Mother Teresa would worship at your feet. This is masochism. How the hell are you still living with him?”

“I just have to survive through high school,” Blaine murmurs, though he doesn’t sound as if he really believes it.

“Why didn’t you talk to me, Blaine? You know I’m always here for you.” Kurt strokes his boyfriend’s hair.

“I didn’t want to worry you.” Blaine pushes his forehead into Kurt’s shoulder. “Stupid, I know. But I was afraid that once you saw how fucked-up my parents were…you’d figure out that – ” He glances down and Kurt can barely hear “…I’m not worth it.” The tears start up again, wetting his eyelashes.

“Blaine Anderson,” Kurt says, framing Blaine’s face with his hands, “Of course you’re worth it. This can’t be a one-sided relationship, Blaine. I need to support you, too.” He brushes the pad of his thumb over Blaine’s cheekbone. “I’m not mad, I just need you to know. You should talk about these things, Blaine. You’d be surprised how much it can help.” God, he’d do anything to see Blaine smile right now. “I love you so much, Blaine. No matter what you say, I always will. And nothing’s going to take me away from you.”

“I love you too,” Blaine whispers.

…..

They’re sitting in the Hummels’ living room, Kurt holding Blaine on the couch, where occasionally he’ll let out a little hiccup and a sigh. Cooper flicks a finger over the screen of his smartphone. Kurt sees him pull the Anderson’s home number up, hesitate, and then shove his phone back in his pocket with an irritated jerk of his neck, putting his elbows on his knees and pinching the bridge of his nose. Kurt pulls Blaine closer and buries his nose in his curly hair.

Burt walks in, Carole close behind. “Are you guys okay?” Carole asks. “Finn told us about what happened, and…” she tucks a stray curl behind her ear, “Blaine, I’m so sorry.”

Blaine sits up. “S’okay,” he mumbles, rubbing at his eyes.

“No, it’s not,” Burt interjects. “It’s not. That man is a father and to see him twist his responsibilities like that…” He rubs absently at his knuckles. “I’ll tell you, it gets to me.” He crosses the room and squats in front of Blaine, knees creaking. “But Blaine – I think you know this already, but kid – you deserve so much better than that kind of treatment. And we’re here to give you that. You’re a good kid, Blaine. You’ve treated my son well, and – not to bring incest into it - ” he winks – “I’d be honored to have you as a son.”

Another tear slips down Blaine’s cheek, and Kurt has never wanted to hug his father more than in this moment. Burt stands up, ruffling Blaine’s hair and moving back over to Carole.

“You make a pretty decent brother, too,” Coop says quietly from where he’s sitting. “Annoying over-enthusiasm for Star Wars aside.” Blaine chuckles and then sniffs, swiping his wrists across his eyes. “I wish I could tell you that Dad is just in a mood and he’ll stop soon, but he won’t. We both know that. But I can tell you he’s wrong. Completely wrong. There’s nothing wrong about you, Blaine. There’s everything right.”

“I – I just – “ Blaine grasps at Kurt’s hand. “I d-don’t understand what more I have to do. I work hard at school, I don’t party every weekend or come to school stoned, and I’m not knocking anyone up. What else can I do?”

“Nothing, Blaine.” Blaine bites at his lip and nods. “It doesn’t have a thing to do with what you do. It just has to do with what you are. And that’s the most despicable bit.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t come out to you first, Coop.”

“Me too, buddy. I would have been a lot nicer about it. Might’ve given you an Indian burn, though.”

“But that happened every time we were in a ten-foot radius of each other.” Blaine laughs quietly, but then becomes more serious. “W-what did you think? When I did?”

Cooper laughs. “Honestly, I wasn’t surprised. In a good way.” He gets up and moves over to the couch, sitting beside Blaine and putting a comforting hand on his thigh. “Blaine, I knew you were gay when you wouldn’t shut up about how much you loved the princes in Disney movies.” Blaine lets out a choked laugh. “I remember you wanted to be Belle one year so you could have a nice golden outfit – and get your prince.” He looks up at Kurt for a moment. “Well, it looks like you found him. You just take care of him and everything will be fine.”

Blaine tightens his hold on Kurt’s hand and whispers hoarsely, “Of course.” As if Kurt’s heartstrings hadn’t suffered enough tonight. He squeezes Blaine’s hand, lifting their intertwined fingers and kissing Blaine’s knuckles. “You’ve got me forever,” he reminds Blaine. Blaine lets out one last hiccupping sob, burying his face in the crook of Kurt’s neck.

“I know, Kurt. Thank you. I – I love you so much. Kurt, I just love y-you so much and I –” he takes in a deep, shuddering breath – “I can’t let him take you away from me. I just can’t.”

“Even if he tries, I won’t go,” Kurt says, pressing a kiss to the top of Blaine’s head, pulling him closer, breathing in the smell of his scalp and shampoo. “I love you,” he whispers.

Cooper stands up and rubs Blaine’s shoulder before turning away to get to the door. Burt sticks his hand out for Cooper to shake.

“Good to see someone in that family is taking care of this kid,” Burt says gruffly. He seems to be on the edge of tears himself, although he’d never admit it.

“And I’m sorry I can’t do it more often,” Cooper says, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. “But Dad and I will be exchanging a few choice words tonight, you can count on it.”

“You stay careful, kid. I don’t want to think of anything happening that you can’t fix. And let us know if you need anything while you’re in Lima.”

“Sure. I get the feeling I’ll be seeing plenty of your son anyway,” he says, cracking a smile. Then it drops. “Blaine…we have to go. It’s getting late.”

Carole steps in. “Why doesn’t Blaine stay here for the night?” Burt grunts noncommittally. “He can sleep in the guest room.”

Blaine lifts his head weakly. “No, it’s fine, Mr. and Mrs. Hummel-Hudson, I don’t want to impose.”

Carole elbows Burt in the ribs and he rolls his eyes. “It’s fine, kid. And you might as well just sleep in the basement with Kurt. I don’t want him hurting himself trying to get up to your room in the dark.”

Kurt sighs. “Thanks, Dad.”

“No problem, bud. And Coop, if you want to stay too, of course we have no problem with that. It’s pretty late.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be able to get back. And I’d like to have this talk with our father as soon as possible. I’ll be around, though. Can’t stand to miss my baby brother any more than I already do.” He pushes the door open to the dark porch. “Bye, Mr. Hummel-Hudson. Carole. See you in the morning, Blaine.” He pauses for a moment more. “Bye, Kurt.”

“Be seeing you, kid,” Burt says. Cooper leaves, walking out to his car. Burt shuts the door and locks it. “All right. I think we should all head to bed. Kurt, door open.”

“Sure, Dad.” Kurt doesn’t think he can argue with his father after he’s seen how much worse he could have it. And it’s not as if Blaine’s in any shape to do anything anyway. Or that Kurt would try it. They’re both drained.

“Kurt, maybe you could lend Blaine some of Finn’s clothes? There are some t-shirts on the washing machine.”

“Okay. Come on, Blaine.” He stands up and Blaine follows him automatically, but not before saying, “Thank you so much, Mr. and Mrs. Hummel-Hudson. It means a lot.”

“Kid,” Burt says, “If you don’t start calling me Burt we’re going to have to start training you like we did with Finn and replacing the empty toilet paper rolls.”

“I think Blaine would pick up a little faster,” Kurt says half under his breath.

“Good night, kids. I’ll see you both in the morning.”

“Good night…Burt.” Blaine maintains his tight hold on Kurt’s hand.

“There you go, kid.” Burt turns down the hall to go to his and Carole’s room. Carole turns to them, kissing them both on the forehead, her eyes bright. “Good night, boys. Sweet dreams.” She follows Burt.

When both of them are out of sight, Blaine sags against Kurt. “Shh, Blaine, it’s okay. They really want you to stay here. They don’t mind.”

“I’m so much trouble, though, Kurt – I just – ”

“Blaine. You are not trouble. They want you here. No one wants you to have to face your dad tonight. We just want you to have a little peace for once. I, for one, think you deserve that much.”

Blaine looks up at him, reaching up to stroke Kurt’s cheek. “I still can’t believe I deserve you.”

Kurt blushes under the pad of Blaine’s thumb. “You do. Probably more than I deserve you.”

“I’d debate that,” Blaine says, stretching up on his tiptoes for a quick, gentle kiss. “We dese-erve each other,” he sings in warbling, broken tones, his voice cracking. Kurt snorts, pressing a kiss to his temple.
“Let’s get you some of Finn’s clothes before you pass out in my arms. I may be your – prince – ” he still can’t believe how amazing that sounds – “but I don’t think I could carry you down the stairs. Not in these shoes.”

“Actually, Kurt –” Blaine bites his lip – “Could I wear some of your clothes instead?” He hangs his head a little. “God, that sounds so creepy. It’s just – they’d smell like you.” He looks up and into Kurt’s eyes. Kurt throws his arms around his boyfriend, pulling him close. “God, Blaine. I don’t think you’re allowed to be this wonderful.” Blaine just buries his face in Kurt’s neck, inhaling slowly, tightening his fingers in Kurt’s shirt.

After a few minutes they have to break apart and they stumble down the dark basement stairs. Kurt flicks the lightswitch once they get to the bottom. The sudden light throws his boyfriend’s face into sharp relief, highlighting the shadows at his temples and the way his eyelashes, wetted into triangles, brush his face as he blinks slowly, the way he does when he’s tired after a long night of Calc AB or Ray Bradbury. He guides Blaine to the bed, pushing him gently to sit down and kissing him on the fore head. “Let me find you some clothes.” Kurt turns to his dresser and digs through his drawers before coming up with a plain white v-neck and some sweatpants. “These should fit. Do you want to change in the bathroom?” He turns back to find Blaine studying him, the way he does sometimes – in class or in the hallway, at the movies or after a night together.

“I really don’t want to be alone. Even if it’s just for a few minutes. I just…I don’t want to be apart from you. Especially tonight.” Blaine looks apologetic and Kurt leans in, kissing him on the nose, and Blaine smiles, his concern melting away.

“I love you.” Kurt kisses Blaine.

“I love you too.” Blaine smiles into the kiss.

So Blaine changes in his room and Kurt tries not to look, and Blaine teases him about taking advantage of his poor emotionally fragile boyfriend, and Kurt blushes so Blaine starts tickling him and then they’re both laughing and kissing each other on the bed and Kurt’s shirt comes off somehow and Blaine’s shirt never makes it on; they fall asleep pressed skin to skin, warm and content, and very much in love. Blaine gets to be the little spoon and he wakes up to Kurt’s soft cheek on his shoulder. He rolls over and Kurt murmurs his name, shifting and waking up slowly. He presses a kiss to Kurt’s warm lips and then he spends the morning in Kurt’s arms. They spend the day the way they will spend the rest of their lives: despite everything, together.