Kurt was used to Finn coming downstairs around noon every Sunday in this black and yellow football jersey. From that time until Carole forced him to bed, he, Kurt's father, and sometimes Puck or Mike if they came over, were glued to the television watching three, sometimes four different games. Even his brief foray into the sport didn't leave him with the need to watch it THAT much. He felt better using the afternoon and evening on homework, girl time, or Blaine time.

It was January, and yet again, football was still going strong. Burt promised there wouldn't be any the following week ("Nobody cares about the Pro Bowl" were his exact words), but something super was the next Sunday. He figured he might as well watch these games before sneaking over to the Andersons for dinner and some making out. Burt and Carole were in the kitchen preparing lunch when the doorbell rang. Kurt answered, figuring Finn hadn’t even woken up yet or was in the shower. When he opened the door to see which New Directions member was coming over, he was shocked to see it was his boyfriend.

“Blaine, what are you doing here?” he asked.

“Finn invited me over for the game. We talked about doing it all summer, but since the other two games were while he wasn’t exactly fond of me, I didn’t get the chance to rib on him during them.” As Blaine removed his coat and scarf, Kurt noticed that he too was dressed in a black jersey, but this one was with orange (really, was it Halloween?) and numbered 14 instead of 7.

Kurt was still confused. “Other two? What?”

Blaine laughed. “The other times the Steelers and Bengals faced each other,” he said. “They’re division rivals so they always face each other twice a season. But with this being the AFC Championship game, it’s even bigger. The winner gets to go to the Super Bowl.”

“A bowl? Like the Hollywood Bowl?”

“No, the game is called the Super Bowl. It’s where the two best teams in the NFL battle to see…”

Blaine was cut off by Finn coming downstairs. “Forget it, he’s never gotten it any time me and Burt have explained it to him,” he said. “Ready for an epic smackdown by the Steel curtain?”

“Please. The Red Rifle is just getting started. How is that fifth cousin twice removed doing this season, by the way? His foot still bothering him?”

“Third cousin. And from what Aunt Mary said Thursday, Ben’s back at 100 percent. So you’re on, Anderson!”

Kurt knew Finn had a distant relative playing. That was the guy with the weird name whose jersey he had worn every Sunday for the past four and a half months. Out of curiosity, he checked the back of Blaine’s jersey to see if it had a name. He had to take a second glance when he saw what it said.

“Um, Blaine? Did you get a custom jersey like Carole did with Dad’s Buckeyes’ jersey?”

“What? No?” Now Blaine was confused.

Kurt looked again and said, “Then why does it say Dalton?”

“No, that’s his name. Andy Dalton. Why would you thi…ohhhhhh!” Blaine realized. “I didn’t even notice that until now!”

Kurt just shook his head. “You’re lucky I love you,” he said, punctuating his statement with a kiss.

Once the game started, Kurt realized he couldn’t get away. Blaine and Finn kept cheering when their team made a great play and yelling at every yellow flag thrown. The two quarterbacks, Roethlisberger (now that Kurt could finally pronounce it) and Dalton, were having good games, which caused the smack talk between the other two to continue. The only other name he recognized was Hines Ward, but Kurt was fairly certain he wasn’t going to be dancing around too much. He paid attention, but spent much of the time threatening Rachel for not going through the same abuse their boyfriends were laying on him.

After halftime, Kurt couldn’t hold things in any longer. “Blaine, please don’t ever let your hair get that long,” pointing to a guy on the Bengals whose locks were almost long enough to cover up the 94 on his back.

“Never,” Blaine agreed. “Besides, that’s actually a cultural thing. Peko, Maualuga, and that loser Polamalu are all from Pacific islands where the men wear their hair like that.”

“Loser? Troy has two rings. How many do those other two have?” Finn chimed in. Blaine just glared at him.

It wasn’t soon enough when the game finally ended. Cincinnati 24 Pittsburgh 17. The Steelers had tried for some religious pass as time ran out but failed. Blaine and Burt were ecstatic, cheering and high fiving each other for several minutes. Finn, being at least somewhat of a gracious loser, shook hands with both of them. “Great game. We’ll take it all next year, though. Don’t think we’ll forget!”

“It was awesome, Finn. Sorry you guys don’t get the chance to lose to Green Bay, but tell Ben he played one hell of a second half,” Blaine said before taking Kurt’s hand and walking towards the staircase.

“Wait, where are we going?” Kurt asked as they hit the landing.

“For some celebratory kisses. Your dad is so excited for the first Bengals Super Bowl in 23 years, he might not realize your door is closed for about half an hour.”