“I can't believe this, little shit making me leave work,” Kurt muttered as he parked his car in his son's school's parking lot. The principal had called the countertenor ten minutes earlier to inform him that his son had engaged in a physical confrontation with another student. Kurt blamed his husband for taking Marc to those stupid boxing lessons. He walked towards the school's entrance, the car making a noise as he pressed the lock button on his clicker. He adjusted his sunglasses and tightened the belt on his black trench coat, catching a glance of himself in the door's reflection.

Kurt travelled through the corridor of the school before finding the principal's office. His son attended the New York Dalton academy; many had popped up all over the United States. His eyes narrowed as he saw his son's chocolate brown hair, neatly styled with a slight shaggy fringe, sitting next to Blaine. Blaine pointed to his husband and their son paled. 

“Dad, Im so sorry,” Marc tried to apologies.

“Not a word out of you,” he told sternly, he was about to continue before they were called in.

“I love it when you take control,” Blaine teased as he whispered in Kurt's ear. The countertenor rolled his eye before sending his husband a wink and walking off, ignoring the delighted look on the other man's face.

“Mr Anderson, Mr Hummel, please take a seat,” Mr Roberts said, gesturing to the empty seats opposite to his desk. They both sat down, Marc sitting in the chair between them. “Thank you for coming in and taking time away from work.”

“Yes, well I hope Marc can appreciate how busy I am at the moment with fashion week fast approaching-“

“I said I was sorry.”

“Quiet,” Kurt snapped before turning back to the principal.

“As you both know, earlier today your son was involved in a fight with another student-“

“He deserved it!” Marc protested, Kurt just rolled his eyes.

“Though I may agree with you, that some of the things that Luke had said where not acceptable neither were your actions. Dalton has a president for the highest of behavioural standards and both of you have shamed the Dalton name today. Usually in situations like this, the only acceptable punishment would be expulsion,” principal Roberts told seriously. ‘Great,' Kurt thought sarcastically. The whole reason they had sent their son there was because of Blaine's family tradition, now along with finishing garments for fashion week that was less than two weeks away; he would have to find his son another school to go. He supposed his husband could do it but who would know where he would send him.

“But,” Principal Roberts began, “since Marc's actions were in self-defence for his family and what Luke had said defaces Dalton policies, I am suspending your son for one week and for him to write an essay on how fighting doesn't solve anything and only creates more tension between two people.”

“You'll help me with that wont you dad?” Marc asked Blaine hopefully which Blaine laughed and shook his head.

“You're on your own with that one.”

“Why did you even have me?” Marc asked bitterly.

“It was a warm summer's night, your father looked amazing in his black skinny leg jeans-“

“Ahem,” Kurt cleared his throat loudly, glaring at his husband before standing up and shaking the principals' hand. “Thank you principal Robert, I'll make sure Marc starts that essay as soon as he returns home.”

“That's great. I hope everything goes well for you at fashion week Mr Hummel, I cant wait to see what you come up with.” With a polite thank you, the family left and made their way out to the parking lot. They made their way over to the father's cars which were packed next to each other, where Kurt leant against his car with his arms crossed.

“Ok so please explain to me why Im here at your high school in the middle of work,” Kurt said tiredly.

“There was a brave young soldier named Marc who-“

“Marc cut the crap and tell me the truth.”

“I had a whole story planned out, are you sure you don't want to hear it?”

“We're sure,” Blaine told them.

“Ok well…”

Marc was sitting in the cafeteria with his math text book in front of him while his two friends were sitting across from him, giggling and doing couple-y shit he supposed. He wasnt even focusing on them, he was trying to figure out why his book was written in Chinese, well it could be in Chinese for the amount of sense it made to him. He was trying to figure out the dependant when he rolled his eyes when he heard his friends start kissing.

“Dudes, seriously I see enough of this at home,” Marc said, tapping his pen against the table.

“Come on Marcie, Liam wasnt at school yesterday and it's been like forever since I've seen him,” Zack replied with a wide love struck grin before leaning over and kissing his boyfriend.

“Disgusting,” Marc muttered, writing down the answer in his book. Liam glanced over and smiled.

“That's wrong.”

“Come on!” Marc shouted in defeat, closing the book and crossing his arms over his chest. The two boys laughed before kissing each other again.

“Well isn't that just vulgar,” a cold menacing voice sounded from behind them, the couple immediately separating to glare at the other boy. Luke Mraz, one of the rudest boy's in school. Most people hated him because of his attitude and he wasnt enjoyable to be around.

“Luke what do we owe the pleasure?” Marc asked sarcastically.

“Well I saw this distasteful acted by these two and I thought I should put a stop to it before it burnt out my retinas.”

“Oh I thought looking in the mirror would have done that,” Marc said innocently, earning a chuckle from the surrounding people who had started to listen.

“Well I don't know how you can even look at yourself in the mirror knowing what kind of abomination you are. It astounds me how father wasnt killed when he was pregnant, I would have aided in it if I had the chance,” he said, his radiating with malice. Marc's hand clenched into a fist.

“I'd be careful what you say about my parents,” Marc warned, mentally counting to ten to calm down.

“Well if your father hasn't already” 1, 2, 3 “it wouldn't be surprising if he dies of aids” 4, 5 “repugnant fag.” Ok time to die. Marc gripped his text book, and slammed it into the side of Luke's face, his feet lifting off the ground before he fell to the ground. The teen just looked at it in awe. So that's what those books were for. Luke shook his head, slowly getting to his feet before getting into a fighting stance. A chanting of ‘fight' surrounded them as Luke took a swing at Marc which missed, the teen tackling him to the ground and punching him in the face.

“That's about it,” Marc finished awkwardly; “I wouldn't have done it if it was something else but I hated the way he was talking about you.” Kurt's facial expression softened and gave his son a firm hug.

“I love you but you are grounded for two weeks,” he told, hearing the teen groan. “For making me leave work, now go home with your father and start that essay or I'll kick your butt if you don't have the intro and the first body paragraph written.”

Blaine and Marc walked to the black Mercedes, play fighting and dodging punches. Kurt just sighed, some boys just never grow up no matter how old they get.