"Nothing says 'you're special'…" Blaine whispered in Kurt's ear, taking a paper plate off the stack at the end of the buffet table. "…stronger than Chinet."

Kurt giggled lightly. "…What…?"

"You're family really cares about self esteem." Blaine placed his free hand on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt's brow furrowed, and Blaine realized he was genuinely confused. "These plates are Chinet," Blaine held the paper plate in front of his boyfriend and pointed to the brand-name that was embedded in the middle of it. "…You don't remember those commercials…?"

Kurt blinked and shook his head. He patted Blaine on the shoulder. "You're special," He said, his eyes almost sympathetic. "What about that? Did I say it strongly enough for you?"

"Nope," Blaine shrugged dopily. "The plates still said it better."

The buffet line started moving, and Kurt became scooping potato salad onto his plate. He turned over his shoulder, still holding the ladle. "Hon, do you want some?"

"Yes please…"

As Kurt served Blaine, Finn came up behind them.

"Kurt. Your Grandpa's insisting that the three of us come eat with him on the patio."

Kurt raised his eyebrows skeptically. "…Oh…?"

Finn, who was already holding two loaded plates, said, "Hurry up. He's kind of scary and I'm not sure how I feel being alone with him."

Kurt's Grandpa Henry, his mom's dad, was a world war two veteran, and he didn't like to let anyone forget that. Although, Burt had told the boys with a smirk earlier that week that "veteran" was sort of an overstatement. Apparently Henry had shipped off to Europe a week before the end of the war, and never even fought. Physically, Grandpa Henry didn't seem like a military man. He was short, kind of like Blaine was short, and had delicate features, which Kurt had inherited. However, there was something intimidating about the stern and quiet way the man spoke that allowed Kurt to understand why Finn might be afraid of him.

"Hey Grandpa," Kurt said cheerily as he led Finn and Blaine out to the patio. The ninety-year-old man, still in excellent shape, shifted in his chair balancing his plate in his lap. He lifted his bony arms and opened them, inviting his grandson for a hug. Kurt put his food on an open chair and accepted it. "Oh goodness," The old man said quietly, holding tight. "You're so much like her…"

Grandpa Henry came to Lima once a year: his daughter's birthday. The late Mrs. Hummel was loved by a lot of people. When Kurt was ten, he and his father decided that they'd have a party for all those people. They figured just because she'd died didn't mean they still couldn't celebrate her life.

As Kurt let go of his grandfather and went to his seat, his mind wandered to the night, earlier that week, when he'd first told Blaine about the tradition.

Finn and Carole were out, and his Dad was still at the garage so the house was quiet. Kurt and Blaine lay on Kurt's bed facing each other, playing with each other's fingers but barely touching anywhere else. Kurt loved to kiss Blaine, and there were times he preferred a make-out session to anything else. But moments like that, where they just lay at ease, their voices hushed for almost no reason at all, studying each other's faces, were his favorite. Making out could be exhausting, but he could just lie there, looking at Blaine, forever.

"We don't really talk to my mom's family much," Kurt told him. "It might be a bit awkward this year; now that Dad's remarried."

"They knew he was dating, though, didn't they? It's been a long time. They couldn't have expected him to wait forever."

"I guess not." Kurt sighed. "I just hope they treat Finn and Carole okay. Like, I know no one will actually say anything, but I want Finn and Carole to feel included."

Blain inched forward and kissed his boyfriend lightly on the lips. "I love how much you care."

And all of a sudden, Kurt didn't feel like just lying there anymore. He caught a handful of Blaine's hair and kissed back forcefully, shoving his tongue into Blaine's mouth and pressing his fingers against his firm abdomen.

Sitting in front of his grandfather that weekend, Kurt quickly realized where his thoughts were about to take him, and knew that he had to think about something else, and quick. He cleared his throat. "You know, grandpa…Finn and I are in Glee club."

"Your mother was in choir, did you know that?" His grandpa told him. "You're taking after her."

"Finn's the co-captain, actually," Kurt continued, because he'd been the topic of conversation for seventeen years, and he felt that now the family should get to meet Finn.

His grandfather smiled politely, nodding at the taller boy. Then, he looked to Blaine. "Are you in this club with them?"

"Actually, I'm in another show choir. I go to Dalton Academy, actually. We compete against them."

"Really…" Grandpa Henry leaned back in his chair, cupping a hand over his mouth and chin thoughtfully. "Fraternizing with the enemy, now, are you?"

"Oh, well, I guess you could call it that…" Blaine and Kurt exchanged amused glances.

"How are you two friends then?"

Kurt was in mid-bite as his grandfather asked this question, and he chewed slowly, using the food in his mouth as an excuse to hesitate. Blaine and Finn both watched him unsurely, clearly trying to decide if they should speak for him.

Friends…he realized that's all Henry thought they were. But, he reminded himself, that wasn't the question that was being asked.

"I transferred to Dalton for a while," He told his grandfather uneasily. "For about five months, this past year."

"That seems a little impractical," His grandfather pointed out. "…that's not even a full year. Why would you change schools mid-year and not even stick to it?"

He didn't know what to say. Honestly, he hated when this topic came up. It was humiliating.

Finn saved him, "Kurt's um...grades were really good…and Dalton had um…"

Kurt jumped in, because he knew Finn's vocabulary wasn't advanced enough to convince his grandfather of anything. "It was an accelerated curriculum…it was better for me." He didn't look up from his plate. He was ashamed to be lying. "…But we had some insurance and um…tax issues…because of Dad's heart…It turned out we couldn't afford it."

"Well, your father should've called me," Henry scoffed surprisingly. "I would gladly pay your tuition. Dalton's an acclaimed learning institution and I would've been proud if I knew my grandson was attending. Now, transferring a third time might be a bit much, but if you'd consider letting me take care of it…"

"No!" Kurt spoke quickly. "It turned out I missed my friends. I mean, I'd like to spend senior year with them, you know..."

"Well, clearly your better friends with this boy from Dalton," His grandpa suggested. "I don't see any of your public school friends at this intimate family affair."

Blaine was grinning down at his plate; just grinning. Kurt had no idea why.

"Finn's here, isn't he?" Kurt tried.

But his grandfather said nothing.

After they finished eating, the boys went into the kitchen to throw away their plates. Burt caught his son at the trash. "Hey, Kurt, why don't you do me a favor and take those bags out…"

Kurt silently obeyed.

As he tied up the large plastic sacks, he had a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. He realized that it was guilt. He realized how gross he felt about hiding the truth. This was his mother's family, and he knew that his mother would want them to know the real him. But there were so many aspects of the conversation that just weren't worth getting into: Dalton especially.

As he lifted the trash bags into the big can, he heard the door into the house open behind him. He turned around to see Blaine shutting it.

"What are you…?"

"Shut up…" Blaine quickly advanced on him. He grabbed Kurt by the shoulders and twirled him ninety degrees, shoving him up against Burt's work bench. He attacked Kurt's lips, running his hands down the front of Kurt's linen shirt.

Kurt eventually pushed him away. "My entire extended family is right through that door, Blaine."

Blaine nodded dismissively as he undid the top button of Kurt's shirt and started nibbling at his collar bone. Kurt giggled, ticklish. "Seriously, Blaine…" He tried to protest as Blaine reached for the button of his pants. "Now, Blaine…seriously…?"

"Mhmmm,"

"Why…?" Kurt whined, although he didn't even begin to try to push his boyfriend away.

"I don't know," Blaine was getting to his knees. "The way you were with your grandpa. You seem…stressed…

When Blaine was finished, he helped Kurt with his pants. He stood up and leaned against the work bench next to him.

"So…maybe that wasn't right," He said, smiling goofily.

"Why…Do you want me to return the favor?"

Blaine actually paused to think about his answer, but then decided to be honorable. "No. I mean, maybe this is the part where I ask you if you want to talk about it. I mean, I don't want to be the guy who thinks I can solve every problem my putting your penis in my mouth."

Kurt rolled his eyes, trying not to tell himself that he might actually enjoy a relationship like that. But he realized that right now, talking would really help him.

"I don't want them to worry about me." Kurt told him. "I'm really…all that's left of her. I don't want them to feel sorry for me, or think of my life as some sort of tragedy. They're all going to ask about my life and so much about what's happened in the past year is just humiliating. I would hate it if they just felt sorry for me."

"Kurt…" Blaine's eyes filled with sadness. He reached out and pressed his palm against his boyfriend's cheek. Kurt tilted his head, pressing into it. He stroked Blaine's wrist and accepted his gentle kiss. "I know it's hard, but I know you're stronger than this."

"Whatever I say to them," Kurt said. "It's just going to be a conversation topic. It's going to distract from anything else that's actually important."

"But Kurt," Blaine started to reason. "They're going to ask the questions. That's inevitable. That doesn't mean you have to lie."

"I know…"

"Your mom would've wanted them to know her son: her real son…"

Kurt's eyes watered. He was touched by the fact that Blaine really understood. "…I know…" He choked.

"We'll be discreet," Blaine told him. "You can tell them things without getting into the mellow-drama. Actually, I'm sure they'll ask fewer questions if you're up front right away. I think your grandfather was trying to test you."

Kurt nodded. "You're right…"

Blaine sighed. "I'm always right," He feigned cockiness.

"Have I mentioned I love you?"

Blaine grabbed his boyfriends hand and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you too."

Kurt and Blaine snuck back into the house, both of them afraid of being caught by Burt and interrogated about what they'd been doing together in the garage.

"Well, well," Kurt's Aunt Abby, a tall brunette woman with a button-nose and rabbit-like teeth approached them, looking more than excited by their presence. "Kurt, I've been looking around here for you for just about forever…where did you run off to?"

"We were taking the trash out," Blaine offered smarmily.

Kurt exhaled audibly, then realized he was on the verge of laughter and bit down on his lip.

Abby examined Blaine carefully, her eyes narrowing. "Are you a friend of Kurt's from school?"

Kurt's heart skipped a beat, and then he decisively put his arm around Blaine. "Actually, this is my boyfriend, Blaine…"

A strange grin came over her face. "Oh. I was wondering…" She forced herself to think of something else to say. "How long have you two been together?"

Blaine grinned, looking at Kurt. "Well it was March, right…?"

"Yep," Kurt took Blaine's hand. "So, about three months now…"

"That's impressive for kids your age," She told them sincerely. "Well…I'm going to go over and say hi to Aunt Susan if you'll excuse me."

Blaine's eyes followed the woman as she scurried off.

"Why do I feel like she just won a bet?" Blaine leaned in and said quietly to Kurt.

Kurt sighed. "I'm assuming my sexuality has been speculated for years," He told his boyfriend. "Of course, now this is all they'll talk about for the rest of the day." So much for Finn and Carol feeling included; no one was going to even remember they were there now.

"Well," Blaine chuckled. "I'm sorry to be causing uproar..."

Kurt gave Blaine a soft nudge. "It's worth it to be able to show you off."

Suddenly, Finn marched up to them, a scandalous grin on his face.

"Hey guys…" He said slowly and knowingly, walking in between them and putting an arm around each of their shoulders. "…what were you two doing in the garage for so long?"

"Shut up, Finn," Kurt said tersely.

Just seconds later, a voice snapped at him from across the kitchen. "Kurt!"

It was Grandpa Henry. He looked mad. Kurt marveled about how fast news had traveled.

"Hey Grandpa," He said nervously.

"Can you come over here for a moment?"

Blaine gave him a tight lipped smile of encouragement. He smiled back then went over to the old man.

Henry placed a withered and frail hand on his grandson's shoulder. Kurt held his breath as he waited for the man to speak.

"Does he treat you right, Kurt?" The man asked. Kurt realized that he was gesturing to Blaine. He felt his cheeks flush.

"Yeah, Grandpa," Kurt said. "He's pretty incredible."

"Hold on to him then," He gave Kurt a little shake. "I can tell he's one of the special ones."

"Yeah," Kurt nodded. Blaine had caught him staring and was smiling lovingly across the room. "He's really special."