The first time he met the Mr. Hummel, Blaine had been caught off guard. It was unusual for Blaine seeing as he was always on guard but that night his head had clearly been elsewhere. He had gotten tickets for him and Kurt to see a local production of Rent. He had been too excited by the prospect of a fun evening alone with his new friend whose face had lit up at the invitation to a show that they apparently both loved. Blaine loved the theater, even smaller, armature productions and he loved the idea of creating a little joy in Kurt's life. Focused solely on those elements of the autumn night, Blaine had eagerly jumped out of his car and bounded up the path to the front door, ringing the bell and anxiously awaiting his date.
He was startled when a large man in old, worn jeans and an equally used plaid shirt opened the door instead of a tall slender boy, dressed sharp and no doubt stylish that he expected. He fumbled for words, leaning back slightly to check the numbers beside the door in case he had come to the wrong house. The man spoke before he could confirm though.
"Ah, and you must be the infamous Blaine. Come on in, he's still spraying fumes and whatnot into his hair," the man spoke as he gestured for Blaine to enter. "You know he gets on my case about breathing in car fumes all day but if you ask me, that hair gunk is just as bad. I probably shouldn't be talking to you about it though. You seem to use that goop too," he continued as he walked through to the living room which he had clearly just vacated and retook his seat on the arm chair that was easily just as worn as his clothes. Blaine flushed a little at the comment about his hair as he followed, a little unsure of what to do but sat stiffly on the couch when he was offered a seat.
From Kurt's descriptions of his father, Blaine had no doubt that this was him. He began kicking himself over his less than impressive greeting at the door because of course Kurt's father would most likely be home and introduced to him tonight. He had failed to realize this earlier though and had therefore no prepared himself. Typically, Blaine was good with adults, that's just the person he was but fathers were different. Blaine did not like fathers.
"So you taking my son out tonight," the man stated with an air of intimidation in his voice after taking a sip of beer from the can in his hand.
"Uh, yes sir," Blaine stammered in return. "We're uh, we're only friends though."
"Yes, yes, that's what he tells me, a lot actually. Hasn't shut up about you in days." Blaine was flattered by the confession but very unsure of how to respond. Mr. Hummel did not give him a chance though and carried on in speech. "You see kid, boys are not nice to Kurt. He used to talk about this football player, Finn, every now and again. I knew he didn't have a shot in hell but it was nice to see him smile when he spoke, trying to act all nonchalant and crap but I saw right through it. Then one day I come home and this kid is yelling at my son, calling him a fag to his face, in his own house, own room. Now you seem a little shocked but the reason I'm telling you this is because I yelled that kid out of my house and I ain't afraid to do the same to you. I know you boys are friends but I also know he'd follow you to the ends of the earth in an instant. He's a smart boy, way smarter than I'll ever be and I give him credit to know what's good for him. He seems to think you fit the bill so for now I'm happy to see him happy but I will make sure that the person responsible for any changes to this mood will be held accountable. Understand?"
"Y-yes, of course," Blaine blurted immediately, hoping his speed would somehow help him. He was also hoping Kurt would hurry up because at this rate he was going to sweat through his shirt if he had not already.
"I would also appreciate if you did not tell Kurt about this conversation. You know, act all surprised when he tells you about Finn because I know he will. He just wouldn't be very thrilled with me if he thought I was scaring you off."
"No, of course not, sir."
"Good. Now do you watch football, kid?" Mr. Hummel asked, his serious tone finally fading and a hint of a smile forming.
"Yeah, the Buckeyes are on tonight. I'm taping the game so I won't miss it," Blaine replied eagerly.
"Perfect, we can watch it while we wait for Kurt. He shouldn't be long now."
It was not five minutes later that Kurt appeared before them dressed in dark jeans, a light blue button down, and a charcoal grey vest, his hair styled to perfection. Blaine got up from where had finally relaxed into the coach and gave him a quick hello hug.
"Ready?" He asked with a grin.
"All set. Bye dad."
"What time will you be home?"
"Between ten thirty and eleven," Blaine answered confidently.
"I'll be waiting."
"Dad, that's really unnecessary," Kurt huffed in good nature.
"So is your hair gunk."
Blaine chuckled at Mr. Hummel's obvious ongoing distain for hair products and Kurt's horrified reaction before leading him out the door. Once in the car Kurt spoke up, his speech state now overcome.
"He's just jealous because he's bald so he can use any hair products."
"Yeah, that's it," Blaine returned with an amused grin. He was swiftly swatted in the arm by the boy in the passenger seat and informed to drive. He glanced over at Kurt as he started down the road and noticed a smile gracing his face. Blaine rarely left his house in a good mood but then again, his father was nothing like Mr. Hummel.
