A/N: I've had this one in the works for a while, but wasn't sure if I liked it enough to fully develop it. On one of my last stories, tsay cresant commented on how I should have Kurt meet Blaine's parents. They're not quite as overprotective, but they are awkward! I hope you like it. And again, thank you all for the reviews/favorites/alerts-they're the best part of my day. You guys are my favorites, and if it wasn't potentially illegal, I'd find you all and give you hugs. :)

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By the way, just in case you were unsure, I do not own Glee.

"Kurt," Blaine said, shifting nervously on his couch, "I need to ask you something."

"What is it? And why are you so nervous? Are you breaking up with me? I knew it would happen, my dad's finally scared you-"

"No, no," Blaine laughed, but then returned to his nervous fidgeting, "my parents want me to have you over for dinner."

"I thought they weren't okay with the whole…gay thing."

"They're not, but I won't shut up about you, so I think they're going to try…otherwise they're borrowing a page out of your dad's book and trying to scare you away. Maybe they're in cahoots?"

"I don't think so," Kurt giggled, "and no one could ever scare me away from you."

"So," Kurt continued, "when is this dinner? And oh my God, what should I wear? Should I tone it down? I know I can be a little intense, and I don't want to embarrass you-"

"Kurt, you could come naked and I wouldn't be embarrassed, actually, come naked," Blaine winked at him.

The boys heard someone clear their throat in the kitchen. "The words naked and Kurt should not be used in the same sentence," Burt growled, "are we clear?"

"Yes sir," Blaine replied, rolling his eyes, "should he wear a parka?"

"None of that attitude, you're lucky I still let you in my house after that tomfoolery with the shower."

"Thank you Mr. Hummel, and rest assured that my parents will see to it that Kurt stays clothed throughout the entire dinner," Blaine sarcastically replied.

"Good," Burt grunted from the kitchen, "but just in case: no funny business. I can tell when that happens."

Kurt and Blaine both rolled their eyes towards the kitchen, then picked up their conversation.

"So, when is this dinner?" Kurt asked.

"Well," replied Blaine, looking at his cell phone, "about three hours."

"Three hours?" Kurt shrieked. "You mean that I only have an hour and a half to get ready? Oh my God, what am I going to wear? Blaine Anderson, I hate you!"

Kurt ran up the stairs to his room, where Blaine could hear him feverishly going through his closet and cursing his name. Blaine started to go up the stairs, dreading the state he'd find Kurt in. I really should have told him earlier, he thought, he's going to kill me!

"Door stays open," Burt shouted from the kitchen, "and no shirtless anything!"

"Yes sir, I'll just be helping Kurt pick an outfit to meet my parents in," Blaine called down the stairs.

Blaine was not ready for what he found when he reached Kurt's room. Kurt had a waist-high pile of clothing on the floor in the middle of his room.

"What do YOU want?" Kurt said as he poked his head out of the closet.

Blaine stifled a laugh. Kurt's hair was sticking up all over and he was wearing purple paisley pants with a sunflower yellow polka dotted button down.

"What are you laughing at?" Kurt narrowed his eyes at Blaine, who pointed at Kurt's outfit. "Oh my God, why did I even put this on? We can't do this tonight, I'm not ready for it, and I'm going to embarrass myself! Look at this outfit! Would a sane Kurt put this together?"

Blaine crossed to him and pulled him in close. "They're going to love you," he cooed, "you're amazing, and even if they don't, I love you."

Blaine kissed Kurt gently, "Now model for me! I'll make sure you don't wear anything too hideous…now let's get you out of those pants."

"You are so lucky my dad wasn't up here to hear that," Kurt laughed, pulling away from Blaine, "just sit on the bed over there, and I will dazzle you with my style brilliance!"

"You always dazzle me," Blaine said, making his way to Kurt's bed, "but that outfit is seriously hurting my eyes!"

"Bitch," Kurt sassed back, "I wouldn't look like this if someone had had the foresight to tell me about dinner earlier!"

"Just go get dressed, and try not to wear two different patterns this time, okay?"

"Says the man who thinks that khaki shorts go with everything…"

"Hey now," Blaine responded, mock offended, "that's low!"

Kurt stuck his tongue out and walked into his closet, shutting the door.

"You could've at least left the door open, then at least I would have had entertainment," Blaine muttered under his breath.

"Heard that," Kurt called from the closet, "I'm almost done-I think you'll like this one!"

"Does it involve skinny jeans? Because then I'm sure I'll really like it."

Kurt opened the closet door and stepped out. "Thought skinny jeans might be a bad choice," he mumbled, "since your parents would probably take one look at me and think stereotype."

Kurt was wearing khakis, a green polo shirt, and brown loafers, which just looked wrong in Blaine's mind. He gaped at him for a second, then stood up.

"Oh you!" Blaine stomped over to Kurt's closet. "I'm dressing you tonight. You'll look fabulous, and when they ask, tell them that I dressed you….well, don't tell them that exactly, they'll ask funny questions, but tell them that I picked it out. Now sit on the bed! I don't care if you scream stereotype, I just want you to yell 'I AM KURT HEAR ME ROAR' from the damn rooftops."

"You, Blaine Anderson, should be a motivational speaker," Kurt went over and sat on his bed, crossing his legs, "now hit me with your best shot!"

"Hmmm," Blaine murmured as he perused Kurt's closet, "I've got it!"

Blaine pulled out a red and blue checked short sleeved button-down, suspenders, a black bowtie, and dark blue skinny jeans.

"Are you sure?" Kurt hesitantly asked, "I don't want your parents to think I'm too flaming…"

Blaine strode over to the bed and took Kurt's hands, pulling him up, "Hey," Blaine said softly, pulling him into an embrace, "I love who you are. You're unique in your own little Kurt Hummel sort of way, and if they can't accept that, it's their loss."

Kurt's eyes were shining with tears, "Thanks, I just worry because of stuff at McKinley, I know that half of the stuff happens because of how I dress." Blaine pressed small kisses to his neck as Kurt continued, "I just want to make a good impression, you know?"

"You'll be amazing," Blaine whispered into his ear, "because you're smart, amazing, and damn sexy, if I do say so myself."

"Okay," Kurt said, brightening, "now let me get dressed! And I have to redo my hair! I only have 45 minutes left-you need to leave, you're the biggest distraction!"

At that moment, Blaine pulled Kurt into a heated kiss. "See? You really are the biggest distraction!" Kurt murmured against his lips. "Now go watch TV or something, I need to look perfect!"

"Fine, fine," Blaine said, releasing Kurt from his embrace, "I'll check if Finn's here, maybe he'll want to play Madden."

"Cool, cool," Kurt mumbled absentmindedly, shoving Blaine out the door, "now go!"

Kurt slammed the door behind him and Blaine laughed, walking down the hall to Finn's room. Finn was inside, playing what looked like an intense game of Halo.

"Can I join you?"

"Yeah, dude, here's a controller," said Finn, absentmindedly tossing a controller to Blaine, "do you wanna play Madden instead?"

"Yeah," Blaine replied, "I'm a lot better at it."

"No prob-you put it in though, I refuse to move from this spot!"

Blaine sighed and put the game in, but only got to play for about twenty minutes because Kurt had miraculously done his hair in under an hour.

"Come on," Kurt said, shifting nervously, "we should get going. Your parents will be expecting us."

The entire ride to Blaine's house, Kurt held his hand tightly.

"What if they don't like me? What if they tell you to break up with me? What if they don't like what my family-"

"Kurt," Blaine interrupted, "I've told you, I don't give a damn what they think, and you shouldn't either! Just calm down a little, okay?"

"This is so nerve wracking," Kurt muttered, "was it this bad when you met my dad? Because if it was, I'm sorry."

Blaine laughed a little bit, "My dad doesn't have a gun collection like Papa Hummel, so-"

"My dad doesn't have a gun collection," Kurt giggled, "he has ONE hunting rifle that he doesn't even use because I cried every time he went-the whole shooting Bambi thing, you know."

Blaine sighed, "Well that's a relief. But the whole Bambi thing? What is that?"

"Don't judge," Kurt laughed, "but I don't eat anything that has a Disney movie made about it. My options are really starting to dwindle!"

They laughed together for a while at that, but the atmosphere got tense again when they approached Westerville. Blaine felt Kurt's hand tighten against his again.

"It will be fine," Blaine reassured him, while rubbing circles on Kurt's hand with his thumb, "and if it isn't, we just leave and go back to your house."

Kurt whimpered a little, but then brought Blaine's hand up to his mouth and kissed it. "You really are spectacular, Mr. Anderson. And thanks for providing a way out."

"I doubt we'll need it," said Blaine, more to reassure himself though, "but it's there."

They pulled up to the gate of Blaine's house. Blaine typed a code on the keypad next to it, and the gate swung open. They drove up the long driveway to the top of the circle, where Blaine finally parked. Kurt grasped his hand tightly. Blaine looked over at him reassuringly.

"Hey," Blaine whispered, leaning over the center console to kiss Kurt's cheek, "you'll be amazing. And fabulous. And gorgeous, as always."

"What if they think that I'm not good enough for you," Kurt mumbled.

"Well, considering you don't have breasts and can't bear children," Blaine laughed coldly, "count on it."

Kurt smiled at him, and Blaine kissed him gently before getting out of the car. He crossed to Kurt's door and opened it for him. Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand right away.

"Courage," Blaine murmured as they walked up to the door.

Kurt squeezed his hand tightly as they rang the bell. A few moments passed, and the door was answered by Blaine's dad.

"Hello boys," he said, looking disapprovingly at their joined hands, "won't you come in?"

Kurt had seen the look, so he removed his hand from Blaine's, then strode up to Mr. Anderson, hand held out to shake his, "Hello sir, I'm Kurt Hummel."

Mr. Anderson looked at his hand like it was disgusting, then said coolly, "Yes, we know. Blaine simply can't say enough about you. I'm Mr. Anderson, but I suppose you've figured that out."

All of the sudden a short, vaguely Asian looking woman joined them. "Oh hello Kyle!" She cried, pulling Kurt into an awkward hug, "I'm Mrs. Anderson! We've heard so much about you from Blaine here!"

"His name is Kurt, mom," Blaine corrected, rolling his eyes, "and I think you're making him uncomfortable."

She let go of him and looked him up and down. "He looks more like a Kyle to me," she replied, "but dinner's ready! Let's go eat-our chef has prepared the most magnificent meal."

Mrs. Anderson grabbed Kurt's hand and pulled him in the direction of the dining room. Kurt looked helplessly back at Blaine, who was glaring at his father. His father bent down and whispered something in his ear, but Kurt couldn't see his reaction due to the fact that Mrs. Anderson had just led him into the dining room.

"Well, here we are!" Kurt gasped. The dining room was gigantic, probably the size of two of Kurt's living rooms. "Now sit! I'm sure Blainey and his dad will be here in a second!" Mrs. Anderson flitted out of the room, only to return a minute later with Blaine, who was wearing a scowl, and his father who looked equally displeased.

"Do you need help getting things on the table?" Kurt squeaked, "Because I can help, really it would be fine."

"Sure, Kurt," said Blaine, still glaring at his father, "we'll be right back."

As soon as they got into the kitchen, Blaine pushed Kurt up against the wall and started kissing him hard.

"So sorry," he gasped between kisses, "shouldn't have brought you here."

Kurt stopped Blaine and held him close, their foreheads pressed together. "Hey," he said, "I agreed to come, remember? And they're not terrible…just different. Like my dad."

"Your dad is awesome," Blaine replied, "he would never call you a fag. He loves you for who you are."

"Is that what happened?"

Blaine nodded and buried his head into Kurt's shoulder, "He called both of us that. Thinks I'm going through a phase still."

"I would say it's a pretty convincing phase," Kurt whispered, "considering the shower incident. If you're not gay, you're putting in one hell of an effort."

Blaine pulled away and started to laugh. "Maybe we should tell him that, clear stuff up for him," Blaine joked, "hey dad, by the way, I give a killer blow job. So does my boyfriend, in fact we've exchanged those in a bathroom in this house."

Kurt looked at Blaine, horrified. "Oh my God, no! Please, please-"

"I was kidding! Do you actually think I'd tell him that?"

"You seemed serious!"

"Yes, that seems like acceptable dinner conversation-'Yes father, Kurt is from Lima, his father owns a tire shop, and we have had oral sex in a shower. Multiple times.'"

"Shhh," Kurt hissed at Blaine, blushing wildly, "they'll hear you!"

Blaine laughed, "Don't you want to see them squirm if they did?"

"No! I don't want to be accused of defiling your virtue!"

"Defiling my virtue?" Blaine snorted, "I think I did that first."

"Shut up! I will climb out that window if you don't stop!"

"Boys," called a voice from the dining room, "could you please bring the food out? We've been waiting ten minutes now."

"We should probably get the food out," Blaine said, looking at Kurt, who was still bright pink, "before they think you're defiling my virtue."

"Shut up and grab those plates," Kurt replied, "they'll be plenty of time to defile your virtue later."

Dinner was going fairly well, except for the fact it was eaten in complete silence. Kurt kept looking up at Blaine, who apparently was very interested in his spaghetti. Then out of nowhere came a question.

"So," Mrs. Anderson began, "are you boys sexually active?"

Blaine, spat the water he had just drank all over the table. Kurt, who had been eating his pasta in piece, starting coughing violently. Mr. Anderson stood up and was slapping Kurt on the back, trying to help, but it wasn't working, so Blaine ran over, shoved his dad out of the way, and started giving Kurt the Heimlich. Kurt finally stopped choking as he spit half-eaten spaghetti onto his plate. All three men glared at Mrs. Anderson.

"What? I was curious," she replied, smiling, "and I'll take that as a yes."

"No, no," Kurt and Blaine said in unison.

"Deborah," Mr. Anderson growled, "this is not appropriate dinner conversation!"

"Yeah mom, can we please not talk about this at the dinner table?"

"I see this as a good a time as any," she retorted, "I just want to make sure you're being safe. We wouldn't want you catching anything."

"Deborah, please," said Mr. Anderson, massaging his temples, "you'll just encourage him."

"Dad, I seriously doubt that I'm going to get more gay," Blaine replied, "so I don't think it's encouraging anything. And mom, can we please not have this discussion? Mr. Hummel has already tried to give us this talk."

"Blaine, you're just confused," growled Mr. Anderson, "you'll find a nice girl, then you'll be over this. Kurt's just a phase."

"Oh, I doubt that very seriously," Blaine coldly laughed at his dad, "because I really love to su-"

"Blaine, wow, look at the time," Kurt interrupted breathlessly, "you should really be getting me home!"

"Am I making you uncomfortable dear?" Mrs. Anderson looked at Kurt, concerned, "Because I didn't mean to, I just want to make sure you're protecting yourselves. I wouldn't want my little Blainey to get hurt. His father has connections...if you know what I mean."

"Well, we really don't need to worry about that," Kurt said, his voice jumping an octave, "and really, we should be leaving, I mean it's an hour or so back to my house, and I wouldn't want Blaine to get back too late, and you'd have to use those connections, and that would be-"

"Nonsense, Kurt," Blaine said, putting his hand on Kurt's shoulder, "we haven't even had dessert yet!"

Everyone took their spots back at their places. Blaine started to play footsy with Kurt under the table, making Kurt jump and hit his knees.

"Holy shit!" He cried out as his knees struck the table.

Mr. and Mrs. Anderson looked at him, mouths open. Blaine started to snigger, and Kurt shot him a look meant to shut him up, but it only made Blaine laugh harder.

"My goodness, do you use that mouth to kiss your mother?" Mrs. Anderson asked, clutching at her nonexistent pearls.

Blaine immediately stopped laughing and looked at Kurt, who was taking the whole thing gracefully.

"Actually, no, Mrs. Anderson," he replied, "seeing as she died when I was eight, I don't really have to worry about that."

Mr. Anderson carefully inspected him, then said "And I suppose you learned those words from your mechanic father." Mr. Anderson said mechanic like it was a dirty word.

"No, sir," Kurt replied cheerfully, but with an edge Blaine recognized, "I picked it up just fine myself. And I understand that you work on cars as well. So maybe you shouldn't throw around mechanic like a dirty word, because when you inevitably make a mistake due to your own pigheadedness, a mechanic will be there to save your ass." Kurt clasped his hands over his mouth, realizing that as much as he may dislike Mr. Anderson, that was disrespectful.

Mrs. Anderson gasped. No one ever dared talk to her husband like that. "Kurt, dear, maybe you should help Blaine clear the-"

"Out," Mr. Anderson grumbled, "out of my house."

"Dad," Blaine responded, "you did insult his father-"

"Blaine, you will take your friend home right now."

"Okay dad, I'll take my boyfriend home now," Blaine retorted.

In a surprising move, Blaine crossed to Kurt and planted a kiss right on his lips, taking care to make it last a while.

"See, dad," he said, a smile plastered on his face, "I wouldn't kiss one of my friends like that."

His dad looked horrified. He was gesturing at them, and his mom had her hand over her mouth, in disbelief about what had just happened.

"If there's nothing more you have to say to us, we'll be leaving," Blaine pulled Kurt's chair out for him, "I'll be back tomorrow. Dinner was lovely, but the company was lousy."

Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand and led him out the door as Kurt shouted, "Thanks for dinner!"

As soon as the door of the Anderson house closed behind him, Blaine started laughing hysterically.

"That was awesome," he said breathlessly, wiping tears from his eyes, "I'm sorry we couldn't stay for dessert though!"

"That was not awesome! Your dad looked like he was going to kill me!"

"Welcome to my world!"

"Is it really that horrible? At least my dad doesn't think it's a phase."

"My dad didn't threaten you with a weapon!"

"Okay, I guess you win there, but your mom did say he had connections! Is it like the mob?"

Blaine stared at Kurt for a second, still leaning against the door to his house, trying to get his breathing back to normal. Once he had himself fairly under control, he went up to Kurt, then proceeded to grab his neck and pull him in for a heated kiss.

"Do you get off on awkwardness?" Kurt pulled away from him, "I'm beginning to think that you like this situations!"

"Well, let's get back to your house where you can proceed to 'defile my virtue', and we'll see how things go when your dad finds us."

"You're going to be the death of me, Blaine Anderson," Kurt said, climbing into the car, "but I think I'm okay with it."

"We'll be a tragic love story," Blaine replied, starting his car and driving away from his house, "your dad will find us in the shower and proceed to hack us to bits and-"

"That doesn't sound like a love story!"

"I guess you're right, maybe it would be a horror/love story hybrid!"

"You are such a dork, but I love you."

"I'm glad, because I love you too. And you're pretty dorky yourself!"

"Am not!"

"Kurt, what's on page 80 of last month's Vogue?"

"Shut up. Everyone knows that."

"They do not," Blaine laughed, "just you."

"If you don't stop, they'll be no virtue defiling tonight!"

Blaine weighed his options, then replied, "You're lucky that I like having my virtue defiled."

"Oh, I know," Kurt replied, taking Blaine's hand, "I know."