A/N: Kicked Out is back! Sorry I deleted it before, I just didn't want to have irregular updates. Story starts in between Night of Neglect and Born This Way, because both boys are still at Dalton but are together when it starts.

Will be updated once a week (Today, November 10th; next Thursday, Nov. 17th; and the Thursday after that, the 24th) and is a three-shot. I am in Canada, Eastern time.

Disclaimer: Glee is not mine, sadly.

Chapter 1: Kicked Out

As Blaine sat down for dinner with his family, he started getting nervous. He'd promised himself he'd come out. His sister he wasn't worried about,—a majority of her friends at Rockland Prep were lesbians—it was his father. Jonathan Anderson was an extremely homophobic man, and having a gay son wasn't going to change that.

"Blaine, why are you so fidgety?" Marissa asked, looking at her older brother's left hand—it was twirling a toothpick in circles rhythmically—after they had finished eating.

As an answer, Blaine shook his head and put his head in his hand—nearly poking his eye with the toothpick. The dark-haired boy stood up suddenly and looked around the small table.

The movement attracted his parents' attention. They looked up from their conversation (from what he could pick up, about their stock market investments), making Blaine even more nervous.

"Uh, I have a—an announcement to, uh, make," Blaine stuttered. He cleared his throat, regretting the extra dessert he'd eaten. He felt like he was going to throw up all over the table.

"I, er, found someone... special, recently." He figured if he worded it that way, it might not have to pour out all at once.

"Oh, congratulations, Blaine," his mother applauded. "What's her name?"

"That's the thing," he said, looking down as he spoke. "I'm in love with someone at my school. I'm gay."

Blaine looked at his father, whose look changed from shock to, disappointment, to anger.

"Out," his father said sternly. "Now."

"What?" Blaine hissed slightly. "What did I do? I didn't choose this. I've been this way ever since I was born, dad. What would you have done if I had been born with cerebral palsy? Put me up for adoption because I was different?" he ranted. His father waved his questions off and pulled a grocery bag out from under the sink.

"Here," he said. "Take it. Whatever you can fit in here and carry with you otherwise is yours. You have five minutes, starting now."

Blaine ran upstairs and grabbed the first things he could think of—an old t-shirt, sweatpants, his wallet, and his Dalton uniform. He had his iPhone in his pocket,—dead, unfortunately—but couldn't find the charger. He came to a quick conclusion. Kurt had the same phone, so he didn't need his own for now.

He found his car keys and shoved them in his pocket, flinching when his father yelled at him from downstairs that his time was up.

The Anderson in question was waiting by the front door for his son. Blaine ran down the stairs, but was stopped at the door.

"Keys," Jonathan ordered, holding his hand out expectantly.

"What? That car is mine; you bought it for me for my birthday last year!"

"And now I'm reclaiming it for Marissa. You can walk to wherever you're going."

Blaine sifted through his pockets for his keys, finding a pair of loose $20 bills and a half-eaten pack of gum in the process. "Here," he growled, throwing the house key and car key at his father, keeping the rest on the ring—his dorm key from Dalton, his locker key (Dalton had weird lockers with a combo and a key), and assorted friends' dorm/house keys. He also kept the tiny lion charm Kurt had given him.

"Thank you. Now, out."

Blaine ran through the rain (how dramatic that there was a lightning storm at this time) with his bag in hand, determined to get to Kurt's house before it got too dark out.

One could only tell that the short boy was crying by his red eyes. The tears were indistinguishable because of the heavy rain, and his face was otherwise composed.

Once Blaine reached the house, he knocked on the door quietly. Finn opened the door, his mouth stuffed full of strawberry Pop-Tarts.

"Blaine?" he questioned. "What're you doing here?"

"Can—can I come in?" Blaine choked.

Finn jumped back from the door and let the curly-haired boy inside, looking a little flustered. The curls in question were soaked and dripping all over the carpet, so Finn went to get a towel.

"Kurt! Come downstairs for a minute!" he yelled before putting a hand on the much shorter boy's shoulder and leaving.

"Ugh, Finn, wha...?" Kurt's question trailed off as he saw who was at the bottom of the stairs. He looked at his soaked boyfriend, and ran down the stairs without thinking. Kurt pulled Blaine into a tight hug, not caring that he was getting his designer clothes completely soaked.

Finn came back with a towel—straight from the dryer, the boy was smart when he tried—and handed it awkwardly to Blaine.

"Thanks," Blaine sniffled, pulling away from Kurt to dry himself off.

"Uh, no problem,"

"Got kicked out," Blaine explained quietly. "Needed a place to stay. This is the first place I could think of."

"You can stay in my room with me. I'm sure Carole won't mind. My dad, however, is a different story," Kurt said, realizing the fact as he said it.

A/N: This is absolutely no different than the last time I posted it. R&R, please! (Word count- 858)