Kurt Hummel realised his boyfriend was not okay within about two seconds. In those beautiful hazel eyes, almost like deep pools of molten gold, there was none of the usual sparkle-or anything at all. They looked…empty. Like a old penny that turned rusty with age, Blaine Anderson's eyes had the same dull look, wiped of their former glory. The more Kurt looked at him as he approached, the more he knew-there was definitely something wrong.

"Hey, Kurt, how are you?" The tanned guitarist smiled brightly enough-but his eyes remained unchanged. They kept flicking away from Kurt into the distance, like they were trying to get away from something.

"I'm fine, thank you…and how are you?" the countertenor asked carefully, implying in his voice he knew the answer was negative.

"Oh, just great, thank you," The over-wide smile was still there, but his fantastically handsome face did not light up. Kurt raised a perfectly-plucked eyebrow.

"Blaine, what's up?" he put to him bluntly.

"Nothing!" The expression on Blaine's face at the absurdity of such a suggestion was that bit too theatrical. "Nothing, nothing at all," the guitarist insisted, his voice a half-octave higher than usual.

"Blaine…" Kurt did not drop his gaze. "I can read you like a book,"

The curly-haired boy sighed, knowing when he was defeated. He looked at Kurt with those dull eyes. "I'd…" He paused. "I'd really rather forget about it today,"

Gently, Kurt took his hands in his. "You can tell me anything,"

"I know, baby, it's just…" Kurt felt the guitarist's hands tense. "How about we go inside?"

Go inside? This must be really serious. Worry bit at Kurt like a nest of red ants as they entered the coffee shop, which was nearly deserted, apart from a gum-chewing girl at the counter, a few couples and one woman with a baby on her lap. After a quick argument, Blaine paid for Kurt's drink and his own, and they sat down at their favourite table, mostly obscured in a corner by a large green plant. Absent-mindedly stroking the long, green leaves, Kurt realised Blaine hadn't bought his usual coffee. Hot chocolate. That was Blaine's comfort drink. Kurt knew for a fact that he only ever drank it when ill, hurt or upset.

"So what's wrong?" Kurt's voice had a nervous, urgent edge to it.

Blaine was silent for a while, taking his time stirring sugar into the steaming brown liquid. He watched the white powder dissolve into the depths of the paper cup.

"Blaine?" The countertenor's voice went up at the end, squeaking a little.

"Look, Kurt, I-"

"Hello, Porcelain,"

Kurt squealed in shock and surprise as Sue Sylvester, complete with red tracksuit and, for some reason, a lasso, seemed to materialise out of nowhere right beside them.

"Urm…good evening, Miss Sylvester," Blaine, looking glad of a distraction, greeted the coach politely.

"Anderson," she said dismissively, turning her attention back to Kurt. "I was just in town picking up some of the same perfume as Will Schuester's ex-wife with which to torment him," she drawled in her low, rather monotone way.

"Oh! How…original," Kurt always wondered why Miss Sylvester would tell her latest plans to ruin Glee Club to any member of said club with ease.

"Yes," the cheerleading coach agreed. "Anyway, Ladytrousers, I've a spot for a soprano on the Cheerios right now. I figured if I got you and Aretha Franklin back, we'd storm Nationals this year-like we should have last year…so what do you say, Fairy Princess?" It sounded like more of an order than a request. Her piercing eyes looked expectantly at the surprised Kurt.

"Urm…" He wasn't sure. But Blaine was nodding encouragingly. Of course the idea of Kurt in a cheerleading uniform was attractive to him. Kurt shook is head slightly, smiling-when a sudden idea hit him.

"I'll come back to the Cheerios-if Blaine joins,"

The look on Blaine's face was priceless. In the pure shock, his eyes lost their dullness and his mouth fell open. "What-?" He looked like a firework had just blown up in his face.

Miss Sylvester was studying him carefully. "Stand up, Starkid Glasses,"

Blaine got slowly to his feet, looking like he was facing a firing squad. Kurt winked mischievously at him.

"Hmm…Well, I could use another guy, I suppose…You're good-looking enough,"

"Thank you?" Blaine was looking more uncomfortable by the second.

"Good. You're on the squad. First practise is tomorrow after school where you will be issued with your uniform-but slack, and you're off, okay? And if you fail to show up…well, I'll leave that with you. We'll see if that brain beneath those infernal curls actually works. See ya, Porcelain," Sue turned on her trainer heel and went away. Blaine sat down, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Wow! I think I just became a cheerleader!" He looked like he wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not, but at least he wasn't all down and quiet any more.

"Well, this should be fun!" Kurt beamed. "We'll get to spend even more time together, and with two nationals championships this year…"

"Hmm…I guess it can't hurt to try," Blaine shrugged.

"And you do look good in red," Kurt added, with a smile. Blaine took a drink of the hot chocolate, looking thoughtfully at nothing in particular.

"Fairy Princess?" he suddenly snickered, raising his eyebrows.

The countertenor felt his cheeks blush pink. "That's just Miss Sylvester…"

Blaine had started to laugh, his face finally brightening up properly. Kurt was half relieved, and half annoyed. "Blaine!" he moaned.

"That sounds more like a compliment than an insult!" He reached over and took Kurt's pale hand in his across the table. "Let's face it, you are like a Disney princess,"

"What do you mean by that?" Kurt squeaked, surprised, not knowing whether to be insulted or not. Blaine's eyes shone with mischief.

"Well…you randomly sing everywhere…"

"So do you!"

"You made friends with a bird…"

"Pavarotti?"

"You're pale with rosy cheeks, and the only teenager I know who's never had a zit…You're innocent and unsuspecting,"

"Not true!" the countertenor protested-though it was.

"You like to wear amazing, unique clothes, and make clothes too…" Blaine was obviously enjoying watching Kurt squirm, grinning.

"Without the assistance of mice," Kurt had started to laugh too by this point, head in his hands.

"You have a dashingly handsome prince," Blaine pretended to preen, earning a light kick under the table from Kurt's designer boot.

"Christ, you even have a step-mother!"

"She's not evil!" Kurt's face was beetroot red as he struggled to control his laughter.

"And you're beautiful,"

That caught Kurt off-guard. Beautiful. Blaine had never-in fact no one ever had called him…beautiful.

His heart was racing, his eyes widening. He sat up a little straighter, replaying the last three words in his head. Feeling light-headed, he shyly twisted a lock of his hair around, feeling his cheeks blush pink. Blaine thought he was beautiful. Oh my Barbra…

The guitarist had that I-just-won look as he smiled at his boyfriend, squeezing his hand. "You look like you've got the Nargles now. They fly inside your head and make your brain go fuzzy," he grinned.

"Oh, Blaine, you would ruin the moment by making a Harry Potter reference," Kurt pretended to be annoyed, whilst still trying to compose himself. He knew there was a stupid smile on his blushing face.

"I'm the Mickey to your Minnie, the Tigger to your Winnie!"Blaine sang, laughing.

"Is it actually possible to have a conversation with you without bringing up Harry Potter, or anything associated with him?"

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Jealous, are we?"

Kurt was about to respond with a clever, witty comeback- then he remembered. "Hey, what was up?"

His handsome face changed dramatically, though he tried to hide it. "…It's just…you know, my parents…"

Ah.

"What did they do?" Blaine never talked about his family. Worry was biting unpleasantly at Kurt again.

The guitarist hesitated. "It's…well. I sort of had a fight with my dad just now,"

Instantly, Kurt reached over and took his other hand, gently rubbing the palm. "What about?" he asked softly. Kurt didn't have much of a clue about what fighting with your dad was like. He and Burt had always got on, any disagreement forgotten by morning. But obviously Mr Anderson was not like his father at all. Well, he'd never actually met him, but from what he gathered, he was not at all okay with Blaine being gay. In fact, from what Blaine had mentioned occasionally, he resented the idea. Kurt hated for his boyfriend to have a father like that.

"…Well, you know what he's like," Blaine made a vague gesture, obviously trying to avoid the topic. But Kurt could see he needed to spit it out.

"Tell me," he persisted.

Blaine sighed, realising he was not going to get away from this. "Well…about you, actually,"

"Me?" Kurt's eyes widened in surprise. His boyfriend was looking ashamed.

"Don't hate me,"

"What?" The countertenor was even more confused. "Blaine, what's going on?"

"I kind of never told my parents about…you know, me having a boyfriend,"

Kurt's heart sank to the ground. Subconsciously, his hands were loosening their grip on Blaine's. He hadn't told his parents about him? They'd been together for months, and he'd never told them he had a boyfriend?

He'd come right home from school that wonderful, magical day after their first kiss in a daze of love, and sang out excitedly and proudly to a shocked Finn: "I've got a boyfriend!" After the initial I-must-beat-him-up-henceforth brotherly notion, he'd been cool with it, happy to see Kurt above Cloud Nine after all he'd been through. He'd told Carole the minute she got home from work, both squealing in excitement and they had a long girly chat about him, which was great. He'd screamed down the phone to Mercedes, who was so excited she was at his front door within five minutes. But when he'd told his father about Blaine later that night, it had been so scary. He'd had no idea how Burt would react. But he told him, and after replicating Finn's first thoughts for a bit and possibly muttering "Where's my gun?", he'd got used to the idea. When he'd nervously bought Blaine home for the first time, they'd hit it off right away and got on like a house on fire. Carole adored him, and he was good friends with Finn too. But then Kurt's family were evidently nothing like Blaine's, in fairness. And he'd never really wanted to meet Blaine's parents-they didn't exactly sound like the nicest of people. But not even telling them at all, after all this time? Kurt felt betrayed. He felt like he was being buried, suffocated, clammy hands squeezing the breath out of his lungs. He was shocked and hurt.

"Why?" he managed to choke out. "Because you're ashamed?"

"No! No, no, no!" Blaine held onto Kurt hands. "Of course I'm not ashamed of you!"

"But we're sat behind a freaking plant so we can be a couple in public!" Kurt sprang to his feet.

"Kurt-what are you-?"

But he didn't have time to finish the sentence as Kurt leaned over the table, knocking over his latte in the process, grabbed Blaine by his black skinny tie and, in deliberate full view, kissed him full on the lips, very passionately, the full works. The feeling of Blaine's lips against his was still magic, and he felt most of the blood leave his head as he felt dizzier, but this kiss was tainted with bitterness. However, it worked. When he finally let go, Blaine looked like he'd just witnessed a planet exploding. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Looking at Kurt like he was some sort of angel that had just appeared to him, his expression was so out of it, it was almost comic.

"There! No need to be ashamed!" Kurt sat down triumphantly.

"…urrhhh…"

"Speak English, will you, sweetheart?" He sat the paper latte cup back up, thankful the lid meant none had spilt. Blaine still looked hypnotised.

"That was some kiss…" he breathed.

"Yes, but it was to make a point!"

"Woah…"

"Hello?" Kurt waved a hand in front of his face. "Earth to Blaine?"

Eventually, Blaine came to his senses. "Wow…" He stroked Kurt's face gently. "That made me remember just how incredible you are,"

"Incredible I may be, but obviously not enough to tell your parents about me!" He was still annoyed. Blaine started to protest, but Kurt cut over him: "How did they find out, then?"

"Well…that's a long story…"