A/N: This is a Klaine oneshot without really a lot of Kurt in it. If I made any grammar mistakes, please correct me, as English is not my first language. Loved it? Hated it? Please do tell me :D
Blaine knocked on the door, his heart beating much, much faster then normal. It was a cold night, and for a second, he hoped that no one will answer the door, and he could just go home – but then he reminded himself why he is there. And the thought made his lips go up in a little smile.
He had to do it himself. He knew that. Kurt asked if he wanted him to come, a hundred times. Each time he was more tempted to say yes. But he knew he had to do it alone. Just him.
Strong, loud steps came from the inside of the stuck-up, suburban house, that was three stories high and a large backyard. A man coughed, "Just a second!" at the door, and Blaine felt his palms getting sweatier and sweatier by the second.
The lock made a little 'click' sound as the man unlocked it, and the door opened.
"Father," said Blaine, looking down at the man.
"B-Blaine?" mumbled the man, who was in his fifties, and starched his half-bald head. He was wearing his work attire – a suite and a tie, since he was a lawyer – and the only thing that didn't seem quit fitting was a small line between his pants and shoes, that showed the bright green socks he was wearing.
There was an awkward silence that followed, and interrupted by Blaine saying, "May I come in, Father?"
"Of-of course," he said, suddenly waking up from his shock. "Yes, Please do. Margaret isn't here tonight- yoga class-"
"Yeah, I know," answered Blaine, as he entered through the doorstep, to a room he hasn't been in for years, which was so familiar, yet so different then he remembered. Everything seemed somewhat smaller – the sofa, that used to look as if it could sit 10 people comfortably, looked much, much tinier. And the fireplace, that he used to be able to hide in if he wanted to, could now hardly fit half of him. And above it – the pictures were different. No longer pictures of him and his little sister, Sophie, playing and fooling around or pictures of all four of them hugging. There were only pictures of Sophie and the family, and pictures of Sophie fooling and playing around. He wasn't part of that. On the very end of the mantel, stood a framed picture of him at his graduation from high-school, one he sent them. Kurt was also in that picture – here he was cut out. "I talked to her yesterday on the phone. I wanted to talk to you, actually."
"Well…" said Blaine's dad uncomfortably. "What did you want to talk to me about?" he gestured to the sofa and set down himself. Blaine set down too. The sofa seemed too small once again.
He turned to face his father. "I'm getting married, dad." He said.
His dad signed. "Well, I don't suppose it's to a girl, is it." He looked down at his lap.
"It's not to a girl, Father. It's to a boy. A boy I love very much. His name is Kurt. Gay marriage isn't legal in Ohio, so we'll go get married somewhere else. He is wonderful, you'll love him, I've known him for 4 years now and-"
"Why can't you be normal?" asked Blaine's dad suddenly, standing up, towering above his son. Just like when Blaine was a child, asking for a Barbie doll instead of a G. I. Joe. He asked that question then, and he asked it several times since then, like when Blaine joined the singing club and when he came out of the closet. Normal, that was what he wanted.
"I'm sorry, Dad," said Blaine, standing up too, much quieter then his father. "I am not normal. I'll never be. It's too bad you can't accept me." Blaine face was full of pain. He walked to the door, trying to hold in these tears he wanted to let out. "Mother is coming to the wedding. I would like you to come too." And with a swift move, he tore open the door and shut it behind him.
He ran to the car, and drove a few miles until he arrived at a deserted parking lot of some department store. He then let himself cry, let go of all the pain he's been holding in since-well, since forever. He never cried before about something like that. It felt good to cry, though, finally. After a few minutes, he got out of the parking lot and kept driving, arriving at his home, where Kurt quickly answered the door.
"How did it go?" he asked, and received his answer as Blaine started crying on his shoulder.
"Shh, that's okay," he mumbled in Blaine ear. "I'm here with you. He'll come around sometime."
THE END
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