"Dad, I'm gay," I said, and waited for the fallout.
It came. "Like hell you are! I didn't raise my son to be a fag!" he yelled.
"Dad –" I started, but he interrupted.
"Shut up! I won't be spoken to by a homo!" he roared, and punched me in the jaw.
"Kurt, Kurt, wake up. It's okay." I heard my dad say.
I was in my bed; my dad was sitting on it beside me, rubbing my shoulder. My hands were clenched around my bed sheets, and I had tears on my face from the nightmare.
Right, the nightmare. Of course it wasn't real. I hadn't even come out to me dad because I was afraid of his reaction. Apparently that fear had gotten into my subconscious.
"You okay, son?" my dad asked, seeing that I had come out of my nightmare.
I almost said Fine, but something stopped me.
"Not really." I paused, then continued. "There's something I have to tell you. I'm gay." I looked away from him, worried about what his reaction would be.
"Kurt, you're my son. I love you, and you being gay doesn't change that. I will always support you, and defend your right to love other guys."
"You mean that?" I asked, barely able to believe his response.
"Of course I do," he said and pulled me into a tight hug.
"What was your nightmare about?" he asked after a minute.
I thought about not telling him, but being honest had worked well so far this night. "I dreamt that I came out to you, and you didn't take it well," I admitted, rubbing my jaw without realizing it.
"Kurt, I'm so proud of you."
"For what?" I asked, confused.
"You were obviously terrified about coming out to me – you were having nightmares about it, after all – and yet you were still brave enough to be honest with me."
"I'm glad I was."
"I'm glad you were too. Get some sleep now, okay?" he said, and kissed me on the forehead.
"G'night," I said, rolling over. "I love you, dad."
"I love you too, Kurt. Always," he said, and left.
A/N: Constructive criticism is always appreciated!