A/N: this is my first ever fic. Ever. I don't know exactly how many chapters this will have, but it'll be a few more than 3 but less than 100.

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own any of the characters in this fic. Unless otherwise stated, all characters belong to Ryan Murphy. Except for Peter. And Alan. And Blaine's mother when she is introduced.

Edited: October 9th - slight error that nobody else noticed but it bugged me. I forgot the name of one of my own characters!

Blaine stared solemnly out of his bedroom window, lost in thought. How the Hell was he going to tell Kurt? His eyes wandered from the view of the lawn over to where his guitar lay on his bed. No. Singing to Kurt would be stupid. Besides, he couldn't think of a single song that summed up everything that was going on in his head. It would be better than nothing, but not by much.

He flopped down onto his bed, reading the card yet again;

"Dear Blaine,
Happy birthday.
Love, Dad (Alan)"

Blaine flicked the card away, staring at the ceiling, waves of hurt and confusion rolling off him. It wasn't the fact that he was home alone on his birthday, he understood his parents having to work extra shifts at work to pay for Dalton. It was the way the card was signed.

How could someone sign a card "love, dad" if they were never around. Scratch that, if they had never been there in the first place. A "dad" was someone who was there on your first day of school, someone who'd been around and never left. His hurt and confusion merged into anger and he slammed his fist into his mattress. Every birthday and Christmas was the same – this ridiculous little trigger would set him off and he would be fuming for hours. Things had been okay every now and then when his father would forget his birthday, but they'd get worse when Alan rang and would try to apologise. Blaine would smile through his teeth, politely informing him of all that had been happening, never daring to ask the one question that was always on his mind.

The door slammed downstairs and Blaine jumped, his heart racing. He was so easily frightened. David always said he found it endearing. Much like that time Kurt had been trying to spy on the Warblers. Kurt. Blaine sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Blaine?" a voice yelled up the stairs.

Blaine groaned; his sanctuary had been ruined. He didn't mind too much, the company would be nice, he was just afraid of lashing out.

"Hey Peter," Blaine smiled as he jogged down the stairs towards the man who he'd seen as his father since he was four. It felt weird to call him "dad" – Blaine had kinda stuffed that up when his mom and Peter had been dating nearly a month and Blaine had hugged him, looking up at the man with his big hazel eyes and asked with a gap-toothed smile "So can I call you daddy now?" Apparently it had freaked Peter out to no end, and Megan, his mother, had to explain to him that Blaine was just...well...Blaine; someone who only saw the best in people, and in Peter, he had found a dad. Peter had nodded weakly; but ever since he'd just been Peter, not dad.

He grimaced whenever his mom told that story in public; sure he had been a cute kid but she did it more to embarrass him. Kurt thought Blaine's relationship with his parents was adorable. There was just one issue.

"So how're things with Kurt at the moment?" Peter enquired, breaking Blaine's angsty trail of thought, his eyes scanning the fridge shelves and landing on a tub of passionfruit yoghurt.

Blaine sighed, clasping his hands in front of him, picking at the callouses on his fingers.

"Well, they're gonna get interesting..." Blaine began, looking over at Peter whose mouth was wrapped around a spoon.

"Oh?"

"I haven't exactly told him about Alan." Blaine sighed, fidgeting now with the buttons on his blazer.

Peter frowned, not understanding what the big deal was "Blaine, I've never seen you this down about it. Is this the only thing that's been going on?"

"Alan wants me to visit him in California."

Peter's eyes went wide and Blaine grimaced. He'd been expecting this reaction, and it was part of the reason he was still working out how to tell his mom.

"He sent me a birthday card, and there was a letter too. I read it before I saw it was addressed to Mom. He's going to pay for airfares, he just 'wants to see me'."

Peter nodded, passing the tub of yoghurt to Blaine along with a fresh spoon.

"So how are you going to tell your mother?"

Blaine groaned and slid down to rest against the kitchen cupboards, thudding his head against them harder than he had intended. It resounded with a loud crack. Tears sprung to Blaine's eyes.

"You okay buddy?" Peter knelt down, resting his hand lightly on Blaine's shoulder.

Blaine grimaced and nodded gingerly, cradling the back of his head. Peter was used to Blaine's mood swings around his birthday; he had had paternal problems growing up too. There was no doubt in Peter's mind that Blaine had it more difficult though - in that respect as well as others; not being able to walk down a street hand in hand with the person he liked without people sneering at him and making obscene gestures. Not to mention how confusing it must have been growing up.

"I don- I don't know" Blaine admitted, looking up at Peter helplessly.

The older man stared back at him, confused.

"You asked me how I'm going to tell Mom? I have absolutely no clue. She's going to hate the idea." Blaine exhaled, his eyes searching around the kitchen for anything to distract him from the stars that were still reverberating around inside his skull.

Peter nodded sympathetically and stood up, extending a hand to Blaine. He accepted, leaning back against the countertop next to Peter as they simultaneously brushed their hair out of their eyes; Blaine's struggling to escape the gel. He smiled warmly, it was moments like those that made him realise how similar he and Peter were – genetics didn't matter at all.

Peter picked up the yoghurt and popped it back in the fridge, exhaling sharply as he did so. Birthday cake. Shit. He turned around, smiling brightly at the younger man, whose eyes were focussed somewhere between the kitchen wall and the next dimension.

Peter took a big breath, the disturbance rousing Blaine from his daydream, and began to sing Happy Birthday in a way that could only be described as dramatic; hand gestures and all. Blaine groaned, a grin splitting his face as Peter started doing a ridiculous beat box mash up of Happy Birthday with Teenage Dream that Blaine had never thought would be possible.

He smiled and hugged Peter. As far as dads went, Blaine was pretty sure Peter was the world's best.

Peter ended the song, completely out of breath. He ruffled Blaine's hair playfully, the gelled strands sticking up like bent black toothpicks. Blaine shied away "dammit! That took like ten minutes to gel down this morning!"

"Why do you even do it? I'm sure Kurt would love to see you...free the curls" Peter grinned, winking, and ruffled his hair again.

Blaine mumbled something about fixing his hair before dinner that night and raced out of the kitchen.

Um, yeah, review if you want :)