A/N: Wow, I was completely blown away by the response to the first chapter! Thank you all so much for your kind words! I tried to be as quick as possible with this chapter, but I didn't want to put something up I wasn't proud of, plus I was really busy! Anyway, hope you like.

Disclaimer: Do I look like Ryan Murphy?


Blaine fidgeted nervously against the leather of his car seat, trying to get the best view of his entire head in the rear view mirror. Following their coffee shop conversation where Kurt had revealed his fondness for Blaine's curls, he had consciously reduced the amount of hair gel he used in the past few days, and was now having serious qualms about this decision. He could deal with the gentle teasing at school and the slightly stunned look on his teacher's faces, as Kurt's reaction has most definitely been worth it, but sitting in the Hummel-Hudson driveway, he missed the comfort of the stiff, helmet of hair. He was certain that if he'd been more familiar with his do, he would have actually gone to knock on the door when he'd actually pulled in to their home, rather than faffing about in the car, wasting time, as he'd been doing for the past five minutes. He gave one last fruitless tug at a stray curl, sighed resignedly and slid out of the car. As he walked up to the front door, he adjusted and smoothed down his shirt and questioned his choice of outfit for about the fiftieth time in the past two hours. It normally took him all of ten minutes to get ready, but as the current state of his bedroom floor would attest, today was an entirely different story. After casting out the entire contents of his wardrobe, Blaine had finally settled on a pair of slim fit grey jeans and a simple black button up shirt. He knew that it was stupid to be this nervous – he'd met Kurt's family before – but that didn't stop his palms from sweating furiously as he rang the doorbell. This was the first time he'd met them as Kurt's boyfriend (damn, still felt good saying that) and considering the last conversation he'd had with Burt Hummel had been about encouraging his son to be sexually aware, he felt that at least part of his fear (namely the bit about Burt castrating him) was justified.

"Blaine, honey," Carole greeted him with a warm smile as she opened the door, "Come on in."

"Thanks Mrs Hummel," he responded weakly, stepping into the entrance hall, which was filled with family shots. His eyes briefly fell on upon a picture of a six year old Kurt with his mother, and he found himself wondering how this woman with the same beautiful glasz eyes he loved so much would have reacted to him.

"Please, call me Carole dear," she laughed, ushering him through into the living room, "Kurt's still getting ready, but he'll be down soon."

"I wouldn't count on that," Finn snorted from his spot on the couch, "He spends more time getting ready than most of the girls I know."

"At least he doesn't look like he's just rolled out of a haystack half the time," Carole defended her stepson. With a pointed look at Burt, which did not escape Blaine's notice, and assurances that it would shortly be time for dinner, she excused herself, leaving the room to settle into an awkward hush.

"So…" Burt starts slowly, almost drawling, "You doing okay, Blaine"

"Yes sir, very well. And yourself?"

"I'm good."

"Glad to hear it," Blaine smiled automatically, the epitome of good manners. His grandmother would be proud of him.

Burt made an indistinguishable noise – either a grunt or a chuckle or a mixture of the two, Blaine wasn't entirely sure. "Shove over Finn," he commanded, gesturing for Blaine to sit down. He did so gratefully, as he felt as if his legs would give out from nerves pretty soon, but leapt up again almost immediately as Kurt swanned in to the room.

Blaine gulped loudly as he took in his boyfriend's appearance – hardly an appropriate reaction considering their current company but, damn, that outfit…

He was wearing a simple, if rather tight, white V-neck tee with a silver waistcoat over the top, which emphasised the grey in his huge shining eyes. It was his electric blue trousers, however, that had rendered Blaine speechless – how had he even managed to get into those, let alone walk down the stairs? They looked practically sprayed on.

"Hey you," Kurt smirked flirtatiously, clearly aware of the effect he was having.

"Hey," Blaine managed to croak, the melted puddle of goo that had been his brain not really capable of forming sentences yet.

With a couple of quick, long strides (again, Blaine questioned Kurt's ability to move in those pants), the distance between them was closed, and Blaine found himself wrapped in his boyfriend's arms and a chaste kiss being pressed to his ear. "I thoroughly approve of your jeans, by the way," Kurt nodded as they broke apart far too soon for Blaine's liking, "Very flattering."

"Yeah, you too," Blaine forced out, "You look… just … wow." He shook his head in disbelief.

Finn coughed loudly from behind them, breaking Blaine out of his admiring reverie.

"C'mon," Kurt took Blaine's hand casually with an eye-roll in his step brother's direction. "Let's go upstairs."

"Actually, boys, would you mind setting the table?" Burt interjected hurriedly, the question sounding more like a demand.

"Daaaaad…."

"Kurt. Go and set the table."

"Yeah, Kurt, go and set the table," Finn chimed in teasingly.

Kurt looked about ready to take a chunk out of both of them, but Blaine stepped in quickly – bloodshed within the first few minutes was definitely not what his idea of a good impression – and gave Kurt's hand a subtle, comforting squeeze. "Sure thing, Mr Hummel."

Ignoring his son's sigh, Burt nodded, a slight smile playing around his lips, and settled back into his seat.

"Fine then," Kurt stomped out of the lounge, practically dragging Blaine behind him, through to the dining room, where he unceremoniously flung open the cutlery draw and began to thrust various crockery into Blaine's hands. "Urgh," he exclaimed angrily as he nearly impaled his boyfriend on a fork, "It's not even my turn to set the table!"

"You sound like a toddler, babe," Blaine laughed, possibly rather unwisely considering the knife Kurt was currently brandishing.

"He only made us do this because he thought you were going to jump me."

"Well, you do look rather marvellous in those trousers," Blaine dropped his volume to ensure no one else (specifically any gun wielding fathers) would overhear his appreciation, and winked.

Kurt rolled his eyes again, chuckling. "Still… I wish he'd trust me."

"I think it's me he doesn't trust, not you," Blaine pointed out as he moved around the table, positioning the knives and forks.

"He barely knows you!" Kurt protested.

"Kurt, baby," Blaine laughed kindly, "That's exactly the point! He doesn't know me from Adam – he doesn't look at me and see Blaine Anderson, good at English, failing Physics, lead Warbler, Star Wars fan boy, Family Guy nut and scared of snakes. He sees Blaine Anderson, douchebag, who is going to hurt his son, try and drag him off into a world of hot, gay sex, demand all his time and put the final nail in the coffin of the cute baby boy who he once held. Of course he doesn't trust me."

"But that's not fair on you."

"It is all just a part of teenage relationships – stupid fights over really dumb things, doodling each other's names on our notebooks, saying we're going to study and ending up making out and being terrified out of my wits by your parents."

"You don't know my Dad. He'll end up taking it to extremes."

"So what! If falling in love with you means having to act like I don't have hormones in front of your father, and running away from your giant of a step brother then so what! Bring it on – it's worth it! You are so worth it! There isn't a psycho family in the world that could keep me away from you… Not that I'm calling your family psycho." He added hastily.

"Glad to hear that," Carole said, appearing behind them, and scaring Blaine out of his wits, "Don't worry, it's only me. Thanks for doing the table boys, you finish up and I'll go grab the others."

Blaine's heart had not yet returned to its normal pace when Kurt reached across the table and lightly clasped his hand without a word.

"I'm so hungry I could eat a T-rex!" Finn exclaimed, striding into the room.

"It would probably eat you first, honey."

Kurt gave Blaine's hand a reassuring squeeze. It could only go downhill from here.


Blaine couldn't believe he had made it halfway through the meal without having a heart attack yet. Conversation had been minimal as they were all too busy appreciating their food to talk, but it was the little things which had given him palpitations. For example, he knew Kurt was not religious – but why had he not thought to ask about the rest of the family before coming over? What if they had gone to say grace and he'd been left there looking like an ungrateful, pagan idiot of some form? Luckily, they hadn't, but even asking Burt to pass the salt had been a stressful enough experience – he didn't want to be insensitive as he knew that Burt had to monitor his blood pressure carefully, but on the other hand, he really did love salt. Little dilemmas as these had kept him on edge all night, until he actually found himself grateful when the topic of conversation moved around to him. At least he would actually know the answers to all of these

"So, Kurt tells us that you're a Buckeyes fan," Burt questioned in between mouthfuls.

"Yes sir. Big, big fan," Blaine smiled, relieved that he knew that they had this is common.

"You ever play?"

"No sir. Too small, I was told."

"Didn't stop, Kurt," Finn pointed out, yet again speaking with his mouthful.

Blaine turned to his boyfriend with wide eyes. "You played football? Why didn't I know this?"

"Barely," Kurt gulped, "It was one game as the kicker. Not exactly significant."

"Not exactly significant?" Burt laughed disbelievingly, "That was the only game the Titans won that season! Because of your goal, son!"

"You won them the match?"

"And he taught the entire team the Single Ladies dance!"

"Finn, you can shut up now."

"Oh please say there are videos!"

"I think so…"

"Well I definitely got a picture of him in his uniform," Burt beamed proudly; "He did so good."

"He was awesome."

"Guys, you can shut up embarrassing me now."

"Kurt, are you blushing?" Blaine teased.

"Aww, he is!"

"I hate you all," Kurt muttered under his breath, but he was smiling too. Blaine grinned – perhaps this meal wasn't going to be the death of him after all.

"So Blaine," Burt resumed after they had all stopped cracking jokes at the football teams expense, "When did you come out?"

Kurt dropped his fork with a clatter, "Dad!" He hissed, "You can't just ask that!"

"Why?" Burt responded as he reached over to thud Finn (who had begun to choke and splutter wildly) on the back, "I'm curious."

"Still!" Kurt exclaimed angrily, "It's personal!"

"So I'm not allowed to talk about personal things with your… friends?" Blaine's cheeks turned slightly pink at the memory of their conversation in the garage a few weeks earlier.

"Not like that!"

Burt looked to Carole for some back up, but she merely threw her hands in the air and went to get Finn a glass of water.

"I'm just taking an interest, son."

"Well…"

"Kurt," Blaine interrupted before his boyfriend could start ranting at his father, "I don't mind."

"But…."

"Seriously, it's fine." Burt short Kurt a satisfied sort of told-you-so look, before settling back into his seat to listen to Blaine. "I was thirteen when I came out," he started, "I'd always known I liked guys, but I didn't realise that it was an issue until around then, when everyone started pairing up for the first time. So I asked the boy I liked out on a date…"

"And…"

Carole, who had re-joined them by this point, sighed at her husband's insensitivity but did not interrupt – they were all curious as to where this story would go.

"And he very politely declined. We were still friends, he didn't treat me any differently and everything was fine for the next few months, until I made some passing reference to it and a lot of our other friends kind of freaked. I went home and told my mom that some kids had been calling me names all day because I'd asked him out, and that's when I formally came out – I hadn't even realised it was a necessary to clarify until then. Homosexuality wasn't really a topic in our house," he explained.

The Hummel-Hudsons reflected on this for a few moments – even though most people had already assumed that he was gay, when Kurt came out, everyone had at least grasped the importance of the situation. Now Kurt wasn't sure who had had it easier – him or Blaine. Did it even matter?

"So, you must have had a fair few boyfriends then?" Burt asked bluntly, earning him warning glances from Carole and Kurt and causing Finn to nearly choke again. "Being out for so long."

Blaine gave a little laugh, "Uh, no… Kurt is my first real relationship."

"Ah…" Burt looked slightly stunned as he processed this.

"Yup," he nudged Kurt's foot under the table and smiled.

"Wait, what do you mean real relationship?"

Kurt groaned. It was going to be an interesting night.


Well, one thing that Blaine could happily take from what had otherwise been a terrifying dining experience was that at least Carole liked him. Once they had finished dessert (Kurt had made the most magnificent low-calorie chocolate mousse) she had insisted that Burt and Finn cleared up, and then proceeded to pretty much shove him and Kurt upstairs. This was where Blaine now found himself, being dragged along hurriedly, towards Kurt's bedroom.

Kurt threw open the door and tugged his boyfriend in after him like the hounds of Hades were at their heels. Blaine hadn't quite understood the need for the urgency – he highly doubted Burt would be able to beat them up here and drag them back down, particularly as Carole had had a rather wicked glint in her eyes – and was about to question it when he found himself pinned up against the wall with his arms above his head, and Kurt's lips very firmly on his own.

Even though he'd been taken by surprise, Blaine was nothing if not appreciative of the situation he now found himself in and reciprocated happily, his mouth opening eagerly at the swipe of Kurt's tongue along his lower lip. He shivered as their mouths melded – Kurt tasted like cherry chapstick (something his inner Katy Perry fanboy noted with glee) as per usual but with the rich taste of the dark chocolate too, his taste buds were in ecstasy.

"Not that I'm complaining," Blaine murmured into his boyfriends mouth as they slowed pace slightly in order to breathe, "But was there a reason for that?"

Kurt smiled, and pulled away, garnering an unashamed whimper from Blaine. "Yes there was."

"Are you going to tell me what it is?" he prompted further as Kurt took another step away from him and toward the bed.

"You did really well tonight – Dad likes you, I can tell."

Blaine raised his triangular eyebrows in disbelief . "Really?"

"Really," Kurt grinned at him coyly, "Plus, what you said before dinner…" he gave a little nibble of his now slightly swollen lips, "Well it really meant a lot to me."

"Oh yeah?" Blaine smirked back, closing the distance between them with a stride, "Well, I meant it. Every word."

"Good," Kurt threaded his fingers through Blaine's curls, "Because I'd do anything for you – you know that right?"

Blaine nodded slowly but surely. "Will you kiss me again?" he breathed, closing his broad hands around Kurt's slender waist.

"Anything." Kurt responded simply, pulling him closer and brushing his lips delicately. "Anything. Anything. Anything," he repeated again and again as he planted feather-light kisses on Blaine's mouth.

Blaine sighed happily. He could quite literally stand here and be showered in these kisses for days and not care. Well, metaphorically, he corrected himself; he would need to eat and drink and sleep and urinate after all. But for now, he was perfectly content. However, he was also more than happy when Kurt tenderly deepened the kiss, sucking on his lips for a moment before releasing them with a pop and sliding his slightly pointed tongue into Blaine's mouth. He was exploring – there was no other word for it. Running his tongue over the back of his teeth, gently feeling out every inch of his palate, taking long swipes at his lips – Kurt was certainly full of surprises. How had he learned to kiss like that? Blaine let out a groan when Kurt nipped playfully at his lip.

"Again," he muttered. Kurt obliged, causing Blaine to make another guttural sound of appreciation. Kurt couldn't help but giggle at the effect he was having. "It's not funny," Blaine protested in a whisper, his lips vibrating against Kurt's.

"Sorry." Kurt replied with renewed vigour, kissing deeper, sliding his hands down Blaine's spine until he was confident of his grip. Without breaking any body or lip contact he tugged at Blaine's hips so that they both tumbled backwards onto his bed.

"Wait, wait, wait, Kurt," Blaine reluctantly dragged himself upwards as realisation as to their change in position sank in, "What are we doing?"

"Well, we were kissing," Kurt huffed, propping himself up on his elbows, "Now we appear to be talking."

"I know that. I meant what are we doing on your bed?" Blaine detangled himself fully from his pouting boyfriend and sat back slightly, in an attempt to prevent himself from acting on temptation.

"I repeat: we were kissing and now we're talking. On my bed."

"Kurt…"

"I don't see what the big deal is!"

"We're on your bed."

"We've been on my bed before."

"Not kissing on your bed," Blaine attempted to explain his hesitance, "It takes on a slightly different meaning then."

"Well we're not kissing anymore!"

"Kurt!"

Kurt exhaled loudly. "I'm not asking you to ravish me Blaine. Just carry on kissing me. On my bed."

"But why?"

"Don't you like kissing me?"

"Of course I do!"

"Then I don't see what the problem is!"

"Why are we on your bed?"

"Because it's comfortable and because we always are standing up when we kiss and I wanted to try it lying down because then I won't have to worry about my legs giving out! Okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay!"

"Kurt?" Blaine ventured softly.

"Yes, Blaine?"

"Kiss me? On your bed."

Kurt threw his head back and laughed. "You are such a dork," he teased as he crawled back over to where Blaine was resting, "But, yes. Anything."

Blaine met Kurt halfway between this time, their lips crashing together, clumsy with passion. There was no exploration or tenderness this time - just heat and left over frustration from their misunderstanding. Kurt's heart was pounding as he was pushed backwards so that Blaine was nearly straddling him, body hanging low over Kurt's chest. Even though he'd been annoyed only 30 seconds prior, the slender countertenor was now grateful for Blaine's pause earlier – now they'd clarified their situation, he really wasn't holding back.

Kurt whined a little when Blaine's mouth suddenly moved away from his, but his protests didn't last long as Blaine's lips were soon reoccupied nipping, kissing and sucking a line down from his earlobe to his collar bone. "Blaine…" he breathed.

"Yes babe?" Blaine murmured into Kurt's neck before biting down gently at his pulse point.

"Ahhhh…"

"What was that?" Kurt could feel Blaine grinning against his skin as he continued to massages at the tender spot with his teeth and his tongue,

"That feels… so good," he emphasised hoarsely as Blaine bit down harder this time.

"Glad you approve."

Boy, did Kurt approve. Resisting the urge to melt completely, Kurt instead stroked his fingers lightly around Blaine's body so that they were now resting on his stomach. Slowly, he slid his hands downwards, looping two of his fingers through the waistband of Blaine's jeans and pulling their bodies closer together. Now it was Blaine's turn to moan at the increased friction and their mouths quickly found each other again, tongues warring for dominance. Kurt allowed Blaine to push him further down into the mattress and began to grind their hips together slightly. In between gasps, he freed his hand from in-between their hip bones, sliding his finger's up the inside of Blaine's shirt instead, tracing the defined stomach muscles, appreciating the warmth of his smooth skin and the contrast with the rough feeling of the hair that covered it.

Blaine shivered at Kurt's cool touch as he sucked gently at his tongue. Thank God for Carole Hummel and her control over her husband and son.


Finn Hudson: Oh my God! My eyes! They're burning! I can't unsee that!

(Noah 'Puck' Puckerman likes this)

Noah 'Puck' Puckerman: What was it, dude? Was it that awesome squirrel thing I linked you to?

Finn Hudson: Worse.

Noah 'Puck' Puckerman: Worse than the squirrel thing? Nothing's worse than the squirrel thing!

Artie Abrams: Preach.

Finn Hudson: Kurt and Blaine. Making out. On his bed. Someone get me some bleach or something!

Noah 'Puck' Puckerman: Well shit.

Santana Lopez: Get some Hummel.

Finn Hudson: No, no, no, no, no, no! Don't encourage it Santana!

Nick Lynch: I feel your pain, Finn. It made me want to gouge my own eyes out when I first saw it full on.

Kurt Hummel: It's called knocking Finn. And Nick for that matter – you both bought it on yourself.

(Blaine Anderson likes this)

Kurt Hummel: And since when are you two Facebook friends?

Nick Lynch: We spoke in the line for the men's room at Regionals for like 2 minutes. That constitutes a Facebook friendship.

Artie Abrams: Preach.

Nick Lynch is now friends with Artie Abrams, Noah 'Puck' Puckerman and Santana Lopez

(Finn Hudson likes this)


A/N: I actually wrote the dinner section whilst slightly tipsy, so that required a bit of editing! Anyway, um, hope you liked? Please review or talk to me on tumblr if you have any questions (I will be posting a few sneak previews) .com/. Next chapter will be a bit of Warbler action.