It can't be just a peck, Kurt knows that. For some reason, Santana is suspicious; she requested the kiss as a proof that they are together, that they have kissed hundreds of times. He can see Blaine knows that, too. But as soon as he leans in for the kiss, he feels that this is dangerous – he could easily be drawn in again and he has no desire to repeat the hickey incident, although the stirring feeling in his belly that wakes at the memory may tell him otherwise. So he vows to be careful.

But then Blaine's lower lip is between his own, and he can't resist sucking on it just a little bit, and he feels Blaine's hand on the back of his neck tighten and draw them nearer together. His own mouth opens just a little more in response, but then, with difficulty, he pulls away, and for a second, Blaine and him just stare at each other as they catch their breath. Luckily, Santana is busy putting away her pen and her part of the contract; if Kurt's face shows only a little of the mixture of breathlessness, excitement, exhilaration and doubt that he feels, there is no way she would buy this as one kiss of many. She looks up again just as they manage to break the look, and apart from the kiss, she doesn't seem to have witnessed anything.

"That was hardly the hottest makeout I've ever seen, but I guess it will have to do. Get packing, guys, I'll see you tomorrow."

Kurt and Blaine carefully do not look each other as they pack the things they won't need tonight or tomorrow back into their bags. Eventually, Kurt says,

"I guess we should go talk to my dad. I haven't seen him since the funeral, I don't even know if he knows about all this."

Blaine nods and carelessly stuffs the last polo into his bag, while Kurt watches disapprovingly. As they leave their room, Blaine nudges Kurt with his shoulder.

"So I guess I really can kiss you. Just like I said."

Kurt grins, surprised – but why make things awkward if they don't have to be?

"Yes, I guess you can."

His dad has, in fact, heard nothing but rumors about the whole inheritance thing, and is a little angry that Kurt hasn't come to him sooner. But Kurt is able to calm him down quickly, and he is really glad he and Blaine have made up their minds without consulting anyone. Burt makes objections that may be reasonable, but offer no help for their real situation, but Kurt can hardly blame him because he just doesn't know their real situation.

"You sure you know what you're doing?"

"Not—entirely, but I think we have this down. We talked about it, dad, for a long time, and we figured out what to do about the studio and Blaine's job and our apartments and everything."

"Yes, but – you'll be living together. That's a big deal, something that challenges every relationship, and you haven't been together that long. You sure you can handle that?"

"You mean we'll break up because Blaine won't put away his things properly? - Don't look at me like that, I've seen the way you stuffed that shirt into your bag, and that's no way to treat clothes!"

Burt looks at him with an I-told-you-so-expression, and then at Blaine, who watches them and tries not to laugh.

"From what I see, and what I experienced from living with you, more because you'll nag Blaine about putting away his stuff until he can't stand it anymore. But yes. It's the little things, Kurt. You fight about clothes and money and whose turn it is to put the garbage out and who forgot to get groceries and whatnot, and you forget the big picture. The reason why you're in that house together in the first place."

"Well, in our case it's because we'll be paid very handsomely to do so, but I get what you're meaning. And I do not nag."

"Mr. Hummel," Blaine says, "At home, I stay at Kurt's place all the time. We have both experienced a little of what it means to live with each other. I know it's not going to be easy, but we're good communicators. We'll compromise. We'll house-train each other."

Burt looks at them doubtfully for another minute, but then chuckles. "At least I know now why Mildred is so furious. The way she looked as she stormed into the lobby yesterday, she was ready to start a war."

Kurt's smile is a little uneasy; he doesn't exactly want to know what Aunt Mildred's 'war' is going to look like. But he is glad that his dad's doubts about the whole thing seem to have evaporated, even if they were completely misplaced. After all, they don't need to worry about breaking up when there's nothing there to break up, do they?

The conversation turns to logistics then. They move tomorrow, which leaves them very little time to prepare something now. They will take the things they had packed for this week with them, and next weekend, they plan to fly to New York to get the other things they need; until then, they will just have to do a lot of laundry. Then, Blaine will put his furniture in storage and give up his apartment. He had wanted to look for another anyway, and there is no use in keeping it empty the whole year. Kurt, on the other hand, plans to keep his. He can easily afford the rent now, he reasons, and he plans to go to New York fairly often to look after the studio, so it will be useful then. Besides, he loves his place, and there's no way he'll be so lucky again in rent and situation if he has to look for something new next year.

Burt and Carole listen to them outlining their plans and offer the occasional advice, but seem satisfied they got this. Then Burt smiles.

"At least, Columbus is much nearer then New York. We'll be able to see you more often. We'll come visit!"

Kurt smiles and hopes it looks happy, in love and everything else instead of forced like it really is. Because while he likes seeing his dad and often misses him, the promised visits do not make his job any easier. It is bad enough that Santana will live with them, but she doesn't know them. She doesn't know if he likes PDA or rather keeps everything behind closed doors, she doesn't know how much of a romantic he is. She doesn't know anything about Blaine, either (neither does he, for that matter). But his dad? No one knows him so well. They'll really have to up their game if they want to fool him for any amount of time when he isn't distracted by other things and just there to observe their relationship. And playing boyfriends under parental supervision is not something Kurt looks forward to.

When they sit at dinner, alone again and at least for the moment safe from supervision, assumptions and well-meant advice, Kurt thinks of something.

"What are you going to tell your parents? And your friends?"

Blaine stops the fork halfway to his mouth.

"I haven't even thought about that." He eats the bite of pasta and chews slowly, thinking. "I think...I'd like to tell my parents the same we told yours, if that's okay. After all, the less people know the truth, the better, right? We might have to visit them at some point, and I'll probably get some backlash for not telling them I have a boyfriend, but that's better then explaining everything, at least for me. Friends...is another matter. Those I'm close with know I'm single, I don't know how...what do you want to tell your friends?"

"I have no idea. This has gotten much bigger than I expected, obviously. Rachel knows, she's my best friend, she was involved in the planning of the whole thing. But she swore she won't tell. Everyone else...I'll have to tell Mike and Brittany that I'm away for the next year, and I guess I could just casually mention a boyfriend, that might work with them. Otherwise...oh my God, what do I tell Mercedes?...I don't know?"

"Oh, I have an idea. We could – do you have a facebook? We should just change our relationship status there, and most of what people have to say will go over there. We won't have to explain anything in person, and we have some more time to decide what to do, at least."

It's a good idea, Kurt decides. It won't really solve anything, but it'll give them time, and he hopes his relationship status is perhaps not so interesting to most people.

"So you want to go facebook official, do you, Mr. Anderson? So early in our relationship?" he teases.

Blaine laughs, then ducks his head bashfully and flutters his eyelashes in probably the most ridiculous way possible. "It would be my honor, Mr. Hummel."