Blaine whimpered, low and shaky, several seconds after the final swat. Is it over? Sometimes he thought it was over and then his father surprised him with a couple extra slaps for good measure. But after a little while he felt his father's fingers starting to pull his boxer briefs back up, and he swallowed, lifted up to wiggle back into them. Owww. The extra movement called his attention further towards the unpleasant sting lingering all across his bottom and he scowled as he tried to ignore it.

I'm fine. I'm fine. He hadn't cried and he always counted himself ahead in that circumstance. Staring at the carpet, he scolded himself. Why'd I have to lie? I'm such an idiot. And what the fuck is wrong with me talking back like that. What did I expect he would do? He felt a tap on his bottom and knew he could get up now. Ugh. Chastised, he hobbled up without raising his eyes to his father's, trying not to think of the renewed searing pain that resulted. Pulling away from his Dad, he hurriedly fixed up his jeans again, shifting uncomfortably as the fabric pressed against the still-tender skin of his bottom. It was all he could do not to rub his backside like a little boy right now.

"Blaine." came Mr. Anderson's voice, even but gentle. "Sit."

Ugh.

"Ye-es sir." Blaine's voice was quiet as he gingerly sat on the couch. Ow ow ow. His nose scrunched and he closed his eyes a second, willing himself to focus. If Blaine had been able to look his father in the eye right then he might have caught a sympathetic softening on his dad's face, but he didn't.

"Sorry I lied to you sir," Blaine offered, eyes schooled on the coffee table.

"I'm sure you are." Mr. Anderson reached over and gently lifted his son's chin. "You know better."

Heat rapidly rose through Blaine's face. "Yes sir." His eyes shifted, struggling to stay put and he bit his lip embarrassedly.

"You said you feel your mother and I compare you to your brother too much?"

Blaine shrugged.

"...Sometimes."

"Well we certainly want to be fair so that's something we can think about."

Blaine looked at his dad then away again, not knowing what to say.

"You know, I'm guessing that your mother and I don't really like spending a lot of energy nagging you about things any more than you like hearing it."

Blaine pursed his lips. Easy for you to say. "Yes Dad."

Gabriel Anderson was going to say more but then thought better of it. "It's getting late. Maybe we can discuss this further later."

The relief in Blaine's body was obvious. He just wanted out of his dad's presence right now. Tomorrow he was going to be stuck reading that stupid novel and cleaning out the garage. Some summer vacation.

"Yes sir. I- sorry again sir." Blaine stood but his Dad grabbed his hand.

"It's forgotten Blaine."

Blaine looked at his father, startled. He opened his mouth to respond, then just nodded.

"Sleep well."

"Uh, you too sir." And with that Blaine slipped away upstairs, falling asleep in minutes.

Gabriel Anderson, on the other hand had a pretty fitful sleep that night, thoughts returning again and again to his insecurities as a father and frustrations at never quite knowing what was going on in his teenager's head. He wished Rosalie wasn't already asleep. She always knew the right thing to say when he felt this way. God he loved her. That one time he'd talked to that Kurt kid's dad and found out that he'd been a single parent for awhile, he'd known for sure. There was no way he could have done this on his own. His kids would have ended up even more screwed up than they probably already were.