"So now that my dad said yes, we have some serious work to do." Kurt said firmly. He laid back on the pillows of his bed and crossed his legs.

"What do you mean?" Flint's voice was sleepy over the phone, but amused.

"Are you free Sunday? I have so much shopping to do. I thought we could go down to that vintage shop that we've talked about and find outfits for the wedding."

"I'm free, but you don't have to get anything new Kurt. You have lots of thing that will look great."

Kurt scoffed, glancing at his closet with a frown.

"I don't have anything for a spring wedding, let alone of the right weight for the East Coast. And..."

"And?" Flint murmured, his interest still overruling the call of sleep.

"I want to make a good impression on your family. And I've never been anyone's date to a wedding."

Flint laughed quietly, a sound that made Kurt's chest swell even across the line.

"Okay, fine. I've been wanting to find a new suit vest and I could use some help from an expert."

"Perfect! I'll pick you up at 10?" Kurt chirped.

"10. Night Kurt."

"Mmmm. Night."

Just after ten on Saturday morning Blaine slid into the front seat of his car in the Dalton parking lot and slipped the key into the ignition. Devon didn't have his first race for another hour, and it only took twenty minutes to get to Everett-Vauxhall.

The engine started with a stilted chug and Blaine's brow furrowed as an orange light popped up on the dash.

"Damn it."

"I'm just here to borrow the sedan! Mine's got the check engine light on." Blaine shouted as he slipped in the front door of his house and headed to the kitchen for the keys.

He tried to slip out quickly, but the footfalls from his dad's study stopped him.

"Blaine?"

"Kitchen." Blaine replied shortly, resigning himself to at least grabbing something to eat if he was going to get corralled into a conversation. When he shut the fridge door he saw his father standing in the doorway, blocking his exit towards the garage.

"Didn't expect you home this weekend."

Blaine focused on peeling a sticker off his apple and shrugged.

"Something came up. I needed the car."

"What came up?" His father's tone was almost never cheerful anymore, just faintly suspicious. Blaine hated it. He was always on edge these days. It felt like his dad was trying to catch him out at something. Sometimes Blaine almost managed to convince himself that his dad really believed "being gay" was just an act to piss him off, and was trying to catch Blaine exposing his "hetero."

"Sports thing at Everett Vauxhall. Going to go watch the guys from Dalton." Blaine shifted from foot to foot slightly. His father's face seemed almost interested.

"Oh. What game?"

"It's a meet. Swimming." Blaine returned.

"Oh." He could read the disappointment in his father's face and tone. Blaine huffed faintly in disbelief, surprised he had any left when it came to this. He moved to push through the door.

"Actually Blaine, I could use a hand around here. I think it would be-"

"Dad- I already said I'd go, and now I'm late. You didn't have anything for me to do five minutes ago."

"Blaine."

"No! This is so unfair." Blaine protested, sending his father a sharp, hurt look. It must have stung more than usual, because his father's jaw was getting tight with irritation now. "Give me one good reason why I can't go."

"Because you have better things to do than spending your day staring at boys!" He snapped back. Blaine almost laughed in disbelief.

"And if I went and stared at girls it would be okay?"

His father ground his jaw for a moment before stumbling out an awkward denial.

"This isn't about you being...It's nothing to do with that."

"It's everything to do with that! That's all anything has to do with anymore. God Dad, being gay isn't the only thing I am!"

His father shook his head in denial.

"It's all anyone's going to see! When you go out in the real world, when you try to get a job-"

"It's not like I'm going to be putting it on my resume. Blaine Anderson, B.A., G.A.Y." Blaine shot back mockingly.

"I just think it would be easier on you if..."

Blaine cut him off again, his voice suddenly quiet and clear and beseeching in the empty house.

"Did you ever once think that it might be easier on me to have my parents supporting me?" Blaine couldn't help lowering his voice further to match the still atmosphere, and lowering his eyes away from his father. "If you really cared about what was easier on me we wouldn't be having this conversation. Now can I please just go?"

His dad stared hard at him, trying to figure out a problem Blaine couldn't help thinking was of his own making. It was like his father was always looking for a hint of where he went wrong. Blaine wanted him to realized that he hadn't made a mistake, that his parenting hadn't gone wrong, because Blaine wasn't wrong.

"So is there a reason for this sudden interest in swimming. Have you...You've got someone you're... seeing?" Blaine almost winced at the insinuation in his dad's tone.

"I...I have a boyfriend, Dad." He couldn't keep the disbelief out of his voice. Was it really that hard to imagine two guys dating, liking each other?

"He's older, I guess?" Blaine shook his head again. Seriously?

"No. He's a sophomore, at Dalton."

"And on the swim team." Blaine glanced at the clock on the microwave.

"Yes. And I'm late to see him race. Can I please go?"

His father stared at him for a moment before he shrugged faintly and moved out of the way. Blaine strode out the door and even though he knew it wasn't the most mature thing to do, slammed the door behind him.

Devon looked up at the viewing gallery windows, trying to catch a glimpse of Blaine. The dark head wasn't anywhere among the spectators.

"Hey man, I'm sure he'll be here in time. He promised. Just try and focus on your race." His teammate Dallas squeezed his shoulder and tried to give him an encouraging smile. Devon just nodded and continued chewing nervously at his lip.

Blaine pulled into a spot at Everett-Vauxhall and jumped out of the driver's side.

"Shitshitshit." He mumbled under his breath as he jogged to the front doors, following the paper signs that directed him towards the "Tri-County High School Swim Meet." He yanked open the door up to the viewing gallery and climbed the stairs, brushing past a women and her young daughter roughly in his hurry.

He moved towards the glass, trying to get a view over shoulders, raising up on his toes.

"What race are they at?"

A girl in a very oversized E-V hoodie looked at him with a smile.

"They just finished the last boys freestyles. Are you waiting for your girlfriend's race?"

Blaine's face fell, rubbing his palm over the back of his neck.

"Missed it. My boyfriend's a freestyle racer." Blaine murmured, searching for Devon on the pool deck.

"You're here for your boyfriend? My girlfriend does backstroke next. Which one's yours?" The girl smiled even wider and tried to follow Blaine's searching eyes.

He stalled when he saw the familiar tan, broad shouldered form. It turned and Devon looked up at him for a moment. Blaine's mouth opened slightly, his throat almost letting out a croak. What was he going to do? Yell through the glass?

Devon turned away from him and retreated to the team bench, pulling his hoodie up over his face and staring out at the pool. One of his teammates asked him something, but there was only a shrug of the shoulders in response. Shit.

Blaine frowned as the chatter of voices disappeared from the halls, leaving him in silence. He stared at the locker room door that hadn't moved in the ten minutes he had been waiting.

This was ridiculous.

At the creak of the door and the sound of footsteps on the tiles, Devon looked over his shoulder. Seeing Blaine, he turned back to his locker sharply, yanking his bag out from the bottom.

"You aren't supposed to be in here."

Blaine stood, crossing one arm over his chest to grab the other.

"I wanted to say sorry for being late. But everyone else came out and I didn't see you."

"Yeah, well that's been happening a lot this day." Devon muttered. He slung the strap of his bag over his shoulder, keeping it between them as he stepped over the bench and pushed past Blaine. "I have to go catch up on homework."

"I thought we could go out and have lunch. Celebration, and an apology. You must be hungry."

Blaine stepped a little closer again, but Devon crossed his arms, glancing at the door.

"I'm tired."

"Dev-" Blaine reached out, exasperation hinting in his voice.

"What?" Devon ground out, glaring at the bank of lockers over Blaine's shoulder, his eyebrows drawn.

'I said I'm sorry. What else did you want me to do!"

Devon's eyes snapped to his and his hands clenched around the strap of his kit bag.

"I wanted you to be there. Like you promised!" Blaine pulled back at the other boy's sharp response and Devon took the chance to slip away and out the door.

"Kurt! Door!" Kurt slipped out his earphones at Finn's shout and frowned. He wasn't expecting anyone. Actually he'd been looking forward to a quiet weekend away from the Dalton dorms.

Kurt padded down the stairs and peered at the half open door.

"Blaine?" Blaine leaned in and gave a half hearted smile.

"Hey. Sorry for just dropping in, but I really needed to talk to some one who would understand."

"Come in." Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand and pulled him inside, leading his way back up to his room. Kurt took his seat on the end of his bed as Blaine collapsed in the desk chair.

Blaine spun back and forth slowly for a few minutes before Kurt finally prompted him.

"Did something happen?"

Blaine's head fell back and he stared at the ceiling.

"You ever have one of those days where no matter what you do, everything just keeps getting worse?"

Kurt gave a affirming hum, leaving the air free for Blaine to continue.

"I promised Dev that I'd go to his meet today. He asked especially, because his family couldn't be there. And I was going to be there early, but my car was all wonky, and I had to go to the house to borrow the other one, and I kind of got into a fight with my dad." Blaine's chin fell forward onto his chest and he sought out Kurt's gaze.

Kurt smiled sympathetically.

"What did you fight about?"

"What do we always fight about?" Blaine returned, slumping down. "And he knows about Devon. Or at least that I had a boyfriend."

Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"Had?"

"I'm getting there." Blaine rolled his eyes. "He tried to delay me, and then tried to say that he was just trying to think of what was easiest on me."

"Which is what makes things even harder. Like we're trying to be difficult." Kurt replied with a roll of his eyes.

"Exactly." Blaine exclaimed. "By the time I finally escaped, I was late to E-V and I missed Devon's races. And he's pretty pissed."

"Did you tell him why you were late?"

"I didn't even get a chance."

"And he just broke up with you?" Kurt frowned, but Blaine just pouted a little, resting his chin on his crossed arms.

"No. I guess I'm being a bit dramatic. I hope. I think he's mostly just upset. And its just like... one thing after another. I was already feeling crappy, and now Dev's mad, and I just...I wanted someone who kind of knew what it was like. My dad I mean. Not that your dad is anything like him, just..."

Kurt interrupted.

"I know."

Blaine smiled weakly back.

"Thanks Kurt."

"Why don't we take a day away from your dad and Dalton and boyfriends." Kurt grabbed his phone and turned it off with a flick. "We'll watch musicals and sing our lungs out until Finn goes nuts and tries to drown us out with Call of Duty."

Blaine's grin grew as he slowly hefted himself from the chair.

"That sounds pretty nice actually."

It was ten when Blaine said he had to get back for weekend curfew. Kurt waved as Blaine pulled out of the driveway, and reached into his pocket. He turned his phone on and wasn't surprised as it buzzed in a series of alerts. Texts from Rachel, Mercedes, the Warblers, and Flint. Kurt smiled and flicked to Flint's first.

"Hey sweetheart."

"You there? I thought you had your phone melded with your hand by now?"

"Okay, well, give me a shout when you get the messages."

Kurt felt a little curl of warmth in his chest as he dialled Flint's number.

"Hello?"

"Hi babe."

"Hey." Kurt bit his lip. There was something about the way that Flint's voice dropped and softened when he realized he was on the other end of the line. "I was wondering where you'd got to. Busy day?"

"Crisis hangout. Blaine had a fight with his dad and one with Devon."

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah. His dad's never been fully okay with him being gay and I guess it just...boiled over a bit."

"That sucks."

"Mhmmm." Kurt hummed thoughtfully. "I guess we're both pretty lucky that way."

"Yeah." Flint murmured, before a muffled shout and the sound of something soft hitting a wall and sliding to the floor interrupted.

"What was that?" Kurt grinned at the exasperated sigh Flint released.

"Family is great, but sometimes little sisters suck." Flint said the second half of the sentence loudly and Kurt knew he was calling it out to Danielle. "Look, I have to go win a pillow battle as the culmination to the family night that is going on, but I'll see you tomorrow morning?"

"Dedicate your win to me?"

"Will do sweetheart."

Flint came out of the change rooms again and spun around slickly.

"Come on. This totally works." Kurt stood from the bench and looked over him appraisingly. They had been digging through the vintage and consignment store for an hour and their finds were heaped in the changing rooms as they took turns trying on outfits.

"The shirt and vest are nice. They fit well, and they're natural fibres, so you won't overheat."

"What about the shoes?" Flint grinned and stuck out a pair of pink and aqua wingtips.

"Those shoes look like they should be on Pimp Bear from the Carebears."

"What! I like them, and I'm totally going to get them." Flint teased as he strutted back and forth in front of the mirrors.

"Not while I'm alive."Kurt muttered darkly, glaring at the pastel horrors. "Please take them off before I do something drastic."

"Spoilsport." Flint toes the shoes off and left them outside before slipping back behind the curtain and returning in a pair of pale desert boots.

"Better?" Kurt let his gaze travel from top to bottom, taking in the other boy with a quirked smile.

"Much." He stepped in, pulling at the bottom of the vest to straighten the sides and smoothing the collar of the light green oxford underneath. Flint felt his chest snag slightly as the very tips of Kurt's shoes pressed on the toes of his, pressure growing as Kurt rose up slightly.

"This colour is really good for you. Your eyes look amazing." Kurt held his gaze for a moment before stepping down and aside, slipping past with only a moment to duck in and whisper in Flint's ear.

"And your ass looks amazing in those." Kurt's finger hooked onto the edge of his pocket and gave a quick tug.

"Come on sweet thing. Not fair." Flint groaned as Kurt slipped behind his own curtain with a teasing flick of fabric. The only response was the soft lilt of Kurt humming to himself as Flint waited impatiently for his return.

"So I think this one might be it." Kurt called. Flint perked up slightly as the curtain was yanked back, revealing Kurt in a pair of super short neon swim shorts and a sleeveless plaid button down.

Flint broke out in a snort of laughter as he fumbled for his phone.

"Please. Please let me get a picture."

"No! Don't you dare Flint Wilson!" Kurt shot back, his face switching from amused to horrified. The curtain pulled shut and Flint could hear Kurt fumbling to change out of the ridiculous outfit before he could get any evidence on his phone.

"No fun!" Flint called back, smiling widely as he gave up hope of a picture and just leaned back, waiting for Kurt to reappear.

Devon clapped his textbook shut again in frustration. He was mad at Blaine. Well, more like upset. Actually, he was really just kind of scared. Maybe he wasn't worth it. Maybe he wasn't worth the time of someone like Blaine. Maybe he was just a convenient distraction, like he had been before.

"Why are you sulking? You won two out of three races yesterday." Joe asked, looking up from cramming his laundry into the drawers of his bed.

"Joe, just leave me alone for once?" Devon plugged his second ear bud into his left ear and hunched over his notebook. Joe just rolled his eyes. Devon was a great roommate for the most part, but he could be a moody bastard.

There was a knock at the door and a glance across the room told Joe that Devon wasn't moving from his bed anytime soon.

"Don't worry, I'll get it." Joe rolled his eyes and opened the door. Blaine's eyes snapped up to him, looking a apprehensive.

"Is Devon in?" Joe glanced back at Devon resolutely staring down at a page he probably wasn't reading.

"Yeah, but I don't think he's really in the mood to talk to anyone right now. You might want to wait."

"Yeah...I know." Blaine looked a little guilty and Joe's eyebrow rose in suspicion.

"Ah. Right. Well, if you did this, please fix it." Joe replied, grabbing his bag off the chair and slipping out the door. "I'll be back before dinner"

Devon glanced up as the door closed and frowned. He pulled his earbuds out.

"Joe let you in?"