Chapter 17: Meet the Parents

Blaine was walking through the forest with Kurt. There was a loud noise and they began to run. There was something in the woods, growling hungrily at them. It sounded like a wolf or a bear. He took Kurt's hand and sprinted as fast as he could, desperate to get away.

There was another growl, much closer this time, and Kurt screamed out in fear.

Out from behind the trees their pursuer emerged. It was no fierce monster; however, but a man. It was David Karofsky. He growled at them, like a feral cat.

There was no way Blaine was letting him get to Kurt again. He had to keep him safe. He kept himself between Kurt and Dave, running as fast as he could, his feet catching on roots.

He glanced over his shoulder but somehow now it was Rick, one of the bullies from his old school, chasing them. His foot caught under a root and sent him flying to the ground.

Blaine looked up again and now it really was a wolf chasing him. It leaped towards him and Blaine felt a heavy weight on his chest…

"Baby Blaine! Wake-up, little brother!"

Blaine gasped awake, his heart pounding, to discover the weight on his chest was his brother, Cooper, sitting on him. Blaine roughly shoved him off.

"D-Don't do that! You know I hate it when you-you do that, Coop!"

Cooper smiled innocently at him.

"What? No, big hello hug for your big brother who you haven't seen in months?" he asked, pouting.

He felt guilty for lashing out at Cooper, he had just been so startled and the nightmare had felt so real.

Blaine took in a deep breath, clearing the final echoes of his nightmare. You're safe. Kurt is safe. There is no wolf here, unless Cooper counts.

"S-sorry, it's great to see you, bro." Blaine leaned across to wrap an arm around his brother in a side-hug. "I…I need to get d-dressed." He gestured towards the door, indicating that Cooper should leave.

"Fine! But you had better tell me about this new boyfriend of yours over breakfast! I can't believe I had to hear about it from Mom! Can't you tell me just a little bit about him now?" Cooper pleaded with him playfully.

"Out!" Blaine practically had to shove Cooper out of his room. He locked the door just in case; Cooper had only a casual respect for closed doors and other permeable boundaries.

After a hot shower and proper clothes, Blaine was able to shake off the nightmare.

When he emerged into the kitchen, his father was frying up bacon and eggs on the stove. Blaine poured himself a cup of coffee before taking a seat at the kitchen table. Cooper sat in his usual chair, the one that sat empty most days now that Cooper lived in Los Angeles.

Cooper smirked mischievously at Blaine. "So, what's his name?" he asked in a teasing, sing-song voice. "Mom told me but…was it Kirk? Oh, like Star Trek!"

"K-K-Kurt."

"And he doesn't mind when you stutter on his name?"

"No, Cooper, he doesn't mind. He has actually been r-r-really cool about my stu-stu-stuttering, unlike some people." Blaine glared pointedly at his brother.

"What?" Cooper protested. "I'm just making sure he's good enough for my baby brother. That's not a crime, is it? So how did you meet this mysterious Kurt? Oh, tell me it was scandalous."

What would that even mean? I'm in high school, for crying out loud. It's not like I picked him up at a sleazy club.

"In G-G-Glee Club at my new school. He is also my-my-my lab partner in Chemistry. We were g-good friends before we-we started d-dating."

"So, do you have good…Chemistry?" Cooper asked with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Blaine's cheeks flushed pink. "I…I…I am not a-a-answering that."

"Come on! You never have anything juicy to tell me!" Cooper pouted, like an overgrown child.

"Cooper, don't tease your brother!" His father admonished.

"What? I'm just asking!" Cooper complained. He groaned, "Ugh, fine! So, what is he like?"

Blaine studied Cooper's face for a moment, trying to discern if his intentions were genuine. He really did want to tell him all about Kurt but only if he wasn't just asking so he could tease Blaine about him more.

"He's got an a-a-amazing voice, an encyclo-clo-clo-clopedic knowledge of Broadway musicals, and this very creative fashion sense."

"So, basically, he's like super gay?" Cooper asked.

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Being gay is a b-binary state, Cooper, either you are or you aren't."

"I see someone has never heard of the Kinsey scale," Cooper retorted.

"You know that research is very out of date," his mother interjected. Mom knows about the Kinsey scale?

She must have seen Blaine and Cooper's twin faces of surprise. "What? A mother can't do a little research when her son comes out of the closet?"

Blaine felt a surge of warmth towards his mother.

She turned to Cooper, "I don't think Blaine means that sexuality is not a spectrum, dear, rather that loving musicals doesn't actually make you more or less gay. Blaine's boyfriend is a person, not a stereotype."

"I know that! I live in L.A. for goodness sake, I probably have more gay friends that Baby Blaine does. God, can no one in this family take a joke?" Cooper huffed.

"Yeah, b-b-but only if they're actually fffunny," Blaine retorted.

"Oooh, I think I'm going to need some Neosporin for that sick burn, Blaine. Nice one!" He reached out to fist bump Blaine and just like that the bickering was over.

His father brought over a big serving dish of bacon and eggs and the four of them gathered for the first family breakfast of the holidays.

"Now Blaine, I know Christmas is a busy time but I do hope we can meet your boyfriend at some point. Maybe you could invite him over for dinner one night. What do you think, sweetheart?"

"Sssure." You can't put it off forever. Might as well rip the band-aid off.

—

"Stop fidgeting, Blaine," Cooper admonished.

"Leave your brother alone, it's perfectly normal to be nervous about introducing your boyfriend to your parents. If you ever dated a girl long enough to introduce her to us then perhaps you would be more sympathetic."

Blaine leaned over to whisper to Cooper, "You can have that N-N-Neosporin back. I think you n-n-need it more than me." Cooper snickered in response.

*Ding Dong*

Blaine jumped up when the doorbell rang. "E-E-Everyone, st-stay here!" he insisted, before jogging to open the front door. He wanted a minute to say hello to Kurt in private before his entire family swooped in on him like vultures.

Why am I so excited to see him? It's only few a few days.

He was practically bursting with excitement. They had only officially been boyfriends for less than two weeks and everything still felt very new. Blaine's fingers fumbled for a moment with the door latch before he swung open the front door. Kurt!

Kurt looked amazing, as he always did. A few snowflakes glittered in his perfectly-styled hair and his cheeks were adorably red from the cold. He lit up when he saw Blaine in the doorway and greeted him with shy excitement. "Hi."

Blaine responded, grinning stupidly. "Hi!"

They stared at each other for a moment before Blaine pulled Kurt into a tight hug. "I missed you," he whispered in his ear. "Also, I'm s-s-sorry in advance for anything r-rude or weird my family says."

Kurt pulled back and chuckled. "Should I be worried? Does your father own a shotgun? Is he going to make threats that involve your virtue?" he asked in mock concern.

Just having Kurt here, smiling and making jokes, and looking so beautiful covered in snow, well, it was already easing the anxious tension of anticipation that had been building all day.

Blaine leaned forward to give Kurt an unfortunately brief kiss on the lips before taking his hand, "Come on, I w-w-won't let them shoot you."

His father was pretty traditional about a lot of things but as popular as owning guns was in their part of the country, that was one tradition he eschewed. He spent too much time in courtrooms and had heard too many horror stories working as a prosecutor.

Blaine still remembered the lecture his father had given him where he had rattled off statistics about being more likely to be shot by your own gun than to ward off intruders. "I want you to promise me to never keep a gun in your house, Blaine. Especially if you have children. No one thinks it will happen to them but it does." It was a little more than Blaine's nine-year-old brain had been able to process but it had certainly stuck with him.

He welcomed Kurt into his house, remembering to take his coat like a gentleman, just as his mother had taught him. The Andersons always took off their shoes after entering the house but—given that it was Kurt's first time here—Blaine assumed this would require explanation. When he returned from the coat closet; however, Kurt had already neatly tucked his boots into an empty space on the shoe rack. Nice!

Taking Kurt's hand again, Blaine led him into the family room where everyone was waiting. He hoped they didn't look too intimidating, all sitting in a row on the couch, looking up at them expectantly. They look like a firing squad. Maybe it would have been less awkward if I'd let them just come to the door? Oh well, too late.

"Mother, F-Father, Cooper, this is my b-boyfriend K-K-Kurt. Kurt, this is my father P-Patrick, my mother Jasmine, and my brother C-Cooper."

They stood up and one by one shook hands with Kurt. So far, Kurt seemed calm and comfortable introducing himself to Blaine's family. "It's so nice to finally meet you Mr. and Mrs. Anderson. Thank you so much for inviting me over for dinner. Cooper, I've heard so much about you."

Blaine's father had an unfortunately noticeable reaction to Kurt's voice when he spoke for the first time; his eyebrows shot up and he leaned back slightly. Should I have warned them that he has a high voice? Well, at least he didn't say anything. I guess it could be worse.

Trust Cooper to make it worse. "Wow, your voice is so high, Kurt! They must love you in Glee Club. What is your range?"

"Thank you, yes it does have some advantages for singing. My range is over three octaves. I can hit the F5 in 'Defying Gravity' no problem but I can also go lower than you might expect. I sang the intro to 'Give Up the Funk' last year, and that has an A2."

"R-Really? I didn't know that, K-Kurt?" Blaine said in surprise. As close as he already felt to Kurt, it was a good reminder that there were still so many things to learn about him. Blaine wanted to know all of them.

"Uh-huh!" Kurt said proudly. Then he demonstrated, "Tear the roof off, tear the roof off." Kurt had mentioned his three octave range right at the beginning of their friendship, when he was trying to convince Blaine that they should be duet partners. But somehow he hadn't thought about how low Kurt could go, only how high. Blaine was impressed and—if he was completely honest—a tiny bit jealous.

Blaine met his mother and father's eyes. They smiled politely but this was probably going way over their heads. They knew music was important to Blaine but they didn't know very much about it. At least Cooper had done choir in high school, so he could appreciate Kurt's talent.

"Awesome!" Cooper high-fived Kurt, looking genuinely impressed. "You must get all the solos! At least the ones Baby Blaine gets, of course."

Kurt arched an eyebrow at him, mouthing 'Baby Blaine?' Blaine just shrugged in response. Then Kurt turned to Cooper, "No, actually, it's pretty rare for me to get a solo. Our director is a bit…traditional when it comes to that sort of thing. When Blaine and I performed a duet a Sectionals this year, that was my first time getting a lead for a competition number."

"I always forget how behind everything is here," Cooper complained. "You should move out to L.A. when you graduate like I did. Trust me, no one there will think you're a freak. They actually appreciate talent in Hollywood, unlike some places."

And now he's calling Kurt a freak. Great, just great.

Kurt looked genuinely pleased, however. "That's nice to hear. I would love to move to a bigger, more progressive city for college."

"If you can sing that low, then why don't you speak down there? Have you ever tried?" His father asked. "It might keep some of that unwanted attention off your back, just, you know, until you can move somewhere your, uh, unique talents are better appreciated."

Blaine's eyes widened in silent horror. Things had been going well enough so far but this was exactly what he had feared: his father telling Kurt to 'tone it down.' Kurt was not going to take kindly to that.

Kurt looked taken aback but if he was offended he was doing a good job of covering it up. "Yes, I tried once for about a week. It actually strained my voice to speak out of my natural register. As a singer, I have to prioritize vocal hygiene above all else."

"Oh, fascinating, I had no idea that would be bad for your voice. Quite right to protect the tools of your trade." His father seemed satisfied by Kurt's explanation. Blaine let out a sigh of relief.

He could see the gears turning in Kurt's head, deciding if he should give the less palatable explanation. As much as Blaine wanted tonight to go well, he hated to see Kurt holding himself back. It felt…wrong. He knew that Kurt would never change his voice to try to fit in, even if there were no repercussions for his singing.

"K-Kurt's not a follower, Dad, he is a —trendsetter. It's one of the r-r-reasons I like him."

Kurt gave him the softest look and reached out to squeeze his hand. Seeing Kurt's reaction was all he needed to know that he had said the right thing.

Blaine's father cleared his throat. "Right then, just…just be careful out there, alright boys? Don't invite trouble where there doesn't need to be any."

His mother jumped in and skillfully shifted the subject. "So, Kurt, have you thought about what you would like to study in college yet? Will you do any college visits this year?"

"I would love to study the performing arts. Musical theater is my biggest passion, but of course I understand it's very competitive. I'm still trying to decide if I should go somewhere more specialized to hone my craft or to a bigger school where I can take other classes so I have something to fall back on."

"That's a very thoughtful answer, young man." Blaine let out a sigh of relief. Praise from his father was only given if it was sincere. "So you have a backup plan, then?"

"Sort of. I mean if nothing else works out, I'm sure my dad would love it if I took over his business one day but it's not really what I'm passionate about. Finn and I could probably run it together, actually. That would be sort of cute."

Blaine couldn't imagine Kurt as the proprietor of his father's shop, but considering Kurt's strong organizational skills he was sure that he would excel at it.

"Oh, your father is a business owner? What is his business?" his father asked curiously.

"Hummel Tire and Lube? It's on North, by the Dairy Queen."

"Oh yes, I think I've driven by before. Never been inside, though. I tried to get Blaine interested in cars but it never stuck. Do you know your way around under the hood?"

What is this a masculinity test? Ugh, Dad!

"Yeah, pretty well. I've been helping out at the shop since I was twelve and Dad lets me handle simple repairs and maintenance jobs now. I'm not certified for brakes or anything more advanced like that; although, he's taught me how." Kurt shrugged. It was clear that there was no excitement when he explained his mechanical skills after seeing him enthuse about his vocal range.

Blaine suddenly had a strong mental image of Kurt rolling out from underneath a car, his face smudged with grease. He felt his face flush. Ah! No sexy daydreams in from of my parents.

They managed to stick to fairly safe topics until the oven timer went off and everyone transitioned into the dining room. Kurt complimented his mother on her cooking and their shared love of food carried them for another five minutes of pleasant chit-chat. Kurt was already promising to share some of his favorite recipes with her, which had Blaine smiling fondly at both of them.

Then things took a turn.

"Do you always dress like this, Kurt?"

Oh, no, no. Dad! Blaine tried to call out in protest but he blocked, "—"

"I'm sorry, was this not formal enough, Mr. Anderson?" Kurt asked, with a slight edge in his voice.

Blaine's mother rushed in to try to smooth things over. "Of course not, dear, you look lovely. I adore the pattern on your vest; it's quite stylish."

"It just seems like it might attract…unwanted attention," his father explained. "I don't mean to judge, son, I'm just concerned for Blaine's safety."

Blaine groaned and buried his face in his hands. This can't be happening.

"Oh," said Kurt with a grimace. "Well, um, to answer your original question, yes, I do always dress like this. Fashion is another passion of mine and I see it as a vital modality for self-expression. I'm fully aware that I don't dress the same as other people and so was Blaine when asked me to be his boyfriend. And, yes, it does sometimes attract unwanted attention."

There was definitely a sharp edge to Kurt's voice now. Get it together. Stop hiding and do something! Blaine unburied his face and checked to see how upset Kurt looked. His eyes were flashing and he could see the muscles bulging near his jaw, so he must be clenching his teeth. Blaine found his hand under the table and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"—Dad, st-stop it!" Blaine cried out.

"I just don't want to get another phone call that my son is unconscious in the hospital," his father said angrily, pounding the table. "I don't see why you have to take unnecessary risks like that when there are dangerous people out there."

"Mr. Anderson, sir, I'm well aware of Blaine's history. Trust me, I dread that phone call too." Kurt said.

Wait, you do?

"I would be devastated if anything happened to Blaine. But I also know that making decisions about how to live my life based on fear isn't really living for me. I would be miserable if I couldn't express my individuality and to me it feels like letting the bullies win. I would never intentionally do anything to risk Blaine's safety but I'm also not going to change who I am. I didn't change who I am for my own father so, all due respect, I'm certainly not going to for anyone else. Your son accepts me, just as I am. He has a very big heart and I can only assume that's how you raised him."

Kurt finally exhaled and gave Blaine a worried, apologetic look.

There was an awkward, tense moment of silence at the dinner table. Blaine's father was gripping the arms of his chair and Kurt was decidedly avoiding eye contact with him.

Finally, Blaine's mother broke the silence. She cleared her throat and then said, "I'm going to clear the dishes and get dessert ready to serve. It needs a few minutes to cool. Cooper, perhaps you could show Kurt where Blaine's room is? I'm sure he would love to give you the full tour. Blaine's going to speak to his father in private and then I'll send him right up."

Blaine reluctantly released Kurt's hand as he followed Cooper to the staircase. Kurt gave him a long look before he disappeared out of view.

"You two need to talk this out," his mother declared firmly. "We do not air our dirty laundry in front of guests like that." She turned on her heels and marched back into the kitchen. I guess she really is going to do dishes.

Blaine glared at his father, waiting for him to make the first move.

"You know how hard it was for me when you came out, Blaine. I finally got to a place where I could accept that this is just who you are, that it's something you have no control over. But you had to choose this boy of all the boys you could have chosen? I mean he's sweet but could you have found someone who was more of a flashing sign that says 'target'? Next time I could be getting a phone call from the morgue instead of the hospital. I just wish you had picked someone more sensible."

Anger churned within him. He was furious.

"I ch-chose him because he is k-k-kind, he is talented, he has h-h-had my back every time I n-n-needed him. Did you know he…he was the fi-first person I ever t-t-told about my st-stuttering? Did you know he t-t-t-took me to that su-su-support group that you were too busy to go to w-with me? He is the b-b-best thing that has ever ha-ha-happened to me!" Blaine declared fiercely. Then he finally voiced his deepest fear, the one he had tried not to even think about. "You c-can't make me st-stop seeing him! Please!"

His father blinked at him in shock. It had been a long time since Blaine had raised his voice to his father. After a few moments, his face softened.

"I wasn't—I would never tell you to stop seeing him. Especially not after you've made it crystal clear how important he is to you. I…" he let out a deep sigh, trailing off into thought. "He sounds like a great person who you value for the right reasons. I keep telling your brother not to be so superficial and here you are, so much younger and already you know what really matters in a relationship. I'm still not thrilled about it because I'll worry every time the two of you go out in town, but…I want you to be happy, Blaine. Kurt makes you happy, Blaine?"

Blaine blinked back tears and nodded.

"Then I'll try to keep my concerns to myself. Why don't you go on up and apologize to him for my rude behavior. Tell him I'm sorry."

"Th-thanks, Dad."

—

When Blaine got up to his room, he found Kurt sitting at his desk looking at the pictures Blaine had pinned to his cork board. He locked the door and plopped onto the bed.

"Your parents let you lock the door with a boy in your room?" Kurt asked with surprise. he stood up and sat next to Blaine on the bed, taking his hand. He seemed calmer than when he had left the table.

"I a-a-always lock it when Cooper's home. I swear, he is like, uh, allergic to knocking. They n-never said I couldn't, so…" Blaine shrugged.

"Who knew my boyfriend was such a rebel?" Kurt said with a mischievous grin.

I should be the one trying to cheer him up not the other way around. He really is the best.

"God, Kurt, I am so sorry about my father. Ugh, I don't even—I j-j-just knew he was going to pull something like that."

"I was thinking maybe I should apologize to you for losing my temper with your dad. I don't want to cause problems for you at home. Thank you for standing up for me, though. I think I could have dealt with a lot worse as long you were there, having my back."

Blaine reached out to wrap his arms around Kurt's waist. "Always," he promised. "He, uh, he d-d-did tell me to —apologize to you."

"Well that's…unexpected. What changed his mind?" Kurt asked, gazing searchingly into Blaine's eyes.

"I m-may have ye-yelled a bit…ab-about how great you are." Blaine blushed at the confession.

Kurt leaned closer into Blaine's embrace.

"You really are fine with how much I…don't conform? Because I meant what I said about not changing for anyone. I like you so much, Blaine, but I meant it." Kurt was firm but also sounded worried.

"I'm kind of cr-crazy about —all the ways you d-don't conform, actually." Blaine hoped he sounded as sincere as he felt. Kurt had told him about his brief stint pretending to be straight and Blaine could never manage to picture him wearing his father's flannels, singing Mellencamp. It felt like some kind of blasphemy. The world would be a darker place without Kurt lighting it up.

He must have gotten his point across, because Kurt was giving him that soft look again. "I don't know how I got so lucky, finding you, Blaine."

Blaine suddenly felt the strongest urge to be close to Kurt, to show him just how lucky he was to have found Kurt. He reached out to cup Kurt's cheek before leaning in to kiss him. This time was different than when he had greeted Kurt as the door. There was a locked door between them and the rest of his family. Finally, he had Kurt all to himself.

He wrapped his arm around Kurt's back, gently pulling him closer, pressing his lips more firmly against Kurt's. Kurt made some kind of pleased noise in response and then deepened their kiss. His tongue, sweet and hesitant, brushed against Blaine's. Blaine held him even tighter in response. He pulled at Kurt, desperately, just wanting him as close as possible without really knowing how.

Then his pulling turned into falling, falling and pulling, until he was laying on his back with Kurt's warm body above him. Oh, this is how you get closer.

He let his hands roam and explore the unfamiliar and exciting landscape of Kurt's back, his arms, his face. His lips wandered too, pressing kisses onto the soft skin of his cheeks, the sharp angles of his nose, the warm skin of his neck, before returning to his lips again.

Feeling Kurt's warm weight pressing down on him was…his new favorite thing. Kurt seemed to be enjoying it too because his kissing became more enthusiastic. Sandwiched between Kurt and the bed, Blaine was in heaven.

At sixteen, Blaine was no stranger to the rush of teenage hormones but his experience sharing them with another person was pretty limited and he had never felt them in the presence of romantic feelings until Kurt. It was a thousand times better and a thousand times more powerful. He might have finally found something that compared with the high of performing in front of a cheering crowd. He remembered thinking that making out with Nick was "fun." Making out with Kurt was…transcendent.

But then the wonderful pressure on his chest lifted. A groan of disappointment escaped before he could stop it. Kurt had rolled off of him and now lay next to him, on his bed, a bit out of breath. Was that too much?

Blaine turned onto his side so they could face each other. Kurt had an enormous grin on his face. Kurt looked so delighted that Blaine's disappointment quickly evaporated. Kurt was breathing heavily, his cheeks pink the way they always got after dance rehearsal. He was looking at Blaine the way that Blaine looked at the cake his mother served for Christmas dinner every year.

"You know, you really are quite devastatingly good at that, Blaine. The, uh, kissing, that is." Kurt's voice was unusually breathy when he spoke.

"I…it…it's never felt like that, b-before. I think it's…it's all you, Kurt."

Kurt pressed his lips briefly to Blaine's before sitting up. He let out a sigh. "We should probably make ourselves presentable enough to come down for dessert before your parents realize they left two teenage boys up here with the door locked."

"Fine, I… suppose you're right." Blaine said with a pout. Why does he have to be so responsible?

—

The Andersons had their traditional Christmas Eve Dinner and then Blaine and Cooper were banished to the upstairs at 8:00 because, "otherwise Santa won't come," their mother insisted. He seemed to be in some sort of detente with his father where they were acting normally towards each other and just not discussing Kurt.

Blaine flopped onto Cooper's bed, "Is she ever g-g-going to drop the Santa thing, Coop?"

"I'm twenty-five and she's still sticking to it so at this point it seems doubtful. Just try to accept it as an adorable quirk. I find that it's less annoying that way."

Blaine laughed as he rifled through his brother's DVD collection. "'It's a W-Wonderful Life' or 'Nightmare Before Christmas'?" he asked, holding up the two choices.

"Mom is just going to make us watch 'It's a Wonderful Life' again tomorrow, so definitely Nightmare Before Christmas. Besides, you don't mind when I sing along to all the songs. Father always complains."

"I wwwould be —disappointed if you didn't, Coop." Blaine smiled to himself as he started setting up the DVD player. As annoying as his brother could be, in this moment he found himself glad to have him home. Christmas wouldn't be the same without staying up late watching movies with his brother. It was tradition.

Blaine's train of thought was interrupted by his phone chiming at him. He pulled it out of his pocket.

Kurt: I hope you are at least half as full of Turkey as I am. Dad is going to have to roll me down the stairs tomorrow but it was so worth it.

Blaine: I'm practically spherical.

Kurt: Good boy.

Kurt: I know you're busy with family stuff, but I was hoping you might be able to come over for a few hours on Saturday to help me bake Christmas cookies. I could really use some muscle to keep Finn from inhaling all of them before I even get a chance to decorate.

Blaine: That sounds perfect. It is right on schedule for me to get stir-crazy and need to leave the house so I don't murder Cooper.

Kurt: Come at 11. I don't care what you do to your brother but if you get blood in my dough then *I* will murder *you*

Blaine: Aww, you say the sweetest things.

Kurt: You can't see me right now but I'm making my dead serious face. Don't fuck with my cookies, Anderson.

Blaine: I love that face! It's so cute!

Kurt just responded with an angry emoji face that made Blaine laugh.

Blaine: See you then! Have a good Christmas!

"Oooh, texting your boyfriend?" Cooper teased.

"Yeah," Blaine said with a contented sigh. "We're going to —bake Christmas cookies the d-day after tomorrow. If you're nice to me I might bring you b-back some."

"I'll try my best!"

Blaine bit his lip nervously. "So wh-what did you think? About d-d-dinner the other n-night?"

"Kurt's awesome!"

"But Dad—I mean—he was…you know. And I mean…are they even really r-r-ready for me to have a boyfriend at all?" Blaine asked, not quite sure if he was being clear.

"Well, I'm pretty sure mom has been ready for you to bring home a significant other since your tenth birthday. Honestly, this probably isn't a real thing but she is a pathological romantic. And Dad, well…Dad is as ready as he's ever going to be. I think it was always going to be an adjustment for him, but he'll get over it, little bro, just give him time. You could have warned him that your boyfriend was so…flamboyant, though. I think he was just surprised."

"Hmm, I su-suppose. I d-d-didn't realize my —boyfriend should come with a —trigger warning," Blaine grumbled.

Cooper just shrugged. "I'm not saying it's fair. I didn't make this world; I'm just trying to live in it."

"I j-j-just wish he…had b-been nicer to K-Kurt. Would that have been so hhhard?"

"I hear you, Blainers. I'm not saying that he's right or anything, but I don't know if you appreciate what he went through when you were attacked. He spends all day locking up psychos and his greatest fear in life has always been one of them getting to his family. Did I ever tell you that he called me that first night?"

Blaine shook his head.

"He was crying so much that for a second I thought you were dead. Mom took the phone away from him after a while. I think she realized he was probably scaring me, but before that he was just ranting about how it was his job to keep you safe and he'd failed. It was…heartbreaking."

"Fuck."

"I mean we were all really worried and upset, but…I don't know, bro. It hit him extra hard. Alright, enough of this sad shit. I want to get my 'This is Halloween' groove on!"

Blaine is 15 years old

When Blaine woke up, he was so groggy that there was a brief moment where it was just another morning, waking up in his bed, tired from staying up too late on a Friday night. Then he wondered if someone had replaced all of his blood with molasses. Slowly, painfully, he took in his surroundings. Too bright florescent lights practically blinded him when he looked up so he clamped his eyes shut before he could get a good look around.

There was an incessant beeping sound coming from somewhere to his side. It was making his head throb.

The lights, the beeping, the pain, the wires and needles he could feel on his hands and chest. You are in the hospital. The more he shook off the thick fog of sleep, the more he became aware of the pain. It was everywhere. His head, his ribs, his arm. Oh, fuck, everything hurts. He moaned audibly.

"Blaine?! Oh my god, Blaine, are you awake?" His mother's familiar voice came from somewhere nearby. Her voice sounded strange, like she had a cold.

"Blaine, son! Can you hear us? Open your eyes for me, please." His father's voice sounded urgent.

"It's t-t-too bright," he choked out, through chapped lips.

"Nurse!" his father demanded.

"Ahh," Blaine cried out in pain. The sound was so loud that he could hear it vibrating inside his head, slamming against his skull.

"Patrick," his mother hissed. "Keep your voice down. You're upsetting Blaine."

His father's voice grew faint and far away. Finally, Blaine could see through his closed eyelids that the lights had been dimmed. Hesitantly, he opened his eyes a crack, and when that went alright he finally opened them the rest of the way.

His parents' eyes were both red and puffy from crying. Blaine had never even seen his father cry before, not once. His mother was clutching Blaine's hand, kissing it over and over again.

She seemed to be talking more to herself than to Blaine when she muttered under her breath, "you're okay. You're safe. My baby's safe." Seeing how upset his parents were, Blaine felt afraid for the first time since he had woken up.

Did I almost die? What happened?

His memory was fuzzy when he tried to remember. He remembered the dance. He remembered waiting for Nick's dad. He remembered lying on the asphalt, the toe of someone's boot hammering his ribs.

A friendly young woman wearing scrubs entered the room. "Knock, knock," she said out loud, not actually knocking. "I'm Nurse Diamond and I heard that someone was finally awake! I know you probably want to spend some time with your son Mr. and Mrs. Anderson but I need to do some quick orientation checks."

Orientation? Are they going to make me climb a mountain? No that's orienteering. Wait, she doesn't mean sexual orientation, does she? How could that possibly be relevant?

Everything felt fuzzy and his thoughts were sluggish and confused.

Thankfully the nurse asked him easy questions like his name, the date, and who the president was. She announced that she was scheduling a CT scan before leaving the room again.

"Am…I-I-I okay?" Blaine asked, voice trembling with fear.

"You're going to be just fine, sweetie. It's nothing the doctors can't fix." His mother gave him a reassuring smile.

"Jazz, you can't promise him that," his father whispered sternly to his mother. They retreated to the far side of the room and clearly seemed to be under the impression that Blaine couldn't hear them. But it was a small room. "The doctor said he might have a brain injury. Just because he knows who the fucking president is doesn't mean he couldn't have serious memory loss. I was up half the night researching the short and long term effects of Traumatic Brain Injury and let me tell you, it's given me something entirely new to have nightmares about. Did you know it can lead to dementia in some cases?"

"Patrick, you're working yourself up into a frenzy. Honestly, I should lock up your computer at night. You know it isn't good for your blood pressure to go on a panic-driven research bender like that. Let the doctors worry about that part. Right now, your son needs you and you're no good to him like this. Blaine needs you to be strong and reassuring. Pull yourself together! Go take a walk or something."

Blaine had never heard his mother get angry at his father like this. It was unsettling.

They walked back over to the bed and his father leaned down to kiss his forehead, careful to stay clear of the bandages. "I'm going to hit the canteen. You want a candy bar or something from the vending machine, son?"

"Sure," said Blaine, although he doubted he could stomach it. He felt nauseous and was starting to fear he might vomit.

"I have a —brain injury?" Blaine asked fearfully.

"Oh dear, you shouldn't have heard that. We don't know anything for certain yet, sweetheart, that's why they are going to do the brain scan this afternoon. Do you remember hitting your head?" she asked.

"Y-Yeah. On the…the railing. It…hurt like h-hell." The memories were incredibly fuzzy but he remembered the pain with sharp clarity. He wished he could forget it.

She kissed his hand again. "You blacked out for a few minutes which means you might have a concussion or some other type of brain injury. They need to check. But the doctor sounded really optimistic when he talked to us. Maybe I can find him to come talk to you, answer some of your questions?"

"I think I'm g-g-going to try to —get some sleep."

—

When Blaine woke up the next time, his father had taken the chair next to his bed. There was a pile of candy bars on the bedside table.

His father noticed where he was looking and chuckled. "I wasn't sure what you wanted and I felt so bad for losing it back there that I just bought all your favorites. They had Red Vines, Milky Way, Swedish Fish, and that Hershey's Bar with the Oreo bits that you like, the one I think looks like puke."

Blaine laughed and then immediately regretted it. There was a sharp pain in his left side.

"Hey, you okay there, son? You made a face. Do you need the nurse?" His face was crinkled up in worry and concern.

"Just d-d-don't make me laugh again. Did they x-ray my r-ribs?"

"Yeah, there's a few that are cracked on the left there. The doctor taped them up already. The bones are all lined up so it's just a matter of letting them heal. I will try to keep my funny bone in check, but you can't hold back this comedian for too long."

"Ha ha, v-v-very funny," Blaine said sarcastically.

"Blaine, your mother told me you overheard our conversation earlier. I'm…well you never should have heard that. You don't have children so you can't possibly understand the terror I felt when I got that phone call that you were in the Emergency Room. When they said that you had been…a-a-attacked, Blaine I was so scared." His voice trembled and his eyes welled up with tears. "If anything had happened to you…well, anything worse, that is….well… I know I probably don't tell you enough but you know how much I love you, right Blaine?"

Blaine's eyes welled up with tears too. "I-I-I know."

Present Day

"Merry —Christmas, Mr. Hummel!" Blaine handed him a loaf of banana bread his mother had pressed into his hands on his way out.

"Merry Christmas, Blaine! But just because you're dating my son now doesn't mean you can't still call me Burt. Come in, come in. Get out of the cold."

It had turned out to be a white Christmas. There was four inches of snow on the ground and there would probably be a couple more by dinner-time. He shucked off his outer layers one by one. Coat, scarf, ear warmers, gloves, and boots were all discarded before Blaine ventured further into the Hummel-Hudson house.

Finn was watching the Buckeyes game in the living room, sporting one of the ugliest Christmas sweaters Blaine had ever seen. Burt settled himself in an armchair; he had clearly been watching as well.

Finn gave him a friendly wave. "'Sup?"

"I have…strict instructions…to keep you away…from Kurt's cookies," he teased.

"Oh, man! I was excited about you two dating but if it means you're going to gang up on me, well then, I dunno if I like this."

"P-P-Promise not to tell Kurt and I'll try to s-s-sneak you one," Blaine whispered.

"You're the man!" Finn exclaimed, offering him a fist bump.

"Kurt's in the kitchen, Blaine." Burt informed him. Blaine nodded and walked into the next room.

Kurt was carefully leveling flour in a measuring cup with the handle of a wooden spoon. Blaine waited until he was finished before announcing his presence, so as not to startle Kurt and cause a spill.

"Good morning, sugar."

"Blaine! I didn't even hear you come in or I would have come to the door. I hope you don't mind but I got a bit of a head start on this first batch of gingerbread cookies."

Kurt wiped his floury hands on his apron and then skipped over to where Blaine was standing. Blushing and smiling, Kurt said, "It's really good to see you again. I would hug you but I don't want to get flour all over that lovely sweater. Is it new?"

"Christmas —present," Blaine explained. "Speaking of which, can I give you p-p-part one of yours now?"

"There's more than one part?" Kurt asked in excitement. "I hope you didn't go too far overboard." He looked a little worried.

"No, no, I p-p-p-promise. It's just a ssssmall thing."

"In that case, yes! Of course, I want my Christmas present." Kurt was simply adorable, bouncing on his toes in excitement.

Blaine pulled a small jewelry box out of his pocket and presented it to Kurt.

"Oh my god, if that is an engagement ring then the answer is yes!"

Blaine rolled his eyes. "J-Just open it."

Kurt winked at him and then opened the box. When he saw what was inside, he gasped in excitement. "Ahh, this is perfect! You have to help me put it on so I can wear it right now."

Seeing Kurt's excitement, Blaine felt relieved that he had chosen well. He removed the gold star pin and fastened it to Kurt's apron, being careful not to stab him with the needle.

Kurt clapped in delight. "I have to show Dad, come on!" He took Blaine's hand and Blaine allowed himself to be dragged into the living room. "Look what Blaine got me, Dad!"

Burt looked up from the game and examined the pin. "Star baker? Oh, from that baking show with the grumpy British lady judge, right?"

"It's called 'Bake Off,' Dad, and Mary Berry is a well-respected baker who has every right to demand excellence from her contestants."

Finn's head popped up from where he had laying on the couch to give them a thumbs up. "Cool!"

Blaine followed Kurt back into the kitchen. Kurt glanced around, as if checking to see if they had been followed. Satisfied that they hadn't, he planted a very lovely but far too short kiss onto Blaine's lips. "Thank you! I love it!"

Blaine smiled. "Good."

Kurt held up two different aprons for Blaine to choose from. One said "Kiss the Chef" and the other Blaine suspected was the result of one of Kurt's bedazzling projects.

Blaine grabbed the less sparkly of the two options, winking at Kurt as he tied the apron strings around his waist and rolled up his sleeves.

Blaine snuck a taste of the dough and then moaned in delight at the gingery goodness. Kurt swatted his hands away before wrapping the dough in wax paper and setting it in the refrigerator to cool.

As they set about preparing the next batch of dough, Blaine asked Kurt about his Christmas.

"It was good but also…I guess, a little weird? It's just been me and Dad doing Christmas by ourselves for so many years. We kind of have our own way of doing things, you know? Dad's skills in the kitchen are a bit…unrefined, let's say, so I do a lot of the cooking. I figured how to prepare everything just the way we like it for Christmas dinner and I think I've gotten pretty competent over the years. But this year my whole routine was out the window. Now Carole wants to cook things and…I don't know, it kind of…" Kurt trailed off as if he was searching for the right words to finish his sentence and then gave up.

Blaine wanted to reach out to take his hand, but they were both pretty messy. Instead, he leaned his head on Kurt's shoulder.

"You don't like being out of-of con-con-control, do you Kurt?"

Kurt snapped his head around to look Blaine right in the eyes.

"How do you do that? How do you always just…see me?" Kurt's voice was full of wonder.

Blaine shrugged, unsure how to answer. Maybe it was just because he was so drawn to Kurt so he was always paying closer attention to him. Maybe it was just some fundamental emotional compatibility. He was reminded of the time Kurt reassured him that he was perceptive about the important things. Maybe I'm actually just perceptive about Kurt things. Same difference.

"So, did I pass the whole 'Meet the Parents' test?" Kurt asked nervously.

"It was never a t-t-t-test, Kurt! You were perfect, like always." Blaine leaned forward and kissed the upturned tip of Kurt's nose.

"Eek, that tickles! No one is ever perfect, so that answer is meaningless even if it is very sweet." Kurt frowned at him.

Blaine sighed. He really didn't want to go into it. Telling Kurt about his father's concerns would only serve to hurt his feelings. But Kurt valued honesty and Blaine wouldn't lie to him if he really wanted to know.

"Come on, Blaine. Please tell me what they thought of me." Kurt's expression was solemn.

"Hey," said Blaine softly, reaching out to touch Kurt's cheek. He looked all sad and vulnerable; Blaine could hardly stand it. "M-m-my mom l-loved you, ssseriously and C-C-Cooper said you were 'awesome.' I th-think he might like you m-more than he —likes me."

Kurt's lips curled into a crooked half-smile. "I'm just worried that your dad doesn't approve of me," Kurt confessed.

"My fa-fa-father barely approves of me, Kurt! He was n-never going to approve of my b-boyfriend, not right away. He just…needs time to g-g-get used to you…to the wh-whole idea of me h-having a —boyfriend, that's all. I'll get him to-to-to-to come around, it's n-not your job to c-convince him."

"So you're not upset that he didn't like me?" Kurt asked, biting his lip.

"I'm certainly not upset with you. You were —polite and ch-charming. I'm di-di-disasppointed and pissed off at him."

"He hated me, didn't he? Look, I can deal with it I just need to know what I'm working with." Kurt looked determined, chin up, and shoulders back. He is far too used to having to fight just to exist.

How do I explain to Kurt that he isn't the problem? He's just pig-headedly overprotective.

"He d-d-doesn't hate you, re-really! That's not wh-what he said. He just—he thinks your —choices are unsafe…for m-m-me. So he, uh, uh, he isn't thrilled that it's you I've ch-chosen to be with. N-Not because he hates you, be-because it sc-sc-sc-scares him. When I explained why I—why I like you so much…he was a-a-actually kind of impressed."

"Really?" Kurt asked, his smile finally reaching his eyes.

"Y-yes! C-Cooper is an idiot b-b-but he's right about one thing. You are a-a-awesome and he'll s-see that in the end. I was s-s-s-so proud to be with you that n-n-night."

Kurt rewarded Blaine with a beaming smile.

"I want you to be. Your mom was really nice and it was cool what Cooper said about people appreciating my talents more when I get out of here. That's kind of the mantra that's gotten me through high school so far. It was really reassuring to hear from someone who has made it out of this place. He didn't have to say that but he could tell that I needed to hear it."

"He d-d-d-drives me nuts but he has his moments," Blaine admitted.

"I'm feeling better now. Thank you for talking with me about it. We should set this batch to chill, while we roll out the gingerbread. The cookie cutters are in the second cupboard on the left there if you don't mind fetching them for me, dear."

—

Dozens and dozens of Christmas cookies and about a dozen Chanukah cookies were now arranged on cooling racks in the kitchen.

"This is the part where we have to protect them from Finn." Kurt warned him. "We have to stay vigilant."

Blaine followed Kurt into the living room. "So how many more innings are left in this game? I want to watch 'Bake Off' for cookie decorating inspiration."

Blaine laughed affectionately. "Football doesn't h-h-have innings, K-Kurt."

Burt chuckled. "Sometimes I don't know how you made it through that game without scoring a touchdown in the wrong end-zone, kiddo. Game's nearly over so come take a seat."

Finn had been lounging on the sofa, his gangly frame occupying all three seats, but he quickly retracted his legs to make space for Kurt and Blaine. Blaine ended up in the middle seat between Kurt and Finn.

"How's Miller throwing t-today?" Blaine asked Finn.

"He's off his game. Burt swears he tweaked something in that last game."

"Yeah, I saw that one. His sh-shoulder didn't seem right after he got sacked."

Burt thumped his hand against the leather of his armchair in agreement. "See, Finn! I told you."

Blaine felt more than saw Kurt's gaze and turned to face him. He was smiling affectionately at Blaine.

"Wh-What?" he asked self-consciously.

"Oh, nothing it's just…it's nice having you here. You fit right in. Even if you are such a boy sometimes."

Blaine poked Kurt in the ribs as payback and he shrieked, jumping off of the couch.

Laughing, Blaine grabbed Kurt's sides with his hands and tickled him again. Kurt whirled around, giggling and red-faced, eyes twinkling with amusement.

Finn offered him a high-five and nodded his approval. Kurt pouted, but his eyes were still twinkling so Blaine was pretty sure he was having fun.

The Football game ended and Kurt triumphantly claimed the remote and pulled up an episode of 'Bake Off' from the DVR.

Burt and Finn were allowed to leave after swearing on the Heisman Trophy that they wouldn't touch Kurt's cookies. Blaine was allowed to resume his spot on the couch next to Kurt after swearing on the Drag Race scepter that there would no more tickling.

Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist and pulled him close. He pressed a kiss onto Kurt's hair and sighed with contentment as Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood described the week's challenge.

I could get used to this.

Author's Notes:

Esperanto's Stuttering Corner: Stuttering, Stammering, and Cluttering
Have you ever wondered what the difference between "stuttering" and "stammering" is? If you have, there is actually a very easy answer. There is no difference; they are the exact same thing. Like so many other things, "lift" vs. "elevator," "cue" vs. "line," this is just another case of the divergence between British and American English. This may not be news to most of you but I have seen some misinformation about this online, so I wanted to clarify these terms.

While we're talking terminology, here's something that you're more likely to have never heard before. I have used the term Fluency Disorder sort of interchangeably with Stuttering thus far, but that's actually not quite accurate. Fluency Disorder is really a category name. There are two different types of fluency disorders: Stuttering and Cluttering. You've probably never heard of Cluttering (I hadn't until I went to graduate school for speech). My understanding of Cluttering is that one of the main features is dropping sounds and syllables from words on conjunction with speaking very quickly.

Kurt's Voice:
Treating and evaluating voice disorders is not a particular area of expertise for me personally, but it is something that SLPs work with. This means I have a base level background in it and did some voice therapy as a student clinician.

Kurt's explanation about speaking out of his normal register straining his voice was actually based on a story I heard on the podcast 'Nancy.' One of the hosts, who is a gay man, decided to see a speech therapist because he realized as an adult that he had been subconsciously lowering his speaking voice since he was a teenager. He did talk about how he feels that his voice gets hoarse a lot and the SLP said it was probably putting additional strain on his vocal cords to alter his register like this.

I'm more familiar with the idea of straining your voice happening from overuse (talking a lot) or abuse (yelling); it seems logical that it could also happen from altering your voice. I've watched interviews with Chris Colfer about his voice and he explained that while he can lower his voice if he tries, it's too much effort. Tobin, the podcast host, had only lowered his voice a tiny bit (you basically couldn't even hear the difference in the recording) so I'm extrapolating that altering the pitch of your speaking voice more dramatically like Kurt did in the episode 'Laryngitis' would lead to even greater strain/you would notice the effect after a shorter period of time. This is based on my background and one anecdote, so, you know...take it with a big heaping grain of salt. I think it's a reasonable hypothesis, though.

Bloggers on the internet who know far more than I do about singing (very little) have analyzed Colfer's range in great detail. I've regurgitated what I found in this chapter (this is some hard-hitting research, folks). I did at some point actually google whether or not it was really Colfer singing at the beginning of 'Give up the Funk' when I was first watching the show and apparently after the episode aired he was getting a lot of people insisting that it was altered. There's a radio interview somewhere where he explained that it was his real voice, unaltered, and he demonstrated singing those lines as well. He just has a very wide range that can go quite high and also quite low. I have no idea how much this was discussed in the fandom at the time (since I wasn't watching the show as it aired) so I have no idea if this is like a widely known fact, but I found it interesting so I thought I would include it.

Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI):
I think people get that TBI is serious but what people don't always seem to realize is that a concussion *is* a mild type of TBI. In Blaine's case, he did end up getting diagnosed with a concussion. Mr. Anderson's worst case scenario (dementia) is something that happens more after multiple concussions.

Other References:

Blaine's line about homosexuality being a binary is a *very* obscure West Wing reference. So obscure I didn't realize I was making until I re-read it for the fourth or fifth time and said to myself, "Is this like a saying or something?" After some googling I finally figured it out. The original line is a retort to someone asking "how pregnant is your ex-wife?" and he says, "As I understand pregnancy, it's a binary state. You either are or you aren't."

The Great British Bake Off/The Great British Baking Show: It's been pointed out to me that it has a different name in the states, which I'm aware of but I'm stuck calling it "Bake Off" because watching British quiz shows (8 out of 10 Cats Does Countdown anyone?) is my guilty pleasure I'd hear it referred to that way so many times that it's what it forever will be called for me. Besides, it's the "original" name! And I buy Kurt being enough of a hipster to care about that.