A/N: Merry Christmas Eve! Can you believe that 2021 will be over in a week? I know we all say it every year, but really…where did this year go?! We have made it to the third and final part: What Will Be. We are back in real time, with the boys, on Christmas Eve…Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.

What Will Be…

"Stop fidgeting! You've got enough confetti for a Pride Day parade in New York City!" Kurt tried to sound stern but knew his smile softened the words anyways.

Blaine just huffed and pushed his mound of shredded napkin to the side of the table, taking a deep breath and carding his fingers through his already messy curls. "Ha. Ha." He deadpanned, "I'm just nervous," he muttered, nudging Kurt's foot under the diner table.

What was supposed to have been 12 weeks, had become 6 weeks of grueling physical therapy, forging unlikely bonds, falling in love with a town and its inhabitants -even the aggravating handy man - only to be told he'd done it. He'd recovered. 6 weeks had become 3 weeks of saying goodbyes, re-evaluating everything he thought he'd wanted, discovering new dreams. 3 weeks had become one night, in a cold, empty apartment. An open refrigerator, a kitchen floor, a phone call. A fire. And that one night had led him back home. To Cassville. To the last 6 months of his life that had completely and totally eclipsed any previous notion Kurt had ever had of happiness.

And now it was Christmas Eve, a night that had a gentle chill in the air, just enough to make your breath into little puffy clouds, and Blaine was silently shredding napkins at their booth, knee nervously bobbing up and down, while they waited for Burt and Carole to show up.

"My parents are going to love you, Blaine, you don't need to worry about that." Kurt soothed, reaching across the table to place a hand over Blaine's, which were twined together on the table top with a white-knuckled grip.

Blaine snorted but opened his hands, toying gently with Kurt's fingers. "Yeah, I hope so." He looked up coyly, "Will you still love me even if they don't?"

Kurt gazed sweetly back at him, "Yeah, probably not."

Blaine barked out a laugh, "Jesus, Hummel. Harsh."

"Yeah, but it got you to smile," Kurt shrugged. "Seriously Blaine, there's nothing to worry about. You and my dad have talked on the phone dozens of times, and you can guarantee that Carole is listening in on those phone calls." Blaine raised an eyebrow at that and Kurt just waved it away, "She's nosy, but in a loveable way."

"Sort of like how you're incredibly particular, but in a loveable way?" Blaine chided.

Kurt just nodded, matter of factly, "I know who I am and I like what I like and I will not apologize for it."

"Okay, yeah, but it's not the end of the world if a knit sweater is accidentally put in the dryer."

"No, it's not, but it would be the end of our relationship." Kurt corrected. "Wait, are you trying to tell me something? Did you put one of my swe-".

"Calm down Hummel, your sweaters are fine. All of them are hanging peacefully in the closet."

Kurt breathed a genuine sigh of relief that somehow seemed funny to Blaine, based on his dopey smile. Kurt would be more annoyed if he weren't just endlessly charmed by how their mismatched edges seemed to perfectly fit.

"Did you threaten his sweaters again?" Jo said, swinging by their table to refill their coffees.

Blaine groaned as Kurt preened, flashing Jo a dazzling smile. "Cliff is a very lucky man to have such a smart, dazzling woman like you."

"Oh, I know," Jo said, "Speaking of sweaters, are you still game to help me fix that sweater I'm trying to knit him for Christmas? Linda's been trying to help but I think I've ruined it beyond all hope."

"I can't guarantee I'll be able to help if Linda can't, but I'm willing to try. I'll swing by sometime this week."

"You're a lifesaver," Jo said with a squeeze to his upper arm before dashing off to the next full table.

Before Kurt could lay into Blaine about how at least someone appreciated a good sweater, the bell above the door jingled, a soft sound that Kurt was surprised to hear over the chatter of the diner during the dinner rush. He saw Blaine's face turn ghost white, eyes glued to a spot behind his shoulder. Kurt turned around.

"Dad!" He hollered, unable to hold in his excitement. Half the diner glanced up at the outburst, eyes travelling to the unlikely father of their resident ballet instructor. Kurt was up in a flash, closing the distance and throwing his arms around his father's broad shoulders.

"Hey there, kiddo," His dad mumbled into his shoulder, voice suspiciously wet.

Carole beamed silently behind Burt, patiently awaiting her turn. Kurt released his dad and swooped Carole up finally, loving the smell of her honey shampoo and fresh-baked something. That, mixed with the motor oil permeating his father's clothing - even in retirement - smelled like home. Like safe nights and times long ago. A fondness crept up in his chest.

Burt cleared his throat and Kurt finally let go of Carole, turning to see Blaine cautiously standing on the perimeter of their reunion.

Kurt stepped back with a broad grin and tugged on Blaine's hand, bringing them shoulder to shoulder. "Dad, Carole, this is Blaine." He said unnecessarily. They had phone calls and skyped and did weekly facetime calls, but southern etiquette must have tainted him and a proper introduction only felt right.

"Sir," Blaine said, taking a small step forward and offering his hand to Burt, "It's very nice to finally meet you."

Burt's grin was broad and easy and he shook Blaine's hand. "Good to finally meet ya," he said. As soon as his hand released, Carole descended, enveloping Blaine in a crushing hug.

"Oh sweetie, it's so good to officially meet you." She stepped back only to hold Blaine at arms length and examine him, head to toe. "Might I say Kurt, you did good." She winked in Kurt's direction, earning a groan from her step son but a blush, all the same.

Burt cleared his throat, only a little awkwardly, and motioned to the table they'd vacated. "Well, shall we? I've been driving forever and I'm starving."

As if summoned, Jo appeared at their table as they settled in, Burt and Carole on one side of the booth and Kurt and Blaine sharing the other. "Welcome! You must be Kurt's parents! It's so good to meet you!" Jo's smile was infectious and a matching one bloomed on both Burt and Carole's faces.

'Burt," he said, extending his hand, "and this is my wife Carole."

"I'm Darla's sister. She owns the ballet school in town." Carole added, shaking Jo's hand as well.

Jo's smile softened some as she waved Carole's unneeded clarification away. "Oh, I know Darla. We all do. Small town and what not; everyone knows everyone."

"I always thought that was an exaggeration when people said it, but it turns out to be pretty accurate." Kurt said, "It's sweet. Also sort of terrifying, but sweet."

Jo just rolled her eyes and set menus down in front of Burt and Carole. "I'll give y'all a minute to look through the menu, but just so you know, the special tonight is chicken fried steak and it's going fast."

Burt closed his menu immediately and held it back over to Jo. "That sounds perfect, I'll have that."

"Dad-" Kurt started, only to be interrupted by a gruff, affectionate sigh.

"Kiddo, I'm on vacation. Cut me some slack. A little fried food never hurt anyone."

"That is completely untrue, but okay. As long as you have some kind of greens tomorrow."

"Deal." Burt said, Jo beaming at the interaction as Carole said she'd just take a tuna melt and handed her menu over as well.

With Jo gone, all eyes swiveled to an unusually quiet Blaine. He sat rigidly next to Kurt, knee bobbing up and down anxiously again. Kurt placed a hand on it under the table, a silent show of comfort.

"Jesus kid, you look like you're facing a firing squad." Burt chuckled. Blaine's eyes just widened. "Look, Kurt likes you, and so far, you've given me no reason not to. I say that's not a bad place to start, don't you?" Burt leaned back, arm across the back of the booth in a relaxed, open pose.

Blaine took in the scene, the calm eyes and gruff hands. The sweet smile dancing in Carole's eyes at every moment and took a slow breath out. "Not a bad place at all." He agreed and Burt nodded. "So, how was the drive down?"

Burt launched into a tale of a days long car ride, every time Carole made him stop to take pictures, the amazing roadside steakhouse he'd found, a quaint bakery that Carole had tried to empty out a suitcase just to fill with their homemade english muffins. The conversation was easy and Kurt could see the tensions slowly fading from Blaine's shoulders, his smile softening and coming more naturally. Blaine asked genuine questions and really listened to their answers, like he did with everyone. And while Kurt wasn't surprised in the least, she could see Carole's approval in the arch of her eyebrow and the glances she threw in Kurt's direction.

When Jo returned with their food, Burt took a bit, grunted in approval and changed the subject over to Kurt, "So how you doing, kiddo? How's the school?"

Kurt couldn't' contain his grin, "The school is great. We're putting the finishing touches on the

Christmas recital as we speak. The kids have worked really hard." He bent to eat a spoonful of his soup, knowing that if he didn't stop now, he'd just keep gushing.

The satisfaction he'd found in his work at the school was unparalleled to anything he'd imagined. It was challenging and could test his last nerve, but in the end, he left every day knowing he'd tried his best and hoping he'd made a difference. It was rewarding in a way he'd never thought it could be. Seeing the kids grow and learn, seeing Lyle working on his stretches diligently, or Anna working on her pirouette over and over, no matter how often she fell, it created a feeling of warmth in his chest. A love for this life he'd been lucky enough to fall into.

"What about you, sweetheart? Have any interesting jobs lately?" Carole asked Blaine.

Blaine nodded as he swallowed his food. "I don't know about interesting but work has been steady. I'm currently working on plans to re-do on of the local's back decks next spring. And we've got counters coming in early January for the kitchen at the house."

"Finally," Kurt crowed, the counterless kitchen was finally getting counters. "Oh my God, Carole, I'll have to show you the sample. It's quartz and it's gorgeous-"

"And durable-" Blaine cut in just to have a hand shoved in his face.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. But is so pretty." Kurt cooed.

"Pretty, but also practical," Blaine urged.

"Oh, like me?"

"Hummel, you are the furthest thing from practical." Blaine levelled Kurt with a steady look that had Burt huffing out a laugh.

"Kiddo, I think this one has got you all figured out." Burt said.

Kurt gasped, feigning irritation as Burt laughed a bit harder and reached across the table to clap Blaine on the shoulder.

They finished their meal quickly after that as the after roadtrip yawns started setting in on the parental side of the booth. Blaine paid their check, after nearly having to challenge Burt to a duel but compromising instead to Burt paying for the next meal.

Kurt and Blaine thanked the offered ride back to Darla's but instead opted for the gentle stroll back. The night was the kind of dark that only existed outside of a city. The stars shown bright and crisp in the chilled night air. It wasn't necessarily what Kurt would call cold, but it definitely wasn't the sticky heat of the summer nights. It was brisk, but a thick jacket was all he needed to combat it. Well, that and Blaine, walking arm and arm out of the town square.

"Your dad is…" Blaine said slowly and then laughed softly, "he's exactly what I imagined him to be."

"Is that good?" Kurt asked.

Blaine nodded, "Yeah, it is. I mean, I'm still not convinced I won't be threatened with a shotgun before the week is out but, yeah. It's good."

Kurt smiled and tightened his hold on Blaine's elbow.

"You're a lot like him," Blaine continued. "Strong, steady, genuine." He smiled, shyly up at Kurt, even after all these months.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to flatter me." Kurt joked, legs lazy and long as they strolled home.

"Is it working?"

Kurt nodded and stopped in his tracks. He turned to face Blaine. "Yes. It is." He leaned in, his heartbeat skipping and stopping. All this time, all the kisses and cuddles and touches. After it all, this man still made him breathless.

Blaine kissed him gently, sweetly. It was slow and unrushed, much like their lives had been since the summer. And somehow, Blaine still smelled of bonfires and summer nights and fresh cut grass. He smelled of lumbar and sweat and summer. He smelled of the night under the stars, in the bed of his truck. He smelled like whispered dreams in a counterless kitchen. He smelled like slow trust and, eventually, love.

"I love you, Kurt," He whispered against his lips and Kurt just had to kiss him again.

"I love you too," He said, his voice coming out breathless and a little shaky. He laughed at himself for feeling so juvenile and Blaine's responding chuckle tickled his lips.

This was heaven. This was Casseville. One in the same.

A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of your support. I hope you enjoyed our little trip back to Cassville as much as I did. Have a Happy Holiday and until next time.