"A town car picked us up!" Meredith booms when her and Anna are shown into the Thai restaurant Blaine has picked. "With a chauffeur!"

"Oh God," Kurt moans, holding his head in his hands, but Blaine laughs and gets to his feet, pulling out the other two chairs.

"Ladies. You both look lovely."

"Thank you for inviting us," Anna says politely. "It's good to finally be able to talk with you for longer than five minutes."

"Blaine's rude, he doesn't speak to people unless he absolutely has to," Kurt informs them, but he's smiling as he says it.

"I am rude, yes, but that's not why I don't speak," Blaine admits, tugging uneasily on his collar. "If you must know, I'm terrified that the people who are so important to you won't like me, and then I can't think of what to say, so I end up saying nothing."

"That's why?" Kurt asks softly, covering his hand. "You're scared?"

"Can we not talk about this?"

"No, let's not, it's boring," Meredith declares. "Let's talk about the fact that you're amazingly rich and are totally paying for dinner."

"I absolutely am," Blaine agrees before Anna or Kurt can kick her. "So order whatever you want."

By the end of the evening, Kurt can tell Blaine has relaxed. He enjoys sparring with Meredith particularly, but he also talks with Anna about Logan, and Kurt knows that means a lot to her. They step outside, to where two cars wait, and Blaine beats the chauffeur to hold the door open for the girls.

"Thank you for coming," he says quietly, and Meredith leans up, kissing his cheek.

"You're adorable. Blunt, arrogant, rude, but really sweet."

"And you make Kurt happy, so that's it now, you're one of us," Anna says with a laugh. They get in the car, and Blaine turns to Kurt for a kiss.

"Will you stay?" Kurt asks, before their lips can touch. "I know my apartment is small, and my bed isn't like a cloud, but I really want you to stay with me tonight."

"Okay."

"Really?" Kurt's face lights up and he claps his hands together. "You will?"

"I said I would, didn't I?" But I'm not fucking you. Not with them in the apartment too. I can't."

"You're so crude. I don't care, anyway. I just want you to hold me, that's all. Just hold me all night long."

Despite the bed being much smaller, and the noise from the street floating up through the open window all night long, Blaine sleeps so soundly that Kurt has to wake him in order that he can leave for work.

"I'm so sorry," Blaine says as he dresses, still entirely confused by sleep. "I haven't been sleeping properly, and then with you here I just... You make everything better, you know that?" He takes Kurt's face in his hands, and kisses him soundly on the lips. "Just your presence. It makes me feel safe."

"Really?"

Blaine pulls back immediately, and buttons his shirt. "So I need to work today too. There's a new art exhibition opening tonight at MOMA. Will you be my date?"

"I am your date, always," Kurt says. He sits on the bed, watching Blaine carefully. "You know it's okay to admit that, right? That I make you feel safe? It's okay to show weakness. Heaven knows I do."

"I know you do."

"Yeah, but you don't always have to be strong for me, that's all. You make me feel safe, and if I do the same in return then I think it's wonderful for us to share that."

"Hmm. Hey, let's go away this weekend. Are you working?"

"Yes, and don't even think about paying Karl off again. I'm working Saturday but then I'm off until Wednesday."

"Then we'll go after your shift."

"What about your work?"

"There's an opening on Monday, but I can miss that."

"Okay." He grins, truly excited at the thought of a mini vacation together. "Where?"

"It's a surprise."

Kurt hates surprises. He still vividly remembers the epic tantrum he had when his dad had organized a surprise fourth birthday party for him. He hates being unprepared, unaware, and taken off guard. Still, he bites his tongue and does as Blaine asks, arriving at work with a small suitcase, and a scowl which stays in place even when his shift ends and Blaine walks in.

"Holy hell, he's in shorts," Karl whispers happily. "Oh dear god that man gets hotter with each passing day."

Kurt's jaw nearly hits the floor when he looks over to see Blaine in tan shorts and a light blue shirt. The collar is open by two buttons, giving a glimpse of his chest hair, and Kurt stares, stares some more, and then finally remembers to look up. Blaine watches him, one eyebrow raised. It's clear he's worried about his appearance, and obvious that he's waiting for Kurt to say something, but all he can think to say is "I can't wait to undress you."

"What? Is it bad? Do I look like your dad?"

"No, I mean... Wow." He grins and, in the middle of the shop, he walks over, drapes his arms around his neck, and kisses his cheek. "I think most people in here are hating me right now, and I am entirely okay with that. You look good enough to eat."

Embarrassed, Blaine laughs and squeezes his arm around his waist. "You can eat me anytime. But not right now, because I'm double parked."

Kurt grabs his bag and follows Blaine outside. He doesn't register at first, when Blaine unlocks a red Ferrari, but then suddenly his eyes grow as big as saucers and he shrieks.

"You're driving!"

"Mmhmm. Come on."

"Is this your car?"

"No, I stole it. Get in."

"You would have a red Ferrari," Kurt babbles as he climbs in the low passenger seat. "Such a boy car."

"Man car, thanks," Blaine corrects. "And yes it is mine. I just don't use it often."

"Where do you keep it?"

"In my garage with the others."

"There are more?!"

"Several."

"When you said you were double parked I assumed you meant Roy was waiting."

"Well you know, I appreciate him, and having him drive me is useful, but I've come to the conclusion that I really like time alone with you, and if you even think we're discussing what that means, you're wrong. Just appreciate the sentiment and say no more about it."

"Sure." Kurt turns to look out of the window, hiding his indulgent grin. "Where are we going?"

"To the airport."

"But you'll have to pay to park this beast."

"Roy will come get it and drive it home."

"But how will he get to the airport?"

"Jesus! He'll get a cab. For the love of God, man. Stop talking! You drive me insane."

"I know I do," Kurt says proudly. "It means more, you know? That you keep me around. Because I know you don't always like company."

"I never do."

"And yet, you like me."

"No I don't." But Blaine reaches out, lacing their fingers together and raising the back of Kurt's hand to his lips.

Of all the places Kurt thought they might be going, home to visit his dad was definitely not on the list. He stares, stunned at the boarding pass in his hand. "You hate my dad."

"I don't hate your dad! I just didn't speak to him because so much was going on, and I was terrified about meeting him. Look at it from my point of view. I'm dating his son. He's lost his wife, his other son, and now I'm dating the one person who is more precious to him than anyone...and I'm old. I'm old, and grumpy, and I don't treat you very well and I..."

"Okay, stop. This is not the Blaine Anderson pity party. You are not old. You're forty three, hardly a senior citizen. You're everything I want you to be and so much more, and if you weren't, I wouldn't be standing here. I am overwhelmed that you'd think to do this for me. That you'd be willing to step right out of your comfort zone. Does dad know?"

"Yes."

"Then let's go. I can't wait to introduce you both properly."

There were possibly never two people more physically different than Blaine Anderson and Burt Hummel, and yet Kurt realizes they also share many personality traits. Burt stands tall and proud, in his worn jeans and usual plaid shirt. A baseball cap covers his head as it always does, and to many he would look intimidating, rough, and like someone who you'd try and avoid. However, underneath his gruff exterior, he has a warm, loving heart and even Blaine is choked up to see him embracing his son and kissing his cheek.

Blaine also stands tall and proud, but Kurt knows his shirt probably cost more than Burt's entire closet of clothes. It is hot and stuffy but Blaine looks immaculate, his hair swept back in perfect waves, his sunglasses hooked into his breast pocket, and his free hand holding firmly onto Kurt's until he breaks free to run to his dad. When he looks over his shoulder to smile at him, he can see just how worried Blaine is, but he quickly masks it, and offers his hand.

"Oh, dad, this is Blaine. Blaine, this is my dad, Burt."

"Nice to meet you properly," Burt says. "And thanks for your very gracious letter."

"Um...welcome. Thanks for letting us come visit."

"Ah, anytime. Come on, the truck's just outside."

Kurt can tell Blaine has never been in a truck his whole life through, but he sits tight, and quiet, for the ninety minute journey out to Deerfield and the small, comforting home of Kurt's childhood.

"Beer, Blainers?"

"It's Blaine and no thank you," Blaine says, looking around the quaint kitchen. "Whiskey, please."

"Whiskey's for after dinner," Burt says, handing him a beer anyway. "Kurt? Granny called. We're going for lunch tomorrow."

"Okay." He leads Blaine into the living room and pulls him over to the couch. "Are you okay?"

"We haven't unpacked, or been shown our room," Blaine says, glancing to where the suitcases still stand by the back door. "When do we do that? I'll need to change before dinner."

"Nah, don't worry about it. Anything goes here. You're doing great, trust me."

"So, Blainers, Kurt tells me you're writing for some fancy art journal now. How's that treating you?"

"It's Blaine," he repeats, "and it's going good, thank you." He sits formally, awkwardly clutching his beer, looking around the room. "You like football?" He asks, noticing a team pennant on the wall.

"Yep. Packers. You?"

"I used to," Blaine says quietly. "I played a lot in High School. I was offered a scholarship."

"You didn't take it?"

"No."

"But you still follow? Who's your team?"

"No I uh...I don't follow it now. Giants were my team but...yeah."

Kurt senses that Blaine is struggling, and he's grateful to his dad for picking up on it too. Burt stands, stretches, and taps Kurt on the head. "Take the bags up, sunshine. Blainers, you can come talk with me while I fix dinner."

"It's Blaine!" he cries exasperatedly. "Why do you insist on calling me Blainers?"

Burt stops in the doorway and grins at him. "I just wanted to wind you up."

"Why would you..?"

"Because I want you to relax with me, that's why, kid. Be yourself. You're part of the family now, son, whether you like it or not."

"Kid? Son?" Blaine hisses at Kurt as soon as Burt's left the room. "I am not his son!"

"He likes you," Kurt says with a smile. "That's all. Giving you a nickname is his way of accepting you. Now go help him with dinner, Blainers. I'll be right down."

Kurt lingers upstairs, wandering around Logan's room and wondering if Blaine is actually making conversation with his dad or still sulking in the living room, but when he arrives downstairs he can hear them in the kitchen together, so he stays in the living room a moment longer.

"So you and Kurt sorted your little spat, then?" Burt asks, and Kurt hears Blaine sigh heavily.

"Yes. I apologized several times."

"Oh I know you did. But I hope he did too."

"He did."

"Good. So you're back on track? Sorta...dating? Or is it more serious than that?"

"Don't hold back, will you?"

"Nope, I won't," Burt says smugly. "Not when it comes to my son's happiness."

"We're happy," Blaine replies evenly. "You have concerns, right? Because he's probably told you I'm moody."

"Nah, that doesn't worry me. Kurt needs to be kept on his toes. I can see you're intelligent, and you enjoy good conversation. He needs someone like you. But I do have concerns, yes. For a start, You're only eight years younger than me, whereas you're twenty years older than him."

"I realize that, but I can assure you that it's not an issue for either of us. And if you really need to know, I am serious about him. Very."

"That's good to know, but I still worry for the future."

"Why don't you let us worry about it, when we get there?"

"I'm trying not to interfere," Burt explains, "But the fact is, I know how he feels for you. I've met kids he's dated, but it's a quick hello and a handshake when I happen to be in New York. This is different. This is Kurt wanting me to meet you, and spend time with you. This is him wanting his Granny to meet you. I know how serious he's taking this, and I don't want him left high and dry when you move onto a younger plaything."

"I wouldn't do that," Blaine says firmly, and Kurt can hear the anger in his voice. "You've only got my word, but Kurt has...well, he's knocked me off my feet, if you really must know, and I can't picture my life without him in it."

"What about kids?" Burt starts, but deciding he's had enough, Kurt walks into the kitchen to save his poor boyfriend from any more interrogation.

From there, the rest of the evening goes relatively smoothly. Kurt knows Blaine isn't entirely relaxed, but he joins in conversation and Burt doesn't press him on any issues. When they are finally alone in Kurt's room, Blaine falls face down on the bed, and stays there.

"I know," Kurt says, sitting next to him and smoothing his hair. "This is awkward for both of you."

"He quizzed me on my motives," Blaine moans into the pillow. "When you were up here."

"Yeah, I heard. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I mean, I know why. I get it. But it's hard for me to explain my feelings to anyone, let alone your dad. I think he was waiting for me to map out the next seven years."

"You don't need to do that. I'm good, okay? I'm the same as you, happy to carry on as we are."

"It's just I've never thought about my future before, with anyone, you know? I didn't think that I'd ever meet anyone I wanted to date, let alone anything else."

"Blaine, it's fine, really."

He lies on top of his back, pressing him into the bed and kissing behind his ear. "I promise you Granny won't be the same. She'll just keep going on about how pretty you are."

"Get out of here."

"She will. And I agree. You know, you look so hot dressed like that. It gets me going."

"I'm not listening. Your dad is down the hall."

"Mmm, I could just take those shorts off right now, and take you..."

"Not a chance."

"Do you ever bottom?"

"Nope. Never."

"You never have?"

"You know me, Kurt. I don't do vulnerable, and I don't trust anyone. For me, doing that involves a whole level of trust and understanding that I've never had with anyone so no, I've never done that."

"Would you let me top, if I wanted to?"

There is a long pause, and then; "Yes. You seem to always get your own way."

Kurt laughs, slides his hands up under Blaine's chest, and holds him tight. "I adore you," he whispers happily. "Just so you know."

Kurt is right, his Granny is so entirely overjoyed that Kurt has finally found a "nice boy" that she spends the whole time patting Blaine's cheek and forcing him to eat cake. She shows him hundreds of photos, and regales him with tales of Kurt and Logan growing up. Blaine turns on the charm, and is attentive and sweet, and if she calls him pretty once, she does so a thousand times.

Kurt is content to look on in amusement, and so is Burt, but the continuous photos all become too much in the end, particularly when Granny shows pictures of her one and only trip to New York, which was just three weeks before Logan died.

Needing to be alone, Kurt takes himself outside, right to the bottom of the yard, where a wooden swing still hangs from the enormous oak tree.

"You want me to push you, or can you do it by yourself?"

Kurt smiles, not turning around, but Blaine comes to kneel in front of him, not caring about the dirt. "Too much, huh?"

"He just died, Blaine," Kurt says softly. "Those pictures, you know, we were all there, at the top of the Rock, with no clue about what was to come. Three weeks after that, I was lying in bed, barely able to breathe from the pain that was tearing through me. My heart was ripped open. He's there, frozen in those photos, and then he just died."

Blaine holds him, letting him cry onto his shoulder for as long as he needs. He soothes, whispers soft words of encouragement into his ear and then, when his tears have subsided, he takes his face in his hands and kisses him lovingly.

"I'm sorry," Kurt says, wiping at his eyes. He gives a sad smile. "I should be over it by now. It was four years ago, for goodness sake."

"So? There's no time limit on grief. Some days are easier than others, some days you might not think of him at all, but others you're overcome with pain. But that's okay. You love him. That doesn't change, just because he's gone."

"We used to play in this yard all the time when we were small. Our summers were spent with Granny since dad was working. Logan's ashes were scattered at the base of this tree. It seemed fitting, you know?"

Blaine pulls him to his feet and into his arms, kissing his forehead. "I'm not him, and I can never have that with you but that thing you said, about me being your best friend? Same. You're mine too and I promise I'll always be around if you need comfort."

"I knew you secretly liked cuddles," Kurt says with a laugh. "Thank you."

They kiss once, twice, and then they fall into a deep kiss, both of them completely lost in the moment, until the loud slamming of the porch door alerts them to Burt's presence.

"Granny has a birthday cake for you," he informs Kurt. "If you'd care to put each other down for a moment."

"It's your birthday?" Blaine asks.

"No. Next month, but I won't see Granny, I guess."

"It's my birthday next month too," Blaine says as they climb onto the porch. "What date?"

"Fifteenth."

"No way! We have the same birthday."

"But twenty freakin' years apart," Burt mutters.

"That's so cool," Kurt says happily. "It's like we're meant to be."

"Yeah," Burt agrees, much to everyone's surprise. "I really think you are."