"How could you do this to me?" Blaine whispers. He gets to his feet, along with Kurt, and watches as his family approaches.

"You need to see them," Kurt whispers back. "You need the chance to make this right with your dad."

"Kurt, you don't understand. This will never be right. It never can be."

"Hey Blaine." Cooper gives a nod and a tight smile. "Kurt."

Blaine's mom and dad stand behind, and when Cooper sits, Kurt finally gets a good look at them. Both are elderly, Kurt guesses at early eighties, and both give off an air of wealth, even more than Blaine does. Mrs Anderson has white hair, elegantly pinned back with combs, and diamonds flash at her throat, her wrist, and on her fingers. Her eyes are blue, and cold. Mr Anderson looks like a man on the brink of death. He is stooped over, leaning heavily on two canes, and his skin and the whites of his eyes are yellow. Even so, Kurt can tell Blaine takes after him, for his eyes are deep, dark brown, his hair is now more silver than black, but it is wavy just like his sons. He says nothing while his wife helps him into a chair, but once everyone is seated he looks up.

"Blaine."

"Hi dad, mom."

"This is Kurt," Cooper quickly interrupts. "He's Blaine's friend, the one who called me."

"He's my partner," Blaine says, shooting his brother a dark look. "Boyfriend, lover, better half, whatever you want to call it. He's much more than a friend."

A resounding silence hits the table, as Kurt stares at his hands, knowing he is now under scrutiny from both the parents. Menus are given out, which proves to be some distraction, and after some time, Blaine folds his and looks across the table.

"So, dad, how are you?"

Mr Anderson stares back. "I'm dying. How do you think I am?"

"I know but..."

"You're still galavanting around town, I see? I was warned you had a new plaything."

"Kurt is not a plaything," Blaine growls, and as if to prove a point, he puts his arm around the back of his chair.

"Blaine, do you always have to argue?" his mom asks as if she were talking to a small child. "Your father is very sick."

"Fine," he mutters, and then drums his fingers on the table, at a loss for anything to say.

Kurt waits, but no one utters a word, and no one knows where to look, so he decides to try and make this better himself. "So, Cooper, you said your daughter is in college? What's her major?"

Cooper stiffens, sips his wine slowly, and then realizes Kurt is still waiting for an answer. "Journalism," he says awkwardly.

Blaine lights up. "Oh really? How wonderful. So she can do nothing with her life and become a big failure just like me."

"I read your stuff, Blaine," Cooper admits. "I know you've done well. Lucy reads it too, for that matter."

In an instant, Blaine softens, overcome with emotion. "You do? She does? I'd like to see her sometime. Brandon too, if possible. I mean, I know they don't know me but... I'd really like the chance to see them."

"We'll see."

Kurt feels tears pricking at his eyes to hear the quiet desperation in Blaine's voice. He can't figure out how his family can be so cold, so ignorant of his feelings when he himself can easily see just how desperate Blaine is for their affection.

"Let's order," his mom announces. "Your father can't eat. He has a tube into his stomach now. But I'll have the venison. Donald, did you take your meds?"

"In a minute," he snaps at his wife. He goes back to glaring between Blaine and Kurt, his disgust evident. "If you miss Lucy and Brandon that much, have kids of your own," he tells Blaine. "Tell him, Mara."

"Yes, you should," his mom chimes in. "But you'll need to get moving on that, at your age."

"Kurt and I haven't discussed children," Blaine says brightly. He turns, giving a wicked grin at Kurt and squeezing his hand. "Maybe, in the future. I just want Kurt to be happy, that's all."

"That wasn't what I meant and you know it," Donald snaps.

"Two men can't have children together," Mara adds.

"Oh, haven't you heard? There's these two wonderful processes called adoption and surrogacy. If Kurt would like, one day, to have a baby with me, then we'll go down one of those routes."

His mom turns away in disgust, his dad clenches his fists in anger, and Cooper shakes his head sadly, but Blaine just smiles at Kurt, and gives a wink. "One day?"

Suddenly, Kurt's heart surges with joy. Until that moment, he'd never thought that far ahead in terms of his and Blaine's future but suddenly he can see it all. "Yeah. One day," he whispers, his cheeks pink, and his eyes shining with happiness.

"When Kurt is out of Middle School," Cooper mutters, and Blaine whirls around to confront him.

"He's twenty four, if you must know."

"Really, Blaine?" He raises one eyebrow. "And how old are you, today?"

"Fuck off."

"Is it your birthday today?" his mom asks in surprise. "I didn't know."

"Yes," Blaine says quietly. "Today. Kurt's too."

But there's no further acknowledgement made. Their food arrives, and Kurt knows he's not the only one forcing down every bite. Blaine doesn't even try, just sits looking down at his plate, simmering with anger and upset.

"So uh...Mrs Anderson," Kurt says tentatively. "Blaine tells me you're from Wisconsin? That's where I grew up. Deerfield. It's a small town, you might not have heard of it, but it's really pretty. My dad still lives there."

Kurt waits, and then begins to wonder if he's even spoken out loud at all. "Mrs Anderson?" He tries again, but she just carries on eating, as if nothing were amiss.

"Mom, Kurt is talking to you," Blaine says but again, apart from a brief glance up at her son, she ignores them both.

"Mom, just answer him," Cooper says quietly. "Otherwise Blaine is going to cause a scene."

"You're damn right I am. What is your problem, mother? I get that my lifestyle doesn't come up to your standards. I get that I'm a let down, the black sheep or whatever, but you know what I don't get? It's been seven years since I saw you. Seven years, and now dad is at the end of his life and all you can think to do is ignore my boyfriend to try and make some idiotic point. Why? What does it achieve? You've always told me I need to settle down well now I'm here, telling you I've met someone, and you can't even acknowledge him when he tries to make polite conversation."

Mara fixes her icy stare first on her son, then on Kurt, then back to Blaine once more. "He's just a boy," she says coldly. "A child, Blaine. It's time you stopped messing around, found a wife, and started being respectable."

"That's it." Blaine gets to his feet, throwing his napkin down. His anger flowing freely now, he looks darker and more terrifying than ever, towering over the whole table. "I love Kurt," he says loudly. "I love him with all my heart, and he makes me exceptionally happy. I don't need your disapproval in our lives, I don't need the constant reminder that I'm a letdown, because you know what? I'm not a letdown to Kurt, or to his family, either. You disowned me twenty five fucking years ago and it's taken a long time, but I've finally found my own happiness, and my own family. So you can keep your holier than thou attitude, which stinks anyway, because I don't need any of it. Dad?" He pauses, looking down at him and swallowing hard. "I am so sorry that you're dying. I'm sorry it had to end this way. When you came in tonight I hoped, just for a moment, that we might reconcile and part on good terms. I know that won't ever be the case, but I wish you well. I loved you, please know that," he says, choking on a sob. "I really loved you so much. But I won't sit here and let you all treat Kurt like dirt, just because I've fallen in love with him. And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm taking my boyfriend home. Come along, Kurt."

Kurt scrambles up from his chair and holds Blaine's hand firmly as they walk out of the restaurant. The car is magically waiting, but Blaine doesn't even wait for Roy to open the door, he just climbs and, for the first time ever, he doesn't wait for Kurt to get in first.

Kurt knows Blaine well enough by now to know that now is not the time to speak a word, so he sits tight, and both of them are completely silent. The second the car pulls up, Blaine is storming into his building, angrily tapping his foot for the entire elevator ride. He slams his key into the lock with such force Kurt is surprised it doesn't break, and then he throws the door open hard, slamming it back on its hinges.

Kurt follows him down the hall meekly, assuming, correctly, that he will be heading right to the whiskey. He turns his back, downs a large measure, takes a deep breath, and then releases a yell of frustration and anger that has Kurt cowering against the wall.

"Fuck them!" he screams, hurling his glass at the wall. "Fuck them all!" He swiftly knocks the antique lamp from the top of the drinks cabinet, then swigs from the whiskey bottle, draining it, before that too is smashed against the opposite wall.

"Stop it, Blaine!" Kurt yells. "Stop it now!"

His shout makes Blaine collect himself and he stands among all the broken glass, breathing hard. He groans, running a weary hand over his face and then finally, he looks at Kurt. "I love you," he says. "I really, really love you, but I need your word, Kurt, that you won't ever, EVER interfere in my life again."

"Blaine, I just thought..."

"You thought wrong," he barks. "Stay out of stuff that doesn't concern you." He looks around at the mess. "I'm going to bed."

"Can I stay?"

"Do what you want," he says over his shoulder. "Just keep out of my way."

Kurt picks up every last piece of glass. After searching in several closets, he finds a vacuum cleaner, and makes sure to run it over the carpet thoroughly. When that's done, he sits alone on the couch, and plays the whole evening over and over in his mind.

"I fucked up," he whispers to no one. "I really fucked up."

After a long time spent worrying that he should maybe sleep in a guestroom or even on the couch, eventually Kurt takes himself to bed, figuring that while Blaine is sleeping he can't complain about him being there.

He'd like to curl around him, as he has done a lot recently, but he's pretty sure Blaine would wake and yell at him for that, so he turns this way and that, eventually falling into a dreamless sleep.

He's not sure why he wakes at first, since it's early; the gray light of dawn barely creeping into the room. He lies on his front, his head turned towards the window, Blaine behind him, and then he feels another soft kiss to his bare shoulder, and smiles.

"Hmm."

"I owe you such a massive apology," Blaine says, his voice rough. "My reaction was way out of line last night. I was so worked up, and I let it get the better of me. I'm not making excuses, I just want you to know how sorry I am."

"S'okay," Kurt murmurs as another soft kiss comes. He turns his head to look at him. "I messed up. I shouldn't have tried to make it right. I didn't know they were like that. As...blatant, I guess, in their hatred."

"Actually, I think it's sweet that you tried. It shows how much you care. I think though, for my own sanity, I have to leave it there."

"I agree. I'm sad for you, but I don't think they're ever going to come around, do you?"

"No."

Kurt stares deep into his dark eyes, and gives a sad smile. "You've still got me."

"I have." Blaine smiles brightly, and lies on top of him, pressing his bare chest against his back. "I love you, Kurt."

"And I love you too, you moody, tempestuous bastard. A lot."

"You do?"

"Oh come on, you know I do!" Kurt protests. "I've put up with you for the last six months."

"I thought you were just after my money."

"Yeah, of course, but I also really, really love you," he says, grinning.

Blaine presses even closer, kissing behind his ear. "Move in with me."

Kurt turns underneath him with such speed that Blaine rolls off and onto the floor, bashing his elbow on the nightstand. "Ouch!"

"What did you just say?"

"Ouch!" he cries from the floor. "You just injured me!"

"Before that." He watches carefully as Blaine climbs back on the bed. "What did you say?"

"Move in with me... Please," he adds with a smile. "I really like having you here, and I hate it when you're not. I can't see a future without you, being a brat, right there by my side. I don't even care what form that future takes; where we live, what we do, have kids, pets...whatever, I just know that I love you, and I want you with me for the rest of my life."

Stunned, Kurt opens his mouth, closes it again, blinks, and then says "But I don't know how your house works."

"What?"

"The magic."

"What are you talking about?"

"Any of it! The music that plays through the walls. The curtains that close by themselves, the lights that decide when they need to work, the shower that hates me but loves you... I don't even know when the housekeepers arrive, or what they do. And how the hell does Roy always know when to show up and where to go? I don't understand!"

"Well I can show you all that," Blaine says with a shrug. "The music plays through speakers, though. Not the walls."

"Oh."

"So...if I train the shower to behave, and I teach you all Roy's secrets, will you live with me? You can have your own dressing room," he teases.

"I want to," Kurt starts. "But the girls... Our lease isn't up until September."

"I was thinking about that."

"Oh God."

"No, listen. I have an apartment downtown. Just a two bedroom place, but the tenant moves out next month. Do you think the girls would want it? I own it, so they'd only have to pay the service charge. I can't take rent from them, it'd be weird."

"But our lease..."

"I'll take care of that."

"One more thing."

"Oh for... Go on," he huffs.

"You're used to a certain lifestyle, and that's fine, but I do like to do stuff around the house, like cooking. Cleaning not so much, but I'd like to make my own breakfast, and just feel like I live here, you know? Pictures on the walls, not being afraid to put my feet up on the furniture...all that sort of stuff."

"I get that. I think I want that too. I just didn't want it on my own, that's all."

Kurt looks down at the bed sheets and nods slowly. He looks up again, his eyes filled with tears and making Blaine swim in front of him. "You really wanna live with me?"

"Yes."

"I never thought..." Breaking off, he takes a moment to compose himself. "I never thought I'd find anyone to love me," he gets out. "I thought I'd got lucky with my family, and that was it, you know? I figured I'd date, be relatively happy and then you arrived, with your smug grin, and your arrogant attitude, and I just fell for you so hard. I don't know why you'd want me around all the time."

"Because you're annoying, whiny, you talk all the goddamn time, and you make me appreciate every last thing. I feel like one of those characters in that dumb movie we watched the other week. You know when she said to him it's like she could appreciate every cloud in the sky, every blade of grass? You make me see the best in things. You make me want to be a better person... you make me love. I didn't realize how much I was missing that until you irritated me so much that I asked you out. And now... well, now I find myself quite unable to live without you."

"Blaine?"

"Ah shit, you're gonna say no, aren't you?"

"I'm going to say I've been dreaming of this for so long... and yes, I'd love to live with you, thank you."

Blaine instantly tackles him backward onto the pillows, showering him with kisses and making him scream with laughter. When he is able, Kurt takes his face in his hands, finds his lips, and pulls him into a long kiss. "I love you, Blaine. Always"

They kiss again, and Blaine rolls onto his back, pulling Kurt on top of him. He's not ashamed by his tears of emotion, smiling when Kurt gently kisses them away, then runs his hands over his back and down to the top of his backside. "Hot."

"Yours," Kurt says darkly.

"Ugh. Don't say that, you know it gets me going."

"And that's a problem because?"

"Housekeepers. They start at six thirty."

"Bite a pillow," Kurt teases, pulling his thigh up. "Bite me."

"Oh my fucking God."

"You want me, I can tell," Kurt whispers, grinding against him. He can feel his growing hardness, and Blaine groans in pleasure.

"You're a bad boy, Kurt. A bad boy."

"Hey, come on, both of us have just made the biggest commitment of our lives. We need to celebrate."

"We do," Blaine agrees, and he opens his legs wide beneath him. "Kurt, I want you to take me."

Their lovemaking takes all morning. Both of them are a strange mix of nervous, giddy excitement and as a result, they keep stopping to tease one another, and share soft smiles. When at last Kurt enters him, Blaine rises off the bed, digging his fingers into his back and giving a growl of satisfaction.

"Housekeepers," Kurt says with a laugh.

"Don't care. Damn...I love you."

The faster and harder Kurt goes, the louder Blaine becomes, until Kurt flips him over and sternly instructs him to bury his face in the pillow. He can't though, too overwhelmed with the strange yet entirely pleasurable sensation coursing through him.

"Take me harder," he begs loudly. Gripping the headboard, he pushes back to meet each of his thrusts. "Fuck me, Kurt. Go on!"

"I am!" Kurt's fingers dig hard into his hips, leaving bruises in their wake. "Jesus, Blaine, I'm gonna come so damn hard."

"I want that," Blaine decides. "Now."

They hit their orgasm together, both of them yelling their satisfaction before collapsing in a sweaty, sticky mess. They stay that way for a long time, drifting off to a contented sleep. When they wake, the sun is high in the sky and the room is flooded with warmth. Blaine stretches slowly, kisses Kurt lovingly, and, pulling on some shorts, walks from the room.

He's gone an awful long time, and Kurt is just contemplating going to find him, but then he returns, carrying a tray full of food. "So some of this was already set out, but Carla showed me how to make eggs and toast by myself."

"What are you, nine?" Kurt slides up against the pillows, smiling at the breakfast which looks surprisingly good. "I'm so hungry."

"I have a gift too," Blaine tells him, and he drops a key into his hand. "I love you, roomie. Welcome to your new home."