The house was quiet when Burt walked in; too quiet, considering Blaine's car was parked outside. The unmistakable sound of Kurt's high pitched giggle broke from the far end of the house and Burt sighed as he started down the hall. Kurt knew how he felt about the two of them being alone in his room together, particularly when no one was home.
Steeling himself against whatever he was about to see, Burt toed open the partially closed door, his stern father voice at the ready. Then he started laughing.
The boys were sitting across from each other on the floor, legs spread in mirrored Vs, soles of their feet pressed together. Kurt had his head inclined, mouth open slightly, and Blaine sent a mini-marshmallow sailing in a graceful arc, cheering when Kurt caught it on his tongue.
"Seven!" Blaine yelled, his smile bright when he looked up and caught Burt's eye. "Hey Mr. Hummel. I'm winning."
"Not for long," Kurt argued, carefully aiming his marshmallow and tossing it, snorting when it stuck in Blaine's hair. "Hey, dad," he grinned. "Sorry, I know we're not supposed to be in here, but Finn was watching something awful and—"
"It's fine, kid," Burt waved his hand dismissively. "You're welcome to stay for dinner, Blaine."
"Thanks," Blaine nodded, frowning as Kurt pelted him with a handful of marshmallows. "It's not your turn."