Thank you to shushyou to have correct that story...
Facing your boyfriend's father was quite something – a rather difficult something, actually; Blaine still didn't feel entirely comfortable around Burt, even after this long in his and Kurt's relationship. It's not that Burt has ever expressed a hatred for Blaine – in fact, he's always acted like he loves him; maybe even treated him like a son. Blaine still found encounters with him awkward, though – and if facing Burt on a normal day was awkward, facing him just after he'd walked in on Blaine ** his son was another thing entirely.
Blaine followed Kurt down the stairs reluctantly. He walked slowly, his head bowed. Kurt's hand squeezed his, but it was far from reassuring to him – he was so terrified that nothing Kurt could do or say would ease his fear. His thoughts were almost entirely preoccupied by Burt – and more specifically, Burt with his shotgun directed at him.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Burt was sitting at the kitchen table waiting, tapping his fingers impatiently in front of him. The tapping was all Blaine could hear in the otherwise silent house, and it did nothing to ease his nerves. He swallowed hard as he sat beside Kurt – hopefully not close enough to irritate Burt, but not too far away, either.
They waited, but nothing came – a few minutes passed in silence, father and son glaring at each other and Blaine looking at the table. Suddenly, Kurt snapped at his father, clearly unable to take it anymore.
"Would you please say something, Dad?" he asked, "Or else we'll just go back to my room."
Burt looked at the two of them once more, opening and closing his mouth in hesitation. "You know, boys, that you shouldn't do things like that. You're really young, you need to take your time. Kurt, you could be hurt – like, seriously hurt, if you've gone... well, all the way. Your first time should be-"
"It wasn't the first time, Dad," Kurt interjected coldly, but in a calm tone.
"-...about love, and caring about each other. Not about- wait," Burt finally seemed to catch up with what Kurt had just said, "What did you say, Kurt?"
His tone was a little harsher than he would have liked, perhaps, but he couldn't help himself – this was his son he was talking about, his son who had probably been hurt and not told him about it, and he couldn't bear the thought of it.
"I said that it wasn't the first time, Dad," Kurt repeated slowly. "It's been a few months, actually, and I..." Kurt bit his lip, and looked at Blaine hesitantly; he hadn't even told Blaine about this, and now he was about to tell his father. "I have some **, to..." – Kurt caught himself as he was about to say "to pleasure myself", or "to play with", knowing that his father wouldn't appreciate the extra information; no matter how much Blaine (who seemed to be struggling to conceal a flash of lust) probably would – "...for practice."
"You have WHAT?" said Burt, incredulous. He seemed to have completely forgotten Blaine's presence at this point, Blaine was relieved to note. "Where the hell did you get that, Kurt?" he shouted, standing up, "You're far too young."
"I'm not, Dad. I'm eighteen now. I'd be willing to bet that you'd already had sex by the time you were my age." Replied Kurt.
"You don't have the right to do... to do that... without my permission, Kurt. Not before you're thirty, at least. Not to mention that being a bottom is completely unsafe, and I won't allow you to do it. If you must have sex, you will be a top, and nothing else. You'll still enjoy it, and it will be a lot less dangerous for your... for you."
Burt then turned his head towards Blaine. "Am I clear, Blaine? In this relationship, you are the one who bottoms. If I find out anything else is happening, you won't have the right to see my son again."
"But, Dad!" Kurt tried, "That isn't how we... we've tried, the other way round, but I prefer... Blaine isn't comfortable with..." he struggled for words. He had never seen his father this angry – it was almost scaring him, and he knew that Blaine must be terrified out of his mind. Kurt reached for Blaine's hand, to comfort him.
"There will be no further discussion of this in my house, Kurt. There's no reason for you to put yourself at risk of being hurt in that way. Am I clear, Kurt? Blaine?" Burt's tone had become darker, now, and threatening – Blaine was trembling with fear, his eyes wide open.
"Y-yes, sir. Kurt is a top, and I'm... I'm a bottom." He replied, nervously – but knowing he had to, for Kurt's sake.
"Perfect," Burt said, turning on his heels and walking out of the kitchen, leaving two speechless boys behind. "And Kurt," he added as he left, "I'm expecting you to bring me your toys by the end of tonight. I'm confiscating them."