A/N: I know I don't usually leave top notes on this story, but I do have to apologize that it's been two weeks since I last posted. Unfortunately, I left last Saturday for a business trip without my personal computer, and I forgot to post before I left. I have been away from my beloved keyboard pretty much since then, so... yeah. Sorry. Read On.

I don't know who was more nervous about dinner that Friday, me or Blaine. I waited outside on the steps, despite the biting cold of late December, so that I could talk to my boyfriend before my father scared him half to death. When the truck Blaine drove out of Columbus pulled up, I stood, waving to my boyfriend, who immediately got out of the car and half-ran over to me.

"Kurt, what are you doing? It's freezing out here!" Blaine objected, pulling me close and rubbing at my back.

"Blaine! Blaine, I'm fine," I insisted, pushing him away a little so that we could actually talk. Blaine kept insistently rubbing my admittedly cold arms, looking ridiculously concerned. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

"I'll be fine providing you don't freeze to death!" Blaine exclaimed, and I rolled my eyes at him.

"I won't. Are you nervous?" I asked, the thought not even having occurred to me until Finn had brought it up.

"A little, but I think I'll survive. Shall we go in?" Blaine asked, and I nodded, giving my boyfriend a quick kiss before the door opened.

"You must be Blaine," my dad said coldly as Blaine dropped my arms like they burned his hands.

"Blaine Anderson, pleased to meet you, sir," Blaine replied, but it wasn't the earnest, slightly-nervous tone I had been expecting. His tone was composed and completely smooth.

"Come inside, both of you," my dad stepped out of the doorway, allowing us both into the house. I reached to take my boyfriend's hand, but he twisted his arm away.

"Hey, sweetie," Carole said, grabbing me and kissing my cold cheek. "Go set the table, I'll fetch your brother." The word 'step-brother' had never crossed Carole's lips. She firmly believed Finn and I to be as strong as blood.

I'm still not entirely sure what happened in the living room while I was setting the table. I've never asked Blaine, and he's never offered the information. I set the table obediently, and Carole was the only one who joined me in the kitchen. It frustrated me that despite the open, tiny amount of distance between the kitchen and the living room, I still couldn't hear them.

When I walked out into the living room to fetch the boys, Dad and Finn were sitting on the couch, staring down a completely serene Blaine. I recognized the expression, it was the way Blaine looked when he had closed himself off. I had seen it far too many times. "If you three are quite done in here," I said casually, "dinner is served." Finn was off the couch in a flash, Dad and Blaine followed him. I pulled Blaine aside by the arm before he could sit down at the table, whispering to him. "Everything all right?"

"Everything's fine," Blaine replied at a normal volume with a not-very-convincing smile, stroking my cheek gently before gesturing me towards the table.

"I should have thought to ask you if you have any allergies, Blaine, but frankly the thought didn't even cross my mind-" Carole began blabbing immediately. I had officially decided: she was the most nervous.

"Mrs. Hummel, it's fine," Blaine said smoothly, but not particularly kindly. "I'm not allergic to anything, and dinner looks delightful." Carole seemed a little shocked by Blaine's aloof act, but smiled at him and started to serve dinner.

"So, Blaine, you're a cheerleader?" Dad asked, but he did not sound impressed with Blaine or his chosen sport.

"Yes, sir, captain of the McKinley High Cheerios." Color Dad unimpressed.

"The Cheerios are really good," Finn volunteered helpfully, but he didn't look particularly charitable towards Blaine either. "Quinn, Santana, and Brittany are Cheerios. Kurt was one. So was Mercedes." It was the most forced conversation that had ever happened at family dinner, and it had barely started.

"Interesting. And you came to McKinley just this year, right?" Carole said.

"Yes, I transferred from Beechcroft High, in Columbus," Blaine offered. "And dinner is delicious, Mrs. Hummel."

"Oh, thank you, sweetie. And please, call me Carole." Dad and Finn exchanged looks.

"Why'd you transfer?" Dad asked, and I stepped on his foot under the table.

"Dad," I hissed, but Blaine appeared to have an answer prepared.

"My father wanted me to have a sense of independence before college, so that the change wouldn't be so dramatic. He decided that going to school away from home would be a good intermediate step, even though the commute is kind of a pain." Blaine's face was completely solemn. It was a good lie, which only worried me more.

"That's interesting," Dad said coolly, but he knew Blaine was lying. Everyone at the table knew Blaine was lying.

"How do you like McKinley?" Carole asked sweetly, but I could tell that even she was getting annoyed with Blaine's... lack of personality.

"It's much better than Beechcroft." At least that was honest. "The kids are much friendlier." Dad and Carole exchanged looks. It was the first time they had ever heard the McKinley kids being described as 'friendly'. I have described them as almost every adjective I can think of that's the opposite of 'friendly'.

"Glad to hear it," Dad said sourly.

I won't bore you with the rest of the conversation during dinner because I can sum it up pretty accurately. It was stilted, awkward, and mostly lies on Blaine's part. Long story short, I was not impressed with my boyfriend.

I didn't walk him out to his car, and his goodbye to me was curt at best. He didn't even hug me. I could understand not kissing me in front of my father, but... whatever. The point is, when I turned around from watching Blaine's truck walk away, I was staring at three extremely disapproving faces. I don't think I've ever seen Carole not like someone before.

"I don't like him," Dad announced, as if it wasn't obvious from his demeanor during dinner or his expression at the moment. "Carole, Finn, may I have a moment with my son?" It wasn't really a question, and Carole shepherded Finn upstairs. "Come sit, kiddo," my dad ordered, sitting on the couch and patting the spot next to him.

"I know you don't like what you saw," I began as I sat down next to my dad, "but I swear that's not what Blaine's usually like, not who he usually is. I don't know what's gotten into him."

"I'm not entirely sure what to believe at this point, buddy. First you told me you don't have a boyfriend, and now you're saying you do. I meet him, dislike him, and now you're saying he's not really an idiot who has an attitude and doesn't deserve you." And this is what I got for lying. Well, I had only told my dad I didn't have a boyfriend once, and that was when I was pretty certain we were broken up. So, it wasn't a lie, but I didn't feel like explaining all of that. Dad would only dislike Blaine more.

"Dad, I know it's hard to believe, but that's not Blaine. I didn't even like the boy I saw at dinner tonight, and he's not my boyfriend. Blaine is the sweetest person... maybe he was just scared?" I offered, but it was weak and I knew it. Why the hell had Blaine acted like that?

Dad appeared to consider that for a moment, before sighing and readjusting his baseball cap. "Yeah, okay. Just remember that you shouldn't let any guy treat you the way he just did. Ever. 'K, kiddo?"

"Yeah, I know, Dad." I rested my head against my dad's shoulder.

"I thought I would like him," Dad admitted. "He seemed fine out in the driveway, if a bit of a worrywart." I laughed at that. Blaine can be that way.

"You were watching that?" Dad nodded. "That's how he usually is," I promised my dad.

I was a little surprised when the next thing Dad said was, "Love you, kiddo." He said it so rarely.

"Love you too, Dad."

"Get to bed."

The next day was Christmas Eve Day, so I didn't get the chance to confront Blaine until Finn and I were sent to bed, after we had opened our one present. Neither of us were actually going to sleep; it sounded like Finn was calling you, so I decided to call Blaine. I was a little bit surprised when he picked up on the first ring, not saying anything.

"What the hell was that?" I demanded, and Blaine's sigh came through as a rush of static.

"Kurt..." Blaine didn't seem inclined to say anything else.

"Seriously, Blaine, what happened? You told me you weren't even really nervous, and then you went and acted like... I don't even know what that was!" I was trying really hard not to yell at him, but I was upset. They were my family, I loved them, and I wanted them to like him.

"Kurt, I know I shouldn't have shut your family out, and I'm sorry. I just... I don't really know what to do with the whole concept of family. I mean, I have one, but they're kind of awful and no one likes each other." I sighed. It was starting to feel like Blaine had an excuse for everything, and I was a little tired of it.

"Why didn't you just try acting normal? They would have loved you if you had been yourself, but now they think you're a total... I don't even know what, and I'm pretty sure Carole and Finn are in favor of me dumping you." That was perhaps a little harsh, judging by the sudden intake of breath on Blaine's end.

"Is that... is that what this is?" Blaine asked, his voice cracking. Okay, maybe that was a lot harsh.

"What- No! No, Blaine, I'm not breaking up with you, okay?" I assured him gently. "I just... What happened? Be honest with me, what happened?"

"It... it felt like the walls were closing in on me. In addition to the stress of meeting a boyfriend's father," he didn't elaborate on whether or not he's had that particular experience before, "was the fact that, for the first time since... this started, everyone in the room knew. I know that sounds crazy, but I was just a little... overwhelmed, I guess, and you know that I shut down when I'm overwhelmed. I've shut you out enough times before."

"True," I said with a chuckle. "Would you be willing to try again, next Friday?"

"I... I'm not sure it would be any better, Kurt," Blaine admitted, sounding a little bashful.

"How about this: dinner, next Friday night, just you, me, and my dad? My step-mother is inclined to love everyone, and Finn trusts me to make good decisions for myself. Well, that's not exactly true, but it's not like he makes better decisions anyway. My dad is the only person who's really skeptical. Do you think you could handle that?"

"Yeah. Of course. I would do anything for you, Kurt," Blaine said after a slight pause and I melted. A lot. I'm not ashamed to admit it.

"I... I don't have anything to say to that," I stuttered, making Blaine laugh.

"Merry Christmas, Kurt," Blaine said, and it sounded like he was smiling. I looked over at the clock next to my bed. 12:01, Christmas morning.

"Merry Christmas, Blaine."

"Any chance of me seeing you later today?" Blaine asked, sounding hopeful.

"I don't think so," I admitted. "Christmas is very much a family thing, and my family's not exactly feeling very inclusive of you right now."

"Understandably," Blaine said with a sigh. "I really am sorry."

"I know. How about tomorrow? We can meet up at the skating rink at like eight, if you're okay with that, but no presents!"

"No presents?" Blaine asked, sounding a bit disappointed.

"We just exchanged presents for our two-month mensi... whatever, I think we should hold off on the Christmas presents." Blaine sighed.

"All right. And it's mensiversary, dummy," he teased. "And what do you mean, if I'm okay with that? You make it sound like I don't want to be seen with you in public." Blaine sounded pretty hurt.

"I didn't think you did," I said, a little coldly. Almost everything in our relationship was resolved... except for the fact that my family hates him and we're in the closet.

"I told you that if this turned into something serious, we would reconsider. You don't qualify this as something serious?" Blaine asked, slightly accusatory. "I mean, we've spent plenty of time together in public since we made that decision, and there's a good chance that some people know already."

"No, I do, I just... I had forgotten about that, to be honest." Laugh it up, Rachel. So I forgot one detail. At least I remembered it for the re-telling. I think.

"Well, we'll talk about it," Blaine said, his tone returned to optimistic and happy. "Meanwhile, I'll see you at the skating rink tomorrow, and we should both get some sleep."

"Deal. Goodnight, Blaine."

"Sweet dreams, beautiful."

Christmas with the family was fun, but uneventful. Nobody mentioned the disaster that had been Blaine's introduction to the Hummel-Hudson clan, probably at Dad's request. I spent most of Christmas day-dreaming about the 26th and thinking over what Blaine had said about us reconsidering. What did that mean?

Blaine was standing outside the skating rink the next day bright and early. We had agreed to meet at eight, so I was rubbing my eyes and drinking my second coffee, and Blaine was bright-eyed and cheery. Worst of all, he was holding a wrapped gift.

"I know, I'm sorry!" he said when he saw my betrayed expression, not sounding particularly repentant."But I had to. Merry Christmas." Blaine leaned forward to give me a quick kiss before handing me the red gift with the white bow. It looked like a present right off a magazine cover.

"I feel bad," I said as I opened the gift. "I didn't get you anything."

"To be fair, I didn't get you anything either," Blaine said mysteriously, and when I looked at him quizzically, he gestured for me to continue opening the gift. Inside the box was a gorgeous, knitted scarf, in different shades of red, that was one hundred percent my style, and nothing I had ever seen before.

"Where did you get this?" I said, holding it up and admiring it. It even looked perfect with the outfit I was wearing right then, and Blaine was clearly having the same thought, as he wrapped it around my neck, using it as leverage to pull me into another, less chaste, kiss. "I shouldn't accept this, you know. You have this habit of spending far too much money on me."

"Who said anything about spending money?" Blaine said. Again with the mystery, and this time I gave him a very pointed look. "I made it, dummy." I gaped at my boyfriend, the apparently-homemade scarf still wrapped around my neck. "You look like a cartoon character," he observed as he waited for me to say something.

"You... oh my God," I said, trying to act annoyed but not able to stop the smile from spreading across my face. "You are..." I couldn't even find words. It was ridiculously sweet, and it made me feel even worse about not having gotten him anything. "Thank you," I decided on, making him laugh.

"You're welcome," he said, giving me a kiss on the cheek. "So, how are you on the ice?" he asked with a wicked grin.

"Oh no," I said, eyes widening. "You don't seriously expect me to go into that death trap, do you?" I asked, pointing at the rink behind Blaine.

"I mean, the building's a little rickety, but..." Blaine said, stepping back to observe the rather shoddy building that housed the Lima Recreational Skating Rink.

"I'm not talking about the building!" I objected. "I can dance, I can sing, I can cheer, I can play football, but under no circumstances can I skate."

"I'll teach you," Blaine insisted, grabbing my hand and dragging me into my doom. "Consider this morning your Christmas gift to me."

"I hate you so much right now," I said as he grabbed us spots in the free skate (he had planned this. That bastard. He didn't even let me pay for my own ticket down the River Styx).

"We'll have fun, come on," he insisted, pulling me over to get skates. Used skates. Gross.

Blaine succeeded in dragging me on the ice by being extremely cute, and I found myself much worse at skating when he was the one in charge of catching me, which he eventually figured out, threatening to drop me if I kept doing that. He didn't seem concerned by the number of people skating around us (none were really our age, but still), and some that were even watching us. He only tensed up once, when we heard the tail end of a derogatory comment, but he managed to ignore it. By the time we finished skating, I had about twenty bruises that were forming on my butt and back, and Blaine probably had just as many from me dragging him down alongside me. It was extremely fun.

I got to see Blaine again the next day, except I had officially forbid hazardous activity of any kind once I had changed into my pajamas that night and discovered I had closer to fifty bruises, so we simply went out to get coffee.

"You can't deny that it was fun," Blaine said as we stood in line. It was the first time he hadn't beaten me to the Lima Bean, so we were waiting in line for our coffees together.

"During, yes. After, it was pretty painful." Blaine snorted. I didn't get the joke then, so I just ignored it.

"Regardless, you had fun." I couldn't argue with that and he knew it. "Medium drip for me and a grande nonfat mocha for my boyfriend," Blaine said absentmindedly to the barista, still staring me down.

"Blaine, you do realize..." I said, looking around the coffee shop, and he rolled his eyes.

"There's no one here, Kurt. This place is too far away from McKinley to actually be a hang out place for anyone but us," Blaine pointed out, and it was true. I had never heard of anyone else visiting our favorite coffee shop. We moved over to wait for our coffees, and Blaine began tapping his fingers on the counter.

"Something on your mind?" I asked him, placing my hand over his to stop him from tapping. The people working at the cafe would think he was rude.

"Do you really think your dad will like me?" Blaine asked earnestly, and I sighed, smiling at my nervous boyfriend.

"Yes. I think he'll be completely enamored with you, considering you are the sweetest boyfriend of all time," I said honestly, and that made Blaine smile.

"Okay, I guess I'll have to believe you. Just out of curiosity, does he own a gun?"

"You don't want me to answer that," I replied as I grabbed out coffees.

Blaine was like that all week, fidgety and distracted, constantly worrying about Friday and meeting my dad, take two. I got to see him almost every day, which was a nice change, despite the fact that I was constantly having to reassure him that my dad wouldn't shoot him or convince me to break up with him.

I didn't wait outside to greet him that Friday, because it was snowing and extremely cold. Dad had agreed to wait in the kitchen so I could talk to Blaine before he had to face my father for the second time. Blaine's truck pulled up ten minutes before he was expected, and I opened the door before Blaine had the chance to knock.

"Good, you're not freezing your butt off this time," Blaine said with a smile, pulling me close and giving me a chaste kiss. "Where's your dad?"

"In the kitchen." There was a slight possibility that Dad could hear us, considering there was no wall between Blaine and I and him, but that wasn't important. Dad wouldn't eavesdrop unless he considered it necessary.

"And you promise all his guns are in the garage?" Blaine asked, only the fourth time he had asked me that question that week.

"I promise." Not that my dad couldn't kill Blaine with his bare hands, but that was beside the point. "You okay?" I asked him softly, and he smiled, stroking my cheek gently and nodding. "No more shutting my family out, all right. They want to like you," I promised him.

"I'll believe that when I see it," Blaine said softly, giving me one more quick kiss before taking my hand and leading me into the living room and kitchen area. He squeezed my hand rather tightly when he saw my father, sitting at the table and looking unimpressed. "Hello, Mr. Hummel," he said, and he sounded nervous this time. "It's nice to see you again."

"Likewise," Dad said coldly. "Kurt, is dinner almost ready?"

"It'll be ready in five minutes." I had planned to be early with the dinner so that I didn't have to leave my boyfriend and father alone, but Blaine was earlier than I expected him to be. I should have warned him.

"Mr. Hummel, sir, I wanted to apologize for the way I acted last Friday," Blaine said apologetically as he sat down across from Dad. "My attitude was completely inexcusable."

Dad sighed, adjusting his baseball cap. "It's all right, kid. If you had made a good first impression, I would have been even more worried." Blaine opened and closed his mouth, at a loss for words. "You look like a fish, kid."

"Dad," I protested, and Dad just chuckled.

"Am I the only one who can hear the silent 'behave' he always puts at the end there?" Dad asked Blaine, who laughed hesitantly, looking at my back to make sure I wasn't offended. "Ah, now you have to deal with the fateful question. Who are you trying to impress more: your boyfriend or your boyfriend's father? Who should you be more afraid of?"

"Me," I said decisively, giving Blaine his food and kissing him on the cheek. "You should definitely be more afraid of me."

"Agreed," Dad said with a chuckle. "How was your Christmas, Anderson?"

"Fine," Blaine said, making me a little nervous that he was shutting my father out again. "My family's not big on holidays, but we had some fun." Blaine sounded uncertain and nervous and I absolutely adored him for it.

"Glad to hear it. You want something to drink?" I was surprised my father had asked, and so was Blaine by the look on his face.

"I can..."

"No, no, sit. Kurt, get Blaine a beer out of the fridge." I stared at my father in shock, but he gestured for me to go to the refrigerator with a hint of a smile. He was testing Blaine.

"Sir, I really don't drink..." Blaine protested as I placed the beer in front of him. Dad shrugged.

"It's there if you want it." I rolled my eyes. How clichéd.

"Dinner's all set," I said, placing a plate at my place and in front of Dad, sitting at the table myself. Blaine reached for my hand again, under the table, and I was more than happy to oblige.

"This looks great, Kurt," Blaine said with an honest smile.

"Agreed," Dad said, glancing over at Blaine, who was still kind of staring at me, completely enamored. "Easy with the goo-goo eyes, kid, your face'll get stuck like that."

"Dad!" I complained again, making him chuckle. "Behave," I said this time, so he couldn't mock me for it.

"How are things at the shop, Mr. Hummel?" Blaine asked, and we both looked at him in surprise. "I assumed Hummel Tires and Lube was yours..." he said awkwardly, looking between the two of us.

"It is, babe." The nickname slipped out before I could stop it. I had never called him that before, except in my head, and Blaine blushed. Dad was smirking, so I stepped on his foot.

"The shop's great, business is always good during the winter because ice makes people idiots." Blaine nodded in understanding. "You know anything about cars?"

"A little," Blaine answered, surprising me. "I fixed up a Chevy with my dad a few summers ago, so I would know enough if I ever had any trouble, but I'm not quite a mechanic." This was the Blaine I liked so much. I was glad my father was finally meeting him.

"You should come by the shop, I could teach you a few things," Dad offered, and if that wasn't a certified seal of approval, I didn't know what was.

"That would be nice, Mr. Hummel," Blaine said, "but I'm usually really busy with Cheerios..."

"Yeah, I know. I remember how little I saw my son when Kurt was on the squad," Dad said, nudging me.

"I'm sure, especially since Coach Sylvester was so obsessed with vocals back then," Blaine said, taking the first bite of his dinner. Dad had eaten about half of his, I was picking at mine, but Blaine hadn't touched his at all. I took this as a sign that his nerves were receding.

"So, how 'bout them Buckeyes?" Dad asked him casually, and I sighed. Football.

"They had a pretty good season, but I think they could do better if they played Miller more as QB. I know he's only a freshman, but the guy's a tank," Blaine commented, and Dad stared at him in shock. "I mean, Bauserman's good, and I guess senior year is his time to shine..." Blaine said uncertainly.

"Blaine, stop rambling. My dad's just surprised that you know anything about football. He expects all gay guys to be as stereotypical as I am," I teased my father.

"You're not a stereotype," Blaine argued, not getting the joke. "I mean, you're a mechanic in your spare time, and you played football." I smiled at my boyfriend. God, he's cute.

"Ahem." Dad didn't even bother to make it sound like a cough, separating us after a few seconds of silence. "If you two are quite done staring at each other..." Blaine blushed again, snapping his eyes back to my father.

"I'm sorry, sir," he said formally.

"Don't apologize, and don't call me sir," Dad ordered. "Call me Burt." It was official. My dad loved my boyfriend.

At this point they got into some deep discussion about the quarterbacks for the Buckeyes (did you know there's more than one?), and I continued to eat my food, smiling to myself as I watched my father and boyfriend get along smashingly. Blaine was very careful not to even brush the beer that was still sitting there, perpetually testing him. By the time we had all finished our food (and my amazingly sweet boyfriend had cleared our places and offered to do the dishes, foiled only by this invention called a dishwasher), Blaine and Dad were acting like old friends.

"I should get going, Mr. Hummel," Blaine said after we had watched some football, still not comfortable using my father's first name. It was football, but it wasn't the Buckeyes. I didn't care either way. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, and I was more than happy to snuggle into Blaine's side as much as he would let me. "My parents might be concerned, I didn't tell them where I was going." I knew the likelihood was that his parents weren't even home, but the longer this dinner stretched out, the more of a chance there was that something could go wrong.

"All right, drive safe, Blaine." Dad didn't berate Blaine about calling him 'Mr. Hummel'. He seemed to be all right with that.

"I'll see you at school on Monday?" Blaine asked as I walked him to the door.

"Bright and early," I confirmed. I was vividly aware of my father watching us, and I had a feeling Blaine was too.

"Do not follow me out into the snow," he insisted, making me laugh.

"All right, all right, I won't," I promised him.

"Goodnight," Blaine said gently, and I was completely surprised when Blaine leaned in to give me a sweet kiss, wrapping his arms around my waist but other than that keeping his hands to himself. I kissed back, a little uncertainly, and he let me go once we both needed some air.

"Goodnight," I returned the sentiment breathily.

"Sweet dreams," he said as he headed out the door, stopping to wave one last time at my father before heading out to his truck.

I didn't turn around to face my dad until I heard Blaine's truck start up and drive away. When I did, my father looked amused, one eyebrow raised. "He's got guts," was all Dad said.

"I wasn't expecting him to do that," I admitted, and my father chuckled.

"Me neither." He sighed, adjusting his baseball cap. "I do like the kid, now that he's acting normal."

"I told you he was wonderful," I said, a little smugly.

"Yeah, yeah, come here," Dad said, standing up and pulling me into a hug when I reached him. "He makes you smile like a love-struck idiot." I chuckled, safe in my dad's warm embrace. "He makes you happier than I've seen you in years."

"He really does," I said, smiling as I thought of how sweet Blaine had been recently.

"He's a good kid," Dad decided. "Makes a lousy first impression though."

"I'll have to agree with you on that one," I said with a laugh, thinking of my first impression of Blaine, before I had really known him.

"All right, enough of this sappy crap," Dad said gruffly, making me laugh. "Go do your homework."

"I've done my homework," I argued, but I headed upstairs anyway. "Out of curiosity, where did you send Carole and Finn?"

"They went out for a mother-son dinner," Dad said with a shrug. "Figured they might want some time to themselves, considering they spent sixteen years just the two of them." It was probably something Carole had said to him. Dad was awesome, but he had trouble with the emotional stuff.

"Fair enough," I said, and then on the spur of the moment, "Love you, Dad."

"Love you too."

A/N: Ta-da! Blaine survived meeting the parents :)

Um... there are no songs in this chapter, and I have no more comments. Awkward.

Reviews are Love.