Okay, so currently I've got two multi-chaptered stories in this DailyDrabbles series. One is army!Blaine, the other is mobster!Blaine. Mobster!Blaine will be updated tomorrow- their coffee date :) Army Blaine will be updated the day after tomorrow, and the other storyline of the same verse will be uploaded separately and linked here.

This story, today, is set the day after The First Time (Just like Hot Shower I posted two days ago. Could be sort of a sequel to that one, but not necessarily).

Enjoy!

Scarves

Kurt's body was sore as hell.

That was pretty much all he cared about when he finished cleaning himself and moisturizing before he went to bed. He was about to head downstairs to fetch himself a cup of water- as much as he loved Blaine, his mouth still tasted faintly like come, dammit- when he passed the mirror and caught a glimpse of his bruised, hickey-filled neck. Smiling to himself, he wrapped the same scarf from earlier (the one that still smelled like Blaine) around his neck twice, making sure no skin was visible.

Walking down the stairs had been slow and hurting- it was like he could still sense Blaine in him, and he tried his best to imitate his regular posture. When he came into the kitchen, he was happy to find it empty.

Only seconds later, Burt walked in, humming to himself. "Hi, kiddo!" he said cheerfully, barely glancing at him before turning to the fridge. "How was your day?" he asked, scanning the content of the fridge.

Kurt tried his best to hurry up, answering briefly. "Long, tiring. I'm actually going to bed now," he stated, turning back and almost leaving- but then Burt stopped him.

"Kurt." His voice was suspicious.

"What?" Kurt turned back, eyes too wide, acting as innocently as he could.

Burt narrowed his eyes, gesturing towards Kurt's neck. "What's wrong?"

How could he know?! Was it that obvious?! I was acting perfectly normal! Kurt straightened his posture even further, not letting himself groan in the pain that the movement induced.

"Nothing!" he replied too quickly, high-pitched. "What makes you think that?"

"Bud, you're wearing a scarf. Indoors. With your pajamas."

Crap. "I was…" Kurt's only hope was that it was too dark to see him blush. "Cold. I wanted to have something to warm me, but I didn't want to bring the blanket downstairs."

Burt just stood there, waiting for the truth to come on its own.

"Fine, you know what?!" snapped Kurt a minute later. Burt smiled. "Fine. You're my dad and I have nothing to hide from you. I'm practically an adult and I can do what I want." He pulled the scarf off. "There. I took off my scarf. Happy?"

Burt's face went from white to red to purple. His eyes were opened so wide Kurt thought they might fall on his grease covered shoes. After a long moment, he hissed, "Blaine", but didn't continue.

Kurt was suddenly so angry it hurt his bones. "Don't you even dare, dad, you don't-!"

"Blaine," Burt muttered again. "Are those… Blaine?"

Kurt frowned. "Of course they are. Who else?"

Burt looked like he was thinking very hard, looking fiercely at the floor. His face slowly regained normal color. "Fine, then, I guess," he murmured, more to himself than to Kurt. His gaze shot up. "Were you safe?"

Kurt sighed, mostly with relief. "Yes, dad." When Burt didn't say anything else, he gripped the scarf tighter and said, "Can I go to bed now?"

Burt held a hand up. "Wait. Do you love him, Kurt?"

Kurt was never so sure of something like that moment, when he replied, head raised in pride, "Yes. More than anything, dad. Anything in this world."

Burt breathed deep. "Does he love you?" he asked, softer now.

Kurt smiled. "He does."

He was never more sure of anything.

Very briefly Beta-ed, please forgive any mistakes.