Fic: Love Belongs to All in Deed and Name, 5/?
Title: Love Belongs to All in Deed and Name, 5/?
Author: knittycat99
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: R for language
Spoilers: through 3.05
Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from anything Glee
Summary: fights, breakfast, naps, and a phone call
Author's Note: The first of two updates tonight
Word Count: 2,814
“Blaine?” Blaine turned from where he was standing, staring out into the darkness from his bedrooom window, to see his father in his doorway.
“Dad.”
“You should be asleep. You have school in the morning.” Blaine rubbed his eyes and peered at his clock, but he couldn’t make the numbers make sense.
“What time is it?”
“Late. Coming up on 2:30.” Blaine could hear the disapproval in his father’s voice, cool and far removed from concern over why Blaine was even still away at 2:30 in the morning.
“Mm. Sorry,” he mumbled, and closed the curtain against the bare-limbed tree outside of his window. He crossed to his bed and sat down on the edge before peering at his father. “Do you even care about what might be keeping me awake?”
His father blinked and pulled back a little, closer to the hallway than to Blaine. “Are- are you okay?”
“I want you to ask because you’re interested, not because you feel like you should.” Blaine didn’t mean to sound bitter, but he hadn’t intended a lot of things about his interactions with others since he’d let go to Kurt on Friday night.
“Is it- um. Your friend?”
“God, Dad,” Blaine sighed, shifting so that his legs were tucked under him. “His name is Kurt, and he’s my boyfriend, and I know how you feel about that, so it’s probably better that we don’t talk about it at all. Because yes, it’s about him. But it’s also about me, and the way he makes me feel. Like I matter, Dad. Like I’m special, just by being myself.”
“Blaine.” His father ran a hand over his face, and Blaine really looked at him, at his rumpled suit and half-undone tie, and the trace of something more than fatigue in his face. Sorrow, Blaine thought, and chased the idea through neon-lit hospital corridors and and into operating rooms. “You matter. Why would you even-”
“Jesus. Do you really want to do this now?” Blaine was, suddenly, wide awake. “Because I can totally do this now, if you’re sure you want to hear what I have to say.”
Blaine’s father waved his hand in a go-on gesture, and Blaine took a moment to gather himself. “Why would I think that I don’t matter? Well. What else am I supposed to think, Dad? Nothing is ever good enough for you. I know I’m a disappointment, Blaine has trouble controlling his impulsive behavior, Blaine is sometimes disruptive in class, Blaine is a good student and natural leader, but sometimes struggles socially because of his inappropriate actions. You think I haven’t been reading what teachers have been writing about me since I was in Kindergarten? You think I haven’t listened to you, every report card and parent’s night, you have to try harder, Blaine?”
He stood, threw his arms out to his sides. “You think I haven’t tried harder all this time? What do you think I’ve been doing my whole live besides trying harder to please you? Nothing. I’ve been doing nothing but letting you take me away from myself. And it’s never going enough for you. But you know what? It’s doesn’t matter anymore. Because all the things you can’t stand to look at in me are the things that Kurt loves. They’re the things that make me interesting and more real than you’ve ever been.”
Blaine tugged at his hair in an effort to pluck words from the soup in his brain. He cocked his head and looked his father square in his eyes. “I’m done with trying to be perfect for you, Dad. I can’t do it anymore, because it hurts too much.”
“If that boy is keeping you up nights, he can’t be good for you.” It was a half-hearted argument at best, Blaine could hear the defeat in his father’s words. Whether it was from fatigue or an actual moment of true understanding, Blaine wasn’t sure, and it didn’t matter to him either way, anyway.
“He’s keeping me up nights because loving him is terrifying and exhilarating, and I can’t-” Blaine blushed, hot, and bit back the rest of his sentence because his dad definitely didn’t want to know any of that.
“You can’t what, Blaine?” His father used what Blaine thought of as his bossing the surgical interns voice.
Total honesty, he thought. It’s best to get it all on the table. “I can’t do anything but be in the moment with him when he touches me, and it’s the most real thing in the world. And I love him, and it’s entirely possible that he’s the boy who is going to become the man I’m going to marry.” Blaine smiled, and thought about Kurt in his bed, in his arms, about the way he felt, breathless and grounded, when Kurt was inside of him. “That idea is scary as hell, because I wasn’t supposed to meet someone like Kurt. Not here, and not at 16.”
He wasn’t expecting a flicker of something light and bright and fond to cross his father’s features, or the way his father touched a finger to his wedding ring. “You can’t control those things,” his father said finally, voice soft in a whisper as he stepped into the room and pulled Blaine close in a hug.
Blaine stiffened, because his father hadn’t hugged him in years. “I think this is the most honest you’ve ever been with me,” his father said into his ear.
Blaine twisted away, wanting to feel something but still simmering with mild anger because his father was never going to get it. “I’ve been screaming at you for years. This might be the first time you’ve ever heard me.”
He made a show of pulling his blankets down. “Goodnight, Dad.”
Blaine watched his father back into the hall. “Goodnight, Blaine.”
Blaine waited until his footsteps had receeded up the hall to the master bedroom before he turned his light off and rolled into the pillow he couldn’t bear to change the case on, because it smelled like Kurt. He breathed, focused and steady, until his brain and body settled, but he didn’t fall asleep until close to dawn.
**
Kurt balanced his scone and Tina’s breakfast sandwich, and their two drinks, and picked his way through the pre-work, pre-school crowd at the Lima Bean to the small table way in the back that Tina had selected. He felt bleary-eyed and a little on edge, because even after his talk with Carole he hadn’t fallen asleep until close to 2 am, and while he really wanted this time with Tina, the last thing he wanted was the school day that was going to follow.
“So,” Tina said, stripping her fingerless gloves off her hands and stuffing them into her coat pockets, “you look like you had a rough night.”
“Perceptive,” Kurt quirked an eyebrow at her and smiled. It felt tense on his face, and he tried to relax.
“Are you sure you and Blaine are doing okay?” Tina busied herself with her sandwich, and wouldn’t look at Kurt. “I kind of freaked out a little after our first time. Not because it was bad or anything, because it wasn’t. It was just a lot, you know?”
Kurt nodded, picking at his scone. “It’s been kind of intense, for both of us. In a completely amazing way, really.”
Tina smiled and rested a hand on his wrist. “”You know, don’t you?”
“Know what?”
“That it’s the real thing. With Blaine.” At Kurt’s sharp intake of breath, Tina just laughed. “It’s okay. It’s like that for Mike and I, too. We don’t talk about it a lot, because it’s kind of scary knowing that when we’re so young. But it’s there. And I’ve seen you and Blaine together. You have it, too.”
“Yeah,” Kurt breathed. “I told Carole last night, but I haven’t said a word to Blaine.”
“Trust me,” Tina said around a sip of coffee. “He already knows.”
**
Blaine was sitting on the wall by the courtyard Tuesday morning, waiting on Tina and Kurt and trying to work ahead in his English reading, cursing his contact lenses and wishing he’d given in to the lure of his glasses with every blink when his phone buzzed in his pocket.
Had a bad night. Skip with me?
Blaine typed his response quickly. Yes. Bad night, too.
He stuffed his A Tale of Two Cities into his bag and wrapped his scarf around his neck, and was halfway to his car when his phone buzzed again.
Carole home. Your house?
Blaine texted as he walked, itching to at least get off campus before the first bell. Yes. C U there, 15 mins.
Kurt was already there when he pulled up, leaning against the rear bumper and looking like he hadn’t slept a minute. Blaine wanted to wrap him up and make him talk about it, but the air was cool and the wind was on the edge of biting, so he just led Kurt into the house. He barely had the door closed when Kurt was on him, in his arms, clinging. Nothing else, just pressing himself against Blaine, wool and cashmere and the sharp tang of his aftershave, and Blaine was clinging back just as hard.
“Don’t let me go,” Kurt said into Blaine’s coat.
“Never,” Blaine gasped, suddenly overly hot and feeling closed in with his coat and scarf and backpack still on his shoulder. He kissed gently on Kurt’s cheeks, fluttering over his closed eyelids and the tip of his nose before pulling away.
“Let me- we should-” Blaine dropped his backpack with a thunk before shedding his coat and scarf and letting them fall on his backpack in a pile. “What’s going on?” he asked while Kurt did the same with his coat.
“Like I said. Long night. I didn’t sleep much. I was, um.” Kurt ran an awkward hand through his hair. “I was worried.”
“About?”
“You. Myself. Us.” Kurt rubbed his hand over his face and looked back to Blaine.
“What about us?” Blaine felt his stomach flip-flop in sudden panic.
“Nothing bad. God, sorry. Nothing bad, baby. I promise.” Blaine reached for Kurt’s hand, and he was surprised to find it cool and slightly damp.
“C’mere,” he said and pulled Kurt over to the couch with him. He leaned against the arm and settled Kurt between his legs, pulled the fleece throw from the back over the both of them, and wrapped Kurt in his arms. “What’s going on? And why did you want to skip today? You never skip.”
“It was just too real. School. All those people. I just needed you.” Kurt snuggled into Blaine’s arms and sighed happily. “Why did you agree to skip? You never skip either.”
“I had another fight with my dad last night.” Blaine let his head fall back against the arm of the couch, and tried not to focus on the gentle sweep of Kurt’s thumb across the back of his hand.
“About me, again?”
“No. Well. Kind of. But mostly about me.” Blaine laughed harshly. “I told him everything, all the ways he hurts me and all the ways you heal me, and he said he thought I’d never been so honest.”
“You’ve been nothing but honest with your father. What did he think your coming out was?” Kurt’s voice was tinged with frustration, but Blaine knew it had nothing to do with him.
“I don’t know. But I told him he just hadn’t heard me before. I doubt it’s going to change anything, but it felt good to put everything out there.”
“Yeah.” Kurt’s thumb stilled, and Blaine felt him relax into the cocoon of the throw around them. “Is it okay if we take a nap?”
“I think I’d like that,” Blaine said, blinking his gritty eyes and yawning. He had so many things he still wanted to say to Kurt, but none of that mattered in that moment. All he cared about was being safe and warm and home with Kurt.
**
Kurt’s neck was tight and his left arm was asleep, and he was pretty sure that Blaine’s elbow was poking into his ear, and he couldn’t quite figure out what had jarred him awake until he felt his phone buzzing and ringing out “Little Pink Houses” in jeans pocket.
He scrambled to pull it out, trying not to wake Blaine, and he knew he sounded breathless when he answered.
“Dad.”
“Kurt.” His dad sounded short, annoyed. “Why the hell aren’t you at school?”
“I take it someone in the office was paying attention for a change.” He let his voice drip with contempt.
“I’ll ask you again, kid. Why the hell aren’t you at school?” Kurt could hear the noise of the garage in the background.
“Blaine needed me. He had another fight with his dad last night. And I didn’t have a spectacular night myself. Tired.” He yawned for emphasis, and tucked his phone against his shoulder so he could sit up and stretch.
“Dammit, Kurt. You- you could have asked. Told me, and I would have excused you, I hope you know that.” Kurt could almost hear his dad fiddling with his ballcap. “You never skip. Even the worst times, you’ve always gone to school. I just- you scared me. When the office called, I thought-”
“Dad! God, Dad, I didn’t think.” And he hadn’t. The bad days were so far from his thoughts these days that he never paused to wonder what it would be like for his dad to get a call asking after him, from the place that had been supposed to keep him safe and had failed at every turn. “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I just. I needed to rest. And to just be here, with Blaine. Tell me you understand.”
“Yeah, kid. I do.” His dad sighed. “Now. What’s going on with that boyfriend of yours? Do I need to have a talk with his dad, because this has been going on since before the two of you even got together, and it needs to stop. For Blaine’s sake.”
“I don’t know, Dad. I don’t think it would hurt, but I also don’t know what it’s like to live here. I don’t want to make things worse.” He got up and padded into the kitchen, pulled down two mugs and set the tea kettle on the stove. “Blaine won’t say so, but I think some of the conflict is over me.”
His dad barked a short laugh. “I suspect that it wouldn’t matter, Kurt. I don’t think Blaine’s father would be happy with any boy.”
“Yeah, you might be right about that.” Kurt dropped a chai bag and two spoonfuls of sugar into each mug, and leaned back against the counter to wait for the water. “I guess, if you want, you could call. Who knows. Maybe you can help.”
“I’d like to. Help, if I can. He’s a good kid. The two of you are good for each other. But he and I might have to have words if I catch you two skipping again. Ask, next time.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“You two make sure to come home for dinner tonight.” Kurt heard tools clanging, and the faint sound of raised voices. “Gotta go, kid.”
“Bye, Dad,” he said, but the call was already dead.
“How much trouble are you in?” Blaine’s voice was rough with sleep, and he was leaning against the door frame rubbing at his hair.
“None that I can tell. My dad just freaked when the office called.”
“Shit.” Blaine’s face went pale. “I figured nobody would notice. My dad-”
“Don’t worry yet. And about your dad.” Kurt pulled the kettle off the stove and carefully filled the mugs halfway. “I think. Um. I think my dad wants to talk to him.”
Blaine shook his head and dropped into a kitchen chair. “No. He doesn’t like people in our business, especially about things like me.”
Kurt knelt down in front of Blaine, a hand on each of his knees. “You’re not a thing, Blaine. You’re his son, and he shouldn’t be able to treat you like you don’t exist.” Kurt felt his stomach twist. He hated the way Blaine was after one of these fights, like all the life was just gone from him. “I think my dad just wants to feel him out. He’s pretty good with people. He won’t make it worse.”
“Somehow I doubt that.” Blaine’s words were flat, dejected.
“I have to trust him, Blaine. He’s my father. And he loves us both.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he told us to come home for dinner tonight.” Kurt squeezed Blaine’s hand and smiled. “It’ll be okay. Trust me.”
“I do.” Blaine squeezed back, and his smile was strained. But it was a smile. It was a start.
Author: knittycat99
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: R for language
Spoilers: through 3.05
Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from anything Glee
Summary: fights, breakfast, naps, and a phone call
Author's Note: The first of two updates tonight
Word Count: 2,814
“Blaine?” Blaine turned from where he was standing, staring out into the darkness from his bedrooom window, to see his father in his doorway.
“Dad.”
“You should be asleep. You have school in the morning.” Blaine rubbed his eyes and peered at his clock, but he couldn’t make the numbers make sense.
“What time is it?”
“Late. Coming up on 2:30.” Blaine could hear the disapproval in his father’s voice, cool and far removed from concern over why Blaine was even still away at 2:30 in the morning.
“Mm. Sorry,” he mumbled, and closed the curtain against the bare-limbed tree outside of his window. He crossed to his bed and sat down on the edge before peering at his father. “Do you even care about what might be keeping me awake?”
His father blinked and pulled back a little, closer to the hallway than to Blaine. “Are- are you okay?”
“I want you to ask because you’re interested, not because you feel like you should.” Blaine didn’t mean to sound bitter, but he hadn’t intended a lot of things about his interactions with others since he’d let go to Kurt on Friday night.
“Is it- um. Your friend?”
“God, Dad,” Blaine sighed, shifting so that his legs were tucked under him. “His name is Kurt, and he’s my boyfriend, and I know how you feel about that, so it’s probably better that we don’t talk about it at all. Because yes, it’s about him. But it’s also about me, and the way he makes me feel. Like I matter, Dad. Like I’m special, just by being myself.”
“Blaine.” His father ran a hand over his face, and Blaine really looked at him, at his rumpled suit and half-undone tie, and the trace of something more than fatigue in his face. Sorrow, Blaine thought, and chased the idea through neon-lit hospital corridors and and into operating rooms. “You matter. Why would you even-”
“Jesus. Do you really want to do this now?” Blaine was, suddenly, wide awake. “Because I can totally do this now, if you’re sure you want to hear what I have to say.”
Blaine’s father waved his hand in a go-on gesture, and Blaine took a moment to gather himself. “Why would I think that I don’t matter? Well. What else am I supposed to think, Dad? Nothing is ever good enough for you. I know I’m a disappointment, Blaine has trouble controlling his impulsive behavior, Blaine is sometimes disruptive in class, Blaine is a good student and natural leader, but sometimes struggles socially because of his inappropriate actions. You think I haven’t been reading what teachers have been writing about me since I was in Kindergarten? You think I haven’t listened to you, every report card and parent’s night, you have to try harder, Blaine?”
He stood, threw his arms out to his sides. “You think I haven’t tried harder all this time? What do you think I’ve been doing my whole live besides trying harder to please you? Nothing. I’ve been doing nothing but letting you take me away from myself. And it’s never going enough for you. But you know what? It’s doesn’t matter anymore. Because all the things you can’t stand to look at in me are the things that Kurt loves. They’re the things that make me interesting and more real than you’ve ever been.”
Blaine tugged at his hair in an effort to pluck words from the soup in his brain. He cocked his head and looked his father square in his eyes. “I’m done with trying to be perfect for you, Dad. I can’t do it anymore, because it hurts too much.”
“If that boy is keeping you up nights, he can’t be good for you.” It was a half-hearted argument at best, Blaine could hear the defeat in his father’s words. Whether it was from fatigue or an actual moment of true understanding, Blaine wasn’t sure, and it didn’t matter to him either way, anyway.
“He’s keeping me up nights because loving him is terrifying and exhilarating, and I can’t-” Blaine blushed, hot, and bit back the rest of his sentence because his dad definitely didn’t want to know any of that.
“You can’t what, Blaine?” His father used what Blaine thought of as his bossing the surgical interns voice.
Total honesty, he thought. It’s best to get it all on the table. “I can’t do anything but be in the moment with him when he touches me, and it’s the most real thing in the world. And I love him, and it’s entirely possible that he’s the boy who is going to become the man I’m going to marry.” Blaine smiled, and thought about Kurt in his bed, in his arms, about the way he felt, breathless and grounded, when Kurt was inside of him. “That idea is scary as hell, because I wasn’t supposed to meet someone like Kurt. Not here, and not at 16.”
He wasn’t expecting a flicker of something light and bright and fond to cross his father’s features, or the way his father touched a finger to his wedding ring. “You can’t control those things,” his father said finally, voice soft in a whisper as he stepped into the room and pulled Blaine close in a hug.
Blaine stiffened, because his father hadn’t hugged him in years. “I think this is the most honest you’ve ever been with me,” his father said into his ear.
Blaine twisted away, wanting to feel something but still simmering with mild anger because his father was never going to get it. “I’ve been screaming at you for years. This might be the first time you’ve ever heard me.”
He made a show of pulling his blankets down. “Goodnight, Dad.”
Blaine watched his father back into the hall. “Goodnight, Blaine.”
Blaine waited until his footsteps had receeded up the hall to the master bedroom before he turned his light off and rolled into the pillow he couldn’t bear to change the case on, because it smelled like Kurt. He breathed, focused and steady, until his brain and body settled, but he didn’t fall asleep until close to dawn.
**
Kurt balanced his scone and Tina’s breakfast sandwich, and their two drinks, and picked his way through the pre-work, pre-school crowd at the Lima Bean to the small table way in the back that Tina had selected. He felt bleary-eyed and a little on edge, because even after his talk with Carole he hadn’t fallen asleep until close to 2 am, and while he really wanted this time with Tina, the last thing he wanted was the school day that was going to follow.
“So,” Tina said, stripping her fingerless gloves off her hands and stuffing them into her coat pockets, “you look like you had a rough night.”
“Perceptive,” Kurt quirked an eyebrow at her and smiled. It felt tense on his face, and he tried to relax.
“Are you sure you and Blaine are doing okay?” Tina busied herself with her sandwich, and wouldn’t look at Kurt. “I kind of freaked out a little after our first time. Not because it was bad or anything, because it wasn’t. It was just a lot, you know?”
Kurt nodded, picking at his scone. “It’s been kind of intense, for both of us. In a completely amazing way, really.”
Tina smiled and rested a hand on his wrist. “”You know, don’t you?”
“Know what?”
“That it’s the real thing. With Blaine.” At Kurt’s sharp intake of breath, Tina just laughed. “It’s okay. It’s like that for Mike and I, too. We don’t talk about it a lot, because it’s kind of scary knowing that when we’re so young. But it’s there. And I’ve seen you and Blaine together. You have it, too.”
“Yeah,” Kurt breathed. “I told Carole last night, but I haven’t said a word to Blaine.”
“Trust me,” Tina said around a sip of coffee. “He already knows.”
**
Blaine was sitting on the wall by the courtyard Tuesday morning, waiting on Tina and Kurt and trying to work ahead in his English reading, cursing his contact lenses and wishing he’d given in to the lure of his glasses with every blink when his phone buzzed in his pocket.
Had a bad night. Skip with me?
Blaine typed his response quickly. Yes. Bad night, too.
He stuffed his A Tale of Two Cities into his bag and wrapped his scarf around his neck, and was halfway to his car when his phone buzzed again.
Carole home. Your house?
Blaine texted as he walked, itching to at least get off campus before the first bell. Yes. C U there, 15 mins.
Kurt was already there when he pulled up, leaning against the rear bumper and looking like he hadn’t slept a minute. Blaine wanted to wrap him up and make him talk about it, but the air was cool and the wind was on the edge of biting, so he just led Kurt into the house. He barely had the door closed when Kurt was on him, in his arms, clinging. Nothing else, just pressing himself against Blaine, wool and cashmere and the sharp tang of his aftershave, and Blaine was clinging back just as hard.
“Don’t let me go,” Kurt said into Blaine’s coat.
“Never,” Blaine gasped, suddenly overly hot and feeling closed in with his coat and scarf and backpack still on his shoulder. He kissed gently on Kurt’s cheeks, fluttering over his closed eyelids and the tip of his nose before pulling away.
“Let me- we should-” Blaine dropped his backpack with a thunk before shedding his coat and scarf and letting them fall on his backpack in a pile. “What’s going on?” he asked while Kurt did the same with his coat.
“Like I said. Long night. I didn’t sleep much. I was, um.” Kurt ran an awkward hand through his hair. “I was worried.”
“About?”
“You. Myself. Us.” Kurt rubbed his hand over his face and looked back to Blaine.
“What about us?” Blaine felt his stomach flip-flop in sudden panic.
“Nothing bad. God, sorry. Nothing bad, baby. I promise.” Blaine reached for Kurt’s hand, and he was surprised to find it cool and slightly damp.
“C’mere,” he said and pulled Kurt over to the couch with him. He leaned against the arm and settled Kurt between his legs, pulled the fleece throw from the back over the both of them, and wrapped Kurt in his arms. “What’s going on? And why did you want to skip today? You never skip.”
“It was just too real. School. All those people. I just needed you.” Kurt snuggled into Blaine’s arms and sighed happily. “Why did you agree to skip? You never skip either.”
“I had another fight with my dad last night.” Blaine let his head fall back against the arm of the couch, and tried not to focus on the gentle sweep of Kurt’s thumb across the back of his hand.
“About me, again?”
“No. Well. Kind of. But mostly about me.” Blaine laughed harshly. “I told him everything, all the ways he hurts me and all the ways you heal me, and he said he thought I’d never been so honest.”
“You’ve been nothing but honest with your father. What did he think your coming out was?” Kurt’s voice was tinged with frustration, but Blaine knew it had nothing to do with him.
“I don’t know. But I told him he just hadn’t heard me before. I doubt it’s going to change anything, but it felt good to put everything out there.”
“Yeah.” Kurt’s thumb stilled, and Blaine felt him relax into the cocoon of the throw around them. “Is it okay if we take a nap?”
“I think I’d like that,” Blaine said, blinking his gritty eyes and yawning. He had so many things he still wanted to say to Kurt, but none of that mattered in that moment. All he cared about was being safe and warm and home with Kurt.
**
Kurt’s neck was tight and his left arm was asleep, and he was pretty sure that Blaine’s elbow was poking into his ear, and he couldn’t quite figure out what had jarred him awake until he felt his phone buzzing and ringing out “Little Pink Houses” in jeans pocket.
He scrambled to pull it out, trying not to wake Blaine, and he knew he sounded breathless when he answered.
“Dad.”
“Kurt.” His dad sounded short, annoyed. “Why the hell aren’t you at school?”
“I take it someone in the office was paying attention for a change.” He let his voice drip with contempt.
“I’ll ask you again, kid. Why the hell aren’t you at school?” Kurt could hear the noise of the garage in the background.
“Blaine needed me. He had another fight with his dad last night. And I didn’t have a spectacular night myself. Tired.” He yawned for emphasis, and tucked his phone against his shoulder so he could sit up and stretch.
“Dammit, Kurt. You- you could have asked. Told me, and I would have excused you, I hope you know that.” Kurt could almost hear his dad fiddling with his ballcap. “You never skip. Even the worst times, you’ve always gone to school. I just- you scared me. When the office called, I thought-”
“Dad! God, Dad, I didn’t think.” And he hadn’t. The bad days were so far from his thoughts these days that he never paused to wonder what it would be like for his dad to get a call asking after him, from the place that had been supposed to keep him safe and had failed at every turn. “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I just. I needed to rest. And to just be here, with Blaine. Tell me you understand.”
“Yeah, kid. I do.” His dad sighed. “Now. What’s going on with that boyfriend of yours? Do I need to have a talk with his dad, because this has been going on since before the two of you even got together, and it needs to stop. For Blaine’s sake.”
“I don’t know, Dad. I don’t think it would hurt, but I also don’t know what it’s like to live here. I don’t want to make things worse.” He got up and padded into the kitchen, pulled down two mugs and set the tea kettle on the stove. “Blaine won’t say so, but I think some of the conflict is over me.”
His dad barked a short laugh. “I suspect that it wouldn’t matter, Kurt. I don’t think Blaine’s father would be happy with any boy.”
“Yeah, you might be right about that.” Kurt dropped a chai bag and two spoonfuls of sugar into each mug, and leaned back against the counter to wait for the water. “I guess, if you want, you could call. Who knows. Maybe you can help.”
“I’d like to. Help, if I can. He’s a good kid. The two of you are good for each other. But he and I might have to have words if I catch you two skipping again. Ask, next time.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“You two make sure to come home for dinner tonight.” Kurt heard tools clanging, and the faint sound of raised voices. “Gotta go, kid.”
“Bye, Dad,” he said, but the call was already dead.
“How much trouble are you in?” Blaine’s voice was rough with sleep, and he was leaning against the door frame rubbing at his hair.
“None that I can tell. My dad just freaked when the office called.”
“Shit.” Blaine’s face went pale. “I figured nobody would notice. My dad-”
“Don’t worry yet. And about your dad.” Kurt pulled the kettle off the stove and carefully filled the mugs halfway. “I think. Um. I think my dad wants to talk to him.”
Blaine shook his head and dropped into a kitchen chair. “No. He doesn’t like people in our business, especially about things like me.”
Kurt knelt down in front of Blaine, a hand on each of his knees. “You’re not a thing, Blaine. You’re his son, and he shouldn’t be able to treat you like you don’t exist.” Kurt felt his stomach twist. He hated the way Blaine was after one of these fights, like all the life was just gone from him. “I think my dad just wants to feel him out. He’s pretty good with people. He won’t make it worse.”
“Somehow I doubt that.” Blaine’s words were flat, dejected.
“I have to trust him, Blaine. He’s my father. And he loves us both.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he told us to come home for dinner tonight.” Kurt squeezed Blaine’s hand and smiled. “It’ll be okay. Trust me.”
“I do.” Blaine squeezed back, and his smile was strained. But it was a smile. It was a start.