Wow. Ok, I swear that I planned for this to be about 4k words. My stories just have this way of turning on me and growing out of control like the Audrey II.

AU: Blaine is Rachel's younger brother. I know that it's popular to give them Rachel's dads, but that wasn't going to work. So I just invented them a whole new set of parents. I'm going to say that this is sometime shortly after Rocky Horror. But the Karofsky thing doesn't happen, because that would screw with the plot and it's my universe, so I can do whatever I want. Blaine isn't out at the beginning of the story. I know Rachel and Kurt weren't really best friends until later in the season... but they are in this story.

Disclaimer 1: You might say that Rachel and Blaine are OOC with their parents. My defense is that we only know Rachel as she is after being brought up by two gay dads, and we have no idea how Blaine interacts with his parents.

Disclaimer 2: I don't own Glee, Disney, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, or (Better safe than sorry, I did talk about it up there) Little Shop of Horrors.

Super long Author's Note is super long. And over. Enjoy now.

Rachel, Kurt, and Blaine were sitting together in the corner of the choir room, talking. Well, Rachel was talking. She was going on and on about their competition for Sectionals, and how the idea of boys in matching jackets singing in harmony was quite charming, which would be a disadvantage for them.

Kurt looked like he really didn't want to talk about this.

"Of course, while their lack of sex appeal due to having no girls is a disadvantage for them, it's quite offensive for Santana to continue to use the fact that the school is all boys to joke about them being gay," she began to lecture.

Blaine jumped slightly and his head automatically shot up to look at Rachel.

Kurt and Rachel both turned to look at him.

"Blaine? Are you okay?" Rachel asked, her forehead wrinkled with concern.

Blaine nodded, smiling his best charming smile.

"Fine," he replied. "Just got lost in thought there."

Kurt, too, was frowning.

"You've been acting kind of weird all day," he mused. "Are you getting sick? Do you have a fever or anything?"

He reached out and brushed his hand across Blaine's forehead. Blaine's eyes widened as he jumped again, but much less noticeably thins time.

"Really," Blaine said, smiling. "I'm fine."

Rachel opened her mouth like she wanted to argue, but at that point Mr. Shue entered the room and began to write on the board. Kurt sighed and turned his chair to face the front of the room, sparing one last worried glance at Blaine.

Rachel and Blaine were about as close as siblings could be. They were only a year apart, which might have contributed to this. However, they shared the circumstances of spending years with nobody to really talk to but each other. Neither had been very popular at school or had many friends at all before Glee Club. When Rachel had joined, Blaine had been jealous. Jealous because his sister was making friends, and didn't need him anymore like he needed her. Jealous because she was being appreciated for her talent. Because she was already gaining some sort of relationship with Finn Hudson, who was popular and on the football team, no matter how complicated the situation seemed from the long rants she would go off on while he listened sympathetically.

It had taken a year of this, and Blaine feeling that his best friend was slipping away from him even more each day, for him to come clean to Rachel about how he was feeling.

She, who had always taken it upon herself to take care of Blaine, no matter how close in age they might be, had immediately hugged him, apologized profusely for ever making him feel neglected, and promised that he was just as important to her as he had always been.

It was her idea for him to join the club, too, when he entered sophomore year. She had helped him with his audition song and dragged him along to all the gatherings of the friends in New Directions.

That was just how it was with them. She took care of him and helped him make friends and listened to his music and told him everything. He listened to her and never called her a self-centered diva and always took her side.

Thanks to her, he had friends. He was good friends with Kurt, to Rachel's delight, because she wanted her brother and her best friend to get along, and she was willing to share (most of the time, anyway).

He was also on good terms with the rest of the group. Mike liked to dance with him, because he was always so enthusiastic and willing to just let loose and go crazy.

Brittany loved to play with his hair, and him allowing her to do so as much as she wanted to had sparked a friendship between them. It had mostly been based on Brittany curling Blaine's hair around her fingers as she informed him about the goings-on of Lord Tubbington, what she had heard about Mrs. Pillsbury and Principal Figgin's illegitimate child, or the rooster that lived in the air vents of the school (He had learned quickly to just go with what she said and not question the accuracy of her claims). Eventually, though, he had convinced her to do something that didn't involve his hair, and she had let him take her out for ice cream (which she allowed him to do quite often nowadays, because she loved ice cream and he was always willing to pay for it and he would still listen to her ramble between bites of her hot fudge sundaes.) He would do things with her that nobody else would likely be willing to do—They went to the zoo together, and the town fair, because Blaine liked being able to take a few hours to be innocent and child-like with somebody.

Kurt, though, had become Blaine's closest friend-friend (as opposed to the sibling-friend he had in Rachel) and Blaine knew that just that was a good enough reason to be in the club. Kurt was compassionate, smart, funny, unique… Blaine could list so many things he liked about him. Kurt watched obscure musicals on YouTube with him. Kurt invited Blaine to Friday night dinners and made it a point to often make his favorite foods, because he knew that Blaine's parents never really cooked. Kurt tutored Blaine in French, which he was hopeless at. Kurt had picked out an entire line of hair products and bought them for Blaine to keep his curly hair under control, as well as typing up a Word document that was several pages long and contained strict, detailed instructions on how to use them.

Kurt had been the one to make Blaine realize.

Rachel was sitting on her bed, watching recent videos of New Directions performances on her laptop and jotting down pieces of constructive criticism in her notebook. Sure, it annoyed the rest of the club when she told them what they had done wrong and how to fix it, but they would all thank her when they won Nationals.

She paused the video she was watching on a shot of Mercedes holding the final note of the song—Rachel would have to remind her of those tips she had given Mercedes on how to hold a note steady longer—when she heard a tentative knock on her door.

"Who is it?" she called out.

The door opened a little bit and Blaine poked his head in.

"It's me," he replied. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," Rachel said, beckoning him over. "Come here, I need you to tell me if you think that our choreography seems too rehearsed in this number—"

"Rachel," Blaine interrupted her. "I need to talk to you about something."

She looked up at him, her attention now focusing completely on him. Something in his tone made her think that this was really important, and he needed her to listen.

"Come sit," she said, pushing her computer aside and patting the space it had been occupying. He did, hesitantly, looking not at her, but down at her bed. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I need to tell you something," he said, then paused for a moment, biting his lip. "I—I don't know why I'm so nervous about this."

"Blaine," Rachel said, growing more concerned. "Did something happen? Are you okay?"

Blaine nodded, still looking down at her duvet cover.

"I'm okay. I really don't know why I'm nervous," he continued. "Because the reason I wanted to tell you was that I knew you were the last person that would ever judge me for this."

"I'm not going to judge you," she assured him. "But you're kind of worrying me. Did you do something wrong? Are you in trouble?"

"No," he said, and Rachel relaxed a little. "I just need to tell you, because you're so important and I can't stand you not knowing."

He risked a glance up at her. She was studying him with a questioning gaze, but not one that was pressuring him to talk.

He looked down again.

"Rachel—" he said. "I really don't know why this is so hard—Rachel, I realized something, I guess a while ago, but recently I've become sure of it."

Rachel was silent, but she reached out and held his hands, which he was wringing together in his lap, stilling them.

"Rachel, I think—no, I know—that I'm gay," he whispered. She let out a small breath (of relief or surprise, neither could really be sure), but he continued. "And I just needed you to know, I needed someone to know, and I knew that you wouldn't hate me for it and you would help me."

After a few seconds of silence, he looked up at her again. She was looking at him with a soft smile on her face, but her eyes were filled with tears.

"Oh, Blaine," she choked out, blinking. Then she leaned forward and pulled him into a hug, holding him tightly and rubbing his back with one hand. When they finally pulled apart, she spoke again.

"I'm so glad that you told me this. I'm so happy that you knew that I wouldn't judge you. I love you."

Blaine looked choked up now, too.

"So you're… you're okay with it?" he asked nervously, still needing confirmation.

"There's nothing to be okay with," she said firmly. "I wouldn't change anything about you. And that includes this. I'm not just going to… tolerate it. It's a part of you, so it's good. Okay?"

Blaine nodded.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked gently. "Have you told anyone else?"

He shook his head.

"I mean," he clarified. "I haven't told anyone. But I'd really like to talk about it."

"Okay," she said, leaving the conversation open for him to begin.

"I just never really thought about it," Blaine admitted. "I never thought about the fact that I didn't care about Santana's boob job or whether Brittany was hotter than Quinn. I just figured that I was just getting to that stuff late, or something."

Rachel hummed to show she was listening and he continued, encouraged.

"Then at the beginning of the year, I joined Glee with you. And you introduced me to Kurt." Blaine paused, gathering his thoughts. "But I don't want you to think it's like I realized it by falling in love with a guy or anything. It's not like that. I just started getting to know him, and seeing that he was always so sure of who he was, and that he never tried to hide it. And that's when I realized that maybe I was hiding part of myself, but I didn't really know what. Maybe I was hiding it from myself too."

Rachel was still gazing at him steadily, no judgment in her eyes.

"And I started noticing how you guys treat him. I mean, Santana and Puck make jokes about it, but nobody hates him for it or anything. And I found myself wondering how they would react if I were gay, and if they found out. I guess I finally realized that there was nothing to be afraid of. Not with you, or the rest of the club, anyway. So it just came out into the open—in my head, I guess. That I liked guys, and that I never thought that Brittany was hot, or even looked at Santana's boob job."

Rachel nodded, reassuring him that she was listening, and that she understood what he was trying to say.

"I realized that I didn't just think Kurt was beautiful for the same reasons I thought other people were. You're beautiful," he said, gesturing slightly at Rachel. "I can see that. You really are. But with Kurt… I can feel it. I can feel how beautiful he is and how that makes me feel. Does that make any sense?"

Rachel nodded.

"Yes," she finally said. "It makes sense. I know what you're saying."

"But lately, I've just been so scared," Blaine admitted. "I'm so scared because after I realized that I would be okay with you guys, I started thinking about the school, and Mom and Dad, and the rest of the world. I'm just so terrified because this is going to be the rest of my life, you know? I'll spend the rest of my life with people I don't even know disliking me for being who I am. Not to mention that I have no idea what Mom and Dad are going to think. And it's probably pretty pathetic, but I keep telling myself that I'll tell everyone soon, just so life can be normal for just a little bit longer. But I don't want to put the rest of my life off anymore. I don't want to be scared anymore."

He spoke the last few sentences with difficulty, because he was starting to cry. Rachel, too had begun to succumb to her tears.

She gripped Blaine's hand tightly, reassuringly.

"Do you want to tell anyone else? Are you ready? It's all right if you aren't. You shouldn't push yourself."

Blaine considered this.

"I don't want to make a big deal out of it," he finally said. "I don't want to get a bunch of attention for it, or shove it down people's throats. But I want people to know. I want Glee Club to know. I guess I want Mom and Dad to know. Maybe."

"I don't want to make you do anything," Rachel replied. "But I think that it would be a really good idea to talk to Kurt. He's done this, and he knows how it feels. He'll understand. And he cares about you. You're one of his best friends, and you're just as important to him as he is to you."

Blaine took a moment before hopefully asking, "Really? He does?"

"Of course he does," Rachel said gently. "Maybe he's not the best at showing it to people sometimes, but he does care about them. You're important to him, too. All this week, when you were acting really strange, he kept asking about you. He kept worrying and trying to get me to check on you more at home, or talk to you."

Blaine smiled.

"I'm sorry I had you guys so worried," he said.

She waved off his apology.

"It's fine, I'm just so happy you didn't kill anyone or steal a car, like Puck thought. Or get a girl pregnant, which was ironically Santana's theory, even though you don't have a girlfriend or anything. Oh, and Brittany thought that you were about to be sent to live in the Shire and were afraid to tell us, but I think that she got that one from Santana, too. You should have heard all of the things they came up with. I swear, they have no faith in your ethical ideals or general common sense at all. Probably from experience with the rest of the club, but still."

Blaine looked at her in surprise.

"Santana and Puck wanted to know what was wrong?" he asked.

"Blaine," she said in exasperation. "Everybody noticed that something was wrong. Maybe not as quickly as Kurt and I, but they were all a little worried. Don't let them fool you, we all care about each other. That includes you."

"Oh," he replied softly, looking like he might start to cry again.

"Do you want to tell them?" she murmured. "I can help you."

"I… I want to tell Kurt," he admitted.

"Okay." Rachel nodded. "Do you want me to help?"

Blaine hesitated. He knew Kurt wouldn't judge him, or dislike him for this at all. But maybe having someone there who already knew and understood what he was thinking…

"Yeah," he replied. "I'd like that."

She pulled him into another tight hug, and didn't let go for a long time. He didn't mind. He relaxed and thanked whoever it was out there who had given him an older sister to care about him more than anyone else did.

Everett and Demi Anderson had met in New York City in the winter of 1990. She had been a dancer in the New York City Ballet. He had been a traveling businessman from Ohio whose mother had always wanted to see The Nutcracker in New York.

"I was there with Grandma Jean," he'd say every time he told the story. "When I told her that I would be in New York for Christmas, she said that the only way that that would be okay was if I took her with me. She'd never been, and she'd always wanted to. So that was her Christmas present—a trip to see The Nutcracker."

They'd managed to get pretty good seats, and Everett's mother had seemed to enjoy the show very much.

"She told me during intermission," he'd say, "That it was the best Christmas present she'd ever gotten."

Then they'd gone back into the theater to see the second half of the show. Everett thought the play was all right, but he'd really come for his mother's benefit. Until the dancers began to entertain Clara. That was when he saw her.

"I couldn't take my eyes off of her," he said. "She was just… amazing. Beautiful, and a beautiful dancer."

"I wasn't even in the front!" their mother would protest. "I was one of the Russian dancers, and you could barely see me under all the stage makeup!"

"Still," their father would answer. "I could tell. And you were the best dancer up there."

At this point, their mother would blush furiously and allow him to continue talking.

Everett had dropped his mother off at the hotel and gone out for a cup of coffee. He was there on business, after all, and he had a presentation the next morning at his company's New York office to prepare for. That night probably hadn't been the best one to stay up late watching a play, but he soon realized just how worth it the show was.

"So I went into the first open coffee shop I could find, which was almost empty. I ordered my coffee, with plenty of extra espresso, because I did have a lot to do," he'd continue. 'Then I paid, and turned around to go wait for my coffee. And there she was."

"I was waiting to get my post-show drip," their mother would cut in. "And I was all ready to order when I noticed that the man who had just ordered was just standing there staring at me. Then he said, 'You're the dancer. You're the Russian dancer from the play."

"I wasn't all that good with women when I met your mother," their father would admit. "I would always just start babbling. And I did. She just looked at me like I was crazy and I just kept talking."

"He said, 'You're the dancer. You were in the back but you really should have been in the front, because you were the best one up there. And the most beautiful, and you're even more beautiful now that I can see you better,' and that's where he stopped talking and started looking embarrassed."

"And then she said," their father would say, laughing. "She said, 'You can keep telling me how great I am, if you want. Just let me get my coffee so we can sit down first.' So we did. And I did. I rambled on and on about how much I loved the play until she finally stopped me and asked me if I wanted to go get a really late dinner."

"We stayed out way, way too late," their mother admitted. "I didn't realize it at the time, but your father was supposed to be working, and I really should have been sleeping. But we couldn't stop talking."

"I finally got back to the hotel at about 2 A.M. the next morning," their father would tell them. "Your grandmother went ballistic. She started yelling about how worried she was and how she thought I had been killed by some mugger and wasn't I supposed to be working and what did I have to say for myself? I just looked at her and said, 'Mom, I think I'm in love.' She stopped yelling and started smiling and said that maybe now she could finally get some grandchildren."

Later that day, Everett had given his presentation (which had not turned out too badly, but he admitted that it probably accounted for the not-so-generous Christmas bonus he received that year) and put his mother back on a plane to Ohio.

Then he called his boss, who he was luckily reasonably good friends with. He told him that he needed to cash in his vacation time for the next year a few days early.

"He agreed to pull some strings for me, but he told me that it was insane and I would regret it later in the year," their father would say, laughing. "And I said, 'It's insane, but I'm not going to regret it.' And then I spent the next two weeks in New York."

Demi's show closed, so she had more time outside of rehearsal. Everett had nothing to do. So they spent the two weeks together. She showed him around the city, and they ate out and talked and got to know each other.

Two days before Everett was supposed to return to Ohio, he called his boss again.

"I said, 'Frank, I know you just did me a solid, but you're going to have to do me another one. I need you to transfer me to our office here.' He thought I was going crazy. He tried to talk me out of it. I just told him that if they couldn't transfer me there then I would have to quit and move there myself. I guess that did it, because another two weeks later I was on a plane back to New York with all of my things and nowhere to live. Frank wanted to give it more time so I could find an apartment, but I didn't. Your mother had completely bewitched me, or something. Luckily, she let me stay with her and a couple of her fellow dancers until I found a place."

The rest was history. A year later, the two were married. Two years after that, their mother retired from her ballet career and they moved back to Ohio.

"One day, I just sat him down, and I told him that I wanted to retire. I was getting too old to dance anyway. I loved New York, but I knew how much your father missed Ohio. I wanted a child, and your father wanted them to grow up where he had. So we packed up, moved back here, and had a baby."

"Your mother was always talking about how her children were going to be performers. They didn't have to be dancers, but she knew that they would be singers, or circus acrobats—she just knew that her dramatic gene would pass down. Obviously, it did," he'd say, gesturing towards Blaine and Rachel. "You're lucky it did, your mother might have disowned you if didn't have some sort of dramatic talent."

"Everett!" their mother would protest. "Of course I wouldn't. I'm just so proud of them! Such beautiful voices." At this point, Blaine would blush and duck his head modestly while Rachel nodded eagerly and grinned. "Even though I can't sing at all, and neither can you. They got the drama from me, but I don't know where they got their singing." Then the conversation would usually turn to Rachel's competitions, or Glee Club, or their mother's experiences as a performer in high school.

Demi had adjusted to Ohio quickly enough. The upper-middle class suburban neighborhood that they lived in was definitely different from her small apartment in New York City, and the secretary job that Everett had gotten for her where he worked wasn't quite as exciting as dancing on stage, but she was glad to have a comfortable place to raise her family, and she loved being a mother.

Rachel and Blaine had a good relationship with their parents, of course. They loved each other, even though they disagreed on a few things.

The Anderson's weren't exactly prejudiced. They didn't look down on people who were different than them, and they were all for equal rights.

They were just those people that were all right with something until they had to see it. Rachel and Blaine knew that if their parents knew that their best friend was gay, they wouldn't tell them that he would burn in Hell. They wouldn't tell them not to see him anymore. They would likely just cough awkwardly, nod, and change the subject.

Blaine and Rachel had long since accepted this and learned to not let it upset them. They also learned what to do to keep it from becoming an issue.

So no, their parents didn't know that when they talked about Kurt, they were talking about their gay best friend. They didn't talk about Puck's juvie record, or Quinn's pregnancy.

They knew whom they could invite over.

Kurt wasn't an option, of course. Their parents wouldn't like that very much, even if they would try to be polite.

Brittany came over to see Blaine sometimes when she was bored, or she had a new hair product that she wanted to test on him before she used it on herself, "just in case it actually turns your hair green or makes it fall out or something." Their mother loved her because she was an amazing dancer and very sweet to her hosts. Santana couldn't come with her. She was from Lima Heights, which, as she put it herself, was on the wrong side of the tracks, and she wasn't afraid to show it.

Rachel had Finn over all the time. Their parents loved him, especially because Rachel had warned him not to talk about Kurt.

But Rachel could never really have sleepovers, because she could only really have a couple people come.

Tina's eccentric clothing, no matter how awesome Blaine thought it was, wasn't something that their parents would appreciate in their house. Mercedes (And Blaine really, really hated to admit this one, because it wasn't like they would hate her or anything…) was black.

No, they didn't like having to hide their friends, or the fact that their parents were uncomfortable with things like that. But there was no point trying to fix it, and leaving things unsaid kept their home a peaceful one. Their friends had a vague idea of why they couldn't really visit, and they didn't seem to mind too much that the girl sleepovers were always at somebody else's house. Their friends didn't judge them for their parents, for which Rachel and Blaine were extremely grateful.

And, despite neither of them wanting to admit it, both Blaine and Rachel realized that telling their parents that Blaine was gay wouldn't be very helpful when it came to keeping the peace.

Three days after Blaine came out to Rachel, he told her that he was ready to tell Kurt.

So when Glee practice ended, Rachel and Blaine hung back. Kurt, who always walked with them to the parking lot, turned to see them still sitting.

"Aren't you guys coming?" he asked.

Blaine suddenly looked far too anxious to say anything.

"Can we talk to you for a second?" Rachel asked, realizing how at a loss for words Blaine was.

"Sure," Kurt said apprehensively, coming back to them and taking the seat on Blaine's other side. "What's going on?"

Blaine opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He looked pleadingly at Rachel.

"Blaine has to tell you something," she said, complying with only half of his unspoken request. "He has to tell you. Blaine, I can't do this for you." She said the last sentence gently but firmly. She reached out a hand and rested it on Blaine's back, rubbing reassuringly.

Kurt turned to Blaine.

"Are you all right?" he asked worriedly. "Is something wrong?"

Blaine shook his head.

"I—" he began, then stopped.

"Blaine," Kurt said softly. Blaine looked at Kurt. "Blaine, you can tell me, okay? You can tell me anything."

"Kurt…" Blaine said quietly. "Kurt, I'm gay."

He continued to look right into Kurt's eyes, and Kurt stared right back. Then he broke eye contact only to reach out and pull Blaine into his arms. Rachel pulled her hand away from Blaine and sat quietly. She got the feeling that she was watching a very personal moment between Kurt and Blaine, and she didn't want to disturb it.

She noticed that Kurt had his eyes squeezed shut, and he was crying. She couldn't really see Blaine, but he was shaking slightly.

"Don't cry," Kurt murmured into Blaine's ear. "It's all right. You'll be okay."

Blaine pulled away from Kurt and wiped at his eyes. Kurt glanced at Rachel.

"Do you want to tell me?" he asked gently. Blaine nodded.

"I just…" he said. "I just figured it out. It's like, I always had something I had to figure out about myself, but I never knew what it was until now. And I wanted to tell you."

Kurt nodded.

"Does anyone else know? Besides me and Rachel?"

"No," Blaine said quietly. "I know that you were different, because you've told us that you knew really early, but I'm kind of terrified right now and I think I need your help."

"Oh, Blaine," Kurt said, scooting their chairs closer together and putting an arm around Blaine. "Of course I'll help you. I know it's scary and hard but it'll be all right, I promise."

"Really?" Blaine asked, desperate for reassurance.

"It will," Kurt said firmly. "It'll be hard for a while but I'll be here and so will Rachel and everybody else. You'll be okay."

"Okay," Blaine whispered. Rachel, sensing that this was probably when she should leave, looked at Kurt, and their eyes met.

"Blaine," Kurt said softly. "Do you want me to give you a ride home, so we can talk here for a while?"

Blaine nodded, looking up at Rachel gratefully. She smiled and kissed the top of his head before leaving. Kurt scooted his chair around so he could face Blaine, but kept his hand on Blaine's arm comfortingly.

"I guess you know what it feels like," Blaine said. "Rachel's there for me, and she loves me, but you know what it's like."

"I do," Kurt affirmed.

"I didn't really know you when you came out," Blaine said. "I wasn't in the club then. Rachel talked about you sometimes and mentioned that you were gay. But I didn't really see it happen."

Kurt nodded.

Blaine bit his lip, as if he was afraid to ask the question.

"What happened?" he finally managed to say.

Kurt thought about this.

"I think that almost everyone already thought I was," he explained. "Mercedes was the first person that I actually told. When I did, she asked why I didn't tell her. That made me realize how much I wanted to tell people. Because even if it wasn't really a total secret, I was still trying to hide it. and I didn't want to hide it anymore. I told most of the girls at a sleepover we had a few weeks later. After that, it just sort of trickled out. I didn't ask anyone to keep it a secret. Nobody was all that surprised."

"What about your dad?" Blaine asked. He knew how much Burt loved Kurt, and that he accepted him. Blaine knew that his parents loved him, but he wasn't all that sure about the second part.

"I hid it from him. I joined the football team and said that Tina was my girlfriend. But when I told him, he knew. I honestly don't know why I thought I was fooling anybody."

"What did he say?"

"He told me that he didn't love the idea of me being gay, but he loved me, and if that's who I was, he would love me just as much," Kurt replied.

Blaine considered this. He'd met Kurt's dad, and it was obvious that he loved Kurt very much. Blaine saw how much he supported his son, even when it was something he didn't entirely understand.

"I've never met your parents, Blaine," Kurt said gently, as if reading Blaine's mind. "I don't know exactly how they'll react. But I know that they love you, and that won't change. I know that they might be uncomfortable or upset, but they'll never stop loving you."

"Kurt," Blaine replied. "You haven't met my parents because—"

"I know," Kurt interrupted. "I understand, too. I get that they don't like having to see and deal with things like this. But they're going to have to, and they'll realize it eventually."

Blaine nodded.

"When were you going to tell them?" Kurt asked. "Do you want to tell everyone else?"

"I don't know," Blaine said. "Soon. I'll do it soon."

Kurt nodded and smiled at Blaine.

"Come on," he said, hopping out of his seat and reaching for Blaine's hand to pull him up. "Do you want to go get some coffee?"

Blaine nodded, smiling back at Kurt and taking his hand.

"Kurt," he suddenly said, stopping on his path towards the door. "Can I ask you a stupid question?"

Kurt stopped, too, and turned around to face him.

"I doubt it's stupid, but sure," he replied.

"Brittany kissed me once," Blaine admitted. "She asked if I could tell her if her lip gloss tasted okay and then kissed me before I could say anything. It wasn't bad or anything, but I didn't feel anything. I figured that it was because she's Brittany, and she's my friend."

"Root beer, right?" Kurt asked with a wry smile.

"What?" Blaine asked in return, because that was an awfully random thing to say.

"Brittany. Her lip gloss tasted like root beer. Yeah, I've kissed her too," he admitted.

"Yeah," Blaine said. "Have you ever kissed a boy?"

Kurt opened his mouth slightly, closed it again, and then answered, blushing slightly, "No. We go to a public school in suburban Ohio, Blaine."

"So you can't tell me what it's like," Blaine stated more than he asked.

"No," Kurt agreed.

Neither moved for the door, though. They just stood for a moment before Blaine spoke again.

"Kurt," Blaine asked. "Can I kiss you? Just so I can know? And you can, too?"

Kurt swallowed and bit his lip.

"Yeah," he said, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat before saying again, "Yeah, if you want to. That's fine."

"Are you sure?" Blaine asked, more quietly this time, even as he turned to face Kurt fully and placed his bag down on the floor beside him.

"Are you?" Kurt retorted, but the effect was ruined by the wavering in his voice. He shrugged his shoulder bag off and set it on the piano.

Blaine nodded and stepped forward. Kurt didn't back away, so he took another step.

They were close together now, so close that they couldn't really focus on each other's eyes without them blurring. Kurt placed a reassuring hand on Blaine's shoulder, and Blaine gripped Kurt's other arm gently.

Then one of them leaned in, and the other leaned in half a second later, and their lips met.

They froze for a moment, and then Kurt moved his hand to Blaine's cheek and held it there as he kissed him. Blaine's hand slid up Kurt's arm to cup the back of his neck, and he kissed him back, his mind racing because oh my God he was kissing Kurt.

Kurt's heart was beating way too fast, and he was sure that Blaine could probably hear it, but that didn't matter. His mind was entirely preoccupied with the fact that he was kissing Blaine and it didn't feel weird, it felt amazing, and Blaine tasted like cinnamon, which was so much better than root beer, and he really didn't want to stop.

He did pull back first, though, a few seconds later. Blaine blinked and pulled away also.

Blaine broke the silence first.

"Well, I'm definitely gay," he murmured. Kurt choked out a tiny laugh.

"Yeah, me too," he admitted, and then he let go of Blaine and stepped back. He backed away just as far as it was necessary to sit down on the piano bench.

"I think," he said slowly. "I think that you need to take this whole thing one day at a time, you know? Telling people. And… everything else. Just do everything as soon as you're ready. So you never do anything that you're not ready for."

Blaine nodded, because he heard the second thing that Kurt was trying to tell him. He understood that they should take things slowly, because yeah that kiss was amazing but Blaine had just realized he was gay, and see where things went.

"I think you're right," he said. "So do you want to go get coffee now?"

Kurt smiled at him.

"Sure," he said. "My treat."

Rachel awoke the next morning to Blaine poking her in the stomach.

"Ow!" she cried, seizing his hand and shoving it away from her. "What was that for?"

"You wouldn't wake up," Blaine explained innocently.

"How did things go yesterday?" Rachel asked as she walked to her bathroom. "You didn't come and get me so I wasn't sure if you wanted to talk about it last night."

"It went really well," Blaine said happily. "Rach, hurry up, I want to tell you something and we're going to have to leave soon. You really should have gotten up a while ago."

"I know," Rachel groaned, emerging from the bathroom and sitting in front of her mirror to brush her hair. "I was up really late talking to Finn," she admitted. "But we're not going to talk about that, we're going to talk about you."

She whirled to face him, her freshly brushed hair swinging behind her.

Blaine laughed and sat on the end of Rachel's bed.

"You're probably going to tell me it was stupid," he warned her. "But we said we're going to take everything really slowly. The telling people thing, and…"

"What?" Rachel asked, her eyes wide. "Blaine, what did you do?"

"I kissed him," he admitted, then rushed to continue as she opened her mouth. "But I didn't like, force him, I asked if I could and he said yes."

"Blaine, that sounds like it would be wonderful, but are you su—" Rachel said before breaking off completely.

"Rachel?" Blaine asked. "What's wrong?"

Then he noticed that she wasn't looking at him, so he turned and followed her gaze to the bedroom door, which he had left open.

Where his mother was standing, a look of utter shock on her face.

"Mom," Blaine said frantically. "Mom, did you—"

His mother held up one shaking hand, then turned and walked quickly down the hallway, away from him.

Blaine looked at Rachel in dismay. She met his gaze with equal panic.

"Mom!" Blaine called as he jumped up off of Rachel's bed and chased his mother down the hall.

He finally caught up to her in the dining room. His father was sitting at the table reading the newspaper, like always. And his mother was whispering to his urgently.

"Mom," Blaine said weakly. "Dad?"

They looked up at him expectantly. His mother had tears in her eyes. His father's mouth was set in a grim line. Rachel, who had followed him out, stopped and stood behind him.

The room was silent.

"This wasn't how you were supposed to find out," Blaine finally whispered. This was, apparently, the wrong thing to say. His mother started to cry and his father's jaw clenched.

"Rachel, you two need to leave for school now," he said steadily, not looking at Blaine.

"But dad," Rachel began to protest.

"Now," he repeated firmly.

Blaine, after staring at his parents, mentally begging them to look at him, gave up first. He turned, pushed past Rachel and dashed back to his room.

Rachel followed seconds later.

"Blaine," she said quickly. "Blaine, it'll be fine, I promise."

He turned to look at her. There was a look of total disbelief on his face.

"We're going to go into your room and get your bag, okay?" she said firmly. "Then we'll get in the car and drive to school. We'll talk some more in the car in a minute. Got it?" Blaine nodded. "Good. Come on."

She led him up to his room and picked his backpack up off of his chair. He followed her dumbly as she continued to her room, grabbed her bag, and then walked out the side entrance to the house.

She held open the car door for him as he got in, then handed him his backpack. In the back of Blaine's mind he knew that it was somewhat pathetic that Rachel was leading him around like a toddler. But he was in such a state of shock that he honestly didn't think he could think for himself at the moment. All he knew was that he had to get away from the house.

Once they had pulled out of the driveway, Rachel continued to talk in that reassuring, certain voice.

"We're going to drive through Starbucks and get you some coffee. Then we're going to go to school, and we're going to go to the choir room. We can stay there for a while. We never skip so they won't call home. Got it?"

Blaine nodded, because even though he could barely concentrate on Rachel's words, he understood what she was saying.

They drove through Starbucks, and Rachel shoving a medium drip into his hand woke Blaine up somewhat.

"Drink that," she ordered. He did, and it did make him feel better. The drink was comforting in its familiarity, and it was calming his brain a little.

They got to school early, with plenty of time before the bell was due to ring. Rachel led Blaine to the choir room, pulling out her phone as she did.

"Blaine," she said, and he glanced up at her. "Is it okay if I ask Kurt to come help?" Blaine nodded.

They reached the choir room, and Rachel sat Blaine down in one of the chairs in the front row of the risers.

"Kurt's going to be here soon," she said soothingly. Blaine just clutched his half-full coffee cup and took another sip.

A minute later, Kurt arrived at the door. He came inside, saw Blaine, and rushed forward.

"Is he all right?" he asked Rachel worriedly. "He looks a little…"

"He's just in shock," she said. "He'll snap out of it. It was really sudden."

Blaine and Kurt's eyes met.

"Kurt," Blaine said weakly.

Kurt stepped forward an immediately dropped to his knees on the floor in front of Blaine, making his face level with Blaine's.

"Blaine, honey," Kurt said, the term of endearment slipping out automatically. If Blaine or Rachel thought anything of it, they didn't say anything. "You can talk to me if you want. You can cry. You're safe here."

At that, Blaine burst into tears. Kurt let out a sigh of relief—at least Blaine was thinking clearly. Then he let Blaine rest his forehead on his shoulder and cry there while Kurt gently stroked his hair.

Rachel sat down in the chair next to Blaine's and took his hand.

"I didn't think it would be this bad," he sobbed. "I thought that they wouldn't like it, and I thought they might get mad. But I never thought it would hurt this much."

"I know," Kurt murmured to Blaine. "I know it hurts."

"It wasn't even supposed to happen! It just happened so fast and once she heard it there was no way I could take it back. They probably hate me for this happening but I didn't mean for it to happen! I didn't; I was going to tell them later and be more careful about it and try not to make my mom cry."

"I know you were. It wasn't your fault. They don't hate you for this. They don't hate you at all. They were just caught off guard, and they were scared. They'll be fine," Kurt continued to talk soothingly to Blaine.

"Come here," he said, gently tugging Blaine down onto the floor beside him. Blaine curled up next to Kurt, and Rachel sat down close to Blaine's other side.

"Blaine, everyone's texting me," she said tentatively. "Tina saw Kurt running for the choir room and Puck saw us come in this morning, and they're worried. They want to know if they can come help."

"Yeah, if they want to," Blaine mumbled, recovering from his tears and beginning to talk more normally. "Kurt, you're ruining your jeans. And I probably just ruined your shirt."

"It's fine," Kurt said. "They're not new and I got them on sale anyway."

Blaine chuckled and replied, "Okay. If you say so."

Then he looked up at the sound of the choir room door opening, and the Glee club pouring in.

"What are you all doing here?" Blaine asked. "Shouldn't you be in class?"

"Shouldn't you?" Santana shot back as she sat on the edge of the piano.

Puck lowered himself to the ground a few feet from Blaine.

"Nobody cares. I skip all the time, and you wimps who don't are all okay because they won't call your parents."

"We heard that something was wrong," Mike said.

"Are you okay, Blainey?" Brittany asked as she settled in a chair right behind Blaine and petted his hair. "Who made you cry? I'll throw Lord Tubbington at them if you want me to. It really hurts when he falls off the bookshelf onto me, so that should work."

Blaine looked around. All of the members of the club had settled themselves in around him, and they were all looking at him with concern (well concealed concern, in the case of a couple of them, but concern nonetheless.) A lump rose in his throat. He looked to Kurt and Rachel. Kurt just smiled sadly at him, and Rachel nodded.

"I came out to my parents this morning," Blaine said, to the general astonishment of the room. "Oh, and I guess I just came out to you guys, too," he added as an afterthought.

"Came out of where?" Brittany asked.

"I told my parents that I'm gay, Brittany," Blaine explained.

"Oh," Brittany said, beginning to make tiny braids out of his longer curls. "Like Kurt."

"Yes, Britt, like me," Kurt agreed.

Everybody sat in silence until Sam asked, "What happened with your parents?"

Blaine sighed.

"I told Rachel and Kurt before," he explained. "And this morning I was talking to Rachel about… something to do with it." Like Blaine, Kurt was blushing slightly, which made Blaine think that he probably knew exactly what he had been talking to Rachel about. Luckily, nobody else in the room seemed to notice.

"My mom heard me, and told my dad. When I told them it was true Mom started crying and Dad told us to go."

"I'm sorry," Finn said. Everyone nodded in agreement.

"It's not your fault," Blaine said. "It's mine. I was being stupid, I left the door open and was telling Rachel about—" he glanced involuntarily at Kurt, but the rest of their friends were tactful enough not to call him out on it. "It's my fault that they heard."

"This isn't your fault," Mike said suddenly. "Sure, maybe you forgot to close the door. So maybe they found out about it because of a mistake you made. But it's not your fault that it happened in the first place, and it's not your fault how they reacted." Blaine's gaze met Mike's—Mike, with whom he had spent hours at a time planning choreography for their performances in the cramped space of Mike's bedroom, because Mike's father didn't approve of his dancing.

"You shouldn't have to feel guilty because you weren't good enough at hiding a part of you that shouldn't even be a secret," he finished. Tina reached out to Mike and squeezed his hand, smiling.

"I don't know what to do now," Blaine admitted. "I can't take it back, I can't change it, I can't make it better by doing a ton of extra chores like when I crashed the car. I don't know how to fix it."

"Blaine, you keep talking about how your parents feel bad about what happened, and how your mom cried, and how you want to fix this for them. Maybe you shouldn't be focusing on them right now. I think you need to tell us what you're feeling," Quinn reasoned. "Besides feeling guilty."

Blaine laughed hollowly.

"I feel like crap," he informed her.

"Why?" Tina asked. "What exactly is making you feel like that?"

Blaine looked around the circle to the end where most of the boys were sitting together. He knew that you had to be careful when it came to sharing actual feelings with male friends. That was what Kurt and Rachel were for.

But they were all looking at him with sympathy, and Finn was nodding at him to continue.

"Because if they love me as much as they said they did, you'd think that it would take more than this to ruin that, wouldn't you? Like me joining a gang or something. Isn't love supposed to be more resilient than that?"

"They do love you, more than you think," Quinn told him. "You weren't in the club then, but did Rachel ever tell you about what happened when I was pregnant?"

Puck shifted uncomfortably, looking guilty.

"Yeah," Blaine said. "She told me a little bit. She told me that your parents… Oh."

"They kicked me out," Quinn said bluntly. "Well, my dad did. My mom just let him. She was scared, and I still haven't completely forgiven her for that. When my dad was gone, though, and she didn't have to be scared anymore, she brought me back home because she still loved me. Your parents didn't kick you out, they just freaked on you. They do care about you, Blaine. This didn't ruin that."

"So what do I do?" he asked.

"Maybe just try giving it time, and talking to them. And try not to take it too personally, I guess."

"I think we need to make you feel better, sweetie," Brittany said. Santana, for some reason, momentarily looked at them jealously, before apparently remembering that Blaine was gay now and not planning on sleeping with Brittany. "What will make you feel good? Kurt can make out with you, if you want." Blaine and Kurt both turned bright red. "Because you're both Capital G and making out always makes me feel better, and Kurt's a great kisser with baby hands," she went on to explain.

"I think he's good, Britt," Kurt answered for him uncomfortably when he saw that Blaine had been rendered momentarily speechless. "Also, can you not offer for me to make out with people without asking me first? That could lead to some awkward situations."

Brittany shrugged.

"If you say so," she said.

"How about this," Rachel suggested. "You need to go to class second period, because you have that big geography test. Everyone else probably has things they shouldn't miss too. But how about after school, since we don't have Glee, whoever wants to can go to Kurt's house and we'll have a Disney marathon. You love those."

Ordinarily, Blaine would get mad at Rachel for revealing this, but he was past the point of caring about embarrassment at the moment.

"Can we watch Mulan?" he asked.

"Of course we can," Kurt replied. "Whichever ones you want. So you guys won't have to go home until later. Give your parents some more time to think, and maybe you can talk tonight or tomorrow."

Blaine broke out into a grin.

"That sounds great," he said, then winced as he glanced at the members of the club that would undoubtedly find the fact that this sounded great to him quite amusing.

Puck shrugged.

"Normally I might make fun of you, but Mulan is a total badass," he admitted. "And Ariel is pretty hot, if you watch that one. Jasmine, too."

Everybody turned to face Puck, incredulous.

"Well, they are!" he said defensively.

"Dude," Artie said in minor disgust. "They're animated cartoons."

Finn raised his eyebrows.

"Well, so are those Asian anime chicks in those videos you like so m—"

"Okay!" Artie exclaimed. Tina was looking at him with a strange expression, as Mike put his arm around Tina's waist and glared at Artie possessively.

"You guys really should stop offering people my services without my permission," Kurt added as an afterthought. "Not that way, Santana! Get your mind out of the gutter."

"Sweet, innocent Porcelain," Santana mused, still grinning wickedly. "My mind lives in the gutter."

Just then, the bell rang for second period. Blaine stood and looked around at his friends—friends that he never knew he really had until this week. At least one good thing had come from this. Oh, and kissing Kurt. That was a bonus too.

"See you after school, Things 1 and 2," Santana said, gesturing to Rachel and Blaine. Even Blaine had to laugh at that one. "I expect a ride to Lady's house. If you leave without me, I will have Brittany drop Lord Tubbington on you while you're sleeping."

"Not Blaine!" Brittany protested as the club began to walk out. "I'll do it to Rachel, though, if you want." She didn't say this maliciously, just honestly, so Rachel let it slide.

Kurt hung back from the group, staying inside the room as they left. Blaine, noticing this, stopped too.

"You know," Kurt said as they stood near the door, just barely aware that they would probably be late for class. "You probably shouldn't now. But when you're ready, you can kiss me again. If you want."

Blaine grinned again.

"Okay," he said. "Maybe I will. I mean, I probably will. I really want to, and I don't see how that's going to change anytime soon, so don't think that it will. I definitely will. Sometime. Soon. Not now, but I will." He stopped when he noticed Kurt trying to contain his giggles.

"Sorry," Kurt said. "You just do this thing where you totally go off on a tangent and start to ramble. It's really endearing. Now come on, we're already late for class."

So Blaine followed Kurt and exited the choir room, feeling a thousand times better than he had when he had entered it.

"All right," Santana announced as she, Rachel, and Blaine entered Kurt's crowded living room. "Let's get this sissy-movie-fest going!"

Everyone ignored the jab, except for Kurt, who gave Santana his best bitch face.

"You're here, too, you know," Kurt pointed out.

"Have you seen Shang's abs?" Santana asked defensively. "You of all people should understand that."

Kurt snorted in as dignified a way as he could manage.

"Do all of you people have weird fetishes for cartoons?" he asked.

"So, Blaine," Brittany asked, from where she was sitting between his outstretched legs, leaning back onto him. "Does this mean that you think that Mulan is sexy when she's in her boy clothes? Because I think she's sexy when she's in her boy clothes." She paused, then continued, "Actually, she's sexy in her girl clothes too."

An awkward silence followed before Brittany gasped and spoke again.

"Shang thinks Mulan is sexy even when she's in her boy clothes, too! Is Shang bi-curious too?"

Blaine looked like he had absolutely no idea how to answer this. Finally, he spoke.

"I like to think that it's a kid's movie so the relationships aren't based on sex appeal," he said. "Not quite as much anymore, because you guys just pretty much ruined my childhood, though."

Brittany stared at him blankly.

"So, you think Mulan and Shang are sexy?" she clarified.

"Sure, Britt," Blaine replied. "They are very sexy Disney characters."

"You know," Sam said, changing the subject. "I do a really good Mushu impression."

The room went silent when they heard the front door of the house close. Kurt jumped up from the seat he had taken on the couch behind Blaine.

"One second," he said. "I didn't really have time to ask Dad if you could come over. I'm sure it's fine, but let me go talk to him."

He looked to Blaine, and asked, "Do you mind if I tell him what's going on?"

Blaine shrugged.

"He's going to find out sometime, right? It's fine," he said, sounding somewhat gloomy again.

Artie pulled the DVD off of the shelf of movies that they had placed his chair next to and tossed it to Tina, who was closest to the TV.

"We'll just get it set up and stuff," he said.

Kurt nodded and walked into the front hall, where his dad was standing.

"What's going on in there?" his father asked.

"We needed to cheer Blaine up, and we wanted to watch some movies. Rachel volunteered our house. It's probably the best place for this anyway."

His father turned from the coat hooks, where he had been digging through his jacket pocket for something.

"What's wrong with Blaine?" he asked.

Blaine came over to Kurt's house quite a lot. He couldn't come to Kurt and Rachel's sleepovers, but he came to dinner and after school to hang out enough for Burt to like the kid and care about what was going on with him.

"Try not to make a big deal out of it, okay?" Kurt asked.

"Okay," his father replied. "What is it?"

"Blaine just came out."

His father raised his eyebrows and said, "Oh. Like, came out came out?"

"Yes, Dad," Kurt replied, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, he doesn't really want to go home at the moment so we're all here with him. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, Bud. That's fine. Tell Blaine that, uh, he can come here whenever, okay? And I'm here if he ever needs anything."

Kurt grinned.

"I will," he said, hugging his dad before turning and walking back into the living room.

Two hours later found them all still sprawled around Kurt's living room, now on, by Puck's request, Aladdin. His reasoning was that "Jasmine shows way more skin than any of the others, and the dude's a criminal, which is cool." This had been enough for the rest of the club.

They were just seeing the genie for the first time when somebody's phone began to ring. Artie, who had taken control of the remote, paused the movie as everybody glanced around to find the source of the ringing. Finally, their eyes all settled on Blaine.

Blaine was staring down at his jacket pocket, which was lighting up and vibrating. He slowly reached down to retrieve his phone, staring at the screen.

"Who is it?" Kurt asked.

"It's my dad," Blaine replied, his mouth dry and his thumb hovering over the phone's screen, unsure of whether to answer.

"Blaine, you have to answer it," Rachel reasoned. "If he wants to talk you need to let him."

Blaine nodded and touched the green button with his thumb, then lifted the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" he said hesitantly.

"Where are you?" his father said without preamble. He didn't sound angry, which was good. Just annoyed.

"I'm watching movies with my friends from Glee at somebody's house," he answered carefully. He could feel the eyes of everybody in the club on him, but he didn't look at any of them.

"Whose house?"

"Kurt's," he said reluctantly, praying his father would leave it at that. He didn't.

"Kurt. Is that the boy?" Blaine knew exactly what his father was asking. He also knew that there was no point in lying.

"Y-yes," he said.

"You need to come home," his father replied. "Now."

"Dad, it's not like that," Blaine pleaded. "All of our friends are here, Rachel's here—"

"You both need to come home," his father repeated firmly.

"Dad, I just—"

"Now."

Then the phone clicked, and the call ended. Blaine lowered the phone with a shaking hand, then looked up to see all of his friends staring at him with sympathy. Brittany had turned around in her place in front of Blaine to face him, and looked close to tears.

"Blainey," she said sadly. "What happened?"

"Rach," Blaine said, avoiding Brittany's innocent, probing eyes. "We need to go home."

"Do you really think that's—" Mercedes tried to say, but Blaine cut her off.

"We need to go," he said again, more loudly. He stood up, not looking at any of them. He felt Kurt's hand reach out and grab onto his; Blaine squeezed it for a moment before pulling away and stepping away from the group. "Come on," he choked out.

Rachel finally stood.

"We'll see you guys later," she said awkwardly, moving to join Blaine by the doorway. Blaine was still looking straight away from the group.

"Bye," he said softly, before turning for just a moment to lock eyes with Kurt.

"Bye," Kurt replied, so quietly that Blaine barely heard him.

"Come on," Blaine repeated, reaching out for Rachel's hand and pulling her down the front hallway and out the door, barely holding in tears.

The drive to their house was completely silent, except for the couple times that Rachel began to speak but thought better of it when she saw the look on Blaine's face.

Blaine sat in the car for as long as possible after they pulled into he driveway, with Rachel waiting patiently for him. Finally he opened the door and walked up to the front door. He opened it as quietly as he could, but it wasn't quietly enough.

"Blaine," he heard his mother's voice call from the kitchen. "Come in here."

Rachel, who was right behind Blaine, pushed him gently through the kitchen doorway.

"You need to do this," she whispered. "I'll come with you."

Blaine smiled gratefully and entered the room.

"Yeah?" he said apprehensively.

Blaine's mother and father were sitting together on one side of the kitchen table.

"Blaine," his father said. He gestured to the chair on the opposite side. "Come sit."

Blaine did, his heart in his throat. Rachel followed him, pulling another chair up to the table right next to Blaine's loudly and with a defiant look at her father. He looked like he wanted to protest, but Rachel gave him a hard look and he let it drop.

Blaine really loved his sister.

"Blaine, sweetie," his mother began. "We're not angry with you. I'm sorry if we made you think that." Blaine and Rachel shared a confused look, and Rachel shrugged slightly.

"We just think that this is a bad idea," his father continued, sounding as if he had rehearsed this conversation. Maybe he had. He looked at Blaine expectantly. Blaine struggled to articulate his answer.

"Dad," he said in a carefully controlled voice. Rachel held his hand under the table, but he pulled away to wipe his palms on his jeans. "This isn't an idea. I didn't think of this, it's not like I decided for it to happen."

"Blaine, you don't have to do this," his mother protested quietly.

"I'm not doing anything!" he shot back. "I just am something. It's who I am, and I didn't ask for it to be."

"This boy," their father said. Blaine's blood froze. "You two are… together?"

"Well… no. Not really. I don't know," Blaine answered truthfully.

"But you…" Blaine's mother looked like she couldn't bear to finish the sentence.

"I kissed him," Blaine said harshly. His parents flinched. Blaine was glad; he wanted to make his parents flinch and feel uncomfortable because he wasn't sad anymore, he was just angry.

"Well, you chose to do that!" his father said loudly, also starting to get worked up. His mother placed a hand on his arm, trying to calm him down.

"I'm not going to ignore it just because you don't like it!" Blaine retorted.

"I don't want you over there, doing God knows what—" his father said angrily, before Blaine spoke again.

"We weren't doing anything!" he cried. "We're not together, we weren't going to do anything. Why don't you tell Rachel all this, Finn was there and he's actually her boyfriend!" Rachel looked slightly uncomfortable from where she was sitting silently, staring at her parents as if she had never seen them before.

"We know Finn!" his mother said, as if this was a reasonable argument. "We know him, we trust him."

"You would know Kurt too if I didn't have to be so goddamn terrified to bring him here!" Blaine shouted. "You wouldn't trust him! Ever! You wouldn't want to know him!"

Then he stood and kicked his chair out of the way.

"Blaine, don't leave this room," his father said quietly and dangerously.

It was at that moment that Blaine wanted to hurt his parents, hurt them just as much as they had hurt him. He wanted them to feel betrayed by somebody they loved, too.

"You know," he said viciously. "I've liked Kurt for a long time."

"Don't," his mother said.

"I'll probably kiss him again."

"Blaine, stop it," his mother pleaded.

"I'll probably fall in love with him because I'm already pretty close and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it! I'll probably kiss him again and hold his hand and be with him and I'd like to marry him!" he shouted, desperate to make his mother cry more than she already was, to make his father look even more livid.

"Stop it!" his mother screamed desperately through her tears.

Blaine glared at her, turned on his heel, and stalked out of the room.

"Blaine, get back here!" his father yelled after him, but Blaine ignored him. He was halfway to his room when the screaming started. He froze and turned around, listening.

"How the hell could you do that to him?"

Blaine's eyes widened. He had never, in the sixteen years he had known Rachel, heard her curse. He seriously doubted that his parents had, either, as it appeared that they had been shocked into silence.

"Do you have any idea how hard this is for him? Do you even care? He's struggling with so much right now. The rest of his life is going to be filled with people yelling at him, and hating him, and telling him that he's a bad person for this! Just like you are!"

"Rachel," their father said, trying to reason with her. "Don't you think you're exaggerating just a b—"

"No!" she screamed. "You don't know! You don't know because you're too afraid to look! But I'm not!"

"Rachel, your brother just needs—"

She ignored her mother.

"Kurt's my best friend! I've seen him go through hell! I've seen him get slushied and thrown into dumpsters and humiliated and yelled at and all of that might happen to Blaine and all you care about is how you're feeling!"

Their parents were silent.

"Right now, he needs somebody to actually support him. And you know what? He's got that. He has me and Kurt and all of our friends who spent the past week worried sick about his and the whole day trying to make him feel better because of what you did to him. But you'd think that you'd be the first in line, because you're his parents, wouldn't you?"

"Rachel, Kurt isn't—"

"Kurt isn't what? Because he's been there the entire time. And don't say," she said, probably in response to one of them opening their mouth to speak. "That it's because he's gay too. He knows how to help Blaine because he's done it, but he loves Blaine either way, just as much as I do, and just as much as you should! He would have been there anyway! He's not in this to get into Blaine's pants, I know that's what you're thinking! He's been our friend for months, you just didn't know because we knew you'd think like this!"

Blaine stood stock-still from his place in the hallway. He'd never hear Rachel scream like this. Not when he'd torn the cover of her signed Wicked playbook. Not when Finn had fallen asleep during a private concert she was giving for him. Not when Kurt had said absentmindedly that he thought Rachel was too much of a prude to be able to play Maureen if she ever got the chance to audition for RENT.

"Maybe we have a right to think like this about this Kurt!" their father finally shouted back, louder and more angrily than Blaine had ever heard him. More angrily than when Blaine had crashed his Cadillac into the tree by their driveway. More angrily than the time he and Rachel had snuck out together to go to the midnight showing of Rocky Horror. More angrily than when Rachel had kept them all up all night by blasting "Defying Gravity" as loudly as possible to prepare for her diva-off with Kurt the next day.

"Blaine never thought like this until he joined that stupid club! You never thought like this! You used to hold the same ideals as us, you never would have gotten all of these ideas into your head without that club!"

"This would have happened either way! It's a good thing that Glee taught us how to accept people, and that it gave Blaine and I friends that would accept us when you wouldn't!"

"When did these friends of yours become more important than your family, Rachel?"

"Maybe when your stupid ideals became more important than your own son!"

"Don't you dare talk to me like that!" their father shouted, in a terrifying tone.

Rachel was silent. Blaine knew what it meant when Rachel went silent during a fight. It meant that she was legitimately scared to make things worse.

Blaine ran back into the room. Rachel and his father were standing now, standing close together. His mother was sitting in her chair at the table, watching them, and still crying silently. His father looked furious, and Rachel was now looking down at the ground, hugging herself and face streaked with tears.

"Don't talk to her like that," Blaine said lowly, dangerously.

His father turned on him, then back to Rachel. He had, apparently, just noticed his daughter's tears. He looked horrified at the sight of them.

"Rachel," he said regretfully. "I shouldn't have yelled. I'm sorry."

"Don't tell me you're sorry," she whispered, not looking up. "Tell him you're sorry. And mean it."

Blaine's father looked at him and opened his mouth. Unable to fulfill Rachel's request, he turned back to her.

"Don't cry, honey. Please."

The only times that Blaine ever saw his father cry was when he fought with Rachel and managed to make her do so. It looked like he was about to now.

Blaine reached out, grabbed Rachel's arm, and pulled her towards the doorway. He turned back to his parents. He had lost the will to hurt them. He just wanted them to stop hurting him. So he said what he really wanted to, just because he felt it and he didn't want them to think that he didn't anymore.

"I'm just going to take her to bed," he said softly. "I love you guys."

And with that, he turned and led Rachel down the hall.

"Rach," he said. "You go take a shower and get ready for bed, okay? I'll come back and check on you and bring you some tea."

Rachel smiled gratefully at him

"Thank you," she said.

He returned to her room a half hour later to find her sitting on her bed in her pajamas. He handed her the mug of her favorite tea, with some honey in it because he knew that when all of this was over (if it ever was over) she would complain about how the screaming had hurt her voice, just like she always did when she fought with somebody. He had been a little apprehensive about going into the kitchen, but his parents had apparently gone back to their room after Rachel and Blaine left.

"Thanks," she said. "I'm sorry if I made things worse."

"No!" Blaine said quickly. He didn't want Rachel to think that. "That was amazing, what you did for me out there. That was so brave. I know you hate fighting with Dad."

"I hate it when you fight with him more," she admitted.

"Rachel, is it really that bad? With Kurt?" he asked nervously.

She sighed.

"I don't want to lie to you. Yes, sometimes it is that bad. But Kurt's always telling me that when we get out of this stupid town and out of high school and we go somewhere that's not totally backwards, it'll be better. And he's right. It will get better, Blaine, I promise."

Blaine smiled.

"I love you, Rach," he said, kissing her forehead. "Goodnight."

"You'll be okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

He smiled again, clicked off her light for her, and went to his own room.

That night, he stayed up as late as he could. He told himself that it was because Tumblr and YouTube really were that addicting, but he knew he was lying. He kept looking at the clock, praying to whomever it was that was up there that his parents would come in, apologize, say they regretted what they did, anything. He would give them until 11. Midnight. 1 AM. 2 AM.

He finally fell asleep around 2:30 in the morning when he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, barely having time to pause the video he was attempting to watch and close his computer before succumbing to exhaustion.

He awoke to somebody stroking his hair gently.

"Brittany?" he mumbled groggily, his eyes still closed. Where was he? Why was Brittany with him? He could've sworn he was at a Lady Gaga concert with Kurt just seconds ago.

"Brittany?" a confused voice above him asked. "What about Brittany?"

Blaine opened his eyes.

"She plays with my hair a lot," he yawned in response to his mother's question, then froze, remembering the night before.

"Why are you here?" he asked. His mother flinched, and Blaine winced. He hadn't meant to say it quite so harshly.

"I wanted to see if you were okay," she said.

"I'm fine," he mumbled.

"I also wanted to apologize," she continued.

Blaine looked at her in hopeful surprise.

"I… We. We don't understand. We don't understand what you're feeling, and we didn't try to. That was wrong."

Blaine nodded.

"Last night, after you left, we decided that we needed to try. We love you, and we want to understand and know everything about you. Because we love everything about you, honey. I spent all day yesterday hating that this happened, but I couldn't bring myself to hate that part of you," she explained quietly, looking slightly ashamed. "We want to understand. We're going to listen, and you can tell us anything you want, and we won't get angry."

Blaine sat up slowly.

"We'll try. I promise."

"Does Dad think all this stuff?" Blaine asked quietly.

"He's in Rachel's room. He's talking to her. He was afraid that you wouldn't want to see him."

Blaine winced again, partially because he was aware that his father's fears were not implausible.

"Honey, he was up all night crying. He was so scared that he'd lost you forever."

"He's not going to lose me forever," he mumbled.

"He bought five books off of Amazon about supporting your child when they come out," his mother said, smiling in amusement.

Blaine couldn't help but laugh at that. That was something so totally his dad to do.

"Losing you isn't worth anything. At all," she said, serious again.

Blaine blinked back tears. He swore he'd spent more time crying in the past week than he had in the last year. And that was saying something, because Kurt was always making Blaine watch RENT and Titanic and other movies that Blaine was a total sucker for when it came to sad parts.

"Tell me about Kurt," she requested.

He looked at her hesitantly.

"I want to know," she said. "I want to know about the boy you love. I want to meet him."

"Maybe not love," Blaine said, blushing. "I mean, I'm crazy about him. I can totally see myself loving him."

He looked up at his mother guiltily, hoping he hadn't scared her off. But she just nodded.

"He's a junior. He's Rachel's best friend," Blaine began. "He's in Glee club and he's an amazing singer. He's way more fashionable than me and he's the one that made me stop wearing t-shirts with holes in them."

"Oh, thank God for Kurt," his mother muttered reflexively. She looked just as surprised as Blaine at those words.

"He's a countertenor and he's and amazing cook. He knows a lot about cars. He's taller than me. He lives with his dad and Finn and his mom, because they're dating. Burt and Carol, I mean, not Kurt and Finn, because that would just be weird. He loves musicals. He was Riff-Raff when we did Rocky Horror." God, it felt good to get all of this off of his chest.

His mother was smiling at him, so he kept talking, picking up steam.

"He was on the football team last year. He won us that big game. He's the best guy singer in the club. Probably the best singer, too, but if Rachel heard me say that she'd murder me. He likes Grey's Anatomy too; he's the one Rachel and I camped out with to get Season 6 on DVD. He's really, really smart…"

Kurt didn't manage to see Blaine until the end of the day on Monday, when they met in the choir room for Glee club. He hadn't seen Blaine all weekend, because he didn't want to intrude on what was going on with Blaine's family. Blaine had called him Saturday night to tell him about everything, from the fight to what his mom had said (he left out the part about rambling about Kurt for a half hour straight before his dad came in, because that was a little embarrassing) to his Dad's idea for them all to go to Columbus on Sunday to go shopping, because Rachel loved being able to shop at a place other than Lima's crappy mall, and to go to that one restaurant Blaine loved.

"The pink looked awesome against the black," he was saying to her. "I just think the blue is more you, you know?"

Tina nodded, and replied, "That's what I thought, but I do feel like it's time for a change. Maybe I could just cut it some."

Blaine was about to reply when Kurt sat down in the seat on his other side.

"Kurt!" he exclaimed.

"Hey," Kurt said, smiling.

"I bought you something in Columbus," Blaine said excitedly. "One second…"

He rooted through his backpack for a minute before producing a shopping bag. Kurt opened it to find a shimmery blue-green silk scarf.

"Blaine," Kurt sighed. "It's beautiful. You shouldn't have."

"It matches your eyes," Blaine explained, taking back the scarf and wrapping it around Kurt's neck for him. Kurt blushed and looked down at himself.

"You're lucky that it also matches my outfit," Kurt replied, but he was grinning.

Blaine looked around himself. Tina had turned away from them to talk to Mike, and nobody else had arrived yet.

He leaned in close to Kurt and said quietly, "I'm so happy."

Kurt smiled that smile that made the area around his eyes crinkle up. Blaine knew that that was Kurt's really, really, happy smile.

"I'm so happy you're happy," Kurt replied, only a little shakily due to Blaine's proximity.

"Kurt," Blaine said shyly, still almost whispering. "Can I hold your hand?"

Kurt's smile got bigger.

"Of course you can," he said. Blaine reached down and picked up Kurt's hand, holding it and resting their hands on his knee.

In the next couple minutes, the rest of the club entered one by one, each having a different reaction to this new development with Kurt and Blaine. Blaine's favorites had to be Rachel, who squealed quietly and jumped up and down clapping, and Artie and Sam, who walked in together and high-fived after Artie shouted, "Klaine is officially canon, yo!"

Soon, everybody was present except Mr. Shue. Blaine suddenly realized that Mr. Shue had missed the entire thing due to being sick on Friday. He was curious as to what his reaction would be.

However, when he entered the room, and his eyes fell on Blaine and Kurt's interlocked hands, he just smiled widely before speaking.

"Okay, guys. We've got a lot of work to do before Sectionals. Does anybody—besides you, Rachel—have any song suggestions?"

Blaine squeezed Kurt's hand. Kurt squeezed back. They were both thinking of that promise that Blaine had made—that he'd kiss Kurt again. And soon.

God, I am so glad that I'm done with this. Don't get me wrong, I like how it turned out, but it took me forever and it got way too long...

I know I spent way too much time on some things... Like Everett and Demi's love story. I wanted to show that they really were nice, happy people, but then I got this story for them going and it was so cute so I got all excited and just kept writing it... Sorry about that.