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I'm sorry to have to say this, but shit is about to hit the fan. Sorry, Blaine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That next week was a good week; everything went relatively well. There were no more incidents, Blaine's punchbag had arrived, and Kurt seemed happier, which set Blaine's mind at ease.

Blaine had had his house to himself for the whole week. Cooper was shooting in LA for one of his shitty commercials for the entire week, his mom was AWOL (as per usual) and his dad... well, he had no idea where exactly his dad had been for the past week, but he didn't care all that much. He knew it was something to do with work anyway.

It was because Coop was a pretty shitty brother and his mother and father were pretty shitty parents that Kurt had finally stayed in Blaine's house for more than five minutes. He even spent the whole of Saturday (including Saturday night) and Sunday there. The pair of them loved the feeling of waking up next to the ones they loved.

Unfortunately, all good things come to an end.

-------------- SATURDAY --------------

"Blaine, I'm trying to watch the movie," Kurt scolded, as Blaine kissed his face and neck, bored by Finding Nemo.

"Come on, Kurt! You and I know exactly what happens. I know for a fact that we have watched this at least five times together!" He huffed and gave in. The movie kept on playing despite the fact that no one was paying any attention to it.

Finally, after they had puffy lips and Blaine's shirt was on the floor and Kurt's shirt was unbuttoned, they had stopped and mutually decided to just be. Neither attempted to move to the bed or anything. They just stayed there- Blaine on top of Kurt, cuddling each other. Blaine let his thumb drag itself over Kurt's shoulder, and Kurt lazily dragged his hand over his boyfriend's smooth, toned back muscles.

They were comfortable. They were safe. For now.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!" The boys' eyes snapped open on Sunday morning and their first shared thought of the day was 'shit'.

Blaine could see the look of sheer terror in Kurt's eyes. My poor baby.

"It's okay, Kurt, calm down," he cooed, trying to relax him, quickly moving off of him and collecting his shirt from the floor.

"No, Blaine, it's not okay! I come home to see you with another man, shirtless. This better have been you drunk, Blaine. This is not how we raised you! We did not raise-"

"-a fag?" Saying the word himself made his chest ache. In Blaine's opinion, it was possibly the worst word mankind could mutter. "A fairy? A queer? Is that it, dad? I'd rather be that than a straight, lonely asshole." Blaine looked down at his beautiful boyfriend, whose eyes were wide in shock. No one had spoken for a solid ten seconds. He bent down to where Kurt was still lying on the sofa, pulled him up and stood next to him, subsequently taking a large breath. "Dad. This is Kurt." Kurt gave a subtle nod, trying not to say anything to fuel the fire. His purple shirt was still undone, wrinkled and his camouflage jeans were hugging him so tightly in all the right places. Blaine got a little bothered just looking at him and his dishevelled hair.

"And who is Kurt, to you, Blaine?"

Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Red alert. PANIC. Was he seriously about to do this?

In spite of his internal panic, Blaine looked calm and collected, taking a deep breath to calm down every inch of his body that was telling him to abort mission.

"Dad, Kurt is my boyfriend," he whispered breathily. Both boys' breath hitched in suspense.

"Your boyfriend?" he said, disgusted, spitting the word out as if it left a foul taste in his mouth. "You," he accused, pointing his finger at Kurt. "You have ruined my child. You disgust me. You are never to come near him or my house again!"

"Dad!" Blaine tried to interject, but Kurt cut him off. He'd had just about enough of people insulting them and was ready to fight this one. Yes, his dad could get out of control sometimes, but there was no alcohol on his breath, and he definitely wouldn't do anything with Kurt in the room.

"Blaine, no. I've got this," Kurt assured him. Blaine really wanted to object but just couldn't find the words. This was so unlike Kurt. "Actually, Sir, I did no such thing. Blaine was always going to be gay. And he always will be. And it's not a curse. And it's not a disease. It is natural. And the sooner you accept that, the sooner that your family can just be happy together." Blaine loved Kurt. He loved him so much. But he didn't always love Kurt's undying optimism. The same undying optimism that could get them hurt.

Blaine glared hard at his dad, just waiting for a reaction. For any of the signs that his father was about to lose it. There it was. The anger twitch in his top lip.

And then it started. George Anderson lunged at Kurt, and Blaine's protectiveness kicked in. He thrust himself in front of Kurt. With him already being mid-swing, Blaine's father threw the strongest swing he had ever taken directly at Blaine's eye.

Blaine's head threw itself backwards with the force. Kurt heard the sickening crunch of impact and felt sick. That was gonna hurt in the morning.

Everything seemed to stop after that. Blaine was on his knees, his palm cupping over his eye and panting to try and take away the pain from the blow. Kurt was stroking Blaine's cheeks and forehead with his thumbs to comfort him. He then placed Blaine's chin on his shoulder and pulled his boyfriend into an unreciprocated hug. Panicking, he whispered "Kurt, I can't open it. I really can't open it."

George was just standing there, letting it all soak in. He had hit his son- and worse- before, but this was different. This time he was sober. The thought that his strong blow was meant for Kurt sickened Blaine.

"Blaine," his dad said, his voice softer, but still laced with authority, "I want you to leave."

They separated and shared an incredulous look with each other. Finally building up the courage, Blaine meekly looked over to his father to maintain eye contact. George Anderson's heart broke a little at the sight of his son's eye. The bruise was going to be huge. It had already left a mark and had left his eye swollen closed.

"Oh, I'm serious. Leave." Slowly, they rose to stand, went upstairs and packed Blaine's suitcases (and the few things that Kurt brought with him) in absolute silence. Whilst Blaine tended to his face, trying desperately to stop his eye streaming tears, Kurt gathered the important stuff like money, keys, chargers and anything personal that could be carried.

Once all of that was finished, the boys headed back down the stairs in silence. Neither had talked, neither had displayed any emotion. They were both working on autopilot, looking and feeling numb and zombified.

When they approached the front door, they jumped when they heard Blaine's father talk behind them. "Blaine," he stuttered, hurriedly, his whole aura changing, "Blaine, from this point onwards, you are no longer my son." And for the first time since this happened, tears threatened to spill, but Blaine didn't let them. Kurt's hand found his and they intertwined them as if that alone was saying 'screw you'.

"That's okay, though. I love Kurt and Kurt loves me and nothing, not even an arrogant homophobe like you, will take that away from me." Kurt turned to leave, but his boyfriend stopped him, an idea flooding into his mind. He smirked, evilly. "Oh! I forgot something."

Blaine turned to Kurt and gently attached their lips, softly cupping his face. He was determined to show his father that they were in love. Real, honest to god love. It didn't last long and was followed up by gently kissing Kurt's hand. Blaine smirked again, internally this time, glancing over George's face, which was a mix of confused and grossed out. The two lovers picked up their bags, which Kurt had dropped out of shock, and smiled in a bittersweet manner. "Take that, asshole."

And with no more words, they left and slammed the door behind them. As soon as they shut the door, however, everything was different; Blaine's demeanour shifted from confident to introverted and scared; the bags were dropped on the floor (again) and Kurt's arms were wrapped firmly around the smaller, hunched and shaking figure. He didn't try to stop Blaine from sobbing and whimpering, he just stroked his ungelled hair and let him cry.

Blaine felt so utterly pathetic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ta-da! I'm so sorry. I won't leave you on a cliffhanger - the next chapter coming up.

Stay groovy!

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