The Confrontation

The shrill ringing of the doorbell jolted the two boys out of their slumbers. A quick glance at the clock told them that they'd only been out for an hour and a half, and they couldn't help but be impressed with the time that Rick Anderson made in his furious fervor to get to the Hudson-Hummel home. The boys detangled themselves from each other's limbs and stood. Blaine was already shaking, so Kurt wrapped an arm around his shoulders as he led them both downstairs.

Burt was just about to open the door when he caught sight of the boys. "Kurt, are you expecting any—what's wrong with Blaine?"

Kurt glanced quickly at Blaine, who nodded for him to fill Burt in. "Blaine's father is on the other side of that door, Dad. He...he found out about our Christmas special, and was absolutely irate. He called Blaine and...said some pretty nasty things."

Burt's confusion was quickly eclipsed by dark protective anger. "Is he here to hurt Blaine? You?" Neither boy answered. "Oh hell no." He wrenched open the door to face a livid Rick Anderson.

Kurt assumed that Blaine obtained ninety-nine percent of his looks from his mother, because he looked almost nothing like his father. Rick Anderson was well over six feet tall, with pale skin and coiffed strawberry blonde hair. He was quite burly, his tensed muscles hidden behind an intimidating and expensive suit—Armani, Kurt quickly identified. His eyes were icy blue, with no warmth whatsoever. The only feature he seemed to have passed on to Blaine was his eyebrows. They, too, were bushy and triangular—but Kurt could not imagine them shooting upward in pleasant surprise or furrowing together in adorable confusion. At that moment, they were pressed down in pure rage.

"Burt Hummel?" Rick practically spat. His eyes surveyed the man in question, clearly judging his oil-soaked overalls and scuffed work boots.

Burt bristled. "Yes I am. You must be Blaine's father."

"So it would seem," Rick sneered. "Where is the little fag? I'm here to take him home."

Blaine immediately recoiled, and Kurt tightened his hold on Blaine's shuddering body. Kurt opened his mouth to make their presence known, but Burt beat him to the punch. "How dare you speak like that in my home, in front of me, in front of my son!" Burt was yelling by the end. "You have no right to come in here and—"

"Actually, I do," Rick interrupted smoothly. "You have my son and I want him back." He looked past Burt to the two boys at the bottom of the stairs. "You." He pointed right at Kurt, who tensed. "You get your filthy, sinful hands off of my son right now, or I swear to God—"

Burt roared and shoved Rick backward, nearly knocking him off of the porch. He ignored the worried shouts of his son and inevitably future son-in-law behind him. "YOU WILL NOT THREATEN MY SON EVER, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? I WILL CALL THE POLICE AND—"

That's when Rick snapped and threw a swing at Burt's red face. The other man jerked back just in time, and Rick stumbled forward, immediately trying to punch the other man again.

"Dad!" Kurt screamed, letting go of Blaine and rushing forward to pull his father inside. By this time, Carole had entered the living room from the kitchen and Finn had made his way downstairs. Both Hudsons gasped at the altercation out front.

Blaine, however, pushed Kurt gently to the side and barreled past him, throwing himself at his father so that they both landed in a heap of snow in the yard. The two struggled, Blaine to land a proper punch in his father's face, Rick to toss Blaine as far as he could off of him.

"You—will—not—touch—that—man!" Blaine choked, arms swinging wildly. Rick grabbed his son around the middle and squeezed tightly, expelling all air from Blaine's chest. Blaine vaguely heard Kurt cry his name from somewhere on the porch, but he had seventeen years of hatred spilling out of him all at once, and there was no stopping him now. "BURT HUMMEL IS TEN TIMES THE MAN YOU WILL EVER DREAM OF BEING, DAD! HE LOVES HIS SON FOR EXACTLY WHO HE IS! HE'S NEVER LAID A FUCKING FINGER ON KURT! AND KURT! HOW DARE YOU THREATEN HIM! I SWEAR TO GOD, IF YOU COME NEAR HIM, I WILL PERSONALLY END YOU WHERE YOU STAND, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

Strong arms wrapped around his stomach and heaved him backward onto his feet. Finn held him back as he continued to try to attack his father. Burt pushed Rick down farther into the snow, snarling, "I think you'd better leave, and never, ever come back." He shoved the other man once more and turned, quickly ushering all three boys inside. He slammed the door behind them.

Blaine was shaking, no longer with fear, but with rage. Kurt gently eased him onto the couch, where he held the younger boy as he broke down into shuddering sobs. Finn backed out of the room to give them privacy, but Carole sat on the other side of Blaine and rubbed his back soothingly. Burt paced in front of the television, balling his fists up angrily, resisting the urge to climb in his truck and chase that complete asshat down and run him off the road.

After a short while, Blaine calmed enough to pull back. "I'm so, so sorry..." he mumbled right away.

"Baby, no." Kurt took Blaine's face in his hands and forced him to keep eye contact. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you had to go through that, that your father's such a...that you have the home life that you do."

"Kid, listen to me." Burt sat on the edge of the coffee table and rested his forearms on his thighs, leaning in close. "What you did tonight...you were a real man. Not only did you defend Kurt, but you defended me. You showed guts and honor and...courage, and I will forever be grateful for what you did for my family tonight. Something else you said while punching the crap out of your dad...you mentioned that I'd never hit Kurt." His eyes flashed quickly to his son and back. "Has he ever hit you?" Blaine bit his lips and closed his eyes. He didn't answer; he didn't have to. Burt inhaled sharply. "Okay. I mean, not okay, but...you're not going back there, Blaine."

The boy's eyes snapped open. "I have to, I mean, it's my home—"

"No it's not and you know it," Burt interrupted kindly. "This is your home. It has been for a while. And you're going to stay here." Blaine opened his mouth to protest, but Burt cut him off. "We've got the spare room. You go to McKinley now. God knows it would be nice to have someone around here who understands what the hell Kurt's talking about half of the time. Most of all, you're safe here. We'll collect your things some time this week."

Blaine and Kurt were speechless. They looked at each other, unsure of what to do. Carole seemed to sense their reticence, so she said, "Honey, why don't we give them a minute to talk. This is a lot to take in, and it's been a fairly hectic evening." Burt nodded in agreement, and the two adults exited the room.

The two boys held each other for long time, neither sure of what to say. Kurt kept his arms firmly around Blaine, who played with the hem of Kurt's shirt absentmindedly. Each one seemed to be afraid to say something that would upset the other, but Kurt broke the silence. "What do you want to do?"

Blaine sighed and leaned backward, breaking Kurt's hold on him. "It's not about what I want. What I want is to move in here with you and never leave and sneak into your room in the middle of the night and feel comfortable around your parents and treat Finn like a brother and finally have a family. But it's not that simple. My mom is still in that house, Kurt. He's on his way home to her right now, and with how pissed off he is...I'm terrified for her. I can't—can't abandon her. And what about us? Won't things get weird when we're living together? What if we get on each other's nerves? What if we get into a fight but you can't storm off to your house and I can't storm off to mine because they're the same place? What if Finn gets mad at me again? What if your father decides that he can't trust me around you, and wants me gone? You're graduating soon, Kurt! What if...when you leave...your dad takes back his offer? What if—"

Kurt cut off Blaine's panic with a kiss. "Hush, silly," he whispered against Blaine's lips. "You've met my dad. He's a serious man. He doesn't make an offer as life-changing as this one without meaning it completely, and he doesn't go back on his word. I thought it was odd how quickly he came to this conclusion tonight, but with how coolly Carole took it, I'm assuming they've discussed it before. And my father trusts you, Blaine. If he didn't, you wouldn't be in this house right now. Or ever. And I'd never leave it. He knows how much we love each other—he's even given me a speech about treating you right. He thinks of you as a son, Blaine. His third son. And Finn...I think he's okay with you. With us. I know he is, because we spoke about it after your quasi-fight with Sam. He's over the jealousy. You're a brother to him, now, too.

"Now as for the whole 'living together' thing...didn't we already discuss this tonight? It's a given. I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you. So what if the rest of my life starts now, as opposed to a few years from now? Are you not going to move in with me then because we might fight? Of course we're going to fight, Blaine! I mean, have you seen your wardrobe? I can only let that go on for so long." He smiled when Blaine chuckled brokenly. "I think living together will do wonders for us. It'll give us a foundation for the future, something to build the rest of our lives together on.

"I don't know what to say about your mother, Blaine. I honestly don't. I want to get her out of there as much as you do, but...my biggest priority is you right now. I want you out and safe and happy. Then we can work together on getting your mom in the same position. I think it'll be easier once you're eighteen and can take legal action. Which reminds me...we should call the cops, Blaine."

"NO!" Blaine leapt up, quivering once more. "No, Kurt, he's a lawyer, he can get out of everything—and it would just make him angrier—"

"Okay!" Kurt grabbed Blaine's hands and pulled him back down, gathering him into another hug. "Okay. You have a good point. I just hate feeling so helpless, like he's won—"

This time, it was Blaine's lips that interrupted Kurt. "He didn't win. Not yet. I don't think anyone's won yet. But we will."

Kurt smiled. "You know, I was so proud of you tonight. The way you stood up to your father...you didn't have to do that. What I said earlier tonight...I meant that. However long it takes you to fully knock him on his ass is fine. I don't want you to think that you have to prove something to me by taking him on." He brushed away the collection of tears on Blaine's cheek with the pad of his thumb. "I love you. I love you no matter who your father is or what he says to me or what he does to us. You are mine, and no unfortunate gene pool is going to change that. That being said...even though I was absolutely terrified for both your life and my father's...I couldn't help but notice how hot you were tonight."

Blaine let out a breathy laugh. "Thank you, Kurt. For...for everything." He connected his lips to his boyfriend's.

Just then, the door leading to the kitchen creaked open, and Burt's head poked into the room. "You boys set?"

Kurt nodded. "We're game if you guys are."

Carole popped out from behind her husband. "Excellent! I'll go start getting things ready!" The three males chuckled appreciatively at the woman's excitement as she bounced up the stairs.

Burt crossed over to Blaine and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Never doubt your place in this family, Blaine. You will always be a son of mine, whether or not you and Kurt make it—but something tells me that that's not going to be an issue." His eyes twinkled momentarily, but then grew serious. "Just remember, doors always open. I'm trusting the two of you to keep things PG in this house, even when I'm not home. Got it Kurt?"

Kurt gaped, offended. "Why do you assume that I'm the inappropriate one? I'm the one who covers his ears and sings whenever you start talking about...you know. He's the one who told you to give me the talk in the first place—yes, that's right, Blaine Anderson, I know about that and you are far from forgiven —and then started dating me a week later!" Blaine elbowed him the ribs. "Ow!"

Burt rolled his eyes at the boys' antics. "Alright, tonight, if you two want, you can sleep together." Burt's eyes blew wide as he realized what he had said. "Wait, no, what I meant was, in the same bed—no, that's not—what I mean is, Blaine, you don't have to stay in the guest room if you don't want to. For tonight! When it becomes your room, then you stay there. But, after everything you two have been through tonight...I'll let you two be unconscious in the same bed. Nothing more. Got it?" The boys nodded fervently. Burt shuffled upstairs to help Carole, muttering, "This is going to be a long year."

"Come on," Kurt said, jumping up and dragging Blaine with him by the hand. "Let's go get ready for bed. I don't know about you, but I've enough excitement for one eternity tonight."

Blaine smiled in agreement, and then kissed Kurt softly. "Hey. I just realized something. If Burt thinks of me as his son...doesn't that make us brothers?"

Kurt slapped his boyfriend's arm, and then turned and stalked away. "If you ever say that again I am breaking up with you on the spot, do you hear me Blaine Anderson?"

Blaine grinned and chased after his boyfriend.

I promised a sequel, and here it is. Honestly, I'm not please with how this turned out at all, but it's Christmas Eve Eve and what the hell. And before anyone asks, no I am not making this a WIP, nor will I write a sequel. The story line is over.

Just to make that clear.

Happy Chrismahanukwanzakah! I'm not sure if I'll get a chance to upload anything else before the twenty-fifth, so I'll say that now. May God or Gods or the gnome in the teacup on the other side of the moon bless you and your family! And eat lots of food! 'Cause that's encouraged this time of year!