Over the whine of his impact wrench, Burt heard the shop phone ringing. He turned the machine off and wiped his hands as best he could on his coveralls. He strolled over to the phone and picked up the receiver.

"Hummel Tires."

"Hi, Dad."

"Oh hey, Kurt. Is something wrong? You never call in the middle of the day."

"No, no, I'm fine. I'm at lunch right now."

"Oh." Burt leaned against the edge of his workbench. "What's up?"

"Well..." Kurt stretched out the word. "I wanted to ask you something."

Burt could almost hear Kurt shuffling his feet. "Can you ask me faster? This flat isn't going to change itself."

"Right. It's about dinner tonight."

"You don't want to skip it, do you? Because Carol has been dying to try this fish recipe out for awhile now, and you're the only one who can tell her how it tastes with more than a thumbs up or down."

"No, I don't want to skip it. I was actually wondering if I could... bring someone along."

"This is supposed to be a family thing, Kurt. You see your friends all day at school."

He heard Kurt sigh. "You had Finn and Carole over when you guys were just dating and that was never a problem," Kurt responded huffily.

"Yeah, well, me and Carole..." Burt paused, mulling Kurt's words over in his mind. "Who is you want to bring over exactly?"

"Just my friend, Blaine. He's in the Warblers. He's my friend."

"Blaine. Is he, like, a boyfriend kind of friend?"

"He is a friend, who is a boy, who I really want you to meet, and who wants to meet you too. And Finn and Carole. The whole Hummel-Hudson gang."

Burt wiped his face with his hand, forgetting that it was caked with grease. "I dunno, Kurt."

"Please, Dad? Carole is fine with it."

"What? When did you even talk to her about this?"

"Well, you know. I've brought it up once or twice."

Closing his eyes, Burt expelled a lungful of air through his nose, tapping the receiver against his temple and thinking.

"Please, Dad? Please?"

In his mind's eyes, he could see Kurt standing in front of him, eyes wide and hopeful, hands clasped to his chest. "Okay, fine." His son squealed in his ear. Burt pulled the phone away a few inches. "Just, you know, don't bring him over right after school. Give us a little time to make the place up."

"Don't worry, Dad. I was already planning on it. I wanted to rearrange the living room."

"Well, don't go too overboard."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you. I'll let him know right now. Alright. Well I have to go, Dad. I love you."

"Yeah, I love you, too." Burt pressed the end button and sighed again. Kurt was bringing a boy over. For dinner. To meet him.

Burt came home to the sound of furniture squeaking against wood floors. Without taking his jacket off, he headed down the hall and saw Finn and Kurt in the living room. Kurt had one arm across his chest and was tapping his chin with his other hand. Finn stood next to him, rubbing the small of his back.

"Dude," Finn sighed. "There are only so many ways the sofa and chairs fit in this room. Just pick one already."

"I want to optimize the space in case we decide to retire to the den for coffee after dinner." Kurt made a small gesture with his hand.

"What does that even mean?"

"If we all want to sit in the living room after we're done eating."

"There are only five of us, Kurt. We don't take up that much room." Kurt cast an exaggerate glance up and down Finn and then looked him in the face, brows raised. Finn rolled his eyes. "Okay, I do, but you don't. And neither does your boyfriend. He's pretty... compact."

"His name is Blaine, Finn." Kurt stuck his tongue out and gently tapped his top lip with it, thinking. "And you may be right. Okay, what if... we put the sofa in the middle, and your dad's chair on the right, with the end table between them, and the Lazy-Boy on the other side? Only pushed back a little farther. And then we can grab my coffee table from downstairs and bring it up." He looked at Finn.

Finn blanked his face and stared levelly at Kurt, who smiled back. "Did I mention you're the best brother in the whole world?" Kurt asked hopefully.

Finn sighed through his nose, then picked up the floor lamp and the side table, setting them in the corner of the room. Burt passed through the living room once the path was clear, heading into the kitchen. Both the boys said hello without looking up.

"Oh, hi Dad."

"Hey, Burt."

Carole was standing at the counter, pouring orange juice over a piece of fish Burt couldn't identify. He kissed her on the top of her head, then reached over and opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water.

"Hey sweetie," she said. "How was your day?"

Burt unscrewed the top of the bottle and took a long swallow. "Kurt is bringing someone over for dinner."

"Yes, I know. He called me from school to tell me. He's been going non-stop since he got home." She smiled down at the dish.

"It's a boy."

"Oh my god." She looked at him with mock surprise. "Did you know I already knew that, too?" She picked up the dish, and moving Burt to the side with her hip, put it in the fridge.

"I heard Finn say he's Kurt's boyfriend." Carole went to the stove and turned it on, setting a pot of water onto one of the burners. She had to move around Burt, who didn't seem to realize that standing in the middle of room meant he was always in the way.

"How strange. I've never seen Kurt and Finn go on a date. But then, I've been working nights a lot."

Burt was not amused. He watched Carole pile asparagus onto a paper towel and quickly rinse them under the tap.

"Kurt didn't tell me it was a boyfriend. He told me it was a boy, who was a friend." Carole snorted. "What? I had guy friends over for dinner when I was his age. If he was inviting the guy he was dating over, he would have told me." She didn't say anything. "Right?"

She stretched up for a cooking sheet sitting on top of the cabinets. Burt reached over her and grabbed one. "No, the other one. Burt, Finn didn't tell me he was dating Quinn until I walked in on them making out in his bedroom. And even then, he denied it. He thought I'd buy that the science project they were working on was taking three months to finish." She began lining the pan with tinfoil.

"Well that's Finn. Kurt and I are different. We talk about everything." He took another drink of water.

Carole rearranged the spears on the sheet. "Kurt is a teenager. I'm not denying that you too are close, but I'm saying that teenagers are teenagers. I didn't tell my father about my first boyfriend right away, either."

"How did that work out?"

"You've met Finn right?" She tried to stare at him passively, but broke into laughter at the look at his face. "Honey, I'm kidding!"

"That's not funny," he shook his head quickly.

"Blaine is going to come over. We're all going to love him. We're going to have what I hope is a delicious meal. Everyone will be happy." She stood in front of him and gave him a kiss. "Now go clean up. Dinner will be ready soon. And you need to be ready for Kurt's friend when he gets here." She gave him a playful smack on the butt and turned back to her cooking.

Burt sighed and emptied the bottle. He tossed it in the bin and headed back through the living room, narrowly avoiding Kurt as he backed up blindly, the couch in his hands.

"Turn counterclockwise," he heard Kurt say. "Counterclockwise. Your counterclockwise. Just pivot to the left, Finn! No, your left."

Shortly after after 6:30, the doorbell rang. Carole was in the kitchen finishing dinner. Burt and Finn sat in the living room, watching the end of a football game. Burt heard his son clambering up the stairs.

"I've got it, I've got it," he shouted. Burt and Finn didn't move to get up, eyes glued to the screen. "I've got it you guys."

He heard him stop, and then footsteps coming in their direction. Kurt popped into the living room. He pointed a finger at them. "Be nice." He glowered.

Both Finn and Burt raised their hands in confused defense, but Kurt was already heading to the front door. Burt heard the door swing open. "Hey, Blaine." Burt closed his eyes. The tone of his son's voice had completely changed. He knew it. He opened his eyes and glanced at Finn, who had apparently heard it too and was suppressing a grin.

Kurt and – Burt could only assume – Blaine entered the living room. He was shorter than Kurt, which Burt hadn't expected. He then, for some reason, felt guilty for assuming Blaine would be taller. The boy still had his coat on, but pulled the scarf from around his neck.

"Blaine this is my father, Burt Hummel."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hummel." Blaine reached out his hand, and Burt pushed himself out of his chair. "Oh, you don't need to get up on my account, sir." But Burt was already standing and clasping Blaine's hand in his own.

He pleasantly surprised by the firmness with which Blaine shook back. "You must be Blaine... um..."

"Anderson. Yes, sir." He let go of Burt's hand, balling up his scarf and stuffing it in a pocket of his jacket.

"It's nice to meet you, Blaine. And you can stop with the 'sir' stuff. Burt's fine." He sat back down.

Blaine smiled and nodded. "Noted."

Kurt was getting fidgety. "You remember Finn?" He gestured to his step-brother.

"Of course. From sectionals. How's it going?"

Finn raised a hand in acknowledgment, but didn't look up. "S'all right. You?"

"I'm okay."

Kurt gently tugged on Blaine's sleeve. "Carole's in the kitchen." He stepped in front of Blaine and motioned for him to follow. Halfway through the living room, Blaine glanced at the TV and stopped.

"Is this the Raider's game?"

Both Finn and Burt looked up, surprised. Blaine was looking at the television and didn't notice. "Yeah, it is," Finn answered.

"Who's winning? I couldn't find it on the radio on the way over here."

"Tennessee."

"Really? Well, color me surprised." He went into the kitchen.

As soon as he was gone, Finn turned to Burt and raised his eyebrows, smirking. From the kitchen, they heard the two boys and Carole laughing.

Blaine wiped his mouth and returned the napkin to his lap. He sighed contentedly and leaned back in his chair. "Carole, that salmon was fantastic."

She smiled, pleased. "Thank you, Blaine. I'm glad you liked. One of the girls at work gave me the recipe."

"It was delicious," Kurt assured her, resting his fork on his plate. Finn shoveled a spoonful of his third helping of rice into his mouth and nodded in agreement.

"Well there's a game on, so if you guys will excuse me." Burt got up from his chair and picked up his plates to bring into kitchen.

"Oh, I've got that honey." Carole stood and held out her hands. "You go relax. It won't take a minute and I'll be right in."

Burt crossed behind the table to give Carole the dishes, and noticed Kurt had his hand on Blaine's knee. Burt stopped in front of his wife and gave her a pained look. She smiled at him. "Go sit and relax," she said, pecking him on the lips.

Finn quickly shoveled the rest of his food into his mouth and balanced his plate and glass on the one's already in his mom's hands and hurried into the living room.

Blaine looked up. "Do you need a hand with cleaning up?"

"Oh that's sweet of you, but I'll be alright. Why don't you go and watch the game?"

"C'mon, Blaine." Kurt and Blaine stood up, pushed in their chairs, and followed after Finn.

Burt stood with his hands limp at his sides. "I can't do this." He looked helplessly at Carole.

She laughed and tilted her head. "You're doing fine. You haven't broken anything, and during dinner you hardly choked on your food when you heard Kurt giggling. Now go watch your game. I'm going to load the dishwasher." She turned and headed into the kitchen.

Burt grabbed the rest of his drink and headed into the living room. Finn was sitting in the recliner, Kurt and Blaine on the couch. He walked in front of them and sat down in the chair, setting a can of soda on the end table. The basketball game was already on.

"So who's playing?"

"Kansas and Baylor." Finn released the footrest of his chair and sprawled out. Blaine nodded his understanding.

"Did you hear about the UCONN girls?"

Burt glanced at him. "I don't watch too much of woman's sports."

"Oh well, I didn't know if you heard about how they beat the record for consecutive wins a few games back. For both men's and women's college basketball."

"I heard about that," Finn piped up. He was watching the game, but turned to the other boys. "The record before that was held by... uh..."

"UCLA. With eighty-eight wins."

"Wow," Burt muttered, seemingly impressed.

Kurt smiled at his father, then looked at Blaine. "I didn't know you were into basketball, too."

"Well, there's not much on during the cold months. Regular TV and sports. I might watch a bit here and there. There's only so much figure skating at a time that I can take." Kurt laughed and Finn smiled. Kurt chanced a glance at Burt. He stared stonily at the TV.

Kurt returned his attention back to Blaine. "Maybe you can come to one of Finn's games. He plays basketball during the winter."

Blaine turned to Finn. "Really? What position are you?"

"Point."

The other boy looked confused. "Aren't you a little tall? For point?"

Finn made a face. "Yeah." He turned back to the television. "We're uh... we're not very good."

They watched the game in silence for a bit, with Burt, Finn and Blaine yelling at the screen periodically. Kurt had no idea what exactly their team was doing wrong, and stayed quiet.

Blaine leaned toward Kurt and Burt felt sweat form on the back of his neck. Blaine asked in a low tone, "Where's your restroom?" Burt's hands unclenched from the arms of his chair.

"Oh, it's just back down hall, towards the front door. On the left."

Blaine glanced at Finn and Burt. "Excuse me." He stood and walked out of the living room.

A few moments later, Burt glanced at his son. Kurt was facing him, elbows on the arm of the sofa, chin in his hands, looking at him.

"What?"

"Soooo?" Kurt rolled his eyes up and to the side.

"'Soooo' what?"

"What do you think of Blaine?"

"He seems okay." Burt grunted, and slumped lower in his chair.

"I like him," Finn chimed in. Kurt turned and the two boys smiled at each other.

Carole came into the living room and sat in the middle of the couch, next to Kurt. She had a book in her hands. "He seems like a very sweet boy, Kurt." She opened her book to a dog-eared page and smoothed out the corner. "And he is very good looking." She shoved him with her shoulder, grinning, then scooted to the other end of the sofa and began reading.

Kurt turned until his feet were curled beneath him on the sofa and leaned over until his elbows were on Burt's chair. "Hey, Dad."

"Hey, what?"

"I was wondering, since all that's going to happen here is us watching the basketball game, if Blaine and I could go to a movie. It's the last weekend it's playing around here."

"Hey!" Finn leaned forward in the chair. "I spent like an hour moving the living room around for us retiring, and you're not even going to use it?"

Kurt spun around so he was sitting on the arm of the sofa. "You can come with us, if you want, Finn." The other boy perked up. "It's called Burlesque. It's starring Cher."

Finn's face fell and he sat back. "Never mind."

"I'm not sure, Kurt..." Burt started, but Carole cut him off.

"Of course you can, sweetheart." Burt turned to her, cocking his head. But she ignored him. "It's just going to be a boring night in for us. You two go have fun."

Blaine stood in the doorway. "Oh, so we're going to the movies?"

"Yes!" Kurt jumped up from the couch. "Come on, it's going to start soon." He linked his arm with Blaine's and carried him off to his room.

Carole kept her head down, still reading. "Yes, dear?"

"It's family dinner night."

"And we ate our family dinner. And now we're just going to be lounging around the house until we fall asleep." She looked at him and smiled sympathetically. "I know you think that now he's going to be off with Blaine all the time and you'll never see him again."

"I never said that." This time both Finn and Carole shot him a look.

"He's just... excited, about Blaine. He'll cool off soon. And you're lucky that Kurt's boyfriend is so..." she paused, searching for the right word, "polite. He could have brought home a Hell's Angel or something."

Burt sat in silence, drumming his fingers on his legs. "I think I'm going to talk with Blaine. Make sure he's on the level." He stood and headed out of the living room.

"I locked the gun cabinet, so you'll have to choose a different intimidation tactic besides cleaning your rifle in front of him." Carole smiled to herself and turned the page of her book.

Burt opened the door to Kurt's room and paused at the top of the steps. Downstairs he heard Blaine say something he couldn't make out, and then Kurt's soft laughter. It was followed by the unmistakable silence of kissing. Burt clomped as noisily as he could down the stairs. He turned to walk down the last few steps and saw Kurt and Blaine looking away from each other, both of them smiling at the floor.

"The movie starts in forty-five minutes, so we've got to get going," Kurt said to his father, shrugging into his coat. "I'll give you a call when we're on our way back."

"Kurt, why don't you run upstairs; say goodbye to Finn and Carole. I need to talk to Blaine for a minute. We'll be right up."

His son stood there, eyes wide. Any color he had drained from his face. Kurt shook his head almost imperceptibly. Dad, no he mouthed.

Blaine touched Kurt's arm. "It's fine. I'll see you upstairs in a few minutes." Kurt looked at Blaine, still mortified, but picked his phone up from his dresser and headed to the door. He flashed his father a meaningful look before climbing the stairs.

Burt paused, and sighed. "I was a teenager once, too, Blaine..."

"Oh. My. God."

"I said go say goodbye to Carole, Kurt." Burt turned towards the top the staircase. The door slammed. He looked back to Blaine, who looked back at him, hands in his pockets.

"Like I was saying, I was a teenage boy once, too, Blaine. Uh, obviously. And I know what teenage boys get up to with their, you know, girlfriends. And I... I assume it's similar when it's, um, two guys." This was way more awkward than Burt anticipated. "There are. Urges." He grimaced. "I guess."

Blaine nodded, understanding. "You're wondering what my intentions with your son might be." It wasn't a question.

Burt waited for Blaine to smirk at him, for his face to fill with sarcasm. But he saw that the boy was serious.

"Well, I don't want to go that far. I think it's a safe bet to say that I have a pretty good idea of what your intentions are." He felt some of the color leave his face. "I just... want what's best for Kurt. But to be honest, I don't really know what that is right now. I don't know, maybe that's what you are."

Blaine shoved his hands farther down in his pockets and dug a toe into the carpet. Burt realized that for the first time all night, Blaine was unsure of what to say.

"If we're being honest Mr. Hummel, uh, Burt; I really like your son. A lot. I don't know if Kurt told you about the first time we met but it was pretty much instantaneous for me." Blaine smiled, almost to himself. "But knowing Kurt, I don't think he even realized. Anyway, I just... like it when he's happy." He tilted his head as if asking Burt if he knew what he meant, so Burt nodded. "I really like the way Kurt makes me feel when I'm with him, but I love it when he's happy." He looked up, chewing gently on his bottom lip.

Burt sized him up. "I think you'll be good for Kurt, but I'm not one hundred percent on that. No offense to you." He pursed his lips. "I think maybe I'm still worried about the Karofsky kid and that whole... situation there." Blaine's eyes flashed. "Kurt told you about that?"

"He filled me in on a few details."

"Good, then you probably know how scared he was. I'm going to give you some of the responsibility of making sure he isn't a situation like that again. Karofsky coming after him or vice versa. Kurt would take on the world by himself if you let him. But I think you've got a pretty good head on your shoulders."

Blaine shifted from foot to foot, apparently made uncomfortable by the praise. "Thank you."

Burt held out his hand, and Blaine took it. "Okay then. I'm glad we're on the same page." He let go of Blaine's hand. He jerked his head toward the stairs. "Come on. Kurt probably has a glass to the door trying to listen in on us." Blaine smiled and hurried up the stairs, with Burt following behind him.

They opened the door and saw that both Kurt and Carole were waiting for them, both looking guilty.

Kurt raised his eyebrows at his father. "That was an incredibly long few minutes." He turned to Blaine, who was wrapping his scarf around his neck. "Are you all set?"

"Indeed, I am." Any confidence he'd lost downstairs returned to him immediately. He turned to Carole. "Thank you so much for dinner."

She held out her arms and gathered Blaine into a hug. "It was our pleasure, dear. You are welcome here any time, understand?"

Blaine stepped out of the embrace and smiled. "Understood." He tilted his head toward the living room and called out, "Goodbye, Finn!"

"Bye!"

Kurt was by the door, nearly bouncing up and down. Blaine strolled over to him. "Goodbye, guys. I love you both." Kurt waved, and Blaine smiled at them. He reached around Kurt and opened the door, placing a hand on his back to guide the younger boy through first, then closed the door quickly behind them.

Almost immediately, Burt was at the front door, looking out the side window. Halfway across the lawn, Kurt reached out and grabbed Blaine's hand. Blaine looked at Kurt and said something, making them both laugh.

Carole came up next to him, tapping the edge of a drinking glass against her palm. "Look at how happy he is."

In front of Blaine's car, instead of parting, Kurt tugged on Blaine's arm, pulling him close. He brought their faces together for a kiss, then laughed when Blaine broke away and nervously glanced at the house. They let go of each others hands. Kurt practically skipped to the passenger side of the car.

"I know," Burt sighed. "I love it."