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One thing Burt's always been able to do well is tiptoe. Kurt was sensitive to sounds, but, especially right after his wife died, Burt sometimes needed to see his son -- to know Kurt was still there. So there was no question that Burt could tiptoe with the best of them.
He got past Miranda, still sound asleep on the sofa, and down the stairs to the room that Finn and Kurt shared some weekends. He figured that Kurt might be willing to come with him to the grocery store to get breakfast fixings for the group, if he could figure out a way to wake Kurt quietly.
Burt pushed the door open silently and saw his son on the double air mattress with what he could only assume was his boyfriend. Kurt lay on his back with Blaine pillowed against his shoulder, dark curls showing starkly against the white of Kurt's t-shirt.
Part of him was outraged. He would have had Kurt or Blaine sleep in the living room with Miranda, if he'd known -- and why Finn allowed it is beyond him. Part of him saw his son in a new light -- masculine in a way he'd never considered before.
Kurt blinked and met his father's eyes. Burt motioned to him and watched as he eased his arm out from under his boyfriend, murmuring softly and kissing the other boy's forehead before grabbing slippers and a sweater to come talk to his dad.
"Breakfast run?"
"You up for it?"
"Sure, Dad."
"You could just make a list."
Kurt grinned. "And let you try to bring home bacon and pork sausage? No. Give me ten minutes to throw on some clothes. You can yell at me in the car."
Burt thought for a moment and then Kurt tilted his head toward the bed where Blaine was spread out in an x. "Yeah. That wasn't what I intended when I let you boys sleep down here."
Kurt pressed his father's hand. "Finn tried to object. Honestly, Dad, all we did was sleep beside each other."
"Wrapped in each other's arms," Burt thought, but didn't say. What he said was, "Sometimes that's more intimate than making out. And don't try to deny it. Those hickeys are pretty dark this morning."
Kurt blushed, but didn't look away. "I'll go get dressed and meet you at the car."
"All right. The snow stopped fairly early, so the roads should be fine."
When Kurt came back in, he grabbed several pieces of clothing from the previous night and headed into the bathroom. After a minute or so, he heard a soft knock at the door. He opened it a crack and saw Blaine carrying his jeans and let him in.
"I'm coming too," he said.
"You don't have to."
"I want to spend every minute I can with you. Besides, he's less likely to kill me in the car. He needs both hands on the wheel." Blaine smoothed shaving cream over his face and started to shave.
"I like you with stubble. It's hot."
"I'm about to be introduced to your dad as 'the boyfriend' -- clean cut is bound to be better."
"Probably." Kurt lathered his face and began shaving too.
Blaine brushed his teeth and went to put in his contacts. "Damn. One split."
Kurt grinned. "You looked really good in the glasses."
Blaine kissed his nose and grabbed his sweater, stopping when Kurt made a sound. "What is it, baby?"
"I won't accept 'baby' as a term of endearment," Kurt sniffed. "But when I thought you were still asleep, I was going to wear your sweater."
"Oh." Blaine pulled a pale green henley out of his sweater. "I think this goes with the cardigan you were wearing yesterday?"
Kurt nodded.
"See you upstairs, darlin'."
As the door closed, Kurt hissed, "I'm not sure that's any better."
***
Burt was surprised to see Blaine come up the stairs.
"I hope you don't mind if I join you, Mister Hummel."
"No, of course not." He looked at the sweater the kid was wearing and thought that Kurt had one like it. Then Kurt came up the stairs in an Irish fisherman's sweater that Burt knew for a fact was the kind of thing his son usually wouldn't be caught dead in -- though he actually thought it looked good on Kurt. He closed his eyes as it registered that they'd exchanged clothes.
Kurt handed Blaine a scarf -- which Burt realized would cover up his hickeys -- and said, "It's cold out there."
"So it is."
Burt grabbed his keys from the hook by the door, and they all went out quietly.
The ride to the grocery store was uneventful. Kurt took the front seat and made a list of things they needed. Burt kept looking at Blaine in the rearview mirror. Finally, he said, "Last I heard you were 'just a friend.' When did that change?"
"Dad."
"Last night, sir. At the beginning of the party, my friends embarrassed me. His friends embarrassed him. It seemed we had a lot in common."
Kurt giggled at that, and his father glanced at him. He hadn't heard that sound in awhile.
"You should have told me about the status change before you went downstairs," he said to Kurt.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you."
Burt cocked an eyebrow.
"All right, I'm not sorry that I got to sleep with Blaine -- platonically -- but I am sorry that I lied by ommission."
"It's not the worst thing a teenager's ever done." Burt pulled into a parking space and said, "I'll buy us all coffee at the doughnut shop and let you plan the attack."
"Thank you, sir."
"It's Burt." He let Kurt wander ahead a little before saying quietly, "You don't get to hurt him."
"I hope I never will."
Burt nodded, and they caught up.
***
Twenty minutes later, after a protracted negotiation about whether Burt could have eggs AND sausage AND pancakes, a compromise was reached. Burt sent Blaine to grab another dozen eggs, Kurt went to grab the right kind of buckwheat flour, and Burt was debating whether to get more of the all-fruit jam or indulge Kurt's taste for real maple syrup when he heard a clatter from another aisle. He thought someone had hit the cranberry sauce display with their cart until he heard Kurt's voice call, "Blaine, Dad."
When he arrived, at the same time as Blaine, he saw Kurt was looking pale and shaken against one side of the aisle. The Karofsky boy doubled over in pain holding his groin, and Sue Sylvester was standing over him.
"I gotta say, Porcelain, I'm disappointed in you. If you'd still been on the Cheerios, your high kick would have caused him to disgorge his testicles from his mouth allowing you to bronze them for cufflinks."
Kurt seemed to stand a little straighter. "I never wear tacky jewelry, Coach."
Blaine looked at Karofsky, doubled over, and at the tall blonde woman in the tracksuit and took Kurt's hand. "What happened," he murmured.
"I take it Pippin here is your boyfriend?" Coach Sylvester focussed directly on Blaine. "Surely you can do better than a myopic hobbit."
"Actually, I'm farsighted."
Coach Sylvester straightened and then leaned into Blaine's personal space. "Are you fierce enough to stand up to Kurt?"
"Small things have to be fierce to survive," Blaine said swallowing hard.
She turned to Kurt with a genuine hint of a smile. "I think he'll do, Porcelain."
"And you can stop calling my boyfriend that derogatory name."
Sue looked back at him, surprised.
Kurt said, "She let me choose my nickname."
"Why do you think 'Porcelain' was on the list?"
Kurt's smile matched hers, "Because if it's fired right, porcelain is stronger than steel."
"That and you have wonderfully delicate skin."
A manager and a security guard came up and Sue Sylvester took over. "Mister Karofsky here, slipped and fell…" she hauled him to his feet, "and I was just explaining how clumsiness could cost him a place on the football team." She winked at Kurt who grabbed his buckwheat flour and went with Blaine to join his dad.
They paid and got out of the store quickly.
***
Kurt said, "Let me drive, Dad. I'll tell you both everything."
"The roads are still slick."
"But I think you're going to get mad, and I need you not to be driving when you're angry."
Burt looked at his son, and then shot a look at Blaine who shrugged. He handed Kurt the keys and put the groceries in the car.
Once they got on the road, Kurt started talking quietly. "The bullying got worse right after your heart attack, Dad. I don't know why -- maybe I reacted more. Maybe it was because Azimio was out, but instead of the usual round of slushies and the occasional toss in a dumpster, Karofsky started body checking me into the lockers. It's not like they hadn't done it before, but this was every time Karofsky saw me -- and it was hard. I didn't used to be bruised all that often from it."
"All that often," Burt said. "How often had it been going on before?"
"Body checked into lockers? Maybe once or twice a week, could have been less. They did it to Tina and me when we were doing the Gaga assignment, and I yelled at them for picking on a girl. It got a little more frequent after that, and they were really teasing Finn about our moving in together, too. That's why he was so… and I did have a crush on him and if I made him feel even half as bad as Karofsky's made me feel…"
"Pull into the Wal-mart lot and park. I'm confused."
"Sure, Dad." Kurt looked like he'd rather face a firing squad, but he complied.
Once they were situated, Kurt turned in the driver's seat to face his Dad, and Blaine reached for his hand over the back of the seat.
Burt looked at both boys. "You've just told me there was a 'usual round of slushies.' Now, I know you had some weird laundry problems your freshman year, but how often did this happen. Why didn't I know about it?"
"Last year, slushies were nearly daily, at least until the glee club won at sectionals. They tapered off a bit, but could come back any time. Being on the Cheerios helped later in the year."
Burt nodded at the matter of fact recitation.
Blaine said, "Dumpsters, really?"
"Yeah. It hurt more when they were empty, but usually involved lower dry cleaning bills. Unlike Artie, I was never porta-pottied, though I helped him out of one after it happened."
Burt's and Blaine's eyes met grimly.
"See the thing that keeps sticking in my head, is what about being body checked into lockers makes you think of what happened with you and Finn last year. Because you weren't physically big enough last year to make a dent on him."
Kurt swallowed. "After I met Blaine…"
"I told him that he needed to stand up to the bullies because they were just ignorant. If I'd had any concept of how bad the bullying was, I wouldn't have suggested anything so stupid." Blaine thought for a second, then added, "Actually, if I'd realized how strong Kurt was, I wouldn't have presumed to tell him how to handle things. I saw the vulnerability, not the strength."
"Nothing wrong with standing up for yourself," Burt said.
"Karofsky knocked my phone out of my hand and slammed me into a locker and I just lost it, Dad. I chased after him and yelled. I said some nasty things, because, yes, I have a way with words, but it felt so good to finally, finally just snap. He had his fist near my face, and I said something about he couldn't beat the gay out of me any more than I could beat the ignoramus out of him… he kissed me. And when he tried to do it again, I pushed him away."
"You're telling me Dave Karofsky is gay?"
Kurt shrugged. "I don't know, Dad. Questioning, definitely. Attracted to me, I think so. It might just be about power, but he sounded so broken. All I know is, I still feel his tongue in my mouth when I talk about it." He looked ready to throw up.
Blaine asked, "And today?"
"My worst nightmare. He grabbed me from behind, said something about the way I was bent over in my ear. I tried to get away, but he pulled me closer -- and I felt his… him. So, I turned around and kneed him as hard as I could. It was instinctive." He turned to Blaine. "I'm not afraid of sex or anything."
Blaine squeezed his hand. "So not a conversation I want to have in front of your father, sweetheart."
Kurt nodded thoughtfully. "Sweetheart's livable."
"You knew about the kiss?" Burt asked Blaine.
"Yes, sir. I thought you did, too -- that it was why you transferred Kurt to Dalton. I hadn't known about the death threat."
Burt nodded and turned to Kurt. "What I don't understand is why you didn't tell me about the kiss, about the death threat -- hell, about the slushies."
"My life hadn't changed, Dad. It was just a matter of degree."
Blaine noticed how apologetic Kurt looked as he said it and saw Burt's eyes cloud over.
He said, "They stopped calling me 'sissy' in about second grade, but I started getting 'fag' and 'you look gay' within a year. I got 'pantywaist' once, but I had to look it up. I mean, I knew from context, but…"
Kurt looked relieved. "Everyone thought I'd want to play Frank when we did Rocky Horror. I didn't even like showing my arms when I was a Cheerio, but they just thought the gay guy would want to crossdress in fishnets and a jock strap. I don't think I've heard 'sissy' since I got to high school, but with my lisp it definitely stayed around longer. How old were you the first time you were called a cocksucker?"
"Fourteen." Blaine winced at the memory. "When I came out to my folks. My dad." Kurt squeezed his hand in sympathy.
Burt shot him a look. "Your father?"
"I'm not as lucky as Kurt," he said.
"They're probably waiting for breakfast, son. Why don't we go home?"
"Dad?"
"I should've known," was all Burt said.