"Could you believe Mr. Schue today? For someone who runs a glee club, he has no taste in music whatsoever!"

Mr. Anderson looked up from his papers, startled, as Blaine and Kurt came bounding into the house. He had been working from home today and had lost track of time.

"Aw, it wasn't that bad, Kurt." Blaine teased, dropping his coat on the bench in the foyer. "You just gotta give some of that older music a chance... Hey Dad." Their jovial banter suddenly halted at the sight of the adult.

"Uh, hi Mr. Anderson." Kurt had never figured out how to not act awkward around Blaine's dad. Truth be told, Mr. Anderson felt pretty awkward most of the time himself.

"You two are home early."

"Yeah a little, Mr. Schuster wanted to work with Finn and Puck on their duet for Sectionals so he let the rest of us out. Kurt and I were going to order Chinese and study for our history test... I mean, uh, if that's okay."

Mr. Anderson nodded disinterestedly and went back to his work. Blaine pulled his wallet out of his bag and nudged his boyfriend into the kitchen to find the take out menus. After a long debate about the many possible order combinations, they settled on sweet and sour chicken with vegetable fried rice, counted out their cash and left it on the island near the phone to wait for it to arrive.

Mr. Anderson looked up again when he heard Blaine laughing at something Kurt said from the kitchen. He smiled at that- it was nice to hear. He knew he ought to make more of an effort to make Kurt feel welcome. It wasn't really that their relationship bothered him so much. He kind of enjoyed seeing the glow his son had whenever Kurt was around. As strict as Mr. Anderson was with Blaine, and as much as they didn't see eye to eye sometimes, he wanted him to be happy. He had never expected to have a gay son, but he didn't hate him for it. He knew it was a cruel world though, and from the moment Blaine came out he was plagued with concern for his safety. Secretly, he had hoped it was all a phase he would grow out of, and never more so than after the incident at the school dance that had led to enrolling Blaine at Dalton. The image of his son that night, so small as an eighth grader, sporting a black eye and a chipped tooth, was not something he was going to forget anytime soon. He had never felt like such a failure of a father in his whole life. He had so many regrets after that. He should have pushed Blaine to take self defense classes sooner. He shouldn't have let him go to that dance with another boy. He'd babied Blaine too much when he was younger, and it had left him vulnerable. There just was no rulebook in parenting and he kicked himself for all the things he knew he should have done differently, in hindsight. If Blaine was going to be gay, he was going to have be able to take care of himself. Mr. Anderson was proud that Blaine had taken up boxing, and that he had gotten up the nerve to return to public school. He had blossomed at Dalton and grown from a scared little boy into a pretty confident young man, and this time Blaine would be stronger and smarter about things. And his father would be watching more closely as well.

Thinking on this, Mr. Anderson got up and went to the kitchen with the mail.

"The library police are after you, kid," he said playfully, tossing the opened letter to Blaine, who gasped.

"What? Oh! Sh-" Blaine voice stuttered to a halt when he saw his dad raise an eyebrow. "I- I mean, oh. I forgot." Blaine looked down and turned flush, but his dad was swallowing a grin. If library fines were the biggest transgression his kid had, he'd take it. At least he tried. "I'll take care of it tomorrow Dad."

"Gonna get expensive if you don't." Mr. Anderson said, pointedly- but not unkindly.

Blaine nodded apologetically and put the letter in the pocket of his notebook. "It's in my locker, I promise I'll return it after school, Dad."

"How's the studying coming, Kurt?" Kurt jumped a bit, caught off guard. He wasn't sure if Mr. Anderson had ever even called him by his name before.

"Uh... fine sir. Should be ready for tomorrow."

"Well. That's great." Mr. Anderson forced a smile. But Kurt and Blaine were not responding particularly warmly to Mr. Anderson's attempt at conversation. They made busy with their studying, which he took as a hint that they wanted to be left alone. Blaine, for his part, was always worried that if his grades went down at all his dad wouldn't let him study with Kurt anymore and assumed the intrusion was about checking up on them. His dad had never caught them making out together or anything (thank God), but his older brother had never been allowed to "study" with his girlfriends when he was in high school, so he wasn't about to push his luck.

"Did you... need something Dad?" Blaine asked, attempting to look really taken with a Venn Diagram in his notebook.

"Me? Oh no, just- checkin in." Blaine nodded and went back to his notes. Mr. Anderson wondered if anyone knew how to talk to teenagers. Resigned, he reached across the island to grab an apple from the fruit bowl when something sticking out from Blaine's open wallet there caught his eye. He put the apple down and examined it closer.

"Okay," Blaine said, excitedly handing his textbook over to Kurt. "Ask me anything about the French Revolution. I got this."

"Blaine. Gabriel. Anderson." The smile on Blaine's face faded at his dad's tone. Kurt gave him a quizzical look and they both turned to see Mr. Anderson, eyes narrowed, holding up something in his hand. "What. Is. This."

Blaine went pale.

It was the fake ID. That said he was 38.