Author's notes: This is a sequel, so if you haven't read Gotten, go read it first.

I'm sorry I made you all wait so long for the sequel – what can I say… it was plot bunny season. But now the journey is starting.

Let's discuss the plan: this is a WIP, which is unusual for me, but there's a reason: this won't really be a continuous story, but a series of one-shots, kind of snapshots from important moments of Kurt and Blaine's life together. And because of that, I'll only be posting once a week, always on Thursdays. If you know me, you know that I deliver what I promise :) The series has a potential to be long – around 20 installments, maybe? We shall see.

The general rating is NC-17, but it may vary from chapter to chapter, as well as the genre, although most of them will be quite fluffy. Like Gotten, it's written in 1st person, from Blaine's POV.

Okay, enough talking. Let's start.


I know I shouldn't be anxious. There's nothing to be anxious about, no reason to feel like I do before a very important exam. But I can't help it; it is a very important exam, even if there are no teachers or grades, or required material, and I've graduated a long time ago.

Kurt looks at me with amused eyes every time I start to fidget in my seat on the plane, soothing again and again.

"Blaine, relax. They will love you, they already do, you know that. They'll be happy to see you as my boyfriend."

Right. It's easy for him to say. He's not the one being introduced as a new boyfriend to his family; not today, anyway. And they have no idea, either – Kurt's kept our relationship to himself for the last month, choosing to tell them in person; they don't even know Kurt isn't coming alone. I've supported it, but right now I'm not so sure it was such a good thing. At least if he told them on the phone, they would have time to get used to the idea.

My hands are shaking a little as we sit in the bus terminal in Columbus, waiting for our connection to Lima. Kurt has just decided it's time to let his family know he's bringing company, and as he chooses the number in his phone, I feel like I'm going to puke. It's stupid, I know; I'm not fifteen, for heaven's sake. But I can't help it – Kurt is my future, I can't screw this up; this week has to be perfect. What if I'm not what – or rather, who – they want for Kurt? What if they see me as fit to be his best friend, but not his boyfriend, and his future husband? What if they don't want me to be part of their family? What if - ?

Kurt's voice shakes me out of the spiral of anxiety I'm falling into again.

"Dad, hi! I'm in Columbus, the bus will be here any minute. Or should I say, we're in Columbus – I'm bringing my boyfriend with me, I hope that's okay?"

I can just barely hear Burt's voice; I can't understand the words, but he doesn't sound happy. My stomach clenches, but Kurt doesn't look worried. In fact, he grins.

"No dad, it's not Marcus. I promise, it's someone new. I'm sure you'll love him."

The murmur in the speaker doesn't sound convinced, and Kurt winces a little.

"Yes, I remember I said so about Marcus too. I know. But this, he… he's different. You'll see." A short break, then. "No, good different, Dad. Really. Trust me. Okay, here's our bus. See you soon!"

We take our bags and we're on our way.

The ride passes way too fast. Before I have any chance to settle my nerves, we're in Lima, only a short walk away from Kurt's house. My legs feel weak; when we turn into his street, I have to stop to catch my breath, which is unreasonably short after such a leisurely stroll. Kurt squeezes my hand encouragingly.

"It will be perfect, Blaine. I promise. I love you, and so will my family."

I breathe deeply, and then we are on the porch and Kurt positions me to the side of the door, so that I'm not immediately noticeable from the entrance, before pushing the ring button. Burt opens the door a heartbeat later, a slightly wary expression on his face, and Kurt gathers him in a tight hug. When they part, Kurt reaches his hand to me and pulls me closer, so that his dad's eyes rest on me now, confused.

"Hi, Blaine, good to see you again, but… Kurt, you said you were bringing…" his eyes brighten suddenly, crinkling in a wide grin. A second later he turns towards the house, calling out. "Carole, come here please; you won't believe it! Finally!"

Before I know it, I'm being hugged hard by Kurt's dad. Carole is squealing like an excited teenage girl in the background. Soon, we're all seated at the kitchen table, with coffee and cinnamon rolls, and it feels like I'm already part of this family; like I've been for years – they're so genuinely happy for us. Burt shakes his head at us.

"Finally! I'd almost lost hope that you two would wake up one day and get together. It was just painful, watching you ever since high school, mooning over each other and never figuring it out. At least now I can be certain my boy won't get hurt again." He looks at me with earnest eyes. "There's no one I'd rather trust him with."

Kurt beams and kisses my cheek, and I try not to let them see the tears gathering in my eyes. It feels so good to be here like this, accepted and embraced by my lover's family, knowing I have their approval. It fixes some deep part of my heart I didn't realize was broken, where my own family always failed to provide just that – the simple safety of being accepted as I was, without reservations.

Burt grins.

"I think this calls for champagne after dinner, what do you say?"

I can't help but look pointedly at Kurt then. "Actually, there's one more reason for champagne."

Kurt swats my hand, trying to glare, but his effort is somewhat ruined halfway through by a wide smile.

"Oh, okay, there may be some more news I should share. Dad, Carole… I'm going back to school this year. And to the internship."

The cheering and hugs take a long time to fade away.

That night we lie in Kurt's old bed – there was never any question about us sleeping together. It was obvious to everyone that we will, and I still can't get over how easy and natural it all seems to Kurt's family. The whole gay thing, I mean. It's always shocked me just how different it was from my own home, where I was accepted – well, more like tolerated maybe – for what I was, but it was a visible effort. Here, they don't even think about it. It just is, as natural as the fact that Finn has a fiancée. And it feels wonderful, and feeds my stubborn, perhaps naïve hope that one day the whole world will see it like this. Small changes, one person, one family at a time.

The bed seems smaller than it used to, on those many days we spent here watching movies, reading, talking – even napping sometimes; but it still brings back so many warm, fond memories and emotions. And maybe a few fantasies.

Kurt's thoughts must have gone in the same direction because I hear him chuckling softly, his breath a hot puff against my neck.

"Oh, if this bed could talk…"

I raise my eyebrow, invisible in the dark.

"What would it say?"

"Too much for me not to consider burning it immediately."

"You mean dirty things?" I tease. "Mister Hummel, I'm shocked! Did you have some sort of kinky sex life in high school that I didn't know about, while I was busy pining over you from a distance?"

Kurt laughs, but I can practically feel him blush.

"No, silly. Did you forget how completely inexperienced and baby-penguin-like I used to be? I meant the more pathetic stories – all the times I cried here, the hours spent with sad songs, unhappy and depressed over the bullying and the loneliness, and the hopelessness of being the only out gay teenager in Lima. And all the days – and nights – dreaming about my crushes, oh god… Finn, Sam… Then you, ever since I met you, up until I met Marcus." His voice drifts off and I can't help teasing him some more.

"But you can't tell me it was all innocent, can you? I bet you got off here more than once. Maybe even thinking about me? Doing things to you…" I run my fingers lightly over Kurt's upper arm and he shivers, his cock rapidly hardening against the side of my thigh. Mm, interesting…

"I… I may have? But I was always trying not to, I mean… It seemed creepy and wrong to jerk off to thoughts of you. But sometimes I couldn't help it, you've just always been so hot, Blaine…" Kurt's voice is trembling slightly, a defensive note clearly audible there, but the hard pressure against my leg tells its own story. And my body is responding, too; the image of Kurt at 17, 18, 20, lying in this very bed, maybe half naked, his hand on his beautiful cock that I know so well now, trying to suppress his moans as he strokes himself, thinking about me – it's shooting straight to my groin.

I sit up and flick the small bedside lamp on, greedy for the sight of him. I know what I'll see and I'm not disappointed – the bed-messy hair, the eyes dark and sparkling, flush high on his cheeks; my favorite picture in the whole word. God, I love him.

"Show me," I whisper.

"What?" This is new and I can see Kurt's eyes widen even as his breathing accelerates involuntarily. I know it's a lot to ask – even after all this time Marcus still has some remnants of hold on him, still keeps him back. He's never fully comfortable saying what he wants, what he needs, intimately. All the more reason to try this.

"Show me how you did it back then – how you touched yourself. Tell me what you imagined. Please, Kurt."

I can see he's about to argue, but then his eyes catch the sight of the bulge straining my pants and he licks his lips; clearly, it convinces him more than my pleading.

"But… it's silly, I didn't even imagine much, I just… let my thoughts wander and -"

"I don't care, Kurt, please, just tell me what you thought about. I just… I did this too, you know? So many nights when I fantasized about you, all through high school and college. And knowing that you thought about me too, back then, it does things to me. So please."

The blush on Kurt's face is so hot he's almost glowing, but he nods and lies back comfortably, the comforter kicked down. His hand wanders slowly to the strip of naked skin where his t-shirt has ridden up and he closes his eyes, breathing deep steadying breaths.

"Okay. Usually I would just lie in the dark, trying to sleep when a memory of you would attack me – something you said, the timbre of your voice, your mouth, ugh, Blaine, your mouth… Or your eyes, the way you smile and they get all honey-colored, and they crinkle adorably. Or when you touched me sometimes - like, even on this bed - and I knew it didn't mean anything to you, your hand on my knee or my shoulder, or your hugs sometimes – I knew you were just being you, but the shivers I got from that, every time, the way your hand was always so warm, it made me feel hot all over…"

Kurt's hand is pushing the shirt up now, impatient, as he's smoothing it over his chest, breath stuttering when he flicks a nipple with his thumb. I'm mesmerized, I can't stop staring, my cock aching in its cotton prison. Kurt doesn't open his eyes. He keeps speaking, his voice low and quiet, and he probably doesn't even realize that he's started speaking in present tense, deeper in his fantasy now.

"And sometimes, no matter how much I try, the memory won't leave; it settles in my brain, my bones, and grows, and I can't control it, it's safe here in the dark, and nobody knows, nobody will ever know." Kurt is teasing his nipple now, his other hand ghosting over the outline of his cock over the pants, and he gasps. "So I let it come – the images of your hand holding mine, your lips shaped over my name, your hug tighter, longer. But soon I can almost feel your lips on mine, soft and perfect. Then you're kissing my neck," Kurt moves his fingertips over there, the other hand pushing his pajama bottoms down and I bite back a hungry whine when faced with Kurt's cock, hard and heavy against his abdomen. "And I can't help myself, it feels so good, it feels like you belong here – your lips, your hand in mine, on my back, my thigh, everywhere. And at first it's enough to get off on, just the shape of your perfect lips and the slide of your hand, and you telling me you want me, love me. But soon I want more." Kurt's breath is ragged now and he's swallowing his little moans, biting his lips, trying to be quiet, the way he had to be back then, his hand working over his cock, fast and rough. "I imagine your hand sliding higher up my thigh until it's right there, over my pants. Sometimes you kiss my stomach or even take off my shirt and just… touch. And then, later, in college, there are nights when I'm so desperate and hot and wanting, and I just need you, and then you're right there, pulling off my pants… oh god… and touching… touching me right there, stroking me… Blaine, yes, please… And sometimes, really rarely, you just… mmm… fuck, so close, so… Just touch me with your lips… please, Blaine, yes… your tongue, just… uhhh… just a kiss and…"

I can't stop myself. Without a word, I lean in and kiss the tip of Kurt's cock, swipe my tongue around the head just once. The movements of his hand are fast and chaotic and a second later he's coming all over my tongue, the excess spilling over my lips, trickling down my chin as I swallow eagerly and Kurt arches in a soundless cry, biting on his knuckles.

I'm almost on the edge myself, just from watching him, listening to him speak, and I'm ready to just finish myself off when Kurt's hand sneaks over and starts stroking me, steady and sure. His eyes are open, though still dazed, glorious green peeking out from the grey, and he whispers.

"Of course, all this never came even close to reality. You're so much more, so much better than I've ever imagined, Blaine, and I never want anyone else to touch me like this, ever. I only want you. I only love you, forever."

Under his skillful fingers I fall over the edge within seconds, happy and safe in his arms, in this bed, this room.

"We could have had it all, you know? We could have been happy together for years now, if we'd, I don't know… had more courage? Opened our eyes earlier? Gotten drunk and made out, and confessed out feelings?"

"Yeah, well, you tried that last one, except you ended up making out with Rachel Berry," Kurt chuckles fondly, the memory old enough not to sting anymore.

I groan. The shame is still there. "Please don't remind me."

We're on our way to my parents' house, overnight bags in the trunk of Burt's borrowed car. Kurt stretches in the passenger's seat and sighs contentedly.

"Well, we could have, I guess. We could have gotten together back in Dalton and been high school sweethearts. We would have gone to prom together, and maybe when I returned to McKinley, you could have followed me, to be together or to face your own demons. And we could both have been in New Directions, and had a great time, and won Nationals… But maybe it had to be like this, you know? Maybe we wouldn't have been ready then? Would have ended breaking up and never getting back together? Maybe we had to grow up to really appreciate each other?" He shrugs and I feel a warm wave of affection roll over me. "Anyway, I'm happy for what we have now, and I intend to do everything I can to make it last as long as we live."

We're almost there and I feel a slight pang of unease as I turn into the well-known driveway. My parents know I'll be coming with my new boyfriend, but just like Burt and Carole three days ago, they don't know who it is. I don't expect them to care – they didn't really with Danny, and we were together for years – but still, the uncomfortable feeling is there. They're my family. I want them to be happy for me. Plus, I never really know what to expect from them when it comes to my life choices. But they've known Kurt for years, and liked him well enough, I think. It should be fine.

It's anything but fine, of course.

I can see my mother stiffen and my father frown when I introduce Kurt as my boyfriend. I know that he notices it too – it would be obvious even if he wasn't long used to measuring and weighing people's reactions, an instinct to survive. It goes downhill from there.

"So how long have you two been together?" My mom's pouring wine for dinner. Her fake smile is so stiff it looks like it's about to crumble off.

Kurt smiles back and I can see he's trying, for my sake more than anyone else's.

"Just over a month."

"Oh, so it's nothing serious then?" It sounds very much like relief and the first pang of anger pushes through confusion in my head.

"Mom!" She raises her eyebrows, feigning innocence, and I make a point of laying my hand on Kurt's, right on the perfect white tablecloth between us. "Actually, it is serious. We've known each other so long that we don't need much time to know that this is it for us."

Her face grows serious. "Oh."

My dad butts in then, shrugging.

"Oh well, you said the same about that Danny boy. You were almost ready to marry him, we thought, and look where it ended. I don't think we have to worry about you getting into anything serious anytime soon."

I can feel my jaw drop. "Worry?"

Kurt is silent beside me, his face set into a neutrally pleasant expression, and they don't know how much it costs him to keep his calm now, but I do. He touches the napkin delicately to his lips, stands up from the table with a kind smile – as if nothing happened, as if he hadn't just been offended by his future parents-in-law.

"Please excuse me, I'll be right back."

The second he disappears behind a corner and the bathroom door squeak open, then closed, I explode.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You know Kurt, you've known him forever. I thought you liked him, for god's sake!"

They exchange glances and it's my mom who speaks.

"We do quite like him, honey – as your friend. I know you care about him, and he about you. But a boyfriend? He's just-"

"He's just too obvious, Blaine." My father doesn't even try to speak quietly and I cringe, knowing that Kurt probably hears every word. Anger bubbles in my chest and burns in my throat and for a second I feel like I ate hot coals, not my mother's specialty onion soup. Dad doesn't look moved. "Danny could have easily passed as straight. If you weren't standing too close, you could pass as just friends. Kurt… he registers as gay the second anyone looks; you can't hide it. Going anywhere with him, you'll be immediately suspected to be gay too, and this kind of information goes around fast, son. Soon everyone will know, at your work, the places you frequent, your apartment building, everywhere. It may make it harder for you to be promoted, to meet and befriend the right people-"

It takes a couple of seconds to understand, but when the initial shock passes, I interrupt him roughly, anger pouring out freely.

"You think I want to hide it? You think I will pretend I'm straight, that this beautiful, amazing man I live with isn't my boyfriend, and one day my fiancé, my husband? Father of my children?"

My mom exclaims weakly. "Now Blaine, no need to go so far-" but I don't care.

"Do you seriously think that we don't hold hands in the streets, don't dance in clubs together, don't kiss in public? We do. It's New York, Dad. And I am gay, whether you like it or not – and I can see that you're still not over it." I register movement out of the corner of my eye and look up to see Kurt standing in the dining room entrance, white as a sheet. Not losing steam, I finish angrily. "And it's good to know what you really think now. Thank you. I think we'll go now. I'll call you some time later, when we get back home."

I get up, almost knocking the chair over. As I take Kurt's hand and we go out the door, to the car where our bags are still waiting in the trunk, one thing hurts more than anything else.

My parents don't even try to stop us.

It feels strange when we say our goodbyes at the airport a few days later. On the one hand, I feel happy, accepted and loved – Burt and Carole made sure we both felt at home, and I couldn't ask for a better welcome to the family. They treated me as if I already was their son, like they were absolutely certain I'm here to stay, even though we haven't said a word about our plans for the future together. Finn dropped by for a day and showed just the same enthusiasm, honestly happy for us both. It was wonderful.

On the other hand, though, I feel a little like I've just been orphaned. No matter how hard I try, I can't swallow the bitter taste the visit in my family home has left in my mouth. I've apologized to Kurt over and over, until he told me to shut up and kissed me senseless, and promised he doesn't care about their opinion, just mine. But I know it's not true, I know he cares – if not for his own sake, then for mine.

My parents haven't even called me since we stormed out of their house and it hurts that they won't even try to be happy for me. I gained a new family, but I moved even farther from my own. And I'm still too overwhelmed to process it fully.

As we bid our last goodbyes and walk to the gate, Kurt's hand warm and sure in mine is the only thing I'm certain of, the only anchor in the world that had tilted a little on its axis these past few days. I hold on tight, never wanting to let go.