Blaine hasn't seen Kurt in weeks.

They text on and off, trying to make plans, but one of them always begs off with a thinly veiled excuse.

Blaine: Coffee Friday?

Kurt: Can't, meeting about new store opening. Lunch Saturday?

Blaine: I've got a draft of the new score I need to finish.

Kurt: Ok, guess we'll try for next week.

Only it's the same the next week, and the week after, and the week after that, until the texts are sporadic until they drop off completely.

Blaine has taken up jogging through the park with Santana on Saturday mornings to keep his head clear, but mostly to ask her for more detailed updates about Kurt, since he knows Brittany's been hanging around him a lot with the impending wedding.

"Has he said anything about bringing a date to the wedding?" He asks one crisp November morning.

Santana purses her lips. "I don't think so. Why don't you ask him yourself, Hobbit?"

Blaine shakes his head. "We haven't really been talking lately," he says, trying to keep his tone even.

The only sound for a few minutes is the dull crunch of leaves beneath their feet, and Blaine thinks Santana is going to leave it alone. She doesn't.

"Is this because of that time you idiots finally did it?"

Blaine doesn't reply as he dodges a woman with a stroller jogging in the other direction.

"I knew it!" She crows, speeding up a few steps so she can jog backwards and fix Blaine with a triumphant look.

Blaine rolls his eyes. "It was different for him. Too many feelings. We had to cut it off before things got weird."

Santana raises an eyebrow and falls back into step beside him. "So what, you felt nothing?"

Blaine shrugs to stop himself from lying outright.

"I call bullshit, Anderson."

Blaine doesn't answer.

"Fuck. I knew it."

Kurt was becoming more and more aware of his colossal idiocy as each day went by with another unreturned phone call to Blaine. Most of his reluctance to spend any time with his best friend was due to the unrelenting feeling that Blaine had been right all along; they just couldn't be friends. Every time a text from Blaine came through, Kurt's stomach dropped a little like he'd swallowed a lead weight, and he had to be quick on his feet to come up with a believable excuse for cancelling. Again. Though he suspected Blaine was doing the same thing to him, since he got similar responses on the rare occasion he initiated contact.

Weeks went by and the only times they saw each other were at gatherings of mutual friends, and even then, they tended to skirt away from each other and look away if they happened to catch each other's gazes. Thankfully, Brittany and Santana's wedding was fast approaching, and Brittany was beginning to need all the help she could get, which gave Kurt the distraction he so desperately needed.

Originally, Kurt had planned to make her dress himself, but soon after their engagement, his boss had asked him to manage a new branch of his fashion house, and he had been too busy with work to spend his few free hours working on something as time consuming as a wedding dress. Brittany had settled with bringing him along to countless bridal boutiques to get his professional opinion, but he hadn't been able to be there on the day that she had picked her dress.

Now he finds himself surrounded by tulle and white silk as Brittany slips the dress on behind a curtain for her final fitting. He hasn't seen the dress at all yet, and he's hoping that his good taste has rubbed off on Brittany.

"Do you know if Blaine's bringing anyone to the wedding?" He asks, struggling to keep his tone as nonchalant as possible.

Brittany's shadow shrugs behind the curtain. "Not that I've heard. Santana might know better than I do. I think he broke up with that last guy he was hanging around with."

Kurt's head snaps up, not bothering to be casual since Brittany can't see him. "Last guy?"

Brittany steps out from behind the curtain and up onto a raised platform in front of a three-way mirror. "Yeah, some blonde guy. Tall, muscular. Your average nightmare." She reaches up to help her seamstress settle the veil into place. "Well? What do you think?"

The dress is perfect. It's pearly white with a skirt that poufs just enough to be regal rather than obnoxious and lace detailing covering the short sleeves and laying over the skirt. Kurt is mildly surprised that she's found something so gorgeous on her own, especially after insisting how much she needed his help. He presses the palm of his hand to his chest. "Oh, Brit," he breathes, surprised to feel tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

Brittany rolls her eyes as she looks at her reflection. "Really. Be brutal."

Kurt shakes his head. "No, really. It's beautiful." He sniffs and presses at his eyes to stop the tears from falling.

It's not just Brittany, he realizes, even though she's his best friend and she looks absolutely gorgeous. As his throat continues to choke with emotion, he's thinking of Adam and Eli and how they both found their own happy endings, and of course, he's thinking of Blaine. In just a few short weeks, he's going to have to stand across from Blaine, who will undoubtedly be looking unfairly beautiful in a tux, as their best friends get married. Kurt is dreading the inevitable way their eyes will be drawn to each other. He's afraid of what he'll see looking back at him. After weeks of avoidance, he's come to terms with the fact that he has genuine feelings for Blaine, even though he's not quite sure what to do with them. Kurt can't be sure about Blaine. He doesn't know if he feels the same way, and if the way things ended between them is any indication, Blaine had thought that their time together was nothing but a one night stand. Then again, there had been something in the earnestness in Blaine's eyes that night and the tender way they had looked at each other that made a flicker of hope flash in Kurt's chest.

But Kurt just couldn't be sure, and as Brittany turns around and smiles at him sadly like she can read his thoughts, he's certain he never will be.

"Do you have the rings?"

Blaine snaps out of his spiraling thoughts at his cue, smiling as he holds out the thin, white-gold wedding band for Santana. She winks at him as she takes it before turning back to her soon to be wife. Across from him, Blaine watches as Kurt does the same for Brittany, sharing a nose scrunching smile with her before she turns away. Blaine doesn't look away fast enough, and Kurt's eyes catch on his when he looks away from Brittany. Kurt holds his gaze for a moment and flashes him a flat smile before giving his attention back to the priest. Blaine suppresses a sigh as he does the same.

He'd been afraid of this. The wedding had snuck up on him, so quickly that he had forgotten to find a date and remember that he'd have to see Kurt. And Kurt was looking particularly gorgeous in his midnight blue fitted tux that accentuated the long lines of his body and brought out the color of his eyes. Blaine was dressed similarly, but in black, and he doubted that his getup did as many incredible things for him as it did for Kurt.

He was beginning to think that he'd made a mistake. Maybe he still wasn't ready for a serious relationship, but walking out on Kurt so soon after they'd slept together had been rude and uncalled for. Kurt deserved so much better than that.

Blaine glances up at Kurt again, who's still watching as the priest declares Brittany and Santana wives, and remembers to smile and clap as the two of them kiss. Kurt is grinning, the expression lighting up his face beautifully, and Blaine can't look away.

There's too much alcohol at the reception, but that's to be expected when Santana had anything to do with the planning. Blaine's on his fourth glass of champagne when he notices Kurt standing at the edge of the dance floor, smiling vaguely at the couples swaying back and forth to a Diana Krall song. Blaine walks over and stands at Kurt's side for a moment before Kurt notices him, the smile slipping from his face immediately. He holds his mouth in a tight line as he turns back to the dance floor, every muscle in his body tense and rigid.

Blaine can read the signs clearly, but that doesn't stop him from pushing. "Hey," he says brightly.

Kurt doesn't look at him. "Hey." His response is flat and toneless.

A slip of champagne for courage, and, "How've you been?" Blaine knows it's a loaded question. That's why he asks.

Finally, Kurt turns on him with a wild look in his eyes and an angry flush creeping up his neck. "How have I been? Does that even matter to you anymore?"

Unfazed, Blaine stares back steadily. "That doesn't answer my question."

Kurt's eyes steel over and he snaps his mouth shut. "Fine," he spits.

"Are you seeing anyone?" Blaine knows he's pressing buttons now, but he can't bring himself to stop.

"Blaine," he says curtly, "I don't want to talk about this."

Blaine shrugs. "Why not?"

Kurt turns on his heel and starts to walk away, speaking over his shoulder at Blaine trailing after him. "Because I don't."

"Why can't we get past this?" Blaine asks, allowing some exasperation to escape into the question. Maybe he doesn't want any romantic attachment, but he does want his best friend back.

Kurt stops suddenly and turns sharply around. "Because it just happened!"

Blaine rolls his eyes. "Three weeks ago."

"Exactly!" Kurt starts walking again, stopping just outside the kitchen of the reception hall. He crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows, waiting for Blaine's response.

"We both agreed it was a mistake," he protests, trying to placate Kurt.

Kurt shakes his head. "I don't know why it's so hard for you to let it mean something."

Now it's Blaine's turn to get angry. "Of course it meant something!" he says, his voice rising. "But you keep acting like it meant everything!"

"Because it did!" Kurt shoots back, turning again and striding through the double doors into the kitchen. The caterers gape at them as they stare each other down.

Blaine can feel the sting of Kurt's words, and he searches for his own that will hurt just as much. "Just for the record, I did not go over there to make love to you that night," he starts. Kurt's eyes go wide. "But you just kept looking up at me with those sad eyes and your 'Don't go home yet, Blaine' and 'hold me a little longer, Blaine'. What the hell was I supposed to do?" Blaine's breathing hard, his face hot, and he feels a twinge in his gut as he watches his words hit home.

Kurt's face shifts from anger to disbelief. "So it was a pity fuck," he says, seeming to be talking to himself. His brow furrows as he looks back at Blaine and waits for him to deny it. He doesn't. "You asshole." He growls.

And before Blaine can even process what's happening, Kurt's hand is connecting with his face with a stinging slap. Shocked tears prick at his eyes as he cradles his cheek and looks up at Kurt in disbelief. "You..."

Kurt's walking out before he can finish without sparing a second glance at Blaine. Blaine follows him out, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that his best friend just slapped the shit out of him.

As he bursts out of the kitchen to catch up to Kurt, he notices Brittany and Santana on stage in front of the band. Brittany is smiling as Santana thanks the guests and caterers and planners, then takes the microphone for herself. "And last but not least, a huge thank you to our best men, who not only kept us sane over the past few weeks, but are the reason we met in the first place. To Kurt and Blaine!" She gestures over at them, and a spotlight falls on the two as the crowd around them applauds and smiles.

Kurt manages a robotic smile and a little bow at the recognition, but all Blaine can bring himself to do is smile flatly and nod, the echo of Kurt's slap still ringing in his ears.