The first Sunday in December found one Kurt Hummel and one Blaine Anderson in their living room surrounded by papers, magazines, and flower arrangements.

“So like I said before, I really like the white roses, the ones with the dark blue ribbon. Luckily, there are a lot of greenhouses in New York, otherwise we would be flowerless.”

“I have never seen a person so happy about flowers.”

“I’m sorry. I just really love weddings. Plus, this one’s mine. Ours. I meant ours.”

“It is fine, Kurt. It is your wedding. I want you to be happy with it. Also, I was wondering where you would like to go for our honeymoon. I have some money saved and we could go somewhere for a few days.”

Kurt leaned against Blaine and smiled, “Someplace warm. I’ll deal with the sunburn; I just want to be warm.”

Blaine smiled back and rested his cheek on the top of Kurt’s head, “Then I will find someplace warm for you.”

Even after weeks of observation, Kurt still couldn’t figure out the strange relationship between Santana and Blaine.

“Why are you two dancing in the kitchen to a song I only recognize from I Love Lucy reruns?”

“Because apparently your boytoy can dance. This bodes well for your wedding reception.”

“Our dinner is burning though.”

“Lighten up, Kurt. We’ll just order Chinese food.”

“Why did you guys make me eat all that Chinese food?”

“Well if you had kept an eye on the food instead of dancing around like an idiot with Blaine, maybe we could’ve eaten something less greasy.”

“Leave her alone, Kurt. We were just having fun.”

“Let it go, Blaine. Kurt’s just worried he’s not going to fit in his mother’s wedding dress.”

Blaine asked with genuine confusion, “What? Are you wearing a dress to the wedding, Kurt?”

Santana’s laughter could’ve woken the neighbors on the top floor.

Kurt started to resent the both of them there and then.

“No! Red roses are completely unacceptable. Why would I wrap red roses with blue ribbon? That doesn’t work at all! I’m paying you for white roses, and I am going to get white roses! Got it!?” Kurt disconnected the call as violently as he could on a touch screen.

“Kurt, do we really have to send our invitations back with our R.S.V.P.? Or can we just give them to you now?” Kurt’s coworker, Connor, asked just before his lunch break.

“You can give them to me, I guess. Considering I needed to know this information like a week ago. But that’s fine. Just make it harder for the groom to get things finalized. It’s not like he’s really stressed out with work and wedding planning and ruined dinners while trying not to piss off his roommate and fiancé and his coworkers - who can’t send back a wedding invitation on time!”

Conner shared a look with Andrew, who had come with him to inquire about wedding invitations. "Ok. You need a break. Come on, impromptu bachelor party lunch break.”

“Sorry for the lack of planning, but we assumed your brother or someone would throw you one. But since the wedding’s so soon I guess this is what you’re going to get.”

Kurt stood in the doorway of the establishment, “I cannot believe that you’ve brought me to a strip club on my lunch break.”

“Well you seem really busy, so I feel like this is all the time you have. But this club comes highly recommended by my roommate.”

Kurt looked around, “Speaking of roommates,” he walked over to the bar, “This is your second job? Really?”

“Kurt! What the hell are you doing here?” The only word Kurt could use to describe the look on Santana’s face would be panicked. “You need to leave. Now!”

That was confusing; he thought she would be thrilled for him by being within a five block radius of a strip club. “Excuse me; I’m at my bachelor party. One Manhattan, barkeep.” Wanting to keep her job (though she obviously knew Kurt was underage), she made his drink. As he sipped his Manhattan he failed to notice her frantic texting.

“Kurt! Come here! We have a surprise!” Deciding to humor the boys - after all he was getting married and why shouldn’t he get a party? - he walked over and let them put him in a lone seat directly in front of the stage. Kurt was pretty sure he knew what his surprise was.

The lights dimmed and a song Kurt briefly recognized as one of Blaine’s favorites started playing over the sound system. Connor said something and Kurt turned his head to look at him and laugh, but when he tuned his head back to the stage he stopped.

“Oh. My. God.”

Blaine’s shift was about to end, but as he went to go get dressed; he was stopped by a couple of men asking how much it would be for a lap dance for their friend. They told him that Blaine was ‘just his type’ and it would be a great surprise. Not in a position to turn down money (that would be going towards his honeymoon), he agreed to do this one last job for the day.

Of course he wasn’t expecting to come out and see his fiancé sitting in front of the stage, laughing and surrounded by men who Blaine assumed were his coworkers from Vogue. He was trying to slip back behind the curtain, but before he could Kurt turned his head back to the stage.

The look of happiness that was there a second ago was gone. Blaine couldn’t hear him over the pounding music, but he could clearly see Kurt mouth ‘Oh my god’.

Blaine was frozen in his spot but clearly Kurt didn’t have that problem when he stood up and ran out of the club.

Kurt didn’t go back to work that day. He couldn’t stand having to face the guys and tell them the man they paid to give him a lap dance was the man he was marrying. He wandered until he found a diner that didn’t look too busy. He sat in a corner booth and waited for the waitress to come over and take his order. The moment he sat down he pulled his phone out of the pocket. Seven missed calls already; six from Blaine, one from Santana.

He was then reminded not only of Blaine’s deception, but his best friend’s. How could they keep something like this from him? Admittedly he didn’t know Blaine as well as he should, but Santana was the most honest person he knew. Granted, her brutal honesty hurt more that it helped, but still, he’d rather have been hurt in the privacy of his home instead of in front of a bunch of people. He was feeling so embarrassed, and pissed, and betrayed. Once again his future was up in the air, all because of Blaine.

Kurt briefly wondered if he was overreacting to this situation. He didn’t exactly ask Blaine where he worked. It never actually dawned on him to find out; after all, it was only temporary. And he wasn’t really angry at Blaine’s choice of job; people did what they had to do. It was definitely the lying, the both of them lying, that was bothering him the most. He just couldn’t understand the both of them going behind his back like this. But at least he finally understood how they got to their strange relationship. A small victory.

“Why am I even here?” Kurt asked as he plopped down onto the chair at Callbacks, “I should be moping with a tube of cookie dough mourning the loss of faith in the people I care about.”

“Look, I told you why I couldn’t tell you about Blaine before and I’m sorry. The last thing I want to do is lose your friendship considering everything we’ve been through. But I think you’re blowing this out of proportion. Yes, we lied to you and that was bad. But really think about it, Blaine was ashamed of his job. I mean, who was going to hire someone who only has a temporary visa in this country? He was still learning about America and getting used to this place. So he took the job he could get. And he hated it. He really did. And I guess he didn’t tell you because he didn’t want to have to see the look on your face, the one you had when you actually did find out.”

“So why are you telling me this instead of him.”

Santana actually looked dejected when she said “Because he’s letting you go. And he’ll never say this to your face.”

“He’s letting me go?”

“Yup. Back to Russia I assume. But I figured he deserved a few minutes on an American stage.” Santana turned to look straight ahead, where Kurt had completely missed Blaine’s ascent to the stage.

“Hello, everyone. My name is Blaine, and this is my first and last night on this stage. But I would like to sing a song for Kurt, who I promised a song to months ago.”

Slow down, lie down

Remember it's just you and me

Don't sell out, bow out

Remember how this used to be

I just want you closer

Is that alright

Baby let's get closer tonight

Grant my last request

And just let me hold you

Don't shrug your shoulders

Lay down beside me

Sure I can accept that we're going nowhere

But one last time let's go there

Lay down beside me

The ride home was incredibly awkward, the three of them crowded together in a cramped subway car. No one said a thing until they were back at the apartment in their respective bedrooms.

As Kurt walked into their room, and it dawned on him that it really was theirs now, and he didn’t want it to just be his anymore.

“Thank you. For the song. You are really talented; I’m sure you’d make it here.”

“Maybe I would have,” Blaine didn’t look up from packing his suitcase.

Kurt figured this was his last shot, “Please don’t leave. Please.”

“Kurt. There have been so many bad things since you said yes to me. This obviously is not going to work. I really think I should just go. Back to Russia. This was all just a stupid mistake.”

“It wasn’t a mistake, it-“

“Kurt, just drop it. I am leaving. That is final.”

Fuck. “I think I love you.”

That made Blaine turn from his packing. “No you don’t.”

“You’re right. But I could love you. If you stayed.”

“You can’t make me stay by telling me you love me. Or with sex, like I know you are going to try next.”

“See! You already know me so well!”

“Kurt, stop. I-“

“Just tell me what I have to do to make you stay. Just please. Please don’t go. I don’t care what you do. I don’t care about anything except you, me, and this marriage, okay? I made a promise to you when I said I’d marry you. But you also made a promise to me. You told me you’d make me happy. Well I’m not happy now.”

“Exactly. I broke my promise to you. I have caused you suffering and I cannot stand that, Kurt. I need to leave you or I will just hurt you more. Goodbye, Kurt.”

No. “Blaine!”