Summer had finally arrived, a fact that Kurt lamented on almost a daily basis. According to him, it was the least interesting season for fashion and the lack of scarves and snappy jackets was almost enough to put him into mourning. Blaine listened sympathetically, but inside was kind of thrilled to see Kurt dressed in fewer layers. It made ogling his delectable butt and broad shoulders so much easier.

A drawer in Blaine's bedroom and one in his bathroom were now partially filled with some of Kurt's things and as Blaine looked around his apartment, he could see all sorts of little evidence that pointed to how much time they spent together. One of Kurt's French cookbooks had found a permanent home on the kitchen counter, his phone charger was still plugged in beside the bed, a few of his TV choices were programmed into the DVR, and a half-completed puzzle that they'd been working on covered the kitchen table.

It was amazing how compatible they were, even in the little ways. They preferred opposite sides of the bed and Kurt's extended moisturizing routine coincided perfectly with the time Blaine took each night to stretch and meditate (something he'd picked up along with boxing, as a way of centering himself and managing his emotions). They both liked to read in bed for a while before turning off the lights, and they both preferred the "rain" setting on the white noise machine Kurt had bought him.

Blaine had never slept so well as when he was cuddled up contently next to Kurt's side.

Even Sebastian had added to the blissful place they found themselves in, having backed off — in the week since they'd had a drink at the bar — from his almost relentless pursuit of Blaine. They still ran into each other in the lobby sometimes, but other than the hungry look in his eyes, Sebastian was polite and respectful. He'd even stopped showing up at French Press. Blaine wasn't sure of the reason why, but he wondered sometimes if Kurt had had something to do with it. Maybe he'd confronted Sebastian and asked him to leave them alone. Blaine knew he didn't need rescuing, but the idea of Kurt being jealous enough to take action like that was kind of hot. He tried probing on the subject with Kurt a few times, but he'd been non-committal and changed the subject quickly, so Blaine had dropped it.

Time flew by and before they knew it, it was Kurt's opening night.

Kurt had left for the theater several hours before for a last minute dress rehearsal, so Blaine took his time getting ready for the big event. He shaved, using the aftershave that he knew drove Kurt crazy, and styled his hair before slipping into his freshly pressed suit. He reached into his underwear drawer and pulled out the new bow tie that he'd ordered from a shop in Australia a few weeks before. Kurt had shown him their website, sighing forlornly that their tie featuring little skeletons holding hands with a heart between them was out of his price range. Blaine had gone back after Kurt was asleep and bought it along with a one for himself that was silver and black paisley. He planned on giving Kurt the skeleton tie later that night as a surprise.

Kurt had been a bundle of nerves the last few days, sure that some disaster was going to befall the production. He'd even asked his friends not to come to the opening, saying that he'd be too nervous if he knew they were all out there on the first night. Instead, he'd asked them to come at the beginning of the second week, after he'd gotten his feet under him.

Blaine had thought that the request applied to him too, until one day when he'd mentioned how hard it was going to be to wait an entire week to see Kurt's performance. Kurt had gaped at him in astonishment and clarified that he was expecting Blaine eighth row center on opening night and for as many other nights as he could possible manage. The joy that Blaine had felt when Kurt said that there was no way he could imagine making his leading man debut without Blaine in the audience could have lit up New York for a week.

On his way to the theater, Blaine stopped at the florist shop where he'd pre-ordered a bouquet. The dozen long-stemmed red and yellow roses were perfect and he tucked them under his arm as he walked the rest of the way to the theater.

The show went off without a hitch and the audience gave the cast a standing ovation with the loudest applause sounding for Kurt, who was beaming as Blaine had never seen him. The backstage area of the theater was really small, so Kurt had asked Blaine to just meet him at the stage door so that they could walk over to the cast party together. Since he'd some time to kill while Kurt got changed and took his make-up off, Blaine lingered in the lobby, listening as the departing crowd talked about the show. It seemed that everyone was intrigued by the ethereal looking man with the distinctive, hypnotizing voice who had played Tommy and the consensus seemed to be that they expected to see him on Broadway very soon.

With a skip in his step, Blaine headed around to the stage door, roses and program in hand. He greeted the few cast members that he knew warmly as they exited the theater, congratulating them on a job well done and promising to see them soon at the party.

Finally, the door opened and Kurt stepped out, wearing tight dark gray pants, black calf-high boots, and a red and deep burgundy Alexander McQueen jacket that he'd fought tooth-and-nail for on eBay just the month before. He looked as if he should have been modeling the look on a runway.

Blaine stepped forward and held out his program, holding the roses behind his back with his other hand. "You were wonderful tonight, Mr. Hummel. May I get an autograph?"

"Why yes, you may," Kurt said breathlessly with a laugh as he signed his name with a flourish.

Several other autograph seekers were waiting, so Blaine stepped back, letting Kurt bask in the limelight. Then, after he'd signed the last program and thanked the last admirer, Blaine took his hand and pulled him in for a kiss.

"You were remarkable. No one could stop talking about you in there." He pulled the flowers from behind his back with great fanfare.

Kurt accepted the bouquet with a squeal of surprise and buried his face in the blooms, breathing in their rich scent. "I've never gotten flowers before," he cried. "At least not any that weren't from my dad or Rachel."

"I'm sorry your dad couldn't make it."

"That's okay. He can't leave the business right now. I understand." He tucked his arm into Blaine's as they started walking down the sidewalk. "I'm glad you were there, though. It made it more real, somehow, knowing that you were out there, witnessing the whole thing. Like I couldn't possibly be dreaming it or making it up in my head as long as you were there to share it with me."

Blaine didn't think he'd ever been happier. "Nope, no dreams here, except for the dreams coming true, that is."

Kurt tightened his arm and grinned. "Come on, let's go party!"

=^..^=

Tommy ended its month-long run with glowing reviews for the whole production, its leading man in particular. Blaine ended up seeing the show six times and was the first one to his feet, applauding wildly, as the cast came out to take their bows each night.

Kurt had been asked by the theater to star in their next production too and had immediately gone into rehearsals, so he and Blaine had had limited time together for the past week, fitting in coffee and overnight stays when their schedules matched up. Finally, though, they both had a free evening and they were going to have an official date night.

Blaine finished his own rehearsal at the club and took off for home. On the spur of the moment, he ducked inside a florist shop to pick up some flowers. Kurt had been so happy with the bouquet Blaine had gotten him for his opening night and the look on his face was one Blaine wanted to see repeated over and over. He spent longer than he probably should have picking out the perfect ones — should he decide based on color? Type of flower? The meaning behind each bloom? Finally, he settled on a stunning bunch of purple Vanda orchids that looked just abstract enough to be mistaken for a piece of modern art.

Blaine paid for the flowers and checked the time on his phone, noting that he still had more than enough time to return home for a quick shower before picking Kurt up for their date. As he waited at the crosswalk for the light to change, he saw someone who looked very much like Sebastian worming his way through the crowd, which was impossible because there was no way that Sebastian would voluntarily be in that part of town. The light changed and he hurried across, catching sight of the man in question just as he ducked around the corner. It was Sebastian and he was acting very strange, looking over his shoulder furtively as if making sure that no one he knew had seen him.

Curious, Blaine decided to follow him. Halfway up the block, Sebastian stopped in front of a seedy dive bar that definitely wasn't his style. After seeming to confirm the address on his phone, he grimaced and went inside. Blaine was intrigued. He waited a few minutes, then opened the door to the bar, slipping inside, but staying near the entrance while his eyes adjusted to the dim light. Thanks to Sebastian's height he was able to spot him towards the back, talking with someone who was seated out of sight.

Blaine skirted the outside of the room, coming up on the opposite side of a large pillar that would stop Sebastian from spotting him. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to find. Was Sebastian meeting a drug dealer? A rent-boy? A blackmailer who demanded they meet in an out-of-the-way location? It most likely wasn't anything that exciting, and he felt silly and a touch guilty about what he was doing, but his interest was peaked and he was kind of hoping for an interesting story to tell Kurt later that night.

It was loud in the bar, so Blaine had to strain to hear Sebastian's conversation. He was only getting a word or two, but could tell from Sebastian's belittling and dismissive tone that he was probably not great friends with whomever it was that he was talking to.

Then, the music changed to a slower song and the noise level in the room dropped and Blaine could clearly make out an unfamiliar voice saying his name and then his father's. With dawning horror, he realized that Sebastian knew who he was and had obviously been deceiving him. Stunned, he stood up and was about to walk away when the voice rang out again, loud and clear.

"Now that you practically live with him, you'll be able to search the place. I bet we have our money back by this time next month. This has already taken way too long. When you agreed to try and get information out of Anderson we thought it would only take a few weeks for you to charm it out of him."

"I'm not Mata Hari. If you wanted a professional spy, you should have gotten someone else to do your dirty work."

Blaine didn't hear the response, if there was one. He was too caught up in the fact that he recognized the voice that had made the Mata Hari comment. It was too unique, too distinctive to be mistaken. Kurt. The blood drained from his face and the sound dropped out of the room as a sharp pain stabbed him in the chest. Was this what a heart attack felt like? Could everything he had with Kurt be a lie, a trick to get information about his father?

He remembered how he and Kurt had "met cute" and how he'd thought it was destiny, but now he realized it was probably all pre-planned.

Unthinkingly, he stepped back from the protection offered by the pillar. From his new vantage point, he could see Kurt sitting next to Sebastian and a tall man wearing an expensive suit. Kurt was glaring at the man and, as he rolled his eyes at something that was being said, he looked up, right to where Blaine was standing.

Their eyes locked, Blaine's wet with tears and Kurt's widened in horrified dismay. Neither said a word.

Blaine spun on his heel and forced his way through the crowd towards the door. Once outside, he looked down to the flowers that he still held tightly in his hand. With a wounded cry, he threw them to the street, getting a tiny bit of satisfaction when they fell into a puddle in the gutter.

Dimly, he heard the door open behind him. He didn't need to look to know who had followed him.

He turned around abruptly, not giving Kurt a chance to speak first. "Was it all a lie? Did you know who I was from the very beginning?"

"No! Bran...Blaine, no." Kurt looked sincere, but Blaine was no longer fooled. "The coffee shop...it really was an accident, at least on my part. I didn't know who you were until...later."

"And who are you? Why are you involved in this?"

"M-my dad was an investor in Winterland. He lost almost everything and was barely able to hold onto his business. His heart...things have been so stressful. I was really worried."

Blaine laughed bitterly. "So you want me to believe that it was just a coincidence that we met? Of all the people in New York, it just happened to be a Winterland investor's kid that I...fell in love with?" His voice began to crack at the end, making him even angrier that he couldn't control his feelings.

"I didn't know, I swear!" Kurt took a step forward, a hand raised pleadingly, but Blaine dodged it, shaking his head. Kurt dropped his hand back down, his shoulders sinking as if weighed down. "I had a crush on you within seconds of that slushie hitting your head and I was so, so happy when we started dating. You were sweet and wonderful and—"

"Did you know who I was before I told you everything?" Blaine interrupted.

"Yes," Kurt admitted guiltily, unable to meet Blaine's eyes. "Sebastian — he's from my hometown and we knew each other from school — he called me one night and started yelling about how I'd screwed up his plans to meet and get close to you. His father is a big time lawyer in Westerville and leads this group of investors who hatched a plot where Sebastian was supposed to get close to you to see if you knew where your father — and the money— is."

"And you just decided to work with them?" Blaine asked incredulously. "Our relationship meant that little to you?"

Kurt shook his head slowly. "I told them no, that I wasn't going to help them, but they kept calling and talking about my dad and how he deserved justice and how everything could be okay again if only we could find the money. I refused again and they said that if I wouldn't do it then Sebastian would. I knew he'd do anything to tear us apart, to worm his way in, and I couldn't stand the thought of you and him together, so I caved in finally. I thought that maybe I could find something, anything to placate them, to keep them away from you and that you'd never know."

Blaine did the calculation in his head. "So when did all this happen? I mean, you had to have known before I introduced you to Sebastian. Did he call you before or after he moved into my building?" Kurt again avoided his eyes, sending a wave a dread washing over him. "When did Sebastian call you, Kurt?"

Kurt's response was so low that Blaine had to strain to hear him. "The morning before our picnic in the park. The day I got the part in the musical."

Blaine didn't have to think at all to remember that day. It had been the day that he and Kurt had first made love. Kurt had slept with Blaine the night that he'd been asked to use his relationship to try and get information out of him. What he'd thought of as the most important night in his life had been nothing but a manipulative means to and end on Kurt's part. Everything was a lie. The entire foundation of their relationship, every heartwarming moment, every meaningful glance and soul stirring conversation since then, was part of a conspiracy to try and trick him.

"Wow. Okay." His anger boiled over and he lashed out, wanting to hurt Kurt as much as he'd been hurt. "It's quite a coup to win two lead roles in one day like that. Well, I hate to disappoint you, Kurt, but you whored yourself out for nothing. I don't know where my father is and, more importantly, I don't care. You've wasted your time and mine." He began to take a few steps backwards down the sidewalk, needing to put more space between them. "I admire your dedication, though. I always knew you were the type to fully commit yourself to a part. Bravo."

Kurt was crying now, his eyes and cheeks glistening in the passing headlights. "Blaine...Blaine, no. It wasn't an act. I swear it. I'm so sorry. Please don't—"

Anything else Kurt had to say was lost as Blaine stoically turned around and began to walk away. Thankfully, he heard no footsteps following behind him, so at least Kurt had enough courtesy not to try and drag the whole thing out any longer. The jig was up, the mask was off. There was no sense pretending anymore.

He reached the end of the street and fought the tiny urge to look back as he turned the corner. Just as the last sounds of the club music faded away he heard a plaintive cry ring out.

"Blaine!"