Stanley didn’t like him much.

Kurt could just tell.

It wouldn’t have been a very big deal under any other circumstances. Stanley Kent was a squat man with flabby arms and no neck. He smelled a little like salami and he was dressed, from top to bottom, in tweed. Generally speaking, anyone that offensive to that many different senses would’ve fallen off of Kurt’s radar before he even had time to insult them.

Unfortunately, Stanley really needed to like Kurt because, as it turned out, for all his faults the man was apparently a genius with numbers and had been handling Blaine’s finances (both personal and professional) for years.

Awesome.

Stanley was currently sitting across from Kurt at a ten-person table in one of the back rooms of the Anderson Campaign office. Kurt wasn’t really sure what he’d been expecting of the senatorial election headquarters, but what he got was a small rented space off of Seventh and a tidy, open office design. Several desks had been arranged in clover-leaf formation, each with a computer, phone and volunteer to man it. Many of the workers looked to be in their early twenties—college students, Kurt guessed—but there were several older people flitting about the office as well in all shapes and sizes. The three back rooms, Kurt had learned through a quick personal tour from Blaine himself, were a small conference area, bathroom, and Blaine’s own private office, respectively.

Unfortunately, shortly after the very pleasant tour, Kurt had been subjected to the torture of both meeting and proving himself to the current staff which included the aforementioned Stanley Kent, Finance Chair; Sandy  Michaels, a sixty-two-year-old transvestite who handled volunteer operations; Patricia Blake, the office manager; and Wesley Chang, Blaine’s attorney (“You have an attorney? Aren’t you an attorney?” “Wes represents me in public cases so that I can focus more on keeping my image clean”).

Getting on Sandy’s good side hadn’t been difficult. All that Kurt had to do was compliment his Vanessa Bruno skirt and the man was practically fawning. Patricia also seemed to warm to him and had this lovely, maternal air about her that reminded Kurt very much of his stepmother Carole. Even Wes, who introduced himself as ‘Blaine’s oldest and closest friend, so you better not be a repeat of the last guy, Hummel,’ seemed to be warming up to him slowly. But Stanley…Stanley just seemed to hate him.

“Do you even know how a campaign works, Kurt,” Stanley was saying now as he flipped through a ledger full of handwritten numbers. “Our account is pretty much empty thanks to your predecessor,” Kurt noticed Blaine’s flinch at the words but Stanley steamed on, “and it’s your job to get Blaine out into the public, looking good and bringing in financial backers. Do you even know how you’ll do that yet?”

Kurt resisted the urge to shout petulantly. Stanley already considered him a child. Behaving like one wouldn’t help his case. “Look,” he said calmly instead, making sure to catch everyone’s eye before looking back to his new arch-nemesis (he’d turned Rachel into his best friend, he could do it again). “I could sit here and pretend that I know exactly what I’m doing and that I’ve got experience in this business, but the truth is, you’re right, I don’t. I’ve never managed a campaign before and, while I’ve done my homework, there are going to be things you’ll have to help me with at first. But here’s what I’m bringing to the table Stanley, new ideas and new ways of getting things done. I’m not like every other campaign manager who would give their left arm for this opportunity. My marketing classes were about products, not people, but let me let you in on a little secret nobody wants you to know. Marketing? It’s all the same. Image is always image. To sell something, people needed to know what it does and where they can find it. And, in that case, I am definitely the man for this job because I’ve got something nobody else you could’ve put in this chair has.”

“And what’s that,” Wes asked, eyebrows raised in mild appreciation. At the end of the table Kurt noticed Blaine beaming at him.

Kurt gave Wes a cocky smile. “A completely unique outlook.”

~K~B~

“I have to admit, Blaine, I was a little nervous at first,” Wes said to his best friend over lunch. It had been several hours and another two heated discussions before Kurt and Stanley had reached some sort of consensus for the campaign’s future and the group could take a break from all the tension. It had all been worth it to see the absolute passion in the younger man’s eyes, Blaine thought.

“You didn’t like Kurt from the beginning,” Blaine frowned because, honestly, the second the boy had walked through his office door, Blaine had been pretty much sold. He’d never met anyone quite as unique and yet somehow as solid as Kurt Hummel. It was as intriguing as it was intimidating. And that was coming from a senatorial candidate.

“Oh, he seemed perfectly nice and genuine, it’s more that,” Wes paused and studied his friend carefully. “He’s very good looking, Kurt.”

Blaine choked a little on the sip of water he’d just taken. “Switching teams a little late in the game, aren’t you Wes?”

“Oh, please,” Wesley laughed. “I’m married, you moron.”

Blaine raised a teasing eyebrow. “I always did wonder about you and David back in high school. You two have a pretty epic bromance.”

Wesley laughed appreciatively. “I told you, he’s my hetero life mate. My wife can accept this. Why can’t you? Anyway, my point is, Kurt is a good looking guy. And he’s kind and very funny and obviously incredibly passionate about whatever he sets his mind to. It’s not that I didn’t like him right away. It’s more that…I think you like him a little too much.”

Blaine refrained from choking this time, but only just. “You think I hired him so that I could sleep with him? Wes, that’s just skeevy! And gross! And, I’m so not that guy.”

“Obviously,” Wes said with an eyeroll. “I didn’t think you were going to offer him a job to seduce him. I was just worried that maybe your perception of his abilities was warped by the shape of his ass in those pants.”

“Damn Wes,” Blaine sighed, shaking his head. “Your wife seriously just lets it go when you say things like that.”

“Stop deflecting. You know I’m right, Blaine.”

Blaine gave a noncommittal shrug. “Of course Kurt is attractive. A blind man could see that much. But that’s not why I hired him. He’s…there’s something,” Blaine waved his hands around uselessly like he could pluck the word he was searching for out of the air. “He’s just different than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“Blaine,” Wes said gently, resting a hand on his friend’s forearm. “I get it. I do. And watching him hand Stanley’s ass back was incredible. Man, I know he’s good with numbers, but that guy is such a douche. The thing is, Blaine, no matter how incredible this kid is, you’re gonna have to keep your distance. You can’t really afford relationship distractions this close to the election and besides, it would draw all sorts of awkward scandalous rumors into the campaign that I don’t feel like ironing out for you.”

“Wes,” Blaine said with a roll of his eyes. “I’m not sixteen. I’m not going to fall head-over-heels for Kurt because he has amazing eyes and a winning personality. It’s all professional. I promise.”

Wes laughed. “Might wanna refrain from calling his eyes ‘amazing’ then,” he pointed out helpfully.

“Oh, shut up.”