"More sequins?" Kurt emphasized, making sure he heard the excited drag queen correctly.

"Of course, darling," Ms. Unique confirmed. "Is there such a thing as too many sequins? And feathers. Lots of feathers. The big flouncy ones that bounce when I walk. Oh, you know what Ms. Unique likes."

"Got it," Kurt said, jotting down the information with a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head. He learned pretty early on that it did no good to argue with Unique. She was a shrewd business woman who knew exactly what she wanted, didn't take no for an answer, and always managed to get the upper hand.

Kurt had to admit that when he met her, he loved her immediately, and to his surprise they clicked on a level that had little to do with business. If Ms. Unique wasn't so successful with her night club and her drag burlesque revue, Kurt might suggest that she look into becoming a Dominatrix.

"So, let me go over that again to be sure I have it right," Kurt said, squinting at his own notes and crude sketches, trying to get his thoughts in order, "that's the mermaid style off the shoulder gown in candy apple red heavy double-faced silk charmeuse with off-set rickrack sequins in red, pink, and white, and the feather boa trim in blood orange? Does that sound correct?"

"That's perfect!" Ms. Unique chirped over the phone, sounding so utterly elated that Kurt bit his lip not to laugh. "And that'll be ready by the Winter Showcase, darling?"

"Of course," Kurt assured her. "Not a problem."

He mentally patted himself on the back for sounding so confident. A big part of Kurt's job relied on his clients having faith in his abilities to deliver on time, but with every order that came in he became less and less sure of himself – a bad trait for a designer and a Dominatrix.

He rubbed his neck with his fingers, trying to work through the knots that seemed to have sprung up one on top of the other over the course of the last few hours.

Kurt severely needed to relieve some stress. Blaine and the rest of the 'Sing' crew had been burning some serious midnight oil in an attempt to polish off those first four episodes before they dove into filming the wedding, which was touted as the pinnacle of the season if not of the whole entire series so extra care was being taken to make sure it turned out just right. That meant an exhausted Blaine stumbling into bed at all hours of the morning, definitely too tired to be dominated, often times too tired to be fucked. Kurt was sympathetic, especially considering his own hectic schedule, but he was also nearing his wit's end.

Another late night and a dead-tired sub meant Kurt might have to resort to desperate measures; knock the dust off his woebegone Fleshjack, and take matters into his own hands.

Kurt cringed at the thought. He was all for self-gratification but with Blaine around it seemed like a sin to pleasure himself when there was such a glorious ass at his disposal.

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate this, Kurtie," Ms. Unique cooed. "I just love love LOVED the last mermaid dress you made! And how you managed to find a shade of peach that complimented Unique's skin color so perfectly the way you did…you are simply a miracle worker! That's what you are! Move over Miss Anne Sullivan because you are straight from heaven!"

This time Kurt let a small chuckle slip past his lips. He couldn't help it. Ms. Unique's enthusiasm was like a cold – once you were exposed to it there was no escaping it. It wormed its way inside your body until you were completely infected, and then it was too late. You could try your hardest to be sour and bitter (or frustrated beyond belief, as in Kurt's case) but there was no defeating it.

From behind Kurt another sound joined Ms. Unique's unerringly cheerful voice. Kurt's body felt it before his mind registered it, every muscle straining tight beneath his skin relaxed, and he immediately felt light and giddy.

Blaine had stepped through Kurt's studio door.

"Well, as long as you're happy, I'm happy," Kurt said, trying to find the quickest and politest way to end their conversation.

There must have been some change in the tone of Kurt's voice, something that hinted to his shift in mood because Ms. Unique hummed over the line and the sound made Kurt blush feverishly.

"Ooo, I know that voice," she said with a suggestive lilt. "I'm guessing your man just got home."

Kurt couldn't answer. Blaine had put his hands on Kurt's shoulders and kissed his neck. What Kurt had intended to be a yes came out as a choked, embarrassingly obscene moan. Ms. Unique laughed out loud.

"Go get some, baby boy," she said. "I'll talk to you later. TTFN," and without Kurt even needing to say goodbye, Ms. Unique hung up.

"Hello, gorgeous," Blaine muttered from where he sucked a mark behind Kurt's right ear. Kurt had no other response than to surrender, to lean back into it and soak up all of his sub's affection. Blaine peeked over Kurt's shoulder and caught a glimpse of his notes scrawled on the notebook locked in his fist.

"Another one?" Blaine murmured, his eyebrows rising in surprise as he looked over the haphazard notes. "Won't that be the third one?"

"Yup," Kurt said, capping his pen, "but this one is for Unique's own personal use. And it must be big, big, big!" Kurt said, imitating the voice and signature jazz hands of the busty torch song singer. "Something between Oprah Winfrey chic and Barbette fabulous."

"Barbette fabulous?" Blaine parroted, shaking his head. "What's that?"

Kurt opened up the most recent search on the browser window of his phone and passed it over to Blaine.

"Yeah. I'm ashamed to say that I had to Google it." Kurt folded his arms on the counter and dropped his head onto them, groaning loudly. Blaine looked up from the phone and over at his Dom, tense shoulders hunched up around his ears while he continued to grumble.

"Kurt?" Blaine put the phone down on the counter and rested a hand on Kurt's back, rubbing circles over his spine. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes," he replied, not raising his head. "Just…maybe a little overwhelmed. That's all."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Blaine trailed his hands up Kurt's back to massage his shoulders, feeling the tension melt slowly beneath his fingers.

Kurt sighed. He hedged against telling Blaine how many responsibilities he had piled on his plate. He didn't want his sub, his love to feel guilty, especially when everything he did had Kurt's best interests at heart – a want for him to overcome, to succeed. In the end he decided to lay it all out. Blaine wasn't only his sub, but his partner, the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life loving. He didn't want to devastate the trust they had been building with lies of any kind.

"My schedule is so full, it's overflowing!" Kurt exclaimed, running a hand through his hair and blowing a long breath through pursed lips. "I had my hands full with Lucy Bale's twenty leather hand-dyed costumes for her tour, and now Ms. Unique added a second show to her winter lineup, and on top of that, and on top of that, Sing's whole wedding party." Kurt closed his eyes and shook his head, squeezing tight when he remembered one last little detail. "Oh, and did I forget to mention that I have my clients at Celebrity Fitness!? Don't get me wrong, some of them are really cool about my over-the-top schedule, especially knowing that Sing is coming to a close, but some of them…ugh! Uptight little…"

Kurt rubbed his eyes hard with the heel of his hand to clear his mind. Blaine's hands dropped from Kurt's shoulders, his entire body weighed down with the burden of Kurt's obvious distress.

"Look…Kurt…" Blaine stuttered, sitting on the stool opposite his Dom and staring down at his kidskin leather shoes, "I didn't think about any of this when we decided to put this in your lap."

Kurt hopped off his stool and walked over to Blaine as he spoke, resting his hands on Blaine's knees. Blaine looked up at him with large, honey-colored eyes, full of sorrow and regret.

"I'm so sor-"

Kurt surged forward and cut Blaine off with a gentle but urgent kiss, nibbling on his upper lip before he pulled away with a look of amusement at the way Blaine's brow furrowed in confusion.

"I'm so sor-"

Kurt kissed him again, this time wrapping his arms around his sub's waist, threading one hand through Blaine's hair. Blaine whined low in the back of his throat when Kurt tightened the hand in his hair.

Kurt pulled away again, this time chuckling. Blaine smiled.

"I'm so-"

Blaine laughed when Kurt kissed him one more time, receiving a sharp tug to his curls that cut his laugh short and turned it into a moan. Kurt tightened his arm around Blaine's waist, keeping him still and claiming him with the ferocity of that kiss.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Blaine asked, chasing Kurt's lips with his own as his Dom leaned back to peer down at him.

"Because you keep trying to apologize," Kurt explained. "And I don't want you to. I don't want you to be sorry for anything. What you did for me…it's amazing. A little exhausting, but amazing, and I wouldn't change a thing. Not a single…fucking…crazy…thing…" Kurt punctuated his statement with bites to Blaine's neck, smiling when Blaine jumped, his sub rubbing his crotch subconsciously along Kurt's thigh as the nips got harder. Kurt whimpered. Blaine was incredibly hard, but he didn't have enough time to dominate Blaine properly with another new gown in his queue, so a full session would be out of the question.

But maybe Blaine could help him with another dose of inspiration.

Kurt adored his luxurious playroom with its gigantic bed and all its various exotic devices of discipline, but there was something comforting and maybe a touch deliciously taboo about taking his sub in the back room of his studio. It reminded him a little of his days working at Vogue when he would daydream about doing something forbidden and lurid in that back corner closet they stuck a desk in and called his office…long before the days when he became a Dom and learned what forbidden and lurid really meant.

Kurt fastened the studded leather cuffs around Blaine's wrists and ankles looser than normal, choosing ones that were padded on the inside for comfort. A knotted piece of spare silk cord doubled as a testicle cuff.

Kurt Hummel was nothing if not resourceful.

As he had in the playroom after that fated meeting with Sing execs, Kurt tied Blaine up and sucked him off slowly, but this time Blaine lay flat on his back on Kurt's futon, cuff's attached to the frame by chains, and Kurt curled up beside him. He rested his head against Blaine's taut stomach, feeling the ripple of contracting abdominal muscles as he got close…so close, and then relaxing when Kurt stopped to sketch.

Kurt smiled when he pulled away to scratch out the details of his design and heard Blaine's drawn out, shuddering sigh. He might have to design all of his clothes this way, Kurt thought, not just when he was under a serious time frame crunch. Imagine what his clients, potential and existing, would think if it got out that he dominated Blaine's body this way to get his inspiration.

He could raise his labor costs another 10% and truthfully all of his kinky customers would probably be more than happy to pay. It was an amusing prospect to consider, but he wouldn't think of exploiting Blaine that way. Besides, it was more exciting to have this as his dirty little secret. He couldn't reveal all his tricks, after all.

Sketch book and charcoal pencils spread out over the red futon beside him, Ms. Unique's new costume was coming together quickly…at the same time so was Blaine. As detailed and ornate as Ms. Unique wanted it, the mermaid style dress was really nothing to toss together; Kurt had made others like it before, but he had other issues on his mind, other problems and concerns that fought over each other in his muddled brain to find resolution. They twisted and torqued together, tightening everywhere in Kurt's body. He needed to release them, needed to control them.

He needed Blaine; his body, his love, and everything else that went along with him.

His submission.

His obedience.

His heart.

Kurt took his time, enjoying the feeling of Blaine's smooth skin against his tongue; his clean, masculine smell that seemed to grow stronger with the heat of his arousal. He left Blaine ungagged and un-blindfolded. He craved the broken sound of Blaine's wanton moan; longed for the light of his glowing golden eyes and the raw lust growing in them. He needed to be reminded that no matter what, body and soul, Blaine belonged to him; forever belonged to him. That work and t.v. shows and eight new dresses needed in two weeks weighing down his schedule and forcing the two of them apart would never completely separate them.

Kurt blamed all this talk of weddings for making him broody, and not simply the wedding on the show. Memories hit him from all angles unexpectedly as he worked on the tuxes - of fitting Finn for his custom tux, altering Dave's and his own and his father's to match. Then there was Rachel's dress – that masterpiece of a gown, hand-woven lace overlay on a specially imported silk organza, covered in hand-stitched embroidery and crystal bead work.

During long hours alone in his studio late at night he could remember all those times he worked his fingers raw with Rachel breathing down his neck, fussing about the train and fretting over the trim until Kurt nearly went insane and sewed her mouth shut. Finally he snapped and threatened to dye the whole thing puce if she didn't quit nagging him; a tantrum which bought him about a week of uninterrupted peace in a loft devoid of Bridezilla. He always considered that gown his greatest triumph. To date he couldn't think of a single other piece that he had created that would even come close to comparing to Rachel Berry's epic wedding dress.

In more current events, Jeff still struggled over the right time to propose to Nick, and Nick, left in the dark, despaired every day that Jeff was never planning on asking him at all. It made Kurt want to scream sometimes to watch them, tip-toing around the same issue, not quite coming together – two men, madly in love, living on the same planet with their heads on different worlds.

Kurt had to force himself to grit his teeth and bear it when his forlorn friend and clueless boyfriend came over, but he swore that if he had to spend one more family dinner watching the two of them dance around the same issue just to end the night foolishly frustrated with each other that he would get down on one knee and propose to Nick for Jeff himself.

After he finished with the dress design, he shoved his sketch books and pencils to the floor, climbed onto Blaine's body and straddled his hips. He didn't need to ask if Blaine wanted this or wanted him. The wrecked look on Blaine's face, the expression of "yes…please…now," the way he held his breath as he watched Kurt carefully settle on top of him were all the assurance he needed.

Without a word Kurt removed the silk cord from Blaine's testicles, covered his aching cock with lube and slid his body down over him, engulfing Blaine in his heat, absorbing every shiver, every shift of his body, every intake of breath, and every tremor of his muscles. Kurt held Blaine down with his hands on his chest, crushing him to the mattress with his body, a silent but clear command for Blaine to lie still while Kurt fucked himself on his cock. Blaine obeyed like he always did, taking pleasure from the way Kurt writhed, head thrown back when he took Blaine to the hilt, moaning into the cool air of the room, legs quivering as the soft skin of his inner thigh brushed against Blaine's hips.

Blaine swallowed hard, trying to stifle the heat rising within him, not wanting to cum too quickly and have this all be over so soon, but how could he with this incredible, exotic creature rising and falling above him? Sometimes watching Kurt make love to him broke Blaine's heart. So many days he spent working late and then leaving their bed too early, giving the two of them barely a moment together. On those nights Kurt would greet Blaine with a shot of his favorite vodka and massaged his back till he fell asleep.

Work was a toxic environment for Blaine. Even surrounded by so many of his friends, with the promise of an end looming within reach, being in the studio with Brad hanging nearby, scowling and glaring ate away at his soul. He tried to find any way to stay connected to his Dom when they had to be apart. He couldn't wear one of Kurt's harnesses to work beneath his clothes since his character had so many costume changes and sometimes he walked around shirtless. Kurt gave him a few bites up and down his inner thighs, but he needed more than that to keep him sane.

Marking him was one thing, but ownership of Blaine was no longer in question.

He needed Kurt's total control.

Once or twice Blaine dreamt that what he had with Kurt was an illusion; the house and Kurt and his new family a figment of his imagination and he woke up in his bachelor pad after a drunken bender with Sebastian or a sordid fuck-fest with Mia. When he woke up for real he would be in tears, devastated by the idea that his perfect life was a lie, but his  Dom lay there beside him to hold him and comfort him, to comb his fingers through Blaine's curls and whisper sweet words of love and affection, and if that didn't work, to sing him to sleep.

"Oh, K-kurt," Blaine stuttered, pinned down and helpless, moaning with an ecstasy that he had no control over. "Oh, Kurt. I'm going to cum…"

"Do…do you want me to uncuff you?" Kurt said, unable and unwilling to stop even for a moment to talk to Blaine.

"No," Blaine said quickly. "No, please, don't…"

Blaine whined, pleaded, rolling his wrists in his cuffs, his ankles too from what Kurt could hear of the chains rattling against the wooden frame of the futon, surrendering to heat, surrendering to pleasure…surrendering to Kurt.

"That's a good boy," Kurt panted, breathless, so ready for this moment to be real after so many frustrated nights left wanting. "Good boy. Are you going to cum for me, sweetheart? Do you want to cum for me?"

"Yes, Sir," Blaine whimpered.

Kurt hadn't ever forced Blaine to call him 'Sir' or 'Master'. For some reason, even from that first night they were together, it didn't seem right. It was new for them; something that Blaine had wanted, and now that he heard it, heard Blaine address him as 'Sir' the way so many other dominated men had, he couldn't remember why he had objected in the first place. That simple word from Blaine's lips sent fingers of electricity up and down Kurt's spine, transcending this experience of a Dom making love to his sub to a new and exciting level.

"I didn't quite hear you there, sweetheart," Kurt teased, struggling with the euphoria crackling beneath his own skin to keep his voice from faltering.

"Yes, Sir," Blaine said with more confidence, hoping for the permission he sought. After so much attention by Kurt's mouth, that skillful tongue and the sinful heat of his body, Blaine knew that no amount of obedience could keep him from cumming.

"Then why don't you fuck me, sweetheart?" Kurt said, raising a bit off Blaine's body and hovering above his hips. "You want to, don't you? You want to fuck me till you cum?"

"Yes, Sir," Blaine moaned, his whole body shaking, the jingling chains growing progressively louder.

"Then do it," Kurt commanded. "Fuck me, sweetheart. Fuck me hard."

Blaine braced against the chains and slammed his hips up into Kurt's body again and again, grunting with the effort, straining to continue, not searching for his own orgasm, but Kurt's

"That's it," Kurt gasped, poised steady, taking thrust after thrust, relaxing slightly so that Blaine could reach that spot inside him that curled his toes and boiled his blood. "That's it…right there, Blaine. Faster, please, faster…"

Kurt raised his arms above his head and closed his eyes, riding Blaine's movements like a wave up and down, feeling the knots in his muscles unwind, his tense limbs slacken, his tension siphon away until his aura was scrubbed clean.

"I love you, Blaine," Kurt mumbled dopily, drunk on being fucked so perfectly by his bound and obedient sub. "I'll always love you. Do you love me?"

"God, yes," Blaine groaned, his voice rough and hoarse. "I love you so much, Kurt. I love you, I love you…"

Blaine's voice devolved into an incoherent chant in time to his thrusts and echoed the pounding fervor of Kurt's heart.

Kurt felt himself slipping further into the dark behind his closed eyes; the images that had been haunting him night and day flushed away as he came, and when Blaine followed, cursing hotly with Kurt's name wedged in between Kurt felt transformed…re-made…brand new.

"Oh my God, Kurt," Blaine moaned, panting heavily and lowering Kurt carefully back down to the mattress.

"You…you have some incredible abs there, Blaine," Kurt complimented with a proud smile, peeking down at Blaine.

"All thanks to my incredible personal trainer at Celebrity Fitness," Blaine said with a wink.

"We need…to do that…more…" Kurt panted, too tired to lift himself off Blaine's body so he simply lay down with his head on Blaine's chest where he could best listen to the racing of his heart.

"Soon enough," Blaine agreed, "the show will be done…and we can do this all night long if you want."

Kurt hummed happily, flicking out his tongue to trace a circle around Blaine's sensitive nipple.

"That sounds like an excellent plan," Kurt agreed, "but do you know what else I'd like to do when this nightmare is all over?"

"Hmmm, what?" Blaine asked, his body buzzing from his orgasm and the warmth of Kurt's body pressed against his.

"I want to take the kids on vacation. A real honest to goodness vacation." Kurt folded his hands over Blaine's chest and rested his chin between them. "They haven't really been anywhere but Legoland and the zoo since their parents died."

Blaine nodded, sighing deeply, the buzz of his fantastic orgasm fizzling out. Kurt and the kids gone; even if it was only for a couple of days it would be like his nightmare. Ave would most likely go, too. Of course he would if school didn't interfere. Dave was a huge part of those kids' lives. They were a family. Blaine wondered how long Kurt intended to take the kids away for, but it hurt a bit thinking about asking. The only thought that occupied his mind was how much he'd miss them when they were gone.

"Hey!" Kurt said, his head popping up suddenly, "we can rent an RV and travel up the coast!"

Blaine nodded again, Kurt's eyes narrowing at the hard set of Blaine's face.

"We can map out a route of fun places to go to along with every coffee shop between here and Canada!"

Blaine laughed in spite of himself at Kurt's plan.

"Why do you think the kids would want to go to every coffee shop between here and Canada?" he asked, his brow knitting together in confusion.

"No," Kurt said, sitting up and fiddling with the lock on Blaine's wrist cuffs, "the coffee shop stops are for you. You know, so you can sing and promote your CD. We can sell copies out front. I imagine we'll have to call ahead of time to make sure it's okay, but once they hear that the great Blaine Anderson wants to sing in front of their store I imagine they'll agree."

Blaine shook his head slowly, dumbfounded.

This time Kurt looked a little bit hurt and confused.

"Did…do you not want to go with us?" Kurt asked, the afterglow draining from his face and his smile fading. "I'm sorry. I didn't even think…"

"No, no!" Blaine exclaimed, sitting up and rushing into Kurt's arms, feeling Kurt's shoulders fall. "I mean, yes! Yes, I want to go with you. I…"

Kurt's blue eyes found Blaine's golden ones, and Kurt's smile returned.

"I didn't think that I was invited."

"Why do you need to be invited, Blaine?" Kurt asked. "How many times do I have to say that you're a part of this family before it sinks into your gorgeous thick skull?"

Kurt brushed Blaine's sweaty curls away from his forehead while Blaine ducked his head, blushing beneath his  Dom's caring fingertips scratching into his scalp.

"Maybe one more time?" Blaine replied sheepishly, moving closer to the hand that cradled his head.

"You're a part of this family, Blaine." Kurt wrapped his arm around Blaine's shoulder and pulled him close. "You're my family. Besides, do you think Eva would go anywhere without you?"

Blaine shook his head.

"Probably not," Blaine laughed softly. "Good thing, too, because you can't take her away from me." Blaine held Kurt tighter and Kurt's heart gave a strange skip at the forlorn sound in his voice; the voice of teenage Blaine, still so much a boy, whose parents turned their back on him long ago and never made an effort to see him again.

"Sorry, babe," Kurt said brightly, trying to lighten the mood, "I'm afraid you're stuck with us. You're in this for the long haul, buster."

"Buster?"

Blaine peeked back up at Kurt with a comical twist on his lips. Kurt laughed, pecking kisses on Blaine's nose, across the bridge, and over his cheeks.

"So, it's a plan," Kurt announced. "The Hudson Hummel Anderson Karofsky family vacation extravaganza slash Blaine Anderson West Coast promotional tour is a go!"

"Now that's a mouthful," Blaine chuckled, the carefree sound music to Kurt's ears.

"Nonsense," Kurt said. "It'll look great on the t-shirts I'm having made."

"What are you going to do about your classes at Celebrity Fitness?" Blaine asked with a final snicker at the thought of the group of them, children and all, wearing matching t-shirts with the font wrapping completely around their torsos to fit all of those word. "Aren't your clients going to get pissed that their star trainer won't be available for a few weeks?"

"Fuck a few weeks," Kurt said with a scowl, turning his attention to the cuffs on Blain's ankles and undoing those as well. "I intend on us running away for a couple of months at least." Kurt climbed into Blaine's lap, wrapping his arms and legs around him. "But that is a good point, Anderson."

Kurt rolled his eyes to the ceiling, pretending to give the matter a great deal of serious thought.

"Fear not," he said when Blaine broke into a fit of giggles, "because I think I have a plan on how to handle that one."

"Why so blue, Magoo?"

Nick shrugged, securing a wayward piece of trim on one of the groomsmaid's dresses with a couple of running stitches.

"I guess I'm a little melancholy," Nick said, putting the dress back on a dress form so he could run the steamer over the wrinkles on the fabric, "with Blaine and Kevin and everyone on the show leaving and me staying behind, it feels like high school and everyone's graduating without me."

"Why would you stay here at the studio?" Kurt asked, putting another dress on a dress form in preparation for steaming.

"Because, I like my condo," Nick said, looking at Kurt curiously, "and without a job I won't be able to make the payments. Besides, if Jeff hasn't asked me to marry him by now, I doubt I'll look more attractive as a homeless bum."

Kurt rolled his eyes, but he didn't want to launch into another lecture about patience being a virtue and giving Jeff time, especially when he had more pressing matters to discuss with his best friend.

"Well, Nick Duval, what would you say if I told you that after Sing wraps up you could walk off this lot and you'd have a job waiting for you?"

Nick looked at Kurt hard, his bewildered expression morphing into something that dared to be excited and hopeful.

"What are you talking about, Kurt?" Nick asked. Kurt beckoned him closer and Nick immediately forgot the dress he was steaming.

"Come work for me, Nicky," Kurt whispered, eyes darting from side to side to make sure that the many eyes and ears of the Sing gossip chain were nowhere near them before he continued. "Apparently I'm a brand name now that's expanding all over the place." Nick's eyes glanced down at Kurt's middle with a playful grin, and Kurt frowned, slapping Nick on the shoulder. "I'm serious, Nick. I need someone like you. Someone who's good with their hands and who has your impossible energy."

"But…but I can't do what you do," Nick said, his hopeful smile dissolving into his own hidden pool of self-doubt. "You're special."

"And so are you, Nick." Kurt grabbed Nick into his arms and held him close. "I've seen you do stitch and patchwork here on the set, and the alterations you've done on my gowns. Do you think I'd let anyone else touch them? You get me. You get my style, and on top of that you have an incredible eye." Kurt held Nick out at arm's length and met his misty-eyed gaze. "I'll handle the details, draw up the designs, and you help with the construction, the machine work, the hand-detailing, and this time I'll pay you in more than cupcakes."

Nick's smile dropped almost instantaneously.

"Can I get the cupcakes, too?" Nick pouted. Kurt hugged him again.

"You didn't let me get to the benefits package," he joked. His best friend giggled in his arms.

"Aaannndddd," Kurt drawled, "I know you mentioned talking about pursuing a career that might allow you and Jeff to work in concert, so I was thinking you might consider taking some of my clients down at Celebrity Fitness."

Kurt felt Nick's arms tighten around him, almost squeezing the breath out of him with his enthusiasm.

"Would they let me?" Nick asked. "Do you really think they would?"

"Yes," Kurt said. "I already talked with Tom Hardy, and as long as you can learn The Kurt Hummel Method, you're in."

Nick couldn't speak. He tried to say thank you several times but the words lodged in his throat. So instead he bounced up and down, taking Kurt along with him for the ride, laughing like mad.

"I take it that's a yes then?" Kurt laughed, his voice shaking as Nick jostled him up and down with surprising strength for such a petit man.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!" Nick chanted with tears in his eyes.

"Nick Duval!" a voice barked from behind them. "If you're done feeling up Blaine Anderson's boy toy, I need you to remember that after shooting wraps we'll need to have all the dye-able shoes collected for re-dying. Hot in Dallas starts shooting next week and I don't want the actor's walking off with them like you let them do last time."

Nick broke from Kurt's embrace but only partially to face the thoroughly unpleasant woman glaring at them. Kurt had seen her only a handful of times and he was immensely glad about that - Charlene from the wardrobe department. Kurt remembered Nick saying that she was always tasking him with things that weren't even his job. Collecting up shoes after the shooting was definitely not in his job description, but she obviously wouldn't have known or cared. She glared at the two of them with narrowed eyes. It was no secret that she wasn't thrilled with the arrangement that was made to placate the actors of Sing, and that of all the negotiators involved Kurt Hummel was apparently at the top of her hit list.

Nick Duval usually brushed her off and did what she told him to avoid a blow-up later on, but not this time. Nick Duval had his limits and Charlene had reached them.

"Fuck you, Charlene!" Nick growled in a dangerous voice Kurt had never heard come from his bubbly best friend. "After this week I don't work here anymore, and even if I did, you could take your fucking cheap-ass shoes and stick them straight up that gaping hole you call an ass!"

Kurt bit his lip hard, bit it to bleeding in an attempt to keep a straight face, especially when Charlene dropped the armful of bolts she was carrying down to the wardrobe manager for the new show.

In the end he couldn't stand it. He buried his face in the crook of Nick's neck and guffawed, making a sound he was sure he couldn't be held reasonably accountable for. The portly woman, jaw dropped to her collarbone as she glared daggers at Kurt, gathered up her bolts and bustled away, murmuring out loud to herself but neither Nick or Kurt made out a word over Kurt's laughter.

"I have wanted to do that for three years," Nick said, throwing his arms back around Kurt's shoulders.

"Good for you!" Kurt choked between laughs which were quickly turning into painful heaving breaths.

"I guess that could count as me turning in my resignation," Nick chuckled, peeking around for the first time at the interested faces watching around them, each with expressions that varied from pride to amusement to the one or two disgruntled ones who scurried away with their noses in the air.

"I think so," Kurt said, "and I have to admit I like your style, Duval. Now why don't we finish these dresses so we can go watch my boyfriend get married."

It might not have been a real wedding, but it sure as hell felt like one to Kurt. They filmed it in a replica chapel patterned after St. Vincent de Paul Catholic Church. Painstaking care was taken to meticulously replicate every intricate detail from the scrolled marble columns to the massive gold gilded Stations of the Cross mural behind the altar. The amount of work put into the set and scenery seemed excessive to Kurt, who felt the mood of the ceremony would have best been reflected with an outdoor beach wedding under a clear blue sky with the ocean rolling in the background and a flock of white doves released at the end.

Kurt might have been biased, though, since that was how he pictured his own wedding as of recent, walking down a gold satin runner set in the sand, arm in arm with his father wearing a tux that he designed, marching slowly toward a makeshift altar surrounded by the kids and Dave, all their friends and family in attendance, and a handsome man at the end of it all that looked astoundingly like Blaine.

The show execs decided on the church façade due to Kevin's character, Simon, and his constant inner turmoil – the battle of his family's religious beliefs against his own homosexuality. Simon's family disowned him earlier in the season (a storyline that Kurt imagined had to be difficult for Blaine to deal with) and for a lack of anyone else to confide in Simon ends up going to his priest in the confessional and telling him about his parents and their hatred of him. In a stunning twist that was praised for its groundbreaking portrayal of a new Catholic mindset, the priest visits Simon's family and convinces them that the way they treated their son was actually contrary to the teachings of the church. In the end Simon's family welcomes him home with open arms and the priest offers to wed him and his fiancé (Blaine) in the church, setting a precedent for other Catholic churches to follow.

As much as Kurt hated the whole Sing machine, he had to applaud their attempt at making a statement. If this didn't earn them an Emmy nod, nothing would.

They barely rehearsed Blaine and Kevin's vows in the hopes of capturing the nervousness of a real young couple getting married. They even hired a real pastor to perform the ceremony.

Kurt was none too thrilled about that little tidbit, but he had to admit the wedding set was beautiful.

The studio spared no expense.

Extra members of the cast and whatever crew wasn't necessary to film the shot were invited to dress up and act as guests at the wedding, including Kurt but he refused. He stood in the wings and watched the taping, finding a spot where he could get as unobstructed a view of Blaine as possible. He felt the start of tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. So many emotions filled his whole body, every corner, every crevice, filled him to bursting; it all seemed like too much. There was something surreally heartbreaking and beautiful at the same time watching the man you loved pledge his troth to someone else. His logical brain knew it wasn't real, but he couldn't help the tightness in his chest when Blaine looked into his co-star's eyes and said, "I do," or the way the Dominatrix in him wanted to storm over to the set, tear Kevin's arms from his shoulder sockets and beat him to death with the bloody stubs.

Kurt turned his head away when the pastor declared them, "Husband and Husband," to a chorus of amused titters and laughter, not particularly keen on watching the two actors kiss. Off to his left, in a darkened area of the sound stage, he caught sight of Nick laying into Jeff, and Kurt's heart sank. There were angry tears in Nick's eyes, drops rolling down his red cheeks. Jeff kept trying to grab his hand, but Nick pulled it away each time. Jeff said something that Nick apparently didn't like because he reared back to slap Jeff across the face. Kurt balled his hands into fists, taking a step in their direction, ready to put an end to this stupidity once and for all when Jeff did something Kurt didn't foresee. Jeff caught Nick's wrist as it swung forward and put Nick's hand over his heart. Nick, startled, tried to pull away, but Jeff dropped to one knee, and this time when the tears started fresh from Nick's eyes, they were accompanied by the brightest smile Kurt had ever seen from his charismatic friend. He saw Jeff pull the familiar blue box from his pocket and he knew.

Kurt sighed. He wanted to walk closer, to hear what Jeff was saying that was bringing Nick to his knees, throwing his arms around Jeff's neck and weeping so hard his entire body quaked, but he wouldn't disturb this intimate moment for the world. He knew Nick would give him the play by play later, after he'd shown Kurt the ring for the thousandth time and sighed the way Nick always did when he was overcome with emotion.

Time seemed to stop for Nick and Jeff, wrapped in each other's arms.

It stopped for Kurt, too, because before he knew it he felt a pair of strong hands out of nowhere massaging his shoulders. Blaine must have been talking to him because when Kurt didn't answer he whispered, "I asked you what did you think?" Blaine peeked past Kurt to see what in the distance had his Dom's undivided attention.

Kurt had a sudden memory of Finn proposing to Rachel on the Bow Bridge overlooking the water in Central Park. It was winter…and it was snowing. He could see it as if he had just been there, feel the chill air kiss his skin. Kurt had gone with Finn because Finn was so nervous he wasn't sure he'd be able to find his way in the snow, even though he'd been to that exact same bridge over a hundred times.

Kurt stood off in the distance, shivering to the bone when his step-brother dropped to one knee and asked his best friend to be his bride. He had been beside himself. He had never seen anything so stunningly romantic in his entire life. He couldn't wait for the same thing to happen to him; for that same moment to belong to him.

He thought the same thing then, watching Finn spin a laughing/crying Rachel in his arms, that he thought now as Jeff pulled away from Nick's iron embrace long enough to cradle his head in his hands and capture his lips in their first kiss as fiancés.

"I think they're going to live happily ever after," Kurt said with a sniffle, reaching up to his shoulders to grab Blaine's hands and wrap them around his waist.

Blaine watched Jeff lift Nick into the air and spin him around in circles like giddy teenagers with his own secretive smile growing on his lips.

As will we, Blaine thought, hugging Kurt tight. As will we.