Blaine sighed and checked his watch. Kurt had been in the bathroom for over five minutes changing into yet another suit. How many did he have with him? Well, Blaine reasoned, he did have about ten bags, so he could have brought a fair amount.

“I’m sorry. I promise, this is the last one,” Kurt called from inside the bathroom. “I know you must think… oh, who knows what you think.”

Blaine sighed again. “Look, I know that this is important for you, but you’re a great-looking guy and you’ve got everything going for you.”

“Don’t patronize me; I feel like crap and if I’m going to feel like crap, I want to look hot doing it,” Kurt said, straightening his suit jacket in front of Blaine.

“Mission accomplished,” Blaine said, staring up at him from his seat on the small couch.

Kurt’s expression was shocked. “Really?” he asked, looking down at the suit before shaking his head. “Don’t get too attached,” he said, retreating back into the bathroom.

“I prefer the one with the red tie.”

Blaine looked up at the voice and saw a petite waitress. “I’ll, uh, let him know.”

A few more minutes ticked by and Blaine was about ready to call out to make sure that Kurt hadn’t strangled himself with the many button down shirts he had carted in with him when he heard the voice.

“What do you think?” Kurt asked, walking out of the bathroom yet again and standing in front of Blaine.

“Hmm,” Blaine mumbled.

“Hmm, nice look or hmm, gorgeous, I was insane to let you go?” Kurt asked, complete with a dramatic pose.

“Well, I’d sleep with you,” the same waitress said, smiling.

Kurt looked at Blaine with a face that seemed to shout ‘ABORT’ and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

---

They walked into the restaurant. Kurt had finally settled upon a charcoal-colored suit with a deep red silk tie and a clean, crisp white shirt and Blaine was still in his original outfit. Kurt didn’t really mind, though—Blaine looked stunning. Kurt still couldn’t believe he was just as perfect as when he first sat down on the plane.

Kurt looked at his surroundings, already spotting a few people he knew. That nervous feeling was coming back in waves now and he felt as if he was going to drown in it. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he gulped.

Blaine placed his hand on Kurt’s back, leading him forward slowly. “You’re never going to be sure of anything, but we do have to go inside.”

Kurt quickly grabbed Blaine’s hand and gripped it. He needed to hold onto something and Blaine was already starting to calm him just by being there. Walking forward towards the coat and hat check, Kurt swore to himself. He saw Puck coming straight for him. Great. Just what he needed. He was probably already drunk.

“Hey, Kurt,” Puck greeted, hugging him tightly and then swiftly letting him go.

Kurt smiled. “Hi, Puck.”

He watched as Puck shifted a little and leaned in closer. “You know, this should have been for you. And, can you believe that Jon’s the best man? I mean, come on, I should have been the best man and you know that.”

Kurt nodded. “Have you met Blaine?” he asked, grabbing onto Blaine’s arm and smiling.

Blaine extended his hand. “Hi.”

“What’s up, dude?” Puck said in return, strongly gripping Blaine’s hand. “So, do you work with Kurt?”

“Oh, excuse us.” Kurt smiled, leading Blaine in the opposite direction.

“Is it something kinky?” Puck called after them.

Kurt rolled his eyes. Yeah, Puck hadn’t changed. And he was kind of wishing that Puck was the best man. At least Kurt wouldn’t feel incredibly awkward the entire time. He grabbed Blaine’s hand and pulled him into the coat room. Neither of them were wearing overcoats but he needed a quiet place to talk to Blaine before he led him into the snake pit.

He stopped and turned, staring at Blaine. “All right, we need a story. You’re… a therapist, we just started dating, and you’re crazy about me.”

He let go of Blaine’s hand and dug into his pocket. “Count it, six thousand, even.” He handed Blaine the envelope and nervously crossed his arms over his chest.

“Oh, I trust you,” Blaine said, taking the envelope.

“No… count it,” Kurt said, stopping him from putting it away.

Blaine sighed. “All right.” He took the money out of the envelope and began scrolling it through his fingers, counting as the bills flew by, Kurt counting along with him just to make sure.

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll cover expenses, but if you want to be intimate, we talk money first,” Blaine said, gruffly, still thumbing through the bills.

Kurt scoffed. “That won’t be an issue, believe me. I find the idea of sex for money morally repugnant.” He instantly wanted to slap himself. Why had he said that out loud? Blaine was giving him a look that Kurt couldn’t even decipher. “I’m sorry. No offense.”

Blaine folded the bills back into the envelope and placed them in the inside pocket of his jacket. “Do me a favor? Quit apologizing. If you just look at this as a simple business transaction, maybe you won’t feel so compelled to keep saying sorry.”

“Sorry,” Kurt spat out, looking at the floor.

“It’s also really annoying,” Blaine commented lightly as he headed for the door.

Kurt’s eyebrows furrowed. What had just happened? Did Blaine just insult him? He turned around and followed Blaine out of the coat room, immediately grabbing his hand as they headed towards the bar area. He scanned the room before entering it fully. This was going to be harder than he thought; there were just so many people. So many people he knew and so many he didn’t. At least those people didn’t have any knowledge about his sad life, but there were still a lot of people who did.

“Kurt, what happened to you? I thought maybe something went wrong and you couldn’t get here,” Burt said, wrapping his arms around his son in a tight hug.

“Wow, Dad, you haven’t changed. Still worrying about me,” Kurt said, hugging him back.

“Well, now that you’re up in the big city, I need to keep tabs on you somehow.” Burt smiled, letting go of Kurt and turning toward Blaine. “And who’s this?”

“Hi, I’m the new guy. Great to meet you, Mr. Hummel,” Blaine greeted him warmly, shaking the older man’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, too. This is my wife, Carole,” Burt said, stepping to the side slightly, revealing Carole.

She came up and enveloped both of them in a hug. “All right, this is a marathon, not a sprint. We’ve got welcome cocktails today, young people in the park followed by the parties, and then Friday is the picnic and rehearsal dinner.” She sped on, leading them deeper into the sea of people. “And since you have so foolishly left no time for jet lag at all, you two need to hydrate.”

Kurt nodded. “We will, Carole.” He looked to his father again, who was still smiling as he joined Carole.

“Kurt!”

He turned at the sound of his name and saw Rachel running towards him, her arms outstretched. “Kurt! Oh, I’m getting married! Oh, Kurtsy!” she exclaimed, hugging him tightly.

“Hi, Rachel,” Kurt said, awkwardly trying to hug her back as she started spinning them in circles.

“Oh, I missed you so much! Gosh, who’s the hunky, huh? Nice!” she said, squeezing him and then letting him go, running off towards someone else shouting at them.

Kurt stood there, staring at her and then turned back to Blaine, who was holding a drink for him.

“Thank you,” he said, gratefully taking it from Blaine and bringing it to his lips.

He heard the clinking of glass and turned in his spot, facing a small stage that was set up. Knowing that this was for Rachel, there was going to be a stage. He wouldn’t be surprised if she serenaded everyone with various wedding songs. He saw two men standing there, smiling at everyone and his face paled.

“Oh sweet Jesus, who gave those men an amp?” Kurt muttered as the Berrys took the small stage that was set up.

“All right, it’s finally working. Everyone have a drink? Welcome, friends and family. Hiram and I are so happy that you’re here to celebrate with us as we welcome Finn and the Hummel-Hudsons into our family,” Leroy Berry said, smiling.

“You know, it’s funny. We thought that we would have had the chance to plan a wedding already,” Hiram said, directing his gaze towards Kurt and lingering there. “We had good reason to hope and we were very close, but as you know, that crashed and burned.”

Shifting uncomfortably, Kurt felt a hand rest on the small of his back. He cast his eyes towards his feet as the Berrys continued their dueling speeches. He could feel the eyes on him, everyone just staring and thinking all of the things he had thought at one point or another for the past two years. The hand on his back was gently rubbing small circles and he glanced back, seeing that Blaine was watching the Berrys compete with each other, telling the story of how Kurt had almost had a wedding and all the while doing his level best to soothe Kurt. Then, suddenly, there was a piano being played discordantly. Kurt’s head shot up and he saw Jonathan, standing by the piano, one hand resting on the keys and smiling sheepishly.

“To the bride and groom!” Burt cheered, raising the glass in his hand, followed by Carole.

“Yes, to the bride and groom to be. Finn, we’re so happy that you fell in love with the girl next door. Our Rachel.” Leroy smiled, holding his glass up. “Cheers.”

----

Kurt came out of the bathroom and pulled the jacket down, straightening it. He looked up to see Jonathan standing there in front of him, staring at him. He stopped and smiled tightly. “Jonathan.”

Kurt noted the small smile that was playing on Jonathan’s lips. “Wow, you look… gorgeous,” the other man said, wrapping his arms around Kurt, holding him all too close.

Kurt’s arms were limp at his sides and he simply rested his head on Jonathan’s shoulder and closed his eyes, remembering the many times that he had done that; been enveloped in Jonathan’s arms. It used to be comforting. Right now, he wasn’t so sure it was anymore. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling. So many times, Kurt would just sit in his apartment and replay the entire relationship over and over in his mind, trying to see what he had done to warrant Jonathan’s sudden dislike. Kurt never came up with anything. He couldn’t find anything wrong. He hadn’t been needy or too cutesy or too over bearing. Kurt felt that he was the perfect partner. Apparently, he had been wrong.

He felt Jonathan let go and he stood there, only a few inches away from his ex-fiancé, just staring at him. Kurt did have to admit that he still looked amazing. Why couldn’t he have gotten fat or started going bald? That would have made this easier for him.

“How’ve you been, Ku—”

“Oh my god! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, Kurt, Kurt!”

Kurt felt himself being pulled away from Jonathan and into a hug. He smiled. “Hi, Santana.”

“Where the hell have you been? I have gynecologists that call more often than you do,” she told him, pulling away slightly.

“You have more than one gynecologist?” he asked, a tad uncomfortably.

“Of course! You have to play them off against each other; otherwise they think you’re easy,” she said, winking at him and then turning to Jonathan. “Hello, asshole. Listen, since you dumped my friend here brutally and without cause, you won’t mind if I steal him away from you, will you? Thanks.”

She dragged Kurt down the hallway and back towards the main room.

“Thank you,” Kurt muttered, sighing in relief as they entered the main room once more.

“I wasn’t saving you from him; I was saving you from yourself,” she told him, taking a quick sip of her drink. “You, my friend, are too freaking nice.”

Kurt couldn’t really say when he and Santana started getting closer. It was probably around the same time that he and Rachel started drifting apart. Through high school he and Rachel had their ups and downs like any friendship, but she was undoubtedly his best friend. After a few years of dating Jonathan, though, they started to not spend as much time with each other. Kurt chalked it up to both of them having significant others at the time. He knew that once you entered a relationship with someone, you’d spend more time with them and not who you normally did. Kurt was prepared for that and he really didn’t mind it. He was in love with Jonathan and was more than happy to be spending more time with him.

Just when he was beginning to feel the strain on his relationship with Rachel, he had bumped into Santana at a bar. She was there to listen to his problems about Rachel and being in a relationship. She actually helped him through a lot. When Jonathan dumped him, Santana was the first person he had called. It also seemed like she was more upset than he was. She was shouting obscenities into the phone and he couldn’t help but smile through his tears, happy to know that at least someone out there cared.

Kurt picked up another drink and downed it in one gulp. “By the way, did you bring a date?

“Why waste one more minute on that horse's ass when Mr. Tie-Me-Up-Tie-Me-Down is standing right over there?” she gasped, ignoring Kurt's question and looking at Blaine. “What does he do for a living?”

“Therapist,” Kurt said, staring at Blaine along with Santana.

Blaine turned around and saw them looking. He winked in their direction and then turned back to the ladies that he was talking to.

“Oh god, I think I just came,” Santana deadpanned.

“I thought you were a lesbian?” Kurt asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a good body when I see one,” she clarified, shrugging one shoulder and smirking up at him in a way that was positively filthy.

---

Standing at the bar with Blaine, Kurt was doing everything in his power to avoid the gazes. It wasn’t going so well. Every now and then he would glance up in a direction and see at least one person staring at him with a sympathetic, pitying look plastered on their face. He hated being pitied. He was a strong person. He wasn’t some… precious doll that had to be taken care of. Sure, he liked to be taken care of, but who didn’t?

He reached his hand out and picked up the gin that Blaine had ordered for him. The glass hadn’t even touched his lips when a voice came screeching to his ears.

“Can I have that?”

Turning his head, his eyes rested on Rachel. She did look amazing; he had to hand it to her. He was so happy that she had opted to not wear anything from her high school collection. The look was still very her, though. He placed the glass back down onto the bar in the space between them. Expecting her to pick it up, he started to turn away when he heard a low noise that made his head snap back in her direction. Rachel was now moving her fingers and smiling. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and gently pushed the glass towards her. She plucked a straw from a nearby holder and placed it in the drink, taking a dainty sip.

Kurt turned back towards the bartender, intending to order another drink, when Blaine gave him his and ordered himself another one. Well, at least someone’s selfless, Kurt thought, taking the glass from Blaine and smiling a little.

“Kurt, you know why I love this?” Rachel asked, reaching her hand across the bar.

“Because the world finally has a reason to revolve around you?” Kurt countered, placing his hand on top of hers and smiling.

“Exactly.” She grinned, squeezing his hand lightly before letting it go.

Finn came up behind Rachel and placed his arms around her waist. “And how is my future wife?”

“Perfect, I’m all ginny,” she said, tapping his nose with her finger.

Kurt wanted to gag. It was so sickeningly sweet and he just didn’t know if he could take any more of it. He brought his hands together and placed them under his chin, staring at them with wide eyes as they kissed. He was surprised he hadn’t vomited yet, but carefully arranged his features into a mask of indifference as they both turned to look at him.

“I’m just the luckiest guy on earth,” Finn said, smiling.

Kurt felt Blaine’s arm around his shoulder and saw his hand in his periphery. Kurt grabbed it and leaned into him, returning their happy and contented look.

“Well, I’ll dance to that,” Rachel said, bringing their arms together in a tango pose, thus causing them to fall to the ground.

Kurt leaned forward to make sure they were all right, but they bounced right back up.

“You see, that’s what he gets for not taking dance lessons until two days before the wedding,” Rachel laughed.

“Come on, who takes lessons for a wedding?” Finn asked, incredulously.

“Just about everybody,” Blaine commented, squeezing Kurt’s hand lightly.

Finn just stared at him, disbelieving. “You’re kidding?”

“Look, we’ll go with you,” Blaine reassured him.

“I don’t even know you, hunky dunky, and I love you already,” Rachel said, picking up her glass and taking a drink.

---

Having his parents drive them back to the house had not been Kurt’s idea. He was comfortable with taking a cab, but his father had all but insisted on driving them—they were going to the same place after all. Kurt did find the drive a little comforting, though, seeing his old neighborhood and how much it hadn’t changed. Kurt loved change but he was happy that this place had remained constant, untouched. Unloading all of Kurt’s bags had proved a challenge for the foursome, but in the end they managed.

The house was the same, too. Kurt walked up the stairs to his old room, gently peeking in the door. It had been untouched other than some light dusting here and there. He smiled awkwardly, looking at his parents and Blaine, an uncomfortable silence befalling them.

“Thanks again for having me,” Blaine interjected smoothly.

“Don’t mention it. Although, to be honest, I didn’t even know you existed,” Burt said, looking between them both.

Kurt shifted his weight onto his left leg. “Um, where is Blaine going to sleep?” he directed at his father. After a few moments of silence he turned to Blaine. “My father has this rule about two unmarried people sleeping in the –”

“Nonsense. He’ll just stay with you,” Burt said, pushing the bags he had carried further onto the landing near Kurt’s door. “My son seems to think that I live in the dark ages or something.”

Kurt’s eyes were wide. He hadn’t been expecting that, at all, and wasn't sure what to think about it. Maybe he’d sneak into Finn’s room and—no, God, no. With the way Finn kept his room, who knew what was living in there? He watched as his parents turned and walked back down the stairs, leaving him and Blaine alone on the landing.

“Shall we?” Blaine asked, gently pushing the door open with his sock-clad foot and heading in.

Kurt followed him, picking up another bag and setting it on the far side of the room near the bathroom. It was quiet, for which Kurt was actually quite thankful. He didn’t know if he could talk about the sleeping arrangements just yet. He still needed to figure out if he’d be sneaking out to sleep on the couch and then sneaking back in so his parents didn’t think anything was strange. Blaine had set the rest of the bags near the one on the far side of the room, while Kurt picked one up and placed it on his bed.

“Hanson?”

Kurt looked up at Blaine’s voice and saw that he was standing in front of the open closet that Kurt rarely used when he lived there, a Hanson poster still taped on the inside. Blaine was smirking and Kurt all but ran over to the door and tore the poster off of it. He didn’t say anything to Blaine. He crumpled up the poster, grabbed his skin care bag and walked into the bathroom, tossing the poster into the trash bin to his left. “Everyone only knows their greatest hits. Some of their lesser known ballads are extremely poignant,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

He set the bag on the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked terrible. Planes did not do him justice. He began an abbreviated version of his skin regime, knowing as he did that there were still a few things to discuss with Blaine. Kurt picked out a cleaning cloth and closed his eyes, feeling the cool cleanser against his skin. It was soothing and that was something Kurt needed.

“Is that a habit from ballet class or from a lifetime of walking on eggshells?”

Kurt’s head snapped to look at Blaine, who was sitting comfortably on Kurt’s bed, watching him curiously. Kurt followed Blaine’s gaze to his own feet; he hadn’t realized that he was up on his tip-toes. He used to do that all of the time when he was younger, before he grew those extra inches into the man he was today. It just must be subconscious for him now.

He walked towards the door. “I never took ballet.” He kicked the door closed with his right foot and turned back to the mirror.

He sighed. This was going to be hard at best and extremely awkward at worst. Why didn’t he just decline? Oh yeah, Rachel was his best friend even though he hadn’t had a conversation with her since he left for New York two years ago. She also wanted him to be her man of honor. That was something he had to think about long and hard. He knew that Jonathan was going to be the best man. He and Finn were best friends and it was expected that Finn would ask Jonathan.

Finn hadn’t known anything, either. He had been just as shocked as Kurt had been when Jonathan had dumped him. Finn wanted to confront Jon about it, but Kurt told him not to. It wouldn’t have done either of them any good and Kurt had been hurting at the time. He didn’t even want to hear Jonathan’s name. Instead, he and Finn cooked. Well, Kurt cooked, Finn ate.

After a few minutes, Kurt looked at himself. It would have to do for now. He opened the door again and saw that Blaine was now standing, looking at all of the pictures and books that Kurt had on his shelves. Kurt started digging through his bag again, unpacking.

“You mind if I take a quick shower?” Blaine asked. “I want to wash off the smell of the plane.”

Kurt didn’t look up. “Yeah, go ahead.” He wanted to get the majority of his things unpacked, especially his suits. Those had to be hung. They’d wrinkle if they weren’t and he couldn’t have that. He quickly pulled out a few loose papers and tossed them idly on the bed.

“How did you know that was me?”

At this, Kurt looked up. Blaine was pointing towards the papers and he glanced over. The New York Times. He mentally slapped himself for being so careless. “I have a friend at the magazine.”

“So much for anonymity,” Blaine muttered, unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off.

Kurt looked up and then quickly looked away. Why was he undressing there? Why wasn’t he doing that in the bathroom… with the door shut?

Blaine smirked at Kurt’s fidgeting. “Go ahead, take a look. It’s part of the package.”

Kurt looked at Blaine again and started laughing. It was quite possibly the world’s most uncomfortable laugh. He instantly shut up in fear of saying something after the horrid laugh. He didn’t let his eyes linger, but he kept glancing up. Blaine’s pants were off and he was folding them at the crease. Well, at least he knew how to fold suit pants properly.

He started walking towards the bathroom, humming the notes of “MMMBOP” as he made his way past Kurt. Kurt’s eyes narrowed and he turned to glare at Blaine but instead was greeted by Blaine tugging off his briefs and turning on the water.

His mouth had dropped open and he whipped his head back. He had just seen Blaine’s ass. He wasn’t supposed to have seen that. He was supposed to have glared at Blaine who was supposed to be smirking at him… not taking off his underwear and stepping into the shower.

“Hey, could you bring me my shampoo?” Blaine called.

“Shampoo, got it!” Kurt called back, grabbing the bottle and all but running into the bathroom to hand it over.

He walked back out and grabbed the torn out pages of the New York Times and turned on his heel, heading back into the bathroom. He stood against the door-frame and cleared his throat, “Um… the part where you were a sexual surrogate and then started to… branch out… is that really true?”

Kurt couldn’t believe how awkward he was being. He should be confident about this. It was just a normal conversation between two grown adults… one of whom was just being incredibly awkward and stupid. He walked into the bathroom, sitting down on the toilet lid when Blaine began to speak.

“The real story? My mother was a hippie and a stripper. She was insanely inappropriate with me,” he said, peeking out from behind the curtain and then closing it again. “So, as an adult, I needed to find way to experience intimacy and sex but with rules that couldn’t be violated.”

Kurt just stared at the curtain, his jaw hanging open. “Wow,” he muttered, still staring.

Blaine peeked out again, smirking. “I’m just screwing with you.”

Kurt glared slightly, grabbed a towel and tossed it at Blaine. “You shit.”

The tap was turned off and the water stopped flowing. Kurt grabbed the pages and brought them to his face, turning on the seat to face the wall behind him. “Okay, this part, you say, and I quote, ‘Every person has the exact love life they want’.” The shower curtain had been flung open and he turned in his spot on the toilet seat. “I think that’s a broad generalizATION!” He shouted the last part, eyes wide with the sight before him.

Blaine was completely, stark naked. Just standing there in front of him. No clothes… no towel covering him… dripping wet… and naked. Kurt was just staring at him… Well, not him, really… it. Kurt covered his mouth and turned around, facing the wall. He glanced back again. Was he really still standing there naked? Yes. Yes he was.

He turned back towards the wall, covering his eyes. “Do you honestly believe that I want to be single and miserable? Do you think that I want to be hung up on some guy who led me on for years and just dumped me out of the blue?”

“Well, first of all, there’s no such thing as ‘out of the blue’ and second of all, yeah,” Blaine said, drying his hair with the towel and shoving the curls out of his face.

Kurt’s upper body turned and he stared at Blaine’s face in disbelief. “What?!”

“When you’re ready to let go, you will.” Blaine wrapped the towel around his waist, still looking into Kurt’s eyes. “Till then…” He shrugged and walked out of the bathroom, Kurt’s eyes following him.

A few hours had passed and Kurt stared at his bed. Blaine was on the right side of it, already settled in and starting to fall asleep. He was naked. Well, he had boxer briefs on, but that was still not enough clothing for Kurt to be comfortable with. Thus, Kurt was piling the pillows and extra blankets between them, creating a barrier. He didn’t want to roll over in the middle of the night and feel something that he shouldn’t be feeling.

“So, when you were talking to Jonathan before, how did he sound?” Kurt asked, uneasily, still packing up the barrier between them.

Blaine turned his head slightly and rolled his eyes at Kurt’s actions. “Like a harmless, self-absorbed toolbox,” he commented.

Kurt stopped and huffed. “Seriously.”

“He sounded tormented,” Blaine said, shifting as Kurt kept piling the pillows.

“Tormented how? Like he’s jealous that I’m here with someone else, or like he regrets throwing away our life together?” Kurt asked, plopping another pillow in-between them.

He looked over and saw that Blaine’s eyes were closed and his breathing was steady. Kurt watched for a moment as Blaine’s chest rose and fell. It was actually kind of sweet. He shook his head and shoved one last pillow on the top and picked up the blankets on his side of the bed, sliding in between them and glancing up for a moment.

He sat up on his side and reached over the barrier, looking at Blaine. “H-hey Blaine…” he whispered.

Seeing that he wasn’t going to be getting an answer, he rolled back and almost fell right off of the bed but caught himself and pulled himself back in, wrapping the blanket around him.

He sighed and crossed his arms over the blankets, staring up at the ceiling. “He seems more mature.”