“What do you mean, Blaine’s not coming?” Kurt asked Alice, brow furrowing. “She’s his grandmother.”

Alice looked a bit shifty-eyed. “Well,” she said, “We were thinking . . . That we could make this into a combo-deal.”

Kurt sighed. “Combo-deal?” he asked wearily.

“Blaine’s going to go out with his father and some of his friends,” Alice said, and Kurt suddenly wondered if Sebastian would be among them. He nearly didn’t hear what Alice said next through the haze of red. “--you with Gammy and me and the girls.”

“What?” Kurt asked, irritated now.

“Well, we thought this could be your bachelor party!” Alice exclaimed. “We invited our girlfriends and they’re all up for it.” She paused, then added hurriedly, “We thought it’d be easier if you did it with us instead of Thomas.”

Kurt sighed. He couldn’t fault them that. “More of a bachlorette party then, isn’t it?” he asked wryly.

Alice worried her lip. “I hope that doesn’t offend you,” she said. “I know that Sebastian was always angry whenever I slipped up about that.”

Kurt felt another flash of anger and shoved it down. “Unlike Sebastian, I have no problem connecting with my feminine side,” Kurt told her frankly. “And you’re right, at least with you and Gammy I’d be comfortable. No offense to your husband, of course.”

“None taken,” Alice said, smiling again. “Now, hurry up and get dressed! Our dinner reservation is at seven, and then the fun begins!” She hurried away.

“Fun?” Kurt asked the empty hall, feeling strangely apprehensive.

-

Kurt was starting to think he should have told Alice no to the bachelorette party - in fact, he was starting to think that he should have just quietly been deported to Canada.

“Isn’t it crazy?” one of Alice’s friends, Holly, screamed in his ear.

Around them, the bar was throbbing with music, people dancing wildly. Kurt couldn’t even recognize it as the same bar from that afternoon.

“Yeah!” he yelled back, unenthused. 

“Come on, Alice wants you!” Holly yelled, grabbing his hand and dragging him through the throngs of people.

At their table, Alice was sitting with her girlfriends and Gammy, shot glasses littered in front of them. She motioned for Kurt to sit down. Kurt made to sit in the chair next to her.

“No!” Alice said, giggling. “No, sit in this one!” she motioned at the chair next to Gammy. 

Kurt frowned, but sat there instead. Almost instantly, a spotlight appeared on him. Kurt blinked into the light, wondering why the hell a bar had a spotlight.

“Ladies!” the bartender crowed into a microphone, grinning from ear to ear. “Just for this special occasion, we are proud to present, the one, the only--White Chocolate!” 

Heavy dance music came from the speakers. Kurt watched with horror as the front door to the bar was flung open dramatically to reveal a tall blond man wearing little more than a pair of ragged shorts. Cat calls and whistles sounded throughout the bar, but the so-called White Chocolate took no notice of them - instead, he headed straight for Kurt. Kurt gulped a little - White Chocolate was a ridiculous name, even for a stripper, but Kurt couldn’t deny that he was very, very good-looking.

“Are you Kurt?” White Chocolate asked, smiling a little.

“Yes?” Kurt said, before he realized he should have said no. Not that it would have mattered - he was the only guy in a sea of females, White Chocolate would have figured it out eventually. 

White Chocolate’s smile widened. “I won’t embarrass you too much,” he promised, then started swinging his hips to the music, stalking closer to Kurt.

Kurt shielded his eyes, face burning. He could see Alice and Gammy gasping with laughter out of the corner of his eye and vowed that he would have revenge, if it was the last thing he did. He peeked through his fingers only to get a faceful of White Chocolate’s crotch.

“Oh God,” he said faintly.

-

“I’m so sorry,” Kurt said, after, when the party was over and people were pouring out of the bar. White Chocolate, whose real name was Sam Evans, grinned at him. “I mean, I’m sure you don’t usually perform on guys--”

Sam waved a hand. “No problem, dude,” he said. “Same basic stuff.”

Kurt gaped at him. He knew a lot of straight guys - sometimes he thought he knew too many straight guys - and he was pretty sure that none of them, not one, would be comfortable giving him a lap dance. Then again, not many of them would be comfortable being a stripper either, so.

“Thanks?” he said uncertainly. He spotted Gammy and Alice stumbling out of the door together, arms locked across each other’s shoulders. “I’d better get going.”

Sam’s grin widened. He really did have an extraordinarily big mouth. “I’ll catch you later, dude. You’re the wedding tomorrow, yeah?”

Kurt wondered if there was anyone in Sitka who wasn’t coming. “Yeah,” he said tightly. “That’d be me.”

“Awesome. Good job catching Blaine - he’s a huge fish, dude, and he’s really nice.” Sam held out a fist. Kurt stared at it for a long moment, then sighed. What the hell, he was in a fake pretend engagement with his unfairly attractive assistant. He gently bumped Sam’s fist with his own and turned on his heel, marching towards Gammy and Alice, who were both extraordinarily drunk. 

“Sweet cheeks!” Gammy yelled, surprisingly loud for such an old woman. “How’d you like your stripper?”

“Very thoughtful of you,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes and relaxing a bit. “Can we go back to the house now?” He paused, eyed them both. “Can either of you even get us home?”

“Thad will take us!” Alice declared, giggling. “Thad does everything for us!”

As if by magic, Thad suddenly appeared. Kurt was slowly becoming convinced that Thad was either telepathic or had some sort of Anderson-sense that sounded whenever someone in the family needed him. 

“The boat’s nearby,” Thad said, grinning a little bit. “Shall we help them there, Mr. Hummel?”

“Please just call me Kurt,” Kurt said wearily. “Yeah, let’s get them into the boat.”

-

The house was quiet when they got back, but after Kurt and Thad managed to get Alice and Gammy to their beds, he went back to the bedroom to find Blaine already there, asleep on his side of the bed. Kurt frowned, staring down at him. He didn’t look liked he’d gone to sleep wasted - Kurt could see the edge of his pajamas from where the covers had slipped down. He wondered when Blaine had gotten back. 

He tried to stay quiet as he moved about the room, getting ready for bed. However, by the time he left the bathroom after his moisturizing routine, Blaine was sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes.

“Kurt?” he murmured, voice thick with sleep.

“Go back to sleep, Blaine,” Kurt said, crossing the room on bare feet. 

“How was your thing?” Blaine asked, sliding back down in bed, eyes fluttering. “Did it go okay?”

Kurt slipped under the covers. “It was until your crazy relatives decided to hire a male stripper for me,” he said wryly.

Blaine sat up straight, eyes opening wide. “They got you a stripper?!” he exclaimed.

Kurt laughed. “Sam Evans? He goes by White Chocolate, apparently.”

Blaine groaned, covering his face. “I am so sorry. I didn’t think they’d go that far.”

“It wasn’t horrible,” Kurt assured him. “Really awkward, but not horrible.”

Blaine glanced at him, lip quirking. “Not horrible?” he asked. “Wow. Sitka is good for you, Kurt. A week ago, you would’ve run out of there screaming.”

Kurt huffed. “I would not have!” he protested. He paused, then laughed a little. “Maybe I would have,” he admitted. “But you have to admit, getting a lap dance from a stripper called White Chocolate is a little . . . .”

“Out there?” Blaine suggested.

Kurt laughed again. “Yeah,” he agreed. He stared up at the ceiling. “Your town is crazy.”

“It is, yeah,” Blaine said. He added, more quietly, “I’ve missed it, though.”

Kurt bit his lip, then asked before he could stop himself, “Would you leave New York for it?”

Blaine was silent for a long time. Kurt almost thought he’d fallen asleep before he said, “No, I don’t think so.” Kurt relaxed, tension he didn’t even realize he’d had leaving him. “I love New York. I love working with music, even if it’s as your assistant.” Blaine laughed. “And now I actually get to produce! There’s no way I’m leaving.” He turned to look at Kurt, and Kurt could see the glint of teeth as he smiled, even in the darkness of the room. “Would you miss me?”

“Absolutely not,” Kurt sniffed. “If you left, I’d actually be able to get a competent assistant for once.”

Blaine nudged his shoulder. “You’d miss me,” he said, almost sing-song. 

Kurt was beginning to flush. “Shut up,” he snapped. Blaine shook with laughter.

“Don’t feel bad, Kurt,” he said, voice choked with humor. “I’d probably miss you too.”

Kurt couldn’t stop the flush of warmth in his chest at that, though he tried his best to. “Go to sleep, Blaine.”

There was silence for a long time. Kurt nearly drifted off himself when Blaine said, sudden and quiet, “We’re getting married tomorrow.”

“Not really,” Kurt corrected, half-asleep. “It’s just pretend.”

Blaine huffed. “My entire family will think I’m married. My entire town will. How is that pretend?”

Kurt woke up a little more. “Do you want to back out of it?” he asked, a little panicked. If Blaine got cold feet--

“No,” Blaine said, and Kurt relaxed. “I just--Don’t you find it strange? Won’t your--” Blaine stopped. “Oh.”

Kurt froze again. “Yes,” he said, a little icy. “Oh.”

“Kurt, you know--”

“I don’t care that she’ll ask,” Kurt snapped, already knowing where Blaine was going with this. “I’m not telling you about it. No.”

“Kurt,” Blaine said, sitting up on his elbows. Kurt could see the glint of his eyes in the dark, the shadowy outline of his face. “Tell me. Please?”

Kurt turned away from him. “Go to sleep, Blaine.”

A pause. “When I was fifteen, my dad got this old car from a dealer in Juneau and brought it back for us to fix up. This was . . . the summer after I came out, I think? We spent all summer on that car. It just got worse and worse.”

“So?” Kurt asked, too unsettled to be anything other than snide.

Blaine huffed. “Do you think my dad wanted to fix up a car with me to spend time with me? He did it because he thought that maybe if I got my hands dirty, I would go back to being straight. As if it’s that easy. As if I’d want to.”

Kurt tentatively turned back towards him. “You really think that?”

“You’ve met him, haven’t you?” Blaine asked, falling back on the bed with a thump. “He’s been like that every since I came out. He’s never thrown me out or even been horrible about it, but there’s always the little comments--about how I’m not a real man, how he wants grandchildren, that sort of thing. Little digs that he knows I’ll understand.”

“My dad,” Kurt started before he could stop himself. He paused, took a deep breath. “My dad said he already knew when I came out to him.” Kurt smiled a little. “He said he’d known ever since I was three. I asked for a pair of sensible heels for my birthday.”

Blaine laughed, so fond that it made Kurt’s chest ache a little. “Sounds like you.”

Kurt took another deep breath. He was getting married to this man, forced or not. And Blaine was--Blaine was--

Blaine was kindness, wrapped up in a pocket-sized human body, Blaine was generosity and fond, crinkly-eyed smiles, Blaine was nice to old women on the street and probably picked up stray animals to bring home and nurse to health because he was just--nice. Too nice. Kurt had thought, for a long time, that Blaine managed to stay so long as his assistant because of his determination, his perseverance, or some sort of sheer bloody-mindedness. And, yes, those things helped him. But Blaine also managed because he--cared about Kurt. 

They weren’t friends, not really. It was hard to be friends with someone you ordered around. But Blaine made sure Kurt’s coffee was made just the way he liked it, Blaine went to the pharmacy on days that Kurt had migraines without needing to be asked. Blaine made Kurt chicken noodle soup when he was sick (exactly three times in the three years they’d known each other). Blaine did stupid, crazy things like agreeing to marry his boss because he was about to get deported. 

So he could do this. Blaine was safe.

“My dad--he was like that most of the time,” Kurt said, extremely aware of Blaine lying a few inches away. “He supported me no matter what I did. I wanted to be on Broadway in high school - even applied to NYADA. My dad’s face when I made the final cut--” Kurt shook his head. “He was so happy for me. He always just wanted me to be happy.” He cleared his throat. Beside him, Blaine was silent, attentive.

“In my junior year, he had a huge heart attack. He recovered, but it made him really weak. He, um, had another heart attack my freshman year of college. He went into a coma for months.” Kurt cleared his throat again. His eyes were burning. “He had a mini heart attack when he was comatose and he, um, died during it.”

Kurt jumped when Blaine’s hand folded over his, tangling their fingers together. “Kurt,” he said, voice so soft. “I’m sorry--I had no idea.”

Kurt chuckled humorlessly. “No one does, at the studio. I don’t talk about him much.” He shrugged. “My mother died when I was kid. I have a step-mother, Carole, and she’s great, but . . . . Well, I think losing two husbands was too much for her. She up and moved to Australia.” Blaine made a surprised noise and Kurt laughed, this time with a little less bitterness. “I know, right? She actually loves it there. We Facebook sometimes.”

“You don’t have anyone else?” Blaine asked. Kurt would have kicked him if there’d been pity in his voice, but he could only hear honest curiosity.

“I have a distant aunt,” Kurt said. “My grandmother lives in Florida, but we’ve never been close. She didn’t approve of my mother marrying my father. My step-brother, Finn, still lives in Lima, but . . . Well, we fell out of touch.” More like Kurt had pushed Finn out of his life. Finn, once he decided to, cared too much. Kurt had just wanted him to stop. Finn had eventually stopped trying to call, to come up and see him. Kurt wished he could have been relieved, but instead all he felt was disappointment that his so-called brother had given up on him so easily.

Blaine squeezed his hand. “I’m so sorry,” he said, “about your dad.” Blaine paused, then said, “Is that what your tattoo is about?”

Kurt laughed. “You’ve been really curious about that, haven’t you?”

“So, so curious,” Blaine admitted without shame.

“Well, you’re right, it does have to do with him. It’s a small one,” Kurt said. “Just the date that he died. It’s above my heart.”

Blaine reached over and put a hand over Kurt’s chest. “I think he’d like it,” he said, his mouth too close to Kurt’s ear, breath fanning over the sensitive skin. Kurt shivered.

“We’d better get to bed,” he said, squirming away from Blaine. Blaine’s hand tightened on his. “Long day tomorrow, after all.”

There was a long pause. “Alright,” Blaine said, finally. “Goodnight, Kurt.”

“Goodnight,” Kurt said and closed his eyes, trying to ignore how warm Blaine’s hand was in his.

-

A knock on the door woke Kurt.

“Kurt! Blaine! We have breakfast!”

“No,” Blaine muttered into his pillow. Kurt wanted to agree with him. 

The door opened to reveal Alice and Gammy, both grinning. They had a tray with them that was stuffed with breakfast foods. Kurt sat up, only to be tugged back to the bed by Blaine. He blushed when he realized that they were still holding hands.

“Too early,” Blaine muttered.

“It’s already ten, Blaine,” Kurt told him, feeling a bit more awake. Carefully, he untangled their fingers and sat up. “Good morning, Alice, Gammy.”

They grinned at him. “Good morning, Kurt!” Alice said, setting the tray across his lap. “How was your night?”

Kurt looked at them suspiciously. “Why aren’t you both hungover?” he asked. “You drank the night away.”

“Gammy has a special hangover remedy,” Blaine said, voice still thick with sleep, sitting up. He leaned his head against Kurt’s shoulder. Kurt tensed, but Blaine didn’t seem to notice as he picked up a piece of bacon from one of the plates. “It’s a miracle-worker.”

Gammy winked. “Learned it from your great-Gammy, Blaine. She made it up for great-Grandpa all the time. That man was such an old drunkard.” 

Alice sat down on the edge of the bed. “Are you ready for tonight?” she asked, smiling. “We were thinking of starting the ceremony at six, if that’s alright with you?”

“That sounds fine,” Kurt said, attempting to ignore the warm weight on his shoulder. 

“Will you be making your own vows?” Alice asked. 

Kurt tensed. Blaine lifted his head off of Kurt’s shoulder. 

“Um,” he said.

“I don’t think we’ll have enough time,” Kurt said tersely, nudging Blaine in the side. 

Alice’s eyes widened. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I should have brought it up yesterday.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kurt assured her, relaxing a little. “I’m sure whoever is doing the, uhm, ceremony--”

“Pastor Fabray,” Alice interrupted. “He’ll do a lovely job.”

“Everything’s set then?” Blaine asked, relaxing against Kurt’s side again.

Gammy and Alice exchanged grins. “We’ve got it all in place,” Alice said. “The entire town’s been invited to the reception, but it’ll only be us, your father, and the Pastor at the ceremony itself. I thought you might want to keep it a little more private.”

Kurt sighed with relief. “That sounds perfect, thank you. Where’s the reception?”

“Here, of course,” Gammy said.

Kurt was about to protest, but then he remembered Blaine’s welcome home party. The entire town had fit in the house then, he supposed they could again. It was strange to think that in a few hours he would be, in the eyes of Sitka at least, officially married to Blaine Anderson. Something tightened in his chest as he remembered last night, the way Blaine had held his hand.

“Well, we’ll leave you two to breakfast,” Alice said, standing back up. She reached across and patted Kurt on the knee. “Get ready soon, okay? We’re going to start putting things up for the ceremony soon.”

“Got it,” Blaine said, and Alice and Gammy left.

-

Kurt stared out at the surrounding water, knees drawn to his chest. In the background, he could hear Alice and Blaine chatting as they set up. 

He looked up when he heard footsteps coming towards him. Gammy plopped down next to him, knees creaking. She nudged his shoulder.

“Nobody’s supposed to look that sad on their wedding day, kiddo,” she said.

Kurt smiled a little. “Not a real wedding,” he reminded her. 

Gammy made a face. “It counts,” she said firmly. “Now, come on. Tell Gammy what’s wrong.”

Kurt sighed. “It’s nothing,” he said. “Pre-wedding jitters.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Gammy told him firmly. Kurt glanced at her in surprise and she smiled. “Did Blaine tell you how old I am?” she asked conversationally.

Kurt frowned. “You turned 90 this weekend, didn’t you?”

Gammy winked at him. “If anyone asks, it’s 86, sweet cheeks.” Kurt grinned a little. “Now, I didn’t get to this great old age without gaining some wisdom along the way.” She gave him a look and Kurt’s mouth went dry. “You two aren’t as good of actors as you’d like to think.”

“You know?!” Kurt cried, immediately looking over to see if Alice and Blaine  had heard. When he saw they were still chatting, he turned back to Gammy and lowered his voice. “How--Why haven’t you said anything before this?”

Gammy frowned. “Blaine’s a good kid, Kurt,” she said, more serious than Kurt had ever seen her. “He’s a bit of a dumbass sometimes, but he’s got a good heart in him. If he was pretending to be engaged to his boss, then I’m sure he had a good reason.”

“Why say anything now, then?” Kurt asked, flustered.

Gammy patted his knee. “Because you two are idiots,” she said. “And I saw the way you were looking at him this morning.”

Kurt’s face heated up. “I don’t love him,” he denied immediately.

Gammy looked at him, amused. “I never said anything about loving him, sweet cheeks.”

Kurt’s blush deepened. “It’s a fake marriage,” he muttered, looking away from her. “It doesn’t mean anything. We’ll be married for a year and then we’ll get a quick, easy divorce. That’s what he wants. That’s what I want.”

“You sure about that?” Gammy asked.

Kurt buried his face in his knees. He wasn’t in love with Blaine. But there was something growing there, for him, and he was afraid that marriage would only make it bloom into something more than he was prepared to handle for someone who would never look at him that way. Blaine had Sebastian waiting for him, had any number of potential relationships in New York that would work so much better for him than Kurt, who had spent three years making his life hell. Why would he want anything to do with Kurt after their marriage ended? 

And Kurt wasn’t so sure he could do that anymore. He looked at Blaine and he couldn’t stop thinking about the way his hand felt in Kurt’s, the way his voice was sleep-roughened in the morning, the gentle press of his head against Kurt’s shoulder. The way he smelled, the press of his lips. Kurt thought about doing that, dealing with that, for a year and a part of him just wanted to collapse with exhaustion, because he knew that if he did this, he would end up falling in love with someone who wouldn’t love him back.

He’d been down that road before. He never wanted to do it again.

“I don’t know,” Kurt said to his knees. Gammy patted his back.

“Don’t break his heart,” she advised. She paused, then added, “And protect your own too, sweet cheeks.”

Kurt laughed without humor. “Tall order,” he said.

“I’ve got faith in you both,” Gammy said, then sat up with a creak to her knees and walked away, back to Alice and Blaine.

-

Kurt didn’t get a chance to talk to Blaine before the ceremony started - Alice kept him close by and made him help with a variety of things all day, so they barely had two seconds alone together. Tina came by in the afternoon to give them their final fittings for their suits and, before Kurt knew it, he was waiting in the back room to meet Blaine out in the front. 

He tried to take deep breaths, but it wasn’t working very well - his hands were shaking. Alice peeked her head into the door and grinned at him, glowing as if it was her wedding day instead of her son’s. Kurt’s stomach rolled a little.

“Come on!” she said, grabbing his hand.

She led him out into the backyard. A simple arch had been set up, with a few chairs for Blaine’s family to sit. Blaine stood underneath the arch, next to a blond-haired pastor. An acoustic guitarist stood nearby - as Kurt approached, he started playing. It wasn’t until Kurt was halfway to Blaine that he realized, with horror, that it was Sam Evans.

When Kurt reached Blaine’s side, he whispered out of the corner of his mouth, “Did you see--”

Blaine’s eyes were full of laughter. “My mom has a sense of humor,” he acknowledged quietly, taking Kurt’s hand. Kurt’s skin started tingling.

The pastor smiled at them tightly. “Ready?” he asked, and they nodded. He turned to the small group. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the joining of Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel.”

Kurt’s heart was beating too fast. The pastor continued, talking about love in its many forms, but Kurt wasn’t listening to him. Instead, he stared at Blaine, who had a sharp, square jaw and lovely eyes and hair that needed to be released from its gel immediately. Blaine, who had held his hand last night and kept doing nice things for him.

Blaine, who he was going to fall in love with.

“Wait,” he said, stopping the pastor mid-sentence. Blaine gave him a puzzled look. “No, stop.”

“Kurt?” Blaine asked, brow furrowing further.

“I can’t do this,” Kurt told him, chest too tight. “I’m sorry, I can’t--”

Blaine stared at him, eyes wide. “You can’t--” He shook his head. “Kurt, what are you--”

Kurt looked over at Blaine’s family. Alice was regarding them with wide eyes, hand pressed to her mouth, while Thomas was inscrutable. Gammy looked almost resigned.

“We can’t do this, Blaine,” he said quietly. “This wedding is fake,” he said, more loudly, to Blaine’s family. Alice gasped. “I was--I was going to get deported, so I forced Blaine to pretend to be my fiancee so I could stay and keep my job.”

“Kurt--” Alice said, rising her feet, eyes wide and watery. “Blaine, is this true?”

Blaine looked lost, and he kept glancing between Kurt and his family. “Yes,” he said finally. “It’s true.”

Kurt surveyed them miserably. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have--I’m sorry. I’ll leave tonight.”

“Kurt, you don’t have to--” Blaine started, reaching for his hand. Kurt wretched away from him.

“I’ll leave tonight,” he repeated, then hurried away, trying to ignore the sting in the back of his eyes.

-

Blaine sat on his front porch, staring out into the darkness of his backyard. He didn’t look around when he heard footsteps behind him - or even when someone sat down next to him.

“Is he gone?” his father asked, nudging his shoulder. Blaine drew away from him.

“Yes,” he snapped. “He’s gone, just like you wanted.”

His father was silent for a long time. “Blaine,” he said at last. “You know I’ve always struggled with your . . .”

“Sexuality?” Blaine suggested, on the edge of snide. Kurt was gone and he was too confused and angry to care about being polite to his father.

His father sighed. “Yes,” he said, so wearily that Blaine almost felt guilty. Anger stirred again - he had no reason to feel guilty. “I just always wanted what’s best for you, Blaine.”

“Being myself is what’s best for me,” Blaine snapped.

“It wasn’t when you were in high school,” his father argued. He held up his hands when Blaine opened his mouth, prepared to drive his point. “I’m just--Look, Blaine. What I’m trying to say is that I always thought--thought being gay just made your life harder. I didn’t want that for you--No, let me finish,” he added when Blaine opened his mouth again. Blaine closed it with surprise.

“When you were in high school, you came home beaten so often,” his father continued, more quietly. “I wanted you to live a happy, normal life, and I didn’t think you could get that being the way you are.” He took a deep breath. “But, seeing you with Kurt, I’ve changed my mind.”

Blaine scowled. “Our engagement was all a sham, dad,” he said. “Kurt isn’t in my future, so I guess you can go back to not liking my sexuality.”

His father huffed. “Blaine you’re as stupid as I was when I was your age if you think that kid doesn’t have some sort of feelings for you.”

Blaine’s heart leapt. 

He’d been realizing, over the past couple days, that it was entirely possible that he’d fallen for Kurt sometime in the last three years. Blaine had never let his good feelings about Kurt surface much, since he was sure Kurt would use it against him, but seeing him here, seeing him without his claws constantly out, made those feelings bloom again, and this time Blaine had no excuse to stifle them. He was allowed to look at Kurt and want him, to think Kurt’s laugh was a little too adorable for its own good, to laugh at Kurt’s jokes without sarcasm or derision. He didn’t have to keep up their usual boss-slave relationship and that meant Blaine’s feelings, which had been so easy to keep under wraps when they were in New York, were bursting out of their cage.

He didn’t think Kurt felt the same way about him. Kurt had confided in him, but never given any indication that he wanted something from Blaine. Blaine was pretty sure that Kurt, who was the bluntest person he knew, would have said something if he was developing feelings of any kind.

He remembered Kurt’s quiet, choked voice as he told Blaine about his father, the way he’d just accepted that none of his family members were around. He wondered what Kurt had been like in high school, if he’d held loneliness around him like armor even then. 

“That kid cares about you,” his father said again, startling Blaine. “And if the wedding is a sham, like you said, then I think he might have broken it off because he was afraid you don’t feel the same.”

Blaine blinked. He’d been scrounging his mind for hours, trying to think of why Kurt had changed his mind, why he was willing to go back to Canada rather than marry Blaine. If his dad was right--

“I have to go,” Blaine breathed, getting up and running into the house.

Pavarotti came padding out of the open door and plopped next to Thomas. Thomas sighed, rubbing his fur.

“That’s my boy,” he murmured, a hint of a smile playing at the edge of his mouth.

-

Kurt surveyed the rows of desks in front of him without enthusiasm. Every employee was sitting up straight, looking attentively at their computers or paperwork. Kurt could see the sweat on most of them, but it didn’t bring him the usual amusement. Kurt was pretty sure it was because he could see the empty desk out of the corner of his eye where Blaine usually sat, but he refused to admit it. 

Kurt sighed and turned to go to the elevators. He needed to head out to talk to a photographer from The Rolling Stone about Rachel’s shoot. It was the last thing he was allowed to do before he was shipped off to Canada the next day. He looked down at his watch and cursed when he realized he was running late, picking up speed. Kurt looked up a half-second too late to stop from colliding with someone.

Kurt was about to apologize when he caught whiff of the person’s cologne and he tensed. He pulled away and looked down at Blaine, who was panting and sweaty as if he’d just run a race. Kurt refused to let his imagination run away with a panting and sweaty Blaine.

“Mr. Anderson,” Kurt said icily, attempting to reinforce the distance between them. “It’s about time you got here. I may be leaving tomorrow, but you’re still my assistant until then--”

“Kurt,” Blaine interrupted, eyes shining with some strange emotion. Kurt’s heart leapt. “Kurt, you’re an idiot.”

Kurt spluttered. “Excuse me--”

Blaine put his hands on Kurt’s face, the palms rough against his skin. Kurt flushed. “You’re an idiot,” Blaine said tenderly. “Such a moron--”

“Are you quite done?” Kurt snapped, flush deepening. “I don’t need to be told I’m an idiot three times, thanks.”

Blaine leaned in and Kurt’s heart stuttered. “Moron,” he muttered again, just before his lips brushed Kurt’s. Kurt’s mouth parted with surprise and Blaine took that as an invitation to deepen their kiss. For a moment, Kurt relaxed into it.

Then he remembered who he was kissing.

He broke away, panting. Blaine’s eyes were bright, aroused, but Kurt refused to think about that. “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded. “We’re not engaged anymore! There’s no one to convince here!”

Blaine sighed. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to do this,” he said, and got down on one knee. Kurt stared at him as he took a box out of his pocket and opened it up to reveal--

A ring made of gum wrappers.

Kurt burst out laughing.

“I didn’t have time to get the real thing!” Blaine protested, though he was smiling too. “I made it on the plane trip down here. Carefully he took it out of the box. “Kurt,” he said, more seriously. “Marry me?”

Kurt’s heart stuttered. “You don’t need to do this,” he snapped. “I’m fine going back to Canada--”

Blaine shook his head. “Kurt,” he said more firmly. “I know we’re not in love--not yet.” Kurt stared at him and, slowly, hope bloomed in his chest. “But I don’t want you to leave before we can find out if we are going to fall in love.” He looked down, looking sheepish for the first time. “There’s a moment, when you say to yourself--oh, there you are, I’ve been looking for you forever. Being with you this weekend, seeing you, the real you, for the first time--that was the moment for me about you.” He looked up at Kurt, eyes shining, and Kurt’s throat felt too tight. “Please marry me, Kurt.”

Kurt couldn’t speak. His hands fluttered uselessly and Blaine’s face dropped. Kurt stared at his slumped head, the gum wrapper ring and decided, for the first time in years, to just let go.

“Alright,” he said and Blaine’s head snapped up. “But there have to be some rules. First, I get to insult all previous boyfriends without any limit--” Blaine surged to his feet and cut Kurt off with a kiss. 

When they pulled apart, they were both smiling. “Aren’t you going to give me my ring?” Kurt asked, eyebrow raising. Blaine obediently put it on his finger. Kurt lifted it up to admire it - for a gum wrapper ring, it was actually quite classy. 

Blaine took Kurt’s other hand and beamed at him. “Do you like it?”

Kurt glanced at him, smiled. “Yes, but we’re getting real rings for the wedding.”

Blaine pulled him close and kissed him again. “Of course,” he murmured against Kurt’s mouth. 

Kurt hadn’t been so happy in years as he laced his free hand with Blaine’s and they strode out of the office, ignoring the hundreds of shocked, silent employees that they passed. 

-

The End