"So, tell me Miss Lopez, how do you envision yourself on your wedding day?"

"I wanna look hot."

The designer's brow creased at Santana's reply. "Okay, well…do you have any ideas on what style of dress you would like to wear?"

"Aren't you the designer?" she challenged. "And if what we're paying you is anything to go by, aren't you supposed to be good at it?"

Santana wished that the wedding planner, an annoying piece of woman named Marsha, would handle this, just like she'd been handling every other aspect of the wedding. But no, Dave had double teamed her and insisted that she come this appointment because the dress was "an important part of being a bride" or some shit like that. If this was so important, than why isn't he here? He's the gay guy after all…

"Vera Wang Bridal is one of, if not the, top line of wedding gowns in the world," the Asian woman asserted.

Santana rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed.

"Miss Lopez mentioned she liked Pippa Middleton's dress at the Royal Wedding," Marsha piped up from where she was seated behind Santana.

"Oh?" Vera responded, looking to the Latina for confirmation.

Santana scowled. "Listen, as long as the dress is expensive, not ugly, and I can get my sexy on in it, I really don't give rat's ass what it looks like."

"Perhaps you could skim through the look-books from past seasons and—"

"Ugh, you know what? I'm just going to let my wedding planner handle the rest of this because it's her job and I'm too hung over for this," declared Santana as she gathered her things and stood up. "Plus, it's pretty obvious judging by her man hips, boy tits, and personality of a bug that just won't die no matter how many times you squash it, that no one's ever going to want to marry her anyway. Consultation over."

0-0-0

"I heard you made the wedding planner cry again," said Dave after pecking Santana on the cheek in greeting when she joined him for dinner at The Four Seasons later that evening.

"Ugh, Dave, she is such a pain in the ass," Santana griped as she sat down. "I don't know why you hired her."

"Well, it was only because she's the best in the country," Dave quipped. "But I have a feeling after she's finished working with you, she'll quit the business altogether."

"I'll be doing brides everywhere a favor then," she claimed. A busboy appeared to fill their water glasses and Santana slipped into her role of doting fiancée instantaneously, grabbing Dave's hand and asking him in a chipper tone, "So, how was your day, honey?"

"Long," Dave answered, waiting for the busboy to leave before he continued. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually. My sources have hypothesized that Superman lives on the Upper West Side, so that's where I'd start looking if I were you."

Santana shifted uncomfortably. "Oh, yeah…how's that going by the way? The whole finding out who he really is thing?"

"It's taking longer than I thought," Dave told her. "We've been at it two weeks and I thought we'd have our guy by now, but the men in R&D keep saying that we're on the right track…so, whatever. You know I've never been a patient man."

That's what scares me, she thought to herself.

0-0-0

"Mmmmm," Kurt moaned around Blaine's cock as he spiraled his tongue around the large, thick shaft. He glanced down the length of the bed where Blaine was slurping away at his own erect member, the sight of which caused him to moan again, the vibrations then making Blaine keen himself. Kurt couldn't contain the little shiver that rippled through his body at the realization that this was probably the dirtiest thing he'd ever done.

In the past, the sixty-nine position had always grossed Kurt out when Tina referenced it or a boyfriend requested they try it. He had failed to see the appeal of sticking your face into someone's…but that didn't matter anymore, because sixty-nine-ing with Blaine was hot. He wasn't all too surprised though, since everything Blaine did was hot. Like a couple weeks ago when Kurt got turned on just from watching Blaine brush his teeth, or that time he was pouring coffee…

Kurt was jarred back into the present when Blaine grunted and wrapped his hands around the globes of Kurt's ass, pushing him further into Blaine's mouth. Kurt doubled his efforts on Blaine's cock, he was close…so, so close…just one more—

"Hummel, if I didn't know any better, from the way yours eyes are glazed over and the little bit of drool dribbling out of your mouth, just—" she reached and swiped the drop of moisture from his chin"—there, it positively horrifies me to suppose that you're having a fantasy of a sexual nature currently, defiling this temple of truth with your naughty boy-on-boy daydreams."

Blaine spit out the sip of coffee he had just taken, spluttering in shock.

"Look, you even scandalized poor Anderson over there, and we all know he's waiting 'til marriage," Sue said.

Kurt's face had reddened to a full-fledged scarlet. "I wasn't having a naught—" he stopped himself, further humiliated by how high his voice had risen. Kurt coughed a few times in a useless attempt to return his voice back to its normal range. "I wasn't doing that."

"I don't believe you for a second, you dirty little choirboy, I have the nearly supernatural talent of telling when people are lying. In fact, the award-winning play-turned-film Frost/Nixon was based on my interviews with Justin Bieber," Sue informed him.

"I don't think there was an ounce of anything close to truth in what you just said right there," Kurt retorted. "What is it now, Sue?"

She dropped a pile of paper that had blatantly suffered the wrath of her red editor's pen. "Just dropping off my edits, Erotic Daydream Believer."

Blaine opened his mouth to say something, but Kurt beat him to it.

"Don't," he warned the hero-in-disguise.

"Friday night?" guessed Blaine.

"Yeah," he mumbled, his eyes averted to the keyboard of his laptop. "How'd you know?"

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about it either," Blaine comforted him with a mischievous grin.

0-0-0

"I miss Kurt," Tina sighed as she pushed her Lo Mein around on her plate.

"You haven't made up with him yet?" Sam asked his girlfriend. He and Mercedes, along with Tina and Mike, had met for dinner at their usual Asian place over in Chinatown.

"No," Tina answered for her friend.

"He yelled at me," Mercedes pointed out, "I don't see why I'm the one who should apologize."

Sam, Tina, and Mike all exchanged an uneasy look. They had been here before, trying to get their point across without setting Mercedes off one of her famous bitch fits, which were second only to Kurt's. Because even though Mercedes was a fiercely loyal and caring person, she had a temper that was ignited easier than a matchstick and a streak of stubbornness that made a mule seem submissive.

Sam, who as her boyfriend, was the most experienced in negotiating with Mercedes, spoke first. "Well then, maybe this is a time when you have to take the high road, honey, and just put this behind you two."

"If only we were back in Glee with Mr. Shue," Mike joked, "and you guys could just sing it out, what did he used to call it…oh, a diva-off."

"Or like that time on How I Met Your Mother when Ted and Marshall decided to settle who got their apartment by having a swordfight," Sam added. He turned to address Mercedes with complete sincerity. "I give you permission to borrow my lightsabers if you want to use them."

"Yeah, I don't think that will be necessary," she replied, unfazed by her boyfriend's geekiness after three years together. "But thanks for the offer, boo."

Tina observed that the men weren't getting anywhere with her. "Hey, isn't the Yankees game starting soon? You two wouldn't want to miss the first pitch. We'll take care of the bill."

"See you at home," Sam told Mercedes, pecking her on the cheek while Mike mirrored the action on his own wife.

Once the men had left, Tina got down to business. "Mercedes, if this is about the smoking thing, it's not a big deal. I'm thinking of quitting anyway because Mike and I are thinking about starting to try for a kid."

Mercedes squirmed in her seat. "It's not just…well, the smoking's part of it. I miss Kurt too, but…you know me, Tina, I've never been very good at admitting I was wrong."

Tina gave her a small, sympathetic smile. "I know, but this is just Kurt, Cedes. It's not like you have to give a press conference."

"I'd rather give the press conference. Who says Kurt will forgive me? You saw how angry he was," Mercedes countered.

"He was only so angry because he was frustrated," explained Tina, "he really cares about your opinion and when you didn't support his relationship, he was hurt. And we all know that it's easier to get angry than to tell someone they hurt you, especially Kurt, after all he's been through."

"Ugh, that's where he frustrates me. Because if I try to tell him that I'm worried about him, he's just going to get all defensive," said Mercedes.

"I think if you demonstrated that you listened to him and admit that maybe you've been a little envious of his career, he'll listen to you if you try to tell him that you're concerned about him," Tina assured her.

"I guess you're right," Mercedes relented. "When did you get so good at this whole conflict resolution thing, by the way?"

"Asian Couples Therapy," Tina supplied. "Mike and I have been going for years. Turns out you learn a couple things, and that it doesn't just apply to Asian Couples."

0-0-0

"Hey, Kurt!" Mercedes approached the journalist through the busy department store crowd.

Kurt looked up from the rack of sweaters he was sorting through to regard his friend. "What are you doing here?"

The dark-skinned diva sighed. Kurt was in bitch mode, and that wasn't going to make things any easier. "It's common knowledge that if Saks Fifth Avenue is having a sale, you can bet your last dollar that Kurt Hummel is going to be there…and I followed you from The Planet."

Kurt wasn't fazed. "So you stalked me because…?"

Mercedes took a cleansing breath before beginning the spiel she had rehearsed earlier. "I wanted to apologize for the way I acted last week. I'm sorry I didn't respect your judgment about Blake and that I've been more of a drama queen than usual lately," she felt a wave of relief sweep over her when Kurt couldn't resist smiling slightly at her words. "It's just…you know how protective I am, especially of the people I care about, and…Kurt, you're practically my gay husband and you deserve to be treated like a king…because I know what you've been through Kurt, and I get that it was a long time ago, but I'm always going to be looking out for you, Kurt, just like you do for me…I missed you this week, Kurt and I'm pretty sure you missed me too. So if I say I'll stop hounding you about Blake, will you consider putting this behind us?"

There was a moment of silence before Kurt replied. "Of course, Mercedes. I'm sorry I went all Mean Girls on you last week, I'll admit it was pretty immature of me."

Mercedes noticeably relaxed at Kurt's response. "So we're good?"

"We will be once we refresh your summer wardrobe," Kurt informed her playfully, linking their arms. "Now come on, let's shop."

0-0-0

"Maybe we should just tell them," mused Blaine from his spot on the floor. Kurt was sitting directly above him on the couch, massaging his neck and shoulders while NY1 was on mute in the background. He'd just told Blaine that Mercedes had invited him out to dinner on Friday, and that Blake had been invited as well, if he felt comfortable joining them.

"Blaine, honey, Mercedes and I made up," Kurt told him. "They're not going to give me a hard time about it anymore."

"Well maybe this isn't about you," Blaine replied, twisting slightly so he could look up at his boyfriend. "Maybe I'd like to engage in normal couple behavior for once and be able to go out to dinner with my boyfriend's friends."

Kurt ignored the edge in Blaine's voice and continued to knead his shoulders. "I get that Blaine, I really do, but I don't feel comfortable telling them yet."

"What, are you ashamed me?" Blaine demanded.

"No! If I could I'd make a 'My Boyfriend is Blaine Anderson/Superman' shirt and wear it all the time. But I'm going to be honest, I don't like lying to closest friends like I've had to lately. And the situation in which I have to lie the least is when I just call you Blake when I talk about our relationship."

"Or you could come clean and call me Blaine," he shot back. "Really, Kurt, what's the big deal?"

"We've been over this, if I told them I was dating you, I'd have to lie even more than I already am," Kurt said.

"I'm sorry I'm such an inconvenience," Blaine muttered, rising from the floor and collecting the plates from dinner.

"What's going on, Blaine?" Kurt inquired, standing up as well to address him. "Did you have a rough day or something? Because you're usually not this pissy."

"Well, I can't be Dapper Dan twenty-four seven," he called from the kitchen before reappearing. "And don't change the subject."

"I won't change the subject if you stop playing the victim," Kurt challenged. "And all I'm saying is that I'm just getting tired of pretending, you know?"

"You're getting tired of pretending? My entire life is pretending! The only time I'm not pretending is when I'm home with you or on the phone with my mother!" Blaine argued.

Kurt paused. Blaine didn't get irritable often, so he knew that this must be a big deal to him, and after all had Blaine had sacrificed for him, Kurt would kind of be the worst boyfriend of all time if he didn't try to work this out. Besides, Kurt and Blaine had made up barely two weeks ago, the last thing the reporter needed was another fight with the superhero.

"Okay fine, Blaine, you win," Kurt surrendered reluctantly. "I'll call Mercedes and Tina and see if they can meet up with me later tonight. This is something I'm going to have to do with them face-to-face."

Kurt sighed and picked up his phone from the Blaine's coffee table, scrolling through his list of contacts, pondering under his breath how the girls would react when they found out that Blaine was the sex god he had been telling him about.

"Wait."

Kurt looked up to see that he was no longer holding his iPhone, and that it had been snatched away by Blaine, who was currently looking at him with a repentant expression on his face.

"What is it?" Kurt asked. "Do you want to come with me? I really don't think that would be a good idea—"

"No, babe, hold on. Maybe there's a way we can do this so I can go out with you and you don't have to lie any more than you already are," proposed Blaine.

"And how would we do that, exactly?" he inquired.

"Well, you know how we were joking about the whole fake boyfriend thing…and then you mentioned the pretending…what if I go to dinner Friday night as Blake?"

Kurt hadn't caught on yet. "What do you mean?"

"I dress up as someone else—you haven't told them too much about my appearance, have you?"

"Wait, you mean like a disguise?" Kurt questioned. Blaine nodded in confirmation, an exhilarated smile stretching across his full lips. He scoffed. "Oh, Blaine, that's an awful idea. Haven't you ever seen a movie or sitcom when they do that? It always just blows up in their faces. Just give me my phone back and I'll call—"

"Just think about it for a second, Kurt," Blaine squabbled as he dodged Kurt's attempts to take his phone back. Blaine huffed and jumped up, his head just grazing the ceiling as he floated above Kurt. "You know I'm like the master of keep-away, right?"

"Ugh, get back down here!" Kurt commanded, tugging on one of Blaine's socked feet like the string of a balloon in a futile endeavor to bring him back to down to eye-level.

Next thing he knew, Kurt was pinned down on top of Blaine's bed. He labored to disregard the spike of arousal that shot through his body caused by his boyfriend being on top of him.

"Think about it," Blaine urged. "We both know I'm a pretty good actor, I mean you fainted when you found out I was Superman, remember?"

Kurt scoffed and dismissed his question with a roll of his bright blue eyes. "Is this some sort of reverse psychology? Because it's working."

"I'm being completely serious," Blaine told him, his intense gaze causing Kurt to fidget in Blaine's hold.

"Even if we do make up a Blake persona for you to play, there's still the physical aspects to think about, Blaine," Kurt pointed out.

"Easy," he replied. "Makeup. Wigs. Different clothes. You'd be surprised how easily people are fooled when they're not consciously looking for anything wrong, trust me. And I'm sure with your cosmetology skills, I could be a completely new person once you were finished. "

"I'm not sure if even I could tame those eyebrows," Blaine shot him a dirty look, the aforementioned eyebrows furrowing in resentment. "But even if I gave you a makeover and you went all Stanislavsky and created a Blake character, Tina and Mercedes would still recognize your voice."

Blaine smirked. "You don't need to worry about that, I'm good at voices."

Kurt cocked an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Really. Say something."

"Like what?"

"Like anything, really," Blaine responded, sounding exactly like Kurt. "You could apologize for insulting my eyebrows again or maybe—"

"Oh my God, stop that!" Kurt shrieked, wriggling to get out from under Blaine so he wouldn't feel his growing erection. Why is this turning me on so much? "You're freaking me out!"

"Why should I?" Blaine asked, his voice still identical to the man below him. "You seem to be enjoying it. I can even make my voice sound like Tom Welling—"

Kurt couldn't repress the resulting shudder at hearing his celebrity crush's voice coming out of Blaine's mouth. "Seriously, Blaine, you made your point."

"Ugh, you're no fun," Blaine pouted, his voice back to his own. "I'm going to remember that you like voices, though."

"Whatever," Kurt blushed, doing his best to brush off the discovery of a rather embarrassing new kink. "Back to the task at hand, and speaking of hands, could you release mine? It's not like any sneak attack of mine is going to be successful on you."

Blaine conceded and freed Kurt from his clutches.

"How are you even able to do that?" Kurt questioned, flexing his newly repossessed wrists as he sat up.

"One of the perks of being from Krypton, I guess," Blaine shrugged. "Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable."

"Don't be, it was the good kind of uncomfortable," Kurt guaranteed him. "It's just we have bigger fish to fry than exploring how one of your abilities…excites me. But just for future reference, I like British and French accents, and if you try something Spanish or Southern, I'll be required to hit you."

"Good to know," Blaine laughed.

The couple worked well into the night on inventing Blake until Kurt couldn't keep his eyes open any longer and the man that stood before him didn't act, look, or sound like Blaine Anderson. The evening ended like it always did though, Blaine and Kurt climbing into bed together, the hero cuddling his boyfriend and dozing himself for a few hours before slipping out of Kurt's embrace and tending to his crime-fighting duties.

"Oh and just for the record," Kurt said before he let sleep wash over him. "Even though turning you into Blake was fun, I still prefer you just the way you are."

"Likewise," Blaine promised, giving Kurt a gentle kiss goodnight.