Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Okay, so you stick the order tickets to this revolving caddy, and the grill cook will pick them up and set everything here on the pickup counter.”

Kurt nodded. It was his first day at the diner and the assistant day manager – a gorgeous brunette named Santana, who swore under her breath in Spanish every time she walked through the swinging doors that led to the kitchen area, was showing him around the various stations that he had to master. Kurt had worked at the local coffee shop back in Ohio, but the diner was definitely bigger, and there were more things to forget.

“Busboys will handle clearing the tables and lay out the cutlery and fresh napkins. All customers get water when they sit down along with their menus – Denny doesn’t like to wait for people to ask, he thinks it sets this greasy spoon apart from every other roach buffet in the city.” Santana shrugged with one shoulder, clearly expressing her doubt that anything about the diner was special. “Whatever, he’s not a terrible boss and he’s pretty flexible with the schedule since everyone here is a performer. If you need time just get someone to cover your shift and write it on the swap board. Everyone wants time off and everyone needs money. It usually works out.” Kurt thought she was done talking, but she went on. “And once you’re up to speed be prepared to take on a few shifts for me. I’ve got three commercial auditions next week.”

Kurt nodded again. There was no way he’d remember everything she had just told him.

“Anything else I need to know?” Kurt asked.

“Nah,” she said, popping her gum. “You shadow me today and if it’s not too busy you can take some orders later.”

Kurt followed Santana for a couple of tables, and it didn’t seem too difficult. It might take him a couple of days to learn all of the nicknames they had for various menu items, but he was used to memorizing dialogue, so he was pretty sure he would get it. He learned the various stations quickly, and how to cut the right size of cake or pie without giving away too much, but enough to satisfy the customers. Santana taught him how to keep the coffee pots fresh and full, because they served a lot of NYU students and they could get really unruly if they had to wait for their caffeine fix. After a couple hours he even managed to stay out of the way of the busboys as they moved around clearing tables, making himself virtually invisible.

By the time the evening rush rolled in, Kurt knew the particular way the line cook liked to be asked to speed up an order (that did not result in delivering the completely wrong item to the customer), and he could restock the napkins and refill the ketchup and the salt shakers without incident.

After three days he was sure he was going to be fired.

Kurt Hummel was a klutz. He dropped silverware, tripped on the smooth tiled floors of the diner, and once, during the breakfast rush on his third day at the job, tipped a customer’s Lumberjack Combo Breakfast Platter just a little too much to the left, depositing it in the lap of said lumberjack’s dining partner.

“You psych yourself out.” Santana expertly slid three breakfast plates along one arm, and pick up a fourth with her free hand, as she gave her version of a pep talk. “I’ve been watching you Kurt. You know what to do, you just try to do it all at once instead of taking it one plate at a time.”

Kurt shook his head. “I don’t know San, maybe I just have butterfingers.”

Santana nodded at two plates still sitting on the line. “Grab those two plates and follow me,” she said with a flip of her ponytail, heading over to a booth with an intimidating number of attractive guys who all looked about Kurt’s age.

“What’s it gonna take to get you to go out with me?” One of the boys teased. Santana set plates of food in front of four of them, then carefully took both plates that Kurt was holding and set them neatly in front of the rest.

“You’ve still got too much penis for me, champ.” Santana’s colorful language rarely shocked Kurt, but he wasn’t used to hearing her use it with paying customers. “Don’t worry, they’re regulars,” Santana said, somehow winking at the entire table as six jocks burst into giggles. “And fellas, I’m training a newbie, so I expect you all to behave. This is Kurt.” She gave a squeeze to one of Kurt’s shoulder. “Let him know if you need anything else, all right?”

They were wearing matching yellow shirts and shorts, so Kurt assumed they were on some sort of a sports team. In high school this would have set off warning bells for Kurt, but these guys didn’t seem that dangerous, and they had giggled when Santana said penis, not two minutes earlier.

“Big game?” he asked, trying to steal some of the ease Santana had with the group.

The boys mumbled among themselves and Kurt could just make out the words ‘not really’ and ‘just a practice.’

“Okay, well, just flag me down if you need anything else,” he said, taking his awkward with him back to the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later he was making the rounds, refilling water glasses, when Santana’s table flagged him down.

“Refills?” he asked, when he reached the table. The boys all nodded, pushing their glasses to the center of the table so Kurt could reach them easier. Kurt took a breath to steady himself, then reached over with the pitcher, pouring water into all five glasses with only a little splashing onto the table, but nothing too egregious. As he was pouring, Kurt noticed that a few of the boys had cleaned their plates, so he offered to take them.

Everything after that was a blur. He needed to set the pitcher down in order to stack the platters, but didn’t realize until too late that when he set the pitcher down, he set it directly onto a fork; the pitcher wobbled and dumped its ice cold contents all over the lap of the boy sitting nearest to Kurt, who let out a strangled screech.

“Oh shit! I mean shoot! Shit - let me - oh my god.” Kurt scrambled to grab some napkins off of the empty booth next door, and Santana, no doubt attracted by the familiar noises that followed butterfingers, arrived in seconds with a dry rag and a handful of fresh paper towels.

“Jesus Kurt, again?” Santana went to mop up the lap of the wettest boy, then smirked and seemed to think better of it. “Here short stack, you can dab your own crotch.” The boy squirmed a little, but took the napkins and attempted to dry himself off.

“It’s fine - it’s, the pitcher was almost empty,” the boy tried not to make a big deal out of it. He didn’t seem to be mad - at least, he wasn’t yelling at Kurt, which made him possibly the best customer Kurt had had since he’d started, but the boy was clearly uncomfortable, and Kurt could see the huge wet puddle dripping from where the excess water had pooled on the seat between his legs before puddling onto the floor. Kurt shuddered in sympathy. “Really don’t worry about it, it’s just water,” the boy said again. “And I need to go hit the showers anyway.” He tried to give Kurt a sympathetic smile, but Kurt thought he just looked uncomfortable.

“Please, let me comp your meal - all of your meals.” He looked around the table at the boys, but they all protested.

“You really don’t have to, Blaine needed to cool off,” one said

“Yeah, he scored three goals on me this afternoon, if you hadn’t dumped water all over him I probably would have.” They all laughed at that.

“How about dessert?” Kurt offered. “Coffee and pie on me?”

“How about next time? For the pie?” It was the boy Kurt had spilled on, Blaine, and with everything calming down, Kurt took a minute to look at him. His face was turned up toward kurt, and for a brief second Kurt lost his breath. Sure, he was wet, and a little dirty from whatever sport they’d been playing, but his eyes were beautiful, and he was smiling at Kurt in the most sincere way. “We come here all the time, there’ll be other chances for you to make it up to us.” He finished with a quiet smile, and Kurt had to force himself to look away.

“Okay,” Kurt collected himself. “If you promise you’ll come back.” They all promised, and Kurt left them to get their check.

“Santana!” Kurt wailed when he was back in the kitchen.

“Eh, don’t worry about it. They really are here all the time and I’m sure they don’t want to be annoying. Besides,” she added, “I think the little one you poured the water on has a crush on you.”

Kurt scoffed.

“Don’t laugh, maybe he gets off on having things spilled on him.” Kurt rolled his eyes, and brought them their check before disappearing quickly back into the kitchen.

After they had left and he was clearing their table, he discovered a tip far greater than the 10-15% customers usually left, along with a note written on a dry napkin.

Really don’t worry about it, accidents happen. I promise to take you up on that pie - Blaine.

Kurt folded up the note, and stuck it in his apron pocket, and grinned all the way back to the kitchen.

“Hey Hummel, your shift is over in ten, why don’t you cut out early.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, Brittany’s already here, and it’s Tuesday. It’ll be a quiet night.” Santana was talking to him, but she only had eyes for his replacement. Kurt wasn’t sure they had something going on, but he was sure Santana was open to the idea.

“Okay,” he said brightly. “If you insist.” He washed up as best he could, grabbed his bag from the staff coat closet, and with a wave and a promise to be back the next day for the breakfast shift, he headed home.

Kurt stepped out of the restaurant, breathing in the sights, sounds and smells of the New York spring. New York didn’t always smell great, anyone would agree, but there were occasionally times when it smelled so New York that it was pleasant by association. Tonight was one of those nights.

After a few moments Kurt sighed, and began making a mental list of all of the things he needed to be working on, starting with his scene for his French New Wave plays class. It would be better if they’d let him do it in French.

After turning right at the corner, Kurt dodged the light crowd that was starting to gather, as the city shifted from people rushing home from work to people heading out to meet friends and socialize at a much more leisurely pace.

He hadn’t gone more than ten paces before he noticed a familiar figure standing in a doorway. Away from the pedestrian traffic. In the twilight it took him a few long blinks to realize that it was Blaine.

Kurt started to say hi, then realized Blaine was on his phone, as he held up one finger with a somewhat pleading look. Kurt thought meant that Blaine wanted him to wait, so he stopped, and couldn’t help but overhear the end of Blaine’s conversation.

“Yep, yes. Of course I have time, yes, yes I’ll bring him, if he doesn’t have to work-“ Blaine looked at Kurt and grimaced. “Friday night, yes Mother. Love you too. And Dad of course.” Blaine was silent, obviously listening, but nodding along and looking as though he were experiencing slightly more than mild gas pains. After a few more moments he hung up. “Kurt!”

“Um, you weren’t out here waiting for me, I hope.” Kurt chuckled nervously. “No why would you be.” Blaine had said he was fine, but maybe he wanted to exact some revenge for the ice lap? Weirder things had happened on the streets of New York, Kurt knew.

“No! No, um,” Blaine fidgeted a little, then pointed at his phone. “My mom called.”

Kurt had no idea where this conversation was going, but Blaine was certainly cute when he was nervous, or at least when he seemed nervous.

“That’s nice?” Kurt asked, but Blaine looked mildly pained, so Kurt went on. “And I am so sorry, about the water -” Kurt waved his hand in a circle in the direction of Blaine’s crotch, but then thought better of it, stopping with a nervous laugh. “If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you.”

Blaine’s eyebrows did an adorable furrowing, and he finally said something. “Actually, um, there might be?”

Kurt perked up. He would really like to unload some of this guilt over the spill.

“Anything. Well, most things, probably. I don’t think I could do a hit on anyone.” Blaine looked confused. “Kill someone?”

“Oh, oh nothing like that.” Blaine paused. “I need a date.”

“Oh.” That was not what Kurt expected. “Oh?”

“Actually, I need a boyfriend. On very short notice.”

“A boyfriend?”

Blaine nodded, then looked horrified. “Oh my god, I mean, I don’t want to assume, that’s terrible - bad Blaine - I guess I was maybe hoping, when I saw you come around the corner. You don’t even have to be gay! All I need is someone to go out to dinner with me and my parents and pretend to be my boyfriend. No extras required.”

Even his scattered thought process was a little adorable.

“Wait. You need a pretend boyfriend to have dinner with your parents? Don’t gay guys usually need fake girlfriends?”

Blaine laughed. “Probably, but my parents know I’m gay, they’re fine about it, mostly -“ his face darkened for the briefest of moments, “but they keep trying to fix me up with this guy whose parents go to their country club, and I just wanted them to stop so I told them I was in a relationship. And now they’re going to be here this weekend and they want to meet you.” Blaine shook his head and sputtered, his eyes wide in surprise. “Him! My boyfriend.” Blaine sighed and dropped his arms to his sides. “That I don’t have.”

Kurt took a second to really look at Blaine. He was definitely cute, and definitely gay, and while he looked a little rumpled and sweaty now, Kurt could imagine him cleaning up quite nicely. And also it was just for an evening. Kurt would definitely be helping him out, so he could stop feeling guilty about dumping the water on him.

“Nice restaurant?”

Blaine laughed. “Oh, definitely. My parents are the epitome of snooty rich people. It’ll be whatever the hottest place to be this week is.”

“Snooty rich parents and a free meal? I’m in.” Kurt grinned.

“That’s great Kurt, thank you.” Blaine took out his phone and handed it to Kurt. “Put in your number and I’ll send you all the details. I really appreciate this. You have no idea.”

“Let’s talk tomorrow. You can fill me in on anything I need to know about you then.”

Chapter Text

Blaine didn’t question whether or not this was a good idea until he was on his way to meet Kurt. But now that he was about to pass off a virtual stranger as his boyfriend of over six months, he was starting to have doubts.

He could have just told his parents that his boyfriend wasn’t available. He could have told them they’d broken up. He could have asked someone he knows to do it instead - he has plenty of friends who would have helped him out in this situation, friends that knew him well and had never met his parents. His parents wouldn’t have suspected anything. They aren’t really that involved in his life.

On the other hand, they had been pushing him to meet this guy - Sebastian - for months. They even tried to arrange an accidental meeting at their club when Blaine was home between semesters. That’s when he had made up the boyfriend thing in the first place.

Not to mention that Blaine’s having a boyfriend hadn’t stopped his mother from continuing to talk about Sebastian whenever they spoke on the phone. “Sebastian is so handsome” “Sebastian is so worldly - did you know he went to Europe for a whole summer before college?” “Did I tell you Sebastian’s parents bought him an apartment in Boston so he doesn’t have to live in the dorms? Boston isn’t that far away, is it Blainey?” Blaine was beyond tired of hearing about the guy.

As he walked toward their meeting spot around the corner from the restaurant, Blaine went over everything he’d learned about Kurt during their conversation: he was in the theater program at Tisch; he grew up in Ohio - just like Blaine had (and wasn’t that a weird coincidence?); his dad owned his own garage, where Kurt had worked in high school; and his mom had died when Kurt was young. Blaine didn’t know if that was something he should ask more about, but Kurt seemed to breeze over the information so Blaine didn’t pursue it. It wasn’t really his business - Kurt wasn’t really his boyfriend.

Kurt had also sung in his high school Glee club - again, just like Blaine. He was really into Broadway, and could hold his own when they started discussing pop music, but that knowledge probably wouldn’t come up at dinner with his parents. He knew he shouldn’t expect to be embarrassed by his parents behavior, they’d been nothing but supportive to him - with only mild indifference to his coming out, but still, he’d never introduced a guy to them. If it went too poorly the only real damage would be that he’d have to find a new diner, and while he really didn’t want that, it could be worse.

Kurt did seem nice enough, and he seemed game to do it. He even seemed to think it would be fun, which Blane didn’t understand at all, but he supposed it wasn’t Kurt’s parents they were trying to fool.

Blaine arrived at the agreed upon meeting spot five minutes early, and Kurt was already there waiting for him. Blaine almost didn’t notice him - Kurt definitely looked different outside of his diner uniform. His hair sat in a perfect quiff just over his forehead, and his clothes would definitely impress Blaine’s parents - Kurt was wearing expensive designer pieces. His shirt was definitely Marc Jacobs, and Blaine could swear the velvet vest and matching pattern trousers Kurt was wearing were genuine vintage Alexander McQueen - if he wasn’t just as sure that there was no way Kurt could afford them on tips from the diner...he wasn’t that good of a waiter. Blaine swallowed. Kurt looked like he’d been sewn into his outfit, and was somehow at least five inches taller than he had seemed at the restaurant.

“I hope I haven’t kept you waiting long?” he finally managed to get out. He wasn’t sure if the situation was appropriate for an air kiss - Blaine never could quite get that right, but when Kurt leaned forward, he just went for it. It was only mildly awkward. “You look great,” Blaine told him. “Amazing, actually. Is that real McQueen?”

“Why yes it is - well spotted, and thank you,” Kurt answered, obviously pleased at the complement. Blaine stored that away in case things went sideways; maybe he could flatter Kurt into forgiving him and not lose access to his favorite diner. “And you are right on time. My subway skipped a few stops on my way here, so I was a little early. I didn’t want to be late to meet the parents,” he said, joking.

Blaine tried to laugh, but he was getting more nervous by the minute. Kurt didn’t seem to be nervous at all.

“Look, if you don’t want to do this - it all seems like a crazy idea now that I’ve had a couple days to think about it. I can just tell them we broke up, or something.” Blaine ended that sentence weaker than he wanted to. He wished he could just stand up to his parents about this.

“Oh come on! It’ll be fine.” Kurt narrowed his eyes, as if he were studying Blaine. “And I’m already all dressed up.” Kurt said, slipping his arm through Blaine’s as they headed toward the restaurant. “I hate to waste it.”

Blaine looked down at where Kurt’s hand was gripping Blaine’s elbow. They hadn’t discussed PDA. “If you’re sure?” He hoped Kurt hadn’t heard his voice crack.

“I am,” Kurt assured him. “I’ve been eating nothing but diner food since I started that job, and I was promised an expensive meal with someone’s rich, if not entirely well meaning, parents.”

Blaine let himself laugh at that. Kurt seemed fun, maybe this would be fine, and then his parents would leave him alone for a while.

They arrived at the restaurant before Blaine’s parents, and since Blaine was still too young to drink they both ordered iced teas at the bar, and waited.

“Remember, the only thing we have to make up is the details about our relationship,” Blaine reiterated. They had discussed on the phone that they would tell the truth about as much as they could, so they wouldn’t have to keep track of too many lies. “And If my parents get nosy about you just answer truthfully.”

Kurt nodded. “I remember the plan.”

“Oh, I forgot to say - they aren’t going to expect any PDA, if you’re worried about us not looking like a ‘couple’.” Blaine threw up air quotes around the word couple, then frowned. “I’m sorry, I’m really not an air quote guy.”

Kurt smiled at him, a little wickedly, Blaine thought. “Do you always worry this much when you bring a fake date to meet the parents?” Kurt teased.

Blaine tapped his fingers on the bar, but he couldn’t help giving Kurt a side eye. “I’ll let you know if I ever do it again.” Kurt visibly suppressed a laugh. “But thanks, in advance, for doing this. I really don’t know what I was thinking.”

Kurt looked like he was about to respond, no doubt with something witty, when Blaine spied his mother and father coming into the restaurant. He waved them over.

“Kurt, these are my parents, Pam and Stewart Anderson.”

“It’s really great to finally meet you. Blaine has told me so much about you, I feel like I know you already.” Kurt shook both of their hands confidently.

“That definitely puts you at an advantage,” Blaine’s dad said. “Blaine has told us almost nothing about you.”

“Oh, well,” Kurt was acting surprised, but Blaine knew it was an act. “We can fix that tonight.”

The maitre’d seated them at a table on the restaurant’s upper level. They could see the entire restaurant from where they were and Blaine wondered if his mother had made the request in advance.

“I read about this place in the Times,” Pam said, once they were seated. “It’s a converted church, and the food is Italian-Japanese fusion.” Blaine could see his dad make a face out of his mother’s line of sight.

“I read that piece too,” Kurt said. “There is a six month wait for reservations here. How did you score than on such short notice?”

Blaine watched his mother’s eyes light up as she went into a long explanation about how a woman from her book club knew a guy whose cousin once dated the sous-chef. She loved to talk about her connections. Kurt kept her busy chatting until the waiter came to take their orders.

“So Kurt, are you originally from New York?” Stewart asked, once the waiter had left.

Kurt shook his head. “No, I”m from Ohio, just like Blaine.” When Blaine looks over Kurt is smiling at him like they actually share history. Maybe they do.

“Oh really? Blaine never mentioned that.” Blaine’s dad raised an eyebrow in Blaine’s direction.

“It never really came up,” Blaine mumbled.

“Where in Ohio are you from?” Stewart asked.

“Lima,” Kurt answered. “My dad owns his own garage.”

“Do you park a lot of cars in it?” Pam asked. When Kurt looked confused, she added, “In your garage.”

“No mom,” Blaine corrected her. “Not a garage for parking, a garage for repairing cars.”

“He’s a mechanic,” Kurt adds. “I used to work there during summers, until I decided it wasn’t good for my hair.” Kurt feigned a touch up to his upsweep, and Pam laughed.

“Running a small business is hard work,” Stewart said. “Does it do well?”

Kurt nodded. “Oh yeah, pretty well. Everyone needs their cars to work, and he’s been going at it over twenty years now.”

“That’s impressive,” Stewart said, and Blaine could tell that he meant it. Blaine had been concerned that his parents would be rude about Kurt’s family being more working class than the Andersons, but he could tell that his dad was impressed with Kurt.

“Well, his customers are pretty loyal.”

Stewart nodded, and Blaine felt his chest unravel in relief. He had almost made it through dinner, and his parents seemed to like Kurt - so hopefully they’d stop trying to fix him up. He’d have to remember to send Kurt flowers or something after this was all over.

By the time they ordered dessert Blaine was almost ready to stop worrying. It was almost over, Kurt had not only been great but had also thoroughly impressed Blaine’s parents. Maybe he’d get through this without some kind of disaster.

“You are coming with Blaine to the wedding, I hope?” Blaine’s mother asked as dessert was set in front of them.

“Wedding?” Blaine started to worry again. “What wedding?”

“Your cousin, Michelle. Her wedding is in two weeks Blaine!”

“I never got an invitation to Michelle’s wedding. I didn’t even know she was engaged.” Blaine worked hard not to roll his eyes at his mother.

“Oh of course you’re invited dear, I RSVP’d for all of us. I even let them know you’d be bringing your boyfriend. Six months is certainly long enough to warrant an invite,” she answered breezily, as if Blaine had no other reasonable choice or expectation in the matter.

“Mom,” Blaine sputtered. “You never told me any of this. I have school! And obligations. And Kurt has a job, he can’t just take off at random. These things need planning.”

“He does have a point Pamela,” Blaine’s dad said. “Kids these days have a lot going on.”

Blaine’s mom huffed, and looked back and forth between the boys before pulling herself together. “I was sure I’d mentioned it honey.”

“Well you didn’t.” Blaine startled when he felt a hand on his knee. Kurt squeezed once in a gesture Blaine took as solidarity. Against parents and expectations, against whatever else there was.

“Thank you very much for the invitation, Mrs. Anderson,” Kurt said. “I’ll have to check my schedule and see whether I can make it or not.”

“Of course dear,” Pam answered, but Blaine could tell she was still a little annoyed. “Sebastian Smythe will be there, of course,” she said to Blaine. “I’m sure he can keep you entertained if Kurt can’t make it.”

“Mother!” That was really too much. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Kurt squeezed Blaine’s knee again, and Blaine took a calming breath. “And why on earth would he be at Michelle’s wedding?”

Blaine’s mother looked at him as if he’d asked her why the sun rises in the east. “Do you not pay attention to anything I say? Michele’s fiance is Sebastian’s cousin. Of course he’ll be there.”

Blaine blinked rapidly at his mother. He couldn’t believe his mother was trying to set him up with another guy right in front of his boyfriend. Fine, his totally-not-real boyfriend that he’d only met two days earlier, but she didn’t know that.

“Blaine, sweetheart,” Kurt spoke and drew Blaine’s attention away from his mother, lacing his fingers with Blaine’s under the table and resting them on top of Blaine’s thigh. “It’s fine, I’ll see if I can switch a couple of shifts.” Blaine stared at Kurt. Was he really considering coming to this wedding? That really seemed like it was taking the whole thing a little too far. “We can talk about it later, okay?”

Right. “Okay,” Blaine said. Of course. They couldn’t discuss this in front of Blaine’s parents. At least Kurt was thinking clearly.

Once outside the restaurant they said their goodbyes to Blaine’s parents - Kurt’s fingers still laced together with Blaine’s, in a gesture that should have been uncomfortable given the fact that they barely knew each other. But instead, Blaine found it surprisingly grounding. Without realizing it he had leaned into Kurt’s side, waving at his parents’ taxi as it drove away.

“Oh my god, Kurt, thank you for handling that all so smoothly. I cannot believe how well you dealt with my mother.”

Kurt laughed, shrugging one shoulder. “I’ve seen worse Blaine. They weren’t even in the top ten.”

“Still, thank you. I owe you one.”

“No way,” Kurt objected. “I spilled ice cold water all over your lap, consider us even. Even though I definitely got the better end of this deal. That restaurant was amazing.”

They stood there together awkwardly for a minute, while the rest of New York City rolled past them in a dozen different directions. Blaine wasn’t sure what he should do now. Should he take Kurt home? Offer to pay for a cab? They weren’t really hanging out, so he probably didn’t want Blaine to buy him a drink. No, putting Kurt in a cab home was the correct move.

“Can I ask you a question?” Kurt asked, before Blaine could offer.

“I am totally going to get you a cab home, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Huh?” Kurt looked puzzled for a second. “Oh no! That’s not what I was going to ask - though I live out in Bushwick and they’re doing track work tonight, so a cab actually sounds great. I wanted to ask though, I hope I’m not overstepping, what are you going to tell them about the wedding?”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not going to impose on you any more that I already have.” Blaine shrugged. “This was a crazy idea and I’m just relieved it’s over. I can just tell them you couldn’t get off work, or actually, I’ll tell them we broke up.”

“And this Sebastian guy you’re mom’s so hot on?”

“I’ll figure something out. I don’t want to drag you further into my familial dysfunction and insecurities. You are officially relieved of your fake boyfriend duties.” Blaine gave Kurt a courtly bow. “Thanks for even doing this.” He paused, then went on, more to himself than to Kurt. “Maybe he’ll just take no for an answer.”

“Who knows? Maybe you’ll wind up liking him?”

“Unlikely.” Blaine smiled and stepped to the curb, successfully hailing a cab without too much of a wait. “Thanks again,” Blaine said, as he opened the door for Kurt.

Before getting in, Kurt turned to Blaine, his face twisted as if he were considering something very seriously, but then thought better of it.

“It was my pleasure Blaine,” he said, before leaning in and kissing Blaine on the cheek. “See you around.”

Chapter Text

Santana had been laughing for six straight minutes. Well she did take a break at about the three minute mark to catch her breath, but still. Kurt was actually starting to worry.

“I’m sorry *wheeze* you pretended to be someone’s boyfriend?” She doubled over with a snort, gripping the side of the dishwashing sink to keep from falling over.

Kurt crossed his arms over his chest. “He seemed perfectly nice! You said they were regulars! I figured he was all right,” he defended himself. And honestly Kurt never once felt like Blaine was doing anything that he should consider a red flag for weirdness.

“Hummel,” Santana said, once she’d caught her breath. “I am friendly to all the customers - that’s how you get tips.” She snorted again, covering her mouth with one hand. “But you went on a date with him.”

“I did not go on a date with him,” Kurt said, adding air quotes when he said ‘date’. Blaine used air quotes - Kurt shook the thought from his head before explaining himself, again. “I felt bad, I spilled water all over his lap!”

“Okay, yes you did do that. But the remedy for spilling on a customer is to comp them a slice of cheesecake, not meet the parents and get them excited about grandchildren.”

“There was no discussion of grandchildren Santana,” Kurt volleyed. “And I offered him pie. He said he’d take me up on it later.”

“Honestly Kurt, that little fella is probably harmless, but don’t make a habit of it. If he asks you to put the lotion on its skin next time you go out text me and I’ll call the cops. Just leave your lojack on.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. This was a one time thing. Dinner with the parents - that’s it.” Blaine had made it clear he didn’t want to extend the whole boyfriend charade to his extended family, which totally made sense. What kind of person would invite a stranger with him to spend an entire weekend trying to convince their family that they were in a relationship. It was too crazy to even consider. But, for good measure and because he didn’t want Santana to think he was without a sense of humor, he added, “Besides, my skin is perfectly moisturized at all times.”

-

The diner had a lot of regulars, people who came in every day for coffee, or every other day for lunch or a slice of pie (which was in fact better than the cheesecake, much to Kurt’s personal disappointment).

Kurt had no idea what category of regular Blaine fell into. Did he only come in after sports, like the first time Kurt had waited on him? Maybe he was just an occasional regular - often enough that they knew him and his friends, but without any set time to come in. Kurt considered asking Santana how often Blaine came in, but three hours into their shift together she was still laughing every time she looked at him, so he opted not to pull that string.

It was fine, Kurt told himself. It’s not like they were friends. Blaine had asked him for a favor, and Kurt had been able to help him out. He would come back to the diner whenever, and Kurt had enough long shifts coming up that he wasn’t going to have a lot of time to worry about it anyway.

Halfway through Kurt’s third straight fifteen hour shift in as many days, Blaine came into the diner and sat at the counter, alone. Kurt tried very hard to act normal as he pulled a menu from the rack and set it down in front of Blaine.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Kurt teased. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Santana’s head jerk up and look in his direction, but he ignored her.

“Hi Kurt,” Blaine said, a nervous smile played at the corner of his mouth. “Um, how’s the cheesecake?”

“Terrible, actually.”

Four nights ago, sitting with Blaine’s parents and pretending to be his boyfriend, Kurt hadn’t been nervous at all. But now, with Blaine sitting in front of him, Charming Kurt had taken a hike, and Awkward Kurt had moved in.

“So how are your parents?’ Kurt blurted out. Might as well lean into it.

Blaine’s eyes widened for a second and he cleared his throat. “Fine. Great actually. Asked about you.” Blaine chuckled the sweetest laugh Kurt had ever heard.

“Wondering if I’m heartbroken after our big breakup?” Kurt cringed on the inside.

“Kurt -” Blaine started to say something, but was interrupted by Denny yelling across the restaurant.

“Hummel! Tables!”

“Oh god - I’m sorry Blaine we’re just really short this shift. Don’t go anywhere, okay? I’ll be right back.” And then, because it was entirely possible Blaine was there to eat and not visit Kurt, Kurt added, “Did you want to order something while I take care of some customers?”

Blaine nodded. “Cherry pie? And a coffee.”

“You got it,” Kurt said, as he went to cut his slice of pie and pour the coffee. He left Blaine with what he hoped was a casual smile and went to take care of the waiting tables.

Between taking orders, bringing orders out, and helping the busboys clear some of the busier sections, it was thirty minutes before Kurt could make his way back to the counter to talk to Blaine. When he finally did, Santana was standing in front of Blaine, chatting. She stopped when Kurt approached.

“So, Santana, don’t you have some tables to see to?” Kurt suggested pointedly.

Santana looked at Kurt, her eyes narrowed, and took about ten seconds too long to answer. “Yeah I guess,” she finally said before walking away.

“I hope she wasn’t too terrible,” Kurt said when she was out of earshot.

Blaine paused and scooped the last bite of pie onto his fork, but didn’t eat it. “Well, she did ask me if I was a serial killer, and let me know that if anything happened to you that she would not hesitate to poison my waffles the next time I came in.”

“She - what - she - oh my god -” Kurt was still sputtering when Blaine grinned.

“I guess you told her about dinner?” Blaine asked. Kurt half shrugged a yes, and Blaine nodded. “Cool, I guess it doesn’t matter. It’s not like she’s going to hang out with my parents any time soon.”

Kurt laughed. “Just do yourself a favor and don’t bring them here.” Kurt risked a glance in Santana’s direction. “Ever.”

“That is not going to be a problem,” Blaine answered with a laugh. “Can you imagine my mother in here?”

Kurt stood awkwardly, waiting as Blaine finished his pie. “Can I get you anything else?” He was the waiter, after all. “More coffee?”

Blaine shook his head. “I actually came here because I wanted to ask you a question.”

“You want me to meet your grandparents?” Kurt joked, but Blaine just kind of winced. “I was kidding. Do you really want me to meet your grandparents?”

“Well -” Blaine sucked in a lungful of air, his mouth set in a line. “I was kind of hoping you might reconsider coming to the wedding with me?”

Kurt blinked several times in rapid succession. He had really been hoping that Blaine would come back into the diner, and over the course of a couple of weeks Kurt would work up the nerve to ask him on a real date, rather than a pretend one. But here Blaine was, asking if Kurt wanted to carry on being his pretend boyfriend.

“I’ll pay for everything - well, for the train ticket and any extra expenses. My parents are covering the hotel. The wedding is at a working vineyard in Connecticut.” Then he added, “I think they have a spa?”

“You know you can get an escort for this sort of thing, I know a few guys,” Santana said as she walked behind the counter to use the soda fountain. She walked away before either of them could answer. When Kurt looked back at Blaine his face was flushed pink.

“I’m sorry about her, she’s -”

“I promise Kurt, it’s nothing like that. I -” Blaine paused and pulled out his phone. “I told my parents I wasn’t sure you could make it, which seemed fine, but then somehow Sebastian got my phone number - honestly I suspect it was my mother - and he’s been sending me really - suggestive - texts.” Blaine unlocked his phone and Kurt leaned over to look at the screen.

The texts were a little raunchy, but no worse than Kurt had seen on dating apps. One of the texts was even a shirtless photo of a fairly attractive guy.

“He’s kinda hot, are you sure you want me tagging along?”

Blaine made a disgusted noise. “Yes - I definitely am not interested. And I know I could probably just tell him no, emphatically and very likely over and over again for the entire weekend, but I honestly don’t want to cause a scene.” Blaine sighed, and Kurt could tell that he was struggling. “I understand if you don’t want to, if this is just too weird, but if honestly just seemed like it would be easier than telling everyone the truth, at least for now.”

“Nah, I get it.”

“So? Will you?”

Kurt bit his lip, it could be fun, and Blaine was a nice guy, or at least he seemed like one so far. “When is it?” Kurt thought it was coming up soon.

“It’s next weekend. I’m really sorry it’s such short notice.”

“It’s fine. Let me see if I can get Santana or one of the other girls to take my shifts.”

Blaine looked relieved, bouncing on his stool. “Oh my god, thank you so much.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kurt said. “I’m going to use the hell out of that spa.”

--

Ten days later Kurt was on a 6:25 train out of Grand Central Station headed to Eastern Connecticut.

Kurt had ended up working a series of double shifts in order to get enough time off for the weekend, although Santana seemed grateful for the swap. Aside from her commercial auditions, there were a half dozen open casting calls during the week she had wanted to get to.

He and Blaine hadn’t seen each other, or even talked really, in between when Blaine asked Kurt to reprise his fake-boyfriend role and when they met up at the train station. They had texted a few times; mostly to confirm the dress requirements (“you won’t need a tux. I’m sure whatever you select will be perfect” - Kurt had preened a little in private at that), and the schedule for the weekend.

Friday night they were expected to make an appearance at a post rehearsal dinner cocktail party, and the wedding was Saturday at five with an elaborate reception to follow. All the rest of the time was Kurt’s, and Blaine had promised he would get Kurt on a train by noon Sunday so he would have time to catch up on some homework. Kurt would definitely have time to take advantage of the hotel spa.

But at 6:25 on Friday morning, all Kurt wanted to do was sleep.

Blaine was waiting for him on the platform, and Kurt was a little surprised to see him in a bow tie at that hour. At dinner with his parents Blaine had also worn a bow tie, and while it suited him, Kurt had assumed it was simply chosen for the special occasion. But here he was at an ungodly hour of the morning, wearing a bow tie with what looked like an expensive polo shirt. Kurt couldn’t quite tell, as Blaine was also wearing the most adorable shawl collared navy cardigan.

“Thom Browne?” he asked. When Blaine just looked confused, he continued. “Your sweater. It looks like it’s from his Brooks Brother’s line.” Now that he was closer he could also see that the bow tie had tiny ducks embroidered on it.

“Oh,” Blaine touched his sweater self consciously. “Yes, my, um, grandmother gave it to me for Christmas a few years ago.”

Kurt hmmed approval. “It looks great. Never lose it.”

Blaine laughed. “Okay.”

The train wasn’t exactly crowded, but there were enough passengers scattered throughout that they wound up walking through several cars before they found two acceptable seats together.

“Do you mind if I nap on the way?” Kurt asked once they were settled in their seats. “I’ve done three double shifts this week and I feel like death.”

“Oh, no, of course. Go ahead,” Blaine answered with a polite nod. “We have to transfer in New Haven, I think.”

“No problem. Just give me a little shove when we get close.” Kurt put in his ear buds and leaned back against the seat, wondering what on earth this weekend would have in store.

Two hours later the conductor was rousting both of them awake, and Kurt was only slightly embarrassed to find that in his sleep he seemed to have nestled right onto Blaine’s shoulder.

“Time to wake up boys, this is your stop.” The conductor was gruff but bored, and didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact that two boys had fallen asleep on each other on his train. He’d probably seen a lot worse.

“What! Oh god,” Blaine jerked awake from where his own head had been resting on the top of Kurt’s. “I’m sorry. I must have fallen asleep too.” Blaine’s face was beet red.

“It’s fine,” Kurt said, wiping a small amount of drool from the corner of his mouth, hoping Blaine didn’t notice. “I think I used you as a pillow when I was sleeping. I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Blaine stood quickly and pulled their bags down from the overhead rack, as Kurt sat up and gathered loose items from their seat area. He gave Kurt a tired looking smile. “Let’s go. There is supposed to be a shuttle to the hotel.”

It turned out the shuttle stopped at a few local spots before their hotel, so by the time they arrived it was almost noon.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Blaine said as the stepped up to the front desk. “I should let my parents know I’m here, but do you want to get some lunch?”

“I am at your service, but I could eat a side of beef at the moment.”

“You are definitely not at my service, Kurt,” Blaine protested. “I appreciate your doing this for me so, so much, but outside of the wedding obligations, you should enjoy the amenities. It looks like a great place,” he finished, looking around the lobby.

Kurt tried not to watch Blaine as he checked in to their room, but whether he was just too tired to exercise restraint, or he simply didn’t want to, he wasn’t entirely sure. Blaine was sweet and handsome, and it was going to take Kurt a lot of self-control to not do something very, very stupid. Maybe a shower and a meal and a nap - possibly in that order, would help.

Once Blaine had gathered the room keys and other information about the hotel, Kurt followed him to their room. It turned out that the hotel had been converted from the original living quarters of the first owner, and had a lot of restored details from that time period, whatever it was. As they walked through the half modern lobby to the elevators, Kurt couldn’t help thinking that the entire place looked like Netherfield. It wasn’t going to do him any good to think of Blaine as his very own Mr. Darcy.

“Here we are,” Blaine said, stopping to match the number on his key to the number on the door. “219.”

The key was an actual key, and not an electronic card, which Kurt found classically appealing. The room was not especially large, which made some sense, as they would have had to work with the existing architecture, but it was beautifully furnished, with an oversized armchair, a small writing desk, a wardrobe for their clothes, and an absolutely stunning four poster king-sized bed.

“There were supposed to be two beds,” Blaine said, his voice strained.

“Huh?” Kurt turned from admiring how well appointed the room was to see Blaine staring at the bed, appearing slightly panicked.

“The bed. There were supposed to be two. I specifically called and made sure we could have two beds.” Blaine crossed his arms over his chest. “I remember because they said the only doubles they had were full sized beds, because the rooms didn’t fit two queens.” Kurt snorted a laugh, but Blaine didn’t seem to get the joke, so he let it go. “I’ll call the front desk. They can fix this.” He moved quickly to the room phone, but Kurt stopped him and hung up the phone.

“Blaine, it’s fine. It’s only two nights.” Blaine just made a pained noise. “It’s a huge bed. And - don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not going to take up a lot of room.” Blaine continued to frown, but he seemed a bit calmer.

“Still,” Blaine said, stretching his neck like he was working out a kink. “I think I’ll call and see if they can change it.”

“Up to you,” Kurt said. He went into the bathroom to give Blaine a moment.

He needed a moment too, if he was going to face sleeping in the same bed with Blaine for two nights.

Chapter Text

“We can send up a fold out cot if you like,” the very-eager-to-help hotel employee on the other end of the line said.

Blaine considered it. He could sleep on the cot and Kurt could have the bed to himself.

“I’m sorry Mr. Anderson, we called a -” Blaine heard fingers clacking on a keyboard at the other end of the line. “A Pam Anderson - when we swapped the rooms. She said it would be alright and that you really only needed the one.”

“It’s - not all - I mean,” Blaine turned around when Kurt stepped back into the room. Kurt smiled and went to unpack his clothes into the wardrobe, carefully smoothing each item as he hung it. ‘Ask them to send up a steamer, I forgot mine,‘ Kurt whispered. If Blaine’s mother knew what the configuration of his hotel room was, he couldn’t tell the front desk that they weren’t together. What if it got back to her? “No, it’s fine. Thanks.” Kurt turned to look at him expectantly. “Oh, and can you send up a steamer iron? Thank you.”

“Everything okay?” Kurt asked, when Blaine hung up the phone.

Blaine sighed and shrugged. “Well, they don’t have another room. But they did offer to send up a cot if I wanted.” He was worried about his mother finding out, but if it would make Kurt more comfortable then he’d do it. He’d worry about what to tell her when she found out. Which she would.

Kurt rolled his eyes and lay down on the bed, stretching out on one side. “Blaine. Lie down on the bed.” Kurt waved a hand and then patted the empty half of the mattress. “Please.”

Blaine hesitated, but Kurt made an insistent gesture, so he did as he was instructed. There was a lot of room between him and Kurt, which Kurt waved his arm across like he was making half a snow angel.

“See? You could put an entire third person in here with us - not that I’m suggesting that. Or two large dogs.” Kurt turned to his side, propping his head up with one hand. “Look, Blaine. I know you’re just trying to make sure I’m comfortable with this whole - situation, but I promise it’s fine. I’m pretty sure you’re not a serial killer, and you’ve been nothing but a gentleman.”

Blaine buried his face in a pillow and moaned. “I can’t believe I dragged you into this,” he mumbled into the pillow.

“Blaine.”

“Mmffmm.”

“Blaine look at me.”

Blaine took a deep breath and pushed himself up off of the mattress until he was sitting upright, facing Kurt. Kurt rolled his eyes and sat up.

“For the last time. You asked me and I said yes. And - I am very into this whole winery weekend thing, so stop feeling guilty about it for my sake.” Kurt paused for just a moment. “You’re on your own with your parents.”

“Okay.” Blaine laughed and closed his eyes, and because he was generally grateful for how cool Kurt was being about everything, including how nervous Blaine was acting, he added, “Thank you.”

“You may not thank me after I run up the champagne tab in the spa,” Kurt said, then he jumped off the bed, startling Blaine. “Now, I would really love to shower and get cleaned up. I smell like a commuter train. And I’m starving. What time is it? Do you think we can get some food anywhere?”

“Oh, uh almost 1:30, I think?” Blaine hopped off the bed and picked up a card that was set out on the desk that had the schedule of wedding sponsored weekend activities printed on it. “And there is a buffet lunch set out until three. I should probably head down and say hello to my family, do you want to come down when you’re ready?”

“That sounds great. I won’t be long, I really am hungry.”

Blaine waited while Kurt grabbed some things from his bag and then shut himself in the bathroom. Once he could hear water running, Blaine changed into fresh clothes, and made his way downstairs.

--

“Blaine! Sweetheart!” Blaine tried not to flinch as his mother flung an arm around him in an excessively demonstrative hug. “If I didn’t know better I’d have thought you were avoiding us!” Blaine speculated that it was likely that she’d had a few afternoon cocktails already.

“Hi Mom,” he said, returning her hug more sedately and kissing her on the cheek. “Of course not. We only arrived about 40 minutes ago. I came down as quickly as I could.”

His mother hummed noncommittally, looking behind Blaine as if he were hiding someone. “Where’s Kurt? I thought he was coming with you?”

“He wanted to freshen up after the ride here. He’ll be down shortly.”

“Oh, good,” she said, although it sounded more perfunctory than actually interested.

“I’ll make sure I bring him over to say hello,” Blaine said, as she leaned up to kiss him on the cheek.

“Delightful,” she answered, and then she was off to mingle with the other guests. Blaine wondered idly where his dad was.

Blaine glanced around the patio where the lunch had been set up. There were tables and chairs spanning the indoor/outdoor space, and opposite that the several buffet tables set up along the inside wall. It gave off the feeling of wanting to be casual, but Blaine knew better; there was nothing casual about this crowd. He was surprised that there weren’t tuxedoed wait staff serving hors d’oeuvres on silver trays.

There were about fifty people milling around, and while Blaine recognized some of them, more of them were strangers. He wondered how many people had actually been invited to the wedding.

“Hey, I’d know those boyish good looks anywhere.” Blaine didn’t recognize the voice, so he didn’t realize the owner of it was speaking to him. At least not right away. “I had no idea they’d belong to an ass that wouldn’t quit.”

Blaine choked and looked around to see who on earth would be that forward with a total stranger at someone’s wedding.

A guy Blaine would have described as smarmy held out his hand. Blaine shook it. “I’ve heard a lot about you Blaine Anderson.”

“Um, who are you?”

“Oh, I thought for sure you’d recognize me from the snaps I sent you the other day. Sebastian Smythe.”

Blaine’s manners kicked, sort of, while he mentally rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry, but the one with your face must not have come through.” Blaine looked around, hoping to see Kurt walking in, but there was no sign of him.

“Blaine honey!” His mother reappeared. “I see you’ve met Sebastian!”

Blaine grimaced. She was about to keep going, no doubt singing Sebastian’s praises, when Blaine’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Excuse me one sec,” he said, hoping it was Kurt. Fishing his phone out, he turned away so he could check the message, and his mother carried on talking to Sebastian.

What are you wearing?

It was from Kurt, and Blaine tried not to notice the warm feeling that licked up his spine at that question. Even though he knew there wasn’t really anything behind it.

Excuse me?

I need to know what you’re wearing so I can match - casual? Formal? I didn’t see you before you left.

Oh. Okay. That made sense. Blaine had dressed in a pair of navy shorts and a white polo, but had picked one of his favorite peach colored bow ties with schnauzers on them for some personality.

Navy shorts and a white polo. Bow tie. He texted Kurt.

How preppy. send me a picture?

Blaine could feel his face color, and looked around as if someone were peeking at his incoming texts. Not that it was scandalous at all, he was just being weird.

OK hang on. Blaine found a men’s room, thankfully empty, and took a photo of himself in the lounge mirror. He held his breath when he hit send.

He didn’t have to wait long. Great. I’ll be down in less than ten!

Blaine wandered back over to the buffet gathering, avoiding where his mother was still talking to Sebastian, wondering if ten minutes actually meant ten minutes. Was Kurt a punctual person or did he have a tendency to be late while getting ready for a party? Blaine tried to remind himself that he really didn’t know Kurt that well; they weren’t actually friends.

He needn’t have worried. He was still contemplating this thought, staring at the buffet tables, when he felt the pressure of a light hand on his back.

“Hi.” Kurt leaned very close, and Blaine couldn’t help but lean slightly in to meet him. Whether it was Kurt himself or simply the pull of another person this close to him he didn’t know. Kurt’s lips grazed Blaine’s ear, and he whispered, “I’m going to kiss you on the cheek - I didn’t want to startle you.”

“Oh, okay.” Blaine barely had time to process the thought, tipping his face just enough to accept the offering. He hoped Kurt didn’t notice how warm his cheeks felt.

Was this the first time Kurt had kissed him? He had a vague panic that there might be more kissing, followed by more panic that he was thinking about it. Had they talked about wedding PDA?

“You look very cute, by the way,” Kurt said, and Blaine turned to get a look at Kurt because if they were going to talk he didn’t want to be staring somewhere else. “I wasn’t sure how to dress for this, so I packed a few options.” Kurt fiddled with a neckerchief tied neatly at his throat. It was the first indication Blaine had that Kurt might be nervous about this too.

He didn’t have any reason to be. Blaine took in Kurt’s outfit, and had to resist ogling like a creep. His shorts were slim cut, a few inches longer than Blaine’s, hugging his thighs in a way that somehow made his legs look longer. His shirt was a madras pattern, only instead of the bright colors popular with the New England upper crust prep style everyone else was wearing (and that Blaine had plenty of examples of in his own closet), his was tones of brown with gold flecks. Two of the buttons were undone, exposing just enough skin for Blaine to -

Not your boyfriend not your boyfriend not your boyfriend

“You look perfect,” Blaine managed to say.

-

“Kurt!” Blaine started when he heard his mother call from halfway across the room. He bit back a smirk and shook his head as Pam enthusiastically hugged Kurt, and Kurt accepted the greeting like they were long lost cousins. “Blaine said you were running late, I’m so glad you could make it down to meet everyone.”

Kurt laughed politely. “Well I did just get here, so I haven’t had a chance to meet anyone yet.” Kurt linked his arm with Pam’s, as Blaine watched, dazzled by the ease with which Kurt handled his mother. “Maybe you should show me off to some of the guests? And I’m starving, maybe you could lead me in the direction of a sandwich?” Kurt looked at Blaine, an eyebrow raised as if asking permission. “Do you mind?”

“Of course not. But make sure you remember everyone’s name so you can tell me who they are later,” Blaine teased, even winking as Kurt walked off with his mother, and Blaine wondered once again what he’d gotten himself into.

Before he could explore that thought again, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Alone, finally.” Blaine turned to see Sebastian leaning much too close to him, although he had moved his hand away. “I thought he’d never leave.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your boyfriend.”

Blaine was confused. He was sure Kurt hadn’t been there ten minutes before his mother swooped in and whisked him away. “Kurt? He just got here.”

“Still.” Sebastian leered a little and Blaine was uncomfortable all over again. “We can hardly get to know each other if he’s monopolizing your time.”

Blaine didn’t really want to cause a scene at his cousin’s wedding, but he needed to put a stop to - whatever this was.

“Look, Sebastian, I’m flattered, really.” He wasn’t, but he could pretend, right? He was even getting good at it. “But when my mother suggested we meet she didn’t realize that I had a serious boyfriend. I’m not really interested in dating or meeting anyone right now.” That was polite enough, Blaine hoped Sebastian wouldn’t be too offended.

Sebastian snickered, not seeming put off at all. “I’m not really interested in dating either, Blaine. I just thought we could have a little fun this weekend.” Sebastian nodded in Kurt’s direction, dropped his voice, almost but not quite whispering into Blaine’s ear, “He doesn’t really look like he can keep someone as hot as you satisfied.”

Blaine’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Well, I’m in room 269. I’ll leave a key at the front desk if your boyfriend can’t keep up his end this weekend.”

“Oh my god. No, I don’t - I don’t think so.” He put up a hand in between himself and Sebastian. “You should, back off, I think.” Blaine glanced over to where Kurt was waving around a small plate of food, and he and his mother were entertaining a small group of women who Blaine thought were possibly great aunts, or second cousins. He looked like he’d be busy at least for a few minutes, so Blaine walked out of the room.

The rest of the hotel was mercifully quiet, and he found a sliding door that led to a narrow balcony. Cool ocean air hit him and Blaine shivered. At first he didn’t see anyone outside, but when he turned to walk to the far end of the balcony, just to gather himself before he went back to the party, he spied his father, leaning over the railing, smoking a cigarette.

“I thought you quit,” Blaine said.

Stewart startled, then relaxed when he saw it was Blaine who had interrupted him. “I mostly have.” He took a long drag on what was left and tossed it into the sand below the balcony. “Your mother is in rare form already.”

Blaine snorted, then caught himself when his father raised an eyebrow. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, I know she has her moments. Want to talk about it?”

Blaine shook his head, staring out at the ocean view. It was beautiful. “Maybe. Do you have any idea why she’s trying to fix me up with that guy - Sebastian?”

Stewart grimaced. “The Smythe boy? I thought she’d given up on that.”

“You know him?”

“Not really. His parents are on about a half dozen planning committees at the club, I think your mother is trying to get in good with them.”

“She’s trying to pimp me out to their son so she can decorate the country club Christmas party?” Blaine’s jaw dropped as he stared at his father.

Stewart shrugged, then leaned on the railing, joining Blaine in his observation of the ocean.

“I have no idea what on earth would make her think I would be interested in that guy. He’s,” Blaine shuddered, “really not my type.”

“His parents are lovely people, but you know how your mother can get bored. And when she gets bored she gets caught up in what passes for southwestern Ohio high society.” Blaine nodded. She did enjoy her status-play. “I thought she’d stop after we met Kurt - I like him, by the way. I think your mother does too.”

Blaine sighed and bit his lip. He wanted to tell his dad about how his mother had obviously maneuvered Kurt so Sebastian could get him alone. He didn’t.

“Dad? I have to tell you something.” Blaine laced his fingers together, looking back out toward the ocean. “And I just - I’m sorry, in advance. For lying to you.”

Stewart stood and looked at Blaine. “Blaine are you in trouble? Did something happen at school - did you fail a class?”

“No, no, nothing like that Dad.” Blaine chuckled. God he could only imagine what would happen if he failed a class. That would be much worse than lying. “I - Kurt’s, um, not really my boyfriend.”

“Blaine?” Stewart leaned on the railing. “I don’t understand? Why would you tell us he was if he wasn’t?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I,” Blaine cleared his throat. “I got tired of Mom asking about my love life, and trying to fix me up with this guy I’d never met from Ohio.” His dad nodded, so Blaine went on. “So when you guys came for dinner I asked him to just come out with us. I thought it would get her to leave me alone, you know? I’m so busy all the time, and dating is not easy in New York, apparently, and I just, I wanted her to lay off for a while. But I didn’t want to be rude about it.”

“I do appreciate you not wanting to be rude to your mother Blaine, but there was really no need to lie to us about this. You could have just told her you weren’t interested.”

“Don’t you think I tried that?” Blaine grumbled. “She can be pretty persistent.” Blaine was relieved that his father didn’t seem to be mad, or even disappointed to the point that Blaine’s guilt over the entire thing would get worse. But still, he felt like he should make some amends for it. “I’ll pay for all of Kurt’s extra costs this weekend, I promise. I told him he could use the spa and whatever hotel amenities there were to get him to come with me - and I’ll make sure I pay for all of it okay? I don’t want this to cost you anything, I just wanted to,” Blaine paused. “I just needed a break.”

Stewart was silent for a few stretched out minutes, and Blaine knew his father well enough to know he was weighing everything Blaine had just told him. “I think you should not tell your mother about this for now, if that’s alright with you - I’d like to avoid starting any drama at your cousin’s wedding, if that’s even possible. And we can worry about who pays for what later, and what to tell your mother.”

Blaine nodded. “Very alright. I’d like to never tell her, if possible.” Blaine sighed. “Thanks Dad.”

“For what?”

“For being understanding? I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Stewart hmmed, but didn’t say anything more about it. “How about we head back. The lunch is probably over by now and I should pretend I spent the afternoon mingling.”

Blaine just laughed, relieved, and followed his dad back to the party.

-

“What time are we due at dinner tonight?” Kurt asked after they’d made their goodbyes and were walking to the elevators.

“It’s late, not until 8:30 I think, after the rehearsal. Why?”

“If you don’t mind, I wouldn’t mind getting into the spa before then? I checked earlier and they had a few slots open for massages, and a facial would do me wonders. The air out here is saltier than I expected.”

Blaine lifted his chin, nodding once. “Oh! Of course, you should definitely take the opportunity. I might just take a nap. I feel like I’ve been up for two days.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow. “If you don’t mind my saying, maybe you should join me? You seemed a little tense in there, maybe a massage would help? A fancy hot shave?” Kurt wiggled his shoulders excitedly.

“I -” Blaine paused. He didn’t have any reason not to. And after confessing to his dad he felt a lot less pressured that he might make a mistake and let something slip. “Yeah okay. I don’t think I’ve ever had a professional massage before.”

Kurt clapped his hands. “Oh, you’re going to love it.”

-

The massage was exactly the right thing to work out the remaining anxiety Blaine had been holding onto since talking with his dad. He wasn’t entirely proud of the fact that he had lied to his parents about Kurt, but his dad did seem to understand, and they way the masseuse pressed and pushed and pulled every uncovered inch of his body seemed to realign his head into something that felt a little more like himself. He didn’t even get (too) distracted by Kurt walking around with nothing but a towel around his waist. Blaine felt good for the first time in what felt like weeks.

After their massages, Kurt stayed to take advantage of the nearly empty sauna, but all Blaine wanted was a long hot shower. So he excused himself, and went back to their room alone. If he indulged in a few private thoughts about the way the spa towel sat over the curve of Kurt’s ass, who could blame him?

Kurt still hadn’t returned by the time Blaine finished in the shower, so he pulled on sweatpants and a t-shirt and sat down to send Kurt a text.

Not sure when you’ll be back, wanted to let you know I’m going to try to take a nap before dinner. Don’t worry about making noise when you get back, I sleep like a rock.

Blaine put his phone on silent and dropped it on the bedside table. His last thought before dozing off completely was that he should probably tell Kurt that his dad knew everything now.

He didn’t hear his phone buzz with an incoming text.

-

Save me a spot on the bed. I feel like I’ve run a marathon, I may join you for that nap.