#bridesmen

“Indeed,” Kurt replies, preening under Blaine’s gaze. “And whatever you heard about me is probably true to an extent.”

“To an extent?”

“Santana can exaggerate, and Dani tends to calm her, so. Overall, ya know.”

Blaine’s smile deepens, making his eyes crinkle. 

It’s a testimony to how far gone Kurt is that he finds it adorable already.

They start walking around the corridors, and Kurt knows that it’s actually the longer way to the venue, but he can’t find it in himself to care. He’s walking side by side with a gorgeous man who has been giving him the Look™, and he will appreciate it for as long as he can.

“It’s a bit odd, isn’t it,” he starts, following his inner monologue.

“What is?”

“That we’re the best men in a lesbian wedding and we’ve never met each other.”

Blaine nods. “It is odd,” he replies, hands in his pockets. He truly exudes some old Hollywood vibes—really attractive and really inspiring—which Kurt really wants to appreciate in detail.

(Before messing it all up as he would ravish Blaine, but that’s for him and his mind to know.)

“In the past year, I have travelled a lot, I guess,” Blaine continues. “I kept in touch with Dani whenever I had a moment, though, and she let me crash at her place when I was back in town. But now I’m here to stay,” he adds, giving Kurt a sideway glance, “and I will not live with them as a married couple.”

“Wise. Trust me,” Kurt laughs, “you wouldn’t have handled living with them as an engaged couple.”

“Oh?”

“I know I didn’t handle it the most… gracefully, shall I say.”

“No, you did not,” Santana interrupts them, looking smoking hot, if Kurt may say so, in her three-piece suit. “But I forgive you.”

“How generous,” Kurt says in a deadpan, before pulling her into a hug. “You look amazing, ‘Tana.”

“I know,” she replies, brushing invisible lint from her lapel. She blushes as she does so, though, softening her statement. “Thank you. And you must be Dani’s Blaine.”

“You must be the love of my girl’s life,” Blaine replies, opening his arms and waiting for Santana to hug him.

She mutters something Kurt can’t decipher, but she still goes in for the hug. “She didn’t tell me her best friend was also her dad, though.”

“An old man in a young man’s body,” Blaine chirps back, making her laugh and making Kurt look down at the aforementioned body.

His glance doesn’t escape Santana’s attention, and he glares at her smirk.

“Now, come on, let’s get this rehearsal dinner over with,” she says, linking her arms with theirs to pull them along. “Dani’s nana is already hitting on the bar staff.”

“Leave her to me,” Blaine replies, patting Santana’s hand. “I’ll take care of her.”

“As in?”

“I’ll let her hit on me for the rest of the evening.”

“Cocky.”

“Knowledgeable. Nana Francesca loves to pinch my cheeks.”

“Which cheeks?”

“Yes.”

Kurt can’t help the roar of laughter that comes out at that cheeky reply. He doesn’t even notice when Santana leaves them alone to join her fiancée.

Where has Blaine been all this time?

Why didn’t Santana play matchmaker before?

Kurt mentally shrugs it off. What matters is that they do meet, doesn’t it?

“You’re…,” Blaine starts, beaming at Kurt before hesitating. “Um.”

“If it’s a compliment, go ahead.”

“You’re really beautiful when you smile like that.”

Kurt instantly runs his fingers through his hair to keep them from coming in front of his face. “Oh. Um, thanks. I usually… don’t.”

Blaine nods, like he understands what Kurt means by that, and maybe he does.

In which case, they have even more in common and why on Earth did Santana keep Kurt from his soulmate?!

“Come on, let’s take advantage of the bar,” Blaine offers, gesturing toward the already crowded section of the venue.

“Not planning on getting drunk tomorrow?”

“I’m a best man of honor,” Blaine replies, holding one hand to his heart. “I need to be at the ready to fulfill such a position.”

Kurt mentally goes through all the positions he would like Blaine to fulfill while, well, “at the ready,” but he quickly closes that file.

For now.

“And knowing Dani and her family,” Blaine continues, seemingly unaware of the depravation going through Kurt’s mind, “all she will need from me tomorrow will be to keep her mom and her nana away from the waiters. And the bar.”

“Which is a job that requires a full vigilance,” Kurt comments, observing the way the Ochoa women seem to be able to drink everybody under the table.

“Indeed.”

“As Santana’s best man of honor,” Kurt muses, “I guess my job will be to make sure she’s staying hydrated and she doesn’t get her hands on a microphone.”

Blaine looks doubtful. “You know they have a first duet planned, right?”

“What?”

“They rehearsed a song to sing as a married couple’s first duet, to surprise everybody who would expect a married couple’s first dance.”

“Oh Lord.”

“But Santana wouldn’t…”

“Oh she would.”

Blaine winces and Kurt nods. “You haven’t been around her much, have you?”

“Just every now and then, and she’s been perfectly nice.”

Kurt can’t help his snort. “Santana Lopez, nice?”

“In a rather delightfully brash way, yes.”

Kurt snatches two glasses of champagne and hands one to Blaine. “If you find Santana delightful, you’re definitely the man for the job.”

Blaine holds up his glass and clinks it with Kurt’s, a glint in his eyes. “Here’s to being the right men for the job.”

“Here, here.”

---

The rest of the rehearsal dinner is, Kurt must admit, quite a blur.

After a while, the waiter just leaves the tray of champagne glasses at the table Kurt and Blaine chose as their own, and they keep on talking all night long—they briefly pause when Santana’s grandmother and Dani’s father make their speeches, but otherwise, they only go their separate ways because both brides pulled them apart to go to sleep in the early morning.

Kurt can’t believe it took him this long to meet a man like Blaine. So perfect in his imperfections, so in tune with Kurt’s unspoken feelings and thoughts, so funny in a subtly dry way.

So handsome, too, especially at the end of the night when he untied his bowtie and left it hanging around his neck, two top buttons opened…

“Kurt, stop daydreaming about your man and come help me get in this dress!”

Santana’s call effectively wakes Kurt up from his fantasizing and he gulps down his mug of coffee.

“Don’t worry, ‘Tana,” he says, pulling down on the laced top of the dress to keep it in place in the back with tape, “nothing is going to go wrong.”

Santana takes a deep breath and looks at him in their reflection. “I know,” she replies softly. “Nothing can go wrong since I’m marrying my soulmate.”

The certainty in her voice makes something in Kurt’s chest tighten, but he brushes it aside.

Today is not the day to let self-pity take over. 

Besides, who knows; today may end with a slow dance in the arms of a perfect man…

“Ready?”

“Ready. Let’s make an honest woman out of me.”

“Ha, as if!”

---

Kurt has not been to a lot of weddings, and he may be biased, but he has never seen a more beautiful couple of brides.

And Blaine looks even more scrumptious today that he did the day before, in his pink suit.

Dani really did a good job of finding a color to compliment Santana’s simple cream choice.

The pink and cream colors are everywhere in the reception, with some darker highlights to remind everybody that those brides are first and foremost badasses, including in the married couple’s bouquets.

Once Santana and Dani charm everybody with their “first duet”—an acoustic version of “Here Comes The Sun” with Dani playing the ukulele—Kurt can finally breathe and enjoy the wedding.

Namely, he can spend all of his time with Blaine.

Or watching Blaine smoothly taking the bottle of tequila from Mrs. Ochoa Senior’s hands and replacing it with tall glasses of cocktails that are more fruits than alcohol, without a word of complaint.

Kurt also enjoys the sight of Blaine’s blush when the same woman manages to spank him lightly as he passes by with a plate of mini cakes.

On his way to Kurt, oh my.

“Hey.”

“Finally taking a break from your bridesman’s duties?”

“Yep,” Blaine says, popping the last sound as he drops his whole body into the chair next to Kurt. As he puts the plate of pastries between them, the back of his hand brushes against Kurt’s wrist, and all at once, Kurt understands the woes of all the Victorian heroines. “In about, oh, ten minutes, they’ll throw the bouquets, leave, and I will have performed my duties as best I could.”

Kurt blames the numerous glasses of Moscato wine he kept on taking away from Santana and drank on the multiple things he would like Blaine to perform, hopefully on him, preferably on a comfortable surface, but he’s not picky.

“Ah yes, the bouquets,” he says instead, picking up a strawberry tartlet. “AKA the Hunger Games of bachelorettes?”

“Yep. Except Santana and Dani want us in the crowd.”

“No.”

Blaine snickers, looking down at his shoes before looking back at Kurt, his smile boyish and Kurt could kiss it off his face. “Something about gender stereotypes being fought on the battleground or something.”

“Eurgh.”

“Hey, it was yours, not mine.”

“They’re ours, now.”

The words come out of Kurt’s mouth before he can stop himself, and he can feel a panic rising in his chest.

Blaine’s smile softens as he cocks his head to the side. “I like the sound of that,” he says, voice barely above a murmur.

And yet, above all the mayhem and the music and the shouts, Kurt only hears him.

“Oh.”

“Come on, let’s stand with all these young people,” Blaine says, standing and offering his hand. “And then, hopefully, you’ll allow me to have a dance.”

“And then?”

“And then we will see.”

Kurt takes Blaine’s hand. “That’s a program I can get on board with.”

There is quite a crowd assembled at the bottom of the stairs of the venue, where Santana and Dani stand, already changed in their traveling outfits, but still holding their bouquets. Blaine squeezes Kurt’s hand before going to Dani’s side of the crowd.

“Ready?” Santana calls, peals of laughter and wolf-whistles answering her. “Alright!”

They both turn and in the same move, throw their bouquets towards the crowd.

Kurt sees it happening in slow motion, lifting his arms to protect his face from the hands and elbows going in his direction.

And yet, his fingers close reflexively around the thing that lands in them.

“Oh,” he says when he opens his eyes and sees the bouquet in his hand, Mercedes clapping her hands and Santana shouting like he just scored a goal.

Over the heads and the crowd, Kurt immediately looks for Blaine.

And finds him with a matching bouquet in his hand, looking as dazzled as Kurt feels.

“Oh,” he repeats.

When Santana passes him by, she pulls him in a hug. “Go get him, Tiger,” she whispers before kissing his cheek. “We can wait for you to get together before we start having babies so they can grow up together.”

“Cart and horses, Santana,” he replies, shaking his head as he kisses her and sends her on her honeymoon way.

Kurt shakes his head, but his imagination is already considering the color scheme that would best suit both Blaine and himself.

“May I have this dance?”

Blaine’s voice cuts through Kurt’s planning, and here he is, holding up one hand with one cream rose tucked behind his ear.

Kurt beams at him, before pulling a pink rose to mirror Blaine’s new attire. He hands over the bouquet to Santana’s little niece who apparently won Dani’s bouquet from Blaine already and who shrieks in delight when she gets his.

“Yes,” he replies, wrapping his arms around Blaine’s neck. “Yes, you may.”

Blaine puts his hands on Kurt’s back, and they stay slow-dancing there, on the grass in front of the venue where the party kicks back to life.

Not a bad way to end a stressful month, as far as Kurt is concerned.

And turquoise and purple would make for a wonderful wedding theme, wouldn’t it?

(It would, but Kurt won’t know for sure for another couple of years.)

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