Okay folks, this is it! This is the final chapter before this part of my Hevans saga comes to a close. As I have said before, there is going to be a teeny epilogue, but that's it.

I'll be taking a break between this and the sequel, but fear not, there will be a sequel :) I'm still a bit iffy about where I am going to start it and a few (kind of major) details. I'll probably be talking about them on my tumblr, so stay tuned!

This chapter starts right where we left off. I mean, right where we left off :P I hope you guys like it, it's kind of a big moment/life changing event for Kurt, Sam too. This is kind of a glimpse of what their future could be like, minus a few jerky family members.

Enjoy!

Lunch passed far too quickly for Sam's liking and they found themselves stepping back into the cold Ohio air. "Do you have to go?" he whined.

Kurt chuckled. "Well, I do have a wedding cake to bake and decorate."

Sam pouted before giving the fair boy an appropriately-timed Eskimo kiss. He grinned suddenly, having come up with a brilliant plan. "You could bake the cake at my house!" he suggested. "That way your dad and Carole will be surprised!"

Kurt's face adopted a thoughtful expression as he pondered the possibility. "They would be surprised. I wanted them to not see it until the reception but I didn't want to kick them out of the kitchen any longer than I already had…"

"C'mon!" Sam encouraged. "I know that I can't really help with it, but then you can surprise them and we can spend more time together."

"And play in the snow?" Kurt asked slyly.

"Well," Sam replied bashfully, having been caught. "Just maybe when the cake is cooling."

The brunette boy chuckled and nodded. "Let me call my dad and make sure that's okay. We can bake the cake before the rehearsal dinner and by the time we come back, it'll be ready to be iced and decorated."

Sam whooped with happiness and jumped into a snow pile near his Camaro. Kurt grinned indulgently before dialing his father to obtain permission to bake at Sam's. And perhaps they would have time to pursue some other sweet activities, who knows?

Unsurprisingly, Burt had no problem with Kurt making their wedding cake at the Evans' home. The two teens stopped at the Hummel's home to collect the ingredients and Kurt's clothes for the rehearsal dinner and then they were off to Sam's once more.

Though the air inside Kurt's car was warm, the air outside was crisp and unforgiving. By the time the two of them had managed to bring all the bags inside the fair teen felt like an icicle.

Sam grinned and bundled him in front of the newly started fire for a moment, running upstairs to get them both something warm and comfortable to change into.

Kurt sat in front of the fireplace and cuddled the grey Frenchie close, the warm pup struggling against his hold and chilled hands.

Sam bounded downstairs and urged Kurt out of his impractical clothes and into a pair of his sweats and an old Dalton gym shirt that he was certain was going to find its way into his boyfriend's closet.

Kurt grinned in gratitude and allowed himself to be cuddled close, Sam rubbing warmth into his extremities. After about thirty minutes Kurt was declared warm enough to brave the kitchen and start on the many tiers of his father's cake.

Sam assisted him by measuring and pouring and providing the aspiring pastry chef someone to speak with while he constructed the delicious dessert. Kurt was glad for the Evans' double ovens, able to get all the tiers and ladyfingers in at one time instead of having to bake them in batches like he would have at home.

Kurt whipped up the filling, borrowing a measure of rum and coffee for the filling. As the fair teen scraped the last of the filling into a bowl to stow in the fridge Sam caught him about the waist and pinned him to the counter. He urged the other boy to face him and Kurt's breath hitched in his throat at the look in the blonde's eye.

Sam trapped his wrists in either hand and pressed a lingering kiss to each side of his neck before pulling back and staring into Kurt's eyes. The light skinned boy was torn between groaning and whimpering as held his eyes as he licked the sweet filling from his fingers.

Kurt leaned forward and captured Sam's full lips with his own, gasping into his mouth as the other boy whirled him away from the bowl of crème and into the island's countertop. Kurt wrapped his legs around Sam's waist and feebly struggled to get his wrists free.

Eventually Sam released his hands and Kurt's fingers immediately speared through his blond locks; so much for playing in the snow.

Kurt shivered as Sam's hands slipped under his shirt, the digits blissfully warm but sending sparks of electricity down his spine and gathering in his navel. As the fair boy was about to pull Sam's shirt off they were startled by the timer for the lady fingers and cake droning in the background.

The shorter teen pressed an apologetic kiss to Sam's lips and nodded towards the ovens. "I have to," she said softly, not wanting to ruin his father's wedding cake no matter how nice the distraction was.

He slipped on the oven mitts to grab the trays and rounds from the oven. The spongy cakes required the oven to swelter at 400 degrees but Sam's gaze on his back was far hotter, scorching him from head to toe.

Kurt quickly transferred the pastries over to cooling rack, tossing off the protective mitts once he had finished. Sam was right there, pulling him close and lifting him up, encouraging him to wrap his arms and legs around him.

Kurt clicked off the oven as Sam strode past it, giggling into his mouth, making their way toward the living room. He fell to his knees and gently deposited Kurt onto his back, the fair teen already pulling his shirt over his head. The heat of the fire was almost too much now, but Kurt luxuriated in the decadent feel of making love in front of a fireplace.

Sam pulled away from him to divest himself of clothing and Kurt followed suit, kicking off the borrowed sweats and boxer briefs, running his hands against the deliciously soft linens underneath him. He closed his eyes when he felt Sam's hands on him once more, starting at his ankles and slowly sliding to frame either side of his face.

Kurt pulled Sam into a passionate kiss, arching up into him and making sure to rub every inch of available skin together. The blond hummed happily and began kissing down his chest, pausing to lave attention to each nipple.

He mouthed at each one until they were rosy with abuse, Sam then kissing his way down his stomach, pausing to nip here or suck there. Kurt whimpered, knowing that the other teen was purposefully avoiding where he wanted to be touched most.

"Sam," he pleaded breathlessly. "Your mouth, please."

The tanned boy nodded against the soft planes of his stomach, sucking one last mark to the pale skin before licking at the base of his hardness. Kurt cried out before smothering his mewls in the thick blankets underneath them.

Sam sunk his mouth over the head and down, starting a lazy rhythm that maked Kurt writhe. His fingers tangled in blond hair as he tried not to pull but couldn't quite manage. "Oh," he cooed. "Sam."

The other teen just hummed contentedly, making Kurt squirm all the more. Sam pulled away and ignored the fait teen's whines. He pressed a kiss to his bellybutton before catching his eyes. "Be right back," he whispered. "I didn't plan to jump you in the kitchen, so I'm unprepared."

Kurt whimpered. Just when it was getting really good, the blond had to disappear. His hand shot forward. "Wait," he begged. "Please."

He shifted restlessly, trying to find some much needed friction to relieve the ache between his legs. "We still can," he promised. "Just, please, don't stop."

Sam sank back onto his knees and placed his hands at Kurt's hips, dipping down to nuzzle at his navel and lick at the sensitive, ticklish skin there. "All right," he growled softly, fitting his mouth over the top of his erection once more.

Kurt groaned let his hand come up to tangle in his own hair, tugging restlessly, while the other trailed down his chest, nails scratching lightly. "Sam," he panted, already close from his earlier ministrations.

His hips moved against his will, thrusting up into the wet heat of Sam's mouth. The blond just hummed lightly and encouraged Kurt to keep going. His callused fingers trailed between his legs and brushed tantalizingly over his entrance, making the slender boy cry out sharply. "Please, please," he begged needlessly.

Sam just hummed once more and increased the pressure of his fingers, making Kurt whimper and bite his lip until he tasted the coppery tang of blood. One of Sam's hands came up and he pressed a hand to his hip, his strong fingers feeling like a brand.

Kurt's mind went white when he came, dimly aware that he was making an embarrassingly shrill sound as he released into Sam's mouth. His body went limp and he could feel a faint tremor through his body.

He managed an eye roll at Sam's smug grin and flicked his fingers weakly, indicating he could continue. The tanned teen pressed a kiss to his lips before disappearing from Kurt's sight.

The brunette boy slumped against the tangle of blankets on the floor and reached for the tissues on the coffee table with a shaky hand. He half-heartedly swiped at the mess on his stomach and grinned as he heard Sam's hurried footsteps and a muffled curse when he stumbled into the flower pot at the end of the stairs, like he always did.

He smiled tiredly as Sam appeared in front of him and ran lazy fingers over his face. Sam returned the grin and leaned forward, catching his lips in a sweet kiss. Kurt sighed happily and allowed himself to be manhandled, a pillow being shoved under his hips.

Suddenly, Sam's uncharacteristically serious face swam into sight. "Are you sure you still want to?" he asked. "I don't want to be selfish."

"What are you talking about?" Kurt asked in confusion. "Selfish how?"

Sam just shrugged earnestly, color suffusing high on his cheek bones. "You already came," he said simply. "I know you said we could after, but I don't want to make you if you're sleepy."

"I'm not sleepy!" Kurt defended, even though he most certainly was. "I'm just relaxed." He leaned forward and framed Sam's face in his hands, gently peppering kisses to his heated cheeks. "Besides, do you really think I'd have a problem telling you I didn't want to have sex?"

Sam chuckled. "I guess not."

He nipped at Kurt's jaw and lapped at the smooth skin there. His earlier sense of urgency was gone and he was feeling rather tender at the moment. He closed his eyes and ran his hands over the smooth planes of Kurt's body, sighing in appreciation.

He fumbled around with closed eyes and searched for the bottle of lube he had tossed onto the blankets and murmured happily when his fingers closed around the plastic container. He feathered kissed down Kurt's body until his head was pillowed in his thighs so he could watch himself get the other boy ready for him.

He heard Kurt's quiet intake of breath when he pressed the first finger inside, loving the breathy noises the other boy made when they were together.

Sam took his time getting Kurt ready and before long the other boy was hard and aching again. Kurt didn't know whether to curse or praise teenage stamina, but he was as eager as ever for Sam's touch.

The blond stroked over Kurt's prostate one last time before withdrawing his finger and groping for the condom. He opened the foil packet carefully and slid the latex sheath over his hardness, shivering at the sensation. "Ready?" he asked.

Kurt nodded empathically and chewed on his already-abused lower lip. "Sam," he pleaded, feeling far more desperate than anyone that had come not ten minutes prior had any right to feel.

He impatiently wrapped his legs around Sam's waist and mewled as he felt Sam slowly press inside him. Kurt swore he could feel him everywhere, stretching him and making him squirm. "Sam," he panted again.

Sam may have been in the mood for tender and slow but one glance at the clock made his swear underneath his breath.

"What is it," Kurt asked, hand low on his back and urging him to move faster.

"Nothing," Sam said, picking up the pace. They had time for slow later, after the cake had been frosted and Sam could lick the rest of the batter off his fingers once more, and perhaps a few other places as well.

The tall boy positioned into Kurt, taking his breath away and causing him to arch his back to the point of pain. "Yes," he breathed. "Yes—don't stop!"

Sam merely grunted in concentration and let out a tortured moan when Kurt squeezed around him like a vice, coming between them once more. The hot seed spilled between them made his thrusts stutter to a halt and he let out a hoarse shout as he came, trembling harshly.

He panted and held himself over Kurt with quivering limbs. "Baby," he said reverently. He pressed a soft kiss to Kurt's flushed temple and nuzzled his nose into sweaty hair.

He caught the glow of the clock once more and sighed. "I hate to break the mood," he began. "But we really need to get in the shower if we are going to make it to the rehearsal in time."

"What?" Kurt squawked, afterglow disappearing in a haze of panic. He glanced at the clock in horror and saw that it really was only an hour and half from when they would be meeting for the rehearsal.

Luckily, it wasn't taking place at the ceremony site, but in town at Breadstix. They had been permitted to use the fancier veranda as a makeshift practice alter and ceremony site before being seamlessly transformed into a cute, intimate dinner.

Kurt winced as Sam pulled away from him and gave himself a moment to collect his thoughts before getting up. "Okay," he began. "I have a feeling if we share a shower, we'll never be ready in time."

Sam nodded reluctantly and helped the other boy off the floor, gathering the blankets as Kurt paced. "You take my room," he said. "It has more space and I know you'll need to get ready. I'll clean this up so it's not here when my parents get in tonight and hop in the shower hallway if you aren't finished. All right?"

Kurt nodded and gave the other boy a rueful look. "Sorry I totally killed the mood," he said.

Sam shrugged. "You didn't. It was kind of silly for us to get into this while we were already so busy. Now go!" he encouraged with a laugh.

Kurt gave him one last kiss and snatched his satchel up as he ran up the stairs, using it to cover his behind from view. He looked over his shoulder and gave Sam a knowing look and slipped inside his room, wicked laughter making Sam chuckle to himself.

He cleaned up the evidence of their lovemaking and tossed the blankets they had rolled about on in the wash. His parents should be home around ten o'clock, giving them plenty of time to rest up for the evening wedding.

He took one last look at the living room and deemed it clean and jogged up the stairs. He was unsurprised to hear Kurt in the shower and quickly hopped into the hall bath, washing quickly but efficiently.

He stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist and took another to scrub the water from the rest of him, draping it over his head as he walked to his room.

He opened the door to find Kurt leaning over the bathroom sink, rubbing some kind of lotion onto his skin with quick, practiced motions. He smiled when he was Sam and finished with whatever he was doing. "Do you need in here?" he asked.

Sam shook his head in amusement. "No, go ahead and do your hair. I'm just going to toss on the outfit that has magically appeared on my bed and I can brush my hair in the mirror on the closet door."

Kurt blushed at picking Sam's outfit. "You don't have to wear it," he said sheepishly. "I just looked in there for the robe I left here and I saw all your clothes and before I knew it I had rifled through them all and picked something for you to wear tonight."

Sam just shook his head good naturedly and pulled on the soft chocolate colored trousers and ran his hands down the smooth fabric. "I don't remember these," he said softly.

"Well, you should definitely wear them more often," Kurt announced. "They look wonderful on you. Warm colors look so flattering on you. I always thought brown was a boring color, but I was mistaken, it seems."

Sam felt himself blush at Kurt's words of praise. "Thanks," he said bashfully.

Kurt just smiled shyly before rustling about his bag and pulled on his own trousers. His were a soft wheat color and fitted, though still appropriate for meeting family for such an important dinner.

"I notice we match," Sam said. "I mean, right? Tan and brown match, don't they?"

Kurt laughed softly and nodded. "Yes, they match. And yes, I did that on purpose. It wouldn't do to sit next to someone in grey all evening."

Sam just rolled his eyes at his boyfriend's antics and swiped on his Old Spice deodorant before pulling on the light sweater Kurt had picked. It was a deep green and it made Sam think he kind of resembled a tree but like, in a good way.

He started when he felt Kurt's hands smoothing over his back, pulling the wrinkles from his sweater and a few stray R2 hairs. "Can I trust you to pick your own shoes?" he asked jokingly.

"I think so," Sam replied, going for a pair of brown leather boots that made Sam think about Steampunk. He briefly debated picking something else, but he loved them and they would be tucked under his pants.

He glanced back and Kurt and watched as he buttoned a pale yellow vest over his white long-sleeved shirt with a faint and delicate blue flower pattern. He finished it with a bowtie that Sam had bought for him at the Ren Fest because it reminded him of the tea cups Kurt's mother had always used that sat in the Hummel's hutch. He slipped into a pair of white shoes and ran nervous fingers through his hair.

"Kurt," Sam called. "Relax—I can see how tense you are from here. We're going to make it in more than enough time, you look wonderful, and I can't wait until tomorrow."

Kurt smiled and blushed at being caught so flustered. "You just want some of that cake," he teased to cover his anxiety.

Sam winked. "Guilty."

He got up and wrested the comb from Kurt's hand. "Now get in the car; we have a rehearsal to attend."

The rehearsal dinner is going to go off without a hitch, Kurt thought vehemently. He relaxed when he saw his father arrive on time and sans ball cap and jeans. Carole looked smug, so he supposed he had her to thank for his father's acceptable appearance, adhering to decorum for once.

They ran through the ceremony but Carole and Burt did not rehearse their vows. They had chosen to write them and didn't want the other to hear until the ceremony, which the pale boy found incredibly romantic.

Kurt was glad to see he was not the only one that was more than a little teary eyed about the entire affair and whimpered at Sam gratefully when he wordlessly held out a cloth napkin and rubbed his back in comfort.

"I'm just really happy," he squeaked, nearly dreading the ceremony if this was a taste of what was to come.

Sam just nods and keeps rubbing his back in a smooth circular motion. "I know, baby," he assures. "Don't be embarrassed. Everyone here loves you."

Kurt gave him a watery smile and cuddled close, not caring about what anyone might say or think. Everyone here did love him, with the few exceptions for Carole's family that he had yet to meet, but they had all smiled at him nicely before taking their places.

Then the "ceremony" was done and they were all ready for dinner. Kurt had worked with the owner and chef, as well as his parents, to compose a smaller, healthier menu for their party.

He knew his father was going to order the Italian sausage with peppers and onions since he was practically a carnivore. Carole would most likely order the linguini with clam sauce since it's all he's heard about for two days.

Kurt, however, was looking forward to a giant salad. He'd felt heavy from all the rich food Sam had been tricking him into eating and he had been looking forward to the tangy dressing and crisp lettuce since lunch, when Sam had goaded him into another plate of barbecue turkey and macaroni and cheese.

He sighed in anticipation leaned close to his father, resting his head against his shoulder for a moment before turning to Sam. "What are you going to get?" Kurt asked.

"The sausage, I think," he answered predictably. "And the salad."

Kurt nodded. "I'm getting the soup and the big salad."

The soup was Italian wedding, of course, and though it was kind of corny, Kurt thought it was cute. For dessert they had opted out of the tiramisu, since it was going to be their wedding cake, and chosen the cannoli instead.

Halfway through the appetizer course Kurt was finished with his soup and took a moment to survey the guests. Most of them were laughing and eating or taking their turn to have a word with the happy couple.

Except one.

Kurt's heart froze in his chest and his fingers tightened on Sam's thigh mercilessly. The tall boys looked at him questioningly and, try as he might, Kurt couldn't school his face into something resembling normal.

"What is it," he asked softly, covering the boy's hand with his own. "What's wrong?"

He wrenched his eyes away from the lone figure and looked at Sam anxiously. "My aunt is here," he whispered.

"The one that…?"

"Yes," he hissed. He didn't know what to do. Should he ignore her? Tell his father? Go speak to her?

Finally, he knew he had to at least draw his father's attention to her presence, and the leave it up to him to decide.

He took a deep breath and looked to his father. "Daddy," he whispered, tapping his father on the shoulder. "Su—Aunt Susan is here."

The color drained from his father's face and he looked to where Kurt nodded. Carole patted his shoulder and looked at him in support. "Do whatever you need to," she encouraged. "Just…don't let anyone ruin anything for you."

Kurt nodded in agreement and released a shaky breath. He hadn't seen his aunt since… since before his mother died. A while before his mother died.

He chanced a look over at the two of them and noticed that Susan looked more sad than anyone he had ever seen, aside from the early days of his mother's passing, when he saw such sadness in his father and himself.

He looked at Carole worriedly and was horrified to feel tears prick at the corners of his eyes. This is not why he wanted to be crying at his parent's rehearsal dinner.

He didn't want to hope that things had changed. He didn't want to let himself hope that his aunt would have had a change of heart and stopped her hurtful, hateful ways that had torn them apart. Her husband had been a fiercely religious and intolerant man, and she had taken up his ideals shortly after they married, cutting all ties with them.

He tried to get a clear look at her ring finger, but the light was poor and she was just too far away to see If there was a band on her nearly skeletal fingers. Her eyes were sunken in and she looked absolutely ragged.

He almost found himself rising from his seat to approach them, but only Sam's comforting hand on his leg kept him rooted to his seat and the tears at bay.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked.

Kurt swallowed and pushed his empty bowl away from him, stomach roiling tumultuously. "I don't know," he said honestly. "We'll see when my dad gets back."

And then, suddenly, he wasn't okay. He was overcome with a sense of nausea and hurriedly excused himself from the table. He rushed through the restaurant, distantly aware that Sam was hot on his heels, and burst into the private handicap bathroom.

He said a mentally apology to anyone that might have legitimate claim to using this restroom, and not someone who didn't want to kneel on the ground of a public men's room.

He wretched miserably, emptying the contents of his stomach repeatedly. He briefly mourned the fact that he was certain he wouldn't be able to eat barbecue for a while and tried to repress the tears that always came when he got sick like this.

Finally, he just couldn't, and whimpered before sobs broke loose. He felt pathetic; huddled on the ground of a restaurant bathroom, crying his eyes out, and throwing up, all over seeing a family member that had deserted him and his father.

"Shh," he heard Sam whisper softly, rubbing his back and pressing a cold paper towel to the back of his neck. "Easy, baby."

He took a stuttering breath and nodded, hoping to convey to Sam his mental breakdown was (mostly) over. "Can you do me a favor?" he asked roughly. "Go into the glove compartment of my car and get my little travel toothbrush and toothpaste?"

Sam nodded and pressed a kiss to his clammy forehead. He slipped out of the door and Kurt allowed himself a minute to wallow in his sorrow. He started when the door opened far too quickly for it to be Sam returning with his toothbrush.

His father peeked into the door and looked at him guiltily. "Bambi," he breathed. "What happened?"

Kurt tried to shrug it off nonchalantly, not wanting his father to know he'd gotten sick due to the presence of a long-gone family member.

"Don't you lie to me," Burt said, knowing that his son was deliberately withholding information. "Is this because of Susan?"

Kurt briefly debated lying, but just settled for nodding his head and tiredly levering himself up off the floor. He rinsed his mouth out, desperately craving a toothbrush. "Sorry," he croaked. "I don't know what happened."

Burt sighed. "I do. You make yourself sick with worry. I'm so sorry, Kurt," he began contritely. He shushed his son before he could defend his father's actions, rubbing Kurt's arm in comfort. "I didn't think about how this could affect you."

"S'okay," he rasped. "I think it's just a combination of all the nerves."

Kurt hoped his father bought that, because he didn't know what else to say on the subject. Yes, it hurt that his family was gone and didn't really care to know him, but it would hurt even more if they came back into his life and went away once more.

He was comfortable like this. They had a family and they were happy and comfortable and only had to worry about one another. He didn't know if he could trust his father's sister.

He cleared his throat and tried to come up with something to say. "So… um, what did she have to say?"

Burt shook his head painfully and looked around the small, dimly lit bathroom in confusion. "Sorry?" he said uncertain. "She said…she said she never should have listened to her husband. Heck, that she never should have married him."

"What?"

"I guess she found out that he was a racist, sexist, bigoted, creature."

Kurt and his father shared a look. That was abundantly obvious to them when he turned her away from them because of Kurt's "strangeness".

"Apparently, she left him," his dad continued. "She says she's seen the error of her ways. We'll see."

They remained silent, and Kurt could see the shadows of Sam's feet outside the door, wanting to give them privacy but ready with Kurt's toothbrush. He opened his mouth to speak, but his father beat him to it.

"Be honest; do you think it's wrong that I don't trust my own sister?"

Kurt paused and his thoughts moved in a thousand different directions. In any other circumstance, he may have said yes. But she had proved to the both of them that she wasn't trustworthy and she didn't care that she had hurt them, at least, not until very recently.

Now, she supposedly did, but it was too little too late. "No," he finally said. "No. She has a lot to make up for."

Burt nodded. "She said she's coming to the ceremony tomorrow, but if it's going to upset you or make you uncomfortable, I'll tell her not to come. You are the most important thing in my life, Bambi. Nothing else matters."

Kurt felt choked up again at his father's admission but he shook his head no. "No, it'll be fine. There is going to be so much to do and so many people that I doubt I'll even see her. Not that that would matter."

Burt took a long look at his son before nodding decisively. "I'm still going to speak to her, but okay. I love you, Kurt. Never forget that."

Kurt shook his head. "I'd give you a kiss right now," he said thickly. "But my mouth is gross."

It had the desired effect of making his father laugh as he opened the door on a startled Sam. "Go on in, kid." And with a pat on the back, he was gone.

Sam entered the room and held out Kurt's little toiletry kit, his face soft with concern. "I'm okay," he assured. When the other boy didn't look convinced, he continued. "My dad is right; I worry myself sick."

The blond frowned worriedly and leaned against the wall as Kurt put himself back together. He brushed his teeth but he still felt disgusting and sent a brief mental thank you to himself for being so prepared, for any occasion.

He ran some warm water and splashed it over his face before squeezing some face wash onto his hands and scrubbing away the tension and sweat. He took the proffered paper towels and dried off. "Sorry," he said quietly. "I hope I didn't completely ruin your appetite."

Sam shrugged. "Pretty sure that's impossible."

Kurt chuckled. "Well, let's go back to dinner and try to act like I didn't just have a nervous breakdown in a restroom and have to be calmed down by my boyfriend and my father."

The tanned teen just clucked sympathetically and the two made their way to the veranda once more. Kurt took his seat and had just enough time to take a refreshing sip of water before the waiter placed his salad in front of him.

He smiled in thanks and glanced over at Sam's dish, his stomach roiling nervously. He looked away quickly and focused resolutely on his bowl of greens and bowl of soup.

He picked at his salad and glanced around the guest nervously, looking for his father's sister. He mentally shook himself; it's not like she was going to suddenly pop up in front of him and point an accusatory finger at him, screaming about his unnaturalness.

Kurt was worried about some inevitable confrontation. His father had said she was sorry, which means he would probably have to deal with some kind of apology with varying degrees of sincerity.

He didn't want to hear it. He knew it sounded strange, especially since he had been so hurt by his family's abandonment, but he really didn't.

What was he supposed to say? It wasn't okay, and he wasn't going to excuse anyone, but he really didn't want to quarrel when he knew it hurt his father to be apart from his family.

Fuck them, Kurt thought venomously. They don't deserve us, anyway.

He chewed on his lower lip agitatedly. He'd cross that bridge when he got there. He munched on his salad with a renewed appetite, smiling at his father when he caught his eye.

Kurt narrowed his eyes in confusion when his father frowned at him. "What is it?" he asked softly.

Burt gestured to his lip with his knife. "What happened to your lip?"

The slender teen reached forward and touched his mouth, hissing when the salt on his hand stung whatever abrasion was on his lip. He grabbed his spoon and looked at his reflection in the metal. He frowned when he saw his split lip before being hit with realization.

He hoped the low lighting would hide the blush on his face. He recalled biting his lip ragged earlier, when he and Sam were amorously involved. He tried to school his features into a mask of indifference and looked back to his father.

"I must have bit it earlier and not noticed. I was kind of preoccupied, you know?"

He felt bad for using his father's guilt over the fact his estranged sister showed up to hide the real reason for his split lip, but he liked having a boyfriend and had no desire to cancel the nuptials because his father killed Sam with a breadstick and was now sitting in a dank jail cell. Thankfully, he bought it. His lips thinned in displeasure but he clapped a comforting hand on his shoulder.

By the time dessert rolled around he had nearly forgotten all about the impromptu reunion and was enjoying the night once more. He had felt brave enough to share a brief kiss with Sam over a cannoli, the sweet filling making him think of the romantic dinner he had prepared for him.

After all the guests had cleared out and the bill had been settled, Kurt and Sam were making their way out to his Navigator when they were stopped by Finn.

The tall teen was heartwarmingly worried over his speech at the reception. Finn had been agonizing over it for weeks and desperately wanted his soon-to-be-brother's opinion on it.

Kurt walked back over to one of the outside tables and spread the untidy speech onto the surface. He concentrated on the surprisingly heartfelt sentiments as Sam and Finn talked about some kind of sports behind him. Probably football. Something with a ball.

He made a few notations, corrected some minor grammar mistakes and misused words, and handed it back to the lanky boy. "This is really great," he said sincerely. "Your mom is going to love it; everyone will."

Finn bit his lip uncertainly. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," Kurt assured. "You can really tell you put a lot of thought into it."

Finn smiled his goofy smile and pulled Kurt into a brief, crushing hug. "See you later!"

He and Sam shared a look of amusement before the blond held a hand out to Kurt. "Ready to get back to making that wedding cake?"

Kurt looked at him wryly. "Are you going to let me finish the cake this time?"

Sam had the good grace to look sheepish but nodded nonetheless. "Yes, I think I can manage that. Besides, my parents are home."

The brunette chuckled and rolled his eyes. "I figured as much. Now let's go; we have to finish the cake and get you all packed to for tomorrow, since you're getting ready at my house."

Sam nodded and placed a hand at the small of his back, leading him to the car. "Want me to drive?" he asked, remembering Kurt's earlier distress.

"Please?"

The blond nodded and they made their way through the nearly empty parking lot to his car. Kurt narrowed his eyes as he approached his car, seeing something on the windshield. He sighed and rolled his eyes; it would be just his luck that some homophobic jock from school saw him and Sam together tonight and left a scathing note on his very recognizable car.

He stood on his toes and snagged the pink sheet of paper as Sam opened the door for him. He hopped into the seat and buckled his seatbelt before reluctantly opening the wrinkled paper and immediately slamming it shut.

Susan. It was from Susan.

It had been a while since he had seen her handwriting on anything so much as a birthday card, but it wasn't something he could forget. He had admired his estranged aunt's handwriting when he was younger, fluid and curling like some kind of calligraphy, before she'd cut off all contact.

"Oh my God," Kurt breathed shakily. He felt the paper crumple in his fist. "Oh my God."

Then the driver's side door opened and Sam hefted himself into the seat. He put the keys in the ignition and smiled over at Kurt, the happy expression freezing on his face.

"Kurt?" he asked bewilderedly. "Kurt, what is it?"

He couldn't bring himself to speak, merely thrusting the letter towards the other boy. Sam gently pried it from his fist and smoothed it out over the steering wheel. "Susan?" he asked.

Kurt realized he had never told Sam the name of their surprise visitor. "My aunt—the woman that showed up."

Sam's eyebrows rose in alarm. "Oh," he said. "Oh, wow. Did—did you read it?"

The pale boy shook his head emphatically. "No," he said thickly.

"Do you…want me to?" Sam offered hesitantly.

Kurt wrestled with the idea. On one hand, he was frightfully curious what this woman thought she had the right to say to him after all these years. On the other, he was terrified of what she had to say. He knew that even the most confident person could be derailed by hateful words. Somehow, the cruel knew just where to hit.

"No," he eventually said. "No. I…I just can't. Get rid of it. Please…get rid of it."

The blond worried his lip for a moment before nodding and slipping out of the car and tossing the pink paper into a nearby trash can.

He hopped back into the car and fastened his belt and started the car. He adjusted the heat and carefully pulled out of the parking lot. They made most of the trip in silence until Kurt finally spoke up, just moments from Sam's house.

"Do you think I'm a coward for not reading that letter?"

Sam looked over at him, startled. "Why would you even think that?"

"It was just a letter," Kurt needled. "Just a letter, and I couldn't read it. It made me feel sick."

The other boy slowed to a stop on the side of the road and looked at him. He shook his head slowly, face beautiful and serious. "Words can hurt," he said simply.

That forced a tearful chuckled out of him. "Yeah, they can," he agreed sadly.

"Are you going to be okay?"

Kurt could only shrug. "We'll see."

Sam worried his lip unhappily but continued on to his house. When they pulled into the drive they could see Mr. Evans' car in the drive, signaling their arrival home.

They slowly trudged up the steps and pushed inside. Kurt could hear the sounds of distant unpacking and muffled curses as they entered the house, making him smile in spite of himself.

"Why don't you go upstairs and change?" Sam suggested. "I'll check in with my parents."

Kurt nodded and took the steps slowly, walking into Sam's room and softly closing the door. He collapsed onto the other boy's soft bed and sighed gustily. He felt like his emotions have been every which way and sideways on the course of a few hours and now he was emotional exhausted.

He groaned and levered himself from bed. Regardless of his feelings, he had a cake to finish. Nothing was going to stand in the way of him making his father's big day perfect.

He pulled on a pair of sweats and the shirt Sam had given him earlier and made his way to the bathroom. He turned on the faucet and waited for the water to warm, leaning heavily against the sink.

He heard footsteps coming up the stairs but closed his eyes and leaned towards the sink, splashing the warm water on his face. When that wasn't enough, he grabbed a wash cloth and soaked it before pressing it to his face.

He felt rather than heard someone coming up behind him. He was able to tell it was Sam just by his presence, and it brought a tired smile to his face. A dry towel was offered to him and he took it gladly, patting at his face gently.

"Thanks," he said quietly. He turned to face the other boy slowly.

Sam was holding a glass of water and two blue pills in his hand. "Advil," he said simply. "Kind of thought you might need it."

Kurt nodded and took the pills and water appreciatively. He really did need them. He could feel the beginning of the mother of all tension headaches coming on, and he really needed to be able to focus on the task at hand.

Sam pressed a kiss to his lips after he'd finished the water and took the glass from his hand, turning back to his room to change his clothes as well. Kurt sat on the desk chair and closed his eyes, waiting for the meds to kick in and his boyfriend to change.

The blond pulled off his fancy clothes with a barely audible groan of relief, making Kurt smile. Sometimes, Sam was such a guy.

He pulled on a pair of thick, worn sweats and a long sleeved lacrosse shirt; yet another sport he played at Dalton. Did he mention he liked sports?

He shuffled forward and pressed a kiss to Kurt's slightly warm forehead. "Are you ready to go downstairs?"

Kurt sighed before opening his eyes and looking up at Sam. "I think so," he whispered. And then, "Yes, let's go."

He mustered a smiled and grabbed his phone from his bag, following Sam downstairs. The blond boy was worried about Kurt. He knew that tomorrow was going to be stressful enough without the added factor of possible estranged, renegade family members.

When he'd come in he'd immediately sought out his parents and warned them not to ask how dinner went; as they were most likely going to do. Sam figured that Kurt wouldn't want to relive that unpleasantness, even though the dinner was a success if one didn't take Susan into account.

They entered the kitchen and Kurt checked on all the lady fingers and layers. He smiled in satisfaction, despite his slowly dissipating bad mood. "Want to help?" he asked.

Sam nodded eagerly, glad that Kurt trusted him enough to ask. "Of course. What do you need?"

Kurt gestured to a cutting board on the counter before washing his hands. "Can you slice the strawberries, like, really carefully? Make them as even as you can?"

The tanned boy nodded and grabbed the berries for the fridge, placing them on the cutting board and moving onto the island counter. He carefully pulled the paring knife from the block and focused his attention on the removing the stems from the berries.

While Sam did that, Kurt carefully assembled the tiers. He filled the centers with crème and adhered the ladyfingers all along the outside before grabbing the thick, red organza ribbon and tying it around the outside.

It was painstaking work, but it was just what Kurt needed. The attention to detail it required enabled him to push Susan from his mind and relax.

Tomorrow was going to be a whirlwind of a day. Kurt was nervous about transporting the cake and was contemplating calling Jennifer and begging her to let him bring the cake tonight. He wanted to have the entire thing assembled tonight, but there was just no way to store a five tier cake in any of the freezers available to him at the moment.

Assembling the tiers would not be difficult, and he would only have to leave an hour before his father and Carole. He was helping Burt get dressed before hustling over and doing his almost-stepmother's hair and makeup and then dressing himself.

No, Kurt would never plan another wedding, apart from his own, again.

He could hear the snick of the knife on the cutting board behind him and was calmed by Sam's peaceful company. He was such a restful person to be around. Sure, the blond could get bouncy and enthusiastic but, for the most part, he was such a chill guy.

Unlike Kurt, who was notoriously and admittedly high strung. Since the pair of them starting dating, the fair teen felt that he had relaxed considerably. He hoped. Maybe?

Behind him, he heard Sam sigh in satisfaction. "All done," he said. "Want me to rinse the other berries? Are you ready for them?"

Kurt put the finishing touches on the last ribbon and nodded, his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth in concentration. Sam smiled at the habit and grabbed the raspberries and blueberries from the fridge and gave them a good rinse.

He placed them near Kurt's hands and peered over his shoulder. "They look great," he said admiringly. Kurt just grinned and elbowed him lightly.

"They're not even done yet," he said shyly.

Sam shrugged. "Still, it looks really good. I can't wait until tomorrow," he teased.

Kurt smiled and nodded in agreement but there was an anxiety that hadn't been there a few hours ago thanks to Susan. He couldn't wait to watch his father get married to the woman he loved, they both loved, but he couldn't help but dread the number of things that could go wrong on the big day, including a confrontation with his aunt.

The next hour went by quickly and before he knew it Sam was waist deep in one of the deep freezers, rearranging all the things inside to make room for the cake. He turned the temperature to something that wouldn't freeze the cake solid and carefully placed the delicate tiers into the cool container.

"So, I'll come by about three hours or so before the wedding? Then we can ride over together and I'll have enough time to put together the cake and still help everyone get ready."

Sam nodded and pressed a kiss to Kurt's tense mouth. "As much as I'd like you to stay," he murmured. "You should probably get on home and try to get as much sleep as you can."

The slender teen was just as reluctant to part with Sam but recognized the sound logic he presented. "You're right."

The blond winked and smiled at him smugly, helping Kurt to gather his things and walk him out to his Navigator. Kurt unenthusiastically got in the driver's seat and sighed as he looked at Sam, not wanting to close the door and make his way home.

"I know, baby," Sam whispered. He reached out and brushed back Kurt's bangs. "Text me when you get home."

He leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to Kurt's mouth before softly shutting the door with a dull whump. He stood in the drive and watched as his boyfriend pulled away, a sullen look on his face.

He ambled back towards his house, hoping his mother was still awake. He didn't think Kurt was going to be as alright as he claimed, and he definitely needed to talk to his mom about the events of the night. Sam always felt better after sharing his burden with his family, and while he was fairly confident in his ability to be there for Kurt, no matter the circumstances, a little advice wouldn't be remiss.

Kurt was going to be sick. He had never been so stressed in his life. There was about ten minutes before Carole would glide down the aisle to meet his father at the altar and he had locked himself in the bathroom with an offhand comment about fixing his hair.

Outside the door he could hear the soft, droning voices of Carole's bridesmaids and a few family members, laughing excitedly, and the ruffle of satin and silk.

He sat on the closed lid of the toilet and dropped his head into his hands, breathing deeply and steadily in hopes of making his jumping heart calm down.

The cake had nearly been a catastrophe. One of the boorish servers had decided the cake table needed to be moved and merely pushed at it, sending it roughly across the floor just moments after Kurt had painstakingly assembled it.

He watched as it wobbled precariously and vocalized his displeasure shrilly until the recalcitrant waiter stopped. Thankfully, Sam had come up to the Winston House with him and had been there to calm him down nearly every step of the way.

He had been there to take speak with Jennifer when the bows at the ceremony site had suddenly been replaced with wreaths, when all Kurt could do was gesture frantically. He had been there when Kurt had discovered the reputable DJ they had hired had been replaced with his nephew that had subtly attempted to change the playlist he had been given because he felt that their choice of first dance was "totally lame".

However, Sam hadn't been there when he went out to his car to grab the dress socks that had managed to escape his suit bag and he'd discovered his aunt and her brood unloading from their van. Her eyes focused on him immediately and he practically dove into the car, grabbed his socks, and ran up to the bridal suite like the hounds of hell were at his heels.

Carole and her bridal party started when he burst into the room. He simply grinned and shivered exaggeratedly, causing them all to titter and dismiss the matter. They all turned back and cooed over Carole, enabling him to indulge in a moment of shameless, self-indulgent panic.

After he composed himself he spent the moments until the ceremony in a cloud of powder and hairspray. Not only did he do Carole's hair and makeup, but that of her bridal party as well. Had he known absolutely none of her bridesmaids (matrons?) had bothered to make appointments or even have a plan on how they were going to prepare for one of their beloved friend's big days, he would have come even earlier.

As it was, he was fairly certain he had just shaved years off his life by inhaling an entire can of aerosol hairspray. While he bought all natural products, it seems Carole and her friends did not abide by the same practice.

He exhaled one last time and looked at himself in the mirror. He flicked his fingers through his hair and spritzed some of his own gentler hairspray on his hair and patting at his face with a cool cloth.

There came a tentative knock at the door and Carole peeked her head in tentatively as if sensing that Kurt was in distress. "Kurt, honey?" she began. "Are you nearly ready? Finn is here and we're all ready to go as soon as you are."

Kurt managed to muster a genuine smile for the woman that was about to become his mother. "I'm ready," he said, stepping out of the bathroom. He pressed a gentle kiss to her rosy cheek and willed back his tears. "You look wonderful," he murmured sincerely.

She gave him a watery grin and rubbed his arm comfortingly. He turned to Finn, filling the role of the one to give his mother away, and smiled in pleased shock. "Wow! Don't we look sharp?"

The lanky teen flushed under all the scrutiny, but he did indeed look dashing. Kurt stood firm in his belief that a simple, well-fitting black suit looked good on every man, and this was no exception. There was a splash of color in the form of his crimson tie and pocket square and he looked mature beyond his years.

"Thanks," the tall boy mumbled. "Um, you look good too?"

Kurt chuckled, knowing that the questioning tone came more from not knowing what looked good than not wanting to appear gay. He was so glad that they were passed all that that he couldn't even articulate it properly.

"I'll see you two in a few minutes," he said with a wave, weaving his way through the red-clad bridal party and to the door.

He made his way to the ceremony site, where his father and the groomsmen all milled about impatiently. He approached his father and grinned at him warmly. "Ready, Dad?"

Burt huffed out a relieved breath. "Bambi," he sighed in relief. "Good, we were just waiting for you to start."

He hugged his father and straightened his tie. "Sorry to keep you waiting. Now, let's get you married."

His dad took a deep, shaky breath and nodded to Kurt once. The fair boy waved to Jennifer and the owner of the property motioned for all the guests to take their places.

There was a general flurry of activity as members of two families mingled and took their seats. After everyone was settled the groomsman took their places before his father took his solo march up the aisle, a nervous, yet serious, expression on his face.

They stood at the altar, the non-denominational officiate beaming at them as the Vivaldi's "Primavera" started up, signaling the procession of bridesmaids.

Carole's bridal party consisted of only three women, and Kurt was grateful. Judging from the nervous excitement humming through his father's body, he most likely would have charged down the aisle to retrieve Carole had there been any more, unable to stand the delay.

When the future Mrs. Hummel walked down the aisle there was an audible intake of breath. Wagner's traditional bridal march played and Carole appeared, carrying her bouquet of Queen Anne's lace and hydrangea.

Her dress was made of a simple ivory silk, hugging her body loosely. It was gathered to one side with a bejeweled embellishment. The fabric draped over her one shoulder in an effortless wave, adding a bit of modernity to an otherwise conventional dress.

She made her way up the aisle, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Kurt found himself sniffling right alongside his father and was surprised to note that Finn was teary-eyed as he escorted his mother down the aisle.

They finally reached the altar and Finn handed his mother off to Burt before stepping into place behind her in a practiced motion, thanks to the rehearsal dinner last night.

Kurt dug into his pocket, searching for the handkerchief Sam had given him (read: that he'd stolen). He dabbed at his eyes gently, trying to focus on the heartwarming vows that his father and Carole were sure to exchange any moment.

The officiate grinned at them warmly before giving a speech on the value of family. Though they were all missing parts, they had formed a new family together, all the more special because they had chosen it.

He chanced a look over the crowd assembled, catching Sam's eyes instantly. The blond winked slowly and mouthed "I love you," to him, making him have use for his handkerchief again. Kurt would be lying if he said he wasn't imaging himself and Sam in this position in the not-too-distant future.

Finally, Burt took a deep breath and cleared his throat, rummaging in his pockets for the piece of stationary he'd written his vows on.

To keep himself from a shameful display of weeping he focused on the guests and attempted to block out their heartfelt words. He'd watch them on the DVD, where he could cry in the privacy of his own home.

His eyes lingered over Sam's family and his friends from New Directions. Rachel was beaming up at them with a wistful look on her face. Kurt had to stamp down a moment of panic, thinking that she was fixated on his new brother once more.

He nearly wilted in relief when he realized she was gazing up at Jesse, sitting a few rows in front of her. He knew his friend was desperate to be the future Mrs. Fill in the Blank, and had been with every person she dated.

Kurt knew he wanted to get married, but it wasn't his goal. He relished his relationship with Sam, and he knew that for him at least, he was the one. But he also knew they had time.

He thought of all the things he wanted to do with Sam before they were married; go on vacation together, move in with one another, go shopping for their home, adopt a pet together, celebrate promotions and graduations, and then yes, marriage, but there was just so much else!

He reluctantly tore his eyes away from those he knew and sought out Susan and her two children. He didn't know their names, and he had been so frightened when he saw them before the ceremony he hadn't even taken notice of their gender.

He eventually found her, an unnamable expression on her face. Kurt wanted to say it was regret, but it looked a touch to self-indulgent to be definitively so. He didn't doubt that she pitied herself, blaming her actions solely on her husband.

Kurt didn't care if he was resisting her out of sheer bloody-mindedness, but she wouldn't fool him with that act. She chose to abandon him; she chose to marry that bigoted prick. He wouldn't forgive her so easily.

He startled out of his reverie by a general change in the atmosphere. He focused back on the ceremony and noticed it was now time for the traditional vows before the big "I do,".

He reached into his jacket and patted the place where he knew the ring would be, Finn holding the other. Kurt handed the ring to his father when prompted and allowed a few more dignified tears to leak out. He chuckled when Finn had to be reminded and then the following panic and embarrassment the tall boy experience, providing the perfect tension reliever for an otherwise serious moment.

And then it was over.

Carole and Burt grabbed each other in a jubilant kiss and all but ran down the aisle and up the stairs to the veranda where cocktail hour would be held during the beautiful, rustic sunset.

Kurt found himself motionless, filled with emotion. He slowly descended from the raised platform the altar had been set on hovered behind the majority of the guests, content to wait while they slowly made their way to the happy couple.

He felt Sam's quiet presence come up beside him and smiled, wordlessly leaning back onto his broad chest. The blond pressed a kiss behind his ear and Kurt shivered, hoping to pass it off as the cold.

"It was beautiful," Sam murmured. "You did such a good job."

Kurt chuckled mirthlessly. "The night is still young," he replied.

The tanned teen nudged him with his shoulder. "Don't be such a Negative Nancy."

The slim boy chuckled and turned, wrapping his arms around Sam's waist. "You're right," he said. "I'm just…nervous."

"Because of them?" he asked, and Kurt didn't need to clarify who he was speaking about. He nodded wordlessly and sighed, burying his head in the crook of his neck.

"Let's not worry about," Kurt said abruptly. "I'm not going to let them ruin my father's wedding; for anyone."

Sam grinned at him proudly and looked around once more. "You really did do a good job," he said seriously. He worried his lip between his teeth and looked at Kurt shyly. "Think you have one more in you?"

Kurt smirked and leaned forward, resting his head on Sam's collarbone. "Don't get your hopes up," he said derisively.

He could feel the shock that went through Sam and gave a crocodile's grin before ending his misery. He looked up at the other boy with a glint in his eye. "I want a Spring wedding."

Sam's breath left him in a rush and he laughed weakly before eying him adoringly. "I'll keep that in mind."

Finis

That's all folks! Nearly a year in the making and more words and reviews than I ever imagined.

I understand that there are a few things that I have left unresolved, such as the reappearing family members and college; I did that on purpose. After all, I need something to talk about in the sequel!

I hope you have all enjoyed my little slice of Hevan!

Hugs and love,

E. Claire

P.S. If anyone is interested, this is the wedding cake (minus spaces): http:/ . com/wp-content/ uploads/HLIC/ 3a1636cf21074d7059205f329a51

And this is Carole's dress: http:/www. / images/20111124230