A/N- This is my next multi chapter fic. I'm aiming to update 2-3 times a week, but I don't want to promise a schedule and not be able to stick to it. If I can update quicker then I will. This is AU, and a more mature Klaine. Past events remain such as their attending Dalton and McKinley together- it will become clear. WARNING- This story WILL CONTAIN THE FOLLOWING- BOTTOM!BLAINE, Bottom!Kurt, mentions of other pairings (no smut there though.) Don't go leaving me anon hate because you think me putting Blaine on the bottom makes him less of a man, the more you moan the more he stays there. With all that said, I am still eagerly anticipating my usual anon reviewer who hates my stories so much she just can't stay away. (Sorry, I'm not dead yet.) Hope you all enjoy! Love you all muchly- even you. ;)

"You ready son?" Burt Hummel asks, clapping him on the shoulder.

Letting out a shaky breath, Kurt turns from the mirror to face his dad. He looks paler than ever, and wrings his hands nervously as he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet. "I guess so." He walks towards the door, and taking another deep breath- it feels as if his lungs are trying but failing to hold any air- pulls it open.

"Kurt." He turns slowly to see his dad, standing there looking so uncomfortable in his tux but worried too.

Afraid.

As if there are a million and one things he wants to say but can't, won't, or doesn't know how. "Y'know...you don't have to do this."

"Are you kidding me?" Kurt snaps, because really, he doesn't need this right now, doesn't need anyone watering that seed of doubt, nurturing it and helping it to grow. "This is my wedding day. The day I've been waiting for since I was three. Over a hundred and fifty guests are down there, waiting for me to appear. I've spent nearly fifty thousand dollars on the whole fucking thing, and you're standing there, telling me I don't have to do this?" Kurt can hear his voice, loud and shrill in his ears as his sweaty palm slips slightly on the door handle.

"I just...want you to be sure." Burt says calmly. "You know Kurt, weddings are stressful. I get it. But the way you've been these last few months...You would tell me, wouldn't you? If there was something wrong? If you were unhappy?"

Kurt's silence is mutinous as he stares at the floor.

"Or Blaine? You'd tell Blaine, right?" Burt tries, but Kurt's walls are up, and he looks his dad in the eye with a piercing blue stare.

"Can we just get going please?" He asks coldly, then strides from the room without waiting for an answer.

Burt hurries after him and they ride the elevator down to the ceremony in silence, a tense, uncomfortable silence which neither knows how to break. The doors open and Blaine stands before them. Looking ever the gentleman in his elegant tuxedo, hair gelled down neatly, Kurt smiles warmly at him- then notices the look on his face.

"What is it?" Kurt asks, the panic creeping into his voice as he tries to look past Blaine's shoulder.

"Kurt...I think we should go up to your room. Talk in private."

"I don't want to talk in private." Kurt says, and makes to walk past but Blaine grips his arms tightly, turning him so he can't see.

"Kurt please. Not here. Lets go upstairs."

"Tell me Blaine, tell me whatever it is you've got to say. Just tell me here, right now. I'm a grown man for fucks sake, I can handle it." Kurt is rambling, words tripping over one another as they fly from his mouth. He feels his dad place a firm hand on his shoulder, but it is meaningless as his mind races with different possibilities.

"He's not coming, Kurt. I'm so sorry."

"What?"

"Ian. He's not...um...his brother came and just said he's not coming. He doesn't want to go through with it. I...shit Kurt...I'm so sorry."

Covering his mouth with a trembling hand, Kurt leans heavily against the wall and stares into the distance as Burt looks to Blaine.

"When did this happen?"

"Right now. His brother just left, I was on my way up to tell you."

"Ignorant little bastard." Burt fumes, hands balling into fists. "And he thinks that's okay? It's okay to do this to my son? To have him spend eight months planning a huge wedding, inviting all their family and friends to just run out on him?"

"Burt, please. Your heart."

"Fuck my heart, what about his?" Burt asks as he looks to Kurt who has now slid down the wall to sit on the floor. "He just sends his brother to tell the best man that the wedding's off? Who does that?"

"Look, I think we need to act here. Get Kurt back up to his room, and I'll go and um...well...tell the guests to go home I suppose. I'll ask Finn to talk to the hotel staff."

"No." Kurt's voice comes, shaky yet determined as he hauls himself to his feet. "Don't tell them it's off. It's probably just some sort of mistake. He probably stayed out too late drinking or something...yes. That's it. I expect he's hungover. Blaine, you didn't listen properly to Paul. He was probably trying to tell you they'd be late."

"Kurt. Please, listen to me. It wasn't that. He's not coming." Blaine says gently, as he reaches for him.

"Yes he is!" Kurt screams, face contorted and twisted in rage as he yells in his best friend's face. "He is! You just didn't listen. I'll go upstairs and call him now. Then you'll see. You'll realize that you're the one being a dumb idiot here!" Turning on his heel he flees to the staircase, taking them two at a time until he arrives back in his room, breathless and panting.

"What should I do?" Blaine asks Burt with wide eyes. "There's a whole room full of people who were expecting a wedding to start ten minutes ago and currently all they've got is my brother entertaining them with sexually explicit songs on the piano."

"Just...go and say there's a delay. Then bring Carole up to the room." Burt grasps Blaine's shoulder and leaves swiftly, hoping against hope that he can somehow make all this better as he heads upstairs to find Kurt.

"...And that's why women have vagina's!" Cooper Anderson finishes with a flourish, then bows as a smattering of applause comes from the astounded guests.

"Uh...thank you Cooper." Blaine says as he steps onto the small raised platform in the center of the room. "Ladies and Gentlemen, there's just going to be short delay I'm afraid...um...a few last minute nerves and all that. Things will get underway shortly." He smiles politely at the guests as the buzz of gossip begins. Taking Carole by the arm, he beckons to Finn to join them as he steers her from the room.

"Finn, can you go and tell the staff that there's been a hold up. Give me ten minutes and I should be able to tell them more." Blaine says as he hurries towards the elevator. "Carole, come with me."

"Is Kurt okay?" Finn asks with concern.

"Yeah...well...sort of. Paul turned up and told me Ian's bailed."

"What?!" Carole and Finn shriek together.

"I know. So Kurt is upstairs in complete denial. I don't even know what to think."

"Okay. You go up to him, I'll go talk to the manager."

"Do you think he's really stood Kurt up?" Carole asks as the elevator doors close.

"Honestly? Yes. But I don't know if Kurt will believe me."

Blaine knocks hesitantly on the door and Burt opens it to reveal Kurt pacing back and forth in front of the tall windows, phone pressed to his ear. "Ian, honey, just call me. Please. I don't know if it's just that you're running late, or you're nervous or what...but...just call me. Please."

"That's like the tenth voicemail he's left." Burt says, trying to be quiet but Blaine can tell from the glare Kurt shoots them that he wasn't. They watch as Kurt redials, letting out a yell of frustration as he throws his phone onto the bed.

"He's turned it off!" Kurt yells. "He's turned his voicemail off. Now what the fuck am I supposed to do?" he asks, raking his fingers through his hair as he stares down at Central Park spread below him like a map."Twitter. Maybe he's..."

"Kurt. Stop." Blaine's voice comes strong and firm from the doorway. He approaches Kurt cautiously, as if one might approach a wounded wild animal, which is exactly what Kurt is at this moment in time. "Come sit with me a while, we can talk this through."

"No!" Kurt says, picking up his iPad and pulling up twitter. "He's out there, somewhere. He'll be playing some stupid prank, I'm sure. He...he..."

"Please Kurt, don't tweet him. Don't put anything out there. Once it's on the internet there's no taking it back."

"What do you want me to do then?" Kurt cries desperately, "Nothing? Just sit and wait? No. I can't."

"Kurt, honey... I'm afraid I don't think he's coming." Carole says softly into the tense room.

"And you know this...how?" Kurt asks, drawing himself up to his full height and walking towards her. "Are you a mind reader now Carole?" he spits bitterly, "Do you suddenly have some deep, meaningful insight into my relationship with my fiance that nobody else has? Did he come to you and confess all, and you just thought it would be amusing to have me sweat it out like this? Huh?"

"No, Kurt...you know that...I just..." she stutters.

"You just know nothing. Now shut the fuck up and let me worry about where the hell Ian is and why he won't answer any of my calls."

Burt walks over to them and puts his arm around his wife. "Kurt, buddy, I love you. We all do. But you need to look at the facts here son. Paul spoke with Blaine and said Ian doesn't want to go through with it. I think...I think Carole and I will go downstairs and tell everyone to go home," he says sadly. "Stay here with Blaine."

The door shuts and Blaine swallows over the bundle of nerves that has risen like bile inside his throat. Kurt stays motionless, staring out at the Manhattan skyline.

"Can I get you anything?" Blaine asks quietly, "A drink? Some water?"

"Whiskey." Kurt says without turning.

"Are you..."

"Whiskey."

"Right." Blaine moves to the minibar and retrieves two small bottles. Pouring them into glasses, he hesitates a moment before handing one to Kurt silently.

Kurt knocks it back, grimacing as the liquor burns his throat. He regards the empty glass for a second, then turns and hands it back to Blaine, taking the other one and knocking that back too. Blaine says nothing, just sets the glasses down on a small table and rocks slightly on his heels.

"Are you lying to me?" Kurt asks suddenly into the silence, causing Blaine's head to swivel sharply towards him.

"What?"

"About Ian. For whatever reason, are you lying?"

"No! Kurt, I would never, ever lie to you. Not about this." Missing the meaning behind those words, Kurt turns to face Blaine for the first time since they've been left alone.

"Do you think he's at home?"

"Kurt...I don't know. I don't know where he is. I only know that for whatever reason, he's not showing up today. But you know...maybe...if you give him time...the wedding might not happen on this day, but it doesn't mean it won't happen at all."

There are so many things he could add here. But he can't. Not now. Not ever, Blaine realizes with a heavy heart as he swallows that lump that just won't go away and tries to comfort his friend as best he can.

"Will you come with me?" Kurt says, a determined fire in his eyes which Blaine finds himself trying to shy away from.

"Where?"

"To my apartment."

"Your dad told us to stay here." Blaine blurts, knowing Kurt will pour scorn on him as soon as the words have left his mouth.

"Blaine. We're not seven. We're twenty eight years old. I can do whatever I damn well please, and what I want to do is go home. I'm asking you, as my best friend, to come with me. Whether you want to support me, or let me down as everyone else seems want to do, is your choice."

Blaine nods wordlessly and picks up his tux jacket. Kurt is already at the door, walking quickly down the corridor with a quick glance over his shoulder as if scared of getting caught. He pushes his way through the crowded lobby, past the concerned yet prying faces of wedding guests being ushered towards the exit, and out onto the street. Squinting in the bright summer sunshine, he checks to see Blaine is still with him before hailing a cab and jumping in. Giving his address to the driver, he slides down in the seat just as he spies a heavily pregnant Rachel waddling towards him.

"Not now," he mutters, "Please, not now."

The cab pulls away and Blaine looks back to see Rachel standing flabbergasted as the traffic mills around her. "S'okay." Blaine says to him, "She's too fat to catch us properly."

"She's pregnant Blaine, she's not fat."

"Whatever."

"God you're clueless. It's no wonder..."

"What?" Blaine snaps, his patience having finally worn thin. "It's no wonder what, Kurt?"

"Forget it." comes the dismissive reply as Kurt turns to stare out the window.

They are silent the rest of the journey. Kurt wills himself not to be so unkind to Blaine. He knows it's pointless lashing out and hurting the ones closest to you just because you yourself are hurting. But he also know he's been behaving that way for years, covering up a multitude of hopes and desires, fears and failings by being snarky and aloof. Downright unapproachable really, but he's not sure he knows how to change.

Blaine, for his part, always stays. He could up and walk away as so many have done over the years, but he knows he never will. He wonders briefly if Rachel would have stuck around had it not been for her marriage to Finn. Maybe. He can see the same drive and determination in both of them, but Rachel had hers softened by the influence of love. Kurt just seemed to harden. The more he grew, the colder he became. And now, this steely, ruthless determined individual is about to experience what life feels like when you aren't in control.

The cab pulls to a halt and Kurt walks straight into his building, ignoring the doorman, leaving Blaine to pay the fare and nod politely at George as he hurries into the elevator. "Why do you always ignore him?" Blaine asks when the doors close.

"Who?"

"George."

"Who's George?"

"Never mind." Blaine says exasperatedly as he trails Kurt to his door.

He unlocks and they step inside. There's no denying the apartment is beautiful. Kurt's reputation as one of New York's most sought after Interior Designers is evident here. His income, combined with Ian's stockbroker salary had afforded them a swank, luxury apartment on the Upper East side. Tall windows let light stream in, making the parquet floors shine. The muted tones of the large living area, the soft grays and blues give it a welcoming feel and contrast well with the masculine black and steel of the kitchen and Blaine finds himself, as always, marveling at the show home quality it possesses, as if Hello magazine could start a photo shoot at any time. Large paintings that Kurt and Ian have acquired on their many trips abroad adorn the walls, along with family photos- Burt and Carole and Finn and Rachel on their wedding days and pictures of others that Blaine assumes are Ian's relatives. Despite him having been with his best friend for five years, Blaine still feels like he doesn't really know Ian at all. On the face of it, you would assume they'd actually have more in common that him and Kurt. Both like Football and Hockey, both came from the same wealthy background and enjoyed the same privileged upbringing, and both indulge Kurt and his diva-esque ways. Yet Blaine always feels some hesitance, a reluctance on Ian's part to fully engage with him. A reticence which leaves Blaine wondering if maybe Kurt- the biggest thing they have in common- is also the thing keeping them apart.

"He's not here." Kurt says tonelessly.

"No." Blaine waits, unsure whether to sit as Kurt roams the apartment or follow him. He's been here many times before, but apart from a tour when they first moved in, Blaine has never been in the bedroom. Any of the bedrooms for that matter. But still, he tags along as Kurt looks into the large dining room, then opens the door to one of the guest rooms to find nothing amiss there either. He walks straight down the hall to the master suite, pushing open the double doors then stopping in surprise.

Nothing. Everything is exactly as he had left it when he had departed for the hotel yesterday afternoon. He had expected something, some kind of disturbance, something to have been moved or changed to signal that Ian had been here this morning...but nothing.

"You okay?" Blaine says softly from the doorway.

"Yeah. He's not been here I don't think. Nothing's moved."

"Did he stay at the hotel last night?"

"No. He stayed with his brother. He left yesterday lunchtime, and I don't think he's been back since. So that means he's got to come back sometime, right?" Kurt asks hopefully.

"I guess..."

"It does. He only took a small overnight bag and his tux. So if I just sit tight he'll be back soon enough and then we can talk. Oh Blaine, you've no idea how relieved I am" Kurt's face breaks into a wide grin as he falls back onto a chaise longue.

"Um...why?" Blaine asks, seemingly still stuck in the doorway and unwilling to step further into the room.

"Because I can make him change his mind!" Kurt says, looking at Blaine as if he's the deluded one. "He'll realize how silly he's being over all this and reconsider."

"Back at the hotel you were convinced he was drunk somewhere, or playing a prank. Now you seem to have dismissed that idea and can actually acknowledge that he was contemplating not going through with it. That's good. That's what I call progress. But thinking you can change his mind? No, Kurt. You're setting yourself up for major heartache- even more than you've had already. Talk to him, yes, but don't go in expecting this crisis to be resolved overnight, because it won't be. You need to talk things out, to work through whatever issues he's having and resolve them before you assume it's all okay again."

"And clearly I should listen to you because all your relationships have been so successful," Kurt sneers and Blaine reels backwards, stung by the venom behind the words. "Now do me a favor and call the Wedding Planner at the Four Seasons. Ask if they've got any slots available next week, tell them I'll pay double if necessary."

"Kurt...you're insane."

"Yes, yes. Thank you for your valuable insight, now go call them." Kurt says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Fuck off. Call them yourself. I'm supposed to be your friend Kurt, not your PA." Blaine says, and finally the hurt in his voice causes Kurt to sit upright and look at him.

"What's with you?"

"What's with me, Kurt? What's with me?! I get that you're hurting, I do. I know you well enough by now to know that you're petrified but don't take all your insecurities on me. I am trying to help you. You have to realize that you're setting yourself up..."

"For a big fall, I know!" Kurt yells at him, getting to his feet as his desperation and anger build. "But I have to try Blaine! I have to because if I don't then I'll always be alone, and I can't stand being alone with someone I hate so much!"

"You wouldn't be alone," Blaine says kindly, finally stepping into the room and moving to stand in front of Kurt. "People like you don't get left on the shelf, Kurt. You are wonderful. You're smart, funny, talented and utterly beautiful..." he trails off, staring at the floor and unable to say any more.

"You don't mean that." Kurt whispers, and Blaine looks up to see those blue eyes shining with unshed tears.

"I do." he whispers back, a sad smile playing on his lips. Kurt falls into his arms, stifling a sob as he pushes his face into Blaine's strong shoulder. Tentatively, Blaine's arms come around him and hold him tight as he bites back tears of his own.

"His cologne." Kurt says over Blaine's shoulder.

"Huh?"

"His cologne has gone." Kurt repeats, pulling out of Blaine's embrace and heading to the dressing table. "He left it here yesterday...I remember seeing it and thinking I should take it to the hotel but I forgot..I..." Kurt stills, his fingers tracing over the other items. Most had been packed in their cases for honeymoon, the few things left were of little or no importance, yet Ian had come back to fetch his cologne. "Why just that?" Kurt says, his voice almost inaudible to Blaine. "Why come back for just that? Unless..." And pulling open the top drawer of the dressing table, he finds his answer. Empty.

He moves to the large chest of drawers, pulling open the ones that usually contain Ian's belongings. All empty. Running through to the dressing area, he pulls open doors and frantically searches...but all of his things have gone. Kurt can feel the tears pricking his eyes, and his heart has plummeted to the depths of his soul, but he carries on searching. The bathroom, the office, the guest room closet with boxes containing items from his childhood- all devoid of Ian's belongings. The apartment holds no trace of him, it's almost as if he never lived there at all. All that remains are the few pictures on the walls...other than that it's all Kurt's things.

Standing aimlessly in the middle of the living room, Kurt hears Blaine softly approach and turns to him. "He's left me."

Blaine nods, his mind racing and anger building. He wants to hurt Ian for doing this to Kurt. Hurt him badly. Instead, he holds his hands out to Kurt, who walks slowly towards him. "Why would he do this Blaine?" Kurt asks, his voice gone small. "Why didn't he tell me? If he wanted to end things, if he wanted to leave, why didn't he say before our wedding day arrived?" He clutches at Blaine's hands, eyes wide and childlike as he stares. "Am I that bad? Am I that horrible that he would want to humiliate me like that in front of my family and friends?"

"No you're not...Oh Kurt." Blaine pulls him against his chest as great heaving sobs start to tear through Kurt's body. Holds him tight and soothes, reassures and comforts- because that's what Blaine does.