Warning: This story contain's scenes of homosexuality, violence, course language so please read with caution.

Disclaimer: I don't own glee

My Big Fat Gay Italian Wedding

Everything was wrong.

Kurt stared around the room in absolute horror as his soon to be husband's great grandmother Catherina Botticelli-Anderson began to hang various assortments of teal fabric in his face, while pairing it with sky blue, trying to convince him that those colors would look amazing together. Pulling his hair in frustration he nearly growled at the old lady for even thinking of bringing that atrocity out in public. Six other relatives had joined them at the Chapel, where they were discussing seating arrangements, flowers and of course food. Gritting his teeth together Kurt reminded himself repeatedly that these people were going to be his family soon so he should value what they have to say, however there were some things that he just couldn't stomach. For instance, flying doves at the ceremony, neglecting the cost and all the other outrageous expenses, there was no way he was chancing having to duck from Bird poop as he walked down the aisle.

Exhaling deeply he didn't even want to think about how much it was cost to rent the Chapel, the banquet hall, the flowers and catering. It gave him a headache just thinking about it. He knew his father couldn't afford any of the expenses and that he was relying solely on Blaine for income and resources. A part of him hated being so dependent but Blaine made the most money between the two of them, since he was only a waiter on the East side at a small restaurant. Although he insisted on paying the bills of the apartment they shared together, sometimes he couldn't help but feel inadequate.

The sweet old lady in front of him, smile knowingly before lowering the fabric. She was the kindest women he's ever had the pleasure of knowing. Catherina was still beautiful, hair tousled with thick black curls and smoldering green to match, she was a fierce and fiery creature who adored him. They sat at a long table with Kurt at the head and she at his right side while the rest of the Aunties and relatives squawked beside them.

"Il mio bravo ragazzo—Kurt," She said, suddenly impatient. "What is it that you want?" Her accent was thick and at times hard to understand.

"Not that," Kurt snarled pointing viciously at the piece of fabric.

"We've been through five already," She replied. "How about the red? That would look great with the top hats—"

"No top hats!" Kurt snapped. "I don't want my wedding to be some kind of comic relief. I just want something…Simple, nothing too over the top."

"But Kurt," Sofia cut in. "All the grooms men thought it was a good idea to have top hats and Blaine said so too,"

Kurt glared at her and if she wasn't Blaine's mother he would have said something regrettable.

"No, Wes and David said it was a joke," Kurt said. "There is no way I am having top hats, no matter how tasteful they seem at my wedding."

The women around him sighed and he knew he was being difficult but the colors were too pink, too gay and the flowers were all wrong. He wasn't a woman, he was a man and he wanted things to be slightly more masculine. Rubbing his temple for the tenth time that day he decided to call a break and so that he could go and find Blaine. As he walked through the halls of the church he vaguely started to wonder if this whole idea was a mistake. If he was just way too young to be tying the knot so quickly.

It was six months until the wedding.

Then he'd be Kurt Hummel Botticelli-Anderson.

Yeah, try saying that ten times fast.

Cursing under his breath he stormed off towards the kitchen to find said husband who was no doubt charming the pants off the Chef. Over the past month in a half Kurt had been hanging on by a thread. This wedding was supposed to be his day, not eight of Blaine's aunts and relatives. They had been interfering with his plans, decoration ideas, family traditions and all because the wedding wasn't Italian enough for them. They wanted Chiedere la mano—Blaine to ask his father's permission for marriage, a diamond ring which was now welded uncomfortably to his ring finger and all the other crazy rituals that he couldn't understand. Since Blaine's proposal they had been bombarding him with ideas, thoughts on how the wedding should go and since they were family he didn't have the heart to turn them down, but now he was pissed. When he reached the kitchen, his eyes were blazing when he saw Blaine—handsome as ever—speaking seductively to the Chef in his native tongue. Dressed in a crisp black suit, with matching slacks, the top button of his white shirt was open, hair tousled but styled nicely with gel; he just oozed sex appeal.

"Hmm," He hummed, in agreement responding to the Chef had said. "Tortellini con prosciutto liscia topping, con il formaggio avrà un sapore aboslutely divina—"

"Blaine," Kurt said crossly interrupting him. "I need to speak with you in private,"

"Il mio amore—Just give me one second, we are discussing the menu—"

"Now Blaine," Kurt snapped boorishly, he turned and walked out of there towards an empty room. As he paced the room impatiently he could hear Blaine apologize profusely before joining.

"Kurt what is it? You know we only have limited time to discuss what we want—"

"Exactly!" Kurt said throwing his hands up in frustration. "We only have limited time because this whole thing is rushed."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your family is driving me crazy." Kurt snarled running hands through his hair. "Everything is wrong! Nothing is right, the colors are all messed up and Tuxedos with the tails for our wedding day, seriously!? You guys are going to look like penguins! I hate it! I hate it!" He felt himself becoming flustered as tears formed in his eyes before spilling over.

"Shhhh, calm down," Blaine cooed, taking his hands. "You love me don't you?"

Kurt nodded.

"Then you'll marry me in a potato sack,"

Kurt wrinkled his nose causing Blaine to laugh.

"I want everything to be prefect," Kurt said brushing tears away. "I love that they are so involved but I need to do things my way,"

"Come here," Blaine said pulling him into a tight embrace. "Il mio bel ragazzo—I will talk to them. I don't like that they've upset you."

Kurt smiled weakly. "It's not their fault. I'm just being overly sensitive that's all. You know me, classic Diva."

"My Diva," Blaine said kissing him firmly on the mouth. Sighing into the kiss Kurt placed his arms around his lovers neck, enjoying the feeling of hard muscles pressed against his. What was meant to be a comforting kiss soon turned heated as Kurt found himself being backed into the nearest wall while Blaine attacked his lips. Moaning softly he arched his hips, as the warmth of Blaine's roaming hands seeped through his clothing. When Blaine smacked his ass he yelped, his eyes shot open and he stared down at his lover.

"The things I will do to you tonight….However, we've got a wedding to plan sweetie," Blaine said pulling away.

Kurt was uncomfortably hard in his jeans and he knew that his lover did that on purpose. "You'll pay for that Anderson,"

Blaine licked his pink lips. "I hope so,"

With lust filled eyes they gazed at each other until Blaine's ringing phone broke their trance.

"Dammit," Blaine cursed staring at the screen. "It's work. I'll probably have to go in,"

"Now?" Kurt sputtered indigently. "You can't just go I need you here, I can't do this alone!"

"I know—ti prego perdonami—I'll be back as soon as I can, I promise," Blaine replied, he abruptly grabbed his hand and kissed his knuckles affectionately. "Make sure to keep things hard and waiting for me," He teased.

Kurt ripped his hand away and shoved him playfully. "Just get out of here,"

"Fine," Blaine smirked. "I love you,"

"Love you too," Kurt called as he left the room.

Smiling to himself he wiped the residual tears from of face and pushed that nagging feeling in his gut down. It wasn't that he didn't trust Blaine, because he did—totally and completely it was just that sometimes he got the feeling that his lover wasn't being completely honest with him. He never did understand the secrecy between all of the men that worked for Blaine, or why he was never allowed to actually visit him at work. Shrugging it off he tried to occupy his thoughts on more important things.

Like his big fat gay Italian Wedding.

A/N: Hey ya'll this is just the prologue but this story will be plenty dark with lots of fluffy moments. Kurt doesn't know Blaine is in the mafia so what will happen when he finds out? Let me know what you think!