Perfectly Wrong

by LivAndLetDie

Chapter 2

This guy was exactly what Blaine needed. Not too bad looking—at least, he didn't appear to have any physical defects. The guy was probably as tall as Blaine was.

Okay, fine! The guy was probably as short as Blaine was.

From what he could see, he had brown hair and grey eyes. He was sickly pale, but since he was working with food, he must have a health card, right? Blaine was trying to make his parents dislike his fake boyfriend, but bringing in a corpse was a bit overboard even for him.

Blaine guessed that if the guy took a shower and wore something that wasn't an atrocious uniform, he could pass as someone he could be interested in. Maybe. Hopefully. If not, he could always claim that he was trying out that whole ''beauty is skin deep'' thing.

Blaine had found his obnoxious, fake boyfriend; that's already half the battle won. Now he just needed to ask this total stranger to come to his birthday party and get introduced to his family as his lovely boyfriend. He guessed that wasn't something one gets to hear every day.

"Perfect?" David exclaimed. Blaine was so deep in his thoughts he'd completely forgot about David and Wes being right there. "Blaine, what are you talking about?"

"Blaine?" Wes asked, waving his hand obnoxiously in front of his face. "Earth to Blaine. We don't detect any signs of life."

"That's the guy. He's my Mrs. Ramsbottom!" Blaine exclaimed excitedly. "Okay, weird choice of words, I admit, but you know what I mean. Hammer, or whatever that douche called him, is the perfectly wrong boyfriend that I need!"

"Pretty sure it was Hummel. And, that guy?" Wes asked in disbelief. "No way. I thought you might ask some guy from Dalton, someone you actually know. You don't even know if he's gay!"

"Oh, please! He's so flamingly gay he's practically starting an inferno. Trust me—I can just feel the gay rolling off him in waves."

"Right—he's just an ocean of gay rainbows, lube and man purses banging your shores."

"That actually sounded way more like a gay joke than you probably meant it," David commented.

"No, I said it the just the way I meant it," Wes replied, while Blaine, once again, left his friends, to walk towards the cash register, his eyes firmly trained on the still dripping barista, who was quietly cursing behind the counter.

"Hi!" Blaine said, putting on his Super-Charm smile that he usually saved only for very special and important occasions like getting into a hot guy's pants and charming his grandparents into thinking he's the perfect angel. Wasn't it weird that he could use the same smile for both of those things?

The barista clearly hadn't noticed the Dalton boys before. Blaine's cheerful hello made him jump, as if he was about to be attacked. Finally noticing Blaine standing in front of him, the pale boy glared at him. "And what do you want?"

"I'm Blaine."

"So?"

"Blaine Anderson," Blaine said again, outstretching his hand, waiting for a handshake. His parents raised him right—introducing himself was the polite thing to do and the guy didn't have a name tag, so it was only practical to learn the name of your future fake boyfriend, before you ask him to a very real family gathering as his fake date.

Hummel just looked at his hand for a second, then threw him another bitchy glare, turned around and started to clean the wall behind the cash register using a nearby towel. He really was the perfect guy to bring home to meet his parents—Blaine first saw him five minutes ago, and he already thought the other teen boy was bitchy and rude.

"Hey, that was the moment where people usually tell others their name!"

"You'll get over it."

"I'm still a paying customer, you know. You can't just ignore me."

The barista's head turned, wild brown wisps of hair falling haphazardly around his face and grey eyes met his hazel gaze. They studied him for a second before a heated glare was once again aimed at him. The guy wasn't as bad looking as he had initially assumed, Blaine thought. He'd do.

"Well, then order something, pay for it, and get out."

Blaine was just about to answer when an older man, in his forties if he had to make a guess, came out from the back room. He was dressed in the same atrocious uniform, stupid hat and all. The only visible difference was that he had a name tag, which said 'Marshall. Manager.' and a big, red badge with the words '15 years' proudly attached to his uniform shirt. Fifteen years? Who would want to work in a place like this for fifteen years? That was close to Blaine's whole lifetime! Even better question—who would work here for fifteen years and wear a badge to prove it? A disturbingly gleaming badge that looked like it was polished at least ten times a day?

And Blaine thought that Wes and his gavel were bad.

"What's with all the commotion? I heard it all the way back in my…," Hummel's manager started to say, but stopped once he saw the coffee splattered wall behind the cash register. After that his eyes traveled to the half drenched barista and then to Blaine and finally back to his employee. If his scowl was any indication, Hummel was probably in a lot of trouble. "What happened here?"

"I'm sorry, sir. It was a misunderstanding. It's not that bad, I'll clean it up right, Mr. Hatfield."

"As if there was a chance that you could just leave everything stained with coffee!" Marshall Hatfield was not a happy man, it almost looked like he had stopped breathing; his face was turning a fascinating shade of purple that was clashing horribly with his mustard yellow shirt. Blaine only hopped that the guy didn't faint from the lack of blood to his brains—he didn't want to be the one performing mouth-to-mouth. Suddenly he turned to Blaine, looking like he was ready for a kill. "Did you do it, boy?"

Blaine stared at the glaring eyes before laughing nervously and trying to run his fingers through his hair, forgetting that it wasn't possible because of the hair gel. "I would never do something like that. There was a guy, a big guy in a red letterman jacket. He was the one who threw the drink and then ran off. I was just asking your employee if he was alright." He took a step back; this weird manager guy was creeping him out for some reason.

"A guy just came in here and threw a drink at you for no good reason? For some reason, I'm not buying it."

If looks could kill, Hummel would be dead by now, Blaine was sure of that. What was 'Marshall's' problem? He said that he would clean it up.

"I…um…there might have been a disagreement, but it was not my fault. He was the one who came in here and practically assaulted me!"

"Kurt, I need to have a word with you," Mr. Hatfield told Kurt in a tone that clearly implied that they would not be having a pleasant chat about weather over hot cup of tea and cookies.

"Sir, there's a client here. I was just about to take his order, when you…," Kurt was hastily telling his boss. He was going to take his order? He sure fooled Blaine—he thought that he was about to poke his eyes out with one of those wooden coffee stirrers.

"Now, Kurt!" Kurt's manager said in a steel tone, which left no room for arguments.

Kurt obediently followed his manager to the door behind the counter, his eyes trained on the floor. Mr. Hatfield waited there to let Kurt pass through first, and once the boy was inside, he turned to Blaine with a big smile on his old, wrinkly face. "We will be right there with you to take your order, sir. Sunny Sun Café is here to put a smile on your face every day!" And with that, he shut the door.

…Creepy.

Blaine turned around to see where Wes and David had gone. The duo was still standing by the doors, observing everything that was happening, as if there was a play or a movie going on. Wes looked on the verge of falling asleep and David just gave Blaine the thumbs up. Again, why were they his best friends?

If he listened carefully, Blaine could hear Kurt and the creepy manager guy talking in the back room. He could hear creeper almost yelling in a raised voice. "She told me…gave a chance…I asked, if you will be able…fired…will be…never…unless you pay for the damage…"

After about a minute, Kurt came back, looking defeated. He stopped by the register, sighed, looked at Blaine and said in the most monotone voice he probably could muster, "Welcome to Sunny Sun Café, where we put a smile on your face every day. Today's special order is espresso made with tender loving care and just a smidge of magical cinnamon sprinkle just for $2.50."

"I want you to be my boyfriend."

Ok, maybe it was a little bit rushed, but honesty is almost always the best policy, except in cases when it's really not. Like fake relationships. A look of surprise quickly passed over Kurt's face, before it was back to the stoic mask. "Sorry for that; I don't provide those kinds of services. We also have freshly baked pies. There's nothing like an apple pie, baked from a grandmother's recipe. Just $1.00 for a slice."

"Could you stop reading a menu, please? You're being annoying." Perfectly annoying. "I'm single; my family thinks that I am dating someone. There's a family gathering and I need to bring my date and I want you to be that someone."

Kurt looked at him for a long time, grey eyes scanning him from head to toe, lingering on his Dalton Academy emblem and on his gelled hair until finally stopping on his face. Blaine tried his Super-Charm smile for the second time. "No way."

And Super-Charm smile was shot down again. Two times in one day—that had never happened to him. Did he have spinach in his teeth?

"Why not?" If the smile didn't work, then he'd have to bring out the big guns—Puppy Eyes of Doom engage!

"Seriously? A guy I've never met in my entire life just suddenly asks me to be his boyfriend and meet his parents. Do I need to list reasons why not? Honestly, have you been dropped on your head?"

"You don't really have to date me, it will be an act."

"No. Are you going to order something or not?" He sounded really annoyed now. That man's made of steel—he's Puppy Eyes resistant.

"I'll pay you."

That was not a part of his original plan, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Blaine could already picture him insulting his mom's curtains, being obnoxiously loud and throwing Mrs. Ramsbottom from her first place pedestal in 'The bitchiest of them all Olympics'. If he had to spend some money to see that, he would. It would be worth it.

He could see that Kurt was thinking about his proposal. "How much?"

"How much do you want?"

"I want…okay, here's the deal. I have to pay for the ruined wallpaper and floor—if you pay for that, then I will do this thing."

"Deal."

Kurt looked shocked at how easily he accepted. "Deal? That's it, just like that? I don't even know how much that could cost."

"It doesn't matter; I'll pay for it." Blaine gave Kurt what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Sometimes it was good to be rich. And by sometimes he meant always. "Just give me your phone number and I'll give you mine. The party is this Saturday; I will send you my address. You should give me your e-mail address too, so I can send you our cover story. And you can just send me the check and I'll take care of it."

"Just like that?" Kurt still looked like he didn't believe him.

"Just like that."

"Okay, but just so you know, I'm agreeing to be your fake boyfriend for that one party and that's it. Try anything funny and you will never be able to be a sperm donor. Are we clear?"

"Crystal."

Beta read by amazing MonkeyMojo.

I had pneumoniann- not fun. Tell me, if this thing makes no sense at all; I'm kinda loopy from medication.

Next chapter - The start of party and Kurt meets Blaine's parents. I will update sooner now that I'm not in hospital anymore.

34 reviews for the first chapter? You guys are awesome!

Reviews are like my favorite type of antibiotics - makes me happy, healthy and makes it seem like the room is spinning. Weeee!