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
"What do you want?" Kurt asked, hip gutted out and his face twisted in annoyance as he cleaned off the counter tops. It was after midnight and he was just about to close up when the door dinged and in waltz the two most irritating people that ever existed. Wes and David smiled mischievously at each other before grabbing a seat at a table. At Blaine's request they were both dressed impeccably, black blazers with matching slacks and crisp dress shirts. At times like these Kurt often wonder what the hell they did to have to be dressed like that twenty four seven, in fact he can't even recall a time he's seen them in regular clothing.
If they even owned any.
Despite the fact that he knew little about their job description he did know that they were Blaine's most trusted colleges and he hardly let Kurt go anywhere without them. Their roguish behavior agitated him but he did enjoy their company and they had developed a friendship over the years.
"Is that anyway to treat your customers?" Wes asked, pouting slightly.
"Yeah, Kurt, our money is as green as anyone else's," David said.
Muttering something inaudible under his breath he rolled his eyes. "Are you here to check up on me?"
"No," They both replied in union quickly—too quickly.
"I don't understand why Blaine feels the need to coddle me—"
"You know what he's like," Wes said. "He doesn't like you walking home alone at this time of night."
"I've walked home a million times and nothing has happened to me," Kurt said. "Would you please inform my fiancé that I am capable of taking the few necessary steps to our Condo?"
Once he was done polishing off the counter he made himself busy by restocking the napkin holders and counting the money in the cash box. This little diner had become his sanctuary over the years, when he wasn't accepted into NYADA and his dreams were crushed he got this job by chance and instantly fell in love with his co-workers. The Harris's a where lovely sweet old married couple in desperate need of a waiter to stop their family business from going under. Of course Kurt took the job with much enthusiasm, learned the ropes and began working full time. With his help they started to attract a new and younger crowd.
"I work for him, remember?" Wes said, smiling playfully. "And I doubt he'd listen to me anyway,"
He wasn't going to argue with him on that one because it was true. Grabbing his coat from the office he shut off all the lights and let Wes and David walk out ahead of him so that he could lock the door. The temperature had dropped so he hugged his coat tighter to his chest as they made their way towards his apartment building, which happened to be down the street.
"Wow, thanks again guys for saving me from this exhilarating night. I don't know how I made it here with you," Kurt said sarcastically.
"Just following orders man," David shrugged. "You can hate us all you like,"
"Oh, believe me I will be having words with Blaine when I get home," he mumbled.
"He's not there," Wes replied.
"What?" he asked.
"Got called in tonight but he gives his sincerest apologies," Wes said when they reach the door to his apartment building.
Kurt was tired.
He worked all day, standing on his feet and taking orders from various customers who either barked at him or were just plain rude. What he looked forward to at the end of the day was to cuddle up in bed with his fiancé. Tonight they were supposed to go over what kind of cake they wanted so that they could tell the Cater together in the morning.
This was starting to become a problem.
Blaine always leaving and never around when he needed him.
It was infuriating and he refused to come second to Blaine's job.
"Tell Blaine to go fuck himself with his apologies," He snarled before storming away angrily. Throwing the door open he thundered his way to the elevator before riding it to the twelfth floor. Once he got inside he tossed his coat on the lavish couch and went to the kitchen to pour himself a drink.
The whole condo was ostentatious.
It screamed upper class living and sophistication that had once marvelled him but now he felt trapped—constricted in this huge domain. Everything was beautiful, the furniture imported from Italy, various paintings from Venice and Rome all collected from Blaine's profligate travels overseas. The walls were splashed with beige and the kitchen counter was embodied with marble, along with the tables and chairs hand crafted from mahogany.
It was extravagant, lush, excessive and worst of all lonely.
Without Blaine this place seemed emptier.
Bitterly he stripped of his clothes wondering what the hell happened to their life. Ever since the wedding Blaine had become withdrawn, choosing to spend more time at work then at their bed, it was a rare night to have his fiancé home with him. It was bad enough he was kept in the dark about the nature of Blaine's work.
Sighing he went into the bedroom and got himself ready for bed. Switching on the fireplace he dressed in his night clothing and fell asleep curled up with a good book.
iIi
"So," A deep voice vibrated in his ear. "I was told to forcefully insert my apologies?"
Rubbing his eyes sleepily he rolled over to see his fiancé still fully dressed hovering on top of him in bed. Blaine's curls were become loose from confides of the gel and his silk purple dress shirt was wrinkled. It was that infuriating smile, dashingly charming voice that made him angrier.
"Where have you been?" Kurt said, struggling to sit up. "I told you we have to go over cakes today and—"
"Babe, I have work you know that," Blaine said tiredly, he stroked his arm languidly momentarily distracting him from his thoughts.
"This is important," he growled.
"I'm here now," Blaine said jumping out of bed. "Just let me shower and change, then we'll talk about it," He disappeared in the bathroom and turned on the shower before Kurt could respond.
Glancing over at the clock he saw that it was after two and they had to wake up early tomorrow to meet with the Cater. Sighing he took out his scrap book that had various clippings of newspaper weddings, articles and magazines covers, all the things Kurt's ever dreamed of. Hastily he flipped to the pages it had on wedding cakes, snatched his planner from the night table and began marking which cakes he liked the best. Compiling a reasonable list he was satisfied with he heard the shower shut off and Blaine came out in just his sleep pants.
"Okay, sweetie—va bene tesoro," Blaine said as he crawled on the bed. "You have my undivided attention,"
"This is what I want," Kurt said pointing to the most immoderate cake. It was pure white, layered with silver beads wrapping casually around each mound making it look grand, it also had various red bow placed on different sides. It was simple and cheap but it wasn't his dream cake.
"Then you shall have it," Blaine replied instantly.
"Blaine," Kurt chastised glaring at him. "You can't just say that you have too…." He made the mistake of looking down and seeing the define ripple of his chest flex in the dime light, the slight subtle of hair that caressed Blaine's God like body making him desperately want to run his fingers through it. Clearing his throat he made himself concentrate on forming words. "Do you like it?"
"I like whatever you like," Blaine said shortly.
"Blaine," He whined. "Please this is very important,"
"Alright, alright—dolce ragazzo," Blaine moved closer towards him and kissed his cheek. "I like this one over here," He said pointing to another sumptuous cake that was also white but this time covered with red roses.
"That one is a little pricey," Kurt commented but he did really love the roses. "It's beautiful,"
"You're beautiful," Blaine said stealing another kiss, this time on the lips. "Are we in agreement then?"
Kurt thought about it for a moment.
"You know I won't deny you anything," Blaine said nudging his shoulder. "I want you to have everything for your big day and I know you want that cake,"
"How do you know—"
"Because you have it circled three times with the letters 'dream cake' above it," He chuckled.
Kurt laughed. "But it's too expensive—"
"Anything for you,"
Smiling proudly he pressed his lips to Blaine's. "Thank you,"
"Come here," Blaine said dipping his hand between he covers he cupped Kurt's cock, casually sliding his hand up and down.
"No, Blaine," he said weakly pushing him away.
"Why?" Blaine smirked, leaning towards him he let his tongue gaze the side of his ear. "You want me sweetie,"
"I'm tired," Kurt said jerking his face away. "And we have to wake up early tomorrow,"
Rolling his eyes Blaine sighed before getting under the covers. Kurt moved to copy his movements, laying his head on his fiancé's chest he found himself dozing off lulled by the deep sounds of his lover's breathing and the love intoxicating the air.
iIi
"Non capisco—hmm, how you say—I don't understand you American's," Catherina said loudly at the dinner table.
It was their annual Sunday night dinner at the Botticelli- Anderson's house where everyone gathered around for some good food and even better bountiful wine, telling stories and basking in the abundance of family. Kurt often looked forward to these nights, where he could kick back, relax and enjoy the company of the people he loved the most and who treated him like their long lost sun.
On this particular Sunday the Botticelli- Anderson's were all seated around the table, indulging in classic dinner of pasta and meatballs with a large loaf of bread and vinaigrette as dipping sauce. They ate, talked and laughed reclining in the homey atmosphere. Of course the topic of tonight's conversations naturally steered towards the wedding.
"What's not to understand?" Blaine asked. "American's like things simple and their weddings are pretty much the same as ours only with slight differences,"
"Nonna," Cooper cut in. "Its tradition to have a bachelors party before the wedding,"
"When I was little growing up on a vineyard there was no such thing," Catherina said. "We had a marriage and that was it I didn't even see Luciano until our wedding day,"
"Well, Blainey boy does need a night to see all the men he'll be missing out on," Cooper said winking at them.
"As if I need anyone else," Blaine said threading his fingers through Kurt's.
"I hope you know what you are getting yourself into Kurt," Cooper said.
"Oh, I am well aware," He said placing a tiny kiss on Blaine's cheek.
"Ugh, you guys are sickening,"
"Don't be jealous Coop." Blaine smiled. "I'm sure your girl is waiting right around the corner,"
"Speaking of girls," Catherine said sharply. "Shouldn't you be settling down too?"
"Ugh, Nonna," Cooper moaned.
"I know a nice Italian girl who would be—hmm, how you say—magnifico for you," Catherine ranted.
"Nonna," Alberto said. "I doubt Cooper needs your expertise in catching women,"
Enjoying his food he listened closely to the conversation dancing around him, laughing sporadically at the comments that each family member made. Cooper was the eldest, playful yet at times immature in his pursuit for being abnormal. Instead of going into the family business with Blaine he decided to go into acting, which made his father—Anthony frown in disapproval. Despite the fact that his acting career did not take off he was doing small theater productions. Cooper still loved his job he instantly had this light—wholesomeness about his character that instantly drawn Kurt to him.
Alberto like Cooper had also neglected the family business, choosing to get married to his wife Isabella before settling down and buying a restaurant in the heart of New York. They were expecting their third child and were very welcoming towards him.
What the family business was Kurt isn't exactly too sure.
It was sitting with this family did Kurt notice subtle things for instance, whenever Anthony spoke he had the tables full attention and nobody rarely refuted him. It was a strange level of respect; almost fear they had for him. Easily he sat at the head of the table, exuding power and position, he hardly ever uttered a word but even a slight nod seemed to speak volumes. He had the very same striking appearance as Blaine, triangular eyebrows and straight nose with a strong jaw to match, but where Blaine's eyes lit up occasionally his were dead and at times cold. To Kurt they always seemed to be calculating everyone's next move. Anthony was kind to him, yet he felt uneasy around him.
"Thank you," Cooper said. "At least one family member has my back,"
"Come on," Blaine said laughing. "Maybe settling down will do you some good,"
Mischievously Cooper smirked. "I bet you haven't told Kurt about the time you ran through the streets naked?"
Blaine sputtered indigently.
"Oh yes," Sofia said. "We have pictures of that you must see them,"
"No, I don't think that's necessary,"
"You where such a little exhibitionist when you were younger," Cooper teased. "Blaine just loved to walk around without any clothes on—"
"We should all see his baby photos," Catherina said. "Such a—bel bambino," She reached over squeezing his cheeks affectionately.
Kurt chuckled. "I'll bet but I'm pretty sure he hasn't much mature since then,"
"Hey!" Blaine cried. "I have,"
"Says the guy who still watches Disney movies," Alberto said.
"They are classics," Blaine defended.
"What are you five?" Isabella said. "Just last week you were watching movies with Antonia and even she wanted to stop,"
"Oh please," Blaine said. "She was enjoying it just as much as I was,"
"That's why she fell asleep," Isabella replied giving him a deadpan look.
"To me she was just resting her eyes," Blaine said sticking his tongue out.
"Well, we will all be 'resting our eyes' the next time you pick a movie for movie night," Cooper snarked.
Blaine was about to respond when the shrill of his phone cut him off, excusing himself from the table he took the call.
"So have you guys decided on what color you guys want to use for the drapes," Sofia asked conversationally.
"Well, I was thinking beige or maybe a light orange but nothing too drastic because I need it to coordinate with the gowns the brides maids are wearing," Kurt said, when Blaine came back into the room he had a very dark expression.
"I need to go," Blaine whispered in his ear.
"Now," He asked, feeling the frustration boil. "We just got here, can't they let you off for one night—"
"You know they can't," Blaine replied hastily. "Look I'll call you later okay, love you."
"Blaine," Kurt tried to call after him but he was already kissing Sofia and Catherina goodbye.
For a second he thought he was seeing things but Anthony who had barely spoken all night nodded slightly at Blaine whom in turn nodded back. Then Cooper's face flashed with worry before he masked it and Alberto gave him a sideways glare and tipped his head to signal affirmation to him. It was a strange exchange, yet he felt like he was missing out on something monumental. In that moment he realized that aside from Cooper they were all dressed like Blaine, in slick black suits, hair gelled and matching menacing expressions.
Gripping his fork tightly he watched Blaine leave for what felt like the millionth time that day. It was hard enough planning a wedding with his family but his lover didn't seem even the least bit interested in spending time with him anymore. Burying his exasperation Kurt smiled until his face hurt and continued to keep up with the facade.
The feeling of anxiety returned this time full force and he knew in his gut that Blaine was hiding something big and nearly everyone seemed to be in on it.
iIi
"Did it come in?" Blaine barked as he walked through the halls of shipping building near the docs. On the outside it looked like a standard, ordinary sky-scraper but those who worked there knew differently. Inside the hallow walls laid a vast assortment of rich granite, winding halls and seemingly endless rooms.
It was where Botticelli- Anderson the first built his underground empire.
It's where Blaine promised to continue it.
Ominously he waited patiently to hear the impending news he knew Nick was about to deliver. Over the past couple of days he had been getting an alarming number of his co-works proclaiming that he had a rat in the group, a dirty scumbag who was no doubt reporting back to his rival—The Smythe's— about his many secrets. Grinding his teeth together he felt the rage curl like liquid acid in his veins as he thought about the fucker who had betrayed him.
To Blaine loyalty was everything.
Without it they were no different than the beast in the fields.
However, he was cunning and devised a plan to ensnare the bastard.
"Yes, boss, although we've had a little trouble with shipping,"
Blaine stared at him, eyes narrowed and vivid. "What kinds of problems?"
"None that would make you too happy, sir," The burnet said.
"Who was in charge of the order?" Blaine demanded, strutting towards his office with the man trailing behind him.
"Brandon,"
"Where is the little weasel? Fucking bring him to me. I want him on his knees in my office in ten minutes Nick,"
"Right away sir," Nick disappeared when the reach the dual doors to Blaine's massive office. The entire room had a large red rug expanding down the hall, with a detailed engraved table and rich mahogany chairs. Calmly sitting in his black leather chair behind his desk he waited, threading his fingers together for the man who had been feeding his opponents information about his organization. Taking out his silver Walther P99 semi-automatic pistol he placed on the desk in front of him. Breathing in deeply he braced himself as the screams in the hallway got louder and louder until he doors where bursting open. Flailing his arms wildly it took Wes, David, Nick and Jeff to hold down Brandon as he fought against them with everything that he had.
"No, please! I didn't do anythin' you gotta believe me! I ain't did nothin' wrong," The man ranted, uselessly trying to fight back. "Mr. Smythe he sent me okay? Just to look—please—Io vi beggin!" Wes and David forcefully threw the sobbing man on his knees then they jerked his head back roughly.
Condescendingly Blaine glanced down at the man before standing to his feet with the weapon in hand. He gripped it until his knuckles were white as the piece of shit in front of him wailed, pleading pathetically for his life.
"Mr. Smythe sent you?" He asked calmly, pointing the pistol at the man's temple.
"Yes— sì—but just to observed," Brandon replied hastily. "I wasn't going to steal anything! I swear!"
"I welcome you into my family," Blaine snarled, his voice gathering edge. "Treated you like a brother and this is how you repay me,"
"No!" Brandon pleaded, his eyes going wide at the accusations. "They made—"
"How much?" Blaine spat. "How much is Smythe paying you to be his whore?"
"It isn't like that—"
"You are not a man of honor," Blaine growled, finger tightening around the trigger.
"Please, spare me! I will work for you now I promise,"
"You are trying to fuck me and you know what happens when people try to fuck me—pezzo di merda,"
The first shot rang out sending Brandon's brains blasting from the confines of his skull. Once the body hit the ground he continuously plugged bullets into the lifeless body smiling as it jerked periodically and blood splattered everywhere, soaking his face and the carpet. Curling his lips upwards he stopped and Nick handed him a silk white handkerchief to clean off his gun. Maliciously with cold eyes he stared at the dead body in front of him before he sneered.
"Get this piece of shit out of my office,"
A/N: MobsterKlaine lol Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter and let me know what you guys thinks. This story is unbeta'ed so all the mistakes are my own!
