"How was your flight?" Elliott asked when he and Nick walked into Blaine's office on Monday morning.

"Uneventful. I slept a little since I didn't sleep much at all at the hotel. I'm kinda exhausted," Blaine admitted. "And you know I don't like flying alone."

"Alone? Wasn't Kurt right beside you?" Nick asked.

"Kurt didn't show. He changed his flight. He said he wanted to spend a little more time visiting with his family."

"Oh, that makes sense. He said he hasn't been home in a while. I'm glad that he got to spend some quality time with them," Elliott said.

Blaine nodded. "Yeah. So, has my dad or Wes said anything yet about the account?"

"Wes was ecstatic, man," Nick said, patting Blaine's back. "And your dad told me that we did a good job."

"Well, he said that Kurt did a good job," Elliott corrected.

Blaine sighed. "He did. Have you seen Kurt yet?"

"Briefly. He's in his office. Go talk to him. Phase two of this campaign is about to start, and you'll need a jingle for the ad campaign for Body Formations. He'll be a great resource when it comes to writing the lyrics," Nick said.

"Yeah, ok. I'll go mention it to him," Blaine said, leaving the two men standing in his office.

"So, Kurt and Blaine are totally hooking up," Nick blurted as soon as Blaine stepped out.

"Yeah, definitely. Kurt already told me. Should we tell Blaine that we know?" Elliott asked.

Nick laughed. "Nah, this is too fun. Kinda like season five of Friends when Chandler and Monica are sneaking around. It might actually be kinda fun as long as Mr. A. doesn't find out."

"And if Mr. Anderson finds out?"

Nick bit his lip. "Then Kurt is toast, and Blaine will be demoted or possibly fired himself."

"Then, he can't find out," Elliott said simply.


"Guys, We've got to figure out the rest of this ad," Wes said loudly. "Nick has mentioned a few times that he thinks licensing an existing song would be good for this company, and since they specialize in shapewear, a song with shape or body would be fantastic. Blaine? Thoughts?"

"I don't disagree with Nick that licensing is a good idea, especially to get the name of this company out there to the masses, although eventually, I'd like to write a jingle for them too. Something that is revolutionary and inspiring as their mission is. But yes, for the first campaign, a popular song is a good plan."

Kurt shook his head. "I don't know if I agree. A lot of pop songs out there that are talking about shape and image are about sex and perfection. In this campaign, we want to help regular people feel sexy and confident. If we go with a pop song, we have to find something with the right message."

Elliott spoke up. "I agree. We don't want it to be cheesy. Why don't we start brainstorming options?"

"Oh, what about this one," Nick clapped his hands excitedly and started singing,

Looking back on the things I've done,

I was trying to be someone,

Played my part, Kept you in the dark

Now let me show you the shape of my heart

"Backstreet Boys? Really?" Kurt said with a sigh "Those lyrics don't fit the context at all,"

"I agree," Wes chuckled. "What else you got?"

Rachel didn't even say a word. She just burst into song.

You better shape up, 'Cause I need a man,

And my heart is set on you.

Better shape up, You better understand

To my heart I must be true

There's nothing left for me to do.

You're the one that I want, you are the one I want,

Ooh, ooh, ooh, honey

"Ok, that one's definitely better, but it still doesn't fit," Kurt said, shaking his head. "Although I like the idea, that it's talking about being the one you want."

"Ooohh how about this one," Elliott laughed, singing in a silly voice.

Now whip it, Into shape

Shape it up, Get straight

Go forward, Move ahead

Try to detect it, It's not too late

To whip it, Whip it good

Kurt was laughing so hard now that he doubled over. "Oh my God, no Elliott. That sounds so dirty."

Elliott waggled his eyebrows. "We are trying to sell intimate apparel, my friend."

"It sounds like we're trying to talk them into self-pleasure, El," Kurt laughed.

"Hey, I'm not against helping a guy get a release. I mean, masturbation has a purpose, my friend." Elliott laughed.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Next."

How about we go old school," Blaine asked, bursting into song, even strumming along with his guitar.

Bend me, shape me, any way you want me

As long as you love me, that's alright

Bend me, shape me, any way you want me

You got the power to turn on the light

"You wanna suggest a song that isn't overtly sexual?"Kurt huffed, blushing profusely.

"It's pop music," Santana blurted. "They're pretty much all about sex, and as Gilbert said, it's shapewear. Some of the people who buy these things are going to be using them for sex, Humpelstiltskin. Don't be such a prude!"

"I'm not a prude, but it needs to be professional," Kurt countered. "Yes, some of their shapewear will be used for sex, and maybe we could even go down that avenue when we market those particular pieces of fashion. But for right now, we are crafting the right mood for the product's brand. When people think of buying shapewear and Body Formations, what do we want on everybody's minds?"

All of a sudden, Blaine's phone started to vibrate, the ring tone blaring into the room.

I'm in love with the shape of you

We push and pull like a magnet do

Although my heart is falling too

I'm in love with your body

Oh-I-oh-I-oh-I-oh-I

I'm in love with your body

Oh-I-oh-I-oh-I-oh-I

I'm in love with your body

Oh-I-oh-I-oh-I-oh-I

I'm in love with your body

"Oh my God, Blaine! Yes!" Kurt shouted. "That's it!"

"Bet those words have been on his tongue before," Elliott whispered to Nick.

"Decorum, man. But I'll take that bet," Nick chuckled with a fist bump to Elliott. "And I think that's probably not all that was on their tongues,"

"Wanna share with the rest of us?" Wes asked, cocking an eyebrow at the two guys.

"We were just agreeing. It's brilliant! The song is current, uses the words shape and body, and it's kinda an earworm. Besides, we want people using these products to learn to love their bodies, and in turn, get their loving on'" Elliott said candidly. "It's perfect. Great job, Blaine!"

Blaine shrugged his shoulders. "It's my ringtone," he said laughing. "It's not like I did it on purpose."

"Well, it's perfect," Wes said. "Just perfect. "Good work, team."


Blaine swiftly knocked on the door and waited for it to open.

"Blaine, hey. Now's not really a good time. I gotta meet with your father and Wes in a few minutes. Can we chat later?" Kurt asked as he anxiously shuffled some papers.

"Yeah, I think that we need to. Lunch at the Wheelhouse?" Blaine asked, his hands fidgeting nervously.

"Yeah, I'll meet you there," Kurt nodded, the papers in his hands fluttering because Kurt's hand was shaking. Blaine took his hand.

"Hey, it'll be fine. This meeting. I'll be there too. They just want to tell us that we did a great job and plan phase two. At least, I think so. We hadn't had a positive meeting in awhile," Blaine frowned.

"Your dad's proud of you," Kurt said reassuredly, patting Blaine's shoulder

He's proud of you, not me." Blaine said, hanging his head. "But that's ok. I'm just excited to actually get to step two on my first lead." He smiled softly. "Alright, let's get in there."


Blaine motioned for Kurt to take a seat in the far corner of the booth before he sat across from him. "So, that was practically painless, wasn't it."

"It wasn't, actually. I'm sorry your dad didn't say that he was proud of you," Kurt frowned. "How do you work for a man that treats you like you're incompetent on a daily basis?"

"I'm kinda used to it. At least he didn't threaten to move me to the mailroom this time," Blaine joked. "I'll take it."

"I'm sorry, Blaine. I think you were great in there," Kurt said with a reassuring smile.

"Thank you," Blaine smiled back graciously. "You were too. So, about the other nigh-". He didn't get to finish because the waitress stepped up to the table to take their order. He ordered his usual order of fettuccine alfredo and a medium drip and Kurt ordered a caesar salad and a green tea."What? Nothing fruity today?" Blaine laughed.

"Oh god! Never again unless you want me to hurl all over your shoes."

"You hurl on these shoes and you'll be buying me a new pair, got it?" Blaine laughed.

"Ugh, I'm never drinking again, alright? I never do, actually. That was only the second time," Kurt admitted, "and I ruined footwear both times. I think the universe is trying to tell me to stay away from it."

Blaine laughed heartily. "I think that's a good idea. So, how did it go with your family? Was it both your mom and dad?"

Kurt grew quiet, almost as if he were frozen "Um, no. My mom passed away when I was eight. Cancer. I have a stepmom. She's great. It's kinda an embarrassing story. I introduced them because I had a crush on her son."

"Oh, so you're step-brothers now. That's cool. Was he there too?"

"Um, no. He passed away last year. Car accident. He was a senior in college. He was studying to be a music teacher."

"Kurt, I'm sorry. You've never really talked much about your family before, except your dad. I guess that makes sense now," Blaine said lowering his head.

"It's ok. You didn't know. We never really talk about your family either."

"Well, it's awkward because my dad is the boss and my parents are recently divorced. It was finalized just last September. And then, I don't talk about my brother because he ruffled a lot of feathers when he was here and pissed off my dad when he quit and ran to LA." He sighed. "Families are complicated, aren't they?"

"They can be," Kurt agreed. "But they can be amazing too. My dad is the most wonderful man I've ever met. He's honest, supportive, and loving, and I can tell him anything. He's more like my best friend than my father."

"My mom is like that for me. She's an amazing lady. Oh, my mom said to tell you that you can join us for dinner the next time we're all in Ohio."

"Your mom knows about me?"

"Yeah, I just told her that we had a new writer at work. She used to live in New York when my parents were still married, but she moved back to Westerville last year after the divorce. I was telling her about the ad and everything and since it was primarily your idea, I mentioned you."

Kurt took a long breath, "Look, Blaine. About the other night. I think that should just be a one-night thing. I mean, we apparently both needed to get it out of our system. There was obviously some sexual tension built up, and we got that resolved, so I think that we need to keep this strictly professional."

Blaine bit his lip. "Kurt, I-" all of a sudden his phone buzzed, alerting Blaine that he had a new text.

From Dad: I forgot to tell you good work on the campaign.

Blaine's eyes started to tear up.

"Blaine? Is everything ok?"

Blaine turned the phone and showed the message to Kurt. "Everything is great," he said with a smile.


Things were better after that. His dad made an effort to pull him aside and give him pats on the back from time to time, and he seemed to smile at him more than usual. Things between him and Kurt were less awkward as well since they talked. Maybe Kurt was right. Maybe they just needed to release the sexual tension. Now, they could work together without all of those distractions.

Except now, it was even more distracting. They were constantly in each other's offices because they were planning the ads. And every time that Kurt sighed or brushed his arm, it reminded him of that incredible encounter, however brief it was.

Kurt seemed to think one time was enough. Unfortunately for him, he didn't share Kurt's opinion. Kurt Hummel was like a drug to Blaine, and one taste, one moment, wouldn't satisfy his needs. No. Once would never be enough. He was completely addicted, with no hope of getting another fix.

Unless

He knew what he had to do. He went to the elevator and punched the number ten. He needed to discuss this with someone who wasn't on his team, who wouldn't tell anyone else. He needed someone who had been there. He stepped out of the elevator onto the tenth floor, the athletic department. He found the right office and knocked on the door.

"Blaine? Long time, no see,"

"I just saw you on the trip," Blaine chuckled. "Jeff, do you have a minute?"

"Sure, what's up?"

Blaine closed the door behind them. "Was it worth it? Transferring departments?"

Jeff nodded. "Absolutely. But I thought you finally got your first lead account? Nick said that you and Kurt blew everyone awa- oh! I know that look. You have feelings for Kurt. Nick said that he thought you might."

"Jeff, you can't say anything, ok, but on the trip, Kurt and I hooked up."

"I knew it!" Jeff threw a punch in the air. Twenty bucks for me. Nick and I had a bet."

" You bet if we'd sleep together?"

"No. It was never a matter of if. It was when. I guessed that you two wouldn't make it past the weekend. Nick thought you'd have a little more restraint. Clearly, I know you a little better."

"You've known me longer," Blaine shrugged. "But how could you tell?"

"I saw that look on your face on the plane. The touches, the heart eyes, the way he melted into you when he laid his head on your shoulder. You both got it bad."

Blaine shook his head. "He doesn't. He said that he just needed to get it out of his system."

"That's bull shit and you know it," Jeff laughed. "Nick tried that line on me too. And then we slept together a couple of hours later. I let him come to me or it would've been just a few minutes because I so wanted him right then and there. We were in his office, so that would've been bad."

"You two tried to work together without the romantic feelings getting in the way. Nick said you finally offered to move departments."

"It was hardly a sacrifice. I like sports, and I was never head over heels in the fashion department. It was the only position opened when I applied. But after Mr. A made that rule, we decided it would be best. I went to HR, and requested a transfer, and this job came up a few weeks later. But Blaine, you know that it's going to be harder for you two. Your dad's the CEO of the company. It was his policy. Besides, he's a homophobe. He's never going to be ok with it,"

Blaine's shoulders slumped. "I know. So what do I do?"

"Your dad won't be here forever. Has he said anything to you about retirement?"

"No, but you know he wouldn't tell me. I'd probably find out after the janitors and people in the mailroom. Hell, I'd probably find out when I found the cake in the lobby with his name on it. He doesn't tell me anything."

"But he's still planning on turning over the company to you, right?"

"I think he'd rather pull some hobo off the street than to give me the company. You don't do that to someone who you find to be a disappointment," Blaine said with an exasperated sigh.

"I overheard him say yesterday that he was planning on turning the business over to his son. That's you, Blaine. And he said it would probably be by the end of the year.

"It's only February," Blaine Said . "He hasn't said a thing. Are you sure that's what you heard? There have been retirement rumors before."

"One hundred percent. I was right there. I heard it from his own mouth. He said it to a client, and you know he wouldn't lie. Your dad's brutally honest." Jeff said.

"Don't I know it? So do I request the transfer? I mean, Kurt said he wanted to keep it professional. If he doesn't even feel that way about me, then it'd be a moot point."

Jeff rolled his eyes. "God, you are as oblivious as you were back at Dalton. He looks at you like you're the only one in the room. However, he could be saying that because he's scared. You're the boss's son. You've been here a while. He's the new guy, and he doesn't have connections here yet. On top of that, there's the fact that on the very first day he started here, you limped in the room after sleeping with your ex. For all he knows, you could be the office player."

"How did you know about that?" Blaine asked, his mouth agape.

"Duh, I work in the same building and I know that walk. But Nick told me," Jeff laughed.

"So, what do I do?"

"He asked that you remain professional, so that's what you do. If he decides that he wants something more later on, then start looking for a transfer, or hell, you don't really like working for your dad. There are other places out there. You're the son of George Anderson. You could find work. Or, there's other work for a guy that's as great of a composer as you are. This is New York. There are all kinds of studios and production companies here. Or you could always call Mr. Berry. He was ready to sign you"

"My dad would quash that before it ever started. Besides, I'm 28, and I'm stuck in fashion advertising until I take over my dad's company. I couldn't leave if I wanted to. It's too late to reinvent myself."

"Tell that to Dave Grohl, or Slash, or Madonna. People reinvent themselves and start over all of the time. And you're just as good as you always are. I heard you play at the Christmas party. You had old man Ryan in tears. Of course, he was toasted, but it could've been you that brought that on," Jeff shrugged. "Do you have any gigs coming up?"

Yeah, in a couple of weeks. It's just at the Spotlight Diner. I never really stopped playing there, and they pay well. I haven't really learned or written anything new. Hell, now, they just call me Mr. Jingles."

"Oh God, that sounds like something an old lady would name one of her 75 cats," Jeff laughed. "Tell Nick the date and time, and we'll come. We need a date night anyway. We could invite Kurt."

"No, he wants to keep it professional, and I'm going to respect his wishes," Blaine said. "It's going to be hard as hell, but I can do it if that's what he really wants."

"Are you sure that he's happy in the fashion department? Nick fusses from time to time because of all the women's stuff you guys have to try. I think it's pretty hot! Nick doesn't really need a body shaper, but it was hot strippin' it off of him."

"I know. Kurt had to repair Nick's shaper before Elliott could shoot the picture. Could you wait for the campaign before you rip the merchandise next time?"

Jeff laughed. "Hell no. Have you seen his abs? Wait, I guess you all have, and he said he got to see all of yours too. He told me all about your shaper tights. That's hilarious!"

"Oh shut up, asswipe. It was all Kurt's fault."

"That's how it happened, didn't it. You saw each other in your skivvies and you jumped each other, didn't you?"

"Actually, he got drunk, threw up on my shoes, and then told me to fuck off. How could I resist that?" Blaine laughed.

"Oh lord, Blaine, you have your work cut out for you. Kurt's a firecracker."

"He really is," Blaine grinned stupidly. "Hey, I better get back to work and stop hurting your productivity."

"My productivity. Dude, I'm the top ad guy in my department. If you aren't careful, it'll be me running this place when your old man retires."

"Oh whatever. Sports equipment sells itself," Blaine said, standing up and striding for the door when he made an abrupt stop. "Oh my god, Jeff. Sports equipment! I think I just found a new market for this shapewear. I gotta go talk to Kurt."

Jeff just laughed to himself. "I give them two days before one of them jumps the other one in his office."


Blaine ran all the way down three flights of stairs and all the way to the end of the hall and barely knocked before barging through the door of Kurt's office. "Kurt, shapewear as sportswear!" Blaine panted, out of breath and sweat dripping off his forehead. "That's how we need to sell it to men. As athletic gear!"

"Uh, Blaine," Kurt said, holding up a finger and the telephone receiver. "Yes, sir. I'll do that as soon as I hang up. I appreciate the opportunity. Yes. I'll let you know. Thank you, sir." Kurt said, and then he set the receiver back on its base. "That was your dad. He needs a team to go back to Columbus next week."

"Already?"

"Yeah, to shoot the ad. Elliott, Tina, and me. Did he ask you too?"

Blaine shook his head. "No, he probably won't. I don't really have much to do with photography, although I can work with a camera if I needed to. Nick and I both took photography classes together after Elliott wouldn't shut up about us needing to learn. Nick quit after the first few classes. He said after all of those years of being in front of a camera, he had no interest in being behind one. I found it quite interesting, so I finished the class. I'm not bad. Some of the photos on the wall in my office and on my desk are mine that I've taken."

"Oh, I didn't know that. They're beautiful. You are a man of many talents," Kurt said with an admiring smile. "So, explain to me what you were saying, about the shapers and sports.

Blaine smiled. "Oh, well, I was talking to Jeff and he said something along the lines of sports equipment selling itself, and I remembered that you said something about how you've used shapers and leotards in the past for workouts. I was just thinking that that would give us a whole new audience to market to athletes. You had also mentioned that some of them were a bit uncomfortable for extended wear, so it may take some selling and some redesign, but I definitely think it'd be worth a shot. Didn't you say you designed your own?"

"Damn, Blaine, I don't think anyone has ever held on to what I said so tightly before," Kurt said with a fond smile, and if Blaine didn't know better, Kurt might've been blushing.

"I always listen when you talk, Kurt," he said, returning Kurt's smile with one of his own. "I don't know if they'll like the idea, and I'll need to strategize with Jeff, but it was just a thought."

"Come with us. On the next trip, Blaine. This is your project. Well, yours and mine. We're supposed to be partners on this, and I would really like you there for this. I mean, this was as much your vision as mine, and you could present your idea about marketing to athletes to their team."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. You remember what happened on the last trip."

"Yes, Blaine. I was there. Of course, I remember. But we're professionals. We can handle going on a trip together. I told you that I'm not touching alcohol again, and I booked my own room this time so I don't get sexiled by Elliott. But honestly. I'm so nervous. I need you. The designer and the creator of the company will be there, and I don't know our company like you do. I wouldn't want to tell them something that doesn't match policy or something. I don't want to blow this opportunity.

Blaine found himself nodding his head even though he knew that it'd be hard to resist being back in the same place as before, being close to Kurt, side by side on an airplane without the watchful eyes of their coworkers and his father. "I don't know if my father would approve."

"I think he might if I were to ask. I know you think of yourself as just a jingle writer, but I see you as my writing partner, and as I said, you have so much more knowledge of the inner workings and policies of Anderson Advertising. Please, Blaine," Kurt said with a pout on his full, pink lips.

Damn you and your mouth, Blaine thought, as his mind drifted back to their previous encounter, where Kurt's pretty, perfect lips were wrapped around his cock. "Ok," Blaine found himself saying in agreement. "If my dad approves, I'll go. Just tell me the dates, and I'll book a room."

"Next Wednesday and Thursday," Kurt answered. "I'll send him an email and ask, unless you just want to ask yourself."

"We'll both do it, but you'd most likely get a better response than I will," Blaine said honestly. "I'm going to call Jeff and try to figure out what we might do for an athletic campaign. Who knows? He might even be able to find us a spokesperson or an athlete or performer who could endorse the products for us."

"Oh my goodness, Blaine. That would be perfect. Thanks."

"No problem. We're in this together, right?"

"Right. Now go and brainstorm with Jeff and let me know what he says. And don't forget to email your dad."


Blaine was a nervous wreck. It had been two days since he emailed his father, and he never got a response. He finally just decided to go and ask his father himself when his father surprised him by stopping by his office.

"Son, a word," George said, stepping inside Blaine's office and closing the door behind him.

Blaine jumped at the sound of the wooden door shutting. Blaine looked up from his keyboard where he had been composing a melody he thought might work for the Body Formations ads. He hadn't even heard his father knock. "Yes, sir."

"Blaine, I got your email regarding the business trip to Columbus. I contemplated emailing you back but I decided it'd be best to talk to you in person. Then, I wondered why you wouldn't grant me the same courtesy. A businessman has to take charge. He has to ask questions and make inquiries, and you've not brought up this trip to me once. I heard about your marketing plan from both Mr. Sterling and Mr. Hummel. I have to say that it's a good plan, but I find myself disappointed that you didn't have the initiative to ask me man-to-man to make this presentation," George said solemnly. "You've stated before that you can handle this company, but it's situations such as these that make me wonder if you really want this."

"I wouldn't have worked on this marketing plan with Jeff nonstop the last few days if I wasn't serious about it, and I think that we have a brilliant plan. We have multiple celebrities possibly lined up to endorse Body Formations, and we've collaborated with the art department to create a new ad for the athletic market. I'm quite proud of what we have developed thus far," Blaine replied, his hands in his pockets because quite honestly, they were sweating from his nerves being on the fritz. "In regards to the trip, I didn't ask because you asked Kurt, not me, which I took to mean you see him more as the lead than I. I care about this company, I care about this account, and I want to be there. The question is, do you want me there?"

"They don't need a composer at this juncture, Blaine," George said abruptly.

"If you think all I do is composing, you have no clue what I do to keep this department running. If you think of me as only a composer, why the hell am I here?"

"Because your damn brother ran off to chase his silly dreams and you were about to go down the same path. He's $50,000 dollars in debt, and he called me again begging' for a handout," George huffed.

"I'M NOT COOPER, DAD! I'M HERE. I'VE BEEN HERE FOR FIVE YEARS AND YOU STILL TREAT ME LIKE I'M A FIVE-YEAR-OLD."

"Because you act like a child," George replied sternly. You're yelling at me because I didn't invite you on a trip that you aren't really qualified to go on."

Blaine took in a calming breath. "I have a master's degree in business even though I didn't want one. I graduated at the top of my class at NYU with double majors while I interned at YOUR company."

"I paid for those degrees, including that extra year you had to go BECAUSE you insisted on doing a double major even though I told you it wasn't necessary. I didn't want you struggling trying to make it in music when there were opportunities for you right here."

"I wouldn't have struggled because I'm good. Mr. Berry wanted me to record an album. I quit for you, so I could come here every day and hear you tell everyone else how great they are at their jobs and how much I suck, at pretty much everything."

George took a seat in an office chair and looked directly into his son's face."You aren't horrible at this, Blaine, but you could do so much better. You show up, but you normally take a passive approach. You act like you couldn't care less about this company." George said matter-of-factly.

"I do care, but it's not my passion. It's not my calling. Music is. You know that. You have a whole department dedicated to it, and you know that I'd be happiest there. But here I am, five years later in the fashion department because I was never given the opportunity to take the lead in a campaign, until now," Blaine responded, his hands gesturing wildly. "Why did you even make me lead on this account?"

He took a deep breath, as if he was choosing his words carefully. "You never showed interest in leading a pitch until recently. You walking into that meeting in those atrocious tights showed me that you might be serious about running the company one of these days. It showed initiative. It showed thinking outside of the box. Besides, Mr. Hummel was new, and I thought he might need someone to show him the ropes. I knew you could handle it because you know the department and this company better than anybody." George explained. "Look, Blaine. I know you think I'm hard on you. But if I am, it's because I see how much potential you have. You are an Anderson, after all. As for the music department, have you ever asked?"

Blaine ducked his head sheepishly. "Uh, I guess not. Mr. Berry has been the department head for ages."

"Would you like to put in for a transfer, Blaine?"

Blaine nodded. "Yes. So are you telling me it's that easy?"

George cracked a tiny smile. "No. You want a transfer, and you want to go on this trip? You need to prove it. Pitch me."

"Pitch what?"

"Your ad. The sportswear angle. Right here. Right now. Show me."

"I don't have the boards yet."

"A true salesman doesn't need boards or jingles or anything but a product."

"Ok. Take a seat, sit and let me tell you the reason you need a Body Formations stomach and abs trainer."


Blaine was floating on air. He and his dad finally had the heart-to-heart they were needing to have for five years. It turned out that yelling at his dad was what it took to finally get his attention. Well, that, a pair of skimpy tights. And it was all because of Kurt.

Kurt had pushed him to take risks. Kurt had been the one to inspire the sportswear idea, even if he hadn't meant to, and Kurt had been the one who suggested that he go on this trip. For the first time since he had started working at Anderson Advertising, he felt excited to go to work every day. For the first time, he felt appreciated and needed, not just by his father but by his team and by Kurt. Kurt had said that he needed him.

Alright, Kurt had meant professionally, but Blaine couldn't help but hope that he had meant a little more. They had been together once, and it had been incredible. Maybe Kurt could ignore their chemistry, but Blaine knew that he couldn't. Reigning in his fantasies while he was booking his flight and hotel room proved to be much more difficult than he ever imagined. As he browsed the room's amenities, he couldn't help but picture Kurt in that Queen bed, tangled in the sheets together, bathing and washing each other in the over-sized tub, and then soiling one another all over again in the shower, then afterward, walking hand in hand together in the park nearby. He had to stop this. He booked his room, printed his registration information, and closed out his browser as his door opened.

"Hey Anderson," Jeff smiled, handing over some posters that he had asked their art department to create. "Your dad stopped by earlier and asked me to join you and the rest of your team on your trip to Body Formations. I tried to talk him into letting Nick go, but he just gave me the stink eye. He told me that he was quite impressed with your pitch. He looked thinner and was much less hunched over. Did you convince your dad to wear a shaper?"

Blaine grinned. "I did. He made me pitch to him, I told him to try it on, that he needed to see the results to believe what a difference they made."

"I would've never believed it. Tightass George Anderson, paying extra to send people on business trips and wearing body shapers. Man, things are gettin' shaken up 'round here. I think I like it. I'm proud of you."

"It's Kurt. He wanted us there. I would've never said a thing to my dad if it weren't for him."

"I'm telling you, man. Be careful. This is how things started with Nick and me. You're smitten, and I just don't want this to all blow up in your faces."

"I asked for a transfer. To the music department. He said that he would greatly consider it after he told me that he was impressed with my pitch. What the hell has my life become?" Blaine laughed heartily.

Jeff patted Blaine's shoulder a few times. "Man, I'm happy for you. Although you may want to give Kurt a heads up. Explain why you're doing it. It may hurt him if you leave in the middle of this deal."

"Dad didn't make any promises. He did tell me that he would definitely consider me if a position in the department opens up, although I know Rachel's gunning for it too. Lord knows, she doesn't really belong in the fashion department."

Jeff laughed. "No, she does not. Knee socks, plaid skirts, and reindeer sweaters. I don't know how that girl landed this job in the first place."

"You mean, aside from her dad running the music department for the last twenty-five years?" Blaine chuckled.

"Yeah, I forget that they're related. Rachel's nothing like Mr. Berry," Jeff shrugged. "But she's adopted, so that may have something to do with it. But anyway, Book your tickets. Kurt told me this afternoon that rooms are scarce due to some big festival or something going on."

"Yeah, I need to go do that now. Thanks, man," Blaine said with a smile.

Jeff picked up his cell phone and started composing a text to Nick.

Jeff: What do you want to bet that Blaine and Kurt are going to jump each other's bones during this trip.

Nick: Nothing, because we both know that's inevitable, and I don't want to lose.

Jeff: Loser gets to blow the winner.

Nick: Oh what the hell. I'll take that bet, just so I can blow you.

Jeff: Oh honey, you can blow me, anytime, anywhere.

Jeff: Um, except here because really don't want Mr. A catching one or both of us with our pants down.

Jeff: Again

Nick: We'll just have to be discreet. Meet me in the stairway in ten minutes.

Jeff: Hell yes!


Blaine's knuckles were white from gripping the desk so tightly. "Wait a minute, what do you mean, I don't have a reservation! I have my confirmation number right here," Blaine was starting to get upset. He released the panelboard and squeezed his fingers into a fist and then released them a few times to try to get the blood flowing back in them again.

The desk clerk frowned and shook her head. "I'm sorry sir. I don't have anything under that number. Are you sure you booked a room at this hotel? I don't have your name, that confirmation number, or any of the other information that you just gave me in our records except for previous stay information. Do you have a printout of your confirmation?"

Blaine shook his head and bit his lip. He picked up the paper he had previously laid on the desk and looked at his confirmation information

"Blaine, is everything ok?" Kurt asked, his eyebrows furrowed. "What's wrong?"

"They can't find my booking. I have the reservation right here."

"Let me see that," Kurt said, reaching for the paper so he could view the reservation Blaine was showing him.

Kurt smiled softly. "Um, Blaine, your reservation is for the Holiday Inn in North Carolina. I didn't even know that there was a Columbus in North Carolina."

"Oh my God! What!" Blaine smacked his head in embarrassment."Dammit! Elliott said he did that once too. Apparently, there are twenty other cities in the U.S. named Columbus. I was in such a hurry to book the room that I didn't really check, I guess," he shrugged. He looked at the clerk as she stared at him in disbelief. "Do you have any other rooms?"

She shook her head once more."No sir. We're all booked. There's a huge festival happening this week. You all should check it out. You boys might like it. The Arnold's Sports Festival. They have everything from horse racing to bodybuilding."

Jeff patted Blaine's back. "We're attending it already," he said to the clerk. Then, he turned to Blaine. "Lauren actually arranged for me to meet with two different athletes while I was here, just to see if they'd be interested in being a spokesperson, you know."

"That sounds pretty cool," Blaine admitted. "I think that'd be a great strategy. See what you can find out, and I guess I need to call around and find a room. I guess, worst-case scenario, I could stay with my mom in Westerville."

Kurt shook his head. "You can stay in my room. You can't be commuting back and forth. It'll be fine."

"I can't ask you to do that," Blaine replied, his hand resting gently on Kurt's arm. "I'll figure something out."

"You didn't ask me to. I offered," Kurt replied. "It'll be fine."

"Kurt, I-" Blaine bit his lip again.

Kurt shrugged."We're professionals, right?"

"Right," Blaine said, nodding, although his face probably showed exactly how bad of an idea this was.

Kurt looked at the receptionist. "Could we get another bed or is there a pull-out in there or something?"

She shook her head. "They've all been reserved. There is a recliner in there, but the bed is a queen. It sleeps at least two people," she shrugged. "We can make sure that you have extra bedding and pillows."

"It'll be fine," Kurt said with a small smile. "Come on Blaine. We'll make it work. It's only two days."

"If you're sure," Blaine said hesitantly, fiddling with the handle of his rolling luggage.

"I'm sure," Kurt smiled. "I don't want you running back and forth to other hotels when I have room for you." Kurt took the handle from his reluctant business partner. "Here. Let's allow this nice gentleman over there to collect our bags and go get settled. We have a busy couple of days."

Jeff just looked at Blaine and mouthed, "Bad idea, dude."

Blaine shrugged, pointed to his bags for the bellhop to collect, and took the extra room key from the clerk. "I know," he mouthed back.

Jeff grabbed his cell and typed a quick text to Nick.

Jeff: You might as well scrub the floor in the living room because you're going to be on your knees as soon as I get home.

Nick: Are they already having eye sex?

Jeff: Kurt just offered his room for them to share.

Nick: Did Blaine book a room in another state again?

Jeff: Yep!

Nick: Sigh. I knew I shouldn't have taken that bet.

Nick: Oh, what the hell. I bet they won't even make it past tonight before they are all over each other.

Jeff: You're on. Wanna skype in five minutes?

Nick: Hell Yeah!

Jeff: Wear the shaper.


"So, North Carolina, huh? Kurt laughed as the hung up the nicer clothing item on the wooden hangers in the closet.

"That's what happens when I have to make my own reservations," Blaine laughed. "I kinda had other things on my mind?"

"What kind of things?" Kurt asked as he ran the hot, miniature iron over his blazer.

"Oh, um," Blaine chewed his bottom lip. "Just this pitch, I guess. Not letting my father down, again," he sighed. He wasn't going to dare mention the main reason, which was that he was replaying scenes in his head of their intimate moments instead of paying attention to his work or making accommodations for the trip.

"Blaine, you're going to do great. " Kurt said, smiling sweetly at Blaine, the iron sitting on the cotton-blend jacket.

"Uh, Kurt. The fabric."

"Shit!" Kurt cursed, lifting the iron and checking the blazer for burns and letting out a relieved sigh when he relized the suit jacket had been spared. "So, when are your meetings?"

"Jeff is meeting with one of the athletes tonight. We'll meet with another one tomorrow morning. I meet with Body Formations at ten."

"It'll be fine. It really is a great idea," Kurt smiled, unplugging the iron and smoothing out the jacket.

"Is it really? Do you think the current designs that they offer will work for sportswear?"

Kurt cringed. "Well, the leotard design does heat up your body, so you sweat more, and potentially, burn more calories."

"But?"

"But, the fabric isn't as breathable as many athletes prefer. It's good for water sports, so it'd be great to start there, you know, wet suits, swimsuits with incorporated shapewear, and even some of the shapers. However, if they are wanting to interest dancers, gymnasts, tennis players, and the like, they are going to want to use different fabrics, like lycra and spandex."

"This is why you should be in the meeting, Kurt. I knew that I didn't particularly like the fabric that was used for the shapers, but I don't really know why aside from it being hot. You know this stuff," Blaine said with a smile.

"Yeah, but," Kurt bit his bottom lip.

"But?" Blaine prompted as he put the last few garments away in the dresser drawers.

"I'm not sure that they want my opinion. I mean, you're meeting with the higher-ups tomorrow, and I don't know if it's a good idea to say to them that their fabric choices may not be appropriate for all of their products," Kurt said hesitantly as he hung up the last garment and unplugged the iron.

"Actually, that's exactly what they need to hear. I heard them say in the very first meeting that their goal is to make high-quality shapewear. If they plan to expand to sportswear, I'm sure they would want the same standard and quality. Better we are upfront and honest and tell them that now than they mass produce a bunch of inferior products and then their line ends up failing," Blaine replied, sitting down on the bed.

"And if they don't want to produce higher quality?" Kurt sat down next to Blaine on the bed.

"Then, that's their choice, and we'll produce the best ads we can for them, but we won't lie. That's one thing our company takes seriously. We will do our best to promote the positives of our products, but we will not make false claims. That's one of the reasons that we've failed to secure some of the more recent accounts. The t-shirt company, for example. They kept pushing us to say that their shirts were of the highest quality, but you saw what the fabric was like when you helped me clean up the water spill that day in my office."

"The fabric was horrible," Kurt said, wrinkling his nose. "It was made from an uncarded cotton and polyester blend, probably produced in Bangladesh. If they really wanted a quality t-shirt, they should've gone with an organic Pima cotton or Egyptian cotton, although it would've raised their costs dramatically. They could've produced a pretty good quality shirt with a tri-blend of polyester, rayon, and high-quality cotton, but I don't think that's what they were going for."

Blaine's mouth dropped open. "You got all of that by touching it for five minutes?"

"Fashion is my passion. God, I just sounded like Dr. Seuss," Kurt chuckled. "But, yeah. It's what I've studied since I was ten years old, when I begged my dad to stop buying me flannel."

"Oh my god! I could just see you, rocking flannel button-ups, a ball cap, and loose-fitted jeans."

"You shut your mouth, Anderson," Kurt laughed. "I wore that stuff for a short time in high school when I was dealing with stuff regarding my sexuality and trying to figure out if I was going to come out to my dad. It turns out that my dad knew since I was three years old. It became a little rocky for us when my stepbrother came into the picture, and he was the quarterback, and they had all kinds of things in common, and I was the camp kid that loved Broadway and Marc Jacobs. I went through a butch phase for about a week, and then dad told me that he wanted me to be myself. I haven't looked back. Now, fashion to me is a form of self-expression, and it's my dream to share my love of it with others. If it has to be fashion advertising, so be it."

"Your dad sounds amazing, Kurt. I'm so jealous," Blaine said as he fiddled with the duvet. "Where would you be if you had your dream job? I told you that my dream is writing music for artists and maybe even for myself. What would you do if you didn't need to earn a hefty paycheck to sustain your outrageous New York rent costs?"

"I'd design my own line. I'd probably start with shapewear and athletics if you wanted to know the truth, because I love it. But I'd want to incorporate the shapewear into outer garments as much as possible. Compression t-shirts, body-shaping camisoles, corsets, slimming tights, and jeans. I know it's been done to an extent, but not with my sense of flair. That would be my dream," Kurt said with a humongous smile.

"I would love to see that, and I think you'll get there," Blaine said, patting Kurt's leg. "Please sit in this meeting with me, Kurt. You're made to pitch this."

Kurt nodded. "Ok, but if they hate it, I'm throwing you under the bus," Kurt giggled.

"I'd expect nothing less," Blaine grinned as he stood up and stretched."Alright. Time for bed. We've got a big day tomorrow, with the photoshoot and the pitch, so we need to be well-rested. Point me in the direction of those extra sheets."

"Top of the closet, but Egyptian cotton they ain't. Are you sure that you can sleep on that horrible chair?"

"I can sleep anywhere. I found that out on our Warbler camping trips, where we would all shove into teeny tiny tents and rough it," Blaine laughed. "Besides, it's either that or the rental car."

"Blaine, you can sleep on the bed. It's a queen. There's plenty of room."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Blaine said, shaking his head. "I mean, you remember what happened the last time."

"Of course, I remember. As if I could forget. But we're professionals. I'm not a man-ho, Blaine. I can control my urges."

"I can too," Blaine said, shrugging his shoulders as he reached into the closet to grab the extra sheets.

"Then, it's fine. Just stay on the left. The right side is mine," Kurt warned playfully.

"The whole bed is yours. It's your room. I'm just squatting because I didn't know the difference between North Carolina and Ohio. Next time, I'll pay more attention," Blaine chuckled as he walked over to the uncomfortable-looking chair.

"Next time, I'm reserving your room," Kurt teased. "Since I've learned of your room booking inadequacies."

"Hush you," Blaine chuckled, as he shuffled himself in the chair. "Ok, the recliner part of this chair has not worked in ages."

"Offer still stands," Kurt smiled, as he scrubbed his face with a moist towelette.

"Nope. I'm good. I'll be out in no time."


Midnight had rolled around, and Blaine was still tossing and turning when Kurt finally pulled his pillow out from underneath his head, sighed, and took his hand. "Come on, Blaine. Neither of us is going to get any sleep tonight if you insist on being a stubborn ass," Kurt laughed until he noticed that Blaine was dressed in only a pair of boxers.

"I'm sorry. I can get a pair of pajama pants. I don't really like them, but I have some in the drawer."

"Just come to bed. I need my beauty sleep," Kurt whined.

"I beg to differ," Blaine yawned. "G'night, Kurt."

"Good night, Blaine."

Five minutes later, they were both asleep, wrapped up in each other's arms like nothing else mattered.