A/N: Eep! I'm on a roll it seems – mostly because I'm in major procrastination mode right now. Thanks to all of you who favorite, followed, and/or reviewed so far. I really love the reviews most because I'm curious what you think and what you're more excited to see!
D/C: Only the plot is mine.
Well, this is awkward.
Blaine felt his face begin to flame as his eyes shifted to see Hiram out of the corner of his eye. Hiram was smiling at the tailor who was standing behind Blaine, lifting his arms to measure his wingspan as he chatted on about the newest shipment from Armani and how are particular suit would look just delicious on LeRoy. The tailor was gay – oh so flamboyantly gay – and though there wasn't any reason to really be nervous, he supposed, he'd never had anyone take his measurements before. He didn't know what to expect, what would come next, and he certainly wasn't used to having anyone standing so close behind him, let alone touching him. He felt on display and completely out of place in a store that sold custom-tailored suits. He'd never even owned a suit, but Hiram and LeRoy insisted he couldn't go to Columbus in jeans. (That's what they'd started calling it – "going to Columbus" rather than "going to the funeral." Blaine felt somewhere halfway between annoyed and relieved that the men were avoiding the word.)
He swallowed thickly when the tailor crouched to measure the side of his leg and told him he could lower his arms. The chatty tailor shifted to crouch in front of Blaine. "Spread your legs for me," he instructed casually, causing the boy's face to flame even more, but the tailor – who Blaine was pretty sure was named "Sydney" – wasn't paying any real attention to him. His story about the Armani suits was apparently over since he filled the next moment of silence with a nonchalant question about what sort of occasion they were shopping for.
Neither Blaine nor Hiram had an opportunity to answer before the tailor anchored the tape measure at Blaine's ankle and stretched it up the inside of his leg. Sudden panic gripped his gut, eyes widening and both hands pushed the tailor's – Sydney's – hand away from his crotch. Blaine stepped quickly back, but the corner of the shop where the three men stood was small. He didn't have anywhere to go, really, except back up to a mirror. The fear and instant distrust was suddenly shielded by anger and Blaine glared at the tailor and Hiram in turn. His hands clenched. He could fight them if he needed to, get away from them if he needed to, but the momentary surprise on the two men's faces gave way quickly to something else. On Hiram's face he saw what looked like concern and on Sydney's – was that empathy? The tailor smiled calmly at him, as if his reaction was nothing to be concerned about at all.
"You've never had your measurements taken before?" he asked, though it sounded more like a statement than a question. He beckoned Blaine with his hand. "Come on, Blaine. I need to get your inseam, but you can hold this end, ok?" He offered Blaine one end of tape-measure and smiled encouragingly, like the boy's reaction was nothing to be embarrassed about – like he didn't even notice how red the teenager's face had gotten. Blaine's eyes flicked toward Hiram who had his arms crossed loosely over his middle. Hiram attempted a small smile but Blaine could still see concern and sympathy in his eyes. Focusing back on Sydney, Blaine set his jaw, pressing his lips into a thin line and nodded almost imperceptibly. He stepped forward, accepting the tape measure cautiously.
"You'll want to hold the end on the inside of your leg – a little higher." Blaine complied, but his blush flared again and he turned his eyes to the ceiling. Anything to keep from thinking about how close this stranger was to his –
"Perfect! All done," said Sydney cheerfully. He plucked the tape from Blaine's hand and smiled widely before turning his attention to Hiram. "So we were thinking classic black?" he asked, walking towards the man whose gaze, for just a second longer, lingered on the boy.
"Yes," he responded when Sydney placed a hand on his shoulder to guide him towards the front of the store. "And we'll need a couple of different ties, I think. Maybe black and gray pattered and then something with a bit more color. What do you think, Blaine?"
The teenager, who'd lagged behind the pair, snapped his eyes up to meet Hiram's for just a second before turning away. He simply shrugged. "Whatever." He didn't notice Hiram's disappointment at the unenthusiastic response. Instead, he let the men resume their conversation and he strolled over to a colorful wall display of bow ties. His brow scrunched together, his eyes flicking between the tied tie on display and the untied versions hanging on hooks. After glancing back at the men to make sure that neither was paying attention to him, Blaine plucked a brown and tan bow tie from the display. He turned it over in his hands, examining the deceptively simple knot that turned that strangely shaped piece of fabric into a perfect, symmetrical bow.
Rachel arrived at school extra early Monday morning, having wanted to leave the house before either of her fathers had a chance to insist on interaction with her new imposter-brother. An hour singing her heart out to Barbra in an empty auditorium had made her feel a little better – especially since her fathers had insisted she nix the early morning warm-ups, at least for the week. Rachel had glared at them for it, and simply added it to the growing list of "ways that Blaine 'Imposter' Whatever-his-last-name-is is ruining my life." It was like the moment this guy showed up, he'd established himself as the most important person in Hiram and LeRoy's shared life – a position that Rachel had occupied exclusively for nearly 16 years before this intruder came along.
It was hard enough dealing with the loss of what she saw as her fathers' undivided love, but having to give up the things that made her feel normal, change the routines that kept her focused on sectionals and winning, made it a lot harder to simply ignore the unwelcome presence in her life.
It wasn't until second period that she finally ran into Kurt, and his bitch-face alone was enough to remind the girl that she'd been ignoring his calls and texts all weekend. She smiled sheepishly. "Hey, Kurt," she greeted him before launching directly into an apology, "Look, I'm really, really sorry about calling you Thursday and bailing on Friday and not even calling, it's just – I've been dealing with a lot right now and I needed time to myself and I didn't mean to shut you out, but I'd really appreciate it if you wouldn't say anything to anyone. I'm just not ready for everyone in Glee to know and –"
Kurt held up a hand to silence her and she stopped her ramble mid-sentence. "Rachel. It's fine." Then Kurt quirked a smile, and Rachel grinned, knowing it was all ok. She smiled happily and sidled up beside him to walk with him to class. She was about to ask about the sleep-over she had missed when Kurt added nonchalantly, "Besides, I already know about Finn. I can't say I really blame you for skipping out on us." He smirked at her shocked expression, then simply shrugged. "Just because I don't participate in the locker-room banter doesn't mean I'm deaf to it, too."
Blaine was still admiring the tie when he heard a voice behind him. "See something you like?"
Blaine started and whipped around to see Hiram smiling gently at him from a few feet away. When Blaine said nothing, Hiram continued, already almost used to the one-sided conversations. "LeRoy's got a thing for bowties. I don't mind them, myself. Just sort of depends on my mood." The older man picked up a maroon and black pattered bowtie and held it up in front of Blaine, his eyes scrunching as if he was trying to imagine the boy with the bow tie on. "This one would work with your hair," he said. "I think that one," he added, considering the tie in Blaine's hands, "would match your eyes. Hold it up?" Blaine shot him a quizzical look. "Go on," Hiram encouraged, "we might as well do this now rather than having to come all the way back, don't you think?" He smirked at the boy.
"I don't need bowties," Blaine murmured in response, but held the brown one up to his collar anyway. His effort to deter the exercise was clearly half-hearted, even if it was clear he wasn't exactly comfortable shopping for suits and accessories. Hiram, though, simply smiled, ignoring the statement.
"Yep, thought so. But that won't really go with a black suit – we should probably get you a second one in brown."
Blaine's eyes widened, but Hiram was clearly speaking more to himself than to Blaine. From the wall, he grabbed an untied version of the brown and honey-tan pattered bow in Blaine's hand, and before the boy could say anything, Hiram was off, clearly on a mission, and headed straight for the tailor. Blaine watched in mild horror as Sydney turned to talk to Hiram, his eyes and friendly smile flashing brightly. Hiram held up the bowtie and pointed his finger at it as he said something. Sydney looked at the tie, took it from Hiram's hand and nodded, then beckoned the man to follow him towards the area of the shop where all the brown suits were hanging displayed.
Blaine watched, helpless, as the entire scene unfolded. He didn't want a brown suit. He didn't want a black suit even. He didn't want anything from these people, but Hiram was making it completely impossible to refuse, and Blaine knew he didn't have a choice. He knew he needed a suit to wear to the funeral and only Hiram and LeRoy had the money to buy it. He hated this. He hated relying on anyone but himself. He looked down at the tie in his trembling hand, then crushed his fist around it, his jaw clenching. He knew it was probably irrational to think, but part of him felt like the more the Berrys did, the more he owed them, and they seemed intent on racking up his debt. He didn't want the stupid tie. He didn't want to owe these people anything. But underneath that angry thought, he felt anger at himself, because underneath that angry thought, a part of him really, really wanted the tie.
Rachel's mood improved as the day continued, and by the time Glee rehearsal came around, she had totally forgotten about the drama with Blaine and her dads. She arrived in the auditorium, already clad in her Janet outfit, and caught eyes with Kurt. He wasn't smiling and she shot him a questioning look. He just shook his head and looked away. Shrugging it off (he probably got hit with another slushie after lunch) Rachel turned her attention to Finn, who'd just arrived on the stage, looking adorable in his Brad costume and glasses. She beamed at him, skipped towards him and stood on her tip-toes, her lips puckered and asking for a kiss. Finn smirked and obliged, pecking her chastely. Neither noticed that Kurt had looked up and seen it, and Sam, the only one who happened to see Kurt looking and what he was looking at, thought nothing of it at all because Kurt returned his eyes to his script without a single hint of emotion crossing his face.