Chapter Two

A/N: Greetings, and welcome to Chapter Two of "Well-Suited." I'm so grateful for all of the visitors and views to the first chapter, and am especially thrilled by the reviews, follows and favorites I have received. Thank you! Now, without further ado, on with the story…

The arrival of the next appointment date found Kurt back at the shop, brushing off the last remnants of lint from the tuxedo before Blaine arrived. Kurt may or may not have taken a little extra care with his own appearance, as well, despite the warning of his best friend and roommate, Rachel, earlier that morning.

"Kurt," Rachel chided when he entered the kitchen wearing one of his best outfits. "What are you doing?" she asked in a voice laced with exasperation. Kurt had told her all about his encounter with his handsome, charming, nearly perfect customer, including the tragic detail that he was straight and engaged. While he knew objectively that it was completely pointless to spend any time thinking about Blaine, he couldn't seem to stop himself.

"What?" he asked defensively, moving past Rachel to grab a cup of coffee before heading to the shop.

"Don't you 'what' me, Kurt Hummel," she insisted, blocking him from leaving by standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. "You dressed up for him," she accused.

"I did not," Kurt argued back.

"This," she said, gesturing towards his slim-legged pants, designer button-down, and tweed vest, "is not what you normally wear to work, mister."

"Well, maybe I just felt like looking nice today. Does one need a reason for fashion?" he retorted weakly, knowing that Rachel was one hundred percent right.

Rachel dropped her hands and tilted her head to the side. "Kurt," she repeated, this time sounding more concerned than accusatory, "I just don't want to see you get hurt, honey. There's nothing there for you." She noted the pained look on Kurt's face and hurried on, putting her hands on his shoulders. "No, sweetie. It's not because there's anything wrong with you. He's straight, and engaged. To a woman," she emphasized the last word. "It can't happen. You know better than to get attached to a straight guy…again," she hesitated to add the "again" but it slipped out.

"Oh, lord," Kurt exclaimed, dropping his head forward at the reference to his long-ago crush on Finn. "I know you're right. I know. It's just," he sighed, shuffling forward into his friend's waiting arms, "I swear, Rach, I felt a connection with him. It wasn't just on my side, either. It's been a long time since I've felt that way about anyone."

Rachel squeezed him a little tighter, rubbing small circles on his back. "Oh, Kurt, I'm sorry. Even the best of us get a mixed signal sometimes. If nothing else, this just shows that you're ready to meet someone. Isn't it nice to feel that way again?"

Pulling back, Kurt smiled sadly at her. He knew she just wasn't going to get it. "Thanks for trying, Rach." He kissed her on the cheek, grabbed his travel mug, and headed out the door.

He was stirred from his reverie by the sound of the shop's doorbell, signaling Blaine's arrival. He picked up the tuxedo, took a deep breath, put on a smile, and walked out to the front.

"Hi, Kurt!" Blaine greeted him brightly. "Ooh, is that my tux?" he asked eagerly, stepping forward and reaching out to lightly touch the lapel.

"It is indeed," Kurt laughed, pulling the suit back sharply and out of Blaine's reach. "Easy there, grabby. Don't wrinkle the fabric!"

Blaine made a pouty face, complete with the most adorable puppy dog eyes Kurt had ever seen. "Kurrrrt," he whined, "please can I see my tuxedo?"

"Oh, my god, here" he laughed, handing the suit over immediately. "You get anything you want with that look, don't you?" he teased.

Blaine took the suit from him and headed for the changing room. "Pretty much," he retorted, looking over his shoulder and giving Kurt a wink before sashaying through the curtain.

He winked. He freaking winked, Kurt screamed inside his head as he felt the butterflies in his stomach flutter madly. Taking a deep breath, he repeated his mantra of the week to himself: He's straight, and he's getting married. He's straight, and he's getting married. Either of those reasons alone would be enough to cause Kurt to shut down any romantic train of thought. The two combined, he reasoned, should be sufficient to blow the train, and the tracks, sky high.

"Ready or not, here I come," Blaine called a few minutes later. He pushed aside the curtain and stepped forward into the room. That was the moment Kurt's heart stopped.

He was stunning. The tuxedo fit him beautifully, Kurt thought, with just a touch of a self-congratulatory air. The midnight black fabric hung on his body perfectly, showing off his broad shoulders and narrow waist. The tailored pants lengthened his legs, making him look a trifle taller. The crisp, white shirt was accented with tiny black buttons and the black satin bowtie, which looked awkward on some men, suited him. During his fitting, Blaine had mentioned his love of bowties; Kurt found that he approved. Wholeheartedly.

Kurt's mouth had gone dry as he gaped at Blaine. He hoped his power of speech had not left him as he realized Blaine was speaking.

"Well, it appears you like your own work," Blaine joked as he took in Kurt's rapt expression.

Oh, god. He's talking.Say something, you idiot, Kurt's inner voice yelled. "Oh, um, well," he stumbled, turning away under the guise of looking for his tape measure and pincushion before turning back and gesturing for Blaine to step up on the dais. "It's always nice to see the finished product on its intended owner, you know?" He grinned, hoping he had regained a little of his composure and that Blaine wouldn't notice the flush in his face. Glancing over at him, it was hard to tell by Blaine's expression exactly what he was thinking, but he seemed to be pleased.

"Now, let's see what we have here," Kurt said, turning his full attention to his job. He checked over the suit carefully, tugging here and smoothing there, admiring not only his handiwork but the firm musculature he could feel underneath as his hands lightly brushed over Blaine's shoulders and arms to smooth out the fabric. "How does it feel?" he asked.

"You know, it really feels perfect," Blaine responded, moving his arms this way and that before looking at Kurt through the mirror in front of him as Kurt stood behind. "I mean, I've had suits before, but they've mostly been off the rack with a few minor alterations. This really feels like it was made for me," he beamed a smile at Kurt, who returned it easily. "You're very good at what you do, Kurt."

Kurt felt himself blushing once more. "Thank you, Blaine," he said. He was inclined to brush off the compliment, but somehow, he felt like Blaine actually meant it. "I think you're all ready for the big day," he added with a forced enthusiasm to hide how much the thought of that day depressed him. "I know they say weddings are all about the bride, but there's no reason you can't feel like you're wearing something special, too," he said.

He didn't realize he'd laid a hand on Blaine's shoulder until he felt Blaine place his own hand on top of it. "Thank you, Kurt. I know that in this suit, I really am wearing something special." Their eyes locked in the mirror for a moment before Kurt looked away, quickly withdrawing his hand and crossing to the other side of the room.

"I'm going to give you my card," he said hastily, "just in case anything changes or you need any last-minute alterations." Blaine raised an eyebrow questioningly, and Kurt elaborated. "Hey, it happens. One week out and the guy decides to start stress-eating. Next thing you know, his pants don't fit," he said with a shrug.

Blaine laughed, stepping off the dais and taking the card Kurt held out. "I'll do my best to keep from downing any whole lasagnas. Got it."

"Good call," Kurt replied, grateful for the light-hearted change of tone. "Now go ahead and change. Bring the suit back to me and I'll get it onto a proper hanger and into a garment bag for you. Oh, and promise me you won't fold it over your arm to get it home. It's a tuxedo, not a throw rug," he said a little haughtily.

"Understood," Blaine answered with a tiny salute before going back to the changing room.

Kurt thought he had a few more moments to collect himself before he'd have to say goodbye to Blaine, but then Blaine called out from behind the curtain. "You look really sharp yourself today, by the way," he said. Kurt's head snapped up towards the dressing room as his mouth dropped open. "Any special reason you're all dressed up?" Blaine inquired.

"Oh, I just have somewhere to go after work, and I won't have time to change, so you know…" he lied.

"Makes sense," Blaine responded, sliding the curtain aside and emerging in his own clothes once more, handing the tuxedo to Kurt. "Well, wherever you're going, you'll be the best-dressed guy there, I'm sure." Blaine smiled warmly at Kurt as he reached out and tugged at Kurt's shirt collar to straighten it. At Kurt's quick intake of breath, he quickly withdrew his hand, stepping back slightly. "Sorry, I'm sorry," he said quietly, looking a bit startled. "It was a little crooked…your collar, I mean."

Kurt's eyes went wide, but then he schooled his features once more. "Of course, no problem," he said, hoping his voice didn't sound as shaky as it felt. He busied himself with hanging and bagging the suit, aware that Blaine was watching him intently. Finally, when he could not think of any other way to keep from ending their time together, he turned, handing the garment bag to Blaine.

"There you are, one wedding tuxedo," Kurt proclaimed. Emotional turmoil aside, he was very proud of himself. This was the first customer he'd handled solo, and aside from the minor fact that he'd fallen head over heels for a man he could never have, everything had gone quite well.

Blaine took the garment bag from him and held it carefully over his left shoulder. He looked earnestly at Kurt. "Thank you so much," he said, extending his hand and shaking it, his touch just as warm and smooth as Kurt remembered it from their first meeting. "It really is the nicest thing I own, and I'll wear it very proudly at the wedding."

The word "wedding" cut through Kurt like a knife, but he held Blaine's gaze and his hand for a few seconds longer. Blaine was a wonderful man, from what Kurt had seen, and deep in his heart, he hoped he would be happy. "Best of luck to you," Kurt told him, and he meant it. "And if you ever need another suit…"

"I've got your card," Blaine finished for him. They released each other's hands, and Kurt thought he heard Blaine sigh ever so quietly. "See you, Kurt," Blaine said, giving him one last small smile before walking out the door.

"See you," Kurt whispered after the door had closed behind him.

xoxoxo

"Kurt!" Rachel's shrill voice echoed across their loft. "Kurt!" she yelled again, her voice getting closer as she approached his room and opened the door. "Hey, you with the pillow over your head," she continued, quieter now that she was in the same room. She walked over and pulled the pillow away, ducking to avoid the arm that flailed in her general direction.

"Go 'way" Kurt's muffled voice answered from where his face was buried in the mattress.

"Kurt, your phone has been beeping and buzzing for the last half hour," she complained. "I finally took a look at the screen and you have six missed calls from Franco. Would you please just call him," her plea was punctuated with a thud as she tossed the phone onto the bed next to him. "You can't mope in here forever."

"Yes, I can," Kurt began, before being interrupted by his phone buzzing once more. He lifted his head, finally, and reached out to grab the phone. Sure enough, it was Franco calling once again. Groaning, he sat up and answered the call. "Hi, Franco. What's up?" he said, whipping a pillow at Rachel who was laughing at how bright and normal he sounded on the phone compared to his grumpy demeanor mere seconds ago.

"Uh huh, okay," he said, hastily rising from the bed and starting to rummage for his clothes. "Okay, no worries. I'll be there." He ended the call and tossed the phone back on the bed before hurrying towards the bathroom to clean up.

"Hey, where's the fire?" Rachel called after him.

"I have to run to the shop," he hollered from the other side of the bathroom door. "Last-minute repair job and Franco can't come in."

"Oh," Rachel said, starting to turn back to the kitchen before a thought hit her. "Kurt," she said slowly, walking back to stand right by the bathroom door. "Who needs the repair?" she asked suspiciously.

"What?" came the muffled reply as Kurt brushed his teeth.

"You heard me. Whose suit needs to be repaired?"

She waited a few seconds as the water ran, then stopped. Kurt emerged, hair looking tousled but respectable and his eyes wide. "Um..."

"Oh, no, Kurt. Not him."

"Rach, it's my job," he argued, pushing past her and going back to his room to dress. Rachel considered arguing with him further, but realized it was hopeless. She threw her arms in the air, and grabbed her bag.

"Well, I'm heading to class," she called out. "Just…be careful, Kurt," she finished as she reached the door.

"Rachel?" Kurt said, sticking his head out of his bedroom door and giving her a genuine smile when she turned around. "I'll be careful, I promise." His friend blew him a kiss and left for the day.

An hour later, Kurt was in the shop. Just after he arrived, the doorbell rang, and Kurt looked up with his heart pounding in his ears. He had thought he would never see Blaine again, but here he was, being given one more chance to spend a little time with him. "Hi, Blai…" he cut himself off when he saw that the man who had entered was not, in fact, Blaine.

The stranger was handsome, for sure, but not the handsome man Kurt was expecting. "Oh, hello," Kurt said, correcting himself. "Can I help you?"

"Hi," the man said, giving Kurt a million-watt smile and extending his hand for a quick handshake. "You must be Kurt," he said.

"Yes, yes I am," Kurt answered, a bit confused. "And you are?"

"Cooper Anderson. You've been working with my brother, Blaine, on his tuxedo for my wedding," he replied. "I talked to Franco this morning and told him I needed a repair done to my tuxedo," he continued, holding up the garment bag in his other hand, "and he said you could help me in his place."

"Of course," Kurt answered mechanically, taking the garment bag from Cooper and walking over to hang it to remove the suit. "Exactly what kind of repair do you…wait," he stopped mid-sentence and spun around. "Did you say your wedding?" he asked, his voice going higher than he intended as the man's words registered with him. What also registered at the same time was his conversation with Franco that morning, in which Franco had said he needed Kurt to go to the shop to make repairs to the groom's tuxedo.

"Yes," Cooper said slowly, taken aback by Kurt's question. "My wedding. The one Franco made my tuxedo for. You made the tuxedo for my little brother, Blaine, who is my best man. Any of this ringing a bell for you?"

A/N: Ooh, a little bit of a cliffhanger! Hope you are enjoying so far, and will come back for the conclusion in Chapter Three. (If you want to drop a review to say "Hi," that would be lovely, too!) To those of you who celebrate it, Happy Halloween!