Eventually, Elizabeth turned on Blaine and started demanding that he give a speech, preferably thanking all of them for 'putting up with his drunk ass and saying such nice things' about him. Blaine smiled, trying to respectfully decline, but he really wasn't given much of an option at a table of seven incessant girls and an ex-boyfriend who was enjoying watching Blaine blush.

"All right, all right!" Blaine said, giving up and standing up. He had been drinking coffee all through their meal and seemed much steadier on his feet than he had been at Madison Square Garden. "First I want to thank all of you for being here, and for throwing me this absolutely farcical four-part bachelor party. Though I am aware that most of the credit goes to the man who knows me best, Kurt, and the pushiest of the women, Elizabeth… it's amazing that you managed to beat Rachel out for that title, it really is," he said to his future sister-in-law, who smiled. "I'm absolutely terrified to find out what else you have planned that tops this, but thank you. The last few weeks have been so hectic that I'm happy to hand the reigns to eight crazy people for a little while and just enjoy the ride." Blaine sat down, ready to end his toast there, but Elizabeth cleared her throat pointedly.

"You have to say something to all of us, future-Holloway, no generics." Kurt could tell that she wouldn't be happy until Blaine's toast to his own wedding party met her expectations, but Blaine didn't seem to mind.

"All right. Michelle, Cathy, Kate, thank you for providing me with blackmail material for the first ten years of my marriage, and I'm really looking forward to getting to know all of Jonathan's friends better once this crazy process is done. Elizabeth, I have a feeling you're going to be insisting on trivialities and bossing my husband and I around for the rest of our natural-born lives, and I'm glad to have you do it. I've always wanted a sister, and you're more than I could have expected." Elizabeth blushed, holding a hand to her heart. "Rachel, I really wish you didn't rehash our drunken mistake and consequent sober mistakes every time you give a speech. My graduation was bad enough." Rachel started laughing at that one. "You've been my dramatic voice of semi-reason for a long time, and I know I wouldn't have gotten through musical studies without you." Rachel half-stood to give a little bow. "Ting-Ting, all mistakes involving Vick's aside, you're one of my best friends, one-third of the McKinley Musketeers, and the reason I stayed sane through my senior year of high school. I'm happy that you're around for one of the most important days of my life, Tay-Tay." Tina smiled at the high school nickname. "Santana, it does not surprise me in the least that you're incapable of turning off the sass for my wedding, but honestly, I wouldn't want you to. It wouldn't be you, Auntie Snixx, without the snark." Santana grinned. "In all honesty, I must be a little masochistic for loving you to pieces, Satan, especially after the speech you gave last night, but we've been through a lot of the same things, and we've only come out stronger for it. Right, Sha-queer-a?"

"Oh, I wanted to kill that bastard," Santana said, and it took Kurt a few moments to remember that she was talking about Sebastian. Everything that had happened at McKinley seemed so long ago.

"Thank you for… being yourself, Salsa Caliente, and cheers." Blaine clinked glasses with Santana. Kurt had always found their friendship a little strange, but Santana had been there for him a lot of the times that Kurt hadn't, so he had never judged.

Blaine then turned to him, and a lump started in Kurt's throat before Blaine even opened his mouth. "I understand what you mean," Blaine said, visibly swallowing a lump of his own. "I don't know what to say, considering everything that's happened, everything I've put you through and vice versa. I… you know me the best out of everyone here, and I have to thank you for being the main opponent of strippers, because that's the last thing I want right now. You are… you're my best friend, Kurt," Blaine was starting to tear up a little, and Kurt could feel himself doing the same, "and I'm glad that we had a horribly stereotypical moment of seeing each other across the platform, right out of Slumdog Millionaire. I can't imagine this last week, or my wedding, without you."

Blaine objected once again that he should know where they were going as they headed to destination three, and all anyone told him was this was the location where he would need his spare clothes, which made Blaine look rather nervous. It was good that Kurt had called ahead, because thanks to the shortening days of September, it was getting dark as they drove over the John Jay Byrne Bridge into Queens. "Where the hell are we going?" Blaine asked as he noticed they weren't headed back into Manhattan.

"All we told you was that we wouldn't be leaving the city," Elizabeth said with a cackle. "In New York, that gives us a lot of options." The girls were doing their best to make martinis in the back of a moving limo, and Kurt was taking this trip to sober up a little. He had promised himself that he would follow Isabelle's advice and let Blaine make all his own decisions, a feat that would be very difficult when alcohol was added to the mix.

Everyone ignored all of Blaine's questions until they pulled up at destination three, being met by a man already dressed for the activity. "I'm guessing you're the… bachelor party?" the guy asked uncertainly, because it was true most bachelor parties did not include so many women, unless they were topless.

"Gay bachelor party," Elizabeth clarified, and Kurt couldn't discern the guy's reaction behind the mask.

"All right then. You guys will be in field C, which is known as the most difficult and most interesting field, and you can change in the bathrooms over there, there's some equipment in those bins." He pointed inside the building to the general areas they were heading towards. "Miranda will be waiting for you on the field to go over the basics of equipment use and safety. Have fun!" the guy said before trotting off.

"Where the hell are we?" Blaine asked, and Kurt finally answered him.

"Indoor Extreme Sports," was all he said, which only made Blaine more nervous.

"To do what?"

"Something a little less girly than hockey and steak. Come on," Kurt said, since the girls had already headed into the building and he and Blaine were the only ones outside.

"What's more masculine than that?" Blaine asked, and Kurt knew the fear in his voice was more about how crazy the girls could be rather than the actual activity.

"Paintball," Elizabeth answered, already decked out in her spare clothes, wearing protection, and holding a paintball gun. "Get ready to go down, Anderson."

The field was just a big room, with a plastic floor that didn't look too painful to fall on, and a bunch of obstacles that reminded Kurt of obstacle courses in middle school gym class. The walls were the white cinderblock of school hallways, and they were draped in dark green sheets that added to their camo, he supposed. Overall, the field was unimpressive, and Kurt would much rather be playing paintball outside a la The Big Bang Theory, but it was dark and they were in New York City, and he would have to make due.

The safety rules were basic. Don't shoot at someone's head, this is how to work the guns, don't shoot people more than a few times at the risk of bruising ribs and such, and have fun. They divided into teams, even though they had an odd number. Elizabeth was the only one who admitted to having any experience with guns, so she was on the short-handed team with Rachel, Cathy, and Tina. Blaine, Santana, Michelle, Kate, and Kurt made up the other team, and they all shook hands before ducking into their forts.

As soon as the first shots were fired it was very clear that Santana had some experience with guns, and Elizabeth was out within moments. Rachel seemed afraid of her gun, but Tina and Santana were in a shoot-out within minutes, and Michelle and Kate ganged up on Cathy. Blaine was grinning like a madman every time he pulled up his visor, and that made the bruises everyone would have for the wedding the next day seem worth it.

Paintball, everyone realized after a few minutes in the limo, was rather painful. Yes, there was adrenaline that kept one going while playing, trying to hit members of the other team and simultaneously avoid friendly or enemy fire. Once they sat around in the limo for a few minutes and the adrenaline-high wore down, they started to realize they would have bruises tomorrow. Hopefully nowhere that would be seen in their dresses.

"You girls are crazy," Blaine said, holding a hand to his stomach, where Elizabeth had shot him particularly hard in the locker room before he had put on his gear, something she had been firmly lectured on by the safety people at Indoor Extreme Sports. "Destination four isn't another attempt to out-manly yourselves, is it? Because I'm seriously starting to wonder if any of you actually have uteruses."

"If I didn't, it probably wouldn't hurt so much," Rachel complained to laughter, holding a hand to her own stomach. Kurt had shot her with a barrage of paintballs, something he didn't feel remotely guilty about. She had almost hit him in the side of the head, a definite no-no.

"And no, the last one is not about being masculine," Tina answered, seeming the least hurt of everyone in the limo. "The last one is about music and alcohol and fun, and we're sure you'll love it."

"Fantastic," Blaine said, one of the very few times he had been sincere throughout the entire party. "How are you not hurting right now?" he asked her.

"I did roller derby for a bit during college," Tina answered. "This is nothing compared to being tossed down on a wooden rink or over a metal railing by a bunch of aggressive, muscled feminists."

"That sounds absolutely terrifying," Blaine breathed, making everyone laugh.

"And you can relax about your prejudice, Anderson, the last one's in Manhattan," Santana assured him as they got on the Long Island Expressway. "You'll be back in your element very soon."

"Greenwich Village." Blaine could tell by looking out the window, apparently. "We're like… ten feet from NYU. Please tell me we're not going to some crappy college bar. I'm already getting married, I don't need to feel any older."

"We're not going to a crappy college bar," Elizabeth assured him as the limo drove down 3rd Street through New York University. "We're going to a bar most people don't even know exists."

"Do I get to know the name?" Blaine asked.

"In 3… 2…" The limo stopped in front of their fourth and last destination, and Blaine raised his eyebrows at the entrance.

"The Village Underground?"

"Live music, dance space, liquor, no college kids. What more could you ask for?" Elizabeth asked as they all got out of the limo, which would wait outside and drive all of them home.

"I would say, 'I trust you,' but it's not true," Blaine said as they stared up at the doors. "It's really more like 'my life is in your hands.'"

"Pretty much," she agreed as she tapped the buzzer and the heavy metal doors opened for her. The doors closed alarmingly close behind them, effectively shutting out the sounds of the city, and Elizabeth led the way forward, down the stairs and into the main area of the bar.

The internet had not oversold the place. The atmosphere was dark and a little crowded, bar shoved over into the corner with only a few stools. There were some tables at the back and a hardwood dance floor in the front of the stage. The place was filled with people, some of whom Kurt immediately labeled hipsters, but others who just seemed to be having fun. The stage was the most interesting part, a few musicians up there setting up. Guitars hung behind them, against the brick backdrop, and speakers stood to either side. "Just so you know, this is, right now, at this very moment, there is some of the realist shit happenin' of all time on this stage because of these great musicians," the man in the middle said as he began to pluck at his guitar. "Tonight's a lazy night, and we're not doing anything special, so sit back and relax. I know you know this one." There was some cheering as he started to pluck out the chords for Damien Rice's Cannonball, but everyone settled down as he began to play. His voice was good, if a bit rough, and after watching him for a few bars, Elizabeth darted to the back and started to pull together tables for them. Rachel and Santana went straight to the bar, Cathy joining them. Tina stayed and watched the band play, apparently mesmerized, Kate staying with her. Michelle was already talking to a guy, and judging by the fact that Cathy was pointing to her and rolling her eyes, talking to Santana, it was characteristic.

"This has been a truly spectacular night," Blaine said, not moving, eyes darting around the bar. "I can't believe I'm saying it, but I'm actually really glad you hosted my bachelor party. Cooper scares me a little bit sometimes."

"To be honest, I've been hoping this whole night that he's out there somewhere right now, maybe in Vegas, scaring the shit out of Jonathan," Kurt said, and Blaine just smiled in reply.

"I know you're tipsy since you just swore, but want a drink? I could stay here for a while," Blaine said approvingly, and Kurt nodded. The tenor headed off, clapping him on the shoulder as he departed, before Kurt could order anything specifically, but Blaine knew him well enough to pick out something he would like.

"So, has he made you best man yet?" Santana asked sassily, drink in hand as she wandered over towards Kurt, ignoring several pairs of eyes, both male and female, raking over her Amanda Uprichard cutout-waist dress.

"He does have a brother," Kurt said, ignoring the spirit of Santana's question and focusing on the letter. "And it's the day before the wedding. If he tried to make any changes now, his head would explode."

"And you, oh devoted ex, would be the one picking up pieces of Blaine brain from all over the underground," Santana commented. Kurt knew what she was trying to say, that he had been far too involved with the wedding for someone who hadn't seen Blaine for years, someone who was once in love with him. The problem was she hadn't been around during the last week, considering everyone he knew had something to say about him reconnecting with Blaine.

Before she could get in any last comment, Blaine walked over with a tall glass of something red for Kurt, having only a beer for himself. "Here you go," he said as he handed it over, giving Kurt no hints as to the content.

"You're not going to tell me what it is, are you?" Kurt asked with a roll of his eyes.

"Small vengeances," Blaine confirmed his suspicions with a grin. "It's a Remember Last Summer. Just drink it." Putting trust in his former best friend, Kurt took a sip, humming his approval. It was sweet, and obviously not very strong, but it left a pleasantly tropical aftertaste. "It's Absolut Vanilia, strawberry liqueur, pineapple juice, and coconut cream," Blaine told him as the tenor chugged a good portion of his own beer. "Very bachelorette party-esque."

The feminine half of the wedding party had spent four hours in the Village Underground, and the more drinks they consumed, the more amusing the sights around Kurt became. Tina, Kate, Cathy, and Santana had become groupies for the band, standing in the front of the dance floor to cheer and stare up at them in awe while they played, talking to them between sets and acting like over-excited teenage girls faced with… One Direction was the most current fad Kurt could think of, which was sad. He had been out of the music world for too long. Michelle had long since disappeared, presumably with one of the ten guys she had attracted by walking into the room in a simple, black, square-neck, belted, pleated Alexander McQueen dress. Rachel and Elizabeth were doing shots and declaring their eternal love for one another.

Blaine had been up and around, talking to various strangers and getting to know the band and doing shots with Rachel and Elizabeth until Kurt pulled him away, reminding him that he was on the verge of being extraordinarily drunk, the kind of drunk that led him to make bad decisions. Kurt had mostly been Blaine's ward, drinking light, fruity drinks and keeping an eye on the groom-to-be to make sure he didn't do anything stupid. Kurt was buzzed, but still capable of walking, and once he had convinced Blaine to take half an hour and drink some water, Blaine was still drunk enough to be tactile and ridiculous, but was standing on his own two feet.

Blaine and Kurt were currently sitting at one of the tables in the back, both sporting a beer and watching Blaine's bridesmaids have fun. "Come on," Blaine said suddenly at the tail end of Eight Days a Week, holding out a hand to Kurt. "Let's go dance." Blaine flashed him with a dazzling grin and Kurt found himself accepting the hand and getting to his feet. "We don't want to be the sticklers at my own bachelor party, after all." Blaine was still holding his hand as they weaved between tables and reached the dance floor, but Kurt was used to it. Some things never changed.

Love you every day, girl
Always on my mind
One thing I can say, girl
Love you all the time
Hold me, love me
Hold me, love me
Ain't got nothing but love, babe
Eight days a week
Eight days a week
Eight days a week

Kurt and Blaine danced along as the song drew to a close, clapping in the right spots and generally having a good time. Santana and Kate quickly joined them on the dance floor, and they kept dancing for a good half an hour, the four forming a little square and generally just making terrible fools out of themselves. The band chose good songs to dance to, but they were all a little beyond coordination, and Santana was just sloppy.

Santana and Cathy just laughed and latched onto one another when a slow song came on, but it felt like more of a decision for Kurt and Blaine. Kurt eyed his ex-boyfriend, because the last moment they'd had like this had been at Mr. and Mrs. Schuester's first attempt at a wedding, and it had ended in a hotel room. That couldn't happen, not tonight.

Eventually, Blaine made the decision, putting his hands on Kurt's hips and keeping his ex at a reasonable distance as they began to twirl to the song, coordinated enough at least for the easy dance. Kurt let his hands rest on Blaine's shoulders, made uncomfortable more by the situation than the actual action of dancing with Blaine… everything with Blaine felt easy. But he could feel Rachel's judgmental eyes on him, and probably Elizabeth's, too.

Well, you only need the light when it's burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go

"This feels weird, doesn't it?" Blaine asked, pulling Kurt a little closer as the song continued. "Reminds me of…" Blaine trailed off, like he didn't want to make the situation more awkward.

"We've Got Tonite," Kurt finished his sentence, and that night only brought back painful memories for everyone.

"I'm sorry," Blaine muttered, the first person who was brave enough to bring it up in more than a passing sense to Kurt after so long. "I know how much it hurts, how much you miss him, how much you love him…" Blaine pulled him even closer, almost hugging him instead of dancing, and Kurt couldn't help but melt into the embrace, the familiar feel of Blaine's arms around him and Blaine's warm scent surrounding him.

"Thank you," Kurt whispered into Blaine's neck, and even when Blaine released him from the hug, they were tight together, dancing properly, the way they would have if things had been different.

You see her when you close your eyes
Maybe one day you'll understand why
Everything you touch surely dies

"I was wrong, you know," Blaine murmured, and suddenly he switched on Kurt, wrapping his arms around the countertenor's neck. Kurt didn't argue, sliding his hands down Blaine's sides until they rested on his muscular waist. The tenor didn't elaborate, so Kurt had to ask. "I was wrong about us," Blaine said only slightly more helpfully. "On the train one day or something, I told you I was sorry we didn't end up together because we aren't the perfect fit." Blaine pulled Kurt even closer, so close they were barely dancing, resting his head in the crook of Kurt's neck. "But we are. We are a perfect fit."

"Blaine-" Kurt tried to stop him, because this conversation was taking a very bad turn. The kind of turn it wouldn't have taken without beer and vodka shots and the song and the low lighting and the lead singer's voice sweeping over the room, so soft Kurt more felt it than heard it. Which… didn't make sense. But he was drunk. And so was Blaine. Which is why neither of them should be talking like this.

"Are you sorry?" he asked.

"That we didn't end up together?" Kurt asked, not really sure of his answer no matter the question.

"That you said no," Blaine murmured, his breath hot against Kurt's neck. "That we broke up like that. That we avoided each other for so long." Kurt didn't know what to say to any of that, starting to twirl again and trying not to focus too much on… anything, really. Especially the feel of Blaine wrapped in his arms. A perfect fit.

Staring at the ceiling in the dark
Same old empty feeling in your heart
'Cause love comes slow and it goes so fast

Well, you see her when you fall asleep
But never to touch and never to keep
'Cause you loved her too much
And you dived too deep

"Kurt…" Blaine whispered, and Kurt knew he wanted all of those answers.

"Blaine, you're getting married tomorrow," Kurt replied, looking out across the dance floor instead of down at his ex. "It doesn't matter." That, he knew, was enough of an answer for someone who knew him as well as Blaine did.

Blaine straightened up a little, removing his face from Kurt's neck and instead looking Kurt in the eye. Kurt met his gaze, having nowhere else to look. "I'm sorry, too," he said, his eyelids lowered, looking up at Kurt through long eyelashes.

'Cause you only need the light when it's burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go

"Blaine…" Kurt said again, because Blaine's gaze was deep and sad and dark and a little drunk, and Kurt could almost see the wheels in his head turning. "You shouldn't be sorry."

"But I am," he said, and it happened almost before Kurt could stop it.

It wasn't like the first time. Blaine didn't slow or hesitate or give Kurt a chance to say no. He slid one hand from Kurt's neck to the back of his head, pulling Kurt down and connecting their lips in a kiss that was desperate and longing and all the things Kurt had seen in Blaine's eyes that he was terrified of. But it was also sweet and soft and made Kurt long for the times when Blaine had kissed him every day, the soft, reverent kisses of someone who couldn't believe their luck.

Blaine ran his tongue over Kurt's bottom lip, and Kurt couldn't stop, didn't want to stop, thanks to the alcohol, and Kurt deepened the kiss, pulling Blaine as close as he could without breaking the laws of physics, giving up the premise of dancing all together. Blaine's kisses were warm and slow and heartbreakingly familiar.

Blaine pulled away eventually, eyes still closed in what looked a lot like bliss. "Kurt…"

"I'm going to go," Kurt said, releasing his ex-boyfriend. "This… this was a bad idea, Blaine."

"I know," was all Blaine said as he opened his eyes. "But you didn't stop me."

Kurt didn't say anything else, pulling away from Blaine and walking as quickly as he could out of the bar. Kurt walked up the stairs, out onto the street, and ignored the limo entirely, not wanting to wait. He hailed a taxi, rattled off his address on auto-pilot, and sat back, closing his eyes.

He saw Blaine leaving behind him, probably not wanting to deal with the fallout from his fiancé's sister and all of his closest friends. Blaine's taxi followed Kurt's for a while, but Kurt wasn't thinking about it. He hadn't stopped to turn around, but he had been able to feel Blaine watching him walk away. He also knew Rachel and Elizabeth and Santana and all of them had seen that kiss… but he couldn't worry about that right now.

Because Blaine was getting married tomorrow.

Only know you've been high when you're feeling low
Only hate the road when you're missin' home
Only know you love her when you let her go

And you let her go

A/N: MWAHAHAHAHAHA! *cough* So, I will be out of state next Friday (and yes, I know it's Sunday, and I'm sorry), so I won't be able to update until Monday.

Songs used/mentioned:
'Cannonball' by Damien Rice (mentioned)
'Eight Days a Week' by The Beatles
'We've Got Tonite' by Bob Seger (in the style of Glee; mentioned)
'Let Her Go' by Passenger

Reviews are Love.