Hello everyone! So, this is a Klaine fic, based on the movie 27 Dresses. It will not be exactly the same plot, since Kurt is a guy, gay, and has no sister, so obviously I'm making changes, but the basic premise is the same. You do not have to have seen the film for this to make sense. There will be some of the same or similar dialogue, and some different, so whatever you recognise is not mine. I guess it's kind of a mix of a crossover with none of the original characters, and like a filling in the gaps thing. I don't know, just give it a go and see what you think.
I really hope you review, I would love to know what you think so far. Thank you for reading.
I do not own Glee, nor do I own the plot of 27 Dresses.
Kurt Hummel loved weddings.
This love had blossomed a few months after Kurt's ninth birthday, on a beautiful, snowing winter's day. His mother had died not long ago, but his father had tried his best to continue life as best he could for the both of them, as well as Rachel.
Rachel Berry grew up next door to Kurt. She never had a real mother of her own, as she her surrogate mother did not stay in contact with her, something that Rachel didn't resent as deeply as she could have but still wished had been different. Her fathers were a great inspiration to Kurt, and perhaps also to his father, who may not have embraced his sexuality quite as well as he did had he not seen a living example of it nearly every day.
As she never had this female figure in her life, Elizabeth Hummel took it upon herself to become like a mother to Rachel. The two families had known each other since Rachel and Kurt were babies, and the two became extremely similar in many respects, but complete opposites in others. Everyone they knew thought of them as brother and sister, and no matter how much they fought, so did they. Hiram and Leroy were like Kurt's loving uncles, the people he always went to about things his father could not understand, and Elizabeth was a mother to both of the children, and loved them through to her last day.
When Kurt's mother died, both children were devastated. At the age of only eight, they could not fully understand how or why it had happened, but were shattered, showing it in very different ways. Kurt became silent, withdrawn, never speaking more than two words to anyone but his father, a disturbing contrast to his former character. Most shocking of all, he stopped singing. This was a real sign to Burt that he was mourning the loss of his mother as much as he was his wife.
Rachel, however, cried buckets, loud and long. She was willing to talk about her pain to anyone who would listen, which was a surprising amount of people. She seemed to gain all the sympathy of the adults around, as they assumed it was much harder for a young girl to lose her mother figure than it was for a boy, and Kurt let her have it. He didn't mind; she was upset, he was upset, and he would much rather be upset in private. He did not want people to feel sorry for him.
Gradually, however, he became bright, stronger. His old self was returning, and he again began to take pleasure in the things he had before. Singing, fashion, cooking, decorating. He knew, at his young age, that this was what his mother would want. She was a musical character, singing and dancing constantly, the house never free of a melody. When it fell silent after her death, Kurt resolved to fill it with his own music, and instantly felt things getting better.
The turning point for Kurt's happiness was that beautiful winter's day. His mother's sister, Anne, was getting married. She lived far, far away, in Toronto, Ontario, in Canada and they hardly ever got to see each other, but Kurt delighted in the moments they did; she was his favourite relative, Auntie Anne. She loved Kurt, and always wore pretty dresses and that bright red lipstick Kurt loved so much. She was the first person he came out to, before Mercedes and his father and even Rachel, because he knew she would understand. She, as Burt had explained to him, was a lesbian, which meant she had a girlfriend. Kurt knew that she would know what he was going through, so he dug out the old address book, and found her name in his mother's curly handwriting, and dialled her number on the phone while his dad was watching a game. He took it down to his room, curled up, and told her everything. He cried, and she cried, and she gave him strength. Strength to be himself, and to tell the truth to his father.
So when Burt announced that they, and the Berry's, were taking a trip over in the holidays for Anne and Julia's wedding, Kurt was ecstatic. The general atmosphere of the wedding amazed him, and the sight of all the flowers and dresses brought a wide smile to his face. His aunt ran up to him and gave him a huge hug, kissing him on his cheeks and leading them to their seats, but inviting Kurt and Rachel back with her to see her dress.
And when she pulled it on to discover, with a shriek, a huge rip in the back, well. That was really the moment that determined Kurt's greatest joy in life. And as he took Rachel's ribbon from her hair and laced it into the back of the dress, he knew that this was what he wanted to do for people.
When Anne squealed and hugged him, calling him a lifesaver and telling him to carry her train, he felt so proud that he was helping someone on the most important day of their life.
And that was the day Kurt Hummel fell in love with weddings.
Then Carole came along, with Finn, who Kurt had developed a huge crush on. Finally, a boy who was nice to him. A cute boy who was nice to him. But Finn ignored Kurt, dismissing him as some guy he had to hang around with because their parents were dating, and went for pretty young Rachel. As always.
But Kurt got over Finn, like he always did, and let Rachel have him. Because Rachel always got what she wanted. He planned Carole and his dad's wedding in a week, and found himself feeling much, much better. He found that celebrating other people's love took his mind off the fact that he didn't have any of his own. And with the amount of people begging him to help them with theirs, he barely had to think about it at all.
He had never again allowed himself to dwell on the idea of a boyfriend, because he knew that if he allowed himself to fall in love, there was so much chance that it would just be taken away. The only other boy he had even felt mild feelings about had been Sam, and he was hopelessly straight. Rachel, of course, had gotten him to be her prom date in a heartbeat.
So when Puckerman suggested he go spy on the Warblers, and he entered the school of intelligent, talented, not to mention extremely attractive young boys, he stopped, turned around and walked out again. That way there was no chance he would be drawn in by the education, and no bullying policy, and fall for another boy in its midst.
Kurt turned to face the woman in the dress, and covered his mouth with his hand.
"Oh, Santana, you look so beautiful!" He gasped, moving closer to skim his hands over the waistline and smooth down the skirt. "The dress is gorgeous, oh my goodness. Wonderful." He clapped his hands together, beaming.
Santana flicked her hair over her shoulder and rolled her eyes, disinterested. "Can I take it off now? White isn't my colour."
Kurt just rolled his eyes at her dismissive attitude, still admiring the dress.
"Mr Hummel?" A woman hurried from the other end of the shop, a phone in her hand. "It's the bride." She whispered, smiling.
Kurt smiled and took the phone from her. "Hello there, my darling."
"Kurt!" The woman said. "How is it? Is it all right? They've hemmed it?"
"Breathe, honey, it's fine." Kurt reassured her soothingly. "Fantastic, even. Lucky you and Santana are the same size." He admired the sight of the bored Latina in the dress once more. "You're going to look so beautiful, Quinn."
"Thank you," Kurt could hear her relax. "Thank you so much for doing this Kurt, you've been so amazing."
"It's no problem." Kurt assured her. "We'll bring the dress right over. I'll see you soon."
"Bye," Quinn said before she hung up. "And thank you."
"Can I get out of this dress now?" Santana asked. Kurt just waved a hand at her as he gave the shop assistant the money, smiling and turning around to see Santana stripping in the middle of the shop, much to the alarm of the assistant.
"Santana, really?" Kurt scolded, as his friend threw the dress at him and pulled her own on. She just shrugged.
"We're the only ones here, it's nothing you haven't seen before." She said dismissively, straightening her purple collared dress to match Kurt's suit. "Ugh, this is horrible."
"It is," Kurt agreed as he took the dress and they hurried out of the shop and across the street. "But this is Quinn's special day. Not ours. And if she wants these purple clothes to match her decorations, then that is her decision."
"You're too understanding sometimes." Santana grumbled, but took his arm as they hailed for a cab.
They arrived at the church, one of the many wedding venues to be found in New York City, and as soon as they walked through the door Quinn ran at him kissing his cheeks and hugging him, taking the dress from his arms and going to get changed.
David approached, hands in his pockets and grinning easily, greeting Kurt and nodding at Santana.
"Thanks for keeping her sane," he said to Kurt. "I know if I had tried to help, I would have messed it all up."
"It was no problem." Kurt smiled at the groom. "Are you nervous?"
"Yes." David admitted. "It's the best feeling in the world, though."
Kurt grinned, embracing him tightly and then letting him go, ushering him towards his place at the alter, waiting for the vicar.
Kurt looked around the wedding, sighing happily, as Santana wandered off to survey the men. He looked at how happy everyone was, how happy they were for Quinn and David. Weddings were so selfless. That's what he loved about them.
"Hey," Santana appeared behind him, pointing at two guys sitting near the front. "Do you want to blonde or the brunet? 'Cause I think the blonde might be gay. He was totally checking David out. And hey, double bonus, if he's checking out a married man he's probably cool with a one night wedding stand."
"God, Santana, can't you keep it in your pants for one wedding?" Kurt scolded, but looking quickly at the men nevertheless.
"Are you kidding? The only reason I'm wearing this monstrous dress is so a drunken groomsmen can rip it to shreds with his teeth." Santana sighed.
Kurt rolled his eyes and pulled Santana over to her place next to him. He was always granted a special place, being, in a way, a male bridesmaid, and, of course, the helper to the bride. He always stood next to the happy couple.
The music began, and a wide smile crossed his face. Quinn stepped into the room, in her beautiful white dress Santana had worn earlier. The room, even Santana, turned to look at Quinn, but Kurt cast his eyes over to David already waiting at the alter. He observed the look on his face, the adoration and warmth and just pure love. Someday someone might look at me like that, he thought, but then quickly shook his head to rid himself of the thought. Quinn walked slowly up the aisle, smiling sweetly, until she was next to David, and the vicar began to speak.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today, in the sight of God…"
Kurt's attention began to wander as he wondered how much time he had before Lola's weddings started. He shifted in the tight, stiff purple suit and tried to subtly shift his arm up to look at his watch. Ten minutes…
"You may kiss the bride."
Kurt clapped as Quinn and David shared a kiss, and as soon as the audience began to get up, he shifted away, and bolted out of the door, hailing a cab.
"Hi there," Kurt said as he climbed into the cab. "Edison ballroom, please. I'll give you $300 for the night if you promise not to look back here. You do that and I'll knock off a twenty."
"Alright…" The driver said suspiciously, but drove anyway. Kurt pulled out his Sherwani he bought specially for the occasion out of his bag, and began to change into it with difficulty. "Wait, what are you doing?"
"Hey!" Kurt said, covering himself with the robe. "You're down to $280, mister!"
He arrived at Lola's wedding and greeted her enthusiastically.
"Kurt!" She squealed. "You're here, thank goodness! Come on, up you go!"
He hurried up to his spot next to the alter and waited patiently, observing his surroundings of the traditional Indian wedding. He sighed happily as the music started, sneaking a peek at his watch again.
It was hard work flitting from wedding to wedding, but the combined forces of Kurt's extreme organizational skills, and the helpful cab driver, he managed to be at both weddings for the vows, the cake cutting, the couple's dance, and, of course the tossing of the bouquet. He stood back politely at Lola's wedding, watching the girls scrabble and jump for the flowers, but at Quinn and David's, he somehow found himself in the middle of the group of excited women without even realising how it happened. Quinn threw the bouquet, laughing, and as the girl next to him jumped a little too far, he was knocked to the ground.
And it all went black.
Kurt came back, blinking, to see the face of a very, very handsome man, smiling amusedly.
He had dark, curly hair, a slightly cocky smile and deep, dark hazel eyes, wow. Kurt was ashamed to admit he swooned a little.
"It's alright, folks, just a little bump on the head," he assured the crowd around Kurt. "Go back to the wedding, he's fine."
"Are you okay?" The handsome man asked, placing a hand on his shoulder and the other in his hand to help him up. "I think you hit your head. Blacked out for a little bit just now."
"Oh… yeah." Kurt cleared his throat. "Got caught in the middle of a bouquet-catching group there."
"Uh huh." The man said. "So you weren't trying to catch it?"
"No." Kurt scoffed, attempting to stand up with the man, but feeling a dizzy sensation in his head before promptly falling into the man's arms. He looked up into the deep brown eyes, framed by those dark, long lashes, blinking and trying to remember how he got there.
"Uh…" Kurt got up again, blushing. "Thank you."
"It's fine." He said, not letting go of Kurt's arm until he was sure he was fully stood up.
The ridiculously handsome man then stuck his hand out, still smiling. Kurt took it and shook slowly, blinking dazedly at him.
The man's warm hand squeezed his. "Blaine."