"You know I'll love it no matter what you're wearing."

"Still, please?"

"No, Kurt, seriously. You could come down here wearing a pink bunny suit and I guarantee I would still find you incredibly attractive."

An exasperated sigh carried itself down the stairs. "Your bunny-fetishes are beside the point. Shut your eyes."

"Kurt-"

"Shut them."

Blaine laughed to himself, setting the little box containing Kurt's boutonnière (a red rose with two smaller white roses, picked with help from his mother) onto the table. He squeezed his eyes shut.

"Okay, Kurt. Dazzle me."

"Oh, I shall."

He heard the excited patter of Kurt's feet as he trotted down the stairs. "Okay! Open in 3...2..."

Blaine had to admit, he was getting pretty excited to see why Kurt was so insistent on him shutting his-

"...1! Ta-da!"

Oh.

Oh.

Kurt gave another twirl. "Like it?"

Blaine merely gaped at his boyfriend, who was clad in a dusky black suit jacket, brilliant red tie and white dress shirt. The crisp material hugged his torso flatteringly, the collar veering off to reveal the smooth porcelain skin of his perfect throat. Heart thudding at the mere sight of his boyfriend, Blaine let his eyes wander down his body to marvel once more at the red-and-black wrap around his thighs that just kissed the tops of his knee-high socks. Yes, Blaine gulped, surveying Kurt's dazzling smile and demure curtsey, My boyfriend is wearing... a kilt. To the prom.

And it's kind of really hot.

"Uh, Blaine?"

"Mhmm?"

Kurt chuckled lightly, running down the stairs to drape his arms around Blaine's midnight blue-jacket-clad shoulders to deliver a sweet kiss to his nose, as his mouth was still slightly agape.

He smiled, placing a finger beneath Blaine's slightly stubbly chin to close his mouth with a muffled clunk of his teeth.

"I take it you like the kilt?" Kurt queried as he locked his hands behind his boyfriend's neck.

Blaine was still struggling to find appropriate words that would not be classified as guttural sounds as he placed his hands at Kurt's hips, unable to resist stroking at the fuzzy tartan material of the kilt's hem. "I-you-Kurt, I just-I-"

Kurt shushed Blaine with a deep kiss, biting back the urge to tangle his fingers in Blaine's hair as he pushed their bodies together. Because yeah, Blaine looked damn sexy in a suit and Kurt already knew how attractive he looked when he was all cleaned up like that, what with the dapper Dalton Academy uniform Blaine was so partial to, but the fact that Kurt knew Blaine had dressed up like this- all musky cologne and short stubble and sumptuous suit- especially for him? Little old Kurt Hummel?

Yep, that was a gigantic turn on.

Blaine's grip on Kurt's hips tightened as he opened his mouth to Kurt's and brushed their tongues together, Kurt's bare knee finding its way to press up between Blaine's legs. Blaine couldn't suppress a tiny moan. He didn't know why, but he was getting ridiculously turned on by this whole situation. And then Kurt giggled. Blaine loved it when Kurt giggled. Sliding his hands to press against Kurt's ass, Blaine tried desperately to get even closer to him, wrenching his mouth open, tasting him, touching him everywhere until he could barely breathe.

Kurt pulled away first. "We need to stop. If my dad comes in-"

"We'll kick him out".

Blaine barely left Kurt any opportunity to grunt in reply before he lunged forward and sucked at his lower lip, scraping his teeth across the swollen flesh and causing Kurt to gasp in response. His hands explored Blaine's chest as he tilted his head back, gently freeing his heavily chewed lip, and proceeded to attack Blaine's mouth with a wet, desperate kiss. Using his hips as a method of steering him, Blaine advanced upon Kurt and threw him against the heavy front door, mouth still attached to his. They were kissing so urgently that neither boy was sure where they ended and the other began. Kurt's skin was slick with sweat, his tartan kilt beginning to tent, but he merely flipped Blaine around so that the shorter boy was now pinned instead. Smirking, Kurt grabbed his wrists and yanked them above his head so he could suck and bite at the small portion of Blaine's neck that was not obscured by his dress shirt.

"Fuck, Kurt," Blaine breathed, hips bucking uncontrollably as Kurt began rutting against Blaine's thigh.

"Sorry about this," Kurt whispered against Blaine's now damp neck, licking firmly at his perfect jawline, "You know I like it when you wear suits."

Blaine merely whimpered. Every nerve ending in his body was on fire as Kurt moved to speak against his lips. "In fact, I love it."

That was it. Blaine ripped his hands out of Kurt's grasp and gripped the backs of his thighs, pressing him closer. Their hips were locked together, and Kurt kept rocking against Blaine over and over again, hands cradling the back of his neck and tugging at stray curls. Blaine knew better than to thread his fingers into Kurt's immaculately styled hair, so instead he settled for cupping his perfect butt over that weirdly sexy kilt and flicking his tongue skillfully inside Kurt's warm mouth.

Honestly, Blaine would have been happy to skip prom entirely and spend the night ravishing Kurt in the main hallway of his house. Who needs a stupid dance when you have this? Arms totally encasing his boyfriend and tongues still dueling competitively, his teenage boy hormones were having some definite influence over his thought processes right now.

Until he heard a bedroom door upstairs swing open.

"Dammit," Blaine groaned mournfully against Kurt's lips, ducking beneath his arms and turning away to face the mirror so he could fix his tie. Somehow it had gone askew during their little uh, hello greeting. Kurt wiped a hand across his mouth and smoothed his kilt as his father and stepmother, Carole, came bounding down the stairs. At the sight of Kurt and Blaine's seemingly sweet little glances at each other in the mirror, the older couple were positively beaming.

"You boys look gorgeous!" Carole clutched Burt's arm as she hastily took a picture of her newly acquired son and his boyfriend about to depart for their junior prom.

Kurt peered into the mirror behind Blaine and winked at him. "He sure does."

"Yep, you do."

"Shut up, Blaine."

"I shall do nothing of the sort."

They both blushed even more than they already were when Carole literally squealed, rushing over to them and affectionately stroking both their cheeks. "Why are you so pink, boys? Is the house a little warm? Burt, honey, I told you not to turn the heaters on!"

"What? Finn turned them on last night and I didn't know where the controls were."

Carole heaved a sigh. Kurt and Blaine offered a dry laugh as she rolled her eyes at them expressively before hooking her arm through Burt's and directing him to the heater controls.

Blaine leaned into the touch when Kurt reached down to brush a curl away from Blaine's forehead, grinning proudly. He returned the sentiment by standing on his tiptoes to deliver a quick smooch to Kurt's cheek. Blaine had already decided against inquiring about the kilt. Because evidently, he didn't mind it at all.

"Burning up a little there, Hummel?"

"Nope. It's just you, Anderson."

"I know it is."

"Oh, shut up."

Chuckling, Blaine slid his arm around Kurt's waist and gave his kilt-clad ass a light slap before using his previous reply. "I shall do nothing of the sort."