AN: The prompt, from jerzeyredhead: "Kurt Hummel helping Santana get ready for a first date in NYC. Go! #MakeItSassy :)"
"If you don't get your lady-hands off of me, I'm going to break them."
Kurt ignored the jab and finished tucking the back of Santana's white button-down shirt into her tight, black skirt. "Your pickup line needs work."
He stepped back and admired his handiwork, and watched in the mirror as Santana inspected the outfit he chose. "I look like a cocktail waitress," she snapped, tearing the shirt over her head without bothering to unbutton it.
Kurt tilted his head, confused as to why his comment didn't elicit a response. His eyes widened in realization. "Oh my God, you're actually nervous!"
Santana kept her eyes in her closet as she rifled through the hangers and hissed, "Santana Lopez doesn't do nervous."
"Mmmhm." Kurt joined her in front of the seemingly neverending collection of dresses. She was taking a hanger out, considering the dress for a beat, then tossing it behind her onto a growing pile, then back to step one again. "How did you meet this one?"
"She's in the class after mine at NYADA. She told me I was the best dancer in my class, which, duh. Anyway, she was hot, so I stayed and watched some of her class - a musical theatre class - and Kurt, she can SING. She'd give you and Berry a run for your money. I'll deny it if you ever repeat it, but she might even be better than me."
When Santana threw a glance at Kurt, she saw panic flash on his eyes. "Don't get your panties in a bunch, she's a year ahead of us." Santana held out a green striped dress and considered it for a second before adding it to the heap.
Kurt visibly relaxed. "Ooh, a cougar!"
"Shut up, Hummel, she's barely a year older."
"Hopefully you had less bite in your bark when you demanded she go on a date with you."
Santana pulled a form-fitting blue dress over her head and took advantage of the brief moment her face was covered to mumble, "She asked me out."
Kurt raised an eyebrow as he stepped forward to zip the back of her dress. "Am I translating that muffled confession correctly? She beat you to the punch?"
Santana ignored him and inspected herself in the mirror. "What about this with my short, black jacket and black boots?"
Kurt gave her the once-over and said, "No jacket, your big black belt with the silver buckle instead. Santana nodded in approval and dove back in her closet to find the belt and boots.
"Santana, I'm going to need more details." When no response came from the brunette, Kurt turned on the whine he knew annoyed his roommate to no end. "Pleaaase? The rest of the story is the least you can offer in exchange for my invaluable fashion advice. Someday, people will be paying thousands of dollars for my opinions." Kurt flashed Santana a hopeful smile as she slid the belt around her waist and fastened it.
"I thought you were helping me to thank me for not smothering Berry in her sleep after she got a bad grade in her ballet class and performed all of Evita in our living room."
"No, that's what the wine in the kitchen is for."
Santana sat on the bed and paused midway through putting a boot on. "Fine, pour me a glass and I'll tell you what you want to know. "
Kurt clapped giddily and bounced towards the kitchen. Santana rolled her eyes and called out after him, "Try not to get any glitter in the glass, fairy boy!"
Kurt didn't miss a beat before his singsong voice floated in from the other room, "Wouldn't waste my fairy dust on a wicked witch!"
Santana tried to hide the smile that was threatening to take over her face. She'd rather have her toenails ripped out than admit it, but she was glad for his company while she got ready. Truth be told, she was nervous. This was the first time in a long time she was interested in someone for something other than just sex. And with this girl, it was something she couldn't even put her finger on.
She finished putting on her boots just as Kurt returned with two wine glasses partially filled with red wine. Kurt handed her one and raised his, "To first dates."
Santana lifted her glass to meet his with a clink, "And roommates."
Kurt smiled and made his way to the bed, dramatically crossing his legs and leaning back slightly on one hand, "Now, spill."
Santana took a big sip of her wine before setting it on the dresser. She was glad she could apply her makeup while she talked, avoiding eye contact, but occasionally checking her roommate's reactions in the mirror. She told him about a few of their bantering exchanges, about the way she took Santana by surprise when she asked her out, and that they were meeting at Ginger's, since neither of them had been to the gay bar, even though they both lived in Brooklyn. Santana caught herself before she confessed the way the girl's hint of a British accent from her childhood in England made Santana smile involuntarily when they were talking, or the way her green eyes sparkled when she got excited made Santana's heart flip. She figured she'd wait to see how the date went before giving Kurt too much ammo.
When she was done with her makeup, she picked up her wine glass and stood back, taking in her reflection once more.
"Flawless, darling."
Santana smiled and put a hand on her hip. "Obviously."
While Santana transferred a few select items from her big, everyday purse into a smaller one that went with her outfit, Kurt prattled on about how excited he was, how he almost misses the rush of a first date, how it's been so long since he's been on a date at all...
"Hey, princess, cut that out. I have to leave, I don't have time to listen to you sob about how much you miss your Warbler."
"Right, no, sorry. I'm just excited for you. I expect to get the full rundown when you get home so I can live vicariously."
Santana rolled her eyes and pulled open the door to their loft apartment. "Try not to wear out the Moulin Rouge DVD tonight."
Kurt stood leaning against the doorway, wistfully watching her go down the hall. "Have fun, be yourself! Well, maybe a slightly nicer version of yourself, for the first date at least."
Santana let out a laugh that echoed down the hallway. She paused at the top of the stairwell and turned back to face her roommate. "Thanks, Kurt."
Kurt nodded at her, "You're quite welcome."
Santana stood up straight and flipped her long hair over her shoulder. "Don't wait up," she joked, winking at Kurt before disappearing down the stairs.
AN: Thanks for reading! Just for good measure: I don't own Glee, Santana, Kurt, nor their ginormous loft apartment.