"You're not wearing that today, are you?"

Kurt looked up from pulling on his socks and glanced appreciatively at the outfit hanging on the hook he had installed by their closet for just that purpose. He was going to look fabulous today.

"Why?"

Blaine didn't say anything for a moment and Kurt looked in his direction. He was still in his sweats and an old Dalton sweatshirt he had pulled from somewhere.

"Kurt, honey, you do know it's about twenty degrees outside now, right? Probably colder if you factor in the wind chill."

Kurt rolled his eyes and reached for his new wool trousers. "That's what layers are for, Blaine. Why else do you think I'm wearing this awful long underwear?"

"Kurt, you complain about being cold when the heat is cranked up and we're cuddled under a blanket."

Kurt sighed. His boyfriend was so oblivious sometimes.

"Honey, what tends to happen after I complain about how cold it is?"

"You sneak a hand under my shirt and then – oh."

"Yes, oh."

Kurt popped the collar of his shirt and slid his favorite skull-patterned scarf around his neck, swiftly tying it into a cravat and pinning it in place with one of his mom's old brooches.

"Still. I don't want you to catch cold."

"Aww."

"I'm serious."

"Honey, remember my friend Julie I'm always talking about? She managed – oh, you won't believe it. I can barely believe it! She managed to score us tickets to the McQueen show at Lincoln Center today," Kurt couldn't help squealing at that. Even Blaine looked excited for him.

"Kurt, that's incredible!"

"You know I've always wanted to go to Fashion Week, and the fact that I get to go to this show… I can't go looking anything less than amazing."

Blaine smiled. "You always look amazing."

Kurt unsuccessfully smothered an adoring look.

"Are you trying to earn points or something?"

"I guess I just love you."

Kurt tilted his head and gave in to the urge to kiss his boyfriend.

"I love you too," he murmured. "But I'm still wearing this."

Blaine laughed. "Fine, but you're not allowed to complain to me if you do get sick. You'll find no sympathy here."

"Such a charmer," Kurt rolled his eyes and straightened the lapels on his jacket. Fashionistas didn't get sick.

He came to regret that thought for the entire next week.

For those of you not in the US, 20 degrees Fahrenheit is equal to about -6 degrees Celsius. And I'm invoking the future for having a McQueen runway show at New York Fashion Week. Yeah.

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