Another tiny little cute thing! First person this time! This was sooo fun to write! I absolutely adore it :D Fashion!Klaine :P
Pattern
The jeans he wore were bright blue. Seriously. They weren't even denim. How am I supposed to deal with a boyfriend who wears jeans that are bright blue. They shouldn't even be classified as jeans. They are slacks. That's how not normal they are. I, Kurt Hummel, the mastermind of all things mens fashion, say those pants have gotta go.
'Blaine,' I said, in a voice that I hoped didn't sound too condescending. 'What the hell are you wearing?'
'These? I bought them at the store the other day. You were there.'
I raise an eyebrow. 'If I was there, I would not have allowed you to buy them. Those are a monstrosity to your wallet. Please, take them back now.'
'But Kurt,' he says, and I brace myself, because any sentence that comes from Blaine's lips and starts with the phrase "but Kurt" in that kind of tone, will not end in hugs and kisses. 'They're just jeans.'
'They also are eggshell blue. And I think I can see the hint of a pattern in the back pocket. A red and blue check.'
He furrows his eyebrows in confusion. 'Yeah, they've got the same for lining. They're really warm and we're coming into winter...'
I reach for the waistband of the "jeans", looping my fingers through the belt hooks. 'Look at this,' I say. 'You're a teenager, Blaine. You're supposed to wear jeans that hug your hips, not your ribs.'
He pouts, and it is kind of adorable, but this argument is about the pants. 'You told me you hated the guys that wore their jeans around the ankles.'
'Yes, but also, wearing them this high makes you look like you need to find your time machine and get back to your own generation. Very dapper, but also very... grandpa-ish.'
Blaine grabs my hands, holding them up in front of his face and kissing each of my fingers delicately. 'They also come with suspenders,' he whispers.
And then we're both laughing. His hands slide around my back, pulling me closer to him and he presses a rough kiss on my lips.
'Let me keep the pants,' he murmurs.
'Fine,' I reply. 'So long as you don't wear them in public.'