Chapter 21: Suits
Being invited over the Hummel house has become an awfully informal affair. Blaine still knocks on the front door and waits to be let in. However, there is not much decorum with how he is greeted. Kurt will answer the door barefoot, a snack still be chewed, and just expect Blaine to enter and close the door behind himself. Sometimes Burt answers and just directs Blaine off to wherever Kurt is. That happened today.
"He's up in his room, kid," Burt had said, attention already turning back to whatever was playing out on the TV.
Kurt's door is half opened and Kurt's sitting cross-legged on the bed. He looks up at Blaine's entrance. Blaine closes the door. The click is loud.
Breathless as Blaine is about to be, Kurt says, "I'm going to New York."
Blaine forces his legs to move and not collapse. He sits next to Kurt on the bed, a foot away.
"It terrifies me," Kurt says, grabbing Blaine's arm. "It's the least safe option. But… but that's why I have to do it."
"I understand," Blaine says.
"I'm tired of letting fear holding me back."
Blaine nods.
"I was afraid of you," Kurt says. Blaine turns to him. Kurt grins. "I'm so glad I faced that down." Kurt maneuvers up onto his knees and edges closer to Blaine. He cups his chin. "Just don't pull away from me again. I'm not down for that bullshit."
Blaine laughs, and Kurt kisses the corner of his upturned lips.
"I won't be leaving Lima until next September, maybe August. That's a lot of time. We can make it count."
"And after?" Blaine dares to ask.
"We'll figure it out then."
Blaine leans in, kissing Kurt hard; Kurt didn't seem to mind. They slid down on the bed. Blaine wants to memorize the taste of Kurt's mouth and skin because if he can he won't be so lonely when Kurt inevitably leaves him behind.
…
How cruel time is, stretching long during their hours apart, sprinting past in their minutes together... and always, always, marching on. Calculus class is long, dinner with his parents on non-date nights is long, and Kurt's shifts (he's forbidden Blaine from coming and distracting him unless he has a legitimate car concern) at the shop are long. Kurt speaking in rapid-fire, snarky French (Blaine's grade has gone up just in his effort to understand half of what Kurt says) during their single shared class, Kurt enjoying lunch with the glee club as he fused into the group, their dating hours fit in between school work and work work and family time... all these were wickedly, deceptively fleeting.
Every minute is a step towards graduation and Kurt going away to college and Blaine's heart dying. (Blaine might be overdramatic here, but he doesn't care about that. He cares about Kurt).
If there is one upside to the shortage of time, even if there is all of summer break and the final month of school yet, it's how Kurt can't quite take his hands off Blaine for long. Movie nights, eating out, studying … they can all be damned. Anytime the two of them are alone together, Kurt pretty much pounces. They would make out, and if time and privacy warranted, get each other off in a variety of ways excepting full-on, penetrative sex.
"It's kinda scary," Kurt says, giggly, during some post-coital bliss. Blaine pets at his side. "How much I crave you… how much I crave doing this with you…"
"It's not a bad thing," Blaine replies, because in these moments spent so close and intimate with Kurt, he can't be upset by how impermanent these moments were.
"I know." He turns his head, kisses Blaine's shoulder. "I just never thought of myself as a slave to baser instincts."
Blaine snorts. "Who talks like that… right after? I can't even put sentences together."
"Shut up," Kurt says and Blaine savors his voice like it's true sustenance. Let him never forget a sinlge cadence of Kurt's voice. If only he were a poet, Blaine would find the words to describe them. Or a painter, he would depict them in the most vivid colors. But Blaine is neither of those; he is a singer, but only of other people's words.
"You thinking hard there?" Kurt asks, rubbing a thumb at Blaine's elbow.
"Just thinking about you."
…
Nominations for prom king and queen are announced, and there are all sorts of drama attached, even inside the glee club, but it's all outside Kurt and Blaine's concerns.
"I can count on you vote, right?" Santana asks.
"I'm undecided," Blaine says.
"Not asking you, asking you." She points at Kurt.
"Me? Why would I vote for you?"
"Because we have a thing." She waves a hand between the two of them.
"What thing?" Kurt asks, eyes narrowing.
Santana rolls her eyes. "A begrudging respect for being the two biggest bitches on the block."
Blaine says, "Don't call my boyfriend a bi—"
Santana shushs him. "I don't expect you to vote for me, shortstop, so I'm not wasting my breath on you."
"How about this," Kurt says. "We stop having this conversation right now, and I'lll vote for you."
Santana considers this for half a second. "Deal," she says as she stands and struts off.
Blaine doesn't care about the prom king and queen voting, being as distracted as he is imagining Kurt in a suit. There are two opposite ways to imagine a man that made him instantly sexier: dressed up or dressed down. Blaine has experienced dressed down Kurt, but not opposite.
And of course they would be attending prom together… With how glued together the two of them had been lately, it hadn't even occurred to Blaine to think otherwise.
A week later, when Mercedes retells the sweet tale of Sam asking her to prom (although she's the senior, and by all rights she should be asking him, the junior) does Blaine's balloon of delusion get popped…
"So, how'd Kurt ask you?" Mercedes asks, chin propped up on her hand, her eyes still in dreamland.
"Oh, um." Blaine sits up straight. "He's hasn't."
Mercedes cocks her head. "You ask him?"
"No… I just sort of assumed we'd being going together. It's not like he's going to take someone else."
"Oh, Blaine." She pats his hand. "Half of the glee club asked the other half to prom through very public serenades. Did you really think it was safe to assume?"
Blaine stands, "I… I need to find Kurt."
"Good idea," Mercedes says, and Blaine is off. All he knows is Kurt is not currently where Blaine also is. Blaine texts: Where are you?
The response: Bleachers.
Already on path there, Blaine picks up his pace.
"Hey," Kurt says, smiling and like nothing is afoot (or not afoot as the case may be) when Blaine arrives. Blaine takes a breathe; he had rushed here.
"Care to join me?" Kurt says, pierced eyebrow rising, after Blaine's silence and stillness. Blaine's heart beats louder at the coy expression.
Kurt kisses Blaine on the cheek when he sits next to him. "Skipping class just to be with me?"
"I had a free period," Blaine says, and nothing more.
"You're being quiet," Kurt says.
Blaine swallows then blurts it out. "Are we going prom?"
As if brushing lint from his sleeve, Kurt answers, "Wasn't planning on it."
"Why not?"
"Wait… do you want to go?"
Blaine scoffs in replace of words, then says, "Maybe. I don't know… With you, yes, I would." He stares down. "Mostly I've been thinking about how good you'd look in suit."
Kurt laughs. "Oh, I see how it is." He bites his lip, grinning going flat. "I didn't think you'd want to go to a school dance. Not after what happened…"
Blaine leans back, head clunking against one of the bleacher's metal supports. "I hadn't even been thinking about that. Can you believe it? I can't." He turns to look at Kurt. "You've made me so brave."
"I didn't do anything."
"You did. You have. I'm a better person when I'm with you."
Kurt plays with his vest's zipper. "I'm the one who should be saying that."
"I have to say it," Blaine says. "And I will say it, a million times over. Until you finally believe me."
Kurt drops the zipper and turns his hand into a fist against himself. "If going to prom's important to you, I'll do it."
Blaine swells his excitement and he's about to cheer, but he checks himself. This decision is not just about him. "Are you sure this is what you want to do."
"I am, I think," Kurt says, lifting his chin. "I… I never thought I'd have someone to go to prom with so I've been steeling myself up for years not to care about it. Now I have more friends than I've ever had… and I have you. And come to think of it... what's a better fuck you to everyone else in this school but to show up and have a good time despite the fact they hate me."
"The best revenge is living well," Blaine quotes.
"I'll make a rebel out of you after all."
…
Blaine tries a on simple, black tux with a white button down and a skinny tie. It's one of the several sets of dress close he owns already. It's a less colorful ensemble than he would usually wear but that's what made it look sophisticated. Blaine's sure Kurt will like him in it.
"What're you getting all dressed up for?" Mom asks, stopping in the hall outside his door.
"Just trying it on," Blaine says. "Trying to pick out what to wear to prom."
"Prom?"
"I'm going with Kurt." Blaine tugs loose his tie.
"…Are you sure that's a good idea?"
Blaine stops with the tie dangling from his neck. "I know what you're worried about, Mom. It's okay."
"It's not. It's not okay." She walks into his room. "I don't think prom's a good idea."
"I'm not afraid," Blaine states.
Mom cups his face. They're about the same height. "I am," she says. "I'm afraid."
"Mom," he says. He hadn't thought about how this isn't just his fear and his past to battle. Like his first day at McKinley, Mom's worries are more than the normal ones for most teenagers, because Blaine's been hurt before, put in the hospital at the hands of humans who thought him less than for dating a boy.
Blaine loops his hands around her wrists. "It'll be different this time," he assures her. "I have whole group of friends who have my back. And I'll be smarter, too. Kurt and I won't go anywhere alone." What he doesn't add is that he's ready now – he's taken boxing lessons – if anything happens, this time he'll fight back.
"I want to forbid it," Mom says. "I want to ground you on prom night, and keep you safe forever." She brushes her fingers over his hairline. "But I can't do that, can I?"
"Mom," Blaine says. "I need to do this. For me. I can't live my life afraid anymore."
Mom agrees to let Blaine attend prom, although her worry shows in ringing hands whenever the topic of prom shows up. Regardless, she takes his chosen suit to be pressed and asks if he needs any money for tickets, or dinner, or a limo.
…
Blaine goes corsage shopping with Sam. Having one formal school dance under his belt, this makes Blaine the expert in Sam's eyes.
"I don't know whether to get one of those wrist ones or the pin ones."
"If you don't know if there's a spot to pin it on her dress, get the wrist one," Blaine says, surveying the display of flowers.
"She's wearing purple," Sam says. "What goes good with purple?"
"You know they have florists here that help figure out that stuff."
Sam seems to have not thought of this before and goes to the main desk with a dazed wonder. He rings the bell on the counter. After Sam works out his arrangement with the lady florist she turns her attention to Blaine.
"What can I help you with, honey?" she says.
Blaine leans against the counter and asks, "Do you have any hot pink flowers?"
The florist perks up, enthused by this (maybe unique) request. "I have some roses I've got to show you."
…
"Woah."
"You like?" Kurt says. He takes a model like spin at the bottom the staircase after making quite an entrance walking down. Blaine's fairly Kurt hadn't done it in slow motion, but that's how it was engrained in his memory.
Kurt is wearing a trendy sports jacket with bunched up, three-quarters sleeves and decorative zippers over the shoulders and down the front. This is paired with solid black skinny jeans and bright pink high top converse.
"Glad I made the right call with this," Blaine says, presenting the corsage. As he pins it on Kurt's lapel, Kurt says, "I can't believe I'm going to prom."
Blaine steps back. "Is that a 'bad' can't believe?"
"No," Kurt says. "I just can't believe how much my life as changed this year." He tugs as Blaine's jacket, bringing him in for a kiss. Burt's cleared throat breaks them apart.
"Mrs. Anderson made me promise to get some pictures of you two," he says, holding a camera. They go through a few posed pictures before there is a car horn honked outside – Mercedes and Sam summoning them to their shared ride.
Prom is fun though not nearly as magical as a one might imagine it to be. Kurt clams up when they enter the decorated gymnasium, especially as a few sets of judging eyes land on them. Blaine grabs Kurt hands tight and follows Sam and Mercedes through the crowd until they find where the rest of the glee club has gathered. It gets easier surrounded by friends who didn't seem to care they were gay and who formed an unofficial and unintentional barrier between them and the rest of the student body.
The night starts with the girls fawning over each other's dresses and turns into goofy dancing along with the upbeat tempo. The DJ must have decided to start the night heavily with dance music as the students arrived at staggered times as they were there for almost an hour before the first slow song came on.
As the others paired up with their dates without question, Blaine held out his hand to Kurt. "Can I have this dance?"
Kurt slips his hand into Blaine's. Blaine pulls him in and they fit together like they've danced like this before although they haven't. Maybe that's true familiarity, no awkward fumbling even during firsts. The song goes on, and they sway together – warm and content.
…
"If you don't mind skipping out on Rachel's after prom party, I kinda made some other plans… for us," Kurt says.
"What plans?"
"I may have rented a hotel room."
"Oh," Blaine says. He unbuttons his cuff, then… "Oh!"
Kurt snickers. "You got there eventually."
"Do you mean what I think you mean?"
"Let's go be a prom cliché," Kurt says, eyes dancing with lights, though it may just be the last reflections of the disco ball swirling over the dance floor.
Blaine gulps and nods vigorously.
…
Every touch is singeing even though they've touched it all before. Newness brings lightening to their kisses and to the noises they make in the back of their throats. They're mostly stripped down, taking their time – they have the whole night for once – with the petting and foreplay.
"How do you want to…?" Blaine asks between breathes.
"Everything," Kurt replies, distracted as he nips along Blaine's jaw.
Blaine reluctantly pulls away. "No, I mean… who's going where?"
"Do you have a preference?" Kurt asks.
"I've haven't tried either yet, so, no."
"I want to do both, eventually," Kurt whispers. Blaine feels Kurt's hot breathes on his neck more than he hears him. "We've all summer for that." Blaine groans at the promise. "But tonight," Kurt goes on, "Or at least first tonight. I want… I want you…" He shudders off.
Blaine rakes his fingers through Kurt's hair. "Kurt?
Kurt blinks open his eyes and they're fiery. "I want to feel you inside me. That's the scarier one, I think, at least for me, but you make me so unafraid."
Almost on reflex, Blaine says, "We don't have to do anything you're not ready –"
Kurt grunts, and it's the annoyed kind, not the sexy kind. "Blaine," he says, throwing his head back on the pillow in overdone exasperation. "I want to. So why don't you shush the fuck up and start fingering me."
Blaine chocks on the air. "Yes. Yes. Okay," he answers.
…
"You okay?" Blaine asks, after, in a whisper.
"I'm perfect," Kurt answers and Blaine can hear his smile. He blinks slowly, and his eyelashes dust against Blaine's cheek as Kurt has settled his head on Blaine's shoulder. "Perfect… because I'm here with you."