I cannot apologize enough for how late this is. and I also want to profusely thank anyone who is still reading this after all this time. I'm an expert at making excuses so... in all honestly, my computer has been fucked the last week or so. and now college has started again so I have less time, but I PROMISE I'm not abandoning this fic, if you'll just trust me and give me some time.
so just to make sure everything is clear and refresh your memories: this story is obviously an AU (Blaine is 3 or 4 years older than Kurt, and Sebastian is only just now a student at Dalton) they're all minor details but most other aspects of the story are canon

Costumes were not a concept that Kurt was keen to latch onto. Growing up he had never seen the point of squeezing oneself into a cheap polyester get-up just to be handed candy like a sick child. Of course that didn't mean he had never gone trick-or-treating; he did but once.

He had been in the first grade at the time and he knew all the other kids were going so his mother had persuaded him into accompanying his classmates. She had graciously asked him what he wanted to be and he had eagerly replied, "A fairy princess, like Tinkerbelle!" She only smiled at him and patted his soft brunette head. By Halloween night, Kurt had forgotten that he said anything, so when his mother presented him with a hand stitched green ensemble he was reasonably surprised. The garment itself looked much like the attire of Peter Pan; Kurt's short legs were wrapped in cotton leggings of an emerald shade, and the jade tunic he wore was belted around the waist. After he had gotten dressed, he noted to his mother that he didn't look much like a princess and she silenced by handing over a plastic wand that had a star resting on the top and a handful of streamers tied just below it. From the top of her dresser, his mother also produced a matching silver painted tiara and a dollar store package of stage makeup. When Kurt and his mother left the house, crown firmly placed on his head, to walk the neighborhood with a few of his friends, he felt so much like a princess he couldn't help but spin on his heel in delight, waving his wand in the air all the while.
"Hey Kurt!" He heard from his left, and he twirled to discover that the yelling had come from another boy his age, Dave Karofsky. Dave seemed to look over Kurt's glitter sprinkled face for a minute but then he spoke again, his finger pointing mockingly, "what's on your face? You look like a girl!"
Kurt then dropped his wand on the pavement and turned his face up to his mother, his bottom lip quivering. "Is he right, mommy? Do I look like a girl?"
She bent down to look him in the eye and she wiped off a sparkly tear that was clumped in the corner of his lashes, "of course not, sweetheart. Don't listen to him. Do you still want to go trick-or-treating?"
Kurt shook his head and scrubbed at the dried body glitter on his cheeks. Then, even though he was getting to be too old and too heavy to be picked up, his mother enfolded her arms around his tiny waist and hoisted him up until he could wrap his legs around her hips. She held him in a hug to her chest into the house and only let go when she had safely placed him in his bed.
A month later his mother was dead and even though his father had laid out a pair of dress pants and an oxford shirt for Kurt to wear to the funeral, the young boy insisted on wearing his princess costume and refused to leave the house until his father conceded to the idea. Burt was not so agreeing though and instead thought up a truce, if Kurt wore the nice clothes he would be allowed to wear his tiara and his stage makeup and even bring his wand.
On the drive to the church, Kurt sat in the backseat of the car, blindly applying the roll-on body glitter to his temples and cheeks. When they arrived at the service, Burt scolded his son for the excessive sparkles on his face, but in the interest of time, didn't force him to wash any off.
For the entirety of the service and even on through the burial at the cemetery, Kurt held onto his father's fingers in one hand, and his silver wand in the other.

Kurt had only gone to two costume parties since then and had been forced into both by his college dorm roommate in New York. However, this year he had seemed to have a change of heart. He had spent most of his Saturday evening and all of his Sunday chatting with Mercedes on the phone about different ideas and surfing the web for something he could throw together himself in only a few short days. By Monday morning, Kurt had solidified a decent costume idea for how short notice the plans were and he was planning on going shopping for his necessary supplies and accessories that afternoon.

His first class that morning was his seniors, and unfortunately that meant Sebastian Smythe was going to be sitting in the front row, staring openly at Kurt's mouth as he spoke. He was not looking forward to that.

The period had gone by almost without a hitch. They had reviewed the possessive clause in preparation for the quiz Kurt was giving the next class time, and he had been so pleased with their cooperation for their hour of review that he allowed the boys to talk amongst themselves for the remaining five minutes of class.

It was then that Blaine strolled into the classroom, his leather bag slung over his shoulder and a cardboard tray holding two paper coffee cups was clenched in his hands. He waved at Kurt as he got a little closer to his desk and when he reached the tabletop he smiled widely.

"Guten morgen, Kurt. How was your weekend?" ("Good morning, Kurt.") Blaine twisted the cup he knew was Kurt's out of its cardboard confines and handed it over to his friend. "Nonfat mocha. Careful, it's still hot." Kurt smiled gratefully at the older man, a light blush flushing his cheeks.

"So are you two fucking now, or what?" The room suddenly fell silent and Kurt whipped his head around to his left to see Sebastian wagging his finger between them, a thoughtfully serious look on his face. He raised a single eyebrow and watched on curiously as both teachers' faces quickly glowed scarlet.

"Sebastian that is wildly inappropriate." Blaine placed his cup down on the desk and crossed his arms over his chest, and Kurt couldn't help but notice the way the action made the older teacher's biceps bulge around the cuffs of the black polo he was wearing. "And even if we were, would it be any of your business?" Sebastian's mouth opened, a snarky reply on his tongue, but Blaine cut him off, "Please don't answer that. And that better be the last rude thing I hear you say or I'm gonna write you up, again. Got it, Smythe?"

The senior boy rolled his eyes but nodded and picked up his pencil and began to doodle in his open notebook. For the next several, dragging seconds, the room remained silent, the other students glancing around at each other in shock. But suddenly the bell rang and the entire class moved at once, leaving the awkward atmosphere of the room in a hurry.

Kurt, occupied with straightening the papers on his desk, jumped slightly when he felt a warm hand on his elbow. He looked up at Blaine and had to smile a little when he noticed the other's bashful grin.

"I'm sorry I kind of made a scene in your class. But Sebastian just doesn't know when to shut his mouth." Blaine picked up his coffee again and sipped it as he leaned against the side of Kurt's desk.

"Yeah, I think he's doing his homework and then some. His vocabulary in my class has become quite… colorful. There are times where I am actually unsure of what he's actually saying, but I'm not naïve enough to think for a second that it's not crude." Kurt smirked and sat in his chair, his legs crossing on their own accord. "But enough about Sebastian, you were going to tell me about the place you are dragging me to on Friday. What was it called?"

Blaine laughed, "It's called O'Doule's. And I'm not dragging you anywhere. If you don't want to go, you don't have to."

"Oh no, I'm definitely going, I already decided on my costume. And before you ask, no, I am not going to tell you." Blaine giggled but then pouted cutely. "Not unless you tell me yours."

"Absolutely not."

Halloween that year fell on a Friday, and Kurt had to work. Sebastian had continued to make passes at him for the rest of the week but they had considerably lessened in both quantity and quality. Kurt sat with the other teachers and Blaine in the teacher's lounge that day for lunch and listened as they told stories of past years at O'Doule's.

"Last year, Anne wasn't there 'cause two of her kids had the stomach flu. But Pete and I went with Blaine. Blaine won the award for best costume, and best karaoke performance. But I think it was rigged. He only won because he wasn't wearing a shirt." Hope had a smile on her face but she sounded bitter, "I spent weeks on my Lady Gaga costume."

"I was too wearing a shirt. Well I guess not really. It was just a vest." Blaine turned his gaze on Kurt when he saw the puzzled look on his face. "I went as Aladdin. I had the vest and harem pants and I had a little stuffed money on my shoulder."

While Kurt was definitely pleased by the image of Blaine walking around a bar half-naked, that wasn't the first thing on his mind. "You didn't tell me there was karaoke at this place Blaine. I have nothing prepared."

"Kurt, you don't have to sing; unless of course you want to, in which case you would hear no objections from me. I'm sure you have a lovely voice." Blaine looked slightly flustered as he took another bite of his peanut butter sandwich. Kurt was still for a moment, letting the compliment sink in.

"I'll sing if you sing." He offered, the corner of his lip curling in a silent challenge.

Anne took in the exchange with glee, "Of course he will. Blaine is a natural performer and I'm sure he would love to sing you one of the numerous Katy Perry numbers in his repertoire."

Blaine sighed, but then shook his head in defeat, a broad smile on his face, "Fine. I'll sing. But I'm sure Kurt will be better than me."

Kurt beamed and danced a tiny bit in his seat, the upcoming night seemed to be looking more and more promising.