AN: Okay, I lied. Well, I didn't actually lie. I just didn't know what I was talking about. This was not posted before the new episode, and it isn't the last chapter. So, yay? I'm not even sure how I managed to write this much all in one day. I had a pretty different plan for how this was going to go, and then I looked up hours later and I was pleased, and it was quite different.

What with the last episode, I so want to just fix everything in Kurt's life and write pure, unadulterated fluff. That's all I want to do. Ever.

This may be my shortest Author's Note yet. I love you all. See you soon.

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There's something incredibly right about opening the door and finding Kurt behind it. It's like "Oh, yes, this is how things are supposed to be." It's like "This is what's going to be happening forever, right? Please?" It's like "Goddamn, I'm the luckiest guy in the world."

And it's a little like "Oh shit. He came up to the door. Now I have to introduce him to my parents."

Originally, Blaine was going to tell Kurt to wait in the car. He was going to leave without hardly a word about it, just enough to let them know that he was leaving. But then he'd had a wardrobe crisis. An epic wardrobe crisis. It was to the extent that when Kurt rang the doorbell, Blaine was only just pulling his favorite sweater over his head, the one that made his eyes stand out, and the floor of his bedroom looked like it had every item of clothing he owned strewn across it.

No, scratch that. It did have every item of clothing he owned strewn across it.

"I'm getting it!" He yelled downstairs as loudly as he could, hopping out into the hall and trying to put on his shoes at the same time. He nearly toppled down the entire flight of stairs. Feeling absurdly impatient, he made himself sit down and put on his shoes properly before heading to the door. Every extra second felt like an eternity.

And then he was opening the door. And time stood still for a moment.

Kurt looked absolutely gorgeous. He was wearing the skinniest, lowest riding jeans in existence. His coat was purple and elegant and open, revealing a simple black t-shirt. But the shirt was tight, and clung to his chest, and hung just above his hips. The short shirt combined with the low waistline left almost two inches of pale skin visible.

You could cut steel with those hips. Blaine thought, biting his lip. It took far too long for him to notice what he was doing- looking Kurt up and down with a high level of desire in his eyes- and by the time he looked back up into Kurt's eyes, both boys were blushing slightly. Not knowing what he was going to say, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Who is that?" His mom called from the living room, and he sighed resignedly.

"It's Kurt, mom!" He shouted back, and beckoned for Kurt to follow him. Kurt looked unnerved, so he reached for his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, being sure to drop it before they entered the room.

"I'm meeting your parents?" Kurt mouthed at him in panic, looking down at his outfit self-consciously.

"I'm sorry." Blaine muttered. Kurt frantically tied his coat closed.

It wasn't like his parents weren't okay with him being gay- they hadn't taken the news as wonderfully as Kurt's dad, but Blaine talked to a guy online who's dad threw a bible at his head when he came out, so really, he'd been grateful with what he got. This parents were dealing. Maybe they thought he was making the choice, maybe they thought if he decided to he would be able to "go back to girls", but they also knew their son. And they knew how pigheaded he was. So in their eyes, they knew he wouldn't go back, no matter what they said.

They knew he'd befriended Kurt. They knew Kurt was gay. They had probably guessed at Blaine's feelings for him, or done some sort of fucked up math equation- gay male+gay male= sinning together for life. His mother tried to show that she was "okay" with it at every possible opportunity, especially around his friends. So he wasn't at all surprised when she opened her mouth and she was using that loud, cheery tone that was forced as hell. He just wanted the floor to swallow him up.

"Oh, so is this the boyfriend?" She asked excitedly, rising from her chair and wrapping him in an airy hug. Blaine knew from attending countless functions with his mom that that was what she did when she felt particularly awkward.

"Um, mom, I don't have a boyfriend." He said, shifting his weight and hoping this would be over soon. His dad hadn't moved from his seat, but he grunted something to himself as Blaine spoke.

"Oh, my mistake!" She said. Not even a blip on the radar, no sign on her face giving away what she thought of this. "He talks about you so much, you see." She explained to Kurt, who blushed.

"Okay, mom, now you're just trying to embarrass me," Blaine said, and he grabbed Kurt's arm. "Can we go now?"

His mother gave him a calculating look, as though trying to figure out if she should end the torture or not.

"Of course, dear! Don't want you to miss your reservation or anything. You be good to my son, alright?" She turned on Kurt, an eyebrow raised. If he hadn't felt so awkward, Blaine would've laughed at the terrified expression on his face. It was adorable.

"Of course, Ma'am," Kurt said, and a couple seconds later he managed to pull on his most charming smile. "It was lovely to meet you. Your home is beautiful." At that, his mom brightened. Well, that was the perfect thing to say. Blaine thought.

"Oh, thank you, dear. Home by eleven thirty." She said. Normally, it was eleven. His mom liked Kurt.

"Not a problem," Kurt said. "Have a good night!" Before he turned to leave, he not only took Blaine's mom's hand and kissed it gently, but he tipped his hat in Blaine's dad's direction.

And with that, they left. Kurt ended up leading them out, and Blaine wasn't complaining in the slightest. His eyes drifted shamelessly down, and his head tilted of it's own accord to fully take in the way Kurt's ass moved in his tight jeans, the way his hips swayed more than the average guy's. God, he was hot.

In the entryway he grabbed his jacket, a black wool peacoat that fell mid-thigh. With that on over his very own skinny jeans and amber leather boots, he didn't actually feel too underdressed next to Kurt, which was a rare occurrence.

"Well, that wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be," Kurt said as they walked down the driveway to his car, which was parked by the side of the road. "I meant it when I said your house is beautiful. Damn, if I had control over rooms other than my bedroom, I might be stealing the color scheme for your living room." They reached the car, and Kurt opened the door for Blaine smoothly, as though he'd been practicing. Blaine blushed.

"I'm so glad you mentioned the house to her," He told Kurt, once they were both seated comfortably. "She's an interior decorator. She pretty much did everything you saw. And then she wonders why her son is gay." He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice. Kurt noticed.

"Does she have a problem with- you being gay?" He asked. It seemed a little ridiculous that they'd never talked about Blaine's coming out in all the time they'd known each other. In fact, it had been two months exactly since they'd met. And he'd still never told this story.

"I came out when I was twelve." He started. Kurt whistled.

"That's young." He said.

"Yeah, it was. It was the kind of thing where I always knew, where it never seemed to be a big deal. My family is- pretty religious. I grew up knowing that homosexuality is a sin, without knowing what homosexuality was. I just knew that I liked boys, and I always had. But I was little, so it didn't really make a difference, did it? Until I was twelve. And I kissed my best friend."

"Uh-oh." Kurt said.

"Uh-oh is right. I went to my parents so damn happy. I'd had my first kiss, and it was wonderful, and I was just- ecstatic. My mom and I talked about everything. I'd never really had a crush before Josh, so I'd never brought up boys, so we'd never had any problems before."

"Problems?" Kurt asked, as if he wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

"I knew Josh because his parents were part of come committee at church with my parents. We kissed at the end of the school year. I told my mom, she told his parents, they sent us to a special camp."

"Oh." Kurt's voice was breathy.

"God, it was the weirdest thing, Kurt. It was this camp for "confused" christian kids. Like, all these gay and lesbian and trans and bi and asexual and everything you could think of kids from eleven to seventeen, staying in cabins, eating at campfires, singing hymns and memorizing bible passages about how evil they were. Half of the kids were totally for it. They believed that if they truly loved god, he would save them from their lust."

"You're really making me rethink my atheism with this." Kurt joked. Blaine laughed.

"Some of christianity isn't bullshit. But that camp was," He said. "Of course, the other half just hooked up all summer. My god, the drama," Kurt laughed loud at that one. "I learned more about gay sex just from hearing them talking about what they did the night before than I ever needed to know, and I was only twelve. Josh and I tried to be something, and then he decided he wanted to be cured, and we broke up."

"I'm sorry." Kurt said quietly, taking his hand off the wheel to squeeze Blaine's.

"Thanks," He said, and squeezed back. "But I think it turned out for the best." Both boys smiled, and silence fell in the car. Kurt didn't take his hand back, and Blaine wondered, as he had been wondering since Kurt had first asked him to dinner, if this was a date. A smarter guy would just ask. He told himself. But he didn't.

He looked out the window for a little bit, as that seemed to be the only way to keep himself from staring at Kurt. The sky was so dark it was black and thick and seemed to absorb all the light mere inches from where it emanated. The air was heavy with orange light from the streetlamps, and then something changed, and it was snowing. The flakes were thick, and they floated to the earth so gently Blaine couldn't help but wonder if they were magic.

Inside the car, he was warm and comfortable with a pretty boy's hand in his. He looked over at Kurt, and he wasn't watching the road hardly at all. Blaine smiled and raised his eyebrows, and Kurt jumped a little and turned back to the street. A minute later they came to their exit, and Kurt had to take his hand away to change lanes, and then turn at the next light. This seemed to remind him of the conversation they'd been having.

"So what happened after you went to camp? Clearly it didn't turn you straight."

"Yeah, not so much," Blaine admitted with a laugh. "Though I pretended it did for a while. Then in a very dramatic fashion, they found out that I'd actually gotten a boyfriend at don't-be-gay camp. I- my dad was really pissed. He raged at me, punched me in the face-" Kurt gasped. "-and I went to live in my friend Jessica's basement for a month. My mom got me to come back. They still spent a lot of time trying to set me up on dates with girls, taking me to prayer meetings, stuff like that. But in the end, I'm their only child. They don't want to lose me. They basically operate under the policy of 'Hate the sin, love the sinner.'"

"Wow. And she seemed so- cool about it." Kurt said. He sounded like he was in shock.

"Well, she's doing what she can. It's been five years since the really big stuff happened. And she's the most socially adept person I know. Her connections are what got me into Dalton when the bullying got really bad. I decided to leave, and next thing I knew, I was going. The next morning. Bumped me like, nine people up on the waiting list. Crazy shit like that. She wanted you to know that we're a good family, wanted you to know she's a good mom. So she acted like it was all cool."

"Oh. I thought she maybe liked me. I thought I made a good impression."

"That too." He reassured him, smiling. "And my dad somehow managed not to say a word, which is rare. You must have superpowers or something." Kurt giggled, and pulled up to the curb in front of Red Onion.

"Wait. Don't open your door," Kurt insisted, and he turned off the car, walked around to Blaine's side, and opened the door for him. "I know how to be a gentleman." He said, and held out his arm. Blaine could take a hint. He took his arm. Smiling, they walked into the restaurant.

The meal was, as always, wonderful. Their feet always seemed to be bumping against each other in the most pleasant way. Neither could decide on what to eat, so they shared two dishes. The restaurant played music they both loved, and they hummed around the whole night. Their conversation never lagged. When they weren't talking, it wasn't awkward. It was like they were just listening to things deeper down than words.

This had, had, had to be a date. And Blaine reveled in it. He looked into Kurt's eyes at every available moment. He let his hand graze Kurt's as he reached from his glass of water, let it linger. Every second was a confirmation. And the more he knew, in his gut, that it was a date, the more he had to be sure. He had to ask. He steeled himself. He looked into those clear eyes, and the words that he'd been meaning to utter for so long just slipped past his lips as if they were no big deal.

"Do you feel the same way about me that I feel about you? Is this a date? Can I take you on another one next weekend?" Damn. His voice didn't even tremble. Was that even me? Did I actually just ask those questions?

Kurt just looked at him. For a full minute, he just looked at him. And the look he gave him was the most intense, happy, amazing look in the whole wide world. The answer was written all over his face. His smile didn't just reach his eyes, his eyes were his smile. His entire being was his smile. And his smile wasn't really a smile. His smile was a grin the size of Canada.

"Um, it depends on how you feel about me, yes, and fuck yes." Kurt said, voice just barely above a whisper. Now, Kurt was trembling. Blaine grabbed his hand.

"I've had a thing for you since you first walked up to me at Dalton. I've wanted you to be mine since I first heard you speak. I've wanted to kiss you since our eyes first met. And becoming your friend, getting to know you- it's only made those feelings stronger. I'm done being your mentor, your role model. I want to be a bad influence. I want to keep you up too late at night. I want to kiss you silly. I want to be the boy you deserve."

And then he sat back, and tried to breathe. Kurt's eyes were glimmering with tears. Balls, where'd I learn to talk so nice? Blaine wondered.

"Well then," Kurt said. Slowly, quietly, purposefully. "Yes. I feel the same way. I really, really do."

Blaine had watched a lot of romantic comedies in his life. He loved romantic comedies. He watched them with baited breath. He laughed, he cried, he loved every second. And then when they were over, he tore them apart with the skill of a vicious critic. He knew they were crap, and cliché, and cheesy.

That moment felt like the ending of the best romantic comedy ever. There they were, together, finally getting the message and getting together. From that table, it felt like nothing else existed. Blaine couldn't hear anything but Kurt- Kurt breathing, Kurt talking, Kurt existing. That, and his own heart, which had to be about to burst. The world around them was a blur of pretty lights. They looked at each other, and they were all that mattered.

But no matter how far he got from that moment, it never got less perfect. There was nothing to mock, nothing to criticize.

They could do no wrong.

So they finished desert, and-waving aside all of Blaine's protests- Kurt paid, and they stood up, and they walked outside hand in hand.

While they were eating, the snow seemed to have ebbed in and out. It was now coming down slightly slower than it had been when they went in, but the streets were deserted and the sidewalk was slippery beneath the four inches of snow.

"I shouldn't have worn heels." Kurt said, walking carefully to open Blaine's door. Blaine just smiled, and closed it, and took both of Kurt's hands in his.

"You were not prepared for snow." He commented, and he opened up his jacket, pulling Kurt close to him, chest to chest, and wrapping the coat around the two of them. Kurt shivered as if in agreement, and snuggled against him. Kurt was taller, though not by much, and it was slightly awkward, but they didn't give these facts much notice. They just stood there, in the snow, sharing body heat. Body heat that was, as they pressed closer together, getting hotter. Blaine was starting to have trouble breathing, and god, if Kurt didn't kiss him soon, to hell with his promise, he was just going to grab that boy and-

"I don't want to take you home yet." Kurt said, having to pull away slightly to look into his face.

"I don't really want to go home yet." Blaine admitted, smiling.

"But my ass is going to fall off from the cold if we don't get in somewhere warm." Kurt said. Blaine gave him a (slightly) exaggerated look of horror.

"Yeah, okay, let's go." He said quickly, disentangling himself from Kurt and walking over to his door, opening it for himself before Kurt could stop him. In a very mature move, he stuck his tongue out at him.

"Well, that got you to move." Kurt commented wryly as he got into the car.

"If I was in some way responsible for the loss of your ass, I'd never forgive myself." Blaine told him. Kurt laughed.

"I'm not joking. Your ass is not to be joked about. Your ass is to be admired." They both blushed. Finally saying this kind of thing, instead of stuffing it down into a little box of repressed things, verged on the edge of terrifying. Every time Blaine opened his mouth, and didn't stop the words on his mind from coming out, every inch of his body tingled, like he was full of electricity.

"You're one to talk, Mr. Let-You-Put-Your-Hands-On-Me-In-My-Skintight-Jeans. Showoff." Kurt replied, his face bright red.

"I'll live up to that promise, too." Blaine told him. He even winked. Kurt's reaction was close to flailing. He looked amazed. Okay, this is fun. Blaine thought. His head was buzzing.

"Okay, Blaine, you need to stop talking. And you need to stop looking at me. And you need to stop being so goddamned gorgeous, because I need to actually drive somewhere, as opposed to sitting here with the engine on, slowly killing the environment. And if you don't stop, driving won't be a possibility anymore. Because I will not be able to resist pouncing on you and kissing you within an inch of your life."

"Okay, that was the worst argument for me to stop talking that I've ever heard," Blaine said. "Oh no, if I keep talking Kurt will kiss me! I'd better stop talking right this very second! I wouldn't want that!"

"Oh, shut up," Kurt simply said. "And tell me where we're going."