Kurt has spent weeks picking out the clothes for this moment. He has decided to go simple, a sleek charcoal name-designer tuxedo he can just barely afford with his aunt Anne's smirking help, a skinny black tie smooth over the light gray dress shirt. This was his nineteenth outfit picked out for the night, and he's pleased with it.

He waits, nervously rocking onto his toes and then his heels. Burt and Carole smile affectionately at him from the dining room table, finishing the dinner Kurt cooked for them but was too full of butterflies to eat himself. Finn and Rachel have gone ahead, Rachel suggesting an early arrival will prevent any unnecessary drama with Quinn. Kurt is distracted, briefly, by the thought of Rachel winning prom queen and then having pig's blood doused on her by an unhinged Quinn, ending in some bizarre duet while the school goes up in flames—when there is a knock at the door.

Kurt breathes in sharply and shakes his arms, trying to get the jitters out. He flexes his hands, fingers stretched out, once—expand—contract—twice—expand—and then he trembles from his fingertips to the rest of his body before a calm sets over him. Blaine is at the door. His boyfriend, come from Dalton to take him to prom at McKinley. Kurt shoots a glance at Burt and Carole, and they are motioning with wide grins to him to open the door. Kurt smiles back, the nerves tempered by the knowledge that it is Blaine who is waiting. Perfect Blaine. Kurt opens the door and opens his mouth to say, "I was starting to wonder—" when he sees what Blaine is wearing.

It's not that the Dalton uniform is unattractive. Well, it is, with that gaudy red lining, as if a child had gotten hold of his daddy's suit jacket and drawn down every seam of it in red lipstick. And that tie. God. But it could be worse. Much worse. Probably. Kurt liked seeing Blaine in his Dalton uniform, liked how the lines of the jacket made his torso look, liked how the trousers hugged his butt—and Kurt had had months of seeing Blaine in this uniform, months enough to know—to know—Blaine would look spectacular in a tux.

Except Blaine, the night of prom, the night Kurt has dreamt of and wondered about since he was four and first saw a Ken doll in a little dapper black tux—Blaine is not wearing a tux. He is wearing that damned Dalton uniform with that damned comical tie, and Kurt can't help the look on his face.

Blaine is instantly on guard, but he plays it off. "Kurt, you look amazing." He leans in and kisses Kurt softly, pretending to go for the cheek but really hitting the jaw, right where he knows Kurt likes it. Kurt is unmoved by this blatant attempt at buttering him up.

"Thanks," Kurt says back, raising an eyebrow at Blaine.

Blaine leans in the door a little and waves at Burt and Carole sitting at the table. They wave back. Kurt contemplates his options—he needs to get Blaine out of this uniform, immediately, but where can he find a tux at this hour?—and then also waves at Burt and Carole before grabbing Blaine's hand and closing the front door after them.

They make it down to Blaine's car, parked on the street. Blaine opens the passenger door for Kurt, but instead of climbing in, Kurt pauses and tilts his head at Blaine, then leans against the car.

"Kurt, what's wrong?" Blaine asks softly, his eyes worriedly flickering from the interior of the car to Kurt's face.

Kurt can't help but laugh at the sad-puppy expression on Blaine's face. "Blaine, your school uniform for prom? Really?"

Blaine's mouth drops open in protest. "It's formal wear!"

"Prom, Blaine. Prom." At the juxtaposition of these words, though, Kurt cracks up. "I sound like Molly Ringwald in Pretty in Pink. What about prom, Blaine?"

"Oh god, don't you even," Blaine warns, wagging a finger at Kurt and stepping closer. Kurt is still leaning against the car, and Blaine presses into him, the earth working to his advantage: he is still standing on the grass of the Hummel household lawn while Kurt has both feet in the paved shoulder of the street, and not only does he gain a few inches on Kurt from this angle, but gravity is his friend. Blaine wraps his arms loosely around Kurt's neck and kisses him, kisses that start conventionally on the mouth but roam southeast.

Kurt almost forgets about the uniform for a second. Blaine's lips have this effect on him, and he finds himself lost in the wonder that is Blaine's mouth sucking on the line where his head turns into his neck. Then he opens his eyes wide at the unpleasant thought of Burt perhaps watching them out the front window of the house, and he puts his hands up to Blaine's chest, gently pushing him away a few inches. "We are getting you something else to wear. No fair attacking me with kisses."

"It almost worked," Blaine whispers, moving his head in again to nibble at Kurt's neck.

"Blaine." Kurt gasps at what Blaine is doing to him, but then gets a hold of himself and slaps Blaine on the arm—on his uniform-clad arm. "Blaine!"

"Kurt," Blaine growls back, but Kurt has finally managed to dislodge himself from underneath Blaine, and he sidesteps away. "Aw, Kurt," Blaine whimpers after him, but one look at the blue-and-red-striped tie and Kurt has his mind focused again.

"Blaine, you are not going to my prom wearing that monstrosity."

"I don't have anything else to wear."

Kurt bites his lip and wracks his brain, trying to come up with the answer. All Blaine really needs is a different jacket and a better tie, my god, that tie. The pants—he can keep the pants. Kurt flushes involuntarily as his thoughts roam away from fashion and towards Blaine's ass, but it's dark and Blaine doesn't see.

"I have an idea," Kurt says, and his voice is filled with delight at what he has come up with.

"Do you now?" Blaine asks, his tone a little grumpy.

"You're going to love it. I can't believe I haven't introduced you to them yet, though I've only met them a few times."

"Oh?" Blaine furrows his brow, puzzled, but he steps away from the car and holds the door open wider so Kurt can get in. When Kurt is settled inside, Blaine closes the door and goes around to the other side. Kurt smiles fondly at him as he slides into the driver's seat, and Blaine returns the look.

"Hey, you," Kurt says.

"Hey," Blaine says back, and their faces lean in together and connect at the mouth.

Kurt finally breaks the kiss, smiling against Blaine's face. "Come on, then. We're already late to prom, and Rachel lives twenty minutes from here."

The alarm on Blaine's face is evident. "Rachel?"

"Don't worry, Blaine, she and Finn are already at the prom. But Rachel's dads—they'll have something for you to wear. You have the same broad chest as her dad Nathan. They will also sympathize with me, and thus lend you something extra fabulous."

Blaine sighs. "I'm sorry, Kurt. I really didn't think about it. I should have."

Kurt looks down at his own suit, the nineteenth choice. He has just a moment where Blaine's obliviousness makes his face flicker with irritation, but then he looks up again into Blaine's eyes and can't help but smile. "I like that about you," Kurt says. "I like everything about you that's different from me. And everything that's the same, too," he adds as an afterthought. "I like everything."

"You're not mad?"

"Mad? No. Patiently exasperated? Sure. But—" The words fall out of his mouth naturally. "But I love you—and something as silly as a suit isn't going to come between us."

Blaine puts a hand up to Kurt's face and strokes his cheek with his thumb, lightly. Kurt leans into the touch.

"I love you, too," Blaine says. "Enough to be inflicted with Berrys tonight."

"Oh, you'll love Rachel's dads. They're frenetic, like her, but in a goodway. And—" Kurt pauses, unsure if he should go this far tonight, but he's already started the sentence, so he finishes it: "I like seeing how they live. I like to think of myself living with—with someone, like that, someday. They give me hope—for my future."

Blaine's kiss then is sudden and filled with more lust than love. Kurt's mind flickers from his future to his present, to his prom night, and finally, heavily, to this moment with Blaine. This is all that matters right now. As he turns his body to conform against Blaine's a little more easily, Kurt is thankful, just for a moment, for the ugly red-and-blue-striped tie that he wraps his hand around and tugs, pulling Blaine into him.