The Only Thing That Looks Good On Me Is You, Kurt/Blaine, PG-13
Title: The Only Thing That Looks Good On Me Is You
Author: skintightsocks
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: 3,700+
Summary: "That's from cheerleading, not gymnastics. And shoot, I think I was supposed to return that last year when I quit." Kurt shrugs. "I'm surprised Coach Sylvester hasn't taken a hit out on me yet." Kurt glances over at Blaine but he's just staring down at the uniform, uncharacteristically still.
Spoilers: Set during episode 2x19
Warnings: None
Author Notes: Title is from the song "The Only Thing That Looks Good On Me Is You" by Bryan Adams. We really have no excuse for this, except a lingering need to write Cheerio!Kurt porn and a desire to dress Blaine up like a Barbie. We have no regrets.
There are moments when Kurt is entirely grateful to be in the kind of relationship he has with Blaine; the kind of relationship where, when Kurt tells Blaine he's been visiting Sam at a motel and Kurt's decided to share some of his clothes with him, Blaine just tells Kurt what an incredible person he is and offers to come over to help pick out clothes. It makes Kurt fluff up with pride to know that Blaine trusts him completely. Kurt trusts Blaine completely, of course, but it helps that he also still gets texts from the Warblers informing him that Blaine won't shut up about him or he's having a particularly mopey day or he just sang a melancholy ballad to the chair Kurt usually sat in at Warbler meetings.
Kurt's still in a good mood when Blaine comes over so he tugs him close once Blaine is inside the house, pressing their lips together quickly and pulling back with a grin tugging at his mouth. "Hello."
"Hey," Blaine says, a little dazed and flushed from outside, his hair not gelled down as much as usual, and Kurt is seriously considering turning this goodwill date into one very long and very awesome make out session as he starts to lead Blaine up to his room.
"Door open, Kurt," Burt calls to them from the kitchen when they reach the foot of the stairs, and Kurt rolls his eyes. Goodwill date it is, then.
"It's okay, dad! Blaine's just helping me go through my old clothes."
Burt steps out of the kitchen, staring up at them in his cooking apron. He's been getting more and more into cooking since he's usually home before Carole is and though Kurt would never tell his dad this, he finds it incredibly endearing what a good homemaker he's becoming.
"You're going through Kurt's closet?"
"Yes, Mr. Hummel," Blaine says, straightening up a little, and Kurt bites back a laugh.
Burt snorts. "Good luck, buddy. Last time I tried helping Kurt here with his wardrobe was back when he was eight. I'm never making that mistake again. He wouldn't talk to me for days."
"He kept trying to take my vests away from me," Kurt explains briskly before his dad can turn this into an 'embarrass Kurt' session. "Is it alright if Blaine stays for dinner?"
"Yeah, sure," Burt says, turning around to go back into the kitchen when the oven beeps. "But keep the closet door open too, Kurt."
Kurt rolls his eyes again, grabbing Blaine's hand as they start up the stairs. "Yes, dad. No gay sex in the closet, got it," he adds in a low voice, mostly hoping his dad doesn't actually hear that.
"I get to stay for dinner?" Blaine asks softly as soon as they get into Kurt's room and Kurt strategically shuts the door most of the way, until it's just barely cracked open. His dad will grumble when he inevitably comes upstairs to check on them, but this way at least Finn will take the hint.
"Oh, is that alright? I mean, I just figured you hadn't already had dinner, and my dad isn't that bad of a cook, I've been teaching him a lot--"
"I would be honored to stay for dinner," Blaine interrupts, reaching for Kurt's hand and lifting it so he can brush his lips over Kurt's knuckles in a gesture that should be kind of cheesy but just makes something in Kurt's chest flutter. He pulls away quickly, moving toward his closet in hopes that Blaine doesn't catch his blush.
"Okay," he says, "we're looking for things I no longer wear that will suit Sam, so that means anything with sequins is out."
"Would you say that discounts a fourth or an eighth of your wardrobe?" Blaine asks, stepping close behind Kurt and wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist.
"Hah," Kurt says dryly. "Oh Blaine, you're so funny. I can hardly contain my mirth."
"Good thing you like me for my body too, then," Blaine says, pressing said body closer to Kurt's back and nuzzling at the side of his neck. Kurt drops his head back against Blaine's shoulder on instinct, giving Blaine's mouth more room to skim his lips over Kurt's skin, and then he realizes what he's doing and pulls away, turning to glare at Blaine.
"I will send you downstairs to cook with my dad," Kurt says warningly. "Don't think that I won't."
"I'm not scared," Blaine says, even though his eyes have gone wide and are darting around nervously. "Your dad likes me. He said I could stay for dinner."
"I'll text him while you're going down the stairs and tell him what we did in the back of your car last weekend," Kurt says, raising an eyebrow.
"That's just hateful," Blaine says with a shiver, stepping away from Kurt quickly. "Hateful."
Kurt smiles sweetly at him and pecks him on the cheek before he turns back to his closet, mentally cataloging a few items that he thinks might work.
"What about this?" Blaine says, reaching over him and pulling out one of Kurt's favorite sweaters. It's McQueen, and he'd worked extra shifts at the garage just to be able to afford it secondhand.
"Go sit on the bed," Kurt says, grabbing it back from Blaine. "You're horrible at this."
"I am not!" Blaine says, pouting at him. "Look, what about this, I've never seen you wear this!" he says, pulling out Kurt's recycled hemp trench coat. Kurt has an almost instant flashback to sitting in glee, breathless and flushed and watching Finn sing Hello, I Love You.
"Yes, actually," he says, grabbing it from Blaine and folding it over the back of a chair. "That is an excellent choice."
"See?" Blaine says proudly. "I'm awesome at this." Kurt rolls his eyes, because he's not ready to go that far yet, but Blaine does suggest a few good options as Kurt flips through the hangers.
"Oh hey, wait," Blaine says, grabbing Kurt's wrist and stilling him as he's flipping past the bright red button-down he'd worn to Rachel's disastrous party. "I remember this shirt."
"I'm surprised you remember anything from that night," Kurt mumbles.
"You look amazing in this shirt," Blaine says, ignoring him. "Don't you dare give it away."
"I wasn't planning on it," Kurt says airily, trying not to let on how much the compliment pleases him. He vaguely remembers Blaine grabbing at his shirt and saying "nicey nice" when Kurt dragged him up the stairs with Finn's help, but Kurt was still bitter over Blaine and Rachel's 'experimenting' and hadn't let himself think much of it.
"Oh, this one too," Blaine says, reaching for the soft, grey sweater Kurt had worn on their first official date. "I can't see you in this sweater without remembering that night," Blaine says quietly, stepping in closer to Kurt. "I spent that entire movie wanting to kiss you. I still have no idea what it was about."
"Me either," Kurt breathes out, laughing a little shakily. "I was too busy trying to work up the nerve to hold your hand."
"I was going to," Blaine whispers in his ear, pressing himself along Kurt's back. "But I was so nervous that my palms were sweating and I was scared I'd gross you out."
"That would hardly gross me out," Kurt says, feeling a pleasant heat creep up his spine as Blaine's lips trail over the back of Kurt's neck, just soft enough that Kurt closes his eyes and holds his breath in order to feel it. "Okay, okay," Kurt groans, moving away from Blaine and smacking his arm. "We need to stay focused. We're on a mission, Blaine. Think of the mission."
"Right, sorry," Blaine mumbles, not looking sorry at all, and Kurt can definitely feel the heat in his face when he glances down and notices that Blaine's hard.
"I think I might have some old t-shirts back here," Kurt says abruptly, digging farther back into his closet and clearing his throat when his voice comes out scratchy. "Unfortunately most of them are from Forever 21. Though I might have some over-sized sweatshirts. And maybe some clothes left over from my butch phase..."
Blaine chokes out a laugh next to Kurt, almost dropping the top hat he's holding. "You had a butch phase? Please tell me there's a story behind this."
"Oh Blaine," Kurt says, shooting Blaine a grin, "there are so many things you don't know about my past. And hopefully some things you will never, ever find out about."
"That absolutely sounds like a challenge," Blaine says, bumping his hip into Kurt's before going through hangers at the other end of Kurt's closet. "Kurt," Blaine says suddenly, his voice a little higher, "I don't suppose there's any way I can convince you to wear one of these skirts for me, is there?"
"Kilts," Kurt corrects absent-mindedly. "And not right now, but maybe in the future if you play your cards right." Kurt has actually been toying with the idea of wearing this more traditional kilt he's been working on to prom, but he hasn't brought prom up with Blaine yet. Not that he's afraid Blaine will say no, but every time Kurt thinks of bringing it up casually he gets all flustered. Prom is just a big deal, is all. Kurt's waiting for the perfect moment to ask. It'll happen.
"Score," Blaine says quietly, mostly to himself, and then, a minute later, "You-- you have ten-inch bedazzled heels. I feel like I don't know you at all, Kurt Hummel."
Kurt had completely forgotten about half of the stuff farther back in his closet, and he grins. "You're gay, Blaine. Think about it."
Blaine does, for about twenty seconds, and then, "Oh, Lady Gaga! McQueen, right. Hey, you didn't tell me you were on the gymnastics team at McKinley," Blaine says, pulling Kurt's Cheerios uniform out, his fingers tracing over the letters on the front.
"That's from cheerleading, not gymnastics. And shoot, I think I was supposed to return that last year when I quit." Kurt shrugs. "I'm surprised Coach Sylvester hasn't taken a hit out on me yet." Kurt glances over at Blaine but he's just staring down at the uniform, uncharacteristically still. "Blaine? I-- I was joking about her taking a hit out on me. She wouldn't go through nearly that much energy for one--"
"You never told me you were a cheerleader," Blaine says quietly, and Kurt freezes where he's rifting through his clothes, turning back to stare at Blaine.
"It just never came up," Kurt says slowly. "It's really not a big deal, it was a stint Mercedes and I pulled last year because Coach Sylvester promised us solos when we performed--" Kurt cuts off when Blaine grabs his wrist and tugs Kurt over to his bathroom, shoving the uniform into Kurt's arms. "Um, Blaine?"
"Please do me this one favor, Kurt?" Blaine asks, his voice suddenly rough and eyes dark and a little wild and Kurt's breath gets caught in his throat a little, because - when did that happen?
"You have a thing for cheerleaders," Kurt gasps, staring at Blaine accusingly, and Blaine laughs, his cheeks turning pink.
"It's not-- it's not a thing, I just. I really want to see you in this. Please?"
"I should have known from the moment you said you liked football," Kurt groans, stepping reluctantly into the bathroom. "All you boys are exactly the same."
"I promise I'll do something for you in return," Blaine says in a low voice, leaning in and brushing his lips over Kurt's, and Kurt feels his stomach twist at the things his mind automatically comes up with.
"Okay, okay. Go sit on the bed, I don't trust you to look through my closet when I'm not around."
"Yes, sir," Blaine says with a grin, saluting.
Kurt considers pointing out that he has entire section of his closet dedicated to military-themed jackets, but he's pretty sure that would only encourage Blaine.
-
Kurt feels patently ridiculous when he opens the bathroom door with a deep breath and steps out. He never felt particularly sexy in his Cheerio uniform, is the thing. He liked the tiny bit of power and status it afforded him, but he was under no illusions that he put it on and was magically some hot cheerleader. Or at least he hadn't been. Stepping out of the bathroom and watching Blaine's eyes go wide, watching him take in a shaky breath as his eyes move slowly down Kurt's body, well. Maybe he needs to re-evaluate some things.
"T-turn around," Blaine says, clearing his throat when his voice comes out rough. "Give me your best runway walk."
"You watch too much Top Model," Kurt says, rolling his eyes and walking as casually as possible toward Blaine before turning around and heading back for the bathroom door.
"I-- wow," Blaine says. "Come here." Kurt turns back toward Blaine and walks forward, only a little hesitant. Blaine's eyes are still wide and getting darker by the second, and once Kurt's close enough, he reaches out and settles his hands on Kurt's hips, squeezing lightly and tipping his head back to stare up at Kurt.
"Is there any chance," Blaine asks, his eyes never leaving Kurt's, "that you remember and would be willing to perform any of the cheers?" Kurt blushes almost immediately, because this whole thing is weird and awkward enough without him busting out his Cheerios moves. Not to mention attempting a back flip or toe touch right now would most certainly result in at least one of them going to the Emergency Room.
"N!" Kurt says, falsely bright, pumping his arm up in the air. "O!" he says, lifting his other arm up before extending them both out to the side and shaking imaginary pom-poms. "That spells NO!"
"Still hot," Blaine says, grinning up at him, and Kurt loses it then, starting to laugh until he slumps forward in Blaine's grip, Blaine's face pressed into his stomach as he giggles helplessly. "I don't know why you're laughing," Blaine says, nuzzling his face against the front of Kurt's uniform shirt. "Do you have any idea how good you look?"
"I have a pretty good idea of how crazy my boyfriend is," Kurt says, trying to hide his smile. It hasn't gotten old yet; Blaine complimenting him, and Blaine meaning it.
"I'd do this up against the mirror," Blaine says, squeezing at Kurt's hips and then pulling him forward, "but I don't wanna wait." Then Blaine's pulling him down, toppling them onto the bed and scrambling on top of Kurt, pressing him down into the mattress and kissing him hot and desperate while Kurt's still laughing.
"You were not kidding about your cheerleader thing, were you?" Kurt gasps as Blaine kisses down his neck and sucks at the hollow of his throat, right above the V of the uniform shirt.
"It's not just a cheerleader thing, dummy," Blaine groans, pulling back and skimming his hands up Kurt's sides. "It's you as a cheerleader, fuck. Imagine how you'd feel if you found out I was secretly, like, Marc Jacob's nephew or something."
"Wait, you're not, are you?" Kurt asks. He's mostly making fun of Blaine, but there's no harm in making sure.
"No, Kurt," Blaine says, rolling his eyes and then leaning down to nip at his jaw. "Sorry to disappoint."
"It's okay," Kurt sighs, tilting his head back so Blaine can get at his neck. "Keep doing that, you'll make it up to me."
"Are you actually giving me permission to give you hickeys?" Blaine asks, mouth open over that spot under Kurt's ear that drives him crazy, and Kurt grabs at the back of Blaine's shirt, trying to keep his own hips from arching up as Blaine sucks at the skin.
"I'm-- oh, oh, I don't care, just don't stop," Kurt gasps, and Blaine laughs right next to his ear, his mouth trailing up so he can kiss at Kurt's earlobe. Kurt shivers underneath Blaine, tilting his head further back into the pillow and whining. It shouldn't feel this good, Blaine's mouth on his ear, his hands sliding up and down Kurt's bare arms and then down to his hips, fingers pushing up underneath his shirt hesitantly, like he's waiting for Kurt to object. Kurt just bites back a moan when Blaine's hands smooth over the warm skin of Kurt's stomach before settling on his hips.
"Blaine," Kurt says softly, squirming and not entirely sure if he's trying to get away from Blaine's wet tongue by his ear or closer to it, because seriously, how does it feel so good?
"Mmm," Blaine hums, his lips trailing to the side of Kurt's jaw, leaving wet kisses there before he presses his lips back to Kurt's. Kurt kisses back as desperate and heated as he feels, his mouth open against Blaine's to kiss deeper, moaning when Blaine starts to roll his hips down. The friction feels amazing, and all Kurt wants to do is arch up and rub himself against Blaine, but Kurt's common sense inevitably kicks in and, well, they really, really don't have time before dinner.
"Blaine," Kurt groans, "come on, we can't--"
"Son of a bitch!" Burt bellows distantly from downstairs, and all of a sudden Blaine is pushing Kurt away and scrambling off of the bed in a panic.
"That came from downstairs, Blaine," Kurt huffs from the floor. Where he landed. When Blaine pushed him. "You pushed me."
"I thought... your dad," Blaine says, staring wide-eyed between Kurt and the barely open door.
"He probably just forgot to close the cupboard over the stove and hit his head again," Kurt says with a sigh, hauling himself off of the floor and straightening his uniform out. "But it's so comforting to know how you react in a crisis."
"Sorry," Blaine says, shrugging sheepishly. He's bright red and still completely hard, and Kurt wishes for a second that they could just get back on the bed and make out until they both come. He knows they can't, but god, does he still want to.
"Whatever," Kurt says, heading pointedly back to the closet and starting to rummage through his blazers. "Start folding those sweaters. I assume you picked up some tricks of the trade when you were stalking Jeremiah at the Gap?"
"I said I was sorry," Blaine says, coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist. Kurt never should have admitted he likes when Blaine does that. "Don't be mean."
"It's adorable that you think that's me being mean," Kurt says, but he relaxes back against Blaine anyway. He's cute when he grovels.
-
"There," Kurt says an hour or so later, staring at the pile of clothes on the end of his bed. "That's practically a new spring wardrobe."
"What is Sam going to do with a paisley bowler hat?" Blaine asks, tilting his head at the bed.
"He's going to be getting it out of my closet," Kurt says. "Plus his hair is looking horrid lately, maybe two wrongs will cancel each other out and he'll pull it off somehow."
"Such a generous soul," Blaine says, bouncing off the bed and kissing Kurt on the cheek.
"I know," Kurt says airily, plucking a fedora off of his hat rack and settling it on Blaine's head. "Hmm," he muses. "Maybe a newsboy, instead."
"Wait, are we playing dress-up?" Blaine says excitedly. "Because I want to try on the top hat."
-
"Oh my god," Blaine says a few minutes later, wobbling around Kurt's room. "I'm so tall."
"You look like a baby giraffe," Kurt giggles from the bed. Blaine's in his Gaga heels, a pair of suspenders, his favorite McQueen scarf, and the top hat. He's swaying dangerously with every step he takes and Kurt is so, so in love with him that it feels like he's going to explode.
"I look amazing," Blaine huffs. "Is this me returning that favor I owe you? By playing dress up?"
"Oh no," Kurt says, waving his hand nonchalantly. "That's going to involve far more planning. And possibly props."
"Props?" Blaine repeats, raising an eyebrow. "What kind of props are we talking here?"
"Oh, I don't know," Kurt says. "You're kind of working those heels, maybe I should get you some go-go boots and short shorts and find a cage for you to dance in." His actual plan involves much less pleather and much more football gear, but Blaine doesn't need to know that right now. He'll be insufferable once he realizes Kurt has a thing for football players and he has a thing for cheerleaders, and Kurt's roleplay tolerance is only so high.
Blaine doesn't say anything; he just smirks and starts humming, clomping over to Kurt and grabbing his hands, pulling Kurt to his feet. "These boots weren't made for walking!" Blaine sings loudly, spinning Kurt around. "So that's not what I'll do! Instead I'll just sway here and be so much taller than you!"
Kurt laughs breathlessly, letting Blaine turn them in a slow, wobbly circle. "C'mon boots!" Kurt sings, pressing his face to Blaine's chest and grinning at the light, fluttery feeling in his chest. Kurt's considering pushing Blaine down onto the bed so he can kiss him when Blaine stops humming abruptly and freezes, dropping his arms from around Kurt's waist.
"Blaine?" he asks, raising his head and looking at him curiously. "Why'd you-- what's wrong?" he asks when he sees the nervous, almost scared look on Blaine's face. Blaine pushes at his shoulder and Kurt turns around to see his dad leaning in the doorway, eyebrows raised.
"Do I wanna know?" he asks, looking pointedly at Kurt's Cheerio uniform and Blaine's mish-mash of accessories.
"We were just--" Kurt starts, but then Burt holds up a hand and shakes his head.
"You know what? No. I definitely don't wanna know. Dinner's almost done and Carole and Finn will be home in a few minutes, so get ready, okay?"
"Yes sir," Blaine says quickly, from behind him. Burt smiles at him warily, and then turns to go before reconsidering and turning back.
"Make sure you two are back in normal clothes for dinner," he says. "Well, as normal as you get, kiddo," he says, smiling at Kurt and heading back downstairs.
"Oh my god," Blaine groans, "your dad just saw me in ten-inch heels and a top hat. He's going to hate me."
"Nah," Kurt says, turning back around and stretching on his tip-toes to kiss Blaine's jaw. "Trust me, he's seen me in far, far worse."
Author: skintightsocks
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: 3,700+
Summary: "That's from cheerleading, not gymnastics. And shoot, I think I was supposed to return that last year when I quit." Kurt shrugs. "I'm surprised Coach Sylvester hasn't taken a hit out on me yet." Kurt glances over at Blaine but he's just staring down at the uniform, uncharacteristically still.
Spoilers: Set during episode 2x19
Warnings: None
Author Notes: Title is from the song "The Only Thing That Looks Good On Me Is You" by Bryan Adams. We really have no excuse for this, except a lingering need to write Cheerio!Kurt porn and a desire to dress Blaine up like a Barbie. We have no regrets.
There are moments when Kurt is entirely grateful to be in the kind of relationship he has with Blaine; the kind of relationship where, when Kurt tells Blaine he's been visiting Sam at a motel and Kurt's decided to share some of his clothes with him, Blaine just tells Kurt what an incredible person he is and offers to come over to help pick out clothes. It makes Kurt fluff up with pride to know that Blaine trusts him completely. Kurt trusts Blaine completely, of course, but it helps that he also still gets texts from the Warblers informing him that Blaine won't shut up about him or he's having a particularly mopey day or he just sang a melancholy ballad to the chair Kurt usually sat in at Warbler meetings.
Kurt's still in a good mood when Blaine comes over so he tugs him close once Blaine is inside the house, pressing their lips together quickly and pulling back with a grin tugging at his mouth. "Hello."
"Hey," Blaine says, a little dazed and flushed from outside, his hair not gelled down as much as usual, and Kurt is seriously considering turning this goodwill date into one very long and very awesome make out session as he starts to lead Blaine up to his room.
"Door open, Kurt," Burt calls to them from the kitchen when they reach the foot of the stairs, and Kurt rolls his eyes. Goodwill date it is, then.
"It's okay, dad! Blaine's just helping me go through my old clothes."
Burt steps out of the kitchen, staring up at them in his cooking apron. He's been getting more and more into cooking since he's usually home before Carole is and though Kurt would never tell his dad this, he finds it incredibly endearing what a good homemaker he's becoming.
"You're going through Kurt's closet?"
"Yes, Mr. Hummel," Blaine says, straightening up a little, and Kurt bites back a laugh.
Burt snorts. "Good luck, buddy. Last time I tried helping Kurt here with his wardrobe was back when he was eight. I'm never making that mistake again. He wouldn't talk to me for days."
"He kept trying to take my vests away from me," Kurt explains briskly before his dad can turn this into an 'embarrass Kurt' session. "Is it alright if Blaine stays for dinner?"
"Yeah, sure," Burt says, turning around to go back into the kitchen when the oven beeps. "But keep the closet door open too, Kurt."
Kurt rolls his eyes again, grabbing Blaine's hand as they start up the stairs. "Yes, dad. No gay sex in the closet, got it," he adds in a low voice, mostly hoping his dad doesn't actually hear that.
"I get to stay for dinner?" Blaine asks softly as soon as they get into Kurt's room and Kurt strategically shuts the door most of the way, until it's just barely cracked open. His dad will grumble when he inevitably comes upstairs to check on them, but this way at least Finn will take the hint.
"Oh, is that alright? I mean, I just figured you hadn't already had dinner, and my dad isn't that bad of a cook, I've been teaching him a lot--"
"I would be honored to stay for dinner," Blaine interrupts, reaching for Kurt's hand and lifting it so he can brush his lips over Kurt's knuckles in a gesture that should be kind of cheesy but just makes something in Kurt's chest flutter. He pulls away quickly, moving toward his closet in hopes that Blaine doesn't catch his blush.
"Okay," he says, "we're looking for things I no longer wear that will suit Sam, so that means anything with sequins is out."
"Would you say that discounts a fourth or an eighth of your wardrobe?" Blaine asks, stepping close behind Kurt and wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist.
"Hah," Kurt says dryly. "Oh Blaine, you're so funny. I can hardly contain my mirth."
"Good thing you like me for my body too, then," Blaine says, pressing said body closer to Kurt's back and nuzzling at the side of his neck. Kurt drops his head back against Blaine's shoulder on instinct, giving Blaine's mouth more room to skim his lips over Kurt's skin, and then he realizes what he's doing and pulls away, turning to glare at Blaine.
"I will send you downstairs to cook with my dad," Kurt says warningly. "Don't think that I won't."
"I'm not scared," Blaine says, even though his eyes have gone wide and are darting around nervously. "Your dad likes me. He said I could stay for dinner."
"I'll text him while you're going down the stairs and tell him what we did in the back of your car last weekend," Kurt says, raising an eyebrow.
"That's just hateful," Blaine says with a shiver, stepping away from Kurt quickly. "Hateful."
Kurt smiles sweetly at him and pecks him on the cheek before he turns back to his closet, mentally cataloging a few items that he thinks might work.
"What about this?" Blaine says, reaching over him and pulling out one of Kurt's favorite sweaters. It's McQueen, and he'd worked extra shifts at the garage just to be able to afford it secondhand.
"Go sit on the bed," Kurt says, grabbing it back from Blaine. "You're horrible at this."
"I am not!" Blaine says, pouting at him. "Look, what about this, I've never seen you wear this!" he says, pulling out Kurt's recycled hemp trench coat. Kurt has an almost instant flashback to sitting in glee, breathless and flushed and watching Finn sing Hello, I Love You.
"Yes, actually," he says, grabbing it from Blaine and folding it over the back of a chair. "That is an excellent choice."
"See?" Blaine says proudly. "I'm awesome at this." Kurt rolls his eyes, because he's not ready to go that far yet, but Blaine does suggest a few good options as Kurt flips through the hangers.
"Oh hey, wait," Blaine says, grabbing Kurt's wrist and stilling him as he's flipping past the bright red button-down he'd worn to Rachel's disastrous party. "I remember this shirt."
"I'm surprised you remember anything from that night," Kurt mumbles.
"You look amazing in this shirt," Blaine says, ignoring him. "Don't you dare give it away."
"I wasn't planning on it," Kurt says airily, trying not to let on how much the compliment pleases him. He vaguely remembers Blaine grabbing at his shirt and saying "nicey nice" when Kurt dragged him up the stairs with Finn's help, but Kurt was still bitter over Blaine and Rachel's 'experimenting' and hadn't let himself think much of it.
"Oh, this one too," Blaine says, reaching for the soft, grey sweater Kurt had worn on their first official date. "I can't see you in this sweater without remembering that night," Blaine says quietly, stepping in closer to Kurt. "I spent that entire movie wanting to kiss you. I still have no idea what it was about."
"Me either," Kurt breathes out, laughing a little shakily. "I was too busy trying to work up the nerve to hold your hand."
"I was going to," Blaine whispers in his ear, pressing himself along Kurt's back. "But I was so nervous that my palms were sweating and I was scared I'd gross you out."
"That would hardly gross me out," Kurt says, feeling a pleasant heat creep up his spine as Blaine's lips trail over the back of Kurt's neck, just soft enough that Kurt closes his eyes and holds his breath in order to feel it. "Okay, okay," Kurt groans, moving away from Blaine and smacking his arm. "We need to stay focused. We're on a mission, Blaine. Think of the mission."
"Right, sorry," Blaine mumbles, not looking sorry at all, and Kurt can definitely feel the heat in his face when he glances down and notices that Blaine's hard.
"I think I might have some old t-shirts back here," Kurt says abruptly, digging farther back into his closet and clearing his throat when his voice comes out scratchy. "Unfortunately most of them are from Forever 21. Though I might have some over-sized sweatshirts. And maybe some clothes left over from my butch phase..."
Blaine chokes out a laugh next to Kurt, almost dropping the top hat he's holding. "You had a butch phase? Please tell me there's a story behind this."
"Oh Blaine," Kurt says, shooting Blaine a grin, "there are so many things you don't know about my past. And hopefully some things you will never, ever find out about."
"That absolutely sounds like a challenge," Blaine says, bumping his hip into Kurt's before going through hangers at the other end of Kurt's closet. "Kurt," Blaine says suddenly, his voice a little higher, "I don't suppose there's any way I can convince you to wear one of these skirts for me, is there?"
"Kilts," Kurt corrects absent-mindedly. "And not right now, but maybe in the future if you play your cards right." Kurt has actually been toying with the idea of wearing this more traditional kilt he's been working on to prom, but he hasn't brought prom up with Blaine yet. Not that he's afraid Blaine will say no, but every time Kurt thinks of bringing it up casually he gets all flustered. Prom is just a big deal, is all. Kurt's waiting for the perfect moment to ask. It'll happen.
"Score," Blaine says quietly, mostly to himself, and then, a minute later, "You-- you have ten-inch bedazzled heels. I feel like I don't know you at all, Kurt Hummel."
Kurt had completely forgotten about half of the stuff farther back in his closet, and he grins. "You're gay, Blaine. Think about it."
Blaine does, for about twenty seconds, and then, "Oh, Lady Gaga! McQueen, right. Hey, you didn't tell me you were on the gymnastics team at McKinley," Blaine says, pulling Kurt's Cheerios uniform out, his fingers tracing over the letters on the front.
"That's from cheerleading, not gymnastics. And shoot, I think I was supposed to return that last year when I quit." Kurt shrugs. "I'm surprised Coach Sylvester hasn't taken a hit out on me yet." Kurt glances over at Blaine but he's just staring down at the uniform, uncharacteristically still. "Blaine? I-- I was joking about her taking a hit out on me. She wouldn't go through nearly that much energy for one--"
"You never told me you were a cheerleader," Blaine says quietly, and Kurt freezes where he's rifting through his clothes, turning back to stare at Blaine.
"It just never came up," Kurt says slowly. "It's really not a big deal, it was a stint Mercedes and I pulled last year because Coach Sylvester promised us solos when we performed--" Kurt cuts off when Blaine grabs his wrist and tugs Kurt over to his bathroom, shoving the uniform into Kurt's arms. "Um, Blaine?"
"Please do me this one favor, Kurt?" Blaine asks, his voice suddenly rough and eyes dark and a little wild and Kurt's breath gets caught in his throat a little, because - when did that happen?
"You have a thing for cheerleaders," Kurt gasps, staring at Blaine accusingly, and Blaine laughs, his cheeks turning pink.
"It's not-- it's not a thing, I just. I really want to see you in this. Please?"
"I should have known from the moment you said you liked football," Kurt groans, stepping reluctantly into the bathroom. "All you boys are exactly the same."
"I promise I'll do something for you in return," Blaine says in a low voice, leaning in and brushing his lips over Kurt's, and Kurt feels his stomach twist at the things his mind automatically comes up with.
"Okay, okay. Go sit on the bed, I don't trust you to look through my closet when I'm not around."
"Yes, sir," Blaine says with a grin, saluting.
Kurt considers pointing out that he has entire section of his closet dedicated to military-themed jackets, but he's pretty sure that would only encourage Blaine.
-
Kurt feels patently ridiculous when he opens the bathroom door with a deep breath and steps out. He never felt particularly sexy in his Cheerio uniform, is the thing. He liked the tiny bit of power and status it afforded him, but he was under no illusions that he put it on and was magically some hot cheerleader. Or at least he hadn't been. Stepping out of the bathroom and watching Blaine's eyes go wide, watching him take in a shaky breath as his eyes move slowly down Kurt's body, well. Maybe he needs to re-evaluate some things.
"T-turn around," Blaine says, clearing his throat when his voice comes out rough. "Give me your best runway walk."
"You watch too much Top Model," Kurt says, rolling his eyes and walking as casually as possible toward Blaine before turning around and heading back for the bathroom door.
"I-- wow," Blaine says. "Come here." Kurt turns back toward Blaine and walks forward, only a little hesitant. Blaine's eyes are still wide and getting darker by the second, and once Kurt's close enough, he reaches out and settles his hands on Kurt's hips, squeezing lightly and tipping his head back to stare up at Kurt.
"Is there any chance," Blaine asks, his eyes never leaving Kurt's, "that you remember and would be willing to perform any of the cheers?" Kurt blushes almost immediately, because this whole thing is weird and awkward enough without him busting out his Cheerios moves. Not to mention attempting a back flip or toe touch right now would most certainly result in at least one of them going to the Emergency Room.
"N!" Kurt says, falsely bright, pumping his arm up in the air. "O!" he says, lifting his other arm up before extending them both out to the side and shaking imaginary pom-poms. "That spells NO!"
"Still hot," Blaine says, grinning up at him, and Kurt loses it then, starting to laugh until he slumps forward in Blaine's grip, Blaine's face pressed into his stomach as he giggles helplessly. "I don't know why you're laughing," Blaine says, nuzzling his face against the front of Kurt's uniform shirt. "Do you have any idea how good you look?"
"I have a pretty good idea of how crazy my boyfriend is," Kurt says, trying to hide his smile. It hasn't gotten old yet; Blaine complimenting him, and Blaine meaning it.
"I'd do this up against the mirror," Blaine says, squeezing at Kurt's hips and then pulling him forward, "but I don't wanna wait." Then Blaine's pulling him down, toppling them onto the bed and scrambling on top of Kurt, pressing him down into the mattress and kissing him hot and desperate while Kurt's still laughing.
"You were not kidding about your cheerleader thing, were you?" Kurt gasps as Blaine kisses down his neck and sucks at the hollow of his throat, right above the V of the uniform shirt.
"It's not just a cheerleader thing, dummy," Blaine groans, pulling back and skimming his hands up Kurt's sides. "It's you as a cheerleader, fuck. Imagine how you'd feel if you found out I was secretly, like, Marc Jacob's nephew or something."
"Wait, you're not, are you?" Kurt asks. He's mostly making fun of Blaine, but there's no harm in making sure.
"No, Kurt," Blaine says, rolling his eyes and then leaning down to nip at his jaw. "Sorry to disappoint."
"It's okay," Kurt sighs, tilting his head back so Blaine can get at his neck. "Keep doing that, you'll make it up to me."
"Are you actually giving me permission to give you hickeys?" Blaine asks, mouth open over that spot under Kurt's ear that drives him crazy, and Kurt grabs at the back of Blaine's shirt, trying to keep his own hips from arching up as Blaine sucks at the skin.
"I'm-- oh, oh, I don't care, just don't stop," Kurt gasps, and Blaine laughs right next to his ear, his mouth trailing up so he can kiss at Kurt's earlobe. Kurt shivers underneath Blaine, tilting his head further back into the pillow and whining. It shouldn't feel this good, Blaine's mouth on his ear, his hands sliding up and down Kurt's bare arms and then down to his hips, fingers pushing up underneath his shirt hesitantly, like he's waiting for Kurt to object. Kurt just bites back a moan when Blaine's hands smooth over the warm skin of Kurt's stomach before settling on his hips.
"Blaine," Kurt says softly, squirming and not entirely sure if he's trying to get away from Blaine's wet tongue by his ear or closer to it, because seriously, how does it feel so good?
"Mmm," Blaine hums, his lips trailing to the side of Kurt's jaw, leaving wet kisses there before he presses his lips back to Kurt's. Kurt kisses back as desperate and heated as he feels, his mouth open against Blaine's to kiss deeper, moaning when Blaine starts to roll his hips down. The friction feels amazing, and all Kurt wants to do is arch up and rub himself against Blaine, but Kurt's common sense inevitably kicks in and, well, they really, really don't have time before dinner.
"Blaine," Kurt groans, "come on, we can't--"
"Son of a bitch!" Burt bellows distantly from downstairs, and all of a sudden Blaine is pushing Kurt away and scrambling off of the bed in a panic.
"That came from downstairs, Blaine," Kurt huffs from the floor. Where he landed. When Blaine pushed him. "You pushed me."
"I thought... your dad," Blaine says, staring wide-eyed between Kurt and the barely open door.
"He probably just forgot to close the cupboard over the stove and hit his head again," Kurt says with a sigh, hauling himself off of the floor and straightening his uniform out. "But it's so comforting to know how you react in a crisis."
"Sorry," Blaine says, shrugging sheepishly. He's bright red and still completely hard, and Kurt wishes for a second that they could just get back on the bed and make out until they both come. He knows they can't, but god, does he still want to.
"Whatever," Kurt says, heading pointedly back to the closet and starting to rummage through his blazers. "Start folding those sweaters. I assume you picked up some tricks of the trade when you were stalking Jeremiah at the Gap?"
"I said I was sorry," Blaine says, coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist. Kurt never should have admitted he likes when Blaine does that. "Don't be mean."
"It's adorable that you think that's me being mean," Kurt says, but he relaxes back against Blaine anyway. He's cute when he grovels.
-
"There," Kurt says an hour or so later, staring at the pile of clothes on the end of his bed. "That's practically a new spring wardrobe."
"What is Sam going to do with a paisley bowler hat?" Blaine asks, tilting his head at the bed.
"He's going to be getting it out of my closet," Kurt says. "Plus his hair is looking horrid lately, maybe two wrongs will cancel each other out and he'll pull it off somehow."
"Such a generous soul," Blaine says, bouncing off the bed and kissing Kurt on the cheek.
"I know," Kurt says airily, plucking a fedora off of his hat rack and settling it on Blaine's head. "Hmm," he muses. "Maybe a newsboy, instead."
"Wait, are we playing dress-up?" Blaine says excitedly. "Because I want to try on the top hat."
-
"Oh my god," Blaine says a few minutes later, wobbling around Kurt's room. "I'm so tall."
"You look like a baby giraffe," Kurt giggles from the bed. Blaine's in his Gaga heels, a pair of suspenders, his favorite McQueen scarf, and the top hat. He's swaying dangerously with every step he takes and Kurt is so, so in love with him that it feels like he's going to explode.
"I look amazing," Blaine huffs. "Is this me returning that favor I owe you? By playing dress up?"
"Oh no," Kurt says, waving his hand nonchalantly. "That's going to involve far more planning. And possibly props."
"Props?" Blaine repeats, raising an eyebrow. "What kind of props are we talking here?"
"Oh, I don't know," Kurt says. "You're kind of working those heels, maybe I should get you some go-go boots and short shorts and find a cage for you to dance in." His actual plan involves much less pleather and much more football gear, but Blaine doesn't need to know that right now. He'll be insufferable once he realizes Kurt has a thing for football players and he has a thing for cheerleaders, and Kurt's roleplay tolerance is only so high.
Blaine doesn't say anything; he just smirks and starts humming, clomping over to Kurt and grabbing his hands, pulling Kurt to his feet. "These boots weren't made for walking!" Blaine sings loudly, spinning Kurt around. "So that's not what I'll do! Instead I'll just sway here and be so much taller than you!"
Kurt laughs breathlessly, letting Blaine turn them in a slow, wobbly circle. "C'mon boots!" Kurt sings, pressing his face to Blaine's chest and grinning at the light, fluttery feeling in his chest. Kurt's considering pushing Blaine down onto the bed so he can kiss him when Blaine stops humming abruptly and freezes, dropping his arms from around Kurt's waist.
"Blaine?" he asks, raising his head and looking at him curiously. "Why'd you-- what's wrong?" he asks when he sees the nervous, almost scared look on Blaine's face. Blaine pushes at his shoulder and Kurt turns around to see his dad leaning in the doorway, eyebrows raised.
"Do I wanna know?" he asks, looking pointedly at Kurt's Cheerio uniform and Blaine's mish-mash of accessories.
"We were just--" Kurt starts, but then Burt holds up a hand and shakes his head.
"You know what? No. I definitely don't wanna know. Dinner's almost done and Carole and Finn will be home in a few minutes, so get ready, okay?"
"Yes sir," Blaine says quickly, from behind him. Burt smiles at him warily, and then turns to go before reconsidering and turning back.
"Make sure you two are back in normal clothes for dinner," he says. "Well, as normal as you get, kiddo," he says, smiling at Kurt and heading back downstairs.
"Oh my god," Blaine groans, "your dad just saw me in ten-inch heels and a top hat. He's going to hate me."
"Nah," Kurt says, turning back around and stretching on his tip-toes to kiss Blaine's jaw. "Trust me, he's seen me in far, far worse."