It was prom night. Kurt wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. Junior prom had been a disaster and he didn’t want to risk a re-run of those events, but he felt like he would regret not going if he just stayed home and snuggled with Blaine.
He had mulled over the whole thing, the dilemma of it all, months in advance. It was impossible not to dwell on all the negative possibilities – he could be crowned prom queen again, for Christ’s sake; he could be assaulted…
Anything could happen.
Blaine stood behind Kurt, peering over his shoulder into Kurt’s vanity mirror. “You look pale,” he remarked gently, putting a hand on Kurt’s shoulder. “Are you all right? We don’t have to do this, you know,” he reassured Kurt, nervously adjusting his tie for what had to be the hundredth time since he had put it on.
“No, Blaine. We do,” Kurt whispered, torn, “because if we don’t…I’ll regret it. This is my last chance to experience a social gathering that is seen as a rite of passage…a rite of passage that was horrible the first time, but has potential to be good the second. I can’t just let that slip by.” He said these words to convince himself, just as much as Blaine, that he was making the right decision.
“I don’t want to force you into anything,” Kurt murmured dejectedly. “So if you don’t want to do this…I understand.”
Blaine shook his head quickly. “I want to do this,” he clarified. “I’m just nervous.”
“That makes two of us,” Kurt said, jumping when Finn walked in. Kurt and Blaine both spun to face him. Blaine tugged on his tie again, something Kurt had started to recognize as a nervous habit.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Finn said through a mouthful of potato chips. He flicked a crumb off the suit jacket that was draped over his arm and watched the couple in front of him, smiling awkwardly. Though he had gotten used to the fact that Kurt was gay and dating Blaine, there was still something vaguely unsettling about seeing his stepbrother standing arm in arm with another boy.
“It’s okay,” Blaine said, smiling at Finn and reaching out to clap him on the back. “Kurt and I were just…well.” He paused for a moment, pondering his choice of words. “Commiserating, you could say.”
“Over…?” Finn inquired, pulling another fistful of chips from the bag and making an obnoxious crinkling sound as he did so that caused Kurt and Blaine to cringe.
“You are such a boy,” Kurt sighed, snatching the Lays away from Finn and pitching the now-empty bag into his wastebasket. “Do you ever stop eating?”
Finn actually had to think for a moment.
“Uh…no,” he finally replied.
Kurt rolled his eyes and ignored Finn’s stupidity. “For your information, we’re sort of terrified by the prospect of actually going to prom together.”
Comprehension finally dawned on Finn’s face. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” Kurt sighed, irritated, holding Blaine’s hand and navigating around Finn into the living room.
“I’ll just go get changed,” Finn murmured, shuffling off.
Kurt and Blaine had the room to themselves for a moment. Blaine used the brief solitude to kiss Kurt chastely on the lips; his boyfriend tasted like the sprigs of mint that had been floating in their shared virgin mojito.
“Don’t be afraid.”
“With you, I’m not.”
The night passed without any catastrophes. None of Kurt’s nightmarish imaginings became reality – he was not served spiked punch (or pushed into the bowl), no one stuck tampons to his suit jacket, and only one or two people booed when he and Blaine slow danced towards the end of the event.
Finn bounded over to them, looking flushed. His hair had been perfectly combed into submission before the trio had left for McKinley, but it was now disheveled. Kurt and Blaine exchanged a glance, raising their eyebrows at one another and snickering. It was obvious they hadn’t been the only two locking lips that evening.
“Prom pictures!” He yelled excitedly, catching Rachel by the arm and frog-marching Kurt, who was attached to Blaine and wearing an expression of utter horror, into the line of fellow students and couples awaiting their turn in front of the camera.
“Do something about your hair,” Kurt hissed, producing a comb seemingly out of thin air.
“There’s nothing wrong with my hair.”
“To put it bluntly,” Blaine countered, “you not only look like you’ve been dragged backwards through a hedge, but as though you’ve had sex as well – possibly while being dragged through that hedge.”
“That’s what she said,” Kurt snickered. “Never use the words ‘sex’ and ‘dragged’ in the same sentence.”
“Or ‘hedge,’” Finn murmured, cheeks now darkening to a deep crimson color. “Why do I know you people?” He sighed.
Rachel looked totally appalled. “Why am I dating one of you?”
“If you just cost me my relationship…” Finn’s threat died away as he and Rachel moved up in line, finally stepping onto the little red carpet that marked the photographing area.
Their photo was snapped quickly; they declined the free polaroids that were offered as a temporary placeholder for the professional copy of their portrait.
Kurt and Blaine stepped onto the carpet together, holding hands. Their fingers were wound so tightly, Kurt’s hand was starting to go numb. Truthfully, he didn’t mind the loss of sensation because when he stood this close to Blaine, every other part of his body was hyperaware of Blaine’s presence beside him.
The photographer looked surprised at seeing a gay couple at prom, but said nothing, simply taking a series of pictures before brusquely waving them on. Kurt accepted the polaroid; he was saving it for the part of his locker devoted to Blaine.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Blaine commented once the four of them were outside in the cool night air.
“No, it wasn’t.” Kurt smiled, almost imperceptibly wetting his lips. “Because I get to do this.”
He caught Blaine by surprise with the deepest, most intimate kiss they had shared so far.
A whoop and a cry of “Get some!” from Finn, followed by a punch to his arm from Rachel, shattered the quiet that had descended when Kurt stood on his toes and pulled Blaine’s chin down so their lips met.
Kurt and Blaine were oblivious to the noise. This was the perfect ending to the night they’d dreamed about for as long as they could remember, and nothing – not even the antics of an obnoxious stepbrother and his diva of a girlfriend – could ruin that.