Kurt raises an eyebrow. “I should be insulted that you asked, because I picked this outfit, this jacket is Prada, and since when have I ever put you in a terrible outfit?”

Blaine grins. “There was that one outfit that was skintight and see through…I don’t think I’ve ever been hit on so many times in my life.”

“Well we WERE at a gay bar, Blaine. Technically that’s a good thing. Although I was a little pissed, that people were flirting with what was mine.”

“Oh, Kurt,” Blaine says teasingly, “How nice to know you care.”

He stumbles a little as Kurt gently punches him in the shoulder. “You look absolutely dashing, Blaine, and you know it. Are you nervous?”

“Uh, a little. Your parents are going to freak out when we tell them we’re engaged.” He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in a way that makes Kurt lick his suddenly dry lips.

“I remember when I used to get nervous,” Kurt smirks, ignoring the nervous flutters in his stomach.

“Don’t judge me,” Blaine says breathlessly, remembering the same moment from many years ago.

“Well i think it’s adorable,” Kurt says. “I think you’re adorable.”

“We are such cheeseballs,” Blaine says, giggling a little.

Kurt takes his boyfriend’s—excuse me, his fianc�e’s—hands in his.

“Burt and Carole, and Finn for that matter, love you. They aren’t even going to be surprised. They all know we’ve been living together for 7 years. We’re practically married as it is.” He smiles gently at Blaine, eyes blazing bright and blue.

“God, I know, I’m being stupid, but…this is…it’s so big. Your dad is going to KILL me for not asking him first!” Blaine looks panicked for a moment.

Kurt just rolls his eyes. “I’m not his precious baby girl, Blaine. Permission unnecessary.”

“That’s what you think, Kurt. You should SEE the way he looks at me sometimes…”

“Dad loves you. And so do I.” Kurt slides his hands up Blaine’s arms and pulls his face up to his. He kisses him sweetly, but Blaine’s having none of that. He licks along Kurt’s bottom lip, nipping and sucking until Kurt finds himself wrapping his arms around Blaine’s neck and trying not to moan.

“Do you remember,” Blaine says roughly as they pull apart, “when I’d drive you home, and we’d stand out here until your curfew, and I’d shove you against this very door, and—”

“Blaine!” Kurt scolds. “We can’t go into my parent’s house sporting matching rings AND matching boners!”

Blaine bursts out laughing as Kurt glares down at him.

“If you’re done,” Kurt says fondly, smoothing down the collar on Blaine’s jacket, “let’s go inside.’

One of Blaine’s hands reaches for the doorbell, one of them for Kurt’s hand to give it one last squeeze.

“Yeah. Let’s do this.”