4 hours later

“What do you think?” Mercedes asked, a smile wide on her face as she stepped proudly out of the dressing room and gave Kurt a twirl.

“Beautiful” Kurt said, applauding loudly despite the strange looks the other shoppers were giving him. He ignored them all of course; he was used to strange looks anyway.

“I think this is the one, Kurt!” Mercedes squeaked excitedly, Kurt nodding eagerly in agreement. They were shopping for a dress for Mercedes to wear for her date tonight, with Chuck Lawrence of all people.

“I still can’t believe Chuck asked you out.” Kurt said, shaking his head a little in disbelief. It’s not that Kurt didn’t think Mercedes was gorgeous enough to get a guy like Chuck Lawrence, but this is Chuck Lawrence we're talking about; he’s almost as popular as Blaine. Chuck is captain of the football team, and up until a few days ago Kurt didn’t think Chuck even knew the Glee clubbers existed. But then Mercedes had rang him excitedly and told him that Chuck had asked her out, and ever since then he’d been re-thinking his view on football players.

“I know right!” Mercedes said as she stepped out of the changing rooms, fully dressed this time in her normal clothes with the soon-to-be-bought dress clutched tightly in her left hand. “Chuck Lawrence is flawless.”

“I hear his hair is insured for $10,000” Kurt chimed in with a smirk, both of them waltzing towards the cashiers.

“I heard he does car commercials...in Japan.” Mercedes said as they approached the cash registers. When Mercedes had done paying, they headed over into Target to just do some general shopping. While Kurt rolled his eyes at the idea of low thread count sheets, Mercedes still forced him to come in with her to buy things for herself, as she didn't mind a good bargain.

Kurt rambled on about low quality shampooing damaging your skin as Mercedes searched for her favorite blue shampoo bottle, after a while of trying to talk some sense into her (which he did every time they visited Target together, Mercedes noted) about the dangers of cheap products on your body, he gave up and slumped over to the clothes section to see if he could pick up a bargain here or there; while Targets body products may be horrific, Kurt had to admit that their clothes section wasn’t half bad.

Kurt let his mind drift off as he walked along the aisles of men’s clothes, wondering what exactly he had been dreaming about last night. He scoured his brain, his cheeks turning a rosy pink when a vivid image of Blaine popped into his mind. Blaine was on his back, sweat beads collecting along the creases of his forehead, his caramel eyes turned black with lust. Kurt had to reach out and grab onto the clothes rail as he saw the moving image in his mind, like a short movie. Blaine arched his back with a loud moan, his naked body writhing on the sheets as Kurt stroked him to oblivion. Kurt saw the back of his head lean down, and saw his lips kiss a messy path up Blaine’s neck to his ear, before whispering filthy things in it. Whatever Kurt had said struck something inside Blaine, because without so much as a beat Blaine’s toes were curling and he was coming, moaning loudly as he shot white ropes between them.
Kurt tried to stifle the whimper climbing up his throat but didn’t manage it, his eyes flying closed as he thought about how good Blaine would feel on top of him, his body covering Kurt’s, the warmth vibrating between them. Kurt’s eyes shot open almost as quickly as they’d closed; realizing for the first time that his cock was straining against the tight fabric of his jeans, and that there were several customers around that could see how turned on he was.

Kurt stumbled to the nearest dressing room, cursing under his breath as the urge to touch himself scratched at his palms. He yanked the curtain closed, letting his head fall back against the wall with a thud. The thoughts of Blaine kept coming: his masculine scent; his muscular thighs and abs; his toned stomach muscles and what they would feel like contracting under Kurt’s hand; the V that led down to Blaine’s...y’know. Kurt couldn’t help himself from picturing Blaine pinning him to the bed, chest flush against the covers as he slammed roughly into him, Blaine’s thighs pressed tightly against his hips to hold him in place, making him take everything Blaine wanted to give him.

Kurt’s eyes flicked up to the mirror opposite him and saw his hand
rubbing against his crotch, little shivers running through him as he imagined it was Blaine’s hand.

“...Kurt?” He heard Mercedes call, and all of a sudden he snapped out of the trance he was in, straightening his back and clearing his dry throat.

“In here” Kurt called back, his eyes widening as he heard the deep voice leave his throat, fuck. The curtain was shoved open suddenly to reveal Mercedes, her brow raised as her eyes met his.

“Ok spill.” Mercedes demanded, registering the blackness in Kurt’s eyes, and the deep red blush covering his cheeks and neck; something was definitely up.

“What?” Kurt asked, forcing himself to laugh but failing and making a slightly choked noise; note to self: don’t try to laugh with a throat like sandpaper.

“Kurt, I know something is up with you.”

“I’m fine, Mercedes.” Kurt reassured, standing properly and slipping past her out of the small cubicle.

“You’re going to tell me, white boy.” Kurt flinched a little at Mercedes’ stern voice, knowing that he’d get a whole load of crap if he didn’t just come clean. The problem was he couldn’t come clean, this was all too...embarrassing, Kurt would never be able to admit his thoughts about Blaine to anybody, not even Mercedes who was like the Bonnie to his Clyde. Kurt ended up making something up about worrying about his dads health(though he was worried, he wasn’t hiding-in-a-Target-dressing-room worried yet), and instantly Mercedes dropped the subject, pulling him into a quick hug and grabbing his hand to drag him to the tills.

Soon they had to head their different ways, Kurt wishing Mercedes luck on her date tonight before he got out of her car and ran up the drive to his house. He waved once more before heading inside and closing the door, he rushed upstairs with his bags and started packing all the new clothes he’d purchased today away.

Kurt’s phone buzzed with a text as he was hanging up the new Alexander McQueen jacket he’d got. Kurt reached over to grab his phone and opened the text.

(5:18pm)
You ready for tonight?

He re-read it several times, his stomach churning as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. After another minute of hasty thoughts, Kurt typed his reply before he could change his mind.

(5.20pm)
Yes. Pick me up at eight.