"You don't need to make yourself look so handsome," Quinn says cheekily, kicking her feet up onto the coffee table and opening the latest issue ofVogueto look at the spread on Kurt's latest collection. "He's just a carrier."

"Blaine isn't just a carrier, Quinn," Kurt chided, holding two ties up side by side to compare them against the lavender of his shirt. "No one is. They're all people who are wonderful enough to dedicate their lives to giving children to those who can't have them biologically. And Blaine is special to me. He's why I changed the terms of the usual contract, like I told you about, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah, weekly meetings so you can get to know him better before you do the deed and wait for the baby to come before you get the hell out and let him move on to the next client," Quinn says. "The dark purple tie, by the way. For what it's worth, you look great."

"If you call Marie and finish arranging that interview for me, even though you hate talking to her assistant, I will pick us up curries on the way back and give you all the details," Kurt says, smiling as Quinn immediately picks up the phone. She offers up her cheek and he kisses it and ruffles her hair fondly, ducking out of the way before she can do the same as he leaves, determined to be on time for his appointment with Blaine. To see Blaine.

Blaine's waiting once Kurt's arrived and smiled at Emma who welcomed him in with open arms, sitting on the edge of the bed in his room, and his entire being visibly brightens when Kurt walks in, tamping down the urge to wrap his arms around the man and lift him into a warm hug. "I booked a table at Breadstix, which is, of course, the height of sophisticated restaurants in this grand state of Ohio, and it'll be ready in half an hour in case you want to change. If you don't, we can walk there, it's a gorgeous day."

"I think I'd like to get changed, I'm not dressed for a beautiful candlelit dinner at Breadstix," Blaine says with a soft teasing smile, gesturing down at his loose shirt and sweatpants. "Just, give me a moment, and please don't judge my fashion sense too harshly. Let go of the part of your mind that critiques people's clothes and just be yourself."

Kurt smiles and sits down on the edge of the bed, averting his eyes courteously as Blaine pulls his shirt over his head, hearing the rustling of clothes and the click and swish of coathangers. He only looks up when Blaine says his name, and smiles over his ensemble, the glimpse of ankle between the meticulously polished black shoes and the hems of his bright red jeans that he somehow makes work, and the striped bowtie resting neatly against the black of his shirt. "You look great, and that's the incredibly judging of people's fashion sense Kurt talking," he says sweetly, stepping forward to adjust the bowtie without thinking about his actions first. For a moment they gaze at each other, and Kurt looks at the first man he's been given the opportunity to kiss in two years, Blaine's eyes slightly closed and his lips parted, his breath too loud in Kurt's ears, and for a moment he almost lowers his mouth to match Blaine's.

But he can't. They agreed to take it slow, it's the purpose of the meetings, otherwise they'd be wearing a lot less clothes and be sliding and grinding together on the bed instead of standing close, lips tantalisingly close and yet so far away from each other's. "Okay, we better go or we might miss our reservation, and we all know how in demand Breadstix is," he says, pulling away and turning to lift his foot onto the bed and fix the laces of his shoe, fiddling with his tie.

It takes only a brief moment for them to fall into step when they're outside in the clear, crisp day, the dry skeletons of fallen leaves blowing past their feet as they walk in a companionable silence. Out of the corner of his eyes, Kurt sees Blaine shivering in the rolling winds drifting past them, and rummages in his satchel for a spare scarf, turning to him and looping it around his neck, pulling it tight against his skin and buttoning his coat up further. "We don't want you to catch a cold," he says softly, wanting to kiss him again but stopping himself. Blaine smiles and squeezes his hand as he pulls away, his fingers brushing for the briefest moment against the soft skin of Blaine's shaven cheek.

In Breadstix, sitting in one of the booths with a plate of spaghetti bolognese for two between them, Kurt can't help but want to kiss Blaine over and over again, every little thing making him more intensely attractive, from his table manners to the shine of his eyes when he talks about his work, or asks Kurt about himself, his attentive smile when Kurt was talking.

"Oh, wait, I've got one," Blaine says, taking another sip of his coffee and offering Kurt an utterly dazzling smile. "Ryder, one of the other boys in the centre, had a client who had...issueswith performing. Bedroom-wise."

"You are kidding me!" Kurt exclaims through his laughter, spearing his last piece of brownie on his fork. "So did Ryder actually get pregnant with him, or did Emma have to sweetly explain that his little issue meant he couldn't really get him pregnant?"

"Eventually, Emma took him aside and offered him pills to help, and Ryder ended up pregnant first time as soon as the client stopped being stubborn, and he ended up with fraternal twins and was very pleased with the consideration of the centre," Blaine says with a smile. "Can we start walking back now? It's a really beautiful night and I can't possibly eat another bite."

He starts pulling out his wallet to count out change, but Kurt covers Blaine's hand with his to stop him. "Don't you bother, silly, I'm paying for this," he says, extracting his own wallet. "If you have a problem, you can pay for the pizzas I'm already planning for us to have next time." Blaine smiles and Kurt can't help the thrill that sings through his veins when Blaine slides their fingers together as they leave, swinging their entwined hands between them as they walked through the orange-striped streets.

"I had a great time," Kurt says when they reach the steps of the centre, as Blaine turns to him, unwrapping Kurt's scarf from around his neck and pressing it back into his hands, his face lit up beneath the glow of the streetlamps.

"Me too," Blaine says sweetly, squeezing Kurt's hand and giving him a bright, dizzyingly happy smile. "I can't wait to go out with you again. I'm so glad you decided to go this way with what we're doing."

Kurt goes to kiss Blaine's cheek in thanks for a wonderful evening and everything they'll share in the future, but Blaine turns his head before Kurt's lips brush his cheek, and their mouths end up meeting in a sweet, brief kiss. Kurt breaks away after a moment, a flush nestling high in his cheeks and his eyes starry and unfocused. "I'll see you at the same time next week," he says, and Blaine drifts into the centre with a little wave.

When Kurt stops off to buy Quinn her curry, he can't stop smiling, and he doesn't stop, even when Quinn lectures him about her awful conversation with Marie. Now he knows, he really knows, that the father of his child is sweet and smart and charming and funny.

And the most perfect kisser Kurt has ever had the pleasure of being so close to.