Today had been a normal day: boring yet mentally exhausting. Senior year was monotonous when it came to school work. The classes at McKinley sure were different from Dalton's collegiate-preparatory ones. Glee was booming with the typical drama, talent, ideas, everything. Naturally, this got him through the day. Lunch and glee. He got to see friends during those times.

But what made his day brighter, what inspired him, shook him out of the lethargic daze? Seeing Blaine Anderson. Those vividly hazel eyes, the triangular eyebrows, the contagious smile that permeated every room, the defined arm muscles in constraining shirts, the bow ties on said shirts, the deep belly laugh, the fact that he switched schools to be with him, everything about Blaine set Kurt's nerve endings off and left a fluttering in his stomach. The relationship had been like this for eight months. If it was just a fling, Kurt was fairly sure he wouldn't still feel giddy and bubbly at Blaine's touches after all that time. It just affirmed that they were in love. True love. Made for one another. Blaine was the one for Kurt and vice versa. Kurt wanted to take a step forward tonight, if possible.

The West Side Story soundtrack was playing on his speakers as Kurt stood in front of the walk-in closet. He never had a dilemma on school days with finding what to wear because he had a variety of garments already chosen and laid out. However, date nights, like tonight, were special. Blaine's junior exams were finally over, so they could have more time to relax with each other rather than the tumultuous studying that had gone down the preceding week. Tonight's plans were to go to the only genuine French restaurant in Ohio, then go back to Blaine's house where they would be alone. Hint, hint. Of course, Kurt would sleep over. He could because it was Friday. Kurt's dad began allowing these "sleepovers" a couple of months ago during the summer. Burt thought Kurt old enough (and he wanted the whining to stop) so he permitted, only a tad hesitantly.

Kurt still stood in front of his closet. All he had chosen so far were tight, black pants that always went with everything, including the two tops he hadn't decided on yet. Sighing in frustration, he grabbed the two shirts from their hangers and proceeded up the stairs of his basement bedroom. In the living room, he found his stepmother sitting alone. She was his fashion accountability partner. Sure, she wasn't into high fashion, but she had a good eye for sensibility, and Kurt liked to get her opinion.

"Hey, Carole?" he interrupted her silence. The modest woman sat comfortably on the couch, flipping through a Better Homes and Gardens magazine. She looked up at hearing her stepson's voice.

"Hey, Kurt! What's up?" she smiled.

"Date night," Kurt stated simply as he held up an intricate McQueen pullover and the white button-down Marc Jacobs- equally excellent options.

"Are you coming back home afterwards?" Carole questioned.

"Nope. I'm sleeping at Blaine's," Kurt replied, feeling the heat of a blush erupting in his face. Carole gave a chuckle and pointed toward the Marc Jacobs shirt.

"That one's easier to deal with when you... yeah," she outwardly laughed now. Kurt attempted to match it, trying to downplay his embarrassment.

"When we… yeah. Okay. Thanks, Carole!" He then flounced back to his bedroom. His iPod was now playing "Teenage Dream".

How appropriate, he thought. That song meant the world to both him and Blaine. Their theme song, if you will. Kurt walked to his floor length mirror beside the bathroom. He scanned toe-to-head for perfection. Black military boots, black jeans, the white button shirt, skinny purple tie, coiffed hair. Not too showy, nor too casual. Fancy restaurant attire. Kurt gave a slight smirk at his reflection before turning on his heels, grabbing the keys off his armoire, and leaving his room.

"Leaving now, Dad. See you tomorrow," Kurt announced to his father sitting with Carole now. Burt sat in front of the TV set watching a football game, Carole occupied with another magazine. Burt took a look at Kurt and shook his head with a smile.

"You look good, kiddo. Drive safe and have fun," he said.

With a flamboyant wave of his hand, Kurt went to his Navigator before checking to see if the small item that fueled most of his excitement for tonight was still in his back pocket.

Thirty minutes of ruminating over what would go down tonight brought Kurt on Blaine's front doorstep in Westerville. A prominent, white two-story house with lights on at the front. Kurt rang the doorbell. Blaine must've been waiting adjacent to the door because not two seconds elapsed and Kurt was gifted with the sight of an excited boyfriend.

Blaine was bouncing on his toes, clad in brown loafers. His blue pants were of course rolled to reveal some ankle, and he wore a black v-neck with a beige cardigan. Scrumptious. Kurt was mentally covering Blaine's collar bone with a hickey.

"Uhm… Kurt?" a disembodied voice called out.

"Hmm.. Yeah?" Kurt slightly shook his daze out. "Oh, sorry. You just look totally hot right now," he practically moaned. Blaine chuckled and kissed Kurt's lips lovingly.

"I could say the same about you," he shot back. Kurt smiled and stepped back to allow Blaine to step out of the door frame to lock the house.

"You never told me exactly where we were going. Only to dress, slightly 'chichi' as you put it. I actually had to look that up!" Blaine exclaimed almost embarrassed. Kurt laughed and started the car.

"Antoine Bistro in Parka," he finally conceded. Blaine let out a low whistle.

"How romantic and totally expensive. I'm excited!" he smiled, buckling himself into the passenger's seat of Kurt's car.

"Well, we are celebrating you finishing exams. Plus, it's just different from our normal Lima Bean and Breadstix," Kurt shrugged and smiled as Blaine grabbed one of his hands from the steering wheel, intertwining it within his fingers.

The drive from Westerville to Parka was roughly forty minutes, but the two lovers found entertainment in the radio, singing to each other, or small chat. Finally, they pulled up to a fantastic modern building. Kurt parked the Navigator. They got out and walked arm in arm to the entrance. Once inside, Kurt guided them to a podium, where a lady with a sharp European nose and elegantly pinned hair greeted them with a smile.

"Do you have reservations?" she asked in a thick French accent, which Kurt duly noted. The restaurant was notorious for fluent French employees.

"R�servations pour Hummel (Reservations for Hummel)," he announced in a low voice.

"Tr�s bien, monsieur. Suivez-moi (Very good, mister. Follow me)." She turned and began walking through the dimly lit dining room. Kurt gripped Blaine's bicep and grinned. His boyfriend's face, however, had clouded with thoughts, checking out his surroundings. Kurt laughed.

"You good, Blaine?" he nudged the boy.

"Yeah. This place is beautiful! Uhm... Did you just speak French?" Kurt opened his mouth to speak, but they were at he table.

"Votre serveur sera bient�t l� (Your server will be here soon)," she said curtly before excusing herself.

"Merci (Thank you)," Kurt replied seamlessly. Blaine cocked his head but looked down at the menu in front of him. His eyes widened, taking in the words.

"This is all in French!" he noted, scrunching his eyes in an attempt to make sense of the foreign language.

"Well, this is a French restaurant, love," Kurt smiled fondly at his boyfriend's antics.

"I honestly just want water as a drink, but… I'm actually lost on the actual food," he pouted a little. Kurt placed a hand on top of Blaine's.

"I'll order for you. Relax," he consoled, giving a giggle. Blaine visibly relaxed, finding Kurt simply adorable.

"Bonsoir, messieurs (Good evening, misters). May I take your order?" A tall, thin man with jet black hair and donning a black apron had come up to their table.

"Oui. Nous allons prendre de l'eau. Pour le plat principal, nous allons partager les crevettes cognac avec sauce au beurre blanc (Yes. We will take water. For the main course, we will share the cognac shrimp with beurre blanc)," Kurt issued confidently and quickly. Blaine almost choked on the air he was breathing in. The way Kurt's voice droned in the European tones was beautiful and graceful, like silk running over smooth skin.

"Tr�s bien monsieur. F�tez-vous quelque chose ce soir (Very good, sir. Are you celebrating something tonight)?" the waiter questioned cordially.

"J'ai un cadeau � lui offrir. Il ne le sait pas. Et c'est donc une bonne chose qu'il ne puisse pas nous comprendre (I'm giving him a present tonight. He doesn't know. And it's a good thing he can't understand us)," Kurt chuckled. The waiter gave an understanding nod and a genuine smile.

"F�licitations. I will put your order in." With that, he sauntered away to his job.

"Uh, Kurt?" Blaine began, trying to form coherent thoughts in his head.

"Oui?" Kurt responded then blushed. "I mean, yeah?" he blundered.

"You know French?" Blaine questioned. Kurt rubbed the back of his neck with a bit of shame.

"Yes, I do. It's a complicated story though," Kurt commented. Blaine scoffed playfully.

"We have time. And I demand an explanation for this talent that I had no idea about," he chided lightly, yet still in a small haze. Kurt was skeptical as to why that was, clearly seeing through Blaine, so he sprung right into a simplification.

"My mom was bilingual. She spoke to me in French, wanting me to learn the language as well. I guess I grew up bilingual then?" Kurt trailed off into memory lane, but shook his head back to reality, saying "Anyway, when she died, I wanted to continue her legacy of sorts. I feel like I'm showing respect to her in a way. I don't know. Does this make sense?"

Blaine tightened his grip of Kurt's soft hand. He gave a smile.

"Yeah, totally. That's pretty amazing of you. You're just so incredible," he claimed with a tap to Kurt's nose.

"Merci, mon amour (Thank you, my love)," Kurt replies flawlessly.

"That's really hot," Blaine dumbly stated, receiving a snicker from Kurt.

"Really? You think?" Blaine leaned into Kurt's shoulder.

"You don't know how sexy it sounds," he whispered into the boy's ear. Kurt shuddered at Blaine's warm breath and flashes of what they would most likely be doing later graced his head.

"Je veux te torturer. Ce soir je parlerai fran�ais (I want to torture you. I will speak in French tonight)," Kurt murmured with a sultry look. Blaine groaned. Even though he didn't have the slightest clue what Kurt just said, being brought up with only Italian as a foreign language, he knew Kurt meant to tease. That demure glance of his baby blues could only mean one thing.

"I think," Blaine paused and took a deep breath before continuing, "you should refrain from speaking in French. This is a nice restaurant, and it would be…unacceptable for me to rip your clothes off and have my way with you right here." Blaine finished and shifted in his chair, satisfied with Kurt's shocked face.

"Wow, dear. It really does that to you?" Kurt's eyebrows had shot up. Blaine nodded in reply.

"And more." Kurt laughed and brushed Blaine's face gently.

"Okay, sweetie. I'll save it for later," he added with a wink.

The rest of the dinner was filled with pleasant conversation. Glee, exams, family, music, fashion. Blaine and Kurt never ran out of things to say, although there were times when silence was needed. They were that in-tune with each other; this was why Kurt planned on giving Blaine a promise ring tonight- a pre-proposal. He couldn't see a life without him. Plus, they both had previously conversed about where they saw themselves in the future; it included growing up and old together. The promise ring was Kurt's promise to Blaine to propose to him one day in a physical symbol.

The waiter had just brought a beautiful rum chocolate souffl� to the table. Blaine was enjoying it rather quickly, but Kurt was lost in his rambling thoughts. When would be the right time to do this?

"This is delicious! You too full?" Blaine asked with a concerned look, swirling his spoon in the syrup.

Okay then. Now it is.

"I actually have something to say," Kurt nervously began. Blaine dropped his utensil and wiped his mouth on the linen napkin in his lap. All of his attention was directed at Kurt. They intertwined hands for the thousandth time that night.

"Yeah, shoot," Blaine shifted to turn more to him on his chair. Kurt took a deep breath. The box laid in his increasingly weary hand under the table as the other was joined with Blaine's.

"When we first met on the staircase of Dalton, I wanted you to be mine," he began.

"Valentine," Blaine interrupted without even thinking. Kurt gave a playfully annoyed look.

"Sure, dear. Well, now that I have you, I just want to keep you. It sounds a little possessive, but now I want to promise you that I will be yours whole-heartedly. Forever," Kurt's voice broke a little. Blaine teared up as Kurt brought out the velvet box and opened it. The silver band displayed a design of infinity signs intricately etched into it. A soft gasp escaped Blaine's lips hidden behind his hands.

"I'm not proposing to you… yet. It's a promise ring. Will you have it?" Kurt stammered nervously. Blaine made grabby hands for the ring.

"Yes! Yes! Of course!" Kurt took Blaine's trembling left hand into his own trembling hands and smoothly slid the ring on his finger. It was a perfect fit.

"I love you so, so much," Kurt said as he caressed the side of Blaine's face, wiping a stray tear away. Blaine leaned into the touch and kissed Kurt before nuzzling into a hug.

"I love you, too, Kurt," tears still sparkled in his brown eyes. "This means so much to me."

The drive to Blaine's house was silent. Nothing needed to be said. Both boys were glad to spend the time with each other, falling in love a little more deeply because of tonight. Each glance into each other's eyes ignited a flurry within their chests. As soon as they walked into the empty house, Kurt turned to Blaine.

"So… What do you want to do?" he asked, obviously knowing the answer behind a coy smile.

"You really need to ask?" Blaine scoffed. Suddenly, their hungry lips were attached. They stood in the entrance hallway, making out, until the fervor became too intense. The empty house only echoed the lovers' staccato breaths. Kurt finally turned his head away, gripping Blaine's shoulders in an effort to ground himself. The shorter of the two kept his lips connected to the flushing skin on Kurt's neck.

"Bedroom," Kurt gasped. Blaine only made a grunting noise and took Kurt's hand to lead him to his room. Once inside, Blaine released his hand and eyed Kurt desirably up and down, almost unsure of where to begin.

"Pourquoi tu ne m'embrasses pas (Why are you not kissing me)?" Kurt whined. Blaine's pants tightened dramatically.

Kurt = sexy. French = hot. Kurt + French = boner.

It was a quite simple equation, really. Like a jaguar, Blaine leapt right in front of Kurt, and their kissing continued. Hands roamed. Soft groans and gasps of air filled the quiet, dark room.

"Enl�ve ta chemise (Take off your shirt)," Kurt murmured as he ran his hands on Blaine's sculpted chest underneath his shirt. Blaine seemed to understand the gesture and complied, taking Kurt's off as well. Suddenly, Kurt dropped to his knees, face level with Blaine's straining erection.

"Regarde. C'est moi qui ai fait �a (Look here. Did I do this)?" Firmly but gently, Kurt began undoing his boyfriend's pants. The belt, jeans, and boxers were all shed, leaving Blaine stark naked. His member stood at attention, twitching with need. He himself was quickly melting into a puddle of lust.

"Ta bite est superbe, mon amour. Est-elle � moi? Je peux? (Your cock is beautiful, my love. Is it mine? May I)" Blaine almost blew his load right there as Kurt's long string of words curled around his brain and added fuel to his fire. A greedy wet mouth slid around Blaine's cock then. Talk about sensory overload.

"Unnghh… Oh my… God… Kurt, baby," Blaine couldn't even form coherent thoughts as Kurt work magic on his cock. Watching his boyfriend's head bob up and down on him was such a turn on. One of his hands tangled itself into Kurt's soft hair and tugged slightly. Kurt moaned, sending vibrations to Blaine's sensitive cock. In turn, Blaine groaned in ecstasy.

"Baby… Oh fuck.. I'msoclose… I'm gonna…" he stammered. Kurt pulled his mouth off with a popping sound. Blaine whined at the loss.

"Je veux faire l'amour aver toi. Je veux que tu jouisses (I want to make love with you. I want you to cum)," Kurt said calmly. He stood up and tuned the rest of his own clothes off. This was familiar territory. Their sex life was healthy, seeing as they were deeply in love, not just lusting. Tonight, however, it did feel heavier. Not only was Blaine turned on even more than he had ever been before due to the new knowledge of bilingual Kurt, but the glimmering promise ring brought joy to both of them. It was the beginning of their future. Kurt gave a slight push to Blaine's flushed chest, and he fell backwards onto the plush bed, still staring unashamedly at Kurt's body. He licked his lips unconsciously.

"Tu aimes ce que tu vois (Do you like what you see)?" Kurt asked innocently, cocking one hip out. Blaine only grunted, fingers itching to put some friction on his body. Kurt clambered to Blaine's bedside table to retrieve the lube. He lost no time in slicking his fingers up and began teasing Blaine's hole.

"Mon amour, je ne comprends pas pourquoi tu aimes tellement que je parle fran�ais. Ca te rend clairement fou (My love, I don't understand why you love my French so much. Obviously you are going crazy)," Kurt murmured lovingly into his lover's ear.

"I swear to God if you don't put something in me right now, I'll just- Unggh!" Blaine cried out when Kurt breached his hole, wiggling his finger around.

"More," Blaine growled.

"D�j� (Already)?" Kurt added another, allowing Blaine to adjust. The excitement built up rather quickly and, before he knew it, there were three fingers in him. Kurt leaned over, unable to resist Blaine's lips. His fingers curled up and hit Blaine's prostate dead on. Rewarded with strangled gasps, he smirked.

"Please just fuck me. I need you so badly," Blaine choked out, shuddering from arousal.

"D'accord, mon amour. Si tu veux (Okay, my love. If you want)," Kurt replied frankly. He slipped his fingers out. Blaine gave an odd whine at the lack of something in him but wriggled on his back to find a better position. Kurt lined his cock up to his hole after having lubed himself.

"Pr�t (Ready)?" Of course, Blaine was clueless as to what that meant, but the look in Kurt's eyes was obviously asking for permission.

"Uh… yes?" Blaine managed to get out. Kurt pushed forward naturally, and the head of his cock entered Blaine, who scrunched up his face and wrung his hands in the comforter underneath his sweaty body, A couple of more inches, then Kurt stopped, allowing Blaine to adjust. It felt like Blaine's sphincter muscles were spazzing, trying to relax. He was so tight around Kurt. This wouldn't take long. He looked down to his boyfriend underneath him. Blaine's eyes were closed, his forehead with a small sheen of sweat. Kurt decided this was the look for Blaine: completely undone, ready to cum.

"Move," Blaine said through gritted teeth finally. Both boys gasped from the tingles that traveled throughout hero body as Kurt's hips snapped forward. Slowly but surely, Kurt got a steady rhythm going of pounding into Blaine.

"Je t'aime tellement, mon amour (I love you so much, my love). Ugh, Blaine," Kurt huskily said, staccato breaths forced out with each thrust of hips. Blaine could only grunt but noticed how Kurt said his name even with an accent.

Kurt smiled. He liked that he was and would be the only one to make Blaine simply fall apart. He stroked Blaine's face then dragged his hand down Blaine's slightly hairy chest all the way down to his leaking cock. Blaine moaned even louder as Kurt gripped it firmly, rubbing pre-cum over the head in concentric circles. Blaine's breath was coming out in random bursts. He would go over the edge soon, Kurt could feel it.

"Vas-tu jouir pour moi (Will you cum for me)?" Kurt crooned, voice ragged with lust. Just like that, Blaine let out a loud cry and released all over his own stomach and Kurt's hand suddenly. His vision blurred and his body convulsed sporadically. He was only vaguely aware of Kurt shooting in him, hot and wet and ohgodsomuch. They didn't use condoms after the first talk about being with each other in the future. They took that chance.

"Mmmm… Kurt, baby. Feels so good," Blaine croaked dazedly. The only thing the two boys could hear was the sound of labored breathing and their own heartbeats thumping hard. Kurt laid his body down, half on Blaine, half cuddling his side, yet still inside him. His cock was softening but Blaine's muscles kept a tight hold.

"Je t'aime. Je t'aime, mon ch�ri (I love you. I love you, my dear)," Kurt gently stroked Blaine's face with his clean hand.

"I love you, too," Blaine knew that one and looked over directly into Kurt's glasz eyes. "So much."

"I'm going to just talk in English now. Sorry to disappoint. My brain is fried," Kurt said. Blaine touched Kurt's cheek, who nuzzled into the gesture. They laid still for a moment, catching their breaths.

"Why were you so turned on with my French?" Kurt asked.

"Because it's hot. The way your mouth moves and the sounds. It's a pretty language. And you're just so talented. You amaze me everyday," he finished. Kurt chuckled and shifted to be more comfortable inside of Blaine.

"Okay, okay," he kissed Blaine, "Thank you." They continued to lightly kiss.

"Mmmm… you're welcome." Slowly the kisses became more heated. Kurt's cock gradually gained life and swelled inside of Blaine, whose cock had also hardened.

"Round two?" Kurt smirked.

"Won't take long. I'm still pretty sensitive," Blaine replied. The boys shifted slowly, and Kurt lifted Blaine's leg, hitched it to allow better leverage as he snuggled into Blaine's neck, sucking fervently on the boy's skin. The sheer love in the room was overwhelming. The boys on the bed, wrapping tightly in each other as one, couldn't fight the tingles deep in their stomachs. In and out Kurt's hips went, still lying sideways. Blaine hummed happily but strained. His toes curled. Even though the humping was leisurely, their climaxes were building up because of the position. Blaine gasped as Kurt hit his prostate.

"Kurt. Kurt. Right there! Fuck," Blaine cried as he tucked his chin to his chest. Kurt took Blaine's left hand and, with Blaine watching his actions, kissed the promise ring.

"You are so beautifully perfect," he murmured. That was the final thing that made Blaine tip over, orgasming for the second time that night. Kurt filled him up again as well but made no signs of moving. Their collective sighs replaced the room's silence. Kurt still held Blaine close, now wrapping his arms around Blaine's chest. Blaine was enjoying Kurt's heartbeat on his back. Eventually Kurt's cock slipped out of Blaine's wet hole.

"m' tired," Blaine groaned.

"Yeah, well, cumming twice in an hour can do that," Kurt laughed. "Bonne-nuit, mon amour (Goodnight, my love)," Kurt added softly, caressing Blaine's promise ring.

"Bonne-nuit?" Blaine tried out and failed magnificently. Trying to pronounce French correctly felt like speaking through a mouthful of water. Kurt even laughed at him and tried to correct it. "It's futile, Kurt," Blaine chuckled but added "I'll stick to Italian."

"Wait, what?" Kurt became alert but Blaine had already fallen asleep, lips open in a relaxed state.

We'll have to try out Italian later then, Kurt thought before drifting off to sleep himself.