Kurt and Blaine sit comfortably on the floor of their loft while Blaine attempts to finish the Van Gogh puzzle. Kurt watches over the rim of his coffee mug as Blaine maneuvers one of the final key pieces of his puzzle into place.

“So, you're still working on that, huh?” Kurt says, a tad judgmentally, as he takes a tentative sip of his hot coffee.

“Yup,” Blaine replies briefly, deep in concentration.

Kurt nods.

“Are you doing it because…uh…”

Blaine's eyes flick up and meet Kurt's, divining his meaning.

“Nope,” Blaine says. “I just wanted to finish it.”

Kurt smiles, uneasy at the prospect of being overheard.

“Okay, okay,” Kurt says. “That I get. But, really, Blaine? Neon?”

Blaine takes a moment to look down at his brighter than necessary blue sweatshirt.

“We talked about this, Kurt,” Blaine says with a pointed look.

Kurt blanches for a moment.

“Right, right…” Kurt says, taking another careful sip. “Omnipresent, omniscient fandom.”

Kurt's head bobs as he nods sagely.

Blaine's eyes flick up to Kurt's one more time, his mouth twisting in a sly smile.

“You haven't noticed yet, have you?” he says with veiled amusement in his voice.

Kurt looks back, his wide eyes confused.

“Wh-what?”

Blaine's eyes travel to Kurt's torso, and Kurt looks down his own body. Suddenly, instead of his trademark McQueen sweater, he is wearing a retro, faded neon yellow t-shirt with the message “FRANKIE SAYS RELAX” big as life on the front.

Kurt stares down at his violated body, mortified, before looking back up to lock eyes with his giggling fiancé.

Kurt sighs, opting for his usual eloquence in the face of the intolerable.

“Oh, crap.”