“You wore it!” Kurt giggled, running a hand up Blaine’s back underneath his suit jacket but over his dress shirt. “I can’t believe you wore it! We’re at a Christmas party, with my dad and Congressmen – even the news is here! - and you wore it!”

“I thought we established that I always wear it,” Blaine whispered. He smiled nervously, eyes darting around the crowd to make sure that no one was listening. “You know that.”

“I know, I know” - Kurt fingered the lace of the cami hiding underneath Blaine’s clothes in a way that no one could see - “I guess I’m still astounded by it.”

“By what, exactly?” Blaine’s smile stiffened as he nodded at a party guest passing by.

“By how brave you are,” Kurt replied, keeping his voice low, dropping it to a level that Blaine could feel more than he could hear. “How amazing. How sexy I find it…how much I want to tear off your suit so I can look at it.”

“You know what it looks like,” Blaine chuckled, trapped between anxious and extremely turned on. “You made it.”

“I know.” Kurt leaned in, talking against the shell of Blaine’s ear. “That’s how I know that the pale yellow satin makes your lusciously tan skin glow, and that it brings out the flecks of gold in your eyes. It clings to your skin, showcases your muscles perfectly so I can see every single one. That makes it so much easier for me to trace them all…”

Kurt conveniently left out whether he’d be tracing them with his fingers or his tongue. Blaine swallowed hard imagining both.

“Well” – Blaine cleared his throat, angling his body toward his boyfriend – “then you’ll also know that that smooth, silky fabric does nothing to hide an erection.”

Kurt’s eyes flicked down, noticing the bulge outlined in the front of Blaine’s dress slacks before Blaine stealthily pulled his jacket closed.

“Oh,” Kurt said, his expression part playful grin, part sly smile, “well, we could always excuse ourselves to the parking lot and I could help you fix that.”

“And how do you plan on fixing it?” Blaine asked breathlessly.

“Oh, you know” – Kurt smoothed down the shoulders on Blaine’s jacket, fiddled with the buttons and fussed with the wrinkles to cover the content of their conversation for the casual outside observer – “I could make a few adjustments to your pants…and whatnot…”

Blaine raised an eyebrow in question and Kurt nodded subtly, a ruby red flush creeping up his neck at the thought of what he intended on doing to Blaine once they got to his SUV.

“Yes, I would really appreciate your assistance in that matter,” Blaine said, a matching blush heating his cheeks. “I definitely don’t need a wardrobe malfunction, especially not with news cameras present.” Blaine put a hand to the small of Kurt’s back and led him away.

“Definitely not,” Kurt agreed, grateful to bad luck for once that he had to park his Navigator in the farthest, darkest corner of VIP parking.