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Though he knows his way around an issue of Vogue, Blaine would never claim to be the fashion guru that Kurt is. He doesn't feel bad about it; it's just a fact, like that Wes is better at soccer or Trent has a nicer car. Kurt is better than Blaine is in all things to do with fashion and cooking. His knowledge of musical theater is also probably deeper, but Blaine’s much more versed in Top 40, so he calls it a draw. (He knows Kurt wouldn’t agree.)
Still, despite being less steeped in the intricacies of fashion than his boyfriend, Blaine can’t help but wince when Mercedes emerges from the department store’s dressing room in an emerald green dress that seems to be made up entirely of ruching and ruffles. It is really and truly ghastly. It's like she's in costume as the Michelin Man's prom date. Blaine immediately schools his face to a neutral smile, but his slip doesn't matter because she’s not looking at him, anyway. He knows he was just invited out of politeness and a kind heart; it’s Kurt she wants, and since it’s Blaine’s day off from work he’s the price of Kurt’s attendance.
“Well?” she asks Kurt, who is staring at her with the fingers of one hand pressed to his mouth. Mercedes holds her arms out and performs a slow twirl.
From her seat by the mirrors, Rachel claps and beams at Mercedes. “It’s so pretty!”
“Well?” Mercedes asks Kurt again. She’s ignoring Rachel as thoroughly as she’s ignoring Blaine, which is kind of encouraging.
“Did you seriously put a deposit on this dress for them to hold it for you?” Kurt says in a pained voice. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “And your plan was to wear it and not burn it?”
“Kurt,” Blaine chides, because although he’s used to his boyfriend’s pronouncements on fashion it’s still pretty rude.
Kurt turns his head toward him; Blaine is reminded of a lion switching its attention to a new gazelle. “What?”
Blaine makes a point of looking calm. “Be nice. She’s a friend.”
“I am being nice. I am saving her from committing a horrendous fashion faux pas as well as from spending the entirety of the event feeling like she’s trapped inside of the bastard child of a boa constrictor and an ‘80s shower curtain.”
“I think it looks lovely, Mercedes,” Rachel says.
“And there’s your second indication that it is a terrible, terrible choice,” Kurt tells Mercedes.
Rachel narrows her eyes at him. “I read ruffles are very in right now.”
“Yes, they are, but that doesn’t mean more of them is better. We are shopping for something fabulous for Mercedes to wear to her cousin’s semi-formal wedding, not to compete in the toddler division of the Little Miss Ohio Princess 2011 Beauty Pageant.”
“Why did I ask you to help me with this?” Mercedes asks with a roll of her eyes. Blaine thinks it’s a valid question; he’s wondering much the same thing.
“Because you know when I'm done you will outshine the bride,” Kurt replies. He shrugs as if his statement cannot be questioned.
She glares at him for a minute, and he doesn’t flinch. “Fine. I'll put on the other one. I'll need some help with the zipper. Rachel?” She turns in a flurry of ruffles and goes back into the dressing room, Rachel trailing behind.
“Maybe we should find something in magenta,” Rachel says in a stage whisper over her shoulder to Kurt.
“Because nothing says classy like hot pink!” he calls after her. He begins to poke through the racks of dresses nearby, pursing his lips with obvious disapproval at the selections.
Blaine pushes away from the wall he'd been leaning against and goes to stand by Kurt. "You're very blunt," he says.
"That's hardly news," Kurt replies, not taking his eyes off of the clothes.
"I know,” Blaine says, because that’s certainly true. He’s been at the receiving end of Kurt’s judgments enough times to know. “Do you think you should be more encouraging?"
"You mean lie to her when neither the color nor the cut of the dress flatters her at all?"
"No! No, not lie. Just... maybe consider softening your words a little?"
Kurt turns to him and crosses his arms over his chest. "I realize this is your first time on a girls' shopping trip, but believe me, I am here specifically because I don't pull my punches. That’s valuable."
Blaine doesn’t want to get in an argument in the store, and he knows that stubborn light in Kurt’s eyes all too well. He tries to change his tone. "I know, Kurt. All I’m saying is there’s an unpulled punch, and there’s a slap in the face on top of it.” Kurt’s expression doesn’t shift, so Blaine gives up for the moment and says more lightly, “Anyway, does it really count as a girls' shopping trip if half of us aren't girls?"
"I'm honorary," Kurt says with a shrug. "And you're attached to me."
It doesn't sit right with Blaine, ignoring Kurt's gender so blithely like that, though he knows Kurt doesn’t take it in a particularly negative way, no matter how the idea might have started. Still, it bothers Blaine. If Kurt is different from his male friends and would rather hang out with his female ones, it definitely isn’t because he is all but a girl; it’s because he is simply Kurt, wonderful and unique in every way. Okay, Blaine knows he is biased, but he is also right.
“You’re not a girl,” he protests.
Kurt waves his hand as though to brush away the comment and goes back to the dresses. “Hence the ‘honorary’.”
If Blaine doesn’t like Kurt’s gender being negated, he really doesn’t like Kurt not listening to him. So he steps up into Kurt's space and says low in his ear, "Fine, but you are not a girl, Kurt."
He can hear Kurt swallow at the purr in Blaine's voice. "No,” he agrees.
“I like that about you, you know.”
Kurt laughs, high and giddy. "I like that about you, too." He glances around and leans in a little, his gaze dropping to Blaine's mouth.
"Ta da!" Rachel announces the girls' return, and Kurt springs back. Blaine retreats more slowly and returns to his place on the wall, feeling oddly cheated, though he knows that they were pushing the boundaries even with that much, given where they are.
Mercedes emerges in a slinky gown of shimmering gold. It clings to her curves all the way to her knees and then flows out in frothy ruffles to her feet. It makes her look like a movie star. A movie star-slash-mermaid.
"Wow," Blaine says before he can stop himself.
Mercedes shoots him a little grin before looking at Kurt.
"The color is perfect on you - " Kurt begins.
"I told you," Rachel says with delight.
Kurt frowns at her and finishes, "But the ruffles are still a disaster. If I had scissors with me I’d be unable to stop myself from cutting them off right here and now. We can do better."
“These are the best two dresses in my size in the store,” Mercedes says.
“Hmm.” Kurt surveys the area with a determined eye for a minute before admitting, “You’re probably right.”
Mercedes looks at herself in the mirror once more, her shoulders dropping. "I should just buy a five dollar dress if I'm going to look awful, anyway. Or wear something from my closet."
“I really thought you looked wonderful in both of them,” Rachel says with charming if misguided loyalty.
"First, never, ever turn down a free shopping trip with your parents' credit card,” Kurt tells Mercedes, shaking his head. “That’s just madness. Secondly, the dresses are hideous, but you’re beautiful. Nobody could make those dresses look good. We will find one that suits you instead of shoving you into any old combination of fabric and thread thrown together by people who obviously need a pair of eyeglasses and a serious infusion of taste.”
“Kurt - “
“You should know better than to argue with me, Mercedes. You are beautiful.” The strength of the conviction in Kurt’s voice makes Blaine’s throat tighten.
“You always say that,” she says.
“I always say it because it’s always true,” Kurt says. Blaine feels mildly ashamed that he chastised him at all; he should have known better. He does know better. Kurt throws around the truth with reckless abandon with people he loves, both compliments and criticisms. It’s one of the best things about him, even if it can hurt when you’re on the receiving end of his more pointed barbs.
“He’s right,” Rachel says, and Blaine nods his agreement, though as far as he can tell Mercedes has pretty much forgotten that they’re there.
Mercedes smiles up at Kurt and says, “Thank you.”
Kurt smiles back for a second and then says briskly, “This is not the only store in Ohio. It’s not even the only store in the mall. Take that monstrosity off at once, and we’ll have some frozen yogurt therapy before our next stop.”
“Okay.” Mercedes takes a deep breath and nods to Rachel to follow her.
“Frozen yogurt therapy?” Blaine asks as the girls disappear into the changing area again. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Kurt eat frozen yogurt. It’s an intriguing thought. There could be tongue involved. There probably will be tongue involved. Things are looking brighter.
“You can’t expect to maintain the proper level of focus for power shopping with the looming threat of low blood sugar,” Kurt says with an airy wave of his hand. He flips through the last of the dresses on the rack in front of him and says, “Everything in this store should be burned as a crime against fashion.”
Blaine is relieved to see that none of the sales staff heard Kurt’s remark. He doesn’t want to be kicked out; he saw a few sweaters he liked for himself in the men’s department. “It’s not that bad.”
“Did you see Mercedes?” Kurt asks. “Seriously, Blaine, clothes are meant to make you not just look good but feel good. How anyone could feel good about themselves wearing these disasters is beyond me. Fashion is about expressing who you are, who you want to be. Nobody wants to be a bolt of cheap satin colliding with a truck full of dead eels. Nobody. These clothes are the antithesis of what fashion should be.”
“Okay, I’m not arguing with you,” Blaine says, “but obviously somebody wants the dead eel dress, because the store sells it.”
“Only because too many consumers settle for what they’re given instead of dreaming of what they could have.” What they could be is left unspoken, but Blaine hears it all the same.
Blaine considers Kurt, proudly standing in the most mundane of department stores in a pair of tight plaid pants, knee-high boots, a crisp white shirt, and a studded leather bow tie, and thinks, not for the first time, that the world would be a much better place if there were more people like him. It is a tragedy that almost everyone else, including himself a lot of the time, seems to think the eel dress or fitting in is a better option.
He pledges to himself not to go buy those sweaters that had caught his eye. Maybe he and Kurt can go shopping to find something a bit more interesting for him. Just not too interesting.
“What?” Kurt asks, drawing into himself a little, and Blaine realizes he’s been staring at his boyfriend with a decided frown.
Blaine doesn’t know how to explain his train of thought, so he simply says, “I love you,” and is treated to a few seconds of bright, startled smile before Kurt gets his expression back under control.
Kurt tilts his head, his eyes still warm, and replies, “You must to suffer through this parade of ghastly dresses.”
“I don’t mind. Besides, I’m going to get frozen yogurt out it.”
“Ah, yes. I can see where your priorities are.”
“I get to spend the day with my amazing boyfriend and get dessert. Sounds win-win to me. Hey, do they have mix-ins?”
Kurt just laughs and turns his attention to the girls as they walk back out of the dressing room. “Let’s get out of here before the colors burn permanently into my eyes.” He offers Mercedes his arm and glides off, and Blaine frowns a little as he falls into step behind them with Rachel. Hadn’t they just been having a moment?
“They make a very nice sorbet, too, if you don’t want to contribute to horrific and entirely unnecessary animal cruelty,” Rachel tells Blaine. “Did you know - “
He watches Kurt lean in close to Mercedes, bending his head next to hers and patting her hand where it rests in the crook of his elbow, but he can’t hear them over Rachel’s monologue about the plight of dairy cows.
By the time they reach the food court, Blaine’s ears are ringing, and he’s feeling more than a little queasy. He’s relieved that the girls decide to go to the restroom before getting their food, because he’s not sure he can eat just yet. Or maybe ever.
“Thank you,” Kurt says to him as they sit at a table to wait. “I didn’t think Mercedes was in the mood to hear Rachel’s dairy diatribe yet again.”
“You could have warned me,” Blaine says weakly. His stomach does an unpleasant flip as he lowers himself into the chair.
“I believe it’s called taking one for the team.” Kurt pats his hand.
Blaine crosses his arms on the table and lets his head thump down on them. “I’m never going to be able to drink milk again.”
“Don’t let her win, Blaine,” Kurt tells him with a little laugh he can’t quite disguise. “If you stop drinking milk, the crazy vegan terrorist with horrifying fashion sense wins.”
Blaine groans, and Kurt presses his foot gently against Blaine’s under the table. It’s amazing how even the little touch can settle his stomach in about six seconds flat.
“Thank you,” Blaine says, drawing in a deep breath and holding it before sitting back up. Kurt is watching him with a worried furrow between his brows, and Blaine smiles at him and actually means it.
“Thank you.”
Blaine just looks at him for a minute, drinking him in, because no matter how much he’s around Kurt he never gets tired of it. He will never get over how comfortable and right it feels just to be together; he doesn’t know why he ever didn’t want to be, but even then it was more that he didn’t understand than that he didn’t want to. He’s such an idiot, but that’s why Kurt is so great for him, because Kurt knows it and compensates for him.
Even now as Blaine stares and thinks, Kurt simply tilts his head and looks back, apparently unfazed by the scrutiny.
“I want you to pick out some clothes for me,” Blaine tells him, because it’s even more of a reward for Kurt than it is for him.
Kurt’s eyebrows raise. “You do?”
“Not here. Vintage or higher end. Whatever you think would look good.”
“Really?” When Blaine nods, Kurt beams at him. “It’s not even my birthday,” Kurt says in a breathy voice, and his eyes go bright and distant. He’s obviously already planning. It makes Blaine's heart race with the joy of it.
Blaine’s still smiling when the girls return, and Kurt pops up out of his chair as soon as they approach the table. “Blaine, will you hold our seats? I’m buying your yogurt.”
“Sure,” Blaine says, and he knows it’s Kurt’s way of apologizing for sticking him with Rachel and thanking him for the future shopping trip. It could be just about the shopping trip. “Chocolate twist, please, with peanut butter cups stirred in if they have them. And maybe sprinkles. Rainbow.”
Kurt raises an eyebrow like he is amused by Blaine’s order, but he nods and leads the girls to the line.
Blaine settles into his chair and smiles to himself. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky to have Kurt in his life, and not just in his life but as his boyfriend, but he’ll weather Kurt’s sharp judgments all day long for the pleasure of having the rest of him.
And, hey, he’s also getting some frozen yogurt out of it, too. With sprinkles. It’s turning out to be an even better day than he’d expected.