Author's Note: This isn't my best fanfiction, and was originally written as a drabble... but I got carried away, so I suppose it wouldn't hurt to post this. I'm not sure if it's M for Mature or not, there are sexual themes but no sex... so I'm putting it as T, and I'll change it if I have to. I didn't get this exact to the prompt, but I am somewhat satisfied. The prompt for this was: "Sam/Kurt Promkingage. Basically, Sam's planning to ask Kurt to Prom, but realizes that he can't ask anyone in Glee, and the person next to Mercedes who's best likely to know what Kurt likes (even if it does make him jealous) is Blaine. Conversation with them picking out Suits, yes?

Extra points if Blaine doesn't stop making fun on him. xD"

Please let me know what you think~!

The fact that he was even here was leaking with enough irony to gel back Mr. Schue's hair. He knew he needed this night to be perfect, but the fact of the matter was that the only person who could help him with that was a rival for his boyfriend's affections.

Despite this, Blaine had seemed all too eager when Sam had called him and asked him for help picking out a tuxedo. At first the blond boy was wary, paranoid that it was some sort of sabotage plot... but Blaine seemed perfectly happy to shop, judge clothes, and tease the FUCK out of the poor, embarrassed Sam.

After much griping, sass, and general irritation, they finally managed to pick a light blue designer tux that graciously brought out the intense blue of Sam's eyes. After one last pinch of his cheeks- Blaine had a habit of doing this every few minutes, stating loudly that his "baby" was growing up. They didn't even know each other that well!- he was sent on his way.

The prom was packed to the teeth with McKinley students, and it took Sam a good fifteen minutes to finally locate his boyfriend. Kurt was dressed to kill, in something that looked like a mix between a tuxedo and something the goblin king Jareth would have worn. An expensive-looking cravat in a deep shade of red, a black silk button-down shirt (or was it a blouse? Sam could never tell with these kind of things, fashion was hardly his forte), and black and grey pin-striped slacks. He was wearing boots, but they weren't his more favored ones... these ones had no laces, and had a low heel on them that made Kurt just a wee bit taller. He was still shorter than Sam, though.

He looked good.

"Hey." Sam managed to choke out, blue eyes looking everywhere from the round of Kurt's ass. The pants brought quite a bit of attention to it, and that was saying something, considering the fact that Kurt had one of the most perfect asses in existence.

"Hey! It's about time you showed up, I thought for certain that you were going to be late."

"I got lost."

"Well, welcome back to reality, Samuel. Care for some punch?" The young countertenor held out a glass of fruit punch to the blonde, who swallowed, nodded, and took the drink. One sip of the blood-red liquid told him that there was more than a little kick to the punch than there should be... that's why he turned and aimed a very meaningful glare at a certain Jewish playboy. Puck simply smirked and waved, then winked and mouthed, "Get some!"

Sam shook his head and rolled his eyes, then turned back to Kurt. He was NOT going to take advantage of the one person he cared about most, despite how delicious he looked in his prom get-up. "Kurt, you should probably stop drinking that punch-"

"I'm perfectly aware that there is alcohol in it, Samuel." Kurt stated bluntly, taking another sip. "I've had my own fair share of alcohol-related incidents... It's really quite easy to sniff it out. Besides, I saw Puckerman spike it. I'm actually quite a ninja when I want to be." He smirked and took another small sip. "I'm not drunk, so wipe that exasperated smirk off of your face. I sent Ms. Pillsbury to the hospital last time, and I ruined one of my favorite jackets. You won't have to baby-sit me." The smirk grew wider. "But I'm not a baby, am I?"

"No, I guess not-" His words were cut off by warm lips on his own, a small dainty hand wrapped rather tightly around his cobalt tie. "Mmph!"

He was all-too aware that there were several McKinley students looking on in shock, but the more entertaining reactions were those of the visiting students from other schools. They looked positively scandalized, and for good reason. They'd probably never even seen a gay couple before.

And they weren't going to be seeing one for very long, that's for sure.

"Bathroom. Have to pee." Sam muttered, tugging on Kurt's hand. The young fashionista looked confused for a second, then seemed to realize what Sam meant as a bright red flush spread across his cheeks. "I have to go, as well. Shall we?" He smiled sweetly, a fake innocence in it that only Sam had the real pleasure of understanding the true meaning behind. He could have sworn he heard Santana cat-call them from inside the auditorium, but he just ignored her and continued to drag Kurt with him to the closest janitor's closet. There was no way they were actually going to go to the bathroom- there were way to many students in there, and they needed privacy.

"When I got into this relationship, I underestimated how insatiable you were." Kurt whispered into Sam's ear, the two of them finally alone (well, for the most part) in the tiny little closet.

"I'm a teenage boy, I have hormones." He grinned and nipped at Kurt's skin, then grimaced when the boy stomped down on his feet quite forcefully.

"No marks, Samuel. If my father sees them, we'll have another Run Joey Run debacle."

"Run Joey-"

"Don't think too much on it." The brunette pulled the blonde in for another deep kiss, one arm sliding around his neck to pull him closer. Sam could feel his erection straining in his pants, his lips numb from the lovely little kisses Kurt was giving to him at the moment.

"Kay." Teeth grazed Kurt's ear, startling a little gasp from the young man. "I won't." His fingers slipped down the waistband of his lover's pants, and Kurt was suddenly putty in his hands.

It was all Sam could do not to rip the other's clothes off. Not only would that be counter-productive when they needed to leave, but Kurt would probably dump him for ruining his outfit. He just wanted to love him, to make him moan, and he was so close to finally being able to do that-

When his phone buzzed.

"Aw, god fucking-"

"Leave God out of this, please, and ignore it."

"I can't, what if it's an emergency? I promised my parents I'd have my phone on all night."

"Fine, then CHECK." Kurt looked positively harassed, his cerulean eyes narrowed in frustration. Sam decided it would be best if he hurried up and checked his phone. when he did, however, he felt like laughing hysterically, then throwing it at something.

'Courage - B'

He was going to kill that little cockblock.