Summary: Fill for the Glee Fluff Prompt: After the prom, all the Gleeks + Blaine take Kurt out for ice cream and a prom afterparty.

Posted on LJ first, but I felt like posting it here too :D Read and Review prettyplease :D


He was fabulous. At days when the lapse in memories of his new born self came in a pleasant wave towards him in midst of a crisis, he liked to believe it was his first word. Forgetting slurs, forgetting notes, forgetting the world, just remembering that he was absolutely and utterly fabulous. And that was something no one could ever take away from it. He would fight them off with his newly received sceptre if they tried.

Under different circumstances, it would almost make Kurt giggle, remembering how Blaine would call Kurt his little ninja, whenever the younger boy demonstrated his skills in handling the deco swords that ornamented the chandelier-lit hallway outside Blaine's room at his house. It had only taken three spins for Blaine to be won over and stop trying to pry the swords from his boyfriend's hands, because the guy really knew what he was doing.

The podium isn't raised too much. A mere few inches off the ground, enough to signify it as an area of importance, but even with Kurt's height, it raises him above McKinley's heads, when he steps on the sewn together wooden beams, his feet moving calculatedly toward the microphone holder and Figgins, barely making out any words, whispers or the feeling of something pressing on his perfectly coiffed hair and he swears each step echoes louder than the last. He can only hear the thrum thrum thrum of his frantic heart as he looks out over the crowd.

These are his tormenters. These are his demons and his worst nightmares.

And in the end, what spurns his courage is the sight of Santana as she slinks into the the gym hall again and fixes him with a look that seems to say own it, lady lips and he smiles ever so curtly for a second.

These are his bullies. But they are also his past.

"Eat your heart out, Kate Middleton." And pose and smile and yes, he is fabulous.

The rest of prom seems to go by in a blur and Kurt can't help but be thankful that his previous silent prayers for this to be over with already have seemingly been heard, although the feeling of Blaine's hand intertwined in his as they sway smoothly over the dance floor, uncaring of the crowd around them, is a feeling Kurt wants to hang to forever.

As far as Kurt knows, this is the extent of joy tonight. Blaine's arm wrapped around his waist, fingers laced as they dance. Then, Blaine would drive him home and probably sweep Kurt off his feet again with something so borderline cheesy that Kurt knows only Blaine could get away with saying it, before they have to schedule their next meeting and separate for the time being. Because Kurt didn't see Blaine hurrying off to find Santana and Mercedes, to whisper something in their ears before running back to the hall to support his boyfriend and get that one dance he has been waiting for all night.

"We should go… before Coach Sylvester ropes us into helping clear up."

"It's your prom… she can't do that."

"It's Sue Sylvester. You have no idea what she can do."

Blaine chuckles, squeezing Kurt's hand, still intertwined in his, as they sit on the uncomfortable, single-use-only-before-crashing plastic chairs, looking out at the remains of the crowd that didn't exhaust themselves already. But he needs to stall. Just a little bit. Keep Kurt occupied just for a little while so that the plans work out. He also has to attempt not to tell the still recovering countertenor, because he knows that Kurt, at this moment, can't imagine anything better than going home. And Blaine really can't allow that.

It's only when the room begins to clear in earnest, that Blaine grabs Kurt's hand and pulls him to the door of the hall and into the hallway, and they simply walk, hand in hand through the deserted hallway and-

"Blaine. I appreciate your attachment to this school, as it affirms my hopes you'll come visit me here more often, but you do realise that taking the scenic route through the school puts us about ten more minutes and several possibly jock-filled hallways away from my car, which has comfortable leather seating, strong glass windows, heating and the ability to take me home, don't you?"

But Blaine just smiles softly and pulls the other boy against his side, sliding an arm around his waist and hugging him to his side, stopping exactly in front of the locker he had been sitting against just over an hour ago.

"Yep. I know. I just wanted you to remember this place. I know this school has been less than a sanctuary to you and you have a lot of unpleasant memories with the school's hallways and lockers, but I want you to have a pleasant memory of this place in at least one, if not a million aspects."

"As what? The hallway where I broke down crying and-"

Blaine cuts him off with a kiss, soft, insistent, loving. A mere brush of lips against lips.

"As the hallway where you officially showed me that all the time I told you 'courage', you ended up being the one to teach me the real meaning of the word, when you decided to go back in there and beat every single malicious smirk or thought by being your amazing self."

"Oh." Is all Kurt manages, his mouth slightly open as he blushes and casts his eyes down to the off-white linoleum floor and feels calloused fingertips stroke over his cheek. "Thank you."

When they make their way out to the parking lot, it makes Blaine's heart stutter and his hand tighten its hold on Kurt, when he spots dark figures leaning against his car. There's the flashes of letterman jackets, of sneering words and stabs of pain, before he takes in the figures a little more carefully, his mind tracing the foremost person's dress and detecting the floral trim cast over one shoulder.

Kurt sighs heavily when he approaches Santana, who appears to be inspecting her nails in an offhandedly, cool manner, stood beside Brittany, Artie, Quinn, Sam and Mercedes.

"Listen Santana. I'm sorry you didn't get the damn title. I'll give you the crown if it'll make you feel better-"

"Oh please" she sneers, looking up at him with a surprisingly kind, warm smile, "I own this school. I don't need a plastic piece of crap put on my head to know that. Besides, it fits your outfit better than mine."

"Well then what-"

"Honestly" Finn's voice appears from behind them as he comes closer, seemingly having parked out in his car until the end of prom, muttering obscenities and looking darkly "That was ridiculous. Everyone could see it was totally Jesse's fault and-"

"Finn." Quinn cuts him off, her voice a mixture between disappointment and exasperation. "Just get over it."

"Well, as fun as this assembly is, I would really rather like to go home and just-"

The voices of Rachel, Puck, Lauren, Tina and Mike interrupt him again and honestly, he thinks can't they just let me get over this alone?

"Sorry but we're not letting you go home. No princess goes home upset." Santana winks at him and catches whatever Blaine just threw at her, procuring a key from her hand and Kurt turns to his boyfriend wondering what on earth possessed him to leave his car at Santana's mercy, when she quickly slips into the driver's seat, followed by what seems like half of New Directions piling into the car, while Artie, Brittany, Sam, Mercedes, Rachel, Tina, Mike, Lauren and Puck file into Puck and Mike's cars. Kurt lets Blaine guide him into the backseat of his car with a frown on his face, wondering what the hell is going on.

It's only when Santana pulls out and Finn, from where he is seated on Kurt's right, starts hopping on his seat excitedly chanting "ice cream, ice cream, ice cream!" that Kurt turns to Blaine again.

"Why is my step-brother going insane?"

"Like Santana said. We're not letting you go back home just yet."

"Yeah. Your boytoy here tracked me down just before your royalty complex, telling me some sappy story about how he knew that if you went back home now, even with that performance you had planned, you would spend the entire night worrying and his fragile, little gay heart would positively break at the thought of not being there to comfort you with eskimo kisses and blo-"

"I swear I only actually said about half of that…" Blaine mutters, burying his head in his hands as his cheeks flamed up, while Kurt sports a mortified expression, the grip on the leather seat tightening as he seethes a barely audible "Santana!", to which she just barks a laugh in response.

He clears his throat lightly; cheeks still tinged a rose colour. "So you're kidnapping me?"

"No, we're taking you out for ice cream." Blaine grins at him and they ignore the constant loop of the two last words being repeated excitedly by a very hyperactive Finn.

"Oh great, so you're kidnapping me and force-feeding me an unfathomable amount of calories?"

"Yes! Eat or I will burn those Alexander King skinny jeans you love so much!" Finn supplied with an excited grin.

"It's McQueen, Finn" Kurt pointed out, making an elaborate gesture toward the sparkly golden plastic that still adorned his head. "So you're kidnapping me and giving me ice cream? What is this? An attempt to generate Stockholm Syndrome within me? Because Santana, I'm pretty sure I'm entirely not your type, Quinn, I'm flattered but you are definitely not mine, Finn, I draw the line at incest, hot milk and girl talk is as far as you'll ever get and Blaine, I'm already infatuated with you, I really think trying to get me even more head-over-heels would be rather pointless and counterproductive. Especially with calories."

The car only swerves slightly when Kurt makes the quip at her because he can't have meant what she thinks he just did and between Quinn laughing and Finn frowning slightly wondering what the entire thing about the 'girl talk' was, Blaine just blushes adorably, grinning widely as he repeats the words 'infatuated' in his head.

They arrive at the Ice Cream parlour five minutes before the other two cars pull up in the parking lots beside them.

"Right let's crash this place!" Puck all but roars, before Santana smacks the back of his head and the group fills into the place, which, Kurt is pretty sure, has never had this many customers at once, especially not all in formal wear. Oh, and a kilt in one case. Yeah that has to be an unprecedented case. And when Blaine rolls his eyes and pulls him toward the large booth area in the middle of the shop, he only rolls his eyes, allowing his boyfriend to direct him to one of the red couches that surround the tables. The rest of the glee club decides to entirely disregard all complaints from nearby waitresses as they merge together three of the tables and seat areas, sitting down in a large group just In time for a scowling lady with a peroxide blonde wig- oh honey, please get it adjusted properly Kurt thinks, trying to ignore the hollering of orders- to step forward, getting admiring glances from her fellow co-workers, who seemed terrified by the aspect of feeding a prom shebang.

In the end, they face a table filled with more ice cream portions than people because Finn points out that it's a group discount you get when you order for a party of ten or more and all the orders come from within that small section of the menu and he must be a regular here to have memorised the menu card that well, rattling it off as well as Rachel or Kurt would rattle off the cast of Wicked over the years.

"So dude." Puck starts, looking at Kurt "Congrats. The sparkle makes the clothes look a lot more you."

"I am armed with dollops of questionably fatty ice cubes, Puckerman. And I am not afraid, nor wasteful in flinging them at you from this spoon-made catapult."

"Kurt, Kurt! You should totally catapult them in my mouth!" Finn is almost jumping up and down by now, both his hands holding spoons from different bowls of ice cream. He's not entirely sure whose they are, but he's pretty sure neither is actually his own. Oh well.

"Please someone remove the access from him! Remember that I'm the one who lives with him and who will miss out on precious hours of beauty sleep if he keeps knocking at my door asking me why he can't sleep and why his forehead feels so cold."

On the opposite side of Blaine and Kurt, Artie and Brittany are feeding each other small drops of ice cream, laughing whenever a drop goes astray and rolls down their chins. Kurt reaches over to squeeze Santana's hand comfortably when he catches her expression at the couple. Lauren, on the other hand, seems more intent on stealing Puck's ice cream rather than feeding him hers, to which he tries to build a fort of spoons in retaliation. When Finn and Quinn start losing the tenseness built up by the prom fiasco, Rachel's expression falls more and more, like a tangent, before Kurt catches her eye and makes an elaborate show of how he's trying to melt his ice cream to avoid eating it. It succeeds in making her laugh as much as it succeeds in making Blaine raise his eyebrow at his boyfriend.

"Come on Kurt, I know you like Ice Cream. Especially the Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia we had when you came over at the weekend-"

Kurt turns a rather delicate shade of pink and quickly covers his boyfriend's mouth with a spoon of chocolate ice cream that the boy swallows happily, before winking at someone behind Kurt.

"What- Ah! Mercedes get off me!"

The girl just snickers, holding Kurt's arms behind him as he tries to struggle out of her grasp, eyeing the table, whose attention has now suddenly been turned on him with blatant amusement painted across fourteen faces.

And then there's Blaine, spoon filled with something gooey and red, coming dangerously close to Kurt as the younger boy writhed to get away from the ice cream.

"Come on Kurt, it's really delicious." Tina smirks, still taking bite after bite of her own portion with relish.

"Oh what foreshadowing! That is exactly what I am going to tell all of you in five years when my waistline is still the same and you are all on Atkins!"

"It's just a bite Kurt. I promise it won't make you gain two hundred pounds."

"Oh that's what they all say! Just one bite and then another one and voila you've become the reincarnation of the cookie monster!" he seethes at Santana's comment.

Blaine just sits there, spoon dangling in front of Kurt's pursed lips, close enough that Kurt can just smell the delicious- no. No he can't possibly give in. Think of those amazing pants you just bought for next Friday. And yeah, that seems to work. For a second or two before Blaine casts a curious look at the table to make sure all eyes are trained on Kurt and not him, before he licks his own lips, slowly, eyes never losing Kurt's, until the younger boy's widen and his mouth makes the unforgiveable mistake of dropping just ever so slightly, enough for Blaine to feed him the surprisingly good heap of cream and flavouring.

"Damn you Blaine Anderson!"

"Now now, don't tell me you didn't like it."

Kurt remains adamantly silent, but a small smile is beginning to catch on his lips, before his peripheral vision catches Mike pulling Tina up with a frantic "I love this song, someone put the volume up!"

And Kurt isn't exactly sure how Puck got control of the volume, getting a better idea when the parlour starts streaming with music getting louder and louder and Puck jumping over from where he appears to have disappeared behind the counter, waitresses trying to chase him down.

It doesn't really matter that they've had their prom and it's over now. They're here, there's no crowds in the way, no obligation to sing, only a few baffled waitresses that are too surprised to do anything when the group starts getting up in pairs and threes, dancing almost dangerously for their proximity to such furniture as chairs and tables.

Kurt fails miserably when he tries to remain somewhat solemn, sitting on the chair with his arms crossed, when Blaine is looking at him with that expression, one hand holding his, hauling him up to his feet and engaging him in a dance Kurt thought was only possible for Blaine when the older boy was drunk. Apparently not.

So they have their own little prom revival. For a moment, Santana forgets about Brittany and Artie, as she makes the offhanded decision to at least have some fun with Rachel, who still seems somewhat blue after seeing Quinn and Finn reconcile so easily. For a moment, Artie and Brittany forget that they were fighting before, because it really doesn't matter. And for a moment, Kurt forgets the weight of the plastic on his head, revelling simply in the way Blaine is… doing something he might have called dancing, although Kurt isn't too sure he can dignify it with the same title. He doesn't even mind when Blaine scoops up a leftover bowl of ice cream, feeding it to Kurt, who thinks screw it, my waistline can go haywire if he'll continue doing that.

When they finally politely get asked to make their way out of the ice cream shop before security makes their exit a bit more dramatic, each couple seems to go in their own direction fairly quickly.

Blaine pulls into the Hummel-Hudson driveway, getting out of his car just as Quinn and Finn pull up and disappear into the house, causing Kurt to snort something along the lines of "Dad will be thrilled.", before he feels his hand tugged back by Blaine.

"Your crown's still on."

"Oh."

"I just meant. You know, if you didn't want your dad to know or maybe just didn't realise."

Kurt squeezes his hand gratefully, extracting the gold spray painted plastic from his hair and throwing it past Blaine into the still open car, closing the door behind it. They make their way to the porch silently, fingers laced and Blaine's thumb rubbing soothing circles into Kurt's palm, even though he really doesn't need to at the moment. As much fun as facing up to everyone at prom had ended up being, Kurt has to admit, spending more time with Blaine and New Directions afterwards had been just what he had needed.

"I'd invite you in, but… ever since that embarrassing episode with him that I haven't forgiven you for instigating yet, I don't know how he'd handle that…"

They laugh, nervously. Because yeah, it's an awkward topic for them to breach at this moment and time still.

"But thanks. For… well, everything. If you hadn't come I don't know how I would have made it through the whole… thing. And if you hadn't made me go have fun at that strange, strange place I shall never set a foot in again, well, I would have spent at least half the night in tears at the memory of today. So thanks. For everything. Especially for being such a perfect, amazing boyfriend. Even if you can't dance."

"Oh I protest! I think I turned quite a few heads with my amazing moves."

"And saying that to me is helping your case how?" Kurt smirks at the older boy for a second, unwilling to let go of his hands.

"But you have nothing to thank me for. I didn't even have the courage to go, until I saw how excited you were about it. I'm just glad I could give you a bit of the prom everyone should have. Even if not everything went according to plan."

They stand there, almost getting overrun by Finn and Quinn, who appear again, loaded with cluttering bags.

"What the…" Kurt murmurs, seeing the two stuff the things into Blaine's car with excited smirks. Beside Kurt, Blaine seems almost as baffled.

"My car is not a storage unit. I will not vouch for you if the police comes by and asks to inspect my backseat, just so you know."

But Finn just starts jumping up and down. "Come on!"

"What?"

"We got all the ice cream from the cupboard that said 'Dad, I mean it. Keep away from this, it's mine and I will unleash the wrath of three cans of glitter on you if you dare touch my Ben&Jerry's!'."

Kurt is so close to asking how exactly that makes everything make sense. Quinn seems to notice and fixes him with a kind smile.

"Prom night tradition, right? Watching the sunrise? Finn read it… somewhere. And had the idea that we should go. So you and Blaine in?"

"Where there's ice cream, there's me" Blaine chirps happily, tugging on Kurt's hand as the younger boy giggles softly, quietly acquiescing with the statement.

They all meet up again on a hill a small distance off. There's a long line of cars belonging to the various members of New Directions, ranging from Puck's quaint truck to Blaine's BMW. So they walk through the night, sometimes holding hands in pairs, sometimes in the whole group, cracking jokes, feeding each other the ice cream they raided from Kurt's secret stash for those rainy days when Blaine loses his phone charger and they can't text. They can barely feel the cool wind brushing against them, too caught up in their bliss, rotating the crown that Finn stole from the car between their heads and impersonating the most ridiculous, sappy acceptance speeches and singing whatever show tunes get suggested (Kurt and Rachel will never forget getting them through the entire Wicked album).

And when the sun rises, a copper sheen that paints the green canvas of the moss-covered hill, they awaken, tangled in each other all in some way, whether it's Tina's head resting on Santana's outstretched arm or Rachel, utilising Puck's stomach as a pillow. Next to them lie the remains of several ice cream tubes, spoons littering the floor everywhere, but they really don't care. It's too early to wake up and end this.

There is only that idyllic elation that lifts their hearts as they laugh heartily at words exchanged and jokes told, refusing even for a minute to let anything that could ruin this perfect moment of camaraderie between everyone wash over them.