Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is not mine.

A/N: Title from Katy Perry's 'Teenage Dream'. Not quite canon compliant after 'I Am the Unicorn'.

They're waiting in line together for lunch when a flock of giggling sophomore girls swarms in and puts up a poster for the homecoming dance. Three weeks from now, it will start at 7:30 and go until 11:00. Tickets are ten dollars and formal wear isn't required, but the little stick figures wearing poofy dresses seem to say that it would be preferred.

Blaine gives Kurt a purposeful look as they pick up their respective lunches of taco surprise and salad. Kurt doesn't notice, too busy discussing what his campaign platform should be for the upcoming election. With everyone still in the lunch line, the table is empty and Blaine slips his hand on Kurt's knee and squeezes.

"You know, this time around we wouldn't have to deal with all the stupid guest forms," Blaine says kindly.

He's smiling but the set of his eyebrows tells Kurt that he's worried. It's not hard to guess why, because Kurt would bet his favorite pair of Dr Martens that Blaine is thinking about the same thing as him: prom.

"It'd be nice," Kurt agrees, slipping his hand into Blaine's, "But we don't have to decide now."

Mercedes wants to get some ideas for her homecoming dress, so she recruited Kurt to help her take the mall by force. After a solid three hours of flitting from store to store, studying what seems to be popular in cuts and patterns this year, they're taking a much needed Starbucks break in the food court.

"If I see one more dress with animal print done in sequins, I'm going to scream," Kurt groans, throwing his hand over his face dramatically.

Mercedes snorts into her latte, getting a little foam on the tip of her nose. Kurt thinks it's a mixture of gross and adorable, but doesn't tell her so, because the dress hunt hasn't been going as well as hoped and it's likely that she'll throttle him before he could get to the complimentary part.

"Well, since you can't bear the fashion choices of mere mortals, what will you be dazzling the crowds with, boo?"

Kurt fidgets in his seat, drumming his free hand against the table. And Mercedes, being the best of all best friends, knows this means something is up. She leans in like a conspirator, all solemn eyes and no smile. Never before has she known Kurt Hummel not to jump at the opportunity to show his fashion prowess compared to the majority of Lima's population.

"You've got ten seconds to spill about why you're quiet, then I'm going to move onto physical force," Mercedes warns him.

"It's nothing. With my ungodly new schedule, I haven't had the time to sit down and do homecoming sketches yet."

Kurt smiles at her, sweet but not reaching his eyes. Something is definitely up, but he doesn't want to talk about it right now, so Mercedes goes 'alright' like she believes him. When they finish their coffee, Kurt seems to have a new vigor for all the sequin animal print and you better believe his best friend notices that too.

When Blaine feels someone clap him on the shoulder and turns around to find a grim faced Finn. And it's more than a little terrifying when Finn just looms over him for a minute before saying, "Let's go for a walk."

It's the end of the day and Kurt has to do go to some class president thing, so no one notices Blaine missing as he's led out to the parking lot. It's not a comforting thought, nor is the way Finn tugs him under the bleachers. Suddenly, Blaine is reminded of how tall Kurt's step-brother is.

"If you kill me, Kurt will be very sad," Blaine blurts out, immediately regretting it.

"Dude. I'm not gonna kill you. I need advice for asking Rach to homecoming since you're like a romance guru."

And Blaine just stares, wondering where this reputation comes from, because he's sure that he was terrible at being romantic. He tells Finn so, but the other boy just shakes his head stubbornly.

"Kurt tells me all about the dates and stuff you guys do. That's the kind of stuff I need, because it's senior homecoming and I want to do something special."

Finn has this weird mix of determination and desperation in his eyes that makes Blaine's heart twist. He agrees to help without a second thought and by the end of the afternoon, they've got a careful plan that involves luring Rachel into the choir room and the song I Wanna Know What Love Is.

Now, they're hanging out in Finn's room, playing Call of Duty and waiting for Kurt to get home so they order out for dinner. Just as Blaine is about to snip some ass who's gay bashing over live, Finn asks, "So, how are you asking Kurt to the dance? Or did he ask you?"

Glancing over at Finn, Blaine almost misses his headshot on the basher. Almost. (They do a celebratory brofist, because it was a sweet shot and Blaine's come a long way from when they first started playing and Finn had to revive him a billion times every round).

"We've just been talking, no real asking yet," Blaine says, then adds, "Top of the stairs are clear now."

"Awesome! The stairs thing, not the no asking. What's up with that?"

Next to him, Blaine stiffens up ever so slightly and shrugs. He starts sniping more of the people who are clogging up live with clean, efficient shots. And Finn kinda nods to himself and joins in, because even if everyone says he's dumb, he knows when to keep his mouth shut.

Kurt is in Calc with Tina, chatting about Glee Club's lesson of the week (overcoming self-doubt) and pretending to do their homework when Principal Figgins' voice comes over the loudspeaker.

"Attention, ladies and gentlemen of McKinley High! As I am sure you know, homecoming is one week from now."

The room explodes with chatter, cheering, and high-fiving. Tina and Kurt exchange a look that's ¾ annoyance but still ¼ giddiness, because excitement is catching. Or at least it is unless you're Figgins, who sounds the same as always.

"And with homecoming, naturally, there is the tradition homecoming royalty. However, this year we have a small change to the rules: we will no longer be allowing write-in votes for school elections. With that said, let us have a homecoming worth remembering!"

The loudspeaker disconnects with the usual static, but it seems deafening in the now silent classroom. Kurt is aware of the fact that, not for the first time in his life, all eyes are on him and everyone in the class knows exactly why there will be no write-in votes this year.

"Kurt," Tina says, oh-so-softly, "Are you okay?"

Still aware of everyone watching them, Kurt tosses his head and laughs in a way that sounds fake even to his own ears. "Guess they didn't want me to risk stealing the show again. It's their loss, because I was already starting drafts for my coronation speech."

He glances around the room quickly, challenging anyone in class to say anything about it. And maybe it's because Calculus generally doesn't attract the jock stereotype that like to make Kurt's life miserable, but no one says a word. Even the teacher seems uncomfortable when she clears her throat and chides, "Back to work, everyone."

Kurt snaps his head down then, focusing on the first equation he sees. Underneath their pushed together desks, Tina squeezes his hand lightly and says, "You're amazing, Kurt."

He pretends not to hear her.

In English class, a note floats onto Blaine's desk. It's adderessd to 'Birdie' in curly, looping cursive and the 'I's are dotted with hearts. Blaine would have assumed it belonged to someone else, except for the fact that when he looked up, Brittany waved excitedly from across the room.

He opens the note up and is assaulted by a medley of highlighter doodles of the same cartoon couple all over the margins. One has a big, swoopy hair and the other's face is 90% little triangles. They're doing couple-y things like holding hands and kissing and, in one bizarre drawing, riding a unicorn.

Inside the drawings, there's a short note, written in pink ink:

Dear Birdie,

If you aren't already going to the dance with Kurtsie, you and me should go together and we can dance at all the songs, then sing together like we did last year at prom. That was so much fun and if you've already got a date, that's okay, because you can come with me to the club and all you need to do is wear a low-cut top to get in for free.

Love and Kisses,
Brittany S. Pierce

p.s. If you do decide to go with Kurtsie, I promise not to be mad, because even though I'm hot you guys are like unicorn dolphin soul mates and it's awesome.

Blaine doesn't pass a note back, because he knows that he really should be paying attention to the lecture, but when class is over, he does give Brittany a tight hug. And even if she does squeal right in his ear and people stare, it's always going to be worth it.

The song is a slow one, some country ballad that Kurt doesn't know but it must be popular, because Blaine is humming along under his breath. And it's silly, but even if they're just swaying to the beat, the fact that they can dance with their cheeks pressed together and arms around each-other's neck makes Kurt's stomach do flips.

As the song fades out, Blaine pulls away slightly and kisses Kurt on the cheek; fast and fleeting. Eyes shining, he asks, "So, are you glad we did this?"

In his suit vest and dress shirt, Blaine is far too handsome to be looking so nervous. Both of them have bad track records when it comes to school dances, but if he thinks that Kurt's senior homecoming will be remembered as anything less than amazing, Blaine is delusional. And after telling his boyfriend that, Kurt kisses him soundly on the mouth to prove his point.

"What time do you have to get back tonight?" Blaine asked, sounding dazed.

Kurt grins, runs a hand through Blaine's hair. "Mmm, I may have gotten permission to spend the night. Good surprise?"

"Best surprise," Blaine corrects and grins as a familiar song starts up, "It's Beyonce. We're pretty much forced to belt our hearts out and do the Single Ladies dance, aren't we?"

Kurt pretends he never heard the question, because really, there's no reason to ever not shake it to Beyonce.

(Even if your homecoming just so happens to be in dining room of your boyfriend's house, following early dinner and pictures with all their friends, ending with the two of you asleep in his bed, curled up after watching movies.)