Because Blaine really needs a ring, too. PG-13, 1199 words.
Kurt pulled out his phone and triple-checked that Blaine hadn’t sent him an “I’m gonna be early!” text in the past fifteen seconds, unlocking the screen with one hand as he stirred the gravy on the stovetop with the other. The potatoes were already boiled and mashed and the roast was in the oven, so he was doing well for time, but he didn’t want Blaine to surprise him before he could put the finishing touches on everything.
The night had to be perfect.
Finally, the gravy was cooked to perfection, so Kurt put a lid on it and turned the heat down. He ran off to their bedroom, stripping out of his chore-appropriate clothing at light speed and putting on his carefully planned dinner outfit – a close-fitting peach button-down with little threads of gold that glinted in the light, dark wheat-colored pants that hugged his ass to perfection, and a bow tie with tiny lightning bolts. Checking his back pocket to make sure there were no tell-tale lines, he hustled back out to the kitchen to make sure nothing had caught on fire in the scant amount of time he’d been gone.
“Breathe, Kurt,” he said quietly after making sure the food was okay. “It’s gonna be fine. You already know how this will turn out, for God’s sake.”