Kurt fumbled with his keys, cursing under his breath as the rain escalated down his neck. After a long day of lectures at FIT, he wanted nothing more than to curl up on the couch with Rachel and watch old The Bachelorette reruns. Once the thought popped in his head, he regretted it entirely, because it only reminded him of his old movie nights with Blaine tucked under the crook of his chin.
Sighing deeply, he couldn't help the single tear that rolled down his cheek. He'd been in New York for a little over a month, and as much as he relished in the thought of being as far away from the simple-mindedness of Ohio, he couldn't deny the twange of sadness he felt at the thought of nearly 600 miles separating the bright lights and opportunities of NYC and the homophobic halls of McKinley High.
Unable to fight the urge any longer, he retrieved his phone from his pocket and dialed the seven beautiful digits he held close to his heart. With baited breath, he paced back and forth as the rings lengthened. When the familiar sound of Blaine's answering machine reached his ears, Kurt nearly hung up the phone in frustration. Nearly. However, for some reason unbeknownst to him, he couldn't do it. He couldn't bring himself to cut off what could be the only contact between him and his boyfriend in God knows how long.
Then, as if on cue, the opening strums of a guitar rang out quietly. Dumbfounded, Kurt simply gaped at the phone as the melodic voice that'd be entrancing him since he'd first heard it on the Dalton staircase began to sing.
Hey there baby,
What's it like in New York City?
You're a thousand miles away,
But Kurt, tonight you look so pretty,
Yes you do.
Time's Square can't shine as bright as you,
I swear it's true.
Hey there darling, don't you worry about the distance.
I'm right there if you get lonely,
Give this song another listen.
Close your eyes.
Listen to my voice, it's my disguise.
I'm by your side.
Oh, it's what you do to me.
Oh, it's what you do to me.
Oh, it's what you do to me.
Oh, it's what you do to me,
What you do to me.
Hey there sweetie,
I know times are getting hard.
But just believe me, Kurt,
Someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar.
We'll have it good.
We'll have the life we knew we would,
My word is good.
Hey there Kurt, I've got so much left to say.
If every song I wrote to you could take your breath away,
I'd write it all.
Even more in love with me you'd fall,
We'd have it all.
Oh, it's what you do to me.
Oh, it's what you do to me.
Oh, it's what you do to me.
Oh, it's what you do to me.
A thousand miles seem pretty far,
But they've got planes, and trains, and cars.
I'd walk to you if I had no other way.
Our friends would all make fun of us,
And we'll just laugh along,
Because we know that none of them have felt this way.
Angel, I can promise you
That by the time that we get through,
The world will never ever be the same,
And you're to blame.
Hey there sweetheart,
You be good and don't you miss me.
Two more years and you'll be done with school,
And I'll be making history like I do.
You'll know it's all because of you.
We can do whatever we want to.
Hey there Delilah,
Here's to you.
This one's for you.
Oh, it's what you do to me.
Oh, it's what you do to me.
Oh, it's what you do to me.
Oh, it's what you do to me.
What you do to me.
"Oh Blaine," Kurt said, hiccupping slightly as he wiped the tears from his eyes. By now, he was in front of his apartment, yet he wanted nothing more than to run back home. Not to Lima. To Blaine, his home. "I wish you were here, Blaine," Kurt whispered. "I miss you so badly."
"So turn around," came Blaine's voice, but it hadn't emitted from his cell phone this time.
Slowly turning on the heel of his foot, Kurt whisked around. There, a mere ten feet from his, was a soaked, beaming Blaine Anderson.
"BLAINE!" Kurt screamed, bolting at the boy and all but throwing himself into the other's arms. Blaine enclosed him, spinning him around as the two shook from a mixture of laughter and repressed tears. Pulling back a fraction, Kurt spluttered, "But-you, an-and New York, and McKinley, an-and…How?"
Blaine combed Kurt's bangs from his forehead, simply smiling and said, "You didn't honestly believe I'd go a whole year without you, did you?" When Kurt stared bewildered at him, Blaine laughed, hugging his boyfriend close to his chest. "I've been taking evening classes since the beginning of Senior Year. I earned all my credits and…well, I got into NYADA. Early admit."
When Kurt didn't do anything but blink rapidly at him, Blaine began shifting his feet uncomfortably. "I-I know this was unexpected, and I probably should have told you, but I just wanted to surprise you so badl-"
But his rambling was cut short as Kurt surged forward and captured Blaine's lips in a deep, passionate kiss, pushing him against the door to his apartment building. Blaine eagerly reciprocated, tangling his hands into Kurt's delicate hair. Breaking apart for a fraction of a moment, Kurt mouthed into the other's ear, "Welcome home."
And Blaine just smiled, leaning in to kiss his boyfriend once more. Because Kurt was right. Dalton was never his home, nor was McKinley. Home was wherever his heart resided, which was presently enveloped in his love's sweet, warm embrace.