So, this is just another one of these cute little Kurt and Blaine one-shots that I love reading and writing so much. This one made me smile as I wrote it (one of the the quickest ones I've done, especially considering there's been about six different one-shots sitting on my computer for the past month that just haven't been finished) and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do!
IN THE SUMMER RAIN
There was a soft patter of rain on the roof when Kurt glanced out his window. There was something dreary about the lack of sunlight, when the clouds covered the sky and stopped the golden rays from lighting up the Ohio town of Lima. It didn't help at all that it was summer, and the days were supposed to be happy and long. And it helped even less that he hadn't heard from Blaine in almost a week.
They'd had a fight. It had been a rather big one too, each of them vying for some semblance of control and not realizing that if they just listened, all they needed was each other. They'd searched desperately for a solution, but they were too anger-filled, too agitated to stop and consider anything from the others point of view.
And in retrospect, it seemed so petty. Kurt had asked if Blaine wanted to come over, and suddenly, it was the end of the world, because Kurt never went to Blaine's, and maybe they should divide time more evenly. Never mind the fact that Blaine didn't really want Kurt anywhere near his toxic family anyway, and had told him so many a time when Kurt had raised the exact same idea.
But Blaine was tired, and Kurt wasn't in the mood to be sympathetic. He'd had a bad day: a major case of writers block had hit him when he sat down to work on his production, and it had settled someone in the back of his brain to stay there all day.
'Kurt, I don't think this is fair. I always go to your place. You should be having to house me.'
'I like housing you, Blaine.'
'That's sure to help a guy's ego.'
'I'm just asking if you want to spend time with me, Blaine. It seems like you don't wanna spend time with me.'
'Of course I wanna spend time with you, Kurt. Just at my place.'
'You don't like having me at your place. It annoys your dad. You know that as much as I do.'
'All I know is that you don't seem very open to suggestions today.'
'All I know is that you seem to have it in your head that you don't want to see me today, and however you're going to get out of it, you will. If I agree to come to your place, you'll just tell me you have something you've forgotten you had planned, that's much more important than me.'
'I wouldn't say that at all.'
'Yes, you would Blaine. You don't want to see me. I get it.'
And he'd hung up. Yes, Kurt had hung up, and later he regretted it. Because it would have been so easy to just tell Blaine he was wrong, and that he was sorry that he was being so pushy, and it could have all been done with and he wouldn't be here now, wondering if they really had somehow, without either of them saying it, broken up.
Behind him, the TV was playing a Disney movie, one of the ones that he and Blaine loved to watch. He couldn't even tell which one it was. He'd only grabbed the case absently and shoved the disc into the slot, hardly even remembering to press play and move it past the menu screen. Sometimes, he missed the days of video, where all you had to do was shove it in, and it lasted forever, and you didn't have to worry about scratching it, and if you just blew on it, it would be fixed.
He wished he could fix him and Blaine so easily.
He spared a glance for his cell, sitting on the edge of his desk like a silent omen. It hadn't rung in a week. Neither had Blaine.
Sighing, Kurt stood up, pulling his jacket tighter around his shoulders and pacing across the room. The soft shag pile of the carpet squished between his bare toes and his nails clawed against his crossed forearms.
With a final groan and glance at the window, he balled his hands into fists at his side and stalked out the door.
The corridor was deserted, as he had expected it to be. His dad was at work, and Carole was taking him his lunch. A week ago, Blaine would have been there, helping him make lunch (or at least watching, while Kurt made lunch). Now, all that was in the house was silence, and the endless pattering of the rain on the roof.
He'd reached the front door before he was even sure what he was doing, shoving his hands roughly into his pockets. The rain was falling heavily, and it drenched his clothes and skin immediately. His hair stuck to his face and eyelashes, his clothes a deadweight of moisture.
But for some reason, it felt good. His fingers unclenched, the muscles almost numb with suddenly released tension. He held his hands out, catching the water droplets, and leaned his head back.
It was warm, a lot warmer than it had seemed inside the house, where Burt had put the air conditioner as high as it would go to compensate for the muggy weather. It had been cold enough to require layers, but out here in the open elements, he could peel off his jacket, tossing it aside without a thought. He didn't even consider the fact that it had been expensive. It would wash, he thought.
The ground was slick beneath his feet and he curled his toes, feeling the ooze of mud as it slid between the digits. The rain was washing off the sadness, cleansing him of the anger, and the pain, and even a lot of the confusion.
'Kurt?'
And the confusion was all back in one smooth word. It was only his name, but it had been spoken by that voice and when he opened his eyes, he saw Blaine, as equally drenched, standing in front of him.
'Blaine,' he managed to breathe out around his suddenly labored breath. 'What are you doing here?'
The older boy bit his lip, flicking his head to clear the hair from his face. His white shirt was clinging to his skin and Kurt had to force his eyes to stay focused on Blaine's.
'Why are you here?'
'I missed you.' He said it in a rush, as if unsure whether he could get it out quick enough, or if it would even come out at all if he left it too long. He stepped forward, but it was a cautious step and there was still a large expanse between them.
'But you didn't miss me all this past week, when you've been ignoring me?'
'You can't deny that you were ignoring me too,' Blaine replied, but there was the slightest hint of laughter in the words, and a smile lifting the corner of his mouth. 'And anyway, I've been planning how to do this.'
'Do what?'
'Tell you I'm sorry,' he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 'Because I'm horrible at romance, and I had to make sure it was perfect. I watched all the best chick-flicks, The Notebook, Say Anything, Can't Buy Me Love, and I'm pretty sure there was another twenty or so thrown in there when I was trying to calm down.' He shot Kurt a grin, biting his lip again.
'And?'
'And I came to a conclusion. That to say sorry to you properly, I really have to go all out.'
And that was when Kurt looked beyond Blaine for the first time, to his car that was parked against the curb. There was a trailer on the back, with a ride-on in it.
'I checked the weather reports, cause I knew there was rain coming up, and nothing beats making up in the rain. And I couldn't find a boom box, but I brought my iPod. And then when I turned it on, it was out of battery.'
Kurt tried to hide his grin, but it still curled his lips into a kind of half smile.
'And so instead, I guess I kind of have to just sing it myself, right?' Blaine asked, but Kurt shook his head, taking the final few steps to cross the gap between them.
'You can if you want to, but it's not necessary. I'm happy with you right here.'
And he grabbed Blaine's arms, dragging him the last foot so that their lips connected. He could feel his boyfriend's shoulders tense in surprise, but then he was relaxing into him, and the kiss tasted like rain and coffee and Blaine's cologne, and Kurt could just feel him. They'd perfected these movements over the past few months, learning each other like they would run out of time.
But this was different. There was something new about this. Perhaps it was the bittersweet taste of reconciliation, or the burn of something lost that was suddenly regained. Or perhaps it was just the fact that Blaine hadn't called because he'd wanted to make it romantic. The headcase.
With a grin, Blaine pulled back, slipping his arms comfortable around Kurt's waist. 'So do you wanna ride off on the mower?' he asked.
Kurt only grinned and disentangled himself, taking Blaine's hand and leading him to the trailer. Together, they wheeled it backwards and Blaine turned the key.
There was no sound.
'Shit,' the older boy breathed, but Kurt was laughing.
'It's out of gas.'
I really hope you enjoyed it! I'd love it if you reviewed, though I'm not going to write a pleading love letter (or drive to your house with a lawnmower) in the hopes that you will :D I'll just say please :D
Also, expect more of these, once I get my backside into gear! There's so many great ones half-written on my computer!
See you soon!
xxx Wynnie
