This was a prompt from the lovely ShiniRoza who has some great one shots if you're looking. Title from the song Just Give Me A Reason by Pink and Nate Ruess

'DAMN IT BLAINE!' The crash of shattering glass rings loudly in Kurt's ears. He barely registers his hand faltering around the glass held between his fingers, doesn't even look down as it hits the floor and shards scatter in a thousand different directions, tiny daggers slashing through the atmosphere and falling pathetically around his feet. There's probably something symbolic about the fact that he has to tread lightly in order to move in any direction but he doesn't pick up on it, and it doesn't do him any good as he continues to yell. 'I was worried. I'm hardly trying to control you!'

'Then why do you want to know where I am every second of every day?' Blaine's eyes blaze a deep honey-brown, an eruption of molten rage, the colour burning like stars in the flecks of his irises. His lips are set tight, his gaze fixed on where the glass had been held in Kurt's hand only seconds before, always so overdramatic, he thinks.

'I was just saying I was worried. That's all!' Kurt spits the words out, trembling where he stands as he feels the uninhibited anger rage through his veins. Every ounce of his body wants to scream, wants to grab Blaine and shake him and yell for them to please not fight but he can't quite find the words to express it, instead he only seems to add fuel to the fire as he continues to scream. 'God knows it would be nice to get a text every once in a while.'

'Oh that's it, you want to know where I am, who I'm with, what I'm doing.' Blaine's got that dark look in his eye, his voice has gone from a ragged, feral snarl to something calmer, goading, smooth as silk as it works its way under Kurt's skin, an itch he can't quite seem to scratch. It makes Kurt's blood boil.

They've been building up to this for weeks, the sudden shock of living together has thrown them both for a loop. It had started with just little things, strange quirks that they'd previously loved about each other had started to rub them the wrong way. And then there was the intimacy, the hot, overwhelming closeness. They could barely move without stepping on each other toes. And it's not that they don't love each other or love living together, it's just that neither of them had anticipated how hard it would be, how the tone of a voice could irritate them for the rest of the day. Kurt always left his shoes in the door way and Blaine never cleaned up after he cooked and all these tiny little inconsequential things had been welling up inside them until eventually they were screaming at each other in the middle of their apartment.

'More like who you're doing.' A soon as he says it Kurt knows it's a mistake. Blaine's head whips up quicker than the glass had smashed and there's nothing but pain in his eyes when they meet Kurt's, if only for a second. It's an intense kind of pain, hurt and betrayal and shame shimmering in the tears that well almost immediately in his eyes.

'You don't trust me.' It's a choked off whisper and all of a sudden Blaine's a child being reprimanded, he curls in on himself, avoiding Kurt's gaze and trying to hide the tears so obviously present behind his closed eyelids.

'No Blaine that's not what I meant I'm sorry- fuck.' Kurt curses, he takes a step forward and immediately feels the sharp stab of pain as the broken glass digs into his foot.

'NO! You don't trust me! Well fine Kurt, you think I'm screwing someone else? Maybe I'll go and do just that.' The anger bubbles in Blaine once more, a sudden spike of rage that leaves him seeing red. The venom in his words is reflected in his eyes as they go dark, hard and bitter as they send Kurt one last reproachful look. He's already halfway to the door as Kurt chokes out another apology, and by the time Kurt manages to make it out of their kitchen, not caring how much glass is in his foot at this point, the door is already slamming behind him.

Kurt takes several shuddering breaths, the aching in his chest is far worse than the sharp throbbing in his foot could ever be, and no matter how much air reaches his lungs he still feels like he can't breathe, like he's slipping under water and there's no way he can reach the surface.

After several long minutes of staring at the closed door, trying to comprehend the fact that Blaine isn't hovering just outside (he checks just in case) and waiting to come back in, he busies himself. He pulls the broken shards from his foot, watching the blood trickle listlessly into the bathtub, and cleans himself up, before he sweeps up the rest of the pieces in the kitchen.

He paces for a while, an endless string of thoughts running rampage through his mind, a never ending torment, ricocheting from feelings of aching hollow guilt, why did I say that? Should have stopped him? Shouldn't have kept yelling? To Bitter, dejected anger aimed solely towards Blaine, why is he so stubborn? Shouldn't have left? What if he meant it? A litany of questions chase his footfalls as he wanders the empty apartment, each followed by a string of increasingly horrific scenarios that Blaine could be involved in right this second.

He leaves Blaine three voicemails and five texts, they start with apologies, shattered, barely concealed sobs into the phone and a couple of frantic texts that he can barely read in his shaking hands, then they slowly start morphing into worry and regret, before ending with the last message, a desperate, half sobbed half yelled plea for Blaine to just come home. He throws his phone across the room- it lands on the couch, luckily- when he hears it disconnect, the sound of him being cut off, not the end of the message.

Then Kurt cries.

It's a hopeless, desperate crying, tears cascading down his cheeks like the consistent crash of waves over a pitiless forgotten shore. It stings his eyes and burns his throat and it's a pain so dully present it makes him feel raw inside, like someone has sliced him open and gutted him. He curls into a ball, arms wrapping protectively around himself in a way that isn't comforting at all, and slides to the floor.

It's mainly worry and fear for Blaine's safety that tugs uneasily at his stomach, that brings another bout of relentless tears just as he thinks he's okay, and he's left gasping for breath at the very idea of what Blaine could be up to. It's getting late and they don't live in the safest of neighbourhoods. He doesn't even know where Blaine could be, he'd had his phone in his pocket when he left and that was it, no money, no credit cards, just a phone that Kurt's tried to get through to so many times already.

And then of course there's regret, guilt and shame weighing so thick and heavy in his stomach it makes him nauseous, like the burning sting of bile in the back of his throat, metallic tasting as he swallows nothing but air and yearns for so much more. All anger has mostly subsided, they've both been on edge lately, what with work and this new apartment and school, they were both angry and they both said things they didn't mean but Kurt still feels like all of this is his fault, if he hadn't said… accused Blaine then he wouldn't be in this situation now.

He waits for another hour, his frustrated sobs subsiding into pitiful hiccoughs over time, all the while his eyes are fixed resolutely on the door.

When it's apparent Blaine isn't coming home anytime soon he crawls into bed, leaving the door open despite all the dangers. The covers feel like a straightjacket, trapping him in place, as he slides impassively under them. He's far too aware of the empty side of the bed, Blaine's side, the way it's cold and gaping against his back, the way that if he turns his head to the side it still smells like Blaine's hair gel and aftershave. The very lack of Blaine weighs consistently upon him, the absence of his shallow breaths or his low humming just before he falls asleep, the lack of his warmth, his very being resting beside Kurt. It all feels so extremely wrong, and all Kurt can think is how Blaine likes to cuddle before they fall asleep and how cold he is without him, wondering where Blaine is and if he's safe and if he wishes he were in bed too.

Kurt doesn't get any sleep.

About an hour later he hears the tell-tale click of the door opening but doesn't get up. He recognises the sound of Blaine's feet padding across the floor of their living room, the curses he mutters under his breath and the jingle of keys brushing against each other as Blaine searches for their front door key in the dark. There's the sound of the door locking, more footsteps and then silence.

Blaine doesn't come to bed.

Kurt feels relief wash over him, like a train emerging from a tunnel back into daylight once more, but once that's out of the way all that's left is anger. Unbridled anger at how stupid his boyfriend is. Once he knows Blaine's safe, that he isn't lying in a ditch somewhere or being rushed to hospital, all he can think about is what a dumb idea it was for his boyfriend to storm off like that. Just because none of those things did happen doesn't mean they couldn't. And well fine, if Blaine wants to sleep on the couch and avoid seeing him all night then he can. Kurt hopes he suffers out there in that living room with nothing but the scratchy throw Rachel had given them as a house warming present to keep him warm.

Kurt still doesn't get any sleep.

At one point he thinks he hears Blaine crying outside but he can't be sure. All he knows is that he's angry, and he's hurt and most of all he feels alone. So they had a fight, so they screamed and they shouted and they broke one of the glasses that they'd picked out together just last week, that doesn't mean the bed feels any less empty without him, it doesn't mean that Kurt's hands don't still itch to reach out and pull Blaine close, it doesn't mean that they don't still love each other.

It only takes another hour for Kurt to crack. Silently he slips out of bed, pulling a blanket around his shoulders and tiptoeing towards the door. He knows Blaine isn't asleep, can tell by the sound of his breathing, too quick in the otherwise silent air. Wordlessly Kurt takes a seat at the end of the couch. Blaine sits up to give him more room, but he doesn't look Kurt in the eye.

'I missed you.' Kurt's voice is thick, rough with the weight of his earlier tears and laden with emotion. The words hang in the air for some time, Blaine still refuses to meet his eye no matter how much Kurt scrutinises his face. It's as if time sits, hangs in the balance for a couple of seconds too long, the atmosphere charged with electric anticipation, emotion rife and heady in the darkness.

And then it's as if everything collapses, falls in on itself in slow motion like a flower closing its petals for the night and Blaine's shuddering, curling into himself and gasping.

'I'm so sorry Kurt I'm so-'

'Sssh shh.' Kurt can't remember a time when he's moved so quickly, lurching forwards to wrap his arms around Blaine and pull him close, just breathing him in and savouring him, holding him as if he'll never let go. 'No I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that I shouldn't have accused you-'

'No, I should have told you I was going to be late, I should've just texted you, you have a right to know-'

'No it's your life, I don't own you , you can go out if you want.'

'I'm sorry.' Blaine's words are strangled, his eyes red and raw looking, innocent and pleading as they meet Kurt's for the first time all night. He shudders into Kurt's arms, clawing at Kurt's chest as if to get closer, and burying his head in the fabric he meets.

'No I'm sorry, I didn't mean what I said, any of it. I trust you completely. You know that don't you?' Kurt moves to settle more comfortably on the sofa, he pulls Blaine close against his chest, stroking comfortingly at the other man's back, holding him close and reassuring himself that Blaine's really here, really safe.

'Of course. I'm so sorry I picked that stupid fight with you.'

'It's not your fault, we were both on edge, and I'm not even angry about that. I'm upset that you left, that was a really dumb thing to do.'

'I know.'

'You have a habit of storming off every time we fight.'

'I don't like confrontation.'

'I know that hon, it's just that couples fight, we're going to fight again, and I know that we both still need to work on expressing ourselves when we're upset, it's a problem that's held us back in the past, but I need you to promise me you'll never storm off like that again, at least not at night.'

'I promise. I promise you Kurt.' Blaine shakes his head vehemently into Kurt's shirt. Kurt laughs, it's dry and humourless, but fond all the same.

'Scream and shout at me all you want, just don't ever do that to me again.'

'I promise, and I'm so sorry babe I'll make it up to you I swear.'

'Forget about it sweetheart, it was partly my fault too, and we were due our first fight anyway.'

'I'll call you next time I'm staying out late with friends.'

'And I won't pick a fight with you next time you forget.' Kurt kisses the top of Blaine's head, where the gel is all but gone and yet his curls still smell like raspberries.

'Do you think we could go to bed now?'

Kurt nods and gets to his feet, leading Blaine by the hand back towards their bedroom. As soon as Blaine gets ready they fall into bed together, it's almost 3am at this point. The duvet rests warm and comforting over both of them, and all of sudden it isn't the faint smell of Blaine's hair gel that sends a pang through Kurt's heart, it's the man himself, warm and present, he smells like spice and musk and raspberries and Blaine, that wonderful scent that isn't manufactured at all and yet still clings to all of his clothes. Blaine's breathing is soft, it tickles a the back of Kurt's neck where they're pressed up against each other, murmured kisses pressed against his back. Everything's so warm, their shared body heat mingling together under the covers as the two of them curl into one being. Blaine's arms wrap around Kurt's chest, and Kurt burrows down, cuddles close and just holds him.

'I love you.' Blaine whispers into the darkness, and before they know it they fall asleep, wrapped in each other's arms, and more content than they've ever been. They hold each other so close all night that when they wake up in the morning they're in exactly the same position they fell asleep in, and they lie in, ignoring their alarm blaring next to them, and pressing lazy morning kisses to each other's lips instead.

'I love you too. So much.'

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed, tell me what you think!