My first Glee fic! A healthy dose of Klaine angst and just a tad bit of fluff.

A/U set about two years in the future with Kurt deciding not to attend NYADA, not too sure why, he just doesn't.

Beta'd by the lovely There's A Time Lord In Lima.


When It Rains

You never did like the rain.

You would always complain about how it messed up your perfectly gelled, raven hair, how it turned the sky into a mural of grey and the ground into a muddy brown mess. When it rains I always find you with a cigarette hanging loosely from your lips and wisps of thick smoke snaking around you and clogging the air.

You didn't really like them, but there was something about the rain that seemed to change you and as that first low rumble erupted from the sky and droplets as cold as ice would pelt down on our unsuspecting neighborhood, your head would snap up and your eyes would grow dark. You never spoke, only grabbing the white and gold package from the drawer before shaking a cigarette free and trapping it between perfect, full lips and taking a steady drag.

I never complained about the smoke or my growing concerns for your health, I just watched you walk to the back porch and settle into a lawn chair with your knees pulled up to your chest, staring at the sky as if waiting for the answers to all of your problems.

For some reason today felt different and I decided to watch you, my hands submerged in a sink of hot, soapy water while humming the tune from that God awful reality show you begged me to watch last night. You don't look any different at first, but when I squint and crane my neck to get a better look I see tears streaming down your fair cheeks. It scares me.

I always liked to think our relationship was one built on trust and the ability to speak without being judged, so when I see you like this I begin to wonder if maybe there's a rift between us and you no longer trusted me with your secrets. It wasn't a spur of the moment thought; you had been acting strangely for a while now. You don't talk much and there's a lack of singing that comes from the shower each morning. Over time I begin realize how much I miss your voice.

I also miss the soft, caressing touches exchanged between us just because they could be. I miss my best friend, my boyfriend and my lover, and right now life just seems unfair. You always were the strong one, and even when our problems seemed to hit us the hardest and life would twist and turn like a braid in dark curly hair, you were the one who always smiled and shrugged, because you always did see the bright side of things.

I put down the cup I had been drying and I grip the counter top so hard my knuckles are glowing white and I have to let go to ease the pain in my fingers. Deciding now is as good of a time as any, I make my way towards you.

You're still sitting rigid and unmoving as the glass door slides open and I allow myself to slip outside behind you. The wind is blowing the trees and raindrops pepper your grey t-shirt, but you don't even notice. Your shoulders are shaking and the cigarette that was slowly burning out between your fingers falls to the ground, the embers still glowing and the smoke still rising.

I rest my chin on your shoulders and breathe in the scent of your cologne, wishing I knew what was wrong with you. You sigh, long and deep and I press a kiss to the back of your neck, savoring the sweet taste of your skin.

The silence around us is suffocating and the tension could easily be cut with a knife. In my mind I decide that maybe you're just lost and you need a little help finding your way back. And by helping you I may be able to find myself along the way, because even now I'm beginning to wonder what my purpose is in all of this.

"Let's go for a walk," I say finally and you fix me with a curious gaze and furrowed eyebrows. I smile and tap your nose with my index finger, and wipe the tears from your cheeks.

"Come on," I urge, tugging on your toned, muscular arm as you hesitantly bring yourself to your feet, pulling your jacket tightly around you.

Our neighborhood is quiet, with houses nestled on beds of green grass and in between tall leafy trees. In front of ours is a perfect rhododendron bush and a tire swing hanging from the big oak tree in the backyard because you told me how much you just had to have it. I had laughed and shook my head and you had kissed me when I finally said yes.

We step off the porch and your fingers tangle in mine, like a reflex you have no control over and I squeeze your hand, just to let you know I'm there.

We walk in synch, right foot first, then left and all I can hear is the soft thud of your boots on the ground.

"You're starting to scare me you know?" You glance up and flash that half smile that melts my heart and makes you look like a small child. You kick a pebble and watch it skid across the wet asphalt, promptly ignoring my comment. Our footsteps have slowed slightly and your hand becomes loose in mine before falling back to your side, but I still keep talking.

"Sometimes I wish you'd just talk to me... I just wonder what's going on in that mind of yours sometimes," I say with a shrug. You rub a hand over your face and for once I can actually see how tired you are, the dark marks beneath your eyes giving you away. You spread your arms, palms facing up and glare at the angry grey sky above us. It's like you're daring the rain to keep falling, like you're surrendering to something but you're not sure what and I see so much pain clouded in your eyes that it makes breathing harder.

"Rachel called today..." You're smiling now, but there's something in your eyes that tells me this is more serious than a phone call. You suck in a breath and ball your hands into fists, slowly clenching and unclenching them.

"She told me how beautiful New York was... How amazing NYADA is and how close she is to actually becoming something she wants to be..." you pause, tears shining in your eyes, hair plastered to your face and your shirt clinging to your chest.

"And I realized that should be you... You're not the one who's supposed to be stuck in Ohio with me, working in a garage where your clothes get dirty and you come home with grease all over you." We both laugh at that, and I notice that you've stepped even closer, your face just inches from mine and your warm breath hitting my cheek. I exhale and smile sadly at you.

"You really think that I'd give up a life with you to run around in a crowded city filled with rude people who drink too much coffee and eat too much greasy pizza?" I cup your face with one hand and rest my forehead against yours, "I'm here because I want you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." You're crying again, but your lips slowly spread into a smile and you rest your hand on top of mine and squeeze tightly.

"I love you," you whisper, and more tears fall, mixing with the rain and creating a salty concoction I can still taste.

"I love you," I say back, letting my lips slowly mesh with yours, one hand tangling in your damp mass of curls. Your teeth tug at my bottom lip, and it's not until the need to breathe becomes unbearable that we break apart.

Your hand is enclosed in mine and you smile that half smile again, tilting your head slightly to the side as a look of mischief flashes in your coffee colored eyes.

"Race you home?"

"On the count of three."

"One."

You give my fingers a squeeze.

"Two."

Your tears have dried and the rain begins to slow.

"Three."

You sprint back to the house, with my own legs catching up with you, my heart a little less heavy knowing everything's okay.