Title: Motorcycles

Author: catsblackmagic

Warning: ~

Word Count: 440

Rating: K+

Characters/Paring: Kurt/Blaine

Disclaimer: It'd be nice to own Glee. ^^ But I don't. :c

Summary: Blaine knows now from expierence that Kurt does not like motorcycles.

Author's Note: One-word prompt. ^^' The word was 'motorcycles'. This is what I thought of.

.break.-

There wasn't many things Kurt liked about Blaine's truck. It was old, grey, peeling, and the interior was completely a gaudy maroon (even the dashboard). Sure, it ran fine (Kurt had personally inspected it himself at the shop) and yeah, it was good on gas. But it desperatly need a paint job and a redecoration treatment. It also constantaly smelled like cow manure (Blaine had said, "You'll get used to it,"). But Kurt really did like the bench seat. It was times like this -when he pressed up against Blaine, shoes off, feet curled under him, head resting on his beau's shoulder- that he adored the ton of rusty metal. 'Renegade' was playing on the classics station (hey, they both knew all the songs) and Blaine had his arm around Kurt's shoulder, tapping his fingers to the beat, singing along to the chorus. It was late summer, the last week of break, and the young couple were spending it together by driving through Ohio countryland. It was mostly warm, but a bit breezy, so a window was down, the boys dressed calmly in tee shirts and jeans. As 'Yellow Brick Road' came on, Kurt was belting the notes, high and low alike, and Blaine was watching on with love in his eyes. When it came to the high 'road' part, Kurt managed to hit it halfway, yet his voice cracked and he stopped adbruptly, suddenly alert. Beside them, a throng of motorcyclists drove past, engines roaring obnoxiously loud in the sereness of the farmland. As they passed and Blaine turned to comment on the vehicles, he found Kurt curled in on himself, shaking uncontrollably and pressed up against the passenger door. Blaine knew he needed to consol his boy, so he pulled up ahead into a desolate field. Crows scattered and called to one another harshly. Clicking off the engine, Blaine scooted over and pulled Kurt into his arms, where the boy shook and sobbed into his beau's shoulder. "Hush, you're fine. It's ok, easy," Blaine whispered, rubbing Kurt's back. After several minutes, Kurt's shaking was more controlled and easy and his sobbing eased into little sniffles.

"You ok, baby?" Blaine questioned, petting Kurt's hair, who sat on Blaine's lap, head to the other's chest.

"Yeah, I am now. It's just... My mom... She was in a car crash with motorcycles, and... I don't have a good expierience with them." Kurt sniffled, snuggling closer to Blaine.

"Oh, lovey, I'm sorry. You're ok though. You're safe, with me."

Kurt looked up, smiling lopsidedly, and reached up to plant a small kiss on his boyfriend's lips. "Thank you," he said.