A/N: This is a re-write.
When the first drops of rain touch Kurt's bare shoulders and roll down his back, he almost cums right then.
"Oh my God," he moans into Blaine's neck.
"I know, right?" Blaine agrees, but Blaine's not talking about the rain. He couldn't care less about the rain, to be honest. It's Kurt's reaction to the rain that makes this hot – his constant, non-stop moaning; his head thrown back to watch the sky as Blaine moves inside him, lazy drags to the rhythm of the falling drops; Kurt clenching around him, and not just his ass over Blaine's cock, but his legs around his waist and his arms around his shoulders, fighting to hold on even though Blaine's grip on him is like iron, propping him against the rounded metal railing of the balcony. Kurt has always had a thing about rain, and Blaine has a thing about making Kurt's fantasies come true. So the second he discovered that they would be expecting a mild summer storm, he started planning. Once he saw dark clouds close in overhead, he began seducing his fiancé with a shoulder massage, dirty murmurs, and progressively urgent kisses, traveling from his chin to his chest and back up his neck, vacationing briefly at his mouth. When the first drops of rain knocked against the glass patio doors, Blaine stripped Kurt down and carried him out on to their private balcony so they could fully enjoy the experience.
"Do you like that?" Blaine whispers, rocking into Kurt's body, barely brushing against that one spot inside him that could end this way too quickly.
"Yes," Kurt moans. "Yes, God, yes!" Kurt laughs. "I can't believe we're doing this!"
"Well, your wish is my command, my love."
"God, I love you." Kurt leans back against the smooth, metal rail to catch a few drops on his tongue. "I love you, I love you, I…lo-urgle!" Suddenly, what started as a sprinkling of small drops turns instantaneously into a deluge, leaving Kurt coughing and sputtering around a mouthful of water.
"Kurt!" Blaine stills his hips, smacking his fiancé hard on the back to keep him from choking, each loud slap stinging Kurt's cold skin. "Kurt! Are you okay?"
"Yeah!" Kurt coughs. "Ow! Stop that! I'm fine!"
"Are you sure?" Blaine asks, raising his voice over the rain pounding the wood floor.
"Yeah" – Kurt shakes his head to clear his drooping bangs from his eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure. Let's just … keep going."
"Al-right," Blaine agrees with audible trepidation. "If that's what you want." Somewhere in the distance, a flash of lightning brightens the sky, and Blaine quickly yanks Kurt away from the metal railing, fumbling with his slick skin and almost dropping him to the deck. Carefully, he carries Kurt to a nearby wood table and starts again, slower, more apprehensive, with his eyes and ears on high alert as another streak of lighting crackles overhead and a clap of thunder rattles the sky.
"Yesss," Kurt moans, lying back and stretching out on the table top. "That's urgle!" Another moan, another mouthful of water, this time with the added effect of drops up his nose, burning his sinuses. "(Cough-cough) Why don't I (cough-cough) sit up a bit?"
"Good idea." Blaine changes his arm position, hugging around Kurt's torso to help support his back. Once Kurt finds a groove in the table where he can sit comfortably, it takes only a moment of Blaine driving in and out of his body before he starts to lose himself in it, lightning and thunder and possible imminent death be damned. Kurt's skin becomes chill, his body shivering in the most erotic way, with Blaine holding him steady in his embrace.
"Oh, Kurt," Blaine mumbles through trembling lips. "Oh, Kurt … fuck, Kurt … Kur-crash!"
Both men jump, Kurt throwing his arms around his fiancé and holding on tight as lightning cuts through the sky and strikes a nearby tree. From where they sit, awkwardly balanced on a table in the rain, they hear the sizzle of singed branches, smell the charred leaves.
"Okay!" Kurt coughs through the remains of rain water in his throat. "Okay, I give! I give! Let's go back inside!"
"Are you sure?" Blaine runs his fingers through his own soaking wet hair, which does next to absolutely nothing to clear it from his eyes when the rain hits him again. "I mean, this is your fantasy, isn't it?"
"Yeah, but the fantasy doesn't end with us drowning! Or getting fried!" Kurt yells above the persistent downpour. "Get us inside! Quickly!"
"You know" – Blaine hoists Kurt up onto his hips and hobble-runs inside with his naked fiancé wrapped around his waist – "this might work better if you climbed off me and walked."
"No way. I'm too traumatized to move! And besides" - Kurt gives Blaine a wink - "no one said we were done yet."