Day
Klaine Advent day 4- Here, we take a peek into the Cabin Crew!Klaine verse.
It's just an ordinary day. There's nothing special about it, there are no events to organize or celebrate. No where to be at any specific time. But it means something all the same.
There are no birds chirping happily outside the bedroom window while the morning sun shares its heat and brightness. The morning is rather vile actually, with dark clouds filtering through the bleak, gray skies. There's a threat of rain up there, maybe even hail.
But they could care less.
Kurt rolls over in bed, he shivers at the jab of cool air as the blanket slips from his shoulder and turns on his side; reluctantly letting his arm slip free of the sleepy warmth of the bed covers.
07.44 The alarm clock on the night stand reads in bold, red blinking digits.
He doesn't even startle when a warm arm wraps around his waist, a hand clamped around his hip; and he's pulled back into the middle of the bed, his back up against a smooth, bare chest radiating heat and comfort.
There is warm breath against the nape of his neck and a nose nuzzling the hair at the back of his head. A pair of bristly legs scrapes against his own in a very fond and familiar way.
"Don't look at the time." Blaine's voice is low and rough, murmured into Kurt's shoulder blade followed by a circle of soft kisses.
"It's freezing out, today." Kurt mumbles back, loving the feel of Blaine pressed up close behind him, giving him his warmth and his love. His everything.
"So?" A wet kiss is placed at the top of Kurt's spine. "It's our day off, baby. We're not flying. We're not going out. We're not doing anything. This is our day."
Over in the corner of the room, hanging side by side on the closet door is a matching set of smart, pressed navy uniforms. One with a gold pin fixed to a blazer with a pilots cap hanging from the edge of the hanger. And the other, with a fitted button up vest with a gold striped ascot to match.
Their working uniforms. Their flying uniforms. But not today.
Kurt rolls over, touches his nose to Blaine's and presses a knee softly between his thighs. "We're not doing anything at all?" He lifts a hand under the covers and rests it just under Blaine's belly. His fingers achingly close to the place where Blaine is slowly thrusting against the mattress in anticipation.
"Well, I wouldn't say that, exactly." Blaine grins wolfishly. Suddenly he grabs Kurt by the arms and pulls him so that he's lying on top of him, chest to chest.
"Come on, Mr Hummel." He whispers, his eyes sleep soft but light and playful. "No dilly dallying. Don't keep your Captain waiting."
"My captain or my husband?"
"Both."