nerdy fangirl who writes various forms of fanfiction, and desperately hopes people likes it :) never hesitate to send me an ask about literally anything!
Written for day one of the Klaine Valentines day challenge! Just a short little fluffy kinda sexy married!klaine one-shot. I'm not sure if it really matches the prompt, but it was fun to write. See you all tomorrow for another one-shot! 💜
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The music was pounding in Kurt's ears, and Blaine had disappeared into the crowd to get them both another drink, leaving Kurt alone on the outskirts of the dance floor. He wasn't drunk, but rather pleasantly tipsy, and he was enjoying it.
"Hey, stranger," Blaine says loud enough to be heard over the pounding music, pressing a cold drink into Kurt's hand.
"Hey yourself," was Kurt's response, taking a sip from his drink, and wincing slightly at the burn of the alcohol on his throat, "is this one stronger?"
"Nah, you're just drunk," was Blaine's response, a sloppy grin on his face. Blaine looked absolutely stunning tonight, his hair loose and wild, and his long sleeved dress shirt rolled up past his forearms.
"I'm not drunk," Kurt argued, sipping from his drink again, "just pleasantly tipsy," Blaine laughed, stepping further into Kurt's space, close enough Kurt could feel his breath on his face. He'd assumed Blaine was going to kiss him, but instead the younger man just smiled in a way that made Kurt's heart skip a beat. He'd never understand how Blaine managed to have such power over him, they'd been married for three years now, and together for even longer, but all Blaine had to do was smile, and Kurt was done for.
"You look amazing tonight," Blaine breathed, before finally giving in, and they kissed, deep and passionate, Kurt's free hand grabbing Blaine's waist, while Blaine's wrapped around his neck, and it was wonderful.
"You smell good," Kurt murmured when they broke the kiss, and Blaine didn't reply, instead pulling away enough to take a long sip of hia drink.
"You're staring, honey," Blaine teased, and Kurt shrugged shamelessly.
"You're gorgeous, I'm pretty sure it's fair," was Kurt's casual response, and he watched Blaine's eyes light up with a praise.
Soon enough, their drinks were finished, their glasses taken away by a server, and as soon as their drinks were taken, Blaine had his arms around Kurt's waist, pulling him in close. Dancing with his husband was electric, the music pounding in their ears, and the feel of Blaine's racing heart against his own made it seem as if no one else was there, despite them both knowing perfectly well how many people were around them. At some point, dancing turned into seeing how subtly they could grope the other's ass, which turned into Blaine sucking hickies onto Kurt's neck, and eventually turned into their hips grinding against each other in search of some friction to relieve the tension.
"We should go home," Blaine panted into Kurt's ear, and hos voice sent shivers down Kurt's spine.
"Yeah?" Kurt asked, his mind buzzing with alcohol and arousal.
"Yeah," Blaine replied, and before Kurt knew it he was being pulled through the crowd and out of the club into the chilly New York air. Unfortunately, the cold was rather sobering, his mind clearing a little more than he would've liked. Blaine stepped back into his space, and he once again expected a kiss, before he watched realization wash over Blaine's face. The same realization that used to cross their faces in high school when they desperately wanted to kiss, but realized that in public, it wasn't always the smartest thing for them to do. So instead, just like he had in high school, Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand, and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, as a promise of what was to come. And with that, they wordlessly walked to their apartment.
Kurt had barely gotten the door locked behind him before Blaine had him pressed against the wall, kissing deeply and messily.
"Kurt," Blaine breathed, and Kurt shivered. He loved the way his name sounded on Blaine's lips. Blaine kissed him again, and he tasted of the fruity cocktail he'd been drinking, and something else that was so distinctively Blaine that Kurt could hardly breathe.
"I love you so fucking much," Kurt murmured between kisses, breathlessly tangling his hands in Blaine's hair. Blaine pulled him impossibly closer, their chests pressed together, and Kurt could feel Blaine's heart racing.
"Love you more," Blaine replied, mouthing at Kurt's jawline.
"Bedroom?" Kurt suggested, and Blaine nodded.
Half an hour later, they lay on their sides, face to face, and wonderfully satisfied.
"We're good at that," Blaine said, reaching over and taking Kurt's hand in his own. Kurt laughed, squeezing Blaine's hand lightly.
"I'm so in love with you," Kurt murmured, and Blaine smiled warmly.
"And I'm so in love with you," he promised before kissing him deeply. Eventually, they'd pull themselves from the warmth of their bed, and shower, before pulling on some ratty pajamas, and falling asleep in each other's arms, but for now, Kurt was perfectly content to stay here, curled up in Blaine's arms.
Hello! Scarlett here, I've been posting irregularly on ao3 for a couple months now, but figured I'd start cross-posting over here as well, so here's one of my favorite little Klaine fluff piece, I hope you all enjoy it!
Trigger warnings for g/ns, and p/nic att/cks
Blaine knew it was stupid.
He was twenty three. He'd been living in New York since he was nineteen. He was used to the sounds of the city.
He was pretty sure he'd never get over the sounds of gun shots.
Kurt was sound asleep next to him, snuggled up next to him, with an arm thrown lazily across his chest. Blaine wondered if Kurt could feel how fast Blaine's heart was racing. It was fine, he was fine. The gun senior year hadn't even been someone trying to shoot anyone, he knew that. Why were the sounds bothering him so much more tonight? It didn't make any sense.
A gust of wind blew through the apartment, and then he realized what it was. They'd left the window open, deciding to use the cool evening air to keep the room comfortable, opposed to the air conditioner. It had worked, both of them were comfortably wrapped in their comforter, proving that the room was cold enough, but the window being left open meant the sounds were all louder.
Blaine's breathing stopped when he heard another, unmistakable gun shot. Not only were there gun shots, but those shots meant someone died, and he couldn't do anything. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks, but instead of helping, all it did was make it easier for him to picture every terrible thing going on in the streets below them. Every image wasn't of being stuck in the choir room, knees pulled to his chest as he had the worst panic attacks of his life, back to back, without anyone there to help. No, every image he saw was finding Kurt, dead and bloodied, evidence of bullets across his beautiful skin. He remembered seeing Kurt in the hospital, all those years ago when he got beat up. He remembered getting the call like it was yesterday. Every time he got a call from an unknown number he felt like vomiting, because he feared it was someone telling him that his beautiful husband was dead.
Since all those years ago, they'd been married, and had moved to a supposedly safer part of New York, and he knew all the gunshots he heard weren't from outside their apartment. They could've been miles away, but especially at night the sound traveled easily. He knew that. But he also knew that it wasn't a terribly unlikely thing for Kurt to get shot on the way home.
He was going to be sick. Kurt had rolled over, no longer touching Blaine, so he carefully crawled out from under the covers, careful not to wake his husband. Kurt didn't need to deal with his trauma from when he was eighteen. As soon as he stood he realized throwing up wasn't a thought, but a reality. He stumbled to the bathroom, falling to his knees in front of the toilet as he threw up, tears streaming down his face. He couldn't breathe, his chest hurt. Everything hurt. Was this was a heart attack felt like? He couldn't breathe in between painful dry heaves, and that was just making him gag even more. Everything ached, he couldn't breathe, couldn't move, tears were streaming down his cheeks. He didn't know when he managed to stop throwing up, but the small victory that was barely made it to his awareness.
And then Kurt's beautiful voice cut through the blinding pain that was consuming him.
"Blaine?" he asked, his voice slightly rough from just waking up. Guilt washed over Blaine as it occurred to him that he'd woken his husband up. Kurt had an early day the next day, he didn't need Blaine getting in the way of his sleep.
"Sorry," Blaine choked out, trying to compose himself in some way, "sorry, I'm sorry,"
"Shhh," Kurt said in response, falling to his knees next to Blaine, and taking his hands in both of his, "are you going to throw up again?" he asked, and Blaine considered for a moment, but shook his head. He'd thrown up all he'd eaten that day, and the nausea was mostly gone.
"I need you to breathe, okay? I know it hurts, but you can breathe. If you breathe everything else will hurt less, okay?" and Blaine was so grateful for the man sitting next to him, his deep blue eyes so kind and loving as they looked into his. Blaine couldn't bring himself to reply as he took shaky breaths in and out, squeezing Kurt's hands as though his life depended on it.
"There you go, you're going to be okay. You're safe, I promise," and Kurt wrapped his arms tightly around him, and Blaine all but melted into Kurt's chest, sobbing into his shoulder. When his breathing had somewhat calmed, and he felt somewhat in control of himself again, he pulled away slightly, once again feeling guilty for waking Kurt.
"Hey, don't feel bad for waking me up," Kurt said, before Blaine could apologize, and despite his guilt, Blaine felt his heart soar at how much this man truly knew him.
"I'm still sorry," Blaine said, his voice raw from throwing up.
"I'm your husband, it's my job to help you when something is wrong," Kurt replied, simply. Blaine let himself relax back into Kurt's arms momentarily.
"How about you brush your teeth, to get rid of the taste, and I'll go make some tea, and then we can sit and talk for a while?" Kurt suggested, and Blaine was quiet for a long moment.
"Would you stay here while I brush my teeth?" he asked, and Kurt nodded instantly.
"Of course," he said, and he stood, offering Blaine his hand. Blaine took it, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. Kurt stood next to the sink, patiently as Blaine brushed his teeth, and washed his mouth out with mouth wash. When he'd finished, Kurt took his hand, and lead him to the kitchen. Blaine hovered next to his husband as Kurt filled the kettle with water, and set it on the stove to boil.
"What kind of tea would you like?" Kurt asked, selecting a tea bag for himself.
"Whatever you're having," Blaine replied, and Kurt pulled a second tea bag from the tea box, before turning to the cupboard and glancing over the mugs they had. Kurt selected his favorite one, one that Blaine had bought for him for their first wedding anniversary. It wasn't particularly fancy, just a white mug, that was decorated with red and yellow flowers. Blaine had bought it, because red and yellow flowers had always been their thing, red for love, and yellow for friendship. Kurt studied the cabinet a moment longer, before selecting another fairly simple mug, this one with a yellow warbler drawing being the main design. Kurt set both mugs on the counter, ripping open the tea bags with his teeth, something he'd always done, but Blaine had never understood why. He knew each individual detail of what his husband was doing didn't matter, but paying attention to them always seemed to calm Blaine down. The kettle wasn't boiling yet, but Kurt seemed to think it was warm enough, as he poured the steaming water into each mug, holding the tea bag string with his finger so that the tea bag didn't get pulled all the way into the mug. He spooned sugar into each mug, two spoonfuls into his, and four into Blaine's.
"Here," Kurt said, pressing the warm mug into Blaine's hands. Blaine expected it to be almost painfully hot, but it was pleasantly warm instead.
"Thank you," Blaine said, and Kurt smiled softly, pressing a kiss to Blaine's cheek as he walked past, from the kitchen, to the couch in their makeshift living room. Blaine following, sitting next to his lover, and resting his head against Kurt's shoulder.
"What happened?" Kurt asked softly, no anger or judgement in his voice, just interest.
"There were gunshots," Blaine said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Oh, baby," Kurt said, wrapping his free arm around Blaine's shoulders, "you should've woken me up,"
"You have work early tomorrow," Blaine explained, and Kurt shook his head.
"That doesn't matter. If something is wrong, Blaine, I want you to wake me up, okay? I don't want you to have to go through that sort of thing alone," And Blaine sighed, setting his mug on the coffee table as he rubbed his face with his now free hands.
"I just hate feeling like I can't handle things. I'm twenty three, Kurt. I know we've both started thinking about kids, how am I supposed to be a father if I can't handle my own shit myself?" Blaine asked, and he felt tears pricking in his eyes once again.
"Oh, Blaine," Kurt breathed, his own tea placed on the coffee table beside Blaine's, reaching and pulled Blaine's hands from where they were nervously running through his hair, instead squeezing them tight in his own hands, "your trauma doesn't mean you'll be any less of a father," Blaine didn't have an answer for that, he instead let himself fall back into Kurt's arms.
"I couldn't stop picturing you getting shot," Blaine admitted, and Kurt just held him tighter.
"I'm okay. We're safe here, Blaine," and Blaine's breathing was still shaky as tears rolled down his cheeks, but in that moment, wrapped in Kurt's arms, he truly felt safe.
"I love you," he said after a long moment, and Kurt rubbed his back softly.
"I love you too, Blaine. So much," and Kurt pushed him away just enough to see his face, wiping his tears away before leaning in to kiss him. Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's neck, kissing him back, gently.
"How about we go back to bed?" Kurt suggested, and Blaine nodded slowly.
"Can we... can we close the window?" Blaine asked, and Kurt didn't even question it.
"Absolutely," and when they'd both stood from the couch, Kurt reached for Blaine's hand again as they walked to the bedroom. Kurt closed the window, before following Blaine to the bed, crawling in next to him, and rolling so they were facing each other, their legs tangled together, and arms wrapped around each other.
"I love you," Blaine breathed once again, nuzzling into Kurt's neck.
"I love you too," was Kurt's breathy response. Blaine's panic and fear was completely gone as he relaxed in Kurt's arms. They were both safe, and that's all he needed.
