Hugs
Title: Hugs
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,100
Summary: Kurt and Blaine spending the summer three hours apart means a lot of e-mail and a lot of virtual hugs
Notes: Written in September as a birthday gift for , who said she would like fluff and hugs. :) Does not follow canon for season three.
To: kurtincall@silvermail.com
From: warblerblaine@columbusnet.com
Subject: Miss You
Dear Kurt,
Are you as ready for the summer to be over as I am? No offense to my grandmother, but if I have to listen to her ask me one more time when I'm going to bring a nice girl to meet her, I think I'm going to scream. It's not like I haven't told her about you, because I have. She just doesn't get it, I guess. She says it's nice I have such a handsome friend, then suggests we find a couple of nice girls for a double-date. I think we might have to do that, if Santana ever finds someone.
Just two more weeks, and I'll be back in Ohio. I used to love spending August here in Chicago, but this summer, all I've been able to think about is how long until I can hold you again. How long until you can hold me. Two weeks still feels too long.
How are things back home?
(hug)
Blaine
---
To: warblerblaine@columbusnet.com
From: kurtincall@silvermail.com
Subject: Ten Days
Dear Blaine,
Lima is as exciting as always, which is to say it's not. Not without you here. On Monday, Finn and Rachel got caught doing things I'd rather not think about, and all I could think about was the night before you left for Chicago. I know most people would roll their eyes if I told them that we spent hours just holding one another and talking, but you aren't most people.
My pillow doesn't smell like you anymore. It's harder to sleep, now. Could you send me a new case as an attachment? My complexion is starting to suffer, and I'd prefer to look my best when you return.
As always,
Your Kurt
---
To: kurtincall@silvermail.com
From: warblerblaine@columbusnet.com
Subject: Getting closer
Dear Kurt,
Forgive me for not attaching a pillowcase. My grandmother doesn't have a scanner. Even if she did, I think her taste in linens might make you faint. The sheets in my room are the color of mustard. Mustard, Kurt. I keep having dreams of being a corn dog. Why can't they be covered with flowers, or something? Aren't grandmothers supposed to like that sort of thing?
Since you brought up pillows first, I guess it's safe for me to say that every night, I hug one and pretend it's you. It's not a very good substitute, but it gives me something to do with my arms. They feel so empty, without you in them.
Soon, Kurt. Soon.
(hugs)
Blaine
---
To: warblerblaine@columbusnet.com
From: kurtincall@silvermail.com
Subject: I am sixteen, going on seventeen
Dear Blaine,
It's my last night as a sixteen year old. Yay? Everyone seems to think I should be more excited, but what makes being seventeen any different from being sixteen? You don't get any new rights. No one sees you as more of an adult, either. Over tonight's dinner, I asked Dad if I could have my curfew extended by another hour. He laughed so hard, you'd have thought he was watching a 'Three Stooges' marathon. Call me crazy, but I think that means "no."
As unexcited as I am about my birthday, I know what my birthday wish would be. You get three guesses, and the first two don't count.
As always,
Your Kurt
---
Kurt shut his laptop with a sigh and changed into his pajamas. He wasn't really tired, but it was after eleven, and he couldn’t think of any reason to stay up any later than he already had. Besides, if he got into the habit of staying up too late, it might make readjusting to school even harder.
"Kurt?" his dad's voice came from downstairs.
"Yeah, Dad?" Kurt answered, getting up and padding down the stairs in his bare feet.
"Got an early birthday present for you," his dad called. "Think you'll want to see it before you go to bed."
"It's fine, really," Kurt said, turning into the living room. "It can wait, I'm sure."
"No," a different voice said. "I really can't." Kurt's eyes flew around the room, finally resting on the familiar sight of Blaine standing near the door, knapsack over one shoulder. "I talked my parents into letting me come home early," Blaine smiled. "I couldn't miss your birthday."
Before Kurt could think of anything to say, Burt got up from the couch and placed a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "It's late. Blaine's probably tired from his drive, so you boys should get to bed. You can have all of tomorrow to go out and have fun."
"Of course," Kurt said, feeling slightly disappointed at having Blaine appear, only to be told they both had to go to bed. "I'll get the sofabed ready for him. No mustard, I promise."
Blaine grinned, but Burt just looked confused. He paused for a second, then shook his head. "Don't worry about the sofabed," he said. "I got some figures to go over for the shop. Think it'll keep me up for a while. Go ahead and take Blaine on up to your room, Kurt. Just keep the door open, okay? No funny business. I'm trusting both of you."
Kurt and Blaine exchanged surprised smiles, and Blaine extended an arm to shake Burt's hand. "We'll be on our best behavior, Mister Hummel. You have my word."
"Yeah, well, I'd better," Burt huffed, doing his best not to let the smile threatening to break his gruff expression show. "If you don't, I'll have your ass."
Kurt refrained from making a joke that was sure to change his dad's mind, then took Blaine's hand and dragged him up the stairs. He sped through his nightly moisturizing routine while Blaine changed in the bathroom, then knocked on the door. They brushed their teeth, side by side, each giggling a little when they caught their shared reflection in the mirror.
"Do you have a favorite side of the bed?" Kurt asked shyly, once they were back in his room and he'd turned down the sheets.
"Yeah," Blaine said, stepping behind Kurt and wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist. "Whichever one is closest to you."
Kurt leaned back, smiling as he felt Blaine's chin hook over his shoulder. "That's funny," he murmured, "because I think that's my favorite, too."
Once they were snuggled beneath the covers, Blaine pressed a kiss to Kurt's lips and pulled him close. "Happy birthday," he said, pointing to the bedside clock. "Make a wish."
"I don't have to," Kurt sighed happily, wrapping his arms around Blaine and burying his face in his neck. "It already came true."
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Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,100
Summary: Kurt and Blaine spending the summer three hours apart means a lot of e-mail and a lot of virtual hugs
Notes: Written in September as a birthday gift for , who said she would like fluff and hugs. :) Does not follow canon for season three.
To: kurtincall@silvermail.com
From: warblerblaine@columbusnet.com
Subject: Miss You
Dear Kurt,
Are you as ready for the summer to be over as I am? No offense to my grandmother, but if I have to listen to her ask me one more time when I'm going to bring a nice girl to meet her, I think I'm going to scream. It's not like I haven't told her about you, because I have. She just doesn't get it, I guess. She says it's nice I have such a handsome friend, then suggests we find a couple of nice girls for a double-date. I think we might have to do that, if Santana ever finds someone.
Just two more weeks, and I'll be back in Ohio. I used to love spending August here in Chicago, but this summer, all I've been able to think about is how long until I can hold you again. How long until you can hold me. Two weeks still feels too long.
How are things back home?
(hug)
Blaine
---
To: warblerblaine@columbusnet.com
From: kurtincall@silvermail.com
Subject: Ten Days
Dear Blaine,
Lima is as exciting as always, which is to say it's not. Not without you here. On Monday, Finn and Rachel got caught doing things I'd rather not think about, and all I could think about was the night before you left for Chicago. I know most people would roll their eyes if I told them that we spent hours just holding one another and talking, but you aren't most people.
My pillow doesn't smell like you anymore. It's harder to sleep, now. Could you send me a new case as an attachment? My complexion is starting to suffer, and I'd prefer to look my best when you return.
As always,
Your Kurt
---
To: kurtincall@silvermail.com
From: warblerblaine@columbusnet.com
Subject: Getting closer
Dear Kurt,
Forgive me for not attaching a pillowcase. My grandmother doesn't have a scanner. Even if she did, I think her taste in linens might make you faint. The sheets in my room are the color of mustard. Mustard, Kurt. I keep having dreams of being a corn dog. Why can't they be covered with flowers, or something? Aren't grandmothers supposed to like that sort of thing?
Since you brought up pillows first, I guess it's safe for me to say that every night, I hug one and pretend it's you. It's not a very good substitute, but it gives me something to do with my arms. They feel so empty, without you in them.
Soon, Kurt. Soon.
(hugs)
Blaine
---
To: warblerblaine@columbusnet.com
From: kurtincall@silvermail.com
Subject: I am sixteen, going on seventeen
Dear Blaine,
It's my last night as a sixteen year old. Yay? Everyone seems to think I should be more excited, but what makes being seventeen any different from being sixteen? You don't get any new rights. No one sees you as more of an adult, either. Over tonight's dinner, I asked Dad if I could have my curfew extended by another hour. He laughed so hard, you'd have thought he was watching a 'Three Stooges' marathon. Call me crazy, but I think that means "no."
As unexcited as I am about my birthday, I know what my birthday wish would be. You get three guesses, and the first two don't count.
As always,
Your Kurt
---
Kurt shut his laptop with a sigh and changed into his pajamas. He wasn't really tired, but it was after eleven, and he couldn’t think of any reason to stay up any later than he already had. Besides, if he got into the habit of staying up too late, it might make readjusting to school even harder.
"Kurt?" his dad's voice came from downstairs.
"Yeah, Dad?" Kurt answered, getting up and padding down the stairs in his bare feet.
"Got an early birthday present for you," his dad called. "Think you'll want to see it before you go to bed."
"It's fine, really," Kurt said, turning into the living room. "It can wait, I'm sure."
"No," a different voice said. "I really can't." Kurt's eyes flew around the room, finally resting on the familiar sight of Blaine standing near the door, knapsack over one shoulder. "I talked my parents into letting me come home early," Blaine smiled. "I couldn't miss your birthday."
Before Kurt could think of anything to say, Burt got up from the couch and placed a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "It's late. Blaine's probably tired from his drive, so you boys should get to bed. You can have all of tomorrow to go out and have fun."
"Of course," Kurt said, feeling slightly disappointed at having Blaine appear, only to be told they both had to go to bed. "I'll get the sofabed ready for him. No mustard, I promise."
Blaine grinned, but Burt just looked confused. He paused for a second, then shook his head. "Don't worry about the sofabed," he said. "I got some figures to go over for the shop. Think it'll keep me up for a while. Go ahead and take Blaine on up to your room, Kurt. Just keep the door open, okay? No funny business. I'm trusting both of you."
Kurt and Blaine exchanged surprised smiles, and Blaine extended an arm to shake Burt's hand. "We'll be on our best behavior, Mister Hummel. You have my word."
"Yeah, well, I'd better," Burt huffed, doing his best not to let the smile threatening to break his gruff expression show. "If you don't, I'll have your ass."
Kurt refrained from making a joke that was sure to change his dad's mind, then took Blaine's hand and dragged him up the stairs. He sped through his nightly moisturizing routine while Blaine changed in the bathroom, then knocked on the door. They brushed their teeth, side by side, each giggling a little when they caught their shared reflection in the mirror.
"Do you have a favorite side of the bed?" Kurt asked shyly, once they were back in his room and he'd turned down the sheets.
"Yeah," Blaine said, stepping behind Kurt and wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist. "Whichever one is closest to you."
Kurt leaned back, smiling as he felt Blaine's chin hook over his shoulder. "That's funny," he murmured, "because I think that's my favorite, too."
Once they were snuggled beneath the covers, Blaine pressed a kiss to Kurt's lips and pulled him close. "Happy birthday," he said, pointing to the bedside clock. "Make a wish."
"I don't have to," Kurt sighed happily, wrapping his arms around Blaine and burying his face in his neck. "It already came true."
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