FIC: Eyes Ahead
Series: No Day But Today
Title: Eyes Ahead
Pair: Klaine, of course, and... others
Word Count: 912
Summary:Rafe gets some help in the kitchen.
FYI: This is set earlier, post Vistations, Reunions, and Preferred Weaponry and Pre-AGPD while they were still in the refugee housing.
“You! Change your mind! Like a girl! Changes clothes!”
“Stop that,” Rafe ordered Blaine’s irritating friend. “I hate Katy Perry. I hope she’s rotting on the highway or trapped in a basement drinking her own pee.”
“Ohh!” Nick made a pearl clutching motion. “That’s dark.”
Rafe watched the raven-haired boy who had followed him into the kitchen. He didn’t know why he’d snapped at him. Aside from Katy Perry, of course, which in itself was totally justifiable.
Aside from being attached to Blaine and David, Nick was a solitary player, as near as Rafe could tell. He was of average height, shorter than Rafe when he was wearing his leg and standing, and his features were distinct, if not handsome. His nose at times seemed too big for his face, at others it seemed to suit him. And what really bothered Rafe was the way something in his lips that seemed to mock, to bite. Like sarcasm had been injected into them the way some would inject botox.
Without another word, Rafe turned on the oven and hobbled to the fridge to see what was there besides the ration of meat they were to have for dinner. He wanted to be useful. It was strange, being out of the hospital, around normals. People who hadn’t been forced to buzz off their own leg, or cut themselves nearly to the bone with the first scalpel he’d gotten his hands on. He wondered if there was room for him in a house full of people who weren’t marked by damage.
“Oh!” Nick swooped in just as Rafe lost his balance on his leg. “Careful.”
“I don’t need your help, hairgel. I just stumbled. That’s all.”
Nick’s lips curved even further. “No, you need your cane.”
“I... Well.” Rafe rolled his eyes to prevent the embarrassment from flooding his cheeks. “Whatever.”
Nick left the room. Rafe breathed a sigh of relief and leaned against the counter.
“Here,” Nick said as he returned. “I can see forgetting the cane. It’s not like the leg, attached to you.”
“Yeah.”
“Hey. Um.” Nick looked over the supplies Rafe had taken out. “Can I help? I had KP duty all the time at Dalton. That’s the... uh, private school where-”
“I got the 411 on that utterly complex concept.” Rafe arched a brow. “KP duty? The big fluffy private school hard on you poor boys?”
“You bet!” Nick laughed. “Only I’m not exactly a badass. You got KP duty for not having your uniform ironed... or turning in homework late.”
“Truly death-defying,” Rafe replied. He pulled out the cutting board. “I’m not exactly a cook myself. I just... I want to feel like... I matter. I’m not exactly a planner. Or a fighter.”
“I don’t believe that last one.” Nick moved to the cutting board, rolled up his sleeves over slender but well-shaped forearms, and began to chop carrots.
“Believe what you like.” Rafe crossed his arms and licked his lips.
“Oh. I will.”
Rafe looked up as Kurt came into the kitchen. His hair was in disarray, and he still looked pale, with a softness to his cheek and silhouette that brought the little newborn to mind, even when she wasn’t attached to him.
“Honey! What are you doing down here?” Rafe moved to his side, careful not to lose his balance. His heart beat wildly at the thought of Kurt falling, or relapsing in any way.
“Just getting some water and moving around a little,” Kurt said. His hand touched Rafe’s arm, as though reaching for momentary strength. Then he went to the sink and got himself a glass.
“The Peanut with Blaine?” Nick asked.
“Napping,” Kurt confirmed. He yawned and leaned on the counter as he sipped his water. His eyes moved over the vegetables and meat on the counter. “Can I help?”
Rafe frowned. “No, hon. We got it. Why don’t you go back upstairs?”
“I hear from your mother that your kitchen adventures are legendary. And by that I mean, illuminated by fire,” Kurt replied dryly, the glass at his lips.
Nick threw his head back and laughed.
“Oh, shut it, mommy.” Rafe came over and took Kurt’s arm. “We’ll do just fine, Nick and me.”
“Let ‘im have a seat. He’s probably getting bored up in that room,” Nick suggested.
“I am, but...” Kurt sighed. “I just don’t want to be away from her for that long. I’m still getting used to...” He shrugged almost apologetically. Like he didn’t know why he was down here. His eyes were growing anxious.
“Well, Pippy can come watch,” Nick suggested. He looked over his shoulder. “Yeah? Bring her down.”
Kurt seemed to think it over. “Maybe later. Thanks, though.”
After he’d departed, Rafe crossed his arms and stared at the door after Kurt.
“Bless his post-partum heart,” he murmured.
“You think he’s depressed?” Nick set a pot on the stove and scooped in the carrots.
“I would be. If I’d just brought a baby into this world.” Rafe moved back over to the counter. “Okay. How do I not blow this place up?”
His eyes drifted back toward the door. Nick’s chuckle brought his attention back.
“Maybe keep your eyes ahead, hoppy. Don’t want to lose anymore limbs, huh?”
“You watch it, beaky.” Rafe brushed the tip of Nick’s nose with a basting brush for effect.
Nick howled with amusement.
Next Part: AGPD
This entry was originally posted at Dreamwidth.
comments posted there. Please comment there using OpenID or your DW account.
Title: Eyes Ahead
Pair: Klaine, of course, and... others
Word Count: 912
Summary:Rafe gets some help in the kitchen.
FYI: This is set earlier, post Vistations, Reunions, and Preferred Weaponry and Pre-AGPD while they were still in the refugee housing.
“You! Change your mind! Like a girl! Changes clothes!”
“Stop that,” Rafe ordered Blaine’s irritating friend. “I hate Katy Perry. I hope she’s rotting on the highway or trapped in a basement drinking her own pee.”
“Ohh!” Nick made a pearl clutching motion. “That’s dark.”
Rafe watched the raven-haired boy who had followed him into the kitchen. He didn’t know why he’d snapped at him. Aside from Katy Perry, of course, which in itself was totally justifiable.
Aside from being attached to Blaine and David, Nick was a solitary player, as near as Rafe could tell. He was of average height, shorter than Rafe when he was wearing his leg and standing, and his features were distinct, if not handsome. His nose at times seemed too big for his face, at others it seemed to suit him. And what really bothered Rafe was the way something in his lips that seemed to mock, to bite. Like sarcasm had been injected into them the way some would inject botox.
Without another word, Rafe turned on the oven and hobbled to the fridge to see what was there besides the ration of meat they were to have for dinner. He wanted to be useful. It was strange, being out of the hospital, around normals. People who hadn’t been forced to buzz off their own leg, or cut themselves nearly to the bone with the first scalpel he’d gotten his hands on. He wondered if there was room for him in a house full of people who weren’t marked by damage.
“Oh!” Nick swooped in just as Rafe lost his balance on his leg. “Careful.”
“I don’t need your help, hairgel. I just stumbled. That’s all.”
Nick’s lips curved even further. “No, you need your cane.”
“I... Well.” Rafe rolled his eyes to prevent the embarrassment from flooding his cheeks. “Whatever.”
Nick left the room. Rafe breathed a sigh of relief and leaned against the counter.
“Here,” Nick said as he returned. “I can see forgetting the cane. It’s not like the leg, attached to you.”
“Yeah.”
“Hey. Um.” Nick looked over the supplies Rafe had taken out. “Can I help? I had KP duty all the time at Dalton. That’s the... uh, private school where-”
“I got the 411 on that utterly complex concept.” Rafe arched a brow. “KP duty? The big fluffy private school hard on you poor boys?”
“You bet!” Nick laughed. “Only I’m not exactly a badass. You got KP duty for not having your uniform ironed... or turning in homework late.”
“Truly death-defying,” Rafe replied. He pulled out the cutting board. “I’m not exactly a cook myself. I just... I want to feel like... I matter. I’m not exactly a planner. Or a fighter.”
“I don’t believe that last one.” Nick moved to the cutting board, rolled up his sleeves over slender but well-shaped forearms, and began to chop carrots.
“Believe what you like.” Rafe crossed his arms and licked his lips.
“Oh. I will.”
Rafe looked up as Kurt came into the kitchen. His hair was in disarray, and he still looked pale, with a softness to his cheek and silhouette that brought the little newborn to mind, even when she wasn’t attached to him.
“Honey! What are you doing down here?” Rafe moved to his side, careful not to lose his balance. His heart beat wildly at the thought of Kurt falling, or relapsing in any way.
“Just getting some water and moving around a little,” Kurt said. His hand touched Rafe’s arm, as though reaching for momentary strength. Then he went to the sink and got himself a glass.
“The Peanut with Blaine?” Nick asked.
“Napping,” Kurt confirmed. He yawned and leaned on the counter as he sipped his water. His eyes moved over the vegetables and meat on the counter. “Can I help?”
Rafe frowned. “No, hon. We got it. Why don’t you go back upstairs?”
“I hear from your mother that your kitchen adventures are legendary. And by that I mean, illuminated by fire,” Kurt replied dryly, the glass at his lips.
Nick threw his head back and laughed.
“Oh, shut it, mommy.” Rafe came over and took Kurt’s arm. “We’ll do just fine, Nick and me.”
“Let ‘im have a seat. He’s probably getting bored up in that room,” Nick suggested.
“I am, but...” Kurt sighed. “I just don’t want to be away from her for that long. I’m still getting used to...” He shrugged almost apologetically. Like he didn’t know why he was down here. His eyes were growing anxious.
“Well, Pippy can come watch,” Nick suggested. He looked over his shoulder. “Yeah? Bring her down.”
Kurt seemed to think it over. “Maybe later. Thanks, though.”
After he’d departed, Rafe crossed his arms and stared at the door after Kurt.
“Bless his post-partum heart,” he murmured.
“You think he’s depressed?” Nick set a pot on the stove and scooped in the carrots.
“I would be. If I’d just brought a baby into this world.” Rafe moved back over to the counter. “Okay. How do I not blow this place up?”
His eyes drifted back toward the door. Nick’s chuckle brought his attention back.
“Maybe keep your eyes ahead, hoppy. Don’t want to lose anymore limbs, huh?”
“You watch it, beaky.” Rafe brushed the tip of Nick’s nose with a basting brush for effect.
Nick howled with amusement.
Next Part: AGPD
This entry was originally posted at Dreamwidth.
comments posted there. Please comment there using OpenID or your DW account.