thunder me under
title: thunder me under
summary: blaine doesn't like thunderstorms or the dark -- just his luck that there would be a blackout.
rating: pg
pairing: blainofsky
genre: gen/romance
warnings: n/a
notes: requested by someone on tumblr
Blaine shoved the empty popcorn bowl at Dave, groaning pathetically. "There. Done. I hope you're happy, you peer pressure-r you." Outside, lightning flashed and thunder followed immediately after.
"Uh-huh." Dave set aside the bowl, pulling Blaine a little closer and kissing his forehead. "Really happy." All Dave had said was that someone should finish off the popcorn, and Blaine had taken it as some kind of challenge and eaten the rest on his own.
"Shut up." Blaine snapped, making a face. "I can taste nothing but salt and butter. It's gross."
"Want a drink?" Dave pushed himself up, pausing the movie they were watching from his bed. Blaine nodded and Dave stood up, grabbing the bowl. "Be right back."
"Thanks!" Blaine called, flicking on Dave's bedside lamp before curling himself up around one of Dave's pillows and grinning. Dave smiled, because he had to admit Blaine had him whipped. After all, he knew what Blaine wanted to drink without even asking.
Dave was in the middle of pulling the pop out of the fridge when the lights in the kitchen stuttered off, right along with a huge clap of thunder. Dave froze and waited, but the lights didn't come back on. He sighed in aggravation -- it was just plain inconvenient, really -- until he realized this was definitely an opportunity to cuddle more with his boyfriend, which wasn't something he would be complaining about.
Cheerfully, Dave found two cups and poured their drinks, using the finger-inside-the-glass trick to make sure he didn't overfill them. When that was done he sucked his finger clean, and put the pop away quickly so he wouldn't waste any of the fridge's cold. He was rifling through the kitchen drawers for a flashlight or, even better, candles, when he heard what sounded like his name.
Dave slammed the drawer shut a little louder than he had planned, worry settling across his brow. The only other person home was Blaine, so if someone was talking it had to be him -- was Blaine just making sure Dave was okay? Something about that didn't seem right though, so Dave left their drinks behind and wandered back out into the hall, heading toward the stairs.
There was a small lump clinging to the railing, and a lightning flash revealed it to be Blaine, eyes wide and horrified and mouth twisted.
"Dave?" he asked in a too-shaky tone.
***
Blaine had wiped his hands off on a kleenex, tossed it out, and was officially bored out of his mind. Blaine didn't like thunderstorms as a general rule, not since his parents had left him alone during one when he was a kid, but thunderstorms with nothing to distract him were the worst.
He was getting up to go find Dave when there was a lightning flash, and Blaine cursed. His swear was swallowed up by the loud crack of thunder that followed, so loud Blaine felt it rattle his bones. Then the lights went out.
Blaine's heart jumped up somewhere into his throat and he tried to scream around it, but only a strangled whimper came out. Blaine hated the dark. His dad had taken away his nightlight too soon and Blaine had never gotten over it. To sleep at night he needed to hide under his blankets, as pathetic as it was, with his cellphone in hand. Cellphone. He needed his phone.
He stuck a trembling hand into his pocket but nothing was there. Breath coming quicker, he searched his other pockets with fumbling fingers. His phone wasn't there.
With a panicked noise, Blaine dived back at the bed, sweeping his hands frantically over the covers. No smooth plastic bumped into his fingers though, and he began to hyperventilate. Forcing himself to calm his breathing Blaine shut his eyes, because the dark behind his eyes was better than the dark all around, pressing down on him, grabbing at him, suffocating him --
Blaine rolled off the bed with a small cry, the noise breaking up some of the silence. Once he was on his feet he instinctively headed straight for the door, knowing that the only thing that could make this better would be Dave. Lightning flashed, illuminating the room for just a second before he was plunged back into inky darkness.
It somehow made it worse, the occasional burst of lightning, because it just gave Blaine hope only to steal it away again. Then he stumbled out into the hall and there were no windows for the lightning to show through, and things were even darker. Blaine bit his lip, hands flat against the wall as he nearly tripped his way to the stairs.
"Dave?" Blaine called from the top of the stairs in a pathetically weak voice. Thunder clapped and Blaine knew Dave wouldn't have heard him and his heart, which was beating triple-time, sank. He would have to navigate the stairs in the dark.
Clinging to the banister with one shaky hand, Blaine carefully set his foot down on the first step, then the next, then the next. It wasn't very fast moving, Blaine having to stop every time there was thunder to freeze and cling to the railing. He dimly felt wetness on his cheeks and thought for a wild second that there was rain in the house, but then he realized he was crying. How pathetic -- Dave was probably perfectly calm down there.
Blaine knew from sheer memory alone that he was halfway down the stairs when he called for Dave again, trying to aim between thunder claps. There might have been a noise from the kitchen but Blaine couldn't be sure over the rain slamming into the roof and the loud thunder, the darkness itself muffling like a black cloth wrapped around his head. Blaine forced himself to keep on moving, sniffling slightly as he nearly slipped and banged his elbow and knee against the wall.
It was humiliating, having so much trouble just walking the stairs because it was dark. Blaine freed a hand from his death grip on the railing to swipe at his wet cheeks but more tears kept on coming and he could barely breathe through hitched sobs and the heart pounding in his throat. It felt like each step had the potential to contain something terrible and dangerous and it made Blaine want to just curl up and wait out the storm. He couldn't though -- he needed Dave.
When he reached the bottom step Blaine saw a more solid mass in the darkness, moving toward him. Blaine's heart stopped for a second before lightning flashed and the spill of light from a nearby window revealed Dave's form, only a foot away. "Dave?" Blaine whimpered, trying and failing to keep his voice steady.
"Blaine? What's the matt--" Dave was cut off by Blaine throwing himself at his boyfriend, colliding with Dave's chest and throwing his arms around Dave's neck. Blaine buried his face into Dave's neck, feeling some of his fear-induced tension relaxing as Dave's arms wrapped around him in a comfortingly tight hold. "Blaine?"
"I -- I'm kinda freaking," Blaine said quietly into the junction of Dave's shoulder and neck. He felt eight kinds of pathetic and even if there was light he wouldn't be able to look Dave in the face and see his expression. Just by touching him, chest to chest, Blaine could tell that his boyfriend was unmoved by the darkness. Despite his intentions, more tears spilled at that thought.
Dave pressed a kiss to the side of Blaine's head, rubbing a soothing hand into his lower back. "It's alright, it's cool, don't worry. I'm here."
Blaine took a deep, shuddery breath then exhaled loudly. "I -- can we, can we get some lights?" He couldn't seem to get his words to make sense. They stumbled their way over his fear-heavy tongue and collided on the way out. If Dave hadn't been there, Blaine probably wouldn't have been able to even string a sentence together.
"Yeah, sure." Dave freed one arm so he could dig into his back pocket, pulling out his phone. He hit a button and there was a steady sheen of light, washing over them in a cool glow. Blaine could finally make out more than a few inches past his face and automatically felt himself relax.
"Are you crying?" Dave asked, shocked, and Blaine stiffened again, trying to pull away. Dave kept a tight grip though, expression apologetic. "Sorry. No, let's just ... go to the kitchen. I'm pretty sure I saw candles before I heard you calling."
"Candles sound good." Blaine mumbled, stepping back from Dave so he could wipe his wet face with his sleeve. Dave looked unsure and Blaine felt even worse for putting him through this. "Is my drink ready?" Blaine aimed for a smile and knew it was a little too ragged if Dave's frown was any sign but pushed on, grabbing one of Dave's broad hands in his own and taking the final step off the stairs.
"Yeah." Dave took the hint that Blaine wasn't interested in talking and squeezed his hand tightly, tugging him toward the kitchen. "Candles, drinks ... it'll be romantic."
"Sounds good." Blaine's smile was a little more natural this time and Dave cautiously smiled back, walking hand-in-hand to the kitchen. Blaine made sure to never leave the circle of light coming from the phone, walking so close to Dave that he was sure his boyfriend could still feel the residual shudders dancing along his skin. They were slowing though, and by the time Blaine and Dave were seated across from each other at the kitchen table with three flickering candles in between them Blaine felt relaxed. There was still a fear though, tugging at him and making him worry about what would happen if the candles blew out or Dave's phone died.
"I ..." Blaine trailed off, trying to figure out how to phrase it. When a particularly loud burst of thunder slammed into the house, the words came spilling out. "I really hate the dark." He didn't like to admit it, however obvious it might be to others, but he needed to make sure Dave would keep a light on. The fear was stupid -- hadn't Dave rushed to fix up some candles? -- but Blaine's mind wouldn't rest until he was certain.
"Okay." Dave watched as Blaine fiddled with his drink, then smiled a gorgeous smile that eased Blaine's nervous fidgeting. "Don't worry, I'll always keep the lights on." Blaine sighed in relief, smiling genuinely in return as he took a sip of his pop.
"Thanks." It didn't cover anywhere near enough of the gratitude Blaine was feeling right now, but it was something.
"No problem, really." Dave raised his glass in a little salute, reaching across the table to grab hold of Blaine's hand. "So, wanna play Clue? It'll be creepy as hell under this lighting."
That surprised a laugh out of Blaine. "Well, duh." It looked like things would be okay, raging storm and surrounding darkness and all.
end
summary: blaine doesn't like thunderstorms or the dark -- just his luck that there would be a blackout.
rating: pg
pairing: blainofsky
genre: gen/romance
warnings: n/a
notes: requested by someone on tumblr
Blaine shoved the empty popcorn bowl at Dave, groaning pathetically. "There. Done. I hope you're happy, you peer pressure-r you." Outside, lightning flashed and thunder followed immediately after.
"Uh-huh." Dave set aside the bowl, pulling Blaine a little closer and kissing his forehead. "Really happy." All Dave had said was that someone should finish off the popcorn, and Blaine had taken it as some kind of challenge and eaten the rest on his own.
"Shut up." Blaine snapped, making a face. "I can taste nothing but salt and butter. It's gross."
"Want a drink?" Dave pushed himself up, pausing the movie they were watching from his bed. Blaine nodded and Dave stood up, grabbing the bowl. "Be right back."
"Thanks!" Blaine called, flicking on Dave's bedside lamp before curling himself up around one of Dave's pillows and grinning. Dave smiled, because he had to admit Blaine had him whipped. After all, he knew what Blaine wanted to drink without even asking.
Dave was in the middle of pulling the pop out of the fridge when the lights in the kitchen stuttered off, right along with a huge clap of thunder. Dave froze and waited, but the lights didn't come back on. He sighed in aggravation -- it was just plain inconvenient, really -- until he realized this was definitely an opportunity to cuddle more with his boyfriend, which wasn't something he would be complaining about.
Cheerfully, Dave found two cups and poured their drinks, using the finger-inside-the-glass trick to make sure he didn't overfill them. When that was done he sucked his finger clean, and put the pop away quickly so he wouldn't waste any of the fridge's cold. He was rifling through the kitchen drawers for a flashlight or, even better, candles, when he heard what sounded like his name.
Dave slammed the drawer shut a little louder than he had planned, worry settling across his brow. The only other person home was Blaine, so if someone was talking it had to be him -- was Blaine just making sure Dave was okay? Something about that didn't seem right though, so Dave left their drinks behind and wandered back out into the hall, heading toward the stairs.
There was a small lump clinging to the railing, and a lightning flash revealed it to be Blaine, eyes wide and horrified and mouth twisted.
"Dave?" he asked in a too-shaky tone.
***
Blaine had wiped his hands off on a kleenex, tossed it out, and was officially bored out of his mind. Blaine didn't like thunderstorms as a general rule, not since his parents had left him alone during one when he was a kid, but thunderstorms with nothing to distract him were the worst.
He was getting up to go find Dave when there was a lightning flash, and Blaine cursed. His swear was swallowed up by the loud crack of thunder that followed, so loud Blaine felt it rattle his bones. Then the lights went out.
Blaine's heart jumped up somewhere into his throat and he tried to scream around it, but only a strangled whimper came out. Blaine hated the dark. His dad had taken away his nightlight too soon and Blaine had never gotten over it. To sleep at night he needed to hide under his blankets, as pathetic as it was, with his cellphone in hand. Cellphone. He needed his phone.
He stuck a trembling hand into his pocket but nothing was there. Breath coming quicker, he searched his other pockets with fumbling fingers. His phone wasn't there.
With a panicked noise, Blaine dived back at the bed, sweeping his hands frantically over the covers. No smooth plastic bumped into his fingers though, and he began to hyperventilate. Forcing himself to calm his breathing Blaine shut his eyes, because the dark behind his eyes was better than the dark all around, pressing down on him, grabbing at him, suffocating him --
Blaine rolled off the bed with a small cry, the noise breaking up some of the silence. Once he was on his feet he instinctively headed straight for the door, knowing that the only thing that could make this better would be Dave. Lightning flashed, illuminating the room for just a second before he was plunged back into inky darkness.
It somehow made it worse, the occasional burst of lightning, because it just gave Blaine hope only to steal it away again. Then he stumbled out into the hall and there were no windows for the lightning to show through, and things were even darker. Blaine bit his lip, hands flat against the wall as he nearly tripped his way to the stairs.
"Dave?" Blaine called from the top of the stairs in a pathetically weak voice. Thunder clapped and Blaine knew Dave wouldn't have heard him and his heart, which was beating triple-time, sank. He would have to navigate the stairs in the dark.
Clinging to the banister with one shaky hand, Blaine carefully set his foot down on the first step, then the next, then the next. It wasn't very fast moving, Blaine having to stop every time there was thunder to freeze and cling to the railing. He dimly felt wetness on his cheeks and thought for a wild second that there was rain in the house, but then he realized he was crying. How pathetic -- Dave was probably perfectly calm down there.
Blaine knew from sheer memory alone that he was halfway down the stairs when he called for Dave again, trying to aim between thunder claps. There might have been a noise from the kitchen but Blaine couldn't be sure over the rain slamming into the roof and the loud thunder, the darkness itself muffling like a black cloth wrapped around his head. Blaine forced himself to keep on moving, sniffling slightly as he nearly slipped and banged his elbow and knee against the wall.
It was humiliating, having so much trouble just walking the stairs because it was dark. Blaine freed a hand from his death grip on the railing to swipe at his wet cheeks but more tears kept on coming and he could barely breathe through hitched sobs and the heart pounding in his throat. It felt like each step had the potential to contain something terrible and dangerous and it made Blaine want to just curl up and wait out the storm. He couldn't though -- he needed Dave.
When he reached the bottom step Blaine saw a more solid mass in the darkness, moving toward him. Blaine's heart stopped for a second before lightning flashed and the spill of light from a nearby window revealed Dave's form, only a foot away. "Dave?" Blaine whimpered, trying and failing to keep his voice steady.
"Blaine? What's the matt--" Dave was cut off by Blaine throwing himself at his boyfriend, colliding with Dave's chest and throwing his arms around Dave's neck. Blaine buried his face into Dave's neck, feeling some of his fear-induced tension relaxing as Dave's arms wrapped around him in a comfortingly tight hold. "Blaine?"
"I -- I'm kinda freaking," Blaine said quietly into the junction of Dave's shoulder and neck. He felt eight kinds of pathetic and even if there was light he wouldn't be able to look Dave in the face and see his expression. Just by touching him, chest to chest, Blaine could tell that his boyfriend was unmoved by the darkness. Despite his intentions, more tears spilled at that thought.
Dave pressed a kiss to the side of Blaine's head, rubbing a soothing hand into his lower back. "It's alright, it's cool, don't worry. I'm here."
Blaine took a deep, shuddery breath then exhaled loudly. "I -- can we, can we get some lights?" He couldn't seem to get his words to make sense. They stumbled their way over his fear-heavy tongue and collided on the way out. If Dave hadn't been there, Blaine probably wouldn't have been able to even string a sentence together.
"Yeah, sure." Dave freed one arm so he could dig into his back pocket, pulling out his phone. He hit a button and there was a steady sheen of light, washing over them in a cool glow. Blaine could finally make out more than a few inches past his face and automatically felt himself relax.
"Are you crying?" Dave asked, shocked, and Blaine stiffened again, trying to pull away. Dave kept a tight grip though, expression apologetic. "Sorry. No, let's just ... go to the kitchen. I'm pretty sure I saw candles before I heard you calling."
"Candles sound good." Blaine mumbled, stepping back from Dave so he could wipe his wet face with his sleeve. Dave looked unsure and Blaine felt even worse for putting him through this. "Is my drink ready?" Blaine aimed for a smile and knew it was a little too ragged if Dave's frown was any sign but pushed on, grabbing one of Dave's broad hands in his own and taking the final step off the stairs.
"Yeah." Dave took the hint that Blaine wasn't interested in talking and squeezed his hand tightly, tugging him toward the kitchen. "Candles, drinks ... it'll be romantic."
"Sounds good." Blaine's smile was a little more natural this time and Dave cautiously smiled back, walking hand-in-hand to the kitchen. Blaine made sure to never leave the circle of light coming from the phone, walking so close to Dave that he was sure his boyfriend could still feel the residual shudders dancing along his skin. They were slowing though, and by the time Blaine and Dave were seated across from each other at the kitchen table with three flickering candles in between them Blaine felt relaxed. There was still a fear though, tugging at him and making him worry about what would happen if the candles blew out or Dave's phone died.
"I ..." Blaine trailed off, trying to figure out how to phrase it. When a particularly loud burst of thunder slammed into the house, the words came spilling out. "I really hate the dark." He didn't like to admit it, however obvious it might be to others, but he needed to make sure Dave would keep a light on. The fear was stupid -- hadn't Dave rushed to fix up some candles? -- but Blaine's mind wouldn't rest until he was certain.
"Okay." Dave watched as Blaine fiddled with his drink, then smiled a gorgeous smile that eased Blaine's nervous fidgeting. "Don't worry, I'll always keep the lights on." Blaine sighed in relief, smiling genuinely in return as he took a sip of his pop.
"Thanks." It didn't cover anywhere near enough of the gratitude Blaine was feeling right now, but it was something.
"No problem, really." Dave raised his glass in a little salute, reaching across the table to grab hold of Blaine's hand. "So, wanna play Clue? It'll be creepy as hell under this lighting."
That surprised a laugh out of Blaine. "Well, duh." It looked like things would be okay, raging storm and surrounding darkness and all.
end