Fic: Electrical Euphoria
Title: Electrical Euphoria
Genre: Angst, romance.
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: for errbody!
Spoilers: none.
Disclaimer: If I owned anything, would I be writing fanfiction?
Summary: Kurt reminisces on New Year's with his mother with Blaine, but realizes this is just as well. Drabble.
A/N: My first writing in a while, let me know what you think!
Watching the ball drop was an awing experience.
Since he had been a child, his mother had turned on the television to the magical New York City, where more people than his tiny fingers could count were gathered to watched the bright, glowing sphere drop to announce the new year. It was the one time of the year he got to stay up past his bedtime, and she gave him a plastic flute of sparkling cider. He had known that one day, he wanted to see it in person. Hear the far-too-loud excitement that kept his dad yelling, "Elizabeth, turn that thing down!" while he attempted to pull her lemon meringue pie out of the oven, up close and in all its mystical glory. Oh, and how she had laughed; from the champagne, from his dad, from Kurt's pleading, "Mama, can we go there next year, please?!"
After she died, the affair was smaller. Cider, microwaved pie from Judi's, and straight to bed afterwards. It never lost its mysticism.
For New Year's this year, it was going to be a raucous affair; the glee club was going to gather, some of the guys from the shop, some of Carole's friends from work, and squeeze together into the living room to watch the grand ball drop. Kurt was in the kitchen, making his mother's famous pie (two of them, to be precise) and setting up the glasses for the ball drop.
He was pulling out some more plastic flutes (he hated them, but his friends really couldn't be trusted), when an icy set of arms wrapped around his waist. He laughed, turning in for a kiss as the chilly fingers grasped at his apron. "Who let you in?"
"Finn. But he didn't seem too excited about it, because he was afraid I was going to make you burn some pies you were baking." Blaine said in half-seriousness; he could easily be a challenger to Finn in an eating contest on a good day. Kurt gave him a face of mock horror, stepping away from his embrace.
"These are not just any pies, Blaine Anderson. These are my mother's special, euphoria-inducing lemon meringue pies. At the school auction in the first grade, these pies came in for most over a day with llamas. Llamas, Blaine." He paused for emphasis, picking up his wooden spoon and vaguely pointing. "The most exotic animal we have here is the cat with half a tail and missing an eye owned by loopy Mrs. Van Hassel."
"Point taken. Elizabeth Hummel's pie is magic." Blaine declared, putting his hands in front of his chest in defeat.
"I'm pretty sure I thought it could cure all ills when I was little."
The kitchen grew silent, Kurt stepping to gracefully take off his apron, Blaine unsure of the proper response to the remark. "If it can save an elementary playground, that's pretty impressive, right?" He attempted, moving towards Kurt, whose head was tucked down as he leaned against the counter. Blaine put a hand on his boyfriend's back, who looked up.
"New Year's is just full of memories. All holidays are. She's more of a feeling than an actual person now...but...she was the one that said I'd get to see the ball drop in person one day if I only wanted it enough, and that she and my dad would be right there beside me." Kurt went launched in for a full-on hug, Blaine wrapping his arms around him. Blaine could hear Kurt's voice clench up a bit, "And now it's so close and I know she won't be there with me to see it." Blaine wanted to reassure him, yes, she will, like so many people said to help the living continue, but he knew what Kurt believed and that it was the last thing he needed to hear.
Blaine kissed him on the forehead. "But you will have so many other people with you, Kurt, including me, and seeing you with the people who love you and make you happy is what she would have wanted."
Kurt gave Blaine a watery smile, clenching him tightly again, murmuring, "What did I ever do to deserve you."
"Being here."
Later that evening
"Kurt, I could kill you for making such a good pie. Who knew pie could taste this good?" Puck exclaimed, causing a small chuckle from Kurt. Kurt's arm was around Blaine's waist; not in need of support, but in comfort.
"Nothing could be good enough to be worth losing abs for, man." Sam shook his head, causing a thwack from Mercedes, which earned another chortle from everyone.
"Anything he makes is, trust me." Finn insisted, and the boys then got into a large discussion about how heavenly it was possible for a pastry to be. Kurt shook his head as Blaine was quick to jump into the conversation in large seriousness. Some of his counter-parts, however, seemed to be out of character. He figured some of them had slipped some champagne in their glasses "on accident," but left them be in the spirit of the holiday.
"Guys! You're going to miss the ball drop!" Rachel cried from the sofa in the living room. Kurt slid over to her, who took her hand.
She slyly commented, "Imagine, we're going to be seeing that in person next year!"
"Rachel, we're going to be home over the holiday." He rolled his eyes as he made room for Blaine, but as a mildly tipsy-looking Tina took the seat instead, he stood up.
The yelling began. "TEN...NINE...EIGHT...SEVEN..." Everyone looked around for their respective partners. Blaine smiled at him, squeezing his hand. He leaned in for the kiss prematurely, unable to contain himself. He had a man who cared about him enough to listen to him get sentimental about pies, who would travel anywhere in the world to be with him, and cared about his happiness. That was enough for him. His kiss was happily returned. There was a small shout of, "Hey, you're not supposed to kiss yet!" That was hushed as everyone counted down. He deepened the kiss, smiling, just as the television screamed, "Happy New Year!" and there were the sounds of smooching around them.
"Happy New Year, Kurt." Blaine said softly, leaning his forehead against Kurt's.
"Happy New Year to you too." He replied, unable to resist another peck. He heard noises and whooping, and glancing at his dad and Carole cuddled together amongst the crowd, he was okay. He was more than okay. Maybe he could see himself doing this in the frosty air and flashing lights with a certain male who was beside him, rain check on the pie; or he wished his mother was still beside him to celebrate, prodding him in the side that he needed to eat more of his favorite dessert; but this was beyond amazing too.
Genre: Angst, romance.
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: for errbody!
Spoilers: none.
Disclaimer: If I owned anything, would I be writing fanfiction?
Summary: Kurt reminisces on New Year's with his mother with Blaine, but realizes this is just as well. Drabble.
A/N: My first writing in a while, let me know what you think!
Watching the ball drop was an awing experience.
Since he had been a child, his mother had turned on the television to the magical New York City, where more people than his tiny fingers could count were gathered to watched the bright, glowing sphere drop to announce the new year. It was the one time of the year he got to stay up past his bedtime, and she gave him a plastic flute of sparkling cider. He had known that one day, he wanted to see it in person. Hear the far-too-loud excitement that kept his dad yelling, "Elizabeth, turn that thing down!" while he attempted to pull her lemon meringue pie out of the oven, up close and in all its mystical glory. Oh, and how she had laughed; from the champagne, from his dad, from Kurt's pleading, "Mama, can we go there next year, please?!"
After she died, the affair was smaller. Cider, microwaved pie from Judi's, and straight to bed afterwards. It never lost its mysticism.
For New Year's this year, it was going to be a raucous affair; the glee club was going to gather, some of the guys from the shop, some of Carole's friends from work, and squeeze together into the living room to watch the grand ball drop. Kurt was in the kitchen, making his mother's famous pie (two of them, to be precise) and setting up the glasses for the ball drop.
He was pulling out some more plastic flutes (he hated them, but his friends really couldn't be trusted), when an icy set of arms wrapped around his waist. He laughed, turning in for a kiss as the chilly fingers grasped at his apron. "Who let you in?"
"Finn. But he didn't seem too excited about it, because he was afraid I was going to make you burn some pies you were baking." Blaine said in half-seriousness; he could easily be a challenger to Finn in an eating contest on a good day. Kurt gave him a face of mock horror, stepping away from his embrace.
"These are not just any pies, Blaine Anderson. These are my mother's special, euphoria-inducing lemon meringue pies. At the school auction in the first grade, these pies came in for most over a day with llamas. Llamas, Blaine." He paused for emphasis, picking up his wooden spoon and vaguely pointing. "The most exotic animal we have here is the cat with half a tail and missing an eye owned by loopy Mrs. Van Hassel."
"Point taken. Elizabeth Hummel's pie is magic." Blaine declared, putting his hands in front of his chest in defeat.
"I'm pretty sure I thought it could cure all ills when I was little."
The kitchen grew silent, Kurt stepping to gracefully take off his apron, Blaine unsure of the proper response to the remark. "If it can save an elementary playground, that's pretty impressive, right?" He attempted, moving towards Kurt, whose head was tucked down as he leaned against the counter. Blaine put a hand on his boyfriend's back, who looked up.
"New Year's is just full of memories. All holidays are. She's more of a feeling than an actual person now...but...she was the one that said I'd get to see the ball drop in person one day if I only wanted it enough, and that she and my dad would be right there beside me." Kurt went launched in for a full-on hug, Blaine wrapping his arms around him. Blaine could hear Kurt's voice clench up a bit, "And now it's so close and I know she won't be there with me to see it." Blaine wanted to reassure him, yes, she will, like so many people said to help the living continue, but he knew what Kurt believed and that it was the last thing he needed to hear.
Blaine kissed him on the forehead. "But you will have so many other people with you, Kurt, including me, and seeing you with the people who love you and make you happy is what she would have wanted."
Kurt gave Blaine a watery smile, clenching him tightly again, murmuring, "What did I ever do to deserve you."
"Being here."
Later that evening
"Kurt, I could kill you for making such a good pie. Who knew pie could taste this good?" Puck exclaimed, causing a small chuckle from Kurt. Kurt's arm was around Blaine's waist; not in need of support, but in comfort.
"Nothing could be good enough to be worth losing abs for, man." Sam shook his head, causing a thwack from Mercedes, which earned another chortle from everyone.
"Anything he makes is, trust me." Finn insisted, and the boys then got into a large discussion about how heavenly it was possible for a pastry to be. Kurt shook his head as Blaine was quick to jump into the conversation in large seriousness. Some of his counter-parts, however, seemed to be out of character. He figured some of them had slipped some champagne in their glasses "on accident," but left them be in the spirit of the holiday.
"Guys! You're going to miss the ball drop!" Rachel cried from the sofa in the living room. Kurt slid over to her, who took her hand.
She slyly commented, "Imagine, we're going to be seeing that in person next year!"
"Rachel, we're going to be home over the holiday." He rolled his eyes as he made room for Blaine, but as a mildly tipsy-looking Tina took the seat instead, he stood up.
The yelling began. "TEN...NINE...EIGHT...SEVEN..." Everyone looked around for their respective partners. Blaine smiled at him, squeezing his hand. He leaned in for the kiss prematurely, unable to contain himself. He had a man who cared about him enough to listen to him get sentimental about pies, who would travel anywhere in the world to be with him, and cared about his happiness. That was enough for him. His kiss was happily returned. There was a small shout of, "Hey, you're not supposed to kiss yet!" That was hushed as everyone counted down. He deepened the kiss, smiling, just as the television screamed, "Happy New Year!" and there were the sounds of smooching around them.
"Happy New Year, Kurt." Blaine said softly, leaning his forehead against Kurt's.
"Happy New Year to you too." He replied, unable to resist another peck. He heard noises and whooping, and glancing at his dad and Carole cuddled together amongst the crowd, he was okay. He was more than okay. Maybe he could see himself doing this in the frosty air and flashing lights with a certain male who was beside him, rain check on the pie; or he wished his mother was still beside him to celebrate, prodding him in the side that he needed to eat more of his favorite dessert; but this was beyond amazing too.