happyinchintz72 (happyinchintz72) wrote,

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Bella Notte (One-Shot)

Title: Bella Note
Word Count~ 1,700
Characters: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A little moment of sunshine, a post-shower Blaine and Italy. The order of those things being impossible to define in terms of what is most important to Kurt... ;)
(Futue!fic set loosely in a Summer during college)

Author's Notes:
This is the shameless sight of me trying to claw my way back into writing after WEEKS of finding it exceptionally difficult. I spend a large chunk of my time around Italians (and have grown to adore their entire view of life, love and everything in between!) and have a deeply seated and desperate wish to visit the country one day. I needed to write something happy and thoroughly enjoyed writing this little thing. Please enjoy :)

* * * * * * * *

The sun is setting and the world seems bathed and glowing amber under a sky that’s creeping slowly towards night.

The sound of the old, less-than-functional shower is comforting in the background, safe as a reminder that Blaine is close.

At seventeen, there’d been blissful talk of a holiday abroad together, exploring and adventuring but most of all, spending time together immersed entirely in culture and sunshine - or as Kurt had cleverly quipped at the time, sunscreen. Things haven’t changed by their twenties, Kurt thinks to himself as he sips crisp ice water and leans against the iron railing of their balcony in the sweeping and rolling heat. They’d talked when they were a little younger about the future; normal teenage ‘what if’ moments were always ‘when’ and the uncertainty often felt overwhelming and all-encompassing for everything except their relationship. There’d been speed bumps, moments of panic and worry because ‘surely two people so young weren’t aware of the meaning of commitment’ or whatever people thought, but they never dreamed based on an imagined hope of the future, they’d planned on a certainty.

Kurt surveys the street below as he sips quietly, muscles sighing and skin tingling in the diminishing sunlight. 

Blaine’s parents had visited Italy before and it was a place so high on Kurt’s wish list that a mere suggestion by them of a city break the first Summer of being together again in New York as a present sparked a list of plans so long and color coordinated that Blaine had simply rolled his eyes affectionately, scribbled down the three things he most definitely wanted to add to the list and left Kurt to it.

Of course those three things were already marked in green (high importance) causing Kurt to grin stupidly at his notebook and tickle his toes against Blaine’s as they sat quietly together in their apartment.

Now they’re here, Kurt can barely breathe with anticipation. The world feels vast but curled protectively in on them both at once, each day a beautiful endless stretch of adventure and intimacy that sends Kurt’s head spinning.

Blaine suits the climate, all short sleeves and rolling muscles highlighted in sparkling sunshine, so much so that Kurt is sure he spent the first day salivating and hiding his wandering eyes behind his pair of very large and very expensive Chanel shades.

He’s had the chance to air the majority of his Summer wardrobe and not once has he felt out of place walking the streets in couture or striking ensembles. He’d even caught the eye of a handsome barman their first night in the city much to Blaine’s delight…

That’s the magic of a well fitted waistcoat.

Everything about Italy makes him dizzy, though: the food, the music, the atmosphere and, of course, the shopping. He’s even added “buy a new suitcase” to his Italian To Do list to transport all of their new purchases back home. They’ve eaten well and tried tirelessly to do so on a budget. They haven’t scrimped on being adventurous either prompting Blaine to try Lemoncello for the first time and Kurt to test out his rusty Italian phrases on a very patient antique jewellery seller. Kurt’s watched Blaine morph seamlessly from a bouncing child at Christmas with a digital camera to a picture of quiet contemplation and serenity, staring in awe at the sights, nodding politely at every shop keeper or market stall worker and tipping waiters in abundance. Kurt’s sure he’s dreaming most of the time, drinking in every last detail, smell and cosy-romantic image to recall when the greyness of New York engulfs him once more.

The things people say about Italy: the passion that soaks you and grabs you by the heart with a promise to break you apart and build you back together gently, filling you with warmth, sunlight and a wealth of art and literature and religion. It’s all true and more.

Kurt’s not even a Believer but goodness, Italy makes him want to believe in something - even if it is just serenity or true and aching happiness.

The fresh mozzarella is enough to suggest there’s Divinity smiling down on him.

As is the image of Blaine delicately padding across the tiled floor from the bathroom, unaware that Kurt’s quick eyes have spotted him. It’s a skill being such a good spy, Kurt thinks wistfully, arching his back and settling against the railing on the balcony to sneakily watch Blaine dry and dress himself.

He’s careful and slow, dabbing his skin with the towel , but Kurt’s watching the trickles of water run haphazardly down the curve of Blaine’s shoulder, slightly pink from too much sun. It’s intoxicating. There’s a tinkle of piano keys from a nearby restaurant and a faint smell of herbs in the air and Kurt is sure he’s never been happier, never wished he could stop time as desperately.

Until Blaine meets his eyes through two open door ways.

He’d never wish to stop that.

There’s nothing like the soft yet mind blowing flicker of hazel eyes framed in long dark eyelashes. Kurt’s cherished it since day one. He swoons every single time and although he feigns an air of utter restraint at times, keeping up his well practised aura of aloofness is impossible under Blaine’s gaze. Words aren’t necessary when you have eyes like Blaine Anderson.

With a mere hint of a pleased smile, Kurt raises an eyebrow that makes Blaine positively beam, smoothing a towel down his arms and scooping up every droplet of water that Kurt is sure he’s just spent the past five minutes silently thanking a non-existent God for. He shivers as Blaine turns, dropping the towel in full awareness that Kurt’s eyes are beady and attentive and Kurt is treated, for a split second, of a view even more breathtaking than the Trevi fountain.

There’s a delicious blush that creeps up from the collar of his shirt. Still. After all this time.

The ice water helps cool him down as he drifts again, mind crammed full of wonder and Blaine and love and the magic of a sunset. 

In no time, there are footsteps - quiet and endlessly unassuming - and a pair of careful but firm arms (now unfortunately clad in clothing) looping his middle without hesitation.

“You look a million miles away,” Blaine says simply, his chin coming to rest against Kurt’s shoulder.

Kurt’s fingers move instinctively, walking to land splayed across Blaine’s arm where they flatten and allow his palm to press against skin. It’s shower-warm and smooth.

“I don’t think I knew the meaning of the word ‘contented’ until now,” Kurt breathes out, gaze dropping lazily over every detail of the view as his skin shivers at the affectionate squeeze Blaine gives his waist. “I think I’ve decided that when I become disgustingly rich, I’ll treat us to a home in Italy where we’ll Summer and top up our tans.”

Blaine laughs, low and fond against his skin. “And what if I become disgustingly rich first?”

Kurt sighs happily, smiling and turning to look at Blaine directly. “Then I’ll expect you to do the same and I’ll bask in the glory of being a kept man.”

The crinkles form at the creases of Blaine’s eyes way before his smile beams brightest and Kurt’s heart quickens. Everything smells of life and the richness of doing it all in style but mostly of Blaine’s shower gel and the way it mixes perfectly with Kurt’s cologne. 

He chuckles to himself, bringing to mind the way their friends often pull faces and lament about how they’re sickeningly suited in every way humanly possible.

“What?” Blaine asks with a smile, untangling his limbs and holding Kurt by the hips with wide hands. He’s grounding and other-wordly all at once with so much old charm and glittering youth in his very pores that Kurt catches his breath for the hundredth time since their plane landed.

“Bring me here for our honeymoon, please?” is all he asks and watches the fondness tug at Blaine’s smile. His whole face crumbles at the enormity in those words but then ever so gradually floods with a softness that sends Kurt’s heart a-swoop.

“Any other requests?” Blaine’s voice comes out breathless and as beautiful as the breeze rustling the vine leaves.

“Take me for food and wine this evening and let’s walk in the moonlight like we’re in the movies.”

“So demanding,” Blaine chuckles as he detaches himself and pets down his shirt, sighing dramatically.

Kurt sets down his glass on the near-by table, ducks close to straighten Blaine’s collar only to be met with eyes shimmering in emotion and lips so kissable it hurts. They move gently together, sliding smooth until restraint is impossible and neither knows who acts first.

Kissing under an Italian sunset isn’t on Kurt’s bucket list but he simultaneously adds it and crosses it off in his mind with a fluttering heart.

When Blaine’s fingers have relinquished their hold on Kurt’s shirt and patted down the creases, Kurt breaks their bubble and walks - in a way intended to be elegant but that is more shakily than anything - to pick up their little pile of keys and wallets.

He grins giddy to himself at that. Even the tiny details of their now tangled lives seem to make him stupid recently.

“Ready to go?” Blaine asks, crossing the room and holding open the apartment door. He offers his arm so naturally in his own quietly charming way and Kurt flushes with pride and gratitude as he takes it gladly.

“I’m warning you now that I’ll be buying the most expensive thing on the menu this evening and I won’t allow myself a moment’s guilt,” Kurt says with certainty as Blaine locks the door, “and I don’t want to go to sleep until at least four am because this city comes alive at night and I want to be awake to see it all.”

Blaine’s eyes sparkle as he turns and threads their arms together once again. “Oh, I’m sure we can find something to occupy ourselves with.”

Kurt catches the playful quirk of his lips and oh does he know that look. Four am never looked so wonderfully promising.

He almost skips over the threshold of the apartment block, snuggling into Blaine’s side with a tiny squeal of delight. 

“Oh, when in Rome!”


I hope you enjoyed! I may be persuaded to write more little additions to this  as I've had a few requests so please do let me know if you'd like more :)

As I said, this is my desperate attempt to kick my horrible trouble with writing that has plagued me for weeks and kept me from my WIPs. Please see THIS TAG on my tumblr because I keep everything in one place (links to on-shots/WIP updates, writing talk and basically anything related including asks/questions) and it does go a little way to apologise or explain why I've been a little slow. Writing and I are just getting reacquainted so I hope to back in the swing of things soon :)

Tags: fan fiction, fandom: glee, fic: one-shot, kurt&blaine
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