A/N: I don't own Glee or any of the characters, yada yada yada...

Raindrops hammered at the window of the bedroom, the dull light from the stormy day outside cast the room in half-shadow. Kurt rolled over under his warm duvet, relishing the sounds of the storm from the comfort of his queen-size mattress. Kurt loved rainstorms, but what he loved even more were Saturday morning rainstorms. He sighed contentedly, allowing his eyes to flicker open and stare, unfocused, at the grey skies outside his window. This had all the makings of a perfect day.

Suddenly, his cellphone lit up, the custom ringtone he had set blaring the song "Teenage Dream". He smiled sleepily as he reached over and picked up the phone, not bothering to check the caller ID. There was no need.

"Good morning, stranger," he murmured, inflecting his voice in the happiest tone he could muster, given the fact that he'd only just woken up.

"When I woke up and saw the rain outside, I thought of you and how much you love thunderstorms. Then I decided it was probably unwise to call you at seven o'clock on a Saturday morning." Blaine sounded infuriatingly chipper, and if it had been anyone other than him, Kurt would've hung up the phone immediately. But Kurt knew that Blaine couldn't help it; his cheery disposition was one of the qualities Kurt loved most about him.

"Good call," Kurt chuckled, knowing full well that had Blaine actually called him at 7 A.M., he wouldn't have even picked up the phone. A boy needs his beauty sleep, after all.

Blaine continued, his excitement audibly growing. "Anyway, I thought to myself, 'How great would it be if Kurt and I watched Singin' in the Rain in the middle of this storm?' So now I'm calling you because I've been sitting in your driveway for about ten minutes, and it's kind of boring out here, so I was hoping you'd let me inside."

Kurt snorted. "What?" He untangled himself from his bed sheets and staggered over to the window, looking down at the driveway where Blaine's Oldsmobile hatchback was, in fact, idling.

"You're unbelievable," he sighed, shaking his head and waving as he made eye contact with Blaine, who grinned up at him through the windshield of his car.

"Does that mean you're going to let me in?" Blaine asked wryly, barely masking the pure, unadulterated excitement in his voice. Kurt beamed.

"I'll be down in a minute."

Kurt tiptoed downstairs, careful not to wake the rest of the family. When he opened the door, he found himself being pulled into a very tight, very wet hug by his boyfriend.

"Um, Blaine –"

Blaine quickly let go, grinning from ear to ear.

"Where is everybody?"

"Still sleeping, so we should probably keep the screaming matches to a minimum."

Blaine snorted at Kurt's sarcasm. "It's really coming down out there! I just ran from the car to your door and look at me, my shirt is completely soaked through." As he spoke, he walked around Kurt and into the living room, slowly tugging his arms out of the sleeves of his grey henley.

Kurt found himself unable to speak as the other boy pulled the shirt off completely, revealing a thin, whit undershirt which clung to his biceps like there was no tomorrow. Kurt shook his head slightly, determined to keep his composure for at least a little longer. He quickly tried to think of something semi-intelligent to ask Blaine.

"So, um… you brought a movie?"

So much for semi-intelligent: his voice was only slightly higher than usual, but he doubted Blaine would notice.

Blaine noticed. He knew full well how Kurt felt about his arms ("They're like bronze pythons, Blaine, they need to be kept in a zoo!"), and he smiled internally, ready to milk this knowledge for all it was worth.

"Yes sir, the best of the best! Classic Gene Kelly and Debbie Reynolds. I mean really," he beamed, being sure to bend down extra slowly to pop the disc into the DVD player. "Can you think of any better way to spend a rainy Saturday?"

Yeah, Kurt thought, anything that leads to having my soul practically sucked out of my mouth while clutching onto those arms for dear life. Blaine could practically hear the un-dapper thoughts racing through Kurt's mind, since he was thinking the same ones. But he maintained his cheerful façade, bouncing around the kitchen and microwaving popcorn and jabbering on about the sheer volume of talent crammed into one movie, occasionally glancing over to Kurt, who had tentatively seated himself on the couch and played absentmindedly with the remote, the glazed over look in his eyes making it quite clear to Blaine that his thoughts were still in a deliciously unholy place.

Kurt snapped out of his reverie of sexual deviancy when Blaine flounced down onto the couch next to him, clutching a bowl of fresh popcorn and wearing an expression that Kurt felt should be made illegal for how adorable it was. Blaine smiled and rubbed his boyfriend's thigh as he reached over his lap for the remote. Kurt gasped as he felt the device dragged slowly over the crotch of his pajama pants, which, his was now beginning to realize, were much thinner than he had thought. He mentally kicked himself as he felt his cock begin to twitch under the fabric, glancing over at Blaine somewhat nervously. The smile on Blaine's face had grown wider as he put the popcorn down on the coffee table in front of them and let his hand return to Kurt's thigh as he pressed 'Play' on the remote.

Well, Kurt thought, trying to focus on keeping his breathing steady as Blaine began to tap lightly on his thigh along to the opening number. This is going to be interesting…