The door slammed shut, the frame shaking with the force. The weather outside wasn't pleasant in the earnest, and so the man, who'd slammed the door shut upon entering, was dripping water from head to toe. A small puddle was forming where he was standing, not helping the already terrible mood he was in.

He closed his eyes briefly, breathing deeply and trying not to make a bloody mess out of the kitten that was trying to get across the puddle and rub himself against the man's legs.

Stepping out of his shoes and hanging his coat on the rack, he tried not to flood the apartment with all the water that just refused to dry.

As the next lightning struck, the kitten fled back to what was his hiding place from the noise before he went to greet his feeder at the door.

With a heavy sigh, he made his way to the bedroom, still dripping as the water declined to cooperate.

He opened the door to the bedroom, taking in the sight before him.

The room so familiar and welcoming. Pastel walls, wooden floor, cream rug and a big bed under one wall. This wasn't as important as what, or who, was currently on the bed.

His husband was lying on the bed on his stomach, flipping through some fashion magazine he so adored, bathed in the soft light from the lamp. When he heard the door opening, he turned around, flipping onto his back, and taking off his reading glasses.

Seeing Blaine's expression, he opened his arms.

"I'm all wet." He wasn't getting the bed wet.

"Cuddle, Blaine." He emphasized his point by widening his arms and pouting slightly.

It was offering, then pleading and after that threatening. Scary Kurt is scary. He wasn't risking it.

"Lose the clothes first, though. What? I'm not about to sleep on wet sheets." He added the second part after seeing the raised eyebrows.

After quickly stripping off the clothes, he crawled into the open arms and laid back onto the bed.

"You want to talk about it?"

"Shut it and cuddle."

And they did. They cuddled and there were also kisses exchanged. There were also brief mentions of hot cocoa, but nobody has ever moved an inch in the direction of the kitchen to make it. The kitten, which was called kitten as they couldn't come to the agreement on a name, also came to squeeze its way between their arms. They stayed like that, all three, the whole night. Eventually some soft snoring also could be heard in the otherwise silent room.

The thunder carried on outside, raindrops falling against the window. The next morning there would be a few smaller trees broken and blocking the way, but that was tomorrow. For now they were happy, lying there together in the safety of the pastel room.