Two summers ago I wrote Mad Naked Summer or, the summer of sexual experimentation. An anon asked if I might revisit the story, so I thought I’d try. Picks up around the time that canon leaves off, in NYC in the summertime.
This is less of a multi-chapter fic and more of a verse, so not really a plot to keep up with, just the boys going through items on a sexy summer bucket list.
Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five /
Part Six / Part Seven
It’s been raining on and off all day, alternating from air heavy with humidity to the patter and hush of showers, then a refreshing break from the heat before the cycle starts up all over again. The latest rainfall is tapering off, dripping from the corners of rooftops and awnings, people outside shaking off their umbrellas and dashing across puddles. Blaine sits at the table with a heavy textbook and a blue highlighter, his notebook open to a blank sheet of paper, a cool breeze lifting the corners of the page he’s reading every so often.
It’s darker now than it usually is in the early evening; heavy clouds still slowly breaking apart and drifting away to reveal the indigo blue of the the sky, so Blaine has the overhead light on in the kitchen, and Kurt has the lights on in their room where a rustle or a clunk or a hum sounds out as Kurt gets ready and Blaine works in silence.
Blaine scribbles out an outline, double checks his notes, and then Kurt emerges. He looks gorgeous, and smells amazing, and Blaine has never hated History of Theater 102 as much as he does right now.