LANDING AT TEN PM

"Are we there yet?"

Kurt tapped his foot impatiently against the floor, entangled and disentangled his slender fingers. It had been an awfully long flight and he really just wanted to get home. Sure, the show in L.A. had been a complete success and he had signed autographs until his hand pained with exhaustion, but he could not get home fast enough. His ever so faithful assistant did her very best not to roll her eyes.

"No. You'll notice when we're there when we land."

She received a well-earned glare from her employer, but the subject was soon dropped. This happened every time they stayed in a different city over the night, so she was used to his impatience and childish behaviour. His entire body was tingling with excitement and longing, like ants going nuts beneath his skin. Every single one of those ants went completely out of their mind as soon as Kurt noticed the familiar, bright lights of New York City. He leaned forward in his seat, nose everything but pressed up against the window, as if they would get there faster that way.

He nearly laughed when the plane began descending.

His foot seemed to tap constantly, but he simply could not help it. Everyone was so slow. They had to stay in their seats for a good ten minutes before he even was allowed to move. Then he was not even able to get off first, even though he obviously was the one in the most hurry. Therefore he ended up the longest and slowest queue in the history of the world. Seriously. He was not joking. What were they, hundred year old snails with hip replacements? It was a relief to get out of the plane and into the airport, but only a brief one. Kurt felt like dying when the speakers gave away a eery noise and later announced that because of certain delays, the luggage was on its way but they would have to wait. He did not know for how long he paced up and down the large room, but it was plenty enough for the other travelers to start whispering and verbally let out their annoyance. He would have stopped to argue, if not for the sudden move of the conveyor belt.

Of course he was one of the last persons to get their luggage back.

Kurt ran. Or, jogged may be the right term. His so called "people" jogged with him, knowing perfectly well what was coming as soon as they burst out of the doors and into the waiting hall. His body guard, who God knows did not have an easy job, hurried to get the door before him, but it was all in vain. Kurt flung the doors open, only to be temporarily blinded by the bright flashes of cameras. He did not bother waving or even smiling, because his eyes searched for something so much more important, the reason to his impatience. So many voices called his name, tried to get his attention, but he only listened to one of them. A man disengaged himself from the throng of people and Kurt's heart made a jolt when he recognized him. His bag was dropped upon the ground and quickly retrieved by his assistant, who knew this procedure by heart. This time, he actually ran. No one in the entire world existed except for Kurt and the love of his life. His smile went from ear to ear when the distance between them reduced quickly.

Kurt threw himself into Noah Puckerman's outstretched arms, blissfully giggling when his arms locked around his neck and his legs around his hips. Noah stumbled backwards, but regained his balance quickly, encircling him in a bone crushing hug.

"Holy fuck, I've missed you", his raw voice whispered into his lover's ear, small puffs of air hitting the side of his neck with every rapid breath.

Kurt's eyes were tightly closed when he inhaled the familiar, masculine scent which had meant home to him for the last four years. He murmured three words over and over again, I love you, I love you, I love you until Noah forced him to his feet and silenced him with a soul searing kiss. Cameras flashed again, pictures which would fill the tabloids the next day was being snapped while Kurt pushed himself as close as possible to his boyfriend. It would have been the make out of the century, if not for the fact that the exact thing happened last week and it would without doubt happen the week after this too.

He was breathless when their lips parted. Noah smiled.

"Let's get you home, hon, you're wearing far too many clothes."

Kurt giggled and took Noah's warm hand. Together, they walked out of JFK.