Home

Mike Chang is a honourably discharged soldier who is returning home from Iraq. Still dressed fully in Army Uniform, he goes to Dalton Academy to meet his boyfriend, Kurt, who he hasn't seen for nine months.

Warnings: Slash. Soldier!Mike

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee nor any of the characters I am using. I am not making any money from the distribution of this story nor am I intending to.

Word Count: 1,710

Home

It was with a light heart that Captain Michael 'Mike' Chang step from the Army Plane, his back weighed down with his rucksack and his body aching from having to sit down in such a cramped space for such a long time, but when his booted feet first touched down on American soil for the first time in almost a year, his head cleared and his heart fluttered.

"Chang, man!" Came the loud calls of Private First Class Noah Puckerman before a large hand clamped down on the Captains broad shoulder, jolting him forward. Puckerman - or Puck as he had been nicknamed around their Platoon - was a thickly set male with a head that had been stripped of it's mohawk - had been a constant by his side through their tour of Iraq and as Mike peered into the slightly shorter males darkened eyes which held excitement over being back home Mike knew that even if any of them in the Platoon held differences with each other, they would all keep in contact with each other; war is war, when you're out there, you have to put your differences aside and work together.

War held no patience for the squabbles of men.

"Going to go see your boy?" Puck said as they walked through the terminal, the loud ruckas making the soldier almost yell to be heard as a crying red headed petite woman nearly knocked over her son who could be heard crying into her small, shaking shoulders.

Mike smiled; though the army still held the notion of Don't Ask, Don't Tell Puck had had enough balls to ask after finding Mike's journal where he had kept numerous letters to his boyfriend - which he couldn't send for security reasons - and a photograph of the two; Kurt Hummel was fifteen in the picture, Mike having been sixteen in the picture. It had been on their second anniversary, and Kurt had just been told that Mike had enlisted, they were sitting in Lima General Park, sitting by the lake with Kurt sitting cross legged whilst Mikes long legs framed him. They were both crying.

"Yeah," Mike said, his deep voice making him smile; they had all changed. "I'm surprising him, he doesn't know I'm coming home today so I'm going to see him at school," Puck grinned widely, his brown eyes crinkling with the force of it. He was honestly happy for his Platoon Captain; they had been through so much together it was hard to think of him as anything but a brother.

"I hope you two have a wonderful reunion, but I gotta go man," Puck said as a small brownish-blond little girl came racing towards Puck. "My ma' and lil' sis is here!" The little girl, Mike knew, had to be Sarah Puckerman, Pucks little sister that Puck adored, the tall thin, brown skinned, brown haired woman was Ruth, who smiled at Mike politely before tugging her son into her arms as Little Sarah wrapped herself around his left lower leg. Guffawing, Mike clapped his fellow soldier on the shoulder, making Puck grin before waving to the rest of his Platoon who let out hearty yells as they saw the tall, muscular figure of the Captain.

"Stay in touch!" Was yelled as Mike walked out of the airport, he raised a fist in the air as he exited, his hear thrumming as he realised he would soon be seeing Kurt for the first time in nine months. He didn't care if he didn't have a ring, when he saw him, he was getting down on one knee and asking him to marry him.

—-

Many people knew that Kurt Elizabeth Hummel had a picture of a handsome soldier in his Dalton Academy Dormroom, they just didn't know who it was. Not even Blaine Anderson - who was Kurts undisputed best friend - knew who the soldier was. All Blaine could glean from the photo was that the man was a Captain of a Platoon which was currently touring in Iraq.

It was now Monday, and it had been nine months since Kurt had last saw Mike Chang; he didn't even know if his boyfriend was alive, the army had established that soldiers weren't allowed to send letters home just in case of a security breach that had happened only once before two years before Mikes Platoon had landed in Iraq.

Time dragged; first period History seemed to last three hours long instead of the usual two, break seemed longer than fifteen minutes whilst the hour before the hour dinner break seemed to pass as slow as a snail which infuriated Kurt to no end; he just wanted the school day to end so he could curl up in bed, sobbing over a movie whilst wearing one of Mikes favourite shirt as a bed shirt and wearing a pair of Mikes old to small boxers that Kurt had nicked.

Last period was Physical Education and they had currently been assigned the rotation of Gymnastics; which Kurt was inordinately pleased about as this was an activity in which he could let his own obdurate body relax. As they filed into the changing room, his mind wandered. He wandered what Mike would be doing, would he be asleep? Would he be out in the field, under a spray of metallic spurs that would cut through skin as easily as a knife as blood fell to the sandy floor as his platoon followed closely behind him?

Face paling dizzyingly fast, Kurt shook himself; he could not afford to let himself think like that, he couldn't allow himself to think that Mike would not be coming back.

He promised, Kurt thought desperately as he filed into the Gymnastics hall clad in a black polo shirt with a embroidered D on the left breast pocket and short black shorts. He promised he would come back.

But Kurt held no allusions; he knew that not every soldier came back. Looking at Carol - his new step-mother - and Finn Hudson, he knew better than to think Mike Chang would be coming with 100% positivity; Finns father and Carols late husband, Christopher had too been a soldier - a career his son was following - that had been called to duty in Iraq; two years later, Carol had received a black letter of mourning telling her and the unborn Finn that Christopher had been killed in action.

"Okay boys, put your hands up if you can do a cartwheel?" Coach Ruby Leot chirped cheerfully, bouncing on her feet and red hair twirled around her. Bored, Kurt raised his pale hand surprisingly, he was the only one. Leot looked around in disappointment.

"Okay Kurt," She focused in on him. "Can you do a backbend?" Not even bothering to move from his place, he settled thin legs shoulders width apart before casually letting his back bend so his palms touched the floor. "Can you flick yourself out of it?" Rolling glasz eyes, a slender leg kicked Kurt forward so his legs sprung over his head and he stood with his feet firmly on the ground flicking boredly at his nails. Leot flushed at Kurts obvious talent.

"Can you do a routine?" Leot asked, Kurt raised his eyebrow and was tempted to just spurt out; Please. I was the Cheerio's Head Cheerleader fo the majority of the year. Of course I can do a routine you blithering bumbling moronic idiot. But he held firm and sauntered into the middle of the red bouncy floor, starting with his starting position which Coach Sylvester had drilled into him.

Taking a running leap, Kurt volted himself into a nonhanded cartwheel which had his fellow students giving startling gasps, followed by a roundoff which was followed by a backwards summersault where he allowed himself to fall into a backwards handspring before ending in his usual position. Silence reigned from the Dalton Boys as Coach Leot moved forward, smiling mouth opening before a single clap rang out, echoing dully through the vast wooden room.

Turning slowly, Kurt froze. No, that wasn't- it couldn't be - could it? There, standing a few inches from him was a handsome soldier still in army uniform a rucksack tossed over his shoulder and beret still atop his shaved hat. Mike Chang stood before him in all his glory.

As he was allowed to process this sight, tears sprung up in his glasz eyes; it had been far too long. No longer able to keep it together or keep at lease a shred of decorum, an almost sobbing Kurt found himself flat out running to the taller male, launching himself up into the air where he found his thin arms around Mikes neck, head buried in his chest and long, slender legs wrapped firmly around Mikes waist. He didn't know what he was saying, all he knew was that he was babbling "Mike,Mike,Mike,Mike,Mike,Mike,Mike,MikeMike,Mike,Mike," as he sobbed into Mikes chest.

As he sobbed into the army uniform adorning his boyfriend, he felt muscular arms - more muscular than the last time they had held Kurt - clinch themselves tightly around Kurts waist, holding him up as he felt his hair dampen as Mike cried silently into Kurts hair.

"Kurt!" He whispered into his sobbing boyfriends ear, stroking a long-fingered hand through the boys hair, mussing it up without complaint which was a shock to the watching Dalton Boys.

Mike pulled away, resting his forehead again Kurts. "I love you," He whispered lowly, making the boys- who could hear because of the vastness of the room - smile almost sappily. Kurt grinned, cheeks still damp with tears and he rested his hand on Mikes sharp and defined jawline.

"I love you too,"

He was home and nothing else mattered to any of them.