Author's Notes: Last chapter people. This story is finished! I'm so happy that you've enjoyed it. And a special thanks goes to everyone that has been following me on this slightly insane ride through World War II.And a special thanks goes out to ampersandandink for guilting me into getting this chapter edited and posted.
(http:/lilgirlost(.)tumblr(.)com/post/13654506036) I made some art for this chapter. The letter will make sense, more sense, if you take a look.
Sorry about the stains, Artie dropped his coffee (if you call it that) on it and then it got wet during the last rainstorm. Who knew that Italy would be this cold in the winter. Always thought it would be much warmer, that's how it seems in the pictures. Thanks for the socks, the rest of my unit was jealous. I miss you and I hope this war is over soon.
I glad that you're enjoying your job with Mr. Haley, it's good that you've found something to keep you busy. It's good to keep busy. I hate the idea of you sitting around worrying about me. Sorry…feels like I say that alot in my letters but I have to cut this short we're moving soon.
Stay safe Kurt and I'll try my best too, as well.
All my love,
P.S. Artie drew you a bird to say sorry about the large coffee stain.
Summer passed quickly for Kurt, in a flurry of wedding preparations, days working at the garage, weekends spent helping Carole tend their small garden, and time spent with friends. For once, Kurt couldn't complain that life was dull or mundane, like he would have before Canada. He had loved his dad, London and his life in England, but it just became so repetitive, especially after a lot of his friends had left London for safer parts of the country—the North of Wales came to mind for some reason.
At the end of June, Quinn was married and was off to spend a few days on her honeymoon with Sam; leaving their small son in the care of her older sister, Frannie, who had come from Seattle for the wedding and had stayed after for just that purpose. As for Rachel and Noah's wedding, they had decided to wait until Finn's return, so he could return the favor and stand as Noah's best man.
July arrived bringing with it unbearable heat that had Kurt wishing that winter had never left Victoria. And he had told Carole as much, causing the older woman to laugh at his cheek and assure him whole-heartedly that he wouldn't melt before autumn came. Kurt knew the weather wouldn't have been so unbearable, if he didn't spend such long hours under the hoods and carriages of various cars. Harley's garage was filled with nothing but hot stale air and the sounds of tools against machinery, and Kurt relished the moment when he was done for the day, and could finally go home—where nine times out of ten, Carole would find him sprawled on the living room floor under the ceiling fan, when she came in from work.
And Kurt was in complete rapture when the heat wave broke and ushered in autumn. The trees turned to reds and yellows, and the late night air held a faint chill. It was on those nights, when the air was chiller than usual, that Kurt would grab a blanket and lay under the stars. Sometimes, Carole would join him, but most times she wouldn't. The first time he had done it, Carole had asked why and he had told her that he had never really been able to enjoy the stars in London due to the fog and its tall buildings, and Carole had simply patted him on the arm before disappearing back into the house.
"Carole?" Kurt called out as he entered the house. "I got the apples you needed for the tarts. And are you absolutely sure that we need to go to the Halloween party. Couldn't we just drop off the food and then runaway?"
Carole's voice could be heard from the kitchen, laughing at her son-in-law's question. "No we can't. Besides, the apple tarts were your idea, as I recall, something about making them at Halloween for your local parish."
"I have bad news, Carole," Kurt said gravely, as he came to stand in the open doorway of the kitchen. "I lied. Shocking, I know, but I'm big fat liar."
Carole laughed again at Kurt, rolling her eyes in exasperation of him. "Get in here and help. Or I won't let you have any."
"Well, maybe I don't want any." Kurt replied, placing his freehand on his hip as he gazed at his mother-in-law.
"I told you, I'm a big fat liar." Kurt repeated, grinning at Carole. "Now, where should I start?"
"You can start with washing and peeling the apples. I've almost finished with the crusts."
Kurt nodded at the woman, beginning the task of washing and peeling the apples as requested. The pair worked in silence; each focused on their own part of tart making. Once the apple filling was finished, Kurt spooned them into their crusts, dropping a few 1 cent pieces as he went. The idea was for the children to find the coins as a prize when they ate the tarts. Kurt had always loved that part of the holiday when he was kid, finding the money and then later spending it on something he wanted.
Once the tarts were out of the oven, Kurt offered to pack them for Carole, so she could go and change before the party. After he was finished, Kurt followed a few minutes later; although, he wore coveralls at the garage, Kurt still felt dirty when he came home. Tugging off his suspenders as he took the stairs two at the time, Kurt's first stop was the bathroom to wash off the worst of the grime.
Half an hour later, the pair left the house for a night of bewitching games, good food, and pleasant company, which Kurt was certain was going to be a lot more entertaining than last year, especially with the presence of Noah Puckerman. Kurt had thought the man, loud-mouth and brash when he had known him briefly in London. And in the months since the man's homecoming, it turned out that Kurt hadn't been so wrong in his opinion, yet it would seem there were more layers to Noah Puckerman then Kurt had ever imagined, which explained why Finn was friends with the Jewish man.
And it turned out that Kurt was right about Noah Puckerman; he had turned out to be life of the party, regaling the children as well as the adults with some crazier stories involving his platoon, especially Finn. Kurt had laughed right along with the stories, but it was with a heavy heart. He could stop the guilt filling his heart as he enjoyed the holiday, while his husband was experiencing god only knew. And as the night continued, Kurt pushed those thoughts and his guilt to the back of his mind—finding joy in the company of his friends, laughing as Blaine tried to bob for apples and failed and aww-ing with the rest of the room when Sam pulled Quinn into an impromptu spin around the room.
However, by the time Carole and Kurt had left the party, the guilt and the worry was back, pressing down on Kurt's shoulders. While his thoughts were never far from his father and Finn, he couldn't stop the guilt of being so far removed from the war. Although the war was front page news in the papers, it served as more space filler then actual news. Everyone had someone fighting in Europe or India—whether it was a brother, a son, a husband, or a father—they focused on their soldier and not really the outcome of the war. Sure, Kurt wanted the Allied forces to tramps across Hitler and his stupid mustache; but what he really wanted was Finn home, safe and sound.
Shaking his head to clear those thoughts, Kurt refocused his attention back on driving Carole and himself home from the Halloween party. Once safely home, the pair separated with light kisses on the other's cheek. Kurt was itching to finish his letter to Finn before crawling into bed to reread some of Finn's letters. As he drifted off to sleep that night, Kurt couldn't help but send a silent prayer to whoever listening that Finn would be home soon.
The winter of '44 came far too quickly in Kurt's opinion, causing him to beg for forgiveness to the weather gods for ever blaspheming the heat wave in July. At one point, Kurt even went as far as trying to do the equivalent of a rain dance, for warmth. Carole had almost died laughing at the man, before sending him off to work. He had left the house with a small grumble, not relishing the fact that heat in the garage was on the fritz. Harley promised to have it seen to, yet Kurt wasn't holding his breath in the slightest. Instead, he bundled up, wearing a scarf and fingerless gloves with his coveralls, earning himself a raised eyebrow from Harley when the older man had seen him.
"Does wearing the scarf, really help?" Harley asked as he took in Kurt with his grease-stained coveralls and brightly knitted scarf.
"It keeps my neck warm, if that is what you are wondering." Kurt replied, pulling his head out from under the hood and glancing at his boss.
Harley's eyes narrowed at Kurt's answer; deciding the younger man's cheek didn't need a vocal response. Kurt flashed a full-toothed grin at Harley, before ducking his head back under the sedan's hood. As he went back to work, Kurt could faintly hear the older man walked away, no doubt returning to the car he had been working on.
It might have been fifteen or twenty minutes later when Kurt heard his name being called. He grumbled under his breath at being interrupted again; all he wanted to get this car finished—the quicker he finished the quicker he could get home and warm up again. Pushing away from the car, he rounded the side facing the front office and walked towards the sound of Harley's voice. The mechanic appeared to be talking exciting to someone, which was very strange for Harley—the garage owner was not known for being excited…about anything.
"Harley. I would really like to get this car finished, and I can't do that if you keep interrupting me." Kurt called out, not bothering to wait until he was in front of the older man to speak.
"Just come here, I think you'll like what I have to show you." Harley yelled back, rolling his eyes in annoyance of his part-time mechanic. Kurt was hard worker and good at his job, but sometimes his personality and flair for the dramatic annoyed Harley to no ends.
"This better be important," Kurt called out. "because this car stands between me and freed…" Kurt continued before his voice trailed off as he eyes took in the young soldier standing next to Harley. He stumbled slightly, tripping over his own feet, as his hands reached for the soldier, and luckily the soldier was quicker, hands grabbing Kurt's arms to stop him from pitching forward. Tears were streaming down Kurt's face as he grabbed a hold of the soldier's broad shoulders, pulling him into a hug.
"Oh god, you're here…you're really here." Kurt mumbled, his face pressed into the man's army green uniform. Kurt felt the man's hands wrap around his body, resting on the small of his back. Kurt breathed in the scent of his husband, letting the smell of day old sweat and the unique scent of Finn wash over him.
"I'm home, love." Finn murmured in Kurt's ear then placed a light kiss behind the smaller man's ear. "I'd hope to surprise you at home, but when Blaine met me at the dock, he told me that you were working today."
"Blaine knew?" Kurt asked, looking up at Finn with the faintest amount of hurt in his eyes.
As Finn returned his husband's gaze, he noticed the slight hurt in his husband's light blue eyes and quickly explained. "I wanted to surprise you and mom, so I needed to have someone pick me up; otherwise, I would have had to walk home…in the cold." Finn said, pouting a little when he mentioned the cold.
Kurt giggled at Finn's pout, tugging at the other man's collar, brushing it down and straightening it, just to give his hands something to do. "Well, we can't have that."
Finn smiled brightly at Kurt. "Harley, can I take him home?" Finn shouted to the garage owner, who had slinked out of sight during their emotional homecoming.
"Yeah, take him home. He's going to be no use to me for the rest of the day." Harley yelled back, closing the hood of the sedan Kurt had been working on. "I'm expecting him back next week, Hudson. And he better be able to walk."
Kurt's face heated up, turning beet red his boss's remark, causing Finn to laugh at the comment and the redness in his husband's face. "We'll see about that, Harley."
"You'll see nothing, Hudson." Harley grumbled, unable to keep a grin off his face. "Your husband is a good worker, one of my best. And I expect him back. You can't keep him, Hudson, just because you're home now." Although Kurt rolled his eyes at Harley, he couldn't stop the small grin on his face at the praise he received—Harley wasn't one to give praise, only criticism.
Finn lightly jostled Kurt, trying to get the slender man's attention; once he had it, he began walking towards the shop door with his husband still in arms. However, the Englishman was having none of it, especially when he dug his heels into the shop's floor. "No…Finn…wait!"
Finn looked down at the blue eyed man, his brow furrowing in confusion as to why Kurt was telling him to stop. At seeing the look of confusion in the soldier's eyes, Kurt explained. "I need to change. I'm not going home in these greasy coveralls. What will the town think?"
"They'll think that you are overjoyed that I'm home, and could care less about how your clothes look." Finn responded, smirking. Kurt snorted in reply before pulling away from the taller man and disappeared to quickly change his clothes.
As Finn made to follow him, a grunt came from across the shop, causing him to pause and turn towards the noise. "Employees only, Hudson." Finn frowned at the older man, but stayed put as he waited for Kurt to reappear.
"Ready," Kurt said, grasping Finn's hand in his own as he came to stand beside the taller man. "I'll see you next week, Harley."
"Holding you too it, Hudson." Harley muttered, watching as Finn all but dragged Kurt out his garage.
"So how are we getting home, Finn?" Kurt asked as the pair walked down Main Street, towards the outer limits of Victoria.
Finn glanced down at Kurt. "Blaine's letting us borrow his dad's car."
The Englishman smiled at Finn, tugging on their joined hands as he crossed the street and towards the Andersons' car. "Your mum is still at work and won't be home for a few hours, whatever shall we do?" Kurt asked innocently, as they climbed into the car with Finn at the wheel.
The Canadian smirked at his English partner, happy that Kurt's mind had gone exactly where he wanted it to go. "I can think of a few things." Finn said, his voice dropping in pitch before pulling Kurt into a kiss, tongue searching and teeth nipping as he set about to relearn his husband's mouth.
Moments later Kurt pushed the man away, needing to breathe and slightly embarrassed that he was allowing Finn to snog him the Andersons' car, especially in full view of Main Street. "Finn, we can't. Start the car and take us home."
Usually the drive home was short, but Finn managed to make unbearably long, considering how he couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself; with one hand on the wheel, the other slowly crept up his husband's thigh, stopping only inches from the rising tent in Kurt's trouser.
Kurt squirmed in his seat, glaring at Finn all the while. He had managed to survive the last three years with only his right hand for company, but it would seem that his body wasn't willing to wait…and neither was Finn. Grasping the wondering hand, Kurt moved it from his body, entwining it with his own, before giving Finn a smug grin. Finn's eyes shifted from the road and towards Kurt's face then to his trapped hand. Tugging on it firmly, he tried to pull his hand from Kurt's grasp, yet the other man held firm. The Englishman wasn't going to allow his husband to tease him, especially if he couldn't follow through with it then and there.
It was only when they were finally stopped in front of the house did Kurt released his hold on Finn's hand, allowing him to shift the car into park. Opening the back passenger door, Kurt grabbed Finn's duffle, ready to take into the house; yet, Finn's hand wrapping itself around his own stopped him. After taking the pack from Kurt and grabbing his hand, Finn mounted the stairs of his childhood home, eager to cross the threshold of his home after having been gone for so long. Pushing the door open, Finn paused in the doorway, allowing his eyes to drift around the living room, taking in all of the changes since the last time he had been here. And Kurt waited quietly, understanding that the soldier needed time to become familiar with his home again.
After he crossed the threshold, Finn dropped his duffle on the floor and swept Kurt into his arms, bridal style, earning a squeal of surprise from Kurt. Finn chuckled at the sound, spinning a little, as he made his way towards the stairs. Kurt wrapped his hands around Finn's neck, gripping the collar; he knew that Finn wouldn't drop him, but it didn't stop him from holding on, simply because he could.
"We aren't exactly newlyweds, Finn." Kurt remarked, grinning into his husband's face. Finn responded with a simple brush of his lips against Kurt's cheek.
It wasn't until they were outside the bedroom door did Finn give an actual answer to the Kurt's question. "Aren't we?" Pressing a kiss to his partner's lips, Finn pushed the door open with his foot.
"We're newlyweds to this house." He told the Englishman as he walked through the door.
As he dropped Kurt on the bed, he murmured. "We're newlyweds to this bed." The blue eyed man laughed at the earnest look on Finn's face before pulling him closer to kiss it away. Finn could be so serious and yet be so silly at the same time; it was part of his charm and one of the reasons Kurt had found himself drawn towards the Canadian. Even in a hellish place London had become, Finn could still find happiness in some of the most mundane things. And it had never failed to make Kurt smile at the man.
Once he broke the kiss, Kurt's hand wondered across the clothed chest, yanking at the buttons of Finn's shirt. The soldier watched as Kurt fumbled with the little pieces of brass, tugging at them when they wouldn't go back through their holes. Grabbing Kurt's hands, Finn pushed them away, opening his shirt with a flick of his wrist.
Licking his lips, Kurt watched with lust-filled eyes as his husband's tanned skin was revealed inch by beautiful inch. It had definitely been too long for both of them. Climbing off the bed, Kurt stepped closer, his fingertips wondering across the muscle defined chest. He felt Finn's breath catch as his finger circled around an exposed nipple before tugging on it. Finn was leaner than Kurt remembered and had a few more scars, but the Canadian was still as beautiful as the first time the Englishman had seen him on their wedding night.
Later when he had more time, Kurt planned to trace every new scar to memory; yet right now, he simply wanted to feel a connection—a connection he hadn't felt in years—to his husband. Deciding to take a page from Finn's book, Kurt started on his own shirt, tugging it off as he watched Finn get rid of his military issued trousers. The mechanic grinned at his husband before opening his own trousers and pushed them down his slender hips, his shoes, socks and drawers quickly following.
Once naked before Finn's dark brown eyes, Kurt fell back upon the bed, his hands reaching out to Finn. The soldier grasped on of Kurt's hands in his own, placing a kiss on each of knuckle before draping his body on Kurt's. A small grunt passed through Kurt's lips at the contact; it had definitely been far too long since Kurt had felt Finn's body on his. His husband wasn't heavy, per say, he was just big; Kurt couldn't help but laugh softly at the innuendo.
At seeing the perplexed look in Finn's gaze, Kurt saved himself the trouble of having to answer by wrapping his hand around the soldier's length. Finn gave a moan at the sensation; Kurt's hand felt different from his own, different size, different calluses, and a different strength in his grip and it was perfect. Bending his head, Finn caught his lover's mouth with his own, swallowing the faint gasp as his hand reached down and stroked the hardening member. Like Kurt, Finn knew this moment wasn't going to last very long and yet it didn't matter. All that matter was finding that connection again, feeling every emotion they had felt together in London.
As they stroked each other towards climax, they traded kisses and murmured words, each enjoying the feel of the other in their arms. Panting slightly, Kurt leaned forward, whispering four words into Finn's ear before catching the other man's mouth in a kiss. As though the words spoken were magic, Finn released a stream of warmth onto Kurt's belly, causing the Englishman to shudder as his own orgasm ripped through his body.
With his energy gone, Finn slumped forward, barely keeping his body from crushing the smaller man beneath him. Reaching his hands out, Kurt grabbed at Finn's shoulders, twisting and pushing the other man to his back. The soldier let out a small huff as his back hit the soft bed, but allowed himself to be manhandled by his husband.
Once he had Finn how he wanted him, Kurt snuggled close, letting the beat of his husband's heart and the warmth of his body soothe him into slumber. Finn smiled softly at the man in his arms, pulling him closer to his body before pressing a kiss into his hair and letting the rhythmic breaths blowing across his neck lull him into sleep.
Finn's official homecoming would come later—after they slept, after they made love again, after they bathed and redress—when Carole was home from work and Rachel, Noah, and Blaine had descended upon the house for dinner. But right now, they were going to enjoy their own private homecoming, which was more than just Finn's. It was Kurt's homecoming as well, for it didn't matter how long Kurt had lived in his husband's home or the number of friends he had managed to make, the Englishman hadn't felt as though Victoria was his home, simply because he was missing the one person to make it home. And now that Finn was here, Kurt could finally think of this place home. While the war might not be over, that didn't matter, for they were both finally where they belonged.