Fic: Taking It Back (7/?)
Title-Taking It Back
Rating- PG-13/T
Summary- After the meeting at Scandals, Dave and Kurt attempt a friendship, much to the behest of everything around them.
Pairings- Kurtofsky, Klaine, Seblaine, Santofsky, others
Warnings- Infidelity, vague mentions of sex, rating may rise in the future
As glorious as it was to be off of school, Christmas break had already reached that all too familiar interval in which everything just got insufferably boring. Christmas itself was over, as was their eight days of lighting the menorah and having more family members over than the house could hold and Natasha could cook for. Truthfully, Dave had loved every minute of it, but now that everything had settled down he had begun to actually long for school to start again so that he could get back in the swing of just finishing it already. There was only one semester left of high school, after all, and that thought alone both excited and frustrated him.
Matters were not improved by the fact that Kurt had stopped logging on as much online. When he did, it was only long enough to exchange a few quickly worded sentences and then he would be gone just as quickly as he had come. Dave had most assuredly spent a day or two obsessing over this, trying to wrack his brain for what he possibly might have said or done to piss him off, but he was more or less put at ease for his own innocence when Kurt assured him over the phone one night he had done nothing wrong.
Nevertheless, Kurt wasn’t spilling about whatever it was that was bothering him. As curious and as worried as Dave was, he respected his friend’s need for distance and gave him just that. Sure, it had occurred to him once or twice that maybe Kurt wanted him to pry- part of that whole ‘fight for her’ speech he gave about Holiday Inn- but Dave was able to stave that off rather well with the reminder that he was not the type of guy Kurt wanted fighting for him, romantically or otherwise. Dave was the type of guy Kurt was generous enough to forgive and allow a friendship with, and that was the end of it. He had already made it blatantly clear once before that Dave was not his type- as if his prep school boyfriend was not evidence enough of that.
So he didn’t dare push those boundaries. Kurt set the standards, Kurt made the first moves, and Dave followed those. He wasn’t about to screw up one of the best friendships he ever had just because of a stupid crush or a sudden bout of presumption.
Then again, he hadn’t seen Kurt at all for most of the break, so when he was once more on Facebook and saw him log on, he didn’t waste any time.
‘look whos back’
‘Hey, yogi. Sorry I’ve been sort of AWOL lately. You’re not mad at me are you?’
Dave laughed.
‘lol no way dude. i was pretty sure u were mad at me’
‘Oh, David, ever the martyr. I’m not mad at you, I promise. Now don’t suggest it again.’
‘yessir. so hey i was wondering what u were doing 4 new years eve’
He had typed this out faster than he could have thought it over, afraid that if he lingered on the idea he might rethink it.
‘At the moment, I have a very pressing engagement with a bottle of spiked eggnog and a Desperate Housewives DVD.’
‘that sounds…fun…’
‘No it doesn’t, it sounds pathetic and you know it.’
‘im guessing bland i mean blaine has family stuff again?’
He didn’t really mind pointing out the douchebaggetry of Blaine, however. If there was any hope at all of convincing Kurt that his boyfriend was an asshole, Dave would be the first to take advantage of it.
‘How ever did you know?’
‘lucky guess. so what if instead of doing that u come w/ me and santana and brittany 2 the new years thing at scandals’
The pause in Kurt’s response made Dave want to jump out of his window in utter regret. Before he could do so, however, the reply was sent.
‘Well, I can’t say I’m a huge fan of that place. I recognize that it’s given you a safe haven, which I think is wonderful, but I just don’t know if seedy gay bars are my thing.’
Yeah, he thought as much. So much for even thinking that would go over in his favor.
‘where r u going 2 hang out during college then?’ Dave joked, hoping it would distract the both of them from his pathetic rejection.
Once again, Kurt was suspiciously slow in answering back and when he did, it made everything significantly more confusing.
‘You know what? Fine, I’d love to go with you guys. I guess I better get used to hanging out in places like that.’
‘whoa dude it was just a joke i didnt mean 2 imply anything…’
‘For crying out loud, David, I’m not mad. I want to go. When will you pick me up?’
It was at that moment that he hated IM more than anything. How in the world was he supposed to tell if Kurt was actually upset or not?
‘i guess i can come get u around 8 or 9, if thats ok but u rly dont have 2 come’
‘Do you want me to be there or not?’
‘i want u 2 b there if you will enjoy urself and have fun not if youre doing it 2 prove a point or be passive aggressive’
‘I’m not, I promise. Now can I come along, please?’
‘of course.’
‘Good. I’ve gotta go for a bit, see you later.’
And then he logged off.
And Dave spent the rest of evening trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.-----------------------------------
“I have no idea why you’re asking me, anyway. Hummel has always been whinier than a 14 year old girl. Maybe it was just his time of the month.”
“Kurt has ladytimes too?”
“No, Brittany, it was just a figure of speech.”
Dave sighed as Santana continued to try to explain her meaning to Brittany in the rather small backseat of his truck. He tuned out completely, cursing himself for ever thinking that they could be of any help. Anyway, whatever was bothering Kurt would no doubt come to light that evening while they spent copious amounts of time with each other. Dave wanted to be excited about the prospect of this, but all he could really do was dread how everything would pan out.
“I think I know why Kurt is upset!” Brittany suddenly announced. Dave and Santana goaded her to continue with intrigued looks (Dave’s, from the rearview mirror). “He’s probably just mad that you haven’t told him you loved him yet.”
Dave risked the danger in turning to glare over his shoulder at Santana.
“Tana, what the fuck.”
“Calm your man-tits, Karofsky, Britts can keep a secret.”
“You should never keep something like that a secret,” Brittany said. “What if you or Kurt dies tomorrow and you never told him how you felt?”
Dave scoffed. “Well, if I’m dead it won’t make much of a difference, will it?”
“Oh yes it will!” Brittany insisted. “Then you’ll have to watch Kurt from heaven as he lives the rest of his life never knowing how you felt about him.”
Dave smiled a little, hoping neither of the girls would see it.
“You think I’m going to heaven, Brittany?”
“Of course you are. Even angels make mistakes and behave badly sometimes. I know because I’m sure Lord Tubbington is an angel and he sometimes poops outside of his litter box and scratches up the furniture. Besides, you’ve been like an angel to Santana since you became friends, so I don’t see why you wouldn’t be allowed in. Of course, you won’t get wings right away. I takes a while for an angel to earn those.”
“I know. First, I’ve got to be able to convince George Bailey that Bedford Falls would have been a terrible place without him.”
Santana laughed and Brittany just blinked.
“No, Clarence already did that.”
It was about that time that Dave was pulling up and parking at the front curb of the Hudson-Hummel household, so he was able to safely turn around and give Brittany a pat on the arm.
“I’m just messing with you, Pierce.”
As he got out to go up and ring the doorbell, he ignored Santana’s wolf whistle and subsequent holler of, “Whoo, go Dave! Charm
the fuck out of him!”
‘Goddamn, I hope he didn’t hear that.’
That particular fear soon flew out the window when he actually rang the doorbell, remembering that it was quite possible Burt Hummel could answer and who knew what would go down then. Did he even know his son was hanging out with his former tormentor, much less letting said tormentor take him to a gay bar?
Thankfully, it was Kurt that came to the door instead- looking particularly hot, if Dave was totally honest. He had on some kind of white dress shirt with a grey vest, tight black pants and those fucking hot-as-hell black boots that went up to the knee. He could tell already that he was going to have a hard time keeping his eyes averted tonight.
“Hey,” Kurt greeted him flatly, already brushing past him and heading on his way towards the truck.
“Uh…hey…” Dave answered, taken back once more at his strange behavior.
He took notice of the fact that Kurt was struggling somewhat to shrug himself into his black peacoat, so Dave stopped him and proceeded to give him a hand.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, trying to keep his cool as his hands glided past Kurt’s upper arms and shoulders in his effort to get the coat on.
“Everything’s absolutely fine, Dave. I really wish you wouldn’t be so paranoid.”
Dave may have been slow up on the uptake when it came to social cues, but even he knew Kurt was far from being absolutely fine.
Santana seemed to think as much too, because when Kurt sort of threw himself into the passenger seat and halfheartedly greeted her and Brittany, she sent Dave a look that basically communicated something was definitely rotten in Denmark and that he’d better be extra sweet to Kurt tonight.
He hoped a sufficient amount of alcohol might take care of things where he couldn’t.--------------------------------
When they arrived and successfully got past George (the bouncer, with whom Dave had already become friends) with their ridiculously fake IDs, Santana and Brittany immediately peeled off to go and try to convince some of the patrons that they were guys in drag.
No, Dave didn’t approve of the idea one bit, but it was a hell of a lot better than their earlier plan to try to actually dress up as gay guys and see who they could fool. He had vetoed that idea pretty much the moment it had occurred to Santana and warned her that if they did it, he would get George to make them stay outside in the cold. She had whined, as per usual, but gave in.
Kurt, on the other hand, seemed to make a mad dash for the bar. When his first order was a shot of tequila, Dave knew he was going to have to keep him on a short leash tonight.
And damn him for the mental images that phrase conjured.
“Hey, man, why don’t you slow down a little?” Dave asked light heartedly when Kurt downed the first and demanded another.
“Why?” he snapped back. “Isn’t this New Year’s Eve? Isn’t this a sleazy bar? What am I supposed to do, Karofsky, not drink?”
Dave recoiled a little. Normally, he wouldn’t have even blinked at being called Karofsky. Sometimes, he suspected, people forgot altogether that he even had a first name.
But not Kurt. Kurt hadn’t called him that since the bullying officially stopped, which was more than a year ago at this point. His insistent use of ‘David’ or ‘Dave’ or the affectionate ‘Yogi’ meant a lot to him, because it suggested that someone thought of him as something more than just the big dumb jock.
So the fact that Kurt was suddenly putting this moniker to use again deeply troubled him.
Dave put his hand over the re-filled shot glass and pulled it away before Kurt could finish that round too.
“Seriously, dude, enough of this,” he said firmly. “What is going on with you? And please don’t give me a shit answer.”
Kurt narrowed his piercing blue eyes at him, causing his heart to flutter slightly in a mixture of fear and utter, pathetic adoration.
“You wanna know, Dave? You wanna know what the fuck is wrong with me?”
“Uh…yeah, I believe that’s what I just said.”
“I got rejected, that’s what. My Dad had been hiding the letter from NYADA from me in the hopes that it wouldn’t ruin my holiday, but I found it and I now I know, for sure, that I’ll never be going to New York. I’m going to be stuck in this hick town for the rest of my life, so I might as well start learning to act like all the rest of the pathetic, closeted gays in here and just drink my fallen dreams away, right?”
Dave was struck silent. His comment about hanging out in bars during college, which at the time seemed funny, was now just inescapably stupid. How could he have fucked up so easily?
“Kurt…I’m sorry-”
“I didn’t even get an audition…” Kurt continued, the tears welling up in eyes more than evident. “Not an interview, not anything, just a flat-out no.”
“Maybe I should take you home…” Dave offered, at a complete loss of anything else to do. “We don’t have to be-“
“No! I’m not going to spend another night wallowing in self-pity about this alone in my room. I’m going to get completely and utterly soused, I’m going to grind against some crotches and for one night I’m going to act like nothing is wrong. Tonight, I’m not a hopeless loser with no future, just a drunken idiot with no self-respect.”
He then took the shot glass back, finished what was left, and headed out onto the dance floor where he immediately began his crotch-grinding.
Dave, on the other hand, didn’t know what the hell to do aside from just follow his emotionally-wrecked friend around for the night and make sure he didn’t get into any trouble. This he did, having to grind against a few crotches himself in order to remain inconspicuous. And here he had been, thinking he was actually going to enjoy himself tonight- with the guy he liked, no less.
So much for that.
This continued for the better part of an hour or so before he saw Santana again. She grabbed his arm the moment he had come to the bar for a beer break.
“Do you happen to know what triangle-brows is doing here?” she whispered rather frantically.
He whipped his head in the direction she was pointing to see that Blaine Anderson was, in fact, in the bar with them. But Kurt, he noticed, was on the other side of the room, still dirty-dancing against random men and otherwise completely oblivious to his boyfriend’s presence. Blaine seemed to be equally unawares, as he was currently on his way to what was vaguely referred to as the back rooms (understood as the in-bar hook up locale), with a shit-eating grin on his face.
In that moment, Dave’s suspicions were confirmed and it couldn’t have come at a worse time.
“Can you watch Kurt? He doesn’t seem to know hair-gel is here, so try to keep it that way.” He muttered back.
Santana sighed dramatically before agreeing to do so, and once he got that confirmation from her Dave didn’t waste any time.
He had Blaine by the collar and upper arm quicker than either of them realized, and was tossing him out the back door with him just as swiftly.
When the dust settled and the two were able to get a good enough look at each other, Blaine just stared and breathed heavily.
“Karofsky…?” he asked, somewhere between disbelief and disgust. “What are you-“
“Don’t even go there. This isn’t about me, this is about you and your very drunk, depressed boyfriend back in the bar who can’t seem to figure out why he’s being treated like utter shit.”
Blaine’s face suddenly went white.
“Wait, what? Kurt’s inside?”
“He damn well is. There wouldn’t be a problem with that, would there?”
Dave glared at him, daring the little uppity shit to confess what he already knew. Instead, Blaine just glared back, though his obvious fear somewhat lessened his effort to be intimidating- sort of like when a cat arches it’s back and hisses.
“Look…this is between me and Kurt.”
Dave laughed and shook his head.
“It would be fucking nice if that were true, wouldn’t it? But it’s not. See, Anderson, when you start fucking people behind the back of someone like Kurt, you’re not just hurting him- you’re hurting all of the people who actually give a shit about him, too. I’ve had to deal with the fall out of your fuckery for awhile now, but if you think I’m just going to sit around and watch you make a fool out of him then you clearly don’t know me from a hole in the ground.”
Blaine narrowed his eyes and walked up closer, as if trying to continually show that he wasn’t afraid (and failing miserably, as far as Dave as concerned).
“What is this?” he growled in a near whisper. “This thing…whatever it is, between you and Kurt. Is this some effort on your part to try to make up for what you did to him? Are you trying to compensate for the fact that you can’t publicly own who you are by hanging out with someone like him? Is this supposed to make it all better or something?”
Dave grit his jaw shut, clinging desperately to the anger management techniques his therapist taught him.
“Don’t turn this around. You’re the one who’s obviously fucking that Sebastian guy and god knows who else behind his back.”
“And you’re the one who made him transfer schools!” Blaine shouted. “You’re the one who threatened to kill him! Who are you to preach to me?”
He wanted to punch him. He wanted to hurt Blaine Anderson so very bad in that moment. But instead he remained, fists clenched so tight he swore his nails were starting to break the skin of his palms.
“Alright,” Dave managed, trying to keep his tears at bay. “So we’re both terrible people. But at least I had the balls to admit to him I was wrong. He still thinks you’re his fucking heaven sent miracle, the only thing that fucking makes him worthwhile. He thinks that about you, Anderson. Now if that doesn’t churn your guts even a little bit, then I’ll be happy to make them do it for you. Me? I’m just this fat, hopeless loser he felt like forgiving. I’ve been so lucky to able to call him my friend, too, but at least I’ve never set himself up for disappointment. At least I’ve never been so fucking self-absorbed as to make him think he could expect more out of me than a big dumb closeted jock.”
Blaine seemed to falter, as if remembering his guilt fully. His defensiveness abandoned, he proceeded to lean against the outside brick wall of the bar.
“I didn’t want to hurt him,” he said softly. “I never wanted to do that. This…this thing that started with Sebastian…I don’t know, it hit me like a ton of bricks and once I started I couldn’t stop…it was never about Kurt.”
Dave found himself easing ever so slowly out of his building contempt, but it didn’t stop him from making one last snap at Blaine.
“Of course it wasn’t about Kurt. If it was ever about him you wouldn’t have started to begin with.”
Surprisingly, Blaine just nodded without complaint.
“Now, I just don’t know what to do.”
“Well, I’ll tell you what you do. You tell Kurt everything and then you explain to him he deserves so much better and then you let him go find someone who can give that to him.”
Blaine looked up at Dave then, his expression having changed from sad and resigned to puzzled and suspicious.
“Honestly, though, why do you care so much about this?” he asked. “This can’t all just be one effort to make things up to him for your past history…”
Dave said nothing and avoided eye contact, but this alone was more telling than anything else could have been.
Suddenly Blaine inhaled sharply.
“Oh…you’re in love with him.”
It was something he knew quite well, sure, but to hear someone say it out loud was almost like getting a punch of reality to the face. In fact, he wasn’t sure he had ever even admitted to himself out loud- it was just something that he had been aware of for quite a while now. Maybe he never voiced it, even to himself, because he knew how utterly futile and inconsequential it was. What was the point of being in love with someone he was not remotely worthy of? Brittany might argue that love is important and never frivolous, even if the other person doesn’t feel the same way, but Dave couldn’t say he entirely agreed with her logic. It still hurt like hell either way.
“Have you told him yet?” Blaine asked in a near-whisper.
“He’s hopelessly in love with you and, like you said, I’m the guy who made his life a living hell. What do you think?”
“You should tell him anyway. He deserves to know.”
Dave was about to rally back at him the question of ‘when did you become so concerned with what Kurt deserves?’ when the back door of the bar suddenly opened, completely cutting him off.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, Sebastian walked out. Followed by a stumbling Kurt.
“David?” Kurt said bewilderedly, his eyes darting frantically between the two of them. “Blaine?”
Blaine gasped, obviously in a similar state of panic. “I…I can explain everything, I promise.”
“You were supposed to be in Indiana, Blaine,” Kurt pointed out, his surprise slowly morphing into subtle rage. “You were supposed to be in Indiana with relatives. This doesn’t fucking look like Indiana to me. What the hell are you doing here with him?”
Kurt, of course, meant Sebastian who continued to watch the scene unfold with amusement.
Dave was completely and wholly frozen in place, not sure what to say or do or if doing so would even help anything. He instead chose to keep quiet and wait for the inevitable moment when he would have to run to Kurt’s aid.
Blaine must have sent Sebastian a pleading look that Dave couldn’t see, because it was at that moment that he spoke up.
“I’d like to point out that I’m doing this for everyone’s sake. The sooner we get this matter over with, the better.”
“Who the fuck are you decide that?” Dave said, not being shy about getting up into Sebastian’s smarmy face. “This was none of your goddamn business.”
“It’s probably no more your goddamn business than it is mine, Karofsky, but that certainly hasn’t stopped you.”
Blaine and Kurt were both a bit taken back that they seemed to know each other, but it was the latter of the two that reacted to this by pulling Dave back to face him.
“You knew about this?” he asked incredulously, seemingly having already made up his mind that Dave did. “You knew about this and you didn’t tell me? Why?”
“What? No! You have to believe me when I tell you that I just found out about this.”
Kurt wasn’t convinced in the slightest. He sent everyone present a tearful glare before darting rather drunkenly back inside the bar.
Dave followed, completely apathetic to Blaine and Sebastian.-------------------------------
Santana had been properly apologetic for losing Kurt so easily, but that certainly wasn’t going to help Dave out now as he drove with her and Brittany slowly down the road back to Lima, searching through the darkness for any sign of him. They only had George’s word to go on at this point, which was that Kurt had fled the bar completely.
“Try calling his cell phone again,” Dave said to either girl who would.
Brittany did so, announcing not long after that she was still only getting voicemail.
It was around that time that Santana, who was sitting in the passenger’s seat, turned ever so slightly to him and whispered in her secretively sincere tone of voice,
“Dave, I’m so sorry.”
He wasn’t sure if she was apologizing for losing Kurt or expressing her regret for the fact that this entire evening had blown up in his face. Perhaps it was both of those things.
Either way, he didn’t want to let her think that he held any disdain towards her for what had happened, so he squeezed her hand quickly in reassurance and continued scanning the pitch black road.
They continued onward an uncomfortably long amount of time with no indication of him whatsoever, until Brittany finally spotted something on the side of the road. Had it been even 10 minutes earlier, Dave might have disregarded this as her having just spotted a dead animal or something of the like, but his desperation had reached a crisis point, so he put the truck in park and clambered out of it without even turning off the engine.
Thankfully, he didn’t have to go far off the road. The distinct image of Kurt lying sprawled out in the grass, illuminated by his headlights, was made clearer the closer he got.
“Oh fuck,” he cursed, collapsing on to his knees beside him to make sure he was only passed out and nothing more. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”
As soon as the vital signs had been determined to be operational, Dave hoisted Kurt up into his arms and set back towards the truck. The sheer adrenaline pumping through him kept any fatigue at bay, though he was sure he’d be feeling the residual ache from tonight’s activity in the morning.
“Is he dead?” Brittany asked almost the moment Dave opened the door to the passenger side and laid Kurt down beside her.
“No, Britt, he’s not dead, but thanks for asking.”
The two of them then set to work trying to get him to wake up, patting his face and gently shaking him, while Santana brought up an excellent point.
“Fuck, maybe we should take him to the emergency room. What if he hit his head or something?”
“Let’s get him to my place,” Dave said decisively. “My sister’s a nurse and she hasn’t gone back home yet.”
Brittany and Santana didn’t argue with this as Dave left Kurt in the back for Brittany to continue to try to revive and he returned to the driver’s seat to get them back into town as quickly as possible.------------------------------------------
Kurt had jostled awake about halfway to Dave’s house, still drunk and furious as ever, but thankfully not hurt.
Dave still had Natasha look him over, just to confirm that he hadn’t harmed himself in any way on his very soused attempt to walk home. When she had determined that he hadn’t, Santana and Brittany got another ride home and wished Dave the best of luck with however things turned out.
Kurt, on the other hand, was staunchly refusing to speak to him at all. Any correspondence on his part was sent through Natasha, and so it was she he informed that he wanted to be taken home.
Natasha laughed.
“Honey, do you really want your parents to see you like this?”
Even in his drunken state, Kurt was able to rethink his abrupt decision.
“Well, where am I supposed to go? I’m not staying here with him,” he said, pointing accusingly at Dave.
“Why not?” Natasha asked, perplexed.
“Because he knew my boyfriend was screwing someone else behind my back and he said nothing!”
“Dude!” Dave exclaimed. “I didn’t know until five minutes before that Sebastian asshole sent you out there! I was out there giving your precious boyfriend a piece of my mind.”
Kurt sent him a glare that would have made him immediately drop if looks could actually kill, but before he could potentially say anything, Natasha intervened.
“Boys! Let’s just calm down for a second, yeah? Kurt, I honestly don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go home like this and Dave doesn’t really look like he’s in a good state to drive. How about I call your Dad and ask him if it’s alright if you spend the night here? I’ll just tell him you and Dave wanted to hang out.”
“Fine,” Kurt conceded. “But I’m not actually going to hang out with him.”
Dave scoffed. “Yeah, well somebody’s got to show you to your room and I’d hate to see you tumbling down the stairs, so you’re going to have to deal with me for a little while longer.”
Before Kurt could protest at all, Dave had picked him once more and begun carting him up the staircase to the second floor guestroom.
“I could have slept on the couch!” Kurt shrieked, wiggling far too dangerously.
“Would you stop already? You’re going to kill us both.”
“Not if you break my fall, fat ass.”
Dave grit his teeth from both the weight and the pain of Kurt’s choice of words, so when they finally reached said bedroom, it was perhaps no accident that he flopped him down on the mattress with less care than he probably would have otherwise.
“Look,” Dave said, cutting off whatever Kurt was planning to spew at him next. “I know I’ve hurt you. I know I haven’t given you everything you deserved or wanted in the past, but does it not matter one fucking bit that I’ve been trying so hard to make it up to you? To show you that I’m not just a dumb asshole? See, here I was thinking it all meant something and then the moment it even looks like I’ve fucked up you just assume that I have without even hearing my side of the story. Again, you say you’ve forgiven me but I don’t think you really have and I’d rather you just be honest with yourself and me and admit that somewhere deep down you still think I’m just going to fuck you over.”
Kurt was silent, staring at him with wide, bloodshot eyes.
“Whatever,” Dave sighed. “I’m not kidding anybody. You don’t owe me anything, much less that. I guess sometimes there are things you just can’t fix. Sorry, Kurt. Just go to bed and then you can leave and we don’t have to see each other again. This was a stupid mistake anyway.”
And with that, Dave exited the room and slammed the door shut, leaving Kurt completely speechless.
Rating- PG-13/T
Summary- After the meeting at Scandals, Dave and Kurt attempt a friendship, much to the behest of everything around them.
Pairings- Kurtofsky, Klaine, Seblaine, Santofsky, others
Warnings- Infidelity, vague mentions of sex, rating may rise in the future
As glorious as it was to be off of school, Christmas break had already reached that all too familiar interval in which everything just got insufferably boring. Christmas itself was over, as was their eight days of lighting the menorah and having more family members over than the house could hold and Natasha could cook for. Truthfully, Dave had loved every minute of it, but now that everything had settled down he had begun to actually long for school to start again so that he could get back in the swing of just finishing it already. There was only one semester left of high school, after all, and that thought alone both excited and frustrated him.
Matters were not improved by the fact that Kurt had stopped logging on as much online. When he did, it was only long enough to exchange a few quickly worded sentences and then he would be gone just as quickly as he had come. Dave had most assuredly spent a day or two obsessing over this, trying to wrack his brain for what he possibly might have said or done to piss him off, but he was more or less put at ease for his own innocence when Kurt assured him over the phone one night he had done nothing wrong.
Nevertheless, Kurt wasn’t spilling about whatever it was that was bothering him. As curious and as worried as Dave was, he respected his friend’s need for distance and gave him just that. Sure, it had occurred to him once or twice that maybe Kurt wanted him to pry- part of that whole ‘fight for her’ speech he gave about Holiday Inn- but Dave was able to stave that off rather well with the reminder that he was not the type of guy Kurt wanted fighting for him, romantically or otherwise. Dave was the type of guy Kurt was generous enough to forgive and allow a friendship with, and that was the end of it. He had already made it blatantly clear once before that Dave was not his type- as if his prep school boyfriend was not evidence enough of that.
So he didn’t dare push those boundaries. Kurt set the standards, Kurt made the first moves, and Dave followed those. He wasn’t about to screw up one of the best friendships he ever had just because of a stupid crush or a sudden bout of presumption.
Then again, he hadn’t seen Kurt at all for most of the break, so when he was once more on Facebook and saw him log on, he didn’t waste any time.
‘look whos back’
‘Hey, yogi. Sorry I’ve been sort of AWOL lately. You’re not mad at me are you?’
Dave laughed.
‘lol no way dude. i was pretty sure u were mad at me’
‘Oh, David, ever the martyr. I’m not mad at you, I promise. Now don’t suggest it again.’
‘yessir. so hey i was wondering what u were doing 4 new years eve’
He had typed this out faster than he could have thought it over, afraid that if he lingered on the idea he might rethink it.
‘At the moment, I have a very pressing engagement with a bottle of spiked eggnog and a Desperate Housewives DVD.’
‘that sounds…fun…’
‘No it doesn’t, it sounds pathetic and you know it.’
‘im guessing bland i mean blaine has family stuff again?’
He didn’t really mind pointing out the douchebaggetry of Blaine, however. If there was any hope at all of convincing Kurt that his boyfriend was an asshole, Dave would be the first to take advantage of it.
‘How ever did you know?’
‘lucky guess. so what if instead of doing that u come w/ me and santana and brittany 2 the new years thing at scandals’
The pause in Kurt’s response made Dave want to jump out of his window in utter regret. Before he could do so, however, the reply was sent.
‘Well, I can’t say I’m a huge fan of that place. I recognize that it’s given you a safe haven, which I think is wonderful, but I just don’t know if seedy gay bars are my thing.’
Yeah, he thought as much. So much for even thinking that would go over in his favor.
‘where r u going 2 hang out during college then?’ Dave joked, hoping it would distract the both of them from his pathetic rejection.
Once again, Kurt was suspiciously slow in answering back and when he did, it made everything significantly more confusing.
‘You know what? Fine, I’d love to go with you guys. I guess I better get used to hanging out in places like that.’
‘whoa dude it was just a joke i didnt mean 2 imply anything…’
‘For crying out loud, David, I’m not mad. I want to go. When will you pick me up?’
It was at that moment that he hated IM more than anything. How in the world was he supposed to tell if Kurt was actually upset or not?
‘i guess i can come get u around 8 or 9, if thats ok but u rly dont have 2 come’
‘Do you want me to be there or not?’
‘i want u 2 b there if you will enjoy urself and have fun not if youre doing it 2 prove a point or be passive aggressive’
‘I’m not, I promise. Now can I come along, please?’
‘of course.’
‘Good. I’ve gotta go for a bit, see you later.’
And then he logged off.
And Dave spent the rest of evening trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.-----------------------------------
“I have no idea why you’re asking me, anyway. Hummel has always been whinier than a 14 year old girl. Maybe it was just his time of the month.”
“Kurt has ladytimes too?”
“No, Brittany, it was just a figure of speech.”
Dave sighed as Santana continued to try to explain her meaning to Brittany in the rather small backseat of his truck. He tuned out completely, cursing himself for ever thinking that they could be of any help. Anyway, whatever was bothering Kurt would no doubt come to light that evening while they spent copious amounts of time with each other. Dave wanted to be excited about the prospect of this, but all he could really do was dread how everything would pan out.
“I think I know why Kurt is upset!” Brittany suddenly announced. Dave and Santana goaded her to continue with intrigued looks (Dave’s, from the rearview mirror). “He’s probably just mad that you haven’t told him you loved him yet.”
Dave risked the danger in turning to glare over his shoulder at Santana.
“Tana, what the fuck.”
“Calm your man-tits, Karofsky, Britts can keep a secret.”
“You should never keep something like that a secret,” Brittany said. “What if you or Kurt dies tomorrow and you never told him how you felt?”
Dave scoffed. “Well, if I’m dead it won’t make much of a difference, will it?”
“Oh yes it will!” Brittany insisted. “Then you’ll have to watch Kurt from heaven as he lives the rest of his life never knowing how you felt about him.”
Dave smiled a little, hoping neither of the girls would see it.
“You think I’m going to heaven, Brittany?”
“Of course you are. Even angels make mistakes and behave badly sometimes. I know because I’m sure Lord Tubbington is an angel and he sometimes poops outside of his litter box and scratches up the furniture. Besides, you’ve been like an angel to Santana since you became friends, so I don’t see why you wouldn’t be allowed in. Of course, you won’t get wings right away. I takes a while for an angel to earn those.”
“I know. First, I’ve got to be able to convince George Bailey that Bedford Falls would have been a terrible place without him.”
Santana laughed and Brittany just blinked.
“No, Clarence already did that.”
It was about that time that Dave was pulling up and parking at the front curb of the Hudson-Hummel household, so he was able to safely turn around and give Brittany a pat on the arm.
“I’m just messing with you, Pierce.”
As he got out to go up and ring the doorbell, he ignored Santana’s wolf whistle and subsequent holler of, “Whoo, go Dave! Charm
the fuck out of him!”
‘Goddamn, I hope he didn’t hear that.’
That particular fear soon flew out the window when he actually rang the doorbell, remembering that it was quite possible Burt Hummel could answer and who knew what would go down then. Did he even know his son was hanging out with his former tormentor, much less letting said tormentor take him to a gay bar?
Thankfully, it was Kurt that came to the door instead- looking particularly hot, if Dave was totally honest. He had on some kind of white dress shirt with a grey vest, tight black pants and those fucking hot-as-hell black boots that went up to the knee. He could tell already that he was going to have a hard time keeping his eyes averted tonight.
“Hey,” Kurt greeted him flatly, already brushing past him and heading on his way towards the truck.
“Uh…hey…” Dave answered, taken back once more at his strange behavior.
He took notice of the fact that Kurt was struggling somewhat to shrug himself into his black peacoat, so Dave stopped him and proceeded to give him a hand.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, trying to keep his cool as his hands glided past Kurt’s upper arms and shoulders in his effort to get the coat on.
“Everything’s absolutely fine, Dave. I really wish you wouldn’t be so paranoid.”
Dave may have been slow up on the uptake when it came to social cues, but even he knew Kurt was far from being absolutely fine.
Santana seemed to think as much too, because when Kurt sort of threw himself into the passenger seat and halfheartedly greeted her and Brittany, she sent Dave a look that basically communicated something was definitely rotten in Denmark and that he’d better be extra sweet to Kurt tonight.
He hoped a sufficient amount of alcohol might take care of things where he couldn’t.--------------------------------
When they arrived and successfully got past George (the bouncer, with whom Dave had already become friends) with their ridiculously fake IDs, Santana and Brittany immediately peeled off to go and try to convince some of the patrons that they were guys in drag.
No, Dave didn’t approve of the idea one bit, but it was a hell of a lot better than their earlier plan to try to actually dress up as gay guys and see who they could fool. He had vetoed that idea pretty much the moment it had occurred to Santana and warned her that if they did it, he would get George to make them stay outside in the cold. She had whined, as per usual, but gave in.
Kurt, on the other hand, seemed to make a mad dash for the bar. When his first order was a shot of tequila, Dave knew he was going to have to keep him on a short leash tonight.
And damn him for the mental images that phrase conjured.
“Hey, man, why don’t you slow down a little?” Dave asked light heartedly when Kurt downed the first and demanded another.
“Why?” he snapped back. “Isn’t this New Year’s Eve? Isn’t this a sleazy bar? What am I supposed to do, Karofsky, not drink?”
Dave recoiled a little. Normally, he wouldn’t have even blinked at being called Karofsky. Sometimes, he suspected, people forgot altogether that he even had a first name.
But not Kurt. Kurt hadn’t called him that since the bullying officially stopped, which was more than a year ago at this point. His insistent use of ‘David’ or ‘Dave’ or the affectionate ‘Yogi’ meant a lot to him, because it suggested that someone thought of him as something more than just the big dumb jock.
So the fact that Kurt was suddenly putting this moniker to use again deeply troubled him.
Dave put his hand over the re-filled shot glass and pulled it away before Kurt could finish that round too.
“Seriously, dude, enough of this,” he said firmly. “What is going on with you? And please don’t give me a shit answer.”
Kurt narrowed his piercing blue eyes at him, causing his heart to flutter slightly in a mixture of fear and utter, pathetic adoration.
“You wanna know, Dave? You wanna know what the fuck is wrong with me?”
“Uh…yeah, I believe that’s what I just said.”
“I got rejected, that’s what. My Dad had been hiding the letter from NYADA from me in the hopes that it wouldn’t ruin my holiday, but I found it and I now I know, for sure, that I’ll never be going to New York. I’m going to be stuck in this hick town for the rest of my life, so I might as well start learning to act like all the rest of the pathetic, closeted gays in here and just drink my fallen dreams away, right?”
Dave was struck silent. His comment about hanging out in bars during college, which at the time seemed funny, was now just inescapably stupid. How could he have fucked up so easily?
“Kurt…I’m sorry-”
“I didn’t even get an audition…” Kurt continued, the tears welling up in eyes more than evident. “Not an interview, not anything, just a flat-out no.”
“Maybe I should take you home…” Dave offered, at a complete loss of anything else to do. “We don’t have to be-“
“No! I’m not going to spend another night wallowing in self-pity about this alone in my room. I’m going to get completely and utterly soused, I’m going to grind against some crotches and for one night I’m going to act like nothing is wrong. Tonight, I’m not a hopeless loser with no future, just a drunken idiot with no self-respect.”
He then took the shot glass back, finished what was left, and headed out onto the dance floor where he immediately began his crotch-grinding.
Dave, on the other hand, didn’t know what the hell to do aside from just follow his emotionally-wrecked friend around for the night and make sure he didn’t get into any trouble. This he did, having to grind against a few crotches himself in order to remain inconspicuous. And here he had been, thinking he was actually going to enjoy himself tonight- with the guy he liked, no less.
So much for that.
This continued for the better part of an hour or so before he saw Santana again. She grabbed his arm the moment he had come to the bar for a beer break.
“Do you happen to know what triangle-brows is doing here?” she whispered rather frantically.
He whipped his head in the direction she was pointing to see that Blaine Anderson was, in fact, in the bar with them. But Kurt, he noticed, was on the other side of the room, still dirty-dancing against random men and otherwise completely oblivious to his boyfriend’s presence. Blaine seemed to be equally unawares, as he was currently on his way to what was vaguely referred to as the back rooms (understood as the in-bar hook up locale), with a shit-eating grin on his face.
In that moment, Dave’s suspicions were confirmed and it couldn’t have come at a worse time.
“Can you watch Kurt? He doesn’t seem to know hair-gel is here, so try to keep it that way.” He muttered back.
Santana sighed dramatically before agreeing to do so, and once he got that confirmation from her Dave didn’t waste any time.
He had Blaine by the collar and upper arm quicker than either of them realized, and was tossing him out the back door with him just as swiftly.
When the dust settled and the two were able to get a good enough look at each other, Blaine just stared and breathed heavily.
“Karofsky…?” he asked, somewhere between disbelief and disgust. “What are you-“
“Don’t even go there. This isn’t about me, this is about you and your very drunk, depressed boyfriend back in the bar who can’t seem to figure out why he’s being treated like utter shit.”
Blaine’s face suddenly went white.
“Wait, what? Kurt’s inside?”
“He damn well is. There wouldn’t be a problem with that, would there?”
Dave glared at him, daring the little uppity shit to confess what he already knew. Instead, Blaine just glared back, though his obvious fear somewhat lessened his effort to be intimidating- sort of like when a cat arches it’s back and hisses.
“Look…this is between me and Kurt.”
Dave laughed and shook his head.
“It would be fucking nice if that were true, wouldn’t it? But it’s not. See, Anderson, when you start fucking people behind the back of someone like Kurt, you’re not just hurting him- you’re hurting all of the people who actually give a shit about him, too. I’ve had to deal with the fall out of your fuckery for awhile now, but if you think I’m just going to sit around and watch you make a fool out of him then you clearly don’t know me from a hole in the ground.”
Blaine narrowed his eyes and walked up closer, as if trying to continually show that he wasn’t afraid (and failing miserably, as far as Dave as concerned).
“What is this?” he growled in a near whisper. “This thing…whatever it is, between you and Kurt. Is this some effort on your part to try to make up for what you did to him? Are you trying to compensate for the fact that you can’t publicly own who you are by hanging out with someone like him? Is this supposed to make it all better or something?”
Dave grit his jaw shut, clinging desperately to the anger management techniques his therapist taught him.
“Don’t turn this around. You’re the one who’s obviously fucking that Sebastian guy and god knows who else behind his back.”
“And you’re the one who made him transfer schools!” Blaine shouted. “You’re the one who threatened to kill him! Who are you to preach to me?”
He wanted to punch him. He wanted to hurt Blaine Anderson so very bad in that moment. But instead he remained, fists clenched so tight he swore his nails were starting to break the skin of his palms.
“Alright,” Dave managed, trying to keep his tears at bay. “So we’re both terrible people. But at least I had the balls to admit to him I was wrong. He still thinks you’re his fucking heaven sent miracle, the only thing that fucking makes him worthwhile. He thinks that about you, Anderson. Now if that doesn’t churn your guts even a little bit, then I’ll be happy to make them do it for you. Me? I’m just this fat, hopeless loser he felt like forgiving. I’ve been so lucky to able to call him my friend, too, but at least I’ve never set himself up for disappointment. At least I’ve never been so fucking self-absorbed as to make him think he could expect more out of me than a big dumb closeted jock.”
Blaine seemed to falter, as if remembering his guilt fully. His defensiveness abandoned, he proceeded to lean against the outside brick wall of the bar.
“I didn’t want to hurt him,” he said softly. “I never wanted to do that. This…this thing that started with Sebastian…I don’t know, it hit me like a ton of bricks and once I started I couldn’t stop…it was never about Kurt.”
Dave found himself easing ever so slowly out of his building contempt, but it didn’t stop him from making one last snap at Blaine.
“Of course it wasn’t about Kurt. If it was ever about him you wouldn’t have started to begin with.”
Surprisingly, Blaine just nodded without complaint.
“Now, I just don’t know what to do.”
“Well, I’ll tell you what you do. You tell Kurt everything and then you explain to him he deserves so much better and then you let him go find someone who can give that to him.”
Blaine looked up at Dave then, his expression having changed from sad and resigned to puzzled and suspicious.
“Honestly, though, why do you care so much about this?” he asked. “This can’t all just be one effort to make things up to him for your past history…”
Dave said nothing and avoided eye contact, but this alone was more telling than anything else could have been.
Suddenly Blaine inhaled sharply.
“Oh…you’re in love with him.”
It was something he knew quite well, sure, but to hear someone say it out loud was almost like getting a punch of reality to the face. In fact, he wasn’t sure he had ever even admitted to himself out loud- it was just something that he had been aware of for quite a while now. Maybe he never voiced it, even to himself, because he knew how utterly futile and inconsequential it was. What was the point of being in love with someone he was not remotely worthy of? Brittany might argue that love is important and never frivolous, even if the other person doesn’t feel the same way, but Dave couldn’t say he entirely agreed with her logic. It still hurt like hell either way.
“Have you told him yet?” Blaine asked in a near-whisper.
“He’s hopelessly in love with you and, like you said, I’m the guy who made his life a living hell. What do you think?”
“You should tell him anyway. He deserves to know.”
Dave was about to rally back at him the question of ‘when did you become so concerned with what Kurt deserves?’ when the back door of the bar suddenly opened, completely cutting him off.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, Sebastian walked out. Followed by a stumbling Kurt.
“David?” Kurt said bewilderedly, his eyes darting frantically between the two of them. “Blaine?”
Blaine gasped, obviously in a similar state of panic. “I…I can explain everything, I promise.”
“You were supposed to be in Indiana, Blaine,” Kurt pointed out, his surprise slowly morphing into subtle rage. “You were supposed to be in Indiana with relatives. This doesn’t fucking look like Indiana to me. What the hell are you doing here with him?”
Kurt, of course, meant Sebastian who continued to watch the scene unfold with amusement.
Dave was completely and wholly frozen in place, not sure what to say or do or if doing so would even help anything. He instead chose to keep quiet and wait for the inevitable moment when he would have to run to Kurt’s aid.
Blaine must have sent Sebastian a pleading look that Dave couldn’t see, because it was at that moment that he spoke up.
“I’d like to point out that I’m doing this for everyone’s sake. The sooner we get this matter over with, the better.”
“Who the fuck are you decide that?” Dave said, not being shy about getting up into Sebastian’s smarmy face. “This was none of your goddamn business.”
“It’s probably no more your goddamn business than it is mine, Karofsky, but that certainly hasn’t stopped you.”
Blaine and Kurt were both a bit taken back that they seemed to know each other, but it was the latter of the two that reacted to this by pulling Dave back to face him.
“You knew about this?” he asked incredulously, seemingly having already made up his mind that Dave did. “You knew about this and you didn’t tell me? Why?”
“What? No! You have to believe me when I tell you that I just found out about this.”
Kurt wasn’t convinced in the slightest. He sent everyone present a tearful glare before darting rather drunkenly back inside the bar.
Dave followed, completely apathetic to Blaine and Sebastian.-------------------------------
Santana had been properly apologetic for losing Kurt so easily, but that certainly wasn’t going to help Dave out now as he drove with her and Brittany slowly down the road back to Lima, searching through the darkness for any sign of him. They only had George’s word to go on at this point, which was that Kurt had fled the bar completely.
“Try calling his cell phone again,” Dave said to either girl who would.
Brittany did so, announcing not long after that she was still only getting voicemail.
It was around that time that Santana, who was sitting in the passenger’s seat, turned ever so slightly to him and whispered in her secretively sincere tone of voice,
“Dave, I’m so sorry.”
He wasn’t sure if she was apologizing for losing Kurt or expressing her regret for the fact that this entire evening had blown up in his face. Perhaps it was both of those things.
Either way, he didn’t want to let her think that he held any disdain towards her for what had happened, so he squeezed her hand quickly in reassurance and continued scanning the pitch black road.
They continued onward an uncomfortably long amount of time with no indication of him whatsoever, until Brittany finally spotted something on the side of the road. Had it been even 10 minutes earlier, Dave might have disregarded this as her having just spotted a dead animal or something of the like, but his desperation had reached a crisis point, so he put the truck in park and clambered out of it without even turning off the engine.
Thankfully, he didn’t have to go far off the road. The distinct image of Kurt lying sprawled out in the grass, illuminated by his headlights, was made clearer the closer he got.
“Oh fuck,” he cursed, collapsing on to his knees beside him to make sure he was only passed out and nothing more. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”
As soon as the vital signs had been determined to be operational, Dave hoisted Kurt up into his arms and set back towards the truck. The sheer adrenaline pumping through him kept any fatigue at bay, though he was sure he’d be feeling the residual ache from tonight’s activity in the morning.
“Is he dead?” Brittany asked almost the moment Dave opened the door to the passenger side and laid Kurt down beside her.
“No, Britt, he’s not dead, but thanks for asking.”
The two of them then set to work trying to get him to wake up, patting his face and gently shaking him, while Santana brought up an excellent point.
“Fuck, maybe we should take him to the emergency room. What if he hit his head or something?”
“Let’s get him to my place,” Dave said decisively. “My sister’s a nurse and she hasn’t gone back home yet.”
Brittany and Santana didn’t argue with this as Dave left Kurt in the back for Brittany to continue to try to revive and he returned to the driver’s seat to get them back into town as quickly as possible.------------------------------------------
Kurt had jostled awake about halfway to Dave’s house, still drunk and furious as ever, but thankfully not hurt.
Dave still had Natasha look him over, just to confirm that he hadn’t harmed himself in any way on his very soused attempt to walk home. When she had determined that he hadn’t, Santana and Brittany got another ride home and wished Dave the best of luck with however things turned out.
Kurt, on the other hand, was staunchly refusing to speak to him at all. Any correspondence on his part was sent through Natasha, and so it was she he informed that he wanted to be taken home.
Natasha laughed.
“Honey, do you really want your parents to see you like this?”
Even in his drunken state, Kurt was able to rethink his abrupt decision.
“Well, where am I supposed to go? I’m not staying here with him,” he said, pointing accusingly at Dave.
“Why not?” Natasha asked, perplexed.
“Because he knew my boyfriend was screwing someone else behind my back and he said nothing!”
“Dude!” Dave exclaimed. “I didn’t know until five minutes before that Sebastian asshole sent you out there! I was out there giving your precious boyfriend a piece of my mind.”
Kurt sent him a glare that would have made him immediately drop if looks could actually kill, but before he could potentially say anything, Natasha intervened.
“Boys! Let’s just calm down for a second, yeah? Kurt, I honestly don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go home like this and Dave doesn’t really look like he’s in a good state to drive. How about I call your Dad and ask him if it’s alright if you spend the night here? I’ll just tell him you and Dave wanted to hang out.”
“Fine,” Kurt conceded. “But I’m not actually going to hang out with him.”
Dave scoffed. “Yeah, well somebody’s got to show you to your room and I’d hate to see you tumbling down the stairs, so you’re going to have to deal with me for a little while longer.”
Before Kurt could protest at all, Dave had picked him once more and begun carting him up the staircase to the second floor guestroom.
“I could have slept on the couch!” Kurt shrieked, wiggling far too dangerously.
“Would you stop already? You’re going to kill us both.”
“Not if you break my fall, fat ass.”
Dave grit his teeth from both the weight and the pain of Kurt’s choice of words, so when they finally reached said bedroom, it was perhaps no accident that he flopped him down on the mattress with less care than he probably would have otherwise.
“Look,” Dave said, cutting off whatever Kurt was planning to spew at him next. “I know I’ve hurt you. I know I haven’t given you everything you deserved or wanted in the past, but does it not matter one fucking bit that I’ve been trying so hard to make it up to you? To show you that I’m not just a dumb asshole? See, here I was thinking it all meant something and then the moment it even looks like I’ve fucked up you just assume that I have without even hearing my side of the story. Again, you say you’ve forgiven me but I don’t think you really have and I’d rather you just be honest with yourself and me and admit that somewhere deep down you still think I’m just going to fuck you over.”
Kurt was silent, staring at him with wide, bloodshot eyes.
“Whatever,” Dave sighed. “I’m not kidding anybody. You don’t owe me anything, much less that. I guess sometimes there are things you just can’t fix. Sorry, Kurt. Just go to bed and then you can leave and we don’t have to see each other again. This was a stupid mistake anyway.”
And with that, Dave exited the room and slammed the door shut, leaving Kurt completely speechless.