Fic: Sail Across The Sun (2/4)

[lealpotter]

Title: Sail Across The Sun

Author: lealpotter

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Kurtofsky

Summary: "Dave had sledgehammered is way into Kurt's life, had plastered himself to the raw walls of Kurt's heart and now, in a sudden move that was at the very least immensely rude, he had refused to let himself be removed."

Previous Chapters:
Chapter 1 - Like A Lady Tied To Her Manners



Author's Note: Yep, four chapters at least. It's like I've never met me. Still, I really hope you enkoy it, despite the lack of sexy times.

"Hi, Kurt."

"I miss that. Why do I miss that?"

"Memories?"

"Fond ones, yes. And I miss all the wooing. Now you just manhandle me everywhere."

"You didn't sound like you minded being manhandled all that much yesterday."

"Mm-hmmm, might be. Did Azimio text you back yet?"

"Nah. Think he's playing hard to get."

"… should I be worried?"

"What?"

"Well, you were always very close."

"So?"

"Hmm."

"… dude."

"Just checking."

"I don't even - Az? You - I - Okay, gonna take a while till I get past that."

"I'm here for you, David."

"Fuck you. Hey, why didn't you wait for me today?"

"Since I'd gone to your house to meet your sister, I figured it would be rude to make it seem like I was only killing time, waiting to see you."

"But I do that all the time."

"Dave…"

"What?"

"Nothing. Miss you."

"Yeah, me too, wasn't that the whole point? And why are you whispering?"

"I just - I really miss you."

"Hmm. Wanna come by later?"

"As in for dinner 'later' or… later 'later'?"

"Dinner."

"Oh."

"And then later."

"Oh."

"My bed's starting to smell like you."

"… I'm sorry?"

"Why? I'm not."

"I lo-"

"Love you, baby, gotta go now, mom's screeching."

"Wha- no, that's not fair!"

"…"

"I know exactly what you're doing, just FYI."

"…"

"Hmpf."

"…"

"…"

Kurt Hummel had a problem.

Note that Kurt Hummel was not a stranger to problems in general. From getting red dye number six stains off of his cream velvet carding to ensuring his father and step-brother never had free reign when it came to grocery shopping, you could say Kurt Hummel knew his way around problems. He knew problems, and he dealt with them - he was dating his reformed former bully, for Liza's sake. However, there were problems Kurt Hummel hadn't learned to deal with yet - and there was a particular one he was often completely baffled by.

Kurt couldn't stop touching his boyfriend.

That wouldn't, in itself, be a problem; Dave was his boyfriend, after all, and always seemed more than willing to let Kurt put his hands all over him. Nevertheless, Kurt worried.

Kurt was not, as a rule, a touchy-feely person. He recognized fully that he had a bit of trouble with letting people into his personal bubble, and there were still very few people whose spontaneous touch he welcomed, or even tolerated.

Then Dave.

He didn't merely welcome Dave's touch: he craved it.

And that was a predicament for which he was not prepared, even though Kurt Hummel was always prepared.

Kurt Hummel had learned on the very first day of his freshman year that he would need to bring not one, but two spare outfits if he planned on getting through the day with his dignity intact.

Kurt Hummel knew that if one must, one should always choose to be overdressed.

All in all, Kurt Hummel was not the type to be caught unawares - not when it came to himself. He took pride in knowing his own reactions, his own mind, his designed path in life.

Then Dave.

Dave didn't fit in his life. Dave had sledgehammered is way into Kurt's life, had plastered himself to the raw walls of Kurt's heart and now, in a sudden move that was at the very least immensely rude, had refused to let himself be removed.

Well.

Not that Kurt had given it his best, as of late. Au contraire, it was as if his own heart - his traitorous, shameless, good-for-nothing bundle of contradictions of a heart - had chosen to let itself be conquered by little more than a gorgeous smile and sweet whispers.

It was if his whole being had wrapped itself around Dave and swallowed him whole - and that was invariably the point when Kurt stopped himself, because that particular line of thought made his head hurt and his mouth run dry. He was better off with pure, clean thoughts that had nothing to do with Dave and swallowing. How bold he had become with his own sexuality still made him blush from time to time, which led him to call his boyfriend, in order to make himself get over it already.

He couldn't very well talk to Mercedes - who was still on the fence about the whole Kurt/Dave debacle - or Rachel - who was practically Finn by extension, who, in turn, was Kurt's father by extension - about his sexual awakening, and he had been wary of talking to Blaine every since the other boy's pressing for details had become, dare he, obsessive.

So each and every one of his uncertainties lead to Dave-time, which in turn lead to Kurt sneaking out at the craziest hours to break into his boyfriend's bedroom, with full consent of said boyfriend. Dave's mother having secured two months of morning shifts and Dave's sister having joined a total of five summer clubs seemed to them nothing short of an encouraging miracle.

Kurt knew he was getting spoiled - and then Dave had come up with a marvelously wicked plan to go pick up Kurt in his own car, which cleared up the problem of getting the Navigator back home at dawn. Kurt made sure to always lock his own door, and to storm into the garage later in the day whining about how Dave never had time for him, not now that Coach Beiste had installed summer practice for her team. His father always smiled condescendingly and patted Kurt's shoulder with a "Well, you're very young, you have all the time in the world, son" and Kurt would roll his eyes and storm back out, all the while performing an intricate mental cheer to the deviancy of one Kurt Hummel.

Sometimes guilt would threaten to consume him, though; the thought of his dad waking up in the middle of the night with his son nowhere to be found was a constant source of anxiety at the back of his mind.

But slowly waking up in Dave's arms, watching as a thin stripe of sunlight flickered over his boyfriend's closed eyelids and made him frown in his sleep was simply too glorious to be missed. And he always made a point of leaving a note on his pillow every night he dared leave his room; in the catastrophic possibility of his dad getting wind of his misdoings, his heart would be spared a few unnecessary beats.

Kurt could well imagine the panicky but vague concerns that took over Burt Hummel from time to time. It had all become quite clear when his dad instated movie night on Saturdays, insisting that now that the boys were on vacation there was no reason to whine about losing valuable hours.

The first Saturday - three days after he and Dave had come clean with their relationship - had featured Brokeback Mountain.

The second Saturday proved to be even worse, with Kurt convinced that his skin had burnt itself into a few shades darker throughout the first ten minutes of I Love You, Phillip Morris.

On the third Saturday he had decided that enough was enough and told his father firmly that, if he was so intent on broadening his horizons, then Kurt would get to choose the movie, the snacks and get to bring a friend.

His "friend" turned out to be Dave, of course. Burt settled for making grumbled resigned sounds while Carole cooed occasionally at their adorableness. Kurt and Dave entertained themselves with shooting popcorn at Finn's gaping mouth, snickering as he snored all the way through Were The World Mine.

Kurt thought his father's mind track was turning out painfully obvious, never mind the random appearances of brightly wrapped condoms around the house.

Kurt often wondered if he ought to tell his dad that Dave and him, aside from being each other's firsts in almost everything - or so Kurt hoped they would be -, still weren't at a stage where that kind of insurance was obligatory.

And then, he thought, maybe not. What Burt didn't know couldn't hurt him, be it knee-length sweaters or his son's sexual exploits.

But that still brought to mind how much he would love his dad's worst fears to become reality and how much his boyfriend had been hindering those same plans. He had tried to hint to Dave that he would be more than agreeable to them getting to know each other sans meddling layers of fabric, but Dave seemed not to get it, even batting away every attempt from Kurt to just rip off his shirt already.

Kurt's obsession with Dave's width and strength, not to mention the peeks he had managed to get at Dave's chest hair - the whole thing had come to critical levels. This time around he was taking out the big guns.

He had plans. And back-up plans, and back-up plans to his back-up plans, and he would be shopping for his fall wardrobe at a backyard sale before he let Dave frustrate them again.

"Are you sure you called the right person?"

"… hi, Blaine."

"Kurt!"

"Honestly, I do call you."

"This demands celebration. Let me get my party hat."

"I call you a lot more than most mentally sound people call their exes."

"And a cake. We should have a cake."

"Bye, now."

"No, don't go! Kurt!"

"For the love of all ungodly things. Blaine."

"Hello, Kurt. It's so nice to talk to you, Kurt."

"Must you?"

"It's so good to hear your voice, Kurt. Kurt. Kurt. I haven't said your name in a while."

"Are you high?"

"Kuuurt."

"Oh my god, are you drunk? Blaine, you know what that does to you."

"Will you have dirty, kinky phone sex with me if I am?"

"… I should warn you that you're on speaker phone, and that Dave is here with me."

"Oh. Oh, crap. Oh, fuck, shit, I'm sorry, you know I was just kidding, tell him I was just kidding, oh crap, David, I'm sorry, that's not something Kurt and I - I mean, we don't -"

"That was fun."

"Really, Kurt, tell him - oh. He's not really there, is he."

"He might be one day, if you keep propositioning me."

"When did you turn into this much of a cold-blooded fiend?"

"I have saved all the sparkly, pleasant aspects of my personality for my boyfriend. Sorry about that."

"You've been holding out on me all this time, haven't you?"

"Oh, you have no idea."

"And David gets all the good stuff, hum?"

"More, if possible."

"You're so smitten."

"Unfortunate, but true."

"Are you kidding me? Kurt, you're in love with your boyfriend, who seems to be as pathetically in love with you back, how can you even -"

"I -"

"Is there something wrong?"

"… no. No, there's… no."

"Oh-oh."

"What?"

"I see. So that's why you're calling."

"I have no idea what -"

"Come on, out with it."

"I love him."

"Now you're just being redundant."

"Exactly. Exactly, you get it. It's not as if I'm particularly good at hiding what I feel, either, I've never been. And with him, god -"

"Okay, it got awkward now that you've elevated your ex-bully over your ex-mentor in the affectionate department."

"Bite me."

"And he's even adding to your vocabulary. I'm jealous."

"He's right, you are annoying."

"Kurt."

"I -"

"Out with it."

"I - I do love him, but he won't let me say it. And that's awful, but I get it, I know why he does it. But he won't let me see him naked either, and that I don't get, and -"
"Whoa!"

"And I really, really, really want to, god, do I, it's all I think about lately. I've never felt like such a guy in all my life and I don't like it much but it's not as if I can help it, is it, have you seen him -"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!"

"I - I'm sorry."

"You- hum. That's… interesting. Is he really - his clothes are very bulky. I might need some description."

"Blaine."

"Kurt."

"Weren't you seeing someone?"

"It's complicated. And you owe me."

"Excuse me?"

"You broke up with your caring, extremely good-looking boyfriend just so that you could give way to your deep dwelling desires."

"Wasn't his name… Terence? Terry? Where is he?"

"Complicated. So spill."

"Ugh, now that you mention it… his clothes. I hate his clothes. If I could I would light a pyre with them and perform dance rites around it all night."

"I can think of a whole other kind of rites you might want to perform."

"Blaine!"

"Kurt!"

"Why do I even call you?"

"Because you're itching to have my go-ahead on some crazy plan you've been working on to get into Karofsky's pants."

"I'll let you know I have been there, thank you very much."

"What's stopping you from ripping them off, then?"

"Hmpf. He is much stronger than me, and he obviously doesn't want me to - but I don't get why."

"Well, maybe he's embarrassed."

"Of who, me? Honestly, Blaine."

"No, look -"

"Why would he be? He knows perfectly well he has no reason to be embarrassed."

"Really?"

"I'm very… obvious about how I feel about his body."

"Kurt Hummel, notorious sex kitten. Wonders never cease."

"He is very inspiring."

"And now I feel inadequate."

"Oh, get off it."

"I try to. See, this is where living vicariously through you comes in handy."

"You. Pervert."

"Anyhow. You should talk to him. Reassure him that you love his body exactly as it is and whatnot."

"'Exactly as it is'? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, he's - he's very… large."

"He's… are you honestly calling my boyfriend fat?"

"I said large. I wouldn't say fat - maybe chubby? Just a little bit. He does clean up nicely."

"…"

"Kurt? Kurt, I didn't mean to be offensive, I only -"

"Oh. My. God."

"What?"

"Oh god. Blaine, I need you to do me an enormous favor."

"You're scaring me now. What is it?"

"I need you to come over to my house and punch me as hard as you can."

"Ouch. Why would I do that?"

"Because I'm an idiot. I'm a thoughtless, inapt, insensitive idiot and I should get my just deserts."

"Why is that?"

"I remembered. I - I know why he's being so difficult about this and it's all my fault."

"Lost me, now."

"When he kissed me, you remember, when you badgered me to confront him - "

"I was trying to help!"

"Yes, you had better steer clear of that particular subject around him. He has very strong objections to you in general, but that one takes the punch."

"And I had very strong objections to him shoving you around."

"… touché. I'm better off keeping you apart, then."

"Mm-hmm. But what was that about the kiss?"

"Well, I did confront him. And I said a bunch of things, and I don't remember a tenth of it, but - I called him chubby, Blaine. And not only that. I think I said something about his hair, that he was having a bad hair day, maybe?"

"God, Kurt, how could you. He was just being his lovely violent-asshole self around you. I think you stepped on a line there, big time."

"Don't. I'm not saying I didn't have my reasons, but he has done his utmost to earn my forgiveness and I didn't even remember."

"Go on."

"And I don't think I really meant any of those things - only in as much as I meant that he wasn't my type, but that was then."

"Are you sure? Sounds to me like you're projecting just a tiny little bit."

"… shut up. It's only logical. I mean, it's not like he had a body transplant, and with the way he gets me going now, like no one else ever- "

"No, Kurt, stop, you're too kind."

"Oh."

"You were saying?"

"God, Blaine. I'm sorry."

"You're allowed to voice your opinion. It's still a somewhat free country, after all."

"No, this doesn't work. I just - I needed to think and talk this whole thing through. With Dave I can't get a clear perspective and I get distracted so easily and… there's really no one else, but this is selfish - and unfair to you, of course. I only thought that, since you had someone else, it wouldn't matter so much."

"It's like I told you. Complicated."

"I'm really sorry."

"Stop it. I guess I haven't been the most considerate and sensitive of friends to you, either."

"Hmm."

"Yes, that sums it up nicely. Anyway. I'm a big boy now, so -"

"Figuratively?"

"Does the free-to-punch-you offer still stand?"

"You should have snatched it up while you could."

"I see."

"Oh, fine. Your height is a lovely average and all the others are freaks."

"Including your boyfriend?"

"My boyfriend is a huge freak. Oh, hum."

"… what?"

"He is a freak. He is a huge freak."

"Yes, you've already - wait. Oh. Huh. Really?"

"Mm-hmmm."

"Congratulations are in order, then - I guess?"

"Very much so. I haven't seen it yet, due to that whole thing with his clothes being obnoxiously always there. But it scared me a little the first time I, hum. You know. Still does, actually."

"Why would it - unless you're thinking of - oh."

"Not - not now. But. Yes. One day. I've thought about it often enough."

"That's really… really good, Kurt. I'm happy for you. So much for romance, huh?"

"We have plenty of romance, thank you very much."

"Before or after the heavy-petting sessions?"

"Rude. I know I used to think it was all about the big swooping gestures, but… just the way he looks at me sometimes, or touches me, I - it makes me feel wined and dined, and danced and serenaded all at once. Did I ever tell you what he did on our first date?"

"Yes."

"… oh. Sorry, I'm one of those, aren't I?"

"Obnoxiously happy in love? Yeah. But it's okay. They give you a free pass during your first month."

"Oh, goodie,"

"And, well, if you really feel like that then you should show him."

"Do you think he'll get naked if I do?"

"Oh my God, Kurt, what has he done to you and where can I get more of the same?"

"Mine, bitch."

"Hmm. Well, he's not really my type, either, so there."

"Urgh, stop that, I remembered something else."

"What?"

"I said he was sweaty."

"That makes sense… doesn't it? He is a jock, so I guess that's normal. And no one likes B.O."

"…"

"Kurt?"

"… is it weird if I do? I mean, not B.O. per se. He doesn't have a lot, since he always showers - unlike other teenage jocks that sleep in the room next to mine and shall remain nameless for the time being. But I've had dinner at his house a couple of times now and there was this one time when he had just come from summer practice and he was all sweaty and hot and… hot."

"…"

"Blaine. I don't like the noises you're making with your nose and the air that goes through it at intervals. I don't like them one bit."

"I'm sorry, but you shouldn't come out and say things like that to people, Kurt."

"You said he wasn't your type."

"So did you."

"Point. But still. Back. Off."

"Moving on. What happened?"

"I don't know if I should be telling you this. You sound wheezy."

"I'm a little asthmatic."

"No you're not."

"Ku-urt. Vicarious fun, remember?"

"I try not to."

"So there was sweat and rising body temperature…"

"Right. Well. I might have molested him a little before he got in the shower."

"A little?"

"… maybe a little more like a lot?"

"You shouldn't be allowed to prowl the streets this unbalanced. I'm starting to get scared for him."

"He wasn't what you'd call unwilling."

"I'll bet."

"God. I am a stereotype, aren't I?"

"Just one more stereotypical teenage boy, perhaps. And there's nothing wrong with that. But what about the touch of fingertips?"

"His hands are fabulous. I love his fingertips. Everywhere."

"…"

"Stop it. I feel like someone high-jacked my brain sometimes."

"Not, it's good, it's all good. Sorry I laughed."

"Hmpf."

"So, what is your plan to leave him bare and begging on his knees for you?"

"…"

"Ha-ha."

"… you did that on purpose."

"Can't say I didn't. Come on, Kurt, calming breaths."

"Stop mocking my fragile state."

"I wouldn't dare. You know all my ticklish spots."

"… right. Well, now that I think I know what's wrong, I can fix it. And I will."

"You're awfully committed, aren't you?"

"Blaine, this is the guy who looks at me like I'm the best part of his day, everyday. And that generally makes me distracted and complacent, but no more. He won't even know what hit him."

"Code mission: Sexify?"

"Yes. And I intend to do a lot better than you."

"Hey, I did my best. How was I supposed to know that -"

"Telling me to be sexy while performing for a bunch of giggling schoolgirls, watching you flirt with each and every one of them in a way that I still hoped was reserved to me, and, to top it off, asking my dadto give the guy that has the most pathetic crush on you a sex talk. Because I was so utterly incompetent when it came to anything remotely sexual. How on earth were you supposed to know that might be a bad idea."

"You're making me sound like a jerk. You know I never meant to -"

"I know. I dated you Blaine. I always knew you never did any of that on purpose."

"Then why -"

"But I think I deserve someone who won't even think of doing it. Someone who can - I don't even know what he does, or if he even does anything, but… He deserves the same from me."

"Point taken. For the record, I always thought you were incredibly cute."

"You're a darling. Can I ask you a favor?"

"I'm not hitting you, Kurt. I draw the line at overly violent displays of violence, unlike some."

"Nice, Blaine. I was just about to ask you come over tomorrow and help me choose my outfit, but if you're gonna be like that…"

"Oh, do I get to see you naked?"

"Blaine!"

"Kurt!"

"Where was this enthusiasm when we were dating, honestly."

"Sorry. It's -"

"Complicated?"

"A little bit."

"Hmm. Well, I'll burn my new feathered hat before I let you see me naked when my boyfriend still hasn't gotten to, but we can compromise. Pick out something that leaves him unresponsive long enough for me to undress him fully and I'll give you… arms."

"Please. Mid-thigh, or we're done."

"Calves."

"And arms?"

"Fine."

"Score!"

"God, you're weird."

"Not everyone has an overly enthusiastic boyfriend, you know."

"Not overly. Just enough."

"Gah."

"Keep going and all you'll get to see is my middle finger."

"I'll take that into consideration tomorrow. Goodbye, my male provider of half-nakedness."

"… I have a really bad feeling about this."

"…"

"Hum. Did I remember to tell you that Dave will be here afterwards?"

"…"

"Hmm."

"…"

"…"

"Practical."

"Oh, shut up."

Blaine smiled smugly and spun the chair around playfully.

"This is about seduction."

"Easy access, Kurt, easy access."

"But…" Kurt glanced mournfully at his planned outfit, then back up at Blaine, frowning.

"You said I looked good in that."

"Of course you do. It's a skill you have, of looking good in whatever. But you should be aiming to feel fabulous like this." Blaine jumped up and spread his hands, encompassing Kurt's scantily clad torso. He strode over to the bed picking up a creamy light sweater with a loose collar that Kurt usually saved for spring-cleaning.

"You have to be - "

"Trust me."

"No."

"He won't be able to keep his hands of you, I promise."

Kurt scoffed and batted the shirt away with a sneer. Blaine laughed and fake-stepped to Kurt's right then lunged and start forcing the sweater over his head, using his strength against Kurt's height and grabbing his hands with one of his own. Kurt spluttered, half-naked body twisting in a way Blaine couldn't help but find alluring. He hadn't thought of Kurt in anywhere near to these terms in so long, so it was a little alarming, all things considered.

But what Kurt (and Dave) didn't know couldn't hurt him (and Blaine), could it?

The fabric suddenly muffled Kurt's protests when the sweater covered his head completely. Blaine was taking his sweet time watching him struggle when he was plummeted out of his amused yet surprisingly interested stupor by a distinctly forced cough behind him. He turned quickly, his mental flight-mode alarm flaring up as he took in David Karofsky's menacing expression and even more menacing heavy bulk.

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