The man I Used To Know. (Chapter Two/?)
Title: The Man I Used To Know
Author: Pulpobsessed
Pairing: Dave Karofsk/Kurt Hummel, Kurt Hummel/OMC, Dave Karofsky/OMC
Characters: This chapter: Dave Karofsky, OMC (Chris Michaels)
Rating: R
Summary: 8 years after the events of On My Way. Kurt begins a journey that will force himt of face his past. Dave finds himself being tested in a way he never wanted to be.
Genre: FutureFic
Disclaimer: I only own those characters I made up…anything associated with Glee belongs to some other guys.
A/N: This chapter ended up being incredibly long, mainly because I wanted to pay homage to the amazing events of On My Way…I was so inspired and touched by the scene between Dave and Kurt that I had to include something about that. This chapter includes some reflections by Dave on that conversation. Plus, I just wanted to show that Dave in a situation exactly like what he envisioned for himself.
Previous Chapters: 1
Chapter Two.
I believe in you even through the all tears and laughter,
I believe in you even though we're apart.
I believe in you even on the morning after.
Oh, when the dawn is nearing
When the night is disappearing
This feeling will still be here in my heart.
Bob Dylan, “I Believe in You.”
There was barely a sound…just the deep steady breathing of someone fast asleep.
The bedroom was completely dark, even this late in the afternoon. The heavy drapes were pulled tightly together, preventing any errant rays of afternoon sunlight from breaking into what could only be called a sanctuary of sleep.
The bedroom itself was warmly decorated. The room was painted a light chocolate brown, with a dark brown trim. The furniture in the room was all painted or stained to in dark chocolate tones, which gave the room a distinct masculine feel - both modern and tasteful. The entire room was centered around one distinct item of furniture - a king sized bed. The bed itself was a sturdy wooden frame - clearly expensive and solidly put together. It was covered by a large duvet that was sheathed in a dark brown cover. On either side of the bed, two night stands each holding a small lamp, iPod dock stations, and a small pile of books. Tucked away in one corner of the room was a large soft looking chair, with a tall reading light behind it and a small table next to it, which had its own pile of books and a long forgotten mug of tea. Along one wall was the door to a walk-in closet, and on the opposite wall, next to the bed, was the entry to the en-suite bathroom. And along another, was a dresser.
Hung directly above the bed was a vintage Star Wars poster, professionally framed. And directly across from it was a 40-inch flat screen television. Littered throughout the room, were dozens of personal photographs. On the bed-side tables. On the dresser. On the table next to the chair. And mounted on the wall throughout the room.
Pictures of a larger, muscular man smiling at the camera. Photos with is father, proudly hugging his son as he graduated from both an undergraduate degree and later a graduate degree. Photos with his best friend - a short blond woman - both of them hamming it up for the camera. In one he is posing shirtless on a sandy beach, while the woman dumps water over his head. And photos with his lover - a shorter, stocky man. In every one of those photos, both men look as they’d won some kind of lottery.
It was the room of someone who has a very happy life. A comfortable life. A life that one does not take for granted.
And it was indeed a life that Dave Karofsky never took for granted…not one minute of it.
As Dave Karofsky rolled over to burrow even deeper into his pillows and duvet, he allowed that deep sense of comfort and love envelop him. He pressed his face into the pillows and smiled in his sleep, the sleepy smile of a man who was happy to wake up.
Only…maybe not so much this morning.
Even in his mostly unconscious state, he could feel the intense hangover that was sure to hit him once he had fully woken up.
Dave pressed his face into his pillow, moaning slightly. He could feel the push of consciousness starting…starting to yank him out of his perfectly wonderful sleep. Starting to pull him right into his hangover. Forcing him to face his own fucking stupidity from the previous night.
Dave opened one eye.
He found himself staring right into the pillow. After a brief moment of panic over the lose of his eyesight, Dave slowly angled his head in an attempt of getting a clear view of where the time was projected on the side of his bedside table.
3:00
Dave groaned. And turn his head back into the pillow.
How could it be three o’clock…he went to bed at 3:15 in the morning, time didn’t move backwards, did it? Plus he felt like he had gotten quite a bit of sleep.
Unless…
Oh. Holy. Fuck.
It was three in the afternoon.
He shifted his body again. This time so he was facing the opposite direction. The other side of the bed was empty.
Crap.
Three in the afternoon. Alone in bed. Yeah…this was bad. Very bad.
Dave tried to sit up, but the moment he did his brain exploded into a million tiny pinpoints of light and pain. They rolled past his vision, blinding him. His mouth instantly went dry and a long painful shudder, that started in his stomach, shook his entire body.
He couldn’t help the involuntary moan of pain that escaped his lips. As the sound broke out into the silent bedroom, it ricocheted back and practically knocked him flat again.
Dave slowly let himself fall back against the sheets and pillows.
As he did, he suddenly became aware of the rest of his body. Besides the constant dull ache in every part of his body, he was covered in dried sticky sweat. The sheets - his favorite sheets - had actually stuck to his skin. And his mouth definitely tasted like vomit.
He was naked...so he had either gotten or been undressed at some point. But his chest hair was matted down with gross drunk sweat. And his skin had a dull sheen to it, even his tattoos had lost their luster, now looking like bad body paint. He continued to examine himself carefully...
...was that vomit clinging to his skin...
“Oh...god!” His voice sounded horse and disgusting.
He suddenly wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep.
Either that or die.
Dave slowly screwed his eyes closed - even his eyelids hurt. How was that even possible.
Dave turned his head and whimpered into his pillow.
Why did he say yes to going out? Why did he say yes to celebratory...shots? Shots of...whatever the fuck that was...?
Why did he...
Suddenly a cool hand was stroking his forehead, which was quickly replaced by a cold washcloth...
Dave moaned at the sensation. The sensation of the cold cloth against his overheated and sweaty skin was amazing. He actually whimpered.
As he opened his eyes, Dave found himself staring into the concerned filled grey-green eyes of his boyfriend, Chris.
“Here.” Chris held up a bottle of Gatorade with a straw. “Drink this.”
Dave nodded and pulled the straw into his lips. As the orange powdery tasting liquid filled his throat, Dave thought he was going to vomit, again. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to swallow as much as he could.
The sensation of the icy liquid going down his throat actually felt amazing...he hadn’t realized he was so thirsty.
After drinking for about thirty seconds straight, Dave pulled back from the straw. He let himself look back up at Chris, fearing he would find judgment there. Instead, all he found was sympathy and adoration.
“You’re here.” Dave croaked out.
“Of course I am. I live here. Where else would I be?” Chris used the washcloth to wipe off Dave’s cheeks as well.
“Dunno...running away from your drunkard boyfriend?”
“Oh hush. I was drunk last night too...no where close to you, but certainly drunk.”
“How bad was I?” Dave let his eyes close again, relishing the feeling of the cool washcloth against his forehead.
“Pretty bad...”
“Did I throw up?”
“I’ve never seen quite that much vomit.”
“Oh god...I’m so sorry.”
“It’s ok...”
Dave groaned.
“Dave...really, it’s ok. I’m not upset. You deserved last night. I mean, how often are you going to be able to celebrate becoming head of queer issues at the Department of Public Health?”
“I did kick that interview’s ass, didn’t I?”
“Kick its ass? You did things to that interview’s ass that guys at the Eagle would be embarrassed to talk about!”
Dave stifled a laugh, mainly because it would have hurt too much to laugh.
“I’m really proud of you, babe. Even if you did try to stick your tongue down Jeff’s throat. And then vomit in our front hallway.”
“I what!?”
“Don’t worry...Jeff thought it was funny. And the vomit wasn’t too hard to clean up. Course, you did vomit a lot in the bathroom too.”
“Oh god...Kill me.”
“Nah. I love you too much to do that. How about I just file it in the back of my head to use against you as I see fit?”
“I think that is actually worse. How did I get so bad anyways?”
“Jess...how else?”
“Jess. Of course.”
“The two of you started in on tequila shots.”
“Oh god.”
“If it helps, she’s feeling just as bad as you are. She called a little while ago.”
“Good...god damn. She knows I go crazy when I have tequila.”
“You say crazy. I say sex maniac.”
“What did I do?”
“Tried to hump me outside the bar...for starters.”
“For starters? Oh....Chris...I...”
“Shush. If you had actually been able to stand up and, you know, not sound like you were some kind of bad Bob Dylan impersonator, I would totally have gone for it.”
Dave rolled onto his side and snuggled closer to Chris. He opened his eyes and looked up at the other man. “Thank you for looking after me.”
“You’re welcome.”
Dave glanced at the bedside table again. When he saw the date illuminated underneath the time, his blood ran cold. February 14th.
Fuck.
“Fuck!”
“What’s wrong?” Chris asked.
“I ruined Valentine’s Day.”
“No you didn’t!” Chris laughed. “Besides, you hate Valentine’s Day.”
“Well, yeah...but that doesn’t mean that I should be so hungover that I’m still in bed at three in the afternoon on a day I should be spending with you.”
“So, get up. And come hang out with me.”
“What are you doing?”
“Watching TV.”
“See...you’re not supposed to be just watching TV alone today. We should be doing something romantic!”
“Dave...really...you were celebrating getting a big new job yesterday! You are allowed to be hungover! I’m not mad at you...plus you hate Valentine’s Day!”
“Promise you’re not mad.”
“Yes. I promise. I really do. But if you want to come join me on the couch, I’d like that.”
“OK. What are you watching?”
“Lost.”
“I still can’t believe you never watched that!.”
“Come on...you can protect me from the smoke monster. Or we can watch a movie.”
“Can I pick?”
“No. Because you’re feeling like crap, which means you’re gonna want to watch Star Wars or something...”
“It makes me feel better.”
“Just get up. We can pick together. And I’ll order us Thai for for dinner...hot and sour soup for you.”
Chris pushed himself up and started towards the door leading to the rest of the apartment.
“Chris!” Dave called softly from the bed.
“Yeah, babe.” Chris turned around in the doorway, even with the room bathed in shadow, Dave could see the smile on the man’s face.
“I love you.”
“I know.”
*********************************
“I just don’t get how you find this movie entertaining...” Dave let his head flop back against the pile of cushions that he was propped up against on the couch. “Even the dialogue is bad.”
“It just is. And this coming from the man who owns The Phantom Menace...Now hush up.” Chris shot back from where he was lying in-between Dave’s legs, with his head against Dave’s chest.
“I needed to own the whole series - and I’ve never actually watched that one. Hey! You’re not even watching it. You have your eyes closed.”
“I don’t need to see it to know what’s going on.”
“That makes no sense...”
“You say the same thing about your movies all the time. And you agreed to watching Dune...so stop complaining.”
“I like complaining.”
“David…Dune is one of my favorite movies. You wanted to watch science fiction, and when I suggested this you said yes. So, hush up!”
“I’m the one suffering...”
“I have no sympathy for you. None at all.”
“Whatever. Can you pass me my soup...with you lying on top of me, I can’t reach it.”
Chris sighed in false exasperation as he heaved himself off the sofa, grabbing the soup container.
“Here. You feeling better?”
“Yeah. I am...my head still feels like someone is building a set of condos in there...but other than that, I’m ok.”
Chris turned over and pressed his lips to Dave’s forehead. “I’m sorry sweetheart.”
“Thanks.” Dave grinned up at his boyfriend. He reached out and ran a hand slowly across Chris’ face. Chris’ eyes fluttered shut at the sensation. Chris turned his head and pressed a kiss against Dave’s palm.
“Can we watch the rest of the movie now?” Chris said, smiling.
“Yeah yeah...I’ll try to be quiet. I just don’t get why Sting is in this...”
“And I don’t get how you can watch Star Wars every months, when you know every single line...every single one...so can we call it even?”
“Yeah. Fine. Watch your weird desert movie. But after this, I’m watching Jurassic Park.”
“Whatever, Dave-osaurus.” Chris turned back around and settled against Dave’s chest. Dave wrapped an arm around Chris, pulling him tightly against him. With the other, he took a drink of his soup.
He was constantly blown away by his life. By the life he got to live every single day of the year. He was floored that he had this person in his life. There were days when all this...it just seemed so surreal.
Three years...they’d been together for three years. And three years ago, Dave had been a lonely grad student who desperately needed a break from work. It was a break that would forever change his life...
*********************
Dave was just at the end of his graduate program in Public Policy at Georgetown, and was working on a major project with gay teens and sexual health risks. Plus, he was already taking part in a joint think tank between the university and the Office for Civil Rights, in the hope that he might land himself a job with that department once he graduated. It wasn’t quite the career in law that his dad had hoped for him...but it was damn close, as his dad told him when he saw him almost every weekend.
Now, normally on a Wednesday evening, Dave would be holed up in his tiny apartment reading, or maybe visiting his dad, doing his laundry while he worked on a paper, but tonight he’d had enough. But, after screaming in frustration over some new eighty page report he had to read, Dave gave up. He just couldn’t face it tonight. He’d made a note for himself that there was some big book signing at Books for America in Dupont Circle - the guy who had taken over George RR Martin’s A Song of Fire and Ice series was signing and answering questions. So, Dave grabbed his jacket, shoved a copy of the guy’s latest book into his messenger bag and took off. and , and he wanted to ask the bastard why he decided not to let the Game of Thrones series die...like it should!
As he hurried towards the closes Metro station, Dave felt decidedly naughty.
The signing, plus a rather uninspiring Q&A, had lasted about two hours Once the store had cleared of all the fantasy nerds, Dave decided to continue browsing...relishing in a night of freedom. As he browsed the Star Wars books, contemplating buying himself the latest Fate of the Jedi offering, someone cleared his throat behind him.
Dave turned around to face a stocky blond man wearing glasses. The man was short, but built like a linebacker...which threatens to make most shorter men appear overweight, but on him worked perfectly. His hair was very short - nearly a buzz-cut. He wore a pair of thin framed black glass, which actually drew attention to the startling grey-green shade of his eyes. Which actually took Dave’s breath away...they were deep and soulful and utterly beautiful.
Dave couldn’t stop the grin that started to form on his face.
The guy, however, was clearly too nervous to even notice...he kept shifting his weight between his feet and twisting his hands together.
He took a deep breath and then stammered out, “H-h-hello.”
“Hi.” Dave smiled. It was clear that this guy had been working up the nerve to say hello for a while, so he decided to help him out. “How are you?” And in the last five years, Dave had gotten very comfortable talking to guys. He still hated the cold open - which is what this guy was facing - but he was quite comfortable just talking to a guy.
“I’m ok. I...um...I really liked your question.” The poor guy looked like he was going to pass out soon.
“Oh? You were at the signing?”
“Yeah...I really liked the original books, so I wanted to hear what this guy had to say about the new series.”
“Mostly what I heard was that he wanted to make a lot of money.”
“Yeah...that pretty much summed it up. Are you a sci-fi fan?” The guy gestured towards the book in Dave’s hand.
“Yeah. I am. Big Star Wars fan. Always have been.”
“Cool - I’m more a fantasy or comic book guy myself.”
“Comics are awesome!” Dave grinned. “I have a huge collection of Batman stuff at home.”
“Cool. Fan of Batgirl?” He blurted out the question, as though desperately seeking for some common ground between them.
Dave smiled at the obvious attempt to make sure the conversation kept going. Having been there dozens of times himself, Dave knew how nerve wracking this kind of thing could be. So, nodding happily, Dave replied “Of course. I’d have to be dumb not to be.” Despite the fact that he’d maybe read like three issues of anything related to Batgirl.
“Barbara Gordon or Stephanie Brown?”
Dave remember the name Gordon...or was he just remembering Gary Oldman in the Batman movies....still, worth a try. “Barbara Gordon all the way!”
The guy nodded at this...contemplating it for a moment. Then, smiling as though he deemed the response acceptable, he held out his hand. “I’m Chris, by the way.”
“And I’m Dave. It’s nice to meet you.” Dave put out his own hand, and nearly swooned at the sheer strength in Chris’ hand.
“Yeah...um...would you like to have a coffee? We could just go to Firehook, its just around the corner.” Chris looked nervous again.
“Sure. I’d like that. You’ll have to lead the way - I don’t spend a lot of time in around Dupont Circle.”
“Cool!” Chris’ entire face lit up. “I’ll lead the way. Um...did you want to buy that first?” Chris nodded at the book Dave was still holding.
“No...I have something much better to occupy myself with tonight.” God...was that cheesy? That was cheesy...Dave kicked mentally kicked himself.
Chris’ smile seemed to grow even larger. “I’m glad. Come on...while we walk, I’ll explain why Stephanie Brown is far superior as Batgirl.”
Dave found himself wanting nothing more than to listen to Chris talk about comic books...or whatever else he felt like talking about. “Try it. I’m sure I can be convinced.”
“Wait till I start lending you copies of her series...” Chris stopped, suddenly realizing that he had just suggested they would be seeing a lot more of each other.”
Dave reached out and put his hand on the small of Chris’ back. “I look forward to reading them.” He said softly.
Chris just blushed.
“So, how long did it take you to work up the nerve to talk me?”
“From the moment you walked in the store...” Chris muttered, barely loud enough for Dave to hear.
*********************
“What are you thinking about?” Chris was suddenly pressing his lips against Dave’s. Dave hadn’t even realized the other man had moved off of his chest, much less was now kneeling next to him on the couch, with an amused look on his face.
Dave must have looked a million miles away.
Dave smiled at Chris. “About the day we met.”
“Oh? Were you reflecting on how insanely awkward and inarticulate I was?”
“You weren’t that bad...”
“I almost peed myself three times trying to work up the nerve to talk to you! And the only thing I could think of to talk about was Batgirl - which you lied about read, by the way.”
“I thought it was cute. And I wanted to seem all cool and knowledgeable so you would keep talking to me.”
“Now that’s cute...sexy even.”
“Thanks...still think I’m sexy?”
“You’re sexy no matter what.”
“You are a very accomplished liar. I doubt that last night I was all that sexy.”
“Uh huh...something about that much vomit, well it takes the magic away. But the magic is right back there today, so nothing to worry about. You’re still sexy.”
“You know all the right things to say...”
“...so why the memory lane trip?”
“Just thinking about it...no actual reason. I guess sometimes I just can’t get over how my life turned out.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know... eight years ago, this right here was nothing more than just some fantasy. Eight years ago, the only thing possible outcome I could see to my life was...death. But now...”
“Dave...stop! You survived. Remember that! You survived! You fought to get out of that damn place...you ended up getting a scholarship to one of the best universities in the country. You didn’t die that day...you lived. And I am so happy you did. And now, look at you! You’re working in public mental health - on gay teen issues. Dave, you’re the success story. You’re proof that it does get better. As far as I’m concerned, you’re like some kind of role model to all those other closeted, self-hating teenagers out there. You got out. You’re not off visiting the glory-holes every weekend, while pretending to be straight...or worse, you’re not buried six feet under”
Dave couldn’t help the tears. He nodded. “I hated myself so much...I hated…I was so confused and didn't...” Dave pressed his forehead against Chris’.
“Shhhh...You made it out, Dave. You went through hell as a teenager, so stop acting like you don’t deserve it.”
“I certainly don’t deserve you...”
“Shut up! You do...” Chris slapped the side of Dave’s head.
“Even when you have to clean up my tequila vomit on Valentine’s Day...” Dave smiled.
“Even then. I’m glad you’re here...”
Dave wrapped his arms around Chris, hugging him tightly. Dave shut his eyes and breathed in deeply Chris’ scent. He marveled at the sensation of bulky, muscular package in his arms. It never ceased to amaze him. He felt Chris slither down his body until he fit the top of his head into the nook directly his chin.
Eight years ago...this would have been a pipe dream for him. Eight years ago...this was a fantasy. Now he got to live it each and every day.
They lay like that for a long time, with Dune playing quietly in the background.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Dave.”
Dave smiled. Nodding, he whispered, “Happy Valentine’s Day to you Chris.”
*********
Dave was trying very hard to pay attention to what was going on in the movie, but if he was going to be really honest...this damn film bored him to death. Keeping his eyes open, he ignored the disgusting burning feeling in his stomach and let his mind wander.
February 14th.
Dave hated Valentine’s Day.
Hated it.
As far as he was concerned, it was one of the most useless holidays ever invented. And, as far as he was concerned, it was an invented holiday, regardless of what wikipedia might say.
Even after three years with Chris, Dave hated Valentine’s Day...despite Chris’ obvious attempts at winning Dave’s affections to the side of romance.
It had started with Dinner at The Little Fountain Cafe, drinks at Veritas Wine Bar and finally a walk along The Mall - where Chris gave Dave a leather and silver bracelet by the Washington Monument.
But as special as the day had been, Dave just...just couldn’t find it in him to embrace the idea of Valentine’s Day.
Mainly because Valentine’s Day usually just meant rejection.
Traditionally, Valentine’s Day found Dave kicked to the curb...or just utterly depressed.
When he was seventeen...sitting alone in his room, he entertained the idea of swallowing a bottle of sleeping pills.
When he was eighteen...well, his heart had been broken into a million little pieces.
When he was nineteen...he was still unable to even entertain the idea of romance or a relationship...
At Twenty...he’d been dumped. On Valentine’s Day.
At Twenty-one...stood up, by a hook from Squirt.
At Twenty-Two...that one, he’d spent alone eating an extra large pizza, a pint of Chunky Monkey and watching Bridget Jones’ Diary. And porn.
At Twenty-Three...drunk and high, he wound up in some guy’s bed, after spending the night at The Green Lantern.
And at Twenty-Four...Chris had entered the picture.
But Chris had given him one good Valentine’s amongst how many bad ones? Dave just didn’t trust Valentine’s Day...Valentine’s Day was out to get him...
Even today...he was hungover as shit. Unable to do anything romantic with Chris, not even have a glass of wine. All he could do, today, was lie here and watch bad sci-fi
Disappointment.
As Dave lay on the couch with Chris, watching Sting run around a desert planet, he let his mind ponder over the last eight years...especially the last eight Valentine's Days...
He knew where this bad luck streak had started...he could practically pin point it. February 14th, 2012...the day he’d admitted his feelings to one Kurt Hummel.
Kurt Hummel...it had been, well if he was going to be honest, it had only been a few weeks since he’d thought of that name.
Regardless of what he was doing, Kurt Hummel still followed him around. Not in the way that one might think...it wasn’t a ‘the one that got away’ sort of thing, but more a ghost or whisper of the past...one of those shadows that sort of stayed with you.
Kurt Hummel...Dave’s first big love.
Kurt Hummel had saved him. Saved him multiple times over, in fact.
Kurt had known that to an extent. Dave had told him so on that ill-fated Valentine’s Day all those years ago. But Kurt had never known the full extent of what he had done for Dave.
Kurt had kept his promise. He had helped Dave through some of the worst days of his life. He’d been there on the day Dave came home from the hospital. He’d been there when Dave’s mother’s church group had practically assaulted Dave with reprogramming literature. He’d been there when Dave’s dad had finally filed for divorce. He’d been there when Dave re-enrolled at McKinley. He went with Dave to his first gay youth group. He’d always been on the other end of the phone when the nightmares threatened to overtake Dave. He was there when Dave ran into a few kids of his old school. He had been there while Dave suffered through all the side effects of his anti-depressants - the numbness, the weight gain, the anxiety...all of it.
And somehow, perhaps because of those reasons, their friendship changed. Shifted. And one day, Kurt was there in an entirely different way. Asking Dave to be something that was much greater than friends.
And suddenly, Kurt had become Dave’s first.
First love.
First real kiss.
First time.
And then, he became Dave’s first - and second - major heartbreak.
Throughout their long and sordid story, Kurt had managed to utterly destroy Dave’s heart at least a dozen times...sometimes he did so without even knowing it...like just the fact that Kurt even existed managed to break Dave’s heart.
Dave’s inability to be brave enough to tell Kurt about his sexuality...
Kurt’s face each and every time Dave bulled him.
Kurt’s face after that fatal first kiss.
At prom when he asked Dave to dance.
At Scandals...looking lost and uncomfortable as his boyfriend danced with another boy.
When Kurt said the words: “I’m with Blaine…”
…and then “I want to get to know you as friends…”
Then the miracle happened and Dave got a chance to be with Kurt...
And then...the biggest heartbreak of all. The one that left Dave decimated.
Dave had tired to get over Kurt...he’d tried so hard. But Kurt had seeped into his brain. Into his heart. And as hard as Dave worked to keep their relationship platonic, something just kept forcing them together. And eventually Dave lowered his defenses and let Kurt in.
Whatever those forces had been...a mutual trust, teenage longing, or something else, something closer to love - the friendship fell away and Dave found himself with a boyfriend.
As Dave’s eyes ran over the figure of the man that he now shared his life with - nearly eight years after those fleeting summer months - he found that he couldn’t help but wonder about Kurt.
Where was Kurt living? Did he stay in New York? Did he become a king of Broadway...although, Dave figured that he hadn’t, since Dave did occasionally read Broadway blogs.
Did he have a partner?
A family, maybe?
What would Kurt think of Dave’s life?
All those years ago, in the hospital, Kurt had urged Dave to imagine a life for himself ten years in the future...with a husband. A child. A home. A job...
That very fantasy had been the one thing that Dave had held on to through the dark days and the heartbreaks. The idea that somewhere out there was the perfect life for himself.
“I’m so happy right now.”
Dave hadn’t even realized he’d said that aloud until Chris turned his head slightly, and smiling, replied. “I am too babe. I couldn’t be happier.”
Chris turned back to the television and continued watching the movie in silence, unaware that his boyfriend’s brain was meandering the long untravelled roads of his past. Unaware that all Dave could really focus on the image of Kurt Hummel...
There was no real reason for Dave to be thinking about Kurt at this moment. No reason for Kurt to even be relevant in Dave’s life.
Except...except it was Valentine’s Day. And as far as Dave was concerned, that meant it was Kurt’s day. Valentine’s Day had marked the start of Dave’s fight back from the brink of death. It was the day when Dave had spilled his heart to Kurt...which eventually lead Kurt to open himself up the possibility of a relationship.
“Do you…ever…still think of me like you did in February?”
Valentine’s Day might have marked the start of Dave’s downfall and eventual resurrection as a gay man...as a man who fought to scrap out a life for himself, but it also marked the moment the moment when Dave’s greatest heartbreak had begun.
“Every single day.”
Kurt might have hurt him. Might have shattered him. Might have marked Valentine’s Day as the worst day in history, as far as Dave was concerned, but his presence in Dave’s life held another significant role.
He had given Dave hope.
Real hope.
He had given Dave the ability to see into his future...and what he witnessed there had driven him.
This moment…lying on his brand new couch from Room & Board, with his arms wrapped around the man he loved more than anything else in the entire world, watching some 80s sci-fi film…was the fulfillment of that hope.
Kurt…
Kurt…
Kurt needed to know. Needed to know how big of an impact he had.
Dave needed Kurt to know that the hope he’d given, the love they’d shared…had helped. That Dave was living his dream.
“I’m so happy right now.”
Dave pressed his face into Chris’s hair, breathing in deeply. He knew he had to try. He had to try to tell Kurt…
It was time to find the man who had changed his life so remarkably.
Next Chapter - Back To McKinley.
Author: Pulpobsessed
Pairing: Dave Karofsk/Kurt Hummel, Kurt Hummel/OMC, Dave Karofsky/OMC
Characters: This chapter: Dave Karofsky, OMC (Chris Michaels)
Rating: R
Summary: 8 years after the events of On My Way. Kurt begins a journey that will force himt of face his past. Dave finds himself being tested in a way he never wanted to be.
Genre: FutureFic
Disclaimer: I only own those characters I made up…anything associated with Glee belongs to some other guys.
A/N: This chapter ended up being incredibly long, mainly because I wanted to pay homage to the amazing events of On My Way…I was so inspired and touched by the scene between Dave and Kurt that I had to include something about that. This chapter includes some reflections by Dave on that conversation. Plus, I just wanted to show that Dave in a situation exactly like what he envisioned for himself.
Previous Chapters: 1
Chapter Two.
I believe in you even through the all tears and laughter,
I believe in you even though we're apart.
I believe in you even on the morning after.
Oh, when the dawn is nearing
When the night is disappearing
This feeling will still be here in my heart.
Bob Dylan, “I Believe in You.”
There was barely a sound…just the deep steady breathing of someone fast asleep.
The bedroom was completely dark, even this late in the afternoon. The heavy drapes were pulled tightly together, preventing any errant rays of afternoon sunlight from breaking into what could only be called a sanctuary of sleep.
The bedroom itself was warmly decorated. The room was painted a light chocolate brown, with a dark brown trim. The furniture in the room was all painted or stained to in dark chocolate tones, which gave the room a distinct masculine feel - both modern and tasteful. The entire room was centered around one distinct item of furniture - a king sized bed. The bed itself was a sturdy wooden frame - clearly expensive and solidly put together. It was covered by a large duvet that was sheathed in a dark brown cover. On either side of the bed, two night stands each holding a small lamp, iPod dock stations, and a small pile of books. Tucked away in one corner of the room was a large soft looking chair, with a tall reading light behind it and a small table next to it, which had its own pile of books and a long forgotten mug of tea. Along one wall was the door to a walk-in closet, and on the opposite wall, next to the bed, was the entry to the en-suite bathroom. And along another, was a dresser.
Hung directly above the bed was a vintage Star Wars poster, professionally framed. And directly across from it was a 40-inch flat screen television. Littered throughout the room, were dozens of personal photographs. On the bed-side tables. On the dresser. On the table next to the chair. And mounted on the wall throughout the room.
Pictures of a larger, muscular man smiling at the camera. Photos with is father, proudly hugging his son as he graduated from both an undergraduate degree and later a graduate degree. Photos with his best friend - a short blond woman - both of them hamming it up for the camera. In one he is posing shirtless on a sandy beach, while the woman dumps water over his head. And photos with his lover - a shorter, stocky man. In every one of those photos, both men look as they’d won some kind of lottery.
It was the room of someone who has a very happy life. A comfortable life. A life that one does not take for granted.
And it was indeed a life that Dave Karofsky never took for granted…not one minute of it.
As Dave Karofsky rolled over to burrow even deeper into his pillows and duvet, he allowed that deep sense of comfort and love envelop him. He pressed his face into the pillows and smiled in his sleep, the sleepy smile of a man who was happy to wake up.
Only…maybe not so much this morning.
Even in his mostly unconscious state, he could feel the intense hangover that was sure to hit him once he had fully woken up.
Dave pressed his face into his pillow, moaning slightly. He could feel the push of consciousness starting…starting to yank him out of his perfectly wonderful sleep. Starting to pull him right into his hangover. Forcing him to face his own fucking stupidity from the previous night.
Dave opened one eye.
He found himself staring right into the pillow. After a brief moment of panic over the lose of his eyesight, Dave slowly angled his head in an attempt of getting a clear view of where the time was projected on the side of his bedside table.
3:00
Dave groaned. And turn his head back into the pillow.
How could it be three o’clock…he went to bed at 3:15 in the morning, time didn’t move backwards, did it? Plus he felt like he had gotten quite a bit of sleep.
Unless…
Oh. Holy. Fuck.
It was three in the afternoon.
He shifted his body again. This time so he was facing the opposite direction. The other side of the bed was empty.
Crap.
Three in the afternoon. Alone in bed. Yeah…this was bad. Very bad.
Dave tried to sit up, but the moment he did his brain exploded into a million tiny pinpoints of light and pain. They rolled past his vision, blinding him. His mouth instantly went dry and a long painful shudder, that started in his stomach, shook his entire body.
He couldn’t help the involuntary moan of pain that escaped his lips. As the sound broke out into the silent bedroom, it ricocheted back and practically knocked him flat again.
Dave slowly let himself fall back against the sheets and pillows.
As he did, he suddenly became aware of the rest of his body. Besides the constant dull ache in every part of his body, he was covered in dried sticky sweat. The sheets - his favorite sheets - had actually stuck to his skin. And his mouth definitely tasted like vomit.
He was naked...so he had either gotten or been undressed at some point. But his chest hair was matted down with gross drunk sweat. And his skin had a dull sheen to it, even his tattoos had lost their luster, now looking like bad body paint. He continued to examine himself carefully...
...was that vomit clinging to his skin...
“Oh...god!” His voice sounded horse and disgusting.
He suddenly wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep.
Either that or die.
Dave slowly screwed his eyes closed - even his eyelids hurt. How was that even possible.
Dave turned his head and whimpered into his pillow.
Why did he say yes to going out? Why did he say yes to celebratory...shots? Shots of...whatever the fuck that was...?
Why did he...
Suddenly a cool hand was stroking his forehead, which was quickly replaced by a cold washcloth...
Dave moaned at the sensation. The sensation of the cold cloth against his overheated and sweaty skin was amazing. He actually whimpered.
As he opened his eyes, Dave found himself staring into the concerned filled grey-green eyes of his boyfriend, Chris.
“Here.” Chris held up a bottle of Gatorade with a straw. “Drink this.”
Dave nodded and pulled the straw into his lips. As the orange powdery tasting liquid filled his throat, Dave thought he was going to vomit, again. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to swallow as much as he could.
The sensation of the icy liquid going down his throat actually felt amazing...he hadn’t realized he was so thirsty.
After drinking for about thirty seconds straight, Dave pulled back from the straw. He let himself look back up at Chris, fearing he would find judgment there. Instead, all he found was sympathy and adoration.
“You’re here.” Dave croaked out.
“Of course I am. I live here. Where else would I be?” Chris used the washcloth to wipe off Dave’s cheeks as well.
“Dunno...running away from your drunkard boyfriend?”
“Oh hush. I was drunk last night too...no where close to you, but certainly drunk.”
“How bad was I?” Dave let his eyes close again, relishing the feeling of the cool washcloth against his forehead.
“Pretty bad...”
“Did I throw up?”
“I’ve never seen quite that much vomit.”
“Oh god...I’m so sorry.”
“It’s ok...”
Dave groaned.
“Dave...really, it’s ok. I’m not upset. You deserved last night. I mean, how often are you going to be able to celebrate becoming head of queer issues at the Department of Public Health?”
“I did kick that interview’s ass, didn’t I?”
“Kick its ass? You did things to that interview’s ass that guys at the Eagle would be embarrassed to talk about!”
Dave stifled a laugh, mainly because it would have hurt too much to laugh.
“I’m really proud of you, babe. Even if you did try to stick your tongue down Jeff’s throat. And then vomit in our front hallway.”
“I what!?”
“Don’t worry...Jeff thought it was funny. And the vomit wasn’t too hard to clean up. Course, you did vomit a lot in the bathroom too.”
“Oh god...Kill me.”
“Nah. I love you too much to do that. How about I just file it in the back of my head to use against you as I see fit?”
“I think that is actually worse. How did I get so bad anyways?”
“Jess...how else?”
“Jess. Of course.”
“The two of you started in on tequila shots.”
“Oh god.”
“If it helps, she’s feeling just as bad as you are. She called a little while ago.”
“Good...god damn. She knows I go crazy when I have tequila.”
“You say crazy. I say sex maniac.”
“What did I do?”
“Tried to hump me outside the bar...for starters.”
“For starters? Oh....Chris...I...”
“Shush. If you had actually been able to stand up and, you know, not sound like you were some kind of bad Bob Dylan impersonator, I would totally have gone for it.”
Dave rolled onto his side and snuggled closer to Chris. He opened his eyes and looked up at the other man. “Thank you for looking after me.”
“You’re welcome.”
Dave glanced at the bedside table again. When he saw the date illuminated underneath the time, his blood ran cold. February 14th.
Fuck.
“Fuck!”
“What’s wrong?” Chris asked.
“I ruined Valentine’s Day.”
“No you didn’t!” Chris laughed. “Besides, you hate Valentine’s Day.”
“Well, yeah...but that doesn’t mean that I should be so hungover that I’m still in bed at three in the afternoon on a day I should be spending with you.”
“So, get up. And come hang out with me.”
“What are you doing?”
“Watching TV.”
“See...you’re not supposed to be just watching TV alone today. We should be doing something romantic!”
“Dave...really...you were celebrating getting a big new job yesterday! You are allowed to be hungover! I’m not mad at you...plus you hate Valentine’s Day!”
“Promise you’re not mad.”
“Yes. I promise. I really do. But if you want to come join me on the couch, I’d like that.”
“OK. What are you watching?”
“Lost.”
“I still can’t believe you never watched that!.”
“Come on...you can protect me from the smoke monster. Or we can watch a movie.”
“Can I pick?”
“No. Because you’re feeling like crap, which means you’re gonna want to watch Star Wars or something...”
“It makes me feel better.”
“Just get up. We can pick together. And I’ll order us Thai for for dinner...hot and sour soup for you.”
Chris pushed himself up and started towards the door leading to the rest of the apartment.
“Chris!” Dave called softly from the bed.
“Yeah, babe.” Chris turned around in the doorway, even with the room bathed in shadow, Dave could see the smile on the man’s face.
“I love you.”
“I know.”
*********************************
“I just don’t get how you find this movie entertaining...” Dave let his head flop back against the pile of cushions that he was propped up against on the couch. “Even the dialogue is bad.”
“It just is. And this coming from the man who owns The Phantom Menace...Now hush up.” Chris shot back from where he was lying in-between Dave’s legs, with his head against Dave’s chest.
“I needed to own the whole series - and I’ve never actually watched that one. Hey! You’re not even watching it. You have your eyes closed.”
“I don’t need to see it to know what’s going on.”
“That makes no sense...”
“You say the same thing about your movies all the time. And you agreed to watching Dune...so stop complaining.”
“I like complaining.”
“David…Dune is one of my favorite movies. You wanted to watch science fiction, and when I suggested this you said yes. So, hush up!”
“I’m the one suffering...”
“I have no sympathy for you. None at all.”
“Whatever. Can you pass me my soup...with you lying on top of me, I can’t reach it.”
Chris sighed in false exasperation as he heaved himself off the sofa, grabbing the soup container.
“Here. You feeling better?”
“Yeah. I am...my head still feels like someone is building a set of condos in there...but other than that, I’m ok.”
Chris turned over and pressed his lips to Dave’s forehead. “I’m sorry sweetheart.”
“Thanks.” Dave grinned up at his boyfriend. He reached out and ran a hand slowly across Chris’ face. Chris’ eyes fluttered shut at the sensation. Chris turned his head and pressed a kiss against Dave’s palm.
“Can we watch the rest of the movie now?” Chris said, smiling.
“Yeah yeah...I’ll try to be quiet. I just don’t get why Sting is in this...”
“And I don’t get how you can watch Star Wars every months, when you know every single line...every single one...so can we call it even?”
“Yeah. Fine. Watch your weird desert movie. But after this, I’m watching Jurassic Park.”
“Whatever, Dave-osaurus.” Chris turned back around and settled against Dave’s chest. Dave wrapped an arm around Chris, pulling him tightly against him. With the other, he took a drink of his soup.
He was constantly blown away by his life. By the life he got to live every single day of the year. He was floored that he had this person in his life. There were days when all this...it just seemed so surreal.
Three years...they’d been together for three years. And three years ago, Dave had been a lonely grad student who desperately needed a break from work. It was a break that would forever change his life...
*********************
Dave was just at the end of his graduate program in Public Policy at Georgetown, and was working on a major project with gay teens and sexual health risks. Plus, he was already taking part in a joint think tank between the university and the Office for Civil Rights, in the hope that he might land himself a job with that department once he graduated. It wasn’t quite the career in law that his dad had hoped for him...but it was damn close, as his dad told him when he saw him almost every weekend.
Now, normally on a Wednesday evening, Dave would be holed up in his tiny apartment reading, or maybe visiting his dad, doing his laundry while he worked on a paper, but tonight he’d had enough. But, after screaming in frustration over some new eighty page report he had to read, Dave gave up. He just couldn’t face it tonight. He’d made a note for himself that there was some big book signing at Books for America in Dupont Circle - the guy who had taken over George RR Martin’s A Song of Fire and Ice series was signing and answering questions. So, Dave grabbed his jacket, shoved a copy of the guy’s latest book into his messenger bag and took off. and , and he wanted to ask the bastard why he decided not to let the Game of Thrones series die...like it should!
As he hurried towards the closes Metro station, Dave felt decidedly naughty.
The signing, plus a rather uninspiring Q&A, had lasted about two hours Once the store had cleared of all the fantasy nerds, Dave decided to continue browsing...relishing in a night of freedom. As he browsed the Star Wars books, contemplating buying himself the latest Fate of the Jedi offering, someone cleared his throat behind him.
Dave turned around to face a stocky blond man wearing glasses. The man was short, but built like a linebacker...which threatens to make most shorter men appear overweight, but on him worked perfectly. His hair was very short - nearly a buzz-cut. He wore a pair of thin framed black glass, which actually drew attention to the startling grey-green shade of his eyes. Which actually took Dave’s breath away...they were deep and soulful and utterly beautiful.
Dave couldn’t stop the grin that started to form on his face.
The guy, however, was clearly too nervous to even notice...he kept shifting his weight between his feet and twisting his hands together.
He took a deep breath and then stammered out, “H-h-hello.”
“Hi.” Dave smiled. It was clear that this guy had been working up the nerve to say hello for a while, so he decided to help him out. “How are you?” And in the last five years, Dave had gotten very comfortable talking to guys. He still hated the cold open - which is what this guy was facing - but he was quite comfortable just talking to a guy.
“I’m ok. I...um...I really liked your question.” The poor guy looked like he was going to pass out soon.
“Oh? You were at the signing?”
“Yeah...I really liked the original books, so I wanted to hear what this guy had to say about the new series.”
“Mostly what I heard was that he wanted to make a lot of money.”
“Yeah...that pretty much summed it up. Are you a sci-fi fan?” The guy gestured towards the book in Dave’s hand.
“Yeah. I am. Big Star Wars fan. Always have been.”
“Cool - I’m more a fantasy or comic book guy myself.”
“Comics are awesome!” Dave grinned. “I have a huge collection of Batman stuff at home.”
“Cool. Fan of Batgirl?” He blurted out the question, as though desperately seeking for some common ground between them.
Dave smiled at the obvious attempt to make sure the conversation kept going. Having been there dozens of times himself, Dave knew how nerve wracking this kind of thing could be. So, nodding happily, Dave replied “Of course. I’d have to be dumb not to be.” Despite the fact that he’d maybe read like three issues of anything related to Batgirl.
“Barbara Gordon or Stephanie Brown?”
Dave remember the name Gordon...or was he just remembering Gary Oldman in the Batman movies....still, worth a try. “Barbara Gordon all the way!”
The guy nodded at this...contemplating it for a moment. Then, smiling as though he deemed the response acceptable, he held out his hand. “I’m Chris, by the way.”
“And I’m Dave. It’s nice to meet you.” Dave put out his own hand, and nearly swooned at the sheer strength in Chris’ hand.
“Yeah...um...would you like to have a coffee? We could just go to Firehook, its just around the corner.” Chris looked nervous again.
“Sure. I’d like that. You’ll have to lead the way - I don’t spend a lot of time in around Dupont Circle.”
“Cool!” Chris’ entire face lit up. “I’ll lead the way. Um...did you want to buy that first?” Chris nodded at the book Dave was still holding.
“No...I have something much better to occupy myself with tonight.” God...was that cheesy? That was cheesy...Dave kicked mentally kicked himself.
Chris’ smile seemed to grow even larger. “I’m glad. Come on...while we walk, I’ll explain why Stephanie Brown is far superior as Batgirl.”
Dave found himself wanting nothing more than to listen to Chris talk about comic books...or whatever else he felt like talking about. “Try it. I’m sure I can be convinced.”
“Wait till I start lending you copies of her series...” Chris stopped, suddenly realizing that he had just suggested they would be seeing a lot more of each other.”
Dave reached out and put his hand on the small of Chris’ back. “I look forward to reading them.” He said softly.
Chris just blushed.
“So, how long did it take you to work up the nerve to talk me?”
“From the moment you walked in the store...” Chris muttered, barely loud enough for Dave to hear.
*********************
“What are you thinking about?” Chris was suddenly pressing his lips against Dave’s. Dave hadn’t even realized the other man had moved off of his chest, much less was now kneeling next to him on the couch, with an amused look on his face.
Dave must have looked a million miles away.
Dave smiled at Chris. “About the day we met.”
“Oh? Were you reflecting on how insanely awkward and inarticulate I was?”
“You weren’t that bad...”
“I almost peed myself three times trying to work up the nerve to talk to you! And the only thing I could think of to talk about was Batgirl - which you lied about read, by the way.”
“I thought it was cute. And I wanted to seem all cool and knowledgeable so you would keep talking to me.”
“Now that’s cute...sexy even.”
“Thanks...still think I’m sexy?”
“You’re sexy no matter what.”
“You are a very accomplished liar. I doubt that last night I was all that sexy.”
“Uh huh...something about that much vomit, well it takes the magic away. But the magic is right back there today, so nothing to worry about. You’re still sexy.”
“You know all the right things to say...”
“...so why the memory lane trip?”
“Just thinking about it...no actual reason. I guess sometimes I just can’t get over how my life turned out.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know... eight years ago, this right here was nothing more than just some fantasy. Eight years ago, the only thing possible outcome I could see to my life was...death. But now...”
“Dave...stop! You survived. Remember that! You survived! You fought to get out of that damn place...you ended up getting a scholarship to one of the best universities in the country. You didn’t die that day...you lived. And I am so happy you did. And now, look at you! You’re working in public mental health - on gay teen issues. Dave, you’re the success story. You’re proof that it does get better. As far as I’m concerned, you’re like some kind of role model to all those other closeted, self-hating teenagers out there. You got out. You’re not off visiting the glory-holes every weekend, while pretending to be straight...or worse, you’re not buried six feet under”
Dave couldn’t help the tears. He nodded. “I hated myself so much...I hated…I was so confused and didn't...” Dave pressed his forehead against Chris’.
“Shhhh...You made it out, Dave. You went through hell as a teenager, so stop acting like you don’t deserve it.”
“I certainly don’t deserve you...”
“Shut up! You do...” Chris slapped the side of Dave’s head.
“Even when you have to clean up my tequila vomit on Valentine’s Day...” Dave smiled.
“Even then. I’m glad you’re here...”
Dave wrapped his arms around Chris, hugging him tightly. Dave shut his eyes and breathed in deeply Chris’ scent. He marveled at the sensation of bulky, muscular package in his arms. It never ceased to amaze him. He felt Chris slither down his body until he fit the top of his head into the nook directly his chin.
Eight years ago...this would have been a pipe dream for him. Eight years ago...this was a fantasy. Now he got to live it each and every day.
They lay like that for a long time, with Dune playing quietly in the background.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Dave.”
Dave smiled. Nodding, he whispered, “Happy Valentine’s Day to you Chris.”
*********
Dave was trying very hard to pay attention to what was going on in the movie, but if he was going to be really honest...this damn film bored him to death. Keeping his eyes open, he ignored the disgusting burning feeling in his stomach and let his mind wander.
February 14th.
Dave hated Valentine’s Day.
Hated it.
As far as he was concerned, it was one of the most useless holidays ever invented. And, as far as he was concerned, it was an invented holiday, regardless of what wikipedia might say.
Even after three years with Chris, Dave hated Valentine’s Day...despite Chris’ obvious attempts at winning Dave’s affections to the side of romance.
It had started with Dinner at The Little Fountain Cafe, drinks at Veritas Wine Bar and finally a walk along The Mall - where Chris gave Dave a leather and silver bracelet by the Washington Monument.
But as special as the day had been, Dave just...just couldn’t find it in him to embrace the idea of Valentine’s Day.
Mainly because Valentine’s Day usually just meant rejection.
Traditionally, Valentine’s Day found Dave kicked to the curb...or just utterly depressed.
When he was seventeen...sitting alone in his room, he entertained the idea of swallowing a bottle of sleeping pills.
When he was eighteen...well, his heart had been broken into a million little pieces.
When he was nineteen...he was still unable to even entertain the idea of romance or a relationship...
At Twenty...he’d been dumped. On Valentine’s Day.
At Twenty-one...stood up, by a hook from Squirt.
At Twenty-Two...that one, he’d spent alone eating an extra large pizza, a pint of Chunky Monkey and watching Bridget Jones’ Diary. And porn.
At Twenty-Three...drunk and high, he wound up in some guy’s bed, after spending the night at The Green Lantern.
And at Twenty-Four...Chris had entered the picture.
But Chris had given him one good Valentine’s amongst how many bad ones? Dave just didn’t trust Valentine’s Day...Valentine’s Day was out to get him...
Even today...he was hungover as shit. Unable to do anything romantic with Chris, not even have a glass of wine. All he could do, today, was lie here and watch bad sci-fi
Disappointment.
As Dave lay on the couch with Chris, watching Sting run around a desert planet, he let his mind ponder over the last eight years...especially the last eight Valentine's Days...
He knew where this bad luck streak had started...he could practically pin point it. February 14th, 2012...the day he’d admitted his feelings to one Kurt Hummel.
Kurt Hummel...it had been, well if he was going to be honest, it had only been a few weeks since he’d thought of that name.
Regardless of what he was doing, Kurt Hummel still followed him around. Not in the way that one might think...it wasn’t a ‘the one that got away’ sort of thing, but more a ghost or whisper of the past...one of those shadows that sort of stayed with you.
Kurt Hummel...Dave’s first big love.
Kurt Hummel had saved him. Saved him multiple times over, in fact.
Kurt had known that to an extent. Dave had told him so on that ill-fated Valentine’s Day all those years ago. But Kurt had never known the full extent of what he had done for Dave.
Kurt had kept his promise. He had helped Dave through some of the worst days of his life. He’d been there on the day Dave came home from the hospital. He’d been there when Dave’s mother’s church group had practically assaulted Dave with reprogramming literature. He’d been there when Dave’s dad had finally filed for divorce. He’d been there when Dave re-enrolled at McKinley. He went with Dave to his first gay youth group. He’d always been on the other end of the phone when the nightmares threatened to overtake Dave. He was there when Dave ran into a few kids of his old school. He had been there while Dave suffered through all the side effects of his anti-depressants - the numbness, the weight gain, the anxiety...all of it.
And somehow, perhaps because of those reasons, their friendship changed. Shifted. And one day, Kurt was there in an entirely different way. Asking Dave to be something that was much greater than friends.
And suddenly, Kurt had become Dave’s first.
First love.
First real kiss.
First time.
And then, he became Dave’s first - and second - major heartbreak.
Throughout their long and sordid story, Kurt had managed to utterly destroy Dave’s heart at least a dozen times...sometimes he did so without even knowing it...like just the fact that Kurt even existed managed to break Dave’s heart.
Dave’s inability to be brave enough to tell Kurt about his sexuality...
Kurt’s face each and every time Dave bulled him.
Kurt’s face after that fatal first kiss.
At prom when he asked Dave to dance.
At Scandals...looking lost and uncomfortable as his boyfriend danced with another boy.
When Kurt said the words: “I’m with Blaine…”
…and then “I want to get to know you as friends…”
Then the miracle happened and Dave got a chance to be with Kurt...
And then...the biggest heartbreak of all. The one that left Dave decimated.
Dave had tired to get over Kurt...he’d tried so hard. But Kurt had seeped into his brain. Into his heart. And as hard as Dave worked to keep their relationship platonic, something just kept forcing them together. And eventually Dave lowered his defenses and let Kurt in.
Whatever those forces had been...a mutual trust, teenage longing, or something else, something closer to love - the friendship fell away and Dave found himself with a boyfriend.
As Dave’s eyes ran over the figure of the man that he now shared his life with - nearly eight years after those fleeting summer months - he found that he couldn’t help but wonder about Kurt.
Where was Kurt living? Did he stay in New York? Did he become a king of Broadway...although, Dave figured that he hadn’t, since Dave did occasionally read Broadway blogs.
Did he have a partner?
A family, maybe?
What would Kurt think of Dave’s life?
All those years ago, in the hospital, Kurt had urged Dave to imagine a life for himself ten years in the future...with a husband. A child. A home. A job...
That very fantasy had been the one thing that Dave had held on to through the dark days and the heartbreaks. The idea that somewhere out there was the perfect life for himself.
“I’m so happy right now.”
Dave hadn’t even realized he’d said that aloud until Chris turned his head slightly, and smiling, replied. “I am too babe. I couldn’t be happier.”
Chris turned back to the television and continued watching the movie in silence, unaware that his boyfriend’s brain was meandering the long untravelled roads of his past. Unaware that all Dave could really focus on the image of Kurt Hummel...
There was no real reason for Dave to be thinking about Kurt at this moment. No reason for Kurt to even be relevant in Dave’s life.
Except...except it was Valentine’s Day. And as far as Dave was concerned, that meant it was Kurt’s day. Valentine’s Day had marked the start of Dave’s fight back from the brink of death. It was the day when Dave had spilled his heart to Kurt...which eventually lead Kurt to open himself up the possibility of a relationship.
“Do you…ever…still think of me like you did in February?”
Valentine’s Day might have marked the start of Dave’s downfall and eventual resurrection as a gay man...as a man who fought to scrap out a life for himself, but it also marked the moment the moment when Dave’s greatest heartbreak had begun.
“Every single day.”
Kurt might have hurt him. Might have shattered him. Might have marked Valentine’s Day as the worst day in history, as far as Dave was concerned, but his presence in Dave’s life held another significant role.
He had given Dave hope.
Real hope.
He had given Dave the ability to see into his future...and what he witnessed there had driven him.
This moment…lying on his brand new couch from Room & Board, with his arms wrapped around the man he loved more than anything else in the entire world, watching some 80s sci-fi film…was the fulfillment of that hope.
Kurt…
Kurt…
Kurt needed to know. Needed to know how big of an impact he had.
Dave needed Kurt to know that the hope he’d given, the love they’d shared…had helped. That Dave was living his dream.
“I’m so happy right now.”
Dave pressed his face into Chris’s hair, breathing in deeply. He knew he had to try. He had to try to tell Kurt…
It was time to find the man who had changed his life so remarkably.
Next Chapter - Back To McKinley.