The Man I Used To Know (Chapter Four/?)
Title: The Man I Used To Know
Author: Pulpobsessed
Pairing: Dave Karofsky/Kurt Hummel, Kurt Hummel/OMC, Dave Karofsky/OMC
Characters: Kurt, Dave, OCs
Rating: R
Summary: 8 years after the events of On My Way. Kurt begins a journey that will force him to face his past and Dave is tested in a way he never expected.
Genre: FutureFic
Disclaimer: I only own those characters I made up…Anything associated with Glee belongs to some other guys.
Previious Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3
A/N: Back to "present time" - there is a lot of me in this chapter, I was surprised just how much my life became events in Dave and Kurt's lives. This one took me a little while to get out…I wasnt sure how I was going to direct it, but I'm pleased with it now. FYI: I will be on vacation for a week, so won't be doing any writing until after the 25th…so the next chapter will be a little while coming. But I'll make it a good one…until then, enjoy!
Chapter 4.
He taps at my window,
Willing that I'll let him in.
I don't think I will though
My heart's taken I won't tell him again.
Laura Marling, “Tap At My Window.”
*2020*
*New York City*
Kurt was flabbergasted. Utterly and completely flabbergasted.
He really didn’t know what on earth had happened...how could his skills fail him like this!?
Completely unreal.
Kurt was a master at online searching...he could find anyone or anything in a matter of minutes!
He could could find the most obscure website. The rarest of items for sale.
He was king of Google. Emperor of Wikipedia. God of Facebook.
And yet...all of his online skills seemed to have evaporated overnight!
For the past two weeks, Kurt had using any means imaginable to find some information on Dave Karofsky, and so far has come up with nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
He’d started with a simple Google search...which should have been the end of it, but instead had just made him doubt his normally phenomenal Google skills. After entering Dave’s name into Google’s search box, he got a bunch of hits, but nothing relevant.
The first hit had been about Dave’s successes as junior high school football linebacker.
Then, a blog Dave had run in his first year of college at Georgetown.
Even a few articles Dave had written on various GLBTQ issues on campus.
But for some reason, that was where the trail went cold.
It was as though Dave Karofsky had just disappeared off the face of the planet around 2015.
And so, Kurt revised the search about a dozen times - from Dave Karofsky to Dave Karofsky Georgetown to Dave Karofsky sports agent...medicine...law school...Washington, DC...
He was pretty sure that he had used every single combination possible. But still, nothing. Not a twitter account. Not a Facebook page. Not an email address. Not a work webpage. Nothing.
Which really made no sense at all. How the hell does one exist in the 21st century without some kind of online presence.
There wasn’t even an online dating profile!
The first few days, Kurt had been annoyed at his lack of success. After a week, Kurt started to get annoyed at Dave for not even being decent enough to even have a Facebook page!
But after two weeks, Kurt started to get freaked out.
What if Dave was dead?
No...that was highly unlikely. Kurt would certainly have head about that!
They technically still had some friends in common...right?
What if Dave had changed his name?
Or, and this was the scariest of all the options, maybe, the reason it was so hard to find Dave was simply because, Dave wanted it that way. What if he’d intentionally made it so Kurt could never find or talk to him again?
That possibility was terrifying.
Kurt let his head fall into his hands as he sat hunched over on his couch, his laptop open on his coffee table, and groaned. What on earth had pushed him to start looking for Dave Karofsky...all it was doing was dredging up a lot of dirty laundry.
Not to mention causing more than one sleepless night.
Kurt lifted his head and stared at his computer screen, again. Nothing had changed since the last time he’d looked at it. At present, it showed his latest search results - for bear cubs, Lima, Ohio, and Dave.
He’d gotten about twenty thousand porn hits...even one guy from Lima who was advertising himself as the ultimate in kinky sex, with a webcam to prove it. Kurt had almost clicked on that link, but at the last second decided that, no, in fact, Dave would never do that sort of thing.
Plus, Dave was long out of Lima.
He flopped back against his sofa, and glanced over at his cat - Vicki Lester, named after Judy Garland in A Star is Born - who was sitting on her favorite spot: a large pile of blankets on top of a oversized leather ottoman. Vicki pretty much owned the apartment. It was a well known fact that while Kurt inhabited 113C - 57 10th Street, Vicki pretty much ruled the place with a benevolent ambivalence.
For such a small creature, she took up a lot of space.
Kurt loved his apartment. There was nothing in his life that he was more proud of. It was a 700 square foot, one-bedroom, apartment on the top floor of a refurbished depression-era walk-up on the north-side of Prospect Park in Park Slope. His living room window overlooked the park, giving him a direct view of the fields, where shirtless men played touch football or rugby in the summer. As well as giving him a decent view of the occasional outdoor concert. Two blocks southwest is the Pavilion Cinema, which he frequents at least a couple times a week. And a little further southwest is his favorite ice cream spot. Plus, he was within walking distance of the Brooklyn Public Library, a bunch of cafes, and most importantly The Brownstone Bagel Company...which had kept him alive during his first few weeks living here. And of course, the park itself - which had become much more than just an area for him. It had become a friend - a place he could go to when he’s feeling sad, or lonely, or restless. Sunday afternoons in the summer, sitting and reading in the park, had become his favorite activity of the entire year.
The apartment itself is warmly decorated. Kurt’s favorite color, royal blue, is reflected throughout. His couch is a deep royal blue, accented with a number of white pillows and throw rugs. On either side of the couch are two solid light brown oak side tables, each adorned with small table lamps. Kurt’s coffee table is the same color as the side tables, and directly underneath the coffee table is a checkered beige and dark blue space rug. Tucked under the windows at the far side of the room is a large overstuffed blue chair, with the leather ottoman placed directly in front of it.
Throughout the living room are bookcases...against almost every wall...and all of them are full, almost to the point of overflowing. When he was younger, such disregard for organization or tidiness would have driven him insane, but while at university, he became obsessed with books and owning copies of his favorite musical scores. He also owned dozens of biographies - especially those of his favorite choreographers, composers, artists, writers, designers. Plus, novels, collections of poetry, stuff on the history of theatre, and almost any book he could find on New York. Sure, he owned an iPad and often did a lot of reading on that, but he loved the feel of a book, the smell of a book, the sensation of turning pages slowly and savoring each word.
And so, Kurt Hummel had become a bibliophile. Hell, he even had managed to spread his book addiction into the kitchen with a growing collection of cookbooks.
His incredibly small kitchen is visible from the living room just behind a small breakfast bar, with two stools, that separates the room. Kurt’s kitchen is meticulously organized, and always spotless...mainly, because it was so small. He could never really afford to let any dirty plates or dishes sit around...as they took up too much space.
The rest of the apartment was really a complete testament to relaxation and comfort. Kurt had painted his walls a soft muted off-white - which let his deep blue furniture shine, and had a strangely calming effect on him.
He’d decorated his walls with dozens of theatre posters - most of them collected from friends in the industry. But, of course, his most prized possessions were his framed PlayBills. He’s started collecting them when he first arrived in New York when he went to see Once with Rachel and a couple other NYADA freshmen. Ever since then, if he went to the theatre, and got a PlayBill, it got framed and put up with the rest of the collection. He had well over fifty by now…Wicked, West Side Story, Sweeney Todd, The Book of Mormon, Jesus Christ Superstar, even A Streetcar Named Desire starring Maggie Gyllenhaal...and the best part was that all of them were signed.
Those took up a significant amount of space on the wall next to the window, above his chair. He loved them there because he could see them when he sat on his couch. And when he sat in his favorite chair, it felt like he was being watched by the eyes of Broadway’s greatest creations.
Just off from the living room was a small hallway, Kurt’s tiny bathroom - which miraculously held a claw footed bathtub - as well as his equally small bedroom. However, despite it’s small size, Kurt had created a small haven in his bedroom. A simple twin bed that was piled high with blankets and pillows. A exorbitantly expensive pillow top cover for his mattress and, of course, a memory foam mattress and pillows.
The bedroom was done up in a deep comforting green - making the room seem even smaller, and yet somehow extremely cozy. The blankets on the bed are a light brown. Next to the bed was a dark brown side table - holding a lamp, iPod alarm clock dock, a few books, a photo of Kurt with some of his friends. On the other side of the bed was a small dresser - its top was covered with photographs of Kurt’s friends and family, as well as a small collection of Broadway Magazine in a fancy magazine holder. And against the wall, next to the closet door, was a small bookcase - filled to the brim with books.
On the walls, across from the bed, Kurt had hung a print he’d bought at MoMA just after moving into the apartment. And directly above the bed hung the poster for the first production that Kurt had ever directed for the Brooklyn Academy of Music - a massive production of Waiting for Godot.
Yeah...Kurt had found his real home wasn’t on stage, but behind it.
When he had come to New York City, Kurt had been absolutely sure that he was going to end up on the Broadway stage. He was one hundred-percent positive that he would walk out of NYADA and immediately land himself the role Fiyero in Wicked.
That enduring dream of his name in lights on a marquee outside The Gershwin haunted him at every step. It was all he wanted. All he dreamed of as a teenager. To be honest, despite everything that happened in his junior and senior years, that dream was all he could really think about...it was the one thing he held onto and deemed most precious in his life.
And then...he arrived in New York. And suddenly, he found himself surrounded by hundreds of like minded gay men...all with the same dream: to be the next John Cameron Mitchell or Anthony Rapp.
It was in his third semester at NYADA, just after he’d been cast as a member of the chorus in a school production of Kiss of the Spiderwoman, that he started to think about alternatives to acting. Then came the very first time he actually picked producing over acting. It was during a production of Pippin - he was giving the option of either doing the chorus thing again or assistant stage managing.
He chose the latter.
And immediately fell in love.
A year and a half later, Kurt graduated with a BFA in Performing Arts in one hand, while in the other he held an acceptance letter to Columbia’s graduate program in theatre management and producing.
And despite Rachel’s hour long speech on how disappointing it was that he had decided to give up on the only dream that was actually worth having, Kurt felt right at home running things behind the scenes. It was freeing in some ways - when he was on stage he always felt hemmed in by what the producer or artistic director wanted, but when he stepped behind the scenes, he could take control. And it was...empowering.
And so, he ignored Rachel’s pleas to stay the course. And that September, he walked into Columbia University with his head held high and ready to change the face of American theatre.
And he absolutely love the program! It was intense, no doubt about it, but then again, Kurt could be rather intense. The best part of the whole experience had been the internships - the first was with 321 Management - the producers of Wicked - where he got all kinds of experience learning how to stage manage, assistant state manage, and starting the process of learning how to produce and manage a theatre company. The second and third internship had been with the Lincoln Center - where he got to work with both the ballet and opera. But the fourth had been his favorite and perhaps had been the most exciting...with BAM. In the end it had been the one to totally change his life.
A month before he was slated to turn in his final thesis, BAM offered him a job.
And here he was, almost a year and a half later, working as part of the artistic direction team for BAM’s new musical theatre program. He had aspirations - which were not entirely unwarranted, according to the current artistic director, to eventually become BAM’s artist director.
Kurt smiled as his eyes flickered over to the pile of work he’d intended to to get through over the weekend. BAM was preparing to start casting on a totally new musical - written by a team of BAM students in the playwriting seminars from the summer before. Kurt was not only on the creative team behind the production, but he was also assistant producing, it and would probably help stage-managing it.
Which meant that he had a lot of work to do.
But instead of making himself a fresh cup of tea and sitting down to go through the latest draft of the script for a production meeting scheduled for Monday morning, he was sitting here typing in random searches into Google in the attempt to find Dave Karofsky.
He looked over at Vicki again. “Why am I making myself miserable over a man I haven’t seen or heard from in eight years!”
The cat barely lifted her head. Glared at him momentarily. And then closed her eyes again.
Kurt sighed. “Little help you are.”
He pushed himself off the sofa and walked into the kitchen. He turned on the tap and filled the kettle. Then started the sometimes hourly argument with himself about exactly what kind of tea he wanted.
He had just started to debate whether he wanted peppermint or his latest favorite Glitter & Gold from David’s Tea. David’s Tea...Dave...Dave Karofsky...
Fuck!
Sighing, Kurt grabbed the Glitter&Gold tin. He slammed it down onto the counter and popped the lid off. As he was spooning some into his tea strainer, his phone alerted him to a text message.
Kurt put down his tea and walked back into the living room.
Bryan.
Again.
Kurt had managed to avoid the man for the first week, but after seven days, his excuses of working a lot just wasn’t cutting it anymore. Kurt had never really been good at dishing out rejection - he was the guy who went on dates long after the relationship was dead and rotting, just because he didn’t want to hand a guy his walking papers.
That hesitancy probably came from the whole thing with Dave...
Which meant, in this case, that Kurt really didn’t know how to tell Bryan that he just wasn’t interested...or at least he wasn’t sure if he was interested or not.
Kurt’s plan to find Dave, well it had implanted the idea that maybe Dave would be single... maybe Dave would be open to some kind of thing with him again. But at the same time, Kurt really had to be realistic about all this. What were the chances that Dave would be single? And, for that matter, what would the chances be that Dave would even want to have something with Kurt again?
Wishful thinking...
And then there was this whole inability to even find information about Dave...much less find a way to get in touch with the man.
Kurt picked up his phone and walked back into the kitchen. As he poured the water into his tea cup, he opened the text message.
Hey! Ok, gonna try this one last time…I’m free for dinner or drinks, or whatever, tonight. Feel like hanging out?
Kurt opened the fridge and pulled out the milk carton. He poured a small amount into the tea. As he watched the milk slowly cloud the amber liquid, he couldn’t help but wonder what the harm would be in meeting Bryan for a drink.
Before he could really double guess himself, Kurt pressed the call button at the top of the text message screen. He sipped his tea as he listened to Bryan’s phone ringing.
He really hoped this wasn’t going to be a mistake...or some kind of weird psychological thing, seeing as how similar Dave and Bryan looked.
“Kurt!” Bryan sounded not only genuinely surprised to hear from him, but also deliriously happy.
“Hey...look, I just want to say I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.”
“No, don’t apologize, ok. I came on like way too strong...I apologize. But I am really glad you called.”
“Well, I feel like I was being a jerk.”
“You are pretty good at it - avoiding me, not being a jerk...of course you know that it just made me more determined.”
“I had no idea.” Kurt smiled as he thought about the flirty texts and voice mails he’d received over the past couple weeks.
“Yeah. So...can I assume that my text inspired this call, huh?”
“It did. Yes.”
“Does that mean I can take you out for a drink?”
“That depends on where you want to take me.”
“Oh? Crap, does this mean I have to impress you?”
“Yes...actually...it does.”
“Well...what kind of place do you usually go to?”
“Oh, you want me to make it easy for you, huh?”
“Fine...at least tell me where you live.”
“Park Slope. That’s all I’m giving you.” Kurt smiled as he sipped his tea.
“Park Slope. Hmmmm - well how do you feel about Williamsburg?”
“It’s overrated and every guy that lives there is too skinny for his own good.”
“I live in Williamsburg.”
“Fine - you’re the exception to the rule.”
“Would you be interested in coming down here?”
“And what would we be doing?”
“Do you like oysters?”
“Would you believe me if I said I’ve never tried one?”
“No...actually I wouldn’t.”
“Its true! I’m a country boy from Ohio, unless it was dipped in beer-batter and deep fried until unrecognizable, I never ate fish!”
“God, that’s sad.”
“I know...I do love fish.”
“Well then, can I tempt you to try your first oyster?”
“I could be tempted.” Kurt moved away from the kitchen counter to sit back down on his sofa. He brought his computer back to life. He stared at the words in the Google search bar: David Karofsky.
For two weeks, Dave had been all he’d been thinking about. He was so certain that he needed to find Dave...needed to reconnect. And that certainty had all been because of the man he was now talking to on the phone.
What was Dave doing tonight? Would Dave be with friends? With a boyfriend? Would he be going to a bar and picking someone up? Would he think about Kurt?
The answer to that last question would probably be a certified no.
So, why then, was Kurt torturing himself with these insane thoughts about a man he had not seen in eight years.
Kurt suddenly realized that he’d gotten so lost in his thoughts that he’d missed something Bryan had said.
“Sorry...what?”
“I was asking if you’d like meet at eight...but then I got worried you’d hung up on me.”
“I’m sorry...ummm...I just saw a work email come in. I’m sorry, but...” Kurt had to decide. Say yes to the handsome man on the phone and have an enjoyable Saturday night, or run the risk of a lonely Saturday night while vainly searching for his ex-boyfriend...
...”I wold love to meet up for a drink and some oysters.”
“Really?!”
“Yes, you sound totally shocked.”
“I am...I was ready to totally give up on you.”
“I’m really sorry about leading you on and ignoring you for the last two weeks...I’ve had a lot of things going on.”
“Kurt, it’s ok...I have no idea why I became so persistent, but for some reason I just couldn’t get you out of my head. I was worried I was becoming that really creepy guy that you tell your friends about, and eventually take a restraining order out on.”
“I did think about the restraining order a couple times...”
“Is that why the police have been following me?”
“No...that must have been the other guys you’ve harassed.”
“Harassed...buried in my backyard...same thing, right?”
“Excuse me while I go find my stun gun for tonight.”
“I’ve built up an immunity to electricity.”
“Well there goes my last line of defense.”
“Right...ok, so the place I want to take you is Akarbia. I can meet you at the Subway station for 14th and Canarsie - you have to take the L.”
“Sure. At eight?”
“Yeah...is that ok for you?”
“I think it’ll be great.”
“Cool...and thanks for...”
“How about you thank me after the date, otherwise you might slip into the desperate realm.”
“Right...not cool at all. So I’ll see you at eight?”
“Sounds great.” Kurt smiled again.
As Kurt hung up, he couldn’t help but wonder exactly what was going to come out of the evening. Was he going out with Bryan simply because he reminded Kurt so much of Dave. Was there any romantic interest there on Kurt’s part...or was this simply an excuse to go on a date?
Kurt glanced over at his sleeping cat. She was clearly not going to be able to offer any words of wisdom on the matter. So, sighing once again, Kurt pulled his laptop onto his lap and started the search again.
Just because he was going on a date didn’t mean he couldn’t keep going on the search.
As he stared at his computer screen...inspiration hit him.
“Of course!”
Kurt moved his cursor to his Mail client and he opened up a new message.
Yes...he may finally have figured out the perfect way to find Dave.
And suddenly...all thoughts of his impending date vanished.
*********************
*Washington, DC.*
It had been raining for three days straight. Three days! And so far, there was no actual sign that it was going to let up anytime soon.
The sky over Washington DC was an angry and furious slate grey that spat ice cold pellets of rain down on to the nation’s capital. The city, which until then had been enjoying an unseasonably warm winter, was in a state of shock. Scarves had been yanked from closets and wrapped around necks. Gloves had been rescued from the bottom of drawers or baskets under the bed had been pulled on to try and block out the freezing wind and prevent frost bite. Even seasoned residents had run to the nearest Macy’s or Marshall’s to find some kind of parka that would help them stay warm.
Yes, winter had blown into town and from the looks of it, it wasn’t going away anytime soon.
At least that’s what the national weather channel was telling Dave as he sat on his couch with the rain and wind attacking his windows.
Dave shivered involuntarily, as though the combination of the weather report and the sound of the rain had some how caused the temperature of the room to plummet. He pulled the large brown fleece blanket around himself and considered making himself another cup of coffee - which would be his third of the day. Dave picked up the remote for the TV and switched to AMC - they were supposed to be showing The Hunger Games at three, and even though Dave owned the entire trilogy on Blu-Ray 3D, he still got excited whenever it was on TV.
It was ten to three.
Enough time to make a coffee and grab a snack.
He wandered into his surprisingly spacious kitchen and started to prepare another pot of coffee.
While it was brewing, he started to rummage through the fridge. His eyes stopped on the left-over cheese cake from dinner last night...but if he ate that, he’d be in major trouble. Chris was saving it for later tonight...
Instead, Dave started pulling out cheese, salami, pickles, and olives. Then he grabbed a box of RainCoast crisps from the cupboard.
Just as the opening music of the movie started to play, Dave poured himself a cup of coffee, grabbed his plate and flopped back down onto the couch.
God, he loved rainy Saturdays.
Especially when Chris was out...it meant that he could sit around in his underwear, watch movies and eat whatever he wanted all day long.
Which was exactly what he was doing - he was wearing a pair of hideous boxer shorts that showed off his muscular legs and the small arrangement of stars tattooed on his calves. He was also wearing an old t-shirt and his favorite bright red hoodie.
And he’d been eating steadily all day long.
Already in his mind he was planning on making a homemade pizza for dinner...and if Chris wasn’t home in time for dinner, well too bad. Dave could easily polish one off on his own.
And there was plenty of that fucking amazing spicy sausage still in the fridge...plus they had that huge thing of mozzarella that they bought at the Italian grocery store last week.
Dave leaned back against the couch and popped another cracker, piled with cheese, sausage, cheese and a pickle on top, into his mouth. Yeah..this was the life.
Of course, he would rather spend the day with Chris, but for some reason his boyfriend had decided this would be a perfect day to go hangout with his friends and play racquetball or something...
Actually Dave had no idea where Chris was or what he was doing.
Dave frowned at the TV as he chewed thoughtfully...this was rare. Normally they always told each other where they were going and what they would be doing...so why, exactly, had Chris not said anything.
Or had he?
Did Dave just not listen to him?
No...that’s not right at all. Dave remembered asking Chris where he was going...the response had been “out”.
But where exactly was “out”?
It wasn’t that Dave didn’t trust Chris. He trusted him unconditionally. There was no doubt about that. But it was strange that Chris would just go out and not tell him where.
He stared at the TV screen. No longer focused on what was happening, which sucked cause he loved this movie.
Finally, sighing, he picked up his phone and send Chris a text message.
Hey babe. I’m all lonely at home. Are you coming home soon?
Yeah...that did not sound too needy right?
Like fuck it didn’t - it was completely needy.
Whatever. Dave pressed send.
He then stared at his phone for at least a good five minutes, willing it to make a noise.
Nothing.
He opened up a different text message window.
Hey. You free? Call me.
And pressed send.
Putting his phone down, he turned his attention back to the movie.
Deep in the recesses of his brain, he knew that Chris would never cheat on him or anything like that...but he still worried.
Dave closed his eyes for a second. Forcing himself to focus back on the movie. Forcing himself to push those niggling thoughts to the back of his mind. He opened his eyes and sat back against the couch, clutching his coffee cup in both hands.
As he got slowly sucked into the movie - thoughts of Chris still tickling the back of his brain - he couldn’t help but think about the first time he saw this movie.
Back in 2012. With Kurt.
It had been just before everything started to go weird between him and Kurt...which meant it was just before the moment when Dave found himself with a boyfriend.
But beyond all that weirdness, The Hunger Games...well, they had saved Dave’s life in some strange way.
Dave remembered loving the books when he first read them. Perhaps, love was too weak a word...he’d been obsessed with them. There was something in them that just called out to him. Something that drew him in and made him want to know more. Made him want to be a part of that world...as violent and horrendous as it was.
The books had been a life raft he could hold on to. But, then again, Dave had always been like that, using other worlds to escape from what was going on around him. Normally, he turned to comic books...but The Hunger Games, well they just sparked his unique imagination.
After his suicide attempt, and the parade of medication that followed it, he just couldn’t summon up the desire to find or embrace that imaginative part of his brain...much less be interested in something to help him find it again.
He remembered those first four weeks. He refused to engage in anything. He just couldn’t do it - there was no energy or interest there. He would lie on the couch and stare off into space. Unseeing.
His dad had tried everything - comic books, movies, video games. Kurt had appeared almost daily, ready to try and engage Dave in anything that might help break the stupor Dave found himself in.
He could remember Kurt sitting on the couch, with Dave’s head in Kurt’s lap, reading aloud the latest issue of Batman aloud. Dave couldn’t remember a single word Kurt read, he could remember not feeling a think about it. Normally the opportunity to be that close to Kurt would have sent him over the edge, would have made his year - no scratch that, his millennium. But he just couldn’t care. He couldn’t feel anything. Couldn’t feel happy. Couldn’t feel excited. He couldn’t even feel as though the moment was real.
He remembered Kurt paused in his reading. He remembered Kurt looking down at him.
“You’re crying.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be sorry.”
“Ok. I’ll…try to be better.”
“Oh Dave…don’t…you’re just perfect.”
“No I’m not. I’m broken.”
“We’ll get you through this, I promise. We’re going to find a way to fix you.”
“I’m scared, Kurt…I don’t feel anything. I don’t feel sad. I don’t feel happy. I don’t feel anything. I just feel…nothing.”
He remembered Kurt went into the kitchen, not long after that conversation, crying. He remembered Kurt and Dave’s dad having a rather long - tearful - talk. And then, ten minutes later, Dave was being driven to his doctor’s office, where he was taken off whatever medication he’d been on.
It had been in the doctor’s waiting room that a plan began to form.
He’d been sitting in one of those stiff, generic chairs, staring down at his feet. He’d felt Kurt’s hand slip into his.
“Ok, tell me one thing you want to do when you feel better.”
“Dunno.”
“Yes you do. Come on, David. Please try…”
“It’s hard…my brain is all fuzzy.”
“I know…I know. But maybe if you have something to focus on…”
“The Hunger Games.” Dave practically spat out.
“…huh? Ok, what about them?”
“I really like the books. I wanted to go see the movie. I…I want to go see the movie.”
“OK! Then we’ll go see it. Together. But you need to get better first, ok?”
“Yeah. I don’t want to disappoi…”
“Finish that sentence and you’ll regret it.”
Dave had no idea that focusing on something like a movie could actually make a difference in his life. But it did...it gave him something to focus on. Something to think about. As the numbness started to wear off, and just before the nausea started, Dave and Kurt started to make plans.
Dave remembered that he still had trouble getting out of bed or even doing the most normal of tasks every day. But still, that promise, as small as it was - to go see a movie together - pushed him.
Pushed him harder than anything ever could.
It was so small. It was so simple. But at the same time it was so complex. Getting to hang out in public with Kurt. Going back into the real world. Stepping through his front door and announcing to the world that he hadn’t died. That he’d survived. And he would keep on surviving.
And so, everyday got a little better...everyday he got a little closer.
One day he managed to get out of bed and brush his teeth and have a shower. Sure, he went right back to bed...but it was a step. The next day, he managed to include have a glass of juice to that. Then the next, he sat in the living room. The next, he managed to have a conversation with Kurt and his dad. The next, he watched TV and actually cared about what was happening. And the next...and the next...and the next...
Until one day, he went outside. Until one day, he could go to school and not feel like hiding in a bathroom, crying. Until he actually started to feel more...human.
And then, one day...he went to the movies.
Maybe that was why he loved this movie as much as he did...it reminded him that he survived. It reminded him of how hard he had worked to make it through those awful days.
And it always reminded him of Kurt.
Of course, there really wasn’t all that much that didn’t remind him of Kurt.
In fact, for someone who was in a rather committed relationship, Dave spent quite a bit of time thinking about a boy he had known and loved eight years ago. Which was something Dave worked rather actively to try and ignore, something he was not always successful at.
However, at this exact moment, watching a movie he remembered seeing as a eighteen year old boy, while holding the hand of the boy he was in love with...well, it wasn’t exactly hard not to focus on Kurt.
Dave sighed as he popped another cheese and salami laden cracker into his mouth.
Wasn’t today supposed to be about him relaxing? He wasn’t supposed to stress out. He’d been super stressed at work for the last week - trying to get used to a new job. New responsibilities... National responsibilities.
And today was about leaving all that stress behind.
And yet...
Between the weird paranoia about Chris and what he was up to and having Kurt constantly on the brain...Dave would have been better off going into the office and working today.
With a soft grumble, Dave pushed himself off the couch, grabbed his coffee cup and wandered into the kitchen for a refill. After pouring a cup, he grabbed the Bailey’s out of the liquor cupboard and poured a healthy dose into his cup. He bloody well deserved it.
He marched back into the living room and flopped down on the couch.
He glanced at his laptop.
Hm.
As he took a rather large swing of his boozy coffee and pulled the computer closer. He hadn’t actually gotten around to doing that search for Kurt. But maybe, rather than constantly obsessing over Kurt, he could actually do something about all this Kurt related thinking...and then clearing his mind of the boy, once and for all.
He opened up Google. And stared at the page.
What was he doing?
What the hell was he going to say when - or if - he found Kurt.
Hi Kurt, remember me…you broke my heart and then I told you I wished we’d never met? How’s it going…wanna grab a beer if you’re ever in DC?
Yeah...that would go down well.
Maybe Kurt wouldn’t even want to hear from him. Maybe Kurt would just delete Dave’s email...or laugh at Dave’s feeble attempt at getting back in touch.
Dave’s fingers hovered over the key board. He wasn’t sure if he could handle another rejection from Kurt...but at the same time, he really wanted to know about Kurt’s life.
Oh fuck it...Googling him didn’t mean he’d have to email him.
Dave slowly typed Kurt’s name...and just as he clicked search, his phone rang.
In one fluid movement, he closed the laptop, picked up his phone and swiped to answer. The search could wait for later.
“Hello Jess.”
“Don’t you have anything better to do on a Saturday afternoon than bother me?”
“Don’t you have anything better to do than call me back?”
“Ugh! Touché...or whatever...so what’s up?”
“I don’t know where Chris is.”
“Has he been gone for more than twenty-four hours”
“What...no...”
“Does he have a history of getting into the vans of strangers’?”
“Jess...don’t.”
“Don’t what? Don’t point out that something is going on in that brain of yours that is making you think something is going on that isn’t going on.”
“I never said I thought anything was going on.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“No?”
“No. I know you too well. And you think something is going on.”
“Oh.”
“Oh is right...Look, where did Chris say he was going?”
“That’s the point...he didn’t.”
“David...that doesn’t mean anything.”
“He told me he was just going out.”
“Do you never go out for the afternoon and just tell him you’ll be back later?”
“I guess so...I don’t know.”
“Dave. This might be a crazy and foreign concept to you, but you two don’t have to know exactly what each other is doing every single moment of the day.”
“You know I get paranoid.”
“Yeah. I do. And I know that there’s no way to convince you otherwise, but I can promise you that Chris is an amazing guy...he’s not going to start running around with other guys or whatever. He already has the perfect guy.”
“Thanks. I just get weird about this stuff...you know me, Mr. Insecure.”
“That is one thing I love about you, you’re always going to be that shy, insecure kid I met in first year.”
“Yeah - that’s me... So you really think its nothing...that I’m just letting my imagination get away from me?”
“Yes. I think that’s exactly what is going on.”
“And I should try not to get too wrapped up in my own thoughts.”
“That is amazing advice...whoever told you that?”
“Shut up. I’ll talk to Dr. Andrews this week about it.”
“I still can’t believe you’ve been seeing the same shrink since first year.”
“Jess...you know I firmly believe in mental health...and she’s been good to me.”
“Yeah...and I still remember the party we had when you went off anti-depressants.”
“That was a good party. I remember you flushing all my pills down the toilet...and then discovering you actually flushed all your birth control.”
“Three hundred dollars David...three hundred dollars.”
“I remember trying to warn you...”
“Your warning was incoherent and distracted since you were trying to get Stuart Alder into bed.”
“And I succeeded. So...what did you get up to today?”
“Met with the lawyers.” Jess’ voice attempted to sound nonchalant, but failed.
“Oh fuck...why didn’t you tell me! I would have gone with you.”
“It’s fine, Dave. I wanted to do it alone.”
“I promised I would go with you!”
“Yeah. I know...I just needed to do it by myself.”
“Is this guy ok?”
“Dave...he works at your dad’s firm...your dad suggested him. Yeah, he’s good.”
“Well, I don’t know...he might turn out to be a total asshole.”
“He’s not. He said he thinks he can get me some good financial support, at the very least.”
“You should be getting so much more...”
“Sometimes it seems as if you’re even angrier than I am over everything.”
“Yeah...well...I am.”
“Thank you. I just can’t get really upset about this anymore...this marriage has been over for at least two years. I just want to get the paperwork done, you know. Get it over and done with.”
“You sure you’re ok?”
“Yeah! I’m ok.”
Dave had known Jessica Carlson for a very long time...known her in first year when he barely had the bravado to say hi to her on the first day of their Psych 100 class. Known her since they smoked joints in her dorm room and then walked in a daze around campus until they found a 24 hour pizza place. Known her since the day she met her future husband (now soon to be ex-husband) and announced he was a pathetic selfish dick.
And he knew her tones...knew her moods. And right now, he knew she was certainly not ok.
“Jess...”
“Yeah.” There was the smallest crack in her voice.
“Come over...we’ll order Chinese and hang out.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah...but be warned, I might not put pants on.”
“Honey, I’ve walked in on you totally naked...seeing you in your underwear is like old news.”
“Maybe I’ll put on my sexy underwear.”
She laughed. “Well then...I’ll be sure to feel extra special.”
“You should. And take a cab over here, it’s pretty gross out.”
“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ve been taxi-ing it up all day.”
“Cool. Just use your key when you get here.”
“Will do...and Dave...”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
“Anytime, sugar.”
“I hate it when you call me that...it makes me sound like some weird southern belle or something.”
“That would mean you’d have to be all bashful and shit...and there isn’t a bashful bone in your body...unless you count that violin player you dated in third year.”
“Fuck off...don’t make me laugh cry. Ok, I’m getting a cab now.”
Dave ended the call, smiling. He let his head flop back against the couch.
How had life gotten so fucking complicated? Dave always felt as though his life was pretty simple - he had a great job, a great partner, a great father, and a best friend who would always have his back, no matter what.
And yet, here he was. Alone on a Saturday afternoon...unsure of exactly why. Waiting for his friend to come over so he could comfort her now that her divorce was about to be finalized.
Somehow this did not feature in the picture of that perfect life he’d constructed for himself so many years ago.
Dave unlocked his phone again. Typing out a message to Chris, telling him Jess was coming over. And at the last minute, deleting the ‘when are you coming home’ part of the text. Somehow it just didn’t seem to matter right now.
Dave got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen. He pulled out a bottle of red wine, two glasses, as well as ice cream bowls...which he then put back and just pulled out two spoons. They weren’t going to need the bowls.
He leaned against the doorway of the kitchen, his eyes moving to find the TV again...and once more, he found himself thinking about his eighteen year old self, clutching the hand of another eighteen year old boy.
“Why are you still in my brain, Kurt...” Dave whispered aloud to the empty room.
His eyes fell on his laptop. He had at least fifteen minutes until Jess got here...more than enough time to do a quick search.
He stepped towards the couch, reaching out to grab his computer.
************************
*New York City*
Kurt lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. It wasn’t exactly doing much...certainly not telling him the answers he really wanted right now. Sometimes, he mused, things happen that you have absolutely no control over. Sometimes, you can plan for everything or anything, and still life will turn around and smack you in the face with a god damn fucking surprise.
And right now, Kurt was feeling pretty banged up by those special little surprises.
He closed his eyes, blocking out the light from the bedside lamps, and breathed deeply.
A week ago he’d been ready to ramp up his search for Dave...and then, it happened.
It...the date.
Kurt sighed.
Just as he was about to chastise himself yet again for letting life get the better of him...for veering him off track, the bed dipped on the right side.
He opened his eyes.
Getting into bed next to him, and carefully adjusting the covers, so to not disturb Kurt, was Bryan. His massive naked form glistening in the dim light. He was rather pale, like every other New Yorker who never actually saw sunlight except in the months of May to September. His arms were like massive tree-trunks. Kurt had to admit that his arms were beautiful. His chest was solid and broad with dark brown nipples, although he had informed Kurt, the first time they’d had sex that he was self conscious about his barrel chest. Bryan’s chest was littered with a fine dusting of dark brown hair that continued down over his thick stomach until it tapered out into a dark mess of curls around his crotch. He was not exactly thin waisted...Bryan had a gut, but it was a solid one.
His legs were thick and powerful.
And as much as he tried, even naked, Kurt could not deny how much the man looked like Dave...which was making this whole situation that much more strange and confusing.
He was muscular in all the right places and squishy in all the perfect spots - just like Dave.
He had a strong, hearty laugh that seemed to rumble out of him - just like Dave.
He was gentle and kind - just like Dave.
And he was amazing in bed - unlike Dave, although Kurt was chalking that up to inexperience on eighteen year old Dave’s part.
And Kurt did like Bryan. Liked spending time with him. Liked talking to him. Liked being around him.
But, even so, Kurt couldn’t help but feel guilty over their whole ‘relationship.’ It was as though Kurt was cheating on someone who was not even present in his life...Kurt didn’t know if he liked Bryan for Bryan or if he liked Bryan because of those similarities to Dave.
Kurt was so fucking confused.
“Hey...” Bryan said softly. “I didn’t wake you did I? I was trying to be super quiet.”
“No. No, you didn’t. I was just thinking.”
“Oh? Everything ok?”
“Yeah...all good. Just thinking about work.”
“Oh. Um…if it’s not cool that I stay over, I can go…”
“Bryan…it’s ok. If I didn’t want you here, I’d tell you. Ok?”
“Ok.” Bryan’s face erupted into a massive smile. “Do you want to go to sleep?”
“Yeah. That ok?”
“Of course!”
“I’m just going to go get some water…be right back.”
“I’ll be here. Ready to cuddle if you want…”
“Ok. Sounds good.” Kurt smiled at him…fuck, the man in infectious.
Kurt slipped out of bed and started for the living room. He glanced back and watched as Bryan shimmied further under the covers. He saw Kurt looking and grinned at him.
Fuck, he looked so adorable.
Kurt went into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. He leaned against the counter, closed his eyes and tried to deal with the many many conflicting emotions swimming around in his head.
He’d figure this all out…he always had, and he would again. Refilling his glass, he switched off the lights and started for the bedroom again.
As he was walking past his iPhone, he heard an email come in. Vicki lifted her head from where she was sleeping on her ottoman, clearly annoyed at the intrusion to her beauty rest.
Kurt ignored the cat’s glare and picked up his phone.
He pressed the Mail icon.
“Oh…god.”
Author: Pulpobsessed
Pairing: Dave Karofsky/Kurt Hummel, Kurt Hummel/OMC, Dave Karofsky/OMC
Characters: Kurt, Dave, OCs
Rating: R
Summary: 8 years after the events of On My Way. Kurt begins a journey that will force him to face his past and Dave is tested in a way he never expected.
Genre: FutureFic
Disclaimer: I only own those characters I made up…Anything associated with Glee belongs to some other guys.
Previious Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3
A/N: Back to "present time" - there is a lot of me in this chapter, I was surprised just how much my life became events in Dave and Kurt's lives. This one took me a little while to get out…I wasnt sure how I was going to direct it, but I'm pleased with it now. FYI: I will be on vacation for a week, so won't be doing any writing until after the 25th…so the next chapter will be a little while coming. But I'll make it a good one…until then, enjoy!
Chapter 4.
He taps at my window,
Willing that I'll let him in.
I don't think I will though
My heart's taken I won't tell him again.
Laura Marling, “Tap At My Window.”
*2020*
*New York City*
Kurt was flabbergasted. Utterly and completely flabbergasted.
He really didn’t know what on earth had happened...how could his skills fail him like this!?
Completely unreal.
Kurt was a master at online searching...he could find anyone or anything in a matter of minutes!
He could could find the most obscure website. The rarest of items for sale.
He was king of Google. Emperor of Wikipedia. God of Facebook.
And yet...all of his online skills seemed to have evaporated overnight!
For the past two weeks, Kurt had using any means imaginable to find some information on Dave Karofsky, and so far has come up with nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
He’d started with a simple Google search...which should have been the end of it, but instead had just made him doubt his normally phenomenal Google skills. After entering Dave’s name into Google’s search box, he got a bunch of hits, but nothing relevant.
The first hit had been about Dave’s successes as junior high school football linebacker.
Then, a blog Dave had run in his first year of college at Georgetown.
Even a few articles Dave had written on various GLBTQ issues on campus.
But for some reason, that was where the trail went cold.
It was as though Dave Karofsky had just disappeared off the face of the planet around 2015.
And so, Kurt revised the search about a dozen times - from Dave Karofsky to Dave Karofsky Georgetown to Dave Karofsky sports agent...medicine...law school...Washington, DC...
He was pretty sure that he had used every single combination possible. But still, nothing. Not a twitter account. Not a Facebook page. Not an email address. Not a work webpage. Nothing.
Which really made no sense at all. How the hell does one exist in the 21st century without some kind of online presence.
There wasn’t even an online dating profile!
The first few days, Kurt had been annoyed at his lack of success. After a week, Kurt started to get annoyed at Dave for not even being decent enough to even have a Facebook page!
But after two weeks, Kurt started to get freaked out.
What if Dave was dead?
No...that was highly unlikely. Kurt would certainly have head about that!
They technically still had some friends in common...right?
What if Dave had changed his name?
Or, and this was the scariest of all the options, maybe, the reason it was so hard to find Dave was simply because, Dave wanted it that way. What if he’d intentionally made it so Kurt could never find or talk to him again?
That possibility was terrifying.
Kurt let his head fall into his hands as he sat hunched over on his couch, his laptop open on his coffee table, and groaned. What on earth had pushed him to start looking for Dave Karofsky...all it was doing was dredging up a lot of dirty laundry.
Not to mention causing more than one sleepless night.
Kurt lifted his head and stared at his computer screen, again. Nothing had changed since the last time he’d looked at it. At present, it showed his latest search results - for bear cubs, Lima, Ohio, and Dave.
He’d gotten about twenty thousand porn hits...even one guy from Lima who was advertising himself as the ultimate in kinky sex, with a webcam to prove it. Kurt had almost clicked on that link, but at the last second decided that, no, in fact, Dave would never do that sort of thing.
Plus, Dave was long out of Lima.
He flopped back against his sofa, and glanced over at his cat - Vicki Lester, named after Judy Garland in A Star is Born - who was sitting on her favorite spot: a large pile of blankets on top of a oversized leather ottoman. Vicki pretty much owned the apartment. It was a well known fact that while Kurt inhabited 113C - 57 10th Street, Vicki pretty much ruled the place with a benevolent ambivalence.
For such a small creature, she took up a lot of space.
Kurt loved his apartment. There was nothing in his life that he was more proud of. It was a 700 square foot, one-bedroom, apartment on the top floor of a refurbished depression-era walk-up on the north-side of Prospect Park in Park Slope. His living room window overlooked the park, giving him a direct view of the fields, where shirtless men played touch football or rugby in the summer. As well as giving him a decent view of the occasional outdoor concert. Two blocks southwest is the Pavilion Cinema, which he frequents at least a couple times a week. And a little further southwest is his favorite ice cream spot. Plus, he was within walking distance of the Brooklyn Public Library, a bunch of cafes, and most importantly The Brownstone Bagel Company...which had kept him alive during his first few weeks living here. And of course, the park itself - which had become much more than just an area for him. It had become a friend - a place he could go to when he’s feeling sad, or lonely, or restless. Sunday afternoons in the summer, sitting and reading in the park, had become his favorite activity of the entire year.
The apartment itself is warmly decorated. Kurt’s favorite color, royal blue, is reflected throughout. His couch is a deep royal blue, accented with a number of white pillows and throw rugs. On either side of the couch are two solid light brown oak side tables, each adorned with small table lamps. Kurt’s coffee table is the same color as the side tables, and directly underneath the coffee table is a checkered beige and dark blue space rug. Tucked under the windows at the far side of the room is a large overstuffed blue chair, with the leather ottoman placed directly in front of it.
Throughout the living room are bookcases...against almost every wall...and all of them are full, almost to the point of overflowing. When he was younger, such disregard for organization or tidiness would have driven him insane, but while at university, he became obsessed with books and owning copies of his favorite musical scores. He also owned dozens of biographies - especially those of his favorite choreographers, composers, artists, writers, designers. Plus, novels, collections of poetry, stuff on the history of theatre, and almost any book he could find on New York. Sure, he owned an iPad and often did a lot of reading on that, but he loved the feel of a book, the smell of a book, the sensation of turning pages slowly and savoring each word.
And so, Kurt Hummel had become a bibliophile. Hell, he even had managed to spread his book addiction into the kitchen with a growing collection of cookbooks.
His incredibly small kitchen is visible from the living room just behind a small breakfast bar, with two stools, that separates the room. Kurt’s kitchen is meticulously organized, and always spotless...mainly, because it was so small. He could never really afford to let any dirty plates or dishes sit around...as they took up too much space.
The rest of the apartment was really a complete testament to relaxation and comfort. Kurt had painted his walls a soft muted off-white - which let his deep blue furniture shine, and had a strangely calming effect on him.
He’d decorated his walls with dozens of theatre posters - most of them collected from friends in the industry. But, of course, his most prized possessions were his framed PlayBills. He’s started collecting them when he first arrived in New York when he went to see Once with Rachel and a couple other NYADA freshmen. Ever since then, if he went to the theatre, and got a PlayBill, it got framed and put up with the rest of the collection. He had well over fifty by now…Wicked, West Side Story, Sweeney Todd, The Book of Mormon, Jesus Christ Superstar, even A Streetcar Named Desire starring Maggie Gyllenhaal...and the best part was that all of them were signed.
Those took up a significant amount of space on the wall next to the window, above his chair. He loved them there because he could see them when he sat on his couch. And when he sat in his favorite chair, it felt like he was being watched by the eyes of Broadway’s greatest creations.
Just off from the living room was a small hallway, Kurt’s tiny bathroom - which miraculously held a claw footed bathtub - as well as his equally small bedroom. However, despite it’s small size, Kurt had created a small haven in his bedroom. A simple twin bed that was piled high with blankets and pillows. A exorbitantly expensive pillow top cover for his mattress and, of course, a memory foam mattress and pillows.
The bedroom was done up in a deep comforting green - making the room seem even smaller, and yet somehow extremely cozy. The blankets on the bed are a light brown. Next to the bed was a dark brown side table - holding a lamp, iPod alarm clock dock, a few books, a photo of Kurt with some of his friends. On the other side of the bed was a small dresser - its top was covered with photographs of Kurt’s friends and family, as well as a small collection of Broadway Magazine in a fancy magazine holder. And against the wall, next to the closet door, was a small bookcase - filled to the brim with books.
On the walls, across from the bed, Kurt had hung a print he’d bought at MoMA just after moving into the apartment. And directly above the bed hung the poster for the first production that Kurt had ever directed for the Brooklyn Academy of Music - a massive production of Waiting for Godot.
Yeah...Kurt had found his real home wasn’t on stage, but behind it.
When he had come to New York City, Kurt had been absolutely sure that he was going to end up on the Broadway stage. He was one hundred-percent positive that he would walk out of NYADA and immediately land himself the role Fiyero in Wicked.
That enduring dream of his name in lights on a marquee outside The Gershwin haunted him at every step. It was all he wanted. All he dreamed of as a teenager. To be honest, despite everything that happened in his junior and senior years, that dream was all he could really think about...it was the one thing he held onto and deemed most precious in his life.
And then...he arrived in New York. And suddenly, he found himself surrounded by hundreds of like minded gay men...all with the same dream: to be the next John Cameron Mitchell or Anthony Rapp.
It was in his third semester at NYADA, just after he’d been cast as a member of the chorus in a school production of Kiss of the Spiderwoman, that he started to think about alternatives to acting. Then came the very first time he actually picked producing over acting. It was during a production of Pippin - he was giving the option of either doing the chorus thing again or assistant stage managing.
He chose the latter.
And immediately fell in love.
A year and a half later, Kurt graduated with a BFA in Performing Arts in one hand, while in the other he held an acceptance letter to Columbia’s graduate program in theatre management and producing.
And despite Rachel’s hour long speech on how disappointing it was that he had decided to give up on the only dream that was actually worth having, Kurt felt right at home running things behind the scenes. It was freeing in some ways - when he was on stage he always felt hemmed in by what the producer or artistic director wanted, but when he stepped behind the scenes, he could take control. And it was...empowering.
And so, he ignored Rachel’s pleas to stay the course. And that September, he walked into Columbia University with his head held high and ready to change the face of American theatre.
And he absolutely love the program! It was intense, no doubt about it, but then again, Kurt could be rather intense. The best part of the whole experience had been the internships - the first was with 321 Management - the producers of Wicked - where he got all kinds of experience learning how to stage manage, assistant state manage, and starting the process of learning how to produce and manage a theatre company. The second and third internship had been with the Lincoln Center - where he got to work with both the ballet and opera. But the fourth had been his favorite and perhaps had been the most exciting...with BAM. In the end it had been the one to totally change his life.
A month before he was slated to turn in his final thesis, BAM offered him a job.
And here he was, almost a year and a half later, working as part of the artistic direction team for BAM’s new musical theatre program. He had aspirations - which were not entirely unwarranted, according to the current artistic director, to eventually become BAM’s artist director.
Kurt smiled as his eyes flickered over to the pile of work he’d intended to to get through over the weekend. BAM was preparing to start casting on a totally new musical - written by a team of BAM students in the playwriting seminars from the summer before. Kurt was not only on the creative team behind the production, but he was also assistant producing, it and would probably help stage-managing it.
Which meant that he had a lot of work to do.
But instead of making himself a fresh cup of tea and sitting down to go through the latest draft of the script for a production meeting scheduled for Monday morning, he was sitting here typing in random searches into Google in the attempt to find Dave Karofsky.
He looked over at Vicki again. “Why am I making myself miserable over a man I haven’t seen or heard from in eight years!”
The cat barely lifted her head. Glared at him momentarily. And then closed her eyes again.
Kurt sighed. “Little help you are.”
He pushed himself off the sofa and walked into the kitchen. He turned on the tap and filled the kettle. Then started the sometimes hourly argument with himself about exactly what kind of tea he wanted.
He had just started to debate whether he wanted peppermint or his latest favorite Glitter & Gold from David’s Tea. David’s Tea...Dave...Dave Karofsky...
Fuck!
Sighing, Kurt grabbed the Glitter&Gold tin. He slammed it down onto the counter and popped the lid off. As he was spooning some into his tea strainer, his phone alerted him to a text message.
Kurt put down his tea and walked back into the living room.
Bryan.
Again.
Kurt had managed to avoid the man for the first week, but after seven days, his excuses of working a lot just wasn’t cutting it anymore. Kurt had never really been good at dishing out rejection - he was the guy who went on dates long after the relationship was dead and rotting, just because he didn’t want to hand a guy his walking papers.
That hesitancy probably came from the whole thing with Dave...
Which meant, in this case, that Kurt really didn’t know how to tell Bryan that he just wasn’t interested...or at least he wasn’t sure if he was interested or not.
Kurt’s plan to find Dave, well it had implanted the idea that maybe Dave would be single... maybe Dave would be open to some kind of thing with him again. But at the same time, Kurt really had to be realistic about all this. What were the chances that Dave would be single? And, for that matter, what would the chances be that Dave would even want to have something with Kurt again?
Wishful thinking...
And then there was this whole inability to even find information about Dave...much less find a way to get in touch with the man.
Kurt picked up his phone and walked back into the kitchen. As he poured the water into his tea cup, he opened the text message.
Hey! Ok, gonna try this one last time…I’m free for dinner or drinks, or whatever, tonight. Feel like hanging out?
Kurt opened the fridge and pulled out the milk carton. He poured a small amount into the tea. As he watched the milk slowly cloud the amber liquid, he couldn’t help but wonder what the harm would be in meeting Bryan for a drink.
Before he could really double guess himself, Kurt pressed the call button at the top of the text message screen. He sipped his tea as he listened to Bryan’s phone ringing.
He really hoped this wasn’t going to be a mistake...or some kind of weird psychological thing, seeing as how similar Dave and Bryan looked.
“Kurt!” Bryan sounded not only genuinely surprised to hear from him, but also deliriously happy.
“Hey...look, I just want to say I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.”
“No, don’t apologize, ok. I came on like way too strong...I apologize. But I am really glad you called.”
“Well, I feel like I was being a jerk.”
“You are pretty good at it - avoiding me, not being a jerk...of course you know that it just made me more determined.”
“I had no idea.” Kurt smiled as he thought about the flirty texts and voice mails he’d received over the past couple weeks.
“Yeah. So...can I assume that my text inspired this call, huh?”
“It did. Yes.”
“Does that mean I can take you out for a drink?”
“That depends on where you want to take me.”
“Oh? Crap, does this mean I have to impress you?”
“Yes...actually...it does.”
“Well...what kind of place do you usually go to?”
“Oh, you want me to make it easy for you, huh?”
“Fine...at least tell me where you live.”
“Park Slope. That’s all I’m giving you.” Kurt smiled as he sipped his tea.
“Park Slope. Hmmmm - well how do you feel about Williamsburg?”
“It’s overrated and every guy that lives there is too skinny for his own good.”
“I live in Williamsburg.”
“Fine - you’re the exception to the rule.”
“Would you be interested in coming down here?”
“And what would we be doing?”
“Do you like oysters?”
“Would you believe me if I said I’ve never tried one?”
“No...actually I wouldn’t.”
“Its true! I’m a country boy from Ohio, unless it was dipped in beer-batter and deep fried until unrecognizable, I never ate fish!”
“God, that’s sad.”
“I know...I do love fish.”
“Well then, can I tempt you to try your first oyster?”
“I could be tempted.” Kurt moved away from the kitchen counter to sit back down on his sofa. He brought his computer back to life. He stared at the words in the Google search bar: David Karofsky.
For two weeks, Dave had been all he’d been thinking about. He was so certain that he needed to find Dave...needed to reconnect. And that certainty had all been because of the man he was now talking to on the phone.
What was Dave doing tonight? Would Dave be with friends? With a boyfriend? Would he be going to a bar and picking someone up? Would he think about Kurt?
The answer to that last question would probably be a certified no.
So, why then, was Kurt torturing himself with these insane thoughts about a man he had not seen in eight years.
Kurt suddenly realized that he’d gotten so lost in his thoughts that he’d missed something Bryan had said.
“Sorry...what?”
“I was asking if you’d like meet at eight...but then I got worried you’d hung up on me.”
“I’m sorry...ummm...I just saw a work email come in. I’m sorry, but...” Kurt had to decide. Say yes to the handsome man on the phone and have an enjoyable Saturday night, or run the risk of a lonely Saturday night while vainly searching for his ex-boyfriend...
...”I wold love to meet up for a drink and some oysters.”
“Really?!”
“Yes, you sound totally shocked.”
“I am...I was ready to totally give up on you.”
“I’m really sorry about leading you on and ignoring you for the last two weeks...I’ve had a lot of things going on.”
“Kurt, it’s ok...I have no idea why I became so persistent, but for some reason I just couldn’t get you out of my head. I was worried I was becoming that really creepy guy that you tell your friends about, and eventually take a restraining order out on.”
“I did think about the restraining order a couple times...”
“Is that why the police have been following me?”
“No...that must have been the other guys you’ve harassed.”
“Harassed...buried in my backyard...same thing, right?”
“Excuse me while I go find my stun gun for tonight.”
“I’ve built up an immunity to electricity.”
“Well there goes my last line of defense.”
“Right...ok, so the place I want to take you is Akarbia. I can meet you at the Subway station for 14th and Canarsie - you have to take the L.”
“Sure. At eight?”
“Yeah...is that ok for you?”
“I think it’ll be great.”
“Cool...and thanks for...”
“How about you thank me after the date, otherwise you might slip into the desperate realm.”
“Right...not cool at all. So I’ll see you at eight?”
“Sounds great.” Kurt smiled again.
As Kurt hung up, he couldn’t help but wonder exactly what was going to come out of the evening. Was he going out with Bryan simply because he reminded Kurt so much of Dave. Was there any romantic interest there on Kurt’s part...or was this simply an excuse to go on a date?
Kurt glanced over at his sleeping cat. She was clearly not going to be able to offer any words of wisdom on the matter. So, sighing once again, Kurt pulled his laptop onto his lap and started the search again.
Just because he was going on a date didn’t mean he couldn’t keep going on the search.
As he stared at his computer screen...inspiration hit him.
“Of course!”
Kurt moved his cursor to his Mail client and he opened up a new message.
Yes...he may finally have figured out the perfect way to find Dave.
And suddenly...all thoughts of his impending date vanished.
*********************
*Washington, DC.*
It had been raining for three days straight. Three days! And so far, there was no actual sign that it was going to let up anytime soon.
The sky over Washington DC was an angry and furious slate grey that spat ice cold pellets of rain down on to the nation’s capital. The city, which until then had been enjoying an unseasonably warm winter, was in a state of shock. Scarves had been yanked from closets and wrapped around necks. Gloves had been rescued from the bottom of drawers or baskets under the bed had been pulled on to try and block out the freezing wind and prevent frost bite. Even seasoned residents had run to the nearest Macy’s or Marshall’s to find some kind of parka that would help them stay warm.
Yes, winter had blown into town and from the looks of it, it wasn’t going away anytime soon.
At least that’s what the national weather channel was telling Dave as he sat on his couch with the rain and wind attacking his windows.
Dave shivered involuntarily, as though the combination of the weather report and the sound of the rain had some how caused the temperature of the room to plummet. He pulled the large brown fleece blanket around himself and considered making himself another cup of coffee - which would be his third of the day. Dave picked up the remote for the TV and switched to AMC - they were supposed to be showing The Hunger Games at three, and even though Dave owned the entire trilogy on Blu-Ray 3D, he still got excited whenever it was on TV.
It was ten to three.
Enough time to make a coffee and grab a snack.
He wandered into his surprisingly spacious kitchen and started to prepare another pot of coffee.
While it was brewing, he started to rummage through the fridge. His eyes stopped on the left-over cheese cake from dinner last night...but if he ate that, he’d be in major trouble. Chris was saving it for later tonight...
Instead, Dave started pulling out cheese, salami, pickles, and olives. Then he grabbed a box of RainCoast crisps from the cupboard.
Just as the opening music of the movie started to play, Dave poured himself a cup of coffee, grabbed his plate and flopped back down onto the couch.
God, he loved rainy Saturdays.
Especially when Chris was out...it meant that he could sit around in his underwear, watch movies and eat whatever he wanted all day long.
Which was exactly what he was doing - he was wearing a pair of hideous boxer shorts that showed off his muscular legs and the small arrangement of stars tattooed on his calves. He was also wearing an old t-shirt and his favorite bright red hoodie.
And he’d been eating steadily all day long.
Already in his mind he was planning on making a homemade pizza for dinner...and if Chris wasn’t home in time for dinner, well too bad. Dave could easily polish one off on his own.
And there was plenty of that fucking amazing spicy sausage still in the fridge...plus they had that huge thing of mozzarella that they bought at the Italian grocery store last week.
Dave leaned back against the couch and popped another cracker, piled with cheese, sausage, cheese and a pickle on top, into his mouth. Yeah..this was the life.
Of course, he would rather spend the day with Chris, but for some reason his boyfriend had decided this would be a perfect day to go hangout with his friends and play racquetball or something...
Actually Dave had no idea where Chris was or what he was doing.
Dave frowned at the TV as he chewed thoughtfully...this was rare. Normally they always told each other where they were going and what they would be doing...so why, exactly, had Chris not said anything.
Or had he?
Did Dave just not listen to him?
No...that’s not right at all. Dave remembered asking Chris where he was going...the response had been “out”.
But where exactly was “out”?
It wasn’t that Dave didn’t trust Chris. He trusted him unconditionally. There was no doubt about that. But it was strange that Chris would just go out and not tell him where.
He stared at the TV screen. No longer focused on what was happening, which sucked cause he loved this movie.
Finally, sighing, he picked up his phone and send Chris a text message.
Hey babe. I’m all lonely at home. Are you coming home soon?
Yeah...that did not sound too needy right?
Like fuck it didn’t - it was completely needy.
Whatever. Dave pressed send.
He then stared at his phone for at least a good five minutes, willing it to make a noise.
Nothing.
He opened up a different text message window.
Hey. You free? Call me.
And pressed send.
Putting his phone down, he turned his attention back to the movie.
Deep in the recesses of his brain, he knew that Chris would never cheat on him or anything like that...but he still worried.
Dave closed his eyes for a second. Forcing himself to focus back on the movie. Forcing himself to push those niggling thoughts to the back of his mind. He opened his eyes and sat back against the couch, clutching his coffee cup in both hands.
As he got slowly sucked into the movie - thoughts of Chris still tickling the back of his brain - he couldn’t help but think about the first time he saw this movie.
Back in 2012. With Kurt.
It had been just before everything started to go weird between him and Kurt...which meant it was just before the moment when Dave found himself with a boyfriend.
But beyond all that weirdness, The Hunger Games...well, they had saved Dave’s life in some strange way.
Dave remembered loving the books when he first read them. Perhaps, love was too weak a word...he’d been obsessed with them. There was something in them that just called out to him. Something that drew him in and made him want to know more. Made him want to be a part of that world...as violent and horrendous as it was.
The books had been a life raft he could hold on to. But, then again, Dave had always been like that, using other worlds to escape from what was going on around him. Normally, he turned to comic books...but The Hunger Games, well they just sparked his unique imagination.
After his suicide attempt, and the parade of medication that followed it, he just couldn’t summon up the desire to find or embrace that imaginative part of his brain...much less be interested in something to help him find it again.
He remembered those first four weeks. He refused to engage in anything. He just couldn’t do it - there was no energy or interest there. He would lie on the couch and stare off into space. Unseeing.
His dad had tried everything - comic books, movies, video games. Kurt had appeared almost daily, ready to try and engage Dave in anything that might help break the stupor Dave found himself in.
He could remember Kurt sitting on the couch, with Dave’s head in Kurt’s lap, reading aloud the latest issue of Batman aloud. Dave couldn’t remember a single word Kurt read, he could remember not feeling a think about it. Normally the opportunity to be that close to Kurt would have sent him over the edge, would have made his year - no scratch that, his millennium. But he just couldn’t care. He couldn’t feel anything. Couldn’t feel happy. Couldn’t feel excited. He couldn’t even feel as though the moment was real.
He remembered Kurt paused in his reading. He remembered Kurt looking down at him.
“You’re crying.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be sorry.”
“Ok. I’ll…try to be better.”
“Oh Dave…don’t…you’re just perfect.”
“No I’m not. I’m broken.”
“We’ll get you through this, I promise. We’re going to find a way to fix you.”
“I’m scared, Kurt…I don’t feel anything. I don’t feel sad. I don’t feel happy. I don’t feel anything. I just feel…nothing.”
He remembered Kurt went into the kitchen, not long after that conversation, crying. He remembered Kurt and Dave’s dad having a rather long - tearful - talk. And then, ten minutes later, Dave was being driven to his doctor’s office, where he was taken off whatever medication he’d been on.
It had been in the doctor’s waiting room that a plan began to form.
He’d been sitting in one of those stiff, generic chairs, staring down at his feet. He’d felt Kurt’s hand slip into his.
“Ok, tell me one thing you want to do when you feel better.”
“Dunno.”
“Yes you do. Come on, David. Please try…”
“It’s hard…my brain is all fuzzy.”
“I know…I know. But maybe if you have something to focus on…”
“The Hunger Games.” Dave practically spat out.
“…huh? Ok, what about them?”
“I really like the books. I wanted to go see the movie. I…I want to go see the movie.”
“OK! Then we’ll go see it. Together. But you need to get better first, ok?”
“Yeah. I don’t want to disappoi…”
“Finish that sentence and you’ll regret it.”
Dave had no idea that focusing on something like a movie could actually make a difference in his life. But it did...it gave him something to focus on. Something to think about. As the numbness started to wear off, and just before the nausea started, Dave and Kurt started to make plans.
Dave remembered that he still had trouble getting out of bed or even doing the most normal of tasks every day. But still, that promise, as small as it was - to go see a movie together - pushed him.
Pushed him harder than anything ever could.
It was so small. It was so simple. But at the same time it was so complex. Getting to hang out in public with Kurt. Going back into the real world. Stepping through his front door and announcing to the world that he hadn’t died. That he’d survived. And he would keep on surviving.
And so, everyday got a little better...everyday he got a little closer.
One day he managed to get out of bed and brush his teeth and have a shower. Sure, he went right back to bed...but it was a step. The next day, he managed to include have a glass of juice to that. Then the next, he sat in the living room. The next, he managed to have a conversation with Kurt and his dad. The next, he watched TV and actually cared about what was happening. And the next...and the next...and the next...
Until one day, he went outside. Until one day, he could go to school and not feel like hiding in a bathroom, crying. Until he actually started to feel more...human.
And then, one day...he went to the movies.
Maybe that was why he loved this movie as much as he did...it reminded him that he survived. It reminded him of how hard he had worked to make it through those awful days.
And it always reminded him of Kurt.
Of course, there really wasn’t all that much that didn’t remind him of Kurt.
In fact, for someone who was in a rather committed relationship, Dave spent quite a bit of time thinking about a boy he had known and loved eight years ago. Which was something Dave worked rather actively to try and ignore, something he was not always successful at.
However, at this exact moment, watching a movie he remembered seeing as a eighteen year old boy, while holding the hand of the boy he was in love with...well, it wasn’t exactly hard not to focus on Kurt.
Dave sighed as he popped another cheese and salami laden cracker into his mouth.
Wasn’t today supposed to be about him relaxing? He wasn’t supposed to stress out. He’d been super stressed at work for the last week - trying to get used to a new job. New responsibilities... National responsibilities.
And today was about leaving all that stress behind.
And yet...
Between the weird paranoia about Chris and what he was up to and having Kurt constantly on the brain...Dave would have been better off going into the office and working today.
With a soft grumble, Dave pushed himself off the couch, grabbed his coffee cup and wandered into the kitchen for a refill. After pouring a cup, he grabbed the Bailey’s out of the liquor cupboard and poured a healthy dose into his cup. He bloody well deserved it.
He marched back into the living room and flopped down on the couch.
He glanced at his laptop.
Hm.
As he took a rather large swing of his boozy coffee and pulled the computer closer. He hadn’t actually gotten around to doing that search for Kurt. But maybe, rather than constantly obsessing over Kurt, he could actually do something about all this Kurt related thinking...and then clearing his mind of the boy, once and for all.
He opened up Google. And stared at the page.
What was he doing?
What the hell was he going to say when - or if - he found Kurt.
Hi Kurt, remember me…you broke my heart and then I told you I wished we’d never met? How’s it going…wanna grab a beer if you’re ever in DC?
Yeah...that would go down well.
Maybe Kurt wouldn’t even want to hear from him. Maybe Kurt would just delete Dave’s email...or laugh at Dave’s feeble attempt at getting back in touch.
Dave’s fingers hovered over the key board. He wasn’t sure if he could handle another rejection from Kurt...but at the same time, he really wanted to know about Kurt’s life.
Oh fuck it...Googling him didn’t mean he’d have to email him.
Dave slowly typed Kurt’s name...and just as he clicked search, his phone rang.
In one fluid movement, he closed the laptop, picked up his phone and swiped to answer. The search could wait for later.
“Hello Jess.”
“Don’t you have anything better to do on a Saturday afternoon than bother me?”
“Don’t you have anything better to do than call me back?”
“Ugh! Touché...or whatever...so what’s up?”
“I don’t know where Chris is.”
“Has he been gone for more than twenty-four hours”
“What...no...”
“Does he have a history of getting into the vans of strangers’?”
“Jess...don’t.”
“Don’t what? Don’t point out that something is going on in that brain of yours that is making you think something is going on that isn’t going on.”
“I never said I thought anything was going on.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“No?”
“No. I know you too well. And you think something is going on.”
“Oh.”
“Oh is right...Look, where did Chris say he was going?”
“That’s the point...he didn’t.”
“David...that doesn’t mean anything.”
“He told me he was just going out.”
“Do you never go out for the afternoon and just tell him you’ll be back later?”
“I guess so...I don’t know.”
“Dave. This might be a crazy and foreign concept to you, but you two don’t have to know exactly what each other is doing every single moment of the day.”
“You know I get paranoid.”
“Yeah. I do. And I know that there’s no way to convince you otherwise, but I can promise you that Chris is an amazing guy...he’s not going to start running around with other guys or whatever. He already has the perfect guy.”
“Thanks. I just get weird about this stuff...you know me, Mr. Insecure.”
“That is one thing I love about you, you’re always going to be that shy, insecure kid I met in first year.”
“Yeah - that’s me... So you really think its nothing...that I’m just letting my imagination get away from me?”
“Yes. I think that’s exactly what is going on.”
“And I should try not to get too wrapped up in my own thoughts.”
“That is amazing advice...whoever told you that?”
“Shut up. I’ll talk to Dr. Andrews this week about it.”
“I still can’t believe you’ve been seeing the same shrink since first year.”
“Jess...you know I firmly believe in mental health...and she’s been good to me.”
“Yeah...and I still remember the party we had when you went off anti-depressants.”
“That was a good party. I remember you flushing all my pills down the toilet...and then discovering you actually flushed all your birth control.”
“Three hundred dollars David...three hundred dollars.”
“I remember trying to warn you...”
“Your warning was incoherent and distracted since you were trying to get Stuart Alder into bed.”
“And I succeeded. So...what did you get up to today?”
“Met with the lawyers.” Jess’ voice attempted to sound nonchalant, but failed.
“Oh fuck...why didn’t you tell me! I would have gone with you.”
“It’s fine, Dave. I wanted to do it alone.”
“I promised I would go with you!”
“Yeah. I know...I just needed to do it by myself.”
“Is this guy ok?”
“Dave...he works at your dad’s firm...your dad suggested him. Yeah, he’s good.”
“Well, I don’t know...he might turn out to be a total asshole.”
“He’s not. He said he thinks he can get me some good financial support, at the very least.”
“You should be getting so much more...”
“Sometimes it seems as if you’re even angrier than I am over everything.”
“Yeah...well...I am.”
“Thank you. I just can’t get really upset about this anymore...this marriage has been over for at least two years. I just want to get the paperwork done, you know. Get it over and done with.”
“You sure you’re ok?”
“Yeah! I’m ok.”
Dave had known Jessica Carlson for a very long time...known her in first year when he barely had the bravado to say hi to her on the first day of their Psych 100 class. Known her since they smoked joints in her dorm room and then walked in a daze around campus until they found a 24 hour pizza place. Known her since the day she met her future husband (now soon to be ex-husband) and announced he was a pathetic selfish dick.
And he knew her tones...knew her moods. And right now, he knew she was certainly not ok.
“Jess...”
“Yeah.” There was the smallest crack in her voice.
“Come over...we’ll order Chinese and hang out.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah...but be warned, I might not put pants on.”
“Honey, I’ve walked in on you totally naked...seeing you in your underwear is like old news.”
“Maybe I’ll put on my sexy underwear.”
She laughed. “Well then...I’ll be sure to feel extra special.”
“You should. And take a cab over here, it’s pretty gross out.”
“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ve been taxi-ing it up all day.”
“Cool. Just use your key when you get here.”
“Will do...and Dave...”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
“Anytime, sugar.”
“I hate it when you call me that...it makes me sound like some weird southern belle or something.”
“That would mean you’d have to be all bashful and shit...and there isn’t a bashful bone in your body...unless you count that violin player you dated in third year.”
“Fuck off...don’t make me laugh cry. Ok, I’m getting a cab now.”
Dave ended the call, smiling. He let his head flop back against the couch.
How had life gotten so fucking complicated? Dave always felt as though his life was pretty simple - he had a great job, a great partner, a great father, and a best friend who would always have his back, no matter what.
And yet, here he was. Alone on a Saturday afternoon...unsure of exactly why. Waiting for his friend to come over so he could comfort her now that her divorce was about to be finalized.
Somehow this did not feature in the picture of that perfect life he’d constructed for himself so many years ago.
Dave unlocked his phone again. Typing out a message to Chris, telling him Jess was coming over. And at the last minute, deleting the ‘when are you coming home’ part of the text. Somehow it just didn’t seem to matter right now.
Dave got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen. He pulled out a bottle of red wine, two glasses, as well as ice cream bowls...which he then put back and just pulled out two spoons. They weren’t going to need the bowls.
He leaned against the doorway of the kitchen, his eyes moving to find the TV again...and once more, he found himself thinking about his eighteen year old self, clutching the hand of another eighteen year old boy.
“Why are you still in my brain, Kurt...” Dave whispered aloud to the empty room.
His eyes fell on his laptop. He had at least fifteen minutes until Jess got here...more than enough time to do a quick search.
He stepped towards the couch, reaching out to grab his computer.
************************
*New York City*
Kurt lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. It wasn’t exactly doing much...certainly not telling him the answers he really wanted right now. Sometimes, he mused, things happen that you have absolutely no control over. Sometimes, you can plan for everything or anything, and still life will turn around and smack you in the face with a god damn fucking surprise.
And right now, Kurt was feeling pretty banged up by those special little surprises.
He closed his eyes, blocking out the light from the bedside lamps, and breathed deeply.
A week ago he’d been ready to ramp up his search for Dave...and then, it happened.
It...the date.
Kurt sighed.
Just as he was about to chastise himself yet again for letting life get the better of him...for veering him off track, the bed dipped on the right side.
He opened his eyes.
Getting into bed next to him, and carefully adjusting the covers, so to not disturb Kurt, was Bryan. His massive naked form glistening in the dim light. He was rather pale, like every other New Yorker who never actually saw sunlight except in the months of May to September. His arms were like massive tree-trunks. Kurt had to admit that his arms were beautiful. His chest was solid and broad with dark brown nipples, although he had informed Kurt, the first time they’d had sex that he was self conscious about his barrel chest. Bryan’s chest was littered with a fine dusting of dark brown hair that continued down over his thick stomach until it tapered out into a dark mess of curls around his crotch. He was not exactly thin waisted...Bryan had a gut, but it was a solid one.
His legs were thick and powerful.
And as much as he tried, even naked, Kurt could not deny how much the man looked like Dave...which was making this whole situation that much more strange and confusing.
He was muscular in all the right places and squishy in all the perfect spots - just like Dave.
He had a strong, hearty laugh that seemed to rumble out of him - just like Dave.
He was gentle and kind - just like Dave.
And he was amazing in bed - unlike Dave, although Kurt was chalking that up to inexperience on eighteen year old Dave’s part.
And Kurt did like Bryan. Liked spending time with him. Liked talking to him. Liked being around him.
But, even so, Kurt couldn’t help but feel guilty over their whole ‘relationship.’ It was as though Kurt was cheating on someone who was not even present in his life...Kurt didn’t know if he liked Bryan for Bryan or if he liked Bryan because of those similarities to Dave.
Kurt was so fucking confused.
“Hey...” Bryan said softly. “I didn’t wake you did I? I was trying to be super quiet.”
“No. No, you didn’t. I was just thinking.”
“Oh? Everything ok?”
“Yeah...all good. Just thinking about work.”
“Oh. Um…if it’s not cool that I stay over, I can go…”
“Bryan…it’s ok. If I didn’t want you here, I’d tell you. Ok?”
“Ok.” Bryan’s face erupted into a massive smile. “Do you want to go to sleep?”
“Yeah. That ok?”
“Of course!”
“I’m just going to go get some water…be right back.”
“I’ll be here. Ready to cuddle if you want…”
“Ok. Sounds good.” Kurt smiled at him…fuck, the man in infectious.
Kurt slipped out of bed and started for the living room. He glanced back and watched as Bryan shimmied further under the covers. He saw Kurt looking and grinned at him.
Fuck, he looked so adorable.
Kurt went into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. He leaned against the counter, closed his eyes and tried to deal with the many many conflicting emotions swimming around in his head.
He’d figure this all out…he always had, and he would again. Refilling his glass, he switched off the lights and started for the bedroom again.
As he was walking past his iPhone, he heard an email come in. Vicki lifted her head from where she was sleeping on her ottoman, clearly annoyed at the intrusion to her beauty rest.
Kurt ignored the cat’s glare and picked up his phone.
He pressed the Mail icon.
“Oh…god.”