about trees and empty forests. chapter 9.
Title: About trees and empty forests. Chapter 9.
Author: xonthefloor
Pairing: Dave Karofsky/Kurt Hummel.
Rating: Nc17.
Warnings: Strip and lap dances. Misunderstood prostitution. Bulimia. Depression. Breath play.
Spoilers: Season One and Two.
Beta: Ella Greggs.
Word Count: 88oo this chapter.
Genre: Romance/Angst/Drama.
Disclaimer: Pfht, if I owned Glee, Blaine wouldn't be on it.
Summary: It’s been five years since Kurt Hummel and Dave Karofsky left Lima, following different paths. Now their lives are far from being what they dreamed for themselves and when they meet again, Dave mistakes Kurt for a hooker. Kurt doesn’t tell him different.
A/N: I started plotting this fic way before the Prom episode. So in this fic, Karofsky hasn't apologized yet.
Chapter 9
Dave finds it hard to concentrate at work, but luckily it doesn’t show. Even though he’s been working on balances and statistics for the past four hours, in the back of his head there are constant thoughts about Kurt. It’s exhausting; it’s exhausting to work and worry about Kurt at the same time.
Dave knew he was playing with fire the first time he saw Kurt and decided to have sex with him, but he didn’t expect to get burned like this. Never in a million years would he have thought he'd be going through all the things that are happening to him now.
Seeing Kurt is not healthy for him, literally; Dave feels that ever since they start seeing each other, he’s getting worse, and coming from him, that’s saying a lot.
Six o'clock Friday finally arrives and Dave couldn’t be happier about that. He packs his laptop along with his other stuff, and after saying goodbye to his workmates, wishing them a great weekend, he heads to the parking lot to get his car and drive home, promising himself that he won’t stop at any place selling food on the way.
He does a remarkable job ignoring Hershey’s in Time Square and a bunch of fast food places. When he passes the Cheesecake Factory his hands tremble while holding the wheel, but he keeps on driving, wrecked and anxious.
Kurt’s going to lead him to a nervous breakdown, Dave just knows it.
When Dave gets back to his apartment, he’s relieved that he’s not carrying bags and bags of unhealthy food, an increasingly common occurrence since he started seeing Kurt.
Dave unfastens his tie and takes off his jacket as he marches to the kitchen where he takes a glass and a bottle of Johnny Walker out of the cupboard. He pours the whiskey into the glass, drinking it all in one go, and then he refills the glass. Dave then heads to the living room, where he turns on the TV, just to avoid being surrounded by silence. He takes off his shoes as he drinks some more alcohol.
He’s a bundle of nerves and he needs to take the edge off somehow. The whiskey will hit him hard with an empty stomach, but tomorrow is Saturday so Dave can give himself the luxury of getting drunk tonight.
Kurt’s ruining him; well, not Kurt, since none of the things that are happening to Dave are Kurt’s fault. It’s just that Dave doesn’t know how to handle this situation and he’s losing control of the few things that he's worked so hard to have control over.
The more he sees Kurt, the more insecure Dave feels. So he's constantly breaking his diet, falling into the sickest binges all the time. It’s not something that never happened before meeting Kurt again, but now Dave’s giving in to temptation almost every other day.
It was his biggest secret, his relationship with food. His old therapist said he was bulimic, and while Dave hates that word, he has to accept that binging and purging is the very definition of bulimia. He hates even more the term ‘eating disorder’, because Dave doesn’t think he has an eating disorder; he’s just fat and fails to keep his weight down.
And now Kurt knows his secret, so he knows how much of a failure Dave is. None of his ex-boyfriends ever found out about his binges and vomiting; they knew about his trouble with eating in public and they were okay with never eating together. In fact, each of his past relationships lasted a long time: he was with his first boyfriend for over a year, and with his second boyfriend almost two years. Dave never lived with them, so maybe that made some difference. Kurt's been coming to his home as his hooker for just one month and already he's found out.
Kurt. The last person on earth Dave would want to know about this.
His stress doesn’t end there, though. Of course it doesn’t, since things always have to be incredibly messy with Dave.
When Dave’s not thinking about the fact that he got caught by Kurt, he thinks about Kurt himself. Dave wonders how Kurt’s doing, if he’s alright, if he’s eating properly, if his clients hurt him...
The wondering and worrying are eating Dave alive. There are so many things he doesn’t know about Kurt... and each new thing Dave finds out about Kurt’s current life just disturbs him more: first he’s a stripper, then he's a lap dancer, then he’s a prostitute, then he’s so broke he can't feed himself properly, then he’s sick, then he gets hit at work...
Dave is still finding it hard to digest what happened their previous night together.
God, Kurt’s freaking asthma attack! When Dave recalls the moment Kurt pushed him away, wheezing and fighting for air, his blood turns cold. He’s never been so scared in his life; for a moment, Dave really thought Kurt was dying or something. Actually, he thought even worse, that he had somehow hurt Kurt.
There’s something more to Kurt’s health problems, though. There must be. As far as Dave knows - which admittedly is not an awful lot - people with asthma lead very normal lives, yet he has the impression Kurt gets stick often.
And some other stuff that Kurt said the last time they saw each other still rings in Dave’s ears: he’s “not helping in the slightest.” Dave pays Kurt a lot more money than his regular clients, and feeds him, too. Of course, having two good meals a week won’t help Kurt much, but anyway they’re seeing each other twice a week, so Kurt gets six C-notes a week, which is twenty-four hundred a month. It’s not a bad haul for sleeping with just one man.
How broke can Kurt be that two thousands four hundred dollars makes no difference?
Dave drinks all the whiskey remaining in his glass and gets up to look for more. His stomach grumbles, but Dave pays no attention. He leaves the glass on the counter and drinks straight from the Johnny Walker bottle as he heads to his bedroom.
This is not healthy; Kurt being back in his life is ruining him, again, but in a different way than it ruined him years ago. Yes, once again Dave feels more horrible about himself than usual just from being in Kurt’s presence. But instead of taking his stress out on other people through bullying, he binges and throws up. And those are both happening way more often than they used to. He’s so constantly anxious that he can’t help eating like a pig just to pamper himself a little, but then he realizes what he did, how fat he is and how unappealing he must be to Kurt...
But really, it's the endless worry and concern for Kurt that is killing him. If Dave loved himself just a little, he’d let Kurt go. He should not call Kurt again, he should just forget about him.
Dave can’t just do that though; for the first time in his life, he has Kurt somehow and he can’t let him go. And Dave knows he’s weak: he can’t even control his weight, so he certainly won’t stop seeing the man he used to love so painfully, even if it brings him nothing but trouble.
Dave needs to know what’s going on with Kurt, and what went so wrong in his life that he ended up like this. Kurt was right, Dave feels the urge to fix him somehow. But it’s not “charity,” as Kurt put it; His motives are totally selfish. Dave figures if he can make his former love better, then he'll feel better, or at least a little less terrible than he does now. So he really needs to help Kurt, because he needs Kurt in his house, in his bed, even if Kurt doesn't really like him and will never genuinely desire him.
Dave drinks more whiskey and he lets himself fall back into bed as he grows woozy. He leaves the empty bottle on the bedside table, dizzy and drowsy.
He’ll figure out something.
*
On Monday, Dave finds himself waiting for Kurt to arrive.
It’s like a new routine that they’ve both tacitly set. Kurt stays over at his place on Mondays and Wednesdays and Dave is glad that Kurt didn't question it when Dave's texts went from, ‘Are you free on Monday/Wednesday?’ to ‘See you tonight.’
Anyone could tell that having a standing appointment with the same hooker twice a week every week means something more than just sex is going on. It could mean a lot of things: you’re falling for the hooker, you’re pathetically lonely and desperate for affection, you have a sick fixation with prostitutes... two of those three options are actually true in Dave’s case, but he doesn’t want to acknowledge that and he certainly won’t acknowledge that to Kurt.
Dinner is ready - Vietnamese this time - waiting for them both. Dave sees no reason to stop their dinners, Kurt already caught on that Dave was trying to feed him and got mad about it, so they're past that. And it’s not even just about making sure Kurt has some decent food; he actually likes having dinner with Kurt. It’s strange, not precisely in a bad way, to have someone to talk to while he eats, since it’s been years since the last time he ate with anyone around.
It’s a bitch though, because it means breaking his strict diet, and since Kurt caught him throwing up before, purging is no longer an option. Dave hates that Kurt knows what he does to lose weight, particularly when he's not even succeeding at it since he’s still overweight. It’s beyond humiliating that Kurt gets to see how much of a failure he is.
Dave is nervous as usual, but unlike the previous times, tonight he’s determined to get answers. Demanding information will probably make Kurt angry, creating more tension, and Kurt will probably give away nothing. And even in the event that Dave does get some information from Kurt, there's a big chance it will be nothing that eases his mind. After all, everything he's learned about Kurt's life so far is bad.
But knowing is always better than not knowing, and this guessing and speculating is killing Dave.
When Kurt arrives, everything goes the same as usual: kiss on the lips, remove the jacket and drop the bag, move to their respective seats and have dinner, engage in some meaningless conversation. The routine they’ve developed is so automatic now that Dave doesn’t have to make any effort to pay attention to the discussion while he tries to figure out how he can ask Kurt about his life, because he can’t just ask.
Dave finishes his food while Kurt is talking about Vietnamese cuisine. It surprises Dave how much Kurt knows about cooking. He mentioned before that he used to cook a lot, but Dave didn’t think he knew so much.
“Did you know Vietnamese is one of the most healthy cuisines in the world?”
Dave’s lips twitch into a small smile. “No, I didn’t know that.” He can hardly fry an egg, so he definitely knows nothing about Vietnamese food except that he likes it. Moments like this, when they’re not fighting or having hooker/customer sex, make him feel like they’re just two people with no major issues who just have dinner together and hang out.
This must be how normal people live and interact, or so Dave guesses. He wishes he was normal.
“I tried cooking it for my Dad sometimes, but no matter what I made he would only eat the spring rolls.”
Dave gets up from the floor, and walks towards Kurt’s place at the table. Kurt hasn’t finished his meal yet, and according to their almost strict routine, this is a new thing. They usually wait until they both finish eating to clean the tables, but now Dave’s sitting across from Kurt, so Kurt puts down the soda glass he's just picked up and stares at him with questioning eyes.
“I was feeling a little lonely,” Dave lies, because he's decided he won’t ask Kurt anything while Kurt’s still eating.
“We were just a few feet apart from each other,” Kurt replies, amused. “You’re done?”
“Yeah. It was good.”
“It’s always good. You definitely know the best take-out places.”
Of course Dave knows, since he’s a pig and even during the short period he’s been in New York, he’s binged on food from almost every place close and not so close to his apartment. He’s sure that that’s not what Kurt meant, but this is Dave’s sad reality. He doesn’t tell Kurt about this, though; Kurt knows enough.
“Do you mind if I stay here?”
Kurt shrugs. “If you like.”
After the disastrous previous night, Dave expected Kurt to be a little apprehensive or distant. But they’re both playing it cool so far, pretending that everything’s fine.
Kurt looks down though, swallowing hard. “So what’s up with you?”
Dave raises a brow. “With me?”
Kurt meets his gaze, his eyes look cold and Dave knows right away that Kurt can sense that the ‘nothing wrong happened between us’ facade is crumbling. It creeps him out how well Kurt can read him.
“Don’t act the fool with me, Karofsky.”
Last names. This is it; there’s no point denying or pretending anymore so Dave nods. “I want to know what happened with you.”
Kurt stares at him for the longest seconds, then he pushes his plate forwards and crosses his arms over his chest. “What happened with me? Nothing happened.”
Kurt’s not going to make this easy and that doesn’t surprise Dave. He tries not to look nervous though. “You know what I mean.”
“It’s none of your business.”
Dave rolls his eyes. “I want to know,” he repeats.
“You know everything you need to know,” Kurt states firmly. “I’m a whore. You pay me for sex. And to eat dinner with you, obviously,” he points at his empty plate. “I’m not getting paid to talk about my personal life, so let’s stick to business, shall we?”
Kurt doesn’t know how hard it is for Dave to cope with not knowing. He doesn't know Dave spends every day they're not together going insane.
So Dave gets up and marches to the coat stand by the front door. He returns to the table with his wallet.
“Fine,” Dave says, taking a fifty from his wallet and placing it on the table. “We'll stick to business. I pay you to fuck me and to have dinner with me, so I guess I can pay you for answers. How about fifty bucks a question?”
If looks could kill, Dave would be dead right now. Kurt’s fuming, completely still in his seat and saying nothing.
“Why did you become a prostitute?” Dave asks straightforwardly.
“I’m not going to answer to that.”
Dave nods, not really giving a damn by this point. “Fifty’s not good enough?” he takes another fifty. “A hundred. More than what you get for a client at your club, so that’s not bad for one question, right? Now, why did you turn into a prostitute?”
Kurt shifts uncomfortably in his place, pressing his lips tight and staring at Dave with disdain. “Screw you,” he grits between his teeth.
Dave shrugs, taking out yet another fifty. Kurt winces when Dave lays the bill over the others, almost like it hurt him. Dave knows he’s being a complete ass but he can’t help it. “A hundred and fifty?”
“Stop it.”
“No? How about two hundred?”
Dave’s about to put down another fifty when Kurt yells at him. “I have a lot of debts! Happy? Now stop that!”
Kurt has debts… that’s good. Well, it’s not good that he has debts, but he’s talking and it’s a start.
“A hundred and fifty per question,” Dave muses, acting cool just to conceal how guilty he feels. Dave won’t let his mind drift to unknown places; he won't dwell on how what he’s doing is humiliating and upsetting Kurt. Answers come first right now. “That’s not so bad, right?”
“You freaking bastard,” Kurt spits out, his voice full of venom.
“So you have debts,” Dave says casually, taking another a hundred and fifty bucks from his wallet and placing them in front of Kurt. Kurt looks like he’s raging. “What kind of debts?”
Kurt goes silent for several seconds and Dave is about to take out more money when Kurt speaks up: “Medical debts.”
Dave nods as his mind starts working fast. So Kurt’s not turning tricks to feed a drug habit or placate an angry pimp or something. That’s comforting as far as it goes. Kurt has asthma, but how can that have fucked up his life so much? There are millions of people with asthma and surely they don’t fall into crushing debt because of it. How sick is Kurt?
“You’re sick,” Dave states, trying to figure out how to phrase his next question and doing his best not to jump to conclusions that will make him worry to death. It’s not comforting at all to know that Kurt is sick somehow. Yet, at that statement, Kurt looks away, like he’s embarrassed. Dave places more money on the table. “What do you have?”
Kurt looks at the money like he’s afraid of it, four hundred and fifty dollars so far right in front of him and he seems to get smaller with each bill Dave lays down. Dave knows he’s being a complete douche, degrading the man he used to love just because he has the urge of being nosy. Dave hates himself, more than he usually does.
“It’s complicated,” Kurt says quietly.
Dave puts yet another hundred and fifty on the table and Kurt runs his hand over his face, exasperated and visibly nervous. “Is it because of the asthma?”
“Yes and no.”
Dave sighs. This is difficult all over again, and Kurt must be less than pleased saying all this stuff to him, even if he’s still saying too little for Dave to piece the story together. Dave’s playing with Kurt’s needs, just to fulfill his own needs; Dave’s making Kurt tell him personal things, things that Kurt would never tell him if it wasn’t for the fact that he needed the money.
He’s the biggest jerk and Dave will punish himself for that later. But he can’t stop now.
He’s about to take more money out of his wallet when Kurt snatches his arm away.
“I’ll tell you, alright? Just stop giving me money!” Kurt tells him, clearly upset.
Dave nods quietly. “Okay.”
Kurt sighs tiredly and opens his mouth, just to close it right away, as if he didn’t know where to start. Dave, in the meanwhile, tries to gather as much courage as he can, because deep down he’s sure that Kurt won’t tell him anything nice.
“I came to New York right after graduation. I was eighteen, and since I didn’t get into the school I wanted, I entered Parsons. Fashion design, you know?” Kurt says with a cold voice, obviously hating to be telling this to anyone, but Dave just listens.
Fashion design, it makes sense to Dave and it’s upsetting to know that once Kurt was on track and now he’s like this.
“I was doing well,” Kurt continues. “Incredible, I might say. But… I started falling sick. Winters in Ohio are bad, but here…” Kurt shivers and Dave frowns. “I never expected the freaking weather was going to get to me so much. During that first fall and winter I fell sick at least six or seven times; mostly flues or bronchitis. By the second year, I was diagnosed with adult on-set asthma.”
Dave nods, not daring to interrupt Kurt.
“It was a shock. I’ve always been so healthy… but it wasn’t that bad. I had school, I was getting an internship at Prada. Being constantly sick didn’t help but I tried to make it work. But then, one night...” Kurt falls silent; he clenches his jaw as if what’s he’s about to say is too difficult, and Dave almost asks Kurt not to say anything anymore but Kurt keeps talking. “I got really sick. I had… I don’t know anymore, bronchitis, bronchiolitis, something like that, and I had an asthma attack. My inhaler didn’t help and I couldn't breathe, so I rushed to the ER. I ended up intubated.”
Dave gapes. He doesn’t know much about medicine, but he’s seen TV shows like ER, House MD and Grey’s Anatomy and usually when doctors yell ‘We have to intubate!’ things are pretty bad. He hates the image of Kurt in his head as one of those patients on TV with tubes taped over their mouths.
“Shit. Because of an asthma attack?”
Kurt shrugs, looking almost defeated. “It was a mix of things, or so the doctors said. When you are under mechanical ventilation, you have to stay in the ICU, you know? And it wouldn’t have been so bad, but I caught hospital-acquired pneumonia.”
Dave only stares at Kurt, who’s not looking at him but at his lap. “You know how there are different kinds of pneumonia? Hospital-acquired pneumonias are especially hard to fight off. They’re more resistant to antibiotics. I ended up in a coma. I was in the ICU in a coma for almost three months. My family came, and I really don’t know how my dad coped with that,” Kurt says, his voice empty of all emotion and Dave’s stomach is almost strangling itself in concern.
“But …you got better.”
Kurt snorts, looking at him with a quirked brow. “Better is a very relative term. I came out of the coma and got discharged; my family went back to Ohio and… well, I tried to resume my life. But I had been absent from work for almost three months and I got fired-”
“What? You were sick,” Dave states, scandalized. After all Kurt went through! “They can’t fire you for being sick!”
“Well, they didn't fire me exactly. It was a twelve-month internship. My contract was almost over and they decided not to renew it. Instead, they gave my position to my then-boyfriend, because while I was in the hospital he was busy fucking his way up the career ladder,” Kurt tells him bitterly and Dave cannot believe that douche. “But that wasn't the worst part. Two weeks after being discharged, I was unemployed plus I had a high rent to pay and no money, and I got this… letter that said I owed a ridiculous amount of money because of my medical treatment.”
Dave shakes his head in confusion. “Didn’t you have health insurance?”
Kurt lets out an icy laugh. “Have you ever watched Michael Moore’s 'Sicko'?” Dave shakes his head no. “You should. Even with the best coverage, health insurance never pays for all the treatment, and I had nowhere near the best coverage. Do you know how much does a day in the ICU and with mechanical ventilation costs?”
Dave swallows hard. “Not really.”
“A whole freaking lot. My insurance did pay, but that didn't take care of even half the total cost. So I ended up with an outrageously huge debt.”
“How much?”
Kurt gives him a sad smile. “That I won’t tell you, no matter how much money you offer me.”
“Kurt -”
“So I was unemployed, with an expensive rent and a huge debt. I didn’t want to tell my father; he had a second heart attack, not long before I ended up in hospital. He was recovering from that and had to see his son in a coma for months.... I didn’t want to stress him even more; he still doesn’t know.”
Dave remembers how concerned Kurt was over the prospect of his father finding out he’s a hooker now. It makes Dave feel like hell that Kurt is dealing with all this by himself.
But Kurt's really close with his Dad, so how does that even work? “So what? You said you talk to him, you mentioned that he called you or something. You tell him you’re doing great?”
Kurt flinches; obviously this is a sensitive point. But then Kurt shrugs, like he doesn’t care anymore. “He thinks I’m living a fabulous life, working for Prada. That because I’m so busy, I never have time to visit him, not at Thanksgiving or Christmas, even, because I’m working on the upcoming collections or traveling to France for fashion shows or doing whatever other elaborate fiction I can make up,” he says, letting out a sad laugh.
It’s sad, because that “elaborate fiction,” that’s how Kurt’s life is supposed to be.
“Why didn’t you declare bankruptcy?” Dave inquires, because there must be other options besides whoring himself.
“I was twenty years old, David. It would have ruined me for life; how could I ever, I don’t know, apply for a credit card or buy a car or get a housing loan, or do anything with a bankruptcy on my record?”
“It’s ruining your life already!”
“It’s not forever! Eventually, I’ll pay the whole thing off,” Kurt states firmly and proudly. “That freaking bill won’t stop me, I won’t let that happen. I’m working hard to get rid of it and then I'll move on with the rest of my life.”
Dave pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself down because this is ridiculous. Kurt stares at him defiantly and it’s obvious that he’s very determined about this, but for fucks sake!
“You’re whoring yourself,” Dave states as calmly as he can. “What on earth were you thinking when you decided that was a good idea? I get that you have debts but-”
“You don’t,” Kurt cuts him off. “Look where you live, how you dress… your car… what do you know about having to squeeze the most out of every cent you have to get through the month? You probably work hard to have all this. Well, I work hard to have what I’ve got. It might not be a lot right now, but that’s how life is.”
“You’re whoring yourself,” Dave repeats and Kurt gives him an icy smile.
“You keep saying that like it bothers you, but I notice you don’t seem very reluctant each time you take me to bed. We both get something out of this situation so it's not really that bad, right?”
Dave quickly shuts his mouth because Kurt’s got him there. What can Dave say? That this is the only way he can have him? Dave won’t admit that to Kurt. The truth is Dave never felt disgusted with Kurt for being a hooker, it disgusted him that Kurt had to do such a thing. The mere idea of Kurt getting fucked by strangers every night still makes him sick, but Kurt's right - Dave's not exactly suffering from Kurt's hardship, not in that way, anyway.
“I’ve just...” Dave doesn’t know what to say. “Okay, how did you even end up in that horrible club.”
Kurt shrugs like it’s not a big deal.
“I needed money,” Kurt tells him matter-of-factly. It really disturbs Dave how Kurt freaking Hummel, the fabulous guy who used to strut around the hallways of McKinley with his superior air, chin raised, proud and strong, has come to accept this as his life. “I was only twenty, always been a daddy’s boy. I thought so little about money, I even had an apartment in Manhattan that I could hardly afford but it was trendy. But then suddenly I had to face this huge thing, all by myself. I had all this money I had to pay, and my priorities changed. I just grew up.”
Dave snorts, not believing his ears. “Grew up? You call turning into a prostitute growing up?”
Kurt glares at him. “I call taking responsibility of your acts growing up.”
“Your acts?” This guy is going to drive Dave insane. “You didn’t do anything wrong! You fell terribly sick!”
“It doesn’t matter what happened! There were still consequences and I had to deal them!”
God, Dave’s going to lose his mind, but he tries to calm down because he really wants to stop them yelling at each other. “I just…”
“I work at a strip club, so what?” Kurt asks defiantly. “I had and still have huge debts. I did what was necessary. I moved to the cheapest place I could find, got a job where they wouldn't fire me if I had to skip work when I got sick, which is way too often, by the way. It wasn’t enough, so I looked for another job and The VIP came along. Night shifts paid more, and waiting tables couldn’t be so difficult, right?”
“Waiting tables?” Dave inquires with disdain.
Kurt shrugs again. “That was all I did at first. But then lap dances meant extra money in my pocket, so why not? And then performing on stage was more money as well.”
“And fucking clients is more money as well, right?”
Kurt stares at him quietly, with no emotion in his eyes. “It’s not something that makes me proud, but yeah. I’ve found that being a whore, it’s more money, sadly.”
They both fall into an uncomfortable silence that Kurt breaks after several seconds. “Are we done or do you have more questions?” Kurt inquires and honestly, Dave doesn’t know what more to ask.
He did get some answers, the uncertainty is gone, but what changes because of it? Nothing. Kurt will keep on whoring himself until his debt is paid, and that scares Dave.
“How’s your health now?”
“Flu, bronchitis and stuff… I get sick more often than not, but I get by,” Kurt states, getting up from his chair. “I’m not sick now though.”
Dave stares up into Kurt’s flirty eyes in shock. How can Kurt do this? He just poured out all these bad things about his life and now he’s hitting on him?
Kurt straddles Dave’s lap, throwing his arms around his neck and even if Dave was far from being horny, he’s slowly getting there now because Kurt being so close always has that effect on him. Kurt’s gazing seductive and then he reduces the distance between them, running his tongue over Dave’s neck.
Dave moans.
*
This is what Kurt needs: Dave moaning under his touch.
Kurt needs to be Dave’s hooker, his good and confident whore. It is much better than being himself - the broken, ill guy who lets another guy pay him for sex in order not to feel so alone.
Kurt never wanted to let Dave - his client - into his life.
It wasn’t and still isn’t anybody else’s business, but Kurt was just forced to display all the misery of his life, to strip himself bare, to reveal all his issues and vulnerabilities.
At the same time, part of him is glad he told Dave. Now there’s nothing else to hide - except the fact that he's not actually a hooker, except for Dave - and it’s almost refreshing, in a sad way, that for the first time someone knows about all of him.
Back in Lima, his family think he’s living a big life in New York and has turned into a cold-hearted bitch who won’t even visit his parents for Christmas. They don’t know what’s really going on with him. In New York, he only has his coworkers and neighbors, and they know him as the broke kid who works a lot and gets sick all the time, unaware of the person he used to be years ago. No one knows both parts of his life; everyone sees him as two different people. But now Dave knows. Dave knows who Kurt was then and who he is now, and that he’s just one person.
It’s a relief.
But it also makes him weak, and Kurt can’t be weak or all the weight of his life will fall over him, crushing him.
So he told Dave almost everything, but he never showed any weakness. Kurt won’t let Dave pity him even more than he does already, which is why he had to stop Dave from paying him to answer questions.
So Kurt grinds Dave’s lap, focusing on his hooker persona instead of all the things he just spilled about his life.
Dave groans, gripping him hard by his hips and Kurt moans in pleasure, quickly attaching his mouth to Dave’s, kissing him hard. Yes, this is exactly what Kurt needs, and he revels in the fact that he's learned to do it well.
Dave slides his hands under Kurt’s ass and gets up from the chair, lifting Kurt in the air in the process. Kurt grins, clasping his legs around Dave’s waist, feeling hot and stupidly giddy because it’s ridiculous how much he enjoys when Dave lifts him up; Dave’s strength is incredibly arousing.
They quickly make it to the bedroom and get undressed in almost record time. Maybe Kurt’s wrong, but it feels like Dave needs to forget about their conversation just as much as he does.
Kurt is desperate for Dave to be inside him, so when Dave starts to kiss his chest and hips, Kurt squirms in pleasure, not being able to take much of this rushed foreplay.
“Dave, please,” Kurt gasps, naked and hot underneath the other man. “Just fuck me now.”
“Fuck, yes,” Dave grunts, getting the lube from his bedside table and pouring it onto his fingers.
Kurt rolls onto his hands and knees. He’s learning to love this position, because while in the past getting it from behind seemed impersonal and well, slutty, it feels fantastic when Dave fucks him this way. And to be honest, he actually enjoys being slutty for Dave.
“So fucking hot,” Kurt hears Dave whispering and Dave’s desire makes him shiver.
Dave kneels behind Kurt and starts probing his entrance.
“Oh, God!” Kurt moans in anticipation, wishing he didn’t need any preparation so he could take Dave right now.
Dave slides one and then two fingers in, moving in a circular motion, and Kurt’s neediness overrides any discomfort he might be feeling. But then Dave replaces his fingers with his tongue and Kurt sees white.
He rocks back in order to get more contact with Dave’s tongue but then it’s gone. Kurt lets out a frustrated groan, but he listens to Dave opening the condom and that gets him more worked up.
Then Dave presses his cock against his hole, pushing slowly inside and Kurt has to fight the urge to impale himself on Dave. They both moan loudly once Dave gets all the way inside him, holding Kurt’s hips to steady himself.
Dave's thrusts are painfully slow; so slow that the pleasure lingers for longer, driving Kurt almost insane; but he doesn’t complain about the steady, sturdy and slow pace that Dave’s building. Kurt doesn’t want to be in charge right now, he wants Dave to lead the way. He’s so exhausted with his own life that he's relieved to let someone else control what he's doing, even if what he's doing is a three hundred dollar fuck.
Dave’s filling him so much; the pressure is so intense that Kurt believes he could come right now, being hard as rock already and he hasn’t even touched himself yet. Dave’s moans echo in his ears, making him moan as well, every time louder, almost begging for more, faster and harder.
Finally, Dave catches on to Kurt’s needs and he starts thrusting faster.
“Oh, God, yes,” Kurt grunts, pushing himself backwards to meet Dave’s thrusts.
Dave holds him then by his shoulders, pulling Kurt deeper against him. Dave must recognize his urgency, even if Kurt’s not demanding anything out loud, because Dave starts pounding his cock harshly inside Kurt’s ass, making Kurt almost whimper in ecstasy.
Kurt feels himself drowning in a puddle of messy bliss. He focuses solely on the feeling in his ass, Dave brushing his prostate over and over, and the hardness of his own cock, that makes him let out crude, loud moans.
“Dave,” Kurt pants. “Fuck, Dave.”
Dave’s nails dig deeper into the flesh of his shoulders and the pain drives him wild. He would fist his cock right now if it wasn’t for the fact that if he removes a hand from the mattress, he’ll lose all balance.
But then, all of a sudden, Dave pulls out completely and Kurt’s about to complain when Dave grabs him by his waist and, in a quick motion, flips him over. Kurt lands on his back and Dave’s immediately pushing Kurt’s legs apart, burying himself between them until his cock is once again deep inside Kurt.
Kurt wastes no time wrapping his legs around Dave’s hips, locking his ankles tightly and pulling him as close as he can. His cock is trapped between his and Dave’s bellies, but Dave’s thrusts apply friction to his neglected cock and it’s incredible.
He feels so close to coming that he wants to cry, because Dave’s found his way to his prostate all over again, crushing it over and over. He really doesn’t want this to end just yet.
“I don’t want to come,” Kurt moans, and it sounds like a desperate cry.
Dave lies on top of him, propping onto his elbows on either side of Kurt’s head. Dave’s hot breath is right in his face as he whispers: “You’ll come when I want you to, doll.”
Kurt moans instantly at Dave’s severe tone of voice. It was low, but firm. Dave’s in charge and Kurt feels like he’s going to burn up.
“I’m going to make you come so many times tonight you won’t be able to get up for days,” Dave grunts at Kurt’s ear, his voice hoarse.
Dave’s words hit him like a slap and he squirms in pleasure; his brain is melting in lust. He mewls because, yes, he wants that. “Yes,” Kurt sobs, going insane at Dave’s words and thrusts. “Please, please do that.”
Kurt needs that; he needs to forget about everything in his life and just concentrate on this pleasure. Kurt wants Dave to make him forget about all the things they talked about and all the troubles that wait for him on the other side of Dave’s door.
Dave kisses him on his cheek, then he runs his tongue over Kurt’s jaw. Dave holds Kurt by his chin, and proceeds to kiss him hard on the mouth, sticking his tongue inside, and Kurt kisses him back eagerly.
Dave breaks the kiss, and his thrusts become slow again and steady, but Dave doesn’t pull out. Kurt has his eyes shut, trying not to go insane because the combination of Dave’s weight over him, the heat coming from his body, and Dave’s breath against his face, along with the slow and shallow thrust are pushing him to the edge.
The room falls silent and all Kurt can hear is their breathing.
And then Kurt feels it. Dave’s hand is now firmly around his neck; all Kurt’s thoughts stop immediately. Dave’s doing this again and Kurt didn’t need to ask; the joy and pleasure is overwhelming.
Dave starts pounding harder and faster, making the friction on Kurt’s trapped cock increase. He’s muttering words at Kurt’s ear, but Kurt can’t process them. All he can sense is Dave’s tight grip around his neck, blocking oxygen from reaching his brain.
It’s once again incredible. He normally fears not being able to breathe properly, but this… it’s perfect. Neither fate nor bad luck nor ill health are preventing him from breathing. Dave is controlling his air, controlling him, and it’s as comforting as it is mind-blowing.
Kurt grows even hotter as his orgasm is right there ready to explode. He starts feeling dizzy but he smiles in bliss, letting himself go, surrendering to the pleasure he’s feeling. Dave’s thrusting harder and deeper and all the sensations and feelings become too overwhelming for Kurt: his wrecked prostate, the friction on his cock, the lack of air, Dave’s tight grip around his neck, Dave’s… control.
His orgasm hits him like a train. “Dave, oh, fuck!” Kurt grits through his teeth breathlessly as he comes and his body goes rigid, every cell clenching in the boldest lust.
Kurt’s trembling when Dave releases his grip on his throat, but keeps his fingers on his chin, holding him tightly.
“Deep breaths, Kurt,” Dave commands and Kurt nods, knowing that if he starts breathing too fast, he’ll trigger an asthma attack or hyperventilate.
He takes deep, slow breaths, even if it’s hard, since he can hardly coordinate as Dave moves away from on top of him. Kurt still has his eyes shut. He can hear Dave panting, but close to him. He starts noticing the wet come on his belly growing cold, but he can’t bring himself to care.
Little by little, his body starts easing and his breath turns normal. Dave is suddenly next to him, wrapping arms around him, pushing against him until they’re chest to chest, and Kurt hugs him back weakly as Dave starts kissing him all over his chin and his abused neck. Kurt smiles at this affection.
Just like the last time, Dave seems bothered at having choked him and Kurt wishes he wasn't.
“I’ll bring you some water,” Dave mumbles, sounding guilty.
Kurt wants to say something, but he’s still a bit dazed from both the lack of air and the striking orgasm. He misses Dave’s warmth, though.
He wipes his belly with the sheet, since it’s the closest thing he can find, and sits up straight in bed right when Dave hands him the glass of water. Kurt drinks it down, while Dave disappears into the bathroom, just to come out seconds later sporting a new clean T-shirt.
Then he sits on the bed across from Kurt. “Are you okay?”
Kurt puts the empty glass of water on the bedside table and lays back on the mattress. “I’m perfect, David.”
Dave still looks troubled. “I’m sorry, I got carried away. I shouldn’t have-”
“Stop saying you’re sorry,” Kurt cuts him off. He’s content and well laid; very well laid. He doesn’t want any more drama. God knows they both have enough drama in their respective lives.
“But your asthma... you have breathing problems and-”
“Stop it!” Kurt cuts him off again, firmer this time. “It doesn’t hurt me! If you want to know, smoke makes me sick. Cold weather does to, and sometimes I’m just standing around doing nothing and still I need to get my inhaler to clear my lungs, so stop worrying about this. I like it; I’m glad you did it. It feels good. If anything, you should do it more often,” he adds in a playful tone of voice to ease the tension.
“It’s not good to abuse it,” Dave tells him, obviously knowing much more about this kink. Kurt is tempted to ask, but he doesn’t.
Kurt runs his hand over Dave’s thigh. “Whenever you feel like doing it, just know that I actually love it.”
Dave presses his lips tight, not fully convinced but definitely not as troubled as he was seconds before. “I should take a shower. Want to go first?”
Kurt snorts. “Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could move.”
Dave leans over, kissing him on his forehead. “Then rest a bit. I’ll be back in a few.”
With that, Dave gets up and heads to the bathroom, but when he’s about to reach the door, Kurt speaks up. “Did you even come?”
He realizes that he never heard or felt Dave coming. He wants to slap himself, because he’s the hooker and once again, he left Dave unsatisfied. But Dave laughs loudly, making him frown.
“Seriously? I guess you had hell of an orgasm if you didn’t even hear me moaning. I came, believe me!”
Well, that’s kind of embarrassing but Kurt really didn’t hear Dave. Apparently he was too wrapped up in his own pleasure.
When he hears the water running, Kurt lays his head on the pillow, covering himself with the blankets, and without even noticing he starts drifting into a heavy sleep.
*
Kurt is very sore when he wakes up in the morning. Dave kept his promise and made him come four times the previous night; Kurt’s cock is sore and so are his legs, and his ass. He doesn’t mind, though, because it’s a nice ache.
There’s a lot of sunlight coming through the windows and he frowns. This is not the first time he's woken up in Dave’s bed, but it usually isn't so bright. When his eyes find the alarm clock he practically jumps. Ten past eleven! He can’t hear anything but silence, and it’s obvious that Dave has gone.
Kurt scrambles out of bed and instantly starts coughing. He actually needs to stand still for a few minutes, because the coughing doesn’t seem to end, and he can feel the phlegm clogging up his throat.
He’s definitely getting sick.
Once his lungs give him a break, Kurt finds a grey cardigan hanging from Dave’s armchair and takes it just to cover himself with something. It’s lovely. In spite of being way too big for him since the cardigan ends half way down his tights, the sleeves are too long and the neck opening almost hangs loose from his shoulders, the knitting is lovely and incredibly warm, and it smells like Dave’s Hugo Boss.
Kurt closes the cardigan around him, and walks around Dave’s presumably empty apartment.
This is weird. Why didn’t Dave wake him up? Dave usually wakes him up when he gets ready for work, and they leave at the same time. It gives Kurt time to go back to his place, take a shower and kill some time until he has to go to MetFood. But Dave clearly let him sleep in.
He spots a paper bag from Starbucks on Dave’s dining table and when Kurt picks it up, he finds a note underneath, plus a bunch of bills of one hundred dollar bills. He avoids the money, but takes the note and reads:
‘Kurt: You were too worn out, I didn’t want to wake you up. Hope I won’t get you in trouble if you have to work today. I got you some breakfast; feel free to take a bath or to do anything you want. I won’t be back until six, so the house is yours. The street door opens from the inside, so you won’t need a key. Be safe, and see you soon. Dave.’
Kurt’s chest aches painfully. He peeks inside the Starbucks bag and there’s a grande coffee and two muffins. Kurt hasn't had a Starbucks grande anything in several years, because five dollars for coffee is pretty freaking outrageous when you're trying to save money. The coffee is cold, but he still takes it and pads to the kitchen to reheat it in the microwave. On the way, he coughs more and louder.
He can already feel his nose growing runny.
Yet he feels awful for things that go beyond his health. It’s uncomfortable to be in Dave’s apartment alone, without Dave. It’s uncomfortable to be comfortable in Dave’s apartment, with or without Dave, because Kurt’s certainly not hurrying to get dressed and leave.
The microwave beeps and Kurt takes his coffee, which happens to be a simple mocha. Dave doesn’t know his favorite coffee, but Kurt likes mocha and it tastes just as good as Kurt remembers.
He sits at Dave’s table, observing the empty apartment. It looks different in daylight; brighter and homey. Kurt also notices how warm he’s feeling, which surprises him since he’s wearing nothing but Dave’s cardigan. He’d never walk around nearly naked at his place. No matter how hot it is outside, that freaking apartment feels like a refrigerator all the time.
But then he hears the smooth buzzing coming from the vent and of course, Dave turned the heat up for him. Kurt can’t say he hates the warmth, but he does hate that Dave did such a thing.
Kurt continues drinking his coffee, taking the two muffins from the bag. One seems to be buttermilk blueberry and the other banana with chocolate chips.
The idea makes his stomach flip. Dave actually got up, went to Starbucks, came back with breakfast for him, and then went to work. All the trouble Dave took makes him feel uneasy.
Why is Dave pampering him so much? Maybe he feels guilty for all the things he made Kurt say last night? Kurt picks up the money, just to count it, and his hands tremble when he counts nine hundred dollars.
A hundred and fifty per question, and Kurt answered four. It’s like he keeps finding new ways to shamelessly steal money from Dave, first for sex, then for eating Dave's food, and now for just talking; at least Kurt feels that way. He quickly puts the money in the table as if it burned.
Kurt’s not a hooker per se; Dave should not be paying him anything. Kurt would do any of the things they do together for free, and that realization makes him feel disgusted. Not with Dave or the fact that he’s doing all this with Dave; he’s disgusted with himself. How the hell is he going to get out of this situation?
The money thing wounds his spirit pretty badly, but he can’t tell Dave that he’s never been a hooker. That would be admitting that he’s actually been stealing his money all this time; that they could have had random sex from the beginning but Kurt chose to let him pay.
And he’s a hooker in Dave’s eyes. If Dave wanted a date, he would surely not choose a guy who supposedly gets fucked who knows how many times every night for seventy bucks.
It’s not like Kurt wants to date Dave. It’s just that maybe if money wasn’t involved, if he wasn’t supposed to be a hooker, all this wouldn’t feel so wrong.
Despite his misgivings, Kurt decides to hang out in Dave’s apartment. It’s warm and comfortable, and he could go from here to MetFood. What’s the point of stopping by his apartment? It’s cold and depressing and Kurt hates being there most of the time. He wouldn’t ever go back to his place if it weren't for the fact that he needs somewhere to sleep.
Kurt finishes his breakfast, and starts coughing some more. He wipes his nose, which is getting really runny, and he curses his life. Hopefully he’ll make it through the day.
He takes Dave’s advice and runs a bath. He should probably go for the shower, since it makes more steam and that’s good for his lungs, but he doesn't get to have warm baths often, so why not?
But just when he’s about to step into the tub, his eyes fall on the cabinet and he remembers all the pills Dave has inside there. Kurt also realizes that the clean tees Dave keeps changing into are under the counter.
There are tears rolling down his cheeks when he steps into the warm bath.
This situation is killing him.
Here he is prowling around a nice apartment in the best part of Brooklyn like he owned it; a place that reminds him how different his life is, because this is not his apartment. This apartment belongs to his client. Kurt lives in a sketchy part of the Bronx, because he’s just the hooker.
Now Dave knows everything about his life, and that’s simply not fair, because Kurt still doesn’t know what Dave’s job is, or if he’s out or not, or why he’s so sad that he needs to take so many pills. There’s also the bulimia thing that freaks Kurt out.
It’s simply not fair. Kurt was already at a disadvantage with Dave by the mere fact of being the hooker in this relationship, but now it’s even worse, because Dave knows all about his messed up life and Kurt is defenseless.
The warm bath feels soothing and comfortable. Kurt cries harder. Being in this place, with or without Dave, is so confusing. He should run away in order to stop feeling so bad about himself, and he would leave, if it wasn’t for the fact that at the same time, he wants to stay.
He wants to stay here very much, and that just kills him.
Author: xonthefloor
Pairing: Dave Karofsky/Kurt Hummel.
Rating: Nc17.
Warnings: Strip and lap dances. Misunderstood prostitution. Bulimia. Depression. Breath play.
Spoilers: Season One and Two.
Beta: Ella Greggs.
Word Count: 88oo this chapter.
Genre: Romance/Angst/Drama.
Disclaimer: Pfht, if I owned Glee, Blaine wouldn't be on it.
Summary: It’s been five years since Kurt Hummel and Dave Karofsky left Lima, following different paths. Now their lives are far from being what they dreamed for themselves and when they meet again, Dave mistakes Kurt for a hooker. Kurt doesn’t tell him different.
A/N: I started plotting this fic way before the Prom episode. So in this fic, Karofsky hasn't apologized yet.
Chapter 9
Dave finds it hard to concentrate at work, but luckily it doesn’t show. Even though he’s been working on balances and statistics for the past four hours, in the back of his head there are constant thoughts about Kurt. It’s exhausting; it’s exhausting to work and worry about Kurt at the same time.
Dave knew he was playing with fire the first time he saw Kurt and decided to have sex with him, but he didn’t expect to get burned like this. Never in a million years would he have thought he'd be going through all the things that are happening to him now.
Seeing Kurt is not healthy for him, literally; Dave feels that ever since they start seeing each other, he’s getting worse, and coming from him, that’s saying a lot.
Six o'clock Friday finally arrives and Dave couldn’t be happier about that. He packs his laptop along with his other stuff, and after saying goodbye to his workmates, wishing them a great weekend, he heads to the parking lot to get his car and drive home, promising himself that he won’t stop at any place selling food on the way.
He does a remarkable job ignoring Hershey’s in Time Square and a bunch of fast food places. When he passes the Cheesecake Factory his hands tremble while holding the wheel, but he keeps on driving, wrecked and anxious.
Kurt’s going to lead him to a nervous breakdown, Dave just knows it.
When Dave gets back to his apartment, he’s relieved that he’s not carrying bags and bags of unhealthy food, an increasingly common occurrence since he started seeing Kurt.
Dave unfastens his tie and takes off his jacket as he marches to the kitchen where he takes a glass and a bottle of Johnny Walker out of the cupboard. He pours the whiskey into the glass, drinking it all in one go, and then he refills the glass. Dave then heads to the living room, where he turns on the TV, just to avoid being surrounded by silence. He takes off his shoes as he drinks some more alcohol.
He’s a bundle of nerves and he needs to take the edge off somehow. The whiskey will hit him hard with an empty stomach, but tomorrow is Saturday so Dave can give himself the luxury of getting drunk tonight.
Kurt’s ruining him; well, not Kurt, since none of the things that are happening to Dave are Kurt’s fault. It’s just that Dave doesn’t know how to handle this situation and he’s losing control of the few things that he's worked so hard to have control over.
The more he sees Kurt, the more insecure Dave feels. So he's constantly breaking his diet, falling into the sickest binges all the time. It’s not something that never happened before meeting Kurt again, but now Dave’s giving in to temptation almost every other day.
It was his biggest secret, his relationship with food. His old therapist said he was bulimic, and while Dave hates that word, he has to accept that binging and purging is the very definition of bulimia. He hates even more the term ‘eating disorder’, because Dave doesn’t think he has an eating disorder; he’s just fat and fails to keep his weight down.
And now Kurt knows his secret, so he knows how much of a failure Dave is. None of his ex-boyfriends ever found out about his binges and vomiting; they knew about his trouble with eating in public and they were okay with never eating together. In fact, each of his past relationships lasted a long time: he was with his first boyfriend for over a year, and with his second boyfriend almost two years. Dave never lived with them, so maybe that made some difference. Kurt's been coming to his home as his hooker for just one month and already he's found out.
Kurt. The last person on earth Dave would want to know about this.
His stress doesn’t end there, though. Of course it doesn’t, since things always have to be incredibly messy with Dave.
When Dave’s not thinking about the fact that he got caught by Kurt, he thinks about Kurt himself. Dave wonders how Kurt’s doing, if he’s alright, if he’s eating properly, if his clients hurt him...
The wondering and worrying are eating Dave alive. There are so many things he doesn’t know about Kurt... and each new thing Dave finds out about Kurt’s current life just disturbs him more: first he’s a stripper, then he's a lap dancer, then he’s a prostitute, then he’s so broke he can't feed himself properly, then he’s sick, then he gets hit at work...
Dave is still finding it hard to digest what happened their previous night together.
God, Kurt’s freaking asthma attack! When Dave recalls the moment Kurt pushed him away, wheezing and fighting for air, his blood turns cold. He’s never been so scared in his life; for a moment, Dave really thought Kurt was dying or something. Actually, he thought even worse, that he had somehow hurt Kurt.
There’s something more to Kurt’s health problems, though. There must be. As far as Dave knows - which admittedly is not an awful lot - people with asthma lead very normal lives, yet he has the impression Kurt gets stick often.
And some other stuff that Kurt said the last time they saw each other still rings in Dave’s ears: he’s “not helping in the slightest.” Dave pays Kurt a lot more money than his regular clients, and feeds him, too. Of course, having two good meals a week won’t help Kurt much, but anyway they’re seeing each other twice a week, so Kurt gets six C-notes a week, which is twenty-four hundred a month. It’s not a bad haul for sleeping with just one man.
How broke can Kurt be that two thousands four hundred dollars makes no difference?
Dave drinks all the whiskey remaining in his glass and gets up to look for more. His stomach grumbles, but Dave pays no attention. He leaves the glass on the counter and drinks straight from the Johnny Walker bottle as he heads to his bedroom.
This is not healthy; Kurt being back in his life is ruining him, again, but in a different way than it ruined him years ago. Yes, once again Dave feels more horrible about himself than usual just from being in Kurt’s presence. But instead of taking his stress out on other people through bullying, he binges and throws up. And those are both happening way more often than they used to. He’s so constantly anxious that he can’t help eating like a pig just to pamper himself a little, but then he realizes what he did, how fat he is and how unappealing he must be to Kurt...
But really, it's the endless worry and concern for Kurt that is killing him. If Dave loved himself just a little, he’d let Kurt go. He should not call Kurt again, he should just forget about him.
Dave can’t just do that though; for the first time in his life, he has Kurt somehow and he can’t let him go. And Dave knows he’s weak: he can’t even control his weight, so he certainly won’t stop seeing the man he used to love so painfully, even if it brings him nothing but trouble.
Dave needs to know what’s going on with Kurt, and what went so wrong in his life that he ended up like this. Kurt was right, Dave feels the urge to fix him somehow. But it’s not “charity,” as Kurt put it; His motives are totally selfish. Dave figures if he can make his former love better, then he'll feel better, or at least a little less terrible than he does now. So he really needs to help Kurt, because he needs Kurt in his house, in his bed, even if Kurt doesn't really like him and will never genuinely desire him.
Dave drinks more whiskey and he lets himself fall back into bed as he grows woozy. He leaves the empty bottle on the bedside table, dizzy and drowsy.
He’ll figure out something.
*
On Monday, Dave finds himself waiting for Kurt to arrive.
It’s like a new routine that they’ve both tacitly set. Kurt stays over at his place on Mondays and Wednesdays and Dave is glad that Kurt didn't question it when Dave's texts went from, ‘Are you free on Monday/Wednesday?’ to ‘See you tonight.’
Anyone could tell that having a standing appointment with the same hooker twice a week every week means something more than just sex is going on. It could mean a lot of things: you’re falling for the hooker, you’re pathetically lonely and desperate for affection, you have a sick fixation with prostitutes... two of those three options are actually true in Dave’s case, but he doesn’t want to acknowledge that and he certainly won’t acknowledge that to Kurt.
Dinner is ready - Vietnamese this time - waiting for them both. Dave sees no reason to stop their dinners, Kurt already caught on that Dave was trying to feed him and got mad about it, so they're past that. And it’s not even just about making sure Kurt has some decent food; he actually likes having dinner with Kurt. It’s strange, not precisely in a bad way, to have someone to talk to while he eats, since it’s been years since the last time he ate with anyone around.
It’s a bitch though, because it means breaking his strict diet, and since Kurt caught him throwing up before, purging is no longer an option. Dave hates that Kurt knows what he does to lose weight, particularly when he's not even succeeding at it since he’s still overweight. It’s beyond humiliating that Kurt gets to see how much of a failure he is.
Dave is nervous as usual, but unlike the previous times, tonight he’s determined to get answers. Demanding information will probably make Kurt angry, creating more tension, and Kurt will probably give away nothing. And even in the event that Dave does get some information from Kurt, there's a big chance it will be nothing that eases his mind. After all, everything he's learned about Kurt's life so far is bad.
But knowing is always better than not knowing, and this guessing and speculating is killing Dave.
When Kurt arrives, everything goes the same as usual: kiss on the lips, remove the jacket and drop the bag, move to their respective seats and have dinner, engage in some meaningless conversation. The routine they’ve developed is so automatic now that Dave doesn’t have to make any effort to pay attention to the discussion while he tries to figure out how he can ask Kurt about his life, because he can’t just ask.
Dave finishes his food while Kurt is talking about Vietnamese cuisine. It surprises Dave how much Kurt knows about cooking. He mentioned before that he used to cook a lot, but Dave didn’t think he knew so much.
“Did you know Vietnamese is one of the most healthy cuisines in the world?”
Dave’s lips twitch into a small smile. “No, I didn’t know that.” He can hardly fry an egg, so he definitely knows nothing about Vietnamese food except that he likes it. Moments like this, when they’re not fighting or having hooker/customer sex, make him feel like they’re just two people with no major issues who just have dinner together and hang out.
This must be how normal people live and interact, or so Dave guesses. He wishes he was normal.
“I tried cooking it for my Dad sometimes, but no matter what I made he would only eat the spring rolls.”
Dave gets up from the floor, and walks towards Kurt’s place at the table. Kurt hasn’t finished his meal yet, and according to their almost strict routine, this is a new thing. They usually wait until they both finish eating to clean the tables, but now Dave’s sitting across from Kurt, so Kurt puts down the soda glass he's just picked up and stares at him with questioning eyes.
“I was feeling a little lonely,” Dave lies, because he's decided he won’t ask Kurt anything while Kurt’s still eating.
“We were just a few feet apart from each other,” Kurt replies, amused. “You’re done?”
“Yeah. It was good.”
“It’s always good. You definitely know the best take-out places.”
Of course Dave knows, since he’s a pig and even during the short period he’s been in New York, he’s binged on food from almost every place close and not so close to his apartment. He’s sure that that’s not what Kurt meant, but this is Dave’s sad reality. He doesn’t tell Kurt about this, though; Kurt knows enough.
“Do you mind if I stay here?”
Kurt shrugs. “If you like.”
After the disastrous previous night, Dave expected Kurt to be a little apprehensive or distant. But they’re both playing it cool so far, pretending that everything’s fine.
Kurt looks down though, swallowing hard. “So what’s up with you?”
Dave raises a brow. “With me?”
Kurt meets his gaze, his eyes look cold and Dave knows right away that Kurt can sense that the ‘nothing wrong happened between us’ facade is crumbling. It creeps him out how well Kurt can read him.
“Don’t act the fool with me, Karofsky.”
Last names. This is it; there’s no point denying or pretending anymore so Dave nods. “I want to know what happened with you.”
Kurt stares at him for the longest seconds, then he pushes his plate forwards and crosses his arms over his chest. “What happened with me? Nothing happened.”
Kurt’s not going to make this easy and that doesn’t surprise Dave. He tries not to look nervous though. “You know what I mean.”
“It’s none of your business.”
Dave rolls his eyes. “I want to know,” he repeats.
“You know everything you need to know,” Kurt states firmly. “I’m a whore. You pay me for sex. And to eat dinner with you, obviously,” he points at his empty plate. “I’m not getting paid to talk about my personal life, so let’s stick to business, shall we?”
Kurt doesn’t know how hard it is for Dave to cope with not knowing. He doesn't know Dave spends every day they're not together going insane.
So Dave gets up and marches to the coat stand by the front door. He returns to the table with his wallet.
“Fine,” Dave says, taking a fifty from his wallet and placing it on the table. “We'll stick to business. I pay you to fuck me and to have dinner with me, so I guess I can pay you for answers. How about fifty bucks a question?”
If looks could kill, Dave would be dead right now. Kurt’s fuming, completely still in his seat and saying nothing.
“Why did you become a prostitute?” Dave asks straightforwardly.
“I’m not going to answer to that.”
Dave nods, not really giving a damn by this point. “Fifty’s not good enough?” he takes another fifty. “A hundred. More than what you get for a client at your club, so that’s not bad for one question, right? Now, why did you turn into a prostitute?”
Kurt shifts uncomfortably in his place, pressing his lips tight and staring at Dave with disdain. “Screw you,” he grits between his teeth.
Dave shrugs, taking out yet another fifty. Kurt winces when Dave lays the bill over the others, almost like it hurt him. Dave knows he’s being a complete ass but he can’t help it. “A hundred and fifty?”
“Stop it.”
“No? How about two hundred?”
Dave’s about to put down another fifty when Kurt yells at him. “I have a lot of debts! Happy? Now stop that!”
Kurt has debts… that’s good. Well, it’s not good that he has debts, but he’s talking and it’s a start.
“A hundred and fifty per question,” Dave muses, acting cool just to conceal how guilty he feels. Dave won’t let his mind drift to unknown places; he won't dwell on how what he’s doing is humiliating and upsetting Kurt. Answers come first right now. “That’s not so bad, right?”
“You freaking bastard,” Kurt spits out, his voice full of venom.
“So you have debts,” Dave says casually, taking another a hundred and fifty bucks from his wallet and placing them in front of Kurt. Kurt looks like he’s raging. “What kind of debts?”
Kurt goes silent for several seconds and Dave is about to take out more money when Kurt speaks up: “Medical debts.”
Dave nods as his mind starts working fast. So Kurt’s not turning tricks to feed a drug habit or placate an angry pimp or something. That’s comforting as far as it goes. Kurt has asthma, but how can that have fucked up his life so much? There are millions of people with asthma and surely they don’t fall into crushing debt because of it. How sick is Kurt?
“You’re sick,” Dave states, trying to figure out how to phrase his next question and doing his best not to jump to conclusions that will make him worry to death. It’s not comforting at all to know that Kurt is sick somehow. Yet, at that statement, Kurt looks away, like he’s embarrassed. Dave places more money on the table. “What do you have?”
Kurt looks at the money like he’s afraid of it, four hundred and fifty dollars so far right in front of him and he seems to get smaller with each bill Dave lays down. Dave knows he’s being a complete douche, degrading the man he used to love just because he has the urge of being nosy. Dave hates himself, more than he usually does.
“It’s complicated,” Kurt says quietly.
Dave puts yet another hundred and fifty on the table and Kurt runs his hand over his face, exasperated and visibly nervous. “Is it because of the asthma?”
“Yes and no.”
Dave sighs. This is difficult all over again, and Kurt must be less than pleased saying all this stuff to him, even if he’s still saying too little for Dave to piece the story together. Dave’s playing with Kurt’s needs, just to fulfill his own needs; Dave’s making Kurt tell him personal things, things that Kurt would never tell him if it wasn’t for the fact that he needed the money.
He’s the biggest jerk and Dave will punish himself for that later. But he can’t stop now.
He’s about to take more money out of his wallet when Kurt snatches his arm away.
“I’ll tell you, alright? Just stop giving me money!” Kurt tells him, clearly upset.
Dave nods quietly. “Okay.”
Kurt sighs tiredly and opens his mouth, just to close it right away, as if he didn’t know where to start. Dave, in the meanwhile, tries to gather as much courage as he can, because deep down he’s sure that Kurt won’t tell him anything nice.
“I came to New York right after graduation. I was eighteen, and since I didn’t get into the school I wanted, I entered Parsons. Fashion design, you know?” Kurt says with a cold voice, obviously hating to be telling this to anyone, but Dave just listens.
Fashion design, it makes sense to Dave and it’s upsetting to know that once Kurt was on track and now he’s like this.
“I was doing well,” Kurt continues. “Incredible, I might say. But… I started falling sick. Winters in Ohio are bad, but here…” Kurt shivers and Dave frowns. “I never expected the freaking weather was going to get to me so much. During that first fall and winter I fell sick at least six or seven times; mostly flues or bronchitis. By the second year, I was diagnosed with adult on-set asthma.”
Dave nods, not daring to interrupt Kurt.
“It was a shock. I’ve always been so healthy… but it wasn’t that bad. I had school, I was getting an internship at Prada. Being constantly sick didn’t help but I tried to make it work. But then, one night...” Kurt falls silent; he clenches his jaw as if what’s he’s about to say is too difficult, and Dave almost asks Kurt not to say anything anymore but Kurt keeps talking. “I got really sick. I had… I don’t know anymore, bronchitis, bronchiolitis, something like that, and I had an asthma attack. My inhaler didn’t help and I couldn't breathe, so I rushed to the ER. I ended up intubated.”
Dave gapes. He doesn’t know much about medicine, but he’s seen TV shows like ER, House MD and Grey’s Anatomy and usually when doctors yell ‘We have to intubate!’ things are pretty bad. He hates the image of Kurt in his head as one of those patients on TV with tubes taped over their mouths.
“Shit. Because of an asthma attack?”
Kurt shrugs, looking almost defeated. “It was a mix of things, or so the doctors said. When you are under mechanical ventilation, you have to stay in the ICU, you know? And it wouldn’t have been so bad, but I caught hospital-acquired pneumonia.”
Dave only stares at Kurt, who’s not looking at him but at his lap. “You know how there are different kinds of pneumonia? Hospital-acquired pneumonias are especially hard to fight off. They’re more resistant to antibiotics. I ended up in a coma. I was in the ICU in a coma for almost three months. My family came, and I really don’t know how my dad coped with that,” Kurt says, his voice empty of all emotion and Dave’s stomach is almost strangling itself in concern.
“But …you got better.”
Kurt snorts, looking at him with a quirked brow. “Better is a very relative term. I came out of the coma and got discharged; my family went back to Ohio and… well, I tried to resume my life. But I had been absent from work for almost three months and I got fired-”
“What? You were sick,” Dave states, scandalized. After all Kurt went through! “They can’t fire you for being sick!”
“Well, they didn't fire me exactly. It was a twelve-month internship. My contract was almost over and they decided not to renew it. Instead, they gave my position to my then-boyfriend, because while I was in the hospital he was busy fucking his way up the career ladder,” Kurt tells him bitterly and Dave cannot believe that douche. “But that wasn't the worst part. Two weeks after being discharged, I was unemployed plus I had a high rent to pay and no money, and I got this… letter that said I owed a ridiculous amount of money because of my medical treatment.”
Dave shakes his head in confusion. “Didn’t you have health insurance?”
Kurt lets out an icy laugh. “Have you ever watched Michael Moore’s 'Sicko'?” Dave shakes his head no. “You should. Even with the best coverage, health insurance never pays for all the treatment, and I had nowhere near the best coverage. Do you know how much does a day in the ICU and with mechanical ventilation costs?”
Dave swallows hard. “Not really.”
“A whole freaking lot. My insurance did pay, but that didn't take care of even half the total cost. So I ended up with an outrageously huge debt.”
“How much?”
Kurt gives him a sad smile. “That I won’t tell you, no matter how much money you offer me.”
“Kurt -”
“So I was unemployed, with an expensive rent and a huge debt. I didn’t want to tell my father; he had a second heart attack, not long before I ended up in hospital. He was recovering from that and had to see his son in a coma for months.... I didn’t want to stress him even more; he still doesn’t know.”
Dave remembers how concerned Kurt was over the prospect of his father finding out he’s a hooker now. It makes Dave feel like hell that Kurt is dealing with all this by himself.
But Kurt's really close with his Dad, so how does that even work? “So what? You said you talk to him, you mentioned that he called you or something. You tell him you’re doing great?”
Kurt flinches; obviously this is a sensitive point. But then Kurt shrugs, like he doesn’t care anymore. “He thinks I’m living a fabulous life, working for Prada. That because I’m so busy, I never have time to visit him, not at Thanksgiving or Christmas, even, because I’m working on the upcoming collections or traveling to France for fashion shows or doing whatever other elaborate fiction I can make up,” he says, letting out a sad laugh.
It’s sad, because that “elaborate fiction,” that’s how Kurt’s life is supposed to be.
“Why didn’t you declare bankruptcy?” Dave inquires, because there must be other options besides whoring himself.
“I was twenty years old, David. It would have ruined me for life; how could I ever, I don’t know, apply for a credit card or buy a car or get a housing loan, or do anything with a bankruptcy on my record?”
“It’s ruining your life already!”
“It’s not forever! Eventually, I’ll pay the whole thing off,” Kurt states firmly and proudly. “That freaking bill won’t stop me, I won’t let that happen. I’m working hard to get rid of it and then I'll move on with the rest of my life.”
Dave pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself down because this is ridiculous. Kurt stares at him defiantly and it’s obvious that he’s very determined about this, but for fucks sake!
“You’re whoring yourself,” Dave states as calmly as he can. “What on earth were you thinking when you decided that was a good idea? I get that you have debts but-”
“You don’t,” Kurt cuts him off. “Look where you live, how you dress… your car… what do you know about having to squeeze the most out of every cent you have to get through the month? You probably work hard to have all this. Well, I work hard to have what I’ve got. It might not be a lot right now, but that’s how life is.”
“You’re whoring yourself,” Dave repeats and Kurt gives him an icy smile.
“You keep saying that like it bothers you, but I notice you don’t seem very reluctant each time you take me to bed. We both get something out of this situation so it's not really that bad, right?”
Dave quickly shuts his mouth because Kurt’s got him there. What can Dave say? That this is the only way he can have him? Dave won’t admit that to Kurt. The truth is Dave never felt disgusted with Kurt for being a hooker, it disgusted him that Kurt had to do such a thing. The mere idea of Kurt getting fucked by strangers every night still makes him sick, but Kurt's right - Dave's not exactly suffering from Kurt's hardship, not in that way, anyway.
“I’ve just...” Dave doesn’t know what to say. “Okay, how did you even end up in that horrible club.”
Kurt shrugs like it’s not a big deal.
“I needed money,” Kurt tells him matter-of-factly. It really disturbs Dave how Kurt freaking Hummel, the fabulous guy who used to strut around the hallways of McKinley with his superior air, chin raised, proud and strong, has come to accept this as his life. “I was only twenty, always been a daddy’s boy. I thought so little about money, I even had an apartment in Manhattan that I could hardly afford but it was trendy. But then suddenly I had to face this huge thing, all by myself. I had all this money I had to pay, and my priorities changed. I just grew up.”
Dave snorts, not believing his ears. “Grew up? You call turning into a prostitute growing up?”
Kurt glares at him. “I call taking responsibility of your acts growing up.”
“Your acts?” This guy is going to drive Dave insane. “You didn’t do anything wrong! You fell terribly sick!”
“It doesn’t matter what happened! There were still consequences and I had to deal them!”
God, Dave’s going to lose his mind, but he tries to calm down because he really wants to stop them yelling at each other. “I just…”
“I work at a strip club, so what?” Kurt asks defiantly. “I had and still have huge debts. I did what was necessary. I moved to the cheapest place I could find, got a job where they wouldn't fire me if I had to skip work when I got sick, which is way too often, by the way. It wasn’t enough, so I looked for another job and The VIP came along. Night shifts paid more, and waiting tables couldn’t be so difficult, right?”
“Waiting tables?” Dave inquires with disdain.
Kurt shrugs again. “That was all I did at first. But then lap dances meant extra money in my pocket, so why not? And then performing on stage was more money as well.”
“And fucking clients is more money as well, right?”
Kurt stares at him quietly, with no emotion in his eyes. “It’s not something that makes me proud, but yeah. I’ve found that being a whore, it’s more money, sadly.”
They both fall into an uncomfortable silence that Kurt breaks after several seconds. “Are we done or do you have more questions?” Kurt inquires and honestly, Dave doesn’t know what more to ask.
He did get some answers, the uncertainty is gone, but what changes because of it? Nothing. Kurt will keep on whoring himself until his debt is paid, and that scares Dave.
“How’s your health now?”
“Flu, bronchitis and stuff… I get sick more often than not, but I get by,” Kurt states, getting up from his chair. “I’m not sick now though.”
Dave stares up into Kurt’s flirty eyes in shock. How can Kurt do this? He just poured out all these bad things about his life and now he’s hitting on him?
Kurt straddles Dave’s lap, throwing his arms around his neck and even if Dave was far from being horny, he’s slowly getting there now because Kurt being so close always has that effect on him. Kurt’s gazing seductive and then he reduces the distance between them, running his tongue over Dave’s neck.
Dave moans.
*
This is what Kurt needs: Dave moaning under his touch.
Kurt needs to be Dave’s hooker, his good and confident whore. It is much better than being himself - the broken, ill guy who lets another guy pay him for sex in order not to feel so alone.
Kurt never wanted to let Dave - his client - into his life.
It wasn’t and still isn’t anybody else’s business, but Kurt was just forced to display all the misery of his life, to strip himself bare, to reveal all his issues and vulnerabilities.
At the same time, part of him is glad he told Dave. Now there’s nothing else to hide - except the fact that he's not actually a hooker, except for Dave - and it’s almost refreshing, in a sad way, that for the first time someone knows about all of him.
Back in Lima, his family think he’s living a big life in New York and has turned into a cold-hearted bitch who won’t even visit his parents for Christmas. They don’t know what’s really going on with him. In New York, he only has his coworkers and neighbors, and they know him as the broke kid who works a lot and gets sick all the time, unaware of the person he used to be years ago. No one knows both parts of his life; everyone sees him as two different people. But now Dave knows. Dave knows who Kurt was then and who he is now, and that he’s just one person.
It’s a relief.
But it also makes him weak, and Kurt can’t be weak or all the weight of his life will fall over him, crushing him.
So he told Dave almost everything, but he never showed any weakness. Kurt won’t let Dave pity him even more than he does already, which is why he had to stop Dave from paying him to answer questions.
So Kurt grinds Dave’s lap, focusing on his hooker persona instead of all the things he just spilled about his life.
Dave groans, gripping him hard by his hips and Kurt moans in pleasure, quickly attaching his mouth to Dave’s, kissing him hard. Yes, this is exactly what Kurt needs, and he revels in the fact that he's learned to do it well.
Dave slides his hands under Kurt’s ass and gets up from the chair, lifting Kurt in the air in the process. Kurt grins, clasping his legs around Dave’s waist, feeling hot and stupidly giddy because it’s ridiculous how much he enjoys when Dave lifts him up; Dave’s strength is incredibly arousing.
They quickly make it to the bedroom and get undressed in almost record time. Maybe Kurt’s wrong, but it feels like Dave needs to forget about their conversation just as much as he does.
Kurt is desperate for Dave to be inside him, so when Dave starts to kiss his chest and hips, Kurt squirms in pleasure, not being able to take much of this rushed foreplay.
“Dave, please,” Kurt gasps, naked and hot underneath the other man. “Just fuck me now.”
“Fuck, yes,” Dave grunts, getting the lube from his bedside table and pouring it onto his fingers.
Kurt rolls onto his hands and knees. He’s learning to love this position, because while in the past getting it from behind seemed impersonal and well, slutty, it feels fantastic when Dave fucks him this way. And to be honest, he actually enjoys being slutty for Dave.
“So fucking hot,” Kurt hears Dave whispering and Dave’s desire makes him shiver.
Dave kneels behind Kurt and starts probing his entrance.
“Oh, God!” Kurt moans in anticipation, wishing he didn’t need any preparation so he could take Dave right now.
Dave slides one and then two fingers in, moving in a circular motion, and Kurt’s neediness overrides any discomfort he might be feeling. But then Dave replaces his fingers with his tongue and Kurt sees white.
He rocks back in order to get more contact with Dave’s tongue but then it’s gone. Kurt lets out a frustrated groan, but he listens to Dave opening the condom and that gets him more worked up.
Then Dave presses his cock against his hole, pushing slowly inside and Kurt has to fight the urge to impale himself on Dave. They both moan loudly once Dave gets all the way inside him, holding Kurt’s hips to steady himself.
Dave's thrusts are painfully slow; so slow that the pleasure lingers for longer, driving Kurt almost insane; but he doesn’t complain about the steady, sturdy and slow pace that Dave’s building. Kurt doesn’t want to be in charge right now, he wants Dave to lead the way. He’s so exhausted with his own life that he's relieved to let someone else control what he's doing, even if what he's doing is a three hundred dollar fuck.
Dave’s filling him so much; the pressure is so intense that Kurt believes he could come right now, being hard as rock already and he hasn’t even touched himself yet. Dave’s moans echo in his ears, making him moan as well, every time louder, almost begging for more, faster and harder.
Finally, Dave catches on to Kurt’s needs and he starts thrusting faster.
“Oh, God, yes,” Kurt grunts, pushing himself backwards to meet Dave’s thrusts.
Dave holds him then by his shoulders, pulling Kurt deeper against him. Dave must recognize his urgency, even if Kurt’s not demanding anything out loud, because Dave starts pounding his cock harshly inside Kurt’s ass, making Kurt almost whimper in ecstasy.
Kurt feels himself drowning in a puddle of messy bliss. He focuses solely on the feeling in his ass, Dave brushing his prostate over and over, and the hardness of his own cock, that makes him let out crude, loud moans.
“Dave,” Kurt pants. “Fuck, Dave.”
Dave’s nails dig deeper into the flesh of his shoulders and the pain drives him wild. He would fist his cock right now if it wasn’t for the fact that if he removes a hand from the mattress, he’ll lose all balance.
But then, all of a sudden, Dave pulls out completely and Kurt’s about to complain when Dave grabs him by his waist and, in a quick motion, flips him over. Kurt lands on his back and Dave’s immediately pushing Kurt’s legs apart, burying himself between them until his cock is once again deep inside Kurt.
Kurt wastes no time wrapping his legs around Dave’s hips, locking his ankles tightly and pulling him as close as he can. His cock is trapped between his and Dave’s bellies, but Dave’s thrusts apply friction to his neglected cock and it’s incredible.
He feels so close to coming that he wants to cry, because Dave’s found his way to his prostate all over again, crushing it over and over. He really doesn’t want this to end just yet.
“I don’t want to come,” Kurt moans, and it sounds like a desperate cry.
Dave lies on top of him, propping onto his elbows on either side of Kurt’s head. Dave’s hot breath is right in his face as he whispers: “You’ll come when I want you to, doll.”
Kurt moans instantly at Dave’s severe tone of voice. It was low, but firm. Dave’s in charge and Kurt feels like he’s going to burn up.
“I’m going to make you come so many times tonight you won’t be able to get up for days,” Dave grunts at Kurt’s ear, his voice hoarse.
Dave’s words hit him like a slap and he squirms in pleasure; his brain is melting in lust. He mewls because, yes, he wants that. “Yes,” Kurt sobs, going insane at Dave’s words and thrusts. “Please, please do that.”
Kurt needs that; he needs to forget about everything in his life and just concentrate on this pleasure. Kurt wants Dave to make him forget about all the things they talked about and all the troubles that wait for him on the other side of Dave’s door.
Dave kisses him on his cheek, then he runs his tongue over Kurt’s jaw. Dave holds Kurt by his chin, and proceeds to kiss him hard on the mouth, sticking his tongue inside, and Kurt kisses him back eagerly.
Dave breaks the kiss, and his thrusts become slow again and steady, but Dave doesn’t pull out. Kurt has his eyes shut, trying not to go insane because the combination of Dave’s weight over him, the heat coming from his body, and Dave’s breath against his face, along with the slow and shallow thrust are pushing him to the edge.
The room falls silent and all Kurt can hear is their breathing.
And then Kurt feels it. Dave’s hand is now firmly around his neck; all Kurt’s thoughts stop immediately. Dave’s doing this again and Kurt didn’t need to ask; the joy and pleasure is overwhelming.
Dave starts pounding harder and faster, making the friction on Kurt’s trapped cock increase. He’s muttering words at Kurt’s ear, but Kurt can’t process them. All he can sense is Dave’s tight grip around his neck, blocking oxygen from reaching his brain.
It’s once again incredible. He normally fears not being able to breathe properly, but this… it’s perfect. Neither fate nor bad luck nor ill health are preventing him from breathing. Dave is controlling his air, controlling him, and it’s as comforting as it is mind-blowing.
Kurt grows even hotter as his orgasm is right there ready to explode. He starts feeling dizzy but he smiles in bliss, letting himself go, surrendering to the pleasure he’s feeling. Dave’s thrusting harder and deeper and all the sensations and feelings become too overwhelming for Kurt: his wrecked prostate, the friction on his cock, the lack of air, Dave’s tight grip around his neck, Dave’s… control.
His orgasm hits him like a train. “Dave, oh, fuck!” Kurt grits through his teeth breathlessly as he comes and his body goes rigid, every cell clenching in the boldest lust.
Kurt’s trembling when Dave releases his grip on his throat, but keeps his fingers on his chin, holding him tightly.
“Deep breaths, Kurt,” Dave commands and Kurt nods, knowing that if he starts breathing too fast, he’ll trigger an asthma attack or hyperventilate.
He takes deep, slow breaths, even if it’s hard, since he can hardly coordinate as Dave moves away from on top of him. Kurt still has his eyes shut. He can hear Dave panting, but close to him. He starts noticing the wet come on his belly growing cold, but he can’t bring himself to care.
Little by little, his body starts easing and his breath turns normal. Dave is suddenly next to him, wrapping arms around him, pushing against him until they’re chest to chest, and Kurt hugs him back weakly as Dave starts kissing him all over his chin and his abused neck. Kurt smiles at this affection.
Just like the last time, Dave seems bothered at having choked him and Kurt wishes he wasn't.
“I’ll bring you some water,” Dave mumbles, sounding guilty.
Kurt wants to say something, but he’s still a bit dazed from both the lack of air and the striking orgasm. He misses Dave’s warmth, though.
He wipes his belly with the sheet, since it’s the closest thing he can find, and sits up straight in bed right when Dave hands him the glass of water. Kurt drinks it down, while Dave disappears into the bathroom, just to come out seconds later sporting a new clean T-shirt.
Then he sits on the bed across from Kurt. “Are you okay?”
Kurt puts the empty glass of water on the bedside table and lays back on the mattress. “I’m perfect, David.”
Dave still looks troubled. “I’m sorry, I got carried away. I shouldn’t have-”
“Stop saying you’re sorry,” Kurt cuts him off. He’s content and well laid; very well laid. He doesn’t want any more drama. God knows they both have enough drama in their respective lives.
“But your asthma... you have breathing problems and-”
“Stop it!” Kurt cuts him off again, firmer this time. “It doesn’t hurt me! If you want to know, smoke makes me sick. Cold weather does to, and sometimes I’m just standing around doing nothing and still I need to get my inhaler to clear my lungs, so stop worrying about this. I like it; I’m glad you did it. It feels good. If anything, you should do it more often,” he adds in a playful tone of voice to ease the tension.
“It’s not good to abuse it,” Dave tells him, obviously knowing much more about this kink. Kurt is tempted to ask, but he doesn’t.
Kurt runs his hand over Dave’s thigh. “Whenever you feel like doing it, just know that I actually love it.”
Dave presses his lips tight, not fully convinced but definitely not as troubled as he was seconds before. “I should take a shower. Want to go first?”
Kurt snorts. “Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could move.”
Dave leans over, kissing him on his forehead. “Then rest a bit. I’ll be back in a few.”
With that, Dave gets up and heads to the bathroom, but when he’s about to reach the door, Kurt speaks up. “Did you even come?”
He realizes that he never heard or felt Dave coming. He wants to slap himself, because he’s the hooker and once again, he left Dave unsatisfied. But Dave laughs loudly, making him frown.
“Seriously? I guess you had hell of an orgasm if you didn’t even hear me moaning. I came, believe me!”
Well, that’s kind of embarrassing but Kurt really didn’t hear Dave. Apparently he was too wrapped up in his own pleasure.
When he hears the water running, Kurt lays his head on the pillow, covering himself with the blankets, and without even noticing he starts drifting into a heavy sleep.
*
Kurt is very sore when he wakes up in the morning. Dave kept his promise and made him come four times the previous night; Kurt’s cock is sore and so are his legs, and his ass. He doesn’t mind, though, because it’s a nice ache.
There’s a lot of sunlight coming through the windows and he frowns. This is not the first time he's woken up in Dave’s bed, but it usually isn't so bright. When his eyes find the alarm clock he practically jumps. Ten past eleven! He can’t hear anything but silence, and it’s obvious that Dave has gone.
Kurt scrambles out of bed and instantly starts coughing. He actually needs to stand still for a few minutes, because the coughing doesn’t seem to end, and he can feel the phlegm clogging up his throat.
He’s definitely getting sick.
Once his lungs give him a break, Kurt finds a grey cardigan hanging from Dave’s armchair and takes it just to cover himself with something. It’s lovely. In spite of being way too big for him since the cardigan ends half way down his tights, the sleeves are too long and the neck opening almost hangs loose from his shoulders, the knitting is lovely and incredibly warm, and it smells like Dave’s Hugo Boss.
Kurt closes the cardigan around him, and walks around Dave’s presumably empty apartment.
This is weird. Why didn’t Dave wake him up? Dave usually wakes him up when he gets ready for work, and they leave at the same time. It gives Kurt time to go back to his place, take a shower and kill some time until he has to go to MetFood. But Dave clearly let him sleep in.
He spots a paper bag from Starbucks on Dave’s dining table and when Kurt picks it up, he finds a note underneath, plus a bunch of bills of one hundred dollar bills. He avoids the money, but takes the note and reads:
‘Kurt: You were too worn out, I didn’t want to wake you up. Hope I won’t get you in trouble if you have to work today. I got you some breakfast; feel free to take a bath or to do anything you want. I won’t be back until six, so the house is yours. The street door opens from the inside, so you won’t need a key. Be safe, and see you soon. Dave.’
Kurt’s chest aches painfully. He peeks inside the Starbucks bag and there’s a grande coffee and two muffins. Kurt hasn't had a Starbucks grande anything in several years, because five dollars for coffee is pretty freaking outrageous when you're trying to save money. The coffee is cold, but he still takes it and pads to the kitchen to reheat it in the microwave. On the way, he coughs more and louder.
He can already feel his nose growing runny.
Yet he feels awful for things that go beyond his health. It’s uncomfortable to be in Dave’s apartment alone, without Dave. It’s uncomfortable to be comfortable in Dave’s apartment, with or without Dave, because Kurt’s certainly not hurrying to get dressed and leave.
The microwave beeps and Kurt takes his coffee, which happens to be a simple mocha. Dave doesn’t know his favorite coffee, but Kurt likes mocha and it tastes just as good as Kurt remembers.
He sits at Dave’s table, observing the empty apartment. It looks different in daylight; brighter and homey. Kurt also notices how warm he’s feeling, which surprises him since he’s wearing nothing but Dave’s cardigan. He’d never walk around nearly naked at his place. No matter how hot it is outside, that freaking apartment feels like a refrigerator all the time.
But then he hears the smooth buzzing coming from the vent and of course, Dave turned the heat up for him. Kurt can’t say he hates the warmth, but he does hate that Dave did such a thing.
Kurt continues drinking his coffee, taking the two muffins from the bag. One seems to be buttermilk blueberry and the other banana with chocolate chips.
The idea makes his stomach flip. Dave actually got up, went to Starbucks, came back with breakfast for him, and then went to work. All the trouble Dave took makes him feel uneasy.
Why is Dave pampering him so much? Maybe he feels guilty for all the things he made Kurt say last night? Kurt picks up the money, just to count it, and his hands tremble when he counts nine hundred dollars.
A hundred and fifty per question, and Kurt answered four. It’s like he keeps finding new ways to shamelessly steal money from Dave, first for sex, then for eating Dave's food, and now for just talking; at least Kurt feels that way. He quickly puts the money in the table as if it burned.
Kurt’s not a hooker per se; Dave should not be paying him anything. Kurt would do any of the things they do together for free, and that realization makes him feel disgusted. Not with Dave or the fact that he’s doing all this with Dave; he’s disgusted with himself. How the hell is he going to get out of this situation?
The money thing wounds his spirit pretty badly, but he can’t tell Dave that he’s never been a hooker. That would be admitting that he’s actually been stealing his money all this time; that they could have had random sex from the beginning but Kurt chose to let him pay.
And he’s a hooker in Dave’s eyes. If Dave wanted a date, he would surely not choose a guy who supposedly gets fucked who knows how many times every night for seventy bucks.
It’s not like Kurt wants to date Dave. It’s just that maybe if money wasn’t involved, if he wasn’t supposed to be a hooker, all this wouldn’t feel so wrong.
Despite his misgivings, Kurt decides to hang out in Dave’s apartment. It’s warm and comfortable, and he could go from here to MetFood. What’s the point of stopping by his apartment? It’s cold and depressing and Kurt hates being there most of the time. He wouldn’t ever go back to his place if it weren't for the fact that he needs somewhere to sleep.
Kurt finishes his breakfast, and starts coughing some more. He wipes his nose, which is getting really runny, and he curses his life. Hopefully he’ll make it through the day.
He takes Dave’s advice and runs a bath. He should probably go for the shower, since it makes more steam and that’s good for his lungs, but he doesn't get to have warm baths often, so why not?
But just when he’s about to step into the tub, his eyes fall on the cabinet and he remembers all the pills Dave has inside there. Kurt also realizes that the clean tees Dave keeps changing into are under the counter.
There are tears rolling down his cheeks when he steps into the warm bath.
This situation is killing him.
Here he is prowling around a nice apartment in the best part of Brooklyn like he owned it; a place that reminds him how different his life is, because this is not his apartment. This apartment belongs to his client. Kurt lives in a sketchy part of the Bronx, because he’s just the hooker.
Now Dave knows everything about his life, and that’s simply not fair, because Kurt still doesn’t know what Dave’s job is, or if he’s out or not, or why he’s so sad that he needs to take so many pills. There’s also the bulimia thing that freaks Kurt out.
It’s simply not fair. Kurt was already at a disadvantage with Dave by the mere fact of being the hooker in this relationship, but now it’s even worse, because Dave knows all about his messed up life and Kurt is defenseless.
The warm bath feels soothing and comfortable. Kurt cries harder. Being in this place, with or without Dave, is so confusing. He should run away in order to stop feeling so bad about himself, and he would leave, if it wasn’t for the fact that at the same time, he wants to stay.
He wants to stay here very much, and that just kills him.