The Night Is Long and I Have Far To Go [5/?]
Title: The Night Is Long and I Have Far To Go
Genre: Suspense, Mystery, Drama, Romance
Overall story rating: NC-17
Current chapter rating: R
Spoilers: None. This story is AU.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. You probably already knew that.
Summary: A premonition of disaster has Kurt desperately searching NYC for his ex-boyfriend Dave before it's too late. But madness rules the night and Kurt quickly finds himself mired in a series of bizarre encounters with mildly out-of-character, wildly out-of-context Gleeks. Featurs all the Glee characters.
Chapter 1: The Witching Hour
Chapter 2: Of Sweat and Premonitions
Chapter 3: The Many Kinks of Jacob ben-Israel
Chapter 4: Taxi to the Dark Side
Chapter 5: Kiss, Kiss, Bang, Bang
"God, I need a drink!" Kurt muttered. Yes, he'd get something to drink and take a few minutes to figure out what to do. Maybe he should go to Dave's office... at least he knew Dave would show up there eventually. He finally regained his feet and headed towards Second Avenue. New York truly is the city that never sleeps, and Kurt made a beeline for the nearest bodega.
"Do you stock Naked?" he asked the cashier without really looking at him.
"Are you talking about the juice or is that a proposition?" the cashier shot back with a wink.
Now Kurt looked at him. Round face, balding but thankfully no heinous comb-over. Glasses. Late-50s, maybe? The cashier was leaning forward on the counter, trying way too hard to look casual yet seductive, and failing miserably at both.
Kurt gave him a withering look. "Just the juice, thanks. I'm not interested in how you spend your spare time." Normally, Kurt wouldn't be this rude to a complete stranger. But he was tired and worried and vexed. The very last thing he needed was a flirtatious gay cougar with really bad fashion sense. A pale orange shirt with a neon yellow scarf, really?
"Oooh," the man crooned, "I like 'em feisty!" He licked his lips.
Ugh! Another one who got off on Kurt's bitchy side. "Look, Mister - "
"Sandy. But my lovers call me the Pink Dagger." Sandy threw Kurt a skeevy grin.
Kurt dialed down the bitch face from level 7 to level 5, so as not to encourage the older man, and said dismissively, "I'll pretend I didn't hear that. How about AriZona diet green tea?"
"You seem stressed, ...uh ..." When, after several silent seconds of awkwardness, it became clear Kurt had no intention of offering his name, Sandy continued, bloodied but unbowed. "There's a cot in the stock room. Why don't you come back there and let the Pink Dagger work his magic. I've developed the Ryerson Relaxer massage, an erotic blend of Shiatsu and Swedish techniques, combined with my own finely honed instinct for pleasure, that uses essential oils to enhance - "
Kurt's bitch face shot to level 10. "Look, Sandy, I'm sorry to be so blunt, but I'm having a really rough night and I just don't have the patience to let you down gently. So here's the 411 - I have zero interest in you. I've known lawn furniture I was more attracted to." Sandy seemed to sag and grow older. Kurt immediately felt a pang of remorse. "Sorry, that was uncalled for. Honestly, Sandy, the way I feel now, I'd probably turn down Daniel Craig in an Armani tux." Kurt gave him a pleading look. "I just want my juice."
"Aisle 3," Sandy mumbled, trying to sound bored rather than deflated. "And just so you know," the disappointed cashier called after him as Kurt headed for the aisle, "I have a boyfriend. And he's much better looking than you."
Kurt rolled his eyes. Highly unlikely, he thought, on both counts. Kurt knew he was beautiful, even gorgeous, according to producers and modeling agents. And these were people in a position to know, right? It didn't make him stuck up... well, not too much. But being handsome gave him certain advantages in the urban jungle. Mostly, he was never desperate. When Kurt went looking for sex, he could afford to have pretty high standards. When he went looking for love, it was romance on his own terms or not at all. That was Dave's fault, really. After things didn't work out with him, Kurt vowed never to open himself up to that kind of hurt again. So now Kurt decided early on exactly what he wanted from a man - friendship, sex, or romance. He picked one category and stuck to the appropriate script, and if the men wanted to be part of Kurt's life, they did too. End of discussion. Of course, such connections were doomed to failure, since, paradoxical as he knew it was, Kurt couldn't help but have contempt for the men who agreed to his terms.
A tall, very pretty blonde with a long, aquiline nose was standing in front of the pet supplies section, earnestly contemplating two cans of cat food. She turned to him as he passed by, looking very concerned.
"Excuse me," she started, "can you tell me - " Suddenly she gasped. "Oh my God! Vaughn Emerson! What are you doing here?"
Tired and thirsty though he was, Kurt couldn't help smiling. This happened once in a while, fans of Secret Passions recognizing him. It was flattering, particularly at 1:45 in the morning, when he'd barely slept, wasn't wearing any make-up and his hair was a mess, three states of being that were very out of character for his vain alter-ego.
"I'm so glad you like the show," Kurt said, sliding smoothly into gracious-actor mode and offering his hand to his adoring public of one.
"Is August here?" She looked around expectantly. "Are you guys going to Club Wilde for opening night? I didn't think August would be into that kind of thing."
Kurt was taken aback. Fans who didn't know his name called him Vaughn all the time, but this woman seemed to think he actually was Vaughn, that Vaughn was real.
"No," he began, "I... my name is Kurt Hummel. Vaughn is my character on - "
"It's okay," she dropped her voice and leaned in conspiratorially. "You guys don't want the publicity, I understand. So," she raised her voice deliberately louder than necessary, "... um... Kurt, do you know anything about cat allergies? My vet says Lord Tubbington is allergic the Fancy Feast Salmon Delight I bought at Safeway. But if I buy it from some other place that should be okay, right?"
Before Kurt could answer, they were both startled by shouting at the front of the store.
"Hey, you two! Wanna take your disgusting display of hetero lust elsewhere? I've got a delicate stomach!"
Looking up, Kurt saw a muscular man with a mohawk and a tall, heavy-set woman with dark hair groping each other in the store doorway. They were wearing matching black Hell's Angels bomber jackets, which could be souvenirs, but somehow Kurt didn't think so. The woman had shoved the man against the door jam roughly and was attacking his lips. He groaned loudly when she moved her hand down his bare chest and began slowly palming his cock through his skin-tight black jeans. He brought his hands up, one gripping the back of her head to harden the kiss, while the other plucked and pinched the nipples of her ample breasts through her white T-shirt. In response, the woman began to grind against him.
Kurt decided he'd buy his juice elsewhere, and started towards the door, intending to politely ask to pass by. Real Hell's Angels or not, this didn't look like a couple that responded well to being ordered around. Unfortunately for Kurt, Sandy didn't realize that.
"Hell-ooo! I'm not kidding, Troglodyte One and Troglodyte Two," the cashier taunted, moving from behind the counter to confront the couple. "Come in and buy something or leave, but don't stand there playing horny-horny hippos. This is a bodega, not a brothel. Judging by the size of your girlfriend, there must be something in here she'll eat."
Without even breaking the kiss, the man opened his eyes, reached behind him, pulled out a handgun and pointed it steadily at Sandy. Kurt wisely stopped moving.
"Just a minute, baby," the man murmured as he gently disengaged. The large woman readjusted her black-rimmed glasses, crossed her arms in annoyance and pouted. "Dude, that was totally rude. I was just gonna rob your store, but now I'm gonna kick your ass first."
"No no, babe," the woman said confidently, patting his well-developed bicep. She had a surprisingly sweet, soft voice. "You know Mama can take care of herself." She turned on Sandy with a cruel smile. The cashier blanched and the woman looked disappointed. "That? Seriously, Puck, you were gonna waste your energy on that?" She gestured to Kurt, who was standing just beyond Sandy, in front of the dairy display. "I'll bet even Powder Puff over there could take him."
"Whatever. I'm bored. Let's get the cash and split." The man - Puck - spotted the cat lady trying to move towards the back of the store. "Hey, Blondie! Come join the party. Don't worry, ladies," he soothed as she and Kurt exchanged worried glances, "no one wants to hurt you. Now down on the floor, arms out in front."
Kurt made a face but complied. As little as dirt and sticky grime went with his outfit, the bullet wound look would be so much harder to rock. The pretty blonde lay down next to him, sobbing softly, still clutching the Fancy Feast can. Kurt turned his face to her.
"Hey," he said quietly, "it's going to be okay. What's your name?"
"Brittany."
"It's going to be okay, Brittany. We just have to stay calm and do what they say and not make them angry."
Brittany nodded slightly and got her sniffles under control."Yes, Vaughn." Kurt felt a strong surge of protectiveness towards this strange, child-like woman who seemed so trusting and so vulnerable.
"Babe, get the money from the cash register," Puck called to the woman.
"Open up, Mop and Glow," the woman growled, pushing Sandy behind the counter.
"You two, put your wallets and cell phones in front of you. Slowly!"
Kurt started to pull the items from his pants pockets, but Brittany began crying again. "Please," she wailed pitifully, "I had to beg Santana for months to let me buy the model with the GPS app so I wouldn't keep getting lost in the Virgin Mega-Store. She'll be so mad at me if something happens to it." Kurt felt emboldened when Puck seemed to waiver.
"Can I keep my phone, too?" he asked cautiously, throwing his wallet towards the biker but holding on to his Nokia. "I'm trying to find a friend of mine and without the phone - "
Puck glanced towards his girlfriend, who was glowering while Sandy stuffed money into an eco-friendly reusable nylon bag. "Sorry, dudes," he said lowly as he scooped up Kurt and Brittany's things. "My lady will have my cojones for breakfast if she thinks I'm not bad-ass enough. I feel for you, I really do. But I had to get all Thunderdome with guys named Bonesaw and Gutcrusher just for the chance to date her, so I can't risk - "
He was interrupted by the biker woman's indignant, wrathful shout. "Whaddaya mean you're out of mallomars? Puck!" she roared, "This bodega sucks! No Cadbury eggs, no mallomars. Just stale gummy worms and fucking Hersheys as far as the eye can see." Kurt saw her turn to Puck, and saw Sandy fumble for something behind the register.
"Lauren, baby," Puck began, and then gasped. "LOOK OUT!"
She swung around just as Sandy brought up the baseball bat. Grabbing him by his shirt front, Lauren heaved him bodily over the counter and threw him, bat and all, crashing into the diary shelves. Eggs, milk and yoghurt rained down on Kurt and Brittany.
"Ohh, the poor baby chickens!" Brittany cried as Kurt pulled her to her feet and dodged around Puck.
Sandy struggled out of the shelving wreckage and took a martial arts fighter's stance. "You wanna dance with the Pink Dagger, straight boy?" Sandy snarled.
But Puck just shook his head and laughed. "Dude, you are so gonna wish I had shot you," he said, sticking his gun into his belt and folding his arms. Lauren rolled up her bomber jacket sleeves and shouldered past Kurt and Brittany, sneering and cracking her knuckles loudly. "So fucking hot!" Puck groaned as she advanced on the defiant cashier.
"Sandy!" Kurt cried, turning back but still holding Brittany's hands.
"It's all right. I'm a black belt in mongoose jujitsu," Sandy yelled, waving him away.
Kurt tugged Brittany towards the door.
"Wait!" With a dancer's grace, Brittany bent smoothly and scooped up the can of Fancy Feast. She flashed him a triumphant smile. "Mustn't disappoint Lord Tubbington."
Kurt gaped at her for an instant."Now that your cat is squared away, can we please run for our lives?" he snapped. Brittany nodded. "Good. Let's go!"
Sticky and dripping with goo, they stumbled outside together while all Hell broke loose behind them.
Chapter 6: Who Shot JFK?
Chapter 7: Lord Tubbington Holds Court
Chapter 8: The Ghost of Christmas Past
Chapter 9: ...and Here's How it Ended