The Bucket List: Chapter Two
Title: The Bucket List 2/?
Author: pen_traveler
Fandom: Glee
Rating: R
Disclaimer: If I owned Glee, Max Adler would be a regular by now.
Summary: In the days following On My Way, Dave and Kurt reevaluate the goals in their lives and vow to help each other achieve them. "Fancy, come on. We didn't come all the way to New York City for you to back out now. We're going to the top of the Empire State Building, whether it breaks off and we plunge to our deaths or not."
Come outside.
Kurt took a deep breath, and shifted impatiently from foot to foot. This was such a bad idea. Honestly, he wasn't even sure what he had been thinking, because yes, he was pretty sure he'd aced his physics test, but paying attention to the lesson following hadn't been easy when paired with checking eBay every ten minutes. So if there was a quiz at any point in the next several days he'd probably be screwed - well, if he wasn't a genius already. They don't let idiots into NYADA.
Eventually he had won out against the other bidder, though, because there really aren't a lot of people in the world that can out-stubborn Kurt Hummel, and waiting for the package to arrive had been tortuous. He had a pretty good idea what Burt and Finn both would have said if either one had intercepted the mail and asked Kurt about the contents of the thin white envelope, so he'd had to guard the mailbox like a half off-sale at Coach and when it had finally arrived earlier that afternoon, he had immediately departed with one destination in mind.
Which was how he ended up standing outside the Karofsky residence.
The door swung open and there stood, to Kurt's immense relief, Dave, with his phone in hand, still staring at the message on the screen like he couldn't quite believe it. And when his eyes shifted to Kurt, the look increased tenfold.
"Wh-what are you doing here," Dave asked, stepping outside and closing the door behind him. Then, as if worried that he'd appeared rude, he added, "I mean, did I know you were coming by?"
"Not unless you've developed psychic powers in the last few days," Kurt answered. He held out his hand containing the envelope. "This is for you."
And with those few words Dave's expression passed from surprised to extremely wary. He eyed Kurt's outstretched hand but didn't reach for the envelope. "What is it?"
"It's a sweater."
"Kurt."
"Well, it could be. And, let's be frank here, it's not as if you wouldn't benefit tremendously from my-"
"Kurt!"
"Just take it," Kurt finally snapped, stepping forward and forcing the envelope into Dave's hand.
Dave stared at it for a long moment, almost as though he could guess what was inside, and when he withdrew the pair of tickets he stared at them in confusion. "Kurt," he said after a moment. "What are you doing?"
Kurt sighed deeply. "You know, considering it took me three hours of Googling to discover that the Panthers are a football team and not baseball like I'd assumed, and the fact that I had to dig into my savings to pay for them because if I asked my dad to buy football tickets for anyone other than, you know, him, he'd probably burn all my clothes, you're not really reacting in a way that I think is appropriate." He crossed his arms over his chest in what he hoped what an intimidating manner and frowned. "I mean, you'll have to provide your own transportation to North Carolina, but-"
Dave raised his gaze to meet Kurt's and for the first time Kurt realized that his eyes were not brown, as he'd always thought, but a sort of hazel with specks of -
Okay, time to get off that train of thought.
"Why did you do this," Dave demanded, and just like that, suspicion settled in behind his eyes, though he continued to stare at the tickets in amazement. "Jesus Kurt, the 50 yard line? These must have cost a fucking fortune!"
Kurt shrugged, and tried to ignore the pleased blush he could feel creeping into his cheeks and down his neck. He'd always liked giving gifts and it didn't really matter that now it'd be another three months before he could afford that Marc Jacobs jacket he'd been lusting after and saving for. He could always ask for it for a graduation gift, he decided. "Not as much as you might think," he lied smoothly. "EBay."
Dave snorted. "Right." Suddenly he looked up at Kurt again and the suspicion was back. "You didn't answer my question. Why did you do this?"
"I just wanted to. Is that so bad?"
"People don't normally spend hundreds of dollars - and don't look at me like that, I know exactly how much these things cost - on people they're barely even friends with just for the hell of it. So. Try again."
Kurt pressed his lips together in a frustrated line and, though he was pretty sure he'd live to regret it in about 20 seconds, he slowly replied, "I just. You know, I felt bad about-"
SLAM!
The front door had opened and shut so quickly that Kurt barely had time to register what had happened before he was standing outside alone. He glanced down, and when he saw the envelope lying face-down on the concrete of the Karofsky's walkway, he snatched it up and banged so hard on the door that one of Dave's neighbor's stepped outside to see what all the commotion was about. He barely gave her a second look. "David," he yelled at the house. He was half-tempted to check and see if Dave had actually locked the handle, but he wasn't ready to face either of Dave's parents if they happened to be home, and he definitely wasn't ready to step inside the house where his friend had-
All of a sudden the door flew back open, and Kurt was once again face-to-face with Dave, who was looking just about as angry as he ever had in the past. "What?"
"What's wrong with you," Kurt immediately demanded. "I bought-"
"Do not say one word about those fucking tickets."
"I bought those tickets for you-"
"Because of your guilt, and Kurt, I don't know how to many different ways I can tell you to stop blaming yourself. For God's sake," Dave nearly shouted in frustration, "do you really have such a low opinion of me that you think I can't control my own actions, like you're my damn puppet master? Yes, Fancy, yes, I fucking loved you, but that doesn't mean that your silence drove me to anything!" He took a careful breath, presumably to calm himself, before continuing. "If I was that worried about it, so much so that I was going to take my own life if I didn't talk to you, I could have tried harder. I could have come to your house, showed up at McKinley, and fuck whether or not you wanted to deal with me."
Kurt didn't answer because the truth was that Dave's words made perfect sense. All his assurances, his defenses, he was right. But that still didn't tell Kurt what he was supposed to do with this acidic revulsion he felt when he thought about the many calls he had dodged from someone he had just offered friendship to. He'd needed to do something, which was how he had ended up on eBay.
"Kurt." Suddenly Dave's voice was soft and pleading, and he couldn't not look over. "I've spent a lot of my life blaming pretty much anyone but me for my fuck-ups. So please. Please. Just . . . Let me take responsibility for this one thing."
"Fine," Kurt muttered. They couldn't keep having this battle, or they'd never get very far with their friendship. "Fine. But you have to keep the tickets."
Dave looked like he wanted to argue but there was something in Kurt's eyes that made him nod. "Fine." Then a ghost of a smile graced his features. "Thanks. I don't think I've ever gotten something so cool before. Even if the reason I got them really blows." He sent Kurt a pointed look.
This was the perfect transition for the other thing Kurt wanted to talk to him about, so he grinned a little himself. "Actually, Dave, my guilt was only part of the reason."
Dave raised his eyebrows. "Part of the reason?"
"Right. See, okay. I was thinking about what you said the other day, about how if you'd . . ." He cleared his throat because the last thing he wanted was to get serious and maudlin again and just the word was tough to get out. "If you'd . . . died, then you wouldn't have been able to go to your game or whatever."
An strange expression crossed Dave's face but he didn't interrupt.
"And it got me thinking. You're seventeen-"
"Eighteen."
"Whatever. You're eighteen, and I'm willing to bet that there are more things that you want to accomplish than just watching some football game before you . . ."
"Die."
"Right. So-" Kurt paused to dig into his pocket and after a moment he withdrew a piece of loose leaf paper that he unfolded and held out for Dave to see. "Behold! My 'Bucket List.'"
"Oh dear God." Dave covered his eyes with his hand.
"Listen to me."
"I can already guess where this is going."
Kurt gave him a mock-glare, which was somewhat pointless considering Dave couldn't see him. "You're seriously trying to deny me the dramatic reveal? Shush. Anyway, what I was saying was, that I think that you and I should each create a 'Bucket List.' And I thought, you know, we could help each other cross the stuff off. Be each others' motivation. We'd have to keep them somewhat doable, but still." He shrugged. "I've got a four day weekend coming up and you're not back in school yet . . ." His voice trailed away as, for the first time since he had created this idea, it occurred to him that there was a distinct possibility that Dave might just outright refuse. He didn't owe Kurt anything, and it certainly wouldn't be the first time that someone didn't feel up to indulging him.
Dave was silent for a moment as he took in Kurt's words, then he slowly lowered his hand and offered it to the countertenor. "Okay. Let me see your list."
Kurt passed it to Dave, feeling like bursting into applause. He was excited, he realized, and not just for the young jock. He'd taken his list very seriously, adding things in, switching them out for ideas he liked better. He'd decide to cap it at the Top 10 because four days wasn't anywhere near enough time to knock out everything he wanted for himself.
Dave laughed, distracting him from this thoughts. "Really, Fancy? Really. You titled it: 'Kurt Hummel's Bucket List (That Will Undoubtedly Be Infinitely More Creative and Exciting Than David Karofsky's)'? Them's fightin' words." Then he cleared his throat and began to read. "'Number One: Go to the top of the Empire State Building.'" He looked up.
"You already have a question?"
"Didn't you just go to New York City last year," Dave asked.
"I didn't have a lot of time for sightseeing."
"Which is weird, considering you have a picture on your Facebook of you and Berry at the Gershwin Theater." He smirked when he caught Kurt's expression. "That's right. Dave Karofsky knows shit."
"Okay, I'm not even going to comment on you recognizing the Gershwin Theater. Well, except to say that you have depths no one would have guessed. As far as the Empire State Building . . ." He flushed a little. "I may have rewatched An Affair to Remember in the last couple of months."
Dave help up his hand to stop Kurt. "Okay, enough said. 'Number Two: Build a sandcastle.' You know, I actually know a thing or two about that."
Kurt smiled. "You do?"
"I'm deep, remember?"
"Right."
"'Number Three: Play a game of Poker.'" He glanced at Kurt again but this time didn't stop reading. "'Number Four: Sit through The Tenth Kingdom.' What the hell is that?"
"It's a miniseries I started watching with Finn a couple of years ago. Only the last two disks didn't work, so we never actually finished it"
"Greeeat," Dave muttered. "'Number Five: Stop taking crap from Kari from Starbucks.' I'm not even going to ask. "Number Six: Get-" His voice broke off and he looked up and over at Kurt in astonishment. "Who the fuck are you," he asked, looking torn between amusement and horror.
Kurt rolled his eyes. "It's about life experiences, David."
"Right, I'm sure 'Get high' was added for the life experience of it all. Anyway. 'Number Seven: Sing in the rain.' Okay . . . 'Number Eight: Ride a roller coaster.' Sometimes, Hummel, it really gives me a headache to just think about how sheltered you are."
"Next, please."
"'Number Nine: See a Broadway show.' Well, that sounds easy enough, since, apparently, we'll already be in New York City. And finally, 'Number Ten.'" He read it silently to himself first, and Kurt watched as his eyes softened. 'Number Ten: Change someone's life for the better.'" Without another word he spun on his heel and reached for the door handle, but Kurt's dancer reflexes caught his arm.
"Where are you doing," Kurt asked, his brow wrinkling in confusion.
Dave blinked. "Inside. Gotta get a pen."
"Now? Why?"
He grinned back at Kurt and gently nudged him with his shoulder. "Because. We can already cross off that last one."
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