Home sweet home. It feels so good to be back where I love. In the words of Simon and Garfunkel, I shamelessly say "hello darkness my old friend..."
Twenty nine point eight degrees Fahrenheit. Twenty nine point eight degrees Fahrenheit was what the thermometer read. That's the equivalent of minus one degree Celsius. Below freezing.
Kurt dived under the covers in disgust.
A low sinking pressure was felt as a warm body laid down a couple of inches away from him; the gesture was almost a spoon, if not for the distance. But even with that space, Kurt could feel the warmth radiate off it. Kurt thrust his body backwards, fitting perfectly into the mould. He lifted the side of his ribcage off the bed, inviting what he knew would be a warm arm, to cradle him. There was a hesitation of about 3 seconds before the arm slipped into the natural curve of Kurt's side and loosely held him towards his own body. Kurt let that gorgeous warmth on his back and the feathery fluffiness of the down bed covers engulf him. He was theirs to thaw out completely.
Soon Kurt's little bare feet searched for the other pair. Finding them, he pressed the bottoms of his feet to the warm tops. The other man hissed and pulled his feet back at this sudden intrusion of cold.
"Jesus, with the sounds you're making, you would think someone was bum raping you." Kurt mumbled and started absently stroking up and down the arm that was wrapped around him.
The other man let out a dry huff of laughter before he boldly returned his feet back to Kurt's, pressing his feet up firmer at the reprove. Kurt's eyes fell shut as he snuggled closer into the broad chest. The other arm came to wrap around him as he did so.
Finally the man spoke.
"Kurt. Why are you here?"
Kurt eyes fluttered open and his voice was strained when he replied. "It's cold and I thought 'who is the best person to keep me warm?' You should be flattered that I thought of you."
"So you thought you'd just come over. At 2:00 in the morning. What? Your dad doesn't believe in blankets?"
"My dad has plenty of blankets at home actually."
"So your boyfriend sucks at keeping you warm at night does he?" The response of Dave Karofsky was blunt. His emotions were shut down and his voice betrayed little.
There was a pause as Kurt shifted his legs and torso nervously, unintentionally pressing closer to Dave as his thermal t-shirt rode up his chest. "That's the problem. He sucks." "Well" Kurt amended, his voice humourless and worn "wants to."
The silence seeped in and plugged Kurt's ears; saturating them with nothingness. When Dave replied, his voice held a firm edge to it, the tone would have been aggressive if not for the hoarse whisper his said it in. "Kurt. Why are you here? Really."
Kurt fiddled with the arm that never left his body. He noted that that same arm which was before cradling him into the source of the warmth was now tight like a vice, holding him in place. It wasn't long until Kurt spoke, "You're still a bully whip, right? So it's still your job to protect me." Kurt swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut "...and right now, I'm asking you to protect me." Kurt's voice was small and broken. In all his life, Dave had never heard it so. "Please David."
Dave slowly filled his chest with air, taking as much in as the pain in his lungs would allow. His chest pressed closer to Kurt's back as he did so. He exhaled in a warm stream against Kurt's neck, keeping that previous closeness by tightening his arms around the now exposed skin of Kurt's lower back and stomach. His arms held fast, hugging Kurt in place against him. The embrace was secure and safe.
Kurt never realised how every movement which pressed him closer, how every stroke he gave to Dave's skin, pierced little pins into Dave's heart. The pain was exactly that of a slow but constant dripping of blood from those multiple holes. But what was most unbearable was that although Dave knew the inevitable draining of his heart would come, it was the slowness that caused him most torture.
"Fine" was all Dave whispered.
Kurt was faced with a wall of musky heat and for a second, he thought it was summer again. At some point during the night, he had managed to roll over and his nose now fit snugly between the pillow and the curve of Dave's neck to shoulder. It was a miracle he could still breathe, but he didn't pull away just yet. Instead, he let his thoughts wonder to Blaine and mentally chuckled at the contrast.
It is true that Kurt had always looked up to Blaine, well, figuratively speaking at least, however for Blaine as a lover his proportions just seemed...wrong. Wrong for Kurt anyway. Kurt knew that when he and Blaine would eventually have sex, Kurt would have to be the big spoon. Kurt didn't like the idea. It seemed so very cold on the outside.
At that thought, Kurt unconsciously huddled ever so closer toward Dave, a light shiver running through his nerves, even in the heat.
But Blaine was a junior after all and he was markedly smaller than Kurt, so aesthetically, the position would look unattractive if Blaine spooned Kurt- like a baby koala clinging to his mother's back. And Kurt did not want to play mother.
He let out a sigh against Dave's shoulder. This was what Kurt wanted. This was the perfect embrace. But... he'd said he'd wanted Blaine. Blaine was the natural choice. Everyone expected Kurt to be with him. It was just...
He gets lost in his head as he waited for Dave to wake up. Kurt found it strange that even when he was deep in thought, he could still pick up the precise moment when Dave's breathing changed from a heavy slumber to that of a deep wakening one. The difference in breathing was minute, yet Kurt could still tell.
Dave shifted his head so that as he woke, his cheek caressed the side of Kurt's face. Kurt gently moved his fingers which were already splayed on the other man's chest and whispered a "good morning" in Dave's ear.
Dave's breath was caught by a yawn as he murmured half a "mornin'" and offered Kurt a bashful smile while his guards were down.
The arm which was lazily resting on Kurt's hip moved up the small body to still at the back of his neck. Dave then ran the hand slowly downwards, fingers curving into the indent of Kurt's spine as his voice gravelled out "sleep well?"
Kurt moved so that he was looking at Dave when he answered, and not creating a damper damp patch where his mouth was pressed against Dave's tight black t-shirt. Dave wriggled himself backward slightly to give Kurt more breathing space. He still however, kept his arms wrapped loosely around Kurt. Their legs were also still tangled in each other's.
"Yeah. Brilliantly. Thank you David...for...you know. Everything."
Dave's features turned serious as he tried to read the emotions flitting across Kurt's face.
"So..." Dave tested "last night...you came here, here of all places, because what? You suddenly found out your boyfriend wants to sleep with you?"
Kurt pulled his eyes down and concentrated on the stitching of Dave's t-shirt; "something like that" Kurt lied.
It was true Blaine wanted to have sex with him, but the realisation didn't come in a 'Virgin Mary deluxe epiphany' package. Far from it.
Dave had continued to speak as Kurt's mind ran through the events of the evening before. "And...you're gonna talk to him about what happened?"
Confused, Kurt looked back up "why?" He stated simply. "Blaine understands that I'm not ready to sleep with someone. He's very understanding, you know. Today at school, I'm sure he'll be very apologetic." Lie.
Dave's hand stills from idly picking at Kurt's thermal top and started back, staring incredulously at him. He whips his arms out from under Kurt and rolls over, swinging his legs so that he is sitting on the edge of his bed.
"Not ready to sleep with someone! What the hell was this then?" Dave growls. His back is toward Kurt and he never looked around.
"It's different. He's my boyfriend. You can't just sleep with your boyfriend and not do anything." Kurt was certain he was right. Why lead a guy on by letting him sleep in your bed and he doesn't even get a hand job for all his efforts. It was different if the guy was Dave though. Kurt thought he and Dave were in the same boat: both not ready for gay sex. Jesus, Dave hadn't even come out yet, how could he be ready? These sets of assumed beliefs suited Kurt just fine.
"Why not? I don't see the big issue with just sleepingwith someone, seeing as you had just slept with me?" Dave pressed, his voice straining to remain low.
Kurt looked taken aback and tried to find some words that would make sense; words that would make Dave see.
"It's different..." was all he could think of.
Dave gets up, his old black t-shirt has rolled up during the night so it didn't quite reach the hem of Dave's smoky grey boxers; leaving a stark band of tan flesh for Kurt's eyes to be drawn to.
"I don't ever want to be in this position again Hummel. It's not that I care you've used me, but what bites the most is that I knew from the moment you called, you were using me. And I let you. I will always let you. So in future don't. Don't come to me to get away from Blaine, because you're only going to run back to him. And I hate the way you make me feel for being so weak."
He walked over to the radiator and grabbed the towel there. Kurt's eyes were wide as he tried to form a coherent sentence. Dave's back was turned against Kurt as he muttered "I'm going to take a shower. By the time I get out, my dad's usually left for work. The place is all yours after that. I'll get you a clean towel and once you're ready, I'll drive you to school."
"No, really, I'll be-"
Dave cut Kurt off and looked earnestly into his eyes. "This is me protecting you Hummel. Let me at least have that." He walked out of the door; ignoring the sentence Kurt was halfway through spluttering.
Kurt sat up in the bed and for a while, he was just staring at the empty doorway, eyes wide and mouth parted. He tried to make sense of what just happened.
He didn't mean to make Dave feel like that. That was not what he'd done, Kurt thought. He didn't see it like that: didn't want to see it like that.
Images of a grinning Kurt gripping a voodoo doll, flashed through his mind. Kurt one by one sticking pins into a rag figure sporting a letterman. All the pins were centred at one point in the doll's chest. Kurt the sadist, he thought.
Kurt pressed his fingernails deep into his palm until that pain was all he could feel, all he could think of. He concentrated on it; focused all his mind on that one sharp stab. That way this new, less emotionally hurtful pain might wash out the pain roaring in his heart. Physical pain he could deal with.
He choked back a tearless sob as the metallic click of the front door echoed through the room.
Quickly, Kurt scrambled out of the sheets and dived to the floor, trying to wrench on his jeans as he peered under the bed to find his shoes. Through a gap in the curtains, he could make out a light snowfall delicately whiting the air and melting to invisibility as it hit the ground. He stopped in his rush to walk to the window and just gape at the deadly beauty of the scene in front. It made him unbelievably sad to witness something as innocent as a snowdrop, float merrily downwards towards its death. So silent, so peaceful. Not even putting up a fight as the inevitable doom grew closer as they reach the muddy waters of the earth.
Kurt turned back to the room and left the lemmings to fall. On the wheelie chair he spied a thick maroon hoodie draped over the back. He inhaled the feelings of warmth and safety.
Kurt splashed his way toward his truck and yanked it into first gear. Now all he had to do was convince Dad and Carol he had just stepped out this morning to warm the engine up.
Hopefully Blaine would have snuck back out of the house by now. And Dave? Kurt left him in the shower.
I will probably continue and make a little fic out of this, but I don't know, it's only if people like it. Please tell me.