A/N: This came out of nowhere! Just a short ficlet inspired by/written for the Kurtofskyfest Mini Week Day 2 Challenge: Ice. In the spirit of the 'fest, I thought I'd share.
On the Rocks
"Ugh, I need a Scotch," he moans, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he leans both elbows on the bar, "better make it a double."
"Ice?" asks the bartender distractedly, back still to his customer as he a reaches a well-defined arm up towards a slim, stacked shelf for a suitable glass.
"Please," he answers as the bartender turns towards him, bringing an all too familiar face into full view. His breath catches in his throat. "David?"
"Kurt," he says simply, a slow smile of surprise spreading across his lips as he begins to pour from a dark, curved bottle, "Never pegged you for a hard liquor in the afternoon kinda guy."
"Me neither," he rolls his eyes and finds himself returning the smile, palming the glass gratefully when Dave hands it to him, his cheeks beginning to burn with embarrassment. Of all the bars in all the cities – of all the horrible, humiliating situations in which to encounter anyone he knows, let alone the guy who had been his one-time nemesis, his first kiss and his biggest regret – David Karofsky just has to be working in this one. Kurt takes a quick sip of his drink, enjoying the warm tingle of the amber liquid sliding down his throat before adding, "but needs must."
"That bad, huh?" Dave asks with practiced ease, leaning back against the counter behind him.
"You do not want to know," he says, throwing a quick look back over his shoulder before shaking his head sadly. "What are you doing here, anyway?"
"Getting paid," David says, prompting Kurt to look back up at him with a sardonic smile.
"And here I thought you just liked serving drinks to strangers."
"You're not exactly a stranger," Dave replies, the threat of a cheeky smirk playing on his lips.
Though not exactly a friend, Kurt thinks, a little sadly, but settles for a short nod and a quick utterance of "True," before brushing it off and asking, "Though what I meant was what are you doing here in the city? I thought you were still in Ohio."
"Been out here about a month now, doing my post grad at NYU," he says and shifts, crossing toned, tanned arms in front of his broad chest – Kurt can't help but note that the last few years have clearly been kind to him – before asking, "How about you? What are you doing here?"
"Same. Studying, working a little on the side," Kurt answers, taking another warming sip of his drink.
"No, I meant what are you doing here, in this bar, on a Sunday afternoon?" Dave queries playfully, a definite smirk on his lips this time.
Kurt smiles back and replies with an affected casual tone, "Oh, y'know, just having the most horrendous date of my entire life."
Dave's brows knit and his smile fades, "You're on a date?"
"Yeah," Kurt nods and turns his head again, pointing none too discreetly towards a couple on the other side of the room, "see that guy over there, the one with the dark hair?"
"The one with his tongue in the blonde guys mouth?"
"That's the one," Kurt sing songs and nods his head slowly for effect, "Quite a catch, huh? And blondie was, until about five minutes ago, said dates ex boyfriend, who we just happened to bump into at lunch."
"Ouch," Dave winces as he cranes his neck for a better look. "That's pretty low. There must be something seriously wrong with the guy."
"I think there's something seriously wrong with me," Kurt attempts to laugh at his own misfortune but it falls flat as his eyes meet Dave's.
"The only thing that's wrong with you is that you have terrible taste in men."
"Clearly," Kurt states, eyes wide and pensive, smile gone."But at first impression, they're always so nice."
"First impressions are over-rated," Dave says pointedly, smile not quite reaching his hazel eyes.
"You think so?"
He nods in response, slow and emphatic, before his attention is drawn to another approaching customer. He stands upright and unfolds his arms.
"Someone else'll be out to get you in just a second," Dave tells the bearded guy a few barstools down before sighing and yelling "Connor!" at full volume.
"Please, don't let my romantic woes keep you from your work," Kurt tells him, starting to feel a strange mix of shame and guilt and something else in his gut as he peers down into his glass.
"My shift finished five minutes ago," Dave answers with a shrug, shifting to let the scowling guy who must be Connor pass, but otherwise staying put.
"Oh, well..." Kurt starts to say, sounding a little more disappointed than he intended to.
"But I think I'll stick around here for a little while anyway."
"Oh yeah?"
Dave shrugs again, broad shoulders rising and falling as he leans back, refolding his arms in front of him which, Kurt notices, this time, causes his bicep to flex and the snug fabric of his short shirtsleeve to bulge ever so slightly, "Nothing better to do."
"No one waiting for you at home?" Kurt asks before he can think better of it.
"No," Dave replies with a little shake of his head and an endearingly shy smile.
"I'm glad," Kurt says.
"Oh, you are?" Dave licks his lips, cheeks growing pink, belying his cool exterior.
"I mean...I meant I'm glad that you're sticking around."
"Yeah?"
"Yes," Kurt nods again and smiles, deliberately wide.
"Why's that?"
He leans forward a little in his seat, hand on his glass as he swirls the liquid around inside it. He's feeling better for all of five minutes in Dave's company, bolder too, and maybe it's just the burgeoning effect of the whiskey, but there's a promise in Dave's eyes that he's seen before, an unspoken offer in his words that he wants, this time, to explore. He bites on his bottom lip, purposely coquettish, before speaking, "Because I was enjoying our conversation. It was just getting interesting."
"You think?"
"I do," he says softly, smiling again as he raises his near-empty glass, looking Dave in the eye as he adds, "Besides, your work here isn't over."
"It isn't?" Dave asks and moves forward, leaning his hands on the bar as he smiles quizzically. "Why not?"
Kurt tilts the glass from side to side in the air between them, "I'm still waiting for that ice."