For louise in the kurtofsky winterfest fic exchange.
Prompt: [wanted] d/s (light or heavy), angst, futurefic, sexuallyaggressive!Kurt/top!Kurt.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Character Death, Mortality Issues, elder care, medical (non-kink), mild D/s themes, spanking, bottom!Dave.
His back was straight, his smile was bright, but his eyes were worn. The tiny spider lines spread with each shifting expression. Each kiss was a promise and today was full of promises. In his hand was a diploma, proof of completing the last step of adulthood. He finally made it, out of Ohio and into New York with a law degree and a job waiting for him. Those lines deepened when his lover left him. They deepened again when he had to abandon his job to return home.
He looked wrong in Lima. He had grown out of it and seemed brighter and better against the dingy backdrop of Ohio. He hadn't called Kurt's phone, no matter how many times the boy had pressed it into his hand after the hospital stay senior year. He was fine without imposing anymore on Kurt's life. Except here he was again, with a broken transmission staring at an grayed and hunched elder Hummel.
"David, how's your dad?"
"The surgery went well. He has to be on a colostomy bag, but they say he should be walking again soon." Dave's line is well practiced. Everyone wanted to know the same thing.
"It's good you're with him. I bet it's a comfort." Burt smiled kindly and Dave couldn't help himself.
"How's Kurt?"
"Same as ever, climbing up and up in his career. He just launched a new line of clothing. Here…" Burt produced a bright blue card from his pocket. It smudged with the grease on his hand. "That's his new place website."
"So he broke off on his own? Amazing."
"That's my boy. When you get back to New York you should call him up. You father used to say you were the brightest lawyer of your generation. My boy could use someone with a solid head on their shoulders."
"Sure thing, Mr. Hummel." Dave humored the proud old man and wondered if that was how his dad sounded when he talked to people.
~~
It was a bad day. The bag had ripped, Paul had tried to bathe alone and Dave had witnessed his once proud father cry like a child. He called Tina, a friendship that had developed over adult diapers being in the same aisle as feminine products. She hugged him tight.
"Puck doesn't mind?" Dave was always worried over any strain his friendship might put on the couple.
"Puck doesn't get a choice." Tina snorted at the comment. "Now go. Get out of here and just be. I'd suggest Scandals, but I know you're not much one for crowds…"
"Damn, I haven't been to there in an age." Dave hugged her and went over the care instructions for his dad one last time.
~~
Scandals was like a worn T-shirt. It was comfortable and slipped on without an awkward moment. The bartender still greeted him as 'bearcub' and the regulars gathered close to him with easy smiles. Dave found himself on the dance floor moving to the music with man after man pressed to him. It was a rush.
Dave saw a few people from the town, The Berrys were there socializing. They motioned him closer. It was September so of course the two were organizing this years' Christmas carolling early. The Berrys were jewish, but they took any excuse to sing. He noticed Hiram's slouch had gotten worse and he was now on a cane.
"You really should join us, David. You used to be so cute when you sang with us." Hiram recalled Dave's 6 year old self.
"I don't think I can hit those notes anymore, Mr. Berry."
"I'm sure you make much deeper, resonant even." Leroy squeezed his arm. "It's also a great way to find a man. It's how I met my Hiram."
The love that glowed between the couple possessed Dave with a temporary madness. "If dad is better I would love to."
~~~~
Dad wasn't any better off, but the rehearsals became a welcome break. Rachel came over to help with his father. Dave hovered warily, but as she chattered his father seemed to calm. Apparently Rachel could talk without a participating audience. Dave stopped every time by the door before heading out for the two hour rehearsal and luncheon.
"Are you sure you have the time?"
"I am between gigs, David. And I know those carols backward, forward and sideways. I've been performing them to great acclaim since I was 2." Rachel shooed him on.
Singing was sort of freeing. They sang the classics with random people from the town. In High School he would have never thought they would come together, but now as an adult it seemed natural. Puck and Tina both came out, being two of the few glee clubbers to stick in Lima. Mr. Shu was singing alongside his wife, Emma. The Southern Baptist gospel Choir came down rounding out the caroling group. They would split into four groups to cover the whole town and meet back in the town square for the final performance and tree lighting.
The last rehearsal came too fast. The group gained a few last minute revelors. Including a face he had hoped he wouldn't see. Dave's phone was heavy in his pocket, remembering all of the times he hadn't called. The man was still beautiful, still smiling in the way that could light up the world. His fashion sense was just as flamboyant and he walked like a man who knew his place in the world. Dave couldn't help but smile when their eyes met.
They sang, listened to the instructions and gained their maps of the neighborhoods. Fate did not set them in the same group and the former glee clubbers swarmed Kurt with chattering and hugs. Dave watched for a moment before turning away. He had to get back to Dad anyway. Too bad.
~~~
Dave was set to perform when it hit. It was about 15 minutes before he had to leave. Burt Hummel was there with his step-son, Finn. They were going to take Paul out for the tree lighting to watch him sing. Dave heard his father's frantic yell and found his proud father suffering under the acids from his stomach. The seal on his bag had popped off.
A frantic hour later Paul was asleep with his scalded stomach wrapped in bandage and a new bag on. Dave was at the table beside him researching what could have caused the blowout. His findings painted a bleak future. Diet change would eliminate some of the problem, but that would take a week to process through his father's system. Stronger bags would only delay blowouts. It looked like he was going to have to release the gases every few hours, including at night.
The next morning, after waking up every two hours, he realized that it was Christmas eve and he'd never got a chance to sing. It was stupid, really. He never sang too much when he was younger. He'd never made it part of his adult life. Yet, that one event had been his only time to simply be himself. He cried into the eggs he made.
Christmas day found him alone. He didn't have the energy to set up for the holiday. Dave's mother had usually decked out the house, but since she left neither he or his dad bothered. There were no presents or lights or bells. Paul spent most of the day in his chair, staring at the space that used to house their Christmas tree.
Dave worked around his dad. A Christmas story played on repeat on the living room television until the NBA game came on. Dave let the sound of squeaking sneakers and overly dramatic announcers fill the emptiness.
Dave's phone had been abandoned somewhere in his clothing the day before. No one was going to call anyway. And he had no one to call. No boyfriend, no roommate, no real friends. He had a few guys who would drink with him, but none he could call to take away from their family for a casual call.
The meal was simple, a little white meat turkey, and mashed potatoes from a pre-made carton. They had to stay away from vegetables because of his father's diet. They ate watching the game and Dave managed to keep it together. Barely.
It went on like this. The new diet did not hold up. A bag burst again and the freshly healed skin was once again abraded. When Dave finally charged his phone it chirped with two texts. One was from Tina and Puck, a cherry Merry Christmas. The other was from Kurt.
Dave stared at the notification and left it on his bedside table. He walked by it five times that day as he tended to his father and cleaned the house. He collapsed into bed at midnight and stared at the message finally. Merry Christmas, if you need someone to talk to my offer still stands.
He held the offer in his heart for the next few days. There were no breaks in his days. It seemed appropriate, there were no breaks for his suffering father either, so why should he get one. Tina didn't seem to agree.
"Dave, it's New Years eve. You haven't left other than for groceries since before Christmas. You need to take some personal sanity time."
"I'm fine. Dad needs me."
"Your dad will be fine for one evening. You should be out for the New Years. You're still young."
"I'm 31. Hardly a young man." Dave groused.
"Out. Scandals holds a big party every New Year. Go and dance with someone and get a New Years kiss."
Dave drove, it too a half hour to get to Scandals. He waited in his car, watching the men go into the brightly lit bar. It was like a beacon of acceptance and joy in the shabby little town. Tina was right. He just needed some time. But if dad needed something…
Dave pet his thumb over the face of his phone. Would he be able to hear the phone if he was inside? What if his dad had another incident. What if he never got better? He'd already handed over most of his work to his business partner. If this kept up he would have to take a permanent leave, sell his little house, move in with his dad and try to live off his savings. Or he could try to move dad to New York. Find someone to look after him during the daytime and Dave would be there on weekends and evenings.
The phone dropped and he realized his hand was shaking. He would live there, with no friends to come give him breaks and a father who seemed only to be getting worse. But he didn't want to leave his dad. Who would be there for him? Dave was an only child. There was no one else.
He opened the door of his car so he could get more room to grope around in the car for where the damned phone got to. He needed to get back. There wasn't a point of doing anything tonight and Tina probably wanted to be with her husband. Kissing some random because of a holiday didn't seem more important than a happy and stable marriage.
The phone finally made it into his hand. In the tumble it had opened up onto the text from Kurt. He pressed call. He hadn't a hope that Kurt would actually pick up.
"Hello?" Kurt's voice is surrounded by music, talking, a party it seems like. Fuck, he had called Kurt during his night out. He was probably with a boyfriend. He knew Kurt was single from the town gossip, but Dave could never see the man staying that way long. "Hello? It's noisy in here, speak up, please!"
"Kurt… It's Dave."
"Oh! Hey, gimme a second." There was shuffling and suddenly the noise faded. "Okay, outside now. You know I never thought you'd actually call me."
"I can see you." Sure enough Kurt was across the parking lot standing beside the front entrance.
"Have to admit that sounds a little stalkerish."
"No… I mean… I came to Scandals. I can see you from the car." He watched Kurt turn around and search for him. Their eyes locked across the lot. The man waved and went up on his toes. Some things never change.
Kurt popped right into the passenger side and reached over to pat Dave's arm. It was casual, like they were longtime friends. Dave didn't know if he could handle figuring Kurt out on top of everything else.
"So, do you plan to join the celebration or be a car-flower all night?"
"Tina sent me here. I just suddenly didn't feel like partying. I feel like I should be home. Dad needs me."
"Someone is with him right?"
"Yeah."
"Then relax. You'll make yourself go crazy if you try to be there every minute. After Dad's heart attack I took care of him and went to school. I know how guilty it feels to leave your dad for a second."
"Exactly. What if he needs me? What if he is rushed to the hospital? What…" Kurt's hand presses over Dave's lips gently.
"Then they will call. You just need to find some fun. Come dance. You still owe me one."
"From Prom? You're playing dirty now. That was over 15 years ago. Fine, as long as it's not Dancing Queen…"
Kurt shot him a smirk of pure evil as they made their way into the bar.
Dave downed a beer before Kurt managed to get him out on the dance floor. Once there, he found himself pressed tight with the, still lean, center of his high school fantasies. They danced ridiculously to the fast songs with flailing arms and little jumps. A slower one found Kurt's arm around his neck, their bodies fell into a swaying tempo.
How many drinks had Kurt had? Dave couldn't find any other reason that the fashionista would be placing his lips right beside Dave's ear.
"Want to have a little more fun?"
"What?" Dave gasped out as Kurt's hips rolled toward him.
"There's a motel within walking distance. We could go, blow-off some steam. Have a special sort of New Years kiss." Kurt Hummel was purring dirty suggestions in his ear. Talk about a dream come true.
"Sounds like heaven."
The motel was the least run-down he had ever seen. Dave expected some roach infested place with peeling wallpaper and stained sheets. No everything was freshly tended to and even the attendant, a young man with more tattoos than skin, had been pleasant.
"A motel next to the only gay bar in the county, no wonder they do so well." Dave pulled open the drawer beside the bed and smirked. Inside was not the standard Gideon's bible, but a pamphlet of safe gay sex and a stack of condoms. "Wow."
"Best motel in the world." Kurt shot a grin over his shoulder at Dave as his second layer of undershirt slid off.
Dave gulped at the pale freckled skin. This was happening. He was about to have sex with Kurt Hummel. He fumbled at his shirt buttons, barely managing to get them undone enough to tug over his head.
"Top, bottom, interglut, or oral only?" Kurt was wiggling his butt and pulling something out of a bag Dave hadn't noticed he brought in. A bottle of water-based lube was tossed on the bed as casual as could be.
"You're prepared." The question of how often Kurt took one-night stands pushed through his lust-hazed mind. It didn't matter. He wasn't here to judge Kurt, not since a visceral escape was exactly what he needed. "Bottom usually, but I'm versatile."
"I haven't had a bear bottom is a while." Kurt licked his lips and looked over Dave's body. "You should get out of those pants and let me see what we're working with."
Dave obeyed, there was little he could do to slow Kurt down. He knew that look from their school days. Determination always defined Kurt and it was all directed at his revealed body. Dave resisted wrapping an arm around his stomach to hide the solid gut he'd developed from years behind a desk. Time had not been as gentle to him as it had for Kurt.
Kurt looked like a sculpted God. All of the baby fat had fallen away in favor of sharp angles of his cheeks and chin. Instead of an impish child Kurt looked like a regal Fae of the Seelie Court. His six-pack was carved and his limbs, while thin, were defined with muscles that came from regular fitness. Dave could see the man in a kickboxing class or Yoga. He made a promise with himself to get back to the gym soon. Kurt's mouth broke those thoughts.
It started at Dave's neck, placing teasing licks and sucking kisses down his tendon. That mouth found it's way to Dave's collarbone to place a mark on his collarbone. The teeth were a welcome sting. Dave's cock had lowered by the cold walk to the motel and Kurt's mouth was getting it reved right back into the game.
Dave found Kurt's waists and circled all but a sliver of belly with his two hands. Kurt was small enough to lift and toss onto the bed. Dave always had a thing for smaller men. He blamed Kurt, first crushes leave a hell of an impression. Huge arms tensed and hefted Kurt from the piece of carpet he stood on, through the air, and under Dave's body on the bed. He'd assume Kurt enjoyed from the stiff prick nudging against his thigh.
"Strong." Kurt purred as his hands found Dave's biceps. Dave tensed his arms and felt those fingers clenching around his muscle. Kurt's pleased shudder brought a huge grin to his face. Somewhere in the back of his mind a teen Dave pumped his fist. Not Fancy's type, his furry butt. "So strong. You're going to be my little bitch tonight aren't you, big boy?"
Okay, that wasn't what his teen self had expected. As a teen Dave would have freaked over the implication. Adult Dave, however, had explored enough to know that he enjoyed a splash of erotic humiliation when he bottomed. He was in charge so much of the time that being the 'bottom-bitch' was freeing. "Yes, Sir."
"You're a sub too? I am lucky tonight. Alright, how does a little humiliation and spanking while I fuck you?" Kurt negotiated the roles as his fingers traveled over Dave's belly fur.
"Sounds good to me." Dave leaned down to kiss Kurt's mouth again. Kurt commanded the kiss, shoving his tongue deep into Dave to show him how this was going to go. Dave loved it. He panted as Kurt bit his lower lip before speaking. "Get on your hands and knees, bitch."
Dave growled and rolled over. Kurt moved back so Dave could get in position. True to his word, Kurt's hand slapped on his left ass cheek. The sting was perfect. "Thank you, Sir."
Kurt slicked up his fingers and started to circle Dave's muscles. The action was gentle, coaxing his body to respond. Dave rocked himself back when he was ready to take more.
"Feel that, slut? Your little hole is about to be ripped open." Kurt's fingers spread, taking their time in stretching. The harshness of the words and the gentleness of his actions played havoc on Dave's lust.
Kurt's voice hissed obscenities into his ears as his body gave over to those long fingers. By the time Kurt deemed him ready he had four fingers pressed into the last knuckle and Dave was shaking on the edge of peak.
"Beg, bitch."
"Please. Please, Kurt. Please, Sir, fuck my worthless hole. Please, make use of me. Please." Dave might not have said all the words perfectly, but the desperation was in every dripping inch of his skin.
A rip of a foil package later and Kurt was nudging his widened ass. There wasn't a single catch or dry patch to stop the smooth side of his cock. Dave whimpered, joyful to have Kurt's hips pressed against his.
"Tight, nice and tight for me." Kurt purred despite Dave knowing that he wasn't anywhere near as tight after all the time spent opening him. The sentiment was still appreciated. He shifted on his knees to give Kurt some friction. Kurt's hands clenched down on his hips. "Eager boy."
"Yes, Sir. Very eager for you to fuck me." Dave bucked under Kurt to egg the top on.
It worked. Kurt pulled back and slammed the entire way in. He took up the same pace, dragging nearly out before slapping his hips against Dave's ass. Dave's gutteral moans mixed with Kurt's panting. Imprints of long fingertips branded his hip joint.
The peaks came, but not together. It was impossible to time when he didn't know Kurt's tells. Some men got louder, some whimpered, some screamed… Kurt went silent. He swallowed the cry and hissed through his teeth as he filled the condom. Dave wasn't sure it had happened until Kurt pulled out to take care of the condom.
Empty and aching, he fisted his cock in frantic pulls to smear on the motel sheets. Kurt came back to pet Dave's back as he worked through the after-tremors. Kurt's hands guided him down on the bed on his side. Dave's head was pillows against Kurt's bicep and Kurt's right leg rested over his hip. He felt safe. If Kurt has wanted afterglow talking then Dave could not provide. Sleep took him under in a manner of moments.
~~
A clock ticked, softly, but unfamiliar. A ticking… why would it be ticking. All of the clocks in his father's house were analog. Paul's eyes were weaker and the thin hands of a standard clock were too hard to see. So ticking…
Dave's eyes blinked open. The room was bright, but there was no light coming from the curtained window. He must have forgotten to shut off the light when he went to bed. He shifted and a weight on his waist paused him. It was an arm. A thin pale arm wrapped around his stomach. What?
He groaned and tried to work through the last night. New Years… hiding in the car… Kurt… dancing… kissing… bottom-bitch… oh, fuck. Kurt. He looked and sure enough the arm was attached to his high school crush. Who had fucked him last night.
Happy New Year, Davey.
Dave smiled and searched for the ticking. It came from Kurt's wrist. A designer watch with a backlit screen declared 3:30am. Dad would be a half hour behind on having his bag aired. He'd said he'd be home before 2. Crap. He had to go.
Dave inched out from the arms of his New Years lover and searched for clothing. He found everything but underpants… Good enough.
He didn't want to wake the man. Kurt had already curled back up with the pillow in Dave's place. He found piece of paper and scribbled an apology and a thank you…. Good enough.
Dave found his way home on the dark streets. He pressed a 50 in Tina's hand despite the protests. She was bleary eyed and he felt bad. But he didn't stay gone the whole night and compensated her… Good enough.
Dad was sleeping and the bad was already aired. However the heating unit seemed to have gone out and he pulled more blankets from the top shelf where Tina couldn't have reached. His father settled into a more restful sleep… Good enough.
His whole life was good enough. Dave laid down in his bed and set the alarm for 4:30am. He hoped Kurt wouldn't be upset. He hoped he left a good impression. He dreamed Kurt wouldn't call. He didn't want to complicate the man's life and Dave knew he couldn't handle a relationship with all of this.
Kurt never called.
~~
Dad got worse.
"Parkinsons." Dave told what felt like the thousandth person. This one was the neighbor who caught him taking the trash barrels to the street.
"I'm so sorry. Is there any hope?"
"He's late stage. It wasn't caught very early. Most of the symptoms didn't show up because of how badly his surgery recovery went. They thought it was related to that." Dave reported with precision. It was enough information that most people were satisfied.
"If you need anything just call." Everyone said this.
Dave gave a thin smile and retreated back into the house.
~~
"We need to talk about his end-of-life options." The home hospice worker was sitting with Dave as Paul took his noon nap. The woman had spoken to him and assessed the home. She was supposed to help. All Dave could hear was the horrible march of death progressing forward. "You dad's insurance covers a nurse to come in once every other day and take care of changing the linens and checking his IV's. And once he passes just call us and we will send in the people to take the body directly to the funeral home of your choice. Have you chosen one?"
The hand meant to comfort him, but it only irritated his skin. He didn't brush her off. He was supposed to accept people's comfort. Even if it's been rebounding off his skin since the diagnosis.
"Dad wrote it down on the fridge. Before I came."
"Do you mind if I go and take down the information?"
"Sure." Dave didn't notice her go. "I wonder if he knew. He pointed it out like four times before he went into surgery. I wonder if he was having symptoms."
The nurse left a packet with her number and the information on home hospice. He couldn't remember reading it, but he must have stared at the text for hours. His alarm went off and Dave changed his father's bag and IV. He watched his father's slowly rising and falling chest. He looked frail. Paul had always been a robustly present man. He was round and smiling and usually well spoken. He was a lawyer and had handed his practice over to his assistant.
Dave had never gotten his degree to practice in Ohio. He wished he could have taken over. He wished he could have made that dream of his father's true. He wished he had been straight. He wished he had children for Paul to dote on.
"I love you Daddy."
His father couldn't respond. He had forgotten who his son was again.
~~
Dave didn't think of what he was doing. He just dialed. It took two rings and the melodic voice he left behind New Years Eve was there.
"Kurt…"
"David. You called." Kurt's voice was soft when it should be shrill.
"I'm sorry for leaving…"
"No, that's not why you called."
"I… Let… let me start here?" Dave begged.
"Okay."
"I'm sorry for running out. It was a wonderful night. Thank you. I hadn't planned on…. on you." Dave laugh was watery. "I never planned on you. Not on the attraction, not on your courage, not on your stubbornness and especially not you kindness. I could never have known any of that would…"
Kurt made soft affirmative sounds from the other end of the connection. Dave thought there might have been words, but they buzzed into white noise.
"I tried to do it on my own. I tried to make it through alone. I almost did it. College and law school and the career. I never had to… call. And now."
Dave paused, trying to get his shaking breathing into his control. He could still hear the comforting noises from Kurt's mouth. One shuddering breath in and he could swipe the tears off his cheek. "My dad… he doesn't have long. The woman came with all this paperwork and I realized that my dad left me instructions. He knew. Kurt, he knew. And never told me. He called me home to see me a last time, not just to help him through the surgery."
"He couldn't have known, Dave."
"I don't know. There's just this thing on the fridge and… He never talked about death. Never brought it up, ever. And now he's already bought a funeral plot. How is this my father? He fought. He was a fighter and…. Oh God, Kurt. He doesn't know my name. I'm here, but… what if he dies alone anyway?"
"He's not alone. You're with him and he is so not alone. Even if he doesn't know you're his son. He's still not alone." Dave latched onto the confidence in Kurt's voice.
"He's not alone." He couldn't be sure his voice was even audible anymore.
"Not at all. You are with him. You have been with him this whole time. You're doing good. You're a good son. A good boy."
"I'm a good boy."
"Yes. And you are going to be okay. You're going to be with him in his last days. And it will get easier. I promise."
"Thank you." Dave kept the words in his mind. "I should let you sleep."
"Call anytime. No matter what."
"You're in New York now, right?"
"Yes. Otherwise I would come over and say this all in person."
"Thank you. I'll make this up to you."
"Dave, I'm glad you called. Very glad." Kurt's words were almost as soothing as Kurt petting his cheek. The phantom touch warmed his heart. "I was always happy you never called."
"Why? Did you not want to… Should I not have called?" Dave's lightened heart dropped like crystal on hard floor.
"No, no. Dave. Deep breath. Don't make all my fabulous work go away. Calm." Kurt paused and let out his own steadying breath. "I was glad you never called because I knew it meant you were alright. Even if things were hard, you were still going good enough not to have to. It made me happy."
"Oh…?" Kurt was expressing, in the most backward logic Dave had ever heard, that he'd been thinking about Dave all these years. All these years he thought he struggled alone. Kurt had been watching to make sure he was still okay. He chuckled at the strange thinking. "Then I hope never to call."
"Me too, Dave."
~~
His father died. It was in the morning of a stale February Tuesday.
He passed quietly, in his sleep. Dave didn't cry.
The men came to take his father's body away about an hour and a half later. Dave didn't cry.
He called the funeral home to inform them of the dead. Dave didn't cry.
He cleaned the house, cleared out the old linens from his father's sick bed, disposed of ead bag and marked all of his extra medical supplies for donation. Dave didn't cry.
Calls started in the evening as the news spread in the tiny Ohio town. Azimio expressed sympathy. Dave didn't cry.
The viewing was at the home with his father in an austere oak coffin. Speeches were made and he was expected to get up on that podium. He searched the faces and found so many. The Berrys, both generations, were in attendance with Leroy whimpering into Hiram's shoulder. Tina was there all in black and Puck was the one needing to be consoled. Coach Beiste had pulled him into a rough hug when he walked in. Burt and Carole there watching and Burt's smile had a sad sort of finality to it. Paul had been a little younger than Burt, but he was not the first of the generation to go. Sliding into a seat near his father, Kurt appeared to Dave. He mouthed something that looked like 'good boy'.
Dave finally cried.
He stood on that podium with tears falling down his face and spoke.
"Paul Henry Karofsky was born…. a long time ago. I used to think the world started with his birth. Because he was Dad. He was everything. He used to take me to the frozen lake every winter and put me in skates. He taught me how to check if the ice was safe. I still have my hockey skates at my apartment. He was a lawyer and he worked every day until at least 7pm. It didn't leave much time for family dinners, but he tried. The clerks at the courthouse knew me from when I was little because he was always toting me in when mom had to work. He defended anyone who walked in the door, even cases that no one wanted. It didn't help pay the bills some days, but what was important was upholding the law. The real law. Not just what some asshole said was the law."
Dave paused, having to clear his eyes for a moment. No one would blame him if he couldn't go on. But he was a good son. He was going to make sure his father was sent off well. He cleared his throat.
"He was a good man. He taught me how family was stronger than anything. He taught me that the people who stay near you no matter who you… who you are…. are the ones that are your true family. I never gave him grandkids, but he was proud. He made me proud to be exactly who I am. He rests with the angels. G.. .goodbye, Dad. I love you."
Arms wrapped around him and he sobbed into the broad shoulder of his former coach. Dave cried there until the mourners were all gone, save for one.
A pale hand tilted Dave's cheeks up and dabbed a kerchief under his eyes and nose. Kurt didn't speak as he tenderly cleaned Dave's face of the wages of grief. Dave could see the shining trails of where Kurt had succoum to emotion and somehow found a smile breaking through.
"Was the speech okay?"
"It was perfect. Not a dry eye in the house."
"He's really gone. I guess I go back to New York. Back to living life."
"That's generally what happens." Kurt's smile was kind and Dave placed a kiss to the back of Kurt's hand in thanks.
"See you there."
"I hope so."
In the months after Paul's death Dave's life would once again take on it's day to day grind. The grief would always be in his heart, less sharp of a sting with each passing day. Maybe tomorrow he would get out on the town again. Maybe he would get to the gym. Maybe he would call Kurt for a reason other than a last resort.
Maybe dad would have called him an idiot if he kept saying maybe.
Dave turned his cellphone over on his desk and pulled up the text he refused to delete. He would call for their new beginning.
