One more night in New York City. One more night taking hit after hit and trying to stay standing. Dave loved hockey, but on nights like tonight when he took more hits than shots, it sucked. He had soaked his sore back for an hour after the game, just trying to release the knots of tension that had built up.

He made sure the trainers had set up a massage for him the next morning, before they headed to Toronto for their next series. He loved his job. He was a defenseman for the Boston Bruins. He had been drafted out of college, after attending Boston College. Now he was a single, 28 year old hockey player, trying to make his way through life. He had come out in college and when he was drafted, he was the first openly gay player drafted. He found out about a year in that there were many gay players in the NHL, but not many were willing to admit it or be open about it, until they had retired.

He didn't mind it though, the NHL had done a great deal to show support for him and his teammates didn't give a crap who he slept with as long as he did his job and kept the puck on the other side of the blue line.

He was ready to settle down though, or at least find someone to hang out with, on the rare occasions he wasn't playing in a game or training. His last serious boyfriend was in college and that ended when he had been drafted and his boyfriend wanted to join the Peace Corps.

Dave checked his phone for at least the sixth time since leaving Madison Square Garden. He had just finished a game where they won quite handily and was told by his goalie that they were going to go out and party that evening. It was New Year's Eve and most people were just heading out to celebrate.

That's when the text came. They were having a huge party just a few blocks from Times Square. Apparently, their agent had gotten them into an exclusive party for celebrities. Dave cringed at being labeled a celebrity. He was a hockey player and there wasn't much glamorous about losing your teeth because an opposing player shoved your head through a glass wall.

Dave had promised that he would go anyway for the sake of the team and because women loved him and he could get his team mates dates. So there he was going to Justin Timberlake's New Year's Eve Party and at the very least try to flirt with a cute caterer or bartender.

So that's how he found himself sitting at a bar flirting with the hot waiter, talking about how beautiful Boston was in the fall and talking about their shared home state of Ohio, when he heard him. He would recognize that voice anywhere. It had been part of his dreams for years and every time he heard it, his heart fluttered and his stomach dropped.

He could hear him laughing with someone about the audacity of the New York Times to dare insinuate that a gay man playing a straight character on Broadway, film, or television was somehow inappropriate or ridiculous.

Dave had always loved listening to Kurt talk, sing, laugh, or make any kind of noises, really. The waiter realized about thirty seconds into Dave's silence that he recognized the voice of the man behind him.

"You know the hot twink in the pea coat and scarf?"

"I think so. But I haven't seen him in a very long time. Not since, I went away to college. We went to high school together."

"You went to high school with Kurt Hummel? As in the Kurt Hummel who is starring as Danny Zuko in Grease on Broadway? The Kurt Hummel who was nominated for a Tony Award?"

"So, that's really Kurt?"

"Yeah. I thought you had to be wrong, honestly. I mean, what are the odds that two famous celebrities from the same freaking state as me show up together? And they know each other? Can you introduce me to him? I loved him so much in Billy Elliot. My friends keep begging me to get tickets to Grease just so they can see him shake his ass in those jeans."

Dave snorted at that.

"I don't think so. Kurt and I aren't exactly friends. We actually didn't get along in high school until the end of our senior year, but we weren't really friends."

"Oh, that's too bad."

Brian, the cute waiter, picked up his tray.

"Sorry gotta go back to work. I don't want to get fired on my first night."

Dave wanted to slam his forehead on the bar. Just his luck, the first cute guy he flirts with in months was only using him to get to cuter celebrities than himself. Of course, it would be Kurt Hummel, too, because karma was a bitch to him still, even after all those years.

Dave waved to the bartender and got his glass refilled. The bourbon was nice and smooth and aged just how he liked it. He needed liquid courage if he was going to get off his ass and go talk to the one person he thought he'd never see again.

He walked quietly over to where Kurt was standing. He was in a group of other actresses and actors and a few singers. Dave recognized them all as being famous and even had a few of their songs on his IPod.

Kurt never even looked at him, though, and Dave turned to leave. For the rest of the party, he could hear Kurt talking to anyone and everyone else, but he never even acknowledged Dave. Dave figured that would be for the best, because what would they even have to talk about after ten years of no contact?

Dave was instantly thrown back to high school and the memory of everything that had happened and what led up to the events of him ending in a hospital room, thankful to be alive and to have a second chance. He was grateful to his dad for finding him and getting him help and for Kurt giving him hope of a friendship, even if that never panned out. It had been enough for him to keep trying, to be himself and to be proud of it.

He knew the countdown was close and he walked to the balcony to watch the actual ball drop live a few blocks away. The wind outside was cold, but with his heavy coat and a hat and scarf, that he always took with him on road trips, he was perfectly warm.

The snow was slowly falling and under the orangeish glow of the streetlights and the large crystal ball in the foreground, it was almost magical. He heard the balcony doors open a few minutes later and a few more people joined him. He sat in silence and watched as the ball slowly started to move. He felt a presence and smelled familiar cologne beside him as it reached lower and lower. Then the countdown came and it was over. People were kissing and cheering and he had never felt more alone. Then he felt the hand in his hand. And he looked into the sparkling eyes of Kurt Hummel. He was smiling at him and he squeezed his hand.

"Happy New Year, David."

Dave's throat leapt and he had to clear his dry, hoarse throat.
"Happy New Year, Kurt."

Dave removed his hand then, because he felt like his hand was going to burn off and he felt his entire body buzzing with intense energy just from that brief exchange.

Kurt leaned towards him then and appraised him.

"So, Rachel is right, you do look more muscular than you did in high school. Hockey has done wonders for you."

"You know I'm a hockey player?"

"Are you kidding me, David? My dad and Finn are like obsessed with the Boston Bruins. Seriously, anytime they visit me or I'm home in the winter, it's always, "Sorry, Kurt, but we gotta watch this hockey game tonight. Dave's playing."

Dave felt himself swelling with pride at that.

"Really? Your dad is impressed by that?"

"You have no idea. It's quite annoying actually, because they are more impressed by you, than by my career!"

"Sorry, Kurt. But hey, if it makes you feel any better, my grandma adores you. She thinks you are just amazing and tells me whenever I call home that I should get your autograph, because you were just fabulous on "When Dinosaurs Get Drunk."

"Your grandmother watched "When Dinosaurs Get Drunk?"

"Yeah, she loves it! She made me set up her DVR for it. Truthfully, I got her into the show, but you have a huge fan in her. She couldn't care less about my hockey career."

"Yeah, but hockey is boring! I mean at least with my television show and my Broadway career, it's like I get to be new people, each time I do a project and people love seeing it!"

Dave shrugged, "Well, at least with sports, it's something new every single night. You cannot script real sports like hockey. A game could go either way, and that's the beauty of it. It's this poetic dance almost. You pour your entire soul into something for sixty minutes, each time without fail, and at the end, if you win or lose, you just created beautiful artwork."

Kurt smiled, "Wow, you are so poetic when you want to be David. Too bad you are wasting it on something like hockey."

"Wasting it? Not even close. Why do you think sports fans are so passionate about their teams? It's because they invest their entire souls, everything they are, into that time frame, just like the players. The experiences the thrills of victories and the agonies of defeats and when it's over, they were just as involved as the players themselves. It's magnificent. Sure, fictional television is great and people get invested in characters, but live sports, seeing it happen live, is so much better than seeing something on television. That's why I like your Broadway plays better."

"You've seen Grease?"

Dave blushed and almost denied it, but then shrugged,

"Yeah. I've seen Grease and I saw Billy Elliott a few times too. I think what you're doing is great."

"I've gotta admit, Dave. I never thought of you as the Broadway type. And I'm even more stunned that you watched 'When Dinosaurs Get Drunk.' That show lasted only twelve episodes, before it got cancelled. That show was awful."

"It was not awful! It was awesome! And it has a cult following now! People love the show. I mean when I'm in Boston, there are some friends who I have viewing parties with."

"You have viewing parties to watch my horrible television show?"

"Yeah! And stop saying it's horrible. I find it hilarious and awesome."

Kurt just shook his head.

"So, I'm actually going to head back inside now, because it's like twelve degrees out here, but would you like to hang out before you have to leave the city?"

"Are you asking me out on a date, Kurt?"

Dave took a chance and decided to flirt with Kurt. He had the chance and he still liked him after all those years.

It was Kurt's turn to blush.

"Depends. Are you going to say yes?"

"Yeah. I think I am."
"Then yes. I was asking you on a date."

"Well what time do you think?"

"How about now? I'm starving after my performance and you played a hockey game tonight."

"Sure. You know of somewhere that's open?"

"Sure I do. How does my apartment sound?"

Dave nearly choked on the champagne he had just taken a sip of.

"That sounds great."

Dave's pulse was racing a mile a minute as he was led out of the apartment by Kurt Hummel.

The night had taken an unexpected, but amazing turn.

It didn't take long for Kurt to find his limo and then they were off to his limo, which happened to be a few blocks away overlooking Central Park.

Kurt ordered his driver to pick him up the next morning for his rehearsal and then Dave and he were in the elevator headed to the penthouse suite.

Dave stood awkwardly against the side of the elevator as far away from Kurt as he could get.

He shuffled his feet nervously, hoping that he wouldn't embarrass himself any further that evening.

And then the doors opened and he walked into an absolutely gorgeous apartment. It smelled good and soft lighting glowed down on the lobby of the suite.

Kurt handed his coat to his manservant, and urged Dave to take his off as well.

Dave handed his coat to the man, and then stood, as Kurt looked him up.

He had opted for a blue pullover sweater and a pair of jeans that he knew looked awesome on his ass. The young girl at Macy's told him so.

Kurt then turned toward the kitchen.

"Fredo has already left for the night, but he always keeps frozen meals for me, because I often work really late into the evenings. Does salmon and rice or lemon pepper fish and green beans and mushroom risotto sound better to you?"

Dave couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You have a manservant and a cook? Don't you ever cook anything yourself or answer your own door or phone?"

"I have tons of money, why should I?"

"I don't know, it just sounds so pretentious to me. I mean I like good food as much as the next guy, but I'm not about to go hire a cook, even if I can afford one."

"Are you about done judging me on my life choices and spending habits?"

"I'm not trying to judge you, Kurt. I just don't get it."

"Sort of how I don't get why you have millions of dollars and still dress like you buy all your clothing at Wal-Mart?"

Dave felt the sting of those words as they hung in the air.

Dave walked back toward the lobby.

"This is not happening, Kurt. I'm going to go back to the hotel."

"Don't you fucking dare, David. You knew what this was when I propositioned you on the balcony at the party. I haven't had sex in close to two months and I put in at least two hours of time and energy into getting you here. So you're not walking away and acting like a pissy baby. It's just not happening."

Dave was really livid then.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You propositioned me? Why did you try to come up with this ruse of having dinner? It would have been far simpler to just ask me to fuck you. I could have done that anywhere. We didn't have to come back here, you know."

"I do have standards, David. Just shut up and fuck me then, since you're so eager and willing to."

"Don't flatter yourself."

"Really? You're saying that you don't want to have sex with me? You were basically stalking me all night at the party and as soon as I showed you any attention you were like a puppy so eager to please."

Dave shut Kurt up then by kissing him angrily. There was no tenderness in the kiss. Just teeth and tongue and passions and anger flaring.

Dave muscled Kurt against the wall and Kurt moaned. Dave took note of it.

If it was rough, emotionless sex that Kurt wanted, then it was what he would get. Dave was horny too and even though he understood what a horrible idea it was for him to have sex with Kurt, given their history.

Dave kissed Kurt again and picked Kurt up easily. Kurt slid his legs around Dave's waist as Dave held him up against the wall.

"Where is your bedroom?"

Kurt mumbled something under his breath.

Dave rolled his eyes,

"Use your words, Hummel. If you want me to fuck you, you have to tell me where I can drop you so that I can fuck you."

Kurt sighed, "Do you have to be so crude, David? My bedroom is the first door on the left. When we get in there, do not drop me anywhere. And don't you dare rip any of my clothing."

Dave wanted to drop Kurt right then and there, but then Kurt rutted his hips against Dave's and his raging hard on came back to the focus of his attention.

He quickly made his way down the hall and stopped against Kurt's bedroom door to kiss him some more. And it was filthy and wet and Kurt was whimpering and Dave felt slightly bad, because his back was jammed into the doorknob. So he finally opened the door and quickly set Kurt down.

All business, no foreplay, was the motto running through Dave's mind. It's not normally how he operated when he had sex with someone, so this would be a first for him. In fact, he had never had a one-night stand before this, so if he had to break his streak, he couldn't think of any better than Kurt to do it with.

He undressed himself quickly and watched as Kurt carefully took each piece of clothing off and folded it before he moved to the next. If Dave, weren't in this for only sex, he'd probably find it adorable and neurotic and so perfectly Kurt that it would hurt his heart to think about.

And then Kurt was finally naked and making some snippy remark to Dave to hurry up, that he didn't have all night to get this done with.

Dave moved toward the bed and pushed Kurt against one of the many oversized pillows on Kurt's bed.

"Shut up, Hummel. You want sex? I'll give you sex, but you don't get to provide input the rest of the night. You wanted me? You got me, but do me a favor, shut up. Your voice is grating."

Kurt gasped indignation and Dave smiled at that.

Served him right for being a bitch about this.

Dave slowly sat on the bad and slowly removed his boxers.

He thought about all the compliments past lovers had given him on his girth and length and wondered if Kurt had ever had someone so big before. But thinking about Kurt and other lovers, depressed him too much. Instead he looked over at Kurt who gaped at him.

"What?"

"How big are you exactly?"

"Close to nine inches long and about six inches wide."

"Great. Porn size. I hope you have condoms with you, because you will definitely not fit my average ones."

"Yeah. In my wallet."

"So go get it. Do you need me to walk you through everything? Please don't tell me you're a virgin."

"Fuck you, fancy. No, I'm not a virgin. I just haven't had sexing a while and this is weird, considering who I'm having sex with. Do you have to be such a bitch about it?"

Kurt just sighed and laid back, "Let's do this and then afterwards you can discuss your precious feelings."

Dave wanted to get up and walk out the door, but with Kurt looking that gorgeous spread out on his bed and practically whimpering in anticipation. Dave instead took the condom from his wallet and deftly grabbed the bottle of lube that Kurt lobbed at his head when he took too long putting the condom on himself.

Dave couldn't ever remember being so aware of another man before, but Kurt filled every sense he had. He knew that Kurt had never taken anyone as large as him, so he popped open the lube and coated his fingers and his cock. He could tell Kurt was getting frustrated, but Dave liked seeing that. Knowing that Kurt wanted Dave to fuck him, was practically begging for it and that he would have to wait on Dave.

He put a hand on Kurt's hip to still him and told Kurt to life his legs and spread. Once Dave had easier access, he began to insert a finger. Kurt continued to whimper as Dave inserted another one. Dave slowly worked Kurt open and watched in pride, as Kurt became a quivering mess beneath him. He could definitely get used to this picture of Kurt and it would stay ingrained in his mind forever.

Kurt finally grasped Dave's wrist and removed the fingers,

"Just fuck me, damnit."

Dave wanted to cringe at the callousness and crudeness of Kurt's words, but bit back his retort. Once he lined himself up and had started to slowly insert himself, he grasped Kurt's hips tightly, holding him firmly in place. Kurt groaned in frustration and tried to spur Dave on but Dave refused to give him one inch.

Instead, he purposely drew out the first penetration and when he finally bottomed out, he held Kurt still, until he was cursing and finally pleading for David to move.

And then Dave did. He set an almost brutal pace slamming into Kurt over and over. The only sound that could be heard was heavy panting, skin slapping skin, and Kurt crying out whenever Dave managed to brush his prostate.

"Oh, goddamnit, David, don't stop."

Dave just gripped Kurt's hips tighter and then he rolled over and Kurt was sitting on top.

"If you want to this to continue, then you'll have to do some work. I don't like lazy partners in bed."

Kurt gasped in indignation, but then grinned wickedly and began to fuck himself on Dave. He squeezed down, hard, each time and each time it brought Dave closer and closer to the brink and just when he was about to take control again, Kurt grasped the back of Dave's head and pulled his hair viciously and Dave couldn't control it. He was coming harder than he had ever done in his life and fuck if Kurt hadn't discovered one of his kinks. As he began to recover, he realized that Kurt had also come and was flopped over into his chest.

"That was…"

"Yeah. How soon do you think you'll be ready to go again, David?"

"You want to do that again?"

"No. I was just making small talk. Of course I want to do that again. Who knows if we'll ever see each other again? Better make the most of mind blowing sex before it walks out of your life is my motto."

"You have a motto for one night stands?"

"Don't you?"

"Uhh, not really, Kurt. I don't do one night stands."

"You just did, David."

"Right, but you were my first."

"I find it hard to believe that someone with a magnificent cock like yours is just now having a one night stand. I mean, you go from city to city every month and you haven't slept with one groupie, ever?"

"Nope. I never had the desire to just go out and have random sex. I like my sex to mean something and be with someone I love."

"And you made an exception for me? I don't know whether to be touched or creeped out."

"Like I said, I like my sex to mean something and be with someone I care for deeply."

"That's not what you said, David. You said love."

"Fine then, love."

"You don't love me, David. You don't even know me."

"You're right, I don't, but I do care for you and have since high school. I made an exception, because I wanted to, Kurt."

Kurt looked around panicked.

"I have to get out of here. I have an early day tomorrow. I am in the New Year's Day parade in the city."

"You're running away."

"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are. You hear that I have genuine feelings for you and have for a long time, so you're running away, because you don't like committed relationships, because Blaine or Adam or whoever your last "forever" boyfriend was, broke your heart."

"Fuck you, David."

"It's the truth, Fancy. You've always gone after assholes, because you have this weird dependency thing where you think you need to earn someone's affection and love, and now you find someone who actually wants to earn your affection and love and you get scared."

"I'm still in my apartment, David. I'm not running anywhere. You on the other hand can get a ride in my town car. My chauffer is still on duty tonight. In fact, I might go have a late night drink with my cast mates."

Dave just rolled his eyes and finished dressing,

"I thought you had an early day, Kurt."

"I do, but one drink won't hurt me."

"But apparently spending any more time with me will."

"What did you think would happen, David? That one night with your cock up my ass, would make me suddenly fall in love with you. I mean your cock is awesome, but it's not magic. We are from two different worlds. I live here and you live in Boston or on the road. What the hell kind of relationship would that be? One where we'd grow apart and one or both of us would end up cheating and then hating each other for the rest of our lives. Just leave it as a great night of sex, with a friend and move on."

"Wait… what? You really think I'm like looking to get married to you now that I had sex with you. Sorry, but my penis may not be "magic" as you said, but your ass isn't exactly the Mona Lisa either, Kurt. I was just hoping to hang out with you, before I left. And what the hell are you talking about? We are both famous. We both made a shit ton of money. So, because I make mine by playing a sport and you make yours by pretending, you are somehow better than me? I don't know where you come off thinking that I'm like begging to be your boyfriend or planning my life with you years down the road, but I'm not. Whatever, Kurt. I don't need your fucking town car. I can get a cab, hell I can even walk back to the hotel; it's like eight blocks from here. Fresh air might do me good anyway. Give me time to remind myself why one night stands are horrible ideas and to never do it again."

Kurt simply shrugged and went into the master bathroom and shut the door.

David felt like a moron. He was uncomfortable, tired, and frankly pissed. He had wanted to make Kurt happy, which he apparently succeeded at, but he was left with a bitter taste in his mouth. And Kurt had made him feel terrible about himself. Like everything he was now, even years later, wasn't good enough. He picked up his jacket went outside and started walking back toward the hotel. He found a diner not far away and decided to stop for some coffee and pie and hopefully forget about Kurt and what had happened that night.