Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, nor do I own any of its characters.

Blue Eyes (I Hold You Near)

By ktfranceebee

Part III

When Kurt woke up the next day, he found that his father was already sitting down at the kitchen table, drinking in the bright, early summer morning as well as a fresh, piping hot cup of coffee.

Kurt yawned, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he went to the cupboard and pulled out a ceramic mug. He missed the inquiring look on his father's face.

"Morning," Kurt mumbled as he poured a stream of the heavenly-aromatic liquid into the vessel.

"Have a late night?" Burt asked lightly as he reached for his own mug. When Kurt turned around, he saw him staring at him expectantly over the rim of his mug.

"No…?" Kurt said in an upward inflection. "Why?" He set his mug on the kitchen island. This was their first time alone with his dad since he was picked up from the airport. The past couple of days consisted of Kurt being surrounded by his family as a whole.

"Well, I was wondering why you went to bed so early last night, so I checked up on you and found you passed out, using your phone as a pillow. Late night phone calls I should be worrying about?"

"I'm twenty years old, Dad," Kurt pointed out as he inclined his head for emphasis.

"No need to get defensive. I'm just messing with you, kiddo." Kurt relaxed, nodding as he went to the cupboard and withdrew a container of powdered vanilla creamer that he and Carole both loved so much. It was nice to see that she kept it in the same place; like she always put it there in the hopes that he could still find it when he came back.

"If you must know, I was talking to Dave. I haven't spoken to him properly since I got here."

"Hey, him and me both," Burt said in a brooding tone. Kurt gave him a somewhat guilty look.

"You'd think you guys were in two different countries. But I guess I don't blame you." He shrugged.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Kurt asked, schooling his features. He halted his conquest in attempting to locate any possible Splendapackets. Coming up empty after checking in the pantry, he supposed he could do without. He grabbed a spoon and dipped it into his coffee, giving it a stir.

Burt sighed as he motioned to the chair in front of him.

"If we're going to talk, you might as well sit." Kurt gave him a suspicious look, as though he was about to be on the receiving end of a speech similar to those his dad gave to him while he was in high school. Eventually—and with coffee in hand as he would probably need the caffeine to survive this—he moved to the table and sat down cautiously in front of his dad.

"What I'm trying to say it that… During these past couple of years, you and David sort of became each other's rocks."

"Dad, if you're still upset about me and David being friends…"

"What's going on with you today?" Burt cut in. "Every time I mention Dave, you think I'm going to attack him or something."

Kurt opened his mouth blankly before he shook his head to clear his thoughts.

"I'm sorry," he sighed as he absentmindedly stirred his coffee. "I don't know what's going on with me. I just have a lot of things on my mind right now."

"'A lot of things'being David."

"No," Kurt dragged out. "I… Need to find a job, finish registering for classes. That sort of thing."

"Right." Burt sat up straighter in his chair causing the legs of the chair to scrape slightly against the tile floor causing Kurt to look up at him.

"Kurt," Burt said firmly. "I have known you longer than anyone else on this planet. You're my son.I know I may only get to see you one, maybe two times throughout the year, if I'm lucky, but that doesn't stop me from figuring out what is going on in your life, or what's going on in your head."

When Kurt could only stare at him blankly, Burt continued.

"I mean, c'mon. My inbox is filling up because of the pictures you send me every week. One day it's'David and me visiting the Statue of Liberty' or 'David and me in Times Square'. David this, David that. And in all of the pictures of you two, I see how he looks at you and how you look at him." He smiled weakly. "I know that you—both of you—seemed to miss out on years of happiness while in high school. And in those pictures, I can finally see the happiness that you missed out on.

"I know you had your friends in the Glee Club, Kurt, but that didn't stop you from growing up so damned fast. In the blink of an eye you went from being my sweet little boy to strong, confident young man who I'm just as proud of." Kurt gave his dad a watery smile, thinking of the conversation that they had a few months before Kurt went off to New York. It was still so fresh in his memory. Burt continued on.

"And it should be the easiest thing in the world for me to hate that guy, and part of me reallywants to… But I don't. He's…" Burt nodded his head contemplatively. "He's a good guy, Kurt. I saw that the last time he was here. I don't know if you're just a good influence on him, but he's changed. I also don't know whether you like him, or something more, but I don't want you to have to hold out on something—you being happy—just because you are afraid of what other people think. Wasn't that something you figured out in high school?"

Kurt sat glued to his chair in shock. Did his dad just… Push him in the direction of dating the guy he once pinned to a corkboard in the middle of a high school hallway? And even more than that, did he realize his feelings for Dave before…

Oh, wow…

He had feelings for Dave.

"Wow, I…" Kurt articulated the exact words on his mind. He slumped back into his chair, a definite change from the rigid, upright position he sat in as he listened to his father's discourse. He retained his tight grip on the nearly scalding earthen material of the cup in his hand. "How did you do that?"

"I'm your dad. That's my job isn't it?" He said simply.

"I didn't even realize… Do you think…" Kurt swallowed thickly. "You don't think he loves me do you?" Kurt wanted to say 'still loves me.'There was once a time when Dave said he thought he loved him. Over the years, however, he was inclined to believe that he was right to think that what Dave felt for him was a just a crush. He never made any inclination that he still had feelings for Kurt.

"I dunno. Why don't you tell me what's on your mind, for once. This psychology thing is kind of tiring this early in the morning." He took a huge gulp of his drink for added emphasis.

Kurt slipped his hand into the pocket of his pajama pants and pulled out his phone, turning on the display. His background was none other than him and Dave; a rather up close and goofy self-portrait of them in the back of a taxi cab. Kurt was making a rather unattractive face; fish lips and cross-eyes, actually. Before he could begin to wonder why he would set such a monstrosity as his background, he looked at Dave's face and could understand why now: The smile on his face as he looked at Kurt as if he was the single most amazing thing in this world.

"He looks at me like you look at Carole," Kurt said softly and mostly to himself.

Burt, who had stood up, hovered behind his shoulder and nodded in agreement, before adding. "Like I looked at your mom."

"I don't know what to do, though, I… I don't want to hurt him…" And Kurt realized that was how it has always been. Never bringing dates back to their place; not that those boyfriends ever lasted. "Not again," he added in an undertone.

He wasn't entirely sure how Dave being hurt would factor in. If anything, Kurt was the one putting himself in a position to be hurt. But it wasn't as though Dave didn't do that numerous times before.

"You're a smart kid, Kurt. Sorry," he said as Kurt gave him a questioning look. "Smart adult. You'll figure it out." Kurt listened to the retreating footsteps that followed the squeeze of his shoulder. He looked back at the device in his hand. A smile played on his lips and he couldn't help the way his heart seemed to leap into his throat at the way the corners of Dave's eyes wrinkled from the smile on his face. And his eyes…

Something within Kurt stirred with curiosity as he recalled the words in the song Dave sang to him as he fell asleep last night. Though he could barely remember the lyrics, he knew he had heard that song before. Death Cab for Cutie, he recalled. Dave listened to a lot of alternative rock and indie bands that Kurt had never heard of before. But this song….

Kurt stood up and hurried out of the kitchen, cell phone in hand and rapidly cooling coffee long forgotten. As soon as he made it to the living room, he bounded up the stairs. Finn, too, had come home from Ohio State University during the summer but Kurt wasn't concerned about waking his stepbrother from his slumber as his feet pounded on the carpeted steps leading to the second floor. This was a matter of utmost importance.

As soon as Kurt was in his bedroom, he shut the door behind him. Spotting his bag where he left it on his desk, he opened it and pulled out what he was looking for: His headphones. After plugging them into the device and popping the little buds into his ears, he plopped onto his back on bed and scrolled through his music.

One of the perks, Kurt had to say, about having a roommate you know so well was having a wider variety of music to listen to. Whenever Kurt became bored of the songs he had on his own iPod, Dave had no qualms about letting Kurt borrow his laptop to swipe some of his songs. Kurt kindly offered to reciprocate the practice, but Dave apparently got his dose of Kurt's "kind of music", as he called it, courtesy of him having to frequently practice and rehearse his songs for theater, much to the disdain of their neighbors.

Finally, Kurt was able to find the song he was looking for. After pressing play, he closed his eyes and listened to the music drifting into his ears. The song was much different, he recalled, than the way Dave sang it.

Not that it was bad.

It's just that Dave's voice was much deeper—a baritone, actually—and the way his insides felt as he sang was incredibly pleasant. Something akin to eating a rich and chocolatey dessert.

Despite the fact that Kurt was enjoying the song, about half way through, however, he found himself ripping his headphones off and staring down at the device as though it told him a scandalous lie.

"Oh, David," Kurt whispered sadly as he set down his iPod. After all this time.

If he knew one thing for sure, it was that David still loved him and whether Kurt loved Dave, well… Kurt was almost certain that the mutual feelings of respect, friendship, and understanding between them sowed something much deeper. And now, Kurt was certain that it was love that had blossomed between them and was now batting its eye in Kurt's direction.

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