Dave headed back to Chicago defeated and happier than ever that he had escaped Lima. Now that things had been settled with Kurt he finally had no choice but to move on, at least that was what he told himself every night before he went to bed, clicking on his phone screen to stare at the background.
Try as he might, going out and establishing a new life was harder than it seemed. He talked to guys that reminded him of the boy he'd been forced to leave behind, but none of them had that something he was looking for; that thing that Kurt had that made him indefinable.
The biggest thing is that none of hem understood where he was coming from, couldn't understand why he was still closeted or why he was so determined to stay that way. Kurt hadn't liked it, but he'd always been sympathetic. His gentle, reassuring hand had been the glue that held Dave together through everything.
None of the fierce, fashionably fabulous fairies he talked to even came close to touching Kurt.
Dave determined after a few months that that was just how it was going to be. Maybe it was his punishment for being such an asshole. He had the rest of his life alone to look forward to.
Summer came all too soon, and Dave came out of his freshman year with better grades than he'd ever gotten. He tried to excuse it by thinking that, with the sports program's strict rules on passing grades, it made sense. But if he was honest with himself, it was really because studying was the only thing that kept him from other things. He'd never enjoyed studying before, but it as a more constructive form of escape than drinking, like his father always did. One thing Dave certainly didn't want was to become his father, but being gay more or less guaranteed that that would never happen.
Instead of coming home, Dave got a job and leased an apartment. His mother was pissed, but Dave had put up a good argument that there were more jobs in Chicago than there were Lima, and either way, he needed to work.
Chicago's summer was hot but Dave had actually always liked what heat signified. It meant time to be free to make one's own choices about what to do with their time. So, Dave chose to work, sleep, work-out and eat when there was time in-between. The pudge that had defined him through high school disappeared, melting away like snow after a long, cold winter. He was still big, but all the left-over chub transformed into tightly packed muscles. Looking in the mirror and seeing his new physique didn't please him though. The one person who would have commented positively on it was no longer in his life.
Going to the gym was a lonely ritual, but late into July, he started to notice someone noticing him. At first, the guy that kept staring at him only confused Dave, until he realized why he was staring. An old familiar disgust coiled up in his gut and he was beginning to wonder if there was something he was doing to draw attention to himself. Was it so obvious now that he was starting to attract flaky little fags? The old defenses started going up, pointedly ignoring the stares, doing everything he could to avoid meeting the other man's eyes.
When they ran into each other in the locker room, Dave had the strangest sense of déjà vu. This guy was built a lot thicker through the chest than Kurt ever would be, but he still had a slight feminine vibe about him that was so reminiscent of everything he used to resent in Kurt. Dave immediately scowled when the guy smiled at him, but even his venomous expression didn't deter the other.
With no one around, the smaller man was obviously feeling bold, because no sooner had Dave made the face that he was talking to him.
"Oh, honey, you're in there really deep aren't you," he lisped, shaking his head with a small smirk.
His certainty caught Dave off-guard and he looked at the other man in shock before he could recover himself.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
The lie came so easily, and all over again, Dave was his bigger, more insecure self, the one that stalked the high schools hallways in search of someone to terrorize, the weaker the better. His shoulders squared and his fists balled up as he tried to move past the other man.
"Sure, you don't," the other replied haughtily.
Dave turned on him.
"You're really itching for a beat down, aren't you," he hissed.
The other man laughed; his voice high, clear and bell-like.
"I like you," he grinned, "If you're finished, why don't you get a cup of coffee with me?"
Dave was so flustered, he could only gape, swallow and nod. He'd never met anyone who wasn't completely put off by his bullying and threats. Either this guy was crazy or a complete freak of nature.
He followed the slightly shorter one out of the gym, finally taking the time to assess the guy's appearance. He had sandy blond hair, obviously natural, a long, slender neck for someone who worked out, broad shoulders but not as broad as Dave's, a slim torso and an ass so muscular and tight that there was no way this guy couldn't be gay. Dave berated himself for that train of thought, simply because it always felt incriminating to catch himself thinking about how nice looking a guy's ass was.
They stopped in a Starbucks and grabbed some iced coffees and sat out on the veranda in the evening cool.
"How did you know," Dave finally said after a few sips of his coffee.
An eyebrow popped up on the other guy's face.
"Normally you start with asking for the other person's name," he instructed smugly, "It's Chris, by the way, and you show up at the gym alone and whether you realize you do it or not, you've totally checked out plenty of the guys there. Plus, you tried so hard to ignore me, it was kind of obvious."
Dave frowned, "I see . . . my name's Dave."
A few more silent sips passed before Chris started talking again.
"Well, Dave, is there a reason why a sexy piece of man like you is hiding in plain sight," he asked, toying with the straw with fingers so long and slim, they immediately reminded Dave of Kurt.
Aside from the hair color and a slight difference in build, Chris managed to exude an essence that felt familiar, comfortable. Perhaps it was his blunt, to the point way of speaking. Kurt never waded in peripheral bullshit. He had the ability to cut right to the chase and get to the root of whatever situation he found himself in. Chris seemed like that type, too.
"Long story," Dave mumbled, shoving his straw around in his cup.
"I'll bet," Chris replied, "How about when we finish this coffee, you take me back to your place and let me show you a good time?"
Dave's eyes went wide and he immediately looked around to make sure no one was listening. He couldn't believe he was being propositioned for little more than a one-night stand in broad twilight. Revulsion roiled in his gut and he grimaced at Chris. Maybe the vibe he'd gotten off of the other guy was all smoke in mirrors.
"Sorry," he growled softly, "That's not my style."
Dave stood, ready to leave this guy in his dust, but Chris was laughing so hard that big fat tears were rolling down his face. Dave looked at him, incredulous.
"Fuck, you are wound up tight," he gasped between stints of laughter, "Calm down, Goliath, I'm just joking with you. I didn't spend the last two weeks staring at you to try to pick you up for a one-night stand. Sit down."
Dave did as he was told, marveling at just how strange this guy was. Strange and unexpected.
"I've got some time," Chris finally said after he stopped laughing, "Why don't you tell me about yourself?"
Dave's brow furrowed, but he obliged Chris with the basics, glossing over most of it and bullet pointing where he could. Chris listened for the five minutes it took Dave to tell him 'everything' about himself.
Chris was silent for a moment and then tilted his head to one side, "I'm going to give you my number, you know. So, the next time you go the gym, you're going to call me and we're going to go to dinner instead. You don't have to troll the gym for guys anymore."
"That wasn't what I was doing," Dave replied, defensively, glowering at Chris.
"Well, that may well be, but you were still trolling for something," Chris countered, his plush lips wrapping around the straw and sucking down the rest of his coffee, "If not for a guy, then at least for a friend."
"If you're going to be friends with me, you should know I'm not a good guy," Dave warned Chris.
Chris smiled small, "Maybe once upon a time you weren't a good guy, but some people can change, with the right people to help them."
I had the right person helping me, and he kicked me to the curb, Dave thought, forlorn.
"You don't know anything about me, or about who I am, or who I've been," Dave said softly.
You don't want to know, he thought looking at Chris, who was giving him a level look in return.
"The past is just that," Chris finally said, "We can choose to release it and learn from it, or cling to it and let it hold us back. Maybe you've been making the wrong choice."
Dave looked at Chris, and for the first time in what seemed like ages, he felt like he was talking to someone who actually understood what he was feeling. The feeling completely terrified him, because he was so used to being misunderstood. He was used to having to watch out for himself, getting in people's faces if they pushed his boundaries, and threatening anyone who threatened the delicate balance he kept his life in.
Maybe in the last few years, he hadn't really changed at all.
Maybe that's why, when Kurt was with him, he still kept up his guard around Dave. He probably still feared for his life.
It only served to emphasize just how inadequate Dave was for Kurt. The thought depressed him.
Chris slipped a piece of paper into the bigger man's hand and stood.
"Thanks for coming out with me," he said in a quiet tone, "If you want to get together again sometime, just give me a call, okay?"
Dave looked at the small slip of paper and then up at Chris and tried to manage a smile, getting a lopsided twist of his lips instead.
"Yeah . . . thanks," he replied, watching as Chris tossed his cup and headed off into the darkening night.
He pulled out his phone and looked at Kurt's picture.
"I fucked up everything with you in so many ways, and I get it now," he whispered to a Kurt bent over his desk, writing out a French transcript into his notebook, his lips gently pursed in a way that Dave couldn't help but stare at.
"I did everything wrong. I was scared, I was stupid and I was too challenged to do things the way they should have been done, but you still became my friend," he continued, "I never deserved any of it."
Kurt, of course, didn't answer him, but Dave imagined those eyes turning to meet his, those lips curling up in that signature smug smile, one side quirking up just a little more than the other. The idea comforted Dave. It felt safe, like the home that wasn't his, but that he wanted to be a part of anyway.
No matter what, he definitely wasn't the same guy from high school. Not the same guy so scared to be found out that he was willing to kill to keep it stuffed down, but he wasn't far enough away from that guy, and he didn't know if he ever would be.
He looked at the number again, and slowly, methodically typed the number into his phone book, saving it under Chris's name. Maybe this was his second chance, his chance to do it right.