Title: Billy Brown (3/?)

Genre: Angst / Fluffy

Rating: PG-13 for now

Pairing: Dave/Kurt, future!fic

Summary: Oh, Dave Karofsky had lived an ordinary life

Two kids, a dog and the precautionary wife

While it was all going accordingly to plan

Then Dave Karofsky fell in love with another man

Dave was on time, if you wanted to be honest he was early. His morning had gone better, he'd gotten time to kiss his wife and children, a shower and driven the speed limit. He even stopped into the Starbucks to pick up breakfast, however the turning in his stomach prevented his intentions. He sipped the hot coffee as he walked into his office building. He smiled widely to the young receptionist. He chatted amiably with her for a few minutes, causing a few giggled from the usually professional woman. He offered her a parting grin that gained a soft fluttering of her eyelashes.

Dave sauntered into his office, calling out a cheery greeting to his assistant. The woman of only 20 smiled a bit hesitantly back. She then stood with ipad in hand to read off the day's itinerary.

"The Ross brothers have a telephone conference at 9am."

"Wonderful!"

"You have a 11 with Mr. Hummel."

"Good good. "

"A luncheon with the rep from Granite Inc."

"Shoot… Reschedule that for a 2 or 3 appointment. I made lunch arrangements yesterday with Mr. Hummel."

"Alright I'll call them… sir? Are you feeling alright?"

"I feel excellent actually."

"Sure.. I'll bring you the schematics for your 9 am conference."

Dave was completely unaware of the giant smile plastered over his face. He hummed as he worked through his day. He couldn't help himself, the whole world seemed brighter, more colorful. He subtly checked the clock and was shocked to find it 5 'til 11. He stood the stomach that h had neglected to feel this morning turning over.

The familiar chirp of the elevator heralded the moment he'd been waiting all day for. It might not be terribly professional, but he stood and exited his office. Dave's big hand extended toward the thin fashionista who had just sauntered into his office bringing his double-breasted military style jacket in green silk to brighten Dave's day.

"Good morning Kurt!" Dave knew he sounded chipper, but what could he care? Kurt was an old friend from high school, no reason not to be happy to see him. Except that they hadn't been friends, but such details were unimportant. His greeting caught Kurt in the middle of greeting the assistant. The fashionista's heel pivoted to face Dave, a small self-amused smile on his perfect lips.

"Mr. Karofsky…. "

"Dave please."

Kurt raised a single eyebrow before nodding. "Dave. Good morning."

"Come on in. I've been working on a few drawings based on our discussion yesterday. " He pulled up his briefcase, unlocking it to pull out the items that had drove him mind t distraction last night. He felt energized over the new project. If he was honest he would admit that it might have more to do with the impeccable creature sitting before him then the playhouse.

"So soon. I was under the impression that your would need to see the construction site first." That tone. Dave knew it painfully well. It had been the same behind every insult Kurt had ever offered him, every sneer at his clothing …. His hands curled into fists, memories tripping down his mind, reminding him of how much Kurt had hated him.

"Completely preliminary I assure you." Dave tongued his cheek, becoming self-conscious. Maybe he was a little too enthusiastic… He had read too much into their luncheon. Kurt had just been polite. He was just seeing Dave as a man working for him, as a means to an end. They never were friends, quite the opposite. Why should that have changed over an apology and lunch?

"It doesn't really matt…." Suddenly there was warmth… He looked down to find a thin manicured hand on his thick wrist. Skin warm against his, skin smooth against his…. Whatever Kurt's voice was saying suddenly got lost. "Huh?"

"I said I'd love to see them."

Dave's head came up and he was vaguely aware of pain in his palms. He opened his hand to find his nails lined with red. Blood… He looked up to Kurt and found those perfect hands gently pet his abused palm. That large palm had the new circles of blood, but also white raised lines from scars. It was a bad habit, one he thought he'd stopped years ago. "Sorry… I"

"It's okay. I'm sure you have a first aid kit." Kurt stood and began ordering his assistant about.

What was he doing? He was slipping into the state he'd bumbled through high-school in. Confused, over-eager, crushed whenever Kurt Hummel opened his beautiful mouth. He'd been up most of the night focusing his energy into the building Kurt wanted, and one little comment that probably meant nothing had brought him crashing down.

Soon Kurt had returned with a small first aid kit. He removed that beautiful jacket to reveal a pale cream ¾ sleave shirt. He clicked each latch open before pulling out a small cotton swab and peroxide. Those pale hands took his injured palm and delicately tend to the wound. Dave couldn't stop wondering what the teen Dave would have done. Probably lob insults and try to run away. He was a man now, in control of himself. "Thank you…"

"Let's get an early lunch." Such a simple light-hearted tone, as if this were any other day, as if Kurt's perfectly manicured hands hand's just been cleaning something as vulgar as blood.

"Um… k." Fuck he felt like a teen again.

"Clearly because of your work we are way ahead of ourselves. Let's break out a little bit. "

Dave followed, keeping his hands deep into his pockets. He glanced to the clock 11:20. Early for lunch. What was it about Kurt that made his world change. He was a controlled man, one who always took lunch with precision at 12pm. He waived to his assistant who stared at him before he disappeared behind the elevator doors.

Dave wondered if he looked once more like the hulking sweaty teen in a protective shield of a Letterman. He looked into the mirrored walls. No, still the Pressed and presentable business man. He had sweat at his forehead, but his back was still straight and his shoulders squared against the world. He was Dave Karofsky. Graduate of Ohio State, architect, father of two, husband… these were the things he had made himself into.

He watched Kurt through the mirror. There he stood, hand on hip, continually nose up, as if the entirety of life was beneath him. His thin torso wrapped in the strange and beautiful clothing only he could walk with pride in. His long legs in pants that must have been painted on seeing as they clung to the pert curve of his ass. Kurt who once haunted his dreams always knew exactly who he was. He never had to invent anything around himself. He could have anyone, anything by a lift on an eyebrow or a crook of one of those long pale fingers. The same fingers that reached toward him now. When had Kurt noticed him watching?

"Let's so somewhere private. You seem like you need it."

"Yeah. Anywhere you want."

"Follow me."