AN: I was considering having all the chapters be about the same length, but I noticed that I wasn't getting through more than a couple of scenes that way — practically inching through my outline. I think I'll pick it up, at least a little.
"Okay, I think I've got it!" Kurt beamed as he filled in the last of the equation. "So that means the graph needs to look like this, right?"
"Right! Hey, you're getting it pretty quick!"
"That's thanks to you. You're clarifying all the little things Prof. Schuester just assumes I understand." Kurt cocked his head. "You're a lot more patient than I thought you'd be."
"Yeah, well, I have motivation, you know?" Kurt grimaced; it was an unpleasant reminder of just how far things had to go to get Dave to even this small step to begin with. Even though he bent over backwards to make sure that Dave knew he could walk out of this arrangement whenever he liked without consequence, Dave, and his fears, stubbornly stayed put.
But Kurt had a strong feeling that it wasn't just the fear that kept him around. As the tutoring sessions progressed, Dave became more... animated. Not that he wasn't larger than life before, but there was more... substance to him — definitely more enthusiasm. The change wasn't one that Kurt could've objectively described if his life depended on it, but every nerve in his being told him it was there. Maybe the best metaphor Kurt could think of was that of a dam break: tiny at first, but as the pressure grew, the crack grew wider and wider, until, eventually, it collapsed under a roar of rushing water.
Kurt tapped his mechanical pencil against his notebook thoughtfully, though it wasn't the next homework problem he was musing on, as Dave was probably assuming. Certainly if Dave had been keeping his math skills as close to his chest as it appeared he was, it had to be incredibly isolating. Now that he had some kind of outlet to share his talent, even in such a limited way, maybe he'd see that there was nothing to be afraid of...?
"Hey, Kurt?" The named young man looked up at the question. It'd taken a couple of sessions to suppress Dave's habit of calling him "fancypants," but even if nothing else happened, that alone made this whole experience worthwhile. "What's your major?"
"Hm? Theatre, actually, with a minor in music. Why do you ask?"
"Um, well... It just kinda occurred to me that I really don't know much about you, and if we're going to be doing this... I figured I'd feel a lot better about all of it if I got to know you. I mean, Finn talks about you all the time, how great you are and all, but for all I know, you could still out me tomorrow..."
"I see your point. Then I suppose I should start with a brief biography: I grew up in the Columbus area. My dad owns his own auto repair business..."
"What do you want to do with your life?"
Kurt's lips curled in a slight frown as he regarded Dave, who was close to leaning over the table towards him. There was something about the eagerness, the strain, with which he'd asked that already mildly odd question... Something inside him told him that he had — had — to answer, as directly and as fully as he could. "I want to be a star," he said simply.
Dave chuckled. "Man, you don't go halfway, do you?"
"Of course not. I learned long ago that not giving it my all wouldn't make me happy. I'm proud of my accomplishments, and I like what I do. If others don't like it, screw them. I can't let other people run my life for me."
"You make it sound so simple." Once again, there were shades there that Kurt couldn't yet fathom.
"For me, it is... Now, at least. It was a lesson won with a lot of hardship. Would I have rather not gone through it? Of course. But I think I'm a stronger person for it. It helped me focus on myself, figure out who I am and what I want. I have a goal, I have a plan, and I'm ready, willing, and able to do what it takes to follow through — and I think that makes a lot of difference. It's actually sort of comforting."
It was only at this point that Kurt actually looked up. Dave was staring at him, yet... not. His eyes were unfocused, as if he were looking at something else, something that wasn't really there, except in Dave's mind. Yet Kurt had absolutely no doubt that every word of his had been absorbed.
"That's great," Dave finally said softly. "That's great that you're able to do that. I really admire that."
It didn't feel like the right time to press, no matter how much he wanted to. "What about you?" It was counterproductive, Kurt realized, but so completely natural even given ignorance of what Dave was really capable of that it almost had to be asked. Besides, he was genuinely curious.
"Hm?"
"If you get to know me, I get to know you. So what about your life?"
Dave shrugged casually. "Eh, I'm not that interesting." He spread his arms with a small grin. "What you see is what you get, you know?"
Kurt frowned. Had he been even a little more ignorant, he might have been completely fooled. But not now, not ever again. "Okay, at this point, that is so obviously untrue that I'm actually insulted." The grin melted from Dave's face. "For what it's worth, I've been out and openly interested in gay culture for years now, and I never pegged you. Not once." An interesting mix of reactions flickered from the other side of the table. "I'm sorry for all the forces in your life that made you feel like you were forced to hide, but believe me, I know enough about the dark side of humanity to make me the last person who'll judge you for doing so. Who knows — maybe if things had been different, I'd be doing the same. But I never had much of a choice about being open — people were assuming anyway — so I decided to just own it. You have to do right by you. I can't tell you how to live your life..."
The thought brought him up short. Here he was, preaching about how he respected the life choices of others, yet he was trying to basically prod Dave into doing something he clearly didn't want to do — with an ulterior motive, at that. On the other hand, he remembered — remembered what it was like suppressing his true self, his true passions, out of fear of how others would react. It was hell — honestly hell. He still clearly remembered the nights he spent laying awake in bed, wondering if he could get through one more day... How could he wish that kind of self-inflicted prison on anyone?
Maybe this was an opportunity to resolve that dilemma. Maybe if he opened up to Dave, Dave would begin to feel comfortable enough to do the same, and allow Kurt to figure out the best way to proceed. Because he knew now, with stone cold certainty, that he wouldn't throw Dave Karofsky to the wolves, not even for an eternal A. (The fact that he was now fascinated by all the secrets and complexity Dave was apparently keeping, and was yearning to find out more, was, of course, completely irrelevant.)
"... But," he managed to continue, "I can still give friendly advice." He smiled. "I'm a bit of a meddler that way."
"I knew it," Dave said with a chuckle. "I always thought you were a nosy, meddling fucker."
"Hey!"
"Nah, don't get your panties in a wad, fancypants — that's just part of your charm!"
"Well! I don't know whether to be flattered or insulted!"
"Maybe both?"
The two laughed. But Kurt's memories would return to this conversation many times later on, and every time, he'd reprove himself for not even suspecting.
Rachel was still pouting.
"For the last time," Kurt said with a sigh, "I didn't know you wanted to do that song."
"Oh, no, no, I understand," Rachel said as she crossed her arms with a long suffering, put-upon expression. "Go ahead. Take that song that I've always dreamed of singing in a romantic duet with my husband-to-be. I'll just sit in the audience, and listen, and wonder what could've been..."
Kurt felt like smacking someone in the face — whether Rachel or himself was a 50/50 proposition. Why did performing arts majors have to be so... so... dramatic? And it wasn't like this was a major performance, for God's sake — it was just a public mini-recital of sorts, meant to loosen everyone up and get them ready for the real ones later on in the year. Yet here Rachel was, treating it as though it were opening night at the Winter Garden.
"I'm sure your future husband won't mind if I sing it just this once," Kurt said, his voice teetering on the knife's edge between soothing and venomous. It took conscious effort to suppress the urge to ask her if she ever actually paid attention to the lyrics of her perfect romantic duet. "It's too late to do anything about it, anyway, and it's my turn in five minutes. So let's just drop it for now and we can talk about your future courtship later, all right?"
"Of course. I'll leave you alone. With your song. Break a leg." The wish was just sarcastic enough to make Kurt wonder, but he didn't have time to mentally process anything before Rachel wandered away. He breathed a sigh of relief. Why did other people have to be so tiring?
"Next!" Ms. July's strident voice instantly jolted his spine with energy — both the adrenaline of being about to step on stage and, honestly, sheer terror. He hadn't known that "she's mean because she cares" was actually a thing, and not just an excuse to be an asshole, until he met Ms. July. Whether that made it easier or harder on her students was a question Kurt had still not resolved.
He quickly strode out onto the stage, into the warmth of the waiting lights. He took a split second to drink it all in: the excitement, the tension, the eyes out there in the dark, focused on you... It was exhilarating.
As his own eyes adjusted, the first face he made out in the audience was, of course, Ms. July, already boring holes into his frontal lobe with her stare. The rest of his classmates came into focus, including Rachel, who was saying something to... Finn, one of the only people not in performing arts present. Huh. He'd promised to come to one of Kurt's performances one of these days, but he had absolutely no idea who he was actually there for. The way he waved her off, though, gesturing towards the stage, was an encouraging sign.
The piano struck up, and all of Kurt's speculation was washed away.
I know there's something in the wake of your smile...
I get a notion from the look in your eyes...
It was from a random video on YouTube that he got the idea to do this song for the mini-recital. It brought up memories of listening to the radio with his father on long drives, which was a somewhat more substantial connection for him than Rachel's, as far as he was concerned. So really, his claim was far greater than hers.
The precious moments are all lost in the tide...
They're swept away and nothing is what is seems...
He was preparing his throat for the next repetition of the chorus when the corner of his eye caught a door in the back of the theater opening. Silhouetted for a brief moment in the frame of light was a tall, burly figure — one he instantly knew, for it had haunted his thoughts like a drumbeat over the past month.
He nearly stumbled over the next notes.
Listen to your heart when he's calling for you...
Listen to your heart there's nothing else you can do...
Although he continued his performance, his eyes remained focused on Dave. He stood in the doorway for a moment, watching and listening. Then that old familiar smirk plastered onto his face, as if he'd just put on a mask. He strolled down the aisle until he got to Finn's and Rachel's row. There he scooted past the few people seated in between, leaving a trail of annoyed glares behind him. He sat down next to Finn; the two fist-bumped. Finn said something in Dave's ear and gestured towards the stage, much as he had with Rachel. Dave nodded, but his own gesture felt absent. Kurt barely managed to remember the next lines.
And there are voices that want to be heard...
So much to mention but you can't find the words...
Dave's attention was back on the stage now. He and Finn were now twins of rapt attention. Even Rachel's brow had relaxed, just a little bit. But Kurt's mind was buffeted with questions, so many questions...
Listen to your heart when he's calling for you...
Listen to your heart — there's nothing else you can do...
As he reached the emotional climax of the song, Kurt was getting carried away on the music, as he usually was. Nevertheless, some part of him refused to take his eyes off Dave, as if staring alone would reveal answers. Of course, the hope was in vain.
I don't know where you're going and I don't know why...
But listen to your heart before you tell him goodbye...
As soon as the music faded away, he was met by applause, some of it polite, some of it genuine. One of the genuine ones, Finn, let out a piercing whistle. Dave was applauding, but his sincerity wasn't entirely clear from this distance. Ms. July, per normal, said nothing, instead writing in a notebook. Kurt felt a stab of dread; even this relatively short way through his first term, he already knew the pain that normally accompanied a Cassandra July critique. Not that any of her thoughts were usually wrong, but they were not sugar coated. At all. In fact, they were normally coated with chili powder and rusty nails. One thing Ms. July had going as a teacher: you always remembered her critiques.
"Next!" she barked. But that wasn't the only reason Kurt was eager to get off that stage — not by far. He made a beeline for the central aisle as the next student, a chipper girl named Jane, replaced him onstage. He slid down a row of seats until he finally took the empty spot next to Rachel (quite unwillingly; considering the sideways glares she was still giving him, he would've much rather sat next to Dave — not to interrogate him, no, of course not).
His impatience was tempered by actually managing to get into the performances of his classmates: admiring the good while whispering snarky comments to Rachel about the bad (who giggled along with him, actually loosening up as the recital went on). After the last student left the stage, Ms. July stood and turned to the gathered classes. "That's it," she announced. "I'll be sending out emails in the next day or so. I suggest you read them as soon as you get them if you know what's good for you." There were more than a few worried glances exchanged around Kurt. "Dismissed."
Where there was once music, there was now the zipping of backpacks and the low buzz of chatter. Finn and Rachel immediately turned to each other and started talking about something that Kurt didn't care enough to pay attention to; he was too busy squeezing past them. By the time he succeeded (damn, he'd forgotten just how big Finn was), Dave was already in the aisle, stalking towards the exit.
"Hey!" Kurt called out. Dave froze, then slowly turned.
"Hey." He looked around; Kurt did so as well. The auditorium was now mostly empty; those remaining, like Finn and Rachel, were paying absolutely no attention to them. Seeing this seemed to buoy Dave, for he returned his focus to Kurt and said, "You were really good."
"Thanks." There was a brief silence; he could hear Rachel asking Finn if he owned a coat and tie. "I'm a little surprised to see you here."
Dave rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, you're doing me a favor, so I thought I should return it."
"You don't need to feel obligated to me. As I've said before, I'm not doing this to be repaid."
"It wasn't just that. You said this was your dream, so... I wanted to see it for myself." He shrugged, leaving Kurt utterly clueless on what he was feeling at that moment, or what he was supposed to feel. "See if you were good enough," he added with a grin.
Kurt snorted; unlike... before, he knew exactly how seriously Dave meant his little jab. "Then I'm glad you liked what you saw. Or heard, anyway."
Dave coughed; he took a second to recover before he spoke again. "I said I did, didn't I?"
"So you told Finn you were here to see him? And listening to me was just a neat coincidence?"
Dave glanced over Kurt's shoulder, in the direction of the aforementioned Finn Hudson, before nodding. "Yeah. He said he was coming to this, which is how I knew about it to start with. I pretended I had to ask him something about the weekend." Another silence. "Look, I really appreciate—"
Kurt sighed. "I'd really appreciate it if you'd take my silence as something that has nothing to do with you. Remember, I'm only going along with this tutoring thing because you wanted to do something for me to feel better."
"Okay. All right." Dave took in a breath. "Anyway, yeah... You were good. I think you can be a star, if that's what you want."
"Well... thank you. Because it is." There was another awkward silence; Kurt absently noted that the two of them seemed to spend as much time in those as they did talking.
"So... I gotta go." Dave stuck his hands in his coat pockets. "See you tomorrow?"
"Until tomorrow." He watched Dave leave, wondering just what on Earth that was all about...
"Popcorn?" Dave said with a raised eyebrow as Kurt opened up his duffel bag. "I thought you'd be too much of a goody two shoes to sneak food into the library."
Kurt shrugged. "I've been learning a lot from you, so I thought this might help the time pass more easily. Besides, it's the Christmas season, so I thought a treat would be nice. I hate microwave popcorn, but it was the best I could do. Hope you don't mind."
"You kidding? Of course not." Kurt ripped open the bag of popcorn; steam wafted out. "How the hell is that still hot?"
Kurt smiled inscrutably as he poured the popcorn into a bowl he'd also brought along for the occasion. "That's my secret."
The next few minutes passed in companionable quiet, broken only by the sound of crunching popcorn and Dave tapping his pen against the table as he read over Kurt's homework. "You're really getting it, Kurt. I think you're gonna ace that test."
"That's really good to hear. Seriously."
"Hey, you did all the heavy lifting; I just helped."
"But without that help, I still wouldn't be as far as I am right now, so be proud."
Dave popped a few kernels into his mouth. "Well, you should still be proud yourself. You're almost out of Schuester's class. Maybe you should come by the frat house sometime to celebrate. When we're having a party, I mean."
Kurt paused a moment to gather his thoughts; here was the sticky moment he'd been anticipating for the past two weeks. "Well, actually... I've signed up for another one of his electives for next term."
Dave raised both eyebrows. "Really? Why?"
Of course, Kurt couldn't tell him the actual reasons why: I need the opportunity for the eternal A Schuester promised me. I need an excuse to keep meeting with you, so I can figure out what's going on with you — for my own peace of mind as well as Schuester's. I just can't figure you out, Dave Karofsky, and I have to know... "For the same reasons I signed up for this one to begin with: because it doesn't conflict with any of my other classes, and meets at a decent hour of the day. Plus... Now that I've been working with you, I feel more confident in my abilities now. I think I can handle another term, thanks to you."
"... Wow."
"Hm?"
"I think this is, like, the most good I've done in anyone else's life... like, ever." Once more, those deeper shades that Kurt only barely understood, but even that bare understanding was enough. "Anyway..." Kurt could hear Dave trying to infuse as much normalcy into his voice as he could. "I'm glad I was able to help. At least now you don't need me." The tone was lighthearted, joking... Yet, Kurt knew, it wasn't. Why not?
It was, of course, only because of his curiosity that he immediately jumped in with, "Actually, there's no guarantee that Schuester won't lose me all over again next term. Do you mind if we... keep on meeting? Not necessarily for tutoring, but for... brush-up. To make sure I'm keeping up?"
"I... Sure! I mean, if you don't mind..."
"Dave, I was the one who asked. Of course I don't mind."
"Y-yeah. Right. Sorry." Dave stuffed a fistful of popcorn into his mouth. His eyes averted from Kurt's as he chewed; Kurt used the opportunity to gather his books and papers.
"So you think we'll be able to handle whatever Schuester teaches next term?"
Dave snorted. "Yeah. I told you, I'm good at math."
"That good?" The question was out of him before he could stop it, or even consider it. "So why aren't you taking any classes in it?" Dead silence. Even the chewing had stopped. "Do you like math?"
There was a hesitation before Dave answered. "Actually... Yeah. A lot."
"So why aren't you taking any math classes? Why are you majoring in phys ed instead?"
"You wouldn't understand."
"I don't understand now, Dave."
"I think you should mind your own goddamn business if you want me to tutor you." Dave rose; Kurt followed suit. He wasn't 100% sure how or why, but it was obvious he'd touched some kind of nerve.
"Dave—"
"Have a good vacation, Kurt." He disappeared into the stacks before Kurt could say another word, leaving him behind with a mostly empty bowl of quickly staling popcorn.
Kurt didn't curse often, but when he did, he felt it. "Shit."
Carole Hudson-Hummel was capable of spoiling her kids rotten when she felt like it. So, of course, their first Christmas home from college, she went all out.
"Holy sh— crap!" Finn gasped when he saw the feast spread out on the dining room table. "This is awesome, Mom!"
"Wipe your chin," Kurt said dryly.
"You think you boys can handle all this food?" Carole asked teasingly.
"Well, I know he can," Kurt said, cocking his head towards Finn. "But I think the rest of us can put a dent in it too."
Burt Hummel rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "I completely agree, son."
Just as they sat down, a shrill chime went off from Finn's pocket. Carole gave him a glare that could've melted steel. "Sorry!" Finn said. "Just let me answer it just once and I'll turn off the phone. Promise." He tapped quickly at his phone screen, then shoved it back into his pocket. "There. It's off. Sorry, Mom."
Her indignation waning, Carole started to pass around the plates. "Who was it that was so important you had to interrupt Christmas dinner? Your new girlfriend?"
"Mom! She's not my girlfriend. Not yet." Those last two words were mostly muttered under his breath as he scooped out a wad of mashed potatoes that might have rivaled basketballs in size. "Anyway, no, that was my friend Dave. He just wanted to say Merry Christmas."
A forkful of ham froze halfway between Kurt's plate and his mouth. His eyes darted about, but the rest of the table was oblivious.
"Oh?" Burt said absently as he buttered a freshly baked roll. "How is he?"
"Okay, I guess." Kurt's ears perked.
"You guess?"
"Yeah. He's been acting a little weird lately."
"Weird how?" It wasn't Burt who supplied the question this time; it was Kurt, and he barely thought before he said it.
Fortunately, Finn was too distracted by having accidentally poured way too much ranch dressing on his salad (at least Kurt hoped it was an accident) to notice any odd interest. "I dunno. He seems fine and normal, but... It's just a feeling. I can't explain it."
"So what's this friend of yours like?" Carole asked; Kurt gave her infinite mental gratitude for asking that innocent question.
"He's... he's just cool, y'know?" Finn said with a shrug as he shoveled a forkful of ham into his gaping maw.
"No, I don't," Carole replied, amused.
"Well..." Finn thankfully swallowed before speaking more. "He comes up real big at parties." His smile slipped on seeing his mother's face. "Which are totally cool. And tame. I hardly drink at all. Not that anyone else drinks...!"
"Go on," Carole said with a fond sigh.
"Well, uh, lessee... He's from Lima, he plays hockey... He's getting C's in all his classes..." Kurt wondered just how many times and to how many people Dave had said that. "But it's weird... I get the feeling he could do a lot better."
"Another feeling?" Kurt said thoughtfully. "Why's that?"
Finn shrugged helplessly. "I dunno. Maybe 'cause he's a good guy. He watched out for all the other pledges when we were rushing. Made sure they weren't pushed too far or anything."
Now that was an interesting fact. "Really?"
"Yeah, really," Finn said, apparently mistaking Kurt's interest for skepticism. "He said he was bullied a lot when he was a kid, so he was kind of an asshole in high school, so he wants to make up for it."
The plot, as they say, thickens. There was a lot more Kurt wanted to ask, but couldn't figure out how without arousing suspicion — assuming that Dave had told Finn anything relevant to begin with.
But for now, he partook of Carole's excellent dinner in appreciative silence. He'd have plenty of time to stew over Dave Karofsky later.
Plenty of time.
The rest of Christmas vacation, in fact.
It was maddening, really, the way Dave had gotten into Kurt's head. Kurt loved mysteries, loved puzzles, and here was a real live one, right in front of him. Seriously, Kurt understood very well that his life wasn't anyone else's, and he couldn't make judgments on others based on what he thought he'd do because of his own experiences, but still! Genius! He thought he had genius of his own in non-mathematical arenas, but to possess it and not enjoy it, not shout it to the heavens... The very concept was almost obscene to him.
It was with some trepidation that he arrived at the 8th Avenue Library the Tuesday after classes started again. He'd texted and e-mailed Dave beforehand, but gotten nothing but one word perfunctory replies back (the one exception was the message "i know get off my back already", at which point Kurt wisely did back off). Most of those replies consisted of the word "okay," which implied that he'd still take up the tutoring again... But that was only an implication.
Fortunately, their usual table wasn't occupied; on the rare occasions it was, they had to work a little to find another, and Kurt had the feeling that had Dave gotten there first, and seen someone there, he might've just left and not bothered. Hell, it might have already happened, for all he knew.
Kurt sat at the table and tapped at his phone. Nothing from Dave... He tried to occupy himself with a game, but it was difficult to concentrate. The hum of the heating system was mildly soothing, but not nearly enough to protect him from the speculations and questions that had been running around in his brain since he picked up that thrice-damned piece of paper.
So lost was he in his inner world, his mind's eye squinting desperately to see what was under that goddamn mask that Dave Karofsky wore, that he was actually startled when the real, actual, living Dave Karofsky threw himself into the chair on the other side of the table with a grunt.
"Hey."
"H-hey." Kurt took a moment to find his tongue again. "How was your break?"
Dave shrugged, keeping his arms crossed over his chest. "Okay. Usual. Older brother visited from California. Mom dragged us all to church Christmas morning. Got a bunch of presents, most of it stuff I didn't ask for." After that last word, the silence that dropped over the table was leaden.
Obviously, it was up to him to warm things up again. "I'm sorry," Kurt said; Dave looked up at him, looking almost startled. "I didn't mean to pry. If I go over the line again, just tell me, and I'll back off, okay?" No answer, but Dave didn't get up; in fact, he gave a small nod. That encouraged Kurt to move on. "Did Finn give you your Christmas gift yet?"
"How do you know about that?"
"I was with him at the video game store when he got it."
"Oh. Yeah, he did. He's a cool guy. Better than any of my friends in high school." Dave's shoulders hunched. "Probably the best I've ever had."
Under other circumstances, Kurt might have pressed. But he knew better. "Mine went well. Seeing family again is always nice." Dave grunted. "Oh, speaking of friends, my friend Blaine asked about you recently."
Dave looked up with a suspicious glare. "Why?"
"He was just wondering if I'd talked to you lately. I told him nothing," Kurt hastened to add, even though he'd already said that to Dave before. "But..." He couldn't help but crack a smile. "He said if you were interested in getting coffee with him sometime..."
Dave's eyes widened. "Why the fuck would he want to?"
Kurt frowned. "Why not?"
"I mean... Look at me. I'm nothing like him. Or..." He waved a careless hand in Kurt's direction.
"So what? You don't think we're the template for all gay men, do you?" Silence. "Oh, God, you do, don't you?" He had to remind himself, Lima...
Dave had the good grace to look at least a little embarrassed. "Well... I mean... Most of the guys at that bar were kinda like you two..."
"And you haven't looked around on the Internet? At all?"
Dave flushed and shook his head. "Didn't want to risk it. My parents kept track, and..." He reddened further. "I figured it'd all be porn crap anyway..."
"No wonder you're still in the closet..." Kurt exhaled. "Okay. I can't speak for all gay men, but I can certainly speak for myself. With me, what you see is what you get, and I've been me for as long as I can remember. I didn't know there was anything 'unusual' about me at first, but I started getting the idea at a pretty young age. And it hurt, being me. I tried to hide, I tried to conform to what everyone else wanted and expected. But it got tiring. It got very tiring. And I hated every moment of it." Kurt's eyes were focused on his hands in front of him, lost in the memories, but he heard the rustling of Dave's clothing across from him. He hadn't consciously started with the intent of drawing the parallels he knew he was making, but now that he started, he was committed. And why not? "So in a sense, I... gave up. I gave up trying to please others. I gave up suppressing what I wanted. The only people whose opinions mattered to me... They supported me." Again, he heard Dave shift in his seat, and that opened memories and possibilities he hadn't thought about in quite a while. "And it made all the difference."
"You're so lucky." The words were a hoarse whisper, yet that's all it took to get Kurt's attention. Dave was staring down at his own hands on the table, fingers fidgeting and worrying at each other.
"I... I suppose I am, in a sense. But... sometimes we're not as alone as we think." Kurt looked at Dave — really looked at him this time. He was surprisingly... small, his posture and mood combining to shrink the burly athlete down to half his size. Kurt wondered again how he could've not seen this before. Was he really that blind? Then again, Dave likely had long practice in hiding. "What about you?"
"Hm?"
"When did you... know?"
Dave didn't move or speak, not for a long time. Finally, he sighed deeply, his eyes finally rising to meet Kurt's. "I guess... I guess I always did. When all your friends are straight, it's kinda hard to miss, y'know?" Kurt nodded encouragingly. "But I was in denial for a really long time. Lima... and my parents..." Dave's hands squeezed against each other atop the table, so hard that they turned white knuckled. "But it sorta got to the point where I couldn't ignore it anymore. When you're thinking about guys when you... you know, do that... it's kinda stupid to keep denying it."
"How did you handle it?" Kurt asked quietly. He knew he was diving into some deep waters here, but he couldn't stop himself, not when Dave seemed to be responding. Besides, he was always genuinely curious about the experiences of other gay youth, and here was a perfect opportunity to learn more.
"Bad. I was already kinda overcompensating because of... other stuff..." He ran his fingers through his hair. "It took me my entire senior year to get my head screwed on straight and stop taking my problems out on other people. I did... I did a lot of things I'm really not proud of, and I'm still trying to make up for that..." So I've heard. Kurt managed to think it, but not say it. "That night at the bar was the most, uh, gay thing I've ever actually done. Kinda pathetic, huh?"
"Not at all. You do you. You have to go at your own pace. But in my opinion, having that as your first gay activity is kind of... brave."
Dave blinked. "R-really?"
"I think so. It's a huge first step, and you took it, despite your fear. There's a lot you can learn from that." It did not escape Kurt that Dave seemed more comfortable talking about his sexuality than his math skills. He wondered if it meant anything. Either way, he could already tell that the mood needed a little lightening; they had the rest of the year to figure this out anyway. "Speaking of learning, I hope you're ready to help me, because I've only had one math class, and I can already tell Professor Schuester isn't going to let up on the pace."
All tension and doubt fell away from Dave, so completely and quickly that Kurt had to marvel at it. Perhaps this was the reason he was continuing with the tutoring. "Okay, lemme see the syllabus... All right, it's pretty simple, basic stuff..."
"Simple? Basic?! Maybe to you!"
"Hey, it's a fucking freshman level elective. What did you expect him to teach, P versus NP? There's nothing wrong with starting slow."
"That's the problem. I've had trouble even with 'slow'..."
"Look, dude, you memorize songs, right? You belt 'em out live even when there's, like, a hundred people staring at you, right? I sure as hell can't do that. You gotta go at your own pace. You just told me that, remember?" So he did. Huh. "You can learn this shit same way you learn new songs. You already did it last term. Besides, do you worry about how good your friends sing in class, or do you just pay attention to yourself? Just... stay cool and work at it, and you're gonna do fine. Promise."
Kurt was... Huh. He actually felt reassured. Maybe it was the confidence in Dave's voice — quiet but unmistakable. Maybe it was the fact that the confidence had absolutely nothing to do with his own skills, but Kurt's. Maybe it was both. Kurt found himself nodding. "Okay. Then let's get started."
