A/N: What's this, could it be some angst? And the blossoming of romance? Yep, we're getting to the juicy stuff here! Hope you'll like it! Special Canadian thanks to boldlikeblack, for letting me borrow the hockey idea, idea that released me from a growing case of writer's block (block that wasn't helped by the "Furt" episode at all)! Also, finals and term papers are just around the corner for me, which explains partially the longer wait since last chapter. It might be a while before the next one as well, sorry! But Blaine will be back in the next one!
Marilyn: I kept your recommendation in mind while writing this chapter. To answer your questions, no, I didn't have a Kurt-related ship prior to Dave. I usually stick to canon couples; I have little imagination on these matters. I'm not really a fan of couples that could never be in the series, it gets frustrating! About Kurt/Dave really happening on Glee, I'm not sure. I feel it wouldn't be believable in the context (that's why my fic is set later!), even if I think they would be great to watch (Kurt helping Dave come out, gaining some self-confidence in the process, having the power balance switched between them, etc.). Either way, I don't think Blaine and Kurt would be good together. Blaine is way too mature for Kurt, and they are too alike. There wouldn't be any challenge or interest in a couple like that. If he just keeps mentoring him, I'll be happy. Anyway, I won't complain if he sticks around, he's so yummy and sweet! Regarding your second comment, no worry, I have some cute/sexy moments planned… And yes, I speak French fluently, like I mentioned it's my mother tongue! I actually tutor in French so if you ever need help…
For a second, Dave wonders if he imagined the knock. Granted, the incessant wailing coming from Chloe isn't making it easy to hear, but the shrill sound of the doorbell clears up any doubt and he rushes to the door, glad for the diversion.
Kurt is standing on the other side, looking his usual stylish self. He peeks over the jock's shoulder with a quizzical look. His face goes from taken aback to downright worried when a cry of epic proportion reaches the entrance.
"Hi, come in…" Dave says quickly. He notices Kurt's look and addresses it as he gestures him in. "Yeah, sorry for that noise. Guess that'll be your first impression of Chloe!" He grabs his bag and puts it on the table by the door. "We'll be gone in a few a minutes. You want something to drink?" he asks.
"Ehh, what? Wait a minute. Go back to that Chloe and that ruckus I just walked into, please!"
Dave laughs joyously at Kurt's lost expression and motions him to a kitchen chair. He sits down too, regaining his composure. "Fine… That lovely "screamster" is Chloe, my roommate's daughter. 3 years old and very vocal!" As if on cue, a piercing yell, sharp and short, resonates throughout the apartment. Unabashed, Dave gets up and walks to the fridge, pulling out a carton of apple juice. He fills a glass, shaking the carton in front of Kurt, who shakes his head "no".
"And there's nothing to do about that yelling?" he asks, clearly uncomfortable.
Dave leans against the counter and takes a sip before explaining. "Nope, just wait a few minutes, you'll see." he replies to a bewildered Kurt. The screams go on, varying in range and frequency but not in strength. A rattle of keys can then be heard, mostly just by Dave who's sitting closer to the front door. It opens and Kara comes in, hollering "I'm home, d… it!" She unceremoniously drops her briefcase, purse and keys on the table door before sitting heavily on the nearest chair.
"Shit, that fucking day just wouldn't fucking end…" she breathes. She then notices Kurt and look questioningly at her roommate. A strange silence ensues, and that's when the guys suddenly realize that there is silence. A characteristic pace stomping the hallway breaks it though. Kurt can barely register seeing a blonde chubby girl running behind him before she jumps in her mom's arms with a gleeful "Mommy!" Kara holds her tightly and playfully buries her nose in the soft curls.
Kurt watches them, amazed. There is no sign of distress whatsoever on the little girl's face. He hears Dave answer his silent question. "Exactly. It's all a big act. I used to fuss over her every time. It took me a while to realize that she's just pouting because mommy's late! By the way, Kara, meet Kurt. Kurt, Kara." He adds, motioning to each of them.
Kara nods her head, the only movement the girl clinging to her neck allows her to make. Kurt simply smiles at her and rises. Dave mimics him and, after putting his glass in the sink, heads for the front door, dragging his friend on the way.
Once outside, Kurt seems to relax, speaking for the first time in several minutes. "Okay… That was unexpected, to say the least!" he scoffs. "You, big bad Karofsky, playing house with a disturbing girl and her toddler! How did that, living arrangement I guess, came to be?" Dave stares at him, unsure whether he should feel insulted, finally deciding against it. "No need to poison the evening." he thinks.
"Well, do you want the long story?" He begins to walk down the street and Kurt makes a few quick steps to catch up with him.
"It depends." he answers, a little breathless. "You're the one who knows where we're going, do we have the time for it?"
"Sure, if you don't mind walking." He looks sideways at the young man, instinctively slowing his pace to match his. Big legs used to long strokes on the ice are no match for these slim dancer legs.
"No problem, except this better be interesting!" he replies excitedly.
"I'll do my best to entertain…" Dave promises. "So, when I first got here, I lived in the dorms. All in all it was okay, but after a year, I sorta wanted a quieter place, someplace I could make my own too…"
While they stroll down the street, Dave narrates the unusual story of Kara and him. He tells Kurt of the day he first met her. She was kicking the crap out of the punching bag that was hanging next to the spot where he was doing his push-ups. Impossible to not notice her, as she was seven months pregnant and pissed off in a major way. She was punctuating each blow with a curse, a different one every time. It took him a few seconds to see that, while she seemed furious, her eyes were also brimmed with tears. That's when he got up and held the bag, preventing it from swaying everywhere. She didn't say anything, but after a minute or so of kicks and punches, she collapsed on the floor and thanked him, panting. They had met again, bumping into each other while exiting the gym. Since she was clearly still upset, he had invited her for a drink. Several tequila shots later (for him, she stuck with ginger ale), they were much better acquainted.
"And that's how we met." Dave continues. "Turns out she had moved to New York a year before, with her boyfriend. She is a paralegal and she had just gotten a job with a big firm. She got pregnant, everybody was happy. That's where she made friends with Lily."
"Let me guess." cuts Kurt. "Slutty coworker, stole her boyfriend the minute she met him?"
"Yeah, pretty much. Guess it's a common story…" Dave sighs. "Anyway, she was all alone in that apartment, I was looking to get out of the whole "frat feeling" of my dorm, it just made sense to move in together. I mean, she can afford it by herself but I think she likes having someone she can count on near." he shrugs.
"So, you wanted quieter and you moved in with a pregnant woman? You did realize back then that it meant that a baby would be there eventually?" Kurt points out, a smirk on his face.
"Haha, very funny" he retorts, deadpan. "Of course I knew! But I figured it wouldn't be so bad. And really, it isn't, most days. Chloe can be a sweetie!" he assures him.
"Fine, if you say so. I'll still wait to see it for myself; so far she's a scamp!" he exclaims. Looking around him, he notices that the conversation has run for a while and that they're at least 10 blocks down on 6th Avenue. He stops Dave with a hand on his sleeve. "Wait a minute. You never told me what you were going to show me tonight…" He's amused to see the jock actually redden a little. He's even bouncing his weight from one foot to the other. Cute goes through Kurt's mind, too fast to be prevented.
"Is it okay if it stays a surprise? But I can tell you that two of the stops are sort of mandatory in New York, and the third is…, well, a special place to me." Dave explains with a half-smile. They resume their walk and after a left turn, Kurt's eyes catch sight of enormous orange letters.
He freezes in front of the restaurant, pleading Dave who's now tugging him inside. "Come on Karofsky, you can't be serious! I can't put that sort of food in me. It will wreak havoc on my complexion!"
"Quit being such a girl, Kurt, you're not a New Yorker until you eat a mustard-sauerkraut hot-dog from Gray's Papaya! And I told you, it's Dave!" Dave counters, basically pulling him up to the counter.
After many minutes spent in debate on the caloric and fat content of the menu, they finally manage to get out of the fast-food. Dave proudly smiles and munches happily on his hot-dog, while Kurt wrinkles his nose and tentatively takes a bite. He has to admit, it's pretty good. He feels Dave's eyes on him, gauging his reaction. Forcing all dietary thoughts to the back of his mind, he quickly eats the food, savoring it in spite of himself. He glances at him while licking his fingers, only to see that Dave's occupied with the same task. He pulls his index from his mouth, takes out his handkerchief and dutifully wipes his hands, looking very much absorbed.
Dave clears his throat, and, sensing the beginning of an awkward moment, nudges Kurt lightly. "Come on" he says softly, "we should hurry up or else we're gonna be late." He makes a zipping motion over his mouth, effectively silencing Kurt's questions.
They come down 7th Avenue and turn on 31st street and immediately the young man sees it. "Madison Square Garden? " he questions. "I thought the whole idea behind this was taking me to places I wouldn't go. And I've been to 4 shows since my arrival!"
"Not this kind of show." Dave says, handing him his ticket. "Rangers/Montreal preseason game." Kurt reads aloud. "A hockey game, really? That's mandatory?" There's a hint of sarcasm that suddenly sets Dave off.
"Look man, I'm trying here! If you weren't so against everything, you could actually enjoy it!" he lashes out. Kurt, quite unsettled by the outburst, takes a step back. Dave runs his hand through his short hair and sighs loudly. "Sorry man" he says in a calmer tone, "I didn't mean it like that. I know sports aren't your thing, but if you bear with me, I thought about some points that I think you'll like."
Kurt looks at him for a second and smiles, a reassuring grin that relaxes the mood in an instant. Twenty minutes later (a lot of people to navigate through, plus there was the need to stop for snacks), they are seated among the legion of over-excited fans.
"Okay, first off, you have to get in the mood." Dave starts off. At the same time, the lights go down and the player's presentation begins. He has to basically scream in his ear to be heard over the announcer and fans. "That's what I'm talking about! Getting pumped is vital to have fun!" He gets up in a flash, clapping loudly. When his eyes go down, he sees that Kurt is still sit, a mix of boredom and worry visible in his eyes. He stops applauding and yanks the small guy up. "Look, I know it's a stretch, but try this."
He shoves his bag of popcorn in Kurt's hands and pulls him close to him. He can't help smelling his fresh scent in the passing. "You're not going to think about that." he tells himself. He leans and explains his theory to the young man. "You like music. Ever been to a club?" he asks. A nod, he continues. "Well, it's the same energy here. Can you feel it in your hands, that pulsing? It's like in a bar, when you can feel the music in your chest better than in your ears. Same thing, I tell you." He lets go of him and searches his face. The realization dawns on the singer's face and, seeing him laugh, Dave laughs too.
Three hours later, they exit the stadium, the fresh and humid air a very welcome feeling on their faces. Kurt pulls out his hankie, dabbing his red face lightly. "Dave, thank you for that. I can't say if I'll do that again, but it was a very unique and exhilarating experience!" he says.
"I knew you'd end up having fun! But it helped that it was the preseason. The fans, the players, everybody is more relaxed and just there to have fun. It's like they all missed each other and are happy to see each other. Unfortunately, it does get uglier real fast after that." Karofsky concedes.
They take a few steps, moving away from the sea of spectators still lingering. The adrenaline is wearing off and Kurt stifles a yawn in extremis. As weird as it is to admit it, he doesn't want to go home just yet. This Karofsky is fun to hang with. He looks at him with expectant eyes. "What's the third place?" he asks. Dave smiles knowingly and pushes Kurt slightly towards 8th Avenue. "I'm not telling you, let's see if you can be three for three tonight. Go on, it's not far."
For a while, they walk silently, with Kurt twisting his head in every direction to examine every high rise, trying to guess which one could mean anything to the jock. He looks at Dave whenever he thinks he found it and gets a funny feeling each time their eyes meet. Dave shakes his head in denial, but the flutter inside doesn't sway. Finally, a tall glass-covered building catches his attention. "The New York Times?" he tries, hesitant. Nod of approval confirms his guess. He wouldn't have thought about that one.
"Yeah. I interned there last summer." Dave says. "It was amazing. I mean, lots of people think that the news industry is a sell-out one, full of bribes and lies. Yeah, it's sorta true, journalists can abuse the system. But I don't care; I'm not going to be like that. And if it's naive to think like that, so be it. It's just, you get to learn so much, doing that job. The travel, the persons you get to meet. What you do with the information is up to you. I know I just want to help people experience and understand things better." He looks up, contemplating the elegant letters on the building, the words that represent all his ambitions…
There's a glimmer in Dave's eyes, one that makes it impossible for Kurt to stop staring at them. "He looks so passionate, so enthralled… "he secretly thinks. Suddenly, the slightly accelerated breathing of that man next to him becomes the only sound he can hear.
And sure, it's foolish. Sure, there's no way he should ever feel this temptation towards him. Of course, he shouldn't grab Dave's shoulder and turn him in his direction…. But he does it anyway. Next thing he knows, his hand tugs at his collar and a second later their lips are crushed together.
Dave's breath gets caught in his throat as all his world is all of sudden filled with Kurt. Whatever thought he had previously disappears, only instincts remain. He senses everything that is him, the sugary taste of his plump mouth, the roughness of his wool coat under his fingers, the saline smell of his hair gel. He moans gently when he feels Kurt's hands circle his neck, while his come to rest on his waist, convulsively gripping it.
The younger man shuts down his mind and gets lost in the heat of the moment. While he never thought there would be a world where he would willingly kiss Karofsky (no, Dave), reason doesn't have its place here. Besides, he can't help the rush of desire that nearly overwhelms him now. He slips his tongue inside Dave's mouth, feels the jock reciprocate and presses himself closer, only to be pushed away hastily, much to his surprise.
He stares at Dave, who's very still and in a similar flushed state than he is (probably). "What's going on?" he asks. "It's okay, I want to, you… "
"No, don't, we can't…, it's not like that, I…" Dave cuts him, stammering, unable to string words in a coherent way. Fear, almost terror starts to rise at the back of his mind. "No, no, no!" he thinks when he sees the quick succession of frustration, incomprehension, doubt and finally anger flash over Kurt's features. An explanation starts to precipitate itself against his lips, but he doesn't get the chance to voice it.
"Fine, don't bother, I get it." Kurt hisses, lips barely moving. With a swift turn of the heels, he walks away.
In an act mirroring one that he wishes he could forget Dave punches the nearby mailbox, denting it. The cold metal breaks the skin on his knuckles and he inhales sharply. The pain makes his mouth fill with saliva, and fury. Fury directed at him, a disappointment he hadn't felt in years. He watches Kurt go down the street. Part of him is screaming to go get him, make him understand. That part doesn't win tonight. He tears his eyes off him and, head hung low, starts walking towards his apartment.
A/N (2): I just want to say that I've never been to NY, my source for this chapter was Google, so if there are any blatant mistakes, please point them out to me. And I know the Rangers don't play before October, but I needed them to so there it is!