Story: Someone Like You – 6/8
Fandom: Glee – Written for the Kurtofsky Reverse Bang
Author: ibshafer
Rating: R – for language and non-explicit sexual situations
Characters: Kurt, Dave, Blaine, "OC" Gwen
Disclaimer: I don't own these people, they own themselves and are just nice enough to let me spin them around the page now and then.
Summary: [Written for the kurtofskyrebang using jennybliss's art and story concept.] In the end, Kurt got everything he wanted out of life and Dave fulfilled his own dreams, so why aren't they happy? A chance encounter in NYC brings the boys together again after many years. Can they help each other deal with their pasts (and their futures) and finally figure out what they truly need to be happy?
Length: 30,000+
Feedback: Yes, of course! I'm like Tinkerbell (and Rachel Berry) – I need your applause (and hopefully not your rotten tomatoes!) to live…
HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY, PIRATES!: Posting early today in celebration of the day and in the hopes that we will see our Pirate leader wearing his heart on his sleeve tonight on Glee. (And not getting his hopes too badly dashed in the process…)
Someone Like You – 6/8
~ibshafer
[From the previous part…]
Never mind that the kiss itself lasted no more than 10 seconds.
Never mind that Dave made Kurt promise he would never do it again.
Never mind that Dave helped Kurt pack up the blanket and basket then left him standing there without saying another word.
It also didn't matter that of the scores of people who saw them that day, there were one or two who actually knew who they were.
No, all that really mattered was the kiss itself.
Dave just didn't know it yet.
[SECTION BREAK]
"Everything all right, Boss-man?"
Celie had passed by his office and seen him absently staring out the window.
"Yeah," he said, clearing his throat. "Why do you ask?"
She shrugged, her pixie face pinching into a frown. "No reason, I guess. Just that you've been stuck in the office a lot lately. It's not like you."
"Working in my office isn't like me," he asked, tone cool, but he knew what she was getting at. He hadn't gone out for lunch in over a week.
"That's not what I meant," she said, scowling at him, but he could see the concern in her eyes. "You didn't have a fight with your friend, Kurt, did you?"
He caught his jaw a split second before it dropped; it was an innocent enough question.
Cee, the whole office, really, had gotten accustomed to his routine. He had been meeting Kurt for lunch for several weeks now. (Kurt had only come by once more to pick Dave up, but true to his word, he had arrived with a beautiful blond woman on his arm – thankfully, he'd spared them all the waiting room make-out session…)
Did he and Kurt have a fight?
Hard to know what to call what they'd had…
"Nah," Dave said with a guarded frown. "He's just been really busy with work, that's all."
Celie nodded as though she only half believed him.
"Well, at least you guys had that nice picnic in the park last weekend," she said, smiling.
Wait – what? How did she…
He'd been happy to accept Kurt's invite, even though he'd known he'd have to finally share the rest of his "story" with the man (as much of a disaster as that had turned out to be), but they'd made those plans outside of the office. How could little Miss In-My-Biz have known? And what was she thinking about what she knew?
Straight men don't invite other straight men for picnics, Fancy…
She must have seen the expression on his face – which he could only guess was pretty telling – because she continued her explanation.
"Miri and I were taking a run through the park a couple Saturdays ago and we saw you guys. You looked deep in conversation so we didn't interrupt you. Looked like a yummy lunch, though." She grinned. "I don't know why men don't picnic more often."
She stood smiling in the doorway, eyes intent on him for a moment longer than he was comfortable with, then she winked and backed out of his office.
Dave was just wondering what she'd seen that day when his iPhone went off in his pocket, scaring the crap out of him. Swearing softly, he fished the thing out and slapped it down on the desk.
Outside his office door, he heard Celie giggle.
Calm the hell down, Karofsky…
On his feet now, Dave stalked to the door and closed it, then retrieved the message.
'Meet me in the park at noon? I promise to keep my lips to myself.'
Dave swore under his breath, then sat with his finger poised over the screen, unsure how to answer.
He had a million things to do today. Gwen was heading out of town for business, with Blaine, actually, and she'd given him a list a mile long.
He and Kurt were going to have to talk at some point, though. Might as well get it over with…
Muttering to himself, he typed a response. 'I'm gonna hold you to that.'
[SECTION BREAK]
The October air was crisp, the sky a dramatic palette of grays.
Kurt watched as the wind picked up, drawing scattered leaves in reds and golds and ochers toward the sky where they stood out against the billows of blue/grey like sparks. It made him itch for a sketchpad; certainly, at some point in his career, he might need to design a kimono.
Delighted, he watched the leaves chase each other down the footpath and across the fields, until his gaze lit upon the tree under which he and Dave had spread their picnic and his heart seized in his chest.
He'd called Dave and asked him to join him here (at "their" bench), but he wasn't quite delusional enough to take Dave's assent as a good sign.
The irony of them once again being at an impasse – over a kiss – was not lost on him.
Kurt had given in to an impulse and while he could certainly appeal to Dave's sense of history in begging his forgiveness, he somehow doubted that would fly with the man. This time there were different things at stake, things that involved other people, innocent people. Kurt understood that.
Knowing he had a knack for belaboring any and all points, for saying five times as much when half was called for, he was hoping a more stripped down approach would work.
The truth was he missed Dave horribly and he wanted him back, in whatever capacity the man would agree to, as soon as possible.
Not even his own work schedule (Dave hadn't been wrong about the two shows and the costume institute) could fill the black void in his personal life where the supposed love ofhis life used to be, now even more so with Blaine's business trip to Los Angeles coming up. It might be unfair to expect Dave, who had a life and a career of his own, to fill that void, but Kurt hadn't felt that Dave had minded in any way.
They werefriends. They were good friends.
Kurt just wanted that back.
If he believed there was more than that under the surface if Dave would only just let himself feel it, well that was Kurt's prerogative.
[SECTION BREAK]
In the distance, Dave saw Kurt sitting on their bench, and yes, he realized he sounded like some pathetic old romantic for even calling it that, but with hundreds of benches in Central Park, it was just easier to call it something. It was.
Kurt had his legs stretched out in front of him, but pulled them back quickly, folding them under the bench's wooden slats, when he saw Dave coming.
Dave sighed, feeling the hard knot of confusion in his chest start to spin. He'd been struggling with that pain there, so much like heartburn, but deeper and more insistent, since the moment Kurt had kissed him.
He knew what it meant; everything he'd been afraid of was happening.
It was high school all over again, except that this time it wasn't peer pressure keeping him from accepting who he was, it was his feelings for the woman who had saved him and changed him and somehow accepted him in spite of himself.
As much as he'd tried to control it, that control had proven futile in the face of a much stronger force.
He was falling for Kurt Hummel. Again.
The truth, though, was that it didn't matter what he wanted or even what he felt, there were other people involved here. He was committed to Gwen; he couldn't and wouldn't go back on that now.
Even though Kurt's lips had felt like a promise.
Even if Dave's heart had been beating against his rib cage like it was trying to escape.
There was right – and there was wrong.
Dave had lived too much of his life in the wrong; he wouldn't do it again.
As he drew closer he could see Kurt's pale cheeks flush and he just hoped that whatever the man had to say, he wouldn't try to convince Dave to do otherwise.
[SECTION BREAK]
Dave stood before him, cheeks ruddy in the cold air and mouth set in a hard, straight line.
"Before you say anything, David, I want to apologize to you again. Please, please believe how sorry I am. If it's at all reassuring to you, I didn't lure you to the park that day with an ulterior motive."
Dave seemed to hang onto the stern for a moment longer, then he softened, eyes crinkling at the corners. "I know that, Kurt," Dave said and Kurt was elated at the sound of relief he heard in Dave's voice.
Judging from the shadows under his eyes, similar to the ones Kurt had had until he'd groped for his concealer this morning, Dave had had a rough week, too.
There were a thousand things Kurt wanted to say to Dave right now, not the least of which was that that kiss may have been motivated by more than simple guilt and proximity, but he'd only just gotten the man to relax with him; he didn't want to undo that.
If his powers of persuasion weren't too rusty – and there was a brocade wholesaler on Canal Street who was probably still cursing his name – he hoped to have an opportunity for just such a conversation with Dave in the not too distant future.
In the meantime, David was still standing there on the footpath at what Kurt assumed Dave thought was a safe distance…
"Oh, for pity's sake, Dave, I'm not going to bite you."
Dave froze for a second, the way a kid with his hand in the cookie jar does when he knows he's been caught, and then he just shrugged.
"That's not what I heard about you, Fancy," he said. "I…um, I hear you're into that sort of thing…"
"Pfft," Kurt scoffed. "Only with people I do that sort of thing with, which you know, right now is kind of limited."
Was it Kurt's imagination or were Dave's cheeks flushed when he sat down next to him?
"That's better," Kurt said, trying to pretend he hadn't seen that as watched Dave get comfortable. Smiling, he took a deep breath. "So, I have an offer to make to you, again by way of apology, but you'd also really be helping me out." Dave eyed him sharply, but at least he didn't pull away. Cautiously optimistic, Kurt went on. "As you know, our not-insignificant-others are heading to Los Angeles in a couple days, which is all kinds of fabulous, especially if Blaine gets that movie role, but the timing of this trip has left me in kind of a bind."
Dave offered up another one of his confused half-smiles and god damn if Kurt's heart didn't skip a beat in his silly chest. Trying to ignore it, though it made him a little light-headed, Kurt soldiered on.
"Blaine and I were supposed to go to an opening at an art museum upstate this weekend; we won tickets at a charity auction for a meet-and-greet with the photographer…"
"Are…are you asking me to go to a museum with you, Kurt," Dave asked, eyebrows pinched. "You certainly don't need me to meet some photographer."
"Of course, I don't 'need' you to meet the photographer, Dave" Kurt said, rolling his eyes. "But judging from the framed and signed photographs in your office, I thought she might be someone you'd want to meet, too."
Dave stared at him for a second and then his eyebrows flew up.
"You're going to meet Hilla Becher?"
Kurt was nodding enthusiastically. "I am! And you are, too, if you come up with me." He grinned. "She hasn't had a show in the US for years, but the DIA Center in Beacon managed to talk her into a retrospective." Kurt clapped his hands together. "Oh, Dave, you have to see this place; it's a museum in an aging industrial complex! I'm guessing once she saw the location, she knew it was too perfect to pass up."
"You know, I met her once, when Bernd was still alive; they gave a lecture in Berlin. It was just fascinating. Their approach to each image…" Dave used his hands to mime the technique. "…the analysis, the measurement, the absolute precision – it's very much like the logic architects apply to design, only theBechers record the end of a structure's life cycle and we, the beginning."
Dave continued his musings on the Bechers' work and the nature of architecture and Kurt couldn't help but smile; this was exactly what he'd been hoping for.
Dave was usually in such tight control of his responses and his emotions, but when he was talking about his work, work that was as much art as was music or costume design, he came to life. It was that passion, buried so deeply when Dave had been a scared-straight high school student, which Kurt always sought out. It was what he loved most about him.
Kurt looked up to find Dave, who had been gesturing wildly towards a structure in the distance, suddenly regarding Kurt warily.
"What?" Kurt huffed once. "Can't I smile at a friend's enthusiasm? I'm sorry, but it's cute."
"My attention to detail and professional integrity are 'cute'?" Dave was still smiling, but Kurt could see him starting to get spooked.
Growling, he kicked Dave's foot. "Jeez, I told you I'm not going to try anything. I promise." Crossing his heart with his index finger, Kurt spat in the dirt, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, appalled. "Ugh! That was disgusting. Remind me never to do that again."
When he looked up Dave was just shaking his head. "You're a goofball, you know that?"
"You know, I do believe that's the first time anyone has ever called me that." Kurt said, sitting up straighter and grinning. "Is it a good thing? Should I add it to my resume?"
"Yes," Dave said, nodding sagely. "At the top, so it's the first thing anyone sees. In bold. And red. "
Kurt pulled out an imaginary pad of paper and mined writing. "'Pot calling kettle black.' Gotcha." Kurt stopped fake writing and smiled at him. "I've missed you, David. I've missed my friend."
Ducking his head awkwardly without breaking eye contact, Dave smiled in return. "Me, too, Fancy. Me, too."
Still smiling, Kurt looked away, rubbing at a spot just over his breast bone.
In the center of his chest, a hot little ember – no more than a speck, really – had started to burn. It'd been a very long time since he'd felt anything like it, but not so long that he didn't know what it meant.
Kurt was falling in love with Dave Karofsky.
tbc…
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