Dave wasn't sure how much time past, but it probably wasn't as long as he thought before he got another text. He got out of the car and saw that most of the house was dark. He walked over to the door and Kurt opened it before he could knock. Dave caught his breath.

Kurt was in a tight undershirt and dark blue drawstring pants, low enough on his hips that Dave could see the tops of his pale hip bones. But that wasn't even close to being the best part.

The best part was that Kurt was wearing his lettermen jacket. It was hanging off of his shoulders and it was a few inches long, but it looked good that way. It made it clear that it wasn't Kurt's lettermen, but that he was wrapped up in someone else's jacket. That he was someone else's. Kurt would probably be angry if he heard Dave say that, but all Dave could think was how nice it was to look at Kurt and be able to tell that they were together.

Kurt didn't seem to noticed how distracted Dave was.

"My bedroom's in the basement. Come on."

Dave noticed that Kurt's voice hadn't lost its quietly suffering quality, and he tried to pull himself away from the lustful thoughts. He followed Kurt down the stairs and closed the door behind them.

The room was kind of dark, with only one bedside light on. From what Dave could see, the room was very Kurt. There was a huge, soft comforter on the bed, which was made nicely, right down to the fluffy pillows. There was a nice desk, covered in neat stacks of papers and books. There was something that could have either been an ironing board or a surf board leaning against the wall, just outside of the glow of light.

The walls looked like they had posters hung up on them, but Dave couldn't really tell what they were. One had a vague outline of a green person in a witch's hat; and another had a man bent backwards in leather pants, holding a microphone. Dave had to squint at it, but he thought it was Freddy Mercury. The only other poster he could make out at all was one of Marilyn Munroe with her skirt flying.

After his quick survey of the room, Dave turned back to face Kurt. He was still standing wrapped up in the lettermen, and it made him look rather small. He had his arms crossed across his chest, and the lighting made it hard for Dave to see his face. He could tell the singer wasn't smiling, though.

"I'm sorry you had to hide under a table and that April almost saw you. I thought we were far enough away from Lima. I didn't mean to almost out you."

"I know that. Kurt, I'm not that mad at you. Its not your fault I'm a fucking closet case. I just wish I hadn't fucked up our date. I'm sorry. I'm so freaking sorry."

Dave moved forward and wrapped his arms around Kurt. The slim boy fell forward into his arms and Dave kissed his head. He rested with his lips in Kurt's hair for a minute. He moved closer to Kurt's forehead and nudged it forward with his nose. Then he planted a kiss on Kurt's forehead. Dave slid this hands down Kurt's back, then kissed him deeply on the mouth.

As he did, Dave moved his hands underneath the jacket and let his thumbs stroke Kurt's smile hip bones. He inhaled sharply at the contact. After a minute, they broke apart.

"Are you sure you aren't mad at me?" Kurt asked as he stroked Dave's chest over his jacket.

"I'm not mad at you." Dave confirmed again.

Kurt didn't look entirely satisfied, but he closed his hand around Dave's tie and pulled him back into a kiss. Their tongues slide past each other again and again, and moved from the slight roughness of tongue to the smoothness of the roof of their mouth, to the softness of each others lips.

After a moment, they broke for air and Dave moved to plant kisses on the pale skin under Kurt's jaw. He slowly pushed a kiss every inch down Kurt's jaw bone, the singer breath getting more and more ragged each time until Dave pulled Kurt's ear lobe into his mouth.

Kurt melted downward with a sharp intake of breath. Dave wrapped an arm around Kurt's narrow little hips and pulled him up, the other hand still resting lightly around Kurt's hip.

Dave turned and dropped Kurt onto the middle of the bed. For a moment, Dave just started down at Kurt; his headed falling back a little, his lips red against his pale skin and his chest raising and falling above and below the lines of the lettermen. Dave groaned and pulled Kurt's hips up and forward until he was mostly out of the jacket and his legs were hanging off the edge of the bed.

"You look so hot wearing my jacket."

"I wish I could wear it at school." Kurt didn't mean for that to slip out of his mouth like that, but it was true. He did.

Kurt didn't mean to make Dave feel bad, or like he wasn't good enough. He still remembered Dave asking if Kurt was only dating him because there was no other option. But it felt like nothing was going to work out for Kurt. This was supposed to be his one happy date, his one thing. He planned so carefully; google gave him six other restaurants before he settled on that one, and the roundtrip was three whole hours. He just wanted one nice date; he'd lowered his expectations to just that. They were going to go out to dinner and have one nice, fearless date.

And it was taken away by an alcoholic blond who never out grew high school.

Kurt wanted to cry, and he closed his eyes to head it off. The feelings must have shown on his face anyway, because Dave leaned down from where he was hovering and kissed Kurt as he slid his hands under the tank top.

"I'm sorry." Dave pushed his hands under the tank top up.

"I'm sorry." He kissed the pale neck again.

"I'm sorry." Dave pressed a kiss on the top of his collar bone, and kept moving his down to the center of Kurt's chest. He pulled away from Kurt and pulled the shirt up underneath his arms.

"I'm sorry." Dave kissed right underneath the roll of fabric, and slowly brushed his lips onto Kurt's skin every inch down the center of his chest, passed his ribs and onto his stomach.

"I'm Sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Kurt eyes closed as he felt Dave's light, barely there kisses. He was coved in goosebumps, almost like his skin was straining up for more contact. Every kiss did feel like an apology, separate from the way Dave's was whispering against his skin. Dave's thumbs kept ghosting over the curve of his hip bone. When Dave pulled his nails over Kurt's hips, Kurt couldn't help the first half of a moan from spilling out of his lips.

"Shhh." Dave didn't move his lips of the smooth skin right under Kurt's belly button, and sent a breath of air against the skin.

The tall boy dragged his nose down the light sprinkling of brown hair that lead to the draw string of Kurt's pants. Dave moved his lips to kiss each of Kurt's hip bones and slide his fingers underneath the sides of Kurt's pants. Dave pulled them down as he knelt between Kurt's legs.

Kurt leaned up on his elbows, caught awkwardly in his jacket. Despite everything that had happened in the last four hours, the eroticism of Dave kneeling in front of his cock was not lost on him, and he felt himself get harder at Dave stared.

He kept looking down until Dave leaned forward and experimentally licked him, slowly and with his eyes close, from the space where balls and cock met, all the way to the tip. Then Kurt's eyes rolled back and he dropped his head.

Kurt's moan wasn't enough to drown the sound of footsteps above them.

-0-

Dave heard the floorboards above them creak, and simply reacted. He sat back on his heels, and tightened his grip on the sides of Kurt's legs. With one yank, he'd pulled Kurt off the bed and onto his lap. Kurt didn't seem to understand what was going on and started to speak.

Dave coved his mouth with one of his big hands.

"Someone's awake," he whispered so softly that Kurt had to read his lips.

They sat in tense silence for a long moment, Kurt's wide eyes on top of his face and Dave's hand covering his mouth. Then the toilet flushed above them and the boards creaked again.

Kurt closed his eyes in relief as Dave dropped his hands, but they snapped open as he felt Dave's hand stroking his cock again and he saw Dave start to lean his head down.

"Dave, what are you doing?"

"Blowing you?"

"No. No, we can't do this like this."

"What?"

"You're just trying to prove you're sorry. Dave I know you're sorry. This isn't going to change anything." Kurt reached down and pulled his pants back over himself. Dave didn't move.

"I don't want you to touch me because you feel like you have to and because I'm sad. Sex isn't supposed to be like this. Nothing is supposed to be like this."

"You really wanted that date, didn't you?"

Kurt didn't trust himself to answer but he nodded. Dave closed his arms around Kurt, and held him close.

"I'm sorry I ruined it. I'm sorry I'm so shit at this. I'm sorry I can't come out. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"I wish we didn't have to worry about this. I wish we could just….run away."

"Run away?"

"Yes. Run away to New York, where no one knows us yet. And then I can write a musical and star in it and design all the costumes and break the record for most Tony's won by a single show. And you can become Donald Tumps's right hand man and manage all of his employees and properties for him. You'll get paid millions of dollars. And we'll be the power couple of the world."

"Hmhmhm. I like that. And we'll have a penthouse apartment, and I'll buy shares in sports team. I'll have my own football team."

"Mmm and I'll have a theatre. And a clothing line."

Dave tightened his arms around Kurt.

"We'll try this date again," Dave promised. "We'll just find something further away. Another restaurant. Or something. I promise."

"Ok."

Kurt and Dave stayed together on their floor for half an hour, until Dave had to sneak back out of the backdoor and go home.

-0-

Kurt spent most of his Sunday afternoon in bed, though he woke up 10. He lay staring at his ceiling and day dreaming for a while, then brushed his teeth and returned to his bed with his laptop.

Two hours of surfing though fashion blogs and was very nice, as well as listening to a steady stream of show tunes. After the third version of "Defying Gravity" drifted out of his itunes, Kurt decided to watch the musical.

He wasn't quite sure which version he was in the mood for, so he opened you tube and google. His google search was sorted by relevance to his area.

Which is how he found out that Wicked was playing two shows on November 12th at the Aronoff Center, Procter & Gamble Hall in Cincinnati.

-0-

Burt was starting to worry about Kurt. If it was approaching 1:00 in the afternoon and it was Finn who hadn't come out of his room yet, he wouldn't have been worried. But this wasn't like Kurt. Well, it was. This was how Kurt acted when he was upset over something; it'd always been this way and since he was three years old there had been only one way to deal with it.

In their 11 year marriage, Burt never learned to make camellia tea as well as Elizabeth. But he tried, and ten minutes later he had a plate of ginger snaps in one hand and a mug of tea with Winne the Pooh painted on the side in the other.

"Kurt? Buddy? Can I come in?"

"Yes." Kurt's musical voice came floating up the stairs and under the door, and it didn't sound half as mopey as he expected.

Burt walked down the stairs and put the plate and mug on the bedside table next to Kurt, then sat on the bed. The teenager sat up and smiled when he saw the mug.

"My Pooh Bear Mug!"

"Yeah. That bear was always your favorite."

Bears were my favorite? Now wasn't that foreshadowing something, Kurt thought to himself as he took a sip.

Burt looked at Kurt for a minute, then sighed.

"You know, its past 1 and you're still in bed. Usually that means you're down about something, but it doesn't seem like it right now."

"Oh. Well I was. But I just heard some good news. Kind of." Burt raised his eyebrows. "Do you know that show I love? Wicked?"

"Which poster is that?"

"That one. Over there. The one with the green face." Kurt pointed at his wall. His dad nodded.

"Alright. Go on."

"Well, there's a Broadway theatre company coming to put it on at the Aronoff Center. Do you think I could go?"

Burt looked at him for a minute.

"Well, if there's a matinee you could go to on a day when there's nothing else you might need to do and your grades are up, and you pay for your own ticket, then you could probably drive up and back like you did for…the one about AIDS?

"Rent. That one." Kurt pointed at another poster.

"Right. I'll have to check with Carole, though."

"Um. Actually dad. I kind of want to go see it with someone. And maybe do some other stuff in the city. So do you think that maybe I could get a hotel room? Just like a Holiday Inn for one night, and we'll drive back the next morning."

Burt looked at him for a minute.

"Who is it?"

"Just a friend."

"What do you need to do in Cincinnati?"

"Just like. Go to dinner, and the show. Swim in the pool and go to the park. Just stuff we can't do in Lima."

"Kurt, you can do most of that in Lima."

"No we can't." Then Kurt looked sad, the way Burt had expected him to when he came down the stairs.

"Kurt, what's wrong? You have to tell me son, or I can't do anything."

"I…can't really. But please Dad."

"I don't know Kurt, you're not giving me much to go on."

Kurt looked down into his tea mug for a moment, and looked like he was opening his mouth to say something, then closed it.

"What is it Kurt?"

"I just want to hang out with someone for once without being the gay loser who sings."

Burt sighed, and pulled a hand down his face.

"Do I know this kid?"

"Not really."

"Do you trust them? Are you sure that you'll be ok? She's not going to lock you two out of the room by accident or get mugged in the street is she?"

"I trust him, he's not going to do anything stupid."

"So it's a boy? Can you please tell me who this is?"

For some reason this question made Kurt sink back into his pillows and pull his tea tighter.

"I really can't. I want to but I can't."

Burt was completely torn. He wanted to let Kurt be happy, he wanted to let him do everything, he wanted to give him the world just to put the smile back on his face. But this was still his son, and Burt wasn't about to send him a hundred miles away with a boy who's name he didn't even know.

"You would need to call me every time you got some where new. When you get in the city, when you get to the theatre, when you leave the theatre. And I want this kid's phone number."

"I really can't tell you who it is, Dad."

"I still need their number."

"Does this mean I can go?"

Burt sighed loudly.

"Yeah, I guess."

-0-

Hello?" Dave answered his phone.

"Were you serious when you said that we could do that date over, if we go far enough out of the way?"

"Ah, yeah?"

"Is Cincinnati far enough away?"

Dave blinked.

"Ah. Yeah. It is. What?"

It took Kurt twenty minutes to explain his plan to see a show and then sleep over in a hotel. It took him thirty minutes to explain what Wicked was.

An extra long A/N:

As Quietlyreading and boys-should-kiss-boys-more from the pirate chat will tell you, I had some trouble deciding if Burt would let Kurt go on his mini trip. The way I see it, as far a Burt knows, Kurt is a very responsible person and he hates seeing his son upset. I can see him (grudgingly) letting Kurt get his hotel room, just because he knows it will make Kurt happy again.

As some of you dear reviews were kind enough to point out, I did mess up on April's story line a little last chapter. I'm ashamed; I'm usually such a stickler for cannon. I've edited it, so now it should fit with what happened during "The Rhode not Taken."

I've gotten a lot of comments about how angsty this ended up, and how downright sad it can be at times. So this seems like a good time to point out that this story does have a happy ending. This story is only about half over, and there are going to be twists and turns galore. The angst isn't quite done, but the ending is written already and it is a happy one.

And lastly: I am just not on my game today, I just added a last paragraph because as I started writing chapter 11, I realized that that passage worked better as an ending to this chapter as apposed to an opening to this one.