The Storm: Redemption

Chapter Two

By Gayforkurt

Summary: Famous countertenor Kurt Hummel and billionaire entrepreneur Dave Karofsky must come to terms with the past but bitter feelings make a future for these two headstrong men highly unlikely. This fic is rated M.

Disclaimer: Messrs. Ryan, Falchuk, et al are the owners of my favorite boys. Only the OCs belongs to me, alas.

KHDK

"Noah! What the_ what are you doing here?"

Kurt's voice rose an octave, something that always embarrassed him but right now he felt he was within his rights. Noah slid his arms around Kurt's waist and pulled him tight into his body.

"Hey, princess, how're you doing?" Puck was getting off on the confused expression on the Kurt's beautiful face and the parted lips were also doing it for him. Kurt placed both palms on the toned chest and pushed back slightly, easing away from the last person he'd expected to see.

Kurt turned to collect his drink and turned back quickly before Noah could move any closer. He took a quick sip and then raised an eyebrow enquiringly. "Well, what are you doing in London?"

He moved away towards his table, happy to see it had not been claimed and took a seat. Noah slid into the chair opposite and took a drag on his bottle of dark beer. Kurt set his drink down so he could lean forward to hear the other man better over the thumping music.

"It's my night off so I'm hanging at one of my spots." He raised the bottle suggestively to his lips and took a slow drag, staring into Kurt's eyes the whole time. Kurt smirked and leaned back, trying not to show that his breathing had sped up. Oh god, if Noah was here that meant…

He glanced at his drink, wondered if he should finish it and then looked back at Noah. He debated if he should ask the next question, and then amended it quickly before speaking. "So… is, uh, everyone okay?" There, it wasn't specific to any one person, was it?

Puck grinned as he stared at Kurt's flawless face, noticing the faint color that had flared before the singer spoke. He shook his head. "No, not really." He didn't really want to tease Kurt but he also didn't want to get into anything deep here at a club.

The silence and Kurt's nerves stretched and Noah felt like a heel for doing that to Kurt. Still, to be honest, he didn't know for sure if Kurt was actually angling for news of Dave. They sat and sipped at their drinks, both pretending to check out the heaving crowd and acting as if they were enjoying the music. Finally, they snapped.

"So, wanna get outta here?"/"I've had enough I'm leaving."

They looked at each other, startled at having spoken at the same time, and set down their drinks. Puck waited for Kurt to speak first.

Kurt cleared his throat. "Uhm, well, I've had a busy day and I'm going back to my flat."

Puck nodded, getting to his feet. "Yeah, I'm gonna head out. I don't usually see all these city types here when we're in town." He held his hand out to Kurt who took it just a tad reluctantly. They stood staring at each other for a few seconds but it felt far longer, when Kurt blurted out, "Do you want to come by mine for a coffee?"

He closed his eyes briefly, wondering if he'd lost the last few marbles he'd had, when he heard a low chuckle. He looked back up at the other man whose eyes gleamed as he stared back. Puck was hot and, yeah, Kurt thought if things had been different he could really get into it with him but he hesitated to admit what might be holding him back. His mind was like a mine field these days and he really hated that simple things like hooking up with a hot guy who definitely had the hots for him had become so difficult. He stared at the other man, half hoping he would do the sensible thing and turn down his invitation.

Puck wondered what was going through Kurt's mind as the diva seemed far more nervous than he'd expected. Seriously, these artistic types always seemed like they were one fry short of a happy meal or – as a friend who was a sci-fi addict had once told him – their turbo lift didn't go all the way to the bridge. However, he was not going to turn down an opportunity to find out what was going on with the singer.

"That would be great; lead the way." Puck stepped back so Kurt could move ahead of him, enjoying the rear view, of course. Kurt was just as hot as ever, despite the nerves, and the all-black get up certainly suited him. Puck smirked and imagined once again what the singer would be like in bed. He would bet his last dollar Kurt would be a noisy fuck. He took a deep breath and shook his head, wishing as he followed the other man that he'd left all that horniness back in his teenage years.

The two men stepped out into the relative quiet of the night, the rain having eased up and leaving the cobbled street gleaming and clean. Kurt turned to Noah and smiled tentatively. "You'll have to follow me, okay?"

Puck just nodded and gestured for Kurt to go get into his car and then he moved off to jump into a low-slung silver convertible two-seater. Kurt wondered if he actually owned it or if it was one of the fleet of vehicles he knew Karofsky owned. He got into his own car, a black Saab Phoenix, and moved off slowly, waiting for Noah to fall in behind him.

He didn't live very far away but many foreigners found the system of one-way streets in this fairly central part of the ancient city somewhat confusing. His mind wandered to the man in the car behind and, inevitably, his employer. Kurt didn't know how he felt about what Noah had said when he'd asked if everyone was alright. Well, I'll get a chance to pick his brain in a little while, won't I, he muttered. Not sure inviting him back was a good idea, though. That man's definitely a predator, Kurt shook his head with a little smirk lighting his face.

They finally pulled up in front of the converted townhouse that housed Kurt's flat and Kurt jumped out and waited for Noah to park. To say he was a little nervous was a bit of an understatement but Kurt forgave himself. He'd been feeling off-kilter ever since he had met the two men and the vacation that he was finally able to have at his own little island retreat had not helped very much.

Puck sauntered up to the waiting man and indicated with his head that Kurt should head up. The singer took his keys out and they made their way upstairs, Puck marveling at the narrow stairs that were often found in these converted flats. They chatted about several of the architectural features ('guy-talk', Kurt scoffed) as he let them into his rooms. He shrugged out of his coat and offered to take Noah's leather jacket before heading over to the small kitchen to fix the coffee.

As he moved past him, Puck reached out and snagged one of Kurt's wrists, dragging him in close to his body. Without even a by your leave, Puck dipped his head towards Kurt's mouth, dying for a taste of the succulent lips that had fascinated him. Kurt, pulled slightly off balance, gasped and, before he knew it, the larger man was plundering his mouth, kissing him as if he were starving.

The taste of the drinks Kurt had had earlier exploded across Puck's tongue and he delved in for more of the singer's sweet lips. His hands slipped down to grasp Kurt's ass and knead it, relishing the faint sounds that issued from the slimmer man's throat. Gradually, though, he realized that Kurt wasn't so much writhing in his arms as trying to push him away.

Puck eased back, staring at Kurt's pouty, wet lips and dipped his head again for another taste. This time, however, he definitely felt Kurt's small hands pushing against him determinedly and glanced up into the singer's wide eyes.

"Noah, I said coffee, dammit!" Puck grinned at the sexy, breathy quality of Kurt's voice but he eased his hold on him and stepped back. "That was not code for a hook-up!"

Puck raised his hands in surrender and laughed softly. "Hey, you can't blame a guy for trying." He moved away from the singer but made sure that Kurt saw him adjusting the front of his jeans. He chuckled again when Kurt's coloring deepened before he spun around to head into the kitchen.

Kurt just shook his head as he filled the kettle. "How do you take your coffee; black, I suppose?" All the 'manly' men he knew seemed to make a point of always taking their damned coffee black, as if cream and sugar made you too gay.

"I don't want coffee at all. Do you have anything stronger?" Kurt came to stand in the archway to the kitchen and cocked his head to the side, studying the other man as he strolled around the flat looking at Kurt's knickknacks.

"I might, but you have to drive so I don't think you should have anything stronger. Coffee will have to do. Black?" Besides, he wanted to ask the other man some questions and he'd prefer him sober.

Puck turned around with a framed photograph in his hands and smiled at him before nodding. "Yeah, thanks. Is this your dad?" Kurt nodded as he turned back to the coffeemaker.

"Yes, he lives in Ohio but I only see him every once in a while. What about you, any family?" He busied himself making up a tray with coffee mugs, milk and sugar, plus a plate with some cookies the Brits insisted on calling biscuits. Kurt actually enjoyed the differences in a language that was supposed to be common to both nations and often took great pleasure in teasing servers in restaurants about it.

When he finally came out with the loaded tray, Noah came over and grabbed it for him while Kurt cleared off a coffee table on which he could rest it. It was all very cozy and domestic, Kurt mused, but he was not foolish enough to think this panther in his parlor was a tame housecat. He smirked as Noah placed the tray on the table and then he handed the other man his mug.

They sipped and nibbled for a while, all the time taking each other's measure, and Kurt wondered how he seemed to the other man. He remembered he'd been a bit of a bitch when he'd been at Karofsky's island estate but he'd been a little nicer to the man sitting across from him. He felt an unwanted pang of guilt as he recalled his behavior but, watching Noah now, he was happy that he'd not completely alienated him.

Puck drained his coffee and placed the mug back on the tray before leaning back and staring at Kurt. He knew the diva had questions and he was considering toying with the arrogant singer but then changed his mind. He could see tell-tale signs that Kurt hadn't been sleeping well; not that he would point that out. Kurt looked as if the wrong word would send him ballistic and Puck wasn't in the mood to deal with temperamental singers right now.

"So, let the interrogation commence." He grinned as Kurt almost choked at his words, the beautiful aquamarine eyes gazing at him, startled. "Well, didn't you want to question me? Go ahead."

Kurt swallowed the last of his coffee quickly before it went down the wrong way, his mind racing as he tried to compose himself. Seriously, he needed to get a hold of himself. This was the last person – well, almost the last person – in front of whom he wanted to fall apart. He took a deep, fortifying breath, squeezed his eyes shut and asked the question that had been on his mind for weeks.

"Okay, then. So, how_ uhm, how is David?"

TBC

A/N: Well, Kurt's not certain where his head (or heart) is leading him at the moment and I can't say I blame him. I'd love to hear your thoughts, of course, so remember to review, please.