Chapter 12: Celebrate!
Still relatively new to New York and never having been to Brooklyn before, David overestimated how long it would take and consequently got there early. Standing on the sidewalk outside the still locked gallery, he texted Kurt. The sound of the door unlocking had David slipping his phone away. Kurt grabbed at David's jacket and pulled him inside. He locked the door with one hand, the other never leaving its grip on David's lapel, and then crunched David in a hug so tight, David was glad he was built sturdy.
Kurt relaxed into the familiar feel of David's hands soothing along his spine and tipping his head up, sighed against David's ear. "Why did I want to do this again?"
David stepped back, his arms loose around Kurt's waist and grinned at a Kurt who obviously couldn't decide if he was excited or nervous, so, he was going for both. "Because you need to share your genius with the world." David moved in closer and lowered his voice. "And because you want to be able to pay your condo fees without picking up a whip."
Putting one hand on David's cheek, Kurt pulled his head down for a quick kiss. "Don't want me sharing my expertise with anyone else, huh?"
Kurt was teasing but David was very serious. "No, I do not." He wasn't terribly thrilled about sharing Kurt with Jason, sharing him with strangers, even in a professional capacity, was just obscene. This was Kurt's night, though, and he didn't want to ruin it with his own insecurities. Slipping a hand into Kurt's, he banished all disquieting issues to another time and place, and smiled at his boyfriend. "Do I get a private tour?"
Eric Stedler had done a good job. Kurt's work had been impressive leaning against the wall in his condo, but here, displayed properly with accent lighting and enough space to appreciate each piece individually, it definitely drew the eye, and then the heart. It was a small gallery, a few tiny rooms, a few paintings in each room. Kurt's canvases dominated the space, overpowering the senses and seducing the soul. David said little as Kurt guided him through the exhibit, listening as Kurt told him small secrets about each painting.
"And that's it." Kurt twirled his hand indicating the whole exhibit and turned to David, a hint of nervousness in his smile.
David was no expert and he certainly wasn't objective, but these paintings seemed singular to him; intriguing, emotive, and compelling, much like the man who created them. He wanted to slip to his knees in front of Kurt but he settled for taking his hand, turning it over and pressing a kiss to the back of his wrist. "I love you."
Kurt was in his arms, wound around him, biting into his mouth, devouring him until Stedler called from the foyer. "Kurt, show time."
The artist of the hour unpeeled himself from David, one finger gently tracing the lip his teeth had tortured. "I love you too." Squaring his shoulders, he went to face the critics.
Two hours later, and the little gallery was a whirl of constant movement, people coming and going, laughing and talking, drinking the seemingly unending supply of white wine. David held his glass, sipping carefully as he moved from room to room. This Eric guy knew his stuff, the media was here, taking pictures and interviewing Kurt. Stedler schmoozed like the professional he was. He greeted the collectors he had invited and showed them around the gallery, introducing them to the artist as if he was pulling a rabbit out of a hat. There was a lot of hand shaking and air kissing and it was working. As the evening progressed, small red stickers appeared on canvases, indicating that they were sold.
David walked the rooms, observing the reaction to Kurt's work, yes, but also tracking Jason. He had seen the younger man come in. Watching him lean into Kurt, and watching Kurt's arms enfold him, déjà vu ripped through him. He had seen that hug before, he had watched Kurt's hands twine through the other man's hair just exactly the same way all those months ago, on the Upper West Side, his first day in New York. He saw the same ease, the same familiarity and he didn't like it any better now than he had then.
Nursing his wine, he circled through the rooms, thinking about the other man in his life. He didn't know anything about the guy. Kurt didn't talk about Jason, not to him, from which he assumed that Kurt didn't talk about him to Jason, either. At that thought, David snorted quietly to himself; Kurt had a lot of integrity for a guy who was sleeping with two men.
Rachel and Puck showed up late, probably coming directly from the theatre. Chatting to each other as they toured the exhibit, they were enjoying this quiet time without the twins when a reporter recognized Rachel and Puck slipped away from the paparazzi and found David.
David nodded at the pack surrounding Rachel. "That happen all the time?"
Puck shrugged. "It's New York, Broadway's a big deal here."
Puck grinned as they watched Rachel guide her pack over to Kurt and draw him into the media fray. "You'd never think watching them now that they used to nearly wipe the floor with each other fighting over solos in Glee Club."
David shuddered. "I remember the screaming."
Puck cocked his head to the side, wondering when David would have heard the divas squaring off on each other. "You weren't in Glee Club."
"No, God no! I wasn't as brave as you were and I can't sing for shit." Watching Kurt talk to the reporters, looking very tall standing next to the tiny Rachel, his arm around her shoulders, David smiled. "I used to hide in the back of the auditorium and watch your dress rehearsals."
Puck laughed. "Such a perv!"
"Guilty as charged."
Puck nudged David's elbow with his own. "What's with the blond in the corner staring at you? You collecting boys now, Karofsky?"
David didn't have to look. "That's Jason, you know, Kurt's other boyfriend." He leaned over to place his empty glass on a window ledge. "We're not in Lima anymore, are we?"
Puck stared at the waves of blond hair and green eyes, something itching in his memory. "Why does he seem familiar?"
"Kurt introduced you once, remember? His niece goes to your kids' school; he was at that concert thing."
"Right." Puck nodded as the memory clicked in. "So that's the other guy, huh? He…"
David so didn't need to hear that Jason was younger and better looking and wasn't starting on a receding hairline. "Shut up."
"Me?" Puck laughed, trying to look innocent. "I was just going to say… "
"Yeah, don't!" David glared and Puck grinned but he shut up.
Jason blended with the crowd. His good looks and friendly smile were a magic combination that let him move easily between the chattering groups of people sipping wine and talking Kurt. He didn't have to say much which was good because he knew nothing about art. He knew the tall, square guy on the other side of the room though. He remembered wanting to punch the guy out all those months ago, at that concert, just for looking at Kurt. Jason grimaced to himself as he ducked around a couple standing in front of one of Kurt's paintings. Tall, thick and boring was doing a lot more than looking now, and there wasn't a damn thing Jason could do about it. Tucked into a corner of the room, out of the way of the flowing human traffic, Jason leaned against the wall and stared at the other man in his life. Okay, he wasn't being fair, the guy wasn't bad looking. Yeah, he was a bit of a hulk, but his mouth was nicely shaped and his shoulders made Jason feel inadequate. He watched, and when Puck and a woman he supposed was his wife moved away, Jason crossed the room. "We should talk."
David looked at the toned body and perfect smile and the thought crossed his mind that the smile wouldn't be so damn perfect if the guy was missing a few teeth. "Why?"
Jason turned and David followed his line of vision, right to Kurt. "Because we both love Kurt."
The words brought Karofsky's head around, staring at Jason as Jason stared at Kurt. David found himself grudgingly respecting the other man's courage. He would never have spoken that truth out loud. "Okay." Weaving his way through art aficionados, he headed for the next room, Jason right behind him. Opening a glass door onto a small patio empty but for a few die-hard smokers, David walked across the flagstones until he reached the bordering hedges and turned to face Jason. "You're not leaving anytime soon, are you?" He wasn't talking about the exhibit.
Jason shook his head. "Neither are you."
It wasn't a question but David answered anyway. "No."
Jason looked up at the big guy and noticed for the first time that his eyes were beautiful or they would be if they weren't looking at Jason as if they were measuring him for a coffin. "So, we're stuck with each other."
Slipping his hands into his pockets, David shrugged. "Until Kurt kicks one of us out of his bed."
Jason laughed. "You think that's going to happen?"
David's lips pulled into a reluctant smile. "A guy can dream."
Jason dropped onto a wooden bench that faced the gallery, watching the people inside highlighted against the darkness outside. "Yeah, I know that dream."
The reporters had left long ago, the crowd was starting to thin and Kurt was freaking out. He hadn't been so busy talking up his paintings and shaking hands with potential buyers that he had missed David and Jason leaving the room together. Surreptitiously keeping an eye out for his men, he had worked the white rooms, and eventually saw them outside, on the patio, together. He smiled and air-kissed and pretended to listen as strangers told him what his own work meant. He did it all with one eye on the patio door and a clock ticking in his head. They had been out there forever. He had no idea what they were saying to each other and that not-knowing was making his mind melt.
Watching from outside on the patio, Kurt was easy to pick out, framed as he was between the glass doors, talking to the few lingering guests. Eric Stedler stood beside his protégé looking as proud as if he had created Kurt himself from a little ball of clay. "Judging by the smile on Stedler's face," Jason nodded at the man on the other side of the glass doors. "I think Kurt did okay."
"He should be fucking happy; he gets fifty percent of every sale."
Jason rolled his eyes, and pumped his fist in the air. "Cha-Ching."
Forgetting for a second that he didn't want to like this guy, David laughed. Standing, he nodded towards the gallery. "We'd better get in there."
Half-way across the flagstones, Jason touched David's arm, and David turned to the younger man, his posture a question. Jason tilted his head, indicating their man. "He deserves a celebration."
David looked at Kurt and smiled. "Yes, he does."
Jason started talking again, walking backwards, facing Karofksy. "He's going to want to celebrate with both of us, you know that, right?"
His eyes flashing to the man in the gallery spotlight, David stopped walking. He hadn't thought of it, no, but he was thinking about it now. What was Kurt supposed to do, drop one of them off at the subway and take the other one home? Kurt wouldn't do that; he wouldn't choose one over the other like that. So that meant, what, that he'd go home alone on arguably the biggest night of his life? No fucking way!
Watching as Eric subtly guided the last of the wine drinkers out of the gallery, Kurt heard the patio door open and Jason's voice carry into the now quiet room. Spinning around, he saw Jason laughing as he tried to shove David's arm off his shoulders. "Get off me, you over-grown Boy Scout." With a wink at Kurt, David let the younger man go, and Jason bounced into the room.
The opening of the exhibit had been a success. There were little red stickers on almost every painting, Eric was talking another show, and the Arts critic from the Brooklyn Eagle had called his work, "Breathtakingly Brilliant." Kurt had thought this night couldn't get any better, right up until he turned around and saw his two men walking towards him, smiles on their faces and laughter in their eyes.
"So, we were thinking," Jason reached him first, leaning in for a hug, the way he always did. Kurt ruffled the younger man's hair and wrapped his other arm around Karofsky's waist as David joined them.
David continued Jason's sentence. "We should celebrate." The words were PG but the look in Karofsky's eyes wasn't. "What do you want to do?"
Staying glued along the side of his boyfriend's body, Jason moved his head back until he could see Kurt's face. "Who do you want to do?" His raised eyebrows did their own comedy routine.
A little old man started jumping up and down in Kurt's brain, smacking at the back of his head and shouting, "This isn't real! Are you fucking kidding me? Who do you think you are, Matt Bomer?"
David smiled down at Kurt, his eyes a little shy, a blush steeling across his cheekbones. "Who do you want to do, first?"
That little gnome of a man screaming in the back of his head? Kurt took aim and shot him, right between the eyes.
