XVII
Happy Birthday Brittany.
The following weeks were weird and uneasy for everyone involved in what Kurt had mentally dubbed 'The Sleepover Night'. Blaine had told Kurt everything about his argument with Sam and his sexuality crisis and whilst the waiter had a lot more patience and understanding for those struggling with their identity, his protective nature for his best friend won out. He'd promised to have words with Sam when they next crossed paths; Which seemed redundant considering Sam had done one of his signature disappearing acts and hadn't been seen by anyone since. Brittany seemed weirdly tight lipped when probed for answers and because Brittany was Brittany, Kurt couldn't find it in him to dig deeper and make her uncomfortable. Blaine hadn't even tried. Kurt's best friend had been in tears that morning, roaring and punching cushions and spouting out vile language that sat oddly on his tongue, but ever since he seemed to dispel the anger from his system, Blaine was been bizarrely calm. He hadn't once asked Kurt if he had seen Sam yet, hadn't enquired to anyone else, to Kurt's knowledge and he had stopped eye balling the stairwell to Sylvester's in hopes the blond patron would enter. Kurt found the whole situation eerie.
His own situation fared worse. After Jake had embarrassingly walked in on him and his brother, the mixed raced chef seemed to of taken a vow of silence when in Kurt's proximity, choosing instead to shoot glares at Kurt whenever the waiter caught his eye. Kurt was silently glad that Jake wasn't speaking to him, because if he had been, Kurt might just have to explain himself. And he didn't know where to begin, because he had no fucking clue. Besides, if anyone was going to hear his explanation, when he conjured one, it would be Noah, which in itself would be proven difficult, seeing as Jake seemed to just appear whenever Kurt and Noah were alone. Kurt wasn't stupid, he knew Jake's game, and in the long run he should probably thank him for keeping quiet about what he saw and seemingly trying to prevent such things happening again, but for now, it was annoying as hell because… well because Kurt missed Noah.
Noah, who ever since, had been oddly smiley. Like he was totally content with the world and all that was in it. Of course, during work he was still hot headed and he and Kurt argued as passionately as before, but it felt different to Kurt now, and he wasn't sure how to explain it. Knowing that the man threatening you and insulting you wanted you, desired you, had cum because of you, made every verbal lashing different. Kurt felt powerful when Noah raised his voice, got so angry that a prominent vein appeared on his forehead, because Kurt knew, that if he wanted to, he could wipe the scowl off of Noah's face in a heartbeat, and thoroughly enjoy doing so. Well he could, had it not been for Jake 'Cock Blocker' Puckerman. There had been several incidence where Kurt and Puck would actively find time to be alone, lingering stares, Kurt biting his bottom lip and Noah smirking, the tension between them suffocating, only for Jake to prevent anything from happening. And Kurt was horny.
But moreso than that, Kurt was hungry. Hungry for Noah's cooking out of Sylvester's. He wanted to finish reading that particular copy of Vogue and find out who won that fight that the wrestling show had been promoting heavily. He wanted bacon in the morning that tasted almost burnt due to distractions with the chef. Kurt, for all intents and purposes, wanted to relive that night and the following morning –minus Jake- over and over again. He didn't tell Noah that, gosh no, he hadn't even told Blaine any of it, using Blaine's meltdown as a convenient way of foregoing why he himself had stayed out overnight. Because Kurt knew he was asking for too much. Noah didn't want him hanging out in his apartment, had of turned off his intercom had he of known Kurt was coming that night, Noah just wanted to have a good time. Jake had already said it, that Noah didn't have relationships with men. Not that Kurt wanted a relationship with Noah, he just wanted to hang out with him outside the pressure cooker of work. Whilst still exploding at him during work. Between blowjobs, heated kisses and what Kurt could only imagine to be amazing sex. Not a relationship at all.
"Spencer will be there."
"Is he bringing Alistair?" Kurt asked Mason during his Friday shift, whilst at the bar collecting drinks for a snobby looking couple. The bartender plopped a cocktail umbrella into the Hudson and pasted the tray over to Kurt, who grabbed it with a smile. Mason McCarthy was a nice man, camp and flamboyant yet totally in love with his high school Jane Hayward. The couple had invited Kurt over for dinner a few weekends back and introduced him to their other dinner guests Madison, Mason's twin, Roderick, Myron, Spencer and Alistair. Kurt had gotten on with all of them swimmingly, bonding over their experiences in high school show choir, but Kurt had taken a particularly liking to Spencer and Alistair, whom happened to be a couple.
"Alistair works the night shift tonight, so no." Mason replied, politely shooing Kurt away as he went to deal with another customer.
It was Brittany's birthday and after their shift, the whole of the Young Club and friends were going to Central Park for something mysterious that Santana had planned. Kurt had no idea what and to be honest, was too afraid of Santana to pry. Passing the drinks to the snobby customers and taking their order on his notepad, Kurt forced a smile and made his way over to the kitchen divider, where Noah was stationed, busy handing Jeff a couple of plates. The chef's brows were furrowed, a telltale sign that he was concentrating and focused on the job at hand, and it made Kurt want, more than anything, to throw him off kilter. He knew it was silly, juvenile and unprofessional to try ruin the flow of the kitchen, but Kurt craved a response. He just was unsure how to go about it.
"You going back to yours to get changed before Central Park?" he asked conversationally as he handed the couples order over. Noah barely looked at the piece of paper, before passing it back to Mercedes and then returning to the glass barrier, hands laid flat against the crystal as he gave Kurt his full attention, a small smile playing on his lips. Kurt liked that; having Noah Puckerman's undivided attention.
"Hadn't planned on it, why?" Noah replied, leaning forward slightly like he was magnetically pulled towards Kurt. Kurt liked that too.
"Just curious." Kurt shrugged with a shy smile. "What you doing after it?"
"Don't even know what it is, to make plans for afterwards. Why?"
"Can you stop questioning me!" Kurt snapped loudly, losing patience over god knows what, and slamming his hand down on the counter. Noah didn't even flinch, hardly moved apart from clenching his jaw.
"You're the one questioning me, Princess." Noah replied in a tone far from friendly, yet he remained exactly where he was, face way too close for his raised voice to be excusable. The chefs hazel eyes were beautiful when angered, his full lips demanding attention when he snarled. Kurt wanted them on him desperately, but knew in no way shape or form was he allowed, especially at work, with Quinn's eyes forever on him.
"Fuck, I hate you so much." Kurt whispered in a breathy tone that triggered dilation in Noah's pupil. It had sounded dirty, wanton, regardless of what was said and Kurt knew the effect it had on Noah.
"Go fuck yourself." Noah whispered back, so low that it sent instant shivers down Kurt's pale spine.
"Orders up!" Jake's voice rang from the kitchen in an aggressive tone, no doubt witnessing the whole interaction. Fuck, Kurt hated him sometimes.
"Seems I'm going to have to since you can't do it." Kurt shot back and pushed himself away from the counter, over to a table to enquire whether some customers were ready for their bill, not once looking back at the man he begrudgingly like.
Because, yes, Kurt liked Noah.
"Fireworks!" Brittany exclaimed happily as the night sky splashed with deep pinks and vibrant yellows. Blaine had to sympathize with Santana, considering the blonde bar maid was attached to her arm, yelling into her ear. Blaine couldn't blame her though, Santana really had out done herself.
After leaving Sylvester's, everyone had jumped into taxi's and made their way over to Central Park, all but Santana clueless as the what they would find. When they arrived, there were a couple of large picnic blankets sprawled across the grass, with baskets filled with Brittany's favorite food –mainly candy and a large fondue pot of cheese- and a dozen large ice buckets holding bottles of champagne, that Sue had kindly donated. As everyone took their places and began chit chatting about their shift just gone and memories of Brittany, the black blanket of sky above them had been painted with gun powder and the firework display had begun. Brittany had screamed the word 'fireworks' about twelve times before Blaine got distracted.
By Sam.
At some point during the display, the blonde man had turned up alone and watched the spectacle, right in front of Blaine's line of vision. The short bar tender wasn't sure if the positioning was intentional or what Sam hoped to achieve, but Blaine just couldn't muster the anger he had been so determined to hide.
Usually whenever anybody mentioned Sam's name –more often than not, Sebastian or Kurt-, Blaine's stomach would do a violent flip and his jaw would clench yet he outwardly remained none responsive. He hoped by feigned numbness to the situation, his brain would make it a reality. Although time had been a healer, because after three weeks of no physical appearance, Blaine had indeed began forgetting about the man. Not wiping him completely from his memory, Blaine doubted that ever possible, but not every song reminded him of Sam anymore, not every text message received was met by stupid hope that it might be him. Maybe that was why Sam's return didn't make Blaine angry. Or maybe Blaine was just fooling himself.
He watched, intently, as the splashes of color from above illuminated Sam's face, who seemed to be in a deep conversation with Kurt. Blaine was in no doubt that he was the topic of conversation, given the way Sam's green eyes, visible with each burst of light, occasionally flickered over in his direction. Blaine wasn't entirely sure how he felt about Kurt pushing his way into Blaine's problems, especially considering he wasn't too sure what the problem was. If Sam liked boys and wouldn't even admit it to himself, he doubted Kurt would have any luck.
"Who's that?" a gruff voice came from beside him, snapping Blaine out of his staring contest with the side of Sam's face. Noah' brows were furrowed and he didn't look particularly happy. He pointed in the generally direction of Brittany's old school friends. "That twat who keeps following Hummel around?"
"Spencer?" Blaine asked, unable to think of anyone else who fit the description. Not that the description was completely accurate, but Spencer was the only one Blaine could think of, seeing as Kurt had spent a large chuck of the night in his company. "He is Brittany's high school friend."
"How does Hummel know him?"
"Um…" Blaine started, unsure why Noah was interested and not knowing what Kurt would appreciate being disclosed; not that there was much to tell, as far as Blaine was concerned. Although, he had been told on multiple occasions that he was oblivious to pretty much everything. "Brittany introduced them a couple of weeks ago. Seems like a cool lad, apart from his annoying habit of putting his dirty sneakers on our couch."
"Why was he on your couch?" Noah asked stiffly, ignoring Blaine's cocked eyebrow. He didn't even look at the bar tender, which Blaine thought was slightly impolite, just stared death glares into Spencer's unknowing skull.
"Kurt hangs out with him sometimes." Blaine shrugged, looking over at his best friend, who seemed to have finished his conversation with Sam because he was bouncing over towards Spencer and Mason, shooting a dopey smile in their direction. Blaine smiled back, Noah growled. "Why do you want to know?"
"Is he gay?" Noah demanded to know, snapping his head towards Blaine. "Is Spencer gay?"
"Yeah." Blaine answered slowly, almost positive he was doing something wrong but having no idea how to deal with this situation. "You want me to wingman you or something because…" the information about Spencer having a boyfriend didn't escape Blaine's lips before Noah stormed off towards Rachel and Finn, only to have his spot replaced by a determined looking Sam.
"Let's take a walk."
Noah clenched and unclenched his fist, mentally weighing up the pros and cons to punching Kurt in the face. Pro – to let Kurt know that he was a douche bag. Con – the group would probably bitch and nag at him for it. Pro – to remind Kurt that the lithe boy couldn't just flirt with him and then hang out with the guy he was fucking in front of him. Con - Kurt's pretty little face would get severely disfigured. Pro – It'll make Noah feel better and release some of the indescribable emotion he was feeling. Con – it might push Kurt further away than he already was. Because at the moment -as far as Noah knew, before he knew about Spencer's existence- Kurt was so close but so excruciatingly far away.
"So, Spencer?" Noah casually asked, pressing his chest hard against Kurt's back as they both watched Jake's retreating figure. Somewhere between the breadsticks and fondue, Jake, Mercedes and Marley got bored of the lack of meat on offer at the picnic and had agreed to go pick up a couple of large pizza's layered with meat. The three of them had upped and left as soon as it was suggested, Jake being too distracted by food to even warn his older brother to behave in his absence. Not that Noah would have listened, of course. This was the first time alone with Kurt, well away from either Jake or Blaine, the latter disappearing some time ago with Sam, and Noah planned to use it to his advantage.
"My name is Kurt." The waiter snorted with a laugh that didn't quite sound amused, as he made to move forward to create space between them. Noah wrapped his arm easily around the lithe man's waist, trapping him. The breath that hitched in Kurt's throat sounded like heaven to Noah's ears. "What about him?" Kurt gave up being a dick when Noah's hand tightened on the waiter's hip.
"You fucking him?" Noah asked bluntly, keeping his volume low. The others were darted all over the place, preoccupied with their own stuff, but Unique and Jesse were within hearing distance if they were too ever shut up about customers they hated.
"That isn't your concern." Kurt replied, seemingly settling into Noah's grip.
"Isn't it?"
Kurt turned around awkwardly and looked straight into Noah's eyes, his gaze calculating. Noah was hit by the violent urge to kiss him senseless, claim his stake, but knew he couldn't. They had already been caught once for being careless, and to try sneak a quick one in, surrounded by their friends and coworkers would be foolish. But even the threat of losing his job didn't dampen his desire, not when it came to Kurt.
"You're not my boyfriend." Kurt whispered, reaching his hand up to rest between both their chests, hand splayed across Noah's heart. The never ending fireworks painted their faces every few seconds. "I owe you nothing."
"Really?"
"This wasn't supposed to happen." Kurt sighed and scrambled out of Noah's arms and fell to the floor with his head buried in his hands. Noah, eager to hear an explanation, sunk to the ground next to him. "I was supposed to come to New York, conquer the fashion world, dabble in music theatre and marry a British man or something. Instead I ended up in a restaurant that I can't escape from, met you, an idiot who makes me irrational, and ended up, weirdly, caring about you." Not even the red flash from the firework disguised Kurt's blush, as the younger man stared intently at his shoelaces. Noah couldn't look away, heart thumping in his chest.
"Sorry to be such a disappointment." Noah replied, knowing deep down that Kurt's comment wasn't truly meant as an insult. In fact, Noah understood perfectly. If someone had told him at the end of Kurt's first week at Sylvester's that he would actively seek out Kurt's company, approval and body, he would have punched them in the throat.
"I'm not disappointed. Just sad." Kurt shrugged helplessly, finally turning his head slightly to reward Noah with such a miserable smile. The look made the chef's stomach clench painfully. "Because I'm falling for someone who is unavailable."
"I'm not unavailable Kurt." Noah replied, voice feeling thick in his throat. He wanted nothing more than to grab hold of Kurt's hand and hold it reassuringly, but Rachel was in the distance looking over in their general direction.
"Our work makes you unavailable, plus your policy not to date men."
"Fuck the policy and fuck my job." Noah snapped angrily, wishing Kurt used the passion and fire he displayed at work, right now. That fuck the world attitude was sorely missing from this situation and Noah had to fiddle with his own hands to fight the urge to reach out and strangle the man next to him.
"Don't play the fool Noah. You have the perfect job, a golden resume for when you finish and no doubt plenty of job opportunities when you complete your contract at the restaurant with a gold star. Don't risk it all on me only for you to resent me for it."
"I'm 25 in a couple of weeks."
"Six weeks." Kurt rectified, and the knowledge that the waiter knew his birthday, was like a vacuum, sucking out all the anger Noah had pent up, causing him to smile stupidly and Kurt to blush. "Don't look so smug, Brittany mentioned it earlier."
"So, what happens after my contract expires?" Noah wondered.
"Then you can finally get round to making me that bacon I was promised."