Palermo's wasn't crowded, oddly enough. The few times Dave had been there, he'd had to wait for a table. It felt pleasant, it felt right, that there was space to breathe. Dave was seated at a table near the back while he waited for Kurt. The air all around his table smelled like hot tomato sauce, and it was an altogether agreeable aroma. His stomach rumbled gently and he made a pyramid out of the half & half he got from a little bowl next to the salt and pepper shakers.

He was placing sugar packets along the sides when a hand touched his arm, causing him to jump slightly and knock the whole structure down. He turned to look up into the beautiful face he'd been dreaming about.

"Hey," said Kurt, a charming smile lacing his look together.

"Hi, Kurt," replied Dave, feeling his cheeks grow hot.

Kurt sat in the other seat, facing Dave. He folded his hands on the table and smiled.

Dave felt uncomfortable all of a sudden. He wasn't worried about people walking in on them—he honestly could care less what they think; he wasn't concerned that he'd make Kurt hate him even more; no, he was uncomfortable because a hot mass of feeling shot from Kurt's smile right into the base of Dave's stomach and right along down to his groin. He shuddered lightly and rearranged himself and tried to think of things that would allow him to eat a meal with Kurt without embarrassment.

Golf. Rabbits. Checkers. Scarves. Kurt was wearing a scarf, a blue one that made his eyes sparkle—no! French fries. Pens. Kurt, Kurt's light blue shirt… ugh…

It wasn't easy, but eventually, throughout their conversation, Dave cooled off a bit, and was really enjoying himself.

"..and it's not like I don't miss Glee, but I'm having a good time at Dalton."

"Cool," Dave replied, not sure how much of the conversation he had missed. "I, uh… like your shirt." He licked his lips nervously and took a sip of his ice water.

"Thanks," Kurt beamed. "Maybe you have good taste after all. It's Dolce & Gabbana. The buttons feel more casual, and it is lunch after all, but there's always time for fashion. Blaine got it for me for Christmas."

Dave had been nodding along, but pulled back into himself slightly at the mention of Blaine. He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel jealous, but Kurt had been clear—they were friends.

"That's cool," Dave said fairly quietly.

Kurt gave him an odd look, but the waiter appeared then with their meals. Kurt got a plate of herb and lemon chicken spaghetti with salad, and Dave had a large plate of beef ravioli. The duo shared a basket of breadsticks. Dave liked them a lot; he didn't care all that much for Breadstix. Truth be told, he didn't have any friends that were speaking to him now, but before, none of them really went to the popular restaurant, and it was molded in his mind that it was a place to be lonely. He knew that sounded sad, but he didn't care, because he was trying to be honest with himself. And anyway, Kurt was here with him at Palermo's, and he would always attach the good feelings he got from Kurt with the spicy fragrance of this Italiano place. That was enough for him to think it was better.

"Dave?"

His head shot up. He'd been talking to himself in his own mind and had totally spaced.

"Yeah?"

"You okay? You were just staring at your water and then you got this creepy little smile on your face."

"Sorry," he said. "I remembered something funny that had happened earlier."

Kurt let it go. They finished up their meal in relative, awkward silence.

When the bill came, Kurt reached for it, but Dave snatched it up first. "Uh uh, I've got this."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "We could split it, you know."

Dave shook his head. "No, I can cover it."

"Look, I'm not saying you can't, but that makes it sound like this is a date."

Dave knew that. That had been his intention all along. But Kurt was giving him a look that clearly said "this better not be a date", and Dave shrugged, a little embarrassed as he set the check down.

They split it and Dave left a ten dollar bill under his water glass for the tip.

"That's generous of you," Kurt motioned with his hand.

"It's almost Christmas," came Dave's simple reply.

Kurt nodded, and his eyes fell from Dave's. Dave saw a small smile curve into his cheeks as they left the restaurant, and the awkward exchange, behind them.