Ok, I think this is my longest chapter to date. I hope you like it enough to read the whole thing! I have to acknowledge a few things with this chapter. 1. Settlers of Catan is my family's favorite game. It can get pretty ugly! 2. There are two poems referenced. Read them if you get a chance. Beautiful. Thanks, Ella. 3. Nicole (the crazy one), do you see your shout out? Review if you like it. Review if you hate it. Review if you think I should probably use my time to clean my apartment instead of writing and baking brownies all Saturday!
Glee Club was going to Nationals.
The excitement in the choir room late Friday afternoon was palpable. The entire club was gathered around Mercede's laptop, researching different places in New York that they wanted to visit. Already the debate had begun raging about where they would eat, how they would spend their "tourist" day, and; as it was Glee Club, what Broadway show they would see.
A whole week in New York City awaited them. Well, 5 days technically. And 2 days on the bus. Ugh...the bus. Kurt had googled it and the distance between Lima, Ohio and New York City was 529 miles. A ten hour straight shot on I-80.
Kurt had never been to New York City, but he had dreamed of going at least a million times. Never once in those dreams had he imagined arriving in the Big Apple on the McKinley High School Activity Bus. Maybe Mr. Shue would be willing to drop him off, just outside the city, and he could take a taxi in and have it drop him off in Times Square, just like Madonna had done when she's first arrived in New York.
Seeing Mr. Shue striding into the room, he made a mental note to ask. He'd probably say no, but Kurt's dignity demanded that he at least ask.
"Ok, ok everyone. I know you are all excited. I am very excited as well. National's here we come!"
Mr. Shue's exuberant cry elicited cheers and stamping feet from the assembled students. Smiling, he allowed them to indulge in a moment of excitement, before motioning for quiet.
"Ok, now I have all the permission slips, health forms, etc. Thank you for getting those back to me so promptly. As you know, I will be chaperoning the boys in one hotel room, and Coach Sylvester will be chaperoning the girls in another."
The audible groans of every girl in the choir room drowned out whatever Mr. Shue had been about to say next.
"Mr. Shue!"
Rachel Berry's hand had shot into the air with its typical excess of speed and exuberance.
"Mr. Shue, I object! Coach Sylvester is by no means an appropriate chaperone. She has already been telling me horrible things. Like how she's going to sacrifice a cat the night before the competition, and that we will all be sleeping on the floor, because the hotel beds will be crawling with bed bugs. I told her that she couldn't be sure about that, and she said she was sure because she'd be bringing the bugs herself!"
Mercedes jumped in before Mr. Shue could respond to Rachel's comments.
"Mr. Shue! She cut off a piece of my hair and told me she was donating it to kids with cancer, but I saw a voodoo doll in her office with my hair on it! And she said that on our tourist day, we were going to go all "Ocean's 11" and break into the main office of PETA to get her mink fur coat back"
Brittany revealed that Sue had told her that the bus would be powered by the running feet of families of penguins, living under the bus floor boards.
Santana informed them that Sue had warned her against hooking up with Brittany in their hotel room, telling her that the only "hot lesbian action" that was going to happen on this trip was going to be between her and Mr. Shue.
By the time Mr. Shue brought order back to the rioting group, their rehearsal time was almost up. Just as well, Kurt mused. They were all too keyed up to focus anyway. Maybe those ten hours on the bus could be used for practice.
Mr. Shue; looking worn out already, gave a few last minute instructions and reminded them to stop at the main office for their list of assignments. On top of all the stress of nationals, they had to bring their school books and keep up with their classes between practices and competition.
Now that he thought about it, Kurt worried that the ten hours each way on the bus wouldn't be nearly enough. He planned to cram all of his studying into it, as well as song practice, and going over every single page of last month's Vogue, Glamour, and Cosmopolitan magazines with Tina and Mercedes.
Grabbing his assignment list, he pushed all thoughts of the bus and even the upcoming competition to the back of his mind. He'd promised his dad a weekend of family time before he and Finn took off early Monday morning, so he was going to Dave's house to say goodbye tonight.
God, he didn't even like to think of the two words "Dave" and "goodbye" in the same sentence. It struck Kurt again in that moment how much he cared about the other boy. If he'd had a choice, he would have moved Nationals to Lima, if it meant that Dave could be there with him.
New York would be amazing. It was going to be wonderful to participate in Nationals and be a tourist and spend quality time with his amazing friends. But there was no question that if Dave had asked him to stay, he would have, with only a small hint of regret. He didn't know how he was going to make it a week without him.
Blinking back the tears that welled up in his eyes, Kurt chided himself for being ridiculous. It wasn't like he was going off to war or on an extended trip even. How hard could one week be anyway? If Allie and Noah could be apart for seven years on "The Notebook" surely he and Dave could last 7 days. Surely.
Mr. and Mrs. Karofsky were seated at the kitchen table when Kurt walked in the back door. It had taken him a while to be comfortable just walking into the Karofsky home. Burt Hummel had raised him to be respectful and mindful of social etiquette. It hadn't been until Mrs. K had threatened to smack him with a rolling pin, declaring that he was "practically and hopefully one day truly family" and family did NOT knock, that Kurt had begun his practice of entering without tapping the door.
Mrs. K looked up from the board game she and her husband were playing. Settlers of Catan again, Kurt saw, taking a quick step back. It was the Karofsky family's favorite game, and Kurt had been dragged into a few rounds before realizing that Karofsky's took their board games extremely seriously. The last round they had all played together had ended with Elly throwing her cards in the air and Dave stomping up to his room.
Edging his way out of the kitchen, he tossed a casual greeting at the pair, who'd barely raised their eyes to him, so intent were they on their game. At the sound of his voice, Mr. Karofsky stopped muttering about his sheep and ore cards and cast a relieved glance over at Kurt.
"Thank heavens you're here, Hummel! Can you please do something with that son of ours? He's been driving us crazy. First, he refuses to play Settlers...can you imagine? Who would refuse to play Settlers? Then, he's up and down the stairs every two seconds, dragging who the hell knows what up to his room, and he's peering out the window, looking for you. "
Mr. Karofsky took a deep breath, unaccustomed to such lengthy speeches. Spying his wife's hand reaching for a resource card, he yelped "Nicole! Put that card down!"
Shaking his head in exaggerated suffering, he smiled at Kurt.
"It's hard being the sane one in the relationship, isn't it? "
Kurt ears burned with Mrs. K's shrieking response, prompting him to sprint for the stairs before he could be embroiled in what looked like another contentious night of family games at the Karofsky house. Burning ears aside, he couldn't help but smile to himself as he climbed the stairs. It would always be interesting at Dave's house for the holidays. He sincerely hoped that he had the next 50 plus years to get adjusted to their madness.
Pausing in front of Dave's closed door, he noticed that there was some kind of flickering light gleaming out from under the door. Ohhh! Maybe the other boy had finally taken Kurt's advice and put up the Christmas lights! Eager to ascertain if his boyfriend had caved to his twice weekly admonishment about putting up twinkle lights around the edge of his room, Kurt pushed the door open.
And stopped in absolute astonishment.
Every surface except the floor and bed was covered in candles. Most of them were long white pillar candles, but Kurt spotted an assortment of what looked like Christmas candles, glade scented candles, and tea lights mixed in. In the middle of the bed sat a silver bucket, filled up with ice, and a bottle of sparkling cider. The tray next to it contained two wine glasses, a plate of chocolate covered strawberries, and a small cake, which, when Kurt peered closer, bore the words "Good luck, Kurt!"
Unable to keep the trembling smile from his face, Kurt felt it again. The warmth that Dave brought to his life. Dave got him, in a way that no one else did. He knew that Kurt needed reassurance before this separation, reaffirmation of their commitment to each other. He knew that Kurt dreamed of romantic gestures and candlelight.
Hearing the door creak open, he turned, eager to jump into the arms of his boyfriend. The most thoughtful, sweet boy on Earth. He got two steps before Dave; his arms full of roses, exploded.
"What are you doing here? No! Oh my gosh, I told my parents to tell me when you got here! You weren't supposed to be here for another 15 minutes...no, no...You have to get out! OUT!"
Before Kurt could get a single word in, or express his surprise and appreciation, he was being herded unceremoniously out the door. Kurt didn't know whether to be hurt or angry. He was mostly confused. Hadn't all of that stuff been for him anyway? Didn't the cake say "Good luck, Kurt? ?' Why was Dave so mad?
"Boys!" he muttered in frustration, slapping his hand against the hallway wall.
"Well, well, well. Trouble in paradise already, Kerby?"
Becky Jackson.
Finn was right. She did have radar. She popped up at the worst and craziest moments of Kurt's life, ready to pull him a few notches lower than he already was. Sue had taught her well.
"No, Becky. There is no trouble in paradise. I am waiting out here while Dave prepares something in his room. Something romantic" he added archly, attempting and failing to give her his best "so there" face.
Smirking, Becky stalked closer.
"So...his shoving you out the door was the first part of the romantic evening? Huh...I guess romance has changed since I last spent a romantic evening with a man. Which was yesterday. "
Kurt deliberately turned his back to her, leaning against the hall wall.
Not that it deterred her.
"You know, it could be that Davey is reconsidering this whole gay thing. Reminds me of when Coach and I got really into beef jerky for a week. Ate it for every meal. Now, the sight of it sickens me. Maybe you are Dave's beef jerky, hmm?"
"I am not Dave's beef jerky, Becky! I am no man's beef jerky!'
Kurt couldn't believe that he'd given into her provocation and yelled back. Not that she was listening. She was already half way down the stairs, laughing to herself, before he'd even been able to get a word out.
God, how had this night gone from amazing to completely sucky in 2 minutes flat? Kurt might as well go home. Then maybe Dave and Becky could have some cake together. Or beef jerky, whatever.
A hand clapped down on his shoulder, and Kurt jumped. Before he could ascertain what was happening, he was being spun around and pushed up against the wall. Surrounded. Enveloped in heat and the scent of Old Spice.
Leaning in, Dave brushed his mouth over his boyfriend's, muttering apologies.
"I'm sorry, babe. I'm sorry"
Feeling his bad mood start to lift away, Kurt couldn't help but follow Dave's teasing mouth with his own, desperately trying to get him to deepen the kiss. But Dave persisted in tormenting him with light, brushing kisses, his hands braced on the wall; his body leaned completely onto the smaller boys.
After a few minutes, the teasing caresses became too much for Kurt and he whimpered, pleading in a shaky voice for more.
Taking a deep breath, Dave leaned back from the embrace.
"I'm sorry, Kurt. I didn't mean to treat you like that. I just have been planning this night since you told me you were leaving and I wanted it to be perfect and I wanted to see the look on your face when you walked in and I...I just suck at this. I don't know how to do this...this romance thing. Yeah, I can write letters, but the face to face thing is so much harder. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen "
Kurt, shaking from his body's response to Dave's kisses, and awash with love and sympathy from Dave's confession of feeling inadequate as a boyfriend, smiled up at the taller boy.
"You" Kurt said, running his hand over Dave's cheek, "do romance perfectly. You take my breath away just by smiling at me. You are my fairy tale. My prince charming. My happily ever after. Got it, babe?"
Dave's shy smile and nod warmed Kurt to the core. Sighing he linked his hands with the other boy, and looking to his hazel eyes, which were sparkling with renewed light, asked
'Now..How was this supposed to happen?"
Dave; somewhat sheepishly, pulled a well worn and folded piece of paper from his pocket, handing it to Kurt. Kurt took the paper, smiling in puzzlement as he opened it. Looking down, he realized it was a page torn from a Ladies Home Journal; most likely Mrs. K's. Kurt had seen several on the coffee table. It was an article, titled "10 Steps to a Truly Romantic Evening".
Seeing the date on the corner of the page, Kurt realized that Dave had been planning this evening for some time. He'd made notes on the margins of the page, and had; Kurt realized, followed each step exactly to the letter. From the silver bucket, to the pillar candles, to rose petals.
Kurt swallowed audibly, his throat tight with emotion. Shortly after he'd acknowledged to himself that he was gay, he had acknowledged that he had a 'type'. His "type" was strong, confident, athletic boys. When he'd imagined his future with that type of boy, he'd envisioned a lifetime of him planning such nights for his boyfriend. But here was this boy; everything Kurt wanted- strong, confident, athletic, very much a man, and he had obviously carried this article around for some time, carefully following each instruction, and gathering supplies for a romantic evening with him. Kurt felt a physical sensation in the region of his heart. Almost a painful sense of joy, so sharp it caught his breath.
Smiling at the other boy, he turned, headed back into dangerous board game territory. Pausing, Kurt looked over his shoulder.
"I believe step one says to greet me at the door. I'll see you there".
They went through every step that night.
A romantic kiss of greeting at the door.
Dave walking Kurt into the room, his hands covering Kurt's eyes.
Kurt; seeing the completed room, had exclaimed in joy, finally getting his chance to jump into his boyfriends arms.
They'd toasted each other and the Glee Club with their sparkling cider.
They'd danced to their song (unchained melody) and also to "This Love" by Maroon 5, as Dave declared it their theme song during the week's separation.
Dave had fed Kurt chocolate covered strawberries.
Kurt had cut into his cake, feeding Dave a slice.
They'd laid on the rose petal covered bed, and read love poems to each other. Dave had chosen "I carry your heart with me" by e.e. Cummings. Kurt had chosen "My Love Is Like To Ice" by Edmund Spenser.
They'd kissed and caressed, telling each other everything they loved about the others body. This was; by far, Kurt's favorite list item.
The last item on the list had been to make love. Both of them wanted to, but knew that it wasn't the right time. Or the right place.
And so, Dave had substituted the last item with two gifts instead.
First, he'd given Kurt his favorite football jersey. He'd explained that he knew that Kurt got cold without him, and he wanted the smaller boy to have some part of him to help keep him warm while he was away this week.
Kurt's heart had melted and clutched the jersey close, as Dave reached for the other gift. Pulling a small jewelry box from his nightstand, he'd taken a deep breath, and handed it to Kurt, the shy smile of uncertainty on his face again.
Kurt stared at the box in disbelief, his eyes wide. Dave was giving him jewelry?
Opening the box, Kurt saw a simple silver chain laid on the velvet background.
Trying to hide his disappointment and bafflement, he painted a smile on his face and turned to his boyfriend.
Only to see him on one knee next to the bed, his championship football ring held out in front of him.
"Kurt Hummel. Will you wear my ring?"