When he gets home from school, his dad and Carole's cars are both still gone, but Finn's beaten him to the house. He walks in hoping to get a chance to talk to Dave before people start showing up and Blaine arrives.
Blaine's keeping him text-updated as he drives; he'll be earlier than Kurt thought.
Kurt walks through the door expecting Finn and the loud sounds of whatever video game he's obsessed with this afternoon. But Finn isn't in sight.
Dave's sitting on the couch. He's still in the jeans and t-shirt he was wearing that morning, but there's isn't much else about him that seems to match the guy Kurt left hours ago, the one grinning and slinging eggs.
Kurt smiles reflexively when Dave looks over, but the smile fades awkwardly. He moves to the couch and drops his book bag on the floor. "Hey."
"Hey."
Kurt sits down on the couch – it's awkward, yeah, but this is Dave. He's talked to Dave about things he never would have thought he'd ever talk about. They've been through pain and tears and the kind of despair Kurt can't believe even exists. A little awkwardness isn't about to send him fleeing.
"So." He looks out in the direction Dave's back to staring in, and there's nothing much there but the vague and distorted reflection of them on the black TV screen. "Albright wants us to write about what we did on our summer vacation."
Dave snorts quietly. "She's a couple months late for that particular banality, isn't she?"
"Nah, she says she wants us to reflect on it with the benefit of hindsight. Something about focusing on the expectations we had versus the reality of what actually happened. I'm starting to think she and Brittany have a lot in common, and maybe these assignments are coming from her cats." Kurt gestures over at his book bag. "Don't worry, I brought you plenty of Physics and Calculus to help you choke Albright down easier."
"Thanks."
Kurt smiles over at him, but Dave's profile stays neutral and unmoving.
Kurt sighs. "Okay, seriously. If this is about Blaine...you can't possibly hate him this much. You've only met him like twice. And yeah, they were pretty bad as meetings go, but...things are different now. For all of us."
Dave glances back behind him towards the stairs going up to the second floor. "Finn!" he shouts.
There are footsteps overhead, a door opening. "Five more minutes, dude! Rachel's having a Facebook meltdown." Door slams, footsteps thunder.
Dave sighs, but as he straightens he does actually look at Kurt. "Why's he coming here?"
"Blaine?" Kurt forgets about Finn instantly. "He's my boyfriend."
"So he's skipping school out of the blue to come hang out?" Dave faces the TV again, tense. "You asked him to come."
"Yeah."
Dave's eyebrows lift, but he stays silent.
Kurt knows what he wants, but...just like when he called Dave earlier, there isn't an easy version of this answer. Not when Dave's the one he's talking to.
"I think he can help," he says finally. "He's been a lot of help to me, he can help you, too."
"You're helping me." Dave stares at the TV with so much focus Kurt wants to glance over and make sure it's still shut off.
"I can't be the only one," Kurt says, and that instant answer is so much more honest than what he told his dad or Mercedes that he's almost surprised at himself. "I can't be the only person who can help, Dave. I can't handle it. I don't know what I'm doing, and I'm petrified of screwing it up and making things worse."
Dave flinches a little. "Your dad set me up with some new doctor after school on Monday."
"That's good. I'll take you, I'll be there for that." Kurt smiles hesitantly. "If this doctor is any good, then...yeah, I might feel a little bit better about everything. But."
Dave nods once, short. "But that's not the only reason you want him here."
Kurt looks away from his clenched jaw and tightly controlled profile. "Everything in my life right now revolves around you. I want something that's mine again."
Another surprise, but...maybe not. Maybe Kurt just hasn't admitted it to himself, but hearing himself say those words doesn't shock him. He is, after all, a rather self-obsessed teenage boy. He's done a lot for Dave, he's grown up a lot more than he wanted to in the last month or so.
He misses his old life. He misses the time Before, when he was optimistic about the world and thought that slushies and getting elected Prom Queen were the limits of people's cruelty. He doesn't know why everyone else seems to think Blaine coming is a bad idea, but he has reasons. And they're good ones, for him.
His dad is right – if Blaine ends up doing Dave more harm than good, Kurt will send him back up to Westerville. But if he simply doesn't do Dave any good? He'll still be good for Kurt.
So much has changed in the last few weeks. The people in his life have been stacked in the wrong order somehow. Re-ranked, in order of their importance to him. No one is where they should be.
Blaine should be right where he was before Dave was hurt. His relationship with Kurt hasn't changed, he should still be as prominent in Kurt's mind as he used to be. He should be the one Kurt wants to call every night and text during school. He's the one Kurt should instantly think about when something funny happens and Kurt wants to share it with someone.
That's the proper order of things. But it isn't how things have happened lately. Blaine isn't the first person Kurt thinks about anymore.
Kurt has to set that right. Or...he has to at least be able to figure out why things have changed so much, and why Kurt didn't notice it while it was happening. He needs to know if, like everything else lately, it's all because of Dave and what happened.
Dave stands up, not bothering to respond to Kurt's last words.
Kurt reaches out instantly, catching him by the wrist. "Don't be mad about this. Please. I told you...I wouldn't change where I am now. I want to be here for you, I just..."
Dave looks over Kurt's head towards the stairs. "Come on, Kurt, how the hell could I be mad at something like that?"
"So why are you walking away?"
"Because. I can't fucking argue with it. And I can't do anything about it. Finn!"
Kurt jumps at the shout, releasing Dave's arm unconsciously.
Finn's door slams after a moment and he thunders down the stairs. "Sorry! Sorry, dude. One of Rachel's dads told her her face looked puffy, so she's threatening...I dunno, either suicide or anorexia. Though I'm pretty sure she's kidding. Hard to tell when she flips out like this." He's pulling keys out of his pocket as he reaches the bottom of the stairs. "You ready? Hey, Kurt."
"Yeah." Dave strides to the door fast and takes off without a look back at Kurt.
"Wait." Kurt gets to his feet fast. "Hey. Finn, where are you guys going?"
Finn stops in the doorway and shrugs. "I'm just taking him by his dad's place, guess he left his car there. Says he's got some stuff to do tonight, didn't want to bug anyone for a ride."
Kurt's throat works. "He's not going to be here tonight?"
Another shrug. "I dunno, dude. You didn't ask him?" He's out the door before Kurt can answer.
Kurt stands there for a moment, unsure how to react to...to anything that's happened since he got home, really.
When Finn shows up for dinner alone and tells them casually that Dave says not to save him anything, Burt and Carole both shoot Kurt unreadable looks before going on with dinner.
By the time the doorbell rings, Kurt's so ready to get away from that table he all but leaps to his feet and blurts some chunk of words that amounts to 'I'll get it, you guys stay where you are, and may I be excused from dinner?' but in about a half a second rush of syllables.
And then he opens the door and Blaine is there, smiling, instantly reaching out to hug him. It's maybe not a good sign that Kurt isn't sure if he's happier to see Blaine or to just get a hug in with someone.
He hauls Blaine upstairs without a word to anyone – he can say hi to Kurt's family later.
Blaine goes along willingly, turning raised eyebrows and a smile on Kurt once the door has shut, closing them safely in Kurt's bedroom. "Hi there."
Kurt grins back. "Hi."
"I guess you missed me."
He goes to Blaine, seals him in another hug. "It's been a strange day. Sorry."
Blaine wraps him up instantly, and Kurt shuts his eyes to enjoy the familiarity of his boyfriend. The starch in his clothes, the faint touches of cologne. The expensive fruity tang of that hair gel he pays seventy dollars a jar for. It feels right, and something inside of him relaxes, something he didn't even realize was tense.
He pulls back after a moment, satisfied.
"Hey..." Blaine's warm smile fades, his brow furrows. "What's going on? I guess 'strange day' isn't a good thing?"
"Not really." He grabs Blaine's hand and steers him over to Kurt's bed, and they sit.
It's easy, it's normal. It's what Kurt knows. Blaine and this casual physicality. If Kurt feels disconnected from it, it's only because he hasn't had Blaine around in so long. That's all.
"So? Tell me. What's wrong?"
Kurt meets his boyfriend's caring eyes and he wants to avoid answering. He wants to keep this about him and Blaine for a while longer.
But he can't. Kurt can't let himself use his own mood as a reason to avoid his bigger problems.
"Dave's gone," he says, pressing the words out with some difficulty, since Dave is tension, and Blaine is calmness.
Blaine's warm smile fades. "Gone?"
"Just...for a while. Errands, or something. He didn't even tell me..." Kurt sighs, looking down at his lap, away from Blaine's eyes. "He's mad about this. You."
Blaine doesn't seem surprised. "He doesn't know me like you do. I'm sure he's convinced I can't do him any good being here."
"Probably." Kurt smiles wryly. "It's not as if the two of you have the best history."
"That might be a good thing," Blaine answers, voice light and cheerful. "All he has to do is not grab me or shove me, and it will be the most successful run-in the two of us have ever had."
Kurt laughs, but without much real humor. "He isn't that person anymore." It feels strange to talk about Dave in this context. Strange to talk about him with Blaine. This isn't like talking about him over the phone or sitting in a diner an hour's drive from here. His two worlds are colliding, and maybe that would be jarring even if it was completely calm and easy.
"So what are your plans for the next few days?" Blaine asks suddenly, pulling Kurt out of his thoughts. "How are we going to help someone like David Karofsky feel more at home in our world?"
Kurt shrugs. "I have a few ideas. Silly things, the mall and Breadstix and...you know, just being out in public, so he can get used to the idea that no one's going to throw stones. Otherwise...we can just hang out here. Be ourselves, let him see that we're the same as any normal couple." He looks over, because Blaine is smarter about these sorts of things than Kurt is. "Does that sound remarkably lame? I'm open to suggestions, seriously."
Blaine reaches out and takes his hand again smoothly. "It sounds perfect. It would be a bit much to hit him with a Pride Parade or a night out at a gay bar. We should look into whether there's a meeting around the city anywhere this weekend – maybe another school nearby has a GSA. I know Lima doesn't have a PFLAG chapter, but somewhere within driving distance might."
Kurt smiles at that. He hadn't thought about meetings. It might still be a bit much for Dave, but as long as he doesn't have to talk, he'd probably be okay with it.
"You think it's too soon to try to find him a boyfriend?"
Kurt blinks. His smile fades. "What?"
Blaine shrugs. "It's probably the most effective way to get someone comfortable with their sexuality," he says with a small smile. "If you want to make the drive all the way up to Westerville, I know a couple of boys who seem to like that type."
Kurt laughs. It feels strange. "What's 'that type'?"
"Well, you know. Physically, that type. The only other gay Warblers are taken, but I know for a fact that my dorm mate last year is still single, and judging from the size of his Vin Diesel film collection I'd say he'd be more than happy to give Karofsky a try."
Kurt can picture Blaine's room mate from last year. A slender, tall boy with orange hair and freckles, but gorgeous bright blue eyes.
Dana. That's his name. He's an idiot. He laughs like something's stuck in his throat. Kurt has to smirk at that even as he shakes his head.
"Too soon. Way too soon."
Dave would never get past his name being Dana. He's also way too smart for someone who wears out Vin Diesel movies. And too funny to have to put up with someone who laughs like he's choking.
"No," he says again. "No way. Bad idea. Just...way too soon."
Blaine's eyebrows are hiked when Kurt focuses on him again. "Just an idea," he says mildly.
"Forget it. I don't know if Dave's got a type yet, but Dana?"
"I get the point, Kurt."
Kurt shoots Blaine a grin, still amused.
Blaine seems less enthusiastic suddenly. He tightens his grip on Kurt's hand and his smile seems a little wan. "You know? We've got plenty of time to think about Karofsky. This is the first time I've had you all to myself in a while. We should take a little time to enjoy it, hmm?"
Kurt returns his smile easily. "What did you have in mind?" he asks, eyes wide and innocent.
Blaine chuckles softly and leans in, slipping his hand to curl around Kurt's shoulder.
And it's nice. It is. Blaine is a great kisser, and Kurt's not had a chance to experience that enough lately. It feels a little less comfortable in his own bedroom with his family downstairs than it did back at Dalton, but even with a little bit of awkwardness there's still not much to dislike about making out with his boyfriend.
It's nice, too, because it relaxes Kurt a little bit about the whole stacking order of people in his life. With Blaine here, smiling at him and touching his arm so gently and kissing him until his mouth feels swollen, it's hard to imagine that anyone could ever become more important to Kurt than he is.
Family, then boyfriend, then friends. That's how it ought to go. And for a while up in Kurt's bedroom, that's exactly how it feels.
But the moment Kurt hears a thump from downstairs, his mind acts without his consent. Instantly his focus is away from that bedroom, listening carefully, waiting for...
...that, the sound of heavy footsteps plodding up the stairs.
He drops his hands from Blaine's shirt and jumps to his feet. "Finally!" And until that moment he doesn't realize just how worried he's been.
Kurt all but runs over to his door, tugging it open to move out into the hall, to meet Dave on his way up.
Dave appears a moment later, wary, obviously having heard him moving around up there. He eyes Kurt as he turns in from the stairs.
Kurt closes the distance between them fast, and aims a nice hard punch square at Dave's arm. "I was worried about you!"
Dave seems surprised by that greeting, but his tense shoulders relax and he flashes a tight, uncertain smile in return. "Sorry. I figured Finn would fill you in."
"You think Finn pays any attention to anything? All I know is I worry when I can't keep track of you every waking moment."
"Christ, Fancy." Dave's grin softens, relaxes. "Way to make a guy paranoid. If you want the details, you fucking stalker, I had to get my truck. And a few other things I left." He gestures at himself, at this lumpy, oversized brown-and-a-different-brown flannel shirt he's wearing that he didn't leave the house in. "I made sure to grab this one 'cause I knew you'd love it."
"I do love it, actually," Kurt answers. "In fact, next time we go fishin down at the crick I'm fixin tuh borruh it."
"Shut up," Dave says through his rumble of a laugh. "Judgmental little princess."
Kurt is so relieved, both that Dave is now home and that he's laughing with Kurt again, that he grabs him by a broad arm, willingly touching that redneck nightmare of a shirt, and steers him down the hall towards his door. "I've decided that I really don't like it when you're ticked off at me."
"And here I thought you give me so much shit because you're trying for ticked off." Dave slows suddenly and looks over at him. "I just...needed some space. You know?"
"No. But I can imagine." Kurt meets his eyes for a moment, and the last of his tension from earlier seeps away. "It's okay. Just remember what I said. Even when I'm scared of all of this, I still don't want to be anywhere but right here."
"Yeah." Dave nods, his cheeks pinking a little. "I'm kinda starting to believe it when you say shit like that."
Kurt's bedroom door swings open.
Kurt sees Dave's reaction first: the return of all his tension, the disappearance of his smile.
He looks over at Blaine a second later, and his own grin goes a little crooked. He's oddly aware, suddenly, that they're standing a bit close and that Kurt's arm is still hooked around Dave's, which might look a little bit possessive.
He doesn't move, because he's not doing anything strange or wrong or anything. But he's really aware of it.
He smiles before anyone can say anything. "Okay! Time for introductions! Dave, this is my boyfriend, Blaine. Blaine, this is my friend Dave." He glances at Blaine, less than subtle. "My good friend, Dave. And I really hope you two hit it off, because if things are strained and awkward it would make my life less pleasant. Which is something I can't stand. Okay?"
Blaine smiles, but it's small and automatic. He looks from Kurt to Dave, but steps out into the hall and stretches out his hand, playing along. "Nice to meet you, Dave. For the very first time ever."
"Yeah." Dave sends a somewhat more wry look at Kurt, but shakes Blaine's outstretched hand quickly. "Blaine, huh?"
Kurt sees some little flash of amusement in his eyes, and wonders if he's having to fight against calling him 'Bleh', and despite himself he has to fight back a grin. "Good boys. No reason at all why we can't all be friends."
"Of course not," Blaine agrees. "At least Dave doesn't look like he's particularly prone to violent outbursts. That's a good start."
Kurt's smile fades a little. He sends Blaine a warning look.
"Outbursts? Nah, not as long as nobody's shouting about my private shit in the middle of my school. Or trying to bitch at me for, like, gaying the wrong way or something. That's nothing a guy like you would do, huh, Blaine?"
Blaine smiles at that, tight.
Kurt clears his throat. "Okay. That was a form of polite. Good enough for the first day." He points back to his door. "Blaine, retreat to your corner. I'll be in to lecture you in a minute."
Blaine studies him, then sends another look at Dave, but he steps back and slips into the bedroom without a word.
Kurt sighs. "Dave, come on, you get your lecture first."
Dave shoots him a grin but leads Kurt into his own little bedroom. He fishes a set of keys out of his pocket and tosses them over on the bedside table. "He started it."
"Oh my god, I am not going to grade school with you." Kurt pushes the door shut and frowns at Dave, but he can't really hold on to it. "Are we...really, are we okay?"
Dave shrugs, his grin fading. He drops to sit on the bed, heavy and graceless as usual. "We're not bad. I don't know." He nods towards the door. "If you're really thinking Dan Quayle and I are gonna become pals, you're not gonna come out of the next few days happy."
"I can handle edged politeness," Kurt concedes. "But it's not what I'm going for. If you gave each other half a chance..." He sighs. "I mean, you can't hate Blaine – he's practically me, and you adore me, shut up, you totally do. He can't hate you either, because he's practically me and I adore you so much. Right?"
Dave smiles faintly. "Whoever it was who told you that you and Dapper Dan in there are practically the same person...you ought to smack them around. Or send them my way so I can do it."
Kurt laughs, moving to the bed to sit, hiking one knee up to face Dave. "Everybody says it. He's more like me than anyone else I've ever met."
Dave sends him a dubious look. "Fancy. He's prep school, and you're you. You've got this weird-ass sense of style, sure, but that prim and proper prep shit ain't it. If he wasn't queer as a double rainbow he'd practically be a Young Republican, at least compared to you. Probably got a fucking 401k started already."
Kurt almost chokes at that. "Now you're just being malicious. You obviously don't know him, okay? Which is what we're going to fix the next few days."
"Whatever. It's your freak show, dude, I'm just a guest-star." Dave waves his hand towards the door. "Get lost, go lecture the Brooks Brothers mannequin. I'm wiped out."
Kurt rolls his eyes but stands. "Fine." But he pauses with his hand on the doorknob, looking back at Dave more seriously. "Are you really okay? Taking off like that..."
"Sorry." Dave shrugs, stretching his legs out and toeing off his worn sneakers. "Guess I was just getting used to...you know. This, my life now. Didn't think I'd take it so hard when something changed. Even for a few days."
"Neither did I," Kurt admits. "If I didn't think it would help..."
"I know. That's the irritating thing about you, Fancy. You really think this shit will help."
Kurt smiles automatically, but Dave's grin is a little uneven and Kurt isn't sure of what that means. Is it a joke or not? Is he really irritated at Kurt for this idea? Or maybe just mad that he can't get irritated, since he knows Kurt means well? Or...?
"You fret louder than anyone I ever met, Hummel." Dave stands up with a grin. "Unless you wanna stay for a peepshow, get out so I can go to fucking bed." He peels off that ridiculous flannel shirt and tosses it into a corner of the floor, leaving him in his t-shirt from that morning.
Kurt's face heats, but at least that quells his fretting. "Your cruelty towards your clothes should be enough to put a stop to our friendship. I want you to know that I'm bigger than that, though. Also...you have really nice arms. It's kind of unfair to cover them up like you do all the time."
Okay, yeah, his face has got to be red by now. And why does he talk? Honestly, he ought to have some internal mute button by now.
He can't even look at Dave. He pulls the door open. "Good night, Dave."
"...night, Fancy."
No point in wondering why he said something about Dave's arms of all things. No point letting himself wonder about why Dave's last words sounded so hushed. God, if he's really confused lately about the people in his life and who's become more prominent in his thoughts...he isn't doing himself any favors. He's not making things any clearer.
He moves to his bedroom door and hesitates for a moment, glancing back at Dave's door and wondering if it's a bad sign that he feels a little guilty.
When he moves into his room it's with the widest grin he can push onto his face. "You're lucky I'm not in the mood to bitch at you about that passive-aggressive introduction just now."
Blaine looks up from his phone. "He started it."
Kurt's dad stands over them and watches as they assemble a pallet on the floor for Blaine to sleep on. And when he's satisfied he walks out the door, leaving it wide open behind him, with a 'good night, boys' and a 'touch that door and Blaine sleeps downstairs on the couch'.
Kurt loves his dad, but honestly.
Still, Blaine settles in without complaint, and for a while he and Kurt talk in the darkness, quiet, about random things that are happening at Dalton and McKinley, and how Mercedes is doing, and Blaine's plans for Sectionals. Little things that they would normally text about around this time of night.
If Kurt mentions Dave once or twice, it's no real surprise. Kurt is worried about him, after all. He smiled and laughed and made fun of Blaine as if everything was fine, but one thing Kurt has learned about Dave is that everything being fine one moment means absolutely nothing for the moment coming after it.
He falls asleep halfway through a comment about the levels of cliché that would be required to do a Grease medley at any competition ever, anywhere.
He wakes up to the slamming of a door and the harsh sound of gagging.
It's louder with the door open.
Kurt pushes out of bed on instinct – he's used to this by now, and that's really depressing to realize. He even keeps a glass of water on the table by his bed so he doesn't have to go all the way downstairs. He picks up the water and steps around Blaine as he snores, and moves out into the hallway.
Dave emerges after a few minutes, pale and shaking and drawn. He reaches for the glass – they're both used to this – and follows when Kurt leads the way back to Dave's room.
Dave only takes a sip of the water before he hands it back. "Didn't eat dinner," he explains, his throat scraped-sounding. "The bright side being...nothing to puke up."
Kurt smiles vaguely as Dave climbs back into bed. He sits down on the edge of the mattress, tugging the sheets around him absently. "It's been a couple of days since last time, at least."
"Yeah." Dave doesn't sound glad about that. "I almost thought..."
Kurt sighs. "I'm no therapist, but I think there's a while to go before they stop entirely."
Dave mumbles a curse under his breath, but nods. He turns on his side, facing Kurt but not looking up at him. "I just want to sleep, Kurt. Jesus."
"You will." Kurt reaches out, smoothing sweat-limp hair off of Dave's forehead. "You'll fall asleep now and you'll sleep until morning. And next time you have another dream...the same thing will happen."
Dave's eyes are already shutting, heavy. He mumbles something against his pillow, something that sounds like an apology.
Kurt likes to stay until he's completely asleep. Dave's tried faking it a few times, and the next day he's usually exhausted. If he falls asleep with Kurt there, he sleeps. If not, he doesn't.
Kurt hums quietly, absently, stroking through Dave's hair. It helps him more than Dave, maybe, but he likes the gesture. He likes how soothing it feels.
After a few minutes he figures it's safe, and he pulls his hand back and falls silent, watching.
Dave's eyes open, heavy and bloodshot. They're both used to this routine, after all. Dave knows if Kurt leaves he'll never get to sleep on his own.
Kurt smiles sadly and takes up his humming again.
It's the tension, he thinks. It's everything coming up. A weekend with Blaine, school on Monday, a meeting with a new therapist. Kurt should have expected it, really. There's too much going on.
He should talk to Blaine in the morning – he didn't think about what they would do while Kurt's in school. This is a big house, but Dave and Blaine should maybe not be alone in it together for eight solid hours.
Dave's eyes close, and he sinks into the pillow.
Kurt smiles and reaches out, smoothing his fingers up and down his arm, light and gentle. He starts singing quietly, under his breath, a sweet and ridiculously corny song from one of Webber's truly horrible musicals.
"Whistle down the wind, let your voices carry
Drown out all the rain, light a patch of darkness treacherous and scary
Howl at the stars, whisper when you're sleeping
I'll be there to hold you, I'll be there to stop the chills and all the weeping
Make it clear and strong, so the whole night long
Every signal that you send until the very end,
I will not abandon you, my precious friend..."
He trails off after a while, smiling to think of the kind of expression Dave would be staring at him with if he were awake and hearing those lyrics. No one is quite so good at being truly horrible as Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber.
Whistle Down the Wind is a good test of consciousness on its own, but he lingers for another quiet minute, making sure. When he finally slides off the bed and moves quietly to the door, Dave doesn't stir.
In his bedroom Blaine is sitting up on his pallet, leaning his back against Kurt's bed. He squints up at Kurt as he comes in, until Kurt flips off the hallway light and they're just black blurs in the darkness again. Kurt moves around Blaine and sits on his bed. Blaine shifts, laying back on the floor.
When he speaks maybe it's the darkness making Blaine sound so hushed. "Does that happen often?"
"Every night," Kurt says, pulling up his covers tight around his shoulders and staring out into the darkness. "Well...it's a little better now than it was."
There's silence for a minute. Blaine sighs a bit and shifts on the floor, and just when it seems he's settled back to sleep he speaks again softly.
"I'll try harder tomorrow."
Kurt almost smiles.