A/N: This chapter was heavily influenced by the song "Sheets" by Damien Jurado. I would highly recommend listening to it.

Chapter 14

Returns and Revelations

oOo

Wednesday, 1 January 2025

9:15 am

Kurt laid in bed, his eyes watering as he stared at the blinding strip of light just beginning to peek in through the blinds of his window as the sun rose above the skyscrapers, signaling the start of a new day-the first day of the New Year. And yet, he had no desire to get out of bed and get started on his New Year's resolutions (not that he made any), as the vast majority of the population was apt to do. Instead, he groaned, rolled over, and pulled his comforter with him to block out the light.

His face itched and he scrubbed his eyes with the fabric, trying to rub away the dried salt of his tears that had accumulated throughout the night. He wasn't sure when he managed to fall asleep, or when he managed to stop crying, but judging by his inability to get out of bed, it was was not nearly long enough ago.

He stayed on the rooftop long enough to see the fireworks with Finn and Rachel. Somehow, he managed to keep it together to not cause the two any concern, and once he witnessed the lackluster display of blurred, explosive lights, he excused himself to return to his apartment downstairs much to Rachel and Finn's dismay. Once inside, he stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed, completely neglecting any of his usual pre-bedtime beauty regimes, and cried.

Damn Karofsky. Damn him for thinking he had changed. How dare he throw his divorce in his face like that? How dare he attempt to understand what it was like ending an eight-year marriage as opposed to a measly year-long relationship.

Kurt rolled over in bed once more, slumping his head in indignation against his pillow, feeling grateful for not having to work that holiday. The last thing he wanted to do was face endless questions due to his current emotional state. He was quite adamant about staying in bed for the rest of the day if he could help it.

Just as he closed his eyes once more, he could hear the sound of a door slam above him. He growled in annoyance, knowing what that sound was signaling if the two sets of raised voices told him anything. Similar instances had happened in the handful of months since he moved in. Travis and Dave often fought, Kurt came to discover. If he was an impatient man, he probably would have gone upstairs months ago to give the occupants a piece of his mind, which meant discovering Dave to be his upstairs neighbor sooner. But strangely enough, it wasn't the fighting that bothered him so much as what came after the storm.

oOo

"Can we please stop talking about this?" Dave huffed as he slammed the door of his apartment behind him. Travis wouldn't shut up the entire cab ride back from the airport. Dave was glad most people were in bed nursing their hangovers from the night before and fewer had to go to work that day. At least the ride back to the apartment wasn't nearly as long as it could have been. He had his own version of a headache to deal with, however, and his name was Travis Moore.

"I am just saying," Travis stated for the fourth time through gritted teeth, causing Dave to roll his eyes so much that it hurt, "that if you were actually organized for once in your life and set reminders on your phone, you wouldn't be late in picking me up from the airport and I wouldn't have to call you twelve times in an attempt to wake you."

"And I'm just saying," Dave rebutted, dropping the suitcase on the couch with a grunt, "that if you were so concerned about getting home at a certain time then you could have just taken a cab home rather than wait for me."

"David, please." Travis stood in the foyer with one hand on his waist and the other threading through his coppery hair that looked strangely more sunkissed than the last time Dave saw him.

"I really don't want to argue after this ordeal of a trip," Travis said as if he hadn't been the one to start the squabble in the first place. Dave seethed in silence. "I just want two things right now," Travis purred, his movements just as catlike as his words as he slunk over to Dave. "One is an incredibly hot shower. And the second…" Travis slipped his hands up Dave's chest. He felt his mouth go dry as Travis' breath ghosted against his skin and his lips grazed the shell of his ear. "Is for you to fuck me." He pulled away and Dave could feel his hot anger transmute into arousal at the sight of Travis' lip between his teeth as he pulled away.

"Why not kill two birds with one stone?" Dave grunted as the thrum of arousal snapped, elastic-like, as his lips crashed against Travis'. He immediately felt the heat pooling in his stomach as Travis shoved his tongue past his lips, both hands on either side of Dave's face. Dave grunted as he pressed Travis against the door of the coat closet. The press of their lips and the tangling of their tongue was as heated as their words as they oft flung at each other. Dave broke away from Travis panting, and Travis' lips chased his with a nip, like punctuation at the end of an argument.

"Bedroom?" Travis asked huskily as he ground his hips convincingly against Dave's. Dave could only nod as he followed his boyfriend into the darkened room.

oOo

Kurt sniffed as he padded barefoot into his bedroom. The cold linoleum of the kitchen floor was bracing and woke him up almost immediately. He still killed for a cup of coffee, however, so he pulled open the cupboard and grabbed his Damn, It Feels Good To Be A Diva mug.

From the floor above, he thought he could hear the faint groans followed by the sound of running water.

That was strange. Normally Dave and Travis' fights lasted a lot longer than one slam of a door.

Kurt opened the cupboard and pulled out a container that held his coffee grinds and began preparing his morning coffee. A part of him wanted to leave his apartment to get a cup, knowing what was about to ensue, but he didn't have it in him. He wanted nothing more than to mope about his apartment for the rest of the day after what had taken place the night before. He couldn't stop ruminating over his fight with Dave. He spooned the coffee grinds a little too aggressively into the filter so that some spilled onto the counter. He sighed and walked over to his sink and grabbed a damp washcloth to brush the mess into his hands. How could Dave not believe him when he told him that Travis was cheating on him? Kurt could once again feel the knot of betrayal forming in his throat as he washed his hands of the mess he made, wishing that he could wash the thought of Dave and Travis away as easily.

After drying his hands off he grabbed a glass of water and filled it so it was almost full and poured it into the water receptacle of the coffee maker. Once he turned it on, it began to steam and hiss much like he was on the inside.

Going back to the living room, Kurt collapsed on the couch and grabbed the remote. As he searched his recorded shows on the DVR, he could hear the running water turn off from Dave's apartment. Shaking his head and trying to take his mind off of his "neighbors", Kurt turned on the latest episode of Season 17 of Drag Race. Much to his dismay, he could hear the squeak of bedsprings from the ceiling and what sounded like the weight of more than one body collapsing into a mattress.

Kurt cursed under his breath as he turned up the volume to the television, but to no avail. The volume of the performances on the screen was not enough to drown out the thumping of what sounded like a headboard against a wall.

Kurt stood up abruptly and pounded his way back to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of the rich liquid. Without preparing the cup as he usually did with his cream and sugar, he drank the liquid immediately, not allowing for it to cool. It scalded his throat just enough to distract him from what he knew was happening above him and the heat only added to the warmth that was accumulating in his cheeks.

Kurt shook his head and could only think of how Travis was being undressed by Dave, caressed with his strong hands, and Travis was probably running his hands up Dave's large biceps to even wider shoulders. Kurt plopped down on the couch and set his mug down on the coffee table and threw his head back, covering his tired, raw eyes with his hands, unable to escape the growing heat in his stomach that had nothing to do with his anger towards Travis.

Kurt let out a muffled moan and he couldn't help but bite his lip and he reached down, adjusting himself. He let out a shaky yet mortified sigh as he jumped up abruptly, almost knocking over his cup of coffee. His pajama pants were uncomfortably tight and the knot of Dave's betrayal quickly turned to shame as he imagined someone with brunette hair and pale skin, rather than Travis' ginger hair and freckly skin, pressed against Dave. What the hell was wrong with him? He exhaled shakily, trying not to adjust himself once more to avoid his traitorous thoughts that wanted to supply his imagination with a hand much rougher and wider and tanner than his own. He stormed to the bathroom to take a cold shower of his own.

oOo

Dave rolled over in bed with a grunt, the sheets sticking to his back, which was dotted with fresh sweat and leftover shower water.

"Fuck," Travis groaned and Dave closed his eyes, already wishing he wasn't there. Every fucking time. Every single time he caved. He was weak, he knew he was. Every single time they fought, and then they fucked, and nothing got solved.

"I'm going to need another shower after that," Travis chuckled as he rolled away from Dave, sitting up in bed without an ounce of affection nor afterglow to share. Dave sighed, saying nothing. He could almost pretend to be asleep. He could hear Travis rustling around in his bedroom, probably cleaning himself off, before returning to the bathroom. Dave gritted his teeth and pulled off the condom and chucked it in the wastebin on the other side of his end table.

"Babe, would you mind starting a load of laundry, I don't know if I have any other clean clothes here." Travis' voice floated in from the bathroom, lacking it's earlier contempt. At least Dave managed to fuck that out of him for know.

"Sure," Dave said with such quiet resignation that he wasn't even sure if Travis heard him, especially over the sound of running water.

Dave sat up, his movements feeling robotic as he grabbed his pajama pants off the chair in the corner of his room and stepped into them before going to the living room to root through Travis's luggage.

Dave unzipped the case and began pulling out wrinkled clothes and dropping them on the floor to create a small pile next to him.

'Weird,' Dave thought, as he noticed that much of the clothing seemed to be more appropriate for a cool night rather than the frigid winter of England or New York. Dave shook his head.

'Maybe he wore a lot of layers', he justified to himself as he tossed out the last sock from the bottom of the case, leaving just a few items such as hairbrushes and travel-sized toiletries. As Dave picked up the pile to take to the washer, he felt something stick to the bottom of his foot. Frowning, Dave lifted his foot up to examine it and discovered an opened condom wrapper.

Dave froze before dropping the clothing in its entirety. He plucked the small square packet off of his bare foot and turned it over to examine it closer.

Definitely not his size.

He would have laughed if he wasn't so full of the sinking feeling of dread.

"David! Have you seen my bath salts? I'm thinking I need a nice relaxing bath after that flight, actually."

Dave had to clear his throat as his mouth was parched and somehow managed to speak.

"I think I moved them under the sink," Dave said, his voice rough. He blinked, still in shock. The condom wrapper, he realized, was clutched in his hand. He needed answers. Answers he knew Travis would never give him.

Dave looked towards his bedroom where Travis was preparing his bath, and then he glanced at Travis's leather travel bag on top of the kitchen table. He knew with every ounce of his being that it wasn't right, but he didn't care anymore. The condom wrapper, Travis' delayed flight, his attire… None of it added up.

With his heart thudding almost as loud as the water rushing out of the tap in the other room, Dave pulled the zipper open to the bag and pulled out the small stack of travel documents and rifled through them already, noticing the lack of a passport that he would need to get in and out of the United States. And then he found what he was looking for, the plane ticket, and what he was not expecting, the initials JFK to LAX.

Dave closed his eyes as he felt the sound drown out from the rest of the world only to be replaced by the thrum of the blood rushing in his ears.

He closed his fist tightly around the plane ticket, too.

There was no reason for Travis to be in California. Any excuses Travis could come up with would have expired months when he completed his last project - a house he designed for some rich lawyer.

"David, before I forget would you mind-" Travis said, coming out of the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, and then he froze as he spotted Dave standing at the kitchen table with an empty condom wrapper in one hand and his plane ticket in the other.

Dave turned to him, clenching and unclenching his teeth, as he struggled to keep his breathing under control, trying not to forget what his years of therapy taught him.

"Who's in California?" He asked simply.

Dave didn't miss Travis' eyes flickering towards the door, his only escape. Unless he was truly desperate and wanted to attempt his jump from the seventh-floor window. Dave was starting to like that option.

"What are you talking about?" Travis stammered, "and why are you going through my things?"

Dave ignored the second question.

"Fine, allow me to rephrase: Who are you fucking in California." Dave waved the empty wrapper angrily and Travis crossed his arms and rolled his eyes.

"I'm not fucking anyone in California, David, it's… It's just an old wrapper."

Dave licked his lips and looked away. He couldn't believe Travis was still lying to him. He should have listened to Kurt.

Why didn't he just listen to Kurt?

"Unless you suddenly became a fucking top or my dick decided to shrink," Dave growled, turning back to his soon-to-be ex-boyfriend, "who are you seeing in California, Travis?" Dave shouted as he threw the wrapper, which drifted, as pathetically as Travis' attempts to avoid answering his questions, to the ground.

"Ouch, you wound me, David," Travis snarled. "First you accuse me of cheating and now you want to chastise me about my cock size?"

"Answer the fucking question or leave, Travis. I'm sick of this shit. I'm sick of your lying, and I'm sick of falling for your fucking bullshit. 'My flight was delayed!'" Dave mocked with what he knew was a horrible fake British accent. This time Dave crumbled up the plane ticket and threw it at Travis' feet. "You finished that job in California months ago, Travis, so why are you telling me you're going home to visit family when you're in another fucking state. What, you got a boyfriend on both sides of the country now?" Dave watched as Travis raised his chin somewhat in defiance and looked away. And Dave laughed in disbelief.

"So I'm right then?" Dave hissed. "Let me ask you this, are you playing both of us or does he know you're a massive fucking cheater as well?" Dave cocked his head. Finally, Travis turned to look at Dave, his eyes full of malice unlike he had ever seen. And to think they had just slept together only minutes ago.

"Perhaps I was just biding my time with someone with actual ambition, as I waited for you to pull your head out of your arse and go back to your real job rather than watching you waste your time and money on this idiotic book idea of yours. Tell me, David, exactly how much writing did you accomplish while I was gone this entire week or better yet, how much money did you make? Oh, let me guess, hmm... " He put a finger to his chin mockingly, "Oh, I know! None."

Dave clenched his fists and resisted the urge to throw something at Travis.

As much as he wanted a straight answer from the man, he already knew the answer to who he was sleeping with. The same reason he had to go to California for months to meet with his client before his team of builders could remodel his home. Someone with ambition. The goddamn fucking lawyer...

"You know what, Travis. If you care about money so much… " Dave said with a smile as he picked up Travis' pile of clothes and threw them back in the luggage, which he picked up under his arm. He walked to the front door and pulled it open, dropping the suitcase on the hallway floor. "Why don't you sell your house in Poughkeepsie and go live with your rich lawyer in California."

"You can't just kick me out," Travis sneered. Dave didn't even spare him a glance as he walked past him towards his bedroom.

"I don't remember your name being on the lease," Dave said calmly. "Get out, Travis."

Travis looked down at his state of undress.

"I'm practically fucking naked, David."

"Well, that's rather convenient for you then. You're already dressed to see your boyfriend for your flight back to California," Dave said snidely, as he began to close his bedroom door. He paused, holding it open so Travis could only see his face and the complete and utter disgust he had for him. "I don't care what you do after I shut this door, change into your dirty fucking clothes for all I care, but when I come out of here in five minutes, you better be gone. And don't ever fucking contact me again. We're done."

Without waiting for so much as a reply, Dave snapped the door shut and leaned against it and inhaled deeply. The relief within him was already beginning to replace his anger. He wondered if he made the right decision to just shut the door on Travis and leave him to his devices in the other room. If Travis decided to destroy any of his belongings, they could be replaced. Though he knew Travis wouldn't do anything to jeopardize the lucrative business he built in the United States. Dave after all still had plenty of connections at The Times he could tell his story to, were he feeling particularly vengeful.

But now, as he listened to the sound of the front door slamming close, Dave just felt tired. Tired of the work he put into an almost year-long relationship and tired of the excuses he made to stay in it. Unfortunately, however, he did not have time to process his thoughts as the real world came back to him and he could hear the sound of trickling water in the bathroom.

"Shit," he cursed, as he realized that Travis never turned the water off. Running into the bathroom, Dave splashed through the water that was beginning to flood the bathroom floor and turned the handle to the off position, ceasing the flow of water. He plunged his hand down into the steaming water to unplug the drain.

"Goddammit." Dave waved his arm, which had been scalded, and grabbed the two towels hanging over the towel rod above the toilet. He began to sop up the water from the linoleum. Thankfully, it managed to not reach the carpeting of his bedroom.

Not having any other choice than to wait for the water to drain from the tub to have a place to put the soaking wet towels, Dave retreated back to his bedroom and collapsed on the bed. As he closed his eyes, he longed for dreams where he never had the misfortune of meeting Travis.

oOo

The last thing Kurt wanted to do right now was go to the gym, especially now that the vast majority of the population would be starting on their New Year's Resolutions. But exercising was how Kurt destressed. A part of him wanted to take up dance classes, his favorite form of exercise, as far too often he longed to go back to his Glee days of performing, but he'd rather not spend money on a commitment he couldn't keep. So the gym was his next best option. Obviously, he just needed to focus his energy on something other than Dave and Travis. Exerting his energy in a workout would help him do just that.

So once Kurt got out of the shower, he changed into his soft cotton capri work out pants and a fitted hoodie. He chose to forgo any hair products, as it would just get in his eyes if he'd sweat, and left it tousled and damp. He felt like a mess inside so it was only appropriate that his exterior matched. With a sigh, he pulled up his hoodie to complete his disheveled look and grabbed his keys in the living room, and left his apartment to go to the apartment gym.

The gym was on the same floor as the rooftop balcony, so once inside the elevator, he pushed the "18" button. He didn't get far before the elevator came to a stop. Kurt's throat constricted as the door opened, revealing none other than Travis, looking far more disheveled than him, which was impressive. Kurt noted that he had a suitcase in his hand and that his clothes were wrinkled and his hair stuck up in every direction. Kurt couldn't help but feel the pang of hope in his chest that Dave had finally kicked him to the curb. The last thing he needed right now was to make assumptions. Kurt had to hold back the urge to laugh at Travis right in his smug face. Instead, he snorted and crossed his arms. Travis glared at him with a look of the utmost contempt. Kurt didn't even hesitate before pushing the button for his desired floor, once more, as well as the "close door" button.

"I'm sorry, Travis," Kurt said sweetly, moving to stand in the very center of the elevator, blocking Travis if he even dared join him. "The elevator to hell and go fuck yourself is right next door." Kurt smiled as he dramatically turned his wrist to hold up his middle finger as the doors closed in front of him. As Travis' enraged, beet-red face disappeared from view, Kurt's gut told him that it would be the last time he saw the man and he felt vindicated that it happened to be at his lowest.

I think I speak for everyone when I say: "Good riddance, Travis."

Thank you, everyone, who has stuck with me and this story this far. Now is where the real fun begins.