A/N: That awkward moment when this was supposed to be a filler chapter and turned into anything but, as well as most likely being the longest chapter in the story. Also kind of random but I managed to post this on the "day" it takes place. I'm just that good. Also, I would like to point out that it has been officially seven years since I started writing this bad boy and I deeply apologize that these boys aren't together yet. Now that I have taken care of a number of obstacles in my life, I hope to rectify this.

Chapter 17

Falling

oOo

Saturday, 19 January 2025

9:35 am

A week passed before Kurt felt one hundred percent better. A week off from work, plenty of rest and fluids, copious amounts of vitamin c and zinc tablets, and Dave's leftover soup did wonders to help him recover quickly.

Dave's presence certainly helped as well. Every day he checked on him, making sure he had plenty of tissues and cough medicine to last him until the next day when he checked on him once more.

A few times, Dave brought his laptop over with him, and he would type away, glancing at him every once in a while to make sure he was doing okay. Kurt would watch him work from where he lay on the couch while pretending to be watching TV. Instead, he watched Dave's intense concentration, his hands darting over the keyboard as his word document grew longer and longer. Kurt would hold back his giggles every time he scowled moodily at his own words. Sometimes he would stay like that for minutes, and Kurt had to hold back a joke about him "buffering." He never got too close to see the words written on the pages. The last thing he wanted to do was make Dave uncomfortable. He discovered he probably shouldn't pry. Every time he got up to go to the bathroom, Dave would close the laptop so it was only cracked open, which was how he knew Dave wasn't ready to share. Dave would, however, ask if he needed anything, and he would decline. But Dave would ignore him, and fetch him some more ginger ale anyway.

Regardless of what Dave was writing, he was glad, knowing how much it made Dave happy and that hopefully, soon, he would be able to publish his book.

Kurt hoped, however, that he could at least take a few hours out of Dave's day to do something other than writing. After all, he needed to make it up to Dave for helping him the week before. And he had just the thing. Which was why he stood outside the door to Dave's apartment. One hand was raised into a fist, ready to knock and the other clutched a black hooded sweater that was tucked under his elbow-the very same that Dave had lent to him and that Kurt forgot to give back.

Kurt rapped gently on the door in the off chance that Dave could still be sleeping and stood there patiently until he could hear heavy footfalls approaching the door. There was a silence for a moment-probably from Dave looking through the peephole, before he could hear the mechanical sound of the deadbolt sliding and the door handle turning.

Dave stood at the door, his eyes scrunched closed and mouth in a yawn. His hair was somehow disheveled despite its short length. He wore his glasses as he usually did when he seemed to have just woken up. His feet were bare and he wore a gray v-neck shirt that was crisp and clean like he had just thrown it on. Kurt looked down and had to stifle a giggle at the pajama pants he was wearing. On the red pants, numerous bears appeared to be growling with the words "DON'T WAKE THE BEAR".

"Morning," Kurt said pleasantly. He pressed his lips together with a smile. He raised his eyebrows. "Love the pajamas."

Dave, always the morning person, gave him a lopsided grin.

"Thanks. A Christmas gift from my cousin. She likes to think she's funny." Dave motioned with his head behind him. "Wanna come in. I just made some coffee."

"Sure," Kurt said as Dave held the door for him. For some strange reason, he half expected to see Travis in Dave's apartment, as if he had managed to hide in the storage closet in the foyer ready to jump out at him. There was no Travis, thankfully. In fact, it was hard to see anything at all. All of the blinds in Dave's apartment were shut so only a small amount of light peeked in. He really must have woken him up.

"Do you have any creamer?" Kurt asked. Turning to Dave who was shutting the door.

"Huh?" Dave hummed already forgetting his offer to Kurt. "Oh, uh… No, sorry. I drink mine black, remember."

"Oh yes, you heathen," Kurt laughed, remembering the time he ran into Dave at the coffee shop and Dave stole coffee from his overfilled cup so that he could add cream to it. "That's fine, we can grab some on the way if I need some."

"On the way?" Dave asked, already in the kitchen and pouring himself a cup as Kurt stood awkwardly in the living room. It was strange being in Dave's apartment. He had only been inside one other time and it was for his Christmas party. Everything looked the same, other than the fact it was void of other people and Christmas decor. And the fact that Travis was long gone.

"What do you mean?" Dave asked, interrupting his thoughts.

"Hmm? Oh! Sorry. Didn't I mention?" Kurt said, turning to him. "I thought we could do something fun today."

"Oh, so do I get a say in this?" Dave chuckled as he came around the corner of the kitchen, he blew the steam off a mug of coffee that had a bear on it as well.

"No," Kurt challenged with a cock of his head, blinking at Dave almost coquettishly as if it would help convince him. "Unless you have plans, that is."

"Well…" Dave went to the window and twisted the rod with one hand so that the blinds parted to let in streams of golden light. They both blinked their eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness. "Luckily for you, I was just planning to write today, but I think I could make some time for you."

Kurt felt his breath hitch momentarily at Dave's last statement, and then he continued, his voice higher than it's usual pitch.

"Then you should probably get dressed." Kurt pointed out as he turned to sit at the furthest end of Dave's couch, avoiding his eyes that he could feel on him. He picked some lint off of his form-fitting cable cardigan and then adjusted the built-in scarf that wrapped around his neck. He was uncomfortably warm.

"You mean this isn't appropriate?" Dave said teasingly, leaning against the side of the couch. It took Kurt a moment to realize what he was referring to.

"As much as I love those pants," Kurt said, glancing up and down at Dave who he had never seen so casual and relaxed, "I would suggest something much warmer. And some thick socks as well."

"You know…" Dave said, making his way to the doorway that was likely to his bedroom. "You'd think that would help me with guessing what you have planned, but I'm somehow more confused."

"Good, then I've yet to ruin the surprise."

Dave sighed in mock exasperation. "Okay fine. Don't tell me then." After he slipped into his bedroom, he shut the door Kurt called out to him.

"Whining isn't going to help you get anything out of me."

"That just means I haven't done it enough," he heard Dave shout from the opposite side. Kurt couldn't help but chuckle. He enjoyed their back and forths.

Kurt set the sweater on the couch as he crossed his legs and clasped a knee. He took in the apartment, which was difficult to do with so many people the last time he was here. Dave's apartment was well decorated and he wondered if Travis had anything to do with that. It was homey, yet modern, and a similar model to his, minus the extra room.

He turned his head to look out the window when a picture frame caught his eye, leaning over he took in the photo. He noticed Dave sporting a royal purple graduation cap and gown with silver honor's cords draped over his shoulders-the NYU colors. He looked boyishly handsome in the photo, with his white collared shirt and tie peeking out from under the gown. And he grinned from ear to ear so much that his eyes were nearly squinting shut in happiness, next to him was a young woman, who looked extraordinarily like him- except with orangish, hair which, to his hair care knowledge, was the sign of an at-home bleach job for those with darker hair. Whoever this woman was, Kurt hoped she had since changed her travesty of a haircolor. She wore a similar expression of happiness, and her arms clutched Dave around his middle. She was incredibly petite and her head barely reached Dave's shoulder. He had to lean down so that he fit the composition of the photo better.

Kurt frowned, staring at the woman in the photo. She looked so familiar…

At the sound of a door opening, Kurt turned his head to see Dave standing in the doorway to the bedroom. Kurt saw that he didn't bother with putting his contacts in. He wore a gray black and white, wide-striped hooded sweater. Along with a pair of dark blue jeans.

"Will this suffice?" Dave asked, holding his hands out. Kurt stared. He looked… More than acceptable. However, Kurt doubted he would be warm enough.

"You should probably wear another sweater," Kurt stood up, Dave's jacket in hand. "Speaking of which, I brought your's back. You forgot it at my place."

Dave took the sweater from Kurt's hands.

"How's this?" Dave asked, slipping it on.

"Better," Kurt said approvingly.

"What about you, Fancy?" Dave asked as he zipped his jacket. He glanced up and down at Kurt's overly complicated sweater. "You gonna be warm enough?"

Kurt ignored his heart that beat excessively from the nickname as well as the concern in Dave's voice.

"I'm fine," Kurt said, raising the hem of his sweater to show a much simpler one underneath. "Layers."

"Alright," Dave said, seemingly satisfied. He continued, "And just so you know, I examined all of the socks in my drawer to find the ones with the greatest cushion."

"Did you now?" Kurt asked dubiously as he crossed his arms, trying to hide his smile. "I don't know I might have to inspect them…"

Dave sighed dramatically before propping one of his legs up on the coffee table next to them. Kurt took a step back while giggling at Dave's pose. Dave rolled up his pant leg far enough to reveal the sock and, with the other hand, gave a good Vanna White impression as he flourished his hand under the design. It featured a carton of Chinese takeout containing what appeared to be chow mein and chopsticks. Under the design, the sock simply said, "SEND NOODS."

"Oh my god," Kurt said, laughing as he hid his face in one hand. He pushed Dave's knee with the other upon facing the realization that David Karofsky was a complete and utter dork. At least the socks appeared to be thick like Dave promised.

"Hey, ow, that's my bad knee, Hummel," Dave laughed as he stumbled back, his pant leg falling back down.

"Come on," Kurt said, his face still hurting from the laughter. "If we don't hurry there might be a crowd."

"Crowd? Where exactly are we going?" Dave asked, following Kurt's lead. He picked up his keys off the kitchen table along the way.

"You'll see."

oOo

"So, I doubt this is where you were planning on taking me." Dave shoved his hands into his pockets, shielding them from the cold. He should have brought his gloves.

"Actually, this was exactly what I planned all along," Kurt said moving up another space in the line at the outside coffee kiosk. "See what happened? You took too long and now there is a line."

There was only one person in front of them so Dave rolled his eyes. He lightly nudged Kurt's arm with his elbow.

"Come on, Kurt, just tell me," Dave said groaning, his head rolling back on his shoulders sensing Kurt's joke. "If I die it's gonna be from anticipation. And it will be your fault."

"You haven't figured it out yet?" Kurt said as they stepped forward to the front of the line after the woman in front of them received her order. "One mocha, please."

"4.75," the teller said and Kurt pulled out his wallet, slipped out his credit card, and entered it into the slot. Once he received his mocha with a "thanks" they moved to the tables surrounding the kiosk. Dave followed Kurt's lead as they sat down in the cold metal chairs for a rest.

They walked for twenty minutes, all the way down 65th Street from their apartment, and now stood in south Central Park. Whatever they were doing, he hoped they could take a cab back at least. It was nice to get out of his apartment and stretch his legs, though, especially now that he was making headway on his book. The two of them had talked a great deal during their walk. Mostly about their hobbies and interests. He and Kurt, as he already discovered from their first initial impromptu movie night, enjoyed many of the same movies. They even listened to a lot of the same music, however, Dave was adamant in getting Kurt to listen to more indie-folk, which was something he enjoyed since college. Kurt, on the other hand, talked exuberantly about musicals. Dave had listened intently and in amusement as Kurt gushed about his favorite performances all the while gesturing madly. He did enjoy how fired up Kurt got when he was talking about the subjects he was so passionate about.

"So, still no idea?" Kurt asked, interrupting Dave's reverie. He took a sip of his coffee. He raised his eyebrows innocently over the lid of the cup.

"Why do I have a feeling it's very obvious?"

Kurt snickered, "Because it is." He nodded in the direction behind Dave and he glanced behind him. They were at Wollman Rink and… Oh…

"Ice skating?" Dave asked curiously, turning back to Kurt. Kurt's idea of thanking him was with ice skating?

"Surprise." Kurt beamed.

"Should have guessed," Dave laughed, feeling rather stupid.

"But you didn't," Kurt pointed out haughtily, as he primly downed more of his coffee. Dave turned to look at the cordoned off rink. He passed it many times but never went skating there himself. It was full of people despite him and Kurt arriving early. But it was a weekend after all.

"Do you know how long it's been since I've gone ice skating?" he asked rather dreamily. It seemed a lifetime ago.

Kurt frowned, surprised Dave even had to ask that question. Before Kurt could answer Dave replied.

"Sophomore year of college."

"Wait really?" Kurt practically blanched.

"Unfortunately, yes," Dave said, unsure of why he felt so shy about this revelation.

"But… You played hockey in high school." Kurt waved his hand holding his cup of coffee. Dave hoped he didn't spill it. "I thought you would go skating all the time. At least during the winter.

Dave grimaced and then sighed.

"I, um… I wasn't kidding about my knee injury before. At the apartment when you smacked my leg." Kurt looked frightened for a moment like he could have done Dave serious harm with such a light punch, but Dave waved him off.

"I was just joking about it at the time, Kurt. Don't worry." Kurt appeared relieved. "It doesn't cause me any issues today… I mean, it can get pretty sore if I push myself too hard when I go on my jogs. But… I still erred on the side of caution since it happened." Dave rubbed his knee through his jeans as if remembering what had happened or feeling the phantom pain.

"Can I ask what happened?" Kurt inquired softly as if sensing that this was a topic Dave didn't care to discuss. Dave sighed but relented despite how much he hated reliving the painful experience. Not from the physical pain he felt, but from the depression that followed.

Eventually, he nodded and Kurt set his coffee down on the metallic surface of the table and leaned forward in his seat, ready to listen intently.

"I joined the hockey team my senior year of high school," he started, but that was all it took for Kurt to interrupt him.

"Hockey? I thought you switched to football?" Dave blinked, and the corners of his mouth twitched as Kurt took note of his own outburst.

"Oh, you were planning on explaining that… Sorry, continue."

Dave chuckled but continued.

"I never thought about playing hockey again, but then I transferred here to finish my senior year after I…" Dave halted, feeling a bout of panic at the thought of continuing that statement. The thought created what felt like an invisible noose tightening around his neck. He shuddered. He wasn't ready to acknowledge that experience with Kurt. It was worse than the one he was already describing to him.

"...after I left Lima." He recovered quickly, upon seeing the concern in Kurt's eyes. The dread lessened slightly in the pit of his stomach.

"I wanted to play football again, but the season had already started once I moved here. However, the hockey season was still recruiting. So I tried out and managed to get in." Dave paused.

"During the third game, I got hit a little too hard. I mean it's hockey, you expect that, but it's not like football, with a bunch of big dudes in shoulder pads smacking into each other. You're on the ice and you think you can just fall and jump back up. But then one game I fell and was smashed into the wall. Slid right into it legs first and my left leg was crushed between the wall, me, and three other guys." Dave realized Kurt's hand had covered his mouth in shock. He wondered what Kurt's reaction would have been if he had let slip why he came to New York in the first place. He rid himself of that thought quickly.

"Like I said though, during the game I thought I could shake it off, but I couldn't even get up let alone put weight on it. I laid on the fucking ice until the medics could get to me. Didn't realize until they got me into the ambulance and out of my gear that my kneecap was on the outside of my leg." He sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his knee as if remembering it.

"I tore my MPFL. It could have been a lot worse. Thankfully I didn't need surgery, but I had to go to physical therapy. Honestly, I was hoping to get into college on a hockey scholarship, especially since I blew getting one for football. But I had good grades, so I didn't have to worry about that, in the end."

Dave's eyes opened when he felt something warm enclose on his arm. He looked down to see it was Kurt's hand.

"I had no idea, Dave. I'm so sorry."

Dave sucked in a breath as Kurt pulled him back to the present. Looking down at the hand on his arm, he smiled softly and laid his on top of it. He wondered at what point Kurt took his gloves off. It must have been recent because he could feel the warmth seeping through the fabric of his sweater.

"It's fine," Dave said quietly, as he laid his hand on top of Kurt's. He looked at Kurt as he smiled softly and he realized far too long after that he had been rubbing the silken skin on the back of Kurt's hand with the pad of his thumb. Swallowing thickly, he pulled his hand away and Kurt followed. He already missed the heat and weight on his arm.

"At any rate, I don't regret anything," he began again, sitting back in his chair.

He watched as Kurt toyed at the label on his cup, tearing little pieces off of it. A nervous habit, Dave noticed.

"But I was really fucking pissed though. And not just about hockey… Other things… So the school suggested I go to counseling, which I finally did thanks to my aunt and uncle's advice. My therapist recommended keeping a diary to vent and sort out my emotions. I wouldn't have discovered how much I love writing if it wasn't for that."

"That's good, David. And I'm sorry for bringing you here. And for bringing up these memories for you. We can go do something else. Maybe we can…"

"No," Dave said suddenly as Kurt was half out of his chair. He sat back down with a thump.

"I… I think I want to try," Dave said, suddenly filled with nervous excitement and also appreciation towards Kurt. Kurt, thoughtful as ever, invited him to do something he thought they would both enjoy. As scared as he was, he didn't want to disappoint Kurt after all the trouble he went through. But there was always the lingering fear that he could hurt himself again. He knew it was irrational and that he could injure himself several ways just during his day to day activities, but it had been so long since he had been out on the ice.

"I just need to be careful but… Yeah," he said reassuringly as he stood up. "I wanna do it."

Kurt looked hesitant but stood up as well.

"Okay, but if you change your mind… We can stop."

"Yeah, it'll be fine. I mean, I used to skate every week in high school. I'm sure it will be like riding a bike. A very slippery bike." Kurt laughed. "And I'll stay by the wall so I can catch myself if I need to."

"You always hold on to me too," Kurt offered.

"I'll keep that in mind," Dave said smiling appreciatively at Kurt as they made their way to the rink and to the teller to buy their tickets and acquire their skates. Dave, wallet already in hand to buy their tickets once they got to the front of the line, was stopped by Kurt who grabbed his wrist.

"Don't you dare," Kurt said sternly as Dave gaped at him. "After all you did for me last week do you think that I was going to let you pay for yourself." Dave had half a mind to tell him that he was planning to pay for both of them, but he figured Kurt would be even more annoyed at that notion.

"Oh-kay…" Dave said, returning his wallet to his pocket, but not before Kurt did a double-take and caught his wrist again, though a little gentler this time.

"You're using my Christmas present?" It took Dave too long to realize what Kurt was referring to and he stared at him in befuddlement.

"Christmas…? Oh!" Dave looked down at the wallet Kurt gave him at the Christmas party. After all that had happened from the falling out with Kurt at New Year's to breaking up with Travis… He had completely forgotten to thank Kurt.

He opened the present the day he dropped off Travis at the airport. Inside the small box was a brown leather wallet. He had to wonder if Kurt knew the state of his current wallet, about ready to fall apart, and decided to get him the new one. The wallet seemed simple at first, but when he opened it he realized that Kurt had taken the time to customize it as well. On the inside was a quote embossed on the leather. He wasn't sure if Kurt did it himself or if he had to take it somewhere to have it imprinted, but either way, he loved the thought behind it. He traced the words on the wallet and then looked up at Kurt.

"I'm so sorry," Dave said, his hand going to Kurt's shoulder. "I completely forgot to thank you for it."

Kurt smiled and shrugged and said, "I suppose I can forgive you." Dave let his hand fall.

Dave looked down at the words on the wallet that, upon reading them, had inspired him to start writing. He spent enough time brainstorming and even more procrastinating, and he decided it was time. A little over a month ago when they met, Dave had told Kurt that he wasn't vain enough to write about himself but… He had to wonder, how many little boys and teens were out there that struggled as he did… How much better off he would have been if he had any sort of guidance in his small-minded town or someone they could relate to.

And then he read the words Kurt chose to have embossed on the leather, and that was all that took to convince him to write his own story:

WRITE WHAT WILL STOP YOUR BREATH IF YOU DON'T WRITE

"I'm just glad you liked it." If he didn't know any better, it looked like Kurt was blushing.

"I loved it," Dave emphasized. "Thank you." Dave tucked the now cherished wallet back in his pocket. "I feel bad I didn't get you anything."

"But you did," Kurt said simply. They were now at the front of the line, and Kurt paused to tell the worker that he would be paying for two adults. Once they received their wristbands they went to the area that contained the skates.

"Did I?" Dave asked, picking up where they left off in their conversation.

"Sure… I got a pretty good friend." Dave had heard Kurt refer to him as such a handful of times, but it always took him by surprise, as if it was ludicrous for Kurt to even think of him as such. He stared at Kurt as he picked out a pair of ice skates his size. Once Kurt found some suitable for himself, he looked at Dave who hadn't moved from his spot.

"Don't give me that self-deprecating look. You know it's true."

Dave shook his head, touched. A warmth spread inside him like the coffee he drank that morning.

"I was gonna ask… A pretty good friend? Not… Spectacular? Outstanding? Magnificent?" Kurt glared at him in the least non-menacing way as he laced up his skates.

"Maybe preeminent. Or sublime?" Dave continued as he sat next to Kurt on the bench so that they were hip to hip.

"Fine. All of the above. Mr. Thesaurus," Kurt added with an amused huff.

Dave shook his head as he busied himself with lacing up his skates. He had to blink his eyes rapidly but attributed the stinging to the cold.

Once they were ready, they tiptoed on the blades a short distance to the entrance of the rink. Dave looked down at the glistening ice just a few inches in front of him. He knew Kurt was watching and he didn't understand why taking one step felt like it would be so momentous.

With a deep breath, Dave stepped onto the ice. He was surprised by how steady he was on his feet. He didn't fall and the moment felt so anticlimactic that he had to laugh. He turned to look at Kurt as he made his way onto the ice after him. Unlike him, Kurt was slightly wobblier, and he had to hold onto the wall as he stepped onto the slick surface. Dave had his hand outstretched in case Kurt needed to grab him. It was funny how their assigned duties seemed to have switched.

"You okay?" Dave asked, more worried about the possibility of Kurt getting injured than himself.

"Other than feeling as graceful as a newborn baby dear, I'm super." Kurt kept one arm on the wall as they very slowly drifted side by side.

The rhythm of his feet skimming the surface of the ice came so naturally to Dave. The ice was smooth as so few people had skated on it that morning. Honestly, Dave couldn't imagine why he thought he could never do this again. His fear melted away like that year's snow. He felt reinvigorated. Kurt was quiet next to him, and he figured it was due to the man concentrating on not falling. He wondered how long it had been since Kurt had gone ice skating.

"You know I started writing," Dave blurted out suddenly, unsure of why he felt he should tell Kurt that.

Kurt looked at him, more surprised by the outburst than the information.

"I noticed. You were writing in my apartment when I was sick. You certainly were accomplishing a lot."

"Yeah, well, I took your advice."

"My advice?" Kurt intoned. They rounded the corner of the rink and Dave slowed down on Kurt's behalf. Dave had his hands in his pockets. It was indeed like riding a bike for him.

"Write what will stop your breath if you don't write," he quoted. "I decided to do that."

Kurt stopped skating and Dave swiveled around on the ice as he turned to face Kurt. Kurt gave him a look that implied "okay, show off."

"So you can say you started writing your book because of me," Kurt asked coyly. Kurt didn't seem to know how to "brake" so he slowly inched forward towards Dave.

Dave gave a half shrug, a smile playing on his lips. Kurt was close enough that he could smell the chocolatey coffee on his warm breath. He couldn't help but stare at the lock of hair that had come loose from Kurt's perfectly styled coif and fell onto his forehead. Dave fought the urge to brush it away as he remembered how soft Kurt's hair was when he smoothed it down when he was sick.

"Maybe," Dave said softly. He continued to stare at Kurt and the teasing look he was giving him. "I'll be sure to put you in the dedications."

"Well, I'm glad I could be of some assistance."

"You were more than that," Dave said plainly, breaking the playful banter. "You believed in me when no one else did. Thank you, Kurt." Kurt gaped slightly, and Dave watched him swallow thickly. His attention was diverted to the scarf built into the neck of Kurt's sweater. He noticed one of the attachments had come undone.

Kurt looked touched even though it was Dave who was being vulnerable. Kurt could only nod, looking down at the ice. He patted the half wall with his hand like it would help him form the words better.

"I'm really, really proud of you, David, and… How far you've come." Kurt let out a shuddering breath as if half expecting Dave to shun his admission. "I don't think I've told you that. I should have."

Kurt was right. He never said those words to him, and he almost wished he hadn't. Dave didn't know what to do with the influx of emotions building in his chest. Dave licked his lips as he busied himself as he raised his hands to fix the clasp at Kurt's shoulder. He realized after he began to fix it how tender an act it was and felt like a thank you in and of itself. They stood there, Kurt a little more precariously than him, with hardly any distance between each other as the rest of the attendants at the rink enjoyed themselves, completely unaware of the conversation being had. It felt different than when Kurt fell asleep on him and he wanted to make him feel better, or Kurt giving him the wallet for Christmas. It was completely and utterly unnecessary if not trivial, which was all the more reason why Dave took his time as he fixed the clasp.

"Baby steps, right?" he said, finally, as he inspected his work as he straightened Kurt's collar. He looked into Kurt's expressive eyes. His eyelashes were so dark against his porcelain skin as they fluttered, one could think he was wearing eyeliner. Dave wondered how he could be so winded when they hadn't skated more than 100 feet.

"Baby steps." Kurt breathed in agreement, registering the words. Dave wondered if that night at Scandals came back to Kurt as easily as it did for him. He recalled how badly he wanted to dance with him that night and felt an all to familiar ache in his chest.

Kurt opened his mouth to say something only to be interrupted by the squeal of four teenage girls barreling past them. Kurt gasped and jumped from the sudden barrage that whooshed past him. The motion, however, made Kurt unsteady on his feet and Dave could see him going down. But he was faster with his sportsmanlike reflexes and managed to catch Kurt, who was now laughing hysterically his whole body shaking. Dave held onto Kurt under his arms after hoisting him up with a grunt.

"Jesus, Kurt," Dave said, joining in on the hysterics with his own belly-laugh. Rather than move away, Kurt rested his head on his chest, still giggling from his almost fall.

"And here we were worried about you breaking something," Kurt said, his arms clasped onto Dave's. As he pulled away, Dave stared at his mirthful face-his pink cheeks and pinker lips, his eyes and nose scrunched up in a way that Dave could only describe as adorable. The hands clasping his forearms felt hot enough to burn.

Dave pulled away rather regretfully, once he determined Kurt wasn't likely to fall over.

"Come on," Kurt said, pulling on his arm so that he could tuck his hand underneath, not unlike the day they left the park after their snowball fight. Only this time, Kurt remembered his gloves and didn't need him to keep his hands warm. Dave couldn't complain, however.

"You're gonna have to keep me upright until I decide I'd rather give up on this than risk life and limb."

Dave's laughed, but was overcome once more by the sense of unease. The same feeling he experienced when he was tending over Kurt while he was sick. Whatever it was, he wasn't going to let it get in the way of their friendship. Dave knew he had very few of them.

"Don't worry," he assured Kurt. "I won't let you fall."

He stared at Kurt and his exuberant smile and the beauty that emanated from the man from the inside out, and he suddenly understood the trepidation he felt. He let his words wash over him and sink in and he had to wonder whether he meant those words for Kurt or himself.