A/N: Once again, thanks everybody for the amazing feedback. So many favorites and alerts, it's making me blush!
Marilyn: I have no problem replying to you through my chapters! I'm glad my efforts are appreciated! Yes there will be more about Kara and her daughter in later chapters (not this one though), I actually already have the idea how she and Dave met. And yes, Kurt will meet them, although I don't think there will be a misunderstanding regarding Dave and her… Hope I don't disappoint you with the Kurt/Dave meeting here! I did try to keep Kurt as in character as possible, I hate OOC! In my perspective, he hasn't changed much since high school; there is still some self-centeredness and drama in him. He will mature though… Thanks again for your detailed comments, they are very much appreciated! (BTW, if your computer (and yourself) is French-speaking, you can write in French, it's my mother tongue! Might be easier to read! :P )
Darkness is slowly invading every corner of the tall building, while the uncertain twilight is retreating. The large stairs that he's sitting on are still warm though. The stone under him offers a welcome contrast to the cold wind has lifted since sunset. He arrived early, even if he's not sure what kind of advantage it gives him.
Burying his hands in his jeans pockets, he scans constantly the surroundings. Few people to examine, nobody hangs around here past 5. Consequently, he notices Kurt the second his rigid silhouette turns the corner of the street. He stands up, brushes off the back of his pants and plunges his hands back in his pockets. Impossible to stare at him, it's with careful, rapid glances that he tries to judge his mood before he reaches him. While he had been calm, he now feels a ball forming at the pit of his stomach. Kurt is walking fast, determinedly. The ball moves up to his throat when he realizes that the younger man is keeping his shoulder bag tilted towards his chest, almost like a shield. Strange, when compared to his apparent resolution. "Unconsciously, old habits die hard, I guess." he bitterly thinks.
He licks his lips and clears his throat. He pathetically tries to smile as the distance between them shortens, but fails as soon as their eyes meet. They're only a feet apart, and Dave searches the depth of Kurt's bright blue orbs for a clue, but he's never been good at decoding looks. Sure, the guy looks serious but beyond that, he's not sure. Swallowing his hello, focusing his gaze on his shoes, all very good ideas suddenly. There are a few seconds of silence, only disturbed by the sound of the rustling of leaves and the flapping of the nearby flags in the wind.
A cold hand grips his chin and forces him to look up. No words are said, Kurt just inspects Dave, releasing his hold with a sigh after a while.
"Don't look so worried, Karofsky, I'm not here to get any sort of payback" he states flatly. He back away a little. "I'm not even expecting an apology, why after…"
"I'm sorry." Dave interrupts him, unable to contain himself. They stare at each other and, for a second Dave thinks it's about to turn ugly, but Kurt's expression slowly softens.
"Sorry for what, exactly?" he asks, crossing his arms.
"You know, pretty much anything I ever did back in high school. The insults, the slushies, the pushing. Messing with your head with that kiss. And most of all, everything that came after that." he replies. He can't help feeling dejected, sensing that his apology sounds nowhere close to what he would like it to. It's not his fault if he's better with writing his thoughts than voicing them. His eyes are pleading while he continues. "I know it doesn't change anything, but I really am sorry for what I put you through."
Kurt remains silent. Letting himself fall on the stairs, he motions to Dave to come next to him. Now it's Kurt's turn to fixate on the ground. Dave sits down and looks out to the horizon, unflinching when he hears the boy's tranquil voice.
"I believe you. Thank you for saying it, I guess. I wasn't hoping for that, but it's always a fantasy, hearing your tormentor apologize." Dave glances back at him. There's the ghost of a smile playing on Kurt's lips and he smiles back, relieved.
"Why did you wanted to see me then, if not for this?" he asks. Kurt starts fidgeting with his jacket's buttons upon hearing the direct question.
"I wasn't sure at first. When Blaine told me that you two had been in contact for years, it raised so many questions; I just had to find out the answers. Since he wouldn't tell me anything, I had to ask you."
"Yeah, he's so upstanding it's annoying!" Dave interjects. Kurt looks at him, genuinely surprised.
"You mean he never said anything to you either? He told me so yesterday, but I couldn't in all honesty believe him on that."
"You should give him more credit. Well, I knew you kept in touch with him, but no, he never mentioned what you talked to him about or what you were doing. To be fair, I had also asked him not to tell me."
"Why?"
"You reminded me of what I should have done and didn't. What I should have been." he admits plainly. He knows Kurt is staring at him, he can almost feel the eyes looking for a deeper meaning behind his words. He turns his body to face him directly. "I couldn't handle it back then." And, unexpectedly, Kurt nods and smiles at him.
Somehow, this confession doesn't embarrass him. Here he is, baring his soul to the guy who started it all for him. And yet, he's never felt less ashamed, or more comfortable. All the confusion and hardships of the past years is dissolving in his memory. All the progress he's made since the first realization (a Thursday in junior year, when Kurt had a smudge of chocolate mousse at the corner of his mouth and he had a flaring, scary urge to lick it off), it now seems to be building up to this moment, a final step toward acceptance.
A sudden draft makes them both shiver. "Moment's gone" Dave muses. Without thinking about it, his hand grabs Kurt's and he lifts him up as he stands. Although he lets it go immediately, as if he's burned himself.
Kurt scoffs. "Come on Karofsky, I won't misinterpret every gesture you make. I'm fairly sure you won't attack me tonight, you can make physical contact without panicking!"
A slight blush passes over the hockey player cheeks, fading fast. "I know, it's just… It kind of takes me back. It's like two worlds clashing, like maybe I'm still who I used to when you're around…" Dave stammers. He inhales sharply. "Want to walk for a bit? It's getting cold just sitting here."
"Sure." Kurt answers. They walk slowly, their feet adopting the same pace after a while. They don't say much, each mulling the road that lead to this. Side by side, old enemies tentatively becoming something different, something better.
Kurt's break the silence first. "Are we going somewhere in particular?" Dave is startled; he hadn't realized that the freshman was merely following him. "Oh, sorry!" he exclaims. "I forget you don't know your way around yet. We could go get a coffee, if you'd like. There's a Starbucks right…, well pretty much everywhere." he chuckles. Kurt nods and they resume their way.
There are more people out on the streets, pouring out of restaurants and into bars. It's hard to continue a conversation when you're constantly bumping into someone. At least, that's what he tells himself. Because, as he checks to make sure that Kurt doesn't get dragged by the flow of pedestrians, he can also see that the guy is getting more pensive by the minute. He stops at the coffee shop, holding the door and letting Kurt enter before him. They order (caramel macchiato for Kurt, cinnamon latte for him) and head for the far end of the store, where luckily a couple of deep armchairs are still free.
He impulsively drinks a large gulp of the scalding beverage, which results in him trying as best as he can to muzzle the coughing fit that ensues. He still manages to croak a question.
"What's going on?" He chokes a little, swallows it back quickly. "You're all silent. And you're sort of staring…"
"Did you date Blaine?" Kurt asks abruptly. "What? No!" replies Dave, his brow furrowed. "Where does that come from?"
"Well, it's a legitimate question. Put yourself in my place. I know you. But who I have in front of me is doesn't remotely resemble him. You seem so at ease with everything now, well, except with me but that's excusable. From what I've learned, Blaine is the only explanation for this… turnover." he says, gesturing emphatically.
"Sure, he's been a big part of my life but it's like you said. You knew me, and him. Can you really think he could have been interested in me like that? Or me in him?" the jock retaliates, incredulous.
Kurt rolls his eyes and mumbles: "In that case, I don't understand." Dave leans forward, putting his cup on the little table. "Look, I quit trying to categorize my friendships." he declares. "Yeah, sure, I have pretty much nothing in common with Blaine. But damn it, the guy was there when I needed him. I didn't have it as easy as you, you know, coming out."
Kurt's eyes widen, a flush covering his normally pale face. "WHAT? I had it easy? Are you kidding? Need I remind you that you used to make sure that I never got it easy?" His voice is getting louder, his eyes flaring.
Dave instinctively retreats and carefully tries to reformulate. "I didn't mean at school, I meant personally." he says calmly. "Look at you. Your clothes, your tastes, your entire personality fits into what most people think a gay should be. And you had parents who supported you. Your dad, Finn and his mom. And you knew that once you'd get out of Ohio, there would be a huge community of guys just like you." He can see Kurt tense up but he continues nonetheless. "Me? I was a total jock, and I'll always be. I can't start liking musicals or fashion just because I prefer men! And as for my parents, let's just say that they know about me but won't admit it. So it took a while for me to find my place because of all that. I've spent years feeling like an outsider inside a minority. It was like I couldn't win, no matter who I was." His tone is even. His state contrasts with Kurt's, who's still red with indignation.
Kurt looks away, slightly ashamed. He tries to shrug it off. "Anyways, you have no right saying it was easier for me. I'll admit it was a different experience for you, but that does not justify you implying you had it worse." His eyes go back to the hockey player, and there's defiance in them. Just a few seconds of this, and suddenly Dave is really tired of the confrontation. He picks up his cup and absent-mindedly rubs the already-chipped rim. "Do you realize we're arguing about who had the shittiest coming out? Like it's a competition or something." he says. "It's pretty silly, don't you think?" he tentatively asks.
"I guess so." Kurt replies. He remains silent for a minute or so and lightly chuckles. "Yeah, it really is…" They both smile, and a current of reassurance passes between them. "Sometimes it's that easy." Dave marvels.
After that surprisingly simple defusing, the conversation falls into a casual pace. They talk about past friends. Dave is astonished to find out that Rachel and Finn actually got married right out of high school. Kurt maintains that it was because she refused to put out, but his goofy smile betrays his more romantic belief. There isn't much to say on his side, once he had graduated, high school friendships quickly fizzled out. He just lets Kurt lead the discussion. Not even on purpose, they avoid the darker subject matters, not because of fear, more to keep this easy-going mood flowing.
Hours pass, customers come and leave but they don't move. It's well past midnight when Dave stretches his legs and muffles a yawn. The long, emotionally-draining day is starting to wear him down. He wordlessly waves in direction of the door and Kurt nods, not missing a beat in his telling of his final competition with New Directions. Once on the sidewalk, after the vivid conclusion of Kurt's story (they'd won, albeit the other team accused them of sabotage since part of the decor fell on them during their number), there's a comfortable silence. They both hold their arms crossed tight, since the wind only got colder during their talk. Dave extends his hand though, his eyes twinkling.
"Friends now? And you call me Dave?" he questions.
"Fine, Dave." Kurt sarcastically replies. But he grasps the offered hand and shakes it sincerely.
"Good. Now how about I show you around New York sometimes this week? I mean, what Blaine won't think to introduce you to?" he asks.
"Sure, why not."
"Great. I'll text you my address, how about Thursday evening?"
"It works for me. … Well, see you then, Dave. Good night!"
One last smile is exchanged and they part ways. Walking briskly to fight the strong wind, Kurt is feeling curiously energized. Not so much by the exercise. It's more like an enlightenment of the mind. As if, even if none of his questions came up, he feels like they've all been answered. "Maybe that's what moving on feels like." he ponders, happy.