A/N: Here we go, the final chapter. Sorry if it took me forever to finish it! I'm already thinking about a sequel (probably just a one-shot) that would take place a few years in the future but it needs some work. There's also another one-shot idea set before Never Been Kissed that's rolling around in my head, I'll see if I can get it out! As always, comments, critiques, etc. are most welcome!
No Blaine this time, but some Finn/Rachel/Burt/Carole to compensate! Kind of more Kurt-focused too…
Marilyn: Thanks for your detailed review! I agree with you, Blaine as a mutual friend would be nice to see on the show. Although theyseem to be on the verge of dropping the whole Karofsky/Kurt relationship and leave it at that. This sucks IMO because I can see so much potential there! I'm glad you still like the way I depict both Dave and Kurt, I'm having fun with them! Sorry for making it a short story but I hope you'll like this ending!
Fulminating in a low tone, Kurt fumbles to lock his dorm room, his gloved hands clumsy with the key. He violently turns it and pulls the door shut at the same time. He lets out a "Finally" as he takes a step back but bumps into a tall person behind him. He turns on his heels, pulling down his scarf to free his mouth, all prepared to apologize.
"Finn? What are you doing here?" he exclaims in surprise. He readjusts the strap of his backpack that's about to slip from his shoulder.
"I wanted to surprise you." he replies with his trademark lopsided smile. "I'm bringing you home for the weekend!"
"I was already going, you doofus!" he says. He stares at him, taking in the notion that Finn made quite the detour to be here. "Not the most practical idea, you extending your trip like that just to get me…"
"Come on, we're in college! This is the time for crazy road trips, you know, with adventures and weird people!" Finn explains, obviously thrilled at the prospect.
Kurt puts on his best I'm-more-mature-than-you face on before replying. "Dude, you're married. And we're going back to our parent's place, through the most boring states of the country. It limits the chances of eventful moments to, let me check, almost nil." he states. He can feel the corner of his mouth twitch. Damn! Never been good at this!
Finn's smile only broadens. "You just said Dude. See, crazy stuff happening already!" he replies, satisfied. Kurt tries to hide the warm, fuzzy feeling that starting to spread in him. He reluctantly gives in and grins to his step-brother. "Okay, fine! I'll admit it; it'll be nice not to travel alone…"
The lanky boy doesn't say anything, simply lightly patting Kurt on the back to signal him to get a move on things. Kurt grabs the handle of his suitcase and almost runs to catch up with Finn, who's turning the corner after only a few strides down the hallway.
"Wait!" he pants. "What about my ticket?"
Finn continues to walk, barely looking over his shoulder before answering. "Oh, it's fine, there never was one! I just said that Burt had bought one for you so you wouldn't have a clue we were coming." he says proudly.
"We?" Kurt asks. "Sure, Rachel's waiting in the car." his step-brother answers.
"Oh. Great!" he replies joyously and he is genuinely happy to learn that. Ordinarily, the perspective of a 10 hours-drive with his former adversary would have been enough to induce a panic attack. But ever since she became an official part of the Hummel-Hudson household, Rachel Berry has been much more tolerable. "Tamed" he can't help thinking as he maneuvers his luggage out of the building and down the snowy stairs. If Kurt was versed in psychology, he'd say his sister-in-law's competitiveness and abrasive behavior were rooted in her fear of never being good enough for someone. Since he's not into that, he simply thinks she' grown up, to everyone's delight. However, she still speaks way too fast and way too much, in general and about herself in particular. That will never change, he's afraid, but today it's a good thing. No matter how close he is to Finn now, they still don't have that much in common to discuss and a long drive filled with silences would have invited some unpleasant subjects to roam around in his head.
He stops next to Finn's old Explorer (a graduating gift from Carol, finally giving her an excuse to get a new car) and gives a timid sign in response to Rachel's excited waving. It takes a minute to stuff his bags on the back seat and for him to climb in the car. No need to check for space in the trunk, knowing for certain it's full. "For someone who dresses as badly as she does, she sure brings a lot of options!" he marvels. Finn takes his place behind the wheel and soon enough, they're headed home.
Once on the freeway, Rachel starts chattering like there's no tomorrow, describing in great details her classes and teachers, how amazing the choir at Penn State is and all the projects she has for her team, etc. Finn sends Kurt eloquent glances through the rearview mirror. He knows there will be an opportunity (eventually) for them to catch up, once his wife's rush will have subsided. Luckily, there are pauses in Rachel's speech, whenever an inspiring song starts playing in fact. They sing all along then, their voice still mingling perfectly, like before. Kurt can't repress the jolt he feels in his spine as he hits the higher notes in unison with the brunette. He turns his head and focuses on the passing cars because his eyes prickle. From nostalgia, or joy, he's unsure.
Some time passes and there is significantly less action in the car. Rachel, tired out after 3 hours of carrying the conversation, has fallen asleep, her head rocking back and forth on the cold window on her side. Seizing the opportunity, Kurt encourages Finn to take over and to get up to date on their life. He's pleased to learn Finn is doing well so far, managing to get a B in almost every class, even an A in psychology. Kurt used to have trouble picturing him as a social worker when his stepbrother confided in him about his ambition. Looking at him today, confident and motivated, it's hard to remember the naïve and hesitant teen that was so easy to boss around. This field fits him like a glove now. Mr. Schuester's lessons have paid off apparently…
Kurt fills his brother in on the details of his adaptation to the big city, careful to leave Dave out of it. If Finn senses he's hiding something, he doesn't let it show. Unfortunately, all this doesn't take much time. After 15 minutes or so, they are done. Finn then puts on a CD, some uninteresting rap he enjoys for some mysterious reason. Feeling that he's losing the battle against silence, Kurt searches frantically for a new topic to discuss but comes up empty. He balls up his fists and closes his eyes. "Fine, I relinquish" he thinks, melodramatic.
It's part sweet torture, part agony, that game he's been playing for now 2 months. Reliving those 22 seconds, during which he felt more alive than he ever thought possible. It makes him tingle all over and tiny sparks appear under his eyelids. But it also creates a hole in his chest, a pit that seems to suck every breath out of him. No, don't. Hours of conversation with Dave and the only words remaining are that hurried negation when he rejected him, like a slap in the face.
An irritated groan almost slips out, covered at the last second by a light cough. Finns turns his head slightly to look at him and Kurt is really pleased that the car is dark enough to cover his troubled face.
"Errr, Finn, any plans for the night or we're just pulling an all-nighter and driving straight to Lima?"he says rapidly, gazing at the almost undistinguishable scenery outside the car.
"You bet I provided, I made reservations at a hotel that's mid-way; we should be there in like, 45 minutes?" Kurt acknowledges, his eyes still fixed on the trees that flash behind the window. Deep breaths, the constant rhythm of the music, the lulling movement of the car, they all contribute to his merciful descent into sleep. Next things he knows, there's an icy breeze on his face and a persistent hand pushing his shoulder. When he opens his eyes, Finn is looking down on him and teasing him about how he hasn't been any help in keeping him awake for the last part of the trip. After laboriously getting out of the car and picking up his overnight bag, he stumbles behind his step-brother and a zombie-like, yawning Rachel.
An uneventful night in a cramped motel later (next road trip, Kurt decides, he'll take care of the sleeping arrangements!), it's back on the road for another 5 hours. Finn promptly accepts Kurt's offer to drive the rest of the trip. A win-win situation. Finn gets to sleep more, an activity he never ceased to enjoy, while his brother, being a paranoid driver, can keep his mind focused on external factors, rather than musing on Dave.
The afternoon is well underway when they park in front of the Hummel-Hudson residence. While they unload the car, Kurt sees a movement in the drapes of the living room. "Carole is most likely watching and waiting for us…" he thinks. Sure enough, a few seconds later the door bursts open and the mother marches quickly in their direction, arms already open. "My sweethearts, finally home!" she squeals, effectively making them all blush from embarrassment. It can't be helped; she flings her arms around the group and pulls them as close to her as possible.
"We missed you all so much!" she says, her voice partly muffled by Rachel's hair. She pulls back, holding each boy at arm's length, her daughter-in-law in the middle. She lets out a little laugh and releases both guys to quickly brush her hand over her wet eyes. "I'm sorry, I promised myself I wouldn't become emotional but it's… It's just so good to have you here!" Seeing her lean forward for another embrace, Rachel and Kurt, by a mutual and silent agreement, duck under Carole arms. They walk backwards toward the house, merely offering a shrug to the young man who's left alone to deal with his overjoyed mother, awkwardly patting her back.
They turn around in unison once they reach the porch and catch sight of Kurt's dad. Burt is leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, an amused smile playing on his lips, complementing the grinning faces of Rachel and his son. He sidesteps to grant access to Rachel, simply cupping her cheek in an affectionate manner as she passes near him. Kurt tries to slide inside as well, but is cut short by his father strong arms wrapping around him. Wordless, both Hummel men stay in the threshold, hugging tightly. Kurt hears his father clear his throat and sniffle a bit. It makes him smile tenderly against the denim of his father's shirt. "I missed you too, Dad." he whispers. He inhales deeply the familiar scent as if to stock up with it, while he can. "Home… feels pretty good right now." he marvels.
Thanksgiving has changed since his school days, Kurt thinks. While he has fond memories of the old times, when it was a quiet dinner, just his dad and him, he has to admit this is much more entertaining. The heavy oak table is extended to its limit, and it's not too much. Burt and Carole are at each end, Finn and Rachel are facing each other, and Rachel's fathers are as well. In fact, the only free spot is the one in front of Kurt. Usually it's occupied by Blaine. He's become a regular guest since the death of his parents 3 years ago, since Carole and Burt just couldn't sustain the thought of their son's close friend being alone during the holidays. This year though, Ben has invited him first. Kurt's family had wondered why the tradition couldn't be perpetuated. Frankly, Kurt didn't want to interfere and bring his friend down, since he was so giddy at the prospect of being introduced to his boyfriend's family…
The dinner starts with 2 minutes of silence. All about compromise, it's much easier to let everyone deal with their own belief separately than trying to mesh it all into an awkward sort of prayer that would probably satisfy no one. While they all have their head bowed down, Kurt examines the many dishes laid out in front of him, trying to ignore the creeping loneliness that starts to fill him. He mentally curses his self-centeredness, how can he feel alone, here, surrounded by everyone that loves him? Because a stocky boy is missing, someone who could be sitting in front of him and contemplate him the way Finn looks at Rachel when he thinks no one sees them? "Maybe." he concedes.
A vibration in his pants startles him. His hand flies to his pocket, grabbing his phone to muzzle the buzzing. He pulls the cell out and rests it on his lap, glancing at the text. I'm in town, I need to see you. Please don't ignore this... Dave. He feels the rush of what seems like his entire blood volume heading for his cheeks. "I need to see you." Closing his eyes, he tries to imagine the tone he should give these words. The well-known combat between reason, desire and reality begins in his head but he quickly puts a halt to it. He feels watched. One look under his eyelashes and, of course, Rachel is staring questioningly at him. Damn her and her perfect hearing! She mouths who was that?, he answers by simply turning the cell in her direction under the table. She would have found out anyway, she's still Rachel… She reads the message discreetly. "Dave?" she whispers, looking back at him. "Karofsky." he replies in the same manner. Her brow furrows while she searches her memory for that name. Confusion only heightens in her expression when she recognizes it. She gasps and Kurt quickly motions over his throat, making her understand that they'll discuss it later. A nod and she returns to her supposed religious meditation. However, her hands wringing the napkin and the rhythmic biting she inflicts to her lower lip are definite signs that staying silent costs her more than she lets on.
He is thankful for the animated discussion and his appetite during the dinner, he decides. OK, maybe a few other things were good this year but right now, these are most important. Both made time fly and wouldn't you know, two hours have passed and he hasn't thought about Dave. At least not too much.
The downside of the dinner being over takes the form of Rachel, with a grip like a vice, hauling him down the hallway the minute they get up from the table. She drags him to the garage, the last place anyone would look for either one of them. She points Kurt to the pile of tires in the corner, while she jumps to sit on the workstation, dusting it briefly before. She barely takes the time to brush the dust from her hands before turning her attention to her brother-in-law.
"Please, please tell me he's not back to his cruel, twisted mind games! I was so glad when he graduated and we could finally, you know, breathe at school! And yet it was nothing compared to what he used to do to you…" Her voice is already shrill; her hands are already flailing around… Kurt knows he must stop her now or he will have a much larger fire to put out soon.
He has to raise his voice to make the boisterous brunette hear him. It's hard, and takes more time than he thought. In the end, it nearly takes an hour to cover the details of his history with David, both past and present, because frequent exclamations of surprise and shock interrupt him. A part of him is still amazed that he's able to get it all off his chest and to Rachel nonetheless.
"So I haven't heard from him since. Blaine advised me to go to him but I couldn't. There's a limit to the humiliation I'll put myself through. Then I get this text, out of the blue. I don't know what to think. No, scratch that, I don't want to think!" He knows he looks ridiculous, way too emotional, way too flushed… But Rachel is looking at him, her face expressionless. "She's too calm…" Kurt thinks. She takes it all surprisingly well. A twitch of the mouth, that's it. "Okay, you're not more, I don't know, flabbergasted? Karofsky being gay, his change of personality, anything?" he asks her.
"You'll never believe me, but I sorta knew." She replies amusedly. "Well, not know know, let's just say I had a vague idea he might have been into you back then. The looks he would give you sometimes, you had to wonder. Although I used to think that it was just my overactive imagination." She laughs at Kurt's astonished face. "Don't be so surprised! Most people believe themselves far subtler than they really are."
She slides down to the floor and goes to stand next to Kurt's spot. "Just like you." she confides. You don't hide it very well; it's plain to see when you talk about him." She runs her hand gently through the boy's hair, careful not to disturb his hairdo beyond repair.
He gets up with a sigh, and heads for the place she was seconds ago, starting to fiddle with the tools laying there. "And…You don't think it's sick or something?" he asks with a shiver in his voice.
She walks back to him, stopping right behind him. "Look, I might be the only one who can understand you. I mean, how many thought I was the worst thing to happen to Finn? Like I was a leech, sucking out his soul or something! Even now, I know how people see us, crazy, co-dependent, got married way too soon, etc. But you know what?" Kurt turns around to face her since she doesn't continue, and she grabs him by the shoulders, eyes shining. "No one understands anyone." A big smile illuminates her face and she takes a step back, letting Kurt go. "I've never been happier and I don't care what people say, I know Finn feels the same way. All you have to remember is that, from the outside, every relationship looks screwed up. Bottom line, as cliché as it sounds, you follow your heart and to hell with the rest!"
She waits for an acknowledgment, Kurt can sense it. "I see what you mean. And thanks, really, Rach."
"But…" she insists.
"But the biggest problem is still there. He doesn't feel that way anymore." Kurt laments.
"Wow, you really enjoy being the victim, don't you?" she retorts. Dark glare ensues. "OK, bad choice of words. Anyway, you have the opportunity to find out! Man up, answer him and then go to bed because you clearly won't be any fun for us tonight!"
"Pff! Sir, yes sir!" Kurt mutters, earning him a solid slap behind the head. "Ouch, you don't know your strength Rach!" he protests.
She pushes him towards the door, not sorry at all. "I told you it'd happen if you were to call me that again! Come on, execute!"
Although that conversation has somewhat lifted his spirits, it's only temporary. When Kurt climbs the stair to his room, after saying goodnight to his family, his smile slowly wanes. Dave's text remains unanswered and his own doubts can't be quieted. While they say that it's best to sleep on it, he fears that, given his pessimistic nature, the proverb doesn't apply to him.
He is glowing from happiness. Quite natural, considering his thoughts relentlessly feed him reasons to smile. Random bits of pop songs keep coming to him; occasionally a line or two escape his lips. To the persons he passes on the way to the terminal, he looks wonderfully merry, even a little enraptured. Well, hope can do that to a guy. It makes him wonder what other kind of spells Blaine really possesses. How else can it be explained? The guy managed, with only a few carefully chosen words, to lift Dave's confidence to unsuspected heights.
Once inside the plane, he forces his bag in the overhead compartment and seizes the opportunity to do the same for the middle-aged woman who sits beside him. He plops down in his seat and closes his eyes. The flight isn't even 2 hours long but he wants to maximize this time. Details to polish, fantasies to make true, that sort of things.
It took him 3 days to change. Once Blaine confessed what he knew of Kurt's feelings, his mind became like an energy-saving lighting bulb. After you turn it on, there's always a delay before full light is reached. Well, once the seed of possibility was implanted in Dave's imagination, 3 days is how long it took for it to fully grow. He reflected on the idea of Kurt actually liking him, despite the hurt, the mistakes, and most of all, despite his failings. When he started to truly believe it, dreams emerged progressively. Nothing major, visions of him and Kurt huddled together in front of the TV, or busy with a heavy make-out session and some others, let's say, more graphic idealizations. Stuff he used to imagine at night, when it was safe. This time though, it could become more than reveries. So he left his pride behind him and decided to admit that he wanted something, someone precisely. After that, it all unraveled quite fast. A dip in his savings for the plane ticket and the rental car from Columbus airport, a phone call to his parents to alert them he was coming home for a few days and he was on his way.
The traditional Karofsky Thanksgiving celebration is no small reunion. It's more of an excuse to bring together every single member of the extended family. Then they can either boast about their own success or bitch about those who are more successful than them. "Holidays at home, or how to drive me insane, one relative at the time!" Dave thinks sarcastically. He takes a huge gulp of his beer to calm his nerves. Aunt Caroline is pressed against his side (that woman has no idea what personal space means!) and is elaborating on the virtues of her 3 daughters. There's no escape. He smiles and nods while she talks but his mind is miles away. His cell is constantly in his hand and he can't help checking it every 5 minutes. "Come on Kurt, answer me!" he thinks, as if he could will a text from him. No, the phone remains silent in his clammy hands, and stays this way the whole evening. Finally free of family obligations, Dave slides between the sheets of his old bed. He tosses around for a good while. Whether it's because of the many infuriating comments his parents made during the meal or because of his empty inbox, it's irrelevant. One bugs him more than the other, that's it.
He wakes at 7 on Friday. Definitively, his body isn't aware that he's on vacation. He comes down the stairs, only to be greeted by half the Karofsky clan. They really chose their day to be early birds! He grabs one of the cups his mother is filling with the coffee carafe. He has the time to drink exactly 2 sips before his mother tries her "See How My Son Is Normal" act again.
"Are you going to bring your girlfriend Kara with you when you visit us next time, David?"
She's not lying, technically. Kara is his girlfriend, not in the same way she wishes, of course. He looks at her in disbelief. She meets his look and merely pinches her lips. She wants him to play the game. Calmly, he deposits his cup and wipes his mouth. "You know what Mom? I'm not in the mood for this today. Continue your charade alone if it's that important to you." he declares. The next sound in the kitchen is the echo of the front door being slammed.
He gets in his car and drives away, a little too fast maybe. Something about that stuffy mood inside the house, that passive-aggressive bullshit she always does. It just makes him want to down a 12-pack, chain-smoke furiously, any destructive behavior really. His grip tightens on the wheel as he passes a convenience store but he doesn't stop. "You know better now, you know different…" he repeats to himself. A series of flagpoles attract his eyes. West McKinley High School, right in front of him. "I always forget how close it is." he muses. Suddenly he feels a violent urge to go there, like a pilgrimage. He hasn't set foot there since his graduation; maybe it's time to confront his memories.
He parks the sedan next to the football field and gets out slowly. He leans against the hood of the car, tightening his jacket around him. The wind is fierce and humid. He looks around and notices how little the place has changed. Granted, not much change can be expected in 4 years.
Out of habit, his feet lead him to the opened gate. He still misses football, no matter how much he loves hockey. He crunches his way across the frozen grass and settles against the bleachers. He catches sight of a slender figure, jogging at the perimeter of the field. "He's got the right idea for warming up!" Since there's little else to observe, his gaze examines the jogger. Total black outfit, save from the bright blue headset, whose cord flashes regularly under his flexed arms. He makes a 90-degree turn at the goal line and Dave can see his profile. "No fucking way. What are you doing here Hummel?" he mumbles under his breath. He crosses the field, walking at first, and then running to intercept Kurt. He stops a few feet from the boy. Kurt, deeply focused, nearly clashes into Karofsky.
"Move out of the way Dave, I'm losing my rhythm here…" he mutters. He pulls the earphones out of his ears anyway and rolls them up, carefully. Dave stares at him, unfazed. His reply is sharp, authoritarian. "We're not kids anymore, Kurt." he says. "I'm not gonna move, you're gonna listen to me, like it or not! You can ignore my calls but you won't ignore me here!" Kurt lifts his head as he hears the almost-shouted words, surprised. Dave knows he feels it too. Never mind what he just said, in some way they're like they used to be. Especially right now: same place, same pent-up frustration… He takes a deep breath before continuing, knowing it's up to him to make things move forward.
"Look, Blaine told me, he told me everything."
A flicker of fear appears in Kurt's eyes. Momentary weakness, he seals his mouth and hardens his posture. "Kurt, always the brave soldier" Dave thinks sadly.
The jock makes as if he was reaching for the guy in front of him. Kurt can see in the corner of his eye the hand nearing his face. Hell, he can imagine the heat that radiates from it, warming his cold cheek. It's so close, he can almost feel it. There's this boy, man actually, looking at him with a half-smile and brilliant eyes. And it could be that simple, but simple isn't Kurt Hummel so he swats it away.
"Whatever Blaine said, you can forget it. It has no importance whatsoever now." he says stiffly. "I don't need your pity, Dave. Leave me alone, it's all I'm asking of you. You've made yourself perfectly clear." He finishes in a whisper, taking a few steps away.
"That's the point, damn it! I haven't! Fuck, you never give me a chance to explain!" he snaps. "Don't do this Kurt, and don't you walk away!" he adds suddenly as he sees him retreating. He grabs his sleeve and tugs it to make Kurt face him. The younger man's expression (hurt, anger, shame too?) then sends a punch to his gut. Liberating him, he shakes his head in despair.
"Just hear me out, OK?" he asks. He struggles to keep his voice steady as he continues. "When I pushed you away, it wasn't because I was scared of being seen or some shit like that… Yeah, OK, I was scared, scared of you. Or no, actually I was afraid of me. I don't trust myself when you're around, Kurt."
Said Kurt is looking intently away. "This is gonna be harder than I thought." the jock thinks, frustrated. He goes on with his speech nonetheless, pouring all his honesty into it. "It's not that you don't matter to me, more like you matter too much. I can't explain it, you just do. And at first I didn't want to confuse you, or screw us up any more. But if you want more, well, I'm here to tell you that I do too."
"I don't believe you. " Kurt says somberly. Those words, coupled with the conflict that so clearly tears Kurt up inside, finish making Dave snap.
"Fuck! You're really gonna continue pretending? God, I'm this close to slapping you, I swear!"
"Oh really, already reverting to your old ways?" Kurt answers back harshly.
A strange air passes over Dave's eyes while these words seem to float around them. Not one of remorse, as Kurt half-expected it. Not threatening either. The hockey player just starts advancing slowly, making Kurt back away at the same pace. The singer feels his stomach curl into tight knots and all color drain from his face. He bites his lower lip when he feels the metal of the fence dig into his back, preventing him from going any further.
Dave, still silent, extends his left arm and threads his fingers in the loops next to Kurt's head. He leans forward, his breath ghosting over Kurt's face. The young man seems to have lost his own ability to breathe, his features frozen. His brain registers Dave's words automatically; they're curiously smooth, like velvet to his ears.
"Maybe, it's that's what it takes…"
Kurt closes his eyes, just in time. Had he kept them open, he might not have enjoyed the crushing impact of Dave's kiss to its fullest. Because it is overwhelming, this mouth devouring his, this tongue dutifully searching for his. He swears he can even feel the blood coursing under the thin skin of Dave's lips. He doesn't even realize that his hands are sneaking around the other boy's waist to pull him closer. He does notice when one of Dave's travel down, squeezing his butt, while the other slips inside the raised hair on the back of his head. When they part, a small whimper escapes his lips, because he already feels like he's missing him, even if Dave is just inches away. He lifts his eyelids, gluing his gaze to Dave's intense stare. Reason, that ever-nagging bitch, pushes the start of a protest to his lips. Dave cuts it short by a lingering kiss.
"Don't start. It's only wrong if you want it to be." he whispers against his mouth. Kurt's head drops and his slender hands come up, resting lightly on Dave's heaving chest. The jock doesn't push it any further, sensing Kurt's need to process this. When the younger man lifts his head back up, he looks so lost, it wrings Dave's heart.
He gently cradles Kurt's face in his big hands and smiles. He doesn't get one in return. "You're gonna make me say it, aren't you?" Dave murmurs. "Fine… I think I love you, Kurt." he breathes. He tilts his head to the side, trying to decipher Kurt's expression. All he can make is that the eyes he's contemplating have never seemed brighter. "It's gotta be a good thing…" he tells himself. It presses him to continue.
"I don't know why, or for how long I have, I just know it's there. It's everywhere, in fact. I used to run away from this kind of feeling but with you I can't. I just want to see where it'll lead us." He stops abruptly. More than anything, he needs to hear Kurt's voice now. "What do you say?" he asks urgently.
His stare is insistent but Kurt is no longer afraid to hold his gaze. He allows the growing wave of joy inside to show in a broad, dazzling smile. At this sight, Dave finally releases the breath he was holding. Kurt's grin turns mischievous. "Why don't we play it by ear?" he murmurs, leaning in for more. When Dave's hand snakes around his neck, fitting perfectly, he gets the distinctive feeling that it could work. And when their lips join again, entering a sensual ballet, there's an increasing burning in his belly that extends to everywhere, from his fingertips to his toes. Now he's certain, this will work.
A/N: Just a final note to sincerely thank everybody who read and reviewed this story, or even just added it to their alerts or favorites. Knowing your writing is appreciated warms the heart in a unique way!