Author's Note: This chapter, the one which precedes it, and the one which follows it (10, 11, and 12) are meant to be read and considered as one chapter. They were originally written as one chapter, but, due to its length, I divided it into three separate installments.

This began as a collaborative work, but the co-author has since discontinued work on this piece. The characters will be markedly different than they were previously as this project is now mine alone.

The collaborative work had been four chapters in length, but I have deleted all but the first chapter (as that was my work alone). The work henceforth will be mine. Feedback will be appreciated.

Thank you.

The author claims no ownership to the characters, settings, or events from the television series Glee.

Approximate words this chapter: 13,000

Text of an email received from KEHummelnyc at hmail dot net, Friday August 14, 2015

Hi David,

I hope this message gets to you. This was the only email address I had for you, and I hadn't used it in literally three years. Also, I should have written weeks ago, but, better late than never, as they say, I suppose.

I wanted to tell you that it was really great running into you while we were both in Lima. I never expected to see you, but it was very nice to see a friendly face and nice to reconnect with you.

I also wanted to make a point to thank you for being a rational voice while I was at Scandals. I feel like a fool for making things awkward, and I would have possibly felt terrible if I'd have followed through doing something out of poor judgement that night. When I returned to my parent's house, I called Adam and we had a nice long talk, much like I said we would. It reminded me of the things that he and I have that are so amazing. Again, I have you to thank for that moment of reason, at least partially.

At the end of this message, I've left my phone number. You can email or call any time you'd like to catch up or talk about anything. Of course if you're ever planning a trip to New York, I would volunteer my services as your tour-guide (and I wouldn't take 'no' for an answer!); and it goes without saying that if you ever need fashion advice, I'm the one you should consult (and I promise that I won't get you into something inappropriate or uncomfortable).

Your friend always,

Kurt

"Pretty swanky scene they have going here," Paul sidemouthed to Dave as they stood along a wall, almost in a corner, of the large meeting-room, out of the way of the greater amount of action. They had just walked away from the long buffet table, each filling a paper-plate with small food items and collecting a napkin and plastic fork.

"So, you're okay with coming here tonight then?" Dave replied, sounding tentative but confident in the likely reply given Paul's relaxed appearance.

"Definitely. The food looks great, everybody seems to be having a nice time, there's live music, and I'm enjoying just watching the everything."

Dave craned his head to see the jazz combo at the far side of the room: a piano-player and an upright bassist, were playing a kinetic backing while a petite woman with short, dark pixie hair wearing a tasteful black gown phrased wordless melodies to the rhythm.

"Do you like the music?"

Paul answered as he speared a small, saucy meatball with his fork.

"Yeah, it's kind-of, um, bouncy, and it's not so loud that you can't carry on a conversation," Paul noted as he placed the meatball in his mouth.

Dave observed further, "Yeah, it looks like the people at that end of room are liking it."

"It's easy on the ears. Nice background music, but interesting to listen to at the same time. Wow, this food is good."

Dave grinned as he lifted a stuffed mushroom cap from his plate.

"So, you're enjoying yourself then?"

"Sure. I was afraid that I was going to be out-of-place, underdressed or something. A lot of the people here are pretty formal, but there are enough casually-dressed people like us here."

"So I did good for your first night out in Portland?"

Paul turned and smiled at Dave, speaking in a bright tone, "So far, so good."

The two continued to eat and comment, small but enthusiastic, on their food as people in small groups traversed the large room. A group of several more dressy people stopped near the two of them, involved in their own pleasant and animated conversation. People came and left the group in intervals, and the party-goers seemed unfailingly polite and conscious of others in attendance.

As their plates emptied, Dave spoke again to Paul.

"So, what did you think of John?"

"He seems like a nice fellow. Kind-of energetic, excitable even, but not in a bad way or anything."

"The first couple of times we hung out, that, um, excitable thing was kinda hard to take. Once he mellowed-out, he was easier to hang with, but it's cool to see him excited like this once in a while. I mean, when he's really into doing something."

"Where'd he go anyway?" Paul asked as he craned his head around the room.

"Oh, he's just outside the entrance. He's working the door tonight, acting as greeter to all of the potential sponsors for the film festival. He had to be here tonight, so I thought it would be a cool thing to do if we came here too."

Paul nodded, eyeing his freshly-emptied plate.

"Did you wanna go get more food, Dad?"

"Not just yet. I think I need something to drink. Do you want something from the bar?"

Dave's brow creased. "Um, what are you going to have?"

"Uh," Paul shook his head, rolling his eyes for a moment as if in thought, "probably a martini?"

"I'm fairly ignorant on mixed drinks. I usually just drink beer or shots with my friends. Why don't you get something for me?"

Paul shrugged, smiling, agreeable. "Okay. I'll be back in a few."

Dave stepped a few feet to a trash can, depositing his and Paul's emptied plates and used napkins. On Dave's return, he noticed that the crowd that was to his side had thinned to a single person, a middle-aged woman, probably close to his dad's age. He nodded and smiled at her. She was tall and thin, pretty and sophisticated-looking with dark hair and high cheekbones, and she returned Dave's gesture with an unpretentious smile.

"This is a nice event, huh?"

The woman's face brightened as she welcomed the conversation.

"Yes, I come to these every year."

"This is the first time I've been to one. Hi. My name's Dave."

Dave held out his hand and she took her right hand from her small clutch-handbag and shook his hand.

"Camille. Nice to meet you, Dave."

"Nice to meet you, Camille. That's a pretty name."

"Thank you," she rolled her eyes, humored, a disarming expression.

"There was a bunch of people here with you before."

"Yeah, they all went to the buffet table. Like an idiot, I ate dinner a couple of hours ago with some friends from work so I'm not hungry at all, and the food here is always so good. You'd think I'd plan these things better because, like I said, this is a yearly thing for me."

"So, how long have you been coming to these?"

"This will be the sixth year. My son got me started. He volunteered at the Q-Center when he was in college, and we used to go together. He lives with his partner in Seattle now, but he'll make it down for the actual film festival, or at least a few days of it."

Dave's attention was drawn to Paul as he returned from the bar holding two martini glasses, handing one off to Dave.

"What did you get me?"

"It's a typical gin martini, nothing fancy. It's gonna be pretty strong so just sip on it. Don't chug it."

Dave sipped it and wrinkled his brow.

"Wow, yeah. That is strong. Kinda sucked all of the moisture off of my tongue."

Paul chuckled for a moment. "It'll be good with some of the food. Hey, could you hold my drink while I go find the restroom?"

"Sure," Dave replied as he accepted the second glass from Paul and Paul walked toward the entryway.

Dave sipped his drink again, turning back to the woman and raising his eyebrows, almost proudly.

"My first martini ever."

"So the night is full of firsts for you," the woman observed.

"Yep."

"You two make a really handsome couple."

Dave was still for a moment, confused, then broke a crooked smile, shaking his head.

"That's my dad."

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!"

Dave shook his head, laughing fully, nearly spitting his last sip of his martini, before he spoke.

"No, it's okay, really. I mean, it's funny but totally understandable. A lot of younger guys go for the daddy-thing, and a lot of older guys like younger guys."

The woman blushed, silent, her awkwardness apparent.

"Well, you called me half of a handsome couple, so I'll take that as a compliment, and my dad would probably feel complimented as well."

"Well, thanks for not being offended."

"Nothing to be offended about."

"Well, okay, let's change the subject. It's your first time here. What brings you here tonight then?"

"My roommate," Dave answered, swallowing another sip of his drink. "He works at the Film Center and he helps put the film festival together. He's greeting people at the door tonight."

"Oh, the talkative redhead?"

"That's him!" Dave proclaimed, producing a huge smile. "And my dad doesn't live here, so while he's visiting me, I thought it'd be fun if bring him along."

"And he seems to be enjoying himself."

"So far, so good, as he himself said earlier. So, other than the people you were talking with before, are you here with anyone?"

"Well, I rode here with a couple of friends, but, like I said, I used to come to these events with my son."

"What about his dad?"

Camille rolled her eyes. "My son's father and I divorced a few years ago. He couldn't handle having a gay son, so that was the end of that."

Dave's face sobered. "I'm sorry to hear that, but it's pretty-much the same thing that happened to me. I mean, my mom couldn't deal with me. My parents split just this summer."

"I'm sorry. It's hard, I know."

"Hey, I'm doing okay. I get along great with my dad, and I have awesome friends."

"I'm back. Can I have my drink?" Paul's words startled Dave into a laugh upon his return.

"Sure," Dave spoke, returning the full martini to his father. "Dad, this is Camille. We just kinda started talking while you were away."

Paul smiled and bowed slightly. "Nice to meet you, Camille. I'm Paul."

"Pleasure to meet you, Paul," Camille smiled her reply. "You have a charming son."

"I take after my dad," Dave interjected, inappropriately loud.

Paul chuckled a quiet laugh in response.

"So, Dave tells me that you're visiting him. Have you ever been to an event like this?"

Paul shook his head as he swallowed a sip of his drink. "No. First time I've ever been to Portland; first time I've ever been to an event like this one. It's really nice. I'm liking the city, and I'm liking my time here so far."

"Okay, you've only been here a little over a day at this point," Dave added, dry.

Paul turned and glared at Dave with a slight grin as Camille laughed aloud at the exchange.

"Hey, if the two of you don't mind, I'm gonna go track down my roommate and see how he's doing," Dave said, bright. "I won't be gone too long."

"No problem," Paul replied, patting Dave's shoulder as he walked away.

As Dave walked through the large room, growing more crowded by the minute, he nodded and smiled at some of the people as they caught his attention receiving congenial wordless recognitions in return. Outside the entryway to the room, he saw John from the back, currently standing at a small table, marking items on a checklist.

"Hey there," Dave spoke on his approach.

John lifted from his bent-over position, appearing almost jumpy, and turned to see Dave.

"Oh, hey!"

"How's it going out here?"

"It's going okay. Just handing out the programs and door-prize tickets and stuff as people come in."

"How's the turnout compared to other years?"

"I can't tell until the night's over, but it looks like there's more here now than there was this early in the evening last year. I was just tallying up the number of programs I've handed out so far."

"You busy or something?"

"Nah," John dismissed. "Just kinda keeping myself moving while there's no one coming it at the moment."

Dave ran his eyes over John's form. John was wearing a black dress shirt, black dress pants, a charcoal-gray pinstriped vest, and a black fedora: the dark monochrome was offset by a bright, satiny blue necktie, and the dark colors played dramatically with John's fair skin tone and the red of his beard.

"I didn't tell you before, but you look really great tonight."

"Thanks!" John's bright response coincided with a smile and an expression which suggested that the compliment was completely unexpected.

"Are you bored out here?"

"No, not at all. It's cool being able to see everyone as they come in, and I can turn around and get a look at how the room's filling up. Where's your dad? How's he liking it here?"

"Dad is enjoying himself. He likes the food, and he bought me my first-ever martini." Dave raised his glass and smirked as if providing the evidence of the event. "Otherwise, I struck up a conversation with a lady who was standing near us, and when she and Dad started talking, I took the opportunity to excuse myself to see what you're up to."

"That's nice."

"Yeah, um, do you want me to grab a plate of food for you or something? Or grab you a drink maybe?"

"No drinks yet," John declined. "Maybe later in the night. You could grab me some cookies or something like that."

"They have some, uh, non-sweet food over there too, really awesome stuff. I had some spicy Asian meatballs and cheesy puff-pastry and some kinda Italian thing that tasted like lasagna but looked like deep-dish pizza."

John rolled his eyes, appearing affectedly overwhelmed by the variety Dave just itemized. "You just sold me on all of that, but mostly because I'm kinda hungry."

"Okay, then, watch my drink for me while I go get us some food. I'll be back in a few."

Dave placed his drink on the small table where John was stationed and reentered the large hall. As he walked to the buffet tables, he scanned the room. Although it was more crowded than it was only a few minutes before, he easily located Paul and Camille, still standing at the far side of the room and still engaged in conversation. Camille was smiling, possibly laughing, as Paul was talking and gesturing with his hands as part of the conversation; both Paul and Camille were holding drinks at this point as well.

After filling two plates, one with savory items and the other with various cookies and sweet pastries, and collecting forks and napkins, Dave returned to the entryway. He saw that John was also engaged in conversation, handing event booklets to a group of five people who had just arrived.

"Inside the booklet you'll find the film schedule. Now, the film festival starts the first weekend in October and runs to the following weekend, and there's some information about the films we'll be showing as well. Tonight is a fund-raising event, so there's a form inside if you should want to make a donation to the Q-Center or be one of the film festival's sponsors, and, if you'd rather do that stuff online, the website address is in there also. They have it set up on the website so it's all super-easy. There's a list of sponsors on the back page, so be sure to support them. Your door-prize tickets are inside the booklets as well, so go ahead inside, have some food, enjoy the music, and have a good time!"

John's delivery was rapid and enthusiastic, almost intense but disarmingly so, and the group of people were pleasantly receptive to John's exuberance, thanking him as he handed the booklets to each guest.

John turned to watch them enter the hall, and as they passed, John noticed Dave's return and the fascinated expression on his face.

Dave approached quietly and placed the two plates onto the far side of the table.

"Sounds like you're really into it."

"Huh?" John commented as he eyed the contents of the plates.

"The spiel you gave those people. You sounded rehearsed and spontaneous at the same time, and totally into it."

John chuckled momentarily. "Well, the film festival is something I am into, something I believe in, and something that I've worked on, so, yeah, I guess I'm into promoting it. I mean, I was into it before I even was involved at the film center."

Dave nodded, understanding, as John picked up one of the plastic forks, using it to pop a meatball into his mouth.

"Wow, that's good," John exclaimed, almost melodramatic.

"Told ya."

"How's your dad doing in there?"

Dave grinned as he scooped a quantity of shredded chicken onto a tortilla chip and raised it to his mouth.

"He's still talking to that lady we met. Kinda funny. She and I were talking while my dad was away at the restroom. She thought my dad and I were a couple."

John's eyes popped wide as he displayed a stunned expression with a mouthful of food, making a high-pitched sound behind it, and swallowing quickly.

"Oh my god! That is so awkward!"

"Nah," Dave dismissed, smiling. "She was totally embarrassed when I told her that he's my dad, but I just thought it was funny. I mean, hey, I see younger and older guys together all the time. Attraction doesn't pay attention to things like age."

"Yeah, you're right," John conceded. "Your dad's pretty awesome, by the way."

"Thanks! I'm glad you think so! He likes you too."

"Cool," John mumbled through another bite of food. "You're right, the food is awesome, but I'm never gonna be able to eat all of those cookies and brownies and stuff myself."

"Actually, I filled that plate up for the both of us. Dad's occupied for the present time, so I thought I'd hang out here with you for a while. You sure you don't want something to drink? They have coffee at the buffet table."

"Nah, I'll just stick to my bottled water right now. Maybe a mixed drink or two sometime later before we leave. I think, with me being already wound-up and the sugar, coffee wouldn't be the best idea."

"Probably right about that," Dave agreed, creasing his brow.

"You better have some more of this food before I eat it all," John spoke as he popped a cheese-stuffed pastry into his mouth.

"Nah, I brought it mostly for you because I already had a plateful of that stuff. I'll split the cookies and stuff with you fifty-fifty, but the plate of, like, regular food is yours."

John took that as a cue to devour the remainder of savory food, which he did quickly, before taking a gulp from his water bottle.

A small group of people arrived at the door and John seamlessly jumped into action, handing each a program booklet and giving them approximately the same introduction he had given the earlier group, and with the same amount of energy: the later hour had apparently done nothing to dull his social aptitude.

From his small distance, Dave watched John in action, quietly humored.

As the group of new arrivals filed past the table and into the larger room, John modestly returned his attention to the plate of sweet items.

"I see you collected, like, two of everything on this plate," John observed, picking up a cream-filled pastry.

"Like I said, I kinda planned to share that one with you," Dave spoke as he lifted a brownie to his mouth.

"That's nice actually."

"What is?"

"Your company, very thoughtful," John offered as he plucked a small, rough-looking, dome-shaped cookie from the plate. "I mean, I'd just be bored between arrivals otherwise, so you're saving me from boredom here."

"Cool."

"Hey!" John exclaimed as he identified the cookie in his hand, "It's a macaroon!"

Dave grinned and nodded recognition in response.

"Um, I'm not complaining, actually I'm kinda glad, but I thought this event would be a little, like, wilder than it is," Dave offered.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm having a nice time, but I expected some, like, I dunno, some more, um obvious signs that this is a queer event."

"You mean, like drag queens or something?"

Dave nodded, slightly restrained, smirking. "Yeah, something like that."

"John smirked, the edge of a laugh. "What? You set your dad up for culture-shock or something?"

Dave snickered and shrugged. "No, nothing like that. I just expected it to be more of that kinda stuff. Like I said, actually cool that it's as laid-back as it is."

John answered after chewing and swallowing a bite of macaroon.

"Well, this is mainly an event for the rich, stuffy, potential sponsors. Some of the more colorful people might show up later, or at any time really, but, to them, unless there's a specific reason for them to be here, there are better ways to blow a Saturday night."

"I gotcha."

The two continued to consume the confections in relative silence until a new group of event attendees arrived, requiring John's attention.

"Hey, I'm gonna go check on Dad," Dave spoke, hushed.

"Yeah, no problem," John answered, "Catch up with me later then."

Dave reentered the larger hall and noticed a larger group of people surrounding the jazz band. They were playing an uptempo swing rhythm, freeform jamming; the vocalist was silent though clapping with the beat.

Camille and Paul were not where Dave had last seen them. There was, instead, a group of people concentrated in that area. Dave inspected the area with closer scrutiny to see if they were among or perhaps behind the crowd. From his vantage point, he concluded that they were not. Dave spun his head, scanning the room quickly for the pair. His eyes came to rest on the group of people who were encircling the jazz band. The area where the band was playing was bathed in a pool of light, making the rest of the hall appear darker by comparison. Dave could see some of the surrounding people moving to the beat, not quite dancing, some bouncing slightly, some clapping. When the vocalist began to sing to the rhythm instruments, Dave identified the familiar silhouette of his father and the less-familiar but certain form of Camille beside him.

Some day, when I'm awfully low
When the world is cold
I will feel a glow just thinking of you...
And the way you look to-night

Paul was standing still but appearing relaxed as Camille, mere inches from Paul's side was swaying to the jumpy beat. Dave could see her turn to Paul at one point, smiling, she appeared to be laughing or perhaps speaking cheerfully, it was impossible to tell at Dave's distance, but the vision made him smile in kind.

Yes you're lovely, with your smile so warm
And your cheeks so soft
There is nothing for me but to love you
And the way you look to-night

Dave took the moment to approach the pair from behind.

"Looks like you're having a good time," Dave spoke over their shoulders with a smile, snaring their attention.

Paul and Camille turned, smiling as well.

"Yes, a very nice time, David," Paul answered. "The food is good, the band is very good, and the conversation couldn't be more engaging."

Camille laughed politely with a hint of self-consciousness, clasping her hands in front of herself as the three faced the band again.

The band kept the tempo but returned to free-form swing improvisation with the singer creating a string of wordless, ethereal vocals.

"Hey!" the three heard from behind, turning to see that John had found them. "Looks like you're all having fun!"

Dave, Paul, and Camille nodded affirmatively as John continued.

"I got a break. One of the other Q-Center people took over for me at the door, and a couple of more, um, colorful people showed up a few minutes ago."

John raised an eyebrow and jerked his head, diverting their attention to an area to the left of the band. There was an improbably tall, broad-shouldered, buxom figure whose height was extended further by a dark-brown, impossibly high wig in a beehive style. The figure wore surreally garish (though impeccably applied) makeup and was adorned in a tight, multi-colored psychedelic mini-dress, dark stockings, and white go-go boots. The person was accompanied by a formally-attired, shaven-headed thin man with prominent five-o'clock shadow, and the pair were exuberantly dancing a flamboyant jitterbug to the fast rhythm of the band.

Dave's face broke an uncertain smile as Camille howled and clapped merrily. Dave glanced at his father to witness a dazed-but-genuine smile form on his face.

"That more what you expected?" John spoke covertly, leaning to Dave.

Dave nodded, jerky and slight. "Yeah. That'd be it. Looks like Dad's cool with it too."

As they watched the pair and other observers clapped in time, encouraging the vivacious movements of the two dancers, a small group of people approached Camille, diverting her attention. After speaking with them for a moment, she spoke aloud to Dave, Paul, and John.

"Hey, my friends and I are leaving now. It was really nice meeting all of you." Camille reached her hand out to Dave, Paul, and John, pausing to address John. "I don't think you and I were introduced. I'm Camille.

"I'm John. Nice to meet you, Camille."

"I really enjoyed meeting all of you," she spoke to the group collectively.

"The pleasure was ours," Paul added, almost abruptly as Dave and John nodded a likewise sentiment.

"So, how long do you hafta stay?" Dave directed at John.

"I can leave any time. The person that took over for me said they'll handle the door for the rest of the night."

"Anywhere you kids wanted to go after this?" Paul asked Dave and John.

"I know it's not late or anything, but I'd be okay with calling it a night," Dave offered. "I mean, you and me got started pretty early today, making the rounds around town."

"You'll get no argument from me," John chimed. I was here helping them set up the event before I had to work the door, so, yeah, home is fine."

"Unless you had your heart set on bar-hopping or something," Dave volunteered to Paul, half-joking.

"Nah," Paul smirked and shook his head. "I'm fine with heading back to the hotel. We've got all next week to see the rest of the city."

As the three of them walked toward the entryway, John waved at the dancing man-in-drag and her partner. The queen, in response, ran to John, took his hand, and engaged him to dance. John obliged, laughing and moving convincingly, if slightly forced, having been caught by surprise. Paul and Dave were amused by the pantomime which lasted less than a minute. John waved politely as his brief partner sashayed to her original one, smiling and winking at the trio as they exited the hall.

Paul rode Dave and John to their apartment in his rental car. Though few words were exchanged during the twenty-minute trip, the feeling was comfortable and relaxed.

"You're gonna give me a call when you get back to your hotel, right, Dad?" Dave spoke while stepping from the vehicle.

"Yes, of course," Paul sounded affectedly nagged.

"Hey, it's not like you're exactly familiar with the city," Dave defended, equally affected. "I don't want you getting lost or something."

"I have GPS, but, okay, I said I'd call."

"Good night, Mr. K!" John exclaimed as he walked toward away from the car, waving. "Thanks for driving!"

"No problem. Nice meeting you, John. Goodnight, guys."

"Bye, Dad."

After watching Paul turn at the end of their street and return to the intersecting street in the direction opposite of the one which brought them there, Dave and John stepped into their apartment. John immediately loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar and made a straight line to the hallway and his bedroom while Dave walked to the kitchen.

"I was gonna have a beer," Dave called out, "You want one?"

"Uh," John's voice was muffled from the distance. "Do you have anything stronger? Long day and I'm kinda wound-up."

Dave opened the pantry above the refrigerator, spying its contents.

"There's a bottle of Beam that Scoop left here up in the cupboard. Not much in it, but enough for a couple of drinks."

"Anything to mix it with?"

Dave opened the refrigerator and checked its contents, pooling light into the otherwise darkened kitchen.

"We have cola. Does that work?"

"Yeah, that's good."

Dave pulled two glasses from the adjacent cupboard and poured a quantity of the liquor into each, filled the remaining space in the glass with the cola, and sealed the bottles. He left the whiskey on the counter but returned the cola to the refrigerator and walked to the living room area with both glasses, placing them on the coffee table and dropping himself onto the couch.

"I thought you were having a beer," John commented upon arriving in the living room and seeing the two glasses on the coffee table. He was still wearing the black dress pants and dress shirt, but the shirt was unbuttoned and open exposing a plain white T-shirt underneath; he'd discarded his hat and vest, leaving them in the bedroom. John walked to Dave's side of the coffee table and sat on the couch beside him.

"I thought that if I was gonna make you a mixed drink, I'd have one also. I gotta warn you, though, I'm pretty new to mixed drinks, and that was always Scoop's thing, so the proportion of Beam to coke could be way off."

"I'm sure it will work," John spoke as he reached for a glass and Dave followed likewise.

"Well, if it doesn't, there's still some left in the bottle in the kitchen."

Both of them raised their glasses to their mouths and drank. Dave grimaced slightly while John's eyes squinted in reaction.

"A little strong?" Dave spoke.

"Tastes okay, and maybe a good kick is what I need after the day."

"Stressed out?"

"No, I just get needlessly wound-up when I do that kinda stuff, and this will help me to wind down."

Dave nodded as both leaned back onto the couch, drinks still in their hands.

"You seemed definitely into it. My dad referred to you as 'energetic' and Camille called you 'talkative'."

"Well, if that's the worst that they're saying about me, I'm okay with that," John said before he huffed and swallowed another gulp of his drink, jerking his head to one side.

"It was kinda cool to see you when you were working the door, introducing the people to the event. You seemed kinda in your element or something."

John snickered, a half-laugh. "Performing. When I was young, if I was good at something, like singing or dancing and people responded positively to that, I kinda ate it up. I guess even when I'm acting as a greeter and dealing with people who basically amount to strangers, that performer comes out again."

"You looked good doing it."

"Well, thank you!" John smiled affectedly wide and mock-bowed from his sitting position, jerking his head again.

"Speaking of dancing, do you know that person who pulled you out onto the dancefloor as we left?"

John chuckled. "I don't know them personally, but I've seen that pair around before: the big, beautiful drag queen and the thin guy. He's usually wearing a tux like he was tonight, but that was the first time I saw the queen in the sixties-mod look. They probably recognized me from other stuff, but we've never been introduced."

Dave nodded, smiling subtly, quiet a moment before speaking.

"You looked good when you were dancing. Sexy."

John perked, surprised. "Sexy?"

"Yeah, the way you were dressed, and you move pretty well. Noticed that before, the time I came home from work and you were dancing around the place."

John slurped his drink again, Dave noticing that it was nearly empty.

"You killed that pretty fast."

John shrugged. "Like I said, I needed to unwind."

"You want another?"

"If you're having another, sure."

Dave downed the remainder of his glass, a visible amount more than what was left in John's glass, recoiling from the strength of the drink, and stood up as John emptied his glass and passed it to Dave.

As Dave stepped toward the kitchen, his phone rang. He hurried to the kitchen to set the glasses onto the counter before answering the call.

"Hey, Dad. Make it back to the hotel okay?"

John could hear the scratchy, indecipherable answer coming from the phone.

"Yeah, good. It didn't take you long. Not much traffic around this time of night, even on a Saturday."

Another pause in Dave's speech before he spoke again.

"John and I were just hanging, talking about the evening. He kinda needed to relax before he goes to bed."

"Okay, Dad. Goodnight. Talk to you tomorrow."

After a minute passed, Dave returned to the living room with two refilled glasses and sat on the couch again, next to John.

"That emptied the bottle. I don't think these will be as strong as the last two were."

John's head twitched to the side again as Dave placed the glass into his head.

"You okay," Dave asked. "You keep jerking your head to one side."

John shrugged as he swallowed a gulp from the glass.

"I guess maybe I was a little stressed-out. My neck and my one shoulder is tense. I keep trying to jerk it loose."

"Lean forward," Dave spoke as he reclined placed his drink on the coffee table and moved himself to the edge of the couch.

John obliged Dave's request, moving himself to the edge of the couch and leaning toward the coffee table, turning his back slightly to Dave as Dave placed his hands on John's shoulders and the back of John's neck and rubbing the areas slowly.

"Uh," John noised, breathy.

"Good?"

"Yeah, really good," John spoke, airy. "Your hands are really strong. Feels awesome."

Dave smirked and wrinkled his brow, curious.

"Feels solid."

"Well," John remarked through a silly grin over his shoulder, "that's the effect of playing racquetball and basketball a couple of times a week."

"I kinda noticed it to look at you too, but I wasn't sure if it was my imagination."

"Nope, not your imagination. I haven't worn these pants for a few years because they've been too tight around the waist until just recently, but now I can wear them again. I've gotten in better shape since I've been living here. It's a good thing, right?"

"Definitely a good thing," Dave smirked, crooked as he moved his hands to John's upper-arms. "Arms are tightening-up too. Nice."

"I lost a little around the mid-section too. Like I said, these pants I'm weari..."

"Like I said, I've noticed that, but it's been a while since I've seen you, um, without clothes," Dave interrupted John's speech in mid-sentence, voice low, a gritty whisper. "Maybe I wanna see your, um, progress up close. Maybe we should both get undressed and compare. Who knows? Maybe you're in better shape than I am at this point. I mean, after all, I haven't been hitting the weight-room as regularly as I was a few months back, what with my internship."

John chuckled nervously, facing downward toward the coffee table, appearing almost shy. "C'mon, Dave. I might have lost a little and firmed-up, but I'm still a chubby guy, and you're built, like, great."

"So what?" Dave replied as he reached around John's torso, gripping him by his firm, thick pectorals and pulling him back, pressing John's back to Dave's chest. "So you're a little chubby. That doesn't mean you don't make my dick hard. And you being in better shape than you were a few weeks ago? Yeah, that makes it better, gives me something solid to grab onto."

John emitted a hissy giggle as he felt Dave's stubbly chin and warm breath against the back of his neck. He pushed himself against Dave, and they reclined as one into the corner of the couch.

Dave reached his right hand under John's T-shirt, running his fingers through the fur on his belly, working it higher, confirming that John's belly and chest were indeed firmer, harder than they'd been. He ran his fingertips over John's nipple, feeling a rigid peak form as he did. John slid to Dave's side, more against the back of the couch, making it possible for him to turn his head and meet Dave's lips with his.

John took an initiative, using his lips and the action of his mouth to part Dave's lips and swipe his tongue into Dave's mouth. Dave met John's tongue with his own, never to surrender to even the friendliest of challenges.

The kissing continued, becoming more aggressive, deeper, cruder given their awkward postures on the couch. When John turned himself to meet Dave's form more fully, he momentarily lost his equilibrium, bracing himself on the armrest just behind Dave before flopping on top of him.

"Whoa, there, Baryshnikov," Dave cackled. "You were all Fred Astaire on the dancefloor an hour ago, and now you're suddenly all clumsy. Why don't we take this into one of the bedrooms?"

"Solid idea: you don't hafta twist my arm," John commented, laughing at his own lack of physical grace. "Your room or mine?"

"Mine has the bigger bed."

"Sold!"

The two stood up. John reached downward, lifting his glass and gulping the remainder of his drink as Dave reached his arm, playful and rough, around John's shoulders, pulling him close.

"Frisky," John observed.

"You were all sexy tonight, and you got me all psyched to see you naked."

"You gonna finish your drink?" John nodded toward the partially-emptied glass on the coffee table.

Dave reached and lifted the glass, downing its contents in one swallow.

"Done."

Dave pulled John against himself and moved the two of them to his bedroom. Once inside, Dave unbuttoned his dress shirt, removed it, and pulled his T-shirt up and over his head. He kicked his shoes from his feet and was unbuckling his belt when he felt the impact of John against him, tackling him onto the surface of the bed.

"What the fuck, man?" Dave laughed as he righted himself to face John who was trying to climb on top of him.

"Thought you might be up for wrestling again."

"Oh, are you sure that's what you wanna do?" Dave challenged, still grinning. "Because, okay, you're in better shape than you were a couple of months ago, but you will still lose if we wrestle."

John stopped for a moment, his face mere centimeters from Dave's, a wicked grin on his face. He'd stripped to his T-shirt and boxer-briefs, but, given the hurried way he'd launched himself at Dave, he'd neglected to remove his glasses and his socks.

"What?" Dave grinned back at John.

John remained silent and grinning, the crotch of his boxer-briefs becoming prominent. Dave became aware that John had begun rhythmically rubbing his crotch against Dave's.

"Nice," Dave growled. "I've got my shirt off. Take yours off and let me see that chest, all recently firmed-up."

John obliged, smiling almost childishly and raising himself upright to stand on his knees, peeling his shirt upward and over his head, revealing in quick succession his hairy belly and chest.

Dave smiled also, biting his lower lip and letting his eyes travel over the bristled landscape of John's torso before raising his hands and gripping John's chest.

"You like it?"

"Yeah," Dave replied, casually, letting his tongue slide between his lips. "I liked it before, but it's maybe just a little nicer now."

John smiled wider in reply, appearing humbled, almost embarrassed by the compliments.

"Okay, now that I lost my shirt, we gotta get your pants off."

Dave laughed aloud, almost accusing. "That's what I was trying to do when you tackled me."

John's smile became devilish as he gripped the cuffs of Dave's pants and yanked.

"Slow down, dammit," Dave protested. "I'm not even unbuttoned or unzipped here yet!"

"Sorry," John's face reddened though his grin remained.

"Eager tonight," Dave voiced with a smirk as he unbuttoned the waist of his pants and ran the zipper down, his belt already unbuckled but the belt itself still threaded.

John responded by repeating the earlier motion at the cuffs, albeit less abruptly this time, dragging Dave's pants from his body. Dave grinned and let out a belly-laugh as John tossed his pants to the side to land on the floor.

The bulge in Dave's boxer-briefs was as prominent as John's. John closed the distance between them by falling forward, landing on his hands and addressing Dave's face.

"You said I was sexy earlier tonight. Did you mean that?"

Dave's forehead creased as he smiled, crooked. "Of course I meant that. What? You didn't believe me?"

"Just wanted to make sure I heard you right, that's all."

John moved his face abruptly forward, meeting Dave's in a rough kiss and again slid his bulging groin rhythmically against Dave's, the sensation heightened this time by the greater transmission of heat through the thin fabric of their underwear.

"You're definitely frisky tonight."

"Is that okay?" John's smile remained but became slightly uncertain.

"It's awesome," Dave broke into a laugh.

John smiled in return, no longer uncertain, as he rolled from Dave, half on his side, reaching downward to the waistband of Dave's boxer-briefs and sliding his hand inward.

"Hey, you gotta lose yours too," Dave joked.

"No problem," John pulled his hands to his own undergarment and slid it downward, the elastic catching for a moment on his erection which flopped out and sprung upward once freed from the stretchy fabric.

As he kicked the garment from his foot, John returned his attention to Dave who had similarly shed his boxer-briefs and was rolled onto his side reaching to his nightstand, retrieving some towels and pulling the drawer open. From this vantage-point John could see Dave's solid, rounded posterior, perfectly covered with a subtle, dark fuzz which concentrated in the center, growing darker within the cleft and thickest where his testicles hung, barely visible beneath the brush, to disperse into sparser, more definite swirls on the backs of his thighs.

"Oh, my."

"What?" Dave responded to John's mumbled exclamation, turning to address John from over his shoulder.

John shook his head and smirked. "I'm... I've never really seen your ass before."

"No?" Dave grinned in return.

"No. I mean, the other times we've played around, I was concentrating on other things, I guess. I never really, um, got a good look at it."

"So, what do you think?" Dave said as he rolled back toward the center of the bed, towels in hand, "Does it meet with your approval?"

"Dude, your ass is beautiful. I mean, I would have assumed you had a nice ass, but it's...damn."

"Oh, c'mon," Dave smirked, blushing.

"No, really, with the way your, um, pants fit you, I'd have never known."

"Um, yeah, the way I'm built, I would look kinda ridiculous in tight pants, I think, and yeah, I'm aware that I'm not, like, super leggy, so sometimes it looks like I'm kinda lacking in that department."

John shook his head, face reddening. "Well, I can see that you definitely are not."

John fell to the bed roughly onto his side, facing Dave. Each surveyed the other's face before John again launched forward, his mouth meeting Dave's. John's right hand traveled from the side of Dave's head down his neck to his chest where it lingered for a moment. John moved himself in Dave's direction, rolling on top of him again, arms embracing Dave while Dave's hands traversed the hairy topography of John's chest. The action wasn't exactly graceful, but their mouths remained engaged, more-or-less, through the motion. When their mouths pulled apart, their bodies remained in motion against each other, their rigid members sliding, nearly grinding, repetitive motion, wringing fluid from both of them.

John lowered himself, his head against Dave's chest for a moment. Dave raised his hands to grip John's shoulders and neck muscles.

"Solid," Dave spoke. "You're definitely getting solid."

John began marking a trail of kisses, almost soft bites from Dave's chin and down his neck. Their bodies remained in motion as John shifted, lowering himself so his mouth could make similar contact with Dave's fuzzy chest and nipples. As John shifted downward, the space between Dave's legs broadened, accommodating John's hips more comfortably between them.

It was in this position, while John was nearly lapping at Dave's chest, that Dave felt the warm, moist prodding of John's penis as it found its way to the space between Dave's buttocks. Dave felt a rush: the sensation was intense. John, however, remained unaware until Dave spoke.

"That is so fucking hot."

"You like to have your chest played with like that?"

"It's not that. Your cock is poking at my ass, and it's driving me insane."

John stopped moving, and both were still for a moment. John raised his head to address Dave directly. He remained silent, but resumed the action from a minute before, watching Dave's eyes widen before glazing-over and closing. Other parts of Dave's body were signaling receptive as well: his legs pulled upward, almost wrapping around John, and his penis continued to leak a pool of clear, thick liquid onto his belly.

"You want fucked, don't you?" John asked, a gruff whisper.

Dave opened his eyes, grinning crooked. "I told you weeks ago that I did."

"Tonight? Right now?"

"As good a time as any, right?"

John closed his eyes for a moment, smiling almost childishly. When he reopened his eyes, he addressed Dave directly, a strangely confident smile which Dave hadn't seen before. Dave's expression was slightly uncertain but eager, anticipating. John leaned forward into Dave, and their mouths met: the action was neither gentle nor rough; it was confident.

They held this posture of engaged lips, open mouths, and brushing tongues for a while, their breathing uniformly audible. John reached his right hand downward, brushing his hand and forearm over Dave's conspicuously engorged penis and his tight, softly-bristled scrotum as he reached deeper, working his fingers, determined, between the firmly-muscled divide until he could sense an increasing density of body hair and the softly-ridged flesh beyond. As he laid his fingers onto the breach, Dave's body stiffened for a moment, but the two held their embrace. Dave calmed and John pressed more firmly. John felt a tightening reaction against his fingers, but Dave remained composed, their mouths still locked. John pressed and gently probed the area, and it seemed to have relaxed into his touch.

Upon their mouths parting, John's right hand pushed further, increasing the firm pressure on Dave's sphincter. Dave's breathing reacted in a stuttered gasp.

"You okay?" John whispered, conscious.

Dave smiled, slightly dazed, eyes opening slowly. "Yeah, I'm great. I just... it's the first time I've ever been touched there by someone other than myself. Feels pretty amazing actually."

John's smile took on a playful nefariousness as he pulled his hand up to face-level, protruded his tongue, and licked his hand from the palm to the fingers, leaving a coating of saliva and returning his hand downward to Dave again. He applied his newly-wet fingers to Dave's skin, feeling until he sensed the tangible warmth of Dave's hungry orifice. As he slid his fingers onto the tight fold of flesh, he met Dave's mouth and tongue with his own, muffling a soft, wordless noise signing from Dave. John's hand felt a momentary tension recede and a diminished resistance, almost an invitation, take its place.

Dave broke his mouth away from the touch of John's lips to speak.

"Um, lube and condoms in the drawer of the nightstand. I was going for them before, but... aaahhhh..."

John had moved his lips to Dave's throat as he pressed a finger into Dave. The finger slid in smoothly but slowly, fighting less resistance than a lack of pliability.

"Still feeling okay?"

"Yeah," Dave breathed.

John reached deeper, squeezing a second finger in alongside the first. Dave lay motionless, his loud breathing his only reaction until he shook abruptly for a moment, face taking on a smile. John's second finger suddenly slid in freely, the physical opening bending to allow the action.

As John pressed his fingers, snug against the other but feeling progressively less crowded, inward, curling as Dave's reactions would permit, stroking to increasing dimension the interior of the cavity, observed Dave's reaction in the dim light of the bedroom: closed eyes, dim smiles of varying degree, the warmth and rapidity of Dave's breathing. This continued for some time: John watching Dave's face with an awed interest, Dave seeming temporarily disconnected from a conscious state, John's hand working deeper and more purposefully, Dave's body accepting the action.

Dave's brow creased as John removed his hand.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Dave replied in a deep whisper before opening his eyes and nodding, affirmative, at John.

"Okay, Just making sure," John pronounced as he raised himself above Dave, reaching for the drawer of the nightstand. "I think we're gonna need that lube now."

John coated his fingers in lubricant and returned his hand to Dave. Though the lubricant facilitated their entry, the space was as snug as it had been previously.

"Feel okay?" John asked, somewhat uncertain.

"Yeah. Fine. Really."

"Doesn't hurt or anything?"

Dave shook his head, his expression blank.

John lowered himself again to Dave and began to kiss him again, The action brought an immediate smile to Dave's face. Elsewhere, John spread apart his fingers, as much as the space would afford. Dave responded with a muffled noise and a surprised grin. John pulled back, taking in Dave's face.

"Still okay?"

"Uh-huh," Dave reassured, faint but committed.

"It's just that you're, like..."

"Tight?" Dave snickered.

"Yeah," John spoke, lowering his head, almost appearing to blush in the darkness. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yeah. I mean, if it doesn't work, it doesn't work, but let's give it a shot."

John's expression waxed devilish again as he reached for a condom packet, tore it open, and rolled the condom onto his rigid penis, and slicking it with lubricant before reaching downward and applying more lube to Dave. John shook his head and became more serious again.

"What?"

"You're still, um, super-tight."

"I've never done this before. I've never had anything, uh, there before. I'm relaxed. If you're thinking I'm nervous or something, I'm not." Dave paused before addressing John's eyes. "I trust you."

John nodded, a hinted smile on his face, and raised himself onto his knees between Dave's legs, pushing them towards Dave's chest, holding them under the knees.

Dave reclined onto the pillow. He could feel John's firm erection sliding against his hairy, pronounced perineum, then the head jab bluntly at his anus. Dave's mouth was agape, exhaling, expectant; he could feel the pressure, sweet but maddening, build as John leaned forward, pushed, pulled back, and repeated the motion, pressing more firmly the second time.

"Geeze, John, I want that in me."

"I wanna go slow. I don't wanna push too hard."

"You're makin' me crazy here. Dude, I think I'm ready for you."

John nodded, and an expression of concentration overcame his face. He pressed himself to Dave, slowly but solidly. Nothing was moving though the pressure was apparent, progressively stronger by the moment.

Dave huffed loudly. "Dude, that's driving me nuts. I can...just...imagine how it's gonna feel when you get it in me."

"Dave, I'm trying, but I don't wanna force anything."

John was still for a moment, his breathing apparent, still holding pressure against Dave. John thrust himself forward once, then a second time, measured, stronger, and the fissure gave, the pressure had achieved a critical mass. John gasped as he watched his cock disappear into Dave, pushed by the accumulated pressure behind it.

He raised his gazed to Dave's face. Dave's brow was creased and his mouth was slightly twisted in an expression which John could only assume was pain.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry," John carefully backed himself from Dave. "I never meant for it to go in so fast like that, it's just, everything happened at once."

Dave's eyes bulged as he shook his head for a second.

"I hurt you."

"It stung a little. Definitely more than a little."

"I'm sorry," John raised his hand to the side of Dave's head, rolling his fingers in Dave's hair and caressing Dave's cheek.

"No, it's okay," Dave replied, sounding undisturbed. "I asked for it."

John leaned forward , taking Dave's face in both of his hands, and kissing him on the forehead.

"I still want it," Dave's eyes burning into John's. "It goes in easier the second time, right?"

John swallowed and stood again to his knees, again pushing Dave's legs back. True to Dave's words (and Dave was speaking partially from the experience of being on the giving side of the act), the entry and dilation were smoother though no less profound: paralyzing without pain this time.

Dave's eyes widened, an awestruck expression, mouth opened, as his gazed locked into John's.

"You okay." John muttered, intently watching Dave's expression.

"Yeah," Dave breathed, increasing his volume upon, "Fuck yeah!"

John and Dave both smiled simultaneously and John leaned forward, taking Dave's face into his hands again, kissing his mouth and his cheeks as he moved his hips smoothly, in and out of Dave.

"This feels really intense," Dave whispered, gritty, over John's shoulder.

John gasped his reply. "Feels incredible to be in you. I don't know how long I'm gonna last though. It's been ages since I've done this, and I usually don't last long anyway."

"I don't care. This feels amazing."

A quick smile followed before their mouths met again. John's moves developed faster and deeper into Dave, the wordless signals John received taken as an invitation to increase his movements.

Settling into the bliss of the action, Dave was absorbing the sensations, reacting visibly, sometimes audibly, to John's rhythm, increasing in both tempo and amplitude. John progressively rose, lifting himself from Dave and pushing Dave's legs back further, lost in the action but still astounded at the flexibility of Dave's body despite its muscled state. This posture was held for some time before John slowed as he reached an intensity of movement.

"I'm gonna go, like, any second."

"Go ahead, I wanna watch you when you cum," Dave breathed, taken, nearly mesmerized with the sight of John moving rhythmically above him, into him.

Dave reached upward to John's hair-covered chest, running his hands through the fur, gripping the pectoral muscles, and almost involuntarily tugging at one of John's nipples. This sent John over the edge.

John let out a breathy squeal as he rose to his knees, holding Dave's calves firmly as he thrust, erratic and deep. His gaze descended, taking in Dave's face to find their eyes locking again: Dave's expression was one of fierce wonder, awe.

John lowered himself to Dave and their lips met instinctively. John could feel against his belly the moist film of pre-ejaculate which had seeped from Dave's penis while John was fucking him; John could also feel that Dave's erection was alarmingly firm. Their kissing was quiet and tactile, John's hands caressing Dave's cheeks and ears; Dave's arms loosely around John's torso.

"I wanna get you off," John whispered.

"Please. It almost hurts. I was gonna start jerking it myself."

"No," John breathed, barely intelligible, "I wanna swallow you."

Dave felt John's hot breath as he descended the length of Dave's torso. When he felt John's mouth surround his penis, the sensation was seamless to the rest of the action.

John took as much of Dave's erection as he could into his mouth. He rolled Dave's fuzzy testicles in his hand, sometimes reaching deeper to massage his perineum and the wet, freshly-penetrated area beyond before returning his hand to Dave's scrotum. John felt Dave's hands on his head and neck, firmly holding him to this position as Dave's pelvis awoke into action, smooth but determined thrusts into John's mouth.

"I'm not gonna last long either at this point," Dave grumbled, throaty. His rhythm retained its speed as he drove deeper into John's throat, lips now leaking saliva unchecked and sloppy.

Pushed to his limit, John fought the urge to cough as tears welled in his eyes, the thick, short hair at the root of Dave's cock tickling John's lips and intensifying the choking reflex. Dave's grip on John's head and neck became more pronounced, rhythmically pressing John's gaping jaws upon his penis, as Dave's thrusts became more determined and mechanical. John, nearly unable to breathe but lost in the moment, felt Dave's softly-bristled scrotum tighten in his hand as the intrusion in the back of his throat swelled, blocking John's air passage definitively. Dave croaked a coarse gasp.

John felt a repeated spray of warm fluid in his throat and the flood of backwash into his mouth as Dave's thrusts slowed and his hold on John's head, strong as before, had ceased to force movement, holding it stationary to receive his final, erratic penetrations.

As the strength of Dave's hold on John's head subsided, John quickly removed his mouth from Dave's shaft, gasping loud and face visibly flushed even in the darkened room. Dave's hips jerked, a reaction, the intense post-ejaculation sensitivity almost torturous.

John rose to his knees, breathing beginning to stabilize, stripped the condom from his penis, and reached for a towel; before John achieved that destination, Dave caught him, pulling him roughly downward and joining his mouth in an intense kiss. The action upon connection was mutual, and their breathing was mutually loud.

John's wet lips parted, compliant; Dave tasted the remainder of the mark he'd left upon John's mouth. The sensation was at once arousing and a reminder that the act had ended, a mutually agreeable, delirious, addictive coda.

When they parted, pulled back to take in the other's face, stared, nearly gawked, awed, for a moment, before breaking into mischievous smirks and quiet laughter. John retrieved his towel and swabbed himself and Dave with it briefly before flopping down beside Dave, resting his head on Dave's shoulder as Dave's arm curled around him, pulling him close.

"That was amazing," Dave began, his breathing still loud and conspicuous between words. "Sorry if I got a little rough with you there."

"Oh c'mon," John's face affected grinning discontent. "Please. You just let me fuck you."

"And that was so fucking intense."

"You skullfucking me was pretty damned intense," John countered.

Dave snickered. "Glad you didn't feel like I was forcing it on you."

"Oh, it definitely felt like you were forcing it on me."

"Oh, man, I'm sorry, I..."

"Don't be sorry," John smiled, devilish. "I fucking loved it."

Dave laughed again, relieved, turning his head to kiss John's forehead.

"Hello?"

Dave heard the distinctive, sprightly greeting answer the phone on the third ring.

"Hello. Kurt?"

"Yes?"

"It's Dave Karofsky."

"David! Hello!" The voice on the other side of the phone call lost its tentative uncertainty and became audibly warm. "How are you?"

"Uh, I'm doing well. I received your email on Friday, and, since you were kind enough to leave me with your number, I took the invitation to give you a call. I'm not intruding, am I?"

"Oh, not at all, David! I was just cleaning up after dinner. Adam is at a rehearsal, so I'm here at our place by myself. They were supposed to get in some designer samples of the fall line at the magazine office where I work. I was going to have a look at them tonight, but they didn't arrive yet so I was just looking forward to an evening of studying and channel-surfing, both of which can wait. What about you? It's, what, about four-thirty in the afternoon in your time-zone?"

"Yeah, exactly. Actually, my dad is visiting from Ohio this week. He's back at his hotel room changing clothes, and maybe catching a short nap before we get together for dinner tonight."

"Oh, how nice! And what a coincidence: you were visiting your father in Ohio when you and I ran into each other a few months ago, and now he's visiting you in Portland."

"Yeah, it's pretty cool. We're having a great time, and I think he's really liking it so far."

"David, I really want to apologize for the way I acted when we talked at Scandals."

"Kurt, nothing to apologize for."

"No, David, really. Hear me out."

"Okay."

"When we were friends and hanging out the summer after high school ended, the summer before we both left Ohio, I was kind of awful to you sometimes."

"No you weren't," Dave dismissed.

"I was," Kurt corrected. "I knew that you were kind-of lost and I knew that you felt that I had some kind of social advantage over you so I intentionally exploited that. Maybe I did it out of revenge or something because of the way you treated me at McKinley, but I really could have, no I should have, been better in that regard."

"Water under the bridge, Kurt. I hold nothing against you. I wasn't aware of it, and truth told, I had it coming because of all that crap at McKinley."

"That's not really what I was getting at, although I regret that also in retrospect."

"What do you mean then?"

"See, David, I knew that, when we were just out of high school, you looked up to me."

"I did. I respected you. I still do."

"And I tried to pull rank on you when we were talking at Scandals, tried to make you feel like I was somehow better than you are. That was really not right of me, not at this point."

"Kurt, you were away from home and out having a good time, and you'd had a couple of drinks. If I held that kinda behavior against people, I'd be mad at half of my friends most of the time."

"That doesn't make it right."

"Well, then, apology accepted."

"Thank you."

"But there was still no need to apologize."

"Maybe to you, but it's kind of you to humor me."

Dave laughed and shook his head, about to speak but Kurt began again before he could.

"And again, I want to thank you for your behavior that night. You did the right thing in the face of my behavior that was simply not becoming."

"It's okay Kurt. You're welcome. I have the same respect for you as I always did. Just chalk it up to a weird night. Did you mention it to Adam?"

"Oh, no! I couldn't do that! I mean, nothing happened and there wouldn't have been a point in mentioning it to him. It would have maybe hurt him or made him unnecessarily concerned over my unthinking behavior. I hope I didn't give you the impression that I'm like that. Really, I've never done anything like that. I'd be too afraid of word getting back to Adam."

Kurt's voice was almost frantic, counter to Dave's calmer tone.

"Well, you were away from home..."

"Yes, and that had me thinking kind-of stupidly," Kurt interjected. "Truth told, you looked great and you seemed so at-ease and confident. And, yes, I found you really attractive, and given a different set of circumstances, maybe I could have gone through with spending the night with you, but I would have felt terrible about it the next day."

"Well, nothing happened, so it's nothing to worry about."

"I mean, if I get to that point again, I will discuss it with Adam. I mean about being in an open relationship, and if he's not okay with it, it ends there."

"Um, Kurt, I kinda called for a reason. There's kinda something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh, my god, I'm sorry. Here I am prattling on and on, and you're probably pressed for time."

Dave laughed at Kurt's shift in tone.

"Nah, Dad and I had a late lunch, so dinner will be late also. I'm not on any schedule at the moment."

"Well, that's comforting. What did you want to talk about?"

"When we were talking at Scandals a few months back, you'd asked me if I'd been seeing anyone, and I probably told you that I wasn't."

"Yes, that's how I remember it."

"Well, since then, I have a new roommate, and that's all he was supposed to be when he moved in, a friend and a roommate; but since then, we've started having sex fairly regularly."

Kurt emitted a high-pitched witch-like cackle, almost painful to Dave's ear over the phone.

"Oh, listen to the big stud! That's delicious! He must be a lucky boy!"

"Uh, Kurt, please don't be make fun outta this," Dave spoke through a quieter laugh of his own, "I called actually to get your input on something."

"I'm sorry," Kurt spoke, sounding sincere after making a snapping noise with his tongue. "That was rude of me to make light of your accidentally getting laid. With regularity. Is this a friends-with-benefits arrangement?"

"Um, you still sound like you're not taking this as seriously as I am."

"Okay, I'll stop with the silliness."

"Thank you," Dave said, exhaling loudly before explaining.

"Here's the thing, see, I have feelings for the guy. I guess I always kinda liked him, but we started out pretty bad. At this point, I don't know what kind of feelings I'm having for him, and maybe I'm afraid to talk to him about it because he was kinda neurotic early-on."

"Neurotic how?"

"Um, remember when we were talking at Scandals, and I told you that I felt like I didn't need to be married-off just yet, me being only twenty-one?"

"Yes! I remember that! And I told you that this was the part of our lives when we should be having fun!"

"Yeah! That's it exactly. I still kinda feel that way, but then I'm feeling pretty close to him, and it seems to be getting pretty strong. I don't know if I feel for him the same way I do about my best straight friends, with the addition of sex, of course, or if I feel like I'm seriously into the guy. I mean, you've been in relationships longer than the two-week things I've been in, and this didn't start out anything like a conventional relationship."

"Ooh, boy."

"What?"

"I've had two boyfriends. My current one, Adam, and Blaine from back in high school. I'd have sworn up-and-down that I was in love with Blaine, but when I look back on it now, I'm not so sure. One thing is certain, though, it didn't feel anything like what I feel right now with Adam."

"And you're in love with Adam, right?"

"Ooh, boy,"

"What?"

"I guess I'm not sure about that. I mean, Blaine was kind-of suffocating at times: caring and attentive on the surface, but never really affectionate, functionally totally sexless when you get right down to it. The one time we had what I'd call real sex was when I was living in New York but visiting Ohio for a wedding that didn't happen anyway; and I kinda had to force myself on Blaine. By that time, I wasn't even fooling myself that I was in love with him, and I was seeing Adam here in New York, but it was just at the start of it, and I was far from committed at the time. And Adam is wonderful, and a great friend."

"Wow. Like, I don't know how to react to that. But I don't want to be rude."

"Yeah, I know. I'm fucked-up."

"But you do love Adam, right? I mean you said you did, right?"

"I don't believe I've ever told anyone that I'm in love with Adam. I mean, I functionally love the man. How can I not? He's such a perfect boyfriend."

"Well, then, you do love him?"

"David, I don't know how I feel," Kurt's voice snapped.

"I'm sorry, Kurt. It sounds like I made you mad."

Kurt huffed, loud, into the phone.

"It's just frustrating," Kurt's tone softened. "Listen, if you called me to find out what it feels like to be in love, I don't know. I know what a suffocating schoolboy crush feels like, and I know what it feels like to be treated like a prince by a wonderful gentleman who thinks the world of me. Real love? I'm not sure what that feels like."

"You're not sure it exists? Or you're not sure you've ever felt it?"

"Maybe I'm not sure that I'm capable of feeling it. Duty to a partner is something I can do out of loyalty or ethics or something. Love I don't think is so easily defined by a users' manual."

"Wow."

"David, if you're falling in love, that's great," Kurt's voice became smooth, almost melodic. "I'm sure that sounded patronizing, but I didn't mean it that way. If you're in love, I'm envious. And the man you're in love with is incredibly lucky."

"Why do you say that?" Dave sounded perplexed. "I don't even know what I'm feeling."

"David, you have an emotional core to you that is beautiful, and you're incredibly creative."

"Me? Creative?"

"Yes. Definitely."

"You're the creative guy. You're the one who sings and dances and is into fashion and stuff."

"David, I sing and dance to things other people have composed. I'm like a trained poodle. Fashion is really just a self-proclaimed cultured-person's version of bullying. You, on the other hand, dressed up as a gorilla for a week and gave someone wonderfully sweet gifts because you thought you had feelings for them. I'm going to hazzard a guess that you didn't get that gorilla-costume idea out of some self-help book. You came up with it yourself, right?"

"Yeah, but..."

"It was amazing. If you're in love with someone, that guy is going to be cared for in a phenomenal way. He probably already is."

"Thanks. I mean, I never thought of it that way."

The conversation was silent for an unusually long moment before Dave spoke again.

"Kurt? You still there?"

"Yes," the answer was weak, quivering.

"You okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." The words were accompanied by a faint sniffling sound.

"You crying?"

"Nah, well, maybe just a little."

"How come?"

"It's nothing."

"Okay, well, um, sorry if I called and bummed you out or something."

"No, David. I'm sorry because you called me, a person whom you thought could give you some sage advice, and I let you down by having no answers to your questions. Not even remotely."

"Well, I feel bad if something I said made you cry. I won't call you again if it's gonna be a problem. I really didn't think that this conversation would..."

"No!" Kurt snapped again. "I made me cry."

"Is there something I can do? Fuck," Dave hissed the word in exasperation.

"What?"

"I dunno. I called kinda wanting to talk about something, not thinking it could go this way. I'm really sorry."

"Don't be," Kurt's voice was calm if marked by a slight roughness. "You made me realize something."

"What's that?"

"I might not know what it feels like to be in love. I might not ever know that feeling, and I'm not sure I care at this point. But the memory of that boy behind the gorilla mask? Maybe I might have known if I gave him a chance three-and-a-half years ago. Just a thought."

Dave was silent until Kurt spoke again.

"Hey. Everything logical says we would have been all wrong for each other."

"Yeah. I agree."

"It was a nice thought, like a fairytale romance."

"Yeah."

"I guess it should stay in the world of pure fantasy."

"Uh-huh."

"Well, David, I should probably let you go. I just filled your head full of all kinds of crazy things. I think I'm kind-of a mess on that level. I should stick with singing and dancing and the shallow frivolities of fashion, and leave the realm of romance to people who are capable of experiencing it. I'm ruined on that level, I think."

"I don't think so. I mean, Adam obviously loves you. If he can see you for who you are, the real you, and find something there to love, I think maybe you can find it in yourself to return that love. Or maybe I'm just a foolish idealist and the world doesn't work that way."

"Or maybe there's something to that," Kurt spoke, sounding almost as if he were smiling. "Maybe I should try it. Thank you for calling, David."

"Thank you for talking."

"Sorry if I didn't have any answers for you."

"It's okay. I mean, I kind-of expected you to have something to say on the subject, and, well, you did."

"I certainly did," Kurt laughed, small and polite. "I hope you're not afraid to call again sometime."

"You should feel free to do the same. Next time I have any big news, I'll call, or email at the very least. You'll do the same. Deal?"

"Deal."

Referenced music:

"The Way You Look Tonight" (written by Dorothy Fields and Jerome Kern, envisioned in an uptempo, swing arrangement for its use here)