Title – Mine for the Weekend
Fandom – Glee
Author – LizzyPoodle
Rating –Maybe it will become M in future chapters, but it's T for now!
Characters – Kurt Hummel and David Karofsky
Disclaimer – I don't own these characters.
Summary – There are consequences when a bet is made between Kurt and Dave.
Warnings – This is fairly AU…but I'd love to see it play out on my television screen!
A/N – Your response to this story has brightened my entire week! I cannot believe how supportive you are in your reviews and alerts and reblogs…you are amazing people, and I hope that you will continue to enjoy this story!
Mine For the Weekend – chapter 3
After 2 slices of pie had been consumed, mostly by Kurt, but partially by Dave (Kurt hadn't said a word about sharing a fork…he'd been too fascinated by the experience to worry about germs) the boys cleaned up the kitchen.
"What's next?" Kurt asked, rubbing his stomach. He was feeling pleasantly full, and sort of sleepy.
"Let's put your bag in the guest room. You brought something nice to wear tonight?"
"You told me to, so I did. I brought a suit. Is that okay? It's still in the car." Kurt yawned.
"A suit will be perfect for what we'll be doing."
"Where are we going, anyway?" Kurt wondered. So far losing the bet had been pretty fun.
"You'll see when we get there. You keep yawning. How about a nap?" Dave suggested, setting Kurt's duffel down on the luggage rack in the guest room.
"I'll be fine. It's just all those carbs from the pie," Kurt said, trying to insist on his wakefulness, but failing when he yawned. Again.
"Lie down, Kurt. I don't want you falling asleep tonight."
"I'm fine, I told you."
They glared at one another until Dave said, "I thought that you were going to do whatever I tell you to do."
Kurt's breath hitched. "I don't want to lie down."
More glaring.
Then Kurt added, "Plus, I thought that I was allowed to say 'No', if I was uncomfortable doing something. Why is it so important to you that I lie down, huh?" Kurt could hear the panic in his tone, but he didn't care. The fear that lay just beneath the surface woke with a vengeance and twisted its way quickly into anger. Bitter words fell from his lips. "What? Are there ropes attached to the headboard, or something? What are you trying to get away with, anyway, David? Why are you so insistent that I lie down? What's going on?"
Dave's eyes widened as Kurt strode toward the head of the bed to check for those bindings that he obviously feared were there, and Dave felt himself deflate like a popped balloon. What had he been expecting? Of course Kurt would think the worst of him. Just because they'd begun a tentative friendship, that didn't mean that the past had been erased from Kurt's memory. Of course Kurt didn't trust him. Why would he?
Dave tried not to let the hurt show on his face, but he couldn't imagine that he was doing a very good job of it. There was only one way that he could think of to make this better. End it. End this, and send Kurt home.
Kurt continued to glare at Dave, daring him to say something.
Finally Dave spoke. "You're done. You've fulfilled your end of the deal. You can go. I'm…sorry that I pushed you into this." He inhaled, he exhaled, and he left the room, looking down at the carpet as he left.
Kurt watched him leave and stood, rooted to the spot, thrown off by what had just occurred. His brain focused on one thing: trying to make sense of what had just happened. Wait a minute. He was free to go? Why? He didn't understand. Despite what David had said, he knew that he hadn't fulfilled his end of the bargain. Why would Dave just let him leave? It made no sense, and confusion wormed its way through him.
He took a deep breath and tried to sort out what he was feeling. Rather than relief, what he felt was…incomplete. He'd been serious when he'd told Dave that Hummels don't bail on bets, and he didn't feel comfortable ending things the way that they were.
He thought of Dave's face while Kurt had been interrogating him about why he wanted Kurt to lie down.
Broken. Dave had looked hurt and broken. Kurt hadn't imagined that winning his freedom, and getting out of this bet, would be accompanied by a huge slice of discomfort. Did he honestly feel badly about maybe, perhaps hurting Dave's feelings?
Not knowing what else to do with himself, he sat. He wondered if Dave would return, but after a couple of minutes of waiting, it became clear that he wouldn't. Kurt took a glance at his surroundings. There were no bindings that he could see anywhere. It was just a guest room. David wasn't trying to do anything bad to him.
The room was quite lovely, really. It was painted a muted gray, and it had the feel of a modern hotel. The curtains were airy, the furnishings were comfortable, but fresh, and to the left Kurt could see that there was even an attached bathroom. He headed toward it and noticed the fluffy ivory towels hanging on the bar as well as a scented hand soap he'd never tried. It wasn't a huge bathroom, but it was nice.
He left the bathroom and stood, looking at the bed. He could go. David had said that he'd fulfilled the terms of the bet. It wasn't as if he owed Dave anything.
He wondered why he felt as though he did.
Leaving his duffel bag where it was sitting, he headed out of the room to locate David. He followed the sounds of the television, and headed over to the family room, at which point he stood in the doorway, waiting for David to look at him, which he finally did, briefly.
"All packed? Where's your bag?" Dave tried to keep his tone light, despite the lump in his throat. He couldn't face Kurt. He hated how scared of him Kurt was. He must be some kind of idiot, ever thinking that this was a good idea. Maybe once Kurt left, he'd see that Dave hadn't been planning on hurting him. Maybe Dave could still salvage the budding friendship that they'd begun to share. They could just pretend that this whole thing had never happened.
Yeah, right. Or maybe Kurt would just rejoice once he escaped, and do everything that he could to stay as far away from him as possible. Dave began to wish that Kurt would just go, so that Dave could kick himself in peace.
Kurt walked over to, and stood in front of him. Dave paused the television.
"Why was it so important to you that I lie down?" Kurt cringed at the accusation that he still heard in his tone.
Dave looked defeated. "You seemed tired." He shrugged.
Kurt gave a noncommittal "Hmm," in response.
Dave just sat there, waiting for Kurt to leave, wondering what he was still doing there.
"Where were you going to take me tonight?" Kurt demanded. He really didn't know how he'd ever thought that he'd be able to go along with David's plan for a non-questioning, totally accepting Kurt Hummel weekend. Had David met Kurt? It's not that he was necessarily high-maintenance, but he certainly wasn't low-maintenance, either. He had opinions and questions, and he was not one to hold back when it came to expressing himself.
He looked at Dave. Really looked. Kurt studied his hunched-in shoulders, and noted his inability to look Kurt in the eye. Dave was the larger of the two of them, but right now Kurt felt like the one in control, and he came to the surprising realization that he wasn't ready to go home just yet. He had a debt to pay, and he was going to pay it. David wasn't going to hurt him; not anymore, not ever again. Kurt knew that, and he would do what he'd agreed to do.
He could stop being afraid.
It was a heady realization.
Kurt plopped down next to David, who whipped his head to look at Kurt so quickly that he felt a slight head rush.
"Well? Where are we going tonight?" Kurt asked, feeling, even as he asked the question, the complete absence of fear. It had vaporized, simply disappeared, mere moments prior. Kurt had never felt anything like it. Having nothing to fear tasted like freedom. Kurt noted the ease with which he could breathe. It felt different.
Dave, unaware of the fact that Kurt had gone through a bit of an emotional transformation, just wanted this all to end. He was through playing games. He was sorry that he'd ever started this whole pretending-that-Kurt-was-his-for-the-weekend, thing. He'd be honest and tell Kurt what he wanted to know, and then Kurt would leave, and Dave could lick his wounds in private.
"My parents have season tickets at the theater on Main. They had to go to a wedding this weekend, and they left the tickets for me to use with a friend."
"You were going to take me to the theater?" Kurt asked, surprise lacing through his words, eyebrows high up on his forehead.
"It's not like it's Broadway, but, yeah. I thought that you'd like it," Dave answered, looking down at the remote in his hands.
Kurt hadn't been expecting an evening at the theater. That sounded quite nice, really.
"What show were we going to see?"
"Does it matter?" Dave asked, hating it that he sounded whiny when he was trying to sound strong.
Kurt sensed David's discomfort, and knew that he'd been hurt by Kurt's attack. Kurt quietly insisted, "Just tell me. Please."
"You've probably already seen it anyway," and still he sounded like a petulant child.
"David," Kurt said, softly, reaching over to curl around his check, to turn David's face gently toward his own. "What show were you going to take me to see?" The corners of Kurt's lips barely lifted in a soft smile.
"The Phantom of the Opera," Dave breathed, lost in the rainbow of blues in Kurt's eyes.
"Oh!" Kurt exclaimed in a surprised rush. "I haven't actually seen that onstage."
Kurt let go of David's face and sat back into the cushions of the sofa, thinking. He had the CD, of course, but he'd never seen it live. His fingers flew to his mouth, and he absently chewed on his thumbnail.
Kurt didn't have to think too long, nor did he have to think hard. Some decisions in life were easy, and this was one of those times.
He yawned again. He hadn't slept well the previous night, and he really was rather tired.
He sat closer to David and dropped his head onto his shoulder. He un-paused the movie, and, satisfied with his decision, settled in to watch whatever this was.
Dave, not at all sure what was going on, said the first thing that came to mind.
"What are you doing?"
Kurt's answer was simple, "Staying."