The Storm: Redemption
Chapter Five
By Gayforkurt
Summary: Famous countertenor Kurt Hummel and billionaire entrepreneur Dave Karofsky must come to terms with the past but bitter feelings make a future for these two headstrong men highly unlikely. This fic is rated M.
A/N: Keep those reviews coming, folks, they only make me want to write faster!
Disclaimer: Messrs. Ryan, Falchuk, et al are the owners of my favorite boys. Only the OCs belong to me, alas.
KHDK
If someone had told Noah Puckerman that he would be having brunch with the famous diva Kurt Hummel in London and enjoying it, he'd have maimed that person using one of any number of harmless household items lying around.
Yet here he was, sat in one of London's most prestigious restaurants, chowing down on a hearty lentil and root vegetable stew. He'd moved on, at Kurt's urging, to try the most succulent slices of roast rump of lamb smothered in premium mustard sauce that he'd ever tasted. Over the years he had been with Dave, he'd had his fair share of haute cuisine but this brunch was turning out to be fantastic and, to be honest, it wasn't all about the delicious food.
He had watched Kurt nibbling his delicate way through an assortment of dishes like a roasted vegetable ragout and tender chicken breast simmered in a creamy champagne sauce with crumbled feta cheese. Now the singer was almost making love to his dessert, a dark chocolate twist tiramisu while Puck tried heroically to control his libido.
Puck's own dessert, a sweet whole fruit crumble topped with clotted cream, sat almost untouched. He'd taken a single bite of the crumble and nearly choked when he'd looked up to see Kurt sliding his fork from between pursed, gleaming pink lips, obviously enjoying his first bite of the espresso-infused Italian cake.
If he wasn't careful, Puck chided himself, he'd develop an unhealthy obsession with watching Kurt eat. Good god, that boy could raise his blood pressure without really trying; Puck tried to turn his concentration back to finishing his own neglected dessert but he couldn't drown out the sounds of Kurt happily demolishing his chocolaty treat.
"Mmmm, god, this is so good; you have to try this. Here," and a fork was pushed towards Puck's face. Puck shook his head, pointing at his own dessert. Kurt pouted as he pulled back the fork. "Why not?"
Puck swallowed his bite and then took a sip of water. "No, thanks, princess, I think the flavors would clash, seriously." He watched as Kurt pondered this; the singer then shrugged and put the bite of cake into his own mouth, humming in pleasure as he swallowed.
Puck gritted his teeth and glanced out at the view of London afforded them by their bird's eye view position. He'd heard about this restaurant the first time he'd come to England with Dave for a conference, but he hadn't thought he'd have enjoyed eating while so high up. The 360-degree view was really something else, and the food was some of the best he had ever had while in this country. He turned back to Kurt, glad to see the singer had finished cleaning his plate of the decadent – and distracting – dessert.
"I like it here, it's pretty cool." He watched Kurt smile even while he was sipping his water. "I guess you eat out a lot, huh?"
Kurt nodded while wiping his lips with his snowy linen napkin. He'd had a very pleasant brunch with Noah and though they hadn't touched on that other subject, they'd covered various bits about their travels and interesting things they'd seen or eaten. Now he felt as if he could actually move the conversation into deeper waters without drowning.
"Yes, I hate cooking for one and with the late nights because of the theatre, it's so much easier to eat out. There are lots of different types of places to eat, obviously; they don't call this town a melting pot for no reason." They shared a grin and then a little silence fell between them.
Kurt cleared his throat and then decided to just launch into the topic he was sure was on both their minds. Before he could say anything, however, Puck leaned forward and covered one slender hand with his.
"Look, before you say anything, I want to apologize again for last night." He watched Kurt do that little head-tilt thing that Puck thought was really cute. "I know you didn't mean anything – after I told you about the boss being sick. I just – I get kinda, uhm – boy, this is hard!" He let go of Kurt's hand and took another sip of water while staring out at the sky beyond their floor-to-ceiling window.
Kurt watched the other man struggle to find the right words. He thought he knew where this was going but decided to just sit quietly and allow Noah to compose whatever it was he wanted to get out.
"Alright, let me start from the top." He shot a quick glance at Kurt but the singer just looked at him, a patient expression on his fair face. "You already know how the boss feels about you. Well, until I met you, I couldn't understand why." He raised a quick hand to forestall any interruption Kurt was tempted to make in his defense.
"Yeah, yeah, I know you're hot, princess, you don't have to sell me on that," he smirked as he watched faint color wash Kurt's high cheekbones and the singer dropped his eyes to the gleaming white tablecloth. "It's just that, finally meeting you, I can kinda see what all the song and dance is about."
He laughed out loud at Kurt's outraged little gasp. He shook his head as he waited for him to calm down so he could continue with his little speech.
"I find myself liking you, Kurt, apart from totally wanting to bone you, that is, but I know you're not into me like that." Puck had to hold back the loud guffaw that was just dying to come out as he watched Kurt turn a deeper shade of pink as he tried to absorb Puck's words. Really, this dude was never boring and Puck had to admit that he was glad he'd met him, though things would never go the way he wished.
He listened to Kurt splutter for a bit and then put him out of his misery. "So, since I'm really sorry for my hand in what happened a while ago," he winced at the totally lame way he'd just said that, "I'm gonna put myself at your disposal and you can do or ask anything you want – short of asking me to kill myself, that is."
Kurt couldn't help bursting out into giggles at that last bit. He chuckled until he had to wipe the tears from the corner of his eyes. Noah was being surprisingly sweet and for the first time in a long time, Kurt felt as if he was coming out from under a cloud. He giggled again as he pictured himself like a slump-shouldered kid in a cartoon with a thundercloud over his head. He finally calmed himself as he drank some more water, and smiled at the grinning man across from him.
"I don't know what to say, but thank you for that insane offer." He hiked an eyebrow at Noah's puzzled expression. "'Insane' because you have no idea what a diva is capable of asking for." And he was off again, giggling while shaking his head at the other man. Puck joined him, laughing softly while admiring the way the sunlight caressed Kurt's face; a twinge of regret tried to dampen his amusement but he refused to let it. Kurt wasn't for him and he decided then that he would do whatever it took to get the two men together, even if it was to just talk.
KHDK
The afternoon had turned just a little cooler when Kurt and Puck eventually stepped out of the high-rise building in which they'd just enjoyed a sumptuous brunch. The two men were talking and laughing, teasing each other and mucking about and totally oblivious to the attention of the people around them.
Kurt was a minor celebrity and Puck was a tall, hot, muscular guy who was looking at Kurt as if he had never seen anything hotter. In a town known for its voracious paparazzi and tabloids that knew no bounds when it came to privacy, it was not unexpected that members of the fourth estate would be hanging around a popular eating place known to be frequented by the rich and famous.
Just as two other patrons came through the doors, Puck put his arm around Kurt to move him out of their way. How cliché is it that just then, two photographers standing across the street should take the shot that was presented to them like a gift from heaven? The two paparazzi grinned to themselves, congratulating each other on being the first to catch what seemed to be a hookup between the famous diva and a new lover.
Kurt and Puck, oblivious to the two vultures snapping away across the street, paused as they made plans for Puck to call later so they could make firm arrangements to meet on the weekend. Puck had told him he had a surprise for him and even though Kurt teased and cajoled quite prettily, Puck was adamant about revealing where they would be going.
Puck thought that maybe he'd pick Kurt up on the Saturday morning and they'd make a day of it, head out of the city into the countryside and wherever they got to by lunch time, there they'd stop and eat. He wanted to make the most of his little break and he had a feeling Kurt didn't often give himself time to just rest and recharge on the weekends.
So, after exchanging their cell phone numbers, all of this being caught by their watchers, Puck leaned in and pecked Kurt's smooth cheek, laughing again at the quick color that washed it. Kurt slapped him on the arm playfully and then they separated, each heading towards their own car.
Kurt was grinning to himself as he got into the vehicle, feeling pleasantly full and at ease, for once, in his mind. He was quite looking forward to just hanging out with Noah (who'd begged him to call him Puck – "only my mom and nana call me Noah") but Kurt had explained about the opera he was currently starring in. Shakespeare's 'Puck' was way too much like Kurt's new admirer and he'd giggled himself into a coughing fit at the affronted look on Noah's face when he'd explained that.
He sobered as he thought about the fact that they had skirted the subject of Noah's boss. Kurt was quite honestly at a loss to understand the emotions that swirled within him every time he thought about David Karofsky. His emotional meltdown the previous night had been cathartic; nevertheless, the ambivalence of his feelings still unsettled him.
As he made his way to the theatre to go over some last-minute adjustments to his costumes and warm up for the night's performance, he reminded himself to talk to his favorite confidante, his agent William Schuester. Will had put up with Kurt's antics over the years and had never berated him; on the contrary, he had willingly provided a shoulder for Kurt to cry on on more than one occasion. They were more than just agent and client and they often met at Will's cozy little house just outside of London.
Though Will was American, he'd fallen in love with England the first time he had come over to watch Kurt perform. He had decided then and there to open a branch of his successful agency in London. His other branches in the US were overseen by trusted associates, one being his own wife, Terry. Kurt personally didn't think he could be happy in a long-distance marriage but the two had been together from high school so there must be a lot of trust there, he thought.
Kurt pressed Will's speed dial digit and waited for the man to pick up. He loved how high-tech his car was but he didn't like voice-activated electronics; no privacy, he often ranted to whoever questioned him about that quirk. Will's voice rang out into the car and Kurt told him to prepare to see him the next day.
As the two chatted, Will commented that Kurt sounded a lot more upbeat than he had been recently. Kurt assured him that when they met, he'd fill Will in on everything that had taken place over the last couple of months and then ended the call. He pulled into the underground garage attached to the opera house and waved to the parking attendant as he headed up.
There was such an obvious difference in his demeanor that everyone who passed him smiled involuntarily as they took in his sunny face and huge grin. If there were also several sighs of relief, no one was admitting it; a happy Kurt meant the only drama would be on the stage tonight.
Calling out to the wardrobe mistress, Kurt practically bounced into his dressing room, startling his assistant and laughing out loud at the woman's wide eyes and confused expression. They got on with the necessary task of adjusting some of his costumes while Kurt hummed a few of the more complicated pieces he'd have to do later.
When his cell phone chirped he grabbed it, thumbing it to bring up the message from Puck.
FROM PUCK: 10 A.M. - SAT. DRESS NICE BUT CASUAL. SEE YA, SEXY!
Kurt grinned to himself, ignoring the way the wardrobe mistress and her assistants eyed him inquisitively. He knew that in no time the scuttlebutt would be making the rounds; the diva has an admirer, or some such crap. He was so used to being talked about after all the years in the spotlight that it hardly bothered him anymore. What was likely to make him blow his stack were the intrusively personal questions that relative strangers would fire at him, whether in media interviews or even at social gatherings. Kurt always felt like telling them to shove it but he knew a public figure, a minor celeb, had to take all that crap in his stride and grin and bear it.
FROM KURT: I'LL BE ON TIME – AND I ALWAYS DRESS 'NICE'.
He closed his phone and returned his attention to the ladies, all the while grumbling about uncomfortable and overly revealing costumes. The hours passed, his performance came and went and Kurt finally made it home again to his comfy flat.
Once again, as his body and mind relaxed, his thoughts turned to David Karofsky. What was different this time was that there wasn't that lurking animosity associated with the man's name that always set Kurt on edge. The incident the night before with Noah – even just being able to tell the other man what had happened on the island and how he'd felt – seemed to have cleared the vitriol that had been poisoning Kurt.
I guess it's true about holding on to things, he thought; at that rate I would have soon developed a bloody ulcer! Kurt poured himself a small sherry and sprawled on his couch, listening to the sounds of the other occupants in the building and the traffic outside.
He planned on regaling Will with his drama when he saw him the next day and he hoped it wouldn't be too much for the other man. Kurt used to confide some of the things he went through to his best girlfriend, Mercedes, but after high school, as so often happens, they'd slowly drifted apart, their lives going in very different directions. Now, here in London with this company, Kurt wasn't very close with many of the other performers so something like what he was going through wouldn't be the kind of things he could talk about.
He finally finished his drink, fixed himself a snack and then prepared himself for bed. He would be meeting Will at his house the next day for breakfast and he wanted a full eight hours of sleep so he would look really good for his agent. The man tended to worry at the first sign of weariness on Kurt's face and would mother-hen him to death if he felt Kurt wasn't eating right or sleeping properly.
Kurt smiled to himself, thinking fondly of the man who'd become his surrogate dad. He was happy the older man had never had a problem with him being gay and he'd even gone so far as to try and set Kurt up with blind dates which, as usual, very often turned out to be quite boring.
As he settled himself into his sprawling bed, one of the first extravagances he'd bought for his flat when he'd moved in, he wondered what Will would think of the whole drama that Kurt had been through and what he'd make of Noah and David Karofsky. Especially David, Kurt's sleepy mind murmured. He yawned and snuggled down, his gritty eyes closing. Yes, David…
TBC
A/N: I hope I'm not going too slowly for you guys, but I feel Kurt can't do a sudden 180 when it comes to his feelings about David. Let me know if it's dragging for you folks, okay? Reviews get my motor revving, so keep 'em coming!