The Storm: Redemption

Chapter Eight

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.

Disclaimer: Messrs. Ryan, Falchuk, et al are the owners of my favorite boys. Only the OCs belong to me, alas.

KHDK

"I want to take you to see the boss."

Kurt stared at Puck, frozen, wondering at the nature of serendipity; he'd been working up the courage the last couple of days to just come straight out and tell Noah he wanted to meet with David. Now he looked at the other man, a slight twinkle in his eyes as Noah stared back at him quizzically.

A burble of laughter escaped Kurt as he shook his head. "What, are you telepathic now or am I just so very predictable?" He took a final sip of his wine and then turned to Puck. "You don't have to wait for an answer."

Puck looked at the singer, the light dappling his skin as a soft breeze moved the leaves above them. His decision to use this picnic to soften Kurt up was a good one, he congratulated himself. He was always happy to spend time with a beautiful man, though this one wasn't a potential lover but, if he could also move his plan to help Dave along as well, everyone would win in the end.

Kurt continued, ignoring Puck's admiring gaze: "It can't be tomorrow; Sundays are matinees. We don't have a show on Monday so it will have to be then."

Puck nodded happily. "That's perfect; he'll have all of tomorrow to get ready to face you on Monday," he smirked, though his eyes remained a little more serious. "You know he feels real bad about everything, right?"

"Yes, Noah, I think I know that; it's just that, for me to move on, I need closure." Kurt picked at a little spot on the picnic blanket as he thought. "I need to be able to forgive him, and we have to be face-to-face for that to even begin to be a possibility."

They sat in companionable silence for a while before Puck declared they should probably head back into the city. Kurt helped him pack back the empty containers, wine bottles, glasses and utensils in the basket and then folded up the blanket and napkins. They made certain there was no trash left lying in their idyllic little spot and with contented smiles they climbed back into the little roadster to go home.

Kurt was really happy for the break from routine ("a change is as good as a rest" a really smart person had said long ago) and he allowed himself to be lulled further by the hum of the motorway and the soft music Noah had found on some easy listening station programmed into the car's stereo system.

Puck had earlier that morning uploaded Kurt's address in the car's sat-nav so he had no need to disturb the snoozing singer for directions. He was immensely pleased with himself at how relaxed Kurt was, lying almost boneless in the ergonomically-designed passenger seat of the horrendously expensive little car. Puck wasn't a religious man, though he was raised Jewish, but he prayed to the god he'd ignored for much of his adult life and asked that things would work out satisfactorily for the two men.

KHDK

Monday dawned clear though a little cool, the sunshine struggling through a slightly overcast sky. Kurt had slept in so 11 o'clock found him just rolling out of bed, hair sticking up in all directions and crease marks from his pillow striping his face.

The first part of his routine was to have a piping hot shower that would shock him awake but not piss him off – cold water did that – then the rest of his ablutions would follow like clockwork.

As he shaved carefully he pondered the outfit for the day, deciding on something elegant, casual and, of course, sexy. He would forgo his favorite color this time, opting for a bright color tones because the day wasn't very bright and he always liked a balance - and maybe he would add boots to the ensemble. He had bought a pair of cowboy style boots recently – ridiculously expensive but that was what money was for – and he'd been looking for an opportunity to debut them.

While his coffee was brewing he blew his hair dry, styling it with a little product and thanking his genes that there was no sign of male-pattern baldness so far. His father's penchant for wearing trucker hats would indicate a lingering discomfort with being tonsorially challenged, he grinned. Pleased with the result of his primping, he padded into the kitchen and sat on one of the counter stools to have his first cup of coffee and a croissant.

He thought back to Noah's phone call the day before, just before the Sunday matinee, and wondered how David had taken the news that Kurt wanted to meet up with him. He flipped through the morning papers, ignoring much of the so-called news, and turned to the Leisure section which he always read first.

He shook his head as once more there was a picture of him getting out of Noah's car, though the driver's face was obscured because of the angle the photo was shot. He stared at the relaxed look on his face, marveling that a day out in the country could make him look so sated. His usually perfect hair was slightly ruffled and so was his shirt beneath the waistcoat he'd worn with it. Noah had woken him up just as he pulled up to the curb and it had taken him a few seconds to surface and get his bearings. That accounted for the drowsy expression that one could mistake for something else.

He shrugged and moved on to reading the various comments and reviews of his show, not really caring about any publicity he garnered. He was grateful for his fans but he wasn't under any illusions that they would turn on him if he ever really set a foot wrong. Popularity was as uncertain as the stock market and he wouldn't be getting upset anytime soon over how often or not his face popped up in these rags.

Forty minutes later, having taken care of the few domestic things necessary to keep his flat livable, he decided to start getting dressed. Noah said he would be picking him up around 1 o'clock after informing him that Dave's home was in one of London's ritzier suburbs. Of course, thought Kurt; one would expect that of a billionaire, right?

He didn't say that to Noah though, remembering the other man's reaction the night he'd told him about David's illness. Instead he asked after David and was secretly relieved when Noah said that he was recuperating well. Kurt would not admit even to himself that he wanted to see for himself how David was coming along; this was simply natural concern for a fellow human being.

Now he took out a suede jacket from the hall closet and laid it on the back of the couch preparatory to Noah's arrival and made sure that he looked as fabulous as ever. He'd got a good eight hours sleep the night before and he was happy to see that his eyes and complexion were clear and there was no undue puffiness to be seen. He was especially pleased with the effect of the soft crimson sweater he was wearing because it added the perfect amount of color to his ensemble. He was wearing chocolate brown cords tucked into his new boots and the uniform coloring made his legs look longer than usual.

When he heard Noah on the intercom, he grabbed his coat and headed downstairs to meet him. The tanned man was leaning against his car, sexy as ever in a black jacket over a gray turtle neck sweater, his long, jeans-clad legs crossed, the black military-style boots adding a slight touch of menace. The predatory grin that spread over his face when he saw Kurt's outfit added to the overall effect of barely-leashed sexual power and a couple of passersby eyed the two men interestedly.

"Hey, princess, looking as hot as ever," he moved to open the door for Kurt, laughing softly as the singer blushed. Kurt's answering sneer would have been a bit more convincing if he hadn't looked so pleased at the compliment.

Puck was determined to keep Kurt calm and in as good a mood as possible for the imminent meeting with Dave. He was aiming for a nice, relaxed afternoon where the two men could finally put the past behind them as much as was possible, but he didn't hold out much hope in the face of Kurt's legendary temper. He wasn't exactly eager to play matchmaker or referee but as he was emotionally invested now in the wellbeing of both men, he felt he had to do his part.

He chatted with Kurt the whole way out to Totteridge, explaining that Dave had bought the house because he'd been tired of hotel living every time he traveled. The suburb was a perfect compromise between city convenience and being able to have extensive gardens and grounds. Kurt had an idea that, even if the house wasn't exactly a mansion, it would probably turn out to be just as elegant. From what he remembered of the island house, David seemed to have an eye for beautiful architecture - buildings with personality, as some would say.

Minutes later as Puck turned onto a cobbled driveway Kurt stared with appreciation at the dusky rose-colored façade of the house coming into view before them. It was large, indeed, but the proportions, even from this distance away, meant the house had a welcoming feel. Kurt especially loved the white trim around the windows and the front door.

Before Noah could get his door, Kurt jumped out, smirking at the other man, but waited for him to lead the way into the house. The door wasn't locked and they entered into a foyer where the gleaming marble tiles reflected the ceiling's recessed lighting. The décor was surprisingly modern and the foyer itself seemed to stretch the entire width of the building's front. There were French windows at both ends and to the left of the front doors, a winding carpeted staircase went up to the second floor.

Puck smiled down at Kurt's intrigued expression and took his elbow to lead him through glass doors that led into a huge, beautifully furnished family room. "If there's time, you'll get the grand tour later. I think Dave's in the kitchen."

Kurt hung back slightly, a startled look on his face. "You call your boss 'Dave'?"

Puck looked a little surprised and then he grinned. "What, you thought I called him 'boss' to his face? Nah, we knew each other from way back in the day. Plus, he's kinda laid back for being so stinking rich, y'know."

Kurt nodded dazedly, allowing Noah to tug him towards yet another set of doors and he realized there was a fantastic smell coming through them. He barely had time to take in the gorgeous art work and artifacts lying on occasional tables before they were stepping into a warm room redolent with the smell of cooking meat. He relaxed subconsciously, just becoming aware that he had actually been slightly tense on the drive over.

He gazed around at the gleaming ultra-modern appliances and a truly magnificent set of copper pans hanging over a marble-topped centre island before he realized someone was taking what appeared to be a roast from a massive oven.

He gaped at the back of the person as he realized the cook was none other than their host and stifled a little giggle as the other man turned to greet the two newcomers. Billionaire David Karofsky, owner of numerous companies and employer of countless thousands, sported not only an apron but smears of flour on his sweaty forehead. To say he looked a little harassed was a heck of an understatement and both Puck and Kurt struggled to keep a straight face.

"Uhm, hi, uhm, Kurt, I'm thinking maybe you guys are a little early?" David not only looked harassed, he appeared a little tired, no doubt from having pushed himself too much after his recent illness. Puck chuckled while glancing around at the covered dishes waiting to be set out on the patio table where they were going to eat.

"No, 'boss', I think you're a little late," he pointed at the clock, an unrepentant smirk on his tanned face.

"Oh, but it's okay, really; it's uhm, good to see you…" Kurt stuttered out before trailing off, as David finally looked directly at him. Kurt could see that this man was a lot thinner than the one he'd left behind on that island and a part of him ached to see such a vital man even slightly diminished. He smiled tentatively at David, breaking their stare as he moved to shut the oven door that David had forgotten about.

"Oh, thanks for that… uhm, let me set this down." The pan with the roast was set down and then he turned to Puck: "Get Kurt a drink, will you, and we're set up on the patio. I just have the Yorkshire pudding to put in and then we're good to go."

If Kurt didn't know better he'd think the other man was nervous but he couldn't think why he would be. He turned and followed Puck through another set of French doors onto the patio where a beautiful table was set and in the middle of which a large pitcher of juice was waiting. Taking a filled glass from Noah, Kurt looked around at the back of the building which had the same warm rose-colored brick as the front but was festooned with climbing plants twining up the face.

It was really lovely out there and Kurt felt himself relax even more, but as he glanced through a pane of one of the French windows, he noticed David standing with his head bowed. He'd just turned from the oven, Kurt saw, but his whole posture seemed to scream defeat before he suddenly straightened up and grabbed one of the covered dishes.

Kurt looked away just in time because David was coming outside to place the dish on the table, indicating with his head to Noah that he should come with him for the others. Kurt took a seat at the table, sipping his drink, and pondering what he'd just seen. He tried to repress the little bubble of sadness threatening to spoil his day but his kind heart couldn't ignore David's obvious distress. Maybe, he wondered, he should have waited until he was certain the other man had fully recovered.

He was still pondering this when Noah came back out with a couple more dishes and as he placed them in the centre of the round table, he glanced at the unnaturally silent singer. "What's up, you okay?" He knew this meeting would be a little tense but he had not really expected David to look so shit-scared. Kurt had no idea how much power he held over the other man.

"Uh, no, I mean yes, I'm okay," he tried to smile but he felt it had come out more as a grimace and hoped Puck would just let it go.

"Look, let's just have a nice lunch, alright? Anything you guys have to say to each other, just wait until I'm out of firing range." He grinned as he saw Kurt's expression lighten, the appearance of the dimple in the soft cheek meaning he was trying not to smile. He waited for Kurt to nod and then turned back to the kitchen to have a word with Dave.

The other man was just retrieving the finished Yorkshire pudding and looked up when Puck came in. "Hey, I think that's everything." He realized that Puck was still coming towards him rather than turning to go back outside. "What is it?"

Puck took a deep breath before starting. He had a very fine line to walk, one where he hoped he wouldn't overstep the bounds of their friendship, but he had to say something.

"I just want to ask you to take a deep breath before you go out there. You look as if you're a step away from collapsing." He watched Dave's hazel eyes widen and then as he flushed in what was probably embarrassment.

Dave did as he asked and then nodded. He was actually grateful for Puck's presence because he didn't think he could handle being alone with Kurt, the way he felt right now. His smile was grateful as he took up the pudding again. "Thanks, I think I just needed a minute."

Puck nodded and clapped him lightly on the shoulder before turning back to the door, opening it and allowing Dave to precede him. The other man took another deep breath and straightened his back before stepping out into the watery sunlight and Kurt's brilliant blue gaze.

Déjà vu threatened to swamp Kurt when he realized it was the three of them sharing a meal again, just like back on the island but he was able to throw it off, the absence of storm clouds and angry sea going a long way to help.

The food was delicious, the conversation was stilted and the three men couldn't wait for the ordeal to end.

Kurt made sure to take a little of everything; he wasn't often subjected to the traditional Sunday roast lunch which included at least two items he didn't care for – beef and the infamous Yorkshire pudding – but he was aware of the length to which Dave had apparently gone.

He looked at his host and cleared his throat. "I didn't know you had 'cook' on your resume," he tempered the overly-polite words with a warm smile. David looked as if he could barely chew and swallow the delicious food he had prepared but he nodded at Kurt's words.

"As an only child I spent a lot of time either rough-housing with the kids next door or hanging out with the staff. My favorite person was the cook we had when I was about twelve." He smiled in what was obviously fond reminiscence. "I think she was a frustrated teacher; she taught me everything she could think of and she was endlessly patient."

"Well, this was really good… but where is all your staff? Surely you don't live here alone?" Kurt knew he was being nosy, but seeing as David knew so much about him, turnabout was only fair play.

David set down his juice and shook his head, glancing over at Puck before he answered. "No, I don't live here alone and… uhm, I gave them the day off." He shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. "I'd been surrounded by people hovering around me since I was sick, I just wanted a little breathing room."

Kurt just murmured in response, too polite to indicate that he could see through that obvious lie. David looked so stressed out and Kurt believed it was all because he was coming to talk to him today. The man probably didn't want any witnesses to his possible humiliation, should their conversation deteriorate to the state of affairs it had when they had been on the island.

Silence descended again as the men finished eating, Puck speaking up every now and again about his little holiday. At last, when it was obvious no one was going to have seconds, Dave got up to take up his and Kurt's plate. Puck jumped up and insisted that since Dave had gone to all that trouble to cook that great meal, he would wash up and Dave could take Kurt into the lounge where they'd have coffee later.

Dave looked at Kurt enquiringly and when the singer nodded and rose, he led the way inside. On the way, they chit-chatted about the various pieces of art that caught Kurt's particular attention and when they came to the comfortably untidy lounge, Dave indicated for Kurt to have a seat.

He tried to not be obvious in his staring but he had longed to see Kurt, to have that fascinating blue-green gaze turned on him, even if their expression was less than pleased. Now, Kurt seemed so much more relaxed, not angry as before, and Dave wondered if it meant he was further along on the road to forgiveness.

As Kurt settled himself comfortably on one of the couches, Dave moved to stand by the fireplace, fiddling with the logs that were lying there waiting for the first cold snap. His head snapped up as he heard Kurt call his name.

"David." He spun around, the expression on his face surprisingly similar to a deer's caught in headlights.

Kurt chuckled and pointed to an armchair near to him. "Oh, come on; anyone would think you were on your way to your execution." He watched as the larger man moved cautiously to the chair and sat, his gaze going everywhere before finally settling on Kurt.

Silence reigned again but this time Kurt didn't let it last too long. This whole meeting face-to-face idea was going to get tired if David was going to continue acting like a condemned man. As he prepared to launch into his speech, however, David forestalled him.

"How can I make it up to you?"

When Kurt continued to stare, surprised, Dave leaned forward earnestly and tried again. "I've apologized more than once already so, just tell me, what can I do to get you to forgive me?"

Kurt, for the first time in his life, drew a blank. "Ehrm, I don't know?"

TBC

A/N: Please give me feedback, folks. I like to know what my readers are thinking, okay?