The Storm: Redemption
Chapter Sixteen
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
Later that night, Dave and Kurt nuzzled each other in the huge four-poster bed, Kurt giggling as he confessed to David that as a child he'd once dreamed he was a princess, a prince had come to his rescue and after getting married, he'd requested that all the beds in their castle were to be four-poster beds. When he'd told his dad that, he couldn't understand why he was met with silence and a strange stare from the man.
He'd gone on to explain to his poor father that every princess needed a four-poster bed because they were simply prettier than regular old beds like the ones they had. Burt Hummel had only grunted at that and told him that the time for princes and four-poster beds was a long, long way away. For now, he just had to settle for what the commoners slept in.
Dave chuckled as he listened to Kurt's sleepy voice, making a note to himself that he'd have to get a couple of four-poster beds delivered to each of his homes. He knew for a fact that this particular hotel, catering to the cream of the crop when it came to high-end clientele, had different styles of four-poster beds. His parents had often stayed at this hotel when he was younger and he recalled fun times playing on these beds, the wooden posters proving perfect for the boisterous imaginings of a bored little boy.
He realized Kurt had drifted off to sleep, his face relaxed, his body sated from the second round of their activities. He was gratified that his lover was just as hungry for Dave as he was for him and he'd been hard put to keep up with him. Kurt had sucked him relentlessly and when he'd been afraid it would end too soon and he would come, pulsing down the singer's throat, Kurt had pulled off and then ridden him. It seemed that was his favorite position and Dave loved it, too; after all, he was considerably larger than Kurt and he had the added pleasure of watching Kurt's beautiful face and wanton hips as he bounced and writhed on top of him.
Dave slipped into the shower for a quick wash off and then wrapped himself in one of the complimentary robes the hotel provided. He padded out to the living room, noticed it was empty and then headed down the short hallway to one of the other bedroom doors. He noticed a strip of light showing beneath it, figured Puck was still up and knocked.
At Puck's voice beckoning him to enter, he stepped into the room, smiling a little as he saw the other man sitting cross-legged on the bed. He was surrounded by charts and had a slightly harassed air about him.
"Hey, have you eaten?" Dave took a seat in the armchair by the bed, leaning forward to look intently at the tanned man who was both employee and friend. He was one of the few people David trusted almost completely, hence the task he'd given him of protecting the man who held his heart.
Puck nodded. "Yeah, I had something when the food came up and you guys were still… ugh, you know," he smirked at Dave, one eyebrow lifting sardonically.
Dave colored only slightly as he huffed a laugh. He hadn't realized they were being so loud but he had nothing to apologize for. Something occurred to him and he looked at Puck, some of the amusement draining from his eyes.
"There's something I've been meaning to ask."
Puck looked at him enquiringly, expecting Dave to ask about the security arrangements. "Yeah?"
"Yes, I've been wondering but I didn't really want to ask," now the color in his cheeks was more pronounced but he soldiered on. "Were you and … did you and… shit!" He dropped his eyes to the floor, hating the feeling of inadequacy that swept over him.
Puck watched for a second or two and then his eyes widened, realization causing a slightly embarrassed flush to color his own face. He chuckled, but seeing Dave tense slightly at that, he hurried to explain.
"God, no, jeeze, never happen!" As he watched Dave try to stifle the sigh of relief, he added mischievously: "Not that he isn't hot enough…"
Dave's eyes flipped up to Puck's, his winged eyebrows lowering as jealousy swelled within him. He was a little put out that Puck seemed to be laughing at him but subsided a bit when he realized there was no malice in the other man's facial expression.
Puck laughed out loud, shaking his head as he stared at Dave with grudging admiration. "I gotta tell ya, boss, the princess has eyes for no one but you; I'd even say from the time you two met on the island."
He watched Dave scoff, though there was a painfully hopeful look in his eyes. "Oh yes, even then, everything was about you, y'know, though he tried to hold on to that anger of his. Man, dude has a bit of a temper!"
Dave joined him in chuckling. "A 'bit'? A wildcat has nothing on him, believe me."
Puck leered at Dave, curiosity glinting in his eyes. "Yeah, when you say wildcat, d'you mean as in …"
"Hey, hey, I don't kiss and tell!"
The two men laughed like silly schoolboys before they settled down, remembering that the situation at hand was all too serious and they needed to protect the sleeping diva they both had feelings for. Dave acknowledged that Puck's liking for Kurt would be an asset because he was just as invested in protecting Kurt as he was. David, with his many commitments and obligations, could not be at Kurt's side every waking moment. This was where Puck and his special, hand-picked team came in.
The two men looked over the charts which were really schedules that Puck had drawn up detailing the team and the rotations they would do to see to it that Kurt was never left alone at any time.
Dave remembered the specific reason he had come to talk to Puck. "Kurt and I have to visit an old friend, his agent, actually, tomorrow. We'll re-work the schedule around that, okay?"
Puck nodded and shifted the requisite chart over toward his boss. The two men pored over the sheets of paper while Puck outlined the members of the team for Dave.
"We'll have a four-man team, besides myself, all hand-picked for a specific reason." When Dave looked at him with a quirked eyebrow, he smiled and continued. "They're all gay or bi-sexual."
Dave's eyes widened in surprise and Puck smiled, knowing his unorthodox recruiting method would come in handy one day.
"Why?" Dave asked, staring at the other man in wonder. He'd never heard of anything like that before; it never occurred to him that someone would screen potential team-members in that way.
Puck shrugged. "We're both bi, though I skew more towards women, and I just feel that we'd both feel better working with people who wouldn't, even privately, be judging us. I think it's brilliant, myself."
He smirked arrogantly at the other man, enjoying the way the Dave's expression had lightened and he'd relaxed subconsciously as Puck had explained his strategy.
Dave nodded in silent agreement; he really didn't need Puck's head to be any bigger but the man was an awesome security specialist and the scheme was, indeed, brilliant. He looked back at the list of names and the attributes which were listed beside each name.
"Tell me about… uhm, Ian; what's he like?"
"He's a specialist in any and every bladed weapon you can think of. He's 6'6", is ex-Army Ranger like me and loves opera. He's bald as a billiard ball and never smiles and I can never figure how he manages to always pull the hottest babes, girl or boy."
Dave smirked as he moved his finger down to the next name: "And, what's this one, Xavier?" He pronounced it the American way, ex-zavier, but Puck corrected him, the 'X' sounding like 'Z'.
"Xavier is what you'd call a career freelancer, no military background but he handles himself well in any fight. He's more street than any of my other guys and looks it. People just don't generally want to mess with him. He's into fashion so he'll have something in common with Kurt and is exclusively gay."
He moved on to the next name without Dave prompting him. "Julian is as Brit as you'll ever get – did the name give it away – and he's one ruthless bastard. Loves guns, can slip in and out of shadows in a really scary way and hardly speaks. I have a feeling his family is old money, really old but he's never spoken of them in all the time I've known him.
"Last but definitely not least as they say is Devon." He smiled a little more softly as he said that name. "He is a car nut – loves anything on wheels, has a pilot's license and is a demon in hand-to-hand. He's bi but he doesn't do much. I think he's a romantic; meh, he's pretty young, and is probably waiting on the love of his life. Huh," he shook his head fondly.
Dave looked at him speculatively, wondering if his hard-assed security chief had a soft spot for the romantic young Devon. He had no problems with his staff fraternizing as long as it didn't compromise their jobs. Love will happen whenever and wherever and he was not going to try and stop the tide. He was too smart for that and he had himself and Kurt as an example of inevitability.
Puck continued outlining his plans for Kurt's protection. "I'll take the midnight to 8 a.m. shift. That leaves four hours each for the others starting first with Ian, then Julian, Devon and Xavier. We'll switch it up some of the times so no one, hostile or not, can get a handle on the rotation. Is this cool with you?"
Dave nodded, knowing that Kurt's safety was in good hands. The team Puck had assembled seemed perfect, at least on paper.
Satisfied with the plans, he rose, bid the other tired man a weary good-night, and headed back to the master bedroom and his sleeping angel. Tomorrow would be time enough for the more serious stuff to begin encroaching on their lives but, for now, he was going to get a good night's sleep, wrapped around the most important person in the world – Kurt Elizabeth Hummel.
KHDK
Will Schuester sat across from the two men and stared. He wasn't doing it deliberately but when Kurt had said he wanted to bring someone to meet him after his matinee performance he'd had no idea it would be one of the richest men in the world. Will almost hyperventilated as he welcomed Kurt and the surprisingly charming but reticent younger man into his home.
He had led them into his cozy family room and, after the requisite introductions and chitchat, he had offered the usual choice of drinks, which was turned down. Will had then looked at Kurt and, as if he couldn't help himself, back at David. "So, can I ask… how long have you two been … uhm, friends?"
Kurt's little giggle made Will feel somewhat gauche; he'd tried to refrain from asking but he just couldn't help himself. Kurt hadn't ever said he knew THE David Karofsky so he was understandably curious.
"Oh, Will, you're sounding a little like my dad and I know you aren't old enough to be him," he smiled back at the older man, taking any sting out of his words. "Let's just say David and I met a while ago but we've only just recently become … 'friends', so to speak."
Unfortunately, Will's curiosity was piqued even further as the coy way in which Kurt had spoken left much unanswered. He looked over at David who was busy studying the gardens outside the French windows as if he'd never seen one before, a slight flush on the cheek that Will could see.
Will could tell a lot from the sexual tension zipping between the two men and he also remembered the state Kurt had been in when he'd come back from his break. In his mind he put two and two together and figured out that David was the person behind Kurt's recent emotional upheaval. He smiled to himself; whatever had happened, he knew Kurt well enough to know that David fascinated him, and not because he was a billionaire. His young friend and client was no gold-digger. He was far too proud and full of his own talent for that.
Smiling happily to himself, Will proceeded to engage the two men in light conversation as they waited for dinner to be served. He discovered, in that short time, that David had a wonderfully shy sense of humor, was interested in any and everything, and was completely besotted with Kurt. On his part, Kurt couldn't seem to take his eyes, or his hands for that matter, off of the larger man.
The two were sitting beside each other, naturally, but at every moment Kurt would have some part of his anatomy touching David's; it could be a soft brush to his arm in talking, the sides of their thighs touching or a casual bump of shoulders at a particularly amusing comment or memory. Will found it fascinating to watch for he had never seen the little diva so engaged in someone else.
The two men made a fascinating study in contrasts: Dave was large and obviously muscular but he had a softness about the face that revealed his sensitivity, although at certain points Will could see why he had a reputation for being a ruthless business man. Kurt, on the other hand, was physically long-limbed and pale-skinned, a languid beauty who hid his incredibly sharp mind and wit behind a serene face and gently curved pink lips.
Even the way they were dressed was telling, as Dave was dressed in shades of dark grey, slate and charcoal – the essence of the extremely successful businessman in his bespoke tailoring. Kurt was resplendent in a wide-necked fuchsia sweater paired with skin-tight black leather pants tucked into knee-high shiny black boots. Anyone glancing casually at the two would never believe they had anything in common much less that they were with each other sexually.
As Will watched them surreptitiously, though, Kurt's pinkie curled itself around Dave's causing a faint flush to rise in the older man's cheeks and Kurt whispered something low and probably teasing, making the color in Dave's face deepen. The older man spluttered slightly even as he laughed back a soft, "Behave, you imp!"
Will chuckled and the two men looked up at him, eyes wide as if they'd forgotten a third person was present. "You two look pretty good together, y'know."
Now it was Kurt's turn to color up though a pleased glow lit his aquamarine eyes. He glanced from the corner of his eyes to see Dave looking back at him and he chuckled too. Dave just continued smirking but he moved his hand to more firmly entwine his fingers with Kurt's.
"David, I have to tell you, I've never seen Kurt actually glow before. Good job!" He laughed louder this time as Kurt sputtered indignantly and tried to tug his hand from Dave's but the larger man only gripped it more tightly.
Dave smiled at Will, ignoring Kurt's tugging. "Thank you, Will; I think it's pretty obvious that I'd do anything for him." The amusement dimmed a bit as he prepared to bring up the touchy subject that was foremost in his mind. "With that, there is something I need to bring you up to speed on."
Will nodded graciously and waited for Dave to continue.
"I've recently come to believe that, because of Kurt's association with me, his safety has become an issue."
Wow, Will thought, talk about beating about the bush! He cleared his throat and leaned forward. "What exactly are you saying? Have you received threats regarding Kurt?"
Dave didn't answer immediately, he just turned to look at Kurt, a worried crease between his eyebrows. "Kurt, sweetheart, I've made it clear to a certain person that I am not interested in continuing our liaison. That news didn't go over well; the reaction was not what I was expecting either."
Kurt succeeded in yanking his hand from Dave's and leapt to his feet, his eyes wide with anger. "What, you mean that bitch is the reason why I have 24-hour security?"
Dave got to his feet as well, hands out to calm Kurt's agitated movements. "Babe, she hasn't said anything directly but I think we should err on the side of caution. I've got to admit she sounded a little unstable when she left yesterday."
"Yesterday; what, after brunch?"
"Yes, she was at home waiting on me. I'd forgotten that I'd had a lunch date with her," Dave answered sheepishly. Contrarily, Kurt calmed somewhat at that. Dave would never understand this complex man.
"Oh, so what? You dumped her after forgetting your lunch date? Wow, no wonder she went ballistic," Kurt resumed his seat, shaking his head slightly in reluctant sympathy for a woman who he knew probably hated his guts now. If she hadn't before, Kurt reflected, recalling her reaction to him the night they'd met.
David looked at Will who had been watching all this silently. Will shrugged his shoulders; he, too, would never understand these artistic types. The two men seemed to bond over their mutual confusion at Kurt's current demeanor. Dave felt it best to just go with the flow and sat down again beside Kurt, taking his hand gently and rubbing it in a soothing manner.
Will hid his smile, knowing that the big bad billionaire entrepreneur was well and truly hooked. He continued to smile even when dinner was announced and they trooped into the dining room. His housekeeper had outdone herself and the table was laden with heavenly-smelling food accompanied by Will's favorite claret.
Conversation flowed with the wine and hours later Dave and Kurt were driven away from Will's comfortable home, relaxed and in good spirits. The fact that there was an Emma-shaped cloud hanging over them was the only reminder that things were not, indeed, as rosy as they seemed.
KHDK
Elliot looked up as once more Emma lifted one of his last bottles of Jameson Rarest Vintage Reserve and tipped it over her glass. Thankfully she was a little too unsteady to pour too much and he rescued the bottle quickly before she dropped it.
He sighed as he placed it back on his bar and then on second thoughts moved it to a cupboard which he proceeded to lock. He returned to his seat across from the woman who, apparently, was finding it very hard to accept rejection.
"T-the little witch, ugh, bitch, yes, shtole Davey from me," she whined as she waved the tumbler vaguely with one hand, the other flipping back and forth crazily. For a second the flipping hand seemed to fascinate her and she narrowed her eyes at it. Finally, she looked back blurrily at Elliot. "Where was I? Oh yes, the fairy…"
Elliot shook his head pityingly as he watched the wreck of a woman who just yesterday had been bouncing in his lap, her abundant breasts threatening to knock him out. He was a little saddened as he watched her; there was nothing so unattractive as a whiny, sodden, pathetic woman, he thought.
Emma narrowed her eyes suddenly and sat up, her eyes startlingly clear for a moment. "You know, I think I'll make that little bitch pay! Want to help?"
Elliot was somewhat taken aback at that and stammered for a few seconds before jumping up and grasping her arm. "Darling, you need to sleep this off and forget about frigid Americans and their fairy queens, okay?"
She yanked her arm from him and glared back. "I'll not forget because they cost me my future! Elliot, don't you see? I was doing this for both of us!"
Elliot's mouth dropped open as he stared at the delusional woman in front of him. For all his whoring about over the years, ever since he realized his prick was for more than pissing out of, he had never fucked a married woman. What Emma was now saying seemed to be some idea of hers that, once she'd married the unsuspecting billionaire, she would have continued her liaison with him.
"What? Are you mad? Oh, Emma, have you ever known me to sleep with a married woman?"
She pooh-poohed him drunkenly. "Oh, pish, you're sounding astonishingly bourgeois, darling. You would have made an exception for me, I know." Her tipsy giggles ended in a discreet belch.
Elliot folded his arms and stared at her sternly, a look of distaste on his handsome face. "No, my darling, not even for you. I know you don't remember her but my mother spent too many years dealing with my philandering ass of a father and I must admit it scarred me for life."
He didn't notice the sudden quiet as he continued to rage. "The sodding bastard fucked anything that didn't move fast enough; he disgusts me."
Now it was Emma's turn to stare at him with her mouth slightly ajar. Suddenly her eyes fell and an unnaturally guilty expression appeared on her haggard face. With a cold feeling dropping into his stomach, Elliot stepped back, looking at her pleading eyes and starting to shake his head.
"No, no, Emma, please, please don't say it," his stomach roiled queasily. He turned away and moved towards the bar but he didn't seem to see it.
"Darling, please, it was before_"
"I SAID DON'T SAY IT!" Elliot roared, spinning around and throwing the glass he had been using against the wall. "DON'T SAY IT!"
Emma cowered against the back of her chair, drawing up her legs and folding her arms over her head as if she expected his rage to turn physically against her. She sobbed in fear, her mind almost gone as she shivered, straining to hear if he was moving towards her.
She glanced up when she heard a strangled sound that was quickly cut off. When she looked up, Elliot, was breathing heavily, his eyes suspiciously wet and staring at her with mingled loathing and regret.
She'd never felt remorse at her behavior in all the years since she'd been on her own but now, as she watched Elliot, she had an epiphany. She loved him and now that he was looking at her in such a way, she felt every bit as dirty and pathetic as his eyes seemed to say.
Elliot stood holding onto the counter of the bar and then dropped his eyes, his shoulders drooping as well. The silence, never uncomfortable between them before, was just as bad as the screaming had been. With their upbringing, they were not used to scenes like the one that had just played out. Neither of them, for instance, had ever seen their parents in shouting matches. People in their class just didn't do the fishwife thing, not really. Everything, though often toxic, was conducted in a very cool, almost formal way. Elliot's mother, privy to the sordid details of her husband's numerous extra-marital affairs, had never once confronted him, at least not in front of other people. Emma's family was the same way; all their people were like that. They did not have the luxury of letting loose whenever and wherever like the lower classes did.
Now, with the unspoken revelations tainting the air between them, they were at a loss how to regain their previous footing, if indeed that were possible. Elliot felt sick to his stomach and Emma's horrified, cringing silence only exacerbated the feeling.
Emma watched Elliot for a minute or two more and then rose from the chair, her feet dragging but her head lifting proudly as she gathered up her things. She started to speak, cleared her throat and then continued, striving for a normality that would probably never return to their relationship.
"You know, I think I need some fresh air." She waited for him to acknowledge her in any way and when that finally seemed unlikely, she shrugged nonchalantly.
"I'll ring you later, da-arling," her voice cracked on the last word and still he didn't look at her. She strode to the door, opened and left.
Outside the door she paused, waiting to see if he would call out, hoping with everything in her that he would. When there was no sound from inside the flat, she continued down the stairs, her feet as leaden as her hopes and stepped into the cooling air.
She knew she probably shouldn't get behind the wheel and really, she didn't much have the energy to drive but she got in, anyway. However, she sat for a while, wishing most of the whiskey fumes hadn't evaporated already and thought about how her life had imploded in less than twenty-four sodding hours.
The anger that had been festering since the day before resurged; someone would pay, it was only fair. She knew just who it would be, too. She just needed to do a few things first and then she would settle the score.
TBC