2014
Kurt was changing after dance class when his phone buzzed on the floor of his locker. He ignored it in favor of buttoning his jeans and slipping his shirt over his head. It rattled again, and Keith smiled at him from the next locker. "Someone wants you."
Kurt snorted. "The only someone who could possibly want me is in Abnormal Psych with a professor who will confiscate any cell phones he finds being used in class."
Unless. Kurt's heart beat a little faster remembering that day when Mr. Schue and Miss Pillsbury pulled him out of class to tell him about his dad. He grabbed his phone and swiped at it, muttering please not Dad under his breath like a prayer. He didn't recognize the number, but he clicked on the first text anyway and almost dropped his phone.
It's Dave. I'm in the city. Can we meet?
Keith nudged his hand, and Kurt realized he was still standing there with his sock in one hand and his shirt on the bench beside him. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Kurt replied. "Yeah. Just-" he waved his phone vaguely. "Just an old friend I never expected to hear from again. He's in the city and wants to meet."
"An old boyfriend?" Keith teased, swinging his bag onto his shoulder.
Kurt just shook his head. "It's complicated," he said, and turned his attention back to his phone.
He slowly typed out a reply. Dave, I can't believe it. How long will you be in town?
I'm flying out this evening. I have about three hours before I should head to the airport. Can I not buy you some coffee?
Kurt smiled. Of course. I just finished for the day. There's a Starbucks on the corner of 45th and 7th Ave, near Times Square. Meet you there in half an hour?
Three blocks from there. I hoped you'd say yes. Do you still drink mochas?
Kurt finished dressing in record time, and tapped his reply as he raced out of the locker room, an unexpected lightness in his step and a little flutter in his stomach. On my way.
Kurt almost didn't recognize Dave, sitting at a corner table with two steaming cups and a plate with a piece of coffee cake and a brownie on it. He was looking for the boy he'd last seen on prom night, scared and upset and not so confident. The Dave in Starbucks was tanned and had a good haircut and looked at ease in himself in a way that both startled Kurt and made him happy.
"Wherever you've been, it suits you," he said without preamble as he slid into the chair across from Dave.
Kurt watched Dave take him in, heard his low whistle. "You, too. Damn, Kurt. How is it possible that you grew up even more?"
Kurt found himself flushing, which was kind of silly, considering he spent the day being looked at by all kinds of people who judged him based on his appearance. "I keep getting taller, for some reason. My dad has no idea where those genes came from. Possibly the mailman, we can't be sure."
Dave laughed and shook his head. "God, I've missed you, Kurt." He toyed with a wooden stir stick and lowered his eyes. "But I'll understand if you didn't miss me. I shouldn't have just disappeared like that."
"You said you were going to," Kurt pointed out. "I was prepared never to see you again."
"I was- I was pretty messed up back then." Dave shrugged. "Hell. I guess I'm still a little messed up, but I guess I finally stopped hating myself for it."
"When did that happen?" Kurt asked.
"Probably on an airplane between Dublin and Berlin, or maybe Amsterdam. I'm not sure. I just know that once I'd been gone for about six months, I started to feel different."
Kurt nodded, trying not to be too obvious about staring at Dave, but damn. "You... look different."
"I'll always be glaringly American the minute I open my mouth, but sometimes it's still nice to blend in a little."
Kurt poked his fork into a corner of the brownie. "So you're still where? Europe?"
Dave nodded. "I went to London, first, and then Dublin and Berlin. Portugal. Lisbon is a really beautiful city, which I didn't expect. A couple different places in France."
"Paris?" Kurt asked, because he'd always wanted to go there. He nibbled a corner off his forkful of brownie.
"Nope. Normandy, most recently. I had a great-uncle who was part of the Allied Invasion. It was pretty intense, kind of like being at Arlington Cemetery or the battlefields at Antietam. I was just in Ohio for my dad's 50th birthday, but I'm headed back tonight."
"How was Lima?"
Dave rolled his eyes at Kurt, setting his coffee on the table. "I'm a world traveler and you want to hear about Lima? Come on, Kurt, what the hell's with this small talk? I never thought we expected that from each other."
Kurt stared at Dave, his breath coming a little quicker than he'd have liked. "I don't know what we're doing here, David. I mean, I told a classmate that we were old friends, but it didn't feel that way two summers ago, and it doesn't feel that way now. What do you want from me?"
Dave planted his hands on the table and Kurt startled a little. "You know, I could have booked my flight through Boston or D.C. I didn't have to come to the city, but I wanted to. I wanted to see you because I miss you, even if I'm not supposed to."
The anger rose up inside him, unexpectedly intense. Kurt gave up trying to pretend he was okay. "Look, you left me, Dave. You didn't even give us a chance to figure things out, you were just gone. And here you are, breezing back into my life like it hasn't been two fucking years. I think about you all the time, wonder where you are and how you are. If we were just friends, I highly doubt you'd still affect me that much. What am I supposed to do in two and a half hours when you're on a damn plane again to god knows where?"
"Budapest," Dave offered carefully. "Budapest and Sarajevo and Prague, and then maybe Bucharest. I promised my dad I'd come home for Christmas this year, though."
"Now who's making small talk?" Kurt mumbled. He crammed the last of the brownie into his mouth and chewed angrily.
"I just didn't want God to be the only one who knew where I'd be."
Kurt smiled in spite of himself. "You still know how to make me laugh," he said around his mouthful of brownie. Dave's eyes twinkled.
"You're making it really hard for me not to flirt shamelessly with you."
"I would flirt back," Kurt admitted.
"And Blaine? What would he say about that?"
He sat back, avoiding Dave's eyes. "Blaine and I have an . . . arrangement - don't give me that look. We broke up after I graduated, and it took a while for us to both decide we were ready to try again, even after he moved to the city. By then he'd already found a place in the New York scene, which, let me tell you, is all about hooking up. So he still does that, sometimes."
"And you?" Dave finished off the last of his coffee and pushed his empty cup into the middle of the table. "Are you . . . in the scene?"
Kurt bit his lip, but lost the battle to not laugh. "No. No." He shook his head. "That's... really not my thing."
"But there is someone, isn't there? Because I know you, Kurt. You wouldn't let Blaine do that if you weren't at least interested in someone else."
"Someone else," Kurt agreed. "That's actually a pretty dumb question, Dave. You should know the answer to that."
Dave looked genuinely puzzled. "I don't- oh. Oh! Me?" he squeaked.
"A gold star for Mr. Karofsky. Yes, David. Maybe I'm crazy, but here I am, still waiting for you. I think . . .." he trailed off, feeling betrayed by his lack of anything resembling a brain-to-mouth filter when it came to Dave.
"What?"
"I think . . . I've always just been waiting for you to come back into my life so we could try to finish all the things we didn't get to on prom night."
Dave opened his mouth and left it open, his eyes darting back and forth between Kurt's hands, his face, the floor. "God," he said, shifting a little in his seat. "That's a hell of a thing to say to a guy before he gets on a plane and flies three thousand miles away."
"That's not what I meant," he protested. "I just mean... David, that spring, I feel like I got to have the best friend I'd always wanted. And then you left, and I - I missed you, so much."
Dave's eyes flashed with sadness and something a little dark. "I wasn't ready for you then, Kurt. I wanted to be. I knew how much you wanted it, but I couldn't give that to you. I honestly don't know if I can now either. I'm not a mess like I was then, but I also know that I wouldn't be going back to Europe if I wasn't still a little lost, you know?"
Kurt reached across the table and took Dave's hand in his own. "It's okay. God, I really wasn't going to tell you any of that. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I think we needed to put all the cards on the table. We never did, back then." He squeezed Kurt's hand, and it felt familiar and foreign at the same time. "I didn't ever have a best friend either, you know. You kind of gave me permission to say anything. Even if I couldn't do that then doesn't mean I don't want to."
"Just don't be a stranger on this trip, please?" Kurt knew he didn't have the right to ask anything of Dave, but that seemed the least benign request. "And be safe?"
Dave nodded over the detritus of their snacking. "I'll do my best. Will I see you in Lima at Christmas?" He stood and started clearing away the cups and napkins.
"I don't know," Kurt said honestly. "It's a little early to be making those plans. I feel like school just got back after winter break and it's already March."
Dave nodded, stuffing all the trash into the garbage can. With nothing in his hands, he looked a little lost. "I guess we'll just have to see, then."
Kurt took a step forward, hesitating. "I don't want to go another two years without hearing from you again."
"I'll stay in touch, I promise." Dave stretched his arms out, beckoning Kurt toward him. Kurt went, and was wrapped in the warmth and strength of Dave's hug. "Thank you for this," Dave said into his ear.
"You're welcome," Kurt breathed. He was shocked with how familiar Dave's embrace and scent still were, and when he turned his head, he brushed his lips against Dave's neck almost automatically, and felt Dave's startled gasp.
"Jesus, Kurt," Dave sighed, and Kurt took advantage of Dave's distraction to press their lips together.
It wasn't anything like the fumbling attempts they'd made two years ago. Dave's hands tightened on Kurt's shoulders, and Kurt snaked his arms around Dave's waist. He heard Dave's groan as he deepened the kiss, and shivered.
"This... wasn't what I meant to do," he said, nuzzling Kurt's neck just below his ear. "Honestly."
"It's okay," Kurt said, stepping back an inch and smoothing his hands over the fabric of Dave's green t-shirt. "Really."
Dave closed his eyes, visibly pulling himself together, and took a deep breath, letting it out as he stepped away. "I need to go. I don't want to miss my flight."
"Right." Kurt nodded and watched as Dave shouldered a travel-worn backpack and slid out the handle on a tiny rolling suitcase. "You're traveling light. I never learned to do that."
Dave shrugged. "I have plenty of emotional baggage. I like to keep the physical stuff light to compensate." He waved once, smiled, and walked out the door without looking back.
Kurt decided watching him get in the cab and drive away would be needless torture, so he stayed at the table, knotting his hands and trying to decide what to do next.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, jolting him out of his musings. It was from Blaine. Chinese or Indian for dinner?
He was feeling worked up from kissing Dave. Kurt was hungry, for sure - only not for food.
Forget dinner. I want you. Race you home.
The shower was running when Kurt let himself into the apartment. He dropped his bag and shed his clothes, leaving a trail behind him on his way to the bathroom. When he pulled aside the curtain, Blaine startled, but Kurt didn't give him a chance to react. He leaned in over the edge of the tub and grasped his face with both hands, kissing him hard. Blaine made encouraging noises, and when they paused for air, he was smiling.
"Inspirational day?"
"Uh huh," Kurt murmured and climbed carefully into the tub, kissing Blaine again. He groaned in pleasure when the hot water hit his back; dance class always left him a little sore. Blaine kneaded the muscles along his neck and shoulders, making him droop and sigh against Blaine's chest. "That feels so good."
"It's supposed to," Blaine said into the side of Kurt's neck. His arms wrapped around Kurt's waist and Kurt felt Blaine's hand wandering down to reach for his cock.
"Uh-uh," Kurt scolded, slapping Blaine's hand away playfully. "I have other plans."
Blaine chuckled, relaxing. "I won't stand in their way."
"Good," Kurt said with a little grin. He pushed Blaine to the far end of the tub, out of the way of the spray. "Against the wall," he ordered, nudging Blaine's hips with the heels of his hands, and Blaine went willingly. Kurt sunk to his knees and didn't even pause before he wrapped his mouth around Blaine's cock and swallowed him down.
"Yeah," murmured Blaine, running his hands through Kurt's hair, "you know just what I like."
It wasn't Blaine Kurt was thinking about, though. He had to admit that to himself, even as he fisted Blaine roughly with one hand and worked his cock with his lips and tongue. He wanted to make Blaine cry out - but in his mind, it was someone else's voice he was listening for, another man who was submitting to his mouth, and he was pretty sure that eventually Blaine would realize it too.
He knew exactly what to do to make Blaine come; there was a kind of security in the familiarity of it, the sounds Blaine made and the movement of his hips, the pinpricks of pressure where his hands twisted and gripped in Kurt's wet hair.
"Oh, god, Kurt!" Blaine cried out again, and Kurt kept working at Blaine's cock until Blaine was pulsing on his tongue, coming down Kurt's throat. He left Blaine to recover under the spray while he climbed out of the tub, conscious of his own arousal, but he waited for Blaine to step out and dry himself off before he took his hand and led him into the bedroom.
"You really do have plans, don't you?" Blaine sounded far too thoughtful not to understand what was going on, but Kurt wasn't ready to talk about it yet. With a little pressure on Blaine's shoulder and hip, he turned him around and nudged Blaine gently onto the bed, onto his hands and knees. It was a deviation from their usual script, but Blaine didn't seem to mind. The condoms and lube were within easy reach, and Blaine was relaxed and loose from their round in the shower. It was all so comfortable and familiar - except that it wasn't.
Kurt had always liked the way Blaine felt under him, always liked the way he could cover Blaine's body with his own. But he was craving something else, someone else. He was craving Dave's body, wondering what it would feel like to not quite be able to blanket Dave. He held Blaine's hips hard and wondered if Dave would bruise, if Kurt held him the same way. He listened to Blaine's grunts and moans as he thrust into him again and again and wondered what Dave would sound like. Would Dave chase after his own release, moving with Kurt, or would he just take it like Blaine did? The thought sent sharp want rolling down Kurt's spine and he climaxed suddenly, unexpectedly, harder than he'd come in a long time.
They lay entwined amid the tangled duvet, sweaty and spent, Blaine's hand covering his where he rested it on Blaine's chest.
"That was hot," he said, turning to look at Kurt over his shoulder. "And I'm never going to complain when you want to fuck me senseless, but... there was someone else in bed with us, wasn't there?"
Kurt didn't know what to say. He hated to lie to Blaine, but he also didn't want to hurt him. He stayed silent. Blaine sighed, petting his hand comfortingly.
"It's Adam, isn't it? The two of you have been dancing around each other for months, and I know you've made out with him on nights when I was busy -"
"It's not Adam," Kurt whispered.
"That guy in your set design class, then. The one with the eyebrow ring?"
Kurt shook his head and took a deep breath. "David was in town this afternoon."
Blaine paused. "David... who?"
"David David. Karofsky."
Blaine pulled out of his embrace, flipping over to stare directly at Kurt. "You're kidding me." He was smiling. "Dave Karofsky? I thought he moved away."
"He's been traveling, quite a lot from the sound of things. He was just passing through on his way back to Europe."
He nodded, chewing on his lip. "So did you guys... you know?"
"We had coffee, like we used to back when we were going down to PFLAG."
"And?" Blaine prompted. Kurt shook his head, but Blaine pushed a little. "Hey. If all you'd done was have coffee, you wouldn't have come home ready to go like that."
I wouldn't be so sure about that, Kurt thought grimly. Dave had always had the ability to get him worked up without any effort at all. He stretched out with a sigh. "Kissing. We kissed."
"I guess that means he's a good kisser, then." Blaine rested his head on his hand, and he looked at Kurt with so much affection. Kurt didn't quite understand how Blaine could be so relaxed about it.
"You're really okay with me doing that?"
Blaine laughed. "Yes, baby. I'm so okay with it. But if I remember correctly, Dave wasn't all that okay with you doing that, not while you were with me. I don't want to make a mess of things again." He reached for Kurt, hugging him tight. "This relationship, it's everything to me."
"To me, too. I, um. I explained a little about our . . . situation. I don't know how it would have been if he'd been here for longer, but it was only a couple of hours and a kiss."
"Mmmm." Blaine brushed sweaty hair away from Kurt's forehead, regarding him curiously. "But you wish it had been longer."
"I- I-" Kurt stammered. "I don't know. Maybe? But not because I wanted more physically. I just . . . I missed him, and it was nice getting to see my friend."
"You don't have to explain. I know he's important to you. That's all that matters."
Kurt stared at his own tightly interlocked fingers. "You won't mind if we keep in touch while he's away?"
"Kurt." Blaine reached out and took Kurt's hand in his. "It's really okay. I've always been able to see that being friends with Dave gives you something you need. We're going to be fine."
Kurt wished he could believe Blaine, but there was a tiny gnawing in part of his stomach that told him it wasn't fine, that he and Blaine weren't going to be okay. That Dave Karofsky was always going to be a thing between them, no matter how hard Blaine insisted he wasn't.
It ate at him, the whole time he was cleaning up and getting dressed again, and when Blaine leaned over to get his toothbrush from the counter in the bathroom, Kurt found himself clutching at him, grabbing for some sense of stability and predictability. Blaine hugged him back, and didn't ask for an explanation, and he had to be satisfied with that.
Postcards sent by Dave to Kurt over the next several months:
NORMANDY
Kurt -
I know it's supposed to be a destination, beautiful countryside and everything, but the docks remind me that this was a port city once. I feel like I'm in Dayton, watching the brick crumble around me to be replaced by soulless concrete. But I did the D-Day tour, and it was actually pretty interesting. I'll email you some photos. Heading to Giverny tomorrow to whine about how I can't paint as well as Monet.
- Dave
BUDAPEST
Kurt -
This place is certifiably weird. Lots of theaters and expensive shops and Baroque architecture. The other day I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going, and I ended up in an artsy bar with a queue of about twenty rabbits hanging from the ceiling - with tits. No shit. Tomorrow I think I'll go swimming at the public bath and watch the old guys with mustaches play chess in their swim trunks.
- Dave
PRAGUE
Kurt -
Prague is really, really beautiful, a very European Old Town type of place. Bridges and squares and stone buildings. I woke up this morning and walked through the fog and really felt the age of the place. It reminded me of Budapest a little. Except recently it's filled up with Western and Central European hipster types and British girls hold their bachelorette parties there. Yeah, they're exactly as tasteless as you imagine. So there's plenty for me to be cynical about, no matter how pretty the architecture is.
-Dave
SARAJEVO
Kurt -
I went spelunking in the Bijambare caves. That was fucking terrifying. Remind me never to be trapped in an enclosed space less than two feet tall for forty-five minutes again. Even after the war, this place has a lot remaining, and it's kind of amazing to be in a city where there's an Orthodox church, a Catholic church, a mosque and a synagogue within walking distance of one another.
- Dave
BUCHAREST
Kurt -
I wish I had more hopeful things to say about Romania. I've been spending most of my time here avoiding scams and trying to figure out the currency. It's spelled RON and pronounced "lei." Don't ask me, I just do the math. The coins are bani. I'll bring some back with me when I come back to the states. There's a lot of beggars and the palace parliament is laughably beautiful. I'm trying not to think about how many schools and monasteries were destroyed to pay for those curtains made from real Romanian silk.
-Dave
LONDON
Kurt -
What do you want? It's fucking London.
Merry Christmas.
-Dave
Kurt didn't go home for Christmas. He'd initially wanted to, but his dad and Carole hadn't experienced a New York Christmas before, and Finn had a new girlfriend who was from Connecticut, so the entire family descended on Kurt and Blaine.
Christmas night, he and Blaine sat silent and turkey-stuffed, watching The Sound of Music on the Family Channel. "I'm really glad they all went back to the hotel," Kurt said, resting a hand on his stomach. "And I'm especially glad that we don't have to eat any more food."
"What? You're not enjoying the gluttony of the season?"
"You could stuff me in the oven and I'd be a second turkey dinner in a couple of hours."
Blaine snorted. "That's kind of a gross idea, actually."
They were interrupted by Kurt's phone buzzing across the coffee table. Blaine paused the movie because the dance in the garden was rapidly approaching and that had always been Kurt's favorite part. Kurt answered the call without really looking at the caller ID. "Are you lost again, Dad? The hotel is still east of Broadway, not west."
"You know," said Dave's voice, amused, "after spending hours poring over old city directories online, I feel like there's no way I could get lost in this place."
"You're here?" Kurt's voice squeaked with surprise. "I thought you were in Lima for Christmas."
"Yeah, well. I ended up bailing on London sooner than I'd planned. I'm not used to being in one place for very long anymore and I think I made my dad a little crazy. He gave me a little job to do, so I came here to do it. I'm headed out again tomorrow, though."
Kurt was aware of Blaine watching him, but when he looked over at him, Blaine let his gaze grow vague and disinterested. "Do you - I mean, I don't suppose..." Kurt paused, uncertain of how to handle this, because while it seemed completely gauche to leave his boyfriend at home to meet another guy, he really didn't want to miss the opportunity to see Dave.
"Kurt," Blaine said quietly. "Just go meet him somewhere. I'll be here when you get back."
"Will you . . ."
Blaine's lip twitched. "Yes, I'll leave the movie paused. I won't let the garden dance go on without you."
Kurt lifted his fingers off the speaker on his phone. "Do you have time for a drink?"
"Yeah," Dave said. "That would be nice."
"If you don't mind people singing, there's a piano bar on Central and Dekalb. I'm leaving as soon as I roll myself off the couch, I'll meet you there in 15 minutes?"
He heard shuffling and Dave's voice was a little muffled as he gave the address to the cabbie. "Sounds good. Tell Blaine Merry Christmas for me, and thank him for sharing you with me tonight?"
"I will. See you in a bit," Kurt said. He thumbed at his phone to end the call and he thought he heard Dave's voice echoing walk safely, but he wasn't sure.
"You should wear your new sweater," Blaine called after him as he stumbled toward the bathroom. "It makes your shoulders look great."
Kurt splashed a little cold water on his face and raised his voice over the running water so Blaine could hear him. "It's a drink, not a booty call."
Blaine laughed. "What happened to every moment of your life is an opportunity for fashion? Anyway, you could wear a thrift store jogging suit and Dave would still look at you like you were a piece of coffee cake."
"Dave's seen me in pajamas. I don't need to dress up for him." I've never needed to dress up for him, Kurt thought, tugging the new sweater over his head anyway. Maybe he didn't need it to impress Dave, but he sure as hell did need it to keep warm.
He found Dave at a table in one corner of the piano bar, far enough away from the stage to give them a little privacy and space to talk, but with an unimpeded view.
"I was going to buy you a drink," Dave said, standing to hug him, "but I realized I have no idea what you like."
"Jack and Coke," Kurt said, shrugging out of his coat and tucking his scarf and hat into his sleeve; he didn't need to lose another set.
"Coming right up."
Kurt watched him lean over the bar, ordering their drinks and laughing with the bartender, and decided Dave didn't look too bad in a sweater himself.
When Dave set Kurt's drink in front of him and settled back into his chair, Kurt found his voice. "What are you doing here? And why didn't you call me before tonight?"
"I'm sorry, but I've been immersed in family research. There's only so much you can learn on the Internet. The records on file at the county courthouse are fascinating - I spent three hours this morning reading passenger manifests for these ships..." He paused, watching Kurt's face, and gave a little embarrassed laugh. "I'm being a complete geek, aren't I."
"No," Kurt said, shaking his head slowly. "I just feel like I've been dropped into a story right in the middle and I'm missing something."
"My dad's always been into genealogy, but he was only able to trace back so far in Ohio. There were family rumors, of course, but we've never had anything more concrete than notations in my grandmother's Bible." Dave leaned back in his chair, swirling his drink, which looked milky and sweet. "But I compared what I knew with what I could find online, and filled in a lot of blanks in our family history that way. Since I've been here, I've been visiting cemeteries and I took the ferry out to Ellis Island on Monday. It was cold, but the museum is amazing."
"Wait, wait - how long have you been here?" Kurt felt a pang of hurt, and immediately was guilty about it. As though David couldn't have his own life that doesn't have anything to do with me.
"Two weeks." Dave looked at the table, as if he knew somehow that Kurt felt stung. "It wasn't that I didn't want to see you, I was just . . . consumed. This stuff, my family, it's like this puzzle. Everywhere I've been over the last two years has felt aimless. Now, for the first time, I feel like this is giving me direction."
"It's okay, David. Really." He reached out and took his hand, resting on the table. "It's wonderful to see you so passionate about something, even..."
"Even if I'm turning into an even bigger dork than the kid who forged your handwriting on your calculus homework?"
Kurt smiled, sipping his drink. "Um. Even if it's not me that you're being passionate about."
Dave flushed red in the dim light of the bar. "I'm sorry, about that. About interrupting your night with Blaine. I shouldn't- I don't- I really have no rights to you, Kurt."
"I don't belong to anyone," he said, feeling edgy.
"I didn't mean it that way. God, I always say the wrong thing. I just meant..." He sighed heavily and knocked back the remainder of his drink. "I meant that it's not fair of me to keep expecting you to drop everything to cater to my whims. You have a life here, Kurt. Whereas my entire life is in a backpack and the world's tiniest suitcase."
Kurt shook his head, laughing. He didn't let go of Dave's hand. "I know. I know all those things, and... and sometimes I still do think about dropping everything and following you, you know? I mean, it sounds amazing, what you're doing." He felt the intensity between them, heavy and tantalizing. "It would be so much more amazing to share it with you."
Dave swallowed visibly and pushed his glass to the middle of the table. "Shit, Kurt. That's a hell of a thing to spring on me."
Kurt leaned over the table, close enough that he could lower his voice and still be heard. "You're asking me to stop being honest with you? I thought that was the best part of this friendship."
"It is." Dave fiddled with the cuff of his sweater. "I just wasn't expecting . . . that. Like I said, you have a life here, and I still don't have anything more to offer you than my kind of messed up self."
He laughed, hearing it come out a little hysterical. "David, you're no more messed up than me, or anyone else I know. We're just living our lives, making the best of whatever we've got. Don't tell me you'd rather not bother with... this... just because you're afraid of hurting me? Didn't we cover that ground years ago?"
Dave shrugged. "I never quite know what to think. Don't forget, I spend most of my time in hostels and on airplanes. I don't have a lot of people to talk to. Some days it feels like you're my only friend." He shook his head. "I can't risk losing that over something that never feels like it's going to work."
Kurt sighed. "I don't know either. I just think we're so much more likely to lose each other if we treat each other like strangers. Am I scared? Yes. Do I want to stop? No." He lifted Dave's hand, letting it drop back to the table with a smile. "Do you?"
Dave's fingers skated lightly over Kurt's. He met Kurt's eyes and held them, still and focused in his own gaze. "No."
Breathing felt impossible for a few seconds, and Kurt finally tore his eyes away with a shaky breath. "Do you want to get out of here?"
Dave took one more long drink from his glass and pushed the rest away, standing up quickly enough to jostle the table. "Fuck, yes."
Kurt followed Dave out of the bar, still struggling into his coat even as they tumbled out the door and onto the street. His boots skidded on a thin layer on snow that had accumulated on the sidewalk while they were inside. "Slow down. Do you even have a clue where you're going?"
"Nope," Dave replied, walking backwards. He put out a hand to steady Kurt as he slipped again. "But at least I'm dressed for the weather. This shit doesn't happen in Europe, you know, at least not on the continent. Honestly, I don't think this city's weather's got much going for it. Whatever made you think New York was the right place for you?"
"When we came with Glee Club for Nationals junior year, it was like a dream. I had never felt like I really belonged anywhere until I came here. I looked at all the people on the street and thought in two years I'll be here with you. I don't know that there is another place for me, at least not right now."
Dave shook his head. "You have no idea, not until you go someplace else. There's so much, Kurt. So much to see, to understand. The world is a lot bigger than this self-centered country."
"Someday I want to see it all. But until I finish school, this is where I belong."
They walked in silence for a minute. Kurt took Dave's hand because he wanted to, and because he could feel Dave starting to retreat. "So... your family. What did you find out about them?"
"My great-great-grandparents came here in 1908. They were processed through Ellis Island; lots of Polish Jews were. I have copies of their original entry papers, and the 1915 New York state census, and because of that I have a jumping off point. I'm going to Warsaw first."
"What do you think you're going to find?"
Dave stopped walking. He brushed the snow off a bench and sat, patted the spot next to him for Kurt to sit too. When Kurt had settled, Dave wrapped an arm around him and held him close. Even through their layers of wool and cotton, Kurt could feel the heat of his body. "I'm not under any illusions. If my ancestors managed to survived the anti-Jewish violence of the 1900's, it's a good bet that they didn't survive the Holocaust."
"I'll guess none of your ancestors have survived this long anyway," Kurt said drily. Dave made a face at him. "It's true, isn't it? What are you looking for?"
"If I tell you I'm not exactly sure, you're going to think I'm crazy."
"It's not like you've known for the past two years, either."
"True." Dave rested his head on Kurt's shoulder. "I guess I'm just looking for connection, you know. It sounds stupid to admit that I just want to feel like I belong somewhere, or to someone or something. I've never had that, not even with PFLAG."
Dave's head felt unreasonably good, leaning gently against him that way. Kurt resisted the urge to pet him like a dog. "What do you mean? I never knew you didn't feel like you belonged at PFLAG. Anyway, I was the one who didn't belong."
"It's easy to pretend around people who don't know me. That's really all I've ever done my entire life, and I'm so tired of it."
Kurt nudged Dave with his forehead. "And you think that going to Poland is going to help?"
"Honestly?"
He inclined his head gravely. "Always."
"Probably not. But it probably can't hurt anything, either. And besides, my dad is really curious about what happened to the family that stayed behind." Dave put out an idle hand and ran it along Kurt's, tracing the edges of each finger. "There aren't too many things in this world that my dad and I both care about. This could be... it could help."
Kurt nodded. "I hope it does. For you and for the two of you. I really want you to be happy, David."
"I'm getting there. I think I am, anyway. I think I'm figuring out how to do that."
Kurt watched their hands touching, then turned toward Dave, close enough for Kurt to feel the warmth of his breath. He paused just a moment longer before leaning closer still, waiting for his unspoken consent.
"Is this something that would make you happy?" he murmured. "Or is it just too much? I don't want to push you."
"You've never pushed me, Kurt." Dave's voice was low, rough. "I can't promise you anything. I can't even promise that I won't freak out again."
"I think I can deal with that," Kurt agreed, and pressed forward to kiss him.
It hit Kurt the same way all their other kisses had, shoving him a little off-kilter and leaving him breathless and wanting more. But this time felt less desperate, more intentional. More real, like neither of them expected it to vanish any second. It was just Kurt, kissing Dave, letting him know just how much he meant to him.
Just because their kissing wasn't desperate didn't mean that it wasn't intense, though. Dave wasn't fighting anything, there on the bench in the cold. He was just kissing Kurt and letting Kurt kiss him, and if they'd been anywhere remotely private Kurt had no doubt that things would have progressed. As it was, Kurt felt lucky they weren't being scolded by anyone walking by.
Kurt let his hand, resting lightly on Dave's thigh, make one very gentle trip from hip to knee, echoing Dave's sigh before pulling away. "Maybe next time you're in the country, you won't wait two weeks to let me know?"
"I promise," Dave whispered, pressing his forehead to Kurt's. "And I'll let you know how things go, while I'm away."
He had to try once more, attempting to make the offer sound light, not - like it meant anything more than what it was. "Are you sure you don't want to come back to our place? It's Christmas."
Dave shook his head. "My flight is really early in the morning. Like, criminally early. And it- it would feel . . . awkward. Baby steps, Kurt. You know I need baby steps." He laughed lightly to himself. "Sometimes I feel like I've changed a lot, but I'm still easily spooked when it comes to any of . . . this." He waved his hand back and forth between them.
Kurt knew neither of them needed clarity for this to be meaningful. Part of him wished it didn't have to be so sporadic, but that would sound like whining if he said anything, and he didn't want to leave Dave on a sour note. He smiled, rising to his feet and helping Dave up. "At least let me walk you back to your hotel?"
It was long past eight by the time Kurt returned, stamping off snow and shivering, to their tiny apartment. Blaine was wrapped up in Kurt's mom's old quilt on the couch, his head lolling back onto the edge as he dozed, but his eyes opened and he smiled as Kurt approached.
"Bet you're looking for somebody to warm you up," he said, his voice a little crackly with sleep.
Kurt had a sudden vision of what it would be like to be in this apartment with Blaine in thirty years, or forty, or fifty, Blaine sitting on the couch just like that, with that same matter-of-fact love on his face as he gazed at Kurt. It made Kurt warm inside to imagine it. He kicked off his galoshes and struggled out of his wet coat before nestling under the blanket against Blaine. The sensation was familiar and comforting, and he tried not to cling to it too hard. "Yes, please."
Blaine opened up his blanket to welcome Kurt inside, wrapping it around his shoulder and tucking it under his feet, folded up against his chest. He kissed Kurt's neck above the collar of his shirt. "Hope you don't mind it's me and not him."
Kurt shook his head. "No. It was weird - not bad, just a little tense, and... I think Dave was ready for me to go and let him get on the plane." He felt himself deflate a little as he sighed, sounding more unhappy than he'd realized he was feeling. "He doesn't really want to be here, anyway."
"I don't think that has anything to do with you, Kurt."
They watched the garden dance scene, holding hands under the blanket, and Kurt was starting to doze off in the midst of the Von Trapp family's performance at the Salzburg Festival performance when his phone rang. Blaine dug into Kurt's pocket and retrieved it, placing it into Kurt's hands without looking at the screen, but he was pretty sure neither of them could imagine it would be anyone other than Dave, calling him.
"Hey," Kurt said, trying to decide if he should move out from under the blanket to someplace slightly more private, or if that would be even more awkward.
"I'm just waiting to board," said Dave, sounding a little irritated.
"Airport giving you a headache?"
"No." He heard Dave sigh over the murmur of voices and loud announcements. "I'm just down on myself. What else is new?"
"David-" Kut began, but Dave cut him off.
"Don't. Please, Kurt. Don't try to make me feel better. Just let me feel guilty, okay?"
Kurt twisted his face into a frown even though Dave couldn't see him. "What do you have to feel guilty about?"
"I keep running away on you. It's our thing, didn't you know? We have a moment, I freak out, you reassure me, and I haul ass halfway around the world. It's what we do."
He sighed, feeling Blaine's feet digging into his hip. He pulled the blanket closer around them. "I really don't think that's worth feeling guilty about. If that's what we do, it's taken us this far."
"You're saying we shouldn't try to fix what isn't broken?" Dave was getting hysterical now. "Well, guess what, Kurt? I'm pretty fucking broken."
"Do you think I care about that? I know exactly who you are. I know who you are and I -" He paused and took a shaky breath. " - I love you anyway."
"Oh," said Dave helplessly. Kurt heard him choke on a sob. "I don't know how, or why, but -"
"Just let me, okay? I'm not asking for anything but that. Just let me love you, David."
Blaine reached out and grabbed for Kurt's free hand and squeezed it hard. He nodded at Kurt, as if giving his permission. Kurt smiled back at him, sad but grateful.
"Is that really all you want?"
"No," said Kurt. "It's what we've got, though."
He sat there listening to Dave's harsh breathing, waiting for him to say something else, wondering what else there was to do.
"I can't promise you anything at all," Dave finally said once his breathing had settled and the harsh sniffling that crackled over the line had stopped. "Hell, I don't even know when I'll be back in the country."
Kurt rested his head back on the arm of the couch. "I'm not asking for promises. Those postcards were nice."
Dave was silent for a moment and Kurt could hear the sharp tones of a loudspeaker in the background. "I've got to go, Kurt. We're boarding. I'll be in touch."
I'll bet, Kurt thought, but he just said, "I'd like that. Hope your flight is uneventful."
Kurt tossed his phone at the coffee table with a frustrated sigh, and Blaine captured his hands, kissing them. "Dave's flipping out again, huh?"
"I just don't know what to do," Kurt moaned. "This feels so... so inadequate. He doesn't want what I have to offer, and..." He leaned helplessly into Blaine.
"It's not what you want, either." Blaine stroked his shoulder. "Do you want me to talk to him?"
Kurt winced. "No. He doesn't even want to come over to our house. I don't think it's you, I think it's just... everything. It's too much for him."
Blaine nodded. "So, you wait. It's up to him, isn't it? He gets to live his life and make his choices. You're not responsible for making him happy."
"I just worry that all of his wandering will keep him from being happy instead of helping him get there." Kurt rubbed at his eyes and burrowed a little further down under the blanket. "And I'm supposed to do what? Keep waiting? Keep settling for a few hours together every couple of months?"
"No. You keep being there for him when he needs you, and you live your life. You get to be happy too, Kurt."
Kurt peered at Blaine over the edge of the blanket, at his sloppy hair and the ratty t-shirt he wore around the apartment, and the way his eyes squinted in the bright light of the tv. "I love you, you know."
Blaine grinned, wide and happy. "I know. And I love you too."
The next time Kurt heard from Dave, it was New Year's Eve. Kurt and Blaine were at a party, full of a bunch of the kids Blaine had met his first year when he'd lived in the dorms. Usually Kurt felt out of place at those things because Blaine's friends were so different from his friends, but it was beyond nice to be with a bunch of people who weren't trying to kill each other with stiletto heels over solos and starring roles.
He was fuzzy from too many cups of punch. It had looked innocent, like the juice-soda-floating sherbet his aunt used to bring to family potlucks, but this bowl most definitely had had something extra in it.
"I love you," Kurt said, pulling Blaine close against him. "You know you're the hottest guy at this party, right?"
Blaine snagged Kurt's cup by the lip and peered inside. "You've had too much, cowboy. Here."
Blaine traded the cup for a bottle of water. Kurt frowned. "It's really good. Sweet. Like home." He knew he wasn't making any sense.
"Uh huh." Blaine just smiled at him. "Drink your water. The ball is going to drop soon."
"Can't be midnight already. Where did the night go?"
Blaine wrapped his arm around Kurt and hauled him off his perch against the kitchen counter. "I think you lost it in the bottom of a cup or twelve of that punch."
"Party pooper." Kurt tried to stick his tongue out at Blaine, but Blaine leaned in and kissed him instead, sloppy and a little too forward for public. Blaine pulled away and tugged on Kurt's hand, leading him into the living room. Everyone was crowded around the tv watching the ball all lit up in Times Square. Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine and settled his chin on Blaine's shoulder. "Happy New Year," he whispered into Blaine's ear.
He didn't hear Blaine's reply over the cheering of the others as the ball dropped, but he did feel his phone buzzing in his back pocket. He fished it out and thumbed to his text messages while listening with half an ear to Blaine singing Auld Lang Syne. It was from Dave.
Happy New Year 2015! We had our celebration last night. Warsaw is unbelievable. Headed out of the city in a day or two.
Kurt poked at his keyboard with a single thumb. Happy New Year, David. I hope 2015 gets you closer to what you're looking for.
He didn't get another text back.