Tree without blossoms - Chapter 2/20

[sunmontue]

Title: Tree without blossoms
Pairing: Kurt Hummel/David Karofsky, mention of past Kurt/Blain, Kurt/OC and Dave/OC, Mercedes Jones/OC,
Rating: M/NC-17
Word count: ~6,400 words for this chapter
Warnings: None that I can think of as yet that aren’t already indicated by the rating. Original characters needed for a future!fic to be plausible? Is that a valid warning?
Summary: A future!fic set in 2025 where Kurt and Dave's lives intertwine again, proving just how small the world really is, and how Fate has a twisted sense of humour. AU from end of Season 2.

Disclaimer: I still do not own Glee.

Author's note:
This will (eventually) be a romantic pairing between Dave Karofsky and Kurt Hummel – if this isn't your cup of tea then stop here. If it is, then I hope you like it. It is a future!fic, so characters have matured/changed a bit. This is the first fic I have posted – not the first I've written, just the first I've had the balls to post. Still looking for a beta if anyone feels up for the job. I apologise if any typos/errors have slipped through - I've only had 4 hours sleep a night for the last ten nights due to a variety of reasons, which I will no doubt complain about on an f-locked post so I don't bore you. Onwards!
 
Chapter One

CHAPTER TWO – AUGUST 2025 (part 2)

Mercedes looked at Dave in shock, eyes registering who exactly the man in front of her was, before taking a step backwards towards the door after Kurt.

"Jones, no. It's alright. I'll go," Dave said, grabbing his house keys from a glass bowl on the table beside the door with one hand, the other tugging at the tie at the front of his apron.

"No, I don't think that's a good idea Karofsky," Mercedes replied, head shaking, already turning to follow Kurt. Mike looked between them,
confused.

"You two know each other?" Mike asked.

"We went to high school together," Dave provided, bundling the apron and placing it on top of the bowl. Mike looked at David, and then at Mercedes.

"So…you'd know Kurt," Mike stated, watching David carefully. He caught the quick flash of warning in Dave's eyes, a drawing down of eyebrows, followed by a short sharp nod. Mercedes had paused to watch the exchange.

"I'll go. I'll ring Mike if I think you need to come takeover. Just…trust me on this. I think I know what's wrong."

"I really don't think you do, and I really don't think you should be going after him…" Mercedes started, but Dave was already out of the door. Mercedes shoved her handbag into Mike's hands and followed after him.

---

Kurt hadn't got very far, he'd had to wait for the elevator, which had taken an eternity, and then he'd simply gone out onto the street, stopping and looking and not knowing what to do, or where to go. Dave and Karen were so comfortable together, obviously together for a significant period of time. It tugged at Kurt's heart in an aching manner, reminding him of the small ways that Alex and Marcus communicated. Things and gestures that he'd seen and brushed off as simple friendship. Bastards. Hanging out with couples tonight, especially one involving David Karofsky was not on the cards.

"Kurt…" Dave asked, the voice coming from behind him. "Are you...okay?"

Kurt felt his anger at Alex come welling up and he whirled around and stalked back to Dave, eyes flashing, thoughts whirling, barely noting that Mercedes was just a few feet behind Dave.

"Are you gay, or are you pretending to be straight? Because last time I checked you were gay!" Kurt accused, voice low. Dave frowned, confused at the question. Whatever problem he'd thought Kurt had with him, this wasn't it. Kurt scowled at the hesitation and kicked him sharply in the shin.

"OW!" Dave exclaimed, jumping back. "Mother fucker Kurt! What the hell is your problem?"

"Karen! Your partner!"

"What's your problem with her? You only just met her!"

"Yeah, but are you faithful to her? Or are you screwing some guy on the side to sate those urges you're apparently still denying? I'm sick of people lying to innocent women just because they want the perfect fucking fairytale life!"

"What the fuck are you talking about? She's been my partner for the last five years. And I haven't been screwing anyone for over six months..."

"Wow, a whole six months you've only been having hetero sex."

"What the hell? I'm not having sex. Any sex. Why would I be having…" Dave paused then and looked at Kurt. "Wait. You think that me and Karen are having sex?"

"She's your partner of five years, what does that usually imply?"

Dave let out a loud bark of laughter that morphed into a full belly laugh. It continued and Kurt scowled, not knowing what was so funny, but he'd never enjoyed the sensation of being laughed at. He crossed his arms and let out a huff of annoyance. Dave's laughter wound down and he managed to catch his breath, words coming out it gasps. Mercedes was wearing a slightly puzzled expression and Kurt was glad he wasn't the only one.

"Karen is…my work partner. Just... work partners. We're... in the police force together. Partners," Dave explained, taking in deep amused breaths.

"Oh…really?" Kurt asked, starting to feel a blush creep up his neck. Dave nodded, unable to hold back a large grin of amusement. "Well…now I feel stupid. And know far more about your sex life than I ever wanted to," Kurt muttered, feeling not only inordinately embarrassed but like an over-reacting drama queen of epic proportions. Hell, no wonder Dave was amused. Mercedes probably was as well, she just had years more practise at hiding it.

"It's okay…my so called friends are probably going to discuss that over dinner anyway. But do you normally uh… react this way to thinking a gay guy is with a woman?"

Kurt frowned. He wasn't a teenager anymore, he wasn't even in his twenties. He had matured. Or he'd liked to have thought he had. Although my actions in the last few minutes surely throw that theory out the window. He let out a soft sigh and decided to blurt it out. It would get easier. He knew it would. Mercedes had come closer and enveloped him in a hug, eyes darting warily between the two men.

"His ex is sleeping with his ex – um, that's confusing," Mercedes started to explain and Kurt smiled a little.

"I have an... ex boyfriend, Alex, who cheated on me with one of his ex-boyfriends, Marcus. Marcus happens to be married, to a woman, Cassie, and they have a child together. I've apparently now got issues with bisexual men who marry women and then cheat on them with my boyfriend because together they're home wreckers. And then lie to their wife and let their ex move in."

"What?" Mercedes squawked.

"Yeah, Alex is now staying with Marcus and Cassie. Got that e-mail in the car on the way here..."

Mercedes started muttering under her breath about the idiocy of people in general and what body parts she'd like to string up as decorations. Dave's eyes widened at the clear descriptors and he glanced at Kurt.

"Um, you don't have to answer if you don't want, but how ex is your ex? I mean, how long ago did you break up?"

"Uh… four days ago."

"Ouch. That sucks. Sorry man…"

"It's fine, I just don't know if I can handle a roomful of loved up people right now."

"Huh – that would be why you ran then, not because you're scared of me?"

"Scared of you?" Kurt replied, looking at him in disbelief. Mercedes was looking amused. "Uh, Dave, I stopped being scared of you when you had to wear that ridiculous beret and walk me from class to class. Anyone willing to look that stupid is not someone I'm going to be afraid of. You and Karen just... made me think of Alex and Marcus."

"Oh. Really? Um. Okay. Well then. So… there are only three couples, just come back and imagine them all wearing those stupid fucking red berets," Dave paused then, his expression changing slightly. "I promise we can throw bread rolls at them if they start getting too disgusting."

Kurt huffed in amusement but couldn't help a small grin at the sudden image that that conjured and nodded, following Dave back into his apartment building, feeling slightly better, shooting a quick look at Mercedes. He felt like such a drama queen right then, but his churning stomach had started to calm already.

"You throw anything at me and you will know pain..." Mercedes stated, a finger poking Kurt in his side.

---

"Thank goodness you're back! The oven started beeping, and I wasn't sure if I was meant to put things in, or take things out. I was about to phone –" Karen exclaimed as Dave, Kurt and Mercedes re-entered the apartment.

"Karen, relax. Get Kurt and Mercedes a drink and I'll take back my kitchen," Dave stated, cutting her off. Karen looked relieved and turned to Kurt.

"What'll you have?"

"Uh, I think I'll stick with water for now…" Kurt replied. He caught Mercedes' eye and gave her a small smile and nod before following Dave
through to the kitchen, leaving Mercedes to organise a drink, find Mike and be introduced to his friends. Kurt would ease himself into the
social setting, right now he'd prefer a more quiet setting to gather his thoughts and socialise. Dave was a good place to start. And this way Kurt can avoid the roomful of strangers who may or may not have heard about his abrupt departure.

"Uh, sorry about kicking you," Kurt said, eyes on the floor in embarrassment. Dave's gentle snort, shrug of the shoulders and shake of the head show Kurt he's taken no offence. Kurt thinks that maybe Dave believes he's somehow beholden to Kurt, for the bullying in high school, despite past apologies.

"So, how do you know Mike?" Kurt asked, almost physically shaking past musing from his head as he watched Dave move assuredly around the kitchen, moving dishes around in the oven and then sliding a tray of what looked like little pastries in.

"College. We played hockey together. Then he went to Maryland to specialise, we stayed in touch, and then he moved here about three years ago. Most of the people here tonight are his friends, and we have quite a few friends in common. We play on a casual football team together with Adrian and Keegan."

"Am I going to be eating dinner with a bunch of jocks?" Kurt asks, and he can't deny the slightly flirty tone in his voice. According to Mercedes he's a natural flirt, but he thinks LA has corrupted him with the level of fakeness that some people layer on themselves in an attempt to protect themselves. Kurt adapted to it easily enough when he moved there just under ten years ago, but sometimes struggles to put it aside when he doesn't need it.

"I'd like to think we're a bit beyond those stereotypes. Adrian is a doctor, and Keegan is an accountant. And between Mike, Mercedes and me you know a quarter of the dinner party already," Dave stated, brushing little basket looking things with a glaze of some sort. Kurt hummed in agreement, quietly fascinated and impressed at the ease at which Dave moved around his kitchen.

They hadn't been close friends in their final year of high school, but they had become friends of a sort, and quite frankly anything had been an improvement on the first two and a half years of their high school animosity. Kurt had struggled with Dave's persistent reluctance to come out, and it wasn't until now that Kurt could fully appreciate how much of an ass he'd been.

Dave had come out to his parents in high school, apparently with the sole purpose to shut his father up about finding another 'nice girl like Santana', if what Dave had told Kurt was accurate. At the time Kurt hadn't been sure what to be more stunned about, the fact that Dave had actually come out to his parents, or the fact that Paul Karofsky thought Santana was nice.

"So what do you do now? I haven't seen your name up in lights," Dave said, and the gentle tease in his tone took out any possible sting.

"You obviously haven't been looking close enough. I –" Kurt was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. The doorbell rang again quickly afterward and Kurt noted the same calculating look on Dave's face and heard a muffled 'impatient bitch' muttered under his breath. Calculating look gone, Dave turned on a charming smile. Kurt's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"What?"

"Do you mind getting the door?" Dave asked, still smiling and making himself look busy with numerous dishes. Kurt rolled his eyes and headed to the front door again and pulled it open.

"Hi, I'm –"

"If you're Mike's new girlfriend then I think Mike needs his eyes checked," Santana stated, her eyes travelling up and down Kurt before pushing past him to hang up a light jacket in the small coat cupboard.

"Santana?" Kurt couldn't believe it. He tried to get his head around the fact that Dave must have known who was at the door, but also that Dave and Santana are obviously still friends. Or something.

"Yes, it's me. Kurt, this is Kate, my girlfriend. Kate, this is Kurt. I had the unfortunate task of being one of his friends in high school."

"Wait. What? We weren't friends in high school. We – wait. Girlfriend?" Kurt asks, a bit stunned. In his mind, he'd kind of frozen Santana in time, with her almost obsessive-like love of Brittany.

"Hi," a willowy blonde greets, and Kurt can't help but notice the similarities to Brittany. No surprises there. She looked sweet, and Kurt's fairly certain he heard an English accent in the one word she has spoken so far.

Throwing propriety out the window Kurt grinned wildly and threw his arms around Santana in a hug, inordinately pleased suddenly to see her, bitchiness and all. Santana patted him awkwardly on the back and tried to extract herself, finally stabbing the sharp pointed heel of her shoe onto his toes. Kurt let go with an undignified squawk of alarm, glares at her, and then quickly hugs her again.

"Are you Dave's side piece? If you are, it's a bit… dysfunctional. Probably works for you though."

"Fuck it's good to see you. Still a complete bitch too," Kurt muttered, grinning. And it was good to see her. They'd not stayed in touch except for occasionally making sarcastic comments on each other's Facebook pages, but Kurt feels like a sudden weight has been lifted. Mercedes might consol him with wine and chocolate, Santana would offer to go out and cut his balls off and actually mean it. And suddenly  he's reminded of Cassie again. He's pretty sure that if they were ever introduced some sort of implosion would occur.

"Hey Satan, I see you've met our surprise guest…" Dave stated, giving Santana a quick peck on the cheek and Kurt wondered how the hell he gets away with that.

"I really wish you wouldn't call her that," Kate murmured and Kurt knew then that it's definitely an English accent now. Like he knows now (via Mercedes) that for some reason Mike's almost-accent is Scottish.

"I'm sorry Princess, but I've been around longer than you have," Dave replied, giving Kate a quick peck as well.

"I know, but it only encourages her," Kate stated, walking past them and into the lounge, and Kurt can't help but be reminded again of Brittany and the slightly head-in-clouds approach to the world. It makes him wonder what Brittany is up to now, and whether Santana knows. Or even cares. He's missed a bit of conversation, and hears Santana threaten Dave with her spiked heel before she stalks away into what Kurt assumed was the living room, judging from the level of conversation coming from the archway.

He can hear Santana's voice in the next room "Oh for fucks sake, what is this? A mini-McKinley high reunion?" This is followed by Mercedes' excited squeal and Kurt can't help but grin, knowing Santana is probably in for another surprise hug-attack.

"You knew it was her at the door," Kurt stated and Dave nodded.

"Last to arrive, and now you know almost half the people at the table. Can't be too bad, huh? I'm pretty sure she wears those heels on purpose so she always has a weapon handy."

Kurt has to agree, on all accounts. It's gone from a dinner where he potentially knew just Mercedes (and Mike if he's feeling generous), to an almost dinner-with-friends type feel to it. All he needs now is for Blaine or Rachel to turn up and the evening would become surreal.

"Also, Santana and Kate get disgustingly handsy when they've had too much to drink..." Dave added with a wicked grin and Kurt smiled back in bemusement, feeling like he's slipped into a slightly altered reality. But Santana mentioning Kurt being Dave's side piece, something he failed to deny, has just made him realise that Dave must be out. Kurt wondered how far out.

"Are you out at work?" Kurt asked, and he's immediately mortified. Not only is it none of his business, but he feels like he's parroting his seventeen year old self. Again. And he hadn't meant to ask that at all, he just wanted to make sure there weren't going to be any more McKinley people popping up. Really. But Dave seems amused more than anything, and Kurt relaxes against the door jamb slightly.

"Kurt, I'm so out that work use me in their Equal Opportunity Employer pamphlets," Dave replied.

"It's true," Karen piped in, sliding past Kurt to get into the kitchen. "How far away are we from eating? Harry's already taken his shirt off. Apparently Tom let him have a couple of drinks before coming round. Won't be doing that again in a hurry," Karen remarked, hand slowly sneaking towards a platter of food.

"Touch that and I won't bring cake in on Monday," Dave states, and Karen grins at Kurt before poking her tongue out at Dave's back. "Anyway, I can't imagine Tom letting Harry do anything. That boy makes me feel ancient."

"You can't threaten me with lack of cake, it's my birthday on Monday. Anyway, Harry's only seven years younger than you. You're just a stick-in-the-mud. Have to admit though, the view is nice. Not very often I get the chance to perv on nubile twenty-six year old men..." Karen threw a wink at Kurt then, and Kurt realised that she might be, just maybe, deliberately trying to wind Dave up. He thinks he likes her.

---

"Is all of this going to get eaten?" Kurt asked, looking at the multitude of dishes spread in front of him. Spanish tapas apparently, lots of small fiddly looking dishes that Kurt had been helping move from the oven to the large square dining room table. There are twelve different dishes, some varying in size and amounts, but all vastly different. Kurt is eyeing the chilli and lime marinated seafood kebabs with interest.

"Yep. And there's desert afterwards as well..."

"I'll just go and gather the horde," Karen said, heading towards the living room.

People are filing into the room, one guy tugging a t-shirt over his head so Kurt assumed that must be Harry. There doesn't seem to be any order in which everyone is sitting at the table, and Kurt is unsurprised when Karen pushes him to sit and she takes the seat next to him.

The food, drinks and conversation flow around the table and Kurt listens, content to keep quiet and let the lives of these people surround him. Especially seeing as when he opens his mouth he seems to loose 15 years in maturity. Harry is complaining (again, apparently this is something he complains about frequently) how his mother named him after Harry Potter, and how she obviously hates him for inflicting such a hideous name on him. Kurt notes the numerous eye rolls around the table. He's trying to get people to call him Alex.

He learns that Tom is Mike's older brother; they both speak with an almost Scottish accent because they lived there until Mike finished high school. Tom has been with Harry for five years, and Kurt smothers, as best he can, the resentment at seeing such an obviously happy couple. Although they make a slightly odd couple. Tom is an architect, comes across as very calm, collected and with it. Harry on the other hand had apparently finished his masters in computer science and decided he hates the discipline and wants to work as an office manager, where he can boss people around.

Adrian, Christine and Kate have been talking about something that happened at work, and Mike has been busy trying to shut them up, saying he doesn't want to think about work tonight. He's not very successful, Christine, older than most of them by at least a decade, keeps shushing him. Apparently she has three teenage sons, 'four if I count Mike!' Mike mumbles about already having a mother and not needing another one, but again it's clear there is a close bond there.

Mercedes is charming throughout, asking questions and talking about her own work as a music therapist and teacher. She mentions she loves children, and Adrian informs her he has 'four of the blighters', and she can have them any time she wants. However it's clear he loves his kids when he brings out his wallet and shows off multiple pictures of a little four-year old girl and three children that have apparently just turned two. He explains that the triplets are why they moved back to the USA from Canada, his home country. His wife Anna has all her family here, and they need all the support they can get.

Kurt watches Santana and Kate with open curiosity. Kate is open in her displays of affection, frequently reaching over to kiss Santana on  the cheek. The number of kisses returned increase in number and length the longer the dinner progresses. Dave catches Kurt's eye and holds up a bread roll, quirking an eyebrow and Kurt shakes his head. Weirdly enough, he likes seeing Santana happy. Apparently she's an attorney now, and Kurt imagines she's damn good at her job. He sure as hell wouldn't want to face her in a court room.

Kate has spent a good portion of the meal convincing everyone that the letter K is clearly superior to the other letters of the alphabet, and cites Kurt, Karen and Keegan's presence at the table to prove how one day they'll rule the world. Santana looks amused, and Mercedes adds that Karofsky needs to be counted as a K as well.

That spins into another conversation as to why exactly Dave was called Karofsky so much in high school, and Dave informs them that there were four Davids in his class in middle school, and the teacher called them David, Dave, Karofsky and Theobald to differentiate between them, and Karofsky just stuck. This starts a discussion about teachers in general, and with each other to back each other up, Kurt, Mercedes, Dave and Santana regale the others with amusing stories regarding Sue Sylvester. Mike is equal parts gobsmacked and fascinated, telling Mercedes that while he'd heard some of the stories before, he was fairly certain Dave and Santana had been trying to fool him.

The food is down to small pieces left on each plate, and Kurt takes the last seafood kebab with fake reluctance when Karen shoves the plate in front of him. Keegan, who Kurt had noticed kept almost as quiet as him, had started clearing plates, but not before laying a hand on Dave's shoulder and smiling down at him. Dave smiled back and Kurt wonders at the history between them, because there is definitely something there. It seems keeping fairly quiet and not drinking have entitled him back some years of maturity to not blurt out questions across the room.

Table cleared and cleaned they all move lethargically back into the living room, and Keegan places a large platter of cut fruit and chocolates on the coffee table amidst groans of complaint that nothing more will fit in already over stretched stomachs. He calls them all idiots for not leaving room, before settling himself on the floor within easy reaching distance of the platter. Kurt has commandeered a large wingback chair, and he's curled his legs beneath him, shoes slid under the chair.

He studies the room, a large canvas print of a photo of a vineyard in autumn takes up almost an entire wall, other black and white portrait
photos of people Kurt doesn't recognise are hung on the side wall forming a collective piece of art in itself, and behind Kurt is a floor to ceiling bookcase filled with numerous books, but also knick-knacks that surely have some significance. He resists the urge to fossick through the books and study the knick-knacks and instead turns his attention back to the people in the room to find them all looking at him.

"What? Did I spill something?" Kurt asked, quickly glancing down at his still pristine white shirt, which only many years of practise have kept clean.

"Keegan just asked what you do…" Mercedes stated, amused.

"Uh," Kurt pauses. It's been so long since he's been in the company of people who don't know who he is and what he does for a living. "I design clothes. Costumes. I'm a costume designer," he says, and he cringes at the words tumbling out of his mouth in such a nonsensical manner. He hasn't had a single drink, so has nothing to even make an excuse of. He blushes slightly and cringes inwardly at the fact that he's blushing again in as many hours.

"That must be fascinating. So do you do stage stuff?" Christine asks, and her interest seems genuine.

"Um, actually I mainly do movies. I do the occasional piece for the stage, but very rarely." In actuality Kurt's become so well known and sought after that he can pick and choose which projects he thinks are interesting, or will be a challenge creatively. And the only stage pieces he's made in the last five years have all been at the behest (or demand rather) of one Rachel Berry, who tells him that only the best can dress her. He just wishes she'd dress better off the stage, but when she calls him the best, he forgives her many things.

"He's also being modest," Mercedes states, eyeing him over her wine glass. "He won an Oscar last year."

That statement makes Christine demand to know for which movie, and Kurt is drawn into a gushing conversation with Christine, Karen and, surprisingly, Adrian. The others seem interested, so Kurt talks, slightly embarrassed, about the process of design, story boards, fabric swatches, fitting celebrities. He supposes it all sounds very glamorous, but he doesn't mention the gruelling hours, the costumes which are created and then vetoed, the catty celebrities that treat him like a second rate citizen. Having to deal with fabric wholesalers, trying to find the exact type of fixture for a period dress, doing screen-tests with fabrics and realising that under the lights it just won't work. There are many aspects of his job which he could do without, but the creating side, he would never give that up.

He lists all the movies he has been involved with, and when he states how has just got back from London Kate gets ridiculously excited (it's her home town apparently) and thankfully the conversation veers away from Kurt's job and instead is now centring around travel, worst and best travel experiences, and ridiculous situations people have found themselves in.

Kurt is surprised to learn that Dave seems to have travelled quite a lot, judging from the anecdotes he is sharing. And Kurt can't help himself, but he's curious. He wants to know more about what Dave is like now. However, down that path lies madness. He is fresh out of a four-year relationship, and his life is a four hour flight away. So friends. He's interested in being friends with Dave. And it means when he comes to Chicago he'll have someone else to hang out with. Friends. He can do that.

Harry is lying on his back, arms and legs splayed from making a 'carpet angel' and over the top of everyone talking declares that he wants his name to be Kelly, so he can join the other Ks in their plan for world domination. Tom takes this as a sign to go home while Harry is still
capable of standing upright, and Karen, Christine and Adrian also all leave, Karen and Adrian saying they'll have early mornings with the kids tomorrow, where as Christine interjects a "screw the kids! I'm too old for this shit. I just need my bed!" And then it is just the seven of them. Four William McKinley High School alumni, Mike, Keegan and Kate.

Santana makes some pithy comment about scaring all the straights away, and Kurt catches Mike's eye roll. Mike probably knows Santana better than he does now anyway. He's curious as to who they might still be in contact with. Not so much Dave, because he doubts Dave has kept in contact with anyone other than Santana that Kurt would care to know about, but Santana has always been…hard to read.

"Just ask Kurt, I can hear your brain over thinking something," Mercedes says, and Kurt bites his lip. Her brain-mouth filter disappears when she's had more than two glasses of wine and it reminds Kurt of her teenage self.

"I was just wondering if you were still in touch with anyone, from high school I mean," Kurt adds the end of the sentence quickly, before Santana makes some comment about always being in touch with someone.

"Yeah, I see Brittany occasionally. She works at Disneyland. She was Cinderella for a few years. She married Artie and they have a little
girl called Jasmine. Artie does something boring with something."

"That narrows it down," Mercedes mutters sarcastically, but Kurt's heart clenches a bit at Santana's either disinterest in Artie, or a deep
rooted dislike of the man who, apparently, still holds the heart of her first love.

"So they're in California then, I'll have to try and catch up with them," Kurt said, and even while he's saying it he knows he probably won't.

"And what about you? Who are you in touch with?" Santana asks.

"Well, Finn obviously. He's good. Married to a nice woman called Melanie. He's an auto-electrician, works with my dad. One kid, and another on the way. Rachel's on Broadway. Of course. Blaine's in New York as well, working as a music director. Uh, Puck's a history teacher, Tina designs fabric and Mike's a fresh water biologist," Kurt supplies, and that's it really. Lives summed up in a sentence.

He doesn't know what has happened to Quinn, Lauren, or Sam. And the new comers to glee club in his senior year had little to no impact on him that he's really not interested in where they are now. Now that he's thinking of Quinn, Lauren and Sam though he wonders what they're up to.

"Lauren's a photographer, she does a lot of work for the National Geographic," Dave states, and the smirk on his face shows that he's pleased to know something about one of their high school friends which they don't.

"How do you know that?" Mercedes asks, beating Kurt to the question.

"My last boyfriend was a photographer. He knew Lauren. They'd met at a few prize giving things and stuff. They're pretty close, as colleagues I suppose. She's still got an attitude. She likes photography because she doesn't have to deal with too many idiots on a day-to-day basis."

"That does sound like Lauren," Mercedes murmurs.

Kurt however is studying the photos on the wall with a renewed interest, wondering if the ex-boyfriend was the man behind the camera. He asks for directions to the bathroom, and Dave directs him down the corridor. Kurt goes, padding in his socks. The hallway is lit, and Dave has given him an excuse to look at more of the photos on the walls. 'Just look for the door with a picture of a bath on it' means he doesn't feel so bad about studying the photos that adorn each door way.

The photos are all black and white, and Kurt isn't an expert, but he's fairly sure that they're the same style as those in the lounge. On one door is a picture of Dave holding a baby with three children and he wonders what on earth could be behind that door, and who the kids are. Opposite is the bathroom photo bedecked door, but Kurt finds himself drawn to the other three doors, his curiosity spiking again. A photo of a made up bed makes Kurt think it's probably a guest room, the other a photo of the children again, this time playing with sheets, and Kurt determines probably a laundry cupboard.

The last photo is also of a bed, however the naked man asleep in it has Kurt biting his lip. There's nothing obscene in the photo, a sheet covers most of the lower half, one leg is thrown out, and he's holding a pillow over his face. The shoulders are broad, chest strong and defined, but not in the way hours in the gym produce. There is a fine cover of hair and it narrows down to a treasure trail that disappears underneath the sheet.

Kurt's fingers itch. He wants to be able to draw the sheet away and just look. He's learnt a lot in the last fifteen years, and that includes the fact that he likes masculine bodies in bed, not a lean coltish body like his own. And this body ticks all his boxes. And then some. He realises then that he's still chewing his lip, it feels swollen, and his attention-starved cock is slowly filling. Groaning quietly Kurt mentally
chastises himself. It may have been nearly four weeks, but he's not going to jerk off in Dave Karofsky's bathroom.

And then Kurt looks at the photo in front of him again, and realises that that man lying there has to be Dave. The same Dave who has shown him compassion about his recent break-up. The same Dave who had hefted a bread roll with serious intent to lob it at Santana at Kurt's word. The same Dave who has been smiling and charming all night. And apparently looks like this naked. He'd lied to himself. He is going to jerk off in Dave Karofsky's bathroom.

---

Kurt closes the bathroom door, resting his back against the closed door, heart racing like he's being chased. He can't believe he is seriously considering getting himself off, right here and right now. He knows that he'll need to be quick, but also knows that it's been four weeks, so quick won't be a problem. Being able to stop laughing hysterically when he sees Dave again might be.

Still not believing that's he's actually going to do this, he tugs down the zip on his jeans, other hand taking tissues from a box beside the taps. His cock has been steadily filling and getting harder, obviously thrilled at even the slightest amount of thought or attention Kurt is
finally throwing its way. Double checking that the door is definitely locked, he pulls his underwear and jeans to his knees. He can't risk
getting come on them, because that would be a dead giveaway.

He spits roughly into his hand, the sound loud in the quiet of the bathroom, and he bites back another groan at how absolutely filthy he feels right now. Hand encircling his cock he grasps firmly, but not tight enough to stave off coming. Time is of the essence. The feel of flesh on flesh, even if it is his own, has been too long, and he doesn't have time to cast about for elaborate fantasies to help himself along. All he's thinking of is of being in that picture, lying in a bed after being thoroughly fucked.

His mind feels over stimulated, providing images from nowhere of Dave below him, above him, around him. Hot searing kisses, the coarse feel of stubble against lips, fingers dragging down his back. Fuck. Kurt feels his orgasm approaching fast, the warm tight feeling starting in his stomach, feeling like it's dragging his entire body into a small tight ball before it explodes with energy.

"Fuck…" Kurt moans as he comes, quietly he hopes.

He swears to never go that long without getting off again, because no way in hell did he just have one of the best orgasms of his life. On second thoughts, maybe he will go that long, if that type of orgasm is the end result. He rests his head against the tile wall for a brief moment, getting his breathing back to normal. Patting his face with some water he then tidies up, meticulously washing his hands and ensuring the bathroom doesn't look any different. The fact that he just got off in David Karofsky's bathroom, to thoughts and images of Dave Karofsky himself has made him feel different. He just isn't sure quite how.

---

"Sorry, got distracted by the other photos in the hallway," Kurt says, hoping he comes off as nonchalant, as he re-enters the lounge. He can't help but glance over at Dave, and he knows his cheeks are still flushed, however Dave avoids looking him in the eye, and looks a bit flushed as well. Kurt wonders what he's missed.

"Are you ready to go? We want to make church tomorrow," Mercedes supplies, and Kurt admires her devotion. She's not a morning person, and with the hangover she'll be toting, he's going to try his best to avoid her tomorrow until at least two in the afternoon, which is now only twelve hours away. Maybe he'll avoid her until Monday.

Kurt's mind is buzzing, tired. He hears Dave telling Keegan he can just stay the night, rather than getting a cab. Mike vetoes that with an offer of a ride home for Keegan, who accepts. Watches Santana and Mercedes hug, and watches Kate hug everyone. Apparently she becomes friendly with everyone when she's a bit drunk.

Hears Dave ask him how long he's in Chicago, but Mercedes answer for him. Tells him she'll text him Kurt's number from Mike's phone so they can organise getting together for drinks or something. His mind is barely alert enough to shout No! No! No! but is ignored. Drinks with Dave might prove interesting anyhow, and he might get a few answers to some of the questions that have popped into his head tonight.

He says goodbye in a daze, and he must look shattered, because Mercedes is gently ushering him towards the parked car. He doesn't even remember leaving the building. Keegan and Mike are talking about football practise tomorrow afternoon. As he settles himself in the back of the car his head hits the headrest and he realises he still really needs to pee.

TBC...