Tree without Blossom - Chapter 20b/20
Feb. 11th, 2012 05:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sunmontueRating: M/NC-17
Word count: ~11,500 words for this chapter (~125,000 overall)
Warnings: None that the rating doesn't cover already
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.
Author's note: Thanks for all the reviews and alerts and favourites etc. This is the last chapter. Then an epilogue. Then it’s over. Thanks for your reviews, alerts, favourites, understanding and encouragement. Thank you for putting up with my spelling, typos and confusion between bought and brought (I do know the difference, I just don’t type it!) I re-read this, and spotted so many errors, so thanks for being patient with me as I started out as a completely new writer. As always my gratitude to
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debraelq for helping me out.CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 4 CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6 CHAPTER 7 CHAPTER 8 CHAPTER 9 CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11 CHAPTER 12 CHAPTER 13 CHAPTER 14 CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16 CHAPTER 17 CHAPTER 18 CHAPTER 19 CHAPTER 20a
CHAPTER TWENTY – MARCH 2026 (part three "b")
Kurt’s confused. He’s fairly certain that Greg and Blaine are somehow exchanging insults, except it sounds like polite conversation about food. Dessert in particular. Greg had started off with some seemingly innocent comment to Blaine about him eating three desserts last night which had earnt Kurt a hurt look from Blaine, and he has no idea why. He’d tried to placate him be telling him he’d caught Greg eating chocolate frosting for breakfast, which Blaine had smirked at and then…this. A conversation he feels an outsider to. Like it’s in another language. He’d offered his opinion that his favourite dessert was tiramisu and the only good thing that had come from that was Blaine and Greg bonding over his complete obliviousness as to what they are actually talking about. They seem to be getting on fine though, despite Blaine’s dramatic exclamations last night to the contrary.
He kind of wants to go and have a nap, sleep off the rest of the sugar. He knows going for a run would be more beneficial, but Dave had gone swimming early this morning and he refuses to do that due to the amount of chlorine and the damage it does to his hair. Not to mention the fact that he can smell chlorine on his skin for days afterwards. Although he has been tempted to go a couple of times just to watch Dave power up and down a swimming lane. He smiles at the visual image.
“You look shattered. Why don’t you go and have a nap or something?” Blaine states, and he shakes himself, realising he’s actually dozed off. Or day dreamed.
“I…yeah. I think I might. Otherwise I’m not going to be able to stay awake during dinner tonight.”
He heads to the bedroom and toes off his shoes, a terrible habit which he can’t bring himself to care about right now. His attention is caught by the folder he’d noticed this morning, still sitting precariously on the corner of Dave’s bedside table. He’s never seen anything work related in Dave’s apartment before. He can tell it is work related because of the very obvious CPD logo in the centre of the folder, and there’s nothing else that could stand for. He’s torn about having a look. He knows he’s probably far too nosy for his own good, and this is likely to burn him given the work week Dave has had. He also knows if he asked that Dave would tell him what was in it. He decides to ignore it.
TWB
He wakes with a dry mouth and it feels difficult to breath. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and heads for the kitchen for a drink. He can hear Blaine and Greg talking, and it sounds like they’ve moved on from whatever their fixation about dessert was. He hears Blaine’s voice say something, and as he moves closer Greg’s reply is much clearer.
“Nah, Dave got completely screwed by the first guy he ever had a crush on… not that it would have ever worked out, I mean, from what I understand he was a complete arse to the guy. No one wants to go out with a wanker.”
“Some guys do. What was his name anyway?”
“Don’t know, just some out gay guy at high school…”
He freezes against the wall ala spy mode and his blood is pounding in his ears. It was him. When Greg had mentioned some guy attacking Dave’s self-esteem and doing a number… it was him. He feels a bit ill. He knows they’ve moved on from high school, but to find out that Dave used to, what? Love him? Or was it just a simple crush? He remembers Dave telling him about his first love. How… what was it he’d said? Something about starting from scratch or moving on… he wishes he could remember, because he’s fairly certain it’s now critically important.
“Um…you don’t know,” Blaine states, and Kurt wants to call out and tell him to shut the fuck up, because he doesn’t need Greg to know that he is the guy that apparently ruined Dave’s self-esteem so badly that Greg spent three years building it up.
“Know what?”
“It’s Kurt. Kurt and Dave went to high school together. Kurt was the only openly gay kid at their school…”
“Oh. Fuck. Really?”
Blaine must have nodded or spoken so quietly that he couldn’t hear him over the rushing in his ears.
“Crap. I told Kurt about…himself apparently… like on Tuesday. I didn’t know… Dave was like, obsessed with him.”
“I don’t think we should be talking about them anymore…”
“Why not? I think it’s great, that they’ve managed to overcome their past…”
“And yet yesterday you were all doom and gloom about the failure of long distance relationships.”
“Yeah. But if these guys can get over what passed between them back then, well, I guess it kind of bodes well.”
“Yes, I’m sure that you’re approval means a lot. But I think you’re forgetting the fact it all happened over fifteen years ago. They probably don’t even think about it.”
“That type of shared past? Of course they would.”
Another argument starts, and he’s pretty sure Greg is actually playing devil’s advocate, deliberately provoking Blaine, but he’s too busy processing what he’s just heard to pay any more attention.
He hates the idea that he’s somehow hurt Dave, even if it was fifteen years ago and is clearly evident that Dave’s has moved past it, even if, according to Greg, it took him a while. He doesn’t ever want to hurt Dave again. He remembers their toast to shitty things done in high school and smiles, suddenly feeling more relaxed. What Dave felt in high school isn’t important really, doesn’t change how he feels now. Unless he’s always been in love with Kurt, which would be slightly concerning. However he can’t help but feel a tiny thrill at the idea, although he doubts its validity. He takes a deep breath and strides forward, not caring if Blaine knows he’s been listening. Again.
“Hey guys…either of you want a drink? I woke up with dry mouth.”
Greg’s eyes are wide, he looks worried and Kurt tries to smile at him encouragingly, to tell him with his eyes that everything’s going to be okay. He’s fine with what he’s heard.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind a glass of wine,” Blaine states and Greg is nodding as well. It’s not exactly what he meant, but Dave’s wine collection is an extensive as his and he’s sure he can find a nice bottle that is easily replaceable. He downs a large class of water and then goes to the cupboard Dave uses as a wine cellar. He scans the caps and pulls out a bottle of Merlot, noting that there’s three others of the same vintage. Likely a favourite.
He grabs three glasses and heads back to the living room and Greg is still looking spooked. He opens the bottle and pours out three carefully measure glasses. It’s only three thirty in the afternoon, and Dave won’t be home for at least another two hours, the dinner booking is at eight, so they have plenty of time to kill.
“Relax. I heard what you guys were talking about before. I should have realised when we were talking about it earlier on in the week…”
“Uh…okay. I just… didn’t realise it was you that Dave was so… enamoured of back in high school.”
“Dave and I have already talked about that. It’s in our past. It’s not going to affect our future together.”
Greg looks like he’s about to say something but his mouth quickly snaps shut, head nodding as he reaches for a wine glass. They start a conversation about the wine, something seemingly innocuous, but as soon as Blaine says he prefers whites Greg mutters an ‘of course you do’ and Kurt just sits in bafflement as another round of bickering starts. He sits back and observes and he’s pretty sure they’re both actually enjoying themselves, and it kind of reminds him of Finn and Melanie, but he keeps his mouth wisely shut.
TWB
They’ve raided Dave’s snack supplies and have started the second bottle of wine. Greg has been telling them stories about Harry, which Blaine doesn’t believe until he adds a few stories of his own. Blaine will be meeting Harry tomorrow night, so they inform him he can form his own opinion. Greg mentions Santana and being terrified of her, and Kurt grins, telling him Santana was always a pretty scary woman, and not someone you messed with. Greg tells them the story of how Dave met Santana again, how she pretty much stalked him before declaring him a completely incompetent cop. Greg’s equally fascinated by stories of their high school days, saying that he left high school early to model, so missed out on the last two years of school.
“I should have made the connection you know. I remember way back in August Dave e-mailing me and telling me that Mike’s new girlfriend was someone he went to high school with. And I know she’s your best friend. I just didn’t make the connection.” Kurt shrugs, unconcerned. “It’s kind of cool how quite a few of you Lima guys have ended up here though, Chicago’s a nice city.”
“Yeah, it’s really starting to grow on me.”
“That’s good, because Dave would never be happy anywhere but Chicago. You know that right?”
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not asking him to leave isn’t it,” Kurt replies sharply. He doesn’t need Greg’s opinions any more than he needs Blaine’s. They’re fine without everyone sticking their noses in and offering their two cents. His phone chooses then to vibrate, and he realises he hasn’t turned the sound back on since his visual conference call with Vicky hours ago.
How’s your day going?
Dave. He grins, and he doesn’t care that he only saw him that morning, he likes knowing that Dave thinks about him during the day, enough to warrant taking the time to send him a quick message.
Good. B and G are eating all your snacks and drinking all your wine.
You aren’t helping them at all huh? Kurt laughs and types his response.
Definitely not. ;)
“God, you two are so ridiculously in love it’s sickening. I mean, you saw him this morning, going to see him in less than an hour, and yet here you are exchanging text messages looking all dopey…”
“Fuck off,” Kurt says, waving his hand in Greg’s general direction before realising he’s holding a glass of wine in that hand. He overcorrects halfway through the wave and he knows it’s going to happen. Shit. Red wine. White shirt. He plucks at the now wet fabric and glances down at the sofa. At least that’s leather and will just wipe off. He places the glass on the coffee table and shoots a dirty look at Blaine who is snickering. Greg is hiding a smile in his wine glass as well, Kurt would swear to it. He gets a cloth from the kitchen, quickly wiping up the spilled wine and checks the carpet. Nothing fortunately. His shirt though is possibly ruined, although he’ll likely just dye it another colour rather than actually throwing it out. He returns the cloth to the kitchen and informs the other two he’s going to have a shower and change. He can soak the shirt in the shower and assess the damage there.
“You know the best way to get red wine out? White wine. I once broke two bottles of red wine on my cream carpet, so then poured two bottles of white on…my place smelled like vinegar for a month,” he hears Greg inform Blaine, and at least they’re getting on better than before.
He unbuttons his shirt as he walks down the hallway, eyes on the drying stain. He doesn’t really mind the stain, only because it’s one of his older shirts, but it’s one of his more comfortable ones. Which is why he’ll consider dying it. Not something to wear to work, but around home he definitely wants to keep it around. He undoes the cuffs and slips it off his shoulders as he walks to the bathroom.
He’s not focussing on much else, but he hears the slither of paper as it hits the floor. He’s brushed the folder off the bedside table. He kneels and gathers up the pieces of paper, some of them thicker and stapled together at the corner and he’s deliberately trying not to look at what any of the text could be but when ‘LA’ jumps out at him several times he pauses and takes a closer look, feeling guilty while he does so but he can’t help himself.
It’s a flight schedule, flights to and from Chicago from various airports to various airports in LA. Costs. Times. He picks up the next piece; car rental. The next; accommodation in LA. What the fuck? His heart starts racing and his breathing becomes shallow. He reaches for the next pile of paper and it’s thicker. It’s a job contract. Fuck. It’s not that he doesn’t like the idea of Dave in LA with him full time, but he’s pretty sure the Dave he’s fallen in love with would cease to exist there. Greg was right earlier when he said that Dave would never be happy anywhere but Chicago.
He can’t let Dave do this. He can’t let him leave everything he loves behind in Chicago just to be with him. He can’t deal with the pressure that that puts on him. On their relationship. He’s swinging between panic and anger. Because why the hell hasn’t Dave talked to him about this? He wonders if Greg knew; if that’s what all the tip-toeing around how Dave wouldn’t be happy anywhere but here… He feels numb and shaky, his stomach clenching. He has to break up with him. He can’t let Dave leave Chicago.
TWB
Greg is looking worried. That’s the first thing he notices when he gets home. The second thing he notices is Blaine, who is lying on the ground staring up at the giant photographic print of a vineyard in autumn. He quirks an eyebrow at Greg who just shrugs and rolls his eyes, like this is somehow normal behaviour. He notes the empty bottles of wine alongside the empty bags of chips, nuts, chocolate chips and dried fruit. Kurt hadn’t been kidding when he said they’d been eating all his snacks.
“Where’s Kurt?”
“Uh, he’s in your room. He’s been in there a while.”
“Meh. He’ll just be freaking out about the wine stain on his shirt,” Blaine mutters. “Hey Dave.”
“Hey. Enjoying the view?”
“Mmm. It’s a very nice picture. Where’d you get it?”
Dave doesn’t bother trying to hold back his huff of amusement.
“It was a gift. From Greg. Who was very egotistical and thought I’d like it.”
“Shut up. You do like it.”
“Did you take this shot?”
“Gee, don’t sound so surprised. I told you I photograph wineries.”
“It’s actually good.”
“Talk about damning me with faint praise…”
Dave leaves them bickering to go and find Kurt. He’s so glad that his week at work is over and that Kurt is here. He can rest and recharge his batteries, build up his reserves of feel-good moments that enable him to get through the weeks like he’s just managed to survive. He pushes the door open and freezes. Bags. Open bags on the bed and Kurt is packing. For some reason he’s shirtless, which he finds distracting for a moment before zeroing back in on the bags.
“What…what are you doing?” His voice catches in his throat and he’s terrified that it’s exactly what it looks like.
“Dave. I…I can’t do this. You belong here. Your whole life is here, and I have to be in LA and… fuck this sucks…”
He’s suddenly crying, messy hot tears streaking down his face, body collapsing to the bed amidst a pile of clothes and Dave stares at him, unsure what to say. He goes and kneels at Kurt’s feet, stares up at him, tries to figure this out.
“I thought we’d already talked about this…could make it work. Wanted to make it work.”
His mind is scrambling furiously. Less than an hour ago Kurt was texting him, teasing, happy. What the hell has happened? What has Greg said?
“You can’t leave Chicago…”
“I don’t have any plans to leave Chicago…”
Kurt’s face hardens and eyes flash dangerously as he pulls back.
“Do not lie to me David Karofsky. You know more than most people how I feel about lying.”
He’s confused, and getting a bit defensive and annoyed. He hasn’t lied but the look on Kurt’s face tells him he believes otherwise.
“What exactly am I meant to be lying about?”
“Your plans to move to LA!”
“I…I don’t have plans to move to LA.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me Dave! I saw it!” Kurt screams, and Dave’s reminded of the slightly irrational Kurt he was confronted with when they met again for the first time after so many years. He really wants to scream back, really wants to fight fire with fire. Instead he reaches up and threads fingers in to Kurt’s hair on either side of his head and kisses him. It’s hard and bruising, and he puts all his frustration with not knowing what the fuck Kurt is talking about in to it.
Kurt is pushing back at him, fingers scraping at his shirt and he groans. Too over dressed. He releases one of his hands from Kurt’s hair to tug at his tie, pulling it free easily and letting it fall to the floor before starting work on his buttons. Kurt’s hand are pulling his shirt from his pants, going to his belt buckle quickly. Their lips and teeth are still battling, biting and nipping until Dave’s sure that his lips look twice their normal size, teeth clacking violently and then he feels Kurt’s fingernails dig into his back and he groans, arching into the sensation and pulling away from Kurt’s mouth.
“We need to talk…” Kurt gasps and Dave snorts. Yeah right.
“This first…”
“What about…Greg and…Blaine…?”
Fuck. He’d forgotten about them, and he hasn’t even shut the door and he’s pretty sure that is he stops what he’s doing he’ll be back to square one, Kurt will retreat even further for whatever reason. He’s not going to let that happen.
“Screw them. They can watch if they need to, but they can’t join in…”
“I…what?” Kurt asks, and there’s a small smile on his lips and he feels a swell of victory in his chest. Not everything is lost if he can still make Kurt smile like that.
“I’ll tell you later, next year, on our anniversary… just not now.”
He pushes Kurt back so he’s lying on the bed, runs his hands down his thighs and admires the feel of firm muscle beneath his hands. He mouths Kurt’s cock through the material, breathes hot warm air through his pants while he undoes the button and zipper. He’s determined to remind Kurt of everything good they have together, and if he has to do this everyday for the rest of his life then he will.
He tugs Kurt’s pants down, mouth not moving from his cock and he struggles with his own pants and underwear, kicking his shoes off awkwardly from his half-kneeling, half-sitting position. He’s naked and he hopes like hell that Greg and Blaine have enough sense to stay in the fucking living room. Or better still, go out. He looks up to find Kurt watching him, propped up on an elbow, eyes dark with desire, but Dave can tell he’s still angry. But he’s screwed if he knows what about.
He licks his lips, eyes not leaving Kurt’s as he lowers his head back down to his cock and he licks up his length slowly. He can feel the increasing warmth as blood flow increases and he hums, pleased. He takes Kurt’s cock into his mouth and sucks gently, eyes not leaving Kurt’s as he feels his cock fill in his mouth. He bobs his head, tongue swirling around the head and Kurt lets out a little whimper and his hips twitch and Dave knows he has him.
He slides his mouth off the head of Kurt’s cock and starts kissing a trail upwards, over his stomach, nipping at his bellybutton, flicking and then nipping each nipple with his tongue, teeth and then scraping his cheek across the raised nub, which like always gets an appreciative gasp. His hand encircles Kurt’s cock, stroking firmly. Kurt is still watching him, eyes still angry, but his mouth is open, lips gleaming and swollen. His own cock has been half-hard since Kurt tried to scratch his way through his shirt, and he’s pretty sure he’ll have faint red marks from the burn of the fabric on his chest. He moves to straddle Kurt’s thighs, moving so he can work their cocks together for a moment while he gets an answer that he needs.
“Do you love me?”
“Fuck you Dave.” Dave continues to stare at him, doesn’t stop his hand stroking their cocks, waits for Kurt to answer. “You know I do.” It’s said begrudgingly, Kurt sullen, but he feels infinitely relieved at the words regardless.
“Good. I love you too…”
He lets go of their cocks and lowers his head to kiss him again. The exchange of words seems to have made Kurt angrier and he can’t help but feel perversely pleased by that when Kurt rakes his nails up his back with a viciousness he’s never expressed before. He groans and thrusts down, rubbing their cocks together forcefully, and the friction feels good. Kurt is almost chewing on his bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and nipping it with his teeth repeatedly, his hips thrusting against his.
He feels Kurt’s hands on his arse, fingertips digging in so hard he’s pretty sure he can feel every single crescent of fingernail. He settles himself on one arm and with his other runs a hand through Kurt’s hair before gripping firmly and twisting his head so he can lick his neck, finding the one little point which is extra sensitive and flicking his tongue over it repeatedly until Kurt is bucking up against him almost frantically. He presses back against him, his own hips snapping down.
They haven’t had sex since Monday morning, since his whole week turned to shit. Sex has been the last thing on his mind, although he has used it in the past as a form of physical release, or comfort, or both. He hasn’t needed to do that with Kurt, just holding him has bought about a sense of calm, enabled him to sleep better at night without working himself into a fit of exhaustion every single night, although he doubts Kurt knows that.
Whatever weird-arse idea Kurt has got into his head, he’s going to make him forget it. He moves back to a sitting position and swings a leg over, and before tugging Kurt over on to his stomach he licks the line of his hip bones, three broad swipes of his tongue that have Kurt swearing at him and almost thrashing. He tugs Kurt over and up in to a kneeling position, and he’s a bit disappointed he can’t see his eyes, but wants this more right now. He doesn’t waste time, has no idea when Kurt might decide to pull the plug, so simply spreads his arse cheeks and licks a broad stripe. He can feel the scrape of his stubble against the cheeks, but Kurt is moaning and thrusting back so he does it again. ‘Fucking hell, god yes…’ Again. He grips the cheeks apart, holding firmly, and he eyes Kurt’s hole every time he draws back. His mouth is watering and he lets the saliva spread.
He’s only swiped six or seven times before he presses with his tongue and Kurt pushes back and he works his tongue in circles, trying to loosen the firm muscles. He alternates between point pressure and a circular massaging motion, drawing back to give Kurt’s tailbone a kiss before delving back in with some more long licks.
“You’re too… fucking good at this…not fair…”
“Hngh,” he grunts back, Kurt still seems fairly coherent so he can’t be that good. Kurt’s arse is turning pink from the scrape of his stubble, but he can’t bring himself to care, it’s marking him as his, but he also doesn’t want to make it too uncomfortable for later. He pulls back and sucks one of his fingers, coating it generously. He’s going to have to grab the lube sooner rather than later. He runs his finger down between his cheeks and Kurt squirms away. He pauses.
“No…let me…turn over. I want to see you.”
He can’t deny such a simple request, and when Kurt rolls back on to his back and then keeps moving off the bed Dave freezes before realising that he’s grabbing the supplies from his bedside table. He hands them to Dave wordlessly and he leaves them by his knee, drawing Kurt into a kiss, Kurt’s hands tangling in his hair, chests pressed against each other as they both kneel on the bed. His cock is pressed between their bodies, pressed alongside the warm hot length of Kurt’s cock and fuck it feels amazing.
He lies back in the bed, legs bent and drawn apart as far as possible, eyes watchful. Dave squirts some lube onto his finger and presses at Kurt’s hole, slow steady pressure that Kurt breathes through. They’re not saying anything out loud, but he’s trying to say everything with his eyes. I love you. So much. Don’t leave me. Ever. Talk to me. Please. When Kurt starts pushing back on his finger impatiently he starts moving it, in and out, circling and slides his middle finger in alongside it, accompanied by a gasp from Kurt. He watches for pain. Knows Kurt well enough in bed to know what it looks like, and is relieved when he doesn’t recognise any.
He doesn’t want to draw this out, wants the languid feeling of post-coitus that eases Kurt into talking coherently. He twists his fingers and Kurt’s back arches off the bed.
“Fuck, yes, there…”
“Good…”
He works Kurt’s hole, wants him falling apart under his hands, wants him begging. He alternates between a rapid thrusting rhythm and longer slower strokes, twisting his hand so he’s brushing Kurt’s prostate as much as possible.
“Dave, please.”
He has a condom on as quickly as possible, and he’s never ever thought about skipping this step before, but he kind of wonders what it would feel like. Just with Kurt. He smears lube and it’s messy but he doesn’t care. Kurt’s holding his arse cheeks apart, legs in the air and even now looks graceful. Beautiful. He drives forward, slowly and carefully. His groans mix with Kurt’s and it feels so right that he can’t imagine why Kurt would give this up. Kurt’s legs move to rest on his shoulders and he runs his hands down Kurt’s chest and up his legs, admiring it.
“You going to move?” Kurt asks, and he can tell he’s trying to sound bitchy, but the catch in his voice and thrust of his hips is a traitor to his true intentions.
He pulls back and then sinks in, slowly. He usually starts slowly, so he can used to the sensation, enjoy it while it feels new, every single time. Kurt is only sometimes appreciative of the slow rhythm; and now is not one of those times. He speeds up quickly, before Kurt accuses him of being a snail again and Kurt is humming beneath him, body shaking already. He lets his thrusts become stronger and Kurt’s mouth drops open in pleasure.
“God Kurt…” He wants to say more, but words catch in his throat and melt away, unimportant in the haze of feeling their bodies moving together. He feels Kurt’s hands run down his chest, tug at his chest hair, words falling out of his mouth that he only half hears ‘your arms, fuck, chest, strong.’ He moves his hands to Kurt’s hips, gripping them so he can control their movement.
“Fuck Dave…fuck.”
“Yeah…” Dave replies, and he knows he has just the right angle right now. He’s snapping his hips furiously, getting lost in the sensation of building pressure in his groin, knowing it’s going to wash over him soon.
“Close. So fucking close…”
“Kurt.” He sounds tortured to his own ears, and he can feel Kurt starting to tighten around him, pressure almost painfully tight and then Kurt coming, his cock covering his chest. He thrusts, and Kurt’s arse is still clenching around him, providing another level of sensation and he feels the surge well up and then he’s groaning his orgasm, his body shaking from the after shock. No matter how many times he has sex with Kurt he seems to forget how simply amazing it is until the next time. He lets Kurt’s legs drop carefully from his shoulders and he leans down, capturing his lips in a gentle slow kiss, the complete opposite to the kiss that they shared just moments before.
“You okay?” Dave asks and Kurt nods wordlessly. He kisses him, pressing his chest against his, not caring about the sticky come that he’s smearing between them, although judging from the look on Kurt’s face when he pulls back he isn’t impressed. He pulls out and ties the condom shut, dropping it over the side of the bed for now, he’s not leaving Kurt’s side until they’ve talked.
TWB
Dave curls an arm around him, pulls him tight against his chest and Kurt closes his eyes, ignoring all his clothes spread across the room. They need to talk. Sex can’t solve this, as much as he’d like it to. He takes in a deep breath, ready to speak, but Dave beats him to it.
“So tell me, what makes you think I’m moving to LA?”
“I…saw what was in the folder.”
“Ugh. I still haven’t looked at that. My boss – Wait. You looked in it?”
Kurt’s stomach sinks. Oh fuck. Another assumption jumped on with both feet, eyes closed and brain switched off. He feels terrible. And sick. All that worry for nothing. Fuck he’s an idiot. An idiot that invaded Dave’s privacy.
“Uh, not intentionally. I mean, I knocked it off the bedside table and I was trying to not read anything and then I saw LA all over the place and I looked, and it was a flight list, and then there was accommodation and then a job contract…you really didn’t know what was in there?”
“Seriously Kurt? With the week I’ve had? My boss gave that to me on Wednesday. It’s been the last thing on my mind to read what I thought was just fucking paperwork.”
“Oh.” That makes sense. “Right. Of course. Well. I’m sorry that I just… assumed. I was pretty pissed. I kind of thought that you’d already accepted this job without even talking to me about it…”
“Would me moving to LA be such a bad thing?”
“I…Dave. You love Chicago. Your sister is here, and Mike and your nephews. All your friends. I would never ask you to leave all that.”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering. Well, at least putting it on the table for discussion. Because I love you Kurt. You. I might love my job and friends, but there’s only one Kurt Hummel in the world. And he needs to be in LA. At least most of the time. So…we’ll discuss it okay? Like mature adults.”
He wants to say no. Doesn’t want Dave to have to give up his life here just to be with him. But Dave is right, it’s not a decision either one of them can make on their own. He still worries, still feels the niggling doubt in his mind, what Greg had said earlier, that Kurt had really hurt him with the name calling. He can’t even remember the words, but he bets Dave remembers. And despite it all Dave had been in love with him. He needs to know, needs to ask.
“Were you really in love with me in high school?”
“What? Who told you that?”
“Greg.” Dave rolls his eyes.
“Well, Greg’s wrong. And…right. I was in love with the idea of you Kurt. Of being comfortable enough to even think about having a boyfriend. Sure I was attracted to you, a guy would have to be dead for a decade to not be attracted to you, but you were just an idea to me then. Now? Now I’m in love with a man who challenges me in all the right ways, keeps me on my toes and is just there when I need him to be…”
Kurt flushes, can feel his whole body heat and is glad Dave can’t see his face right now.
“I love you too… and I would love for you to be in LA with me. I just…don’t want you to feel like I’d be forcing that decision on you. And I’d never want you to resent me if it didn’t work out… I…it’s scary. I would hate for you to have a week like this and me be in LA…”
“Kurt…as important as you are to me, I’ve coped for many years, some of them single, with far worse weeks than this. I have a support network in place to get me through it. It would never fall solely on your shoulders.”
Kurt bites his lip and nods. Dave’s right. And anyway, if he wanted he could be at Dave’s side in a matter of hours if it was needed. They could be very precious and important hours though.
“And a move to LA is something I would discuss with you. Like I expect you to discuss with me any sudden need to suddenly scare me to death by packing all your bags…”
“I…sorry.” He means it with all his heart, wishes he hadn’t jumped to conclusions. Again.
“Just don’t give up on me, on us, okay? You remember a couple of months ago when I jumped to a stupid conclusion and you called me an idiot?”
“Yeah...”
“Well, it was just your turn to be the idiot in this relationship.”
“I can deal with that.”
“Good. Come on, we have a dinner date…”
“Oh god, do we have to?”
“Do we want our friends to give us shit for the next few weeks?”
“Ugh. No. Fine. Let’s go and have a shower.”
TWB
It’s later than he thought, with Mercedes and Mike both sitting in the living room talking to Blaine and Greg when he emerges from his bedroom. Fuck.
“Oh look, the evening entertainment,” Greg says, grinning widely and Dave shoots metaphorical daggers at him, wishing he had some real ones.
“You guys made up…of course you did. We heard you,” Greg adds. Socks. He could shove socks in his mouth. That would work. Kurt’s gone bright red and Mercedes is clearly trying to not laugh at either of them. He has no idea how long they’ve been here. After the first few minutes he’d forgotten completely about Blaine and Greg being in his living room. No idea how much they’ve heard of what was meant to be a private conversation. He sighs and goes and grabs his jacket.
“Come on, if you’re going to make fun of us at least you can do it over dinner so I can enjoy a good meal while I’m being mocked.”
TWB
They’ve spent the morning in bed, having stayed up until two talking and drinking with everyone last night. He knows Dave will need to get up soon, do whatever last minute shopping he needs to do and then start on the epic preparations of whatever dinner he’s got planned for this evening. He feels calm. Relaxed. No matter what Dave decides about the job they’ll talk about it. He needs to remember that they’ll talk about everything. He knew, intellectually and logically, that Dave would never had made that type of decision without talking to him about it first. But emotionally he’d completely freaked out.
Greg had taken him aside last night, still far too amused for his own good, but he’d said something, something that has stuck with him enough through the wine and late night. ‘Some people just aren’t 100% happy on their own, or without that other person in their lives. I think his other person is you. You make him happy and at the same time your happiness is more important to him than his own. Also, he’s happy, you’re happy. How does this not equal happy ever after?’ He’d kind of rambled on, but he’d got the gist of it. After Blaine telling him that Greg was cynical about long distance relationships he kind of feels like he’s gotten a seal-of-approval.
TWB
As he suspected the afternoon is a flurry of activity. Greg is dispatched to the grocery store, after Dave spent ten minutes reassuring him it’s only because Greg knows exactly what Dave needs and what shops to get them from in the shortest amount of time possible. Plus with Greg gone neither of them feels guilty for making out in the kitchen, putting Dave’s preparation schedule behind by another half hour. When Keegan arrives at three to actually help Kurt shrugs easily, positioning himself in an out-of-the-way spot with Greg to watch them work, their offers of help politely declined. Blaine turns up around four, looking like he’s just woken up and joins him and Greg.
“Blaine, this is Keegan. Keegan, Kurt’s friend Blaine.”
“He’s one of Dave’s exs,” Kurt provides.
“You say that like he collects us…” Greg says, pulling a face.
“Doesn’t he?” Keegan asks, laughing. Not anymore, not if I can help it, Kurt thinks.
“Wait, am I the only person here who hasn’t slept with Dave?”
“Seems like it…you don’t know what you’re missing out on…” Keegan states, winking at Kurt. Dave rolls his eyes.
“If we’re playing name the ex, Blaine is Kurt’s ex. The nice one.”
“You’re the nice one?” Greg asks and Blaine instantly looks annoyed.
“Ah, what an incestuous little web we weave…” Keegan mutters, going back into the kitchen.
TWB
Santana turns up looking sour, and Dave knows it’s because Kate has to work. She always slightly mellower when Kate’s with her, and he hopes she can get away from the hospital early enough before Santana attacks anyone with cutlery.
“You had something you wanted me to look at?”
“Uh, yeah. A job contract. Just let me get it.”
She follows him down to his bedroom and he picks the folder up off the bedside table. He still hasn’t looked at it, knows that tomorrow he’ll have plenty of time to look it over once Kurt’s gone back to LA. Santana takes the folder and sniffs.
“You know I’m not an employment lawyer right?”
“Yeah, but I figure you have better working knowledge than I do.”
“Well, you would be right. Let me take a look.”
She disappears into the dining room, folder already opened as she flicks through the pages. He returns to the kitchen, where everything is under control. He kisses Kurt quickly across the breakfast bar and gets a blindingly bright smile for his efforts, although Keegan makes gagging sounds behind his back. He gives him the finger and sets about cutting onions for sautéing, they always make Keegan cry and it serves him right.
“Dave…” Santana comes into the kitchen, smacking the folder against her hand. “Have you even read this?”
“Uh, no…I was a bit, um, distracted.”
“Yeah, I just bet you were…” Santana replies dryly and she shoots Kurt a look. “They want you to set up a bespoke training course, using the police academy in LA as the trial. Spending one to two weeks in LA as required, teaching the course once it is up and running, but also remaining an active officer specialising in child psych here in Chicago. If it’s successful they want to implement it across state with the potential for all academies to take it on board.”
Dave stares at her blankly.
“Santana, are you serious?” Kurt asks, his voice unnaturally high, and Dave knows exactly how he feels. It sounds perfect. Too good to be true, except…maybe not.
“I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried. You really need to get a proper employment lawyer to look over this. It’s only a draft, but you need to protect your intellectual property. It looks pretty good though. Costs covered, resources available, even a little coordinator to help you run things.”
Dave takes the folder from her, he needs to read this. Read it now and make it real. Fuck, no wonder his boss wanted to know his thoughts, this is a pretty big deal. He grins at Kurt and he can barely contain how happy he feels.
TWB
Kurt looks around the table and it’s nice to be able to recognise everyone, know who they are, what they do, and how they know Dave. Karen’s there, and she’s spent a good portion of the evening talking to Dave about the possibilities of the job offer. Or secondment as Santana has taken to calling it. Mike had turned up late with an incredibly tired looking Kate, who had promptly been taken home by a worried looking Santana. Mercedes and Mike had been all loved up, talking exclusively to each other about wedding plans until Dave had thrown a piece of bread at Mike. ‘No bread rolls’ he’d said with a wink and Kurt had laughed. He feels Dave’s arm settle around his shoulders and he leans against him contentedly, watching as Keegan walks in with a tray of dessert dishes. He still can’t stomach the idea of dessert after Thursday night, but Blaine’s face has lit up and for some reason he turns to Greg, eyebrows waving suggestively.
“Chocolate mousse.”
He doesn’t even bother asking, but it obviously means something to Greg, who had almost snorted wine out his nose, much to everyone’s amusement, including Blaine’s. He can’t believe how much his life has changed in the last seven months, all for the better, even finding Alex in bed with Marcus. He feels fuller, more content with every aspect of his life and he’s reminded of another tree quote, something about love being like a tree with flowers. Or something. He can’t remember exactly, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t need some quote to tell him that life is better when love is in it.
THE END
(Epilogue to follow)
