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Ivory & Gold. Part III

Title: Ivory & Gold
Author:
[info]vivid_butterfly
Rating: R
Series: Glee
Characters/Pairings: Dave Karofsky, Kurt Hummel, Karofsky/Kurt
Summary:  We are not who we were in high school, but that doesn't always change anything. An AU in which Dave never came back to WMHS after being expelled.

Response to 
this prompt on glee_kink_meme,

Dave feels a hand gripping firmly to his shoulder and pulling him back.

“You all remember David Karofsky,” Kurt’s voice cuts through the awkward silence, as he pushes Dave back towards the table. He could easily shove off the smaller boy and storm out, but for some reason he can’t bring himself to do it. Instead he slides down in the chair and offers an almost pained smile towards the former Glee kids.

In that moment, with the fiercest conviction he has ever felt, Dave envies moths and butterflies who spend their formative years inside a cocoon, their changes hidden from the world.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Quinn asks. Her arms are folded over her chest. It’s weird to see outside of her Cheerios uniform, but it’s even weirder to see Santana and Brittany out of theirs. He doesn’t even recognize them at first, but it has been five years.

“Haven’t seen him since I beat him up,” Sam says. The guy’s hair is like three or four shades darker than Dave remembered. And as awkward as Dave feels in this moment he just can’t stop himself form laughing.

“Yeah, you we really beating me up when Bieste pulled me off of you. Glad your eye is better by the way.”

He regrets it when he says it. It just makes the rest of the group glare at him more. His eyes flicker nervously over to Kurt. This has to be some test, but he isn’t exactly sure what is being asked. And Kurt’s face isn’t giving away anything.

“I invited him,” Kurt concludes with an outrageously fake smile. Dave grabs the cloth napkin off of the table and spreads it across his lap to give himself something to do.

“So, where have you been?” Finn asks, offering him a lopsided smile. Thank god, Dave thinks, that he apologized to him earlier. At least he has one ally at the table. Quinn, Puckerman, Santanna, Brittany, Chang, other Asian, Sam, Mercedes, Abrams… they’re all surrounding him on either side of the large rounded table. Berry isn’t there, which is a bit of relief. He’d found out later from Azimio she had been the one to spearhead the effort to get him away from Kurt. And while the levels of displeasure vary on their face, none of them look happy.

“Boston,” Dave replies. His tongue darts out and licks at his chapped lower a lip, a nervous habit from as long as he can remember.

“What were you doing there?” Finn continues, smile still in place. It almost makes him feel bad for drawing on his face in the locker room.

“Dave here got a scholarship,” Kurt intercepts.

“Yeah,” he replies darting his eyes at the faces around him, “hockey.”

“I didn’t know that college acceptance boards looked too fondly on expelled students.” Quinn is looking down at him haughtily. A gold cross glints over her pink cardigan.

She's probably still upset about that whole ‘insperminated’ comment if Dave has to guess.

“They reversed the expulsion,” Dave replies, “and even with the suspension, well I scored pretty well on my SAT so...” He trails off, grabs one of the breadsticks, and breaks it in half. It's not as good as he remembered it being in high school. It's pretty bland and a bit stale.

“What?” Kurt blurts out.

“I scored pretty well on my SAT,” Dave repeats.

“Not that. What do you mean they reversed the expulsion?”

“…The school board decided Sue didn’t have enough evidence to expel me. So, they reversed the decision.” The right corner of Dave’s mouth is twitching up in an uncomfortable smile.

“Why didn’t you come back then?” Kurt persists.

David is painfully aware of all the eyes on them. He could lie, come up with something that sounds plausible. But he’s done with that part of his life now.

“You didn’t want me near you.”

“What’re you studying, Dave?” Finn continues interrupting the painful silence.

“English,” he replies.

And the wheelchair kid, Abrams, says, “I thought you had to be literate to major in English.”

“Funny. Haven’t heard that joke before,” he calmly replies eyes darting over to Kurt.

“Dave really likes Oscar Wilde, don’t you Dave?”

“Yes,” Dave replies.

“I mean, you really love Wilde, don’t you?”

The waitress interrupts them then to take their orders and immediately after that Dave has given his, he excuses himself to use the restroom.

 

Dave doesn’t need to pee, but he does need to get as far away from that table as possible, so when he dashes in to the restroom he moves over to the sink farthest away from the door and looks in to the mirror. His face is a bright red and it feels hot to the touch so he grabs a paper towel and wets it with cold water before rubbing it over his skin.

He tosses it in the trashcan and places his elbow on the white porcelain of the sink, lowers his head and closes his eyes.

“Goddamn it, you’re an idiot.” He hisses to himself as he brings his hands to his face and presses the heels of his palm in to his closed eyes.

“Fuck.”

When he looks up, Chang’s reflection is staring at him in the mirror.

“What the hell are you doing?” the reflection barks at him. Dave instantly flashes back to the fight in the locker room and his face grows warm again. He turns around and his back is pressed against the sink.

His voice catches in his throat. He knows Mike isn’t asking about talking to himself or staring in the mirror or anything like that. He means what is he doing here. At Breadstix. With them.

“I... I have no idea.”

“You need to back the hell off Kurt,” Chang continues, “you gave him enough shit in high school. I don’t know what your game is, but it stops now.”

Dave starts laughing then, large body-shaking laughs because it really is fucking hilarious “Game? Seriously, Chang? You think I’m the one playing games here?”

“In case you hadn’t noticed,” he continues, raising his voice slightly, “we’re not teenagers anymore, and this isn’t McKinley. I’m not going to be shoving you today, but you need to seriously back the fuck off right now.” Dave moves so that Chang isn't poised so threateningly over him; he starts walking to the door, but Chang grabs on to his arms and pulls him back. Dave wrenches away from his arm and turns to yell at him, but the

“Who the hell do you think you are, Karofsky? And how the hell did you get his scarf?”

“He left it in my room, Mike,” Dave spits back. And yes, it is totally worth the comically shocked reaction that flashes over the other man’s face. He had actually had a bit of a crush on Mike freshman year, but that had been quickly replaced with his fascination with Kurt. "After what I thought was something that could maybe pass for a date, or at least a slightly enjoyable night. I've been a lot of things, but I've never been so cruel to people I've fucked."

“You’re gay?”

“No, I just have sex with dudes for fun. Of course I’m fucking gay.”

“Oh. Wow.” Chang’s eyebrows rise and he bites his bottom lip; Dave remembers why he had a crush on him.

“What?”

“Um, nothing. High school just totally makes sense now.”

Dave sighs.

Mike and Dave return to the table not too long after that and Dave is mostly silent while he pretend a to be interested in the conversation. He ignores the occasional barb Kurt tosses his way and the annoyed glares that the rest of the table, minus Finn and Mike (and Brittany who is too busy coloring the kid's menu to pay him any mind,) are throwing his way

But, after what Dave counts as the sixth snide remark from Kurt since returning to the bathroom, Dave slams his hand down on the table causing everyone to jump and the plates and silverware to rattle.

“You are a cunt,” he hisses and releases the napkin in his hand so it stays on the table, “Enjoy punishing me for shit I did when I was sixteen.”

He stands up and throws down a twenty for the food he ordered that still hasn’t arrived and politely nods to the other people at the table.

“I hope you all have a wonderful evening."

He looks over at Kurt.

"I.. I still can't believe I actually liked you. If you ever fucking grow up, give me a call.” He turns then and leaves the building and goes out to the cold November air.

He strides across the parking lot and by the time he makes it to his car his hands are still shaking. Fumbling with his keys he finally manages to unlock the door and slide in to the driver's seat. He slams the door shut and drops his keys in the center console when he's still too shaky to slip it in to the ignition.

"Fuck," he grumbles under his breath and slams his open palms against the steering wheel, "fuckfuckfuck." Leaning his head back he stares up at the ceiling of the roof of his car and rubs his hands over his face, presses his palm against his face as he lets out a groan.

Digging his hand in to the pocket of his jacket he pulls out his cellphone and flicks through his contact list, thinks about calling Azimio or one of the other boys who never left Lima and getting trashed at a bar. But, for some reason he can't quite explain the thought of doing that makes him even angrier and he ends up throwing the phone down on to the passenger's seat. It bounces off and slams up against the glove compartment before landing on the floor.

He takes a few deep breaths before grabbing his keys out of the console and starts the car and drives back home.

It's not even 8:45 when he gets back and no one else is home. He turns on the old XBOX to play HALO live and scream at other players over the headset; it makes him feel a little better. His account name is still "The_Fury" which is a little bit embarrassing as a relic of his teenage years, but he's mostly stopped yelling' You want a piece of the Fury?' at the other players so at least he’s improved in that regard. He'd decided years ago speaking in third person was never intimidating.

The first game passes rather uneventfully. He and some other guy on the red team grab a Warthog and Dave spends a good portion of the time driving. The second game has some interesting people on headsets. One guy keeps quoting the Art of War and another one is singing the Pokemon theme song over and over again. Surprisingly enough, this is not the weirdest thing Dave has heard on XBOX life.

On his third game he finds the respawn spot for the other team and lobs a series of grenades which garners him seven kills in under two minutes.

"You're a fag," one of the other players hisses after Dave delivers an impressive headshot from a concealed portion of the map. He has the highest kill count so far and doesn't seem to be slowing down any time soon.

"Yeah, I'm gay," Dave replies smoothly as his moves his character to a different area of cover before taking aim at the respawned 'BladeKillerXx', "And This is usually when I'd invite you to feel free to suck my cock, oh wait... you can't." He shoots; he kills. "Because you're dead, bitch. How does that feel?"

When the other guy respawns a few seconds later Dave takes him out again, and moves on to shooting other members of the rival blue team, though if he smashes down the buttons on his controls a little more forcefully whenever he aims at BladeKillerXx, he wouldn't admit it.

"You guys fucking suck," the other player complains a few minutes later, "this game is bullshit. You guys are hacking."

"Oh, you gonna rage quit you fucking pussy? Can't handle a fairy kicking your ass?" Dave finds himself smirking a little when some other voices join in with him. Maybe he should feel bad, there's a real person behind the player on the other side of the screen, but he doesn't. It's just part of playing the game.

When Dave finishes that round, he ends up being counted as MVP and feels oddly accomplished. He has a private message sent to him from BladekillerXx calling him ‘a little bichface.’ Dave sends him a reply saying at least he knows how to spell bitch. After that he signs off and head toward the kitchen.

Grabbing the phone off the hook he flicks through the take out menus until he finds a delivery place he remembers doesn't suck and orders himself a pizza. He is told it’ll be ready in about forty five minutes and the total is 18.47. While he returns to the couch he strips down to his boxers and pulls off the peacoat, sweatshirt and sweater he'd thrown on for the stupid not-date at Breadstix. He drops them on the floor of his room near his duffelbag. It is warm enough in his house he doesn't need to put anything else on, but he grabs a blanket off of his bed and wraps himself in it anyway. Once he returns to the couch he switches over to a single player zombie game and starts where he left off when he last played, maybe three years ago; he can barely remember what the storyline of the game is supposed to be.

Fifteen minutes later there is a knock on the door and Dave pauses his game as a zombie launches towards him and opens the door, money in hand for the pizza. He places his left arm against the doorframe and leans against it, looking down at Kurt, his face mostly unreadable. The money is still held loosely in his right hand.

"Well, you're not the pizza delivery man. What do you want, Hummel?" Dave growls out.

"You're right," Kurt replies. His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his bright turquoise trenchcoat.

Dave blinks and doesn't respond.

"I," Kurt continues a little haltingly, "I was being a bitch. And I'm sorry."

“Yeah, what finally clued you in?” It’s about then that Dave realizes he’s in his boxers and a t-shirt which would have been embarrassing enough with the pizza guy, but it’s so much worse with Kurt standing there staring at him, so he crosses his arms over his chest like it’ll somehow give him more cover.

“Look, I’m having trouble understanding how much you’ve actually changed, okay? You shoved me in to lockers, you threatened to kill me, not to mention that creepy thing with the cake topper, can you really blame me?”

“No,” Dave relents after a long second, “but you could at least have given me a second chance. I was sixteen, Kurt. You can’t stand there and tell me you didn’t do shit you regret back then.”

Kurt looks down at his shoes for a second and then back up at Dave, his lips set in a small frown.

“Like I said, I was a bitch. I’m sorry.”

"Yeah, you were. We done here?"

“Do you want to be?”

Dave doesn’t say anything and Kurt takes a step toward Dave and then another until his shoes are brushing up against Dave’s toes; his hands are still in his pockets, Dave’s are still folded across his chest.

“Do you want to be?” Kurt repeats again. With his boots on and Dave’s shoes off Kurt is actually close to an inch and a half taller than Dave and Dave raises his eyebrows just a hint in response before he steps back to allow Kurt the room to walk. He closes and locks the door behind him.

“I ordered a pizza." Dave adds, “should be here in a half hour.”

Kurt removes his jacket and places it on the arm of the couch as he takes a seat, “Why is there a zombie on your TV?”

“Oh, I was playing a videogame.” Dave responds moving quickly to the TV and pressing the off button and then turning off his XBOX.

“I haven’t played video games since I was eight and my Duck Hunt controller broke.”

Dave plops down next to Kurt; their knees touch.

“I’ve got my old Nintendo,” Dave confides leaning a little closer towards Kurt to tell him; Kurt doesn’t pull away. “We bought it off my old neighbor before they moved when I was ten. I could hook it up if you want.”

Kurt is looking at Dave like he’s a little crazy and a little brilliant and a little dumb.

“Really?”

“Yeah, if you want. but I left something in the car,” Dave replies, “give me a minute.” Dave moves in to the garage and unlocks the passenger side door of his car. After retrieving his phone from the floor, Dave texts his dad and asks him when he’ll be home. He replies that they went to see his little cousin’s game tomorrow morning so they'll be staying with Dave’s uncle that night and be back tomorrow afternoon.

 When he comes back to the couch Kurt has kicked off his shoes and is sitting with one leg crossed over the other and his hands in his lap. Dave has pulled on a pair of jeans.

He hooks up the ancient video game console and prays it still works. Amazingly enough, it does and when Kurt comes over a little hesitatingly and takes the bright orange and white gun-shaped controller from Dave, he can’t help but smile. Dave moves to the kitchen to grab himself a beer from the fridge and calls out to ask Kurt if he wants anything to drink. He asks for water so Dave pulls down a glass from the cupboard and fills it with the water from the filtered pitcher in the fridge. When he returns to the living room he places the glass on the coffee table. Kurt is on the second level already.

“My dad and I played together on his old console,” Kurt explains as he hits duck after duck, “it was the manliest activity I was capable of.” Dave thinks he sees Kurt roll his eyes a little.

“I always tried to shoot the damn dog,” Dave admits, sitting cross-legged on the carpeted floor with a beer in his hand.

“He is kind of a dick, isn’t he?” Kurt observes as he offers the controller to Dave, “your turn?”

Dave shrugs and finishes his beer before he takes it. He misses the first three birds before he gets used to the controller again and hits the rest.

The pizza comes a half hour later and when Dave opens it to reveal it's covered in pepperoni, pineapple, jalapeno and minced garlic, Kurt makes a face.

"It's delicious," Dave replies pulling a piece off for Kurt and sliding it on a plate, "trust me."

"Trust you?" Kurt laughs and Dave isn’t sure if it’s supposed to be funny, but he grins a little anyway.

"This is not awful," Kurt responds slowly after taking a small hesitant bite, "taste-wise at least. Calorie-wise it is probably going to kill me."

Dave shrugs as he shoves another slice in his mouth, "Whatever, I'm already chubby."

Kurt rolls his eyes and sets down the pizza slice and looks at the pizza box, “isn’t this an extra large?”

He blushes a little before he responds, “I’m sort of used to ordering for the whole team, not just myself.”

“Do they know?” Kurt asks his face getting suddenly serious as he crosses his arms over his thin chest.

“Know what?”

“That you’re gay.”

“Yeah, I told them like a year and a half ago. It’s not really a big secret anymore.”

“What happened to you?”

Dave shrugs, looks down at the table and then directly at Kurt, “I grew up.”

“Your parents? Did you tell them yet?”

Dave frowns, “No. I want to wait until after I’ve graduated. I,” he pauses for a second and taps his left hand on the table licks his bottom lip, “I still don’t know how they’ll react. Hate to get cut off or something like that. Between hockey and class I wouldn't have time to get a job. And I need hockey for tuition.”

Kurt nods and finishes his slice of pizza.

They end up going back to the living room and watching TV and pretty soon the TV isn’t even on anymore and they’re just talking. Dave has his arm slung across the back of the couch and Kurt has turned inward just a hint so he’s talking more directly at him.

Kurt does it this time, places a hand on Dave’s face and kisses him softly. Dave takes a second to respond but pretty soon Kurt is on his back and Dave is kissing his neck. Kurt pulls off Dave’s shirt and when Dave tries to take off Kurt’s he has his hands batted away and Kurt does it himself.

“You nearly ruined my shirt last time,” Kurt replies as he places his shirt on the end of the couch before kissing him again.

“Your bed,” Kurt groans as he presses himself up against Dave’s thigh, his left hand scratching his nails down Dave’s broad back

“Fuck,” Dave gasps as Kurt bites his neck.

“Yes, David, that is kind of the idea.”

“No. Fuck, I.. I’m pretty sure I don’t have any condoms.”

“Are you serious?” Kurt sits up and does what Dave can only describe as glare.

“I wasn’t exactly coming home thinking I was going to get laid or anything.”

“What kind of man doesn’t have condoms?”

“Shut up. I can run to the store and get some if we need them.”

“Well, we’re certainly not fucking if you don’t.”

Dave sits up and grabs his shirt off of the floor and slides it on before rebuttoning his jeans.

“I know that. I’m not an idiot.” He grabs his coat from his room and slides on his shoes without any socks on. He hates that almost as much as he hates wet socks, but he has a mission now.

“You coming?” Dave asks as he moves towards the garage, “Or you want to hang out here?”

Kurt slides on his boots and his shirt; "Sure," he says as he grabs his trenchcoat, "I'll come."

Dave rolls through two stop signs and speeds through a yellow light as it’s about to turn red on his way to the nearest store. He parks as close as he can to the entrance and hops out of his car, not bothering to lock it behind him. There really isn't anything inside worth stealing.

It’s raining softly and the little bit of snow on the sidewalk and in the parking lot is turning in to mush. He wipes his feet on the mat near the door to avoid slipping on the linoleum floor as the enter; it’s dark brown and white checked. When he was little one of the two colors used to be lava and he had to hop around to avoid burning his feet off. Sometimes he even did it as a teenager when his mom sent him out on errands. He isn’t doing it right now, but his feet seem to be automatically moving towards the white tiles.

“It’s almost like you’re afraid to be seen with me,” Kurt quips as he strides behind Dave; they make their way towards the hygiene section of the store weaving through aisles and avoiding knocking over other patrons.

“Yeah, of course that's it. Because clearly it’s not like I want to hurry up so we can get back to my place and fuck.” He gets a double take from an old lady and smiles at her broadly before they reach the section of the aisles filled with condoms Dave stops and stares.

“Which ones you want?” he asks as he looks over the variety of brands that line the shelves in a spectrum of colors.

“Just get what you normally do.” Dave stares for a few seconds longer before he grabs a familiar looking box; he studies it a little more carefully out of the corner of his eyes and recognizes it as the brand he steals from his roommate and starts like he’s ready to go to the cashier.

“You don’t have any lube at your house either, right?”

Dave stops moving and feels himself blushing a little bit, but manages to compose himself to turn back to the wall and grab a bottle. The whole sex thing is still pretty new to him, new enough to make him feel like a teenager again when it gets brought outside the bedroom.

On the quick walk back to register they pass by the candy aisles and Dave slows before grabbing a pack of sour punch straws.

“You’re getting candy?” Kurt asks with a raised eyebrow.

“You want some?”

Kurt opens his mouth like he’s going to call Dave an idiot or something, but instead closes it and grabs a chocolate bar. As they walk Dave nudges Kurt with his shoulder and grins; Kurt doesn’t look like he wants to strangle him.

When they reach the check out, Dave pays with his credit card and avoids any unnecessary eye contact with the pretty blond high school girl who rings them up.

On the way back to his house Dave rolls through three stop signs and speeds through a yellow light. It's totally, completely and utterly worth it.

They make it to Dave’s couch before Kurt pulls him down and starts to kiss him. Dave kicks off his shoes and a few seconds later Kurt is shoving off Dave’s coat and pulling up his shirt.

 “You sure you still want to do this?” Dave asks, a hand already slid under the other man’s shirt and placed on his lower back. The bright turquoise trenchcoat is thrown over the back of the couch and Kurt doesn’t seem to mind.

“Shut up,” Kurt groans out as he kisses Dave’s neck and starts to undo the buttons on the front of Dave’s jeans.

That’s all Dave needs.

Positioning on the couch is kind of awkward and they end up fucking on the floor. Dave develops a bit of rugburn on his elbow. After Dave gives Kurt a blowjob they move in to Dave’s room.


After a second round Kurt is lying in his back breathing heavily.

“Your ceiling is glowing.”

“Oh, yeah,” Dave responds with a sheepish grin as he glances up at the glow-in-the-dark stars that are faintly shining over them, “those things are hard to get off.” Kurt seems to accept this answer.

“Why didn’t you come back?” Kurt asks for the second time that night. He turns on his side, propped up by his elbow. The sheets are loosely draped over his hip and Dave can’t get over how beautiful his body is.

“What?” Dave knows what he means, he is hoping Kurt will change the subject.

“To McKinley, why didn’t you come back?”

Dave’s arms are folded behind his head and he traces mental constellations in the stars, “You didn’t want me to, and I had kind of already fucked everything up.”


“But you didn’t care what I thought,” Kurt counters and Dave laughs and Kurt narrows his eyes, “what? What is so funny?”

“I’ve liked you since I was twelve, of course I cared what you thought.”

“I-” Kurt begins and sighs, “I should get going. Don’t want to accidentally out you to your parents.” Dave catches him by the wrist and tugs him back to the bed; Kurt offers little resistance.

“You can stay, if you want. No one is coming home until tomorrow night.” Kurt tugs the sheet up over his chest.

“Your room is too cold,” Kurt complains so Dave pulls the comforter over Kurt and pulls the other man back against his chest.

“Shut up,” he mumbles into the back of Kurt’s neck before falling asleep.

 

Kurt is still there when Dave wakes up, which is certainly an improvement over last time. But it’s more than a little obvious Kurt is trying to sneak out of the bed.

Dave sits up quickly and rubs his eyes, his hair is sticking up on one half and the other half is smashed down. He’s certain he has morning breath.

“Do you want to get breakfast?” Dave asks hoping he doesn’t sound like an idiot.

“Sure,” Kurt responds slowly and eases himself back down in to the bed.

“I’m pretty  good at making French toast,” Dave offers as he rubs at his eyes again and yawns, “or we can go out somewhere too if you don’t trust my cooking.”

“I want waffles,” Kurt replies as he sits up beside Dave and begins to stretch.

“Pretty sure our waffle maker broke like two years ago.”

“Then we’ll just have to go out, won’t we?” Dave is about to respond when Kurt slides out  of bed, still naked, and moves towards Dave’s doorway. He loses his voice.

“Is that your shower?” Kurt asks indicating with his head. Dave nods and it takes him a few moments to get over the shock of a naked Kurt waltzing down his hallway to his bathroom and when he does he realizes Kurt left the bathroom door wide open. Dave gets his bearings pretty quickly after that.


He grabs two towels from the hall closet and walks right in to the bathroom, hangs the fresh towels up, drops his boxers on the floor and climbs in the shower behind Kurt. Dave ends up getting on his knees and sucking Kurt off in the shower. It’s not quite as hot as Dave would have imagined.  The water running over  his face makes it a little difficult to breathe through his nose and the droplets sting his eyes. His knees are starting to get unbelievably sore when Kurt finally comes.  

Kurt repays him by criticizing Dave for washing his hair wrong. He smacks away Dave’s hand and begins to work in the shampoo himself rubbing his thumbs down Dave’s neck and making him groan out. Dave still can’t get over how tall Kurt has grown since highschool.

 Kurt puts him out of his misery by giving him a quick handjob before he finishes in the shower.

They end up taking their own cars to breakfast where Kurt orders Belgian waffles with fruit and splashes on some blackberry syrup. Dave get himself bacon, hashbrowns, and eggs. The conversation isn’t nearly as awkward as Dave would have expected; Dave listens intently as Kurt talks about school and future plans and the play he’s cast in right now. Kurt seems feign interest as Dave talks about hockey, but genuinely looks like he gives a damn when he brings up some of his English classes.
 
When the waitress comes with the bill Dave pulls out his wallet before Kurt can and pays for it.  After he’s signed and tipped and they’re about to head out Dave flicks over his copy of the receipt and scribbles on the back before he hands it to Kurt.

“This is my number,” Dave explains, “I get it if this was just another one time thing, but if you ever want to hang out when we go back, just give me a call.”

Kurt glances down at the number with a look on his face that Dave can’t place before he slides it in to the pocket of his trenchcoat and nods. Part Four.

Comments

illocutionary
Dec. 22nd, 2010 10:52 pm (UTC)
Fantastic as always, I love the sense of normalcy, the quiet moments in this, and I think in a lot of ways it's so much more hard-hitting and disarming because of it. Plus all the small details that tell so much-- a;slkdj a little incoherent right now, but you get the picture. ♥