Archive of Our Own

It isn't as though Kurt thinks Rachel is lying, but come on, the girl is at NYU, five states away. And it's not like Kurt doesn't believe in the power of the McKinley grapevine to transcend a tiny little thing like geography, but seriously, how does anyone know what was going on in Ann Arbor when he—someone actually attending the University of Michigan with the grape in question—doesn't know himself?

But Rachel had insisted, and Kurt is sitting in East Quad with Colin and some of the other kids from the cast of As You Like It—Colin's cast, since Kurt is saving himself for the freshman musical, even though he'll probably only make the chorus despite his overwhelming first year talent—and across the dining hall, like it's no big deal, a guy with dark curly hair is feeding fries to Karofsky, and Karofsky isn't beating him up.

In fact, Karofsky is laughing and leaning in for a kiss, and Kurt's entire world view is shifting, and the drama kids still somehow think it's all about them.

"Shit," Kurt mutters. "Now I have to tell Rachel she was right and I will never hear the end of it."

"What's that, hon?" Colin turns his head to smile at him, but Kurt just waves him off and looks out the window to catch a glimpse of pigs in the sky.

"It's weird," Kurt says into the phone. "Karofsky and I have been at the same school for the last eight months and I saw him maybe three times from a distance. And now—" Kurt pauses to blow on his nails, shiny from buffing. "And now I see him everywhere on campus and always with that boy."

"Jason. His name is Jason," Mercedes supplies helpfully. Kurt can hear the faint tapping of a keyboard in the background, and he hopes she's not in a comp lab somewhere. Students working on midterms can be vicious and this conversation is ripe for loud exclamations.

"How do you know that?" Rachel whines. "You're on a completely different coast! No, I do not want cream in my coffee; do I look like I need phlegm today? Sorry, Mercedes, go on."

"As I was saying before Her Divaness interrupted, my roommate's sister's boyfriend's best friend Brian is on the soccer team at Michigan." Mercedes pauses, clearly waiting for them to express amazement and sighing when they don't. "Jason is a sophomore on the soccer team, and Brian said he's got some hot new freshman football player for a boyfriend."

"Karofsky is not hot, are you kidding me? Kurt, he didn't get hot, did he?" Rachel asks. "Great, I specified no cream but they gave me whip. I swear, it's like they want me to sound like a frog when I sing."

"Um," Kurt hesitates and winces, knowing he just opened himself up to pain.

"Kurt Hummel!" Wow, two shrill voices in unison, just as annoying over the phone as in person.

"You cannot think Dave Karofsky is hot," Mercedes orders. "After what he did to you in high school?"

"Mercedes is right, Kurt," Rachel says. "You finding Karofsky hot now would be like…it would be like Coach Sylvester finding Figgins hot!"

"Uh, I'm pretty sure they already went there," Kurt says, ignoring their pleas for more information. "Probably more like Finn finding Beiste hot or something."

"Well, you do remember when all the guys pictured her so they wouldn't pop their corks too soon, don't you?" Mercedes sounds grossed out. "Though maybe Finn didn't do that. Wasn't he dating you then, Rachel?"

Kurt smiles as they launch into their familiar routine of sniping at each other and remembers the expression on Karofsky's face as he and Jason had walked hand-in-hand earlier that day, passing Kurt and Colin on the sidewalk. Karofsky had looked at Kurt without hate or loathing or fear for the first time Kurt could remember. He'd seemed hesitant, but happy, and in the three seconds it took to pass each other, they'd exchanged nods.

Karofsky isn't hot, but he also isn't the ogre Kurt has been picturing in his head since he was fourteen. Kurt decides to keep that to himself, though, and tries to break up the escalating argument between Rachel and Mercedes instead by bitching about the student director of Guys and Dolls and how she clearly lacks creative vision.

He's surprised when it works.

Kurt walks through the crowd gathered backstage after the final performance of Guys and Dolls, still dressed in Benny Southstreet's suit and fedora, looking for his parents and Colin and Finn. Colin hasn't been to any of his shows yet, and he'd sworn he'd be at this one, but Kurt still can't find him and he really hopes to introduce him to his family.

"Kurt!" Finn's waving a bouquet of carnations in the air like a freakishly tall lunatic, and Kurt makes his way around all the people, stopping for hugs and kisses with castmates along the way.

"Who is that tall drink of water?" Christie whispers in his ear as they hug. "Someone special from home?"

"Tall drink of water, seriously?" Kurt groans. "That's my brother, but trust me, you are so not worthy of him."

Christie rolls her eyes and pushes him away, thinking he's just joking. He's not, mostly. Finn's so not ready for someone like Christie. He's still caught in the tug-of-war between Quinn and Rachel.

"Hey guys, I'm so glad you were able to come," Kurt smiles as he gets swept up in a crushing hug from all three of them. "Mom, Dad, you look great. Who's watching Abigail?"

"She went for an overnight playdate with one of the other kids from daycare." Carole says. She's cupping Kurt's face and trying not to cry. "You were amazing. But you're too thin, young man. Aren't you eating?"

"Carole, stop, the boy's fine." Burt smiles and hugs Kurt so hard that he can barely breathe. "Where's Colin? I can't wait to meet him." Kurt shoots Finn a desperate look over their dad's shoulder, but Finn just grins, plucks Kurt's hat from his head, and places it on his own.

"Oh, he's sick. He um, has the flu." Kurt keeps his gaze on Finn, hoping he gets the hint to play along. Finn's face falls, and Kurt knows he's remembering the texts they'd exchanged the day before, how he tried to convince Kurt that Colin wasn't breaking up with him.

"Yeah, Dad, don't you remember I was saying that everyone's sick at Rhodes?" Finn pulls Kurt over to him and wraps his arm around Kurt's shoulders. "Probably worse here, everyone in dorms."

Burt looks at Kurt, and Kurt tries to smile reassuringly, but then his dad looks like he's about to punch someone. Finn's hand tightens on Kurt's upper arm, and Carole reaches out to wrap her hand around Burt's bicep.

"Dad? What's wrong?" Kurt follows Burt's gaze and spots Karofsky and Jason talking to some kids from the pit. Karofsky looks up just then and pales, but he nods at Kurt before taking Jason's hand to pull him down the hall.

"Does he bother you? I still don't like that you're both at the same school." Burt looks at Kurt with concern. "What was that nod about?"

"It's fine, Dad, I promise." Kurt exhales loudly. "Karofsky and I, we're fine. We haven't even talked since we got here. We just pass each other on campus sometimes."

"You sure, sweetie?" Carole's holding his dad's hand, and Kurt is so glad they found each other and that she and Finn are part of his life like this.

"I am, Mom, promise." Kurt breaks out of Finn's hold and smiles as he rescues his hat. "Now, I'm going to go change, even though I look fabulous in this suit. And then we're going to dinner, right?"

Everyone nods and smiles, and Kurt convinces them to wait right there while he hurries back to the dressing room. He looks in the mirror while he wipes his makeup off and wonders if he'll hear from Colin at all, or if it's going to be up to him to end it.

By the time he makes it back to the hall, Christie has cornered Finn, who has a terrified look on his face, and their parents are just watching and not helping him out at all. Kurt can't help but smile for real; he's missed his family so much.

So far Kurt's summer in Lima is dreadfully boring. He's hung out with the current glee club a bit, helping Schue out with costuming ideas for Sectionals because the girl doing it really has no clue. Honestly, ripped jeans and off-the-shoulder t-shirts for an Adam Lambert number? Please.

Today, though, it's just him and Abi in the park. Kurt can't believe how much his baby sister has grown since his last weekend home and how chatty she is. Well, she babbles with intent at any rate. Secretly Kurt thinks she's pretty advanced for twenty months, but it's not like he knows better.

They're sprawled on the blanket Kurt brought specifically to avoid grass stains and currently Mr. Elephant and Mr. Chipmunk are having a heated debate about whether the pretzels or the applesauce is a better mid-afternoon snack. They play a little longer when Kurt realizes the wind has picked up and Abi's starting to rub her eyes, a sure sign a meltdown isn't far away.

"All right, little Miss Abigail." Kurt kneels on the blanket and zips up Abi's windbreaker. "You stand right there with Mr. Elephant while I pack everything up, okay?"

"El'fun!" Abi beams up at him and sucks on the elephant's trunk. Kurt wrinkles his nose but resists pulling it out of her mouth. He's learned the hard way that germs in Abi's mouth are better than the screams that will result if he tries to make her stop.

"So what do you say? We'll go home and have some applesauce and maybe an N-A-P?" Kurt looks over his shoulder with a smile but Abigail isn't there. "Shit. Abi?" He looks the other way but there's still no sign of her. "Abigail!" He spins on his hands and knees, slipping in the grass and there's a pair of jeans in front of his face, and suddenly Mr. Elephant drops in front of him.

"Kur!" Abigail squeals from above. "El'fun, Kur!"

Kurt looks up, and Karofsky's holding Abigail in his arms, completely comfortable, and is smiling as Abigail's flailing hands hit him in the face.

"Abi," Kurt breathes out. He blushes, realizing he's staring at Karofsky's crotch and stumbles to his feet, tripping on the blanket and Kurt's face must be bright red when Karofsky reaches out with one hand to steady him. "Abigail Elizabeth, you can't run away like that!"

"Kur!" Abi lunges toward him and Kurt reaches out to catch her, his arms tangling briefly with Karofsky's as he makes sure she doesn't fall.

"Sorry," Karofsky says. "She took off toward a dog that was behind you, and I kinda ran interference."

"No, don't apologize. I mean…" Kurt pauses. "Thank you, really. I don't know what would have happened if you weren't here." Kurt shifts, settling Abi against him as she rests her head against his shoulder and stuffs Mr. Elephant's trunk back in her mouth.

"Yeah, well." Karofsky runs a hand through his hair and Kurt wonders why he looks so shy. "It looks like the kids are done with their break, so..."

Kurt turns to look and sees a bunch of little kids in full football gear, eating orange slices and laughing loudly.

"You're coaching Pop Warner?" Kurt asks, surprised. Abigail is suddenly still and quiet in his arms, and he starts swaying back and forth hoping to get her asleep.

"Yeah," Karofsky says. "Started helping them out in high school, after I was expelled." He coughs and takes a step back. "Yeah, I gotta—" Karofsky points across the field. "I'll see you around, Kurt."

"Yeah," Kurt says. "Thanks again, for—"

"Hey, no problem." Karofsky looks at him for a minute, like he wants to say something else, but he just smiles a little and walks away. Kurt watches him until he gets to the kids and they gather around him, voices fighting to be heard, and Karofsky laughs. He looks like the momma duck in one of Abi's DVDs, all the little ducklings crowding around.

"A duck, seriously Kurt?" he mutters. Abigail shifts again, and he tightens his hold on her as he squats to gather the rest of their stuff.

Kurt can't help but look back across the field while he walks to the parking lot and spots Karofsky standing still, looking his way, until a football hits him in his chest. Kurt turns his head quickly, hiding his smile and tries to figure out how to get the car keys out of his pocket without waking up Abigail.

"Lori is just finishing up with someone, Kurt. Do you want anything to drink while you wait?" Marcie smiles at him. "New client today, those always run long."

"No, I'm good. Thanks," Kurt responds, not looking at her but over her shoulder at the mostly empty salon. There are a few older women getting foils and perms, and then there's Lori, working some product into a guy's hair. Kurt's intrigued; he's usually the only male client, though he's never really thought that he was the only one.

Lori spins the chair around, and Kurt gasps, loudly, right when the stereo is silent between songs and everyone looks at him. Including Karofsky, sitting in Lori's chair.

"Kurt!" Karofsky blushes—honest to goodness blushes—and Lori moves his head back to where she needs it.

"Hey, honey!" Lori beckons him closer. "You and David here know each other? Well of course you must, you both went to McKinley."

"Yeah," Kurt says dumbly. "Karofsky and I go way back."

"Oh hey, you're both at Michigan, right?" Lori moves in front of Karofsky, pulling on the ends of his hair to compare length.

"Yes ma'am," Karofsky says.

"Karofsky what are you doing here?" Kurt blurts out, still in shock.

"Don't slouch." Lori taps Karofsky on the shoulder, and he pushes himself back upright.

"I usually go to Mr. Markson but he had a stroke, and my Aunt Beth told me to come see Lori," Karofsky says in a rush. "I didn't know getting a haircut took this long."

"It does when you're not just taking a razor to it," Lori says. "You've got great hair, David, and so help me if you don't grow those curls out I might cry."

Kurt smothers a laugh behind his hand, watching Karofsky trying not to squirm.

"You should get a mani-pedi, too," Kurt suggests. "Very relaxing."

"A what?" Karofsky asks, looking confused when Lori starts laughing.

"Don't scare the poor boy, Kurt. He'll never come back at this rate." Lori wipes the back of Karofsky's neck with a towel before unsnapping the cape.

"Okay, David. You're all set. If you want to come back, tell Marcie to book you out four weeks." Lori pushes Karofsky's shoulder gently, and when he stands, bending over to look in the mirror, Kurt can tell he'll be back just from the look of pleasant surprise on his face.

"Thanks, Lori," Karofsky says. "I, um, Kurt? I'll see you around."

Kurt just nods and watches him walk up to the counter before turning to face Lori, who has a devious look on her face as she motions him to her chair.

"He's a handsome young thing, isn't he? Getting all dolled up because his boyfriend's coming for a visit this weekend." Lori spins the chair toward the mirror and gives Kurt a look.

"Jason's coming here?" Kurt's more surprised than he probably should be. "Huh."

Lori watches him in the mirror, silent, before she runs a hand through his hair. "The usual, Kurt?"

"Yeah," Kurt responds mindlessly. Huh. Karofsky's boyfriend is going to be here, in town. That's just…weird.

"You didn't have to do that," Kurt says as crosses the parking area of the Save-A-Lot. "I'm not afraid of stupid high school kids calling me names."

"I didn't think you were," Karofsky replies, calmly. "But they need to be told they can't go around calling people faggots."

"You're kidding me, right? I seem to recall you calling me a faggot all the time." Kurt scoffs. "Besides, they only backed off because you could beat them up." He gets to his car and tosses the canvas grocery bags in the back seat, annoyed that Karofsky had parked right next to him.

"Maybe, but the point is they stopped." Karofsky sets his own plastic bag in his car. "Azimio's little brother is just as much a dick as he is."

"I thought you two were best friends," Kurt asks before he can stop himself. He doesn't care, Christ.

"Yeah, well." Karofsky looks at him. "Telling a guy like Az that you prefer cock doesn't really make the friendship stronger, you know?"

Kurt stares at him, trying to picture the Karofsky of three years ago saying that. He can't do it.

"What?" Karofsky runs a hand through his hair. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I don't get it! What the hell happened to you, Karofsky?" Kurt explodes. "You torment me for years—years—and then it was suddenly like I didn't even exist and now, what? We go to the same college, we keep running into each other, you're out, so, what, that makes you think we're friends? We are not friends, Karofsky, at most we're two ships who have to constantly pass each other as they go about their lives!"

Kurt's adrenaline is pumping now, and he's been waiting for this fight for years, but Karofsky leans against his car, arms crossed, not saying a word, which just infuriates Kurt even more.

"What, suddenly forget how to speak? Back to being the ignoramus jock you will always be?" Kurt spits out.

"No, just waiting for you to lose steam." Karofsky's face doesn't show any anger, just something like calm acceptance, and it pisses Kurt off even more. "I've been wondering when this would happen."

"What?" Kurt snaps.

"This," Karofsky waves between them. "This freak-out, this questioning of who I am in your world. I thought you were a little too cool about the whole thing, so I've just been waiting."

It's Kurt's turn to be silent, and he smoothes back the lock of hair he can feel brushing his forehead before putting his hands in his pockets to stop fidgeting. Kurt isn't sure what to say now that his initial outburst is over.

"You want to know what happened to me? Fine," Karofsky sighs. "You know how every year some of the football players would go away to clinic at OSU for a month in the summer?"

"And how on earth would I know that, Karofsky?" Kurt gives in and mirrors Karofsky, leaning against the car, hoping it's not dirty.

"You didn't notice Finn disappearing every summer?" Karofsky asks, incredulous. "I thought with your big crush on him something like that would be on your radar."

"Fuck you." Kurt blushes and turns to get in the car.

"Sorry! Shit, I'm sorry," Karofsky puts a hand on the car door, inches from Kurt's, and he notices, stupidly, that Karofsky still needs a manicure. "Just listen, okay?"

Kurt's silent, but he shuts the door and faces Karofsky again, arms crossed, raised eyebrow telling him to get on with his story.

"Anyway, the summer before senior year I met this guy at clinic—no, not like that, God. Mark was a college guy, from Northwestern, one of the assistants." Karofsky scuffs his sneaker on the pavement, drawing patterns in the dirt. "He was totally out of the closet. The quarterback had a boyfriend, and no one gave a shit."

"No one?" Kurt couldn't resist asking.

"Well, some of the younger guys tried, but Coach went off on them. Said that it didn't matter what team we played for off the field as long as we were the same team on it." Karofsky smiles at the memory. "It was the first time I thought that maybe I could play sports and be gay at the same time."

"So you didn't..." Kurt waves his hand, hoping to get his point across.

"Nah, not with him. I just talked to him a lot." Karofsky looks him in the eye. "Other than you and Blaine, he was the first person I told I was gay."

"You didn't exactly tell me," Kurt says wryly. "It was more...implied."

"Yeah." Karofsky's face closes off and Kurt wishes he hadn't brought up that kiss, but he quickly tells himself that he has every right to remind Karofsky of how he used to be. "Listen, I gotta go. I'm not saying that's all it took for me to change." Karofsky pushes off his car, and suddenly he's only a few inches from Kurt. "There was a lot of therapy, lots and lots of therapy, and anger management, and hating myself first."

Kurt blinks but doesn't say anything as Karofsky gets in his car. Kurt's not sure why his brain seems to go offline so easily when Karofsky surprises him.

"Oh, and Kurt?" Karofsky leans out his window. "Getting laid didn't hurt, either. You should try it sometime."

"What, with you?" Kurt hates his mouth sometimes. And his brain, yet again.

Karofsky laughs, shocked. "I don't think we're there yet, but you let me know if that ever changes. Besides, I have a boyfriend." He starts the car, Jay-Z blasting from the speakers and waves good-bye.

Kurt curls his hands in his pockets to stop himself from waving back.

It isn't disappointment Kurt feels when he realizes he hasn't seen Karofsky since their big whatever in the parking lot two weeks ago, but when he's on the school's website, looking to see if the visiting directors have been announced yet, he can admit he's glad Karofsky hasn't been avoiding him and is just back at school already for football practice.

Then he tells himself he doesn't care. Really.

Kurt hates early morning classes. His beauty routine has already gone through enough changes, and four weeks into the semester, his pores are starting to look as big as dimes. He's discretely checking his reflection in his compact when Dr. Brandenburg walks in. Karofsky's trailing behind with a few other students. Kurt nods at him as he takes his seat, carefully keeping sympathy from his face.

It was still the talk of campus that Karofsky had caught Jason getting head from the new Spanish soccer player during pre-season practice. Secretly Kurt thinks Jason is slumming it a little bit; Diego is hot, sure, but his hair is atrocious, and he laughs like a donkey. Kurt knows—they live on the same floor, and he's witness to the horror on a daily basis.

Just because they happen to share one stupid writing class doesn't mean anything. Kurt and Karofsky aren't friends, but they've reached some sort of détente, and because of this new peace, Kurt can't help but think it's a shitty way for Karofsky to start a new semester. Kurt's a nice guy; it doesn't mean anything that he feels bad for Karofsky.

Great, he thinks, arguing with Rachel and Mercedes in his head. Again.

"Okay, class, settle down." Dr. Brandenburg walks around the room handing out paper. "This is the next writing assignment due Monday; the three students we'll discuss are on top." She pauses at the front of the classroom and folds her arms. "By now you all should have written and posted your response to the topic of 'regret' on the class site. Once I grade them, I'll make your blogs public so you can all comment, just like last week. Today we'll discuss Mr. Shaw's, Ms. Kyle's and Mr. Karofsky's responses. We'll start with Ms. Kyle."

Kurt tunes out for the most part, taking notes here and there to make it look like he cares. Really, Margo regrets telling her best friend that her boyfriend was cheating in a note? So Jersey Shore in Miami. Totally fake.

"Right, thank you Margo." Dr. Brandenburg rubs her forehead and sighs. "David, why don't you go next?"

"Um, okay." Karofsky flips through his notebook before speaking. "My biggest regret was in high school."

Kurt looks up in shock from his doodle and notices that he's not the only one surprised that this apparently has nothing to do with Jason.

"Go on, David." Dr. Brandenburg's voice is gentle, and Kurt glances between her and Karofsky curiously. "What made you choose this event?"

"It's something I live with." Karofsky doesn't look up. "I regret it every day."

Kurt squirms in his chair, suddenly warm and uncomfortable in his cashmere sweater. It must be the curse of fall in Michigan, drastic temperature changes.

"Can you tell us more about it, David? How did it make you feel back then?"

Kurt rolls his eyes and wonders when his English class turned into Pysch 101 or something.

Karofsky coughs. "Um. It made me feel safe, I guess. Well, not safe, but—untouchable."

"And now?"

"Like an asshole." Karofsky flushes when the class laughs. "Sorry."

"No, it's okay." Dr. Brandenburg smiles. "We're all adults here, and honesty makes for better writers. Can you give us some more details? What do you think made you change your view of the incident?"

Karofsky glances his way, and Kurt's eyes widen before he stares intently down at his notes.

"Time, I guess. Um. Growing up, learning to—" Karofsky stops mid-sentence and clearly isn't sure he should continue.

"I think this is a good time to remind the class of our Vegas policy. What we say here and on the class site should be considered sacred and confidential. Because if it leaves this space, punishment will follow." Dr. Brandenburg says this almost every class, and Kurt believes her, but still hasn't revealed too much of himself. College isn't high school, but he doesn't know his classmates too well. "David, go on."

"Um," Karofsky sighs. "I learned to not hate myself because I'm gay. That's it's okay and if someone thinks less of me for it, it's their fault, not mine."

"What was the incident?" A girl in the front row asks the question everyone's clearly dying to know the answer to. Karofsky looks at Kurt again before addressing her.

"There was this guy, and I wasn't…nice to him. I mean, I was a jerk. He was out—in our high school where weird kids got slushied every day." The class gasps, and Karofsky's eyes squeeze close, like he's trying to block out the memory from his brain. Kurt can't look away from him and their eyes meet when Karofsky blinks. "I threw slushies at him, tossed him in the dumpster. I did all sorts of stuff. I was a real dick. And then one day he fought back. Not, like, physically, but he dared me to punch him." Karofsky coughs. "I remember being so impressed at his balls…and then he called me extraordinarily ordinary. And I…"

Karofsky pauses and stares at Kurt, and Kurt can't make himself look away, can't believe Karofsky remembers what he said so precisely.

"I just wanted him to see me and to get that I thought he was the most amazing guy. So I grabbed him and I—." Karofsky bows his head and Kurt watches as he shrinks in on himself, trying to appear smaller in his chair. "I grabbed him, and he thought I was gonna hit him, but I kissed him instead. And I remember that his lips were soft until he pushed me off him, and when I saw…when I saw that he was terrified of me, I slammed my hands against the locker right in front of him and ran out."

The whole class is silent, and Kurt hopes they can't hear the pounding of his heart or the whooshing in his ears.

"I regret that my first kiss was with someone who was so scared of me that he thought I might actually kill him." Karofsky looks at him again, his eyes shining. "I regret that I made him transfer schools and leave his friends and that he probably hates me to this day. I regret that I never told him how brave I thought he was and how much that scared me."

Dr. Brandenburg clears her throat and turns to the front, but Kurt sees her wipe her eyes before she faces the class again. "All right, I think that's enough for today. Mr. Shaw, I'm sorry, but we'll get to you on Friday. Make sure you read the Joan Didion passages and are prepared to discuss them. Class dismissed."

Everyone starts packing up their things, the seriousness of what Karofsky has revealed giving way to the happy chatter of getting out of class early. Kurt moves slowly, putting his things away in his satchel, watching Dr. Brandenburg talk quietly to Karofsky out of the corner of his eye. It's not until she moves to gather her own papers that Kurt gets up and walks purposely toward Karofsky on his way out of the room.

"Um," Kurt whispers. "Thanks. For saying that. And I want you to know that—" Kurt takes a deep breath. "I don't hate you. I'm glad, you're…that you seem to be…happier, y'know, being you."

Karofsky looks at him and Kurt makes the absurd observation that his eyes are really very pretty before he realizes that Karofsky's holding out his hand. Kurt shakes it, awkwardly, unused to the feeling of rough skin against his, but he smiles before he walks out of the classroom.

His hand feels warm the whole way down the hall, and he shakes it out by his side once he's in the stairwell.

A few weeks go by and it's more of the same, except Kurt still hasn't told anyone what happened in class. He's not sure why, or who he would tell. He sort of wants to call Blaine and tell him, but last time they'd talked Blaine had gone on about his school's LGBT office and their huge fight with the water polo club on campus. Blaine insisted that all jocks were the same, and Kurt knows that's not true (on the jock-scale, water polo seems to rank a little low, maybe above bowlers), and he knows Blaine didn't really mean it, but…

But Kurt doesn't want to have Blaine shoot this down and remind him of the fear and the pain Karofsky put him through. No one back home really believes Karofsky's changed, even though Jason visited him over the summer and the two of them were the talk of the town the night they'd eaten at Breadstix. So Kurt's kept quiet, even though he feels like he's lying to everyone for some reason.

Today he's late for class—his hair just would not behave and when he was finally satisfied he saw it was snowing out and had to put a toque on and adjust the wisps that poked out—and by the time he gets to the room all the good seats on the far side have been taken. Kurt looks around quickly and takes a deep breath as he slides into the seat next to Karofsky, quirking his lips in a small smile. Karofsky looks surprised but smiles back and tilts the handout toward him so he knows what the class is discussing.

Kurt sneaks glances at Karofsky over the next hour, taking inventory on the physical ways he's different from the guy who used to terrorize him. His hair's a little longer, and Kurt realizes it's kind of curly, brushing the back of his shirt collar, which is isn't wrinkled but is unfortunately untucked over his jeans. Karofsky's jacket, thrown over the back of his chair, isn't his UMich football jacket either, but a grey wool peacoat, still damp from the snow. Karofsky looks up at him, brow raised in a silent question, and Kurt starts at getting caught, and looks back at Dr. Brandenburg, hoping his face isn't as visibly flushed as he feels.

When they're packing up to leave, Kurt moves slowly, and Karofsky doesn't say anything before he walks out. Kurt's not sure why he's bothered by Karofsky ignoring him, but he thought maybe they were moving toward a place of casual greetings and good-byes.

Kurt leaves the room and spies Karofsky talking to Mark or Mike or Matt, whatever his name is and Kurt turns up his nose and doesn't acknowledge either of them as he walks past.

"Hey, Kurt!"

Karofsky's next to him by the time he reaches the stairwell and Kurt doesn't look at him as they push against the wave of students coming upstairs.

"Are we not at the point where we talk to each other yet?" Karofsky asks, a step behind him.

"What? No." Kurt twists to avoid a tiny girl with a backpack twice her size, and Karofsky grabs him by the shoulders just as he starts to lose his step. Kurt stops, ignoring the grumblings of the students forced to move around them both, and Karofsky removes his hands so violently that Kurt actually does slip on the wet stair and grabs the railing.

"Sorry, sorry." Karofsky stammers. "I didn't mean—"

"No. Thanks," Kurt doesn't turn around, but starts walking again. "It's dangerous around here this time of day," he tries to joke.

They continue down the steps in silence until they walk outside and face each other on the sidewalk. It's not snowing anymore and Kurt pulls out his oversize sunglasses to block the glare. Karofsky pulls a cap out of his back pocket and shoves it on his head but doesn't say anything.

"Your, um." Kurt waves at Karofsky's neck like an idiot before reaching out to fix Karofsky's collar, straightening it from where it was tucked into the jacket. He pats it in place. "There, that should keep you warm."

"Thanks." Karofsky looks at him for a few seconds, and Kurt suddenly feels like a jerk, wearing sunglasses this huge. He thinks about taking them off, but Karofsky exhales and says he has to get going.

Kurt watches him walk away until yet another idiot with no sense of personal space hits him with her messenger bag. He heads to his next class.

"Do you need a hand?" Kurt's been watching Karofsky try to carry a stack of books one-handed while his backpack kept sliding down his arm, tipping everything off-balance. Karofsky's grimace of pain as he instinctively tries to catch things with his left hand snaps Kurt out of his daze, and he grabs the books before Karofsky can reply.

"Uh, thanks." Karofsky shifts his backpack up onto his good shoulder. Kurt shakes his head when Karofsky reaches for the books again. "Fine, c'mon."

Kurt follows him through the stacks until they get to an empty row of study carrels, and Karofsky gestures at a double, taking a seat. Kurt sets down the books, hesitating before he pulls out the other chair, settling into it with his bag on his lap. Karofsky awkwardly pulls out his laptop and sets it up in front of him, typing in his password slowly with only one hand.

"I'm sorry about your shoulder," Kurt says. "Are you in a lot of pain?"

"Only when I forget and try to move my arm." Karofsky taps the desk impatiently when his laptop doesn't immediately log into the network.

"So all the time?" Kurt asks.

"Yeah, pretty much," Karofsky snorts. He pulls one of the books toward him and flips intently through the index.

"Are you done for the season?" Kurt isn't sure what he's hoping to accomplish with this idle chitchat. He still feels bad about how he acted after class last week, and he honestly had been concerned when he read the tweet from the Daily about Karofsky's shoulder sprain keeping him out of the next game against Illinois.

"Yeah." Karofsky looks at him before focusing on the screen again. "Not that it'll matter. I'm just a second-string safety. They won't really miss me."

"But you made that great tackle during the Purdue game!" Kurt exclaims. "Everyone said that changed the course of the game."

Karofsky turns to Kurt with an incredulous look on his face. "Since when do you follow football?"

"I don't," Kurt admits. "But you were the talk of my Twitter feed that day."

"Gotcha." Karofsky chuckles softly, shaking his head. "You're something else, Hummel."

Kurt smiles, feeling confused. Karofsky holds his gaze for a few seconds before facing the desk again. It doesn't help Kurt figure out what's going on, though, and he eventually pulls his textbook for Music in Culture out. After fifteen minutes of staring at the same two pages, he realizes he's spent more time sneaking glances at Karofsky than studying.

"You were my first kiss, too," Kurt blurts out. He closes his eyes, cursing his lack of brain to mouth filter, and Karofsky's gone still next to him, Kurt can tell. "You need to know that, if we're going to get past what happened. What you did to me."

Kurt opens his eyes and slowly turns his head to face Karofsky, only to find him looking at Kurt intently, very seriously. Neither of them speaks for a minute.

"I'm sorry," Karofsky finally says. "I don't know if I can ever apologize enough or if you'll ever believe me, but—"

"I believe you." Kurt cuts him off. "But you took that from me, and you made me...you made me afraid to be me. And that really wasn't cool, Karofsky. You violated me, do you get that?"

"I don't think I'll ever get it," Karofsky starts. "No, don't leave, let me finish." Karofsky snatches his hand back from Kurt's arm like he's burned, and Kurt slowly sits back down. "I did that to you. I made you feel that way. And I recognize it and I own it, but I didn't live through it the way you did, so I don't think I'll ever understand what it was like for you. What I made you feel like."

Kurt's chest feels tight suddenly, and it's hard to breathe. He remembers so vividly what it was like to confront Karofsky in that locker room, and it's the same feeling, that burst of adrenaline that comes with reckless abandon, only this time Kurt isn't afraid of what will happen to him, what Karofsky would do, because he knows, deep down, that Karofsky isn't the same guy anymore.

"I'm never going to get it, Kurt," Karofsky continues softly. "But I am going to try to fix it, so maybe someday we can be in the same room and you won't have it in the back of your head. Because I know you think about it whenever you see me. There's always that second when you first look at me where you look afraid. I hate that. I hate that I make you feel this way."

"Wow, you weren't kidding about the therapy thing, were you?" Kurt tries to joke, but it falls flat.

"I don't kid about this," Karofsky answers. He hesitates before taking a deep breath. "Listen, can we...can we start over? No, not, like, start over, because it's too big to ignore, and I'm not saying this is water under the bridge or whatever, but maybe we could—"

"Start building the bridge?" Kurt interrupts, hesitant.

"Something like that," Karofsky says. "Make a fresh start. Maybe."

"Yeah, maybe." Kurt says. "How?"

Karofsky holds out his good hand. "Well, how's this. My name's Dave, and I used to be a closeted asshole."

Kurt barks out a shocked laugh but takes Dave's hand, prepared for the feel of calluses, but not the warmth enveloping him.

"I'm Kurt," he replies. "It's nice to meet you."

Kurt opens the door to the coffee shop and is dismayed by the line of thirty or so people. Evidently finals week combined with unusually warm temperatures means he's not the only person on campus with the idea to get out of the library for a break. He's trying to decide if he really has time to join the end of the line when he sees Karofsky—Dave—somewhere in the middle, typing on his phone. He takes a deep breath and decides to commit the grand double sin of making the first move and cutting in line.

"Hey, been here long?" Kurt slides up to Dave and line and jostles him with an elbow.

Dave looks up in surprise, smiling when he sees Kurt. "About ten minutes. I got lucky and beat the sorority girls back there."

Kurt nods and looks to the end of the line, before turning his best you so want to pretend we were meeting here, right? look back at Dave. Dave just laughs and they stand together for a moment, quiet, until Dave's cell beeps and Kurt's fascinated with the look on Dave's face.

"Someone special?" Kurt asks. "Because you just blushed a little."

"I did not," Dave protests, cheeks darkening even more as he types. Kurt realizes he likes the way Karofsky looks when he's embarrassed and he makes a show of craning his head to look up at the counter. Dave gets another text. Now Kurt's curiosity is definitely piqued.

"Okay, those are coming fast and furious. Who is he?" Kurt steps in front of Dave and leans over to peer at the phone. Dave angles it away, grinning. "Are you going to make me try to steal it or are you going to spill?"

Dave looks up at Kurt's crossed arms and tapping foot and sighs. "It's just this guy.".

"Forgive me for stating the obvious, but duh," Kurt replies.

"Do you want to hear this or not?" Dave asks, rolling his eyes when Kurt mimes zipping his lip. "His name is Luke. I met him senior year."

"After your summer of awakening?" Kurt lifts his hands in surrender, moving backward a few steps when Dave points out the line has moved. "Sorry, shutting up again."

"Thank you," Dave says. "And yeah, it was after that summer. He worked in the doctor's office across the hall from my therapist."

"Wait, he's a doctor?" Kurt huffs when Dave glares at him. "You might as well accept that I'm not going to stay quiet."

"Are you always this vocal?" Dave closes his eyes in embarrassment when he realizes what he said.

"If it's good, yes," Kurt replies sweetly. He marvels that sniping with Karofsky has become somewhat second nature over the past few weeks. "Now, tell me more about Doctor Luke!"

"He's not a doctor, Christ. Yet. He's in med school now, but back then he was just a pre-med junior and was working at his dad's practice over the summer." Dave holds up his hand when Kurt opens his mouth and motions him to face the counter. "I'll have a medium non-fat mocha and he'll have...Kurt? What's your order?"

"Um, the same, thanks, but large." Kurt's hit with the sudden memory of Blaine knowing his coffee order by heart back at Dalton, even though Blaine only drank his black. The knowledge that he and Dave like the same overly sweet coffee makes Kurt feel like they're closer somehow, like...like he's got to stop watching so many rom-coms.

Dave pays despite Kurt's token protest, and they're silent as they stand among the crowd waiting for their drinks. Kurt wonders what Luke looks like, pictures someone like Jason, lithe body, curly hair, not overly muscled, but not skinny the way he is himself. He's shaken from his thoughts when their drinks are called. Collecting their paper cups, they walk outside into the warm cloudy day.

"Thanks," Kurt repeats. "You didn't have to."

Dave shrugs. "You can get the next one, it's no big deal." They walk down the slushy sidewalk, Dave's sneakers getting wet, but Kurt's safely in his black Hunter boots. "Do you want to hear the rest of it?"

Kurt looks at Dave out of the corner of his eye. He can tell Dave wants to talk about Luke some more, and Kurt can admit he's been curious about Dave's transformation from Karofsky the asshole to the Dave he's come to think of as a friend. Luke must have had something to do with that.

"Yeah, tell me about him."

Dave lets out a long breath, and Kurt's struck, suddenly, with the knowledge that Dave was worried about Kurt's reaction. Dave cares about Kurt's opinion of this guy Kurt has never meet and who only indirectly has any sort of impact on Kurt's life now. Kurt drops onto a dry-looking bench, shifting his bag onto his lap and waits. Dave looks at him for a few seconds before copying him.

"So, yeah. I met Luke late in senior year. Like May, maybe?" Dave takes a long swallow of his drink. "He sat at the front desk. I could see him through the window and he was so…perfect, y'know?"

"I'm sure," Kurt drawls, taking a small sip of coffee. Dave raises an eyebrow, questioning, but Kurt motions for him to continue.

"All right, I know he wasn't perfect, but he looked it, sitting behind the desk, answering the phone." Dave looks down and Kurt can see the small smile on his face. "He has these big brown eyes and brown hair, short, but it was kind of long in the front, hanging in his face." Dave laughs. "He was always blowing it out of his eyes. But really, what got my attention was his smile. It was just so…open and free, like he was always happy."

"He sounds great," Kurt offers.

Dave glances at him out of the corner of his eye, but keeps going. "Anyway, he caught me watching him one too many times, and one day he jumped up as I walked by and came out to talk to me. We got coffee at the café they have there." He smiles faintly. "It became our thing."

"So that's it? You two just had coffee once a week?" Kurt feels oddly relieved and upset about this.

"At first, yeah." Dave chuckles. "But by the middle of the summer we were hanging out when he was done with work and he…" Dave trails off, hesitant. Kurt doesn't think, just puts his hand on Dave's shoulder and squeezes before wrapping it back around his cup. "He was the first guy I really kissed. After you, I mean. And it scared the crap out of me, but at the same time it was…"

"Amazing?" Kurt offers, thinking of Blaine.

"Yeah."

"Did you sleep with him?" Kurt asks.

"Wow, okay." Dave says, laughing. "We, ah, did stuff. Hand-jobs while we made out, that sort of thing. He knew I wasn't experienced and I knew it wasn't going anywhere after that summer."

"Why not? I mean, you guys keep in touch." Kurt is a little surprised. The way Dave's face changes when he talks about Luke, it's clear that there are feelings there.

"Yeah, but he was going to Stanford and I was coming here, and he thought my first relationship shouldn't be separated by thousands of miles." Dave takes a swallow of his drink, playing with the cardboard sleeve. "I think we would have tried, if we were closer. But." He shrugs.

"I'm sorry," Kurt offers. "He sounds great. Where is he now?"

"Still in California. First year at Stanford Med." Dave sighs. "So, I came here, I met Jason, and Luke and I are just friends."

Kurt can hear the resignation in Dave's voice, and he ignores the feeling of annoyance that wells up inside him. It's good that they're still friends; Kurt's still friends with Blaine after all. It's good.

"Here, actually," Dave angles his phone toward Kurt. "That's us over the summer, when he came home for a few weeks."

Kurt takes the phone out of Dave's hands to get a closer look. Luke is…he's pretty, all big eyes and gorgeous smile. He's nothing like Jason, who is fit and sort of muscular. Luke isn't too much shorter than Dave, but he's smaller and Dave's looking adoringly at Luke, not the camera. Kurt's hit with a feeling he can only describe as jealousy, which is just ridiculous. He has no reason to be jealous.

"You guys look good together," Kurt chokes out, passing the phone back. "Oh shit, is that the time? I have to get back to the library." He stands up and his bag shifts with the movement. He wobbles a bit, off-balance in more ways than one.

"Kurt?" Dave stands as well, places a steadying hand on Kurt's elbow. "You okay?"

"Yeah! Just, too much caffeine, not enough food." Kurt waves his hand. "Finals, you know how it is. I really do have to go, though."

Dave nods. "Get something to eat, will you?"

"I will," Kurt says. "Um, maybe I'll see you over break?"

"Yeah, give me a call. If you want." Dave digs a pen out of his backpack and scrawls a number on the side of Kurt's cup. "Here. That's my cell."

Kurt forces out a smile and says thanks before turning back toward the library. He can feel Dave's eyes on him and it makes him feel hot but not all that uncomfortable. He takes a deep breath and looks back over his shoulder, sees Dave smiling broadly, talking on his phone. Kurt quickly looks away and bows his head, watching the slushy walkway under his feet.

"I have to admit, I didn't think you'd call." Dave shifts his shopping bag from his left hand to his right. Kurt doesn't comment but suspects that his shoulder is still bothering him a little. "Especially this early into the break."

"Yes, well, I love my family, but between Finn's sugar high from the cookies and Abigail's complete embodiment of all things terrible about being two, I needed to get out." Kurt flicks through the shirts hanging on the rack. "Besides, I figured you would still need to buy some presents."

"And you don't?" Dave asks, disbelieving.

"Not really." Kurt pulls a maroon button-down shirt off the rack and holds it up in front of him, eyeing it critically. He wrinkles his nose and is just about to put it back when he holds it up against Dave's chest.

"Uh…I don't think that's gonna fit me," Dave says with confusion. "It's nice, though?"

"You should definitely wear this color more. It would look good on you." Kurt puts the shirt back and pulls out a larger size. "Here, consider this a present."

"You're buying me a shirt?"

"No, I'm telling you to buy it. The advice is my present." Kurt rolls his eyes at Dave, but Kurt buys the shirt for him when they're at the counter. It's on sale, after all.

They continue walking through the mall, trading comments about various people and the window displays. Kurt's impressed by how sarcastic Dave can be sometimes, and he starts pointing out the more hideous things just to get a reaction. Kurt's having fun, he realizes, and of course that's when Dave throws him for a loop.

"So why did you and Blaine break up? Did you have a fight?" Dave asks while they stand in line for pretzels. He stares straight ahead, not looking at Kurt.

"Not really?" Kurt pauses, thinking. "I think we just outgrew each other. We were each other's firsts, but after a while I think we both realized we didn't want to be each other's only, you know?"

"Firsts, like, boyfriends? Or…" Dave trails off, glancing at Kurt quickly and then back at the counter.

"Like everything, I guess." Kurt's voice is soft. "We were together for a year and a half, and we learned how to love together." He stops. "Oh God, that sounds so corny."

Dave laughs, stepping up to the counter to order. Kurt insists he doesn't want anything, but he carries Dave's bags so he can eat as they walk.

"All corniness aside, you loved him?" Dave asks as they start walking again.

"Yeah. I mean, I thought I loved him way before I knew what it meant to be in love with someone. I still love him, probably always will." Kurt shakes his head. "But I could never date him again. We'd kill each other."

"How long were you together before you, y'know?" Dave waves the pretzel between them.

"About six months, why? How long before you and Jason did it?" Kurt steps closer to Dave to avoid getting hit by a frazzled man pushing a stroller. Dave smiles at him as their shoulders brush.

"Heh, um. About six hours?" Dave takes a bite of his pretzel. "We hooked up at a party one weekend. And then just kept doing it until we decided we weren't doing it with anyone else."

Kurt stops in his tracks and Dave keeps walking a few steps until he notices Kurt isn't next to him and turns around.

"What?" Dave asks.

"You just had sex with him? Like it wasn't a big deal?" Kurt whispers. "You were barely out then!"

"He was hot!" Dave turns his head and sighs before looking back at Kurt. "He was hot, and I was just drunk enough that I wasn't afraid." He shrugs. "Jason had made it obvious all night that he was willing and, well."

"Do you regret it?" Kurt asks quietly. "I mean, being drunk your first time?"

"Not really," Dave says. "I mean, maybe if we'd never talked again, but we were together for a while. I don't think I loved him, though." Dave starts walking again.

"I didn't love Colin," Kurt admits after a few quiet steps. "I liked him, and the sex was decent, but I didn't feel for him anything like I felt for Blaine. Colin was a failed experiment in somewhat casual dating."

"Was he the angry looking dude I saw you with a lot last year?"

Kurt laughs. "Angry? He wasn't angry, just a drama student. And two divas do not make for a relationship."

"He looked angry! He was always pouting." Dave purses his lips into a frown, and Kurt laughs even harder.

"He did it so his cheekbones would have more definition," Kurt says between laughs. "He was ridiculous."

"He sounds it." Dave laughs a little. Kurt notices how it makes his eyes all crinkly at the side. It's…cute, Kurt realizes. Dave Karofsky is actually a little bit cute.

Kurt blinks and looks around them. People are going about their business, and no one notices that they're standing in the middle of the mall, laughing and getting along. It's a weird revelation that Kurt shoves mentally aside to think about later.

"I think I want to find Abi some books on elephants. Want to go to the bookstore with me?" Kurt points down the hall, hand clutching their shopping bags.

"Sure," Dave says. "Sounds good." He reaches out and takes his bag back, their fingers tangling in the twisted together handles for a few seconds before Dave frees his bag. They continue walking, silent, but Kurt shares a smile with him as they go.

"I can't believe you got some of the team to do a dance to that god-awful Justin Bieber song for Mock Rock," Kurt laughs, amazed. "And I hate you, because I'm still singing it."

Dave grins as they walk across campus. "We had to do something good. They didn't sing last year and they placed second to last!"

"Yeah, but you sang Justin Bieber! Complete with that horrible lesbian haircut he used to have." Kurt hums under his breath. "See? I can't stop singing baby baby baby oooooh. It's like that time junior year when Finn kept singing it because of Sam. God, he was pissed at that."

"Why?" Dave asks. "I figured Finn would like the Biebster."

Kurt steps in front of Dave and puts his hands on Dave's arms. "Never say that word again, I beg you." Dave's eyes widen before he pushes Kurt gently backward.

"Anyway," Kurt continues, "Sam was trying to convince Quinn to stay with him, and his logic was that the ladies loved the Bieber. Finn was, predictably, completely jealous. But he couldn't stop singing that song. It drove him nuts."

"What's going on with those two anyway?" Dave grabs Kurt's arm and guides him around a particularly deep puddle.

"Finn and Quinn? Who knows," Kurt sighs. "He likes Quinn, he likes Rachel, he likes this girl Veronica he met at school. Finn's a mess. Life it so much easier without romance, don't you think?"

"Really? You weren't bummed to not have a Valentine last week?" Dave doesn't look up from the sidewalk when he asks this.

"Valentine's Day is a stupid invented holiday," Kurt says. "And yes, I was bummed."

Dave makes a noise, possibly in agreement, before he starts talking about the paper he needs to write for Constitutional History. Kurt doesn't question the change of topic, even though he wants to.

"I need to talk to you." Dave's wearing track pants and a long sleeved t-shirt under an old McKinley hoodie, something Kurt would normally find both abhorrent and slightly adorable but it's March and it's freezing out and he wonders how Dave never seems to get sick.

"You are aware it's seven in the morning, right? On a Sunday?" Kurt opens his door wider and waves Dave inside. "You're lucky Rick went to see his girlfriend this weekend."

"Yeah, sorry." Dave doesn't look sorry, Kurt thinks ungraciously as he settles back on his bed, pulling his comforter around him. Dave pulls out the desk chair and spins it around before sitting down, resting his chin on his folded arms.

"Okay, you look like your dog died or something. Spill."

Dave doesn't say anything for a few seconds, staring at Kurt's bed. Kurt's beginning to think maybe his dog really did die, or worse, that they can't be friends anymore. Maybe he met someone, or maybe—

"I think I'm gonna quit the team," Dave says in a rush. He doesn't look up.

"Oh," Kurt replies, buying some time for his brain to get back in the program. "Why? I thought you loved playing."

"I do!" Dave pushes off the chair and paces the length of the room between the two beds. "That's just it. I love playing and I hardly ever got to play and we had our first spring practice yesterday and my shoulder fucking kills and I'm not ever going to be good enough to start the game."

"Hey, hey." Kurt scrambles off the bed and steps in Dave's path. "You're good. You are, even if I have to rely on what everyone else says about you. Why do you think you aren't?"

"Because I'm not?" Dave snorts. He drops onto his back on Rick's bed with a sigh. Kurt sits down opposite him. "I'm not meant to be a safety. I'm not fast enough. I can hit, sure, but I can't get down the field. And I'm too small to be a linebacker. And my shoulder really fucking hurts."

"What would your dad say?" Kurt asks, softly. He doesn't really remember Mr. Karofsky, other than he seemed like a decent guy at first, before he pulled strings and got Dave re-enrolled in school. Kurt pushes that thought out of his head.

"He says it's my choice, that we'll figure out the money somehow if it's what I really want." Dave sits up, gripping the edge of the mattress, tense. "I went to financial aid and they can get me an academic scholarship, but it wouldn't cover room and board. It's just—" He trails off and looks at his feet.

"It's just what?" Kurt prompts.

"I've been playing ball since I was a kid, y'know? It's who I am." Dave raises his head and Kurt thinks he gets it, maybe, wondering how he would feel if he suddenly had to give up singing.

"It's not everything you are, though and you don't have to stop playing," Kurt offers, gently. "You didn't want to go pro, right?" Dave shakes his head. "You're going to coach and teach. You can play with friends. You could not make me worry that you're going to get hurt worse that you already have." Dave smiles, a small quirk of his lips, which was what Kurt was going for. "Have you told Hoke yet?"

"I was going to do it today, before practice." Dave says, nervous.

"Do you want me to come with you? I can get dressed." Kurt starts to get up but Dave motions for him to stay where he is.

"Nah," Dave replies. "Practice isn't until eleven, and if I get there around ten I should be okay."

Kurt nods. "Then that gives you two hours to sleep. Come on." He shuffles back on his bed, draping the comforter back over the top and moving the rest of the bedding out of the way. "Seriously, Karofsky." Dave smiles at him. "You look like you haven't slept all night. A nap with me won't kill you."

"I don't know, Hummel," Dave teases, kicking off his shoes and slipping out of his hoodie. "You might snore or take advantage of—sorry. That wasn't funny."

"No, it wasn't," Kurt agrees. "If you think I'd be turned on by track pants and hair that hasn't been combed in days you obviously don't know me very well." Kurt ignores the racing of his heart as Dave crawls under the covers with him, blaming the early morning interruption of his beauty sleep instead of the heat coming off Dave's body.

"Sleep," Kurt says, rolling over to face the wall. Dave laughs, quiet, and Kurt is proud that he doesn't jump when Dave squeezes his shoulder gently before sliding his hand away.

"Thanks, Kurt," Dave whispers. "I mean it."

"Anytime," Kurt answers, staring at the wall. Dave stops moving after a few minutes and Kurt can tell when he nods off. Kurt rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling.

He doesn't sleep.

"We're staging an intervention," Rachel announces. Finn, Mercedes, Blaine, Sam and Quinn surround her. Kurt drops his car keys and phone on the kitchen counter, wary.

"Is this about Sam's hair? Because it's about time we told you that black is not a good look for someone with your complexion." Kurt feels no remorse at the way Sam's face crumples, or the way Quinn tries to reassure him, much to Finn's obvious distress.

Kurt opens the fridge, buying time pretending he's looking for the juice he already noticed on the table. "Where's the apple juice?"

Blaine clears his throat and hands him a full glass, without ice. Kurt smiles gratefully at him, but Blaine averts his eyes and stands in front of the screen door.

"Do not even try to pretend you don't know what this is about, Kurt Hummel." Mercedes pulls out a chair and points to it. "Sit down."

"I think I'd rather stand. Thanks." Kurt leans against the counter, surveying the crowd. "So if this isn't about Sam's unfortunate Clairol experience, what are we discussing?"

"We are discussing your unhealthy lifestyle choices!" Rachel exclaims. "Your friendship with Karofsky cannot be good for you, Kurt. You need to end it."

"You make it sound like he's a leper," Kurt replies calmly. "We've made our peace and I don't think I need to defend it to any of you."

"But he threatened to kill you!" Finn yells. "You were afraid of him and now you're practically best friends."

"A, that was almost four years ago, B, we're not best friends, and C, it is still none of your business." Kurt takes a swallow of apple juice, hoping for a moment that he chokes on it just so he could get out of this conversation.

"Oh really?" Mercedes asks. "Raise your hand if you've seen Kurt and Karofsky together this summer." Six hands go up in the air; Sam looks around in confusion. "I'll start! I saw you and Karofsky in the toiletries aisle at Meijer the last week of May."

"That's hardly damning evidence, Mercedes." Kurt tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. "Everyone knows they have the best prices for hair product."

"I saw you two in line together at the coffee shop," Blaine says. "He knew your order!"

"You know my order, too, Blaine!" Kurt exclaims, arms spread wide. "Is it so weird that people know what other people like to drink?"

"It's weird if they order the same thing, and he pays all the time," Rachel says, earnest. "Because I've seen him do that a couple of times."

"Oh? And have you seen me pay for him?" Kurt questions her. "It's called friendship. Finn? Quinn? Sam? Tell me, is everyone in this town keeping tabs on me?"

There's a moment of silence before Quinn clears her throat. "I saw the two of you playing with Abi in the park last week. And it can't have been the first time, because it seems like Abi knew him."

"Kurt?" Finn steps closer to Kurt. "You're letting him play with our little sister? What the hell?' Before Kurt has a chance to react, Finn swipes his phone off the counter, clicking a few buttons. "And your phone is full of texts and emails. Dude. You invited him to the movies? Like a date?"

"Give me that!" Kurt grabs the phone away and shoves it in his pocket. "Not like a date, God. Like two friends, going to the movies. Like you do with Rachel and Quinn all the time." Both girls glare at Finn and then each other before turning away. "I'm sorry you guys, I just still don't see what the problem is."

"Kurt," Blaine moves to stand in front of him. "I remember what it was like for you when we first met. You were terrified, and Karofsky had no right to force himself on you like that."

Kurt closes his eyes at the shocked silence in the kitchen.

"He did what?" Finn's voice is low and a little scary.

"Kurt…" Blaine squeezes his arms and Kurt opens his eyes, silently accusing Blaine of betraying him. Blaine steps away, head bowed.

"He kissed me," Kurt says calmly. "In high school, a few weeks before mom and dad got married. I didn't tell anyone except Blaine because none of you would have understood."

"So you protected him?" Finn collapses into a chair, disbelief written on his face. "What the fuck, Kurt?"

"You're not gay, Finn! And as horrible as Dave was to me back then, no one deserves to be outed before they're ready!" Kurt's breathing heavily and he swallows. "Dave hated himself more than he hated me, and we've talked about it. He apologized; I forgave him. End of discussion."

"Guys, back off." Quinn's voice is quiet, but she comes to stand next to Kurt. "When did he apologize, Kurt?"

Kurt smiles at her in thanks. "At the beginning of fall semester. We've had a lot of talks, about a lot of different things. We're friends, and I thought that you guys would understand that people can change, but if I'm wrong about that and you can't accept that Dave is in my life, you can just go."

Everyone's silent.

"If he hurts you," Finn trails off.

"Yes, yes," Kurt waves his hand toward Finn. "You can beat him up, okay? It won't happen, though. He's changed."

"If you're sure," Mercedes says. Kurt nods. "Then I'd like to go on record that I told you all before Kurt got here that this was a stupid idea."

Everyone starts talking over each other at this point, arguing over who had the intervention idea in the first place. Kurt sneaks an arm around Quinn's waist and leans into her side, resting his head against hers. It's good to have friends that care, but he wonders if they'll ever really accept Dave's place in his life.

"Guys! Guys!" Sam shouts over the noise. "I have a question. Why am I here if I didn't see Kurt and Karofsky together this summer?"

"This intervention might have been stupid, but it's not as stupid as your hair." Mercedes says. "And that leads us to our second intervention—Sam, that hair has got to go."

There's silence before everyone bursts out laughing, and Kurt smiles, hopeful.

"Why does Finn think he can beat me up?" Dave asks as soon as Kurt answers his phone. "He may be taller than me, but I can totally take him."

"Um," Kurt hesitates. "I may have had to tell everyone about us today."

"Oh, so we're an us now, Hummel?" Dave laughs, but Kurt can tell he's trying to figure out how to react. "So Finn's, what, defending your honor?"

"Ha!" Kurt laughs. "Any honor I may have had is long gone." Kurt's quiet for a bit, listening to Dave breathing in his ear. "They just want to make sure I'm not going to get hurt," he says.

"What did you say to them?" Dave asks.

"That we've made peace, that we're friends, and," Kurt pauses. "I said that if they couldn't accept that they could leave."

Dave makes a noise that Kurt can't quite decipher, but he doesn't push.

"Tell you what," Dave says quietly. "If I hurt you, I'll let Finn beat me up. Deal?"

Kurt coughs, suddenly choked up. "I don't think we have to worry about that, but it's a deal."

"Hey, what are you doing tonight?" Kurt sets the phone on his dresser while he rummages through one of the drawers, looking for a particular handkerchief. "The new Jake Gyllenhaal opens today, and I just don't care how old that man is, he's still gorgeous."

"Oh," Dave coughs. "I sort of have plans."

"Sort of?" Kurt laughs. "Is it a family thing? Can you get out of it?" Kurt pulls out the scarf and holds it up to the shirt he's wearing, making a face in the mirror. The two most definitely do not match.

"No, um," Dave sighs. "Luke's in town, and we're, ah, going to see that movie actually."

"Oh," Kurt says softly. He grabs the phone and sits down on his bed, thumbing it off speaker. "That's great! How long is he home for?"

"Just a long weekend," Dave answers. "Hey, do you want to come with us? I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

Kurt closes his eyes against the memory of the picture of Dave and Luke he saw during finals. "No, no." Kurt rasps out. "I'm sure you two have a lot of…catching up to do."

"It's not like that, I told you." Dave pauses. "I mean it, you know. You could come with us. You two would probably get along great."

Kurt doubts that very much, but makes an agreeing, but non-committal noise. "Maybe another night, Dave. Seriously, you two haven't seen each other in a year; go hang out. We can do something after he leaves."

"Kurt, I—" Dave starts.

"Oh, Finn's yelling for me," Kurt interrupts. "Have fun tonight!"

Kurt hangs up the phone and flops back on the bed, staring at his ceiling.

Part of him thinks he should just stay in tonight, volunteer to watch Abigail while his parents go out. The other part of him—the part who confuses him—thinks he should find someone else to go to the movies with. For fun. Not to spy or anything. Besides, Kurt wants to see the earlier showing, and he's sure Dave and Luke will be at the later one, so they wouldn't even see each other. Probably.

After a round of "do I or don't I," Kurt scrolls through his contacts until he finds a likely accomplice.

"I just don't get why you two are wearing all black and silly hats," Finn says for the fifth time while they're in line buying tickets to the remake of Three Days of the Condor. "People are looking at me funny because I'm wearing color."

"No, people are looking at you funny because you're a freakishly tall guy who keeps slouching so he's not seen with his fashionably dressed friends," Kurt grouses as he pays. "Seriously, Finn, we don't look that strange."

"And the hats are berets, Finn." Rachel interjects. "They add an air of foreign mystery to our themed outfits for tonight's movie."

Finn looks so confused that Kurt takes pity on him. "Spies," he says bluntly. "And the CIA, but mostly spies."

"So how come I'm not in all black?" Finn questions.

"Because you didn't want to come until you heard Rachel was going to be here," Kurt says dryly as they follow the crowd. Rachel looks at him like a fish, wide eyes and gaping mouth, and Finn hisses Kurt's name.

Kurt just rolls his eyes, looking up and down the hall to the theater. He doesn't see Dave anywhere, nor does he see the incredibly pretty Luke. Not until they get inside the actual theater and he zeroes in on Dave like he has some sort of Karofsky radar, sitting halfway down on the right, in the middle seat with Luke on his right against the wall.

"Back here!" Kurt whispers loudly. He ignores Finn's protests about sitting up front and Rachel's opinion that the middle of the middle is the only proper place to sit, and slips into a three-seater row four behind Dave and Luke.

Finn and Rachel make noise about who will sit in the middle and people start to look around at the commotion. Kurt's just about to grab both of them when the previews start and Finn abruptly plops down next to Kurt. Rachel sits down carefully, leaning forward to look around Finn and motions at Kurt to switch with Finn. Kurt pretends he's really into the new Jim Carrey movie and ignores her, watching as Luke leans over to whisper in Dave's ear.

Kurt can totally tell from the back of Dave's head that he's smiling at whatever Luke said. He pulls his beret down over his eyes until the movie starts.

"Hey," Finn whispers about thirty minutes in. "Is that Karofsky up there?"

"Um." Kurt tilts his head. "I don't think so."

"No, I think it really is," Finn persists. "Who's the dude with him?"

"I don't know!" Kurt shouts. Half the movie theater shushes him, and he sinks lower in his seat.
Rachel peers around Finn again but Kurt just waves a hand at her and she sits back. Kurt can see her fingers tapping the armrest until suddenly Finn puts his hand on top of hers to still them. They both jump back at that, crossing their arms across their chests, and Kurt rolls his eyes. He focuses on the screen and it takes everything he has not to look at the back of Dave's head again.

The movie is just getting to the part where Atwood is killed when Finn elbows him in the arm and points up front. Kurt's gut tells him not to look, but he does anyway and sees Luke leaning over, right hand cupping Dave's face as they kiss.

Kurt's breath catches in his throat and his heart feels like it's in his stomach. No, he thinks. You don't care. You don't, you don't, you don't.

But he does, and he's pushing past a confused Finn and Rachel and walking quickly up the aisle before he realizes it. He doesn't stop until he locks himself in a stall in the men's room and leans against the wall, focusing on scuffmark on his shoe. His phone is already buzzing with texts from Rachel. He tells her he's not feeling well, and he'll meet them at the car when the movie's over.

Epiphanies shouldn't happen in bathrooms. It's completely disgusting, and there's no place to sit and cry. Kurt splashes his face with cold water before he walks to the car, already rehearsing his answers to the inevitable interrogation from Finn.

"Listen, Karofsky, you asked for my help, so I suggest you stop bitching and get in there and try this on." Kurt thrusts the grey argyle sweater against Dave's chest and points to the dressing room.

"This isn't a suit, Hummel." Dave holds up the sweater in front of him. "I said a suit and maybe some ties. Not a sweater with diamonds on the front. We already have the suit, and you said we still have to get it tailored."

"So you can listen to someone who knows more than you do. And it's called argyle." Kurt pushes on Dave's arm and aims him toward the swinging doors of the changing area. "You're not going to wear suits every day, you need business casual."

"For a high school?" Dave sighs and shuts himself in the small room already full of clothes Kurt's making him buy.

"Yes! You're going to be student-teaching; you can't dress like the kids." Kurt slides down the wall, watching Dave's feet as he moves around the room. "Put it on with the white button down and the black pants."

"You're killing me here, Kurt." Dave kicks off his sandals, jeans following, and Kurt finds Dave's leg hair and bare feet fascinating, a part of the body he's never really contemplated. They're nice legs, strong calves, disappearing beneath black fabric. "What's wrong with the pants I already own?"

"Pleats," Kurt reminds him. "If you learn nothing else from me today, it's to never wear pleats again. And you're the one who said nothing fits right since you quit playing football. You're not as bulky."

"Bulky is such a bad word. I've slimmed down, doesn't that sound better?" Dave opens the door, stopping short when almost steps on Kurt. "Well?"

Kurt looks up at him, surprised at how much taller Dave looks from this angle. "It's missing something…" He pushes up off the floor, looking critically at Dave for a few seconds before ducking into the dressing room and returning with a black tie.

"A tie, seriously?" Dave rolls his eyes. "You can't even see it!"

"Hush." Kurt pops the collar on Dave's shirt and threads the tie underneath, making short work of the Windsor knot. He focuses on tucking the tie in the sweater, running his hand down the length of Dave's chest to make sure it's smooth and Kurt feels Dave take a sharp breath. Kurt raises his eyes, questioning, and finds Dave already watching him intently. Kurt swallows but tightens the knot gently against Dave's throat, and is startled to find his hands are shaking.

"Too tight?" Kurt asks, meeting Dave's gaze again, and he can't help his own soft gasp when he sees the heat in Dave's eyes.

"No," Dave answers softly. He sways forward, just for a second, before stepping back with a blush, turning to look in the mirror. "No, this is great."

Kurt makes a noise of agreement, sliding his gaze down the length of Dave's back and up again before he catches Dave watching him curiously in the mirror.

"Kurt?"

"How was your date with Luke? You never said." Kurt asks brightly. He brushes his hands across Dave's shoulders, pulling the sweater in line.

"It wasn't a date. We're not—it wasn't a date." Dave continues to focus on Kurt and not his own reflection. "I, uh, saw Finn and Rachel there."

"Yeah?" Kurt's hands pause on Dave's upper arms, and their eyes meet again.

"Yeah." Dave turns suddenly, and Kurt's holding on for balance. "They said you left the movie because you didn't feel well." Dave is inches from him, and it feels like Dave's eyes can see all the turmoil Kurt's been keeping inside written all over his face. This time Kurt dips his head forward, so close, and Dave licks his lips, and Kurt jerks his head like he's been punched.

"I just remembered, I have to go." Kurt stumbles back, and bends down to grab his bags from the floor, avoiding looking at Dave.

"Kurt," Dave bites out, reaching for him.

"I'll talk to you later. Just—get everything I picked out." Kurt scrambles to his feet and shoots Dave an apologetic look. "Sorry, I gotta go."

Dave just stands there and Kurt hurries out of the changing area. He almost kissed Karofsky. Dave. Karofsky. He can't deny it any longer and Kurt doesn't know what else to do, so he forces his feet to keep moving. He doesn't turn around, as much as he wants to.

Hey, it's me. Dave. I think we should talk. Even if it's over the phone. Just…I'm not with Luke. I told him I wasn't really up for something casual and far away. I just thought I should tell you that. I guess. Maybe. Fuck. Call me back, okay? So we can talk."

Kurt deletes the voice mail that Dave left before Kurt even made it home from the mall. And he deletes approximately fifty unread texts and seven voice mails that follow before they just stop coming. For some reason he chooses to leave unexamined, Kurt can't bring himself to do the same to Karofsky's emails, though, and just archives them without reading.

When pressed, he blames his mood on stress about the upcoming semester, how he's already worried about balancing his course workload with his performances. His dad thinks it's too much, which makes Kurt feel like shit when he perpetuates the lie. Finn doesn't really comment, but there's a look in his eyes Kurt doesn't trust. It's weird when Finn has moments of perception, even after all this time.

The worst, though, is Kurt's own subconscious. He feels guilty, but he's not sure if it's because he's ignoring someone who has become a good friend or if it's because he finds the guy who used to torment him hot. Yes, Rachel Berry, Karofsky is hot, and Kurt isn't sure how to go on in a world where this is true.

His unconscious brain apparently has no trouble going on, though. Kurt gets used to waking up from hazy dreams of Dave kissing him in the dressing room, of Dave running his tongue over Kurt's chest and down his stomach, of Kurt pressing his hands to Dave's chest while he slowly moves up and down on Dave or, worse yet, of Dave sitting in the living room playing with Abigail as Kurt's whole family acts like it's completely normal.

"Dad, are you sure my Burberry scarf isn't there? Yes, I'm aware it's barely September, but it's not a scarf you wear for warmth." Kurt pulls open the stairwell door, narrowly avoiding getting hit by some guy from down the hall rushing off in gym shorts and a ribbed tank. They nod at each other, and Kurt takes a moment to appreciate the view before he continues down the hall. "Did you check Abi's room? Maybe I left it—" Kurt stops when he sees Karofsky sitting crossed-legged in front of Kurt's door. Focused on reading the book in his lap, he hasn't seen Kurt yet, and Kurt can see the trail of his earbuds against his white t-shirt. He swallows heavily and thinks about turning around before he's caught, but of course Karofsky looks up and sees him.

"Dad, I gotta go, I'll call you later." Kurt hangs up the phone, watching as Karofsky takes his earbuds out and sets his book on the floor. He looks tired, Kurt thinks. Tired and confused and Kurt wants to reach out and smooth the furrow from Karofsky's brow, but tucks his hands in the pocket of his jeans instead.

"What are you doing here?" Kurt whispers.

Karofsky doesn't stand, drawing his knees to his chest as he looks up at Kurt briefly before looking back down. "Figured I'd give it one last chance and I knew you had to show up here eventually." He rests his outstretched arms on his knees, and Kurt can't look away from his hands as he twists his highlighter between his fingers.

"Give what one last chance?" Kurt leans against the wall opposite, unsure if he should remain standing.

"Trying to figure out what the fuck I did to make you hate me again." Karofsky looks up again, and Kurt's stunned by what he sees on Karofsky's face. "I thought we were friends. So what did I do to make that change?"

"You didn't do anything," Kurt admits. "It's me. I…" Kurt stops, not sure how to explain what's been going on in his brain the last month. More than the last month if he's honest with himself. "I freaked out," he finally says.

"About what?"

"What do you think, Karofsky? About you." Kurt slams his head on the wall behind him and stares up at the ceiling.

"Wow."

"What?" Kurt rolls his head to the side, blinking down at Karofsky.

"You haven't called me Karofsky in months. Almost a year." Karofsky pushes to his feet and Kurt stands up straight, their faces inches apart. "What's going on, Kurt?"

Kurt doesn't say anything, his mind racing. What can he say? Sorry, I realized I was attracted to a guy all my friends and family hate and it freaked me out? Or how about I think about kissing you and it's fucked up and it freaks me out? Either way, it ends with Kurt freaking out.

"Fine. I tried." Karofsky backs up, and Kurt stops thinking for once and grabs his arms.

"Don't," Kurt blurts out. "Dave. I—don't go."

"So I'm Dave again?" Dave rolls his eyes. "Make up your mind, Kurt. Dave or Karofsky. Friends or not. Let me know what you decide."

"Dave. You're Dave. Though I think sometimes you'll still be Karofsky, because you can be a little irritating." Kurt raises his eyebrows with a hopeful smile, then takes a deep breath. "But I don't want to be friends."

The shock on Dave's face quickly morphs into hurt, and he doesn't hide it. Kurt knows he should have worded it differently, but the situation calls for the dramatic.

"I don't want to be friends," Kurt repeats. He grabs Dave by the back of his neck and pulls him forward, slamming his lips against Dave's in a hard kiss. It only lasts a few seconds before Kurt lets go, breathing heavily and staring at Dave with wide eyes.

"Kurt," Dave sounds stunned, and Kurt lets out a nervous giggle, which sets Dave off.

They laugh, watching each other, until the sound fades and Dave leans in, eyes open, and softly kisses Kurt again. Kurt opens his mouth on a gasp. Dave groans, sliding his tongue along Kurt's lips. Their eyes fall shut, their hands hold each other's shoulders, and Kurt kisses back like his life depends on it, like it's the best first kiss he's ever had and it couldn't be better if he was directing the scene himself.

"Oh my God, guys." Marissa sticks her head out of her open door. "Kurt your room is right there! Stop making out where I can hear you."

Kurt groans, frustrated, pulling back from Dave. He would never have blocked the scene this way.

"Sorry," Dave says, resting his forehead on Kurt's.

"Yeah, we'll…um," Kurt grins, waves his hand and laughs again when Marissa mutters and slams her door. "You want to come in?"

Dave kisses his temple but pulls away, checking the time on his phone. "I can't, I have class. But later?"

"Later, definitely." Kurt feels like an idiot, grinning so hard his face hurts, but Dave probably feels the same way. He watches Dave gather his books, shoving everything into his bag and giving Kurt one last kiss before he walks down the hall.

Kurt laughs when he hears a whoop from the stairwell.

It should've ended outside Dave's dorm room, some kissing in the hallway, maybe some subtle frottage against the wall next to his door. Nice, slow, the way they both say they want to do this...this relationship, or whatever it is. Kurt's not labeling it. Much. Dinner someplace that wasn't the student union, holding hands as they walked back from the parking lot on the ass end of campus because they had used Kurt's car and not Dave's, who somehow managed better parking even though they're in the same dorm.

It should have ended there, but it didn't: they're inside Dave's room, and Kurt is leaning against the back of the door, against Dave's still-damp towel. Kurt knows it's probably wrecking his hair and his clothes, but all Kurt can really focus on is the feel of Dave's big hands cupping his face, how his thumbs are down by Kurt's lips, on his jaw, opening his mouth wider and his fingers are brushing Kurt's hair by his ears. It's hot, Kurt thinks, how Dave's bigger than him, and it freaks him out a little, because he used to be so afraid of Dave's size and he's never been attracted to guys much bigger than him. Taller, yes, but not big and, oh, Kurt wants to know how big Dave really is.

"Stop thinking so much," Dave whispers against his lips. "You never stop thinking."

"Well, one of us—oh, do that again." Kurt gasps as Dave bites his bottom lip gently. "One of us has to think."

"Why?" Dave moves his hands down Kurt's neck, not tight, just enough pressure, and starts loosening the bow tie Kurt had spent twenty minutes making sure was perfect before he picked up Dave.

"Because," Kurt says. "We're going slow. This isn't slow." Dave bites Kurt's lip again and slides the tie from under Kurt's collar. "Careful, that's—"

"Marc Jacobs, I know." Dave folds it with one hand and tucks it next to the handkerchief in Kurt's breast pocket. "I was there when you bought it this summer, remember?"

"Uh-huh." Kurt tightens his hold on Dave's lapel, still amazed that Dave had worn a suit jacket for their date. "You should kiss me again."

"I should, huh?" Dave chuckles but obeys, his right hand unbuttoning Kurt's collar but his left tilts Kurt's face up to his.

The kiss starts gentle, just a touch of their lips; Kurt's wet with a light gloss and Dave's chapped but still soft. It reminds Kurt of what it felt like when they first kissed, just weeks ago, not in high school, and suddenly Kurt feels too small and trapped between Dave and the door. There's a flash of the McKinley locker room in his memory and he turns his face to the side so fast that Dave is suddenly kissing his cheek and Kurt can't catch his breath. His eyes are squeezed shut, the dampness of the towel on his face is too much, and he hates himself a little when he pushes Dave back and moves away from the door.

"Hey, hey, Kurt." Dave's hands are inches from Kurt's shoulders, like Dave wants to touch him, to reassure him, and the heartbroken look on Dave's face makes Kurt feel like an asshole, just a little. "What's wrong? We can stop. You said slow. I'm sorry I didn't stop."

Kurt forces himself to swallow, to stop his heart from racing the wrong way. This isn't Karofsky, this is Dave and most of the time it's easy to remember that, to know that high school kiss was years ago from a completely different guy.

"No, no, it's not your fault," Kurt stammers. "I just got carried away and then I felt the towel and it probably is ruining my hair and—"

"Your hair's perfect. You're perfect." Dave settles one hand on his shoulder, gently, rubs the strip of skin over the top of Kurt's collar. "Come on, I'll walk you back to your room."

"What? No. I'm okay," Kurt says. "I want to stay."

"Nope." Dave keeps eye contact as he takes a step closer to place a soft kiss on Kurt's forehead. "This was only our third date, and I don't know about you, but I am a perfect gentleman, and a gentleman always makes sure his date gets home okay."

Kurt blinks back the moisture in his eyes and smiles. This is the Dave he's come to know, but Kurt wonders if Dave knows, somehow, the war going on between Kurt's head and his heart. And his other parts, if Kurt's being truthful. Still, he takes Dave's hand as they walk up the two flights of stairs to Kurt's room. His door is decorated with fliers announcing past musicals and concerts and Kurt's white board still shows the note Dave had scrawled at the beginning of the semester, inviting him to the Notre Dame game, the first Dave would be attending as a student, not a player.

"Breakfast?" Dave asks as he watches Kurt unlock the door.

Kurt smiles to himself before he turns to place a soft kiss on Dave's smooth cheek. "Definitely."

"Why are you so quiet?" Kurt squeezes Dave's hand as they walk back from the dining hall. There are leaves rustling under their feet, and Kurt's in such a good mood he has to stop himself from kicking them like he did when he was little. "Hey, what's up?"

Dave sighs, stepping in front of Kurt. Kurt's mind starts racing, about ninety different thoughts running through his head at once.

"I want to ask you something and I don't want you to freak out." Dave brushes a thumb across Kurt's cheek, studying him. Kurt wonders if Dave is memorizing his face in case he never sees it again.

"It's a little soon to get married, don't you think?" Kurt forces a laugh. Dave doesn't laugh with him, though, and Kurt sobers. "I promise, yes. What's going on?"

Dave pulls him out of the way of some runners, and they sit on a bench under a maple tree. They're still holding hands. Kurt stares at their entwined fingers, Dave's thicker and rougher compared to his own. He really should get a manicure, Kurt thinks stupidly, covering both their hands with his free one.

"So, last night," Dave starts, and Kurt closes his eyes, knowing the way their date had ended was too good to be true. "Hey, c'mon. Look at me." Dave shifts on the bench, curling his left leg on the bench and moving closer to Kurt. "Please?" Dave rubs the back of Kurt's neck with his free hand. Kurt forces himself to relax into it before opening his eyes and meeting Dave's steady gaze.

"Last night," Dave begins again, "you sort of…freaked out when we were kissing."

"I told you, the towel," Kurt protests. "It was wet. It took me by surprise." Dave doesn't say anything, and Kurt knows he's not buying it, that he probably didn't buy it last night. But he doesn't look angry or hurt, just calm and patient.

"I freaked out," Kurt says in a rush.

"Why?" Dave asks quietly. His thumb is still brushing up and down the back of Kurt's neck, slow and sure.

"Because," Kurt swallows and closes his eyes.

"Kurt—"

"No, please. If I open my eyes and look at you I'll never be able to say this." Kurt bites his bottom lip and tightens his grip on Dave's hand. "When we were kissing," he says haltingly, "and you were cupping my face and we were up against the door—which I liked, I swear to god I really liked—it just." Kurt takes a deep breath. "It reminded me of that day when you kissed me, which made me think of that day when you pushed me into the locker and threatened to—"

"Kill you," Dave whispers. He pulls his hands away, and Kurt's eyes fly open and he reaches out and grabs both of Dave's hands in his.

"No," Kurt whispers furiously, blinking back tears. "Do not pull away from me, Karofsky."

"Kurt, come on." Dave looks like he's going to be sick. "I kiss you and it makes you flashback to when you were terrified to go to school? What the fuck? How can you even sit here right now?"

"Because you're not that guy anymore," Kurt says fiercely. "I know you're not in here." Kurt points to his heart before tapping his temple. "But up here, sometimes, rarely, it gets confused. Right now, it's not confused."

"Yeah, but what if it happens again?" Dave pushes Kurt's bangs back off his forehead. "What if your head never sees me?"

Kurt tips his head into Dave's hand, kisses his palm. "We'll figure it out as we go," he offers.

They sit like that for a few minutes, silent, holding hands.

"Have you ever talked to someone about this?" Dave asks. "Like, for real?"

"Well. Blaine knows." Kurt licks his lips. "Actually, I told everyone this summer."

Dave grunts. "That explains a lot more about Finn's phone call. But that's it? Not Schuester or Miss Pillsbury or anyone?"

Kurt shakes his head. "No, I went to Dalton. I came here. You changed."

"Yeah, but Kurt…that was fine when, like, we just saw each other on campus, or hung out a bit." Dave sighs. "I think you need to talk to someone in counseling and psych services. Because I can't be your boyfriend if you freak out every time we make out."

"A therapist? Really?" Kurt wrinkles his nose. "That seems a little…"

"You know I still go, right?" Dave asks. "Not every week, but every other, usually. I'm still dealing with my shit. And I think you need to deal with how my shit affected you."

"I didn't mean it in a bad way." Kurt looks down at their hands, his brain catching up to what Dave had just said. "Boyfriends, huh?"

"Yeah," Dave laughs. "I mean, if you—"

"I do!" Kurt interrupts. "I do. You're right. I haven't dealt with what happened, not fully."

"Kurt, I care about you. A lot." Dave rubs his thumb along Kurt's cheek before settling it on his shoulder. "And I'm willing to wait while you figure out if this is something you can do. With me. With us. I just can't get any further in with you right now and then have you tell me you really can't forgive me. Even though I'd deserve it and you have that right. I just can't."

"Are you ending this?" Kurt starts to shift away, putting distance between them, but Dave puts a hand on his thigh and stops him.

"Not if you don't want to," Dave says. "I'll wait. I'm not going anywhere."

"We can still hang out?" Kurt sounds desperate, but he doesn't care.

"Of course." Dave smiles a little. "Just…nothing physical. Until you say it's okay."

Kurt leans his body forward and rests his forehead on Dave's shoulder. Dave wraps his arms around Kurt, kissing his hair, and they sit there, quiet.

Kurt fidgets in the waiting room of counseling services, absently checking his phone for the tenth time and then not remembering what he read thirty seconds later. He's early for his appointment, of course, but he really just wants to get it over with. He wants to go in there and be told he's fine. He wants to go back to Dave's room and tell Dave he's fine. In fact, he thinks he can do just that, but then his phone buzzes with a text.

would you mock me for sending you a <3 right now? because i just wanted you to know i'm thinking of you. –d.

Kurt smiles at his phone and he realizes he should do this. He can do this. Not just for Dave, or for their relationship, god, but for himself.

"Mr. Hummel?"

Kurt stands up and directs a more-confident-than-he-feels smile at the woman who's called his name. She's older and kind of reminds him of Carole, which he takes as a good sign.

"Hi," Kurt holds out his hand. "I'm Kurt."

"Kathryn," she responds, shaking his hand. "Go on in, take a seat." She gestures him through the door and he walks into her office. There's a couch and matching armchairs. Nicer than most of the furniture he sees around campus, but that makes sense. Students will want to be comfortable here.

He sits in one of the chairs, setting his bag on the floor next to him and watches Kathryn as she gathers a notepad, pen and a travel mug with a tea tag fluttering out of it. She settles into the chair opposite him with a calm smile.

"So, Kurt," she pauses to take a sip of tea, "tell me a bit about yourself."

"Um," Kurt rubs his hands down his thighs once before clasping them on his lap. "Don't you want to know why I'm here?"

"If that's where you'd like to start, of course." Kathryn leans forward and adjusts the pillow behind her back. "But not everyone is ready to jump right in the deep end of counseling, so I like to give people options."

Kurt nods. "Well. I'm, um, gay. That's not why I'm here. I mean, it's sort of why I'm here, but it's not like I have any issues with being gay." He exhales. "Sorry, this is harder than I thought it would be."

Kathryn murmurs her understanding.

"This guy. Karofsky. Well, Dave." Kurt rubs a hand over his eyes, sighing. "I'm dating the guy who bullied me all through high school because I was gay." Kurt has to give Kathryn credit, because she merely raises an eyebrow and makes a note.

"Is he still bullying you?" She asks gently.

"No!" Kurt laughs, shocked. "No, nothing like that. He's, uh. He's really changed. He's in therapy and has been for a long time. He apologized, and I forgave him. We've been friends for a while now."

"Mmm." She makes another notation before crossing her legs. "And now you're more than friends." It's a statement, rather than a question.

"Yeah," Kurt whispers. "I really like him. And like—" Kurt can feel the blush working up his cheeks. "I want to be with him, but we were…kissing, and it was fine, and then it wasn't."

"What happened?"

Kurt twists his fingers together, not looking at her. "We were kissing and then suddenly I felt like I did back in high school, when I was scared."

"Why were you scared in high school, Kurt?"

"Because he…because Karofsky would shove me into lockers and give me shit for being gay, and then one day he kissed me and it was…it was my first kiss, and he took it from me." Kurt grabs a tissue off the table next to him, just to have something to fiddle with. "And then he threatened to kill me if I told anyone what had happened."

Kathryn makes another note. "Were you out in high school?" Kurt nods. "Was—" She looks down at her notes. "Dave? Was he out?"

"God, no," Kurt makes a noise that's almost a laugh. "He was this big terrifying jock."

"Is that how you see him now?" Kathryn shifts, crossing her legs in the other direction.

"No, of course not." Kurt can feel his face soften. "He's wonderful. He really is. But…"

"But something made you afraid, the other day, when you haven't been in quite a while?" Kathryn prods, gently. Kurt nods. "What do you think that was?"

"I was up against his door, and we were kissing…" God, this is worse than talking about sex with his parents, Kurt thinks. Kathryn looks calmly at him, no sign of judgment. "And I really liked it, the fact that he's bigger, er, size-wise, than I am. And then suddenly it was like he was pushing me against the locker again, and I couldn't breathe and I pushed him away."

"What did Dave do then?"

"He apologized for moving too fast," Kurt says, smiling a little. "And when I tried to pretend everything was okay…he let me, and he walked me back to my room."

"Do you think he knew you weren't okay?" Kathryn asks before taking another sip of tea.

"Yeah, he knew." Kurt sighs. "It's why I'm here." Kathryn raises an eyebrow, questioning. "Dave asked me what happened the next day."

"Did you tell him the truth?"

Kurt nods. "He thinks I should talk to someone about what happened between us in the past. He, um." Kurt takes a deep breath, suddenly getting the full extent of what this all means. "He says he can't be my boyfriend if I'm still afraid of him." He blinks his eyes furiously, trying to stop the sudden dampness from spilling out. "I'm not. I'm not afraid of him."

Kathryn doesn't say anything as Kurt dabs at his eyes. He finally looks up at her, and she's making a few more notes—probably a novel by now, Kurt thinks.

"Well." Kathryn uncrosses her legs and leans forward, setting her pen and pad down on the table. "I think Dave really cares about you if he wants to make sure you're okay with everything before you move forward in your relationship. And I think he's right, that you should talk to someone about this."

Kurt sighs, looking at his lap. There's shredded tissue everywhere, and Kurt realizes he was more nervous than he knew.

"Kurt," Kathryn continues gently. "I think you're a brave young man, not just for what you went through in high school, but because you've not only forgiven your bully and become friends with him, but you've obviously come to care about him a great deal."

Kurt nods, his breath catching in his chest.

"So why don't we talk a little more today, and then we can talk about some future appointments." Kathryn picks up her notepad and pen again, sitting back in her chair.

"You don't think I should stop seeing him?" Kurt asks, just to make sure.

"I don't think you should do anything you feel uncomfortable with," Kathryn clarifies. "But I think you know yourself well enough to know what that means. And if you don't want to break up with him, then no, you shouldn't."

Kurt's chest loosens with his rush of breath and he feels better than he has in a few days. He nods at Kathryn, smiling and when she smiles back, Kurt thinks this will be good for him after all.

Kurt's eyes are wet when he opens the door to Dave, who pushes him back into his room and shuts the door with a look of concern.

"Is it your dad?" Dave asks, wiping Kurt's tears with his thumb before pulling him into a hug.

Kurt shakes his head, wrapping his arms around Dave's waist, liking the feeling of Dave's arms around him, Dave's lips pressing kisses to his head.

"Okay, shhh." Dave talks into Kurt's hair, murmurs and noises that make no sense, but make Kurt calm down all the same. "You wanna talk about it?"

"It's stupid," Kurt says into Dave's jacket, breathing in his scent.

"Hey, hey." Dave pulls back so he can look down at Kurt. "If it's got you this upset, it's not stupid."

Kurt laughs, sniffing and wiping his eyes before he reluctantly steps back from Dave. "It is. I was just watching a movie."

"Yeah?" Dave unwraps his scarf from around his neck and tosses it over the back of Kurt's chair before unbuttoning his jacket. "Which one?"

"Gone with the Wind." Kurt waves at the television as he crawls back onto his bed, sitting crossed-legged against the headboard. He watches as Dave takes off his shoes and pats the spot between him and the wall when it looks like Dave's going to sit at the foot. Dave stretches out on his side, his head propped on his elbow so he can still see Kurt.

"I've never seen it," Dave says. "What's so sad about it?"

"Oh, God," Kurt answers. "It's such a classic love story. You have to watch it."

"Do they not wind up together or something?" Dave asks. He rubs a finger up and down Kurt's thigh, but Kurt's not sure he even realizes what he's doing, because he hasn't stopped looking at Kurt's face.

"Well, no, but that's not why I was crying." Kurt stills Dave's finger, and Dave twists his hand around so their fingers are intertwined. "Scarlett just got back to Tara—her home—from Atlanta, which was on fire, and she found out her mother was dead."

"Ah." Dave squeezes his hand, thoughtful. "How old were you when your mom died?"

Kurt looks at him, surprised, but Dave has an expression of understanding on his face. "I was eight," he says quietly. "You'd think after twelve years I wouldn't cry over someone in a movie dying."

"I just think it means you still miss her," Dave says gently. "It's okay, you know. I still miss my mom."

Kurt releases Dave's hand and shifts so he's on his side, facing Dave, before he takes his hand again. "You don't talk about her at all. Is she…?"

"She took off when I was six." Dave shrugs. "I know it's not the same as you. I mean, I get the occasional card and phone call."

"I'm sorry." Kurt leans forward and gently kisses Dave's lips. Dave follows him when he starts to pull away and lets go of Kurt's hand to wrap his arm around Kurt's waist.

Kurt licks his lips, and Dave's tongue is there, pushing inside and tangling with his. Kurt sighs and opens his mouth wider, lets Dave take control before Kurt grabs Dave's hair and holds his head still, trading dominance back and forth. It's hot, in a way it's never been hot for Kurt before, and he knows he's getting off on the feel of Dave's big hand sliding up his back and moving them closer together like he weighs nothing. It's hot and it's scary at the same time, Kurt thinks, but he can't stop himself from slipping his right leg between Dave's and pressing their bodies close from head to toe.

Dave groans and rolls them over onto Kurt's back and yes, this is what Kurt's dreamed about, Dave's body pressing him into the mattress. He rolls his hips up and Dave drags both of his hands down Kurt's sides to grip his ass and Kurt tilts his head back with a choked off moan. Dave kisses his neck, teeth grazing the skin below Kurt's jaw and Kurt knows he'll have beard burn to cover with makeup the next day but he doesn't care and he tries to spread his legs so they can be even closer when Dave stops and pushes up on his elbows. They're both breathing hard, eyes wide, and Kurt can feel Dave's dick pressing against his hip so he lifts his head and tries to pull Dave down to meet him but Dave's shaking his head no.

"What, why?" Kurt sounds breathless and feels completely turned on. Dave groans and kisses him hard but rolls off him after a few seconds, grabbing Kurt's hand as they lie together, panting, and staring at the ceiling.

"You were upset," Dave says. "And I want you, I do, but not because you're sad."

"I wasn't doing this because I'm sad." Kurt turns his head and finds Dave already looking at him.

"I just…it's only been a few days, Kurt." Dave's face is serious and focused, his thumb an odd counterpoint against the back of Kurt's hand. "I don't want to rush you."

"You're not," Kurt protests. "I don't feel rushed. I just want this. I want you."

Dave smiles, and he looks so happy it takes Kurt's breath away for a second and his heart feels like it's going to burst out of his chest.

"That's good," Dave says. "Because we're gonna do this right—dinner, movie, everything. The perfect night. When you're ready."

"The perfect night?" Kurt laughs. "Well now you've just jinxed it."

"Nah. It'll be perfect because you'll be there." Dave rolls over toward him again and stretches across Kurt's body to grab the remote off his desk. Kurt licks his lips involuntarily and Dave's eyes darken slightly before he clears his throat and settles back against Kurt's side. "Now, we should start the movie over so I can see what makes this so classic."

"It's four hours long," Kurt warns, but he shifts into the little spoon position and grins when Dave tightens his arm around his stomach and pulls him closer. Dave's still hard and Kurt can't help pushing his ass back and giggling when Dave pinches him gently.

"Four hours, huh? Then just make sure you wake me up when it gets sad." Dave kisses Kurt's hair while pushing play, and Kurt doesn't think he'll get sad this time.

Kurt knocks on Dave's door again, but there's still no answer. Dave doesn't have class right now, but Kurt is supposed to be in Italian. He just didn't feel like going. He'd sat in Music and the Body all morning, but didn't absorb a single thing the prof said. Instead Kurt had spent the time daydreaming about Dave and all the things he wanted to do to him.

Things they still hadn't done, because they were still taking it slow. Kurt liked that Dave wanted to be sure, but it's been three weeks of holding hands and polite kisses. Kurt had actually complained to Kathryn about it the night before and she just gave him an arched brow and said Are you waiting for permission or something? Because that can only come from you, not Dave and not me.

Kurt had sat there, stunned, and realized she was right. He thought about it all night long, dreamed about it, fantasized about it in class, and Dave was missing.

Kurt pulls out his phone again, but Dave still hasn't answered his earlier text. Kurt drops his head on Dave's door with a sigh and wonders if he should go up to his room or just get to class twenty minutes late.

Room, definitely. He turns and heads to the stairwell just as Dave comes through the door, in a grey t-shirt with a vee of sweat down the front and red gym shorts, iPod clipped to the waistband. He's still breathing heavily and normally Kurt would find it all somewhat gross, but with Dave…nothing is normal where Dave is concerned.

"Hey," Dave says, surprised. "Italian canceled?"

"No, just didn't feel like going." Kurt leans a shoulder against the wall, watching Dave unlock his room. Kurt can smell him—sweaty and gross, yes, but just enough of his aftershave and what Kurt's come to think of as Dave's natural scent that it makes Kurt's mouth water.

Kurt thinks he's so ready for this step, so completely ready, that he's going slightly insane with want and longing.

"Kurt?" Dave's smiling at him, amused, and Kurt wonders just what he's missed in the last thirty seconds. He doesn't really care, though, and pushes off the wall to press his mouth to Dave's, intending to leave it at that, but his lips part without his permission and he's licking along the seam of Dave's lips before he realizes what he's doing.

Dave opens for him easily, and it's comfortable. But Kurt doesn't want comfortable anymore, he doesn't want safe and slow. He just wants Dave—over him, under him, touching him.

Dave pulls away with a lingering press of his lips and grins at Kurt before opening his door. Kurt follows him in, dropping his bag and coat by the wall with a thud before he grabs Dave's arm and spins him around. Kurt barely registers the look of surprise on Dave's face before he slides his hand along Dave's jaw, curls his fingers through the hair at the nape of Dave's neck, slick with sweat, and kisses him again.

Kurt hears the clatter of Dave's keys dropping to the ground a second before Dave's hands grip his hips and pull him closer. They're pressed together, shoulders to thighs, but it's not enough for Kurt, and he trails kisses up Dave's neck, the salty sweat delicious on his tongue. Kurt thinks he must be insane to find this as perfect as he does.

"Kurt," Dave tries to push him away gently. "I'm so gross right now."

"I don't care," Kurt mumbles against Dave's jaw, inhaling deeply as he nips at Dave's earlobe. "You smell like you, and I have wanted you for so long now."

Dave groans, tightening his hands on Kurt's hips before sliding them under his sweater, pushing it up as he draws patterns on Kurt's skin. "You have to tell me to stop," Dave says against Kurt's lips. "Tell me."

"I'm not going to," Kurt whispers, sweeping his tongue into Dave's mouth before pulling back. "I've been waiting for this for so long."

Dave laughs low in his throat, running a hand through Kurt's hair. "It's only been a few weeks," he says. "It only felt long."

"Longer," Kurt admits. His hands haven't stopped moving over Dave's body, up and down his arms, across his shoulders, down his chest. Kurt can't stop touching now that he's given himself permission and he wants more skin, pushing Dave's shirt up until Dave gets the hint and takes it off fully, dropping it on the floor.

"How long?" Dave asks, voice rough. "A month? Two?" He grabs Kurt's hands on his chest, holding them still. Kurt looks him in the eye, swallows tightly.

"Longer than I could admit to myself," Kurt says. He drops his gaze to their joined hands, wiggling his fingers so he can feel Dave's chest hair beneath his hand. "Months. Christmas."

"Christmas," Dave repeats, stunned.

Kurt chances a glance at him from under his lashes, and Dave is grinning, broad and stupid. Kurt rolls his eyes, but he can feel the corner of his mouth tugging up and pushes on Dave's chest with a laugh. Dave stumbles, off-balance and exaggerating the movements to stagger to his bed, collapsing on his back, left leg hanging off the bed.

"You don't need to look so smug about it," Kurt complains as he pulls his sweater off and begins unbuttoning his shirt. "I didn't realize it until we went shopping this summer."

Dave pushes up onto his elbows, watching Kurt avidly. "I almost kissed you that day," he says. "I thought it'd freak you out." Kurt toes off his shoes and slides his pants off, watching Dave lick his lips unconsciously when Kurt's left standing in his bright blue briefs.

"It would have," Kurt admits. He crosses to Dave and straddles his lap, running his hands through his chest hair. "I wasn't ready."

"And now?" Dave asks, staring at Kurt with so much emotion in his eyes that it honestly frightens Kurt a little. But nothing else does. Kurt isn't afraid, and he is so ready.

"Now," Kurt trails off, sliding his hands up to palm Dave's face and leans in to kiss him. Dave's arms go out from under him and he slides his hands up Kurt's thighs and pulls him down as he presses up. They both groan as their hips press together, Kurt rolling down to meet Dave, sprawling on top of him. Dave's hand slides up to grasp Kurt's ass through his briefs, squeezing, and Kurt pushes down harder, one hand in Dave's hair, the other reaching back to grab hold of Dave's fingers, moving with him.

Kurt can feel the strength Dave is holding back, and he wants more, rolling off Dave's body on to his left side. Dave follows, his right arm under Kurt, his hand tangled in Kurt's hair, holding him still as they kiss, tongues sliding together in the same rhythm as their bodies. Kurt wraps his leg around Dave's hips, bringing them closer, their hard cocks brushing through their clothes.

"Kurt," Dave gasps into his mouth. "I—oh, fuck, Kurt." Dave pushes him onto his back. Kurt spreads his legs, arching up to meet Dave's thrusts, his hands running over Dave's broad shoulders, down his sides, over his sweat-slicked skin, trying desperately to dig his fingers in, but finding it too slippery.

"I'm gonna—" Kurt gets out between breaths, wrapping his legs tighter around Dave, cursing the material of Dave's shorts, wishing they were naked. The images that hit his brain at that thought are enough to send him over the edge, and with Dave's hands tight on his hips, he comes, pressing his head back into the mattress, moaning Dave's name.

"Yeah, yeah," Dave repeats, saying Kurt's name over and over, mouthing at Kurt's neck until Kurt feels his hands on his ass, pressing them closer together and Dave shudders against him, holding him throughout until he collapses half-off Kurt, laughing into his shoulder.

"What's so funny?" Kurt asks, out of breath. He's grinning like a fool and he doesn't care.

"Nothing, just…" Dave pushes up onto an elbow over Kurt, smiling. He reaches out to brush Kurt's hair from his forehead, pressing a chaste kiss to Kurt's mouth. "Just happy, that's all."

"So am I," Kurt replies softly.

It's like once he gave his brain permission, touching Dave is all Kurt can think about. He thought it was bad before he'd skipped class earlier in the week, but after that he had better visuals to go with his fantasies. He can picture the hairiness of Dave's chest, his nipples—bigger than Kurt's and more sensitive. Kurt's fingers still tingle with the memory of running his hands over Dave's shoulders and down his back, and there's a pleasant ache in his thighs from spreading his legs wide as they've rolled around in bed.

Today they're being lazy, spending Sunday morning in Kurt's bed, still naked from the night before. It's nothing like he'd experienced with Blaine or even Colin. Back in high school he and Blaine had stolen moments, mostly at Kurt's house, before anyone else was home. They'd never spent the night together and woken up the next morning. Colin was always rushing off to rehearsal or to his job and Kurt would tumble out of bed and blearily get dressed before walking across campus to his own room.

But this…waking up together, knowing that they could go back to bed after brushing their teeth and using the bathroom, the thought of staying there for the whole day, it's heady and overwhelming and perfect all at the same time. Even though they're a little gross, sweaty from being under blankets with Dave putting out heat like an oven and sticky in spots from dried come they couldn't find with a towel in the middle of the night. He's learning that Dave's only ticklish in one spot, just above his hips, and Kurt runs his tongue over and over that spot, tasting the salty sweat, laughing when Dave flinches and pushes him away half-heartedly.

"Stop, you're making me crazy," Dave says. He runs his hand through Kurt's hair, tugging gently at what must be atrocious bedhead, and Kurt grins up at him, biting his hip gently. "All right, that is it."

Kurt isn't sure how Dave manages it, but suddenly he's on his back, and Dave's biting Kurt's hip instead and Kurt shrieks, laughing, flailing his arms and legs. Dave laughs, pinning Kurt's arms gently by his side as he kisses his way across Kurt's hip to nose at the base of Kurt's cock.

"Oh," Kurt breathes out. He lets his right leg splay open, the heel of his foot brushing Dave's side and he arches up with a gasp when Dave presses his open mouth against the underside of the head of Kurt's dick and sucks. It's almost overwhelming, the sudden sensation, and Kurt drags his foot up higher, pushing Dave closer to his body, opening wider for him.

Dave lets go of Kurt's arms to slide his hands under Kurt's ass, lifting him easily from the mattress, pushing him up into Dave's mouth. Kurt's still not fully hard, but he feels himself getting there, responding to the way Dave is pushing his legs apart, the stretch in his thighs burning bright. Kurt clenches the sheet in his hands, rolling his hips in time with Dave's tongue, lost in a haze of pleasure when he suddenly registers the air on his wet cock and Dave's tongue on his balls.

Kurt lifts his head up and meets Dave's eyes, gazing at him with heat and emotion. They stare at each other as Dave bows his head, licking under his balls, pushing into the skin there with his tongue.

"Fuck," Kurt cries, throwing his head back to look at the ceiling.

"Yeah?" Dave asks, licking again, firmer, moving lower.

"Are you…I'm not," Kurt tries to say. He's gross and dirty, they haven't showered, and no one has ever done this to him before. It never occurred to him with Blaine, and when he first started actively wanting it, he knew instinctively to not even bother trying it out with Colin.

Dave spreads Kurt's legs wider, splaying them out with his fingers, his thumbs between Kurt's ass cheeks, holding him open. "Shhh," Dave whispers. Kurt feels the rush of air on the sensitive skin as Dave exhales and it's his only warning before Dave licks over his asshole, the tip of his tongue barely pressing in.

"Oh shit," Kurt says. He leans up on his elbows, wanting to watch, but he can only see Dave's hair and forehead. Dave licks again and the effort to stay in that position becomes too much anyway, and he collapses back, rocking his hips up.

Kurt can feel one of Dave's thumbs moving across his opening, alternating with Dave's tongue until Kurt's body gives way and Kurt moans when Dave's big thumb pushes in and out. It's bigger, thicker than Dave's finger. They haven't gone much further than that yet, and Kurt wonders if they're out of order somehow, that maybe Dave licking his ass, putting his tongue inside of him is more intimate than actual fucking, but he can't really bring himself to care when it's this good.

Both of Dave's thumbs are holding Kurt open, and Dave's tongue is pushing in and out and Kurt realizes suddenly that he's fully hard, he hadn't even noticed it happening, and he wraps a hand around his cock, threading the other in Dave's hair, needing to touch him, to ground himself before he flies up off the bed.

Dave moans, his breath a loud burst of air in the room, pushing back into Kurt's hand briefly before he lowers his head again. Kurt's feet are on Dave's shoulders, slipping down the skin and his toes are curling as he moves his hand up and down his cock. He can feel his balls tightening, and Kurt digs his heels in for more leverage as he comes with a shout. Dave keeps licking him throughout and Kurt worries that he's hurting him with his feet and his legs that want to close, want to wrap around Dave's head and hold him there, but suddenly his body gives out and one leg falls to the bed.

Kurt pants, staring at the ceiling before lifting his head to see Dave look up, his mouth and chin obscenely wet. Dave's eyes are dark and hot, and Kurt reaches for him with the hand that was on his dick, still wet with his come. Dave moves up onto his knees, getting closer to Kurt and wraps his hand around Kurt's wrist, holding him still as he licks the come from Kurt's fingers.

"Dave," Kurt starts, "Come here, please, up here." He reaches for Dave's cock as Dave starts to move closer, and wraps his fingers around him.

"Kurt, shit," Dave barely says before he's coming, spraying on Kurt's stomach, mixing with Kurt's come so that after a few seconds he can't tell what was his and what's Dave's.

Dave's breathing hard, eyes wide and Kurt doesn't even think, just sits up and kisses him, tongue deep inside Dave's mouth before he realizes what he's doing and what he's tasting. Kurt doesn't care, though, pulling Dave down on top of him without breaking the kiss, smearing their come between them.

Dave pulls away first, looking down at Kurt, and Kurt thinks there's something in the way Dave looks at him that makes him feel bigger than he is, like this is bigger than anything he ever imagined. He wonders if his face shows Dave the same thing, because right now Kurt isn't sure that every emotion he's ever felt isn't plain for the world to see.

It's silly to take two separate cars home for Thanksgiving, but Kurt's Wednesday morning class is cancelled. Dave still has seminar until five, and Carole could really use Kurt's help getting ready for the holiday. Finn and Burt are swamped at the garage, and Abi's too little still to contribute anything other than turkeys traced around her hand and colored green.

"Yes, I promise to text when I get home," Kurt laughs. It's only two hours away, but he finds Dave's concern a little charming and tilts his head up for a kiss.

"Wish we could drive back together," Dave replies. "I feel like we haven't seen each other lately."

"I know." Kurt looks down at his boots. "But we'll see each other Friday, right?" Friday everyone has to work and Abigail is going to be at daycare and Kurt really wants to have Dave in his bedroom.

"Yeah, but it's Tuesday now." Dave slides a finger in the belt loop of Kurt's jacket to tug him closer and wraps his other arm around Kurt's shoulders. "Um. Hey, do you want to come over for dessert Thursday?"

Kurt stiffens, and Dave steps back again and looks at him, confused.

"Dessert? With, like, your family?" Kurt asks.

"Don't look so surprised, Kurt." Dave smiles. "We've been together for a few months, we live in the same town. It's not like this is some huge undertaking. It's just pie."

"Pie, right," Kurt laughs, uneasy. Pie, with Dave's family. "I'd love to come over for dessert. Should I bring anything?"

"Just you." Dave kisses him, softly, barely a press of lips. "My dad asks about you, you know, and the rest of the family is curious."

Kurt remembers Dave's dad, how surprised he was that Dave was threatening Kurt but agreeing that Dave deserved expulsion. And now, meeting him as Dave's boyfriend...it's weird, and it's hitting Kurt that they aren't living in a bubble anymore, that reality is going to come crashing down any second. This is probably something else he should talk about with Kathryn.

"I can't wait," Kurt replies, hoping Dave doesn't pick up on his forced cheerfulness. He kisses Dave again, before stepping fully away with a smile. "I should get going. Make it home in time for dinner."

"Okay." Dave sighs. "Drive safe and—"

"Text you when I get there, I know." Kurt finishes for him. He can't resist one last kiss on the cheek before he gets in the car. He pulls his sunglasses down off the top of his head and plugs in his iPod.

It's going to be a long two-hour drive. Dave wants to introduce Kurt as his boyfriend. Dave has told people back home that Kurt is his boyfriend. And Kurt's family can barely handle the fact that Kurt and Dave are on speaking terms.

Great. This must be why people always say holidays at home drive up depression and suicide rates. Because when you have a secret boyfriend who used to be your most feared bully, families are a bitch to navigate.

On a scale of Spanish Inquisition to firing squad, Kurt wonders what he's walking into as he rings the doorbell of Dave's house. He'd barely escaped questions from his own family regarding his new boyfriend, pretending that it was still too new and he didn't want to jinx the relationship by talking about it too much. He thinks he fooled everyone except Finn, who had looked at him with a sharply narrowed gaze before Kurt deflected the conversation by asking about Quinn.

Kurt startles when the door swings open, but he sighs when he sees it's only Dave, stepping out to greet him.

"Hey," Kurt says. "I brought a pie anyway." He holds up the pecan pie he'd made the night before, claiming it was for dessert at Rachel's house.

Dave smiles, taking the pie from Kurt's outstretched hands, and sets it on the porch railing before he cups Kurt's face and kisses him. Kurt smiles into the kiss, feeling lighter than he had since leaving campus on Tuesday.

"Hey, get that boy of yours in here, David!"

Kurt straightens with a start, and Dave shoots him an apologetic look before turning toward the open door, not letting go of Kurt's hand.

"Uncle Harry, you are seriously too nosy for your own good." Dave laughs, grabbing Kurt's pie with one hand and tugging on Kurt with the other.

Kurt steps around Dave and summons all the techniques learned in countless acting classes and plasters a broad smile on his face, accepting Harry's enveloping hug with an awkward one of his own.

"Well, you are just as cute as a button," Harry says. "David, you did not do this pretty face justice when you described him."

"Uncle Harry, stop, please, you're embarrassing." Dave opens the door and waves Harry inside, rolling his eyes at Kurt as he follows him in the house, through the empty living room into the dining room.

"Now, David, I am sure that Kurt here isn't embarrassed." Harry takes the pie from Dave and sets it on the table.

"I meant you were embarrassing me," Dave protests with a laugh. "Everyone, this is Kurt."

Kurt waves awkwardly as various greetings are shouted out. There aren't a lot of people in the room—Dave's dad and a woman he assumes is his girlfriend from the arm he has wrapped around her shoulder, another couple, and a girl and boy who look to be in that early-teen stage of perpetual annoyance. He should know; Kurt remembers that stage well.

Dave doesn’t take him around to meet everyone, and Kurt’s grateful. It seems that Dave bringing home someone isn’t that unusual, and Kurt has a fleeting moment of jealousy, wondering if Luke ever met Dave’s family. He knows Jason came at least once, but for reasons Kurt can’t explain fully, the thought of Luke being welcomed here upsets him much more.

"Kurt, good to see you again." Paul pats Kurt on the shoulder, and Kurt realizes that they’ve walked to the other side of the room. Dave’s talking to his aunt Beth, watching them out of the corner of his eye. "Thanks for coming tonight."

"Thanks for having me over, Mr. Karofsky." Kurt replies. "It’s great to meet Dave’s family."

"Please, call me Paul." Paul gets a serious look on his face, and Kurt braces himself for the inevitable. "Also, I want to say how happy I am that you and David were able to overcome your past. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not making light of what he did. But I’ve watched my son struggle to be himself since he was thirteen years old and, good or bad, you helped him become the man that he is now."

"Sir," Kurt starts, pausing to find the words. "I know not every gay kid is as lucky as I was—as I am—to have so much family support. I’m just glad Dave has it now."

"Kurt." Paul looks at him with a sad expression and Kurt mentally kicks himself for what he just said. "David always had my support. And the family's support. When my brother came home after his freshman year at college and said he'd met the love of his life and his name was Roger, well…our parents couldn't handle having a gay son and barely talked to him after that. And I swore I’d never do that to my kid." Paul pauses, and they both look at Dave, serving pie to his cousins. "David just had to get to the point where he believed it."

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—"

"No, it’s okay." Paul interrupts with a forgiving smile. "Given all that’s happened, I can understand why you thought that. Why David thought that. I’m just happy, for the both of you. He really cares about you."

"I know," Kurt replies softly. Dave looks up at him, grinning, and Kurt smiles back. "I care about him a lot, too."

"I can tell." Paul pats him on the shoulder before crossing the room to his girlfriend.

Kurt looks around awkwardly for a few seconds. Dave is still at the dessert table, so Kurt sits on the sofa, smiling politely at Dave's aunt Beth. The cousins are on the floor and Kurt quickly learns from their conversation that their names are Amy and Jeremy, they're both freshman at McKinley, they're twins, and Mr. Schue and Miss Pillsbury got trapped in the janitor's closet on the second floor the week prior.

"Jackson said that when they came out Mr. Schue's shirt was totally buttoned wrong and that Pillsbury's skirt was on backward!" Amy exclaimed.

"I bet she was just overly excited about being around all those cleaning supplies," Jeremy snorts.

Kurt stifles a laugh, about to share all the gossip he knows, when Dave sits next to him and offers him a slice of cherry pie.

"It's good. Uncle Harry made it." Dave says.

"Does it make grown men cry?" Kurt asks with a smirk.

Dave chuckles. "Warrant, really? I'm impressed."

"Songs with disturbing innuendo was a much-used theme in glee club," Kurt replies. "And it seems that even though we've been out of high school for years, some things never change." Kurt waves his fork in the direction of Amy and Jeremy. "Schue and Pillsbury are still dancing around each other, according to them."

"Some things don't change, that's true. You've got some—here." Dave wipes a bit of cherry filling from Kurt's mouth and licks his finger. "Still, I'm glad some things do change. Aren't you?"

"Yes," Kurt replies. "Very much so." He can't help it, and even as he leans forward to kiss Dave, he hears the twins gossiping and the rest of Dave's family quietly talking, and wishes he could do this in his own living room, Abigail running around and his parents smiling at them from the corner.

"So this is your room?" Dave looks around with interest. "It's really…plaid."

"Yeah, I haven't redecorated in two years. It's so out of style now." Kurt follows Dave through the door and tries to see it through Dave's eyes. "And really plaid."

Dave laughs as he walks around, fingering the detritus of Kurt's teenage years, picking up framed photographs to look at more closely, touching the spines of books.

"I like it. It's very you." Dave leans back against Kurt's dresser, holding out a hand toward Kurt. "C'mere."

Kurt smiles, taking Dave's hand and lets himself get pulled in for a hug. They're silent for a few moments, and it's nice, standing in his room, his head on his boyfriend's shoulder. Dave presses a kiss to Kurt's temple, and Kurt tightens his hands briefly before leaning back to kiss Dave softly on the lips.

"So, my family thinks you're great, you know." Dave grins at him. Kurt can't help but to duck his head, faking shyness, so he doesn't have to see Dave's face. Dave looks so happy and content, and Kurt still hasn't told his family.

"They're great," Kurt says, moving away to sit on his bed. "Your dad, the rest of the family…they were so nice to just welcome me like that."

"Why wouldn't they?" Dave crosses his arms in front of his chest, a confused look on his face.

Kurt shrugs. "After everything that’s happened between us…they didn’t have to accept me so easily."

"Yeah, but they accept me, so of course they’d accept someone I…someone I’m dating." Dave sits next to him on the bed, one leg tucked up so he’s facing Kurt. "What’s on your mind?"

Kurt shifts, buying time, adjusting so he can see Dave in front of him. While he loves that Dave can mostly read his mind, Kurt hates that he hopes Dave never fully succeeds, because he’s keeping so much from him. Dave’s so open with his family and Kurt still hasn’t found the words to tell his. There's a closet metaphor in there somewhere, Kurt's sure.

"Can I ask you something?" Kurt waits for Dave’s you’re kidding, right? look before continuing. "Tell me about your Uncle Harry."

"There's not much to tell." Dave leans back against the footboard, relaxing. "It's always been him and Uncle Roger, as long as I can remember. Harry was this crazy popular drag queen in the Chicago scene back in the day. Now he only does a show once or twice a month, usually hosting."

"Was he always so…flamboyant…around you, when you were growing up?" Kurt asks.

"Not always. Depended on who was around." Dave chuckles. "Depended on whether or not he was fighting with Roger."

"Meaning?"

"They have these crazy fights once every five years or so and break up when Harry thinks Roger’s done something stupid, which he usually hasn’t done. I think his inner queen takes over when he's pissed." Dave tugs on Kurt’s ankle, and Kurt stretches out on the bed, his head pillowed on Dave’s lap, staring at his open door. "Roger wasn’t there last night because they’re in the middle of one of those fights. Though I bet he’ll be there by the time I get home today. The fights never last for long."

Kurt thinks about it, this influence on Dave’s outlook as a kid. He sighs when Dave runs a finger along his hairline, careful to not disturb his styling.

"Did you think they were wrong, being gay?" Kurt finally asks.

Dave’s quiet, clearly thinking before he responds. "Not at first? Like, they were just Uncle Harry and Uncle Roger, y’know? And then I got a little older, saw how they were treated by other people." He stops, and Kurt reaches up to twine his fingers with Dave's and receives an acknowledging squeeze. "Then when I was twelve or so, and I was just starting to think that girls would never stop being gross but I didn’t get why…Az met Harry and Roger at a neighborhood barbeque. And he gave me so much shit for having a fag for an uncle. How gross it was that a guy would do that with another guy. And I tried to defend it at first, because they’re my family, you know? And Az said I must be a fag, too, if I thought it was okay. And it scared me, because I was afraid he was right."

Kurt blinks back tears as he sits up, twisting to kneel between Dave’s legs. He’s doesn’t have the words to tell Dave how much he wishes things had been different back then and even with that thought, he wonders if they’d be here, together, if it had. Instead he kisses Dave, hands on Dave’s shoulders, trying to explain it without words. Dave kisses back, just as fierce, until they both are panting for breath and staring at each other with only inches between them.

"I wish—" Kurt starts to say.

"I know, I know." Dave rests his forehead against Kurt’s. "It’s in the past. I mean, I still deal with it, but I’m not that guy anymore."

"I know you’re not," Kurt replies. "You’re my guy." It sounds cheesy as hell, but Dave’s smile is worth it.

"Yeah?" Dave's smile turns devious. "You should show me."

Kurt slides off the bed and pulls Dave to stand before him. He kisses Dave briefly before guiding him over to the dresser. He's thought about this before, and while it doesn't always end on his bed, it always starts this way.

"Kurt," Dave says in a warning tone as Kurt takes a few steps back.

Tucking his hands into his back pockets, Kurt smirks, just out of Dave's reach. "Something on your mind, Karofsky?"

His own voice sounds sultry and evidently it works on Dave, because suddenly Dave's lunges forward and his hands are in Kurt's hair and they're kissing as if they haven't seen each other in weeks. Dave's tongue presses into Kurt's mouth, hot and wet and Kurt can't hold back a needy whimper. He runs his hands up Dave's arms, across his broad shoulders to sink his fingers into Dave's curls, pulling him closer. The angle of the kiss changes then, becomes even more desperate and Kurt sucks on Dave's tongue, his bottom lip, biting and whispering how much he wants Dave.

"Yeah, yes," Dave groans, before capturing Kurt's lips again. Kurt pushes at the hem of Dave's sweater, moving it up his body before pulling back just long enough to yank it over Dave's head and drop it on the floor. "God, it's been forever, Kurt."

"It's been—oh, yes, there—a week," Kurt gasps, tilting his neck further to the side to let Dave drag his teeth slowly up to his ear, whimpering again when Dave bites his earlobe gently.

"Like I said, forever." Dave kisses him again and starts unbuttoning Kurt's shirt while Kurt goes for Dave's belt. He doesn't bother to do more than unbuckle it before fumbling with the button and zipper on Dave's jeans pressing his hand against Dave's erection purposefully. "Oh, fuck yes, Kurt. Fuck."

Kurt smiles into the kiss, and slips his hand through the slit in Dave's boxers, moaning with Dave as he grasps the hot flesh of Dave's cock in his hand.

"Yeah, okay, I agree with forever," Kurt says. He looks down, watching his hand move up and down, thumbing the head. Dave gasps and kisses him again, pushing Kurt's shirt off his shoulders, running his hands over Kurt's skin as it goes.

Kurt steps back and grabs Dave's hands and guides them back to the dresser. "Hold on," he orders, gently kissing Dave before sinking to his knees.

"Kurt," Dave chokes out. "Holy fuck, man."

Kurt looks up at him while pulling his cock from his boxers. "I thought about this, over the summer," Kurt admits. "Before we'd even kissed. We'd hang out and I'd come home and I'd lay in that bed over there and wonder what it would be like to touch you. To kiss you. To do this."

Kurt bows his head and takes Dave's cock into his mouth, not going slow like he had the first time they did this, but sucking hard and fast, swallowing down halfway before pulling back to the tip. He circles his tongue around the head, gathering the moisture leaking out and groans when he feels Dave's hand in his hair. Kurt looks up and smirks around Dave's cock before closing his eyes and letting Dave guide him gently back down.

It's hot and awesome and Kurt can't wait to get Dave naked in his childhood bed. Dave's right, a week is basically forever.

"Hey, dude, we're gonna—what the fuck?" Finn's shocked voice cuts through the haze and Dave lets go of Kurt's hair and turns around so abruptly that Kurt actually loses his balance and falls on his ass. "The fuck are you doing, Karofsky?"

"Finn," Kurt says, scrambling to his feet, putting himself between Dave and his brother. He winces when the sound of Dave's zipper echoes through the room. "It's not what it looks like." Dave turns back around, and Kurt can feel him at his back, strong and there for him.

"Oh?" Finn looks murderous. "Because to me it looks like he was forcing you to…to…y'know!"

"Finn, man," Dave begins, but Kurt reaches behind to grab Dave's hand, squeezing it, but it doesn't stop Dave from talking. "What, he can't think we don't have sex, Kurt!"

"You what?" Finn practically screeches. "Since when do you have sex with my brother?"

"Since we're together? Dude." Dave puts a hand on Kurt's shoulder and spins him around. "Kurt, you haven't told him, have you?"

Kurt looks between Finn and Dave, and he can feel it the moment Finn gets it, that Kurt's been lying to everyone about who his boyfriend is. Worst of all, he can feel it when Dave gets it, and he wants to beg but he closes his eyes against the hurt he sees on Dave's face instead.

"I gotta go," Dave says.

"No!" Kurt opens his eyes and reaches for Dave, but he's moved toward the door. "Dave, please, let me explain."

"Nah, it's okay, I get it." Dave pulls his sweater back on. "Of course you wouldn't want to tell your family about me. Tell them I've changed. Tell them that I—" Dave stops and Kurt wants him to continue desperately, to hear what he was going to say. "I can't believe this, Kurt. Especially after what I told you."

"I gotta go," Dave repeats. "Finn, man. Sorry you had to see that. Kurt, I…yeah."

Dave walks out and Finn's left staring at him and Kurt doesn't know what to say and it hits him that he can't say anything at all, because he's choking back tears and he wraps his arms around his chest, surprised when he feels skin. He looks around for his shirt, but everything is blurry and he gives up, squeezing his arms tighter.

"I was coming in to tell you that Mom told me she's not in the mood for leftovers and we're all supposed to meet at the Chinese place," Finn says. He's still angry, but he looks disappointed, too, and Kurt's chest starts to hurt. "You have to tell them, Kurt. You have to, or I will." He starts to leave, but pauses without turning around. "And next time you're going to blow some dude in your bedroom, shut the door first." Of course he slams the door behind him.

Kurt crosses the room in a daze and sinks onto the bed, staring at his dresser. Things are slightly out of place, probably jostled by Dave's hands and Kurt wonders how this all got away from him so fast.

Kurt's pushing his sweet and sour chicken around his plate, listening to his parents make small talk about Abi's daycare with only half an ear. Finn's glowering at him, though it doesn't stop him from inhaling his food like a caveman, and Abi's blissfully ignorant, feeding her doll Cheerios.

"Kurt!"

He jumps, realizing that everyone is staring at him. "Yeah, Dad?"

"I asked you what you got up to today. You seem pretty down." Burt leans across the table with a smile. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

Finn snorts, coughing into his fist, and takes the glass of water Carole pushes toward him with a grateful smile.

"Nothing, Dad. Just hung out, I guess." Kurt glares at Finn briefly before looking back at his plate.

"All right, what was that look?" Carole asks. "Here Abigail, eat some chicken." She hands Abi a piece of breaded chicken, which she immediately tosses on the floor. Kurt leans over to pick it up, and Finn takes the opportunity to kick him in the shin.

"What look?" Burt asks, glancing between Kurt and Finn.

"Nothing! God." Kurt sighs. "I'm just tired, that's all."

"Wonder why," Finn mutters, not under his breath at all.

"Finn, would you just shut up!" Kurt exclaims.

"Watch your language in front of your sister," Burt says. "She's at that age where she repeats everything."

Kurt apologizes and offers Abi some of his own chicken, which she takes happily. Everyone's quiet for a minute, eating, and Kurt hopes they can just make it home without incident. Maybe by then he'll have worked up the courage to talk to his dad, alone. Kurt still isn't sure how his dad will react to the news that he's dating Dave Karofsky.

If, in fact, he's still dating him. It's not like Dave returned any of his earlier phone calls.

"Kurt has Stockholm Syndrome," Finn blurts out.

There's silence at the table before his Dad bursts in to laughter.

"Finn," Kurt warns. "I don't think that means what you think it means."

"Oh?" Finn raises his eyebrow at Kurt, making him wonder if Finn's been practicing in the mirror. "I think it means you have inappropriate feelings for your tormentor. In other words, I think it means you like giving Karofsky blow jobs where any innocent person can walk in and be traumatized for life!"

"Oh my God, and people say I'm the drama queen in this family?" Kurt bites out. "At most you saw the same thing you saw in the locker room every day—his penis. It's not like we were actually fu—"

"Let me remind you that your sister is at this table, and that this table is in a restaurant!" Burt interrupts loudly. "Not to mention the fact that I don't really want to hear all the details of you and—did he say Karofsky?"

Kurt closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He hopes fervently that he's somehow dreaming, that he isn't being forced to have this conversation at Mr. Chow's of all places. Chopsticks never seemed like weapons before, but now he's thinking about stabbing Finn in the eye with one.

"Kurt?" Carole's voice is gentle, quiet and calm. He still doesn't open his eyes.

"Kurt." Burt's voice, on the other hand, is firm.

"Yes Dad?" Kurt opens his eyes calmly, avoiding looking in Finn's direction.

"Did your brother just say you were…doing stuff with Karofsky?" Burt looks uncomfortable, like he's dreading this conversation as much as their sex talks in high school.

"Yes, that's what Finn said." Kurt picks up a piece of broccoli, chewing it slowly.

"They're doing more than stuff," Finn protests. He glances at Abigail before turning to Burt. "I caught them, y'know." He makes a rude gesture. "And I don't think it was their first time. He's your tormentor."

"He's not my tormentor, you idiot, he's my boyfriend." Kurt retorts.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Finn exclaims. "Karofsky can't—"

"Finn." Carole places her hand on Finn's arm. "Let Kurt talk."

"Listen, Kurt. I know you two have worked past your issues," Burt pauses. "And I get that you might be lonely. But I’m not sure casual…" He looks at Abi, picking up her carrots with her fingers. "I'm not sure you should let him use you like that."

"He's not using me, Dad." Kurt sets his chopsticks down and crosses his arms across his chest, leaning back from the table.

"See? Stockholm Syndrome!" Finn declares triumphantly.

"Using each other, then," Burt says, ignoring Finn. "Don't get me wrong, I know what it's like to be young and…randy, but—"

"Ew," Kurt interrupts, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "Please don't ever give me that mental image again."

"Burt," Carole says calmly. "Maybe we should all let Kurt talk without trying to guess what's going on." Kurt shoots her a grateful look and takes a deep breath when Burt indicates that Kurt should start talking.

"Dave and I have been together since the beginning of the semester. He’s not my tormentor, it’s not casual, and it wasn’t because I was lonely." Kurt looks his father in the eye. "I…like him. A lot."

"Why didn't you say something before now?" Burt asks.

"Because I didn't know how you'd react." Kurt swallows heavily. "You didn't exactly welcome our friendship with open arms. And I wanted to be sure."

"Sure of what, honey?" Carole asks. She's holding Abi on her lap now, handing her bits of chicken and carrots on a spoon.

"How I felt?" Kurt laughs, short. "What you guys would say. But when Finn came home early and caught us…Dave realized I hadn't told any of you. And he left."

"There's a surprise," Finn spits out. "That guy's no good, Kurt."

"Can we not do this again?" Kurt asks with a sigh. "He's changed. We've both changed. I forgave him a long time ago. You need to get over it."

"Kurt," Burt speaks over Finn's sputtering. "Exactly how serious is this?"

"After today?" Kurt shrugs. "He's probably never going to talk to me again."

"Good. Ow!" Finn rubs his arm, pouting at Carole who merely raises an eyebrow at him. Abi giggles and leans over to swat at Finn's arm as well.

"If he's as upset as you are over whatever happened earlier—and I assume there's more to the story than what has been implied—then I think he'll take your call inviting him to dinner tomorrow night." Burt holds up his hand, staving off Kurt's protest. "Dinner tomorrow night. Finn will be elsewhere, right? With Rachel, maybe."

"Rachel's not in town," Kurt says, shooting down the glint of excitement in Finn's eye.

"I thought you brought her and her dads pie last night?" Carole asks.

"Um," Kurt looks at his plate. "No. I brought it to Dave's, for dessert with his family." Kurt plays with the chopsticks next to his plate.

"Oh, Kurt." Carole sighs. "So you mean he introduced you to his family the night before he found out you hadn't told us anything?"

"Pretty much." Kurt shakes his head. "Now do you see? He must hate me."

"Kurt, he doesn't hate you." Burt rests his elbows on the table. "And if he does, he's not worth it. But I'm sure if you call him, apologize, and then invite him to dinner, he'll see how much you care about him."

Kurt looks up at his dad and sees that Burt means it, that his dad really wants him to be happy, even if it's with someone Burt has hated for years. He swallows the lump in his throat.

"Okay. I'll call him." Kurt just hopes Dave picks up.

"What do you think they're talking about in there?" Kurt accepts the wet dish Carole hands him, oblivious to the water falling on the linoleum as he dries it. He's staring at Dave and his dad talking in the living room. No one's screamed or stormed out yet, so it can't be all that bad.

"Kurt, honey, the floor," Carole reminds him. "And I'd imagine they're talking about you. Or maybe Michigan's chance at a bowl game. Again."

Kurt sets the plate in the drying rack and moves on to the glasses set on a towel next to the sink. "Yeah, but you don't think Dad's telling him to back off, do you?" He looks back over his shoulder to make sure Dave's still there.

"For the tenth time, no," Carole laughs. "Your father just wants to get to know the man Dave has grown into. And probably tell him to treat you right, too, but I made him promise to behave."

The silverware clanks together as she swishes it around in the bottom of the sink and Kurt focuses on the noise, trying to drown out his rapidly beating heart.

"Do you think I'm making a mistake? Dating him?" Kurt asks quietly. He's afraid of her answer.

She's quiet for a few minutes, washing each piece of silverware before dropping it on the towel. "I think that you've been through an awful lot for a young man of your age. And I think that if there's anything you've learned by now it's how to trust your own heart." She covers the hand Kurt has fisted on the counter with her own soapy one. "You've always been mature beyond your years, Kurt, and if you care about him, if being with him makes you happy, then no, I don't think it's a mistake."

"He really does make me happy," Kurt says. "It scares me a little. I mean, back before we even kissed, it was hard for me to admit it to myself."

"What changed?" Carole drains the sink, rinsing her hands and wiping down the counter. Kurt drapes the dishtowel over the rack to dry before joining her at the island, perched on tall stools.

"Um…I went to see a therapist at school. I just thought—well, Dave thought and I agreed—that maybe I hadn't fully processed everything he and I had gone through in high school." Kurt picks at the coffee cake sitting between him and Carole. "She helped me sort out everything in my head."

"Honey, why didn't you say anything about this before? Whenever we asked you about it, you insisted you didn't need to talk to anyone." Carole looks sad, like she's failed him somehow and Kurt's reminded again about how lucky he is to have gotten another chance at having a mother.

"I thought I didn't," Kurt admits. "I really thought I was okay with it all. You and dad can't feel bad about that. You shouldn't."

Carole still looks concerned, but Burt and Dave come into the kitchen then, and Kurt leans against Dave unconsciously when he stands by Kurt's stool. Carole smiles at them, leaning on Burt the same way.

"Kurt, why didn't you tell me that Dave collects old license plates?" Burt asks excitedly. "I'm going to take him out to the garage to show him the ones I have."

"Dad, don't—wait, what? You collect license plates?" Kurt looks up at Dave. "I didn't know that."

"It's not a big deal. I just found a bunch the year Dad and I took a summer road trip." Dave shrugs. "I only have ten or so."

"Still! No one's ever understood the beauty of a complete set of plates before." Burt says.

"I wonder why," Kurt says under his breath. Dave elbows him and Kurt smiles in apology.

"Dave, come on. I'll show you the collection I started for Kurt—a plate for each state the year he was born." Burt claps his hands. "I've got forty-seven of them now."

Dave looks at Kurt and Kurt sighs. "Go on. Otherwise we'll be talking about this the rest of the night."

"I'll be back in a few minutes," Dave says, dropping a kiss on the top of Kurt's hair before following Burt out the door.

"Well, I don't think you have to worry about them getting along," Carole offers.

"It's funny. When I was at Dave's the other night, I wished for this, for him to feel comfortable with my family." Kurt sighs. "This wasn't quite what I had in mind. We're never going to get Dad to get rid of those plates now."

"Everything has a price," Carole says in agreement. "More cake?"

It's snowing heavily by the time Kurt makes his way back to Couzens from the costume shop, the flakes glinting in the yellow lights that dot the pathway. It's almost one in the morning, but Kurt hadn't finished sewing until after eleven, and then he'd had to put it all together on display, from original costume design sketches to finished product in his corner of the shop. He hadn't been the only one still working right up until the midnight deadline, but he'd stayed the latest, cleaning up his area and packing his box back up so he wouldn't have to fetch it the next day.

Kurt's exhausted, tired to his bones, but he only has one proper final this term, and it's not for a few more days and he's pretty sure he can pass Italian in his sleep. Essentially, he's done, and all he can think about is crawling into bed with Dave and not getting up again for twenty-four hours. He contemplates going up the few extra floors to his room to drop everything off, but he thinks if he does that he'll pass out face down in his own bed, and that's not really what he wants right now.

He lets himself in, setting his things down quietly next to Dave's desk once he sees Dave asleep, propped up against the headboard, anatomy textbook open on his lap. The bed is made, sheets changed, and Kurt realizes that Dave's room is probably the cleanest it's been all semester. Kurt slips the book off Dave's lap, sticking in the pen dangling loosely in Dave's fingers to mark his place before setting it on top of his own Italian book, still open on Dave's desk.

Kurt shrugs off his coat and toes off his boots as silently as he can at the same time. Dave doesn't move, head tilted back against the wall, soft breaths coming steadily, and Kurt takes time to look at him. He hasn't shaved in a day or two, but he's the lucky type of guy whose scruff looks hot after five o'clock, while Kurt looks like a boy hoping his mustache will grow in someday. Dave's still dressed for some reason, jeans and a button-down, but his feet are bare. It hits him that Dave was probably trying to wait up for him, knowing that after Kurt submitted his designs they could spend more than twenty minutes awake together for the first time in a week. Except Kurt had screwed that up by ruining the hem of his skirt and having to rip it out to start over.

He sighs and pushes all thoughts of costume design out of his head until next semester. Tonight he just wants to sleep, and he undresses down to his t-shirt and briefs before grabbing the blanket from the bottom of Dave's bed to wrap up in. Kurt slips onto the mattress gently, careful to not disturb Dave and the last thing he remembers is the feeling of Dave's hand settling on his hair as he drops to sleep, his head pillowed on Dave's thigh.

When Kurt blinks his eyes open again, it's to find he's alone in bed and that it's just after four in the morning. He pushes up onto his elbows, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness when he sees the light spilling out from under the bathroom door. He rolls onto his side and is trying to pull the covers down without actually getting up when Dave opens the door and the room fills with soft light.

"Hey." Dave's voice is rough with sleep and Kurt can see he's not wearing anything but boxers now. "When did you get in?"

"Little before one," Kurt answers around a yawn. "I didn't want to wake you."

"Should have," Dave says. He helps Kurt adjust the sheets and covers him back up before crawling in next to him. "Missed you."

Kurt hums in response, curling back up against Dave's side, running his hand through Dave's chest hair before stopping at his shoulder. Dave slides his hand down Kurt's back to his hips, pushing at his t-shirt until Kurt feels his warm hand on his skin, and he shivers involuntarily, shifting closer to Dave.

"Shit, I left the light on." Dave groans, and he moves like he's going to get back up and Kurt tightens his hold on Dave's shoulder and moves closer, throwing a leg over Dave's thigh.

"Leave it," Kurt mumbles. "It doesn't bother me." Dave relaxes again and pulls Kurt closer. Kurt's so tired, but the movement causes his sadly neglected dick to rub against Dave's leg and his exhaustion is immediately at war with his desire. He pushes closer on his own, pretending to shift positions. His cock jumps in his briefs and he can tell Dave has felt it because of the slight tightening of Dave's grip on his hip.

Kurt blinks his eyes open and looks down the length of Dave's body, and he can see that Dave's aroused. Not fully hard, but definitely interested. He slides his hand down Dave's chest slowly, loving the tingling sensation of hair on his fingertips. Kurt pauses at the waistband of Dave's boxers before continuing over the fabric, searching for the slit to slip his fingers through.

Dave inhales sharply when Kurt brushes the head of his cock with a finger, but doesn't otherwise react. Kurt keeps his touch gentle, teasing, and rocks his hips slowly so Dave can feel the swell of Kurt's dick against his thigh. Dave's getting harder and the fingers on Kurt's hip twitch just before Dave pushes his hand beneath Kurt's underwear and squeezes his ass in one big hand.

Kurt wraps his fingers fully around Dave's cock, moving up and down slowly, in time with the movement of his hips. Dave's breath is coming faster and he moves his hand so that his finger is brushing against Kurt's anus every time Kurt rocks back.

They're both quiet, the sounds their bodies make together the only noise in the room, and Kurt finds it unbearably arousing to not talk throughout this. He wants it, and he knows Dave wants it, and he doesn't want to have to talk about it. Kurt just wants to take it.

He pulls off Dave's cock to slide his boxers further down Dave's waist and Dave starts to do the same to him until they both realize it would be easier if each did his own. Kurt rolls onto his back, lifting his hips to slide his briefs off, kicking them into the air once they're at his feet. He sits up to pull his t-shirt off and as soon as his head is free Dave pushes him onto his back, spreading his legs to rest between them.

Kurt strains his neck up to reach Dave's lips with his own, kissing him deeply for what feels like the first time in days. He wraps his arms around Dave's neck, digging his fingers into Dave's broad shoulders. Dave braces himself on his right elbow, lowering his weight onto Kurt as they thrust against each other. He reaches away slightly and Kurt almost asks him where he's going, but then he's back, a bottle of lube and a condom in his hand.

They stop moving abruptly to stare at each other. Kurt sees the question and hesitance in Dave's eyes, knows that all he'd have to do is shake his head and those would be dropped on the floor and they could go on as they have been, blowjobs and hands. But Kurt nods yes and at the surge of heat that flares in Dave's eyes he knows he made the right choice tonight and all those weeks ago.

Kurt reaches out and takes the condom from Dave and spreads his legs further, hitching his right leg high up on Dave's hips. Dave groans and pops the lid off the lube with his thumb and reaches between them, sitting back on his haunches so he can use both hands.

Kurt gasps as the cold liquid touches his skin, but pushes his hips forward for more when Dave gently sinks a finger inside. He watches Dave's face as he pulls his finger out and slides back in with two, until the brush of a crooked knuckle touches his prostate and he can't stop Dave's name from escaping, breaking the silence in the room.

"Kurt," Dave croaks out. Kurt just tears the foil with his teeth, sitting up to roll the condom down on Dave's cock, moaning as Dave's fingers slip deeper in his ass. Kurt leans back down, reluctantly letting go of Dave as he does.

"You're gorgeous, you know," Dave whispers. He's running his hand up and down the inside of Kurt's thigh, and Kurt shivers at the touch. "I still can't believe you're here with me."

"I want to be," Kurt says. He stares up at Dave as he places the head of his cock at Kurt's entrance and Kurt nods again, encouraging. Dave presses forward and it's slow, so slow, and Kurt arches up against him, trying to get closer, sliding his arms around Dave's broad shoulders for more leverage.

"What—Kurt, God, I don't know how—" Dave breaks off, dropping his head to kiss Kurt's jaw, his neck.

"For someone who doesn't know how, you're doing a—fuck—fantastic job," Kurt breathes, almost giggling.

"Shh," Dave laughs, kissing his chin before pushing up onto his elbows, moving slowly again. "I just meant that—"

"I know," Kurt whispers, suddenly somber. He bites his lip, suppressing the words that are about to spill out before he is ready to say them. Instead he slides a hand down to press against Dave's heart, feeling the steady beat for a few seconds before he continues down to grip Dave's side, just above where his legs are wrapped around him.

They fall quiet again, listening to the sounds their bodies make as they move together. Dave's fully inside him now, thick and hot, and Kurt knows Dave's cock isn't ridiculously huge, but it feels that way as Dave moves. It must be the breadth of Dave's shoulders above him, the difference in their sizes that's appealed to Kurt for longer than he could admit to himself making him feel small and protected and wanted all at the same time. Dave isn't heavy, but he's wide and Kurt kind of hopes his thighs never completely adjust to wrapping around Dave's body, because he's already looking forward to the burn he'll feel tomorrow.

It hits Kurt like a train, how close he is to coming, and he reaches between them to wrap a hand around his dick. He doesn't even realize he's closed his eyes until they fly open when Dave's hand joins his, pulling him closer to orgasm. Dave's mouth is open, gasping, and his eyes are squeezed shut and it's so hot, seeing him like this, because of Kurt.

Kurt opens his mouth and he knows he's about to say something stupid again, to declare it too soon, so he surges up and slams his mouth against Dave's to stop himself. It's rough and clumsy at first and Kurt thinks he might have hit his lip on Dave's teeth, but he doesn't care because Dave's moving faster and their kiss morphs into them just breathing into each other's mouths.

It's perfect and Kurt lets go of his dick, trusting Dave to get him there and wraps both hands tight in Dave's hair and groans, eyes wide and staring at Dave above him. He's gorgeous like this, and Kurt never thought he'd want to be here but can't imagine being anywhere else, ever.

"Dave," Kurt moans.

"C'mon Kurt," Dave replies and stupidly that's the thing that sends Kurt over the edge, his name in Dave's sex-roughed voice.

When he opens his eyes again, Dave's staring down at him, and Kurt arches up to meet him and Dave starts thrusting faster, putting all of his weight into it, hands planted in the mattress on either side of Kurt's head. Kurt thinks stupidly that he could spend eternity like this, watching Dave on the brink of ecstasy, but then Dave shouts his name and pushes in hard, his eyes rolling back and his mouth open and panting, and this, this Kurt wants to watch forever.

He bites back words again, holding onto Dave, running his hands over sweat-slicked skin, and he can feel Dave's hands carding through his hair, can hear the words whispered in his ears.

It's perfect.

"Does it bother you that Karofsky's not here for Christmas?" Finn hands him another piece of tape and Kurt applies it precisely to the middle of the present he's wrapping. "I mean, it's your first one together."

Kurt raises an eyebrow at him. "You suddenly care?"

"I care about you!" Finn exclaims, leaning forward. "And if Karofsky makes you happy for now—"

"Not just for now," Kurt interrupts quietly. "I mean, I hope not just for now. I really care about him."

"Yeah?" Finn presses his index finger to the knot while Kurt ties the ribbon. "Do you love him?"

Kurt remains quiet for a few seconds, focusing on curling the ribbon before affixing the bow to Abigail's present. "I think so. I just…what if he's just in it for now?"

"Kurt." Finn shakes his head. "After everything you two have been through, just to get where you are…you honestly think he sees this ending after college?"

Kurt shrugs. "I don't know." He picks up the next toy in Abi's pile; Santa's being very generous to her this year.

"You haven't talked to him about it?" Finn scoffs at him. "Since when are you such a chickenshit?"

"Since I'm scared!" Kurt blurts out. "I want to go to Chicago after school, work in the theater. And Dave wants to teach and coach and—"

"You are aware that they have schools in Chicago, right? Like, a lot of them, I'd bet." Finn hands him the scissors to cut the wrapping paper.

"Yeah, but I don't think he wants to work in the city." Kurt sighs. "And what if he doesn't get a job there at all?"

"I think you're getting ahead of yourself," Finn says. "Talk to him. Because if you're really not on the same page, you should see if you can get there before it's too late and you're in different books."

"What are they teaching you at that college of yours? That was a shockingly not-mixed metaphor." Kurt pushes the wrapped present aside and doesn't reach for another. "But you're right. We've sort of talked about living together next year—don't tell Dad, okay? Not yet. But I can't do that if he thinks this isn't going to last."

Finn's quiet for a few seconds and Kurt plays idly with the bow in front of him, waiting.

"Did you and Karofsky exchange gifts before he went up to Chicago with his family?" Finn asks.

"Um." Kurt blinks at the question. "Yeah, why?"

"Well? What'd you get each other?"

Kurt smirks. "I planned a weekend for us in Detroit next month. Red Wings versus Blackhawks."

"Nice," Finn drawls. "I can't believe you're going to sit through a hockey game. And what did he get you?"

"Dave is going to stand through the Alexander McQueen exhibit when it goes to Chicago in March. His uncles are donors, so we're going to the opening reception." Kurt smiles softly. "We planned the same weekend, basically. Just change the city and the event."

"And you don't think this is going to last?" Finn asks. He sounds disbelieving. "Kurt, I gotta say, Dave sounds like he's in this. He's going to a museum. For a queen."

"McQueen," Kurt corrects. "He was a fashion designer. He was brilliant."

"That's even more my point!" Finn pounds a fist on the table. "Fashion. Really? Dude loves you."

"You think?" Kurt asks softly.

"You don't?" Finn counters.

Kurt moves to pick up the next present—books, finally—but Finn puts out his hand to stop him.

"Just talk to him, Kurt. Soon." Finn looks at him thoughtfully. "Remember when I threatened to beat him up if he hurt you? If you hurt yourself, all bets are off."

Kurt laughs, startled, struck again that having Finn for a brother is better than any stupid crush he might have had years ago. He picks up the books from the pile and pulls the roll of wrapping paper toward him, trying not to choke up.

"Okay," Finn says. "Can I tell you about Veronica now? I finally asked her on a date a few weeks ago."

Kurt nods, taking a deep breath, letting Finn's words wash over him. He thinks of Dave, up in Chicago with his family instead of here with him and Kurt misses him. He just hopes Dave's thinking of him, too.

"What's with the smile?" Kurt steps up next to Dave as he walks to the dorm. "Who are you texting?"

"Luke," Dave says, tucking the phone in his pocket and wrapping his arm around Kurt's shoulders. "He's going to be home next week, wanted to know if I'd be there."

"What'd you tell him?" Kurt asks, hoping he sounds casual. He knows Dave and Luke are still friends, that they keep in touch, but it's a lot easier to be accepting of his boyfriend's hot ex-fuck buddy when said fuck buddy is a thousand miles away.

"Said I could probably do it." Dave swipes his card into the reader and opens the door for Kurt. "Pretty sure I could skip my Friday class and drive down Thursday night."

"Oh."

"What? Is that not cool?" Dave starts up the stairs and Kurt hopes he can sense the daggers he's glaring into the back of Dave's woolen coat.

"Not really, no." Kurt brushes past Dave and unlocks his door, pushing the door open so hard it bounces on the hinges.

"Are you seriously telling me I can't be friends with Luke?" Dave follows Kurt into his room and slams the door shut behind them. "We're friends, Kurt, and have been for longer than you and I have been friends."

"Oh, nice, Karofsky, way to throw that in my face." Kurt whips around and tosses his bag down on the floor.

"Kurt, I'm not trying to throw anything in your face. I'm just saying I've known Luke a long time and I'm not going to stop being his friend just because you're throwing a fit!" Dave rubs his hands over his face. "I don't get why all of a sudden you're jealous of him."

"I've been jealous since you showed me his picture on your phone!" Kurt cannot believe he just admitted that.

"You're kidding me," Dave laughs. "That was sophomore year! You were barely talking to me. In fact, you were—and still are talking to Blaine. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you were actually in love with him, and all I did was fuck around with Luke."

"My friendship with Blaine has nothing to do with this," Kurt shoots back.

"You're right, it doesn't." Dave points at Kurt. "And you know why? Because I know there's nothing going on between you two. Just like there's nothing going on with me and Luke."

Kurt crosses his arms across his chest and turns his head, staring at the wall.

"Oh my god, Kurt Hummel." Dave drops into the desk chair, running his hands through his hair. Kurt looks at him out of the corner of his eye, sighing. Ever since that conversation with Finn at the end of winter break, Kurt's been on edge, and it's getting harder to hide. "All I want to do is figure out what the fuck is going on with you lately. You're being a bitch and I have no fucking clue what I did."

"You made me fall in love with you! That's what you did!" Kurt yells as he spins to face Dave. "You changed and you grew up and you got hot and you get me better than anyone has ever gotten me, including Blaine, and all you do lately is talk to Luke, and talk about Luke. Luke, Luke, Luke! And now you're going to go see him next week—Valentine's Day, which I guess isn't something you care about celebrating with me. Your boyfriend."

He's breathing heavily now, chest heaving, hands fisted on his hips. Dave rises from the chair, stepping up to Kurt, barely inches between them. Kurt stares at him, eyes wide, and just when he thinks Dave's going to say something about Kurt's jealousy-fueled exaggerations, because really, Dave has barely mentioned Luke in a month, Kurt lunges at him, grabs him with both hands by the back of Dave's neck and slams their mouths together.

It's painful and not hot at first, but then Dave groans, opens his mouth wide and Kurt pushes his tongue inside Dave's mouth, sweeping over his teeth, claiming him. Dave's hands grab onto Kurt's hips, yanking their bodies closer together and Kurt's hard already, can't ever remember being this ready this quickly before. He shifts his hips, searching, and feels Dave grind his dick against Kurt's and if it was good before, it's suddenly so much better.

"Off, off," Kurt mutters against Dave's lips, pushing at Dave's coat, getting it down his arms, letting Dave take care of getting it off all the way while he works at the buttons on Dave's shirt. "Why must you wear such complicated clothes?" Kurt whines, tugging it over Dave's head before it's completely unbuttoned, grabbing the undershirt along with it.

"You should talk," Dave bites Kurt's earlobe, dragging his slightly open mouth down Kurt's neck. "In fact, you picked out this shirt, remember."

"Oh, God, just shut up and get naked, will you?" Kurt starts on Dave's belt when he gets pushed back. He's about to complain when Dave sinks to his knees, unbuttoning Kurt's pants with one hand and pushing up his shirt with the other. Kurt takes the hint and pulls his shirt off quickly before burying his hands in Dave's hair, guiding his mouth to his stomach, moaning when Dave nips gently at the skin below his navel, kissing a trail down to the waistband of his briefs.

"Fuck, Kurt," Dave whispers. "You're so hot, you don't even know." Dave pulls Kurt's underwear and pants down in one motion, sucking Kurt's cock into his mouth at the same time. Kurt lets out a yell and can't hold back his thrust. Dave just moans and opens his mouth more and Kurt slides all the way in, to the back of Dave's throat.

"David, Dave, please." Kurt bends slightly, cradling Dave's head with one arm and digging his fingers into his shoulder with the other. "Fuck, Dave, you're so good at that, so good. Fuck, take it, please."

Dave hums and Kurt's knees tremble and he cries out again and without warning Dave's pushing him back. Kurt protests, but Dave stands up and kisses him, and Kurt loves the taste of himself on Dave's tongue, finds it so dirty and hot. He gets Dave's pants open, shoving his hand down Dave's boxers, finding Dave's cock hot and heavy in his hand.

"Yes," Dave moans, rotating his hips, and Kurt tightens his grip the way he knows Dave loves. "Kurt, please."

"Yeah," Kurt mutters. "Yeah." He pulls back and starts stripping the rest of his clothes off, urging Dave to do the same.

They come back together, skin on skin, Kurt loving the rough feel of Dave's chest hair against his own smooth skin, Dave's big hands cupping his ass, pulling Kurt up onto his toes, their dicks rutting in to each other, and it's rough and hot and Kurt wants more.

"Let me," Kurt starts, interrupted by Dave's tongue in his mouth. He wraps a leg around Dave's, wonders briefly if could climb up Dave's body and puts that in the back of his mind for another day—Dave holding him up against a wall with Kurt's legs wrapped around his waist, riding him. For now, though, "Condom, Dave, need to fuck you."

Dave tightens his hands on Kurt's hips, kissing him hard before he pushes back gently. "They're in your drawer. Go."

Kurt spins around, stretching to reach the drawer next to his bed. No sooner does his hand wrap around the box of condoms and the lube than Dave's hands are on him again, pulling him back against his chest. Dave runs his hands up the front of Kurt's body, rough hands causing goosebumps to break out over Kurt's skin and he grinds back against Dave when he pinches both of Kurt's nipples and bites the juncture of neck and shoulder at the same time.

"So hot, Kurt, never want to stop touching you, show you what you do to me." Dave's whispering, and Kurt only catches half of what he's saying, just knows it's all good. He reaches up behind him and wraps his arm around Dave's neck, twisting his head for an off-center kiss.

"Fuck me, Karofsky, c'mon," Kurt gasps. Dave tightens his hold and they both step backward and Dave collapses onto Kurt's desk chair, guiding Kurt onto his lap.

"Lube," Dave instructs, holding out two fingers in front of them while his other slides down Kurt's body to wrap around the base of his cock, rubbing his balls in his fingers. Kurt's hand shakes but he manages to pump more than enough lube onto Dave's hand and he arches his back, giving Dave room to run a finger down his ass. He pauses until Kurt squirms, begging, and he slides both fingers into Kurt's ass, firm and gentle all at the same time.

"Yes," Kurt whimpers. He spreads his legs on either side of Dave, wrapping his feet around Dave's calves and tries to move against the fingers inside of him. Kurt's head is back on Dave's shoulder and he turns to mouth kisses along Dave's neck.

Dave slides his fingers out and Kurt tips the box over and discovers there aren't any condoms left.

"Shit," he whispers. "Dave, we're out, how are we out already?"

"Fuck." Dave rests his forehead on the back of Kurt's neck, his breath hot on Kurt's skin. "I'm clean. I promise you I'm clean, the results are in my desk, and I can get them."

Kurt thinks for a minute, his brain at war with the rest of his body, including his heart. He knows he's clean—he was tested after Colin, and he trusts Dave. He wouldn't say there's proof if there wasn't.

"Yes," Kurt says finally. "Yes, okay."

"Kurt—"

"Do it." Kurt bites out. "I want to feel you."

He closes his eyes as he writhes against Dave's cock brushing over the swell of Kurt's ass.

"You gotta stop that or this is going to be over all too soon," Dave warns. He kisses Kurt's temple as he works a hand between them; Kurt can feel him applying more lube to his cock, spreading the remnants around the rim of Kurt's ass. "You ready? Sure it was enough?"

"Yes, yes," Kurt arches his back again, and Dave steadies him with a hand on his hip as he pushes slowly into Kurt.

"It's all you, baby, come on," Dave whispers. He holds himself still and Kurt exhales, letting gravity do the work, slow, feeling the drag of Dave's cock in his ass, thick and hot. "Fuck, Kurt, so tight, you're so tight around me."

"Dave," Kurt whines. "Fuck, fuck."

"Shhh, I've got you." Dave settles his hands low on Kurt's hips, fingers spread wide and he rocks Kurt up and down. Kurt moans, forces his body upright and suddenly Dave's in deeper than before and Kurt's body is shaking with the feel of him, the overwhelming fullness. Dave tightens his grip and Kurt thinks he'll have slight bruises tomorrow and he wonders when he started finding that idea hot.

"Let me," Kurt stammers, shifting his hands behind his own legs, pressing on Dave's thighs. It's awkward but just enough leverage, and Kurt starts to move up and down, Dave helping him on the way up, but letting Kurt's body do all the work on the slide back down.

"So hot, Kurt, you're so hot," Dave whispers, lips moving along the back of Kurt's neck, over to a shoulder. "Can't you tell what you do to me? What you mean to me?"

Kurt whimpers, but he can't talk. He's so full and it's almost too much, his thighs straining from being spread so open. He catches a glance of them in the mirror tacked to the wall, barely half their bodies reflected but it's enough to see the way he's spread over Dave's lap, how Dave's hands are running over his body.

Dave slides a hand up Kurt's chest, settling over his heart and the other wraps loosely around the base of Kurt's dick, brushing over his balls before dipping between Kurt's legs to brush against Kurt's overly sensitive rim. Kurt shudders, and he's afraid it's going to be over too soon, and he starts saying Dave's name over and over.

"Kurt, fuck, Kurt, don't you get it? Look at us in the mirror, look how we fit together." Dave drags his hand back up to Kurt's cock and he smears the precome around before wrapping his fingers around him and moving his hands up and down in time with the thrusts of his hips. "I love you, I love you so much, and you are all I want, Kurt."

Kurt thinks he screams Dave's name, he's not sure, but he's coming, his thighs quivering, his fingers digging into Dave's legs and Dave keeps moving his hand, spreading Kurt's come all over. Kurt's breathing hard, his vision grays out and their reflection blurs before Dave lifts him off his lap and turns him gently, pushing him on his back on the bed.

Kurt blinks up at him, smiling and Dave grins as he pushes Kurt's legs up to his chest and slides back into Kurt's ass with one smooth stroke. Kurt sighs, pushing his hips back against Dave who leans down and kisses him.

Dave's moving, faster and harder and Kurt turns his head. "Love you, love you," Kurt whispers. "Dave."

Dave slams in hard with a groan and Kurt tightens his muscles, can feel it when Dave comes inside of him, hotter than Kurt imagined come would be. He grins when Dave rests his forehead against Kurt's, breathing hard. They lay there wrapped in each other, Kurt running his fingers up and down Dave's back, across his shoulders, tracing lines in the sweat pooling on Dave's skin. He knows he's just as gross, but when Dave shifts to pull out, Kurt doesn't let him move very far, and he can feel the slick wetness of Dave's come as it trickles out of his hole.

"Kurt," Dave starts.

"You can go see him," Kurt interrupts. "I was jealous and you're right, I don't need to be."

"Kurt, listen." Dave rolls to his side and looks down at Kurt. "You don't need to be jealous, it's true. Because I'm crazy about you. But I didn't realize next week was Valentine's Day and if you think I'm going to miss our first one together, you've got a lot to learn about me."

Kurt brushes hair off Dave's forehead, looking into his eyes. "How'd I get so lucky?"

"Pretty sure I'm the lucky one in this bed," Dave laughs. "And I remind myself of that every day."

Kurt turns his head, trying to hide his blush. "Sorry that I've been so…weird lately." He looks back at Dave. "It's just been a stressful semester so far."

"You sure?" Dave doesn't look as though he believes Kurt, but he doesn't push it when Kurt nods and moves into the little spoon position. Soon enough, Dave's breathing softly behind him and Kurt's staring at the wall opposite, wondering if he'll still be this lucky next Valentine's Day.

It's one of those unseasonably warm early March days, the kind that makes Kurt simultaneously fear global warming and be happy that he can get away with a lightweight and less bulky sweater as he sits outside. He's trying to sketch out some of the costume tweaks for Curse of the Starving Class but it's not going well, and he flips the page in his book to start over.

He loses himself in Emma's outfit for the second act, erasing and drawing, and jumps a mile when he feels Dave run a hand across the back of Kurt's neck.

"Hey, when did you get here?" Kurt closes his book and shifts to face Dave on the bench.

"A minute ago. Didn't want to interrupt." Dave nods to the book. "How's it going?"

"Eh," Kurt shrugs. "Inspiration will strike when the muse is right. She has a few days." He notices that Dave's holding a manila folder. "What's that?"

"The housing form you still haven't signed," Dave says. "Did you change your mind?"

Kurt doesn't answer right away, looking past Dave's shoulders at the melting snow piles. Dave groans in frustration.

"Kurt, seriously. You have to talk to me." Dave leans into Kurt's view. "Is this what's been bothering you? You don't want to live together next year?"

"No! I mean yes," he quickly amends when he sees the look of shock on Dave's face. "It's not next year that worries me."

"Then what is it?" Dave brushes a thumb along Kurt's cheekbone before cupping his neck. "Just talk to me, please."

"It's just…" Kurt exhales and slumps against the back of the bench. "What if we live together and it's great and then after graduation I go one way and you go another? What then?"

"Do you plan on breaking up with me after school?" Dave asks. "Do you really think I plan on breaking up with you?"

"No! But what if I get that job in Chicago and you don't?"

"Kurt, there's like, a million schools in the greater Chicago area." Dave laughs. "Surely at least one is going to need a gym teacher."

"And what if you don't get that one job? What then?" Kurt's heart clenches at the thought.

"Then we figure something out. Listen," Dave pauses, puts his arm around Kurt's shoulder so they're sitting side-by-side, not looking at each other. "It's gonna be easier for me to find something than it will be for you. I know that. And I also know that I'm prepared to go wherever you go to get a job. It's not the wherever part that's important. It's the you part."

Kurt blinks his eyes a few times, trying to hold back the stupid wetness he can feel pooling. He tips his head onto Dave's shoulder and sighs when he feels a kiss brushed against his hair.

"I love you," he says softly.

"I know. I love you, too." Dave squeezes his shoulder, and Kurt laughs softly. "Okay, laughter wasn't exactly the reaction I expected here…"

"It's just…do you remember when Finn threatened to beat you up if you hurt me, last summer?" Kurt looks up at Dave's face the best he can from his position.

"Yeah," Dave smirks. "It was…sweet, if a little misguided. I would've won."

"Not the point," Kurt says. "Finn threatened to beat me up if I screwed this up with us."

"No shit," Dave says wonderingly. "Never thought I'd get Finn on my side."

"I think he's on our side. He basically told me you were in love with me." Kurt takes a deep breath before twisting around quickly, throwing his leg over Dave's and kissing him, not caring who sees or what this might look like it's leading to. Dave laughs into his mouth, grabbing Kurt's waist so he doesn't fall, and kisses him back.

"Okay," Kurt gasps, pulling away. "Give me the form, I'll sign it, we can drop it off, and then we have to go back to the dorm."

Dave grins at him and pulls the envelope out from under Kurt where he's sitting on Dave's lap. It's a little wrinkled, but it doesn't matter. "Let's reverse that order—dorm first." Dave says.

"Yeah," Kurt kisses him hard on the mouth before scrambling off him. "I can live with that."

Epilogue—18 months later

"I agree, Kurt, it's a very whimsical piece, but why exactly do you have a painting of flying pigs hanging on your wall?" Rachel stares resolutely at the painting. Kurt suspects she's less interested in it than she is of Finn and Veronica holding hands as they watch Dave and Burt trying to connect the new Wii to the entertainment system.

"It's just…there was a time when I was sure pigs would fly before I'd ever be Karofsky's friend. And now—" Kurt stops, listening to the sound of Dave's laughter at Abi's attempt to climb his back. "Now I can't imagine a day without him."

"And the license plate?" Rachel asks.

Kurt grins. "That was a housewarming present for Dave from Dad. Newly minted Illinois plate."

"Okay…"

"It's a long story," Kurt says. "And if Dad hears us talking about it, it'll be even longer."

"Right." Rachel smiles softly at him. "You're happy."

"I am," Kurt says. "And what about you? Are you happy?"

"I am. I'm performing off-off-Broadway, Kurt! It's only a matter of time before I make it big." Rachel leads them past the couch where Carole and Dave's Uncle Harry are talking about kid-friendly places to see in Chicago while they're visiting. "And I think I realized a long time ago that Finn and I weren't meant to be. I'm okay with that."

"I'm sure that you're even more okay that he and Quinn weren't meant to be either," Kurt says dryly.

"It certainly doesn't hurt," Rachel says with a laugh. Dave walks up to them and wraps his arms around Kurt from behind, dropping a kiss into his hair. "You know, you both have me to thank for getting you together."

"How's that exactly?" Dave asks.

"It's simple. If I hadn't told Kurt that you were dating that soccer player, he never would have noticed how hot you were freshman year and you never would have dated." Rachel takes a sip of her glass of wine and watches them expectantly.

"You thought I was hot all the way back then, did you?" Dave asks with a leer.

"I may have thought you were less repulsive than I did in high school, yes." Kurt responds, kissing Dave's cheek to let him know he's joking.

"See?" Rachel beams at them. "It's all thanks to me!"

"Yes, Rachel Berry, Dave Karofsky is hot and I should thank you, for making me the happiest I've ever been." Kurt says. He gives her a hug, whispering in her ear. "I mean it. Thanks."

"Just stay happy, Kurt. That will be thanks enough." Rachel squeezes him back.

"Dave!" Abigail runs up to them and tugs on Dave's shirt. "You said we could play the penguin game when you and Daddy were done!"

"Okay squirt, come on." Dave kisses Kurt on the cheek before following Abi over to the television, working the Wiimote until they find the penguin balance game.

Kurt watches them playing together, and he suddenly remembers the dream he had years ago, where Dave was a part of the family. And here they all are…family and friends, and everyone's getting along. Burt and Paul are deep in discussion about Paul's car; Carole, Harry and Roger are shouting encouragement at Dave as Abi tries to make him lose his balance. Rachel's even making an effort to talk to Veronica and Finn, and Kurt is so very happy.

Yes, Rachel Berry, Karofsky is hot, Kurt thinks, hot and amazing and mine. He doesn't need to look out the window to know that somewhere, pigs are flying.