Serendipity—Hold the ClichéAuthor:
Tessisamess & SparklpocalypsePairing:
Slice-of-life, romance, future!fic, college!fic, angstSpoilers:
Canon up to 3x14Warnings:
Don't highlight unless you want spoilers! Character death (not Kurt or Dave), homophobia, and a serious lack of spontaneous singing.Word Count:
4,219 // 12,692 (of ~80,000)Summary:
Sometimes you find love in someone new; sometimes you find it hiding in plain sight. Kurt and Dave have been friends since their senior year of high school, but when they unexpectedly run into each other at a Halloween party everything changes.Chapter OneChapter Two
Are You Hungry Or Is That the Gossip Stampede?
Both men were pulled into awareness the next morning by the blaring of Kurt's alarm clock. With an incoherent groan, Kurt reached out and swatted at it until it turned off, then turned, a little gingerly, to face Dave. He was sore in places he hadn't been sore in months
, and he loved it—but he couldn't stop his cheeks from reddening a little as his mind drifted back to the events of the previous night. He hid it by mashing his face against Dave's arm. "Mmm... hey," he murmured, his voice muffled by Dave's bicep.
"Hey." Dave's voice was raspy with sleep, but he sounded wide awake in spite of the fact. One arm slid around Kurt's waist slowly, as if he were afraid he'd disappear if he didn't hold on.
"Sleep well?" Kurt asked once he was sure his coloring had returned to normal. He trailed his fingers up the arm Dave had wrapped around him and tried not to be too distracted by how appealing Dave was right then, with scruffy cheeks and squinty eyes, dust motes dancing around him in the morning light filtering through the blinds of Kurt's bedroom window.
"Mmhm," Dave hummed in reply, turning his face to yawn into the pillow. "You?"
"Very," Kurt said. As Dave's neck arched when he yawned, the urge to curl up against Dave and nuzzle under his chin was sudden and overwhelming. Kurt tucked in closer to Dave, fingers smoothing down his chest hair. "I was worn out," he added, pressing a smile into Dave's skin.
The smile that curved Dave's mouth was nervous around the edges. "Oh yeah?" He asked, tone deceptively light and teasing, but transparent nonetheless.
wore me out," Kurt replied more bluntly with a nod, tracing the curve of Dave's shoulder with the tip of one finger. "I'm going to kiss you," he said then. "Just thought I'd give you advanced warning, given that there's morning breath involved." He placed a sweet kiss on the corner of Dave's mouth, intentionally light to smooth out the tension there. Then he moved to the other corner, his lips grazing over Dave's as he did so.
Dave seemed to melt against him, smile softening as he turned his head slightly to return the small kisses. "Well, I do what I can," he joked quietly.
"Seriously," Kurt murmured, his finger moving up to trace Dave's ear. "I don't want to spout clichés, but last night was... definitely some of the best sex I've ever had." He punctuated that statement with a firmer kiss, wondering at the man in his bed and how far they'd both
come to get there. It was no wonder the sex had been so good—passion had never really lacked in their interactions in the past, positive or negative. And Dave had been so attentive and careful, just like Kurt should've expected from the man who'd once romanced him for an entire week, when they weren’t even involved.
"Oh, I bet you say that to all the guys," Dave drawled, even as his cheeks colored from the compliment. He ran the tip of his nose up the bridge of Kurt's slowly before planting a soft kiss against his forehead. "Last night was amazing," he said softly, joking tone cast aside.
"It was," Kurt agreed with a smile. His hand found the back of Dave's head then, his fingers combing through the soft hair there. He sighed with quiet contentment, happy to spend the rest of the morning curled up in bed with Dave.
Unfortunately, his stomach interrupted the moment with a growl, loud in the otherwise quiet room. Kurt pressed his forehead against Dave's shoulder and snorted a soft laugh. "Um... time for breakfast, I guess," he said. He kissed Dave again, then pulled away and sat up to stretch.
"Mm, yeah. In a minute," Dave half-agreed, arm staying firmly around Kurt to pull him back in.
Kurt grinned, rolling back on his side to face Dave. He hadn't really pegged Dave as a cuddler, but he wasn't about to complain. "When does your train leave?" he asked, kissing Dave's shoulder. "I owe you a date."
"I'm supposed leave tonight," Dave admitted. "But I think they'll cut me a break since my Great Aunt Winnie just died very suddenly and I have to go to the funeral." He grinned lopsidedly.
Kurt laughed softly. "Your Great Aunt Winnie wouldn't happen to have lived in Brooklyn, would she?"
"You know, it's the weirdest thing. She actually did."
"Well," Kurt said somberly, "my condolences. If there's anything I can do in your time of loss..."
"I can think of a couple things," Dave murmured suggestively, mouth thinning slightly as he audibly held back a small laugh.
Kurt put his hands on Dave's shoulders and gazed into his eyes. "You don't need to put on a brave face," he said seriously. "If you need to cry for your dear aunt, you go ahead and cry. I'm here for you." He managed the serious, concerned expression for nearly a full five seconds after he'd finished speaking—but then his lips twitched and it was all over for him. A laugh bubbled forth and his composure was gone
Dave snickered, patting Kurt on the back. "Shh, I know. It's so sad," he joked.
"I'm just—so sorry for your loss," Kurt said between giggles. His stomach chose that moment to make its presence known again, this time growling more loudly. This set Kurt off into a new fit of laughter. It should have been awkward—lying in bed after a night of sex, with a man with whom he had so much history—but he couldn't remember ever having a more enjoyable morning after. Kurt flopped onto his back and stared at the ceiling, trying to regain his composure. He wrapped his hand around Dave's wrist, reluctant to break the tether between them completely.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dave watching him, the other man's gaze travelling slowly for a moment. "We should go eat," he murmured, not really sounding like he wanted to go anywhere.
"We should probably get dressed first," Kurt offered. "I think New York has some sort of public indecency laws on the books." He rubbed Dave's arm lightly with the tips of his fingers, then rolled out of bed and padded unselfconsciously across the room to his closet.
Rather than get up and gather his clothes from the night before, Dave stayed in bed, stretching out slowly as he watched Kurt, eyes unashamedly roaming.
Once Kurt had selected clothes for the day, he crossed to the dresser. Totally aware of Dave's gaze on him, he bent perhaps slightly more slowly than necessary to retrieve and put on his briefs. His stance, when he'd pulled them up over his ass, may have emulated his Cabaret
posture a bit more than usual. He cast a glance over his shoulder at Dave and stepped into a pair of jeans, working them up his thighs in a sort of coy, reverse striptease that made him blush from face to mid-chest. Feeling suddenly shy, he grabbed his shirt and said, "I'm going to brush my teeth. Your pants are..." He looked around the room, then spotted them on the floor by the foot of the bed. "There." He pointed toward the garment.
Dave finally slid out of bed as Kurt left the room, cock half hard from the show Kurt had put on. He appeared at the bathroom door a minute later, still buttoning his fly as he leaned against the frame. "Now, knowing you," he drawled, smirking, "there're like five unopened toothbrushes in here."
Kurt thought better of opening his mouth to tell Dave where they were. Instead he huffed a laugh through his nose, nodded, and opened one of the cupboard doors below the sink, where a package of toothbrushes was propped up against one wall of the cabinet. He made a gesture that attempted to convey "Help yourself," and continued brushing his teeth.
Dave waited until Kurt was done rinsing to step into the small bathroom, one arm wrapping around him so he could kiss the other man on the shoulder before letting him leave the room. He shut the door behind Kurt, probably remembering that he didn't live alone.
As Kurt stepped out into the living room, he was accosted by Anna, who was clutching what was likely her second cup of coffee of the morning, given how she seemed to be vibrating, a little. "So he's hot," she commented. "Great
costume, too. JustJared has some nice shots of you two from last night."
Kurt glanced back at the bathroom door. "Yeah, he's... he's something." He was a little proud of himself for not sighing the last word.
"I could tell," Anna replied, smirking. "This morning, at around three, when you started with what I'm guessing was round two."
"I really need to invest in something that'll soundproof that wall," Kurt muttered, his face reddening.
When Dave stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he flashed a quick smile at Anna, hands moving to cover his bare chest as he joked, "Oh, no! I feel so exposed."
"She doesn't mind," Kurt replied, smiling.
"I really don't," Anna added. "You must be David, if Kurt's moans last night are any indication."
"Nah, I just let him call me that 'cause correcting him was too embarrassing," Dave replied with a wide grin.
"I just like the name David better than the one you told me last night," Kurt quipped lightly, still blushing a little. He spotted his phone on the coffee table, grabbed it, and began thumbing through it, his eyes quickly widening. "Well, shit," he said with feeling. "Looks like I got some 'splaining to do."
"Yeah, that thing has been going off since I got in last night," Anna said. "You might want to plug it in before the battery dies."
"Something happen?" Dave asked, confused, as he crossed the room to stand by Kurt, glancing at the other man's phone.
"All of Lima apparently has an opinion about us being seen together," Kurt said wryly. "Give me five minutes to write a mass email and I'll be ready to go." He paused. "Once I have shoes, anyway."
Dave frowned slightly, wandering over to the couch to grab his coat, digging through the inside pockets until he found his phone. His brows quirked when he looked at the screen. Dialing, Dave sat down as he quietly held the phone up to his ear. He laughed softly as he hung up, looking over at Kurt. "Well... my dad says hi."
"That's nice of him," Kurt commented, his attention mostly focused on the screen of his phone as he rapidly typed up the email. "Anna, do you still have that box of Tom's clothes? David might need a fresh shirt."
"Long as he doesn't mind wearing a shirt that has asshole ex-boyfriend germs all over it," Anna replied. "I mean, they're clean, but some things don't wash out."
"That's fine," Dave assured, a little distractedly, staying where he was as he started texting someone, presumably his father.
Anna looked from one man to the other, both staring at their phones. "I'll just... go get that, then," she said.
"Thanks, Anna," Kurt said belatedly, looking up only to see that she'd already left the room. He wrote a few more sentences in the email, then, after he read it over once, he sent it out. "Okay," he said, pocketing his phone, "shoes."
"This is ridiculous," Dave laughed. "I have texts from people I haven't talked to since high school
. I don't even wanna know what it'd be like if I had a fucking Facebook."
"Oh god," Kurt blurted, blanching. "Facebook." He'd just... ignore the site for the day, he decided. By tomorrow, there'd definitely be less excitement. Definitely. He hoped. "Maybe I can delete mine without anyone noticing," he wondered aloud.
A flash of... something passed over Dave's face. He was quiet for a moment. "I thought you didn't mind being seen with me," he said, tone careful.
Kurt sat next to him on the couch and replied, "I don't mind at all, you know that. The rest of the world just seems to be very opinionated about it." He paused to take a deep breath, then exhaled again. "But you know what? Screw them. It's none of their business who I associate with, or date, or take home with me, as much as they want to make it their business."
"Okay, okay. Put your claws back in, kitty." Dave laughed.
Kurt made a face and stood up. "Come on. Let's finish getting dressed, and then I'll take you out to lunch somewhere extremely public."
"You don't have to prove anything to me," Dave assured, getting up as well. "I'm just being stupid," he said, reaching out to pull Kurt into a loose hug. "Old habits and all that."
"We have to get your things from your hotel room anyway," Kurt reasoned. "Might as well get something to eat while we're out."*
"They don't even try
to be inconspicuous, do they?" Dave snorted, glancing over at Kurt as he sat down at their table. They'd stopped by the hotel first before going out to eat so Dave could shower and change into clean clothes, leaving Kurt defenseless against the small group of teammates that had been hanging out there when they'd arrived.
"If we wanted to trigger a paparazzi deathmatch, we could always hold hands," Kurt said with a grin.
"That... could be entertaining," Dave mused, smirking.
"Or dangerous," Kurt replied. "Johnny knows a guy who sprained his knee trying to fight for a good angle for an upskirt shot once." He leaned in closer to Dave and murmured, "Let's just act like we've got a secret. It'll really excite them."
Dave bit back a laugh, leaning in as well. "How about a real secret," he teased. "Okay, so. One time, in like second grade, I snuck a squirrel into the classroom because it was snowing and it wreaked havoc for like twenty minutes before the teacher could get it out. You're the only person who knows it was me now."
Kurt stared for a moment, and then burst out laughing so hard that he teared up. "That was you
?" he wheezed, wiping his eyes. "You were a legend at Heritage! People talked about that for weeks afterwards."
Dave's cheeks darkened slightly. "Yeah, well... he looked cold," he replied, a weak defense.
Kurt's eyes softened. "Aww," he murmured. "Did you have a name for it?"
Lips thinning slightly, Dave replied matter-of-factly, "Spunk—and before you say a word
, I didn't know what that meant at the time."
Kurt grinned. "That's adorable
," he said, his tone genuine. "I can just picture you smuggling it into the classroom inside your jacket. How did you catch it?"
"I thought it liked me," Dave said. "Turned out I had some old graham crackers in my coat."
That statement sent Kurt into another fit of laughter. "I'm sure it liked you," he said after a minute. "You were probably a lot warmer than the outside, and I'm sure you were nice to it—until it escaped."
"Don't worry," Dave laughed. "I've long since gotten over the heartbreak of a squirrel not wanting to be friends with me." He shifted his chair a little closer. "Okay, your turn."
"I got in a car accident when I was five," Kurt began. "And I was driving."
"Bullshit," Dave snorted. "Give me something real."
"I'm not kidding," Kurt said. "I was at the garage with my dad, and he had this old VW Beetle in for some minor work. Well, he left the door open while he went to look for a part, and I saw that there was a flower in the bud vase. I decided I wanted to smell it, so I climbed in, and must’ve somehow knocked it into gear, because the next thing I knew, the car was rolling out of the garage, down across the parking lot. I took out a mailbox on the other side of the road."
"That's horrible," Dave replied with a laugh. "Now I'm just seeing tiny you, clutching at your little bow tie and crying."
"Are you kidding? I ran," Kurt said. "I knew I wasn't supposed to get into the cars my dad was working on, and figured if he couldn't catch me, I wouldn't get in trouble."
"Yeah, because if you run then clearly it was that other
kid who hangs around the shop all day, right? It must've sucked, getting a brother way after the point when it would've been useful."
"At least I can make him haul heavy things for me. It's not quite the same as having a childhood scapegoat, but it works out pretty well."
"Never stopped me," Dave confided. "Apparently I went through a phase when I was really little where I blamed everything on my brother. Y'know, that brother I don't have."
"You can borrow mine sometime," Kurt offered, patting him on the arm. "When Rachel's not using him, I mean."
"How are they?" Dave asked, but before Kurt could reply, a waiter showed up at their table, looking a little frazzled.
"I'm so sorry about the wait, you guys. We've only got two of us out here today; what can I get for you?"
"I'd love a house salad and a turkey panini," Kurt replied instantly. "With Perrier, if you have it."
"Um, burger and a Coke—or Pepsi. Whichever," Dave added.
"Got it," the waiter replied with a nod. "I'll get that right out to you."
"Thank you," Kurt said as the waiter left the table. He turned back to Dave. "Finn and Rachel are doing well. Rachel graduated a year early from NYADA, and she's ushering at the Gershwin. I know it's not the instant shot to fame that she was expecting, but this city is full
of Rachels. It's tricky, making herself shine above the rest of them in auditions."
"She should try bathing in body glitter," Dave replied, somehow managing to keep a straight face.
"She did, at one point," Kurt replied. "She had an allergic reaction during the audition. It was terrible."
Dave shook his head, snorting quietly. "Well then I am just all out of ideas."
"She's not entirely opportunity-free," Kurt explained, smiling. "In fact, there's a theater company in Chicago that's been attempting to persuade her to move out there, but she told them she wouldn't make a decision until Finn had graduated from LIU this spring."
"Think she's gonna do it?" Dave asked. "I mean, she's always been kind of a... Nazi with her life plans, right?"
"A dozen or so failed auditions were an eye-opener for her," Kurt replied. "And the position in Chicago is a good one—plus, the theater company has connections to a few in New York, too, so I don't see her being out of the city for too long."
The waiter arrived with their drinks, then, informing them, "It'll be a couple more minutes on the food."
"And what about you...?" Dave asked, that same subtly careful tone taking over that always did when he was asking a question where the answer really mattered to him.
"I told you I'm writing a play," Kurt replied. "My advisor really likes where the script is going. His partner is a producer off-Broadway, and he's hinted that if the script turns out well, he might share it. So, no pressure there," he said. He opened his bottle of sparkling water and poured it into the glass the waiter had provided, then lifted the glass and took a sip.
"I thought that was just an assignment," Dave teased. "You mean you really are
"Well, not yet," Kurt said, smiling. "I haven't actually finished it yet. That's when I get to start bragging that I wrote
a play, and people have read
"Can't wait," Dave drawled. "What's it about, anyway?"
"Well, there's this man, named Michael," Kurt began, "and he lives a pretty ordinary life. Home in the suburbs, 9-5 job, a dog that might be written out of the script by the end because dogs are sometimes hard to handle on stage. And he has kidney disease, and needs a transplant. The doctors find him a donor match—a very close match, which is weird because he doesn't have siblings. Except, it turns out, he does."
," Dave sounded out the effect dramatically, wiggling his fingers. "Know how it's gonna end yet?"
"I have some ideas," Kurt replied. "It really depends on where the characters want to go with it."
"Well, at least you're into it; that's what matters," Dave replied, then smirked. "Even if it makes you a total douche."
Kurt snorted in amusement. "Do we really want to compare levels of douchiness in our chosen career paths, Mr. Future Agent To The Stupidly Rich?"
"Hey, you know what they say—takes one to know one," Dave laughed.
"Well, at least I can take comfort in knowing I'm not the only McKinley graduate who went douche while living in New York," Kurt said, grinning.
The waiter came by again, setting their plates in front of them with a quick, "There you go, guys," before rushing off to a table that the hostess had just sat.
"How's your dad?" Kurt asked, ignoring his food for the moment.
"He's, um..." Dave laughed, shaking his head slightly. "A little confused? I think he thinks I've been... keeping you a secret or something."
"Secret, long-distance lovers? That's a little sensational, even for me,
" Kurt said, grinning. "But I admire his apparent flair for drama."
"He asked if we were getting married. Well, asked my voicemail anyway," Dave replied, rolling his eyes.
"I think that might be a little
premature," Kurt laughed. "After all, I've only seen you naked once, and this is only our first date."
"Well, like I said, apparently I've just been keeping you in my closet all this time."
"He'll be so disappointed to find out that I've been in New York all along," Kurt said.
Dave opened his mouth to say something, then stopped, pulling out his phone when it buzzed. "More people I never talk to trying to get into my business, I'm sure," he muttered, then paused when he looked at the screen. Lips thinning, he read the message out loud. "My entire church is talking about the little stunt you pulled. I hope you're happy."
"'Little stunt'?" Kurt repeated. "It's not as though we were groping each other, or had our tongues down each other's throats." He paused for a moment, then continued, "...at that point in the evening."
Dave cracked a small grin at that, glancing down to type out a quick reply before stowing his phone back in the pocket of his jeans.
Kurt, in an unsubtle effort to change the subject, asked, "Are you going home for Thanksgiving?"
"Not sure yet. I know my dad wants me to. Are you?"
"Yeah," Kurt replied. "Dad and Carole insisted. Also, I received an invitation to dinner with the rest of the former glee club members at Breadstix, the following night—although given that the invitation arrived this morning, I'm vaguely suspicious that it could be a hastily-arranged intervention." He laughed. "I wouldn't put something like that past a few of them."
"I should go with you," Dave said, a broad grin forming. "'Oh, hey guys, I brought a date. Hope that's okay!'"
"You should," Kurt agreed. "Even if it's not an intervention. Especially if it's not."
"You have it backwards," Dave laughed. "I'd love to see the look on their faces if you brought me and it was
"Either way, you should go with me," Kurt insisted, smiling. "It'd be fun, once we got past the initial fifteen minutes or so of awkwardness."
"You're crazy. That's the best part," Dave joked, then looked at his food, going quiet for a moment. "Hey, can I ask you something?"
Kurt nodded, the corners of his lips quirking up in a soft smile.
He stayed quiet at first, eyes flicking over Kurt's face, then asked, "Why now?"
"There's always been something standing in the way before now," Kurt replied, carefully. "First high school, then college in different states, and for the last few years either you were dating someone or I was, so I didn't really let myself contemplate it."
"So're you saying that I—we—fuck it," Dave laughed. "I don't even know what I'm
trying to say."
"Now that you have the possibility of a future in New York," Kurt said, "and we're both single, I'm saying that I want you to be my boyfriend." He grinned. "But not secretly, or in any way star-crossed. You'll have to break that to your dad."
"He'll be so disappointed," Dave replied, straight faced for all of a second before he was snickering. "Crying into his copy of Moulin Rouge
"Does that make you Satine or Christian?" Kurt asked.
"Eeeh, can I be John Leguizamo instead?"
"In that case, I want to be the Argentinian," Kurt replied. "That man can dance
... and also I sort of envy his ability to grow facial hair in a more than wispy, pathetic manner."