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:
3,427 // 16,119 (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 TwoChapter Three
Thankful For Pie
Dave still wasn't sure how he'd gotten roped into what was bound to be a disaster. More than that, he wasn't sure why Kurt's dad
had agreed to it. He'd never been Burt's favorite person and, even if the animosity was gone, there was still a definite dislike there that Dave wasn't sure he'd ever live down.
"You'll see; this'll be nice," his dad offered with a small smile as Dave parked in front of the Hummel-Hudson house, trying not to block anyone in.
"Or I could wind up with a black eye," Dave drawled.
"Hey—it's better than seeing our
family for Thanksgiving, isn't it?" Paul asked, eyebrow raising.
Kurt met them on the porch, smiling and rubbing his forearms, which were bared by rolled-up sleeves, against the cold. "Happy Thanksgiving," he said cheerfully.
"Hey," Dave replied, leaning in for a kiss as he cleared the top step. He knew his dad was watching them, probably smiling like an idiot, but he hadn't seen Kurt in almost a month.
Kurt hugged Dave tightly as the kiss broke, murmuring, "I missed
you," quietly. Then he let Dave go and turned to Paul, offering his hand. "Mr. Karofsky," he said in a warm tone, "it's good to see you again."
Paul quickly handed off the pie box he was holding to Dave, dragging Kurt into a hug instead of taking his hand. Dave sighed, shaking his head. "Let him breathe, Jesus
When Paul released him, Kurt stepped back with a soft laugh and straightened his shirt. "Won't you come in?" he asked. He opened the front door and gestured for Dave and Paul to enter before him, and snagged Dave's hand on his way by when they did.
Dave smirked at the formal line, squeezing Kurt's hand, but the small smile was replaced with a bigger, much less sincere one when Burt came out from the kitchen, zeroing in on him. "Kill me now," he muttered through his teeth, keeping the smile firmly in place. "Do it before he does."
"They frown against members of Congress doing that sort of thing. He'd hire an independent contractor," Kurt murmured back. "Dad, you remember David and Mr. Karofsky," he said, more cheerfully. "They brought pie."
Burt stared Dave down for a minute longer, then turned his attention to the box in his hand. "Good thing, too," he said. "Finn went through almost a whole one by himself last night. Paul, good to see ya."
It didn't go unnoticed (and Dave was sure it was intentional) when Burt shook his dad's hand, but passed him over, nodding toward the kitchen with a, "Why don't you take that in to Carole."
Dave just nodded, stepping away from Kurt to head for the kitchen.
Kurt gazed after Dave, then leveled his dad with a look, before turning to Paul. "Can I take your coat?" he asked. When Paul took it off and handed it over, he said, "Finn and Rachel are setting up in the dining room, and my dad has the game on in the living room. I'm sure you're welcome to join him."
"Sure you are," Burt agreed. "It's this way." He started for the living room, Paul following at a sedate pace. "Buckeyes are ahead at the half."
Kurt joined Dave and Carole in the kitchen, coming up behind Dave and wrapping his arm around Dave's waist. "Sorry about my dad," he murmured. "He's just—"
"Never going to like me," Dave laughed. "I've accepted that." One hand dropped to Kurt's as he turned his head to press a kiss against the other man's forehead.
Carole turned from the stove with a frown. "I'm happy you're here," she told Dave. "How could I not be, when you make Kurt smile like that?"
A stupid smile spread over Dave's face at Carole's words. "Do you need any help?" he offered. "I can't really cook, but..."
"Can you mash?" she asked, holding out a potato masher.
"That, I can definitely do," Dave agreed, reaching out to take the instrument.
Kurt snagged an apron from a hook by the refrigerator and put it on, then donned oven mitts and opened the oven door. He pulled out the roasting pan and set it carefully down on the counter, then picked up a nearby pan filled with dinner rolls and put it in the oven. "Anything else I can do?" he asked.
"Finn and Rachel are probably about ready to pour the cider," she said. "Can you bring it in to them?" She gestured to where two full glass carafes were sitting on the counter.
Dave got to work on the potatoes, straining to hear the game in the other room while trying not to look like he wasn't doing it. He wondered if he could get away with sticking his head in to see the score without Burt noticing.
Finn walked in a moment later, carrying the now-empty carafes. "Hey Mom, hey Karofsky," he greeted. He set the carafes by the sink. "Want to come watch the game?" he asked. "Rachel can take over for you in a minute—she's insisting on getting a chance to help prep this year."
Dave cast a nervous glance at Carole, then looked back to Finn, setting the masher in the bowl. "Sure, if she doesn't mind," he agreed, shrugging slightly.
"You go on," Carole urged, smiling. "Rachel, Kurt, and I can take things from here. We'll let you know when dinner's ready."
"Thanks," Dave laughed, stepping away from the counter to follow Finn out, snagging Kurt for a quick kiss before leaving. He glanced at Burt, who was pointedly keeping his eyes off of Dave, before sitting down with his dad on the love seat, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. But he had
been expecting this, hadn't he?
"Who's ahead?" Finn asked, flopping backwards onto the couch.
"Buckeyes by three," Burt replied.
"Penn's closing the gap fast," Finn commented, then explained, obviously for Dave's benefit, "They were a lot further behind at halftime, but they benched Johnson and put in Parsons. Have you seen that guy run? It's ridiculous."*
After dinner, once the leftovers had been put away and the dishwasher had been loaded, everyone assembled in the living room.
"That was a wonderful meal, Carole," Paul said. He had settled into Burt's usual seat in the squashy armchair to the left of the sofa, across from the love seat where Kurt and Dave now sat. "Thank you for inviting us."
"Thank you for coming," she countered graciously from her seat on the couch next to Burt. "And I can't take all the credit for the meal. My sous chefs Kurt, Rachel, and David helped."
"I had no idea cooking was so fun," Rachel commented. She was perched on the arm of the sofa, next to Finn. "I'll have to do it more often at home."
Finn's eyes widened a fraction. "But you love take-out," he murmured. "And going out to eat is one of the best ways to get noticed by a potential employer in the musical theater industry, right?"
"I suppose that's true," Rachel conceded. "Maybe I'll wait until after we've moved."
Dave silently wondered when exactly spooning food into serving dishes started counting as cooking, but he didn't voice the question. He reached over as subtly as he could to take Kurt's hand, sort of amazed how Burt, who had up until then been paying them no attention, had caught the movement.
Kurt, who was equally aware of Burt's eyes on them, twined their fingers together more firmly and leaned toward Dave, relaxing against his side. "So who's going first?" he asked.
Burt, finally averting his eyes from his son's hand, said, "I didn't think we were going to do it this year, since we have guests."
Carole elbowed him gently in the ribs. "We're doing it," she said. "I'm sure Paul and David will join in if they feel comfortable."
"What's that?" Paul asked curiously.
"Every year after dinner we go around and say what we're thankful for. It's sort of a tradition," Carole replied with a smile.
"That sounds great," Paul agreed instantly, beaming. "I'm sure Dave wouldn't mind going first, would you?"
Dave shot his dad a look, but said, "No, I guess not. Unless someone else wants to?"
Nobody volunteered, although Rachel looked decidedly put out by the development—she was no doubt plotting how to go last now, instead. Kurt rubbed the back of Dave's hand with his thumb, waiting for him to take his turn.
Dave thought for a moment. He normally would have just spouted some Hallmark card bullshit so he could be done with it but, with all eyes on him -Burt's especially- he wound up blurting the truth before he could really think about it. "I'm thankful for the fact that I decided to go to the same Halloween party as Kurt last month."
Kurt made a soft sound in his throat, smiling at Dave. "I'm thankful that I have such an accepting family," he said to the room at large. "It means a lot to me knowing you respect my choice in dating David." His smile, then, was directed at Carole, Finn, and Rachel—and dimmed just slightly when it passed over Burt.
Carole grinned. "Well, I'm
thankful for every person in this room, and that we could all share this day together."
"I'm thankful for a healthy family, and a productive year at work," Burt said, after a moment. "And for that pie you brought, Paul. That was delicious."
"Oh, David chose that," Paul replied. "I'm glad you liked it. I'd planned to order a pecan pie, but he insisted on apple. What was it you called it when we ordered it, David? 'Best pie ever?'"
"Yeah," Dave laughed.
"I'm thankful that pie exists," Finn blurted, then grinned sheepishly. "Uh, that wasn't my real one, sorry. I'm thankful fooor... Kurt finally getting a guy who most likely isn't gonna screw him over. And for Rachel," he added quickly when she shot him a dangerous look.
"I'm thankful for my wonderful, considerate, talented husband," Rachel said sweetly, giving Finn a look
out of the corner of her eye, "who just recently nabbed the male lead in LIU's spring production of Hello Dolly
, which I'm sure you'll all come to see in April. Also, for an affordable housing market in Chicago, so we can afford the home we deserve when we move."
Paul glanced over at Kurt and Dave, then simply said, "I'm thankful for marriage equality, which is now present in almost half of the country. I'd say I was thankful that it's going to be legal soon in Ohio, but that would be a bit of an ego stroke, wouldn't it?" he laughed.
"Thank you for your work on that front, Mr. Karofsky," Rachel was quick to add. "My dads look forward to the day their marriage is legally recognized at home."
"By the way," Paul replied, "You tell LeRoy I said hi when you see him, okay?"
"I will," Rachel promised. "They're away on a cruise over the holiday, but when they get back this weekend I'll be sure to pass along your greetings."
"Kurt, honey," Carole spoke up. "Why don't you and your dad go empty the dishwasher. I think I heard it stop."
"Oh, I can—"
"No, it's fine Rachel. I'm sure they can handle it."
Kurt squeezed Dave's hand and stood, glancing at him apologetically before following Burt out of the living room. Once in the kitchen, they worked silently for awhile before Burt asked, "So how's school?"
"I told you yesterday," Kurt replied tersely.
"Indulge me. I like knowing I've got an intelligent son."
Kurt put the pot he'd just removed from the dishwasher down on the counter. "Why don't you tell me what this is really about, Dad?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, kiddo," Burt said, pulling the silverware caddy out of the dishwasher.
"You've been alternating between giving David dirty looks and flat-out ignoring him all night," Kurt said, retrieving the pot lid, "and I want to know why."
"Oh, I have not," Burt sighed. "You're exaggerating."
"You didn't shake his hand when he and his dad got here," Kurt recounted, "when we sat down for dinner, you always asked Finn or me for one of the dishes, even though he was sitting right between us, and he asked you to pass the potatoes three times
before Carole took pity on him and passed them over—"
"Well maybe I didn't hear him," Burt snapped, stopping what he was doing to finally look at Kurt.
"You heard him," Kurt hissed, using a stack of plates he'd just retrieved from the dishwasher as an excuse to turn his back on his father. "You glanced at him every time he asked. Why don't you just admit it? You don't like him."
"That's not true," Burt insisted, silverware long forgotten.
"Is it about high school?" Kurt asked. "I thought you were bigger than that, especially after what happened to him." He shut the cabinet door carefully.
"Of course not! I'd like to think you know me better than that, Kurt."
Having run out of dishes to occupy him, Kurt closed the dishwasher and turned to face his father. "Then what is it? What
?" he asked, voice raising. "Because he's been on his best behavior all night, and you've been doing nothing
but make him uncomfortable."
"Maybe it's just hard seeing my little boy all grown up! Liking someone enough to bring him home for Thanksgiving and—"
"I don't like
David, I love him!" Kurt snapped.
In the living room, everyone else gasped, not even pretending they hadn't been eavesdropping.
"You owe me five bucks," Finn murmured.
"That's not fair! He's your brother; you know him better than I do. Not by much
"Five bucks, Rach."
Paul was visibly glowing
at Kurt’s declaration, and seemed to be trying not to vibrate with happiness. Dave, on the other hand...
"David, honey? Are you alright?" Carole asked, concerned.
"Sorry, wh— yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," Dave assured her quickly, once his brain had caught up with the question. "Um, so I guess this's as good a time as any to tell you I love you too, or...?" he called to the kitchen.
"Come in here, you," Kurt called back, his cheeks coloring. He turned his attention back to Burt. "You had to know this would happen eventually, Dad. I'm almost twenty-two; I've been living on my own for nearly three years. And David..." When Dave walked into the kitchen, Kurt took his hand again and squeezed it tight. "We fit
"You know what else can fit? A pair of jeans. And there's always a million other pairs out there just like—"
Dave huffed a sigh, dropping Kurt's hand. "No disrespect meant, Burt, but I'm getting really tired of this. I've been trying for years
to get you to like me even just a little bit
, and I just can't do it anymore. I'm tired of the situation and I'm tired from trying so damn hard every time I come over here. Kurt's happy
. That should be enough for you." Dave paused, cheeks coloring a bit. "Sorry," he tacked on.
Kurt stared at Dave, mouth just short of slack-jawed, for a moment. "It's enough for me
," he declared, kissing Dave on the cheek. He turned his attention back to Burt. "Dad. Say something."
The older man was quiet for a long moment, eyes still on Dave. Finally, his shoulders relaxed, and he held out his hand for him to take. Dave huffed a laugh, reaching out to shake Burt's hand.
Kurt leaned against Dave's side when Dave and Burt had taken their hands back. Thank you,
he mouthed at Burt when he thought Dave wasn't looking.
"Well, I think I'm gonna have some more of that pie and park my ass in my chair for the rest of the night," Burt announced, nodding slightly at Dave before turning to pull one of the pie plates out of the fridge, snagging a fork out of the drawer on his way out.
Kurt craned his neck to watch his dad enter the living room, and then turned his attention back to his boyfriend. "So," he murmured. "Guess you don't have a problem with what I yelled a few minutes ago."
"Oh, I have a huge
problem with it," Dave teased before taking hold of Kurt's waist, pulling him in for a kiss.
Kurt's arms came around Dave's shoulders, pressing them closer together for a moment. Then he seemed to realize they were standing in his family's kitchen, and he backed off again, ending the kiss softly. "Too bad you've got a problem," he said with a grin. "I don't do take-backs."
Dave chuckled softly, glancing out into the other room before stepping back, out of sight of the doorway, as he pulled Kurt with him for another, longer kiss. "Wanna go home with me tonight?" he asked quietly.
"Do I even need to answer that?" Kurt asked in response. He pressed a kiss to the corner of Dave's mouth. "I'll need to pack a toothbrush and something to wear tomorrow."
"Well, if you wanna take your car we wouldn't have to wait for my dad to decide he's ready to go," Dave replied.
Kurt grinned at Dave's eagerness. "Want to stay down here while I get my things, or come upstairs?" he asked.
"I should probably wait down here..." Dave admitted, eyes moving over Kurt's body slowly. "But then, I never really got the hang of doing what I should
"You should know that my dad's open door policy remains in effect until someone puts a ring on it," Kurt said, gesturing with his left hand as he made his way toward the kitchen doorway. "... are you coming?"
Dave laughed, immediately trailing after Kurt as he left the kitchen. "Dad, we're gonna head out in a minute. I'm gonna leave my car with you, okay?" he called as they headed upstairs.
Kurt grabbed Dave's hand on the top landing, pulling him down the hallway to what was still his bedroom, when he was visiting. "Looks a little different without all my personal belongings in it," he remarked as Dave pressed up close behind him.
"Well, I didn't really come up here to see your room," Dave admitted, smirking. One arm moved to slide around Kurt's waist as he pulled him back against him, lips instantly moving over the curve of Kurt's neck.
—you didn't?" Kurt asked with mock innocence, tilting his head to give Dave better access.
"Nope," Dave mumbled, biting down gently as his hand wandered lower, cupping Kurt firmly through his pants. "Mm, bet I could get you off before anyone decides to check on us," he mused. A second later he was proven wrong when someone -probably Burt or Finn- started coming upstairs—as loudly and deliberately as possible.
Kurt sighed and pulled away, straightening his shirt. "Raincheck," he murmured. Then he walked to his closet and pulled out an overnight bag, quickly retrieving a few clothes, his deodorant, toothbrush, and toothpaste, and his facial moisturizer.
"Oh, hey guys," Finn said a moment later. "Mom wants to know if you want to take any leftovers with you. She's got a plate of cookies she didn't bother to pull out for dessert."
"Um," Dave bit back an exasperated laugh. "Maybe just send 'em back with my dad, okay?"
"Sure," Finn replied. Then he shifted a little awkwardly. "Um... you have everything you need, right? All the... stuff?"
"Finn, please tell me you're not asking me if we have condoms," Kurt demanded, looking a little horrified.
Dave barked a loud laugh, cheeks burning. "Dude, I think we both know what we're doing at this point—unless you want details?"
"No, no, I'm good. Really. I'm... good," Finn replied, slowly backing out of the room. "You guys have a good night."
Kurt watched his brother flee in amusement, then packed his overnight bag quickly. "You do
have condoms, right?" he asked Dave as he zipped the bag shut.
"Ye—" Dave thought for a moment. "Yeah, I do."
"... and they didn't expire two years ago?" Kurt prompted. He reached into his nightstand then, and pulled out a familiar canister.
"Okay, maybe we wanna stop at the store on the way home," Dave replied with a grin, eyeing the thing in Kurt's hand. "You really don't have to do that, you know," he teased.
Kurt frowned. "But it's so—"
"So what?" Dave snickered. "No offense, but it's kinda weird—the taste, I mean."
"So you don't mind if..." Kurt trailed off, then took a deep breath. "Okay. If you're sure." He carefully, deliberately set the canister back in his nightstand.
"Trust me, I definitely don't mind," Dave assured, glancing at the door. "Let's get going before your dad decides to come up," he said with a smirk.
"Oh god, let's," Kurt blurted, pausing just long enough to grab a sweater and put it on before picking up his bag. He snagged his wallet, phone, and car keys from the dresser, pocketed all three, and took Dave's hand again.