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:
2,652 // 24,087 (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 ThreeChapter FourChapter Five
"Well, I think that went pretty smoothly, all things considered," Kurt murmured as he pulled his car up Dave's driveway. He'd built up a dramatic scene in his head, wherein all his glee friends would make an attempt to tear them down, one by one—but he'd found that, aside from Puck, who'd apparently been voted spokesperson by the group, there hadn't really been any attempts to "reason" with them. He considered himself lucky to have Finn and Rachel on his side; they'd obviously made more progress than Rachel had thought.
"I'm not crying in a ball in your back seat, so that's a plus," Dave agreed jokingly, grinning at the other man.
"I'm honestly surprised they didn't put up more of a fuss," Kurt admitted. He turned off the car and unfastened his seatbelt. "But I'm glad they didn't."
"God, me too," Dave sighed, unhooking himself as well before reaching over to open his door. "Gonna walk me to my front door like a proper gentleman?" he asked, affecting an overly-sweet tone.
"Play your cards right, and you might even get a goodnight kiss," Kurt replied. He got out of the car and rushed around to Dave's side to open the door for him with a flourish, fighting back a giggle as he offered Dave his hand to help him out.
With a quiet snort and an affectionate smile, Dave took Kurt's hand, letting himself be helped out of the car. "So chivalrous!" he praised dramatically.
"You ain't seen nothing yet," Kurt replied. Once he'd guided Dave away from the car so he could shut the door, he crooked his elbow to give Dave his arm.
"Oh my!" Dave cooed, stifling a laugh as he took Kurt's arm.
Kurt couldn't hold back a soft snicker at that, and he patted Dave's hand where it was curled around the crook of his elbow, attempting to school his face again. He channeled every romantic hero from every classic movie he'd ever seen as he turned to Dave and asked, smiling just a little, "Shall we?"
Dave nodded, looking like he'd start laughing if he actually said
anything, then let Kurt lead him to the front steps.
"Despite its bumpy start, I had a wonderful time with you this evening... Mr. Karofsky," Kurt confided in a serious tone as they ascended the steps. He stopped one riser above Dave and turned to face him, adding, "But then, your presence would make any evening more enjoyable."
"I could say the same to you, Mr. Hummel," Dave murmured, one foot settling on the bottom stair as he reached for Kurt's hip.
Kurt pulled Dave up to the porch with him and placed a hand on his back. "I'm glad we feel so similarly about one another, Mr. Karofsky," Kurt said, pulling him closer. "Thank you for tonight." Then, suddenly and carefully, he channeled those romantic heroes again and dipped Dave into a kiss, smiling against his lips as he made a surprised sound.
Dave let out a laugh, one hand reaching back to grab the side railing as they kissed. "You're awfully forward," he teased quietly.
"You don't mind," Kurt replied as he set Dave upright again and let him go, grinning. "I've only done that with ninety-pound dancers before. I rock," he declared.
Dave shot him an exaggeratedly offended look."It's rude to make comments about your date's weight, Mr. Hummel!" he said with a huff that just barely
managed to come out without a side of snickering.
Kurt tried to keep a straight face and respond to Dave again, but laughter won out—and within a few seconds he was laughing so hard he had to sit down on the porch to keep from falling over.
Sitting down next to him, Dave grinned, slipping an arm around Kurt's shoulders to pull him in closer. "It's cold," he murmured, pressing a kiss into the other man's hair. "You wanna come in?"
"Just for a bit," Kurt said with a nod once he could speak without giggling. "I promised Dad and Carole I'd spend the night there—we're making breakfast together in the morning." He leaned into Dave for just a moment longer, savoring the warmth of him against his side, then took his hand and stood. "After you, Mr. Karofsky," he said graciously. "After all, it's your house."
Before they could actually get through the front door, though, Dave pressed the other man up against the wall next to it, leaning in to kiss him slowly.
Kurt's arms came up and around Dave's neck and he grazed his teeth over Dave's lower lip, soothing the nip with his tongue. He hummed into the kiss and, when it broke, murmured, "I'm going to miss you tonight." He pressed his forehead against Dave's shoulder and sighed.
"Naaah," Dave replied. "Can't miss me if you're sleeping," he jokingly added before pulling away, taking Kurt's hand. "C'mon."
"Hello, boys." Paul Karofsky's voice rang out from the living room as they walked in the house. Despite the flutters of the curtains Kurt had sworn he'd seen out of the corner of his eye while he and Dave were on the porch, the elder Karofsky looked for all the world like he'd been sitting on the sofa and reading the whole time. "How was dinner?"
"Fine, dad," Dave said with a quiet snort. "How's that book? Interesting?" he drawled.
"Oh, yes. I'm really enjoying it," Paul replied. "Very moving." He closed the book and set it down on the coffee table, then asked, "Can I get you boys something? Coffee, maybe, or some ice cream? I know Breadstix doesn't have a good dessert menu..."
Dave shifted his weight anxiously, looking like he was only barely restraining himself from rolling his eyes. "We're good, Dad. Thanks."
Kurt squeezed Dave's hand, then looked at Paul, who seemed to be on the verge of giving another invitation obviously designed to keep them downstairs. "Actually," he said, "I'd love some coffee." He shot Dave an apologetic look. "Haven't had enough caffeine today."
"It's fine," Dave sighed, chuckling softly. "You win, Dad." He let go of Kurt's hand to make his way to the couch, sitting down on the end.
"Great," Paul said, rising. "You sure you don't want anything, son?"
Shaking his head, Dave replied, "Nah, if I drink coffee I'll just be up all night; gotta get my oil changed in the morning before I forget for another three months."
Kurt turned to gape at Dave for a moment. After more than two decades as a mechanic's son, the idea of neglecting routine maintenance for that long was mind-boggling. Then he said, "Come by the garage tomorrow afternoon and I'll talk my dad into giving you the family discount." Burt might not have been working there anymore, but he was still in charge of the financial side of things, and it wouldn't be hard for Kurt to haggle him down to a free oil change for his boyfriend.
"You don't have to," Dave insisted, looking like he could appreciate the fact that Kurt wasn't chewing him out for neglecting his car.
"Sure I do," Kurt replied with a smile.
"Well, if you ever need to sue the shit out of someone I'll hook you up with my dad," Dave joked.
"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," Kurt said. "After all, once I'm rich and famous—instead of poor and famous—I'm sure the opportunity will arise." He grinned and crossed one leg over the other, then placed his hand on Dave's knee as Paul walked back in carrying a tray with two mugs, three bowls, and a tub of ice cream—and underneath it, a stack of what looked suspiciously like photo albums.
"... Dad, no
"I thought Kurt might want to take a look," Paul said innocently. He settled down in the easy chair after taking his cup of coffee and placing the tray next to the albums. "Those are documentation of David's first three years of life," he explained to Kurt, who was eyeing the albums with interest.
Kurt reached for one, but Dave was faster. He snatched the album, then shoved it under his ass. "No way. No. Way
"You realize that's not really a deterrent," Kurt said. He scooted just far enough away from Dave that he could wedge his fingers between his boyfriend and the photo album, then pinched his ass. It had the desired effect—Dave jerked upwards just enough that Kurt was able to quickly slip the album out from underneath him.
Dave groaned quietly, sinking back into the couch. "Goddamn it, Dad..." he sighed.
"It can't be all that bad," Kurt said as he opened to the first page, then he paused, looking down at the photos on display. Totally failing at keeping himself from cooing, he laughed, "Oh my God, you were adorable
"Is that the one with the little train conductor outfit?" Paul asked. Kurt nodded and held up the album so Paul could admire it, too.
"Okay, I was adorable. Are we done?" Dave groaned loudly, looking like all he wanted to do was disappear into the couch.
"Nope," Kurt said gleefully. He turned the page and tilted his head. "Why are you naked?" Turning another page, and then another, he came to a swift conclusion. "Was he allergic to clothes when he was a toddler?" he asked Paul.
Paul laughed. "He'd let you dress him," he said. "He just wouldn't keep the clothes on once you'd dressed him. There was an incident at my cousin Rita's wedding—"
Face darkening more by the second, Dave hazarded a glance at the book in Kurt's hands—then groaned again. "Dad
. Why do you have all these?"
"I wanted photos of my little boy," Paul replied. "It just so happened that my little boy preferred to be completely naked ninety percent of the time."
Kurt let out a sharp laugh as he turned the page and discovered the incident Paul had mentioned. There was tiny, toddler Dave, naked except for one shoe, with frosting covering his face and chest and his little hand totally embedded in the bottom tier of the wedding cake.
Finally, Dave grinned. "Ohhh my god, dude. That shit was hilarious.
"Oh, you don't remember that," Paul chuckled.
"No, I seriously do. Everyone was all, "Oh shit, can we get mad? He's a baby; he doesn't know better! Oh shit, don't laugh! Don't laugh!"
Kurt grinned and shook his head, flipping through a few more pages of tiny, naked Dave before coming to some photos where he was clothed. "So you're either naked or in costume," he commented.
"Or naked, in costume," Paul added. "Wait until you see the next album."
Dave looked confused for a moment, then he balked. "Oh god, Dad. Please don't show him that. I will literally fucking pay
you to skip that one."
"Now I have
to see it," Kurt murmured. "Nice Thomas costume, by the way," he added, gesturing at the reappearance of the conductor's costume, over which he wore a cardboard box painted to look like Thomas the Tank Engine.
"I made that the week before Halloween," Paul said. "He wanted to be Thomas so badly, but there weren't any costumes available. I figured if it'd keep clothes on him during trick-or-treating, the effort of making the costume would be worth it." He smiled fondly at his son.
"Pfft, I had the best costume there was," Dave pointed out, then tapped the picture. "Look at the kids in the background. Laaame."
Kurt squinted at the background of the photo. His eyes widened. "I think that's me
," he said, pointing at one of the toddlers, who was wearing a soft-looking green dinosaur costume.
"What—really?" Dave leaned in, looking harder at the picture. "Okay, well the dinosaur costume is badass," he amended.
"Weird to see my dad with hair," Kurt said, laughing. He stopped abruptly, however, when he realized that his dad's hair had once been the exact same color and shape as his. Touching his roots self-consciously, he turned the page, discovering yet more photos of Dave in various states of undress. One photo made him laugh out loud. "Nice underpants," he snickered.
"Shut up," Dave muttered. "I was a luchador. Clearly."
"I guess that explains the rain boots and the towel cape," Kurt replied.
"Are we done yet?" Dave asked with a sigh, though he didn't sound nearly as upset about it as when he'd first seen the books.*
Dave guessed it was silly, feeling like he'd never see Kurt again. This wasn't the last day of summer after senior year of high school or anything. He'd be back in New York in no time, and there was still winter break coming up. Still, as he helped Kurt load up, he couldn't help the uncomfortable pang that went through him.
"We were spoiled this week," Kurt murmured with a sigh. He set his carry-on inside the trunk and closed it. Then he turned to Dave and, abruptly, tightly wrapping his arms around him, said, "My first free weekend, I'm coming down to see you."
"Stop stealing my ideas, you hack," Dave joked quietly, returning the hug. He leaned in to kiss Kurt briefly.
"I prefer to think of it as collaboration," Kurt said as they parted.
"Fair enough," Dave gave in, reluctant to pull away.
From further up the driveway came the distinct sound of a purposefully cleared throat. "You gonna let me say goodbye to my kid before he leaves for the airport?" Burt asked when they turned their heads toward him.
"I was thinking about it, yeah," Dave replied with a grin.
Kurt stepped back and let Dave go, then, and walked up the driveway to hug his dad. "Bye, Dad," he said. "Thanks for—"
"Pretending not to notice that you spent most nights at Dave's house to circumvent the open door policy?" Burt asked. "Yeah, no problem, son."
Kurt blushed deeply. "I'll see you at Christmas, Dad... or when you next come to the city, whichever comes first."
"I'll see ya, kiddo," Burt murmured, pressing a quick kiss against the side of Kurt's forehead.
Kurt hugged Burt harder for a moment, then stepped away, smiling. He looked at Carole, who was standing by the car, waiting for him, then at Dave. "Can you give me a minute?" he asked, obviously unhappy about leaving.
"I can give you five," she replied with a knowing smile.
Dave tossed a grateful smile over his shoulder at Carole as he made his way up the drive to meet Kurt halfway. "We're being ridiculous," he pointed out, not really having much of a problem with that fact.
"Could be worse," Kurt replied, his voice muffled by Dave's hoodie. "We haven't gotten to the 'you
hang up!' level of patheticness."
Dave snorted softly, mind going to his teammate and his sweet (if clingy) girlfriend. "I'm hoping we see each other enough that we keep enough of our sanity to not get to that point at all."
"Fingers crossed," Kurt replied, smiling a little.
"I love you," Dave muttered, grip on Kurt tightening just a little.
Kurt pressed his face against Dave's hoodie and his breath hitched softly as he replied, "I love you," his embrace strengthening in kind. "So much."
Dave was pretty sure he'd never get tired of hearing that. "We're being pussies," he laughed softly. "Go. I'll talk to you when you get home, okay?" It was an effort to actually let go
of Kurt after saying the words.
With a faint sniffle, Kurt released Dave, hands dragging across Dave's back, then his shoulders and arms. He backed up a few paces, sniffled again, and blinked open eyes that were shiny with tears he was clearly too stubborn to shed. "I'll text you when I've landed," he murmured, looking like he wanted to hug himself.
"You better," Dave teased, reaching out to grab the other man's shoulders as he gave in to the urge to kiss him again before he left.
"I'm never going to leave at this rate," Kurt laughed as they parted again.
"Not the worst
plan in the world," Dave lied, grinning. "Alright—alright, get out of here; I'll talk to you soon, okay?"
"You better," Kurt echoed with a half-smile. He turned and waved at Burt. "Bye, Dad!" he called, before walking down the driveway to the car. "Ready?" he asked his stepmother.