“Hey,” says the voice on the other end of the line. “Sorry for calling so late. I just - I couldn’t sleep.”
Kurt lifts his phone from his face for a brief moment, squinting at the light coming from the screen in the dark of his room to see the small 1:19 AM displayed at the top. He blinks, putting the phone back to his face and speaking softly. “David, really, it’s fine. Is everything okay?”
He can hear Dave clearing his throat. “Yeah, I’m good, just - can you tell me again? Please?”
Kurt smiles softly. “Of course.”
It’s been like this since February, since… it happened. Kurt felt so guilty that he promised himself that he would always answer Dave’s calls, and had explicitly told Dave that as well. In the past two months Kurt’s lost count of the amount of times he’s spent on the phone with Dave, whether it be about mundane things or talking him through his future fantasy. And in the past month the fantasy’s become more elaborate, filled with more details, supplied by both himself and Dave.
“Alright. Close your eyes,” he says, stifling a yawn. “And picture it.”
He settles down further in his bed, eyes closing just as he’s sure Dave is doing at the same moment.
“Picture yourself in ten years. You’re living in the city of your dreams-”
“New York City,” Dave supplies and Kurt smiles.
“Right. You’re living in New York City. You have a fantastic apartment on the eleventh floor that overlooks the city where you can see skyscrapers for miles. There’s an amazing balcony where you drink coffee every morning with your husband as you watch the sunrise together. You get dressed in your suit - designer, Armani, that your husband picked out for you and convinced you that you look absolutely gorgeous in. Because yes, you clean up well. You looked amazing at prom last year, loathe as I was to admit it.” He smiles softly, hearing Dave let out a low laugh. “You go to your job where you are a wildly successful sports agent, signing on so many clients and sticking it to anyone who’s ever doubted you could ever be anything short of incredible.”
Dave sighs, a sharp exhalation of breath at Kurt’s words, feeling them wash over him.
“Your handsome husband and son come to visit you at your office because you’re taking the rest of the day off to take your son to his first football game. You kiss your husband hello, his hands going to rest on your shoulders. Your son comes running over to you, wearing the football jersey your dad got for him last Christmas, looking far too adorable in it for words as it’s still just a bit too big on him. You pick him up in your arms, watching as he points to the trophies on the shelf in your office, ones from clients you’ve signed on since starting your career. You look over to see your husband smiling at you and your son and lean over to him and say-”
“I’m so happy right now,” Dave finishes in a whisper, and they fall into a deafening silence.
Kurt bites at his lip briefly, shutting his eyes tightly. It’s heartbreaking to hear the pain that’s still buried so deeply inside of Dave, still there from so many years of repressed feelings. He thinks Dave could be happy if he’d only let himself be, and can see it sometimes, the way his eyes will seem to light up when he’s around Kurt and they can just relax around one another.
“Get some sleep,” says Kurt. “I’ll see you tomorrow at school, okay?”
He hears the tell tale click of the phone call ending and puts his phone back on the nightstand, before finally falling back into a restless sleep.
“...I’m so happy right now.”
It’s what Dave says every time. Like it’s something tangible, those words, like he can actually imagine himself saying them in this little future fantasy. The first time he said them, laying in that hospital bed, Kurt had opened his eyes to see Dave staring back at him. He wasn’t sure that day whether Dave had been saying them in the present or future, but now looking back on it Kurt is almost certain that it was both. A dream future to look forward to as well as being there with Kurt, just talking with the boy he claims to love. Dave’s feelings haven’t seemed to wane since that night at Breadstix, a thought which Kurt finds as terrifying as it is exhilarating. More terrifying than that, however, was that Kurt had started to feel something for Dave in return, something which he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something which, as much as he’s tried to squash it down, is a bit more than friendship.
“You go to the game and have a wonderful time,” Kurt continues. It’s the first time they’ve gone past the scene in Dave’s office. “Your son sits on your shoulders half the time, or between you and your husband as you try and explain the rules of the game to him, though he’s too young to really understand yet. Still, he sees you cheering as your team wins and he claps and cheers with you because he can see how happy you are as well.”
Dave’s silent for a moment. “He sounds like a great kid,” he says and Kurt can hear the smile in his voice.
“He is. He’s an amazing kid.”
“How, uhm - how’d we have him?”
Kurt feels the way his heart skips a beat, though he knows the we Dave is referring to has nothing to do with him but is Dave and his future partner. This has nothing to do with him, he’s nowhere near this made up future scenario. He closes his eyes tightly for a moment, shaking his head. “You, uhm… a surrogate. One of your friends, maybe,” he says, voice wavering slightly.
“Oh god, no,” Kurt laughs. “I really don’t think you want her crazy girl DNA. Someone much more stable and without so much pent up rage.”
Dave’s quiet. “Maybe we’ll have found someone by then. You know, in the future or whatever.” Silence fills the air before Dave speaks again. “I should probably go. I have to be up early for a morning practice. But, uhm. Thanks. Again.”
“Right. Of course. Goodnight, David.”
Kurt stares at the ceiling for a moment, trying to collect some semblance of rational thought. He doesn’t like David like that. He has a boyfriend. A boyfriend who has no idea about his late night phone calls with Dave. A boyfriend who will be devastated to learn he’s been keeping secrets from him if he should ever find out.
A boyfriend who has been growing increasingly distant from him as of late for seemingly no reason and who has been ignoring him and blowing him off more often than not.
It’s just a little secret to help out a new friend. That’s all it is.
“You okay?” Blaine asks the next day as they’re brainstorming song ideas for Nationals. “You seem a little tired.”
Kurt bites back a yawn. He’d stayed up far too late the night before, plagued by his never ending thoughts that just wouldn’t seem to leave his mind no matter how much he tried. He nods, giving Blaine a smile, knowing that it almost certainly looks forced. “Of course. I just couldn’t really sleep is all.” It’s not a complete lie, anyway.
“Oh. Do you want to do something tonight? We could go see a movie if you want.”
Kurt gives him his best sad smile. “Sorry, I can’t. Dave’s coming over to hang out.”
He watches as Blaine’s face falls, clearly getting more agitated by the second, try as he might to conceal it. “Right,” he says. “I didn’t know you were seeing him tonight.”
Kurt tries hard not to glare at him from the tone in Blaine’s voice. “I told you three days ago. It’s not my fault if you weren’t listening.”
“I just don’t understand why you two have to hang out all the time,” Blaine bursts, causing a few people to turn to look at them. “He’s fine, he doesn’t need somebody coddling him.”
“And how could you possibly understand what he needs? It’s not like you’ve talked to him more than twice since it happened, it’s not as though you’ve made any effort at all, actually.”
“Believe me, I’ve tried-” Blaine says, scoffing.
“No, I’ve tried. And I’m sorry but I don’t understand why you’re getting so upset about this. Am I not allowed to have friends now, is that it?”
“Not ones who have thrown a week’s full of presents at you before confessing their undying love for you.”
“Wait, hold up, what?” Artie interjects as a few people gape at them or start chattering to each other and honestly this is ridiculous and is quickly turning chaotic. Kurt sighs, feeling a headache coming on.
“I told you about all of that because I wanted to be honest with you, Blaine, not so that you could throw it in my face when you found a moment that was convenient for you.” He shakes his head, trying to take deep breaths. “You know what? You’re being crazy. I’m not going to stop being friends with Dave just because you don’t like it and have found a convenient moment to have a lovers’ quarrel. Now you can either accept the fact that I’m friends with him or not, but I’m not just going to ditch him, especially at a time where he really needs someone to be there for him.”
It certainly feels like an appropriate moment for a dramatic diva-esque storm out, so he grabs his bag and that’s exactly what he does.
They’re in the middle of watching Sweet Home Alabama that night when Dave turns to him, a look of concern mixed with confusion on his face.
“What’s wrong with you tonight?”
Kurt stares at him. “What?”
“Did you wanna watch something else or whatever? I thought you liked this movie. Or is it something else? You okay?”
Blaine’s words from earlier that day in the choir room echo back at him, spilling from Dave’s mouth this time instead, and he has to will himself to not heave a sigh, instead choosing to give Dave a tight smile. “I’m fine.”
Dave grabs the remote from the coffee table, hitting pause on the movie. “Bullshit.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Don’t give me that, Hummel, tell me what’s wrong. You help me with my problems, now I’m gonna help you with yours. Now what the hell is going on with you tonight?”
“It’s nothing,” Kurt says, picking at the blanket covering his lap. When he looks up, Dave’s looking at him with a look of seriously? Kurt sighs. It’s probably ill advised to talk about your relationship problems with the boy who once told you he loved you but it wasn’t as though Finn was going to be much help in this department. “Fine. Blaine and I, we sort of had a fight today and now we’re not talking. A fairly big fight, if I’m being completely honest.”
“Honestly? It was about you.”
Dave stares. “What about me?”
“About you, about me being friends with you, spending time with you like this,” says Kurt, rolling his eyes.
“Why? I’m not doing anything.”
“I know that. I think it’s more about him not trusting me than it is about you.”
“The hell are you talking about?”
“I think he thinks I’m going to cheat on him or something? I don’t know exactly, but honestly I should be the one who’s worried, not him. He hasn’t exactly ended his friendship with Sebastian, who has yet to cease trying to get with him, and I haven’t asked him to stop being friends with him, either, because I don’t really feel that it’s my place to tell someone who they can be friends with. But he seems to want me to stop being friends with you, though. Which I’m not going to do,” Kurt quickly assures him at Dave’s look of discomfort. “I really like spending time with you and talking on the phone with you and I like just being friends with you in general.”
Dave looks down at his hands in his lap. “I don’t want you guys to break up or fight or whatever just because of me.”
“Listen, if we break up over something as stupid as him telling me who I can and cannot be friends with then fine. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be then. I know that not every relationship lasts. Despite him being my first love, I know that it’s possible that he may not be my last. But I refuse to end my friendship with you because of my boyfriend. That’s insane, I wouldn’t do something like that.”
“You sure? I mean, we… we don’t have to hang out anymore if you don’t want to.”
“David,” Kurt implores with a small smile. “I’m positive. Now will you please just press play?”
Dave nods reluctantly and the movie starts to play on the screen once again.
When he looks down not twenty minutes later Kurt’s fast asleep on his shoulder, his breathing steady and even while Dave’s gets caught in his throat at the proximity of him.
“...Your team wins and he sees you cheering so he does it as well because he can see how happy you are.”
“And then what?”
He’s getting pretty good at making up stories in his head. He’s starting to wonder if he should write a book it comes so easily to him.
“You get a babysitter for the night. One of your friends with kids takes him for the night for a sleepover so you and your husband can have a romantic night alone at home. You spend the night cooking dinner together and sharing loving glances across the table while holding hands before going to eat dessert on the couch.”
“What kind of dessert?”
Kurt thinks for a moment. “Hmm, cheesecake maybe.”
“I love cheesecake,” Dave says lowly.
Kurt hums. “Cheesecake is my favorite. Don’t tell anyone, though, I have a reputation of healthy eating to uphold.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.”
Kurt smiles and they fall into silence as he stares into the ceiling, thinking. “David?”
“How are you really doing lately? Is this… is it helping? Talking about the future, something to look forward to, I mean. You and me spending time together.”
Dave’s quiet for a moment. “I think so, yeah,” he says quietly. “Like talking about things like this, it makes me think that I could actually be happy and have a good life. It’s nice to think about.”
“Good. I’m glad.”
His phone rings two nights later, a Thursday when Burt and Carole are out of town and he’s invited Blaine over for the night. They’ve patched things up, for the most part anyway - Blaine’s still being completely unreasonable about the situation with Dave, and Kurt had been the one to apologize to him, though he’s not sure why exactly. He thinks mostly it was to keep the peace and not let their relationship be destroyed over something so small as a friend.
Blaine’s kissing down his bare chest, laving at his skin with his tongue after leaving tiny bites, to which Kurt yelps in surprise each time. Blaine moves further on top of him, straddling his sides as he grinds his hips down against Kurt’s, moving their bodies together. He leans down, pressing a long, lip-bruising kiss to Kurt’s mouth before sucking a hickey on his neck.
Dave seems to have called at the perfect time before this can go any further, Kurt’s phone buzzing on the nightstand beside him. He pushes Blaine further up and off of him, giving him the best apologetic look that he can muster, though the call could not have come at a better time with the way Blaine was sucking and biting at his skin like a goddamn vampire with an unquenchable thirst.
“Sorry,” he says when he sees who’s calling, “it’s Dave.”
“Just let it go to voicemail,” says Blaine, and leans back down to work another hickey into his neck before Kurt’s pushing him all the way off and slipping out from under him.
Kurt tries not to glare too hard. “You know I can’t do that, Blaine,” he mutters before adding on a “you should probably go.”
Blaine lets out an unamused laugh. “Because of a phone call? Are you serious?”
“Look, we talk all the time on the phone. They’re fairly long, in depth conversations, so this is likely to go on for a while and I would rather you not be here staring at me the entire time.”
“Kurt, it’s almost midnight-”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, now can you please just go?” Blaine stares at him in shock as he answers the call, hopping off the bed and searching for his shirt that Blaine had previously thrown to the floor. “Hi, David.”
“Hey, you okay? You sound a little out of breath or something.”
The concern in Dave’s voice is comforting and brings a small smile to his face despite his previous mood. He turns back around to see that Blaine has left; he’s both grateful and anxious, knowing that he’s going to have to explain all of this to Blaine sooner rather than later.
“I’m fine, David, thank you.” He sighs, closing his door before turning off the light and laying back down in his bed. “And how are you?”
“Can we talk?”
Blaine nods, shutting his locker and following Kurt into the empty choir room. They each take a seat on the piano bench before Kurt’s opening the covering to reveal the white and black keys. He plays a few notes, taking a deep breath, and talks quietly.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“Why didn’t you?” Blaine asks softly.
Kurt shrugs one shoulder, not exactly sure how to explain it all. “I don’t know, it’s just… it’s sort of become our thing, I suppose.”
“The phone calls. Ones late at night in particular. Whenever he can’t sleep or if he just needs someone to talk to, I’m the one he calls. I told him that day in the hospital to call me whenever he needed to, that I would always answer no matter the time. He doesn’t have many friends left, Azimio won’t talk to him anymore since his outing, and I can only imagine how lonely that must be. So… so I’m there for him. Whenever he needs it, whatever time it is, I always answer. Because that’s what I promised him. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, it’s just…” he takes a deep shuddering breath, willing himself not to break down into a blubbering mess. “I can’t help but think that if I’d just answered one of his calls that day that he might not have… that maybe if I’d been there for him then none of this would have happened.”
“You can’t seriously think that what happened is your fault?”
“What if it is, though?” Kurt asks in a small voice, pressing incessantly in a slow and steady rhythm on one of the deep, low-pitched keys. Blaine reaches for his hand, effectively halting his finger from playing the note any more. Kurt looks over at him to see a pained look of understanding on Blaine’s face.
“It’s not,” says Blaine reassuringly. He pauses, looking carefully at Kurt, scrutinizing as Kurt starts to play the note once again. “Can… can I ask you something?” Kurt hums questioningly. “What do you two talk about so much?”
Kurt hits a slightly higher note. “The future, mostly,” he says. “What his life could be like in ten years. I… I’m helping him dream about a life that he can look forward to.”
Blaine looks a little confused but doesn’t question the implications behind it too much. “Oh. And what kind of things does this dream life have?”
Kurt shrugs. “I don’t know. A husband. A kid. Living in a gorgeous apartment in New York that overlooks the city. Having an amazing job.” It’s a highly condensed version of the truth, of what he and Dave actually talk about, but he’s not exactly wanting to spill everything to Blaine. It just seems far too personal. When Blaine doesn’t say anything, he turns to look at him, only to see Blaine staring at him. “What?”
“Nothing, it’s just…” Blaine shakes his head. “That sounds a lot like something you’ve told me before that you would want someday.”
“Lots of people want things like that, Blaine.”
“Maybe, but Kurt, do you - do you have feelings for him?”
He’s sure he must look so awkward in that moment, eyes wide and mouth open gaping like a fish as he feels his face growing hot. “I…”
“I don’t know,” Kurt finally says. “I don’t know, I just…”
“It’s nice to know that I’m helping him,” he says, instead of telling the truth, instead of telling Blaine that he’s thought for weeks now that he might have some sort of feelings for Dave. “I don’t know how to explain it, really, but - but talking to him about the future like that, even though it’s a completely imaginary scenario, I can tell that it’s helping him. It’s like… like he used to be way down here, like this is how he felt-” he smashes a few of the piano keys on the far left of the scale, “-and now he’s more around here.” He plays a melody with a few keys past the middle of the piano, veering toward the right, hearing their higher pitch ring throughout the room. “And I’m just trying to get him all the way to that high C. Does that make any sense at all?”
Blaine nods after a moment, giving him a sad smile. “You like him,” he says. This time it isn’t a question, and Kurt can’t really deny it anymore, either. He turns his gaze back to his fingers on the piano keys, staring at their place.
“I never expected this. I never expected to feel anything like that for him. But I think I just need some time to sort everything out, to figure out what I’m really feeling here.”
“So we're breaking up,” Blaine surmises.
“I still love you, Blaine,” says Kurt quietly. “I love you so much, which is why this hurts me so much, because I honestly never thought that I would be breaking up with you, especially like this. Please believe me when I say that. You’re still one of my best friends and - and I don’t want to lose you.”
“Hey,” Blaine interjects, tugging at Kurt’s arm until he looks at him. “You’re not gonna lose me. Okay?”
Kurt nods, pulling him into a long hug. It’s awkward, given their positions sitting on the bench side by side, but Kurt relishes the comfort nonetheless.
“Can you do one thing for me?” Kurt says when they part, wiping away the stray tears from his eyes.
“Can you please just try with Dave, can you at least give him a chance?” Blaine lets out a low groan, until Kurt’s squeezing his arm. “For me. Please,” he says. “He could use another friend. Especially someone who’s not only gay but who he can also talk about sports with, because god knows I’m not exactly helpful in that department.”
“Yeah, not so much. Me sticking my tongue down your throat while explaining the rules of football to you in between kisses isn’t probably going to help much with him, is it.”
“Oh god,” says Kurt, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “Now that’s an image I’ll never be able to get out of my mind.”
“I guess I’m lucky he already knows the rules of the game, then,” says Blaine with a grin.
“...You eat cheesecake for dessert on the couch before going into the kitchen to clean up the dishes. You have them all in the sink before your husband’s hands are on you, hugging you from behind as he presses kisses to your neck. He whispers into your ear how much he loves you and you say-”
“How I can’t believe how happy I am that this is my life.”
Kurt smiles, eyes still closed as he tries to picture the scene before him. “You turn around in his arms to face him, kissing him hard and slow, and when you finally pull away after a minute you can see how kiss-swollen his lips are, his face flushed as he smiles at you. He tells you again how much he loves you and you smile back at him, backing him up against the kitchen counter. He kisses you again, and you help each other get undressed quickly before… you, uhm…”
Dave’s voice comes through the other end of the line after a second, quiet and sounding slightly in awe of the picture being painted in his mind. “Before what, Kurt?”
Kurt can feel the way his cheeks start to heat. He can’t believe he’s actually doing this, saying things like this, much less to Dave. “B-before you’re making love against the counter,” he finishes quietly.
Dave’s quiet, the sound of his breathing reverberating in Kurt’s ear through the phone. “With his legs wrapped tight around my waist, yeah?”
“I… yeah. His legs wrapped around your waist as your hands hold the backs of his thighs as you move faster and he bites down hard on your shoulder-”
“Fuck,” Dave breathes, sounding a little unsteady.
Unconsciously, Kurt lets the hand not gripping his phone graze along his chest, traveling south before he’s tugging at the waistband of his pajama bottoms. This is wrong, he shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be getting hard just from talking about some imaginary scenario between Dave and his future husband having sex in the kitchen. This is supposed to be about making Dave feel good, though, about helping him imagine a future where he can be happy. And that includes things like sex, right?
He lets out a shaky sigh, eyes closed tightly. “I… I should go. Goodnight, David,” he says and ends the call before Dave can say anything more, throwing his phone beside him on the bed.
He doesn’t know where all of that came from. He’s not usually so bold, talking openly about things like that, about what he wants when it comes to sex.
Which is when it hits him and he stares blankly for what seems like the millionth time at the ceiling in the dark.
What he was describing, all of this - Dave’s future with his husband, their son, living in New York, the Armani suit Dave was wearing, eating cheesecake before having sex against the kitchen counter… they’re all things Kurt’s been imagining for his own future, not only Dave’s. A dream life that Kurt’s been hoping he would someday have.
Somewhere along the line his future has merged with Dave’s. And if that isn’t a terrifying thought then he doesn’t know what is.
“So I didn’t see you much at school today,” Dave says when Kurt answers the phone the next night.
It’s barely ten o’clock, much earlier than Dave will usually call when he can’t sleep.
“I - yeah, I was kind of busy. Didn’t really have time to talk in between classes.” Kurt swallows hard. It’s a stupid, ridiculous excuse that he’s sure Dave isn’t going to buy in the least, and even he knows that. Besides the fact that it’s not even remotely true. Whenever he saw Dave in the hallway that day he’d turn around and go back the other way to get to class. He ended up being late to three of them.
“You avoiding me?”
“Why would you say that?” Kurt asks, voice going even higher.
Dave sighs. “Because I think I saw you like once today and you looked like a deer caught in the headlights before you turned around and ran off. Did I do something?”
“What? David, no-”
“This about last night?”
Yes. “No, of course not.”
“Then what?” Dave asks, sounding impatient.
Kurt clenches his jaw. “It’s nothing, just nevermind.”
“Just tell me what the fuck I did, Hummel-”
“You didn’t do anything-”
“Damn it, Kurt, just tell me what the hell happened between last night and today to make you hate me again!”
“I couldn’t stop picturing it, okay!”
Dave’s quiet. “What?”
“I couldn’t stop picturing… that. You. You fucking your stupid perfect future husband against the kitchen counter and wishing it was me you were doing that to,” he blurts, the words falling from his tongue before he can stop them. “Oh god,” he adds in a whisper.
It seems like an eternity that they sit in silence, the quiet accusatory.
“You…” Dave starts, voice small before he clears his throat. “You wish it was you?”
Kurt doesn’t know what to say, feeling the way he starts to shake as he lays back on his bed. “I…”
“You wish you were my husband?”
“I - I don’t know, I just-”
“You wish we had a kid, all of us living in New York together? In an apartment where we’d drink coffee on the balcony while watching the sunrise?”
“Going to football games with our kid, having romantic nights in and fucking you against the kitchen counter.”
“God, David, fuck, you need to stop,” Kurt says, swallowing hard as a hand splays over his stomach.
“Why?” Dave asks lowly. “I want that, too. With you, I mean.”
“Fuck yeah,” Dave breathes. “I think I’ve always kinda pictured it being you, ever since you started doing this for me or whatever. It’s always been you. God, I want it to be you so fucking bad, you don’t even know.”
“And… and what would you do, David? What would you do if you had me?” Kurt asks quietly. This is toeing the line a little, going there without crossing it too far. He already knows that Dave wants him, has some sort of feelings for him, but has never explicitly told him what he would do with Kurt if he was his. The thought of it is exhilarating, to be wanted so badly, so passionately that Dave can hardly contain himself.
“What would I do?”
“If I was there with you, right now. What would you do?” This isn’t the future anymore, no imaginary scenario between Dave and his future husband. It’s the here and now, just Dave and Kurt and nobody else. “Tell me, David, please.”
“Where are you right now? Are you in your bed?”
“Then picture it. Picture me there with you, in your bed. What would you do if I was there with you? Tell me, David.”
It’s a minute before Dave can answer but when he does finally it nearly stops Kurt’s breathing. “I - I’d kiss your jawline and move down your neck before finally kissing your collarbone. I’d kiss any part of your skin I could see because fuck you have the nicest skin, Kurt. I’d run my hands along your sides and feel you shiver underneath me, making you breathless just from me touching you. God, I wanna touch you so bad.”
“David, yes,” Kurt whispers, moving his hand from his stomach to let his fingertips move lightly over his side. “Wish I was there with you right now.”
“I’d move your hair out of your face and run my hand through it and see you staring back up at me with a shy little smile on your face. And then I’d lean down and watch your eyes close before kissing you softly. I’d make up for kissing you like I did last year. I’d do it better this time, you’d tell me you wanted it before I did anything. And you’d actually kiss me back this time.”
“Yes. Yes, I’d kiss you back,” says Kurt, eyes closing tightly as he bites his lip, muffling a moan.
“Don’t,” Dave says, more confident now. “Don’t stop. Wanna hear you.”
Kurt nods, though he knows Dave can’t see it, breathing going more shallow and letting the noises building up inside start to escape him. “What… what else?”
“You’d wrap your arms around my neck and hook your legs around my waist and I’d kiss your neck and listen to you breathing my name like it was the only thing you could possibly say. Until you’re grinding your hips up against mine and begging me to fuck you, begging me to make love to you like I’ve always dreamed of. ‘Cause god, I’ve wanted to for so fucking long, Kurt, you have no idea.”
“You’ve dreamed of making love to me, David?”
He listens as Dave’s breath goes shallow, listens as Dave lets out a small groan. “So many times.”
“H-how many times?”
“Dunno,” mutters Dave. “Lost count.”
“David,” Kurt breathes, the revelation startling. When Dave told him how he felt about Kurt on Valentine’s Day he’d never really thought about Dave thinking about him in that way. He’d never thought that Dave sat at home some nights, picturing the two of them together like that. The thought of it now makes Kurt’s hand travel further south, palming his clothed cock and causing him to let out a soft whimper as his hand moves along his erection.
“God, you have no idea what you do to me, do you,” says Dave, voice quiet. “Fuck, just - sometimes I wake up after one of the nights where you’d tell about this perfect fucking future and just realize how much I wish it was you I was with. That kid, that apartment, that dream life.” He pauses, breathing faster and Kurt has to wonder if he’s doing the same thing he’s doing right now to himself. “After last night, this morning I woke up from a dream where I was fucking you against the kitchen counter, just like you were describing last night, your long legs wrapped around me and biting down on my shoulder like that. God, why’d you have to talk about sex, I got it bad enough for you as it is, fuck.”
“Be… because I want it,” Kurt whispers, eyes closed tightly as he bucks up into his hand. “Fuck, I want you so bad, David, I don’t even know when it happened, just - want you. Holding me up, t-touching me, doing whatever you wanted.”
“Touching you where, Kurt, tell me.”
“Everywhere,” Kurt says, feeling himself nearing the edge the more they talk, words of admittance. “Your hands in my hair, on my back, your hands on my ass as you fuck me harder, god, wanna f-feel you in me, David-” he comes with a gasp, writhing on the bed as he rides out his orgasm. Distantly he can hear through the pounding in his ears Dave letting out an exclamation of his name as well, making it sound like a prayer.
The silence stretches out between them for a long moment, the sounds of their breathing the only thing to be heard from each end of the line connecting them.
Finally Kurt catches his breath enough to speak, a tiny smile on his lips. “David?” he says timidly. “You still there?”
“Fuck,” Dave groans on the other end and Kurt lets out a low laugh, the sound rumbling in his chest as he runs a hand through his hair, tugging on the strands in an effort to ground him.
“That was…” Kurt trails off, not even sure how to put into words what exactly just occurred.
“You…” Kurt swallows. “Did we seriously just have phone sex?”
“I think so.” Dave exhales sharply and laughs with him. “You started it.”
Kurt glances around his room, eyes landing finally on an object on one of the shelves on his wall. There, nestled among a whole myriad of other mementos, is the prom queen crown and scepter with a photo of him and Blaine dancing from that night. The overhead light of his room is still on, giving a small glint to the shiny gold plastic of the crown. Memories suddenly start to play back in his mind from that night, the way he’d felt being voted prom queen, the way he’d been on such a high after telling everyone in that stupid school to essentially fuck off and accepted his royal status that he’d pressured Dave into coming out right then and there, the way it felt to know it had been completely the wrong moment to say such a thing as he turned to watch Dave walking away.
And now. He can feel himself start to smile shyly again at the thought that Dave’s come so far in not even a year’s time. Coming out, though not on his own terms and certainly not an ideal situation, is a big deal. Admitting his feelings to Kurt in a booth at Breadstix after spending an entire week showering him with gifts and saying how Kurt had no idea how much he’d helped him, helped him to come to terms with himself and who he is in this world.
Picturing a future where he could be happy, letting Kurt dream with him of a perfect little life that he could have, letting him unknowingly insert himself into Dave’s world and be that handsome partner for him.
“I guess I did, huh?”
When Kurt sees him in the hallway the next day between second and third period, his footsteps halt in the middle of the corridor as though rooted to the ground. They hadn’t said much more after the incident (as it has now been labeled in Kurt’s head) on the phone the night before, the tension hanging in the air between them palpable.
He hadn’t really known what to say, too embarrassed by the pure desperation that had been in his voice, the way he’d gotten off with Dave as they described some little fantasy, and they’d left it with an awkward I’ll see you later before finally Kurt tore his phone away from his face after hearing Dave end the call.
He wants to smack himself for letting this whole thing get so out of control. It was supposed to be about helping Dave in his recovery. Not about inserting himself into some make believe land where he and Dave are married with a kid.
And yet - just seeing Dave standing there at his locker now and shoving a textbook into his backpack, it’s like some strange magnetic pull as he bites his lip and strides quickly over to him.
“Hi!” he chirps, a little too loudly and enthusiastically and honest to god actually sounding like a damn bird. He must, because Dave jumps a bit, before shutting his locker and turning to look at him wide eyed. Kurt watches as Dave’s face seems to heat up, cheeks turning pink.
“Uh, hey,” Dave mumbles, slinging both straps of his bag over his shoulder and seeming to curl in on himself. Kurt makes a mental note to tell him to stop hunching all the time; not only is it uncomfortable to look at but it’s bad for his back as well.
“So about last night-”
Dave shakes his head, effectively making the words halt in his throat. “Dude, you don’t gotta say anything,” he says, voice small as Kurt furrows his brows at him. “It was the heat of the moment or whatever. We all say stuff we don’t mean sometimes.” He starts to move past him but Kurt catches his arm, stopping him mid-step.
“What are you talking about?”
Dave looks around the hallway, eyes darting around at the throng of students walking through the hallway before finally looking back at Kurt to see his confused gaze. “I… I know you didn’t actually mean all that last night,” he says with a sigh. “It was just to make me feel better or whatever, like always. I know you don’t actually like me like that and that’s - that’s cool, it’s whatever. I never really expected you to. So let’s just stay friends, I know that’s all we’ll ever be anyway, so-”
“That’s not what I was going to say at all, actually,” Kurt cuts in and Dave stops to stare at him blankly.
Kurt shakes his head shortly. “Not at all.”
“Oh,” Dave finally settles on saying after a moment. “What, uh. What were you gonna say, then?”
“I wanted to tell you what I picture my life to be like in ten years.”
Kurt smiles, moving the hand from Dave’s arm down to link their fingers together and dragging him into the nearest empty classroom.
“What’re you doing?”
Kurt takes a seat on top of one of the desks with a tiny smile and closing his eyes softly. “I’m living in a fabulous Manhattan apartment that overlooks the city. There’s a balcony where I can sit and watch the sunrise every morning with a cup of coffee.”
Dave sighs but takes a seat next to him. “Kurt, you really don’t have to do this-”
“Shh,” Kurt says quietly, squeezing his hand. “Don’t interrupt me, I’m dreaming here.”
He waits a beat, half expecting Dave to say something biting back but it never comes.
“I’m married to my ruggedly handsome husband who I’ve been with since the end of high school after we decided to give it a shot and see where it went. And I’m so glad I did because I could not be happier. We have a son, a beautiful little boy named Alex, who we had when Rachel oh so graciously offered to be our surrogate. Sometimes I look at the two of them together, my husband and son, and my heart swells so much I can hardly breathe because I love them so much.” He hears a quiet sob beside him, a hitch in Dave’s breath, and holds his hand tighter. “We both have amazing jobs. He’s a successful sports agent at his own firm and I’m an editor at Vogue and am starting my own clothing line. In all, it’s a life full of long walks through Central Park and baking brownies at two in the morning when we can’t sleep and having sex against the kitchen counter when Rachel takes Alex for the night to give us some time alone. More than anything, though, it’s a life full of love with the one person who not even in my wildest dreams would I have believed would become one of my best friends.” He opens his eyes, staring down at their clasped hands as he feels his eyes start to fill with unshed tears. “Because strangely enough, David Karofsky, you really have become one of my best friends, believe it or not. You don’t take any of my shit when I say I’m fine and I’m really not, and you watch stupid romantic comedies with me that I know for a fact you must really hate, and you let me vent to you about the things that are bothering me.”
“Whatever,” says Dave, and Kurt looks over to see his face flushed and with dried tear tracks on his face as he shrugs, “it’s not a big deal.”
“It is, though. It’s a very big deal.” He offers Dave a smile, feeling Dave’s thumb rub slowly along his hand. “So what do you say? You want to give this a shot and see where it goes?”
Dave nods, flashing him a smile. “More than anything.”