Fic: The Space Between Our Wicked Lies, 1/1
Title: The Space Between Our Wicked Lies, 1/1
Author: knittycat99
Rating: R for language and non-graphic M/M sex
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Kurt/Karofsky, with appearances by Burt and Carole and OMCs
Genre: romance/angst
Spoilers: seasons 1 and 2 for past events, but we left canon back at Prom Queen
Disclaimer: I don't own the boys or anything else related to Glee
Author Notes: The 13th installment of my Seasons Change Verse, which can be found HERE if you've missed any. See the end for another A/N.
Summary: Negotiations, holidays, and the hard things about decision-making
Word Count: 4,847
Kurt is pulled from drowning by the unmistakable sound of his father clearing his throat.
“Boys. Let’s bring it inside before the whole neighborhood gets a show.”
When Kurt looks away from Dave and over to where his dad is standing in the open front door, he sees that although his voice was stern, his eyes are dancing. Kurt grabs his backpack and laundry basket, decides that everything else can wait, and motions for Dave to put the back down and follow him into the house. Kurt hugs his dad and Carole, and asks after Finn, who had a late exam and won’t be home until the morning. And before they have a chance to be sucked into more small talk, Kurt practically pushes Dave up the stairs.
“I don’t care that you’re both in college. The door stays open! And I will be checking!” His dad’s voice echoes up the stairs even as Kurt pulls Dave into his room and closes the door with an almost silent click.
Dave is on him in a heartbeat, and while Kurt wants all of it, he has to step back. Because they haven’t even talked since August, and all he’s gotten are those damn postcards, and there’s Toby and he has no idea if Dave’s been seeing anyone at Berkeley, and they need to freaking talk.
“Whoa. Slow down, cowboy.” Kurt backs away and busies himself with emptying his backpack as a way to keep his hands firmly to himself. “Why don’t you sit, and we can talk like rational human beings.” Instead of hormone-crazed boys.
“I’m sorry. God. It’s just. Shit.” Dave looks hollow, like the semester took something hard and deep from him. It’s how Kurt feels. He wonders if it has anything to do with their being apart. Or if it has everything to do with their being apart. Dave continues, his voice raspy and full of emotion. “I’m sorry, Kurt. I’m sorry I pushed you away. It was the biggest mistake, and I couldn’t . . . I didn’t know what to do or say. And I was really only barely holding it together and I knew if I called then . . .”
Kurt crosses the room and lets his finger fall soft and silent against Dave’s mouth. “Shhh. I know. We were broken. I couldn’t decide if I wanted you to call or not. Because it hurt more than I had expected, and I was so mad at myself for making you break up with me. For that stupid deal. For falling in love with you and then letting you walk away. And I really didn’t think that I needed this. You. I was doing better.”
“So what happened?”
They’re still standing, not quite touching, but Kurt can feel Dave’s nerves, ever jingling, and the heat from his body. Can smell the familiar and comforting faint tang of aftershave. “I went out dancing last night, with this kid I met at Thanksgiving. We’ve been out a couple of times, and he likes me. And I think I could like him. But I had to see this first. I had to know.”
“Know what?”
“If we’re in this or not.” Kurt isn’t sure what his revelation is going to get him, but he definitely isn’t expecting Dave to wrap him up in his arms, to feel the gentle puff of Dave’s sigh against his hair. To hear Dave’s indecision.
“I don’t know. If we’re in this. Things are complicated for me, too.”
“You have someone at school.”
“No. Well. Not really. Like you, someone who’s interested, and I might be interested, too. But you’re right. We need to deal with our shit first.”
“So what do we do?” Because damn, Kurt doesn’t want to seem needy, but it’s how he feels, so he lets a little bit creep into his voice.
“We say goodnight. I go home to my dad and you see your family. And tomorrow we meet for coffee and talk.”
“Coffee and talking.”
“Yeah. I remember when we used to be good at it.”
Kurt smiles at the memory, but it all feels so long ago. So innocent, so . . . not who he is now. But he figures he can handle it. He sighs before he speaks. “Okay.”
“Same time, same place?”
“Sure.”
*****
3:30 at the Lima Bean, nonfat mocha and vanilla latté, like nothing has changed. But everything has changed, and Dave is about to crawl out of his skin.
Kurt looks beautiful, even clearly sleep deprived and dressed more down than Dave has ever seen him in jeans and sneakers and an ultra-baggy Yale sweatshirt. Dave pushes Kurt’s mocha across the table to him as he settles into his chair, and then they sit and stare at each other for a few minutes. Dave finally finds the words he’s been swallowing around since last night.
“Tell me about the boy. The one from Thanksgiving.”
“I can’t just tell you about that, because it would make no sense. I have to tell you all of it. We’ve missed months, Dave. It’s not that easy. It’s not supposed to be easy.”
“I’m so-”
Kurt sighs at him then, in that way he has for all the people in his life who disappoint them. Dave tenses, because he thought he’d stopped being one of those people so long ago. But he also knows that he has no right to expect anything else, no anymore.
“Don’t you dare tell me you’re sorry again.” Kurt’s voice is like glass. “I know. I’m sorry, too. For all of it. But we either do this and move forward, however that’s going to be, or we do this and walk away. But we have to do the talking first.”
“Okay.” Dave runs his hand through his hair, twists the drawstring on his hoodie. Stops, finally, because he knows his endless fidgeting drives Kurt out of his mind. “So. Tell me about your semester, and I’ll tell you about mine, and we’ll go from there.”
“Again, not easy. Because I don’t know about yours, but my semester kind of sucked.”
Dave releases a harsh laugh at Kurt’s bluntness. “So what happened?”
Dave sips at his drink and listens to stories about drunken board games and feeling alone, which is nothing new, and learning how to make friends. About a professor, and a Thanksgiving dinner party, and a kiss in the snow. And then Kurt’s talking about these books that the professor loaned him, and how he’s going to take a creative writing class next semester, and if he likes it he can add the concentration to his English major. But Dave’s brain is still back on the kiss and this Toby kid, and the weird-sounding professor who seems to collect outcasts, which just seems wrong even though Kurt sounds so excited about finally feeling like he fits somewhere. When he finally winds down, telling Dave about inviting Toby to his room and being turned down, Dave isn’t sure what to think. Because, yeah, it sure sounds like school was hard for Kurt at the beginning, but Dave thinks that maybe Kurt is getting on better at Yale than he does at Berkeley. He just kind of takes it all in and nods, and then Kurt is looking at him with wide eyes and asking “How was your semester?”
Dave talks around it, really. He tells Kurt about his roommates, and how easy it is to just be honest with people because he’s kind of anonymous, but in a good way. What his classes are like, and that he’s thinking about going for a sociology minor even though it makes more sense to do an education minor instead, and he actually has Kurt laughing over his ill-fated GLBTA meeting. But then he talks about Travis, and his own Thanksgiving, and he knows things are more complicated than he wants them to be.
Because he wants Kurt. He wants to fix it, to go back to Berkeley in three weeks and be able to say that his boyfriend goes to Yale. But he’s not sure that either of them is in a place to do it. Because they’re not those boys from August anymore, and they’ve missed so much.
Dave knows that Kurt can see it, too, because of the way his face has gone guarded and his shoulders have tensed a little. Dave’s too scared to ask what they’ve been dancing around, and is a little relieved when Kurt finally grinds the question out.
“Are we too late for each other?”
Dave kind-of tugs at his hair. “I don’t know.” Coward.
“What do we do now?”
Take a risk. Again. “When do you go back?”
“January term starts on the third. So I’ll leave on the second to drive back.”
“Then give me two weeks.”
“Why? So I can let myself love you and have you break my heart again?”
“No. Look. We try it out. And then we talk. Actually talk about it, which is what we should have done in the summer, but we were stupid.”
“And young.”
Dave looks at Kurt then, really looks hard, and he knows that Kurt is right. They were babies in August, and maybe they just dealt with everything the best way they knew how. Which, admittedly, was probably the worst possible way. But that’s done, and Dave can’t take it back as much as he wants to. What he can do is push a little harder and get Kurt to agree to the two weeks, because Dave thinks they need it. For no other reason than to say goodbye.
“Two weeks. Please, Kurt. You can walk away whenever you want.” Because I owe him that much, at least.
Kurt slumps in his chair, and Dave can tell that he’s thinking about getting up right then and walking away, so he says the first thing that comes into his head. “You told me this wasn’t supposed to be easy. Fight for it with me. Or try, at least.”
“Two weeks. And no strings?”
Dave sets his hands square on the table. “No strings. If we decide to keep going, we’ll figure things out. If we decide to let it go, we let it go. I promise.”
Kurt reaches out then, slides his hand over Dave’s. His eyes are dark and sad.
“The one thing I want is the one thing you can’t promise.”
Dave swallows and turns his hand over to squeeze Kurt’s before he asks “what’s that?”
“That you won’t break my heart again.”
Dave lets a hint of anger show through his words. “You broke mine too, you know.”
*****
Kurt gives Dave his two weeks. Of course, because it’s Christmas and there are obligations surrounding family and friends, they mostly talk and text late at night. Dave comes to the open house at Kurt’s on the 23rd, arriving late and lingering until the adults have all left and it’s just the Glee kids down in the basement where they can play music and dance and catch up. Because Kurt is learning that they’ve all been distant from each other, and none of them have had an easy time making the transition. Mercedes is full of apologies for not calling or emailing, but Kurt could repeat the same apologies for the same reasons: it was easier to try and settle in than to relive the things that are gone now. But it feels so good to see everyone, and to feed off the energy that only comes from years of being a family, Kurt knows he won’t make the same mistake come spring semester. As the crowd trickles out close to midnight, they make whispered promises to get together before everyone heads back after the New Year; Rachel even offers her dads’ Oscar room, which makes Santana roll her eyes, but they all nod in agreement. Finn stumbles up to bed after Kurt closes the door behind Quinn and Tina, and Kurt finds himself very alone with Dave in his very dark living room.
God, how he wants to take him up to his room. But he’s being careful, trying to protect his heart, so he lingers in the entryway and presses himself against Dave and kisses him. It’s gentle, like getting to know each other again, but it still sends tingles down to Kurt’s toes. And that makes him pull away, because even though he’s agreed to the two weeks, he’s still so torn about Toby, and if he lets himself feel too much then he won’t be able to let things go. His head screams at him every day to let things go, but he can’t. Not yet. So he kisses Dave again, and whispers gently drive safe and call you tomorrow and goodnight before ushering him out the door. The only words Kurt doesn’t say are the ones that hammer at him all the time. Not I love you. Kurt can’t help but think he may never say them to Dave again, because if he does he’ll be giving up his heart and he’ll never get it back.
*****
Burt’s glad that the kids are gone. Carole’s been sleeping for over an hour, but she worked the early shift so she’d be home for the open house; she was all but asleep on her feet when he finally dragged her from the dishes. But he’s been shifting in bed, unable to relax until he heard the front door finally squeak closed and the gentle sounds of the boys moving around upstairs. He slips out from under the blankets and pads to the kitchen, where he fumbles in the dark for a glass on the drain board. When he opens the refrigerator for the orange juice, he catches a shadow out of the corner of his eye and jumps. Then his eyes focus and he sees that it’s Kurt. He takes the juice out and flips on the overhead light.
“You okay, kiddo?” He’s been worried. Kurt got home looking ragged and he’s not looking much better for being home. He’s been silent and more than a little withdrawn, but Burt also knows that the kid will damn well talk when he’s ready.
Sitting in the dark somewhere beside his room is usually an indicator that he’s ready.
“No. I’m not okay.”
“Dave?” Burt pulls out the chair opposite Kurt, and pours half a glass of juice. Feels how little is left in the carton and decides to top the glass off because Carole will only scold him if he puts no better than three or four sips worth back in the fridge.
Kurt waves his hand vaguely. “Among other things.”
“Wanna talk?”
“No.”
Burt looks across the table, and raises an eyebrow. Damn if his kid isn’t stubborn. He watches Kurt shift, and finally settle with his elbows up on the table.
“Okay. If you want to hear about my boy troubles.”
But thinks it’s a lot more than boy troubles, but he doesn’t push. “I just hate to see you hurting like this.”
And that’s clearly the opening Kurt needed, because then stories are just falling out of his mouth. It feels to Burt like Pennsylvania again, just going along for the ride while Kurt tells all his secrets. It’s always been this way between them, open and easy when they’re alone in the dark. He knows Carole and Finn have been good for them, love them, and have taken on some confessional duties. But Burt also knows that the hard stuff, the scary stuff, will always be for the two of them alone.
When Kurt’s all talked out, Burt sees it all clearly, even if Kurt can’t. He knew school was a big adjustment, he just hadn’t realized how much Kurt had been hurting. But he’s glad that there are people looking out for him, that professor he talked about all the time on the phone, and Sara and Toby. It’s everything with Dave that has them both worked up, so Burt decides it’s time for some warm milk. If nothing else, he needs the activity to sort out what to say.
It helps, barely.
When he’s emptied the pot into two mugs, and added vanilla to both and a sprinkle of cinnamon to Kurt’s, he thinks he might be ready to discuss it rationally.
“Okay.” Burt breathes deeply as he sets Kurt’s mug on the table. “Let me make sure I understand all of this. You’re kind of back with Dave, but Toby is interested. And you’re interested in him, too.”
“Yeah.”
“But Toby won’t make a move until you settle things with Dave.”
“Right.”
“And what exactly do you feel for Dave?”
“I don’t know.” Burt can see tears welling up in Kurt’s eyes. “It’s all jumbled. I mean, I loved him. But I’m not the same kid who loved him. It’s been a really hard fall, and I guess I’m a little bitter, and I hate him sometimes. And myself.”
“Why?”
“Because we were fine as friends, but we had to go and mess it up with love. And now I can’t have my friend back and I’m not sure if taking my boyfriend back is a good idea.”
“Why isn’t it a good idea?”
“Because we’re still kids. Because we go to school on opposite coasts and until you found us kissing in the driveway we hadn’t spoken in almost four months. We don’t even know each other anymore, and two weeks isn’t enough time.”
“So you’re scared.”
Kurt swallows a sip of milk and nods. “Terrified, more like it.”
“Of what?” This is how it works with Kurt. Burt has to draw every word out, force him to reason out every possible action and reaction, all because his stubborn, amazing, wonderful boy feels too much and jumps in with his heart.
“Of the possibility that Dave is the real deal, that we’re meant to be together. Because if it’s true, and I let him go, I may never have it again.”
“But what if he’s not the one for you? What if it’s Toby or some other boy you haven’t even met yet?”
“That’s what Dave said back in the summer. He also said that if we were meant to be, we’d find our way back together someday.”
Well. It was idealistic, maybe, but there was some small truth to Dave’s theory. “He’s not totally wrong, Kurt. But you’re the only one who can make that decision. What do you want to do? What does your gut say?”
Kurt is silent, staring into his mug. It’s nights like these when Burt wishes he could just fix things for Kurt, make them easier or something. Keep him from getting his heart broken over and over again, because Burt isn’t sure how many more bounce-backs Kurt has left. But that’s not the way things have ever been for the two of them. When Kurt finally looks up, his eyes are pained but clear.
“I think I have to walk away.”
And Burt’s heart breaks for his boy.
They’re still sitting at the kitchen table, silent over now-cold mugs of milk, when Carole gets up for work before sunrise.
*****
Dave had made plans for New Year’s Eve. Granted that they were vague and involved driving to Columbus for First Night and fireworks and a hotel on the road somewhere. But then his dad announced that he’d be out for the evening, so Dave thought maybe he’d tell Kurt to pick up a movie and they’d order Chinese and stay in. But when he opens his front door to Kurt, all his plans go out the window. Because Kurt looks like hell.
“I’m not going to be able to do this.”
Oh. “Do what?” Dave’s voice is trapped, his hands trembling. He pulls Kurt into the living room and sits next to him on the couch.
“Any of this. I can’t be your boyfriend, Dave. I can’t have sex with you. Because it doesn’t matter what your plans for the night were, we both know that’s what was going to happen.”
“I know.”
“You know what?”
“That you can’t be my boyfriend. Because I don’t think I can be yours either. I want to.” He doesn’t fight it, he just lets the tears that have been on the edge of his eyes for the better part of the week fall into his lap. “God, Kurt. I want to be your boyfriend, because I still fucking love you. But it’s hurting us both. And I can’t do that to you. Or to myself.”
“I think . . .” Dave can hear sadness in Kurt’s voice, and can feel him give in to something. “I still love you, too. I just. I love myself more, and you’re killing me. I think you were right, what you said when we started this. That if we’re meant to be we’ll find each other again.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“I don’t know. But I have think so, or else I can’t let go.”
They sit, Kurt with his head on Dave’s shoulder, for a lifetime. Kurt finally breaks the silence with a whisper.
“What do we do now?”
“What do you want to do now?” Dave deflects, because he doesn’t want Kurt to leave yet, but he has no right to ask anything of him now.
Kurt leans a little harder against Dave’s side, and touches Dave’s hand with a tentative finger.
“Would it be wrong if I asked you to take me to bed? I kind of . . . I guess. I just.”
“Speak, K.”
When he does, his voice is strong again. “I just assumed you’d be my first. Please.”
Dave can’t say no, because Kurt’s never been the one doing the asking.
*****
Kurt wants this, trusts Dave or he wouldn’t be doing it. But he’s scared, and he can tell that Dave is too. He allows the fleeting idea that maybe this isn’t the right thing to pass across his consciousness, but it disappears as quickly as it came because Kurt knows that Dave’s the only person for this. Kurt also thinks it should matter that they’ve just decided to go their separate ways, but that doesn’t seem important either. Not when Dave is solid and warm against him, or when his hands are flush against Dave’s back, pulling him closer. Nothing is important anymore except for the sensations of skin and teeth and mouths and hands. They are careful with each other; the gentleness that Kurt has long seen peeking out in Dave’s more vulnerable moments is on full display, and there are brief seconds of glances and touches and breaths when Kurt thinks he could fall for a third time.
All the pamphlets in the world could not have prepared Kurt for the way it feels, having Dave inside him. He feels whole and safe and loved, and they kiss through tears and hold each other until they both stop trembling. But when Dave’s breathing has shallowed out into sleep and Kurt is staring at the ceiling, he thinks that has never felt so alone.
*****
Carole sends Burt to bed after they watch the ball drop because he’s been dozing for the better part of an hour anyway, and she doesn’t have to work in the morning so she’ll wait up for the boys. Finn’s out with Sam and Puck; she doesn’t expect him back for a while. Kurt was vague about his plans, but Carole is pretty sure he was going to finish things with Dave.
They had been good for each other, last year. But she wants so much more for Kurt. He deserves someone who loves him, and who he can love, with his whole heart. Not long distance, and not with conditions. At least not now, when he’s still so young and really still figuring himself out.
So she’ll wait up, because it doesn’t matter how right the decision is. Kurt’s still going to be hurting when he gets home. He’s going to need a mom.
*****
The living room light is on when Kurt pulls into the driveway, and he thinks about sneaking in the back so he doesn’t have to deal with his dad. But it’s late, and Finn’s car isn’t back either, so the light is probably just so neither of them walk into the coffee table or anything. He moves quietly, because he doesn’t want to wake his dad and Carole, but as soon as he opens the door he sees Carole, curled up on the couch with a cup of tea and a book.
He holds up his hand in a casual wave, tells Carole “Happy New Year,” and starts up the stairs before Carole calls out to him.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” And it would have been, except his voice cracks in betrayal and he’s leaning against the banister, and the tears are coming now, fast and furious. He doesn’t even blink before Carole is there next to him on the stairs, smoothing his hair and rubbing soothing circles on his back and whispering to him that everything’s going to be okay.
“I made a mistake,” he finally stutters.
“Breaking it off?”
“No. Not that.”
“Oh. You . . .”
“I slept with him. I mean, I always thought he’d be my first, and I wanted it that way. I asked him to.”
“What makes you think it was a mistake?”
“I felt so alone after. Like this big, wonderful, incredible thing had just happened, and I should feel more than that, right?”
“Oh, honey.” Carole’s words are soft in his ear. “That doesn’t mean it was a mistake. It’s new. You’re still learning what you need and want from your partner. It will get better. The first time is never perfect, even though everyone thinks it should be.”
“I didn’t expect perfection. I just expected to feel like I mattered after.”
He’s crying again, because he’s been holding on to what his dad told him about sex being a way to feel close to another person. And he’s so far away from Dave now, he doesn’t know what to do. Maybe there’s nothing left to do except keep going.
But not right now. Now he lets Carole be his mom.
*****
Dave’s room is cool and dark, and his bed is empty. The clock on his dresser reads close to 2 am, and Kurt is gone. Gone for the night, gone for good. Dave knows that sex was their goodbye, but he can’t help the tiny ache in his chest he felt when he woke up and realized that Kurt had left without a word. He smothers it down, locks it away. The choice has been made, and he can’t take any of it back. All he can do is move forward.
He wanders his empty house, and finally settles on the couch with CNN to watch the West Coast ring in 2013. When the ball drops in San Francisco, Dave pulls his phone out and texts Travis.
It’s done with Kurt.
Bare seconds pass before his phone is lit up with a reply.
Okay. You okay?
Dave thinks about lying, but his hands betray him. No.
I’m sorry. Want to talk?
Yes. No.
You know where to find me if you do.
Indeed. Thanks. C U when we get back?
You know it.
Dave falls asleep on the couch, lulled by 24-hour news and surprising sadness.
*****
Kurt is the first of the gang to leave. He’s got a cooler with snacks and drinks, and directions to pick Sara up in Pittsburgh. He docks his iPod and sings along to the love songs that always make him cry. When Sara joins him, he switches to Broadway. And when they pull up in front of Calhoun that night, he has to blink twice to make sure he’s seeing right. He smiles, and his heartbeat speeds up a little bit.
Toby is waiting.
Kurt hears Carole’s voice in his head, reminding him that it’s okay to take a chance.
He goes into Toby’s arms willingly, and has to stifle a tiny gasp of surprise at the sudden rightness of things.
Maybe what he really needed was right in front of him the whole time.
*****
It’s raining in San Francisco. Dave sits with his head against the cool window of the BART train as it winds through the city and up into Berkeley. He takes in his adopted city with new eyes, because there’s nothing tying him to Lima anymore. He needs a fresh start.
He’s walking from the BART station, wheeling his suitcase behind him and still two blocks from his dorm, when his phone buzzes in his pocket.
U back yet? Travis.
Walking right now.
I’ll meet you.
Dave will deny it later, but he walks a little faster. When he finds Travis, when he hears him say hey, baby all soft and slow, Dave is falling fast.
This time he doesn’t fight it.
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Author's Note: Okay, loyal readers (you know who you are)... endgame here is still Kurtofsky. Just hang with me, please, through two more parts. I think you're going to like where this is going to end up.