Fic: Would You Lie With Me and Just Forget the World
Title: Would You Lie With Me and Just Forget the World
Author: knittycat99
Rating: R for mild language
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Kurt/Karofsky, with appearances by Burt, Carole, and my fictional creations of Sara and her family, John, Thomas, and Dave's mother
Genre: romance/friendship
Spoilers: nope
Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from anything Glee
Author Notes: The 19th in my Seasons Change Verse. Previous installments can be found HERE. I was planning on one more chapter after this one, but I'm thinking now that it's going to take at least two. I don't know when my next update will be, as today is the last day of my vacation. I'm hoping on a week's turnaround.
Summary: Graduation, family, plans, and news.
Word Count: 2, 872
Dave jumps headlong into his job search once break is over. He’d love to work at the school that started this whole thing, but he isn’t sure that’s going to happen. So he trolls job sites for Denver and the two large public school districts adjacent to it, as well as every private school he can find, and applies for every secondary math teacher opening he sees. He also applies for sub pools, because he’s seen at his own school that sometimes a sub is in the right place at the right time and lucks into an opening mid-year. He does all he can, and when he can’t do anymore he just waits.
Dave fucking hates waiting.
He hates the way his spring is turning into nothing but waiting . . . for a job, to find out whether Ms. Fancy-Pants Publisher Lady is going to come through for his boy (especially after he had to go down to New York twice to meet with her), to graduate. To move on and start a life with Kurt.
Surprisingly, the waiting makes the spring pass pretty fast.
Dave tries and tries to make a trip to Kurt’s graduation work, even though they’ve already decided that the logistics and obscene expense of cross-country graduations five days apart is absolutely insane. Instead, he watches the live stream from his dorm room, and texts Kurt in congratulations the instant his name is called. His phone rings minutes later, and Dave can hear voices and clapping in the background.
“I got Summa!” Kurt is almost yelling in his ear.
“Your project? John told you and I told you. Congratulations, baby.”
“I didn’t believe it until I read it in the program.”
“I’m so proud of you. So proud.” Dave is a little lost in the thrill of it, murmuring endearments into the phone. He knows how hard these four years have been for Kurt; they’ve talked about it, open and honest and no lies, at great length. Dave knows now that there were times Kurt felt so apart and alone, times when he almost didn’t push through, and he thinks as he listens to celebrations large and small that Kurt deserves this bright and shining moment of brilliant success. It’s been a long time coming to him.
*****
Burt never thought he would ever be as proud of Kurt as he had been watching him grow up strong and proud and defiant, bucking against the confines of life in Lima. But when he hears his boy’s name called, hears the announcer recognize Kurt’s project or thesis or whatever as Summa Cum Laude, Burt thinks he might burst. There is scattered applause, and Burt shouts over the crowd like he did at that long-ago Friday night football game. That’s my boy. It’s different, now. They are different, now.
It’s been a long road, watching Kurt get here. It’s hurt Burt, more than he would ever tell anyone, because unlike high school Burt hasn’t been able to help Kurt with this part of growing up; instead, he’s had to sit back and let Kurt navigate Dave and the other boys and school and everything by himself. Kurt has always been resilient, and Burt’s always known that Kurt would use every ounce of bounce-back to turn his life into something incredible. Burt’s a little unsure of this whole publishing thing; hell, he’s never even read a word of Kurt’s writing. He’s especially unsure about the whole moving to Denver with Dave thing, because granted that Dave has made Kurt incredibly happy at times, but he’s also made Kurt heart-breakingly miserable. But all of it, the writing and the maybe someday book thing, and Dave, is making Kurt happy. So Burt figures he just needs to roll with it.
They all go out after the ceremony, Burt and Carole, Kurt and his friend Sara, and Sara’s parents, and Kurt’s advisor John and his . . . husband. Thomas, Burt’s pretty sure. They seem like nice people, all of them, and Burt’s glad that Kurt has had Sara as a constant in his life. The food is good and plentiful, and Burt raises his beer in toast to the kids, who collapse in child-like giggles from a combination of exhaustion and excitement. Sara’s father smiles at Burt across the table, and Burt thinks that maybe he’s another dad who’s working on watching his baby grow up, too. They linger over coffee long after dessert plates have been scraped clean, until Kurt clears his throat and pulls a small wrapped package out from under his chair. He looks nervous, and Burt catches Kurt’s glance over to John, and John’s imperceptible nod of approval.
“I’ve been writing since freshman year. The only people who’ve seen my stuff are John and my boyfriend. It’s time for my family to see it, too.” He hands the package over to Burt, who hands it to Carole. She undoes the paper carefully, and runs her hands over the thick blue paper on the cover.
Nothing and Everything After
by
Kurt Hummel
Creative Writing Concentration, Class of 2016
Advisor: J. Andrews
“Your project.” Carole sighs up at Kurt, flipping to the first page. Burt peers over his shoulder and reads the dedication, and then takes in Kurt’s firm writing, which covers the bottom half of the page in blue ink.
Dad and Carole-
Thank you for everything. For loving me, and accepting me, and teaching me to be brave and strong and happy. And for teaching me how love. I’m so very lucky to have you both as my parents.
I’m incredibly proud of this piece. It was hard to write, sometimes, and I don’t doubt that there are parts that will be hard for you to read. But it’s the culmination of everything I’ve learned about art and words and most importantly myself, over these past years.
Your unconditional love and support mean more than I can ever have the words to express.
Love,
Kurt
Burt knows it’s going to be good; after all, that publishing lady is interested in it, and it got Kurt highest honors. He resists the urge to turn the page, and keep turning pages, until he’s drunk in this most important thing Kurt has ever created, but that will have to wait. The waitress is getting antsy, and there’s still packing to do after all.
When they’ve settled the check and wandered, amoeba-like, into the parking lot, Burt steers Carole back towards the car so that Kurt can say his goodbyes to John and Thomas in private. He watches the three of them, talking and hugging, and Thomas ruffling Kurt’s hair like Burt used to back when Kurt was in high school, and he’s struck by the sudden realization that these men have been like fathers to Kurt in addition to being his teachers. He crosses the pavement to the trio in five long strides, and pulls up next to Kurt. He looks first John and then Thomas square in the eyes.
“Thank you for taking care of my boy. For opening your home to him, and-” Burt’s voice breaks, betrays him, but John steps closer.
“Thank you for letting us borrow him. He’s remarkable, you know, and a real credit to you.”
“I know. Not everyone sees him, though.” That might be the hardest thing for Burt; he knows how special Kurt is, but most people can’t see beyond gay to get closer.
John’s voice is confident then, when he looks back at Burt. “They will.”
*****
Dave’s mother comes out to Berkeley for his graduation. She leaves the girls with Richard because they still have school, and Dave is a little grateful to have her all to himself. It means that he can show her his city, and they can have some time together before he heads off to start the next part of his life.
He kind of wishes his father were there, but they don’t know each other any more, and sometimes it hurts too much to deal with all the silence between them. Dave isn’t even going to Columbus after graduation; Kurt managed to score them an admittedly miniscule one-bedroom apartment a few blocks from the heart of downtown Denver. It’s nothing fancy, but they can afford it. Dave’s mom and Kurt’s parents chipped in and paid the first, last, and security deposit as a joint graduation gift, and they get their keys June 1st. Dave’s got a job lined up, teaching at a summer enrichment program. Kurt hasn’t found work yet, but Dave knows it’s only a matter of time. He always lands on his feet, that boy.
Graduation day is typical Bay Area, a little cool until the haze burns off. Dave’s hot in his black gown, and the stupid tassel on his silly hat keeps brushing against his cheek and it makes his skin crawl. There are speeches, endless numbers of them, and it seems to take forever to get to his name; he supposes he’s lucky that he’s only a K. It would really suck to have to sit through three hours of name-calling to get to the Z’s. But they do call his name, and he crosses the stage and takes his empty diploma case and starts walking back to his seat. He isn’t even three feet from the stage when he can hear his phone ringing in his pocket. He can’t get to it because the stupid gown is in his way, so he has to wait until he’s back at his seat. One missed call from Kurt, no voicemail. But he has three texts.
Congratulations, baby! I’m so proud of you.
Sorry you couldn’t get to your phone. I just wanted to tell you I love you.
Call me later, I have good news.
Dave’s far enough back on the field that he dials Kurt back, but all he gets is voicemail. He ends the call and sends his own text.
Dude. This sucks. You’re it.
Seconds later, his phone is buzzing.
Patience. I’ll talk with you after the ceremony.
Damn. Now Dave’s more anxious than he had been before this whole thing started, and he wants to bolt. But he thinks of the way Kurt would press his leg against Dave’s to calm him, or squeeze his hand, and he lets his breathing relax. He can sit here and wait, and he’ll call Kurt as soon as he’s out of this damn gown and dumb hat.
Except that he doesn’t have to.
When he emerges from the field house, looking for his mom, something draws his gaze over to one of the benches that ring the athletic complex. Kurt, rumpled and sleepy-eyed and the best damn thing Dave has ever seen.
He’s got Kurt in his arms before he realizes it. “We promised we wouldn’t-”
Kurt mumbles against Dave’s shoulder. “I know. But I got home Monday night and I couldn’t sleep because I wanted to see you. So I drove.”
“For three days?”
“Three and a half. I’ve only been here since the middle of the F’s.”
“Okay.” Dave rubs at his face. “You know you’re crazy, right?”
“Probably.”
“So your good news?”
“Yes. My good news. Later. This is your day. I don’t want to make your day about me.”
“What if I want to make my day about you?”
“Later. I need some sleep before I fall over.”
“My mom and I were going to go out, kind of spend the afternoon together. If you want, you can sleep in my room, and then meet us for dinner?”
“Good. That would be good.” Kurt nods into the area behind Dave, who turns and sees his mom, smiling at the both of them. She hugs Dave, first, tightly, and whispers how proud she is of him. Then she folds Kurt into her arms, and thought Dave tries not to listen too hard, he hears her say thank you for coming back to David before she releases him. Dave knows she isn’t talking just about graduation.
Dave keeps waiting for Kurt’s good news, through the afternoon with his mother, and the three of them eating Thai food, and he and Kurt walking hand-in-hand back to Dave’s dorm after dropping his mom at her hotel. He waits for it through a shower, and sleepy, tender sex. It isn’t until he’s got Kurt wrapped, boneless, in his arms when he hears Kurt’s disbelieving whisper.
“I was in Utah when she called.”
“Who?”
“Ms. Butler. They want it.”
“Your book?”
“Yes.”
Kurt seems a little detached from everything, like he still can’t fathom that this is happening to him, so Dave just holds him tighter and strokes his hair until he falls asleep.
*****
The house is quiet. Burt’s gotten used to it, since the boys left. Finn’s pretty much in Columbus full time anymore; he’s still got a semester of school left, and a summer class to finish so he’ll be able to do his student teaching in the fall. Burt was hoping to have a little more time with Kurt before Denver, but he got some kind of a wild hare about driving out to San Francisco for Dave’s graduation. Burt fought him tooth and nail, but Carole just put her hand on his arm and told him let go.
So he did.
That doesn’t mean that he isn’t secretly worried, that he doesn’t carry a nagging ache in his chest for the better part of the week at the garage. Kurt calls every time he stops to rest, from outside of Chicago and halfway through Nebraska, and Wyoming and Utah and Nevada. The last call comes Friday morning, and Burt can hear voices and clapping and cheering in the background, and he knows that Kurt is there, safe. Dave will take care of him now, Burt has to trust that or he won’t ever be okay with any of this.
“I’m here, Dad.” Kurt’s voice sounds shaky, like he’s too tired and too caffeinated. But there’s something else there, something unsure and a little proud and so very young.
“What’s up, kiddo?”
“They’re going to publish it.”
The project. “Your project?”
“Yes. With some of my short stories, in a collection or something.”
“Oh, Kurt.” Burt still hasn’t read it. Carole put it on the coffee table when they got home from New Haven, and it’s been sitting there waiting, waiting for something important. Waiting for now. “I’m so proud of you, K. Do you know that?”
It sounds from faint sniffles like Kurt is crying. “I know.”
“Good.” There’s so much Burt wants to say, so much he wants Kurt to know, but he thinks maybe they’re both okay with letting it all be unsaid, because they both know it all already. That’s just the way it is with them. Burt sighs into the phone. “Go see your boyfriend graduate. Give him my best. And Kurt?”
“Yeah, Dad?”
“I love you.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
Burt carries that call with him through the rest of the day at work, through picking up Chinese for dinner and into the quiet of the life he and Carole have created for themselves. They eat, lazy, on the couch. When they’re done, and the leftovers squirreled away in the fridge, when they both have a beer, Burt waves his hand at Kurt’s project.
“They’re going to publish it,” he says, out of nowhere.
“I guess we should read it, then.” Carole has always known how to handle the Hummel men.
“We should.”
“Do you want me to read it aloud?”
Burt nods, because he’s nervous and excited and his brain is holding every coherent thought hostage.
Carole picks it up and opens it, past the dedication and Kurt’s note to them, to the first page. Burt’s crying silently before she finishes the first sentence, but he can’t stop listening.
They end up taking turns reading, because it’s beautiful and scary and so real that Burt can see every detail, and it’s so much what their lives could have been like. He had no freaking idea that Kurt could do this, spin words into pictures and squeeze your heart to breaking. It leaves Burt a little breathless, knowing that about his son.
Carole’s voice drifts into the half-dark living room as she works her way down the last page. She pauses at the end of a paragraph and sighs before picking up again.
Morning in the city is Jemmy’s favorite time, those brief moments when the sky is still pink-tinged night and the day is nothing but possibility. It’s freedom, and love, and learning to trust, and it’s his gift to himself.
Jemmy warms his hands on his coffee mug, lets his breath fog against the cold glass of the window. He can hear Douglas stirring in the bedroom. The sun will be up in mere breaths of time, and the silence will be gone.
Until tomorrow. Always tomorrow.
Carole sets the volume back on the coffee table and leans against Burt.
“He’s really very good.” Carole finally manages to gather her thoughts. Burt just nods. When he speaks, finally, into the dark of the night, his throat is full.
“Read it again.”