Fic: An Ideal Shelf Life, 2/6
Title: An Ideal Shelf Life, 2/6 (for LJ posting purposes)
Author:knittycat99
Rating: NC-17
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Kurt/Puck
Genre: AU, romance
Spoilers: all aired episodes, to be safe
Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from Glee. Song lyrics are property of Sting. Dialogue from The American President belongs to Aaron Sorkin.
Author Notes: Written for this prompt in the Writing The Fic I Didn't Write Challenge. First, massive amounts of thanks and lifelong adoration for my awesome friend and beta, nubianamy, who spent many nights watching me write this in googledocs, asking questions and challenging my plot, and picking up the innumerable times I misspelled cappuccino. She also provided musical inspiration in the forms of Eva Cassidy, Adam Lambert, and Five For Fighting. I couldn't have done this without her! Second, I've seriously upended the Glee timeline here to make it fit my purposes. As a result, the actions and attitudes of my characters reflect the time and places where they grew up. For more information on the issues and institutions I talk about, follow these links: Senate Page Program, Servicemembers Legal Defense Network, and Don't Ask Don't Tell (this link is to wikipedia, but there is also a really good history at the SLDN page, I just didn't want to link you to the same page twice).
Summary: Two quietly out of the closet White House staffers, years of unresolved romantic tension, mid-term elections, and a major GLBT social issue.
Word Count: 31,926
Part I: September
Labor Day, 2010
The Rainbow Politico Blog
Hello, dear readers. We here at Rainbow Politico, and pretty much all of you, know that the worst kept secret in Democratic politics inside the Beltway is that a certain young White House Deputy Chief of Staff and the President’s top speechwriter are both members of the tribe. But are the other rumors true as well? Is there romance blooming in the White House? We’ll do some digging, and keep you updated.
As always,
Rainbow Politico
Kurt knew he should have just gone back to his apartment, but the pull of being able to do actual work was just too strong. The President and most of the rest of the staff wouldn’t be back to work until Tuesday morning, and Kurt still had most of the Don’t Ask Don’t Tell speech to write before the President’s meeting with the Servicemember’s Legal Defense Network on Thursday. So he directed the cab driver to the side staff entrance.
The halls were quiet, and the junior staff cubicles and bullpens were dark and empty. When Kurt rounded the corner into the senior staff corridor, the wheels of his suitcase squeaking on the tile, he could see light flooding out from a single open door. He let his feet carry him a fraction faster, and he set his suitcase outside the door before slipping into the bright sanctuary of Noah’s office. And found Noah, head on his crossed arms, sound asleep.
Kurt dropped into one of the office chairs and leaned over to run a light finger over the back of Noah’s neck, and couldn’t help but laugh lightly as Noah squirmed in half-sleep and then lifted his head to glare at Kurt with sleepy eyes.
“You suck.” Noah’s voice was gravelly.
“What’s the matter? Couldn’t sleep outside of these walls?”
Noah rubbed at his eyes. “Can’t sleep anywhere.” He gestured to the stack of official reports and emails polling data that was cluttering the parts of his desk that weren’t taken up by his computer. “Too much work. And it was nice and quiet here this weekend. Speaking of, how was Lima?”
Kurt leaned back in his chair. “The usual. It gets easier, though, going back. I never thought it would. Shows how much I know.”
Noah nodded. “It probably helps that you work here. Everything else seems normal after this.”
Kurt shook his head. “What world do you live in? Nothing seems normal after this.” He put a hand on the top of the stack of papers. “DADT?”
“What else?” Noah ran a hand through his hair. “How’s the speech coming?”
“It’s not. Why else would I be here?”
Noah laughed lightly. “Because you can’t sleep anywhere but your office, either.”
“Yeah.” Kurt sighed. “You’re probably right. But I do need to finish the speech.”
“And I have all of this stuff to deal with.” Noah waved his hand at his desk. “This is going to be a terrible fight. Do you think she knows that?”
“I don’t think she’d have it any other way. She’s been like this since Maryland, always looking for the next big fight.” Kurt sat up in his chair. “I don’t think I would have stayed so long otherwise.”
“Do you want to work? In here, I mean?”
Kurt nodded, and pulled his laptop out of his messenger bag. “I’d like that. A lot.”
They worked in silence. Kurt was always calm and focused when he was near Noah, and he was able to crank out the heart of the speech before he let his hands rest on his keyboard, spent and tired. He looked up at Noah, who was staring at a blank spot on the wall, fat yellow highlighter dangling forgotten from his fingers. Kurt snapped his fingers in Noah’s face, and tried not to laugh when Noah startled and dropped the highlighter.
Kurt saved his work and shut down his laptop. “C’mon, cowboy. I’m taking you to breakfast.”
“Shit. It can’t be breakfast time already. It’s still dark.”
Kurt tucked his laptop back into his bag and stood, stretching his back. “Waffles, Noah. Don’t argue with the man who’s going to buy you waffles.”
“Low blow, K. You know I can’t resist waffles.” He fixed Kurt with a sideways smile, and Kurt felt his stomach flip-flop. He kind of hated the way he still responded to Noah, like he was a love-struck teenager. He especially hated fighting the feelings now, when he felt like he were old enough to know better and when there was too much at risk outside of their own personal lives and no time for the distraction of long-smoldering attraction.
Kurt left his suitcase in his own office while he waited for Noah to close up, and they walked in silence through the ghostly halls. When they emerged into the pre-dawn darkness, the air held the barest promise of fall, and Kurt felt suddenly invigorated. Brazen. He let his hand brush Noah’s so lightly that he wasn’t sure Noah even felt it, not until they reached the 24 hour diner five blocks away and Noah held the door for him, and let his hand linger a moment more than was decent at the small of Kurt’s back as he ushered Kurt inside.
Kurt could still feel the pink on his cheeks as they took seats in a secluded corner booth, and he tried not to look too hard at Noah over the top edge of his menu. Noah caught him looking anyway, and just nodded, and Kurt’s stomach flip-flopped again. What the hell? He was about to say something when the waitress appeared, took their orders for waffles and a shared order of extra crispy bacon, poured them two cups of the strongest coffee that side of the Capital, and disappeared again. He opened his mouth to speak, but Noah just shook his head. His gaze was piercing, and Kurt understood instantly. Not here, not now.
Kurt could barely focus on his waffles. The energy between them was palpable, coursing like a current, and Kurt couldn’t help but wonder why now. He could feel the gentle press of Noah’s leg against his own under the table, and Kurt let his fingers linger an extra few seconds as he pushed the syrup across the table. Noah’s hand against his was warm, like always, and when Kurt caught his eyes in the moment after he pulled away, they were dark pools.
When Kurt had eaten his fill, and Noah had drained his second cup of coffee, Kurt nodded at the door.
“Shall we?” He tried to make his voice light, joking, because he had no idea what to say about anything that was happening, but the words felt buried under an intensity that made Kurt a little uncomfortable.
“Please,” Noah choked out.
Kurt laid down cash for their bill, and once they were out on the street he looked past Noah at the sun peeking its way into the sky. “Let me walk you home?”
“That would be . . . good.”
Kurt let go a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, and turned to follow Noah the half-mile to his apartment. They walked closer than was necessary on empty sidewalks, brushing shoulders from time to time and letting the world come to life around them. Kurt wasn’t in any hurry, so when they reached the end of Noah’s block he turned them both in the direction of the brilliant pinks and oranges lighting the sky over the Washington Monument. He wrapped his arms around Noah from behind, and tucked his chin on Noah’s shoulder.
Noah’s voice was a sigh in his ear. “God, I love this city.”
Shivers echoed down Kurt’s spine. “Me, too.” He took a deep breath, and let it go with a puff of air.
“What?” Noah turned in Kurt’s arms, and Kurt didn’t think. He moved closer rather than away, and put his lips on Noah’s. He half expected Noah to pull away, so he was beyond shocked to feel Noah’s hand, strong on the back of his head, holding him in the kiss. Kurt yielded to the gentle pressure of Noah’s mouth against his, and lost himself.
It felt to Kurt like they’d been there, kissing on the street corner, for a lifetime when Noah finally pulled away. Kurt rested his forehead on Noah’s chest, and felt the gentle rumble of a laugh bubble out of Noah’s chest.
“Christ, K. What the hell took you so long?”
***
Noah wanted to devour Kurt. He wanted to lose himself, turn hands and mouth and all his earthly attention to nothing but Kurt’s breath and touch and body. And then his brain kicked in and urged him to move.
“C’mon.” He grabbed Kurt’s hand and pulled him the rest of the way up the street. He fumbled with his key in the front door of his building, and almost tripped over his own feet as he led Kurt up the two flights of stairs to the apartment. He barely got the door kicked closed before he was tugging at the hem of Kurt’s t-shirt and Kurt was trying in vain to cement their mouths together. There was an awkward dance of limbs, and much fumbling before Noah pulled away and found his voice. “Just stop fucking moving, will you?”
Kurt laughed then, lush and full, and Noah was buried under a wave of oh, god, finally.
Noah could feel the heat in his own eyes when he stared - blatantly stared - at Kurt in a way he hadn’t dared to do in the whole of their history together. His mouth was suddenly dry, and he was full of fourteen years of hopes and fears and wants, but he couldn’t move. He could only stare.
“Are you okay?” Kurt’s words were slightly hushed, almost reverent.
Noah scrubbed at his face with his hand. “Yeah. I just. Why now, Kurt? We’ve been flirting with this forever. And the only other time one of us tried this, you ran on me.”
“It was too much, last time. And I didn’t know if I liked it because of the moment or because it was you.”
Noah inched closer, grabbed for Kurt’s hand and pulled him tight into his arms. “It hasn’t mattered for me. It’s always been you.”
Noah almost couldn’t believe the way Kurt just about came apart at his words. Words, for fuck’s sake. “God, if I’d known I’d get that kind of a response, I would have told you back in high school.”
Kurt shook his head. “I wasn’t ready for you in high school.”
Noah kissed Kurt then, hard and full and overflowing with longing, and he felt the rest of Kurt’s defenses crumble under his mouth and hands.
They moved together in a haze, somehow managing buttons and zippers and the agonizing divestment of shoes and clothes without tripping or even moving more than fractions of an inch apart. Kurt’s skin was hot under Noah’s hands, and he could feel Kurt’s pulse beating under his lips when he kissed the side of Kurt’s neck. “So worth the wait,” he mumbled half to himself as Kurt’s hands fluttered against his shoulders.
“Me, too.” It sounded like Kurt was having problems connecting his brain to his mouth.
“Lose all your words, Mr. Speechwriter?”
“Shut. Up. Less talking, more of - oh, holy shit!” Kurt cried out as Noah ran his thumb over the head of Kurt’s cock.
“More of that?” Noah laughed wickedly, feeling very pleased with himself and not unlike a teenage boy in that moment. I guess, in some ways, we are still that way with each other, he thought in the moment before Kurt surged forward and pushed him back onto the bed with a thump and a squeak.
“More. Of everything. Please.”
“As you wish.”
***
Kurt couldn’t get enough. There simply wasn’t enough contact, not enough kissing or touching or skin against skin to satisfy the overwhelming urge he had to just fall into Noah and never look back. He felt like he was a little bit outside of himself as he trailed wet, warm kisses down the side of Noah’s neck and across his chest. He could feel Noah’s hands, busy on his back and across his chest, leaving sparking trails of electricity everywhere they touched.
Kurt felt like he was on fire, like he was going to explode from all of the years of untapped longing.
“I want you. God, Noah.” He felt Noah shiver beneath him, come alive at his words, hungry and brave and full of demands. Some of them were silent, the way his eyes burned when he looked at Kurt and the way his body moved, always forward and on the edge of demanding. And then there were his own words, whispered into Kurt’s hair and skin and the cool empty of the air around them: love you and want you and I never thought . ... Words that made Kurt’s eyes prick with tears even before Noah was writhing and open beneath him, words made almost filthy by the press and surge of their bodies together and turned holy in the echoing aftermath of their collective release.
Kurt’s tears were genuine then, full and flowing and mixing with the sweat cooling on both of their skins. He rested a trembling hand on Noah’s chest and sighed into the bright of the new day.
“There’s no going back now, is there?” His voice felt wrecked.
“No.” Kurt felt Noah’s head shake, heard his rough sigh. “We couldn’t have picked a worse time for this, you know.”
“Nobody ever claimed that our timing was good.” Kurt shivered as Noah traced circles on his back.
“True. But. I think . . .” Noah let his voice drift off, like he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say.
But Kurt knew. “You think we should keep this a secret?”
“If we can. With DADT, and the mid-terms coming up? If this got out, the whole train could derail.”
Kurt knew Noah was right. Even though they were both quietly out, and had been since the campaign, the reality of two of the President’s senior staff being gay and being together was a different proposition entirely. It wasn’t a laughing matter, any of it, but Kurt was still a little giddy from endorphins, so he giggled into Noah’s chest. “It’s a good plan, baby, but there might be a problem.”
Noah’s voice was husky again in his ear. “Yeah? What’s that?”
“I don’t think I’m going to be able to keep my hands off you.”
***
Kurt was late for work. He’d overslept his alarm, and instead of the three hours of quiet writing he’d planned on he was skittering through the staff gate with barely 5 minutes to spare before Senior Staff. He dropped his stuff in his office and began navigating the maze of corridors and offices on the way to the Chief of Staff’s office. He was rounding the last corner into the reception area when Noah sidled up beside him, snaking an arm around his shoulders and dangling a venti Starbucks cup in front of him. Kurt sniffed, and nodded. “Mocha?”
“Still your favorite?” Noah sounded pleased with himself.
“Always. Thank you.” He took the cup and sipped lightly. “How are you this morning?”
Noah leaned in a little closer as they paused just outside the office. “I’m excellent, baby,” he whispered, “and you’re the reason.”
Kurt felt himself blush in the instant that he crossed the threshold, and he untangled himself from Noah’s arm before taking a spot along the far wall. Noah stayed near the door, but Kurt could feel his gaze from across the room.
Chief of Staff Andrea Waters dashed into the office then, shrugging off her coat and bag at the expense of her own Starbucks cup, which splashed a river of coffee over the back of her hand. “Goddamn." She sucked at the burn, and ran her gaze around the room.
“Good weekend?” Her voice was strong, but her eyes were playful. At everyone’s nods, she clapped her hands together. “Great. So. 8 weeks until the midterms. We’ve got the budget -” the room erupted in groans. “I know, I know. We always have the budget. And we have our pet project. Where do we stand?”
“On what?” Press Secretary AJ Hammonds poked her head out from where she was lost behind Deputy Communications Director Lyle Gardner.
Andrea waved her hand around. “Any of it.”
Lyle just scoffed. “The budget is a mess. But I think we can knock enough heads together to actually pass something permanent instead of just another continuing resolution.”
“Excellent. Lyle. You’re on head-knocking duty. Noah?”
“I’m meeting with SLDN leadership and soldiers fighting discharge for most of the week. Next week I’ll start on the Hill. I know we have the party in our pocket on this one. If we can swing enough Republicans to get it out of committee, I think we can get it passed. I’ll have a better idea when I start taking meetings next week, and then we can talk attack strategy.”
Andrea nodded. “Good. Kurt? How’s the speech?”
Kurt took a sip of his mocha before talking. “Pretty much complete. I’ll have it done and polished by the end of the day. Copy to you and the President?”
Andrea nodded. “That would be great. AJ?”
“The summer haze will be gone from the press room today. I can guarantee you they’ll want to know only one thing.” AJ fixed Kurt with a bright smile. “When did Noah and Kurt finally get over themselves and get together?”
Kurt blushed to the roots of his hair. He couldn’t help but laugh as Noah turned around and banged his forehead on the wall. Kurt could hear him muttering son of a bitch under his breath.
“Really?” Andrea was smiling at them both. “Congratulations!”
Kurt heard Noah again, oh my god, this isn’t happening right now.
Lyle rubbed his hands together. “So, Andrea, is anyone left standing in the pool?”
Kurt snapped to attention. “What pool?”
“Oh, god, you guys had a fucking pool?” Noah looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and hide.
“I believe the only one who made it past Election Day was the President.” Andrea was practically bouncing with mirth. She looked at Kurt and Noah in turn. “Who wants to tell her she’s the winner?”
***
Working up the hall from Kurt had been hard enough when they were just friends with attraction. Now that they were sleeping together, Noah found his focus wandering constantly. It wasn’t just the time he spent looking for the telltale movement of Kurt’s form in the hall through the window in his office. It was the before-work coffee exchanges and the late night echoes of Kurt’s soft voice singing along to Broadway ballads and jazz standards on the nights he worked in the office instead of at home.
Tonight the music was anything but gentle. It was guitar riffs and drums and the pounding angst-fest that was Rent. And the sure sign that something was wrong: Kurt wasn’t singing along.
Noah had no idea what had transpired in the hours he was out of the office, up on the Hill managing meetings between discharged gay soldiers and the Senate leadership. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. And Noah didn’t need more not good in his world.
He didn’t knock, just pushed his way into Kurt’s office with an arm extended. “I come bearing peace. Or at least dinner.”
Kurt eyed the bag in his hand. “Please tell me it’s a Spinach pie from that Greek place that puts feta in them?”
Noah nodded. “And baklava.”
“Mm.” Kurt poked in the bag, pulling out grease-stained paper bundles. “I don’t suppose there’s a mocha hiding in here anywhere?”
Noah shook his head. “Not if you’re going to sleep tonight.”
Kurt fixed him with a stare. “I thought we covered this when we were 16. Stress means no sleep.”
Noah pushed the door closed and pulled Kurt to him, holding him gently to his chest. “Baby. The speech was perfect. Why are you stressed?”
Kurt pulled away and reached blindly for his desktop, grappling until he put his hand on a thick, stapled packet. Noah knew before he even looked.
“Fuck. When?”
“Friday morning. 14 days, a Midwest and mountain swing. Stops in key districts.” Kurt let his head drop back to Noah’s shoulder again.
“Will you at least be able to use the same basic speech?” That would make things the tiniest fraction easier.
Kurt nodded slightly. “I think so. Andrea thinks so, at least. But that call is ultimately up to the President.”
“I’m sorry, baby.” Noah held on to Kurt a little tighter for a moment before releasing him. “Let’s eat before it gets cold.”
They ended up sitting on the floor, Kurt nestled into the v of Noah’s extended legs, listening to the end of the Rent soundtrack and sharing the spinach pie, an order of fries, and the honey-sweet nutty layers of baklava. When Kurt had sucked the last honey stickiness off his thumb, he leaned back into Noah’s embrace. “How was your day?”
Noah sighed. Being with Kurt, even something as simple as eating, calmed him more than he’d realized was possible. “Utter shit. I don’t . . .” he paused in frustration, gathered his thoughts, and tried again. “I managed this meeting today, some of the Republican leadership, and three West Point cadets who resigned their commissions. They’re just kids, and they were ready to give their lives for this country, and the leadership just looked at them like they were nothing. Like they were worthless because they either refused to lie or couldn’t change who they love.”
Kurt’s hand was gentle on his arm. “You can’t change being gay.”
“I know that, K. What slays me is that no matter how evolved things appear, there are still people out there who don’t know that.” Noah felt outrage simmering under his skin. “I just want better for them. Those kids. All the soldiers who’ve already lost everything.”
“That’s why we’re all pushing so hard for this, baby. We thought the time was right.” Kurt sounded dejected. “Were we wrong?”
“No. We weren’t wrong. The cadets were kind of stunned, I think. But then, when we were leaving? We got held up in the corridor.” Noah closed his eyes and thought about the navy-suited kid who was loitering around them as they tried to manage a hasty escape from judgment. “There was this page. He kind of reminded me of you. He couldn’t stop looking at me.”
“What did he want?”
“To thank me.” Noah shifted, and Kurt shifted with him.
“For what?”
“For being out. For being someone he could look up to. And there I am, waiting for this elevator with these cadets, and the kid was thanking me.” He ran a hand through his hair in both frustration and exhaustion. “I feel like I’m just treading water.”
Kurt gripped his hand, tight. “Andrea gave you this because she knew you could get it done. We all know you can get it done.” When Noah didn’t respond, Kurt continued. “You doubt yourself too much.”
Noah shook his head. “I dunno, K. I’m not . . . I can’t wow them with words like you can. I’m just me.”
“Exactly. You’re just you. You have a gift for people, baby. They trust you, they believe you. That’s why you’re perfect for this fight. If you tell them that repeal is right, they’ll listen.” Kurt started gathering up the paper wrappers and napkins from their dinner, and Noah stood up, stretched his back, and wandered over to the small display of family pictures on Kurt’s bookshelf.
“Your family doesn’t care?” He’d only met Kurt’s family a handful of times over the years. They were nice people. His dad ran a garage and tire shop, his step-mother was a nurse, and his step-brother, Finn, taught middle school social studies and coached football outside of Columbus.
“What, that I’m gay?” Kurt stuffed the trash into the can under his desk, and came up behind Noah and wrapped his arms around his waist.
“No. But that you’re this pretty public figure, and while you’re not shouting it from the rooftops, you’re not hiding yourself either.” Noah let his head fall back against Kurt’s shoulder and sighed.
He felt Kurt shrug against him. “They’re proud of me. I think my desire for this crazy life is more baffling to them than anything else. But they’re proud of me. I think,” he laughed softly in Noah’s ear, “my dad and Carole are hoping I’ll meet a nice man and settle down and have grandbabies for them. Since Finn is perfectly content in bachelorhood.”
“Well. That says a lot.”
Kurt barely restrained a snort. “Yeah. It says that I apparently ooze marriage potential.”
Noah turned and pulled Kurt into a deep, gentle kiss. “Not with this job, baby.” His breath caught in his throat and he swallowed back the rest of his thought. Let’s talk in six years presumed a lot, the least of which was the President’s re-election in two years and the biggest was Noah’s constant, nagging wonder over whether their relationship could survive six more years of pressure-cooker days and work-filled nights and the endless travel and party politics.
But Kurt seemed to hear his thoughts anyway. He whispered into Noah’s ear, and the hum of his words sent shivers down Noah’s spine. “We waited 14 years, Noah. Six more isn’t going to break us.”
Noah just shook his head in a sea of self-doubt and exhaustion. “It might.”
Kurt just held him tighter. “I won’t let it.”
***
Kurt was bedded down in the back of the campaign bus, stretched awkwardly across two seats with his laptop balanced on his knees. He was supposed to be working on the modifications to the speech for Omaha, but he was really just watching the lights from passing cars flicker in the rain. Every few minutes, he would highlight and edit a line of text, but his heart just wasn’t in the rewrite.
He listened to the junior aides playing cards near the front of the bus. It reminded him of the campaign, and he suddenly felt incredibly weary. He pulled out his phone and dialed Noah’s cell. He picked up on the second ring, and he sounded lost. “Hey, you. Where are you?”
“On the road to Omaha. You?” Kurt leaned his head against the cool glass of the bus window and closed his eyes.
“Um. In the office?” Kurt didn’t like the way Noah’s voice edged up into a question.
“Are you okay?”
I- hold on-” Kurt could hear rustling, and mumbling, and whispers before Noah was back, voice slightly more clear. “Yeah, I’m in the office.”
“Someone was there with you. I can call back.” Kurt didn’t want to, but he would if he had to.
“No, no. Don’t!” Noah was starting to sound frantic.
“What’s going on? It can’t be really bad because the bus is still quiet.”
“It’s bad.” Noah’s voice went flat, disaffected. “But not for anyone else. Just us.”
“You and me us.” It didn’t need to be a question, because Kurt already knew the answer.
“Yeah. An email, this morning. I’ve been dealing with it piecemeal all day. Anonymous, bounced around from server to server over half of Europe, but the cyber guys tracked it back to the Capital. Someone there thinks you and I are fifteen varieties of evil.”
“Any ideas on who?”
“I didn’t think anyone knew, outside of Andrea, AJ, Lyle, and the President.” Kurt could hear the bewilderment in Noah’s voice.
Kurt thought for a moment, about lingering looks in hallways and through open office doors and the handful of times they’d been in mixed company and one or the other of them had to inch away from a leaning shoulder or almost-roaming hand. He remembered the day the reporter from the Chicago Tribune almost caught them in hidden alcove between the press bullpen and the briefing room.
And he winced at the memory of Friday morning before Kurt had left on this trip, when the vice-chairman of the DNC had stumbled upon them on his way to the Oval Office. They were trying to say goodbye as unobtrusively as possible, but in a place where the walls had eyes even an innocent hand on a shoulder had the potential to be too visible. Kurt had seen the way the man looked at them, eyes full of judgment and a hatred Kurt hadn’t expected. He had ducked away from Noah then, ashamed at himself even though he knew the risks of letting their relationship become public.
“The DNC guy,” Kurt began, dropping his voice to a whisper. “You didn’t see the way he looked at us.”
“Who, Crandall?” Noah sounded surprised. “We weren’t doing anything, K.”
“We were doing enough.”
Noah scoffed in his ear. “Yeah, like touching your shoulder means we’re fucking.”
“Noah! For people who hate like that, the fact that we even exist is enough. That we refuse to be closeted makes it even worse. And touching, well.” Kurt tucked his phone into his shoulder and rummaged in his messenger bag for the jumbo-sized bottle of ibuprofen he carried with him. Now he had a headache.
There was silence on the other end of the phone, and Kurt almost thought that the call had been disconnected. But then Noah’s voice reached him through the distance. He was barely whispering. “Hey, K?”
“I’m here, baby. What?”
“I’m going to forward you something I think you’ll want to see. Remember that page?”
“The one from your meeting last week?”
“Uh huh. I can’t- you- you just need to see this. Go read it and call me back when you’re done.”
The line went dead at the same time Kurt’s email notification chimed. The only text from Noah was This is bigger than the DNC guy in front of a series of email headers. The text was brief, intelligent, and clearly concerned.
From: d.hamilton@gmail.com
To: noah.puckerman@whitehouse.gov
Subject: Senator Brennan
Mr. Puckerman:
We met last week at the Capital. I’m the Senate page who talked with you by the elevators. I’m assigned to Senator Brennan, and I think he or one of his staff may have sent you a threatening email. I didn’t witness one being sent, but I’ve heard he and his staff talking about it in the office the past two days.
I don’t know exactly what he knows, or why he hates gay people so much. I do know that he’s the one holding up the repeal bill in committee, but mostly because the other Republicans don’t want to upset him so close to the elections.
Or that’s what I hear, at least.
I thought you might want to know about the email. As for the rest, I hope it helps you win this fight.
Daniel Hamilton
Kurt felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips. Pages were largely invisible, and he didn’t think anyone realized how much they actually saw and heard. This kid was brave.
Kurt hit redial on his phone. He barely waited for Noah’s greeting. “What are you going to do?”
“Ah. I think I’m going to sit on this, for now. Do a little digging. See what I can find out about a lot of things. Like, does Brennan have a connection with Crandall. And, if I can leverage Brennan’s hatred somehow.” Kurt could hear apprehension in Noah’s voice, and he jumped on it.
“You sound . . . I don’t know. Unhappy?”
“I hate playing this damned game. You know, the ‘who can we screw over to get what we want’ game. I hate that someone is doing it to me - to us - and I hate that I have to resort to it to get what I want.” Kurt knew that about Noah, how much he just wanted politics to be open and honest and above back-room dealings.
“You know I love your idealism, right?” Kurt couldn’t help the smile that crept into his voice.
“I like to think I’m a little more jaded than you are,” he replied with his own faint laugh.
“Sometimes you are. But the important stuff? You believe in it more than most.”
Noah’s voice was husky. “I learned from the best.”
“You did not.”
Noah snorted. “Please. What were the words you used when you came and rescued me in Columbus? Oh, right. Fuck how it’s done. Ring any bells?”
“There’s your answer, then. Tired of the intrigues and deals? Then fuck how it’s done. And before you tell me it’s not that easy, this isn’t supposed to be easy.”
“America isn’t easy. America is advanced citizenship. Or something like that?”
“Geek,” Kurt teased, and he got a genuine laugh back. “I’m glad I could make you laugh.”
“Only because you’re a bigger geek than I am, and we both know it.” Noah’s tone was, finally, gentle and relaxed.
“Yeah. I think you’re right about that.” Kurt just breathed in the silence for a few moments, enjoying the feeling of connection over the miles.
“You sound tired.”
“So do you.”
Noah sighed, softly and sadly. “I am.” Kurt could hear the creak of his desk chair and the clicking of his keyboard. “Tell me it’s worth it.”
“Us? Or everything else.” Kurt wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to that question, but he asked anyway.
“Both.”
Oh. Noah had to be in a bad way tonight. “It is. All of it. But - and I want you to understand this, very clearly, okay?” At Noah’s affirmative grunt, Kurt continued. “If I had to make a choice, you or politics, I would always choose you.”
“Baby.” Kurt could hear the tears in Noah’s voice. “I’d never ask you to choose.”
Kurt took a shaky breath of his own. “I know. But I wanted you to know that.”
“I love you, y’know.”
Kurt sighed, and smiled into the darkness. “I love you, too,” he whispered. He leaned back, and closed his eyes against the motion of the bus. He listened to Noah breathing, and typing, until he fell asleep.
**
Noah stayed in his office late, musing over the two emails in his inbox. He printed a copy of the anonymous one, tucked it into a file folder and slipped it into his briefcase, and then deleted the one in his inbox. The cyber people had a copy, as did the Secret Service, and he really wasn’t going to gain anything by having to look at it every time he logged into his email.
The one from Daniel was a different story.
That one Noah forwarded to his personal account, and then he deleted both the email and the records of the forwards to himself and Kurt. And then, to be thorough, he cleared out his trash folder.
If the plan rolling around in his head was going to work, it was going to have to be done off-hours. From home, from his non-government computer and email. When he had formulated enough of a plan to let him sleep, he closed up his office and walked home. His apartment felt empty and silent without Kurt there to fill the space with his quiet presence. They didn’t spend every night together, and they alternated between both of their apartments when they were together, which was why Noah was so surprised by the loneliness he was feeling. He turned on all the lights he could, and used the remote to key up his iHome as he wandered through to the bedroom, stripping off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt as he went. When he was down to boxers and a t-shirt, he brewed a half-pot of decaf coffee and settled down to deal with the email.
He fumbled over his keyboard for over an hour; he was nowhere near as gifted with words as Kurt was, and he didn’t want to give too much away in something that could be seen by anyone. By the time he’d finished the pot of coffee, he had managed to cobble together something worth sending.
He read it through one last time before clicking send.
From: puck@gmail.com
To: d.hamilton@gmail.com
Subject: Thank you
Sent: September 23, 2010
Daniel:
Thank you for sharing what you saw and heard.
I remember well how invisible pages can be sometimes. A friend and I used to joke that we were like hidden eyes and ears.
Are you enjoying being a page?
As you know, things are very busy these days, but feel free to contact me at this email address whenever you’d like.
-N
Everything else would have to wait till morning, so he turned on the late news on CNN and fell asleep on the couch.
***
From: d.hamilton@gmail.com
To: puck@gmail.com
Subject: Re: Thank you
Sent: September 23, 2010
N-
I might be more invisible than most, for reasons I’m sure you understand. I don’t hide, so nobody seems to want to get too close. This is politics, after all.
I’ll do my best to help. I’m not always working committee meetings, but I am in and out of lots of offices. And nobody looks twice at a page in the room.
I’ll email you with information as I can.
-D
From: puck@gmail.com
To: d.hamilton@gmail.com
Subject: politics
Sent: September 24, 2010
D-
Politics doesn’t have to be a game. At least not the way it’s always been played. K and I are proof of that. Don’t give up your dream because of something you can’t control.
-N
From: d.hamilton@gmail.com
To: puck@gmail.com
Subject: re: politics
Sent: September 25, 2010
N-
Thanks for the encouragement. It’s hard to keep pushing, sometimes, when I see resistance all around.
The Senator was talking about his son today. Did you know he’s in the Air Force?
-D
From: puck@gmail.com
To: keh@gmail.com
Subject: something?
Sent: September 25, 2010
K-
Did you know that our problem on the Hill has a son in the Air Force? Something more there, perhaps? How deep should I dig?
How’s the trip?
-N
From: keh@gmail.com
To: puck@gmail.com
Subject: Why I hate road trips
Sent: September 26, 2010
N-
We were picketed by Focus on the Family today.
And it was raining.
The only good thing about being here is the really good Mexican food.
Interesting news about our problem. I would sit on it for now. Keep working the rest of the committee, and see if you can turn him that way. If you really do want to play this a new way, that is.
I’ll be home on Thursday. I can’t wait.
-K
From: puck@gmail.com
To: keh@gmail.com
Subject: :(
Sent: September 26, 2010
Sorry. I know you hate traveling, and adding homophobes and rain and stirring makes a terrible soup. I wish I were on the trip with you.
Thanks for the advice. Sounds like a plan to me. I’ll wait it out.
Can’t wait to see you!
-N
From: puck@gmail.com
To: d.hamilton@gmail.com
Subject: more thanks
Sent: September 26, 2010
D-
Thank you for that tidbit. We’re going to hold onto that for a while, and try to work some other magic from within first.
You’ve done good, kid.
-N
***
Noah was running, darting through traffic as he crossed the street to the White House, when he heard his name being carried over the squeal and squeak of horns and brakes and slamming doors.
“Mr. Puckerman!” Noah turned toward the sound, and found himself in the penetrating gaze of a tall, black-haired man. He was wearing civilian clothes, but Noah had spent so much time around military men and women in recent weeks that he knew just from looking that the man was in the service.
Noah detoured over to the man and stuck out his hand. “Noah Puckerman.”
The man’s handshake was firm and strong. “Bill- William- Brennan.”
Noah tilted his head, studied him. “Senator Brennan.”
Brennan nodded. “My father. Is there- can we-.” He ran an uncomfortable hand over his bristling haircut and let his gaze settle at the tiny bakery across the street.
Noah followed Brennan’s eyes and nodded. “Not there, though.” He held up a hand. “Can you give me one minute? I just need to make a call.”
Brennan nodded, and Noah turned away before dialing his assistant. She answered on the third ring, but sounded bored. That at least meant that nothing was on fire. Always a good thing. “Tara, listen. I’ve been held up. I don’t know how long I’m going to be. I need you to reschedule my afternoon appointments.”
“Until when? You’re jammed up tomorrow.”
“Move my 2 pm to 5 pm, my 4:30 to 7, and if you combine my House and Senate Republicans tomorrow afternoon, I can take my 6 pm at 9 tomorrow morning.”
“How much is it worth to you?”
Noah thought about the potential in this meeting, and the good it could do. And how useless it might make all the other meetings. But he didn’t want to play his hand yet, especially not on a public street corner.
“I’ll buy you cappuccinos until Election Day.” Tara practically mainlined them. It was an easy call.
“Done and done. You’re the best boss.”
Noah scoffed into the phone. “Yeah. What’s a little bribery between boss and assistant?”
“You know you’d be lost without me. Go take your meeting.” Tara hung up without a word.
Noah turned to Brennan, who was watching passing cars and people with his hands jammed into the pockets of his dark jeans, and spoke softly. “This close, people see and hear everything. Follow me a couple of blocks?”
Brennan nodded, and Noah set off at a moderate pace. He wound his way through alleys and around corners until he pulled up in front of the Greek place Kurt liked. It was hidden, and while it did a brisk business it wasn’t on the radar of too many Important People, and so didn’t acquire the kinds of Important People Watchers that liked to linger closer to the White House and Capital. He held the door for Brennan, and followed him into the warm steaminess of the restaurant.
When they were seated at a back booth, coffee in front of them and orders given, Noah leaned back and eyed Brennan. “‘Scuse my language, but your father is a grade A bastard.”
Brennan’s eyes crinkled and sparkled lightly. “He is that. I suspect most of that is because of me.”
“Air Force, right?”
Brennan nodded. “I went to the Academy. I’ve got 16 years in. 4 more years, they vest my time at the Academy, and I’m a year from retirement.”
Noah let out a low whistle as his brain did the math. “So you retire at what, 42? Full military pension, and get have a whole second career as a civilian?”
Brennan nodded. “That was the plan, at least.”
“Was? Why not is?”
“This fight, Mr. Puckerman. It’s not just yours, or President Jackson’s. It’s mine.” Brennan stirred four packets of sugar and a splash of milk into his coffee, and tapped his spoon on the rim of his mug before setting it onto a napkin. His last words were so soft Noah almost didn’t hear. “And my father’s.”
Noah blinked three times in rapid succession and willed his brain to keep the hell up. “Your father knows.”
“About me, yes. He’s kept my secret since I was 23. He’s afraid of a long battle, afraid of what it might mean if attention is focused on this for too long. He’s afraid for my career, because if this gets out of committee and doesn’t pass, and I’m outed, I lose everything.”
“What about you? Are you afraid of those things?”
Brennan looked away, and when he turned back Noah could see hints of shame in his eyes. “I was, for a long time. But I’m tired, Mr. Puckerman.” He sighed softly. “I’ve flown two tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. My b- boyfriend, he’s a good guy and he’s looking for a commitment that I’m afraid to give because how can I be there for him when I’m wasting so much energy keeping a secret? I want more than this. All the others? They deserve more than this.”
Noah sipped at his coffee and thought around everything he was hearing. When he’d worked through the Senator, and the younger Brennan in front of him, and what he thought was being offered, he put his coffee mug down and placed his palms flat on the table top. He lowered his voice. “Are you telling me that you want to help? That you’re willing to go public, knowing the risks?”
Brennan held his gaze. “You met with those West Point cadets last week?”
“Yeah. Kids, the three of them.”
Brennan tore his eyes away and focused on his coffee spoon, the appetizer menu sticking out of the condiment tray, anything but on Noah. “They made me ashamed,” Brennan admitted, his whisper rough. “They were just babies, and they knew what was right. My way isn’t right, not anymore.”
Noah nodded. The kids had made him feel the same way, had made him question the merits of keeping his relationship with Kurt hidden. “I know what you mean. My, um. My.”
Brennan’s eyes crinkled again and he let out a light laugh at Noah’s stumblings. “Your boyfriend?”
“Um. Yes. My boyfriend works with me.” The words were out before he could stop them. “We’ve been keeping it quiet.” Noah shook his head, and found an unexpected strength in the words he hadn’t been able to share with Kurt. “We both thought it would make things easier, but it feels wrong somehow.”
“I understand. It was one thing when I was single.” Brennan pulled out his phone and scrolled for a moment before turning the screen towards Noah. The picture was of a sandy-haired man in shorts and a t-shirt on a beach, standing in front of an outcropping of rocks. “This is Jamie. We met three years ago. I was on leave, went on one of those gay singles cruises?”
Noah couldn’t help laughing outright.
“I know, right? I’m not sure what I was thinking, except that I was just tired of being single. I figured I’d go, have a fun time. Really belong somewhere, for the first time, you know?”
Noah thought about what it had felt like, getting on the bus to Indianapolis with Kurt his first day with the campaign. Further back, to being a page. To playing his first football game. “I know.”
“So I go to dinner the first night, and there’s this guy at my table. Nice, quiet. Intelligent. We talked for hours, but I didn’t want to be too forward. Too desperate. Too, I don’t know, everything. I tried to walk away when the cruise was over, but he wouldn’t let me. He knew that I was married to my job. He knew going in that I had to be closeted. The funny thing was that the longer we were together, the harder it was to keep the secret.” Brennan tucked his phone away. “Not for Jamie, surprisingly, but for me.”
Noah ran a hand through his hair. “I think that’s what’s happening with us. He can see both sides of it, and he’ll just go along. But,” he sighed roughly, “I feel like I’m a fraud or something.”
“Integrity.” Brennan nodded knowingly. “Preaching one thing and practicing the opposite, it’ll get you nowhere.”
They sat in silence for an almost-uncomfortably long time, until their plates were gone and their second cups of coffee were drained. Noah could feel Brennan’s unasked questions in the air between them. “You’re wondering what happens next.”
“Yes.”
“Have you been in touch with SLDN?”
“No.”
“Okay.” Noah scrolled through his contacts and pulled up the information for the guy he was working with there. “Call Jeremy. Tell him that we talked, and then call me after you meet with him. We can manage this however you want. But.” Noah paused, let his thumb hover over Kurt’s name in his contacts list. “You might want to think about telling your father first.”
Noah certainly didn’t envy Brennan that experience.
**
Kurt’s phone rang softly on the seat next to him as the bus barreled out of Chicago towards Indiana. Noah.
“Hey.” He curled further into himself, wrapping around the phone like he was trying to protect Noah’s words, keep them just for himself. He could hear street noises echoing on the other end of the call. “Where are you?”
“Headed back to the office. I had an unexpected guest today.”
“Okay.”
“The, um.” Kurt could hear Noah trying to choose his words carefully. “The offspring of our problem on the Hill.”
“Really?” Kurt couldn’t help the surprise in his voice. “He showed up on his own?”
“Yeah. And he had some interesting things to tell me.”
“I bet. I can’t wait to hear about it.” Kurt sighed into the phone. “Two more days.”
“Yeah. Listen.”
Kurt’s stomach clenched at the seriousness in Noah’s voice. “What?”
“No, baby. Don’t panic. It’s not bad.” Noah rushed to reassure him, and the strength in his tone let Kurt relax a tiny bit.
“O-okay.”
“I just-” Noah sighed. “I think we need to talk about going public.”
Oh. “Oh. Why?” Kurt rested his elbow against the cold metal wall, and leaned his head into his palm.
“Meeting all these soldiers. It makes me feel like a fraud, like I’m fighting for them but I’m not brave enough to fight for me. For us.” Kurt could hear fabric rustling, and the telltale squeak of the staff gate opening and closing.
“Almost back?” The sounds of outside disappeared, and Kurt could see the path Noah was taking, past the guarded desk, around the corner through the press bullpen, past the briefing room, and down the long hall to the end where his office sat. He heard Tara, Noah’s assistant, scolding him about something, and then her satisfied squeal about cappuccino. “Oh, you bad, bad man. Bribing your assistant.”
“She did me a solid this afternoon. She deserves it.” There was laughter in his voice, and that made Kurt smile. Very little about this trip had been able to do that.
“I miss you.” He lowered his voice to a whisper.
“I miss you, too. Would you really be okay, telling everyone?” Noah sounded doubtful.
“Yes. I would.” He hadn’t been, until that moment. But he also knew that it was the right decision. “I think, though, that the logistics...” Kurt thought about AJ, the way she battled the press like a mama lion. “AJ will take care of us, but.”
Kurt heard a thunk as Noah settled into his desk chair. “But. There will be repercussions. And not necessarily positive ones.”
“Which is why we shouldn’t make the decision on our own. I know you’re anxious about this, but can it hold for two more days?”
“Yeah.” Noah sounded exhausted. “I have so much other stuff to deal with. Just knowing that you’re willing to consider the idea, that makes it better.”
“I’m glad, baby. I hate feeling so far away from you. I can’t wait to be back.”
“I can’t wait for you to be back. I never thought . . .” Noah let his thought trail off, but Kurt picked it up within a heartbeat.
“How fast this would happen. I know. But it’s okay. It’s all going to be okay. Now,” Kurt looked out into the dusk, “you probably have a ton of work to do. And I have a date with a speech revision. Talk with you tomorrow?”
“Of course.” Kurt could hear clicking, and then the sudden buzzing of Noah’s intercom. And then the dismay in Noah’s voice. “Crap. My next meeting is here.”
“Go to work, baby. I love you.”
“Love you, too. Tomorrow.”
The phone went dead. Kurt pulled his laptop out of his bag, but just held it in his lap. He didn’t power it up until they had crossed the state line.