The Ghost and Mr. Hummel (5/9)
Kurt knew it was better to respect Dave and not go looking for articles about him, but it was getting hard to resist. Sometimes he would stare at his iPhone, debating if he should do a Google search, when Dave would pop back into the room, shocking him.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Dave to tell him eventually, but not knowing was killing him. What was so horrible about his death that he still lingered in this world, unable to move on?
Clearly it was something, because Dave wouldn’t talk about it, and would shut down whenever he referenced it. If Kurt didn’t know better, he would almost guess that he committed suicide.
But that didn’t seem like Dave; he was a pretty cheerful person, considering he was dead. It was just hard to imagine Dave having thoughts about trying to kill himself. It seemed so foreign from the Dave he knew so well.
No, it probably wasn’t that. It couldn’t be, could it?
‘But what else could it be?’ wondered Kurt. He was staring at his computer for what felt like the hundredth time, fighting himself on searching Dave’s name. It felt like such an invasion of privacy, almost like reading a diary.
“I guess I should leave it alone,” muttered Kurt. He closed the Google tab, leaving open a page of a fashion blog.
“Leave what alone?” asked Dave, his head popping through the wall.
Kurt’s hand flew to his heart, and for a moment, he swore he might have felt his heart hit his rib cage. “What the hell, Dave!” cried out Kurt. “I thought we talked about you popping through the wall!
“Oops,” said Dave, deadpan. “Sorry.”
“Uh huh, sure,” said Kurt, glaring. “Now stop that and get in here; your head stuck in the wall reminds me of those animal plaques.”
Dave grinned, walking into the room properly. “So sorry to make you squeamish. Hey, do you wanna watch a movie?”
“Depends, what kind of movie?”
Dave thought for a moment, and said, “Princess Bride? You can’t say no to that, it’s basically a wittier, better version of a chick flick.”
Kurt shook his head, his lips turned up in mirth. “I suppose you’re right there, and there’s also fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles...” quoted Kurt.
“And I’ll try to stay awake,” teased Dave.
“Okay, I think that’s enough quoting even before the movie,” said Kurt, getting up from the computer. “You pop in the movie, and I’m going to go grab a snack.” By the time Kurt was back, the menu was looping, ready to go. They got comfy on the bed, Kurt taking his favored right side of the bed as Dave took the left.
The light from the window was dim as they watched Westley and Buttercup roll down the hill, Kurt’s eyes drooping slightly. Kurt vaguely heard the dialogue, and he felt himself waken just a little.
‘I told you I would always come for you. Why didn't you wait for me?’ asked Westley from the television screen.
‘Well... you were dead,’ answered Buttercup matter-of-factly.
‘Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while,’ uttered Westley.
Kurt drifted to sleep to Buttercup swearing never to doubt again, and Westley reassuring her that she would need not worry for the rest of her life.
‘If only that could be said for me…’ was Kurt’s last thought before falling completely to sleep.
A groan came from the comforter where Kurt lay on top of his textbooks. Dave looked over, smirking. “So what are you working on now, O Wise One?”
“Stupid math,” Kurt grumbled. He turned over and groaned again. “Just, math is good for architects, engineers, mathematical careers. But I have plans to be on Broadway, set design, fashion! Do any of those things have math to them?”
“Well,” Dave said, “there’s figuring out the dimensions to a prop, how much fabric you need to make a thousand dresses, estimating how many people need to get sick before you end up with the lead role in a show, stuff like that.”
“But that stuff makes sense!” huffed Kurt. “Not this ridiculous mumbo-jumbo.”
Dave peered down at the textbook, looking at the questions. “These aren’t that bad.”
Kurt raised his head slowly, glaring. “What?”
“I was doing this math my junior year, I could help.” Dave then grinned. “Unless you’d like me to leave you alone to figure it out yourself…”
“No, no, that’s quite alright,” said Kurt hastily. “Do carry on.”
“Someone changed their tune pretty quick,” teased Dave. “But I will help you, out of the goodness of my heart.”
“Yeah, you’re a saint; now help me with this so I can finish it before Project Runway comes on!” Kurt motioned towards his homework hurriedly, and Dave laughed, scooting closer to Kurt on the bed.
“As you wish, TV junkie.” Dave finally sat next to Kurt, their shoulders almost touching, and Kurt felt a slight breeze waft over his skin as he settled into his spot, the air shifting. It was odd, how natural this position felt with Dave, despite how the bed didn’t dip like it did when he lay next to Rachel or Mercedes.
It wasn’t mind-wracking, lying next to Dave like he did when he stood next to Blaine. Everything was calm and easy, like Dave had always been in his life. Kurt let his mind wander for a moment before Dave coaxed him into working on another problem. Yes, this felt natural, like they could be like this it for the rest of his life. Kurt wondered if that would even be possible.
It was a typical Thursday night for Kurt Hummel, sitting at his desk finishing his homework as he chatted with his resident ghost on the very oddball topic of Valentine’s day. He wasn’t even sure how they came to talk about the romantic holiday, except maybe since it was a few months away. Either way, he could tell that Dave felt very strongly about this.
“I just don’t see the appeal of Valentine’s day,” said Dave. “Why is there only one day of celebrating a relationship while the rest of the 364 days of the year are spent squandering respect for your partner?”
“365 days on a leap year,” added Kurt while he wrote another sentence for his Lit paper. “But I never took you for a philosophical man of romance.” Kurt looked up to send Dave a playful smirk. “One would think you had been hiding your brain before this.”
“I’m a man full of surprises,” said Dave, making a mocking gesture at preening.
“Oh, that I don’t doubt. But I figure that Valentine’s Day isn’t a day to make up for all the screw ups, it’s like an anniversary. It’s marking a place in your relationship where you can be grateful for your better half.”
“I guess so,” Dave said, mulling over the theory. “So it’d still be classy to do something like ‘when the last object in this bouquet dies, that’s when I stop loving you,’ and then stick a dildo right in the middle?”
Kurt sputtered, pulling away from the desk to look at Dave, flabbergasted. “What kind of a mind comes up with something that obscene?”
“Mine, apparently,” said Dave with a grin.
“Yes, an odd little screwball like you,” muttered Kurt as he turned back to his homework.
Dave shrugged, getting up from his chair to walk to the desk. He leaned over to look Kurt in the eyes, leaning an elbow on the desk.
“You’ve probably heard worse.”
“Yes, from you.”
“What about Puck? You’ve said out of all Ohio, he probably has the dirtiest mouth and filthiest thoughts.”
Kurt paused for a moment in consideration. “Well. You’ve got me there.”
Dave laughed, his breath cool on Kurt’s face. Sometimes it was odd how alive Dave could appear; his body, the wind that gusted whenever he moved or breathed. It was so hard to imagine Dave dead, rotting somewhere in a casket when he seemed so alive right in front of him.
“Hey, you still in there?” asked Dave.
Kurt started at the interruption of his mind’s wandering. “I was still recovering from that terrible joke, actually. Really Dave, that was just disgusting.”
“Awwww, poor little Kurtie. Did I break your brain? Just don’t hurt yourself; you need that noggin for another sixty years at least.”
“Har har,” said Kurt with sarcasm. “Thank you for that. Now why don’t you let me finish this paper? It’s due in two days and I want to make it perfect.”
“As you wish, master,” said Dave dryly.
Kurt’s breath hitched at Dave’s words, remembering the movie they watched just a few days ago. Maybe it was silly to think of Westley’s words as Dave’s admittance to… something. To possible affection, even maybe love? No, that wasn’t possible that he would feel that way. Dave saw him as a roommate, a buddy to talk to and tell his troubles, or at least as much as he was willing to let on about his life. It was just a silly crush that he had on Dave, something that would go away with time. It wasn’t like he could ever act on his feelings; that was apparent ever since the first time Dave walked right through him.
It hurt, knowing that they could never touch like Kurt desired. He wanted to connect with Dave. Not just on a mental and emotional level, but a physical one. He never realized just how much he could crave the touch of someone else before, and it scared him a little. He didn’t feel this way about Blaine, but he did for Dave, the one person that he couldn’t get close to. He didn’t hope to die anytime soon, but he still had the overwhelming urge to be close to Dave. But to gain that intimacy, the cost would be his life, and that was something he wasn’t willing to give up.
Without a way to touch each other, Kurt didn’t see any hope for a solution to their problems. And he would just have to deal with it. ‘Maybe someday,’ thought Kurt.