A/N: Ok, so I'm a lying liar who lies. Sorry this wasn't posted last night. You can blame the flu that's going around and forcing me into being called into work to cover an extra shift.
Also, this really isn't a "M" rated fic...soft M at best...but FFnet's rating system sucks.
"Play-off's this afternoon. Think I'm gonna barf," Dave utters from his corner of the couch in the lounge. Yup, this is definitely Their Place. Kurt had even politely shooed away some Norwegians who were sitting here a half hour earlier.
"Semifinals? No? This game determines if we'll be playing for gold or bronze." Oh, shit. "Oh, shit, this game could determine that we don't medal at all."
"Oh, right. Yes, I suppose that would be somewhat important," Kurt says, pulling the lid off his latte and discarding it on the table in front of him. "I can't believe how long all these hockey games are. Em was finished with his event barely halfway through the games."
Dave knows that the only reason Kurt is still around was that his employer had managed to medal. He's never been so happy for an ice skater to win a bronze medal. Seriously, he should send the kid flowers or something.
Twenty minutes later and Dave is still bemoaning his nerves and apparently Kurt can't help himself and decides to tease him. "Should I track you down a paper bag? You look a little green there, David."
"Don't think I have anything left to hurl." After a rather lackluster pep talk from his dad over breakfast, Dave had found himself hunched over a toilet and thoroughly regretting that side-order of sausage.
"Want me to grab you some food, than?" Kurt asks. "You've got your big game, which you probably shouldn't be playing on an empty stomach. I can get you something before I have to leave."
Dave watches as Kurt stands up and starts collecting things and carefully stowing them away in his satchel. The large clock on the wall reads 11:38. "I should probably go too," Dave says, looking around the lounge. "I stay here too long looking scared and pathetic all alone someone will take a picture and post it online." Ugh, Dave just knows there's still that horrid picture of him with his hand down some guy's pants at a club from like two years ago floating around cyber space.
"You'll do fine," Kurt says, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "I've been informed you've been playing exceptionally well so far." Kurt starts to turn away before hesitating and pivoting back quickly to face Dave. There's this odd look in Kurt's eyes as he opens and then quickly closes his mouth without saying anything. With a quick shake of his head, Kurt starts walking back to Dave.
Dave has barely a moment to be confused as to why Kurt's moving in so close to him when his soft lips are pressed briefly to his.
"For good luck" is whispered by Kurt when finally he pulls back.
"For your game you're going to be playing in, like, three hours?" Kurt is sporting that ever so enticing blush again and is pointedly not meeting Dave's gaze. Reaching up, the stylist fiddles with Dave's collar and then smooths his hand over the curve of Dave's shoulder and down the length of his arm before giving a slight tug at the hem of his sleeve. "I should really be heading back now."
Dave makes a non-committal noise and can't stop staring at Kurt. He wants nothing more than to lean forward and re-capture those lips he's been fixated on for far longer than what is even remotely healthy but he knows what a colossal mistake that would be. It's not his place, he hasn't earned the right. Right? But the fact that Kurt willingly moved in himself does things to Dave. His hand is up and cupping the side of Kurt's face before he's even realized he moved. A brush of his thumb over Kurt's bottom lip is all he allows himself before he forcefully removes himself from Kurt's immediate space. "Thank you."
Those two words are loaded and both men are fully aware of it.
Dave meets up with his team and is still in a visible daze. It was barely a kiss at all but it was from Kurt. And after everything in their past, it's huge. At least Dave thinks it was huge. Kurt had lingered and touched. Dave's gotten good luck kisses in the past and they tended to consist of pecks on the cheeks accompanied by toothy smiles or hearty slaps on the back. Dammit, he was going to spend this whole game trying to analyze the kiss Kurt had given him.
Daley, their assistant coach, gives Dave a knowing grin and thwacks Dave on his back. "Give your boyfriend a call. I'll make sure there's a ticket for him tonight." Daley has his walky-talky out and is striding away from him before Dave can form any sort of response.
His phone is in his hands before Dave can really even think about it fully. All he can think about is how awesome it would be to have Kurt sitting in the crowd cheering for him. Kurt's line is ringing and Dave's a little happy when he gets sent through to voicemail because it gives him a second to compose himself and figure out what he's going to say.
The locker room is filled with the usual pre-game buzz and Dave finds it easy to put his phone away and get pulled into the normal routines and prep.
It all passes far too quickly and suddenly it's time to take the ice. Kurt never gets back to him one way or another with if he was actually going to attend the game. And Dave does not care. He doesn't. Hockey really probably isn't much of Kurt's thing. And he's probably busy with that Gala thing he keeps talking about. And so what if he gave Dave a good luck kiss.
Ryan eagerly pushes past him and starts zipping around the ice. Dave takes it a bit slower, crouching down and making sure all his gear is snug. He starts skating a little lazily as he takes in the Belarus, Belarusian?, team across the rink. Dave still doesn't have a goddamn clue where the hell that country is located and decides to place full blame on Mr. McKavan back in Lima.
Beside him, their left winger Ostrzyeki yells out "baby" and waves up at the crowd to his wife. Dave chuckles and looks over, making a mental point of not being jealous. Ostrzyeki's wife is all sorts of cute, looking like some sort of wannabe mob wife from Jersey, fur coat and glinting gold and neon colors. And then, much to his shock, he spots Kurt. Of course Daley would have stashed Kurt along with the wives and family of the rest of the guys. Dave swallows thickly when he notices his parents seating barely seats away from Kurt a row back.
And quite suddenly the fact that this game is going to determine if their team is even eligible to be playing for a medal is completely trivial. Seriously, there's karma and then there's shit like this. It's just not fair.
"Good game, David, good game. Congratulations."
Dave pauses for a moment and scans the crowd outside arena before he finally locates his parents and the source of the voice. They both have their special visitor passes on but still aren't allowed access to the backstage area. He makes his way over quickly, smiling and waving at the various cameras and well wishes being aimed his way.
Dave tries not to stare too long at Kurt who's at his mother's side. Her rose colored nails are latched onto Kurt's arm like talons and he makes a mental note to thank Kurt later for not snapping at the woman over marking up his jacket. It's clearly on the man's mind though. Dave can see the irritation clearly in the flash of white that are Kurt's teeth clenching together. Yeah, he's going to really have to thank Kurt for not snarling.
So, yeah, clearly hoping that his parents and Kurt wouldn't cross paths was a futile wish. He can only hope too much hasn't been said while we wasn't present. There's no way his karmatic balance should be this far in the red. Not after all this time.
"Hey, guys!" Dave finds himself exclaiming. He really just wants to greet Kurt first but he knows his mother would take it as a personal insult if she wasn't addressed first. He feels a little bad for thinking maybe Kurt would too.
"Oh, sweetheart, there you are! Look what we have here!" His mom gives a smile that Dave is nearly positive is completely sincere as she glances to her side at Kurt. "You can imagine our surprise, David, when this one started talking about Lima of all places! It was like a breath of fresh air! You didn't tell us you were bringing any...friends with you, sweetheart."
Leaning in, Dave presses a kiss to his mother's cheek. He flicks his gaze over briefly to Kurt's and offers the man an apologetic smile. "I wasn't sure if Kurt was going to attend the game or not-"
"I'm very busy," Kurt quips quickly.
And Dave quickly realizes neither he nor Kurt had addressed the 'friend' comment which clearly should have been done first if that glint in his mother's eyes is anything to go by. "Kurt was a surprise for me too, actually. We ran into each other in the Olympic Village last week. I haven't seen Kurt in years."
His father grabs his arm and pulls Dave in to pat him on the back. The low words that follow aren't a surprise. "That's that boy isn't it? The one from High School? From when you were nearly expelled?" Dave's thankful that his father is trying to be discreet about this. It's a toss up if his father has already shared this with his mother. Though from the way his mother is chatting Kurt's ear off, Dave is pretty sure she has no idea that Kurt is The One. Ugh, seriously, did he just mentally think 'The One'?
"We really should be leaving," his mother speaks up, drawing the attention back to herself. "I hear that these restaurants are only holding reservations for 10 minutes. 10 minutes! If you're any later they completely throw your reservation out. I understand that it's the Olympics but that seems completely unnecessary to me. Oh, Kurt, sweetheart, you'll be joining us tonight, won't you? Oh, of course you are! Isn't he, David?"
"Mrs Karofsky, I'd love to but I really am far too busy. I barely found the time to make it to this match thingy tonight. Emerson is attending an event tomorrow and is still up in arms over what he needs to wear."
"He knows Nathaniel Emerson, David! Did you know that? That's absolutely fascinating. Such grace. I still can't believe he's straight."
Dave's eyes fly to Kurt and the slighter man gives an obnoxious eye roll and mouths 'Emerson, idiot'. Right. Obviously. "Well, if you're sure you can't, Kurt. We really should try to make our way to a car or something."
"Of course, of course. For our reservations." Dave watches as his mother turns and smiles back at Kurt. "Well, you tell that Nathaniel that he is a wonderful skater. Maybe we can do brunch tomorrow. We'll see you around, won't we, David? At the very least at David's final game. We should make sure to see about getting our seats together. Who would we need to talk to about that, David?"
"I'm really not sure if that's even possible, mom."
"Well, yous have a great meal, I'm sure it will be wonderful." Kurt very carefully, and discreetly, peels the hands off of his arm. "Ah, congrats on the game," Kurt directs at Dave. "It was well played, I guess. Well, obviously, because you won..."
Dave moves in and draws Kurt in for a hug before he can walk away. Yeah, he's abusing the very public setting in hopes that Kurt won't freak out like Dave had imagined him doing this past week if he was to move in too close. The arms that reach up and wind around his shoulders feel nearly as good as the kiss Kurt had given him earlier. Dave presses his face into Kurt's neck, out of his parents sight, and mouths a wet kiss to the exposed flesh. "Thank you for coming today. I liked...I liked having you in the crowd."
Kurt pulls back just enough to study Dave's face. He gives a shake of his head as he reaches up to brush his thumb over the small butterfly bandage that is holding Dave's split lip together. "You're a bunch of brutes, you are." They have a quiet moment before Kurt seems to remember that Dave's parents are not even four feet away from them and that there's still cheering American fans further behind them. He pulls himself out of Dave's arms and straightens his jacket. "Have a good night."
"I'll talk with you tomorrow?"
Kurt just nods before he slips away into the stadium, flashing his various passes at the event staff and guards as he goes.
The nails that had been latched onto Kurt suddenly find their way into Dave's arm and he grimaces briefly at his mother.
"Such a lovely young man, David. You two seem to get along well and you're still so painfully single."
"Leave it, Lydia," Dave's dad mumbles as he tries to steer his wife towards the road.
"So, do you know what Kurt's stance on adoption is?"
"Mom!" Jesus. Dave prays that none of these reporters are leaning in close enough to hear any of this.
"Look, I've finally... If you have to be a homosexual, than fine but the least you could do is start adopting me some grandbabies. You haven't brought a man home to meet the family in ages."
Dave has brought home exactly one man to meet the family. It was during his final year of university and it had been a complete clusterfuck of badness. And while that was definitely a large deciding factor in whether or not Dave was bringing any boyfriends home, the truth was there hadn't been anyone serious enough to garner a plane ticket since then.
"Kurt seems a little overly effeminate but at least it'd be obviously who wore the pants in your relationship."
Oh sweet Jesus, this dinner is going to be hell.
Dave doesn't wait until the next day to see Kurt again. In fact, after he deposits his parents back at their hotel room after dinner and makes vague plans for the following day, he searches out Kurt's room as soon as he makes his way back to the Village. He just...he needs to see Kurt again. Needs to make sure things are still ok between them. Needs to know that...what happened earlier wasn't a fluke or something. Needs to know what the hell it means. If anything.
When he finally knocks on Kurt's door he's breathing heavy and he's not even sure why.
Kurt opens the door and looks in surprise at Dave. He doesn't slam the door shut, so Dave counts it as a win.
"I-I hope you don't mind me showing up here."
"No. No, of course not." And Kurt opens his door a little wider.
"I needed," Dave starts but quickly draws a blank. He needed to what? "I needed to see you. I just-"
"You can," falls softly from Kurt's lips and Dave's sure the only reason that he's even heard it is because he's been staring. Dave frowns up in confusion so Kurt continues, "You...you're staring. I-it's quite clear what... You can, I'm giving you permission."
"Say it," comes out in a near growl that Dave is thoroughly ashamed of. "Say it, Kurt."
Oh, god. Dave stumbles two steps forward and has a brief panic over where to put his hands before he just goes for it and cradles Kurt's face to draw their mouths together. Dave wants to be poetic about it and say it was electric and there were fireworks and maybe there were but all he can focus on is oh god, so fucking good. And even though Kurt had managed to gain a few more inches in height since Dave had last had the pleasure of standing near a teenage Kurt, Kurt still fits fantastically against him. Dave doesn't have to hunch over or stretch his neck out to be able to capture Kurt's soft lips. His head is still the perfect size that Dave is able to splay his hands out to cradle and tilt his head up. The perfect size that allows Dave to card his fingers through the silky hair and rub his thumb over the flushed skin of his cheek.
The first press of lips is brief and Dave has to pull back just to see. Just to make sure it's still ok and make sure it's still real and still Kurt. Kurt's mouth is still open and Dave barely gets a look at all before manicured nails are tugging him back in.
"C'mon, inside," Kurt mumbles against Dave's mouth as he tugs at Dave's coat. Dave's just inside Kurt's room when he finds himself being pushed back. His back hits the door and a few steps backwards has the door clicking shut loudly behind them. "Touch me."
Dave's gaze darts up in shock at the whispered words. He tries to not hear the sigh Kurt gives because he's sure it's one of annoyance. Yeah, Dave's well on his way to fucking this whole thing up before it's actually a thing at all. Before Dave can follow Kurt's instruction, Kurt wraps his hand around Dave's and draws it down to eagerly slip under his own shirt. And that's really all the prompting Dave needs to allow his hand free reign of exploring the warm, taut flesh hidden underneath Kurt's red button-down shirt. His other hand finds it's way to Kurt's neck. Fingers brushing along the hair at his nape and his palm pressed solidly to the rapid flutter of Kurt's pulse.
"Kept waiting for you to do something this last week," Kurt confesses breathlessly as he presses his lips to Dave's jaw. "And when I started to think I was reading things wrong I'd notice you staring again. So, stop...stop waiting for permission."
Dave watches Kurt grab at his coat and make quick work of his buttons. When his coat is shoved off his shoulders, Dave finally gets with the program. He eagerly pulls his shirt off over his head before lurching forward to help Kurt with his own. They make their way towards Kurt's bed, articles of clothes, mostly Dave's, being discarded to the floor every couple of steps.
They're in bed when Dave finally manages to tug off Kurt's lounge pants. Dave pulls back just enough to fully take in the sight of Kurt splayed out naked in front of him. Letting out a groan of appreciation at the view, Dave runs his hands up Kurt's thighs to just feel. "So much better than I remember."
"Should've known it would have been you who was sneaking a peak at my junk in high school."
The light laughter from Kurt draws Dave's surprised look up. "You remember-?"
"I may not recall all the insults I threw out," Kurt says, his fingers curling around Dave's shoulder and easily pushing the larger man over onto his back. Dave's breath hitches when those pale thighs he'd just been exploring spread to straddle his waist. "But a boy always remembers his first kiss."
First kiss? Fuck, how had Dave never known that? Kurt's right though, a boy always does remember his first kiss. And right now Dave wants to show Kurt exactly how far along he's come since then.
It takes a stupid amount of self-restraint to not just shove his tongue into Kurt's mouth because all Dave wants to do is taste. He busies himself by nipping sharply at Kurt's plump bottom lip making sure Kurt's mouth looks bruised and swollen and taken.
Kurt starts to move down Dave's body, his thighs rubbing deliciously over Dave's. And when those skilled hands follow along, touching and stroking, Dave's blood rushes south so quickly he's sure he's going to black out.
Dave wants nothing more than to close his eyes and fully enjoy the feel of Kurt pressed against him. It'd be a wasted opportunity though, wouldn't it? So he forces his eyes open as he pants into Kurt's shoulder.
It's rather embarrassing how quickly Dave finds himself coming. He can't help but squeeze his eyes close tight, finally looking away from Kurt, as he gives a quiet cry. The keening noise breaks through the foggy haze and Dave remembers his manners as he fumbles his hand down to help Kurt along.
They lay there silently for several long minutes, the only sound between them their panting, or maybe it's just Dave's. He's really not sure why it feels as if he's spent an hour skating laps. His hands starting to get sticky but he can't find the energy to search out a cloth or tissue.
"I'm sorry," Dave says, his nose brushing at Kurt's hair. He's had a reason, a reason beyond wanting nothing more than to sink deep into Kurt and never leave, for showing up at Kurt's room. "I'm so sorry for anything my parents may have said to you. That's...that's as good as it's going to get with them"
"I just...that's why I came to see you. I wanted...I wanted to make sure they didn't say anything that-"
Kurt just laughs and curls himself closer. "I think I should be thoroughly insulted that I'm all naked and pressed against you and you're talking about your parents. Hush, or you'll kill my buzz."
"Mmm, there'll be no buzz killing. In fact, you give me a few minutes and I'll be more than happy to start this all over again."
"I want you to come to my game," Dave says later that night.
Kurt doesn't pull away which Dave counts as a win - and he really seems to be piling those up today - but he does look away. "I can't. I'm heading back to the US after the Exhibition."
"It's just one day," Dave counters.
"I've already been here nearly a week longer than anticipated. Em's already delayed my flight once."
"I'll pay for it, no problem."
"It's not about the money."
"No, it isn't. It's about me asking if you'd be willing to cheer me on to gold."
"Really?" Kurt questions quietly, moving in to Dave's space and licking at his bottom lip. Dave opens his mouth automatically and is rewarded with Kurt licking his way into his mouth. Jesus, Dave's never been a huge fan of mint but the taste of Kurt and that hint of mint is nearly intoxicating. "You just want me here to cheer you on during your game? Because I'm pretty sure I could watch that game from nearly anywhere." Kurt tugs at Dave's shoulder to roll the larger man over and on top of himself. As Dave carefully settles his weight over Kurt he's sure the sigh Kurt gives is one of contentment.
"You're right. It's about me," Dave says quietly, staring down at Kurt.
"And?" Kurt prompts.
"It's about me wanting you."
"And?" Kurt prompts again.
Dave shakes his head, "No, that's...that's all." The little noise Kurt makes at the admission shoots right down to his groin. Dave is helpless and all too happy to let Kurt loop his leg around Dave's waist and be drawn down to have Kurt recapture his lips.
Dave blinks away the piercing glare of the sun and reaches across the bed to...find it empty? He has a brief moment to question his sanity when the bathroom door swings open and a deliciously naked Kurt walks out. Dave's breath catches as he watches Kurt roughly towel dry his hair before discarding the towel and walking over to kneel on the bed.
Kurt captures Dave's hand and tries to tug him up. It's a completely useless attempt because Dave is always dead weight in the morning. With a groan, he pushes himself into a seated position. Kurt leans in and presses a kiss to Dave's shoulder. "I left some toiletries on the counter for you," Kurt says, tilting his head towards the bathroom.
Subtlety thy name is not Kurt Hummel.
Dave stretches and gives a wide yawn making sure to not breathe all over Kurt. Groaning at the effort, he rolls out of bed and starts stumbling towards the open door. He's half tempted to just skip the shower but Kurt's trailed behind him into the bathroom and is staring. His still rather sleep leaden brain recognizes the heated looks Kurt is giving him and Dave can't believe he's managed to forget he was as naked as Kurt.
He decides to give Kurt a show and quickly goes through his morning ritual. Fifteen minutes later, Dave's barely spit the mouthful of foam into the sink when Kurt is leaning in to steal a minty kiss.
Wrapping his hands around Kurt's waist, Dave effortlessly lifts the man up and places him on the counter. The shocked squeak Kurt gives when his bare ass hits the cold surface causes Dave to chuckle.
"So," Kurt says, pulling away and nipping at Dave's jaw. "We'll always have Annecy? Doesn't quite have the same ring as 'Paris' but, meh."
Dave is silent for a long stretch and bides his time by reaching out and brushing Kurt's still damp hair from his forehead. The question was certainly tossed out in a playful manner but it's definitely one of the last things Dave wants. He's just not sure exactly how Kurt feels about this.
"It doesn't have to be that way, Kurt. We could have more. I know I want more."
"I don't even know where you live," Kurt confesses quietly.
"Told you, I play for the Bruins now."
"Yeah, and I might as well start explaining the ins and outs of-"
"Boston. I live in Boston."
"Boston," Kurt repeats.
"It's not right next door but it's still possible. If we want, it can work." It can, he's already Google mapped it. And between games and everything else...
Kurt nods and tugs at Dave's shoulders to draw him back in and Dave is happy to let himself be distracted.
"And you must be the famous David whose been eating up all Kurt's time!" Emerson smiles brightly and holds out his hand.
Dave wants to hate the kid but he's making it difficult. A quick glance around tells Dave that Kurt's already slipped off somewhere. Jerk. Kurt totally knew he was leaving an uncomfortable Dave in pretty little Emerson's hands. Breakfast had barely settled in Dave's stomach when Kurt was dragging him along to meet Emerson.
Dave blames the orgasms still making his brain fuzzy and sweet kisses that had started in the bathroom and continued while they dressed that morning. "Hey," Dave finally says weakly, giving in to the inevitable. Offering up his hand, Dave can't help but be a little startled by the firm grip and over-eager shaking.
"My big brother and dad are huge fans of yours! My dad says you could totally be the next - er, y'know, that other famous enforcer guy?" Emerson pulls a face in concentration. "I think it starts with a B or something? I don't know."
"Um, thanks. My, uh, mother is a big fan of yours. She got a little starry eyed when she learned that Kurt designs your outfits and actually knows you."
Emerson finally, finally, drops Dave's hand and gives a bright laugh. "Moms love me! It's the woe of the male figure skater."
Goddamn, what the hell is he supposed to say? Dave's doing his best to not be rude and curls his lips up in a half-hearted smile.
"I bet you and Kurt look amazing together! I, I so don't mean in the creepy way! I just mean in the contrasting kinda way. My first girlfriend was my height but a little waifier than me and built like a boy. It musta been like lookin' in a mirror! Two peas in a pod! Bor-ring! But she gave really good head. But then my mom found out I was 'sexually active' and totally blew a gasket!"
Shoot him. Seriously, shoot him. Why the hell did the kid think Dave even cared? Why wouldn't he stop? Dave nervously glances around the room and is surprised to find Kurt leaning against the bathroom door frame. The little smug grin on Kurt's face earns him a glare. Kurt just shakes his head and mouths "Not my type."
Ah, so Dave hadn't been as subtle about his jealousy over the time Kurt spent with Emerson as he'd thought.
"I just need him for another hour and then he's yours for the day!" Emerson must have watched them staring at each other and assumed, well not the worst but assumed nonetheless if the blush staining his cheeks is anything to go by.
"As much as I'd love that the teams going into lockdown in prep for tomorrow's game." And he still has to make up with brunch or something with his parents after blowing them off this morning.
"Oh." And Emerson looks honestly disappointed by that. It's right then and there that Dave realizes he can't hate the little skater. It's like hating on a kitten. "But what's Kurt supposed to do with his day?"
"Uh, I guess there's that-"
"Well, thank you busy bodies for trying to plan out my day for me," Kurt says, rolling his eyes.
"So what are you planning to do with your day?"
"I figured sightseeing and taking all those photos I promised mom."
Dave wonders if Kurt will share the ones the two of them took in front of the Olympic Flame with his parents. "Sounds like fun. It's snowing a bit but not too cold out right now. Maybe...maybe later tonight I can call you when I finish up with the team?"
"Yeah," Kurt agrees, glancing away to fiddle with his camera.
"Yay, it's a date!" Emerson gives a few claps before grasping onto Dave's arm and dragging him towards the door. Dave has a moment to ponder at the skater's strength before the door is opening and he's being pushed out. "Now get the hell out. It's a fashion emergency and you're wasting valuable time."
Dave blinks as the door is slammed in his face. Right.
The rest of the day blurs by in a rush that Dave can barely process. Something he is aware of though is that it's bright and early and the day of his gold medal game and he's still curled up in bed. The last day of the Olympics.
Kurt huffs in his sleep and his nails lightly scrape over Dave's hips as he tries to tug them closer together in his sleep. Dave is happy to help the sleeping man out and shuffles in closer.
Dave has a vague memory of calling Kurt last night when he finally made his way back to his room. He doesn't really recall much after that beyond exhaustion. The boxers twisting around his thigh are an obvious indicator that nothing strenuous had happened.
Dave lets Kurt's breathing lull him back to sleep.
"Ok, so I gotta make my way to the locker room. I gotta game to win." Dave's got this shit covered. He's spent the morning with his parents and even managed to coerce Kurt into joining them for breakfast. His stomach is full, he's well rested, his mind is clear and, ok, he's smiling like a total idiot because Kurt's with him.
Kurt gives a playful smile as he gropes at Dave. "Go beat on some poor, unsuspecting Canadians."
"My mom just totally saw you grabbing my ass."
"Shut up, she did not."
"She actually really did." And now Dave has to try not to make eye contact with his parents. "Now I have to head down to the locker room and you're stuck sitting next to them later today for a couple hours. I know there's still a few hours 'til the game but she has a mind like a fox. Shoulda thought that one through, fancy."
Kurt grins and gives Dave a quick peck on the corner of his mouth. "Whatever you say, ham hock. I've got Nathaniel Emerson in my back pocket to distract her with. Go, have fun."
Fun. Fun, Dave reminds himself. If he thought his first official game on an actual NHL team was a nervous blur... Hell, if he thought the game against Belarus was a nervous blur he really isn't sure what to think of this.
The only thing he really remembers about the coaches talk is them stressing to guard the net, that being defensive was the only way to win against the Canadians. He remembers stepping onto the ice and the fucking roar of the crowd and he maybe thinks he actually did hear his name over the loudspeakers but the crowd was so fuckin' loud. He remembers taking a bad hit early on and sitting out for 15 minutes while trying desperately to remember how to breathe without it hurting so much. He remembers the quick call he makes before hitting the ice again for second period and getting stuck talking to his dad before Kurt had reclaimed his phone long enough for Dave to say he had plans for that pretty, little ass later.
And skating. He remembers lots of skating and getting low and blocking and shoving and a stupid fall he just knows is going to make it on some sports blooper reel.
And then...and then...
What the hell just happened?
Dave and his teammates are just kinda stuck standing there as those smug rat bastards start celebrating right there on the ice. Dave skates over to Ryan and grabs the other man's jersey. "Did we just fuckin' well loose?"
"Naw, man, we won second place! Stop looking so pissed off, there's cameras everywhere. I don't wanna be dubbed a sore loser."
"Who the fuck cares?" Oh, oh, there it is. That childhood notion that everything is supposed to be rainbows and fuckin' sunshine. He gets the guy and wins the game, right? "This is fuckin' bullshit!"
"Calm down, man. At least we beat Russia. Everyone said they'd take gold and it'd be only silver and bronze up for grabs." Ryan frees his jersey and starts skating towards the rest of their teammates giving Dave that stupid huge smile of his.
"Why the hell aren't you pissed we lost?" Dave asks. He scowls across the rink and starts skating towards center ice where the two teams are lining up to shake hands. Ok, yeah, he's maybe a bit more sour than he should be but come on! It's his first Olympics and everything has actually been going fucking well great this week. If Dave takes a moment he can look up into the crowd and find Kurt Hummel's flushed face cheering and clapping for him.
"Man, do you know how much pussy flashing my silver medal around is gonna net me? I'll tell you how much, as much dick as yours it gonna net you." Ryan waggles his eyebrows ridiculously as he skates into their line. "Or, wait...should I be saying ass instead of dick? I'm never sure with you, big boy."
Yup, that's his best friend. There are days when Dave really regrets feeling bad around knocking two teeth out of Ryan's mouth during the first NHL game Dave actually played. Though it kinda figures that it took buying some dude, at Dave's own insistence, a couple of false teeth to find himself a new best friend. Dave pulls his gloves off and starts to ponder if him being a silver medalist is going to play into the amount of putting out Kurt would be willing to do.
The calm finally settles in. And while Dave is still fuckin' sick over the fact that they lost the simple act of shaking the hands of guys he's had the pleasure, and sometimes displeasure, of knowing over the past years brings him back to himself.
"Deek!" And suddenly there's Aaron skating out of the Canadian's line and launching himself at Dave. "We beat your ass! I will see you back on our ice this weekend, baby. I've missed knowing I've got you watching my back."
"I hate you," Dave grouses as he makes a show of pounding Aaron on the back a little harder than necessary.
"Do not. You're just angry that I'm gonna be the golden boy on the team when we get back and you're the measly numero dos."
"Kiss my ass, bitch."
Aaron just laughs and slips back into his own line. "You wish."
Finishing the line and congratulating the coaches, Dave skates over to where Ryan is lounging against the box. "Holy shit!"
Ryan huffs and looks over. "What's got your panties knotted now?"
"I just spent two weeks playing against the best hockey players in the world. I just won a goddamn silver medal at the goddamn Olympics!"
"And there we are! There's the Karofsky we all know and love."
"Dude, I got laid the last couple-a nights by the guy I had a huge angry gay crush on in high school."
Ryan throws his head back at that and lets out that god awful braying laugh of his.
They're being corralled together again and Dave is suddenly wearing a fuckin' silver medal, holy shit!, and turning towards the crowd to try to search out his folks and Kurt. Thanks to the crush of the crowd angling in for a better look at the Canadian team it's actually surprisingly easy to find them. Smiling widely, he tugs his medal from his neck and lifts it high.
The fact that both his mom and Kurt snap a few pictures is far too pleasing.
"Par-tay in the locker room!"
Dave gives another wave up into the crowd and lets himself be pulled into the group leaving the ice.
The 'par-tay' in the locker room turns into a media frenzy in no time and Dave's suddenly forced to answer the same saccharine questions.
You think they'd be happy the team was bringing home Silver but instead it's all "is there something you could have done better?" and shit.
The loud trill of his cellphone alerts Dave to an incoming text message. He reads the message quickly and doesn't even think twice about cursing loudly amidst the crowd of reporters and video cameras. Goddamn Kurt Hummel. Dave really hopes that his team isn't going to be too pissed over the fact that he's apparently going to be skipping out on the Closing Ceremonies.
Nothing in life is easy, is it?
"Kurt!" Dave calls out uselessly as tries to maneuver his way through the crowd of people waiting for the EuroStar. Were there really that many people who'd made the effort to come see the Olympics but were leaving barely an hour before the Closing Ceremony? Y'know, besides apparently goddamn Kurt Hummel. He briefly regrets having changed out of his hockey gear because he's sure his shoulder pads would have come in handy right now for getting through the crowd. A hockey stick could be useful too.
The sleek, bold outfit finally catches Dave's eye. Dave shamelessly pushes through the last few people standing in his way deciding if anyone complains he'll flash them his medal. Reaching out, Dave grabs onto Kurt's shoulder. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Kurt Hummel trying to make a break for it."
"David!" Kurt looks both surprised and pleased to have been found.
"The one and only."
"So, we're doing this at the train station?" Kurt questions, tugging at his shoulder bag's strap. It's a nervous gesture that Dave bets Kurt doesn't realize he'd be able to pick up on. "Isn't this sort of cliché?"
"Probably. But professional athlete here. I hear we're kinda simple."
Kurt hums and glances around the crowd. "Em sold me out, didn't he?"
"Yup, and all it took was a blowjob." Dave grins when Kurt's wide gaze flies to him. "Joking. And you're jealous." Dave doesn't give Kurt any time to be annoyed as he pulls him in close. "Can't believe you tried to slip away like this."
"You have all your Olympic obligations to deal with. I thought I should-"
"You thought wrong." Pulling back, Dave reaches into his coat pocket to pull out a bag. He watches as Kurt curiously peers in and pulls out the printed maps with directions from Albany to Boston. Kurt quirks an eyebrow in confusion was he finds the coins. "For the tolls," Dave explains. "I want to see you, Kurt, when I get back. I don't want this to be it for us."
"I-I don't either but... We have to look at this logically."
"We're not kids anymore, Dave. Logic is kinda important. This...this won't be easy."
"Nothing good ever is. We could just... We can at least try," Dave says before angling his head down and drawing Kurt into a slow kiss.
"It's not fair that you're so good at this kissing thing," Kurt murmurs against Dave's lips. "Even that first kiss... I was so upset that it was yours and that it was so good that I couldn't not think about it. It was so needy and it took me years before I found anyone else who had wanted me as desperately."
"No you're not."
"No, I'm not," Dave readily agrees. Dave tugs at the red coat and Kurt comes quickly and steps back into Dave's arms. The hand that winds around his neck makes Dave smile.
"When will you be back on US soil?"
And that sounds like magic to Dave's ears. Kurt's question is honest and definitely a little eager. "Three days. Gotta stay for all the 'day after' hype and my publicist made sure I had a down day before the flight home," Dave explains, worming his hand between the layer of clothing to lay flat against the warm skin of Kurt's lower back. "Maybe when I get back we can take some time off together. Go up to a B&B or something in Vermont."
"Oh, shut up."
"What?" Dave questions as he chuckles into Kurt's neck.
"There's gay and then there's B&Bing it up in Vermont." The tone from Kurt was rather tart but Dave could hear the grin seeping in. The fingers that had slipped into Dave's hair were also making no move to pull him away.
"We could elope," Dave jokes, pressing one last kiss to Kurt's neck before pulling back. He wants to make sure Kurt knows he's just kidding...or gauge his reaction. No, no, just joking. He thinks. Probably. Yes. Most definitely. "Get matching white suits from Vera Wang."
Kurt scoffs as he rolls his eyes. The hand on Dave's shoulder pushes him away. "You're such a jerk."
"You love it." Kurt hums again instead of answering and Dave has to admit he loves the sound. Drawing Kurt in again Dave realizes he has to make this kiss count.
Dave could happily just stand there and kiss Kurt forever. But the sudden increase in noise from the platform alerts Dave that the train has arrived to whisk Kurt away to Paris. And from there the airport and then back to New York. Effectively far, far away from Dave.
Kurt frowns at the words flowing from the speakers that Dave can't make heads or tails of besides the few simple ones like 'Paris' and 'maintenant'. The smaller man gathers Dave's right hand between his two and raises it to press a kiss to his fingers. "I really have to..."
"So, I'll see you around?" Dave asks and he's far too pleased when Kurt gives his hand a tight squeeze and rewards Dave with a wide smile.
"Yes. Definitely." Kurt gives one final wave and slips into the crowd with his boarding pass.
Dave smiles as he finally looses sight of the other man because, yeah, he'll definitely be seeing Kurt Hummel again.
A/N: Zomg, fluff. Fluff! I'm not even sorry! Reviews = luff! Any glaring tense or grammatical errors, please feel free to point them out. I really need to look into a beta...