There have been so many amazing Future!Kurtofsky fics out there (Sting, Ivory and Gold, The One I Love, La Vie Boheme, Between the Blue Lines and Room 920 , just to name a few) I'm actually a little intimidated at starting one. But they've also been so inspiring that my muse has been bugging me to try my hand at one.
The title is inspired by words from the prophet Khalil Gibran:
But let there be spaces in your togetherness,
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.
Love one another but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf.
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.
Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.
And stand together, yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow. "
"Kurt, you're late again," nagged his assistant, Darlene. "Your 3 o'clock has been waiting for 10 minutes already!"
"I know, I know," Kurt mumbled, annoyed. "Stefanie Myerson brought every single member of her family to Mira Couture, and we were there for over 5 hours."
"Did she wind up with the perfect dress?" asked Darlene.
Kurt rolled his eyes. "She didn't wind up with a dress, period. She was so set on an sleek sheath dress, but then her family talked her into trying on all these froufy ball gowns and lace-covered princess nightmares. The poor thing didn't know what she wanted by the end, so we left empty handed." He rubbed his temples. "I talked her into an appointment with just the two of us next week. Can you find something for me Wednesday or Thursday-ish, about 2 hours?"
Darlene smiled brightly and waved her pencil."Why sure, boss!" she said in a sugary sweet tone. "I'll just take my magic wand here and bend the time-space continuum for you. It'll just take a sec."
Kurt eyed his purple-haired, fatigue pants wearing assistant dryly. "That's why I pay you the big bucks, of course," he said. "And don't enforce any sort of dress code, even though I really should."
The phone started to trill. "Whatever," Darlene said. They had this argument at least 20 times a week. "You better get in there. Our lovely bride, Rebecca Taylor, is waiting for you with a cup of tea. Her fiancé, Brian Potter, is nowhere to be seen." She picked up the phone without pausing for breath. "Sheer Elegance Event Planning. It's Your Dream Wedding...and We Do! This is Darlene, how may I help you?"
Fabulous, thought Kurt. He'd had his share of grooms that hadn't shown for the initial planning session, and it was usually a dark omen for the rest of the process, with few exceptions. He sometimes thought he should charge the going rate for a therapist, since in these cases he usually spent the first 30 minutes consoling the bride while she agonized about why her fiancé didn't have nearly the interest in the wedding as she did. Don't ask me; I'm a guy, I date guys, and I still don't understand men, he always wanted to say, but kept quiet. He hoped Darlene had replenished the tissue boxes he kept scattered in his office. He plastered a smile on his face and smoothed his lilac silk tie against his dark grey shirt, wishing he'd had time to stop for lunch on the way back. Hoping his stomach wouldn't growl embarrassingly, he opened the door to his office.
Kurt's latest client sat leafing through a portfolio of bridal bouquets, legs crossed casually and what he spotted immediately as an adorable Lanvin pump dangling from one foot. She was smiling, and didn't seem the least bit upset, so Kurt let out a small sigh of relief. "Ms. Taylor?" he said. She looked up, smiling warmly. Kurt extended his hand. "I'm Kurt Hummel, and I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting. I had an appointment that ran terribly late."
"Rebecca, please," she responded. "Or even Becca, if you like. And it's no problem. I cleared all of my afternoon." She met Kurt's hand and shook it firmly. "You're one of the most popular wedding planners in the Chicagoland area, so I figured you'd be busy."
"Well, we're getting there," Kurt said modestly. "But thanks, I appreciate it. You'll get the full hour consultation, of course." He cleared his throat discretely. "Would you like to get started, or shall we wait for Mr. Potter a bit longer?"
"Oh, he won't be able to make it," Rebecca said breezily, obviously not fazed in the least. "But I do have a friend coming to fill in. They should be here soon, but we can go ahead and start."
Kurt sat down at his desk. "Okay. Well, the first thing I like to ask is, how do you see your wedding day? Are you looking for something large, or intimate? Big and splashy, or subtle and tasteful?"
As Rebecca opened up her mouth to speak, a soft knock sounded at the door and it opened a little. "Is it okay to come in?" said a deep, masculine voice. Looks like our groom-to-be made it after all, Kurt thought.
Rebecca leapt up out of her chair. "Of course it is, Dave! Come on in, you're just in time." She ran up to the large, well-built man who entered. Kurt couldn't catch his face at first, as Rebecca's dark hair swung in front of it when she enveloped him in a hug. Those shoulders looked promising, though. And he might even be gay. I mean, how many women have straight male friends who are just dying to talk about buttercream frosting vs. fondant, and what flowers have the most staying power on a hot June day? Kurt shook his head. And apparently, what I really need to have Darlene schedule some time for me for is to get laid. It sure has been a while.
Rebecca was leading her friend towards Kurt by the hand. He looked somewhat familiar, though Kurt couldn't place him. He had warm hazel eyes and an equally warm smile, and those shoulders hadn't lied. The other man's snug black sweater revealed what appeared to be well-formed arms and an expansive chest. "This is the person I was telling you about," she said excitedly. "Kurt Hummel, I'd like you to meet my best friend, Dave Karofsky."
Kurt had started to reach towards Dave's hand automatically, but froze at the name, paling. Dave's eyes went wide with astonishment, and lost his smile instantly. "Kurt?" he asked softly. "Is it really you?"
Kurt nodded, unable to speak for a moment. He was completely and utterly thrown.
"You two know each other?" said Rebecca, sounding quite surprised. She finally noticed Kurt's pallor. "Mr. Hummel, are you okay? You look like you're going to pass out."
Kurt felt like he might pass out. I really should have eaten something, he thought vaguely. The gnawing hunger combined with the shock of seeing Dave again after nearly 13 years had him feeling rather lightheaded indeed. He swayed a bit, and Dave reached out automatically to steady him. Kurt recoiled and bumped into his desk chair, nearly falling into it. He grasped the desk for support instead, trying to breathe normally. "I'm fine," he said, rather unconvincingly.
"No, you're not," said Rebecca. She turned to her friend. "Dave, what's going on? How do you two know each other?" Kurt could easily interpret the look in her eyes; it was obvious she thought he and Dave had hooked up at some point, and it had ended badly. Nope, he thought. He just forced me to kiss him, said that he'd kill me, and made me leave all my friends and individuality behind while I ran away to Conformity Central. That's all.
"Kurt and I went to high school together," Dave said quietly.
"Oh? " Rebecca said, confused. Then she looked at Kurt, and he could feel her eyes scanning him up and down, taking in his coloring, stature and overall appearance for the first time. Her cheeks flushed. "Oh!" She turned to Dave, putting her back to Kurt, but he heard her whisper anyway. "Is he the one…" Dave nodded, and looked down at the floor. She patted Dave's shoulder and gave it a quick rub. "Could you maybe give Mr. Hummel and me a few moments alone, Dave?" she asked.
Dave nodded and quickly exited. She turned to Kurt. "You should probably sit down, Kurt," she said. "Can I call you Kurt?"
Kurt nodded and sat down, and Rebecca did the same. She looked at him with such empathy, much more than he would have thought capable from someone who had just met him. "Yeah," he said, his voice a little rough. "That would be fine."
"I'm so sorry, Kurt," she said sincerely. "It's obvious I've upset you greatly by bringing Dave here. I hope you know that I had no idea you were…" she trailed off. She tried again. "That Dave and you had a history." Kurt nodded, so she continued. "As you've probably figured out, I know all about what he did to you in high school."
Kurt looked away, swallowing. He had tried to put his sophomore year at McKinley behind him, and hadn't really thought of it in years. He was 30 freaking years old, not a scared kid anymore. Why was it affecting him so much?
Rebecca put her hand over Kurt's on the desk, and the movement brought their eyes to meet. "I know he did terrible things. I love him like a brother, Kurt, but even I'm appalled by what he told me about it. I can understand if you don't want me for a client because of it."
Kurt considered, pulling himself out of the past. He really needed all the clients he could get; popular or not, his expenses were nearly as high as his income, and he'd only barely eked out a tiny profit last year after two years of running the business in the red. And Rebecca seemed like such a lovely person, despite her terrible taste in friends. With all the bridezillas he dealt with on a daily basis, the kinder clients who really appreciated his hard work were sometimes the only thing that kept him coming in every day. He tried for a smile. "Well, it's not like I'd have to see Dave that often, I guess. He's just filling in for your fiancé today, right?"
"Brian is a transplant surgeon at the University of Chicago Medical Center," Rebecca said. "He gets called away a lot, and I knew that it would be more miss than hit, him making many of the wedding related appointments. It doesn't bother me, of course; what he does is way more important than what color my bridesmaids will wear or deciding if I should go with an updo or keep my hair down." She withdrew her hand from Kurt's and stood up, pacing a little. "I don't have any family here. I moved to Chicago from San Diego for college and never went back. I need Dave's help, and I need his support." She stopped walking and looked at Kurt. "If you can't be around him - which I totally understand - then I can't work with you. Dave will probably be with me more often than not, and I'm not going to lie and try to tell you any different."
Kurt closed his eyes, logic struggling with emotion. "I appreciate you being honest," he said.
Rebecca tilted her head a little. "Look, it's not my place to even address what happened between you two. But I will say that when Dave and I have been friends since our sophomore year of college, and when he told me about what he'd been like in high school, I couldn't believe it. He's a very different person than he was back then, Kurt. I promise you. I'm just as close to Dave as I am to Brian. That's how much I love and trust him. And I'm damn picky about the companionship I keep." She smiled. "Almost as picky as I am about who I hire to plan important things, like my wedding."
The corner of Kurt's mouth curled up. "Is that so?" he said. It was really hard to resist Rebecca's charming smile and bright blue eyes. He had a feeling that Brian was a lucky guy. And so was Dave, it seemed.
"Absolutely." She grew serious again for a moment. "The last thing I'll say on the matter to try and convince you, is that I know Dave regrets what he did. Maybe more than you can even imagine." She shook her head, chagrined. "But now I'm overstepping myself. This isn't about you and Dave. This is about me."
"You?" Kurt said, amused.
"Yes. I'm the bride, and from what I gather, that means it's all about me." Rebecca was back to smiling widely, an eyebrow arched. "And I want you to plan my wedding, Kurt. You put on the most incredible to-do for my former sorority sister, Krista, last summer. And that bitch didn't even deserve it; she cheated on her husband before the ink was barely dry on the marriage license. I, on the other hand, am marrying the most amazing man in the world, and we're going to be together for the rest of our lives. So my wedding has to be even more magnificent than hers. At least twice as much." She paused, musing. "3 times, maybe even."
Kurt chuckled, won over. "I take it your budget is 3 times as large as hers?" he asked.
Rebecca waved a hand airily. "At least. Do you know how much a transplant surgeon makes? Besides, I'm not exactly struggling myself. I'm a veterinarian in Oak Park, specializing in the tiny dogs of the trendy and well-off."
"Well, in that case, I don't see how I could possibly refuse." Kurt said, amazed to find he was grinning. He felt much better, and while he wasn't thrilled at the thought of seeing Dave regularly, he felt like he could at least be civil and professional. Kurt's smile dimmed a bit, but he was able keep it on, at least for now. "You can tell Dave to come back in, if you like, and we'll try to actually get around to talking about your wedding for a change."
Rebecca went out to get Dave and brought him back in after a few minutes of what Kurt surmised was some kind of discussion. Dave was looking at the floor as he walked in, obviously uncomfortable. He sat down and finally looked up, meeting Kurt's eyes for a moment before darting away. Kurt standing behind his desk one again, sighed. He was the one who had freaked out, so it looked like he would have to be the one to smooth it all over. Luckily, he had had lots of practice of that sort of thing. Diplomacy was quite the necessary skill in his line of work. "Sorry I got so weird before," he said. "It's been a long day, I missed lunch, and seeing you after all this time was a big surprise. Maybe we should start over." He held his hand out to Dave, a mild expression on his face. "It's nice to see you again, Dave. You look well."
Dave looked at Kurt's hand like he'd never seen one before. He tentatively reached out with his own, and after a slight pause, met it. "Thank you," said Dave quietly, as they shook hands. "So do you." He winced, and dropped Kurt's hand awkwardly.
Way to help ease the tension, Karofsky, thought Kurt. He sat down and refocused on Rebecca. "Let's go back to where we were." He smiled at her, and it was returned, gratefully. "The first thing I like to ask is, how do you see your wedding day? Are you looking for something large, or intimate? Big and splashy, or subtle and tasteful? Are we talking Lady Gaga or Audrey Hepburn?"
"Split the difference, and you've got Becca nailed down to a tee," mumbled Dave. Rebecca and Kurt both stared at Dave, who colored a little. He shrugged. "Angelina Jolie, maybe?"
Rebecca started laughing, then punched Dave lightly in the shoulder. "You know me way too well, Dave," she said, then turned to Kurt. "Without the goth side, of course. But yeah. She's so poised and elegant these days, but you know there's a bad girl still bubbling right there, just below the surface."
She and Dave looked at each other fondly, and Kurt was relieved to see the discomfort melt from Dave's features. "That helps a lot, actually," he said. "The first thing we should probably focus on is a location for the reception, since those book out the furthest. We want drama. Presence. But without any tackiness or ostentation. Does that sound right?"
Rebecca looked back at him, pleased as punch. "You are really good at what you do, aren't you, Kurt?"
Feeling back to his usual confident and sassy self, Kurt ran a hand through his hair and smirked. "The best," he said.
Soooo…what do you think? Reviews make my muse put out like the total slut she is, so let me know if you want MOAR! XD