A/N: Happy Halloween! I am so sorry that it's taken me simply forever to post this chapter! I know some explaining is in order. About three days after I posted the last chapter, I boarded a plane and moved from NYC to Prague, Czech Republic for study abroad. I was incredibly naïve and figured I'd have the next part bumped out in no time. But with balancing class, homework, internships, traveling every other weekend, and, of course, partying, that didn't happen. I really have been trying to find the time to write. Thank you so much to everyone that's read and reviewed. I see how many people haven't forgotten this little story and keep checking back for updates, and I really appreciate the support!

Kurt was surrounded by warmth, his mind sleepy in a post-drinking haze. He was comfortable and wanted to stay that way. Even as he slowly moved back into consciousness, he stubbornly kept his eyes closed. Kurt just curled his body into that wonderful heat….

And realized the source of that warmth was moving, rhythmically. Breathing. And that he felt surrounded by its heat because he was physically encircled by two large, thickly muscled arms.


The events of the night before resurfaced sluggishly. Kurt supposed that he had had a few too many shots with the guys.

Huh. And isn't it funny how Eric and the rest of them had already become "the guys" in his mind.

It was a jolt to his system to remember that "the guys" he had been with weren't actually his friends. This impossibly soft yet still quite firm bed wasn't his to sleep in. And the arms currently holding him close as if they'd never let him go would soon have to do just that.

Dave—and perhaps more importantly, Dave's seductive lifestyle with the fabulous friends, the unrivaled split-floor penthouse and the sexy man who had made Kurt feel more wanted and more worshiped with a single blow job than any of Kurt's past boyfriends put together—was not Kurt's to keep.

He might not have been so familiar with this one-night stand thing but even Kurt knew he'd have to soon leave this fantasy behind.

Dave woke up much as he had gone to sleep—with a satisfied smile plastered over his face and a naked Kurt Hummel nestled into his chest. Life was good.

Dave opened his eyes all at once, used to waking himself up early, and fed on the sight of Kurt in his arms. The other man was just so peaceful and precious in his sleep. With his soft, tousled hair, his pale, slightly red-cheeked face relaxed and child-like—Kurt was simply adorable, a porcelain angel for Dave to hold close and protect. He breathed in Kurt's scent and let Kurt's body settle as a comfortable, warm weight against his own. Solid. There.

Dave brushed his right thumb lightly along Kurt's arm—all impossibly soft skin and downy hairs. But otherwise he didn't dare move. Dave was so scared that if he did, if he woke Kurt up, this peaceful moment, this fantasy come true, would just disappear. And he'd suddenly have to face the terrifying "morning after." He couldn't bear to have Kurt reject him. Or worse, write him off as just some drunken mistake. Not when he had Kurt in his arms. Not when he could already imagine all his mornings starting just like this.

Eventually, though, Kurt had to wake up, as Dave knew he would. He could feel the other man stirring—his back becoming a little bit tenser, his facial expression morphing ever so slightly—long before he ever opened his eyes. Dave knew his time with Kurt in his bed was truly limited now but he just kept on holding his body still, his arms clutching softly at that warm flesh above him, keeping Kurt close just a little while longer.

Kurt slowly opened his eyes and Dave could feel his hesitation. He didn't want this to be awkward. He didn't know what to say so that it wouldn't be, so that they could go back to where they were last night. Dave just smiled down at Kurt and hoped it was enough.

Kurt smiled back, turning his face up just the barest inch off of Dave's chest to mumble a sleep-heavy, "G'morning."

That was a good sign, right? Kurt wasn't running away. He wasn't telling Dave that this was all just some mistake. Dave decided to just stop worrying and to take the smile he was offered. "Morning. Sleep okay?"

Kurt nodded his head slowly, the tip of his chin grazing Dave's chest hairs. "Yes. I had a very warm comforter." He said with a somewhat crooked little grin.

On instinct, Dave leaned over to kiss him. He barely managed to brush his lips against Kurt's before the other man was abruptly pulling away, his eyes suddenly wide with what looked to Dave like fear. He felt immediately crushed. Of course, Kurt wouldn't want him or want him to touch him now. The night before was just a drunken encounter, just some letting off of steam and—

"Sorry. Morning breath."

Kurt winced. He was more than a little embarrassed by that admission. His mouth felt cottony and coarse, like it would never be clean again. How unsexy was that. Nothing like waking up to someone whose mouth smelled like disease. But, embarrassed or not, Kurt knew he had to give Dave an explanation. That beautiful, big teddy bear looked so disappointed when he pulled away.

Dave suddenly remembered himself. He had to stop worrying over every little glance Kurt sent his way. He wasn't some girl. He was a successful man, proud and secure in himself. Of course, Kurt would pull away. Lots of people don't like kissing when they first wake up. Dave's morning breath was probably disgusting, made even worse by the fact that he'd dined the night before on Kurt's sweat and cum. He didn't want to disgust Kurt or make him feel self-conscious. But Kurt's mouth was just so wide, this lips so thick and inviting-

He needed to get Kurt (and himself) a toothbrush. Fast.

"You can use my bathroom." The words tumbled out of his mouth. He probably seemed too eager, if the look Kurt was giving him was any indication. Dave quickly tried to back-peddle. "I mean...if you wanted, you could borrow a toothbrush or take a shower or something." Dave winced inwardly. God, he sounded like some awkward teenager.

"Do I really smell that bad?" There was a smile in Kurt's voice but Dave could tell it masked a genuine worry. Kurt had half-started to move off of Dave's body.

Dave reached out and grasped Kurt's arm, keeping his smaller body held against his. "No! I would kiss you right now if I could. I just want you to be comfortable."

"Okay. Well, I guess I could shower." Kurt said with a small smile.

"Great!" Dave was back into over-eager mode but he didn't care. He just wanted to get rid of Kurt's self-consciousness. He wanted them to go back to the way they had been just five minutes earlier—cuddling and sharing warmth.

Dave gently helped Kurt sit up. He couldn't resist pressing a small kiss to Kurt's hair as he did so. Who knew when he'd next get the opportunity? "The bathroom's right through here." He led Kurt from the bedroom into the adjacent master bath.

Dave's bathroom was huge, not that Kurt had come to expect anything less. Still, stepping through that doorway had been like walking into the pages of House Beautiful.

Every detail was perfection and the designer in Kurt couldn't help but notice and appreciate each one. The marble floors. The gleaming, curved steps leading up to an elegant, oversized clawed foot bath. There was definitely room for more than one man in that tub. Wooden detailing here and there gave the room a rustic, manly aura. But, the pièce de résistance was the designer vanity—the deep wood was melded with panes of hand-blown glass, coming together for a very modern look with a surprising amount of detailed carvings. Kurt just knew it was one of a kind.

"It's Michel's."

"Huh?" Damn, Kurt was just making a habit of seeming as inelegant as possible around Dave.

"The vanity—erm, I thought you were looking…Michel made it for me."

"Oh, right. He's a furniture designer. It's very beautiful."

"Yea, I like it too. Makes the room a bit different, y'know?"

"Yes." Kurt smiled over at Dave and Dave seemed to be struck dumb for a moment, just looking back at him with big eyes. Then he visibly shook himself and started moving about the bathroom quickly. Dave was adorable in his earnestness.

"I think I have an extra toothbrush here, somewhere." Dave began opening hidden marble drawers at random. Kurt was amazed at how they fit so well into the walls you would have never noticed there was so much extra storage space: a minimalist look with maximum usability, Kurt approved.

Finally, Dave pulled out an opened package of two toothbrushes, handing the one left in the plastic to Kurt. Kurt noticed that it was the same kind as the brush currently sitting in Dave's main cabinet. He found that endearing—the fact that Dave didn't have stores of supplies at the ready. It meant he didn't usually jump into bed with people. Or let them stay the night, at the very least. And that made Kurt feel special.

"You can use any of my shower stuff if you want."

Kurt put a delicate hand on Dave's shoulder and, facing his eyes, said: "Thanks Dave." He says the words with perhaps a bit too much seriousness and feeling for someone offering to let him shower. But Dave had taken him from crying in a public bathroom to feeling special and wanted, and he deserved all the thanks Kurt could give.

Dave couldn't shake his happy grin as he walked out of the bathroom. He was in absolute awe. There was a gorgeous (and naked!) Kurt Hummel in his bathroom. He didn't think he'd ever get used to seeing Kurt naked—not with all that beautiful pale flesh, that lithe dancer's body. And God, just watching him getting up from his bed (his bed) and walking around with that lovely tight ass, like it was the most normal thing in the world…. Dave had come out so he could have mornings like this. Mm, what a delicious—

{{I looked at the Rubens and Rembrandts…}}

Suddenly Rufus Wainwright's voice started filling up the apartment. It was Jon's special ring on his cell phone. Dave sprang up, trying to find where he had thrown his phone the night before. Rufus' melodious tones led the way.

{{I liked the John Singer Sargeants. He told me he liked Turner…}}

Just as Jon's idol was about to make a pun on the name Turner, Dave found his phone tucked away by one of the side table lamps.

Dave clicked the call button, his face still open in a huge smile.

"Where the hell have you been?" An exasperated voice says into his ear.

"J-Jon?" He sputtered a bit, his smile instantly falling.

"Yes, it's Jon. Honey, you better be decent right now. I know it's Pride and all so I'm letting it go that you missed our morning workout. But, really, there is no way I'm letting you make me late to Rob and Jase's."


"Oh, sweetie. How much did you have last night? Rob and Jase? Their Pride Sunday brunch? We go every year."

"I didn't forget…but right now? I was kinda-"

"Yes, right now. Honestly Dave, it's practically 11 and there is no way I'm letting you miss brunch or the parade. That's simply sacrilege. Now I'm almost at your place. I'm gonna pick up some coffee and I'll be up in like ten, okay?"

"Okay, Jon. I'll see you soon."

"And you better be decent!"

Dave smiled to himself as the line went dead. There was just no arguing with Jon sometimes, especially not on Pride. Jon had lost his religion when his parents disowned him; Pride was the only actual holiday he celebrated and damned if he didn't get as excited as a little kid on Christmas each year. He put his cell phone down on the kitchen counter…and heard the shower running.

He had just invited Jon over when Kurt Hummel, a naked and showering Kurt Hummel, was still in his home. Damn.

"I should leave."

Kurt had wandered out of the bedroom in just a flimsy green towel, hiding nothing. But the second he had heard Jon was coming over, he started tucking himself into his sinfully short shorts. Dave could already feel the loss. It was as if Kurt was putting up a barrier between them.

"No, no stay. We can all celebrate Pride together."

"I can't impose on your plans. I'll go. You have fun with…Jon."

"But you wouldn't be imposing! It's not just gonna be Jon and me. We're meeting up with a bunch of our friends. Really, they'd love to have you around."

Kurt's face took on a wry smile. "And, what, walk of shame it all day? No, I should go home and change." He said with finality.

"Okay…well, where do you live?" Dave almost added, "I could come with you." But even he knew that would sound too needy, too desperate. Truth was—he was feeling a little desperate. Dave was terrified that if he let Kurt leave now, he'd never see him again. That all they had shared last night would just become some cheap one-night stand. Something best left forgotten.

"I'm out in Williamsburg…well, closer to Greenpoint actually, but—"

"Brooklyn? You can't go to Brooklyn now." Dave said that without thinking and on some level he realized his tone of incredulity sounded a lot like Jon's. Kurt just gave him a look and started talking at a slow pace, "But Brooklyn is where I live…"

"Yea, but there's nothing out there. Half the gay world is coming to Manhattan right now. All the subways are gonna be packed. C'mon, it'll take you at least 2 hours to go there and back, not to mention however long it takes a Fancy guy like you to choose an outfit. By that time it'll be hard to find a spot and you'll miss most of the parade!" Okay, so he definitely sounded like Jon right then. Perhaps they were spending too much time together…

Kurt looked like he was wavering. He was holding up his little grey shirt but he still hadn't put it on. Dave could only assume that was a good sign.

"But, Pride is like the gay event of the year and I have nothing to wear except this."

"Well. You could always switch it up and just wear the shorts." Dave said with a slight grin.

Kurt snorted out a little laugh and Dave took a step closer.

"You certainly wouldn't be the only guy without a shirt." Another step forward. Dave quirked one of his naturally perfect eyebrows. "Or you could just scrap the outfit altogether, borrow one of my jockstraps." Dave's voice turned into a low, almost growl at that image. "Make every guy jealous."

He reached out and put a hand around Kurt's denim clad hips then leaned down for a kiss. Kurt tilted his head up and responded eagerly. Kurt's bare chest, warm from his shower, was brushing against Dave's much larger, solid torso through the thin material of his tee. Pulling Kurt closer against him, Dave nearly encircled his smaller, almost petite, frame…

Suddenly Dave could hear the tiny ding of the elevator doors opening, but he wasn't ready to let go of Kurt. He stubbornly tried to keep the smaller man in his embrace for as long as possible and deepened the kiss. A second later, though, Kurt tensed in his arms and pulled away. Jon was knocking at the door.

"Dave? You've had ample warning so I'm coming in whether you're decent or not." Even across the large living room and through the thick oak door, Dave could hear the smile in Jon's voice.

Kurt's eyes went wide as they both heard a key being put into the lock. He quickly threw on his grey shirt and, before Dave could say anything to stop him, disappeared back into the bedroom.

Dave hated that Kurt felt that uncomfortable, but even he understood how someone could be intimidated by Jon. Hell, Dave was just glad he had taken the time to throw on some boxers and a t-shirt. Not that he had anything Jon hadn't seen before…or, for that matter, had inside of him. But Dave didn't want to know how Jon would react if he hadn't even bothered to put something on.

"Hey there." Dave turned. Jon looked radiant as he walked through the door, carrying a to-go tray with two steaming 'venti' mugs from Starbucks and holding a large bag over one shoulder. His smile was huge and toothy, more of a grin really. And it had the effect of making the 28-year-old, infinitely experienced model look like an innocent child.

Dave crossed the living room and took the tray off of Jon's hands. "Hey yourself." The two shared quick cheek kisses. It was how they always greeted each other. At first, it had weirded Dave out. For, as far as he had come in accepting himself, he still wasn't altogether comfortable with having a guy kiss him on the cheek in public. But Jon, stubborn as ever, kept doing it and Dave was kind of glad he never let up. Those little shows of affection really did help him feel happier in his own skin. And the difference between how he would treat his boyfriends before and after he met Jon was remarkable. Dave was like a different person, a more well-adjusted, more open lover.

"Mm, Happy Pride honey." Jon slung his bag over one of the kitchen stools at the bar, as if he was in his own home.

"You would not believe the kind of line I had to wait on at Starbucks. I swear, every queen and their hag is standing on your corner, waiting for their iced caramel macchiatos." Jon gave a little theatrical shudder.

Dave snorted out a quick, one-syllable laugh. "I'm sure. Thanks for getting these, though." He reached over and absentmindedly played with the lid of his no doubt double shot latte. No sugar or sweetener but a little dash of cinnamon, just as he liked it.

Jon shrugged, dismissing Dave's thanks. He reached over for his own cup from the tray and took a long sip. "So," he looked up at Dave and quirked an eyebrow into a playful leer, "how was the rest of your night?"

Dave blushed hotly, he couldn't help it. Jon just leaned forward, his eyes just begging for details. "That good?"

Dave desperately tried to control the burning of his face. Normally, he'd tell Jon everything—from how in shock he still was about not only seeing Kurt after so many years but getting to talk to him, getting to bring him back to his home, into his life, and then the sex itself. Dave had never received a blow job that amazing before. He felt like his whole essence had just drained into Kurt. …But, knowing Kurt could very well be listening in from the next room over, Dave just said: "Yea, it was something special."

Jon, bless him, picked up on his hesitation right away. He straightened his back a bit and mouthed the words, "Is he still here?" At Dave's insistent nod, Jon relaxed his curiosity, even if he did look a bit disappointed.

"So," Dave cleared his throat, "what about your night? What'd you end up doing?" He asked, in a not-so-subtle move to get the conversation away from him and Kurt.

Jon rolled his eyes as if to say, 'Not smooth, Dave, but I'll let you get away with it this time.' "I went home with the red angel."

Dave chuckled, genuinely amused. "Sounds like you two really got on a first name basis."

"Oh, who can remember these things? His name was…Trevor? Travis? It's something with a T anyway." At Dave's look, Jon held up his hands in a shrug. "He had a nice dick." He offered, as if proud to have remembered that much. Dave just shook his head, pretending to be stern.

"So what happened to your red angel this morning? Did you kick him out of bed at 6 so you could work out?" He asked, with a smile in his voice.

"God no…. I got rid of him last night. There was no way I was dealing with a potentially awkward morning after on Pride. Mm mm, no way." Jon cut Dave a look that clearly said, 'And you shouldn't have either.'

The look Dave gave him after that wasn't pretending to be stern. It was the face you most often see a parent give a stubborn child, the one that clearly says, 'Be nice.' The two held each other's gaze for a moment before Jon backed down with a simple shrug. They were used to communicating primarily through bodily language and there was no confusion over what that exchange had meant. Jon had committed himself to playing the happy-for-his-best-friend third wheel for the rest of the afternoon, or until he found a suitable guy for himself at the festivities.

Jon pitched his voice into a whisper. "So where is the illustrious Kurt now?"

"He's still in the bedroom."

"Oh? Did I… interrupt?" Sex infused Jon's voice.

Dave just gave a small smile and shook his head. "Nothing like that. I think he's ashamed to come out with what he was wearing yesterday."

Jon dropped his mock leer and looked genuinely baffled. "Why? The fact that he's here at this hour when you clearly haven't bothered getting dressed to go out—don't think I hadn't noticed that by the way—leaves no doubt as to the fact that he didn't go home last night. What does it matter what he wears?"

"I don't know…I guess he's just not used to this whole thing… Hell, I'm not used to this!"

"I know. Look at you. 'Saint Dave' taking a guy home straight from the club? …Please let me be the one to tell Eric about this."

Dave laughed under his breath, still trying to keep his voice down to a whisper. "No you cannot. And this isn't like me! I don't know what I'm doing, Jon." The smile he let out belied any hint of worry those words might have signified. David was beaming, there were no ways around it. And bringing Kurt home last night had put that smile on this face.

Jon felt his own face melting into a smile. He couldn't help but be happy seeing Dave look so bright. "I'll tell you what you're going to do. You're going to get that self-conscious guy of yours out of the bedroom and we are going to get ready for Pride."

A/N—I'm sorry that this bit is so short! I was planning to end my hiatus with a very long chapter on the boys' various Pride adventures. But I hate that I haven't posted in two months and I wanted to end my silence. The next part should be out soon!