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22 March 2011 @ 07:04 am
Of Comic Cons, Cacti, Rock Stars, & Hard Candy: A Kurtofsky Love Story Part 3/?  
Title: Of Comic Cons, Cacti, Rock Stars & Hard Candy: A Kurtofsky Love Story
Author: Celesteennui
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 8433/19148 so far
Spoilers: The farther season two progresses, the greater the chances are you'll read something that qualifies as spoiler. Sorry…Wait, no I’m not! Go watch your Glee, people!
Characters/Pairings: Main—Dave Karofsky and Kurt Hummel. Supporting—OC Kyle Queen, OC Jude Bower, Noah Puckerman, Finn Hudson, Rachel Berry, Santana Lopez, OC Nathan Channing and lots of other OCs because this is a FutureFic. Dave/Kurt battling it out against Dave/Nathan.
Summary: FutureFic. Dave Karofsky has a life he’d never thought possible. He’s out and proud, has a flourishing career, an amazing circle of friends, and he is neither chubby nor balding despite his worst fears. It’s the perfect life—right up until his boyfriend decides to break up with him. By text. On his birthday. It’s on the rebound from this debilitating blow to his pride that Dave’s path crosses with that of the last person he ever expected to see again; the guy whom he loved and loathed in high school and the guy that he drove away with his own idiocy: Kurt Hummel. Despite those old wounds, though, a friendship somehow blossoms between Dave and Kurt, one that might do more than ease Dave’s conscience over his high school antics—if he can let it. A How-To-Guide on getting over a bad relationship all wrapped up in humor, drama, insanity and tied with a smutty bow.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and I make no money from this artistic venture, it is done for the pure enjoyment of writing about one of my favorite shows. Constructive criticism from readers is greatly appreciated and I hope that you enjoy this chapter.
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Author’s Note: Hi, guys, um...I really only wanted do one thing with this little post, and that was to make a plea to anyone out there to avoid the "ship wars" as they're calling the little rivalries between the Klainers, the Kurtofskians, the Kummers, and the Kinners. It's not worth it guys, and it's especially not worth it to send angry letters to RIB and company telling them how dissatisfied you are with their decisions. It's childish, end of story, and I know that us Kurtofskians are better than that. So, no matter how upset you were with the Klaine developments of the last episode, don't let it get you down and most certainly don't let it pull you into any unnecessary drama. I know you're all too awesome for it. :)
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Despite his writer's imaginative heart, Dave really was a rational human being who let his head take charge ninety-nine percent of the time. Even as a kid he had always put more stock in what he could see rather than what he felt; which, coincidently, was why neither Santa nor the Easter Bunny were mentioned in the Karofsky household long after Dave turned six or seven. Aside from his messy teenage years where logic was a foreign language (and, really, what kid between thirteen and nineteen had ever possessed a clear head?) he usually made pretty good judgments. After all, he had to be doing something right to have a thriving career and a personal life that wasn't always in shambles.

Or at least he thought that up until his twenty-seventh birthday came and Dave realized he'd wasted more than a year of his life on someone he kind of hated.

As the hangover set in and he made a little nest by his toilet during the wee hours of November 20th, it really struck Dave, like his cheek against the porcelain as he struggled to keep his vomit off the floor, how much of a cock Nathan really was. The bitch hadn't put an honest day's work into jack-shit his entire life. Every other word that came out of his mouth was some sort of asinine backhanded compliment which Nathan consciously flung; he wasn't just a spoiled socially retarded brat, he was a proud fucking cunt. Problem was Nathan had absolutely no right to be proud.

Dave had dated many a snotty shit but up until Nathan Channing each and every one of them had had something to be snotty about. Difficult majors, thriving careers, actual fucking lives. Nathan wasn't bad looking, decent in bed, had a job gift-wrapped from mommy that he didn't even care about and lived, more or less, at her feet. So, really, Nathan didn't have anything going on that warranted so much as an eye roll from Dave.

And yet Nathan was the one who had done the dumping. Which, of course, led Dave to the million-dollar question: what the fuck was wrong with him?

Since he and Kyle had gone on a work binge in late October/early November, they were finished the Dead Gods Saga. There was a miniscule amount tweaking to be done, but Dave still saw the fruit of his and Kyle's artistic frenzy as a more than adequate excuse to take a personal break. Or, more specifically, he saw it as the universe putting its stamp of approval on him holing up in his room to ride out his depression with pen, paper, and practically no outside contact.

The day after his birthday, when they'd found out what had happened, both his best friends had made it their duty to take care of utterly everything he needed. Jude stayed over the 20th and 21st, doing Dave's unpacking for him and making sure that Kyle didn't leave the house to commit homicide. Kyle, after she was talked out of bludgeoning Nathan to death with his own femur, started cooking, her second favorite way to work out aggression. The house smelled like pão de queijo, griots, riz djon-djon, champ, esfiha, kugel and pretty much every other dish she knew how to make for days after she'd broken away from the stove.

Had he not been so intent on moping, Dave would have taken the time to appreciate Kyle's delicious gifts rather than simply stuffing his face and putting the tray in the hall before grabbing his pen again. Honestly, when his state of mind cleared up later on, he would have to give his BFF props for not tiring of his shit sooner than she did; Kyle, it seemed, was an even more patient woman than Dave had ever given her credit for. Jude too, for the little Dave spoke to him over those ten days, never once showed frustration with him. Yes, Kyle and Jude were more than supportive and loving…for the first week and a half. Around day eleven of Dave's I-hate-myself-and-shall-never-leave-this-room-or-maybe-even-shower-again pity party, though, the two of them began to run a little dry on the sympathy.

Still, they handled him gently, in the beginning, trying to coax him back out into the world with bribes. Little things like movies, video games, and books that Dave really liked, dangled before his door in exchange for going downstairs. Jude offered to be the DD on every bar crawl for a year while Kyle even promised that she would never complain about his incompetence when it came to laundry ever again. None of their well-meaning ploys got him to so much as raise his head, though, and in fact only encouraged Dave to fuck up his sleep schedule in brand new ways so that he wouldn't even be awake when Kyle was. That miniature war lasted about five days, so around December 4th Jude and Kyle were pretty much done "babying" him.

Dave was sitting on the floor by his bed, basically surrounded by a pile of notebooks that were filled with the ironic combination of the most stagnant and deep stuff he'd written in years, when the fateful bang to his door came. He couldn't see who it was, his door and Kyle's had glass panels in them so for perfect privacy they'd hung curtains over the frames to close whenever desired. At that time, of course, the curtains were very firmly yanked together and the door locked. He knew Kyle and Jude were standing out in the hall, though, even if he couldn't see their shoes or faces pressed to the glass trying to get a look at him.

"Go away," he ordered, without looking up. While Dave really did hope that they would listen he also knew that it was a vain prayer to really expect that they would.

"Athos, come on," Kyle pleaded, voice muffled from the glass, wood, fabric and space between them. "You haven't been out in the light of day for like three weeks! It's fuckin' unhealthy."

"Fuck off, Kyle."

"Davey!" It was Jude's turn, of course. "Please open up. Maggie's here. She brought baked mac'n'cheese!"

"The kind with the crumblies on it!" a third voice, Maggie by the soft, delicate tone, interjected.

"Did you hear that? Crumblies! Why don't you come out and eat it with us?" Dave wasn't sure what irked him more, the fact that Jude and Kyle had resorted to using Maggie in their ploys, or the fact that they somehow thought that food would just lure him out of his hiding place. Like he was a goddamned animal, though, to be honest, Maggie's baked mac'n'cheese was the shit…

"You know," he growled, still not putting down his pen (though the writing had, for the moment, stopped). "The term 'Bear' in the gay community does not mean a big burly somvabitch who'll follow the scent of a picnic basket up a tree."

"…If picnic basket is a new euphemism for ass, now, then yes it does."

"Oh, Jesus…"

"Really, Kyle? That was fucking awful."

"Awfully awesome, you mean."

"No."

"Not a bit."

There was a split second after that last sentence came out of Dave's mouth when he knew what Kyle was going to retort, knew. Like she had telepathically linked with him and he heard it before the giggling even started, and yet he still, despite his best efforts, couldn't completely choke back his guffaw of laughter. It was the first time he'd laughed in weeks and it felt wonderful. Nonetheless, he was in a pigheaded sort of rut and felt pretty obligated to resent his BFF cracking his angst shell on principle, so he resumed his scowling within a second. Unfortunately even Jude and Maggie's groans had not camouflaged his slip.

"I heard happy!" Kyle exclaimed in triumph. "You still have a soul! Now open the door!"

"Please?" Maggie threw that in, always trying (futilely) to keep the peace.

"No!" he growled. "I am fine, God dammit! Can't a guy just get some alone time?"

"Dave—" Jude started what sounded like was going to be a longwinded, vaguely emotional speech but luckily for Dave's stomach, but unluckily for Dave's nerves, Kyle aborted that.

"You know what, fuck this, Aramis. I am done playing this game. We are going to Plan B. Move your ass."

"Kylie…" Maggie again, sounding very nervous. Dave only got a second to contemplate why Maggie might be nervous when there were series of sharp clicking noises along with the rattling of the door handles and shaking curtains, before the oak framed glass was thrown wide. Kyle, followed closely by Jude (Maggie, her gray-green eyes wide, was staying in the hall) strode into Dave's bedroom, pocketing the jackknife she'd used to pick his lock.

Dave bounced to his feet at once, indignant to the extreme over Kyle's invasion of his privacy. They had rules about going into one another's spaces uninvited, rules that Kyle and he had put down when they were sharing a dorm room nine years beforehand. He was even angrier at Jude for letting her do it since that asshole was the self-proclaimed "mediator" of their little circle.

"What the actual FUCK, you two!" he all but roared.

"Davey, please," Jude said. He at least had the sense to look sorry, holding up his hands and keeping a safe distance. "Just—just hear us out, hon. Look, we know you're upset. You just ended a fourteen month relationship—"

"With a total fuckwit who never deserved a second of your time." Unlike Jude Kyle was not so good at common sense. At least when it came to handling emotional situations and particularly those she had strong opinions about. A little voice in the back of Dave's head reminded him that her in-your-face honesty was what he normally liked best about Kyle. Probably to keep him from cunt punching her so hard that her ovaries blew out her ass right at the moment.

"Kyle, I swear to God, I—"

"Oh, holy fuck!" It was, surprisingly, Jude who interrupted this time as he covered his mouth and nose with both hands.

"What?" he demanded.

"Dude, you reek," Kyle said pinching her nostrils shut. "When in the hell was your last shower?"

Dave knew, really, that despite their (Kyle's) rather dickish way of bringing it up, he probably was on the ripe side of fresh. Getting into a depressed, somewhat insomniac state where you hardly noticed how many days had passed could make a guy forget things like hygiene. Which, later on, given how serious he usually was about keeping things neat, would utterly horrify Dave. For the time being, however, he was moody, hypersensitive and the last person on Earth who gave a flying fuck about how he smelled. Not to mention it sort of, well, more like really, stung that the two people he loved most in the world and vice versa, picked on that like two seconds into seeing him face to face for the first time in days.

"Out. Out! OUT!" he shouted, not caring in the least how his behavior was making poor Maggie shrink against the wall, hands over her head. Later, Dave would feel absolutely terrible about that; long story short: Maggie had had an abusive boyfriend or two so as little as an angry voice could make the poor thing catatonic on a bad day.

Kyle and Jude, however, were not delicate things like Maggie, and even with Dave bellowing in their faces, they didn't so much as bat an eyelash. Well, they flinched when he got closer but even as angry as he was Dave knew that was an involuntary reaction to his body odor and that they weren't even slightly intimidated. That fact was further affirmed when, after he'd stopped yelling and was just standing there red-faced and gesturing wildly for them to go, they exchanged very bland looks.

"Legs or arms, Skinny?" Kyle asked Jude as she removed her heavy hoop earrings.

"Legs," Jude replied with a nod, shrugging off his jacket. "Kicking's never been his strong point."

"Goody."

The following half-hour to forty-five minutes right after was sort of a blur for Dave, and not just because Kyle's running tackle had knocked something out of him; though, undoubtedly it was part. Kyle was five-eleven and about two-hundred-seventy-five pounds of pretty-but-grew-up-with-eight-fucking-brothers you just didn't underestimate and Jude, for his slender frame had the grip of a pit-bull in his fingers. So, when she managed to wrangle Dave's arms behind his back and restrain them with his own shirt while Jude did more or less the same by twisting Dave's pants off, Dave (at least subconsciously) knew he'd lost. He still flailed and hollered and did his best to decimate the both of them, as any self-respecting man would while being forcibly hogtied.

Though, his lack of self-respect was what had gotten him naked and throttled in the first place, so…

They dragged him, kicking and screaming, to his bathroom and dumped him in the shower before turning the cold water on full blast. While the icy torrent definitely helped to awaken Dave's common sense at the same time it had also did not soothe his temper. About ten more minutes' worth of yelling, peppered with some shoving and then he was crying like five-year-old while rocking on the shower floor over what an even bigger loser he was for dating one like Nathan.

Once the tears were out Dave was, predictably, much calmer, though, still very out of it thanks to the adrenaline rush and lack of sleep that had been dogging him the past few weeks. He remembered Jude and Kyle hugging him, telling him that they were there and everything would be okay and then he was reclining in a bubble bath while his friends sanitized his room. Maybe it was the fuck-ton of lavender-chamomile oil that Kyle had dumped into the bathwater but Dave was feeling much better (saner).

He wasn't sure how long he had been soaking before the sounds of shuffling booklets and Lysol went away, but it felt like a long time. By the time Kyle returned to check on him the water was lukewarm, though he didn't mind it.

"Hey." She leaned against the door after it had been closed behind her.

"Hey." His return was halfhearted out of shame. Not because he was sitting naked in the bathtub while something with a vagina was in the room, hardly. Kyle and he had seen each other in far worse states than naked and they'd been way too close for way too long for skin to bother either of them. Dave was mostly just feeling the weight of what an ass he'd been for over a fortnight.

"Want me to wash your hair?"

"You don't have to."

"Sure I do. Hag's gotta take care of her Fag. Sit your ass up, Athos, I'll grab a seat."

Dave didn't respond to that, he simply scooted farther up into the curve of the slipper tub, which, given his height, wasn't too much of a move. Kyle returned just as he'd leaned back again, his desk chair in tow. She parked that right behind him and plopped down, setting an unfamiliar plastic bottle on the floor beside her.

"Are you washing my hair with baby shampoo?" he asked, watching through half-open eyes as Kyle tipped the bottle to her palm and squirted a generous amount of viscous purple gel into it.

"Hey, the label says 'for all ages'," Kyle told him as aforementioned purple gel was slathered into his scalp by Kyle's very talented fingers. Not for the first time, Dave wondered if all visual artists were as good with their hands as his BFF was. Kyle, he often speculated, could rub vegetarianism into a goddamn shark. "'Sides, it was either that or mine, and I'm not wasting the good shit on you."

Dave chuckled then remembered just why she'd be washing his hair with something different; Nathan had picked out his old hair stuff. To be quite honest it had never been a big deal to him what he washed up with so long as it left things clean and didn't lead to dander. Nathan had cared, though, but then again Nathan cared a lot about things Dave dubbed ridiculous. Since it was an item of inane bullshit, and inane bullshit wasn't worth ruining the hatefucking, Dave hadn't cared when all of his generic toiletries had been replaced by a line of Axe crap.

"Tomorrow we'll hit the store," Kyle said, her fingers continuing to work pure joy into his scalp. "We need to finish Christmas shopping anyway if we're going to Nevada on the 14th."

"I don't need to go Christmas shopping," he said, pretending like he wasn't just trying to avoid leaving the house as he smirked at his best friend. "I got my holiday shopping done in September."

"Well, then…someone has to carry my bags," Kyle chuckled. "And that someone is you, bitch." After a moment she added, more seriously, "You can't let that asshat take anymore of your time, Athos. He's already had a year too much."

Dave winced; he had sincerely hoped that they wouldn't be having this conversation. It was a stupid, stupid hope, a self-destructive hope, but he really seemed to be into those anymore. So, in an attempt to break the habit, Dave went ahead and gave voice to the question that had been constantly burning beneath his skin for going on three weeks.

"What the fuck is wrong with me, Kyle?" Dave hated himself so much right then that it was near indescribable. How small and broken his voice sounded, how more tears were forming in the corners of his eyes, and especially, how fucking honest it all was. He felt like such a bitch.

Behind him, Dave heard Kyle sigh right before the warmth of her arms settled around his shoulders. Leaning forward in her chair she didn't seem to mind her tee getting a little wet as she hugged him as tightly as the angle and her body strength would permit. Dave's eyes stung even more and he surely didn't feel less like a big baby but somehow the will to give a shit about any of that was fading.

"Listen up, you big dumb fuck," Kyle said, her own voice just a little thick, "'Cause if I have to tell you twice, I'm going to knee you in the crotch so hard your dick'll become an oversized clit." Her cheek pressed against his as she spoke, the closeness almost making Dave feel like he was hearing the vibrations of her words come through him rather than to him. "There is nothing wrong with you, okay? Nothing. You wanna be loved, Davey, that's just part of the fucking human condition. At least the normal human condition."

He scoffed. "It cannot be normal—or healthy—to stay with some douche-bag for over a year just because it's convenient."

"Whoever said normal was healthy?" Another sigh escaped, tickling his due-for-a-trim sideburns. "When's the human race ever been fucking healthy, man?"

"You and Jude don't exactly go out looking for shitty relationships," he pointed out, almost petulantly.

Kyle growled and butted the side of his head with her own. It was playful, of course, but her lack of amusement got through nonetheless. "Davey, Jude and I are like the last people I would ever look to as role models. For starters we both know that Aramis is the king of fucked-up-but-oh-so-awesome-at-hiding-it. I've been waiting for him to climb a clock with a semiautomatic for years. And me?" She snorted. "Have you not seen me avoid intimacy like the plague? The idea of fucking a dude then talking to him like a person after makes me physically ill. And no jokes—" his best friend twisted awkwardly in her seat so that he couldn't avoid her glare, "—this is serious time, mister."

"So bringing up the time you vomited on Nick Kirby's co—" Kyle stopped his pithy retort by grabbing his nose (kind of hard) and dialing up her bitch-face.

"Shut it," she said. "Shut up right now or I'll drown you and there isn't a jury in the world that would convict me." Her fingers eased off his now sore nose and she resumed her former position, arms tighter than ever around his shoulders. "Point is, you're human ergo mistakes will be made. Just, you know, learn from this one; maybe don't try so hard to fall in love. S'called 'falling' for a reason, right? More importantly, the sun's going to keep rising no matter what's going on with you, so rise and fucking shine."

"That may be the cheesiest—"

"And most importantly—" Kyle's voice rose a few decibels to drown him out. The light in her dark blue eyes suggested she was seriously considering shoving Dave's head beneath the bathwater if he kept giggling at her. For a moment, anyway, in the next few seconds she let out a sigh before dropping her head down rest in the hollow of his shoulder.

"And most importantly," she continued as if he'd kept the cheek to himself, "you are loved." There was a new glimmer in Kyle's gaze, one that made the space beneath Dave's ribs ache in a very good way. He squeezed her hand, hoping that his best friend felt even a fraction of all the warmth he felt in that small gesture, and she kissed his cheek. "By me, by Jude, by Maggie, Bryce, Rafe just…a fuckton of people, baby. I mean, shit, you're my parents' favorite kid." He had to laugh at that, it may not have been true but that combined with the fact that Ophélie and Herbert did seem to fuss over him the most, made him feel pretty damn good. Though, considering Kyle and all eight of her brothers were all on the loud, obnoxious and scrappy side, Dave didn't really have much competition—especially since the Queens hadn't suffered through his teenage years. "So, even if Prince Charming doesn't come along, you're not going to die alone and unmourned. In fact, I bet before he climbs that clock tower Jude takes us out first."

"So we all get to hell at the same time?" Dave asked, wondering just what Freud would have to say about how Kyle's macabre sentiment honestly offered him a good deal of comfort.

"More or less," she chuckled. "My bet would be that it's just going to be you or me who initiates the massacre with some shit-talk." A last, lingering peck was pressed to Dave's jaw before Kyle's arms pulled away and she sat back up. "Right then, pep talk's done, let's rinse then go downstairs. Maggie's macaroni is gonna pair up awesome with a ham'n'swiss and that peach vino we got in Montreal."

"Can we drink the wine in coffee mugs like classy people?" he asked, passing Kyle the hand sprayer and dutifully tilting his head back.

"Mismatched coffee mugs, baby. We'll be super-classy."

"I love you, Kyle." And he really, really did.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

The pep talk along with a few smacks upside the head from both of his best friends had Dave feeling almost normal two days after. Well, not really normal, more like…wiser, better, and much more wary of just what in the hell he was doing. Dave promised himself that he was done being on constant watch for his soul mate; like Kyle had said you fell in love, you didn't try and jump it. His friends and family did a pretty good job of reminding him just how good things were for him too.

He didn't think of Nathan once over the holidays, even though he'd been sure the little bastard would plague him given their last fight but Dave, however, was too busy enjoying the holidays for that. Kyle's parents were respectively, a Catholic and a Jew, (all of their nine kids, ironically, were Agnostic) so Christmas and Hanukkah were both celebrated at their home, which meant ten days of family time. Surprisingly, thanks to "family time" meaning that you did pretty much whatever as long as some members of the family were with you, it was a pretty sweat deal.

Kyle's brothers, like her parents, had accepted Dave into the fold pretty much from day one. There had been a little friction between him, Ernesto and Edwin (affectionately called "Set One" in the Queens' house) but that faded once he realized they gave him crap because they liked him. He had a really strong rapport with all of the Queens, particularly the kids. Ernie, Eddie, Geoff, and Jimmy were all in the parent club and their children, were goddamn adorable little hell raisers who worshipped he and Kyle. Most of the trip for Dave was playing games, building forts, and helping to bake cookies for Santa, all of which he adored.

Two days after Christmas Dave and Kyle flew back into New Haven to attend Maggie's New Year's party. Again, Nathan was the furthest thing from his mind while he drank and danced with his friends. There was no bitchy-boyfriend drama to keep him sulking in a corner or to distract him from First Kiss, which, given his, Kyle's, and Jude's states of inebriation, was extra messy (he was pretty sure Kyle licked his eyeball at one point).

Everything seemed to be perfectly back on track. He and Kyle put the finishing touches on the Dead God's Saga and got to make Annabeth's life a little bit miserable during the editing process. She couldn't hold anything against them, though, not when there were Harvey, Inkpot and Eisner whispers along with one hell of a fan reception; according to a Saladin accountant that the final issue set a company record.

It was after the Inkpot consideration had been dropped at the Massachusetts Central Con that they decided to celebrate their success with a night out to Saguaro. Or really, their friends decided for them. Jude and Claire ambushed the two of them near the end of January, demanding they get dressed up for a night out, citing some bogus Vince issues for Claire, and found the whole group at Saguaro, Bryce and Maggie even waving signs that had "Congrats!" emblazoned on them in glittery paint. Thus began one of the greatest evenings of Dave's life.

"To my best friends, David and Kyle!" Jude, normally so quiet, roared above the crowd as their waitress/pretty-good acquaintance, Tiff, brought over the third round of shots he was buying. "May they remember us little people after they clean out Comic Con International a second time!"

Hell yeah's, here-here's and woo-hoo's exploded in the air around the booth as all ten people slammed down their Goldschläger. Claire, Darren, and Maggie only choked a little on this round, perhaps because they were getting, slowly, used to the "harder" stuff, or maybe because the cinnamon aftertaste didn't sting the way that the tequila or the bourbon had. Still, all three of them were pretty eager to get the other drinks Tiff carried.

"Ease up, bitches, you'll get yours," Tiff growled, slapping at Darren's hand as it went for her tray. She tossed her purple head and glared at all of them. "I swear if you people didn't tip so good I'd break your grabby little hands. Piña Colada?" Phrased as a question she still slid the drink to Bryce before he'd said anything.

"Merci," Bryce slid a ten back and caught Rafe's Hayride in return. He passed the drink along to his husband with a kiss that had he and Kyle exchanging gag looks. Ever since Rafe had managed to bribe someone or whatever it was that he did to get off the no-fly list and whisk Bryce to Australia for Christmas the pair had been extra sickeningly sweet.

"PDA, motherfuckers." Darren tossed the cherry from his amaretto sour at them.

They broke apart at the lips but Bryce didn't move off of Rafe's lap and to further annoy Darren Rafe took the cherry and began dangling it provocatively in front of his husband.

"You two are awful," Claire said, though, by her giggling, it was easy to tell she didn't mean it.

"Agreed." Vince did mean it. Vince was a permanent grouch—in an endearing way, though. Claire always said that he was a kitten in bed, despite the crotchety routine; the group, more or less unanimously agreed to take her word for it. Claire was the kinky type who would film shit then send it out to everyone via email under an innocuous headline like "Birthday Party" or "Baby's First Steps". No one, not even Jude, bisexual slut-king that he was, ever wanted to see Vince's hairy, ginger ass getting pounded over the kitchen table by his seemingly delicate transvestite lover. Never again.

After Tiff was done passing out drinks and had sauntered off for the time being, the air at the table quieted just a bit, as everyone settled back to nurse their drinks and chitchat. Dave was gushing to Maggie on what an honor it was just to be mentioned by some of the people on panel for the awards this year, when Neil's drink interrupted everything. It was a neon shade of pink, practically giving off its own light, in a martini glass with a rim crusted in what could have been blue glitter, and a chunk of star fruit on the side as garnish. He caught Kyle's eye and saw practically every thought going through his own head in them.

"What the actual fuck is that?" Kyle voiced the question Dave was just barely keeping in.

"What?" Neil looked confusedly between the two of them.

"That." Dave leaned across the table to flick the base of Neil's glass.

Neil rolled his eyes. "It's a Cotton Candy Cosmo."

"It's the pinkest thing I've ever seen," Claire murmured. "And I've been in the drag circuit for seven years." She prodded the glass' rim with a delicate nail, chipping away some of the blue to taste. "Mmm…blueberry…"

"It's the gayest thing I've ever seen," Dave said. "Holy fucking—I have had cock in my mouth and somehow that is less gay than what you are holding in your hand, Neil."

"You are so fuckin' immature."

"Dude, no, he's got you," Darren said. "Us fags would know, baby." He gestured between himself, Dave, Bryce, Claire, Vince, and Rafe. "You are drinking distilled homosexual."

Neil laughed. "Well, if it turns me, you'll be the first to know, sweet cheeks." He took a drink and shook his head at them. "I swear, this, this conversation right here, is why straight guys and gay guys can't normally be friends. Man can't have a drink 'round here without bein' judged."

"I thought it was the whole sizing-you-up-in-the-restroom thing?" Darren asked.

"That's just you, Darren," Neil deadpanned.

"Ooh, fair enough…"

"On that note…I wanna dance!" Kyle announced loudly. She downed what was left of her Guinness and nudged both Dave and Jude. "Both of you, c'mon! Entertain me."

"I don't think it's in the best friend contract that we have to dance at your beck and call, Porthos," Jude chuckled even as he ducked beneath the table and crawled out.

"Is too, Aramis," Kyle said. "15th amendment paragraph two, 'If your best friend wants a dance partner, you tots have to oblige, because she undoubtedly does shit for you that she hates. Such as feeding your cat when you go to conferences even though she hates cats.'"

"Oh, yeah, it's right under the section about how you should never, ever, hide your best friend's vibrator batteries." There was a touch of venom in Jude's tone as he narrowed his eyes on Kyle.

"That was hilarious, shut up."

"It was not. I had triplets in there to entertain. Two girls and one gorgeous fucking boy, that's a once in a lifetime opportunity. Cock-blocking is never cool, Kyle Olivia Queen."

"Shut the fuck up, both of you," Dave laughed, grabbing each of his best friends by the arm and pulling them out to the floor.

Dave never really thought of dancing as being one of those things he was particularly good at, and from an objective point he was no Fred Astaire. However, he wasn't horrible either, especially when he wasn't under any pressure. Moving to a rhythm he liked, in a familiar haven, with the two people he loved most certainly qualified as a comfort zone for Dave. One of his favorite songs (The Killers' "Spaceman") started up and he pretty much lost his inhibitions. Laughing as he spun Kyle and swayed with Jude was, perhaps, the best feeling in the world.

There was a moment, when he was sandwiched between Jude and Kyle as they all moved their hips to the beat, where he looked down at their hands. His was resting on Kyle's stomach, Jude's was over his and Kyle's splayed gently over them both. From the angle he could just barely see the tattoos on their inner wrists, the musketeer names, bright lotuses (Kyle), twining vines (him), and vivid curly-Q's (Jude) that marked the tender flesh over pulsing vein. Those hands had been part of his life for going on a decade and they were always there to pick him up or hold him. In that crystallized bubble of a moment, looking at their loosely joined hands, he knew that somehow, in some way, everything was going to be just fine. He was going to be just fine, because he had Kyle and Jude with him.

Kyle was satisfied after about three songs before announcing she'd gotten her groove scratched. The three of them returned to the table where Bryce, Rafe, Vince, and Claire had disappeared from their seats. The couples were replaced, somewhat, by Tiff, who was once again taking drink orders and setting things down.

"Oh the universe loves me tonight," Dave said. "Hey, Tiff, can I get another—"

She turned and held out a Kraken'n'Kola toward him.

Surprised and just a little bit creeped out by the sudden and blatant display of magical powers that Tiff seemed to have developed, Dave took the glass from her. "I um…wow, I knew you were good, Tiff, but mind reading's a new one…"

Tiff snorted. "Believe me; while I am pretty BAMF, telepathy isn't on my skill set just yet, big guy." She smirked jerking her head towards the bar. "You've got an admirer, last seat on the right L." Dave followed her gaze but couldn't really get a good look, Saguaro was unusually full that evening. Looking back at Tiff he found that her smirk had intensified to a very dirty grin. "He's got beautiful eyes and the ass of a fourteen-year-old virgin, so I'll go out on a limb and say he may be your type. What do you want me to tell him?"

"I um—I—" Dave honestly did not know what to say. It wasn't like it'd be his first time getting picked up at a bar, not by a long shot. Truth be told, though, he hadn't even been doing things solo, let alone contemplated hooking up with another person, since the end of his last ill-fated relationship. He wasn't sure that he was ready to be so vulnerable with another person just yet. Dave was just about to hand the drink back to Tiff and ask her to give the guy his polite regrets when, once again, Kyle and Jude came to assist.

"Don't tell him anything, Tiff," Jude ordered, jumping between the waitress and Dave. "Dave'll do it himself."

"Hey!" Dave's kneejerk reaction to anyone speaking for him was, of course, incredulity and he glared at Jude.

Jude ignored him and so did Kyle.

"Yes and don't listen to him," Kyle added, nudging Dave's shoulder with her own. She put a twenty on Tiff's tray. "Now run, we've got to have an argument here. Give it about ten minutes then come back with another Guinness."

"And a Boilermaker," Jude tacked on with a smile.

"And a Boilermaker, please."

Tiff, used to this sort of behavior from the three of them by now, just nodded and went back to the bar, leaving Dave to glare at the two people he was now unsure just why he loved most in the world.

"Stop making that face," Kyle said, her hands automatically straightening the collar of his shirt and spot-checking.

"And actually try to smile, baby." This advice came from Jude as he finger-combed Dave's somewhat sweaty hair back into place. "It's your best feature. At least while fully clothed." He winked and gave Dave a light slap on the ass.

"Ooh! That reminds me! Maggie, bag!" Maggie tossed Kyle her purse and, like Darren and Neil, pointedly avoided Dave's gaze. They all knew better than to get in between the Musketeers during one of these little fights.

"You guys, stop it, I'm an adult!" Dave growled, swatting at Jude's hands as he licked his thumb and made to swipe Dave's eyebrows over. "I am fully capable of making decisions for myself, thanks."

"Yes, but when you're getting out of a funk they're usually pretty fucking awful," Jude said. Briefly he cupped Dave's chin inspecting his five o'clock shadow. "Hmm…yeah, you still rock pure sex with the stubble; he'll be all over that."

Dave teetered on a very, very fine edge. In one hand his libido was suddenly awake again and his dick was reminding him of all the neglect it had suffered as of late, thanks to his stupid heart. Also on that same side, rationality was pointing out that his friends, crass as they were, were only trying to push him to do what was best for him because they loved him; he was human like anyone else and required a good lay every now and then lest he lose what was left of his mind. On the other hand Kyle and Jude were sort of treating him like a child who didn't know what was good for him. He was perilously close to losing his cool on the both of them when, somehow, Kyle and Jude pulled a Hail Mary (which they probably didn't even mean to do) and reminded Dave just why they were his best friends.

Kyle's fingers curled around his right arm, the tips just faintly pressing against the pulse beneath the word "Athos". Jude followed her example and squeezed his shoulder. He was caught, like a deer in the headlights, between unnervingly serious azure and electric blue eyes.

"Davey, just go talk to the guy," Jude pleaded. "You don't have to go home with him. You don't have to kiss him. Hell, you don't even have to like him, but Jeebus, don't just shut him down without so much as a 'Hi' because of Nathan."

Dave bit the inside of his cheek, hard, to keep back the words that so wanted to jump out. Again, though, Kyle found them just by the look on his face.

"Dave there is nothing wrong with you," she all but hissed. "You're the best man I know, even if you're a hopeless fucking romantic." A hard, close-lipped kiss was pressed to his mouth, the force leaving a dull throb when Kyle pulled back. The kiss was followed up by a none-too-gentle punch in the arm. "Now go! You have to start fishing to get a catch!"

He, Jude, and the rest of the table groaned which only made Kyle's grin widen.

"God dammit, Kyle, you're an ass," Jude said slapping her shoulder before he too gave Dave a good-luck peck.

"Don't be hatin', baby."

Jude rolled his eyes then offered Dave a tentative smile. "She's right, you know. Terrible as she is. She's right."

Sighing, Dave nodded. He would figure out a way later to show his two besties just how much their tough-love approach was appreciated—even if he could never admit such a thing aloud. "Yeah, yeah, I got the message. Get back on the bike and ride—no." He slapped a hand over Kyle's mouth the moment that he said the last bit. "No cheese. You keep it to yourself until I'm gone, Porthos."

There was a twinkle in her eyes that Dave was always wary of but he trusted her enough to remove his hand once she'd nodded. Kyle couldn't just leave the moment without some awkwardness and without a word she was pulling items from her bag to slip into Dave's hand. Condoms and a travel-size bottle of lubricant.

"Why the hell are you carrying lube?" Jude demanded. He swiped the little bottle to give it a closer look. "Flavored?"

"Um, why wouldn't I be?" she countered. "Just because I may not be having dick shoved up my ass doesn't mean that I don't appreciate the extra tactile pleasure of a good lubricant. Besides, have you ever tasted a condom by itself, you big slut? Latex does not make my mouth water, thankyouverymuch."

"But vanilla condoms with sweet pomegranate slick do?"

"You stop judging me right fucking now, mister two-cocks-in-his-ass-with-one-clit-in-his-mouth."

"You know, actually, that sounds like a really nummy combo! Have you ever tried the GC cinnamon vanilla lube with peach condoms? O-M-G, it tastes like my Nana's cobbler, I—"

Darren paused abruptly when he realized that all of his friends were all staring at him openmouthed, a certain scarlet tinge rising up in his swarthy cheeks. He tried to hide behind his drink, pouting. "Well, it does…"

"Dude, I just…Wow…" Neil shook his head. "That explained like all of the unhealthy things about you in less than two seconds."

"Well, good news, Kyle, any hopes of wood are dead for me tonight, so you can just keep your—uh—kit," Dave said, attempting to give the condoms back at her. She, however, jumped back and Jude snagged them only to slip both condoms and lube into Dave's back pocket.

"No, no, Kyle's right," Jude chuckled. "Better safe than sorry, Athos. Now get going!"

"Make us proud, baby," Kyle added, looping an arm about Jude's waist. "Bonus points if you come home walking funny."

Dave rolled his eyes and turned toward the bar, knowing that there was absolutely no way for him to get out of this. His friends, loving and helpful as they were, he would not put it past to forcibly drag him over to drink guy. Perhaps tied up like a gift and with Jude showing off a chart on Dave's sexual prowess. Jude's commitment to being a good wingman was admirable, though mostly just creepy.

Taking the long way around the bar, Dave argued with himself every step of the way. Two primary sides, one he liked to called J&K Dos and the other was just Inner Dave. J&K Dos, of course, were telling him what his friends had; that he needed this, whatever it turned out to be, a booty call or what have you, just some goddamn human contact to prove that his heart was still beating. To prove that hey, shit happens, and he couldn't just let it keep him down. And, most importantly, to prove that not all men were like Nathan Twat-Face Channing. Expectedly, Inner Dave was telling him the exact opposite of all that, pleading with him to bolt before he embarrassed himself. Inner Dave grew louder the closer he got to the bar and caught sight of the seat Tiff had pointed out.

The woman knew his type too well, all he could see was the back of him and Dave knew his Achilles heel was going to be hit hard. Leggy and slim with a perfect, pert rump that was displayed perfectly by a pair of the tightest skinny jeans Dave had seen in a long time. What skin Dave could see, mostly neck and a touch of facial outline from the angle he sat at, from beneath the guy's tight tee and vest combo was that soft pink-white he'd decided to inanely call "alabaster" (just in his head, no one else would everhear that shit aloud). He couldn't really make hair color because of the black fedora on the other man's head but Dave was betting it was brown. Fuck. He was in trouble if it was. Brunettes always got him.

Something, in all most likely cases his stupid, stupid, stupid cock, had him lightly tapping Fedora's shoulder, before he could really even process just what game plan he wanted to take here. Even worse, he was speaking too. "Um…hey, Tiff said this was compliments of you?" He lightly shook his Kraken'n'Kola, feeling like the world's biggest idiot.

When, Fedora turned around, though, Dave didn't feel so awkward, though. There weren't really words to describe the way his stomach seemed to utterly bottom out and his heart stopped working.

Green-blue eyes settled on him, a smile lighting that whole face up like Christmas tree, but especially the eyes; in ten years that smile and those eyes had not changed. The face was still perfect in its gentle curves, though a bit leaner so the cheeks weren't as full as Dave remembered. That nose, though, that perfect upturned button was exactly the same, right down to the nearly invisible freckles dusting it. Going on ten years since he had last seen him and yet Dave still had the lines of Kurt Hummel's face seared perfectly into his brain.

The same could not be said for he to Kurt Hummel, though, because he wasn't jumping back in fear and revulsion like the last time that they had been so close.

"Hey." His voice was just like Dave remembered too, low, soft, feminine but at the same time not, it had only changed in the fact that there was something sultry coloring it right then. It was a spice that Dave had never expected to be shown to him, not in a million years. "You…ugh…you looked like you were working up quite a sweat out there with your…friends?"

If Dave had not quite believed that Kurt Hummel was actually flirting with him before, the way he lowered his eyes to peer at Dave from beneath the lashes and the unmistakable twinge of hope in that single word, "friends", surely did. Kurt Hummel had been checking him out on the dance floor. Kurt Hummel wanted him to be single. Kurt Hummel wanted to fuck him.

Kurt Hummel had no goddamned idea that he was talking to Dave Karofsky.

The instinct to run had never been greater in Dave's entire life. It was as if his heart might explode if he dared to take another breath. Ten years of healing and growing and suddenly he was right back at McKinley, right back to being that same terrified kid who wanted to dissolve right into the ground. He cursed his friends for bringing him out that night, cursed Kyle and Jude especially for making him do this, and most of all he cursed himself. For being such a fucking wreck and for the words that next left his mouth.

"You don't remember me, do you?" His voice box was working of its own accord, refusing to take orders from his screaming brain just like his legs. He didn't want Kurt to remember him and he didn't want to remember Kurt, at least not consciously.

Kurt quirked an eyebrow, chuckling lightly. "Um…no, should I…" His last world trailed off because as he tilted his head, trying to take new angles of Dave's face, something clicked. Right as he looked into Dave's russet flecked olivine eyes, it hit him, just who he was talking to.

Any horror or disgust that Kurt may have felt upon discovering whom he'd been trying to seduce was to remain, at least for the time being, unknown. Realization had just down when another familiar face decided to make things even more hellish than before.

"Dude, Kurt, you're drowning, I got ya," the newcomer says with such smarm that Dave would have recognized his voice easier than Kurt's. Noah Puckerman, slinging an arm around Kurt's shoulders in a brotherly way, had not aged a day, though his Mohawk was AWOL.

"Um, Noah…" Kurt tried, very softly, at first to cut his friend off.

Puckerman waved Kurt off with a tipsy grin. "Shh, Bright-Eyes, Imma help you get some!" His hazel eyes cut to Dave (whose body was still frozen in place with God only knew what kind of retarded look on his face) and he put on his most charming smile. "Listen, dude, I'm not gay but even I know prime twink real estate when I see it. Hell, if we weren't such good friends, and I was drunk enough, and he wore a dress with some falsies, I might try hittin' it."

"Noah!" Kurt's voice became a very high squeak, utter mortification taking hold of his features. He elbowed the bigger man but Puckerman, thanks probably to the whiskey in his left hand, coincidently the same one thrown over Kurt's shoulders, he just wasn't taking the hint. In fact he pushed Kurt back before returning attention to Dave who was starting to believe that he was fucking paralyzed because his legs would not take away from this train wreck no matter how hard he begged.

"Hush, you've been ogling him forever, I'm tryin' to help you, stupid," Puckerman snapped. "Now, here's why you should take my friend home. A, lookit this face!" He grabbed Kurt's chin with his free hand and shook, placing a smacking kiss on Kurt's temple. "How the fuck can you say no to that? Really! It'd be a crime! B, two words here, buddy: enjoys fisting. There—"

"Goddamn it, Noah, it's Dave Karofsky!" Kurt all but shouted at his friend, cheeks so red that Dave would not have been at all surprised if his head exploded right then and there.

If Dave had not been rendered absolutely immobile by his subconscious the whole scene unfolding before him would have been fucking hilarious, chiefly Puckerman's bit in all of it. The guy's eyes widened as he looked at Kurt then at Dave then finally back to Kurt, jaw slack. Puckerman pulled his arm from around Kurt's shoulders and did a whole new set of double takes before staring at his whiskey.

"Karofsky," he murmured, like he was talking to his shot glass. "Shit, I am drunk."





Dishes Made By Kyle
Pão de queijo, Brazilian cheese rolls. Kyle’s mother, Ophélie, spent most of her pre-married life in Brazil, so all of the country’s colorful cuisine has entered the Queen household—and by default Dave’s mouth—at some point in time.
Griots, a glazed and fried pork dish with peppers and onions from Haiti. Ophélie lived mostly in Brazil as an adolescent/young adult, but she was born in Haiti, her mother’s homeland.
Riz djon-djon, a Haitian rice dish with (usually) wild mushrooms.
Champ, an Irish dish of mashed potatoes, milk, butter and scallions. Kyle’s maternal grandfather was from Belfast.
Esfiha, a traditional Brazilian/Arabic pastry usually filled with ground a ground mutton mixture, cheese curd, and/or seasoned veggies.
Kugel. kugel is a baked Ashkenazi Jewish pudding or casserole, similar to a pie, most commonly made from egg noodles (Lokshen kugel) or potatoes, though at times made of zucchini, apples, spinach, broccoli, cranberry, or sweet potato. Kyle’s dad, Herbert, prefers the sweet “cobbler” variety, made with potatoes, cinnamon and cranberries, so it’s the version she grew up making and scarfing down. Yes, Herbert is Jewish, no Kyle is not. Kyle isn’t really anything, though she and her brothers jokingly call themselves “cashews” (Ophélie, is Catholic).

Specific Drinks Had At Saguaro
Cotton Candy Cosmo, it’s basically what it sounds like, cotton candy with a cosmopolitan poured on top. It’s kind of awesome to watch the sugar just melt under the liquid. Haven’t tried it because I don’t drink and I certainly don’t trust something that looks like liquid Barbie Doll not to be poison, but my friend, Zazzer, assures me it’s delicious.
Boilermaker. Boilermakers are basically beer, tequila, whiskey, and or vodka blended together. I think they smell like formaldehyde.
Piña Colada. Sweet, rum-based cocktail made with rum, cream of coconut, and pineapple juice, usually served either blended or shaken with ice. I don’t thinking getting caught in the rain is a prerequisite for ordering, but it seems like the thing Bryce would do, so…
Hayride. Mix some cognac, Triple Sec, and lemon juice. No idea why it’s called a Hayride. None. No pic, either, it’s kind of obscure, at least to Google.
Amaretto Sour. Sweet and sour, amaretto liqueur, vodka and a cherry. I’m told it tastes like syrup. I think it smells like Nyquil.
Guinness. Guinness is dry stout beer that’s SUPER popular in the UK, particularly Ireland, where it’s brewed. Kyle’s family has deep Irish roots, so it’s not like she’ll just go and drink a Budweiser. I picture Kyle as a hard liquor sort of girl; all that competing with her brothers, you know.



Previous Chapters


Chapter One: Release The Kraken
Chapter Two: Green Eyed Monsters
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gleekxtergleekxter on March 22nd, 2011 09:45 am (UTC)
Yay!
Yes! New Chapter! Haven't read it yet, Will comment again when I'm done, but YAY! New chapter is YAY! :D
:D
:D
celesteennuicelesteennui on March 22nd, 2011 08:35 pm (UTC)
Re: Yay!
Lol, you're adorable.
pixolith on March 22nd, 2011 10:05 am (UTC)
I was grinning like a complete idiot by the end of this. Can't wait for more. :D
celesteennuicelesteennui on March 22nd, 2011 08:36 pm (UTC)
Thank you! I'm delight to know that my favorite fanArtist approves! <3
gleekxtergleekxter on March 22nd, 2011 10:25 am (UTC)
Is a puddle of happy.
Oh, My god! Just so much awesome! Love this! Love the story, love the OC's, love YOU! There is so much awesome here! Can't wait for the next update!
GAH! *dissolves into incoherent babbling about awesomeness*
celesteennuicelesteennui on March 22nd, 2011 08:37 pm (UTC)
Re: Is a puddle of happy.
*Hugs* BREATHE, baby! I love you, your incoherent babbling gives me the warmest of fuzzies.
fanarts_seriesfanarts_series on March 22nd, 2011 10:29 am (UTC)
It's really a fantastic fic, i'm a very Klainer but i so like Dave, perhaps because i love Adler so much, he's a nice and smart guy, sexy too. And i can see Dave in a few years like that, beautiful and at east with his sexuality.

Moooore please !
celesteennuicelesteennui on March 22nd, 2011 08:38 pm (UTC)
Thank you sugar, I'm glad to have bridged a ship gap *snuggles*

More will come soonish...I HOPE. <3
hopefulwriter27hopefulwriter27 on March 22nd, 2011 10:29 am (UTC)
Just read all three parts. Love it so far!
celesteennuicelesteennui on March 22nd, 2011 08:39 pm (UTC)
YOU. I LOVE YOU. For serious, you're one of my favorites so this is SUCH a compliment. Thank you.
(no subject) - hopefulwriter27 on March 23rd, 2011 01:04 am (UTC) (Expand)
Carly: Chris Ccarolina_hope on March 22nd, 2011 10:43 am (UTC)
well, that is not a reunion either of them anicipated I guess

but I love the fact Kurt would be attracted to Dave. and that he wouldnt recognize him while Dave would in an instant

the friendships are amazing as always
celesteennuicelesteennui on March 22nd, 2011 08:40 pm (UTC)
Lol, no I don't think anyone saw that coming, huh? Thank you, sugar! <3
ducttapeofdoom: smileducttapeofdoom on March 22nd, 2011 11:27 am (UTC)
I never get tired of future-fics where Dave recognizes Kurt in an instant but it takes Kurt a moment to place him because of Dave's new found confidence. And I just have to say that I ADORE this story. I am never more excited than when I see an update...and It's only on the 3rd chapter. What have you done to me? *falls onto floor dramatically*
celesteennuicelesteennui on March 22nd, 2011 08:42 pm (UTC)
*pokes you as you spasm on the floor* Oh noes! Get up Ducttape! Get up!

Your comments always have me grinning SO 'effin hard, you're far too kind to me, sugar. Thank you, thank you, thank you! :-*
(no subject) - ducttapeofdoom on March 23rd, 2011 12:22 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - celesteennui on March 25th, 2011 09:45 pm (UTC) (Expand)
david_of_oz on March 22nd, 2011 12:54 pm (UTC)
Love this lots and lots. Cliffhangers - aaaaarrrrrgggghhhhh I may die. Please update ridiculously often.
celesteennuicelesteennui on March 22nd, 2011 08:43 pm (UTC)
No don't die! I love hearing from you! D-: I <3 you!
caliena on March 22nd, 2011 12:56 pm (UTC)
I hate you!
I HATE you!
I waited three chapters for Kurt to turn up and you stop HERE?
Are you effing crazy????
I was grinning so hard through the whole chapter and got all excited during the end and then it's OVER???

Oh god, I hate you so much :D
celesteennuicelesteennui on March 22nd, 2011 08:44 pm (UTC)
*cuddles* I loathe you too, sugar, hehe.
silent hallucinationalex_s9 on March 22nd, 2011 01:35 pm (UTC)
Sometimes I wish you wrote faster as I can't wait for the next chapter but I guess it's worth the waiting the perfection you serve each and every time. I love the story!
silent hallucination: Dave Matthewsalex_s9 on March 22nd, 2011 01:55 pm (UTC)
It just clicked in my mind while I watched your banner: is Noah to Kurt like Jude to Dave? And Rachel is like Kyle?
(no subject) - celesteennui on March 22nd, 2011 08:45 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - alex_s9 on March 23rd, 2011 10:43 am (UTC) (Expand)
my name is a symbollostenergy on March 22nd, 2011 01:45 pm (UTC)
ahhhhhh this fic is really going uphill chapter by chapter! your OC's are all loveable! amazing! thanks for this :D
celesteennuicelesteennui on March 22nd, 2011 08:45 pm (UTC)
Thank YOU for reading, sugar. <3
Jen Star: Dave - beltjenmstar on March 22nd, 2011 02:28 pm (UTC)
Woo hoo! Kurt! I love this story.
celesteennuicelesteennui on March 22nd, 2011 08:56 pm (UTC)
Woo hoo! I love YOU! Thank you, hon.
Good old fashioned lover boy!prosen8966 on March 22nd, 2011 08:04 pm (UTC)
two words here, buddy: enjoys fisting.

Wow, you got drunk Puck down to a T!!

I've loved the story so far but I'm really glad that Kurt has made an appearance... and I also love that he was so busy checking out Dave that he really paid no attention to his face... (I never realized how superficial Kurt was -- thought he was a romantic -- but ten years into the future, who knows how we'll turn out?!)

(Waiting impatiently for part four...)
celesteennuicelesteennui on March 22nd, 2011 08:55 pm (UTC)
HAHA!

I'm so happy that was someone else's favorite too, I loved writing that.

I think Kurt paid SOME attention to the face, but this Max Adler looks a lot different from THIS Max Adler.

That and lighting, some drinks, and well time would probably have factored in there.
(no subject) - prosen8966 on March 23rd, 2011 04:13 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - celesteennui on March 25th, 2011 06:02 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(Deleted comment)
celesteennuicelesteennui on March 22nd, 2011 08:56 pm (UTC)
Thank you, sugar :-D
traciamctraciamc on March 22nd, 2011 11:21 pm (UTC)
Oh my God...you ended it THERE? You are evil!

Great chapter! I love the way the Three Musketeers stick together! That's true friends - breaking into your room when you're wallowing in self pity and dragging your ass to the bathroom to get clean 'cause you stink!

Of course Kurt would be hot for him - when he doesn't know who he is! Can't wait to see THIS conversation now that he knows who Dave is!

Please, please PLEASE don't make us wait too long!
celesteennuicelesteennui on March 23rd, 2011 01:37 am (UTC)
Lol, yes, yes I am, aren't I?

That is what the BEST of friends do, they're honest when you need it. The hair washing and room cleaning are perks though, amiright?

Oh, indeed, where oh where...

I will TRY my best not to hold out on you too long, but considering how life and these monsters run away with me, I don't think setting a deadline would be wise.

As always, m'dear, your words make me grin somethin' awful. <3