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2 A.M.
The mornings were always better when they had lived together; even in the dark, neither ever quite felt afraid or alone.

His eyes were the winter, and that didn't even make sense to Dave, but it was all he could think when he looked at them; it almost looked like it was snowing in them.

Dave didn't know if he believed in the afterlife, but any time he looked up at the clouds and felt that awful pang in his chest, he hoped that after death we do something besides decay.

Lost Scene
You couldn't just excuse it all by giving it a name like, “a lost weekend,” because it still happened and it was perpetually running through his mind at all hours of the day and night.

The heat went out one winter, and it could have been an awful, ugly disaster with the weather being what it was, but they made do with lots of quilts and old grandma sweaters and each other, and in the end it maybe wasn't so bad.

Seize the Day
He desperately wished they could, but it was too late for that now.

To say, “opposites attract,” would be a stupid cliché, and anyway, they weren't really that different after all.

Passions Run
On the night that they moved in together, they had both gotten beautifully wasted, and the end result was this passionate, tumultuous thing that was cut short by the harshness of actuality.

Dave had felt it since day one.

Lull and Storm
Someone had to keep him in check; Dave felt if nobody did, Kurt might explode.

When things got bad, some might have seen a monster in him, but you had to learn to look past things like that.

Kurt's baby girl was gorgeous, you couldn't deny that for a second, and anyway, she made him so happy, happier than they'd ever seen him; Dave couldn't rob him of that even if he wanted to.

We All Float On
Whether it's in life or in death, it still takes some time to realize it.

Splayed across mismatched pillowcases, dark hair met light in an almost tangle, and limbs intertwined while they slept.

It felt stupid, to say he saw it as his job to protect Kurt, but there it was.

The holes weren't just in their clothes and their bed sheets.

Missing Time
Those years had flown right by without him even noticing; if Dave could have seen the future, he would have held on a little tighter.

It was the truly tiny things that got under Dave's skin; the way it sounded when Kurt managed a giggle, or the way his hair stood right on end in the mornings and he didn't even care.

There was so much emotion in the apartment, it was nearly suffocating and sometimes, they both resented it.

In the beginning, it was good, and maybe God didn't see it, but they did.

And then... it wasn't.

The arguments were almost always ugly, and one never knew how they would end.

When it was all over and done with, the bile in Dave's stomach was enough to make him ill.

Kurt was always changing his hair, back then.

He always felt like he took more than he gave, and Dave was far too kind to him.

One time was all it took.

He absolutely adored Dave's hair, and would have a fit whenever he threatened to cut it.

One bad thing inevitably leads to another.

He loathed the way that he could smell Kurt on everything in the apartment, but couldn't feel his body heat, because it was long since gone.

There was something about that grin of his that got Dave every time.

There was a time when it was likely to happen anywhere; in a filthy alley before a show, or in a dingy, dimly-lit bar bathroom afterward.

Towards the end, it all felt grey and muddy and impossible, for them both.

And then, in a blink of an eye, it was over; for Dave, it seemed even bleaker than before.

Hope is the Thing with Feathers
He could never see why anyone would compare hope to a bird, and Kurt's poetry was better, anyway.

No matter what she did, Kurt treated Courtney like a fucking queen and Dave wanted to never forgive him for it.

Turpentine Kisses and Mistaken Blows
Sometimes, on that thrifted mattress, teeth gnashed and blood was drawn.

That skinny, blonde bitch was the one who got to wear his ring, but in the end, did it really matter that much?

In a tribute to Dickens' Havisham, Dave tried to make time stop, and left the apartment just as it was for months.

Every You, Every Me
Everything was right in the world when, for just a moment, they could physically be part of one another.

He didn't know why the universe had blessed him this time, but Dave counted his lucky stars on the mornings that he got to wake up to those bright, blue eyes.

On the bad days, when he was ill in bed, it was a comfort to Kurt to hear the whisper of Dave's sock feet shuffling around the apartment; to know that he had stayed home.

Even months after it was said and done, he could still feel the presence of the small young man everywhere he went, and that had to mean something.

Other times, he couldn't feel anything at all, and that was the worst.

When the issue of Courtney was finally a real, tangible thing, they always seemed to be walking on eggshells.

The Beginning is the End is the Beginning
It's funny, how some people see things that others don't.

Enemy Gate
Fucking weddings, man.

He hoped that someone would be there to tell his little girl the good things.

There was nothing in the world like the feeling of each other, and mostly-clean bed sheets.

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