“This isn’t right – you can’t let him do this to himself over and over,” Dave was worried, scared almost and it would seem he was correct. For the third night, Kurt had failed to join them after the show. For the third night, Kurt had chosen to remain in his own company, with the comfort of drugs and alcohol. It was no secret really, however, his usage and the amount was something the others weren’t certain of. Krist shrugged and opened a beer.
“You can’t make Kurt do anything, Dave. If he wants to be on his own, in his room, that’s his choice.”
Dave felt a wave of anger sweep over him. At first, he had been reluctant to say anything. He had barely been drumming for them for three months - he needed to get adjusted. But it was almost like they didn’t care. Dave couldn’t understand it and before, he wouldn’t have said anything. Krist took a large mouthful of the dark, dirty beer and offered Dave some. He refused, looking almost disgusted at his band mate.
“Don’t you care at all?” He asked, his voice rising slightly.
Krist swallowed slowly and lowered his hand, placing his beer on the table. He turned from Dave slightly and sighed.
“Of course I do.” He replied. “But you just can’t make Kurt do anything. If I went in there and demanded he come out with us, he wouldn’t – if anything, it would make things worse. He would withdraw into himself even more.”
Dave couldn’t understand. It was like Krist hadn’t even tried. Of course, they had been friends longer, they had been in the band since it first started – it was just Dave’s role - his drummer role, which had been changed so often. He turned away from Krist. The giant of the man before him looked angled and smaller, tired and worried. But he wasn’t doing enough. Dave left, slamming the door behind him.
Heading out into the rain, he crossed the street and went directly to their hotel. People spoke about Kurt a lot. They would say things about not being able to make him do anything – would suggest any idea wouldn’t work automatically assuming that Kurt would rebel, do his own thing, play up to what was being asked of him and make it worse. Dave couldn’t understand how people knew all this if no one ever asked. He smiled slightly at the receptionist before going through the thick double-doors and taking the stairs to the second floor.
Dave hardly expected Kurt to respond – the ‘do not disturb’ sign had already been plastered on the door and scrawled on with various drawings and words but he knocked anyway.
“It’s Dave… Kurt, it’s Dave, I really need to talk to you about some of our sets.” He lied. He couldn’t think of any other way for Kurt to let him in. There was no response. Dave knocked again. “Kurt? I know you said you wanted to be on your own, but I really don’t want to screw this up.” He heard movement, something slamming on a surface and Kurt muttering to himself. There was a silence, a pause and then the door opened slightly. Kurt looked sick. Dave tried to hide his shock – only ever seeing Kurt in some kind of daze; he’d never seen the full effects of his drug-use until now. Kurt’s face was pale, gaunt, shadowed and almost grey. His eyes were dilated and blood-shot.
“Kurt…” Dave said very softly. “Can I come in?” his voice was careful. He was unsure how to judge Kurt’s reactions at the best of times, but he was a complete novice when it came to Kurt being on drugs.
Quickly, Dave closed the door. On the floor, there were two syringes and a burnt spoon. Kurt’s lighter was on the bed with another burnt spoon. Kurt was shaking, muttering to himself like a delusional old man. He was slightly hunched - carrying himself forwards slightly but his gait was odd.
Dave saw blood-spots on the sheets and at first thought it was were Kurt had perhaps injected but missed the vein, but then he saw a trail of blood-spots all over the floor, from the bathroom. He glanced inside; Kurt’s razor was cast in the sink in a small pool of blood, dark and dried against the white porcelain basin. Looking back to Kurt, it looked as though Kurt had tried to shave himself half way through taking a hit and cut his face.
Dave didn’t know what to do and just stood there for a few moments. He needed to help Kurt sober up, come off his trip, and clean him up. He ran the shower, the head was over the bath and water gushed into the tub below. Dave made sure it was almost freezing, before moving slowly behind Kurt and reaching for his arm. “Come on, Kurt,” he said. Kurt was in a daze, a hallucinogenic trance – he didn’t know what the fuck was going on. He allowed Dave to pick him up, carry him and lower him into the bath.
He didn’t try to fight him, he felt too weak and tired, too peaked to really know what was going on. The sudden wash of freezing water seemed to jolt him, alarm him, but his reactions were still festered beneath his drugs. He started talking, mumbling, words slurred together and didn’t make sense. Dave didn’t even bother to try to make sense of them, didn’t think there was any point, but picked up on one thing, which made him listen. “For… it,” Kurt slurred. “For the pain of it… in, in, a-a-and I took it for that.” Dave turned off the shower, lifting Kurt up slightly and gently dabbed the cut on his face. “For what Kurt?” he asked, softly. “What pain?” Kurt shook his head and closed his eyes. “Kurt!” Dave shouted. “Answer me!” his voice jolted Kurt back again, before he muttered something else and went back to making no sense.
Dave heard the door open – it was Krist, feeling guilty and ashamed for whatever Dave had realised, but he was shocked when he found Dave kneeling over Kurt in the bath. “What did he do to himself?!” Krist shouted. Dave stood now, hulling Kurt from the bath, carrying him, cradling him, back into the room. He ignored Krist’s comment and demanded he get Kurt a towel and some dry, clean clothes. Krist did as Dave asked, placing them on the floor before helping hold up Kurt so they could strip him and dry him off.
They changed him together and put him in bed – he was already passing out, soon he would be completely gone, sleeping off the effects of whatever was in his system. They knew he used heroin, but Kurt tried so many other things, it could well have been a cocktail of drugs and not just one thing. Sighing, Dave pulled the sheets over Kurt and carefully picked up his kit. “Do we throw it away?” He asked, turning to Krist slightly.
“Do we risk him coming round and going crazy when he finds out, or do we let him keep it?” Krist looked to Dave.
“He needs to come off this shit, Dave. Whatever he throws at us, we’ll take it – he needs to stop this.” Carefully holding the spoons and syringes, Dave handed them to Krist and turned back to Kurt.
“Get rid of all the shit. I’m staying with him,” Dave said softly. Krist nodded; collected the rest of the stuff and left, stating that he would be back after.
Dave stayed awake all night watching over Kurt. Krist came and went, mostly to check on Dave, but he went to bed not long after three that morning. Dave refused, even when Krist tried to assure him that Kurt would be okay, he continued to stay with and watch over his friend.
It was late afternoon when Kurt woke. He was acutely aware of a body next to him, lying on the bed and his heart skipped a beat when he tried to remember if he had slept with anybody the previous night. His face was sore and, with his eyes still closed, he winced as he gently touched his face, feeling the razor-burn, the edges were scabbed and dry. He allowed his eyes to open, feeling groggy and tired, he half didn’t want to look next to him for what he might have found, but was even more shocked to find Dave laying beside him. Smiling gently, Dave didn’t speak but the familiarity of his friend’s face was enough comfort for Kurt.
A further moment of silence passed between them before Kurt allowed himself to focus more. He didn’t know what say. He didn’t know how he was supposed to feel – ashamed for being caught out, angry for being caught out, upset, frustrated – everything hit him at once and he closed his eyes tightly grasping the sheets until his knuckles went white. Dave didn’t speak. He watched Kurt carefully, tensed and aware that any moment, Kurt’s anger could spill on to him and he could end up under one of Kurt’s many rages. Kurt felt remorse, selfish shame and guilt. He felt bad for letting Dave see him like it, he felt angry at himself for thinking he could keep himself away. Three months, Dave had been in the band. It would most likely be the end of his time with them – a new drummer would have to be scouted for, but this time it wasn’t because Kurt wanted them to go. Dave would leave. Dave would leave because the lead-singer was a worthless junkie and the tour would be cancelled and they wouldn’t sell their music and they wouldn’t go anywhere because Kurt couldn’t control what he was doing and his dream of being in a band would be over – Nirvana would be over.
“Kurt?” Dave didn’t know what was going through his friend’s head, but his concern was clear and Kurt opened his eyes, wet and lined with what could be tears, Kurt flashed his azure gaze over to Dave and sighed. Kurt looked like a pitiful child, guilty for breaking something he shouldn’t and Dave was surprised at how fragile Kurt really seemed. “Do you need some water?” Dave asked, sitting up a little more. The young drummer looked like he would fall to his knees for Kurt in that moment and Kurt questioned himself, wondering why Dave cared so much. He’d been with them just over three months. He didn’t really question what they wanted – he’d barely known the sets before they flew out to England to promote their latest album and it had been so far and successful. Now they were halted by Kurt’s fear of Dave leaving and the promotions and remaining shows being cancelled. The remaining dates un-played and ruined. Kurt shook his head, finally answering Dave’s question.
“Why did you stay?” Kurt finally asked, his tiredness too apart to conceal. Dave was shocked. Why didn’t expect someone to stay? Thinking back to his conversation with Krist, Dave realised that, when left to his own devices, Kurt could self-destruct and come back to himself without anyone ever really knowing. Maybe that’s why Krist was so coy. Maybe Krist just didn’t know. Looking at him now, Dave could see Kurt’s obvious destruction – his veins were not used so much that he could be considered a full-on addict, his arms and wrists showed some signs of self-harm, but not enough for someone to really take notice. Not if Kurt didn’t want them to. Dave took a small breath and worded his next statement carefully. “I was worried about you… really hurting yourself.” He said very softly. “And I wanted to ask you… to let you know that, well, that we were here for you. If you wanted it.”
Kurt frowned, he made a face, which Dave could only determine as either confusion or mock. As far as he was concerned, Dave was the younger kid who could play drums. He could play drums like a fucking machine and it was good, but he didn’t expect Dave to want to give him guidance or offer a shoulder to morn to. Dave was like his little brother, Krist, he expected, had told him to say that and he glanced to Dave again. “What did Krist tell you?” he asked, his voice horse, but the intent clear. Dave shook his head, sitting up a little more, Kurt’s senses were returning. His drug-use was almost unapparent now, as though it never happened and all he was doing was waking up with a hangover. “Nothing - Krist never said a thing.” Dave replied honestly. “I just wanted to know why no-one came to ask you if you were okay. We played the gigs and you left. I just didn’t understand why no one followed, just to see, just to ask – just to…” Kurt nodded. “Make sure. I know.” He finished. Dave nodded as Kurt sat up. “What’s it like?” he asked suddenly. Kurt looked at him. Krist asked him what heroin was like and he had said it was good. He looked at Dave carefully before answering. “It sucked, it’s stupid. It makes you feel gross and bad – I just wanted to try it.” Dave nodded but didn’t pretend to understand. Almost as if he was trying to protect him, Kurt lied and somewhat convincingly won Dave round to believing he wouldn’t do it again.
For the rest of the day, they stayed there. They were due to promote the following day, but Krist wasn’t certain it was a good idea. He didn’t believe Kurt would quit the drugs. Dave had told him everything once Kurt had fallen asleep long enough for Dave to leave him and go to his own room to change and wash and freshen up. Krist failed to tell Dave of his mistrust of Kurt’s words and instead told him to keep an eye on him for the rest of the day. Dave had already agreed and was about to leave to go back to Kurt’s room before Krist stopped him. “Just… let me know if anything changes.” Krist had said before taking his own stuff and leaving the room. Dave couldn’t understand why Krist didn’t help more; they were all in this together and they were all supposed to be friends. Dave temporarily blanked it from his mind as he opened the door to Kurt’s room. Kurt’s back was facing the door – he hadn’t left the bed all day. Unsure if he was sleeping, Dave was quiet and took liberty on keeping the noise as low as possible.
When Kurt flinched slightly, Dave jumped, quickly feeling stupid for his reaction. Kurt was dreaming. He moved to the side of the bed and sat in the chair opposite, the loud creak of leather made Dave curse as Kurt’s eyes flickered open and he woke. “Sorry,” he said, softly. “Fucking ass made the seat creak.” Kurt smiled softly and reached out for Dave. “Come here,” he said, motioning for Dave to join him. Smiling, Dave did, but when Kurt didn’t lower his hand, Dave took it, unsure but assuming Kurt needed some kind of comfort. “You don’t need to watch over me, I’ll be okay,” Kurt assured him softly. Dave became aware of Kurt’s thumbs gently tracing his own hand and he looked to Kurt. “But I appreciate you being here.”
Dave smiled and moved down, placing himself alongside Kurt and facing him on the bed. “Krist said he’ll come by later…” Dave said, but stopped with Kurt smirked.
“He won’t,” he replied softly. “Not when you’re here like this.” Dave frowned, unsure what he meant. Kurt smiled and took a short breath. “Fucker gets jealous. A lot.” He grinned. Still unsure, Dave studied Kurt for a long time, not sure if he wanted to know why. Still with his hand in Dave’s Kurt moved himself up a little and looked Dave straight in the eyes. “He knows how I feel about drummers.” Dave sat up, straight and stiff, thinking he’d done something wrong, played wrong, fucked it up. Kurt didn’t let him answer. “ I only fuck drummers,” Kurt said, his eyes glinting.
Dave’s eyes widened but he half-smiled. “What?”
Kurt nodded. “I only fuck drummers – they have the rhythm… the beat, the energy. I never fuck bassists. They only care about their fingers. There’s no passion. No energy. I fuck drummers, Dave and you’re our drummer.”
Unsure if wanted Kurt to fuck him – having never really crossed his mind, Dave remained sitting rigid in his state of both shock and uncertainty. There was no denying he liked Kurt – no denying that Kurt affected him, but Kurt affected everyone. Dave never really thought anything more about it. “Did… did you fuck the other drummers?” Dave asked, regretting the question as soon as it spilled from his lips.
Kurt only half nodded. “Some of them.” He answered. “The ones I really liked.” Dave took a sigh and swallowed slightly, licking his lips that had suddenly become very dry. “But you’re the best drummer we’ve ever had, Dave – you’re the best drummer we’ll ever have.”
Dave didn’t move. Worried that he would only be able to secure his place by having Kurt fuck him, or visa-versa, Dave wasn’t sure he even wanted to be a drummer in this band. It wasn’t what he signed up for. Kurt suddenly let go of his hand and his expression changed. “But I never fucked a drummer that didn’t want to be fucked.” He said, his words falling over Dave like a wash of freezing wind. It was cold and Dave wondered if it was calculated. But Kurt’s face didn’t look calculated or manipulative. He looked genuine. He didn’t want Dave to think he could only stay in the band by fucking the lead singer.
Dave was comforted by that, and relaxed. He let himself slant slightly and looked to Kurt. “Who does Krist fuck?” he asked, softly, wondering it if was all just an orgy of band members who fucked each other for fun.
Kurt shrugged. “Himself? I don’t care.”
Dave grinned. “He tried to fuck you and you didn’t want him to,” he realised and Kurt flushed red. “You and Krist were supposed to fuck and then you built a wall and said it was drummers -” Kurt sat up and suddenly grabbed Dave’s shoulders. Shocked by his actions, Dave was despondent to do anything but he felt himself enjoying the sudden rush.
“I fuck drummers.” Kurt repeated. “Not bassists.” Dave was on his back; Kurt looming above him grinning almost manically and Dave was uncertain but excited. He liked how Kurt grabbed him, how he kept talking about fucking drummers, making Dave feel like only the drummers were important – only the drummers were worthy of such an act. His feelings revealed themselves when his sudden rush of excitement led to his jeans being filled by his erection.
Kurt stopped, seeing the bulge in Dave’s jeans and Dave feared it was some stupid joke that Krist and Kurt set up to test their new band mate, he suddenly felt stupid and shit and expected Krist to come in with a video-camera and laugh in his face, but he looked at Kurt and nothing happened. No joke, no camera, nothing – just Kurt and him. The lead and the drummer. Kurt smiled, a more lustful smile, more compassionate and the manic glint had gone.
Kneeling above him, Kurt unzipped Dave’s jeans and pulled them down, his boxers already damp with pre-cum. With not enough time to feel embarrassed by his dampened underwear, Kurt was already pulling those off too, leaving Dave in plain, naked view – it was an experience Dave had never had, one he’d never expected to have and was one he was unsure of. It hadn’t been that long ago that he’d first had sex with a girl, let alone a man he’d only known for three months. Part of him still feared it was some kind of joke and those were risen more so as Kurt got off the bed and went to the door. Getting himself ready to hide his shame, Dave fumbled around for pillows and anything he could to hide himself, but when Kurt locked the door and turned back, asking what Dave was doing, Dave stopped. “Nothing… I just… I thought-” Kurt smiled and sauntered back over to him, his jeans low on his waist, his top baggy and dotted with holes.
“I like you Dave,” Kurt said, smiling at how Dave had writhed. “I like you a lot. And if you’d let me, I’d like to fuck you.” This was his offer. He wasn’t forcing Dave but he didn’t care if Dave said no – he wouldn’t feel shame for it later. Dave accepted laying back and nodding. He knew Kurt didn’t really care if Dave said no. Kurt wouldn’t force him, wouldn’t make him have sex with him, but he wouldn’t let it get in the way of their band. Luckily for him, Dave was uncomplaining to what Kurt asked and it was mutual.
Kneeling back over him, Kurt smiled, Dave’s erection seemed to throb and pulse. Lowering himself, Kurt was considering how to start but didn’t see any point with informalities. He wasn’t a stranger to this and he knew it would feel good. He ran his tongue along the shaft of Dave’s dick, moving it at speed but with intense pressure. Dave almost came right there and he groaned loudly and threw his head back against the pillows. Fumbling for something – anything to grab, he found only the sheets and the top of Kurt’s head. His fingers danced through Kurt’s hair as Kurt went down on him further, moving his tongue up and down before taking Dave completely in his mouth. The heat of Kurt’s mouth surrounding his dick only made Dave arch his hips upwards and cry out more loudly. Kurt knew exactly what he was doing and it wasn’t bad.
Dave yanked at Kurt’s hair as Kurt breathed hot air and used both his tongue and the inside of his mouth to Dave into nothing but a shuddering quaking mess. It didn’t take long for Dave to cum – it wouldn’t, not with his hormonal rage and the excitement of what was happening but the fact Kurt used his mouth like magic to teeter Dave on the edge of ejaculation was too much for Dave to bare. He came in an explosive range, bucking his hips upwards and screaming Kurt’s name, clinging to the sheets and Kurt’s hair for dear life, like he was dying. Kurt swallowed and finished him off, harbouring his own erection, but he grinned to Dave afterwards, moving up on him and kissing him hard on the mouth – the salty taste of Dave’s own fluid passed between their lips, tongues hot on tongues and Dave’s dick throbbed for more. Kurt was selfless. He wanted his own release, too, but didn’t want Dave to finish him off. He instructed Dave to turn over – excited but hesitant, Dave did what Kurt told him, arching himself a little as he heard Kurt unzip his own jeans. This was something he had never, ever had before – he didn’t know what to expect and, depending on Kurt’s mood, he didn’t know how painful it might be.
Kurt moved over the bed slightly, reaching to his bag, he pulled out some lube and applied it generously to his fingers. He started off gently, almost caressing Dave before inserting one finger into him, feeling how hot a tight Dave – his virgin drummer – was. He inserted a second and Dave cried out slightly. Gently, he inserted a third finger, this time carefully spreading more lube between Dave’s crack, allowing it run inwards to where his fingers were. He moved his fingers in and out, slowly pushing in and out, gently and Dave was surprised, certain that Kurt would fuck him hard and rough and painfully. He didn’t know about the preparation and he didn’t think Kurt would do it in such a careful way. But Kurt was careful and he was gentle and he asked Dave over and over if he was okay, asked Dave to tell him to stop if it hurt – he told him, softly, as he worked his fingers: “I don’t want to hurt you, Dave, tell me if it hurts – tell me if you want me to stop.”
Dave didn’t tell him anything, the burning and tingle and wetness of the lube excited him and the pain turned to pleasure and Kurt withdrew his fingers for the last time. Feeling Kurt’s weight over him, the hardness of his erected penis enter him for the first time was something Dave could never have even imagined. It was strange and painful and it burned but it felt good and as soon as Kurt was in him, pushing inside of him, he relaxed – once he relaxed it didn’t hurt as much and it started to feel good. “Arch up,” Kurt told him, “And touch yourself.” Dave did as Kurt asked again, arching up and feeling Kurt go harder as he went deeper. Kurt’s hands were tight fast on Dave’s hips and Dave touched himself – his second erection much harder than his first. Kurt pounded into Dave, gently, slowly at first, but they both felt the heat of the friction and before long they were both moving in motion, moving harder, deeper, needing more, the tightness, the hardness the fluid and the friction all mixing together, it wouldn’t take Kurt long to finish – Dave’s groans, his cried and his movements turned Kurt on more and he loved the way the younger man moved, like a virgin, unsure but with no control it made Kurt feel accomplished, it made him feel satisfied, knowing that Dave was feeling something so good, feeling something new and exciting and it was Kurt who made him feel that way. Dave’s groans grew louder, his own hand moved faster on his dick before Kurt suddenly batted his hand away and Dave cried out in protest – Kurt wanted control, he was inside of Dave and he wanted to finish Dave off. Dave’s body shuddered as Kurt’s hand wrapped around his erection. Kurt’s hands were cold, his body responded as he bucked his hips forwards into Kurt’s hand.
It was too much – the pleasure was immense, electric and intense, and Kurt felt himself ready, he pushed hard into Dave, feeling the hot tightness surround his own throbbing dick and he came hard into Dave and Dave screamed again, their breaths fast, panting and sharp. Dave came all over Kurt’s hand and in their final thrusts and movements, Kurt uttered Dave’s name, which turned Dave on even more. Their movements slowed, their breathing grew laboured and tired and they stopped. Kurt slowly pulled himself out of Dave; the mixture of their fluid, his semen and Dave’s blood, stained the sheets. There wasn’t much blood, and not enough for Dave to notice but carefully, almost lovingly, Kurt told Dave to stay still while Kurt gently cleaned him with tissues. He was almost doting on Dave before discarding the tissues to the floor and pulling the other sheets over them. He wiped his hands on the other sheets, washing his hands now wasn’t important and he pulled Dave to him, holding him tight, close, their bodies slick with their sweat and sex.
“I believe you, Kurt.” Dave said, his voice jaded as his breathing returned to normal. “I believe you only fuck the drummers.” Kurt grinned and nodded, his fingers lightly pressing on Dave’s back. They felt a wash of exhaustion over the afterglow of sex and Kurt barely answered him before he fell asleep. Dave stayed awake for as long as he could, feeling Kurt’s body meld against his own – feeling his heartbeat and pulse. He liked that feeling. He liked how Kurt had made him feel and he was glad that Kurt had decided that he only liked to fuck drummers. It made his role in the band a whole lot more purposeful.