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Chapter 1

“Yeah Gino’s is okay if you like mediocre faux-Italian crap,” Kurt snickered, entertaining himself and flicking his cigarette at Kris’ acid-washed jeans that were way too tight, “Honestly Kris I thought you had a better sense of taste than that.”

The taller brunette sighed, throwing up his white flag, “What restaurant do YOU suggest, Kurt?”

And, as if none of it mattered at all, the blonde shrugged nonchalantly, staring off at the reddening sky as it hovered over Aberdeen’s always-too-quiet homes, streets and crumbling businesses of the ghost of what was once was an attractive, bustling town with endless opportunities. Then, someday it all just died, the cash river stopped flowing. Him, Krist and all the other teens wandered the streets in the aftermath of a broken community.

“Fuck it, let’s just get something cheap somewhere then spend the rest of what we’ve got visiting The Deacon.” ‘The Deacon’ was their name for their buddy Shane, who sells them weed and showed them how to huff most household cleaning items. He reclaimed the title of ‘The Deacon’ from his father, who was a seemingly devout deacon of the local Catholic church blew his brains out three years ago when he got caught embezzling, doing drugs and cheating on his wife. Shane wasn’t too broken up about it since his dad was a grade A douchebag and treated him like shit most of his life. It was a dark name with a dark sense of humor but that’s just how things were in Aberdeen.

“Sounds perfect to me.” They walked toward Shane’s house, which was only a couple blocks away from where they were. On the way they got stopped by Randy, a local bum who buys them alcohol from time to time. Randy’s good eye was huge and crazier than usual, a wild electricity in his features, coughing, sputtering, trying to stand from his crouched position. His dog, Haggar, a shitzu who thought he was a pitbull, was howling wildly.

“H-hey, boys! Boys, some sunnofabitch just mugged me, took my damn can of soup and Haggar’s food, stole my gloves too! I’ll lose my fingers if that bastard gets away!”

“Where’d he go?” Krist tensed.

“I can’t see dammit, but I thought I heard him get in a car.”

Kurt sighed, “Well shit, Randy, we can’t really get him if he got away in a car…” His heart ached thinking about this poor crazy old man’s fingers turning to ice during the rainy, miserable nights. He reached into his pocket, fingers brushing the creases of his twenty. If he went and bought gloves and food he wouldn’t have enough for weed, but he couldn’t just leave the poor guy here. He bit his lip, Krist scratched his head, looking perplexed with the situation.

“Here gimme a second, okay man? I’ll be right back.” Kurt began walking toward a gas station across the street, Krist followed. He caught up with Kurt, putting a hand on his shoulder,

“Hey, it’s not really our problem, y’know, like that sucks… but…”

Kurt felt a lump form in his throat, looking up at his friend with big, misty blue eyes, “I can’t just leave him there with nothing, man.”

Krist nodded, “I know.” He moved his hand off Kurt’s shoulder, walking into the store with him. “You find some gloves, I’ll get some canned food or something.”

“Make sure you get something the dog can eat too.” He really hoped twenty bucks would cover it. He walked past a candy display, finding a rack of hats, gloves and car windshield scrapers. Thumbing through the gloves he found a waterproof pair that looked really nice, he figured that would be the most practical for him since it’s always wet outside. The gloves were eleven dollars, he hoped Krist found some cheap stuff.

They met up at the register, Krist put down two cans of dog food, muttering something about a buy one get one and a premade ham sandwich and a can of pork and beans. The total came out to being 19.89, Kurt handed over his only twenty, just glad that they didn’t have to put something back. The cashier bagged their stuff, gave their change and they left, walking across the street, which was hardly ever busy with cars, over to poor old Randy.

Haggar had calmed down but stood at attention when the boys returned with a bag in their hands. Randy looked up with his good eye. “Did’ya get him?” He coughed roughly, sputtering into his tattered blanket he held around his shoulders.

“No, but we got you some new gloves and some food for the night.” Kurt took the gloves out of the bag, ripping the tag off and helping the old man slip his gnarled, arthritic fingers into them. Krist put the can of pork and beans in his lap and set the two cans of dog food aside, offering,

“Do you want me to cut these open?”

Randy just nodded, refusing to meet their faces, staring at the ground. Krist got out his pocket knife, puncturing the can and cutting around the edges. Once they got the cans open, they stepped back, watching Haggar tear into that food fast as he could, while Randy set the can of food aside, crossing his arms over his chest.

Kurt knew he was too proud to say anything so he just offered, “See ya later.”

They began walking away when Randy grumbled something to himself, looking up and watching them leave, looking down at his nice new gloves, feeling his eyes tear up but refusing to let anyone see it, picking up his can of food and watching them turn a corner, walking out of sight.

“Deacoooon!” Kurt called as he pounded on the basement door. Someone inside scrambled, shouting,

“Shut the fuck up!”

Krist and Kurt began chanting in unison, “Deacon, Deacon, Deacon!” until he opened the door, thick eyebrows pulled over his deep brown eyes in frustration.

“Fuck, you two are annoying.” He moved out of the doorway, “Well come on in you bastards.” Krist went first, walking through the laundry room into his chill zone, the basement living room which glowed in black light, every table top had a lava lamp and every wall a felt glow in the dark poster.

“Want a drink, guys?” He poured two glasses for him and Krist, then reached into his mini fridge to get Kurt’s drink, smiling and handing it to him, “For you.” Kurt took it, smiling back and sipping at it. They all chatted and drank for a while, standing around his makeshift bar.

The Deacon was twenty-three, which made him the authority on all drugs, sex, etc. and Kurt and Krist naturally looked up to him, as they were only teenagers, Kurt being sixteen and Krist eighteen. After his father had passed, Shane’s mother begged him to move back in with her so he did on the condition that the basement belonged to him, which Kurt thought was a pretty sweet deal, considering his living situation.

“So you guys wanna huff or smoke first?”



“Sweet, I already have a bowl loaded.” He led them to the couches, which were plastic blow up couches that they guessed he only got for the look because sitting on them felt like sitting on an unstable balloon. Kurt and Krist sat together on the love seat while Deacon plopped down in his bean bag chair he kept directly in front of his record player. Another big reason he was cool was his music taste, it ranged from psychedelic to punk to new age and Kurt was really into it. He also liked the way that stubble accented Shane’s features, distinguishing him from teenager to man, Kurt wished it would happen for him sooner. He took a hit from the bowl as it was passed to him, still watching, admiring Shane as he and Krist got into a conversation about God, etc.

Shane also sported tattoos, he often wore loose tank tops that showed glimpses of his heavily tattooed body, a rebellion against his father no doubt. Most of his pieces were traditional black and grey, devil symbolism, roses, guns, dragons. Lots of script lyrics covered his left arm. Kurt wanted to ask him what each of them meant. Sometimes, when he came over just by himself he swore that Shane always sat closer, talked in a lower voice, once he even plucked a fallen bud of weed off Kurt’s jacket, holding it up to twirl it around and smile at Kurt, clucking his tongue.

It would be a quite the leap to say that he was interested in Kurt, he couldn’t imagine in a million years that Shane was into guys even remotely because of the various sexual escapades he’d told them about with women. Kurt watched his jaw muscles work as he spoke, watching as he reached up to brush a dark lock of his shoulder-length wavy hair out of his face. He continued smoking with them, feeling his lids fall lazier and lazier, drifting between conversations Krist and Shane were having, trying to keep up but feeling heavier and heavier.

His eyes fluttered open into darkness. He reached around himself, feeling nothing but a thick comforter and pillows. He was in a bed but he couldn’t make out where, the room was so dark. He was shirtless, which confused him and as he reached down he noticed his pants were undone. As his eyes adjusted he began to make sense of the space, smelling weed, blinking and beginning to see posters, clothes strewn about. Suddenly a crack of light filtered in and it made his eyes squeeze shut. A door opened and closed, darkness enveloped again and footsteps slowly neared the bed.

“You passed out hard, dude.” Kurt felt relief coat his veins when he recognized Shane’s voice in the dark.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry I didn’t even realize. What time is it? Where’s Krist?” He felt so disoriented, weed usually didn’t have this effect on him.

“He had to go home, it’s pretty late, but don’t worry because you can stay here for the night, it’s not a big deal.” He felt weight at the foot of the bed but still couldn’t see a foot in front of his face. He felt dizzy and his head cloudy.

“I… Okay,” The weight got closer. He shuddered as he felt fingers brush across and down his jaw, making him flush. A hand started pushing him back down into the bed, he opened his mouth to ask what he was doing but was met with lips, sudden and demanding. They worked at his mouth, prying it open and tonguing him, Kurt had never kissed anyone with tongue. He felt the scratch of Shane’s stubble against him, hard and painful. He pushed up against Shane’s chest but his weight was immovable. He tried to squirm out of his grasp but felt, with panic coating his veins, that he wasn’t strong enough.

The older, stronger man held him down with his arms and pelvis, grinding a hardness against the stunned teenager, who was beginning to go into a state of shock. He thought he had wanted this, he even dreamt about it, but not like this. He dreamt of loving kisses, gentle hands and smiles, laughter. This was nothing like what he’d wanted but he suddenly felt guilty as Shane broke the kiss, growling in his ear,

“I’ve seen the way you look at me, don’t act like you don’t want this.” He was petrified with fear, unable to move as Shane rapidly began working at his belt buckle, releasing himself then tugging on Kurt’s jeans, flipping him around and shoving his head into a pillow, grabbing his ass and pulling down his boxers, “I know you want this.”

Kurt closed his eyes and tried to pretend it was a nightmare.

“I don’t like it, it’s not heavy enough.” Kurt sighed, ejecting the cassette recording of “In Bloom” that they had finished recording with Chad two days earlier. It was just the two of them, the original two of what had eventually become Nirvana, sitting in Krist’s basement, smoking weed, listening to their demo.

“I think it might just need to be sped up a little, sung a little faster.” Krit took a hit, passing the bowl to Kurt, then reaching for his beer to wash down the smoke. He took a long exhale after downing a bit of beer, coughing slightly.

“To me… All I hear is weak drumming.” Kurt shrugged, “I’m sorry, and you know I think Chad is a nice guy, that’s why it’s gonna really suck to replace him.”

“Whoa, whoa, replace him? Just like that?”

“Dude, this sound is getting us nowhere. If we want people to pay attention to us we need a stronger drum sound, I’m fucking telling you.” He took a hit, holding it in then sighing. Krist followed Kurt’s gaze as he looked down at his feet.

He had to bite his tongue as he almost blew up at Kurt, Chad was their fifth drummer. It was beginning to become ridiculous and he worried they’d never be taken seriously if they couldn’t at least stick with a drummer. He watched Kurt pick up the can of shaving cream they’d been huffing from, he let his vision go lazy as Kurt took a deep huff at it.

He exhaled long and heavy, “I’ve been talking to Buzz about it, he says he knows a guy who’s looking for an out from his band, said they’re breaking up or something.”

“Yeah? Been talking to Buzz already, so it’s just a done deal? No need to fucking consult me or anything, right?” Krist felt irritation boil up inside him, “So, basically you make the decisions and you decided to humor me tonight by telling me this, since you’re just gonna go ahead and do it? And I imagine you want me to be the one to kick Chad out too, well I’m not fucking doing it.”

Kurt gave him a meek, yet defiant and cocky look, pursing his lips, nothing to say.

Krist sighed sharply, exasperated, “I’m not gonna fucking do it again Kurt. If you wanna kick Chad out go right ahead and do it since it doesn’t matter what I say anyway! Fuck.” He got up to go to his room, fed up with Kurt’s bullshit for the night. He hollered down the hall, “And let yourself out!”

As the room fell quiet again Kurt felt bile crawling up his esophagus, always getting a sick, anxiety-riddled stomach whenever it came to making decisions or doing anything remotely stressful. He reached for Krist’s phone, thumbing over the buttons, beginning to dial in Chad’s number. Something didn’t feel right about kicking him out over the phone. He deserved a bit more than that…

“Fuck,” He sighed, deciding to leave, walking up the stairs and out Krist’s door, locking it behind himself and walking out toward his frozen old car. He got in, turning the key in the ignition, reaching over to blast the heat, shivering and stepping out to have a cigarette. He stood by the warming car, reaching from his pocket to grab his box of smokes only to realize he’d left them on Krist’s coffee table. “God,” he sighed, mentally kicking himself. He guessed he deserved it. He clutched his stomach, feeling like someone was sticking him with a red-hot iron, branding him from the inside.


Kurt hunched over himself, hissing in pain as the same red-hot iron burned him from inside, making his stomach churn in sickly circles, bile scraping up his throat. He opened his mouth to puke but nothing would come. He’d already thrown up everything in his stomach, nothing left but weak, rough dry heaving. He reached blindly around himself, hand finding fabric, he yanked on it, trying to pull himself upright. Everything was so loud. He couldn’t distinguish anything in particular going on around him. A blur of people, grass and sky swirled around him. He didn’t realize he was pulling on the front of Dave’s shirt, his vision was too blurry from the blood rushing to his head.. He felt strangely numb as his hand brushed across a hard, lean torso and warm hands grabbed his shoulders.

“Kurt?” It sounded like he was speaking underwater. He heard murmuring around him, what he thought was Krist’s voice got closer then suddenly he was swept up in a familiar pair of arms. He looked up and sure enough Krist was carrying him through a sea of people, press, cameras, flashing lights; it was all so disorienting Kurt just buried his face in Krist’s neck to hide himself from it. He felt Krist walk up some steps and suddenly it was quieter. Muffled voices still penetrated through the trailer’s walls but there was at least some sort of barrier now.

He winced as he was lowered onto a bed in the camper. His ailing body instantly curled up into the fetal position. His nerves felt numb from the constant, drilling pain in his guts. “Fu-uck,” he whimpered, swallowing on what felt like barbwire in his throat. “Water?” he looked up at Krist, who registered what he said and left the room. As Krist left another body filled the doorway, looking timid and unsure.

“Kurt, are you alright?” His voice was soft and careful, Kurt saw him nervously tuck his long hair behind his ears. He couldn’t help but smile a little, Dave resembled a child standing in their parent’s doorway looking for comfort after a nightmare. Kurt patted the bed beside him, scooting a little.

Dave slowly walked in, approaching the bed and sitting, eyes never leaving Kurt’s face. Krist returned with water and sat beside Kurt naturally, giving him the water bottle. Kurt sat up to drink it, carefully, afraid his stomach might reject it. Krist, as if reading Kurt’s mind spoke to Dave,

“Kurt has a chronic stomach condition, doctors can’t figure out what it is. It comes and goes, but if he would eat better I doubt it would be this bad!” He scolded, sighing slightly. He took the water bottle as Kurt basically threw it at him, looking very used to it.

“It’s my curse.” Kurt set a hand over his stomach gently, biting his lip, holding back the pain.

“God, that’s awful! I’m so sorry…”

“It is what it is, I’m fine.” He moved to stand, but blacked out, falling in a weak heap.

“Fuck, that’s it, I’m done!” Dave slammed the glass against the table, stumbling backward into Krist, who grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him,

“Don’t be a biiitch!” He force-fed him a bottle of wine, holding it upside down so he had to chug it. Dave chugged for a moment, before sputtering, breaking from it and spewing dark red sangria all over himself and the carpeted floor of the dressing room.

“Fuck, you guys are making a mess.” Kurt commented from his spot in the corner, atop everyone’s jackets in a nest he made for himself, smoking a cigarette, watching his friends get wasted.

“The fuck do you care!? I’m celebrating, motherfuckers!” Krist chugged more wine as Dave swayed toward the couch, walking like a pirate. He sat in a messy heap, covered in wine, hair mussed up and tangled, cheeks rosy red. Kurt smiled at him, offering him a drag of his cigarette.

Dave reached up at it and missed spectacularly. Kurt chuckled. “Here, let me..” He leaned toward the piss-drunk Dave, holding the cigarette for him between his fingers, bringing it to his lips. Dave took a needy puff, eyes scanning Kurt’s face as he did. The moment felt longer than the few seconds they both knew it probably was. Kurt’s face felt warm as he pulled back, swallowing hard and looking away from him a little too quickly.

Dave laughed carelessly, splaying himself out on the couch lazily. It was the first time Kurt had seen him really relax in front of him. He usually seemed on edge or nervous around him in the couple months they’d known each other and it was refreshing to see him drunk, uncaring, uninhibited. A different, confident, more social side of him came out. For the first time Kurt started noticing the lean, subtle muscles of his tanned arms.

“What’re you look’n ah-huh?” He slurred, eyes all over Kurt, walking up and down him, checking him out blatantly. He noticed dimples deep in his cheeks when he smiled like that.

Kurt laughed breathlessly, he hadn’t been flirted with in what felt like forever. He caught his breath and said, “Nothing,” his chest feeling lighter, bubbly.

Dave leaned forward, all awkward limbs and warm, wine-drenched breath as he grabbed the collar of Kurt’s shirt, whispering an inch away from his messy blonde hair and the ear lying beneath it, “Were you checking me out?”

Kurt couldn’t help but laugh again, knowing Dave probably wouldn’t remember any of this tomorrow. So he indulged him, whispering back, “Maybe… were you checking me out?” Dave pulled back to look at him before grinning and nodding slowly, eyes walking up and down him again, shamelessly. Krist took one look at them before laughing to himself and walking out, taking the wine with him, off to cause trouble for someone. To Kurt’s surprise, Dave stood and lumbered over to the door, locking it and turning back to smile at him, cheeks dark red.

The sound of the lock sliding into place in the door triggered him and suddenly he felt sixteen again, locked in that dark room. A flash of anxiety coated Kurt’s veins, but he shook it off quickly, reminding himself where he was, who he was with. Dave was harmless. He didn’t seem to notice Kurt’s mini-freak out, still walking toward him slowly with that playful smile on his face.

“What’re you doin’?” Kurt grinned, swallowing hard, trying to swallow the anxiety back. Dave continued walking toward him until he was slowly climbing up on Kurt’s lap. The blonde was a bit stunned, watching as Dave put a knee on either side of his thin hips, sitting back on his haunches, perched atop Kurt’s torn jeans on his thighs. He felt the blonde tense beneath him so he reached down to take his face in his hands, cupping his stubbly jaw, relishing in the feeling.

He leaned forward, eyes large and doe like as he blinked down at the singer through long, dark lashes, “Are you afraid?”

Something deep in him told him to defend himself, it was like a reflex, “No.”

“You sure?” He tested, leaning closer, nearing Kurt’s thin, trembling lips. He let one of his hands slip from his jaw, down his neck where he felt his pulse pounding against the surface of his stubbly, pale skin. He held his handsome face firmly in place as he leaned down to press his thick lips to Kurt’s and to his surprise he was met with no protest.

Rather, he kissed back. Enthusiastically. He grabbed the back of Dave’s head, knotting his fingers through his dark locks, making sure to hold him close as he followed the motion of Dave’s lips, leaning in sideways to lock lips with him even further, moaning as he brushed his tongue against Dave’s experimentally. As he did that Dave let out a whimper and it made all the muscles in his body surge forward and suddenly he was pinning Dave down into the couch beneath his body, pressing down on him with his hardening cock.

They broke the kiss to gasp, Kurt opened his eyes, which were wild and bluer than Dave had ever seen them. They shared a crazed, scared gaze as Kurt looked down, seeing how he was pinning him. He pulled away, sitting back, “I.. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that… You’re drunk, this is…”

Dave grabbed his hand as he moved away, whining and pulling him back, “No, Kurt, I… I want this.”

“You’re just drunk. You won’t even remember this tomorrow.” He got up from the couch, running a hand through his hair, trying to gain clarity, feeling like Dave’s drunkenness was rubbing of on him.

“I think you’re sexy, Kurt.” He turned to meet Dave’s eyes, his expression was genuine.

“You do?”

The drummer bit his lip and nodded, standing and reaching out to touch his warm skin again, fingers brushing his jaw, then twirling around in the clump of hair that fell in front of his face. Kurt didn’t know how to react to such a sweet, gentle gesture. He’d never had anyone touch him with such care. It made his face burn.

“You liked kissing me.” Dave looked at him with a shit-eating grin, “You liked it.”

Kurt blushed even harder, pushing on his chest, but Dave just wrapped his arms around him tight. “Look at me.” Dave pulled his chin up, looking down his nose at Kurt, who was just a bit shorter. He leaned down to press his lips to Kurt’s again, smiling against his lips and pulling away softly, grinning.

Someone started pounding at the door, making the two of them jump apart. Kurt cleared his throat and escaped through the bathroom door. Dave smiled, then went to unlock the door for Krist.

Later that night, as they were ending their show, Kurt and Krist started going crazy with their instruments, holding them up like swords and threatening to fight each other. Kurt swung his guitar off his shoulder, sending it skidding offstage. He then turned, quickly, with a crazy light in his eye before he started running toward Dave, launching himself up into the drum kit, crashing into it with a ferocity that caught the drummer off guard.

He reacted too late and Kurt’s body came crashing into him, they hit and tumbled down the blocks the drum kit had been set up on, Dave taking most of the fall as they landed hard into a pile of cords and scratchy curtain fabric. He could see Kurt’s mouth moving but didn’t hear anything he was saying, the feedback and screaming crowd too loud to decipher anything. He tried to sit up on his elbows but fell backward as they ached in protest.

Kurt pulled on his shirt, still shouting but Dave still couldn’t make anything out. Kurt offered him his hands and helped him to his feet but Dave just grabbed his shirt in return, pulling him down to kiss him in the darkness of backstage. Kurt acted surprised but again didn’t refuse the kiss, smiling for a moment then melting more into his lips. Kurt pulled away to shout in his ear over the noise, “Are you okay?”

Dave nodded, shouting back, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Let’s get outta here.” He shouted, pulling him up to stand.

“Yo, pass that shit.” Kurt chuckled, watching Dave nod off while holding the joint in his hand. He snapped to, shaking his face a little and passing the joint off to Kurt. He rubbed at his eyes, yawning wide.

“Maybe I should head home, man.” He stretched his arms up over himself, blinking hard. Kurt took a hit off the joint, passing it back and murmuring, in a voice barely above a whisper,

“You can just crash here.” They made brief eye contact as Dave took the joint from him, taking a small hit and passing it back. Kurt peeked at him from under a curtain of messy blonde hair, looking so small and cute in his oversized sweater that hung off his shoulder, revealing his white undershirt. He noticed Kurt always wore layers. He saw him fidget, taking a hit then exhaling, “I j-just think it’d be safer, you seem really tired.”

But Dave wasn’t tired in the least, not anymore. Not with the way Kurt was peeking at him through his hair, stealing looks, touch lingering as he passed the joint. He could sense Kurt’s neediness for his touch, he knew he wanted him but was scared to ask. Dave took a hit, then leaned forward to crush the roach out into his ashtray, “I mean.. If that’s cool with you.”

Kurt shrugged, trying so hard to look nonchalant but he was on edge, the electricity between them was palpable. Kurt got up from the couch, “Follow me, I’ll show you where you can stay.” Dave followed him through the dirty apartment, stepping around piles of clothes and garbage. Kurt led him to a dimly lit hallway, turning toward a door then suddenly flipping around, pushing Dave up against the wall with surprising force.

They each gasped a little, Kurt’s voice shook as he skimmed his nose up Dave’s throat, admitting in a hoarse, defeated voice, “I can’t stop thinking about you.” He ran his hands up and down Dave’s sides, fingering his belt loops, tugging his pelvis into his own, grinding up against him, hardening. A low growl passed through his lips and Dave couldn’t help but grab his face and kiss him.

They kissed harder this time, needier. Their breath ragged and unsteady, clawing at each other’s clothes, rolling against the wall and taking turns slamming each other into it, until Kurt reached down to turn a doorknob. He tumbled backward into the dark room, pulling Dave along with him. Dave shut the door behind them, reaching to turn on the light.

“No, don’t.” Kurt kissed hungrily at his neck, leading him in the dark to his bed, walking him back until his calves hit the mattress and they both fell into the bed. Dave bit his lip, feeling Kurt’s hardness press down on him through his jeans, his own cock hardening rapidly against it, it surprised him how natural it felt.

“Why won’t you let me see you?” He sat up and kissed at Kurt’s chin, down his throat, across his collarbone, tugging his sweater and undershirt down. He reached at the bottom of his shirts, pulling it up his torso. Kurt resisted, then allowed it, shivering as Dave threw the shirts aside. He let out a shaky breath as Dave’s hands brushed his torso.

Dave was surprised at how skinny he was, he moved his hands around his thin waist, feeling his skin prickle and get goose bumps at his touch. He pushed him down softly into the bed, on his back as he explored his bare skin, his heart pounding hard, filled with anxiety and anticipation from being this close to him. He never imagined to be with Kurt like this, which made the moment so much more surreal. He planted soft kisses above his nipple, then down his middle, making him shiver.

Kurt reached down to grab a handful of Dave’s hair, finding his face in the darkness, navigating toward the faint light from the window that glimmered in Dave’s dark eyes. He sucked in a deep breath before he spoke, trying to steady himself, “I… Listen, I… I haven’t had very good experiences in the past with this… with guys… or girls for that matter, and…” He lost his nerve, sighing and swallowing, shaking.

“Kurt, it’s okay,” he took his face in his hands and felt Kurt relax.

He closed his deep blue eyes, reaching up to place his hands over Dave’s, trying to find the right words, “I… I like you, and I don’t want… I mean…”

“I like you too, Kurt.” He opened his big blue eyes, looking up at him, trying to believe that something could be good, that someone could be true. It would hurt so bad to get burned again, to have his trust destroyed again. Dave could sense his apprehension, “C’mere.” He moved under the thick comforter atop the bed, pulling Kurt under them with him.

Dave took off his shirt and threw it aside and then like it was nothing he just wrapped his arms around Kurt, pulling him into his chest. Kurt breathed in the warm slightly musky scent of him, a mixture of Old Spice, cigarettes and weed. What he couldn’t believe was how incredibly warm Dave was. Dave spoke softly into the top of his head, “We don’t have to do anything before you want to, Kurt, I’m just happy to be here with you right now. I’m totally content to just do this.”

He couldn’t help but smile into him, resting his hand up against his warm chest, “Okay.”

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