I. Spring Is Here Again
27 Sept. 2018
The cupboard is empty. So is the fridge. Only the turtles have something to eat, and it's nothing Dave and Kurt can share. Insect jerky, or something, Dave thinks.
They're sitting on the couch, watching TV, wallets empty. They'd both established they were broke when they'd woken up that afternoon, hungry for breakfast, and Dave wonders what they're gonna do about eating. Maybe ask Chris for some cash? His stomach growls, loudly.
This catches Kurt's attention and he glances over at Dave a moment, then stands up from the couch and says, “We gotta sell the kids for food. Come on.”
“We gotta do what, now?” Dave asks as he follows Kurt, grabbing his sweatshirt and keys from the hook by the door.
Kurt just smirks at him slyly, amused. “Come on, you'll see,” he says.
They march down to the bus stop and catch the next one into town. Dave's eyes are caught by every restaurant they pass, and he sees Kurt lick his lips looking at a grocery store while they sit at a stoplight. Food had been low all week, with just two grocery store corndogs for each of them the past three days.
Kurt pulls the cord for the next stop and they get out in front of an office building. He leads Dave up to the third floor, where the frosted glass door says, “Sperm Donation”. Kurt grins at Dave's startled reaction and tugs his arm. Dave tries not to laugh and follows Kurt inside.
II. Reproductive Glands
11 Oct. 2018
“You've donated sperm before?” Dave asks Kurt.
“Yeah, had to, to pay rent a few years ago.”
“So you have, like, kids out there somewhere?”
One corner of Kurt's mouth goes up. “Sure, I mean, maybe. You know that's what we're doing, right?”
“Yeah, it's just a weird thought.”
“That's why I try not to think about it.”
They get their checks into the bank just minutes before five, and go to the grocery store near their place. They get some bags of frozen corndogs, since those are so cheap, oven fries, and Dave insists on broccoli and a block of cheddar before their money runs out.
They're so hungry from barely eating all week that they have four corndogs each for dinner. Kurt eats the cornbread off one of the dogs and slides it suggestively in and out of his mouth, making Dave laugh.
Dave asks, impulsive, “Have you ever...” He trails off when Kurt's intense gaze lands on him.
“What?” Kurt says, smiling.
Dave swallows nervously. “Have you ever, uh, blown someone?”
There goes the corner of Kurt's mouth again. “Yeah,” he says, “What about you?”
“No,” Dave admits, yet again feeling much younger than Kurt, even though there are only two years between them. Kurt seems so worldly sometimes.
“Would you ever want to?” Kurt looks curious.
Dave's eyes drift down to his plate. “Uhh... maybe,” he says, then asks, “Who was it?”
“Somebody I like a lot,” Kurt says mysteriously, and leaves Dave wondering all night.
III. He's The One
11 Oct. 2018
After dinner they spin some records while Kurt works on one of his dolls, carving into the body with careful strokes of his pocketknife and littering the floor with little curls and chips of wood. Dave sits on the couch, idly leafing through a book about UFOs he found at the thrift store, glancing up now and then to watch Kurt work, and getting up to flip the records, so Kurt doesn't have to interrupt what he's doing.
Dave's eyes catch on Kurt's hands cradling the doll's body, fingers sliding delicately over the wood, feeling for rough spots. It's a male doll, or at least it looks that way to Dave. It's a strange little creature, emaciated and almost grotesque with its exaggerated features and oversized hands and feet. Kurt is absorbed in his work, eyes following exploring fingertips as he turns the doll over, caressing, stroking, and learning the form of his creation. Dave is mesmerised.
Kurt eventually takes a break, stretching slowly and popping his back before getting up and wandering over to the couch. Dave is still looking at UFOs, reading about the foo fighters in World War II.
“Saw you watching me,” Kurt says as he plops down beside Dave.
“Yeah,” Dave admits, looking up at Kurt.
“You like art?”
“I like artists,” Dave ventures.
“Oh,” Kurt smiles. “What do you like about artists?”
“Their beautiful hands.”
Kurt's smile broadens. He kisses Dave, soft and quick. “Wanna feel them on you?”
Dave kisses him back, blushing.
A/N: Tried to write these so they could be read as a series, or as stand-alone drabbles. Tell me if you think I was successful. :-)