Kurt and Dave had spent a lot of time together over the past few months, and at first the proximity had made them so comfortable with each other: Kurt would reach for his hand as Dave talked through some argument with him mom or a confrontation with some idiot in Group. Dave got used to reaching out to hug Kurt goodbye, or putting his hand on the smaller boy's shoulder to show that he appreciated how much Kurt was helping him. It had become a habit, a sign that they were friends now, and could touch in casual ways and neither of them got spooked or worried about how the other interpreted things. It was pretty great, actually.

But more and more over the past couple of weeks, he noticed that Kurt kept his arms crossed over his chest when they were sitting together, and only leaned into him for the briefest moment before heading back home, or to Blaine's or shopping. A few days previously, Kurt had awkwardly patted Dave on the back for a second before bolting to his car. Dave tried to puzzle it out, why things had changed, but that just made him lose track of what he was doing with this stupid tie and he could not manage to get it knotted properly. Kurt had taught him the difference between a half- and full-Windsor for just this occasion, but his fingers fumbled over the black silk.

"Stop. I'll do it." Kurt appeared in the doorway of Dave's room; his dad had moved him down to the guest room when he'd been released from the hospital. There was nothing but boxes and spiders in the attic now to keep his demons company. Even though his new room was a lot smaller than his old room had been, it felt a lot more comfortable.

"Nah, I can do it."

Kurt pursed his lips and watched as Dave tied a full-Windsor and dimpled it perfectly before realizing that the skinny end hung a good six inches lower than it should have. He held up his hands and let Kurt take over.

"You'd really think I'd be better at tying things around my neck…"

"Stop it." Kurt untied the knot and reworked a new one in less than a minute.

"I forgot you don't like gallows humor." Dave wiggled his eyebrows as he emphasized the last words.

"Don't." He stepped back to admire Dave in his tuxedo.

David looked at himself in the mirror. Kurt really had known what he was doing when he'd insisted on this suit: the whole thing was tailored very close to his body and made him look more built than boxy. "I don't even look like me. I'll never make it through the whole evening without busting a seam on this thing."

"You'll be fine. Just hang in there." Kurt waited a beat and then gave Dave a look out of the corner of his eye, trying to gauge his reaction.

"Oh my god! You did not just say that? That is so wrong!" Dave beamed at Kurt, who allowed himself a brief, proud smile, though he blushed furiously. "You referenced The Act and made a pun in the same sentence! I am so freaking proud of you right now!" David moved to throw an arm around Kurt, but the boy casually danced out of his reach and headed for the hallway.

"Come on. Blaine and the rest of the crew are downstairs in the limo."

Dave nodded, trying not to feel hurt by Kurt's sudden aversion to being near him. Maybe it was part of some new mental health rubric Blaine had implemented and Dave just hadn't gotten the memo. Man, that guy had been in therapy too long. Dave couldn't follow half of what he said, but Blaine was always trying to find ways of making Dave feel like part of the community, so he couldn't hold it against him. He also never gave Dave crap about spending so much time with Kurt which, as the dude's boyfriend, he could legitimately have had a problem with. Dave stuffed his wallet into a jacket pocket and wondered if there was enough room in there for his paranoia, too.

It had actually been Blaine's idea, the whole "Group Date" for Prom. Dave had only been off home school and back in classes for a few weeks; he sure as hell didn't have anything like a date yet. He might have considered going stag, but frankly, skipping it and just watching a basketball game sounded pretty sweet. Then Kurt started in with the "David, it's your senior prom;' and "David, I thought you were going to take advantage of the few good things Lima has to offer;" and ultimately, "I demand that you go, David, or I will let Blaine set you up with some random Warbler."

And he was glad he was there, sitting in the limo with Kurt and Blaine, Santana and Brittany, and Mr. and Mrs. Hudson. He was glad, because even though he was the fifth (okay, seventh) wheel, it felt good to be surrounded by people who really got it.

They arrived with the party in full swing. Dave was pretty sure that he understood the meaning behind Puck's satisfied grin as he gestured towards the refreshments, but Dave was on some pretty serious anti-depressants and just shook his head, knowing his shrink would pitch a fit if he poured alcohol into the mix.

Kurt and Blaine, however, made a beeline to the punch and stood in front of the table, holding hands and drinking cupfuls of the bright pink stuff until they were both looking rather pink themselves.

Santana asked Dave to come dance, and he joined her and Brittany on the dance floor for a rousing tribute to LMFAO. They kept dancing, other friends weaving in and out of the circle until the DJ played "Friday" and Santana burst into tears. She threw her arms around Dave, crying against his neck that she was so glad they had both made it to this moment. Brittany pealed her off of Dave, explaining that Santana "always had a lot of feels around the holidays," before pulling her into the bathroom to fix her face.

Dave watched them go, shaking his head at what a soft touch Santana Lopez had turned out to be; she'd seemed so hard-core to him last year when she'd blackmailed him into being her prom date. His vision snapped back into the present, and he noticed Kurt smiling at him from a few feet away.

"What?"

"You look nice tonight, David."

"For a dead guy."

Kurt tilted his head to one side and narrowed his eyes. "No. For a dead guy you look absolutely stunning."

"Jesus, Hummel. How much punch did you drink?"

"Oh, let me just enjoy it. I never get to drink. And there's a limo, David. L.I.M.O."

"You know, for a minute there, I thought you were trying to spell "Lima" and were just too wasted to pull it off."

Kurt raised his chin and tried to look down his nose at him, but David was just too tall. "Blaine is right. You totally use banter as a defense against your dark erotic impulses."

If he'd been drinking at that moment, David would surely have become a human fountain. As it was, he blinked at Kurt with his mouth hanging open, a look somewhere between panic and indignation on his face.

Luckily, Kurt was too tipsy to hold his deadpan and almost fell down from laughing. Dave reached out an arm to support Kurt as he doubled over, eyes squeezed shut, shoulders heaving. For the first time in what felt like a long time, Kurt didn't tense up or move away — quite the opposite. Kurt wiped the tears from his eyes and stood up straight, pressing back against Dave's arm from bicep to fingertips. Dave gave Kurt's hip a gentle squeeze, and he smiled shyly at Kurt's profile when the boy looked quickly to the stage.

"Blaine's song!"

Dave thought he meant that it was some sort of "couple song" for Kurt and Blaine, but when he followed Kurt's gaze to the front of the auditorium, he saw that Blaine was in fact standing there with a microphone and backup singers. The first few chords played and Dave recognized the song.

"Dude, why is Blaine singing this song? It's a major downer. This was, like, on my "Songs to Die By" playlist and shit."

Kurt stuck an elbow into Dave's ribs and closed his eyes. "Nooooo, you morbid creature. It's really very romantic." Kurt's eyes snapped opened. "But I don't know why he's singing it, he knows this song reminds me—"

The sentence hung in the air unfinished as Blaine started to sing. "Closed off from love, I didn't need the pain. Once or twice was enough, and it was all in vain."*** He'd slowed it down some, and made it almost jazzy. Dave decided it actually sounded pretty good, but it was still super depressing.

"Do you think you could dance with me, David?" Kurt looked at David earnestly. Dave let his arm drop against his side and fought the urge to stick both of his hands in his pockets.

"Well, I'm sure I could, Kurt, but if you're asking if I will…"

"Don't joke for a minute, okay? I'm asking. Will you dance with me?"

Dave licked his lips and glanced quickly around the room. Everyone seemed to be dancing, and no one was really paying them any attention. He nodded and Kurt grabbed his hand and tugged him a little closer to the edge of the dance floor. Kurt slipped his arms around Dave's neck and Dave tried to remember that this was totally fine, totally normal, just two friends having a dance at their senior prom. It was just Kurt. Just Kurt fucking Hummel. His friend Kurt. He put his hands firmly on Kurt's hips so that he wouldn't be able to tell if they were shaking or not.

And it was nice. Really nice. Kurt looked up at him and nodded, a condescending smile on his face. Dave rolled his eyes and stepped back, taking Kurt's hand and spinning him in a tight circle before drawing him back to his chest, his hand holding Kurt's against his heart. He moved in time to the music, rocking Kurt with him, guiding them in a circle around their little corner of the room. He drew Kurt out to arm's length and smirked at him, then suddenly reeled him back in so that Dave's chest was pressed to Kurt's back as they swayed. Spining him to dance face to face again, Dave looked at Kurt and prompted, "Huh? I'm a boss, right?"

"Why, Mr. Karofsky, I had no idea you were so light on your feet."

"Why, Mr. Hummel! You really should have known: I'm sure you've heard that I'm a little light in the loafers?" Kurt grimaced but laid his head and Dave's shoulder.

"How can you make a joke out of everything now when a few months ago you were so miserable, David?"

Dave leaned his cheek against Kurt's hair, amazed that it was so soft, in spite of looking styled for a runway. Did his hair just grow like that? "I've had a lot of help. And it was the best kind of help, because it came from someone who loves me and accepts me for who I am." He pulled Kurt tighter against him, and placed a quick kiss on the top of his head. "Thanks, by the way. I don't think I say that enough."

"You say it plenty."

They stayed like that, barely moving to the beat as the song drew to a close and the next one started. Dave heard the strummy opening notes of "Iris" as Kurt jerked out of his arms.

"Oh, for god's sake. Now he's just messing with me!" Kurt glared up at the stage, where Blaine gave him an exaggerated wink and began to sing.

"What?" Dave looked from Blaine and Kurt, clearly confused.

"Nothing. Just Blaine's idea of a joke. Or a lesson. Something." He looked at his feet for a moment before squaring his shoulders and meeting Dave's eyes again. "Blaine thinks you have feelings for me." When Dave just continued to stare at him, Kurt added. "Romantic feelings."

Now it was Dave's turn to laugh until he could barely stand. Kurt stood there, looking imperious, until Dave regained his composure.

"You don't have to laugh at me, you know. It's not like it was my stupid idea."

Dave looked like he wasn't quite sure anymore what the joke was. "I'm sorry, Kurt, it's just… Was there some question about that? Because I think I was pretty clear with the cards and the candy and the monkey suit and this," he gestured to his tuxedo, "this monkey suit is also a pretty good indication of where I stand."

*** "Bleeding Love" by Leona Lewis (which has always been my go-to Dave & Kurt song.