Title: Between the Blue Lines (Center Ice)
Rating: R (PG for this part)
Spoilers: Season 2. (The usual suspects of 206 through 208)
Disclaimer: I clearly do not own anything within...props to Ryan Murphy and such.
Summary: It's been years but Dave would recognize Kurt Hummel anywhere...even in Annecy, France. (2018Olympic!Future!Fic.)

A.N. So much for me finishing my angsty Kurt/Karofsky piece first. This Olympic!future!fic ate my brain and what little time I have available for stuff that isn't RL.
Also, can someone please inform me why "Kurtofsky" has stuck for the ship name when we have the delicious option of "Karomel"? Just sayin' ;)

.

The sleek, bold outfit catches Dave's eye first. Yeah, Dave definitely has A Type. A Type he's had since high school and 8 years later he still finds his eyes drawn to smartly dressed, lithe men.

Ryan's beside him still talking stats and how the Russian's will be the team to beat and Dave can do little more than nod. His attention is solely on the man across the room talking adamantly on a cellphone. The Olympics are all about the world coming together as one and...and, damn, that guy's jacket is the perfect length to showoff a prime ass. And, yeah, Dave would so be up for letting that pretty, little thing get a taste of some good ol' U S of A hospitality. Dave only hopes the language barrier won't be too bad. He's got a vague recollection of Spanish from high school and, thanks to his teammates over the years, he knows a handful of words in Russian, French and, randomly, Japanese.

The man swings around dramatically and jabs angrily at his phone's screen before shoving the device into his jacket.

It's the slope of the nose that does it. Dave would know that profile anywhere. His teammates don't even warrant a goodbye as he slips away from them and seamlessly weaves through the crowd with his gaze locked on the man across the way. Someone to his left calls out his name but Dave pushes on doing his best not to shove people out of his way.

It's Kurt Hummel, of that Dave is nearly positive.

He still fantasizes about him sometimes, no matter how hard he tries to push the memory of the teen from his mind. It's not as if he actively makes a point to think of Kurt, it's just that his mind would wander at times. Kurt had such an important role in Dave's teen years that to not let his mind slip to him just seems inconceivable. Though he readily admits, with each birthday that passes by, continually fantasizing - accidentally in the shower or not - about a teenage boy who barely managed to look like a teenager at the time is quickly bordering on really damn creepy.

"Kurt?" Dave questions when he finally makes it to the other man's side. He has his hand out and he wants to touch Kurt so very much just to confirm that this isn't a hallucination brought on by the concussion the Doc is always warning him about but he restrains himself. "Kurt Hummel?"

And yeah. Yeah, this is totally him. Those bright, unmistakeable eyes look up and then rove back down briefly before giving a small smile. "The one and only."

It's such a bizarre reaction that Dave actually has to dry swallow and step back. Kurt had never, ever, looked at him like that. That flicker of interest in Kurt's eyes causes Dave to swallow back a nervous cough. When he opens his mouth again, Dave finds himself blurting out, "Hi."

Kurt lets a small huff of a laugh out and reaches up to brush at his hair. "Hi."

That, that, causes Dave to blink. Because while there's still that appreciative look in Kurt's eyes, there's nothing beyond that. Not the even slightest hint of recognition. "You have no idea who I am." And, well, shit. There's a look Dave knows. The look now in Kurt's eyes clearly says: Shit, did we hook-up last week and I completely forgot about it? And as enticing as the light blush of embarrassment reddening Kurt's cheeks is, Dave decides to spare the other man. "From high school?"

High school is clearly still a slightly sore topic for Kurt because his face shutters closed almost noticeably as he gives Dave another critical once over. "Karofsky?" Kurt suddenly exclaims, his eyes nearly bugging out as he stares the other man up and down.

Dave looks down at himself and tries for a joke, "I don't think I've lost that much weight." It goes mostly unnoticed as Kurt continues gaping at him in an almost unattractive manner. "So, what brings you," Dave breaks off suddenly as his breath catches. "A-are you one of the competing male figure skaters?" he asks in a rush before he can stop himself.

"No, god no," Kurt denies quickly, giving a dismissive wave. "What about you? What are you doing here?"

"I actually am competing. On the hockey team."

"Oh," and Kurt sounds genuinely surprised. "Oh, that's... Wow, congratulations."

"Tha-"

"Wait, were you implying that me being this flaming fag that, well, obviously, I must be a figure skater?"

"No! No, Kurt. Not at all. I'd always," Dave pauses and gives a brief chuckle as he rubs at the back of his neck. He's already gone this far so why not just go for broke, right? "I used to imagine that I'd bump into you while I was practicing on the rink alone. That I could just be myself. I always just assumed you could ice skate. I mean you totally have the body for it. Oh, wow, I totally just vocalized that, didn't I?"

Kurt gives an airy laugh as he drops his gaze down and Dave is captivated by the slight flush of pink on his cheeks.

"So, what are you doing here?" Dave finally asks, having gotten his fill of Kurt's blush. "Are you volunteering?"

"No. I...I'm actually here with one of the skaters."

Oh. "Oh." Of course he is. Of course he's here with one of those overly primped elite skaters. Of course.

Beeping sounds between them and Dave watches Kurt pull back out his cellphone. "Ugh. I, uh, have to go. Em's bitching about his outfit. A stylist's job is never done."

Dave hates the well of hope that bubbles up in himself and wants nothing more than to kick himself in the balls. He still asks, "Stylist?"

"Hm?" Kurt questions, glancing up from his cell. "Oh, ah, yeah. I may not be a figure skater but I am currently designing skating outfits. Em offered to bring me along if I was willing to keep him stylish on and off the ice. So, he calls and I jump," Kurt explains, lifting his cell up. "It was...interesting seeing you, Karofsky. I, uh, guess, uhm, good luck with your hockey games. Go USA!" Kurt cheerfully mocks as he steps back.

"Kurt?" Dave calls out, just as the other man had turned away from him. "I... I'm not going to say sorry. I've spent so many years trying to script out the perfect apology to you for everything I did but it just... I realized that there's no way for me to ever find the right words without making it seem smaller than it was. So, I'm sorry that I let things get so bad and to the point that it was impossible for me to apologize."

Kurt is silent for a long, uncomfortable stretch as he just stares at Dave. He finally finds something, whatever he was looking for, and gives Dave a hesitant smile and a nod. "I'll see you around?"

"I'll keep my eyes open."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

/ / / There was this guy I went to school with who was completely perfect in my mind. And I hated him for it. Hated that I couldn't stop staring and thinking about him. And just hated myself for wanting him so much. For a while, I unfortunately - I just - I kissed him and then promptly jacked up my bullying. I drove him right out of our school and I'd never felt so disgusted by myself. So all of this...I just...it reached a breaking point and I just couldn't do it anymore. I fueled all my self-hate - not just over being gay but over what I'd done to this boy I loved - into hockey. I'd always played but it became an obsession and was clearly the only way I'd get out of town and to somewhere I could be myself. / / /

Dave jerks back from the pages of the magazine that are shoved in his face. Despite the close range of the papers the familiar words still jump out and catch Dave's attention. Dropping his fork onto his plate of eggs and hashbrowns, Dave peers around the papers and is surprised to see Kurt standing at his table.

"You're him."

"Yes, I am that guy you knew from High School." And before Dave can continue and ask for Kurt to join him for breakfast, the other man is sliding into the chair next to him.

"No, I mean you're Mr. Cover Page of Out's August magazine," Kurt explains, motioning to the article he was holding. Dave gets another look at it and when he notes the lack of gloss it occurs to him that Kurt has printed out the scanned pages from the magazine.

"Uh, yeah, you saw that?" Dave's not really sure what the sudden interest in the magazine is because Kurt hadn't given any indication of that article or any of the other ones he'd done over the years during their brief conversation yesterday.

"Oh, please, who hasn't seen that photo spread?"

Dave assumes there's probably quite a few people who didn't see the article and accompanying photos but keeps the comment to himself. "So, you read the magazine and just assumed there was some other former closet-case named David Karofsky from a small Ohio town?"

"I didn't exactly read the article. My friend may have read out some of the highlights to me while we..."

"Checked me out?" Dave teases and he's maybe a little serious.

Kurt laughs and gives an eye roll, "Oh, shut up. It's the professional athlete thing. I like biceps." And then Kurt reaches out to poke at Dave's.

Dave thinks this may be flirting but he's really not sure because it's Kurt and it's him and their past is bad at best. And, god, now Kurt is rereading that interview that is candid in every sense of the word. And while Dave never actually said Kurt's name in that Out article it's clear as fucking day to anyone who went to high school with him exactly who this unnamed boy he was in love with was. Even Azimio, who Dave talks to once a year, maybe, had managed to call him up to say "Hummel? Are you fuckin' kiddin' me?" Having your bullying partner-in-crime, who let your friendship drop to acquaintance after you came out or maybe simply because you moved across the country, call you out on the wrongness of verbally and physically targeting your wannabe high school sweetheart sucks.

It's weird having all your cards out on the table and knowing next to nothing about your opponent.

Dave picks back up his fork and nervously starts picking at his breakfast again. When he finishes his plate he realizes Kurt is still reading. "Come on," Dave starts in a tone that sounds far too forced, "that interview isn't that interesting."

"You're gay," Kurt says and Dave's breath catches as he waits for Kurt to unleash years of anger. "You're like Mr. Poster Boy for gay athletes."

"Oh, please, an out and proud professional athlete is so 2014. But one with a past of bullying whose managed to overcome it all and hit big while devoting a lot of time and money to charities that help fucked up kids like himself? Now that, that, garners me a front page on a magazine."

Kurt stares down at the article in his hands. "You being out and...and proud is weird."

"It was weird at first. And now it's just," Dave trails off and shrugs. The silence stretches out again and Dave nervously swallows his coffee down in a bid to keep himself occupied.

"I'm just going to," Kurt starts, thrusting his thumb over his shoulder and vaguely pointing away. "Save my seat while I grab breakfast?"

Blinking, Dave quickly nods. He's surprised Kurt isn't taking this quick out to leave but he's not about to say anything. Dave can't help but let his gaze linger as Kurt slips from his chair and makes his way to the breakfast bar. He's still not sure what to fully think of Kurt's reaction to the article. Should he be hurt that Kurt was clearly going to mentally gloss over the fact that Dave says he was in love with him during the height of his bullying? Should he be annoyed that Kurt didn't react bigger to his coming out? Dave glances towards to exit and wonders if he should slip away himself.

A second cup of coffee arrives with Kurt when he finally makes his way back to Dave's, their?, table. Dave accepts it quickly and smiles in thanks. It's surprisingly easy to sit there in the now vaguely comfortable silence answering a few quick messages on his phone while Kurt starts in on fruit salad and what looks like egg whites.

"So, is this hockey thing like full time? Like this is your career of choice?" Kurt finally asks after putting a good dent into his breakfast.

"Yeah, it was either hockey or seeing about that management position at the rendering plant." Dave's joke falls flat as Kurt just stares blankly at him. "You told me once that... You have no recollection of that, do you? Getting into my face and putting me down?"

"Are you telling me you actually remembered some random insult I threw out at you in high school?"

"Yeah. Each and every one. Come on, I was," But Dave freezes, not being able to follow through with voicing 'completely in love with you' even if it's in black and white print on the papers to Kurt's right, and instead says, "You remember every bad thing Hudson ever did to you, don't you? Back before you became brothers, I mean?" And then he suddenly realizes comparing the two situations is completely the same thing in the end as voicing his feelings for Kurt.

Kurt just kind of blinks at him though. "But it was high school."

God, high school. The shit he'd done to kids who were barely teenagers... "But-"

"I couldn't physically attack yous back so I used my words. Tried to quickly string some hurtful words together to throw back in your faces." Kurt rested his chin in his hand as he momentarily studies Dave. "Plus, 'management position'? Yes, rendering plants are vile but managing a factory isn't exactly mindless work. I couldn't have thought of you that badly. I doubt I meant half the insults I threw at you."

"Well, maybe but-"

"David, we were teenagers. We barely even knew who we were back then. Society had laid out a set of rules that," Kurt pauses to shake his head and give a rather angry stab at the remaining egg on his plate. "Look, the stuff that happened between you and me in high school got bad. I'm not in any way saying it's totally cool that you terrorized me but a few years later I was able to look back at everything more objectively and realized that... I just felt sorry for this angry kid who wouldn't accept who he was. Now that bitch Connie Tynnlie? She is inexcusable!" Kurt suddenly started pulling his sleeve up and offering his bared forearm that Dave tries desperately to not stare at too obviously. "She stabbed me with a pair of shears!" And Dave suddenly notices the slightly raised pink scar. "I'll have this mark forever over a few meters of hideous poly-blend. What kind of adult lashes out like that?"

Dave's still a little stunned that Kurt had apparently kinda forgave him ages ago for the shit he'd put him through in high school. Forgive and forget, Dave's mind cheerfully chimed. Not that Dave really has any right at all to have feelings about it one way or another. Dave glances over and realizes Kurt's still staring at his arm and muttering darkly over 'that stupid 24 year old Texan crime again fashion'.

"How about you?" Dave asks, wanting desperately to turn their conversation away from himself and bullying and people getting stabbed. "Always kinda figured you'd try running off to Broadway after high school."

"Always tempting but no," Kurt trailed off as he absentmindedly straightens and smooths his sleeve back into place. "I think spending the last half of my school days in a uniform fully broke me. So when I ran off to New York after graduating from Dalton it wasn't for Broadway but for fashion instead."

"So there's like a school for ice dancing costume making?"

"Oh, god no. At least I hope not." And Kurt looks thoroughly disgusted by the mere thought of it. "I just kinda fell into it by accident. It turns out breaking into the fashion world is hard. Getting past that hurdle was just not happening. I was dating this skater at the time and he asked me to make this 18th century outfit for him. Some people from his skate club started taking notice of his outfits and suddenly I'd found myself this little niche in the fashion world." Kurt shrugs and plucks an orange chunk from his fruit salad. "Not planned at all but it's a paying job and it managed to get me to France. Beggars can't be choosers, right?"

Dave chuckles and raises his mug of coffee. "Well, I'm out and proud and representing my country by playing hockey at the Olympics and you're still out and proud and as fabulous as always while livin' it up in New York and taking the fashion world by storm one sequined uni-tard at a time. So, Lima, Ohio? Take that!"

"Living it up in Albany actually but I'll drink to that!" Kurt corrects as he raises his tea is salute.

"Albany? You're not living in New York itself?"

"Excuse you," Kurt snaps, sounding rather insulted, "do you have any idea how much a nice place is in the mecca?"

"Ok, right, sure. But why not one of the boroughs?" Huh and there's goes another preconceived image he'd always held of Kurt.

"I have several clients who tend to nest up in Lake Placid as well."

"Lake Placid?"

"Oh, my god. Are you just going to parrot back everything I say? Look, Albany is a lovely city. Gregory Maguire is from there," Kurt just waves off Dave's confused look. "It's a nice and central, and large, location between NYC and Lake Placid. And, plus, I have enough contacts in New York that if I want to stay in the city I can usually find a place easy enough for a week or so."

"Ok than... Albany is clearly far superior." Dave quickly drains the rest of his coffee. "Do you want something else to drink?"

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Dave is ridiculously proud of himself for not googling Kurt's boss. Especially knowing that googling is clearly one of the first things Kurt did when he found himself a moment, those printouts of his Out magazine spread clear evidence.

It's stupid, he knows it is, that there's that flare of jealousy at the thought of some uppity, little, barely legal, figure skater toting Kurt around the world and having him at his beck and call. Because that's all it is, clearly, to Kurt; a job. And even if it wasn't merely a job, it really isn't any of Dave's business. He knows he has no right to feel jealous.

All that aside he still freezes when he spots Kurt outside with another man.

Dave's currently heading to practice. The rink isn't all too far from the Olympic Village and it's a nice, crisp winter day and Dave just feels like walking. He barely made it 100 feet away from the Village when he spotted Kurt.

Kurt's bundled up in a surprisingly plain grey pea coat. Though Dave assumes there's some high and mighty designer tag attached to it. It's cut mid-thigh which is unfortunate because Kurt's pants look ridiculously tight and the coat is clearly depriving the world, or at least Dave, of the chance to oogle Kurt's ass. It's when Dave pulls his attention away from perving on Kurt that he realizes Kurt's standing with another man talking and passing back and forth a notebook.

The other guy is pretty, of course. He's a couple inches shorter than Kurt and looks to be in pique physical condition which, figure skater, makes sense. He's sandy haired and golden and smiling widely and Dave's pretty sure he hates who he assumes to be Emerson already. The Team USA jacket worn by the man kind of confirms that it's this Emerson skater person. At least, fuck, Dave hopes that's Emerson... That it's not some other athlete that's caught Kurt's attention.

Jesus, he needs to calm the fuck down.

Dave shakes his head, tightens his hold on his duffel bag and continues towards the rink for practice. Once he gets onto the ice everything will be better. And if a few guys get shoved around a bit rougher than necessary no one will be the wiser.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Hockey is a pretty rough spot. And Dave'll be the first to tell you exactly how demanding and damaging the game is on your body. But all that aside, even he has to tip his hat to figure skaters at times.

He's watching the screen in the lounge that's broadcasting the last round, or whatever figure skaters call their playoff skates, of the pairs skating and there's this Asian couple and they're just soaring and zipping around like it's nothing. The woman is suddenly airborne and is stretching back in a way that Dave's sure would snap his own spine when she suddenly jerks in midair and comes crashing face first into the ice. Dave quickly realizes her skate must have snagged on her outfit.

"Oh, shit!"

Dave nods his agreement to the voice behind him. And thanks to NBC there's quickly a slo-mo instant replay and, shit, that's a lot of blood.

Dave returns his attention back to the crappy sci-fi paperback he's reading while chuckling darkly over thoughts of Kurt's little figure skater face planting on the ice and messing up his picture perfect little smile. He's maybe a little resentful to Emerson at the moment because it's been 24 hours and beside the cup of coffee he'd shared with Kurt after running into him after practice yesterday he's yet to be able to meet up with him again. Not that they'd made any plans one way or another. But Dave had been looking for him, rather thoroughly, and the only reason he was even seated here with a few of his teammates watching live footage of the other athletes is because they'd called him out on his distraction as of late.

The words "isn't that Emerson's stylist" catches Dave's attention and pulls it away from his book. And sure enough, on screen, there's Kurt hurrying to the petite woman's side. The Asian couple's coaches looks ready to physically remove Kurt from the skater's presence. Kurt ignores them and continues speaking with the female skater while brandishing a small black case.

The commentators continue bickering back and forth over whether or not the skating pair will return to the ice to finish their near flawless performance and questioning what the American's stylist is doing with the other skaters.

Ostrzyeki leans forward and asks, "Isn't that your boyfriend?"

"No way," Ryan says, glancing up from his cellphone. "He's way too pretty for Davey's ugly mug."

Dave hits Ryan across the back of his head with his book. "Don't be such a bitch."

"Please, you know you love me."

Dave pointedly doesn't answer Ostrzyeki's question but no one seems to notice. No one notices Dave's wistful look either.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

"So, I saw your dramatic save earlier," Dave says, announcing his presence. This little nook inside the main lounge of the Olympic Village is quickly being deemed Their Place in Dave's mind.

Snorting, Kurt tugs Dave over to a couch tucked in the corner. "I don't understand what the big deal was. I just gave her outfit a quick repair and fixed the problem of her incompetent designer."

"It was like aiding the enemy."

"But Emerson isn't even a pairs skater," Kurt protests. He picks his sketch book up off the table and makes himself comfortable on the couch again. "He's-"

"I think more to the fact that they were on the Japanese team, not the Americans."

"Well, that's stupid. Fashion knows no-"

"And then the Japanese pair went to win gold over the American pair by the most ridiculously small of a margin. And then they thanked you on National tv. And then they replayed the clip of you helping them again." Dave just chuckles at the exasperated eye roll Kurt gives. Digging into his bag, Dave pulls out his laptop. He's got a ridiculous backlog of emails from friends and family that he should really try responding to. Maybe they'd let him just send one general email because, really, he's been slightly busy and occupied the last several weeks.

Several long moments pass and Dave looks up from his laptop to realize Kurt and him have slipped into this companionable silence. Dave likes this ease he's starting to feel in Kurt's presence. There's no need to keep up random chatter over fear of uneasy silence and Dave doesn't keep checking to make sure he's not leaning in too closely. They're able to just sit quietly and be in each others presence, mere feet away from each other on a couch...together...jesus, he needs to shut his brain the hell up before it gets away from him. Dave glances over again, watching as Kurt starts on a new sketch. He studied it for a moment before he realizes he was no closer to figuring out what the hell Kurt was drawing.

"What is it?"

"Huh?" Kurt glanced up from erasing a chunk of penciled lines. "Oh, a skating outfit I'm hoping to subtly shop around."

Dave gets a better look at the drawing when Kurt tilts his sketch book his way. There's lots of long sharp lines but Dave can make out the vague unfinished form of, to his surprise, a female. "That's a lot less frilly than what I'd figure you'd make for a chick."

"Sometimes I get so sick of the flow-y, princess outfits the women get. Plus, most skate outfits are godawful hideous. I get that sequins catch the eye but that many on a male - or, hell, a female - costume is just wrong." Dave quirks a smile and waited for Kurt to look up at him. Kurt just gives a heavy eye roll as he clucks his tongue. "Oh, just say it. Laugh at the wee little queeny gay wanting to make more masculine figure skating costumes. Laugh it up, Karofsky."

Instead Dave asks, "Do you like it?"

Kurt frowns down at his sketchpad. "This outfit?"

"No. No, I mean designing outfits for skaters. I know it's your job and stuff but do you really like it?"

"I..." Kurt trails off and blinks up at Dave. Toeing his shoes off, he folds his legs up under himself and turns on the couch to properly face Dave. "It was supposed to be a stepping stone. Get some money flowing in, get my name out there and be all 'why yes I do make ice skating outfits in my spare time but more importantly look at my fashion line'. But taking on customers and having all these varied requests and random time restraints...it's been interesting. When Em hired me on full time I was a little hesitant. But it's been fun dealing with clothing not meant for the ice again. Even if most of his outfits aren't stitched by me."

"So, you're just-" Dave catches himself before he says 'his' because that just sounds weird in his head and back peddles, "You're only working for him, solely, now?"

"Hm? Oh, no. He first flew me out with him for this Nationals thing. And when he secured his place on the Olympic team and fully realized how fantastically amazing I am he asked me to be part of his entourage. Really I'm just a glorified seamstress with a good eye for fashion. But, no, I still am very much busy with other commissions."

Dave's phone trills, reminding him of the practice he's got to get to in an hour. "Hey," Dave starts, surprising himself with the loudness. He clears his throat and holds out his phone. "I've got a meeting to get to in an hour, want to swap numbers and maybe grab some dinner tonight if your skater doesn't already have plans with you?"

Kurt doesn't even hesitate as he pulls his own phone out and swaps with Dave to enter in their contact info. And Dave doesn't even want to think how pleased he is when Kurt extended his arm and snapped a picture of himself with the explanation of Dave needing a good caller ID pic of him. Kurt then tells him to call no later then six about dinner plans and tosses out he still has yet to sample some of the local cuisine. Dave has to literally bite his lip to keep himself from blurting out "it's a date".

Kurt slips his phone back into his pocket and grabs his sketch back up again. "Did I mention that this morning this Russian coach asked about commissioning a pairs costume?"

When Dave looks up he sees Kurt smiling widely and knows that even if this isn't exactly what Kurt had planned for his career he's definitely enjoying himself.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Dave is sprawled out on a bench in the locker room having just helped win a game over Sweden. An icepack is being held to his bruised ribs as he glares disdainfully down at his skates. He wonders how much the guys would mock him if he asked one of them to help him take them off because he really doesn't want to bend over right now.

"Hey, Davey, you coming out with us tonight? We're partying it up France style tonight-"

"What does that even mean?" comes from a row back, from Nick if Dave's right.

"-with the team. You've been MIA at best lately, bro," Ryan says as he sits across from Dave and kicks at his skates.

"Oh, come on, he's found himself a hot piece of ass!" And, yeah, that's definitely Nick.

"Hot?" Ryan questions, laughing.

Nick peeks around the lockers. "I may be straight but even I can appreciate a good lookin' guy. And Karofsky's guy is good lookin'."

"You found yourself an Olympic Bootycall and you haven't told me about it? I thought we were friends! Y'know, when I'm not beating your ass back home. Right now we're all Team USA and all those NHL rivalries mean nothing. If you're tapping something, share, bro!"

"I'm not tapping anything. Least of all Kurt." Ryan gives Dave a thoroughly skeptical look and Dave admits, "Even if I'd really like to." Really, really like to, Dave mentally amends. They've taken to spending a good chunk of their days together when they're not busy with their Olympic obligations. And they totally had a kinda, maybe dinner date at a mediocre restaurant last night.

"'Kurt', huh? So not a little local hottie? That's too bad, though I guess your french kinda sucks. Which is weird cause you were up in Canada for a bit, right?"

"Dude, I was in Calgary. That's like the least french place ever." Dave shifts and pulls the not so icy icepack away from his side. "I used to know Kurt from back home. It's been nice catching up."

"Oh, my god, you're in love with him!" Dave isn't sure if Ryan's just being obnoxious or if it's written over his face but it's something he's really starting to worry about. "You have to share! What's he like? Where's he from? What's his favorite hockey team?"

"You remember that American who helped that little Japanese skater that face planted and won gold? That's Karofsky's Kurt Hummel."

Ryan gaped at Dave, who is busy shooting the departing Nick a 'stalker, much?' look, "The one who's too pretty for you?"

"Ladies, gossip is better suited over a couple a'beers."

Dave nods as a couple of their teammates pass by. Ryan's still sitting across from him looking far too interested in Dave's personal life. "Yeah, I'm coming out with you guys tonight." He lifts his leg to shake his skate at Ryan and adds, "You take my skates off for me and I'll even buy the first round."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Someone was leaning against what was probably his door, Dave realizes as he stepped out of the elevator. He has a brief moment to imagine it's Kurt's little ice skater warning Dave off and then he blinks and quickly recognizes the form.

"Hey, Kurt."

"I am ridiculously bored!" Kurt declares, jabbing his nail file in Dave's face. "Em's all busy doing the media runs and prepping for the Gala and everyone else is spazzing over the Olympics. Yawn. Where have you been?"

Dave just grins and hefts his duffel bag higher on his shoulder. "Spazzing over the Olympics? You know I'm here to play hockey, right?" Dave moves in closer, giving Kurt a light hip-check so he can get his door open. "I picked up my parents from the train station this morning. Then I was stuck at practice 'til now." Why him and the guys decided to go drinking the night before a planned practice is still lost on him.

"Practice? God, that's so boring." Kurt snags Dave's swipe-card off of him and shoves him out of the way as Dave fumbles with opening his door a second time. "You're a professional hockey player, right? What's there to practice? It's not like I sit around it my room practicing my slipstitching."

"We're practicing how to play as a team," Dave explains, giving a groan of relief as he is finally able to drop his duffel to the floor. A lamp gets switched on as Kurt makes his way over to the small table and Dave watches as Kurt makes himself comfortable in his room. He pointedly ignores the warm feeling that bubbles low in his gut. "I've spent the last few years playing against these guys on the ice. I know how to beat them, not a 100% on how to play with them."

Kurt gives a little hum and leans over the table to study the playbook Dave had left there earlier. A little furrow appears between Kurt's brows as he reads the pages over and Dave's sorely tempted to make a teasing comment about wrinkles. Instead he busies himself by going through his things to get a clean change of clothes as he's very aware of his sweat soaked outfit.

"Hey, do you mind if I grab a quick shower?"

Kurt's eyes linger on Dave which Dave finds odd because there's no way he'd only just realized the hockey player's state. Kurt gives a little nod as he says, "I'll be here."

Dave strips down quickly the moment he closes the bathroom door behind him, tossing his dirty clothes in the corner he's been tossing his towels this week. Bless housekeeping. Soaping up quickly and scrubbing some shampoo through his hair, Dave makes quick work of his shower. Barely five minutes later he's toweling himself off. He's got this odd worry of Kurt poking through his things or maybe simply getting bored and leaving. So as soon as he gets his pants on he swings the bathroom door open 'to let some steam out'. He tugs his sweater on quickly when he notices Kurt look up from his playbook.

His playbook, damn. Coach would have his head if he realized someone not on the team was looking through it.

Kurt's on his feet before Dave can fully string together a plea of not selling their secrets to another team. "C'mon, lets go for a walk. Your gym bag is starting to stink up the whole room."

Dave eyes his duffel dubiously but agrees nonetheless.

Their walk wasn't mapped out and they wandered aimlessly through and around the Olympic Village all the while chatting about whatever came to mind. A camera swung loosely in Kurt's grip and while they hadn't planned their afternoon it was decided that they had to make it to the Olympic Flame at some point. Dave was thoroughly amused when Kurt had beat him to the flaming joke.

"So your parents are here now, huh? Should I maybe not be monopolizing your free time?"

"Hell, no." And, yeah, that was probably too eager but whatever. It's not like Kurt can't know by this point how much Dave is enjoying their time spent together. "My parents have never been to France before so they're doing all the tourist-y things. They spent the last week in Paris, only just taking the train into Annecy today. I'm just glad we're still in contention for a medal and I have hockey as an excuse to spend as little time with them as possible." Dave blinks in shock as Kurt's hands curls around his arm and he stops to look over at Kurt.

"Are they not ok with you being out?" Kurt asks carefully.

It must be such an inconceivable notion for someone who grew up with such an expecting father. "They weren't thrilled. My mom took it hardest. Though that may be because my dad may have suspected longer."

"Your mom? I always kind of figured..."

"She's very much thinks that a man and woman should get married right out of their teen years and start making a family asap. It doesn't help that my sister and brother-in-law have this whole structured plan about when it's best to have kids. So the fact that I can't knock up my boyfriend is completely stressful to her."

"If you don't mind me asking, how exactly did you come out to them?"

Dave blinks and is surprised Kurt doesn't already know. Though he doesn't recall the full story coming up in his Out interview but he does know he shared it in a few other media outlets. "I was kinda an ass about it. We were at the airport, I was flying out to Missouri for school, and I told them then. I'm going to board my plane in an hour and I'm gay. If I don't hear from you guys by next month I'll send some money to have my shit boxed up and shipped to me."

"You just-?"

"Just told them point blank and ran for the airport security," Dave confesses. Kurt had one hand clasped over his mouth and Dave can't tell if the other man was amused or horrified.

"Well, I guess that's one way to avoid a messy confrontation," Kurt says weakly. "I'm glad it worked out for you."

"They didn't talk to me for three weeks," Dave admits as he starts walking again. He recalls the sick, resignation as the weeks wore on and trying to convince himself it was just the nerves of starting university. "It worked out eventually. It was better than when I outed myself to everyone else via Facebook. Changed my preference to 'men' and allowed everybody one 'wtf' freakout before I defriended their asses."

"Never let it be said that David Karofsky doesn't have style." Kurt snaps a quick picture of Dave before tugging him into the throng of people.

The third time within the hour that someone passed them and threw their fists in the air as they yelled out "Karofsky" finally breaks Kurt. He lets out a very non-Kurtlike snort and shoves at Dave's shoulder.

"My god, it's like high school all over again."

Dave's pretty confident it's most definitely not. "I dunno, man, these last few days it's been you shoving me around and showing up at my room."

"Touché." The pair continue on silently for a few more minutes before Kurt speaks up again. "I must admit that I rather like this after high school version of you. How did this happen?"

The answer was painfully simple. "I stopped lying to myself." It's amazing that such a small thing changed so much. Though it occurs to Dave suddenly that maybe Kurt was questioning how it was that he had started liking Dave. Or maybe he was just tossing one of those useless rhetorical questions out. "It's fuckin' ridiculous how exhausting and sickening it is to keep up this whole charade to not just the whole outside world but yourself. Like maybe if I told myself enough times that I totally liked girls I'd wake up one morning and actually would."

Kurt gives him a sad smile as he fiddles with his scarf. "I don't get why you couldn't have just said something. You could have stayed in the closet until you got out of Lima but you would have been able to-"

"Woulda, shoulda and all that other stuff, right? I dunno. The shit I went through...it got me here, right now. Who knows, maybe if I didn't hate myself so much in high school I wouldn't have been able to fuel it all into hockey. Maybe I would have just been an ok player who was openly gay. But, yeah, I like this place now," Dave says giving a small shrug. He really likes the place he was at right now. Glancing to the side he's all too pleased to see Kurt smiling up at him. His fingers itch to reach out and touch so Dave busies himself by saying, "Being in a place where it's no big deal to turn to your teammate and say 'I would totally suck that ginger's cock' is surprisingly nice." The comment garners another, what Dave had always assumed to be, uncharacteristic snort of laughter out of Kurt. Though maybe, much like all the preconceived and imagined notions Kurt held of him, these were things that Kurt did with all the people he became close and comfortable enough with.

Yeah, Dave had to admit he rather likes this after high school version of Kurt, too.

_ToBeContinued_

A.N: So, I'm gonna break this here because I've been fighting with a chunk in the final bit of this. I figure, post this now and sleep on the rest. The second, and final, part of this should be posted tomorrow. Hope yous enjoyed this so far!