¡Son of Ricardo!
¡Son of Ricardo!
We have to agree.
The author of this fic is the_sneaky_one and this fic was a surprise for Tess, who is her biffle and is the whole reason Sneaky is into Glee in the first place.
We've been sitting on this fic for a while now, because stuff kept coming up, but here it is!
If you'd like to write a guest fic to be posted on KIMs, please ask first. All guest fic will be treated as AU. You don't need to beg or anything, just shoot us a PM with your idea.
After a year of living together, Dave Karofsky and Kurt Hummel had developed a routine. At six thirty in the morning on a typical work day, their alarm went off, waking them both. The next fifteen minutes to half hour was spent lazing in bed with each other, getting rid of their morning erections one way or another. Once risen from bed, they would head to the bathroom to relieve themselves. Kurt would then climb into the bath to take his shower, and Dave would head downstairs to start breakfast. (Despite Dave’s best efforts, Kurt was seemingly unable to learn his way around the kitchen beyond heating up a pack of ramen. Secretly, Kurt really just loved Dave’s cooking.)
After eating breakfast, Kurt would return to the bedroom to get dressed, while Dave would take his own shower. They had learned early on to avoid showering together, as neither of them had much self-control when it came to the other. After they had arrived late for the third day in a row, Burt had let them know quite firmly that even though they were his son and son-in-law, they’d have to act like real employees, and be there on time - or else.
Though they worked in the same place - Dave as a mechanic, Kurt as the secretary / receptionist / assistant mechanic - they made sure to keep their relationship toned down in front of Burt Hummel. Accepting wasn’t quite the same as wanting to see his son being intimate with another man. And so, by a quarter till nine, the two would meet at the front door to share a lingering kiss.
It was a regular routine, one the pair could perform almost without thinking. Very little interrupted it - until one particular day, when Kurt noticed something... different about his lover, just as he was leaning in for the aforementioned kiss.
“David...?” he said slowly, eyes fixed on a particular part of Dave’s face.
The young man in question barely managed to suppress the instinctive flinch that tone of voice usually caused, thanks to his mother. “Ye-e-e-s?” he replied warily.
“David... My darling... What is that on your face?”
This time Dave did flinch. Oh, he was in trouble. He had hoped to get away with it, but no -- he should’ve known Kurt was too observant. “My... nose?” Yes, play innocent - maybe he’ll fall for it.
“Below your nose.” Okay, annoyance level sill low. There was still hope.
“My mouth?” Said mouth quirked into the smile that usually inspired Kurt to get rather affectionate.
Unfortunately, it didn’t work. “David Karofsky,” Kurt said in the particular tone that Dave had long since come to recognize as /trouble/. “That had better not be who I think it is.”
Giving up the feigned innocence, Dave sighed, slumping a bit. “Okay, yeah,” he admitted. “I thought I’d try growing him again. I kinda missed him, even if he wasn’t around for long last time.”
“David, no.” Kurt was very good at the no-nonsense ‘don’t you dare argue with me’ voice. “You are not bringing Ricardo into this house. It was amusing when you were in school. but I swear to Gaga, if you don’t get rid of him by tomorrow, I’m moving back in with my dad until you do.”
“...Kurt. It’s a moustache, not an ex-boyfriend.”
“I don’t care. No Ricardo. That’s final.”
And so it was. Because he didn’t have time to shave before leaving, Dave endured polite silence from Kurt and teasing from Burt all day at work. That evening, he bid the nearly-resurrected Ricardo a fond farewell before rinsing the remains down the bathroom sink. He wasn’t too disappointed; really, it was just a whim that kept him from completely shaving that morning. Even so, he thought he’d like to try growing his moustache again. But Kurt was more important, and as much as he thought it’d be fun to rock the Ricardo, it just wasn’t worth it.
Staring at himself in the mirror above the sink, Dave absently rubbed his smooth, bare upper lip. He paused, eyes widening, as an idea came to him. It might be a stupid idea, and he knew if Kurt didn’t like it, then he’d never live it down. But... Better to beg forgiveness, right?
It had been a few days since the banishment of Ricardo, and no more had been brought up about the subject by either of them. Things had returned to the comfortable routine, though really, it hadn’t been that much of a bump. Currently, Dave was chopping vegetables for dinner, though it was made more difficult because of a certain... problem... he’d hoped to keep hidden from Kurt a little longer.
Dave paused and glanced over his shoulder at Kurt. “Hmm?”
Kurt peered pointedly at Dave’s left hand, where his index finger was bandaged. “What’d you do to yourself now?”
Following Kurt’s stare to his hand, Dave shrugged. “Cut myself earlier. S’okay though, it wasn’t deep.”
“What in Gaga’s name are you doing back there?”
“I thought we were about to have sex.”
“Well... yeah, but you haven’t been this clumsy about it since our first few times together.”
“I’m using my right hand.”
“Dunno. Guess I wanted to try something different. You don't mind, do you?”
“...Alright. But you better make it good.”
“I think you missed a spot when you were washing your hands.”
“I saw a smudge of black. Probably some grease or oil the soap missed.”
“Oh. Uh... Yeah. You’re right. I’ll go wash up again.”
“What are you doing in there?”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“Seriously, I’m not doing anything. Stop rattling the door, I’ll be out in a sec.”
“You’re not jacking off, are you?”
“No way. That’s what I’ve got you for.”
Dave stood in front of the mirror, broad grin on his face. It’d been a week, and so far, he’d managed to keep it a secret. Okay, maybe it wasn’t the same as having the real Ricardo, but in some ways, it was even more awesome, and he didn’t regret it at all.
“What the hell?!”
The sudden exclamation from the bathroom’s doorway froze Dave in place, expression shifting from delight to terror in a split second. Of all the times for him to forget to lock the door. “Kurt, I--”
“That’s not a cut, and it’s not grease. What did you do to your finger?!”
“It’s... a finger moustache.”
“What the hell is a finger moustache?”
“It’s a tattoo, and when you hold it up like this, it looks like you’ve got a moustache.”
“You got a tattoo?!”
Dave winced. Kurt didn’t hit notes like that very often. “It’s just a little one. I’ve had it for a week and--”
“Look, it’s not that bad. You didn’t even notice until now!”
“David, you were preening in front of the mirror with it. Wait - this is what you’ve been doing every time you lock yourself in here? Oh my Gaga, your left-- That’s why you started using your right hand when we--” He stopped, and grabbed Dave’s hand, pulling it close to peer closely at the black tattoo. “Don’t tell me it’s Ricardo!”
“No way! Ricardo’s gone now.” He grinned a bit self consciously, and pulled his hand away, holding his finger across his upper lip to show off his fake ‘stache. “Meet Ricardo Junior.”