Kurtofsky AU fic. Inspired by "Mad Men".
Summary: Little did Dave know, this man was going to shake up his world.
Warnings: couple racist and sexist comments, swearing, unbeta
AN: So this ficlet is strongly inspired by “Mad Men”. Like, really strongly. Anyone who watches the show, will for sure recognize elements I borrowed for this story.
The action takes place in the 60-ties. Dave works in advertisement. Kurt represents one of his company's clients.
I don't know if I'll ever continue it, mostly due to a lack of time, but here it is for now. If there will be continuation, the rating will obviously jump up because this story just begs for a no-Kurt-we-shouldn't-do-this angst/smut.
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The local was alright. Quite elegant and cozy. Dave sit back in his lodge and looked around. The air was heavy from cigarette smoke, large gray clouds hanging over every group gathered in the room. People were chatting animatedly but his seat was situated more to the side, so the laughter wouldn't disturb any conversation. The perfect place for this kind of meeting. Way too expensive for Dave's taste, but it's not like money played any role in this situation. The company was always paying for those dinners and Dave suspected that overall, it didn't matter how much he was spending on making their clients felt welcome and well taken care off. At least considering that the generous gifts Schuester was throwing at his secretary were probably paid with a money from the same safe, as well the ones for that mysterious chick he was banging in the city. And... who knows, maybe sometimes even bought something for his wife.
Dave pulled out a worn-out looking notebook and a tiny pen from the inner pocket of his jacket suit. He flipped through couple of pages. “Ryerson's lipsticks” was the title of the note he stopped at. Just another campaign the company was working on. Dave was determined to make his opinions heard this time, so his project must be good. He tapped the pencil couple times on the surface, absorbed in his own thoughts, and started scratching a draft of a poster.
“Can I get you anything else, sir?”
Dave looked up, surprised, to see a waiter standing right next to him, a professional smile plastered on his face. He was black and wrinkled. Dave looked down at his table. His glass was indeed empty, and he didn't even remember when he drunk it. Dave frown and looked back at the man.
“Why do women like wearing lipstick?” he asked and put the notebook on the table.
The guy looked startled. He looked around anxiously, uncertain of what is expected from him. Dave winced mentally and remind himself that those people need more time and patience. He eased the frown out of his face and let his lips curl up in what he hoped was a comforting smile.
“Do you have a wife?” He started again.
The man before him relaxed at the familiar context and smiled widely. “Yes, sir. It's going to be twenty three years in October since we got married with my Janet, sir.”
Dave nodded politely. “That's swell. She does wear lipstick, right?” Dave pointed his pencil at the man. “What makes her decide to buy a certain mark?”
The alarmed look appeared on guy's face again. Dave sighed. “Your help would be very appreciated.” He said calmly, although annoyance started creeping into his mood.
“I'm afraid I can't help, sir. I never ask her about that kind of things. She just wears a red one. I guess ladies just like looking nice for their men, sir.”
Dave narrowed his eyes and slowly leaned back in his seat. “You know, that's actually well...” He gasped suddenly, a childish excitement lighted up his whole face and ideas for slogans and TV ads started running through his mind. “That is actually very well said!” He looked up at the man and ignored the dubious expression on his face. “Cher Baiser Lipstick. My husband approves.” He waved his hand in the air, imagining the slogan on a poster, and grinned widely. “Thank you.” He said and went back to scratching in his small notebook. He threw “Oh and one more Scotch, please.” in the waiter's way and returned to explaining on paper why emphasizing basic needs of the prettier sex, like being admired by men, is the key to a successful lipstick campaign.
After a moment, his enthusiasm boiled down and Dave just stared at the pages covered in careful hand-writing. He checked the time. The guy he was meeting was almost forty minutes late. Of course. Dave huffed in annoyance. Fucking people from “Lima Steel Corporation”, thinking the world should just adjust to them. And fucking Schuester, making him waste time on this, when he could just finish his presentation for tomorrow. Although the question is, he thought grimly, what's the sense of showering his bosses with new projects for campaigns if no one was really listening to him. Dave deserved better. He had ideas, big plans for the company. Of course creativity doesn't count when you're just a young account executive. Dave was 26. So what? It's a good age for a promotion. He was better than those old pricks anyway. And he knew it.
“David Karofsky, I assume?” A small hand landed on his shoulder, startling him. Dave turned his head. The high voice didn't match with a figure of a young, big-eyed man staring down at him, but it wasn't the time to wonder about that. He pushed the notebook hurriedly into his pocket, stood up and reached his hand out.
“That's correct. I'm pleased to finally meet you, Mr Hummel” he said smoothly shaking the other man's hand and secretly hoped the guy won't take the barely noticeable accent he put at “finally” as a jab at his lateness. Although that's exactly what it was.
“The pleasure is mine.” The high voice filled the air again. The man smiled brightly and sat at the opposite side of the table.
They moved on to ordering their food. Hummel stared at the menu for a long while, frowning disapprovingly and constantly asking the waiter for details about certain dishes. Dave had enough time to study surreptitiously the other man. He had a pale face with quite unusual, but fascinating features. The first thing that caught Dave attention, man's eyes, big and unbelievably blue, were adding to the innocent image. The guy looked fragile and delicate, which apparently contrasted vividly with his personality. For the short time they spent already in each other presence, Dave noticed that Hummel was demanding and acted awfully superior, as if he believed the restaurant should be thankful just for having him there. Dave figured such confidence is natural when your father is an owner of the third-largest steel producer in the United States.
The waiter took their orders -finally- and brought the wine Hummel ordered. Dave knew now was the time to absorbe themselves in a boring small-talk. He opened his mouth but whatever conversation topic he had prepared was cut off by the other man.
“So, tell me, Mr Karofsky, are you married?” Hummel asked bluntly.
The question caught Dave off guard. He smiled tightly and said: “Unfortunately, I haven't found the right person yet.”
“Perfect” Hummel muttered into his glass of wine.
Dave raised an eyebrow at that, not sure if he heard correctly. “Excuse me?”
But the other man just smiled mischievously and busied himself with watching the red wine twirling in his glass.
“What about you?” Dave asked and, out of fear that it sounded harsh, added hurriedly “sir.”
Hummel put the glass on the table. He looked at Dave for a moment and answered “Actually, I don't plan to settle down. I find the life style of decent people completely unappealing.”
Dave chuckled at that. But one look at man's face said that he's serious. Dave gaped at him for a while, then cleared his throat and took a sip of his drink. Yet another bizarre thing about that guy. Dave leaned back in his seat and smiled, speaking out his thoughts.
“I wouldn't suspect you of representing a steel company. I always thought you are all tough, big guys.” Dave tensed the moment that sentenced came out of his mouth. It sounded way better in his head. Take it as a joke, man. Take it as a joke, he thought nervously.
Hummel laughed and Dave relaxed visibly, knowing they're on the same wavelength.
“Oh, I am tough, believe me.” He said, obviously amused, and leaned towards Dave. “It's just a disguise. The company likes to use my feeble, obscure self to delude people like you into thinking we're not going to negotiate a better price for that advertisement campaign.”
Dave let his eyes slide again over the man's silhouette. Perfectly combed hair, sleek suit, perfumes so strong he can smell them from his own seat. If anyone asked Dave Karofsky, “obscure” would be probably the last word on his list of adjectives that could describe Kurt Hummel. But he ignored that remark and said:
“That's indeed a cunning move.” He leaned forward too. “But since you exposed your company's strategy now...”
Hummel smiled wickedly and licked his lips. “I guess I have to make sure now that you won't reveal it in your office tomorrow.”
Dave bit his lip to keep the straight expression on his face. Maybe the guy won't be a pain in the ass to work for, as everyone in the company originally predicted. He seemed pretty cool for now.
“Unfortunately, I'm very loyal to my company. That would require a lot of convincing.” Dave answered, playful smile ghosting his lips.
Something changed in Hummel at that. There was a new emotion in his eyes and the intensity of his stare made Dave's breath catch in his throat and a heat spread over his face.
The man responded, his voice low and quiet. “I'm a very convincing man, David.”
Dave broke the eye contact, suddenly nervous and not even knowing why. He looked down. Their hands were inches apart on the table. Kurt slowly slid his hand towards Dave's. Dave observed the motion, knowing what was going to happen and dreading it, but at the same time, he was too caught up to say any word of protest. Kurt's fingers brushed along Dave's and started circling over his knuckles. His fingers were cold against Dave's skin, but Dave felt the fever inside him growing at that chilly touch.
Someone on the right side pushed a chair away loudly and it broke the spell. Dave nearly jumped in his seat and looked around abruptly, terrified that anyone could noticed what happened. Kurt looked at him smiling smugly, and took a sip of his wine.
Dave stared at him in disbelief for a moment. Then excused himself to go to the bathroom.
