A warm and cozy New Year's at 'Minus Five Degrees'…

Kurt has no idea what possessed him to come here – it all feels wrong. Too hot for a start — New Years is meant to be cold, with hot chocolate (with a generous splash of something) and watching the ball drop, usually in person since he moved to New York nine years ago. Instead he's here, on the other side of the world, about to go out with a group of people where he only knows one of them and somehow celebrate the New Year. Almost a whole twenty-four hours before his friends back home.

He needed to do this though – his most recent breakup means everything at home reminds him of Andrew, and after four years with him reminders are everywhere. Here though, it's the middle of summer, people talk too fast with an accent even he struggles to understand; and everyone acts like it's completely normal to be celebrating Christmas and New Years in temperatures pushing 86 degrees. Except they use Celsius here which he'll never get used to. Or the fact they drive on the left hand side and he's nearly died twice from looking the wrong way when crossing the road…

He's not sure what he'd been thinking when he'd agreed when Cam had invited him to come along for his vacation. Well, yes, he does know what he'd been thinking. That he needed a break away from New York, a new beginning, and what better place to do that than somewhere so polar-opposite to everything he knows. So a change and a break away, and he'll return to New York a new and refreshed Kurt Hummel. Assuming he doesn't die or get lost in the wilds of New Zealand by taking the bus in the wrong direction.

Dave hadn't meant to stay on for the summer. He'd come for winter, for the snowboarding, a working holiday where he'd worked as an instructor during the day most days, managed to board on his days off, and then somehow managed to score an off-season job in town. He's pretty sure his dad is getting to the end of his tether, waiting patiently for him to come to his senses, come back home and find a 'real job'. Maybe finally use his sports journalism degree that he studied so hard for. Not that he's not using those skills, he's written for a few of the local papers. Just covering the smaller sporting events, and it has been good, kept him in practice.

He'd wanted to travel straight after college, but instead he'd given in to the pressure from his dad to work and he'd done that. Hated it. Well, he'd enjoyed the pay check, but he'd sunk nearly everything into paying back his loans and his dad. Then when everything was paid back, he felt like he could breath again and his dad had turned around and gifted him the money right back. He's pretty sure his dad wouldn't have done that had he known Dave would blow it on a round the world trip.

He doesn't consider the money wasted though. London, Paris, Rome, Delhi, Bangkok, Singapore, Sydney… he's been carful with his money. Some of his dad's accountancy has clearly rubbed off on him, and his language skills have come in leaps and bounds. The experiences just come every day. He loves it and is in no hurry for it to end really, despite his dad's cautious enquiries to the opposite.

Tonight he's celebrating, mixing with the other Americans, Canadians and whole other little bunch of non-Kiwis that he's befriended since being here. There are some New Zealanders in the mix of course, and it's been a great night so far. Wood fired pizza and drinks, and now into the small township, which apparently become a metropolis at New Years. It doesn't feel like New Years though, although he's just putting it down to another thing he gets to experience.

They're heading for the ice bar, apparently he isn't the only one feeling nostalgic for some biting cold and he can't believe he's queuing up to enter a bar simply because it's ice cold, or, as it's name might suggest, Minus Five Degrees. He can hear some of the group talking to the people in the line in front of them, fellow Americans if the over-enthusiastic cheers are anything to go by and he shakes his head, amused at how friendly people are outside of their own countries. People they would never normally associate with become best friends in the space of seconds.

He'd assumed it had been a trick of the light, or his mind, but then he hears an all out belly laugh and he just needs to double check that he isn't going insane. Stepping through Cam's group of friends in the queue he catches another look and holy shit, it's definitely David Karofsky. He isn't sure whether to duck and hide, or smile and wave, the choice taken completely out of his hands when Dave's face breaks into a smile.


"You guys know each other?"

"Yeah, we went to high school together."

"Whoa, small world!"

He hasn't said anything, still too in awe, shock, that Dave is here, laughing and smiling and looking… good. Not that he never looked good, but this just seems unreal.

"What are you doing here?"

"About to pay a ridiculous cover charge just so I can have a drink in the cold. You?"

"I – the same. But I meant here in New Zealand."

"I know, just kidding. I'm working here, well, not here exactly, but in Queenstown. Have been since July. What about you?"

"Um. Vacation. I needed a break. Something different."

"Right, well, this definitely fits the bill. You ever been in an ice bar before?"


"Well, prepare yourself for unfashionable jackets, thick gloves and overpriced drinks."

He laughs along with the others and is introduced to everyone Dave is with. He returns the gesture, introducing Cam and his friends, and their two groups become one. He asks Dave what he's been doing and listens in awe as he hears him tell about all the travelling he's done. He answers Dave's questions about his work easily enough and eventually they gain entry as a large group leaves; he supposes they have to not overcrowd a place made of ice and he shrugs on the jacket and pulls on the gloves. Dave was right on all accounts. Not only unfashionable but he feels like a little kid in a thick snowsuit. He clasps his ice-carved-tumbler with both hands and stands there, feeling more than a little self-conscious. Conversation is a little difficult with the loud volume of music, and even if Dave's presence had doubled the number of people he'd willingly sit and talk with he still feels out of place.

"So, which one of these lucky guys are you here with?" Dave asks, and it's almost at a shout, and he has to strain to make out what he has said exactly.

"Hmm? Oh. None of them."

"So… you're single?"

The sheer disbelief in Dave's tone of voice coupled with the look on his face is flattering and he feels his cheeks pinken, something he can fortunately blame on the coldness of the bar at least.

"Recently single. Well. Three months ago. Hence needing a bit of a change."

"Yeah, fair enough. I get that."

They lapse into silence for a moment, and he feels uncomfortable. It's not like he can suggest they go somewhere and talk. They've pretty much caught up on everything already, and it's not as if they are old friends with a lot to catch up on.

"You want to get out of here?"

He swallows and then nods sharply, sculling back his drink and putting his ice-tumbler on the nearest flat surface, watches as Dave goes and says something to his friends and waves them goodbye. They don't say anything as they return their jackets and gloves. He feels Dave's hand settle on his lower back and steer him outside, the warm air hitting him and reminding him again that it's not actually winter.

"So… you want to go clubbing, or you more interested in a few quiet drinks back at my place?"

He considers the options, he's never been big on clubbing, and the idea of seeing where Dave lives… he lets his body sway slightly closer, knocking his hip against Dave's.

"I think I'd like to see where you live," he answers.

Dave feels jittery. He didn't expect to meet anyone, can't even remember the state of the house that he's taking Kurt back to. He's not sure what it is Kurt wants exactly. Drinks. Or more? Fuck. He has no idea if he even has lube and condoms and he has to stop himself from panicking. Walking past the 24-hour pharmacy he thinks it would be a little presumptuous to walk in and ensure he does have the full supplies, but doing it in front of Kurt is another matter all together. Fingers brush his own and he opens his hand, letting their fingers lace together, and they both squeeze at the same time and he grins up at the night sky for a brief second before returning his attention to the uneven cobblestone path that leads down the road.

They've already exhausted the more mundane topics of conversation, the more neutral ground, along with discussing the weather and how odd it feels to be having a hot New Years. Hotter now that he thinks he might be having sex with Kurt. Jesus, it's all his teenage fantasies come true, well okay, not all of them, because he had a very vivid imagination, but the vast majority feature Kurt, and he's never really let the flame he had for him die out.

"This is it. Uh. Where I live."

He can't see anything in the dark, scattered starlight not giving him anything more than an impression of a house with the porch light on, which illuminates a wooden deck and has a dozen moths fluttering around it aimlessly. Dave seems nervous, and he supposes he's feeling a little anxious himself, but only because he feels like that every time before he has sex with someone for the first time.

"Is there anyone else at home?"

"No. You met them before, uh... I guess they'll be out for a while."

He hums in acknowledgment and wonders if he'll have to make the first move. He follows Dave up the garden path, and the longer they don't kiss, or even touch makes him feel more and more awkward. Dave offers him a drink but he shakes his head, wondering if he should maybe just go back to the hotel. He has nothing to lose by leaving. He frowns, deciding that he's thinking about it the wrong way. He has nothing to gain if he leaves, and potentially something amazing if he stays.

He asks where Dave's bedroom is; deciding the direct approach is best. There can be no misunderstanding now, and he watches as Dave's throat works, tongue licking his bottom lip repeatedly before his head jerks toward the hall. He enters Dave's bedroom, and there's a few things around which make it look like Dave's, but it's not overly personal. With all the travel it's probably hard to carry personal effects just to decorate a room and he wonders if Dave even owns furniture.

Turning to ask he's stopped by the sudden press of lips, his breath catches in his throat and he kisses back, insistent now that they're actually both on the same page. He lets his fingers curl into the cloth of Dave's t-shirt, and fuck, the way the fabric is tight around his chest and arms just makes his imagination fire at what he looks like without the shirt on. Also he feels severely overdressed in his button down shirt and he moves his hands to the buttons in question, quickly undoing them with practiced ease. Dave pushes the shirt over his shoulders and his skin tingles at the rougher skin brushing over his and then his arms are caught.

"Cuffs, cuffs…!" He exclaims as Dave continues to tug at the shirt sleeves.

"Jesus Kurt, only you would wear cufflinks out on New Years when it's so hot out…"

He laughs and quickly undoes the cufflinks, shoving them into his pants pocket and undoing his belt and top button while he's there, pulling a face at Dave's amused eyebrow lift.

"Shut up," he mutters, and gets swipe of tongue over his jugular up to his ear.

"And now you can take off this undershirt. Seriously, you didn't pack for summer did you?"

"Talking too much Dave…" Kurt says, but he has a point, he really didn't think it would be that hot here. They move and jostle, stripping clothes off in a disorganised mess as they gravitate toward the bed, and he presses himself against the expanse of Dave's torso, and fuck he's solid. He isn't a small man himself, determined in his early twenties to bulk up a bit, but being pressed up against Dave like this makes him feel petite, like he's younger.

Fingers press at his waist and he lowers himself to the bed, Dave following and they lie side-by-side, arms and legs entwining, bodies pressing harder against each other, trying to create more friction. Their underwear is the last remaining barrier between them, and he has no idea why he even left them on, other than Dave not seeming in a great rush to remove them. Now is a different matter and he snaps the elastic waistband and Kurt glares at him.

"Fuck Kurt…"

He has no idea what he's done, but whatever it is has definitely had a positive effect, Dave's hands are suddenly everywhere, running up his legs, and then down, taking his underwear with them and he lifts his hips up. That gets his cock licked, sucked teasingly, too soft and too quick to be anything but a tease.

"God Dave…"

"Mmm, yeah… this might not, uh, last very long."

He looks embarrassed and Kurt lets out a delighted laugh, reaching up to kiss him again, because he doesn't care if this lasts ten minutes or ten hours. He hasn't had sex since Andrew three months ago, but he can never tell how fast he'll come the first time he's with someone, but as long as they both enjoy themselves he really doesn't care about the time frame. He says something along those lines and feels Dave relax against him slightly.

They're both naked now, and he can feel sweat prickling his skin all over, part arousal and part just the too-hot temperature of the room. It makes their bodies slick as they move against each other, and Dave groans into the crook of his neck when he runs fingers up the length of his cock for the first time. He closes his hand, encircling Dave's erection, jerking him off at a steady pace, his own hips thrusting against Dave's thigh.

It feels good, better than good, Dave's mouth on his neck, sucking and no doubt leaving a mark, fuck he's too old for that, moans and mutterings coming from both of them, short sharp directions about what they need. Harder. Faster. Come on, sit up. Yeah. He ends up straddling Dave's thighs, his own leg muscles burning at the stretch, but he can ignore it for now. Both their hands go around their cocks, finding a pace and tightness that suit them both. Dave's hand is slick with lube, or lotion maybe, they're both leaking precome and he can feel a trickle of sweat down his back.

Dave comes first, eyes screwed shut, hips jerking up and Kurt becomes airborne for a brief moment and braces his spare hand on Dave's chest, legs tightening to keep himself in place as Dave's hand keeps moving on their cocks. His legs are burning, his entire body is burning, and he needs to come. He pushes Dave's hand away, putting his own hand back on his own cock quickly, gripping painfully hard, jerking his hand up and down to draw the release from himself. He knows Dave could have done this, but he's just too impatient, and 'oh fucking hell, god yes…' he comes in shuddering waves, body shivery from the release and legs demanding that he move now.

It's hot and sticky, uncomfortable heat and he completely understands as Kurt pulls his body away from him, and he feels like they really need to have a shower before they go to sleep. Or attempt a second round. He grins and stretches before swinging his legs out and going and opening the windows to let in some fresh air. It's not much cooler, but it offers a nice breeze. He grabs two towels and holds them up invitingly, taking Kurt's eye roll as a definite yes. The shower isn't big enough for two, so he leans against the wall and talks while Kurt showers first.

"So how much longer are you here? In New Zealand?"

"I fly home on the third."

Two days. He only has two days until Kurt leaves and he doesn't like the idea at all, but he can't change that, and he can't make spur of the moment changes when he has a job here. He really wants to see where this could go, because as experiences go this could be the best one of his life, but he really needs to figure out whether this is a one-night thing for Kurt, or something more.

He gets his answer pretty quickly, when Kurt suggests he check out of his hotel for his remaining two nights and stay with Dave. He doesn't argue, instead makes the most of the limited time he has by taking Kurt out and showing him some of the lesser known highlights of the area. They have sex, lots of sex, glutting themselves and he's pretty sure his dick is going to need a recovery period, but that can wait until Kurt leaves. Which comes far too fucking quickly.

"I'm going to miss you."

"Yeah. I'm going to miss you too. So much."

He kisses him, fiercely like this might be their last kiss and swallows back the tightness in his throat as Kurt smiles weakly at him before turning and walking through the departures gate.

He waits at the airport until he can no longer see Kurt's plane in the sky.


Six weeks. He knows logically it's only been six weeks since he saw Dave at the small airport in Queenstown, but here, back in New York he feels cold and alone. It's all exacerbated by the holiday of course, and he smiles slightly at the memory of the same holiday nine years ago. That had definitely been memorable, although he hasn't really thought of it much since then, and knows it's Dave sudden reappearance in his life that is bringing those memories to the front of his mind.

He prepares to leave the warmth of his work building, pulling his jacket tighter around his body and wrapping his scarf around his neck a bit tighter. His usual pattern is to get a hot drink for the walk home, and today he is determined to get something sweet and disgustingly chocolaty that he can mope into while he walks. Alone. To his empty apartment. Sighing he pulls the door open and steps outside, and it's as if someone has been waiting for him, straightening up and pulling the woollen hat back to reveal…


"What are you… You're here."

"Yep. Jobless, homeless and making a grand gesture. I told you I'd see you soon."

He knows he's gaping like a fish. A happy fish he hopes and he reaches forward, pulling Dave to him, and he looks ridiculously tanned in the bleak greyness of New York. He kisses him, lips sliding against slightly chilled lips and stubble, startlingly new and familiar all at the same time. And yes, definitely better than hot chocolate drunk alone.

"You're here," he repeats, because he just can't quite believe it.

"Yeah, happy Valentines Day."