Everything You Need To Hear
Title: Everything You Need To Hear
Author: lennoxave
Pairing,Character(s): Kurt, Mike, lots of discussion of Blaine, Mercedes, and Tina
Rating: PG (there's like, one swear word)
Word Count: 3,018
Spoilers: Through 2.07, "The Subsitute"
Summary: Mike needs to buy a suit, so he asks Kurt to help him out. They end up having some epic discussions.
Author's Note: This episode, you guys. I . . . I don't even know how I feel about it. And I try not to write fic in direct response to the show because the show is ridic, and characters jump all over the place, and that makes them super-hard to write. But I tried, because . . . my assumption is that none of this is ever going to get referenced again in canon, so I'm just going to talk about it here and make my own little headcanon. This is my contribution to what I can only assume is going to be a cavalcade of "bitch, please" fic about Kurt and his interactions with Mercedes in this episode, because . . . bitch, please.
Everything You Need To Hear
The name that popped up on his phone was not any of the names Kurt expected to see. Moreover, it was not a name he would have thought would physically call him, rather than just text.
"Mike?" he answered in a slightly confused voice.
"Hey, Kurt," Mike said back.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Kurt asked.
"I have a favor to ask." Ah, that was it. He hadn’t figured it would be a social call. He and Mike talked at school, sure, and now that he and Tina were dating Kurt occasionally saw him outside of McKinley, but they weren’t really very good friends. The call was probably something about glee.
"Go ahead."
"It’s Tina’s cousin’s bat mitzvah this weekend, and I need to buy a suit for it."
"Her cousin’s--"
"On her mom’s side. Her mom was adopted by a Jewish family, so Tina has two Jewish aunts with kids."
"Ah. So that’s how ‘Cohen-Chang’ happened. I’d always wondered. It seemed impolite to ask." He heard Mike laugh a little at that.
"Anyway, I need help finding a suit, and I was wondering if . . . uh, you’d go shopping with me tonight?"
Kurt wanted to shoot Mike an inquisitive look, but he was foiled by lack of physical proximity. "If you don’t mind me asking, why would you go with me and not Tina?"
"This is going to sound weird for me to say, but . . . she dated Artie. I kind of don’t trust her judgement when it comes to guy clothes." Kurt burst out laughing. "Please don’t tell her I said that."
"Don’t worry," Kurt said, still cracking up. "All right, I’ll go. I finished all of my homework today in study hall anyway, so I don’t have any plans. Do you want to go right now?’
"Yeah, if that works for you. And, uh, do you mind driving, too? I don’t have a car."
"That’s fine," Kurt chuckled. "Now, where do you live?"
* * *
"So, what parameters am I dealing with, here?" Kurt asked as they walked into the mall.
"What do you mean?" asked Mike.
"You know: budget, style, color, personal preferences? Do you need a new dress shirt, too? Shoes? Ties?"
"Well, my mom gave me a hundred bucks . . ." Kurt’s jaw dropped, "but I have another hundred saved that I can use." Kurt breathed an audible sigh of relief. He was good, but he wasn’t that good.
"I didn’t know you had a job," he said.
". . . paper route," Mike corrected him.
"That’s . . ." the first word that came to Kurt’s mind was "adorable," but he wasn’t sure how Mike would take that.
"Tina says it’s cute, and that someday I’ll get a big-boy job," Mike told him good-humoredly.
"We’ll go with that, then."
"And I’ve got black dress shoes. And, would this shirt work?" Kurt inspected the white collared shirt Mike was currently wearing and nodded. "But, uh, I don’t know about the other stuff. I just want something nice, that won’t make me look a dumb-ass in front of Tina’s family. Just find me something that’ll make me look good, okay? I trust your judgement."
A little perplexed by Mike’s last remark, Kurt steered them toward the store he was looking for.
"For some reason," Mike said, looking up at the sign, "I don’t believe you actually shop at a place called ‘Suit Up!’ With an exclamation point at the end and everything."
"Granted, this isn’t my usual taste," Kurt admitted, "but they have good stuff for people working on a budget. It will be fine, I promise."
"I’m not worried," Mike said. "But I know how particular you are about clothes. I wouldn’t want you to break into hives if you touch non-designer fabric."
Kurt had been awfully sensitive recently to any remark that might even conceal a vague insult to his sexuality, but the friendly smile Mike was giving him and the lack of malice in his voice convinced him that Mike was just being his usual joke-y self. So he smiled in return and lead the way into the store.
"So, you mentioned black shoes, and I presume you have a matching belt?" Mike nodded. "Then I’m thinking we’ll go with a basic black suit. It’s automatically classy, and it fits lots of different occasions."
"That sounds good," Mike said. "I’d like to be able to get more than one use out of it."
"All right, so . . ." Kurt pulled his face into an expression of extreme concentration and studied Mike for a few seconds. Mike, to his credit, did not seem fazed by the scrutiny. "You’re pretty tall and lanky, so I’m going to say single-breasted. Two buttons. Maybe with a vest."
"Sounds great!" Mike said, in way that implied he had no idea what Kurt was talking about. "Lead the way." They made their way over to a rack of suits. Kurt looked over at Mike again and furrowed his brow. This had the potential to be uncomfortable.
"I’m going to need to take some measurements," he said.
"Okay," Mike shrugged. Kurt reached into his bag and pulled out a tailor’s tape measure. Mike started laughing.
"What?" Kurt asked.
"Please tell me you put that in there specifically for this trip," Mike said. Kurt narrowed his eyes at him.
"It’s important to always be prepared."
Mike laughed again. "You’re like a fashion Boy Scout."
"Hmm, yes," Kurt mused, wrapping the tape measure around Mike’s shoulders. "It’s a shame they wouldn’t have me." He sighed inwardly, annoyed with himself for bringing up a gay rights issue to Mike, who probably a) didn’t know what he was talking about, b) wouldn’t really care, and c) might be freaked out by it.
Instead, Mike surprised him when he answered, "Their loss."
Chest measurements finished, he handed Mike the tape measure. "You can do your own waist measurement."
Mike looked confused but obliged. He told Kurt the measurement, and Kurt handed him a suit jacket off the rack.
"Now," Kurt said, "this wouldn’t ordinarily be that important, but I don’t think you’ll have time to get your pants tailored before this weekend, so . . . do you happen to know your inseam measurement?"
Mike just looked at him. Honestly, straight boys.
"I don’t really pay that much attention," Mike admitted. "My mom usually picks out the clothes; I just try them on."
"Your MOM?" Kurt asked, aghast. Mike looked suitably ashamed.
"Y-yes?"
Kurt just shook his head. "It’s like I just found out you still use training wheels on a bicycle. Or listen to Jesse McCartney."
Mike opened his mouth to reply, but apparently thought better of it and closed it again.
"Anyway," Kurt said, "if you don’t know, then, um, I’ll have to take the measurement." He took one last look at Mike’s jeans, hoping he could maybe just measure the pants instead. Nope, Mike was wearing high waters today.
"Okay," Mike said, and handed Kurt back the tape measure.
"Um," Kurt said again. He could feel himself growing a little red in the face because, even though he had never had any feelings of attraction toward Mike Chang, this had the potential to be incredibly awkward.
Mike just smirked at him and spread his legs a little farther apart than they had been. "If it helps," he said, "I dress to the right."
Kurt’s jaw dropped and felt like it had fallen straight into the floor. "You . . . MIKE CHANG!" he said in disbelief. Mike’s smirk grew into an mischievous grin.
"What, did I offend your delicate sensibilities?"
"I--" Kurt stuttered. "Mike Chang!" he said again, his mouth still hanging open. Mike just laughed.
Kurt kneeled down to take the measurement he needed, with a minimal amount of awkwardness thanks to Mike’s diffusing of the situation. He walked over to a table and shuffled through several pairs of pants until he found the right ones.
"Go try everything on," he said, handing Mike the pants.
"Yes, sir!" Mike said, still looking slightly amused. He turned and walked to the fitting rooms.
Five minutes later, he emerged, looking quite dapper.
"Well?" he asked Kurt. "Do I look hot, or do I look hot?"
Kurt, feeling significantly more comfortable around Mike than he had when this endeavor started, quirked an eyebrow and said, "You’re not giving me much of a choice here, are you?" When Mike gave a slight pout in response, Kurt rolled his eyes and added, "But I’ll admit, you do look good."
"For realz?"
"For . . . realz. It’s not a perfect fit, and I think the jacket needs a few alterations for maximum effect, but it will certainly work for a bat mitzvah."
"Sweet."
"Now," Kurt said, putting a hand on Mike’s shoulder and walking him over to the other side of the store, "we just need to find you a tie. How do you feel about bow-ties?"
At the look of horror that crossed Mike’s face at that question, Kurt grinned. "Don’t worry; I’m kidding."
* * *
As a thank you for being his own personal style maven, Mike had insisted on buying Kurt a frozen yogurt. They wandered through the mall window shopping while they ate, Kurt with his small strawberry order and Mike with his enormous chocolate/peanut butter/M&Ms/Butterfinger monstrosity.
"You know, the nutritional advantage frozen yogurt has over ice cream is completely negated when you add that much candy to it," Kurt pointed out. He had to wait for Mike to finish chewing before he could get a reply.
"Who cares about nutrition? Fro-yo is awesome," he finally said. Kurt rolled his in mock disdain as he took another bite of his own dessert. They walked in silence for a few moments before Kurt screwed up the courage to ask what he had wanted to ask for since he’d picked out Mike’s suit.
"Mike?" he said. "If your mom usually buys your clothes for you--"
"Helps me by my clothes," Mike corrected him.
"Whatever. If she usually comes, why didn’t she come with you this time?"
Mike sighed. "This is going to take way more talking to explain than I ever do, so if I get all ramble-y and flail-y, don’t judge, all right?"
"Okay . . ."
"So, like, remember when we were doing Rocky Horror?" Kurt nodded. "Well, when I told Mr. Schue that my parents wouldn’t let me play Frank, I used the word ‘tranny.’ And, uh, Ms. Pillsbury didn’t call me on it right then, because I think I might have interrupted one of those super-awkward talks she and Schuester sometimes have? But she grabbed me in the hall later, and we had a long talk about LGBT rights, with an emphasis on the ‘T,’ and about words you shouldn’t say, and stuff like that, and I walked out of there with like eight pamphlets, and the whole thing got me thinking."
"Okay . . ."
"Because, like, I’ve never had a problem with you. I’ve never cared. I don’t understand why anyone would care, really. But, y’know, I was on the football team for a long time. And I used to have a lot of jock friends, until I joined glee and realized what jerks a lot of them were, and I stopped caring so much what other people thought of me."
"This time last year, you wouldn’t have dated Tina, would you have?"
"No," Mike said, shaking his head. "And, like, I wouldn’t have gone all hate-speech on you, but I wouldn’t have thought that much about anybody else doing it, either. But I get it now. I mean, not in the sense that I have any idea what you go through on a daily basis, but I see it now. And the way the guys treated you for the mash-up contest? Was totally not cool. And I wish I was a more vocal person--"
"Don’t worry about it," Kurt said, because by this point he already had more than enough information to make Mike his new favorite male straight person, and just how damn nice it was to have a favorite male straight person was almost making him cry.
"But I should have said something. I wish I had said something. And I saw how you reacted," Mike said, looking at Kurt with more concern than anyone outside of Blaine had shown him in weeks, "and I meant to do this sooner except the whole substitute thing took over life for a while, but I just wanted you to know that . . . I’m on your side. And I don’t care if you, like, swing a friendly arm around my shoulder or talk about guys you crush on or whatever. So, uh, yeah," he finished, and took a huge bite of his fro-yo in an effort to feel less embarrassed.
"Mike?" Kurt said. "That was maybe the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me." Mike blushed a little. "I . . . don’t really know what else to say, except: thank you."
"You’re welcome," Mike said, "and I’m glad you thought that was really nice, because now I’m going to change gears and yell at you for a while."
"Wait, what?" Kurt asked.
"That was the other reason I wanted to talk to you. You. Mercedes. What the hell, dude?"
"Wait, WHAT?" Kurt asked again, more emphatically this time.
"When you ditch Mercedes to hang out with Mr. Dalton Academy, who do you think she hangs out with? Me and Tina."
Oh, no Mercedes didn’t. "I asked her to keep that a secret! I can’t believe--"
"She didn’t tell us anything."
"Wait, what?"
"All she said was that you had canceled on her and she wanted to hang out. So we watched Charlie’s Angels, which is a terrible movie, and I really should be angry at you for that alone."
"But how did you find out about . . ." Kurt trailed off in case Mike didn’t know his name.
"Blaine?" Dammit. "Facebook stalking. You’re not very good at being sneaky, and Blaine needs to up his privacy settings."
"I know what you’re thinking. But this isn’t some Jesse St. James--"
"I know. That’s not what I’m pissed about."
Kurt raised an eyebrow. ". . . then I’m confused."
"Once we pointed out to Mercedes that we’d figured out about Blaine, she told us about the little speech you gave her. About how you thought she was using you in place of having a boyfriend."
Mike paused there, and they both looked at each other expectantly for a few moments. "And?" Kurt finally asked.
Mike literally face-palmed. "I keep forgetting that you guys didn’t have any friends up until last year and that you’re all social morons."
"Hey!" Kurt interjected, but Mike ignored him.
"Did you hear what I just said? You told your best friend that she was using you as a boyfriend substitute. Instead of, you know, what she was really using you for, which was her best friend."
Kurt stopped walking. "Oh."
"Yeah. Look, I get it. You meet a new person, you want to spend all your time with them. Matt did it to me when he started dating Santana. I did it right back when I started dating Brittany. But that doesn’t mean you get to ditch your friends, and it sure as hell doesn’t mean you get to come up with some bullshit platitude to make yourself feel better about not spending time with them."
"I’m not sure that ‘platitude’ is quite the right word."
"And boxes have six sides. Work with me here, Kurt."
Kurt sighed. "Okay, I get it. But . . . I’ve been going through some stuff, some really hard stuff, and Blaine’s the only person who really understands."
Mike’s look softened. "That’s fair. And it’s nice that you’ve finally found an actually gay dude to hang out with and who might actually return your feelings for once."
"Wait, what?"
"Dude, I’m the quiet guy. I notice things. Like I said, you’re not sneaky, and you’re not very subtle, either, and your crush on Finn lasted a hella long time."
Kurt winced at the memory.
"I’ve also noticed how, even with Blaine, you’ve been more bummed out at school lately. And I’m pretty sure people have been harassing you more." Kurt felt himself start to panic, hoping that he hadn’t noticed anything else. "And if I ever see it, know that I’ve got your back. But things can’t get better until you tell someone about it."
Kurt sighed. "It’s more complicated than that. It’s much more complicated than that."
"Then I’ll trust you to deal with it, but you’ve got friends. Who want to help. You just have to let us know what to do. And not ditch us," Mike added pointedly. "I’m not saying don’t see Blaine. I’m saying get a planner and stop double booking yourself."
"Okay. You make a valid point. I should probably apologize to Mercedes, huh?"
"Yeah, that’d be a good place to start," Mike said as he resumed eating his frozen yogurt. "Also, that Anthony dude’s a jackass. He’s like Puck without the criminal record."
"And . . . I should maybe set Mercedes up with someone I actually know," Kurt said. Mike shot him a look. "Not because of whatever stupid thing I said!" he added. "Just, y’know, because I want her to be as happy with someone as I am with Blaine."
"I thought you two weren’t dating," Mike teased.
"Details," Kurt said with a dismissive motion of his spork.
"Well, I’m sorry that this ended up being a super-crazy intense discussion."
"It’s okay," Kurt said. "I really needed to hear what you had to say. Both the good and bad stuff."
Mike smiled. "Sometime we’ll hang out with no ulterior motives. And I won’t even mind if you bring Blaine along."
Kurt laughed a little. "Thanks. I may take you up on that."
Author: lennoxave
Pairing,Character(s): Kurt, Mike, lots of discussion of Blaine, Mercedes, and Tina
Rating: PG (there's like, one swear word)
Word Count: 3,018
Spoilers: Through 2.07, "The Subsitute"
Summary: Mike needs to buy a suit, so he asks Kurt to help him out. They end up having some epic discussions.
Author's Note: This episode, you guys. I . . . I don't even know how I feel about it. And I try not to write fic in direct response to the show because the show is ridic, and characters jump all over the place, and that makes them super-hard to write. But I tried, because . . . my assumption is that none of this is ever going to get referenced again in canon, so I'm just going to talk about it here and make my own little headcanon. This is my contribution to what I can only assume is going to be a cavalcade of "bitch, please" fic about Kurt and his interactions with Mercedes in this episode, because . . . bitch, please.
Everything You Need To Hear
The name that popped up on his phone was not any of the names Kurt expected to see. Moreover, it was not a name he would have thought would physically call him, rather than just text.
"Mike?" he answered in a slightly confused voice.
"Hey, Kurt," Mike said back.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Kurt asked.
"I have a favor to ask." Ah, that was it. He hadn’t figured it would be a social call. He and Mike talked at school, sure, and now that he and Tina were dating Kurt occasionally saw him outside of McKinley, but they weren’t really very good friends. The call was probably something about glee.
"Go ahead."
"It’s Tina’s cousin’s bat mitzvah this weekend, and I need to buy a suit for it."
"Her cousin’s--"
"On her mom’s side. Her mom was adopted by a Jewish family, so Tina has two Jewish aunts with kids."
"Ah. So that’s how ‘Cohen-Chang’ happened. I’d always wondered. It seemed impolite to ask." He heard Mike laugh a little at that.
"Anyway, I need help finding a suit, and I was wondering if . . . uh, you’d go shopping with me tonight?"
Kurt wanted to shoot Mike an inquisitive look, but he was foiled by lack of physical proximity. "If you don’t mind me asking, why would you go with me and not Tina?"
"This is going to sound weird for me to say, but . . . she dated Artie. I kind of don’t trust her judgement when it comes to guy clothes." Kurt burst out laughing. "Please don’t tell her I said that."
"Don’t worry," Kurt said, still cracking up. "All right, I’ll go. I finished all of my homework today in study hall anyway, so I don’t have any plans. Do you want to go right now?’
"Yeah, if that works for you. And, uh, do you mind driving, too? I don’t have a car."
"That’s fine," Kurt chuckled. "Now, where do you live?"
* * *
"So, what parameters am I dealing with, here?" Kurt asked as they walked into the mall.
"What do you mean?" asked Mike.
"You know: budget, style, color, personal preferences? Do you need a new dress shirt, too? Shoes? Ties?"
"Well, my mom gave me a hundred bucks . . ." Kurt’s jaw dropped, "but I have another hundred saved that I can use." Kurt breathed an audible sigh of relief. He was good, but he wasn’t that good.
"I didn’t know you had a job," he said.
". . . paper route," Mike corrected him.
"That’s . . ." the first word that came to Kurt’s mind was "adorable," but he wasn’t sure how Mike would take that.
"Tina says it’s cute, and that someday I’ll get a big-boy job," Mike told him good-humoredly.
"We’ll go with that, then."
"And I’ve got black dress shoes. And, would this shirt work?" Kurt inspected the white collared shirt Mike was currently wearing and nodded. "But, uh, I don’t know about the other stuff. I just want something nice, that won’t make me look a dumb-ass in front of Tina’s family. Just find me something that’ll make me look good, okay? I trust your judgement."
A little perplexed by Mike’s last remark, Kurt steered them toward the store he was looking for.
"For some reason," Mike said, looking up at the sign, "I don’t believe you actually shop at a place called ‘Suit Up!’ With an exclamation point at the end and everything."
"Granted, this isn’t my usual taste," Kurt admitted, "but they have good stuff for people working on a budget. It will be fine, I promise."
"I’m not worried," Mike said. "But I know how particular you are about clothes. I wouldn’t want you to break into hives if you touch non-designer fabric."
Kurt had been awfully sensitive recently to any remark that might even conceal a vague insult to his sexuality, but the friendly smile Mike was giving him and the lack of malice in his voice convinced him that Mike was just being his usual joke-y self. So he smiled in return and lead the way into the store.
"So, you mentioned black shoes, and I presume you have a matching belt?" Mike nodded. "Then I’m thinking we’ll go with a basic black suit. It’s automatically classy, and it fits lots of different occasions."
"That sounds good," Mike said. "I’d like to be able to get more than one use out of it."
"All right, so . . ." Kurt pulled his face into an expression of extreme concentration and studied Mike for a few seconds. Mike, to his credit, did not seem fazed by the scrutiny. "You’re pretty tall and lanky, so I’m going to say single-breasted. Two buttons. Maybe with a vest."
"Sounds great!" Mike said, in way that implied he had no idea what Kurt was talking about. "Lead the way." They made their way over to a rack of suits. Kurt looked over at Mike again and furrowed his brow. This had the potential to be uncomfortable.
"I’m going to need to take some measurements," he said.
"Okay," Mike shrugged. Kurt reached into his bag and pulled out a tailor’s tape measure. Mike started laughing.
"What?" Kurt asked.
"Please tell me you put that in there specifically for this trip," Mike said. Kurt narrowed his eyes at him.
"It’s important to always be prepared."
Mike laughed again. "You’re like a fashion Boy Scout."
"Hmm, yes," Kurt mused, wrapping the tape measure around Mike’s shoulders. "It’s a shame they wouldn’t have me." He sighed inwardly, annoyed with himself for bringing up a gay rights issue to Mike, who probably a) didn’t know what he was talking about, b) wouldn’t really care, and c) might be freaked out by it.
Instead, Mike surprised him when he answered, "Their loss."
Chest measurements finished, he handed Mike the tape measure. "You can do your own waist measurement."
Mike looked confused but obliged. He told Kurt the measurement, and Kurt handed him a suit jacket off the rack.
"Now," Kurt said, "this wouldn’t ordinarily be that important, but I don’t think you’ll have time to get your pants tailored before this weekend, so . . . do you happen to know your inseam measurement?"
Mike just looked at him. Honestly, straight boys.
"I don’t really pay that much attention," Mike admitted. "My mom usually picks out the clothes; I just try them on."
"Your MOM?" Kurt asked, aghast. Mike looked suitably ashamed.
"Y-yes?"
Kurt just shook his head. "It’s like I just found out you still use training wheels on a bicycle. Or listen to Jesse McCartney."
Mike opened his mouth to reply, but apparently thought better of it and closed it again.
"Anyway," Kurt said, "if you don’t know, then, um, I’ll have to take the measurement." He took one last look at Mike’s jeans, hoping he could maybe just measure the pants instead. Nope, Mike was wearing high waters today.
"Okay," Mike said, and handed Kurt back the tape measure.
"Um," Kurt said again. He could feel himself growing a little red in the face because, even though he had never had any feelings of attraction toward Mike Chang, this had the potential to be incredibly awkward.
Mike just smirked at him and spread his legs a little farther apart than they had been. "If it helps," he said, "I dress to the right."
Kurt’s jaw dropped and felt like it had fallen straight into the floor. "You . . . MIKE CHANG!" he said in disbelief. Mike’s smirk grew into an mischievous grin.
"What, did I offend your delicate sensibilities?"
"I--" Kurt stuttered. "Mike Chang!" he said again, his mouth still hanging open. Mike just laughed.
Kurt kneeled down to take the measurement he needed, with a minimal amount of awkwardness thanks to Mike’s diffusing of the situation. He walked over to a table and shuffled through several pairs of pants until he found the right ones.
"Go try everything on," he said, handing Mike the pants.
"Yes, sir!" Mike said, still looking slightly amused. He turned and walked to the fitting rooms.
Five minutes later, he emerged, looking quite dapper.
"Well?" he asked Kurt. "Do I look hot, or do I look hot?"
Kurt, feeling significantly more comfortable around Mike than he had when this endeavor started, quirked an eyebrow and said, "You’re not giving me much of a choice here, are you?" When Mike gave a slight pout in response, Kurt rolled his eyes and added, "But I’ll admit, you do look good."
"For realz?"
"For . . . realz. It’s not a perfect fit, and I think the jacket needs a few alterations for maximum effect, but it will certainly work for a bat mitzvah."
"Sweet."
"Now," Kurt said, putting a hand on Mike’s shoulder and walking him over to the other side of the store, "we just need to find you a tie. How do you feel about bow-ties?"
At the look of horror that crossed Mike’s face at that question, Kurt grinned. "Don’t worry; I’m kidding."
* * *
As a thank you for being his own personal style maven, Mike had insisted on buying Kurt a frozen yogurt. They wandered through the mall window shopping while they ate, Kurt with his small strawberry order and Mike with his enormous chocolate/peanut butter/M&Ms/Butterfinger monstrosity.
"You know, the nutritional advantage frozen yogurt has over ice cream is completely negated when you add that much candy to it," Kurt pointed out. He had to wait for Mike to finish chewing before he could get a reply.
"Who cares about nutrition? Fro-yo is awesome," he finally said. Kurt rolled his in mock disdain as he took another bite of his own dessert. They walked in silence for a few moments before Kurt screwed up the courage to ask what he had wanted to ask for since he’d picked out Mike’s suit.
"Mike?" he said. "If your mom usually buys your clothes for you--"
"Helps me by my clothes," Mike corrected him.
"Whatever. If she usually comes, why didn’t she come with you this time?"
Mike sighed. "This is going to take way more talking to explain than I ever do, so if I get all ramble-y and flail-y, don’t judge, all right?"
"Okay . . ."
"So, like, remember when we were doing Rocky Horror?" Kurt nodded. "Well, when I told Mr. Schue that my parents wouldn’t let me play Frank, I used the word ‘tranny.’ And, uh, Ms. Pillsbury didn’t call me on it right then, because I think I might have interrupted one of those super-awkward talks she and Schuester sometimes have? But she grabbed me in the hall later, and we had a long talk about LGBT rights, with an emphasis on the ‘T,’ and about words you shouldn’t say, and stuff like that, and I walked out of there with like eight pamphlets, and the whole thing got me thinking."
"Okay . . ."
"Because, like, I’ve never had a problem with you. I’ve never cared. I don’t understand why anyone would care, really. But, y’know, I was on the football team for a long time. And I used to have a lot of jock friends, until I joined glee and realized what jerks a lot of them were, and I stopped caring so much what other people thought of me."
"This time last year, you wouldn’t have dated Tina, would you have?"
"No," Mike said, shaking his head. "And, like, I wouldn’t have gone all hate-speech on you, but I wouldn’t have thought that much about anybody else doing it, either. But I get it now. I mean, not in the sense that I have any idea what you go through on a daily basis, but I see it now. And the way the guys treated you for the mash-up contest? Was totally not cool. And I wish I was a more vocal person--"
"Don’t worry about it," Kurt said, because by this point he already had more than enough information to make Mike his new favorite male straight person, and just how damn nice it was to have a favorite male straight person was almost making him cry.
"But I should have said something. I wish I had said something. And I saw how you reacted," Mike said, looking at Kurt with more concern than anyone outside of Blaine had shown him in weeks, "and I meant to do this sooner except the whole substitute thing took over life for a while, but I just wanted you to know that . . . I’m on your side. And I don’t care if you, like, swing a friendly arm around my shoulder or talk about guys you crush on or whatever. So, uh, yeah," he finished, and took a huge bite of his fro-yo in an effort to feel less embarrassed.
"Mike?" Kurt said. "That was maybe the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me." Mike blushed a little. "I . . . don’t really know what else to say, except: thank you."
"You’re welcome," Mike said, "and I’m glad you thought that was really nice, because now I’m going to change gears and yell at you for a while."
"Wait, what?" Kurt asked.
"That was the other reason I wanted to talk to you. You. Mercedes. What the hell, dude?"
"Wait, WHAT?" Kurt asked again, more emphatically this time.
"When you ditch Mercedes to hang out with Mr. Dalton Academy, who do you think she hangs out with? Me and Tina."
Oh, no Mercedes didn’t. "I asked her to keep that a secret! I can’t believe--"
"She didn’t tell us anything."
"Wait, what?"
"All she said was that you had canceled on her and she wanted to hang out. So we watched Charlie’s Angels, which is a terrible movie, and I really should be angry at you for that alone."
"But how did you find out about . . ." Kurt trailed off in case Mike didn’t know his name.
"Blaine?" Dammit. "Facebook stalking. You’re not very good at being sneaky, and Blaine needs to up his privacy settings."
"I know what you’re thinking. But this isn’t some Jesse St. James--"
"I know. That’s not what I’m pissed about."
Kurt raised an eyebrow. ". . . then I’m confused."
"Once we pointed out to Mercedes that we’d figured out about Blaine, she told us about the little speech you gave her. About how you thought she was using you in place of having a boyfriend."
Mike paused there, and they both looked at each other expectantly for a few moments. "And?" Kurt finally asked.
Mike literally face-palmed. "I keep forgetting that you guys didn’t have any friends up until last year and that you’re all social morons."
"Hey!" Kurt interjected, but Mike ignored him.
"Did you hear what I just said? You told your best friend that she was using you as a boyfriend substitute. Instead of, you know, what she was really using you for, which was her best friend."
Kurt stopped walking. "Oh."
"Yeah. Look, I get it. You meet a new person, you want to spend all your time with them. Matt did it to me when he started dating Santana. I did it right back when I started dating Brittany. But that doesn’t mean you get to ditch your friends, and it sure as hell doesn’t mean you get to come up with some bullshit platitude to make yourself feel better about not spending time with them."
"I’m not sure that ‘platitude’ is quite the right word."
"And boxes have six sides. Work with me here, Kurt."
Kurt sighed. "Okay, I get it. But . . . I’ve been going through some stuff, some really hard stuff, and Blaine’s the only person who really understands."
Mike’s look softened. "That’s fair. And it’s nice that you’ve finally found an actually gay dude to hang out with and who might actually return your feelings for once."
"Wait, what?"
"Dude, I’m the quiet guy. I notice things. Like I said, you’re not sneaky, and you’re not very subtle, either, and your crush on Finn lasted a hella long time."
Kurt winced at the memory.
"I’ve also noticed how, even with Blaine, you’ve been more bummed out at school lately. And I’m pretty sure people have been harassing you more." Kurt felt himself start to panic, hoping that he hadn’t noticed anything else. "And if I ever see it, know that I’ve got your back. But things can’t get better until you tell someone about it."
Kurt sighed. "It’s more complicated than that. It’s much more complicated than that."
"Then I’ll trust you to deal with it, but you’ve got friends. Who want to help. You just have to let us know what to do. And not ditch us," Mike added pointedly. "I’m not saying don’t see Blaine. I’m saying get a planner and stop double booking yourself."
"Okay. You make a valid point. I should probably apologize to Mercedes, huh?"
"Yeah, that’d be a good place to start," Mike said as he resumed eating his frozen yogurt. "Also, that Anthony dude’s a jackass. He’s like Puck without the criminal record."
"And . . . I should maybe set Mercedes up with someone I actually know," Kurt said. Mike shot him a look. "Not because of whatever stupid thing I said!" he added. "Just, y’know, because I want her to be as happy with someone as I am with Blaine."
"I thought you two weren’t dating," Mike teased.
"Details," Kurt said with a dismissive motion of his spork.
"Well, I’m sorry that this ended up being a super-crazy intense discussion."
"It’s okay," Kurt said. "I really needed to hear what you had to say. Both the good and bad stuff."
Mike smiled. "Sometime we’ll hang out with no ulterior motives. And I won’t even mind if you bring Blaine along."
Kurt laughed a little. "Thanks. I may take you up on that."