Fic: But Now, Here We Are
Media: Fic
Title: But Now, Here We Are (Part 1 of Need a Second to Breathe)
Author/Artist: likethedirection
Friendship/Pairings: Dave+Kurt, Kurt+Finn, itsy-bitsy blurb of Blaine/Kurt
Spoilers: Everything through 3x05
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Summary: Two late-night conversations from 3x05, both ending with good-night.
A/N: Good news - I’m not dead! Less good news - the Glee kids have been giving me the cold shoulder since I neglected them over the holidays. Consider this an attempt to get my mojo back so I can see through my other unfinished projects. (Apologies for any writing/plot weirdness. It’s been a while.)
Delayed reaction piece to the events of 3x05, “The First Time,” an episode that gave me SO MANY FEELINGS. Funnily enough, this sort of turned into a mirror of the very first Glee-thing I ever posted on LJ, another two-shot titled Between Two Lungs. This could easily exist in that same universe, so however you want to see it. (Some residual feelings about the events of 3x10 as well.)
Not gonna lie. This thing was self-indulgence at its finest.
~*~
It was one hour after Blaine had stormed off, fifty-eight minutes after Kurt had realized Blaine was walking home drunk near a seedy gay bar, fifty-five minutes after he’d chased him down and muscled him into the backseat to drive him silently home, thirty minutes after Kurt had leaned against his own front door and tried not to cry, and ten minutes after he had been snapped at for no reason by Finn, snapped back, and retreated to his room for exfoliating and comfy sweats, that Kurt noticed he had a text message.
He looked warily at the notification screen.
“If you are from Blaine, I am deleting you,” he murmured. Then he opened the message.
It wasn’t from Blaine.
>>David K: heard u yellin u ok
Kurt let out all his breath at once, deflating, and dropped his face into his hand, remembering that oh yeah, he was a terrible human being. He’d just left him at the bar. Not a word of warning, not even a ‘nice talking to you.’ Because of stupid Sebastian and stupid Blaine drinking stupid beer and basically having clothed sex on the dance floor.
(He stopped thinking about Blaine then, about that bar and that parking lot and the backseat of his car, because it made something cold grip in the pit of his stomach.)
He looked back at the message.
Talking to Dave had been…nice. Still a bit tense, perhaps, but nice. Low-drama. Almost easy. He hadn’t been Karofsky in that bar--he had been Dave. Dave, who smiled and wore baseball caps and rather eerily resembled Kurt’s dad.
It was strangely comforting, really.
Comforting. Yeah. That would be good.
Kurt hit Redial.
Dave answered on the second ring, and Kurt cleared his throat. “Hi.”
“Hey.”
“I, um. I just got your text. Sorry for not responding until now.”
“No problem,” Dave said, and it felt like it really wasn’t. “Just thought I’d check. Haven’t heard you yell like that in a while.”
Kurt surprised himself with a laugh; he had a feeling he knew exactly how long ‘a while’ was. “I would imagine.”
He dropped into silence, and he knew this was the part where he was supposed to say, ‘Well, I’m fine, but thanks for checking,’ and leave Dave to enjoy the rest of his night. Instead, he hesitated. “I...want to apologize for running off and leaving you at the bar like that. It was rude. Apparently I forget all my manners when I’m feeling territorial.”
Dave chuckled quietly. “It’s cool. I get it.”
“Still.” Kurt traced the woodwork on his vanity with his fingernail, feeling strange and off-balance and like if he hung up, he might fall to pieces. “So…you’re really okay? At the new school?”
“Yeah,” Dave said. “I mean, it’s a new school. Whatever. But it’s a clean slate, you know?”
Kurt smiled, ducking his eyes. “I know.”
On the other end of the line was a quick exhale. “Yeah, guess you do.”
“Are you...making friends?”
“Guys on the football team are all right. Not painting each other’s nails and trading friendship bracelets or anything, but they’re cool. Pretty much just trying to keep my head down, though. Senior year, everyone’s kinda got their niche.”
“Yeah,” Kurt said quietly. The openness in Dave’s voice, and the shade of sadness, made guilt grip him to the core. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. For not…being supportive. Before.”
“Uh, I was stalking you like a psycho. I wouldn’t have supported me.”
“Did anyone?” Kurt asked, feeling small, and Dave sighed.
“Not really,” he said, sounding unbothered, if a little quieter. “S’mostly why I’m here now. Balancing act wasn’t worth it anymore.”
“I suppose not,” Kurt said. “In any case, I…I’m sorry I didn’t handle the situation better.”
“You and me both,” Dave said softly, and Kurt smiled. “Gonna need you to quit apologizing now, though.”
Kurt breathed a laugh. “I will if you will.”
“Deal.” Dave said with a faint smile in his voice. “So you ever gonna answer if you’re okay?”
“Oh. Right. Yeah, I’m fine,” Kurt said, too quickly. “Blaine was just drunk and he scared me a little, so I yelled at him, and then he yelled back and stormed off, and…yeah. Lots of yelling.”
Dave was quiet a moment. “How’d he scare you?”
Kurt grimaced, because he really hadn’t meant to say that part.
“Just...you know. People are unpredictable when they’re drunk. I’m an old-fashioned boy. I like predictable. And he was wrinkling my outfit practically beyond repair. Few things can inspire fear in Kurt Hummel more quickly than a ruined wardrobe.”
It was possibly the worst lie Kurt had ever told since the Phase Which Must Not Be Named sophomore year, and he smacked a hand to his forehead as soon as it was out of his mouth.
To his credit, Dave didn’t laugh at him outright. “Gonna go ahead and not buy it,” he said slowly, and Kurt dropped his hand back to his side. “Look, you don’t have to tell me what happened. Not my business. Just making sure you weren’t getting kidnapped or something while I was getting chatted up by Cher.”
A laugh bubbled out of Kurt, and he covered it with his hand. “Well, now I know I should have stayed.”
“Yeah, then I could have gotten the fuck out of there while she spent a half hour on your lap.”
“Oh, my.”
“Yeah, no way.”
“Don’t believe in life after love, huh?”
Dave sadly replied, “Really don’t think I’m strong enough.”
Kurt really did laugh this time, hard enough that his eyes began to water, and he could hear Dave snickering on the other end of the line, and for a few seconds it was like Sebastian and Blaine and the backseat had never happened.
“Thank you,” Kurt gasped when he’d finally gotten himself under control. “Thank you for that. I needed that.”
“Live to serve,” Dave said through a smile. “And she didn’t get handsy or anything, so it’s all good.”
Slowly, Kurt sobered. “Does...that happen? I mean, if you’re going there by yourself...is it safe?”
“They’re cool there,” Dave said. “Half of them know I’m underage. Pretty sure all of them knew you were.”
“Hey, now.”
“Seriously?”
Kurt sighed. “I did find dubious that we made it past the door. Blaine is two feet tall and I started panicking as soon as the guy took my ID. I think I said ‘aloha’ at one point.”
Dave laughed, and Kurt was amazed at how easy it was to get used to that sound. “I freaked out my first time, too. Thing is, they’re used to high school kids showing up there. Lima’s a hick town. They know there aren’t a lot of places we...we can go to just exist for a while.”
Kurt found himself nodding, unexpectedly touched.
“So they’re pretty lenient about the age limit there. The cops don’t wanna deal with the place, so they kinda pretend it doesn’t exist. So they aren’t too scared about legal action, or anything. And there are a few regulars who’ve been going there since it opened--know the owner and everything--and they’re the ones who make sure we don’t get into too much trouble.” There was a rustling, like he was switching ears. “I did get a couple creeps in my business the first month or two, but Evan and Karla got a whiff of it and tossed them out the door so fast I barely even knew what happened.”
Something slowly uncoiled in Kurt’s stomach. “That’s good.”
“Yeah. Evan’s a cool guy. Sounds kind of weird that I’m friends with him, since he’s like, forty? But we shoot pool sometimes. Talk. It’s cool, because he’s--he used to be...like me. But now he does all this stuff for gay rights. Youth programs and stuff. Counseling.” Dave’s voice animated as he spoke, admiration shining through. “He’s helped me a lot.”
Kurt smiled. “So they really are looking out for you.”
“You, too,” Dave said quietly, and Kurt snapped to attention.
“What?”
“Yeah,” Dave said. “Heard them talking about some hawks checking out the ‘sweet little chicken at the bar.’ Karla’s words, not mine. She was gonna park it and talk at you until they left, but I saw it was you and so...you know.”
There was too much new information for Kurt’s tired brain to deal with in those three sentences, so it zeroed in on just one piece.
“Chicken.”
“S’what she said.”
“I’m a chicken.”
“Makes you feel any better, your boyfriend is a pocket gay.”
Kurt blinked. “A what?”
“Pocket gay. Like you can fit him in your pocket.” It sounded like he was trying not to smile. “‘Cause he’s short as fuck.”
Kurt sputtered a little. “Oh my God. Pokéblaine.” Dave laughed into his ear, and Kurt bit his lip to keep from getting the giggles himself. “That actually does make me feel better. Clearly I’m a terrible boyfriend.”
“Well, yeah. Sitting by yourself at the bar while he grinds on another guy all night, then driving him home after? What an asshole.”
“Wait. There was grinding?”
Dave chuckled. “Retract the claws. I was just saying shit.”
Kurt let out his breath, stretching his thumb and forefinger across his eyes. “Don’t joke about that. The last time he got drunk, he spent the evening doing the tongue-tango with Rachel Berry.”
“Dude. Gross.”
“Right? After which he slept in my bed and tried nothing all night. But then tonight he wants--”
He caught himself a little too late and grimaced. He shook his head, even though Dave couldn’t see him. “Well, anyway. I’m sure you didn’t sign up for a rant on my boyfriend’s sexy liquor adventures. Sorry.”
Dave was quiet for a long time, and when he spoke again, his voice was low like a secret. “Did he hurt you?”
There wasn’t much use deflecting now, and Kurt sighed. “No. No, he just...he scared me. He stopped,” he added, because that was important, “but for a second...I-I just got freaked out. It’s fine, though. I mean, I’m fine. We’ll be fine.”
The pause on the other end told Kurt he probably didn’t sound too convincing now, either, but Dave didn’t call him on it this time. “Anything I can do?”
Kurt grinned, because however horrible Karofsky might have been, Dave was turning out to be rather sweet. Tentatively, he replied, “This?”
Dave exhaled in the shape of a smile. Kurt ducked his eyes, feeling shy all of a sudden.
After a second, Dave cleared his throat, and there was some more shuffling, like he was settling in. “So am I totally losing my mind, or did I see your dad calling out Sue Sylvester on live TV?”
“Oh, God,” Kurt groaned, finally leaving the vanity and flopping flat on his back on his bed. “No, you are not crazy, but I think I might be. Or my dad. We all know Coach Sylvester is.” Dave made an amused sound, and Kurt threw his arm over his eyes. “I thought it was a good idea at first, but now...I don’t know.”
“I don’t think it’s the worst idea,” Dave offered, and Kurt could almost hear the shrug in his voice. “Seem to remember your dad being kind of a badass.”
“Oh, he’s great,” Kurt said, though he did flash for a moment on the moment his dad had chased Karofsky down the hall and pinned him to the wall, how he had never felt so utterly terrified and utterly protected at the same time. “This is a whole new world for him, and he’s...thriving, really. But there’s so much stress, and I just...I worry about him. And he doesn’t think it will be a problem if and when someone zeroes in on the fact that he has a gay son, but he’s obviously forgotten about the phone calls we used to get, and how much they upset him. And those were just the times he got to the phone first.”
Dave was quiet, and Kurt got his breath, unable to stop the words from spilling out now that there was nothing stopping them. “Some of them were...really bad. There were threats, reminders about how easy it was to find an address when you knew the phone number...one, when my dad was in the hospital, said God was taking my parents because fags don’t deserve...”
“Don’t deserve what?” Dave asked, stiff and a little hoarse.
Kurt shook his head. “I hung up.”
Dave sighed. “That’s...really shitty.”
“Pretty much,” Kurt mumbled. “That’s the last time I got a call like that, but I’m pretty sure that’s because I was in Westerville. And I just know that the second my dad makes any headway, our lives will suddenly be under this spotlight. This...microscope. It’s going to start again, and I’m...not doing a great job of encouraging you to embrace the gay life, am I?”
A laugh, but it was weak. “That’s your angle, huh?”
“No,” Kurt said immediately, shaking his head at himself. “No. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m trying to be better at bonding with others without having an angle. With...varied success.”
This time the laugh was real, and Kurt pulled his arm away from his face, beaming a little at the ceiling. Tentatively, Dave said, “So, we’re bonding?”
“I would say so,” Kurt said through a rather stupidly big smile. “Considering, I would say we’re definitely coming along.”
“I’d say so, too.”
Kurt’s voice dropped to almost a whisper on its own. “Thank you for texting me. I...I think I needed it more than I thought I did.”
Almost gently, Dave said, “Anytime.”
“Careful. I might take you up on that.”
“As long as we’re not singing Cher, I’m cool with it.”
“Damn. There goes my plan for our next bonding session.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“You should be. I was going to make costumes. Figured when we were done with them, I could peddle them at the next Drag Queen Night.”
Dave broke first, and the smile stayed in his voice, even as it quieted. “It was...” He cleared his throat. “It was pretty cool. Seeing you there.”
“Likewise,” Kurt said. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to sneak out there again, but if I did, it would be comforting to have someone to talk to other than my boyfriend and the guy who’s eye-sexing him.”
“Yeah. Yeah, let me know. I mean, if...yeah. My dad barely notices I’m around now that I’m not dragging him to the principal’s office to defend my character three times a month, so whenever. I can be there.”
The tug of sadness crept back into Kurt’s chest, but something in Dave’s tone told him not to go there, so he just said, “I’ll let you know. Definitely.”
“Cool.”
“Well,” Kurt said, finally sitting up and crossing his legs on the mattress, “if you ever get tired of ‘keeping your head down,’ give me a call.”
Dave snorted and said, “Uhh...” and Kurt realized how that had sounded.
Clapping a hand to his face, he groaned, “Oh, shut up! You know what I meant.” Dave just chuckled even more helplessly, and Kurt sighed loudly. “Such a boy. I think it’s someone’s bedtime.”
“It might kinda be stupid-in-the-morning,” Dave admitted, still laughing.
“Clearly. I’m going to go before any more of my well-intentioned offers are twisted into offers of self-whoring.”
“Aw, don’t be like that.”
Kurt’s face was actually starting to hurt from smiling so much. “I’ve genuinely enjoyed chatting with you, Mr. Bear Cub.”
“We should do this again, Chickadee.”
Kurt snorted--he actually snorted. “Chickadee? You are officially my grandpa.”
Dave exhaled a laugh. “Night, Kurt.”
“Good night, Dave.”
Kurt hung up the phone, looked at it a moment with a smile that hadn’t quite faded, and then flopped onto his back again, taking a deep breath in and slowly out.
Okay.
He could do this.
Companion: ‘Cause You’re Doing It Perfectly
~*~
A/N: I JUST REALLY LOVE DAVE OKAY.
Title: But Now, Here We Are (Part 1 of Need a Second to Breathe)
Author/Artist: likethedirection
Friendship/Pairings: Dave+Kurt, Kurt+Finn, itsy-bitsy blurb of Blaine/Kurt
Spoilers: Everything through 3x05
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Summary: Two late-night conversations from 3x05, both ending with good-night.
A/N: Good news - I’m not dead! Less good news - the Glee kids have been giving me the cold shoulder since I neglected them over the holidays. Consider this an attempt to get my mojo back so I can see through my other unfinished projects. (Apologies for any writing/plot weirdness. It’s been a while.)
Delayed reaction piece to the events of 3x05, “The First Time,” an episode that gave me SO MANY FEELINGS. Funnily enough, this sort of turned into a mirror of the very first Glee-thing I ever posted on LJ, another two-shot titled Between Two Lungs. This could easily exist in that same universe, so however you want to see it. (Some residual feelings about the events of 3x10 as well.)
Not gonna lie. This thing was self-indulgence at its finest.
~*~
It was one hour after Blaine had stormed off, fifty-eight minutes after Kurt had realized Blaine was walking home drunk near a seedy gay bar, fifty-five minutes after he’d chased him down and muscled him into the backseat to drive him silently home, thirty minutes after Kurt had leaned against his own front door and tried not to cry, and ten minutes after he had been snapped at for no reason by Finn, snapped back, and retreated to his room for exfoliating and comfy sweats, that Kurt noticed he had a text message.
He looked warily at the notification screen.
“If you are from Blaine, I am deleting you,” he murmured. Then he opened the message.
It wasn’t from Blaine.
>>David K: heard u yellin u ok
Kurt let out all his breath at once, deflating, and dropped his face into his hand, remembering that oh yeah, he was a terrible human being. He’d just left him at the bar. Not a word of warning, not even a ‘nice talking to you.’ Because of stupid Sebastian and stupid Blaine drinking stupid beer and basically having clothed sex on the dance floor.
(He stopped thinking about Blaine then, about that bar and that parking lot and the backseat of his car, because it made something cold grip in the pit of his stomach.)
He looked back at the message.
Talking to Dave had been…nice. Still a bit tense, perhaps, but nice. Low-drama. Almost easy. He hadn’t been Karofsky in that bar--he had been Dave. Dave, who smiled and wore baseball caps and rather eerily resembled Kurt’s dad.
It was strangely comforting, really.
Comforting. Yeah. That would be good.
Kurt hit Redial.
Dave answered on the second ring, and Kurt cleared his throat. “Hi.”
“Hey.”
“I, um. I just got your text. Sorry for not responding until now.”
“No problem,” Dave said, and it felt like it really wasn’t. “Just thought I’d check. Haven’t heard you yell like that in a while.”
Kurt surprised himself with a laugh; he had a feeling he knew exactly how long ‘a while’ was. “I would imagine.”
He dropped into silence, and he knew this was the part where he was supposed to say, ‘Well, I’m fine, but thanks for checking,’ and leave Dave to enjoy the rest of his night. Instead, he hesitated. “I...want to apologize for running off and leaving you at the bar like that. It was rude. Apparently I forget all my manners when I’m feeling territorial.”
Dave chuckled quietly. “It’s cool. I get it.”
“Still.” Kurt traced the woodwork on his vanity with his fingernail, feeling strange and off-balance and like if he hung up, he might fall to pieces. “So…you’re really okay? At the new school?”
“Yeah,” Dave said. “I mean, it’s a new school. Whatever. But it’s a clean slate, you know?”
Kurt smiled, ducking his eyes. “I know.”
On the other end of the line was a quick exhale. “Yeah, guess you do.”
“Are you...making friends?”
“Guys on the football team are all right. Not painting each other’s nails and trading friendship bracelets or anything, but they’re cool. Pretty much just trying to keep my head down, though. Senior year, everyone’s kinda got their niche.”
“Yeah,” Kurt said quietly. The openness in Dave’s voice, and the shade of sadness, made guilt grip him to the core. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. For not…being supportive. Before.”
“Uh, I was stalking you like a psycho. I wouldn’t have supported me.”
“Did anyone?” Kurt asked, feeling small, and Dave sighed.
“Not really,” he said, sounding unbothered, if a little quieter. “S’mostly why I’m here now. Balancing act wasn’t worth it anymore.”
“I suppose not,” Kurt said. “In any case, I…I’m sorry I didn’t handle the situation better.”
“You and me both,” Dave said softly, and Kurt smiled. “Gonna need you to quit apologizing now, though.”
Kurt breathed a laugh. “I will if you will.”
“Deal.” Dave said with a faint smile in his voice. “So you ever gonna answer if you’re okay?”
“Oh. Right. Yeah, I’m fine,” Kurt said, too quickly. “Blaine was just drunk and he scared me a little, so I yelled at him, and then he yelled back and stormed off, and…yeah. Lots of yelling.”
Dave was quiet a moment. “How’d he scare you?”
Kurt grimaced, because he really hadn’t meant to say that part.
“Just...you know. People are unpredictable when they’re drunk. I’m an old-fashioned boy. I like predictable. And he was wrinkling my outfit practically beyond repair. Few things can inspire fear in Kurt Hummel more quickly than a ruined wardrobe.”
It was possibly the worst lie Kurt had ever told since the Phase Which Must Not Be Named sophomore year, and he smacked a hand to his forehead as soon as it was out of his mouth.
To his credit, Dave didn’t laugh at him outright. “Gonna go ahead and not buy it,” he said slowly, and Kurt dropped his hand back to his side. “Look, you don’t have to tell me what happened. Not my business. Just making sure you weren’t getting kidnapped or something while I was getting chatted up by Cher.”
A laugh bubbled out of Kurt, and he covered it with his hand. “Well, now I know I should have stayed.”
“Yeah, then I could have gotten the fuck out of there while she spent a half hour on your lap.”
“Oh, my.”
“Yeah, no way.”
“Don’t believe in life after love, huh?”
Dave sadly replied, “Really don’t think I’m strong enough.”
Kurt really did laugh this time, hard enough that his eyes began to water, and he could hear Dave snickering on the other end of the line, and for a few seconds it was like Sebastian and Blaine and the backseat had never happened.
“Thank you,” Kurt gasped when he’d finally gotten himself under control. “Thank you for that. I needed that.”
“Live to serve,” Dave said through a smile. “And she didn’t get handsy or anything, so it’s all good.”
Slowly, Kurt sobered. “Does...that happen? I mean, if you’re going there by yourself...is it safe?”
“They’re cool there,” Dave said. “Half of them know I’m underage. Pretty sure all of them knew you were.”
“Hey, now.”
“Seriously?”
Kurt sighed. “I did find dubious that we made it past the door. Blaine is two feet tall and I started panicking as soon as the guy took my ID. I think I said ‘aloha’ at one point.”
Dave laughed, and Kurt was amazed at how easy it was to get used to that sound. “I freaked out my first time, too. Thing is, they’re used to high school kids showing up there. Lima’s a hick town. They know there aren’t a lot of places we...we can go to just exist for a while.”
Kurt found himself nodding, unexpectedly touched.
“So they’re pretty lenient about the age limit there. The cops don’t wanna deal with the place, so they kinda pretend it doesn’t exist. So they aren’t too scared about legal action, or anything. And there are a few regulars who’ve been going there since it opened--know the owner and everything--and they’re the ones who make sure we don’t get into too much trouble.” There was a rustling, like he was switching ears. “I did get a couple creeps in my business the first month or two, but Evan and Karla got a whiff of it and tossed them out the door so fast I barely even knew what happened.”
Something slowly uncoiled in Kurt’s stomach. “That’s good.”
“Yeah. Evan’s a cool guy. Sounds kind of weird that I’m friends with him, since he’s like, forty? But we shoot pool sometimes. Talk. It’s cool, because he’s--he used to be...like me. But now he does all this stuff for gay rights. Youth programs and stuff. Counseling.” Dave’s voice animated as he spoke, admiration shining through. “He’s helped me a lot.”
Kurt smiled. “So they really are looking out for you.”
“You, too,” Dave said quietly, and Kurt snapped to attention.
“What?”
“Yeah,” Dave said. “Heard them talking about some hawks checking out the ‘sweet little chicken at the bar.’ Karla’s words, not mine. She was gonna park it and talk at you until they left, but I saw it was you and so...you know.”
There was too much new information for Kurt’s tired brain to deal with in those three sentences, so it zeroed in on just one piece.
“Chicken.”
“S’what she said.”
“I’m a chicken.”
“Makes you feel any better, your boyfriend is a pocket gay.”
Kurt blinked. “A what?”
“Pocket gay. Like you can fit him in your pocket.” It sounded like he was trying not to smile. “‘Cause he’s short as fuck.”
Kurt sputtered a little. “Oh my God. Pokéblaine.” Dave laughed into his ear, and Kurt bit his lip to keep from getting the giggles himself. “That actually does make me feel better. Clearly I’m a terrible boyfriend.”
“Well, yeah. Sitting by yourself at the bar while he grinds on another guy all night, then driving him home after? What an asshole.”
“Wait. There was grinding?”
Dave chuckled. “Retract the claws. I was just saying shit.”
Kurt let out his breath, stretching his thumb and forefinger across his eyes. “Don’t joke about that. The last time he got drunk, he spent the evening doing the tongue-tango with Rachel Berry.”
“Dude. Gross.”
“Right? After which he slept in my bed and tried nothing all night. But then tonight he wants--”
He caught himself a little too late and grimaced. He shook his head, even though Dave couldn’t see him. “Well, anyway. I’m sure you didn’t sign up for a rant on my boyfriend’s sexy liquor adventures. Sorry.”
Dave was quiet for a long time, and when he spoke again, his voice was low like a secret. “Did he hurt you?”
There wasn’t much use deflecting now, and Kurt sighed. “No. No, he just...he scared me. He stopped,” he added, because that was important, “but for a second...I-I just got freaked out. It’s fine, though. I mean, I’m fine. We’ll be fine.”
The pause on the other end told Kurt he probably didn’t sound too convincing now, either, but Dave didn’t call him on it this time. “Anything I can do?”
Kurt grinned, because however horrible Karofsky might have been, Dave was turning out to be rather sweet. Tentatively, he replied, “This?”
Dave exhaled in the shape of a smile. Kurt ducked his eyes, feeling shy all of a sudden.
After a second, Dave cleared his throat, and there was some more shuffling, like he was settling in. “So am I totally losing my mind, or did I see your dad calling out Sue Sylvester on live TV?”
“Oh, God,” Kurt groaned, finally leaving the vanity and flopping flat on his back on his bed. “No, you are not crazy, but I think I might be. Or my dad. We all know Coach Sylvester is.” Dave made an amused sound, and Kurt threw his arm over his eyes. “I thought it was a good idea at first, but now...I don’t know.”
“I don’t think it’s the worst idea,” Dave offered, and Kurt could almost hear the shrug in his voice. “Seem to remember your dad being kind of a badass.”
“Oh, he’s great,” Kurt said, though he did flash for a moment on the moment his dad had chased Karofsky down the hall and pinned him to the wall, how he had never felt so utterly terrified and utterly protected at the same time. “This is a whole new world for him, and he’s...thriving, really. But there’s so much stress, and I just...I worry about him. And he doesn’t think it will be a problem if and when someone zeroes in on the fact that he has a gay son, but he’s obviously forgotten about the phone calls we used to get, and how much they upset him. And those were just the times he got to the phone first.”
Dave was quiet, and Kurt got his breath, unable to stop the words from spilling out now that there was nothing stopping them. “Some of them were...really bad. There were threats, reminders about how easy it was to find an address when you knew the phone number...one, when my dad was in the hospital, said God was taking my parents because fags don’t deserve...”
“Don’t deserve what?” Dave asked, stiff and a little hoarse.
Kurt shook his head. “I hung up.”
Dave sighed. “That’s...really shitty.”
“Pretty much,” Kurt mumbled. “That’s the last time I got a call like that, but I’m pretty sure that’s because I was in Westerville. And I just know that the second my dad makes any headway, our lives will suddenly be under this spotlight. This...microscope. It’s going to start again, and I’m...not doing a great job of encouraging you to embrace the gay life, am I?”
A laugh, but it was weak. “That’s your angle, huh?”
“No,” Kurt said immediately, shaking his head at himself. “No. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m trying to be better at bonding with others without having an angle. With...varied success.”
This time the laugh was real, and Kurt pulled his arm away from his face, beaming a little at the ceiling. Tentatively, Dave said, “So, we’re bonding?”
“I would say so,” Kurt said through a rather stupidly big smile. “Considering, I would say we’re definitely coming along.”
“I’d say so, too.”
Kurt’s voice dropped to almost a whisper on its own. “Thank you for texting me. I...I think I needed it more than I thought I did.”
Almost gently, Dave said, “Anytime.”
“Careful. I might take you up on that.”
“As long as we’re not singing Cher, I’m cool with it.”
“Damn. There goes my plan for our next bonding session.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“You should be. I was going to make costumes. Figured when we were done with them, I could peddle them at the next Drag Queen Night.”
Dave broke first, and the smile stayed in his voice, even as it quieted. “It was...” He cleared his throat. “It was pretty cool. Seeing you there.”
“Likewise,” Kurt said. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to sneak out there again, but if I did, it would be comforting to have someone to talk to other than my boyfriend and the guy who’s eye-sexing him.”
“Yeah. Yeah, let me know. I mean, if...yeah. My dad barely notices I’m around now that I’m not dragging him to the principal’s office to defend my character three times a month, so whenever. I can be there.”
The tug of sadness crept back into Kurt’s chest, but something in Dave’s tone told him not to go there, so he just said, “I’ll let you know. Definitely.”
“Cool.”
“Well,” Kurt said, finally sitting up and crossing his legs on the mattress, “if you ever get tired of ‘keeping your head down,’ give me a call.”
Dave snorted and said, “Uhh...” and Kurt realized how that had sounded.
Clapping a hand to his face, he groaned, “Oh, shut up! You know what I meant.” Dave just chuckled even more helplessly, and Kurt sighed loudly. “Such a boy. I think it’s someone’s bedtime.”
“It might kinda be stupid-in-the-morning,” Dave admitted, still laughing.
“Clearly. I’m going to go before any more of my well-intentioned offers are twisted into offers of self-whoring.”
“Aw, don’t be like that.”
Kurt’s face was actually starting to hurt from smiling so much. “I’ve genuinely enjoyed chatting with you, Mr. Bear Cub.”
“We should do this again, Chickadee.”
Kurt snorted--he actually snorted. “Chickadee? You are officially my grandpa.”
Dave exhaled a laugh. “Night, Kurt.”
“Good night, Dave.”
Kurt hung up the phone, looked at it a moment with a smile that hadn’t quite faded, and then flopped onto his back again, taking a deep breath in and slowly out.
Okay.
He could do this.
Companion: ‘Cause You’re Doing It Perfectly
~*~
A/N: I JUST REALLY LOVE DAVE OKAY.