19: [Action] American Pie

[dashboardlite]

[ooc; Just for Dean and Dickface Karofsky, guys. c: ]

"A long, long time ago...'nd I can still remember, when that music used to make me smile..."

Dean is usually singing, or humming, something from his "headbanger repertoire", as Sam so aptly tends to put it.  Metallica isn't on his mind today, though - most of the mullet-rock isn't, as a matter of

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[pieceofthefury]

As a rule, Dave avoids leaving his room. He has no desire to interact with any of the numerous assholes populating this freakshow of a mansion. All he wants to do is go home, which is pretty freaking weird considering how much he hated the place while he was there. But at least it was familiar. At least he knew who he was supposed to be and what he was supposed to be doing. This place? The few people he knows are his worst enemies, and there are more of them every week. And Hummel--

Hummel--

Fuck Hummel. Whatever. Dave's going to get a goddamn cheeseburger.

Except Dean Winchester is in the kitchen.

Maybe Dave can escape before he notices him.

[dashboardlite]

He's halfway through his pie when a familiar, lumbering figure manages to make its way into the kitchen. Dean stops eating abruptly, brow furrowing. Karofsky looks shifty. Nervous. What, is he afraid? Karma's a bitch; it's time to grow the Hell up. Perhaps it's mostly hilarious how the kid thinks he's being inconspicuous.

While Dean would like to give him props on his culinary selection, he can still remember the bitter, hateful sonuvabitch who was railing on Kurt in his first transmission. Even with the falling-out that (Dean thinks) has been forgiven by now, he still feels a twinge of brotherly instinct.

"'Sup, Dorothy."

He sets the plate and fork on the counter, folding his arms across his chest and looking very, very amused.

"Lose the Yellow-Brick Road, didja?"

[pieceofthefury]

What Dave intends to do is raise his hands, mumble I don't have a problem with you, man and back the hell out of the room before the guy goes crazy on him.

What he actually does is narrow his eyes, clench his fist, and say, "Excuse me?"

He might have a problem with his brain not working fast enough. But Dave's also pretty sure that Dean is making fucking fag jokes, and that shit just can't stand.

[dashboardlite]

Oh, you've got to be kidding. The poster-boy for eating your Wheaties is really going to push his luck today.

"Did I friggin' stutter?"

Dean raises an eyebrow. Normally it's beneath him to pick fights with teenagers...though picking fights at all should be off his To-Do List. Dean's willing to make an exception this once. He's been chased by fucking Hellhounds, turned into a Christmas-drunk groper, and had the flesh flayed from his bones by the goddamn Operator. So maybe it's about time he let off a little steam.

"Don't think too hard, champ - You might strain a muscle."