Title: Textspeak
Author: Spider
Pairing, Character(s): Mercedes/Haverbrook Kid (David), Kurt
Rating: G
Warnings: Fluff?
Spoilers: Preggers and Hairography
Disclaimer: I'd say this belonged to Fox and not me, except she claims it's not hers either...
Summary: Kurt insisted Mercedes come to his game, but that doesn't mean she can't find a bit of fun herself.
Word Count: 2033
Notes: My dear, dear friend Jormy (fenrischained on livejournal) requested a Mercedes/Haverbrook kid fluffy piece, so I wrote this. It makes a nice break from my angst-overload!

This is set before Sectionals but after Hairography, and I'm messing around with timelines and stuff, but just a bit. Not enough to ruin the fic for you, I hope...

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TEXTSPEAK


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This night was bringing together two things Mercedes hated: cold and football. To make it even worse, she was throwing in 'being alone' into the mix too (though she didn't always hate being alone, but if she were supposed to be watching something she hated, in a temperature she hated, at least she could have a friend with her). Unfortunately, the friend she would have brought was already here, only he was busy on the field.

"Heeeey, boy!" Mercedes called, leaning over the railing at the foot of the bleachers. "Number three!"

The kicker turned and grinned, bounding across the grass (and jumping over the bench—damn, that boy could move!) to reach her. "Mercedes! You made it!"

"Course I did!" Mercedes laughed, crouching down so she could reach out and wiggle her fingers against Kurt's. Coach Tanaka had come back to Kurt and begged him, on his knees, in tears, to rejoin the team, just for this one game. They had lost to Haverbrook once before and been utterly humiliated, and no one on the team wanted a repeat tonight.

In the end, it hadn't been Tanaka who wooed Kurt back, but Finn and his kicked-puppy look, backed up by Puck, Mike, and Matt (though Puck had refused to beg, Kurt had told Mercedes later). Kurt felt little loyalty for Tanaka or the football team in general, but the glee jocks (the glocks, they snickered) could pull on his heartstrings and get him to do their bidding, if it wasn't too humiliating.

Of course, Mercedes knew Kurt saw the horribly mis-proportioned football uniform he was dressed in as humiliating, and he absolutely loathed the helmet which utterly destroyed his hairstyle beyond the point of repair with anything short of half a bottle of hairspray and two types of brushes, but she also knew no one had yet found the boundaries of how far Kurt would go for Finn.

"Looks like I'm the only one who made it, though..." The McKinley side of the stands were quite sparse (as opposed to the literally overflowing 'visitors' side). Apparently, nobody wanted to watch their asses get handed to them again by a bunch of deaf kids. Mr. Hummel would have come himself (he always loved it when Kurt put on the uniform), but he was out of town for some car show. That was why Kurt had begged Mercedes to attend in the first place. He wanted someone waiting for him after the game finished.

"Artie and Tina already had plans," Kurt said with a sigh. "And I wouldn't have asked Rachel. All the other guys are on the field, and the Cheerios." And Quinn would be here for Finn or Puck (or both), and not for Kurt. Mercedes couldn't see her in the stands, though.

"Well, I'll be cheering for you," Mercedes said. "Loud enough to hear over Beyonce."

Kurt grinned and squeezed her fingers before Tanaka was calling him back. He grimaced, rolling his eyes, and took a step back. "I owe you one!" he called to her before jogging back over to the rest of the team.

"Damn right," Mercedes murmured to herself, shaking her head and looking over the crowd. Now, where to sit...? Over on the far side of the bleachers, one familiar young man was sitting, hunched forward slightly, glancing around nervously. He was wearing Haverbrook colors, a lone dissenter among Titan fans. Mercedes grinned, quickly going over to his side. He was in the Haverbrook Glee Club. "May I sit here?"

He glanced up at her, then at the bench beside him, where she was gesturing, and gave a nod and a little smile, gesturing toward the seat himself. "You can!"

His voice was too loud, but his smile was kind, and Mercedes sat gratefully beside him. "I'm Mercedes," she said, pressing her hand to her chest and trying to shape the sounds of her name carefully, so he could maybe read her lips or something.

"Mer..." The Haverbrook boy frowned before digging in his pocket, pulling out his phone. "Text," he explained, gesturing to her.

"Oh!" Texting did make more sense than trying to speak, so Mercedes pulled out her phone as well. After exchanging numbers, she sent him the same sentence she had spoken.

Im Mercedes

David, he replied. You like football?

Hate it. But my bffs the kicker. No 3 "There, see?" Mercedes leaned out to point to Kurt by the bench. Hes in glee 2.

So is mine! David pointed across the field to the Haverbrook side. No 17

Mercedes giggled. Guess well be cheering at opposite times

I won't hold that against you. David grinned back at Mercedes.

So, Mercedes types, after they sat down again after the anthem, watching the boys in helmets and pads take the field and crash into each other with sickening crunches of plastic. She cringed at every play, but David couldn't hear the collisions. She envied him. Y arent u sitting w/ ur friends?

David shrugged. No one else in Glee was foolish enough to come all this way just to sit in the cold.

But everyone else at ur schools over there. Mercedes gestured to the other bleachers, and David rolled his eyes.

Yeah. EVERYONE. No more room, unless I wanted to sit with the puckheads.

Mercedes snorted a laugh into her hand, waving off David's quizzical stare and quickly texting back (and paying more attention to her spelling, since David was such an articulate texter). Hockey players? We call them puckheads too. And they hate glee here too.

Some things never change. They think we're stupid, singing when we can't hear.

I liked your song.

You joined us.

Mercedes glanced at her lap, slowly nodding. Yes. After a long pause, she added, I know it wasnt POLITE but i just... Your song was about joining together. I wanted to join.

David smiled, reaching over to pat Mercedes' hand before returning to his phone. It's okay. But next time, we'll have to sing a song about beating you at Sectionals.

Mercedes laughed again, and David grinned at her.

The rest of the game was spent texting back and forth, only glancing up when the crowd around them surged to their feet. David and Mercedes both cheered and whistled for David's friend, Michael, but Kurt stayed on the bench, legs crossed, swinging one foot idly back and forth.

The Titans sucked. Mercedes didn't even bother trying to defend her school as David commented on how Haverbrook was leading 14-0. Our kicker is better than yours! was her only protest, even though Michael had kicked two field goals to Kurt's bench-warming.

But then, in the last minutes of the game, the speakers squealed and Mercedes looked up to see the Titans in a field goal formation, Kurt off the bench and wearing his helmet. They hadn't scored a touchdown, and were, in fact, almost halfway across the field from their goal.

What are they doing? David asked, frowning out at the field. He'll never make it at that distance!

Oh yes he can! Mercedes answered. Watch this, it's gonna be AMAZING! I bet they just want to get on the board.

Beyonce's voice flooded the stadium, and the Titan supporters erupted into cheers. Mercedes laughed, springing to her feet with the rest of them as Kurt danced his way up to Finn, leg snapping around to send the ball soaring through the air. "GO KURT!" she screamed, cupping her hands around her mouth to amplify her shout.

Kurt pirouetted on the spot to avoid an oncoming Haverbrook giant, skipping a few steps to the left and yanking off his helmet when the referee's whistle blew, his arms uplifted to signal that the kick was good. David laughed and waved his hands alongside Mercedes, whistling at his success just like Mercedes had cheered for Michael. Kurt high-fived Finn, blew a kiss toward where Mercedes was sitting, and skipped (actually skipped) back to the bench.

David was laughing as he took his seat again, fingers returning to his phone. I've never seen anyone kick like that.

He insists its the only way he CAN kick. Mercedes grinned, looking over at David. Told you our kicker was better than yours.

He has more flair. David stuck out his tongue at Mercedes, and she replied in kind. I'll have to tell Michael to try that. But we're still going to win... And win Haverbrook did, 21-3. Mercedes booed as David cheered, both of them laughing as they linked arms and joined the crowd to leave the bleachers. Easier to exit on this side, David commented. Mercedes just grinned.

Most of the town knew you guys were going to win, so they didn't bother coming out.

What are you going to do now? David asked. Go home?

Wait for Kurt, Mercedes answered. Maybe treat him to ice cream for scoring.

David's smile was shy as he dipped his head, concentrating on his next text. I'd like to treat you to ice cream sometime...?

Mercedes' face broke into a broad grin, and she nodded to David before replying in text. I'd like that too! Are you doing anything tomorrow?

I'm free all day.

Me too. Maybe... 2ish?

How about bowling first, and then ice cream?

Mercedes couldn't stop grinning and nodding. Sounds like a date!

David grinned back, squeezing Mercedes' hand. See you tomorrow, then! I should go find Michael...

Bye! Mercedes waved as David slowly pulled away from her to head to the locker rooms the Haverbrook kids would be using. She headed over to the McKinley locker rooms and waited outside the door. Kurt would be the first out. He always was, after a football game. Especially games they lost.

Sure enough, ten minutes after the team had gone in, Kurt burst out, his face flushed and wet hair tousled. Before a game, no one harassed him because they might need him intact for a kick or two, but after a game, all bets were off. It was the one time Kurt could be counted on to race through his shower and get dressed as quickly as possible, not even stopping to run a brush through his hair. The less time he spent with the jocks, the better.

"Congratulations on that kick, Kurt!"

Kurt's nervous look broke into a smile as he beelined for Mercedes, looping his arm through hers just as David had done. "Thanks! Forty-three yards, a new personal best!"

"I cheered!"

"I heard!" He elbowed her in the side as they headed out, looking knowingly at her. "So... spill, girl! Who was that cutie you were distracted by all game?"

"You noticed?"

Kurt laughed. "Babe, I was making faces at you all through the third quarter. You didn't look up once!"

Mercedes shook her head, flustered a little, and tugged his arm to make him sway as he walked. "His name's David. He was the lead singer from Haverbrook when they came here, remember?"

"Ooooh!" Kurt's eyes were sparkling in the yellow glow of the parking lot lights as they headed out to his dad's truck (left behind when his dad flew out, so he could use it). "The one you daydreamed about the whole next week?"

"Oh, shut up!" Mercedes laughed, elbowing Kurt again. "Yes, that one. And he asked me out!"

"What?" Kurt squealed, clapping his hands together. "Spill! Everything! Every dirty detail! Were you texting each other? Let me read!"

"First," Mercedes said, grinning at Kurt, "we're going out for ice cream. And then I'll tell you every detail."

"And then can I read your conversation?"

"And then maybe you can read it, after I make sure there's nothing embarrassing!"

Kurt laughed again, releasing Mercedes' arm so they could climb into the truck. "You drive a hard bargain, woman..."

"I'd do anything for ice cream." Mercedes settled back in her seat, angling the vents toward her as Kurt got the heat started. "Including date a cute boy..."