A/N: I'm not entirely sure if I should be posting this. There are a few really phenomenal Kavid fics already out there, and I'm not sure this should be anywhere near their awesomeness. Seriously. Operation Klaine: Alternate One is amazing. It is seriously happy-inducing. But my muse is dragging my forcibly to write something, and right now I REALLY enjoy David and Kurt. Probably because David is suddenly becoming my favorite character. Hopefully I will eventually do him justice. At any rate, happy reading! Please feel free to comment/suggest/demand/nag me with thoughts/ideas/demands/corrections. :D Much love!

P.S. Do not own Glee or any of it's characters. I am just the happy molester of the repeat button for Bills, Bills, Bills. ;)


February was definitely not in his list of 'These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things.'

Neither was Ohio.

Because if you put those two together, you get a freak snow storm that will last until the end of never, therefore landing him snowed in and stuck at Dalton over the weekend, when what he really, really, really needed was girl time.

But no. Instead, the Fates seemed to have synced their cycles so that all three of them were PMSing while checking in on him. So now, instead of doing makeovers and chatting like old biddies with his girls, he was still in his dorm, with the basics of his wardrobe donning his fashionable person, listening to:

1)Teenage Dream

2)Hey, Soul Sister

3)Bills, Bills, Bills

4)Just the Way You Are

5)Alejandro

On repeat. For the past three hours.

Why? you may ask.

Because the dapper boy he was head over heels for had asked him for his help to serenade another man. And even if that had turned out horribly for Blaine, and the pair of them had gotten coffee and Kurt had shoved his own hurt feelings aside to put Blaine's to rest and they had gone on like everything was okie-dandy and they were just regular friend again, it didn't make it any easier for Kurt. Cause being in the early stages of post-dejected-infatuation sucks.

A knock on the door lifted his head from where it had fallen beside the forgotten Vogue's glossy pages. "You know you don't have to knock," he said, figuring it was Blaine – not many others ventured into his room yet, being the strange, poor new kid that nobody really knew anything about.

"I guess I didn't get the memo where it stated that I needed to be psychic."

Kurt pulled the classy blue headphones out of his ears and grinned at the tall boy who walked in, gate loose and even. "David! What brings you to my neck of the... well... Dalton?"

David's smile lost it's brilliance, and he sat next to Kurt with the careful grace he always had.

"Apparently it's not to tell me how brilliant I am for convincing the Warblers to perform publicly." Kurt looked at each of David's features intently, searching for the cause of the problem. David was good at a poker face – perhaps not as successive as Wes, with his terminally aloof demeanor – but still good at keeping a neutral balance, overall. So it took a minute for Kurt to find what he was looking for.

A face that was so slightly tinted with sadness; you can always tell by the way the outer edges depress downward, the pair move closer together and curve almost upward towards the center. Combined with that, his (very attractive) mouth was tugging down against his will to keep it straight.

From there, Kurt's instincts led him in his mental search-and-discard of creating plausible reasons for this sadness, then discarding what didn't fit. All in all, it took him just over two minutes for the metaphorical lightbulb to brighten above his head.

"Let me go out on a limb."

"You usually do."

"Only to your rigidly starched student body of wealthy snobs." Kurt held up his hand to stay David's denial. "Not all of you, but it's the truth for nearly all of them, and you know it. Now, back to the subject on hand. You had something grand planned out for Valentine's Day, something that involved insane amounts of money, thought, and heart on your part. The Dapper Dumbass decides he wants to profess his love to some blond floozy he's overcome with desire for, and I, fool of the century, endorse him and use my regrettable intellect to convince the entire Warbler ensemble to serenade his new-found love on the most special day of the year." Kurt kept his head forward, but glanced sideways at David. "How am I doing so far?"

Silence for a long moment. "Not too far off the mark."

"You just disagree on the Dapper Dumbass, and only because you're one of his besties, but that's alright. Moving on! From our massive hit with flash mobbing a GAP—a horrible idea, by the way—we come to where we are now. The Dapper Dumbass is left feeling humiliated and rejected, I am left feeling humiliated and dejected, and you are left with a screaming tirade from that toneless banshee you called a human female, because it's not enough to have the highest GPA in a ridiculously competitive school, to be on two different sports teams, have three intellectual extracurricular activities, and be a council member on the Warblers. No. You have to evolve, develop the ability to read her mind from across the fucking state, know exactly what she wants—when she wants it—and also clone yourself so you could be in two places at once, because the world would just. stop. if you actually chose to—dare I say it?—put something above her. That about right?"

"..."

"It's okay to feel intimidated. I won't judge you as a lesser human being because of it."

"You're eerily brilliant sometimes. You know that, right? Brilliant, but eerie."

"Yes, well, brilliance does come with a price. Enough about me, though. You shouldn't let this tone-deaf, fashionably tasteless diva get you down like this! I mean, come on, David. You can do so much better than her! Or than any of those spoiled bitches, honestly."

"Hey. Wes' girlfriend goes to her school as well."

Kurt looked at him pointedly, eyebrow raised and his, bitch, please face ready to jump out in 3-D if it became any more animated. "Really? Do I even need to say anything to that?"

"What do you mean?"

"If Wes had any more money, his skin would be saturated green."

David looked down at the floor, obviously fighting a smile. "I can't exactly argue with that."

"No, you can't. So you should just stop arguing with me altogether. Because—and I promise, I won't let this go to my head—we both know that I'm right. About everything I've just said. You cannot let this get you down. She's so not worth it."

"I just... I put so much into this, Kurt. I had the dinner reservation, a garden I had designed so that each of the hanging lights would be perfect, the hotel room-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Okay. I get it. You're perfect and romantic. And making it hard to decide whether to swoon with that, or vomit at the sweetness. Which, by the way, was wasted on a total. bitch. Just saying."

David didn't laugh. He just stared at his hands, clasped in his lap tightly. "She said if I was any real sort of man, I would have -"

"Yeah, don't even finish that. What a crock of shit, coming out of the mouth of a piece of shit. It's like two generations of shit combined into one."

Dark brown eyes flew up to glasz, wide with shock. Kurt Hummel was actually saying something like that? What had happened to the classy diva?

"Don't look at me like that. It's the truth. She's a bitch that's probably bitching to her little money-grabbing... other-bitches," Kurt said when he apparently couldn't find the right words, "about how horrible you are, and how she always had to call you, and how you never thought about what she thought or wanted-"

"Gee, thanks, Kurt. I feel loads better."

"Hush. You know why she's saying all of that right now?"

"You just told me to hush. Now you want an answer?"

"It was rhetorical. Keep up here, David."

David's jaw slacked as he stared, aghast. Someone had actually insinuated that he wasn't keeping up with them. That he wasn't always the brightest star in the sky. (Crayons are much too far beneath him.) This was... awesome. Horrifying, but after the shock wore off, he laughed harder than he had in... longer than he could remember.

"That's more like it."

He turned to see Kurt smiling at him, nodding in approval before continuing with that strange logic that somehow solved all problems. "Now, the real reason she's spreading all of those nasty things is because she's a spoiled brat that didn't get her way. You didn't put her above everything else, and it won't matter now if you do everything short of buying her a country in her name to try and make it better."

"Because she's a spoiled brat?" David grinned at the boy next to him.

"Exactly. Because she's a spoiled brat who didn't get her way, so now she's going to save face and try to look like she's the heroin instead the harbinger of the death of your phenomenal tone-precision, all by never speaking to you civilly again."

"So what exactly do you propose I do?"

Kurt grinned evilly. "Don't call. Don't text. Don't contact her in any way, shape, or form."

David was horrified. To do anything other than those things would be... wrong. It wouldn't be the thing a gentleman would do. David repeated that last thought out loud.

"No. It's the smart thing to do. If you have to be a gentleman, text her once. Say you're sorry things didn't work out, but it's clear that neither of you possess the traits the other is looking for, for a relationship to work. You obviously have more balls than she wants in a man, and she has a black hole—actually, it's more like a green hole, since all she really wants is the green stuff, anyway—where her heart is supposed to be. But, after you text her that, no more texts, no more messages, no nothing."

David looked at Kurt, who was completely serious. After a long moment, the taller Warbler looked down at his hands. "I'm not saying the last part," he muttered.

Kurt gave a small laugh. "That's because you are a good man, David."

"Yeah, well..." he grinned and shrugged. "What else can you do?"

"Send her to a crack house."

"What?"

"...Nothing."

David's direct stare burned into Kurt's now like a mechanical dog lazer-pinpoint-targeting a mechanical bone. "No, no, I hear a story in this. Spill, Hummel."

Kurt assumed the bitch, please face once more. "And what are you going to do, Johnson? Serenade me with When I Get You Alone? That should do the trick."

David hid a chuckle behind his hand. "That was bad."

"It was horrible! The guy looked angry half the time, horrified the other. With awe sprinkled in both because he was being pursued by the impregnating voice of one Blaine Anderson, so what else could be expected?" Kurt broke off and sighed harshly, letting his head fall so that his jaw was cupped by his hand.

"Ah. Wes and I had thought this might happen."

Kurt rolled his head so that he could see the other man. "What? Fall head over heels because we sang one flirty duet together about drinks with roofies in them and know each others coffee orders?"

"That too, but mostly because of the fact that the Dapper Dumbass is careless."

The countertenor blew out a heavy breath. "Not going to hear any arguments from me."

It was David's turn to sigh as he leaned his shoulder into Kurt's, knocking the arm out from beneath his head. The darker boy smiled. "You can't let him get you down, Kurt," he said, echoing Kurt's earlier sentiments. "He is so not worth it."

Pale lids closed over brilliant eyes, but not before David saw the sheen of tears coming quickly to the surface. "But that's the thing. He was. He was so... dashing, and charming, and smart and funny and-"

"Completely self-absorbed, and trampled all over your feelings because it felt good for him to feel wanted and in the role of being a mentor and crush-ee. He's not perfect, Kurt. Not by any standpoint. He's not a bad guy at all, don't get me wrong. He's just not exactly the white knight. More like the lord of the manor that occasionally steps on the guests' feet while chasing after the scullery maid."

This brought a laugh from Kurt, making David's smile widen. "Really, David? Really?"

"I like history. Sue me."

Kurt mulled this over for a moment, sucking in his lower lip as he did so. David's eyes quickly raised and he dismissed his brief view as an errant twitch without any real thought at all. "I don't think so. You would probably win, given the money behind your parents."

David shrugged nonchalantly. "This is probably true." He sighed, realizing this most likely brought the conversation to a wrap. However, he was reluctant to get up and go. He enjoyed being able to talk this freely, without having to always sound intelligent. He could joke, and Kurt would laugh. He could say something completely inappropriate and random, and Kurt would probably just take it as off-beat humor. Most of all, he could talk about something that was bothering him, and Kurt would sort it out in that way he had of diving straight into the heart of things and divining the problem, cause and solution.

"You know, you don't have to get up and rush out the door. I have movies outside of musicals and classics. You look like a Transformers sort of person. Or maybe Avatar."

David stared. "You have... action movies?"

"I'm gay, David. Not blind or dead."

"But... it doesn't fit with the..."

"I was on the football team as kicker. I won them the only game that year. I am still very much a guy. I just happen to have exceptional taste."

David looked around, a little lost. Every time he thought he had figured this kid out, he turned a corner and WHACHAAA! There was another facet. Not that he was comparing Kurt to a diamond. That would be like comparing a lion to a tiger. Wait. Weren't there those things called ligers? Bad comparison. It meant nothing. Never mind.