Pairing(s): one-sided Kurtofsky, as much as it kills me to say it.
Rating: PG-13 for language
Word Count: (this chapter) 2,921
Warnings: Coarse language, Cousin Olive, Dave's arms, loopy!Blaine and a eyes meeting across a crowded open air theatre. Also, I'm aware Six Flags doesn't allow dogs…but is this the face of girl who cares? No, it is not.
Spoilers: Everythin'. This is a continuation of the Cousin Olive ficlets, Duke-Stud? Really? and Gumtree.
Summary:
And by the time he stopped being a grade-A douchebag and actually gotten to know Kurt as a person, said person had a boyfriend.
One with an apparent fondness for tights.
"Okay, really now," Ollie says, effectively drawing him out of his funk. "This is just getting alarming."
Stage Dive
"I can't move," Ollie groans, using Dave as a leaning post. "I'm too full of candy."
"I warned you," Dave says lightly, completely unmoved.
"Shuddup," Ollie mutters back, voice muffled by his shoulder. "God, why do I do this to myself?"
"Hell if I know," Dave says, grinning because she does this every year, and it's always hilarious. "You think you'd know better by now."
She raises her head and gazes at him pathetically. "But…but it always smells so good…"
"Yeah, didn't smell so great when you yacked it up across the back seat of my dad's car, though, did it?"
"It was one time! I was twelve!"
Dave just snickers and rubs Gumtree's ears. The spaniel groans appreciatively and drools on the knee of Dave's cargo shorts. Around them, the stands of the Southwest Territory Amphitheatre are packed out with families – bedraggled adults and kids under eleven hopped up on the same candy that's given Ollie her bellyache – although there's a thick cluster of giggly tweenies down the front, near the stage. There are even a few high school freshmen, trying to look sophisticated in Taylor Swift blouses and over-sized sunglasses. Dave frowns at them.
"What's that all about?" Dave wonders, tilting his head towards the fluff catchment.
Ollie mirrors his frown. "Aren't they kinda old to be here?"
Dave snorts. "Aren't we a little old to be in here?"
"I'm recovering," Ollie growls, and Dave snickers at her again.
Overhead, the speakers come to life:
"Ladies and gentlemen," comes the jovial announcement, "boys and girls! Welcome to Six Flags Great America's Southwest Amphitheatre! We have a great show for you today –!"
Which is about when Dave tunes out, because a little further back from the nest of trilling, Bieber-phile females is a familiar figure in a light-weight powder blue shirt and black wayfarers. Dave feels something in his chest twist; he'd know that elegantly coifed hair anywhere, even if it is a little sandier than he's used to. More time in the sun, he thinks inanely, and then wonders if he has to wear more sunscreen to keep that smooth, pale skin from burning luminous pink…
"Who the hell is Blaine Anderson?" Ollie says.
Dave starts. "What?"
"Blaine Anderson," Ollie repeats, "he's the lead in this thing."
The only Blaine Dave knows is a gel-capped hobbit that sings for Gay Hogwarts and is… who is dating…
Goddamn.
Just because the universe seems determined to screw with him today (of all days), Ollie is now following his gaze, which of course has inevitably led back down to the figure in powder blue…who is gazing steadily at the stage.
Dave wants to break something.
"Who's that?" asks Ollie.
Dave wants to break several somethings.
"Blaine Anderson is Kurt Hummel's boyfriend," Dave says, fighting to keep his voice level and not grind every word out through his back teeth. "And that… that's Kurt Hummel."
"Well, shit," says Ollie.
Fifteen minutes later Ollie's saying, "Is this kid for real?"
Dave can only shake his head. He's blocked out most of the performance in favor of watching Kurt's distant figure – like a total creeper, God, Dave, time for something new, maybe? – so it's another ten minutes before he realizes that Highbrows and his costumed cohorts are frolicking their way through a musical production of Jim Henson's The Dark Crystal. Which sucks beyond all reasoning because Dave actually liked that movie before this, and now all he's going to be able to think of when he watches it is Blaine Goddamn Anderson in a set of tights singing about special destinies and the weight of the world on his tiny fairy shoulders, and could the whole situation be more ironic, really?
"No, actually, is he for real?" Ollie says, eyebrows raised over the teashades, "I mean he's cute, but he's also singing at a Six Flags. In tights. This is attractive?"
"Apparently," Dave says. He nods down at the gushing tweens/we're-actually-too-cool freshmen contingent. "They seem to think so." There's certainly a lot of squealing going on.
"Hah," Ollie says, a little vindictively, "too bad they're not his type." Of course not; if they were, Dave's life might be a little easier. "Think I know who might be though…"
And yeah, Dave can see that; Blaine, still mid-ballad, is gazing at that one powder-blue figure in the crowd, and unless Dave was very much mistaken, Kurt was gazing back. Their eyes are actually meeting across a crowded room. Amphitheatre. Whatever, the whole situation was going to outdo the various candy stalls and rot the teeth of every innocent child here. It shouldn't be allowed.
And yes, Dave realizes he has a problem.
The deeply sad thing is that Dave knows he never had a chance with Kurt. First he was an asshole, then he was an even bigger asshole, then he was a creeper of John Hinckley proportions and after that he was kind of a wreck.
And by the time he stopped being a grade-A douchebag and actually gotten to know Kurt as a person, said person had a boyfriend.
One with an apparent fondness for tights.
"Okay, really now," Ollie says, effectively drawing him out of his funk. "This is just getting alarming."
The dancing has started up again – Kurt's clapping along with the fangirls – and Ollie does actually look a little alarmed.
"I'm having Labyrinth-Bowie flashbacks, dude," she mutters. "I mean all this leaping around can't be good for – OH MY GOD."
Blaine Anderson has just taken a header off the stage.
Dave hears Kurt's cry of alarm and is on his feet before his brain even gives him a courtesy warning of 'about to engage legs'.
There's a lot of a different kind of squealing coming from the Tweenies & Co. now, and Dave can see Kurt taking the steps two at a time to get down to the stage, in front of which a small crowd of rubber-neckers and staff have gathered.
"We should go help," Dave says, eyes still on Kurt as he makes his way to the steps. Gumtree follows him amicably but Ollie just stares at him for a moment.
"Wait, don't you kind of…hate the guy?"
Dave glowers at her. "What? No."
Envy's not a component of hate, right?
Maybe just strong dislike.
"C'mon," Dave says, and charges down the steps with Gumtree. He can hear Ollie behind him and feel her laser eyes on his back, which he determinedly ignores.
They get to the stage and its goddamn chaos. The Tweenies are gushing and gurgling away in distress, parents are trying to keep their kids from underfoot and everyone's freaking out because Highbrows is apparently delirious or something. Dave can see him looking woozily around him while Kurt tries to talk to him and hear him babbling back like he's snorted a couple thousand tons of Fruit Loops.
If this were happening to anyone else it would be hysterical. But it's not, and therefore Dave cares, because apparently Kurt now has some kind of line directly to the nicer parts of his personality.
It's such a freaking disaster.
For a moment, Dave freezes up, not really knowing how to proceed. His brain really got as far as the 'get to Kurt' part of the plan…then the Boyfriend swings around, fixes his eyes on Dave and says, loudly, "Kurt! Kurt, look, its David Boreanaz!"
Kurt's gaze swings up from his completely out-of-his-tree significant other and fixes on Dave, the very definition of shock written on his face and probably visible from orbit. None of this is helped by Ollie snorting with laughter behind him and saying something like, "well, he got the first bit right."
Dave clears his throat and takes a step forward, trying to ignore how very blue Kurt's wide eyes are. "Thought we should come and help," he mutters. "Should probably get him to the first aid office and he doesn't look like he can walk –" Blaine grins vacantly up at him and Dave frowns – "or correctly process visual information."
Kurt blinks at him opens his mouth and says, "Yeah, I think he hit his head."
"Kurt," Blaine stage whispers, "Kurt, look at his arms!"
Dave has never regretted a good deed more in his life.
Mind you, in no way could he have anticipated that volunteering himself to a stricken Kurt & Boyfriend would end with him carrying said boyfriend princess-style across the fricking park to Hometown Square while the little twerp – still loopy as a noose – tries to covertly-but-not-really feel up Dave's biceps.
Apart from the obvious it's got Dave kind of worried actually; every time Blaine gazes as him and garbles out "it's such an honor to meet you Mr. Boreanaz!" Dave can see that his pupils are blown wide and glassy, although at least they're even. Dave remembers being concussed and concussing other people and he's never reacted or seen anyone react like this before. Concussion doesn't cause some kind of weird waking dream and sinkhole eyes. It's familiar though…
Blaine goes in for another arm-grope (seriously, what the hell?) and Kurt casts him another outraged glare. Dave thinks he must really look as uncomfortable as he feels because while Blaine's getting the stink-eye, Kurt keeps giving Dave apologetic looks. He and Ollie are playing the whole get-to-know-you game and comparing Dave-notes, which would be mortifying enough, but Kurt keeps trying to hide the fact that Dave's gay and he knows it, while Ollie keeps teasingly trying to get him to slip up and say something. It's a little mean of her, but at this point Dave's a little too distracted to call her on it.
And then it happens:
"So, you wore a kilt to your prom this year, right?"
…Dave's murdering her when they get home.
Kurt gives Dave a sidelong look and quickly turns back to Ollie. "Yeah, in honor of the royal wedding."
"Mmm," Ollie hums appreciatively. "Will or Harry?"
Kurt's eyes light up. "Oh, Will for sure."
"Really?" Ollie's doing that peer over the teashades thing. "But he's going bald. There might not be much left by the time he's thirty."
"I don't dig on chubby boys who sweat too much and are going to be bald by the time they're thirty!"
Oh, this is awkward…
Dave doesn't miss the lightning quick flicker of Kurt's eyes in his general direction, but pretends he does.
"They have pills for that now," Kurt says breezily, although its sounds a little strained to Dave. Another quick flash of blue eyes. "Plus, he's going to be king someday."
"True fact," Ollie concedes, also flicking Dave a look.
Dave wants for all the world not to be blushing.
Of course, he also wants Blaine Delirious Anderson to keep his hands to himself, and look how well that's turning out.
"So, Dave's really your cousin?"
"Really really," Ollie says, then shrugs, smiling. "Well…kind of."
At Kurt's questioning look Dave adds, "We're cousins-once-removed."
"Yeah, his dick aunt married my dick uncle and had the bag of dicks we both call cousins."
Kurt laughs. "At least you got Dave out of though, right?" He actually smiles at Dave even though he's talking to Ollie.
Ollie give's Dave a fond look and he forgives her a little for bringing up Prom. "Well, yeah."
Kurt is looking between them with a lingering smile on his face. "So…what're you guys doing at Six Flags today? I mean it's a five hour drive…"
Blaine chooses this moment to trill out a laugh and mutter something about green arms and 'marry me, Fiona!'
Kurt shakes his head, bewildered and Dave has to glower at Ollie when she cackles.
"What?" she asks, "I mean at least he didn't say 'marry me, Donkey' right?"
"There's that," Kurt says, shaking his head. He looks fretful. "I just don't get why he's so out of it… Finn wasn't like this when he came home concussed from a game…"
Dave is saved from having to explain by their arrival at the first aid office. Sylvia is there to meet them. She's been the nurse here for years – since the year Dave and Ollie turned ten actually – and even though she only sees them annually, apparently the pair of them are memorable enough that she knows them by name, and her greeting is always the same:
"Not your two again."
"Hi, Sylvie!" Ollie chirps, relentlessly cheerful in the face of Sylvia's pre-emptive irritation. "We brought you a present!"
"I can see that. Hello, Blaine."
Blaine swings his head round to look at her and pops out with, "Grandma, what big noses you have!" before frowning, very nearly going cross-eyed trying to see the tip of his own nose. "Wherezit gone?" he asks Kurt. "Can I borrow yours?"
Kurt can only shake his head, bewildered.
Sylvia frowns, cutting a quick, interrogative look at Dave, who gives her an imperceptible nod and then herds all of them into her office, except Gumtree, who Ollie ties up outside. The spaniel watches them with woe-be-gone eyes as they walk inside.
Dave puts Blaine on the exam table and backs up as quickly as he can before Grabby-Hands goes in for a last minute arm-grope. Kurt watches Blaine and frets and wrings his hands, and Dave watches Kurt, and in all likelihood, Ollie is watching Dave and putting a few pieces together. Blaine watches things that the rest of them apparently can't see, and is dazed and deeply confused. He blinks in bright light, and seems to have difficulty keeping his balance, limbs moving sluggishly to support himself on the exam table.
Dave has a bad feeling about this.
When Sylvia casually suggests Kurt go call Blaine's mom, Ollie goes with him and Dave and Sylvia ease Blaine down onto one of the cots in the sick bay. After a quick confab, Sylvia kicks him out too with, "C'mon, beat it; I've got calls to make and bloods to take. Go look after your friend."
Dave lets himself be shooed, and finds Ollie sitting with Kurt and Gummy on the steps outside the office.
Kurt's on his feet the minute he sees Dave. "What did she say?" he asks anxiously. "Will he be alright…?"
Dave hesitates for a second, then nods. "He'll be fine, but she's going to call his folks back and get them to take him…home. He's resting. Sylvie said we should get lost, so…"
Kurt nods, looking at his feet. "I should probably get home. It's getting kind of late and the drive home is so long…"
Dave exchanges a look with Ollie. "We should get going too," she says, "Gummy's getting to the end of her rope, and Uncle Paul said we should be back by eight. Family dinner thing," she adds to Kurt. "We do it every year around this time."
Kurt smiles, and doesn't object when they start walking with him to the parking lot. He doesn't flinch while he walks next to Dave, and he looks Dave in the eye when they talk. It's nice.
It's not so nice when they get to the parking lot, to Kurt's car, which is closer than Ollie's Chrysler, and Kurt's face starts to get paler and more drawn the longer he digs around in his bag for his keys.
"No," Dave hears him breathe, "oh no, no, no! I had them right here, I –"
"Kurt?" he asks tentatively.
The smaller boy shakes his head. "I can't have dropped them; they were in one of the interior pockets…"
"We'll go back and look," Dave says firmly, and so back they go, scouring the whole of Southwest Territory before finally admitting defeat.
Kurt looks like he might cry. Dave wants to hit something again for no particular reason. Ollie sensibly points out they should got to Lost and Found. This is a good idea, right up until the girl in the Hometown Square office where the Lost and Found boxes are says that no, no keys turned in today, just a pair of toddlers sandals and a few hats. Kurt miserably leaves a written description of his keys with is details and then adds one for his Escalade as, well, getting the lost and found girl to promise to pass it on to the parking staff so he won't get towed.
"I'll be back tomorrow," he says. "My brother can drive me up with the spare keys."
The girl – her name tag says, 'Eve' – gives him a sympathetic look. "Do you have a way to get home?"
"Yeah," Dave says, and stops short of trying to look at his own mouth in surprise, especially when it keeps going: "we've got room in our car."
Ollie nods in agreement, but Kurt is looking at Dave like he's never seen him before. Dave hope's to God, again, that he's not blushing.
"You – you don't have to," Kurt's stammering, and Dave has an awful flash of insight that Kurt probably doesn't want to spend the next four and a half hours trapped in a car with his former bully, a girl he's only just met and an elderly (and let's face it, gassy) spaniel. "I could get a ride with Blaine's parents when they get here –"
Ollie snorts inelegantly. "And lurk about here by yourself for how long? Kurt, no way. Dave's right, we've got room in my car and we can get you home before eight if we leave now." She puts her teashades back on and assumes the serious-business face.
"Let's roll."
