Prompt by lost-energy on Tumblr: "Kurt and Dave find out they're working on the same place for the summer."

Title: Whistle While We Work

Rating: T (for cursing)

Genre: Humor, Friendship

Summary: When Kurt applied to the only remaining hiring store in Lima – Office Max, of all places – he hadn't expected to be working alongside a schoolmate, and Karofsky, no less.

Timeline: Summer between junior and senior years, AU after Prom Queen.

After Prom, I didn't see much of Dave Karofsky. I wondered why, because before, he was escorting me to my classes as part of the Bully Whips, and I was growing used to having him walk alongside me each passing period. And while he continued the Bully Whips even after Santana didn't need the votes or publicitty anymore, I still didn't see him much. Only now and then, and he never said a word to me.

I don't like being ignored or avoided, even if it's by my former bully. Because since he is a former, that means he isn't on bad terms with me anymore, and, I don't know, I thought he and I could at least become casual school-friends? He needs somebody who knows the truth and can help him… and I want to be that person for him. Gaga knows no one else would ever be there for the poor guy, Santana not included, since I know she's just using him.

Sighing, I will my thoughts away. Today is the first day of my first real job besides helping out my dad in his autoshop, so I need to focus on driving and clearing my mind. I need to be in perfectly functioning, working condition by the time I get there, distracting thoughts like that of my strange acquaintance and my boyfriend (because he's always on my mind) completely shoved to the background.

When I pull up to Office Max – a lame office supply store, I'm well aware, but it was the only place hiring; I wanted Old Navy or JC Penny or any other clothing store nearby, but of course I was stuck with this place because everywhere else was full – and park my car in one of the employee slots. I slip on my hideous vest complete with a nametag, and I place my ID card lanyard around my neck, and then I'm ready to go.

Walking into the store, I check in for my shift with my boss, and he instructs me on what to do (I already had a new employee orientation, but he seems to like to remind). I shrug, take the the tasks as intructed, and go off to do my business.

But when I go into the supply room in back, I gather up too many boxes of sticky tack and thumb tacks and can't see as well. And what happens? Naturally, I bump into someone on my way out. The boxes crash to the cement flooring, and one or two packages fall out.

"Shit!" the person exclaims in a familiar voice. "Sorry, I didn't mean to– Kurt?"

Holding my head (I hit it on one of the boxes when it fell), I peer up to find Dave Karofsky – oh wow, the situational and/or universal irony of the person of my earlier thoughts to appear right here and now at my new workplace – bending over me. He offers a hand, and I take it. Once I'm on my feet again (with a sore head), I start picking up the scattered items, and Dave helps me.

"What are you doing here?" I frown, but I feel foolish as soon as I say it.

"I work here, of course," Dave mumbles with a grunt as he lifts one of the boxes. It's so obvious; he's wearing one of the damn vests. I should've known. He continues, "Man, how did you have so many of these in your arms, dude? I'm carrying three of your, like, seven and it's heavy even for me!"

"I'm strong despite my size," I mutter off-handedly, like it's nothing. They really were heavy, though. I was pushing it with carrying so many, and that's probably why I couldn't see and wound up dropping them and falling over when I barely bumped into someone.

"Heh, I believe that." Dave grins. His face falls, though, as he helps me carry the supplies out to the shelves in the store to restock them. "So, um… you work here, too, huh? How come I've never seen you in here before? Aside from the fact that, well, you don't look like the office supply shopper type."

"This is my first day. And this is the only place that was taking applications, so I took it. Beggars can't be choosers when it comes to earning money for college," I answer simply.

"Oh. Yeah, I know how that is; that's the only reason why I'm working here. I'd rather be at Home Depot or something, though. They have awesome hot dogs. And, well. I kinda like house paint. Don't ask me why."

"You're oddly talkative," I remark as we set down the boxes and start unpacking them to fill the empty shelves (there had been a sale or something on tacks of all sorts, hence why they're all gone). "Espeically after a few weeks of not talking to me at all." And I sound a little bitter and cold, but I can't help it; I was a little offended and hurt, all right?

Dave's head immediately droops and he looks away. I hadn't been looking at him anyway, though. He sighs. "I know, I know…" and oddly enough, that was one of the things I said to him. He goes on, "I just… I didn't want to face you, ya know? I know I let you down at Prom. Sorry about that, man."

I sigh, my icy heart warming. I offer a small smile as I glance over at him. "No, it's okay. I get it. I shouldn't have pushed you like that. I just… didn't want to be alone out there. And after what just happened to me, I wanted more support, and I thought you could give it to me by coming out, but that was selfish."

"…Oh," he murmurs, and I don't understand why he suddenly can't look at me again. He does that a lot, lately: drops my gaze. And I can't tell if it's from shame or something else. "Well, uh, if it makes you feel any better, I felt really bad about leaving you out there like that after what happened to you with the votes and stuff. But I couldn't ruin everything else, and I was scared shitless because of what happened to you, and… Uh. Well. I just… I did want to dance with you, Kurt. I did. But your boyfriend was right behind me, and people were staring –"

His voice is hushed enough as it is, but it cuts off completely when a customer shops on the other side of the shelves in the next aisle, but close enough to be within earshot. So I cut Dave some slack and assure him as I finish stacking the shelf in front of me, "I know, David. I told you that I get it. But… thank you. I was doubting a few things, but you cleared them up for me." And I can't help the slightly devious, slightly knowing smile that reaches my lips.

He frowns at me. "And just what is that supposed to mean?" he grumbles, but not fiercely; it's more like a pout.

"Nothing," I say. But really, ever since that kissing incident, I've wondered for all these months whether or not he's had a crush on me or if it's been something else. And the fact that he wanted to dance with me pretty much confirms my suspicions. And it's a little flattering, and might even be welcomed, if I didn't already have a boyfriend.

We move on to our next tasks – separate ones – and I discover that our shifts overlap a good forty minutes for three days of the week each week. That's not very long, but it's longer than I usually saw him in school at one time, so I have a feeling that wprking here is going to be both a bit of a bust and kind of…fun. In that entertaining, bonding way.

Because after discussing Prom, Dave seems back to his semi-usual self, and talk to me more. The poor guy must have been angsting over Prom for weeks, but now that it's settled, he's fine. And to think a place like Office Max fixed that; go figure.