Chapter 7

Soup for You

Karofsky might be a little OOC in this, but in a good way, I think.

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Let the record show that nonchalantly trying to visually-stalk someone in a crowded hallway was very hard to do. Stealth-mode wasn't exactly Mike's specialty; so far his attempts at being subtle usually ended with him whirling about spastically to pretend to take up the oh-so natural activity of staring at the wall whenever Karofsky so much as tilted his head in the dancer's general direction. He knew he wasn't doing well. Rory and Sam (who was back, by the way, with no one questioning why) had taken to following Mike around to see what the hell was so fascinating on McKinley's dented lockers, and with Brittany quickly joining their escapade Mike's stealth mission was beginning to look more and more like a lost tour group that were being scammed for all they were worth.

Great, Artie and Kurt had just joined in. Fan-freaking-tastic.

It was days like this where Mike wished he had stolen Puck's spy camera. Mike hadn't been pleased when he discovered that it had recorded their first…rendezvous. Sure, the footage was ultimately deleted and the tool locked away to prevent future damages, but he should have just taken it. Think of all the good it could have done, in the proper hands.

Finn and Rachel floated over, arm-in-arm from their happy world of sunshine and eagerly joining in Kurt's enthralling discussion on the provocative nature of this water stain as compared to that one, how it represented the blah-de-blah-de-blah-blah-blah and Mike began edging away from the group, hoping to still be able to get back to tailing Karofsky. He wanted to intercept him before he got to his car, find a good place to corner him and do that talking thing before the dancer's brain exploded into a thousand gooey pieces to decorate the surrounding area. Now that would be something worth looking at.

Mike was almost around the corner, taking each step slow and deliberate. Carefully, thoughtfully, not sporadic and loud and overdramatic…y. He was a leaf in the wind and if they wanted to be deeply enthralled with discussing the deeper meanings of extracurricular activity poster arrangements who was he to stop their fun? He wasn't a party-pooper, he was Mike Chang. Laid back, awesome, cool- no, scratch that, super cool, and he was just going to nonchalantly walk this way as though he had not inspired a bunch of people to stare at a wall and-

"Dude," the voice came from right beside his ear, Puck leaning over his shoulder in subdued fascination. "What are they looking at?"

Puck stared at him expectantly, not at all bothered by how much of Mike's personal bubble he was violating. Chest to back, hand on shoulder while he gave the glee club a confused look from the other one, Mike kind of wanted to sucker punch him for how freaking oblivious he was. He was a guy, and Mike was a guy, and he was trying to re-assert his heterosexuality (you know, as much as he could while chasing down that guy he once made out with) and Puck wasn't helping.

The dancer pulled away, shucking the other teen's hand off his shoulder as casually as possible.

"Nothing," he bit out just before completely ducking around the corner and speeding away. In a very manly fashion.

That was him, machismo incarnate.

Mike hadn't wasted too many brain cells on Puck lately but after the sudden disinterest in the Asian Fusion and Zizes, and then that "Hot for Teacher" number he just had to do, added with the looks he had been throwing at Mrs. Corcoran, Mike had the unsettling feeling that Puck had decided to go for the overall grand supreme title of stupid decision making. One that would definitely involve some form of official harassment charges being made. Mike wanted to be concerned, he did, but…well, Puck wasn't his problem anymore. The mohawked teen had decided that for him. And Mike wasn't bitter about it, or had feathers ruffled or any ill-feelings he just…

He'd look into it later. Puck was still his friend after all. He'd take a break and then jump back into the crazy world of Noah Puckerman and try to instigate a semblance of order. Keep the guy out of jail. It was the least Mike could do. After everything that had happened.

Once you hunt for an accordion in New York with a guy you were sort of bonded. To insanity, at the very least.

As soon as the sounds of his friends disappeared behind him Mike took off in a sprint, aiming towards the back parking lot where Karofsky's truck was located. That detour hadn't cost him too much time; there was still a chance that he could make it. Worse comes to worse he could just throw himself in the front of Karofsky's vehicle and hope the guy's instinct to avoid jail time would kick in fast enough to keep Mike's pedestrian ass safe. Because that didn't scream desperate. Or confused. Damn, Mike was confused, sort of, though in retrospect Karofsky liking guys made a lot of his past actions understandable. Not reasonable, because they weren't by any means, it just meant that there was some kind of human motivation involved that wasn't just the need to revel in other's anguish. Dave had seen what Kurt had gone through and refused to allow it to happen to him, choosing to play as offensively as possible to ensure that he would stay safe.

Mike had to hand it to him, it worked really freaking good. He hadn't suspected this in a million years. And the fact that he and Santana had dated also made more sense and-

A hand latched onto his shoulder and yanked him into an empty classroom, lights dim, but Mike didn't need them to know that Karofsky had figured him out from his terrible attempts at reconnaissance and decided to provide a more appropriate location for talking. Unless he wanted to take back his initial reaction and start making Mike's face a lot more bruised and unpleasant, in which case he should probably start curling into the fetal position about right now.

"Chang," Karofsky greeted tersely, studying the dancer carefully.

"Dave," Mike replied, far more aloofly than he felt, shrugging a hand off his shoulder the second time that day and resisting the urge to rub it, knowing it would be sore later. No wincing. Now was not the time to show signs of weakness. Also, wetting himself should be avoided. It was difficult to have a mature and thoughtful conversation with soiled pants. Didn't really give off the safe and assured vibe.

There was a thoughtful silence where Karofsky continued to study him, any anger overruled by curiosity, like Mike was some sort of new species or something. He reached out again, gently rubbing Mike's abused shoulder muscles. An apology of sorts.

Mike shuffled his feet, trying to hide his nerves. It was weird, Karofsky treating him like this.

"Sorry," Dave mumbled, staring at the sore spot. Mike shrugged, shaking his head in silent forgiveness. He wasn't sure if he could get his mouth to work again. His tongue was tangled up in knots, ungracefully hindering his already lacking conversational skills.

Damn it.

Karofsky stepped closer, kneading the tender spot and brought his other hand up slowly, tracing along the side of Mike's face like he had done that one time, back then, when he had kissed him and-

Shit, his feet weren't working, what was he supposed to do? Yeah, he could admit Karofsky was a great kisser but he had a girlfriend and he wasn't gay and leading Karofsky to think that he was wouldn't end well for anyone but Mike was probably past the point of no return anyway because Dave probably wouldn't take too well to "Sorry I kissed you, big misunderstanding, hope you don't mind" thing and agree to keep quiet about it, and he really was a good kisser, even if he was a guy, and Mike was a guy, but lets face it he had sucked face with Puck enough times for his libido to get past that little hurtle with flying colors. What should he do? Think, damnit, there had to be options. Options other than panicking. What should he do? This wasn't bad, but Mike wasn't a whore, but maybe he should be one because then he wouldn't get his face smashed in and Tina liked it when he made out with guys anyway so why not just invite Dave to a threesome and everyone could get out healthy and happy and Mike's mind wouldn't implode on itself from lightspeed nerve influx and did he even not want to kiss Karofsky, because if he really didn't he would have put up a bigger fight by now, but it's Karofsky, and -

"Figures." a voice called from the direction of the door, grinding his train of thought to a screeching halt. "I knew you had to get your new squeeze from somewhere. Why else would you dump Puckerman like a pile of rotting garbage?"

Mike paled and held still, as though that would render him invisible to the naked eye.

…oh no.

Oh no, oh fricking god no, not her, not with him, not now-

But Zizes was never one to be deterred, not by him, not by Puck and certainly not by the likes of Karofsky and she entered their hollowed ground with a confident swagger that could only be portrayed by someone who had completely owned up to who they were as a person. Someone who had never lost a fight and never intended to.

She studied them carefully, eyes narrowing as though there was anything else she could discern from their compromising position. She shut the door and reclined against it, cocky smile in place like she now held the secrets of the universe. A grand master inspecting two unsuspecting pupils. It was their move, and she waited. Allowing the anticipation to build.

Strangely enough Mike hadn't been shoved away like he had thought he would. It wasn't like Karofsky was struck dumb or anything, he was surprised, but he played to win too. He lowered his hand away from Mikes face but kept the other on his shoulder, refusing to back away. He didn't own up to what his previous intentions had been, trying to show that he didn't scare easy. A big step, considering what he had done to Kurt. This had to be far worse for him than it could ever possibly be for Mike.

Mike had dealt with the evil of Zizes before.

The hand that gripped his shoulder was shaking, slight and almost imperceptible, but there.

God, he was such an asshole for dragging Dave into this. He should have just paid his debt and gotten Zizes off of his back, even if she hadn't earned it.

Dave cleared his throat, getting back into character, as Rachel would say. Transforming from the Dave that could be gentle to the Karofsky that dumped slurpies on people just because it was Tuesday.

He cocked his head to the side, casual, and glared at Zizes. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Good, pretty intimidating, considering how they'd been caught, but it was all for nothing. Lauren didn't pay the taller jock any attention, she just continued as though she had never stopped talking.

"Oh," she whispered innocently, tapping the side of her chin, attention completely on Mike. "That's right. He dumped you. So…" she trailed off, eyeing Karofsky with evilest, most self-satisfied grin ever possible. "He your rebound?"

Dave tensed, hand gripping hard again, and Mike's mind raced to try to put up a reasonable defense before Karofsky decided that Mike's freak-out in the locker room was the result of bad feeling from a break-up. That Mike had used him (though he hadn't known, couldn't that be an excuse?). But he needed to satisfy Zizes and keep Karofsky on his good side and he was really missing gentle-giant Dave because at least that guy made him feel safe, which seemed ridiculous, but it was true-

"We weren't dating."

Woah…his mouth decided to step up to the plate, actually putting up a solid and strong sounding argument while his head was busy running in circles. Good mouth, you can have a cookie this time.

Or maybe soup, it was a healthier choice.

Zizes raised a dubious eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with his progress. "You were willing to have sex with him."

The hand tightened some more, leaving definite bruising, but Mike kept his eyes on Zizes. "To get him to leave me alone."

It was all in the details.

The building pressure on his arm immediately subsided, and Dave leaned into his line of vision, half-hiding looks of concern. Like he wanted to be but just couldn't show it.

"Is he bothering you?" he asked, throwing occasional angry glares at Zizes to establish that he was still the alpha male. For the most part she just looked amused.

Finding that his tongue had once more decided to be uncooperative, Mike shook his head slowly, taken away by the sudden change into nice-Dave and trying not to be overwhelmed by the fact that nice-Dave was…kind've nice.

Focus Chang.

This was not the time to be sidetracked.

Gagging noises come from the direction of the door, and Zizes rolled her eyes at them, clearly having found that this conversation no longer held anything of interest to her.

"Whatever, do what you want Changster." She paused with her hand on the doorknob, giving Karofsky an appraising look. "Your over-gooey love is too disgusting to talk about," she declared, and immediately left, leaving the two jocks blinking in surprise.

That was as close to a "Your secret's safe with me" as they were ever going to get.

For Karofsky's peace of mind, Mike explained this.

"She won't tell anyone."

Dave blinked, clearly jolted out of a steady thought process as he stared at the door, and Mike found himself the focus of those damn hazel eyes again.

Wait, since when did he know what color Dave's eyes were?

Thankfully his train of thought was interrupted by an inquisition from Karofksy, the taller jock going back to rubbing the sore spot on his shoulder. "You and Puck?" he asked, tilting his head to the side casually.

Mike flushed, trying not to fidget again, and rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the floor. "It's a long story."

He didn't expect much past that, maybe that they would say their awkward goodbyes, or try for a reschedule or call a time out or something, but when Mike looked back up Dave was just studying him carefully, more open and relaxed than Mike had ever seen him before.

He guessed that was what happened when you finally got to own up to everything you were.

"Tell it to me," he offered, genuinely wanting to know.

And for the life of him, Mike couldn't find a way to deny his request.

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Endnotes:

Man, I was afraid the last time I had updated this was 2011. Yay for happy surprises!

Hope it was worth the wait.

Anway, this chapter sort of took on a life of its own. Zizes poking her head back into things was too tempting to be ignored.

*sigh* I miss her so.

Thanks to Rogue Ranger and kisaitaluvr for reviewing last chapter!

Feedback = love : )

Until next time.