A/N: Still don't own Glee. Hoping that after this week's episode I wouldn't want to disown it!

Dave was still nervous about going to Scandals. True, this was his second time, so he was a little over the shock of it. But it made him nervous when Sebastian drank so much; he was worried for him, and wondered how he'd managed to go here alone and not get assaulted. He looked over at the confident boy who was driving beside him, and wondered what this meant to him.

He knew that he found Sebastian attractive. Hah! That didn't begin to cover it; 'Bastian was fucking hot! But he didn't know how to sort out his own feelings; did the fact that he found his friend hot mean he was falling for him? Was it just that, as 'Bastian himself had already told him so dismissively, he had no experience, and so was desperate for any guy who might reciprocate his interest in some way? He was still not over Hummel, not really; he would never admit how much he'd thought about him in the solitude of his room. But again, 'Bas was ready with an answer for that too: he needed experience, to broaden his world; and the fact that he really didn't know Kurt as a person (as Sebastian had so cruelly made him realize, when he couldn't answer even basic questions about his likes and dislikes) showed that it was a crush, no more.

And no less. Here he was, starting to admit that he found guys attractive, and he was faced with the painful realization that no one was checking him out. He didn't blame them; he wasn't pretty, like Kurt or 'Bastian or even Blaine. Is it still called an Old Maid if you're a guy, he found himself wondering. How lame is it to wonder about this?

Sebastian glanced over at Dave, changed the radio station (if they played that damn Katy Perry song one more time he was seriously considering writing a nastygram to the station manager), and frowned. They'd enjoyed dinner well enough, he thought. And he was sure Dave knew that he was proud of the progress he'd made, and that if it had come to it, he would have helped Blaine face the fucking homophobes who infested that ludicrous public school.

"Why so serious?" He tried to keep his tone light.

"Oh, I dunno. I mean, I'll try to dance a bit this time, but … I don't know."

He pulled into the Scandals parking lot. "Growly. Look at me."

Dave did as instructed, keeping his face as neutral as he could.

"Talk to me. We really don't have to go if you don't want to -"

"It's not that. Exactly." Dave's eyes drifted to his shoes.

Frowning, Sebastian reached out, and gently cupped the other boy's chin in his right hand, imploring him to look his way. Dave responded to the gentle touch, not expecting it but not wanting to fight it either. "Spill. I want to know. No bullshit, either. I won't have it," he finished, a playful tone creeping in.

"You'll think it's stupid," Dave muttered, closing his eyes this time.

"Probably. Tell me anyway."

Dave looked at him, took a deep breath, and blushed slightly. "I … I just don't know the point. You, you're made for this place. You're a great dancer, you sing too, and well," he dropped his glance again, before finding his resolve and meeting Sebastian's gaze, "you're hot. Probably half the fucking place wants you! … And then there's me. I mean -"

"I'm gonna stop you right there, Growly." Sebastian's tone was firm, so Dave didn't continue. "You really are a bear cub here, and you're right if you think you're inexperienced. But you're pretty hot in your own way, damn it. Believe me, there are definitely guys who'll want to hit on that, once you relax. You have nothing to worry about, I swear."

"You don't want me." Dave said it, and then couldn't believe he'd said it out loud.

"Oh? And you know this how, Growly? I'm not going to even answer that, but you've got to do a better job remembering what I tell you." Seeing the fogged look of the boy in front of him, he let out an exasperated sigh before continuing his thought. "I don't do relationships. I do sex. Which I do very, very well, by the way," he said, his smirk returning. "You, Growly, are my friend. I think you don't know how rare that is. Doesn't matter," he nodded dismissively. "I guarantee you I don't stay involved with the guys I fuck. Feelings don't go into that."

Sebastian wondered momentarily if he'd gone too far. He'd always warned Dave that he wanted their relationship as friends to be completely open and honest; none of this shit of trying to look good for each other: he wanted to know the good, bad, and the ugly about Dave, and he'd shared bits of that himself. After their fight at the McKinley game, Dave had been mindful of Seb's demands for no-holds-barred honesty. He'd even been surprised that, true to his word, nothing he'd confessed had ever really shocked or offended his experienced friend.

But Sebastian knew that Dave didn't see it that way; for all his appearance, Dave actually had the heart of a romantic. He wasn't kidding when he tried to assure him that once he met the right guy, someone would be over the moon for him: Dave was a bit messed up, sure, but at heart he was kind, decent, and could even be funny. And he was a great friend.

"All right, if you say so. I'll try. I'll even dance a little. Will you listen to me if I ask you to stop drinking?"

"You're on, Growly. Now, come on, let's have some fun, damn it."


Blaine pulled into Kurt's driveway. He mused that the house could only just contain all the activity in it, with all the cars accounted for and everyone home, plus a couple extra, there to hang with Finn. He grinned, it looks like every light in the place is on. Such a contrast from his father's house in Westerville, which usually felt stiflingly quiet. He knocked on the door, and was almost instantly rewarded with an armful of Kurt. Holding the box with the red and white bakery ribbon aloft he happily returned the embrace.

Noticing the unusual one-armed hug Kurt lifted his face from where it had nestled into Blaine's neck. "What's that?"

"Oh, just something to share, for having me over for dinner."

"You know you don't have to do that," Kurt reminded him gently.

"Basic manners," Blaine answered, in his impression of an airy, dismissive Kurt-ism. Returning to his usual tone after noting Kurt's reception of his gentle mocking, "my mom. You know, she insists it's her culture, so it's mine too. You don't go to dinner empty handed. Ever."

"I love your mom," Kurt cooed. "What's in it?"

Blaine chuckled. "Italian bakery cookies, from this great place in Columbus. You'll love them." He followed Kurt towards the busy kitchen. "My father bought them, but it was my mother's idea." He smiled evilly before leaning in and whispering to Kurt, "he thinks you must have a real sweet tooth; this is the second time he's bought you pastry."

Blaine laughed as Kurt blushed crimson. "And you let him think that! What on earth do you suppose he thinks I look like!" he fussed, picturing the worst possible scenarios.

"Love, I know and you know it's a treat for you, not like you sit around stuffing yourself with twinkies are anything -"

"Not worth the calories!"

"- and that's exactly my point. Which is," and he punctuated this with a few gentle kisses, starting at Kurt's jaw and working his way up to whisper in Kurt's ear, "we both agree that you deserve the best pastries we can find." Okay, he thought, maybe I'm stretching this a tiny bit, but hey.

Kurt smiled a crooked smile, and shook his head. "I am so going to choose some before Finn and the guys get a hold of this."

"Get a hold of what?" Finn had materialized as they talked in the kitchen.

"Dessert, Finn. Traditionally eaten after dinner. And we will not attack it like a bunch of neantherthals."

"Uh, cool, dude. Though, I'm like pretty sure just one wouldn't wreck my appetite or anything..."

"Finn!"

"All right, all right already. Later, dudes."

"You don't suppose I could try one now, while we get ready?" Kurt whispered, as Finn retreated.

Blaine smiled at his boyfriend's eagerness, and wondered if he didn't really have a serious sweet tooth after all. "Well, I did request extras of my favorite, which I'm guessing will be yours too. Maybe we can split just one."

They hadn't noticed that Burt and Carol could see and hear them from the doorway into the family room. Burt motioned for Carole to join him there, and when she did, he leaned over to her and said conspiratorially, "I think I like that boy."

She smiled fondly in the direction of the kitchen. "I know, he's so relaxed with him, like he feels free to really be himself."

"I wonder what's up with the cookies? They really do look great."

She drew him into a hug. "I'll make sure Kurt is distracted later so you can enjoy one or two in peace."

"My partner in crime. I love you. So much."

"Love you too. You're the best."


Dave hadn't stayed long on the dance floor. He'd tried, even 'Bastian had admitted this, but he felt ridiculous after a while, and had retreated to the bar. So far his friend was in control. He could have sworn when they were dancing 'Bas had actually flirted with him, but now he wasn't so sure; maybe that was just his default.

"One Mojito, and one for this cutie right here," a voice next to him called to the bartender over the techno dance music. "You don't mind if I buy you a drink, right? I'm Jeff."

Dave was startled, but took the hand proferred to him. "Yeah, sure. Thanks. Um, I'm Dave." The man to his left was maybe in his thirties, wearing a simple blue button down shirt and khakis. He looked like he was chronically slightly sunburned, with reddish hair just beginning to thin.

"Dave. You new here?"

"Sort of. I mean, I was here once before. I'm here with a friend," he added. Lame. I am so lame. He didn't know what to say.

"Boyfriend?"

"Nope." Sebastian had been clear enough on that.

Jeff smiled. "Me neither. That makes two of us, footloose and fancy free." He nodded to the bartender and accepted the drinks. "Here's to us, and good luck and all that."

"Uh, thanks?" Dave sipped the drink. He'd never had one of these, shit, he'd had practically no experience with drinking, and enjoyed the flavor more than he expected.

"Whoa, cowboy! That's not kool aid," Jeff smiled. He gestured for another for Dave. "My treat, looks like that one wasn't exactly big enough."

"These are really good. Wow." He tried to remind himself to sip slower this time. Then he felt a hand and an arm alight onto his shoulders. "Tastes great."

Jeff smiled at the boy next to him. Newbie. Adorable. He massaged the firm biceps on the boy approvingly. "I know it does. Gee, you feel tight." Slipping to stand behind the boy, he placed both hands on his upper back, and started to caress the muscles in lazy circles. "Shush, it's all right, I just wanna help you loosen up. This feels good, right?"

Dave suddenly felt tingly all over. Was it the drinks (he'd now downed two of whatever-those-were, they were fucking delicious, as well as two beers before), or was it the man's hands, all over his back and shoulders. He stared straight ahead, and let Jeff do whatever, becoming a little alarmed when the older man's hands drifted to his waistband, caressing his hips. Then he felt arms come around him, with hands resting on his pecs, staying there to continue massaging him, as the man whispered in his ear, "let's go dance."

Sebastian noticed Dave get up a little unsteadily, and his eyes darted to the bar, where the bartender was just clearing several empty cocktail glasses away. Shit. Dave was being led onto the dance floor by a friendly looking man who clearly was calling the shots.

"Thirsty, babe?" the guy he'd been dancing and flirting with asked, seeing Sebastian's eyes on the bar. "Not a bad idea, honey."

"Not now, thanks." Sebastian surprised him, straightening up, and suddenly looking absolutely sober.

"Boyfriend troubles?" the man asked, sympathetically, seeing that his companion was now focused on watching someone on the dance floor.

This was met with a smirk. "Not exactly. But I think my bear cub friend might be getting in over his head."

"Oh." His eyes found where Sebastian's were riveted. "Hey, no offense. Let me know if you have any trouble. Jeff over there doesn't mean any harm, but he doesn't speak newbie too well, if you get my drift."

Sebastian looked at his dance partner a little closer. "Thanks for that. You're all right." He wondered if he'd wait until tomorrow to harass Dave for being the one to get stupid with drinks. Nah. No time like the present, he thought, preparing to cut in on Jeff and then take Dave for a drink. Of coffee.

A/N: Thanks to my reviewers, you inspire and encourage me, bumping writing another chapter to the top of my to-do list (again). Who knew Sebastian would step in to defend Dave's virtue?

Shout-outs to: new readers, Kellyb (do catch up on your sleep, but I'm so glad you're enjoying); and klainebecks. Welcome aboard! Selibow, one of your promptlets made it here (klaine treats cuteness); VisionPossible, trekker, Sopphires, DumbHumanLikeYou, shorty, DancingintheRayne – I hope you're enjoying the Seb/Dave storyline. BlurtitallOut, don'tdissmycriss, I'mJustDefyingGravityX3, msdarque, rosecriss; sheshaPottergleek, kawaii01 as you can see, Michael is trying. Believe me, it's not in character for him to get things like the bakery errand right, so Christine and Blaine definitely see this for the symbolic act that it is: he's trying to be thoughtful.

Until next time!