Dave and Santana
"Okay, Grizzly McCasanova, you and I need to have a little chat."
Dave sighed and pushed his book aside, giving Santana the weary look of endurance that he reserved for her because fuck, no one else ever made him feel so exhausted just by talking. She must have come from a Cheerios workshop, because she was in her old uniform, and she looked both pissed off and tired. Dave had no idea how Sue Sylvester managed to get someone like Santana to spend the summer after she graduated from high school whipping her replacements into shape, but whatever methods she used clearly didn't come with mood boosters for afterward. He decided not to try her patience by pretending he didn't know what she was talking about.
"It's none of your business, 'Tana."
"The hell it isn't!" Apparently getting right to the point wasn't going to appease her.
"Blaine's my friend, too. So far he hasn't managed to catch onto the fact that his friend and his boyfriend are practically frotting literally behind his back every Saturday night, but even Blaine can't stay oblivious forever. You are not going to hurt him and ruin my favorite night of the week just so you can finally make out with Kurt for all of two weeks before the two of you go your separate ways."
Dave leaned forward, elbows propped on the table and hands supporting his chin. He tried to think of the most succinct way to address the utterly ludicrous misconception she seemed to be laboring under.
"Look, I'm not trying to break up Kurt and Blaine." All he got in response was a skeptical eyebrow. Dave threw up his hands.
"Oh, come on, 'Tana! Even if I were that big of an asshole, what kind of chance would I have? Kurt's made it pretty clear, more than once, that I'm not his type."
With that, Dave picked up his book and started to read again. He wanted this conversation to be over. Santana, however, stayed right where she was. After a few minutes, he felt like he could feel her eyes boring into him through the spine of his book.
"What?" He snapped, patience gone.
"You are actually as dumb as you look," she said, with a hint of genuine awe in her voice. "I don't know what Kurt's said to you, but I do know that actions speak way louder than words, and Kurt's actions say he's about an inch away from dumping his adorable mini-Ken-doll of a boyfriend. I don't relish the idea of spending what's left of my summer watching Blaine sob into his pillow—"
"'Tana, I'm telling you, there's no way—"
"—and I don't particularly want to pick up the pieces when college starts and Kurt leaves your ass here." Santana stood up to go, and fixed Dave with a look that was both piercing and a little pitying.
"I suggest you end this game of musical gays before you're left standing in the middle without a chair."
With that, she was gone. Dave sat at the table for a few minutes, book forgotten in his lap, before he pulled out his phone. He needed to talk to Kurt.
Kurt and Dave
Dave waffled back and forth for several minutes, scrolling to Kurt's name in his contacts, hovering over the call button, then tossing his phone onto the table and refusing to look at it before repeating the process.
He wasn't sure how to talk to Kurt about what Santana said. They were in the habit of occasionally texting back and forth, and sometimes they hung out in the middle of the week with the rest of the Rainbow Brigade, but they didn't really talk on the phone so much.
And that aside, how did one go about calling up a crush to say, "hey, I know we cuddle a lot, and we made out on your couch that one time, but you do know I'm not just pining after you or trying to steal you from your boyfriend, right?"
He sighed. There was definitely no good way to talk about this, and he'd really rather just ignore it.
The idea that Santana might say something to Kurt or Blaine wormed its way in a few failed attempts later, and that was what finally made him call. In keeping with Dave's usual luck, Kurt didn't answer. A few seconds later, however, he got a text message.
Hey, I can't talk right now. Helping my dad out at the garage. – Kurt
Oh, okay. Can you call me later? – D.
Sure. Is everything okay? – Kurt
I think so. Probably just Santana being Santana. – D.
Hang on a minute. – Kurt
A second later, his phone was ringing. It was Kurt. Dave took a deep breath before answering, attempting to calm himself down a bit.
"Hey," he said, sounding more or less normal. "Doesn't your dad need you?"
"It's fine. It's slow around here right now. What's going on with Santana?"
"Well, nothing's going on with Santana. It's just something she said a little while ago. I was trying to get some reading done and she…it's pretty stupid. Uh, actually, you know what? Never mind."
"Dave, what did she say?"
That was the dangerous thing about Kurt, more lethal than his coldest glare or his cutting wit: he had this way of speaking that made Dave want to say whatever was on his mind.
"She gave me this whole thing about Blaine and musical gays and college coming up, and told me basically to leave you two alone, like she thinks I'm actually trying to break you up or that I'd have a snowball's chance in Hell even if I was trying. It's because of the movie nights, she thinks sitting next to each other means something, I dunno. You know I'm not trying to mess with you and Blaine, right? I know you guys are nuts about each other, I'm not just hanging around waiting for a chance or anything. I meant it when I said I was okay with being friends, and you've been such a good friend to me, and Blaine's been a great friend to me, too, and I don't ever wanna do anything to hurt either one of you. I'm sorry about the movie nights, I know maybe the way we act is a little weird but you never seemed to mind and Blaine never does and I just…I…" Dave seemed to realize he'd been babbling far too honestly for far too long, and trailed off into silence.
"Wow," Kurt said after a very awkward pause. "Okay. Is there more?"
"God. No. I think I nailed the coffin shut already, anything else would just be overkill."
"Coffin. Overkill. Funny."
"Kuuuurt," Dave groaned. "How are you making jokes? I just made an idiot out of myself. A creepy, pathetic idiot. I'm just gonna go—"
"Don't go," Kurt said softly. He sighed. "Look. Santana's not…she's not entirely off-base, is she? I mean, we get along, don't we? We have fun together. And we have been kind of…um…you know…" Please tell me I haven't been making all this up in my head.
"Cuddly?" Dave said, immediately wishing he could bite off his own tongue. Kurt just laughed, however.
"Yes, that."
"Well, yeah…but you're with Blaine. You like Blaine. I'm just a third wheel." Big, lumpy extra wheel making everything difficult.
"You are not. You are never a third wheel. You—" A voice interrupted in the background, sounding exasperated.
"Crap," Kurt muttered.
"Be right there," he said more loudly, presumably to the voice. "Hey, Dave? I need to get back to work before my dad fires me."
Dave's heart sank. He wasn't sure how much more of this push-and-pull he could take, but he tried to keep the strain out of his voice.
"He'd fire his own son?"
"Oh, absolutely. But he always re-hires me, no worries. Anyway, can…can you still come over early on Saturday? We do need to try to talk things out." Dave felt his stomach twist vaguely toward the shape of the knot it would undoubtedly be by Saturday evening. If you're going to tell me to get lost, I wish you'd just do it and get it over with.
"Yeah," he said, managing to sound more or less normal. "See you then."
Kurt and Blaine
Kurt has no idea how to do this, and he's scared. He knows all about rejection from the receiving end, and it's not something he would ever wish on someone else, especially not someone he loves as much as Blaine. He does love Blaine…but it's not what he thought it was.
He's confused, and terrified. What if he's making a mistake? What if Blaine is it and he's just missing it because he suddenly has another option? What if he and Blaine can never move past this to be friends? He doesn't know what he'll do if he loses Blaine completely. That scares him more than anything, more than the idea of not being able to touch him or kiss him anymore, or call him "boyfriend." All of that is really secondary to the plain reality of Blaine in his life, Blaine there to talk to and laugh with.
He tries to compare this in his head with the idea of losing Dave. He runs over all the things that make him Dave: his laugh, his strange love of math, his habit of singing along quietly when there's music on and he thinks no one is listening. Kurt remembers the feeling of Dave's arms wrapped around him, the sense of safety and warmth, the electricity of kissing him.
The thought of Dave not in his life terrifies him just as much as the thought of losing Blaine. Losing all the rest of it, though? The kisses and touches, the casual intimacies? With Blaine it's a dull ache, a sense of this used to be mine and I feel like it should be still. With Dave, however, the ache is to the bone, like a deep-tissue bruise being continually prodded. Somehow, after everything and over a series of moments when Kurt's guard was down, Dave became important to him. So important. How did he not see it happening? There's a need there, and it turns his stomach so hard he has to curl up into a ball just to give his arms something to hold onto until the feeling passes.
In the end, that's what convinces him this is the right decision, but it doesn't take away the fear. When the doorbell rings, Kurt moves to his front door with legs like lead, and his anxiety must show on his face, because as soon as Blaine sees him he wraps him in a hug. Kurt buries his face into Blaine's shoulder, taking a deep, guilty breath and preparing himself for the coming break. He can't, he knows he can't, but he has to. Even if nothing ever happens with Dave, Kurt knows how he feels, and knowing that…nothing else is really fair. He pulls back from Blaine's embrace and looks him in the eyes, heart cracking at the concern he sees.
"Kurt? Is everything all right?"
Blaine and Dave
Dave? Can we talk? – Blaine M. Anderson
M? What's the M stand for? – D.
Michael. Anyway, are you busy? – Blaine M. Anderson
Not really. What's up? – D.
Kurt broke up with me. – Blaine M. Anderson
WHAT? – D.
Yeah. Just now. I'm in Lima, just left Kurt's. My ex-boyfriend. Wow. – Blaine M. Anderson
Okay, just stay there. I'll come get you. – D.
That's really not necessary. I just wanted to tell someone, weirdly enough. – Blaine M. Anderson
Are you okay? – D.
My boyfriend just broke up with me, Dave. But sure, of course. I'm just peachy. – Blaine M. Anderson
Fine, stupid question. Sorry. Want to get coffee? – D.
I usually get coffee with Kurt. – Blaine M. Anderson
Want to get ice cream? – D.
I'm lactose intolerant. – Blaine M. Anderson
Oh. I didn't know that. Sorry. – D.
It's fine. – Blaine M. Anderson
You wanna get a drink? – D.
God yes. – Blaine M. Anderson
Okay, meet you at Scandals? – D.
See you there. Thanks, Dave. – Blaine M. Anderson
Anytime. – D.
So…I just took Blaine home. – D.
He was pretty messed up. – D.
He already misses you. – D.
Kurt? – D.
I don't want to talk about this right now, if that's all right with you. – Kurt
Okay. Fine. You know my number. – D.
Still coming over early on Saturday? We could talk then. – Kurt
Sure. Are you gonna be okay? – D.
Thanks for asking. I'll be fine. It just needed to happen. – Kurt
Okay? – D.
Saturday. Goodnight, David. – Kurt
Night Kurt. – D.
Author's Notes: Sorry for the long gap between updates! I just didn't know how to end this. There's only one more chapter and it should be going up later this week. Hell, I might go ahead and put it up today if I have time to work on it. Thanks for reading and thanks so much for all the enthusiasm I've gotten for this short little story.
- The Raisin Girl