AN: So… wow. This is more attention than I expected to get from this thing. Now I gotta worry about keeping up the quality!
Still, I'm already almost four chapters ahead, which is much more than I've put into any 'fic attempt of mine in years, so I think I'll be able to see this through to the end. Oh, yeah, and before I forget, this is all based on an angst meme prompt. Yay for me?
Call for aid: I'd love suggestions for the kind of songs an AU Warblers with a voice like Dave's as a (but not only) lead would try. Feel free to comment or PM (assuming I remember to turn it on) me with suggestions. And recommending this to your friends, of course. And keeping your enemies the hell away.
"So," Kurt said with an arched eyebrow, "'their lead isn't very good,' huh?"
Two Dalton Academy Warblers sitting at Kurt's table immediately turned to the third, who was already sinking in his seat, as if trying to burrow away. "That again?" groaned Wes Montgomery, not entirely bad naturedly. "Will you stop?" He turned back to Kurt. "As head of the Council, I apologize for this lummox. We're trying to make him stop putting himself down like that."
"And he's not just fishing for compliments, either," David Thompson added, rolling his eyes. "He actually believes he's mediocre."
The two had walked up to Kurt and introduced themselves immediately after "The Longest Time" ended, with eyes and expressions that definitely said "busted." Though Kurt had never intended, nor particularly wanted, to be a spy, he couldn't help but feel chagrin as he sat at the coffee shop not long after the performance at Dalton. He took pride in at least trying to do well at whatever he did, and there wasn't much question that he'd been pretty bad at this.
"I can't believe that." Kurt cast his eyes in Dave's direction. "If we're going to be friends, I have to tell you that I'm only going to say this once. If you make me repeat myself, I'll slap you. You. Are a wonderful singer. Got it?"
Dave's lips twisted into a grin. "Yes sir," he answered, giving a small mock salute.
David (whose first complete sentence to Kurt had been "it's lucky Dave already goes by that name, or everything would be even more confusing than it already is") rolled his eyes again. "Thank you, Kurt. Maybe you'll get through to him, and we'll finally stop hearing all the 'oh, I need more rehearsal' and 'oh, someone else should have a solo for once.' Sheesh."
The Warblers laughed at that-even Dave. Kurt joined them. "I hope so. You guys are all good."
"And that's why you decided to spy on us, is it?" Wes prodded, bringing the dreaded "S" word back into the conversation.
"You aren't from Carmel, are you?" Dave asked as he sipped at his coffee (much too plain and much too black for Kurt's taste). "This seems like something Goolsby would come up with."
"But he wouldn't be so sloppy," Wes remarked with a grin. "He'd have sent in someone with an imitation uniform accurate down to the last stitch, with at least four hidden recording devices. Maybe some ipecac to pour into our water bottles."
"That's if he could bear to think of us as any sort of threat," David cut in.
"No, no. I'm from McKinley High, in Lima."
Dave raised an eyebrow. "You're a long way from home, then."
Kurt swallowed. "I guess I am." He was never sure what impulse drove the question out of him, but the fact remained, it was there. "So... is Dalton some kind of... gay school?" He'd vaguely heard of such a thing, in New York City (another reason to love the place!), and the idea of one being here in Ohio was at once wonderful and utterly hilarious.
All three Dalton students chuckled at him, which caused Kurt to flush a little. "No, actually," Wes replied with a smile. "There are actually fewer gay guys at Dalton than you'd think."
Dave opened his mouth to speak, but David cut in. "In fact, only one of the three of us is gay." He smiled a mildly odd smile. "Wanna guess which?"
Kurt shifted a little uncomfortably. He was about to say something about making snap judgments and stereotyping, but Wes and David's grins were so eager that he couldn't refuse. "Okay... Ummm..." He looked from Wes to David and back, his eyes roving. Clothes as an indicator was out of the question, of course. Both seemed equally well-groomed, and he hadn't caught any glances other than the norm. Kurt shook his head and shrugged; it looked like it was flying leap time. "Uh... Wes?"
The named boy laughed. "No, sorry, thanks for playing!"
"Kurt, I'm surprised and disappointed in you," David added.
Kurt gave a sheepish smile at David. "Well, I didn't have a lot to go on, and you didn't give me much sign tha..."
"It's obvious you're buying into heteronormative stereotypes," David continued, his tone becoming professorial (or perhaps "I read this phrase on the Internet and I'm pretending I use it every day so I can sound smart"). "What does poor Dave have to do, pinch your butt?"
Kurt's eyes widened. He turned to Dave, who was already blushing. "You?" he burst out before he could stop himself. Good going, Hummel, he groaned inwardly. Way to deepen your humiliation. Dave, for his part, only gave that half-grin of his as he finger-waved. "Well... I mean, as I was going to say... You didn't give me much to go on, so I didn't want to assume, and..."
"It's okay, really," Dave said quietly. "I mean, it's not like I wear a sandwich board everywhere saying 'Gay Man Here'."
"Would be funny, though," David interrupted.
"But I'm not ashamed either. All the Warblers know, and they're cool with it. Hell, I'm out to the entire school."
Kurt contemplated this for a moment as he stifled the pang of jealousy that shot through him. "Anyone ever give you trouble over it?"
Dave shrugged. "Not really. Dalton has a zero tolerance policy against that kind of thing."
Kurt's eyes snapped open. "Really?"
Wes nodded. "Bullying, harassment... None of it is allowed. And the administration takes it seriously. Very seriously."
"I mean, it's not perfect, of course, so I guess it's also good that I'm kind of big," Dave continued. "At least I look like I can take care of myself."
"Glad to see someone can," Kurt muttered under his breath, swishing his drink around in its cup.
A shadow passed over Dave's face, though it quickly set into one of concern. He turned to his fellow Warblers. "Hey, guys, could you give me and Kurt a minute here?"
Wes and David shared a glance. "We can give you five," Wes grinned. "Ten. However many you want."
"Shut up," Dave hissed. Then, louder: "I just want to talk to him alone for a bit."
"Sure, Dave, sure. Wes and I will be... uh... admiring the cars in the parking lot. Or something." The two scurried out, taking subtly long and anticipatory looks over their shoulders as they left.
Dave rolled his eyes, then turned his attention back to Kurt, who was still finding his drink utterly fascinating. "Hey..." No response. "Hey." Kurt finally looked up. "Something on your mind?" No answer. "Look, I know I may look like some big dumb jock, but between you and me... I really don't like most sports all that much. I love hockey, and I play a little when I can, but that's about it. And I know what it's like to be... uh... bullied."
Kurt raised an eyebrow. "People bullied you? What were they, suicidal?"
Dave shrugged. "I didn't always look like this. I used to be fat, bad skin, the works. I started working out because I wanted to fight back. So don't think I won't understand. Hell, maybe I still won't be able to get what you're going through. But try me. You look like you at least need to talk."
Kurt almost slammed his cup onto the table, blinking back tears. "I... It's just so hard sometimes, you know?" he whispered hoarsely. "Every day..."
Dave nodded. "Every fucking day. It's like you can't escape it. You wake up every morning and just want to crawl back into bed, because you know what's gonna happen. But you go anyway, and it happens, and you're wondering if it's ever gonna end."
Kurt's head nearly dislocated from nodding. "I'm gay," he finally burst out. "I'm the only one out at my school."
"Oh." Dave sucked in a breath. "Oh."
"This one guy in particular... Blaine Anderson... It'd be bad enough if he were just shoving me every day, but some of the things he says... I know I shouldn't let it get to me, but... It just gets too much sometimes..." He picked up a napkin and rubbed at his face, for once not caring about the redness it'd leave behind on his skin. "I don't know how much more I..." He stopped abruptly; a warmth had surrounded his free hand. He looked down to the rather startling sight of one of Dave's hands placed over his.
"Hey. Don't say that." Dave's voice also brought Kurt up short; it was soft, far gentler than anything he'd ever heard from a body that big. "You... you're braver than you think."
Kurt laughed a little, though it felt more like a gurgle from a choked throat. "Stop it."
"No, really. You said you're out at your school, right?" Kurt nodded; Dave smiled. "See? You've got a lot of courage. And you didn't even have a Grandpa Murray to teach it to you."
Kurt's lips quirked into a genuine grin; it felt good at that moment. "And you do, I assume."
"Yeah. I'm fucking lucky to have someone like him in my life. He always tells me, 'Stand strong, Davey. You're a good and worthwhile person. Be proud of that.' And I always do what Grandpa Murray tells me. Or you pay for it, believe me." Kurt laughed. "But I think you can too. Stand strong, I mean. Don't be afraid of those fuckers at your school. Get in their face. Make them leave you alone." Kurt opened his mouth, but Dave continued. "And I don't mean punch 'em in the nuts or anything, though that couldn't hurt. I mean, be proud of yourself. Be aggressive. Show 'em that you won't let them define you. Show 'em what it means to be a fabulously gay guy in Ohio." His gaze dropped to the table; he seemed almost as startled as Kurt to see where his hand had gone. He quickly pulled it back, much to Kurt's disappointment. "Sorry. I kinda get carried away sometimes."
"It's okay." More than okay. He turned over Dave's words in his mind. "Stand strong, huh?"
"Yeah. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? They beat you up, but they were doing that anyway. Best case, they start laying off you. Either way, you show everyone that Kurt Hummel isn't a guy who'll be pushed around."
Kurt sighed, looking out the bay windows. On the other side, Wes and David were indeed checking out the cars in the parking lot, only they occasionally shot the oddest looks back at their table. "I'll think about it," he finally said.
Dave smiled, finishing his coffee. "So... who is this Blaine Anderson guy, anyway?"
NEXT: Who this Blaine Anderson guy is, anyway. And a minor incident in a locker room.