"Santana." Dave said one night. "Kiss me."
"What?" she said, her face in obvious disgust. "You like the penis, remember? My face is attached to a vagina."
"Please, I have to make sure." Dave said, desperately.
"I'll even get naked for you, if you really want to be sure." Santana said. "I mean, I haven't had sex in years, it feels like, ever since this whole… coming out to myself thing, I've felt really repulsed by the male figure, so…" She took off her shirt and her bra, and looked at herself in the mirror. "I mean… I don't see what she doesn't see in me. I'm hot."
"I guess."
"Oh, your definition of hot has the word 'he' in it." Santa said. She felt Dave looking at her… not undressing her with his eyes, but really just looking at her, like he was trying to make her attractive to him in his mind.
"This doing anything for little fury?" Santana said, grabbing her breasts and letting them drop. "Am I gonna have to full strip?"
"No." Dave muttered. "No, you can put your clothes back on."
"Well, at least we're sure." Santana said, grabbing her bra and looking at it. He turned around and went to lay on his bed. "Hey, toss me one of your shirts."
"Aren't.. you gonna put your bra back on?" He said, tossing her a hockey T-shirt.
Santana scoffed as she slid her pants off. "It's not like they leak milk or anything. I don't have cooties, Davey."
"What are you doing?"
"Sleeping over. My parents are used to it. Your parents will be happy that little Dave has lost his virginity."
Dave blushed deeply and said nothing. He dropped his pants and pulled a pair of pajama pants out of the drawer. "Hey, Santana?"
"What?"
"Why are you hanging out with me? I mean, you could just say you're dating me but not actually be with me all the time."
Santana shrugged. "Well, you need someone. And… I need someone. And I figure why waste it anyway. I have no one else to hang out with."
"Have you… have you talked to Kurt?"
"You have got such a hard on for that boy." Santana chuckled. "Yes, I talked to him. He was all defending you, telling me that blackmail isn't going to help that I should talk to you, blah blah, blah."
"I…I don't know." He muttered.
"Okay, look." She said walking up to the edge of his bed. "I sit here and tell you about how much I love Brittany and how much she makes me happy… don't make this a one way street. Why do you love Hummel so much? Apart from the fact that he's the only gay thing you've ever come in contact with."
"Well… I mean… I met him once in elementary school before, back when I was really thin and kind of wispy and we went to the same summer camp. He was making all of these cool things in arts and crafts and I only took it because my mom told me I should take it. So he was making some sort of paper napkin origami thing, and some other kid comes around and smashes it, calls him a fairy boy. And I come over to him and I help him fix it. We were friends, but that was the year I wanted everyone to call me Dan because my cousin's name was Dan and I wanted to be as cool as my cousin. So he won't know it was me, because he thought that he made friends with a guy named Dan. Ever since that summer camp I've been mentally keeping track of him. We got to the same high school and I was so excited, but I wouldn't really let myself feel excited. We're going to be enemies, after all."
"Why didn't you just tell him?"
"Because my friends would rip my head off and eat it, that's why!" Dave laughed. "Being gay is the absolute worst thing that could happen to someone, in their opinion."
"Wow. That does kind of really suck for you." Santana said, looking at her hands. "You know what's funny? In my family, it's better if you're seen as a slut than a lesbian. At least you're a temptress. Incredibly beautiful. If you're a dyke then you're throwing away all of the offspring you can have and everything you are is pointless. Though, I guess, being gay would be much worse than being girly gay." Santana shrugged. "I'm scared too."
"Hey, remember last year when Kurt went out with Brittany?" Dave smirked. "And he was wearing all of that trucker clothing?"
"Yeah. I mean, I knew that Brittany and he weren't really dating because I got with her that night. She said that he's a silly kisser."
Dave's face deepened in his blush.
"Wait, so Brittany kissed Kurt?" Dave muttered.
"Yeah." Santana chuckled. "She said he asked her what boys lips tasted like." Dave closed his eyes and buried his face in his pillow. "What is up with you?"
"I just feel so stupid, I am so stupid." Dave grumbled. "I mean, what if I used my words? Maybe we could be together instead of that prep school prick—"
"Oh my god and they are so together." Santana said, laughing. "Seriously, you don't know. We walked into the choir room one day because we forgot some sheet music and they were sitting in the place where Kurt normally sits, and Kurt was all on top of this hobbit and I swear they were about to try and make little gay children."
Dave could feel the heat radiating off of his face, embarrassed by how much he enjoyed and hated this story at the same time.
"And no, you should've seen Kurt's face. We never catch him off guard and he was like, freaking out, buttoning up his shirt, straightening his hair and like, falling off of Blaine onto the floor. And this kid, this kid was trying to give me the excuse that they were 'practicing for nationals'. So I said 'I didn't know that gay porn had a nationals. I'm glad that you won at states.' And Blaine laughed but Kurt buried his face in Blaine's neck. It was so embarrassing."
Dave groaned. "I am going to be alone forever."
"No, you won't." Santana sighed. "You're going to grow up and move out of this town to somewhere more progressive. You're gonna start wearing glasses and jeffey caps and go to coffee stores and have a steady boyfriend. You'll be fine."
"I just want that to happen already." Dave said, clutching his pillow. "I'm sick of Lima, Santana."
"Me too, big guy." Santana climbed onto the bed and sat next to him indian style. "Hey. I know what I'm going to call you. Teddy Bear."
"Teddy Bear? Is it because of my size and because I'm nice because I swear—"
"Well, it's that and…" Santana smirked and ran to get his open laptop. She google searched 'gay bear'.
" 'Gay bear'? Really?" Dave tried to stifle his laugher. His laugher died once he saw the results. She clicked on the link that sent them to the Wikipedia page. A biker dude with a big mustache and huge muscles grinned at him. Next to him stood a hairy, slightly tubbier looking guy wearing old jean shorts that ended past his knee and an old Nascar shirt. They were marching in the pride parade in San Francisco. Dave frowned, his mouth open slightly. "What…?"
" 'Bear is a subculture of gay where the men tend to be hairier, heavier, or more muscular.'" Santa read out loud. "I figure, you look like these guys. You're a Bear, Dave Karofsky." These men didn't seem to be afraid of cameras. They were proud to be gay, and they didn't look anything like gays were thought to look like. They weren't the stereotype. These were just plumbers and mechanics, hockey fans and monster truck enthusiasts. They just happen to be gay.
"This is the best thing I've ever seen." Dave murmured, staring at the short page with amazement. "Seriously, Santana, you don't know what this means."
"Yeah, I thought so. I figured that it's difficult being gay when your only representation is Hummel. You are definitely no fashion enthusiast."
"I can dress myself when I try!" Dave said defiantly.
"Yeah. Call me when Kurt approves of one of your outfitts."
"Good. I needed an excuse not to call you anymore." Dave laughed. Santana flicked him on the side of the head.