AN: Oh boy. Plot bunny. I can't help it, I LOVE Dave. He reminds me too much of a character in the novel I'm writing for me to hate him. I'm primarily a Klaine shipper (Harry Potter and Glee coming together in a GREAT WAY) but I still love Kurtofsky. I guess I can't be disappointed either way. ^_^ (Also, chapter 2 of Top Five Things You Didn't Know About Percy Weasley is coming soon!) I just had to write this, or it would NEVER leave my head - most people don't seem to write about Dave and Azimio and their friendship. I hope you all like it!
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, Super Smash Bros., or Quizno's.
How many times had they sat like this? Dave couldn't even begin to count. His dad had always said that he and Azimio were joined at the hip or separated at birth.
This is the first time in Dave's life that he can remember feeling any differently.
Azimio clears his throat. "So."
"Nothin'. Just… so."
And silence again. It takes every ounce of strength Dave has to keep staring straight ahead and let himself continue to sit on his front porch. He wants to scream, kick something (maybe Azimio), or just cry, but he knows he can't. The smallest movement could change everything. He's just dropped a pretty big bombshell; the last thing he wants is to spook his best friend into leaving, especially when things are going better than he could have ever expected.
Not that it's going well, but at least no one has thrown a punch yet.
Azimio heaves a deep sigh, running a hand over his face. "I'm sorry, man, but this is kinda weird for me."
"I just…" Azimio shakes his head. "How do you know? I mean, are you sure?"
"Trust me, dude, I just know." Dave fights the urge to run his fingers through his hair. He can't move now, can't wreck this now. "I've known for a long fucking time."
"Like how long?"
"Don't know exactly. I actually acknowledged it like two years ago."
Azimio lets out a low whistle. "Sweet baby Jesus. Two years?"
"Yeah. But I think I always kinda knew. On, like, a subconscious level." Shit, that sounds so cliché.
"I don't really know what you want me to do about this, man."
Dave feels a twinge of annoyance. "You don't have to do anything. It's not really about you."
Azimio snorts. "Like hell it's not. Why are you telling me this shit if you think it's got nothing to do with me?"
Dave's jaw clenches so tightly he vaguely remembers that surgery patients used to have to bite leather to keep from breaking their teeth. He hopes to God he won't hurt himself. "I don't know. Hasn't it occurred to you that I might just want to talk about it with someone?"
"But why me? It's not like I know anything about being a – I mean, about being… that way."
He can't say it. He can't say that little, three-letter word. Then again, he can't use the same insults that so casually rolled off his tongue so many times before. At least there's that. This is almost comforting to Dave.
"I don't need to talk to someone who's… that way." Now he can't say it either? What the hell is wrong with him? He just said it less than five minutes ago. "I just need to talk to someone. I'm kinda losing my shit here. I don't really know how to deal with all this."
"Hold up." Azimio finally looks at him. "I'm the first person you told?"
"Well, yeah." Dave has to fight to keep the exasperation out of his voice. "I mean, Hummel knows – I didn't exactly tell him, but he knows – and he told his…" He doesn't want to say the word. It makes a strange lump swell up in the back of his throat.
Azimio fills in the gap. "I'm sorry, dude."
"Yeah. Whatever. It's not like I didn't expect him to keep what happened to himself."
"Why? What happened?"
Dave really doesn't want to talk about this. It's too much. Hasn't he already said enough? Can't there be a part of his pain that just goes untouched for the day? He's already humiliated.
"Dude." Azimio sounds slightly panicked. "What did you do? Oh my God. You didn't…?"
Dave hears the hesitation in his voice and knows exactly what it means. "No! No. God, no. No, I just… well… I kinda kissed him."
Utter silence. Dave stares at his shoes. He has never felt like a bigger loser.
"You kissed Hummel?"
"And dude's got a boyfriend?"
Heavy sigh. "Yeah."
All of a sudden, Azimio laughs. Not just a light chuckle, but a full-on belly laugh, the kind he only produced during old Jim Carey movies or a seriously good episode of How I Met Your Mother. It's definitely not the sound Dave was expecting.
"What?" He tries not to sound defensive, but it can be hard not to be a little hurt when your best friend (who you just fucking came out to, for Christ's sake) starts laughing at your rejection.
"Nothin', man, it's just… fuck. You really know how to pick 'em, don't you?"
Dave's cheeks burn. "Oh, fuck you."
"Come on, man. You got rejected by literally the only guy like that at the school. That's fucking hilarious." Azimio wipes his eyes on his letterman jacket, still sniggering.
"It's not funny! It sucked! He looked at me like I was some kind of monster."
"Well yeah. You're like twice his size. He probably thought you were trying to eat him."
"Is that a fat joke?"
"Shit, sorry. I know how picky you gay dudes are about your appearance."
And there it is. The word. It makes all of Dave's muscles tense (whether it's from the situation at hand or from habit, he doesn't know). Dave doesn't know if it's his own shift in demeanor that gets to Azimio, or whether the other jock just realized what he had said, but Azimio instantly goes quiet.
After a beat or two, Azimio quietly says, "Sorry. I didn't mean for it to come out that way."
"For what to come out what way?"
"That joke. I didn't mean to be offensive or whatever."
Dave stares. This is the same guy who routinely called Finn Hudson bisexual and referred to just about everything even slightly feminine as "homo." And he's choosing this moment to become politically correct?
"I'm not offended," Dave says quietly. "At least you actually said it."
"Yeah, like that means shit."
"But it means something." It means you're still Azimio.
"So what happens now?" Dave's just glad he didn't have to ask this. He was too afraid of the answer. Not that he has one.
"I think that's sorta up to you," Dave grunts. "I mean, I'm the one who dropped this on you. It's up to you what you do with it."
Azimio looks at him, and for a second, Dave is absolutely certain that he's about to punch him. There's a look on his friend's face that he's never seen, and it scares the hell out of him.
Then Azimio stands up.
"Here's what we're doing." Azimio's voice takes on the tone of one who will not be contradicted. Dave thinks of his dad. "We're getting in my truck, getting a pizza, then going back to my house and playing Super Smash Bros. Then, we can talk about all this shit. If you want, you know. Like, you could get all personal or we could watch, like, a gay movie or some kind of crap. And then we're gonna go to Quizno's so I can hit on the chick behind the counter, and you can make eyes at the dude there or whatever." He tosses Dave the letterman jacket that has been lying on the porch behind him. "Sound good?"
Dave stares. "You… You serious?"
"Man…" Azimio shrugs. "You're you, okay? And you're still you. And we're still us. I don't give a shit what or who you do, you're still my best friend." He slaps Dave's shoulder. "Now c'mon, pussy, I'm hungry."
Dave grins as he tugs on his jacket. "You know," he says as they pile into Azimio's truck, "that guy at Quizno's is pretty hot."
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