Series: Perfect *** TEASER 2 ***

Story: Simple Present (5/?)

Fandom: Glee
Author: ibshafer
Rating: PG-13
Character: Dave/Kurt…

Disclaimer: I don't own these people, they own themselves and are just nice enough to let me spin them around the page now and then.

Summary: After the first series of one shots, (named Perfect after the fact: "Past Perfect," "Future (Im)Perfect," and "Present Perfect"), picks up right afterwards following "Present…Tense," a series bridge told from Dave's POV…

*** TEASER 2 *** (Full story to follow when completed! This is just a thanks and an apology for the repost to get the one-shots in one place… thx! ~ibs)

Simple Present

~by ibshafer

Sigh…

Kurt practically said the word 'sigh,' he'd put so much of his being into expelling that one frustrated breath. (Every fiber of his being, in fact…)

Three days.

It had been three whole days…

He was beginning to wonder if he weren't just judgment impaired. Like, terminally. He thought he'd known how this was going to go, but if that were true, he wouldn't be sitting here in his bedroom, all alone, waiting for the phone to ring like a girl…

Pulling his feet up onto the window bench, he reclined back against the curved frame and curled the cover of the big, glossy magazine back on itself. Since he wasn't doing anything else, like talking on the phone to his "boyfriend," say, he might as well take this survey on "Your Emotional Health," whatever that meant…

"#1: List your emotions:…"

Kurt tapped the felt tip on the page a few times before moving it to the empty line for #1.

Confused, angry, hurt, horny…

He stopped, scratched that last one out and made a face at the magazine; he refused to be horny! Refused.

OK, back to the list.

Confused, angry, hurt, guilty…

Wait, what? Guilty?

Why should he feel guilty?

Well, okay, he did ambush Karofsky, press his perfect boy lips against those manly ones and seriously, when he leaned into him, did Dave really have stand a chance?

Sigh…

It had been three whole days and there had been no phone call. And he'd obsessively kept the thing plugged in – and had stayed in his room so he could babysit it. And bought extra batteries. That he also kept on the charger. Just in case.

No dice.

Maybe Dave had washed his hands?

Right…

Maybe Kurt had grabbed a dry-erase marker instead of the permanent one he was grabbing for. (He'd been a little distracted by the still semi-naked, and clearly…um, happy-about-it, Dave Karofsky, with whom he'd just, rather energetically, and yes, rather passionately (bells and fireworks, anyone?) just sucked face

Kurt squirmed on the padded window seat.

How could he have read the signals that wrong? Hadn't the big jerk (he was a 'big jerk' again now that he hadn't called Kurt in three days…) called him back to ask for his phone number so he could call Kurt? Maybe something had happened to his phone? Maybe a relative had died or he'd fallen and broken a bone or failed a civics test and his parents had taken away his cell phone privileges?

And then Kurt physically kicked himself; he was sounding like one of the lovesick women in "He's Just Not That Into You," a movie he had thought stupid, aside from yummy Justin Long and yummier Bradley Cooper, but that was starting to make a sick sort of sense.

These were the things (wo)men told themselves when they didn't want to admit that the guy they'd been out with once and who they had been crushing on, was, well, just not that into them.

Crap…

~tbc…