you can tell me why ; pg-13
“Can I ask you something?”
David tilts his head, and stops in midchew as he stares over at Finn, who’s fixated on his tray of fries and tacos, tapping his feet.
“Yeah, what?”
“Do you have any close friends who’re girls?”
David squints slightly at Finn, a bit confused. “Not really. Got an older cousin that I’m pretty cool with, but she’s married and in Georgia. Why?”
Finn pales even further, and David’s getting worried. The last time Finn was this anxious was 48 hours before an algebra exam, and he passed out cold for a good twelve hours before waking up and becoming even more neurotic. Not that David wouldn’t drag him back to the Hummel-Hudson residence, but Finn was fucking heavy and he did park his car pretty far away.
“Am I…should I be your designated gal pal?”
David didn’t know whether to slap him or to slap him really, really hard. He opted for the more socially conventional route:
“What the fuck?”
“I mean!” Finn starts, backpedaling heavily, “Like iunno, Kurt’s got Mercedes and Rachel and Blaine hangs out with that Elisa girl all the time, and I thought that maybe you should have one so you’re not like, left out of the loop or anything, and I don’t see Az being up to the plate for it, but like I’m cool with shopping if we check out Sports Authority and Auntie Anne’s pretzels and stuff like that, if you want to like I don’t know go to Nike that’s cool too, ‘cause you sometimes get that look in your eyes when either one of them’s like, “oh sorry, can’t hang out, girl time.”
“Hudson,” David wipes his hand before clapping him on the shoulder, “that is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. And somehow also the most touching. Really though. You can just be a dude. We can do guy stuff. In fact, I’d kind of be weirded out if we didn’t do guy stuff.”
“Really?”
“You up for FYE?”
“When am I not?”
David tilts his head, and stops in midchew as he stares over at Finn, who’s fixated on his tray of fries and tacos, tapping his feet.
“Yeah, what?”
“Do you have any close friends who’re girls?”
David squints slightly at Finn, a bit confused. “Not really. Got an older cousin that I’m pretty cool with, but she’s married and in Georgia. Why?”
Finn pales even further, and David’s getting worried. The last time Finn was this anxious was 48 hours before an algebra exam, and he passed out cold for a good twelve hours before waking up and becoming even more neurotic. Not that David wouldn’t drag him back to the Hummel-Hudson residence, but Finn was fucking heavy and he did park his car pretty far away.
“Am I…should I be your designated gal pal?”
David didn’t know whether to slap him or to slap him really, really hard. He opted for the more socially conventional route:
“What the fuck?”
“I mean!” Finn starts, backpedaling heavily, “Like iunno, Kurt’s got Mercedes and Rachel and Blaine hangs out with that Elisa girl all the time, and I thought that maybe you should have one so you’re not like, left out of the loop or anything, and I don’t see Az being up to the plate for it, but like I’m cool with shopping if we check out Sports Authority and Auntie Anne’s pretzels and stuff like that, if you want to like I don’t know go to Nike that’s cool too, ‘cause you sometimes get that look in your eyes when either one of them’s like, “oh sorry, can’t hang out, girl time.”
“Hudson,” David wipes his hand before clapping him on the shoulder, “that is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. And somehow also the most touching. Really though. You can just be a dude. We can do guy stuff. In fact, I’d kind of be weirded out if we didn’t do guy stuff.”
“Really?”
“You up for FYE?”
“When am I not?”