something about marriage ; pg - 13
whispermollywobbles said something about marriage…
hence:
“You *lost* it?!”
Blaine raises his hands in surrender, trying not to cower under Dave Karofsky’s stare. It’s been years since he’s been on the recieving end of it, but he doesn’t like the bloodthirsty glint in Dave’s eyes.
“I didn’t lose it! It’s just in an unusual place right now…”
“Where is it.”
“Down…well not really *down* just sort of stuck in one of the sinks in the bathroom.”
Dave tears down the hallway, and wrenches open the door to the men’s room, shocking a few men trying to do their business in peace. Azimio is at the very end of the sinks, trying to fashion a makeshift hook from the safety pin of his corset and some string.
“Oh my god, dude, why the fuck did you give Blaine the ring? You’re the best man, not him!”
“I know dude, I know!” Az snaps back, worry lines etched in his face as he concentrates on the task at hand. “But I only wanted a few more of those weenies on a stick, and he was kind of just standing there and…”
“Oh my fucking god, more than I don’t want this day to be an absolute fuckup, I don’t want to be castrated publicly by Kurt for losing this stupid shiny rock.”
“Then *you* tell me what to do, man, shit!”
A beat.
“Do you think Burt has a wrench on hand?”
**
“It’s righty tighty, you idiot!”
“I went the other way already! I don’t…fuck, is this like European or some shit? Why the fuck is it so….” Dave grunts, trying not to think of how much trouble he’s going to get for getting his tuxedo soaking wet. If he’s lucky, he might get away with not having his pancreas ripped out.
“What’s going on?”
Dave freezes, and out the corner of his eye, he sees Azimio bolting towards one of the stalls and locking himself in. The fucking coward.
“Er. Hey babe,” Dave starts, crawling out from underneath the sink.
“My dad said you needed some help?”
“Oh! No. No no no noooo. Yeah. I’m fine. Here. Things are totally fine.”
(He says, keeping his stained sleeves hidden behind his back.)
Kurt rolls his eyes, “Oh just shut up and give me that wrench,” he says, even though he’s surging forward and plucking it off the floor and crawling under the sink.
“Tell everyone to keep socializing for another thirty minutes, I should be done by then.”
“But…”
“NOW!”
Dave scurries off, and Kurt waits for a minute, before Azimio slinks out of the stall and races after his friend.
God. Men.
--
“What did he say?”
“What did you think he said?” Dave snaps, before sliding bonelessly into the seat across from Az. “Maybe I should let him go.”
“What! You’ve been at this shit for seven years, dumbass, you can’t quit now!”
“Yeah, well, being rejected for the fifth tiime isn’t doing wonders for my self-esteem.” Dave bites his tongue before mentioning anything about his heart, but he tosses the ring box onto the table. “Take it. Not like I need it anymore.”
“Naw man, you just need an Old Spice guy to help you out.”
Dave raises his head. “You know Isaiah Mustafa?”
“What, no! I meant me! I’ve got better abs than him!”
Dave pales, and starts scrabbling for the box back, but Az already plucked it off the laminated menu and stuck it into his pocket. “Oh god, please don’t, please please please don’t, do you have any fuckin’ idea how pathetic that is to…”
“Stay calm, bro.” Az soothes, clapping Dave on the shoulder and strolling off to god knows where.
Dave sits back down, trying to quell the panic attack starting in his chest. This wasn’t going to end well.
hence:
“You *lost* it?!”
Blaine raises his hands in surrender, trying not to cower under Dave Karofsky’s stare. It’s been years since he’s been on the recieving end of it, but he doesn’t like the bloodthirsty glint in Dave’s eyes.
“I didn’t lose it! It’s just in an unusual place right now…”
“Where is it.”
“Down…well not really *down* just sort of stuck in one of the sinks in the bathroom.”
Dave tears down the hallway, and wrenches open the door to the men’s room, shocking a few men trying to do their business in peace. Azimio is at the very end of the sinks, trying to fashion a makeshift hook from the safety pin of his corset and some string.
“Oh my god, dude, why the fuck did you give Blaine the ring? You’re the best man, not him!”
“I know dude, I know!” Az snaps back, worry lines etched in his face as he concentrates on the task at hand. “But I only wanted a few more of those weenies on a stick, and he was kind of just standing there and…”
“Oh my fucking god, more than I don’t want this day to be an absolute fuckup, I don’t want to be castrated publicly by Kurt for losing this stupid shiny rock.”
“Then *you* tell me what to do, man, shit!”
A beat.
“Do you think Burt has a wrench on hand?”
**
“It’s righty tighty, you idiot!”
“I went the other way already! I don’t…fuck, is this like European or some shit? Why the fuck is it so….” Dave grunts, trying not to think of how much trouble he’s going to get for getting his tuxedo soaking wet. If he’s lucky, he might get away with not having his pancreas ripped out.
“What’s going on?”
Dave freezes, and out the corner of his eye, he sees Azimio bolting towards one of the stalls and locking himself in. The fucking coward.
“Er. Hey babe,” Dave starts, crawling out from underneath the sink.
“My dad said you needed some help?”
“Oh! No. No no no noooo. Yeah. I’m fine. Here. Things are totally fine.”
(He says, keeping his stained sleeves hidden behind his back.)
Kurt rolls his eyes, “Oh just shut up and give me that wrench,” he says, even though he’s surging forward and plucking it off the floor and crawling under the sink.
“Tell everyone to keep socializing for another thirty minutes, I should be done by then.”
“But…”
“NOW!”
Dave scurries off, and Kurt waits for a minute, before Azimio slinks out of the stall and races after his friend.
God. Men.
--
“What did he say?”
“What did you think he said?” Dave snaps, before sliding bonelessly into the seat across from Az. “Maybe I should let him go.”
“What! You’ve been at this shit for seven years, dumbass, you can’t quit now!”
“Yeah, well, being rejected for the fifth tiime isn’t doing wonders for my self-esteem.” Dave bites his tongue before mentioning anything about his heart, but he tosses the ring box onto the table. “Take it. Not like I need it anymore.”
“Naw man, you just need an Old Spice guy to help you out.”
Dave raises his head. “You know Isaiah Mustafa?”
“What, no! I meant me! I’ve got better abs than him!”
Dave pales, and starts scrabbling for the box back, but Az already plucked it off the laminated menu and stuck it into his pocket. “Oh god, please don’t, please please please don’t, do you have any fuckin’ idea how pathetic that is to…”
“Stay calm, bro.” Az soothes, clapping Dave on the shoulder and strolling off to god knows where.
Dave sits back down, trying to quell the panic attack starting in his chest. This wasn’t going to end well.