Chapter Text
Kurt had just gotten home from a jam session with the band. He stood in the mirror, staring at himself. He was more flushed than usual. He assumed it was just a harder jam. Then, he thought about Dave, and his especially good drumming that evening. He blushed harder, though he tried not to think about that.
Then, that night, he had a dream. A very short one, but a dream nontheless. "Kurt," Dave Grohl, the drummer said in it. "I love you. I really do."
Kurt woke up, gay panic ensuing. He wasn't gay, and especially not for his bucktoothed drummer. I mean, he had a girlfriend! How was he supposed to tell Courtney, "hey, sorry, I have a crush on my male drummer. I'm gay now. Bye." Why was he even thinking about how to break the news to her!? He absolutely was not gay, no ifs, ands, or buts. Yet here he was, pink in the face over one of his best friends, Dave. One thing is him fully supporting the gay, lesbian, bi and yada yada, but him being one is a whole other. He is not one of them. Probably. Whatever, it was just a dream.
It was already next morning. Or, technically, now-morning. Is that even a thing? No. But now it is. He went into his kitchen, hoping some Strawberry Nesquick could distract him. He followed the by-now memorized instructions, but he found that his mind remained on Grohl. Shit. Was Grohl even gay in the first place? Or bi, or pan, or whatever? He didn't remember them ever talking about that type of thing. He almost snorted out his Nesquick. Why was he still thinking about this?
He turned on his television set. Just colors and noise. He tried writing some new lyrics. Only love songs came to mind. He decided to just call Courtney, but only 15 minutes into the conversation she said, "You okay? You seem more distant than usual," and she was right. Her voice didn't have the same butterflies-inducing effect on Kurt anymore. He thought about the way Grohl's long hair flew about wildly when he got to a drum-heavy part. Kurt hung up abruptly. He got up, somewhat dazed, somewhat lovesick, and passed out on his couch.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ♱ ྀིྀ
Kurt woke up. Maybe he shouldn't have drank the beer Krist gave him. Well, really he should just stop drinking at all, to be honest. He had finally stopped thinking about Dave. Well, shit, now that he just thought about it, he's thinking about him even more. Maybe it's his eyes, or hair, or face, or the way he hits the drums, fuck, it's everything. Did he actually like Dave? As a friend. Yes. They've been best friends since 1990. Since Nevermind. But as more than that? He can't be feeling that way now, could he? Anyway, he slept the entire morning. God, did he sleep. And by the time he had woken up, it was already dinner time. Courtney still hadn't arrived.
He could've gotten some McDonalds, but he wasn't in a mood to be quiet and drive far away dealing with paparazzi or creeps. Or he could just go to the market nearby and get, like, crackers or some shit, or even chocolate. And so that was what he did, leaving Frances with a nanny. As soon as he got in the small place, he was grateful the cashier nor anybody recognized him. Kurt bought some chips, strawberry Nesquik, and some chocolate chip cookies which made him think of Dave. Again. God, maybe he just misses him. It's okay. Kurt can call Dave when he arrives. It's fine. It's cool. Oh fuck, it wasn't fine nor cool at all.
"Mister?" asked the cashier.
"Oh, sorry," Kurt woke up from the disassociating, "Here. 40 dollars."
Shit, he shouldn't have bought that much, the bags are heavy. At least he's strong. Well, not strong-strong, but he was able to hold these. Kurt just wanted Dave to be there and help him—FUCK, COBAIN! He could only think about goddamned Dave. It sucked. He wasn't even that hot. Or maybe he was, just a little bit. The way he hits the drums hard is...something. Anyway, it didn't matter, he was already back to Frances, the daughter he loved so much. Kurt got the phone and called Dave. "Hey. You awake?"
"Kurt... What's up? Why are you calling me right now? It's 11pm."
"It doesn't matter. Are you awake?"
"...Yes. I was watching The Exorcist. Why are you calling, though?"
"No reason," he said, a little too quickly. "Just wanted to talk to someone."
"Isn't Courtney there?"
"No. She's staying in Los Angeles with Hole."
"Oh. Do you want me to come over?"
Kurt's heart started beating fast. Why? "Um, sure."
Dave hung up. Kurt's heart still was beating. Why? Why? Fuck. Fuck. He's actually coming over. No. It's okay, Kurt. It's not like he'll bite you or anything (but if he did, Kurt would be grateful).
When Dave arrived, they mostly talked, drank and ate and laughed. Dave would tell jokes so stupid that it were funny, to Kurt, at least. He forgot about Courtney that whole night, as the only butterflies he was feeling were reserved for a stupid drummer named Dave-fucking-Grohl.
Fuck, Kurt, you're so gay.