Chapter Text
John: What are you up to right now?
Dave: Homework. Calc is kicking my ass.
John: Uggggh.
Dave: Don't you have homework to do?
John: I can't concentrate. Come over.
John: Pasta or leftover pot roast bribe.
Dave: Did it ever occur to you that I might actually go on a diet someday?
John: Well, Mr. Nose Tackle, is today that day?
Dave: No, I'd just like to state it for the record.
John didn't move from the bed, tossing his phone and letting it vibrate and flash- the screen telling him that he'd gotten more texts from Dave. His arm slumped over his eyes and only moved slightly to wave at Dave when the window opened and Dave appeared in the room in person.
"So what did she do today?"
"How do you know she did anything?"
"Because when you ask me over to do homework and bribe me with leftovers, there is a reason, J. Now what's up?" Dave asked, letting his book bag thunk to the floor while taking over the swiveling office chair.
John sat up on his bed. "Same old, same old. Mr. Schuester actually thinks she should sing a song by Meatloaf. Meatloaf is my thing! I mean, can you honestly imagine-" John opened his mouth to recite her sins, but it didn't seem to have enough weight to verbalize itself. And it wouldn't be anything Dave hadn't heard before.
"It's just one song."
"It's every song. She gets every song! And her boyfriend. And Blaine. And-" John groaned, not wanting to mention Kurt's name.
"I thought you said Santana and Sam got to sing," Dave said nonchalantly, going back to his math homework as though this was the norm.
"Yeah- I guess. But I haven't gotten to- not since my audition and it's driving me up the wall. I mean, how do I get better if I can't ever get out of the chorus line?"
"You've got other stuff though. We've got other stuff."
"Are you still mad because I dropped the ball getting donations for our safe zone training?"
"I don't really get mad anymore. I guess I'm just- disappointed. Look, I know you did me a favor by joining glee club. You can quit. If you're unhappy-"
John shook his head, sitting up and coming to the edge of the bed so that he could go and get Dave the food he'd promised him.
"No- I agreed to this. We'll get you closer to Kurt- somehow. Don't worry Dave. I'm just- Rachel makes everything difficult. I've never met anyone so driven that they were determined to destroy an ensemble. It's a nightmare, that whole room. She has them thinking she's some sort of savior Streisand incarnate," John chuckled darkly, a slight sob just barely masked in the back of his throat. "But we'll make it work- for you."
"Well hey, I mean, listen- you're doing this for me. Why don't I do something for you to help you destress? We could hit up Scandals- try to get you laid?"
John snorted. "God no. Not while Sebastian's around hogging the only guys that don’t come complete with steroid acne."
“Wasn’t it you who said beggars couldn’t be choosers?” Dave fired back, grinning slightly because John was far enough away from his pillow that he’d never make it back to his bed to get one to throw at Dave before Dave had one of his own. “Why not Sebastian, huh? You two get along okay.”
"He's a beanpole. No thanks. Plus, I'm a better singer. He's a little too...Marilyn Monroe for me. Maybe I should start singing Disney songs while gazing wistfully out of my open window and a gay man will appear that’s just right for me.”