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For the next two or three weeks, I saw Dave every single day. We went everywhere, his house, my house (much to my embarrassment), Burger King, Shell…you name it, we were there. But neither one of us brought up the kiss. Only we knew about it anyway, not Krist or Sandra.

We talked about everything. From music to food to TV….and oh yeah, Krist is still a little angry that we messed up his chance with Sandra, but at least he’s considering letting Dave be our drummer.

It’s once again Monday morning. I’ve decided to go to school today, since I haven’t been there much in the past couple weeks.

It’s yet another freezing cold Aberdeen morning, and it’s raining. I’m standing here, outside the trailer in a t-shirt and ripped up jeans again, freezing my scrawny ass off.

I have to take the city bus to school every morning or walk, because trying to get my car to run is pointless. That hasn’t been so bad since Dave’s apartments are close to the bus stop, and I can usually go see him if I have time, and have decided to go to school.

Okay, I just passed Quick-E-Mart. Dave’s apartments are up next, and then the bus stop. Now the problem is, is how do I keep myself away from Dave so I can go.

I stop right in front of the entrance to his apartment complex, and just stare at the ‘C’ building. I’m dying to go over there and see Dave, but that would really slow me down, and I’m already short on time. I still have to go around the corner, and down to the bench to wait on the damn bus, so I decide to just go on, blowing a friendly kiss at ‘C’ hoping it will find my Davey. Davey? That’s cute.

I go around the corner and see the little shit coming. It pulls up fairly quickly, and I climb on with my hair stringy, my clothes soaking wet and my feet cold. “Hurry up!”, says the driver, once I’m on. I walk to the back of the bus, hoping he didn’t notice that I didn’t pay him. No such luck. “Hey! Where’s my damn money!?”, he yells. “I don’t have any!”, I yell back, half pissed off at the jerk for not just going already.

“If you ain’t have no money, you get your ass off my fucking bus!”

“You shouldn’t use such horrific obscenities on the bus, sir. There might be kids on here.” I laugh, I feel like being an ass today.


“Your being pissy.”


“No, no sir, that won’t be necessary.”

Who the hell just said that? I didn’t say that. I look around, everyone else is in the early-morning groggy state, sipping coffee loaded with caffeine. No body has said anything throughout my little ‘argument’ with the driver. They are all too damned tired. That’s when I look out the doors at the front of the bus.

There he stands. Brown hair dripping wet, beautiful dark eyes, staring directly at the driver. David Eric Grohl. Taking up for me. I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it.

“Who the hell are you? Are you getting on?” I feel like kicking the driver for talking to Dave like that. Asshole.

“Nope, but I’m either taking him,” he points at me, “or paying his way on this bus.” What a sweetheart.

“Well HURRY. I’m running 20 minutes late!”, the driver angrily says, and he’s not the only one who’s starting to get mad. There’s a business woman sitting two seats in front of me, looking at me, the driver, then Dave. “Well come on!”, she says, “I have a meeting to get to! If I’m late---” Dave cuts in. “Here’s the money. Take him to school,” he says, dropping the change in the cup at the front of the bus, then looks at the woman, “Don’t you say anything to him.” He winks at me, waves and the doors slam closed in his face.

I can’t believe what just happened. I’m in shock. All I can do at this point is make a mental note to thank Dave beyond belief and return the change.

School is over a few hours later, and this mornings events are still vivid in my mind.

I get back to my trailer about 20 minutes later, I stopped and stole a chocolate milk from Shell.

I stop dead in my tracks. Is that what I think it is? Is that Dave? Sitting on my ‘front porch’? “It’s about dang time!”, Dave says, his ever-present smile on is face, standing up. I smile and laugh at him a little. Dave walks over to me and takes me in his arms. “Wanna come over for a bit, babes?”, he asks. Babes? That’s pretty affectionate. “Yeah sure,” I respond. He’s still hugging me.

“I hope we aren’t locked out again. I think they are home, but who cares, I can still bring a friend over if I want to,” he says, smiling at me. I feel my heart sink just a tad. I was hoping he felt the same way I feel about him.

We go up the steps, and over to his apartment. “Just a sec,” he says, messing with the lock, and the door swings open. I wonder why they lock their doors during the day. “They are very careful people,” Dave says, smiling at me.

His parents aren’t half as attractive as Dave is, but he looks like their offspring. “David, dear, who’s that?”, his mom asks about me. “Kurt,” Dave says, putting his arm around me. Affectionate, Dave. “Oh…well that’s quite nice,” she says, eyeing me, “Is he….um…more than just your….friend?” Dave laughs, squeezes me close to him and says, “Not yet.” I blush again, look down and giggle. “Ain’t he cute?”, Dave says, and drags me up the stairs. I hear his Mom say, “David! You be careful!” I feel much better now.

Davey sets me down on the edge of his unmade bed, and walks over to turn on the stereo. Punk rock starts playing loudly. Making his way back around the bed, and past me, he starts talking to me.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, Kurtina,” he says. I just know he’s smiling, and he has his back turn to me.

I grin and say, “Don’t call me Kurtina, Davey.”

“Don’t call me Davey!”

“Then don’t call me---”

“Fine! I won’t!”

Insane laughter.

“So…like I said, KURT (Aww, he put emphasis on saying my name right!), I have something I need to tell you.”

I giggle. “Is it something I want to hear? Because if it’s a threat, I think I’m going to---”

“I’d never threaten you!” He giggles. I smile. He speaks again. “I’m going to try to finish this time!,” he giggles, then gets serious. “Kurt, ever since the day I laid eyes on you at Shell, I’ve thought you were beautiful. Just gorgeous. I saw you trying to straighten your hair, I like it messed up, straight…whatever. I saw how nervous you were, and hoped it was because you felt the same way, and I thought it was adorable. The truth is, is that I am bisexual and I don’t have anyone that understands how I feel. I think I’ve finally found someone I can trust, talk to and most importantly, love. I really, really like you, and I’m falling in love with you. I just want to ask you…would you be my boyfriend? I know it’s awkward, even if you aren’t bisexual or gay or whatever, but please? Please? Just try?”

No body has ever said anything so sweet and touching to me in my entire life. No body has ever said anything to me like that. That’s probably why I’m crying.

Dave comes over to look at me, and notices I’m a complete sappy sickening mess. “Aww,” he says, and takes me in his arms. He pulls away, pulling wet hair off my face, kissing my tears away and says, “I’m sorry I love you, Kurtina.”

It’s been 4 days since I last saw Dave. I can’t believe I just left like that. I love him too, and I should have just said yes, and everything would be smooth right now. But nope, stupid little Kurt had to be a dumbass, cry and leave. It’s pathetic, I tell you, it is.

I’m curled up on my bed, sobbing, wallowing in sorrow. It’s just like everything else in my life. Something gets going good for me, and I give it a month or so, I’m happy, having a grand ol’ time, and my world comes crashing down all over again. Dave was another part of my life, but one I was hoping would last, something I was holding onto. I did everything in my power to not destroy this, and now I have to face the fact that I did destroy it, I feel like I reeled it in, and killed it too. Sometimes I hate myself. I’ll never forget you, David Grohl. Never.

I fall asleep to the noises of the black and white TV in the living room.

An hour later, I’m woken up to someone pounding on the front door. Dammit, I was just starting to grow numb to the pain. I don’t move, just close my eyes, and wait for Dad to get it. The pounding persists, and I realize my Dad isn’t home. I don’t want to answer the door, so I don’t, and wait for the pounding to stop. Eventually, it does.

It’s 7:30, evening, and I’m waking up. My neck is stiff, my back hurts and my legs crack loudly when I shift position.

For some reason, my mind drifts back to the pounding at the door earlier. Normally, I wouldn’t even remember that. But for some reason, my mind keeps me awake, forcing that to be a memory. I sit up, suddenly realizing who it might have been.

I slide off my rickety bed, stand up, stretch and sit back down. I pull on my chucks and change into a ripped sweater I found today, and walk to the living room of the trailer. Dad is watching some stupid TV show, and yells at me for blocking the screen.

I’m standing outside of Dave’s apartment, my hair blowing straight back in the icy wind. Here I am, pathetically standing outside of the apartment which holds the most beautiful man known to society. I’m tempted to just turn around, and go home, but something inside of me is telling me that if I ever want to see Dave again, I have to go talk to him.

I cautiously walk up the steps, trying to be quiet. I am up on the balcony and I stare down at the parking lot. I wish I was that little piece of gravel.

I try to prepare myself for the worst, as I nervously ring the doorbell, with a clammy index finger.

The door comes open, and Dave is standing there. I can’t contain my tears once I see his brown eyes looking at me. I’m crying like hell, I can’t stop. He just stands there, door open, staring at me, not talking, offering to take me in his arms, or anything. I am almost ready to leave, when I choke down a few more sobs, wipe my eyes, straighten up, and look at him. Dave speaks once I’m done. “That seriously just broke my heart.”

“Dave stop!”, I squeal. He brought me inside the house, dried my face, pulled me to his room, and is trying to cheer me up…by tickling the shit out me. I’m laughing, squealing and shrieking. “DAAAAAVE!”, I shriek, pretty damn loud, “QUIIIIT!!!” He finally stops, a grin across his face, his eyes shining.

I take my opportunity to tell him something.

“Dave…you know…we haven’t talked for three days.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I don’t like that….”

“Me either.”

“I’m glad I came over here.”

“Me too.”

“Listen…I’m sorry about how I acted the other day…I’m sorry it probably changed our relation--friendship.”

Dave’s smile is struggling to come back.

“I was hoping by coming over here we could fix things.”

“I’m so sorry, Kurt,” Dave says. His dark eyes are shining with tears now.

“It’s okay now, Dave, I promise,” I say, embracing him and holding him as close to me as I can get him, and I feel us both softly fall asleep.

“Good morning, Kurtie,” Dave says, smiling ear to ear, holding out a piece of toast. That’s how he woke me up this morning. I smile, and sit up. He comes over and sits down next to me, holding the toast. I reach for it. “No,” he says, and I look at him awkwardly. He giggles. “I’m going to feed it to you!”, he squeals, sitting on my legs, straddling my waist. He smiles and breaks off a small piece of the toast. “Here comes the airplane!! Open up, Kurtie! Airplane!”, he squeals, and I open up to welcome the food. “Don’t call me Kurtie,” I say, chewing up the toast. He giggles and says, “Okay then…Trukie.”

Dave and I have our fingers lovingly laced together as he forces me to dance around the apartment. He says that if I ever expect to go on a romantic date with him, he wants me to be able to dance, just in case. I told him that the kind of dates I’ve gone on do not consist of dancing, just getting high and listening to a rock band play. He laughed and said he didn’t care because me trying to dance was “adorable.”

Dave’s parents are out visiting Dave’s relatives, and left us here. Dave and I were asked if we wanted to go, but Dave answered for us, saying that we will just stay here this time.

Finally, we sit down on the couch. Both of us are tired from ‘dancing’ but we loved every second of it.

“You know what sucks, babes?”, Dave asks after a while.

“What sucks?”

“Not being able to hold your hand in public without getting my ass kicked.”

I laugh. “I’ve had my ass kicked enough, so I’m kind of used to it.”

“Babes,” he’s taken to calling me ‘babes’ now (anything is better than Kurtina so you won’t see me complaining).


“Nothing…just felt like calling you babes.”

We both giggle and he slides down the couch, stands up, picking me up in the process and saying, “You are light as a feather!”

Setting me down at the kitchen table, he says he’s going to fix me something to eat since a piece of toast “isn’t enough breakfast for a skinny young man like yourself.” He seriously sounds like a parent.

“Do you mind coming with me somewhere today?”, he asks, flipping a pancake. I’m sitting at the kitchen table, right where he left me, with a dumb grin on my face, because he’d make a cute little male housewife.

“Don’t mind a bit,” I say, “Where are you going?”


“Oh, okay.”

“Tell them I don’t want to go,” he says in a childish voice that does nothing but make me giggle. “Aww, I can’t do that Davey! You have to go to the dentist,” I respond, as he places the pancakes at a different chair, to which he sits down at, and picks up a shiny metal fork.

“But they might hurt me,” Dave says, still using that childish tone, as he shoves (SEJ! Lol you don’t mind that word, right? Lol) pancake in my mouth. I laugh, spraying a tiny bit of pancake out of my mouth and into Dave’s pretty hair. “Dammit,” I say, swallowing the rest of the pancake. “Don’t worry, babesy, it’s fine,” he says, his grin still plastered to his face, as he picks it out.

“Davey! I don’t want a bath!”, I squeal. Dave has got this brilliant idea to give his ‘little grungy babes’ a bath. He just laughs and continues to carry me into the bathroom. I’m still squealing and giggling as he holds me hostage, not at gunpoint, but at pink eyeshadow point. He says that if I don’t let him give me a bath, he’s going to dress me up like a little girl and parade me to the dentist looking like a drag queen. I opt for allowing him to give me a bath. Aberdeen is not necessarily the best town to be a drag queen in.

“It’s warm, sweetness,” Dave says, pulling off my t-shirt. I squeal and try to hide the fact that you can count every rib on my body, but he doesn’t let me hide, he pulls my arms away from chest and stares at me. “You sure are skinny aren’t you?”, he says, concern in his eyes, “But ya know what? We are going to fix that!” He leans forward and kisses a rib, and proceeds to undress me until I’m in my socks and boxers.

“This is awkward, incase you haven’t noticed,” I say. Even though we both have quite the liking for each other, and got together this morning, does not make this situation any less awkward. I’ve never undressed in front of a man before, just that one chick---forget I just said that, it’s way to embarrassing.

“I noticed,” he says, smiling, resting his hands on my waist, “But your hair needs to be washed, not to mention the rest of you.” I giggle. “Right-o, now let me get these off,” he says, pulling my socks off one at a time, “These too.” He yanks my boxers down in one quick motion, not giving me time to protest or hide, and picks me up again. I’m glad when I’m finally in the tub, manhood hidden under the foamy bubbles.

All I can do is squeal and giggle whilst he stands behind me in the tub, soaking his socks and the bottoms of his jeans. He’s got that grin on his face as he pours the freezing cold shampoo onto my head, and proceeds to play with my hair, styling it into several embarrassing styles. One is so good, that he makes me let him get a picture. Thank goodness it’s Polaroid, no body else needs to see it.

Dave comes back over to me, pushes me over in the water, and puts my head in it. When I ask what the hell is it that he’s doing, he responds, “Rinsing your hair!”

Suddenly I feel myself growing cold. “Davey, I’m cold,” I whine, childishly as he rinses my hair, me still lying down. “It’s because I’m letting the water out of the tub, angel,” he says, smiling. WHAT? Why didn’t he tell me!? Now Mr.Happy is going to be on display. This can’t be good. I mean, it’s not like it’s anything huge or anything that small, but I didn’t really think now was the time to show it off. He catches on to my nerves, and glances down at it, “It’s cute, babes!” He giggles and I blush.

Dave takes it upon himself to dress me. “This is fun!”, he shrieks. “You can only continue if you promise to let me put my boxers on right NOW!”, I say, smiling. Dave laughs and tosses me a pair of boxers. “I think it’s cute,” he says, again. I blush, and pull on the checkered boxers.


Chapter two for ya’ll! If you read, here’s a dollar, a Pop Tart and a Sprite for ya, just because I’m being sweet. *hugs* *pats back*


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