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FIC: Serendipity—Hold the Cliché (7/?) 
27th-Aug-2012 11:03 am
Title: Serendipity—Hold the Cliché
Author: Tessisamess & Sparklpocalypse
Pairing: Kurtofsky
Side Pairings: Finchel
Minor Pairings: Tike, Blaine/OMC
Rating: NC17 (overall)
Genres: Slice-of-life, romance, future!fic, college!fic, angst
Spoilers: Canon up to 3x14
Warnings: Don't highlight unless you want spoilers! Character death (not Kurt or Dave), homophobia, and a serious lack of spontaneous singing.
Word Count: 4,731 // 28,818 (of ~80,000)
Summary: Sometimes you find love in someone new; sometimes you find it hiding in plain sight. Kurt and Dave have been friends since their senior year of high school, but when they unexpectedly run into each other at a Halloween party everything changes.

A/N: Soooo I've been forgetting to post. Like, hardcore. My bad! OT3 Bang shit and work has been keeping me busy. I think I'll schedule the rest of the fic so we don't have this ~problem again lmao. Except for this week, postings will still be Sundays and, flying spaghetti monster willing, we won't miss another one.

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six


When Dave heard the keys in the front door he shut Kurt's bedroom door, turning the light out as he did. He hadn't been there long, but he was pretty sure Anna had kept his boyfriend out all day as promised. He'd told her he didn't care where she took him, so long as he was gone until at least three. That would give him time to get into town and stop at the store before coming over. Dave was just glad she'd remembered to leave a spare under the mat or he would have been screwed.

As it was, he'd made the drive from Philly in, not great, but decent time, dinner was in the fridge, Anna had insisted on being busy all evening after bringing Kurt home and, somehow he'd managed to pick out some flowers from a cart down the street without feeling like he'd picked something completely terrible.

"—want to say I can't believe he just kept going, but this is New York."

"Still, you'd think he'd whip it out a little more discreetly."

"Kurt, babe, you know better than to expect smelly strangers on the subway to be discreet."

Kurt sighed. "True." A pause. "Think Johnny's emailed me those photos yet?"

"I think he emailed them to you the second you left his line of sight," Anna laughed. "I gotta go, though. I'm long overdue for a date with the research library. If I look hot in any of the shots, forward them to me, 'kay?"

Dave huffed an almost silent laugh under his breath as he listened to them, excited, but also feeling... a little creepy. He stepped back, sitting down on the edge of Kurt's bed as he rested the flowers over his knee.

"Don't stay there so long that they lock you in."

"Hey, that was one time," Anna protested.

Dave rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, half-wondering if he had time to check his phone before Anna and Kurt parted ways.

"And don't forget to eat! The last time you wrote a research paper you emptied the fridge when you came home, you barbarian!"

"Yeah, yeah." There was the sound of the front door opening and closing then, and it was obvious Anna had left the apartment. Almost immediately after that, Kurt started humming.

Dave was starting to wonder if, maybe, he should come out to greet Kurt. He held out a little longer, though, mainly because he was looking forward to the look of surprise on the other man's face (and maybe even the split second of terror—just for comic value).

Obviously having finished checking his email, Kurt approached his bedroom door, the volume of his humming increasing as he did. He opened the door and walked in, walking right past Dave to take off his watch and put on the dresser then stow his shoes in the closet. "... mmm, mmm-mm—I guess you'd say, what can make me feel this wa-aaaaugh!" he squawked as he turned around, seeing Dave sitting on his bed. He pressed a hand to his chest, breathing heavily with wide eyes, and hopped off the dresser, which he'd leapt backwards onto in surprise. "You asshole!" he gasped, but he was grinning, which was probably a good sign.

Dave barked a sharp laugh, getting to his feet. "Serves you right for taking so goddamn long, Jesus," he teased, opening his arms for a hug.

Kurt barreled into Dave's arms, knocking him back onto the bed. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, though the way he was currently wrapped around Dave made it clear he didn't mind Dave's presence.

"Had a little free time—thought I'd surprise you," Dave managed, one arm wrapping around Kurt as he tried to keep the flowers out of harm's way. "But I can see this's a bad time. I'll just go."

"Don't you dare," Kurt muttered, hugging him more tightly.

"Miss me?" Dave asked, craning his neck so he could drop a kiss into Kurt's hair.

"Nah," Kurt said casually, sitting up. His eyes crinkled at the corners despite the bland expression he was wearing.

"Yeah, I didn't think so," Dave drawled as he sat up as well. He held out the flowers, which were red somethings-he-couldn't-name, with a soft smile.

Kurt took the flowers and sniffed them, looking up at Dave through his lashes as he did so. "Thank you," he said, smiling and sniffing them again. He checked the bottom of the bouquet, probably for the water picks that were on the ends of the stems, then got up and set it on his dresser next to his watch.

"I got some stuff for dinner too; it's all in the kitchen," Dave told him, unable to help the way his gaze raked over the line of Kurt's body. It had only been a couple of weeks, but it felt like a hell of a lot longer.

"Sounds great," Kurt replied. "You should probably take your pants off, now." He pulled his shirt up and off, tossing it aside, then moved his hands to his belt.

Dave's brain stalled for a moment as it processed the words—then he stood, hurrying to get his shirt off before undoing his fly, watching Kurt undress the entire time.

A moment later, Kurt's jeans and socks were off, kicked to the same corner his shirt had landed in, and he tucked his thumbs in the waistband of his briefs to shuck them off. "God, I missed you," he declared, climbing back on top of Dave. It was the last coherent thing he said for a long time.


Dave pressed his lips against the curve of Kurt's shoulder, stifling a yawn as he did. "We should probably make dinner," he commented, wrapping an arm around Kurt to keep it from straying and distracting them both.

"Not yet," Kurt replied, pressing a finger lazily against Dave's lips to shush him. "Let me enjoy my afterglow."

Dave chuckled quietly, settling in more comfortably next to Kurt as he gave in. "I can stay until tomorrow night; you want me to?" he asked, pretty sure the question was probably a stupid one.

"Hmm, let me think..." Kurt murmured, grinning.

"I know, I know. You're just using me for my dick. Time for me to pack up and get out." Dave grinned. "That'll be fifty bucks."

"You're way cheaper than the locals," Kurt said with a smirk. "How much for the whole weekend?"

"Depends on how much more you intend to use me, I guess," Dave drawled.

"No hourly rate?" Kurt asked.

"Well, you're pretty cute; I could cut you a deal."

"What do you have in mind?" Kurt asked.

"Well..." Dave pretended to think about it. "If you can handle most of the cooking tonight maybe we'll call it square, huh? Besides, the food'll probably stay food that way."

"I suppose I could do that," Kurt replied. "In a minute." He pressed closer to Dave and slid an arm under Dave's, wrapping it around his back.

Dave laughed softly under his breath as something occurred to him. "You're gonna be so sick of having me around once I'm in town for good. I'm just gonna be over here all the time," he said, pulling Kurt in a little closer.

"Yeah, that's gonna suck," Kurt muttered. After a moment, he pressed a kiss to Dave's chest and then sat up, slowly and carefully. As he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, he must've caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror by the dresser, because he snickered. "Now I know why they call you bear cub," he laughed. "You mauled me." He gestured at the many love bites and patches of stubble burn that covered his torso, neck, and shoulders.

Dave's cheeks colored slightly at that. "I missed you," he offered as a defense, reaching out to trail the back of his knuckles up the line of Kurt's spine slowly.

Kurt turned back to face him, his eyes soft. "I missed you, too," he murmured. "Come on." He took Dave's hand and pulled him from the bed. "Anna will be out for most of the night. We have the place to ourselves."

"I know," Dave said with a grin, pleased with himself.

Kurt shot him a look. "Is that why she insisted we had to spend five hours at Toys R Us?"

Dave laughed. "That's where she took you? I said entertain—not babysit."

"Five hours, David," Kurt said. "Five. Hours. I never want to look at another Barbie again."

"Aw, I'll make it up to you," Dave cooed, fighting a smile as he gave Kurt a light swat on the ass.

"Food first. Then you can apology maul me." Once in the kitchen, Kurt pulled an apron down off a hook and put it on, tying it securely. "So what did you bring?"

"Um," Dave drew the sound out, train of thought completely derailed as he stared at Kurt's ass under the apron tie. "Steak, and..." he waved toward the fridge. "Food."

Kurt bent to look in the fridge, retrieving the steak, along with the green beans and potatoes Dave had apparently brought. "I've got just the pan for these," he said. He placed everything on the counter and reached for the rack above the sink to pull down a few pans, his whole body stretching as he did so.

"God, I hate you so much," Dave groaned, eyes never leaving Kurt. Finally, he tore himself away, figuring he should put his jeans back on so he wasn't waving a hard-on around in Kurt's face while he cooked.

"Liar," Kurt called, a smile in his voice, as Dave retreated to the bedroom.

When Dave came back he was partially clothed. He didn't bother trying to find his shirt in the mess they'd made since all the important stuff was covered. "You're gonna pay for this later," he promised, smirking slightly.

"Oh?" Kurt opened the oven and bent to put a dish holding the potatoes, sliced and covered in something that was probably delicious, inside.

"Mm, oh yeah. Although, I don't see the outcome so much fixing the problem as possibly making you walk around naked in that thing more," Dave admitted.

"I could just take it off," Kurt suggested, hands going for the ties.

"Do that and dinner's completely out of the question," Dave warned, only half kidding. "You want any help?" he asked, nodding toward the general area of the kitchen.

"I think I've got it covered, actually," Kurt replied. "It'll be a bit, though." He opened one of the overhead cabinets and reached for a canister of seasoning.

"Then I guess I can just stand in here and be in the way," Dave offered, leaning against the counter.

"Works for me," Kurt said. He reached around Dave to grab the green beans, crowding into his personal space to do so.

Grinning, Dave slid an arm around Kurt so he couldn't leave. "I like cooking," he commented. "We should do this more often."

"Only with food that you don't actually have to cook," Kurt replied. He kissed Dave's jaw and twisted out of his grasp, beans in hand. "You're too distracting for food to survive you as my sous chef." Then he opened the microwave, tossed the steam bag inside, turned it on, and walked back over to Dave, this time to grab the steak.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Dave replied, pretending to be offended as he, yet again, pulled Kurt into a one-armed hug.

"I'm sure you don't." Kurt's hands skimmed Dave's sides as he reached behind him for the steak.

Dave leaned in, kissing the side of Kurt's neck. "I don't," he replied with a low hum, biting gently.

Kurt moaned softly, his head tilting to give Dave better access. A second later, though, he seemed to remember what he was supposed to be doing, because he placed a hand flat on Dave's chest and pushed himself away, looking reluctant to do so, and said, "Food first. Then round two."

"Yes, dear," Dave drawled, crossing his arms over his chest since he was pretty sure that was the only way he'd be able to keep from grabbing the other man again.

"How do you like your steak?" Kurt asked as he tore open the package, then rummaged in the cabinet for yet more seasonings. "Because I like mine still faintly mooing, so if you like it cooked more than that..."

"Yeah, that works," Dave assured with a small laugh. "My dad thinks it's disgusting, though. Drives him crazy."

"My dad likes his blue rare," Kurt replied. "I cook mine slightly longer than that."

"Reassuring," Dave said with a laugh, eyes wandering yet again. "Shit, babe—could you at least put on some underwear? I dunno how much longer I can watch you prance around in that thing."

"I don't know, you seem to be preoccupied with me when I'm wearing those, too," Kurt replied once he'd gotten the steaks into the pan. But he seemed to take pity on Dave—because the next minute, the apron was flying at Dave's head and Kurt was dashing to his bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind himself.

Dave blinked, having to take a second to process what, exactly, had just happened. By the time his brain had caught up with the flurry of movement, Kurt was already on his way back out. Dave groaned. "You know, that isn't much better," he commented.

"What?" Kurt looked down at his jeans, socked feet, and tee-shirt. Which was actually Dave's tee-shirt that Kurt had pulled off him earlier. "I'm dressed," he pointed out with a shrug. The collar of the shirt slipped to the side, revealing his shoulder as he picked up a fork to flip the steaks.

Dave's lips thinned, slightly in annoyance, but mostly from holding back a laugh. "You're a terrible human being," he commented, resolving to get Kurt out of his—their—clothes as soon as there wasn't a hot stove to keep in mind.

"You really should've realized that before you fell for me," Kurt replied casually. "Now you're stuck with me." He shot Dave a grin as he put down the fork and opened the oven to check the potatoes.

"Yeah, well you're stuck with me—so who's really the dumb one in all this?" Dave teased.

"I dunno," Kurt said. He grabbed a wooden spoon to poke at the potatoes and continued, "I mean, you're nice to look at, you buy me flowers and food, you screw like a pro, and you don't mind my icicle toes afterwards. I think I got the better end of the deal."

"Well okay, maybe you—did you just call me a hooker?"

Kurt laughed and closed the oven. "That depends. Are you going to start charging? Because I think we could work out a deal."

"Well, if I'm that good maybe I should," Dave pointed out. "But do you really wanna run the risk of one of your media stalkers finding out you own a rent boy?"

"You make a fair point," Kurt replied. "Guess I'm the only one you'll be sleeping with for the foreseeable future." He put a hand on Dave's shoulder and said, attempting sincerity. "I know you're disappointed about the missed opportunity for promiscuity, and I'm sorry I've forced you into that decision."

"I'll show you disappointed," Dave laughed, arm wrapping firmly around Kurt's waist as he turned to trap him against the side of the counter. He leaned in to kiss the other man, one hand gripping the side of his shirt to hold Kurt close.

Kurt laughed into Dave's mouth and, as they parted a long moment later, said, "Well, you seem to have gotten over that loss with commendable speed."


The headline, when Kurt saw it, was almost hilarious in its sensationalism. He'd grabbed his phone in the morning to check his messages and, instead of the expected two or three, he had a few dozen texts and emails, almost all of which were directing him to the Daily News' website. There, on the top of the gossip page, he read, "CONGRESSMAN'S SON'S DANGEROUS HISTORY WITH BOYFRIEND."

Now he and Dave were standing in his living room, staring at the same headline. "... should we read it?" Kurt asked, head tilted.

"I'm not sure I want to," Dave admitted. "I mean, I knew it was bound to happen eventually, but I bet everyone thinks I beat you or something."

"Let them," Kurt decided, wrapping an arm around Dave. "We both know differently." So did everyone close to them; it was enough.

"Yeah... yeah, you're right." Dave agreed.

The article itself didn't seem to bother him as much as the headline of it initially had. It didn't put Dave in the best light by any stretch but, when Kurt brought up the fact that the rest of the truth would inevitably come out as well (and probably soon), he managed to both visibly relax and tense up again at the same time. None of it was really anyone else's business and they both knew that—but Dave had known what he was getting into from the start, and he didn't seem likely to back down from that.

"I'm sure my dad's team is working on a rebuttal," Kurt said after a moment. He wasn't worried about the article changing his dad's mind about Dave, and whoever had written it obviously didn't know him well enough to think something like this would reopen wounds that had healed years ago. Dave was a different person now—they both were, and no article in the Daily News was going to change that. "He'll probably have it submitted to the Times," he added.

Dave was quiet for a moment after nodding in agreement, then looked at Kurt, looking oddly like a kicked dog. "...you wanna go get some ice cream or something?"

Forty minutes later, they got off the A and climbed up the stairs through a colorful mosaic depicting the layers of the Earth. "They sell ice cream here," Kurt said with a grin as they stepped onto the sidewalk outside the Museum of Natural History.

A grin he couldn't quite manage to help spread over Dave's face, lighting it up as he took Kurt's hand. "You know we're about to spend the next three hours looking at dinosaurs—right?"

"I don't see a problem with that," Kurt replied. He led Dave to the entrance of the museum, adding, "I think they've got a special on them in the IMAX," and waited for Dave's reaction.

"Fuck yes," Dave uttered, voice just on the safe side of Too Excited, without actually crossing the line. Barely.

Kurt chuckled and nudged his shoulder against Dave's. As they entered the museum, Kurt felt an abrupt tug on his arm as he attempted to approach the ticket desk and Dave suddenly stopped walking. He looked over and saw Dave staring up at the fossilized Barosaurus, smiling broadly. He grinned and stared up with his boyfriend.

Dave slid an arm around Kurt's waist, pulling him closer even though his eyes never left the Barosaurus. "Definitely the coolest date ever."

"Already? Guess I don't need to buy the tickets, then," Kurt joked. "Come on, we'll go have dirty water dogs from the cart outside, instead."

"No way," Dave laughed, finally tearing himself away. "C'mon," he said, nodding toward the desk.

After a brief disagreement over who was paying, Kurt finally managed to slip his credit card to the cashier without Dave noticing. A moment later, the cashier returned the card and handed them their tickets, and they approached the ticket taker. Dave was almost bouncing in excitement, likely at the thought of seeing more dinosaurs, and Kurt, who had been to the museum more times than was probably healthy, grinned at Dave's enthusiasm.

"You know," Dave commented, "I haven't been to a museum in, like, almost ten years."

"What—really?" Kurt asked. He was sure that at McKinley, there'd been a few class trips to science and history museums. But now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember Dave having ever gone. "Good thing you've got a boyfriend who's willing to fix that."

"Remind me to thank you later," Dave replied, quietly enough so that the mom and two kids not far behind them wouldn't overhear.

"With ice cream, of course," Kurt said wryly.

As expected, within a couple seconds, one of the kids piped up with "Mommy, can we have ice cream later?" and Kurt stifled a laugh.

"You're terrible," Dave murmured, nudging Kurt gently—then was distracted. Again.

Kurt laughed, audibly this time, as Dave dragged him toward a display case. He was glad he'd worn his comfortable shoes for this trip—he'd need them if Dave's energy kept up.

After an hour of wandering through the museum, Dave finally seemed to have calmed down—a little, anyway. He rested his chin on Kurt's shoulder, wrapping his arms around the other man's waist as he peered into the glass case. "Lemme guess. You want it," he teased.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kurt drawled, tearing his gaze away from an inch-thick chunk of opal. "That one's nice, though." He gestured at another piece of the same mineral in the case.

"I'm just gonna assume you want 'em all for big, old lady jewelry," Dave joked, squeezing Kurt slightly before straightening as his arm slipped away.

"Actually, yes," Kurt replied. "I'm playing a bag lady in a one-act this month." When Dave raised an eyebrow, he added, "All the roles are gender-swapped. It was my professor's idea—something about broadening our emotional ranges."

"Huh. He doesn't know you very well, does he?" Dave asked with a laugh. He probably figured, with all the female company Kurt had kept over the years, the man had no problem understanding women.

"Probably not," Kurt conceded. After all, he had Rachel as a sister-in-law, and more to the point he'd been known to have fits of pique, himself. "Want to go see more dinosaurs?"

"Do I even need to answer that?" Dave asked, hiding a smile as he slipped his hand into Kurt's.

"Hey, you might get bored of them," Kurt said, grinning.

Dave snorted. "Maybe when I'm dead."

"Here, let's go through the gift shop. It's a shortcut," Kurt suggested. He headed in the direction of the shop, tugging lightly on Dave's hand and smiling knowingly. When Dave saw the memorabilia in the shop... his wallet would likely leave the museum quite a bit lighter.

Dave grinned slightly, following Kurt easily. "I might regret saying this, but I feel fine—you don't need to keep bribing me into a better mood." He sounded almost like he'd been about to tack on something inappropriate but, when a group of kids passed them, he stopped talking.

"You seem to be under the impression that of the two of us, you're the only one who likes dinosaurs," Kurt said lightly. "You forget what I was for Halloween, the year you were Thomas."

"Well, I'm sorry if I've offended the mighty Tyrannosaurus Kurt," Dave cooed, tone falsely placating.

"You'd better be," Kurt said, smirking. "I'll eat you if you cross me."

"Promise?" Dave leered.

Kurt's smirk widened to a full-blown grin. "Hell, I'll eat you even if you don't cross me." Then he ducked through a group of tourists to look at the contents of a rack of tee shirts.

By the time they got out of the gift shop both of them had spent a little too much, Dave managing to pay for at least part of it, including a coffee table book he'd said he thought his dad would like, even if the man only got around to flipping through the first few pages.

Kurt gripped his bag of purchases and grinned at Dave. "I can't believe you bought that," he said. "No, wait, let me rephrase. I can't believe you bought that and are wearing it out."

"Shut up," Dave laughed, looking down at his new tee-shirt. "I'm gonna wear it every damn day," he said, teasing. It hadn't been the dorkiest dinosaur shirt they had in his size, but it was pretty up there.

"You'll be doing a lot of laundry," Kurt remarked, cringing inwardly at the possibility that Dave wasn't going to be washing it daily. "Unless you're going to go online later, and buy six more of the same shirt."

"...that's a good idea," Dave muttered, lips thinning as he covered up a smile.

"You'll need a shirt with a dinosaur wearing a tie for special occasions," Kurt reasoned.

"That's true, yeah—or a dinosaur tie." Dave replied.

"Far classier," Kurt said, laughing. He could almost imagine a red carpet event a few years down the line, Dave and his dinosaur tie at his side.

The look on Dave's face hinted that he was almost definitely contemplating actually getting a dinosaur tie... or underwear. Or both. "You hungry?" he asked after a minute.

"Ice cream?" Kurt asked in response.

"Well, that was what we were supposed to be doing," Dave agreed.

"I didn't hear you complaining," Kurt drawled. He took Dave's hand and tilted his head toward a flight of stairs. "Come on. Cafeteria's this way."

"Uuugh," Dave groaned dramatically as he let Kurt lead him away. "My boyfriend sucks. He made me go see cool dinosaurs and shit."

"I bet that's not the only reason he sucks," Kurt said, waggling an eyebrow. He stifled a laugh when Dave responded by stumbling off the last stair.

"You're terrible," Dave muttered affectionately, rolling his eyes as he stepped behind Kurt to get out of the way of two older kids who were barreling up the stairs.

"You love me," Kurt countered. Somehow the idea of being this warm and open with Dave still struck him as amazing. Sure, part of it was because of who they were and how they'd gotten there, but also... Also, and far more importantly, no matter which of his former relationships he thought of, he couldn't remember ever thinking that just being himself was enough, and Dave had never once expected more than just Kurt.

"I do," Dave gave in with a sigh, squeezing the other man's hand slightly. He looked at Kurt, an unidentifiable look passing over his face before a smile.

When they got to the bottom of the stairwell, Kurt pulled Dave off to the side and, feeling totally smitten, kissed him briefly and sweetly. "I love you too," he said, then he flinched as a camera flash went off. "I thought you guys had to stay outside," he commented, turning to face the photographer.

"Taking my daughter to the museum," the man said, shrugging unapologetically.

"That's weird; is she invisible?" Dave asked, voice forced into an even, flat tone. They both knew that now, right after that article had been published, was not the time for him to lose his cool.

"She's up looking at the flower exhibit with her friends. I got allergies, you understand," the photographer replied.

"Of course," Kurt murmured, smiling tightly. "Listen, there's probably a celebrity baby upstairs somewhere. We're going to go now."

"Sure thing, Rihanna," the photographer replied.

Dave's hold on the other man's hand tightened a fraction; he was clearly over-thinking the entire situation—and fighting to keep himself in check in a way he probably hadn't had to do since high school.

"Let's go, David," Kurt urged quietly, wanting to leave before the photographer goaded them into something they'd regret. "His sources suck." He shot a glare at the photographer and nudged Dave in the direction of the cafeteria.

Untensing a little at Kurt's voice, Dave nodded and let himself be led away.

"Seriously, who's been talking to the press? Jacob Ben Israel? He's about the only person I can think of who'd try to sell this crap to them, and the fact that I haven't seen him since high school would explain why his information's seriously outdated," Kurt muttered.

"I don't know, but I seriously don't understand how you deal with this shit," Dave replied.

"I used to deal by drinking, but that didn't turn out so well," Kurt said. "Now I just remember that no matter what they say about me, the only facts they publicize are the ones I give them."

"Would you be pissed if we went home now?" Dave asked. "It's just gonna take a while to get used to... that."

"Not at all," Kurt replied, understanding. It'd been a big adjustment for him, and even after a few years of it, he didn't think he'd ever fully get over the fact that the paparazzi were tailing him. He couldn't imagine how Dave must feel, having never planned for fame.

"Sorry," Dave offered, looking like he felt more than a little guilty about the situation.

"Don't be," Kurt said. He turned to face Dave, one hand reaching to cup his stubbly cheek. "It's not your fault, it's my dad's political opponents'. If you want, we can issue a statement to go in the rebuttal article. Dad texted me while you were in the bathroom earlier, and said it's almost ready for print but there's space if we want it."

"Well, I—what would we say...?" Dave asked, brows drawing together slightly.
User: Gen
28th-Aug-2012 10:41 am (UTC)
Oh Dave, its easy, you just say:


See? Easy peasy. Wow, I should totes work in PR.

In other news, YOU CONTINUE TO BE RIDICULOUSLY WONDERFUL AND INSPIRE RABID CAPSABUSE. Seriously, I did a little squee-bop in my chair when I saw this :D Dave's dino obsession is made of cute. God, I just wanna bundle him up in cuddles and keep him forever. I feel like I should be mailing you guys cake or something.

...I should totally be mailing you guys cake. I can bake you know.
28th-Aug-2012 02:49 pm (UTC)
Excellent. Of course. \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/
14th-Sep-2012 01:39 pm (UTC)
16th-Sep-2012 11:35 pm (UTC)
I hope there's more soon! I check faithfully every Sunday for an update! Please come back! I miss it to so much! I'll be here whenever you do.
17th-Sep-2012 12:07 am (UTC)
Sorry! There is more, I promise. I've just been busy working and shit lately. :( But I've got everything we've written over to our beta so, once she's done, I can schedule all the chapters. :)
17th-Sep-2012 12:17 am (UTC)
Yay! I don't want to pressure. I know real life sucks. Right now I work full time, go to school full time, and I'm moving this week so I completely understand. You guys are just amazing writers and I fall in love w/ everything you do and I don't want this one to get lost in the shuffle because it's amazing.
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