Work Text:
Kurt grabs a bottle of water and a bowl of cut up fruit from the refrigerator and sits at the kitchen table before he does anything else. It's hot for June, just like the spring was hot, and the shop isn't really air-conditioned. It's going to be a toss-up by July: work in the heat on actual cars or work in the office in the air-conditioning on the books.
Snack finished, Kurt puts his dishes away and heads up the stairs. Puck's working a double shift to make up for Monday's missed shift, and Finn won't be home for another hour and a half. Burt and Carole are both still at work and Kurt resists the temptation to walk around completely naked singing.
Instead, he waits until he's upstairs, and then he continues singing loudly in the shower. When he gets out, he pulls on a plain pair of cotton shorts that he runs in, sometimes, and his T-shirt from the Hard Rock Cafe in Chicago. He doesn't care what Carole has planned for dinner; if he hates it, he and Finn can get pizza delivered, and when they go pick up Puck later, no one's going to see him, anyway.
He's just settled in front of the television, trying to decide if he should start watching some episodes of a few shows, or if he should go for a movie marathon, when the doorbell rings. Kurt sighs and goes to answer the door; it's probably one of the kids down the street, selling candy for their baseball team or whatever, so he grabs some cash from the kitchen and heads for the door, swinging it open.
"How—" he stops short. "Mercedes. Hello."
Mercedes steps forward, pushing her way into the living room and sitting down on the sofa. "I tried to talk to you on Sunday, but I never could manage, and then you disappeared with Puck on Monday morning before anyone was even awake!"
"Actually, Leroy, Hiram, and Tina were all awake," Kurt corrects her before he can stop himself. "I believe that it was a concerted effort on many people's part to keep you from cornering me on Sunday, actually, which I very much appreciated up until the moment that you barged into my house just now." Kurt sighs. "Do we really have to do this, ’Cedes?"
Mercedes looks up from the sofa, and Kurt puts his hand on his hip, waiting to see what she's going to say. He's expecting a 'yes, we do' or maybe a 'do what? what do you mean?' but what he does not expect is what actually comes out of her mouth.
"What are you wearing, Kurt?" she asks him incredulously.
Kurt sighs. "Clothing, Mercedes. I wasn't expecting to see anyone tonight."
"You're not going out with Puck?"
"Not that it's any of your business, actually, but Puck's working a double-shift today because he swapped with John or someone to get Monday off." Kurt rolls his eyes. "And I don't care if Puck sees me in shorts and a T-shirt. Am I supposed to walk around my own apartment in New York in designer apparel at all times? Even in bed?"
Mercedes splutters a little, and Kurt see she's just thought of a hundred questions, but what comes out is "And when have you been to the Hard Rock Cafe in Chicago?"
"Over the winter break." Kurt sighs and sits down in Burt's recliner, glad that he didn't actually start a movie yet. "I doubt that's actually what you wanted to ask me, though."
"How could you not tell me, Kurt? I'm your best friend."
"You were my best friend," Kurt corrects her quietly. "I think that if you're honest with yourself, you'll acknowledge that you haven't been for some time."
"And whose fault is that? You with your secret boyfriend and who knows what other secrets!"
"It happened long before Puck and I started dating, Mercedes! And Puck's decision about who to come out to and when is frankly none of your business." Kurt huffs. "Let's see, there was everything that happened when my dad was ill, there was the transfer to Dalton, there was how you apparently could handle my being gay theoretically, but you weren't so excited once it became more than theoretical and I started dating Blaine. I had hoped I was imagining things, but then you started telling me that I was hanging out with guys too much. Spending too much time with my brother and my boyfriend, Mercedes!"
"I didn't know Puck was your boyfriend! I thought he was straight."
"That doesn't matter, Mercedes. You still told me that I was spending too much time with boys, like being a boy was a bad thing. I may be gay, but I'm still a boy. I'm cisgendered, for gods' sake!"
Mercedes' face takes on the stubborn set that Kurt knows too well. Yes, this is exactly why Kurt wanted to avoid having a specific conversation with Mercedes. In the back of his head, Kurt had hoped she'd question some of the others out of desperation, and that they would tell her enough things to sate her curiosity, and then they could continue until August more or less as they had.
"What do you want me to say, Kurt?"
"Mercedes, you spent the year denying the idea that I could be dating anyone or that anyone could be interested in me. I probably said too much to you. I made a specific comment about not everyone being out. I talked about my 'secret admirer' because I thought it was funny. I said I stole the football sweatshirt from my boyfriend. I mentioned having a date." Kurt shakes his head. "By the time prom came, you and Quinn were the only two that didn't know. But I ran for prom king with Puck, Mercedes. And still. Nothing. Just weird sympathy about how I didn't have a date." He laughs bitterly. "There's a LGBTQI youth center in Dayton. We go down there sometimes. You don't think I could have found a date if I hadn't had a boyfriend? Everything was more or less how I wanted it. Someone who claimed to care a great deal about me, though, seemed to think the idea of my dating was almost ludicrous."
"I didn't mean it that way, Kurt! I just meant that there weren't that many options in Lima, as far as I knew."
"Even after I said that not everyone in PFLAG was out!" Kurt rolls his eyes again. "Which I should never have said, but Mercedes, would you listen to yourself?"
"I just thought you would have told me!" Mercedes defends herself. "You could have told me without telling me who."
"You would have asked for details. No matter how many I gave, you would have pressed for more."
"I wouldn't've."
"Oh? So if I'd said that I had had sex, you wouldn't have asked for more details?" Kurt raises his eyebrow. "But then, if I had asked for more detail about what, say, you and Sam were doing, you wouldn't have been so quick to reciprocate, would you?"
Mercedes doesn't answer his question, just plows ahead. "And then you're apparently moving in with him in New York? How long has this even been going on? Did he make you hide it?"
Kurt opens his mouth, contemplating whether he should tell Mercedes to just leave or attempt to answer a few of her questions before telling her to leave, and then he faintly hears Finn's truck. He exhales and looks at his phone; the conversation with Mercedes has taken a little longer than he would have thought, but Finn is also, wonderfully, early. The garage door goes up and Kurt closes his mouth as he hears it rattle down and the door from the garage open.
“Hey, Kurt!” Finn calls out from the hallway. “Why is Mercedes’ car in the— Oh! Uh, hey Mercedes.”
“Hello, Finn,” Mercedes says, suddenly smiling, and Kurt sighs a little, sinking back into the recliner.
“Hi,” Kurt says more quietly, turning to look at the doorway into the hall. “Dad let you go early?”
“Yeah, it wasn’t busy, and I was sweating all over the place, and he told me to go because I was ‘damp and in the way’, I guess?” Finn shrugs.
Kurt frowns. “Well, it’s hardly like you’re responsible for climate change, suddenly.”
“I just came over to see if I could catch Kurt at home,” Mercedes says, smile still on her face. “I kept getting herded away from him the other night! I just wanted to ask a few questions. I’m sure you understand.”
Finn frowns. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure you’re asking about stuff that’s none of your business, Mercedes. That’s why everybody was trying to keep you out of Kurt’s way.”
“So instead she showed up and first asked me what I was wearing,” Kurt says dryly. “I was going to watch a movie, or maybe start one of the old seasons of Survivor. If you’re interested, Finn.”
“You watch Survivor?” Mercedes asks. “And of course I had questions! It’s like Kurt’s been hiding an entire part of his life.”
“Yeah, the part that’s still none of your business,” Finn says dismissively, not even looking directly at Mercedes. “Which season? I was thinking that we could start at the very beginning, or maybe that Australia one.”
“The beginning,” Kurt nods. “I’m pretty sure no one’s going to start discussing it and spoil the end, either.”
“Are you two ignoring me?” Mercedes demands, and Kurt sighs, turning to look at her again.
“Mercedes, we’ve both worked eight hours today. We haven’t had dinner. We don’t even know what is for dinner. And you invited yourself into the house. Be glad we haven’t yelled yet.”
Mercedes gapes at him, and then looks at Finn, like he’s going to be suddenly sympathetic. The look Finn gives her in response seems to indicate he think she’s losing her mind, and he confirms that when he asks, “What did you think was gonna happen tonight? Like, why are you even over here?”
“I. I just thought that Kurt and I could talk for awhile,” Mercedes defends herself. “Just hang out.”
“And if I’d had plans other than the television?” Kurt asks.
Mercedes opens and closes her mouth a couple of times. “Well. I.”
“Look, Mercedes,” Finn say with a sigh. “This doesn’t have anything to do with you. It’s not about you. It’s not your business. If you want to hang out with Kurt just to hang out with him, that’s cool, ’cause you’re friends, right? But it’s not cool to, like, grill him or whatever. This isn’t a spy movie.”
“Also, please don’t assume I’m sitting at home waiting for someone to make plans for me,” Kurt says wearily. “Yes, after working all day, I’m less likely to go out. But I don’t think you know even what days I have off, right now.”
“Well.” Apparently it has all gotten through to Mercedes, because now she looks angry, and she stands up stiffly. “I suppose I’ll take my leave now.”
“You can stay and watch Survivor if you want, but you’re not allowed to talk,” Finn says. “Survivor is a sacred trust. There’s, like… protocols or whatever.”
“Or you can leave, and you can send me a text or a message or something when you want to hang out. Like most people do.” Kurt sighs.
“I’ll do that.” Mercedes still sounds angry, and Kurt briefly wonders who should get his texted warning: Tina or Sam? “This has been… enlightening.” With that, Mercedes heads out the front door, closing it just a little loudly.
“That was fun,” Kurt says wryly. “Didn’t you think?”
“I think,” Finn answers slow, “that I should go grab us some beers and we should put on Survivor, before I follow her and say something stupid. Stupider.”
“Could you really do something stupider than what she just did?”
“Uh, dude?”
“At this moment,” Kurt clarifies. “Legend has it that even I once did foolish, foolish things in the days of my youth.”
“You?” Finn snorts. “Never. I never listen to that legend shit anyway.”
Kurt grins and moves back to the sofa. “That’s an excellent choice on your part.”