“Hey, who the fuck’s this dude?” Azimio asks pointblank, jabbing a finger at a prone Blaine sleeping on Dave’s bed. A full four-hour rehearsal with Warbalers had completely drained him, but not enough to deter him from driving the forty minutes from Dalton to Dave’s house only to crash upon arrival.
Idiot. Dave thinks, as he hauled Blaine’s body upstairs. His poor mother might have a heart attack if he had simply left Blaine there practically comatose on the living room rug.
Now, he’s cursing himself for completely forgetting that Az was coming over for xbox night, now trapped with the inevitable explanation of why there’s a private school douchebag looking rich boy lying on his bed with a Green Bay Packers blanket wrapped nicely around him.
“Did you find him walking home all alone, crowbarred him, and take all his money and need me to help you dig a ditch?”
Dave looks up, and Az simply shrugs, “It’s what I carry a shovel in my truck for, dude,” he explains, sitting down in Dave’s beanbag chair and grasping for a controller, flicking on the console and Dave’s second hand tv. In a surprising display of gentlemanliness, he evens mutes the sound as he boots up Black Ops, to which Dave finally shuts down his laptop and wheels his chair over next to Az and picks up the other controller.
“You like him?”
Dave froze, but through some auto reflex, continued to mash the buttons in the correct order. What to do, what to do? Az is being extremely vague for a reason, to let him deny straight out, fuck, he can even go back to the whole ditch digging business.
“Yeah,” he manages to force out. He has more to say, but it dies before it even gets to his throat.
“Just saying, if you’re going to be a fairy for this dude, might as well milk it for all its worth: tell him you need a 360 for your birthday.”
“But I don’t need one,” Dave gestures at the screen.
“Not for you, for me, you dick.”
“Fuck you, dude,” Dave grunts, trying to keep from grinning. It seems that Az sort of knew all along in the first place.
Later on, Blaine semi-wakes up, blindly gropes for a controller and kills both of them in less than a minute with his face in the pillow, before rolling away, snoring.
“I’mma kill that fucker.” Az growls, staring at his now tarnished high score.