Fic: When You Hold A Flame (Vol 2: Track 4)
Series: When You Hold A Flame
Title: Wicked Game
Pairing,Character(s): Dave Karofsky/Kurt Hummel, Mercedes Jones
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,340
Spoilers: Specific through 2x07. Through 2x08, AU after that (Series)
Warnings: One instance of homophobic language, sexuality.
Previous Chapters: HERE
Summary: Karofsky’s timing could not have been more horrifically unfortunate.
What a wicked game to play, to make me feel this way.
What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you.
What a wicked thing to say, that you never felt this way.
What a wicked thing you do, to make me dream of you.
No, I don't wanna fall in love... (this world is always gonna break your heart) ...with you.
Since the confrontation in the stairway, Kurt hadn’t seen or heard from Karofsky apart from brief glimpses in the halls. Maybe that was it. He didn’t want Kurt to reveal his secret (he wouldn’t of course, but Karofsky didn’t know that), so he was lying low, trying to keep clear for a while. Yeah. Right. Sure. Keep dreaming.
But things were on the up and up, so in the meantime, he could hang out with Blaine and maybe get a better kiss to replace that…incident in the locker room. And besides, now he had a new project. Now that he’d found someone made of boyfriend material for himself, it was time to play matchmaker for Mercedes. He’d spoken to Anthony Rashad, one of the few football players outside of the Glee club that had actually remained on speaking terms with him since his departure from the role of kicker, and had learned that Anthony had had a thing for Mercedes since, like, the fifth grade. And he was nice and very attractive and she was bound to like him back. It was perfect. He pointed Anthony out in the cafeteria at lunch one day, and Mercedes gave him a smile and a flirty little wave, and Kurt couldn’t help the giddy wave of satisfaction that rushed through him. But of course, Mercedes being Mercedes…
“Why him?”
Kurt froze. But only for a second. “No reason,” he said. He wasn’t exactly about to reveal Anthony’s crush on her, that was a part of the unspoken Guy Code that even he knew.
“Oh, so it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s one of the five black guys at this school.”
Wait, what? Seriously? He stared at her for what was probably only a second or so but seems longer. “Uh, no, he is, ah, a wide receiver on the football team, he is very good-looking, and he is a member of the Black” oh dear “Student Union.” He gave her a thumbs up, but she persisted.
“Any non-black activities?”
Oh come on, she didn’t seriously think he’d set her up with a guy solely on the basis of race? He wouldn’t have set her up on a date with Azimio Adams, would he? Although if Azimio wasn’t such a tool they might actually be a cute couple… “I uh, don’t know, my Google search was a little…”
“I can’t take this anymore.”
Well this wasn’t going well. “Mercedes, trust me, love is just around the corner.” The words were barely out of his mouth when he heard a voice that he instantly recognized.
“S’up, homo?”
He looked up, and there was Karofsky, walking past him with his lunch tray, and oh sweet Gaga, he just winked. He. Just. Winked. And his timing could not have been more horrifically unfortunate.
Kurt couldn’t believe what he was feeling. This was wrong. This was completely wrong and he was insane and he didn’t know what was wrong with him. But that wink sent shudders to places that Dave Karofsky had no right to go. And Mercedes was talking and writing something on her giant pad of paper but Kurt didn’t even hear, didn’t even notice when she stood, he just…no. This was not going to happen. This could not be happening. He could not possibly have felt that just because Karofsky…
A girl screaming “TOTS” behind him snapped him out of his stunned reverie, and all thoughts of Karofsky were shaken from his mind. He’d have to revisit this…bizarre feeling later, and remind himself of all five billion reasons why it was completely inappropriate.
***
Someone was standing behind him, holding him, their whole body close against his. Kurt closed his eyes and relaxed into the other boy’s touch, feeling the press against his back, his shoulders, his neck. He turned around, his eyes still closed, and suddenly he was on his back, and when he opened his eyes he saw Blaine, smiling at him with that wonderful smile, leaning down to press small kisses against his neck, his throat, his chest, down and down, then his head leaned back and his eyes closed again before the sensation moved up and up again. Blaine moved on top of him and began to kiss him again, and Kurt leaned into him, kissing deeper, his fingers working their way into Blaine’s hair as Blaine’s hands gently cupped his cheeks.
Then he realized that the body pressed against him was too big to be Blaine’s. The hair curled around his fingers was too short, and the hands on his face were too large and too rough and calloused. He opened his eyes but he already knew who he was going to see.
Karofsky.
Kurt woke with a start, nearly falling out of bed before he steadied himself, and looked at the clock. 3:17 AM. He exhaled slowly, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and headed upstairs, out of his room to the kitchen for a glass of water.
It was only because of that wink today. He wasn’t used to having other boys flirt with him, in whatever creepy and misguided way, and Karofsky had gotten into his head today and it messed with his neural pathways and ruined a perfectly wonderful sex dream. That was what had happened. He grabbed a glass from the cabinet and held it under the tap, not bothering to get any ice, and took a deep drink as soon as the glass was filled to soothe his sleep-parched throat. He rubbed his eyes again with his free hand, and walked over into the living room.
In the bookcase beside the TV, he spotted a familiar binder with a floral-print fabric cover, and he pulled it out and sat down on the couch, turning the switch on the lamp beside him. A thin smile crossed his face as he opened the book to the first page. A face that (he hated to admit) he could barely remember anymore smiled back at him, a woman, with a hand on her swollen belly as she sat on this same couch surrounded by baby supplies. The page was covered with baby shower-themed stickers; his mother had always been good with scrapbooking.
He flipped through the book to the last filled pages. His seventh birthday party. These were the last pages his mom had finished before…well. He sighed as he looked at the picture in the middle. They were all sitting around the table, with the cake in the middle. His dad was behind him…his mom must have been taking the picture. He could see all his friends around the table. Mercedes on his left, Lara and Katie next to her (they’d both moved away), Jenny on the far left of the frame (she was a Cheerio now), Meredith next (she was the best player on the girl’s basketball team now, wow, she was tall even then). But there was the reason he’d opened the book. On his right…they were looking straight at each other.
He’d called Karofsky Davey, back then.
He ran his fingers over the picture, thinking about what used to be. What might have been, in another world. A world where Dave had never stopped being his friend. A world where Dave had come to his eighth birthday party, and his ninth, and every year after that. A world where Dave had never thrown a slushy in his face, or pushed him into a locker. A world where Dave had come out to him with words, instead of with a kiss taken against his will. But that world didn’t exist. With a sigh he closed the book and put it back on the shelf, grabbed his glass of water and headed back down the stairs into his bedroom.
Love was just around the corner, he was certain of that.
But it was not going to be found in Dave Karofsky.
He was certain of that as well.
Title: Wicked Game
Pairing,Character(s): Dave Karofsky/Kurt Hummel, Mercedes Jones
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,340
Spoilers: Specific through 2x07. Through 2x08, AU after that (Series)
Warnings: One instance of homophobic language, sexuality.
Previous Chapters: HERE
Summary: Karofsky’s timing could not have been more horrifically unfortunate.
What a wicked game to play, to make me feel this way.
What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you.
What a wicked thing to say, that you never felt this way.
What a wicked thing you do, to make me dream of you.
No, I don't wanna fall in love... (this world is always gonna break your heart) ...with you.
Since the confrontation in the stairway, Kurt hadn’t seen or heard from Karofsky apart from brief glimpses in the halls. Maybe that was it. He didn’t want Kurt to reveal his secret (he wouldn’t of course, but Karofsky didn’t know that), so he was lying low, trying to keep clear for a while. Yeah. Right. Sure. Keep dreaming.
But things were on the up and up, so in the meantime, he could hang out with Blaine and maybe get a better kiss to replace that…incident in the locker room. And besides, now he had a new project. Now that he’d found someone made of boyfriend material for himself, it was time to play matchmaker for Mercedes. He’d spoken to Anthony Rashad, one of the few football players outside of the Glee club that had actually remained on speaking terms with him since his departure from the role of kicker, and had learned that Anthony had had a thing for Mercedes since, like, the fifth grade. And he was nice and very attractive and she was bound to like him back. It was perfect. He pointed Anthony out in the cafeteria at lunch one day, and Mercedes gave him a smile and a flirty little wave, and Kurt couldn’t help the giddy wave of satisfaction that rushed through him. But of course, Mercedes being Mercedes…
“Why him?”
Kurt froze. But only for a second. “No reason,” he said. He wasn’t exactly about to reveal Anthony’s crush on her, that was a part of the unspoken Guy Code that even he knew.
“Oh, so it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s one of the five black guys at this school.”
Wait, what? Seriously? He stared at her for what was probably only a second or so but seems longer. “Uh, no, he is, ah, a wide receiver on the football team, he is very good-looking, and he is a member of the Black” oh dear “Student Union.” He gave her a thumbs up, but she persisted.
“Any non-black activities?”
Oh come on, she didn’t seriously think he’d set her up with a guy solely on the basis of race? He wouldn’t have set her up on a date with Azimio Adams, would he? Although if Azimio wasn’t such a tool they might actually be a cute couple… “I uh, don’t know, my Google search was a little…”
“I can’t take this anymore.”
Well this wasn’t going well. “Mercedes, trust me, love is just around the corner.” The words were barely out of his mouth when he heard a voice that he instantly recognized.
“S’up, homo?”
He looked up, and there was Karofsky, walking past him with his lunch tray, and oh sweet Gaga, he just winked. He. Just. Winked. And his timing could not have been more horrifically unfortunate.
Kurt couldn’t believe what he was feeling. This was wrong. This was completely wrong and he was insane and he didn’t know what was wrong with him. But that wink sent shudders to places that Dave Karofsky had no right to go. And Mercedes was talking and writing something on her giant pad of paper but Kurt didn’t even hear, didn’t even notice when she stood, he just…no. This was not going to happen. This could not be happening. He could not possibly have felt that just because Karofsky…
A girl screaming “TOTS” behind him snapped him out of his stunned reverie, and all thoughts of Karofsky were shaken from his mind. He’d have to revisit this…bizarre feeling later, and remind himself of all five billion reasons why it was completely inappropriate.
***
Someone was standing behind him, holding him, their whole body close against his. Kurt closed his eyes and relaxed into the other boy’s touch, feeling the press against his back, his shoulders, his neck. He turned around, his eyes still closed, and suddenly he was on his back, and when he opened his eyes he saw Blaine, smiling at him with that wonderful smile, leaning down to press small kisses against his neck, his throat, his chest, down and down, then his head leaned back and his eyes closed again before the sensation moved up and up again. Blaine moved on top of him and began to kiss him again, and Kurt leaned into him, kissing deeper, his fingers working their way into Blaine’s hair as Blaine’s hands gently cupped his cheeks.
Then he realized that the body pressed against him was too big to be Blaine’s. The hair curled around his fingers was too short, and the hands on his face were too large and too rough and calloused. He opened his eyes but he already knew who he was going to see.
Karofsky.
Kurt woke with a start, nearly falling out of bed before he steadied himself, and looked at the clock. 3:17 AM. He exhaled slowly, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and headed upstairs, out of his room to the kitchen for a glass of water.
It was only because of that wink today. He wasn’t used to having other boys flirt with him, in whatever creepy and misguided way, and Karofsky had gotten into his head today and it messed with his neural pathways and ruined a perfectly wonderful sex dream. That was what had happened. He grabbed a glass from the cabinet and held it under the tap, not bothering to get any ice, and took a deep drink as soon as the glass was filled to soothe his sleep-parched throat. He rubbed his eyes again with his free hand, and walked over into the living room.
In the bookcase beside the TV, he spotted a familiar binder with a floral-print fabric cover, and he pulled it out and sat down on the couch, turning the switch on the lamp beside him. A thin smile crossed his face as he opened the book to the first page. A face that (he hated to admit) he could barely remember anymore smiled back at him, a woman, with a hand on her swollen belly as she sat on this same couch surrounded by baby supplies. The page was covered with baby shower-themed stickers; his mother had always been good with scrapbooking.
He flipped through the book to the last filled pages. His seventh birthday party. These were the last pages his mom had finished before…well. He sighed as he looked at the picture in the middle. They were all sitting around the table, with the cake in the middle. His dad was behind him…his mom must have been taking the picture. He could see all his friends around the table. Mercedes on his left, Lara and Katie next to her (they’d both moved away), Jenny on the far left of the frame (she was a Cheerio now), Meredith next (she was the best player on the girl’s basketball team now, wow, she was tall even then). But there was the reason he’d opened the book. On his right…they were looking straight at each other.
He’d called Karofsky Davey, back then.
He ran his fingers over the picture, thinking about what used to be. What might have been, in another world. A world where Dave had never stopped being his friend. A world where Dave had come to his eighth birthday party, and his ninth, and every year after that. A world where Dave had never thrown a slushy in his face, or pushed him into a locker. A world where Dave had come out to him with words, instead of with a kiss taken against his will. But that world didn’t exist. With a sigh he closed the book and put it back on the shelf, grabbed his glass of water and headed back down the stairs into his bedroom.
Love was just around the corner, he was certain of that.
But it was not going to be found in Dave Karofsky.
He was certain of that as well.