So I have absolutely no idea where the hell any of this came from. I've never written anything in the Glee universe before. Hell, I've never written guy/guy before. I 'blame' TheFirstMrsHummel. Her stuff is genius. Pure genius. Check it out y'all.
Please realize that this is entirely AU and it's still a work in progress. I don't own the Rangers, Glee or anything you recognize. Any mistakes or grammatical errors are my own. If you have any ideas or contributions please feel free to toss 'em my way. Reviews are cupcakes and puppies 3 Thanks for giving this a look!
Kurt is dragged to a hockey game by his roommate and shockingly discovers his former bully is now a professional tormenter. Dave plays for the New York Rangers. A series of awkward encounters and fate ensures that their paths cross.
In. Out. In. Out.
Dave's deep breaths are interrupted by the loud chatter of the locker room. He looks up as his teammate calls his name, "Yo Karofsky. I know you're knee deep in some meditation shit but think you can pull your head out of your ass long enough to listen to the lines?"
Rolling his eyes he gives Mike the bird and quips, "Sure thing princess." Mike responds with his own one finger salute and Dave turns to focus on the coach reading the lines for the game.
No surprises are revealed as coach recites the lineup. But he still gets that rush when his jersey number is said aloud. Every game. Every day. It's a chance to prove to himself that he made it. That he shook off small town Lima and the stereotypes that came with it.
He tightened his laces and shrugged on his warm up jersey as the guys filed out of the locker room and on to the ice. He never failed to take a moment to revel in the Garden in all its glory. Playing here was a fucking dream come true.
Kurt Hummel was not impressed. Not one fucking bit. And considering his distaste for swearing, that said a lot. A whole fucking lot.
He glared at the petite woman seated next to him with pure hatred.
"A hockey game? Are you kidding me? I think I would rather hawk my Louboutins on the street. Thank you very much."
Kipton smiled brightly, her southern charm oozing from every pore, "Thought you wanted to try something new darlin'?"
Kurt huffed in his seat, "Organized sports aren't exactly what I had in mind."
"One game. And I'll never ask you for anything ever again." Her wide brown eyes were impossible to resist and Kurt felt his resolve crumble.
Crossing his arms childishly, he stuck his tongue out at Kipton, "Fine. I'll go. But don't expect me to be happy about it."
Kipton clapped her hands excitedly and whipped her phone out to place a call.
Kurt ignored her for the most part and focused on not stomping around the room like he wanted to. When he mentioned to his roommate that he wanted to try something new, he was thinking more along the lines of a different show or musical. Not a bunch of Neanderthals skating in circles.
He was pulled from his musings by his ecstatic roommate, "Game starts in an hour. Let's get a move on pretty lady!" Kurt huffed dramatically and smiled, "Only cause you called me pretty."
Kipton rolled her eyes and gave Kurt a mischievous grin, "There'll be plenty of hot sweaty boys for us to ogle."
Kurt frowned slightly, "Sweaty? No thanks. But I'm definitely counting on hot."
His roommate grinned widely and shoved him playfully. "Get a move on. You have 10 minutes mister."
"Bossy, bossy, bossy. It's easy to tell you were the older sister."
Kipton flipped Kurt off with a smile, "Damn right."
20 minutes later the duo was pounding the pavement towards Madison Square Garden as Kipton chattered excitedly about the game. Kurt was saved from actually having to maintain a conversation due to the brisk pace and volume of the city he had come to love.
Kipton squeezed his hand and dragged him towards a will call ticket booth, "Kipton Taylor. I should have two tickets on reserve." Her exuberant attitude was infectious and Kurt couldn't help but feel a shiver of excitement run through his body. He did say he was going to try branch out, be more adventurous and try something different. And hell, if this wasn't different he didn't know what was.
Dave took in a deep breath and released it as soon as he felt his stakes hit the ice. This was where he was at peace, so to speak. Despite the 17,000 screaming fans and the roar of the crowd, he was in his element.
Warm ups gave him the time he needed to get his head in the right place and focused on the game. He could feel the burn in his leg muscles as he skated a few drills and juggled the puck a bit.
Dave felt the spray of ice as Mike made a show of skating up next to him. He shoved his line mate and gestured to the visiting team, "You ready to kick some ass?"
Mike nods with a grin on his face, "Fuck yeah princess."
Dave rolls his eyes and grins back, "Asshat."
Mike bats his eyes playfully. "You love me? Don't you Davey?"
Laughing, they follow their teammates back to the locker room to change into their game jerseys and prepare for any last minute adjustments.
After the standard locker room pep talk it's time to hit the ice. Dave is so ready. He lives for this moment. All the guys tap the Rangers logo with their stick for good luck before gathering in the hallway. The stadium practically shakes when the loud voice booms over the speakers, "And welcome your home team, the NEW YORK RANGERS."
The crowd's volume intensifies as his team takes the ice. He feels the adrenaline coursing through his body. The rush. The hype. This is what he loves.
Kurt looks around wide eyed at the variety of people occupying Madison Square Garden for the game. He hates to admit that he's actually very intrigued right now. He doesn't know the first thing about hockey but he does love the atmosphere of the arena when the team steps on to the ice.
Kipton is hooting and hollering with the best of them and Kurt has never seen this side of her. It's a loud side, and a fun one. She has the biggest grin on her face and suddenly he's very glad that he agreed …well sort of… to come.
He turns to his roommate with a shout, "You're gonna have to explain all this to me. Cause I don't know a single thing about hockey."
Kipton practically beams, "Deal."
The announcer's voice quiets the crowd for a brief moment, "and now your starting line ups..." Kurt tunes him out and chooses instead to focus on the ridiculously sexy men on the ice. He decides that he should have started paying attention to hockey a long time ago. A very long time ago.
He takes the time to appreciate the physical size of both teams. Are hockey players required to be tall? Cause they seem huge! Kurt mentally facepalms himself when he realizes that it probably has to do with the skates.
Kipton's ear splitting scream startles him and he looks at her in shock, "Did someone score?!" She laughs and blushes slightly, "No. They haven't even dropped the puck yet, silly." Kurt looks at her with a deadpan expression, "So? The earth shattering shriek was just for fun?"
She grins and shoves Kurt's shoulder, "Wiseass. That was for Marc Staal. Rangers alternate captain, bonafied hottie and currently the star of about 23 of my sexual fantasies."
Kurt shudders, "Okay wow. TMI, Kip. Way, way too much information."
Kipton laughs gleefully and sticks her tongue out, "Just wait til you see him. Then he'll be in all 23 of your fantasies too."
Kurt laughs, "You do have excellent taste in men, my dear."
Kipton grins cheekily, "But of course." Their seats are a mere six rows behind the Rangers bench and she gestures, "See any hotties you'd like to do entirely sinful things with?"
Kurt shrugs, "Can't say the thought hasn't crossed my mind but I can't really see any faces. Besides, all of them are probably married to their trophy wives with their 2.4 kids, German Shepard and white picket fence."
Kipton laughs, "Actually quite a few of the guys on the roster are single. And I know one is openly gay."
Kurt chokes on the sip of water he had just taken and looks at his roommate in surprise, "Seriously?! Who!"
Kipton frowns, "Fuck! What the hell was his name. It's weird. But not like Russian weird. Just like hard to remember. Karnorosky? No." She tries again, "Kroszinke?" Giving up, she scans the ice quickly and thrusts a finger in one of the player's direction. "Him! Karofsky!"
Kurt's neck snaps up so quickly he's surprised his head didn't detach from his body. He follows the direction of Kipton's finger and feels his heart jump into his throat as he struggles to see the face of the man with KAROFSKY emblazoned on the back of his shirt. Jersey? Shirsey? What the fuck ever it was called.
He still can't get a good look and he turns to Kipton in a panic, "Do you have a program thingy? With like faces and names?"
Kipton shakes her head and looks puzzled, "No. Why?"
Kurt nearly bites a hole through his lip, "No reason." He scans their surroundings looking for someone who might have purchased a program. He spots a young woman holding a guide. He grabs her attention and points to the program, "Do you mind if I look at that for a quick second?" She smiles and hands him the program and Kurt quickly thumbs to the Rangers roster, scanning for the name and face he so desperately doesn't want to see.
And yet, there it is.
David Karofsky. Defenseman. Number 16. 200 lbs. 6, 2". Hometown: Lima, Ohio. Drafted …what the hell does that mean… 1st round, 28th overall …seriously, like another language… NY Rangers.
He returns the program wordlessly and can feel the heat from Kipton's gaze.
"Kurt?" She questions softly. But before he can respond the arena erupts and he gathers that the game has started. …It also helps that the announcer dude just said "and we're underway here at Madison Square Garden, but that's beside the point…
He gives her a bright smile and nudges her shoulder, "I'll explain at halftime." Kipton fights back laughter, "There's uhm, three periods in hockey. The breaks are called intermissions."
Kurt eyes light up, "Like in a performance!"
Kipton nods, "Exactly! Hockey lesson one complete. You'll be a pro in no time baby."
Kurt laughs, "'Yeah, we'll see about that. Now I'll shut up and let you enjoy the game."
Kipton rolled her eyes, "Hell no. Yelling and screaming. That's all part of it!"
Kurt grins mischievously, "I'm definitely good at yelling and screaming."
Kipton smiles but her attention shifts to the game and Kurt's quickly follows. And holy Gaga he cannot believe he is thinking this but sweet Dior almighty is hockey fascinating. He has no idea what is going on but the way these guys move is breathtaking. And he's pretty sure that word hasn't ever been used to describe the sport. Until now.
Kurt does his absolute best to avoid looking at Karofsky. He really does. But for some reason every time the man steps on to the ice his eyes follow every move he makes. And it's kinda hard because they move so dang fast. Kurt can't actually believe what he's seeing. He's still trying to grasp the fact that Dave is openly gay. And a professional athlete. And looking damn good.
He shakes his head, trying to ignore that last thought that just flashed through his mind. This was the boy who tormented him. Who made his life a living hell. Stole his first kiss and took so much more from him.
Kurt is grateful for the sudden burst of noise that shakes him from his thoughts. He looks at Kipton, bewildered, "We scored!" He grins and exchanges a mistimed high five with his roommate. They laugh and go for it again, this time connecting.
The rest of the first period …point for Hummel, look at that hockey language… is pretty uneventful. As the players leave the ice Kurt finds his gaze drawn to Karofsky until he's out of sight.
Kipton turns to him expectantly, "So drama mama what was with the minor meltdown earlier?" Kurt laughs and tries to shrug off her intense stare, "Oh uhm. That. How about we talk about it when we get home?" He hopes it will satisfy the petite blonde.
It doesn't.
She clears her throat and indicates the giant screen a hanging from the rafters with a countdown clock on it. "We've got time sugar."
Kurt grimaces, "Okay. I'll give you the short version and then we can analyze the hell out of it later. "
Kipton nods, seemingly satisfied with Kurt's response.
"So Karofsky, right? I uhm, sorta kinda know him." Kipton's eyes shine excitedly, "OHMYGOD. Can we meet the team?!"
Kurt sighs, "And not in a good way." At Kipton's puzzled look, he continues, "We went to high school together. He made my life a living hell. Threw slushies on me, tossed me in dumpsters, shoved me against lockers, the list goes on."
Kipton's expression is transformed from awe to rage, "THAT MOTHERFUCKING ASSHOLE." Luckily for her …and Kurt… it's a hockey game. So that's probably one of the nicer things said throughout the course of the night.
Kurt grabs her arm, "Please. Just don't worry about it right now. I'll explain more later." Kipton is silent but she looks at Kurt with tears in her eyes, "I'm sorry. But I have absolutely no tolerance for ignorant pricks who think they can judge people because they're different."
Kurt gives her a small smile, "I know. There's still more to the story but let's finish the game and we can go home and cry and yell and scream and eat our weight in mint chocolate chip ice cream."
Kipton grins, traces of her outburst gone, "Sounds like a plan to me sugar."
Minutes later the players take the ice and the second period begins. Once again Kurt finds himself watching every move Karofsky makes. Literally. Kurt even watches him while he's on the bench. How he interacts with his teammates and coaches.
Kurt is startled to find that his former bully seems to be more of a listener than a talker. Rarely does he seem to be the one making plays or whatever it is that hockey players do.
Kurt is relieved when the game is finally over. He's emotionally exhausted. And much to Kipton's joy the Rangers managed to snag the win. He doesn't have a clue what the score was …but he could tell you how many times Karofsky took a drink from his water bottle in the third period if you were interested… And he knows Kipton is happy about the victory, so by default he's happy too.
They walk back to their apartment slowly. Kurt can feel a massive headache coming on; both from the loud atmosphere and his racing thoughts.
He follows Kipton into their apartment and moments later she turns, "Story time?" Kurt gives her a small smile, he doesn't really wanna talk about it right now, but he promised and maybe saying things out loud will help him.
"Sure thing Kip. I'm gonna go change though. Be right back."
Kurt retreats to his room to wrestle his skinny jeans off and slip into some yoga pants. He'll be the first to admit that he'd never be caught dead in yogas in public but dear Gaga they are comfy.
He pads softly into the living room, his eyes lighting up when he spots the ginormous serving of mint chocolate chip ice cream with his name on it. Kipton is snuggled under a blanket currently devouring her own bowl of the delicious concoction.
Kurt joins her on the couch and she gives him a wide smile which Kurt returns. Deciding its best to get it over with, Kurt begins, "When I was in high school David Karofsky made it his personal mission to make my life a living hell."
Dave is seriously considering ditching the guys and heading straight home. His line mate and best friend sees the pensive look on his face and calls him out, "You so much as think about blowing us off tonight and I'm putting itching powder in your cup for the next game."
Dave winces and holds a hand over his groin protectively, "Don't get your panties in a wad, I'm not gonna bail on you guys."
Mike grins, "Come on princess, let's go find a twink for you to fuck into kingdom come."
Dave chokes on the swig of water he'd just taken, "Classy bro. Classy."
Mike adjusts his tie, brushes off a fake speck of dirt and winks at Dave, "Always classy, never trashy."
Grabbing his bag, Dave swings it up on his shoulder as he follows Mike out of the locker room and to the player's lot. The valet brings his truck around, quickly followed by Mike's flashy sports car. Dave tosses his bag in the back and hollers to Mike, "See you there bro."
Mike nods and grins, revving his engine before flooring it out of the lot. Dave shakes his head and smiles at the valets, "Have a good night guys."
Kurt relives every painful memory from high school as he fills Kipton in on his past. Her eyes are heavy with unshed tears and Kurt's semi thankful that she's managed to refrain from the waterworks. He's sure if she starts bawling he'll be quick to follow.
Kipton suddenly embraces him in a fierce hug, and he's powerless to stop the few tears that escape from the corner of his eyes. She smiles sadly, "I'm sorry."
Kurt shrugs, "It took me a while, but I'm over it. We were just kids, Kip. And even though the things he did were downright shitty, a lot of it made sense."
Kipton shakes her head, "Still doesn't make it okay."
Kurt smiles, "I'm over it honey, just seeing him tonight brought up a lot of memories that I'd managed to shove down deep."
Kipton nods her head, "I'm sure. And sorry, for uh, kinda being the cause of all that."
Laughing, Kurt gives his roommate a squeeze, "Actually, and I'll deny I said this if anyone asks, I had a lot of fun. Who knew watching sweaty boys skate around could be so entertaining. I'd even go again if I was 'forced'."
Kipton's eyes are wide with excitement, "OHMYGOSH REALLY?"
Kurt pushes her away as he cups his hands over his ears, cringing at her loud tone. "Jesus Kipton. I'd like to keep my hearing, thank you very much."
She smiles widely and tugs at Kurt's hand, "C'mon let's go grab a few drinks and dance with some random hot guys."
Kurt shakes his head, "I think I'm content to stay in for the night." He grabs the empty bowls and heads towards the sink, depositing them, making a mental note to wash them later.
Kipton stands up, hands on her slim hips, "I'm not taking no for an answer, Kurt. Don't make me beg."
Kurt sighs and he knows that all five foot one of his roommate won't take no for an answer so he turns to face her, "Okay fine, but I'm not staying out late. And we both need to clean up and change."
Kipton looks at him with a smirk, happy that she's gotten her way for the second time tonight. "Well duh, how're we supposed to catch some hotties if we both look like we've been watching Nicholas Sparks movies?"
Kurt giggles, "You're such a dork."
Kipton grins and pushes him in the direction of his bedroom, "C'mon sug, you've got 45 minutes."
Kurt's eyes widen comically, "Only 45 minutes?!"
Poking her tongue out at Kurt, Kipton glances to an imaginary watch on her wrist, "44 minutes now hot shot."
Kurt emits an unmanly squeak and races to his bathroom, muttering curses at his tiny roommate the entire way.
I'm ridiculously terrified to post this quite honestly. Hopefully at least one person will enjoy it. Lol. If you've made it down to the end (and actually read it) I thank you, oh so very much! Please review and let me know what you think. :)
xx
- A