AN: I love feedback! Anything. Seriously...anything. Even just a 'I hate your guts.'would make me happy. Spelling mistakes, grammer mistakes, plot mistakes! Anything! I would also like to dedicate this chapter to all the Kurtofsky writers out there. Hamhocklover, LucyToo, , Wewriteshit (AKA: Tessisamess and Gleeklicious), and all the others out there. This is for the pirates. I'm proud to call myself one. Enjoy!
EDIT: I just realized that Fanfiction took out my stars that I put in the story to symbolize a different time in the same day. I'm so sorry if this confused anyone. The new break is D&KD&K linebreak.
TV/Movie: Glee
Rating: M; for f-bombs, drug use/blood, and sex
Category: Hurt/Comfort, Romance, little Angst, and a smidge of Mystery.
Summary: One day, Dave meets a boy with a passion for scarfs and Dave realizes he has a passion too. This is a story about redemption and breaking the mold and falling for someone who isn't right.
Glee and the characters, Dave Karofsky and Kurt Hummel, belong to Ryan Murphey, Ian Brennan, and Brad Falchuk. I don't own anything! So don't sue.
October 27th, 2008
The rain drizzled onto the cracked and broken pavement of the garbage-filled ally. The loud pound of metal music drifted into Dave's ears. His stout, football body shook violently against the sharp wind. The dark rust color dripped onto Dave's shirt as the thunder crashed above him.
October 27th, 2012
Dave Karofsky spied a flash of green from the far corner of the bar. He turned his head closer to that light shamrock green he saw moments ago. Dave felt his mouth open into a perfect 'O'. The green was attached to a man; a beautiful man/boy. The man/boy was gently unwinding a light green scarf from his pale, swan neck atop the bar stool. His young face was raw and red from the chilly Chicago wind. David's blush flittered across his cheeks and lower neck as he realized that the boy was probably no older than sixteen. His perk nose and pretty cheek bones reveled the boy's age, making Dave's stomach crawl at the sexual thoughts he just entertained about that young boy.
"Earth to Dave!" Mark, Dave's co-worker for the night, yelled from the back. Mark's blonde head popped out of the storage room to glare at Dave. "Yo! Not a newbie anymore! Serve the costumers." Dave snapped to attention. Glaring back at Mark, Dave walked closer to the green scarf boy. "Welcome to Villain's Bar. Whatcha what?" Dave's gruff voice called out to the boy while avoiding his eyes.
"Yes…um…well, I'll just have a coke." The high trill of the boy's voice nearly made Dave question his sex. Yet, looking at his hands, Dave could tell he was, indeed, in ownership of a very male organ. Those long, slim hands were male. Yet, his nails were clipped and polished to perfection. 'So either a twink or metro.' Dave mused while securing the boy's cola. One more glance at the prim boy sitting delicately on that bar stool made Dave sure of only one thing; Green scarf boy… 'Defiantly a twink.'.
D&KD&K linebreak
For the third night in a row, Dave was stuck with closing shop. One of the reasons he hated Mark. 'Asshole never trades closings.' Dave bitched as he turned off the lights of the bar. Stepping out into the early morning wind, Dave huffed and turned up the collar of his jacket.
Dave made his slow walk to the 'L' system which would make its even slower way to his studio on East 79th. He was the proud owner of a rugged studio apartment which he couldn't afford without his roommates, Mike Harring and Wynton Smith.
Wynton Smith was a cut-throat business guru. Wynton was tolerant of Dave and Dave didn't punch Wynton in the throat. It worked for them. Mike was the peace-keeper. Mike Harring was a good friend of Dave's, with a steady pay check from the Chicago police department. Mike had helped Dave out of several sticky situations and now, they were thicker than thieves.
Mike was leaving their shared home when Dave finally shuffled in around 5 o'clock. Harring was decked out in his blue uniform, clipping on his gun by their coat rack. "Closing again, huh?" Mike's natural booming voice asked. Dave just nodded, too strung out from five days of a four-hour sleep schedule. "Hey, buddy. You gotta stop these hours. They'll be the death of you." Mike's short, stubby hand lay on Dave's thick shoulders. The dark black of his skin stood sharply against Dave's cream jacket.
"Yeah." Dave answered noncommittally. Mike nodded his head, thinking he had gotten his message across to his younger roommate. Not waiting for Mike to leave for his shift as a beat cop, Dave began striping down to his boxers. Reaching the bedroom area, Dave fell into the bed closest to him. He was asleep before he hit the mattress.
November 3rd, 2012
"Aw, Fuck!" Dave cried as he felt his elbow land hard on the concert. He hissed in pain as he removed his scrapped elbow and palm from the library steps. Dave gently picks himself up from the cold stone of the steps. He looks around for his papers and books that were flung when he fell. Dave expected to see his books and papers about; he didn't expect a boy helping him.
It was the Green Scarf Boy. Dave remembers him from last Saturday. The boy had his namesake wrapped around his neck. It lay against his dark grey pea coat. The bright November sunlight fell gently on the boy's chestnut hair. Tucked under the boy's left arm are books. They looked thick and old: they remind David of his father's old law books.
"Excuse me. I believe these are yours." The melodious voice of Green Scarf says to Dave. He looks shyly up at Green Scarf. 'My God. He's so pretty.'
"Right. Yeah." Dave chokes out. His voice and brain refuse to work under the stare of those blue eyes. 'I thought they were green.' Dave pulls himself up and brushes the invisible dirt off of his worn jeans. "Um, Thanks." Dave takes the book from the out-stretched, gloved hand.
"It takes skill to fall on only three steps." The boy flashes a sweet smile to Dave. Dave blushes. "Yeah…Yeah." Dave stutters out. The boy smiles again and nods a goodbye to Dave. 'Smart, Karofsky. You sounded like a retarded Eeyore.'
D&KD&K linebreak
Dave isn't working at the bar that Saturday. He had plans to stay at home and work on his night classes. Yet, Wynton comes home after losing a customer to a rival company; normal Wynton is asshole enough, he can't take a pissed-off Wynton. Not when he'd been rejected, yet again. And Mike wasn't even around to play 'let's cheer up, Davey Boy!'. Mike had a normal date with a normal girl. Something Dave cannot do. Because Dave is Gay.
Dave Karofsky: All-sports jock, nothing but beer, knows how to fix everything, Man's man is gay. Prissy, likes to suck dick, take it in the ass gay. 'I should've killed myself when I had the chance.' Dave's thoughts lean towards suicidal after his fifth shot. Dave needed to ingest as much alcohol as he could tonight.
'I took stupid-ass Mike's advice! "Be yourself. Go for it. Be a man" He said! DUMB!' Dave slug back the remains of his third beer of the night. "This is piss, Phil. Where the fuck do you get this stuff?" Dave berated the man on staff tonight. Phil was a nice guy and the owner of Villain's Bar. Tall with kind eyes who had hired Dave when he was down and out. Yet, tonight, Phil wasn't getting a 'thank you'. He got a rejected Dave.
"Dave. Just cause some guy doesn't know what's good for 'im, doesn't mean you take it out on my beer, man." Phil began topping off Dave's fourth beer. "Man, I'm cool with the gay thing but if every time you get shot down by some frilly, prissy guy; you get shit-face then I'm gonna get real homophobic on your ass." Even drunk Dave knew that it was an empty threat. Phil hadn't even blinked an eye when Dave blurted out his taste in the same-sex. Phil is a good guy. Better than Dave is.
"Dude. This is your last one." Dave was too drunk to argue. "Mike's gonna kill me." Phil nodded in agreement.
November 10, 2012
Dave had just finished his second job; tutoring. Dave had started tutoring high school and middle school kids who needed help in math. He was good at it. This is why he was getting a degree in teaching at night school in between two jobs.
Dave had time to waste. It was 1:30 on and his bartending job at the Villain's didn't start until five o'clock. 'Fucking lucky for me.' Dave was in such a terrible mood. He felt like punching and screaming and getting totally pissed-face. Dave felt like hiding in his apartment and never, ever coming out. He needed a fucking coffee.
Coffee shops are known for the wasting of time. Dave could splurge on a coffee. 'And a cookie.' Dave got the biggest grin at the thought of a warm cookie. Dave loved warm, gooey cookies. Like the kind his grandma used to make. That cheered him up.
He didn't notice the small man he elbowed on his way to cross the street. Dave did hear it. The thin man fell into a melted puddle of early-November snow. "Damn! I am so sorry." Dave bent forward to help the man. "I didn't even notice you. I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" Dave held the man's elbow lifting him shiftily to his feet.
"No! I am not okay! I was just pushed into a slime puddle!" Dave just noticed the green scarf that was sagging in the slush puddle. "And! You ruined my scarf!" Dave turned his head back to the man's eyes. They were a stormy grey; Anger swirled around those thunder eyes.
"You have thunder eyes." Dave pointed out to Green Scarf. The boy just raised his groomed eyebrow at Dave. Dave felt his face flush tomato. "Great. You're a crazy homeless person aren't you?" Green Scarf's chapped lips opened.
"Excuse me? What the fuck did you just say to me, ass-hat?" Green Scarf may have been beautiful and extremely fuck-able and completely under-age! But he was not allowed to diss Dave's cloths. Dave didn't have money like pretty boy. "I said, you Neanderthal, that you ruined my scarf!" His eyes narrowed at Dave. All Dave saw was red.
"Listen, Kid, this isn't fuckin' upstate New York; this is fuckin' Chicago and if you don't wanna get fucked up, you shut the fuck up when someone's fuckin' apologizing." Dave was in the boy's face now. His face was tomato for another reason now. He wanted nothing more than to punch this pretty boy in his pretty little cock-sucking face.
The boy never backed down. 'Boy has balls.' Even in his anger, Dave was still captivated by his mysterious boy. Dave had scared off men taller, bigger, and stronger than Dave, yet this tiny, little scrap of a boy stared at Dave as if he was nothing more than a bug. A very, very big bug that had arms like tree trunks and a tank for a chest, but a bug nonetheless.
"Okay. Listen, Kid, I'll give you props. You got balls. I could crush your scrawny little ass in half a second." Dave moved a little closer to the boy. Green Scarf's eyes only narrowed. Dave didn't realize the boy was only a few inches short than him or that his skin looked softer than Wynton's fancy sheets.
Dave gave a crack of his knuckles. The boy didn't back down. "Whatcha want?" Dave's breath fanned across Green Scarf's nose. Dave backed up; he saw that beautiful scarf stained and soaked with Chicago grime. 'I was that scarf.' Dave's eyes softened. 'Oh, for God's sake! I'm comparing myself to a scarf.'
"You want me to pay for the scarf or something?" Green Scarf looked warily at Dave. He scoffed at Dave's offer. "I doubt you could afford to replace this scarf." Dave rolled his eyes at the boy. "All right, ice-bitch, you mustn't be from Chicago. Chicago chicks aren't as icy as you, ice-bitch." The boy's eyes flashed in righteous anger. "I. Am. Not. A. Girl." The boy growled out.
Dave studied the boy. He looked like a picture. His bright outfits standing out against the cold, grey backdrop of Chicago remind Dave of that famous photograph who died young. Dave brought one of his pictures. He was dirt-poor and had spent his last thirty dollars on a photograph of a little roman boy.
"Okay. Sorry. I'm sorry. What can I do to make up for it?" Dave said, trying to remedy the situation. The boy just glared at Dave. "Why don't I pay for dry cleaning? Huh? How 'bout that?" Dave tries again. He barely knows the boy, yet he doesn't want to be hated by him.
Dave doesn't know why but he really wants Green Scarf's approval. Maybe it's his inner teenager chasing after the openly gay guy. 'Fuck. I thought I was past all that.' Dave whines to himself. He really doesn't want to revert to his eighteen year old self.
"Yes. You can pay for the cleaning." Green Scarf replies, his tone haughty and self-sure. "Okay. Um…you want me to pay now? …or like, ya know, later?" Dave lamely tries to keep the conversation going. He doesn't want Green Scarf to leave. He probably won't ever see the boy again. 'God, I'm so fucked!'
The boy looks thoughtful for a second. "No. Never mind. You don't need to do that. I didn't really like this scarf anyway." The boy looks down at his scarf. It's stained grey and has what looks like a cigarette butt stuck in one of its folds. Dave feels wounded.
Dave feels like he was just kicked in the balls and then punched in the head, repeatedly. "Are you sure? It looks like a nice scarf." The boy gives him an odd look. Dave blushes. He doesn't know why but he empathizes with that scarf. Being dirtied by Chicago and then rejected by pretty little gay boys is the plot of his life. 'I need a vacation. I'm sympathizing* with a scarf!'
"Do you want it?" The boy asks. He holds the scarf out. Dave just stares at the sad little scrap of fabric. Dave, against all of his good sense, nods. Green Scarf holds his namesake out to him. Dave almost cries. Something so delicate and beautiful is being handed over to him. He has to care for it. 'Goddamn it, I'm going crazy.'
"Well…take good care of it…I guess." Dave chuckles softly. The wet, dirty scarf held between his thick meaty palms. Dave looks at the boy, who can't be called Green Scarf anymore.
"I'm Dave." The boy graces him with a earth-shattering smile. "Hi. I'm Kurt."
