Chapter 1 Last straw, first taste
It's not the first time Kurt gets pushed against the lockers.
Not by a long shot.
In fact, hardly a day goes by without him being assaulted, one way or another.
On a good day he only has to put up with the usual verbal abuse – being called a freak, a fag, or something along these lines – but those days are kinda rare.
More often than not he has to change his clothes, sometimes even twice a day. Apparently throwing slushies in people's faces is hilarious. Well, at least it is in the eyes of the jock squad. Every member of the Glee club would beg to differ. Considering they are the preferred targets, they get attacked a lot, with Kurt ranking first. Not that he's ever stooped so low as to actually compile statistics, because that would just be pitiful. But he is pretty sure he would be on top of that list.
But as nasty and degrading as it is, not to mention expensive, given the number of times he has to throw away clothes because they are simply unsalvageable, Kurt prefers being soiled over getting attacked physically.
Humiliation he can deal with, but not the pain that comes with getting pushed against hard surfaces. Sometimes he wonders if the bruises on his back will ever heal completely.
But today something is … different.
Kurt can't quite place a finger on what it is.
It isn't his birthday – that was two weeks ago. It isn't Friday either. Fridays are great, usually easier to endure. Everybody is excited, busy making plans for the weekend. Especially the jocks. They are far too occupied to care about anything else. And sometimes they even forget their favorite scapegoat. Sometimes.
No, unfortunately today is only Tuesday, which means three more days to go before he will be able to take a breath.
When he wakes up in the morning Kurt can tell something is in the air. That something is about to happen. He can't tell if it's going to be good or bad, but certainly something huge, maybe even life-altering.
Don't misunderstand. Kurt is no psychic. That would be great, because that way he could avoid being slushied or getting thrown into the dumpster, simply by taking a different path each and every time he gets a premonition.
Sadly, he isn't that lucky. True, he is gifted with an incredible voice and an awesome sense for everything fashion, and he is a great cook too, but other than that he is nothing special.
Instead of his usual bowl of cereal and fruits, Kurt only has a cup of chamomile tea for breakfast, feeling way too queasy to eat. Actually, he feels like he is coming down with something. He is running a slight temperature, and his skin is prickling, like it is too tight or something. But even though he isn't at the top of his game, he still decides to go to school. If the constant bullying taught him anything, it's to never give in, to never let anyone see how much the constant torment is actually bothering him, to show no sign of weakness, no matter what.
And besides, it isn't like he is going to collapse at any moment. He is just nervous, or something.
Kurt makes it through the first two classes without incident. Which makes him that much more uneasy. The nagging feeling at the back of his neck gets stronger by the minute, slowly but surely starting to freak him out. He feels dizzy. But he pushes through the sensation, doing his best to ignore it. And since he isn't the type to believe in superstition, he chalks it up to just being hungry. Skipping breakfast isn't a good thing, he knows that, low blood sugar and all that.
But the mere thought of food makes his stomach turn. He makes a silent vow to eat a bowl of soup once he gets home, maybe munch on a few crackers too, and if things still don't improve, he'd go to the doctor the next day. But for the moment he just tries to make it through the day, preferably in one piece.
As a rule, Kurt always pays attention to his surroundings, especially when he is in school. This way he sometimes even accomplishes the impossible. To not get hit, or at least not directly in the face.
But today Kurt is way too preoccupied with himself to really notice anything going on around him. A huge mistake as it turns out. Because when David Karofsky shoves him against the lockers, he is completely blindsided. Unable to brace himself for the impact, Kurt stumbles and falls gracelessly to the ground, hitting his knee in the process.
If this was any other day he'd just take the abuse lying down, without reciprocating in any shape or form. Something Kurt isn't proud of, but what other choice does he have? So what if he always has a snide comeback ready on his tongue? What good would it do him to voice them out loud? It would only result in payback, probably more violence. And that's something he wants to avoid at all costs.
'Better lay low than make things worse.'
It isn't a great motto, sure, but it's the one working for Kurt. Of course, he is fed-up with all the abuse. Of course, he wants it to stop. But what is he supposed to do? Fight back? That's no option for him, at least not a smart one. Because let's face it, physically speaking, he is no match for Karofsky or any of his cronies. But more importantly he is a pacifist, through and through. He hates violence, prefers to avoid confrontations at all costs and rarely ever uses crude language.
But then again, for some reason things are different today and therefore the same rules don't apply.
When Kurt's back hit the hard edge of the padlock something inside him just snaps. Like a cord being pulled too tight, more than one threat finally surrendering under the pressure, tearing apart, and thus leaving the whole string unstable.
A voice in the back of his head urges him to just let it go, to shake it off and walk the other way. Kurt knows this voice well. In fact, he is very familiar with it. And usually that voice is more persuasive and much louder, but not today. Today it's drowned out by another. That one practically screams at him to show some courage, to take action and stand up to his aggressor. It's confident and relentless, and absolutely impossible to ignore.
Not even thinking twice about the consequences, Kurt picks himself up and runs after the jock, completely ignoring the pain in his knee. He catches up with Karofsky in the boys' locker room. Uncharacteristically, he allows the door to fall shut behind him, effectively trapping himself with the jock in the empty room.
Without preamble Kurt cuts to the chase.
"What the hell is your problem?" He yells. His voice is shaking with emotion. It is mostly anger, but there is something else underneath, something he cannot even begin to describe. The only thing Kurt knows for sure was that he won't stand down, not this time, not ever again. He finally has it with Karofsky and his Neanderthal behavior. He wants answers. And he is going get them, one way or another.
Karofsky turns around, shock written all over his face. It's obvious that he didn't expect a reaction, especially not this one, being confronted head-on by his favorite prey. But even though he isn't prepared, he manages to recover quickly.
"You mean, other than you following me in here?" The jock sneers. "The girls' room is two doors down."
"Stop calling me a girl." Kurt retorts heatedly, stepping further into the room. "Just because I dress differently, and happen to love singing and dancing, doesn't mean I'm not a guy. Believe me, last time I checked I have all the necessary equipment that makes a man."
Karofsky blushes at the blatant innuendo, trying to cover it with another taunt. "Could have fooled me."
"Oh, really? You need me to prove it to you, is that it?" Kurt counters, smiling cheekily. He closes the remaining distance between them, stopping right in front of the jock.
He truly has no idea what has gotten into him all of the sudden. But whatever it is, Kurt can't say that he doesn't like it. In fact, he is absolutely enjoying this. Making the jock squirm in obvious discomfort gives him a strange sense of power.
"Don't come any closer." Karofsky warns, visibly struggling to keep his usual high and mighty composure. "Unless … unless you want to get really familiar with the fury."
"The fury? What's that?" Kurt inquires innocently, cocking his head. Of course, he already knows the answer. It's pretty obvious by the way Karofsky is clenching and unclenching his right fist. "You want to hit me? Is that really what you want?"
"Don't tempt me!"
"Oh, come on, Karofsky. If you really wanted to hit me, you would have done it by now." Kurt points out.
He knows he is playing with fire, but he is not afraid of getting burned. Even though he is practically goading him, Kurt is certain that Karofsky won't hit him. A shove here and there is one thing, but a black eye or a split lip is quite another. Much harder to hide, nearly impossible to explain away, and it would probably result in a suspension. And that is something the jock won't risk. Not with the championship starting in a few weeks.
Kurt is also certain that if Karofsky actually decided to hit him anywhere, it would be in the mouth. Because for some inexplicable reason the jock's eyes keep returning to his lips, like he is mesmerized with them, or something.
Suddenly feeling devious, and perhaps a little crazy, Kurt lowers his voice to a husky, almost flirtatious timbre. "Seeing something you like?"
"Stop that!"
"Make me!"
He doesn't mean it, not really, but Karofsky certainly sees it as an open invitation to act. All of the sudden Kurt finds himself pressed against one of the lockers. And before he can complain about the harsh treatment, Karofsky has his head cradled in his huge, sweaty paws, capturing his lips in a clumsy kiss.
Kurt is beyond shocked. He feels immobilized, trapped, and hot all over again. But not the good kind of hot, where you feel all eager and compliant, weak in the knees. The one that makes you go all melty inside. No, it's the complete opposite.
Well, more or less.
He doesn't enjoy the kiss. That's for sure. But he doesn't fight back either. True, he may not stand a chance against Karofsky, but he could at least have tried, right? But he doesn't. And he can't explain why. In fact, for some reason he can't even think straight, like his instincts, or something, have complete control over his body and mind.
Even though he knows that something huge is about to happen, he is still caught off guard when it does.
Without warning the weird feeling in his gut reaches its peak, and just like that, Kurt loses all control. He grabs hold of Karofsky's head, holding him firmly in place. Then he parts his lips, and simply breathes in.
The first thing Kurt experiences is relief, almost like he has been waiting for this to happen for a very long time. Which isn't the case. Well, not really. Sure, he has been wondering what it would be like. But he certainly hasn't been dreaming of kissing the guy who is making his school life a living hell. Yes, he is lonely, but he is not that desperate. But still, he can't deny the fact that part of him is enjoying this. Because a moment later he feels something that can only be described as bliss, quickly followed by a strong wave of satisfaction, almost like he has been starving for weeks and he finally found something to appease his hunger.
Everything feels so right, and yet at the same time all wrong. Kurt can tell that his body and mind are struggling with each other, one trying to gain the upper hand over the other. He is trying to sort out his thoughts, trying to make sense of his actions and his emotions, but he simply can't concentrate. His mind seems to jump from one thought to another, never lingering long enough to give him a chance to get his head around.
In the end it doesn't matter, because all of the sudden everything stops. The kiss, Kurt's turmoil of confusing emotions and Karofsky's breathing. The jock loses his footing and slumps down, landing on the floor in a heap, just lying there, unmoving.
Still dazed from the whole kissing ordeal, Kurt looks down, gaping at seemingly lifeless body.
"Oh God, what have I done?" He cries.
Sure, he still has no idea what just happened, but deep down Kurt knows he is responsible for Karofsky's condition. For once not caring about his precious clothes, he kneels on the ground. He reaches out, his hands hovering at first, trembling like crazy. He isn't sure if he is allowed to touch, not after what just happened. But his need to make sure that Karofsky is still alive wins out. He carefully rolls the limp body over and immediately checks for vital signs, sighing with relief when he finds a slow, but steady pulse. Karofsky is out cold, though. His skin is a bit clammy and looks paler than usual, but otherwise he seems fine. Unconscious, but fine. Well, maybe not fine, but at least alive.
Before he can come up with a plan to rectify the situation, Coach Beiste enters the locker room. She doesn't bother to knock, simply barges in. For a second Kurt wonders if she does that while the football players are changing into their gear, but he doubts that's the case. True, she is a bit rough around the edges, but unlike Sue Sylvester she isn't rude on purpose.
"What happened here?" Coach Beiste asks. There is no accusation in her voice, only worry.
Kurt doesn't want to lie, least of all to her. Ever since she started working at McKinley, she has been nothing but kind to him. And the jocks don't try anything whenever she is around. Too bad, she can't always be his saving grace, but maybe one more time. But how can he tell her the truth, when he has no idea what the truth is?
"He … he just fell." Kurt stammers.
Coach Beiste frowns. Kurt can tell that she has questions about the circumstances behind Karofsky's sudden collapse but she doesn't voice them. Instead she moves next to Kurt.
"Did he hit his head?" She asks, checking Karofsky's pulse. She too lets out a relieved sigh.
"I don't know." Kurt answers quietly.
"Okay." She says, pondering for a few seconds. "Here is what we do. You will go to nurse Walsh and tell her to come here. I will call an ambulance and notify the principal Figgins."
Kurt nods in agreement, getting on his feet. He is still shaky, not physically, but mentally, wrecked with tension and guilt. He hates Karofsky, sure, but hurting him has never been his intention. He is almost at the door, when Coach Beiste calls out his name.
"Don't worry. I'm sure David is fine."
Kurt stares at her. He doesn't know how, but something tells him what she really wanted to tell him is, 'Whatever happened here, it's not your fault.'
But maybe that's just wishful thinking.
Thoughts?