Please, be gentle, this is my very first fanfiction ever. I love both Glee and SPvtW, and I thought, "OMG, that would make such an epic adaptation!" So here I am, putting my creative sparks to good use!

This prologue is told from David's POV, and it covers pretty much from "Never Been Kissed" to "Prom Queen", I believe. So most of this is a recap, with David as the narrator. The rest of the story will rely on a 3rd person perspective. I wanted to set the stage for everything first, I'm sorry if there isn't much geeky goodness in this chapter. But I do promise filthy, hardcore smut in this story! ;-)

And of course, I do not own Glee or any other geeky mentions that I make in this story. If I did, Glee would be rated TV-MA and would probably be put on a primetime slot for something like Cinemax or Showtime, away from the sensitive eyes of soccer moms…


David Karofsky vs. the World

Prologue: David Karofsky's Precious Little Life

One gets used to the sound of locker slams, whether it be from students slamming them shut, or from when Hummel's tiny frame hits the thin metal. Heh, it's almost therapeutic…almost being the key word…I hated having to do it, call me weak and malleable (yes, I know what that word means, I'm in fuckin' AP English, so suck it!), but if I don't hold true to the pressures made by those around me…they would start to suspect…they would know something's up, they'd question "Why isn't Karofsky throwing Hummel into the lockers right about now?". Then it would go further, with them asking "Is Karofsky being nice to Hummel now? What, did he catch the gay?"

Yes, yes I did, thank you very much…no, I never really caught it, since you can't really be made gay. But I guess it just took some time for me to realize it, maybe it was puberty that did it for me. All of the other guys were fixated on boobs and reveling in the wonders of newfound masturbation. Me, I still reveled in the wonders of newfound masturbation, but it wasn't for the same reason…Yeah, I think it was around 12 years or so when I started to notice our resident Frankenteen, Finn Hudson in the showers after football practice…how he started to fill out in more than just his pecs and abs…heh, I can never be thankful enough that I was in the front of showers, closest to the exit. I learned from then to make my eyes go out of focus whenever we have to hit the showers after gym or football and hockey practice. But when one Kurt Hummel came prancing into McKinley high, with his Alexander McQueen and his Salvatore Ferra…Ferro…Ferrero Roche?

Anyway, when Kurt came into my sight, my eyes couldn't unfocus, I was mesmerized, how can any one person be so god-damned beautiful? I wondered immediately how he would have looked naked—that bare, hairless, svelte body, those long legs wrapped around my waist as I ram him up against the lockers, our tongues shoved so far down each other's throats…Needless to say, the first (and each subsequent) sight of him made me as hard as a rock…I wanted so badly to go up to him and politely introduce myself and offer to carry his books. As I took the first step towards him, I then thought of the repercussions, how being gay would turn me into a laughing stock and hounded by anyone who was cowardly enough to do things to me behind my back or confront me with a whole posse. And my thoughts just went downhill from there, all the way to thinking about what happened to Matthew Shepard…I didn't want that to happen to me…I got scared…and like what Master Yoda said, "Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate…leads to suffering…"And all that happened in the few steps I took towards Hummel as I shoved him for the first time into the lockers…

That night, in the private sanctity of my room, where I am sure there would be no one to judge me, I thought of him. I thought of what it would be like for me to drag my tongue along his prominent collarbone. Hearing his compliant moans, I'd clamp my mouth down on his neck, sucking and nibbling at the succulent flesh to make a hickey that would make Santana Lopez impressed. The imagery worked wonders, as it made from soft to painfully hard in my boxers. I grasped my length through the cotton barrier, a wet spot beginning to form at the peak of the tent. The thoughts of Hummel invaded my head in full force, his body perched above me, as we proceeded to suck each other off, my fingers lightly tracing his sensitive entrance. He pulled off my throbbing cock to let out a pleading whimper, I replied by lubing my fingers up with the saliva and precum dripping off his cock. I freed my pulsating cock from its prison, the cool air in my room causing a shiver to run up and down my spine. I rubbed my thumb around the throbbing head, releasing a steady flow of the clear, sticky fluid. I gathered some up with my thumb and sucked on it greedily. Kurt's tight hole bounced up and down my cock, his own swinging like a pendulum, wetly slapping my stomach, leaving small puddles of precum. He picked some up with his thumb and shoved it in my mouth, which I hungrily sucked on. I couldn't bear my own teasing anymore, and placed a firm grip on my shaft and pumped with lustful vigor, imagining it was Hummel's impossibly tight ass sliding up and down it.

Thankfully, my parents' room is on the other side of the house, because my almost pained sounding whimpers might have clued them in as to what activity I might be doing…I felt that white-hot heat starting to build in my groin, like a supernova was about to burst inside of me. Kurt's animalistic groans and moans echoed throughout my room, my bed frame creaking under the punishment, the wet slaps of our sweaty bodies mashing together. He was sitting in my lap, and I was sitting up as well, with my arms wrapped tightly around him in a bearhug, impaling him on my about-to-burst cock. He digs his nails sharply into my back and gives me the most intense and lustful look in his eyes as he growls a whisper, "Fuck me, David. Fuck me as hard as you can. Shoot your fucking load in me…" My eyes shot open, and I bit down hard on my pillow, letting out muffled scream as I ejected rope after rope of white-hot semen all over my torso and a bit on my face. The afterglow was short-lived; as the dreading guilt and shame started to creep in…I would never have him like that. I cried myself to sleep, a sweaty, sticky, crying mess.

They can never know…I've spent so much effort trying to cement myself as top dog and duke stud of McKinley High. If they knew I was…like that, it would all come crashing down, I would have nothing left, my friends would abandon me, and no one would want to be around me. How does Hummel do it? How does he not care about what others think of him? Sure, I guess it helps that he's already below the A/V club in terms of coolness because he's in the Glee club, so there's really nothing to lose…But still all the looks…the unspoken remarks…that's gotta do some damage…Maybe I should ask him someday what it's like. Heh, that probably won't happen, he won't even give me the time of day. I royally fucked my chances of ever being civil with him up the ass when I decided to threaten his life to protect my "dirty little secret". Ugh, as much as I hate to the very subject of an All-American Rejects song…

Or maybe it was when I decided to lip-rape him…It was like a dream and nightmare come true all at the same time. Looking into those gorgeous eyes of his, the color, an unnamable blue-green, like a mixture of sapphire and emerald, I call the color "Sapphimerald", or maybe something out of the gay color swatch-book, like "Skyward Viridian". My hands cupping his smooth, milky face. My lips crashing on to his, as if my life was gonna end. You know that feeling when time kinda slows down when you experience something that's gonna change your life? Yeah, I got that…I know that kiss only lasted 2.3 seconds or something like that, but it felt like forever. Those lips…so soft and velvety, tasting slightly of some sort of berry chapstick, unlike mine, chapped and probably tasting slightly of blood, due to my habit of biting my lip and tearing off thin pieces of skin whenever I get nervous or agitated. That part felt like the dream, but the nightmare was quick to follow when I dove back in for a second kiss, thinking that he was gonna reciprocate this time around…but then I felt those hands press strongly against my chest, and I saw that look of utter horror…and disgust, maybe? That was the knife in my heart, maybe I really wasn't his type…Just a chubby boy who sweats too much and is going to be bald by the age of 30…

Or maybe my chances to be civil with him ended the moment I first laid my hands on him to shove him into the lockers…heh, I wonder if it was all truly worth it, tormenting this brave (not to mention utterly sexy) kid to fill in the cracks in my mask. But they all expect it of me now, they expect it of Karofsky…Karofsky, no one ever refers to me as anything but my last name, like it's a title…I don't want to be "Karofsky", but I need to be him. I can't be that boy that my mom and dad says is so sweet and sensitive, that boy's name is David. I wonder if Hummel would have seen me any differently if I was him instead…*sigh* I really want to be him, I'm tired of living in fear, tired of not being myself, tired of not being able to love who I want to love…But who could ever learn to love a beast? I want to have hope that someday, someday, I might be able to have the courage to say to myself and to others, "My name is David Karofsky, and I'm hopelessly in love with Kurt Hummel."

But he'll never know that…I fucking threatened his life and stole from him on top of that! I drove him away from McKinley high and to Hogwarts, minus the epic magic…Where he met that walking hairgel commercial, Bland?…Harry?…Eyebrows?...Whatever the hell its name was…*snaps fingers* Blaine! That's it, I remember, 'cause I was replaying Pokémon Yellow on my old Gameboy Color that I found deep in my deathtrap of a closet, and one of the gym leaders was named Blaine. 'Cept hairgel Blaine wasn't toting around a Ninetails, Rapidash, and Arcanine…Umm…so, when Fancy and Eyebrows cornered me in the quad, my thoughts were racing at a mile a second…was it not enough for Hummel to tell me that I was fat and disgusting, and now he's just twisting the knife by waving his boyfriend in front of my face...Heh, could you expect any different from me than to shove Sir Dapper into the fence? Then seeing the look in Kurt's eyes when he—


"Hey, Boogie-man!" (Why she calls me that is beyond me…wait, the Boogie-man hides in the closet, scares the little boy, then jumps back in the closet...and me being a closeted gay…A closet monster gay…that bitch…) "Who the hell are you talking to?" Santana says with the eternal venom in her voice.

"Uh…um…" Hell, I don't even know what I'm doing half the time.

"Tsk tsk…Breaking the fourth wall again with your 'self-monologues', mm? She leans up against me, pulling a nail file out of her hair (what the hell else does she keep in there? She first said razor blades, what's next, a double-ended dildo?).

"Well, I'm kinda telling my story with Kurt till this point in time…"

"Mhmm, ah yes, another crappy rom-com fiction. Who the hell writes this shit? Hey you, you spiky-headed freak on the keyboard! How 'bout some Brittana action, no one wants to see some corny-ass Kurtofsky angst! Ay, cabrón, you're only into the prologue, and already you mention a hardcore jerkoff scene!"

"Whoa, whoa! Easy there, Lopez! Don't wanna anger the author, and besides, you two have more than 1500 stories on Fanfiction, whereas Kurt and I only have about 800, that's even less than the Kurt and Finn pairings, and don't even get me started on the 4800+ that Kurt and Blaine have together…" I lament as I hold Santana back from swiping at the air in front and above us.

"Y'all think I don't knows that?...Ugh, fine, have your crappy Scott Pilgrim adaptation…" She stalks off, grumbling under her breath and pulling stress ball out of her hair this time.


*sigh* Sorry about that, bitch just wants all the smut to herself…Now where was I? *Looks back a couple paragraphs* Right. Kurt pulled me off of his boyfriend with the most heart-shattering look in his eyes. I just wanted to scream at him, demand why hell he's doing this to me, but then I'd wager he'd turn the question back at me. So again, I got scared and ran away from Kurt a second time.

Then came the death threat…God, I don't even know what I was thinking…I was scared, alright? You can't honestly tell me that you would have the courage to do things rationally if you were in my situation. Oh, and then came the cake topper incident...sheesh, I must have seemed like such a creeper, running my finger down his tight chest…Okay, I admit, I was really horny that day, and I wanted more intimate physical contact other than the usual locker shoves. And then came the situation in the principal's office. Ugh…why did my dad have to clue them in on how I really am, how I'm not really the asshat that I appear to be all the time at school.

Don't get me wrong, I love my parents, and they told me themselves that they'd love me no matter what, I just don't know what stopping me from telling them. It could be the guilt of being the sole male Karofsky, and seeing as though I'm not exactly the kind to bear a child or father one, carrying on the family name might be a tad problematic…As I looked across the room, I could tell that Kurt could already see the cracks starting to form in my mask. He could have ended it right there and then, could've told everyone that the reason for all of this was because I was gay and that I kissed him. But he didn't. I barely even cared that I was expelled (I knew anyway that I would be back eventually, due to my dad being a "cutthroat lawyer with a heart of gold", my mom's words, not mine.), I got up and lightly shook my head at Hummel, sort of in disappointment that he didn't out me.

And then, just like that, he was gone…When I got the news that he went to Hogwarts All-boys Academy, I felt a void boring itself deep in my core. Like an important component to my functioning was missing. When I didn't see Hummel the entire day, no one would tell me what was up (more like I was scared to ask anyone, lest they connect the dots). I had to find out from Azimio in his own way, as he chortled,

"Hey bro, aren't the halls easier on the eyes now that little miss prissy pants ran off to Hogwarts School of Gaycraft and Faggotry?"

"What?" I sounded a little too concerned.

"Yeah, rumor has it that you finally scared off our resident fairy princess! Gotta give you props on that!" He chuckled as he clapped me on the back. I immediately felt wetness starting to line my eyes.

"I…I…I gotta go…" I couldn't say anything without giving myself away to Az, so I ran off to a place where I can be alone. I peeked into the empty auditorium, just in case Berry was belting her shoulda-coulda-woulda's. I took a deep breath and stepped into the ghost lights dimly illuminating the bare stage. The exhale of my breath echoed amongst the barren seats. I was alone…both in principal and actuality…I collapsed to my knees and finally experienced the full brunt of the gravity of the situation, my steady stream of tears painting the already black stage an even deeper void of color. I dug my nails into the wood and felt splinters inching up each nail, the pain couldn't even compare to feeling of my insides being hollowed out with every passing second. Then the hyperventilation came, then the dry heaving…It was my fault, I was the one to drive Kurt away…I would never see him again…His crazy Gaga outfits, the way his entire face lights up when he smiles, the way his eyes shift into different phases of color depending on his mood, hell, I wouldn't even get to see his bitchy disposition anymore. I missed him already. I need….I need to tell him how I feel…But I can't even achieve telling myself how I feel! God damn it, why the fuck do I have to be so fucking scared and pathetic!

My mind then went to hearing Kurt's voice for the first time, so angelic, so beautiful. Granted, it was sung to Hudson and I was eavesdropping outside the choir room door. It was as clear as day that he was in love with Frankenteen, but was too scared to directly say anything to him. If he can convey what he can't say through words through song, could I do the same? What would I sing, would I sound like a creeper, a love sick puppy, a pathetic fool in love, that's the one. Something that could tell him how much it hurts without him to fill that void in my heart now…

http:(Slash)(Slash)www(dot)youtube(dot)com(Slash)watch?v=26PAgklYYvo&ob=av3e

Let me hold you for the last time
It's the last chance to feel again
But you broke me, now I can't feel anything

When I love you and so untrue
I can't even convince myself
When I'm speaking it's the voice of someone else

(I clutch my heart, feeling the words take hold, speaking not only to the emptiness, but more importantly, to myself.)
Oh, it tears me up
I tried to hold on but it hurts too much
I tried to forgive but it's not enough
To make it all okay

You can't play our broken strings
You can't feel anything
That your heart don't want to feel
I can't tell you something that ain't real

(With the music in my head stirring my muscles, I stand up and belt out to the empty seats with tears continuing to fall freely.)
Oh, the truth hurts and lies worse
How can I give anymore
When I love you a little less than before?

(I look to my side to see a phantom image of Kurt, ghostly, but still beautiful in every way, who takes up the female part.)
Oh, what are we doing?
We are turning into dust
Playing house in the ruins of us

(I reach out and clasp my hand around one of the image's translucent ones, how I wished it truly was him here, hearing these words, making an impact on him as it does to me.)

Running back through the fire
When there's nothing left to say
It's like chasing the very last train
When it's too late, too late

(I reach out for the other hand and stare into the phantom's eyes.)
You can't play our broken strings
You can't feel anything
That your heart don't want to feel
I can't tell you something that ain't real

(I don't know how I had the lung capacity or range to pull any of this off. And I still don't get how I'm able to stay in tune with tears constantly streaming down my face and effectively soaking my letterman.)
Oh, the truth hurts and lies worse
So how can I give anymore
When I love you a little less than before?
Oh, you know that I love you a little less than before

(Something warm starts to fill my chest as a realization finally dawns on me. I love him…I truly do love him. I wrap my arms around the ghost of Kurt, pulling my imaginary love into my chest.)
Let me hold you for the last time
It's the last chance to feel again

The music fades in my head as I'm left sobbing and holding myself in the dim lights of the stage.

The following weeks, I tried to get used to not seeing Hummel in the hallways. People have started to notice a drop in the bullying and how my usual angry scowl turned into a melancholy puppy look, like a puppy who's lost his master…they're starting to suspect and connect the dots, and I'm starting not to care. Crying myself to sleep has become routine. My parents are seriously starting to worry, sure the bullying worried them a bit, but seeing their usual beaming boy spiral down into a slump has started to have them dote on me constantly, asking me how I am. Of course, I give the stock answer "Fine…"

I felt so damn hopeless, I couldn't function correctly, it was like I was on autopilot for everything that I did: I barely kept up an intelligent conversation outside of acknowledging grunts, I stopped laughing at Az's jokes, Beiste was getting on my case for letting Hudson get sacked in practice. I was getting so fucking tired of feeling like this. I went into my bathroom and opened my medicine cabinet. I had a ton of Vicodin left over from my various sports injuries, that would do. As I was about to thrust the entire bottle down my throat, I caught my eye in the mirror…What the fuck was I doing? Why am I taking the coward's way out? Kurt, he…he would be stronger than this…Maybe…maybe if I can prove that I can be a stronger person, word might get out and he might notice…and come home…I recapped the bottle, shoved it back in the cabinet, and faceplanted back down on my bed, not crying myself to sleep for the first time in weeks.

And with Santana's help, don't ask, long story…If you must know, she's a big lezzy and knows that I'm gayer than springtime. She proposed that we'd become each other's beards to lure Kurt back to McKinley, and so she can win Brittany's heart by becoming prom queen or some other farfetched Lopez plan... She knew about how I felt about him too…Am I that obvious? I swear, I thought I was hiding it kinda well…Oh god, I'm like Kurt with Finn last year…But Auntie Tanna, as she allows me to call her, is actually pretty awesome, she's like the bitchy lesbo sister I never had…She's kinda like a mentor to me as well, helping me come to terms with my "inner gay". And also, lemme tell you, the bitch can fight…A few times we got into a little physical scuffle over whether or not Kuja from Final Fantasy IX would make a hotter chick or dude, and she ended up dropping my hit points to 1, usually due to her "Epic Nut Shot" or a lucky draw from the pocket dimension she calls her hair (one time, she fuckin' threw an authentic Japanese cast-iron teapot, who keeps that in there?)…

Then he came back…I'm sure Satan…urr…Santana noticed my desire to go to him, but she held me back saying that it was "too soon", whatever the chocobo-fuck she meant…Then we started the "Bully-whips" (her idea for the name, not mine. And don't even get me started on the ridiculous berets!) to keep an eye out for potential bullying activities…but also as an excuse for me to be close to Kurt in a non-threatening manner. Then one day, when I escorted him to class…

"I see how miserable you are, David…I could just hate you when you were bullying me, but now all I see is your pain and you don't have to torture yourself over this…I'm not saying you should come out tomorrow, maybe soon, the moment will arise when you can."

Just like that, he tore down my walls yet again with a +7 to guilt sledgehammer. I broke down for the first time in front of him, at that moment, I couldn't give a flying fuck about who would see me like this. Most importantly, he needed to see that I am human, after all, and that I wanted his forgiveness more than anything in the world…

"I know…I know." It wasn't "I forgive you", but it was a hell of a start! Someone from space could even see the life returning in my eyes, renewed with a desire to fight for Kurt, to protect him from anything that would dare hurt him. "Remember, you wait for me here, alright?" I felt such a surge of protectiveness, I was not about to let him down…

Until that night…I sat in my throne on the stage, beads of sweat streaming down my head, not just because I was in a tux under blaring stage lights…He was to be my prom queen…Under an overwhelming amount of write-in votes…Did everyone know, and were just too scared to say it to my face, so they had to pull this shit to prove their point? God, what was going through Kurt's mind, I saw him storm out of the gym in tears…I was all alone on the stage, everyone was staring at me…what were they expecting out of me, like they were waiting for something…Like for a larval Xenomorph to burst itself outta my chest, or sharp appendages ripping out of my torso as I mutate into a Necromorph, or they might be waiting to pull a Carrie…Fuck, my imagination is screwed up, but just to double check, I glanced up to see if there were any hanging buckets…Then Kurt found his way on stage, took his crown with an unmatchable diva air. I felt his inner strength radiating across the stage. Reality then smacked me across the face with a morning star, as I forgot that we were to dance together…

"Now's your moment…Come out, make a difference" As "Dancing Queen" started to play, my fearful flashbacks started pounding in my head in quadruple-time…I lost whatever inner strength I took from Kurt. "I…I can't…" I fled from the gym with tears in my eyes, I ran away from Kurt for the third time... As I reached the doors, I stole one final glance and saw Kurt smiling…? Because Harry Potter decided to take my place…because he's stronger than I am, never fearful to be himself in public…I punched open the door in front of me, feeling the metal give way to my fist. I didn't check to see if I made a dent, but I'm sure my knuckles would tell me in the morning…With that hobbit in Kurt's life, I will never have a chance…I need to be strong…but in order for him to see that, I need to learn to be strong, not for him…but for me…Show him and the world that I, David Isaac Karofsky, will no longer cower in my precious little life!


And there we have the prologue, my fellow Gleeks, geeks, and depraved children! There will be much much more to come, this I swear on the lifeblood of this baby goat in front of me! I've heard many things about the addictive nature of reviews, and I wanna give them a try! So, onegashimashita, reviews shall be greatly appreciated! Gracias, spasibo, arigato gozaimasu, xie xie, salamat, danke, merci, gurra mah aggut, qatlho, dryhg oui, , and most of all, thank you! ^_^

*Today's song was "Broken Strings" by James Morrison and Nelly Furtado: http:(Slash)(Slash)www(dot)youtube(dot)com(Slash)watch?v=26PAgklYYvo&ob=av3e