This is a very AU take on the episode 'Never Been Kissed'. 2x06. Triggers for bullying, homophobic language, internalized homophobia, and suicide. Read with caution. Any recognizable dialogue has been lifted directly from the episode and is the sole property of FOX, Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, Brad Falchuck, ect. Title is from 'Ashes and Wine' by A Fine Frenzy.
Dave has been avoiding the possibility of confronting Kurt as best he can for weeks – months, actually – and the pressure of holding back every urge that is not-so-safely contained in the back of his mind is really starting to get to him.
He has built iron walls around these impulses that never should have existed to begin with, but they're unfortunately both present and far stronger than Dave's resolve. As much as he tries to ignore every single odd (he refuses to think of them as sexual) thought, they persist in plaguing his mind.
Fantasy after fantasy runs through his head until finally, he just can't ignore them anymore. The breaking point comes when he is attempting to complete far too many algebra problems for what is probably the fifth time and his thoughts quickly stray to a certain boy.
-x-
He bursts through the doors of McKinley, watching students part to either side of him, cowering in fear, with only half as much satisfaction as he usually does. Dave is, cliché though he knows it is to say, a man on a mission – one that includes a hell of a lot more than throwing ice in the faces of his peers.
At this point, he's just pissed.
Really, really pissed.
It's like that Hummel kid is trying to ruin his life and Dave has every intention of making him pay for screwing up so badly.
-x-
Kurt is seething.
That…that…he can't even think of a word vile enough to appropriately describe how much Karofsky disgusts him, but after a moment, it hits him – hamhock. Accurate and original – everything he strives for packed into a single term.
Armed with the only weapon he knows how to use, Kurt charges down the hall, his feet almost noiselessly sliding along the floor as he breaks into a run and wheels around the corner, drawing in a breath to propel his impending scream.
"Hey!" The single word rips from Kurt in a screech as he follows the hulking shape of Karofsky, flinging the locker room door open and not caring that it slams against the wall in the wake of his anger.
"I'm talking to you!" He spits upon receiving no acknowledgement from his tormentor – how ironic that the one time Kurt actually wants Karofsky to speak to him, the Neanderthal's lips are sealed.
"Sneaking in here to peek at my junk?" Karofsky sneers, and if Kurt wasn't shaking with rage already he certainly is now as he storms towards Dave, finally fighting back – he's had enough.
"Oh, yeah, every straight guy's nightmare!" Kurt yells in rebuke, his voice shooting up an octave. "That all us gays are secretly out to molest and convert you! Well guess what, hamhock? You're not my type."
"Yeah?" Kurt knows Karofsky's trying to sound tough, but he detects the slightest quiver in Dave's voice as it brings life to that one word – something akin to fear is threaded through the lone syllable.
Why on earth would Karofsky be afraid of him?
-x-
"Yeah, I don't dig chubby boys who sweat too much and are gonna be bald by the time they're thirty!" Kurt snaps, and Karofsky hears the harsh, biting words echoing around his brain.
Kurt is right in Karofsky's face now and Dave wants to warn him, wants to scream at him to just back away because he can smell Hummel's cologne and it's all too much, too fast.
"Don't push me, Hummel," he growls, slamming a nearby locker shut as his voice grows rough with a combination of anger and desperation.
Kurt flinches at the noise, eyes darting around the room as though he's planning an escape route. Karofsky moves forward to block him, holding up a meaty fist.
Kurt's eyes flash, filling with rage as he lowers his voice.
"Are you gonna hit me? Do it," Kurt challenges, the tension behind his words making his voice crack and break at odd intervals. "Hit me, because it's not going to change who I am-"
Dave's vision is warped by red, then blue – he sees the flushed tone of Kurt's skin and the unnatural aqua shade of his eyes, focusing on each before tearing himself away from temptation and trying to stare menacingly at this damn fairy.
No. No. No. He keeps seeing Hummel's eyes when he closes his out of defeat. Dave feels the familiar prick of tears sneaking up on him – you're weak, weak, weak, his mind screams – and clenches his fists and jaw simultaneously before opening his eyes (nonono he can still see Kurt's eyes and smell his cologne and hairspray and)-
"Get out of my face!" He screams in desperation because he doesn't want to admit the truth.
Dave Karofsky never wants to tell anyone that he's a fag. But Kurt Hummel, all porcelain skin and sapphire eyes and ohGodbeautiful as Dave jerks off to thoughts of him, beautiful even now as a storm brews behind his retinas and he quakes in anger, can see right through the façade Karofsky puts up – he knows, and as their eyes meet for a split second, so does Karofsky.
He's shuddering fiercely now, barely able to distinguish between individual objects in the room as the film of moisture over his eyes continues to build up and, through the sound of the tidal waves of almost-freedom rising from his soul only to crash and break against the impossible, ugly-beautiful truth of Kurt Hummel, Dave hears the words that fall from Kurt's lips and immediately gain velocity, plunging themselves into Karofsky's heart.
"You're nothing but a scared little boy who can't handle how extraordinarily ordinary you are!" Kurt yells, all composure gone as he points at Karofsky, and every word twists the blade in Karofsky's chest, ripping apart his heart to leave behind a wound only he can feel.
Finally, the weight of his emotions has become so great Karofsky can only stagger forward, gripping the fag (fagfagfag and is he talking about himself now?) by the collar of his shirt before taking Hummel's face gently (why gentle whywhywhy nonono just a scared little boy) in his hands, almost cradling it as his lips crash onto Kurt's with contrasting, bruising force. He sucks wetly at Kurt's lower lip, tasting boy and fear as a rope of guilt unfurls within him.
With tears tracking silently down his cheeks, Dave pulls away from Kurt, staring at the broken boy who is, in this moment, all too human and vulnerable before him.
He releases a high-pitched whine that he hopes says just how much he didn't want this even though Kurt probably read his advances as something Dave enjoyed. Nothing could be further from the truth – he screams I hate you over his shoulder. Again, Dave is unsure whether he is saying this to Kurt or himself.
Like always, Karofsky leaves Kurt to pick up the broken pieces, leaves him standing in the wreckage of what has transpired between them.
Like always, he hates himself for it.
And like always, he wishes he could change.
Most of all, he wishes he weren't gay.
Stupid fucking worthless fag fag fag –
The stream of insults follows Karofsky home, lingering in the shadows when he is in bed that evening.
You deserve this, he reasons, as demons play tag inside his head. You deserve this, fag.
-x-
The following weekend, Karofsky kills himself in an abandoned field – like him, it has been cast aside, so it seems fitting that his final resting place is one where misfits gather.
Blood splatters the ground as a shot reverberates through the air and a bullet falls to the dead grass behind his head.
The casket is closed at his funeral.
-x-
Kurt cries the day Dave is buried, wondering what he could have done differently. The question of whether or not Dave's life could have been saved haunts him for a long time afterward, even when he stands before Dave's burial site, hand in hand with his husband, and waits a moment before kneeling to place a single flower on the grave.
No one else cares enough to remember that David Paul Karofsky ever existed in a form other than wisps of memory – Kurt alone remembers everything, all the misunderstandings between them, the torment he now recognizes as the confusion of a boy forced to grow up too fast.
He remembers.
He forgives.
And he knows how Dave felt because he's been there, too.
"I forgive you."
A single rose falls to the stone slab, landing beneath the word 'friend' in the epitaph.
"I'm so sorry, David."
Even in death, Karofsky cannot escape the pain of being left behind.
He watches as the boy who nearly managed to save him from himself walks away, his boots leaving crisp, neat prints in the freshly fallen snow.
-x-
Sometimes, he wishes he hadn't tasted the bitterness of metal.
Sometimes, he wishes there were a piece of him left to save, however small it might be.