I really had no choice but to write this. It lodged in my brain and wouldn't leave me alone! So sorry if it sucks, but I absolutely LOVED this episode. Darren Criss was so SUPERMEGAFOXYAWESOMEHOT it was unreal! ;D Even this doesn't have Blaine in it I felt the need to say that! If you're cool you'll get it! Also, as a quick note my 'v' key is stuck and I have to push it with both hands if I want it to work so if there are any typos I'm sorry. I think I got them all, but you never know! =) anyways, enjoy!

Dave Karofsky was NOT gay. Even suggesting something so ridiculous would get you a broken face courtesy of 'The Fury', and as a result, he spent most of his time wanting to punch himself in the face for the dreams he would have late at night, when everyone else in the house was asleep.

He was thirteen when they started. And you can bet they scared the shit out of him. All because if Kurt fucking Hummel and his girl pants and high voice. It was all his fault. If he would just be normal and straight he wouldn't be making Dave feel these weird feelings. Because this wasn't normal, these dreams he was having. He would wake in a cold sweat, eyes wide, and so turned on it was fucking ridiculous. Because no guy should make him want to lose his shit like that. He liked girls, and this yappy little gay boy wasn't gonna change that.

Every night before he went to bed, he would tell himself not to dream about Kurt. There was never an night he took off or let up on, because when he was awake he could deny the feelings, say they weren't real or didn't matter, that it was just his mind playing tricks on him, but at night when he was sleeping and his dreams led him to believe he had Kurt . . . well he couldn't deny that. Couldn't say it was nothing because when he had those dreams he was actually happy. Happy for the few moments of bliss the dream would steal from his logical mind. No matter how hard he tried to deny he wanted Kurt, his subconscious knew that was bullshit.

So he would repeat his mantra, every night before sleeping "You will NOT dream about Kurt tonight." He would whisper to himself while he snuggled under the covers on his bed, praying that his mind would listen and not torture him with the images that would fight for attention in his head all day if he did have the dream.

And even though he said it every night it didn't mean it always worked, There were still night he would wake in a highly dishevel state, aching with want, lust, and love. Because yeah, maybe he did sort of love it whenever Kurt's eyes met his, even if he was glaring at him in hatred, and lately Kurt had been glaring at him A LOT, but that's the way it had to be.

He couldn't help berating the small soprano. He needed some kind of contact, any kind, and if that meant pushing Kurt into a locker or tossing him in the dumpster he would do it. Not hard enough to hurt him, because he never wanted to hurt Kurt, and if he ever physically hurt him he thought he would just kill himself. But then he remembered that it was this boy who was making him feel weird and confused feeling, and suddenly he didn't care. Because this was Hummel's fault.

If he wasn't so damn irresistible, Dave wouldn't even have a problem, wouldn't feel any kind of attraction to him, but no, Kurt had to go and be all "out and proud" waltzing around like he fucking owned the school. No, Dave wouldn't stand for that. He couldn't, someone had to beat some sense into that boy.

So he took it upon himself to do that. If Kurt was straight then he wouldn't have his problem, wouldn't be afraid to close his eyes in fear that Kurt had infested his dreams. He liked girls. He liked soft hair and hips, not boys, not board shoulders and strong arms, but then again Kurt wasn't like most boys.

The thing he tried to deny more than anything was the fact that, yeah, maybe it wasn't just Kurt that got him hotter than normal. Sometimes in the locker room one of his teams mates would be undressing and he couldn't help but look. Couldn't help the blush he tried desperately to hide from coloring his face. He would repeat over and over "You like girls. Girls." whenever this happened, because that was the truth. It had to be the truth.

It never worked, because then Santana and Brittany would come waltzing down the hallways, pinky's hooked together and the rest of the football team would try and see up their skirts (not that it was that hard, the length of those things were practically non-existent anyway) and Dave would find himself uninterested, disgusted even at the thought of kissing one of them. Kissing Kurt on the other hand, that didn't sound half bad. And that scared him. Because he wasn't gay. Couldn't be gay. He was straight. He had to be straight.

He saw how everyone treated Kurt, hell saw how he treated Kurt. This town wasn't made for people like him, people who were different. If he had to go through what Kurt went through eery day because of his sexual preference . . . he might just kill himself. Hell, he didn't see how Kurt didn't crack under the constant bullying, dumpster dives, and slushie facials.

Yet Kurt revealed in being different. Embraced his abnormality, and actually had the courage to proclaim his difference to the world. And Dave thought that Kurt was probably the bravest kid in the entire world for being able to do that. It also made him hated himself for not having that courage. But then again, he wasn't even gay. He was straight, he shouldn't be jealous of Hummel. He was the messed up one. He was the one who was wrong.

Because since he was little Dave's parents had drilled into his head that being gay was wrong, that it was a bad thing, and that all the fags in the world would burn in hell for being so different. And truthfully, he think he could survive the kids at school if he had his families support, but he didn't. They would kick him out. He would have no place to go, no one to help him.

So he stuck to his sayings, playing them over in his head, adopting the stance that if he said them enough they would become true. "You won't dream about Kurt." "You don't like boys. You like girls." "There is nothing different about you." "This is all Hummel's fault."

But the older he got the harder it became to lie to himself. He was desperate for a little contact, a little bit of relief . . . a little compassion and understanding. He needed someone to know what he was going through, he needed someone to empathize with. And the only person that came to his mind was Kurt. Kurt Hummel. His secret crush, the one he wanted more than anything in the entire world, not that he would ever admit that, even to himself.

So that's were he found himself, after he had pushed Kurt into his locker for the umpteenth time, but this time the small boy followed him, running into the locker room after him yelling his head off.

"I am talking to you!"

Dave kept his eyes on his locker, taking his shoes out and placing them on the bench. "Girls locker room's next door." he said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion, knowing what this boy could do to him in close proximity.

This was what he had wanted. He wanted Kurt to follow him and demand to know what was wrong with him. He wanted him to break down the walls and get him to admit something he hadn't even admitted to himself yet.

"What is your problem?" Kurt screamed, coming closer to him.

"Excuse me?" He tried covering up his uncontrollable want with anger, scared to let someone in no matter how much he needed to. No matter that this was what he wanted.

"What are you so scared of?"

"Besides you sneaking in here to peak at my junk?"

"Oh yeah every straight guys nightmare! That all us gays are secretly out to molest and convert you! Well guess what Ham hawk, you're not my type!"

Ok that shouldn't have hurt as much as it did. His heart was not breaking at that. He did not feel like he had been kicked in the stomach. And the thought he was not Kurt Hummel's type defiantly DID NOT make him want to crawl under the covers and cry like a little girl. "That right?" he said, again, using anger to cover up his hurt and confusion.

"Yeah, I don't dig on chubby boys who sweat too much and are gonna be bald by the time they're thirty." And that also defiantly did not add to the feeling of emptiness that was growing in his chest.

"Do not push me Hummel!" Dave said, raising his fist as a warning.

"You gonna hit me?" Kurt's eyes drifted to Daves' closed fist. Then back you at his face, defiance and confidence radiating from his form. "Do it!"

"Don't push me!" He slammed his locker closed, wanting Kurt to run away, because he couldn't hit him, not with those big brown eyes staring into his with a fire he had never seen there before.

"Hit me cause it's not gonna change who I am! You can't punch the gay out of me any more than I can punch the ignoramus out of you!"

"I SAID GET OUT OF MY FACE!" he yelled, knowing how this would end if they kept it up. Kurt was too close, too powerful, had too strong of a hold around him without even knowing it.

"You are nothing but a scared little boy who can't handle how extraordinarily ordinary you are!"

And suddenly he couldn't take it anymore. He let the part of him he tried his best to suppress every day come out. The part he denied with his mantras and saying. He let the real him shine to the surface. And before he could even comprehend what he had done his lips were on Kurt's, his hands cupping the sopranos face.

It was nothing like kissing a girl. It felt right, it felt good, it felt... natural, like this was how it was always suppose to be.

But he could also tell that Kurt had froze under his hands. That there was no reciprocation. He had shocked Kurt. This was obviously the exact opposite of what he thought would happen. So he pulled back, and looked into those gorgeous eyes that were filled with shock, terror, and hurt. But he couldn't help himself, Dave leaned in again, ready to capture Kurt's lips, but before he could he was pushed way with more force than he thought ever possible to come out of little Kurt Hummel.

And then he realized what he had done. He had just kissed Kurt Hummel, in the locker room, in the middle of a school day. This was bad. Very, very bad. This was ruin his life bad, get him kicked out of the house and be friendless bad. He was stupid. A complete and utter fucking idiot. He hadn't listened to himself, hadn't listened to the logic that his head had suggested. His heart had won. And he guess he knew somewhere that it would in the end.

Kurt brought his hand on his mouth, tears forming in those beautiful eyes. Tears he had caused. And this time it wasn't because of a name or ruined clothes. It was because he had kissed him. Because he had showed him what he was too afraid to show anyone else. The one person that could help him was disgusted with him, and he couldn't handle that.

So he ran. Hit his locker and ran, not looking back as his heart ached in his chest. Not worrying that it was the middle of school and he should be in class. He had to get out of here. Had to leave. Had to go where things made sense.

But things wouldn't make sense. No matter where he went he would be surrounded by confusion and questions too difficult for a kid in high school to answer. He wished more than anything he could go back to a time when none of this mattered, when he was little and could pass off his distaste in girls as "they have cooties" and no one would question him. Mostly, he just wanted to go back to a time and place where he was happy. Because this, right here, wasn't anywhere near happy. This was borderline full-blown depression and self-hate.

Never in his life did he want to punch himself in the face more than at this moment, because he couldn't deny it anymore, not with the kiss replaying in his head like some kind of movie, not when he could still taste Kurt on his lips, not when he could still recall the exact way it had made him feel. He was gay, and he hated himself for it.

My friend and I have agreed that Glee has been eaten by the angst monster, not that I can complain. I love me some angst! =D But anyways, I hope you enjoyed and please drop me a review telling me what you thought! LOVE YOU ALL!