A/N: An idea that popped into my head while reading another fanfiction. Weird, huh? XD

Simply a Kurtofsky drabble. Not meant to make much sense. Take it at face value, please. :3


Standing, hesitant, conflicted. Blocking the way. The other turns to retreat. Reaching out to thin air, "Dave, wait! We need to talk." A little angry. "Stop running away from your problems! That never solves anything."

Ashamed, flustered, fleeing. "Shut the fuck up, Hummel! I don't have to deal with you."

"I think you do. You…" A pause. Softly, "There was a lot in that kiss, and you know it, Dave. Please. I could help you."

"Like I want your help!" Pushing past, painful. A stumble, but standing firmly again. A grab of a muscular arm.

"David…"

"And stop calling me that! Stop saying my first name like you know me. You don't know me, Hummel. Not at all."

Swallowing, keeping his ground. Releasing the arm, staring up into burning brown eyes. "You're right. I don't know you. I thought I did; I thought I knew you as the Neanderthal jerk who always picked on me in any way he could because he was disgusted with me for being homosexual. I thought I knew you as the big, tough hockey and football player everybody else praises you to be. But I was wrong. Deep down, you're just a torn-up closet-case teenage boy who doesn't know what to do with himself because his parents and choice of friends raised him to be one way, and yet he's a completely different person that nobody knows anymore. You try so hard to be what others want to see you to be, and yet you're failing inside, aren't you?"

Lengthy speech. Trying not to listen, trying not to agree. But there is no denying this. Not a word is untrue.

Silence.

"I don't know you. But neither does anybody else. And frankly, out of all of the people who attend this school, I'm probably the only one who could get to know you, who would understand, and I'm probably the only one who can help you get through these issues you have." A pause. A glance down at his designer shoes, then back up again. "But you have to let me, Dave. Or you can choose to keep running away."

A disgruntled sigh. Then, slowly, quietly: "Fine. I'll let you in, Kurt. But only because I have no where else to go."

A small, encouraging smile. "That's a start."