AN:

Hey Lovelies :)

First of All before we begin, I just want to say a HUGE THANK YOU AND HUGE HUGS TO THE 27 FOLLOWERS, 14 FAVORITES AND MY REVIEWERS! :)

THANKS SOOOOOOOOOO MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT AND TAKING THE TIME TO READ THIS ;).

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OK ON TO THE STORY...

WE ARE BACK IN PRESENT TIME WITH PAUL, KURT AND DAVE...THIS STARTS WHERE THE LAST CHAPTER ENDED.

ALOT HAPPENS... AND I DO MEAN A LOT!

AZIMIO IS BACK IN THIS CHAPTER...

ALL I WILL SAY ON THAT.

WARNING: THINGS GET INTENSE ONCE AGAIN.

PLEASE REVIEW. :)

THANK U- ILOVESMESOMEGLEE

Chapter 25

"Thank God you didn't make dessert, Kurt."

Paul grumbled, leaning back in his dining room chair.

"Me too."

Dave echoed, rubbing his belly.

Kurt, of course, was pleased.

"Well, feeding two big guys is a specialty of mine."

Both Karofsky men stared at Kurt, silently asking for clarification.

"My dad and Finn Hudson."

Dave nodded.

"Finn eats a lot, huh?"

Kurt smiled.

"Oh Dave, that is such an understatement."

Father and son chuckled.

It was a warm dinner atmosphere and all three men were filled. Dave tried not to think about how he and his dad had three helpings of the clam and garlic sauce pasta and two salads. Especially since Kurt had one salad and half a plate of the delicious pasta.

"Well," Paul began, looking at Kurt, "this was delicious and I'm glad you stayed for dinner. Thank you."

"You're more than welcome, Paul."

Kurt and Paul shared a warm smile, which privately pleased Dave. Dave watched as the two men both sighed at the same time, producing a little embarrassed laugh.

Kurt gingerly wiped his face with a napkin, Dave took a sip of his Coca-Cola, and Paul's eyes shifted between the two teenagers.

"And Kurt?"

Paul asked with adoration in his eyes.

"Thank you for…everything."

The simplicity of that complex statement wasn't missed by either boy. It hung in the air, though, and needed to be addressed.

"Of course, Paul."

Kurt softly said.

And then, he looked at Dave.

"Actually, Dave is a really nice guy and a good friend. We've been hanging out a lot lately!"

Dave smiled.

Paul beamed at his son.

"That's true, Kurt."

Paul began.

"In fact, you were gone all day today. I'm sure you two weren't just 'doing stuff'. Where did you go today?"

The smiles, the happy atmosphere, the wonderful dinner, suddenly became distant memories as Kurt and Dave looked at each other with seriousness. Their body and eye language were sufficient for them, but not for Paul, who looked between them, a curious expression on his face.

"What?"

Paul asked, trying to inject some levity.

"No bank robbing today? No cruising for chicks?"

Paul laughed.

Dave looked down.

Kurt got teary-eyed.

The remaining pasta got cold.

"Dad…"

Paul watched his son struggle with words. This was going to be one of the toughest conversations David Karofsky would ever face.

But it had to be done.

He looked up at Kurt, a pensive, I-don't-know-what-to-say look on his face.

"We went to Fort Wayne."

Kurt simply said.

"Fort Wayne?"

Paul asked, addressing Kurt.

"It's a bigger city than Lima. Nice place. Did you go to the Southwyck Mall?"

Kurt looked down at his plate.

"No."

Dave watched Kurt, eying his hesitancy. Finally, Kurt looked back up at Dave with the same expression Dave sent before. Paul looked between them, a growing uneasiness setting in his full belly.

"Dad," Dave began, staring at Kurt.

"We went to see somebody. A guy."

Paul wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"Who?"

Dave never took his eyes off Kurt.

"We saw…"

Dave said.

"We saw…"

Dave's cell phone buzzed in his pocket. Annoyed, he reached down and opened up a new text.

The text was from Azimio.

It simply said, "dude we need to talk".

It was a curious text message as Dave studied it. But then was not the time. He quickly put his cell phone away and looked back up at Kurt.

"Dad…"

"Spit it out, son. Who did you meet?"

Slowly, Dave looked at his father, his aged, still-strong father square in the eye.

"Jack Hampton."

Paul stared at his son as if he didn't hear him correctly.

Dave's pleading eyes matched Kurt's concerned ones as two teenagers stared at the elder Karofsky.

Seconds passed and nothing had changed. It was as if time (and truth) had frozen everybody in their places.

Finally, Paul looked down at his empty plate.

"I told you…"

Paul quietly said, "to leave it alone. And it can't be the Jack Hampton you two nosy brats think it is! He's dead!"

"No he's not."

Kurt whispered.

"He's alive and well and liv-"

"Leave."

Dave's pleading eyes instantly transformed into wide-eyed shock.

"Dad!"

"Leave Kurt."

Kurt glanced at Dave before just starting to stand up.

"No."

Dave growled.

"No. Kurt's not going anywhere."

"Leave."

Paul said.

But this time, Paul's voice faltered into a pained whisper.

Kurt sat back down.

"Paul," Kurt slowly began, "he's been through hell."

Paul suddenly stood up, furious!

"It is not Jack Hampton!"

He turned, walked towards the sink, and hurled his dirty dishes in the empty sink. Kurt jumped a little at the sound.

Dave briefly looked at Kurt, making sure he was OK, before returning to his dad.

"Yes, he is."

Dave whispered.

With his back to them, Paul minutely shook, holding onto the countertop for dear life.

"Why couldn't," Paul whined, "you two just leave this the fuck alone?!"

Silence.

The final echoes of Paul Karofsky's voice finished travelling around the beautiful dining room. No one knew what to say next, but as usual, Kurt eventually found his voice.

"We're not," Kurt quietly said, "trying to hurt you, Paul. Neither of us are."

And then, quite unexpectedly, Kurt stood.

"But he's alive Paul. And he wants to come here."

Paul snapped his head towards Kurt.

"Well, no stranger is coming to this house!"

Then, Paul stormed out of the kitchen, narrowly missing hitting Dave's back with his hip. Kurt and Dave looked down at their folded hands in unison.

"I'll clean up Kurt. You should probably go home."

Kurt sighed.

"I don't mind clean-"

"Kurt."

And with just that one word statement, all the gravity of the situation became crystal clear. Kurt needed to leave.

The Karofsky men needed to talk or heal or cry or something.

Kurt immediately understood.

"Alright, Dave."

Slowly, Kurt rose from his chair and walked up to Dave.

He oh so gently placed a soothing hand on Dave's rocking shoulder.

"Please call me…whenever…about…"

Dave placed his hand on top of Kurt's.

"I will."

The two stayed there like that for another brief moment.

Finally, Kurt gently squeezed Dave's shoulder, slipped his hand away, and left the house.

His hazel eyes travelled from the salad bowl, to the empty plates, back to the salad bowl, the pasta pot, and anywhere else his eyeballs took him.

Temporarily disassociated with himself, Dave sat there in stunned silence. His dad's reaction didn't really stun him, but he surmised his dad needed proof or something.

Dave bolted upright.

Proof! He had proof!

He shot up out of his chair and up the stairs to his room, without even checking on the whereabouts of his dad.

Emerging into his attic room, he located his letterman jacket and clumsily searched the pockets.

He found it.

Dave smiled.

He found the proof he needed.

Dave quickly fled his room to search for his dad. He knew where he would be and wasn't surprised.

He knocked on Paul's shut bedroom door.

"Dad?"

No answer.

"Dad?"

He knocked again.

"Please, dad?"

Silence.

So, Dave simply slid the copy of the advertisement for Jack's bike shop under the door and walked away.

It was now up to Paul.

Tension a mile thick, Dave knew he just had to get out of the house. He didn't want to go to Kurt's house, since he just wanted to get away from everything associated with his life's sudden struggles.

Keys in hand, he got in his truck and just started driving. Casually weaving on the roads in eastern Lima, he forced his mind to go blank. Driving did that to Dave and was soothing.

He just needed escape. He just needed to have fun.

He just needed…

And then, it hit him.

'dude we need to talk'

Dave made a right-hand turn.

.

Azimio escorted him to the basement, where they often liked to lounge, play video games, talk girls (or boys, since Azimio knew Dave's biggest secret…or, well, one of them), and horse around.

The furnished basement had many good memories and this was just the distraction that Dave needed.

Little did he know…

Dave sauntered over to the upholstered sofa and plopped down.

However, Azimio followed at a much slower pace, eying his best friend with a frown.

Dave stared straight ahead and Azimio's steps became plundering clops, weighed down with emotion and frustration.

Finally, Azimio reached the other end of the couch, eyes never leaving Dave's, and sat down.

"Dude," Dave began, "you would not believe the shit I'm going through lately."

"I know that."

Dave took off his letterman jacket, completely oblivious to Azimio's tone and attitude.

"What's been going on with you lately, Az?"

"Funny you should just now be askin' me about that!"

Dave was stunned.

"Az! What is your problem?"

"YOU! You and your lyin' goddamn ass is my problem!"

"What the fuck did I do?!"

Azimio shook his head in disgust.

"What? You think you can just show up here whenever you want and still-"

"You texted me!"

Dave exclaimed, eyebrows furrowed.

"-and STILL act like we're the best of friends?!"

Dave blinked a couple of times before responding.

"W-what?"

Azimio shifted on the couch, facing Dave.

"I get it."

Azimio said, glaring at Dave.

"Yeah. I get it."

Then, Azimio turned back, staring straight ahead.

"What?" Dave asked.

"What is going on?"

Azimio sighed.

As he looked away, wheels were turning in his head. He had a plan.

Azimio looked down at his folded hands before saying, "Maybe I should've locker-checked Hummel harder."

"What?!"

Dave roared.

"What did you do to Kurt?!"

Azimio finally looked at his best friend's furious face.

And then, unexpectedly, Azimio smiled.

"Like I said," Azimio quietly said, "I get it."

"What? What the fuck is going on here?"

"You like Hummel."

Dave blinked a few times.

"Az, he's been a good friend."

Azimio laughed.

"He's more to you and you know it."

Again, Dave blinked a few times.

Then, he scowled.

"What did you do to-"

"Nuthin'…nuthin'…"

Dave sighed.

"OK, Az. You need to help me out here. What is your problem?"

Azimio chuckled and finally turned on the couch towards Dave.

"Well, lessee…" he began in a softer, almost faraway tone, "My best friend tells me he's a hom-, gay, and then suddenly starts hangin' out with the hom-, gay kid Hummel, and his best friend is just left in the fuckin' dark…"

Dave studied his friend's softer tone of voice.

He had inadvertently hurt Azimio's feelings.

So, Dave sighed.

"Aw, Az!"

Dave whined.

"Are you jealous?"

"No!"

"Yes you are!"

Dave teased.

"THIS AIN'T FUNNY!"

Azimio screamed.

"You just ignored me when your boy toy came into your life!"

Shocked, Dave said nothing.

"D, when was the last time you came over here? Or even texted me?!"

Dave looked down at his folded hands, guilt and understanding washing over him.

He heavily sighed.

"Kurt and I…"

Dave faltered.

Azimio looked at him expectantly.

"Kurt and I have been going through…a lot. And I mean, A LOT."

"Like what?"

Dave looked over at his best friend.

He noticed Azimio's face wasn't so hostile.

That was one of the things he loved about his best friend.

Once he gets something off his chest, that was pretty much the end of it.

"Az, are we cool?"

Azimio looked down and sighed.

"Az, I get it. I'm sorry I've been ignoring you. It wasn't intentional and when I tell you the abridged version of some of the crazy shit Kurt and I have been dealing with, I think you'll understand. And I know you're not completely OK with me being gay."

Azimio suddenly looked down at his lap, knowing Dave was right about accepting his homosexuality.

But Dave was his best friend.

His best friend.

He surmised he was trying well enough – enough to not lose a friend over it.

Slowly, Azimio turned his head, looking at the sad, pleading look on Dave's face. With a stony expression, Azimio slowly lifted his fist up to Dave. Smiling, Dave eagerly returned the fist bump.

Suddenly, Azimio leaped off the couch, walking towards the TV.

"So, what have you and your… B-BOYFRIEND been up to?"

"He's not my-"

"Uh huh."

Azimio turned around with two Xbox video game controllers in his hand.

As he handed one to Dave, he said, "Try to kill a zombie or two while you tell me what the actual fuck is going on with you!"

Dave smiled.

Azimio sat down.

Fourteen zombies re-died messy deaths.

By the time a third game of RESIDENT EVIL was started, Azimio got the abridged version of what's been happening with Dave and his father.

As he listened, Azimio had to fight the urge to be grossed out at the gay parts of the story, which were a considerable amount.

Dave saw Azimio struggle in this way and tolerated it.

For now.

"So," Azimio began, "your dad's gay?"

Dave sighed.

"I…I don't know."

"Sure as hell sounds gay to me."

"I don't know, Az! Alright?"

Azimio looked at his best friend, not quite sure what to say, but knew he was on a touchy subject.

"Alright."

Dave worked the controller in his hand as Azimio did the same.

"Get the zombie on the right."

"On it."

A few second passed before Azimio spoke up again.

"So, what IF this biker dude shows up?"

"He better not."

Dave growled.

"You can't stop him. And it seems like Kurt's not opposed to this idea."

Dave sighed and growled at the same time, in response.

"D, get the elevator door open. I'll go first since I got the rifle."

"OK."

More gameplay progressed until Azimio finally spoke again.

"Well, it's some fucked up shit with you and your dad. You got one seriously dysfunctional family, you know that?"

Offended, Dave snapped his head towards him, but was immediately disarmed by the goofy grin on Azimio's face.

"Shut up and get your rifle ready, alright?"

Azimio chuckled and resumed gameplay.

But one more thought came into his head and, as a true friend, he had to say it.

"If you…"

And then, Azimio hit pause on the controller and faced his troubled best friend. "If you and…Kurt need any help, just let me know."

Dave half-smiled.

"Count on it."

And then, the biggest, goofiest grin erupted on Azimio's face.

"Cool!"

"Now, can we get back to the game?"

Ever so slowly, Azimio's smile fell away. He looked down at the controller in his hands, wishing he simply COULD go back to the game.

But he couldn't.

There was still one more piece of unfinished business left.

And he dreaded it.

"I'm sorry." Azimio whispered.

"Huh?"

"I said I'm sorry."

Dave leaned forward a little on the couch.

"Um, OK. What for?"

Azimio shifted on the couch a little, scratched his check absently, and let his hand drop. He knew this would be hard, but he had to do it.

"I…I wasn't lying."

Dave's eyebrows narrowed in confusion.

"About what?"

"Ummm, well…I really did locker-check Kurt last week."

"What?!"

"But that was before I knew he was your BOYFRIEND!"

"Goddamnit Az! He's not my boyfriend. He's a good FRIEND. And don't do that to Kurt ever again!"

"He pissed me off."

Azimio softly said, like a boy who was being scolded.

"He was talking to that Mercedes chick and I knew it was about you and I didn't like Kurt being your friend and he wasn't saying your name or anything, but I knew he was talking about you, and I hated-"

"Az! Shut up!"

Dave leaned towards him hostilely.

"So on top of everything else, the locker check, the jealousy, on top of all of that, you were eavesdropping?!"

Azimio looked even further down.

"Y-yeah."

Dave raised his hands in the air in frustration and let them drop, loudly smacking his own thighs.

"Azzzzz!"

"I'm sorry Dave. I really am."

Dave couldn't look at him then.

Heavily disappointed, he was lost in his angry thoughts for a couple of seconds before he heard Azimio clear his throat.

When he looked over, Azimio had his fist extended.

"I really am sorry."

Dave let his head fall to the side a little before reluctantly returning the fist bump. Azimio unpaused the game.

Neither boy spoke again for another half hour.

Then, Dave simply got up to leave, as Azimio just stayed where he was on the couch.

But just as Dave reached the staircase, he came to a stop.

"Don't"

Dave whispered, his back to his best friend, "hurt Kurt again."

"OK."

Dave left.

.

It almost sounded like the beginning of a dumb joke. Three men were in a house, in separate rooms, and one of them was alone.

The house was big enough for occupants to have relative privacy if they wanted it.

But Kurt and Dave just hung out together, being teenage boys and even doing homework.

Paul, however, was in the den, going over bills and legal paperwork and bills and grocery lists and…bills.

Other than the knife-sharp tension in the house, it was a pleasant, sunny, Sunday afternoon.

The skies were open to brilliant sunshine and there was very little wind, which kept the temperature slightly above chilly.

But Dave still ran the air conditioner in his attic bedroom.

Kurt wore long sleeves since he knew beforehand that he could get chilly. Dave wore short sleeves.

They both knew Paul was in the den and they reached an agreement that one or both of them would keep an eye on the elder Karofsky as a protective measure.

Paul wasn't speaking.

Since that delicious and devastating dinner, not one word had been uttered out of Paul's mouth.

The boys hated that but Dave explained this was his dad's coping mechanism.

"When he's ready," Dave said, "he'll talk."

"I hope so."

Kurt sadly said.

Dave nodded, turning a page in his geometry textbook.

Kurt was browsing through Twitter, only occasionally showing interest in this tweet or that tweet.

Once in a while, the boys heard footsteps downstairs, surmising Paul was doing housework or getting some tea or whatever.

Dave and Kurt would glance at each other when the sounds of Paul's footsteps came to a sudden halt. Then, they would go back to their teenage business, sometimes with heavy sighs.

"Dave, maybe we should check-"

Bang, bang, bang!

The boys bolted upright.

Somebody was loudly knocking on the front door. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Dave looked at Kurt.

"Who in the hell is knocking on my front door?"

Dave asked.

"Let's go see."

Kurt said, getting up.

"Jehovah's Witnesses like to come to our neighborhood on Sundays."

Dave chuckled and walked with Kurt down to the first floor.

When they emerged, they saw that Paul was already advancing towards the door as another volley of knocks was heard.

The boys stood about ten feet away from the front door as Paul reached it before they did.

Paul unlocked the door, turned the brass knob, and opened the door.

.

AN: ;)

Have A Nice Day-ILOVESMESOMEGLEEX3