Author's Note: To answer your unasked questions, no I'm not dead! I have returned, and I come bearing cyber cookies and serious plot development as apology. I did say I was awful at sticking with multi-chaptered stories. Hopefully I'll be back for a while, though. I have lots planned for this story. It all depends on if it actually gets written or not. I'm looking for a beta, too. So if anyone is interested, please PM me. As always, reviews inspire me to keep writing. Constructive criticism is always welcome. :)

"Kurt, sweetie, you have a visitor."

Kurt glanced up from the copy of Vogue he'd managed to get ahold of to see a blonde orderly standing with a smile on her face. The copy was old anyways, he decided, tossing it to the side and unfolding himself from where he'd been tucked into the corner of the worn couch. He was leaving tomorrow. He was packed up and ready to go. Blaine lifted his curly head from where it was resting on the opposite end of the couch, pouting when his feet were removed from Kurt's lap.

"Who is it?" the curly haired boy asked with interest.

The orderly rolled her eyes. "I don't know, Blaine. Someone named Dave."

Kurt's eyes widened, but he followed the orderly to a conference room nonetheless. And there Dave was, sitting in a blue polo and dark jeans, staring at the table top like it held all the answers in the world. The orderly shut the door behind them, and suddenly Dave was up and holding Kurt close. Kurt tensed automatically, but he did gingerly return the hug, unsure of how he should act now that Karofsky was suddenly Dave. Human and flawed and caring just like everyone else. It was so strange.

"Oh god, Kurt, I have to...I can't just..." He pulled back, cupped Kurt's face and searched his eyes.

"Dave...are you okay?" Kurt asked tentatively, voice quiet and strained.

"I - I don't...I can't... fuck." Dave slid back into his seat, dropping his head into his hands.

"Uh, Dave? Hey, Dave." Kurt grabbed a chair and pulled it up next to the distraught hockey player, putting a small hand on his back and rubbing soothingly. "Hey. It's okay. What's going on, Dave? You can talk to me, come on. You're the one that saved me, after all. Come on. Talk to me."

"I think I'm gay," Dave blurted out, looking at Kurt desperately, and that wasn't at all what he was expecting. He pulled back, looking at Dave in disbelief.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Which, okay, in hindsight that was a really bad thing to say.

"I think I'm gay," Dave repeated, slower this time.

Kurt ran a hand through his too-long hair. "What makes you think you're gay?"

"You," Dave answered immediately, then blushed. "I - I'm sorry. This is really awkward now, isn't it? I just...you're kind of beautiful and... I can't believe I just said that." He blushed furiously, turning away.

Kurt sat for a moment, absorbing everything Dave had babbled, before taking the hockey player's face in his small hands and turning him back to face him. "Hey, it's okay. Just... I don't quite understand."

Dave laughed under his breath, putting his hands over Kurt's on his own face. "You. You're beautiful. And brave. And smart and funny and gorgeous and adorable, and Jesus Christ. I was so jealous of you. You're the one that made me doubt my supposed hetereosexuality. You're the one with the pinkest, fullest lips I've ever seen on a guy and the tightest jeans and the absolute best ass I've ever seen on anyone. Jesus, Kurt. Do you have any idea what you do to me?" By the end of his rant, Dave was speaking softly and Kurt had leaned closer to hear.

"I...Dave, I had no idea." It was the only thing he could think of to say. "I didn't mean to...to upset you. However unintentionally. I'm sorry that you're not comfortable with who you are, but - "

"I'd come out for you," he said abruptly.

Kurt was stunned. "What?"

"I...if we were together. If you went out with me, I'd come out for you." Dave looked down, where his hands were clasped together so tightly that his knuckles were white. He looked a little ill.

"Dave, I can't. Not yet. Not right now. Just...give me some time and I...maybe. Maybe we can. We could try being friends first, you know? That'd be nice. I don't know much about you but...maybe when I get stable again. And can actually eat a piece of cake without breaking down and crying. I need time to get better once I get out of here. Get used to being Kurt Hummel again, not Kurt-the-boy-with-anorexia. Can you give me time?"

Dave looked at him with such intensity that Kurt was scared to try and find what emotion it was. "Yeah, Kurt. You have all the time in the world." He took Kurt's face in his hands and darted a glance at his mouth before leaning forward slowly to press their mouths together;

It was a really nice kiss, chaste as it was. When Kurt pulled back, Dave looked shocked. Like he hadn't expected it to be like it was. They both licked their lips reflexively.

"When are you coming home?" Dave asked quietly.

"Tomorrow." Kurt looked down, twisting his thin fingers together. "I'll be on a strict diet regime for a while, and I have to take antidepressants and a sleep aid, but...I'll be home tomorrow."

"Can I come see you?"

Kurt looked up, startled. "I...yeah. That would be nice. Really nice."

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow then, Kurt." Dave stood to leave, giving Kurt a lingering kiss on the mouth before walking out and leaving the boy stunned.