Chapter 3.

After the drunken incident, Kurt notes that Karofsky doesn't say more than a single-worded response to him for the subsequent two days. But past this point, the bully decides to ask one minor thing:

"So… you're going somewhere?"

Kurt pauses as he fixes his hair in the bathroom mirror, turning his gaze to Karofsky's reflection in the background of Kurt's own. He turns and leans against the sink to face where his roommate stands, leaning with his back against the door, his legs together and his hands in his pant pockets.

"Yes, I am," Kurt retorts stiffly. "I'm meeting a friend halfway; they attend Dayton U, and that's a bit of a drive. Forty-nine miles, actually. With traffic, that can take at least an hour, at okay speeds. Which is why we're decided to meet part of the way," he explains.

"It's Blaine, isn't it?" Karofsky doesn't even hesitate to add.

Kurt bristles, the hairs on his skin raising a tad. "Yes…" he admits slowly, cautiously, so not to set the other off. He swears that Karofsky might be bipolar or something. "He was my best friend at Dalton. I miss him. It's not a sin to miss someone."

Dave tenses. "Actually, it can be a sin when you're missing a crush, and that crush happens to be another dude." And this is true for more than merely Kurt; after Kurt left McKinley… part of Karofsky missed him, the part that Karofsky doesn't want to admit is even him at all; the part of him that is undeniably gay and craving Kurt Hummel, and has been for a few years now, slowly building. But nothing at all like love; no. Only unadulterated lust, and it's carnivorous and disgusting and Dave only wishes he could dispose of the feelings.

Precisely like how he wants not to feel the green-eyed monster currently tearing him up inside as he watches as Kurt's face hardens.

"I used to have a crush on him, yes, until he and I came to the conclusion that we work best as friends since we're too similar for any romantic chemistry," Kurt throws back tersely. "Not that it matters, especially not to you. But even then, it's no sin, Karofsky, to miss somebody, homosexual feelings attached or not. So I'm going to go visit my friend, catch up on things since graduation, and then be back late tonight. I think you can handle being on your own; unless of course your caveman instincts to set the cave on fire are too strong and I need to stay behind and look after you," he tacks onto the end, turning sharply around to finish up his hair before breezing past the teen he's talking to.

Dave clenches his hands in his pockets into fists when Kurt passes in front of him back into the main room. He slides against the door until he rounds a corner, able to continue facing Kurt as the other boy flits about the room picking up his wallet, his car and dorm room keys, and then, finally, sitting on his bed to put on his high tops, fashionably rolling the back end down and folding the tongue over his colorful, custom laces.

Dave doesn't want to admit that he would like Kurt to stay, if only to keep him away from his Mr. Perfect-for-a-"best-friend."

"Whatever, Hummel. Go ahead and gay it up with your Dalton pal for all I care. I'll just be on the Xbox all day." And to prove his point, he gets up from his spot on the wall and plops down on the end of his bed, controller in hand, as he turns on the gaming console.

"Fine by me," Kurt answers coldly as he heads for the door. He opens it and sticks out one foot before stopping in his tracks. "But Karofsky? Can you not go out and get drunk again? I'd rather not have to clean the bathroom for a third time this week, thank you."

Offended, Karofsky sneers with purposeful grace to his word choice, "I'll try to refrain from the temptation of alcohol consumption just for you, Hummel."

And Kurt doesn't have anything to say to this, so he simply slams the door behind him and storms off to his car in a terribly dreadful mood.

XXX

Interstate highway 75 runs through both Cincinnati and Dayton, and nearly perfectly in the center between the two cities is a town suitably and ironically called Middletown. Kurt and Blaine planned to meet up at a Boarders there, since bookstores are something they both enjoy for both the atmosphere, coffee, and, obviously, the cute boys – er, rather, the books. The books, not the adorably geeky emo boys who read them. No, of course not. Just the books.

"Aw, look at him! Isn't he a dear? He must be, what, fifteen at the least? And he has an eyebrow piercing. How quaint," Kurt smiles as he sits with Blaine at a set of black chairs in a corner, three walls of books keeping them from view.

"He hides behind all that hair, though. He actually has a really nice face," Blaine comments idly, also smiling minutely. "I like his jaw line. And his nose is adorable."

"Agreed," Kurt giggles. He then turns to face Blaine, sighing loudly. "But enough ogling. Let's get down to business. How have you been, Blaine? Your roommate, class schedule, everything? I'm curious. Well, that, and chatting with Mercedes and Tina on the phone for the past two days hearing about their stories has gotten old, and sadly pretty quickly." A pout forms on his mouth. "And wait 'til it's my turn, and I tell you all about my own rooming experiences."

"Oh, dear. I can already tell that you have quite the story up your sleeve. But that's all the more reason for me to go first, eh? Well," Blaine begins, cracking his knuckles indolently, "I have the absolute sweetest roommate. His name is Jesse and he's very… out there… but he's kind to me and he seems a little bi-curious, which works for me."

"Wait," Kurt frowns, thinking aloud, "What's the rest of his name?"

"St. James," Blaine responds fluidly. "Jesse St. James."

Kurt can't contain the slack-jaw, saucer-eyed moment he has. After blinking and slamming his jaw closed with an audible click of his teeth, Kurt shakes his head, eyes closing. "You've got to be kidding me. Jesse, kind and sweet? Jesse, attending Dayton? And furthermore, Jesse, who dated Rachel Berry for a while, being bi-curious? Oh, this is too much." And he shakes his head, letting slip a bubble of laughter.

Blaine is staring at Kurt questioningly, one triangular brow raised. "You know him?"

Kurt facepalms dramatically. "A bit, yes. It's a long story for another time. Anyway, you may continue."

Blaine shrugs, squaring his shoulders. "As I was saying, I like my roommate, and he and I seem to get along since we're both slightly attention-whoreish. It's an odd balance we have, but it works. He's shown me around a bit, having checked out Dayton frequently over the summer and the summer before. We have some of the same classes, which, by the way, I selected so that all of them fall between the comfortable hours of nine in the morning and five in the evening. It works out splendidly." He folds his laced hands in his lap. "What about you, Kurt? By the look on your face, I'm assuming that your arrangement is just the opposite."

"Got that right," Kurt mutters under his breath. He sighs tragically. "Unlike you, I don't get along with my roommate. In fact, I hate his guts, and he clearly has stated that he feels the same, despite the fact that he's kissed me in the past."

"Wait… kissed you? And you hate him? This doesn't mean –"

"Oh, but Blaine my friend, it does. I'm rooming with the one and only David Karofsky, the same tormentor I tried to escape by going to Dalton Academy with you." He brings his knees up to his chest – an impressive feat, considering the fact that he's wearing skinny jeans – and plants his forehead against them. "I don't like it one bit. I tried to switch him out, especially for a girl – it would be lovely to have a living arrangement akin to Will and Grace on the TV show with the same name – but no, it seems that I'm doomed to stick it out with intolerable Karofsky." And he spits the name like poison from his mouth.

Blaine sucks in air. "Ooh, ouch." He lays a comforting hand on Kurt's shoulder and soothingly rubs his tense muscles with one hand. "I'm so sorry, Kurt. I wish I could help, but I'm out of my league with that one."

Kurt leans into his friend's touch and pouts, "I know. Thanks, though. Your sentiments are enough. And…" an odd smile touches Kurt's lips as he glances over at the private-college boy, "I think I don't even need your 'courage' this time. I feel like I can handle this, as rough as it might be, since this time, Karofsky doesn't seem to feel the need to abuse me, since he has no image to uphold in Cincinnati."

"That's the spirit," Blaine encourages.

And Kurt feels a lot better about himself suddenly; enough to drop one of his legs back onto the carpeted floor. But there's just one last thing that's bothering him… He nibbles on his bottom lip and murmurs, "Blaine?"

"Yeah?" the older boy smiles.

"There's one other thing," Kurt admits softly.

Blaine's face takes on a worried expression. He places a hand over one of Kurt's hands. "What's wrong?"

"I… had a dream about him last night. Karofsky. It was the strangest thing… We were back at McKinley, in the hallway, but no one else was around. He didn't have his letterman on like he should have, which I found strange. He stepped up close to me, and I thought he was going to punch me in the gut when he raised a hand between us. He kept staring at me. I couldn't move for some reason, too, which didn't help the situation any. And then he… touched me. Instead of giving me pain like I expected of him, he simply reached out and stroked idly down my wrist where I had my hand raised to my lips. And then he leaned in and whispered my name in my ear before turning sharply on his heel and walking away." He shakes his head. "I don't understand it. What do you think it could mean, Blaine?"

Blaine's brows come together as he ponders this. He removes his hand with a short pat, and then looks out at nothing in particular. The black-haired boy then shrugs. "I'm not entirely sure. But my guess is that your subconscious is trying to tell you that Karofsky's intentions aren't all bad, and that you should give him a chance. Just let him be himself; try not to upset him. See what he's like." He smiles. "Sound agreeable?"

Kurt blows air out his mouth. "I suppose…"

"Good. Now then," he says with a clap and a rub of his hands, "Shall I treat you to a manicure?"

The other boy grins. "That would be lovely, thank you."

XXX

Kurt winds up cutting his time with Blaine short. He arrives back at his dorm room around what he remembers to be his usual dinnertime at home. As he slips into the room, he can smell pizza – there's a half-eaten box lying on a pop-up TV stand near the Neanderthal's bed. But this isn't unusual.

What is unusual is that, just as Kurt walks in the door, he hears the bathroom near him suddenly have the water turn on in the shower, and as it runs for about a minute, Kurt hears the wafting of music muffled behind the bathroom door. Karofsky is singing. In the shower. And he sounds… well, pretty damn talented.

Kurt gapes at the bathroom door as he lingers just outside of it, the dorm room door closing behind him. He blinks, staring, and tentatively leans in closer, touching a hand to the wood as he places his ear against it.

Karofsky has a low, alluring tone to his voice, nearly like a crooner, despite the fact that he's singing a rock song of some sort that Kurt swears he's heard leaking from Finn's or Puck's headphones before. The lyrics, as far as Kurt can tell, sound like this as Karofsky sings them:

I can be as humble as the next guy,
Or I can blink and make you crumble from the inside.
I could be every nasty thing you ever dreamt a man could be…I'm what you've always wanted…

Cause they all fall down.
Cause they all fall down.

I can make you see the beauty of a new sun,
Or I can be the source of your desperation;
I could be every nasty thing you ever dreamt a man could be…

Jaded, dated, I'm the type you hated;
Haunted, taunted, I'm what you've always wanted!
Yeah, yeah…

You can turn away like you don't even see me,
Yeah, you can smile like you got something I need.
But every night you go home alone
And dream about being underneath me!

And Kurt suddenly backs away from the door, because, oh Gaga, he prays that Karofsky isn't singing about him. Because if he is, Kurt doesn't even want to know how much truth Karofsky thinks he hears in those lyrics.

But it doesn't stop there.

Karofsky suddenly switches melodies, the lyrics shifting to a different song Kurt thinks is of the same band. And this time Karofsky sings the entire song, not pausing for additional choruses or musical interludes to hum like he had with the last.

The fastest man in the world, fast asleep at the wheel.
Nobody wants to be alone, so how did I get here?
When I look at you, I see him staring through.
A wink and a smile, cause he's been inside of you –
Is he all the things you tried to change me into?
Is he everything to you?

Does he make you high, make you real?
Does he make you cry? Does he know the way you feel?
Love is all around you, your universe is full;
But in my world, there is only you…

I can still find your smell
On my clothes and skin.
I can still see your face

When you're sleeping next to him –
Is he all the things you tried to change me into?
Tell me does he…

I've had enough of fears – you let them out!
Now I wrap myself around you
Like a blanket full of doubt.
The darkness grows!
The sunlight stings!
He's your everything

You make me high! You make me real!
You make me cry! Now you know the way I feel.
Love is all around you, your universe is full…
But in my world… there is only you.

And Kurt is a little more than sick to his stomach. He stumbles over to his bed and plops down on it, the singing and running water ceasing. Kurt curls up on his bed, because he doesn't want to think that Karofsky had just been singing about himself, Kurt, and Blaine, but the ill feeling that he had been singing about as much makes Kurt's head swim.

When Dave comes out of the bathroom, he stops dead. He blinks, staring. "You're… back early, Hummel," he remarks with a hint of surprise, a towel around his waist. Apparently, he doesn't bring his clothes into the bathroom to change into when he thinks he's going to be alone for a few hours.

Kurt adverts his eyes and stares at the pattern on his comforter instead. "I felt tired, so I came back," he offers, because he doesn't want Karofsky to think Kurt came back early because Blaine bored him or they had a disagreement or something, because that's not what happened at all, but he knows Karofsky loves to jump to conclusions unless Kurt says something.

"Oh. Okay," Karofsky mumbles, gathering up some loungewear in his hand, the other holding up his towel self-consciously.

Kurt's already seen his roommate shirtless before, but never from the front. It's difficult to keep his eyes from drifting, because either Karofsky ways always hiding pecs like those under his letterman jacket or he's developed them recently, after Kurt went to Dalton. Either way, they're there and distracting. And it doesn't help any that Karofsky's stomach is relatively flat, even though no muscles are visible, because Kurt knows that they're there, and –

Wait, is he seriously checking out David Karofsky? The concept is so wrong in so many different ways that Kurt forces it out of his mind and closes his eyes instead, curling up further on his side atop the sheets of his perfectly made bed.

I can't help it if I notice a guy's body, no matter who he is, Kurt tells himself. Girls do the same thing, and guys, too, to girls. It happens.

Dave retreats to the bathroom, slipping into his clothes, some of the fabric sticking to the sweat and lotion on his skin. He feels too warm all of a sudden, the bathroom too stuffy. Once he's dressed, he ruffles his hair with his towel and drops it in the hamper, then proceeds back into the room to drop down onto his bed.

He glances over at the pizza he ordered. "Um… are you hungry, Hummel? You can have some of this if you want," Dave mumbles unsurely.

Kurt shakes his head, still facing away from his roommate. "Not hungry, thanks. Still full from a mochiato I had."

"Oh. Okay," Karofsky mumbles, and has a déjà vu moment. Hadn't he said this already? He clears his throat uncomfortably. "When… when did you come in?" he poses, feeling defensive. He needs to know if Kurt heard him singing; he hates it when people hear him sing, which is one of the reasons why he detested Glee Club and never joined it: because he hated that other people with talent could boast and brag and show off their skills while Dave always stood in the background. But it was his own fault and he knows it, which only makes him angrier.

"In time to hear you singing, if that's what you're implying," Kurt retorts awkwardly. He shifts into sitting position, his legs pretzeled, as his gaze returns to Karofsky's face. "Why? Was it something I shouldn't have heard?" Because Kurt is thinking about those lyrics, and what they could mean…

Oddly enough, Dave blushes a shade pinker on his generally rogue, post-shower cheeks. "Yeah, actually. I hate it when people know that I sing. I swear, if you tell anyone –"

And Kurt's a little relieved, because hopefully this means that Karofsky had been singing because he liked the songs and not because the music meant anything in specific. He exhales gently through his nose. "Don't worry, Karofsky, your secret talents are safe with me." He pauses. "You actually sounded pretty good, you know. Good enough to have been in Glee. Why didn't you ever try out? Was it too lame for you?"

"Duhh," Dave snorts. "That's exactly why. Glee Club is for losers, outcasts with no other talents besides making their voices stretched and high-pitched."

"Is that all you think singing is?" Kurt snaps in return. "And the other statement you made is a lie, too; plenty of the Glee members at McKinley had other talents. Half of them were from the football team, for cripes sake!"

"I know that! I was just generalizing!" Dave shoots back ferociously, once again on the defense. He sighs gruffly though his mouth and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I don't want to get into this right now." And he simply turns around and starts putting the pizza away in the fridge with some tin foil Kurt magically remembered to purchase and bring (that guy thinks of everything, Dave vaguely thinks with wonder).

"Well, neither do I, but it seems to always come down to this: no matter what conversation we engage in, it escalates into an outright argument." Kurt huffs, flopping back down onto his bed and narrowing his eyes up at the ceiling. "You're… despicable."

"Thanks, Daffy Duck," Dave snorts. "But I already knew that I'm des-thick-uh-bull," he sounds out, using a lisp like the famous Looney Tune. He turns to his Xbox, wondering if he should turn it on and play or not, if only to get his mind off of things.

"You…!" Kurt starts, sitting up again. He then shakes his head. "No. No. I'm not going to do this with you. I'm just going to shut up and listen to my iPod." And with an exaggerated motion, he swipes his music player off the shelf and compartment unit attachment to his standard headboard. He stuffs his SkullCandy headphones onto his ears and blasts the music, something random he had been playing before. It sounds like Alicia Keys, but he really isn't in the mood for her, so he goes shuffling through his iTunes library on the device until he locates something that suits his sour mood better.

Meanwhile, Dave is shaking his head at the other boy's antics. He flips on the Xbox after all, aiming to cut up some zombies with a chainsaw in Left 4 Dead 2.

Stupid Hummel, he thinks.

Idiotic Karofsky, the other thinks.

Seriously, how is this ever going to work?

A/N: The songs are (first): 'They All Fall Down' and (second) 'My World,' both by SR-71. C: