no thanks, i'm full
Title: no thanks, i'm full
Pairing: Kurt, Dave
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,551
Summary: Dave Karofsky wonders what he can do to make Kurt notice him
Spoilers/Warnings: Never Been Kissed
Disclaimer: Obviously not mine, if it was up to me, I'd make Kurtofsky obviously obviously canon, and Dave less hurty.
Dave goes straight home after last period, blowing off offers by Azimio to go somewhere. On his way out he sees Hummel standing idly in front of his locker. He takes this opportunity to keep him quiet. "You tell anyone?" he finds himself asking the smaller teen, "About how you...you kissed me?" Next thing he knows is he's shushing the kid up and threatening to kill him if he tells anyone. When he's sure the look on Hummel's face shows that what he's saying has sunk in, he walks straight ahead.
In his room, he looks at himself in the mirror, having shucked his letterman jacket off and thrown it on his desk. He peers at his reflection, running his warm but damp hand across his face. Dave notices that his jaw line isn't as defined as it probably should be (he thinks this when he runs his finger on the bone of his jaw, underneath that all that fat), feels the sweat from the palm of his hands leaving a trail on his face. He gets frustrated and rubs a palm across his face and up into his short hair.
"Yeah. I don't dig on chubby boys who sweat too much and are gonna be bald by the time they're 30," he remembers Kurt saying, wide-eyed and indignant, spitting the words at him. He takes off his shirt and checks the expanse of his chest across the mirror, and while running his palm over his chest and arms, his stomach, in that idle moment he finds himself asking the question, "if I lost enough weight, would Kurt Hummel be even remotely interested in me?"
He doesn't realize he's pondering the question until he hears his mother call him for dinner. "Dave! Dinner," his mom shouts in that tired voice, like all she cared about was getting dinner out of the way so they could all do whatever the hell they were doing before dinner.
Dinner's the usual--large servings of mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, steak if he's not mistaken, and some vegetables he pointedly ignores. He's never been the vegetable type; his first (and last) brush with greens was when he was 10 during some family barbecue. One of his aunts, the only one in the family who dressed like a hippie from those 70's posters, (she called herself an artist and a lesbian feminist) waved him over and told him to try the leaf that was perching precariously on the edge of her fork. It looked half-soggy and Dave wasn't sure if he wanted to eat the whole leaf, but she insisted--to disastrous results. He ate the bitter salad leaf and being unused to the taste, gagged and threw up in the bushes.
He remembers that aunt, they called her Aunt Molly. Nobody in the family really talks about her anymore, and he never saw her after that last family party. If they do talk about her, words like "abomination" or "abnormal" are thrown in the conversation. He didn't use to get why they didn't like her, but now? After kissing Kurt Hummel and having to face the fact that he wanted that boy so bad he’d do anything he can to see him every single day? He kind of got why his family didn’t like his kind.
"More?" his mom pushes the half-full plate of mashed potatoes to him. "You've barely eaten," she says, which is a huge understatement. In the past few minutes he's eaten a whole steak, almost half of the macaroni and cheese, and a huge pile of mashed potatoes. His family seems unfazed by the amount of food he's eaten however, and his dad grunts, "and eat some vegetables too," as he finishes the rest of the macaroni. He suddenly feels nauseous. "No thanks," he says slowly, pushing his plate away. "I'm full," is the last thing he says, and he throws his table napkin and cutlery on the table, dashes off to his room.
His last thoughts before falling asleep (his breathing hard, trying really hard not to throw up in his room) is that everything is his parents' fault--the homophobia, the fuck-up that is his life, his sweating, his chubbiness, and the reason why he can't have who he wants. He thinks maybe he should give trying to get who he wants a try.
The next day at school, he only eats lunch, and a small serving. When Azimio calls him out on it, asking "you sick or something man?" he just gives some excuse about not feeling well. He still goes to hockey practice, and occasionally football (not a sport he likes that much) but manages to eat little, if not nothing at lunch. When he gets home, he just gets the smallest portion from dinner possible, or if he can he just locks himself up in his room claiming, "homework," to his mom when she knocks on his door for dinner time.
He does this for a week, then two weeks, and he's starting to get used to the dizziness. At practice he goes and does all the drills, but he's started lifting lighter weights--and never with anyone around the weights room. He finds himself always waiting for Hudson, Evans or Puckerman to just get the fuck out of the room so he can start lifting. Nobody notices the weight-loss. Of course, it's not like he expected anyone to help him through this--the want to look better, the twisted want for this boy, the fact that he has no idea what he's doing anymore and he feels weak, so damn weak.
He's stopped checking Hummel into walls and lockers not because he's had a change of heart, but because he's too tired to even move. And it's not like the boy looks at him at all nowadays. If before Hummel saw him 10 feet away, like he had an internal alarm for the impending force that was Dave, now he just ignored him, like Dave didn't even exist. That sucks more than Hummel being just afraid of him, he finds himself thinking after one particularly grueling hockey practice, as he clambers into his truck and breathes carefully, nausea fighting its way up his throat.
Dave turns the ignition on and drives towards the Hummel residence. He's the first one to ever know where Kurt lived--hell, he'd been the one to tell the other jocks where he lived, and if they asked why he knew, all he'd say was "because I saw it in the school records when I was in Figgin's office," and not because one time, he followed the boy all the way home, to see if Kurt’s life was any different from his.
Now he watches through the window of his truck as he sees him walking around his house, can hear him relaxed and singing the strains of some song he's never heard before, can hear the kitchen faucet being turned on and off, the sunset indicating dinner time.
It's been a month since he started...eating less. Dave always thought he'd just shed a few pounds, then try to concentrate on looking better, then since he hadn't even talked to Hummel (in effect, not threatening to kill him anymore) he could re-try and get a fresh start, sort of.
Today Dave wakes up with a nasty headache, cottonmouth and a grumbling stomach. He ignores breakfast and drives to school. In the halls he sees Kurt and that black chick he's always with. He just tries to look at Kurt as fast as he can without being obvious, and walks towards his class.
"You see that boy?" Mercedes asks Kurt, who is shoving books into his bags like there's no tomorrow. "Boy's so damn thin and weak, it looks like you could push him over and he'd break in half," She starts. "I wonder what got into him?" Mercedes muses out loud. "Well don't ask me," Kurt starts, looking at the jock amble almost aimlessly through the crowd. And it is true, Karofsky's almost as thin as him now, and he's always noticed that the guy spaces out nowadays, doesn't even push him around, or talk to him at all. The least he does is look at him, almost like he's lost and doesn't know what's going on. Kurt isn't blind. He's noticed that Karofsky hasn't showed up in the lunchroom for at least a month since the last time he threatened to murder him, and he's sure as hell noticed the beat-up truck parked a few times outside his house.
He's not sure if he should feel bad, but something inside his guts twists painfully, and he thinks that maybe this is some twisted way the Neanderthal shows his interest, and he can't help but feel like this is his fault, like he's given the confused kid more issues to deal with, and--"Well aren't we going to go?" Mercedes asks him a little irritably. "Yes," Kurt says, and in the lack of anything to say just nods and walks away with her.
He looks behind him to catch the formerly larger boy lean against the wall, clench his eyes shut and breathe deeply. Kurt knows it's his fault, and damn it, but revenge does not feel good, not like this.
Pairing: Kurt, Dave
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,551
Summary: Dave Karofsky wonders what he can do to make Kurt notice him
Spoilers/Warnings: Never Been Kissed
Disclaimer: Obviously not mine, if it was up to me, I'd make Kurtofsky obviously obviously canon, and Dave less hurty.
Dave goes straight home after last period, blowing off offers by Azimio to go somewhere. On his way out he sees Hummel standing idly in front of his locker. He takes this opportunity to keep him quiet. "You tell anyone?" he finds himself asking the smaller teen, "About how you...you kissed me?" Next thing he knows is he's shushing the kid up and threatening to kill him if he tells anyone. When he's sure the look on Hummel's face shows that what he's saying has sunk in, he walks straight ahead.
In his room, he looks at himself in the mirror, having shucked his letterman jacket off and thrown it on his desk. He peers at his reflection, running his warm but damp hand across his face. Dave notices that his jaw line isn't as defined as it probably should be (he thinks this when he runs his finger on the bone of his jaw, underneath that all that fat), feels the sweat from the palm of his hands leaving a trail on his face. He gets frustrated and rubs a palm across his face and up into his short hair.
"Yeah. I don't dig on chubby boys who sweat too much and are gonna be bald by the time they're 30," he remembers Kurt saying, wide-eyed and indignant, spitting the words at him. He takes off his shirt and checks the expanse of his chest across the mirror, and while running his palm over his chest and arms, his stomach, in that idle moment he finds himself asking the question, "if I lost enough weight, would Kurt Hummel be even remotely interested in me?"
He doesn't realize he's pondering the question until he hears his mother call him for dinner. "Dave! Dinner," his mom shouts in that tired voice, like all she cared about was getting dinner out of the way so they could all do whatever the hell they were doing before dinner.
Dinner's the usual--large servings of mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, steak if he's not mistaken, and some vegetables he pointedly ignores. He's never been the vegetable type; his first (and last) brush with greens was when he was 10 during some family barbecue. One of his aunts, the only one in the family who dressed like a hippie from those 70's posters, (she called herself an artist and a lesbian feminist) waved him over and told him to try the leaf that was perching precariously on the edge of her fork. It looked half-soggy and Dave wasn't sure if he wanted to eat the whole leaf, but she insisted--to disastrous results. He ate the bitter salad leaf and being unused to the taste, gagged and threw up in the bushes.
He remembers that aunt, they called her Aunt Molly. Nobody in the family really talks about her anymore, and he never saw her after that last family party. If they do talk about her, words like "abomination" or "abnormal" are thrown in the conversation. He didn't use to get why they didn't like her, but now? After kissing Kurt Hummel and having to face the fact that he wanted that boy so bad he’d do anything he can to see him every single day? He kind of got why his family didn’t like his kind.
"More?" his mom pushes the half-full plate of mashed potatoes to him. "You've barely eaten," she says, which is a huge understatement. In the past few minutes he's eaten a whole steak, almost half of the macaroni and cheese, and a huge pile of mashed potatoes. His family seems unfazed by the amount of food he's eaten however, and his dad grunts, "and eat some vegetables too," as he finishes the rest of the macaroni. He suddenly feels nauseous. "No thanks," he says slowly, pushing his plate away. "I'm full," is the last thing he says, and he throws his table napkin and cutlery on the table, dashes off to his room.
His last thoughts before falling asleep (his breathing hard, trying really hard not to throw up in his room) is that everything is his parents' fault--the homophobia, the fuck-up that is his life, his sweating, his chubbiness, and the reason why he can't have who he wants. He thinks maybe he should give trying to get who he wants a try.
The next day at school, he only eats lunch, and a small serving. When Azimio calls him out on it, asking "you sick or something man?" he just gives some excuse about not feeling well. He still goes to hockey practice, and occasionally football (not a sport he likes that much) but manages to eat little, if not nothing at lunch. When he gets home, he just gets the smallest portion from dinner possible, or if he can he just locks himself up in his room claiming, "homework," to his mom when she knocks on his door for dinner time.
He does this for a week, then two weeks, and he's starting to get used to the dizziness. At practice he goes and does all the drills, but he's started lifting lighter weights--and never with anyone around the weights room. He finds himself always waiting for Hudson, Evans or Puckerman to just get the fuck out of the room so he can start lifting. Nobody notices the weight-loss. Of course, it's not like he expected anyone to help him through this--the want to look better, the twisted want for this boy, the fact that he has no idea what he's doing anymore and he feels weak, so damn weak.
He's stopped checking Hummel into walls and lockers not because he's had a change of heart, but because he's too tired to even move. And it's not like the boy looks at him at all nowadays. If before Hummel saw him 10 feet away, like he had an internal alarm for the impending force that was Dave, now he just ignored him, like Dave didn't even exist. That sucks more than Hummel being just afraid of him, he finds himself thinking after one particularly grueling hockey practice, as he clambers into his truck and breathes carefully, nausea fighting its way up his throat.
Dave turns the ignition on and drives towards the Hummel residence. He's the first one to ever know where Kurt lived--hell, he'd been the one to tell the other jocks where he lived, and if they asked why he knew, all he'd say was "because I saw it in the school records when I was in Figgin's office," and not because one time, he followed the boy all the way home, to see if Kurt’s life was any different from his.
Now he watches through the window of his truck as he sees him walking around his house, can hear him relaxed and singing the strains of some song he's never heard before, can hear the kitchen faucet being turned on and off, the sunset indicating dinner time.
It's been a month since he started...eating less. Dave always thought he'd just shed a few pounds, then try to concentrate on looking better, then since he hadn't even talked to Hummel (in effect, not threatening to kill him anymore) he could re-try and get a fresh start, sort of.
Today Dave wakes up with a nasty headache, cottonmouth and a grumbling stomach. He ignores breakfast and drives to school. In the halls he sees Kurt and that black chick he's always with. He just tries to look at Kurt as fast as he can without being obvious, and walks towards his class.
"You see that boy?" Mercedes asks Kurt, who is shoving books into his bags like there's no tomorrow. "Boy's so damn thin and weak, it looks like you could push him over and he'd break in half," She starts. "I wonder what got into him?" Mercedes muses out loud. "Well don't ask me," Kurt starts, looking at the jock amble almost aimlessly through the crowd. And it is true, Karofsky's almost as thin as him now, and he's always noticed that the guy spaces out nowadays, doesn't even push him around, or talk to him at all. The least he does is look at him, almost like he's lost and doesn't know what's going on. Kurt isn't blind. He's noticed that Karofsky hasn't showed up in the lunchroom for at least a month since the last time he threatened to murder him, and he's sure as hell noticed the beat-up truck parked a few times outside his house.
He's not sure if he should feel bad, but something inside his guts twists painfully, and he thinks that maybe this is some twisted way the Neanderthal shows his interest, and he can't help but feel like this is his fault, like he's given the confused kid more issues to deal with, and--"Well aren't we going to go?" Mercedes asks him a little irritably. "Yes," Kurt says, and in the lack of anything to say just nods and walks away with her.
He looks behind him to catch the formerly larger boy lean against the wall, clench his eyes shut and breathe deeply. Kurt knows it's his fault, and damn it, but revenge does not feel good, not like this.