Aftermath
Title: Aftermath
Characters/Pairings: Kurt/Karofsky (one-sided & foreshadowing)
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 (swearing/derogatory terms)
Spoilers: Never Been Kissed episode
Disclaimer: I do not own glee or any of the characters, believe me things would be going a lot differently if I did.
Summary: AU from NBK Kurt wasn’t sure how he got here, here being the boys’ locker room with his tormentor crying into his expensive body length jumper.
Word Count: 4,979
Author’s Notes: Done for the song challenge at porcelain_fans My first time writing theses characters, little nervous about posting this but excited too. I would like to thank and send lots of hugs and cookies to the lovely got2luvmel who beta’d this for me.
Kurt wasn’t sure how he got here, here being the boys’ locker room with his tormentor crying into his expensive body length jumper. One part of his brain was already calculating how much the dry cleaning would cost to get the snot stains out. For the most part though, he was shell shocked. This was not how the fashionista had expected this to go down. Kurt was aware of the events that had transpired, leading them into this locker room, again, but he couldn’t place exactly when they’d fallen into this particular moment.
The desperate plant of Karofsky lips to his own had been the match to light the dynamite, pulling Kurt into the jock’s chaotic world of struggling sexuality. Considering the crying boy shaking on the floor, clinging onto him as if he was the only thing keeping him anchored to life itself, Kurt suspected this was all years in the making for Karofsky. The flame had obviously been burning ages before; the kiss was just the catalyst.
It’d taken Kurt a long time to recompose himself after Karofsky had stormed out of the locker room, a mass of emotions running through his veins. Time had seemed to blur. Nothing but the lingering tastes of crisps, pizza and something that Kurt suspected was unique to Karofsky alone, had been clear. Karofsky’s face all pent up with emotions would not leave his mind that night. The sound of his whimper kept replaying itself over and over, haunting his dreams.
Storming into school the next day, Kurt had been determined to confront the douchebag. You can refuse to be the victim. That’d been exactly what he'd prepared himself to do. Damn the meathead of a jock, damn him to hell! He was not going to fear him anymore, he refused to! He'd marched down the halls of McKinley high, lips pursed, eyes locked in a steely gaze with a tongue sharpened, ready to, quite literally, cut a bitch.
The sight of every letterman jacket had sparked fear and doubt but Kurt had composed himself, trying to ignore the vision of being smashed into a locker. Instead, he'd concentrated on keeping his bitch face on. To help keep himself in the zone he thought of how fugly that letterman jacket really was. I mean, were the sleeves yellow, white or puke stained? Who the hell knew!
Eventually Kurt’s target had come into view. The closeted bully had been casually walking down the hall, but when Karofsky caught sight of Kurt, he’d almost cowered. That flash of emotion reinforced Kurt’s belief that maybe; just maybe, the asshole was more human than even he’d have liked to believe. Using all the strength his small frame could muster, he'd grabbed Karofsky by the wrist and pulled him into the nearest room; which happened to be the locker room, how ironic.
He’d known Karofsky was more powerful than him, even in his current state of determinedness, and could easily pull away. However, it seemed the Neanderthal hadn’t wanted to escape, he hadn’t even pretended to struggle. A strange sense of déjà vu had hit Kurt when he’d furiously turned around to face his prey. The atmosphere of it prickled his porcelain skin, stringing emotions in the pit of his stomach. For a moment the fashionista had wanted to run, scraping the plan all together. In all honestly, what in the name of sweet gaga had he been doing? It was crazy; Charlie Sheen levels of madness.
“What the hell are you doing, Hummel!? You gone mad or somethin'?” Karofsky let out a noise that was supposed to be a laugh but the sound caught uncomfortably in his throat.
Kurt snapped out of himself, the Neanderthal was calling him mad; him, really, really! Anger pulsated through his veins, how bloody dare he? The bastard! “It’s me that should be asking you what the hell!”
“Don’t know what you’re talking 'bout, Fancy.” Karofsky shifted uncomfortably. Looking down at his feet, he shoved his hands into his pockets.
Kurt felt a spark of joy; he knew he had the upper hand and god did that feel good. It shouldn’t but damn it, it was nice to be the one holding the cards. “Cut the innocent act; you know exactly what I’m talking about!”
Karofsky's face whipped up, glaring at him, his eyes narrow and dangerous. Panic gurgled within Kurt when he noticed the material of the boy’s pockets scrunching up as he clenched his fists within them.
“Don’t talk to me like that!” Karofsky snapped; voice gruff.
The panic disappeared, replaced with white hot anger. Seriously, Kurt thought; Hamhock was bossing him about. As Mercedes would have said; hell to the no!
“Oh, I’m so sorry, here let me grovel at your feet,” Kurt mocked bowing down, ignoring the almost growl it evoked. Standing upright again he puffed out his chest. Angling his nose high in the air, he tilted his face to lock gazes with Karofsky. His cheeks where burning, body almost shaking with emotions. Karofsky clenched his teeth, glaring back with fire in his eyes. Kurt half expected to be thrown into a locker, punched or even kissed again. He wasn’t sure which one was more terrifying.
The tension built second after second, the air heating up. Kurt’s head began to fog up, the anticipation of things to come overbearing all other thoughts. Then suddenly, without warning, Karofsky let out a long sigh and shook his head. Pulling a hand out from his jacket pocket, he ran it threw his hair, tugging at the ends slightly. The heated atmosphere cooled rapidly.
“What do you want, Fancy?” Karofsky's voice was deflated, a vast contrast from the growl it’d been seconds earlier.
The change sent shivers through the smaller guy. Not having expected Karofsky to back down, Kurt was now forced to take a step back. What did he want? He wasn’t sure he even knew but he’d be damned if he let Hamhock know. Thinking on impulse he listed anything that sprung to mind.
“I want an apology! I want you to take back all the bruises and fear!” He practically spat the words up at the other boy’s face; surprisingly, Karofsky just stood there and took it.
“I want the hours and hours I spent getting those revolting slushy stains out of my clothes back!”
“I can’t do that,” Karofsky mumbled, so softly he barely heard him. The jock's eyes darted down to the floor as he tightened his jaw, but not in anger, more like…shame.
“No, you can’t!” Kurt shoved his arms across his chest tightly, eyes stone cold as he studied the other boy. “I doubt you even want to, in fact, you’re probably sorry you didn’t do more damage.”
Karofsky's head jolted, deep wrinkles appearing in between his brow as he frowned. “You really think that?”
Kurt had never heard the jock sound so, hurt. “Well, I am just a big fat homo aren’t I? I’m not worth the dirt under your feet, right? You hate me!”
“I…” Karofsky began to protest and then sighed letting his voice fade into nothing. Kurt quickly caught onto the meaning and smirked.
“Or maybe it’s because you like me!”
“No.” Karofsky’s delivery lacked all authority. Instead, it was weak, a desperate plea.
Kurt rejoiced; he really did have the jock between finger and thumb. “No? Why did you kiss me then?”
Karofsky's eyes flickered to the door, no doubt scared someone in the outside hall had heard. Kurt huffed and puffed, his cheeks were burning. In the back of his mind he cringed at the sight he must be, no doubt he was clashing horribly with the colour of his jumper.
“What, worried someone will find out?!” Kurt yelled louder, focussing all his energy into the fire of his rage. Karofsky's eyes darted to the door once more and then locked themselves on his, pleading silently.
“Scared someone will find out you’re just a big-”
“Don’t.” Karofsky used his most threatening tone.
Kurt was surprised and delighted that it did nothing to him anymore, not even a slight jolt of fear. It was probably due to the amount of adrenaline coursing through him, but he would take it. “Giant!”
“Please.”
The pleading didn’t work on him either; he was seeing red, almost blacked out in it. “Flaming…”
“STOP IT!” Slamming his fists against the nearest locker, Karofsky squeezed his eyes shut, wincing as the skin on his hand split and small traces of blood appeared.
Kurt recoiled at the sound, his body waiting for the pain that usually followed such a noise. It really was a wonder someone hadn’t burst into the room at that moment, they’d made enough of a racket. It seemed the walls of McKinley were as deaf as they were blind.
“Stop it,” Karofsky pleaded again, hands sliding down the metal to hang loosely by his side. “Stop, ‘m not.”
Kurt’s anger disappeared, drowned by the look on Karofsky’s face, the harsh heart-wrenching sigh of self-hatred. An overwhelming amount of sympathy flooded Kurt’s senses. Taking a few steps forward Kurt spoke the words he’d been thinking since the ‘incident’ yesterday.
“You’re gay.” His voice was soft, calm; all traces of his earlier rage had been blown away.
“Can’t be…” Karofsky mumbled into the cold steal, tears where forming in his eyes.
Kurt’s stomach clenched. “Yes you can be,” he gulped. “You are.”
Karofsky spun around, shadows dancing in his eyes, he looked haunted. “I’m a guy.”
Kurt coked an eyebrow. “And what exactly am I then? A ruddy duck!”
Karofksy shook his head, running both hands threw his hair and over his eyes trying to stop the tears that where starting to fall. “You know what I mean!”
Yes, Kurt knew but that didn’t stop him from rolling his eyes. “Just because you’re...” Karofsky's eyes closed, awaiting the blow of his next word. It was as if he was awaiting a knife to the chest.
Kurt sighed and changed tact. “Just because you feel the way you do, doesn’t make you're less of a guy, you’re still you.”
Letting out an almost hysterical laugh mixed with a deep sob, the other boy shook his head vigorously. “No you don’t get it, I can’t be! I’m a jock, I like sports. I hate fucking fashion. I eat pizza and junk food. I don’t give a flying fuck about skin products and other girly shit like that…I’m a MAN!” Karofsky gestured madly with his arms, pounding his chest by the end of his speech.
With his chest contracting painfully at the sight, Kurt bit his lip unable to move. He watched silently as Karofsky kept banging himself, the resounding thuds echoing around the locker room.
“You don’t understand, they would never…m’parents, school, the guys, Az…o god Az!” Karofsky's hands flew to his head, clutching at it between his palms. He pushed hard, Kurt feared he might crush his skull; brains did not go with his look.
“He’d hate him; he’d HATE ME and they’d never, never see me as me…I wouldn’t…I’d just be a fag. Just another fucking fag!”
The boy's face had turned red from shouting. Overwhelmed by the strain of his emotions, Karofsky dropped onto his knees; thumping himself again. It was as if he believed he could pound the gay out. Tears streamed uncontrollably, dripping down his cheeks and pooling at his collarbone. Kurt sucked in air, his mind working overtime as he was forced to rearrange his entire perception of his tormenter.
Although the fiery anger he held for the Neanderthal had not disappeared entirely, one didn’t get over the shit Karofsky had done that quickly; it was now smothered with sympathy and understanding.
A thousand emotions swirled inside him as Karofsky chocked out on a voice broken and weak. “I…I…I…caaa…can’t…do this.”
Kurt drew his bottom lip threw his teeth, his own eyes filling with water. Silent tears
slipped down his cheeks. Karofsky was more fucked up than he’d ever imagined. Although he knew no one would blame him for leaving the bully to deal with his own issues alone, Kurt knew he’d never be able to live with it.
Reaching out towards the kneeling figure, he placed a soft hand to his head. Karofsky launched forward, grabbing at the material of his jumper and burying his face into the soft material covering his abdomen. Tilting to compensate for the extra weight, they swayed on the spot a little.
At first Kurt stood rigid, one hand still resting on Karofsky's head, the other hovering mid air. Then as Karofsky convulsed and his muffled sobs reached his ears, he relaxed. Lowering his hovering hand, he placed it against the larger boy’s shoulders blades, rubbing soft circles into his back.
Yesterday if someone had told him he’d be holding a crying Karofsky, actually wanting to comfort the person who practically made his life hell, Kurt would have laughed and, more than likely, made some bitchy comment about someone smoking too much weed. But now, well, it was like they were in a different universe. Karofsky wasn’t a despicable bully but just a boy dealing with something so much bigger than a young life ought to.
Bullying and shoving people into lockers had not been the best way to deal with his feelings, that was a given, but it didn’t change the fact Karofsky, despite all his bravado, was still just a kid, scared of the desires inside himself.
Shouldn’t he, the only one who could possibly understand any of that, at least try to help?
What decent human being could stand by and just watch someone release this amount of emotion and not do anything? Whatever kind of person could, Kurt was positive he didn’t want to be anything like them.
Clutching Karofsky closer, he hushed out soothing sounds. Automatically the hold around his waist increased. “It’s going to be okay.”
“S’not, I don’t want to be here!” Dave murmured, shaking his head.
The vibrations of his voice melted through the material of Kurt's jumper causing his skin to prickle. The fingertips buried in fabric pulled downwards, no doubt, stretching the material; he, for once, didn’t care. Well, not that much anyway. The uncensored anguish in Karofsky’s voice made it nearly impossible to care about material things. “It is, David! I’ll help you,” Kurt choked out through the lump in his throat.
Karofsky loosened his grip. Pulling back he looked up and with bloodshot eyes into Kurt’s face, lashes glistening with tears. “You, you, called me David.” He hiccupped, wiping away fresh tears with the back of his palm.
Kurt looked down frowning, had he? He played back his own words and realised, yes, he had. It was odd; he never even thought of the boy as anything but Karofsky, but David seemed somehow right now.
Karofsky wasn’t Karofsky anymore, not to Kurt, this, this had changed everything.
“Yeah, guess I did, that a problem?”
Dave shook his head, sniffling; tears still flowed down his sodden cheeks though not as heavily. “’m like it.”
His lips twitched upwards into an almost smile. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Kurt knew they were lucky not to have been interrupted, he doubted their luck would last much longer. Dave seemed to understand well enough and started to rise. Kurt automatically grabbed a hold of one bicep…bloody hell, it was thick…and helped him up. Dave sniffled and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his jacket, he bit his tongue to hold back the reflex of an insult.
Together they made their way out of school grounds. Dave had followed Kurt like a lost puppy, keeping his head ducked low just in case they ran into someone. Thankfully though, everyone was already in class, he kept a watchful eye out just in case. Neither said anything, not even when they where safe inside Kurt’s car, and miles away from school.
Kurt wasn’t sure where he was heading but kept his foot on the pedal anyway. Dave had his head resting against the glass window panel, creating a cloud of steam from his breathing. Every so often he would reach up with a finger and draw something in the fog before wiping it away. The persona of a guy who was completely in control had disappeared; he was stripped from all his caveman armour. Kurt wanted to say something but didn’t know what the hell to say, so he concentrated on the road instead. Eventually the jock spoke up, breaking the silence.
“Where we going, Fancy?” His voice was strained, tried and raw.
Kurt glanced over from the wheel. Dave’s gaze was fixed on the window as he watched the traces of rainfall fall aimlessly across the glass. “I don’t know. I figured you didn’t want to go home.”
Dave scoffed and wiped away the picture he’d just done, a flimsy drawn heart.
He nodded his head. “Yeah, didn’t think so, I did think about my place, but Dad’s still at home.”
“How about Canada?”
Kurt raised an eyebrow then tried to hide a smile as he watched Dave doodle a maple leaf. “Umm, I don’t think I have enough fuel in the tank for that.”
“Could always get some, I’ve got cash.” Dave blew steam onto the glass before drawing a dollar sign; Kurt looked on, slightly amused.
“I doubt you’ve enough for that trip, and what about clothes, shelter, food.” Kurt tapped the steering wheel as he listed things off.
Dave sighed and drew another dollar sign next to the one already present. “I told you, I’ve got money.”
Reaching into his trouser pocket, Dave withdrew a leather wallet; flipping it open, Kurt caught sight of the visa cards and bills in the back. Wow, he thought, Dave’s parents obviously did well for themselves. Dave glanced at him, eyes almost hopeful.
Kurt shook his head. “You can’t run from this, David.”
Dave sighed, flopping his head back against the head rest with a gentle thud, closing his eyes as the gentle sway of the car lulled him.
Kurt wasn’t surprised the guy was tired, after what had happened he was feeling emotionally exhausted himself. In fact, it was probably a good idea to stop driving; his reaction time was already slowing. He’d almost run a red light and his dad would kill him if he got a fine. Spotting a deserted car park, he pulled into a bay, leaving the engine running to keep the
heat going.
“So? What are we going to do here, David?”
He pried an eye open and glanced at Kurt, who was sitting with his hands in his lap, body turned towards him. He shrugged his shoulders and closed his eyes again.
Kurt sighed and poked him in the shoulder, nail digging in.
“Ow that hurt!” Dave jolted; glaring at him, he rubbed his shoulder.
“Consider it payback.” Kurt ignored whatever it was he was grumbling under his breath. “Seriously, what are we going to do?”
“How the hell do I know? I...god, you know I never asked for this, these feelings!” Dave ran a hand through his hair, looking towards the heavens.
Kurt sighed and patted his shoulder. “I know, but there’s no point in trying to fight or deny them; sorry to break it to you, Hamhock, but they’re not going away.”
Dave threw Kurt an icy stare, shrugging his touch off. “You think I don’t know that? That I’m not reminded of it every god damn time I see you!”
“Me!” Kurt pointed at himself for dramatic effect. “You can’t blame this on me.”
Huffing Dave folded his arms across his chest. “Well, if you didn’t swish your hips the way you do, or look so bloody…fuckable every single day!”
Kurt next words caught in his throat as his eyes widened to the size of saucers. Dave didn’t seem to notice any of this though; he was far too wrapped up in his wash of emotions. This seemed to be his way, bottle everything up and then explode. Kurt had opened the Pandora’s box and it seemed that there was no closing it. The only thing he could do was to wait until he was done.
Dave’s voice rang in Kurt’s ears. “I mean, for fuck’s sake, you waltz your way through those halls day after day, wearing all these bloody tight fitting outfits, making me want you, and not just you know in the sexual kind of way but in other ways…”
The jock’s words made his heart pick up speed; how long had Dave been thinking of him in that way? In a twisted way he rather liked it at least someone wanted him. It was nice to be wanted, even if it was by a guy who’d made his life crap. Kurt had to remind himself that the guy before him now was not the same who’d pushed him into lockers.
“Like you were laughing with that girl...what’s her name? Mercedes, I think, and Jesus your face looked so bloody angelic and all I could think was how I wanted you to smile at me, how nice it’d be to hold your hand and shit! I don’t want to want you but I can’t fucking stop! Every minute of every fucking day you’re all I fucking think about!”
Dave stopped gasping for breath, eyes studying the floor of the car like it was the most fascinating thing ever. His panted breaths steamed up the windows as his cheeks turned pink in embarrassment.
Kurt’s had done the same. Words seemed to be finding a hard time formulating in his brain, which, considering how quick witted he usually was, was a pretty foreign experience.
“You ever…” Kurt breathed in deeply, pausing for a moment. “I don’t know, you ever think maybe talking to me would have been better than shoving me into the lockers?!” He tentatively
spoke; his last words had more of a sharp edge than he’d intended.
Dave, who’d been fiddling with his thumb’s looked at Kurt, frowning at him. “Of course, I did, I’m not a complete dim wit.” He sighed deeply and tilted his head up to look at the roof. “I’d plan it all out in my head, rehearse what I was going to say, practice it in the bloody mirror and everything but then I’d see you and…”
Dave paused, obviously struggling within himself. Kurt waited with baited breath; he hadn’t been expecting all of this when he woke up this morning. It wasn’t unpleasant however, just confusing.
“And those feelings would start and I couldn’t control anything. It’s like yesterday. You
where all up in my face and all I could think was how blue your eyes were, I mean they’re like bloody stars”
Kurt couldn’t help himself; he blushed at the compliment. No one had ever complimented him in that way.
“And your lips…man I just wanted you so bad. So, I kissed you and, god, it felt so good and I
finally thought maybe I could actually do this, maybe I could have you but then your face, oh, god your face!” Dave rubbed his own face, shaking his head furiously. “And I knew I couldn’t take it back, I can’t take any of it back and you’re always going to hate me.”
“I don’t…”
On an automatic reflex Kurt began to speak, but was cut off abruptly by Dave, who dropped his hands to look at him pointedly. “Yes you do! Don’t lie, you hate me.”
Kurt opened his mouth but was silenced by the overpowering deep tones of the other boy.
“I don’t blame you; I mean I fucking hate me but, god, Kurt, you have to know how sorry I am. I’m so, so sorry, you have no idea.” Dave paused for a second to regain his breath. “If I could take it back, Kurt, I would. I really fucking would.”
Kurt licked his lips and nodded his head. Although he’d asked, demanded really, for an apology earlier, receiving it was having more of an effect on him than he realised it would. Perhaps it was because of everything that had happened since he pulled the jock into the locker room, but he really believed him. Dave was truly sorry. Maybe that’s why when he grabbed hold of his hand he didn’t pull away.
“But you can’t.” Whispering, Kurt looked into Dave’s eyes and he really, truly wished he had a time machine. For some reason he reckoned if Dave had been open earlier, before all the slushys and lockers, things would have gone a hell of a lot different, maybe they’d been parked in this car doing something entirely different. There were a lot of what ifs surrounding them and it made his head dizzy.
Dave squeezed his hand and looked at him desperately as if reading his thoughts. “I know I can’t change what I did but if you give me chance I could make it up, or at least try! Please, let me try. I really am sorry.”
Kurt exhaled and inhaled deeply a few times, studying the brown eyes before him. They were hazel he soon realised, flickers of green mixed with brown tones in the pupils.
“Okay,” he finally said on a whispered breath.
“Okay,” Dave repeated, not believing he was hearing things right.
Kurt covered, or at least half covered, the hand that was holding his and patted it. “Okay, David.”
Dave let out a half laugh from relief. He couldn’t believe it and his face showed it, lips stretching in a wide, disbelieving smile.
“This doesn’t-” Kurt began but his tongue couldn’t seem to produce the words he wanted.
Dave seemed to understand though. “I know, it going to take a lot more than…” Suddenly, mid sentence, he let out a yawn, Kurt laughed.
“You’re tired,” he attempted to say whilst yawning himself, Dave chuckled.
“So are you.”
“Mmm, maybe we should go home.”
Dave’s face fell and the flash of worry crossed his eyes again, darkening his whole face. “Can’t we stay here…” Seeing the look on Kurt’s, he quickly added, “Just for a bit longer.”
Kurt sighed and looked up into the heavens, eventually he nodded his head. Dave relaxed; the smile returning. Kurt rolled his eyes but inside he smiled back.
Pulling his chair back, to give himself more leg room, Dave lowered the back so it was horizontal. Lying back, he tucked an arm under his head, face turned towards Kurt and closed his eyes, feeling more relaxed than he’d ever felt before.
Kurt turned on the radio, half to keep the mood relaxed and half to help him forget he was about to fall asleep a few centimetres from his former bully. After lowering his own chair, he laid down facing the roof of the car. The voice of Adam Lambert floated into the space between them mixing with the light droplets of water that hit the metal of the car.
Have you lost your way? Living in the shadow of the messes that you made.
He thought how fitting the lyrics where for Dave and their whole…relationship?
Glancing over he noticed how Dave was slightly nodding along to the words.
Think of what you could be if you rewrite the role you play.
He found himself turning to face Dave, studying the nearly asleep boy; his face was so different in this light, he looked so boyish. It was strange how life could throw you such a curve ball, ripping the plates of your world apart and rearranging them…for the better? Kurt hoped it was for the better, he couldn’t see how this could make it worse.
He imagined what things would be like now, there was still so much to do, to face but it didn’t seem like an impossible task to him. It was going to be hard for both of them, that was a given. There was trust that needed to be built, situations to deal with, bad memories to dull with good ones but he could almost see the bright future that was possible. If Dave could rewrite his own role, turn from bully to protector, the halls of McKinney might be safer and even enjoyable.
As the chorus approached, Kurt, lost in imagines of this brand new world they’d created inattentively, stretched a hand out, reaching across the short distance between them. It came to rest on top of Dave’s forehead.
Dave twitched from the unexpected touch and his eyes crinkled up in confusion.
“Wanna scream out, no more hiding; don’t be afraid of what’s inside.” Sweeping back a few strands of dark hair, Kurt without even realising it found himself singing along to the track. He sung in a hushed lullaby tone, running his fingers gently across Dave’s face soothingly. Dave's eyes fluttered open and he stared silently at him as his voiced filled the car once more.
“Gonna tell ya, you’ll be alright in the aftermath.”
Dave seemed to want to say something; he wet his lips a few times before deciding maybe it was better not to; Kurt was silently thankful.
“Anytime anybody pulls you down, anything anybody says you’re not allowed, just remember you are not alone in the aftermath.”
Slowly, Dave reached his hand up taking the hand Kurt was using to trace the lines on his face into his own. Gently, he brought it down to his lips, tracing over each knuckle in such a tender gesture, Kurt’s heart swelled.
Releasing Kurt’s hand, he closed his eyes once more, letting out a small sigh of contentment. Kurt’s thumb brushed underneath his dark eyelashes as a droplet of water slipped past an eye lid. Kurt closed his own eyes, drifting to sleep as the last line floated around them both.
Just remember you are not alone in the aftermath.
Characters/Pairings: Kurt/Karofsky (one-sided & foreshadowing)
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 (swearing/derogatory terms)
Spoilers: Never Been Kissed episode
Disclaimer: I do not own glee or any of the characters, believe me things would be going a lot differently if I did.
Summary: AU from NBK Kurt wasn’t sure how he got here, here being the boys’ locker room with his tormentor crying into his expensive body length jumper.
Word Count: 4,979
Author’s Notes: Done for the song challenge at porcelain_fans My first time writing theses characters, little nervous about posting this but excited too. I would like to thank and send lots of hugs and cookies to the lovely got2luvmel who beta’d this for me.
Kurt wasn’t sure how he got here, here being the boys’ locker room with his tormentor crying into his expensive body length jumper. One part of his brain was already calculating how much the dry cleaning would cost to get the snot stains out. For the most part though, he was shell shocked. This was not how the fashionista had expected this to go down. Kurt was aware of the events that had transpired, leading them into this locker room, again, but he couldn’t place exactly when they’d fallen into this particular moment.
The desperate plant of Karofsky lips to his own had been the match to light the dynamite, pulling Kurt into the jock’s chaotic world of struggling sexuality. Considering the crying boy shaking on the floor, clinging onto him as if he was the only thing keeping him anchored to life itself, Kurt suspected this was all years in the making for Karofsky. The flame had obviously been burning ages before; the kiss was just the catalyst.
It’d taken Kurt a long time to recompose himself after Karofsky had stormed out of the locker room, a mass of emotions running through his veins. Time had seemed to blur. Nothing but the lingering tastes of crisps, pizza and something that Kurt suspected was unique to Karofsky alone, had been clear. Karofsky’s face all pent up with emotions would not leave his mind that night. The sound of his whimper kept replaying itself over and over, haunting his dreams.
Storming into school the next day, Kurt had been determined to confront the douchebag. You can refuse to be the victim. That’d been exactly what he'd prepared himself to do. Damn the meathead of a jock, damn him to hell! He was not going to fear him anymore, he refused to! He'd marched down the halls of McKinley high, lips pursed, eyes locked in a steely gaze with a tongue sharpened, ready to, quite literally, cut a bitch.
The sight of every letterman jacket had sparked fear and doubt but Kurt had composed himself, trying to ignore the vision of being smashed into a locker. Instead, he'd concentrated on keeping his bitch face on. To help keep himself in the zone he thought of how fugly that letterman jacket really was. I mean, were the sleeves yellow, white or puke stained? Who the hell knew!
Eventually Kurt’s target had come into view. The closeted bully had been casually walking down the hall, but when Karofsky caught sight of Kurt, he’d almost cowered. That flash of emotion reinforced Kurt’s belief that maybe; just maybe, the asshole was more human than even he’d have liked to believe. Using all the strength his small frame could muster, he'd grabbed Karofsky by the wrist and pulled him into the nearest room; which happened to be the locker room, how ironic.
He’d known Karofsky was more powerful than him, even in his current state of determinedness, and could easily pull away. However, it seemed the Neanderthal hadn’t wanted to escape, he hadn’t even pretended to struggle. A strange sense of déjà vu had hit Kurt when he’d furiously turned around to face his prey. The atmosphere of it prickled his porcelain skin, stringing emotions in the pit of his stomach. For a moment the fashionista had wanted to run, scraping the plan all together. In all honestly, what in the name of sweet gaga had he been doing? It was crazy; Charlie Sheen levels of madness.
“What the hell are you doing, Hummel!? You gone mad or somethin'?” Karofsky let out a noise that was supposed to be a laugh but the sound caught uncomfortably in his throat.
Kurt snapped out of himself, the Neanderthal was calling him mad; him, really, really! Anger pulsated through his veins, how bloody dare he? The bastard! “It’s me that should be asking you what the hell!”
“Don’t know what you’re talking 'bout, Fancy.” Karofsky shifted uncomfortably. Looking down at his feet, he shoved his hands into his pockets.
Kurt felt a spark of joy; he knew he had the upper hand and god did that feel good. It shouldn’t but damn it, it was nice to be the one holding the cards. “Cut the innocent act; you know exactly what I’m talking about!”
Karofsky's face whipped up, glaring at him, his eyes narrow and dangerous. Panic gurgled within Kurt when he noticed the material of the boy’s pockets scrunching up as he clenched his fists within them.
“Don’t talk to me like that!” Karofsky snapped; voice gruff.
The panic disappeared, replaced with white hot anger. Seriously, Kurt thought; Hamhock was bossing him about. As Mercedes would have said; hell to the no!
“Oh, I’m so sorry, here let me grovel at your feet,” Kurt mocked bowing down, ignoring the almost growl it evoked. Standing upright again he puffed out his chest. Angling his nose high in the air, he tilted his face to lock gazes with Karofsky. His cheeks where burning, body almost shaking with emotions. Karofsky clenched his teeth, glaring back with fire in his eyes. Kurt half expected to be thrown into a locker, punched or even kissed again. He wasn’t sure which one was more terrifying.
The tension built second after second, the air heating up. Kurt’s head began to fog up, the anticipation of things to come overbearing all other thoughts. Then suddenly, without warning, Karofsky let out a long sigh and shook his head. Pulling a hand out from his jacket pocket, he ran it threw his hair, tugging at the ends slightly. The heated atmosphere cooled rapidly.
“What do you want, Fancy?” Karofsky's voice was deflated, a vast contrast from the growl it’d been seconds earlier.
The change sent shivers through the smaller guy. Not having expected Karofsky to back down, Kurt was now forced to take a step back. What did he want? He wasn’t sure he even knew but he’d be damned if he let Hamhock know. Thinking on impulse he listed anything that sprung to mind.
“I want an apology! I want you to take back all the bruises and fear!” He practically spat the words up at the other boy’s face; surprisingly, Karofsky just stood there and took it.
“I want the hours and hours I spent getting those revolting slushy stains out of my clothes back!”
“I can’t do that,” Karofsky mumbled, so softly he barely heard him. The jock's eyes darted down to the floor as he tightened his jaw, but not in anger, more like…shame.
“No, you can’t!” Kurt shoved his arms across his chest tightly, eyes stone cold as he studied the other boy. “I doubt you even want to, in fact, you’re probably sorry you didn’t do more damage.”
Karofsky's head jolted, deep wrinkles appearing in between his brow as he frowned. “You really think that?”
Kurt had never heard the jock sound so, hurt. “Well, I am just a big fat homo aren’t I? I’m not worth the dirt under your feet, right? You hate me!”
“I…” Karofsky began to protest and then sighed letting his voice fade into nothing. Kurt quickly caught onto the meaning and smirked.
“Or maybe it’s because you like me!”
“No.” Karofsky’s delivery lacked all authority. Instead, it was weak, a desperate plea.
Kurt rejoiced; he really did have the jock between finger and thumb. “No? Why did you kiss me then?”
Karofsky's eyes flickered to the door, no doubt scared someone in the outside hall had heard. Kurt huffed and puffed, his cheeks were burning. In the back of his mind he cringed at the sight he must be, no doubt he was clashing horribly with the colour of his jumper.
“What, worried someone will find out?!” Kurt yelled louder, focussing all his energy into the fire of his rage. Karofsky's eyes darted to the door once more and then locked themselves on his, pleading silently.
“Scared someone will find out you’re just a big-”
“Don’t.” Karofsky used his most threatening tone.
Kurt was surprised and delighted that it did nothing to him anymore, not even a slight jolt of fear. It was probably due to the amount of adrenaline coursing through him, but he would take it. “Giant!”
“Please.”
The pleading didn’t work on him either; he was seeing red, almost blacked out in it. “Flaming…”
“STOP IT!” Slamming his fists against the nearest locker, Karofsky squeezed his eyes shut, wincing as the skin on his hand split and small traces of blood appeared.
Kurt recoiled at the sound, his body waiting for the pain that usually followed such a noise. It really was a wonder someone hadn’t burst into the room at that moment, they’d made enough of a racket. It seemed the walls of McKinley were as deaf as they were blind.
“Stop it,” Karofsky pleaded again, hands sliding down the metal to hang loosely by his side. “Stop, ‘m not.”
Kurt’s anger disappeared, drowned by the look on Karofsky’s face, the harsh heart-wrenching sigh of self-hatred. An overwhelming amount of sympathy flooded Kurt’s senses. Taking a few steps forward Kurt spoke the words he’d been thinking since the ‘incident’ yesterday.
“You’re gay.” His voice was soft, calm; all traces of his earlier rage had been blown away.
“Can’t be…” Karofsky mumbled into the cold steal, tears where forming in his eyes.
Kurt’s stomach clenched. “Yes you can be,” he gulped. “You are.”
Karofsky spun around, shadows dancing in his eyes, he looked haunted. “I’m a guy.”
Kurt coked an eyebrow. “And what exactly am I then? A ruddy duck!”
Karofksy shook his head, running both hands threw his hair and over his eyes trying to stop the tears that where starting to fall. “You know what I mean!”
Yes, Kurt knew but that didn’t stop him from rolling his eyes. “Just because you’re...” Karofsky's eyes closed, awaiting the blow of his next word. It was as if he was awaiting a knife to the chest.
Kurt sighed and changed tact. “Just because you feel the way you do, doesn’t make you're less of a guy, you’re still you.”
Letting out an almost hysterical laugh mixed with a deep sob, the other boy shook his head vigorously. “No you don’t get it, I can’t be! I’m a jock, I like sports. I hate fucking fashion. I eat pizza and junk food. I don’t give a flying fuck about skin products and other girly shit like that…I’m a MAN!” Karofsky gestured madly with his arms, pounding his chest by the end of his speech.
With his chest contracting painfully at the sight, Kurt bit his lip unable to move. He watched silently as Karofsky kept banging himself, the resounding thuds echoing around the locker room.
“You don’t understand, they would never…m’parents, school, the guys, Az…o god Az!” Karofsky's hands flew to his head, clutching at it between his palms. He pushed hard, Kurt feared he might crush his skull; brains did not go with his look.
“He’d hate him; he’d HATE ME and they’d never, never see me as me…I wouldn’t…I’d just be a fag. Just another fucking fag!”
The boy's face had turned red from shouting. Overwhelmed by the strain of his emotions, Karofsky dropped onto his knees; thumping himself again. It was as if he believed he could pound the gay out. Tears streamed uncontrollably, dripping down his cheeks and pooling at his collarbone. Kurt sucked in air, his mind working overtime as he was forced to rearrange his entire perception of his tormenter.
Although the fiery anger he held for the Neanderthal had not disappeared entirely, one didn’t get over the shit Karofsky had done that quickly; it was now smothered with sympathy and understanding.
A thousand emotions swirled inside him as Karofsky chocked out on a voice broken and weak. “I…I…I…caaa…can’t…do this.”
Kurt drew his bottom lip threw his teeth, his own eyes filling with water. Silent tears
slipped down his cheeks. Karofsky was more fucked up than he’d ever imagined. Although he knew no one would blame him for leaving the bully to deal with his own issues alone, Kurt knew he’d never be able to live with it.
Reaching out towards the kneeling figure, he placed a soft hand to his head. Karofsky launched forward, grabbing at the material of his jumper and burying his face into the soft material covering his abdomen. Tilting to compensate for the extra weight, they swayed on the spot a little.
At first Kurt stood rigid, one hand still resting on Karofsky's head, the other hovering mid air. Then as Karofsky convulsed and his muffled sobs reached his ears, he relaxed. Lowering his hovering hand, he placed it against the larger boy’s shoulders blades, rubbing soft circles into his back.
Yesterday if someone had told him he’d be holding a crying Karofsky, actually wanting to comfort the person who practically made his life hell, Kurt would have laughed and, more than likely, made some bitchy comment about someone smoking too much weed. But now, well, it was like they were in a different universe. Karofsky wasn’t a despicable bully but just a boy dealing with something so much bigger than a young life ought to.
Bullying and shoving people into lockers had not been the best way to deal with his feelings, that was a given, but it didn’t change the fact Karofsky, despite all his bravado, was still just a kid, scared of the desires inside himself.
Shouldn’t he, the only one who could possibly understand any of that, at least try to help?
What decent human being could stand by and just watch someone release this amount of emotion and not do anything? Whatever kind of person could, Kurt was positive he didn’t want to be anything like them.
Clutching Karofsky closer, he hushed out soothing sounds. Automatically the hold around his waist increased. “It’s going to be okay.”
“S’not, I don’t want to be here!” Dave murmured, shaking his head.
The vibrations of his voice melted through the material of Kurt's jumper causing his skin to prickle. The fingertips buried in fabric pulled downwards, no doubt, stretching the material; he, for once, didn’t care. Well, not that much anyway. The uncensored anguish in Karofsky’s voice made it nearly impossible to care about material things. “It is, David! I’ll help you,” Kurt choked out through the lump in his throat.
Karofsky loosened his grip. Pulling back he looked up and with bloodshot eyes into Kurt’s face, lashes glistening with tears. “You, you, called me David.” He hiccupped, wiping away fresh tears with the back of his palm.
Kurt looked down frowning, had he? He played back his own words and realised, yes, he had. It was odd; he never even thought of the boy as anything but Karofsky, but David seemed somehow right now.
Karofsky wasn’t Karofsky anymore, not to Kurt, this, this had changed everything.
“Yeah, guess I did, that a problem?”
Dave shook his head, sniffling; tears still flowed down his sodden cheeks though not as heavily. “’m like it.”
His lips twitched upwards into an almost smile. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Kurt knew they were lucky not to have been interrupted, he doubted their luck would last much longer. Dave seemed to understand well enough and started to rise. Kurt automatically grabbed a hold of one bicep…bloody hell, it was thick…and helped him up. Dave sniffled and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his jacket, he bit his tongue to hold back the reflex of an insult.
Together they made their way out of school grounds. Dave had followed Kurt like a lost puppy, keeping his head ducked low just in case they ran into someone. Thankfully though, everyone was already in class, he kept a watchful eye out just in case. Neither said anything, not even when they where safe inside Kurt’s car, and miles away from school.
Kurt wasn’t sure where he was heading but kept his foot on the pedal anyway. Dave had his head resting against the glass window panel, creating a cloud of steam from his breathing. Every so often he would reach up with a finger and draw something in the fog before wiping it away. The persona of a guy who was completely in control had disappeared; he was stripped from all his caveman armour. Kurt wanted to say something but didn’t know what the hell to say, so he concentrated on the road instead. Eventually the jock spoke up, breaking the silence.
“Where we going, Fancy?” His voice was strained, tried and raw.
Kurt glanced over from the wheel. Dave’s gaze was fixed on the window as he watched the traces of rainfall fall aimlessly across the glass. “I don’t know. I figured you didn’t want to go home.”
Dave scoffed and wiped away the picture he’d just done, a flimsy drawn heart.
He nodded his head. “Yeah, didn’t think so, I did think about my place, but Dad’s still at home.”
“How about Canada?”
Kurt raised an eyebrow then tried to hide a smile as he watched Dave doodle a maple leaf. “Umm, I don’t think I have enough fuel in the tank for that.”
“Could always get some, I’ve got cash.” Dave blew steam onto the glass before drawing a dollar sign; Kurt looked on, slightly amused.
“I doubt you’ve enough for that trip, and what about clothes, shelter, food.” Kurt tapped the steering wheel as he listed things off.
Dave sighed and drew another dollar sign next to the one already present. “I told you, I’ve got money.”
Reaching into his trouser pocket, Dave withdrew a leather wallet; flipping it open, Kurt caught sight of the visa cards and bills in the back. Wow, he thought, Dave’s parents obviously did well for themselves. Dave glanced at him, eyes almost hopeful.
Kurt shook his head. “You can’t run from this, David.”
Dave sighed, flopping his head back against the head rest with a gentle thud, closing his eyes as the gentle sway of the car lulled him.
Kurt wasn’t surprised the guy was tired, after what had happened he was feeling emotionally exhausted himself. In fact, it was probably a good idea to stop driving; his reaction time was already slowing. He’d almost run a red light and his dad would kill him if he got a fine. Spotting a deserted car park, he pulled into a bay, leaving the engine running to keep the
heat going.
“So? What are we going to do here, David?”
He pried an eye open and glanced at Kurt, who was sitting with his hands in his lap, body turned towards him. He shrugged his shoulders and closed his eyes again.
Kurt sighed and poked him in the shoulder, nail digging in.
“Ow that hurt!” Dave jolted; glaring at him, he rubbed his shoulder.
“Consider it payback.” Kurt ignored whatever it was he was grumbling under his breath. “Seriously, what are we going to do?”
“How the hell do I know? I...god, you know I never asked for this, these feelings!” Dave ran a hand through his hair, looking towards the heavens.
Kurt sighed and patted his shoulder. “I know, but there’s no point in trying to fight or deny them; sorry to break it to you, Hamhock, but they’re not going away.”
Dave threw Kurt an icy stare, shrugging his touch off. “You think I don’t know that? That I’m not reminded of it every god damn time I see you!”
“Me!” Kurt pointed at himself for dramatic effect. “You can’t blame this on me.”
Huffing Dave folded his arms across his chest. “Well, if you didn’t swish your hips the way you do, or look so bloody…fuckable every single day!”
Kurt next words caught in his throat as his eyes widened to the size of saucers. Dave didn’t seem to notice any of this though; he was far too wrapped up in his wash of emotions. This seemed to be his way, bottle everything up and then explode. Kurt had opened the Pandora’s box and it seemed that there was no closing it. The only thing he could do was to wait until he was done.
Dave’s voice rang in Kurt’s ears. “I mean, for fuck’s sake, you waltz your way through those halls day after day, wearing all these bloody tight fitting outfits, making me want you, and not just you know in the sexual kind of way but in other ways…”
The jock’s words made his heart pick up speed; how long had Dave been thinking of him in that way? In a twisted way he rather liked it at least someone wanted him. It was nice to be wanted, even if it was by a guy who’d made his life crap. Kurt had to remind himself that the guy before him now was not the same who’d pushed him into lockers.
“Like you were laughing with that girl...what’s her name? Mercedes, I think, and Jesus your face looked so bloody angelic and all I could think was how I wanted you to smile at me, how nice it’d be to hold your hand and shit! I don’t want to want you but I can’t fucking stop! Every minute of every fucking day you’re all I fucking think about!”
Dave stopped gasping for breath, eyes studying the floor of the car like it was the most fascinating thing ever. His panted breaths steamed up the windows as his cheeks turned pink in embarrassment.
Kurt’s had done the same. Words seemed to be finding a hard time formulating in his brain, which, considering how quick witted he usually was, was a pretty foreign experience.
“You ever…” Kurt breathed in deeply, pausing for a moment. “I don’t know, you ever think maybe talking to me would have been better than shoving me into the lockers?!” He tentatively
spoke; his last words had more of a sharp edge than he’d intended.
Dave, who’d been fiddling with his thumb’s looked at Kurt, frowning at him. “Of course, I did, I’m not a complete dim wit.” He sighed deeply and tilted his head up to look at the roof. “I’d plan it all out in my head, rehearse what I was going to say, practice it in the bloody mirror and everything but then I’d see you and…”
Dave paused, obviously struggling within himself. Kurt waited with baited breath; he hadn’t been expecting all of this when he woke up this morning. It wasn’t unpleasant however, just confusing.
“And those feelings would start and I couldn’t control anything. It’s like yesterday. You
where all up in my face and all I could think was how blue your eyes were, I mean they’re like bloody stars”
Kurt couldn’t help himself; he blushed at the compliment. No one had ever complimented him in that way.
“And your lips…man I just wanted you so bad. So, I kissed you and, god, it felt so good and I
finally thought maybe I could actually do this, maybe I could have you but then your face, oh, god your face!” Dave rubbed his own face, shaking his head furiously. “And I knew I couldn’t take it back, I can’t take any of it back and you’re always going to hate me.”
“I don’t…”
On an automatic reflex Kurt began to speak, but was cut off abruptly by Dave, who dropped his hands to look at him pointedly. “Yes you do! Don’t lie, you hate me.”
Kurt opened his mouth but was silenced by the overpowering deep tones of the other boy.
“I don’t blame you; I mean I fucking hate me but, god, Kurt, you have to know how sorry I am. I’m so, so sorry, you have no idea.” Dave paused for a second to regain his breath. “If I could take it back, Kurt, I would. I really fucking would.”
Kurt licked his lips and nodded his head. Although he’d asked, demanded really, for an apology earlier, receiving it was having more of an effect on him than he realised it would. Perhaps it was because of everything that had happened since he pulled the jock into the locker room, but he really believed him. Dave was truly sorry. Maybe that’s why when he grabbed hold of his hand he didn’t pull away.
“But you can’t.” Whispering, Kurt looked into Dave’s eyes and he really, truly wished he had a time machine. For some reason he reckoned if Dave had been open earlier, before all the slushys and lockers, things would have gone a hell of a lot different, maybe they’d been parked in this car doing something entirely different. There were a lot of what ifs surrounding them and it made his head dizzy.
Dave squeezed his hand and looked at him desperately as if reading his thoughts. “I know I can’t change what I did but if you give me chance I could make it up, or at least try! Please, let me try. I really am sorry.”
Kurt exhaled and inhaled deeply a few times, studying the brown eyes before him. They were hazel he soon realised, flickers of green mixed with brown tones in the pupils.
“Okay,” he finally said on a whispered breath.
“Okay,” Dave repeated, not believing he was hearing things right.
Kurt covered, or at least half covered, the hand that was holding his and patted it. “Okay, David.”
Dave let out a half laugh from relief. He couldn’t believe it and his face showed it, lips stretching in a wide, disbelieving smile.
“This doesn’t-” Kurt began but his tongue couldn’t seem to produce the words he wanted.
Dave seemed to understand though. “I know, it going to take a lot more than…” Suddenly, mid sentence, he let out a yawn, Kurt laughed.
“You’re tired,” he attempted to say whilst yawning himself, Dave chuckled.
“So are you.”
“Mmm, maybe we should go home.”
Dave’s face fell and the flash of worry crossed his eyes again, darkening his whole face. “Can’t we stay here…” Seeing the look on Kurt’s, he quickly added, “Just for a bit longer.”
Kurt sighed and looked up into the heavens, eventually he nodded his head. Dave relaxed; the smile returning. Kurt rolled his eyes but inside he smiled back.
Pulling his chair back, to give himself more leg room, Dave lowered the back so it was horizontal. Lying back, he tucked an arm under his head, face turned towards Kurt and closed his eyes, feeling more relaxed than he’d ever felt before.
Kurt turned on the radio, half to keep the mood relaxed and half to help him forget he was about to fall asleep a few centimetres from his former bully. After lowering his own chair, he laid down facing the roof of the car. The voice of Adam Lambert floated into the space between them mixing with the light droplets of water that hit the metal of the car.
Have you lost your way? Living in the shadow of the messes that you made.
He thought how fitting the lyrics where for Dave and their whole…relationship?
Glancing over he noticed how Dave was slightly nodding along to the words.
Think of what you could be if you rewrite the role you play.
He found himself turning to face Dave, studying the nearly asleep boy; his face was so different in this light, he looked so boyish. It was strange how life could throw you such a curve ball, ripping the plates of your world apart and rearranging them…for the better? Kurt hoped it was for the better, he couldn’t see how this could make it worse.
He imagined what things would be like now, there was still so much to do, to face but it didn’t seem like an impossible task to him. It was going to be hard for both of them, that was a given. There was trust that needed to be built, situations to deal with, bad memories to dull with good ones but he could almost see the bright future that was possible. If Dave could rewrite his own role, turn from bully to protector, the halls of McKinney might be safer and even enjoyable.
As the chorus approached, Kurt, lost in imagines of this brand new world they’d created inattentively, stretched a hand out, reaching across the short distance between them. It came to rest on top of Dave’s forehead.
Dave twitched from the unexpected touch and his eyes crinkled up in confusion.
“Wanna scream out, no more hiding; don’t be afraid of what’s inside.” Sweeping back a few strands of dark hair, Kurt without even realising it found himself singing along to the track. He sung in a hushed lullaby tone, running his fingers gently across Dave’s face soothingly. Dave's eyes fluttered open and he stared silently at him as his voiced filled the car once more.
“Gonna tell ya, you’ll be alright in the aftermath.”
Dave seemed to want to say something; he wet his lips a few times before deciding maybe it was better not to; Kurt was silently thankful.
“Anytime anybody pulls you down, anything anybody says you’re not allowed, just remember you are not alone in the aftermath.”
Slowly, Dave reached his hand up taking the hand Kurt was using to trace the lines on his face into his own. Gently, he brought it down to his lips, tracing over each knuckle in such a tender gesture, Kurt’s heart swelled.
Releasing Kurt’s hand, he closed his eyes once more, letting out a small sigh of contentment. Kurt’s thumb brushed underneath his dark eyelashes as a droplet of water slipped past an eye lid. Kurt closed his own eyes, drifting to sleep as the last line floated around them both.
Just remember you are not alone in the aftermath.