Fic: Surprises-- 1 of 1 (boy!Quinn/Karofsky)
Title: Surprises
Author:kosherrainbow
Raiting: PG13
Character:boy!Quinn, Karofsky, female oc
Pairing: boy!Quinn/Karofsky,
Genre: Romance, AU,
Warnings: slash, genderswap
Spoilers: Up to the end of Season One. Entirely AU after.
Disclaimer: Don't own Glee
Note: This is fill for an anon prompt. Posted at glee_genderplay
Also take libirty with some real-life definitions due to the nature to apply to the situation. This story should be read as fiction in all regards.
Junior Year
“Q.” Coach Sylvester's bark of a voice stopped her path to the girl's locker room where all the other Cheerios where practically fleeing from practice. “A word.”
Obedient Quinn turned around barely able to hold her shock that the older woman was already directly behind her.
“If you don't control that beard your growing and keep your hips in line I'm going to be forced to demote my head Cheerio to take Inflata-Boobs position at the bottom of the pyramid. Am I understood?”
“Yes, Coach.”
“Also stop binding your chest, you don't have a lot to work with in the first place. And with your emotional baggage you'll need all the help you can get.” With that final insult Sue Slyvester mad her exit leaving behind a wide-jawed, highly insulted teenager.
Normally, sfter three years of being subjected to the verbally vicious coach and Santan Lopez she could usually slide the cracks off her shoulders. This time, however, she found herself that night in front of a full length mirror, practically naked. Coach had been right. Her hips were odd; and to the touch, they felt bruised. Though in all honesty, her whole body felt oddly sore. Sighing, her hands traveled upward, towards her face overlooking the new accuracy of her chest. There were a number of rough dark hairs poking out from her jaw, she ran her hand over to assess. It could be taken care of easily. This was all probably just left over hormonal craziness still settling after the pregnancy six months all. Quinn nodded, to herself: yes, that all this was.
It was easy to write it off. If you don't acknowledge something is there then clear it doesn't happen. Then it doesn't hold meaning.
If Quinn doesn't acknowledge the fullness of her face fade, the extra hair has spread to the rest of her body, and the growth spurt she seems to experience. The increases aggression she explain on her frustration on Rachel Berry. The increase of appetite she blames on the additional height, but she's not too worried. To prevent any regression to her middle school self she goes in to the school's weight room for maintenance sessions.
It is there, after an already intense Cheerios practice (that Sue nearly officially kicked her off the team) in that quiet sweaty little room that Quinn Fabray becomes shockingly aware that she can't simply ignore all the little changes any more. And she's not alone when she does. Dave Karofsky is there as well, vigorously working his arms on the free weight. There is no one to watch their interactions so they behave civilly towards one another. She is in sitting on the machine working her legs, in the middle of the set when the sore in her upper thighs sharpen exponentially. In shock she loses focus, allowing the weight to drop in speed clashing loudly.
“Are you okay?”
It's then that they both notice where her hands are, hold her crotch area as if someone kicked her.
“I'm fi..” Her voice cracks.
“I'm fi...” There it is again.
“Just a little under the weather.” She charges through the unfamiliar squirm in her throat.
Another roll of throbbing pain begins to roll through in her body, so she excuses herself, practically running out of the room. She fumbles for a pair of jeans from her locker, the demented middle aged woman has left the building, and all the fear of being caught out of uniform is overshadowed by the fact her jean won't fasten across her hips appropriately, and more to her horror neither will the zipper go up. The tight female jeans simply won't go over the small growth between her legs.
Finally, she can't ignore what is happening anymore. Reduced to tears she slides against the a closed locker as she connects her symptoms to the special her mother was flipping through on television several months before.
“Uh...Fabray? Are you okay.”
“I said I'm fine.” Her voice betrays her. Stupid Correctional Puberty.
“Look.” The voice is looming over her, its Karofsky in the girl's locker room looking rather awkward and uncomfortable. This was it, she told her self, she was dead. Karofsky was a dumb jock, but he wasn't blind. He'd see the evidence and figure it out. Though after everything her own body is doing it shouldn't be so shocking when he does pull her up, doesn't start kicking her choosing to slide next to her. “What are you staring at, puck-head?”
“They say its not as uncommon as we think.” He whispers. “And I know you won't believe this, but when its all over you'll be happier.”
She's being rude; she gaping.
The sit in silence before he checks his watch. “Come on.”
He helps her up and into the equally abandoned boys locker room to acquire her a t-shirt and a pair of sweats. They get changed in silence, and in the parking lot he lead her to his car.
“Get in.” He says, a little too harshly when she just stands outside the door.
“Why should I?”
He sighs, “Look, I'm sorry about the slushies, and bullying your teammates. We're not going any where, just let get.” She stays still. “Look,” He throws his keys at her. “There. You have the keys.”
He turns to the glove department fishing out a couple of pictures as she slowly climbs in.
He shows her the first picture. “This is my family about a year ago.” There's nothing strange about the picture: laughing mother, father, Dave sits smiling next to a dark haired boy. “And this is a month ago.” Its the same family, no, not quite the same. They're not smiling as much, and they appear much more...nuclear. Same mother, same father, same Dave, and a girl.
“My brot...sister started going through the Second Puberty sixteen months ago.. Took her ages to accept. She's good now. So, I know I'm not really your friend or anything, but if you need anything...” He hands over a slip of paper with and address.
Two Saturday later as she...well, sort of she, stands in the pouring rain on the unfamiliar doorstep, she grateful that she didn't listen to her gut instinct tell her to toss that slip of paper. To her relief, its Dave who opens the door.
“My mom saw.” She gasps . Her voice now smooth and settled deep far below what she once had produced. “She kicked me out. I got kicked out of my home again.”
He steps aside, and she's found a dry refuge.
“Dave, who is it?” A female voice calls out.
“Quinn.” As if that explains everything, and she has the sneaking suspicion that it does. A figure appear at the end of the hallway, the girl from the second picture. She envelops a stiff muscled Quinn into a hug.
“Yeah, I wasn't much of a hug-type before.” The girl softly smiled. “Let get you dried off and in some dry clothes. The two Karofsky kids lead her upstairs passed the open door of a red painted room to the door labeled 'Dave'. The room has the requisite sports posters and memorabilia, though Quinn swallows a laugh at the additional posters of shirtless men. Dave takes a seat on his bed while his sister assaults his closet, “You look just a little less scrwany than Dave, so I'm sure we'll find something.”
It takes a few moments before the girl Dave calls Abby finally finds clothing she's satisfied with. “I know I'm a stranger, but if you let me see, I might be able to tell you how much longer before its is till you settle.” When Quinn pauses nervously Abby assures her its nothing they haven't seen before.
From his place on the bed Dave Karofsky had to keep himself in check when the formerly all-woman Quinn lifts the bag sweatshirt to reveal a four pack of abs on an now thicker waist, sitting below a chest that houses defined pecs where Dave is fairly certain breasts once laid. The pale tone broad shoulders, an obivous Adam's apple made it clear why Quinn Fabray had missed the last four days of school. When the pants start to go he focuses on his sister's voice
“...college. It was easier to switch, I had my own place, people were a little more aware of the condition. Plus, I have some wonderful Transgendered friends who made buying a bra for the first time.”
“What the difference between Transgendered and Transsexual?”
“Once upon a time they used to be used almost interchangeably to mean some born with the one sex, and the brain of another. Literally in the wrong body. Now, that's just Transgendered. Since people like us have come to light, they tend refer to us as transsexual, our sex actually changes, to brain triggers we weren't even aware of. I'm sure your noticing you feel more comfortable in this body than you expected to.”
A nod.
“Now. When I changed I had a really strong support system at the my big city college. You're just a small town teenage...boy. Stepping out in the world like you are now as Quinn Fabray...is going to be harder.” Before the question can be asked, “I think it might be best if start entirely new. Put Quinn Fabray to rest and be who you are now without her weighing you down.”
Dave had told his family about the day in the locker room back when it had happened, so when his parents came home to find him sitting between a now more comfortably dressed Quinn and his sister they did little more than blink and welcome her...him into their home. His mother even called Abby's doctor (added bonus of attending the same temple) at his home for advice on how much longer Quinn had to go based of her eldest child's estimate.
Abby' left the next day to head back to college. When Abby's boyfriend arrived at the front door Quinn received another lesson in the differences between sex and sexual orientation. Afterward, Dave made his way to his room to finish up his homework. Halfway through his AP Statistics homework he's distracted by the knock on the door frame. It's Quinn.
“Your sister and the doctor agree that I'm in the last week, when everything female will disappear. Your dad said he'll get the papers together so I can start McKinley a week from tomorrow as Owen James Myers.”
“Good name.” Dave comments.
“Thanks...Any how, I thought since this isn't going to change, I should spend the week getting used to being Owen, there's just one thing that doesn't go away on it own. And I was wondering if you'd help. I'm a little nervous...” Its then that he notices the scissors in Q...Owen's hands.
Fifteen minutes later Owen is sitting in front of the mirror on a chair the dragged into the upstairs bathroom. Taking out the hair tie the blonde hair cascade across his back.
“Looks out of place now.” Owen let out a weary laugh as he handed over the shears, “Mind if we go slow?” Dave grunts the affirmative. Still Owen feels the need to calm his nerves by talking, “When I was little, I used to love it when my mom did my hair, and since its never going to be long again. I thought I'd appreciate it one last time.”
Understanding Dave sets about clipping a few inches off a time, letting the blonde fall unceremoniously to the floor until the hair rest at the top of the neck.
“Now the rest of it.” The sitting boy says.
“The rest? All?”
“All.” The blonde nods. “Like your sister said. Fresh start. Clean slate.”
A buzz cut, can of shaving cream, and a razor later Dave staring down at a bare-skinned head.
“Thanks. For everything, if you'd told me two months ago Dave Karofsky would come to my rescue I would have slapped you.”
He nods silently making to put way the mess on the counter. Owen gets up out of the chair looking down at the pile of hair covering not only the floor but his body.
Before Dave has a chance to react Owen has removed his shirt and is using the towel to wipe off his neck. It takes a few seconds before Dave catches himself staring at the scene in the mirror and David comes to the first of many realizations. From that moment in the weight room until about ten minutes ago Dave had seen the other teen as some strange boy/girl hybrid on the same level of interesting as his sister last year. Now is different. Because, now, Quinn Fabray is visually gone, and Owen Myers is starting to cause a familiar stirring in Dave's pants.
“Dave!”
“Huh?” His attention brought out of his own head. “What?”
“I just was wondering...if it looked...if I looked...”
“Hot?” Dave's offers, the adjective slipping for he can stop it.
Owen blushes “Dave you're a guy, you're not going to be able to...”
He almost laugh it off, but there's something about the accusation that doesn't settle well. You're a scared little boy...the words from his nightmare featuring Kurt Hummel plays in his head. He can do it after all he knows Owen's biggest secret, it'd only be fair. Grabbing Owen's hand, pulling him until they were closer. Caught off guard the shorter by an inch Owen doesn't pull back as Dave whispers huskily in his ear. “Trust me. You're hot.”
One Year Later-Senior Year
Owen Myers stands in front of his open locker, messing with his hair in the magnetic mirror. Kurt Hummel can be heard nearby going through the list of details of the upcoming Senior Prom with his boyfriend, Blaine, a recent transfer student. Finally the new boy and Prom has distracted Kurt away from continuing to verbally question the disappearance of one Quinn Fabray. He decidely enjoys being all male, and there's parts he has to admit to liking better, such as not shaving his legs, or less judgement and concern as to what he's wearing. The only part he's found tough since his Second Puberty was coming out as a boy who likes boys (liking boys, the once thing that didn't change) to his peers. At least he had someone there to hold his hand.
“We'll do all the pictures with the rest of New Directions at Owen's and Dave's.”
On cue Owen feel an arm around his waits, and a smile across his face as Dave appears. “What's Hummel going on about?”
“He's planning the perfect Prom for him and Blaine.”
“To have the perfect Prom, he has to have to perfect boyfriend, but you're already mine.” Dave catches Owen lips quickly. Who knew? Dave Karofsky-cheese-ball extraordinaire.
The pull apart and Owen returns to tugs at the inch or two of hair refusing to stay down announcing with a sigh, “I think its time to shave it again.”
“Your favorite part.” For the last year Dave's been teasing him that for some one who got emotional the first time he cut it all off, he sure like buzzing it a lot.
“No,” Owen grins with the implication, “My favorite part happens when I take my shirt off in front of you after I shave it.”
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