The second and final part of 'Displacement'.
Rating: T, I suppose, for this chapter.
Warnings: Generally safer, but there be ANGST, ANGST, ANGST; no happy ending here. Also lots of swearing.
Disclaimer: If I were Ryan Murphy, Kurt would have gotten laid by now. If I were FOX, Firefly would be still be going.
Prompt: After the locker room kiss scene, they are both at some jock/cheerio party. Kurt is tipsy. Karofsky can't stop thinking about how kissing Kurt felt, so he gets Kurt completely drunk and hooks up with him - you decide how far they go. Kurt doesn't necessarily LIKE Karofsky yet, but he enjoys the hooking up/sex. (A/N: After posting this, I got a request for the morning after...and I'm a sucker for angst, so I couldn't resist.)
Notes: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2 OF GLEE, specifically 'Never Been Kissed,' and 'The Substitute.' Any continuity errors are probably due to my having watched the second episode half way through this story, urp.
When Karofsky wakes up, Kurt Hummel is still.
Not dead still, but also not asleep still. He's as still as a person who's awake but trying to look like they're asleep.
Even Dave isn't that stupid; he knows Hummel's awake, and knows exactly why he's pretending. Hell, he kind of wishes he could just roll over and go back to sleep. At least if he does that, Hummel might be smart enough to run away before he comes around again.
It isn't that he doesn't want to talk to Hummel about what happened last night. It was that he really, really doesn't want to talk to Hummel about what happened last night. In fact, he wishes he had been drunk enough to forget every stupid action he'd committed in the last week.
He sits up and hangs his legs over the side of the bed, putting his head in his hands. Regret doesn't even begin to cover how he feels right now. It's not even regret at what's he's done, more like regret at what he is. Of what he let himself be last night.
Not only is he a faggot, (he hates how the word so easily slips into his mind) but he started the faggotry, he got Hummel drunk because he knew he would be easy to take advantage of! He even sucked the boy off! How much more faggy can he possibly get now?
He wonders what Kurt plans on doing, how he intends to leave. Maybe the younger boy will simply slip out and leave, or perhaps the reason he's lying there faking sleep is that he's planning out what to scream at him. Karofsky imagines it'll be a rage-addled speech, something about what an awful person he is, how truly repulsive and revolting he is. He'll use words like fat and sweaty and ugly. Wait, no, he's smarter than that, perhaps 'obese' and 'perspiring' and other words that Karofsky can only guess the meanings of. He hates how stupid he feels around Kurt, because he doesn't speak French or know the difference between Marc Jacobs and H&M.
But Kurt isn't saying anything. He sits up and the sheet around him slides off the side of the bed, reminding Dave with a twinge that he's naked underneath. He won't look at Karofsky, eyes dark with something that Dave is pretty sure isn't lust. Disgust, perhaps, or fury.
And then he moves to mirror Dave's own position, with their backs facing. Kurt is curled over similar to Dave, eyes fixed on the floor.
"Can I use your shower?" is what he says, finally. Not 'I hate you', not 'how could you do this?', but 'Can I use your shower?' He supposes he should have expected it; after all, the boy was either extremely self-conscious or narcissistic (Dave never could be sure, but he always looked dismally attractive in his eyes anyway.)
"Um, sure," Karofsky replies rather thickly. "Let me get you a towel." He grabs his jeans and throws them on; though he usually hates going commando, he can't stand to be naked around Kurt for much longer, to be so exposed. Going to his closet, he picks up the nicest towel he has and walks back to his bed excruciatingly slowly. There, he stands in front of the small teen and holds the towel out, eyes averted to the side. Kurt takes it without looking at him, and continues to stay there awkwardly, as if waiting for Kurt to berate him.
Kurt still doesn't shout. He looks…broken, yes, that's the word for it. Completely and utterly broken, like a cracked china doll. His eyes are still dark and impossible to read. He's clutching the towel over his lap so forcefully his knuckles are white.
"It's…it's down the hall. First door on the left. I'll-" his voice is caught in his throat, and he doesn't know why. "I'll show you how to work the hot water." Unconsciously, he reaches for Kurt's hand, then, upon realization, snaps it back as if he'd tried to pet a poisonous snake.
When he walks towards the bathroom, he's suddenly glad that his parents are away (the other reason he'd been the host to the party yesterday,) because Kurt seems to have no intention on putting on his dirty clothes right now, instead wrapping the towel around himself.
"There's more towels there," he points to a towel rack when they get into the bathroom, "if you want one for your hair or something. Uh…my mom has the best shampoo, you should use that one. Oh, and there's conditioner, too…" Now he feels even more stupid, babbling like an ape, so he quickly wraps up the 'conversation' and walks out, red-faced.
Back in his room, Karofsky does what comes naturally and hits a pillow with enough force to knock out a rhino. He's not even sure what he's angry at, but he's going to blame alcohol, the fucking substance, which absolutely and utterly caused his actions yesterday. He was definitely drunk, he thinks. Definitely.
A buzzing sound breaks Dave from his bullshitting. He jumps slightly, then looks towards – yes, that is indeed a woman's handbag – thrown casually on his dresser.
It's wrong to look through Kurt's text by every standard Karofsky can think of, but he's done a lot of wrong things in the past few days, and this will just have to add to the list. The text is from Blaine, who Dave knows is the dark-haired twink that he'd accused of being Kurt's boyfriend.
'Hey, hope you had fun last night, even without me :( Sorry I couldn't be there, see you tonight? Xxx'
Dave isn't sure which disturbs him the most, that the pompous asshat uses full words in his text, that he knows what Kurt is doing so intimately, that he's making plans with him (did that mean they were going out?) or the kisses at the end. Altogether, it's a pretty unsettling text. So he throws the phone back into Hummel's bag, his curiosity overcome by fear of the truth.
He paces for a while. Then he picks up Kurt's clothes, folds them and puts them in a bag, for reasons he doesn't even begin to comprehend.
Kurt, unsurprisingly, is probably the longest shower-er that Karofsky has ever met. He tries not to think about the fact that the reason for the length is probably disgust at last night, and he takes to inspecting his house.
Of course, the place is trashed. Thankfully, it's nothing that can't be tidied in a couple of hours, and he can probably get Azimo to help out, but it's still a pain. He's glad that his parents aren't coming back until after the weekend, which means he has two more days to clean this crap up.
He's just finished looking around when he hears the click of his bathroom door and sees Kurt coming out, a towel wrapped around his waist and another twisted around his hair. Karofsky would usually smile (or jeer) at this, but now it's just some sort of sick reminder of who Kurt was and what Karofsky was so attracted to.
Attracted. God, he hates thinking about it like that. He doesn't let himself think like that. He barely lets himself think about Kurt at all. When he did, it usually had very bad consequences for him and his libido.
"Do you…" He is wary about the question. "Do you want some clothes? I know you hate re-wearing clothes." It would probably sound almost endearing if Dave hadn't grunted it begrudgingly.
"Do you have anything that would fit?" For once, it seems that Kurt's beyond caring what he wears, but Karofsky thinks that maybe he just really doesn't want to put his dirty clothes back on, the ones that Dave touched.
He nods curtly, and goes to find Kurt something, anything suitable. He's certain that Kurt wouldn't ever wear any of his clothes by choice, but he picks his most fashionable shirt and the tightest jeans he owns (which, of course, will still be far too big,) then pauses.
"I don't need underwear." Kurt supplies quietly, and Dave winces even though he knows he wouldn't want to wear some other guy's boxers either.
"Here." They don't look at each other, Kurt just wordlessly takes the clothes and waits for Karofsky to leave again. He does, and sits leaning against the door in a gloomy manner.
Of course, Hummel looks adorable in his clothes, if not very weird. He looks a lot better than he had done in his straight-phase, just…neutral. As if he could just exist the way he is, and no one would question him. Just like Karofsky. Nobody has ever even thought to suggest Dave is gay; he just doesn't seem gay. People expect…heck, even Dave expected that all gay guys had to fit the stereotype, wearing designer clothes and skinny jeans. It didn't make sense that he would be gay because he isn't like that.
"I'm driving you home." Karofsky mutters, motioning towards his door, and Kurt pulls a face of utter disdain.
"What makes you think I want to get in a car with you, Karofsky?" That was the tone of contempt Dave was expecting.
"Well, I'm guessing you don't want to be seen in public in those clothes." Dave replies rather sullenly, and Kurt's face flushes as he realizes that he's right.
The ride to Kurt's is absolutely silent, save for some growled instructions on Kurt's part. He occasionally shoots a glare at Karofsky that makes him wish he were dead, and were Kurt not so small and weak, Dave might consider it serious threat.
As they get close to the house, Kurt starts muttering to himself, but he can't make out what he's saying. Then, clearer, he states, "If my dad's at home, we're dead." Dave tries very hard to ignore the fact that Kurt just said 'we', which made them sound so together. Well, mainly, he tries to ignore the fact that this brings a tiny rush of joy. His stomach drops when he realizes the whole statement: Kurt's dad. He panics for a little bit, until Kurt announces that his car isn't on the drive, which must mean he's out.
He pulls up to the place he's taken his car to plenty of time before, and Kurt gets out silently. He knows, he knows he shouldn't follow him, but he does anyway.
"Wait." He calls out, but then feels incredibly stupid when Kurt turns with a raised eyebrow and hatred in his eyes, because, actually, he has nothing to say. He can't say he's sorry, because he just doesn't apologize, and it's not like anything he can say will make up for how disgustingly he's treated Hummel. He definitely can't say why he did what he did, because not only is he not entirely sure, he's also not sure he wants to admit it to himself. He wants to make sure that Hummel's aware that he still means what he said, that if the Gleek told anyone what happened he would kill him (he knew this was ridiculous, but he really needed to get the point across,) but he doesn't know how to put it without coming across as even more of a douchebag than he already was.
So he does the stupidest thing he could ever possibly do – as earlier proven – and goes in for a kiss. Their lips meet for about two seconds before Kurt's hands connect with his shoulders violently.
Kurt's angry shove feels like a slap in the face, but what hurts even more is the very literal slap in the face that follows.
"Don't touch me." Kurt hisses, and Dave can barely even look at his eyes, seething with anger. "I swear, if you ever try anything like that again, I'll tell the whole world…You can threaten me all you want, Karofsky, but remember that I know the one thing that can ruin you. And don't think for even a second that I wouldn't. You're…" he's physically shaking with anger, and Dave can see tears forming in his eyes "you're pathetic, Karofsky." And with that, Kurt wheeled around and practically ran into his house.
Leaving Karofsky alone, one step closer to accepting himself, but one giant leap further from Kurt Hummel's love.
Yeah, that's it. I cannot seriously see a future for these two, until Glee inspires me somehow (which right now I doubt,) so this is a two-shot. Hope you enjoyed, and...ahem. I love reviews. Jus' sayin'.