Hey there! Look at my pretty new distraction! I seriously should be writing Emrys and The Man Behind the Mask and I am, honest! It's just…not much. But I've finished my last distraction and I have a rubber band around my wrist, ready for snapping, if I go anywhere near the kink memes so I'll finish them! I promise! So, sorry for the delay, anyone who is reading those and is getting agitated. XOXOX

This was written for this prompt: .com/ glee_kink_meme/ ?thread=10193461

Pairing: Kurt/Karofsky with a tiny bit of one-sided Kurt/Blaine

Rating: M/Adult

Warnings: masturbation, self-loathing, self-deprecation, and some general strangeness. May contain spoilers, depending on how caught up to the show you are.

I do not own Glee or Freaky Friday.


Sorta Like Freaky Friday But Pervy

If it wasn't for Rachel, Mercedes, and Finn begging, Kurt wouldn't have gone to that stupid fair at McKinley. But he was a sucker for his brother's big brown eyes and his best friends' whiney pleases. Besides, they had a booth at the fair for the Glee club where he would get to send Mr. Shue, Puck, and Finn into the dunk tank. Finn spent a whole day teasing him about how confident he was he could do it but Kurt had one hell of a throwing arm that Finn didn't know about. It ran in the family. He couldn't wait. Blaine was even tagging along wearing regular clothes, for once. He showed up at the Hummel-Hudson house early Saturday morning, wearing jeans, a pink button up, and bright pink All Stars. He had his pink sunglasses hooked in the pocket of his shirt. Kurt rolled his eyes at the plain outfit and tried to convince him to at least wear a hat or tie but Blaine refused.

Kurt dressed to prove to everyone at McKinley that he was still more stylish than any of them, even though he wore a uniform almost every single day. He wore white boots, tight black pants, a black turtleneck, and a white wrap around cashmere sweater. He couldn't wait to spend an entire day with Mercedes and Rachel. And Blaine, of course, but that excitement he was keeping to himself. He practically dragged Finn and Blaine out the door to his Navigator when everyone was ready. Burt and Carole just followed along with amused smiles on their faces.

Mercedes and Rachel were standing outside the entrance to the school, Rachel jumping excitedly, when they pulled out. Kurt jumped out the moment his car was in park and ran to them excitedly. Rachel jumped at him and squeezed him as tight as she could. He returned the embrace with a grin. He understood the enthusiasm completely. He hadn't seen them in nearly two weeks because of their sudden increase in homework and Glee practice. He grabbed Mercedes and pulled her into the embrace. Then he suddenly remembered his sweater and pulled back. "This is cashmere!"

Rachel and Mercedes laughed and released him. His father frowned as he handed him his keys and he kissed his cheek apologetically. "So, I take it you're not going in the dunk tank?" Rachel asked rhetorically. She and Mercedes linked arms with Kurt and they led the way around the school to the gym.

"I'll do it!" Blaine cried enthusiastically from behind them. The girls laughed and nodded. Finn grinned and threw his arm around his shoulder.

"You're going to regret that, Blaine. Kurt says he's going to send us all into the water. Right, Kurt?" he said mockingly.

"Screw you, Finn," Kurt countered, feeling his cheeks redden. Did Finn really have to screw with him in front of Blaine? He wasn't entirely sure he liked having a brother right then.

"Boys," Carole said warningly. "God, they've been at it all day. And yesterday." Finn grinned and Mercedes and Rachel looked at Kurt in surprise.

"What? He acts like he's the older brother!" Kurt cried unhappily. Finn ruffled his hair and jogged ahead of them to catch up to Puck and Lauren. Kurt broke away from the girls and chased after him. Finn nearly fell over when Kurt lurched himself up and onto his back in retaliation. Finn grabbed his thighs with a grin and spun and Kurt yelped. "Stop it, Finn Hudson!"

He slipped and Puck and Lauren had to catch him so he wouldn't hit the ground. Finn immediately looked guilty. Kurt smiled smugly. "See? This is why uncoordinated oafs are told not to spin." Finn growled playfully and made a swipe at Kurt. He yelped and jumped up and behind Puck.

"Okay, that's enough!" Carole called. "Before one of you gets hurt." Rachel and Mercedes ran over and grabbed Kurt's hands protectively. "We'll meet at the car at five!"

They nodded and dragged Kurt off. Finn grinned at Kurt and yelled, "Next time Puck won't be here to protect you, little brother!" Kurt laughed and waggled his fingers at his gigantic brother.

After a few hours of time with the two divas, avoiding Finn playfully, and sending three boys –Blaine and Finn included – into the dunk tank, Kurt's cheeks hurt from smiling so much. He hadn't had that much fun since he transferred to Dalton. Plus, he sent Blaine into the dunk tank an hour into the day and his shirt was still wet and very see through. He would have sent Puck into the tank if the hottest Jew in Ohio hadn't been shirtless and thoroughly distracting. He cracked up when Blaine pointed out a fortuneteller booth the magic club –"What the hell? We have a magic club?" Mercedes said in surprise – had set up. But Rachel and Blaine pushed him into the booth with matching mischievous grins.

"Let's see about your love life," Rachel said with a smile. Kurt rolled his eyes but allowed them to force him over to the little table. The lady fortuneteller was standing at the back of the tent with a book in her hands. "What do you do?"

"I read palms, tea leaves, auras…anything you like. Sit." She gestured to the two seats across from hers then snapped her fingers and a third appeared. Kurt sat down and Rachel slid into his lap, and then Blaine and Mercedes took the other two seats. "The quickest is palm reading. Shall we?" They all nodded. "The ladies first. Rachel?"

Rachel's eyes widened then she held out her hand, palm up, and the fortuneteller grasped her wrist. She traced the lines on her palm slowly and carefully and smiled. "Very good hand here. I see future confidence and success but you have to mind your ego and remember who your friends are. Do not let your talent rule you."

Rachel nodded thoughtfully and her hand was released. "Mercedes, dear," the fortuneteller said, holding out a hand for hers. Mercedes handed over her hand and the fortuneteller traced her lines too. "Another good hand. I see a strong connection to God through troubled times, which will keep you grounded during your success. I see a lot of love, both from you and towards you, that will remind you where you came from and keep you from developing too big an ego. Any trouble you face can be overcome if you trust in God and the love around you. Do not lose your faith in either."

The diva nodded and the fortuneteller released her hand. She gestured to Blaine and he held out his hand with a grin. She laughed when she traced his lines. "Are any of you destined for disaster?" They all smiled and shook their heads. "All right, Mr. Anderson. First of all, don't lose those pink sunglasses. They'll work in your favor during your stardom."

Blaine grinned at Kurt and mouthed, "Told you they were cool." Kurt rolled his eyes.

"My advice to you is to remember it really is okay to relax and keep your friends close. Never deny who you are, it will only backfire. Do that and you will have a happy, loved, and successful life." Blaine nodded with his grin still in place and she turned to Kurt expectantly. "Give me your hand, Kurt."

"No thanks. I don't really believe in all this stuff," Kurt said with a shake of his head.

"Ladies, Blaine, would you excuse us?" the fortuneteller asked politely. Rachel slid out of Kurt lap and took Mercedes' hand to lead her out. Blaine quickly followed. "It's all right. I don't bite, Kurt. And my advice can't hurt, can it?"

"Well, I guess not," Kurt agreed after a few minutes. He placed his hand on the table, palm up, and she traced the lined gently.

"Well, first off, your aura is very clouded. I'll need to cleanse it for you," she said immediately. She stood up and went over to a trunk in the corner of the small purple tent. She extracted a tin box and brought it over to the table. "Here. They work better than any ritual and I can't see your future while you have a cloudy aura." She tipped it so he could see inside and frowned skeptically at what appeared to be chocolate chip cookies inside. "Oh, stop it. Non-believers, I swear. It's just a cookie."

"Okay, okay," Kurt mumbled irritably. He pulled out a cookie and she smiled before setting the tin on the table and sitting across from him again. He nibbled on the cookie while she traced the lines in his palm again.

"Okay. Like the others, there is a lot of success in your future, in whatever field you choose. Do not put too much pressure on your career choice. Wedding planning, singing, or designing will all bring you success. But soon, Kurt, you will have a fork in your road of love that will require a lot of thought. Remember this; the easiest choice, isn't always the best. Don't let your fears get the best of you. One choice will bring you contentment, the other passion and love. The right choice has loved you for a long time, so much it hurt him. Remember that. Remember your faith in family as well, Carole, Finn, and New Directions included. They'll see you through to the end and keep you safe if you don't think you can." She stood up and he followed suit. "Don't forget to finish the cookie. Trust me. It'll be good for you. And very helpful for your fork in the road."

She guided him out of the tent and tied open the opening, letting everyone know she was available. He frowned but kept eating the cookie as he went in search of the others. He found them on the other side of the tent where they had been eavesdropping and shook his head at them.

"So, a fork in the road of love, huh?" Blaine asked. Kurt nodded and took the final bite of his cookie. "And your aura apparently needs some cookie love?" Kurt rolled his eyes and Blaine started laughing. "I'm sorry but that just seems silly. A cookie for the soul."

Soon the other three were laughing with him and the entire reading went forgotten by all of them as they walked back to the dunk tank.


He walked down that road like a runway, even though for some reason it was yellow and bricked. He looked down and smiled at his outfit. At least he wasn't dressed like Dorothy, though Toto seemed to be having a good time strutting with him. He was so focused on looking around; he nearly walked into a signpost. Oh, great. A fork in the yellow brick road. Oz was weird, he decided.

"Well, Toto. Which way?" On one hand, he had a clear path with Dalton Academy at the end and a figure that short of looked like Blaine in his stupid pink glasses waving at him. It was devoid of obstacles but the sunshine was behind a cloud and there was a bonfire being added to by more Dalton boys. He had to grab the signpost to keep from falling over when he realized it was his wardrobe. He heard harmonizing and Blaine singing down that road. He looked at the other road curiously.

The trees were twisted and damaged, the road had holes and bumps, but the sunshine was bright and there was a rainbow beginning to appear. The bricks sparkled where they weren't covered by dust. He heard himself singing with Rachel and Mercedes as well as an unknown male voice, deep and sexy. He squinted and found a rack of colorful clothes and a large, masculine figure at the end. He realized the figure was wearing jeans and a polo shirt but his face was darkened so he couldn't see who he was. A letterman jacket was on over his outfit. A McKinley letterman jacket. He looked down at the road. Walking on it would be hard and the branches of those trees, those mysteriously red trees, would probably hurt him trying to get around them. But the end of that road was the McKinley choir room and the figure was watching him instead of singing and dancing like Blaine. His individuality was at the end of that path. But Dalton was safe. Dalton didn't have bullies.

Suddenly, Blaine was at the beginning of his road and the dark figure was at the beginning of the one to McKinley. "I don't know what to pick."

"Come with me. It's safe. You'll earn a solo in no time," Blaine said. "And maybe one day I'll love you back."

Kurt frowned and glanced at the dark figure. "What about you? Can you help me?"

"It's your choice," the figure said. His face lifted and Kurt gasped in surprise. Dave Karofsky was looking at him nervously. "I know it's hard to come this way but, if you pick it, I can keep you safe. New Directions and me. It's up to you. It's your life, after all."

"I want love. Dalton could give me that." He looked over at Blaine and Blaine shrugged. "Statistically, there has to be more gay boys than me and Blaine there."

"True. But you could have more love here," Karofsky told him. "Your family is here. And I love you already, even though I don't really want to."

"That way is scary," Kurt said, feeling like a small child as he looked down the road to McKinley.

"You're brave, aren't you? You stood up to me. And I'm tough, Kurt. I could keep you safe." Kurt nodded, still frowning at the beat up road.

"Why?" Blaine asked. "Why should you need protecting, Kurt? We have a zero tolerance policy here. It's already safe."

"I don't know. I don't know." He sat down and brought his knees up to his chest. He hid his face and tried to think. "I don't know," he repeated sadly. Toto put his paws on his side and stretched to lick his face. Kurt grimaced. "That's not helping, Toto. That's not helping. Stop it. Stop it now, Toto."

BARK! Kurt jumped and looked around worriedly for the roads. No roads, no Blaine or Karofsky, and no Toto but he definitely wasn't in Kansas anymore. Or maybe he was in Kansas. The homey design of the room could be seen as Kansas or country-chic. He was lying on a wood bed with a red plaid comforter over him and plain red sheets and pillows under him. Across from the bed was a dresser with a TV on top and in front of the window to his right was a desk with a gray laptop on top, a black backpack in the chair, and a few writing utensils in a hand painted cup on top beside the laptop. There was a picture of someone's family he couldn't see all that well beside the cup. A closet was to his left and every piece of furniture was obviously from a set, except for the bookcase against the wall beside the desk. The wood was slightly darker. It was crammed with books and he definitely liked the reading material. Goethe, Shakespeare, Wilde, Edgar Allen Poe, and a bunch of other poets and older writers along with some Dan Brown, J.K. Rowling, and a few more popular and modern names.

He used his hands to push himself up into a sitting position to get a better look around the room; maybe see who it was that brought him in here. That's when he noticed his hands weren't his hands. They were tan and large and the nails were chewed down to the quip. There was no way in hell they were his. He looked down at his chest and realized it wasn't his either. This chest was broad and firm and the stomach was larger than his was but firm and nice. He was clothed in a worn out black t-shirt. Everything was large and muscular and so not his. He ran his hand down his chest and pushed the blankets off. He was wearing gray boxers with a larger that his bulge in the front. He reached up and ran a hand through his hair. It was so short! He began to panic at that point, jumping out of the bed and searching the room with his eyes frantically for a mirror. He opened what he had thought was the closet and found the bathroom instead. He rushed to the mirror and clapped his –so not his! – hand over his –not his either – mouth to keep in his scream. He was looking into the mirror but instead of seeing his soft, pale skin and pretty blue-green eyes, he was seeing Dave Karofsky's tan skin and slightly gorgeous hazel eyes.

Suddenly, there was another bark that startled him out his panic briefly and he left the bathroom to investigate. There was a small black puppy pawing at the door to what he figured was the hall. He opened it and let the little lab out. He barked and ran for it. Kurt shut the door and went to the mirror again. He pulled on his…Karofsky's shirt nervously and frowned. "I've got to be dreaming. Yeah. I'm dreaming. I'll just wake myself up."

He turned on the tap and splashed water on his face desperately. Nothing changed when he opened his eyes afterwards, however. He looked in the mirror and he was still in Karofsky's body. He sighed and looked down at the sink. He felt like crying. He took a deep breath then walked back to the bed. He sat down and ran a hand over Karofsky's face in frustration, forcing himself to stay calm. He frowned upon feeling stubble under the fingers on Karofsky's hand. "He shaves?" he questioned aloud.

He jumped for the third time that morning when something loud began to play Break by ThreeDays Grace. He looked around and spotted a cell phone on the desk. He walked over to see who it was, maybe shut it up. He picked it up tentatively and was relieved and confused to see his own number on the screen. He hit talk and slowly brought the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Kurt?" his own voice asked tentatively. "Please, please, tell me you're Kurt in my body because otherwise I'm so screwed."

"Karofsky?" Kurt asked worriedly. He sat on the bed and waited with baited breath as his voice sighed on the other line. Oh God, oh God, oh God! Dave Karofsky was in his body! What if he did something stupid and left bruises on him? Ruined his nails? What if the damn creeper touched his body intimately?

"Afraid so," Dave replied. He sounded relieved, which at least meant he wasn't freaking out and damaging Kurt's recently manicured nails. Thank you, Gods of Fashion. "You okay?"

"Other than being in your body? Yeah, I fine," Kurt grumbled. God, he sounded so wrong. Every time he spoke, it was so deep and masculine, not at all like his real voice. "Tell me you haven't done anything to damage my body."

"Nope, nothing. I woke up, realized something was really off, and sat down before your little sissy body passed out when I caught sight of the reflection. Then I called my phone to see if you were on the other end. After I panicked for a bit." Dave sounded a little irritated with him, obviously not happy with the accusation but it was Kurt's body. He was allowed to be worried.

After a few minutes of thought, Kurt admitted, "I was about to go into full on panic mode when you called. I didn't even think that you might be in my body." And now he felt really dumb but how was he supposed to know?

"Really? You've never seen the movie Freaky Friday?" Dave asked, sounding very surprised.

"No, I don't think so," Kurt admitted.

"Huh. Weird. Okay, nevermind. We need to go over yesterday and figure out what could have caused this. What did you do yesterday?" Kurt crawled up to the pillows and slid under Dave's blankets in search of comfort. "Kurt?"

"Sorry. I was getting comfortable. Um, well, I went to the McKinley club fair," he said once he was snuggled up with a pillow. It smelled really good, to his surprise. "I saw you a few times so you were there too. I went to the Glee clubs booth, the African-American Society booth, band, cultural club, agriculture, magic, Future Detectives of America, the art club –"

"Whoa, whoa," Dave suddenly broke in, sounding panicked. "Did you say magic club? As in the fortuneteller?"

"Yes," Kurt said, nodding even though he couldn't be seen. He guessed that was the one they had in common by Dave's tone.

"The magic club doesn't exist, Kurt."

"What?" Kurt practically yelled before clapping a hand over Dave's mouth and breathing to calm himself down. He snuggled back into the pillows then calmly asked, "What do you mean the magic club doesn't exist?"

"I mean, Couch Sylvester came and sent the fortuneteller away because there was no magic club. She was just a crazy lady who showed up to scam the students," Dave told him quickly, his words nearly blurring together. "It was kind of funny to watch Sylvester get all pissed off at someone who wasn't a student for once."

"No magic club," Kurt muttered to himself. "We're screwed. Okay. What reading did she give you?"

"Uh, just a palm reading," Dave replied. Kurt could imagine him shrugging by his tone. "No, wait. She also gave me this cookie to cleanse my aura. She said it would be good for me. That she couldn't see my future without it."

Kurt frowned and thought back to what had been said to him. "Oh, my God. She said the same thing to me. She said it would help in my fork in the road, whatever that… You know what? Forget I mentioned that. We need to find her and make her fix this."

"That's great. How do I get out of here without talking to your parents or arising suspicion?" Dave asked bitterly. Kurt sighed. Crap. There was no way David's choice in outfits could possibly pass for his and if he wasn't flawless, his father would worry and keep him home. He would have to walk David through everything.

"Well, first of all, you need to go through my morning schedule. First, shower. Get a piece of paper, David. You're going to need to take notes. I may not be in my body but I refuse to let it fall to pieces because you are." He heard moving around then Dave grunted to let him know he was ready and he sighed in annoyance at the disgusting noise. "In the shower, use the pink shampoo. Message, rinse, and repeat, David. Then conditioner. The purple bottle. Now, with that, you comb a little bit in, work out any knots, then rinse and use a little bit more, this time from the blue bottle. Just message that in, carefully. That's for shine."

"Good grief, Hummel. Is that really necessary?" Dave asked irritably.

"My dad is bald, David. I don't want to end up the same," Kurt growled. "There's only one bottle of body wash so you won't have a problem there. While you're getting ready, it's best to listen to my iPod, since that's my normal ritual. After you shower, use the face pads in the white tube to wipe gently at my skin. Under the jaw too. Then use the yellow bottle. The instructions are on the back. I'll have to get a facial when this is all over to make sure no permanent damage is done but I don't want to spend longer than we absolutely must in each other's bodies and my skin care routine takes a half hour."

"Hell. Let me guess, wrinkles?" Dave asked. Kurt got the feeling he was being mocked.

"Wrinkles, blemishes, and dry skin. I hate when my skin feels rough and pimples are huge turnoffs. Do you even wash your face, David?" Kurt asked angrily.

"Yeah, actually. I don't like pimples either," Dave mumbled. "I wasn't judging. It just seems like a lot of hassle. I mean, you're skin's flawless, right? So why do you need to spend a half hour cleaning it?" Kurt blushed. Flawless, huh? "Whatever. What clothes do you want?"

"Such a resigned tone, David," Kurt said spitefully, "When you should be happy. You get to see me naked."

"Dude, just tell me what to put on!" Dave snapped. Kurt rolled his eyes but proceeded to instruct him on what outfit to wear down to the last accessory. "Okay, okay. I get it. Blue scarf, not gray. Shut up already. Anything else?"

"Fruit for breakfast," Kurt said with a shrug. "I don't know. I think that's it. If Daddy or Finn has bacon, you can swipe a piece off their plate. I always do."

"You eat bacon?" Dave asked in disbelief.

"I'm not a vegan and the occasional piece won't kill me. What about you? Any special instructions for me?" Kurt asked, turning onto his back and putting a hand over his eyes.

"No. You can eat what you want, just remember I'm trying to lose weight, not gain more. I'd appreciate it if you showered. I was out the minute I lied down yesterday. Street hockey can be pretty exhausting and I sweat too much, as you so affectionately pointed out. You can dress my body any way you like. Just…don't try to shave. I don't need any shaving cuts."

"I can shave. I shave my underarms," Kurt grumbled. "I'm sure I can shave your ugly mug." He was joking but apparently, Dave didn't find it funny because he sounded angry when he spoke again.

"Just for that, I'm not washing your face," Dave said before hanging up. Kurt glared at the phone then hit redial and waited. David picked up after the first few rings. "I'll wash your face, okay? Don't start yelling or anything."

"Wasn't going to. How do I handle your parents?" Kurt asked impatiently.

"You won't have to. Dad's the only one who pays attention to me but that's only during hockey or football season and he's out of town. Mom should be at work and if you do see her, avoid her like the fucking plague, man. Trust me. Either that or listen to the homophobic religious ramblings on the radio with her and watch her nod her agreement. It's not fun." Kurt felt his heart ache for the slightly older boy and his home life. He had a supportive father, a mother who used to tell him every day he was perfect no matter what, a stepmother who loved him despite his imperfections, and a stepbrother that genuinely loved him. What did Dave have? "Kurt?" Dave asked when he was silent too long.

"How often is your dad gone?" Kurt asked.

"Um, a lot. He's kind of high up in his company and meetings are never in Lima. Most of the time it's every other week. We watch hockey together every Saturday he's home though. That's pretty cool. I don't know. Ever since I got expelled we don't talk unless he's making sure I'm going to my shrink when I'm supposed to." Suddenly, Dave groaned loudly. "I have an appointment in four hours."

"Well…I could…I could go, if you want," Kurt offered nervously. He was the one who got Dave expelled and consequently ruined his relationship with his father. Yeah, Dave deserved it but going to an appointment for him still seemed like the least he could do. If someone ruined his relationship with his father, he would be devastated.

"No, thanks. When I get over there, I'll email her, claiming to be sick," Dave said. "All right. We'd better get to it. Don't touch that razor, Kurt." Then he hung up again. Kurt rolled his eyes and huffed. Why did everyone assume he couldn't shave? He had shaved his father's face when he was in his coma. His underarms were always shaved to decrease odor. Screw what Dave thought. He was shaving. No way he walked around with scruff on his face, even if it wasn't really his face.

He slid off the bed and walked into the bathroom. He noticed an iPod dock on the vanity and went in search of Dave's iPod, glad he wouldn't have to shower without music. He turned on the iPod and selected a playlist that was filled with soft rock and some top 40 songs. Then he shut and locked the door, just in case. He looked in the mirror and frowned then shuddered. He felt so wrong in this big, bulgy body. He pulled off his t-shirt and dropped it in the hamper. He glanced at the mirror curiously and gasped, feeling Karofsky's cock twitch.

He had always loved big, strong men. April Rhodes' magazines were his main masturbation material, after all, and most of the men in there were covered in hair and muscles. As much as he liked Blaine and Finn, they were never really in his sexual fantasies. They were good for romantic thoughts of sweet dinners and languid kisses but not the rough, hard sex he desired. And Dave was definitely a big, strong man. He was hairy but not in the I'm-overcompensating-and-trying-to-appear-more-manly way. His arms were lightly covered and his chest was decorated nicely. He had a treasure trail leading into his boxers and Kurt shuddered, thinking about what was at the end of the trail. He quickly turned away from the mirror and switched on the shower, resolving firmly to shower, shave, and dress without admiring any of Dave's gorgeous muscles.

He looked up at the ceiling as he stepped out of Dave's boxers and lifted one leg after the other to remove his socks. The iPod began to play Out Of My League by Stephen Speaks and he smiled. He knew this one. And it was an excellent distraction. He hummed along as he stepped into the warmed water. He looked over at the shower rack and reached for the shampoo. He messaged a quarter size into his hair and began to sing along. Then stopped and reached out to click the pause button on Dave's iPod. He rinsed the shampoo from Dave's hair and sang, "It's her hair and her eyes today. That just simply take me away."

He stood there staring dumbly at the shower tiles, amazed by the sounds he heard echoing back at him. Dave could sing! His voice was beautiful! A small bark at the door reminded him that he was supposed to be showering, not standing there like a moron. He reached out, grabbed the towel off the rack beside the shower, and stepped out to see what the puppy needed quickly. The little lab darted inside and curled up on the discarded t-shirt as soon as the door was open. Kurt frowned then shut the door and returned to the shower. If the puppy thought it was normal, maybe it was.

He hung the towel back up and looked around for a bath puff. There wasn't one but there was a washcloth hanging on the shower rack. He put soap on it and hesitated before bringing it up to scrub Dave's shoulder. He leaned against the wall and tried to think of other things while he washed. He reached out and turned the music back on when he failed to think of anything other than Dave's firm, broad shoulders and how they would look, moving as he supported himself and thrust inside Kurt mercilessly. Dave's cock twitched again and he glanced down at it in horror. Then moaned. Of course the biggest jerk at McKinley would have the biggest cock. No wonder Dave was so worried Kurt might peek in the locker room. He had to admit, had Dave shown him even a speck of kindness like Finn, Kurt would have eagerly fallen to his knees and invited Dave into his mouth. He closed his eyes and titled his head back. Why was Dave's body so appealing suddenly?

He ran the washcloth over Dave's chest and paused the stroke the soft, short hair curiously. He washed Dave's arms next and allowed his fingers to trail across his skin there as well before reprimanding himself firmly. Just because he was in Dave's body didn't mean he had the right to touch. Then again…Dave had some kind of attraction to him, probably physical. He was probably exploring Kurt's body thoroughly right now so why shouldn't he do the same? There was no need to be respectful when he knew Dave probably wasn't even trying to be.

He washed Dave's legs and back quickly then applied a little more soap to the washcloth and allowed himself to look at the half-hard length between Dave's legs. He sighed happily and wrapped a large hand around it. Dave's hand fit all the way around his girth but Kurt doubted his much smaller hand would have been able to. He stroked it, up and down with a little twist every now and then. He closed his eyes and ran his other hand across Dave's chest, the washcloth discarded on the shower rack for when he was done with his exploration. Dave's nipples were purple and had hair surrounding them. When he gave them a light stroke, he felt a rush of pleasure all the way to his –pardon- Dave's cock and moaned.

"Oh, God," Kurt sighed. He imagined looking at Dave and watching him moan as he stroked his nipples. He imagined caressing Dave's chest and lowering himself to his knees. Dave would stroked his fingers through his hair gently and watch him, a silent plea in his greenish-hazel eyes. He would smirk up at him and wrapped both hands around Dave's shaft. Then he would lean forward and collect the pre-cum oozing from the tip of Dave's monster cock. He would press a hand against Dave's hip because he would be eager and try to thrust into his mouth. His other hand would memorize the contours of Dave's balls, surprisingly less hairy than the rest of his body. He would stroke with the very tips of his fingers and Dave would let out a deep, masculine moan.

Kurt stroked Dave as he wanted to when back in his own body and moaned the very moan he was dreaming about. He swirled one of Dave's fingers around the tip of Dave's very hard, leaking cock and brought some of the cum to his lip. He moaned when he tasted it. He had only tasted his own cum once but he knew he tasted sweet with only a hint of salt. Dave, however, tasted a lot saltier with only a glimpse of sweet behind it. It was barely there, the sweetness, but Kurt had never been one for overly sweet things. He loved salty foods. He even kept a bag of pretzels, trail mix, or peanuts in his room at all times. And Dave tasted heavenly in his bitterness. Kurt returned his hand to Dave's cock and started really working him, closing his eyes and going back into his fantasy. He imagined himself down on his knees still, licking only the head of Dave's cock while stroking him firmly and enthusiastically, making more and more of his delicious fluids fall on his tongue. He would find a spot on the underside of Dave's cock that made him groan louder than ever and would go to see how that tasted too. Imaginary Dave bucked forward and moaned, "Kurt," excitedly.

Kurt imagined smirking up at him and cupping his ass firmly. Then he would move his head into place and opened his mouth wide. "C'mon, big boy. Into my mouth with that hot cock of yours," he would purr seductively. Dave's hand in his hair would tighten and he would grip himself in one hand. Kurt moaned as he imagined Dave holding him still while sliding his cock inside his eager mouth. Kurt imagined the weight on his tongue, the bitter taste falling directly on his tongue now, and imagined Dave refusing to let him bob his head or try to deep throat him like he wanted. He imagined Dave smirking and winking and holding him still as he slid out then forcefully back in. He imagined thanking the Gods of Fashion for his lack of a gag reflex and moaning like a slut around Dave. Dave would thrust inside his mouth again when he knew Kurt could take him and he would cling to Dave's firm buttocks, leaving deep crescents with his nails and enjoying every second.

"Damn," Dave would gasp, staring at him with wide eyes. "All those times I called you a cocksucker…I never imagined you'd be so good at that, Kurt. Your mouth is so hot." Kurt would smirk and use the fact that arousal and pleased shock had loosened Dave's grip on his hair to suck harshly on Dave and bob his head eagerly. "Kurt," Dave would gurgle, very pleased by him.

He would cup Dave's balls with one hand and suck on him enthusiastically. He would try to take every last inch in his mouth but it would be just a little too big so he would wrap on hand around the part he couldn't fit in his mouth and stroke it. Dave would force himself not to buck into his mouth and babble about his hot, wet, and oh-so-wonderful mouth until he was incoherent with pleasure. Then he would start to cum and Kurt would swallow it all while keeping his ears wide open to ear Dave cry his name. He would stand up as Dave slumped against the shower wall and kiss him, letting him taste his cum on his tongue.

That's when Dave would finally put those sexy muscles to use and lift Kurt up. He would pin him to the wall and kiss Kurt with the same passion and desperation as their first kiss. His hand would travel down Kurt's chest to his cock and Kurt would whimper. He would have been so neglected and sensitive, waiting until he had tasted Dave to even think of his own pleasure. Dave would grip him firmly and kiss his neck while giving him slow, lazy tugs and Kurt would wrap his legs around Dave's waist and his arms around Dave's neck. He would whimper and moaned and Dave would tell him how sexy he sounded in a deep, husky, I-was-just-having-sex tone. While his moans and pleas got louder and more urgent, Dave would stroke him faster and harder until finally, Kurt wouldn't be able to hold it in any more and…

"Ugh! Oh, yes! Yes, yes!" Kurt cried, pulling Dave's cock desperately and clutching the shower rack to stay on his feet. "Oh, God!" He saw white and choked down Dave's name in case someone was home and overheard.

When he opened his eyes, the song that had been playing was over and it was now Fever by Adam Lambert. Sticky white cum coated his arm and he felt satisfied and happy. He had never came so hard before. He brought his hand up and licked it clean then rinsed off Dave's arm. He picked up the washcloth and finally cleaned Dave's lower region, careful not to cause any stimulation, since he was so not going to masturbate twice in Dave's body, as well as his arm. He rinsed off then reached for the towel. As he stepped out, the puppy started licking his foot. He laughed –it tickled – and dried Dave's body off quickly before knotting the towel around his –Dave's – waist and standing in front of the vanity. He tapped his foot and hummed along to Fever while he shaved the scratchy hair off Dave's face.


Over at the Hudson-Hummel house, Dave had his eyes squeezed shut and was removing Kurt's light blue, satiny pajamas. He folded them and placed them on Kurt's hamper then turned on the music. The outfit Kurt had described was waiting on the bed and he had every intention to put it on immediately after he had scrubbed Kurt down quickly. He stepped into the shower and grimaced. It was hard. Kurt's actual dick was hard and had been since he woke up. He didn't know what to do about it. Kurt already thought he was a creep and jerking off in his body would just make everything worse. With his luck, Kurt would definitely find out. He shook his head. He would just have to wash then use cold water to get rid of it.

But he desperately wanted to tend to it. This was his only chance to know Kurt's body intimately. Would it be so wrong to use that chance? He shook his head again. Yes, it would be wrong. It would be like violating Kurt. Or would it? Yes! He almost hit his head against the wall to stop the fighting between his urges and longing for Kurt and his conscious but refrained and picked up the shampoo Kurt had ordered him to use and gently messaged it into Kurt's wet hair. This was okay to enjoy, he figured. He had always wanted to touch Kurt's hair and it wasn't violating if he had permission. Kurt did tell him to wash his hair. Twice. Who the hell washed their hair twice?

Someone with Kurt's beautiful hair, he answered himself. Britney Spears played on Kurt's iPod and he imagined the pretty boy moving to the beat in this very shower, shaking his hips like he had when he was a Cheerio. Dave wasn't an amazing dancer, no matter what Mr. Shue said. Kurt was. And he was so sexy when he danced. Dave could still see Kurt moving during that first Glee club performance. Crawling across the stage with that sexy smirk on his pretty pink lips, shaking his cute little ass quickly with that weird…whatever it was flapping against his groin, and just looking so sexy. Dave had been haunted by that for months. Then there was that first performance with the Cheerios in that uniform…Come to think of it, every single time Kurt danced in front of the school, Dave didn't have clean sheets for at least a month.

He shook his head firmly. This was not helping the hardness between Kurt's legs go away. He rinsed the shampoo out of Kurt's hair carefully then repeated the process as ordered. He didn't want to jeopardize ruining Kurt's hair either. He decided to wait to condition Kurt's hair until he had tackled the difficult task of washing Kurt's body without touching it too much. He felt horrible, disgusting. Kurt was probably having no trouble washing his body but he couldn't keep his mind out of the gutter. Of course, Kurt was probably throwing up over his body. He looked at the wall as if it was going to tell him he was being stupid and insecure then sighed heavily and shook his head. He remembered the pretty boy from the quad, Kurt's boyfriend. That was Kurt's type, he guessed. Yeah. Kurt was definitely throwing up in disgust about now. He wanted to sob but, Kurt Hummel's body or not, he was still Dave Karofsky and Dave Karofsky did not cry. Much.

He picked up the bath puff, took a breath, and whispered, "Just don't look and don't touch with your bare hands. He's not yours to touch. He would kill you if he knew you even wanted to touch."

He kept repeating, "He's not yours to touch," while he squeezed his eyes shut and washed Kurt's body. He avoided anywhere private for as long as he could but he eventually had to was Kurt's ass and his still rock hard cock. He washed Kurt's ass first, slowly and carefully, then his cock. He tried to barely touch it with the puff but even the brush of it made him whimper. He felt like such a pervert. Even though he tried not to and his mantra was partially working, he had been touching. He had let his –Kurt's – fingers ghost across the flesh he had scrubbed carefully. He had peeked a few times. And now he was brushing a bath puff across Kurt's shaft, trying to pretend he wasn't lingering far too long. He looked down and felt a blush start in his cheeks. Kurt was pretty all over. His slight treasure trail led to a well-trimmed patch of hair around his pretty red cock. Dave looked away and squeezed his eyes shut. Great. He really was a disgusting pervert.

He rinsed then did the conditioning routine Kurt had specified. Then he turned the tap cold and shivered violently. It took forever and the cold was unbearable, but eventually Kurt's erection disappeared. Dave turned off the water and picked up the fluffy white towel. He dried Kurt's legs, chest, and arm then slid into his black robe and wrapped his hair in a smaller towel, per instructions. He found Kurt's morning skin care routine written on a note card on his vanity and did all of it, feeling beyond guilty for his thoughts. Done with that, he went and dressed, refusing to look as he did so. Then he combed Kurt's hair and sprayed it to stay. He felt ridiculous but this was how Kurt would prefer his body looked so he went with it. He grabbed Kurt's car keys, iPod, cell phone, and went upstairs. Thankfully, there was a note on the table saying that Kurt's parents and Finn were out, Finn at Puck's and Kurt's parents at Burt Hummel's garage. He ate an apple for Kurt's benefit then left.

He entered the house with the spare key and headed for his room. When he entered, he found Kurt in his body (And hell if THAT wasn't weird) was glaring at his closet in disdain. "Did it say something mean to you?" he tried to joke.

"You have the worst wardrobe selection ever," Kurt complained. "I managed to find pants, thankfully, but I can't find a shirt." Dave did notice Kurt had donned the pants his mother had bought him over a year ago, trying to get him to stop wearing baggy jeans like everyone else. He had outgrown them. He felt a little triumphant, seeing that he could fit into them again. He reached into his closet and handed Kurt a gray long-sleeve shirt and a white and gray plaid button-up. Kurt grimaced. "Don't you have anything that isn't two sizes too big?"

"Um…" Dave leaned around into the very back of the closet and pulled out one of the shirts from a year ago. "Here. This better?" He handed it over then went and sat at the desk. He heard Kurt muttering about ill-fitting clothing as he logged into his email. He emailed his psychologist, claiming laryngitis, and then turned to see what Kurt was doing. He was staring at the mirror with an almost angry expression on his face. Dave felt sick. He put his head in his hands and swallowed down the urge to cry or throw up or hit something. He had worked so hard but he couldn't lose any more weight.

"What is it with you jocks and baggy clothing?" Kurt complained. "I feel so wrong without skinny jeans." Dave just nodded. Kurt turned around and frowned at him. "Are you okay?" Dave nodded again. "You don't look okay. What's wrong?" He walked over and put his hand on his own back; nearly balking at the strangeness of that but deciding Dave needed some comfort more than he needed to freak out.

"I feel sick," Dave said, jumping up and running into the bathroom. He shut and locked the door before Kurt could follow him and, as soon as the toilet seat was up, started puking. He didn't have hardly anything in his stomach so mostly he just dry heaved but it did the trick. He felt a little bit better. He stood up and retrieved the spare toothbrush from under the sink, doubting Kurt would be okay with him using his own toothbrush in his mouth. He scrubbed Kurt's teeth then flushed the vomit away and swished mouthwash for good measure. All evidence gone, he unlocked the door and was immediately grabbed by Kurt. Kurt checked him for a fever, looked him over for injuries, and Dave let him fuss with his body for a few minutes before pulling away and sighing. "I'm not sick."

"You just threw up, Dave," Kurt said seriously. He led him to the bed and sat beside him. "If you're not ill, then what is it?"

"I'm disgusting, that's what," Dave told him seriously. He put his head in his hands again and Kurt made an indignant noise. "No, no. Not your body. Me. Your body is fine."

"What's wrong? Did you have some gay thoughts? Because those are not disgusting, Dave. They're perfectly natural. And they certainly aren't something to throw up about," Kurt said soothingly, beginning to rub his back soothingly.

Dave let out a choked half-sob, half-laugh and shook his head. "I'm used to the gay thoughts now. I know I'm gay and I'm dealing with it." He squeezed his eyes shut then looked up at Kurt. His own hazel eyes looked at him with concern and he scoffed. Everything was just so weird. But knowing Kurt actually seemed to give a damn gave him the courage to say, "My body is disgusting. I'm fat and I can't seem to lose weight. And when I was in the shower, I touched. I tried not to and it was only a little but I did. I'm sorry, Kurt."

If it wasn't for the fact that it was his face, Dave wouldn't have been able to recognize the expression of guilt and trepidation Kurt looked at him with. "H-How much is 'a little'?" he asked nervously.

"Nothing much, I promise. I didn't touch your dick except for my, your, fingers brushing across it when I was washing and I was very careful not to touch inside your ass," Dave said quickly. "But my…yours…whoever's fingers brushed across your skin when I was washing you. I did that on purpose. I couldn't help it. I'm sorry. I promise I tried not to violate you or anything." Kurt looked down shamefully and twisted his hands together in his lap. Dave frowned. "What?"

"I, um, touched too. But it wasn't a little, Dave. I…I masturbated," Kurt confessed shamefully. Dave's eyes went wide and he jumped off the bed, staring at Kurt in horror. Kurt had touched his dick. Kurt had masturbated in his body! He had no idea how to handle that but Kurt looked sorry and that's all that mattered. Plus, it wasn't like he did it on purpose. Like Dave, Kurt probably woke up hard and couldn't help it. It was okay. And he still hates you, he reminded himself firmly. "I'm so sorry," Kurt said sadly. His face scrunched up like he might cry so Dave put his hands on his shoulders and forced a smile.

"Don't be. It's okay. I mean, waking up hard sucks and a cold shower doesn't always work for me. It's okay, Kurt, really." But that only made Kurt look more guilty and closer to tears. "What? I promise, Kurt. It's okay. It's not as bad as me."

"Dave, I didn't wake up hard!" Kurt practically yelled. "When I took your shirt off to shower…I got excited, okay? I like the way it looks and feels and I deliberately masturbated in your body. You barely touched me and I…I…" He couldn't say it again and just shook his head sadly. "I'm the disgusting one. I'm so sorry."

"No, no," Dave insisted. Kurt was perfect. There was nothing wrong with him. Everything was wrong with Dave. "You could never be disgusting. I promise it's okay, Kurt. You're a teenager. I can't blame you. You see something you like, you gotta get off. It's okay." He sat down and pulled Kurt into a hug. "I'm not mad. It's okay. You can do anything you want to my body."

Kurt sniffled and nodded and he rubbed his back, feeling very awkward but, underneath that, very happy. Kurt liked the way he looked without a shirt. He wasn't disgusting. He smiled and tried not to let it show but it definitely did. Suddenly, Kurt pulled back and sighed. "It's still not fair to you. I didn't even think about how you'd feel and you resisted so I wouldn't feel violated, even though you could have kept it from me. And you told me you had touched, even though it was just barely! I had no plans to tell you."

Dave shrugged. "That's fine. You have no reason to worry about my feelings after everything I've put you through."

"But I should, Dave. This is your body and I blatantly abused it," Kurt said in despair. Dave shook his head firmly. Kurt sighed then suddenly popped off the bed, rushed to the door, and locked it firmly. He drew the curtains on the windows and turned to look at Dave. "We're going to make this fair."

"Uh…What?" Dave asked, very confused.

"Masturbate," Kurt ordered firmly. Dave's –Kurt's – eyes widened and he shook his head wildly. "Yes. That's what's fair," Kurt insisted. "Go on."

"No way in hell," Dave said firmly. "Let's just get up and go find that stupid fortune teller." He started to stand up but Kurt grabbed hold of him and forced him back down.

"I'm giving you permission to masturbate in my body, David. Why don't you want to?" Kurt asked. Dave sighed and looked away. He reached into his bedside table drawer and pulled out his little ball of rubber bands, used to keep from shouting at his mom to shut up when she went on one of her homophobic rants. He began to pop them, trying to calm himself down. Kurt slid closer and placed a hand over his to stop him. "Talk to me."

"I don't want to touch," Dave muttered. "I don't have that right. You hate me." He snorted and popped another rubber band. "I have enough wet dreams about you enough without knowing what your body feels like, thanks. Can we go now?"

Kurt looked at him and sighed. "I'm giving you permission to touch, Dave. I'm telling you to. You deserve to touch after what I did."

"I don't care about what you did. I'm just glad all that weight lose paid off," Dave said, shaking his head.

"You're not fat. You were never that fat. Just muscled and in a really ill-fitting jacket," Kurt told him, kicking the floor gently and looking away. "I didn't realize you took my comments to heart, David. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I was fat. I still am. I'm working on it," Dave said, sighing heavily. Kurt sighed too and shook his head. He stood up and went into the bathroom, leaving the door open. He lifted the shirt and ran a hand down Dave's stomach. Dave felt his mouth water and wanted to whine, demand Kurt stop, but thought better of it. Throwing a temper tantrum because Kurt was touching his body without him in it wasn't going to help anything.

"You're hot," Kurt announced. He turned around and smiled. "You really are. I think…I think the bullying turned you ugly in my eyes. But I have to admit, you're definitely my type. I mean; Blaine and Finn, they're good and all but I've always wanted someone who could give as good as they got. I'm a diva, I have an attitude problem, and I need someone who's not going to sit there and take it. that's never appealed to me. I like men who can throw me around, leave marks, make me take it. I like big and I like rough and you're just the type of guy I've imagined being just right for that."

"Well, we do fight well enough," Dave said with a chuckle. Kurt laughed and sat back down.

"Yes, we do. And I will admit to certain forceful, locker sex fantasies," Kurt said. Dave blushed and looked away and Kurt knew he had thought about it too. He was sure Dave was calm and okay now, so he scooted closer, took the rubber band ball, and asked, "Do you have any fantasies?"

Dave looked away again and Kurt frowned. He hadn't realized his blush spread to his ears or neck like that before. He put a soothing hand on his own knee –so weird! – and Dave sighed again, this time in defeat. "I like the idea of tying you up," Dave admitted, still refusing to meet Kurt's eyes. "Or you dancing for me. You're really hot when you dance."

"Like a lap dance?" Kurt asked curiously. "Or pole dancing? Brittany taught me some pole dancing moves. I could definitely do that." Dave stared at him in shock and he blushed and shrugged. "What? We briefly 'dated' and I had to find a way to keep her hand out of my pants. I asked her about things she liked to do with her free time."

"Well, thank you for the new fantasy fodder," Dave grumbled. Kurt laughed. "Whatever. It doesn't even matter. I'm not masturbating."

"Please? It would make me feel better," Kurt said. He crawled across the bed to sit against the headboard and crossed his arms. "We're not leaving until you do." Dave sighed and stood up again. He walked to the bathroom and shut the door behind him. "What're you doing?" Kurt called after him.

"I need a second alone to think!" he yelled back. He heard Gretzky, the dog, barking and Kurt talking to him softy. He sighed and leaned against the door with his eyes shut, trying to relax and think. Kurt had told him to do it. But what about Kurt's boyfriend? He cracked the door and called, "What about your boyfriend?"

"I don't have one. Would you just masturbate already? How does this dog keep getting in here?" Kurt grumbled. He heard him walking over to inspect the door. "Is the handle broken?"

"No. It's crooked. Lift it a little bit and push hard." He heard a triumphant cry and smiled. "Got it?"

"Yeah!" Then he heard Kurt get back on the bed. "Try not to get any cum on my outfit." Dave snorted and shut the door again. He sat on the toilet and frowned. He couldn't do it. Touching Kurt wouldn't help his stupid little crush at all. It would just make his fantasies worse if he knew where to touch, what Kurt found stimulating. He shook his head. No touching. Suddenly, he heard his own long, low moan and opened the door enough to look out. Kurt was lying on the bed with a hand on his stomach. He frowned then gasped as he watched Kurt slowly move a hand up under his shirt to his nipple and moan again.

"What're you doing?" he asked, horrified.

"You said I could do whatever I wanted in your body," Kurt reminded him, eyes closed. "I'm hard again, just because I started thinking about your big, sexy hands sliding down my smaller body, caressing me, and finding my cock. Touching it." Dave licked his lips and grimaced as he felt Kurt's dick harden slightly. "I can't imagine being pressed back to front against your beautiful chest with a strong, hairy arm around me and your hand around me." He trailed his hand down to the front of Dave's pants and palmed himself roughly. Dave shuddered pleasantly. "We'd both be totally naked, of course. In the shower, maybe? I'd still be stretched from the sex before and you'd be hard and pressed against my hole. What would you do, Dave?"

Dave sat on the edge of the bed and watched Kurt rubbed himself through his pants. He wondered if it was really narcissistic to find that as hot as he did. "I'd tell you how good it had been inside you. I bet you'd be really tight." He closed his eyes, imagining it, and Kurt smiled.

"I am," Kurt told him confidently. "Where would you put your hands?"

"Y-Your nipples," Dave stuttered, knowing exactly how good having your nipples stroked could be. Kurt patted the bed beside him and he helplessly obeyed, eager to keep watching.

"Show me, Dave," Kurt whispered, opening his eyes. He opened his red shirt quickly and Dave looked down at his chest without shame for the first time. "Do you like?" Dave nodded and Kurt smiled, nodding as well. "Go ahead. Touch. I'm doing it. There's no shame in it."

"You're so pretty," Dave confessed. He ran his fingers across Kurt's chest reverently and Kurt rubbed his bulge harder. He tweaked Kurt's nipples and immediately became fully hard. He moaned and Kurt echoed the sound. "So soft." He slid one hand down Kurt's chest to his stomach and looked at Kurt for permission before opening his pants and sliding a hand inside. He traced his hipbone first then stroked the soft hair. Then he slid his hand to what really needed his attention. Beside him, Kurt opened his pants and slid them down to his knees. He quickly mimicked him. They both moaned when they saw the cocks connected to the bodies they currently occupied. "You're big for your size."

"You're huge," Kurt praised honestly. "It doesn't make sense you would hide it. I love it." He wrapped a hand around the base of Dave's cock and stroked up. He reached over and put Dave's hand on his cock too. "I like a hard grip. Firmly, okay? But go slow."

Dave nodded and guided his hand as well. "Soft for me. I like soft boys so with gentle hands," he told him. "Your hands are always part of my fantasies."

"When I let myself think about you, I always imagine touching you lightly, to tease, and you being rough and passionate," Kurt confessed. They watched each other touch and stroke themselves, keeping their eyes locked together, and, before long, they stopped seeing themselves and saw the other behind those eyes. Kurt reached over to show Dave how to touch him and Dave did the same, both turning on their sides to keep their eyes locked.

"I'm," Dave choked. "I'm so close. I can't…It's so…Oh, God!"

Kurt moaned in response and moved closer, adjusting his grip. Dave immediately mimicked him. He moved his free hand to Kurt's cheek and Kurt leaned into the touch. Suddenly, Kurt lurched forward and kissed him furiously. It wasn't a very good kiss. Their teeth clacked together, their saliva got all over the place, and they even hit noses a bit but it was passionate and desperate and perfect to them. Kurt moaned and panted against Dave's lips and Dave clutched at him while groaning low in his throat. They pulled apart to cry out and came together.

They opened their eyes to look at each other and exchanged smiles and one tiny kiss before Dave suddenly felt his eyelids growing heavy. It was funny because he normally didn't get tired after he came. Then again, he was in Kurt's body. Maybe that was his thing? But he also saw Kurt looking like he was about to fall asleep. He shrugged. Oh well, right? And closed his eyes.


Blue eyes blinked at hazel and hazel narrowed at blue. They both frowned and rolled away, sitting up to stretch and wonder about their pants being around their knees. Kurt blinked a few times before realizing he was wearing silver skinny jeans, not slightly too big blue jeans. He looked up his legs and grinned at what he found. His own member, not Dave's. His spent, sticky member. He grimaced. "Washcloth," he muttered. Dave nodded beside him and stepped out of his pants and boxers before going into the bathroom. He came back with a washcloth for Kurt and he wiped at his thighs and lower belly carefully. "I'm sure that's great for my skin."

Dave snorted. "Probably not," he agreed. "I guess we didn't dream all that then." He went into the bathroom again and Kurt watched him cleaning himself up in the mirror.

"Nope. Is this how Freaky Friday ended?" Kurt asked. "They had mutual orgasms and returned to their own bodies?"

Dave laughed. "No. They learned their lesson or whatever and returned to their bodies. If they'd have had mutual orgasms, it would be really disgusting because they were mother and daughter." Kurt grimaced and shook his head. "Yeah. I guess the bitch who switched us is a pervert."

"Now, now. David, swearing really isn't necessary," Kurt scolded him, sliding off the bed and pulling up his underwear and jeans. "Skinny jeans! How I missed you!"

Dave snorted again and shook his head. "Weirdo." He pulled on his boxers and watched Kurt brush imaginary lent off his pants and grin to himself. Suddenly, doubt flooded him. "Hey, Kurt? You…You weren't lying when you said it was okay, right?"

"Yes, Dave. I lied," Kurt drawled sarcastically. He rolled his eyes and stretched his hands over his head. "Hmm. Did you do my entire face care system? Feels like you did." Dave nodded and he smiled. "Thank you."

"Yeah, well. I was feeling kinda guilty. Figured it was the least I could do," Dave told him, rolling his shoulders and avoiding eye contact. Kurt was beginning to notice he did a lot of that. He sighed and went into the rest room to adjust his appearance. When his outfit and hair had his seal of approval, he turned back to the other boy. He was sitting on the bed with the little puppy beside him, rubbing behind the adorable animal's ear. Kurt smiled. "Do…Do you wanna leave now?" Dave asked nervously.

"Yeah, I probably should," Kurt said with a sigh. "It's nearly one. My dad might get worried." Dave nodded sadly. Kurt smiled slightly again. How cute. Dave didn't want him to go. "Walk me to the door," he ordered him gently. Dave nodded again and Kurt took his hand. He caught Dave staring at their linked fingers all the way downstairs. The puppy –Kurt really needed to learn his name – followed them with his tail wagging. At the door, Kurt turned to face Dave and pulled out his phone. "Your numbers on the log so I'll save it. Mine should be on yours so be sure to do the same."

Dave nodded obediently. The dog must've sensed his master's unhappiness because he suddenly latched on to Kurt's jeans and growled, tugging on them. Kurt gasped and Dave reached down to scoop the dog up. "No, Gretzky. Bad dog." He turned around and put him back down. "Go outside. Go!"

Gretzky immediately did as told. Dave turned back to Kurt to apologize. "Well, that's one way to learn the dog's name," Kurt grumbled. "Gretzky, huh?" Dave nodded. "He was a hockey player." Another nod. "Ha. I know some sport things," he said happily, proud of himself. Dave snorted and smiled. "Okay, so, I'll call you tonight and we'll set up a coffee date. We have a lot to talk about. The bullying, today, your homophobia, your gayness, my refuge at Dalton, and, well, I'm sure we can think of a lot more."

"Oh. So, I'm gonna see you again?" Dave asked meekly, feeling stupid but in need of clarification.

"Of course. I'm coming back to McKinley after the Glee Regional competition. I have a commitment to honor –I already agreed to a solo – but I'm not going to make my dad pay for another semester when, if I get out now, he can still have a pretty good honeymoon, Finn and I not included," Kurt said cheerfully. "So we should definitely work through our differences. And find you a different outlet besides shoving me into a locker. Finn tells me you can dance. Maybe we could work something out around that." He opened the door and backed out. Dave stepped into the doorway and watched him walked across the porch towards the steps. Kurt turned at the steps and smiled at him. Dave smiled back. "See you soon, ham hock."

"See you soon, Fancy," Dave returned. He shut the door as Kurt walked across the lawn to his car. He leaned against it and smiled. He was going to have a coffee date with Kurt. Kurt was going to call him. He felt like dancing for the first time since the half time show, he was so happy. And the best part? He knew what Kurt's body felt like and what noises he made because Kurt let him find out. He started towards the stairs to go upstairs but the doorbell rang before he reached them. He turned back around and opened the door without looking through the peephole.

Kurt immediately lurched at him, grabbing his cheeks and pressing a firm, sloppy kiss to his lips. Dave didn't care how messy it was. He wrapped his arms around him and returned it. Kurt reached behind himself and shut the door. "We should have sex," he panted when they pulled apart for air.

"We really should," Dave agreed.

The End.

I know what you're thinking and the answer is yes; my endings are always this weird. Ha ha. Thank you for reading and let me know what you think.