Chapter Text
The first time David Karofsky sees Kurt Hummel, he feels something stir within him.
It’s freshman orientation and Kurt Hummel is wearing a dark blue sweater that’s a little too big on him, and something about him makes David Karofsky do a double-take. The guy looks like he shouldn’t be there, yet, there’s something about him that makes Karofsky want to reach out to him. Karofsky almost goes to talk to him, but then Rick Nelson (the same Rick Nelson that had laughed the loudest when Finn Hudson had joked about Karofsky’s pubes) asks him if he’s trying out for the hockey team, and Karofsky forgets about Kurt Hummel because there are more important things in his life, like hockey tryouts and figuring out with Cheerio is the easiest lay.
When the football and hockey teams start butting heads, it ends up becoming a competition of who can frighten the school more.
The football team loves picking on Hummel, to the point where Hummel’s seen in a dumpster more often than not. Karofsky isn’t on the football team, so he doesn’t care.
The Puckheads have their targets too, like Berry, Israel, and– damn, since when were they so antisemitic? Karofsky thinks.
There has to be some other minority to pick, to be more inclusive. There’s something not right about targeting one minority.
Karofsky joins football after discovering that Hummel joined the team as a kicker– because if Hummel could be on the team, why couldn’t he?
Karofsky’s surprised to find that Hummel’s left by the time he’s on the team, but that’s only a fleeting thought.
It doesn’t matter to Dave Karofsky, who is now part of the McKinley Titans.
He forgets all about how much Hummel confuses him until later in the school year, when Hummel’s wearing an outfit that could only be explained as runway Tin Woodman meets British Lawyer. In his defense, he didn’t even push Hummel. He was targeting the Asian girl who used to dress “dark anime,” so he thinks Hummel shouldn’t be yelling at him. He almost says it to his face, but Hummel looks directly at him, and Karofsky forgets how to breathe, much less talk.
He tries to school his features into a smirk, but Karofsky thinks Hummel can see through him with his freaky feminine intuition. Hummel’s eyes pierce through him, and Karofsky thinks his legs might give out. Karofsky comes to the conclusion it’s because he’s homophobic to the point where he’s actually afraid of gays.
He later lets himself freak out in the safety of his own house, though he doesn’t understand why.
He decides he needs to avoid Hummel, and so Sophomore year ends uneventfully, with no other Hummel-induced freak-outs.
Junior year’s better for Karofsky because he’s started getting over whatever strange thing he had about Hummel over the summer, and even slushies him a few times.
He’s safe as long as he doesn’t look at Hummel’s face, which never fails to make his mind go blank.
Karofsky’s also started to lift weights after school. It makes him feel good about himself. It’s one of those days when he’s leaving the weight room that he sees Hummel crying alone in the center of the auditorium, the door left open.
He drops his gym bag. It makes a loud thud on the ground. Kurt looks at the source of the sound and locks eyes with the other boy.
“Fuck off, Karofsky,” Hummel rasps out, and Karofsky runs away.
That night, Karofsky gets a strange email.
“Change Genre?” It says, with two buttons, yes and no, below it.
Karofsky reflexively clicks yes, and the world seems a little more charged than before.
The air is a little colder, the stars shine a little brighter, and his thoughts are clearer.
It’s almost as if he’d never been alive until now.
Dave runs into the bathroom to vomit and is shocked by how much it aches.
In a dream, he remembers the first time he saw Kurt Hummel. He remembers Kurt’s lonely eyes and the way they had scared him because Dave felt like he understood him in a way he’d never understood anyone before.
“You are nothing but a scared little boy who can’t handle how extraordinarily ordinary you are!” Kurt is in his face, and Dave’s kissing Kurt before he can stop himself. He hates himself for it.
Ever since that night, it hurt to be around Kurt, whose presence had felt so wrong but so important in his narrative, a story that was so different from the one he’d had until now. Hummel continued to be a character of a person, which meant it was easier to be his meaningless tormentor than to be so sickeningly aware of his conflicting feelings, tasting bitter bile after sleepless nights and self-loathing. Dave wished to go back to before the email, to go back and choose to suppress the dull ache of want that had always been his Achilles heel.
As Dave flees the locker room, he thinks he hears Kurt sobbing. It is as beautiful to him as it is heartbreaking.
After the kiss, Dave moves on autopilot, letting the narrative control him.
Just because he’d changed genres doesn’t mean anyone else had, after all.
Dave thinks of how Kurt tasted like freedom. He imagines he tastes like torment to Kurt.
After a while, Hummel transfers out and Karofsky is left. He continues to follow the narrative. The narrative rewards him by giving him an episode.
Dave had never noticed just how cliche everyone is, but now, it’s all he notices.
Homophobic closet case. He’s become a cliche too. Too bad he’s weighed down by so many thoughts, he doesn’t have it in him to care.