Chapter Twenty-Four:

Picture perfect memories,
Scattered all around the floor.
Reaching for the phone cause,
I cant fight it anymore.

And I wonder if I,
Ever cross your mind.
For me it happens all the time.

            The taste of Blaines lips was intoxicating. The dry, firm roll of his hips, the calloused fingers dancing over exposed skin, the rough scrape of blossoming scuff on his jaw; it was all enough to make Kurt feel drunk, his head spinning and his gaze blurring with every delicious flick of Blaines tongue.

            Itd started out as an amazing evening. Kurt had spent hours perfecting the last couple stitches on his kilt, slicking his hair into its magnificent coif and shining his shoes. Everything needed to fall in place. After all, you only ever get one junior prom.

            Dinner at Cheddars beforehand was magnificent and the limo Blaine rented was beyond expectations. In fact, everything was flowing smoothly until the prom crownings. But Blaine was his rock and he found strength in his courage, managing to handle the situation with class and pride.

            Post prom was what theyd really been waiting for. It was barely a minute past midnight when Blaine had pushed Kurt down the hall and stumbled into the parking lot. Maybe it was a little bit foolish to make out against the back wall illuminated only by a flickering lamppost, in excellent view of the narrow-minded occupants of Lima. Kurt let the adrenalin fuel him, focusing on the incredible man writhing underneath him.

            Blaine pulled back, sucking in the sweet April air and wetting his swollen lips as his eyes roamed hungrily over Kurts face. "My-my parents arent home tonight. We can go back to my place, if you want, that is. I dont want to make you uncomfortable-"

            Kurt silenced him with a hard kiss, biting Blaines bottom lip in the way he knew made Blaines knees tremble. Theyd only been dating a few months, but theyd long ago memorized every corner of each others mouths. "Id love to."

            The front door to McKinley High banged open loudly, causing the two boys to scramble into a shadowed alleyway. A hunched figure strode slowly towards one of the only remaining cars parked in the lot, a halo of gold plastic glinting on his head.

            "Is that Karofsky?" Kurt whispered, stepping forward to get a better look. "Is he crying?" In confirmation, a soft sob echoed through the streets.

            "Lets just go before he decides to start another fight," Blaine said, gripping Kurts hand and leading him down the sidewalk.

            "Wait, wait, let me talk to him. I have to make sure hes okay."

            "You have to make sure hes okay?" Blaine repeated. "Hes the one who left you alone up there."

            Kurt shrugged. "Bygones will be bygones. Besides, I understand what hes going through. And if I dont try and help him now, Ill never forgive myself."

            Blaine smiled, leaning up to peck Kurts cheek gently. "Thats one of the many reasons why I adore you. Ill wait in the car, okay?"

            Kurt wasnt quite sure exactly what he was going to say to Dave as he walked toward him. He ran over inspirational speeches and quotes in his head, but none of them seemed to fit the situation. Karofsky was leaning up against the hood of his blue Subaru, arms crossed over his chest and his head bent as fat tears slipped down his cheeks.

            Kurt cleared his throat. "Um, hi."

            David jumped, dragging his sleeve across his face and hissing out in a nasally voice, "Leave me the fuck alone."

            Kurt swallowed. "Im sorry about what happened tonight. I shouldnt have pressured you to come out and I understand if youre mad at me-"

            "Im not mad at you, you fucking idiot," Karofsky cursed, suddenly animated with fury. "Im mad at myself, dont you see? Im too much of a damn coward to admit how I feel. God, I wish I didnt have to be this way." He slumped, looking defeated, shoulders shaking. "I wish I wasnt like this. How could anyone think this is a choice?"

            Kurt sighed. "It sucks and it sucks a lot, but theres nothing we can do to change it. People are going to shoot you down and beat you up and tell you that who you fall in love with is wrong, but you have got to stay strong. Youre not really living if youre not being open about who you are, you know? The longer you stay in the closet, the more time youre wasting. Who care what anyone thinks? The only opinion that matters is yours."

            Karofsky nodded numbly. "Im just-Im not ready. My dad would kill me and my friends...I just cant do it yet," he croaked.

            Kurt rested his hand on his elbow in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "Youre only seventeen. You have time to sort out your life. And hey, if your friends dont accept who you are, then theyre not truly your friends. Youre always welcome in the glee club, I hope you know that."      

            David sniffed. "Like thatll ever happen," he answered jokingly.

            Kurt chuckled. "It was worth a try."

            "Thank you, Kurt."

            Kurts heart flip-flopped. It was the first truly nice thing hed ever heard David say to him. "Youre welcome, Dave. Youre welcome."

            When Santana had called him and told Kurt exactly who shed seen winding his way around a stripper pole, he had been in absolute disbelief. David Karofsky, a husky jock with a history of homophobia and still in the closet was working as an exotic dancer. David Karofsky whod almost killed himself at the faintest sign of being outed was now an openly gay member of the Catscratch club.

            It had taken three days and a whole lot of chocolate to convince Santana to even talk to Dave. And then a new pair of blood red spiked heels to have her invite him to lunch. Kurt insisted that Santana not tell Dave that he was going to be there and in turn, Santana had insisted she not be present at all.

            He wasnt sure how Dave would react. There was a massive possibility that he would simply turn and walk right out the door without so much as a backwards glance. Kurt was half nervous, half excited, and entirely curious. What had happened to Davids football career? How did he get to New York? Kurt had cleared his entire afternoon just to find out the answers to those questions that would not stop ringing in the back of his mind.  

            Kurts head snapped towards the door as the entrance bell jingled for what felt like the hundredth time. He took a slow sip of his coffee, willing his nerves to quiet down as he kept his eyes at the front of the deli. How the fuck was it possible to be this anxious over something so silly?

            "Kurt?"

            Kurt nearly fell out of his chair, spraying scalding mocha all over the tables sticky surface and burning his knuckle. "Oh, fuck," he cursed, dabbing his hand with a napkin before stumbling to his feet. And there he was. David Karofsky had lost a lot of weight. He was practically skin and bones, with a pair of white-washed jeans hanging loosely off his hips and a navy button down that swallowed his slim torso. Daves dark brown hair was combed to the side with what appeared to be a decent amount of cotton candy-scented hair gel.

            He glanced up at Kurt through his lashes, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I didnt know-whatre you doing here? Wheres Santana?"

            Kurt swallowed hard and motioned to the vacant seat across from him. "Wont you sit down?" he asked politely.

            Dave frowned and took a hesitant step backward. "I really dont think thats a good idea. I have things to do and places to be-"

            "David," Kurt interrupted. "Sit. Please."

            He inhaled shakily and conceded. "I shouldve known youd be here," he said, tone not quite condescending but rather reproachful as if he was waiting for Ashton Kutcher to pop out and claim hed been PUNKd.  "And Im guessing Berrys hiding somewhere too?"

            Kurt smiled. "Shes back at the apartment we share. Were kind of a package deal."

            They sat in awkward silence filled only by the clinking of coffee mugs and idle chatter upheld by surrounding customers. "Howve you been?" Kurt inquired finally.

            David squirmed uncomfortably. "Ive been...Well, Ive been busy," he replied. "A-and you?"

            "Things were rocky, but now theyre back on track. I had no idea youd made it to New York. How long have you been living here?" Kurt wanted to know, leaning forward to hear better.

            He took a long time to answer, clearly putting a lot of thought into choosing a careful response. "I got a football scholarship to Brown," David said, "and I accepted it. My dad was thrilled, of course. But the more I stayed there, the more I knew it was the wrong option. I never really loved football-that was always my dad forcing it onto me. So around Christmas my sophomore year, I told him. About everything. About my hate for the sport, my failing grades, my sexuality. He told me I wasnt his son. I told him that hed never been my father. And then I came here." He paused, wringing his hands together. "All that talk about it being the city of dreams and romance made me believe it was real. I took a chance, I guess. I kind of hoped it would bandage my severed soul."

            Kurt fished for something fitting to say. "I-Im sorry about your dad, but Im glad you were finally able to come out."

            "Its been hard but at least I dont feel like Im keeping some suffocating secret anymore. I assume Santanas told you about my profession." Straight to the chase.

            "Um, yes. I hope you dont mind. Shes got a big mouth."

            David smirked. "Its alright. Im not ashamed. Exotic dancing has become a part of me over the past few years. I dont mind it. Its a great way to meet new guys."

            Kurt stammered, utterly confused. David Karofsky was open and proud, in fact, of his sexuality. This was all just some major joke, Kurt was sure. "So are you dating anyone?"

            David quirked an amused eyebrow. "Are you coming onto me, Mr. Hummel?"

            Spluttering, Kurt choked out, "I-no, of course not."

            He laughed. "Its alright, Im just teasing you. Dont be so nervous, I wont bite. Unless you pay me." And then at Kurts astounded stare, "Kidding. But no, Im currently single. Not a lot of guys are interested in someone like me."

            "Someone like you? You mean an...exotic dancer?" Kurt asked.

            Dave shook his head. "No, not that. Believe it or not, a lot of guys are into that. No, Im talking about my condition. I have HIV."