A/N: So, I thought it was finally time to contribute to the Kurtofsky fandom! I'm a huge Kurtofsky fan, and I come to you with fic. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this, and huge thanks to my amazing beta, Tess!

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In hindsight, Dave should have stayed at home. He should have told Azimio he needed to do something about his failing grades, he needed to help his mom clean up, or even he simply couldn't be fucked and he didn't want to go to a dumb footballer-players-and-some-girls-only party at Strando's house. Whose fucking punch had been spiked almost instantly. Which was why Dave was sitting on the corner of a sofa in a room where some dumb action movie was playing on a huge TV, the sound of explosions and gunshots ripping through his eardrums and slamming into his woozy head - which was carefully cradled in his hands. Well, hand. The other was still clutching his drink like it was the last thing keeping him sane in this hell.

Puckerman made a vaguely I'm-about-to-hurl sounding noise from beside him, Dave taking that as his cue to leave before the vom-cano belched forth all over him. He'd already seen thathappen at the weird drinking assembly, and he didn't want to be the next one to get puked on after Berry.

The floor was unsteady beneath his feet as he lurched out of the room, placing his red cup down somewhere and promptly losing it among the sea of plastic around him, shaking his head a little to try and clear his vision. This had been such a big, fucking mistake and now some dumb girl was clinging to his arm and whining about dancing. Dave gently pushed her away, into the arms of some other guy, and continued past them, shouldering people aside as he went. Finally he reached the stairs, almost tripping over a couple making out.

Dave cursed softly, giving them a venomous glare as he moved past them and upstairs, finally opening the door to Strando's 'homework' room, breathing a sigh of relief when he realized it was indeed empty. The heavy beat of the music and the film echoed through the floor as Dave staggered over to the small sofa and collapsed down on it, throwing his forearm over his face and waiting until the world stopped spinning and the sickness in his stomach slowly died down.

Dave was woken from his silent stupor ten or so minutes later by his phone buzzing violently in his pocket. With a groan he scrambled for it, blinking blearily as he opened the message from Azimio.

'dud dis paty iz awsum gt a chik wre r u'

It took Dave a good few moments to decipher the text, decide he really couldn't give a flying fuck about Azimio at this moment in time, and drop his phone to the floor next to him. Fucking Azimio. The guy was supposed to be his best friend, but all he did was try to set him up on dates, or give him some bimbo's phone number while constantly asking why he didn't get a girlfriend, why didn't he want a girlfriend and giving him that damn look that so clearly said 'what the fuck is wrong with you?'

He knew exactly what was wrong with him. He knew exactly what was fucking wrong with him, and he hated it. Hated how he felt like everyone knew, that the minute anything remotely gay was brought up it felt like every fucking eye in the room was on him, David Karofsky, hot and angry and small and so, so scared. He couldn't take it. His grades had slumped. He could hardly concentrate in football; the locker room was hell... and out of everything, out of every single little fucking thing that felt like a big, angry, demonic lion was ripping his guts to shreds, the worst part was that Kurt had gone. He'd skipped his way off to that fucking gay school to be part of the fucking Swallowers or whatever their dumb-ass club was called, with that tiny, annoying little bastard that was blatantly his boyfriend, and...

… there was no-one to be angry at for that except himself. So he'd been doing what he always did; taking the pain and the hurt and the anger out on anyone who looked the wrong way at him. He'd become – for want of a better word – a dick. He knew it, his 'friends' knew it, and somehow... he just didn't care any more.

The door creaked open, Dave turning his head to look and sitting up slowly when one lumbering Finn Hudson stepped through the door, obviously drunk and not coping too well.

"Jeez, Frankenteen," Dave scoffed, "had enough to drink?"

"I need to talk about you. To you. I mean, I need to talk to you about you, and..." he groped for the door, shutting it behind him in a gesture that made Dave's fight or flight instincts bubble up. "And the door needs to be closed, okay?"

"Hudson, what the fuck are you doing?" he growled, choosing flight and staggering to his feet as Finn held out his hands.

"No, dude, calm down. Just... just sit back down, okay? I've got it figured out." Dave's hands curled into fists, cold fear swelling within him and making a light sweat break out on his brow as he took a threatening step forwards.

"You don't know shit about me, Hudson, just go back downstairs."

"No, dude, look, just... look. It's okay." Finn reached out, touching Dave's shoulder. "See? We're okay, okay?" Dave had frozen up, eyes flicking from Finn's hand to his face, his breathing laced with panic. "I know I'm not like, smart. But I'm not dumb... I know that the last time, hell, dude, the first time I ever saw you happy was when you were in Glee club with us...! And I know that you're actually a pretty sweet dancer, man, and a good singer... and... I know that you're gay, Dave," he said. "Not because anyone told me, I just worked it out a few moments ago and I don't think anyone else knows. Kurt might know because he says he can always tell but he didn't say anything, so I don't know if he does..." Finn finished, half a smile plastered on his goofy, stupid face.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Dave snarled, grabbing Finn's wrist and shoving him back – away from him. "I'm not... I'm not fucking gay...! Jesus Christ, Hudson! Just because you live with a fag doesn't make me one!"

"Hey...! Hey. Hey." Finn twisted his hand – and holy shit, maybe he wasn't as drunk as Dave hoped he was – and grabbed Dave's wrist. "It's okay. I'm not going to say anything to anyone, okay? Not even Kurt. No-one." Dave gritted his teeth, chest heaving as he shook with pent up rage and terror.

"I'm not a fucking fag," he spat.

"I just want us to be friends, okay?" Finn said, a touch desperately, his face scrunched in a way that looked like he was trying to remember something. "I want you to know that it's okay and that... and that if you joined Glee club, you'd be accepted, dude. You might get some shit about bullying Kurt, but you wouldn't get any for being gay, 'cause we're not like that. Not even Puck. Not any more." Finn suddenly grinned, as if an epiphany had come to him. "You don't have to think that if you're gay, your life's going to miserable."

"Shut the fuck up," Dave growled, trying to shove the other boy away again, his heart hammering and a cold sweat on his brow as he tried to escape, to get out of the room before he snapped and did something he'd really, really regret. "I'm not a fag, and I'm not joining homo explosion you fucking retard!"

"It doesn't matter what you say because I know you were having the best time of your life singing and dancing, and you know what, dude?" He said, not removing his hand from Dave's wrist, "I think that you were being you up there. You're not this asshole of a guy who beats people up and breaks things, not really, dude... I mean, we knew each other back when we were like, eight, and you were really cool, man...! You're actually a really decent guy underneath all this... this anger. We all saw it." Dave's breathing was all over the place, he felt sick and dizzy and god he hoped this was just some alcohol related nightmare.

"If you joined Glee, you might get a slushie in your face or some people might give you shit, but every time you walk through that door you're walking into a group of friends who'll accept you and like you for who you are, whether you're... you're black or gay or in a wheelchair or anything, dude. Surely that's worth a few slushies and some jibes, right?"

"No, it's not, Hudson," he growled after a tense second of silence, trying to push the taller boy aside again. "I don't want your shitty friendship, I don't need you and I don't fucking need Glee." He was doing fine, people were leaving him alone and that was fucking fine.

"You're going to end up pushing away the only group of people in school who are ever going to like you for who you are, dude," Finn murmured, blocking his exit again. "You don't have to give up on football. Half the team's in Glee, and Kurt used to be in the team too, remember? And I'm going to be honest, okay? At the moment... no-one really likes you and it's not because you're gay, it's because you're behaving like an ass. Sure, you might not get slushied, but even Azimio's gonna stop being friends with you soon, dude. Then you'll have no-one, and that feeling is worse than anything. Glee might not be cool, you might get called names and shit, but who cares, dude! It's fun, and you'll have twelve people there who'll always have your back, man," he said, sincerely.

"Who cares if you're not popular in high-school? High-school's just school and it's not, like, real life! What are you going to lose if you join Glee? A bit of reputation? So what! It's better to be lame and have friends than cool and lonely, right?" He said, sincerely but with the rambling conviction that only Finn seemed to have, his stupid, dopey eyes staring right into Dave's. "And if you're worried about Glee being cold to you about Kurt, then all you have to do is tell Kurt you're sorry. He'll forgive you when he knows, dude."

"Listen," Dave snarled, grabbing two fists of Finn's shirt and slamming the taller boy up against the wall. "I'm not a fag, and I'm not joining Glee. Got it?"

"Dude, chill...!" Finn said, hands gripping Dave's upper arms. "Look... out of everyone who you can tell... it's gonna be me, okay...? Kurt's my brother, and I'm not going to tell anyone about this... about you, man... stop freaking out, okay? Just... take a few deep breaths." Dave gritted his teeth, trying to shove Finn way again. "Why don't you get that Glee could be the best thing to happen to you, and why don't you get that the people there, the guys there won't mind that you're gay and that you'll have real friends. People you can talk to, and who'll actually give a damn about you! And why don't you get that the person who gives people the most shit for being gay is you, Dave?"

"Hudson, shut-"

"-You're bullying yourself, dude..." Finn said softly. "... You're the one not accepting yourself... you're like... your own Westboro Church, man..." Dave's heart was literally slamming against his ribs, every nightmare he'd had playing out in front of his very eyes as a wave of nausea washed over him.

"... I don't-... I don't give a fuck if anyone accepts me," he spat, tearing his arms away and clenching his hands into fists as Finn blocked the door. "I don't want to be accepted, I don't want to be g-..." he cut himself off, biting down so hard on his tongue he could taste the tang of blood over his tonsils. All he could think of was that one fucking kiss, the look of disgust on Kurt's face and the shock;and the terrifying realization he'd just fucked everything up a thousand times more than he usually did.

"Dave... the only person telling you it's not okay to be you is you, dude... People are changing, the world is changing and it's okay now. I used to be really homophobic. I was scared of Kurt because he had a huge crush on me and yeah, it terrified me because I was dumb and I didn't realize that Kurt's just like everyone else, and he's allowed to like boys and he's allowed to be who he is, just like you are, dude. You have to stop hurting yourself like this...!" he said softly, each word slamming into Dave like a bullet. "You didn't choose this, it's not your fault! It's like hating yourself because you're ginger or something...! It's not your fault."

Finn was still blocking the door, the dense beat of the music making the floor vibrate beneath their feet, though the room was tense and silent save for Dave's harsh breaths. His eyes were glued to his feet, shoulders hunched and tense, hands fists. He felt dizzy, his stomach churning and heaving and to his utter disgust, his eyes were stinging, throat tight around what felt like a lump of burning coal. The silence stretched on until Finn shifted, worry starting to set in on his dumb features. "Da-"

"-So what now?" Dave suddenly spat out, his voice quiet but aching, raw and vulnerable and so, so angry. "You're gonna to tell everyone what you think about me? You're gonna get your fucking revenge on me?" His hands were shaking, every tendon in his neck standing out. "You're gonna blackmail me? You want me to quit the fucking football team, or join Glee or something?"

"No," Finn said quickly, shaking his head. "No, dude... I'm not going to anything like that, okay...? I want us to be friends."

"Friends?" Dave laughed, the sound harsh and anything but amused. "Well maybe I don't want to be your friend, Hudson, you think about that?"

"... I'm pretty sure at the minute, I'm the only friend you have..." Finn murmured, the words falling heavy and painful in the air between them. "... Dave... let's get out of this crappy party."

"Yeah?" He snapped, bitterly. "Where to, genius? We're drunk." Finn's lips curled into a grin.

"I'm not drunk, dude. I'm just drinking water," he said honestly. The urge to hit something or cry slammed back into Dave, because Finn was sober, he was terrifyingly sober and he knew. He knew... everything. "Come on," Finn smiled, reaching out for Dave's shoulder again. "I've got a really good idea." Dave made a noise halfway between despair a scoff, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes. "No, seriously...! Listen. Kurt and Blaine are at home, so you should come back with me and talk to them!"

"No." The words snapped out of him as he jerked back, stumbling away from Finn and shaking his head. "No. No way in hell am I doing that, Hudson." Finn took a cautious step forwards, his voice low.

"Dave, come on, dude... in all honesty, what do you have to lose? Your friends? 'Cause you don't exactly have any at the minute. Your reputation? No-one's going to know, and besides, all you're known for now is... being an asshole." Finn paused as Dave gritted his teeth, pressing his knuckles to his eyes again. "Come back with me. You can stay the night. We'll get a pizza and play Xbox and just hang out, okay? If you tell Kurt, then-"

"-Kurt already knows," Dave finally choked out, his voice rough and pained. "He knows, alright? And so does that... that stupid little hobbit."

"Oh," Finn said, blinking and obviously caught off-guard. "Oh... okay, well, then that makes this even easier, right? Actually that all makes a lot more sense, because I did always wonder why he went weirdly quiet and defensive when someone was talking shit about you..."

"He-... what...?" Dave asked, looking up as his insides clenched and swooped.

"Oh, um... like... well, Puck was being an ass when he was round at mine and, you know, making jokes about you and Kurt told him to shut up and then refused to let him have any of the cake he'd baked... though he said that was because Puck farted at the table, but I knew he was still pissed about before," Finn said softly, pulling a sheepish grin. Dave wasn't even listening any more, the shock of Finn's words slamming around his brain harder and faster than the alcohol. Kurt... didn't hate him. At least, not as much as he'd assumed he did, because... because he was defending him, in his own house, against one of his friends. Kurt. Defending him, as a person.

The urge to cry washed back over him, but he ducked his head in time and forced it all back, sucking in a harsh breath. Finn smiled again, seeming to sense he might actually be getting somewhere. "Come on, dude. It'll be easy. I've got your back, okay?" Dave was silent, his whole body thrumming with the beat of the bass, the flush of alcohol and his own heart doing double-time, still hung up over what Finn had just said. Finally he jerked his head in a nod, dropping his hands to his sides.

"Okay. Fine."

"You'll... you're going to do it?" Finn grinned. Dave snorted despairingly, snatching his phone off the floor and righting himself as he swayed.

"I'm drunk; and if I don't get you away from here you'll do a thousand times more damage than if I just go with your batshit idea."

"Awesome! Come on, before some idiot throws eggs at my car or something." Finn turned, opening the door again and leading the way. Dave watched him for a moment before taking a deep breath, passing a slightly shaky hand over his eyes. How many nights had he spent dreaming up the perfect way to apologize? Imagining his chance to at least make things a little more right? Of having just five more minutes with Kurt, to somehow make him understand how much he regretted everything he'd done to him...? So why was he hesitating now...?

"Fuck..." he whispered, finally following Finn down the stairs and outside, into his car. It was because all those dreams had been just that. Dreams. Things he'd never really thought he'd get a chance at, and now that he had that chance... it felt like he was holding a tiny, delicate cobweb and at any moment his fingers could clumsily twitch and crush it, crush his last chance and crush any hope he had left for... anything.

Christ, he thought as Finn flicked on the radio and started to drive, could he get any more pathetic?

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading! You can also find me on Tumblr, under the name Gleekilicious. I am a multishipper, but I do like to post snippets of upcoming fics and chapters, so check it out ;D! Reviews and so on are much, much appreciated :3 thank you! Once again, a huge thank you to my beta Tess, reallytessisamess on Tumblr!