AU - Set during Senior Year on the run up to Christmas. Made as a companion story to Good Boy Kurt and will follow everyone else's POV except for Kurt's. All for added background illumination as the other story is obviously Kurt centric.

Rated M only

Warnings: Various adult themes, including abusive relationships, talk of rape, beatings, language etc... Not your thing, please move on… Plus it might help to read the other story to know what the hell is going on.

This Chapter covers Good Boy Kurt Chapter One

From the Other Side

Chapter One

Dave:

Sitting at the kitchen table I pick at the food Kurt's taken the trouble to make for me and I'm so fucking tired, Coach worked us really hard at practice today. God damn Sue frecking Sylvester and her fucking pull with the hockey and football boards. Fucking exams and two big matches in two weeks, I don't know if I'm coming or going anymore.

It doesn't help that Kurt is becoming more and more of a ghost flitting around school, he doesn't talk to anyone, he's just stuck with me, and he's not like me, he needs people, he needs Glee, why the fuck did they do that to him, he needed them. I'm worried sick about him.

Prodding at a vegetable my mouth twists in a mocking smile, trust him to give me veggies, if I wasn't convinced by now that he lusts over my body I'd still be hung up on the chubby comment he once made, though I'm baffled why he wont call me by his pet name for me, maybe the fact I'm the master? Does he think Chunky Monkey is too whatever?

Sighing I chew on another yummy piece of food, how does he do it? How can he make something so crappy taste so damn good?

Listening I realise I can't hear him anymore, he trotted up to greet me and seemed really happy to see me, then he gave me my dinner and vanished. Screw it, I'm getting this football game out of the way and then we are sitting down to talk, even if I have to punish him to get it out of him, the little bitch just wont let me in without a fight. And I'm done with him hiding, no one messes with me at that school, and if they can't handle us together in public we'll leave, it'll be harder to graduate, and it'll be harder to get into college but we are gonna do it, he is going to get out of this cow town and he is going to make it big.

I just don't know how to help him anymore, not since he fell into my arms after his dad kicked him out, what the hell was Burt thinking, he can accept his kid is gay but he can't accept his kid is dating? Kurt's got it so bottled up inside him I'm not sure I dare touch that one yet.

Some fucking Kurt Whisper I turned out to be, I feel like such a failure with him, I try so hard and it keeps falling apart on me. Why can't I keep him safe and make him happy? I'm supposed to be his master, I'm supposed to protect him, I'm the one who's supposed to have the answers and I just seem to flail around uselessly making it up as I go.

Closing my eyes I appeal to the only two beings I think can help me and I silently pray, "Dear God, and gramps, it's me, again, sorry about this, I know I should be grateful for everything I have, and I am I really am. But this is about Kurt, he's hurting from his dad and Glee, I don't know how to help him, I'm scared I'm gonna screw it all up and hurt him more. I mean physically he's there, but he keeps pushing me away emotionally, I'm not sure how to get him to open up and trust me with that last little bit. Sexually he'll let me do anything and he loves it, and afterwards for a while, he lets me in, no barriers, and then bit by bit they go back up and I'm all alone again." It almost makes me feel used, like a performing toy, or something.

And out of the corner of my eye I catch a glimpse of him standing there like I conjured him up. He's so beautiful. Even though he's clearly a guy he's so graceful, so full of spirit, so full of life, each movement is like a dance move, his eyes are so damn blue I could fall into them and drown a very happy man. Those lips tempt me, his body is like a siren call I can't resist, his laughter makes me smile, his pout makes me want to lay the world at his feet, and his tears drive spikes through my heart. And now I sound like a fucking lovesick girl.

Its clear God has given me my chance to talk to Kurt, to find out what's wrong, but what do I say? And then he's there next to him, that smell that is uniquely Kurt drifts over to me and makes me dizzy, I want to bury my nose into his neck and sniff him until I get my fill, which will be never.

Reaching out to me he touches my leg and I blink unsure, he's never been that grabby, he'll reach for my hand, he'll run his fingers over my face and through my hair, but this is new.

And then his fingers trace very cautiously up my leg, his intent now very clear, he wants sex. Fuck. That's all he wants from me, and my heart breaks a little, crap that really hurts.

Damn it.

"Kurt," I say, "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I…I thought that it's been a few weeks, and that you might be interested…" he trails off and I grab his wrist to yank it off my leg so I can think again. And I can see the wrist cuff he's wearing, the cuff I haven't told him to wear.

"And why the fuck are you wearing this? Did I tell you to wear this Kurt?" I ask him loudly, I can feel myself getting pissed off, he's never pulled a stunt like this before.

I know I've let discipline slide, I thought he understood with all the practice and studying I've done we've not been able to give it the full time and attention it needs.

"No, I… I thought…" he whispers and stops.

"Is that so, you thought," I parrot back. Reaching out I grab his hair and tilt his head back to look at me, I'm so frecking annoyed with him right now and those big eyes are hypnotic. Pulling him closer so we are face to face I ask him, "And did you think that maybe you'd touch yourself, that you'd jerk off without my permission too?" If he's wearing cuffs and touching me when he wants, what else has he been doing?

Why wont he just TALK to me?

Babbling he shakes his head, "No! No, I swear I've not touched myself. I promise I've not jerked off. I've not done anything, please believe me, please!" He begs me and if I weren't so tired the rush of lust would have me plundering his mouth, except that would send the wrong message of who's in charge to him. He's crap at lying so I know he's telling me the truth, damn I've overreacted.

Letting him go I watch as he huddles by my seat. I want him to know who is in charge but sometimes I think I scare him, maybe I'm not open enough to him? He's supposed to be able to bring me his problems so we can deal together, "And what's that around your neck? I don't remember that before," did he buy it and I wasn't paying attention, I know he has a lot of clothes but I've tried to remember them all.

He takes it off and hands me a piece of soft black material, a miniature collar, "I… I made it, f… from scraps, nothing expensive." Shit I think I have scared him or at least made too much of a fuss over saving for college.

Examining it I notice it has a tag, a silver bone, on one side it reads 'Kurt', on the other is 'Property of David Karofsky' and I can't help the smile that slips out, he still sees himself as the puppy, he still wants to be owned by me. I hand it back and he puts it on without hesitation, it still amazes me to see him do that, to kneel at my feet, and now he looks up at me as this huge smile settles on his face, god he is so breathtaking, what the hell does he see in me?

Strangely having him there is making me feel better and the collar he's made gives me hope, so I polish the rest of the food off, I'm gonna need the energy tomorrow. Baffled on what to say next I blurt out, "Kurt, I'm tired and just not fucking interested. I'm going for a shower and then I'm going to sleep." A nice mix of truth and lies, I am tired but I'm not dead so I'm interested, I don't need a shower but I so need to sleep.

Padding to the bedroom I strip down and then sit on the bed with my head in my hands. Oh that was smooth Dave, your big moment and you fuck it up, story of my life. Shit. Wait he said something about it being a few weeks, a few weeks since what? Damn the bed looks so soft and inviting.

A knock on the door and I call out, "What?" What is he doing out there, it's his room too.

"May I sleep in here with you tonight?" comes the polite and meek request. I have scared him, fuck it. I have to be the crappest master in the history of the world. He's supposed to be respectful not afraid.

And then another thought hits me, what if he's withdrawn because he's leaving me? Or because he has nowhere else to go he's putting up with me and really wants nothing to do with me? I mean he'd want sex, he's a guy and a teenager, we're compatible physically and he isn't faking that side of things.

Depressed I say, "Whatever," and bury my head in my hands again, the door opens and he creeps in, and I remember my mom doing that to my dad, wonderful I am turning into my dad, how long until I'm really terrorising him. Laying down I pull the covers up and suddenly I can't sleep. Why do things have to be so hard? Why can't love win the day?

"David?" Kurt asks kneeling by the bed.

"What?" I grumble at him, oh yeah that'll help, you moron, why don't I just scream at him 'coz that'll make him want to stay with me.

"I could give you a massage; just on your back to help you sleep," he offers and I'm so tempted, his hands work magic and I always drift off quickly. "After all you have a big football match tomorrow and tests," his voice is gentle and full of love.

"Fine," I grunt gratefully and he pulls the covers down, those clever fingers of his chasing down each knot and smoothing them out for me.

Sleep stomps up to me and then I realise what he meant, he's not climaxed for two fucking weeks, no wonder he pulled that stunt, tomorrow, I'll fuss him tomorrow, we'll have a quick chat now and then after the game I'm getting him naked, it'll be all about him, he's clearly been so good, he deserves a reward.

And I'm opening my mouth to talk to him and then I'm dragged helplessly down into sleep.

Burt Hummel:

Burt stared up at the ceiling restlessly. He couldn't sleep, again. Not a new thing since Kurt had gone, since Kurt had fallen fully under the power of that monster Paul Karofsky and his spawn of a son Dave.

He looks back at that moment in the Principle's and wonders why he even liked the man, at least the son had appeared agitated and upset, but Paul? Nothing, the snake was good at hiding what he really was. Why hadn't he seen any signs of what that man was, Kurt was visibly frightened of the kid, Burt should have realised the apple doesn't fall far from the tree then, he should have said something, done something to protect his son.

Sighing quietly he slips from the bed and goes to make himself some warm milk, Kurt's cure all for insomnia, for a brief moment a smile crosses his face, the memories of late nights holding his tiny son after they lost his mom, of learning just how much he loved that small kid, those blue eyes staring up at him as he reached trustingly for Burt's hand.

Sipping at the milk he stares out of the window, damn it, Kurt was out there all alone and vulnerable, please let Dave be gentle with him, please let the screams put him off, let him be less than a monster. Rubbing his face Burt scrubs at the tears there.

He has to hold onto the slim hope that Puck gives them, that in Gym class when he's changing Kurt has no bruises on his body, not one that Puck can see. When Kurt is wearing light coloured underwear Puck can see right through them and there are no bruises there either.

Such a slim hope but its all Burt has left.

Rinsing the glass Burt turns when a hand touches his shoulder, its Carole, he tries not to wake her up when this happens and she always follows him, checking that he's as okay as he can be.

Holding her he feels the tremble in his body. Taking his hand she leads him to the sofa, there's already a blanket there. How many times have they done this now? She never argues and he can see that this whole situation is killing her too she loves Kurt like he were her own son.

Laying down he smiles as she pulls the blanket up, he'll stay here for a few hours, in case Kurt comes home, in case he rings, just in case anything.

Closing his eyes Burt wonders if this time when he goes to cheer his other sons on there'll be a slender boy in the stands, if he could just talk to him, just hold him, just tell him how much he loves him.

Slowly but surely he slides into sleep, the slightest noise will wake him it has before, and maybe this time Kurt will the one making the noise.

Just please let Kurt be okay.

Carole Hummel-Hudson:

Carole watches her husband fall asleep and she carefully smoothes out the blanket for him. She knows he'll be here all night now.

Checking all the doors and windows are secure, she stops and puts her head around the kid's door. The three little angels are sleeping soundly, lost in their simple childhood world, she envies them that peace, some times it would be so nice to live that straightforward life.

In the basement the three big kids are also asleep. Finn's flung his covers off again and his leg is sticking over the edge. Tucking him back in she kisses his cheek, her sweet yet often dim son is her pride and joy, people tend to think him stupid and then he'll surprise them with an amazing insight, she wishes people would see that side of him more often.

Puck is tangled in this covers hugging them like they will run away from him, murmuring to him so he will know she's there she tucks him in too. While she finds Sam is curled angelically on his side, so she reaches out and ruffles his hair, there now he's not left out.

Walking quietly up the stairs she goes back to bed and lays down on Burt's side. It's not the same as having him here, but she can smell him on the sheets.

Tossing and turning she gets to see the hands of the alarm clock crawl closer and closer to the point the alarm will ring and then it will be time to get up again.

Tomorrow is a big day for the boys, all those exams then the big game. The game. Will Kurt be there, she wonders, will he be allowed to go? The kids are good at spying on him but he's like a ghost they rarely see him, only really Puck in the two lessons they share.

And there is the treacherous hope, that maybe Kurt is okay, there aren't any obvious bruises on his body. Carole holds the knowledge close to her heart that there are other ways to wound someone, words can be terrible weapons in the wrong hands, and the boy, Dave, is a known bully, and he has to be smart to have gotten Kurt to leave the house and go and live with him, when Kurt was clearly afraid of Paul Karofsky.

Rolling on her side she wraps the covers around her suddenly chilled body, and tries to comfort herself with what happened during the last game, Finn didn't even have the ball and two of the opposing goons had thundered towards him. And Dave had gone out of his way to protect Finn, he took both of them down, he could have gone for one and left it at that, but he took on both of them. Was it a sign he was being nice to Kurt's family, or does he just like violence that much?

A memory of a man who liked violence too much rises to the surface, of the fist that lashed out for no reason, and the bruise that throbbed for a week on her face. She knew even then that she was worth so much more, please let Kurt know it too.

Staring at the clock her vision blurs as tears fall one by one to splash on to the pillow. Morning would be here soon and she'd have to put her happy face on and be there for everyone.

Maybe tomorrow one of the Glee kids would see him; maybe tomorrow things could change.

A/N: Again it's a one shot, for now, to see if it would be worth continuing or not. Are you interested to see what else is going on, after all you are limited to just Kurt's POV in GBK.