You see, here's the thing, Humble Readers.
On the show I am all about the Klaine Love. Nothing would make me happier than finally seeing those two get together, and by that I obviously mean have a really hot make out session.
But, in Fanfiction Land, I love me some Kurtofsky. I blame myself really, because I'm so good at writing it and my Karofsky is so much nicer than the one on the show (Ryan Murphy clearly isn't stealing my ideas any more).

My point is that I ship them both. So I figured I'd have some angsty and ever so slightly smutty fun with my two new favourite ships by throwing them all together. What larks :)

Anyway, reviews would be nice. They make me happy.

And clearly I don't own Glee. Don't be ridiculous. As if they'd let a nineteen year old pervert like me own something so big and important.

Caught in the Middle

I felt like I was being split into two – like I was living two completely different lives. I wasn't even sure how all of this even started. Honestly, I wait my entire life for one guy to actually like me and two come along at once. Typical.

Of course, there was my obvious choice. Blaine was wonderful, charming, and handsome and he cared about me so much. He was a real gentleman. Straight out of a Disney movie sometimes, it was almost unreal. We had so much in common and when I was with him... Oh God, it was like being in a dream, or a soft-focus romantic film from the 80s. Butterflies in my stomach didn't even cover it.

I couldn't believe that he actually liked me, but he did, he really did. But, as I say, he was a gentleman about it. It took what felt like several decades before he even asked me out on a proper date. He even asked if he could kiss me. When we were together it seemed like he was trying his best to keep our relationship as sweet and romantic as possible, but I could see it in his eyes that he was using a lot of self-control to do it. I wished that he wouldn't. He wished that he would stop being such a gentleman sometimes and just... I don't know, just jump me. I know it seems weird, but I'm a guy and I have needs! As lovely as all our little make out sessions were, he would always stop just as things were getting heated, and I just didn't have the heart to let him know how much his abstinence was annoying me.

It made me feel like such a heartless cheat to be going off to someone else for the one thing that Blaine couldn't give me. It was crazy. I felt like such a slut – this was like something Puck or Santana would do – but I couldn't stop myself. If I was being honest, I think it was the person I was cheating on Blaine with that made me feel the guiltiest.

Dave Karofsky had done more than just steal my first kiss. Out in the halls, in front of everyone else, he was still pretty horrible to me, but not as much as he used to be. If anything, he was being cautious. But when he got me alone it was a different story.

It had started on a rather unspectacular day. I had taken a bathroom break during a particularly dull class out of sheer boredom, and was just answering an adorable text from Blaine while checking my hair in the mirror when Karofsky walked in. He smirked when he saw me. Before that stupid kiss happened, if he had walked in looking as devious as he did just then I would have hidden my phone in case he decided to smash it, and made a hasty exit before he got a chance to flush my head down a toilet. But now I just I rolled my eyes and looked back down at my phone. I wasn't scared of him any more.

"Text from your private school boyfriend, huh?" he sneered.

"Why?" I said, looking at him and arching an eyebrow. "Jealous, are we?"

"Extremely," he said, still smirking.

I looked at him sceptically as he stepped a little bit closer to me.

"Give it up already, Karofsky," I said silkily, leaning against the sink and folding my arms. "Even if I wasn't spoken for, I'd never stoop so low as to hook up with you."

"Really?" he said. "I thought jocks were you're type. Y'know... real men?"

"Oh yeah, because you're such a real man," I scoffed. "Real men throw slushies at people for no reason. Real men hide their sexuality because of they are scared of what their silly little friends will think. Real men beat up the guys that they secretly have the hots for. Yeah, you're defiantly a real man."

"You can't tell me you're happy with that little pretty boy?" he insisted, walking even closer to me.

I stood my ground and glared at him. "Blaine is a wonderful boyfriend. A much better boyfriend than you'd ever be, I'm sure."

Karofsky laughed. "Yeah, he does seem like the perfect gentleman. Maybe a little too perfect."

"What are you suggesting?" I said, starting to blush slightly before I could stop myself.

He came even closer to me, until he was inches away.

"I'm suggesting that maybe you need something a little less perfect," he said. "A little less gentlemanly."

I chuckled nervously. "You mean... you?"

"Exactly," he said with a triumphant grin.

It happened so fast that I didn't even have a chance to realise what was going on. It took me forever just to realise that he was kissing me. But he was kissing me, hard and fierce and passionate, the way that Blaine was too much of a gentleman to kiss me. And before I knew it, I was kissing him back. Don't ask me why, I'll be the last know how my mind works.

It was messy and heated and desperate. His large hands were exploring my body as if he was determined to memorize it all as quickly as possible. He was roughly running his fingers through my hair and touching my face and my arms and my chest and grabbing my ass, and all the while his tongue was attacking my mouth with such ferocity that I could barely breath. I felt him pull me somewhere and it wasn't until I heard a door close and felt him slam me into a wall that I realised he must have dragged me into toilet cubicle. Gee, how romantic. But, to be honest, I didn't actually care. His lips and teeth found their way onto my neck and it felt so good that I had no hope of thinking straight any time soon. I moaned quite loudly, before realising that someone might hear and biting my lip. His hands found their way down to the waistband of my jeans, clumsily trying to undo my belt.

"K-Karofsky?" I whispered.

"Don't call me that..." he said breathlessly. "I hate that guy... call me Dave..."

"Erm... o-okay," I stammered. "Dave, I can't do this here."

"What – why?" he said, looking at me with his eyes slightly wider.

"I am not fooling around with you in a toilet cubicle," I said. "It's gross in here, anybody could catch us, and I'm supposed to be in a class right now."

He frowned, looking disappointed. "Right. Of course. Sorry."

"There's no need to apologise," I said without thinking. "I never said I didn't want to. Just not here."

His expression immediately brightened. "Well, I have the house to myself tonight, if you want to come over?"

Now that I've had time to really think about it, I wish I had said no. In fact, I still don't actually know why I agreed. But I did show up at his house that night, and we were both once again filled with that overwhelming need and desperation. There was nothing particularly romantic about it. It was more... vicious than that – all scratching and biting and tasting each other and marking each other. When things became hotter and harder we didn't stop like I was used to. He kept on going as if his life would end if he stopped, pulling my clothes off and covering as much of my skin as he could reach in sloppy kisses. He seemed a little more reluctant to remove his own clothes, but that desperation of his was contagious and I just wanted to touch him back.

Dave was like some kind of horribly wonderful drug. I still wasn't even sure if I was ready to go further than making out yet, but with him I did care. I just knew that I needed more of him, and I couldn't dare stop. I think he must have sensed my nervousness as I lay there naked underneath him. So he took charge, clasping both our erections in his large, calloused hand and jerking us both off, rough and fast. He caught my screams in another searing kiss, growling into my mouth. Time kind of stood still as we lost ourselves in each other until finally our orgasms hit us at the same time, my fingernails digging into his back and my whispered name on his lips.

Reality soon set back in as we lay together under his bed sheets. His face was nuzzled into the crook of my neck and his fingers were playing gently with my hair, but all I could do was stare at the ceiling, overcome with guilt.

"You're feeling bad because of Blaine, aren't you?" he whispered.

I nodded, unable to speak just yet.

"Thought so," he said sadly. "You're never going to be into me like you're into him, are you?"

"Probably not," I said quietly. "I don't know."

He sighed. I felt his hot breath against my skin.

"Do you love him?" he asked.

"I... I don't know," I answered honestly. "But I know he loves me."

"Yeah, I figured," he said, and I could tell he was frowning. "Probably not as much as I love you though."

It felt as if my heart had literally skipped a beat. "You love me?"

He nodded into my neck. "More than anything in the world."

I sat up quickly, got out of bed and starting getting dressed as fast as I could.

"I have to go," I said hastily, looking anywhere but at him. "I don't want to be home late in case my Dad starts worrying."

I could feel him watching me as I got dressed but I just couldn't look at him. I couldn't believe that he actually loved me. Now that all the heat and passion was over this all just felt weird, and knowing that what he felt for me was more than just lust made me feel even worse about all this.

"Kurt?" I heard him say surprisingly timidly.

I looked at him briefly and I could see a lot of worry and sincerity in his actually quite pretty eyes.

"What's wrong?" I said.

"I don't want this to just be a one-time thing," he said, sitting up. "I mean, I get it if you want it to be. Y'know, because you have a boyfriend and everything," he frowned, looking away sadly. "But... maybe we can do this again some time?"

I didn't even know how to respond to that. I should have just left and pretended that this never happened. Blaine would never have to find out about this momentary lapse of judgement. But instead I walked up to Dave and kissed him very softly on lips.

"I'll call you," I said.

I had a date with Blaine the very next night. His parents were away so he was cooking me a romantic meal. It was so easy to forget everything that had happened with Dave when I was with Blaine. After our meal we inevitably ended up making out on his couch. His kisses were just heavenly, complete perfection, but it just didn't feel like... enough. I tried to make it more, sliding my hand up his thigh and kissing him a little harder and deeper. But, of course, he stopped me. I groaned quite loudly before I could stop myself.

"Is something wrong?" he asked cautiously.

"No," I lied. "It's nothing, really."

"There's something wrong, I can tell," he said, sounding worried. "Please, sweetheart, you know you can tell me anything."

I sighed and frowned at him. "How come whenever we make out and things get a little heated you always stop me? I mean, am I doing something wrong, or do you just not want me in that way...?"

"Oh God, no, of course not!" he insisted. "You've done nothing wrong. I... I just thought that it would be best not to rush you. The first relationship that I was in moved way too fast – I wasn't ready to go all the way but I felt like I had to just to stop him from breaking up from me. Of course, he broke up with me anyway. But the point is that I didn't want to pressure you into doing anything you're not ready for. I don't want you to have any regrets."

"I won't," I said. "And I am ready. I've been ready for ages. If anything, I'm the one pressuring you."

He chuckled a little bit, looking slightly embarrassed.

"It's really sweet that you care so much about my feelings and everything," I said. "But stop acting like I might break if you kiss me too hard."

That was like the wake up call he needed. His eyes seemed to get a little brighter and, without any warning, he was kissing me again. It was almost the complete opposite to how he had been kissing me earlier. He pushed me down on to the couch so he was on top of me, his tongue exploring my mouth with more enthusiasm than ever before. His hands were all over my body, needy but gentle, pushing up my shirt so he could caress my stomach and my chest.

"Maybe we should... take this up... to your bedroom..." I muttered against his lips.

"Yes, yes, good idea!" he said excitedly, getting up with even less warning.

He took my hand and dragged me up too, pulling me with him up to his room. He was practically running, taking two steps at a time so I could only just keep up with him. The moment we got into his room he slammed the door behind us and began kissing me again, moving us to his bed. He was being so forceful and rough, he was really taking charge... it was wonderful. Once we were both naked – God, his body was gorgeous – he covered every inch of my skin in kisses and took my cock in his mouth, which was the most mind-blowing feeling in the world. It was like he'd been waiting to do this for years, like there was nothing in the world he wanted more than me. When we finally did it, when he was finally inside me, it was just perfection. He was really making love to me, clouding my mind of everything except him, filling me with so much pleasure, and he cried my name as our orgasms hit us.

There was a horrible feeling of déjà vu as we lay together under his bed sheets. His head was nuzzled into my neck, his fingers were gently playing with my hair, and I was once again staring guiltily at the ceiling. I didn't get why I was feeling so guilty. I'd just had sex with my boyfriend, I hadn't cheated on anyone. So why did I feel so bad?

"I love you so much, Kurt," he whispered.

I couldn't say it back, I didn't have the heart. For weeks afterwards I couldn't say it, because I didn't love him, not really. I'm not saying that I was in love with Dave either. But they both loved me, and I cared about both of them so much that I just couldn't end it with either of them.

When I was with Dave he was my whole world. It was like seeing a new side to him, a side that I really liked and wanted to be with. We would always have that passion, that messy desperation where we just had to have each other but, once it was over, all I could think about was Blaine. All I could think about was how heartbroken he would be if he knew that I was with the guy that had bullied me for years.

The tables were turned when I was with Blaine. When I was with him it was back to that movie romance, that sweet perfection that I'd always dreamed of. Sex with him was slow and gentle, but when it was over I'd be thinking of Dave and feeling terrible. It was like I was cheating on both of them with each other. I knew this couldn't go on forever, I knew that I couldn't carry on with all the lies, and I was sick with being caught in the middle of them. I felt so selfish, but when it came to Blaine and Dave... I wanted them both.

Hope you enjoyed the inconclusive angst, Humble Readers.
It's only meant to be a one-shot, so don't expect this to be resolved any time soon.
Trust me, I'll be the last to know how this is supposed to turn out.

Anyhoo, REVIEWS ARE LOVE.

xxx