Authors note; First of all, I don't own anything to do with Glee, I don't even really like it anymore. I have not watched a single episode of the second season and I couldn't care less who leaves, doesn't leave, or graduates in the third. (Although if they gave Mark Salling a spin off, that would be awesome. Maybe he joins the CIA? I would totally watch that.) Second, while this is technically a future fic - ten years after graduation, to be specific - its because I'm going to pretend they all graduated ten years ago, in 2001. Because aside from the songs they sing, high school was the same back then. And I'm not creative enough to guess the future, just particular enough to know it won't be the same. Third; this all started because I heard about the Kiss, and then I YouTubed it, and I can't get it out of my head. I have seriously, four or five ideas based on that one two minute scene. So, if you are one of those people who believe it's a terrible thing to create a relationship based off a stolen kiss in a locker room please just stop reading.

Warnings; Future fic, AU, OOC, underage boys doing adult things, slash, really OOC,

Disclaimer; Not for profit. The plot is my own. Anything you recognize was used without permission.

It was not the phone call Kurt was expecting.

Not that he was expecting a call at all, but if he was, and if that call was a blast from McKinley High past, he would've expected Finn. His stepbrother called about once every two weeks or so, an awkward conversation as they really had nothing in common. Mercedes contacted him several times a week, but almost never by phone. Facebook was her preferred way. In fact, that was how anyone from high school contacted him. And ten years later, that was pretty rare. Same old story; high school ends, everyone scatters. And while he scattered to New York as expected - courtesy scholarships, grants, and one outrageous loan - he ended up back in Ohio after a year.

And it was in Cleveland that he received a call from one Artie Abrams. In a crowded Cleveland coffee shop, to be particular, waiting for his non fat mocha grande. He felt the vibration of his cell through his pocket and didn't recognize the number. Normally he would have let it go to voice mail, but the Lima area code had him answering.

Artie didn't waste time with small talk. He told Kurt who he was and asked if Kurt was planning on going to the reunion in two months. Confused, Kurt let him know that he was, in fact planning on it. Artie sighed, then dropped the bombshell.

"You should probably stop by a book store, then. Because Dave Karofsky wrote a - "

Kurt hung up the phone without thinking about it. One second Artie was talking, the next he panicked and hit the red button, as if he could change the facts by simply not hearing them.

He didn't know how long he stood there, being jostled and stared at by others as they reached around him for their own coffees. A barista snapping her fingers brought him out of his daze and he took the cup she held out. Instead of drinking it at a small table and gazing out the window as he usually did, he walked out the door and down the street. He knew of a Barnes and Noble nearby.

Sure enough, there it was. Just a few copies stacked on a New Releases table, but to Kurt it might as well have been a hundred, underneath neon letters blinking " Kurt Hummel is a slut, and a liar to boot. Only 12.95!"

The Book sat, unopened on the coffee table. Kurt stared at it from the couch, but staring straight at it felt uncomfortable, so he got up and went into the kitchen. He didn't have an appetite, and he couldn't think of anything to do in there, though, so he went back to the couch.

THE SHIELD it says, in bold black lettering, and the cover is simple, just Karofsky's senior picture, black and white. Wearing that damn letterman's jacket, and Kurt flashes to the sound of the zipper in the back of his car. He shakes his head, violently, trying to rid himself of memories he thought he buried a long time ago. "The Tormenter Tells All" it says in smaller writing.

Karofsky's eyes stare at him, until he cringes and flips the damn thing over. The back cover is a short summary, followed by multiple critical worshipping. "This former high school bully, on his search for redemption, puts a very real face on a huge societal problem" raves USA Today, and Kurt resolves to never again trust anything they say. "Kudos to Dave Karofsky for opening up and giving us the other side of the villain," says the NY Times, and Kurt hates them too.

"Dave Karofsky, journalist for the Cleveland Sun News, describes four years with a "Hate Shield," bullying other kids to tame the parts of himself he hated. Being a footballer player and in the closet, Karofsky especially targeted a fellow gay student to hide his own preferences, only to have senior year change everything. A strange and secret relationship forms between the two, and changes Karofsky forever."

"RELATIONSHIP?" Kurt yells at the book. It doesn't yell back. "What is this, a damn romance? IT WAS JUST SEX!" He yells back. The book still doesn't yell back, but the upstairs neighbor bangs on the floor. Kurt decides not to waste his time anymore, throws the book in the trash and goes for a walk.

The walk doesn't help. Kurt's ego may not be as swelled as it was in school, but it's still there and the truth of the matter is, someone wrote a book about him and he can't help it, he has to know what Karofsky said about him. Especially if other people - people he KNOWS, for crying out loud - have already read it.

He flashes to Lima's only bookstore. A local boy writing a book? God, they would devote a big display. He'd probably do a book tour, and stop in to do autographs. Kurt feels sick again, but his imagination can't help but paint a picture, of Dave Karofsky still wearing that stupid jacket, signing books for - Oh God. Everyone he knows.

He quickens his pace. Dammit, he has to know what that hamhock's been writing about him so he can do some damage control.

Kurt reads the book in only a few days. It would have been faster, but its getting towards the end of the school year and that means preparing for the end of year concert the school puts on every year. As the music teacher, it's his big, yearly Hoorah.

But the second he finishes at school, he rushes to his apartment and opens it up. He taped a blank white sheet of paper on the cover, so at least he doesn't have to look at Karofsky while he reads his life story. He finds out quickly that Karofsky didn't use his real name, thank heavens. Not that anyone who knows the two of them won't figure it out, but maybe if he NEVER EVER EVER goes back home, no one will know. He's referred to as Kyle throughout the whole thing.

" Kyle was everything I wasn't, he was confident, he was smart, he was beautiful. Later I would find out that he officially announced his homosexuality about three years later than the rest of the school thought he did. He would walk through that hall way everyday in whatever he felt like wearing and no amount of slushies and locker slamming made any difference.

He was in the Glee club, and could hit the high notes better than any girl in there. He was the only guy I knew who wore scarves even when it wasn't cold out.

Despite that, I really didn't give him much thought. Kyle was just another geek, another person who wasn't one of us, someone to throw in the dumpster. Hell, we did it at least once a week. We ganged up on him, surrounded him, taunted him, and what does he do?

Takes off his jacket. He hands it to one of my friends, and then allows us to throw him a dumpster. I hated him for this, for reasons I couldn't explain to myself for years later. I hated him for not hiding himself. I hated him for being able to look us in the eye and not back down, even though he knew he was going to lose. I hated that, with one simple act he was able to be braver than I was ever going to be."

" He chased me into the locker room and for the first time, he didn't give me a witty quip and walk away, head held high and ass swaying. For the first time, I saw emotion in his eyes. I don't even know what he was saying. I'd always hated that I found him attractive, in an untouchable, you-can't-have-me way. But this? Eyes flashing, cheeks flushed, looking like walking sex - I kissed him. I kissed him for three seconds, and for three seconds, everything melted away and for once I was happy with myself.

I pulled away to look at him. He stared at me, but he didn't say anything, so I thought "what the hell" and leaned back in. That's when he shoved at me, and suddenly all the reasons I'd been hiding came back and hit me. I knew instantly I was his first kiss, and it wasn't what he'd been fantasizing about. Kyle just stood there, frozen, ugly shirt and big eyes, his hair messed up by my own hands, and didn't move. Didn't say a word."

"I was expelled. I had gone after him with such vehemence, I had scared him so bad, that I was asked to leave the school. To this day, I have never felt lower. Even as I was doing those things, I knew they were wrong. I was so scared, scared of losing my friends, scared that my family's acceptance of gays didn't extend to family members, scared of becoming Kyle, that I did the same to him. I scared him right back."

"I was his bodyguard. I wore the stupid hat. I did everything she told me to do, because what else could I have done? I could write a whole book about her, but it would never do her justice, because while Santana was a girl, she was just as big of a bully as me. She just used her bullying powers for good and not evil.

(Looking back, she was a damn genius. She found a way to tailor a situation so that no one lost, exactly. At seventeen, she should have been an ambassador to a warring country. They would have been too afraid to fight back.)

And she knew. She knew it was torture, being that close to him. I hated her and the same time, she was the only true friend I had. She knew my secret, and she didn't judge me for it. She would always answer the phone at one in the morning, listen to me angst, and then tell me I was normal. She disapproved of me being an asshole , and she let me know it at every turn. I didn't know where to begin making changes in my life. I was so lost, I thought about suicide daily. Santana took my hand and dragged me into the light."

Kurt stretched, rubbing his eyes. A glance at the clock revealed that if he didn't want to pass out while teaching the next day, he needed sleep. And yet, he didn't want to put the book down. The first few chapters were uncomfortable, as his own memories weren't nearly as filled with self loathing so much as annoyance and eventually fear. But the more he read, the more that feeling passed. Karofsky was a damn good writer, even though Kurt only admitted so grudgingly. He never excused his own behavior, only explained it, something Kurt didn't expect at all. He had figured it would be a "Poor me, this is why society made me hurt those kids" deal, but it wasn't like that at all. Karofsky was scared; he brought that point up repeatedly. He was scared, and he hated himself for it.

Kurt wasn't sure what do with the information. On some level, he'd always know Karofsky was a human being with feelings and desires, but he'd always preferred thinking of him as just a monster with a football tucked under his arm. And to know that Karofsky had had feelings for him? More than just wanting power over him? That changed everything.

Kurt put the book on the table and turned off his lamp. Sleep wasn't easy, though. So far, nothing Karofsky had written about was news to the people Kurt knew. They may not have known Karofsky's inner anguish, but the events were common knowledge. The next chapter was titled "Santana's Birthday" though, and knowing exactly what happened that night - any many nights afterwards - had Kurt tossing and turning most of the night.

Well - there you go. It requires quite the suspension of disbelief, but hopefully it was worth it. I'll add more if anyone's interested, otherwise I'll move on.