Hey. So this is my first Glee fic and it's being written from a prompt I'm filling on the GKM. Below is a brief description of the prompt.

I've noticed the Glee fics tend to have warnings etc for anything that might trigger so it's best you know that at the beginning of this fic Kurt is being bullied as in canon and in this first chapter there is very brief mention of illness and character death revolving around Kurt's mother. Nothing at all graphic though.

Fill-Kurt has the psychic ability to see future major events in his life. When he first meets Blaine he feels an instant attraction but somewhere between him and Blaine getting closer, and him transferring to Dalton, he starts having premonitions of doing it with another guy. It bothers Kurt because he's supposed to be in love with Blaine (his feelings for Blaine should be all romance and very Disney) and it unnerves him how his "psychic dreams" are about another guy and are incredibly raunchy….enter Sebastian.

CHAPTER ONE

"Do NOT push me Hummel." Kurt's heart starts thudding in his chest and his eyes are drawn down to where Dave's fist clenches, his skin drawn tight over huge knuckles. 'Oh dear God what am I doing?' Kurt thinks to himself as he inches closer.

"You gonna hit me? Do it!" he challenges, adrenaline spurring him on.

"Don't push me..." Kurt barely register the threat in the burly Jocks tone or the slam of the football players locker door and how close he is now, as words start to spill from his lips, things he's wanted to yell since the bullying started weeks, no, months ago but hasn't had the courage to say up until now.

"Hit me 'cause it's not gonna change who I am, you can't punch the gay out of me any more than I can punch the ignoramus out of you."

"Get out of my face!" Dave shrieks, his face contorting with rage and something else, something agonising, resembling fear. Kurt knows he should stop, question what he's seeing in the other boy's eyes but yelling at him and getting in his face is so gratifying that he can't stop, the words continuing to pour out.

"You are nothing but a scared little boy who can't handle how extraordinarily ordinary you are!" he lectures, his finger pointing in Karofsky's face.

Suddenly Kurt feels nausea slam it's way into his stomach, roiling and churning as those big, callous hands of his tormentor roughly cup his face, the taste of burgers, just like Brittany told him, assaulting Kurt's nostrils as he breathes in, shocked, seconds before the other boy's mouth crushes his.

"Kurt?"

He chokes back a sob and shoves Karofsky away with all his might, taking a shaky step back, then another as his trembling hand flies up to cover his mouth, stifling a horrified whimper. He wants to run, wants to yell and scream and cry out that it's not supposed to happen like this, his hands falling to his sides in despair that THAT was his first real kiss.

"Kurt? Are you okay?...Kurt!"

It takes a second or two and a quick glance around at the stunned/concerned faces of his fellow glee club friends, to realise that, great, he's had another one of those daydreams.

"Kurt?" His teacher looks down at him, questioning.

Kurt tilts his chin back and forces a smile at the group, shifting a little to the left in his seat to dislodge Mr Schue's hand from where it rests on his shoulder.

"Sorry I..." he barely gets the apology passed his lips before the glee club teacher turns away and starts talking again, Kurt and the unmasked terror on his face, already forgotten.

"Okay then, where were we?" he says dismissively, pulling the lid from his red marker pen. Rachel Berry's arm goes straight up in the air, her fingers wiggling to gain attention but Mr Schue ignores her as he turns to the flip chart. "Ah yes, mash-ups..." He goes on to outline their next glee club assignment but Kurt finds he can't focus properly on what the teacher is saying as the scene he just pictured plays over and over on a loop inside his head. Suddenly, he can't hold the nausea back any longer and he dives from his chair, muttering an apology to the class in general as he grabs his bag, then slams through the choir room doors into the relative quietness of the corridor, aiming for the water fountain.

Kurt recalls other daydreams about this same confrontation with Karofsky but this one has rattled him more than the others, it's the only way to explain why he gulps down the tepid, foul tasting tap water instead of going in search of his usual bottle of Evian. Still, the churning in his stomach starts to dissipate so he tries not to dwell on it too much.

Finally feeling better, Kurt pinches his fingers delicately at the corners of his mouth to wipe away the stray droplets of water and glances around. Seeing he's now alone, he takes the opportunity to lean back against the wall, the cool air from the open doorway leading to the football field, a welcome relief against his hot, flushed cheeks.

"Damn it" he whispers to himself, dashing away the hot tears as they spill down his cheeks. He's been having dreams like this, visions if you like of the future, off and on for over half his life now but he still isn't used to how much they can affect him and how utterly helpless he feels immediately following one.

That's not to say they aren't sometimes a Godsend.

Last year, Kurt had woken up screaming in terror, his body slick with sweat and tangled in his sheets because of the dream he'd had of finding his father lying on the concrete floor of 'Hummels tyres and lube', blood pooling from a deep wound to his head. Kurt had had the same dream every night for a week, until he found out his dad had been receiving anonymous phone calls threatening him because of his 'queer' son. The next day Kurt had fudged the high note when singing Defying Gravity and the dreams (and calls) had stopped.

Of course, he couldn't always prevent these things from happening. As a child, he'd seen himself and his dad standing gravely in the cemetery, watching his beloved mother's casket being lowered into the ground, long before she'd actually passed away but there had been nothing he could do to stop it happening. Some things were simply beyond his control.

Still shaking and trying to get himself back under control, he can't help thinking back to when this had all started when he was six years old.

"Kurt, son, what's wrong?...Lizzie?...Lizzie, honey come in here, there's something wrong with our boy!"

"Kurt, Sweetheart? Look at mommy". Seven year old Kurt reluctantly lifts his eyes to meet his moms, guilt shining from the watery blue irises, his bottom lip trembling where he holds it between his teeth.

"Tell mommy what's upset you Kurt, come on Sweetheart, I can't help if you don't tell me" she cajoles, smiling at him encouragingly. Taking a deep breath, Kurt launches into his story of how Mr Benjamin, the neighbours dog, slipped from his leash at the park when he was chasing a rabbit and how he'd heard Mrs Parsons shout for Mr Benjamin to stop when he got to the road but it was too late and ….

"And he ran into the road and a car hit him Mommy" cries Kurt.

"Oh Sweetheart, when did this happen?" His mom asks, drawing him into a hug.

"Today" Kurt whispers back wetly, his tears soaking into the fine silk collar of his mothers blouse. His mom pulls back frowning at Kurt, her expression both confused and worried.

"You've been playing in the garden all morning Kurt, we haven't been to the park" his mom reminds him, smiling softly. Kurt's gaze remains downcast as he nods slowly, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"I know, that's why it's so bad because I thought it and..." he gulps in a huge breath and throws his arms around his mom's neck, "and I don't want Mr Benjamin hurt mommy, I LIKE Mr Benjamin, even if I do sometimes wish he'd go away when I'm having a tea party" he sobs.

"Oh Kurt, just because you think about bad things, it doesn't mean you want them to happen" his mother coos softly, wiping away his tears. "Oh!...listen." His mom starts smiling as she tilts her head to one side and Kurt copies her, his eyes growing wide when he hears the distinct sound of...

"Mr Benjamin! He's okay!" Kurt cries, jumping off his mother's lap and hurtling for the back door.

Kurt smiles fondly as he reminisces about his mom but that ice cold, piercing spike of dread prickles at his skin when he recalls the dreams of the following days and what came after.

"Kurt, bedtime buddy".

"I don't wanna go." Something in his son's tone prompts Burt to call his wife through from the kitchen.

"Kurt?" Sensing his anxiety, Elizabeth sits down, pulling Kurt onto her knee. "Are you still having those dreams?" she asks tentatively. Kurt nods, biting his lip and buries his face in the crook of his mom's neck. "They aren't real, you know that don't you Sweetheart?" Kurt pulls his face away, his eyes searching.

"Uh huh but she...she won't wake up mommy." His mother tenses and frowns but attempts to smile at him encouragingly.

"Who won't wake up Kurt?"

"Mrs Parsons" he whispers. "I dreamded that after Mr Benjamin...after he..." Kurt chokes on the words as he recalls the daydream he'd had, "she started crying and she fell on the street and the men in the ambliance couldn't get her to wake up" he rushes, hiccuping back a cry as he tells the story.

His mom did get him to sleep that night but, even at six years old, he could see she seemed worried. The next day, after Kurt had another vivid dream, Elizabeth called around to her neighbours house with the excuse that Kurt wanted to play with Mr Benjamin, reminding Mrs Parsons to keep the little dog on a leash when taking him to the park.

Three days later, his mom sat him down and told him that both Mr Benjamin and Mrs Parsons had died, though he didn't find out the exact details of how for another year, and that dream stopped.

Elizabeth Hummel tried to tell herself that Kurt didn't have the same 'gift' that her father and her great, great Grandfather had had and with a year of no bad dreams, she started to believe it, until she got sick. Kurt went quiet again but Elizabeth got him to talk and she listened as he told her of the dream he kept having where he and his dad were standing at her graveside. The doctors tried to reassure her that they'd got all the cancer out and that with some treatment, she'd be as good as new but Kurt's dream persisted and really, it was no great shock to either Burt or Elizabeth when they were told the cancer had spread and there was nothing more they could do.

That was when she made the decision to speak to Kurt about the other men in his family.

Kurt glances at the clock and quickly pushes himself to his feet, figuring he can get out to the parking lot and into his Navigator before the football team finish practice.

"I just need to survive the next few years until I find my soulmate" he mutters like a mantra as he heads into the bright, autumn sunshine, "then these stupid dreams will stop" he reassures himself. That's what his mom had told him when he'd questioned her more about his 'gift' a few weeks before she passed away.

"Pop never said anything about dreaming stuff, how come he never told me?" Kurt asks, climbing up onto the hospital bed, careful not to touch the various tubes and wires attached to his mother wrist and nose.

"Ahh well, the dreams won't last forever Kurt, remember I told you that?"

"Uh huh but why not?" Kurt asks, his tone filled with curiosity.

"Because they stop, once you meet your soulmate" she whispers mysteriously, stroking her fingertips gently over her son's flawless skin.

"But how will I know they're my soulmate?" he returns, his lips pursed in an adorable pout.

"Because you'll dream of her...or him before you meet them."

"Oh..." he takes a second to contemplate his mother's words as this new information sinks in, "and then I'll just know?" His mother laughs delicately, covering her mouth when the sound turns to a cough.

"I don't know exactly Kurt but your Pop told me that when he met your grandmother, he just knew she was special and then after their wedding night, the dreams stopped".

"So they stopped 'cause Pop got married?"

"No..." Elizabeth says slowly, curling her fingers around Kurt's. "I think...do you remember me telling you about your uncle Martin, my older brother?" Kurt nods, remembering he lives far away and that they don't really see him that much. "Well uncle Martin had the same special gift you have but he's not married and his dreams stopped" his mom tells him gently.

"How? Did he meet his soulmate too?" Kurt asks, his eyes wide as he leans in closer to his mom to rest his head on her shoulder.

"He did" she replies fondly, "and her name was Helen".

"But he lives with..."

"She died Kurt" Elizabeth interrupts quietly, taking Kurt's hand in her own and stroking over his knuckles soothingly. "Your uncle Martin was only fourteen when he started having the dreams and then he met Helen at school and he was so happy Kurt, so happy with her but" she stops talking for a second as another cough wracks her body. She waits whilst the cough subsides and then takes a deep breath and continues on. "They weren't supposed to be dating Kurt, her parents wouldn't allow it but they kept seeing each other anyway and when they found out she was sick..." Elizabeth falters when she remembers how distraught her brother had been when he spilled everything to her after the funeral.

"Mom?" Elizabeth takes a steadying breath and smiles down at Kurt.

"When they found out Helen wasn't very well and they realised they might not have long to be together they...they decided they wanted to be as close to each other as two people can be without actually being married."

"They held hands?" Kurt asks brightly, bouncing lightly in his mother's lap. Elizabeth laughs, her eyes shining with un-shed tears as she gazes down at her son affectionately.

"Yes Kurt, they held hands and they kissed and, well, you'll understand the rest when you're a little bit older" she explains, her heart filling with joy at the sparkle in Kurt's eyes. "Anyway, those kinds of dreams stopped, your uncle Martin never had them again".

"So I just need to find my soulmate and I won't dream bad things any more?" Kurt asks sombrely.

"That's right, though not all dreams will be bad Kurt, I'm sure of that" she assures him with a smile. "Now then, how about you go ask your dad if he'll go and take you for another juice box whilst I have a little nap, hmm? Then you can help me with a little more of that jigsaw puzzle you brought me."

"Watch where you're going faggot!" Kurt is literally slammed from his reverie as Azimio body checks him into the side of one of the dumpsters surrounding the parking lot and football field, the powerful shove and the force of the impact knocking the breath from his lungs.

"Yeah, get out of the way Ladyboy, we don't want to catch your gayness" Karofsky adds, his gaze flicking over Kurt's body from top to toe, a sneer forming on his lips at the same time his eyes linger with interest. 'Too late!' springs to Kurt's mind as he looks at the burly jock but he bites his tongue to hold back the retort as his thoughts go back to the dream from earlier. Still, he can't help looking at Karofsky defiantly, his eyes flashing with hatred.

Sensing something in Kurt, Karofsky takes a step closer, his big meaty hand closing around the smaller boy's arm painfully, ready to hoist him up.

"You got something to say to me homo?" Kurt remains mute, shaking his head. 'Please no, not the dumpster' Kurt pleads in his mind, 'this is Marc Jacobs new collection'.

"Ey! Karofsky, Azimio, get your big sweaty butts back over here, 5 extra laps!" Coach Bieste yells through her megaphone, snapping the jocks attention back to the field. Kurt closes his eyes and shrinks back as his tormentors let him go with one last shove, jogging back around the side of the dumpster towards the football field, complaints and excuses spilling from their mouths.

Kurt hoists his bag higher up his arm and hot foots it to his car, breathing a sigh of relief that he's made it through another day of school relatively unscathed.

Hope you like the start, please let me know what you think.