Online and Anonymous - Part 6

[sunmontue]

Title: Online and Anonymous

Pairing: Kurt Hummel/David Karofsky
Rating: PG13
Word count: ~1,700/>75,000 words
Warnings: None. 
Summary: By day Dave is a quiet attentive school student, but by night he's a smut-writing fanfic-writer who ships Johnlock. Kurt's never heard of fanfiction before Blaine tells him about it but he's about to be exposed to a whole new world.

PART ONE   PART TWO   PART THREE   PART FOUR   PART FIVE



He goes through his hours at work only half paying attention to shelving and helping customers. The other half  of his brain is going through his stories, the next chapter is already two-thirds done, but there’s no smut in this one. There’s drama and a lot of suspense and he finally gets to use the cliffhanger he’s wanted to use since he started, with John falling asleep while buried alive. He’s never going to kill off one of his main characters, but his readers don’t know that. Well actually they probably do if they’ve been reading his fic since he started. He likes the drama and mystery that Sherlock offers, but the death… well, writing fic is his way of dealing with that until season three.

When he gets home his dad has cooked dinner, pot-roast, which is one of his favorites and he knows it’s now or never to talk to him about moving in permanently.

“Dad, I need to talk to you about something…”

“Sure. You know you can talk to me about anything.”

The intense look on his dad’s face scares the shit out of him. He knows. About everything. He swallows and tries to work up some moisture in his suddenly desert-like mouth.

“Uh, I was kind of wondering if I could move here permanently.”

“Oh. I thought… of course. I take it you haven’t spoken to your mom and are coming to me for reinforcements?”

“Uh. Yes?”

“That’s fine. It’s completely your decision, and has been since you were fourteen. Just, David, I want you to know I would never kick you out, over anything. I…wanted to let you know that.”

It’s the perfect opening. The perfect opportunity to come out but he just smiles and murmurs thanks and then spends the rest of the meal feeling like a complete and utter shitty coward. God he wishes he could just say the words. He knows his dad won’t care, although his mom will freak. And he really doesn’t want to change the way his parents look at him. Or anyone for that matter. He escapes to his room as soon as the dishes are done and his dad sits down to watch something on TV. He stares blankly at his computer for a few minutes, his mind jumping all over the place and he takes a deep calming breath.

He writes furiously, the afternoon of building up ideas and creating dialogue needing an outlet and he flicks between all three documents, making notes for future chapters, little snippets of dialogue. All the while his stomach is clenching at just the idea of ever coming out. The whole idea is terrifying, admitting something this big out loud to other people. Online is different. No one knows him and there’s this distance. He could be whoever he wants to be, the fact that he’s completely himself is freeing. When he uploads the chapter it’s still early, only ten, and he laughs. This is what his weekend nights consist of now if he doesn’t have a game on. Writing and updating fic. If he didn’t enjoy it so much he’d feel a little lame. A lot lame.

He opens up his blog and starts chatting to some of his online friends, working absently on his writing in the background. He can’t turn his brain off, but he needs a break from just focusing on getting a chapter completed. It’s been half an hour before he realizes he doesn’t even have his e-mail account open, which is unusual for him. As soon as it’s open he grins. Fruitlover.

WHAT? You’re leaving it there??? That’s brutally unfair. What if I somehow die this week and never know how this ends? What if YOU die? Then I won’t know how all THREE end. I really think I need to never read any more of these incomplete stories. They aren’t good for my health, and I’m pretty sure heart problems run in my family. You HAVE to tell me what happens next.

He grins and types back a quick reply.

You really want me to tell you what happens? Even though it’ll spoil it for you?

Tell me tell me tell me. I’ll live with being spoiled. Just tell me if he lives. That’s all I need to know.

He lives. I like writing happy endings. I’m kind of a romantic.

Good. I like romance. And I mean the hearts and flowers type, not the type on this website. Not that that doesn’t have its own attraction, I just think I need more of it in my real life. The hearts and flowers. Not the smut. Well. No. Maybe. Ugh. It’s too late to be coherent.

You consider this late? Dave types, and he’s pretty sure the guy is in the same time zone. And even if he isn’t, that just makes it earlier. Unless the guy was lying about his age, but he doesn’t think so. Or he lives outside the States.

Well, not really I suppose. It’s just been a long day. And I was kind of hoping for something more pleasant to go to bed with.

Dave winces and remembers their brief exchange from last night, with him wanting more smut to fall asleep with. Ah well.

Sorry. You’ll have to find your jerking off material somewhere else tonight. Can’t write smut all the time. Sorry. :(

Oh, I didn’t mean to criticize, I’m just a little disappointed. I have another of your stories to aid me when I need it. *blush*

Oh really? Care to share which one? ;)

Does it count as a piece of information? We didn’t -formally- exchange information last time, but there was a fairly significant piece of information we did share with each other.

Dave grins and sits back, because fuck, the list of little facts he knows about this guy is slowly but steadily increasing and he’s pretty sure the guy isn’t even aware that he knows a lot more about him than he’s let on.

Hit me. Two questions. Just, nothing too stalkerish okay?

What, you mean I need to abandon my plan of obtaining your home address and making you write for me full time? *wink* Let me think though. Two questions. I feel spoilt.

Dave snorts, amused, but he hopes the guy won’t ask anything too personal. He’s not going to give away anything about himself, he’s not risking it although chances are it’s harmless.

So, I’m pretty sure you already answered this, or it could be construed from our previous discussion, but I take it you’re not out at school. You know that I am. Apparently my closet had a glass door. So, why aren’t you out at school? That’s my first question. And I’ll horde my second question until you answer. And then I’ll answer two questions for you. ;)

Fuck. He can’t even escape it online in harmless flirting. He contemplates not answering, or leaving it for a while, because the mood he’s in right now… he lets out a long sigh and taps his fingers lightly over his keyboard and then rubs at his face. Screw it.

It’s complicated. And unlike your glass door my closet is 9-inch thick reinforced steel on all sides. People our age aren’t exactly the most accepting and I haven’t even told my parents yet. My mom won’t accept it and will instantly try and figure out a way to fix me, which will sway between praying about it and organizing me a trip to a doctor to cure me. My dad. Well, I think my dad already knows. Or at least has some clue. Maybe. Bottom line? I’m not brave enough to come out while I’m in high school.

He sends it before he can take it back, or change it, and he isn’t surprised when there isn’t an instant reply like all the other times. They’ve gone from something really light hearted to something way more intense, and there’s still no reply after ten minutes.

I can’t even imagine what it would be like to not have the support of my friends and family. They’ve gotten me through some really bad patches. I can understand where you’re coming from. I wish it were different though, that it weren’t such a big deal.

Me too. Second question? Something a bit lighter this time maybe?

Yeah. Okay. Favorite color?

That’s unoriginal, but okay. Blue. Green. Both of those colors. So, my turn now. Which fic is it that you go back to night after night?

Okay. A deal’s a deal I suppose. Responsive Flesh. That’s my favorite. I might be having to use moisturizer on a particular part of my anatomy due to uh, overuse and some chafing issues.

Your hand or your dick? And yes, that’s my second question. ;)

If it was my hand I assure you I would have just come out and said it was my hand. I moisturize my hands daily as a matter of course. The other…is needing some attention.

That’s kind of hot. You could just jerk off using moisturizing lotion you know. Two birds, one stone? Or invest in some good lube, because if you’re chafing you clearly aren’t using any. :P

Ha. Okay then. I will. I’d like to tell you that you should only poke your tongue out at people if you’re planning on putting it to good use.

Dave grins, glad that they’re back to the light-hearted flirting.

PART SEVEN