fic: as we combust: puck/kurt
Title: As We Combust (1/1)
Series: Music Is What Feelings Sound Like
Pairing: Puck/Kurt (so getting there)
Rating: There's smut. NC-17, maybe? I'm bad with rating this stuff.
Fandom: Glee
Summary: Kurt dreams.
Disclaimer: Very much not mine, sadly.
Notes: Guh. First off, this idea has been kicking around for a couple of weeks. I had decided I wasn't going to write it (I have a few ideas for the next few stories, though I have a feeling that this story will change everything). Anyway, it wasn't going to be written, but nooooo, Kurt demanded otherwise. So here you go. Also, there I've provided a picture of something similar to what Puck is wearing, but I don't want you to see it yet, so you'll have to wait until the end.
The songs for this installment are Bloodletting, Be My Druidess, and Rev 22.20. Druidess and Rev are sex songs, period. You might want to listen to all three of them as you read; it'll help. Trust me.
Past stories in this series: A Funny Thing Happened on the Way Home | Giving off Sparks | Love is Friendship Set on Fire | Hard Habit to Break | Worn Out Faces | Where Do We Go Now | You Arrested My Mind
It was that damn song.
It was that ridiculous song that had Kurt stuck here, in the middle of this dream that he couldn't seem to wake himself up from.
Not that he really wanted to wake up, mind you.
Tina had given him a CD of "gothic" songs - which really amounted to nothing more than songs with a harder edge, songs that he never would really listen to, except that he did. He did listen to them, and he really didn't mind most of them. A lot of them were sexual in nature, and while Kurt felt embarrassed to listen to a song that actually contained the line I'll do anything to make you come, Kurt liked the song. Between that and a song from the Underworld soundtrack, Kurt was in overdrive thinking about sex. But it wasn't the sexual songs that prompted the dream. Oh no, it was just a simple little song that Kurt listened to for a couple of times before the whole subject of the song really sunk in.
It was about vampires.
That's what prompted this dream Kurt couldn't get out of.
He was dressed in a pin striped suit; Kurt knew immediately that it was Halloween. That was what he had worn to the little party the glee club had several months prior; he had worn a pin striped suit and a fedora, trying his best to pull off gangster. He had a plastic Tommy gun to go with it.
The dream even started out the same way it went when he got to the party. "Kurt," Mercedes said, hand on her hip. Kurt looked her over, trying to figure out where to start with her fashion faux pas. It always seemed so hit and miss with her. Sometimes she could pull it off, and sometimes her fashion choices were so, so damn tragic. "Kurt, what are you? I thought you were coming as a gang member."
Kurt looked down at himself, wondered what part of the pin striped suit and Tommy gun didn't scream gangster. He looked back up at Mercedes. "I did extensive research, Mercedes. This is very similar to what they wore in the 20s and 30s. I even have a white silk hankie and an expensive watch chain, just like Al Capone did." Kurt opened his jacket, slipping his hand in to pull the nice watch chain out of his suit.
"...oh," Mercedes said. "When you said gang, I thought you meant a street gang. A current street gang."
Kurt made a face. "Mercedes," he said, his voice haughty. "Of course I meant the Al Capone type of gangster. Do you see what I'm wearing? Besides, I'm not sure I could pull off wife beater or football jersey, or whatever it is gang members wear."
This is where the dream changed. Puck had come to the party with Finn and Quinn, and at the actual party, Puck had come dressed as a football player. Rachel tried to tell him that he couldn't be just a football player because he already was a football player, but this just prompted Puck to look down at his jersey and point to the number 5. "I'm dressed as the QB, which is so what I'm not." He had pulled on Finn's jersey and called it a costume.
It was kind of douchey, Kurt thought, the way Puck didn't even bother to find a costume, but then Puck started spiking the punch and no one cared too much that he went the lazy way.
In the dream though, Puck went all out. He came in wearing something from centuries before; a ruffled white shirt (and there was lace everywhere, billowing from his collar and from his sleeves), an intricately detailed midnight blue waistcoat and long overcoat, boots and nice fitting blue slacks. The detail of the embroidery on the waist coat and overcoat took Kurt's breath away. He wondered how it would feel, if the clothing was as soft as it looked from across the room.
Puck caught Kurt watching, and smiled faintly, the sharpest of fangs peeking out from under his lips. Puck slowly ran his tongue along the tip, and Kurt had to look away. He had a feeling, right then and there, this dream was going to seriously mess with his head.
Everything seemed fine though, and actually, the dream got kind of boring. The punch wasn't spiked, so there was a lot of standing around and talking to the same people they saw every day. Inevitably, it turned to Rachel talking about how she would become a star, or what song Mr. Shue should give to them next, or homework that was due for Monday - Kurt was so bored. Bored out of his skull because of this ridiculous dream he was ready to wake up from. At least he had had fun at the real Halloween party.
He was drunk, but he had had fun.
Feeling eyes on the back of his neck, for the tenth time that night, Kurt turned to see who was watching him. No one was though, and no one looked guilty like they had been watching. It was unnerving how eyes seemed to follow him. He could never catch anyone watching him, so he had no idea who it could be.
Kurt shivered suddenly; his sixth sense told him someone was coming for him. He turned again, and this time, Puck was watching him. Kurt tilted his head; he couldn't figure out the look on Puck's face. It seemed blank almost, but not - there was no emotion on his face, but his eyes were white hot burning, enough to make Kurt's heart start pounding faster. They smoldered (which Kurt had been surprised that he could pull off in his dreams, as he had never seen someone's eyes smolder, nor did he know how eyes could smolder. He got it now), causing Kurt to shift. The way Puck looked at him made Kurt uncomfortable, it made him feel flayed and wide open for Puck's inspection. He suddenly felt like the little kid trying to sit at the adult's table in an oversized suit, pretending his hardest to participate in a conversation he didn't understand.
Puck glided - glided - across the living room, moving right in to Kurt's personal space. Kurt was far too freaked out to do anything about it, motionless in his spot as if his feet had grown roots and broke through the floor to plant him there. He could not move. "Kurt," Puck murmured quietly, tongue sliding along those fangs. Kurt was sure they were razor sharp and wondered how Puck didn't cut his tongue.
There was something different about Puck. He was still him, still that football player whose layers Kurt was slowly peeling away, but he was... different. He was more - Kurt couldn't think of a word other than regal. That made no sense, really, but there was something about the way Puck carried himself. There was a quiet stillness about Puck that Kurt was sure didn't really exist in the other teenager.
"Pu-" Kurt stopped. Puck didn't sound right. "Noah," he amended. For this moment, for these few minutes that they talked, Puck would be Noah. It sounded more like who this man was in this particular dream.
"Let's go, I want to talk to you."
Kurt didn't think twice as he followed Puck down the hallway, heading toward a random bedroom. The scenery had changed; they weren't at Brittany's house anymore. He had no idea where they were, he just knew that there was a long hallway and Puck was walking down it purposefully, strides long and graceful, shoulders back and head held high. Finally, Puck stopped, pushing open the door to his left.
Kurt stepped through first.
The bedroom looked Victorian, which suited the costume Puck wore. Kurt set his fake Tommy gun down, feeling so out of place. Puck, on the other hand, moved around the room like he belonged there. Kurt watched him as he moved through the room, fingers trailing along the furniture. Even though he hadn't worn a wig - instead he'd stayed with the mohawk, albeit trimmed neatly - for some reason, it worked. "Noah," Kurt started, but Puck turned, looked at him, rooted him to his spot once again.
"I've seen you watching me," Puck said, his voice low. It was almost physical, and Kurt had to close his eyes for a moment, had to keep himself from swaying as he felt Puck’s voice wash over him. It moved up his spine like a living thing. "I've seen you watching me, Kurt, and I know how you feel about me. I know that you want me."
Kurt swallowed hard, opening his eyes to look at Puck. He did, it was true. He wanted Puck more than he'd ever wanted Finn, but he had never said it out loud, knowing that as soon as he said it out loud, he would have to take ownership of the words and give them life. At least if he kept it to himself, he could ignore them if he wanted to.
The look on Puck's face was surprising. His eyes smoldered, but there was more there. His lips were parted, the tips of his fangs just barely peaked out from under those lips. "Do you like them?" Puck murmured. "Do you want me to bite you?"
Kurt nodded without even realizing he was. He blinked, as soon as he realized, momentarily horrified that he had been swept away and lost in the moment. He frantically tried to figure out how to backtrack, how to cover his automatic reaction, but Puck was coming toward him, slowly. Puck was coming toward him, with those smoldering eyes, and this moment was way, way more intense than the moment had been out in the middle of the party. Kurt's skin was alive, electric; he could feel everything, up to and including the way the air brushed over the back of his hands and neck. It was a soft caress, and further served to heighten Kurt's awareness and arousal.
Because suddenly, Kurt realized just how aroused he was. He was hard and aching, pressing against the slacks he wore. Kurt thought he should shift, at least adjust himself so it wasn't quite as uncomfortable, but he couldn't move. His whole body was still, and he couldn't even breathe.
Puck got to him and ran long fingers down Kurt's arm. His hands went back to Kurt's shoulders, slowly pulling the jacket off. Kurt didn't even twitch when Puck threw it to the side. He was far, far too enraptured in this boy's gaze to worry about hanging the jacket up. The fedora came next, then Puck took his time to untie Kurt's tie. There was something about the gentle strength of Puck's hands; Kurt suddenly wanted them all over his body. "Noah," he said, whimpering helplessly. He didn't know what was going on, and somehow he knew this shouldn't be happening. Even in his dreams, Puck wouldn't be seducing him.
It was too much to hope for.
Puck ran his fingers up the silk of Kurt's shirt, causing Kurt to shiver hard. "Shh," he murmured. "Let me take care of you." Kurt shivered again when Puck licked his lips, watching Kurt's neck as he unbuttoned the top buttons of Kurt's shirt. He wasn't even watching Kurt's face, and the stray thought of He really is staying in character! made its way through Kurt's head right before flying right back out. Puck was lowering his head. Puck was lowering his head and Kurt felt like he was going to spontaneously combust.
Now, Kurt had never done anything with anyone in the real world. Of course, he had had wet dreams over the last couple of years, but he had never had anything this real. He had no idea that his neck would be so sensitive, but it was. He couldn't help but buck against Puck when that mouth finally touched the skin of his neck. Puck wrapped his arms around Kurt, and another momentary thought entered and left his head: He's holding me tighter than I thought he ever would. Kurt didn't mind though, it only served to push him tightly against Puck. Puck's thigh made its way between Kurt's, and Kurt could only groan as he started rocking down against the muscular leg. He gripped Puck's shoulders, twisting his fingers in the gorgeous fabric that made up his friend's costume.
There was a sharp bite of pain at Kurt's neck, but it bordered on pleasure. Instead of making Kurt push away, he only wrapped tighter around Puck, rocking harder against that thigh, gripping that fabric tighter than he was before. His head was swimming with desire, he was moaning (and probably loud enough that the rest of the party could hear it over the thump, thump, thump of the bass reverberating through the walls), and he had never been as turned on as he was at that moment with Puck sucking on his neck.
The mohawked head pulled back with a smile, and it took Kurt a long, drowsy moment to focus. He frowned slightly. "Puck?" he asked, trying to shake the fuzzy feeling out of his head. He had heard once that someone could be dizzy with desire, but he had no idea it felt like this. Puck smiled, fangs longer than they were before, mouth bright red and bloody. Kurt raised his hand, brushing against his neck.
A shock bolted through him when his fingers slicked across skin, coming away coated in blood. "Puck, I don't understa-" There was a small voice, somewhere in the back of his head, that said Run, Kurt Hummel, fucking run!, but Kurt couldn't pull away if he wanted to. He was locked in Puck's embrace. He wasn't sure he was strong enough to pull away if he even wanted to. For some reason, he wasn’t surprised that he didn’t want to.
"You're a vampire," Kurt said, realization dawning on him. There was panic, obviously; Kurt didn't want to die. It swept through him and fought with the overwhelming desire that still flooded his veins. Surprisingly, he grew harder.
"I am," Puck said, licking his lips slowly. Kurt focused on that tongue, on the way he cleaned away the bright red blood - the bright red blood that had been inside of him only moments before. He couldn't look away, horrified and aroused. "I am a vampire, and I'm making you mine."
"Yours?" Kurt asked, looking up. He didn't understand.
Puck leaned down, and Kurt could smell the coppery scent of his blood on Puck's words. "Forever, Kurt. You are mine forever." He dropped his head, his teeth sinking into Kurt's neck at the exact moment Puck's hand tightened against Kurt's back, pulling Kurt tight against his chest.
Kurt cried out, eyes closing as heat coated him.
When Kurt jerked awake, he was panting, staring at the dark ceiling of his bedroom. He reached out, feeling the side of the bed, looking for Puck. It took him a moment to realize that he was, in fact, in his bed. He wasn't in a random Victorian bedroom, trapped in Puck's arms. He was in his own bed, safe and alive - he checked his neck and felt no blood, no puncture wounds, nothing that would indicate he had been bitten by a creature of the night. Kurt breathed a heavy sigh of relief, even as he looked down and realized that his dream had caused him to have an orgasm.
"Damn," he breathed, not wanting to get up to clean it up. Oddly, what he really wanted to do was go back to sleep and see how the dream would finish.
With a heavy sigh, and even heavier limbs, he crawled out of bed to take care of business.
The back of his neck prickled though, and Kurt turned around, peering into the darkness of his bedroom. There was no one there, and Kurt knew there wasn't. That didn't mean there wasn't some quiet, wishful part of him that wanted that vampire version of his friend to come out of the shadows.
"Damn it," Kurt murmured again. He was in so, so much trouble now.
.end.
authors note: Puck's costume looked much like Tom Cruise's in this picture. Guh, okay.
Series: Music Is What Feelings Sound Like
Pairing: Puck/Kurt (so getting there)
Rating: There's smut. NC-17, maybe? I'm bad with rating this stuff.
Fandom: Glee
Summary: Kurt dreams.
Disclaimer: Very much not mine, sadly.
Notes: Guh. First off, this idea has been kicking around for a couple of weeks. I had decided I wasn't going to write it (I have a few ideas for the next few stories, though I have a feeling that this story will change everything). Anyway, it wasn't going to be written, but nooooo, Kurt demanded otherwise. So here you go. Also, there I've provided a picture of something similar to what Puck is wearing, but I don't want you to see it yet, so you'll have to wait until the end.
The songs for this installment are Bloodletting, Be My Druidess, and Rev 22.20. Druidess and Rev are sex songs, period. You might want to listen to all three of them as you read; it'll help. Trust me.
Past stories in this series: A Funny Thing Happened on the Way Home | Giving off Sparks | Love is Friendship Set on Fire | Hard Habit to Break | Worn Out Faces | Where Do We Go Now | You Arrested My Mind
It was that damn song.
It was that ridiculous song that had Kurt stuck here, in the middle of this dream that he couldn't seem to wake himself up from.
Not that he really wanted to wake up, mind you.
Tina had given him a CD of "gothic" songs - which really amounted to nothing more than songs with a harder edge, songs that he never would really listen to, except that he did. He did listen to them, and he really didn't mind most of them. A lot of them were sexual in nature, and while Kurt felt embarrassed to listen to a song that actually contained the line I'll do anything to make you come, Kurt liked the song. Between that and a song from the Underworld soundtrack, Kurt was in overdrive thinking about sex. But it wasn't the sexual songs that prompted the dream. Oh no, it was just a simple little song that Kurt listened to for a couple of times before the whole subject of the song really sunk in.
It was about vampires.
That's what prompted this dream Kurt couldn't get out of.
He was dressed in a pin striped suit; Kurt knew immediately that it was Halloween. That was what he had worn to the little party the glee club had several months prior; he had worn a pin striped suit and a fedora, trying his best to pull off gangster. He had a plastic Tommy gun to go with it.
The dream even started out the same way it went when he got to the party. "Kurt," Mercedes said, hand on her hip. Kurt looked her over, trying to figure out where to start with her fashion faux pas. It always seemed so hit and miss with her. Sometimes she could pull it off, and sometimes her fashion choices were so, so damn tragic. "Kurt, what are you? I thought you were coming as a gang member."
Kurt looked down at himself, wondered what part of the pin striped suit and Tommy gun didn't scream gangster. He looked back up at Mercedes. "I did extensive research, Mercedes. This is very similar to what they wore in the 20s and 30s. I even have a white silk hankie and an expensive watch chain, just like Al Capone did." Kurt opened his jacket, slipping his hand in to pull the nice watch chain out of his suit.
"...oh," Mercedes said. "When you said gang, I thought you meant a street gang. A current street gang."
Kurt made a face. "Mercedes," he said, his voice haughty. "Of course I meant the Al Capone type of gangster. Do you see what I'm wearing? Besides, I'm not sure I could pull off wife beater or football jersey, or whatever it is gang members wear."
This is where the dream changed. Puck had come to the party with Finn and Quinn, and at the actual party, Puck had come dressed as a football player. Rachel tried to tell him that he couldn't be just a football player because he already was a football player, but this just prompted Puck to look down at his jersey and point to the number 5. "I'm dressed as the QB, which is so what I'm not." He had pulled on Finn's jersey and called it a costume.
It was kind of douchey, Kurt thought, the way Puck didn't even bother to find a costume, but then Puck started spiking the punch and no one cared too much that he went the lazy way.
In the dream though, Puck went all out. He came in wearing something from centuries before; a ruffled white shirt (and there was lace everywhere, billowing from his collar and from his sleeves), an intricately detailed midnight blue waistcoat and long overcoat, boots and nice fitting blue slacks. The detail of the embroidery on the waist coat and overcoat took Kurt's breath away. He wondered how it would feel, if the clothing was as soft as it looked from across the room.
Puck caught Kurt watching, and smiled faintly, the sharpest of fangs peeking out from under his lips. Puck slowly ran his tongue along the tip, and Kurt had to look away. He had a feeling, right then and there, this dream was going to seriously mess with his head.
Everything seemed fine though, and actually, the dream got kind of boring. The punch wasn't spiked, so there was a lot of standing around and talking to the same people they saw every day. Inevitably, it turned to Rachel talking about how she would become a star, or what song Mr. Shue should give to them next, or homework that was due for Monday - Kurt was so bored. Bored out of his skull because of this ridiculous dream he was ready to wake up from. At least he had had fun at the real Halloween party.
He was drunk, but he had had fun.
Feeling eyes on the back of his neck, for the tenth time that night, Kurt turned to see who was watching him. No one was though, and no one looked guilty like they had been watching. It was unnerving how eyes seemed to follow him. He could never catch anyone watching him, so he had no idea who it could be.
Kurt shivered suddenly; his sixth sense told him someone was coming for him. He turned again, and this time, Puck was watching him. Kurt tilted his head; he couldn't figure out the look on Puck's face. It seemed blank almost, but not - there was no emotion on his face, but his eyes were white hot burning, enough to make Kurt's heart start pounding faster. They smoldered (which Kurt had been surprised that he could pull off in his dreams, as he had never seen someone's eyes smolder, nor did he know how eyes could smolder. He got it now), causing Kurt to shift. The way Puck looked at him made Kurt uncomfortable, it made him feel flayed and wide open for Puck's inspection. He suddenly felt like the little kid trying to sit at the adult's table in an oversized suit, pretending his hardest to participate in a conversation he didn't understand.
Puck glided - glided - across the living room, moving right in to Kurt's personal space. Kurt was far too freaked out to do anything about it, motionless in his spot as if his feet had grown roots and broke through the floor to plant him there. He could not move. "Kurt," Puck murmured quietly, tongue sliding along those fangs. Kurt was sure they were razor sharp and wondered how Puck didn't cut his tongue.
There was something different about Puck. He was still him, still that football player whose layers Kurt was slowly peeling away, but he was... different. He was more - Kurt couldn't think of a word other than regal. That made no sense, really, but there was something about the way Puck carried himself. There was a quiet stillness about Puck that Kurt was sure didn't really exist in the other teenager.
"Pu-" Kurt stopped. Puck didn't sound right. "Noah," he amended. For this moment, for these few minutes that they talked, Puck would be Noah. It sounded more like who this man was in this particular dream.
"Let's go, I want to talk to you."
Kurt didn't think twice as he followed Puck down the hallway, heading toward a random bedroom. The scenery had changed; they weren't at Brittany's house anymore. He had no idea where they were, he just knew that there was a long hallway and Puck was walking down it purposefully, strides long and graceful, shoulders back and head held high. Finally, Puck stopped, pushing open the door to his left.
Kurt stepped through first.
The bedroom looked Victorian, which suited the costume Puck wore. Kurt set his fake Tommy gun down, feeling so out of place. Puck, on the other hand, moved around the room like he belonged there. Kurt watched him as he moved through the room, fingers trailing along the furniture. Even though he hadn't worn a wig - instead he'd stayed with the mohawk, albeit trimmed neatly - for some reason, it worked. "Noah," Kurt started, but Puck turned, looked at him, rooted him to his spot once again.
"I've seen you watching me," Puck said, his voice low. It was almost physical, and Kurt had to close his eyes for a moment, had to keep himself from swaying as he felt Puck’s voice wash over him. It moved up his spine like a living thing. "I've seen you watching me, Kurt, and I know how you feel about me. I know that you want me."
Kurt swallowed hard, opening his eyes to look at Puck. He did, it was true. He wanted Puck more than he'd ever wanted Finn, but he had never said it out loud, knowing that as soon as he said it out loud, he would have to take ownership of the words and give them life. At least if he kept it to himself, he could ignore them if he wanted to.
The look on Puck's face was surprising. His eyes smoldered, but there was more there. His lips were parted, the tips of his fangs just barely peaked out from under those lips. "Do you like them?" Puck murmured. "Do you want me to bite you?"
Kurt nodded without even realizing he was. He blinked, as soon as he realized, momentarily horrified that he had been swept away and lost in the moment. He frantically tried to figure out how to backtrack, how to cover his automatic reaction, but Puck was coming toward him, slowly. Puck was coming toward him, with those smoldering eyes, and this moment was way, way more intense than the moment had been out in the middle of the party. Kurt's skin was alive, electric; he could feel everything, up to and including the way the air brushed over the back of his hands and neck. It was a soft caress, and further served to heighten Kurt's awareness and arousal.
Because suddenly, Kurt realized just how aroused he was. He was hard and aching, pressing against the slacks he wore. Kurt thought he should shift, at least adjust himself so it wasn't quite as uncomfortable, but he couldn't move. His whole body was still, and he couldn't even breathe.
Puck got to him and ran long fingers down Kurt's arm. His hands went back to Kurt's shoulders, slowly pulling the jacket off. Kurt didn't even twitch when Puck threw it to the side. He was far, far too enraptured in this boy's gaze to worry about hanging the jacket up. The fedora came next, then Puck took his time to untie Kurt's tie. There was something about the gentle strength of Puck's hands; Kurt suddenly wanted them all over his body. "Noah," he said, whimpering helplessly. He didn't know what was going on, and somehow he knew this shouldn't be happening. Even in his dreams, Puck wouldn't be seducing him.
It was too much to hope for.
Puck ran his fingers up the silk of Kurt's shirt, causing Kurt to shiver hard. "Shh," he murmured. "Let me take care of you." Kurt shivered again when Puck licked his lips, watching Kurt's neck as he unbuttoned the top buttons of Kurt's shirt. He wasn't even watching Kurt's face, and the stray thought of He really is staying in character! made its way through Kurt's head right before flying right back out. Puck was lowering his head. Puck was lowering his head and Kurt felt like he was going to spontaneously combust.
Now, Kurt had never done anything with anyone in the real world. Of course, he had had wet dreams over the last couple of years, but he had never had anything this real. He had no idea that his neck would be so sensitive, but it was. He couldn't help but buck against Puck when that mouth finally touched the skin of his neck. Puck wrapped his arms around Kurt, and another momentary thought entered and left his head: He's holding me tighter than I thought he ever would. Kurt didn't mind though, it only served to push him tightly against Puck. Puck's thigh made its way between Kurt's, and Kurt could only groan as he started rocking down against the muscular leg. He gripped Puck's shoulders, twisting his fingers in the gorgeous fabric that made up his friend's costume.
There was a sharp bite of pain at Kurt's neck, but it bordered on pleasure. Instead of making Kurt push away, he only wrapped tighter around Puck, rocking harder against that thigh, gripping that fabric tighter than he was before. His head was swimming with desire, he was moaning (and probably loud enough that the rest of the party could hear it over the thump, thump, thump of the bass reverberating through the walls), and he had never been as turned on as he was at that moment with Puck sucking on his neck.
The mohawked head pulled back with a smile, and it took Kurt a long, drowsy moment to focus. He frowned slightly. "Puck?" he asked, trying to shake the fuzzy feeling out of his head. He had heard once that someone could be dizzy with desire, but he had no idea it felt like this. Puck smiled, fangs longer than they were before, mouth bright red and bloody. Kurt raised his hand, brushing against his neck.
A shock bolted through him when his fingers slicked across skin, coming away coated in blood. "Puck, I don't understa-" There was a small voice, somewhere in the back of his head, that said Run, Kurt Hummel, fucking run!, but Kurt couldn't pull away if he wanted to. He was locked in Puck's embrace. He wasn't sure he was strong enough to pull away if he even wanted to. For some reason, he wasn’t surprised that he didn’t want to.
"You're a vampire," Kurt said, realization dawning on him. There was panic, obviously; Kurt didn't want to die. It swept through him and fought with the overwhelming desire that still flooded his veins. Surprisingly, he grew harder.
"I am," Puck said, licking his lips slowly. Kurt focused on that tongue, on the way he cleaned away the bright red blood - the bright red blood that had been inside of him only moments before. He couldn't look away, horrified and aroused. "I am a vampire, and I'm making you mine."
"Yours?" Kurt asked, looking up. He didn't understand.
Puck leaned down, and Kurt could smell the coppery scent of his blood on Puck's words. "Forever, Kurt. You are mine forever." He dropped his head, his teeth sinking into Kurt's neck at the exact moment Puck's hand tightened against Kurt's back, pulling Kurt tight against his chest.
Kurt cried out, eyes closing as heat coated him.
When Kurt jerked awake, he was panting, staring at the dark ceiling of his bedroom. He reached out, feeling the side of the bed, looking for Puck. It took him a moment to realize that he was, in fact, in his bed. He wasn't in a random Victorian bedroom, trapped in Puck's arms. He was in his own bed, safe and alive - he checked his neck and felt no blood, no puncture wounds, nothing that would indicate he had been bitten by a creature of the night. Kurt breathed a heavy sigh of relief, even as he looked down and realized that his dream had caused him to have an orgasm.
"Damn," he breathed, not wanting to get up to clean it up. Oddly, what he really wanted to do was go back to sleep and see how the dream would finish.
With a heavy sigh, and even heavier limbs, he crawled out of bed to take care of business.
The back of his neck prickled though, and Kurt turned around, peering into the darkness of his bedroom. There was no one there, and Kurt knew there wasn't. That didn't mean there wasn't some quiet, wishful part of him that wanted that vampire version of his friend to come out of the shadows.
"Damn it," Kurt murmured again. He was in so, so much trouble now.
.end.
authors note: Puck's costume looked much like Tom Cruise's in this picture. Guh, okay.
