Little Prince 3/4+1
Pairings: Burt/Kurt (non-romantic), Kurt/Blaine
Warnings: Incest, daddy kink, innocent kink, slavery (of sorts), enemas, minor character death.
Summary: Burt’s son, sequestered from the real world, comes of age waiting for the day his prince will come to take him away and they will live happily ever after. Ever protective, Burt makes sure Kurt is literally squeaky clean inside and out, keeps him wrapped in a world where fairy tales are the norm and Kurt’s only job is to be the same unaffected little boy that his mother left behind, that is, until a ‘king’ answers one of Burt’s advertisements. Written for this GKM prompt.
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A/N - Thanks for all the support everyone!
***
“Hold on, bud. Don’t get into your PJs just yet. We need to do a colonic tonight and then I want to give you a haircut.” Kurt wraps the large towel around his chest and listens closely.
“Okay, daddy. Can I carry something?” Burt hands over the skinny dented tube of KY and a huge old yellow towel.
“Go get ready please.” Kurt nods seriously, does a mock salute and tucks the towel under his arm, then marches off down the hall playfully. Burt shakes his head, finds the equipment he needs and runs the water until it’s warm again. He dithers over using the little packet of special liquid soap from the pharmacist or going with their usual baking soda concoction, but Burt decides to go with the soap after all. The boy needs to clean out as much as possible before he goes home with Blaine on Friday.
Grabbing his supplies, Burt heads for his son’s bedroom and is happy to find that Kurt’s already laid out the towel across his bed and is on his knees, head resting on his pillow, waiting patiently. Kurt’s swollen pink prick hangs between his legs, still somewhat hard from being washed in the bath. Burt knows that it’ll only get harder as he lubes his son up for the tubing but will fade out once he’s full of solution. It always does.
There’s no denying that meeting Blaine has had an effect on Kurt. Washing his son’s penis every night has become a bit of a battle. To stop, that is. With Kurt’s constant whining and complaining that he’s not clean enough in the bath, Burt’s taken to doubling the amount of time he spends wiping down the boy’s shaft and balls. He always makes sure to stop before Kurt can come though, he doesn’t want to pollute the bathwater anymore than it already is by that point.
Picking up the lube, Burt slicks up the two fingers he’d used earlier and rests his free hand on Kurt’s hip. “Ready, Kurt?”
“Yeah.”
A finger slides into Kurt’s asshole easily and coils in as far as possible before pulling out and plunging back in with its counterpart. The duo lubricate the passage as well as they can so Kurt can take the tubing easily. Burt pulls out and wipes them off on the old towel. He whistles as he sets up the IV pole, clips off the tubing, connects it to the bag and hangs the baggie up. The last thing Burt does is put his wife’s old Duran Duran record onto Kurt’s turntable, sets the needle down, satisfied as the crackle of the first song starts.
“Here we go, kiddo.” Kurt hums and pushes his butt back against Burt’s hand that’s spreading his cheeks, exposing his hole. Burt feeds the tubing into his son slowly, letting Kurt adjust, and the twists it in four inches deep. He unclips and lets the solution drain into Kurt, checking the flow. There’s a lot of fluid to take this time but Kurt only puts up a fuss if it cramps. The boppy beat of this record both serves to distract his son and to keep track of the flow rate.
“Remember, slow breaths, Kurt.” He does another once over to make sure everything’s set and moves to ruffle his son’s hair. “Don’t go anywhere,” he jokes as Kurt rolls his eyes. “I’m just gonna get set up so we can chop this mop. I’ll be back in a minute but yell if you need me, alright?”
“Uh huh.” As Burt walks back to the bathroom to find his scissors, he hears Kurt singing along. It’s always nice to hear his wife’s favorite song again. He really will miss Kurt when he’s gone.
***
“Look at that full little tummy,” Burt coos as he rubs counter-clockwise over Kurt’s swollen belly. His boy wriggles at the touch so Burt shifts away, flips the LP over so side two can play and goes back to remove the tube from the boy. “C’mon, Kurt. Time to hop up.”
“Daddy?” Kurt asks uncertainly. “I don’t think this is a good idea. I’m really full.”
“You’ll be fine.” Burt says dismissively. “We’ve done it a hundred times, Kurt, and there’s only that one time you had an accident and that was daddy’s fault for making you wait so long. Let’s go.” Kurt grumbles as he stands up gingerly, holding onto Burt’s hand. His son totters down the hall with Burt’s arm around him protectively, ready to sweep him up and rush him to the bathroom if needed.
When they get there, Kurt carefully climbs up onto the high stool with a folded towel to sit on that’s been placed in front of the mirror. He waits for Burt to wrap a toweling cape around his shoulders and start combing his hair down.
“We need to get you all tidied up for your birthday. Can’t have you looking like a hippy when Blaine gets here, can we?” Kurt huffs and cracks a smile.
“I’m not a hippy,” Kurt says with a pout. Burt grins and starts to snip away, just taking the very ends off in front. He knows how much Kurt likes his hair. If there’s anything that will cause a fight, it’s taking too much length off.
“What kind of birthday cake should we ask Mrs Hudson to make this year?” Burt asks. His elderly neighbor, Carole, the wife of the farmer next door, has been making Kurt’s birthday cakes for as long as he can remember. She always puts extra special touches to anything that Kurt requests. She still has a soft spot for her former charge and she loves fairy tales almost as much as his son does. Kurt clicks his tongue as he thinks, his eyes rolling up towards the ceiling.
“Something green!” he decides. Burt quirks an eyebrow and blinks.
“Um…it this because of the Shrek marathon we had on Sunday?” Kurt laughs and pulls back from Burt’s scissors.
“Maybe,” he says in a sing song lilt. Burt considers it for a moment as he goes back to trimming Kurt’s hair.
“So are you Shrek and Blaine is Fiona? Or is it the other way around?”
“Maybe Blaine is Donkey,” Kurt suggests. “After all he and Shrek are best friends and that’s what Blaine and I are going to be too!”
“Okay. Except Blaine, I mean Donkey, doesn’t marry Shrek. Fiona does.”
“Well in my version, he does.” Kurt nods definitively. “He can be King Donkey and I’ll be Prince Shrek and we’ll live in a castle and rule over Far Far Away.”
“Are you sure he’s not Lord Farquaad?” Burt sniggers. “They’re probably about the same size.”
“Daddy!” Kurt chides. “Don’t be mean! He’s perfectly handsome and he’s just the right size. And he’s a whole lot bigger that Lord Farquaad, that’s for sure.” They catch each other’s eye and giggle together for completely different reasons.
“Clipper time,” Burt says as he plugs in the hair clippers. “Lean forward please.” The buzz of the machine is loud and interrupts their conversation but after a few sweeps around the back and sides, Burt turns them off and puts them aside. He brushes off the tiny bits of hair from Kurt’s neck with the corner of the towel and helps him over to the toilet.
Leaving Kurt to empty everything he’s been holding in, Burt goes and tidies up in the bedroom.
***
“Daddy, once I go with Blaine, will I ever see you again?” Kurt asks in a small voice as his father kisses him on the forehead.
“What? Of course you will. Blaine and I talked about it and I’ll come and visit you after the first week, to make sure you’ve settled in. Then, later, I’ll come over every few weeks to catch up, okay?”
“Mm hm,” Kurt squeaks out. “I think I’m gonna miss you a lot, daddy.”
“Shhh. It’ll be okay. You’ll see. Blaine likes you a lot and I know you like him too. Don’t think I didn’t notice you two holding hands. You won’t even miss having your old man around. Blaine will take very good care of you and you’ll be learning lots of new things.” Kurt sits up and hugs his father tight as he starts to cry. “Aw, Kurt. Don’t cry. You’ll still be daddy’s little boy. My little prince. Nothing’s gonna change that. Shhh, lie down, bud.” Kurt snuggles back into his cocoon of blankets and wipes his damp cheek on his pajama sleeve. “Don’t be sad, Kurt. Think about all the things that you’ll get to share with Blaine. You’ll learn his favorite movies and you’ll show him yours, all cuddled up together. He said he’d teach you how to play the piano and you’re going to take some lessons in French too, or Latin, or even Japanese if you wanted. No doubt he’ll have different ways of doing things but Blaine will always make sure you’re looked after. I think you’ll be very happy together, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Kurt says softly as he rolls onto his side. He watches his father go, turning off the light and pulling the door almost shut.
By the soft glow of his nightlight, Kurt can make out the vase full of red roses on his dresser. Smiling, he thinks about daddy’s words and yes, he’s right, they will be happy together. Kurt’s never had butterflies in his tummy like he has when he thinks about Blaine. He shuts his eyes and thinks about Blaine holding his hand again, like he did on Friday. The warmth of his skin against Kurt’s makes the butterflies in his belly swoop and his puppy tingle and twitch.
Thinking about what Blaine had said, Kurt’s hand slips down and cups his puppy over his pants, feeling it grow big. He pets it, like he did when daddy took the photos. Touch your puppy for daddy. Kurt’s grip tightens as he hears daddy’s voice in his head and his hips move against his hand. Maybe like this. Kurt pushes his pajama pants down and pets it some more. Touch it for daddy. Play with puppy. His father’s voice echoes in his head and then is replaced by Blaine’s. You make my puppy feel so good, Kurt. I get excited when I think of you. Touch it some more. Make it feel better. Make puppy drool. Touch puppy for me. Touch puppy for daddy. Kurt’s hips jerk upwards and his hand slips off the end of his puppy clumsily. It feels wet though and when Kurt opens his slack hand, he can see drool shining on his palm. He did it!
Rolling over, Kurt digs under his mattress and pulls out Blaine's photos. In the dim light, he can just make out the King and he studies how Blaine is gripping his puppy. Maybe he should try like that too, he decides.
Wrapping his hand around puppy, Kurt moves his body back and forth trying to figure out how to make puppy feel really good. As his movements misfire, he ends up moving his hand instead and a spreading sensation of warmth floods over him. “Uh,” he grunts and does it again as the jumble of their voices in his head whisper over the top of each other. Keep touching it. Keep touching puppy. Show daddy. Blaine likes you a lot. He’s gonna hug and kiss you. Maybe he’ll show you how to play with puppy too. It feels amazing, Kurt. That’s how you make me feel. Puppy’s so big. Just for you. Touch it. Touch it for daddy. It feels better, huh? Make puppy drool. Play with puppy. Show daddy. Show me. Show- “Uh!” Kurt stretches out as his tummy somersaults and then his puppy spits all over his hand.
Kurt lies there, breathing heavy with shock as he lets go of his puppy and brings his hand up to inspect it. His fingers are covered in a cloudy sticky mess that looks familiar. Kurt sniffs at it and realizes that it’s what has been splattered inside his set of Avengers underwear some mornings for the past year or so. He wonders why daddy has never said anything. Eventually he’d just shown Kurt how to load up the washer, get the cycle started and told him that Thor’s face would be clean in no time. He sniffs at the goo again and wrinkles his nose. It doesn’t smell very nice. Instead, he sticks his tongue out and waggles it against the crook of his thumb to see if it tastes any better. Raising his eyebrows in surprise, he licks again. It’s not bad and it’s a whole lot better than wiping it on the sheets, so Kurt sucks each finger and licks over his hand until the mess is completely cleaned up. Finally satisfied, he wriggles his pants back up and snuggles down, falling straight to sleep.
***
“And this is my lawyer, Mr Harris,” Blaine introduces Burt and lets them shake hands before sitting back down at the small round table in his apartment at Dalton.
“Nice to meet you,” Burt says gruffly as he sits and pulls out the bound stack of paperwork. “I had Doug go over everything again and write in the new clauses for visitation like we talked about.”
“And the agreement for Kurt to continue his education at Dalton?” Blaine asks even as Burt nods.
“And the clause for Kurt not to leave the property unattended too,” Burt adds. “Don’t worry, kid. I’ve got it under control.” He winks at Blaine who looks like he’s about ready to hyperventilate. “Why don’t you give me the five cent tour while your lawyer looks this over?” Burt slides the hefty contract over to Mr Harris and waits for Blaine to stand and show him around. They meet at one of the large picture windows that overlook the sports fields to the rear of the school grounds.
“As you can see, Burt, Kurt will have a great view during the day and if he’s interested, we’ll watch a game or two from the sidelines. After the last of the teams are finished playing or practicing, we’ll have the run of the place.”
“Lucky it’s not a boarding school then, huh?” Burt says cheekily.
“Oh, it used to be, back when I was a student but the rising cost of living and the extra room required for new students and classrooms meant that the extensions and fees would have been exorbitant.” Burt snorts derisively.
“Kid, I checked the fee schedule online. It’s already exorbitant.”
“Uh, yes well. It’s the price for a certain level of education and-” Burt interrupts and waves him off.
“So you have you own bathroom and everything?” Burt asks as he turns and takes in the remarkably open plan space. He follows Blaine as the teacher takes him through each living space. The bathroom, a wetroom, has both a large tub and a separate spacious shower all tiled in marble. The bedroom has a free floating dividing wall between it and the lounge, which allows the bank of windows along the back to flood the apartment with light. The lounge, dining and kitchen area are all open to one another and are tastefully decorated with a modern flair, even if there are toy robots lined up on a few shelves. “Did you do this yourself?” Burt asks, his hand circling in the air.
“Yes,” Blaine starts. “Actually, I had it completely gutted aside from the old woodwork, which I had restored. It used to be an old storage room and was a complete mess. When the decision was made that I’d come back in state after graduation to teach, my father opened his check-book and Dalton fell over themselves to bring me on board. I’m actually the only member of the faculty to live onsite, aside from the grounds man, who lives in a cottage on the far edge of the property. It seemed the right thing to do considering that one day, I’ll be running the place and now that Kurt will be by my side, I don’t want to be anywhere else.” Burt claps the teacher on the back.
“I’m glad my boy’s going to someone who’s got their head screwed on.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with me staying on Thursday night? I mean, I’ve already arranged for someone to cover my morning classes on Friday but I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
“It doesn’t make sense for you to drive home and then drive back again in the morning. Stay,” Burt says. “You got everything sorted for Friday?” Blaine nods.
“Yes, it’s all set.” Burt claps him on the back again and walks him over to the table as the lawyer finishes up.
“Good. Let’s make it official then.” He accepts the pen that Mr Harris is holding out and initials each alteration they’d discussed earlier, then signs the back page of all copies of the contract and hands the pen over to Blaine who follows suit. The teacher sets the pen down carefully and drops into the chair heavily, his palms flat on the table.
“I’m getting married!” Blaine says in shock. Burt grins as he packs his copy of the paperwork away.
“You won’t regret it, kid,” he says as he shakes Blaine’s hand once more.
“Oh! Mr Harris has your check,” Blaine reminds him. Burt shakes the lawyer’s hand as it’s handed over and grins as he takes in the figure. One hundred thousand dollars up front and a guarantee of business for the life of the tire shop or the contract, which ever expires first, now that’s a good deal.
“It’ll be the best money you’ve ever spent, kid.”
***
“Shouldn’t puppy get some too?” Kurt asks as his father swipes the sugar scrub up and down each of his thighs.
“Ouch. I think that would hurt, Kurt.” Burt scoops out another handful of the sugar, oil and vanilla mixture they’d made and spreads it over his son’s stomach, avoiding the hard dick that keeps twitching in front of his face.
“But puppy’s lonely and jealous because everything else is being scrubbed except him.” Kurt whines as he stands in the now empty bath. Burt had cleaned puppy and everything else, as well as shaved Kurt’s chest and legs tonight instead of sticking with their normal routine, in preparation for his birthday tomorrow. He’d found the sugar scrub recipe online and decided that they’d give it a go. Sometimes it was an oatmeal face mask or a beer shampoo that they experimented with to see what actually worked. Certainly the beer one had been a bit of a success. Kurt’s hair had never been that squeaky clean before even if he’d ponged for a day.
“We gotta do this, kiddo, then scrape it off and then we’ll run another bath, alright?”
“Okay but you gotta promise to clean puppy again otherwise he’ll be sad.” Burt rolls his eyes. The boy’s penis had barely been soft tonight. “Do you promise, daddy?” Burt sighs but agrees. Anything to stop him from whinging.
Handfuls of the scrub are rubbed into Kurt’s chest and arms until Burt tells the boy to turn around so he can start on his back and work his way down to his ankles. The granules of sugar feel strange under his fingers after so much rubbing but he keeps going, reaching Kurt’s butt quickly. He smooths the paste onto one side, then the other and rubs in rough circles, grabbing and pulling at the cheeks to make them split open and closed with every pass. He might have to check that the back door’s clean again too. Can’t have any sugar stuck around there.
After finishing off the backs of Kurt’s legs, Burt grabs one of the disposable razors and starts wicking away the mixture, leaving trails of pale pink, gleaming skin in his wake. He continues tirelessly, washing away the detritus from the razor after every stroke until he’s done.
As the plug sinks into the drain, Kurt steps out and lets Burt run a shallow bath before stepping back and sinking into the warm water.
***
“Woah!” Kurt busts out into a fit of giggles as his butt slides along the bottom of the tub and makes him lose his balance as his puppy flops about above the water line. He tries to brace himself with his arms against the side of the bath but loses it completely as he crashes into the water with an almighty splash. His father helps him to sit upright as Kurt splutters from the water up his nose.
“You okay, bud?” Kurt coughs and blinks his wet lashes.
“Yeah.” Kurt scoots himself back and forth as a test. “I feel like an eel,” he says giggling as he looks down. His puppy’s still standing tall after his dunking and he wonders if daddy will remember his promise.
“Don’t move, Kurt. Let me grab some clean cloths.” Kurt checks that his father has gone when he moves his hand to pet puppy for the first time since he got undressed this evening. Ever since he’d made puppy spit that first time a couple of days ago, he’s been touching it a lot, making it grow and get hard. He doesn’t always get the same results but he’s certainly mastered making a mess with drool until he gets interrupted or his hand gets tired. At his daddy’s footfall, Kurt pulls his hand away and splashes the water idly.
“Okay, the green one is for your body and the blue one is for puppy,” his daddy says as the green washcloth is dropped into the tub.
***
As Burt finishes washing down Kurt’s legs with the soapy cloth, he lathers up the blue one and asks his son to roll over so he can clean up puppy again.
“But daddy, you can do it like this,” Kurt says as he points to his penis, sticking out of the bathwater like a fleshy periscope. Burt clears his throat and grumbles.
“I don’t know, Kurt,” he says still stroking the bar of mild soap with the cloth.
“Please daddy?” Kurt begs. “Just try it? If it doesn’t work, we can go back to your way,” the boy bargains. Burt huffs and cracks his neck.
“Fine. No wiggling.” Burt bends forward as Kurt leans back against the tub. Taking the stiff dick in hand, he jacks it slowly and twists his wrist a little to wash all around the shaft. As Kurt sighs heavily, Burt moves to wash the head once more, rubbing it between his cloth covered fingertips so the foamy soap gets everywhere. Kurt grunts and shifts his hips. “I said no wiggling,” Burt chides. As the water stills, he ducks the cloth beneath the surface to clear the suds and lathers it back up again. He sweeps it up his son’s ball sack and rolls each one until Kurt grunts again. Once more, he works the soap in the cloth and covers the boy’s penis with it, stroking around the base and sliding all the way to the tip.
“Daddy,” Kurt pants out as his hips jolt. Burt harrumphs and pulls his hand away.
“You’re moving too much,” he complains. “Turn over. Hands and knees, Kurt.” His son scrambles to get into position, shoves his ass up and out eagerly. “I’m just gonna check I didn’t get in sugar in here,” Burt says as his soapy finger slides into Kurt’s ass. He can feel the boy clench down on him immediately, stopping him in his tracks for fear of hurting him. “C’mon, Kurt,” he whines but nothing changes. Burt removes his finger and soaps up the cloth again as well as his fingers. As the blue cloth wraps around Kurt’s hanging dick and starts stroking, Burt’s finger slips all the way inside easily. “Does that feel okay?” He needs to know if it’s gritty from sugar at all.
“Um…” Kurt says shakily. “Oh, uh.” Burt pushes another finger inside, to be sure there’s nothing that will cause discomfit later. He keeps swishing the washcloth up and down Kurt’s shaft as his fingers work, probing and stroking along his son's inner walls looking for gritty sugar. He’s barely paying attention to Kurt’s gently thrusting into his cloth covered fist as he concentrates on the search inside.
“Nearly there.”
“D-daddy,” Kurt whimpers and Burt thinks he can feel something as he slides his fingers around inside his son but Kurt’s getting tighter around him. Realizing that the cloth is completely water logged, Burt drops it and grabs the soap to slick his fist with. He quickly goes back to soaping up Kurt’s dick with just his hand and less gentle strokes as he drags his fingers out. As they pop free and have nothing trapped between them, Burt thrusts them back in. “Uhhhh,” Kurt wails as his hips buck forward and come splashes into the bathwater. Burt freezes. His fingers are stuck inside and his other fist is gooey. Swiftly both hands pull away and grab the blue cloth. Burt takes a quick swipe at Kurt’s asshole with it and yanks the plug out, letting the bath drain.
“Okay, we’re done here.” Burt’s tone leaves no room for argument. “C’mon. Up.” He wraps his son in a towel and rubs him down with no finesse. Kurt’s limbs are uncooperative and wobbly so Burt wraps the towel around him and lifts his son from the tub, grabs his PJs and head for Kurt’s bedroom. Soon Kurt is dressed and sleepy, pulling the bedspread up to his chin.
“Daddy?” he asks quietly in between yawns. “Puppy really liked that. Can we do it again tomorrow?”
Burt flicks the light off without answering and stalks away, mad at his overstep in the bath.
***
A/N - Next up is Kurt’s birthday, Blaine’s surprise and a change in scenery.
Part 4>>
Warnings: Incest, daddy kink, innocent kink, slavery (of sorts), enemas, minor character death.
Summary: Burt’s son, sequestered from the real world, comes of age waiting for the day his prince will come to take him away and they will live happily ever after. Ever protective, Burt makes sure Kurt is literally squeaky clean inside and out, keeps him wrapped in a world where fairy tales are the norm and Kurt’s only job is to be the same unaffected little boy that his mother left behind, that is, until a ‘king’ answers one of Burt’s advertisements. Written for this GKM prompt.
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A/N - Thanks for all the support everyone!
***
“Hold on, bud. Don’t get into your PJs just yet. We need to do a colonic tonight and then I want to give you a haircut.” Kurt wraps the large towel around his chest and listens closely.
“Okay, daddy. Can I carry something?” Burt hands over the skinny dented tube of KY and a huge old yellow towel.
“Go get ready please.” Kurt nods seriously, does a mock salute and tucks the towel under his arm, then marches off down the hall playfully. Burt shakes his head, finds the equipment he needs and runs the water until it’s warm again. He dithers over using the little packet of special liquid soap from the pharmacist or going with their usual baking soda concoction, but Burt decides to go with the soap after all. The boy needs to clean out as much as possible before he goes home with Blaine on Friday.
Grabbing his supplies, Burt heads for his son’s bedroom and is happy to find that Kurt’s already laid out the towel across his bed and is on his knees, head resting on his pillow, waiting patiently. Kurt’s swollen pink prick hangs between his legs, still somewhat hard from being washed in the bath. Burt knows that it’ll only get harder as he lubes his son up for the tubing but will fade out once he’s full of solution. It always does.
There’s no denying that meeting Blaine has had an effect on Kurt. Washing his son’s penis every night has become a bit of a battle. To stop, that is. With Kurt’s constant whining and complaining that he’s not clean enough in the bath, Burt’s taken to doubling the amount of time he spends wiping down the boy’s shaft and balls. He always makes sure to stop before Kurt can come though, he doesn’t want to pollute the bathwater anymore than it already is by that point.
Picking up the lube, Burt slicks up the two fingers he’d used earlier and rests his free hand on Kurt’s hip. “Ready, Kurt?”
“Yeah.”
A finger slides into Kurt’s asshole easily and coils in as far as possible before pulling out and plunging back in with its counterpart. The duo lubricate the passage as well as they can so Kurt can take the tubing easily. Burt pulls out and wipes them off on the old towel. He whistles as he sets up the IV pole, clips off the tubing, connects it to the bag and hangs the baggie up. The last thing Burt does is put his wife’s old Duran Duran record onto Kurt’s turntable, sets the needle down, satisfied as the crackle of the first song starts.
“Here we go, kiddo.” Kurt hums and pushes his butt back against Burt’s hand that’s spreading his cheeks, exposing his hole. Burt feeds the tubing into his son slowly, letting Kurt adjust, and the twists it in four inches deep. He unclips and lets the solution drain into Kurt, checking the flow. There’s a lot of fluid to take this time but Kurt only puts up a fuss if it cramps. The boppy beat of this record both serves to distract his son and to keep track of the flow rate.
“Remember, slow breaths, Kurt.” He does another once over to make sure everything’s set and moves to ruffle his son’s hair. “Don’t go anywhere,” he jokes as Kurt rolls his eyes. “I’m just gonna get set up so we can chop this mop. I’ll be back in a minute but yell if you need me, alright?”
“Uh huh.” As Burt walks back to the bathroom to find his scissors, he hears Kurt singing along. It’s always nice to hear his wife’s favorite song again. He really will miss Kurt when he’s gone.
***
“Look at that full little tummy,” Burt coos as he rubs counter-clockwise over Kurt’s swollen belly. His boy wriggles at the touch so Burt shifts away, flips the LP over so side two can play and goes back to remove the tube from the boy. “C’mon, Kurt. Time to hop up.”
“Daddy?” Kurt asks uncertainly. “I don’t think this is a good idea. I’m really full.”
“You’ll be fine.” Burt says dismissively. “We’ve done it a hundred times, Kurt, and there’s only that one time you had an accident and that was daddy’s fault for making you wait so long. Let’s go.” Kurt grumbles as he stands up gingerly, holding onto Burt’s hand. His son totters down the hall with Burt’s arm around him protectively, ready to sweep him up and rush him to the bathroom if needed.
When they get there, Kurt carefully climbs up onto the high stool with a folded towel to sit on that’s been placed in front of the mirror. He waits for Burt to wrap a toweling cape around his shoulders and start combing his hair down.
“We need to get you all tidied up for your birthday. Can’t have you looking like a hippy when Blaine gets here, can we?” Kurt huffs and cracks a smile.
“I’m not a hippy,” Kurt says with a pout. Burt grins and starts to snip away, just taking the very ends off in front. He knows how much Kurt likes his hair. If there’s anything that will cause a fight, it’s taking too much length off.
“What kind of birthday cake should we ask Mrs Hudson to make this year?” Burt asks. His elderly neighbor, Carole, the wife of the farmer next door, has been making Kurt’s birthday cakes for as long as he can remember. She always puts extra special touches to anything that Kurt requests. She still has a soft spot for her former charge and she loves fairy tales almost as much as his son does. Kurt clicks his tongue as he thinks, his eyes rolling up towards the ceiling.
“Something green!” he decides. Burt quirks an eyebrow and blinks.
“Um…it this because of the Shrek marathon we had on Sunday?” Kurt laughs and pulls back from Burt’s scissors.
“Maybe,” he says in a sing song lilt. Burt considers it for a moment as he goes back to trimming Kurt’s hair.
“So are you Shrek and Blaine is Fiona? Or is it the other way around?”
“Maybe Blaine is Donkey,” Kurt suggests. “After all he and Shrek are best friends and that’s what Blaine and I are going to be too!”
“Okay. Except Blaine, I mean Donkey, doesn’t marry Shrek. Fiona does.”
“Well in my version, he does.” Kurt nods definitively. “He can be King Donkey and I’ll be Prince Shrek and we’ll live in a castle and rule over Far Far Away.”
“Are you sure he’s not Lord Farquaad?” Burt sniggers. “They’re probably about the same size.”
“Daddy!” Kurt chides. “Don’t be mean! He’s perfectly handsome and he’s just the right size. And he’s a whole lot bigger that Lord Farquaad, that’s for sure.” They catch each other’s eye and giggle together for completely different reasons.
“Clipper time,” Burt says as he plugs in the hair clippers. “Lean forward please.” The buzz of the machine is loud and interrupts their conversation but after a few sweeps around the back and sides, Burt turns them off and puts them aside. He brushes off the tiny bits of hair from Kurt’s neck with the corner of the towel and helps him over to the toilet.
Leaving Kurt to empty everything he’s been holding in, Burt goes and tidies up in the bedroom.
***
“Daddy, once I go with Blaine, will I ever see you again?” Kurt asks in a small voice as his father kisses him on the forehead.
“What? Of course you will. Blaine and I talked about it and I’ll come and visit you after the first week, to make sure you’ve settled in. Then, later, I’ll come over every few weeks to catch up, okay?”
“Mm hm,” Kurt squeaks out. “I think I’m gonna miss you a lot, daddy.”
“Shhh. It’ll be okay. You’ll see. Blaine likes you a lot and I know you like him too. Don’t think I didn’t notice you two holding hands. You won’t even miss having your old man around. Blaine will take very good care of you and you’ll be learning lots of new things.” Kurt sits up and hugs his father tight as he starts to cry. “Aw, Kurt. Don’t cry. You’ll still be daddy’s little boy. My little prince. Nothing’s gonna change that. Shhh, lie down, bud.” Kurt snuggles back into his cocoon of blankets and wipes his damp cheek on his pajama sleeve. “Don’t be sad, Kurt. Think about all the things that you’ll get to share with Blaine. You’ll learn his favorite movies and you’ll show him yours, all cuddled up together. He said he’d teach you how to play the piano and you’re going to take some lessons in French too, or Latin, or even Japanese if you wanted. No doubt he’ll have different ways of doing things but Blaine will always make sure you’re looked after. I think you’ll be very happy together, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Kurt says softly as he rolls onto his side. He watches his father go, turning off the light and pulling the door almost shut.
By the soft glow of his nightlight, Kurt can make out the vase full of red roses on his dresser. Smiling, he thinks about daddy’s words and yes, he’s right, they will be happy together. Kurt’s never had butterflies in his tummy like he has when he thinks about Blaine. He shuts his eyes and thinks about Blaine holding his hand again, like he did on Friday. The warmth of his skin against Kurt’s makes the butterflies in his belly swoop and his puppy tingle and twitch.
Thinking about what Blaine had said, Kurt’s hand slips down and cups his puppy over his pants, feeling it grow big. He pets it, like he did when daddy took the photos. Touch your puppy for daddy. Kurt’s grip tightens as he hears daddy’s voice in his head and his hips move against his hand. Maybe like this. Kurt pushes his pajama pants down and pets it some more. Touch it for daddy. Play with puppy. His father’s voice echoes in his head and then is replaced by Blaine’s. You make my puppy feel so good, Kurt. I get excited when I think of you. Touch it some more. Make it feel better. Make puppy drool. Touch puppy for me. Touch puppy for daddy. Kurt’s hips jerk upwards and his hand slips off the end of his puppy clumsily. It feels wet though and when Kurt opens his slack hand, he can see drool shining on his palm. He did it!
Rolling over, Kurt digs under his mattress and pulls out Blaine's photos. In the dim light, he can just make out the King and he studies how Blaine is gripping his puppy. Maybe he should try like that too, he decides.
Wrapping his hand around puppy, Kurt moves his body back and forth trying to figure out how to make puppy feel really good. As his movements misfire, he ends up moving his hand instead and a spreading sensation of warmth floods over him. “Uh,” he grunts and does it again as the jumble of their voices in his head whisper over the top of each other. Keep touching it. Keep touching puppy. Show daddy. Blaine likes you a lot. He’s gonna hug and kiss you. Maybe he’ll show you how to play with puppy too. It feels amazing, Kurt. That’s how you make me feel. Puppy’s so big. Just for you. Touch it. Touch it for daddy. It feels better, huh? Make puppy drool. Play with puppy. Show daddy. Show me. Show- “Uh!” Kurt stretches out as his tummy somersaults and then his puppy spits all over his hand.
Kurt lies there, breathing heavy with shock as he lets go of his puppy and brings his hand up to inspect it. His fingers are covered in a cloudy sticky mess that looks familiar. Kurt sniffs at it and realizes that it’s what has been splattered inside his set of Avengers underwear some mornings for the past year or so. He wonders why daddy has never said anything. Eventually he’d just shown Kurt how to load up the washer, get the cycle started and told him that Thor’s face would be clean in no time. He sniffs at the goo again and wrinkles his nose. It doesn’t smell very nice. Instead, he sticks his tongue out and waggles it against the crook of his thumb to see if it tastes any better. Raising his eyebrows in surprise, he licks again. It’s not bad and it’s a whole lot better than wiping it on the sheets, so Kurt sucks each finger and licks over his hand until the mess is completely cleaned up. Finally satisfied, he wriggles his pants back up and snuggles down, falling straight to sleep.
***
“And this is my lawyer, Mr Harris,” Blaine introduces Burt and lets them shake hands before sitting back down at the small round table in his apartment at Dalton.
“Nice to meet you,” Burt says gruffly as he sits and pulls out the bound stack of paperwork. “I had Doug go over everything again and write in the new clauses for visitation like we talked about.”
“And the agreement for Kurt to continue his education at Dalton?” Blaine asks even as Burt nods.
“And the clause for Kurt not to leave the property unattended too,” Burt adds. “Don’t worry, kid. I’ve got it under control.” He winks at Blaine who looks like he’s about ready to hyperventilate. “Why don’t you give me the five cent tour while your lawyer looks this over?” Burt slides the hefty contract over to Mr Harris and waits for Blaine to stand and show him around. They meet at one of the large picture windows that overlook the sports fields to the rear of the school grounds.
“As you can see, Burt, Kurt will have a great view during the day and if he’s interested, we’ll watch a game or two from the sidelines. After the last of the teams are finished playing or practicing, we’ll have the run of the place.”
“Lucky it’s not a boarding school then, huh?” Burt says cheekily.
“Oh, it used to be, back when I was a student but the rising cost of living and the extra room required for new students and classrooms meant that the extensions and fees would have been exorbitant.” Burt snorts derisively.
“Kid, I checked the fee schedule online. It’s already exorbitant.”
“Uh, yes well. It’s the price for a certain level of education and-” Burt interrupts and waves him off.
“So you have you own bathroom and everything?” Burt asks as he turns and takes in the remarkably open plan space. He follows Blaine as the teacher takes him through each living space. The bathroom, a wetroom, has both a large tub and a separate spacious shower all tiled in marble. The bedroom has a free floating dividing wall between it and the lounge, which allows the bank of windows along the back to flood the apartment with light. The lounge, dining and kitchen area are all open to one another and are tastefully decorated with a modern flair, even if there are toy robots lined up on a few shelves. “Did you do this yourself?” Burt asks, his hand circling in the air.
“Yes,” Blaine starts. “Actually, I had it completely gutted aside from the old woodwork, which I had restored. It used to be an old storage room and was a complete mess. When the decision was made that I’d come back in state after graduation to teach, my father opened his check-book and Dalton fell over themselves to bring me on board. I’m actually the only member of the faculty to live onsite, aside from the grounds man, who lives in a cottage on the far edge of the property. It seemed the right thing to do considering that one day, I’ll be running the place and now that Kurt will be by my side, I don’t want to be anywhere else.” Burt claps the teacher on the back.
“I’m glad my boy’s going to someone who’s got their head screwed on.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with me staying on Thursday night? I mean, I’ve already arranged for someone to cover my morning classes on Friday but I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
“It doesn’t make sense for you to drive home and then drive back again in the morning. Stay,” Burt says. “You got everything sorted for Friday?” Blaine nods.
“Yes, it’s all set.” Burt claps him on the back again and walks him over to the table as the lawyer finishes up.
“Good. Let’s make it official then.” He accepts the pen that Mr Harris is holding out and initials each alteration they’d discussed earlier, then signs the back page of all copies of the contract and hands the pen over to Blaine who follows suit. The teacher sets the pen down carefully and drops into the chair heavily, his palms flat on the table.
“I’m getting married!” Blaine says in shock. Burt grins as he packs his copy of the paperwork away.
“You won’t regret it, kid,” he says as he shakes Blaine’s hand once more.
“Oh! Mr Harris has your check,” Blaine reminds him. Burt shakes the lawyer’s hand as it’s handed over and grins as he takes in the figure. One hundred thousand dollars up front and a guarantee of business for the life of the tire shop or the contract, which ever expires first, now that’s a good deal.
“It’ll be the best money you’ve ever spent, kid.”
***
“Shouldn’t puppy get some too?” Kurt asks as his father swipes the sugar scrub up and down each of his thighs.
“Ouch. I think that would hurt, Kurt.” Burt scoops out another handful of the sugar, oil and vanilla mixture they’d made and spreads it over his son’s stomach, avoiding the hard dick that keeps twitching in front of his face.
“But puppy’s lonely and jealous because everything else is being scrubbed except him.” Kurt whines as he stands in the now empty bath. Burt had cleaned puppy and everything else, as well as shaved Kurt’s chest and legs tonight instead of sticking with their normal routine, in preparation for his birthday tomorrow. He’d found the sugar scrub recipe online and decided that they’d give it a go. Sometimes it was an oatmeal face mask or a beer shampoo that they experimented with to see what actually worked. Certainly the beer one had been a bit of a success. Kurt’s hair had never been that squeaky clean before even if he’d ponged for a day.
“We gotta do this, kiddo, then scrape it off and then we’ll run another bath, alright?”
“Okay but you gotta promise to clean puppy again otherwise he’ll be sad.” Burt rolls his eyes. The boy’s penis had barely been soft tonight. “Do you promise, daddy?” Burt sighs but agrees. Anything to stop him from whinging.
Handfuls of the scrub are rubbed into Kurt’s chest and arms until Burt tells the boy to turn around so he can start on his back and work his way down to his ankles. The granules of sugar feel strange under his fingers after so much rubbing but he keeps going, reaching Kurt’s butt quickly. He smooths the paste onto one side, then the other and rubs in rough circles, grabbing and pulling at the cheeks to make them split open and closed with every pass. He might have to check that the back door’s clean again too. Can’t have any sugar stuck around there.
After finishing off the backs of Kurt’s legs, Burt grabs one of the disposable razors and starts wicking away the mixture, leaving trails of pale pink, gleaming skin in his wake. He continues tirelessly, washing away the detritus from the razor after every stroke until he’s done.
As the plug sinks into the drain, Kurt steps out and lets Burt run a shallow bath before stepping back and sinking into the warm water.
***
“Woah!” Kurt busts out into a fit of giggles as his butt slides along the bottom of the tub and makes him lose his balance as his puppy flops about above the water line. He tries to brace himself with his arms against the side of the bath but loses it completely as he crashes into the water with an almighty splash. His father helps him to sit upright as Kurt splutters from the water up his nose.
“You okay, bud?” Kurt coughs and blinks his wet lashes.
“Yeah.” Kurt scoots himself back and forth as a test. “I feel like an eel,” he says giggling as he looks down. His puppy’s still standing tall after his dunking and he wonders if daddy will remember his promise.
“Don’t move, Kurt. Let me grab some clean cloths.” Kurt checks that his father has gone when he moves his hand to pet puppy for the first time since he got undressed this evening. Ever since he’d made puppy spit that first time a couple of days ago, he’s been touching it a lot, making it grow and get hard. He doesn’t always get the same results but he’s certainly mastered making a mess with drool until he gets interrupted or his hand gets tired. At his daddy’s footfall, Kurt pulls his hand away and splashes the water idly.
“Okay, the green one is for your body and the blue one is for puppy,” his daddy says as the green washcloth is dropped into the tub.
***
As Burt finishes washing down Kurt’s legs with the soapy cloth, he lathers up the blue one and asks his son to roll over so he can clean up puppy again.
“But daddy, you can do it like this,” Kurt says as he points to his penis, sticking out of the bathwater like a fleshy periscope. Burt clears his throat and grumbles.
“I don’t know, Kurt,” he says still stroking the bar of mild soap with the cloth.
“Please daddy?” Kurt begs. “Just try it? If it doesn’t work, we can go back to your way,” the boy bargains. Burt huffs and cracks his neck.
“Fine. No wiggling.” Burt bends forward as Kurt leans back against the tub. Taking the stiff dick in hand, he jacks it slowly and twists his wrist a little to wash all around the shaft. As Kurt sighs heavily, Burt moves to wash the head once more, rubbing it between his cloth covered fingertips so the foamy soap gets everywhere. Kurt grunts and shifts his hips. “I said no wiggling,” Burt chides. As the water stills, he ducks the cloth beneath the surface to clear the suds and lathers it back up again. He sweeps it up his son’s ball sack and rolls each one until Kurt grunts again. Once more, he works the soap in the cloth and covers the boy’s penis with it, stroking around the base and sliding all the way to the tip.
“Daddy,” Kurt pants out as his hips jolt. Burt harrumphs and pulls his hand away.
“You’re moving too much,” he complains. “Turn over. Hands and knees, Kurt.” His son scrambles to get into position, shoves his ass up and out eagerly. “I’m just gonna check I didn’t get in sugar in here,” Burt says as his soapy finger slides into Kurt’s ass. He can feel the boy clench down on him immediately, stopping him in his tracks for fear of hurting him. “C’mon, Kurt,” he whines but nothing changes. Burt removes his finger and soaps up the cloth again as well as his fingers. As the blue cloth wraps around Kurt’s hanging dick and starts stroking, Burt’s finger slips all the way inside easily. “Does that feel okay?” He needs to know if it’s gritty from sugar at all.
“Um…” Kurt says shakily. “Oh, uh.” Burt pushes another finger inside, to be sure there’s nothing that will cause discomfit later. He keeps swishing the washcloth up and down Kurt’s shaft as his fingers work, probing and stroking along his son's inner walls looking for gritty sugar. He’s barely paying attention to Kurt’s gently thrusting into his cloth covered fist as he concentrates on the search inside.
“Nearly there.”
“D-daddy,” Kurt whimpers and Burt thinks he can feel something as he slides his fingers around inside his son but Kurt’s getting tighter around him. Realizing that the cloth is completely water logged, Burt drops it and grabs the soap to slick his fist with. He quickly goes back to soaping up Kurt’s dick with just his hand and less gentle strokes as he drags his fingers out. As they pop free and have nothing trapped between them, Burt thrusts them back in. “Uhhhh,” Kurt wails as his hips buck forward and come splashes into the bathwater. Burt freezes. His fingers are stuck inside and his other fist is gooey. Swiftly both hands pull away and grab the blue cloth. Burt takes a quick swipe at Kurt’s asshole with it and yanks the plug out, letting the bath drain.
“Okay, we’re done here.” Burt’s tone leaves no room for argument. “C’mon. Up.” He wraps his son in a towel and rubs him down with no finesse. Kurt’s limbs are uncooperative and wobbly so Burt wraps the towel around him and lifts his son from the tub, grabs his PJs and head for Kurt’s bedroom. Soon Kurt is dressed and sleepy, pulling the bedspread up to his chin.
“Daddy?” he asks quietly in between yawns. “Puppy really liked that. Can we do it again tomorrow?”
Burt flicks the light off without answering and stalks away, mad at his overstep in the bath.
***
A/N - Next up is Kurt’s birthday, Blaine’s surprise and a change in scenery.
Part 4>>