The Third Prompt Meme Post

[tamzinrose]

Welcome to the Glee Angst Meme again! You know how these things work. You can come here and prompt your most angsty prompts, and write stories filling those angsty prompts to let our characters suffer.

If a thread concerns you, please contact the moderators first before commenting as this helps to keep the self-moderation and potentiality of wank

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C

[anonymous]

The lights weren’t on when Kurt pulled into their driveway. He parked the car almost hastily and stepped out of the car, flinching when he realized how wet the back of his pants felt. He could only hope it couldn’t be seen - his jacket was long, sure, but the second he’d shuck it all bets would be off.

Kurt climbed to the front door and rang the bell, once, twice, thrice, not stopping until he heard footsteps nearing. He didn’t care he had most likely waken everyone up. He didn’t care he was a mess at the moment. He didn’t care his dad was likely to go and kill someone the very moment they met.

It was his dad who came to the door, dressed in his nightclothes. Carole stood in the corridor behind him, looking sleepy and tired.

“Who the--” Burt began, stopping when he realized he was talking to his own son. “Kurt? What’re you doing here?”

Kurt let out a wail and in a split second Burt had his arms around the boy, warm and strong and safe; Kurt knew that his father could smell what he’d been doing just a few hours ago (he could, still, and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get Blaine off him again) but he didn’t care.

“Shit - Carole, we need to go to the hospital - shit, shit, how badly--”
“No”, Kurt croaked, shaking his head. “No. Dad. I’m not hurt. At all.”
“But--”
“No.” The word was more pressing this time. “Dad, please. I - I wanted it. I asked him to. I - I thought he loved me.”

Another series of loud cries raked Kurt’s body. Carole gasped in the background, letting a quiet ‘oh God’ out and he was sure that the heavy set of footsteps belonged to Finn. Kurt froze and tried to make himself invisible behind Burt’s frame.

“I don’t want him to see me”, Kurt whispered, pressing his forehead into Burt’s neck. “Daddy, please.”
“…are you absolutely sure you’re not hurt?”

Kurt nodded.

“Right. Finn, go back to sleep.”
“Huh? Mom? Burt? What’s going on? Who else is there?”
“It’s just Kurt, sweetie”, Carole answered. Kurt could hear her nightdress swish as she moved. “Come on, Finn, let’s go upstairs. Those two need some time alone.”
“But--”
“Kurt’s… okay. Go on.”
“But, mom--”
“Finn.”

The taller of the two teens didn’t resist further though Kurt would have bet his Vogues on Finn’s expression being all wide-eyed confusion, sleepy and curious, maybe slightly scared, even. He could picture it clearly in his mind.

“Daddy, downstairs?” Kurt asked, still not letting go of Burt’s shirt. “Please.”
“Sure. Come on - I’m not gonna let go of you, okay?”

Kurt nodded and moved half a step away, just enough for him to be able to move. His side brushed against Burt every time he stepped with his left foot. Once in Kurt’s room, they both stilled.

“Do you, uh, wanna”, Burt started awkwardly, doing some sort of hand signal at the direction of the bathroom. Suddenly he stopped. “Wait - do I need to call the cops? Please, Kurt, tell me truth. Please.”
“No, daddy, no.” Kurt’s face was fire-engine red. “I - I wanted it. I didn’t - he didn’t rape me or anything. He just… wasn’t who I thought it was. Can, can I - don’t leave, please?”

Burt nodded and Kurt turned around, walking stiffly into his bathroom. Once there he threw his clothes on the floor, not caring about them at this point - he’d have to burn them, either way, to get rid of the mere memories he would forever associate with them. His pants were soiled; the mix of semen and lube had seeped trough both layers of fabric, now a huge, wet spot on his bum. Kurt sniffled and pushed them under the jacket, unable to look at them.