Untitled Badfic [BADFIC]
Title: Untitled Badfic
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 600
Summary: Kurt pines for Blaine, cries, and then they have sex.
Notes: Written for the DFCR this summer, so they could read badfic during the telecast without hurting the feelings of anyone who may have written something they'd taken seriously. Way, way, way too much fun to write.
The petite countertenor sat in the corner, glasz eyes misted over with tears. It had been one hundred and twenty-four days since he’d first met the strapping lead soloist of the Warblers, and the younger boy’s heart had broken at least three times each one of those days with the knowledge that the handsome Pinoy boy would never return his affections.
Why would he? Kurt was just a frail wisp of boy. He was pretty, but he was hardly pretty enough to turn the hazel-eyed junior Warbler’s head. Everyone at Dalton was in love with the dazzling lead singer. Even the straight boys loved him, because he was just so supermegafoxyawesomehot. He towered over Kurt, and it made the porcelain-skinned singer weep with joy whenever he deigned to look in the countertenor’s direction.
But the younger boy’s love was unreturned, and his heart hung heavy with the knowledge that he’d never be good enough for the sexy boy with the slicked-back hair. After all, it wasn’t gel that kept the older boy’s hair in place. It was pure sex appeal, oozing through his scalp.
The young brunette’s heart was so full of love, but he never believed he would be so blessed as to have the chance to share it with the dashing white knight who’d come to save him. So he cried. He cried all the time, and it was one day, when he was crying over his dead bird (or at least, that’s what he told everyone - the truth was that he was crying over his unrequited love for the beautiful blazer-clad boy), when the object of his affections stopped eating his Red Vine mid-bite and thought to himself, “I MUST MAKE THIS BOY MY OWN!”
So the vaguely Eurasian-looking boy hatched a devious plot to sing a special song with the innocent young virginal countertenor with the glasz eyes during their big choir competition, because everyone knew that was where such things were meant to happen. It was halfway through their carefully arranged and super romantic duet of Katy Perry’s “Peacock” that the sexy studmuffin gave in to the fire burning in his loins and the throbbing of his disco stick and planted a big, sexy kiss on the younger boy’s tiny, blushing face.
Young Mister Hummel beamed with pleasure, then gave in to the painful ache of his swollen member and flung himself on the amazing vocalist before him. In seconds, Kurt had his mouth around Blaine’s beefy man-sausage, and he slurped on it delightedly. It tasted so good. It was better than coconut water, guava juice, and Diet Coke, even! When the super experienced and obviously taller older boy shot his sticky, wet, load of man-syrup (which tasted even better - like Minute Maid apple juice!) into the younger boy’s mouth, he did it with a cry of “totally awesome!” that made the blue-eyed beauty so excited that he instantly came in his pants. “Oh my Gaga!” he cried, upon realizing that he had just given his first blowjob on stage at Nationals, but his embarrassment soon turned to pride when everyone in the auditorium rose to their feet and gave him a standing ovation because it had been the best blowjob any of them had ever seen.
His lover took him by the hand and they ran, as if in slow-motion, through the streets of New York City until they found a courthouse and got married. They celebrated by having lots and lots of sexy sex with each other (and some of the other Warblers, because the former McKinley student believed in sharing) and they lived happily and sexily ever after.
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Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 600
Summary: Kurt pines for Blaine, cries, and then they have sex.
Notes: Written for the DFCR this summer, so they could read badfic during the telecast without hurting the feelings of anyone who may have written something they'd taken seriously. Way, way, way too much fun to write.
The petite countertenor sat in the corner, glasz eyes misted over with tears. It had been one hundred and twenty-four days since he’d first met the strapping lead soloist of the Warblers, and the younger boy’s heart had broken at least three times each one of those days with the knowledge that the handsome Pinoy boy would never return his affections.
Why would he? Kurt was just a frail wisp of boy. He was pretty, but he was hardly pretty enough to turn the hazel-eyed junior Warbler’s head. Everyone at Dalton was in love with the dazzling lead singer. Even the straight boys loved him, because he was just so supermegafoxyawesomehot. He towered over Kurt, and it made the porcelain-skinned singer weep with joy whenever he deigned to look in the countertenor’s direction.
But the younger boy’s love was unreturned, and his heart hung heavy with the knowledge that he’d never be good enough for the sexy boy with the slicked-back hair. After all, it wasn’t gel that kept the older boy’s hair in place. It was pure sex appeal, oozing through his scalp.
The young brunette’s heart was so full of love, but he never believed he would be so blessed as to have the chance to share it with the dashing white knight who’d come to save him. So he cried. He cried all the time, and it was one day, when he was crying over his dead bird (or at least, that’s what he told everyone - the truth was that he was crying over his unrequited love for the beautiful blazer-clad boy), when the object of his affections stopped eating his Red Vine mid-bite and thought to himself, “I MUST MAKE THIS BOY MY OWN!”
So the vaguely Eurasian-looking boy hatched a devious plot to sing a special song with the innocent young virginal countertenor with the glasz eyes during their big choir competition, because everyone knew that was where such things were meant to happen. It was halfway through their carefully arranged and super romantic duet of Katy Perry’s “Peacock” that the sexy studmuffin gave in to the fire burning in his loins and the throbbing of his disco stick and planted a big, sexy kiss on the younger boy’s tiny, blushing face.
Young Mister Hummel beamed with pleasure, then gave in to the painful ache of his swollen member and flung himself on the amazing vocalist before him. In seconds, Kurt had his mouth around Blaine’s beefy man-sausage, and he slurped on it delightedly. It tasted so good. It was better than coconut water, guava juice, and Diet Coke, even! When the super experienced and obviously taller older boy shot his sticky, wet, load of man-syrup (which tasted even better - like Minute Maid apple juice!) into the younger boy’s mouth, he did it with a cry of “totally awesome!” that made the blue-eyed beauty so excited that he instantly came in his pants. “Oh my Gaga!” he cried, upon realizing that he had just given his first blowjob on stage at Nationals, but his embarrassment soon turned to pride when everyone in the auditorium rose to their feet and gave him a standing ovation because it had been the best blowjob any of them had ever seen.
His lover took him by the hand and they ran, as if in slow-motion, through the streets of New York City until they found a courthouse and got married. They celebrated by having lots and lots of sexy sex with each other (and some of the other Warblers, because the former McKinley student believed in sharing) and they lived happily and sexily ever after.
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