traffic lights
Pairing: Blaine/Kurt
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: none
Warnings: light d/s, masturbation, mentions of porn and kinky stuff (fisting, puppyplay, but they're really just mentions)
Wordcount: 2833
Summary: In which Kurt eventually figures out that he's kind of submissive. Like really submissive.
A/N: Look ma, I wrote stuff! ohgodpleaseneverseethis So, uh. I've had this piece in my computer for months... I stopped writing it as I realized I hated it with the passion of a thousand suns, but when I found it again some days ago I couldn't understand how that happened, lol. I have a lot of unfinished stuff hidden in a million folders (this particular fic was behind ~15 ones, wtf) and I'm kind of trying to get them finished, because I'm getting really pissed at this stupid writer's block and ugh. Anyways, I can't remember what inspired this... but here ya go! Let's pretend it didn't take me five days to write five sentences. Also, tbh, I do not like this new LJ posting thingy at all. My Internet crashes when I try to copy-paste stuff :--(
Kurt used to be a lonely teenage boy with too much time at his hands.
He used to be the boy who went home straight after school and only stepped out of the house to go back to the nightmare that is high school.
He used to be the boy who did the chores and wasted hours on homework because he had nothing better to do.
He used to be the boy who spent the rest of his time surfing the Internet.
Kurt is twelve when he’s finally bold enough to google the word ‘gay’. His dad isn’t home, and won’t be until another three hours, and he took his time figuring out how the completely delete the memory of whatever sites he might bounce upon.
It’s a good thing because after the Wikipedia article about homosexuality, the rest of the search results only show him pictures of people - of men, and some women, and both are equally eww at this point - doing the nasty.
He’s still blushing bright red when Burt comes home to find him reading about the history of the USA in the living room.
By thirteen, Kurt has learned what kinds of sites he should avoid, and what kinds of sites are okay. A year later he dares venture into ones that are not Wikipedia or some random game zones or online chat rooms. At fifteen, he clicks a link that brings him into a blog of some sorts.
It’s full of terminology that makes Kurt’s head spin both in confusion and in delight. He doesn’t wish he was straight anymore (he’s still scared of telling his dad, but he doesn’t loathe himself, so it’s a bit better) and there are a lot of messages on the site saying things like ‘it will get better’ and ‘my mom bought a rainbow flag when I came out’. (He skips everything that looks too sad.)
The blog makes him think. It makes him question. He sees words he’s familiar with and ones he’s heard before but doesn’t really know, and then, finally - ones that he’s never even seen written elsewhere.
Kurt googles them. He spends hours upon hours searching clear, understandable definitions to asexual and aromantic and bigendered and transgendered.
They make him think.
They make him question.
Kurt is a not-so-lonely teenage boy with too much time at his hands.
He doesn’t go straight home anymore because nowadays he has friends. Nowadays he has a boyfriend. Nowadays he has a reason to hang outside.
He still does the chores and spends a lot of time on homework, but it’s not because he has nothing more important to do.
He still spends a lot of time surfing in the Internet.
At sixteen, Kurt knows he’s gay. He’s known for a long time. He’s always liked boys. He thinks, though, that he might be a little asexual. (Can one be a little asexual? Some places say ‘yes‘ but he doesn‘t really get those.) He doesn’t know for sure because everything he knows from sex, aside from some awkward and useless sex ed lessons at school (he could swear that they’re awkward and useless for everyone because really, Finn, a tub?) and some brief forays into porn, Kurt doesn’t have any real experience about sex. He thinks that he’ll hate it but he might also like it, and he really can’t decide which alternative sounds more realistic.
When he tries thinking about sex, under his covers, one hand tapping nervously against his inner leg, brushing against his balls every now and then, he sees candles and flowers and a faceless guy moving above him.
It doesn’t do anything to him.
Kurt likes to believe that it’s because he doesn’t know much about sex.
One evening, when he’s alone at home, incredibly bored, and very tired of the constant stream of unknowing questions, Kurt locks the door to his room and curls on his bed with his laptop open on his knees. His heart beats oddly fast as he types the words ‘gay porn’ into the search bar, fingers painfully slow on the letters he knows by heart.
The cursor hovers above the first link for ages. Kurt isn’t sure if he wants to click it - with his luck, the site is probably full of viruses - but he does, eventually.
In a matter of a mere second, the screen is full of mostly naked men in different positions. Kurt breathes out slowly, eyes scanning the background pictures, the sidebar with a list of tags, the few videos on the front. One of the small background photos catches his interest, but it’s mostly because he can’t believe his eyes; it has to be photoshopped because no way a guy that big could fit his entire arm (hand, maybe, but up to his shoulder?) in another one’s ass!
Kurt spends the evening working through the tags. He can’t find a video of anything sweet and gentle, and the most normal scenes have men that are too rough and fast with each other, while the others are just plain freaky (the arm thing is real, apparently, and ouch).
He’s kind of hard when he closes the laptop. It softens a little before he’s done with washing his teeth and other stuff, but when Kurt crawls under his blankets and closes his eyes, the fire in his veins returns.
When he tries imagining things, the candles are there, but instead of his soft bed he has an old, dirty mattress, and for the first time ever (he thinks), he isn’t on his back.
“Get on your knees”, he can almost hear someone say (order), “get on your knees, now, slut.”
Kurt comes harder than ever before.
He’s never been this ashamed.
Kurt is still sixteen (almost seventeen), but now he has a boyfriend.
Blaine is nice. He’s sweet and caring and knows what it’s like to be a not-so-lonely gay teenage boy in a small city. Blaine loves music and has an amazing voice and it doesn’t matter that he has huge eyebrows or a short stature because those things make him that much hotter in Kurt’s eyes.
Kurt likes kissing Blaine - or rather, kissing with him.
By now, he’s got things somewhat figured out.
Kurt is gay. He’s also a freak who’d rather be used and abused than making love with someone.
He kind of wishes that someone else would tell him that he isn’t a freak. He wishes that someone else would figure it out and explain it to him. The net doesn’t help him in this one - when he asks about the whole d/s thing at some random forum, instead of “oh, you see…” he gets “damn, that’s hot” and PMs asking for his email.
Blaine does catch on.
It’s entirely Kurt’s fault. They’re in Blaine’s room, not his dorm for once, but his actual room, talking about the newest gossip (Blaine laughs when Kurt mentions the rumors about him and Sam) and just hanging around. They lounge on Blaine’s bed; the black-haired teen leans against the headboard and Kurt’s curled up against his side, safe and comfortable in his boyfriend’s hands.
Like always, ‘talking’ turns to ‘kissing’.
Kurt’s mind doesn’t register the movement until he’s under Blaine, his hands pinned to the bed right next to his face. Blaine might be shorter than him, but Kurt is still smaller, and the heavy weight above him is kind of thrilling, actually.
He can’t move.
He’s instantly hard.
Kurt doesn’t mean to whine when Blaine stills and pulls away, but he does, a pitiful mewl deep in his throat. He bucks his hips up without thinking.
Blaine pulls away completely, which causes Kurt to realize just what he’s done. His body freezes as the other teen unlaces the fingers previously woven with his, and he can’t help but to feel a little terrified because he just doesn’t know.
“Kurt?” Blaine murmurs, breathy and a little perplexed; Kurt blinks up at him because oh, what? “Sorry. I didn’t - uh, sorry.”
Kurt can only look up at the dark eyes speckled with gold. He doesn’t understand - why is Blaine apologizing? He’s the one who tried to cross that line they’ve barely touched in the past. He’s the one who tried to hump against his boyfriend.
Kurt is mortified even as he realizes that Blaine probably thinks that he crossed the line. That the whine must have meant ‘get off, stop’, instead of ‘oh fuck, do that again’.
“Uh, no”, the brunet mumbles, blushing. “You didn’t - you didn’t do anything. Really.”
“But you…”
Blaine doesn’t finish his sentence. Kurt thinks that he knows what the other teen means, though, and his fingers itch to touch him. He doesn’t dare do that. His palms curl up uselessly on the bedcovers.
“I liked it”, Kurt whispers. Blaine’s gaze locks on his eyes. “When you held me down. I liked it.”
“So… That wasn’t…”
Kurt wants to pull his legs up and turn away from Blaine when the black-haired teen gazes down his body. He doesn’t, though, because Blaine’s staring at him.
Blaine’s staring at his erection.
The pair of skinny jeans tented around his crotch becomes that much tighter at the realization.
“Oh”, Blaine gasps eventually. Finally he looks at Kurt’s face. “I though… ah.”
Kurt swallows when Blaine leans over his body. They don’t really touch, not now; Blaine hovers high above Kurt, muscles straining to hold him an arm’s length away. A spark of electricity runs through Kurt when Blaine lowers himself down until their lips are almost connected.
“Can I kiss you?” Blaine asks. Kurt can feel the hot puff of air tingle his skin. “Please?”
“Don’t ask”, Kurt breathes back boldly; he’s already said enough. “Do it if you want to.”
His mind barely registers the smirk on Blaine’s face before the other crashes against him. Blaine moves his hands until they pin Kurt’s arms down, and his hip presses against Kurt’s cock; the brunet thinks that this might be it. This might be when he loses his virginity.
It isn’t.
Kurt is dangerously close to coming in his pants when Blaine pulls away. Again, he whines and mewls, bucks upwards, but Blaine doesn’t relent. Instead he drops down on the bed and pulls Kurt to his chest.
Kurt almost loses himself when Blaine’s tight nudges his crotch. Almost.
“Kurt?”
“Yeah?”
“What was that earlier?”
“Oh Gaga, no!” Kurt gasps. “We are not having a serious conversation of any kind when I’m seconds away from ruining my pants and not caring about it!”
Underneath him, Blaine’s chest rumbles with laughter. Kurt lifts himself up to his elbows and gapes at him, cursing his luck, cursing his stupid mouth - he isn’t so sure about this anymore. He’s said enough. He doesn’t want to spill more.
“No, really, Kurt”, Blaine says after a while, wiping water from the corners of his eyes. “I’m serious here.”
Kurt lays his body down once more and sighs. His fingers draw random figures on Blaine’s chest.
“I don’t know what to say”, he admits. “Or, well, I do… but it’s embarrassing.”
“I promise I won’t laugh”, Blaine murmurs back. His fingers thread through Kurt’s hair, pulling the brown locks free of their confines. “I love you.”
“I know that”, Kurt mumbles. “And I love you, too. But it’s… scary. I feel like I did when I came out to dad.”
Blaine only hums quietly.
“Remember when we talked about those kinds of films? Porn?”
“It’s kind of hard to not to”, Blaine says. “Listen, I’m really sorry about--”
“I lied.” Blaine falls silent immediately. “I do watch it. I mean, I’m sixteen, almost seventeen. Of course I watch porn. I just like the kinky stuff.”
“Oh.”
Kurt doesn’t know what he’s saying anymore. He just needs to keep the words spilling or he’ll lose the courage to say anything else.
“You know, there was once this absolutely ridiculous video. One guy was leashed and stripped down to a pair of boxers that had this hole on them, and then they stuck one of those puppy tail plugs into him and made him crawl across the city like that. It was--”
“Is that what you want?”
There’s a hint of something negative in Blaine’s voice, but it isn’t disgust, that much Kurt knows. He doesn’t dwell on it, though, too busy freaking over what Blaine just asked.
“No!” he shrieks, flushing. “No, oh Gaga, no! I’m just - submissive.” There, he’s said it. “I think. Really submissive. You know.”
Blaine sighs and pulls Kurt closer. It takes the brunet a second to realize that; when Blaine didn’t answer immediately, he kind of assumed it was because the revelation was too much.
“Oh. Good. I mean, uh - the dog thing? Too weird. But this…”
A warm hand tickles Kurt’s ribs lightly. Hope swells inside him but he doesn’t have time to think or speak before Blaine rolls them around once more.
Blaine kisses him.
Blaine doesn’t ask. Blaine doesn’t warm. He just claims what Kurt is willing to call his.
“God, you’re so hot”, Blaine murmurs against Kurt’s neck. “Beautiful.”
Kurt gasps as Blaine grinds their hips together. His erection had wilted almost completely during the internal freak-out, but now it’s coming back, hot and pulsing in his jeans. Kurt cries out when Blaine begins sucking on his neck.
His dad is going to kill him when he gets home.
Kurt couldn’t care any less.
Suddenly Blaine grunts and moves away, again, though his fingers are still laced with Kurt’s.
“Dinner’s ready in fifteen minutes”, he murmurs. “We should stop.”
Kurt pouts. “I don’t want to.”
“Too bad. Come on.”
Blaine sits up and offers his hands to Kurt, pulling the other into a sitting position. The movement tightens the fabric of Kurt’s pants even more.
“I hate you.”
“Of course you do. Uh… Do you want to, uh, take care of that?”
Kurt blushes at the words, trying to pretend that Blaine didn’t just point at his bulge. A large, wet dot has already formed on the dark fabric.
“It’ll go away soon enough”, Kurt mumbles. Blaine raises an eyebrow. “What about you? Aren’t you going to do anything about that?”
Blaine snorts. “Oh, I will, when I go change out of uniform.” He smirks. “The bathroom’s that way, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“Shut up.”
Kurt is sure that the red color on his cheeks can’t deepen any more, but the fire dancing on his skin burns hotter than before. Blaine just stares at him, eyes twinkling, mouth curled up in a mischievous smile that makes Kurt want to pull him back to the bed.
Blaine leans in and presses a chaste kiss under Kurt’s ear.
“What if I want you to?” he whispers, filthy and sultry. “What if I want you to go the bathroom to jerk off while I stand in the next room, naked, doing the same?”
Oh Gucci.
Kurt has to bite back the mewl threatening to escape his lips when he hears Blaine murmur those words. His entire body is on fire, and the heat pooling in his stomach shifts about, sending shivers of pleasure everywhere whenever the other teen speaks.
“Make me”, Kurt speaks back eventually. He turns his head to kiss Blaine. “See if you can.”
In a split second, Blaine’s palm is a heavy pressure on his cock, and a pair of hot lips draw their way to his ear. Kurt shivers, still in the clutches of pleasure and embarrassment.
“Go to the bathroom”, Blaine orders, “and do it. I’ll get you a new pair of pants ready while you’re at it.”
A whine cuts the air as Blaine removes his hand and stands up. Kurt sits on the bed for a moment, feeling feverish and dizzy - he can’t think and ohgodohgod, this is really happening--
“Well?”
Kurt is embarrassed and humiliated and totally in love with Blaine. His legs shake as he stands up - for a second, he’s absolutely positive that there’s an earthquake going on - and the gaze eyeing his body is way hotter than it should be - and then Blaine is gone, disappearing into the walk-in closet, and Kurt stands alone in the middle of the large room, pants tented and face flushed.
In the bathroom, he doesn’t quite know what to do. Or rather, he does, but really - does Blaine actually expect him to do it? Kurt swallows around the tightness in his throat and lets his hand fall down onto his tight, hovering near his crotch. The mental image of Blaine watching him jerk off sends flashes of heat through Kurt’s body.
A knock on the bathroom door startles the brunet.
“Kurt, we’re running out of time,” Blaine’s voice reminds him from the other side. “You should hurry up.”
Blaine wants him to do it.
With a whimper, Kurt reaches to undo his jeans.