The Women We Love Fest, Day Four: In Which We Write Fic
Title: Fear of Falling (or, How Kurt Hummel Got One Step Closer to Getting His Groove On)
Author: lookninjas
Fandoms: Glee
Pairing/Character(s): Kurt, Brittany (Blaine/Kurt mentioned)
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word Count: 2300 or so
Spoilers: None. Fic takes place sometime after "Rumours," but before "Prom Queen."
Standard-Issue Short-Form Disclaimer: I do not hold copyright to Glee, make no claims to such, and am not profiting from this.
Summary: Kurt might be smart about things like French and geometry, but he's not smart about everything. Luckily for him, Brittany's smart when he isn't.
Author's Notes: Written for the Women We Love fest. (Other entries can be found under this tag.) This is a sort of combination of today's earlier meta about Brittany and sex, and then the meta from Saturday about Brittany and Kurt. There is also some meta about Kurt and sex. There's a lot of meta, basically.
Also, because I'm already playing catch-up and therefore need to get this posted by midnight or end up falling perpetually behind, this is probably rough as hell. Sorry about that.
The thing about Blaine is that he tends to put Kurt in these really awkward situations, even if he doesn't mean to. Like when Kurt had to go to the GAP to serenade Blaine's crush for him, or that horrible Rachel Berry party with the kissing and the weird jealousy that followed, or the time when Kurt's dad found Blaine in Kurt's bed and wanted explanations, or the pamphlets (God, the pamphlets).
Or like sitting in his sort-of-kind-of-not-really-ex-girlfriend's kind of frighteningly pink and frilly bedroom, trying to ask her for sex advice without actually using the word "sex." Which is not going so well, judging by the nervous look on her face.
"Kurt," Brittany says, sounding a little dubious. "I mean, I want to help you, but everyone knows you're smarter than I am, so..."
Kurt has to wonder if she's still thinking about Artie, and how he called her "stupid," and it aches a little bit and also makes him feel vaguely guilty, because it's not like he hasn't said or at least thought the same thing once or twice, even if he's pretty sure he never said it to her face. "Well," he says, because he's not really sure what to say, to make this better. "I mean, there's things that I'm smarter at, like French or geometry or showtunes. But then there's things where you're the smart one. Like... Like cat diseases."
Brittany blinks at him. "You have a cat?" she asks. "I didn't know you have a cat. Is it a kitten? Because if it's a kitten, and if you got him from a pet store, then it's probably distemper, although it could also be a parasite or maybe --"
"I don't have a cat, Brittany," Kurt says, cutting her off before she can go too far -- he's already heard most of this from Rachel anyway (she went through a brief anti-pet store phase a few weeks ago, spurred by Mercedes' demands for a fluffy puppy and Rachel's subsequent discovery of puppy mills). "It's not actually about cat. It's about... It's about Blaine."
"Oh," Brittany says. Then, "Does Blaine have a cat?"
Kurt fights the urge to bury his head in his hands, because he really doesn't want to make Brittany feel like she's frustrating him right now (even if, honestly, she kind of is). "No, Brittany," he says, a little too sharp, and then takes a deep breath and decides to go for it. "It's not about cats at all. Or cat diseases. I need your help with... with Blaine. With me and Blaine."
There's a pause; Brittany looks puzzled for a second, then worried. "But... But you and Blaine seemed so happy," she says. "I thought you were happy. Aren't you?"
"We are," Kurt says, quickly, and reaches out to pat at Brittany's hand. "We are, Brittany. We're very happy. It's just... There's some things that I've been thinking of, that I wanted to try, but I don't know --"
Brittany beams at him. "Oh my God," she says. "Oh my God, Kurt. You're getting Blaine a kitten? That's so sweet."
"No," Kurt says, a little too loud, and Brittany pulls back like she's about to get upset; Kurt has to reach out quickly, snag her hands and pull her back to him. "No, Brittany, there's no kitten. Forget about the kitten. I don't need help with that; I need..." He bites his lip. "I need help with... With sex." The word hangs in the air between them, sort of surprisingly big and scary for something that's really just three little letters, and that's it; Kurt can feel himself starting to slip into full babbling mode. "Not that I want to have sex with Blaine -- not that I don't, either, but it's a lot and we're not ready for that. I know that. But I'm ready for... well, for more, and I think that Blaine is, too, but I know he's kind of waiting for me because I'm nervous and even if he wasn't, I don't want him to do all the work anyway because that's not... that's not how it is, with us, and I want to meet him at least halfway, but I don't really know what I'm doing, and so I get scared and I can't do..." He takes a deep breath; he needs it, after a speech like that. "I can't do anything. At all. And I want to, Brittany. I want to do... things. With Blaine."
"Okay," Brittany says, slowly, and Kurt would almost think he'd frightened her off, except that she's scooting a little closer to him, shifting things around so that now she's the one holding his hand. "Okay. So... Like, what kinds of things do you want to do?"
"I don't know," Kurt snaps, frustrated, and he's not sure how it is that Brittany can tell that he's frustrated with himself and not with her, but she can; she pets lightly at his shoulder, like she's trying to calm him down. "I mean, I had his shirt off the other day, and there was just so much... But how do I even know what he likes, or how hard to do it, or if I should just touch or maybe... you know, like... kissing, not just his lips or his neck, but... but then what if that's weird or he doesn't like it, or..."
And the thing about Brittany, the strange and wonderful thing is that she listens to all of this and she doesn't once look like she's about to laugh at him. Not even once. "Have you asked him what he likes?" she asks, gently.
Kurt just groans. "He says he likes everything," he sighs. "I mean, what does that even mean? That could mean anything. Like, that he likes pinching, or biting, or putting chocolate syrup in strange places, or --"
"Or maybe it means that he's just happy having you there," Brittany suggests, still rubbing his shoulder. It kind of reminds him of the way she calms down Santana when she's upset, and feels good in a way that he's not expecting.
But it's not good enough to make Kurt stop feeling so damned bad. "I don't want to just be there," he says, and it sounds sulky even to him. "I want to... I want to participate. I just don't know how."
Brittany smiles at him. "Sure you do," she says. "Just... do what you're thinking, only... don't think about it. Like... Okay, if he's got his shirt off, and there's something you want to touch, then don't think about touching it. Just touch it. And if he likes that, and you think maybe you might want to move your hand, or maybe try kissing it or something, then try that. But you can't think about it too much, Kurt, or you'll spend all your time thinking things and then never doing them."
"But..." He feels weirdly deflated. "But how do I know if he'll like it?"
"Squirming's a good sign," Brittany says. "Usually. Not always. Sometimes people who are ticklish will get squirmy, too, and then you have to back off. Breathing hard; a lot of the time, if guys like something, they'll breathe hard. Just make sure that he doesn't have asthma, because then he might need his inhaler. Or if he makes noises. Noises are good. Mostly. Sometimes."
Before he even has the chance to stop himself, Kurt has dropped his head into his hands and groaned again. "Okay, seriously, Brittany, this is really not helping." Then he remembers that he's trying to not say things like that to Brittany right now, and straightens up. "I mean, not that I don't appreciate that you're trying to help, because I do, but --"
Brittany just shrugs, and smiles at him again. "Kurt, I can't tell you what Blaine will do if he likes something," she says. "Because I don't know him. But you do. And... I mean, you're at least kissing, right? And you know what he does when he likes the way you're kissing him. Right?"
"He..." Kurt blushes, stares down at his hands. "He sort of makes this... it's not loud, or anything, but it's definitely... it's a good sound. And then he sort of squeezes my arms, or something, or pulls my hair a little, but not too hard, just sort of... Like he's worried I'll move if he doesn't sort of hold me in place. Like he wants to keep me there."
"See?" Brittany says, and spreads her hands, like she's showing him the answer. "So you try things until you find something he likes, and then he'll make sure you stay right there, and you'll know."
It is a start -- Kurt will admit that. But it's not what he came here for. "But isn't there... I mean, there's good spots and bad spots, right? Like, there's things that guys like, and then things that they don't."
Another little shrug. "Well, yeah," Brittany says. "I mean, kind of. I mean... there are, but they're different for every guy. Like, Puck always really liked it when I stuck my tongue in his ear, but then I tried it with you and you elbowed me in the boob, so I'm pretty sure you didn't like it. So, really --"
"Oh God," Kurt moans, because he'd almost blocked that out but now it's back again, and he can just see how this is going to end. "Oh God. Blaine's going to elbow me in the boob. Or in the chest, since I don't have boobs. Or in the stomach, or --"
"Probably," Brittany says, and God, how can she be so calm about this? "He probably will. And then he'll do something and you won't like it, or you'll be ticklish there, and you'll shove him on the floor or something. That happens a lot more than you'd think. But that's... I mean, that's kind of what sex is, Kurt. Sometimes you fall off the bed. Everyone does. It's okay."
"Oh God," Kurt says again, because this isn't what he wanted at all, and now he's not sure he can do this at all. "Oh my God, I'm going to knock him off the bed and he'll think that I don't want to have sex with him at all, and --"
"Kurt," Brittany says, and it's actually almost stern; Kurt didn't think Brittany was even capable of sounding like that. "He won't think that. And if he does, then just pick him up off the floor and show him that you do. He'll figure it out pretty fast. Guys are good at that."
"But..." And the hell of it is, he's pretty sure Brittany's right. Not just because she has more experience than he does (because let's face it, Rachel Berry has more experience than he does), but because it actually makes sense. It makes a lot more sense than what he thought he was going to get, which was sort of a road-map of male erogenous zones, like his own personal Cosmo's Guide to Men. But that doesn't mean he has to like it, because he doesn't. "But I'm going to look so stupid."
Brittany just shrugs. "Looking stupid's not the same thing as being stupid," she says. "And Blaine won't think you're stupid, because he loves you. And if you really, really love someone, then you don't think that they're stupid. You can't. Because you love them too much."
That stings more than Kurt expected it to; it also gives him the weirdest urge to go yell at Artie, although he's not going to. Instead, he finally meets Brittany's eyes for the first time since he found himself uttering the word "sex," and grabs her hand, and says, "Then I guess I really, really love you."
Brittany's smile is one of the best smiles he's ever seen. "I really love you, too," she says, and grabs his other hand. "And Blaine really loves you. And you're going to be okay. Even if you do push him off the bed. Just don't be scared. You weren't scared with me, were you?"
"Of course not," Kurt says, and squeezes her hands. Because it's true; he wasn't scared with Brittany. He never has been. "How could I be? You were my boo."
"And now Blaine's your boo," Brittany says. "So it's okay."
Kurt just shakes his head. "You're still my boo," he says, and pulls her in until she's close enough to hug. "Boo."
Brittany just hugs him back, burying her face in his shoulder. "Blaine's your boo now," she repeats. "And I'm really, really happy for you, Kurt. And I don't want you to be scared, okay? Don't be scared."
"I'm not," he says, and it's not totally true, but it is, mostly. And if he hugs Brittany a little longer, then he thinks it'll be all the way true. "I'm not anymore."
"Good," she says, and she must know how much he needs to stay right where he is, because she doesn't let go of him at all. "Kurt?"
"Yeah, boo?"
She giggles. "Kurt, if you get Blaine a kitten, can I help you name him?"
Kurt laughs, too, because he really isn't that scared anymore, and relief is making him a little bit giddy. "Name him anything you want," he says.
Author: lookninjas
Fandoms: Glee
Pairing/Character(s): Kurt, Brittany (Blaine/Kurt mentioned)
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word Count: 2300 or so
Spoilers: None. Fic takes place sometime after "Rumours," but before "Prom Queen."
Standard-Issue Short-Form Disclaimer: I do not hold copyright to Glee, make no claims to such, and am not profiting from this.
Summary: Kurt might be smart about things like French and geometry, but he's not smart about everything. Luckily for him, Brittany's smart when he isn't.
Author's Notes: Written for the Women We Love fest. (Other entries can be found under this tag.) This is a sort of combination of today's earlier meta about Brittany and sex, and then the meta from Saturday about Brittany and Kurt. There is also some meta about Kurt and sex. There's a lot of meta, basically.
Also, because I'm already playing catch-up and therefore need to get this posted by midnight or end up falling perpetually behind, this is probably rough as hell. Sorry about that.
The thing about Blaine is that he tends to put Kurt in these really awkward situations, even if he doesn't mean to. Like when Kurt had to go to the GAP to serenade Blaine's crush for him, or that horrible Rachel Berry party with the kissing and the weird jealousy that followed, or the time when Kurt's dad found Blaine in Kurt's bed and wanted explanations, or the pamphlets (God, the pamphlets).
Or like sitting in his sort-of-kind-of-not-really-ex-girlfriend's kind of frighteningly pink and frilly bedroom, trying to ask her for sex advice without actually using the word "sex." Which is not going so well, judging by the nervous look on her face.
"Kurt," Brittany says, sounding a little dubious. "I mean, I want to help you, but everyone knows you're smarter than I am, so..."
Kurt has to wonder if she's still thinking about Artie, and how he called her "stupid," and it aches a little bit and also makes him feel vaguely guilty, because it's not like he hasn't said or at least thought the same thing once or twice, even if he's pretty sure he never said it to her face. "Well," he says, because he's not really sure what to say, to make this better. "I mean, there's things that I'm smarter at, like French or geometry or showtunes. But then there's things where you're the smart one. Like... Like cat diseases."
Brittany blinks at him. "You have a cat?" she asks. "I didn't know you have a cat. Is it a kitten? Because if it's a kitten, and if you got him from a pet store, then it's probably distemper, although it could also be a parasite or maybe --"
"I don't have a cat, Brittany," Kurt says, cutting her off before she can go too far -- he's already heard most of this from Rachel anyway (she went through a brief anti-pet store phase a few weeks ago, spurred by Mercedes' demands for a fluffy puppy and Rachel's subsequent discovery of puppy mills). "It's not actually about cat. It's about... It's about Blaine."
"Oh," Brittany says. Then, "Does Blaine have a cat?"
Kurt fights the urge to bury his head in his hands, because he really doesn't want to make Brittany feel like she's frustrating him right now (even if, honestly, she kind of is). "No, Brittany," he says, a little too sharp, and then takes a deep breath and decides to go for it. "It's not about cats at all. Or cat diseases. I need your help with... with Blaine. With me and Blaine."
There's a pause; Brittany looks puzzled for a second, then worried. "But... But you and Blaine seemed so happy," she says. "I thought you were happy. Aren't you?"
"We are," Kurt says, quickly, and reaches out to pat at Brittany's hand. "We are, Brittany. We're very happy. It's just... There's some things that I've been thinking of, that I wanted to try, but I don't know --"
Brittany beams at him. "Oh my God," she says. "Oh my God, Kurt. You're getting Blaine a kitten? That's so sweet."
"No," Kurt says, a little too loud, and Brittany pulls back like she's about to get upset; Kurt has to reach out quickly, snag her hands and pull her back to him. "No, Brittany, there's no kitten. Forget about the kitten. I don't need help with that; I need..." He bites his lip. "I need help with... With sex." The word hangs in the air between them, sort of surprisingly big and scary for something that's really just three little letters, and that's it; Kurt can feel himself starting to slip into full babbling mode. "Not that I want to have sex with Blaine -- not that I don't, either, but it's a lot and we're not ready for that. I know that. But I'm ready for... well, for more, and I think that Blaine is, too, but I know he's kind of waiting for me because I'm nervous and even if he wasn't, I don't want him to do all the work anyway because that's not... that's not how it is, with us, and I want to meet him at least halfway, but I don't really know what I'm doing, and so I get scared and I can't do..." He takes a deep breath; he needs it, after a speech like that. "I can't do anything. At all. And I want to, Brittany. I want to do... things. With Blaine."
"Okay," Brittany says, slowly, and Kurt would almost think he'd frightened her off, except that she's scooting a little closer to him, shifting things around so that now she's the one holding his hand. "Okay. So... Like, what kinds of things do you want to do?"
"I don't know," Kurt snaps, frustrated, and he's not sure how it is that Brittany can tell that he's frustrated with himself and not with her, but she can; she pets lightly at his shoulder, like she's trying to calm him down. "I mean, I had his shirt off the other day, and there was just so much... But how do I even know what he likes, or how hard to do it, or if I should just touch or maybe... you know, like... kissing, not just his lips or his neck, but... but then what if that's weird or he doesn't like it, or..."
And the thing about Brittany, the strange and wonderful thing is that she listens to all of this and she doesn't once look like she's about to laugh at him. Not even once. "Have you asked him what he likes?" she asks, gently.
Kurt just groans. "He says he likes everything," he sighs. "I mean, what does that even mean? That could mean anything. Like, that he likes pinching, or biting, or putting chocolate syrup in strange places, or --"
"Or maybe it means that he's just happy having you there," Brittany suggests, still rubbing his shoulder. It kind of reminds him of the way she calms down Santana when she's upset, and feels good in a way that he's not expecting.
But it's not good enough to make Kurt stop feeling so damned bad. "I don't want to just be there," he says, and it sounds sulky even to him. "I want to... I want to participate. I just don't know how."
Brittany smiles at him. "Sure you do," she says. "Just... do what you're thinking, only... don't think about it. Like... Okay, if he's got his shirt off, and there's something you want to touch, then don't think about touching it. Just touch it. And if he likes that, and you think maybe you might want to move your hand, or maybe try kissing it or something, then try that. But you can't think about it too much, Kurt, or you'll spend all your time thinking things and then never doing them."
"But..." He feels weirdly deflated. "But how do I know if he'll like it?"
"Squirming's a good sign," Brittany says. "Usually. Not always. Sometimes people who are ticklish will get squirmy, too, and then you have to back off. Breathing hard; a lot of the time, if guys like something, they'll breathe hard. Just make sure that he doesn't have asthma, because then he might need his inhaler. Or if he makes noises. Noises are good. Mostly. Sometimes."
Before he even has the chance to stop himself, Kurt has dropped his head into his hands and groaned again. "Okay, seriously, Brittany, this is really not helping." Then he remembers that he's trying to not say things like that to Brittany right now, and straightens up. "I mean, not that I don't appreciate that you're trying to help, because I do, but --"
Brittany just shrugs, and smiles at him again. "Kurt, I can't tell you what Blaine will do if he likes something," she says. "Because I don't know him. But you do. And... I mean, you're at least kissing, right? And you know what he does when he likes the way you're kissing him. Right?"
"He..." Kurt blushes, stares down at his hands. "He sort of makes this... it's not loud, or anything, but it's definitely... it's a good sound. And then he sort of squeezes my arms, or something, or pulls my hair a little, but not too hard, just sort of... Like he's worried I'll move if he doesn't sort of hold me in place. Like he wants to keep me there."
"See?" Brittany says, and spreads her hands, like she's showing him the answer. "So you try things until you find something he likes, and then he'll make sure you stay right there, and you'll know."
It is a start -- Kurt will admit that. But it's not what he came here for. "But isn't there... I mean, there's good spots and bad spots, right? Like, there's things that guys like, and then things that they don't."
Another little shrug. "Well, yeah," Brittany says. "I mean, kind of. I mean... there are, but they're different for every guy. Like, Puck always really liked it when I stuck my tongue in his ear, but then I tried it with you and you elbowed me in the boob, so I'm pretty sure you didn't like it. So, really --"
"Oh God," Kurt moans, because he'd almost blocked that out but now it's back again, and he can just see how this is going to end. "Oh God. Blaine's going to elbow me in the boob. Or in the chest, since I don't have boobs. Or in the stomach, or --"
"Probably," Brittany says, and God, how can she be so calm about this? "He probably will. And then he'll do something and you won't like it, or you'll be ticklish there, and you'll shove him on the floor or something. That happens a lot more than you'd think. But that's... I mean, that's kind of what sex is, Kurt. Sometimes you fall off the bed. Everyone does. It's okay."
"Oh God," Kurt says again, because this isn't what he wanted at all, and now he's not sure he can do this at all. "Oh my God, I'm going to knock him off the bed and he'll think that I don't want to have sex with him at all, and --"
"Kurt," Brittany says, and it's actually almost stern; Kurt didn't think Brittany was even capable of sounding like that. "He won't think that. And if he does, then just pick him up off the floor and show him that you do. He'll figure it out pretty fast. Guys are good at that."
"But..." And the hell of it is, he's pretty sure Brittany's right. Not just because she has more experience than he does (because let's face it, Rachel Berry has more experience than he does), but because it actually makes sense. It makes a lot more sense than what he thought he was going to get, which was sort of a road-map of male erogenous zones, like his own personal Cosmo's Guide to Men. But that doesn't mean he has to like it, because he doesn't. "But I'm going to look so stupid."
Brittany just shrugs. "Looking stupid's not the same thing as being stupid," she says. "And Blaine won't think you're stupid, because he loves you. And if you really, really love someone, then you don't think that they're stupid. You can't. Because you love them too much."
That stings more than Kurt expected it to; it also gives him the weirdest urge to go yell at Artie, although he's not going to. Instead, he finally meets Brittany's eyes for the first time since he found himself uttering the word "sex," and grabs her hand, and says, "Then I guess I really, really love you."
Brittany's smile is one of the best smiles he's ever seen. "I really love you, too," she says, and grabs his other hand. "And Blaine really loves you. And you're going to be okay. Even if you do push him off the bed. Just don't be scared. You weren't scared with me, were you?"
"Of course not," Kurt says, and squeezes her hands. Because it's true; he wasn't scared with Brittany. He never has been. "How could I be? You were my boo."
"And now Blaine's your boo," Brittany says. "So it's okay."
Kurt just shakes his head. "You're still my boo," he says, and pulls her in until she's close enough to hug. "Boo."
Brittany just hugs him back, burying her face in his shoulder. "Blaine's your boo now," she repeats. "And I'm really, really happy for you, Kurt. And I don't want you to be scared, okay? Don't be scared."
"I'm not," he says, and it's not totally true, but it is, mostly. And if he hugs Brittany a little longer, then he thinks it'll be all the way true. "I'm not anymore."
"Good," she says, and she must know how much he needs to stay right where he is, because she doesn't let go of him at all. "Kurt?"
"Yeah, boo?"
She giggles. "Kurt, if you get Blaine a kitten, can I help you name him?"
Kurt laughs, too, because he really isn't that scared anymore, and relief is making him a little bit giddy. "Name him anything you want," he says.