Fic: Porcelain
Title: Porcelain
Author: pterawaters
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Kurt/Puck, Sandy Ryerson
Genre: Angst
Warnings: non-con, child abuse, underage prostitution, implied murder
Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: Glee is not mine, at all
Words: 2K
Author’s Note: Written in response to this prompt by superninjagurl. Sorry it’s so short. I can’t write long angst. I don’t have it in me.
Summary: Porcelain has lost count of how many times he has been sold as a virgin.
Kurt couldn't remember how many times Porcelain's virginity had been bought and sold before he went away. He lost track somewhere around thirty, at least a few months before the last "deflowering".
Kurt lost his virginity in a dark room where he was promised a new life and found it, but it wasn't like he'd been hoping for when the social worker told him they'd found a placement.
"It'll be okay," the lady with the red hair and the wide eyes promised him, a light hand on his shoulder. "Mr. Ryerson has another foster son named Noah. I'm sure he'll look out for you."
Kurt sneered at the painted-pink house and held back his tears. They were worthless anyway. His parents were gone, his aunt was in rehab or something. Mr. Ryerson with his pink house and his kitten-shaped lawn ornaments was the only person who would take him in. The doorbell Miss Pillsbury rang was cheery enough, but Kurt was still scared.
An older boy wearing sweats and a tank top, a lit cigarette perched between his fingers, opened the door. "Hey, Miss P," he greeted the social worker. "Who's this?"
Frowning at the cigarette, the woman replied, "This is your new foster brother, Kurt Hummel! Kurt, this is Noah. Mr. Ryerson adopted him a few years ago."
Kurt nodded, but found he had nothing worthwhile to say.
"Cool," Noah nodded, taking a drag from his cigarette. "C'mon in. Can already tell Sandy's gonna love you."
Something in the boy's voice made Kurt shudder, but he had no where left to go, so he let Miss Pillsbury push him through the door. She waved and left, saying, "I'll check on you in a few days!"
Turning to Noah, Kurt asked, "Where is Mr. Ryerson?"
"Out," he replied, leading the way back toward a cheap, but well maintained living room. "He'll be back soon."
"Shouldn't you be in school?"
Noah laughed and flopped down in a wide armchair. "Got my GED a few months ago. Don't need school."
Kurt sighed and set his suitcase down at his feet, moving to sit on the couch. Noah watched TV and Kurt watched Noah, wondering why he was at home all day instead of in college or working or something. "You have a job, Noah?" he asked.
"Yeah," he replied, stubbing out his cigarette and checking his watch. "Speaking of, I gotta go. Kitchen's that way. Make yourself, you know, at home. Whatever. Oh, and call me Puck."
"Sure," Kurt nodded, watching as Puck grabbed a set of keys from near the doorway and left, still clad in what Kurt considered pajamas.
Kurt poked around the house, finding Puck's room right away and then Mr. Ryerson's. He wondered if he'd be allowed the sunny guest bedroom, but he didn't want to assume.
At least one and a half episodes of "What not to wear" later, Kurt met his new foster parent, disliking instantly the man's preppy-wannabe clothes and his nasally voice. "So you're Kurt? Welcome!"
Kurt thought everything was fine until night fell. “So pretty,” Sandy muttered, brushing a hand over Kurt’s hair and before he could figure out what was going on, Kurt was gagged with his hands tied behind his back and Sandy’s weight holding him down to the rickety twin bed in “his” room. “Shh. Shh. There’s a good boy. It’ll be over soon.” Kurt screamed around his gag but no one came to help him, letting him choke on his tears as Sandy did things to him and took his virginity.
It didn’t hurt as much as Kurt imagined it would and he wondered what that said about him and his pathetic attempts to fight back.
Maybe an hour after Sandy left him tied by his hands and ankles to the bed, the door opened again and Kurt cried out, thinking he was back for another round. Instead it was that other boy, Noah - Puck - creeping into the room and closing the door softly behind him.
“God, I’m so sorry, man,” the boy sighed, kneeling down beside the bed and reaching for Kurt’s gag. “You’ll keep quiet if I take this out?”
Desperate to get more than a few desperate breaths through the cloth or through his snot-stuffed nose, Kurt nodded. Puck reached for him gently and untied the gag from around his mouth, letting Kurt take a deep breath once he was free of it. Clearing his throat, Kurt whispered, “You have to get me out of here!”
“And go where?” Puck asked cynically. “The police? Yeah, I tried that one already.”
“He’s…?” Kurt sobbed softly. “He’s done this to you?”
Screwing his mouth to one side, Puck shrugged and nodded. “He’s really careful, man. There’s no damage, he uses a condom, he reports you missing right away so he can play the worried father. No way out.”
“Let me try?” Kurt begged, sure that if he told someone, they would have to believe him. “I’ll go to Miss Pillsbury.”
Puck shook his head sadly. “If I let you out, he’ll know it was me. He’ll…” Puck shuddered and Kurt really didn’t want to know what punishment Puck was thinking about. “I’ll untie you, but I can’t let you go.”
“Alright,” Kurt agreed, his limbs aching from their unaccustomed positions. “I promise, Puck.”
When Puck’s fingers grazed the skin of his wrists, Kurt flinched. He couldn’t help it. Every touch burned and reminded him of the violation he’d just endured. Once Puck was done untying his ankles, Kurt curled in on himself, holding his legs close to his chest as he cried. What he wouldn’t give for his parents to be alive again, for this all to be a bad dream.
“I know,” Puck whispered, sitting next to him and holding out his arm like an offer, but carefully not touching Kurt unbidden. “I know, dude.”
“How long?” Kurt asked, shifting a little closer to the warm boy, wondering if he could take the comfort offered. “How long have you been with him?”
“Six years,” Puck replied. “Three more months until I’m old enough to leave for good.”
Kurt shook his head and fell into Puck’s embrace, not wanting to think about a day when he might be left here alone with his new foster father. “How can you stand it?”
Puck shrugged around him and pressed his cheek against Kurt’s hair. “Don’t really remember what it was like before.”
**88**
The next day, Kurt learned that Sandy set up “meetings” for Puck and expected him to hand over the money when he came home. When they were alone in the kitchen, Kurt asked Puck, “What do you do at these meetings?”
“Have sex,” Puck replied, handing Kurt a dish to dry.
“You’re a prostitute?”
Closing his eyes and leaning forward against the sink, Puck muttered, mostly to himself, Kurt thought, “Three more months.”
**88**
A week later, Sandy picked Kurt up after school (like he always did) and drove him in the opposite direction from the pink house, saying, “You’ll cooperate for me, won’t you Porcelain? You’ll let my friend do what he’s paying to do - take your virginity.”
“But you-” Kurt protested, watching the world fly by and wondering what would happen if he just jumped out of the car.
“I did no such thing,” Sandy insisted with a silly grin that made Kurt shudder. “And you’re going to cooperate, aren’t you? I’ve got a lot of money riding on this.”
“If I don’t…” Kurt posed, toying with the idea of reaching up to grab the door handle, wondering exactly how quickly he could get unbuckled and out the door. The only thing stopping him was the certainty that Sandy would just have the cops find him and return him “home” as they had when he ran away from school the first day he went.
“If you don’t,” Sandy said, his voice cheerful, “it’s the box again, young man. You know, you’re almost as bad at discipline as Noah was.”
Kurt scoffed.
Sandy’s friend had cigarette breath and wiry chest and belly hair. He seemed to like the fact that Porcelain cried.
**88**
Kurt tried to squirrel away evidence that Sandy was pimping him out, but the man found his stash and locked Kurt in the tight, cramped hallway closet overnight. It was so dark and there were so many noises from the house around him and there was no room to sit between a stack of boots and the vacuum cleaner. Kurt started hallucinating and passed out, knocking his head against the closet door.
When his teacher asked what happened, Kurt told her. When the man came to pick Kurt up, he saw Sandy pass an envelope to the teacher. No one brought it up again.
**88**
The second man Porcelain gave his “virginity” to had salt-and-pepper hair and glasses that he set aside before bending him over the arm of a leather sofa. It hurt more than the man before, but only just. There was still no proof and Kurt was sure his sexuality would be used against him if he tried to complain again. Sandy would say he tried to keep Kurt on the straight and narrow, but Kurt was determined to live a homosexual lifestyle.
Sandy had a girlfriend who seemed more than a little touched in the head. Her name was Brenda and she pinched Kurt’s cheeks and asked him about school. When Kurt told her Sandy was a bad man she laughed and said, “Such a sense of humor!”
**88**
Three months and eighteen virginities in, Puck stopped coming home. Kurt saw more “friends” of Sandy’s to make up for the difference. One day, after just getting off the phone, Sandy frowned at Kurt and said, “You just won’t do for my female friends, now will you? Too skinny and boyish. If the virginity angle wasn’t so lucrative, we might have changed that.”
Kurt fantasized about killing Sandy with a kitchen knife, before he realized that prison wouldn’t be any better for a boy like him.
**88**
Six months and more than thirty virginities later, Puck came back. He was very thin, his lips cracking and his eyes bloodshot. “Oh, Noah,” Sandy said, pulling the young man into a hug that Kurt hated witnessing. “Just couldn’t make it on your own, could you?”
“No,” Puck rasped, winking at Kurt over Sandy’s shoulder. Kurt refused to get his hopes up.
**88**
Two virginities later, Sandy Ryerson died of a heart attack. At least, that’s what the coroner said. Kurt was sure Puck had something to do with it, but he kept his mouth shut. When Miss Pillsbury came to collect Kurt, Puck asked, “Can I take him? I’m eighteen now and he’s kinda like the little brother I never had.”
“We’ll see,” the social worker nodded, her smile bright and yet sad, like she was sure Kurt would be mourning his foster father’s death. Kurt wanted to dance on the man’s grave and it hadn’t even been dug yet.
**88**
Porcelain died with Sandy Ryerson. Kurt revised his history and lost his virginity to Puck on a lazy Saturday afternoon after they’d been living together for almost a year. Puck delivered pizzas to support them and Kurt finished school, writing songs when he could about the pain of being Porcelain and about the love that pulled him away from that life. Puck listened to the songs and lied whenever Kurt asked if he was crying, saying, “They’re so good, babe. So, so good. But I don’t cry.”
Kurt just smiled and kissed the tears away.
Author: pterawaters
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Kurt/Puck, Sandy Ryerson
Genre: Angst
Warnings: non-con, child abuse, underage prostitution, implied murder
Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: Glee is not mine, at all
Words: 2K
Author’s Note: Written in response to this prompt by superninjagurl. Sorry it’s so short. I can’t write long angst. I don’t have it in me.
Summary: Porcelain has lost count of how many times he has been sold as a virgin.
Kurt couldn't remember how many times Porcelain's virginity had been bought and sold before he went away. He lost track somewhere around thirty, at least a few months before the last "deflowering".
Kurt lost his virginity in a dark room where he was promised a new life and found it, but it wasn't like he'd been hoping for when the social worker told him they'd found a placement.
"It'll be okay," the lady with the red hair and the wide eyes promised him, a light hand on his shoulder. "Mr. Ryerson has another foster son named Noah. I'm sure he'll look out for you."
Kurt sneered at the painted-pink house and held back his tears. They were worthless anyway. His parents were gone, his aunt was in rehab or something. Mr. Ryerson with his pink house and his kitten-shaped lawn ornaments was the only person who would take him in. The doorbell Miss Pillsbury rang was cheery enough, but Kurt was still scared.
An older boy wearing sweats and a tank top, a lit cigarette perched between his fingers, opened the door. "Hey, Miss P," he greeted the social worker. "Who's this?"
Frowning at the cigarette, the woman replied, "This is your new foster brother, Kurt Hummel! Kurt, this is Noah. Mr. Ryerson adopted him a few years ago."
Kurt nodded, but found he had nothing worthwhile to say.
"Cool," Noah nodded, taking a drag from his cigarette. "C'mon in. Can already tell Sandy's gonna love you."
Something in the boy's voice made Kurt shudder, but he had no where left to go, so he let Miss Pillsbury push him through the door. She waved and left, saying, "I'll check on you in a few days!"
Turning to Noah, Kurt asked, "Where is Mr. Ryerson?"
"Out," he replied, leading the way back toward a cheap, but well maintained living room. "He'll be back soon."
"Shouldn't you be in school?"
Noah laughed and flopped down in a wide armchair. "Got my GED a few months ago. Don't need school."
Kurt sighed and set his suitcase down at his feet, moving to sit on the couch. Noah watched TV and Kurt watched Noah, wondering why he was at home all day instead of in college or working or something. "You have a job, Noah?" he asked.
"Yeah," he replied, stubbing out his cigarette and checking his watch. "Speaking of, I gotta go. Kitchen's that way. Make yourself, you know, at home. Whatever. Oh, and call me Puck."
"Sure," Kurt nodded, watching as Puck grabbed a set of keys from near the doorway and left, still clad in what Kurt considered pajamas.
Kurt poked around the house, finding Puck's room right away and then Mr. Ryerson's. He wondered if he'd be allowed the sunny guest bedroom, but he didn't want to assume.
At least one and a half episodes of "What not to wear" later, Kurt met his new foster parent, disliking instantly the man's preppy-wannabe clothes and his nasally voice. "So you're Kurt? Welcome!"
Kurt thought everything was fine until night fell. “So pretty,” Sandy muttered, brushing a hand over Kurt’s hair and before he could figure out what was going on, Kurt was gagged with his hands tied behind his back and Sandy’s weight holding him down to the rickety twin bed in “his” room. “Shh. Shh. There’s a good boy. It’ll be over soon.” Kurt screamed around his gag but no one came to help him, letting him choke on his tears as Sandy did things to him and took his virginity.
It didn’t hurt as much as Kurt imagined it would and he wondered what that said about him and his pathetic attempts to fight back.
Maybe an hour after Sandy left him tied by his hands and ankles to the bed, the door opened again and Kurt cried out, thinking he was back for another round. Instead it was that other boy, Noah - Puck - creeping into the room and closing the door softly behind him.
“God, I’m so sorry, man,” the boy sighed, kneeling down beside the bed and reaching for Kurt’s gag. “You’ll keep quiet if I take this out?”
Desperate to get more than a few desperate breaths through the cloth or through his snot-stuffed nose, Kurt nodded. Puck reached for him gently and untied the gag from around his mouth, letting Kurt take a deep breath once he was free of it. Clearing his throat, Kurt whispered, “You have to get me out of here!”
“And go where?” Puck asked cynically. “The police? Yeah, I tried that one already.”
“He’s…?” Kurt sobbed softly. “He’s done this to you?”
Screwing his mouth to one side, Puck shrugged and nodded. “He’s really careful, man. There’s no damage, he uses a condom, he reports you missing right away so he can play the worried father. No way out.”
“Let me try?” Kurt begged, sure that if he told someone, they would have to believe him. “I’ll go to Miss Pillsbury.”
Puck shook his head sadly. “If I let you out, he’ll know it was me. He’ll…” Puck shuddered and Kurt really didn’t want to know what punishment Puck was thinking about. “I’ll untie you, but I can’t let you go.”
“Alright,” Kurt agreed, his limbs aching from their unaccustomed positions. “I promise, Puck.”
When Puck’s fingers grazed the skin of his wrists, Kurt flinched. He couldn’t help it. Every touch burned and reminded him of the violation he’d just endured. Once Puck was done untying his ankles, Kurt curled in on himself, holding his legs close to his chest as he cried. What he wouldn’t give for his parents to be alive again, for this all to be a bad dream.
“I know,” Puck whispered, sitting next to him and holding out his arm like an offer, but carefully not touching Kurt unbidden. “I know, dude.”
“How long?” Kurt asked, shifting a little closer to the warm boy, wondering if he could take the comfort offered. “How long have you been with him?”
“Six years,” Puck replied. “Three more months until I’m old enough to leave for good.”
Kurt shook his head and fell into Puck’s embrace, not wanting to think about a day when he might be left here alone with his new foster father. “How can you stand it?”
Puck shrugged around him and pressed his cheek against Kurt’s hair. “Don’t really remember what it was like before.”
**88**
The next day, Kurt learned that Sandy set up “meetings” for Puck and expected him to hand over the money when he came home. When they were alone in the kitchen, Kurt asked Puck, “What do you do at these meetings?”
“Have sex,” Puck replied, handing Kurt a dish to dry.
“You’re a prostitute?”
Closing his eyes and leaning forward against the sink, Puck muttered, mostly to himself, Kurt thought, “Three more months.”
**88**
A week later, Sandy picked Kurt up after school (like he always did) and drove him in the opposite direction from the pink house, saying, “You’ll cooperate for me, won’t you Porcelain? You’ll let my friend do what he’s paying to do - take your virginity.”
“But you-” Kurt protested, watching the world fly by and wondering what would happen if he just jumped out of the car.
“I did no such thing,” Sandy insisted with a silly grin that made Kurt shudder. “And you’re going to cooperate, aren’t you? I’ve got a lot of money riding on this.”
“If I don’t…” Kurt posed, toying with the idea of reaching up to grab the door handle, wondering exactly how quickly he could get unbuckled and out the door. The only thing stopping him was the certainty that Sandy would just have the cops find him and return him “home” as they had when he ran away from school the first day he went.
“If you don’t,” Sandy said, his voice cheerful, “it’s the box again, young man. You know, you’re almost as bad at discipline as Noah was.”
Kurt scoffed.
Sandy’s friend had cigarette breath and wiry chest and belly hair. He seemed to like the fact that Porcelain cried.
**88**
Kurt tried to squirrel away evidence that Sandy was pimping him out, but the man found his stash and locked Kurt in the tight, cramped hallway closet overnight. It was so dark and there were so many noises from the house around him and there was no room to sit between a stack of boots and the vacuum cleaner. Kurt started hallucinating and passed out, knocking his head against the closet door.
When his teacher asked what happened, Kurt told her. When the man came to pick Kurt up, he saw Sandy pass an envelope to the teacher. No one brought it up again.
**88**
The second man Porcelain gave his “virginity” to had salt-and-pepper hair and glasses that he set aside before bending him over the arm of a leather sofa. It hurt more than the man before, but only just. There was still no proof and Kurt was sure his sexuality would be used against him if he tried to complain again. Sandy would say he tried to keep Kurt on the straight and narrow, but Kurt was determined to live a homosexual lifestyle.
Sandy had a girlfriend who seemed more than a little touched in the head. Her name was Brenda and she pinched Kurt’s cheeks and asked him about school. When Kurt told her Sandy was a bad man she laughed and said, “Such a sense of humor!”
**88**
Three months and eighteen virginities in, Puck stopped coming home. Kurt saw more “friends” of Sandy’s to make up for the difference. One day, after just getting off the phone, Sandy frowned at Kurt and said, “You just won’t do for my female friends, now will you? Too skinny and boyish. If the virginity angle wasn’t so lucrative, we might have changed that.”
Kurt fantasized about killing Sandy with a kitchen knife, before he realized that prison wouldn’t be any better for a boy like him.
**88**
Six months and more than thirty virginities later, Puck came back. He was very thin, his lips cracking and his eyes bloodshot. “Oh, Noah,” Sandy said, pulling the young man into a hug that Kurt hated witnessing. “Just couldn’t make it on your own, could you?”
“No,” Puck rasped, winking at Kurt over Sandy’s shoulder. Kurt refused to get his hopes up.
**88**
Two virginities later, Sandy Ryerson died of a heart attack. At least, that’s what the coroner said. Kurt was sure Puck had something to do with it, but he kept his mouth shut. When Miss Pillsbury came to collect Kurt, Puck asked, “Can I take him? I’m eighteen now and he’s kinda like the little brother I never had.”
“We’ll see,” the social worker nodded, her smile bright and yet sad, like she was sure Kurt would be mourning his foster father’s death. Kurt wanted to dance on the man’s grave and it hadn’t even been dug yet.
**88**
Porcelain died with Sandy Ryerson. Kurt revised his history and lost his virginity to Puck on a lazy Saturday afternoon after they’d been living together for almost a year. Puck delivered pizzas to support them and Kurt finished school, writing songs when he could about the pain of being Porcelain and about the love that pulled him away from that life. Puck listened to the songs and lied whenever Kurt asked if he was crying, saying, “They’re so good, babe. So, so good. But I don’t cry.”
Kurt just smiled and kissed the tears away.