Fic: Love Covers Every Wrong (1/1)
Summary: Basically Father Sam is totally in love with Kurt and having an existential crisis of faith when Kurt shows up and bangs him.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Religious themes, like for instance banging a priest in a church
Note: Title from Proverbs 10:12 (“Hate starts quarrels, but love covers every wrong.”)
Sam pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and stared down at the half-finished homily scattered across his desk, sighing. A few months ago he could have written the entire thing in an hour and a half, but these days it took him the better part of the week to prepare for Sunday. He was listless and distracted, brown hair and long legs and eternal damnation constantly running through his mind.
Sam asked God daily why this was happening - hourly, every minute, every second he asked why He had taken his peace of mind, his deep inner calm and his abiding joy in certainty. Instead he was left with doubt, desperate wanting, a constant feeling of being incomplete, and bright mornings woken into with a shock, hard and shaking to find his own damp sheets beneath his hands instead of smooth skin and pink lips.
He heard a faint knock on the doorframe and he jerked his head up, rubbing his eyes. The nun who put out the candles and tidied the sanctuary at night leaned her head in, asking if she could go. Sam waved her away, nodding distractedly, and settled his head back into his hands. A few moments passed, the ticking of his clock ringing loud in the profound silence. Outside his office in the echoing expanse of the church he heard rain falling as Sister Agnes opened the door and then a faint click as it shut behind her.
For a few minutes he left his head in his hands, eyes closed and breathing slow, trying to find that place within himself where God used to be. Now he could find only Kurt there - Kurt’s eyes, filled with love and need that he always kept perfectly checked, his smiling mouth that asked about Sam’s life, or told a funny story, or spoke anything but the sex that constantly hung heavy in the air, leaving Sam’s muscles strained tight and his breathing always shallow.
It had been exquisite torture, being around Kurt. They had never once acknowledged it, but it had been with them always, like another person in the room. Eventually Kurt had told Sam he wouldn’t be back, his eyes filled with the desperate sadness of what might have been. Sam had nodded, his throat choked too tight for words. Now he spent his nights with the ghost of Kurt in his bed and his days alone with nameless guilt and endless loneliness - Kurt was gone, but God had not returned. Sam didn’t know if He would ever be back.
Sam’s head snapped up as he heard a faint rapping echo through the sanctuary. His eyes flew to the clock. 11:52pm. Who could it possibly be at this hour? A tiny voice inside him supplied an answer he simultaneously dreaded and hoped for more than anything he had ever wanted in his life, and he felt his pulse rise. He stood up, rubbing his palms across his black clerical shirt and knocking the pages of his homily into greater disarray across his desk. He walked carefully through the dark and quiet sanctuary, crossing in front of the altar to the side door behind the confessionals where he could hear the knocking beginning again.
His heart was pounding against his ribcage and his breathing was fast as he reached out with trembling fingers to turn the lock. As soon as it clicked, the knocking stopped. Slowly, Sam swung the door inward, already knowing in his soul what he would find.
Kurt stood in the rain, his hair dripping into his eyes and his shirt sticking to his body. He had no umbrella, no bag - nothing but the clothes on his back. He stared at Sam for a long moment, eyes wide and desperate, and Sam stared back, his heart in his throat. They both knew why.
“Kurt, I can’t-“ he started, and then stopped, breathless and speechless at the open desire in Kurt’s eyes.
Sam reached out slowly into the rain and placed a hand into Kurt’s palm, running it up over his wrist and almost groaning at the contact as he wrapped his fingers tightly around Kurt’s arm and jerked him inside. Letting go reluctantly, Sam clicked the door shut and turned around to face Kurt, pressing himself back against it, terrified.
“Sam, I’m sorry,” started Kurt. “I couldn’t- I wanted to stay away, Sam, but I couldn’t. I can’t. Not until you tell me I have to. “ Kurt’s jaw was set and his chin was up, eyes flashing but full to overflowing. “Tell me I have to. Say the words, Sam,” he demanded, “and you’ll never see me again.”
Sam tried to clutch at the door behind him, his fingernails sliding over hard wood, and squeezed his eyes shut, a tear welling up and sliding out from under one eyelid. He forced them open again and looked into Kurt’s.
“I can’t, Kurt,” he whispered. Kurt stared back for a second, not moving. Sam held his breath, shrinking back against the door although his entire body was humming to be touched. Kurt reached out slowly, like he didn’t want to scare Sam, and gently brushed away the tear. As more welled up and tracked their way down Sam’s cheeks to take its place, Kurt suddenly melted into him, pressing their bodies together and kissing him - almost gently and sweetly enough not to betray his desperation.
Sam froze, his fingers still digging into the wood behind him, eyes wide. He could see the cross above the altar behind the sweep of Kurt’s hair, and although every molecule of his body told him to kiss back, he slid a hand up between their bodies and pushed Kurt back. Shaking his head quickly back and forth, the tears welled faster and he felt his world shifting at the heartbreak in Kurt’s eyes.
Kurt spun quickly, almost running for the door, and before he could even think of hell, or God, or every single thing he had worked for his entire life, Sam was after him, grabbing his wrist, pulling him back shyly. He let go and spread his hands out wide, shrugging helplessly. “I can’t live without you,” he said, simply.
A smile spread sweetly across Kurt’s beautiful face and Sam started to cry again as Kurt pushed him back gently against the door of the nearest confessional, running his hands up Sam’s chest, the insane thrill of simple contact making both of them dizzy. Kurt kissed away the tears on Sam’s cheeks and then kissed his mouth again, running his tongue along Sam’s lower lip and biting down gently.
Sam was terrified and completely unprepared, his fingers reaching out to skim down the sides of Kurt’s body, every one of his senses filled only with Kurt. Kurt pulled away for a minute and looked at Sam, his breathing heavy. “I’m sorry,” gasped Sam. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how-“ he shrugged helplessly again.
Kurt laughed a little hysterically, his eyes shining. “Sam, don’t-“ Kurt began, wiping away more tears. “Don’t apologize. I just want to touch you,” he breathed, and as if to demonstrate, reached out and pulled the white tab from Sam’s collar, unbuttoning Sam’s shirt as Sam stared, trembling, and sliding his hands down Sam’s bare skin to the waist of his pants. He dropped down in front of Sam and Sam squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head to the side and feeling the cold wood of the confessional against his cheek. Kurt looked up at him, the question in his eyes.
Sam thought his rock hard dick answered a least one question, but he knew Kurt was asking something else. He was crying and terrified, but he looked down into Kurt’s eyes and knew it was pointless to keep trying to pretend there was anything he wanted more in the world. He swept his fingers through Kurt’s hair and tucked a piece behind his ear, nodding and smiling through his tears.
Kurt unbuckled his belt with one hand, the other reaching up to skim up Sam’s abs and circle around one of his nipples, and Sam dropped his head back against the confessional again, gasping. Letting Sam’s pants drop, Kurt maneuvered his boxers down over Sam’s erection and looked up again, his eyes dark. Never breaking eye contact, Kurt leaned forward and fitted his lips around the head of Sam’s dick, sliding down as far as he could go before pulling back off and sliding his hand through the slick wetness he had left, all the way to the base.
Sam was terrified and incredibly turned on, almost unable to stop himself from thrusting out into Kurt’s hand. When Kurt saw his hips bow out, he set his lips back over Sam’s dick, twisting his hand around the part he couldn’t reach with his mouth.
“K- Kurt-“ Sam stuttered, tugging at Kurt’s hair and making him groan. “Kurt, stop, I-“ A dusting of pink rose in Sam’s cheeks but he pressed on as Kurt pulled back from Sam’s dick, keeping his hand wrapped around the base. “I want to- I want to touch you, too. I want it to be both of us.”
Kurt looked like he was going to cry, too. “Do you want to-“ he started. “Are you sure?” Sam nodded quickly. “Not here.”
Kurt stood up as Sam pulled up his boxers and pants and tucked his collar tab into a pocket. Sam beckoned for Kurt to follow him into his office and felt the tears rising again when Kurt reached out to take his hand as they walked across in front of the rows and rows of pews. They stepped into the warmly lit room and Sam pulled away, turning to stand against his desk. He forced himself to look up at Kurt and shrugged again, embarrassed and unsure.
Kurt’s eyes were still dark with love, and he came quickly to Sam, running his hands under Sam’s unbuttoned shirt and over his shoulders to push it off. Sam reached out tentatively and pulled apart the first few buttons of Kurt’s shirt before Kurt got impatient, jerking it off over his head and pressing their bare skin together, breathing hard. Kurt kissed up Sam’s neck and around the curve of his jaw, then kissed the corner of his mouth, feeling a tiny smile there. He placed a hand into the dip of Sam’s perfect back, pushing them flush together over the desk and feeling his dick pressing into Sam’s as he ground down against him and kissed him hungrily, sucking on his full bottom lip.
Sam pushed them back up and ran his hands into Kurt’s hair, pulling him close and kissing him deeply, slowly, with infinite sweetness, his heart almost breaking. He self-consciously pushed his already-undone pants and boxers back down and leaned back on the desk, his blush burning hot again and his erection painful. Kurt hastened to push off his own pants and underwear and came back to Sam, nudging his knees apart and sliding between his legs, gasping at the contact and unable to stop himself from thrusting his erection into the joint of Sam’s thigh and up against Sam’s own dick.
He smiled at Sam, ghosting his fingers up his chest to touch his cheek gently. “I love you,” he said. “I will always love you.” Sam’s tears were already spilling over when he pulled Kurt back down to him, whispering his love back against his lips. After a moment, Kurt leaned back a little and pressed two fingers to Sam’s beautiful bottom lip. Sam looked at Kurt, his eyes wide with confusion. “Suck on them,” said Kurt. “Just trust me.” Shyly, Sam leaned back in and sucked Kurt’s fingers between his lips, the feeling of his warm mouth unhinging Kurt and making him groan.
When they were slick and slipping against each other, Kurt pulled his fingers out, a thread of spit hanging for a moment between his fingertips and Sam’s mouth, and then pushed Sam gently back onto the desk. “Are you ready?” he asked quietly. “This is going to hurt a little.” Sam looked scared, but nodded, his hand slipping unconsciously down over his own dick as he stared at Kurt naked for the first time ever after dreaming of it every day for months now.
Wrapping his other arm under Sam’s thigh, Kurt slowly pushed a finger into him and Sam gasped, his brow furrowing and a small whine of pain escaping his lips. Kurt moved slowly, slipping in another finger when he could and muttering apologies as Sam murmured small quiet noises of discomfort. It did hurt, his body stretching and burning as Kurt pressed into him, but being like this with Kurt, so close that Kurt was inside of him, was something so perfect that he didn’t care.
Eventually Sam felt Kurt start to crook his long elegant fingers inside of him, and he didn’t understand why until Kurt found his goal on the third or fourth try and Sam’s vision blurred as white hot pleasure shot up into his abdomen. His dick was immediately as hard as before, despite the pain, and he started to rock down onto Kurt’s fingers, trying to help him find that spot again.
Kurt pulled his fingers out long before Sam wanted him to and Sam almost cried out with loss. “Please, Kurt,” Sam begged, not even knowing what he was begging for, just panting and reaching out for him, blindly. Kurt knew, though, spitting into his hand and slicking up his dick, the sight of Kurt touching himself almost making Sam cry again with pleasure and frustration. Kurt came back to him as fast as he could, knowing in his heart that there would be opportunities to tease Sam and to make him wait, but that this wasn’t the time, that they desperately needed to be together and that it had to happen now.
Kurt pushed into Sam without preamble, kissing up his neck again and whispering comfort against his ear as Sam winced, his body aching as it stretched around Kurt. “Kurt, please-“ he gasped, “keep- please, keep going,” he said through gritted teeth, his still-hard dick pressed to Kurt’s stomach as Kurt began to move. Slowly, he fucked Sam, Sam’s ragged breath turning from gasps to moans as he adjusted to Kurt inside of him and began to push himself down against Kurt’s thighs, wanting him to feel as much as Sam was, trembling with sensory overload.
Kurt leaned down over Sam’s shaking body, his mouth running up over his chest and sliding up his neck, sucking gently as he thrust harder into him, possessively. The tight burning pain continued, but Sam barely noticed, gasping as stars exploded through his vision every time Kurt’s dick slid in just far enough, like they were designed by God to fit together. Sam was already chanting “yes,” breathlessly long before Kurt bit down on his earlobe and growled into his ear. “Mine,” he said, like a drumbeat. “Mine, mine, mine,” he repeated. “After this, you are mine.” Tears leaked from the corners of Sam’s eyes again as he reached up to feel his hands sliding over Kurt’s beautiful skin. “Yes,” Sam said again. “I’m yours.”
Kurt held Sam’s eyes as he slid into him slickly, the love he saw there making the tears come harder as Kurt refused to let him look away. A hot, red blush burned up Sam’s neck again to his cheeks as his hips involuntarily thrust up to meet Kurt’s over and over. As the tears seeped out slowly Kurt leaned down to kiss them away, whispering “I love you,” softly even as his hips began to rock harder into Sam.
One of Sam’s hands scrabbled back across the desk to gain leverage, the remaining pages of his half-finished homily scattering back across his desk and onto the floor, while the other ran up Kurt’s spine, the pleasure of touching him - of being full of him - almost too much to bear. How could the God he had loved so deeply for so long possibly have made something like this possible and then made something so beautiful wrong?
Sam’s tears of nameless, uncontrollable emotion continued to seep slowly and he began to moan in time as Kurt’s hips rolled up against him. His head fell back, hitting his desk, and he curled both legs around Kurt’s waist, pulling Kurt tighter into him with every thrust. Kurt leaned down to slide his lips into Sam’s, giving him back his own name, sobbed desperately against Sam’s mouth. When Sam whispered his love to Kurt, it felt like a prayer.
Sam could feel pleasure building low in his belly, and he looked up into Kurt’s eyes, his completely dilated pupils making his own into black pools. Kurt stared back, knowing, and he licked over his own palm as Sam watched, completely overwhelmed and never breaking eye contact. Kurt reached down between them as his rhythm began to falter, and Sam was already falling apart as Kurt slid his slick hand down over Sam’s dick, Sam bucking up and pressing against Kurt’s hips, his body shaking. For a moment, there was nothing in the world except Kurt running through his veins and he came hard into Kurt’s hand.
The rhythm of Kurt’s rocking continued to stutter as he sobbed out Sam’s name again and smeared his messy hand up Sam’s stomach and chest. Breath coming in ragged cries, Kurt pushed every inch of his body against Sam’s trembling form and came too, his face pressed under Sam’s jaw and breath finally pouring out in a last moaning gasp of “Sam!”
Breathless and messy, they lay gasping on the desk for a few moments as their heartbeats returned to normal, Kurt’s lips pressed to Sam’s neck and Sam’s fingers stroking through Kurt’s hair. Sam knew there were a thousand things he needed to think about, impossible things to decide and heartbreak to face, but every sense was filled with Kurt and the square inch of skin where Kurt’s lips touched his throat. “I was never going to get that homily finished anyway,” he breathed, pushing the last of the papers off onto the floor as Kurt smiled against his skin.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Religious themes, like for instance banging a priest in a church
Note: Title from Proverbs 10:12 (“Hate starts quarrels, but love covers every wrong.”)
Sam pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and stared down at the half-finished homily scattered across his desk, sighing. A few months ago he could have written the entire thing in an hour and a half, but these days it took him the better part of the week to prepare for Sunday. He was listless and distracted, brown hair and long legs and eternal damnation constantly running through his mind.
Sam asked God daily why this was happening - hourly, every minute, every second he asked why He had taken his peace of mind, his deep inner calm and his abiding joy in certainty. Instead he was left with doubt, desperate wanting, a constant feeling of being incomplete, and bright mornings woken into with a shock, hard and shaking to find his own damp sheets beneath his hands instead of smooth skin and pink lips.
He heard a faint knock on the doorframe and he jerked his head up, rubbing his eyes. The nun who put out the candles and tidied the sanctuary at night leaned her head in, asking if she could go. Sam waved her away, nodding distractedly, and settled his head back into his hands. A few moments passed, the ticking of his clock ringing loud in the profound silence. Outside his office in the echoing expanse of the church he heard rain falling as Sister Agnes opened the door and then a faint click as it shut behind her.
For a few minutes he left his head in his hands, eyes closed and breathing slow, trying to find that place within himself where God used to be. Now he could find only Kurt there - Kurt’s eyes, filled with love and need that he always kept perfectly checked, his smiling mouth that asked about Sam’s life, or told a funny story, or spoke anything but the sex that constantly hung heavy in the air, leaving Sam’s muscles strained tight and his breathing always shallow.
It had been exquisite torture, being around Kurt. They had never once acknowledged it, but it had been with them always, like another person in the room. Eventually Kurt had told Sam he wouldn’t be back, his eyes filled with the desperate sadness of what might have been. Sam had nodded, his throat choked too tight for words. Now he spent his nights with the ghost of Kurt in his bed and his days alone with nameless guilt and endless loneliness - Kurt was gone, but God had not returned. Sam didn’t know if He would ever be back.
Sam’s head snapped up as he heard a faint rapping echo through the sanctuary. His eyes flew to the clock. 11:52pm. Who could it possibly be at this hour? A tiny voice inside him supplied an answer he simultaneously dreaded and hoped for more than anything he had ever wanted in his life, and he felt his pulse rise. He stood up, rubbing his palms across his black clerical shirt and knocking the pages of his homily into greater disarray across his desk. He walked carefully through the dark and quiet sanctuary, crossing in front of the altar to the side door behind the confessionals where he could hear the knocking beginning again.
His heart was pounding against his ribcage and his breathing was fast as he reached out with trembling fingers to turn the lock. As soon as it clicked, the knocking stopped. Slowly, Sam swung the door inward, already knowing in his soul what he would find.
Kurt stood in the rain, his hair dripping into his eyes and his shirt sticking to his body. He had no umbrella, no bag - nothing but the clothes on his back. He stared at Sam for a long moment, eyes wide and desperate, and Sam stared back, his heart in his throat. They both knew why.
“Kurt, I can’t-“ he started, and then stopped, breathless and speechless at the open desire in Kurt’s eyes.
Sam reached out slowly into the rain and placed a hand into Kurt’s palm, running it up over his wrist and almost groaning at the contact as he wrapped his fingers tightly around Kurt’s arm and jerked him inside. Letting go reluctantly, Sam clicked the door shut and turned around to face Kurt, pressing himself back against it, terrified.
“Sam, I’m sorry,” started Kurt. “I couldn’t- I wanted to stay away, Sam, but I couldn’t. I can’t. Not until you tell me I have to. “ Kurt’s jaw was set and his chin was up, eyes flashing but full to overflowing. “Tell me I have to. Say the words, Sam,” he demanded, “and you’ll never see me again.”
Sam tried to clutch at the door behind him, his fingernails sliding over hard wood, and squeezed his eyes shut, a tear welling up and sliding out from under one eyelid. He forced them open again and looked into Kurt’s.
“I can’t, Kurt,” he whispered. Kurt stared back for a second, not moving. Sam held his breath, shrinking back against the door although his entire body was humming to be touched. Kurt reached out slowly, like he didn’t want to scare Sam, and gently brushed away the tear. As more welled up and tracked their way down Sam’s cheeks to take its place, Kurt suddenly melted into him, pressing their bodies together and kissing him - almost gently and sweetly enough not to betray his desperation.
Sam froze, his fingers still digging into the wood behind him, eyes wide. He could see the cross above the altar behind the sweep of Kurt’s hair, and although every molecule of his body told him to kiss back, he slid a hand up between their bodies and pushed Kurt back. Shaking his head quickly back and forth, the tears welled faster and he felt his world shifting at the heartbreak in Kurt’s eyes.
Kurt spun quickly, almost running for the door, and before he could even think of hell, or God, or every single thing he had worked for his entire life, Sam was after him, grabbing his wrist, pulling him back shyly. He let go and spread his hands out wide, shrugging helplessly. “I can’t live without you,” he said, simply.
A smile spread sweetly across Kurt’s beautiful face and Sam started to cry again as Kurt pushed him back gently against the door of the nearest confessional, running his hands up Sam’s chest, the insane thrill of simple contact making both of them dizzy. Kurt kissed away the tears on Sam’s cheeks and then kissed his mouth again, running his tongue along Sam’s lower lip and biting down gently.
Sam was terrified and completely unprepared, his fingers reaching out to skim down the sides of Kurt’s body, every one of his senses filled only with Kurt. Kurt pulled away for a minute and looked at Sam, his breathing heavy. “I’m sorry,” gasped Sam. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how-“ he shrugged helplessly again.
Kurt laughed a little hysterically, his eyes shining. “Sam, don’t-“ Kurt began, wiping away more tears. “Don’t apologize. I just want to touch you,” he breathed, and as if to demonstrate, reached out and pulled the white tab from Sam’s collar, unbuttoning Sam’s shirt as Sam stared, trembling, and sliding his hands down Sam’s bare skin to the waist of his pants. He dropped down in front of Sam and Sam squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head to the side and feeling the cold wood of the confessional against his cheek. Kurt looked up at him, the question in his eyes.
Sam thought his rock hard dick answered a least one question, but he knew Kurt was asking something else. He was crying and terrified, but he looked down into Kurt’s eyes and knew it was pointless to keep trying to pretend there was anything he wanted more in the world. He swept his fingers through Kurt’s hair and tucked a piece behind his ear, nodding and smiling through his tears.
Kurt unbuckled his belt with one hand, the other reaching up to skim up Sam’s abs and circle around one of his nipples, and Sam dropped his head back against the confessional again, gasping. Letting Sam’s pants drop, Kurt maneuvered his boxers down over Sam’s erection and looked up again, his eyes dark. Never breaking eye contact, Kurt leaned forward and fitted his lips around the head of Sam’s dick, sliding down as far as he could go before pulling back off and sliding his hand through the slick wetness he had left, all the way to the base.
Sam was terrified and incredibly turned on, almost unable to stop himself from thrusting out into Kurt’s hand. When Kurt saw his hips bow out, he set his lips back over Sam’s dick, twisting his hand around the part he couldn’t reach with his mouth.
“K- Kurt-“ Sam stuttered, tugging at Kurt’s hair and making him groan. “Kurt, stop, I-“ A dusting of pink rose in Sam’s cheeks but he pressed on as Kurt pulled back from Sam’s dick, keeping his hand wrapped around the base. “I want to- I want to touch you, too. I want it to be both of us.”
Kurt looked like he was going to cry, too. “Do you want to-“ he started. “Are you sure?” Sam nodded quickly. “Not here.”
Kurt stood up as Sam pulled up his boxers and pants and tucked his collar tab into a pocket. Sam beckoned for Kurt to follow him into his office and felt the tears rising again when Kurt reached out to take his hand as they walked across in front of the rows and rows of pews. They stepped into the warmly lit room and Sam pulled away, turning to stand against his desk. He forced himself to look up at Kurt and shrugged again, embarrassed and unsure.
Kurt’s eyes were still dark with love, and he came quickly to Sam, running his hands under Sam’s unbuttoned shirt and over his shoulders to push it off. Sam reached out tentatively and pulled apart the first few buttons of Kurt’s shirt before Kurt got impatient, jerking it off over his head and pressing their bare skin together, breathing hard. Kurt kissed up Sam’s neck and around the curve of his jaw, then kissed the corner of his mouth, feeling a tiny smile there. He placed a hand into the dip of Sam’s perfect back, pushing them flush together over the desk and feeling his dick pressing into Sam’s as he ground down against him and kissed him hungrily, sucking on his full bottom lip.
Sam pushed them back up and ran his hands into Kurt’s hair, pulling him close and kissing him deeply, slowly, with infinite sweetness, his heart almost breaking. He self-consciously pushed his already-undone pants and boxers back down and leaned back on the desk, his blush burning hot again and his erection painful. Kurt hastened to push off his own pants and underwear and came back to Sam, nudging his knees apart and sliding between his legs, gasping at the contact and unable to stop himself from thrusting his erection into the joint of Sam’s thigh and up against Sam’s own dick.
He smiled at Sam, ghosting his fingers up his chest to touch his cheek gently. “I love you,” he said. “I will always love you.” Sam’s tears were already spilling over when he pulled Kurt back down to him, whispering his love back against his lips. After a moment, Kurt leaned back a little and pressed two fingers to Sam’s beautiful bottom lip. Sam looked at Kurt, his eyes wide with confusion. “Suck on them,” said Kurt. “Just trust me.” Shyly, Sam leaned back in and sucked Kurt’s fingers between his lips, the feeling of his warm mouth unhinging Kurt and making him groan.
When they were slick and slipping against each other, Kurt pulled his fingers out, a thread of spit hanging for a moment between his fingertips and Sam’s mouth, and then pushed Sam gently back onto the desk. “Are you ready?” he asked quietly. “This is going to hurt a little.” Sam looked scared, but nodded, his hand slipping unconsciously down over his own dick as he stared at Kurt naked for the first time ever after dreaming of it every day for months now.
Wrapping his other arm under Sam’s thigh, Kurt slowly pushed a finger into him and Sam gasped, his brow furrowing and a small whine of pain escaping his lips. Kurt moved slowly, slipping in another finger when he could and muttering apologies as Sam murmured small quiet noises of discomfort. It did hurt, his body stretching and burning as Kurt pressed into him, but being like this with Kurt, so close that Kurt was inside of him, was something so perfect that he didn’t care.
Eventually Sam felt Kurt start to crook his long elegant fingers inside of him, and he didn’t understand why until Kurt found his goal on the third or fourth try and Sam’s vision blurred as white hot pleasure shot up into his abdomen. His dick was immediately as hard as before, despite the pain, and he started to rock down onto Kurt’s fingers, trying to help him find that spot again.
Kurt pulled his fingers out long before Sam wanted him to and Sam almost cried out with loss. “Please, Kurt,” Sam begged, not even knowing what he was begging for, just panting and reaching out for him, blindly. Kurt knew, though, spitting into his hand and slicking up his dick, the sight of Kurt touching himself almost making Sam cry again with pleasure and frustration. Kurt came back to him as fast as he could, knowing in his heart that there would be opportunities to tease Sam and to make him wait, but that this wasn’t the time, that they desperately needed to be together and that it had to happen now.
Kurt pushed into Sam without preamble, kissing up his neck again and whispering comfort against his ear as Sam winced, his body aching as it stretched around Kurt. “Kurt, please-“ he gasped, “keep- please, keep going,” he said through gritted teeth, his still-hard dick pressed to Kurt’s stomach as Kurt began to move. Slowly, he fucked Sam, Sam’s ragged breath turning from gasps to moans as he adjusted to Kurt inside of him and began to push himself down against Kurt’s thighs, wanting him to feel as much as Sam was, trembling with sensory overload.
Kurt leaned down over Sam’s shaking body, his mouth running up over his chest and sliding up his neck, sucking gently as he thrust harder into him, possessively. The tight burning pain continued, but Sam barely noticed, gasping as stars exploded through his vision every time Kurt’s dick slid in just far enough, like they were designed by God to fit together. Sam was already chanting “yes,” breathlessly long before Kurt bit down on his earlobe and growled into his ear. “Mine,” he said, like a drumbeat. “Mine, mine, mine,” he repeated. “After this, you are mine.” Tears leaked from the corners of Sam’s eyes again as he reached up to feel his hands sliding over Kurt’s beautiful skin. “Yes,” Sam said again. “I’m yours.”
Kurt held Sam’s eyes as he slid into him slickly, the love he saw there making the tears come harder as Kurt refused to let him look away. A hot, red blush burned up Sam’s neck again to his cheeks as his hips involuntarily thrust up to meet Kurt’s over and over. As the tears seeped out slowly Kurt leaned down to kiss them away, whispering “I love you,” softly even as his hips began to rock harder into Sam.
One of Sam’s hands scrabbled back across the desk to gain leverage, the remaining pages of his half-finished homily scattering back across his desk and onto the floor, while the other ran up Kurt’s spine, the pleasure of touching him - of being full of him - almost too much to bear. How could the God he had loved so deeply for so long possibly have made something like this possible and then made something so beautiful wrong?
Sam’s tears of nameless, uncontrollable emotion continued to seep slowly and he began to moan in time as Kurt’s hips rolled up against him. His head fell back, hitting his desk, and he curled both legs around Kurt’s waist, pulling Kurt tighter into him with every thrust. Kurt leaned down to slide his lips into Sam’s, giving him back his own name, sobbed desperately against Sam’s mouth. When Sam whispered his love to Kurt, it felt like a prayer.
Sam could feel pleasure building low in his belly, and he looked up into Kurt’s eyes, his completely dilated pupils making his own into black pools. Kurt stared back, knowing, and he licked over his own palm as Sam watched, completely overwhelmed and never breaking eye contact. Kurt reached down between them as his rhythm began to falter, and Sam was already falling apart as Kurt slid his slick hand down over Sam’s dick, Sam bucking up and pressing against Kurt’s hips, his body shaking. For a moment, there was nothing in the world except Kurt running through his veins and he came hard into Kurt’s hand.
The rhythm of Kurt’s rocking continued to stutter as he sobbed out Sam’s name again and smeared his messy hand up Sam’s stomach and chest. Breath coming in ragged cries, Kurt pushed every inch of his body against Sam’s trembling form and came too, his face pressed under Sam’s jaw and breath finally pouring out in a last moaning gasp of “Sam!”
Breathless and messy, they lay gasping on the desk for a few moments as their heartbeats returned to normal, Kurt’s lips pressed to Sam’s neck and Sam’s fingers stroking through Kurt’s hair. Sam knew there were a thousand things he needed to think about, impossible things to decide and heartbreak to face, but every sense was filled with Kurt and the square inch of skin where Kurt’s lips touched his throat. “I was never going to get that homily finished anyway,” he breathed, pushing the last of the papers off onto the floor as Kurt smiled against his skin.