fic post.. aka: WHY GOD, WHY?
uh, ahem.
Title: Go 'Head, Get Down
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Santana/Kurt, mentions of Kurt/Finn
Rating: R
Excuses: written for the porn battle, for the prompts of practice and experiment. I.. don't even know how this happened. The first time I write het sex (..mostly), and it involves a canon gay character. Because I am JUST. THAT. SPECIAL. the amazing title was suggested by Leenzie, so you know. She also betaed. :D
Ifffff you'd rather read it at the actual battle, it is (unbetaed, and) here.
*
The only reason she cared was because she couldn't have him. It wasn't like she was actually attracted to him like, at all, because his hair was kind of ridiculous and his face was like a twelve year old's. And no matter what Coach Sylvester made them do to model Madonna, Santana Lopez was not into the prepubescent look.
It totally wouldn't have mattered, anyway. He was as gay as all of those stupid phrases people used when they were talking about how gay people were, and Santana was hot. She could, and did, get anyone she wanted, and even some she didn't.
But then he had to go and make out with Brittany. Brittany, who was a girl, who looked very much like a girl, unlike, like, Rachel Berry. Even that wouldn't have been that big a deal, except when Santana jokingly commented that she was next in line, he had shuddered and used too many words to say something that basically translated into no way in hell.
As if she could let it end there.
So what if, now that she got him alone and cornered in his very own bedroom (she had insisted on meeting for an important Cheerios discussion), he looked terrified? That was a look she got a lot. It usually turned her on.
"You're not going to hurt me, are you?" he asked as she moved closer.
"Only if that's what you like."
The deer-in-headlights expression on his face told her it probably wasn't. Whatever. He was probably a virgin, anyway, which just made this more fun.
"You're a virgin, right?" She didn't wait for an answer before she was running her hands up his chest, tugging the scarf around his neck loose. "I can help you out with that so you're more experienced for whatever guys you meet later. It's like practice."
It was totally nice of her.
After some sputtering, Kurt said, "That's very...kind of you to offer, Santana, but as you may have noticed, I'm only interested in those hypothetical guys. I'm just not that into you."
Santana rolled her eyes as she wrapped the scarf around her own neck, waving off his protests. "Well, duh. I'm not Brittany and I'm not secretly crushing on you. You're so not even hot."
"Thank you for that. Regardless, I'm glad you see the logic here, and I have things to do, so--"
"That doesn't mean we can't have some fun," she interrupted.
Kurt's mouth snapped shut and he gave her a look that probably meant he thought she was crazy, but she chose to take it as curiosity. "That's actually exactly what it means. I'm sure you didn't pay attention in biology or any sexual education classes that might have mentioned it, but you can easily go to Google and--"
Interrupting again, and ignoring Kurt's glare, she said, "Look, I know you're not into--" she swept a hand up and down her own body, "--this, but I do know what dicks like."
She took advantage of Kurt's comical horror at her using that word about his and shoved him towards the bed until he was sitting on it. Normally, she would have crawled right into his lap, but the sight of her chest so close to his face would probably send him screaming from the room. Instead, she kneed her way onto the bed and behind him, resting her chin on his shoulder as she circled both arms around him.
He was so tense. It was kind of adorable.
"Just close your eyes and pretend I'm a guy," she started, one hand slowly sliding downward. Kurt's hand stopped her; she rolled her eyes.
"I'm afraid that's impossible. See my earlier statement about biology." It was kind of amusing how he could sound all scathing and scared at the same time.
"God, don't you have any imagination? I know you must have lame romantic fantasies that get you hard. Don't you, like, have a crush on Finn or something?"
He squeaked at that, which was hilarious. "What on earth would possibly give you that idea?"
"Um, I have eyes. You stare at him like a lovesick girl planning her wedding."
"Is that supposed to be convincing me to do this?" He tried to break away, make a run for it, but she just squeezed her arms tighter.
"Come on, just try it! It's like an experiment. People do that all the time." This time she managed to get her hand lower, resting on his stomach. "Pretend I'm Finn. Close your eyes and think about whatever it is you think about him, and I promise I won't try anything."
The sound Kurt made showed how much he believed that, but he fell silent, and when Santana checked, his eyes were shut. Perfect.
She killed some time singing to herself, careful not to move much in case it startled Kurt. His back was kind of comfortable, probably thanks to the ridiculous sweater he was wearing.
Hoping he was actually thinking about Finn or whatever guy he was lusting after (it was totally Finn), she took a chance. Her hand dipped down, brushed over his crotch and--there it was, the sharp intake of breath that said he was actually getting into it. She took it a step further, added more pressure when she repeated the movement and yes, yes, he was getting hard under her hand and she was awesome. She was like a goddess or something.
Now for the risky part. Her voice low, she said, "I can tell you what he's like in bed."
It was possible that he wouldn't welcome the reminder that she and Finn had had sex, and would flounce off. It was also possible that he would react the way she was hoping, which was with a tiny whimper and even tinier jerk of his hips.
This was so happening.
"He was clumsy--duh, but it was kinda cute. He has really nice hands, and he touched me like he's never even touched a girl before. Of course, knowing Quinn..." She trailed off, letting the statement speak for itself. Besides, she didn't want to talk too much about Finn and girls, since that was probably the opposite of what Kurt wanted to hear.
She dragged her free hand down to meet the other, fingers popping open the button of his stupidly tight pants. He was so gay. She could feel him tense again, but she was quick to work the zipper and then her hand was there, wrapped loosely around his dick. Even if he started like a scared rabbit now, it had gone far enough that she could totally call this a win.
His eyes were still shut tight, and it seemed like he was biting back the urge to make any sort of noise, like he had to be poised and perfect at every moment. Santana almost laughed.
"His hands are kinda callused from drumming--" not as much as Puck's fingers, which she missed right about now, but. "--which feels amazing on your inner thigh. I bet you wanna hear about his dick, right? How big it is, what it felt like sliding in--oh, what it felt like in my hand--"
As she kept on, more and more little moans and gasps escaped him, and she found that she was super into it, too; heat gathering low and making her have to work against pressing herself against Kurt's back. Usually she wouldn't be so selfless, but this was like a personal challenge for her now, and there was no way she was walking away without having this to hold over his head later.
"He's a pretty good kisser, too," she said a little breathlessly, her hand speeding up. "He--he tried to make it romantic, kissed me right before he came."
Kurt made a strangled sort of sound, louder than the rest, and Santana couldn't take it anymore. She didn't let her hand falter as she finally moved from her spot behind him to beside him, gaze fixed on his face to make sure he wasn't about to open his eyes and notice what she was about to do. Total flamer or not, a mouth was a mouth, and there hers was, lips around the head of his dick, determined to get him off so she could take care of herself.
It was cute, the way he tried not to say Finn's name when he came.
He was barely done before Santana was sitting up and, feeling way proud of herself, brought her hand under her skirt. Kurt flopped back to lie on the mattress, probably unaware of Santana's actions. She pressed the pads of her fingers against the cloth between her thighs, damp heat just begging for skin on skin, but she was in a hurry. She just had an itch to scratch for now, and anything better could wait.
A moment later, his breath apparently back, Kurt glanced at her and it was like all of his blood went rushing back upwards to his face. He scrambled to grab a pillow, set it over his lap, and stared at the ceiling intently.
"Do you have to do that?"
Santana laughed brokenly, fingers moving harder. "You're not the only one who needs to get off--unless you wanna do it for me?"
"Carry on." At least that's what she thought he said; she couldn't be sure, since his face was now buried in his hands. He was just lucky she kept her clothes on, really.
It didn't take long, the friction just this side of too much, and Santana went for it, chased it the way she always did in sex. She was completely unselfconscious when she came, hips bucking against her hand, colorful obscenities spilling from her lips.
She panted, giggling a little at how Kurt had his hands over his ears. She poked him on the shoulder and he cracked one eye open. As if none of that had just happened, she asked, "So. You wanna work on the routine now?"
There was a long moment where Kurt seemed visibly torn, and was probably judging her sanity; then he sighed.
"Fine. I'll get the music, you...wash your hands."
Pleased, Santana went to do just that, her hips swaying. She thought about how she would tell Brittany about what happened; she'd probably want to try for a threesome. Picturing Kurt's expression over that offer, Santana decided she was all for it.
Title: Go 'Head, Get Down
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Santana/Kurt, mentions of Kurt/Finn
Rating: R
Excuses: written for the porn battle, for the prompts of practice and experiment. I.. don't even know how this happened. The first time I write het sex (..mostly), and it involves a canon gay character. Because I am JUST. THAT. SPECIAL. the amazing title was suggested by Leenzie, so you know. She also betaed. :D
Ifffff you'd rather read it at the actual battle, it is (unbetaed, and) here.
*
The only reason she cared was because she couldn't have him. It wasn't like she was actually attracted to him like, at all, because his hair was kind of ridiculous and his face was like a twelve year old's. And no matter what Coach Sylvester made them do to model Madonna, Santana Lopez was not into the prepubescent look.
It totally wouldn't have mattered, anyway. He was as gay as all of those stupid phrases people used when they were talking about how gay people were, and Santana was hot. She could, and did, get anyone she wanted, and even some she didn't.
But then he had to go and make out with Brittany. Brittany, who was a girl, who looked very much like a girl, unlike, like, Rachel Berry. Even that wouldn't have been that big a deal, except when Santana jokingly commented that she was next in line, he had shuddered and used too many words to say something that basically translated into no way in hell.
As if she could let it end there.
So what if, now that she got him alone and cornered in his very own bedroom (she had insisted on meeting for an important Cheerios discussion), he looked terrified? That was a look she got a lot. It usually turned her on.
"You're not going to hurt me, are you?" he asked as she moved closer.
"Only if that's what you like."
The deer-in-headlights expression on his face told her it probably wasn't. Whatever. He was probably a virgin, anyway, which just made this more fun.
"You're a virgin, right?" She didn't wait for an answer before she was running her hands up his chest, tugging the scarf around his neck loose. "I can help you out with that so you're more experienced for whatever guys you meet later. It's like practice."
It was totally nice of her.
After some sputtering, Kurt said, "That's very...kind of you to offer, Santana, but as you may have noticed, I'm only interested in those hypothetical guys. I'm just not that into you."
Santana rolled her eyes as she wrapped the scarf around her own neck, waving off his protests. "Well, duh. I'm not Brittany and I'm not secretly crushing on you. You're so not even hot."
"Thank you for that. Regardless, I'm glad you see the logic here, and I have things to do, so--"
"That doesn't mean we can't have some fun," she interrupted.
Kurt's mouth snapped shut and he gave her a look that probably meant he thought she was crazy, but she chose to take it as curiosity. "That's actually exactly what it means. I'm sure you didn't pay attention in biology or any sexual education classes that might have mentioned it, but you can easily go to Google and--"
Interrupting again, and ignoring Kurt's glare, she said, "Look, I know you're not into--" she swept a hand up and down her own body, "--this, but I do know what dicks like."
She took advantage of Kurt's comical horror at her using that word about his and shoved him towards the bed until he was sitting on it. Normally, she would have crawled right into his lap, but the sight of her chest so close to his face would probably send him screaming from the room. Instead, she kneed her way onto the bed and behind him, resting her chin on his shoulder as she circled both arms around him.
He was so tense. It was kind of adorable.
"Just close your eyes and pretend I'm a guy," she started, one hand slowly sliding downward. Kurt's hand stopped her; she rolled her eyes.
"I'm afraid that's impossible. See my earlier statement about biology." It was kind of amusing how he could sound all scathing and scared at the same time.
"God, don't you have any imagination? I know you must have lame romantic fantasies that get you hard. Don't you, like, have a crush on Finn or something?"
He squeaked at that, which was hilarious. "What on earth would possibly give you that idea?"
"Um, I have eyes. You stare at him like a lovesick girl planning her wedding."
"Is that supposed to be convincing me to do this?" He tried to break away, make a run for it, but she just squeezed her arms tighter.
"Come on, just try it! It's like an experiment. People do that all the time." This time she managed to get her hand lower, resting on his stomach. "Pretend I'm Finn. Close your eyes and think about whatever it is you think about him, and I promise I won't try anything."
The sound Kurt made showed how much he believed that, but he fell silent, and when Santana checked, his eyes were shut. Perfect.
She killed some time singing to herself, careful not to move much in case it startled Kurt. His back was kind of comfortable, probably thanks to the ridiculous sweater he was wearing.
Hoping he was actually thinking about Finn or whatever guy he was lusting after (it was totally Finn), she took a chance. Her hand dipped down, brushed over his crotch and--there it was, the sharp intake of breath that said he was actually getting into it. She took it a step further, added more pressure when she repeated the movement and yes, yes, he was getting hard under her hand and she was awesome. She was like a goddess or something.
Now for the risky part. Her voice low, she said, "I can tell you what he's like in bed."
It was possible that he wouldn't welcome the reminder that she and Finn had had sex, and would flounce off. It was also possible that he would react the way she was hoping, which was with a tiny whimper and even tinier jerk of his hips.
This was so happening.
"He was clumsy--duh, but it was kinda cute. He has really nice hands, and he touched me like he's never even touched a girl before. Of course, knowing Quinn..." She trailed off, letting the statement speak for itself. Besides, she didn't want to talk too much about Finn and girls, since that was probably the opposite of what Kurt wanted to hear.
She dragged her free hand down to meet the other, fingers popping open the button of his stupidly tight pants. He was so gay. She could feel him tense again, but she was quick to work the zipper and then her hand was there, wrapped loosely around his dick. Even if he started like a scared rabbit now, it had gone far enough that she could totally call this a win.
His eyes were still shut tight, and it seemed like he was biting back the urge to make any sort of noise, like he had to be poised and perfect at every moment. Santana almost laughed.
"His hands are kinda callused from drumming--" not as much as Puck's fingers, which she missed right about now, but. "--which feels amazing on your inner thigh. I bet you wanna hear about his dick, right? How big it is, what it felt like sliding in--oh, what it felt like in my hand--"
As she kept on, more and more little moans and gasps escaped him, and she found that she was super into it, too; heat gathering low and making her have to work against pressing herself against Kurt's back. Usually she wouldn't be so selfless, but this was like a personal challenge for her now, and there was no way she was walking away without having this to hold over his head later.
"He's a pretty good kisser, too," she said a little breathlessly, her hand speeding up. "He--he tried to make it romantic, kissed me right before he came."
Kurt made a strangled sort of sound, louder than the rest, and Santana couldn't take it anymore. She didn't let her hand falter as she finally moved from her spot behind him to beside him, gaze fixed on his face to make sure he wasn't about to open his eyes and notice what she was about to do. Total flamer or not, a mouth was a mouth, and there hers was, lips around the head of his dick, determined to get him off so she could take care of herself.
It was cute, the way he tried not to say Finn's name when he came.
He was barely done before Santana was sitting up and, feeling way proud of herself, brought her hand under her skirt. Kurt flopped back to lie on the mattress, probably unaware of Santana's actions. She pressed the pads of her fingers against the cloth between her thighs, damp heat just begging for skin on skin, but she was in a hurry. She just had an itch to scratch for now, and anything better could wait.
A moment later, his breath apparently back, Kurt glanced at her and it was like all of his blood went rushing back upwards to his face. He scrambled to grab a pillow, set it over his lap, and stared at the ceiling intently.
"Do you have to do that?"
Santana laughed brokenly, fingers moving harder. "You're not the only one who needs to get off--unless you wanna do it for me?"
"Carry on." At least that's what she thought he said; she couldn't be sure, since his face was now buried in his hands. He was just lucky she kept her clothes on, really.
It didn't take long, the friction just this side of too much, and Santana went for it, chased it the way she always did in sex. She was completely unselfconscious when she came, hips bucking against her hand, colorful obscenities spilling from her lips.
She panted, giggling a little at how Kurt had his hands over his ears. She poked him on the shoulder and he cracked one eye open. As if none of that had just happened, she asked, "So. You wanna work on the routine now?"
There was a long moment where Kurt seemed visibly torn, and was probably judging her sanity; then he sighed.
"Fine. I'll get the music, you...wash your hands."
Pleased, Santana went to do just that, her hips swaying. She thought about how she would tell Brittany about what happened; she'd probably want to try for a threesome. Picturing Kurt's expression over that offer, Santana decided she was all for it.