retaliation!fic
again. Because what do I do when people's opinions on Tumblr make me upset? I write fic that completely counteracts everything they have to say. Nyah nyah. I am so mature.
Title: Being the Princess
Rating: Rish
Spoilers: Never Been Kissed I guess
Warnings: light boytouchings and slight author soapboxing
Word Count: 1220
Summary: Kurt remembers when he thought he was in love with Finn Hudson. But now, he's making new memories.
It makes Kurt laugh, just a little - not because it's funny, of course, or maybe because it's funny but funny-weird and not funny-hilarious - to remember back to when he thought he was in love with Finn Hudson. Remember back, that's funny too, as if it hadn't been just as recently as a semester and a half ago, as if he doesn't know his own father's wedding anniversary (and probably better than his father does himself). Kurt thinks about it and it seems a world away. But he remembers.
And in hindsight he knows exactly where Finn-crush-Kurt was coming from. Before coming out of the closet and coming into himself Kurt remembers feeling very small. (And he was, too, he's definitely grown a couple inches since then.) He wanted nothing more than to curl in on himself, flatten into a wall, become invisible at will and only fly his happy freak flag when it was actually worth something. And there Finn was, broad and tall and kind of...nice, even when he was being a jerk, a nice jerk. He was so easy to dress up in shining armor, if you bore always in mind that stereotype of the heroic knight as being something of a bumbling, oafish savior, who could get everything done with his willpower and musclepower as long as he was supplemented by the princess's biting wit. (Kurt lets himself be the princess in this scenario. It's no big deal.) Kurt remembers thinking, so much, that he needed that, loved that, the notion of being an exotic hothouse plant in need of protection from someone big and strong and solid.
But fresher, sharper, nastier in Kurt's memory is Dave Karofsky. And Kurt remembers seeing, oh so very first-hand, how quickly big and strong and solid could turn into looming and forceful and unmovable. Size and strength were all well and good when they were on your side, when it was the flashy knight you were dealing with. But size and strength were also the advantages of the ogre. And Kurt still wants, to this day, nothing more than to erase the moments he spent with him in that locker room, not even from his own memories so much as from time itself. Finn was his brother. Karofsky was his worst nightmare. Suddenly he wasn't exactly looking for a big strong hero.
Suddenly he was falling in love with a guy who came about up to his eyebrows.
Kurt wakes up with a sharp inhale and his senses become almost completely clouded with the warm, thick scent of his boyfriend. It's an incredible sensation, one he doesn't think will ever lose its charm and wonder, everything so clear and honest and undiluted. As he regains his wits he finds himself wrapped up in Blaine, the big spoon, cupped around his back with an arm slung loose but deliberate around his slim waist, face buried in the back of his hair, knees crooked together. It feels absolutely perfect; they really do fit together like missing puzzle pieces, don't they? It's enough to have him giggling into the back of Blaine's neck, and the reverberations and sloppy gusts of air are apparently enough to wake him up, and he stirs a little in Kurt's arms. Like Kurt, though, he doesn't make any effort to shift away. They're trapped warm and snug-close against each other, and the sweet little noise Blaine makes as he blinks himself awake probably shouldn't be as sexy as it is. Oh, but it is.
"What's so funny," he says groggily.
Kurt grins stupidly. "This," he says, "you. Us."
"We're funny?"
"Not like funny-hilarious," says Kurt. "Like funny-weird. Like funny-incredible that we would even be here in the first place."
Kurt can practically feel the lazy smile stretch across Blaine's face, and Kurt nuzzles further into the crook of his neck and shoulder, the arm over his waist shifting a little so his hand can slip up inside of Blaine's pajama shirt and stroke circles across his belly.
"Yeah," Blaine says finally. "Mmm, yeah."
"I was just - thinking, about how this is kind of so perfect I can't stand it," Kurt continues. "How I always thought I wanted some big strong shining-armor type but how I actually can't really stand the thought of not being able to fit against you like this." He shifts a little against Blaine, pressing them as flush together as he can.
"Mmmmm, Kurt," says Blaine, soft and sleepy and sexy, and he shifts back, too, nestling them so tight together that Kurt's rise-n-shine teenage hormones can't really handle it. He feels himself hardening at the tight curve of Blaine's ass through their underwear, and now Blaine's chuckling at him this time, and Kurt can't even manage to care.
"I love this," he says (and it's not quite Those Three Words, not yet, but Kurt can feel them coming, any day now, they'll tumble from his lips and he'll never get them back but he won't even want to). "How we fit like this. I love waking each other up, I love singing and dancing on stage with you in front of everyone and neither of us has to be the girl - I love how you can sit on my lap when we're making out, and I just...feel the weight of you, holding me exactly where I need to be." Kurt realizes he's kind of trailing off, staring over Blaine's shoulder into space at the sliver of sky exposed through his curtains. He gives himself a mental shake to snap out of it. "Some big ignoramus tries to sit on me so I can stick my tongue down his throat and he'll probably squash the parts of me I'm gonna wanna use later."
Blaine laughs outright at that, curling tighter in on himself to unkink his sleep-stiff legs and taking Kurt with him, clutching closer and closer, shifting against Kurt's half-hard cock on purpose now. "Your pillow talk is fascinating."
"I try."
"Hmm," says Blaine, pitch-perfect exaggerated perplexity, "I can't figure out if I want to keep snuggling and drift back to sleep just like this or if I really want to twist over and suck your cock. Decisions."
"Oh," says Kurt, "well you're no help."
"What now?"
"It's just that I was having the same dilemma," Kurt whispers, right into his ear, breathing hot and heavy on purpose, just because he can. "And I was hoping you'd help me come to some sort of conclusion."
They don't move for a while, Kurt completely plastered around his boyfriend, heat and lazy lust and just the little bit of sweat sticking them gloriously together. But they don't fall back asleep either. Kurt sucks tender kisses across the back of Blaine's neck, and Blaine slips his hand overtop of Kurt's against the skin of his stomach. His fingers are squarer, sturdier, but just that smallest bit shorter than Kurt's, and Kurt suddenly feels very big, not like some hero or ogre but like he holds something very precious against him, and at the same time like both of them could burst out into the world together, a force to be reckoned with, one hundred percent larger than life. (Like he's not the princess in this scenario. Like he means something; like he can get shit done.)
Blaine rolls into him, grinning wickedly. Blaine gives him exactly what he needs.
Kurt makes some new memories.
Title: Being the Princess
Rating: Rish
Spoilers: Never Been Kissed I guess
Warnings: light boytouchings and slight author soapboxing
Word Count: 1220
Summary: Kurt remembers when he thought he was in love with Finn Hudson. But now, he's making new memories.
It makes Kurt laugh, just a little - not because it's funny, of course, or maybe because it's funny but funny-weird and not funny-hilarious - to remember back to when he thought he was in love with Finn Hudson. Remember back, that's funny too, as if it hadn't been just as recently as a semester and a half ago, as if he doesn't know his own father's wedding anniversary (and probably better than his father does himself). Kurt thinks about it and it seems a world away. But he remembers.
And in hindsight he knows exactly where Finn-crush-Kurt was coming from. Before coming out of the closet and coming into himself Kurt remembers feeling very small. (And he was, too, he's definitely grown a couple inches since then.) He wanted nothing more than to curl in on himself, flatten into a wall, become invisible at will and only fly his happy freak flag when it was actually worth something. And there Finn was, broad and tall and kind of...nice, even when he was being a jerk, a nice jerk. He was so easy to dress up in shining armor, if you bore always in mind that stereotype of the heroic knight as being something of a bumbling, oafish savior, who could get everything done with his willpower and musclepower as long as he was supplemented by the princess's biting wit. (Kurt lets himself be the princess in this scenario. It's no big deal.) Kurt remembers thinking, so much, that he needed that, loved that, the notion of being an exotic hothouse plant in need of protection from someone big and strong and solid.
But fresher, sharper, nastier in Kurt's memory is Dave Karofsky. And Kurt remembers seeing, oh so very first-hand, how quickly big and strong and solid could turn into looming and forceful and unmovable. Size and strength were all well and good when they were on your side, when it was the flashy knight you were dealing with. But size and strength were also the advantages of the ogre. And Kurt still wants, to this day, nothing more than to erase the moments he spent with him in that locker room, not even from his own memories so much as from time itself. Finn was his brother. Karofsky was his worst nightmare. Suddenly he wasn't exactly looking for a big strong hero.
Suddenly he was falling in love with a guy who came about up to his eyebrows.
Kurt wakes up with a sharp inhale and his senses become almost completely clouded with the warm, thick scent of his boyfriend. It's an incredible sensation, one he doesn't think will ever lose its charm and wonder, everything so clear and honest and undiluted. As he regains his wits he finds himself wrapped up in Blaine, the big spoon, cupped around his back with an arm slung loose but deliberate around his slim waist, face buried in the back of his hair, knees crooked together. It feels absolutely perfect; they really do fit together like missing puzzle pieces, don't they? It's enough to have him giggling into the back of Blaine's neck, and the reverberations and sloppy gusts of air are apparently enough to wake him up, and he stirs a little in Kurt's arms. Like Kurt, though, he doesn't make any effort to shift away. They're trapped warm and snug-close against each other, and the sweet little noise Blaine makes as he blinks himself awake probably shouldn't be as sexy as it is. Oh, but it is.
"What's so funny," he says groggily.
Kurt grins stupidly. "This," he says, "you. Us."
"We're funny?"
"Not like funny-hilarious," says Kurt. "Like funny-weird. Like funny-incredible that we would even be here in the first place."
Kurt can practically feel the lazy smile stretch across Blaine's face, and Kurt nuzzles further into the crook of his neck and shoulder, the arm over his waist shifting a little so his hand can slip up inside of Blaine's pajama shirt and stroke circles across his belly.
"Yeah," Blaine says finally. "Mmm, yeah."
"I was just - thinking, about how this is kind of so perfect I can't stand it," Kurt continues. "How I always thought I wanted some big strong shining-armor type but how I actually can't really stand the thought of not being able to fit against you like this." He shifts a little against Blaine, pressing them as flush together as he can.
"Mmmmm, Kurt," says Blaine, soft and sleepy and sexy, and he shifts back, too, nestling them so tight together that Kurt's rise-n-shine teenage hormones can't really handle it. He feels himself hardening at the tight curve of Blaine's ass through their underwear, and now Blaine's chuckling at him this time, and Kurt can't even manage to care.
"I love this," he says (and it's not quite Those Three Words, not yet, but Kurt can feel them coming, any day now, they'll tumble from his lips and he'll never get them back but he won't even want to). "How we fit like this. I love waking each other up, I love singing and dancing on stage with you in front of everyone and neither of us has to be the girl - I love how you can sit on my lap when we're making out, and I just...feel the weight of you, holding me exactly where I need to be." Kurt realizes he's kind of trailing off, staring over Blaine's shoulder into space at the sliver of sky exposed through his curtains. He gives himself a mental shake to snap out of it. "Some big ignoramus tries to sit on me so I can stick my tongue down his throat and he'll probably squash the parts of me I'm gonna wanna use later."
Blaine laughs outright at that, curling tighter in on himself to unkink his sleep-stiff legs and taking Kurt with him, clutching closer and closer, shifting against Kurt's half-hard cock on purpose now. "Your pillow talk is fascinating."
"I try."
"Hmm," says Blaine, pitch-perfect exaggerated perplexity, "I can't figure out if I want to keep snuggling and drift back to sleep just like this or if I really want to twist over and suck your cock. Decisions."
"Oh," says Kurt, "well you're no help."
"What now?"
"It's just that I was having the same dilemma," Kurt whispers, right into his ear, breathing hot and heavy on purpose, just because he can. "And I was hoping you'd help me come to some sort of conclusion."
They don't move for a while, Kurt completely plastered around his boyfriend, heat and lazy lust and just the little bit of sweat sticking them gloriously together. But they don't fall back asleep either. Kurt sucks tender kisses across the back of Blaine's neck, and Blaine slips his hand overtop of Kurt's against the skin of his stomach. His fingers are squarer, sturdier, but just that smallest bit shorter than Kurt's, and Kurt suddenly feels very big, not like some hero or ogre but like he holds something very precious against him, and at the same time like both of them could burst out into the world together, a force to be reckoned with, one hundred percent larger than life. (Like he's not the princess in this scenario. Like he means something; like he can get shit done.)
Blaine rolls into him, grinning wickedly. Blaine gives him exactly what he needs.
Kurt makes some new memories.