Fallen Angel
Title:The Fallen Angel
Author: pterawaters
Rating: NC-17
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Puck/Kurt, Puck/Kurt/Finn
Genre: AU, wing!fic, one-shot
Warning: prostitution, wings, ooc!Finn
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Glee is not mine, at all.
Word Count: 2250
Author Notes: I wasn’t feeling well today and I was a little depressed, so I wrote this one-shot. I hope you like it.
Summary: When Finn dragged him to see the new whore at Schuester’s, Puck was skeptical and more than a little disinterested, until he saw him - the Fallen Angel.
“Dude,” Finn cried as he crashed into Puck’s apartment, making Puck look up from his guitar. “You have to come see this!”
“See what?” Puck asked, setting his instrument to the side before Finn could flail too much and destroy it like he had the last one.
“There’s this whore-”
Puck sighed, “You’ve been going to Schuester’s again? I thought you and Rachel had patched things up, man. You know you don’t have the money to keep-”
“He’s got this new one,” Finn insisted, ignoring Puck’s misgivings. “Called the Fallen Angel. He’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. C’mon, I’ve got us a reservation with him in, like, twenty.”
“Him?” Puck asked, fairly certain that the last time he’d checked, Finn wasn’t into gay stuff.
Finn nodded, herding Puck out the door. “He’s got these- Well, you’ll see. Totally makes up for him being a dude.”
“And you want me to come with, why?” Puck asked again, barely managing to lock his place up before Finn hustled him down the stairs and out onto the street. “If this whore is so great, why don’t you fuck him and leave me the hell out of it?”
“Reservations with this kid take, like, months to get,” Finn explained. “It was a lucky cancellation that let me get this spot at all. And believe me, with liking the guys you do, you are not going to want to miss this.”
Not for the first time, Puck regretted ever telling Finn he wasn’t straight. He’d thought it would make things with the band less awkward, but now Finn kept wanting to keep all the chicks they met for himself and introduce Puck to dudes. Puck recognized his friend’s somewhat-good intentions, but that didn’t mean his behavior didn’t get frustrating at times.
And then there was Finn’s addiction to the whorehouse. His favorite at the moment was Schuester’s, because the whores were generally younger - late teens and early twenties - and cheaper than at some of the more reputable houses. Puck really didn’t want to be the kind of guy who paid for it, but he’d come on a few occasions when Finn wouldn’t let him beg off.
After a brisk walk to the place, Finn pushed Puck inside, stopping at the hostess’ table (which was manned by a girl wearing just a g-string and a pair of pasties) and saying loudly, “Hey, we have a reservation with the Angel?” Like he was bragging or something. Puck scoffed and tried not to notice how the place smelled like incense to cover up the stench of sex.
Don’t get Puck wrong, he was all about sex, he was a frigging sex-shark. But doing it this way just went against everything he’d been working for lately and left a bad taste in his mouth.
The hostess led them into an antechamber of sorts where the whores sat around chatting. Most of them were female and lovely, though a few were male - either big muscled guys or lithe feminine boys. What drew Puck’s eyes however, was the whore sitting on a step near the center of the room, his side to the door as he spoke with the girl sitting a riser above him. His long limbs, dark brown hair, and snowy-white skin were on full display, as were a giant set of white-feathered wings erupting from his back and moving idly, like they were alive.
So that’s why they called him the Fallen Angel. All Puck could do was stare as the hostess called for him and the boy turned. He looked about sixteen or seventeen, with high cheekbones and a healthy blush below piercing blue eyes. The Angel stood from his perch gracefully, his lean arms and legs toned and lightly muscled, like a dancer’s, and those wings spreading out as he walked toward the center of the room, his blush-colored cock swinging relaxed between his legs.
When he reached Finn, the Angel bowed, his wings snapping out to their full, startlingly wide length before he stood, tucking his wings back in and keeping his head down as he led them both from the room. Puck tried as best he could to study the wings as they walked, but Finn - tall and maddeningly broad - was in his way. They were definitely real, alive and attached to the boy somehow, and Puck wanted nothing more than to reach out and stroke the soft-looking feathers.
He’d always had a little bit of a thing for birds.
Then the Angel led them into one of the many doors lining the hallway that spiraled up and around from the antechamber, showing them into his bedchamber, eyes still on the floor. As he closed the door behind them, Puck couldn’t help but ask, “How did a beautiful creature like you end up here?”
The Angel looked up at Puck, meeting his eyes sadly and was about to open his mouth, when Finn said, “Who gives a fuck? He’s a whore, Puck, not a person, and we don’t have much time.”
Puck held his tongue, knowing he couldn’t change Finn’s mind about whores being real people with real feelings in the span of an afternoon, much less the half-hour Finn had reserved them. Maybe if he knew Puck used to be one of these whorehouse boys, he would change his tune.
Set on his goal now, Finn circled the Angel before grabbing him by the back of the neck and kissing him roughly. Puck didn’t want to get turned on by the sight, but he couldn’t help it. The boy was just so pretty.
Not wanting to just watch, for fear of what Finn might do, Puck approached them, gently running his hands up the Angel’s back and out onto his wings. They were warm and the feathers responded to Puck’s touch with a light ruffling, standing up and then settling back down in his wake. He stroked them a little harder and the Angel moaned into Finn’s mouth, breathing harshly through his nose. It sounded real, so either this boy was well-trained or Puck was actually turning him on.
“Oh, gross,” Finn sighed, giving Puck an angered look over the Angel’s shoulder, “he’s getting hard. Here, let’s switch.” Finn grabbed the Angel by the shoulders and spun him around, ducking under one wing, but hitting Puck in the face with the other. Luckily it was mostly long feathers that trailed up and over his skin, making Puck shiver.
Now that the boy’s face was turned toward him, Puck met his eyes, coming to some sort of understanding with him very quickly. The Angel recognized Puck sympathy for him and nodded, reaching out to take Puck’s hand and bringing it to his cheek in thanks. Unable to help himself, Puck leaned forward and kissed the boy’s red lips, letting his hand slip back around the Angel’s neck as the embrace deepened.
Behind the boy, Finn was panting, kissing his way down the long back and doing something that made the Angel jump, startled. Puck shared a small smile with the boy, because rarely did anything surprise a seasoned whore, and kissed him again, leading him toward the bed as Finn struggled out of his clothes.
“Get him on his hands and knees,” Finn ordered, undoing his pants and stepping out of them. “I get first dibs on that ass.”
The Angel followed orders without Puck’s help, putting himself in the center of the bed, and rustling his wings above him, almost impatiently, though none of that emotion showed on his face.
Puck shed his clothes as well, knowing Finn was right and there was no way he could pass up this opportunity, not with the Fallen Angel watching him with those eyes, at once scared and hungry. Oh, he was good. He was very, very good to have perfected that look. It had taken Puck almost a year, and by the time he could buy his way out of the house, he still wasn’t quite sure he had it down.
Needing to touch those wings again, Puck knelt beside the Angel on the bed, trailing his fingers through the longer feathers and then upward, against the grain. He shivered and Puck watched in awe as the short hairs on the back of the Angel’s neck stood on end. So it was arousing for him to be touched this way.
Puck got in front of the Angel so he could fondle the other wing and gasped when the boy’s mouth came down around his hardening cock unbidden. “Shit,” Puck hissed as the warm heat enveloped him gently, teasing and just barely touching. “Oh, god that’s good.”
“See?” Finn gloated, kneeling behind the boy and taking his own cock in hand, brushing it against the Angel’s hole. “I told you this would-” he gasped a little as he pushed into the boy, making him groan deeply around Puck’s cock, “-be worth it, dude! Oh, shit he’s all warm and wet already, but tight. Fuck!”
Thrusting in deeper, Finn moved his hands from the Angel’s hips to the base of his wings, using them to pull the boy back onto his cock and ignoring the sound of protest he made. Tears in his eyes, the Angel looked up at Puck, almost pleadingly, so Puck tugged on his friend’s fingers and said, “Let go, man! You’re hurting him.”
“What the fuck ever, Puckerman,” Finn panted, building up steam.
“I’m not into pain, Finn,” Puck tried again, having a hard time coming up with what to say while the Angel’s lips were still wrapped around him. “You’re making me lose my boner here!”
“Fine,” Finn allowed, moving his hands back down to the boy’s hips and really going at it, thrusting into him so hard that he had no choice but to bob forward and back on Puck’s dick.
“So beautiful,” Puck found himself saying, threading one of his hands into the Angel’s hair and the other gently through his feathers, wondering if he could get off just by someone fondling his wings. It would be an interesting experiment.
The Angel groaned again, the vibrations of his voice teasing Puck and putting him just on the edge. Before long, Finn howled in release, snapping his hips and grinding deep into the Angel’s ass, making the boy suck harder and bring Puck over the edge as well.
“Fuck, he is good!” Finn smiled, panting as he pulled out and stumbled away. “I can’t say I’d see any other boys,” Finn added as he picked up his underwear from the floor and stepped into them while Puck pulled the Angel up and into a desperate kiss, “but I’m definitely making another reservation with this one. Holy crap!”
Puck tried to tune out his friend as he pulled the Angel’s body against his, hand finding his hard cock and stoking it gently, wanting to make this beautiful creature fall apart and needing to feel that warm release gush over his hand.
Finn seemed to notice this because he cleared his throat and said, “Well, I’m gonna let you finish that. You’ve got a few minutes left...”
Free hand going up to the Angel’s wing, petting and teasing, Puck stroked a little harder and sighed when the Angel came, shuddering against him and almost collapsing down onto the bed. He laid down on his side when Puck allowed it, propping his head up with one hand and meeting Puck’s eyes as the musician licked his fingers clean. Then the Angel smiled and chuckled softly, his voice high and musical, “I thought he’d never leave.”
Puck laughed as well, lying down beside him and stroking a hand over the boy’s hair. “How often to your clients fall in love with you?”
“Only every day,” the whore replied, tracing Puck’s lips with a gentle finger before kissing him. “However, it’s very rare that I fall a little bit in love as well.”
“Yeah,” Puck mused with a satisfied exhale, “I get that a lot.”
The Angel laughed and kissed him again before saying, “My real name is Kurt. If you want, you can come back any day after hours and ask for me by that name.”
“I couldn’t afford your overtime price, Kurt,” Puck sighed sadly, going to get up before Kurt touched his arm to get him to stay.
“Not for money,” Kurt insisted. “Just for me. You’re the only one who’s ever...”
“Who’s ever what?” Puck asked, thinking his time had to be up by now, but not really caring. “Bothered to get you off afterward?”
“Made me feel like a person,” Kurt corrected, kissing Puck again. “Instead of an interesting plaything. I like having that feeling back.”
The lights in the room flashed, telling Puck it was time to wrap things up, so he got out of bed to get dressed, smiling at Kurt after emerging from inside his shirt and promising, “Then I’ll be back whenever I can, Fallen Angel. You’ll think of me in the meantime?”
Kurt spread out his wings and leaned back against his pillows, stretching his full length as he replied, “Always, Mr. Puckerman.”
“Noah,” Puck corrected with a wink, taking in the sight of the Fallen Angel, his Angel, to keep with him as he left Schuester’s with a spring in his step and an overexcited friend at his side. Yeah, there was no way in hell Puck was bringing Finn when he returned after hours. Some things weren’t meant to be shared.
Author: pterawaters
Rating: NC-17
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Puck/Kurt, Puck/Kurt/Finn
Genre: AU, wing!fic, one-shot
Warning: prostitution, wings, ooc!Finn
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Glee is not mine, at all.
Word Count: 2250
Author Notes: I wasn’t feeling well today and I was a little depressed, so I wrote this one-shot. I hope you like it.
Summary: When Finn dragged him to see the new whore at Schuester’s, Puck was skeptical and more than a little disinterested, until he saw him - the Fallen Angel.
“Dude,” Finn cried as he crashed into Puck’s apartment, making Puck look up from his guitar. “You have to come see this!”
“See what?” Puck asked, setting his instrument to the side before Finn could flail too much and destroy it like he had the last one.
“There’s this whore-”
Puck sighed, “You’ve been going to Schuester’s again? I thought you and Rachel had patched things up, man. You know you don’t have the money to keep-”
“He’s got this new one,” Finn insisted, ignoring Puck’s misgivings. “Called the Fallen Angel. He’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. C’mon, I’ve got us a reservation with him in, like, twenty.”
“Him?” Puck asked, fairly certain that the last time he’d checked, Finn wasn’t into gay stuff.
Finn nodded, herding Puck out the door. “He’s got these- Well, you’ll see. Totally makes up for him being a dude.”
“And you want me to come with, why?” Puck asked again, barely managing to lock his place up before Finn hustled him down the stairs and out onto the street. “If this whore is so great, why don’t you fuck him and leave me the hell out of it?”
“Reservations with this kid take, like, months to get,” Finn explained. “It was a lucky cancellation that let me get this spot at all. And believe me, with liking the guys you do, you are not going to want to miss this.”
Not for the first time, Puck regretted ever telling Finn he wasn’t straight. He’d thought it would make things with the band less awkward, but now Finn kept wanting to keep all the chicks they met for himself and introduce Puck to dudes. Puck recognized his friend’s somewhat-good intentions, but that didn’t mean his behavior didn’t get frustrating at times.
And then there was Finn’s addiction to the whorehouse. His favorite at the moment was Schuester’s, because the whores were generally younger - late teens and early twenties - and cheaper than at some of the more reputable houses. Puck really didn’t want to be the kind of guy who paid for it, but he’d come on a few occasions when Finn wouldn’t let him beg off.
After a brisk walk to the place, Finn pushed Puck inside, stopping at the hostess’ table (which was manned by a girl wearing just a g-string and a pair of pasties) and saying loudly, “Hey, we have a reservation with the Angel?” Like he was bragging or something. Puck scoffed and tried not to notice how the place smelled like incense to cover up the stench of sex.
Don’t get Puck wrong, he was all about sex, he was a frigging sex-shark. But doing it this way just went against everything he’d been working for lately and left a bad taste in his mouth.
The hostess led them into an antechamber of sorts where the whores sat around chatting. Most of them were female and lovely, though a few were male - either big muscled guys or lithe feminine boys. What drew Puck’s eyes however, was the whore sitting on a step near the center of the room, his side to the door as he spoke with the girl sitting a riser above him. His long limbs, dark brown hair, and snowy-white skin were on full display, as were a giant set of white-feathered wings erupting from his back and moving idly, like they were alive.
So that’s why they called him the Fallen Angel. All Puck could do was stare as the hostess called for him and the boy turned. He looked about sixteen or seventeen, with high cheekbones and a healthy blush below piercing blue eyes. The Angel stood from his perch gracefully, his lean arms and legs toned and lightly muscled, like a dancer’s, and those wings spreading out as he walked toward the center of the room, his blush-colored cock swinging relaxed between his legs.
When he reached Finn, the Angel bowed, his wings snapping out to their full, startlingly wide length before he stood, tucking his wings back in and keeping his head down as he led them both from the room. Puck tried as best he could to study the wings as they walked, but Finn - tall and maddeningly broad - was in his way. They were definitely real, alive and attached to the boy somehow, and Puck wanted nothing more than to reach out and stroke the soft-looking feathers.
He’d always had a little bit of a thing for birds.
Then the Angel led them into one of the many doors lining the hallway that spiraled up and around from the antechamber, showing them into his bedchamber, eyes still on the floor. As he closed the door behind them, Puck couldn’t help but ask, “How did a beautiful creature like you end up here?”
The Angel looked up at Puck, meeting his eyes sadly and was about to open his mouth, when Finn said, “Who gives a fuck? He’s a whore, Puck, not a person, and we don’t have much time.”
Puck held his tongue, knowing he couldn’t change Finn’s mind about whores being real people with real feelings in the span of an afternoon, much less the half-hour Finn had reserved them. Maybe if he knew Puck used to be one of these whorehouse boys, he would change his tune.
Set on his goal now, Finn circled the Angel before grabbing him by the back of the neck and kissing him roughly. Puck didn’t want to get turned on by the sight, but he couldn’t help it. The boy was just so pretty.
Not wanting to just watch, for fear of what Finn might do, Puck approached them, gently running his hands up the Angel’s back and out onto his wings. They were warm and the feathers responded to Puck’s touch with a light ruffling, standing up and then settling back down in his wake. He stroked them a little harder and the Angel moaned into Finn’s mouth, breathing harshly through his nose. It sounded real, so either this boy was well-trained or Puck was actually turning him on.
“Oh, gross,” Finn sighed, giving Puck an angered look over the Angel’s shoulder, “he’s getting hard. Here, let’s switch.” Finn grabbed the Angel by the shoulders and spun him around, ducking under one wing, but hitting Puck in the face with the other. Luckily it was mostly long feathers that trailed up and over his skin, making Puck shiver.
Now that the boy’s face was turned toward him, Puck met his eyes, coming to some sort of understanding with him very quickly. The Angel recognized Puck sympathy for him and nodded, reaching out to take Puck’s hand and bringing it to his cheek in thanks. Unable to help himself, Puck leaned forward and kissed the boy’s red lips, letting his hand slip back around the Angel’s neck as the embrace deepened.
Behind the boy, Finn was panting, kissing his way down the long back and doing something that made the Angel jump, startled. Puck shared a small smile with the boy, because rarely did anything surprise a seasoned whore, and kissed him again, leading him toward the bed as Finn struggled out of his clothes.
“Get him on his hands and knees,” Finn ordered, undoing his pants and stepping out of them. “I get first dibs on that ass.”
The Angel followed orders without Puck’s help, putting himself in the center of the bed, and rustling his wings above him, almost impatiently, though none of that emotion showed on his face.
Puck shed his clothes as well, knowing Finn was right and there was no way he could pass up this opportunity, not with the Fallen Angel watching him with those eyes, at once scared and hungry. Oh, he was good. He was very, very good to have perfected that look. It had taken Puck almost a year, and by the time he could buy his way out of the house, he still wasn’t quite sure he had it down.
Needing to touch those wings again, Puck knelt beside the Angel on the bed, trailing his fingers through the longer feathers and then upward, against the grain. He shivered and Puck watched in awe as the short hairs on the back of the Angel’s neck stood on end. So it was arousing for him to be touched this way.
Puck got in front of the Angel so he could fondle the other wing and gasped when the boy’s mouth came down around his hardening cock unbidden. “Shit,” Puck hissed as the warm heat enveloped him gently, teasing and just barely touching. “Oh, god that’s good.”
“See?” Finn gloated, kneeling behind the boy and taking his own cock in hand, brushing it against the Angel’s hole. “I told you this would-” he gasped a little as he pushed into the boy, making him groan deeply around Puck’s cock, “-be worth it, dude! Oh, shit he’s all warm and wet already, but tight. Fuck!”
Thrusting in deeper, Finn moved his hands from the Angel’s hips to the base of his wings, using them to pull the boy back onto his cock and ignoring the sound of protest he made. Tears in his eyes, the Angel looked up at Puck, almost pleadingly, so Puck tugged on his friend’s fingers and said, “Let go, man! You’re hurting him.”
“What the fuck ever, Puckerman,” Finn panted, building up steam.
“I’m not into pain, Finn,” Puck tried again, having a hard time coming up with what to say while the Angel’s lips were still wrapped around him. “You’re making me lose my boner here!”
“Fine,” Finn allowed, moving his hands back down to the boy’s hips and really going at it, thrusting into him so hard that he had no choice but to bob forward and back on Puck’s dick.
“So beautiful,” Puck found himself saying, threading one of his hands into the Angel’s hair and the other gently through his feathers, wondering if he could get off just by someone fondling his wings. It would be an interesting experiment.
The Angel groaned again, the vibrations of his voice teasing Puck and putting him just on the edge. Before long, Finn howled in release, snapping his hips and grinding deep into the Angel’s ass, making the boy suck harder and bring Puck over the edge as well.
“Fuck, he is good!” Finn smiled, panting as he pulled out and stumbled away. “I can’t say I’d see any other boys,” Finn added as he picked up his underwear from the floor and stepped into them while Puck pulled the Angel up and into a desperate kiss, “but I’m definitely making another reservation with this one. Holy crap!”
Puck tried to tune out his friend as he pulled the Angel’s body against his, hand finding his hard cock and stoking it gently, wanting to make this beautiful creature fall apart and needing to feel that warm release gush over his hand.
Finn seemed to notice this because he cleared his throat and said, “Well, I’m gonna let you finish that. You’ve got a few minutes left...”
Free hand going up to the Angel’s wing, petting and teasing, Puck stroked a little harder and sighed when the Angel came, shuddering against him and almost collapsing down onto the bed. He laid down on his side when Puck allowed it, propping his head up with one hand and meeting Puck’s eyes as the musician licked his fingers clean. Then the Angel smiled and chuckled softly, his voice high and musical, “I thought he’d never leave.”
Puck laughed as well, lying down beside him and stroking a hand over the boy’s hair. “How often to your clients fall in love with you?”
“Only every day,” the whore replied, tracing Puck’s lips with a gentle finger before kissing him. “However, it’s very rare that I fall a little bit in love as well.”
“Yeah,” Puck mused with a satisfied exhale, “I get that a lot.”
The Angel laughed and kissed him again before saying, “My real name is Kurt. If you want, you can come back any day after hours and ask for me by that name.”
“I couldn’t afford your overtime price, Kurt,” Puck sighed sadly, going to get up before Kurt touched his arm to get him to stay.
“Not for money,” Kurt insisted. “Just for me. You’re the only one who’s ever...”
“Who’s ever what?” Puck asked, thinking his time had to be up by now, but not really caring. “Bothered to get you off afterward?”
“Made me feel like a person,” Kurt corrected, kissing Puck again. “Instead of an interesting plaything. I like having that feeling back.”
The lights in the room flashed, telling Puck it was time to wrap things up, so he got out of bed to get dressed, smiling at Kurt after emerging from inside his shirt and promising, “Then I’ll be back whenever I can, Fallen Angel. You’ll think of me in the meantime?”
Kurt spread out his wings and leaned back against his pillows, stretching his full length as he replied, “Always, Mr. Puckerman.”
“Noah,” Puck corrected with a wink, taking in the sight of the Fallen Angel, his Angel, to keep with him as he left Schuester’s with a spring in his step and an overexcited friend at his side. Yeah, there was no way in hell Puck was bringing Finn when he returned after hours. Some things weren’t meant to be shared.