The hookerfic, finally
Title: If You Forget Me
Rating: NC-17.
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Will/Kurt
Warnings: Graphic sex, very dark. It's hookerfic, basically.
Spoilers: Up to Preggers, technically.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or anything associated with it
Author Notes: Beta'd by theanonymousbeta@gmail.com, who has offered to anonymously beta other fics, as well. Thanks to _harmlessthings for helping me brainstorm! Title and quotes taken from Pablo Neruda's "Si Tu Me Olvidas."
Summary: AU from the Pilot - Will never came back to McKinley. A year passes, and things happen.
Word Count: 10,324 words
Kurt recognized his john the second he came into view, distant streetlights casting unidirectional shadows across the man’s face before he fully rounded the corner and slipped into the alley’s gloom. Kurt hadn’t seen him in a year, but William Schuester’s curly hair and earnest nice-guy features were unforgettable, even if his face seemed tired and worn in the dim light.
Months ago, Kurt had carefully chosen this alley, really just a gap between the back of a dive bar and a defunct movie theater awaiting a new patron or demolition - since it was Lima, Kurt’s bet was on the latter. The alley was one of the town’s few places that were both centrally located and hemmed in by buildings on all sides rather than open to fields or someone’s backyard. Despite the claustrophobic seediness, it was also near enough to the street that he could escape without too much trouble if it came to that (he might have been turning tricks on the streets of Nowhere, Ohio before graduating high school, but he wasn’t stupid). He had decided it was too risky to go to any of their houses and his own was off limits, but all of the men looking for a good time knew where this place was and could meet up with him as anonymously as they wanted, slipping into the bar through the back door and leaving with a ready excuse for their wives - the stink of cheap alcohol easily masked the smell of sex that clung to them after.
He wasn’t exactly surprised that Mr. Schue - Will, he supposed under these circumstances - would respond to his ad (well-written and discreet, thank you, unlike those by most of Allen County’s grammatically-challenged rentboys). He had seen the way the teacher looked at Finn Hudson during his short stint as Glee club director, even if Finn hadn’t noticed. Granted, Finn didn’t notice much of anything, really, not even that the baby he cried over after his girlfriend had given it up for adoption months ago had Noah Puckerman’s eyes. Kurt had almost pointed this out to him at the time in hopes of getting him to finally break up with Quinn, but the two had grown even more disgustingly attached to each other after she was no longer pregnant and Kurt’s crush on him had diminished over the year anyway. Hell, even Rachel Berry had given up after a few months, but that might have been mostly due to Finn quitting the Glee club in favor of a job to support Quinn while she carried his best friend’s spawn. The resulting meltdown had been the death knell for the rag-tag club, and Kurt knew that Rachel had never forgiven Finn for destroying her delusional hopes for high school stardom. Personally, Kurt had found all the yelling rather cathartic, especially after - no, he reminded himself, that wasn’t important.
Kurt had known better than to expect him to stay, but he had to admit that maybe he’d felt a pang of disappointment all the same as first their teacher, then their potential savior left (Finn had apparently learned Will’s lesson about being a grown-up well). It didn’t matter, though. Socially, things weren’t any worse after the club disintegrated than they’d been for the years leading up to it and if life had thrown some extra complications at him lately, then, well, it was nothing he couldn’t deal with himself. And that brought Kurt back full circle to the man approaching him through the alley.
Will didn’t show any sign of recognizing Kurt, which was just as well. He’d only been in one of the teacher’s classes and Spanish was never Kurt’s favorite subject, so he’d always stayed in the back and read magazines under the desk. He would have been annoyed if Will had noticed he was there. Still, Kurt nearly curled his lip at the fact that Will didn’t even remember him from Glee. After all, there had only been six students and Kurt liked to think that he was, if nothing else, distinctive enough to warrant remembering under those circumstances. The fact that it had only been a handful of rehearsals a year ago stopped him, though.
So did the fact that, more importantly, he was getting paid for having sex with Will, not pissing him off.
With that in mind, he pushed away everything but the alley around them, the smell of stale alcohol in the air, and the buzzing of a neon sign about to go out somewhere nearby. He flashed Will a professional smile, teeth flashing white in the gloom. “Hey, handsome,” he purred, heroically managing not to roll his eyes at his own standard opening line. He knew he could do better, but he wasn’t willing to expend too much energy scripting something new before he knew whether it would be appreciated. “You should have mentioned you were hot when we talked; I would have dressed up for the occasion.”
He rested a hand on a provocatively cocked hip and allowed Will’s eyes to rake over him through the dim light - cutoff jean shorts that hugged (and nearly exposed) his ass, a skintight wifebeater that showed pale in the dark, no designer labels or complicated fastenings for this - feeling a brief flare of nervousness that he’d be recognized under the scrutiny. He hoped not. One of the things he remembered about William Schuester during his (rare) late-night ‘what if’ sessions was that the man had been obsessed with the welfare of some of his students. Kurt didn’t think he made that list, but right now would be an awful moment to learn otherwise. Thankfully, Will’s eyes lingered on his body and only briefly flicked up to his face.
Will gave his head a little shake as if to chase off a stray thought and paced closer until he was squarely in Kurt’s personal space, breath hitting his face hot and beer-scented. His voice was more gravelly than Kurt remembered, harsher. Less melodic. “Cut the lines,” he said wearily. “Just -” his mouth twisted and he gestured vaguely downwards. Kurt suspected that if he wasn’t obscured by shadows, he’d see a flush of embarrassment deepening that of the alcohol.
Kurt shrugged unconcernedly and dropped to his knees, wincing and shifting away from the pebbles in the cement before he went back to his work. He batted away Will’s hands from where they were fumbling with his suit trousers’ zipper - some department store brand, not cheap but not really tasteful, either. He couldn’t tell the color with the light, but it certainly wasn’t anything as creative or buoyant as the boyish sweater vests and ties he remembered.
Something flashed in his mind, the implied broken promise of singing to an empty auditorium a year ago, and couldn’t resist dropping a brief mocking kiss on the gold band on Will’s ring finger. Will tensed up at the subtle contact. Kurt smirked cruelly, the twist of lips hidden by his bowed head, and continued on smoothly, popping the button and then grabbing the zipper between his teeth, sliding it down with the ease of practice.
“Mhm, impressive,” he pretended to moan when he’d freed Will’s dick from his boxers (which had music notes on them - could the man be any more obvious?). It was only half hard, but he followed the script like always. Kurt took it in his hand and began a steady rhythm of stroking it to hardness, leaning in to press a teasing kiss against the head as it swelled and lifted under his palm. He looked up at Will from under his lashes and let his tongue peek out and lick his lips delicately. “You’ve got a great cock,” he whispered high and breathy, using what he privately called his Marilyn Monroe impression. Most men seemed to get off on his voice. He was happy to play it up for them accordingly, murmuring dirty praises before, during, and after, pretending breathless admiration. “God, it’s perfect. I can’t wait to taste it, feel it sliding all the way back to my-“
“Stop it,” Will sighed, cutting him off brusquely, a hand going up to run wearily through curly hair. “Just - stop. I’m not paying you to talk. If I wanted that I’d have stayed at home.” The last part sounded like it slipped out accidentally, as Will’s brow furrowed immediately after and a guilty look crossed his face. Kurt didn’t get a chance to ponder it further as a hand quickly reached down to cup the back of his head and jerked him forward until the head of Will’s dick pressed insistently against his barely-parted lips. His gaze flicked upwards at the movement despite the familiar pressure. Even from his uncomfortable angle, he could see Will’s jaw tighten, his expression sliding from guilt to something dark and unhappy and vaguely desperate.
All the same, he wouldn’t have pegged Will as the type for rough sex until the man’s cock nearly gagged him the second he opened his mouth, Will’s hips thrusting forward too fast and his hands pulling Kurt closer until his mouth was totally filled. Kurt let Will continue to push forward, relaxing his throat and letting his jaw go slack, not wanting to accidentally choke or sputter when the tip bumped against the back of his throat. He did his best to bring his lips and tongue into play once Will pulled back so far that just the head was between his lips, lapping lightly at what he could reach, swirling the tip of his tongue around the slit, but the next erratic, deep thrusts into his mouth made it difficult to employ any of his skill. He closed his eyes and concentrated on tightening his lips around the shaft instead and sucking, breathing through his nose and trying to be an active participant rather than the blow-up doll Will clearly needed to get if he was just interested in face-fucking him like his dick would shrivel if he didn’t go fast enough.
He bit back his mounting annoyance as the hard flesh pumped in and out of his mouth regardless of his attempts to pleasure the man. When the tang of salt and musk became stronger, a rush of pre-come lubricating the slide between his lips, Kurt almost felt relieved. He’d get paid less if it turned out that Will had an early arrival problem and came in his mouth in the next minute, but it was beginning to sound like a fair trade-off. He understood that some men were as interested in letting out their frustration on a target that wouldn’t fight back as they were in sexual gratification, but that didn’t mean he had to enjoy it when ‘nice guys’ took out their repressed issues on him. Judging by the hand tangled harshly in his hair and the force with which he was repeatedly pushed down onto Will’s erection, Will in particular had a lot of issues to work through.
Before Kurt could bring him off, though, and just spit out the come, get his fee, and leave, Will abruptly pulled him off of his cock with a wet sound. Breathing hard and grimacing, Will tugged him to his feet. Kurt’s hands automatically closed around Will’s wrist so that his hair wouldn’t be yanked uncomfortably in the process, but he stood without protest. He wasn’t particularly anticipating the next part, given Will’s ignorance of how to make things comfortable so far, but he wasn’t about to refuse the higher fare. Will didn’t seem to notice or care about the reproachful look sent his way as he released his grip on Kurt’s hair, leaving it mussed and ruffled. “Turn around and face the wall,” Will ordered, his voice rough with arousal.
Kurt complied and stood facing the brick wall of the bar, catching his breath and holding back the urge to clear his throat. The back door was only about twenty feet away, light streaming through the window to make a jagged shape on the ground, but he wasn’t especially worried about anyone coming out. The bar’s few employees would be busy inside with the small but raucous happy hour crowd, which broke out in periodic bursts of noise that could be heard even in the alley. He could also hear Will’s breath coming raggedly as the man moved to stand behind him, so he slid his hand into his pocket to retrieve a few items, which he wordlessly passed to Will.
As Will fumbled the condom on and lubed himself up, Kurt undid his shorts and hooked his fingers into the belt loops. He considered making a show of it like he normally did, stripping them off slowly to reveal that he wasn’t wearing anything beneath, but a glance over his shoulder showed that Will was getting impatient. He hid a grimace and moved quickly. Under Will’s narrowing eyes, he unceremoniously wriggled the tight denim down off his hips until he could drop the shorts to the ground and kick them to the side. He’d lament the poor treatment of the garment later, but there was a reason he’d learned not to wear clothes he really liked for these meetings.
One of Will’s hands settled on Kurt’s hip and he leaned his upper body forward so he could brace himself with his hands flat on the brick, curling his fingers into the gaps where the mortar was beginning to crumble. A lubed finger traced almost gently down the cleft of his ass until it hovered over his entrance. Kurt stared ahead at the wall and exhaled, made himself relax. The finger pushed inside easily, withdrew, was joined by another and then another. Kurt sighed at the intrusion and hoped it sounded adequately like the noise of pleasure he intended.
Will hissed behind him and the hand on Kurt’s hip tightened. “Prepared yourself already?” he said, slurring almost unnoticeably. The fingers kept moving inside him, scissoring and twisting easily.
Kurt couldn’t tell if the heat in Will’s voice was from approval or disapproval, so he replied as neutrally as he could, “I didn’t want to make you do all the work.” Normally, he knew exactly what to say, what fantasy to evoke, how to best play someone. Will was throwing him off. There was too much familiarity to make a first impression, too much time in the interim to take advantage of that knowledge. He frowned, drew himself back to the moment. The bricks ahead of him were almost all cracked, their texture rough under his hands, and there was still an insistent pressure as the fingers moved restlessly in his ass.
Will went silent and the fingers stretching him withdrew, replaced by a larger, blunt pressure as the hand that had been in him landed heavily on his hip, drawing him back towards Will. He went with it, only briefly closing his eyes at the familiar burn of penetration, the push-slide of the lubricated cock stretching his insides. Kurt exhaled shakily, pushed back until Will was fully sheathed in him, the scratchy fabric of Will’s open trousers rubbing against his ass. The fingers clenched around his hips were squeezing too tight, and he just knew he was going to get bruises overlapping the sets already there.
Will made quiet gasping sounds as he bottomed out and just stayed there for a second before slowly pulling back out most of the way. Kurt hissed at the movement and concentrated on the faint pleasure rather than the discomfort. The snap of Will’s hips as he roughly pushed back in came sooner than Kurt expected, but he did his best to lean back into it despite the hands trying to hold him stationary. He allowed himself to moan quietly at the movement but didn’t try to play it up this time; Will didn’t seem especially concerned with whether he was enjoying it or not. Will gradually picked up a punishing rhythm as even his breathing came quicker and harsher, slamming into him so roughly that he had to lean his forearms on the wall to brace himself against the thrusts pitching him forwards.
One, two... He tuned out the sound of Will’s quiet grunts of effort, counting all the bricks he could see rather than focusing on his former teacher fucking him. Twelve, thirteen - Will made a tiny displeased sound and Kurt automatically shifted to spread his legs wider, allowing him better access.
He’d counted seventy-two when Will’s rhythm started to falter, strokes coming uneven and hard enough that he couldn’t think anymore, the hands on his hips pulling ruthlessly so that Will plunged deeper into him each time, propelling him against the wall until his forearms started to rub raw. One particular thrust finally brushed something inside Kurt and he gasped and squirmed slightly until the next one came even rougher and made him hiss in discomfort instead. ‘Someone has no idea what he’s doing,’ Kurt thought vindictively, a sudden clear thought through the haze.
Finally, Will’s muscles seized up and his thrusts became shallow and rapid. The harsh panting turned into broken moans and gasps. In the middle of a hitched groan, something that sounded like a pained “Emma” fell from his lips and his cock jerked inside Kurt. When it was over, Will loosened his death-grip and pried his fingers off of Kurt’s hips, then withdrew from him with another sigh.
Kurt stayed slumped against the wall for long enough to regain his breath, trying to ignore the soreness of his reddened arms and hands and the ache in his ass. When he could move again, he retrieved his shorts from the cement and pulled them on with a wince. He straightened up to face Will, taking a deep breath and tilting his chin up even as he watched him tie off the condom and eye it uncomfortably before reluctantly dropping it on the ground.
Will’s fingers, still slick with traces of lube, kept slipping off his zipper as he tried to do up his fly again. His growing embarrassment was obvious even through the dim light, the tiny clinks of the zipper falling back against itself not quite audible over the sudden burst of noise from inside the bar, but his huffed breaths were. Kurt just watched for a few moments, not feeling particularly inclined to help. Will bit his lip and stared down, then went to wipe his hands on his trouser legs.
This was getting pathetic, Kurt realized. He sighed heavily, rolled his eyes so hard he briefly worried he had pulled something, and took over. He fished a Kleenex out of a pocket and handed it to Will to wipe his hands, then reached down and efficiently did Will’s fly up himself. He couldn’t resist giving his crotch a sardonic pat as he pulled away.
“Better?” he asked, unable to keep the snide tone out of his voice.
“Thanks,” Will murmured, not meeting his eyes. He looked drained in the wake of his orgasm. Any spark that had flickered in his earlier irritation was gone, and now he just looked tired and old. The neon light from around some corner gave a last sharp buzz and died out.
Light leaked out around the edges of the bar’s back door and window, distant streetlamps sent a glow creeping to the edge of the alley, but in the shadowy space between the dive bar and the dead theater, Kurt stared at Will and had to struggle to make out his features in the dark.
He wondered if this was what Finn would look like someday if he never left Lima.
“How much?” Will asked eventually, reaching into his pocket.
Kurt gave him a long look, gauging the weariness in his stance and creeping guilt in his eyes. “One-fifty, normally,” he replied, voice cool and bored, professionally cold with a hint of disdain. “I’ll give you a discount to seventy-five, though, since you evidently weren’t satisfied.”
Will pulled a few bills out of his pocket and handed them awkwardly over. “No, it wasn’t - You were fine, I just had a bad day. Not your fault.” He took a shaky breath and watched Kurt raise an eyebrow and pocket the hundred and fifty dollars. “Sorry,” he added, running a hand over his face.
Kurt softened enough to give him a small smile. “I assumed as much.” The smile turned into a teasing smirk as he continued, “I mean, no one’s ever complained before.”
Will huffed a weak laugh and they stood there looking at each other in the gloom.
Kurt knew he should leave, but normally he waited for his trick to go first. It seemed polite and probably safer. Will wasn’t moving yet, though, so after an awkward minute he quietly ventured, “’Emma’ isn’t your wife’s name, is it?”
The man who had been his teacher once stared at him for a moment longer before shaking his head ‘no.’ Kurt hesitated, thinking of a stupidly cheerful smile and far too much zeal and embarrassingly deep faith in a handful of loser kids - though apparently not enough in the end. He sighed. Then he broke from the script, stepping forward and leaning up to press a chaste kiss on Will’s cheek. There was stubble under his lips, more uneven than he remembered it being a year ago. Will tensed in surprise, but Kurt pulled back and pasted on a bright smile.
“You know how to contact me. Do yourself a favor and send me a line before you have another bad day, alright? Satisfaction or not,” he quirked an eyebrow but smiled anyway, “return customers get a special price.”
Will blinked at him a few times but then relaxed and nodded shortly.
Kurt watched him go, glancing back only once before opening the bar’s back door and letting light flood into the alley. And then he disappeared into the harsh glow and the door closed and it was just Kurt in the darkness with the smell of alcohol and semen and sweat. A song came on from inside the bar and a handful of drunken patrons started singing along. Kurt didn’t hear Will among them.
When someone stopped the song a few bars in and started a new one, Kurt turned and walked out of the alley. He really wasn’t in the mood for Journey.
Part 2
Rating: NC-17.
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Will/Kurt
Warnings: Graphic sex, very dark. It's hookerfic, basically.
Spoilers: Up to Preggers, technically.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or anything associated with it
Author Notes: Beta'd by theanonymousbeta@gmail.com, who has offered to anonymously beta other fics, as well. Thanks to _harmlessthings for helping me brainstorm! Title and quotes taken from Pablo Neruda's "Si Tu Me Olvidas."
Summary: AU from the Pilot - Will never came back to McKinley. A year passes, and things happen.
Word Count: 10,324 words
Kurt recognized his john the second he came into view, distant streetlights casting unidirectional shadows across the man’s face before he fully rounded the corner and slipped into the alley’s gloom. Kurt hadn’t seen him in a year, but William Schuester’s curly hair and earnest nice-guy features were unforgettable, even if his face seemed tired and worn in the dim light.
Months ago, Kurt had carefully chosen this alley, really just a gap between the back of a dive bar and a defunct movie theater awaiting a new patron or demolition - since it was Lima, Kurt’s bet was on the latter. The alley was one of the town’s few places that were both centrally located and hemmed in by buildings on all sides rather than open to fields or someone’s backyard. Despite the claustrophobic seediness, it was also near enough to the street that he could escape without too much trouble if it came to that (he might have been turning tricks on the streets of Nowhere, Ohio before graduating high school, but he wasn’t stupid). He had decided it was too risky to go to any of their houses and his own was off limits, but all of the men looking for a good time knew where this place was and could meet up with him as anonymously as they wanted, slipping into the bar through the back door and leaving with a ready excuse for their wives - the stink of cheap alcohol easily masked the smell of sex that clung to them after.
He wasn’t exactly surprised that Mr. Schue - Will, he supposed under these circumstances - would respond to his ad (well-written and discreet, thank you, unlike those by most of Allen County’s grammatically-challenged rentboys). He had seen the way the teacher looked at Finn Hudson during his short stint as Glee club director, even if Finn hadn’t noticed. Granted, Finn didn’t notice much of anything, really, not even that the baby he cried over after his girlfriend had given it up for adoption months ago had Noah Puckerman’s eyes. Kurt had almost pointed this out to him at the time in hopes of getting him to finally break up with Quinn, but the two had grown even more disgustingly attached to each other after she was no longer pregnant and Kurt’s crush on him had diminished over the year anyway. Hell, even Rachel Berry had given up after a few months, but that might have been mostly due to Finn quitting the Glee club in favor of a job to support Quinn while she carried his best friend’s spawn. The resulting meltdown had been the death knell for the rag-tag club, and Kurt knew that Rachel had never forgiven Finn for destroying her delusional hopes for high school stardom. Personally, Kurt had found all the yelling rather cathartic, especially after - no, he reminded himself, that wasn’t important.
Kurt had known better than to expect him to stay, but he had to admit that maybe he’d felt a pang of disappointment all the same as first their teacher, then their potential savior left (Finn had apparently learned Will’s lesson about being a grown-up well). It didn’t matter, though. Socially, things weren’t any worse after the club disintegrated than they’d been for the years leading up to it and if life had thrown some extra complications at him lately, then, well, it was nothing he couldn’t deal with himself. And that brought Kurt back full circle to the man approaching him through the alley.
Will didn’t show any sign of recognizing Kurt, which was just as well. He’d only been in one of the teacher’s classes and Spanish was never Kurt’s favorite subject, so he’d always stayed in the back and read magazines under the desk. He would have been annoyed if Will had noticed he was there. Still, Kurt nearly curled his lip at the fact that Will didn’t even remember him from Glee. After all, there had only been six students and Kurt liked to think that he was, if nothing else, distinctive enough to warrant remembering under those circumstances. The fact that it had only been a handful of rehearsals a year ago stopped him, though.
So did the fact that, more importantly, he was getting paid for having sex with Will, not pissing him off.
With that in mind, he pushed away everything but the alley around them, the smell of stale alcohol in the air, and the buzzing of a neon sign about to go out somewhere nearby. He flashed Will a professional smile, teeth flashing white in the gloom. “Hey, handsome,” he purred, heroically managing not to roll his eyes at his own standard opening line. He knew he could do better, but he wasn’t willing to expend too much energy scripting something new before he knew whether it would be appreciated. “You should have mentioned you were hot when we talked; I would have dressed up for the occasion.”
He rested a hand on a provocatively cocked hip and allowed Will’s eyes to rake over him through the dim light - cutoff jean shorts that hugged (and nearly exposed) his ass, a skintight wifebeater that showed pale in the dark, no designer labels or complicated fastenings for this - feeling a brief flare of nervousness that he’d be recognized under the scrutiny. He hoped not. One of the things he remembered about William Schuester during his (rare) late-night ‘what if’ sessions was that the man had been obsessed with the welfare of some of his students. Kurt didn’t think he made that list, but right now would be an awful moment to learn otherwise. Thankfully, Will’s eyes lingered on his body and only briefly flicked up to his face.
Will gave his head a little shake as if to chase off a stray thought and paced closer until he was squarely in Kurt’s personal space, breath hitting his face hot and beer-scented. His voice was more gravelly than Kurt remembered, harsher. Less melodic. “Cut the lines,” he said wearily. “Just -” his mouth twisted and he gestured vaguely downwards. Kurt suspected that if he wasn’t obscured by shadows, he’d see a flush of embarrassment deepening that of the alcohol.
Kurt shrugged unconcernedly and dropped to his knees, wincing and shifting away from the pebbles in the cement before he went back to his work. He batted away Will’s hands from where they were fumbling with his suit trousers’ zipper - some department store brand, not cheap but not really tasteful, either. He couldn’t tell the color with the light, but it certainly wasn’t anything as creative or buoyant as the boyish sweater vests and ties he remembered.
Something flashed in his mind, the implied broken promise of singing to an empty auditorium a year ago, and couldn’t resist dropping a brief mocking kiss on the gold band on Will’s ring finger. Will tensed up at the subtle contact. Kurt smirked cruelly, the twist of lips hidden by his bowed head, and continued on smoothly, popping the button and then grabbing the zipper between his teeth, sliding it down with the ease of practice.
“Mhm, impressive,” he pretended to moan when he’d freed Will’s dick from his boxers (which had music notes on them - could the man be any more obvious?). It was only half hard, but he followed the script like always. Kurt took it in his hand and began a steady rhythm of stroking it to hardness, leaning in to press a teasing kiss against the head as it swelled and lifted under his palm. He looked up at Will from under his lashes and let his tongue peek out and lick his lips delicately. “You’ve got a great cock,” he whispered high and breathy, using what he privately called his Marilyn Monroe impression. Most men seemed to get off on his voice. He was happy to play it up for them accordingly, murmuring dirty praises before, during, and after, pretending breathless admiration. “God, it’s perfect. I can’t wait to taste it, feel it sliding all the way back to my-“
“Stop it,” Will sighed, cutting him off brusquely, a hand going up to run wearily through curly hair. “Just - stop. I’m not paying you to talk. If I wanted that I’d have stayed at home.” The last part sounded like it slipped out accidentally, as Will’s brow furrowed immediately after and a guilty look crossed his face. Kurt didn’t get a chance to ponder it further as a hand quickly reached down to cup the back of his head and jerked him forward until the head of Will’s dick pressed insistently against his barely-parted lips. His gaze flicked upwards at the movement despite the familiar pressure. Even from his uncomfortable angle, he could see Will’s jaw tighten, his expression sliding from guilt to something dark and unhappy and vaguely desperate.
All the same, he wouldn’t have pegged Will as the type for rough sex until the man’s cock nearly gagged him the second he opened his mouth, Will’s hips thrusting forward too fast and his hands pulling Kurt closer until his mouth was totally filled. Kurt let Will continue to push forward, relaxing his throat and letting his jaw go slack, not wanting to accidentally choke or sputter when the tip bumped against the back of his throat. He did his best to bring his lips and tongue into play once Will pulled back so far that just the head was between his lips, lapping lightly at what he could reach, swirling the tip of his tongue around the slit, but the next erratic, deep thrusts into his mouth made it difficult to employ any of his skill. He closed his eyes and concentrated on tightening his lips around the shaft instead and sucking, breathing through his nose and trying to be an active participant rather than the blow-up doll Will clearly needed to get if he was just interested in face-fucking him like his dick would shrivel if he didn’t go fast enough.
He bit back his mounting annoyance as the hard flesh pumped in and out of his mouth regardless of his attempts to pleasure the man. When the tang of salt and musk became stronger, a rush of pre-come lubricating the slide between his lips, Kurt almost felt relieved. He’d get paid less if it turned out that Will had an early arrival problem and came in his mouth in the next minute, but it was beginning to sound like a fair trade-off. He understood that some men were as interested in letting out their frustration on a target that wouldn’t fight back as they were in sexual gratification, but that didn’t mean he had to enjoy it when ‘nice guys’ took out their repressed issues on him. Judging by the hand tangled harshly in his hair and the force with which he was repeatedly pushed down onto Will’s erection, Will in particular had a lot of issues to work through.
Before Kurt could bring him off, though, and just spit out the come, get his fee, and leave, Will abruptly pulled him off of his cock with a wet sound. Breathing hard and grimacing, Will tugged him to his feet. Kurt’s hands automatically closed around Will’s wrist so that his hair wouldn’t be yanked uncomfortably in the process, but he stood without protest. He wasn’t particularly anticipating the next part, given Will’s ignorance of how to make things comfortable so far, but he wasn’t about to refuse the higher fare. Will didn’t seem to notice or care about the reproachful look sent his way as he released his grip on Kurt’s hair, leaving it mussed and ruffled. “Turn around and face the wall,” Will ordered, his voice rough with arousal.
Kurt complied and stood facing the brick wall of the bar, catching his breath and holding back the urge to clear his throat. The back door was only about twenty feet away, light streaming through the window to make a jagged shape on the ground, but he wasn’t especially worried about anyone coming out. The bar’s few employees would be busy inside with the small but raucous happy hour crowd, which broke out in periodic bursts of noise that could be heard even in the alley. He could also hear Will’s breath coming raggedly as the man moved to stand behind him, so he slid his hand into his pocket to retrieve a few items, which he wordlessly passed to Will.
As Will fumbled the condom on and lubed himself up, Kurt undid his shorts and hooked his fingers into the belt loops. He considered making a show of it like he normally did, stripping them off slowly to reveal that he wasn’t wearing anything beneath, but a glance over his shoulder showed that Will was getting impatient. He hid a grimace and moved quickly. Under Will’s narrowing eyes, he unceremoniously wriggled the tight denim down off his hips until he could drop the shorts to the ground and kick them to the side. He’d lament the poor treatment of the garment later, but there was a reason he’d learned not to wear clothes he really liked for these meetings.
One of Will’s hands settled on Kurt’s hip and he leaned his upper body forward so he could brace himself with his hands flat on the brick, curling his fingers into the gaps where the mortar was beginning to crumble. A lubed finger traced almost gently down the cleft of his ass until it hovered over his entrance. Kurt stared ahead at the wall and exhaled, made himself relax. The finger pushed inside easily, withdrew, was joined by another and then another. Kurt sighed at the intrusion and hoped it sounded adequately like the noise of pleasure he intended.
Will hissed behind him and the hand on Kurt’s hip tightened. “Prepared yourself already?” he said, slurring almost unnoticeably. The fingers kept moving inside him, scissoring and twisting easily.
Kurt couldn’t tell if the heat in Will’s voice was from approval or disapproval, so he replied as neutrally as he could, “I didn’t want to make you do all the work.” Normally, he knew exactly what to say, what fantasy to evoke, how to best play someone. Will was throwing him off. There was too much familiarity to make a first impression, too much time in the interim to take advantage of that knowledge. He frowned, drew himself back to the moment. The bricks ahead of him were almost all cracked, their texture rough under his hands, and there was still an insistent pressure as the fingers moved restlessly in his ass.
Will went silent and the fingers stretching him withdrew, replaced by a larger, blunt pressure as the hand that had been in him landed heavily on his hip, drawing him back towards Will. He went with it, only briefly closing his eyes at the familiar burn of penetration, the push-slide of the lubricated cock stretching his insides. Kurt exhaled shakily, pushed back until Will was fully sheathed in him, the scratchy fabric of Will’s open trousers rubbing against his ass. The fingers clenched around his hips were squeezing too tight, and he just knew he was going to get bruises overlapping the sets already there.
Will made quiet gasping sounds as he bottomed out and just stayed there for a second before slowly pulling back out most of the way. Kurt hissed at the movement and concentrated on the faint pleasure rather than the discomfort. The snap of Will’s hips as he roughly pushed back in came sooner than Kurt expected, but he did his best to lean back into it despite the hands trying to hold him stationary. He allowed himself to moan quietly at the movement but didn’t try to play it up this time; Will didn’t seem especially concerned with whether he was enjoying it or not. Will gradually picked up a punishing rhythm as even his breathing came quicker and harsher, slamming into him so roughly that he had to lean his forearms on the wall to brace himself against the thrusts pitching him forwards.
One, two... He tuned out the sound of Will’s quiet grunts of effort, counting all the bricks he could see rather than focusing on his former teacher fucking him. Twelve, thirteen - Will made a tiny displeased sound and Kurt automatically shifted to spread his legs wider, allowing him better access.
He’d counted seventy-two when Will’s rhythm started to falter, strokes coming uneven and hard enough that he couldn’t think anymore, the hands on his hips pulling ruthlessly so that Will plunged deeper into him each time, propelling him against the wall until his forearms started to rub raw. One particular thrust finally brushed something inside Kurt and he gasped and squirmed slightly until the next one came even rougher and made him hiss in discomfort instead. ‘Someone has no idea what he’s doing,’ Kurt thought vindictively, a sudden clear thought through the haze.
Finally, Will’s muscles seized up and his thrusts became shallow and rapid. The harsh panting turned into broken moans and gasps. In the middle of a hitched groan, something that sounded like a pained “Emma” fell from his lips and his cock jerked inside Kurt. When it was over, Will loosened his death-grip and pried his fingers off of Kurt’s hips, then withdrew from him with another sigh.
Kurt stayed slumped against the wall for long enough to regain his breath, trying to ignore the soreness of his reddened arms and hands and the ache in his ass. When he could move again, he retrieved his shorts from the cement and pulled them on with a wince. He straightened up to face Will, taking a deep breath and tilting his chin up even as he watched him tie off the condom and eye it uncomfortably before reluctantly dropping it on the ground.
Will’s fingers, still slick with traces of lube, kept slipping off his zipper as he tried to do up his fly again. His growing embarrassment was obvious even through the dim light, the tiny clinks of the zipper falling back against itself not quite audible over the sudden burst of noise from inside the bar, but his huffed breaths were. Kurt just watched for a few moments, not feeling particularly inclined to help. Will bit his lip and stared down, then went to wipe his hands on his trouser legs.
This was getting pathetic, Kurt realized. He sighed heavily, rolled his eyes so hard he briefly worried he had pulled something, and took over. He fished a Kleenex out of a pocket and handed it to Will to wipe his hands, then reached down and efficiently did Will’s fly up himself. He couldn’t resist giving his crotch a sardonic pat as he pulled away.
“Better?” he asked, unable to keep the snide tone out of his voice.
“Thanks,” Will murmured, not meeting his eyes. He looked drained in the wake of his orgasm. Any spark that had flickered in his earlier irritation was gone, and now he just looked tired and old. The neon light from around some corner gave a last sharp buzz and died out.
Light leaked out around the edges of the bar’s back door and window, distant streetlamps sent a glow creeping to the edge of the alley, but in the shadowy space between the dive bar and the dead theater, Kurt stared at Will and had to struggle to make out his features in the dark.
He wondered if this was what Finn would look like someday if he never left Lima.
“How much?” Will asked eventually, reaching into his pocket.
Kurt gave him a long look, gauging the weariness in his stance and creeping guilt in his eyes. “One-fifty, normally,” he replied, voice cool and bored, professionally cold with a hint of disdain. “I’ll give you a discount to seventy-five, though, since you evidently weren’t satisfied.”
Will pulled a few bills out of his pocket and handed them awkwardly over. “No, it wasn’t - You were fine, I just had a bad day. Not your fault.” He took a shaky breath and watched Kurt raise an eyebrow and pocket the hundred and fifty dollars. “Sorry,” he added, running a hand over his face.
Kurt softened enough to give him a small smile. “I assumed as much.” The smile turned into a teasing smirk as he continued, “I mean, no one’s ever complained before.”
Will huffed a weak laugh and they stood there looking at each other in the gloom.
Kurt knew he should leave, but normally he waited for his trick to go first. It seemed polite and probably safer. Will wasn’t moving yet, though, so after an awkward minute he quietly ventured, “’Emma’ isn’t your wife’s name, is it?”
The man who had been his teacher once stared at him for a moment longer before shaking his head ‘no.’ Kurt hesitated, thinking of a stupidly cheerful smile and far too much zeal and embarrassingly deep faith in a handful of loser kids - though apparently not enough in the end. He sighed. Then he broke from the script, stepping forward and leaning up to press a chaste kiss on Will’s cheek. There was stubble under his lips, more uneven than he remembered it being a year ago. Will tensed in surprise, but Kurt pulled back and pasted on a bright smile.
“You know how to contact me. Do yourself a favor and send me a line before you have another bad day, alright? Satisfaction or not,” he quirked an eyebrow but smiled anyway, “return customers get a special price.”
Will blinked at him a few times but then relaxed and nodded shortly.
Kurt watched him go, glancing back only once before opening the bar’s back door and letting light flood into the alley. And then he disappeared into the harsh glow and the door closed and it was just Kurt in the darkness with the smell of alcohol and semen and sweat. A song came on from inside the bar and a handful of drunken patrons started singing along. Kurt didn’t hear Will among them.
When someone stopped the song a few bars in and started a new one, Kurt turned and walked out of the alley. He really wasn’t in the mood for Journey.
Part 2