Name: Not Cheese

Pairing: Kinn - Finn/Kurt. Partly 'cause of Kinnja Monday. (And, whoa, I haven't read any of this in so long even though it was my first Glee pairing!)

Rating: M for gay sex and swearing.

Warnings: SMUT. This is PWP, as it was originally a drabble. I don't pretend it's anything else, it's just a bit of fun, meaningless smut.

Disclaimer: If I owned Fox, Glee would be on after 9 and Kurt would be having much more sex.

Notes: This is a request for boys-should-kiss-boys-more on tumblr, who wanted Kinn ;D It was supposed to just be a drabble, but it just grew. And it made me feel so refreshed to write some happy smut, so I thought I'd share.


Finn always thought it was supposed to be cheese that gave you nightmares.

Kurt had been bringing him milk for what seemed like forever now. It had become their little nightly ritual and eventually, after much persuasion and a little word from Rachel, he'd given in and started giving Kurt the lady chat he'd desired. Kurt had, of course, been over the moon, supplying him with all the latest gossip and his own opinions on the outfits of every glee member that day. It was a little tiring to listen to, but also weirdly soothing.

On the first night the dreams came, he'd walked in to find Kurt naked on his bed. He knew it was a dream, because Kurt didn't actually shave his legs (not that he was looking!) and the slight boy was actually quite a prude if the overheard conversations between him and Blaine were anything to go by. So it would make no sense that he would be sat there, smirking, lightly stroking his hard cock.

But there he was, and Finn wasn't sure why exactly, only that he was literally stark freaking naked and his other hand was holding a mug that said best brother. Finn was sure there was something seriously messed up with that, but it didn't stop him from licking Kurt's milk moustache away and ravishing him on the bed. He'd awakened shuddering, and let's just say that the white substance lining his boxers was not milk.

The second dream came after Kurt (the real Kurt, rather than his rather slutty alternative) had sat on his bed and bitched about Blaine getting a solo that was so rightly Kurt's and how he was regretting ever letting the shining star of Dalton step into McKinley. "We're still fine," Kurt had insisted, "It's a purely professional dispute."

That's not what dream!Kurt said that night, when he dropped to his knees and sucked Finn's dick, begged him to cum in his mouth, and licked up his seed with a contented smile on his pretty little face. Oh, no, he'd moaned about how Blaine just wasn't enough for him, wasn't big enough, wasn't man enough and, oh, Finn!

Kurt had asked him the next morning what on earth had possessed him to take a shower at three in the morning, and Finn could only blush bright red because Kurt had a smidgen of toothpaste on the corner of his mouth and, well, it was white, and apparently that was enough to need another cold shower.

The dreams got more frequent and more kinky, until Finn had to refuse Kurt's warm milk (the literal kind) in hopes it would stop them. It didn't work. Hell, it actually made them worse, because the Kurt that visited him that night was needy and cried at his feet about Finn rejecting him and didn't he want him any more? Finn felt so bad that he just had to fuck him until he screamed.

Things got tense around the real Kurt, and, suddenly and haughtily, he stopped offering the milk. The dreams continued but Kurt was no longer looking to him for lady chats or whatever the hell brother-to-brother bonding he had sought. When Kurt and Blaine broke up, real Kurt had been devastated, and Dream Kurt got more and more needy, until one morning, Finn was very nearly convinced that Kurt really had begged him to fuck his sweet little ass.

It was too much.

He heated the milk in the microwave. He didn't actually know how Kurt did it; maybe it was in the pan. But still, the microwave would do. He carried the two mugs up, one plain one and Kurt's, which didn't say best brother but was fancy and decorated. On the way up, he nearly dropped one of the mugs, so decided to get a tray. About three minutes later, he'd fetched biscuits and some honey and, fuck, the milk was probably only lukewarm now. Oh, well. Kurt wouldn't mind, hopefully.

"Hey, Kurt."

There was no answer. Okay, so maybe Kurt was angrier than he'd realised. But there was definitely music coming out of the room, so he knocked louder.

"Kurt!" He shouted through the door. He set one of the mugs down on the table, and knocked again. "Hey!"

"Door's locked for a reason, Finn!" Kurt called back, just as Finn pushed the handle down.

"Locked, it's not loc–"

Finn cut off his own sentence by choking on air and flinging the mug of milk all over himself in shock. Kurt, who looked like his face had just been dipped in bright red paint, was sat at his laptop, and his hand was… was… under the laptop, under the sheets and… oh.

"Oh my God, Finn! Get out!" Finn had never heard Kurt's voice reach that pitch before. It had to be some sort of record.

Finn was closing the door before he even knew it. He was literally dripping with milk, which was embarrassing enough, but it was nothing on Kurt, who looked like he was waiting for his bed to swallow him whole. "I said get out!" he squeaked, but his voice lacked enthusiasm. "What are you doing, don't take off your shirt!"

It was because he was wet, Kurt told himself. Because Finn didn't want to stand in his wet clothes. Not that his bedroom wasn't right next door. And he was stripping down when he'd just caught Kurt jerking off. Okay, what the hell?

"I brought you milk." Finn said, making it sound like a bad pickup line.

"I… I can see that. Finn, don't come any closer, oh my god. What are you doing? That's my laptop, be careful, I said be careful, you big dolt, oh!" Kurt's verbal vomit was interrupted as Finn, now only in his white boxers, climbed over him. "Oh." He whispered, his shoulders slumping as if all the air in his body was let out in one breath. He might have said oh again, but it was lost to the cavern of Finn's mouth. He allowed himself to weave his hands in Finn's hair as Finn hungrily kissed him, pressing down to what had been, and suddenly was again, a very desperate hard on.

Kurt let out a moan into Finn's mouth and he drove his hips down again, pleased by the noise. It was a lot lower than the Kurt in his dreams. A lot more manly, and that should probably have bothered him more than it did. His hands slipped down, throwing the sheet off of Kurt and sliding into his silken pyjama pants. Kurt was already leaking, and slick from what Finn assumed to be the lube he'd used whilst masturbating. With a jolt to his groin, he wondered if Kurt was going to finger himself, or if he already had. He couldn't resist brushing his hand down there, only to find it moist and soft, clearly stretched. Finn let out a small moan at that, immediately driving in two fingers and feeling Kurt's back arch into them.

Kurt started to babble after that, a long stream of moans and swear words, some so creative that Finn had never used them, and other that he would never want to use because they were so incoherent. (What was a cocksuckingwankfuck anyway?) Finn moved swiftly, deciding that Kurt was lovely and stretched already, and, after Kurt reluctantly produced a condom from the drawer (Finn was sure his face couldn't get any redder but what do you know?) pulled it on and settled behind Kurt. His hands circled Kurt's hips, squeezing and massaging in what he hoped was a soothing way. "Relax." he ordered, sounding much more confident than he felt, and pushed in slowly.

Okay, so Kurt had definitely done this before, and that was so not a spark of jealousy. Kurt was far too still, trying to get used to Finn inside of him, and Finn was almost lost in the hot tightness surrounding him. In his dreams, fucking Kurt had felt like fucking Santana, but, you know, with different holes. But this, holy hell, this was amazing. It was all he could do not to just lose it and thrust into Kurt harder and harder until he was clawing at the sheets and begging Finn to go faster, faster! In a minute, that was exactly what was happening, and Kurt's whole body was flushed an obscene pink colour as Finn pounded into him.

Somewhere along the line, Kurt's voice just went and he couldn't even talk anymore, just responding with whines and moans. Finn knew he was close, way too close, and Kurt was about to blow too, if those noises were any indication. He shifted forward slightly, to where he thought felt best for Kurt, and thrust faster, his hands resting on top of Kurt's. Kurt's fingers were twisted and pulling at the bed beneath him but he let Finn's entwine with them and let out a soft, sweet moan, shifting uncomfortably to kiss Finn.

That was all it took. Finn's orgasm tore through him, making him pull back from Kurt lest he bite his tongue. Kurt let out a guttural moan that Finn would never have expected, burying his face in the pillow to muffle himself, and within seconds, was shuddering beneath Finn.

When the two of them had stopped, Finn carefully pulled out and tied the condom, throwing it aside and making Kurt's nose wrinkle. The two of them lay back, panting hard. Kurt's stomach and sheets were sticky, and he was still twitching a little as he tried to catch his breath. Finn observed him, lying on his side, smiling softly at the way his hair was all dishevelled and his face was blotchy and pink.

It was a while before Kurt spoke, gasped, "Oh my god." He turned to his side and without warning, poked Finn in the cheek in utter disbelief. "Am I…was that a dream?"

Finn grinned at him, partly because of his own little inside joke. "It's cheese that gives you nightmares, not milk." He informed him, and Kurt sent him a look somewhere between irritation and bewilderment.

"I didn't even have any milk! And that…that was most certainly not a nightmare." His tone dropped into sudden contentment, and Finn couldn't help but lean in to kiss him softly again. As he pulled away, Kurt just stared at him, half shell-shocked, half ecstatic. Finn could definitely attest to this not being a nightmare.

And if it was, Finn was going to start a new routine of eating cheese every night instead.