Author's Note: While I am fundamentally a Kurofsky pirate at heart, I find myself intrigued by the frenemies possibilities of Kerbastian. This is just a little plot bunny that came to me and it seems to be turning into a longer story despite my intentions. Reviews would be wonderful – hint, hint! Hambeka

Warning: The characters here are not practicing safe sex. That's only because it's fiction, so for the purpose of this story please accept that none of the characters has an STD. In real life, I think they would all use protection.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. You probably knew that already.

Chapter One: Top of the Heap

'Hell to pay', wasn't that the phrase? Deal with the Devil and there will be Hell to pay.

In Kurt's defense, he was driven to it by desperation. His first time with Blaine had been... Well, why don't you watch and decide for yourself.

...o ... o... ...o ... o... ...o ... o... ...o ... o...

"Ow! Ow! Stop, Kurt, stop!"

"Oh god!" the countertenor cried, pulling back immediately. "Again? I'm so sorry, Blaine," he cooed softly, face twisted in grief as he watched his boyfriend gasp for breath, but not in a good way. "I'm so sorry I hurt you."

The dark haired boy wiggled out from under him and turned away. His shoulders began to shake.

"Oh Blaine, please don't cry. I don't... I don't understand what we're doing" Kurt swallowed hard "what I'm doing wrong. Maybe if I prepped you more?"

"It's just no good. Something's just wrong with me!" Blaine punched his pillow in frustration.

Kurt didn't know what to say that wouldn't make the situation worse. They'd 'been together' before – heavenly hand jobs, intense blow jobs, some delightful frottage. But tonight was supposed to be The Night. They were going to go all the way, actually lose their virginity to one another. It was supposed to be sweet and romantic, but instead his boyfriend was in tears and he felt like a total jerk.

They lay together in silence for a few minutes, Kurt gently trailing his fingers up and down Blaine's arm, occasionally leaning forward to place tiny, soft kisses on his shoulder or in his hair, just trying to maintain the tenderness between them.

Still facing the wall, Blaine spoke very quietly, so quietly it was obvious he was terrified to ask. "Um, Kurt – honey – maybe... i-if we tried with me on top –?"

"NO!" Kurt sat up abruptly and wrapped his arms protectively across his chest. Blaine rolled over and glared up at him. "Oh Blaine, please don't look at me like that. I told you before, I can't. After being sexually harassed by Karofsky last year, I just... I have to be the one in control. Please understand. I love you, but I just... I can't bottom. I'm so sorry."

"Stop saying that!" Blaine snapped, now getting really annoyed. He threw his arm across his face, covering his eyes. "You're sorry, I'm sorry, this whole situation is fucking sorry!"

Kurt bit his lip to keep from apologizing again. God, he was the worst lover in history! "Do you... do you want... I could, you know, jerk you off?"

The pleading tone in his voice just infuriated Blaine even further. He didn't mind bottoming, he really didn't. He just wanted Kurt so much, he'd take the countertenor any way he could get him. Kurt was gorgeous and kind and brave and Kurt loved him. They loved each other, so why the fuck wasn't it working?

Blaine decided he'd had enough for one night. When his boyfriend reached for his dick, Blaine turned away again. "No, thanks," he said coldly. "I can take care of myself. I think you should go, Kurt." Blaine knew he was being a sexually frustrated bitch, but damn it! Tonight was supposed to be so special, the night they'd remember for the rest of their lives and all that romantic blah-blah-blah Rachel and Tina kept spouting at Kurt. But Kurt couldn't deliver and if Blaine felt like letting his disappointment show, well, he was just being honest, right?

Kurt was devastated, but he didn't try to argue. He didn't want to upset Blaine any further. "Alright, I'll go," he said softly. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?" Still not looking at him, Blaine nodded silently. Kurt sighed heavily and got dressed. He looked back down at Blaine one last time. "I love you so much. You still take my breath away."

Kurt spent about five minutes sitting in his car in Blaine's driveway just crying. He was a terrible boyfriend. The sweetest, handsomest, most talented boy he'd ever met and Kurt couldn't satisfy him sexually. Eventually the tears subsided and Kurt gathered himself together enough to drive home. Making sure his door was shut and locked (this was one night he did not want Finn wandering in to brag about his latest Call of Duty score), Kurt opened his web browser and immediately went to one of those sites, to watch one of those movies. He blushed scarlet but forced himself to look at the screen. He wasn't being a pervert, this was research. He was doing this for Blaine, for them!

After watching a second and then a third, Kurt just scowled. What he saw on the screen looked pretty much like what he'd read about. Damn it! What was he doing wrong? He'd better get his act together and soon. What if Blaine ran out of patience? What if Blaine decided to dump him, or cheat on him with Mr. Craig's List?

And that's when a terrible thing happened. What if...? No, it was a horrible, outrageous, repulsive idea. How could he think such a thing for even a nanosecond? Kurt scrubbed his face, moisturized with care, climbed into bed and took care of his own 'needs', albeit with some residual amount of guilt.

But that horrible, outrageous, repulsive idea continued to float around in his head as he tossed and turned and tried in vain to sleep. The next morning Kurt overslept his alarm. When he did wake up, the horrible, outrageous, repulsive idea was still gnawing at him. He practiced his part of the mashup for Glee, singing and dancing both. He even went down to the shop to help his Dad out for a couple of hours. The idea went with him, it simply wouldn't leave him alone. Pushing it to the side, he finally got up his nerve to call Blaine in the mid-afternoon. They kept the conversation relatively neutral and relatively brief, talking about school and Glee, a little fashion chit-chat, and closed by reaffirming their love for one another. Family dinner that night was a decent distraction.

But as soon as he was up in his room and it was quiet – BAM! The idea was back. Stupid, friggin' idea! The night progressed pretty much exactly as the previous one had.

When morning came, an exhausted Kurt dragged himself out of bed and reached for his phone. Shaking his head in disbelief, he dialed the number.

"Sebastian? It's Kurt. Stop laughing, you jerk! I... um... I need to see you."