A glee-kink-meme fill.
PROMPT: Kurt decides to sit his boyfriend down and explain to him why he loves scat and/or watersports. Rather than being kinky, I'd like it to be about the vulnerability, and how Kurt is essentially bearing his heart to boyfriend hoping that he'll be accepted, not rejected. Bonus! For: Kurt crying, a bit, out of fear and emotional tenderness; and of course, the boyfriend comforting him and completely accepting him.
Warning: There are graphic mentions/descriptions of fantasies (written in italics) involving scat and watersports (urine play). Also, kink shaming.
AN: A huge thank you for vkdemon, for helping with with the ending!
Kurt sits up abruptly before he's even fully awake. His consciousness springs back to him with a rash of images from his last dream. He sucks in a breath and tugs the comforter high up his chest, staring wide eyed into the dark room. He reluctantly reaches under the comforter and presses his palm to the groin, biting his lip to stop himself form moaning. He's so hard and so close, the material of his sleeping pants already damped with precum.
It's the same dream over again, the same wicked scenario, changing slightly every so often, and he's woken up again with the familiar feeling of self-disgust, loading his stomach like a meal he can't digest.
He looks over at the motionless bulk of his boyfriend hidden under the cover, and sighs in relief when it turns out the other man wasn't alarmed by Kurt's sudden awakening.
He wants to press to that broad back, wake Dave up and have a sleepy sex full of languid, wet kisses and tangled limbs. But it feels wrong and inappropriate, because Dave doesn't know and can not ever know what kind of storylines creep into Kurt's dreams in the middle of the night. His mind supplies Kurt a vision of Dave finding out about this fantasy, and it sends a shiver of fear though the man.
Dave is a heavy sleeper and Kurt used to tease him about it, but it turns out to be an advantage when Kurt slides out from under the cover that night and rushes to the bathroom. He closes the door silently, nervous fingers having problem with locking them, but finally, he manages to turn the key and heads to the shower.
He tugs the pants down hastily. They fall to his ankles and Kurt slumps in the shower, the hard surface connects with his knees. He closes his eyes, as he starts jerking off, the images from his sleep are flying under his lids.
He's on the bed, pressed down into the mattress with Dave's weight, into the wet spot where he pissed himself earlier. Dave's lips are on his ear and his hot breath gusts Kurt's jaw as he pants Kurt's name, rubbing against his side. Kurt can feel the cock, thick and heavy against his ass. Dave's hand is there too, his finger probing at Kurt's hole through the layer of material.
"Come on, babe. Let go for me."
Kurt shudders and bites his bottom lip. His hand speeds up, pumping the cock rapidly.
"Come on. Let it stretch your little hole for me." Dave whispers in the dream and Kurt moans loudly. His bowels begin to move, a large shit making its way to his clenched asshole. Kurt tenses his muscles, pushing it out. The piece of shit slides out of him slowly and he can feel the brick tenting his briefs. Dave's hand presses flat against it through the material, smearing it over his cheeks. The mass makes his briefs stick to his skin. Dave reaches under him and grabs his cock, jerking him off fast until
Kurt comes hard all over his hand and groin, a startled cry rips from his throat. He turns his head towards the door and listens intently, but the small apartment is silent and forgiving. He sits in the cabin for a moment, breathing heavily to calm himself down. His heart is still clattering like crazy in his chest as he turns the water on to wash the cum off his hand and thighs. He then wipes himself off, pulls the pants back on and turns to head out of the bathroom.
Kurt sneaks back into the bedroom and under the cover, snuggling against Dave's side. His boyfriend is snoring softly, peaceful and wonderfully oblivious.
Kurt found some relieving balance between having sex with Dave and then letting his thoughts wander uncensored when he's alone.
It had became a routine, of sorts.
Dave's lips are a hot, wet suction on his neck and Kurt turns his head to give him a better access. Dave leans slightly up to shift his weight on the side and so he won't crash the smaller man.
Kurt whines at the loss of pressure, and fists his hands in the fabric of Dave's t-shirt to pull him down. Their tongues connect again and the wide, warm palm makes its way under Kurt's sweater. Kurt releases the abused material of the other man's clothing and slides his hands down Dave's body, enjoying the feel of firm muscles under his palms. He rest them on Dave's ass and rolls his hips up to rub their erections together.
Dave moans Kurt's name and a delicious desperation is present in this sound. Their bodies undulate lazily and it feels amazing and amiss at the same time, and Kurt wants more, more, more.
Kurt's thoughts escape him on the forbidden territory and before he gets a grip of them, the imaginings supplied by his dreams stealth into his mind: the pictures of him wetting himself (the liquid soaks through the material of his jeans, gluing them to his skin, large spot more visible with every moment), Dave making him beg for relief (those large hands keeping him in place until he can't hold it any longer and loses all control), and...
Dave picks this moment to reach for his crotch, he grabs Kurt's dick through the pants and rubs it his hands over it. Kurt shudders violently, sobs and comes hard beneath the other man. Dave stops his movements and looks down at him in confusion.
"...you...already...?"
Yes, Kurt thinks the moment his mind focuses enough to form any coherency and pushes at Dave chest. He slides from under the other man and tries to stand up, but his legs are fucking trembling, so he stays on the couch and hugs himself instead.
"Hey, come on, it's okay. Kinda flattering even." Dave chuckles and Kurt wants him to stop being so damn smug, because if Dave only knew why Kurt got off so fast, Kurt's fairy sure he wouldn't laugh at all.
Kurt pries himself away from the arms trying to embrace him. He feels he crossed a barrier that wasn't his to cross. He dragged Dave into something he's certain the man would never consent to, and Kurt knows he can't leave it like that, but it's all so sudden, too fast.
"Is everything alright? Babe?"
Kurt opens his mouth to give the standard, reassuring answer, but it comes a little too late to sound truthful. Dave's face falls, a familiar wrinkle of insecurity appears between his knitted eyebrows.
Kurt really wants to confess something. Just one bit. The words scratch the back of his throat, tickling and ready to surface. He stares at Dave, desperately trying to come up with a way to start.
"Okay, forget it." Dave says. He adjusts his jeans awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable, and reaches for the remote control, leaning back on the couch.
And just like that, the moment is broken. The TV starts playing, pouring other people's problems into their apartment, and drowning out their own.
The air between them gets more tense with unspoken suspicions every time Kurt comes up with an excuse to not have sex.
If someone told him five years ago about the cold stings of fear at the thought of losing one Dave Karofsky, Kurt would burst out laughing. Five years ago Kurt's universe was Dave-less. Now Dave seems to take over more and more of Kurt's life. Funny how things work out sometimes. He can't imagine living without Dave, but he knows he can't be with him without coming clean.
He sits down next to Dave on the couch, grabs the remote and turns off the TV. Dave frowns at him, but keeps quiet, sensing the stiff atmosphere. Moments pass but Kurt doesn't know what to say. Which is unusual for him, because he always was such a good raconteur. But now, the syllables appear to have a consistency of molasses. They are sticking to Kurt's tongue, so hard to get out. He stumbles upon words, stutters through sentences, but the truth is finally out. It hangs in the air between them like a smog, heavy and suffocating. Kurt catches a shift in his peripheral vision and dares a glance at Dave.
"Wow." It's all Dave manages at first. "That's pretty extreme." Dave says and it's there. Kurt sees it in the way his boyfriend clears his throat nervously, and sits up straighter. Kurt sees it in his eyes. Tear drops on his folded hands and it's only then, when he realizes he's crying.
"Wait, Kurt, fuck." Dave holds him, and Kurt sinks into the broad chest.
"I'm not saying anything." He hears. "It's just... that's kind of..."
"Gross." Kurt supplies. He doesn't feel Dave shaking his head. There's only the silence, more confirming than ever.
Kurt escapes the embrace. He sits up and wipes his face on the sleeve. Judging by the level of concern in Dave's eyes he must look disgusting. He feels disgusting.
He moves to stand up and turns his back to Dave. "Just forget it, okay?" He comes up to the window and stares at the street covered by a thick layer of snow. It's quite beautiful. Flawless. Pure.
Another silent moment is awkwardly stretching between them, until Dave asks, "People actually do that?"
Kurt lets out a choked laugh. "Yes. Some."
"But... why?" He hears and the sheer curiosity in his boyfriend's voice surprises him enough to turn around.
Dave's genuinely wondering. Kurt smiles sadly. He wishes he knew the answer. He wishes he could catch the reason and strangle it. Maybe it would make him feel more normal. He thinks for a moment about the question though. He recalls the stress and the nights in work and the constant feeling that he's eventually going to screw up something big, and Shirley comparing him to better designers, and the lack of promotion last year that still makes him bitter.
"Too much pressure." He says surprising himself.
"Too much pressure." Dave repeats, turning the words on his tongue. He seems to taste them warily, trying to gauge if he can understand.
Kurt sighs quietly and comes back to him. "I guess I find it titillating that I can lose all control. Over everything, even most basic functions. For once not being able to decide for myself."
Dave stands up, takes him in his arms again and nuzzles his neck with his nose. "Give me some time?"
Kurt tenses. "Time for what?" Pack. Wave him goodbye. Leave.
Dave shrugs. "Aw, fuck if I know. Get used to the idea, I guess? I don't think I can do something like what you said right away, you know."
"You... what?"
"If it's important for you, I'll give it a try." Dave says casually, as if they were talking about trying out one of the clothes Kurt sometimes picks up for him, and not about his greatest insecurity.
"You're not... grossed out by me?"
Dave takes his hand and brushes his thumb over his knuckles. "No." He looks down and swallows. "Well, I can't say I'm completely down with that idea, but... I could never be grossed out by you." He says looking up.
Kurt feels the air escaping him and the next breath is almost painful. "You... don't know what are you getting yourself into."
And he's serious. He should have known. Of course Dave would react that way. Dave's going to be sweet and heart-melting with his acceptance of everything Kurt throws his way, and then runs away when the ugly reality turns out too much for him to handle.
"You don't want to do this."
Dave's forehead rests on his and he feels an arms sneaking around his waist to bring him closer.
"Let me decide what I want, okay?"
"I don't want you to feel like you have to put up with my... weirdness."
"You had to deal with me fucking you with my shirt on for the first six times. I'm pretty sure this qualifies as one weird-ass thing to put up with." Dave leans back smirking.
Kurt's lips involuntarily stretch into a ghost of a smile at the memory of their battles about Dave's insecurities.
"That's not relevant."
"It's more than relevant." Dave says and cups Kurt's chin. "If you could handle me then, I can handle you now. Let me try at least."
Kurt takes a deep breath and gives a small nod. "I love you." He mumbles leaning in and hiding his face into Dave's shirt, so he won't have to answer. He's still not sure if this isn't going to turn out a total disaster.
But for now he allows himself to be happy.
