Title: Julian Larson is a Whore
Author: br33_br33/Sparkylovesfire/taweesha
Pairing: There will be different pairings for the different chapters. This one is Julian/Dwight (Dwulian)
Rating: M
Word Count: 1,279

Warnings: Slight OOCness, because in Dalton canon Julian would probably never be with most of these boys. XD

Summary: Julian Larson is a whore.

Author's Note: No regrets. Just whoring Julian out.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, Dalton, Julian, or Dwight. Glee belongs to Fox, everything else to CP Coulter.

Dwight Houston is hurrying class when it happens.

"Hello, Dwight," a voice, smooth as silk, calls. Dwight looks over his shoulder to see Julian Larson slinking towards him, hips swaying slightly.

"Julian," Dwight says concisely. Once Julian is right in front of him, maybe a step or two away, Dwight's hand unconsciously slides into a small pocket of his messenger bag. The glint in Julian's eyes, that smirk, just his entire demeanor makes Dwight feel…uneasy. Plus, Julian's caught him under a staircase—a shortcut to class—so Dwight had better be prepared to defend himself against anything Julian (whom Dwight firmly still believes is not of this world) might try.

"What are you doing here?" Julian asks innocently. Dwight's eyes narrow.

"Just…heading to class. What else would I—" The bell signaling class rings, sharp and clear. Dwight curses. "Look, I gotta go." He turns to leave, but Julian's hand clutches the sleeve of his blazer.

"But you're already late," Julian says. "No need to rush." Julian moves even closer, and Dwight's skin starts prickling as his hunter senses take complete control.

"Get back! Back demon!" Dwight shouts, throwing a handful of salt at Julian. Julian steps back, expression incredulous.

"Really? Did you just throw salt at me?"

"Yes. I'll break out the holy water next if you don't let me be," Dwight says, standing up as straight as possible in hopes of seeming threatening.

Julian simply laughs. "You're actually kind of cute. Insane and delusional. But cute."

"Get away from me!"

"I'm not going to hurt you," Julian says sweetly. "I just…I want to try something."

"Try somthing?"

"Yeah. You'll benefit from it to. Scout's honor." Julian holds up three fingers and makes his best puppy face.

Dwight doesn't buy it for a second. "I don't make deals with the spawns of Satan."

"Oh, that actually stung a little," Julian feigns being offended, hand resting over his heart. "You don't even know what I was going to say."

"It doesn't matter. You and every other Stuart are bad news."

"Dwight—" Julian tries to touch Dwight once again, but the younger boy jumps back.

"I said get away!"

"Look, Houston, I wouldn't be after you if I thought I had other options," Julian practically growls. He moves forward swiftly, pinning Dwight against the wall. Dwight's hand fumbles to find a vial of holy water, but freezes along with his thought process as Julian's lips crash into his in a rough parody of a kiss. The older boy pushes against him, and Dwight moans, feeling oddly aroused and freaked out.

When Julian breaks away, Dwight's eyes are wide.

"I'm a fantastic kisser, I know," Julian says with a shrugs before dropping to his knees and undoing Dwight's belt.

"Wait wha—what?" Dwight stammers out, lips still tingling.

"Shh, just let me," Julian says, tugging Dwight's pants down to mid-thigh. The younger boy's underwear follows, exposing his cock to the cool air. Julian's smile widen before he leans forward and pecks the head lightly.

"Stop!" Dwight gasps, looking around quickly. "You can't dothat here—"

"Watch me," Julian says, his warm breathe washing over Dwight and causing the younger boy to groan. Then Julian's lips part of the head, sucking lightly as if Dwight's cock were a lollipop.

"We shouldn't be—you don't even like me," Dwight murmurs as Julian takes all of him in, humming cheerily. It's so—so different. Dwight's never had a blowjob before. He's only used to the bumps and ridges on his own hand, the ability to control the pace. Not the wet warmth of someone's mouth around him, not of someone being able to manipulate his pleasure.

Julian's teeth graze against the skin slightly, and Dwight makes a high pitched squeak, fingers of one hand curling into Julian's wavy brown hair and the others clutching the strap of his bag tighter. "God, don't stop."

"I won't," Julian says, but it's muffled by Dwight's member stretching his lips, so it comes out garbled and sends a strange trill up Dwight's spine. Dwight lets out a small series of little pants, and Julian chooses that moment to start bobbing his head up and down, tongue running along the underside of Dwight's cock.

"Ohh," Dwight sputters. "I can't—I—" Julian smiles, a grin that actually scares Dwight, and he shoves Dwight's hips back with his hands, keeping him pinned against the wall completely as he forces Dwight's cock as far down his throat as it will go. Julian holds him there, muscles fluttering in way that's practically sinful—at least in Dwight's opinion—until the overwhelming pleasure of release pulses through Dwight, causing tremor after to tremor to radiate from his cock. It's so much more potent than any orgasm he's had before, his entire body shaking as he tries to regain his breathe. Julian pulls off with a wet pop, swallows, innocently, as if what just happened hadn't happened, and tucks Dwight back into his boxers just as the air becomes painful cold. He zips and buttons his pants before standing up, Dwight's eyes never leaving him.

"Told you you'd like it," he says smugly. Dwight opens his mouth to speak when Julian cuts him off, "Now get to class, Houston, before I report you for playing hooky or something."

"You'd get in trouble to," Dwight huffs.

"No, I have study period right now. I'll just say I was going to the bathroom." Dwight's not listening at this point, staring at the obscene white dab of come on the corner of Julian's mouth. "What?"

"Uh…You have, um…" Dwight can't seem to find the right words, so he simply motions is, pointing to the same spot of his own face.

Dwight's cheek heat up as Julian takes the hint and wipes away the come from the corner of his mouth with his thumb, a small grin playing on his lips.

"See you, Houston," he says with a wink. Dwight watches him as he goes, eyes unconsciously tracing the outline of the actor's ass. Dwight palms at his cock, groaning at the pleasant pain of trying to get hard right after coming.

It isn't until Julian round the corner that Dwight remembers that he's now extremely late for class. He tucks his shirt back into his pants and secures his belt once more, and then runs the rest of the way to his class, almost fifteen minutes late.

He bursts through the door, cutting Murdoch off mid-lecture.

"Well, Mr. Houston. It's nice to see you've decided to join us," The teacher scoffs at him. "Please, take your seat. Be sure to stay after class so I can give you your detention assignment."

"Yes, Mr. Murdoch," Dwight says obediently. Once the disgruntled man gives him a jerky nod, Dwight hurries to the back of the classroom, ignoring one boy's offhanded comment about how Dwight was probably preforming some sort of exorcism on his binder. He plops down in his seat next to Shane, eyes trained the floor in front of him.

The younger Anderson brother gives him a funny look.

"Where were you?" Shane asks. "You're never late to class."

Dwight blushes. "I—um…I forgot my book. Had to go back and get it."

"Oh," Shane says, hardly sounding convinced. But he drops the subject and turns his attention back to Murdoch. Dwight exhales softly before pulling out a piece of paper and a pencil. Some kids are still whispering about his grand entrance, and the fact that he looks completely disheveled, and Murdoch continues to send glares his way.

But Dwight decides, as he thinks back to what happened underneath the staircase, it's completely worth it.