Author's Note: I am so sorry for the wait. Life hit me in the face with pre-band camp and then Band Camp took so much out of me this year. I still have to finish my summer homework (that I'm currently avoiding to write this) and I've just had no inspiration to actually write anything. I up-dated my Malec fanfiction the other day, and now here's this.
"Howl" by Florence and the Machine is not mine. I own nothing but the plot. I was listening to this song and I realized how much it fit into what I wanted to write in this chapter.
LAST THING BEFORE YOU READ: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS HATE-SEX. EVERYTHING IS CONSENTUAL AND THIS SEX IS GAY! (Irrelevant thing to add but just in case it wasn't obvious)
I also have not written sex in about a year or so now…? I'm not sure, but it's been a while and I've never written hate-sex, so bear with the 17-year old female virgin: 3
If you could only see the beast you've made of me
I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free
Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart
drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart
My fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in
You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to howl
My fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in
You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to
Howl, howl
Howl, howl
Now there's no holding back, I'm making to attack
My blood is singing with your voice, I want to pour it out
The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound
I hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallow'd ground
like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
I want to find you tear out all your tenderness
And howl, howl
Howl, howl
Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers
Starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters
Hunters, hunters, hunters
Hunters, hunters, hunters
The fabric of your flesh, pure as a wedding dress
Until I wrap myself inside your arms I cannot rest
The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound
I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallow'd ground
And howl
Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers
Starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters
A man who's pure of heart and says his prayers by night
May still become a wolf when the autumn moon is bright
If you could only see the beast you've made of me
I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free
The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound
I hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallow'd ground
-Howl
Florence and the Machine
Blaine was training Kurt, well; training him would not be the word Kurt would use to describe what Blaine was doing. It was more like "using Kurt as a punching bag because Blaine is pissed off" and Kurt was just as pissed. He didn't know what the hell was going on, but it was getting old really fast.
Kurt dodged another blow, side-stepping to avoid the second that followed it.
"Is that all you're going to do? Dodge your opponent the whole time? Or are you going to fucking do something already?" Blaine growled and Kurt blocked another hit.
They each held a dagger in their hands and Blaine was acting oddly. Yes, Kurt realized Blaine had major issues with him, but normally he would actually be sparring with him. This time it seemed like all Blaine wanted to do was carve up his face.
Kurt stopped the narrow point of Blaine's dagger with his own and instead of pushing away, as he did before, Kurt sliced through the air with the dagger not delaying Blaine's and managed to slice against the fabric covering Blaine's shoulder. He managed to cut through a few layers of skin, blood already seeping its way through the fabric and bright against his skin. Normally, Kurt would feel at least a little guilt, but Blaine was acting like a complete asshole and he could heal easily enough, and it wouldn't scar. Unfortunately, it only pissed Blaine off further and Kurt was attacked with even more agility and force than before and he struggled to keep up.
He nearly lost his footing, once, and Blaine let out a stabbing, hollow laugh.
That was the final push.
Kurt regained his perfect balance and shot forward until he had Blaine hard pressed against the nearest wall. He was mindful of the daggers that were still held in Blaine's hands but Kurt, with the arm pressing up against Blaine's chest, held his own dagger steady, precariously nudging Blaine's throat. A twitch and he could leave him bleeding out on the floor. Even a vampire would struggle and die with a knife cutting through his jugular.
"What they hell is your problem," Kurt demanded, his voice was unsteady from trying to catch his breath, he had lost most of his energy pinning Blaine, but he managed to keep his tone forceful, "What have I done to you that makes you hate me so much? I think I've proven that I can defend myself from any of you."
Blaine let out a hollow laugh, "Like with your little boyfriend?" He spat, "He was human and he pushed you around like you were nothing."
Kurt's eyes iced over, "What you saw-"
"What about before that? Huh? Out of practice, sure, I can see someone like you struggling, but fresh out of training. Fuck that. There was no way you were as good as they made you out to be if you couldn't even protect yourself."
"Shut up, just fucking shut up," his hand was shaking, "You don't know anything about me. You don't get to judge me. I don't care what bullshit happened in your life, before or after it ended, but it doesn't give you the right to-"
"To what? To what, Kurt? To speak the truth? That you were weak, pathetic, a victim? It's what you are-"
"Shut up. I'm not the one who's fucking dead. I'm still alive," Kurt gave smirk, "And from what I can see, I'm the one holding you here now aren't I?"
Blaine's eyes flickered and for a second Kurt saw what he was going to do the moment for he did, but he was still too weak from the rigorous fight and Kurt found his arm twisted until he was forced to drop the knife.
His back connected with the hard stone, his wrists quickly pinned there as well. Kurt noticed that he had dropped his weapons, and so had Blaine while he was escaping from Kurt's hold.
Blaine smirked and Kurt wanted to punch him, "Now who has the upper hand?"
Kurt swallowed deeply and opened his mouth to retort back, only to be caught off with Blaine's mouth crashing into hips lips. Caught off guard Blaine assaulted his mouth, tasting, sucking, until Kurt caught up with him and fought back. Then it was teeth clicking together, a sharp pain as nails dug into wrists, and a plight for dominance. Blaine pushed himself further into Kurt, chest pressing into chest, slipping a leg roughly between Kurt's thighs, rubbing their clothed erections together, both gasping at the friction but neither willing to relinquish their struggle for power.
Managing to break his wrists from the restrictions of Blaine's hand Kurt's used his free hands to claw at the shirt separated his hands from cold skin. Hissing with frustration the fabric ripped apart, falling in over stretched pieces onto the floor. Blaine stole his opportunity and ended their kiss, mouthing down Kurt's jaw until he found where shoulder met neck and bit down, licking and suckling the warm flesh beneath his teeth, groaning as he felt nails dig into his shoulder blades, trailing down to the muscles on his lower back and up, closing in and digging deep into his shoulders. To even the score he trailed to the hollow of Kurt's throat, attacking it with the same raw attention as his pulse point.
Blaine's hands began to wander; fumbling under the worn undershirt Kurt wore, groping his hips, digging his fingers into the skin, where he knew there would be fresh imprints, bruises and contusions, the next day.
Kurt's head was a haze of smoke and mirrors. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he shouldn't be doing this, especially not with Blaine. Who was a vampire, who he hates, who hates him. But that was all lost to him as the remains of their clothes were discarded and teeth were clashing again. He could feel cold hands gripping his thighs, pushing him further into the wall as he himself lifted himself onto Blaine, ankles crossed, nails ripping and tearing through frozen flesh, blood dancing on his nails. Kurt could feel his own blood, heated and on fire as it rose to the top layers of skin, dangerously close to spilling out, but never crossing that line.
Only a hiss of pain escaped his mouth once Blaine thrust two fingers into him, opening him up and stretching him for his cock. It had been so long since he'd last had sex and he was tight. Then it's the burning sensation of Blaine's cock thrusting into his ass and it's stretching him wide and filling him up and there isn't a second to catch his breath and adjust before Blaine is pulling out and thrusting back into his body, this time hitting against Kurt's prostate, eliciting a pleasured, high-pitched, moan from his throat. The pain of the angle and Blaine's cock, now laced with the pleasure of every thrust hitting against his prostate, pushing him further to the edge and past the haze.
He feels Blaine's movements become jerky and out of synch and he knows Blaine's close, so is he. Kurt feels Blaine mouthing something, the air brushing up against his ear, but he's too out of it to understand a word. He hears Blaine moan, throaty and deep and Kurt feels it too, throwing his head back, exposing his long throat as he sends out a high -pitched scream, clenching onto Blaine's cock as he orgasms, pulling Blaine into his own orgasm.
It's after the fog settles from both of their minds and pull away from each other that they realize what they've done.
Blaine is the first one to recover, tossing on his pants haphazardly he goes to reach out, fingers grazing Kurt's face, like a whisper of breath, before he pulls back, eyes bright and full of something Kurt can't place, not then.
A drawn out, "Shit," is all Kurt can make out before Blaine is running and is gone.
Author's Note: So foreplay, I seem to be okay at that (I think). Sex? I don't know. Tell me what you think. Constructive criticism is welcome.
Also, I wrote this in like, three hours, and I'm too excited to check over this, so any mistakes are all mine, I apologize if they're glaring mistakes.
Lots Of Love