Redemption (Kurt, Kurofsky) - NC-17

Story: Redemption – Part 5/6
Chapter: ­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­Research – part 1 and 2
Fandom: Glee
Author: ibshafer
Rating: NC-17!!
Character/Pairing: Kurt/Karofsky
Disclaimer: I don't own these people, they own themselves and are just nice enough to let me spin them around the page now and then.
Summary: …the waiting is over… This is it!
Warnings: well, it’s NC-17, so that sort of says it all, I think…
A/N: The author does not in any way condone bullying or any form of aggression towards homosexuals, or anyone else, for that matter.

Research
- ibshafer

 
“Hey - you okay?”

Dave was sitting with his back against the wall, hugging his own knees, and even in the wan light filtering over from the television as the end credits played, Kurt could see that his face was flushed and his eyes were wide, barely blinking.

“Kurt to Meathead,” Kurt said with a grin. “Anyone alive in there?”

Giggling, he bumped Karofsky’s shoulder with his own and Karofsky responded with a start.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” he said, voice flat as Kansas, still staring at the TV, now white with snow.

Uh-huh.

Maybe this hadn’t been the best idea after all…

It’d been a month since they’d decided to “take it slow,” and after countless ‘almosts’ in the backs of both their cars, and the decreasing frequency of Kurt’s flashbacks (and accompanying freakouts), they’d reached the mutual conclusion that it was time…

They were ready.

Well, almost ready.

Kurt may have been…untried, aside from their frequent make-out sessions, but he’d known what he was for as long as he could remember and had been doing…research for almost as long.

Dave, on the other hand, was as “green” as they came.

And that was why, on a weekend when Dave’s parents were out of town at a wedding (that Dave had feigned illness to get out of, mind you…) and Kurt had told his father he was staying with Blaine for a couple days (to work on a duet they were doing for Regionals), Kurt had burned a few of his favorite…um, movies onto DVD, packed a bag, and headed across town. To Dave’s house.

Dinner eaten – salad for Kurt, steak for Dave (was it just too cute that they could split a meal that way?) – and small talk talked, they’d retreated to Dave’s sports-themed bedroom, turned out all the lights, and popped in the DVD…

That was ninety minutes ago and though the room had been filled with heavy breathing and all manner of moaning…none of it had been theirs.

Not that Kurt hadn’t tried.

He leaned his head on Dave’s shoulder. He put his hand on Dave’s thigh. He even, taking a cue from some silly TV show he’d seen, leaned across Dave’s lap to grab a tissue from the night stand on Dave’s side of the bed.

Nothing.

Well, not completely nothing.

Dave had gasped and recoiled as though Kurt were made of fire.

And then he’d pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them like they were his wubbie or something.

So Kurt had left him alone.

Even though Kurt was all kinds of hot and bothered right now and really, if Dave had asked, Kurt would have said he’d seen plenty – hadn’t
Dave, by now? – and all he really wanted was to tear Dave’s clothes off and have at it already.

But Dave didn’t look good. And so Kurt had left him alone.

With the movie over, and Dave still looking sick, Kurt was beginning to worry that maybe that boy wasn’t gay after all…

Leaning over, Kurt kissed Dave’s muscled and bared upper arm. “You don’t look fine to me, love. You look like you’re going to puke.”

Karofsky’s back was still straight, flat against the wall, and he was still staring at that TV screen even though there was nothing on it but snow now.

Kurt was starting to get really worried.

“Look, maybe this was a bad idea,” he said, softly, and began to slide off the bed. “Maybe we’re not ready after all. Maybe—”

Dave had grabbed at the back of his sweater, stopping Kurt’s slide across Dave’s blue/grey Navy Football comforter.

“That’s not it.” Dave’s voice was flat, strained.

He hadn’t let go of Kurt’s sweater and rather than have the hissy over his couture he might under different circumstances, Kurt just slid back onto the bed, slid back over to that big body, and leaned in.

“Still gay,” he asked, hopefully, keeping his hands to himself, just in case the answer was “no.”

Silent, Dave swallowed hard and nodded.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Kurt kissed Dave’s arm again and began stroking Dave’s thigh, pleased to have skin to deal with for a change.
(Dave had changed into shorts and a tank when they’d gotten back from dinner.) “Maybe this was just a shock for you. Maybe you didn’t realize what it was…you know, all about before?”

Dave hadn’t moved and Kurt was feeling bold (…and the movie had put some ideas into his head…) so he slipped his hand past Dave’s thigh, over to Dave’s—

Oh…

“You’re not okay, are you?”

Karofsky swallowed again, but said nothing and while Kurt felt badly, Karofsky was clearly very uncomfortable, he just couldn’t pull his hand back. In fact, he had given up fighting the urge and was now—

“Dude! Mercy?” Karofsky’s hoarse voice was stricken.

Kurt bit his lip. The choice was to laugh or to yell in frustration and Kurt sensed that laughing might be counterproductive, so…

“You act like we weren’t about to have sex, anyway!” He sighed heavily, squeezing the hot bulge beneath his hand for emphasis. “I don’t understand what the problem is.”

Finally, Dave looked at him. “The problem? The problem is that…is that I don’t want to hurt you, Kurt!” The panic was back in his eyes.

Now Kurt was laughing. “Hurt me? Why would you hurt me?”

At this, Dave just glared and when Kurt wouldn’t look away, or stop laughing, Dave let go of his knees and slid his feet down to the end of the bed. Wincing, not breaking eye contact with Kurt, he hooked his thumbs into the elastic of his shorts, pulled up, then down, and as though a torment had finally been released, he breathed a shuddering sigh of relief.

Kurt wasn’t laughing anymore.

Eyes glued, lips tingling, he was pretty sure his face was as white as a sheet.

“Shit,” he said, then, “oh, my god…”

Now they were both completely focused on Dave’s penis…

“I’m afraid I’m not gonna be able to hold back and…and this is your first time, too.” He reached up a big hand and touched Kurt’s shoulder softly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Kurt licked his lips once, twice.

Raising a perfectly arched brow, he forcibly pulled his eyes away.

“Speaking from my experience,” Kurt began, looking Dave in the eye with a grin. “I mean, from my years of watching gay porn, you, my fine hunk of man, are not going to last that long anyway.”

He could see Dave about to ask a question he was pretty sure was going to be, ‘what do you mean?’, but he never got the chance, because a second later, Kurt had pushed Dave’s hands away and buried himself in his lap… 

 

~*~*~*~

Oh, god, oh, wow, oh, god, oh, wow…

He was lost to the heat, the scent, the sheer audacity of what he was doing.

If a year ago anyone had told him he’d be willingly giving Dave Karofsky, his bully, his tormentor, the bane of his very existence, what was for both of them a first blowjob, he’d have asked them what drugs there were on and then told them to go hell away.

But that was before a lot of big milestones; before he’d come to see the sweet (yes, sweet!) and scared kid beneath all the bravado.

They’d come a long way since a parking lot confession, a risky phone call, and a meeting in a greasy diner in Cridersville, but none of that was going through Kurt’s mind right now.

Right now, all he could think about was…how much better it was to be doing this, than watching someone else do it in a video.

Dave was so hard right now, Kurt kept thinking he was going to break it off, but Dave didn’t seem to be minding at all, in fact he was pretty sure Karofsky was crying…

In the past few weeks, as they’d danced closer and closer to the precipice he was pretty sure they were about to fall over, he’d had the opportunity to feel the…magnitude of Dave’s…feelings for him, but even those tactile glimpses, heat pressed against his thigh in the backseat of the Jeep, pinned between them up against the side of the diner where they still met occasionally, hadn’t prepared him to what was sure to always be, for him, the ultimate full-monty. Broad, hard, and so hot, Kurt couldn’t get over the feeling of it in his mouth. Inhaling deeply, his tongue dancing and his moans uncontrollable, his only regret was how little of it he could actually get—

[We interrupt our previously scheduled episode of Extreme Pornography: Kurt Hummel Edition for an Urgent Report from our Eye in the Sky. Let’s tune in to our cameraman for a Dave’s-Eye-View…]

Oh, wow, oh, god, oh, wow, oh, GOD…

Dave could barely see through the freaking tears of bliss, but he could still make out that sweet mouth as it circled him, sliding from tip to mid-mast and back, tongue skating along the flared edge, poking at the throbbing v—

OH, GOD, OH, GOD, OH, GOD!!

He stopped himself from the erotic narration, sure that if he didn’t, he’d lose it too soon, and instead turned his focus from that bobbing mane of thick brown waves – so soft! – to the tight little curve of a gently bouncing rump. He found himself wondering if the skin of that rump was as smooth and as sweet as he’d always fantasized.

Realizing that he had hands for a reason, he moved to cup one rounded hemisphere in his palm, all too quickly finding himself impatient with the plush navy velvet he’d been so thrilled with earlier.

In the way. So, so in the way…

He had just slipped a couple fingers beneath the smooth, heavy fabric when his attention was forcibly yanked back to…

The angel in his lap – and his very creative tongue – had discovered there was more to life than the…main event, and Dave had looked back to find those beautiful lips closed around his left sac while one smooth hand jacked his length far too insistently.

When the angel looked up to see him watching and smiled around his mouthful, Dave whimpered a warning…and lost it.

[We take you now to our Man on the Scene, Kurt Hummel…]

He’d pulled off just in time for the show, pleased beyond reckoning that he had; thick, milky ropes striped Dave’s broad torso, pearls glistening against the smooth, muscled expanse of his abdomen, settling into the valley between the left and right.

Above him, Dave’s face was wet with sweat and bliss, and his smile was blinding.

“Better, Angel,” Kurt asked breathlessly, hand still on the rudder.

In answer, Dave pulled his fingers from inside Kurt’s tight velvet Varvatos jeans, and dragged him up to face-level, hand in Kurt’s hair and mouth mobile and appreciative against his.

After a few moments of breathless “thank you’s”, Dave finally stopped sucking on Kurt’s lower lip and pulled back, eyes half-lidded.

“Better,” he said, voice a growl. “but now it’s your turn…”

The last thing Kurt heard before the world shifted under him, was the sound of his resistant zipper, tight against his own need, and Dave Karofky’s shouted and gleeful “oh, yeah!”…

Tbc…