(I have a job now that's really inhibited me from writing like I want to. But I am hoping for 2014, I will stop making excuses and try to write more often, not saying for this story particularly, but in general I hope to write more. I hope to start a Wattpad and keep up on my Fictionpress as well, thank you for my followers!)
Somewhere in the darkest recesses of my remaining sanity I knew what it was like to fall, I could feel myself slipping, clawing for survival against a cliff face I could never climb. It was the seventh circle of hell and I… I- was fucking gay.
Jesus Christ. I was a faggot. I was everything I hated. Kurt was the encompassment of homosexuality, with his tight jeans, soft hair, doe eyes, and designer clothes.
Everybody accepted him, like he was born that way, born with that perfect, pert, little gay ass. But if I came out tomorrow there would be a shock so silent I would hear my reputation trickling away… along with every one of my friends.
Fuck Kurt, for being a slutty little cock sucker. Fuck him for getting up every day and accepting himself in the mirror. Fuck him. And leave it at that.
He trembled on the floor in front of me, a wreckage of the boy I'd used yesterday. My cock dug into his soft cheek and rubbed against the corner of his perfect mouth.
When did it all become so perfectly clear that we were both dying? Our days were running out. Sand in an hourglass. Maybe not today, or tomorrow… or next year, but somewhere down the line, all this would catch up with us.
I would carve his name into the shell, and shoot a bullet through the roof of my mouth, my last thought: him and only ever him. I would forgive myself that weakness.
They would wonder after I was gone why any man would take his own life. You see, he didn't want me. He cast the first stone into my heart. He threw his delicate hands against my chest and shoved me from him like I was the monster. Between the two of us, it HAS to be HIM.
Love me, Kurt, and all of this will be over. I wanted to say, but I know it's a lie. My heart is a war ground where kindness is a breath away from cruelty and love looks like a massacre.
I traced the head of my dick up and down the seam of his mouth and spread my precum deliciously, turning his lips shiny and soft. I held his hair tighter, till his eyes shut and his nose crinkled against the pain.
Why? Why didn't he fight back? One slingshot word could bring me down, Kurt. But he just lay there like a brutalized animal waiting for its next beating.
"That was your first time, wasn't it? Yesterday night?" I slapped myself against his face leisurely. As if it all meant nothing.
If I could lock him up with me forever I would. If I could ravish his body day and night, every perfect inch of it, I would. I wanted to feel his tender skin between my teeth, I wanted to dig my nails into his back till I left streaks of red against that flawless porcelain. I wanted to suck bruises and leave marks saying- I was here, goddammit. This was mine.
Even if it was only for a moment.
I loosened my grip on his hair and held his face in both of my large hands, cupping it. He was so exquisite. His eyes brimming with tears, his cheeks a soft pink blush. A beautiful broken angel. I traced the bridge of his delicate nose.
He found his voice, it came out as a bubble, his tongue barely forming the words. "If you…" He swallowed, "… I'll-I'll… b-bite it." His shoulders shuddered as he lay there on the public restroom floor, his clothes disheveled, his jeans so low on his body I could see the rise of his firm little ass.
I almost struck him, I could over power him. I could easily force him to comply, beat him into submission. I took a deep breath and let it out, still holding him.
"Sweetie pie, you can try." I guess a part of me knew that the second time around would require more power play, that the little bitch would try to be brave, but he'd already let me inside… and he would again.
I let him go, reaching into my shoe for the flip knife I'd packed this morning, just in case something like this would happen. "And if you do, I'll cut your mouth open first. Then I'll lay you on your stomach and carve "Cocksucker" so deep into your back no lover will ever want to touch you."
I pulled him towards me, one handed, to rub his face against my dick. Smearing his words right back into him. Clinically, I pushed the knife against his cheek, watching his soft skin redden against the sharpness of that edge. I released my hold on his hair to lift my dick against my stomach.
"Suck my balls, sweetie."
When he didn't move I dug the blade into his cheek so hard I could see the red blossom beneath his skin, and a trickle of blood skim down his pale skin to his chin.
I shoved his face into them roughly. "Suck them or I'll stick this knife in your fuck hole."
There it was.
I felt his tentative lips, and watched with predatory satisfaction as Kurt Hummel, looking all for the world like he was about to vomit all over the tile floor, started to suck. He looked so sick now that I had my knife to him. His face, pale, his eyes a glassy gray. The image of him there, tenderly nursing at my balls made me so hard the tip of my penis reddened with need.
I started to stroke my cock with my one free hand, making sure to tip the knife harder against his cheek, unable to tear my gaze away from the way his eyelids fluttered, the way his mouth licked at me and his hands shook. His terror was sick, and beautiful.
I bit my lip and jerked harder, letting out a gutteral groan under my breath. "Take them both inside... ahhhhnnnnn..." I spread his mouth and tipped myself inside, and felt his mouth close around me and suck. I was emersed in him.
I was out of rythmn pulling and working myself up to a frantic pace. "Fucking suck them..." I breathed, my eyes closing as I rode the ecstasy of the feeling. The waves of pleasure building up to what I needed from him.
"Gentle... gentle..." I said feeling him cough against me a little. "Almost..."
I pulled him off my balls with a wet sucking sound and grunted at the sight of the drool covering his chin and neck, a lowered my dick to his mouth still jerking.
"Suck the tip."
His blue eyes were a dull soft gray, the color of doves feathers, and his mouth was slack as he opened it for me and I shoved the head in.
"Lick right under the... ugh... fuck it faggot, just like that."
The little bitch knew my sweet spot, his tongue fluttering weakly against the underside of my ridge, driving me to the edge. I grabbed him by the hair and fucked into his mouth now, riding out the final moments of sweet oral sex.
Moaning every time he choked, slathered in his saliva and mucus I pumped visciously into his mouth before I felt my balls tighten and I pulled him to me, shoving into his throat, holding him there, letting him choke and gag, his body writhing behind as I felt my penis throb, ache, and throb again. I unloaded into him, squirting potently into the constrictive canal of his throat. it pulsed around me as he swallowed.
He choked again, gagging, and I pulled out... stroking his hair, his face was a gorgeous mess, tears on his cheeks, and great globs of saliva trailing down my cock, and his chin and face.
I sat there for a few moments, basking in the after glow of my orgasm while he pitched and cleared his throat, and spit up on the tile, trying to catch his breath.
I didn't move for a short while, marveling at my addiction to his innocence, to spilling his blood over and over again and feeling nothing at all. He was a ride in Disney world I just didn't want to get off.
He gasped on the floor like a fish out of water. His dark hair falling messily all over his face. Then he pushed himself onto his knees, wiping the drool from his mouth and looking me in the face with sleepless eyes.
"Are you done?" He asked in what I believed he had hoped would sound like a firm uncaring voice but came out as a tremulous gasp. He dabbed the tears from his cheeks with his sleeve, sniffing loudly.
I was slightly irritated by his tone.
"Maybe." I said, reaching down to stroke my dick lazily. I wanted to get it hard again. I wanted to put it deep inside him where I hadn't been yet, because that was the only unbreachable shelter he had left.
I grabbed his shirt hard, so hard he fumbled into my lap, his face so close to mine we almost knocked chins together, he looked away, but not before I sat up, my hands lowering to his hips. With a rough jerk I pulled him around hard shoving till he landed on his hands and knees. I grabbed him by the back of his neck and forced him down to the ground.
"Dave! NO! PLEASE NO!" the pitch of his cry was suddenly more than terrified, an octave I never heard him reach. His legs kicked out and he struggled so hard for a moment I wondered if I could really manage to hold him. But he wore quickly.
"Shhhh shhh shhhh Kurt."
I slid my hand around his hips, gently skimming the soft skin of his stomach before pushing my fingers under the waistband of his jeans and underwear, sliding down to cup him, with a nip to his perfect neck.