The sun reflecting from his brand new Gucci shades, Kurt Hummel stepped out of his father's shimmering black Mercedes and inhaled deeply… and almost threw up as the stench of hay, warm animal flesh and mud filled his nostrils. Resisting the urge to heave up all over the grass, he ducked back into the car and slammed the door shut behind him.

"Father…" he scowled at the man in the front seat, "You cannot expect me to stay here in this… this… pigsty!" he spat angrily, glancing out his window in disgust.

"Kurt…" his father, like him he was dressed head to toe in designer attire, "This is not up for discussion."


"No, Kurt!" Burt Hummel snapped, at the end of his tether with his spoilt brat of a son. "You are going to get out of this car, you are going to spend your summer helping out at the Anderson's farm, and then" he raised his voice over his son's splutters of protest, "you will come home and you'll be a better man because of it. Got it?"

Kurt gave a scowl, knowing he was fighting a losing battle with his father. He huffed and crossed his arms, glancing out the window once again. The sky was a gorgeous blue, streaked with gold from the just risen sun, utterly cloudless. Kurt struggled to appreciate this as resting just under this was the one place on Earth Kurt wouldn't be caught dead in. The Anderson's Farm.

From Kurt's window there was field after field of cows, sheep, goats and all kinds of disgusting animals, munching on grass that was probably soaked with urine and droppings. He spotted a large barn with a tin roof, a small pigsty, surrounded by pigs coated in mud and their own filth. The farm also contained several fields of crops, a lake and a small cottage just outside of a large forest.

The urge to throw up returned.

"Kurt listen…" his father sighed, resting his hands on the steering wheel and watching his son through the rear-view mirror, "You've had an easy ride your whole life… I didn't get where I was by chance. I worked, Kurt. I worked my whole life to get where I am now and you're just enjoying the benefits. Well… that is going to change. You're going to work for those clothes, you're going to work for that big house we share, you're going to work for your phone and your Ipod and every other privilege you have. You're going to work for them like I have. So now you have a choice. You can get out this car and stay here for one summer, come back and continue your life as before only this time you'll appreciate it. Or you come home with me and I take away your clothes, your phone, your Ipod and you won't get them back until you get a real job to pay for them." He swivelled his body around to face Kurt, "Okay?"

Kurt looked away and crossed his arms tighter, but he didn't scowl. "… Fine." He muttered.

"Good boy." He father gave a small smile of relief, opening Kurt's door with the push of a button, "I hear they have a kid about your age too, you guys could be friends?"

Kurt gave his dad a look of both disgust and amusement, "Father I am not going to be making friends with some dirty, inbred farmer's boy!"

"Hey!" His father snapped, "Don't you dare talk about them like that! I've known Joseph Anderson since I was a kid and I won't have any talk like that about his son!"

"He's probably a dirty inbred too!" Kurt shrugged, climbing out the car. Burt sighed in frustration, but swallowed his anger. The boot snapped open with the touch of a button and Burt watched as his soon took slow and steady steps towards it, trying desperately hard not to get mud all over his shoes.

Taking a large suitcase in each hand, Kurt waddled over to the driver's window, struggling under the weight of all his clothes and other "essential" items.

"Be a good boy, Kurt." His father smiled up at Kurt's scowling face.

"I'll drown myself in pigswill first." came Kurt's snarky retort.

"Bye, son." Burt proceeded to wind up the window as Kurt turned to face his home for the summer. He could smell nothing but filth, hear nothing but animal noises and flies buzzing, see nothing but endless dirt and chores and mud and complete dullness.

"Oh, and Kurt!" he turned back to the car, "… try to have fun."

And with that, he was gone… and Kurt was trapped.

In the seven minute walk from his drop off point to the cottages front door, Kurt's shoes were as good as ruined. Grass stuck to the soles and they were spattered with muddy water. Kurt silently mourned their loss as he gave a loud, sharp knock on the blue panelled door, on which a sigh hung, reading 'Home is where the heart is'. Kurt knew where his heart was, and it sure wasn't here. Kurt's heart was back home, with his comforts and his friends, and of course his boyfriend Sebastian.

What would Sebastian think if he could see him now? The thought brought pangs of pain to Kurt's chest; oh god he missed him so much already… how was some dirty, smelly farmer boy supposed to replace his rich, well groomed, charming and confident boyfriend?

His mental dilemma was interrupted as the door swung open, revealing the man Kurt assumed was Joseph Anderson. He was almost exactly how Kurt imagined him; his black hair was unkept, shaggy and streaked with grey, his face lined with age, dressed in a flannel shirt with muddy blue dungarees. His face lit up in the biggest, toothiest smile upon the sight of the boy on his doorstep, adding more lines to his withered face.

"My stars! Kurt Hummel!" he cried out, laughing, "Come on up, come on in son, wipe your feet, now!" he ushered him inside and closed the door behind him. His bags were torn from his hands by the farmer, who was shouting something about heaviness and long journeys. Kurt wasn't listening, but was instead scanning the interior of the cottage.

It was… tiny. On one side of the room there was a small beige couch, an ancient looking rocking chair and an even more ancient looking TV. Woven coasters rested upon the white wood coffee table, which looked like it could collapse if anything heavier was placed upon it. An obviously handmade blanket was flung upon the rocking chair, and mismatched pillows decorated the couch. The other half of the room contained the tiniest kitchen Kurt had ever seen. It was like a doll's house kitchen! A small fridge, a pathetic excuse for an oven, several chipped, wooden counters and a dull, rusty sink. Brown and white panelling lined the walls, decorated with animal clocks, animal calendars, brass pans, kitchen utensils and blue, red and green ribbons obviously won at fairs. Against the back of the room was an old staircase leading to the second floor; Kurt would have gladly slept on the couch then risked his neck climbing that death-trap. He glanced back at the farmer, who was way too cheery for someone living in a hovel like this.

"Look at you…" he shook his head in disbelief, sliding his thumbs into his dungarees, "all grown up. Old Burty's little boy…" he turned his head towards the staircase, "Linda! Get down here, you old goose!" he chuckled, rubbing his hands together in glee. A plump woman with brown curls and rosy cheeks hurried down the stairs, and clasped her hands together and cooed at the sight of Kurt.

"Ooooooh!" she waddled towards him, "look at you!" she exclaimed, pulling Kurt into a sudden hug so tight he couldn't breathe.

At this point Kurt zoned out, allowing them to squeal and make a fuss over the fact he had walked through the door.

Eventually, they allowed Kurt to take his things up to the spare bedroom, which was even more of a joke. Back home Kurt's bedroom was twice as big as the Anderson's entire downstairs, filled with designer furniture, posters, and three wardrobes full of magnificent outfits. This was the size of one of those wardrobes, with a tiny wooden bed, bedside table with lamp, and a pathetic excuse for a wardrobe. Kurt dropped his suitcases on the floor and shut the door, moving slowly over to his bed. The blanket upon it looked itchy and uncomfortable, but he lowered himself down upon it. He pressed his legs together, and the palms of his hands. He was overwhelmed with the desire to burst into tears, to call his father and beg for him to take him home. Instead he just stared ahead of him, feeling… empty. His friends were all back home, having pool parties, shopping, making memories and enjoying life. Meanwhile he will be here… surrounded by nothingness.

His train of thought was disrupted by a loud ringing from his pocket. The song reserved for a very special person. His hand shot straight in and pulled out his only connection to the real world, his phone.

"Hello my saviour…" he sighed into the phone.

"Mmm, baby, you miss me that much already, huh?" came his boyfriend's sexy almost whisper.

"I'm in hell…" Kurt groaned, falling back onto the bed, "it's even worse then we imagined…"

"Aww," Kurt could almost hear Sebastian's pout. God, he'd give anything to see that pout… "My poor little angel."

"It's like they're from the Stone Age!" Kurt kept his voice down, "I'm trapped in one big, boring, dirty, sexless summer and I just want to come home…" he sighed deeply, "Will you miss me?"

"Of course I will, sugar. I'll miss you ever second. I couldn't possibly have one second of fun without you, baby."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Liar."

Sebastian chuckled through the phone, "Alright, I'll have fun. But I'll be thinking of you."



Kurt laughed, "… promise me you won't cheat on me whilst I'm away?"

"Oh, Kurt, you worry so much."



"Promise me!"

"… I promise."

"Thank you." Kurt gave a little smile.

"Now don't you go cheating on me with some farmer's boy?"

Kurt gave a loud snort, "You don't have to worry about me, honey." He smirked and began running his fingers up and down the bed, "I wish you were here… right now with me…"

"I wish I was there too… mmm, the things I'd do to you…" his voice dropped to a dark, sexy whisper, it sent shivers up Kurt's spine.

"What would you do to me?" he asked, biting down on his lower lip.

"Well… first I'd lay you down on your bed, completely bare. Then I'd undress for you, slowly, the way you like it. Mmm, you'll be so hard for me by the end…"

Kurt felt a quiver of excitement run through him, tingling all over from the vivid image Sebastian was painting, "God, I would… I would…"

"Then I'd move over and climb over you, I'd tease you so fucking badly… I'd push my hard cock against yours… I'd run my fingernails down your chest, tease you until you're screaming for me… and then… I'd tease you a little more."

"Yeah… you're such a tease… you are…" Kurt moaned quietly, his free hand pawning at the bulge in his pants. His cock was twitching; the tingling feeling had spread down to it.

"And then, when you're almost to the point of cumming… I'd stop. I'd leave you squirming on the bed but I wouldn't let you touch it… I'd just watch you squirm, watch you beg for me…"

It was unbearable. Kurt slid a hand down into his pants, under his boxers. His palm rubbed against his bare, hardening cock, but it wasn't enough. It was slippery with precum.

"Don't stop…" he whispered, wrapping his hand around his erection, forgetting where he was for that brief moment.

"I'd place one finger in your mouth; let you suck it, then another… then another. Then I'd push them into you… one by one… moving them in… then out… curving them…"

Kurt was slowly pumping himself, his body consumed in lust. "The things you do to me…" he whispered.

"And… then I'd get my big… hard… wet dick… and I'd slowly slide it into-"


Kurt jumped about a mile in the air, his heart hammering, his phone falling to the floor. Footsteps… were approaching. Panicking he grabbed the blanked and pulled it over himself, his hand still inside his boxers and gripping his cock. He just covered himself up when Mrs. Anderson waddled in,

"Kurt? Oh… going to sleep, are we?" she asked, looking a little confused.

"Er… y-yes! I… long trip…"

"Oh! Oh don't worry, sweetheart. Go back to bed; we'll wake you up in a few hours. You can help our Blaine with his chores when you're up." She gave him a big smile, then left.

Falling back on the bed, Kurt wiped his brow and panted, waiting for his heartbeat to return to normal. His phone shattered upon the floor.

Everything had been taken away from him…


His phone.

His clothes.

His boyfriend.

His dignity.

Only six weeks left to go…

Kurt pulled the blanket over his head and somehow managed to fall into a deep sleep.