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Kurt will blame Finn for this forever. 20 years from now he’ll still be making veiled threats to tell Carole about what happened here tonight. And none of it would have ever happened if Finn hadn’t gotten the genius idea to go into the Army, of all things.
Rachel had come back from finding her feet in NYC just in time to see Finn off to Basic. She was still wearing the ring and he had stopped asking, but now that Finn was actually leaving she decided to drama queen it up with the Glee girls, mourning his impending absence and their starcrossed (her star – just ask her) love with a sleepover. And of course Kurt was invited, but the only reason she was even doing it is because Finn is spending this one last night with the guys, and even though this wasn’t his crowd, it was at his house, and Finn was his brother. Tomorrow he’d be leaving to become a soldier, and, Gomer Pyle jokes aside, the idea was legitimately terrifying. Kurt was staying right there where he could keep an eye on him until the bitter end.
He didn’t realize there’d be so much nudity involved, though.
It had started, like all bad ideas probably did, with Noah Puckerman and porn and way too much alcohol. His dad and Carole decided to call off house rules for the night – Finn was headed somewhere that scared the hell out of both of them, and so they’d collected the car keys and retreated upstairs and locked the door. Kurt saw his dad snag a bottle of scotch on the way upstairs, so his guess was that they’d locked their door and done their level best to drink until they passed out. At this point it was an incredibly appealing idea.
So there had been vodka and porn, straight porn, and if he’d thought the gay variety had been horrifying he’d really had no idea. Sometime before his phone disappeared he’d sent a mass text to his girlfriends (“At this moment, let me please apologize on the behalf of my brethren. I am so, so sorry”) and then tried to avoid looking at the TV again. He and Blaine crawled onto the floor behind the sofas, talking quietly, maybe kissing (Blaine was spending the night! No house rules! Horrible images to erase!) so yes, fine – they’d been making out. And then Puckerman was calling his name.
“Kurt! Hey! Hummel!” Kurt waved his hand over his head and hoped that Puck could see it over the back of the sofa. “Yeah, I see you waving. Get your ass up here.”
He’d kissed Blaine one more time and said under his voice, “Hold on, I’ll be right back, let me deal with this,” and scrambled to his knees to pull himself up and lean over the back of the sofa.
“Look can you just leave us….” His voice faded out when he took in the scene before him: Puck and Sam were both leaning against the back of the sofa, shorts open and hard cocks out, stroking slow and easy. Artie was shaking his head and zipping up, Finn had his eyes covered up with one hand, Mike was sitting in the corner of the sofa with his arms crossed over his chest and a smug smile on his face, and Joe and Rory were both blushing and looking everywhere but at the other people in the room and the TV. It made it look like they were super into their family photos, but that was the least of his problems.
“I knew you weren’t a natural blond!” Kurt blurted out before he clapped one hand over his mouth and used the other to start tugging at the neck of Blaine’s t-shirt.
Puck looked up at him, arrogant and lazy, and said, “That’s what you’re focusing on? All this sausage in front of you and that’s where your mind is going?”
Blaine started scrambling up when he heard that, and when he was standing behind Kurt, one arm slung over his shoulder he breathed out, “Oh my god, I didn’t believe things like this actually happened.”
“Are you… what are you doing?” Kurt was just sober enough to hate how high his voice went on that word.
“We’re getting Finn ready for Basic,” Puck said. The whole time his hand was moving steady and slow, and it was all Kurt could do to focus on his eyes, his eyes, his eyes, Kurt Hummel. “He was nervous about it, about older dudes or bigger dudes. So I thought – okay, we have bigger dudes right here. We’re just desensitizing him to it.”
“That’s not what I meant!” Finn cried out, groping for a pillow to put over his face. “I swear, Kurt, that’s not at all what I meant.”
“And you have to…” Kurt mimed the basic movement, and Blaine giggled behind him and leaned forward, heavy and drunken, to press kisses against the back of Kurt’s neck.
“You can’t tell who’s bigger if it’s all dangly, can you?”
“And that matters?” Kurt couldn’t believe he’s been friends with these people for three years. Well. More or less.
“Size matters, yo,” offered Artie with a punctuating faux ghetto hand gesture that threatened to topple him. Kurt couldn’t help but note the irony that from where he was standing he couuld see the table where his father once told him that he mattered. “I’m out, but Sam and Puck are close enough that they have to… you know. Choke up on it a little bit. And then we can see.”
Blaine finally spoke up from behind him. “What does the winner get?”
“Oh my god, Blaine, stay out of this, please,” he hissed.
“Bragging rights, duh, man,” Puck said. “It’s not like you’re going to get to suck it or anything.”
Blaine gave him a pretty deliberate look and smirked. “Yeah, I’ve had better.”
Kurt sunk his head into his hands and groaned.
“You packing yourself?” Puck was way too curious about his boyfriend’s dick, and Kurt whipped his head up to tell him that when –
“Nope – I know from first hand experience that I’m not the biggest in this room.” Blaine slid one hand around Kurt to grab at Kurt’s belt buckle and give it a little shake in Puck’s direction, and Kurt just kept shaking his head. “But at least my pubes also don’t match the hair on my head.”
“I was there at prom – I know that’s not true.”
“A landing strip? Really?”
Puck’s smirk was the most obnoxious thing Kurt had ever seen. “The ladies like a little grooming. I’m surprised Princess there lets you have any hair, anywhere.”
“Kurt likes knowing he’s with a man.”
“Yeah he does,” Artie crowed.
“Okay, can we just stop?” Kurt finally interjected. “I have no idea what that just was, but that is… Blaine, that is private.”
“These guys have no idea about you, they never have.”
“Not like you have, we haven’t,” Puck piped up from the sofa, a dirty grin on his face.
“I’m not the one jerking off with my friends, man. I know who I am. You discovering new things about yourself tonight?”
Puck just laughed. “Oh I know who I am. I’m the guy with the biggest dick in the room.”
“Still right here, you know,” Sam said from Artie’s shoulder, and Mike continued to smirk in his corner of the sofa. Finn kept muttering, “Going to war, going to war, soon it will all be over and I’ll be nice and safe in Afghanistan,” and Joe was asking Rory, “You’re supposed to, like, shave it? Seriously?”
Blaine kissed at the side of his neck and whispered under his ear. “Show them, Kurt.”
“No!” he whispered back. “That’s weird.”
“It’s hot. God, Kurt, this is like porn.”
“Did you not just see what I saw? ‘Like porn’ is not going to sell me on anything anytime soon.”
“No, the really good kind of porn.”
“Sam and Puck’s dicks are like the good porn? Oh really? Do you have something you want to say to me?”
Blaine’s laugh was loose, drunken, and with his mouth wide open against the side of Kurt’s neck.
Kurt whipped his head to the side, away from Blaine’s mouth. “Are you spitting on me? Oh my god, gross.”
“That’s not what you said last week,” Blaine whispered, low and dirty, and Kurt was just glad that Sam and Puck were trying to get their dicks as close as possible without touching, “because whatever Blaine said, this is about pride, man. No swordfighting.”
Blaine whispered again, “Come on. Look at them. I know you don’t want to, like, do them. But this is straight guys begging you to whip out your dick for their approval. And you’ve got the goods. Shut them the fuck up, for once.”
Kurt hesitated and then turned to watch Puck lean back into the sofa, swearing bitterly.
“’Puckzilla, my ass,” Sam said, laughing hysterically and falling over into Artie.
“Man, you wish, Evans,” but Puck was frowning, one line between his brows as he huffed and zipped up his jeans.
Artie was petting Sam’s hair. “Dude, you’re so toasted. It’s not pretty. Put that thing away.”
“No way. It’s, like, my lightsaber. And it’s the biggest one.”
“Kuuuurt,” Blaine whined in his ear. “Don’t let him take this. You have to live with him. Every time he talks about Star Wars you’re going to remember this.” Kurt shuddered; Sam talked about Star Wars a lot. “Here, I’ll help,” he said, his hands going to undo Kurt’s belt buckle.
Kurt slapped away Blaine’s hand and thought longingly of manicures and weepy romcoms with his best girls and said, “Fine! I’ll do it.”
“Oh my god, you are the best boyfriend ever.”
“Oh ho, Kurt’s whipping it out!” Puck crowed. Mike leaned forward, one brow up, and Kurt gave him a bitch face. He knew what Mike was carrying around in his jeans, Tina wasn’t exactly the most discreet, and yet he managed to stay out of it.
He shoved his fly open and pushed down his briefs, thankful that he made a habit of maintaining a nice underwear collection. Blaine peeked over his shoulder, craning to get a peek, and he breathed out, “Oh, black and grey, nice.” He squeezed his eyes shut and just concentrated on Blaine’s breath against his neck and down the front of his t-shirt and cupped his balls, bringing his whole package out to rest on the cradle of the elastic waistband.
There was silence in the room, and Kurt said, “Finn, keep the damn pillow over your face.”
Finn whimpered and said, “Just tell me when it’s over,” and then Sam said, “Well. Fuck.”
Puck let out a low whistle, but he said, “I don’t know, Sammy. It’s still – I mean, maybe he’s just not much of a grower.”
Blaine snorted and reached down to wrap his hand around Kurt’s cock, which immediately set off a firestorm of protest.
“Not fair!” Puck shouted, while Sam said, “Solo! It’s a solo competition!” and Artie cried out, “Whoa, dude. That shit is, like, personal.” “Man, that’s my brother,” came from Finn’s corner, and there was absolute dead silence from Mike, Joe and Rory which, fair enough, really.
“You guys are ruining it,” Blaine said, a pout threaded through his voice, but he moved his hand back to wrap around Kurt’s belly.
Kurt kept his eyes closed and wrapped his hand around his dick. Blaine kept whispering in his ear, “God, so hot. They can’t take their eyes off of you. This is pretty much the best thing ever, and I am going to blow the hell out of you after you make them all cry.”
Kurt guffawed, just once, but he kept stroking nice and easy, Blaine’s voice and warm breath fueling him along. It was… strangely erotic. Weird as hell, embarrassing, but he liked knowing they’re looking, and he knew, has known for a while, that he had nothing to be ashamed of. It was all one tangled knot – Blaine pressing firm against his ass, his own hand warm and dry, and the weight of those eyes, and he can feel himself swelling, growing hard under their scrutiny.
“Damn, Kurt. I always knew you had balls, but… damn.” That was easy admiration in Puck’s voice, and he tried not to grin at it – no need to make it too simple.
“So I guess I’m done here,” Sam said, and that was it – Kurt couldn’t help it anymore, and he grinned.
“Really?” Finn said, voice muffled.
“Oh yeah. Princess is hung like a man, no doubt about it.”
“There never was,” Blaine said, with a kiss to Kurt’s cheek.
Artie said, “Aw, look how proud they are. Well done, Anderson.”
Kurt sighed and said, “Okay, are we done now?”
“Any other challengers?” Puck said to the room, and there was absolute silence except for Finn breathing into his pillow.
“Pack it up, then. Bragging rights are yours.”
Kurt tucked away and zipped and buttoned, and when he opened his eyes he was treated to a room full of newly respectful faces. Mike gave him an approving nod and a double thumbs up and Artie said, his voice earnest from the liquor, “That’s a nice gift you’ve got there, Kurt. Congratulations.”
“Finn, you can take the pillow down. We’re all done. No more threat to your precious masculinity,” Kurt said, buckling his belt.
Finn dropped the pillow to his lap, and the look on his face was full of righteous indignation. “Man, it’s not about that. I’m going into the Army. I’m not going to spend my last night of freedom looking at other guy’s dicks.”
“Fair enough. Plenty of time for that when you get there, right?”
He threw the pillow at Puck and said, “Seriously, man. This sucks. What are we going to do next?”
“Gross, dude. This pillow has your drool all over it,” Puck complained, throwing the pillow right back at Finn to smack him in the face.
While they bickered, Blaine whispered, “Okay, we win. Let’s go upstairs, so you can collect your prize.” Kurt turned his head to look at him, and his eyes were dark and his smile naughty.
They crept toward the stairs, Blaine tugging and Kurt happy to follow, and were almost there when Puck said, “Wait, hey! Where are you going?”
“Where do you think? My boyfriend has a prize-winning cock,” and Blaine was so drunk, but so was he, so he just grinned and tripped up the stairs behind him. Finn would still be there in the morning.
As they trailed up the stairs, Kurt heard Joe say, “No, really. You’re supposed to shave down there?”