Mushy ficlet. I needed to exorcise the worst episode of Glee I've ever seen. >< It made me want to kill myself, in a fandom way of course.:/
Finn and Kurt needs to happen, Ryan Murphy. And it needs to be fucking spectacular, or I will cut your junk off and feed it to a stray dog.>:(
Disclaimer: If I owned them this series would be much better and it would have bloody continuity.
Spoilers: Through 2x06, "Never been kissed".
Kurt’s first kiss is awkward and clinical and pretty much the opposite of all his fantasies.
Brittany’s hot, or at least he supposes she is – he never really thought about it. But although he feels sort of dizzy and excited because he’s never been this close to another person his age, this all feels like some strange biology experiment.
Her lips are sorta nice, although they’re almost too soft for his liking, and the taste of lipgloss is just weird; he really wishes she would stop mashing her boobs into him, because that’s truly uncomfortable.
When she starts running her hand down his thigh, Kurt snatches it and drags it back up his leg, thinking vaguely he’d rather cut it off than let a girl touch him there.
He keeps a mental countdown, waiting for his dad to climb down the stair and see him making out with a girl – because that’s really the only reason why he agreed to this freak show.
Oh well, he would think to himself in the future, at least it served a purpose.
It didn’t work to convince his dad he was straight, actually. But at least it made Kurt completely sure he was, indeed, gay.
He tells himself this one does not count.
Kurt’s second kiss is, for lack of a better word, horrifying.
One moment he’s yelling at Karofsky for being a drab, homophobic ignoramus, white-hot anger shooting through his veins, and the next moment – Dave Karofsky is trying to eat his face off.
He is so shocked he can’t move a muscle, he’d probably be thinking a litany of ohmygodohmygodohmygod if he could think at all, but it’s just too much. The guy who’s been shoving him into lockers, tossing him into dumpsters, pushing him to the floor for years – is gay. And he wants Kurt. Ohmygod.
He’s just about done processing this information when Karofsky draws back, and that’s when it sinks in that he’s just been sexually assaulted. Karofsky seems to think he’d like it, though, because he dives back for a second kiss and that’s when Kurt finally reacts and shoves him off with both hands, standing frozen and feeling nauseous as the bully runs away.
After that day nothing changes between them. Karofsky still calls him a fag and throws him into heavy objects. He doesn’t try to kiss him again. Kurt, if possible, hates him even more than before, not just because of the assault, but because he had the gall to go and spoil his first kiss. Okay, not the first kiss, but his first guy-kiss.
Thinking back, Kurt has to admits that it’s closer to home than kissing Brittany was, because guy-lips are just different, somehow more solid, and he might have liked it if – and then he stops mid-thought and wants to puke, and he goes to the bathroom and mouthwashes repeatedly, disgusted with himself and the whole incident.
This was nothing at all like he imagined his first kiss with a guy would be. For one, Karofsky always stinks of sweat. He’s bulky, and chubby, and his breath tasted bad and he shoved his tongue straight into Kurt’s mouth, which Kurt did so not appreciate. He wonders what he did to deserve such bad luck, other than being the resident Gay Kid.
After some dithering back and forth, he tells himself this one doesn’t count either.
Kurt’s third kiss is as unexpected as the first two, but in a completely different way.
It’s Wednesday afternoon and he’s home alone with Finn, their parents still at work. Finn is making pancakes, because – he said – after Rachel broke up with him, he needs the sugary comfort. He asked Kurt to cook some for him and Kurt refused, because pancakes are loaded with empty calories. This, in retrospect, was not such a great idea, because Finn sucks at cooking and is getting flour all over the kitchen counter.
Kurt tries his best to ignore him as he sings loudly some godawful song from the 80s. He wishes he could be annoyed, but since he transferred to Dalton Academy he doesn’t see a lot of Finn anymore, and misses him a little. Maybe a lot. No, no, a little – Kurt is so not going there again.
Suddenly a loud yelp steals his attention. “Ow! Fuck fuck fuck!”
He turns his head up to see Finn jumping up and down waving his scalded hand in the air. Kurt eyerolls and goes to fetch an ointment for skin burns, then he takes Finn’s hand and tells him to stop whimpering like a baby while he massages the ointment into his hand.
They have a moment.
Finn hasn’t looked at him like this in – well, ever, and his mouth is doing that adorable thing where one corner quirks up into a crooked smile. Kurt feels something swell up in his chest that he thought he had buried long ago, and it threatens to swallow him whole.
“Um.” Finn says, his voice catching a little. “Um, I…” He starts leaning down, a process that could take several seconds, because Finn is very tall and they’re standing very close now.
“Oh, man,” he says, looking a little distressed, but not overly so. “You should probably stop me.”
Kurt looks up at him, and it takes him a moment to make sense of the words – what the hell strange language is that? – but when he does, he thinks that yes, he should. He’s over Finn, and they’re stepbrothers now; and he wants nothing to do with his old life. Plus, from the way Blaine keeps looking at him lately, there’s a sureshot chance of him asking Kurt on a date, and—
“I really don’t want to,” Kurt rushes the words out on an exhale of breath.
“Oh.” Finn says, drawing closer, and touching his lips to Kurt’s for two seconds that seem to stretch into next month or so.
Kurt’s eyelids flutter closed, and this time, since he actually has the chance to take a step instead of just letting some gorilla ravage him, he presses his lips against Finn’s. It’s shy, and it’s tentative, but it’s still very clear. And then – oh dear God in heaven – and then they kiss. And it’s soft, slow, sweet. It’s everything Kurt’s always fantasized about when he thought of his first kiss.
Finn’s lips are a little dry – he’s not a fan of chapsticks – but they’re full and well-shaped; he doesn’t have any particular fragrance, but he smells and tastes like what he is, clean, and Kurt really likes that, down to the minty tang of toothpaste mingling with the chocolate sauce of the pancakes.
“What are we doing?” Finn murmurs, but he doesn’t look upset. He only looks confused, like he really wants to know what this is, so he can do it right.
“I don’t know,” Kurt admits honestly. “Can you kiss me again?”
Finn smiles a warm smile down at him, making him almost forget about the warmth he feels in his own cheeks. Kurt stands on tiptoe and puts his hands on Finn’s shoulders – they’re really nice, broad shoulders to be holding on to – and thinks something inside of him melts when he can feel Finn’s hands at his waist; not groping or fumbling, just peacefully settling there.
They kiss again. Kurt parts his lips and Finn slips his tongue past them into his mouth, but this time it’s okay, because it’s consensual and Finn is not trying to rape his mouth, he’s just tasting and exploring and it makes something click at the back of his brain… and to his own surprise, it’s him who makes a small muffled sound and pushes his tongue into Finn’s mouth, somewhat desperately, because fuck, he’s been in love with this goofy sexy amazing guy for like three fucking years and after all this time, it’s not fair for him to be so good at kissing. Or something. It makes no sense and Kurt doesn’t care.
They part for breath, both of them smiling. Kurt can practically feel his lips tingle, thinking giddily that this is exactly how it’s supposed to be, and he really needs to tell Mercedes so badly, like right now.
Because this one?
It definitely counts.