Kurt can't fight back his startled gasp.
Dave freezes just like that, because somehow he's turned out to be an absolute gentleman about the most unexpected things.
"Too fast?" Dave asks, his voice thick and choked and so crammed with...god, some kind of porn-star growl that Kurt's entire body shivers and his common sense is almost overridden.
Kurt's hand is stuck where it is, at the source of his gasp. He swallows and can't help himself from letting his knuckles slide again, the backs of his fingers grazing Dave's jeans, and...god, it doesn't fucking end. This aching hardness under his fingers, this flesh pressing up into Kurt's hand like it's asking to be touched.
Dave is huge.
Dave is still frozen, waiting, but at the tentative stroke of Kurt's knuckles down his jeans he shuts his eyes and breathes out, low and shaky. "Kurt, fuck..."
It's not too fast. Kurt has been ready for this since...since their second date, even, when Dave showed up at his house wearing a blush and a Hugo Boss suit coat. He told Kurt that he ordered it the day Kurt agreed to their first date, figuring any guy on Fancy's arm needed at least a little bit of style.
Because Kurt knew how little Dave cared about fashion (and how much a good Hugo Boss coat must have cost), he would probably have jumped him right then and there if his dad and Carole weren't standing behind him waiting to give Dave a Talk.
It didn't hurt that the coat cut Dave's shoulders perfectly, unlike every other piece of clothing he wears. Kurt is pretty sure he fell in love with Dave at that exact moment, watching him blush in his brand new designer coat.
He should have known better, because...because he can't do this.
His hand slides off of Dave's jeans, and he sits up.
"Shit," Dave murmurs, eyes opening. "I didn't...I'm not trying to push, or-"
Kurt wants to laugh, because he's the one who asked if they could study up in Dave's bedroom, and he's the one who knocked Dave back on the bed the moment the door was closed without thinking once about his upcoming Chem test.
"You didn't push," he says honestly. "I did. I just..." He looks over at Dave, at his flushed cheeks and concerned but still heated eyes. God, he wants to flatten him again, to climb up on his mountain of a boyfriend and just...just forget...
But he can't. He loves Dave's eyes for their color and their expressiveness, the way Dave can't hide anything, the way Kurt has never felt so sexy as when something he does or says makes those eyes dilate dark and glassy. He wouldn't be able to stand seeing those eyes change, and they will. The moment Dave finds out about him, the light there will dim. The heat will cool, the desire will change to...to laughter, or disgust, or something else that Kurt can't face.
He draws in a deep breath and decides to play the prude, because it's so much easier than anything truthful. "I want this, Dave, but I think I need more time."
"Yeah." Dave's worry softens a little. He reaches out, his broad, warm hand sliding up Kurt's jaw and over his cheek, slipping back into his hair. "It's fine, don't worry about it. Fuck, Kurt, you're so fucking hot I can just look at you and hardly need anything else."
Kurt melts. He leans in, pushing Dave back on his back and kissing him until his already-swollen lips are aching.
Blaine stares at him across the table, stirring his coffee with the little straw in his hand like he's stuck on autopilot while his brain works out a reaction. "Really?" he says finally, his voice odd.
Kurt nods, miserable. He buries his face in his hands again. "God, like...I don't think I could get my fingers all the way around it."
Blaine makes a choked sound.
"I should have known. His hands are...and the first time I saw him without shoes on I was scared." Kurt shakes his head, hands digging in to his eyes.
"Well...congratulations, I guess."
Kurt's hands drop and he gapes across the table. "For what?"
Blaine's mouth quirks up on one side. "I don't know if you've paid any attention to the world around you the last eighteen years of your life, but what you're describing is pretty much what every woman and gay man in the world wants to find."
Kurt drops his head to the table in despair.
"Um. Maybe you could help me out here."
Kurt speaks into the wood, completely unintelligibly.
Blaine laughs. "One more time?"
He lifts his head and looks around, but the coffee shop is all but deserted this time of the evening. He faces Blaine, pushing down a lifetime of embarrassment.
Blaine's confused laughter fades instantly. He holds out his hand, brow furrowed in concern. "Hey. Come on, what's going on here?"
So, steeling himself, reminding himself that Blaine is his best friend in the world outside of Mercedes, that he won't laugh, that Kurt can trust him, he sucks in a breath, opens his mouth, and tells the truth.
Kurt's head drops back to the table.
"Oh. Um...Kurt, you know everyone thinks that about themselves, right?"
Kurt holds up his hand without lifting his head. He holds his thumb and index finger apart, and he's measured himself so many times that he can demonstrate without even looking.
Blaine chokes a little. "Really?"
Kurt's hand drops and he wants to sob into the bleach-smelling wood under his head. "I should just be alone forever."
"I'm a freak, and I've got...I've got this amazing boyfriend with a gigantic dick, and I can't even...enjoy it because I haven't even told him I'm a freak, and it's like I'm deceiving him or..."
"You're not a freak, Kurt." Blaine sounds more solemn now.
Kurt lifts his eyes, looking across the table in despair. "What do I do?"
Blaine opens his mouth, then shuts it.
Kurt drops his head again with a sob.
Blaine tries, of course. He talks about how everyone is different and if Dave really cares about him then he'll think Kurt is beautiful all the same. Everyone is a special snowflake and we should celebrate our differences and blah blah daily affirmation blah.
To make matters worse, after Blaine goes back to Dalton he keeps sending Kurt texts about all the beautiful things about him. Kurt is hiding his text messages from Dave for the first time, because if anyone else read those texts they would think Blaine was trying to get Kurt back.
Not that he'd want Kurt now.
He tells himself to just end things with Dave. He can't keep up the prude act forever, especially when his own body gives himself away more and more. He can't even feel the weight of Dave's heavy arm on his shoulder, or feel the spread of a broad hand on his back, without wanting to knock him over and destroy him.
They make out ever chance they get, the moment there's a closed door between them and the rest of the world. Hours at a time, until Kurt's mouth and jaw are exhausted and his fingers have every flat plane and hard muscle of Dave's chest and arms completely memorized.
He tries a hundred times to just tell him, but the words never come. He tries to warn Dave that there might be things about Kurt that he won't like, but Dave laughs him off with fond, soft eyes.
Dave came out of the closet for Kurt, because he wanted to be the kind of guy Kurt could go out in public with. He wanted, he tells Kurt one quiet evening when they're laying side by side and their frantic kisses have become lazy and random, to be the kind of guy Kurt would be proud to go out with.
He's changed himself, made himself better, because of Kurt. He bought himself Hugo Boss and he brushes his hair in the morning and he won't even drink slushies to avoid any negative associations. He goes to Breadstix with Kurt and pays the bill every time, and he sits with Kurt at lunch sometimes and faces the mockery and barbs of Kurt's prissy friends, and smiles his way through it.
He tells Kurt that he and Azimio are still friends, and Kurt's never seen any hint of violence or anything, but Kurt sees that when Dave does eat with the rest of the football team Azimio usually sits on the other end of the table.
Sometimes the guilt nearly chokes Kurt. It would, it would completely choke him, except the changes Dave is making are good changes that will help him, even when he drops Kurt like the malformed freak he is and goes on to plow his way through any gorgeous twinky gay boy he could ever want.
Kurt only agreed to go out with Dave the first time because he and Blaine were 'taking a break' and he thought the experience would be positive for Dave. By now, though, the idea of Dave leaving him can paralyze Kurt completely.
He can't walk away from Dave, but he can't keep this up. He just doesn't know what to do.
He's only human – even if he's a freakishly formed human – and when he's faced with this strong, shy guy with desire in his eyes and hands that make Kurt shudder at the slightest touch, he gives in despite the screams of his rational brain.
He can't keep pretending he doesn't want to touch Dave, so he gives in and touches Dave. He strokes him through his jeans and is dizzy by the sheer size and hardness of him. He dips his hand inside those jeans and kneads him through his boxers until Dave sobs and pulses and comes.
He kneels on the bed between Dave's legs and watches his flushed, awed face the first time he wraps his hands around the full naked length of him, and bends to suckle at the end when his hands can't close him in entirely.
The first time Dave comes in his mouth he can honestly tell Dave that he doesn't need to reciprocate, because he already made Kurt come in his jeans like a fifteen year old finding his first porn online.
After that, though, it becomes trickier.
The longer Kurt can draw things out, stroking and licking and suckling and then pulling away, letting Dave come back from the edge before doing it all over again, the harder Dave passes out after he's finally allowed to come. So that's Kurt's go-to strategy for a while, and it's pretty much incredible for both of them.
But Dave is a gentleman, and for some reason he isn't content getting off again and again. He reaches for Kurt more and more often, and Kurt can only turn the tables so many times before it becomes obvious that he simply doesn't want Dave to touch him.
The first time Dave consciously realizes it, it almost breaks Kurt's heart. He draws his hands back, tugging them out of Kurt's desperate grip, and he rolls away from Kurt and sits up.
"It's cool," he says, his voice a flat murmur. "I oughtta go, anyway. Fucking Spanish won't do itself."
Kurt has to call him three times before he answers, and has to kiss him everywhere before Dave realizes that Kurt isn't turned off by him. Not by a single thing about him.
But it's the beginning of the end. Dave makes one more attempt, stroking his broad hand up Kurt's thigh and murmuring into Kurt's neck how much he loves him, adores him, wants him so fucking bad.
When Kurt twists away from him, Dave shuts down. He pushes Kurt's hands away and ignores his instant frantic words about how it's not Dave, honestly, it's Kurt.
"I can't do this," Dave says, pulling his jeans on with graceless, jerky movements. "I can't keep pretending it's okay, Kurt. You don't...you keep telling me you want this, but you treat me like one of those irrational assholes in the No Means No PSAs. I don't know what the problem is, but fuck."
Kurt's not crying, but there are tears in his eyes and he knows he can't fix this. He can't put the truth out there, he can't see disgust in Dave's eyes. It would be worse than this anger, this hurt, that he's already put there.
Dave looks back at him, and something in his face crumbles when he sees Kurt's tears. He comes back to the bed and sits down, grasping for Kurt's hand. "Something's really wrong here, okay? I'm not the smartest guy in the world but I can tell this isn't how things are supposed to be. I don't know if it's you or me. I think...sometimes I think you're still scared of me, and you think I'll hurt you, or..."
Kurt opens his mouth to protest, because no. It isn't that, it isn't anything like that. But he can't say that without telling Dave what it is, and God.
Dave walks out of there without saying anything else, and Kurt doesn't know if it's an ending or not but when Blaine answers his phone finally Kurt can't stop crying long enough to tell him what happened.
"You have to tell him," Blaine says days later, when Kurt is still miserable. And, "I never thought I'd say this, but...I like Dave. I like who he is now, because I can see how hard he's trying. This...Kurt, you're my best friend, but you're hurting him letting him think he did something wrong. You're setting him back. I know you're afraid of embarrassment, but at least if he knows then he can move on."
Kurt doesn't want him to move on. But right now they pass each other in the halls at school and Dave's always so bent and worn looking now, and they can't look each other in the eyes.
Mercedes and Finn corner him before glee rehearsal one day, and that's the last straw.
"Keep in mind that no matter what you say, I've got your back, but...what the hell did you do to that boy?" Mercedes asks.
Finn nods, solemn. "Beiste is talking about not letting him play in the championship. He's just not there, you know? And when I told him that he didn't even care."
Kurt goes home that night and strips his clothes off and looks at himself in the mirror. It's something he's done quite a few times in his life, trying to convince himself that he's utterly fabulous with the exception of that one little (tiny) thing.
He tries to see himself through Dave's eyes, because Dave looks at him like he's perfect. But Kurt knows he's relatively adorable, he's got fantastic hair, he's slim and pale but in the good ways. He knows that even without Dave's adoring eyes.
It's the rest that he can't get over.
But Blaine is right. Kurt has been dealing with this fear of mockery and rejection for most of his life, and he'll go on dealing with it forever. Letting it hurt Dave...that's not fair.
He sends Dave a text:
I love you. Please come over.
And he puts his phone down and stares at himself in the mirror, and waits.
The room is so silent that the soft knock on the door makes Kurt flinch.
"Kurt?" Dave's voice is soft, uncertain.
"Are you alone?" Kurt asks into the mirror, looking at his own face and trying to draw some kind of strength from it. He's always found pride in who he is, he can find it now.
"...yeah," comes Dave's slow, confused answer.
Kurt sucks in a breath and holds it. He's got his back to the door, but the mirror is full length, Dave will be able to see him perfectly.
"Come in," he croaks out.
The door opens slowly, and Kurt stares at his own face hard but he can see movement in the peripheries. He hears the door shut, and hears Dave's breath choke in shock when he sees Kurt standing there naked.
Kurt had a line all worked out, something about how his reluctance never had anything to do with Dave. It was always Kurt, and now Dave can see why. But his mouth opens and nothing comes out.
"Kurt, what...?" Dave's voice is hushed, thick but uncertain. "Christ, you..."
Kurt shuts his eyes for a moment. When he opens them he looks beyond his own face and finds Dave in the reflection behind him.
What he sees makes him stop breathing.
Dave is closer behind him than he thought, just a couple of feet back. His eyes are on the reflection, moving up and down and up as if he can't take it in fast enough. His hazel eyes are practically black and he's breathing through his mouth, uneven.
"Christ. Kurt." His gaze sweeps down and locks on Kurt's crotch, his soft and ridiculous little dick.
He stumbles in behind Kurt, and suddenly there's blue jeans and a letterman jacket and the solid, warm mass of Dave right behind him. Kurt wants to flinch away, but he sinks backwards into Dave's broad chest, miserable.
Dave's hands slip to his waist, broad and warm, covering so much skin with those rough palms that Kurt shivers. Dave's fingertips pad over his hipbones, one drifts down his hip and outer thigh.
Kurt feels something behind him, and shock makes him suck in a breath.
Dave is hard. Rock hard.
He looks at Dave in the mirror's reflection and shock makes him gasp: the color in Dave's face, the black swirls in his eyes, it's like their most heated moments together before now, like the way Dave looks when Kurt swallows him down and pulls him to lick him clean and Dave stares down at him like he just can't get over how fucking hot Kurt is.
Kurt turns around, shock driving him to move. He looks up at Dave's face, stunned to see the mirror wasn't lying.
Dave's eyes slip down and back up, and he leans in so close that the breath of his murmured "Kurt..." warms Kurt's face.
Kurt shuts his eyes, wanting to sob. "How can you look at me like that?" he asks, his hands clenching around the front of that red and white jacket.
"What...Kurt, you're fucking perfect."
"No, I'm not!" He wants to shut up, to memorize Dave's voice saying those words so that he can hold on to it forever. But God, doesn't Dave realize? "I'm..."
"What?" Dave asks, a challenge. He slips in and his lips graze over Kurt's neck like he just can't say away.
Kurt draws in a breath. "I'm...small," he says shakily, and for some reason with Dave's hands on him and his lips against his throat those words sound...almost insignificant.
Dave draws back, incredulous. "Is that why...this whole time, you've been..."
"Of course!" Kurt can't pull away so he sinks in closer, burying his face against Dave's chest. "I'm not normal! Nobody wants...someone like this."
"Yeah?" Dave grabs him suddenly, fingers tight around his waist. He pulls Kurt in, pressing their bodies together firmly. "This is how much I don't want you."
Kurt's breath escapes, and he can't lift his head but it's impossible not to feel how hard Dave is, the press of his dick thick and firm against Kurt's hip. "But..." He's breathless suddenly.
Dave bends his head, his breath warm in Kurt's hair. "Christ, are you arguing with me about this? You're the sexiest fucking thing I have ever seen, baby."
Kurt laughs, mostly air and relief and he's so close to believing it, but after a lifetime of fear it can't be this easy. It just can't.
"You want me to prove it?" Dave asks, his voice so low it feels more like vibration than sound.
Kurt lifts his head from the safety of Dave's jacket. He looks up at Dave, and all but sobs when he sees the heat in those expressive hazel eyes.
Dave takes that simple look as his answer, and in a half an instant he's on his knees in front of Kurt, fingers still curving into his hips. He looks up at Kurt for a moment.
It's Kurt's only chance to stop this. But he can't even breathe, seeing Dave on his knees. His own dick is half-hard just like that.
The moment for objections passes and Dave's eyes travel down his body greedily, taking in everything. He leans in, presses his lips against the dip over Kurt's hipbone. "Fuck," he murmurs into Kurt's skin. "Been waiting so fucking long."
Kurt is frozen, half scared and half hard. He reaches out uncertainly and combs his fingers through Dave's dark hair, too scared to say anything.
Dave's lips trail across his skin, over the jut of hipbone and over his stomach. His hands slip back, huge palms and broad fingers covering Kurt's ass, pressing him closer as he groans into Kurt's skin.
Kurt's eyes shut and his head dips. His dick fills, harder every second, and his heart is pounding in his throat. This is real. It's real and Dave's here and Dave loves him. Dave sees him and he loves him.
"Can I..." Dave doesn't wait for an answer, and Kurt doesn't need to give one. One hand stays cupped against Kurt's ass, the other slides around and trails through the sparse light brown curls, mapping out the base of Kurt's small, hard dick like it really is the most amazing thing he's ever seen.
Kurt gasps and his fingers tighten in Dave's hair. "Dave. Please..."
"Yeah. Fuck, yeah." Dave's fingers close around Kurt's dick, and Kurt moans at the feeling, the exquisite difference between this and when he touches himself.
Dave's hand wraps around him all the way, leaving just the tip of Kurt's cock uncovered. "Jesus, Kurt," he growls out, staring at his big hand around Kurt's little dick like it's the hottest thing ever. "God, you're fucking...like you were made for me, shit."
Kurt opens his mouth to answer, but Dave leans in before he can and traces his tongue around that exposed bit of Kurt's dick.
Kurt's entire body jerks, but Dave's other hand is firm and solid against his ass, holding him still and upright. Kurt has to grab Dave's shoulders, fisting his jacket in seizing fingers.
"Dave! Da...goddd," He's never felt this before, anything like it. He imagined, he dreamed and fantasized and jerked off to it, but it's so much more than he thought it was.
Dave's tongue darts, circles, then his lips close around Kurt and his hand slips away, and he takes Kurt into his mouth bit by bit.
"God, fuck, Dave." The heat around his dick is unbelievable, the wet press of Dave's lips, the glide of his tongue. Kurt isn't a big talker in bed so far, when they make out or whatever, but he can't make himself shut up now. "Dave! Dave, so good. God, so good..."
Dave groans his agreement, and the vibrations against Kurt's dick nearly make his knees collapse under him. He leans in, grabbing Dave to hold him up, and every breath is a Dave or a God or a please, or these porn movie grunts, ungh uuungh, that he's never heard from himself before.
Dave takes him in all the way, his ragged breath warm against Kurt's skin as he fits all of Kurt into his mouth. His hand is suddenly off of Kurt's ass, but Kurt hears the frantic slide of a zipper a moment later. He looks down at Dave, kneeling there fully dressed, still in his fucking jacket, and watches Dave fumble to pull his dick out like he can't wait another second.
Dave growls around Kurt, dragging his lips up the short length of him and then down again, groaning like he's starving for this.
Kurt sobs in pleasure, and he has to shut his eyes or the sight of Dave's mouth around him or Dave jerking himself off frantically will make him shoot right then and there.
He throws his head back, eyes shutting painfully. "Fuck, Dave, God, your mouth," and he can't stop himself from panting out words, he can't breathe without moaning, he can't exist without pushing his hips closer into that velvet hot suction.
Dave is panting around his cock like he can't breathe but even that isn't enough to make him pull away. He takes Kurt in deep, making soft choking sounds around his dick.
"Fuck me, Dave. Fuck, God," he can't shut up, he's never had this kind of mouth before, god, but he can't stop. Not until there's a familiar pressure in his belly, a tightness and heat and he knows he's going to come and he wants to fight it back so that this goes on, but he wants to come in Dave's mouth like he has never wanted anything before.
"Dave." He can't form a warning, but he squeezes Dave's shoulder fiercely.
Dave slides down the length of him, holding Kurt in his mouth, groaning around him.
"Dave dave dave fuck fuuuuuck!" Kurt shuts his eyes and his body seizes and he erupts into Dave's mouth, and erupts, and fuck he's never come this hard and his body won't stop and christ.
Dave makes a strangled sound around Kurt, and Kurt barely manages to open his eyes in time to see Dave's cock shooting between them, and thank god Kurt's carpet is dark and a stain won't show and he can't even bring himself to care.
He's left panting, almost bent in half as his convulsive grip on Dave's jacket is the only thing keeping him upright.
Dave slips off of him, his tongue stroking a warm, careful path up him as he does. He works his lips around the tip of Kurt's dick before finally letting it fall from his mouth.
Kurt loses his balance, dropping gracelessly to his knees. He tries to loosen his grip on Dave's abused jacket but he can't make his fingers work, so he gives up and lets himself slip closer, finding Dave's mouth with his.
Dave makes a low, hoarse sound against his mouth, arms clenching around Kurt and pressing him in so hard it's difficult to breathe, and Kurt can taste himself when Dave's tongue dips frantically into his mouth, and God he's almost ready to get hard again just like that.
They settle down, though, mouths meeting desperately until the desperation is calmed.
Kurt pulls back to breathe and Dave's mouth goes to his jaw, tracing down his throat, like he just can't stop now that he's been given permission to do what Kurt resisted for so long.
Kurt's got tears drying on his face when he's finally able to form coherent thoughts again, but he wipes at the trails and can feel all the relief and acceptance that formed those tears. He drops his forehead against Dave's shoulder, feeling all the more vulnerable because he's still naked and Dave is still fully dressed.
Dave's arms loosen around him, but he doesn't let Kurt go. He nuzzles his mouth against Kurt's hair, breathing just starting to go back to normal speed.
"Christ," he says, his voice rough between them. "I want to do that once a day at least."
Kurt laughs faintly, but he pulls back and meets Dave's eyes and can't help but feel utterly awed by him. "I can't...I can't believe you don't care..."
"Don't care?" Dave grins the lazy crooked smile that getting off always puts on his face. "Fuck yeah I care. You're fucking hot, Kurt, everything about you. In case you haven't noticed," he adds with raised eyebrows, "I've got a thing for small guys."
Kurt smiles shakily. "Yeah, but-"
"Shut up, Fancy. No buts." Dave leans in, kissing the uncertainty out of Kurt's smile. "Want me to be blunt? Your dick is the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen. And I may be newer at being queer than you are, but I've been doing some research to make up for lost time."
Dave grins, face red. "I've seen a hell of a lot of porn and I've even scoped out a few guys, and I'm telling you..." He slips his hand down the line of Kurt's body, stroking his hip. "You're perfect. And if you're not perfect than you're perfect for me."
Kurt swallows and leans in, kissing Dave's smiling mouth softly. "I believe you," he says, and his voice shakes but this is...it's his biggest, longest held fear. It's his one dark secret, his one area of complete black self-doubt.
And it doesn't exist anymore. Just like that. Dave has taken it from him. And maybe if Dave ever leaves him and he has to find someone else, maybe that doubt will come back...
But as far as Kurt is concerned, especially now that he's lived a few days without his boyfriend at his side, he's never going to get a chance to find out.