Summary: Kurt shows Finn the ropes of homosexual congress.
Author note: Written for this prompt on the kink meme. It ends a little abruptly but I thought it was a nice note to leave on. Hopefully the OP likes it!
"The key," Kurt began, "is lubrication." Seeing that this had only glazed Finn's face even further than undressing in front of him had, Kurt clarified, "Jelly, Finn."
Kurt watched as Finn's head turned towards the door, and sighed as he sensed the jock’s mind journeying down the hall, into the kitchen, and right to the jar of Smucker's concord grape. Once again, one just had to be thankful that Finn was pretty enough to make up for the excruciating chore it was to not slam one’s head into the wall every few minutes one spent with him. One was also fairly thankful that Finn was so turned on that he probably wasn’t considering PB&J’s to be a better alternative to an afternoon of exploring his sexuality.
One was also fairly turned on…oneself.
“KY jelly. It’s sexual lubricant. Guys don’t get wet,” Kurt explained, crinkling his nose slightly at the wording, “you know, down there. Not like girls can. So it’s imperative that there be something to…oil the gears.” God bless his one masculine knowledge bank being useful in this most awkward of situations.
“Oh,” Finn responded finally, staring as Kurt hopped off the bed and started digging around in his backpack, producing the small bottle he had been referring to and tossing it to him. Finn caught it, turning it around in his hands—and then proceeded to dump a generous amount into the palm of his hand.
Kurt actually slapped himself in the forehead. “You use lotion, don’t you?”
“When you—“ Kurt gestured lewdly, rolling his eyes, “—you use lotion. You don’t need as much lube as you do lotion. It’s really slippery. You can…play with it, if you like.” Kurt could feel the muscle under his eye twitching. In comparison to the $135 Armani jeans folded neatly on Finn’s bedside table, the lube had cost barely anything, but it still seemed like a waste. Then again, he had no way of knowing how wild Finn would get later, and his derriere would probably thank him for as smooth an entry as possible.
Finn had, despite being told lube did not equal lotion, spread the substance all over the fronts and backs of his hands. He rubbed his fingertips together, watching with fascination as they slid against each other. Eventually, he glanced back up at Kurt, chewing his lip. “Is this where I…?”
After lubrication, vocabulary was probably key. “Prepare me, yes.” Kurt laid back on the bed, lifting up his hips and sliding a pillow beneath them, much to Finn’s apparent disgust. “It’s either this or I scream in pain. I think you’d prefer I only scream for good reasons, yes?”
Finn nodded vaguely, shuffling over to Kurt on his knees, hands outstretched like they’d caught fire when they were in fact dripping with shiny lubricant. Which was sort of hot? Maybe? Mostly Kurt found it was a reminder that he had never done this either and if he hadn’t had as much, well, interest, he’d be no more educated than Finn. He’d discovered on his own that while his fingers were fairly nimble on a keyboard, he was not nearly flexible or coordinated enough to handle what Finn was about to do when it was just him, and admittedly he was tensing more than he liked at the prospect of what was going to happen.
But getting nervous wasn’t going to help Finn at all, so, swallowing his own fears back into his throat, Kurt spread his legs and reached for Finn’s wrist. “Just one finger at first. Your hands are bigger than mine, so it’ll be more of a stretch at first. Just go slow.” He pressed his friend’s hand against him gently, leaving it up to him which finger he decided to use. And then he just…relaxed.
…Right up until Finn began pressing. Even going as slow as he was, it was a stretch, and Kurt was immediately tightening down on him. Finn didn’t seem to notice, however, and kept plodding right along, like this was a dance-step he vaguely remembered from their choreography day in Glee but had never quite understood. Kurt felt his body resisting and refusing but he found he couldn’t say a word for fear of upsetting Finn.
However, his face was apparently doing the talking, because suddenly Finn stopped completely and was peering at him with the same expression he’d use on anyone else in this situation. Kurt could see him looking like that for Quinn or Rachel just as easily—maybe more easily. Finn was just too nice. He was also a worry-wart. “Kurt, does it—“
“It’s fine. Keep going.” Kurt reached out and stroked a hand over Finn’s cheek, exhaling and relaxing slowly. The gesture apparently soothed them both, because now Finn was leaning forward and pushing his finger again, twisting it slightly. Kurt wasn’t certain that this was intentional, but it was certainly a step in the right—
“Ohh…” Kurt moaned, eyes fluttering closed, body arching involuntarily. Finn froze once again, breathing frantic on Kurt’s neck.
“Did I—oh God, I should st—“
“Don’t you dare stop, Finn Hudson,” Kurt scolded, grabbing onto the hand Finn was trying to remove. He tugged, doing his best to guide Finn back to that spot before suddenly the finger inside of him was taking its own initiative and rubbing, stroking, brushing—and Kurt could barely breathe. “Oh my God…”
“Man…guess this is, uh, what everybody’s so into?” Finn asked, earning a gasping and rapid nod from Kurt. “Guess I’ll have to try it myself someday…”
Kurt moaned wantonly, legs falling even wider, though it seemed impossible. That image—the very idea of doing this to Finn, of getting him this worked up and writhing, God, it was almost enough to make him just—
No. No, Finn wanted both acts, not just a preview, and he was going to get it. Even if Kurt exploded from the pressure of holding back. Swallowing in an attempt to wet his throat, he managed to croak, “Finn…another finger…”
“Oh,” Finn mumbled, moving down Kurt’s body a little to watch what he was doing. Seeing Finn examining his most intimate parts was, admittedly, probably more embarrassing than arousing, really, but it still drew a moan from Kurt that seemed to radiate down his body and into Finn’s hand as he added another finger.
The pain was back, and while it was definitely paired with pleasure now it was still a bit much. Kurt’s eyes stung and watered, and Finn watched him with that adorable little crinkle in his brow. After a few breathless moments, Kurt finally forced himself to nod, and Finn’s fingers began thrusting once again.
Oh, if that wasn’t the most uncomfortable feeling ever. Stretched so much and yet still feeling pleasure, somewhere, but not enough to counteract the odd fullness he felt. He figured he’d just get used to this eventually. After a few…tries…
Alright, maybe it was the concept of partaking in this act again, of having Finn bury his fingers or other appendages deep inside him on more than one occasion, but suddenly Kurt was groaning again, and desperately fighting the urge to take a hold of himself and finish himself right then and there. Finn, apparently unable to watch Kurt in this state of utter debauchery had buried his face in Kurt’s side, moving his fingers purely on instinct and his sense of touch. For some reason this turned Kurt on even further, and without warning he was rolling his hips eagerly against Finn’s fingers, whimpering at every brush against his prostate.
Wow, okay. “Okay—okay, stop, Finn,” Kurt gasped, grabbing weakly at the bigger boy’s shoulder.
“Oh—sorry, okay!” Finn pulled back suddenly, causing significantly more pain in the process than he might’ve had he taken his time, but Kurt managed to hide this pretty well. Swallowing thickly, his eyes a little glassy, Finn watched him and waited for Kurt to tell him what to do next.
“It’s…it’s fine,” Kurt panted, licking his lips as he worked up the nerve to continue, “I…I’m ready.” He looked at Finn significantly, hoping that this, the thing most similar to heterosexual intercourse, would get across to him with minimal effort.
For once, Kurt was lucky. Finn nodded stiffly, retrieving a condom from his bedside table and, with trembling hands, attempting to open it. Kurt watched him fumble for a moment before grabbing it from his hands and unwrapping it himself. Smiling affectionately at Finn to show he wasn’t mad, just impatient, Kurt reached over and slid the protection down Finn’s shaft.
This action left them in an awkward lull as Finn hesitated noticeably. He looked Kurt over, swallowing thickly, then dragged his eyes back up to his face. Kurt didn’t know if he should be concerned or just insulted at the expression of panic Finn was displaying. “Kurt, I—oh God, I’m going to hurt you—I can’t—“ He sat back on his heels suddenly, his body wilting along with his resolve.
Kurt sat up, sighing. “It’s okay. I—if you’re not ready we don’t have to.”
“I—I want to. I do. I just—I’m scared, Kurt, I don’t want to—“
“Finn,” Kurt said, reaching up to cup Finn’s cheek, “I trust you. Whatever you want to do, I’m ready.”
Finn took a deep breath, finally leaning down to press to the edge of Kurt’s mouth. Voice soft, he asked, “Do you need any more…uh. Jelly?”
Kurt, surprised Finn had recovered so quickly, took a moment to register what Finn was asking. “Oh—uh, yeah, just to be safe, I think.” He picked up the bottle from where it’d been discarded beside them and handed it to Finn. “Put it on—put it on you.”
Finn paused. “I don’t think I can touch it right now…”
“Think about football—“ Well, that was kind of a homoerotic image, wasn’t it? “Uh, soccer. Think about soccer.”
“The mailman,” Finn mumbled vaguely as he spread the lubricant over himself gingerly.
Kurt blinked at the non-sequitur. “What?”
“Nothing,” Finn said, clearing his throat, “Ready?”
Kurt swallowed, shifting his hips back onto the pillow and spreading his legs around Finn. “Yeah. I am.”