Genre: AU, Romance/Drama, Smut, MPreg
Warnings: M/M oral sex
Summary: Based off this anonymous glee kink meme prompt.
Kurt was well aware that, yes, infidelity definitely does not fix a crumbling marriage. It’s unlawful and immoral, and if anyone finds out, Blaine and Kurt’s very rich families will not be pleased. But with someone like Dave sweeping him off his feet (also, satisfying his seemingly insatiable appetite for raw sex)? Kurt’s only human, after all…
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, and any similarity to real life situations/other stories is purely coincidental.
A/N: Thank you for all those tuning in! Amy Winehouse's death devastates me. I took the title of this fic from the lyrics of her song "Love is a Losing Game". With her loss, I am even more driven to make this story be good.
Please don't hesitate to comment, suggest or critic! It will make my day. ~ <3
Chapter 1: Kurt Anderson's Woes
Chapter 2: Drenched
Kurt cracks his eye open. Never, in a long time, has he woken up with a warm body pressing against his. If he had a choice he'd rather stay a little bit longer, but the clock on the wall says its two in the morning. The rain has stopped, and for sure Blaine would be home by now.
For a moment he just stares at Dave. Marveling at how calm his expressions are now, when hours ago it was bunched up out of the overwhelming want and need. Adoring the way his muscular arms are wrapping him. And just listening to the steady thud of their chests together.
But he wriggles out of Dave's embrace. Just as he tries to, Dave wakes up.
"Go back to sleep, Dave." He places a gentle kiss on Dave's temple. "I need to go back now."
Kurt doesn't miss the sad look in Dave's searching eyes. "Go back?"
"We'll talk later, I swear. I promise, this isn't bad. But you do know...." I am still married, Kurt thought.
"Yeah, I know. I just wished that... I was watching you sleep and hoped you'd stay til the morning. I want to know how you look when you've just woken up."
That's enough to make Kurt stay. To see what this attraction to Dave really is, but he knew he had to take time to know. But it doesn't stop Kurt's mouth to melt to a warm smile.
"As much as that's really sweet, I regret to inform you that it is not as appealing as you expect it to be. Now," he slowly get off the bed with Dave's arms falling limp. "We'll talk. Later."
Kurt reaches down to give Dave a parting kiss, and they break it off smiling. Not feeling up to wearing his still damp clothes and shoes, he picks them up and steps out the door in Dave's clothes without looking back. All he could think about for now was what lie to weave up that's plausible enough for his husband. Surely, even if Blaine was in an unaffectionate streak for nearly two years, he'd find the sight of Kurt in unrecognizable clothes a little odd.
He creeps up from the backdoor of the mansion to the wide spiral staircase up to the topmost floor where the master bedroom is. Kurt is relieved to find the door unlocked and Blaine not awake typing away on a laptop.
He moves to dump the clothes on the hamper and wash his feet. But upon walking to the bed, Blaine stretches to wake up, cracking his eyes open.
"Those clothes are too big for you."
"Well, they're Dad's. And comfortable."
Kurt braces himself for the question, or maybe an accusation. Anything that anyone would suspect from a married person sneaking into the room in an unfamiliar outfit. But all Blaine does is tuck himself back to slumber.
Before Dave, Kurt would have once again cried himself to sleep. He was pretty sure he had some form of mild depression from how distant his husband has been. But with Dave... even the bare thought of his name made him feel toasty in an instant. So he all but shrugs off another dismissal from his husband and sleeps like he hasn't slept in a long time
He sees Dave again the morning after, as the robust man helps hoist up Blaine's luggages to the van driving him off to the airport. The way he said goodbye was no longer how Kurt would have pictured it. He no longer held on longer than Blaine, and didn't even mind that all he got was a pull for a tight hug. Just like friends. Just like they usually did before senior year.
Kurt eyes Dave and feels like such a tramp, perving on his sexy employee with his husband right in front of them. But he's lost the will to care. And besides, Dave was to blame. Those flexing biceps in a shirt with cuffed sleeves left Kurt reminded of other ample parts of his body.
Kurt has decided to not drop Blaine to the airport. That's what the driver and a butler is for. And his father, Burt, would be spending lunch with him. He wanted to have enough time to prepare food and get himself ready.
He misses having some time alone with his father. So each time he got the chance to, he tries to test if he can muster up the courage to let his Dad know how strained his married life has been from the get-go. He keeps hoping against hope that he can have the heart to let his father know his pains, but he usually ends up brushing him aside to lounge in his father's celebration of how much Kurt got his life right.
"I'm so happy you listened to me. Look what kind of man you've become! You remind me so much of your mother. She would be proud."
The words echo in his head as he wait for Burt's arrival. He paces back and forth the third floor hallway, feeling like crawling out of his skin. Kurt was sure bile was threatening to rise out of his mouth as he wrings his fingers, fumbling.
Just as he turned the corner, he spots the door of the library open. The window inside is in plain view of where the horse stable and the rest of the animals are kept. He walks over the window, peeking outside to see Dave raking the dry leaves littering the ground. He notes Dave's each movement, watching the man who used those strong limbs on him for other things last night...
And there. Just then, Dave feels that someone has been watching him, and looks up to kind Kurt. He sends Kurt a sly smile, unknowingly sending quivers to the lean boy's body. This makes Kurt feel a little cheated by the teasing look he's gotten since the morning. He then remembers how his excitement made him forget how much he wanted to know how Dave tasted. He could salivate at the thought of having that massive cock down his throat. So he draws two of his fingers close to his mouth, slowly drawing it inside. Kurt knew his oral demonstration would be enough for payback, and to excite the other man for what ideas he has next----
"Hey buddy! There you are." Burt gleefully muses, walking in long strides to pull Kurt for a hug. Kurt snaps out of his lustful thoughts, and is more than elated with his father being finally with him.
"Dad! Oh God.. I just missed you too much."
"The party was two days ago, son." Burt chuckles as they part. "Yeah, still too long to be away from you."
Kurt beams up, sighing deeply and takes his father's hand. "It's time for lunch. Come, I'll let you have some peach cobbler just this once."
Lunch was filled with laughter and stories, all but how Kurt's marriage was falling apart and oh by the way, he just fucked his gamekeeper last night.
No matter how picturesque the ambience is, with blooming fresh flowers littering the garden overlooking form the patio with a elegant marble fountain in the middle of it all, Kurt has to exert much effort in shoving his thoughts away.
With Burt in between juggling the stressors running Hummel Industries hand him and his health battles, Kurt prefers keeping it hush. He is well aware of what his father picture him to be. Rich, married, and easily just tucked at home without having to lift a finger. And so he decided a long time ago that he is a man now. He can carry on with this, solve it and try not to mess it all up. Kurt was willing to endure anything he can if it meant sparing his father of his woes.
He secretly cherishes the moments he spends with his father. They can keep talking about anything, or take comfort in silence. Either way, it speaks so much about how Kurt loves Burt. But to be real, the Hummels didn't share any common interests. In between sharing same opinions of current events and the social circle, what they mostly talk about are things they want to know about each other even if they would normally never even bother to know. Kurt nods and listens as his father discusses picking up a taxi terminal as a business venture and Burt fights off the confused look on his face as Kurt recounts his extreme desire to see a reopened musical from Broadway in Chicago.
They sip tea and munch on peach cobbler as Kurt promised, the time ticks too fast and Burt has to leave.
"Nothing beats a day when I get to see you, kid." Burt leans in and pulls Kurt in a tight hug.
"Imagine the day I cook pot roast and let you have some!" Kurt squeaks, knowing his father's soft spot (and insanely caloric cravings) for food.
"That's just uncalled for, buddy!" Burt gushes jokingly. "But I see you, happy and glowing and-- just everything you deserve, you have." He opens up his arms and stretches them wide, as if to remind his own son of the great extent of his mansion. "You've got everything your mother would have wanted you to get."
They exchange another embrace. He merely watches his father walk away, letting his chance to come clean slip away from his hands once again.
Hours have passed, and Kurt moves on with his day. The rest of the afternoon he spends tending on the garden. There were budding ones that needed watering, and some baby weeds that needed pulling out. Something so relaxing evens out Kurt's wracked-out mind. Not only does it make the house a prettier sight, but he finds that there's a nice albeit far view of Dave at work. The broad man's rippling muscles is working on lifting sacks of feeds from the jeep to the shelters. Kurt can't help but watch as Dave's arms gleaming with sweat flex with every lift, and the manly strain on his face. All he wanted to do is to run his hands all over those arms, skim it to his hard chest and dip of his navel…
Dave seems to be done with his work, and Kurt watches him enter the back door of the servant's kitchen. Glancing sideways, he quickly makes his way to where Dave is.
Kurt enters the kitchen to find Dave bending over the sink, ridding his face and hands of dirt and dust. Dave makes a sharp turn around at the sound of the door opening.
"Do you always keep an eye on your employees, or is it just with me?" Dave coyly remarks.
A smirk creeps up Kurt's lips. "Are you always this forward with your boss, or am I an exception?"
Ever so slowly he walks toward Dave, until he pins him to the kitchen counter. He brings up his index finger, tracing Dave's bottom lip. With this, Dave brings a hand up to cup Kurt's cheek. Their face and entire body get intimately close, chests pressed together. All it takes is for Dave to dip down to capture Kurt in a kiss. They start slow, with lips repeatedly smacking. Dave snakes in his tongue into Kurt's mouth, ever so smoothly gliding against each other. Kurt lifts the hem of Dave's shirt to touch skin. They caress and palm each other all over, until Kurt's hand find the button of Dave's jeans.
"Wait. We could get walked in." Dave worriedly whispers against Kurt's swollen lips.
Kurt stares into Dave. In a split second, he remembers the choreographed life he's had to endure, that he's had to claim as something that made him happy. But when Dave is up against him, as the share the same air to breathe, Kurt realizes that at this very moment he doesn't mind. "I don't care." He pecks Dave's mouth for a moment. "I want you. I want to taste you. Right now."
And maybe if it's any other circumstance, Dave would refuse. He would be proper, and decline the proposition. But it's Kurt… this man who's made him jump fast strides from acquaintance to wanting to be touching a part of him if every moment possible allowed it. This man who looks like a dream, a dream he thought he could never have.
But he knows it's real, not some form of imagination as he hears the grating of zipper being opened. He looks down, groaning as Kurt frees his straining cock from the slit of his boxers. And when Kurt looks up at him, hair messed up and lips puckered red his dick twitches in interest. Kurt slowly pumps with his hand, as his other hand travels to Dave's hard tummy. He marvels at the precome almost leaking out of the slit. He looks at Dave as he teasingly brushes the tip of his cock, licking after Dave's juice. Dave couldn't hold off as a low groan escaped him, his hands gripping the counter tightly as he stopped to take Kurt's face and just pump in. Kurt hollows his cheeks as he takes the thick girth into his mouth, sucking and lapping his tongue all over. With one hand he holds the rest of Dave's shaft and with the other he unzips his own pants, sneaking in to his briefs and pumping his wet length. Just then, Kurt pauses. He keeps still and merely runs his tongue all of the velvet heat in his mouth, and he groans. Dave lets out a long moan, and threads his hand into Kurt's hair, as he experimentally makes shallow thrusts into the wet heat. This makes Kurt purr, continuing to fondle himself and steadily lapping on Dave's hardness. Dave's thrusts pick up speed and depth. He pumps in and out on Kurt's mouth, all along with their eyes on each other.
Dave feels Kurt tense up, and soon Kurt is coming all over the kitchen floor. With the sight of Kurt finding his orgasm over pleasuring him, he thrusts faster and deeper, hitting behind Kurt's throat each time. It doesn't take long until he tries to pull off, not wanting to make Kurt choke. But Kurt hold him tight on the hips, the head of his cock still wrapped on Kurt's lips. Kurt licks the underside of the head, and swallows each drop of come filling on his mouth.
Dave grabs hold of Kurt's arms to guide him to his feet, and they share a gentle kiss. A kiss that they keep for as long as they can, for as long as they can pretend that they can take their time with no worry.
In his pajamas and robe, Kurt sits in front of a boudoir. He carefully wipes the serum with his fingertips. For the first time in so many years, the reflection in front of him isn't a man who looks flawless, but someone who looks satisfied and glowing.
Ever since his oral encounter with Dave on the kitchen, followed by the most sincere kisses they shared, all Kurt could ever think of is him. All he could ever think is how tomorrow, maybe they could actually sneak to talk… well, at least try to talk. The mere sight of Dave brings his brain to overdriven lust.
He snaps out of his thinking as he hears his phone ring. Blaine's name and picture is flashing on the screen, and for a second Kurt hesitates to pick it up. But before he can thoroughly think about it, he's pressed the green button.
Slight static disturbed the other line. "Babe! I tried calling you as soon as I got here, but everything got crazy and I didn't."
Kurt sighs exasperatedly. "It's fine, I guess. I mean, I understand."
"You sound sad."
"I am, a little…"
"Maybe while I'm gone, you can find things to do. A class you can enroll in or a hobby you could learn?"
Kurt's mood picks up, hearing Blaine say such caring words. Yet, the rare moment didn't even last long enough to make him smile.
"God knows you could use some actual doing of something. Do you know that inactivity makes you sluggish and depressed? You have to move around more, other than picking on your fancy salad." Blaine jokingly huffs.
"Oh…" Kurt closes his eyes and sighs heavily once more. There. That was the reason he wanted to reject the call. Some insult was enough to bring his entire day down, and by the end of it no less. "I---um, I just have a headache, is all. I need to lie down."
Blaine is oblivious to Kurt's hurt feelings and simply says goodbye. "Okay, then. I'll talk to you tomorrow if I find time. Remember what I told you, okay? I love you!"
Before Kurt can even try and pretend to answer the same words back, he finds the other line dead.
He looks at himself in the mirror, his sky light eyes staring back at him. Tears threaten to fall, as his eyes glisten. He sadly laughs at the fact that Blaine could make him feel so bad about himself all the time, even when the man was thousands of miles away.
A rapping on the glass door to the balcony makes Kurt jump out of his seat. His heartbeat picks up pace, as he panics and tries to come up with what to do. An intruder! A burglar! Some serial killer who collects the skin of his victims and turn them into coats! At that moment he spots the universal remote at the foot of the bed and immediately presses the button to flip the blinds open. He runs for the telephone to dial 911, but as he picks up the receiver and glances at who is on the other side of the glass door, his mouth falls open out of surprise.
Arms wrapped around his middle even with a thick leather and fleece bomber jacket on but only in slippers and jogging pants is Dave, slightly trembling as wisps of cool air escaped in his breath.