(not actually a fox)

and my name's not fred.

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Lovers alone wear sunlight

fox!Kurt/Blaine, NC-17, 2.5K words

ff.net & ao3

credit for the title goes to ee cummings. basically a PWP woohoo. half-betaed of sorts. warning for sex of the animal hybrid/human variety. knotting but not inside someone, rimming, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it comeplay. also Kurt is more animal than the usual kitty!Kurt, so maybe warning for that?

*

The ground beneath them was warm and moist, freshly dampened by an afternoon shower, and the sun peeking through the tall web-like branches of the trees towering above them burnished a luster of gold on Kurt’s skin…

There was no sound - Blaine didn’t know if animals smelled a predator lurking or a pair mating, but they never came close when he and Kurt were doing this - no sound but Kurt’s harsh panting in his ear, the crackling of a leaf under his knee or the subtle dry murmur of hands mapping skin. All Blaine could see and feel and hear was Kurt, in charge and possession of his body. It was as if every primal instinct Kurt came out during sex, whether he was pressing Blaine into the ground and driving into him, his body restraining Blaine better than any rope could; or licking and lapping at his cock with his sky-colored eyes fixed on him, assessing his prey.

And Blaine couldn’t look away when Kurt sucked him - he couldn’t look away right now.

Kurt’s permanently berry-stained lips were soft and wet on him, never taking him in but showering his cock with luscious, hot kisses, his thin, pointy tongue darting out to taste Blaine’s sweaty skin or lap at an escaping droplet of precome at the head. His eyes, warm and calculating, were watching Blaine intently, gauging every reaction. There wasn’t an ounce of innocence in them, every lick having its intent and wrecking Blaine a little further, each gesture with its own goal and dear Lord did it succeed.

Blaine’s bare feet were digging in the soil, cramped and dirty already, sweat dripping from the back of his knees and down his calves. Kurt stopped his ministrations when he smelled the sour tang of Blaine’s sweat and drove his greedy mouth to the vulnerable skin of his armpits, to the tender flesh of his thighs, to suck and taste; and Blaine cried out loud, his cock neglected in favor of hairless, defenseless skin. Helplessly, he let his hips twitch up, searching for contact when there was none, and Kurt hummed in disapproval somewhere between his legs.

There was a crackle of leaves when Kurt moved, hauling himself up to cover Blaine’s body with his own. Every little hair on Kurt’s torso, on his belly, on his calves was rubbing on Blaine’s skin on the way up and he was whimpering pathetically, the fur a maddening tease against his oversensitive body. Kurt’s tail was swishing peacefully somewhere behind them, brushing at random against Blaine’s tense legs, and Blaine could taste himself on Kurt’s tongue and lips when they kissed.

He brought his hands up to Kurt’s hair, matted with dirt and knotted with small blades of grass and tiny sticks of wood inadvertently picked up in the forest. Blaine scratched at Kurt’s long, pointy ears, feeling the short, velvety fur beneath his fingertips and humming in silent laughter when Kurt groaned into the kiss. He cut himself off when Kurt pressed down, slotting their cocks together, and they panted against each other’s mouth for a moment before finding a rhythm, pushing against each other in some sort of disorganized dance, and Blaine suddenly felt dizzy with it when seconds before he was lax, boneless, spread on the ground and just taking it - but now Kurt was driving relentlessly against him and using Blaine’s overwhelmed body for his own pleasure, and it felt like a giant, startling change.

Blaine opened his eyes to find Kurt staring right back at him, his plump mouth open and curled up at the corners into some private, Mona Lisa-like smile, and Blaine’s heart fluttered in his chest at the sight before he leant in to press a kiss to Kurt’s lips, moaning and smiling coyly when the movement changed the angle at which they were fucking against each other, burrowing his face into Kurt’s sweaty, velutinous neck, kissing breathlessly and moving his hips in tight, prudent circles against Kurt’s thick shaft, pushing his sweaty forehead into Kurt’s neck and molding his trembling hands against his ass, shifting at each tickle of Kurt’s tail against his joints.

There was a murmured “Wait”, then a terrifying second where Kurt moved away from him to fumble around for Blaine’s pants and tug at them, making quick work of finding the little tube of lube and thrusting it into Blaine’s care. Kurt watched him intently as he coated his fingers and brought them to the part of Kurt’s ass, under his tail and beneath his round, fully swollen balls. For a minute Blaine felt like a regular teenager having messy, juvenile sex in his bedroom with another fully human boy; then Kurt’s uneven claws scratched lightly against his arm and he started to press in, taking in how Kurt’s body went lax against his, his eyelashes fluttering and his ears going flat against his head, his hands sliding against Blaine’s arm and roaming freely, pressing against his peaked nipples, his shoulders, his fingers a fleeting touch upon his lips and the exposed pit of his throat.

He stretched Kurt quickly, finger after finger until he had three pushed to the last knuckle and a panting, aching foxboy fucking himself on his fingers, until Kurt took the reins again and stood up and away, and Blaine hurried to lube up his erection, putting his sticky hands to Kurt’s hips to guide him down, falling obediently to his back when Kurt pushed him and then he groaned, low, a subdued echo in his own ears when all he could focus on was Kurt’s tight heat around him, a vice grip of warm, twitching boy around his greased cock.

Once again Kurt took - putting a fleeting kiss to Blaine’s lips before sitting straighter, back arched and mouth open in blissful agony, his dirty palms pressed against the round curve of Blaine’s shoulders to support his weight as he bounced on the sweet cock inside him, biting his lips with too-sharp teeth and opening his eyes to look at Blaine, dead in the eyes, and stupidly that made Blaine blush and advert his look, bashful even with gorgeous, animal Kurt taking his cock repeatedly as if it were a toy made for him, naked for the sparse fur on his body, backlit by the golden sun and glazed in light emerald by the hundreds of trees around them.

His balls were aching, his desire a water left to simmer but finally boiling, the earlier tease having stripped him down to his nerves. Kurt was making those little sounds, soft growls that resembled purrs, his tail wandering in a caress on Blaine’s thighs, and Blaine had been hard for so long - his cock, his whole body felt like an overcharged battery, electric and too-hot, pulsing with blood even so tightly wrapped, so perfectly used when Kurt was taking him like that, imperious and sure, fucking him even when Blaine’s greasy prick was buried in his ass.

Kurt kept moving, up and down on him and hands wandering to pinch his nipples, push back Blaine’s hair, tease his own cock lightly, and Blaine couldn’t stop looking when Kurt was touching himself, his pointy, thick erection so different to Blaine’s own, the color angrier and oh God, did Blaine know about it - the taste of his come somewhat muskier, dirtier than Blaine’s. Kurt was slick in his own hand, shiny and succulent-looking, and Blaine couldn’t tear his eyes away, couldn’t keep his hips from fucking up into Kurt’s hot, sweet hole, not when Kurt was grasping himself with more force and fucking up into his fist, eyes lowered there too, to Blaine’s hands holding him and moving him and guiding him where there was no need to, when these things were so instinctive to Kurt, easy and shameless.

The light summer breeze was cooling the sweaty back of his thighs, and the openness of it all, the dirty, hard ground beneath him and the primal hunger with which Kurt was taking him, all of it made it impossible for Blaine not to come. He closed his eyes, hard until they hurt and all he could see was a glimmer of red in the dark, dug his feet in the soil and his fingers into Kurt’s hips and his cock deeper into his ass, and Kurt was making those little breathy sounds, his hand making a wet noise on his cock and Blaine felt him come before he could open his eyes to see it.

Kurt was panting above him, spent and gorgeous, squeezing Blaine through his own orgasm and holding onto his cock tightly, his fist unmoving. It made Blaine want to bat Kurt’s hand away, always, when he saw Kurt holding the knot and keeping pressure on it, clear liquid oozing from the tip of his erection, his body ready for breeding - built for it and not for fucking leisurely - made Blaine want to slide his lips down that mouthwatering cock and see if they could fit around the bulbous knot.

He kept staring at it, grinding his hips minutely into Kurt’s wet ass through the last tremors of his orgasm, always amazed to see Kurt’s balls swell down slowly as Kurt’s iron grip on his cock loosened until he let it fall down, wet and sticky and purplish. Blaine leaned up for a kiss and Kurt chuckled against his mouth, raising himself up and off Blaine’s dick. Kurt shushed him when Blaine moaned in disagreement, pressing a peck against his lips before pulling away, and Blaine suddenly felt cold and exposed, his cock finally limp against his thigh. He sat up, crossing his legs with some kind of absurd modesty, and watched Kurt fall down on a bed of moss, bathed in copper sunlight.

Kurt rolled over a few times before settling on his back, his arachnidian hands wandering down his throat, his torso, the tufted expanse of his lower belly; palming over his cock and his thighs. He sighed a little, spreading his legs, when he prodded at his hole, and Blaine suddenly couldn’t look away, once again warm all over and absorbed in the bubble of Kurt’s intimacy, a host in a den in the middle of winter. He watched, transfixed, as Kurt lifted his leg up in the air and bent down to lick at his swollen hole, and Blaine let out a strangled moan.

“Blaine?”

Kurt was staring at him with an unimpressed look on his face, still bent in half. Blaine cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“What are you doing?”

“Cleaning myself,” Kurt huffed out, and Blaine couldn’t say anything else because Kurt was going right back at it, licking in broad strokes and Blaine’s cock was starting to get interested, hardening against his thigh.

“Can I do it for you?”

Blaine bit his lips when Kurt looked at him a little incredulously, then blushed when Kurt shrugged minutely, straightening up against the trunk of the tree behind him and spreading his legs, bending them at the knee and burrowing his toes in the deep cushion of moss under him, baring his hole, shiny with spit and Blaine’s come, still an angry pink color. Kurt looked at Blaine expectantly, looking uninterested and skeptical, almost daring him to follow through.

And so Blaine did - he got on his hands and knees and shuffled towards Kurt, feeling stupid with his half-hard cock dangling between his legs, his blush darkening when Kurt’s eyes found it and his pretty lips opened. Kurt’s legs twitched, and Blaine put his hands on Kurt’s thighs to keep him from closing them. Kurt relaxed a little when Blaine crouched down in front of him, his knees digging in the soft ground, his cock a little swollen in his sheath, and Blaine nuzzled the bulge quickly before moving further down, opening his mouth and kissing once over Kurt’s hole, lazily, his lips tender and almost reverent, his mouth as plush as he could make it against the sore flesh.

Just as he was about to move away, Kurt’s hand shot out and grabbed the fine hair at the base of his neck, holding him in his place, and Blaine whimpered a little before licking obediently over Kurt’s hole, tasting his own come and Kurt himself, earthy and dirty, and his cock couldn’t stop hardening, little by little, getting stiffer with every lick, every sharp intake of breath Kurt took above him, every tiny pull of his hair in Kurt’s solid grip.

Eventually, Blaine let his shaky knees give out underneath him and situated himself on his belly, grinding his cock into the soft moss, grabbing Kurt’s thighs and diving once more, sealing his lips around Kurt’s hole in a semblance of kiss, licking harder over his hole, his whole face covered in sweat and saliva and everything smelling like Kurt. He drove his tongue into Kurt’s hole and Kurt cried above him, strangled and surprised but relaxing quickly as Blaine licked and lapped at him, dizzy with it all and trembling with the heady scent of Kurt, absentmindedly rubbing himself against the ground and blushing, stupidly blushing because it all felt so good and so dirty, the green smell of the trees and the soft summer breeze, Kurt’s tail tickling his chin and he was coming before he could comprehend it, moaning against Kurt’s hole and grinding his hips against the ground, huffing out two, three short breaths and he was gone, pressing his forehead against Kurt’s thigh to catch his breath, his eyes tightly shut.

The grip of Kurt’s hand in his hair had gone loose, his fingers combing through Blaine’s hair almost comfortingly, and Blaine turned over to look at him, shifting on his back and grimacing when he felt the wet grass under him. Kurt was looking at him with surprised eyes, a little teasing and a little wary, and Blaine smiled at him, half in sheepish reassurance and half because he could not look at Kurt without smiling at him, and Kurt bent in half to kiss him, holding his face between his hands, smacking their lips together a few times before he pressed with more intent, his tongue tickling at Blaine’s lips and then at Blaine’s own, open-mouthed and a little breathless, and Blaine let himself go limp.

“I don’t think that’s a human thing,” Kurt whispered softly, so close Blaine could feel the vibration of his voice against his lips.

“I’m pretty sure it’s a you and me thing,” Blaine murmured in response, raising his arm to pet at one of Kurt’s ears, feeling it twitch in his hand.

“I’m pretty sure you’re a pervert,” Kurt echoed, squeezing at Blaine’s sticky, limp dick once, and when Blaine retaliated by molding his hand over Kurt’s swollen sheath, feeling the wet flesh where his erection had started to peek out, Kurt’s startled moan echoed softly through the woods.

Tagged: #fox!kurt #lanilaniwho #bespectacledcolfer #hybrid!au #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #klaine #fanwork: mine #fanwork: glee #notcallingyouaghost #crissonastick #fifionline #lemonyandbeatrice #fic: mine

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  7. lemonyandbeatrice said: Oh my god I love your writing.
  8. hazelandglasz said: ooooooh so goooooooood
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