Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9068359.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Glee
  Relationship:
      Kurt_Hummel/Sebastian_Smythe, Kurt_Hummel/Santa_Claus
  Character:
      Kurt_Hummel, Santa_Claus_(Sebastian_Smythe)
  Additional Tags:
      Rape/Non-con_Elements, Extremely_Underage, Age_Difference, Santa_Kink,
      Naive_Kurt, Child_Kurt
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-12-26 Words: 2680
****** Kissing Santa Claus ******
by _6661__(cazmalfoy)
Summary
     Kurt was woken up by a loud bang, and immediately went downstairs to
     investigate. He was very pleased to discover Santa Claus by the tree,
     even if he did look different to how Kurt expected.
Notes
     *** WARNING ***
     This is extremely non-consensual. Kurt is extremely underage (seven
     years old) and Sebastian is a complete stranger. This also completely
     fucks everything Christmas related.
     If you're offended by these, please click the back button.
     ***
     I was originally planning on turning this into a role-play fic, but
     as you can see, this certainly took a very different turn.
     Please. Please. Proceed with caution.
     Also, I've tagged this as Kurt/Sebastian, because that's who I
     pictured as Santa, but it quite literally could be anyone.
Kurt was jerked awake by a strange noise coming from downstairs. 
He knew it couldn’t be his parents, because they had gone to bed hoursago. Kurt
had tried to follow suit, but he had been too excited and hadn’t been able to
drift off. It felt like he had only just gotten to sleep, when he had been
roughly woken up by the noise.
Swallowing nervously and feeling a throb of excitement pulse through him, Kurt
swung his legs off the side of the bed. He quickly slipped his feet in his pink
bunny slippers, before tip-toeing down the hall.
The door to his mommy and daddy’s room was closed, and there was nothing to
indicate that they had heard the noise, but he still kept quiet.
If he was right about who was downstairs - and boy did he wish he was right -
he didn’t want anyone else to see and ruin everything.
When he got to the bottom of the stairs, Kurt grinned in delight when he saw
that he had been right. Standing, in front of the Christmas tree, wearing his
customary red suit was Santa Claus himself. 
He looked a lot thinner than pictures had led Kurt to believe, but there was
still no mistaking who this man was. 
There was even a bright red sack at his feet, bulging with presents.
“Santa?” Kurt whispered, unable to stop the word coming from his mouth.
The man dressed in red whirled around with a surprised expression on his face.
From the front, he was also younger than Kurt would have expected and he didn’t
have a beard. Maybe, he shaved it off and it hasn’t grown back yet,Kurt thought
to himself.
In the blink of an eye Santa recovered from his surprise and he grinned over at
Kurt. “I believe you’re supposed to be in bed, Mr Hummel,” he chided and Kurt
shuffled on the spot, nervously tugging at his pyjamas.
“I tried to sleep,” Kurt defended himself. “But I heard a noise and I thought
it was you. I’m so happy you’re here, Santa,” he gushed, bouncing a little on
the balls of his feet.
Santa’s eyebrow quirked up in amusement. “Well, I’m glad to be here, Kurt,” he
replied, a twinkle obvious in his green eyes. “Tell me, have you been a good
boy or a naughty boy this year?”
Kurt frowned. “I thought you knew everything about who was good and bad.”
“Oh I do,” Santa answered with a breeze. “But I want to hear whether youthink
you’ve been a good enough boy to deserve these presents.” He waved an arm to
indicate the pile under the tree. “Otherwise, I’ll have to take them all back
to the elves at the North Pole.”
The thought of not getting any presents made Kurt’s eyes widen in fear and he
shook his head. “No!” he exclaimed, louder than he meant to. He winced at the
volume and waited for the sound to wake everyone up. When no one stirred, he
swore, “I’ve been a good boy, I promise.”
Santa smiled and crossed over to the large armchair by the fire, the one that
had been left there just for him. “Why don’t you come sit on Santa’s lap and
tell him what a good boy you’ve been?” he suggested, sitting down and patting
his thigh encouragingly.
Kurt grinned and practically bounded across the room. He had loved sitting on
Santa’s lap at the mall, and that hadn’t even been the realSanta. He was sure,
this version would be so much better.
Before he could sit down, Santa raised a hand and Kurt skidded to a stop. “Are
those new pyjamas?” the man asked quietly.
Kurt felt a blush colour his cheeks. He hadn’t wanted to wear the pyjamas, but
his mommy had bought them for him, and he knew she’d be upset with him
otherwise. Silently, he nodded his head and, when Santa twirled his finger
around, turned in a small circle for the man.
“They look gorgeous on you,” Santa complimented, offering Kurt a smile that
made him blush again. “Now, come on. Up you come.”
The embarrassment Kurt had felt disappeared swiftly, and he clambered up onto
Santa’s lap, positioning himself so he was sitting on Santa’s left thigh, with
his legs draped across the other.
Santa’s arms automatically went around Kurt’s waist, holding onto his hips to
stop himself from sliding. “Now, what did you want for Christmas?” Santa asked,
his hand sliding over Kurt’s hip in a very distracting way.
“Erm.” Kurt bit his lip as he tried to remember what he had asked for. “Some
new CD’s,” he eventually remembered. “Some sheet music. And…” He trailed off
with a yelp when he felt Santa’s hand on one of his ass cheeks. “Santa, you
can’t do that!” he squeaked.
Santa chuckled. “Sorry, baby, but you were slipping.” Kurt hadn’t felt like he
was falling, but if Santa said he had, then that must be okay. “I’ll tell you
what. Why don’t you move a little, and then you won’t nearly fall again?”
Kurt nodded and scooted to the side, closer to Santa’s body, but the man shook
his head. “That’s not what I meant,” Santa said, putting both hands on Kurt’s
hips. “Why don’t you sit this way?”
Without giving Kurt chance to react, Santa had manoeuvred him around so Kurt
was sitting with his back against Santa’s chest.
“Is… Is that better?” Kurt squeaked, feeling his cheeks flush with - something
as he was pulled backwards. He wasn’t embarrassed. He was hot. Suddenly the
room felt a lot warmer than it had earlier.
Santa hummed and slipped one arm around Kurt’s body, holding him tight. “It’s
almost perfect,” he whispered, his breath feeling hot in Kurt’s ear.
Before Kurt could question why it wasn’t completely perfect, Santa reached
between their bodies and Kurt felt fingers undo the buttons on the butt flap of
his pyjamas.
“Santa!” Kurt exclaimed, forgetting to keep his voice down.
Santa immediately shushed him as he pulled down the flap of material, exposing
Kurt’s butt. “Quiet, baby. You don’t want mommy and daddy to come downstairs
now, do you?” Kurt shook his head, biting his lip painfully. “You do know what
happens when adults see me right?”
Kurt whimpered and shook his head. “What?”
“I die,” Santa answered simply. “That’s why I look so different from the
pictures. Someone saw the old Santa and he died. I took his place.”
He gasped in horror. Kurt had never known that. He couldn’t believe he had been
so stupid to nearly get Santa caught by an adult; Kurt would have ruined
Christmas for sure then.
“I’m sorry, Santa,” Kurt whispered. “I’ll be a good boy from now on, I
promise.”
Santa grinned. “Oh, you’re already a good boy, Kurt.” He placed his hands on
Kurt’s hips. “You just need to move back a little, otherwise you’ll fall
again.”
When Kurt made to do as instructed, Santa tightened his grip on Kurt’s hips and
he was actually lifted a little as he was pulled back. Kurt didn’t question
what was going on; after all, this was Santa Claus. There was nothing he could
do that was wrong or bad. He could always be trusted.
“Santa?” he whispered in confusion when he felt something warm and hard press
against his butt as he was lowered back down. “What’s that?” he asked,
wriggling around a little in Santa’s lap, trying to get away from… whatever it
was, but he couldn’t.
Santa chuckled low in his throat. “It’s my cock, baby,” he whispered. “It gets
hard when I’m around little boys who believe in me.”
Kurt swallowed nervously. The… cock felt strangely warm against his bare ass.
“It helps me know if you’ve been bad or good, as well,” Santa continued,
inflaming Kurt’s curiosity.
“How?” Kurt asked.
He felt Santa grin against his neck. Without saying a word, he reached between
their bodies and Kurt felt a sharp pain against the entrance to his body. “Like
this,” Santa whispered, pulling Kurt back tighter even as the pain increased.
Kurt let out a soft cry and shook his head as he tried to squirm away. “Santa,
stop,” he begged, trying to get free from the man’s grip. “It hurts.” Tears
were forming in the corner of his eye, but Kurt refused to let them fall. He
wasn’t going to be a baby in front of Santa; it just hurt somuch.
Santa chuckled. “That’s because you’re being a naughty boy, baby.” He tightened
his grip on Kurt and pulled him further back, pressing more of his cock into
Kurt’s body, inch by painful inch. “If you’re a good boy and relax, it won’t
hurt as much.”
He tried do as he said, Kurt really did. He didn’t want Santa to think that he
was a naughty boy and then not leave presents. But his ass was on fire. He’d
never felt anything like it in his life.
“Please,” he begged, shaking his head as the tears finally started to fall. “I
can’t. It hurts too much. Please stop.”
Santa hummed sympathetically, but didn’t stop inching his way into Kurt’s body.
He slid one hand down’s Kurt’s front, keeping a firm grip on his hip with the
other, and cupped Kurt through his pyjamas.
To Kurt’s confusion, he felt his own penis twitch under the touch and he
started to feel strange down there. Everything was starting to feel really hot.
“How old are you, Kurt?” Santa asked, his hand never stopping rubbing.
Kurt opened his mouth to answer, but all that came out was a strangled moan.
“S-S-Seven,” he managed to stammer out.
“My, you’re a big boy for seven, aren’t you?” Santa cooed, tightening his grip
on Kurt through the pyjamas. Kurt bucked up into the hand without any conscious
thought and Santa chuckled. “See, that doesn’t feel so bad, does it?” he
whispered, resuming his stroking.
Kurt was torn. On one hand, the pain is his ass was so strong, he couldn’t stop
crying and he wanted nothing more than to get away from Santa. But on the
other, the hand against his penis felt so good, he didn’t want it to ever stop.
Suddenly, Santa stopped his movement and moved his hand away, drawing a moan
from Kurt. Santa laughed and pressed a kiss to Kurt’s neck. “It’s okay, baby,”
he whispered, putting his hands back on Kurt’s hips. “I just can’t tell if
you’re a good boy yet, or not.”
“How…” Kurt gasped and shook his head when Santa pressed his hips up a little
bit. “How else can you tell?”
Behind him, Santa chuckled and tightened his grip on Kurt’s hips. “Like this.”
Using the strength he had over Kurt, Santa was able to lift Kurt out of his lap
slightly. Kurt let out a relieved sigh when the cock inside his body slowly
slid until it was barely out. It was over. The pain wasn’t there anymore.
He barely got chance to experience the lack of pain, before Santa was pulling
him back down quickly. The movement was harder than any other Kurt had felt
before and he let out of an agonised yelp when Santa’s cock was thrust
painfully back into his body.
“No!” he begged, trying to claw Santa’s hands away from his hips. “Stop!
Please! I can’t!”
Santa ignored him and repeated the action, bringing Kurt down faster and harder
this time. “Fuck,” Santa whispered in Kurt’s ear, even as he repeated the
action. “You’re such a good boy. It feels so good, beautiful.”
It certainly didn’t feel good from Kurt’s side of the story. Every time Santa
lifted him, before slamming him back down felt like he was being impaled by a
red hot poker. The hands on his hips were tight and he was pretty sure he would
bruises the following morning. Not to mention, he wouldn’t be able to sit down
for a week.
The only thing that made the whole experience confusing was the stiffness of
his penis in his pyjamas. It was bouncing with each lift up and down, and the
tip was brushing against the material in a very pleasurable way.
“Please, don’t do this,” Kurt begged. “Stop!”
Santa pulled him back and Kurt bolted in surprise when he pain he had been
feeling suddenly switched. Something inside him had been ignited, and a strange
electrical current flooded through his body, originating in his ass.
“Santa?” Kurt groaned. He let his head fall back against, Santa’s shoulder and
closed his eyes as he felt that same feeling. “What’s that?” he whispered.
Santa repeated the action and Kurt’s back arched against his will. “That’s your
prostate, baby. Does it feel good?”
Kurt didn’t feel like he enough words to explain what he felt like, so
wordlessly nodded his head.
“That’s good,” Santa cooed. “Because that means you’ve been a good boy.”
Blue eyes flew open and a grin spread across Kurt’s face. “Really?” he
breathed.
Santa nodded and pressed his lips to Kurt’s neck. “And do you know what good
little boys get?” he asked. Kurt shook his head, waiting for Santa to tell him.
“Early Christmas present.s”
His words filled Kurt with happiness. He wouldn’t have to wait until morning to
get a present. He could find out what at least one of the mysterious shaped
packages under the tree were.
When he moved to get off of Santa’s lap, the hands on his hips tightened again.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Santa panted in his ear. He sounded like he
had been running for hours, Kurt thought.
Kurt bit his lip. “You said I could have a present,” he whispered.
Santa chuckled and slammed him back down onto his cock, harder than before. “I
did,” he agreed. “And I’m about to give you it.”
He lifted Kurt up and down twice more, before Kurt felt a warm, wet liquid
spilling into his body, accompanied by a groan from Santa. 
It felt like he had soiled himself.
“Did I do that?” Kurt wailed, feeling a fresh wave of tears wash over him. He
was never going to get a present now.
Santa continued bucking his hips up into his body a few more times. “No, baby.
I did,” he panted. “That’s your present. You have Santa’s cum in your pretty
little hole. Hopefully someone got you a plug, so you can keep in there all
day.”
Kurt didn’t understand what Santa was talking about, but before he could ask,
he felt a hand press firmly against his own penis and he felt a warmth inside
his pyjamas.
“See?” Santa whispered, running one hand over Kurt’s chest. “Even little boys
cum when they get excited.” Kurt didn’t speak as he fell back against Santa.
“You were such a good boy for me, Kurt,” he whispered, peppering kisses against
Kurt’s neck.
Kurt hummed and turned his head on Santa’s shoulder so he could press his face
against his neck. He felt so sleepy, he thought to himself.
He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, but Kurt was dimly aware of being
lifted from Santa’s lap. The now-soft cock slipping from his body made a gross
noise, but Kurt was too tired to care.
Kurt didn’t resist when Santa laid him down on his front on the couch. He did
let out a pleased moan when he felt lips press against his used entrance, which
was still wet from Santa’s cum.
When Santa snapped his butt flap closed and covered Kurt with a blanket from
the couch, he forced his eyes open.
He watched silently as Santa fastened his own trousers back up and picking his
sack up from the floor, before moving over to the unlit fireplace.
“Merry Christmas, Kurt,” Santa whispered, glancing back over at Kurt.
“Merry Christmas, Santa,” the young boy murmured in response, watching the red
suited man step into the fireplace and disappear from sight in a flurry of
magical snowflakes.
*
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