Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/367654.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Glee, Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Blaine_Anderson/Kurt_Hummel, Blaine_Anderson/Kurt_Hummel/Dean_Winchester
  Character:
      Blaine_Anderson, Kurt_Hummel, Dean_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Dubious_Consent, Rough_Sex, Underage_Sex, Sex_Pollen, Anal_Sex, Explicit
      Sexual_Content, Threesome_-_M/M/M, Barebacking, Fuck_Or_Die, incestuous
      overtones
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-03-23 Words: 3437
****** 'Till You Feel the Daylight ******
by aubreyli
Summary
     A "Fuck or Die" scenario, facilitated by a convenient plot device
     (also known as a lust spell)
Notes
     Title comes from Melissa Ferrick's "Drive," which I had playing on
     loop as I wrote this.
Out of the three of them, Dean and one of the kids (and shit,Dean thinks, they
really are just kids), get hit the hardest.  The kid – Kurt – is already
writhing and panting in the backseat, hands desperately tearing at his
clothes.  The other one, Blaine (that’s not a name, that’s an appliance,his
brain unhelpfully supplies), is still unconscious.  He’s probably going to have
one hell of a goose egg when he wakes up, but at least he’s not concussed or
hey – dead.
 
Dean tries his best to not look at them, hands white-knuckled on the steering
wheel and gritting his teeth to fight the heat that roils and churns and grows
deep in his belly with every passing second.  The kids will be fine – they’ll
have each other, but Dean needs to get back to the motel now,find Sam (and
God,how fucked up is his life that fucking his little brotheris actually the
lesserof two evils?) and take care of this before it burns him alive.
 
“Dean,” Kurt moans urgently, his bare skin just pale enough to be visible in
the dark car.  “Dean, it hurts. I—I feel like I’m burning up.”
 
Fuck,the kid’s practically young enough to be his son,and his brain is
screaming at him to get it together, but damn if that high, reedy voice of his
isn’t going straight to Dean’s cock.  “It’s the spell,” Dean growls out,
tensing his thighs to keep them still.  “It’s designed to raise your body
temperature until you die, unless it gets fucked out of your system.”
 
“Oh, so that – that thing back there, it really was—”
 
“Yeah,” Dean says, and if he wasn’t feeling like clawing off his own skin, he’d
totally be kinder and more sympathetic toward yet another kid who’s probably
never going to look at the dark the same way again.  “It was a demon.  But
don’t worry, lust spells are easy to get rid of.  As soon as we get back to the
motel, I’ll get you and your boyfriend a room, okay?”
 
Kurt doesn’t say anything, and Dean looks up at him through the rearview
mirror, worried, and nearly swerves off the road when he sees that the kid’s
got his cock out and is trying to jerk himself off, face flushed and mouth
bitten-red.  “H-how much longer?” he asks.
 
Dean checks the dashboard clock.  “Half an hour, forty minutes, max,” he says,
and even as the words are leaving his mouth, he knows that the kid’s not going
to be able to last that long.  Hell, he’ll be lucky if hecan last that long,
and fumbles for his cell phone so that he can send Sam a text message:  Lust
demon. Ganked it but got hit. ETA 30.  He doesn’t bother waiting for Sam’s
reply before he tosses the phone onto the passenger seat.
 
For the next ten minutes, Kurt does nothing but jerk off, his shaky, desperate
moans punctuated by sharp gasps and cut-off whimpers.  Dean hears him come,
again and again, and he wishes he had thought to bring earplugs or something,
or an icepack, because he’s pretty sure his dick can cut glass by now.  It’s
not just the way the kid sounds when he’s jerking off, or the little frustrated
wails he makes after he comes, because Dean knows that masturbation is useless
and actually makes you feel worse, but you can’t help wanting to keep doing
it.  It’s the insidious, oily voice in his head that whispers, You know what he
needs, he’s begging for it, just do it fuck him fuck him fuck him fuck him, and
it’s all Dean can do to grit his teeth and push the car just a little faster.
 
“D-Dean,” Kurt says, after a while, and fuck, he sounds wrecked. “Dean, I
don’t—I don’t think I can last.  It hurts,Dean, I feel like I’m on fire.”  He
reaches one hand behind his back and starts to squirm, and Dean’s blood pounds
in his ears when he realizes that Kurt’s fingering himself.  “Dean, help.”
 
“Look, kid—” he starts, as the voice in his head goes from a whisper to a
fucking scream.
 
“Please,” Kurt sobs, and it’s such a small sound, almost defeated, like he’s
not used to asking for help and getting it.  It kind of breaks Dean’s heart a
little, even through his fog of need, and that, more than anything else, is
what makes him pull over and turn off the engine.
 
“Hike your legs up,” Dean orders him, “Blaine’s too.”  Once Kurt complies, he
releases the catch on the front seat bench and pushes it down, unfolding it so
that it meets the backseat, forming a continuous mat.  Dean shucks off his
jacket, two layers of shirts and his pants, tossing them all over his shoulder
as he crawls toward the two teenagers pressed against the back of his car, one
still unconscious; the other wide-eyed and shaking.
 
Shit, the kid looks fucking terrified (of coursehe didn’t know what he was
asking for, he’s just a fucking kid,you sick fuck) and Dean’s just about to
fold the front seat back up and keep fucking drivingwhen Kurt makes a soft,
needy sound and spreads his legs.  His dick is rock hard, and still freshly wet
with come, and he looks so fucking wantonthat Dean literally has to close his
eyes and force himself to not just grab him and pound his pretty little ass
until he cries.
 
“You sure you want this, kid?” Dean asks gruffly, when he opens his eyes
again.  “Because once we start, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop midway,
so if you’ve got any doubts, you gotta tell me now.”
 
Kurt nods jerkily, and visibly swallows.  He doesn’t say a word; instead, he
turns around and bends himself over the back rest, arching his back just enough
to expose the little pucker between his ass cheeks.  “I’m sorry,” he murmurs,
and Dean’s pretty sure Kurt’s not talking to him.  “It just—it just hurts so
badly, and I, I need—I’m so sorry.”
 
Dean sighs and reaches into the glove compartment, feeling for the condoms and
lube that he keeps stocked in there.  He rolls a condom over his cock with a
hurried impatience that has less to do with the lust coursing through his veins
and more with wanting to get this over with so that he can get back to the
motel and drink until he forgets that he pretty much rapeda kid, no matter how
much he wanted it at the time. 
 
“You ready?” Dean asks, one last time, as he slicks up his fingers.  Kurt’s
skin is dangerously hot; he can feel the heat radiating from it even from a
good six inches away, and Dean’s pretty impressed that he’s managed to hold out
for this long, as is. 
 
He presses a fingertip at the rim of his anus, where his skin is the hottest,
and waits for Kurt to moan and rock back on it before he pushes in, slowly but
unrelentingly, all the way to the knuckle.  Kurt’s even hotter inside than he
is outside, tight and pulsing around his finger in a way that sends waves of
heat travelling up his arm and down his back to pool low in his gut.  He cries
out when Dean slides the finger in and out of him, thrusting back against it in
eager, jagged little movements. 
 
By the time Dean has three fingers pumping in and out of Kurt’s ass, the kid’s
full-on fucking himself on Dean’s fingers, moaning continuously and shamelessly
rolling his hips to get them in deeper.  Dean’s panting now, too, and he rubs
his dick along the crack of Kurt’s ass, as he curls his other hand around
Kurt’s thigh.  He fingers Kurt until every fiber of his body is shrieking that
Kurt’s ready, that he needs to fuck him now now now,until Kurt’s swearing and
begging that it’s enough, that he needs more,“Dean, your cock,I need it in me,
please,” and even then, he stubbornly forces himself to keep going.  He’s been
through this kind of thing enough times to know that the spell makes anything
and everything feel fantastic, but as soon as the spell ends, the pain comes
back, and Dean figures he’s already going to traumatize this kid enough,
without adding a sore ass to the pile.
 
He fingers Kurt until he can’t take it anymore, until he’s so hot that his head
is swimming.  Then he pulls out all three fingers at once – Kurt sobs and begs
him to please put them back, please – lines himself up, and thrusts in one,
deep, continuous stroke.
 
Kurt fucking screamswhen Dean bottoms out inside him, and twists his head back
to look at Dean, pupils blown wide and so flushed that his cheeks are almost
the same color as his lips.  “Oh God, fuck me,” he begs between harsh gasps for
air, bracing his hands against the leather seat back to give himself more
leverage to meet Dean’s thrusts.
 
Dean growls and impulsively kisses Kurt’s red, bitten mouth, choking off Kurt’s
little startled moan with his tongue.  He sits back and hauls Kurt with him,
letting the kid topple against Dean’s chest.  He holds Kurt’s thigh with one
hand and slams back into him, hard and deep, and Kurt cries out again, and then
goes sharply and suddenly silent.
 
Dean’s eyes snap to Kurt’s face.  The fear that Dean’s hurt him is like a
plunge into ice water, and shoves the searing heat back enough to let him stop
moving.  But Kurt doesn’t look pained; he looks horrified, and scared.  He’s
also not looking at Dean.  Dean follows the line of Kurt’s gaze to land on
Blaine, the boyfriend, Kurt’steenage boyfriend, whose eyes are wide, wide open.
 
“Blaine,” Kurt breathes, and there is a world of guilt and sorrow in that
word.  But even then, Kurt doesn’t try to move off Dean’s cock. 
 
Aw, damn, the kid looks like he’s about to start crying, and Dean’s done a lot
of things he’s not proud of, and he’s beena lot of things he’s not proud of,
but one thing he’s never been is a fucking homewrecker. But Blaine doesn’t look
like he’s about to dump Kurt on the spot; in fact, he looks... almost fond, and
also?  More than a little bit turned on.
 
That’s right, Dean thinks, as he glances down at the raging boner tenting
Blaine’s pants, he almost forgot: Blaine got hit with the spell too. 
 
“Blaine,” Kurt says again, pleadingly, as Blaine crawls toward him, but
whatever he wanted to say afterwards is cut off by Blaine leaning in and
kissing Kurt, open-mouthed and with enough force to press Kurt back against
Dean’s chest.
 
The kiss doesn’t last for very long, but Kurt still looks dazed when Blaine
pulls away.  “Uh,” he says, then blinks rapidly, shakes his head, and tries
again.  “Blaine, I’m so sorry, but there was this spell,and everything just
hurts—mph!”  He’s interrupted again by Blaine kissing him, longer and harder
this time, one hand cupping the back of Kurt’s neck to tilt his head for a
better angle.
 
This time, Blaine’s smiling when he pulls back, stroking Kurt’s sweaty face in
gentle, soothing strokes.  “I’m not mad,” he says quietly, reassuringly.  “How
could I be?  You saved my life.  If you hadn’t come for me, I would be...” He
pauses, clearly trying to think of a nice way to say, a dismembered corpse on a
lust demon’s sacrificial altar, and failing.  “Thank you,” he says instead. 
“And I know about the spell; I was there when the...”
 
“Demon,” Dean supplies, and Blaine looks up quickly, as though he hasn’t
realized until now that Dean is here too (which... okay, is a little insulting,
considering the fact that Deanwas the one who did most of the rescuing earlier
that night).
 
Still, all things considered, they are handling this whole cursed-to-fuck-by-a-
lust-demon thing pretty well.
 
 “I was there when the...demon was making it,” Blaine continues, fully focused
once more on Kurt.  “God, I should be apologizing to you for putting you
through this – I’m so sorry, Kurt.”
 
“Hey, no,” Kurt murmurs, shushing Blaine with two fingers pressed to his lips. 
“If I don’t get to apologize, neither do you, okay?”
 
And then they’re both smiling tearfully at each other and trying to stop each
other from apologizing while each trying to apologize, himself, and fucking
hell, Dean can feelhis teeth rotting.  He’s almost grateful (almost) when the
searing heat returns, even worse this time, shooting through his body as if his
blood has been replaced by acid.  His back bows from the sudden onslaught of
agony, and he knows that Kurt’s feeling it too, because Kurt suddenly goes
tense and lets out a low, harsh cry.
 
“Oh my God,” Kurt gasps out, clawing at Blaine’s shoulders with shaking hands
as he frantically starts working himself on Dean’s cock again, still looking
guilty as fuck.
 
For a moment, sheer panic flickers across Blaine’s expression.  Then he
flattens his lips and presses his and Kurt’s forehead together, and says, “It’s
okay, Kurt – God, you look so hot like this, like you’ll die if he doesn’t fuck
you harder.”  He reaches down, and surprises the hell out of Dean by gripping
Kurt by the hips and actually moving him back and forth, helping Kurt fuck
himself on Dean’s cock.
 
Which, okay – what?  Not that Dean’s got any moral high ground when it comes to
relationships, but he’s definitely not expecting this.  He doesn’t stop
pounding into Kurt (he’s not sure he could, even if he wanted to), but he does
look up over Kurt’s shoulder to meet Blaine’s gaze, and oh.  Hello. Blaine’s
eyes are like flinty with accusation and suppressed rage, like it’s Dean’sfault
that this is happening, like Dean should have protected Kurt better.  But then
Kurt whimpers softly, and Blaine blinks, and by the time he’s looking at Kurt
again, there’s nothing but desire and concern in his eyes.
 
“Oh, Kurt, that’s it,” Blaine murmurs in a low growl, as he plasters his whole
body against Kurt’s so that every time Dean thrusts into Kurt, he shoves Kurt
up against Blaine, who ruts back, keeping Kurt trapped between them.  “God,
you’re so hungry for it.  I should let you bottom more often, shouldn’t I?  But
I’m greedy.  I love your cock too much.”
 
Kurt whines, high and helpless, and kisses Blaine with a feverish fervor,
wrapping his arms around Blaine’s neck to pull him even closer.  If not for the
way Blaine’s still slamming Kurt back onto Dean’s cock, Dean might as well not
exist.  He’s never been in a threesome where he’s felt so superfluous before
(see, Sammy?  He knows some big words too), and it should probably bother him,
but it’s actually... surprisingly hot just to watch the two of them, watch
Kurt’s hips stutter as he tries to get fucked and to hump Blaine (who’s still
got his fucking clothes on, Jesus, where did Kurt find this kid?) at the same
time, and watch Blaine kiss down Kurt’s neck and suck deep bruises into his
shoulder.
 
But that could just be the demonically-induced heat pulsing through his body. 
Dean’s pretty sure that he could find two dogs fucking to be hot right now, and
wow, that thought doesn’t even phasehim, holy shit.  He can feel his orgasm
coming, welling up in his belly and pouring out into his limbs, replacing the
spell’s acidic heat with something just as hot, but sweeter and not accompanied
by pain.  He chases that sweetness desperately, fitting his hands over Blaine’s
on Kurt’s hips and ramminghis ass, not even caring if he’s too rough or if he’s
going to leave bruises.
 
He feels Kurt shudder and tighten around him, then he hears Blaine say, “Kurt,
are you close?”
 
Kurt’s mouth works, but he’s too breathless to get words out.  He nods instead.
 
“Dean’s close too,” Blaine says, acknowledging Dean directly for the first time
since he woke up.  “I want to fuck you once he’s done.  Would you like that?” 
Moot question, it seems – Blaine doesn’t even wait for Kurt to finish saying
‘yes’ before he continues, “I bet I’ll be able to just slide in; no fingers,
just his cock out and mine in.  I’ve never been able to do that before – you’re
always so tight, even after I stretch you.  But Dean’s pretty big, so I think
I’ll be able to do it this time, don’t you?”
 
Shit! Well, Kurt clearly seems to like the idea, because he’s all of a sudden
practically bouncing on Dean’s cock, groaning and keening and riding him hard
and fast.  Dean’s orgasm hits him like a blow to the gut, literally knocking
the air from his lungs.  The spell bleeds out of him within seconds, leeching
heat from his body in such a rush that he feels like he’s been shot.  He barely
registers Kurt pulling off his dick – hell, he couldn’t tell you his own name
for about ten seconds – but he does hear the loud, dull thumpas Blaine’s back
hits the upholstery with Kurt on top of him.
 
“Off,” Kurt orders in a voice that’s almost a snarl, splayed between Blaine’s
legs with his hands fisted in Blaine’s shirt.
 
For a moment, Blaine just stares up at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.  Then
he bursts into movement, yanking off his shirt while Kurt works on his pants at
speeds that are actually kind of impressive, considering how sex-crazed they
must both be by now.  Kurt doesn’t bother to get Blaine’s pants down any
farther than to his knees before he straddles Blaine’s lap and positions
himself, both of them shouting hoarsely as Kurt sinks down on Blaine’s cock.  
 
They stay locked together, panting harshly, for a few seconds.  And then Blaine
says, “Kurt?” and Kurt nods, and they both start moving again, slowly at first,
but then faster and faster, Blaine spreading his legs as wide as he can to give
himself the leverage he needs to thrust up into Kurt, and wow, if Dean thought
that Kurt had ridden him hard, it’s nothing compared to what Kurt’s doing to
Blaine now. 
 
Dean stares helplessly at the live action gay porn taking place before him, not
sure what he should be feeling right now.  On the one hand, it’s kind of making
him a little uncomfortable, because geez, what the hell are they teaching
children these days that teenage boys from Ohio know how to do that with their
hips?  But on the other hand, he’s pretty sure that he’s never seen two people
more desperate to fuck each other’s brains out, and the fact that they’re dudes
and Dean’s not gay doesn’t actually make it any less hot.
 
It doesn’t take more than a couple of minutes for Kurt to come, head thrown
back and screaming his boyfriend’s name as he jerks and shudders before
collapsing onto Blaine’s chest, his back heaving with every loud, rasping
breath he takes.  Blaine comes seconds later, Kurt’s name on his lips and his
hands so tight on Kurt’s hips that he’ll definitely bruise later.  They murmur
quietly to each other as they – and Dean can’t believe this – hold hands, until
they both kind of sag against the seat and pass out.
 
Dean watches them for another few seconds, before he grabs his discarded jacket
and settles it over Kurt’s back.  If not for the fact that they’re both covered
in sweat, spit, and each other’s come, they’d almost look sweet, cuddled
together and sleeping like this.  As it is, though, Dean really hopes that he
doesn’t get stopped by any cops tonight.  He isn’t sure there’s a fake ID in
the world that would explain why he’s in a car that reeks of sex with two naked
teenage boys in the back.
 
He puts his pants and shirts back on, folds the front seat back up, and
retrieves his phone.  He sends Sam another text, Nvm, took care of the
problem.  ETA 15,and turns off his phone before Sam can call and ask him if he
just fucked two underage boys.  As he restarts the car and pulls back onto the
road, he thinks, well, I always thought my ‘gay threesome’ would involve more
lesbians, but at least that’s one thing crossed off the bucket list.
 
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