Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/96637.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Glee
  Relationship:
      Burt_Hummel/Kurt_Hummel
  Character:
      Burt_Hummel, Kurt_Hummel
  Additional Tags:
      Rape, Non_Consensual, Incest, Parent/Child_Incest
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-06-24 Words: 549
****** Untitled 1 ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     For glee_kink_meme, Burt/Kurt non-con, "You are your mother"
Notes
     I had an awesome childhood with loving awesome parents. I do not know
     what made me write this, except that I had to.
"You are your mother. You have her smell, her eyes, her soft skin." Burt runs
his fingers through Kurt's hair.
Kurt is on his side, facing away from his father. He woke up to the smell of
alcohol and a warm hand on his shoulder.
Burt wasn't taking the breakup with Carol very well.
"Dad?"
"Shh," whispers Burt. His hand moves form Kurt's hair to sliding along his arm,
down to his chest, ghosting over nipples that are now peaked.
Kurt's breath shudders. "Dad, what...?" Kurt is confused and makes to turn
around to look at Burt.
Burt shushes him again. Burt says, "Please." His hand rubs along Kurt's
stomach, fingers dipping just under the hem of his pajama top, raising it,
touching the soft skin underneath.
Kurt swallows down a sliver of fear. This is his father. He doesn't have
anything to fear. He doesn't.
Except he does.
Burt's fingers are now slipping into the top of his pajama bottoms, caressing
his hip, the top of his ass.
Kurt has long thought about these touches, but never, never coming from his
father. Something within him closes forever.
Kurt gasps as Burt's fingers trail along the crack of his ass, setting fire to
the nerves he didn't know were there. He unconsciously backs into the touch, is
disgusted with himself immediately, and buries his head in his pillow. He
doesn't hyperventilate, but wants to, doesn't want to.
He can't say no. He must not say no. His dad wouldn't do this unless he needed
it. And Kurt has always been willing to give everything for Burt.
Burt's fingers prod and gently separate Kurt's ass cheeks, seeking.
Kurt does not want this. He must do this.
Kurt lowers his pajama bottoms, still facing away from Burt. He thanks god he
isn't hard, even if his skin and his nerves are singing. He gets up on his
knees, spreads his legs as much as he can.
Burt's fingers finally find his hole. They push in. His touch is firm and
forceful. There's no slickness, just warm pads of fingers that are too rough.
"I miss you so much," Burt says.
Kurt knows he's not talking to him.
"So tight, just like in the backseat our first time." Burt enters Kurt.
Kurt gasps. He thinks, so this is what it feels like. He feels lost.
It hurts, oh god, it hurts so much. His father's cock is ripping him open,
stinging thrust after stinging thrust, even if the rhythm is slow, gentle. Kurt
thinks, Please, daddy, keep me safe. Don't hurt me. Please, please, please.
Burt comes with a sigh of his dead wife's name. He stays still. The sound of
sniffs and the feel of drops on his back tell Kurt that his father is crying.
Kurt says, "It's all right." Kurt hangs his head and wishes to be whole again.
Burt's cock leaves him, then Burt leaves him, unhurriedly pulling his jeans
back up, staring at his son's bare back. Burt doesn't see Kurt. He sees a
memory.
Kurt hears footsteps going up the stairs, the door open and close. He pulls up
his pajamas, wipes at the tear he didn't know had fallen along his nose.
He goes to the bathroom and cleans himself up. And misses his mother.
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