Online and Anonymous - Part 5

[sunmontue]

Title: Online and Anonymous

Pairing: Kurt Hummel/David Karofsky
Rating: PG13
Word count: ~2,600/>75,000 words
Warnings: None. 
Summary: By day Dave is a quiet attentive school student, but by night he's a smut-writing fanfic-writer who ships Johnlock. Kurt's never heard of fanfiction before Blaine tells him about it but he's about to be exposed to a whole new world.

PART ONE   PART TWO   PART THREE   PART FOUR

    

There aren’t any more updates all week and he feels a bit sulky about that. He’s done a read through of all HookedonHope’s favorite authors and stories. There are a couple of incomplete stories there which he puts on alert, despite them not being updated in months. HookedonHope has good taste, but he still prefers his stories and writing style. He’s tempted to message him out of the blue, but doesn’t want to come across as creepy-stalkerish. He doesn’t know the etiquette for this online stuff, although he’s pretty sure given their conversations etiquette really isn’t too high up on the priority list.

He’s still paying attention in class, but the book they’re reading for English Literature is boring and every time he tries to concentrate and read it he gets the giggles, just thinking about what he read instead of the book in class earlier in the week. Blaine has sent him a few links, recommendation lists from other people, long lists which seem over whelming, although the fact that HookedonHope is listed in nearly all of them is reassuring. There’s more than just the original website he’d found. There’s sites dedicated to only JohnLock. He feels a bit like he’s just discovered a candy store. And he has a wicked sweet tooth.

He almost cancels his plans for Friday night but then realizes he’s being ridiculous. The writing will still be there when he goes to bed, and god, he hope it’s… smutty? That’s what he called it right? He said he’d keep those kinds of updates for the weekend and late at night. His mind fizzes then, realizing that these words are being written by a teenage boy and… he probably gets turned on writing it. How does he write it? Kurt can’t imagine writing things like that; he can only just get his head around the fact that he’s reading it.

He goes out to dinner with Blaine. Tucks his phone away in his pocket and ignores it. Turns off e-mail alerts, although it’s almost physically painful to do so; cutting himself off from the online world like that. He can do this. He can be pleasant and social for a few hours, although he’s pretty sure that if anyone was going to understand his new obsession it would be Blaine. They end up picking apart the clothing choices of every other patron in the restaurant and making up fake conversations for them, along with ridiculous back stories. He’s always enjoyed people watching, but Blaine has a devious sense of humor and he has a good time despite the constant itch to manually check his e-mail.

Kurt’s not even in his car when he’s flicking his e-mail alerts on. Nothing. Well that sucks. It’s already ten-thirty. He drives home in a bit of a funk, because he’d have thought he’d have updated by now. He takes his time in the shower, considers jerking off, but he really kind of wants to save himself for the possibility of new smut. Not that it really matters, because if he’s learnt nothing else this week, it’s that when it comes to reading he can come, and then a few minutes later feel like he needs to come again. He’s not felt that driving urge before and the novelty still hasn’t worn off days later since he discovered it on Sunday.

Computer open he taps away at his homework assignments, waiting for an e-mail and he’s about to give up and go to bed when the little window blinks.

New chapter – Chapter 7 of story, Bubbles of life, by HookedonHope.

He almost feels like doing a little dance in his chair, but stops himself. Finally! He moves to the bed, homework forgotten. He crosses his legs beneath him and pulls his computer into his lap and starts to read. Like always he’s pulled in, and he looks at the side bar. It’s a long chapter. The best type. And the sex in it is fast and furious, full of passion, fast fumbling hands and two people who can’t get to each other fast enough. There’s been six chapters of buildup, them dancing around each other, and it’s all culminating in this. He’s chewing on his thumb nail, breathing shallowly, eyes intent on the screen, unblinking. He gets to the end and he licks his lips and swallows.

Moving to half-lay and half sit, he pulls his pajama bottoms down and takes his half-filled cock in his hand. He has to stop and re position, figure out a way of being able to work his cock and scroll at the same time. Obviously not a problem when watching actual porn. He starts reading again, lets himself be surrounded by the conjured images and the sensation of his hand gliding on his cock. He’s done this almost religiously every night this week, always going back to the first fic, his clear favorite. The glide of firm hot flesh between the circle of his fingers is almost hypnotic, his body rocking into his hand, back and forth.

The part of the story when John is screaming at Sherlock has his hand moving faster, knowing that their first kiss is imminent. The pace is fast and he matches it with his hand, the description of John raking fingernails over Sherlock’s nipples make him reach for his own and oh… he never knew. He wishes there was some way he could read and jerk off without having to scroll down the page, knows he could sit at his desk but that takes a considerable amount of enjoyment out of it. He gets to his favorite bit from before and decides to read it over and over , hand flying over his cock now, the other going to pinch his nipples. The pressure is all coiling together and he lets himself collapse onto his back, disregarding his laptop, his mind now just focused on his impending orgasm.

His hips are snapping upward to meet the downward movement of his hand so fast that he’s pretty sure he’s going to be a bit tender, if not slightly bruised. His eyes are clenched shut, his mind focused on what his body is feeling, the tight feeling in his muscles all pulling, his skin hot and tight, his balls constricting. He gasps when he comes, suddenly aware that he hasn’t been breathing enough and he pants, feeling even more light-headed than normal after an orgasm. Fuck. It’s addicting. This feeling afterward, during and the anticipation beforehand, it’s all addicting.

He lets his breathing return to normal, reaches for the small towel he’s started to keep close, tucked carefully beneath a pillow for easy access and wipes himself clean before walking on shaky legs to the bathroom to wash his hands. He knows he needs to write a review. But how does he put into words how great that was? Not that it beats the other story yet, but still… He stares at the screen for a moment and then clicks.

*fans self* Perfectly timed chapter. Thanks for sticking to our deal. I like how John hasn't lost everything. And how they dealt with things. And how John jumped his bones (seriously, sometimes guys are clueless and need their bones to be jumped to get with the program.) Awesome chapter. I enjoyed the -intense- ending.

He wants a reply. Wants to talk to him again. Except it’s almost one in the morning and he’s tired, the lethargy of the orgasm seeping through him. He’ll read the chapter again and hope for a reply tonight. He knows if he gets a response he’ll potentially be up all night chatting but he won’t notice the time ticking by and the feeling he gets talking to HookedonHope is one he’s never had before, like a form of sexual freedom, or expression. He really likes it.

OAA

He's exhausted. Training had been brutal, and Nick still watches him with suspicious calculating eyes. Then to top off a crappy day at school he'd gone to the small little Italian bistro and gotten takeout for him and his dad only to spy Kurt and Blaine, and it had made all the rejection he'd felt on Valentine's Day wash over him again. He knew it was a vain hope after what Kurt had yelled at him that time in the locker room, but he'd kind of needed to do it anyway, for himself if nothing else. As everyone had said, the worse that could happen was he said no.

Except they'd been wrong. The worst that could happen was seeing pity. It's been two months now though, and Kurt was obviously telling him the truth, he is with Blaine. Doesn't stop him feeling like shit though, especially given Kurt's whole 'let's be friends' spiel which he'd hoped for, for all of a week before letting that dream go as well. He kind of wants to write some angst. Some soul-tearing and gut-clenching angst that just purges out all his feelings. He's used it more than once to process his thoughts and emotions. Not publishing all of it, but just getting it out. However instead of angst he writes the required smut. It's not as cathartic, but it gets him half-hard which he appreciates in a second-hand kind of way.

He loads and posts it after a quick read through. It’s not been a good week for proof reading but he’s so tired he can’t bring himself to care. They can just be grateful he’s updated at all right now. He staggers into the bathroom and turns the shower on, rubbing a hand over his crotch half-heartedly. Choices. He can jerk off now in the shower and then somehow find the energy to dry himself and get to bed; or he can wait and jerk off in bed and then just float into unconsciousness afterward; or lastly, he can aim for the second option and likely fall asleep halfway through given how exhausted he’s feeling. It’s happened before.

When he wakes the next morning he lies there, it’s still early, and his dad doesn’t nag him to get out of bed early. He reaches for his computer, unplugging it from where it’s been charging. He has a few hours before he has to be at work. He loads up his account, his dad knows not to go snooping, probably because he was once a teenage boy. Twelve new e-mails. He spies FruitLover’s username and clicks there first and reads the review and snorts in amusement. Considering the chapter ending involved John and Sherlock curling up on the couch after sex he’s pretty sure there is some other intense ending that’s being referred to. He’s grinning as he clicks on reply.

I’m glad you liked the chapter. Just the epilogue to go for this one. The ending was intense huh? Good to know for future reference. ;)

He’s smiling as he goes downstairs to get some breakfast, just cereal and milk that he can eat in his room. His dad is at the table with coffee and the paper, quiet and he greets him quietly before leaving him. He really needs to talk about moving here full time. He likes the ease of their relationship, doesn’t feel like he has to try so hard to please his dad. That’s his goal for the weekend he decides. Talk to his dad about it. His dad is all cool calm and collected, so he’ll be able to help him. He goes back up to his room, feeling a bit lighter now that he’s made that decision and huffs when he sees Fruit Lover sent you a message. Boy doesn’t waste time.

I mean, you don’t have to tell me, I’m just curious. But how do you write the sex so well? I can only just talk about it anonymously apparently. I -can- talk about it in person it’s just embarrassing.

Want to know a secret? I’ve never even had sex. What I have done is a lot of research. LOL A LOT. And I read a lot before I started writing myself. I learnt what I like to read and try and keep it to that.

Really? I find that information surprising. Well, a secret for a secret. I -have- had sex. And I enjoy your fic more. Well, the results from your fic. I mean. I’m sure you know what I mean.

His stomach clenches at the idea that even this guy has had sex. He knows logically that he won’t have sex until he’s out, or at least drunk enough to not care, but it doesn’t stop the want. He can’t write what he writes and not want to experience it for himself. Although he’s pretty sure he doesn’t actually want to experience some of it. Writing and fantasizing about something is completely different from wanting it for himself. He stares at the sentence and tries to figure out what he reply with that strikes the right tone.

Well then, your boyfriend (?) can’t be doing it right. ;)

Ex-boyfriend. But not for that reason. Although considering it all in hindsight it is probably an additional factor. We’re still friends. He introduced me to the wonders of fanfiction at least, so consider him redeemed in that department at least. ;)

Okay, so he’s not flirting with a guy who has a boyfriend, which makes him feel slightly relieved. Not that it’s his problem if another guy wants to send flirty sexy messages, but he’d feel guilty either way. He doesn’t even have time to type a reply before he’s alerted to another response.

Anyway, I’m probably distracting you from writing. Go write! I want some delicious John/Sherlock interaction to send myself off to sleep for tonight.

Interaction? You can’t call it sex? Fucking? Or even just smut? And who are you to be bossing me around huh? ;)

Oh, I’m -very- bossy. Demanding too, depending on who you ask. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. ;)

Dave grins, feels all warm and squirmy and he knows he’ll never meet this guy, but the teasing banter they have is what he wants in his real life, someone that makes him laugh and feel good about himself. He could easily get used to it. Wants to get used to it.

I’m sure I will. ;)

PART SIX