Online and Anonymous - Part 8

[sunmontue]

Title: Online and Anonymous

Pairing: Kurt Hummel/David Karofsky
Rating: PG13
Word count: ~2,000/>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   PART FIVE   PART SIX   PART SEVEN

His skin is prickly and hot, he feels tremble-y and his entire body is shivery-tingling as it comes down from whatever height his orgasm catapulted him up to. His fever probably isn’t helping matters, but god, that was intense. HookedonHope’s writing, describing what he wants, the slow gentle pace and touching, the build-up. Then that line. He’d been getting turned on reading, but that one line had him groaning, rubbing his cock through his pajama pants. The thought that HookedonHope got turned on writing these words, private words just to him, not out on the internet for anyone to read. It’s more than simply arousing. A writing kink. He didn’t even know that type of kink existed. Or is it a reading kink? Whatever it is, he has it in spades.

He needs to clean up, and then he needs to somehow gather the energy to type, although his entire body is aching, and he’s used whatever reserve of energy he had to jerk off. Funny how he could find the energy for that. He shakes his head as he looks at his reflection in the mirror, color high on his cheeks, forehead damp and hair curling slightly where it’s touched his skin. He has a sip of water and his throat still burns. He hops back into bed in clean pajamas just seconds before his dad comes in to check on him, and he feels a little guilty when his dad looks even more worried than yesterday. He’s told to rest and that some soup will be brought up shortly.

He reads HookedonHope’s answers again, filing away the pieces of information. He kind of wants to know big stuff, like what his name is, where he lives, but if someone asked him that online he’d cut off all communication, and that’s the last thing he wants to happen. Maybe in time, when they know each other better, because he kind of feels stupid calling him HookedonHope all the time in his head. He makes himself comfortable, and it’s a bit awkward because he has to plug in his laptop to charge but he manages.

For most people it’s probably TMI for any morning, afternoon or evening no matter the day of the week. However I am not most people. Please don’t stop sharing. It’s hot. I invested in some proper lubricant as per your advice. You’re a wise man. You don’t have any questions for me though?

He doesn’t expect an immediate response, but he gets one and he’s glad there’ no one else in the room, because he can feel the grin on his face almost splitting it in half.

I figured I might as well make sure you were still talking to me before putting the effort in. Are you feeling any better?

Is that a question? I’m still not great, so will probably need another day off school. My dad’s fussing and making me soup. He’s a worrier.

My dad too. Requirement of being a parent I think. So I get to ask you thirteen questions huh?

You can ask me as many questions as you like, I’m kind of over the piecemeal information, I like knowing things about you. Talking to you. Chatting? Writing?

He hopes he’s not coming across as too forward, but coming up with the questions, finding the line between personal but not private, was harder than he thought. He wants to discuss everything, anything and nothing with him. He kind of wishes he’d discovered this outlet years ago, being able to talk anonymously to someone, share everything with them with no shame. He’s pretty sure rejection would feel just as bad online as in real life, but it doesn’t stop him enjoying it and reveling in the lack of expectation.

I like chatting to you too. But I’m asking my thirteen questions anyway. You have an unfair advantage with all that information about me.

Fine with me. I have nothing better to do. Fire away.

Favorite actor and why. (I accept ‘because he’s hot’ as a valid reason BTW). Do you want to get married one day? What’s your best/happiest memory? Favorite pastime? Something no one else knows about you. Favorite food? Favorite piece of clothing? Do you want to travel? Favorite piece of stationary and why. If you could live in any city which one would you choose? What made you choose the user name FruitLover? What attracts you to a guy? And finally, why is reading my fic better than sex?

Kurt blinks. That’s a lot of questions, and he struggled every single time to come up with a question to ask HookonHope, but he’s apparently got an abundance of them.

Did you just rattle those off the top of your head or have you been thinking about them for a while.

A bit of both. Now quit stalling and trying to censor your response. Just let it flow. I want to know.

Okay. Well, for a start there is not a single actor that I hold over any others. Some are good looking, but it really depends on my mood. I prefer talent over looks if I am being entertained. I am starting to realize that there’s no one thing that I find attractive, but a guy being good at something, that kind of turns me on. The confidence that he knows what he’s doing. It’s kind of sexy. As for marriage, of course I want to get married. I hope that wherever I end up living it’s legal, because the fact that it isn’t is something that just grates against my nerves, and I could get on my soapbox and wave my fist at the world, but that kind of gets tiring.

My favorite pastime is designing clothes. And singing. And I can almost see you roll your eyes through the computer at me. I enjoy them, but something I wish I didn’t, and that’s what no one else knows. I wish that I wasn’t a walking talking stereotype that people seem to look at and just slot into this gay shaped hole in their heads. I’m more than just a guy who is gay, but people seem to think it’s the biggest facet of my personality, and I know I have a little bit of myself to blame for it because I totally play it up sometimes, okay, a lot of the time, but I wish that sometimes I could just be normal. And if that’s not possible then I wish people could be more accepting and stop side-eyeing me like I’m some tropical bird.

My favorite food is pizza, but I don’t eat it very often because as much as I like it, it doesn’t like me. But sometimes I really just want some. Again people seem to think I have this fear of junk food, but I don’t. I can’t eat it every day, because I’d feel horrible. This is almost going to turn into one long rant about why I don’t like my life. But I do like my life, it’s pretty good now. I have a family and friends, a college acceptance letter to a college I didn’t think I’d have a chance at a few months ago. Things are good. But I think I’m one of these people that always wants more. Always wants tings to be better. When reality hits me I can be a bit of a bitch.

He sends the start of it off, wondering if he should wait for a reply

I don’t have a single piece of clothing either, I like variety and dressing to suit my mood. I do have a pair of jeans that I turn to at least once a week, because my ass looks great in them. Or I feel that it looks good at least. And I definitely want to travel. Paris. Milan. London. New York as well, but I assume you mean abroad and not within our borders.

Favorite piece of stationary? Is this some sort of psychological question that has a deep meaning? I’ve never given stationary much thought. I like pens. I suppose I like the way my hand feels graceful when I hold one. Do you ever write with a pen? Or just type? I would live in any city that has a strong theatre and fashion scene. New York ideally because I wouldn’t want to be too far from my family, but I’d love to live in London or Paris for a while, just to get a taste of the life and culture there.

As for FruitLover, well, that was kind of an accident. So many of the names I tried first had already been taken and I was starting to get annoyed and I was eating some fruit at the time and then…it was available and I was at the next step and I figured it would never matter. It’s not like it’s close to my real name. What about HookedonHope? It’s kind of poetic, almost like a saying or mantra. It’s better than mine in every single way, that’s for sure, because it seems to actually mean something.

He looks at the final two questions, licks his lips and takes a deep breath. He’s already kind of answered the first one, but he kind of wants to expand a bit on it, and as for the last questions, he’s not exactly sure why it’s better, it just is. He liked sex with Blaine, didn’t think there was anything lacking. Now he knows there was, but he’s not sure what exactly it is. Since his introduction to  fanfiction just over two weeks ago he’s gone from jerking off to every three or four days to suddenly needing to do it twice a day minimum, sometimes even three times. He’s never before been so sexually active and it’s with his own hand.

Like I said before there’s no one thing I find attractive in guys. My first crush was on a jock, but in retrospect I think it was a combination of factors. He was nice to me at a time in my life when even the smallest kindness meant a lot. I blew it out of proportion and inflated it in my head, but guys that are sweet and treat me well definitely have the odds in their favor. I kind of liked guys that were physically bigger than me, but with there being a shortage of eligible gay teenagers I finally met another gay student by pure happenstance. He was nice to me too, and after several theme park rides of emotions we became boyfriends. And now we’re just friends. But he was shorter than me, smaller. So I don’t know if I have a type, but the common theme seems to be confidence in themselves, and treating me well. What about you, do you think you have a type yet or still too early to tell?

As for the last question. Well. In the interest of full disclosure I jerked off reading what you’d written before, you have a way with words which… seems to affect me more than a real live person does. That sounds terrible but I don’t know why! Before you go bashing my boyfriend again, I liked the sex fine, but… to put it in perspective, and please note that I’m only sharing this with you because we will never meet and if we do you just have to pretend you don’t know me okay? In the last two weeks I have jerked off to your fics more times than I have ever had sex. And like I said, I can’t pinpoint exactly why, and trust me, if I knew I’d tell you. I’ll think about it though, and let you know if I figure it out. You obviously like writing and reading as well, but just don’t have a frame of reference to compare it to sex yet.

As he sends the message he hopes that it doesn’t seem rude, but he feels he has a point. He can compare reading to sex. And maybe sex with Blaine was simply mediocre and makes a poor frame of reference, but it’s still better than nothing.

How many times?

He blushes and counts in his head, staggered when he hits thirty and swallows when he comes up with the final number. Maybe he’s a late bloomer and that’s why he has this sudden incessant need to get off all the time because surely this is unhealthy, or at the least bordering on obsessive.

37.

Huh. Once for each fic. That’s pretty good going. For the record, I don’t usually jerk of while writing. Or reading. Afterwards, sure. But I tend to conjure images in my head, or watch porn. I like visual stimulation. I try and create images with my words, and you’re good for my ego because with 37 times I’m obviously doing something right. ;)

You are -definitely- doing something right. And I know I’m not alone in thinking that. So…

So…

This is what the questions were for, to break the ice. Except our ice has effectively melted and evaporated seeing as we pretty much took part in a two-person circle jerk over a piece of your writing. And I know it wasn’t knowingly on your part, but for me, knowing you’d written that and then… jerked off, was the cincher. I’d say we know each other pretty well considering the anonymous nature of this form of medium to communicate. So, talk to me. Tell me what you think your type might be.

To be completely pessimistic a guy that likes me is my type of guy. I’m not exactly what you’d consider Hollywood material so I don’t think I can afford to be picky. And it’s all a moot point until I come out anyway because finding a guy, or dating him while not out, kind of defeats the purpose of hiding it in the first place.

Who told you that you aren’t Hollywood material?

You mean apart from society?

Erg. Don’t get me started on -them-. I thought you said you played sports… you’re not a jock?

I suppose I am, I play hockey and football for school. Don’t go imagining rippled abs or anything though. I’m built to knock people down or stop them getting through and may have been called chubby a couple of times.

Kurt sits back and looks at the words, and he suddenly feels so sad for the guy. He knows what it’s like to be self-conscious about your body, and every day he has to ignore the niggling little voice in the back of his head that sounds like Coach Sylvester telling him he has hips like a pear or needs to lose weight. He’s healthy. That’s his bottom line and the most important thing.

That’s very honest. I don’t know a single person who thinks their body is perfect though. Me included, although I do my best to act like I think it is. I wouldn’t make it through the day if I didn’t.

I lie enough every day without lying on here. This is where I get to be myself. No lies. And I’m starting to accept that I’m not a completely horrible monster. One day…

Well, in my experience, people that throw names around like that do it because they’re insecure about something in themselves, so I wouldn’t believe a single word they said.

Yeah, that works in theory, however he’s actually seen me in person and all you know of me are my words, so unfortunately I’m going to have to take his word over yours for now. No offence.

None taken. But one day you’ll know I’m right.

I hope so.

PART NINE