Author's note: This was written for a Klaine shipper on tumblr (who will remain anonymous for now unless she doesn't mind her name being revealed), who wanted the car scene, except a situation where Blaine gets a lot farther than what happens in The First Time episode. I felt very odd writing this, and had to stop Dave stepping in too early to give her what she wanted.

WARNING: This piece contains sexual assault (between Blaine and Kurt, with Kurt as the victim). This is angsty and if even the vague idea of non-con makes you feel creeped out please do not read any further. There is a more detailed warning about the exact nature of the non-con/sexual assault at the end of the fic if you need/want to read it before forging ahead.

"Stop."

He's not sure how he's ended up beneath Blaine, but he can feel the weight of his body pressing down on his, and he never thought Blaine would feel like he weighed so much. As he tries to buck him off it seems to have the opposite effect because Blaine moans into his neck, licks and he pulls his head away, still struggling.

"Blaine. Stop. Get off me. Please." He doesn't listen. Either thinks he's playing hard to get and doesn't mean it, or he just doesn't hear him. "Stop."

He can feel hot breath against his ear, quiet murmured endearments which make his mouth sour with bile.

"Fuck Kurt, you're so hot." Thrusts against him and he can feel Blaine's erection pressing firm against his own completely limp dick.

"Blaine STOP!" He bites his lip to stop himself from screaming, although that's starting to seem like a good option right now.

He tries pushing with his arms, but one is trapped against the seat of the car and for all his efforts Blaine simply pushes back.

"Fuck yeah, knew you'd be into it…"

"No. I'm not. Stop. Stop. Please stop." It's a mantra. Out loud and in his head. He can feel the frenzied thrusting of Blaine against him, can feel Blaine's hand trying to get his own fly undone and his stomach has started heaving. He wonders if Blaine would stop if he threw up all over him, because he feels useless.

Every time he tries to throw Blaine off it just seems to excite him more. He squeezes his eyes shut, and isn't surprised when he feel wetness trickle down the side of his face. When he feels Blaine's hand at his fly he does let out a scream, thrashing violently and suddenly Blaine's hand is over his mouth and he's making gentle shh-ing sounds, as if trying to calm a caged animal.

Kurt knows his eyes must be wide, scared, but Blaine is too drunk to notice. The thrusting grind hasn't stopped, and he knows Blaine has got his cock out, is rutting against him, making a damp patch on his pants and shirt as it moves. At least with a hand over his mouth means Blaine has none free to get his fly undone.

"Yes. Yes. Yes. Fuck…so good." He just wants it over. He clenches his eyes shut, crying in earnest when he feels Blaine come.

Blaine's body turns to a deadweight, trapping him. Blaine's hand drops from his mouth and he lets out a hysterical sounding sob and gasps in a large breath, feeling used and dirty and totally fucking helpless. And naïve. Thinking this type of thing couldn't happen to him because he would be with Blaine. That Blaine would be the perpetrator is shocking. His body starts to tremble and he's pretty sure he's definitely going to vomit.

With Blaine unconscious he manages to flip him off after two tries. He doesn't care that Blaine lands in the foot well and looks painfully uncomfortable. He drags himself out of the car, and sure enough is barely free of it when he vomits. The sour taste in his mouth doesn't help and his heaving stomach makes him vomit again. And again. Until there's nothing left in him.

He sags against the side of the car and tries to figure out what to do next. His dad isn't expecting him home tonight, but it's the only place he wants to go. The only place he feels he might feel safe. But he doesn't know what to do with Blaine. Doesn't want to drive him home and take care of him when he's just…used him. He feels disgusting all over again, want a long hot shower. Doesn't want to look at Blaine.

He hears the crunching of gravel and he looks up into the worried eyes of Dave Karofsky. He doesn't even bother trying to smile. He knows he can't look good, pool of vomit at his feet, tear and snot streaked face, body shaking, and, he's just realized, a large wet patch on the front of his pants. The total indignity of the situation hits him and the shaking intensifies and he slips to the ground, sobs wracking his body.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he hears Dave mutter, and then he's walking away, which he's not sure how he feels about, but then Dave is back with a blanket and a water bottle, handing them over with a rough

"They're from my truck."

He takes the bottle willingly, rinses his mouth out with the sweet tasting water before spitting it to the side. Usually he'd worry about the dribble down his chin, but it's the least of his worries right now.

"What can I do for you right now?" Dave asks, and Kurt motions towards the backseat.

"Holy shit, is he dead?" Kurt jumps at that, because as much as he hates Blaine right now, he doesn't want him dead.

"He's…he's just passed out…" His voice is thin and shaky. Dave frowns and reaches in, and he watches as Dave checks for a pulse. He steps back and then looks at Kurt, back at Blaine and then at Kurt again, and it's then that he realises Blaine's dick is hanging out.

"He's fine. You however are not. You want me to take Sleeping Beauty home?"

Kurt presses his lips together. Blaine's house isn't close, and his parents would ask questions. Screw it. He nods, and can't help but starting to cry again. He never expected David Karofsky to be coming to his rescue, but his relief is raw and tangible.

"Come on. You'll need to give me directions. Then I'm taking you home."

He reaches down with a hand, and it feels large and strong. He's pulled up and sways a little, feeling lightheaded.

"I'm fine," he mutters, seeing Dave's worried look.

"Hmm."

"Are you okay to drive?"

"Sure. I had one beer two hours ago. The barman fills my beer bottle with soda after that."

"Oh…that's…sensible." Responsible. Adult. Mature. Something he wishes Blaine had thought to be.

"You okay to walk around to the passenger side?"

He nods and takes off on shaky feet, one hand braced on the car, the other clutching the blanket to him. Dave is moving Blaine, and he doesn't watch. Doesn't care. He straps the safety belt across his body and accepts the bottle of water again from Dave. He hands over his keys and gives Dave directions before resting his head on the cool glass of the window.

"You want to talk about it?" Dave asks after about ten minutes.

"No."

"Okay."

Silence reigns and he's thankful Dave says nothing about the tears running down his face, smearing the window and his face even more. He clutches the blanket over him, trying to make himself warm, because the shaking hasn't abated. He just stares out into the black of the night and feels like that's where he belongs. Dark and empty.

"This the place?"

His attention snaps to the tree lined road and he nods. A quick glance at his watch tells him it's nearly one in the morning and he doesn't care that Blaine's parents are going to have to be woken up. Dave puts the car into park and gets out, going to the front door and ringing the bell. Minutes pass and then lights flick on and the door opens. He can't hear what is being said, but he doesn't care. Just closes his eyes and pretends to be asleep.

He hears the car door open, quiet voices, the click of the safety belt and slither as it retracts followed by the grunt of someone picking up Blaine. The car door is shut and he's alone for the first time and h opens his eyes in time to see Dave carrying Blaine inside, his mother leading the way and father following. He bunches the blanket in his fists and screams into it. Screams his anger, humiliation and embarrassment into it.

Dave is back almost immediately, his voice quiet as he asks if he's okay.

"No," Kurt replies, and he's not sure if he's hearing properly, but his voice sounds flat. Dead.

"Didn't think so. Let's get you home…"

They lapse back into silence and Kurt doesn't know what he's going to say to his dad when he gets home. Doesn't care really. Just wants to be home. Dave doesn't ask for directions to his place, seems to know where to go, which he's grateful for because he's close to tears again, certain that if he tries to talk he'll just end up with wet gaspy sobs.

Like when he pulled up outside Blaine's house Dave gets out and goes to ring the bell. The lights flick on faster upstairs and Kurt steels himself for what is to come. Opens the car door and feels the icy-cold air hit him. It galvanizes him. He undoes his safety belt and walks up to stand by Dave. He'd open the door, except Dave has his keys.

"Oh my god…Kurt."

His dad has opened the door, is dressed in his flannel pyjamas and dressing gown. His eyes are darting around madly, flicking from his face to his body, assessing, arms reaching out to wrap around him before flicking to Dave.

"You!"

"No dad…it wasn't…"

"What happened? What are you doing with my son?" His dad is angry. The low quiet controlled tone far more dangerous than when his dad yells.

"Dad…Dave helped me. Drove me home…"

"Mr Hummel, sir, I just helped Kurt out…he's pretty shaken up."

His dad pulls away from him and looks at him before crushing him into another fierce hug, arms wrapping around him.

"God Kurt…you trying to give me another heart attack?"

"I'm sorry dad, I'm so sorry…" He's crying again, the sudden relief at being in the strong safe warm embrace of his father making him shake with relief. It makes a nice change, having a different reason for the shaking.

"You can leave now," his dad says, and his voice is cold, and he can't help but feel bad for Dave, to be treated so coolly by his dad after all the help he's given him.

"Uh…I drove Kurt's car here. Um. I dropped Blaine home first."

Kurt can't see what Dave looks like, or what is exchanged between Dave and his dad, but his arms tighten around him.

"Did he do this?"

Dave is behind him, he can't tell what he does. Whether it's a nod, or a shake of the head, or a shrug of his shoulders.

"I'll get Carol to drive you to your car. Or home. Or wherever you need to go. Come in for a bit."

Kurt's glad. His dad's voice has softened, but he isn't leaving him to drive Dave home himself. He lets his dad lead him inside and he sees Carol standing in the entry-way to the kitchen, eyes wide and concerned. He doesn't even try to smile; it would be fake and a lie, even if it would reassure her. He hears his dad talk, asking her to take Dave where he needs to go, and he can't let Dave go without thanking him. He pulls away from his dad, eyes flicking around to Dave, who's trying to make himself look smaller than he is by hunching over.

He takes the necessary three steps and wraps his arms around Dave. It's quick, over before Dave even realizes it's happened if his stuttering is anything to go by. He steps back to his dad.

"Thanks for helping…I…thanks." His dad's arm tightens around him again as he speaks. He doesn't know what he would have done if Dave hadn't turned up. He probably would have coped on his own, but Dave's steady presence meant that he didn't have to.

"Uh, no problem. Anytime."

"I'll take you home now David…" Carol says, and Dave nods, small shy smile as he looks at Carol. He watches as Dave and Carol leave, sees Dave hand his keys over to his dad. He's starting to drift, feel disconnected, his body feeling heavy. He still wants a shower, but he's tired. His dad is talking about the police, questions flowing around him like water around a stone in a river.

"Tomorrow, dad."

He'll deal with everything tomorrow.

EXPANDED WARNING: Blaine does not "technically" rape Kurt, but has his penis out and rubs himself against Kurt's body until he comes. He attempts to get Kurt's penis out, and puts his hand over Kurt's mouth to stop him screaming.