All I wanna do, all I’ve ever wanted to do, is spend my life loving you ♥
God! Such a delusional liar! How can Kurt stand it!! Ugh!
All I wanna do, all I’ve ever wanted to do, is spend my life loving you ♥
God! Such a delusional liar! How can Kurt stand it!! Ugh!
Kurt should ditch Blaine. He’s way too young and freaking fantastic to settle for a high school romance. College is the time to look around, NewYork is a big place and Blaine never appreciated him anyway. He could experiment, with say, Elliot :)
"All I want to do, all I’ve ever wanted to do, is spend my life loving you."
That’s why he kept Kurt in the friend zone forever. That’s why he cheated on him. That’s why he was drooling over Sam like ten minutes before he went to N.Y. to ask Kurt to take him back!
Funny how he loves Kurt whenever he thinks he’s lost him.
I just will never understand the Klainers!
He was not going to let that bitchy twink own his ass, not this time, not ever again! Sebastian turned the car engine off, and blinked in surprise. Fuck! He was parked in Kurt Hummel’s drive way! He stared at his hands on the steering wheel. Traitors! Okay, he was here, but he didn’t have to stay here. He could drive away and never look back, pretend that none of this had ever happened. He turned the key in the ignition, put the car in reverse, and turned to look over his shoulder as he backed up. The car moved two feet. He hit the break, and killed the motor. Fuck! Oh, God! He was so screwed!
“I’m never going to be able to do it. I can’t dance. When is Schuester going to realize that it’s a hopeless…?”
Finn rattled on, but Kurt didn’t hear him, all his attention focused on the lean body leaning against a motorcycle in the school parking lot. He couldn’t drag his eyes away. Black biker boots, blue jeans faded in all the right places, black leather jacket teamed with a grey vest, white shirt and tie. Kurt approved; nice, very nice. He wouldn’t have put it together quite the same way but he couldn’t argue with perfection. His eyes moved up, to find razor sharp cheek bones, tousled dark hair, and eyes drowning in long dark lashes, staring straight at him. Shit! Not smart to check out guys on bikes, Hummel! Not in the school parking lot, not in Lima.
He loved it. The lights went down, the audience hushed, the orchestra flooded the room with layers of sound, and he was soothed. It didn’t matter what had gone wrong that day. It didn’t matter what he had to deal with the next day. While he was here, he was at peace. Here there was grace and beauty. The ballet was beautiful in the way life could never even hope to be. It calmed him, and enticed him.
Ballet had always been this for Kurt, a comfort and a joy. From the very first time he put on a leotard, from the first time his mother held his hand and opened the door to that first studio, Kurt had been captured. For many years, especially those years just after his mother’s death, everything good in his life happened at the ballet. He had stopped dancing when he was about twelve or thirteen. He realized that he didn’t have whatever that extra something was that made a principal dancer. Singing had replaced dancing as he started high school, but he had never lost his love for ballet. Every time he sat waiting for the curtains to go up, he remembered that little boy and the feelings came back; peace, welcome, home.
The first thing he had splashed money at when he started to make a decent salary was a car. He bought a car that harnessed a ridiculous amount of power and speed, more speed than any sane person needed in the city. It was elegant, and regal with leather seats that rivaled his couch for comfort. It handled like a dream; responsive in the way a lover should be and very rarely was. It made the journey at least as fulfilling as the destination. The car was six years old now, and although Kurt could easily afford to replace it, he just couldn’t bring himself to say good bye.
The second thing he had splurged on was season tickets to the ballet; orchestra seats, front row, on the aisle. He came alone, or he came with friends. He came with family or lovers, boyfriends or clients. He came no matter what. He hadn’t missed an opening night in the six years since he purchased his first subscription. He had been a sponsor for four years and a member of the board for the last two. It was his hobby, his passion, and next to the people in his life, it was his greatest love.
Kurt crossed his legs, careful not to wrinkle the Armani. He slipped the program under his seat, no need to read it. He knew what it said. A member of the corps de ballet had been promoted to principal dancer. Tonight was his debut performance in that capacity. The dancer had been with the company for three years. He was talented, and dedicated, and gifted with the ability to make the audience feel, to make them soar with him. He commanded the stage, making it impossible to see anyone else. At least it was impossible for Kurt, but then Kurt had trouble taking his eyes off the man whether he was dancing or not. In the seven months they had been together, Kurt had yet to see Asiel make a move that wasn’t graceful, in bed or out of it.
Puck pulled the football jersey over his head. He was tired and sore and all he wanted was a shower. Well, a shower, and then some really greasy fast food, the kind that Kurt thought he had stopped eating. What? It’s not like he had to tell his boyfriend everything! The jock wrapped a towel around his waist, ready to hit the showers when the jeans hanging in his locker bleeped. Puck pulled his phone out of his pocket, hit the message icon and read.
Where are you?
Locker room late practice
Puck leaned against the locker, waiting for the response his phone told him Kurt was writing.
“SHIT!” Puck almost dropped the phone. He stared at the screen, eyes wide. Right there, on his phone, was a picture of Kurt. In excellent colour, in intimate detail, the phone screen glowed with the picture of a very NAKED Kurt. Puck blinked. Yep, still there, still NAKED. The message read, ‘waiting for you’. Slowly, a grin spread over the jock’s face.
Puck set a record for the fastest shower, ever. He was out of the shower, out of the locker room, in his car and on his way to his boyfriend’s house in under 15 minutes.
———————————————————————————- The McKinley badass parked his truck in the Hummel driveway. He jumped out of the truck, slammed the door, and sprinted up the walkway. He flipped the welcome mat over, found the extra house key and let himself in to Kurt’s house. Puck paused in his headlong rush to kick off his shoes and lock the front door. He ran down the hallway, opened Kurt’s bedroom door, slammed and locked it behind him. He parachuted down the staircase, skidded to a halt at the bottom and leaned over, hands on hips, breathing hard.
Kurt was lying on his side, right arm raised, head resting in the palm of his hand. He smirked at the jock. “Pretty fast”
Puck raised his head, glared at the diva. “I’m going to kill you!”
Kurt smiled and trailed a hand lightly over his cock. “Really?”
Puck nodded. “Yeah, as soon as I get my breath back. “
“That’s not going to look good on your record Noah, murdering a poor defenseless boy in his own bed. I thought you didn’t want to go back to juvie?” Kurt’s eyes were teasing and his voice had that lilt to it that drove Puck crazy. “Sure, you want to murder me?”
Puck started pulling his clothes off. “Yep, right after I’m done with you.” Clothes gone, the jock tackled his boyfriend, pushed him onto his back and straddled him.
Kurt wound his arms around Puck’s neck. “But, Noah, you’re never going to be done with me.”
The Titan player groaned and crushed their mouths together. He pushed one hand into Kurt’s hair, snaked the other underneath the diva to grab a handful of his ass. Kurt’s hands never stopped moving. Puck always felt amazing, so Kurt tried to touch all of him at once. Shoulder, back, hip, ass, thigh; Kurt wanted all of it. There was one part that Kurt couldn’t reach, the part that was hard and heavy against him, grinding into his own cock. Perfect!
Puck plastered himself to the boy beneath him. He rolled his hips, to feel their cocks drag along each other. When Kurt moaned and melted at the sensation, Puck did it again. He and Kurt disagreed about a lot of stuff; clothes, music, movies, sports. They were two very different people but, there was one thing they always agreed on. This, this felt fucking amazing! Puck bit Kurt’s lower lip and pulled away. He raised his head to look into Kurt’s eyes, the translucent blue/green darkened to a storm grey, pupils wide, full of heat, and need.
Kurt traced Puck’s temple, cheek, and jaw with fingers that weren’t quite steady. “Noah!”
“I’m right here, babe.”
Puck sucked his way down Kurt’s chest, leaving marks in his wake. He moved off Kurt, and settled himself between the diva’s legs. Kurt drew his legs up. The jock nuzzled into the diva, nipping at his hips, burrowing into the hair at the base of his cock, licking at his balls. Kurt dug one hand into Puck’s shoulder, and twisted the other one in the strip of hair on his head. Puck licked up the length of the other boy’s cock, sucked on the head. Kurt moaned and pulled tighter on the jock’s hair. Puck slid his lips over Kurt’s length, lapping his tongue around the tender skin. Kurt felt good in his mouth and Puck lost himself in the taste of silken, hot skin.
Puck pulled his mouth off Kurt and looked up at the only guy in his world.
Kurt reached under his pillow and handed Puck a condom and lube. “I want you.”
Puck moved up Kurt’s body until he could grab his head and crush their lips together. “Always want you, Princess.”
Puck lubed his fingers and stretched his boyfriend. Kurt gasped and sighed and thrust against Puck’s hand.
“Now, Noah. Please. Now.”
God! Kurt was tight, and hot, and fucking perfect. Nothing felt better than this and Puck would know, because he’d done his share of fucking. Maybe this was the best sex ever because Kurt was a better lover, or had a better body, or was just more gorgeous than anyone had a right to be. Maybe, but Puck had a suspicion that it was because they cared about each other. Jesus Christ! He was actually growing a vagina and it was all Kurt’s fault. If he wasn’t so happy, he’d be pissed about it.
The jock stroked the diva, fist hard and fast on his cock. Kurt threw his head back. “Nooo Ahhh!” Kurt called out, clenched around Puck, and the jock was done. Puck sank over Kurt and never wanted to move again.
——————————————————————————- Puck was curled up into Kurt’s side, head on the diva’s shoulder. Puck’s hand was lazily tracing over Kurt’s hip. Kurt was running his nails up and down Puck’s spine. Puck looked up at Kurt and smirked. “Nice picture”
Kurt grinned. “Thought you’d like it.”
“Think I’m going to make it my screen saver.”
The diva shoved once and the jock ended up on the floor, laughing. “What? What did I say?”
Author’s Note: This chapter was inspired by “Kurt Solo”, a work by the Tumblr artist, Alphonse-Hummel.
Puck slipped into his sneakers, and put his hand on the door handle. “Shit!” He forgot his jacket. He turned around and walked back to Kurt’s room. He put a lot of effort into being quiet on the staircase, if Kurt had fallen asleep, he didn’t want to wake him. Nearing the bottom of the staircase, he could see that Kurt was no longer curled up among the pillows on his bed. He was standing in front of his desk, still naked, his hand on the letterman jacket that Puck had draped over the desk chair.
Puck opened his mouth to say… but he saw Kurt’s hand caress the jacket; and he stopped still and quiet on the stairs. He watched, as Kurt’s hand glided across the jacket’s shoulder, and down the leather sleeve. Puck would have bet serious money, that if he ever saw Kurt doing something like this, he’d laugh and tease him about it forever. He would have lost a small fortune.
Puck watched Kurt, watched his fingers slide over the leather in a gentle caress, and he didn’t feel like laughing. He felt like Kurt’s fingers were squeezing his heart. He was intruding on a private moment. He should tell Kurt he was here…Kurt picked the jacket up, and Puck knew he wasn’t going to say anything. He sank down on one of the bottom steps and watched his boyfriend.
Kurt held the jacket in his arms, and buried his face in the collar. He inhaled Puck’s body scent, and rubbed the leather against his cheek. He spun the jacket over his shoulders, and slipped his arms into the sleeves. He fingered the collar, and trailed his hand down the snaps on the front of the jacket. He crossed the room, to look at himself in the full length mirror.
Puck had to smile, seeing Kurt in his jacket. Puck was wider through the shoulders than Kurt, and the jacket fell around him loosely. The colour looked good on him, though. Puck flashed on a picture of Kurt walking the McKinley halls in his jacket. The surge of pride and possession, that tightened his gut, surprised him. Man, he was so screwed!
Kurt stared into the mirror, and slowly ran two fingers down his own chest. Puck’s eyes went wide, and his breath stuttered. He wasn’t going to …yes, he absolutely was. Puck had never seen anything more erotic in his life. Kurt’s hand drifted ever south, his arm spreading the jacket open. His fingers combed softly through his pubic hair, and detoured around his rising cock, to stroke his inner thigh, eventually holding his balls. Puck watched the long fingers stroke the delicate skin, and then tug gently. Kurt’s eyes closed, he sighed.
Puck watched it all reflected back to him, in Kurt’s mirror. Kurt opened his eyes and stared into the mirror as his hand encircled his cock, pumping the length slowly. God, he was beautiful, all pale skin against red leather, his eyes sliding shut, as he hissed in pleasure.
As erotic as this vision was, Puck couldn’t just watch anymore. He needed to take someone’s cock in hand, either Kurt’s or his own. Looking down at his own cock straining against his jeans and then over at Kurt, God! No contest. Puck stood, and thumped down the last three stairs. Kurt’s eyes flashed open. He looked into the mirror, and waited as Puck approached.
Puck stood behind Kurt. He raised one hand to brush along Kurt’s neck. “Need a hand?”
Kurt leaned back against Puck, and dropped his head back against the Titan player’s shoulder. Puck snaked both arms around his boyfriend, one hand tweaking a nipple, the other molded around Kurt’s cock. They watched themselves in the mirror. Kurt arched his back, wrapped one arm up, and back, around Puck’s neck. He set his other hand over Puck’s, on his cock. They stared into the mirror. Puck’s fingers swept the head of pre-cum, and slicked it over the length of Kurt’s shaft. Kurt traced his hand over Puck’s wrist, up his arm, and then moved it back, behind Puck, to grab his ass.
Puck groaned, and thrust into Kurt. Puck’s cock was throbbing, trapped in the denim. Shit! He should have unzipped before he started this. Fuck it! Kurt was close, Puck wasn’t stopping now. He sucked a bite into Kurt’s neck, gave a twist to the crown of Kurt’s cock, and “NOAH!” Kurt shuddered in Puck’s arms, his cum coating his boyfriend’s hand.
Kurt sighed, and stretched against Puck like a cat. He turned, and wrapped himself around Puck, sealing Puck’s mouth with his own. Puck returned the embrace with one hand, holding the other bedewed one away from Kurt’s body. Kurt stepped back. He took Puck’s hand in his, and touched his tongue to the white fluid, one short lick. Kurt wrinkled his nose. “I don’t think so.”
Puck laughed, and reached for the Kleenex box beside Kurt’s bed. He wiped his hand and grinned at Kurt. “That looks good on you, babe.”
Kurt turned to the mirror. “You think so?”
Puck nodded and pulled Kurt back against him again. “Really hot!”
Kurt laughed and turned to face Puck. He moved to take the jacket off. “Here, you’ll need this tomorrow.”
Puck shook his head. “No, you keep it.” Puck draped the jacket around Kurt’s shoulders, and held the collar closed at the other man’s neck. “I want you to wear it to school.”
Kurt’s eyes went to that crystal green that meant he was excited. “Really?” He looked down at the jacket, and then up at Puck, a frown hesitating in his glance. “You sure? It won’t be just the Glee kids, Noah. The whole school will know I’m wearing your jacket.”
Puck smirked, and pulled Kurt into his arms. “Yeah, they’ll know you’re mine.”
It was Friday, the first day of spring, not that you’d know it by the weather. Outside the classroom window, snow still clung to the grass. Kurt glanced at his watch, 9:40 AM. It was a scientific phenomenon that deserved more research; Fridays were actually longer than any other day of the week.
Kurt looked over at Puck. His boyfriend was slouched in his seat, totally ignoring the droning teacher, engrossed in some game on his phone. Kurt’s eyes roamed the broad shoulders, the muscled arms, the stupid hair cut… even after all these months, watching Puck unaware like this, Kurt still found the fact, that Puck was his boyfriend, shocking. There should be some kind of sign, some hint, that there was more to Puck than a badass in jeans. Kurt envisioned a black leather band, or maybe a tattoo, “Property of Kurt Hummel”. He smiled at the thought of Puck’s reaction to that suggestion!
Feeling Kurt’s eyes on him, Puck looked up from his phone. Kurt picked up a pencil, and locking onto Puck’s eyes, very slowly, ran his lips along its length. Puck’s eyes followed Kurt’s lips. He looked at the clock on the wall over the classroom door, and groaned.
Kurt grinned, and Puck flashed him a glare. The Titan player picked up his phone and tapped quickly.
Kurt’s phone vibrated.
2 can play that game, Hummel
Kurt thought for a second.
you can play with me anytime
Kurt watched as Puck read his text. When the other teen looked up from his phone, Kurt smiled suggestively.
Puck grinned and gave Kurt the one finger salute.
Kurt tapped his phone’s keypad.
“Mr. Puckerman, Mr. Hummel, please don’t let my class disturb you.” The history teacher got sarcastic when she was pissed.
On his way to English, Kurt passed Puck’s geography class. He stopped in the doorway, and scanned the room. Puck was just sliding into his usual desk in the back row. Dropping his books on the desk, he looked up and saw Kurt. Kurt leaned one shoulder against the door, and spread his legs open, nothing obviously indecent, just a few inches really but it got Puck’s attention. Kurt put a hand on his knee and ran it up his inner thigh. He stopped with his hand on his hip, fingers splayed across his thigh, pointed down toward his groin.
Puck came up off his seat…
“I wasn’t aware you were in this class, Kurt?” The geography teacher stood beside Kurt in the doorway.
“No, sir, I was just leaving.”
In the cafeteria, at lunchtime, Puck decided that turnabout was fair play. He sat in Kurt’s lap at the Glee table, and proceeded to ground his ass onto a very sensitive part of Kurt’s anatomy.
“Kurt, you O.K.?” Mercedes stared at her BFF, concern in her voice.
“Fine” The word emerged as a squeak, so Kurt cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m fine, Cedes.”
Santana nudged Mike, and grinned at Kurt. “You’re looking a little flushed there, lady face.”
Puck laughed, and wriggled on Kurt’s groin.
Kurt glared at the cheerleader. “Shouldn’t you be off playing tonsil hockey with Britt?”
Santana sat back and crossed her legs, all smiles. “Oh, no! It’s way too interesting right here.”
Mike raised his eye brows at Sam, who elbowed Artie; all three boys staring at Kurt and Puck. Watching as Kurt closed his eyes and bit his lip.
Rachel and Finn pulled up two chairs and joined the group. “Kurt, I’ve been thinking, we could do a duet from “Spring Awakening”?” Rachel looked at Kurt expectantly.
“Sure.” Kurt’s voice was a little shaky.
Finn looked at his brother, but Rachel didn’t notice anything unusual. “Really?” The Streisand wannabe wasn’t used to Kurt agreeing with any of her suggestions. “I thought maybe “I Don’t Do Sadness” from Act II?”
“O.K.” Kurt forced the word out between tight lips. Rachel finally noticed the absolute quiet at the table. No one was talking; they were all staring at Kurt and Puck.
Kurt teased a hand up Puck’s inner thigh, and Puck obligingly opened his legs wider. Kurt palmed the flesh under Puck’s zipper, and Puck’s breath caught. Kurt clamped his fingers shut, and squeezed.
“Fuck!” Puck jumped off Kurt’s lap. “Shit, Princess! You could have just asked me to move.”
“Oh, and if I had asked, you would have just moved, right?” Kurt hooked a foot under a chair at the next table, and dragged it over for Puck.
Puck sat down. “Well, no, probably not.”
“That’s what I thought.” And they grinned at each other.
On his way to his last class, Kurt slid through the congestion of students, and snuck up behind Puck. He ran his hand down the centre of Puck’s back, and cupped his ass. Puck stopped. He didn’t turn around. He just reached back, and grabbed Kurt’s neck, pulling him closer. “Thought you didn’t like PDAs?”
Kurt threw an arm around Puck’s shoulder, as they walked down the hallway. “That was before.”
“Before I realized I can’t keep my hands off you.” Kurt flipped his fingers through Puck’s Mohawk, and slipped into his classroom. Puck stood still amidst the swarming mass of students, until someone walked right into him. “What the fuck, Puckerman!”
Puck glanced at the classroom clock for like the fortieth time; 11 minutes to go. He pulled his phone out.
From Puck: no one’s home at my place
From Kurt: your ass or mine?
From Puck: whoever gets there first tops
Kurt hit the door running, as the last buzzer rang.
Driving in my convertible :)