At first, Kurt did not think much of it. Silence had finally fallen within the white walls of his basement, Mercedes' loud laughter and Finn's blabbering replaced by light snoring, heavy breathing and the rustling of sleeping-bags. The floor was crowded, since ten Glee members struggled to fit upon the confined space. Artie slept on the couch, since it was easier for him to get into his wheelchair from there. Kurt was very comfortable in his own bed. Sure, he felt his teammates' pain, but had no desire to wake up with a puffy face and dark bags beneath his eyes. In other words; he valued his beauty sleep more than their comfort for one night. Anyway, there was no way that they all would be able to share his bed, so this really was the fairest arrangement. It was his bed, after all.
"Move over, Hummel."
Kurt was so far gone by then that he did not even bother to register who that low, rumbling voice belonged too. Being an impeccable host was tiring, even amongst his friends. With a low groan, he rolled over on his side to let whoever join him in between the sheets. The mattress complained slightly due to the added weight. Warmth soon spread to Kurt's body and he relished in the new comfort, happily floating away upon a soft cloud of starlit dreams… only to be rudely awakened again.
"Hummel… are you up?"
Slowly, very slowly, he let his heavy eyelids open.
"Now I am, genius", he snapped quietly, not wanting to cause anyone else to wake up. That voice… That voice belonged to Puck. Dear God, there was so many things wrong with the fact that Noah Puckerman had crawled into his bed while Gay Kid himself resided there, Kurt did not even know where to start.
"Good", Puck replied in a whisper next to his ear. "I've got a problem."
"I'm sleeping, Puck."
"It's an emergency."
"Fine! What kind of problem?"
There was a slight pause, a moment with no reply, in which Kurt pondered over rolling over and pushing the jock out of bed, but before he got to that point, Puck answered him.
"Dude, I've got a boner."
Now, all Kurt did was thinking of it. Noah Puckerman was in his bed. The same Puck who had introduced him to dumpster dives and made lockers a health hazard. Suddenly, Kurt felt everything. Puck's even breath caressed his neck, goose bumps decorating the skin where it had touched. He could sense his intent gaze burning holes through his head. His nipple ring was pressed against his back and if he tried really hard to feel, he could swear that he felt the jock's very defined, absolutely divine abs. Kurt's trail of thought went south. Down, down, down… My God. He could not breathe. Seriously! He knew so very well what that firmness grounded into the back of his thigh was. So… large and warm, practically pulsating with need, if he could only…
"Hummel? You're deaf or something? I said…!"
"I know very well what you said", Kurt hissed, just a hint of panic embedded in his snarling tone.
"So what are you going to do about it?"
Kurt snapped out of his slightly turned on, slightly horny state when his inner diva bitch called for a chance in the spotlight. This whole scenario was just so ridiculous, but what did it for him was the way Puck spoke to him – as if he was the daft one.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Well, it's clearly your fault."
"W-what? Excuse me, but how can this be my fault? What are you even doing in my bed?"
The boy behind him sighed and Kurt was pretty sure that he rolled his eyes too. How did he become the retarded one in this scene? Was it something he did not get, which apparently was so obvious to a certain Mr Puckerman here?
"Finn snored like some fucking elephant straight into my ear, Santana wouldn't stop kicking me and I thought you had plenty of room to share… but obviously not, since you wouldn't stop wiggling your ass against Puckzilla down there."
If it was physically possible for a pair of eyes to pop out of their sockets without help from some sharp, pointy object, Kurt's eyes would have shot straight out with enough force to do some severe damage.
"I wasn't wiggling anything against your… Puckzilla" he objected fiercely, equal parts disgusted and turned on by the idea, but mostly grossed out by the naming of Puck's… manhood. Though, the jock next to him was not known for making the wisest of choices. Exhibit A: his despicable hairdo. Mohawk? Bitch, please. Exhibit B: impregnating the head of the Celibacy Club. Exhibit C… oh well, it could go on forever and Kurt did not have forever, because this jock was pushing his rock hard member against his leg and he needed to do something about this situation… now.
"You're not gay."
Seriously, Puck's attitude was downright insulting.
"Then why did you… react?"
"Just because I'm not gay doesn't mean I'm dead. Really, Hummel, aren't you supposed to be smart? Now, are you going to help me out or what?"
A few times in life, you will be put in front of some serious choices. Tremendously huge, life changing choices. At those times you need to be realistic, keep your head clear and use your brain. No matter what Puck implied, Kurt was not dumb. Actually, he was quite clever. He knew that the chances of finding a boyfriend in Lima, Ohio were… Well, let us just say that the odds were against him, no matter how many times he and Mercedes spied for eyecandy down at the mall. Now, the chances of getting some action from a male being seemed to have increased by several numbers within the latest half an hour. But really, was he that desperate? This was Puck. Puck!
"What do you want me to do?"
It somehow felt as if he had made a deal with the devil. A noise left Puck's lips, a "huff", which almost sounded like a chuckle – dark and amused. It went straight to Kurt's groin.
The mattress groaned beneath them when the jock adjusted his position, the sheets shifted and wrinkled when he moved. Kurt held his breath, waiting, waiting… His entire body flinched when a large hand formed around his hip, pulling him to him, his back to his beautifully shaped chest. Puck's erection was still terribly arous-… noticeable! The otherwise witty soprano laid very still, waiting for a reply from his long term tormenter. Without a word, without any explanation, Puck drew a deep breath, his nose brushing against the sensitive skin behind Kurt's ear. The gesture startled him with its gentleness, the clear affection displayed in the act. Wet lips parted next to his earlobe and finally, finally, he was given some direction, because in this moment, he was clueless.
"Just stay put, Hummel", he rumbled, sending a clear shiver down Kurt's spine. "And quiet. Wouldn't want to wake anyone up, would we?"
Another low chuckle, a small rustle of sheet as Puck's head joined his on the pillow. Kurt's panicked gaze darted across the dark room, across the sleeping faces of their teammates and he prayed to Gaga that he would survive this without an enormous amount of humiliation. If someone woke up, if… if Finn woke up, he would surely die, no question about it. Then Puck rolled his hips and every small thought of Finn completely vanished from his head.
They were both dressed, there was no immediate skin-on-skin contact, but he still felt his hardened c-… cock very clearly through his indigo blue silk pyjama bottoms and Puck's washed out and worn grey briefs. He managed to kill his moan before it erupted from his lips. Puck repeated the movement, less hesitant now, pushing his member as close as the fabric would let him, again and again. His breaths had turned heavy, almost forced, hitting the back of the slighter boy's neck. Kurt's fingers clung onto the sheets beneath him as he desperately tried to contain any form of verbal outburst, because hell, this was… this was sexual congress. He almost gasped at the realization, biting down on his pillow to prevent it. He… he was practically losing his virginity, in this moment, in his basement amongst his teammates, because Noah Puckerman of all people had climbed into his bed and started to dryhump his ass. And he had not even kissed a guy yet. This was not the way it was supposed to go, he thought as he pressed his palm to his groin, trying to suppress the want within his body. It was useless and those depressing thoughts just made it all far less enjoyable.
A low, almost inaudible groan left Puck's parted lips. Kurt tensed and this time he could not hold in his stunned gasp when Puck's fingers hardened their grip around his hip, digging into fabric, skin and bones. The firmer sensation shot through Kurt's body sharply, making him tremble visibly with anticipation. The jock's hips slammed into his, forceful and with determination. He could feel his forehead, his sweaty skin, against his neck, his hard wet breaths ghosting down his collar against his shoulders. Then it happened. It was just a whisper, small enough to go by unnoticed. It could have been a hallucination, if Puck's large, calloused hand had not interlaced with Kurt's fingers three seconds later, pressing against his erection.
All of it was suddenly oddly alright. There was no insult, no Hummel, dude, man, gay kid, fag, no homo. There was only Kurt, a beautiful whisper and his name had never sounded so good. Of all the things which Puck could have chosen to whisper, he picked just the right name to call him this time. His tense muscles loosened in his arms, because he realized it now, he was actually being embraced. Their hands moved together lazily in the same pace as their hips; slow, deliberate movements against each other. Kurt allowed himself to close his eyes, to disperse in the soft pleasure which gradually overtook his body. One day, he would like to feel his skin against his, but this would do for now. They were both inexperienced in this area, but they effortlessly guided each other steadily to climax. Everything just… fit.
Puck came first. Kurt noticed it in the way his breathing turned irregular, almost hesitating and his motions jagged. It brought a small, delicate smile to his lips, when he heard the hoarse moan erupt from Puck's throat. Kurt did not dare to ask for help, but the other boy's hand soon clenched against his again, moving a bit faster, a bit firmer than before. The intensity was almost too much to bear. He was held tighter, closer and through his almost completely closed eyelids, he saw Puck's face next to his. Watching. He was watching him with dark eyes as he came closer and closer to the edge, and a part of him wondered why, why would he do such a thing, but then he shocked him with a firm twist and his head went blank. Kurt's body convulsed, back arching and if a breathless Noah escaped him, he did not stop it. Wave after wave, Puck guided him through his orgasm until he sagged down upon the mattress, completely limp.
Everything was still for a while, quiet, when it was over. Finn's snoring was the most prominent sound in his basement. Kurt did not dare to open his eyes, because if he did, Puck might have returned to his asshole self and he did not want that, not quite yet. The larger hand retracted itself from his, fingertips brushed against his arm and then stroked the brown bangs from his sweaty forehead. A thumb traced the lines of his plump lips, gently. The wet heat came as a surprise, the chaste kiss planted on him, lingering until he answered with a careful motion. Noah bumped their noses together affectionately before he laid his head to rest upon Kurt's shoulder.
Author's note: So, this is my first time writing Puck. I had tremendous fun writing him and I hope you found this enjoyable. Reviews are love 3