Disclaimer – No matter how much I wish I did, I do not own Glee, nor make profit from it.

Summary – Kurt is so ashamed of himself.


Kurt was ashamed of himself.

Here he was, being pushed against the wall of a closet.

A janitorial closet.

Where janitors kept their cleaning supplies and dirty mops and countless other disgusting things.

And to make matters worse, Kurt didn't actually care that much.

He didn't care that his Gucci shirt was pressed against filthy white wash, or that both of his Prada suspenders (that were, not to mention, his favorite canary yellow pair) had been discarded somewhere unknown, or that his perfect, styled hair was disheveled beyond anything he'd ever had to deal with.

He did care, however, about the hot lips that were hungrily devouring his own and the long fingers that crept under his shirt and were now pressing on the tight skin stretched over the muscles in his back. He cared about the beautiful sound that Puck made when, in a moment of sexiness, bit down on his bottom lip.

Despite this all, however…

Kurt was ashamed of himself.