A/N: This isn't as good as my last fic, I don't think, but parts of it are really good and I've been working on it for ages so I really wanted to share it. It's a similar sort of thing as before, vaguely-plottish but mostly smut. Any constructive critisism would be great; just telling me you like it is good too. I love hearing which parts people liked most or which lines made you laugh, it helps me work out when I'm being funny or not. That sort of thing will help me improve! Thank you and enjoy!
Puck would forever blame his sexuality crisis on his shoelaces. If they hadn't come untied he never would have gotten a boner for Kurt Hummel's ass.
'Cause, like, he didn't usually look at Hummel's ass. Ever. Why would he? Most of the time where there was Hummel there were chicks to look at instead. But his shoelaces were untied so he'd needed to crouch down to tie them up, and that put him at eye level with a pair of sexy-as-fuck knee high black boots. Now, Puck was not ashamed to admit that he kind of had a fetish for knee high black boots - on chicks, that is, not on him - so he did stop for a look. These were hot boots, three inch heels and suede, tight on a pair of slender calves with three buckles up the outside. He'd let his eyes trail up slowly, seeing that a pair of sinfully tight white skinny jeans were tucked into the top of the boots. The thighs those jeans covered were just as sinful, muscular and long; this chick's legs went on forever. And that ass!
The legs shifted, turning away from Puck so he could see that amazing ass; tight and small but round like a C, pert and perfect. He got hard, like, the second he saw that ass. And no one could judge him for that! Any guy would have found that ass (and those legs and those boots and those jeans) sexy as hell. But then the legs turned again and he looked up to see if her tits were as good as the rest of her and it was Kurt freaking HUMMEL, fiddling with his iPhone with his weight on one hip, and Puck really, really fucking wished that had killed his boner but it hadn't and it was all his shoelaces' fault.
So now Puck found himself spending disturbing amounts of time following Hummel with his eyes, trying to get another decent look at his ass without anyone noticing, and even though his lust should have been dead and buried the second he realised he was checking out a dude, it wasn't. Holy fuck-buckets, it wasn't. Hummel's ass was still as smokin' as the first time Puck had seen it, his legs were still miles long and his pants were still so tight it should be illegal; or they usually were, anyway. When they weren't Puck would spend most of the day sulking.
He began to wonder if Hummel's ass was as squishy as it looked, or if his lips were as soft, or what his ever-so-cultured voice would sound like rough with sex or screaming Puck's name. He wanted to see Hummel flustered, hair a mess and sweaty and flushed, clothes rumpled and unbuttoned or just plain gone. He had wet dreams about Hummel's pretty pink lips wrapped around his cock that were hotter than his dreams about a threesome with Jessica Alba and Scarlett Johansson. He got hard in Glee watching Hummel shake his ass around to the music, and had had to adopt a kind of hunch-back posture to hide it. He was totally, undeniably, 100% lusting after Kurt Hummel, and it was all because of his hot ass and knee high boots and Puck's fucking shoelace.
So now the thing Puck wanted more than anything in the world wasn't a million dollars, wasn't a rosewood Telecaster, wasn't a dozen Playboy bunnies at his beck and call; it was Kurt Hummel alone in his room, on his bed, for one hour.
"Puckerman, why are you looking at me like I'm the last eclair in the bakery?"
And thanks to Glee and the Hat of Fate, that was exactly what he had.
Puck had almost kissed Mr Schuester when he'd announced the duet project and pulled those two names out of the hat. It was perfect. Perfect. The perfect in to Hummel's pants and he couldn't wait to see if his fantasies could be out-done. He'd practically skipped over to Hummel when he'd had a chance, and the look of absolute glee on his face had kind of creeped the countertenor out. He'd tried to look more innocent when he suggested that they meet at his place after five because his mom would be out, but that just seemed to make the kid more suspicious. However, he'd found no way to politely decline, so at five past five Puck had let the immaculately dressed Kurt Hummel into his house, head so full of plans and schemes for getting the pale boy in his bed and on his dick that he'd almost forgotten to say hello.
Now the sexy (beautiful, gorgeous, totally fucking HOT) boy was gingerly sitting on Puck's bed like it was going to bite him, looking more than a little unnerved at the almost psychotic joy on Puck's face, looking through this iPod for possible song choices for them. If he didn't get Hummel naked by the end of the evening he might have to... shank a kitten or something equally rage-ful and psychotic; he wanted Kurt so much it hurt, and not just because of the epic blue balls.
"No reason!" Puck grinned cheerfully, once again almost skipping as he approached the boy on his bed (On his fucking BED, yo!). Hummel looked at him like he was completely insane as Puck dropped down right next to him, their thighs pressed together. Puck leaned over under the pretence of reading the screen of Kurt's iPod. "So, you got anything decent we can use on that thing?"
Hummel's eyebrows were raised at their proximity, and he shifted away from Puck. Puck just leaned over more, reaching over to grab the wrist that held the iPod. He smirked a little at the way Hummel's posture stiffened as he squinted at the tiny screen, practically leaning on Hummel's thighs.
"I am not doing a show tune," Puck stated flatly, releasing the iPod and leaning back to rest his elbows on the bed. No show tune could possibly help him get into Kurt's fantastically tight pants, they were too tame. "No fucking way. Pick something else."
Hummel huffed at him, shooting a glare over his shoulder before returning his gaze to his iPod, "You have no appreciation for the classics. Les Miserables was the third longest running show in - "
"I don't care, dude," Puck interrupted flopping onto his back and staring at the cracks in the ceiling. "Let's do something recent. Something sexy."
When Hummel took a breath to speak, Puck specified, "Something sung by a guy."
Hummel let the breath out in a huff, and Puck could just imagine him pouting. He began to sit up to see if he could catch a glimpse of that when Hummel spoke again.
"How about Adam Lambert, then?"
Puck paused, "Never heard of him."
"Well, he's new, and he has some very sexy music."
Hummel's voice was so perfectly innocent and light that Puck was suspicious. He sat up again, "He's gay, isn't he?"
There was a smile in Hummel's voice now, as well as enough mischief to give Puck his answer, "Here's his album cover. Tell me what you think."
Puck leaned over Kurt again, intentionally propping himself up with an arm that brushed Hummel's waist. He squinted at the iPod, and spoke in a completely dead pan tone, "Oh my God, Prince and Gerard Way had a baby together, and he's a douchebag."
Hummel cracked up at this, rocking back into Puck's arm. Puck smirked up at him as the smaller boy threw his head back, surprise making him forget his composure.
After a moment he calmed down, placing a dainty hand on his chest, "Oh Gucci, you're totally right. That's exactly what he looks like. "
"Does he have any decent music?" Puck leaned in again, pressing the arm he was leaning on against Hummel's side a bit; just enough so that Hummel could feel the heat his muscles radiated. He saw Hummel's eyes flick over to him, and smirked. He was getting to him. Point: Puckerman.
"A few things," Hummel nodded, fixing his fringe in a way Puck had seen him do constantly in his fix of Hummel-watching. "If you want something sexy, For Your Entertainment is probably the raunchiest. It's not very subtle."
"Let's hear it."
They bent their heads together in order to listen to Kurt's iPod. As the raunchy words and sultry beat pounded into Puck's ears, he took a chance to check Hummel out. He was wearing another pair of those fantastically tight skinny jeans he favoured so much, and a long purple button-up shirt that may or may not have actually been a dress, cinched at his waist with a thick belt. Puck didn't like it; he hadn't been able to see Hummel's ass all day.
The song came to an end, and Hummel tried to shift away, "Mr Schuester would probably have a heart attack if we do that one, so -"
"It's perfect," Puck smirked. Hummel froze and looked over to him, eyebrows raised. He grinned, "Come on, it's dirty as hell, got a decent beat, and we could totally make it hotter."
"And Mr Schuester?" Hummel's pouty mouth quirked into a smile. Puck's eyes flickered to it, and his grin turned a little feral.
"He's going to pick Rachel or Finn's anyway. We should totally do this one."
"And you have no problem with singing a song about sex that's by a gay man, with a gay man?" Hummel's voice was disbelieving, and his raised eyebrows were quickly becoming a kink for Puck. He forced himself to focus on Hummel's blue-green eyes ('Oh wow, imagine those eyes looking up at you while that mouth was -') and responded with his cockiest drawl.
"Studs are exempt from sexual labels. It's, like, the rule -" (That Puck had recently made up in order to save his sanity and pride) " - so fuck no, I don't care. I wanna do this one."
Hummel shrugged a dismissive shoulder, "Okay, For Your Entertainment it is. That was easier than I , hey, I think he's Jewish too. You'll be able to keep your record. "
Puck shrugged, "I would have done it anyway."
"What can I say, I'm just full of surprises," Puck cocked his head to one side, pulling out his most charming smile, the one that made cheerios and their mothers alike suddenly decide they need a new pool cleaner. Hummel appeared unaffected, looking through his bag for something.
"Uh huh. Do you have a printer?"
"Not since Sarah broke it," Hummel paused in his rummaging, looking up at Puck blankly. He clarified. "My kid sister, Sarah? My mom told her the printer was out of ink, so she broke like forty pens and jammed the inks into the cartridge slot."
Hummel's mouth twitched into a smile, and Puck nodded, rolling his eyes, "Yeah, we can't afford a new one, so no printer. I just print stuff off at school."
"Well, that's not of much use to us now," Hummel shook his head. "You need the lyrics. I'll have to write them out for you."
"Take your time, I'll start downloading the song," Puck got up and moved over to his ancient computer - (seriously, it was his mom's in college) - and hit the on button (and the side when that didn't work). As it booted up, he swiveled in his chair around to watch Hummel. He was still sitting with effeminately crossed legs, resting a note book on his lap as he wrote. Puck greedily took in the sight of his strong, slender hands working, allowing himself a short fantasy about what else they could do. When Hummel happened to glance up at him a minute later he had a hungry smirk on his face, and he knew his eyes would be dark. Hummel paused.
"Can I help you?" he said slowly, suspicion making him shift back a little. Puck smirked wider.
"Just enjoying the view," Puck drawled, sliding down in his chair with his long legs stretched out in front of him, raising his hands so they were linked behind his head. He saw Hummel's eyes flicker over him and smirked; it had taken several hours of experimentation in front of his mother's long mirror, but he knew that this was his sexiest pose. It showed off his legs, his guns, and his awesome torso in general. Particularly if, like now, he was wearing a t-shirt he'd shrunk in the wash - it stretched across his broad chest and rode up at the bottom, showing a line of tanned skin. Hummel's eyes settled on that, and Puck couldn't help but taunt him a little. "See anything you like?"
Hummel's cheeks flushed ('I wonder how low that blush goes?') and he scowled, drawing himself up as tall as he could whilst still sitting, "No, but you should probably know that your ego is showing... and your computer loaded a while ago."
Puck craned his neck to look over his shoulder - it really had. He whirled around, setting up the download quickly so he could go back to watching Hummel. He turned his body in the chair, swinging his leg over the back to he was straddling the back of it. He slung his arms over the back and resumed his inspection of Hummel. Hummel was scowling a little now, and might have been - no, he was definitely pouting. Puck rolled the chair forward until he was only inches away from the countertenor, leaning over the chair to look at how much he had done. Hummel glared up at him through long lashes.
"Ever heard of personal space?" his voice was icy, but Puck just smirked at him, trying to twist his head to read the writing on the page. When that didn't work he slid off his chair and back next to Hummel on his bed. His body was pressed against Hummel's arm, and he felt Hummel shift uncomfortably.
"How much you have to go?" he turned his face to Hummel's, letting his breath (fresh, he'd made sure to chew some peppermint gum when he'd found out Hummel would be coming over) warm the other boy's face. A hint of a blush stained Hummel's pale cheeks, but his voice was just as composed and haughty as ever.
"Still about half. Go check on the download."
Puck reluctantly obeyed, smirking a little when he heard the quiet sigh of relief behind him. He pushed his chair out of the way, instead bending over the desk so his tight-jean covered ass was on display. He thought he heard a slight intake of breath behind him and grinned.
"Still ages, our Internet is fucking slow," he called over his shoulder. A devious thought flew into his head, and he fought to keep the mischief out of his voice. "Hey, I'm going to check on Sarah, she's in her room. Back in five."
Hummel waved him away, frowning at the note book in front of him. He tried not to look too devious as he left the room. He poked his head into Sarah's room, where she was lying on the floor colouring.
"Hey Sar-Bear, do you want some juice?" he asked her cheerfully. Her head shot up when she heard him, and she her smile was made all the cuter by her missing front tooth.
"Yeah, apple juice!" she squealed, all but launching herself at him. He scooped her into a hug, then allowed her to clamber around him until she was getting a piggy back ride (her preferred method of transportation). As he carried her off down the hall he felt a little guilty about using her to help him get laid, but he figured she'd never know about it. All she'd know was that her brother was a weirdo and she got juice.
Once in the kitchen he set her down on the table. She swung her legs back and forth and sang a little song under her breath as he got two plastic cups out of the cupboard. He turned to face her, kneeling down so she was above him. He smiled at her cheekily, and spoke in a stage whisper, "I need you to do me a favour, Sar-bear, A super secret, can't tell anyone favour."
She nodded seriously, leaning forward with wide eyes. He smiled wider, and lifted the cups so she could see them, "I'm going to fill both of these cups with apple juice. This one -" he held her favourite Disney Princess cup higher, " - you can drink, but this one - " he raised the other cup, " - I want you to pour on me."
She blinked her big brown eyes at him, tilting her head to the side in confusion, "How come?"
He shrugged, quickly thinking up a story that would make sense to an eight-year-old, "I want to taste like apple juice."
She giggled, "You're really silly, Noah."
"Yep!" he grinned at her. "I'll clean up the floor and everything. All you got to do is pour the apple juice on my t-shirt... and don't tell anyone. Okay?"
"Okay!" she nodded vigorously, wide eyed and earnest.
"That's my girl, just a minute," He stood up, putting the cups on the counter. He filled both up with juice under her watchful inspection. He put hers to one side, then turned to give her the other one. He knelt in front of her, holding out his t-shirt so it was easier for her to hit.
"Okay, aim for my shirt and not my face, all right?" He instructed. She nodded, giggling, and poured it over him. He swore when the ice liquid seeped through his thin shirt, making her giggle and sing, "Noah said a bad word!" He stood up when she was done, inspecting the mess on his shirt and the floor. He grinned.
"Perfect, sweetheart. Here's your juice," he handed her the cup. He carefully put her on the floor away from the spill, not letting any get onto her. "Now go back to your room, okay? We're having pizza for dinner tonight."
She cheered and merrily rushed out of the room, totally ignoring Puck's "No running with juice!" He peeled his wet shirt off and walked the few feet to the laundry room, throwing in the sink. He wiped up the juice from his chest with a wet towel, and then the juice from the floor. He headed back to his room with a bare, wet chest and a smirk.
He slipped into his room confidently, Hummel apparently done with the writing. The countertenor glanced up at him over his cell phone, doing a double take when he saw Puck's defined (divine) chest on display.
"Lose something?" Hummel spluttered, looking back at his phone with flaming cheeks. Puck shrugged easily.
"Sarah spilt apple juice on my shirt," he said airily. Hummel stared determinedly at his phone as Puck swaggered over to stand right in front of him. "You done with the lyrics?"
Hummel pointed to the notebook on the bed next to him, and Puck leaned over him to grab it.
He sat down next to Hummel nonchalantly to read over them.
"These are seriously hot," he commented, lying back on the bed so his toned chest was stretched out, all for Hummel's eyes to feast on. He could see under the book that that was exactly what was happening; Hummel's eyes were focused on Puck's abs like they were the most delicious thing he'd ever seen. Puck even thought he saw Hummel lick those plump lips of his. He continued as though he were oblivious. "The choreography for this is going to have to be extreme. Should be fun."
"Mmm," Kurt hmmed his agreement, still staring at Puck's abs. Puck raised the book so he was staring straight at Hummel, smirking his challenge. For a few seconds Hummel didn't notice, caught up in his own thoughts (fantasies), but finally he dragged his eyes away from Puck's six-pack, up his defined chest and to his smirking face. Kurt's face flushed, and he turned back to face his phone.
"The download must be ready now, go play it. We'll start dividing up parts," his voice was higher and faster then usual, and Puck chuckled under his breath.
"Yeah, sounds good," he got to his feet slowly and swaggered over to his computer.
"And put a shirt on, for Gaga's sake," Hummel added fiercely, glaring at his phone. "This isn't a Playgirl photo shoot and I'm not one of your desperate housewives."
Puck clicked the music on, and turned to face Hummel as it came on. He quirked an eyebrow at the smaller teen and lazily scratched his chest with one hand. He saw Hummel's eyes focus on that hand for a second, before dragging his eyes back down to his phone.
"I know you're not and I know where we are," Puck rolled his shoulders as the music began blaring from the speakers behind him, shooting Hummel a challenging look. "You seem to like the view anyway."
The countertenor blushed again, but didn't look up, "Keep telling yourself that. Maybe one day it will be true. Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I'm attracted to everything on the planet that has a dick."
"Wouldn't think you were," Puck shrugged. "But I am pretty fucking hot. Have you seen my guns?"
He flexed his arms and Hummel's eyes flickered up. The smaller boy sighed dramatically, "Yes, Puck. They're very nice. Now would you please put a shirt on? We have more important things to do then feed your ego and sully my virgin eyes."
Puck chuckled and sauntered over to his drawers, pulling out a black t-shirt he knew had been shrunk with the one he'd been wearing earlier (He wasn't good at laundry, okay? There was a reason he hadn't warn a white shirt in a while; all his were now pink.) He made sure to face Hummel before he pulled it over his head, the other boy's gaze burning a hole in his stomach. Hummel was looking back at the lyrics when his head finally poked through the top, but there was a bright flush on his face that belied his innocence. He marked a few points on the note book with his pen, ignoring Puck when he once again sat down next to him.
"The parts I've circled are what I think you should sing," he informed him, his voice slightly higher again. Puck leaned over him in order to see the lyrics better. Hummel continued to ignore him. "We can choreograph around that. Go start the song again, I'll sing along, you read the lyrics."
"Yes, your Highness," Puck rolled his eyes as he stood up. "Seriously, what is it with you and dishing out orders? I'm no one's bitch."
"That's funny, you're doing a great job of doing what I say," Hummel smiled at him sweetly, a glint of...something interesting in his eyes. Puck met the challenge.
"Anything for you, Princess."
Hummel flushed again. Puck smirked. Point Puckerman.
He hit the play button and the beat began pounding through the room again. Puck sauntered back over to Hummel, standing directly in front of where he was sitting on the bed. It put the smaller boy at the perfect level to -
"This is the part you'll be singing, would you at least read the lyrics?"
- boss him around some more. Puck sighed and snatched the lyrics from Hummel's waiting hand, trying not to pout. He knew getting into Hummel's pants wouldn't be as easy as the average Cheerio but damn. He was using his best tricks and Hummel still hadn't cracked. He needed to move things along.
He plotted as they ran through the lyrics a few times. Hummel seemed rather shocked (disappointed?) at his sudden drop in interest, but helped him learn his part without commenting on it. Puck picked it up pretty quickly - music was his thing, you know? - and Hummel let out a surprised huff.
"Okay, that's actually pretty good," he admitted grudgingly. "I can't think of any advice I can give you in terms of singing it -"
"I can think of something for you, actually," Puck's voice was sly, and he grinned at Hummel's indignant gasp.
"Excuse me? You're going to criticize my singing?" Hummel's voice was getting higher, and Puck snorted as he almost squawked the last word. Puck raised his hands in a placating way.
"You sound fantastic dude-" ("Do not call me -") - "Sorry, princess. You sound awesome, you always do. You're awesome," Puck reassured him, getting to his feet and stretching his arms above his head. "But you can't treat this sort of song like it's Over the Fuckin' Rainbow. It's about sex. It should sound like sex."
Hummel's cheeks were pink again, and he was glaring at Puck with an adorable pout. Puck continued, drawling suggestively, "I mean, shit. That part in the middle, where you go all high and do that long note...thing? I'm pretty sure that's meant to sound like you're coming, princess."
Hummel's pink tint turned into a totally red blush, and he spluttered. Puck smirked, and shrugged innocently, "You know what? Forget I said anything. You couldn't pull it off, anyway."
"Excuse me? Are you saying I can't be sexy?" Hummel demanded, getting to his feet and putting his hands on his hips. Puck knew an opportunity when he saw one; he stepped forward and slid his arms around Hummel's narrow waist, pulling the other boy flush against him. He grinned wolfishly at Hummel's wide-eyed gasp, and leaned in so their lips were almost touching.
"Trust me, princess. I know you can be sexy," Puck murmured. He leaned it to kiss the smaller boy, but found two soft, slender fingers in his way. Hummel's eyes were narrowed suspiciously, but he didn't pull away.
"Puckerman, what are you playing at?" his voice was flat and his expression was hard, but Puck knew what someone who wanted him looked like. Hummel's eyes were dark and his breathing was slightly faster then it had been before. Puck smirked. Pretty much looks like that. "You've been hitting on me since I got here, and surely you know me well enough to know that I'm too smart to fall for your shit with no questions."
"I'm playing," he drawled, sliding a hand down Hummel's back as he spoke. He skipped Hummel's ass - no point in freaking him out too much just yet - and instead grasped the smaller boy's toned thigh, grinding them closer together. "At both of us getting laid tonight. Or at least getting off. Whatever."
He didn't pull his mouth away from Hummel's slender fingers, letting his slightly chapped lips brush against them. Hummel was still looking at him with a deadpan expression, but there was a promising spark in his expression, "You're straight, Puck. And I'm not so desperate as to be a moron."
"What, princess, weren't you listening to me earlier?" Puck smirked into those long fingers. He trailed a hand up that delicious thighs, stopping just at the curve of that ass he so admired. "I'm hurt. I told you, studs like me are exempt from sexual labels. Call me what the fuck ever you want, I'll fuck who I want to fuck."
"Even the resident fag?" Hummel's eyes were challenging. Puck didn't falter.
"Anyone who makes those weird-ass clothes look as hot as you do is someone who's pants I want to get into."
"Why would I want the guy who spent many years making my life hell?"
"Shit, haven't I paid enough for that? Yeah, I was a douche. I'm not asking you to forgive me or love me or like me. I'm suggesting that we both take advantage of a clearly mutual attraction and get our freak on."
"Those were some pretty big words in there," Hummel teased, one arched eyebrow rising. A smirk played on his soft, pink lips, and he was looking at Puck with curious eyes. "I'm sure you know Mercedes, my dad, and Finn well enough to know what will happen to you if you're just messing with me."
"Yeah, it would not be pretty," Puck agreed, wincing. "But I'm not. I'm hot, I'm horny, and you have a damn fine ass. You want some of this or not?"
There was a long pause. Finally, Hummel's fingertips traced his lips and muttered, "Well, I guess my other option is being celibate until college."
Then the fingers were gone from his mouth and were replaced by lips as soft as silk and those slender fingers sliding up the back of his neck. Puck smirked into Hummel's mouth as he got to work, trailing his hand up and finally, finally getting to squeeze that fantastically sexy ass.
Both boys groaned into the other's mouth at the contact - Kurt at the sudden, thrilling burst of pleasure that his already hypersensitive body processed, Puck from the realization that yes, it did feel as good as it looked. Kurt's hand was tangled in Puck's t-shirt, pulling the taller boy against him. Puck smirked into Kurt's pouty mouth at Kurt's total abandonment of composure the second their lips had crashed together. The pale boy's lips were silky soft, but forceful and greedy. It wasn't like kissing a girl, teasing and submissive. It was hard, a battle for dominance; their lips fought for control of the speed and tempo, their tongues curled around one another roughly, teeth occasionally clashed together... all of it sending shooting sparked from the tips of tongues to the tips of fingers and toes. It was electric.
Meanwhile, both boys attempted to grasp all of the other at once. Kurt's strong fingers were digging into the back of Puck's neck to hold him close, then dragging down strong arms to feel the muscles move underneath the skin, sliding up firm sides and across Puck's broad, muscular back, always trying to pull their bodies closer together, even after there wasn't any space between them. Puck kept one hand kneading the ass that had so tormented him, loving the way it felt underneath his hand and the sounds Hummel made when he squeezed. His other hand roamed around Hummel's tight body, finding a surprising amount of enjoyment in the smooth planes of waist and back, not really missing the feeling of breasts against him as he groped; damn, maybe he really did like dudes as well as chicks. He was sure as fuck enjoying this.
Hummel was whimpering and moaning like it was the greatest thing he'd ever felt, and Puck took a moment to yank their groins together. The movement made Kurt cry out, and Puck took advantage of his distraction to plunder that hot, wet mouth again. He slid his tongue in and out, pushing Kurt backwards towards the bed. The smaller boy didn't let him keep control for long, however. The second Kurt felt his knees hit the edge of the bed, Puck found himself being pulled around by surprisingly strong arms. Puck was suddenly flat on his back on his bed, with a flushed Hummel crawling up his body.
"God damn, Hummel," Puck gasped as a muscular thigh ground down against his erection and swollen lips latched onto his throat. Pleasure shot down Puck's spine and made his eyes slide shut as Kurt took control, talented hands rubbing at the muscles in the taller boy's thighs and chest while an even better mouth set about devouring the column of his throat. Puck managed to grind out a snide remark through the haze of lust. "You really are desperate for it, aren't you?"
"Shut up, Puckerman," was the biting reply - punctuated by a sharp bite on his throat. Hummel rose up so he was straddling Puck's lap, looking down at the taller boy with lust darkened eyes. He ground his hips down, rocking his ass against Puck's erection. His bruised lips twisted into a satisfied smirk at the groan this produced from the boy below him. "You're loving it."
He kept rocking his hips slowly, sensually, as his hands drifted to the belt around his waist. Puck's darkened eyes focused on the movement, content to just lie back, enjoy the building pleasure from the grind, and see what Hummel had in store for them... for now, at least. Those long, pale fingers undid the belt with ease, flicking it off and throwing it to the side with one movement. Puck reached up and grabbed Kurt's bony hips, shifting the rhythm of their slow rock. The air crackled between them as they rocked together, holding the gaze of the other. Time seemed to be running slow as Kurt unbuttoned his shirt-dress, revealing flawlessly pale skin inch by inch. Somehow, the sensuality of the slow striptease and the grinding was the hottest thing Puck had ever experienced. Every sensation was magnified by anticipation; even the feeling of the soft skin above the line of Kurt's jeans on his calloused fingers was going straight to his cock.
And this is just the foreplay, he realised, mouth watering at the thought of it getting better. Doing Hummel was the best. Idea. EVER.
Hummel's face flushed redder as he slipped the violet fabric off his shoulders and tossed it onto Puck's desk chair. Puck grinned; the blush really did go all the way down. The thought broke the hold Kurt's gaze had on his, and he began to move. With one movement the taller boy twisted and pinned Kurt underneath him, and the spell that had slowed time down ended. Languid sensuality was replaced by a raging, desperate lust, and they were kissing again. Hummel's skin was soft and heated under his rough hands, and Puck couldn't help the almost vicious tweak he gave one of those dusty pink nipples. The noise Hummel made went straight to Puck's groin; he was an expert at making women scream, but never from something as simple and rough as a twist. He dragged his mouth away from Hummel's, dragging wet lips down the pale neck, biting gently on the pronounced collarbone, grinding them together as he slooooowly dragged his lips to that now-reddish nipple. The gasp this caused... tingled.
He gently suckled then nipped at the bud, switching over to the other one when ever Hummel's breathing started to become more gasping than inhaling. He'd never had a lover react to easily, so loudly, so hot...ly. He would have been perfectly happy to continue tweaking and twisting until Kurt came in his skin-tight jeans, but the countertenor had different ideas.
"Puck," he half snarled, half groaned. He was trying to glare, but the flush on his cheeks and his slightly unfocused eyes made the effect less than intimidating. "These jeans are really tight and kind of uncomfortable right now, so if you don't help me out of them right fucking now, so help me Prada I will destroy you."
Puck snorted, but obeyed. He trailed a teasing hand down Kurt's torso ("Oh fuck, oh fuck, you tease, cut it out.") and paused to grind the bulge under the zipper. Kurt made a whining noise, his back arching off the bed, and Puck smirked, Who's awesome? I'm awesome.
He initially bypassed the zip, running his hands down those legs that still seemed like they went on forever. He ignored Hummel's protests and threats, simply sliding off the weird-ass white shoes Hummel was wearing, and the socks. He slid his hands back up the trembling legs and finally, finally moved to help Hummel out.
It took two hands to undo the button - Hummel took tight jeans to new levels - but as soon as the zip came down a blue silk covered dick jumped out and oh yeah, Puck definitely liked dudes as well as chicks because that was one of the hottest things he had ever seen. Puck peeled the jeans off eagerly, pressing an impulsive kiss to a smooth, hairless thigh as he did. Kurt's dick actually twitched at this, and fuck if that didn't make Puck feel even more like a sex-god than usual.
Puck never thought he'd want to touch another guy's dick - even when he'd imagined this, he'd less thought about touching Kurt and more about Kurt touching him - so the burst of heat that struck him when he pulled down the silky blue boxers caught him off guard. Kurt lay naked in front of him, miles of smooth skin and sweat, hair a mess and unashamedly panting in his lust, and Puck wanted to touch every inch of him. This was the Kurt Hummel Puck had wanted to see since he first wanted him; messy, desperate, aching, wanting, frantic...
"Puckerman, if you don't do something soon, so help me I will take care of myself and leave."
...and still so hilariously Kurt Hummel that Puck's lust was interrupted by an unexpected wave of affection. He's almost delirious and he's still bossing me around...
"Your wish is my command, princess," Puck murmured, sliding his hands up that smooth torso and trapping Kurt's lips in a kiss. The smaller boy writhed underneath him, sliding determined hands under Puck's t-shirt and impatiently tugging it up. Puck obediently slid it of his head, gasping when a hot mouth latched onto his skin. It was like Kurt was trying to devour him, pressing kisses and nips and licks all over his chest and abs. The countertenor suddenly paused.
"Holy Jacobs, I thought you were lying but you actually taste like apple juice," he said flatly, and Puck just laughed and kissed him again.
Puck's jeans were quickly disposed of by an increasingly impatient Kurt, kicked to the floor and leaving their naked bodies pressed together. Their mouths wrestled, hot and wet, as they rocked together. Puck's nerves were on fire. Every touch was driving him crazy; the heat and passion of the tongue almost fucking his mouth, the soft but firm hands roaming across all the skin they could reach, the slight pain of nails digging in during a particularly strong thrust, the feeling of soft, sticky skin desperately rutting against him, and the noises, God, the noises. He would have guessed Hummel was vocal but the whimpers and moans and gasps and pleading... he needed more. He dragged himself away from a protesting Kurt and wrapped a hand around his own cock, and his other around Kurt's. Kurt bucked into his hand, eyes shut. Puck's cock twitched.
"Enough foreplay," he growled, slowly jerking Kurt off and relishing in the moans. "I want to fuck you. You game?"
Hummel's eyes snapped open, and for a moment he just stared into Puck's eyes. Then his gaze trailed down Puck's ripped chest, the sweat and the six-pack, to the thick cock that was red and leaking. He moaned, "Fuck, yes, I want that in me. Do you know how-?"
"Yeah, I've done this with girls, don't worry," Puck pressed one last open mouthed kiss to those trembling lips and gave Kurt's leaking cock one slow stroke before sliding off the bed. "Hang on."
He left Kurt whimpering to grab the lube and condoms in his bedside drawer. When he turned back around, Kurt was biting his lip and staring at the ceiling. Puck paused. He dropped the stuff on the bed, then slid next to Kurt. He trailed a hand down the smooth torso in front of him, and pressed soft kissed up the pale column of throat. When Kurt hummed a happy noise, Puck spoke, "Nervous?"
"A little," Kurt admitted, shrugging the shoulder that wasn't pressed against Puck. Puck sucked on his neck a little, smirking when he saw how easily a soft pink mark raised. "Never done this before."
"Relax," Puck pulled himself so he was above the smaller boy. He let his cock trail against Kurt stomach, leaving a line of precum in it's wake, and the boy's breathing sped up, licking his lips. "I'll make it good for you, and I'll stop if you tell me to, no questions. I know what I'm doing. Who better to give it up to then an old pro, right?"
Kurt grinned, and nodded, "Excellent point. Just... be careful?"
Puck lowered his head and brushed his mouth across Kurt's, "It's no fun unless we're both having fun anyway."
Kurt nodded," Okay. Do it; fuck me."
The sound of that dirty plea from prissy Kurt's mouth nearly did Puck in. He pressed their mouths together again, trying to pick up the heat from where they had left off. Kurt responded eagerly, sliding his hands up and down Puck's chest to grasp his cock. Puck groaned and reached for the lube, skillfully uncapping it with one hand and coating his fingers. He nudged apart Kurt's legs with his knee, and the smaller boy spread them willingly. The smell of sweat and sex was making Puck's dick twitch, and he gladly used the time he spent teasing to get himself under control; it wouldn't do to only last a minute. He was going to rock Kurt's world if it was the last thing he did.
Kurt's breathing was heavy as Puck slowly slid the slippery fingers down his chest, but when Puck shot him a questioning look he just snarled, "Hurry up, I'm so hard."
Puck chuckled, pausing to stroke Kurt's cock and watch his back arch, "Patience, babe."
"Fuck patience, I want you to be fucking me now," was the desperate plea. "Puck, just do it."
Puck teased Kurt's hole with one finger, just slipping the tip passed the ring of muscle, "What's the magic word?"
Kurt moaned and clung to Puck's biceps as the finger dipped in and out of his hole just barely, building a burning want in him like he'd never felt before. He tried to shift down and force it in further, but Puck just pulled away with him, "Oh fuck, Puck, just do it!"
"Not until you say the magic word," Puck twisted the finger a little, teasing without giving enough to scratch the itch he knew the other boy was feeling. He gently squeezed the weeping cock in front of him, ignoring his own arousal for now; he'd get the mother load in a little while anyway. Kurt gave a low whine as Puck slid his finger just a little further then he had before, but nearly sobbed when the finger retreated again.
"Now until you say-"
"Please, Puck. Please hurry up and stretch me out so you can fuck me and I can get off. Please!"
Puck wordlessly slid his finger home, and Kurt's voice cut off with a surprised squeak that turned into a whimper. The smaller boy was rocking a little into the intrusion, fucking himself on the finger.
"Fuck, that's hot," Puck swore, hungrily watching as the thoroughly debauched boy ran a hand over his own chest. The mohawked boy latched his mouth onto Kurt's neck again, sucking another spot red as he slipped a second finger along side the first.
"Oh fuck, fuck, yes," Kurt babbled, rocking himself with more energy. Puck just held his hand still and let Kurt do the work, keeping his eyes on the sweaty, flushed face and the lust glazed eyes as he jerked himself a little in rhythm of Kurt's self-stimulation. Puck started twisting his fingers a little, jabbing them in unexpectedly before pulling them out slowly, fascinated by the increasingly frantic reactions of the boy beneath him. The girls he had tried this with had been disinterested at best, nothing like the writhing mass of mewling lust twisting around in his sheets now. He started scissoring his fingers, loving the way the tight flesh clung to them and tried to swallow them up. He added another finger at Kurt's mostly incoherent urging, twisting and stretching and driving both of them crazy. When he hit a certain angle Kurt nearly screamed, shamelessly begging to do it again as he bucked frantically. Words and sounds were spilling from Kurt's mouth like a waterfall. Puck drank it in greedily.
"More, I'm so ready, do it!" Kurt begged, bucking his hips up. "Please, Puck, fuck me now, I want you so much."
Puck grabbed a condom, ripping it open with his teeth and sliding it on with practiced skill. Kurt whimpered when his fingers slipped out, spreading his legs wider and pulling Puck into another kiss. Puck felt Kurt's slender hand slide out from under Puck's chest and grabbing the lube. A slightly shaky hand rubbed Puck's cock with the slippery oil, making the taller boy groan. After a moment Puck battered his hand away, "Enough, I don't want to come because I've fucked you."
"Do it," Kurt urged again, biting Puck's neck softly. "Just... slowly."
"I will," Puck promised, lining himself up. He pushed in as he'd promised, slowly and carefully. The amazing tightness and heat made him glad he had to go slowly; he was going to lose it in no time if he just pounded in. Kurt's moan was hoarse; he was beginning to lose his voice from all the noise he'd been making. Both boys gasped and clung to one another as Puck slowly pushed into Kurt, letting the boy feel every inch sliding into him, stretching him, filling him, until they were totally joined. Both boys took a moment to focus; Kurt on staying relaxed despite the somehow-pleasurable burning feeling of being split, Puck on not ending it before it had really began. Puck's concentration was broken when Kurt started squirming underneath him, rocking his hips and creating an amazing friction where they were joined.
"You ready?" Puck ground out between gritted teeth (Holy shit, I feel like Finn. I need a mailman!) He felt Kurt nod.
"Yes. I'm ready."
Puck took his cue. He rocked back, pulling out of Kurt slowly. When only the head was still inside that amazing heat, he pushed back in with the same agonising slowness. Kurt gasped again, babbling his pleasure at the ceiling as he dug his nails into Puck's biceps.
"Oh god, oh god, so good, more, faster, it feels so good - "
"Fuck, you're so tight. You want me to go faster?"
"Yes! Please, Puck - fuck!"
Puck rammed back into the sweet, tight heat of Kurt's body, and finally gave into the urge to pound into him. His thrusts became fast and rough, trying to find the angle that would make Kurt scream. After a few slams, he found it; Kurt's breathless moans became wild shrieks. Puck shut his eyes,just letting himself feel the insanely tight grip Kurt had on him, the heat and slick of their sweat skin rubbing together, the twists and desperate bucking of the hot body beneath him... he wasn't going to last long. Now he just had to make sure Kurt didn't last either.
"Touch yourself," he growled into Kurt's ear, licking a line of sweat of his pale neck. "Jerk yourself off while I'm fucking you."
Kurt whimpered and obeyed, still grasping one of Puck's arms as though it was all that was keeping him from losing his mind. He moaned at his hand's contact with his leaking cock, jerking it gently and erratically as Puck continued his thrusts. Puck groaned when Kurt's inner walls clenched around him, and his rhythm stuttered.
"I'm so close," Kurt whimpered, his whole body beginning to shake. Puck clenched his teeth and resumed pounding that amazing angle.
"So come, Kurt," his voice was low and husky in Kurt's ear. "Come on, come for me."
Kurt's eyes slid shut and he whimpered. After a few more thrusts his back arched. He almost screamed, a hoarse, frantic sound that went straight to Puck's dick. Come sprayed across both of their chests, covering them. Kurt's bucking was the last straw for Puck, and he gave a few fast, hard thrusts before he came, slumping forward and pressing their come-coated chests together.
The were a few moments of heavy breathing, cooling skin pressed together. Puck pulled out reluctantly, tossing the condom into his bin without looking; he hadn't missed since he was 15. He rolled back next to Kurt so they were lying shoulder to shoulder.
They caught their breath, come and sweat drying on their skin. Puck could feel his muscles twitching all over his body from exertion, and he couldn't feel his fingers or toes. BEST. IDEA. EVER.
"So," Kurt broke the silence, his voice weak and hoarse. Puck looked over at him; he was looking at Puck with bashful eyes. "Um, I don't really have anything to compare it to, so was that...okay?"
Puck blinked, "Okay?"
"Yeah, I mean," Kurt glanced away, still too flushed from the sex for Puck to tell if he was blushing; he sounded like he was blushing. "It was great from my perspective, I mean, it was amazing, but I don't know enough about s-sex to know if it was good or not-"
"It was good," Puck interrupted, brain too fuzzy to take advantage of the unusual break in Kurt's confidence. "It was - wow, it was really good. Like, top 10, which considering how many people I've had sex with and that you were a virgin, that's good."
Kurt smiled a little, "Top 10? That is good. I can live with that."
Puck nodded as vigorously as he had energy for, "Yeah. Maybe even top 5. That was awesome. You're going to be a fire-cracker with practice."
Kurt's smile became slightly proud, "Yeah? That's good to know."
They lapsed into silence again. Kurt laughed suddenly, "Let's leave this part out when Mr Schuester asks us about our creative process, yes?"
Puck grinned, "I don't know. That would be...hilarious."
Kurt giggled, "'But Mr Schuester, we were thinking outside the box!'"
"'We were getting into character for the song!'"
"'Adam Lambert made us do it!'"
"'Yeah, that bitch!'"
Both boys found themselves rolling around the bed, laughing. Puck looked at Kurt curiously, This is a lot less awkward then most after-sex conversation. Kurt's not so bad when you get past the prissiness - wait, when did I start thinking of him as Kurt?
"So!" Kurt sat up and leaned on his hands. Any shyness was gone, replaced by confidence and comfortable sexuality. "I know you said this was one-time casual fun, but can it be, maybe, repeated casual fun? I mean, if we both enjoyed it-"
"Definitely," Puck agreed, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "I can't wait to see what you're like with practice. Hey, I'm going to call for pizza for me and Sarah, want to stay? Maybe we can actually get some work done after dinner."
"We got something done," Kurt protested, looking at his come stained chest with a mixture of curiosity, amusement, and distaste. "But yes, thank you. I'll stay. I'll just text my dad and tell him I'll be home later. Do you have a wash cloth or something?"
"Here," Puck threw him the box of WetWipes he'd already used to clean himself off with. "Keep 'em here for this very reason. What kind of pizza do you like?"
"I'll eat anything, don't worry."
"Okay, cool," Puck pulled on his jeans and grabbed his t-shirt. "I'll be back in five. Bathroom's next door if you need it."
Puck slid out of his room and over to Sarah's. When he stuck his head it she was still colouring, only this time she was colouring her Barbie dolls for some reason.
"Hey, Sar-bear. You want Hawaiian?"
She just nodded, concentrating on the Barbie she was carefully colouring in blue. Puck smiled and went to leave, casually mentioning, "My friend is staying, just so you know."
"Huh?" she looked up at him, wide eyed. "But none of your special friends ever stay."
Puck blinked, still feeling a little slow, "Oh. Yeah. I guess they don't. But he is."
Sarah shrugged and when back to her dolls, "Okay. He's really noisy. What game were you playing?"
"Call of Duty. He was losing."
"Boys are weird."
"I'm going to go order the pizza now, Sar-bear," he shook his head and wandered into the kitchen to make the call. Okay, she was kind of right, none of his casual-fucks stayed to hang out afterwards. But Kurt had been cool about it, not clingy or bored or boring, so why shouldn't he stay? Maybe they could actually legitimately have the 'friends' part of their proposed 'friends-with-benefits' situation. Yeah, that would be...cool. Kurt's voice from down the hall interrupted his planning.
"Puckerman! You left, like, six hickeys on my neck! My dad is going to freak! You are so dead."
Maybe we can be friends if he doesn't kill me first.
As Puck ducked outside with the phone in hand, he caught sight of the shoes he'd kicked off after school. He could hear Kurt ranting through the door, something about his dad and concealer and revenge - revenge with handcuffs. Puck smirked down at his shoelaces; it was all their fault. He should build them a shrine or something.