A/N: This is a fic I wrote for the Chrismukkah Fest over at the Puckurt comm on livejournal. Enjoy!
I. This ex-hookup of mine
"Listen, Porcelain…"Santana purred over the line, making Kurt roll his eyes as he brought his coffee to his lips and hummed to signal that he was indeed listening. He knew that tone of voice, knew exactly where this conversation was going.
"You remember Puck?"
"Should I?" He drawled flatly, gracefully sliding sideways to make way for an elderly lady walking in the opposite direction.
"He's this ex-hookup of mine…"
"Who isn't an ex-hookup of yours?" He replied, eyes travelling across the busy street in hopes of seeing something more interesting than the conversation he was currently having.
"Shut it, prude. Anyway, he's a total sex bomb and apparently he had this huge epiphany and sucks dick now."
"However fascinating that is, I…"
It was the eyes which caught his attention first. They met by mere coincidence; a deep hazel color burying themselves in Kurt's bright pools and after that first second he was unable to look away. A single eyebrow quirked upwards, reaching towards his shaved head and Kurt could feel his steps slowing down. Plump lips stretched and turned into a sly grin while Kurt's mouth ungracefully dropped open. With his cellphone pressed to his ear and his coffee cup against his heavily pounding heart, that annoying organ currently trying to break free from within his ribcage, out through several layers of clothing which shielded him from the rough winter winds. The stranger's pink tongue caressed his lips briefly, a lazy movement, and arousal hit Kurt with the force of an out of control freight train; this burning warmth pooled in his abdomen, spread like wildfire down his thighs and up his torso.
His cheeks heated when the stranger passed him, eyes never wavering from his, a cheeky grin firmly in place. Unable to restrain himself, Kurt turned his head after him, his body giving away a shiver when he noticed how the stranger did so himself. In unison, they broke their gaze and let each other's eyes ravish their bodies and then… the stranger was swallowed by the throng and Kurt stood absolutely still where he had been left.
"…urt? Kurt! KURT!"
A breath he had not been aware of holding escaped him and he deflated visibly.
"You know your cock can fall off if you don't use it, right?"
Kurt rolled his eyes so hard it physically hurt him.
"Yes, of course," he answered her dryly, slowly coming into motion again.
"So, whaddaya say?"
"What do I say about what?"
"Puck, you idiot. Wanna give him a ride? I swear, he gives the best oral…"
"Santana, first of all… Ew. As much as I enjoy listening to your sexual endeavors, that really is TMI. Secondly… No offence, but I'm not interested in your leftovers."
"You're missing out, lady. He's the finest piece of ass you'll ever see. Seriously, I'm not even kidding. You just want to pinch those cheeks. And eat whipped cream from them."
"Sorry, I need to hang up now…"
"Kurt, one day you'll regret how awfully PG-13 your life is and…"
Whatever deep, primal need that the handsome stranger had evoked had now been brutally squashed by Santana's words. Kurt sighed softly, pocketed his cellphone and brought his coffee cup back to his lips as he walked the last block home.
II. You're doing it again
Puck's cheeks were sort of sore from grinning like a fool all the way back to the dorms. There was just something about seeing a really attractive person that did stuff to him, you know? Especially if that really attractive person totally undressed him with his eyes. He pushed his door open, his eyes giving his roommate a quick once-over. The overly-tall Finn Hudson laid upon his bed with a book on musical theory in his hands, his face crumpled up in a frown of concentration.
"Hi," Finn blinked and lowered the book, as if he had not even noticed him come through the door. "You bring any food?"
"Damn. I'm starving."
"Musical theory does that to you, man."
"Uh, yeah. No mercy whatsoever."
Puck dumped his bag next to his desk and shrugged out of his jacket. That tingling desire was still itching beneath his skin and without him even noticing, the smile was back in place.
"Dude… what are you grinning about?" Finn asked curiously.
"Nothing, I swear. Can't a guy just be happy?"
Finn shrugged and turned back to his book.
"Yeah, I guess. Wanna order in?"
The attractive young man from earlier lingered in Puck's mind while he tried to occupy himself with homework until the pizzas arrived. Those piercing eyes, the pink lips, porcelain skin hiding beneath an uncountable number of layers… Yeah, he definitely stored away that memory in the wank box.
"Dude, you're doing it again," Finn commented suddenly around a mouthful of pepperoni pizza, causing Puck to blink in confusion.
"Grinning. Like a fool. You're doing it."
"No, I'm not."
"Uh, yeah you are."
"No. Wanna tell me what got you so happy?"
Puck contemplated shrugging it off again, but Finn was pretty much a dog: not only in the way he devoured pizza, or how he tilted his head when confused, but in the sense that if he caught a whiff of something, he rarely let it go.
And Puck trusted Finn. They had only been rooming for a month or so, but he had proven to be a pretty solid guy in that time. This was just another part of Puck that he needed to get used to, just like the Super Mario obsession and the loitering around in Star Wars undies, so Puck went for it.
"Just this hot guy checking me out on the way home."
"Oh yeah? Did you get his number?"
"No, I… what?"
Finn raised his eyebrows, looking as confused as Puck felt. That was not the reaction he had expected.
"Did you get his number?"
"You're cool with this?" Puck replied, ignoring his question.
"With what?" Finn dog-tilted his head to the side.
"Uhm… me. Looking at dudes. Liking dudes."
"Yeah? Shouldn't I be?"
"Well, yeah, but…"
Finn chose another slice of pizza and shrugged slightly.
"My stepbrother is gay. We lived with each other for two years before college. Guess he sorta rubbed off on me. Not in thatway, but, like… opinions and stuff."
"So you're bi, right? All that talk about 'the ladies', I mean…"
"Uh, yeah, that was real. I mean, I'm bi. Equal opportunity and all that."
"That's cool. As long as you don't steal my girlfriends."
Finn grinned and Puck could not help but grin back.
"Wouldn't dream of it, dude."
Silence fell for a couple of minutes, while they ate the rest of the pizzas. Finn stole whatever he could from Puck's once his was finished, ignoring the muffled sounds of protest and the lazy pushes. It felt as if a weight had been lifted from Puck's chest. It was nice.
"So, my stepbrother," Finn began. "I bet you'd like him. He's kinda pretty, I guess, for a dude, y'know?"
"Hmm… Lemme guess, he's single?"
"Are you trying to set me up?"
III. Sliding doors
"Oh, hold the door!"
Kurt rarely ran. Mostly because he detested a lot of physically straining activities (dancing and sex were amongst the exceptions), but also because of the natural side-effects of such activities: heavy breathing and sweating. Though, when it came to missing the subway train when he was already late to Santana and Brittany, he ran. He could always use their bathroom for freshening up. He received a few curses and more than a few glares when he pushed himself through the crowd. To his great relief, a hand had shot out to hold the door open for him.
The train was crammed, but he fit snugly into the small space right on the other side of the door, which closed swiftly behind him. He adjusted his satchel on his shoulder and looked up to thank whoever had come to his aid when the train came into motion.
Kurt remembered those eyes.
He remembered those eyes attached to that face.
It was Hot Stranger from the other day. Kurt felt his cheeks heat with the state he was in, practically panting in Hot Stranger's face with sweaty armpits. He both blessed and cursed his thick coat and woolen scarf. Clearing his throat, he finally managed a slight smile.
"Thanks," he said. "For holding the door."
Hot Stranger's eyebrow quirked upwards the way it had done the other day and a grin overcame his face. It lit up his eyes with a (ridiculously attractive) mischievous glint.
"No problem," he replied and the corners of Kurt's mouth twitched with a smile of its own. "Missing the train is a bitch."
"It really is," Kurt concurred softly.
He averted his gaze to watch the darkness outside the window. He was going for the nonchalant, I-have-boys-falling-all-over-me-all-the-time-so-you're-really-not-that-big-of-a-deal kind of vibe, but he was pretty sure that it failed miserably with the way he kept stealing glances. Judging by Hot Stranger's still solid grin, he saw straight through his bluff.
Would it be awfully blunt of him to introduce himself? He could practically hear Santana's voice telling him that yes it would, but he better do it anyway because that hot piece of ass would not fuck itself. Oh god, his mind really had been contaminated by her wicked ways.
What if he had misjudged this situation entirely? What if it was not mutual attraction? What if any attempt of getting… friendly would earn him a beating?
"Excuse me, sir…"
Kurt blinked. He had been so consumed by his own thoughts that he had not noticed the train slowing down and stopping at the next station. An annoyed looking man in his forties stood tapping his foot right next to him.
"I'm getting off here, do you mind?"
Icy indifference slipped easily onto his face as he stepped aside, giving the guy a glare as he hurried off. Several accompanied him, but the space was quickly filled once again. The doors closed and a chuckle reverberated through Hot Stranger's chest and throat. It made a jolt of pleasure surge through Kurt's body and he looked up to seek out his amused eyes. Hazel.
"I'm surprised he didn't freeze to death," Hot Stranger said, surprising a laugh out of Kurt. "How long did it take you to perfect that?"
"Oh, a couple of years. Though there is always room for improvement."
"It's just an on-going process."
They shared a look and Kurt had to bite down on his lower lip so he would not dissolve into giggles.
They stood closer than before the stop. Kurt had not even noticed how he had gravitated towards him, how they held onto the same pole to keep their balance. He could feel Hot Stranger's warmth, and if he turned his head, he would feel his moist breath against his cheek. Hot Stranger's eyes lingered on him, as if assessing him, before reaching his free hand towards him.
The proximity between them really was too prominent to make a real handshake out of it all, but Kurt was pretty sure that Hot Stranger, no, Noahknew that and just did not give a fuck. Kurt raised his hand and so what if he did make a show out of pulling his glove off every finger? Sue him. The feeling of taking Noah's bare hand in his own, to feel his hot skin was totally worth it.
"You're kinda hot," Noah admitted, drenched in cocky bravado and the smuggest smirk he ever had laid eyes on.
Two could play that game.
"I know," Kurt replied, fully aware of how their hands still held onto each other between their chests. "You don't look too bad yourself."
"I know," Noah parroted, licked his lips, drawing the attention of Kurt's eyes.
"Next stop is mine."
"Can I have my hand back?"
Their hands dropped and he put on his glove again, right in time for the doors to open once more. Noah swayed forwards slightly, that glint of mischief still visible. Kurt held his breath.
"See you around, Kurt."
"You wish," he replied teasingly.
"Yeah, I do."
Kurt turned around and walked off the train before Noah could notice the ridiculous grin he was sporting. When he reached the street and cold air embraced him, he still felt warmth lingering around him. His cheeks hurt from smiling too hard.
IV. Grande Non-Fat Mocha
The New Directions Café lay right between campus and home, so Puck passed it pretty much every day, but he had never actually gone in. He knew that Finn sometimes took his midget girlfriend there for dates, since they apparently knew someone who worked there. It looked like a decent enough place, however, not really Puck's scene.
Or, at least it was not his kind of place until he spotted one sexy-ass Kurt while walking home in the evening. He stood behind the counter, a polite smile in place as he served a red-headed lady a cup of coffee, apron and all. This was just too good to be true.
The door chimed when he stepped through it, but the café was busy enough that he went in unnoticed. There was a small line in front of the counter and while he waited for his turn, he unbuttoned his winter coat to feel the heat of the room slowly engulf his chilly skin.
Kurt was a fast and professional worker. His soft sing-song voice was audible over the murmurs of the customers, Journeydrifting from the jukebox in the corner, and the occasional laughter filling the comfortable atmosphere of the café. By the time he reached the counter, his body was tingling with excitement and desire.
"So, what's any good here?"
Kurt's eyes widened comically at the sight of him, though he recovered quickly. There was a vague blush covering his pale cheeks. Puck's fingers twitched at the prospect of being able to touch. He shoved them into the pockets of his coat, hoping that they could behave.
"Are you hungry or just looking for something to drink?" Kurt replied in the same tone of voice which he had used with his other customers. However, Puck spotted a dimple in his cheek and knew that a different kind of smile was not far away.
"A hot drink sounds good. What would you recommend?"
"If I were you, I'd choose the grande non-fat mocha."
"That's your favorite?"
"Then I'll take two. One for me and one for you."
"For me?" Kurt's eyebrows shot towards his hairline, eyes sparkling with something Puck could not quite put his finger on.
"Yeah. For when you join me."
"I'm working!" Kurt exclaimed, eyes wide and lips parted with surprised amusement.
"So?" Puck grinned.
"So I can't exactly sit down for a chat! Now, do you mind? There's a line!"
Kurt made a grand gesture to the growing line of customers behind Puck. Puck simply leaned further across the counter and raised a seductive eyebrow.
"Fine. When do you get off work?"
"In two hours."
"Cool. I'll just sit in the corner and make you all hot and bothered with my seductive gaze," Puck shrugged.
"Make me uncomfortable while you're staring creepily, you mean," Kurt insisted, but he was losing the battle against his smile, so things did not look so bad for Puck after all.
"Kurt, you really should focus on your job. Can't you see there's a line?"
Kurt gave him a glare which lacked heat and carried on with Puck's order. He worked quickly and seemingly effortlessly and Puck enjoyed the movements of his hands far too much. They looked skilled and he could easily let his mind wander with that information.
"There," Kurt said and pushed a cup across the counter towards him. "Onegrande non-fat mocha. That will be $4.30, thank you."
Puck fished his wallet out of his pocket and paid with the most charming smile he could muster.
"No, thank you," he said and with a wink, he took his coffee and backed away towards a seat in the corner. "I'll be over here, eye-sexing you."
Kurt snorted loudly and Puck could not help his laughter.
Noah had not even reached a table before the vultures surrounded Kurt. He adopted an innocent look and looked at his two co-workers, Tina and Mercedes, with mock surprise.
"Kurt. Is there something you would like to tell us?" Mercedes said in an overly sweet tone, which never evermeant any good.
"Tell you? I don't think so," he replied airily while taking care of the next customer's order.
"Really?" Tina interjected with disbelief. "Because…"
"Cut the crap, Kurt. Who's the hottie?"
"The one currently undressing you with his eyes from the corner over there."
Kurt threw a glance over his shoulder, immediately spotting Noah who licked his lips and gave him an exaggerated wink. He rolled his eyes at both the other man and himself, due to the lame butterflies currently residing in his stomach.
"Oh, you mean Noah?"
"Noah, is it?"
"And how did you two meet?"
"We shared a subway ride. Nothing happened."
"Nothing happened, he says!" Mercedes exclaimed loudly, earning herself a glare. "Boy, that man is fiiine."
"And I'm pretty sure he wants to sleep with you," Tina mused, handing back change to an elderly customer whose eyes grew wide at her words.
"You think? Course he wants into those gorgeous no doubt ridiculously expensive pants. Where did you get those anyway?"
"I'll send you a link when I get home, sweetie."
"You better, they're divine! And your ass, hot damn!"
"I know, right?" Kurt twirled to show his assets (awful pun intended), a smile spreading on his face again.
"We're not the only ones admiring your ass, Kurt," Tina giggled with a less than subtle gesture towards a certain man still sitting in the corner.
Mercedes forgot all about the pants and levelled him with a stern glare.
"He's practically drooling. When was the last time you got a little something-something anyway?"
"Why is everyone so concerned about me getting laid anyway?" Kurt groaned. "Don't you have your own love lives to worry about?"
"I have nothing to worry about," Tina smiled sweetly. "Mike is perfect."
"Boo, why aren't you over there already?"
"I'm working," Kurt repeated, and really? Did he have to explain that to his co-workers as well? "I have an obligation to keep working if I want to get paid. You know, money, kind of important?"
"We'll cover for you! Schue won't know a thing."
"I can't do that. Besides... I told Noah that I'm working for two more hours. He said he would wait."
"Ooooh," a grin spread across Mercedes' face. "Testing him already, are we? Babe, I like the way you think."
VI. Screw PG-13
Noah kept his word. He stayed put in the corner for two hours, making an exception for a toilet visit and to buy a refill, which Mercedes handled (with a giggling Tina beside her), because Noah kept staring right over their shoulders to watch Kurt.
Kurt supposed that he should feel creeped out, because that was exactly what Noah did during those two hours: watch Kurt. He could feel Noah's eyes upon him, following his every move, but instead of feeling uncomfortable like he had suggested earlier, his cheeks were hot from the attention. That tingling sensation that Noah had given him that day on the street had returned, an itch beneath his skin in desperate need of scratching.
Mercedes was right, wasn't she? Just like Santana. His dick really was going to fall off if he did not get busy. Kurt's eyes wandered to Noah, who was taking a sip of his refill. He was attractive enough, that was for sure. Charming too, if he could just drop the overly cocky smugness that he probably thought was sexy. Because it wasn't. At all. Just a little bit.
Oh well. Time was up. He needed to at least talk to him... after he had grabbed his coat. He snuck into the back room through the kitchen, stealing one of the freshly baked chocolate chip cookies on his way. He tried to keep the nervousness at bay, but it was difficult when he had buttoned up his coat, put his scarf around his neck and slung his bag over his shoulder, because it meant that he had to walk over to the table in the corner.
For fuck's sake. Man up, Hummel. With forced determination, he stepped out into the shop again and gave both Mercedes and Tina a kiss on the cheek.
"Ladies, I'm off. See you on Monday, okay?"
"Go get him, tiger!"
Tina gave him the last push in Noah's direction, an actual physical push, and he made his way towards him with an increasingly speeding heartbeat.
"So," he began, trying hard not to be affected by Noah's growing smile. "Did you enjoy your grande non-fat mocha?"
He shifted his weight from foot to foot, readjusted his bag on his shoulder and met Noah's eyes again. Oh, screw PG-13.
"Want to get out of here?"
Noah was out of his seat and putting on his jacket in record time.
"Your place or mine?" Kurt blurted out and he received a grin in reply.
"Mine is pretty close."
"In a hurry?" He teased.
Then he promptly grabbed Kurt by the hand, accompanied by the excited yells of encouragement from the two girls behind the counter, and steered them towards the door. With his free hand he raised a victory fist into the air. Mercedes' and Tina's squeals were cut short when the door swung shut behind them.
VII. Smiles, hands, and conditions
It started raining on their way to Puck's place, a soft drizzle that without doubt would escalate to a steady downpour soon. Kurt looked up at the grey sky and crinkled his nose, but said nothing. Kurt's hand was warm, almost a bit clammy in his. Puck figured that Kurt was nervous. So was he. He squeezed his hand with fake confidence. There was a moment's hesitation and then Kurt squeezed back. Warmth spread throughout Puck's entire body and his smile matched Kurt's.
As Puck had predicted, the drizzle developed into a heavy rain before they had reached his place and they had to run the last fifty yards. The soles of their shoes squelched against the concrete, water splashed up upon their legs, and Puck thought he heard a muttered curse from Kurt, but he could have imagined it. When they almost ran past the right door, he pulled Kurt to him, standing where the rain could not reach them. Kurt leaned against his body, his eyes wide and bright and he wanted to kiss him, he was going to kiss him...
Kurt inhaled hesitantly.
"I... I have a few conditions," he said matter-of-factly, his eyes not wavering from Puck's lips.
"I don't do things half-heartedly. I don't do one night stands. I usually don't sleep with people before actually getting to know them, but I figured that we might want to try this the other way around. Fuck first, be polite later, yes?"
"Good. So, we're going to go upstairs and have... sexual relations and we're going to enjoy it and in the morning, because yes, I will be staying the night, you won't kick me out. Then we'll have breakfast and talk. Do we have a deal?"
Puck must admit that he was impressed. Also more than a little turned on. He could do nothing but nod.
"We've got a deal."
Kurt exhaled and wrapped his arms around Puck's neck. The hand he had not been holding was cold against his cheek, the same with the fingers pressing against his scalp. Puck leaned forwards and brought his arms around Kurt's slender waist, pulling him closer. He nudged his nose with his and the last thing he saw before kissing him was Kurt's smile.
It was a hassle getting up the stairs, what with the constant lip-lock and hands holding onto everything and anything they could find. Puck fumbled with the keys, the tips of his fingers wet and numb from the walk, and Kurt groaned in needy frustration more than one time when he had to pull away to get the key into the lock. They stumbled across the threshold in a mess of wet clothes and entangled limbs.
Puck struggled with the buttons of Kurt's coat until Kurt slapped away his hands and did it himself, leaving Puck to get out of his own clothes, which he dumped on the floor. He was quicker than Kurt, who to his defense probably wore a lot more complicated layers than Puck.
There was a moment then, when Puck laid bare upon the sheets, waiting and watching, and Kurt looked up. His eyes roamed over him in silence and the rush went out of them both. Kurt unbuttoned his pants and underwear, let them drop to the floor before he climbed on top of the bed, on top of Puck's body and placed his chilly hands on his chest. He put his arms around him, pressed him tightly to him when he rolled them over and pulled the duvet over their naked bodies. He stroked wet strands of hair from Kurt's forehead and kissed him again.
IX. Good morning
It was still raining when Puck woke up the following morning. A heavy downfall thundering against the windows, the room grey with the cold lights from the outside world. His eyelids were heavy, his muscles stiff and movements slow. It was warm beneath the duvet.
Kurt was on his stomach and had his face buried in the crook of Puck's neck. His damp, peaceful breaths stroked his skin. The corners of Puck's mouth twitched. Warmth grew in his chest as he moved—carefully, so he would not wake him immediately—and he placed a gentle kiss upon his pale shoulder. Kurt did not react, so he did it again. And again.
Puck used his right elbow to prop himself up as he brushed his slightly parted lips to Kurt's naked skin, along his spine. The duvet made little to no sound when he gently pushed it downwards, trailing its touch with his open mouth. Down, down, down, to his perfectly rounded butt. Kurt shifted slightly when Puck pressed his cheeks apart and brought his lips to his entrance, but did not wake until he used his tongue. He caught a glimpse of eyes dark with arousal before the room filled with moans, sighs and desperate pleas.
Kurt's fingers gripped the sheets, his voice muffled by the pillow and his hips moved in a slow circles against the mattress, trying to gain friction. Puck pressed his tongue inside of him and reached for his hardness, stroking him, squeezing, running his thumb over the head...
Then it was only Kurt's harsh breaths and the smattering rain against the windows, the cold light and Puck grinned.
Kurt's out of breath laughter brightened the room.
They had fallen asleep again, Kurt enveloped by Noah's large arms, listening to his light snoring that he actually did not really mind. Though, by the time he woke up, it was silent in the apartment. It was still warm beneath the duvet, but Noah was nowhere to be seen. Kurt rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and called out his name hoarsely. There was no reply.
Kurt was startled by a sudden sharp noise coming from the floor, a melody he soon recognized as his ringtone.
"Fuck," he hissed as he practically rolled out of bed, wrapped in the duvet, and went cellphone searching through his pants, shirts and coat. He finally found the vibrating device in his inner coat pocket and pressed it to his ear.
"Well, hello Porcelain," Santana drawled. "How nice of you to pick up your phone."
"What?" He groaned, pulling a hand through his hair. She sounded annoyed.
"I'm pretty sure that we had a date this morning, Hummel, and I'm not used to being stood up."
"I'm so sorry, Santana!"
"You better grovel, bitch.
A key turned in the lock and Kurt looked up in time for the door to be pushed open, expecting to see Noah coming back. Instead there stood an abnormally tall man in the door opening that Kurt knew far too well, tilting his head to the side in confusion.
"Kurt, what are you doing here? Are you naked?"
"No! I'm wearing a duvet."
"You fucked Puck? Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't fuck Puck! I don't even know who Puck is!"
"Dude, he told me he wasn't interested in you!"
"Excuse me, but who the hell is Puck?"
"My roommate! The guy whose duvet you're wearing!"
"You have a roommate?"
"Yeah, I told you, didn't I?"
"No, you didn't!"
"Frankenteen is rooming with Puck?
"Sorry, Kurt, I was going to tell you."
"Santana, who's Puck?"
"Don't you remember? I told you about him like, last week or something. My ex with the crazy tongue skills and sexy ass?"
"How did you meet Puck?" Finn asked, still standing in the door opening.
"I'm sorry, I came here with Noah, not Puck."
"Noah is Puck's name, dude. Noah Puckerman?"
"You didn't even know his entire name before you fucked?"
He blinked again.
"Slutty, Porcelain! I approve."
Then Noah appeared in the door opening, holding a grocery bag in his right hand and an umbrella in the other. He stopped dead at the sight of Kurt on the floor and Finn staring at him.
"Is that him?"
Then everyone spoke at once.
"Dude, you fucked my brother!"
"You're Santana's ex?"
"This is soo good."
A/N2: If you've got time, please leave a review and let me know what you think.
Hugs and kisses,