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carolinecraneTitle: to make much of time
Fandom: Glee
Characters: Kurt/Puck
Rating: NC17
Summary: Puck just wants to make sure they use their time wisely. 3900 words.
Series: Down Is Where We Came From
A/N: A/N: I had this whole tl;dr speech here about topping and dynamics but then I just started to get kind of pissed about the fact that top!Kurt even needs an explanation. So you know, this is just more porn. Take or leave. (After this I will get back to the 'plot', such as it is. No, really.)
A/N 2:AO3 is down for awhile! I will add a link to the archive when it comes back up. I am hopeful they're upgrading in preparation for Yuletide. Yuuuuuletiiiiiiide. Didn't I say I wasn't signing up this year? I can't wait.
What do you know, it's back up. AO3 link here.
Puck wakes up face down on the hotel bed. The seriously trashed hotel bed, with sheets that are softer than the ones at his mom’s house, but not even close to what Kurt’s got on his -- their -- bed back home.
The top sheet’s been missing for awhile; Puck figures it’s wrapped up in the bedspread that got kicked off the bed at some point yesterday. And it’s not like they haven’t left the room, because Kurt packed food, yeah, but not enough to get them through two whole days. But they keep the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door even when they’re out, mostly because Kurt doesn’t think it’s fair to make some poor, unsuspecting housekeeper clean up their mess twice.
Puck figures they’ve probably seen a lot worse, but he doesn’t argue, because arguing with Kurt just means less time they can spend fucking, and he’s making up for lost time here.
He flexes experimentally, hissing at the pleasant ache in...yeah, pretty much every part of his body. He can’t remember ever having this much sex in a two day period. He didn’t even have this much sex on prom night, which, granted, he didn’t actually go to prom, but if he had it would have been with Santana or some other chick, and not even Santana would have been up for a sex marathon like this one.
Maybe if he’d taken Kurt to prom. Puck grins at the thought and stretches again, turns his head on the mattress -- and there used to be pillows on this bed, didn’t there? -- to find Kurt wide awake, propped up on an elbow and watching him.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” Kurt echoes, then he smiles and reaches out to run his left hand down Puck’s back. Puck feels the cool glide of metal against his skin and presses his thumb against his own ring, turning the metal on his finger and shifting into Kurt’s touch.
“Isn’t this the hotel where they had the prom?”
“That’s how I knew the rooms were at least bearable.” Kurt’s frowning at him, but it’s not one of his ‘I hate it when you bring up traumatic high school shit’ frowns. This one’s thoughtful, like he’s trying to remember something and he can’t quite get there. “Were you at prom?”
“Not exactly my scene,” Puck answers. “Wait, did you just say you got a room on prom night?”
Kurt smirks at him then, and Puck would push up off the mattress and wipe the smug look off his face if he wasn’t digging what Kurt’s doing with his fingers so much.
“Well, I voted to blow it off and drive into Chicago for a weekend of live theater and decent shopping, but I was outvoted. Mercedes and Tina seemed to think that not attending prom would somehow impact their emotional development; I think they binged on multiple viewings of Pretty In Pink right before tickets went on sale. Artie did whatever Tina told him to once she finally took him back, so he was no help at all, which means that yes, I attended the McKinley High Senior Prom. It was just as tragic as you’d expect, and afterwards Tina and Mercedes got drunk on Peach Schnapps and both of them threw up in the bathtub.”
Puck laughs and tries not to picture it, because yeah, that’s way worse than what he and Kurt are leaving for the housekeeping crew to deal with.
“So no kinky four-way, then? You didn’t introduce my man Artie to the joys of a little guy-on-guy action?”
“Some people are actually heterosexual, you know,” Kurt says, which isn’t really an answer.
But his hand’s still moving, palm flat against the small of Puck’s back and he closes his eyes and grins as Kurt’s fingers skim across the top of his ass. In the past two days they’ve fucked in just about every way Puck could think of, along with a couple Kurt came up with all on his own. They’ve done it in the shower and on the floor, in front of the bathroom mirror and in the room’s only chair. He’s even spread Kurt across the table once or twice, and that’s without even counting all the ways they’ve violated the bed.
They’ve talked, too, not even about anything important. They’ve slept some, mostly when they were both so worn out they couldn’t keep their eyes open, watched some cheesy yet weirdly romantic porn about guys waking each other up by sticking their tongues in interesting places, and most of all, they’ve just hung out together, just the two of them, without any distractions.
Which, okay, they could have stayed in L.A. and done the same thing, but back there they’ve got jobs and school and friends and responsibilities and shit, and the only way Kurt would ever spend the money on a hotel room is to get away from his family. So this is a big deal, and Puck knows it’s the kind of thing that’s probably not going to happen again for awhile. Not until their honeymoon, he figures, and he hasn’t exactly worked out how they’re going to swing a trip to New York and a honeymoon suite, but he figures they’ve got some time to work it out.
“Babe,” he says, his voice catching a little as Kurt’s fingers dip into the crease of his ass. “When do you want to get married?”
“To be honest, I hadn’t really thought about it. I mean, I did just find out that I’ve been engaged for three months.”
Puck opens his eyes to take in Kurt’s smile, fond but sort of amused, and yeah, Kurt’s making fun of him, but he doesn’t really care. “It’s not my fault you’re a little slow on the uptake, Hummel.”
Kurt’s hand flattens against his ass, then he swats Puck’s right cheek with his open palm. It’s sharp and it stings a little, an Puck barks out a surprised laugh and turns onto his side to slide an arm around Kurt’s waist and drag him close.
“Did you just spank me?”
“I didn’t do anything you didn’t deserve,” Kurt answers, but he leans in to press a kiss on Puck’s cheek, then another one at the corner of his mouth. “Couldn’t we just enjoy our engagement for awhile?”
His hand’s on Puck’s ass again, palm pressing against the spot where Puck’s sure his skin is kind of red. Then he slides his fingers between Puck’s cheeks again, spreading him open and sliding steadily down.
“Whatever...whatever you want,” Puck says, pushing the words out from between gritted teeth as Kurt’s fingers dip lower to press against his hole. And granted, he’s topped more times than Kurt in the last two days, but Puck doesn’t bottom nearly as often as Kurt does at home either, so he’s not surprised that he’s a little sensitive.
“Too much?” Kurt asks, but instead of pulling away he presses down a little more firmly and opens his mouth on the side of Puck’s neck.
“Only if you’re about to tell me we don’t have time for one more round,” Puck answers, then he pushes back into Kurt’s hand until Kurt takes the hint and slides a finger inside.
And they don’t, really, have the time, that is, because check-out’s at like eleven, and there’s no way Kurt’s going home smelling like sex and Puck. Not that everybody in their families doesn’t know what they’ve been doing for two days straight, but they probably don’t need to rub anybody’s face in it.
But this whole thing was Kurt’s idea, which means he’s the one in charge of watching the clock, so when he doesn’t pull away and say that Puck’s right and they should probably get going, Puck decides not to worry about it. Instead he focuses on the finger pumping in and out of him, keeping up a slow, steady rhythm as Kurt’s mouth moves on his neck, then back down his shoulder to scrape his teeth along Puck’s bicep.
It’s kind of a weird angle, and the shallow thrusts of Kurt’s finger are doing more to drive Puck crazy than give him any kind of relief. He doesn’t want to stop even long enough to find a better position, but he wants more, too, so finally he lets out a frustrated growl and pulls away from Kurt to roll onto his back. He bends his knees and tilts his hips up while Kurt feels around for the lube, then he kneels between Puck’s thighs and pours a little on his fingers.
A second later his hand’s back, two fingers pushing into Puck this time and when Kurt leans over to kiss him, Puck’s hand wraps around his bicep to hold on as he rocks up into Kurt’s touch.
They’ve both come enough times by now that Puck’s pretty sure he doesn’t have anything left to give, but he’s hard anyway, pushing up to search for some friction and coming up empty, because Kurt’s too far away. He’s still kissing Puck, tongue keeping time with his fingers where they’re sliding in and out of him, but Kurt’s not touching him anywhere else.
“Babe,” Puck says, hand tightening on Kurt’s bicep and he reaches between them to catch Kurt’s other wrist where he’s still working Puck open, “just fuck me already. I’m good.”
“And modest,” Kurt says, but Puck doesn’t even get a chance to laugh at his lame joke before Kurt’s lubing up his cock and pushing Puck’s legs apart. He draws them up to tilt his hips up a little more, and Kurt catches one calf and slides Puck’ leg over his shoulder before he lines himself up and pushes inside.
Puck lets out a groan and closes his eyes, flexes around Kurt until he’s as deep as he can get. And it feels fucking fantastic, then Kurt starts moving and it feels even better. He catches Puck’s other leg and ducks his shoulder under it until Puck’s spread wide, both knees hooked over Kurt’s shoulders and he’s fucking bent in half, hands around Kurt’s arms and pushing up into every thrust.
Kurt leans in, dick sliding almost all the way out, until just the head’s still inside, then he kisses Puck. Puck kisses him back, hard, one hand leaving his arm to cradle the back of Kurt’s skull. Then Kurt pulls back and sinks back into him, pushing in slow and then all the way back out again to slam into Puck as deep as he can get.
“Fuck,” Puck grinds out, clenching hard around Kurt to drag him even further inside. “Goddamn, babe, do that again.”
And Kurt obliges, because he can be a giving kind of guy when he wants. And he wants this, wants Puck so bad he probably hasn’t even noticed that if they don’t get a move on they’re going to get charged for another day. Not that Puck would put up a fight about staying, but Burt’s expecting them, and he knows they can’t stay here forever.
But they get to do this forever, over and over and Puck grins and snaps his hips up to meet Kurt’s next thrust. Kurt moans at the sensation and Puck feels Kurt’s arms tremble on either side of him. And he figures Kurt’s probably at least as sore as he is, that his muscles have just about reached the breaking point by now.
He shifts under Kurt, turning a little and Kurt takes the hint and lets Puck’s legs slide off his shoulders. He’s still buried inside Puck when Puck turns on his side and pulls his top leg up, holding himself open as Kurt settles on his side and rests a hand on Puck’s hip while he slides in and out of him. It’s slower this way, not quite as deep, but Kurt’s hitting that spot inside him that sets off sparks behind his eyes, and Puck moans with each upstroke and tightens around Kurt until they’re both breathing fast and rocking together.
“Come inside me, babe,” Puck says, hand coming up to cover the one riding low on his hip. Their fingers thread together, Kurt’s ring pressed against his and Puck knows how cheesy it is, he does, but it makes his heart thud even harder against his chest. “I want to feel you leaking out of me when we’re back at your dad’s place.”
Kurt grunts and thrusts a little harder, fingers tightening around Puck’s and okay, so maybe he already knows they’re not going to have time to get cleaned up before they have to check out, because he’s not putting up a fight about going back to his dad’s place with his come still inside Puck.
And that’s just fine with Puck, because he likes smelling like Kurt.
He still hasn’t touched himself, ignoring the ache that’s building into something almost painful, because he wants to last as long as he can. But Kurt’s breathing hard against the back of his neck, mouthing at his skin and biting down on Puck’s shoulder and finally his hand leaves Puck’s hip to reach around and grip his cock.
Puck hisses at the contact and pushes back against Kurt, one hand reaching back to grip Kurt’s hip and pull him forward while the other closes around Kurt’s hand where it’s holding his dick and tightening their fingers to fist himself hard. He’s rocking between their combined fists and Kurt’s cock, chest heaving with the effort to breathe and when Kurt’s thumb slides across the tip of his cock at the same moment he bites down on Puck’s shoulder, Puck grunts and comes on their fingers.
There’s barely even any mess to worry about, because they’re both pretty empty by now, and Puck lets out a weak laugh and lets Kurt roll him onto his stomach and slide back inside him. Kurt’s stretched out across his back, mouth open on Puck’s skin at the base of his neck and sucking hard enough to leave a mark. It’s probably going to show above his shirt, even, as long as he avoids anything with a collar for awhile, and that’s something Puck can definitely do.
He lets out another chuckle and pushes back into Kurt, bends one leg and pulls it up a little to get Kurt a little deeper. He’s moving faster and faster, making these little noises in the back of his throat that tell Puck just how close he is, and Puck can’t see him or anything, but he knows Kurt’s flushed with the effort of fucking Puck so thoroughly he’ll feel it every time he sits down until they get back to L.A.
Something else that’s totally fine with Puck, and he moans and clenches around Kurt when the head of Kurt’s cock pushes up against his prostate. Kurt lets out a moan of his own and pulls out, then slams back into Puck even harder, his cock bumping up against that spot over and over and Puck’s already spent and way too sensitive and he’s pretty sure he’s going to die before Kurt finally lets up.
Kurt’s talking, murmuring words into his neck and Puck can barely make them out, but he knows what Kurt’s saying anyway. He hears Noah, whispered like a prayer, then Noah, ground out between gritted teeth and fucking filthy, hears beautiful and so tight and then mine, and that’s the one that gets him. The one that makes him push up onto one elbow and close his hand around Kurt’s where it’s pressed against the mattress, to turn his head and look back and say, “Yeah, baby, I’m all yours.”
Just for a second their eyes lock, and Kurt looks so surprised, like maybe he doesn’t even know he’s talking until Puck answers him. Then he slams forward until he’s buried balls-deep, eyes closed and Puck clenching around him as he comes.
Puck waits until he stops shaking and relaxes, slumped against Puck’s back and pressing his forehead against sweat-slick skin. Then he turns under Kurt, letting him slip out of Puck and it burns a little, yeah, but it’s good, it’s perfect, because it means he’ll be able to feel Kurt later on, when they’re sleeping in Kurt’s bed in his dad’s house and Kurt won’t put out again.
Though they could probably use a break, considering, Puck thinks, grinning and maneuvering onto his back to wrap his arms around Kurt. He presses chaste kisses to Kurt’s forehead, then his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, kisses that spot between his nose and his lip, too, just for good measure. Kurt sighs and turns his mouth up for a real kiss, and Puck smiles against him and obliges.
It would be easy to fall asleep again. Just pass out with their mouths still pressed together, breathing each other’s air and pretending the rest of the world doesn’t even exist. But it’s almost checkout time, and Puck knows Kurt will be pissed if they don’t get out of here on time.
He brushes his lips across Kurt’s forehead again, pushes damp hair away from his sweaty skin and grins at the picture Kurt makes with his hair kind of sticking up all over like...well, like he’s spent the past two days being thoroughly fucked on every surface of the room.
He’s going to bitch about it all the way home, and when they get back to Burt’s place he’ll probably head straight for the shower. And that’s fine, because Puck’s pretty spent himself, but he’s not planning to wash the smell of Kurt off him until he has to, so he figures he’ll just crash in Kurt’s bed and let him worry about how he looks.
“Babe,” he says, hands sliding up and down Kurt’s back, “it’s getting late.”
Kurt groans and presses his face into the crook of Puck’s neck for a second, then he shifts and pushes up to look at Puck. “Since when are you the responsible one?”
“Since I know what a bitch you’re going to be if we get stuck paying for an extra night and don’t even get to take advantage of it.”
Kurt rolls his eyes, then he rolls off Puck and sits up. And seriously, the room’s trashed. Like, not rock star trashed, because none of the furniture’s actually broken, and nobody put a foot through the TV or anything. But it’s pretty bad, and even Puck feels a little guilty about how much damage control housekeeping has ahead of them.
“It’ll give them something to talk about,” Puck says, sitting up to slide his arm around Kurt and press a kiss to his shoulder. “Probably make their week, even, talking about the two horny dudes who got come all over the room and didn’t leave a single condom behind. Shit like this probably never happens here.”
Kurt laughs and turns to glance at Puck over his shoulder. “Not everyone thinks two guys together is hot, you know.”
Puck just rolls his eyes and climbs off the bed, then he reaches out to pull Kurt up with him. “We’re hot together, babe. That’s just a fact.”
~
It takes about twenty minutes to pack up their stuff, and Puck’s pretty sure they’ve left at least a couple things behind, but he doesn’t care about a lost pair of boxers or whatever. It’s a small price to pay for the last two days, and if he’d known Kurt would take it this well, Puck would have let him in on the gay wedding plans a long time ago.
He grins as he slides into the driver’s seat, wincing a little at the burn in his ass and sliding the keys into the ignition. Kurt’s pulling his seatbelt on, and he’s not even looking at Puck, but he’s got this dreamy little smile on his face and Puck really wants to lean across the console and kiss him.
Instead he pulls around to the front of the hotel, slides the car into park, and opens the door. “Don’t go anywhere.”
Kurt just grins and lets Puck pull the room key out of his hand, then he disappears into the lobby to hand it over. The dude behind the desk gives him a bored look and thanks him for checking out, and Puck grins and doesn’t bother to tell him that the housekeeping staff might want to stock some extra disinfectant for when they hit room 248.
When he slides back into the car Kurt’s still wearing that same dreamy smile, and this time Puck doesn’t stop himself from leaning in and kissing him. Kurt kisses him back, slow and kind of lazy, and Puck grins against his mouth and pulls away to shift the car back into gear.
They’re easing onto the ramp that will take them back to the highway when Kurt breaks the easy silence, leaning back in his seat and watching Puck with a thoughtful little frown.
“Do you really think Schue has feelings for Finn?”
“Are you kidding?” Puck asks, glancing away from the road long enough to see that no, he’s not. “Did you not see them together at dinner?”
“They certainly seem close. And as much as I hate to admit that you were right, I’m fairly sure Finn’s actually in love with Mr. S...Will,” Kurt says, mouth puckering a little around the name, like he’s having a hard time working out how to say it. “He’s ridiculous and sort of annoying, but he is the closest thing I have to a brother. I hate to think I’ve been encouraging this crush of his, only to end with a broken-hearted stepbrother on my hands.”
Puck reaches across the console, holding out his hand until Kurt closes his own around it. He threads their fingers together and rests their hands on the center console, looking away from the road to grin at Kurt.
“Look, babe, first of all, whether or not some asshole stomps all over Hudson’s heart isn’t your fault. But we’re talking about Schue here. We both know Schue’s not an asshole. And anyway, he was talking like Finn hung the goddamn moon the other night. Didn’t you hear him? All, ‘Finn’s perfect for the role of Perchik, but his real talents lie behind the scenes’ or whatever. If that’s not a euphemism for gay sex, I’ve never heard one.”
Kurt laughs, but Puck can tell he feels a little better. And yeah, Puck gets that there’s still some tension between Kurt and Finn. He thinks he even gets why, and he’s pretty sure it mostly has to do with Finn sticking around and seeing Burt every day while Kurt’s off living his life a long way from Lima. But it’s sort of cool to see that Kurt gives a damn, especially since Puck’s kind of the one who started the ball rolling with Finn and Mr. Schuester in the first place.
“Tell you what; if they haven’t at least made out by the time we’re ready to leave town, I’ll lock them in a closet myself until they get their shit together.”
“Isn’t the whole point to get them to come out of the closet?”
Puck laughs and lifts their hands to his mouth, pressing a kiss to Kurt’s ring finger before he turns back to the road. “I’m guessing with those two, none of the usual rules apply.”
Fandom: Glee
Characters: Kurt/Puck
Rating: NC17
Summary: Puck just wants to make sure they use their time wisely. 3900 words.
Series: Down Is Where We Came From
A/N: A/N: I had this whole tl;dr speech here about topping and dynamics but then I just started to get kind of pissed about the fact that top!Kurt even needs an explanation. So you know, this is just more porn. Take or leave. (After this I will get back to the 'plot', such as it is. No, really.)
A/N 2:
What do you know, it's back up. AO3 link here.
Puck wakes up face down on the hotel bed. The seriously trashed hotel bed, with sheets that are softer than the ones at his mom’s house, but not even close to what Kurt’s got on his -- their -- bed back home.
The top sheet’s been missing for awhile; Puck figures it’s wrapped up in the bedspread that got kicked off the bed at some point yesterday. And it’s not like they haven’t left the room, because Kurt packed food, yeah, but not enough to get them through two whole days. But they keep the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door even when they’re out, mostly because Kurt doesn’t think it’s fair to make some poor, unsuspecting housekeeper clean up their mess twice.
Puck figures they’ve probably seen a lot worse, but he doesn’t argue, because arguing with Kurt just means less time they can spend fucking, and he’s making up for lost time here.
He flexes experimentally, hissing at the pleasant ache in...yeah, pretty much every part of his body. He can’t remember ever having this much sex in a two day period. He didn’t even have this much sex on prom night, which, granted, he didn’t actually go to prom, but if he had it would have been with Santana or some other chick, and not even Santana would have been up for a sex marathon like this one.
Maybe if he’d taken Kurt to prom. Puck grins at the thought and stretches again, turns his head on the mattress -- and there used to be pillows on this bed, didn’t there? -- to find Kurt wide awake, propped up on an elbow and watching him.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” Kurt echoes, then he smiles and reaches out to run his left hand down Puck’s back. Puck feels the cool glide of metal against his skin and presses his thumb against his own ring, turning the metal on his finger and shifting into Kurt’s touch.
“Isn’t this the hotel where they had the prom?”
“That’s how I knew the rooms were at least bearable.” Kurt’s frowning at him, but it’s not one of his ‘I hate it when you bring up traumatic high school shit’ frowns. This one’s thoughtful, like he’s trying to remember something and he can’t quite get there. “Were you at prom?”
“Not exactly my scene,” Puck answers. “Wait, did you just say you got a room on prom night?”
Kurt smirks at him then, and Puck would push up off the mattress and wipe the smug look off his face if he wasn’t digging what Kurt’s doing with his fingers so much.
“Well, I voted to blow it off and drive into Chicago for a weekend of live theater and decent shopping, but I was outvoted. Mercedes and Tina seemed to think that not attending prom would somehow impact their emotional development; I think they binged on multiple viewings of Pretty In Pink right before tickets went on sale. Artie did whatever Tina told him to once she finally took him back, so he was no help at all, which means that yes, I attended the McKinley High Senior Prom. It was just as tragic as you’d expect, and afterwards Tina and Mercedes got drunk on Peach Schnapps and both of them threw up in the bathtub.”
Puck laughs and tries not to picture it, because yeah, that’s way worse than what he and Kurt are leaving for the housekeeping crew to deal with.
“So no kinky four-way, then? You didn’t introduce my man Artie to the joys of a little guy-on-guy action?”
“Some people are actually heterosexual, you know,” Kurt says, which isn’t really an answer.
But his hand’s still moving, palm flat against the small of Puck’s back and he closes his eyes and grins as Kurt’s fingers skim across the top of his ass. In the past two days they’ve fucked in just about every way Puck could think of, along with a couple Kurt came up with all on his own. They’ve done it in the shower and on the floor, in front of the bathroom mirror and in the room’s only chair. He’s even spread Kurt across the table once or twice, and that’s without even counting all the ways they’ve violated the bed.
They’ve talked, too, not even about anything important. They’ve slept some, mostly when they were both so worn out they couldn’t keep their eyes open, watched some cheesy yet weirdly romantic porn about guys waking each other up by sticking their tongues in interesting places, and most of all, they’ve just hung out together, just the two of them, without any distractions.
Which, okay, they could have stayed in L.A. and done the same thing, but back there they’ve got jobs and school and friends and responsibilities and shit, and the only way Kurt would ever spend the money on a hotel room is to get away from his family. So this is a big deal, and Puck knows it’s the kind of thing that’s probably not going to happen again for awhile. Not until their honeymoon, he figures, and he hasn’t exactly worked out how they’re going to swing a trip to New York and a honeymoon suite, but he figures they’ve got some time to work it out.
“Babe,” he says, his voice catching a little as Kurt’s fingers dip into the crease of his ass. “When do you want to get married?”
“To be honest, I hadn’t really thought about it. I mean, I did just find out that I’ve been engaged for three months.”
Puck opens his eyes to take in Kurt’s smile, fond but sort of amused, and yeah, Kurt’s making fun of him, but he doesn’t really care. “It’s not my fault you’re a little slow on the uptake, Hummel.”
Kurt’s hand flattens against his ass, then he swats Puck’s right cheek with his open palm. It’s sharp and it stings a little, an Puck barks out a surprised laugh and turns onto his side to slide an arm around Kurt’s waist and drag him close.
“Did you just spank me?”
“I didn’t do anything you didn’t deserve,” Kurt answers, but he leans in to press a kiss on Puck’s cheek, then another one at the corner of his mouth. “Couldn’t we just enjoy our engagement for awhile?”
His hand’s on Puck’s ass again, palm pressing against the spot where Puck’s sure his skin is kind of red. Then he slides his fingers between Puck’s cheeks again, spreading him open and sliding steadily down.
“Whatever...whatever you want,” Puck says, pushing the words out from between gritted teeth as Kurt’s fingers dip lower to press against his hole. And granted, he’s topped more times than Kurt in the last two days, but Puck doesn’t bottom nearly as often as Kurt does at home either, so he’s not surprised that he’s a little sensitive.
“Too much?” Kurt asks, but instead of pulling away he presses down a little more firmly and opens his mouth on the side of Puck’s neck.
“Only if you’re about to tell me we don’t have time for one more round,” Puck answers, then he pushes back into Kurt’s hand until Kurt takes the hint and slides a finger inside.
And they don’t, really, have the time, that is, because check-out’s at like eleven, and there’s no way Kurt’s going home smelling like sex and Puck. Not that everybody in their families doesn’t know what they’ve been doing for two days straight, but they probably don’t need to rub anybody’s face in it.
But this whole thing was Kurt’s idea, which means he’s the one in charge of watching the clock, so when he doesn’t pull away and say that Puck’s right and they should probably get going, Puck decides not to worry about it. Instead he focuses on the finger pumping in and out of him, keeping up a slow, steady rhythm as Kurt’s mouth moves on his neck, then back down his shoulder to scrape his teeth along Puck’s bicep.
It’s kind of a weird angle, and the shallow thrusts of Kurt’s finger are doing more to drive Puck crazy than give him any kind of relief. He doesn’t want to stop even long enough to find a better position, but he wants more, too, so finally he lets out a frustrated growl and pulls away from Kurt to roll onto his back. He bends his knees and tilts his hips up while Kurt feels around for the lube, then he kneels between Puck’s thighs and pours a little on his fingers.
A second later his hand’s back, two fingers pushing into Puck this time and when Kurt leans over to kiss him, Puck’s hand wraps around his bicep to hold on as he rocks up into Kurt’s touch.
They’ve both come enough times by now that Puck’s pretty sure he doesn’t have anything left to give, but he’s hard anyway, pushing up to search for some friction and coming up empty, because Kurt’s too far away. He’s still kissing Puck, tongue keeping time with his fingers where they’re sliding in and out of him, but Kurt’s not touching him anywhere else.
“Babe,” Puck says, hand tightening on Kurt’s bicep and he reaches between them to catch Kurt’s other wrist where he’s still working Puck open, “just fuck me already. I’m good.”
“And modest,” Kurt says, but Puck doesn’t even get a chance to laugh at his lame joke before Kurt’s lubing up his cock and pushing Puck’s legs apart. He draws them up to tilt his hips up a little more, and Kurt catches one calf and slides Puck’ leg over his shoulder before he lines himself up and pushes inside.
Puck lets out a groan and closes his eyes, flexes around Kurt until he’s as deep as he can get. And it feels fucking fantastic, then Kurt starts moving and it feels even better. He catches Puck’s other leg and ducks his shoulder under it until Puck’s spread wide, both knees hooked over Kurt’s shoulders and he’s fucking bent in half, hands around Kurt’s arms and pushing up into every thrust.
Kurt leans in, dick sliding almost all the way out, until just the head’s still inside, then he kisses Puck. Puck kisses him back, hard, one hand leaving his arm to cradle the back of Kurt’s skull. Then Kurt pulls back and sinks back into him, pushing in slow and then all the way back out again to slam into Puck as deep as he can get.
“Fuck,” Puck grinds out, clenching hard around Kurt to drag him even further inside. “Goddamn, babe, do that again.”
And Kurt obliges, because he can be a giving kind of guy when he wants. And he wants this, wants Puck so bad he probably hasn’t even noticed that if they don’t get a move on they’re going to get charged for another day. Not that Puck would put up a fight about staying, but Burt’s expecting them, and he knows they can’t stay here forever.
But they get to do this forever, over and over and Puck grins and snaps his hips up to meet Kurt’s next thrust. Kurt moans at the sensation and Puck feels Kurt’s arms tremble on either side of him. And he figures Kurt’s probably at least as sore as he is, that his muscles have just about reached the breaking point by now.
He shifts under Kurt, turning a little and Kurt takes the hint and lets Puck’s legs slide off his shoulders. He’s still buried inside Puck when Puck turns on his side and pulls his top leg up, holding himself open as Kurt settles on his side and rests a hand on Puck’s hip while he slides in and out of him. It’s slower this way, not quite as deep, but Kurt’s hitting that spot inside him that sets off sparks behind his eyes, and Puck moans with each upstroke and tightens around Kurt until they’re both breathing fast and rocking together.
“Come inside me, babe,” Puck says, hand coming up to cover the one riding low on his hip. Their fingers thread together, Kurt’s ring pressed against his and Puck knows how cheesy it is, he does, but it makes his heart thud even harder against his chest. “I want to feel you leaking out of me when we’re back at your dad’s place.”
Kurt grunts and thrusts a little harder, fingers tightening around Puck’s and okay, so maybe he already knows they’re not going to have time to get cleaned up before they have to check out, because he’s not putting up a fight about going back to his dad’s place with his come still inside Puck.
And that’s just fine with Puck, because he likes smelling like Kurt.
He still hasn’t touched himself, ignoring the ache that’s building into something almost painful, because he wants to last as long as he can. But Kurt’s breathing hard against the back of his neck, mouthing at his skin and biting down on Puck’s shoulder and finally his hand leaves Puck’s hip to reach around and grip his cock.
Puck hisses at the contact and pushes back against Kurt, one hand reaching back to grip Kurt’s hip and pull him forward while the other closes around Kurt’s hand where it’s holding his dick and tightening their fingers to fist himself hard. He’s rocking between their combined fists and Kurt’s cock, chest heaving with the effort to breathe and when Kurt’s thumb slides across the tip of his cock at the same moment he bites down on Puck’s shoulder, Puck grunts and comes on their fingers.
There’s barely even any mess to worry about, because they’re both pretty empty by now, and Puck lets out a weak laugh and lets Kurt roll him onto his stomach and slide back inside him. Kurt’s stretched out across his back, mouth open on Puck’s skin at the base of his neck and sucking hard enough to leave a mark. It’s probably going to show above his shirt, even, as long as he avoids anything with a collar for awhile, and that’s something Puck can definitely do.
He lets out another chuckle and pushes back into Kurt, bends one leg and pulls it up a little to get Kurt a little deeper. He’s moving faster and faster, making these little noises in the back of his throat that tell Puck just how close he is, and Puck can’t see him or anything, but he knows Kurt’s flushed with the effort of fucking Puck so thoroughly he’ll feel it every time he sits down until they get back to L.A.
Something else that’s totally fine with Puck, and he moans and clenches around Kurt when the head of Kurt’s cock pushes up against his prostate. Kurt lets out a moan of his own and pulls out, then slams back into Puck even harder, his cock bumping up against that spot over and over and Puck’s already spent and way too sensitive and he’s pretty sure he’s going to die before Kurt finally lets up.
Kurt’s talking, murmuring words into his neck and Puck can barely make them out, but he knows what Kurt’s saying anyway. He hears Noah, whispered like a prayer, then Noah, ground out between gritted teeth and fucking filthy, hears beautiful and so tight and then mine, and that’s the one that gets him. The one that makes him push up onto one elbow and close his hand around Kurt’s where it’s pressed against the mattress, to turn his head and look back and say, “Yeah, baby, I’m all yours.”
Just for a second their eyes lock, and Kurt looks so surprised, like maybe he doesn’t even know he’s talking until Puck answers him. Then he slams forward until he’s buried balls-deep, eyes closed and Puck clenching around him as he comes.
Puck waits until he stops shaking and relaxes, slumped against Puck’s back and pressing his forehead against sweat-slick skin. Then he turns under Kurt, letting him slip out of Puck and it burns a little, yeah, but it’s good, it’s perfect, because it means he’ll be able to feel Kurt later on, when they’re sleeping in Kurt’s bed in his dad’s house and Kurt won’t put out again.
Though they could probably use a break, considering, Puck thinks, grinning and maneuvering onto his back to wrap his arms around Kurt. He presses chaste kisses to Kurt’s forehead, then his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, kisses that spot between his nose and his lip, too, just for good measure. Kurt sighs and turns his mouth up for a real kiss, and Puck smiles against him and obliges.
It would be easy to fall asleep again. Just pass out with their mouths still pressed together, breathing each other’s air and pretending the rest of the world doesn’t even exist. But it’s almost checkout time, and Puck knows Kurt will be pissed if they don’t get out of here on time.
He brushes his lips across Kurt’s forehead again, pushes damp hair away from his sweaty skin and grins at the picture Kurt makes with his hair kind of sticking up all over like...well, like he’s spent the past two days being thoroughly fucked on every surface of the room.
He’s going to bitch about it all the way home, and when they get back to Burt’s place he’ll probably head straight for the shower. And that’s fine, because Puck’s pretty spent himself, but he’s not planning to wash the smell of Kurt off him until he has to, so he figures he’ll just crash in Kurt’s bed and let him worry about how he looks.
“Babe,” he says, hands sliding up and down Kurt’s back, “it’s getting late.”
Kurt groans and presses his face into the crook of Puck’s neck for a second, then he shifts and pushes up to look at Puck. “Since when are you the responsible one?”
“Since I know what a bitch you’re going to be if we get stuck paying for an extra night and don’t even get to take advantage of it.”
Kurt rolls his eyes, then he rolls off Puck and sits up. And seriously, the room’s trashed. Like, not rock star trashed, because none of the furniture’s actually broken, and nobody put a foot through the TV or anything. But it’s pretty bad, and even Puck feels a little guilty about how much damage control housekeeping has ahead of them.
“It’ll give them something to talk about,” Puck says, sitting up to slide his arm around Kurt and press a kiss to his shoulder. “Probably make their week, even, talking about the two horny dudes who got come all over the room and didn’t leave a single condom behind. Shit like this probably never happens here.”
Kurt laughs and turns to glance at Puck over his shoulder. “Not everyone thinks two guys together is hot, you know.”
Puck just rolls his eyes and climbs off the bed, then he reaches out to pull Kurt up with him. “We’re hot together, babe. That’s just a fact.”
~
It takes about twenty minutes to pack up their stuff, and Puck’s pretty sure they’ve left at least a couple things behind, but he doesn’t care about a lost pair of boxers or whatever. It’s a small price to pay for the last two days, and if he’d known Kurt would take it this well, Puck would have let him in on the gay wedding plans a long time ago.
He grins as he slides into the driver’s seat, wincing a little at the burn in his ass and sliding the keys into the ignition. Kurt’s pulling his seatbelt on, and he’s not even looking at Puck, but he’s got this dreamy little smile on his face and Puck really wants to lean across the console and kiss him.
Instead he pulls around to the front of the hotel, slides the car into park, and opens the door. “Don’t go anywhere.”
Kurt just grins and lets Puck pull the room key out of his hand, then he disappears into the lobby to hand it over. The dude behind the desk gives him a bored look and thanks him for checking out, and Puck grins and doesn’t bother to tell him that the housekeeping staff might want to stock some extra disinfectant for when they hit room 248.
When he slides back into the car Kurt’s still wearing that same dreamy smile, and this time Puck doesn’t stop himself from leaning in and kissing him. Kurt kisses him back, slow and kind of lazy, and Puck grins against his mouth and pulls away to shift the car back into gear.
They’re easing onto the ramp that will take them back to the highway when Kurt breaks the easy silence, leaning back in his seat and watching Puck with a thoughtful little frown.
“Do you really think Schue has feelings for Finn?”
“Are you kidding?” Puck asks, glancing away from the road long enough to see that no, he’s not. “Did you not see them together at dinner?”
“They certainly seem close. And as much as I hate to admit that you were right, I’m fairly sure Finn’s actually in love with Mr. S...Will,” Kurt says, mouth puckering a little around the name, like he’s having a hard time working out how to say it. “He’s ridiculous and sort of annoying, but he is the closest thing I have to a brother. I hate to think I’ve been encouraging this crush of his, only to end with a broken-hearted stepbrother on my hands.”
Puck reaches across the console, holding out his hand until Kurt closes his own around it. He threads their fingers together and rests their hands on the center console, looking away from the road to grin at Kurt.
“Look, babe, first of all, whether or not some asshole stomps all over Hudson’s heart isn’t your fault. But we’re talking about Schue here. We both know Schue’s not an asshole. And anyway, he was talking like Finn hung the goddamn moon the other night. Didn’t you hear him? All, ‘Finn’s perfect for the role of Perchik, but his real talents lie behind the scenes’ or whatever. If that’s not a euphemism for gay sex, I’ve never heard one.”
Kurt laughs, but Puck can tell he feels a little better. And yeah, Puck gets that there’s still some tension between Kurt and Finn. He thinks he even gets why, and he’s pretty sure it mostly has to do with Finn sticking around and seeing Burt every day while Kurt’s off living his life a long way from Lima. But it’s sort of cool to see that Kurt gives a damn, especially since Puck’s kind of the one who started the ball rolling with Finn and Mr. Schuester in the first place.
“Tell you what; if they haven’t at least made out by the time we’re ready to leave town, I’ll lock them in a closet myself until they get their shit together.”
“Isn’t the whole point to get them to come out of the closet?”
Puck laughs and lifts their hands to his mouth, pressing a kiss to Kurt’s ring finger before he turns back to the road. “I’m guessing with those two, none of the usual rules apply.”
