A/N: This is entirely my brain-child, although my older sister decided to write a more explicit version of this, so if you care for that sort of thing, go look up Dreaming-Of-A-Nightmare. Otherwise, enjoy this hot Dave/Kurt fluff! :D
Warning: no real plot or timeline. Just take it as it is, as an AU or whatever. ;P
Tossing his keys onto the table, David Karofsky shrugs off his heavy winter coat and rubs his neck with his hands, lolling his head side to side. He exhales deeply before pinching between his eyes.
"Honey? Do we have any aspirin left? I may have a headache in the process of forming. Today at work was extremely stressful, what with the holiday rush and all. I can't believe Christmas is next week…" he drawls, pulling out one of the kitchen chairs and plopping himself down into it.
"Oh, poor baby," comes his spouse's voice from the hallway behind Dave. "I'll be right out. Would you like me to rub your shoulders? Get you a beer?"
Dave shakes his head and loosens his tie. "No, thanks. For the beer, I mean. I don't feel like drinking. But that shoulder rub sounds nice." And a small, tired smile lifts the corner of his mouth.
He soon feels slim-fingered hands on his shoulders, a little cool, but on his hot skin it feels wonderful. The hands slip under the collar of his button-up shirt and slide over his trapezius to his chest, the buttons flying open. They recoil, returning to the shoulders to shrug back the fabric and work deep into Dave's aching muscles.
"Mm… yeah, right there. Ah! Oohh…" Dave murmurs, his eyes closing automatically as pain and release collects and evaporates in his stressed tendons.
"Feeling better?" the other asks, leaning forward to murmur the question seductively in Dave's ear.
Dave grins, a huff of a laugh breezing past his lips. His eyes remain closed. "Yeah, much. Thanks, Kurt."
He finally opens his hazel brown eyes and turns to peer over his shoulder at his husband, but as he does so, he jumps in his seat, the blood rushing to his face in a blush as his eyes bulge and his jaw falls slack.
Kurt smirks knowingly and paces around to face Dave, noticing how the businessman's eyes never leave Kurt's form, and instead, only seem to study it further.
Kurt strikes a little pose, one finger to his bottom lip and one foot popped in the air as he bends over slightly, his butt propped up. "How do I look?"
Dave blinks a few times, trying to keep himself from drooling. He shakes his head in bewilderment. "I… don't even… God. Wow. I just… Damn."
Kurt giggles. He gazes down at himself for a second, knowing all too well how amazingly sexy he looks. He found the outfit in the lingerie department at Victoria's Secret. The clerk at the register didn't even bat an eyelash, most likely assuming that Kurt was buying it for his girlfriend or wife. Pssh. As if Kurt would ever go near something with a vagina.
The outfit itself is composed of a silky, clingy sort of red fabric lines with velvety soft white fur at the top, the fur stretching across the expanse below Kurt's collarbones and acting as fluffy little off-the-shoulder straps on his biceps. The bottoms are red short-shorts of the same fabric as the top, complete with a shiny black belt and corresponding golden buckle in the shape of a bundle of holly berries with leaves. Kurt even went so far as to purchase a teeny Santa hat on a headband and shiny knee-high boots with white fur trim (but no heels; he neatly chopped and filed down those) to match.
It doesn't help any that there is a gold ribbon with a Christmas bow around Kurt's neck, as if he were a present.
Kurt pulls out a handful of real mistletoe from his boot, being slow and sensual as he does so, dipping down low, bending over enough for Dave to catch a glimpse of the bottom bit of skin of his ass, and then slowly slinking back up into standing position, mistletoe held above his head. He steps close to Dave and leans over, mistletoe between them, high above their heads.
"David, baby," he sings, "Hurry down the chimney tonight~." And he gives his husband and long, passionate, tender kiss that makes Dave's heart race even faster than it already had been, even going as far as to make him pant through his nose during the kiss.
Kurt pulls away, and Dave moves to grab him by the belt loops and yank him down. But Kurt stops him, lowers his greedy hands and making a clicking noise with his tongue.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Kurt scolds, "You're not supposed to touch a Christmas present until Christmas Day."
Dave grins. "I think we can make an exception just this once." And he gently sits Kurt on his lap again, kissing him lovingly on the mouth.
Kurt giggles softly to himself. "I guess you're right. Merry Christmas, Dave."
"Merry Christmas, Kurt."
