Title: You Could Save me
Author: Fatebegins (http:// fatebegins .livejournal .com/)
Rating: NC-17 / M
Pairing: Puck/Kurt (Purt/Puckurt).
Summary: Puck is a bodyguard who takes on a privileged client. Sparks of all kinds fly.
Disclaimer: No Glee don't belong to me or to fatebegins, this history is not mine! But I have permission to post it here! (The original post: http:// fatebegins .livejournal .com/15730 .html )
Warning: AU, violence, angst
Review? Please? *puppy eyes*
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"Don't you want to talk first?"
Puck pulled back his teeth grazing over the guy's full bottom lip before looking down into pale blue eyes incredulously. Was this guy that naive or… just that young?
"How old are you?" Puck ground out. His entire body was strung tight, his hands tightening minutely on the younger man's waist. He needed release.
"Twenty three," The kid looked pissed when Puck arched an eyebrow. "I just look younger." He sounded put out. "You wanna see my ID or something?"
"Hell no," Puck growled, whatever this guy was he was old enough and convenient. Puck slammed his mouth back down on top of his softer one, his tongue thrusting between pliant lips and pulling soft moans from the younger man.
Puck hands reached around back, his palms gripping the other man's ass, squeezing and kneading through tight denim. Puck's fingertips lifted material out of his path, dipping below the waistband to touch hot, naked flesh. The kiss broke off on a gasp.
"I thought we were going to talk?" His voice was unsteady and his eyes overly bright.
"Fine." Shit but the guy was fucking hot. That was the only reason why Puck was still wasting his time with him. "What's your name?"
A look of surprise flitted across porcelain skin. "Kurt."
"Puck." He responded, his mouth already sucking bruises into the pale curve of Kurt's white neck. Kurt shivered against him for a moment, leaning back to give Puck better access to his body.
"Wait." Kurt moved back once more and Puck followed him, pressing close to his slender body until their heat melded as one. "That's it?" Kurt swallowed. He looked nervous.
"I know your name." Puck shrugged. "And you know what name to scream out while I fuck you. What else is there to know?"
"But…" His blue eyes were luminous in the streetlights. "I thought…" Kurt's mouth worked but nothing came out.
Puck groaned. He really wanted to bend this kid over the nearest flat surface and fuck his tight ass senseless and wordless. When Puck had accepted the invitation to this swanky Hampton party, he had had one thing on his mind; a mindless, meaningless fuck. Puck just wanted to find a pretty face and come all over it. Was that too much to ask? Apparently, from the teary eyed expression of this brat, he had chosen the wrong guy. He'd wasted a whole hour of brainless chatter on some starry eyed clinger. He didn't want to deal with any of this bullshit.
"Listen Kevin-" He began.
"It's Kurt."
"Close enough." Puck retorted. "I'm not here for conversation, kid." Puck's eyes darkened as they drifted over delicate, pale features and then focused on kiss swollen lips. "Now either you do something a lot fucking more inventive with your mouth that doesn't involve bitching or I'll go back in there and find some other twink to suck my dick."
Kurt drew in a sharp breath, his eyes filling with tears. For a moment, just for a single second, Puck almost felt bad for his harsh words.
"Then…then I think t-that's what you should go do." Kurt's voice was pained.
Puck shrugged, he could care less. "Like I said, I could get any guy in there." Puck smirked and he turned around, heading for the entrance and the hot blonde he'd abandoned when Kurt had sauntered into the room, all eyes and hips and kissable lips. The brunette had and still did look fucking gorgeous in tight black jeans, camel brown ankle boots and a silky, form fitting shirt. Puck had taken one look at him and his mouth had gone dry. False advertising, Puck scoffed. "Fucking tease."
Kurt didn't bother replying.
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Thirty minutes later, Puck was back outside of the house, his back pressed against cool brick and hot blonde guy had his lips wrapped around his cock, sucking him off like a pro. With every lash and lick of the guy's tongue, images of Kurt came into his head. He looked down and saw blue eyes looking back up at him instead of blonde guy's green.
Puck reached down, widening his stance and thrusting up into the guy's throat making the other man gag. "Shit." He mumbled, his hand fisting in artfully coifed hair. "Kurt…"
The talented mouth stilled and then Puck's dick was suddenly assaulted by cool air as hot blonde guy pulled off. "It's Tripp." He pouted with his thumb and forefinger still around Puck's engorged length.
Puck stared down at him confused for a moment before he remembered that he had said Kurt's name out loud. "Close enough." Puck wrapped the silky blonde strands around his fingers, tugging forward sharply until blonde guy resumed his prior position. The man had a mouth like a hoover.
It was only from years of practice in his line of work that Puck didn't jump when the door of the patio slid open with a gravely noise. Blonde guy didn't seem to hear the noise with his back to the patio and increased his suctioning effort, one hand coming up to fondle Puck's heavy balls. Puck let out a soft groan, partly because of what the man on his knees was doing but mostly because the figure who had just stepped outside was Kurt and he was looking straight at them.
Puck's hands fisted in blonde guy's hair, guiding the hot mouth up and down his cock while keeping his eyes firmly locked with Kurt's. He licked his lips and saw Kurt follow the motion.
Kurt looked startled, his mouth hanging open and his gaze flickering horrified from Puck's pleasured face to Tripp on his knees between Puck's legs and then back up to Puck's face again. His hands fluttered uselessly at his sides as he backed away.
Puck was only slightly disappointed when Kurt scampered back into the house. He'd been hoping that Kurt would want to watch or maybe even join in. He should've known that the prissy prude would turn tail.
When Puck did come, moments later, he came with a bitten off cry and Kurt's name lingering on his lips. Puck zipped up his pants and patted the blonde guy's head. The other man hadn't moved off his knees and was licking his lips, his tongue catching a drop of Puck's come that clung to the corner of his red mouth.
"Thanks Tom." Puck said.
"It's Tripp!" He called out indignantly.
But Puck was already halfway gone.
Puck slid into his car with a smile on his lips. He could tell that hot blonde guy was not used to people forgetting his name. Everything about him screamed privilege and class; he reeked of money from the top of his styled, highlighted hair to the tip of his Italian leather soles.
Puck was glad he could teach him a lesson in humility.
Puck's phone vibrated in his pocket; his work phone. He picked up immediately.
"Mike?"
"We've got a job." Mike responded.
"Who?"
"You're not going to like it."
"Who?"
"Burt Hummel needs a protective unit for himself and his son."
"No shit." Puck breathed. "Why?"
"Some radicals have been threatening him, something about his out sourcing."
"Well, imagine that. Poor bloated fat cat scared for his family." Puck mocked, he couldn't stand rich, entitled pricks.
"Puck..." Mike's voice held a warning note.
Puck rolled his eyes. "When?"
"As soon as possible," Mike said. "Listen, you're in the Hamptons now aren't you?"
"Yeah?" Puck wasn't following.
"Hummel's there on vacation. I'll forward his address; he's expecting you in twenty."
"You do know what I do here, don't you?"
"It's kind of hard to miss." Mike sounded amused.
"You think it's a good idea to come into the meeting smelling like sex?"
"Just put the top down, you bastard. We need the money from this job. Hummel may be a 'bloated fat, cat' but we sir, are not."
"I know." Puck's voice was quiet. He knew why they needed the money.
"Alright then, work your magic. Worse, comes to worst you baby sit some rich shit for a couple of months and we get thousands of dollars."
"How much they paying?"
"For four months, Hummel is willing to shell out - and don't fucking crash when you hear this but - a quarter of a million."
"Unbelievable," Shit. Puck thought about Aidan and a grin split his face. "Never thought being special ops paid so well."
"I know. Don't mess this up, I'm sending the rest of the team tomorrow morning; get Hummel to sign the contracts by tonight. Create a sense of urgency and chaos, whatever you have to do to get his ink on that page."
Puck maneuvered his car, slowing it to a crawl as his GPS beeped, downloading Mike's incoming address and inputting directions for the new course. "Got the info."
"Make us proud." Mike said. The line went dead.
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Puck's fingertips were itching; a sign of anticipation that he recognized well within himself. Hummel was perusing the sheets worriedly while Puck watched, fighting the urge to break the indecisive man's neck.
"Is all of this going to be necessary?" He pointed to surveillance sheet and the tally for equipment as well as the men needed to man it.
"We could always skimp on surveillance Sir-"
"Call me Burt, please."
"Burt," He obliged. "We could always skimp on the surveillance equipment but that would leave so many holes in our grid. For instance," He pointed to the spot on the blueprint that coincided with a darkened corridor of the mansion Hummel dwelt in. Puck had to tamp down on his anger. Two people living in a house that could house two hundred was ridiculous. "That hallway has about three visual blind spots, any of which could be accessible to a sniper or assassin."
"Assassin?" Burt's face purpled. "Do you think the threats are that serious?" He sounded scared, genuinely afraid, and Puck could've shouted with glee. Sucker.
"In all honesty," Puck looked Mr. Hummel in the face and lied. "Yes, I do." He'd looked over the handful of notes and various things when he'd arrived. It quickly became obvious to Puck that not only were they dealing with an amateur, they were dealing with a frightened one. The threats weren't to be taken seriously, but of course, Burt Hummel, the rich bastard owner of six Lamborghinis that he left carelessly out in the rain, didn't know that.
Burt gulped and looked down at the stack of papers. "Where do I sign?"
"Right over-"
"Dad! I'm home."
Puck tensed; something about that high voice sounded familiar but he couldn't quite place it.
"That's just my son." Burt scrawled his signature across the bottom of the page and rose to his feet. Puck released a relieved breath. "He had a little get together with some friends. Normally, I wouldn't let him out so late but, you know…" Burt shrugged as if to say boys will be boys.
Puck looked at his wristwatch discreetly. It was only ten thirty. Burt Hummel was obviously one of those over protective dads.
"Come on in, son." Burt called. "We're in the sun room."
Sun room, Puck snickered. As the footsteps got louder, Puck began to gather up the contract, filing the legal papers away in his briefcase efficiently.
"This is our new head of security, Noah Puckerman." Burt said. Puck lifted his head with a polite smile fixed to his face and his hand froze midair for a fraction of a second when he met aqua eyes. The same eyes that he had walked away from two hours ago, ignoring the devastation mirrored in their depths.
"Noah Puckerman," Puck said, holding out his hand. "Pleasure to meet you."
Kurt looked like he had seen a ghost. The younger boy hadn't moved but just stared slack jawed at Noah's extended hand, slender hands gripping his bag.
Burt coughed none too discreetly and Kurt immediately stepped forward and took Puck's hand in a brief shake.
"Nice to meet you." Kurt croaked.
Burt looked between them uneasily. "Is something wrong?"
"Well, it's a nerve wracking experience to have to acquire a bodyguard." Puck explained. "I'm sure Kurt is just afraid because this situation has evolved to the point where he has need of one."
"That must be it!" Burt brightened. "I'll leave you to it then." He clapped Kurt on the back. "Show Noah your guest room when you're done getting acquainted."
Kurt nodded meekly.
"Good night, son!" Burt called as he disappeared down the corridor.
Kurt waited until Burt was out of earshot. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"What are you talking about?" Puck asked coolly sitting down on the couch unruffled by the entire exchange.
"You…you know what I mean."
"No, I'm afraid I don't." Puck regarded the other man silently, feigning confusion. Kurt's face turned red.
"Tonight! You…well, you kissed me." His blush intensified. "A-and touched me. Now, I come back home and find out that you're my new bodyguard?"
"You must have me mistaken for someone else." Puck smoothly crossed his legs. "Now, we have some scheduling to coordinate, if you're done telling stories."
Kurt's face drained of color. "You're an asshole."
"Never wanted to be anything else." Puck didn't so much as flinch.
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Review? Thanks a lot!