Need
Kurt's just out of the shower, running a towel over his hair. He hears someone coming down the staircase to his basement room and pops his head out of his ensuite. "Finn?"
"No, it's me."
"Noah!" Kurt tosses the towel, and moves into his bedroom, smiling at his boyfriend. "What a surprise!"
"I know it's a little late. I told your Dad I needed some notes for tomorrow." Puck stops at the bottom of the staircase, he doesn't move into the room. He doesn't reach to hug Kurt. Something's up…Kurt stops walking towards his boyfriend. Puck usually runs down the staircase, screaming out "Yo, Princess! Where are you?" Kurt's pretty sure he knows what this quiet, subdued Puck means. He watches Puck; looking for the sign …Puck lowers his head, eyes on the floor. Bingo! Got it in one!
"But you don't need any notes, do you Noah?"
"No"
Kurt tightens the belt on his robe and motions Puck to come to him. The jock moves to the center of the room, stops in front of the countertenor.
"What do you need, Noah?"
Puck drops to his knees. "You"
Kurt reaches out, runs his fingers through Puck's narrow strip of hair. His boyfriend bows his head, allowing Kurt to caress his neck. Kurt's skin is still warm from his shower, but, Puck's skin is hotter still. Kurt slips his hand under Puck's shirt, strokes into the curve between neck and shoulder. The countertenor walks his fingers back up the side of the jock's neck, tugs on his earlobe and steps away from the kneeling boy.
The McKinley voice crosses over to his bedroom door, locks it. He opens a drawer in his bedside table, takes out lube and condoms, and drops them on the floor beside his boyfriend. Puck hasn't moved. He's not going to move until Kurt tells him to. He's not going to do anything unless Kurt orders it. Not tonight. Not when he needs this.
The countertenor stands behind the kneeling jock. He puts both hands on Puck's shoulders, moves them down his back, grabs the hem of his T-shirt and pulls it up and off. Kurt leans over Puck, curled over his back. He runs his hands over his boyfriend's chest, one hand smoothing softly over the scarred nipple, a souvenir from Puck's time in juvie.
"You didn't call first, Noah. What if I was studying or sleeping? That was very inconsiderate." The words dark and soft, almost whispered in Puck's ear.
"Sorry."
"I think I deserve more than sorry, Noah."
Puck shivers as Kurt's words breathe against his ear. "Yes."
The Glee diva unwinds himself from the still kneeling boy, stands straight behind Puck. He places one palm in the center of Puck's shoulder blades and pushes him down. He doesn't have to push hard, Puck moves easily, more than eager. Head and shoulders touching the floor, arms stretched out in front of him, ass in the air.…a supplicant's position. Nothing tonight is what it appears to be though. Contrary to all appearances, Puck is not begging. He's demanding and Kurt is giving.
Now, Kurt kneels behind Puck. He undoes Puck's belt and zipper, pushes his jeans and boxers down. Pull the jeans all the way off or leave them pooled around his boyfriend's knees? The fashionista debates the question for a second, but decides to leave the jeans as they are. It's not really worth the effort to remove them properly and he knows Puck doesn't care. This is Kurt's favourite part, well maybe not his favourite part, but close. Puck's ass is 'a many splendored thing'. Kurt's hands roam over his boyfriend's ass. They curve over his hips and glide over his thighs, always returning to his ass. Kurt plays; constantly petting, stroking, kneading, squeezing. Not just his hands, his lips get into the act too; kissing, nipping, biting. Puck's sighing; soft little puffs of sound. He pushes against Kurt's hands, wanting more. Play time is over… Kurt raises his hand and delivers a slap, sharp and fast. The slap is repeated over and over, until his boyfriend's skin blushes. The diva watches, and as Puck's ass colour changes from pink to red, Kurt slips his other hand between the jock's legs and finds his balls, rolling them softly.
Sometimes Puck wishes that he could stay in this moment forever. It just feels so good. The heat and sting on his ass, Kurt's fingers teasing his balls, his hand brushing against his cock. His senses seem to expand; everything feels stronger, more intense. He could do this forever, until he can't…until he needs more.
Puck moans. "Kuuuurrt"
The countertenor coats his fingers with lube and rubs them over the kneeling boy's anus. Kurt pushes into Puck, slowly, one finger at a time. When he's three fingers in, and Puck is thrusting against his hand, Kurt pushes his robe open with his other hand and rolls a condom on. The jock whines a bit when his lover removes his fingers. Kurt shushes him with a quick kiss to his shoulder. The diva slicks more lube onto his cock and lines himself up, presses against Puck's entrance. Holding his boyfriend's hips, Kurt waits as Puck pushes back, impaling himself on Kurt's cock. When Kurt is buried deep, he leans over Puck's back and presses kisses everywhere. When Puck is ready, Kurt pulls out and starts to thrust, increasing the speed and the force of each thrust until he's pounding into the jock.
Puck thrusts back against Kurt as hard as he can, they are slamming into each other. Puck starts to babble. "Need you! Need you, Kurt!"… "Always! Always!" … "Fuck me! Please!"… "Fuck me! Kurt!" The countertenor reaches for his boyfriend's cock, his hand and cock move in sync, slamming into Puck's body and sliding over his cock. Puck throws his head back and flows over Kurt's hand. Kurt wraps his arms around Puck, holds him close as he moves them till they're lying on their sides on the floor. Kurt moves inside Puck still, slower now, but deep until he finds his own release, his teeth biting into Puck's shoulder.
They lie perfectly still, too tired to move, curled around each other.
Kurt's heartbeat slows. His breathing evens out and his mind starts to work again. He leans his cheek against his lover's back, and traces designs on Puck's hip. This babbling thing that Puck does is fascinating. Kurt's positive that Puck doesn't even know he does it. When they're in the middle of sex, rushing towards orgasm, Kurt doesn't really register what Puck is saying. But at times like this, when he's blissed out and tired and curled into his boyfriend, he remembers the words his boyfriend gasps out and he smiles to himself. It's very sweet, really. Not that he's going to tell Puck that, not ever. Another interesting thing about the babbling, aside from the fact that Puck doesn't know he does it, is that he only ever does it when he bottoms. When Puck tops, there's just gasping and breathing, no babbling, no tender words or subconscious pleas. Kurt finds the whole thing fascinating. How could he not love Noah Puckerman?
Puck's heartbeat slows. His breathing evens out and his mind starts to work again. He reaches back to stroke Kurt's thigh. How did he get this lucky? He can be whoever he wants to be with Kurt and his boyfriend never makes him feel weird about it. Kurt listens and not just in bed. Puck doesn't have to act like a badass around Kurt. He doesn't have to hide that he's smart. He can tackle guys on the football field or he can cry at Disney movies. Kurt never judges. For some unknown reason Kurt loves him and that's why Puck's not going anywhere, ever. He's going to stay right here, tucked up in Kurt's arms.
"Think Burt will let me sleep here tonight?"
"Not a chance in hell."