A/N: yay for AU OOC smut x333
D/C: I bought Darren and Criss on ebay last night so they're mine! [this is a lie sadly ;_; none of the characters belong to me all belong to fox and Ryan Murphy]
…..
I began working here around two years ago. It was just after my step-father left me this place. Grease Monkey garage. He was a regular car junkie. Ever since he married my mom when I was at the tender age of three he showed me how to work a car, often comparing it to a fine woman which is probably why I had no interest in the motors. Quite simply, I'm gay.
But if treating a car is how a man treats a lady then he has to be straight. He could work wonders with any engine, any make, model, year. He knew everything about every car and could even tell a few things about the owner from merely looking.
He was incredible. Honestly I only hired him firstly based on looks and a desperate hope he swung my way but as it turned out he was the most talented person in this god forsaken dump. I hated here and countless times considered selling, even had offers but it was him that kept me here because I knew if I left then he'd be out of my life
"You okay Mr. Anderson?" A silky voice calls to me and I look up from the books, out the small, open office window where a beautiful brunette was looking to me. Kurt's slender body is somewhat on view, his blue coveralls pulled to his legs, tied around the waist. He is wearing a white wife beater, arms on display. His brunette hair is a mess and all along his face, clothing and flesh he's grubby and dirty with oil. He has a cheeky smile on his face, he was always happiest when working.
'I'm fine.' I was about to reply before eyeing the large wrench in his hand. He's cleaning the grease off it with a white clothe, stroking along the tool slowly, thoroughly cleaning. The images that fill my head are filthy, his hand expertly manoeuvring along the utensil. I find myself staring at his actions, swallowing loudly and his slender eyebrow raised.
"Mr. Anderson?" I shake my head and smile to him, forced, my groin's already burning, a semi supported. He could take one look at me with those smouldering, bedroom eyes and I was choked with arousal.
"I'm fine Hummel." I tell him and look back to the books, hand shivering. I hope he didn't notice but how could he not? He had to realize how I acted around him, everyone did. I knew they talked, even walked in on a conversation where they were talking about their 'cock-sucking' boss. I don't really care, they do their job well and it isn't exactly a secret although the time some kids graffitied FAG along the garage doors I was pretty damn pissed.
He smiles and nods, walking away and I sigh. Jesus fuck! I'm so damn hard from a five second conversation. I rested my head down on the desk, upon the books and sigh, one hand cupping my erect dick. This has become way too regular an occurrence, at least once a day. My last boyfriend Brad left me because I moaned Kurt's names one too many times.
My office is a small cubical, mostly cut off from the rest of the garage with the door and window opening onto the work site. They couldn't see….you know….if I indulged.
Kurt was looking onto a new car, his hand stroking along the side of the vehicle as he walked to the bonnet, memorising every curve. His body stretches as he pulls up the hood, white shirt rising just enough to show the soft flesh around his navel and the brown hair leading up to his belly button. His stomach heaves as he leaves up the bonnet and looks down, a broad smile extending across his perfect face.
I bite my lip and look to the other, less attractive workers and make sure none are watching as I look at Kurt, hand slipping into my underwear, feeling the swollen, hot organ pulsing in my hand as I bite back a moan, imagining its him stroking me, maybe even doing more. His fiddled at the engine and I imagined his hands running along my thighs, stroking and unbuttoning my trousers, pulling my jeans down slowly, his dark, smouldering, bedroom eyes glazing at me, chest heaving. The same look he gives a new engine, inhaling the fumes of my arousal like he does the odour of petrol. Burying his face in between my legs, hot mouth opening against my boxers, the muted heat so wet and moist against the fabric so I moan.
Out in the garage he places a cigarette behind his ear, his elegant but rough from work fingers stroking the stick. I bite my lip, stroking faster as I imagine his hands reaching into my boxers, slowly pulling my erect cock from my jeans and I whimper, biting my lip as he licked his labret, looking to the engine. I want those eyes on me, eyeing my dick, so big and hard, throbbing for him and he smirks, leaning in, tongue collecting the pool of pre-ejaculation, moaning, eyes rolling back into his head while his lips wrap around my weeping, red tip.
My eyes roll back into my head as I thumb the head and I almost roll my head back, moaning at the image of Kurt slowly sucking me off.
I open my eyes to see his hands rest on the front of the car as he leans down to check the engine, his back arching and perfectly moulded ass sticking out, the coveralls slipping down enough so the bare tip of his ass is visible as his shirt rides up along his back, showing the soft curve of his spine and the soft flesh of his perfect. Ass.
I growl, imagining squeezing his perfectly shaped ass in my hands, him crawling up my body, kissing he, rubbing against my thick erection, moaning, begging me to kiss him, touch him, fuck him.
The mere idea of that happening has me moaning quietly, stroking my erection faster, cheeks flushed and chest raising and falling swiftly. Oh god, he was so fucking hot, bent over the car, examining and fixing, working with love for the vehicle, his ass giving a little wiggle and I lean back in the chair, stroking myself, springing my dick from his clothed prison, no one can see the actions but I didn't care. Oh god, just looking at him, I'm so hot.
I imagine him leaning back on my lap, my rock hard, weeping dick, stroking along his opening, his soft, perfect ass. My head rolls back and I growl, gripping onto his ass, easing inside him.
Biting my lip I ever so slightly tighten my grip on my dick, gasping, whimpering and stroking fast as he moves his hips in times to the music playing in the garage. I'm tormented, my hand speeding up, stroking swiftly, my orgasm stirring as he leans back, hands running through his messy hair, sweaty and his white shirt see through and sticking to his flesh, nipples visible and the slight stains of petrol and grease all along his clothes and strong, multicoloured arms.
Biting on my bottom lip I part my legs some more, growling and stroking myself some more, faster, feeling my orgasm on my tongue, so intense like it always is when Kurt is in my mind. My other hand grips the wooden desk and I moan, breath catching, moaning, growling, eyes rolling back, closing, opening, hand getting faster and faster, more frantic, hectic, desperate.
"K-Kurt…" I moan, eyes squeezing shut as I explode in between my fingers, hot, sticky seed seeping through the digits, the slick sounds of self indulgence filling my office as I growl, belly heaving and heat spreading through my body as my movements slow, stretching my dick, gasping, head collapsing on the books as Kurt closed the bonnet.
My head was slick with sweat, hands wet and seed coated. I whimpered and gasped for air and I heard a cough. I look up to see Kurt looking at me, rubbing the rag along his chest and foreead, sweaty and beautiful.
"You okay Mr. Anderson?" He asks and I look to him, cheeks tinged pink and I was panting.
"I'm fine Hummel." I say and he smiles, walking back into the garage.
…..
A/N: there is a second part but it ends on a downer but it has smut so...its up to you guys if you'd like to see more xx
