Skin
It had all gotten out of control. At first it had been easy - I had just had to shove Hummel around a bit, or stand by and laugh with the others as someone else flung him into a Dumpster. That was all it took to feel as if I had these feelings on lockdown, that I was safe in my hetero skin and nobody could see through it.
But I was losing it. The shoves became harder and more frequent, more personal. I couldn't control the urge inside to hurt and push and touch the boy who was making me feel this way - I couldn't resist a chance to grasp at that warm body for a second. There was one day when Hummel had worn this ridiculous shirt - it couldn't have been designed for guys - that went off the shoulder, and I had shoved him out of the way, actually putting my hand on bare skin.
That had been the worst moment. Up until then I'd been sure that this was all just because Hummel was such a god-damn GIRL. It was just gender confusion. But touching him was nothing like touching a girl. The skin might have been soft but there was lean, taut muscle beneath those fancy clothes, flat and hard and male and it made me feel things. Sickening things.
It wasn't until it happened that I realised what he'd been trying to do - push Hummel and push him until something snapped.
I'd wanted to make him furious, seething, and I'd succeeded. Kurt was practically screaming at me now, almost spitting the words in my face.
He's too close, he's too close…
I could smell him…this indescribable smell on his skin…and suddenly I was leaning in, gripping Hummel's face and kissing him hard. I was full of the taste and feel of him, and the fierce, pounding want had flared up in my chest, but Hummel just wasn't DOING anything, he'd frozen, his warm mouth closed. I started planting fast, hot kisses on his mouth, nipping gently, trying to coax any kind of response out of him. At last, miraculously, Hummel parted his lips slightly, he started to kiss back and I lost all sense of control; I slid his hands underneath Hummel's shirt to caress the small of his back.
That seemed to snap Hummel out of it. His hands were on my shoulders, pushing me away to stare at me with big, indignant eyes.
"What the fuck?" he demanded.
Silence.
"Well, are you gonna explain?"
Explain what? I wondered. I'd made it all pretty clear.
I leaned in again, my lips grazing Hummel's jaw line briefly before I was suddenly shoved away, roughly this time.
"I swear to God I will kneecap you Karofsky. Explain, now."
"What do you want me to say? I'm sorry ok?"
"Oh, what are you sorry about exactly? Mauling me in the hallways every day or mauling me just now with your god-damn mouth?"
"Mauling you! You kissed me back!"
Kurt chose to ignore that.
"You're gay." he said, incredulous.
I didn't respond so he said it again.
"You're gay."
Silence.
"And you like me."
"Alright! You get it now?" I snapped.
I was moving in close again, gripping the back of Kurt's jacket.
"Please, Hummel…"
I didn't give Hummel a chance to speak before I caught the boy's lips in another fast kiss. Then I was trailing my way across his face and jaw, starting to kiss and suck softly at the skin of his neck. Hummel liked that. His breath hitched in his chest, his head tilting back slightly. Then, with a shock, I felt fingers twisting in my hair.
"So you're going to stop shoving me into lockers?" Kurt said breathlessly.
"Absolutely."
Kurt suddenly reached to press his mouth to mine hungrily, fumbling to find the bottom of my polo shirt and touch the bare skin of my stomach.
It was at that exact moment that the bell rang shrilly.
We broke apart, both slightly breathless. Soon there were sounds from outside, an obnoxious holler from some jock whose name I knew but couldn't remember. Reality hit me like an ice cold slushie to the face.
There was this awful look on Hummel's face. He looked seriously pissed but it was more than that. He looked completely ashamed, there was self loathing etched across his features.
Neither of us spoke. Blood still pounding in my ears, I tugged my shirt back down where Kurt had hitched up, as he picked up the leather bag he'd slung across the locker room in his earlier fury. Without a glance back at him, I left.