Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or anything related.
Wow, sorry that this took forever.. I've been planning the final chapters for some time now; obviously just needed two hours without a functioning internet connection to type some of it down...
On another note, I'm boring myself with my own stuff too much to actually pay attention anymore; whilst proof reading that is. I also cringe a lot. It's pretty awful. Long story short, I need a beta.
And now, enjoy!
It is still raining cats and dogs the next day at school, hundreds of students are dragging mud and water through the halls of McKinley High. Among them, Jeff with his books and notes pressed tightly against his chest, sporting a bruise along his jaw, and Kurt, having a miniature umbrella dangling from one of his belt loops. Just in case. Whatever case, Jeff has no idea, but everything Kurt does is just in case, half the time. The other would be to make a statement, but who is keeping tracks?
They walk and talk like they usually do. Kurt is barely paying attention to Jeff, also as usual. Not that the blond minds that much; he knows Kurt is simply out of fucks to give and he gets the attention he craves from someone else now. At Kurt's locker they stop and while his best friend checks his hair and shortly gets distracted by Rachel-I am better than all of you- Berry, Jeff strays a few seemingly random steps, as if bored by the whole day he's been having. After some time and without anyone noticing, he puts a crumbled piece of paper through the slits of a locker not far from Kurt's.
As Rachel skips away, Jeff joins his best friend once again, squinting at the florescent light that has been giving him a headache all day. Kurt narrows his eyes at him and leans over, actually giving him a proper once over for the first time that morning. "What is that?" He cups Jeff's jaw and tilts his head into the light, making him wince at its unwelcome brightness. A fresh cut stains the blond's lower lip an angry red. "That wasn't there yesterday afternoon!" Kurt asks then, gingerly touching the cut once and searching the blond's face for any other new injuries. "Don't think I can't distinguish between the ones from school and this," he adds when he recognizes Jeff's stunned expression, like a little boy who's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.. again.
"No! I mean-," Jeff hastily replies. He really wishes Kurt would stop noticing the embarrassing stuff. "No, it's not that. He-"
"He? You mean Duval?" Kurt tightens his grip. "Did he hit you? Did he hit you again?"
..The previous day..
"Hate you.. I hate you so much.." Jeff is murmuring into Nick's skin as he is biting and sucking and licking his way from his collarbone to his jaw and down again. "We need to get out of here," he breathes upon the reddened skin of Nick's neck.
The brunet pushes him off softly, grabs his hand and gets up. "Come on!" and he yanks Jeff behind himself as they make their escape from the Principal's foyer, somehow going undiscovered by Mr. Shue and Figgings still arguing on the other side of the glass wall. He leads them to the nearest bathroom and presses Jeff into the cold tiles. His hands find their way beneath Jeff's shirt and grab his hips, then move to the small of his back and in between his shoulder blades to hold him closer. Nick is brushing his thumb against hot skin in circular motions. Jeff hums softly as he throws his arms around the brunet's shoulders and connects their lips once more. He deepens the kiss quickly, moves desperately against Nick's mouth, hungry and devouring and without any grace at all. His hips rub along Nick's body unashamedly; just as unashamedly as the moans are that they trade between their hot, wet mouths.
Nick changes position slightly, only to start fumbling with Jeff's belt until he finally gets it and then his jeans open. His hand disappears underneath the unwanted fabric, but he has no patience nor does he care to undress Jeff completely. Instead, he pulls him free and, hand slicked with pre-come, pumps his cock without hesitation, hard and fast just like their kisses had been. Jeff is panting into his mouth, sweat covering his brows, his hair in a mess, and Nick has to look down, has to see what he is doing to the blond. He groans at the sight of Jeff's flushed cock, and when he feels his fingers dig into Nick's muddy jacket, he thumbs along the slit and under the head before he increases his speed once again, finishing him off.
When Nick spits onto his cock to ease the burn, it has Jeff crashing so fast that his body gives way when he spurts hotly into the brunet's hand and has to cling to him for leverage. Nick tilts his head up and kisses Jeff deeply, frantically and then there is a sharp pain and Jeff can taste blood in his mouth. Again. He sinks against the wall, his eyes wide in shock and one hand hovering over his split lip. He had bled before, but that had been a nose bleed from Nick's punches.
The brunet eyes the wound where he had just sunken his teeth in passion. He leans over to lick the blood away. He peppers it with soft kisses, murmuring apologies against the sensitive skin as he simultaneously tucks Jeff back into his pants.
Before Jeff can even decide whether this was possibly the hottest or the insanest thing he's ever done, they are interrupted by a loud hammering against the closed door. "Nick! Jeff! Are you in here?" Their absence hasn't gone unnoticed then; Mr. Shue has been looking for them. Eventually, they leave the bathroom, only to get dragged back into Figgins' office and be lectured about violence at school. They get away with a verbal warning, though.
"Come over tonight?" Nick whispers into Jeff's neck once they are out in the parking lot and saying their Goodbyes. The blond doesn't answer. Not with words anyway.
"Jesus, Kurt! No," Jeff interrupts his best friend as he shakes himself free. Trying and failing at not looking too smug, he ignores Kurt's concerned, searching gaze and his arm that still hovered near his body. At the last moment he stops himself from biting his lip in embarrassment as his cheeks turn a warm rosy color. "He.. He bit me." Jeff scratches the back of his neck, head held low, then looks at Kurt through his lashes. "You know, when.."
"Oh God!" Kurt snaps his arm back as if he'd been burned. "Okay, I'mma stop you right there. I don't need to hear any of that!" He pushes his locker door shut with a loud bang and starts for their next class. "Actually," he says as soon as Jeff has caught up with him, "I simply don't want to, but well.. Semantics."
Jeff laughs loudly, then winces when the stretch of his mouth tears at the fresh wound. Ow. He has nibbled at it before, savoring the metallic taste of his own blood and the memory of Nick's hungry eyes when he'd seen that he'd been too harsh. The high Jeff has felt through the brunet's possessiveness had kind of blown his mind, and as a result he had been ready to fall to his knees right then, even with his vision reduced to a bright flash behind heavy eyelids. And Kurt has no idea, he thinks kind of embarrassed, no idea at all.
..The previous day..
It's way past his curfew, if he'd have one, when Jeff finds himself staring at a foreign ceiling, his lower body tangled in the sheets of a bed, with his head near the headboard of Nick's bed, mind you. He's never even seen Nick's house before this night, let alone his room. Speaking of which.. It's kind of glowing. There are these Christmas lights wrapped around lilac curtains, everything is sort of purple and light in general. When he'd asked, Nick had told him that this was supposed to be his sister's room. He didn't elaborate. Instead, he had put on a pair of sweats and lit a joint.
And here they are, half naked outstretched across the bed, watching the ceiling. Jeff's hands are on his belly and in dark flattened hair that sprawls out into his side. After offering Jeff the first drag, Nick takes the spliff and takes a few of his own, leaving the room in smoke and utter silence. Then he blurts, coughing lightly, "This is fucked up." He inhales noisily, then, "I don't do this."
From his position on the bed, Jeff chuckles and lets one hand wander from the brunet's hair to his mouth."I'm sensing déjà vu," he says and takes the joint from Nick's lips. "We already had this talk.. I think."
"I know, I know." Nick muses and crosses his arms over his chest as well as he can without falling from the mattress. "Don't get your panties in a twist."
"Asshole," Jeff chimes, spliff between clenched lips, and scratches at a patch of disgustingly dried fluid. He makes a face at it.
"So eloquent," Nick teases, eyeing the patch himself before he leans up and takes the joint back.
"Says Mr. I don't know communication... -pants," the blond giggles, discomfort almost forgotten. He really is oh so eloquent, isn't he?
"Oh, fuck you too, Sterling." He inhales deeply and sinks down again, not before shoving the half smoked joint back into Jeff's mouth to shut him up. His head is buzzing lightly as the room slowly becomes a blur of colors.
It takes a few minutes before they start talking again. Jeff is blowing smoke circles into the air when he turns the joint in his hand and gazes upon the glimmering end. "I don't mind you being cheap or whatever, but at least buy some better shit." He takes another drag. "Your dealer sucks," he teases, "this here, this tastes like ass."
Nick snorts, "You would know," and earns himself a slap on the arm.
Not that Jeff had put any heat into it, though. He offers Nick the last inch, who snags it easily from his hand. His voice sounds distant, the tone one of surprise when he speaks up a little while after. "Oh wow," the brunet looks up from where he's just used the makeshift ashtray. "I'm so hungry right now, we should get.. tacos."
"With bacon and like, tuna.."
"Totally."
"Or brownies.."
"Dude! Totally!"
Nick has his arms in the air now, his fingers tracing invisible patterns against the off-white ceiling. "Tacos.." he begins, "Tacos are like," he glances over at Jeff and loses his train of thought. "Your hair looks funny," he finally concludes. From afar, he fake-pets Jeff's head with something that others might mistake for affection gleaming in his eyes. "If the sun was hair, no wait, you'd be the sun- 'cause you're hot and..," he looks confused and fascinated at the same time, then he grins and flops back down. "Sunny hair!"
"Oh wow, yeah. Brilliant, dude, totally."
"I'm thinking tacos."
"You know," Jeff begins, scratching his belly again. And again, he looks confused and disgusted at the flaky patch. "Thinking, you know- Thinking is like reading your own mind."
"Okay, God, you're like," Nick ponders, "a genius." He is still grinning. "A sunny genius! A senius, a senior? Senõr.. Do you want tacos?"
"We should hook up sometime."
"How about a mustach-? Oh, I know, right? Awesome.."
Jeff giggles, "But you're so tiny!"
Nick lifts the waistband of his sweatpants. "Really?"
Jeff rolls over, takes a look under the fabric and shrugs. "Huh, maybe not."
"Dude, why are you looking at my junk?"
Jeff shrugs again. "I thought we were hooking up?"
"Oh yeah, right. I can't, though." The elastic band snaps loudly against the brunet's skin. "Don't tell anyone, but it's dangerous. To be with me."
"I'm a risky kind of guy," Jeff winks. His eyes leave Nick's face, gazing longingly upon the bare skin of his shoulders and arms. "You look strong," he hums, pleased with the sight in front of him and his face lights up suddenly. "You should fight me sometime! And, you know, hook up sometime. Combined."
"Oh wow, dude, you're bleeding.." Bright red spots next to almost black scrapes are spread across the blond's creamy skin. Nick's gaze lingers on them and he remembers, a satisfied smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. "I fucked you hard."
"You did? Yes, okay. So next time then; I'd better write that down," and with that Jeff squirms out from underneath the sheets and waddles towards the desk, he and his birthday suit illuminated by the golden Christmas lights. He grabs the nearest pen and a piece of paper and starts writing while Nick seems to have reentered his own little world. He mumbles dreamily to himself. "I can't put you in danger, can't let myself be weak. She wasn't supposed to- Huh," he stops and sighs. "There's this guy I care about- Jeff. What kind of name is Jeff? He can't be like.." he trails off.
The whole time Jeff has been writing in between little sways when the floor had attempted to give way. Okay, maybe his legs had given way and not the floor, so what? He stuffs the paper into the back of his jeans lying next to his feet. Having waddled back to the bed, he straddles a zoned-out looking Nick and kisses him deeply, his hands touching as much skin as possible, before he declares, "I'm hungry!"
The next morning at home, Jeff hadn't really been in the right mind to remember much. That joint had been some fucked up shit, for sure. He just knows that Nick didn't seem to realize that Jeff was by his side half the time, or even recognize him. Also, Mexican food had been a thing, devoured almost religiously until Jeff'd called Logan to pick him up. At about 2 am on a school night. Logan isn't going to tell their mom, but he'll never let Jeff live this down. Ever. About that he is positive.
With a sigh the blond turns away from Kurt and takes one final look at the paper he's about to shove into Nick's locker - better spend his time well while his best friend is still distracted! Nothing has changed much since he'd woken up this morning, although he does remember maybe half the happenings because he'd found that same piece of paper in his jeans. Seeing his own intoxicated thoughts written down is kind of surreal, he decides. When he hadn't been too distracted, he must have simply copied what Nick had said.
With a red pen he adds some text to the back before he folds it up to chuck it in.
When Nick opens his locker before PE, he finds the letter lying on his bag and frowns. He opens it and reads Jeff's list; everything is slowly coming back to him. Then he turns it, only to find even more beneath a scribble of the sun.
I don't care whatever danger you were talking about, but I care about you too. We should talk. -J
...
..Weeks later..
It is midday of the New Year. Hot breaths huff across sweat-slick skin in an otherwise dead-silent room, dark eyes gaze into each other, stupid grins twist shiny faces into grimaces. Wet lips taste the air. A labored voice is heard, words stumbling out between shaky inhales. "How do you find the taste of your defeat?"
Lips taste the air again, but go on to rather have hot skin instead. "Bittersweet."
To be continued (for like two or three more chapters).
Aaaaaaand I cut the actual smut scene.. Oops! You'll get that separately next time. Also cut the text on the paper, not happy with that at all. Still contemplating whether to throw the Weeks Later part out too... Also, I thought my stoner talk was funny... Let's not talk about that ever again. I've clearly been watching too much Skins.
I'll be so glad when this story is done tbh. See you around, dudes! :) xoxoxo