Starchild? Who calls themselves Starchild?
That was the first question on Kurt's mind when he saw the man walk into the audition. That question was followed by a dozen more when the stupid glitter rock vampire took to the stage and opened his mouth. Like:
Who still wore platform shoes?
Why is he so glittery?
Did he make his top hat too?
I cannot believe he is wearing a top hat in public.
Lady Gaga! Really? Well that was an obvious dig at me.
Project runway season six, a terrible season.
No Danni, don't smile at him.
Oh, great now he's coming over here, why is he staring at me?
Is that eyeliner?
Oh, great now he's pelvic thrusting on the floor, this eye contact is really awkward now.
Thank god he's stopped.
THE CHANDALLER! Dontbreakdontbreakdontbreak.
Who the hell thinks it's ok to swing on a chandelier?
Finally, it's over.
"So, what do you think?" Starchild asked, panting for breath. Before Kurt could say a word, Santana was on her feet, hooting, clapping. Kurt could slap that women. That was nothing to clap about.
"Not a fit." Kurt said, and then he said something which he knew would really great on this Starkid's nerves, "Unless you're willing to tone down your look." There was a little satisfaction in seeing Starchild's face drop a little. Kurt had seen the likes of these people before, thinking they were all 'that', there had been Rachel Berry, then those who worked at Vogue, and don't get him started on NYADA, Kurt couldn't stand to work with another one of 'them'.
"Excuse me while I bitch slap my friend." Santana said. Starchild was still staring at Kurt, why was he staring? Why did it make Kurt feel so uneasy? This weird coil of hate and something else twisted in his stomach.
He does have really nice hair.
"Fine, I'll just go. It's Elliot, by the way." Starchild said standing in the doorway," I hope that name is 'toned down' enough for you."
And Elliot stormed out of there, tailcoat streaming.
"What, the hell! Kurt look at me. Look at me!" Santana slapped Kurt across the face, sending a sting across his cheek.
"Santana!"
"Do it again." Danni said from the stage, "the acoustics sound brilliant in this room."
"You are sabotaging the band."
"I am not."
"He's perfect!"
"Perfect if Boy George had an emo phase."
"I thought he would have been perfect for you Kurt, he loves Lady Gaga, makes his own clothes and doesn't care what anyone thinks."
"And you two were making some serious sexy eyes during that entire performance." Danni added.
"I was not! How dare you!" Kurt rose from his chair and marched out the door.
"Where are you going?"
"To put some cold water on my face before it bruises!" Kurt snapped back feeling attacked an antsy. How dare Danni accuse him of making sexy eyes! Kurt made it to the bathroom and turned the sink on, splashing water over his entire face. Why was he so flustered? The girls had got him all worked up. Putting a band together was far harder than it looked. Kurt stared at himself in the mirror. Elliot was not attractive, anyone that gave themselves an alter ego was not attractive. And top hats? Really?
"Season seven." Someone said from the cubicle. Kurt saw in the mirror right away. Elliot.
"Excuse me?" Kurt asked, trying to pretend his face wasn't dripping wet. Elliot washed his hands before repeating. Kurt remained where he was, that feeling was swirling in his chest again.
"Project runway, season seven, not six." Elliot leant a hip against the sink and folded his arms. "Why don't you want me in your band?" his voice was gentle, curious, dare he think….
"Like I said, not a good fit." Kurt stood his ground.
"And what sort of fit were you going for?"
"I don't know yet, I'll know it when I see it."
"A band name might help."
"Wouldn't want to rush finding a name or else we might end up with something dumb like Starchild."
There was that funny feeling again, coiling itself in Kurt's gut, was it hate? Was it the satisfaction of throwing shade? Was it something else?
"At least I can come up with a name. Who holds auditions for a band with now name?"
"Who audition for a band with no name?" Kurt stepped a little closer, everything in him ready to spring. Is this how Santana felt right before a bitch slap?
Elliot wasn't moving away. God, those eyes were so annoying!
Why did eyeliner make everything look so dark and sexy?
Sexy?
No, no, no, Kurt did not just think that. What was Elliot waiting for? He was just there, staring at him again. How to make the man shut up before some other dumb comeback left his face?
"Maybe you can call it 'Starchild and his band of merry followers'." Elliot goaded with a stupid smirk.
Then the coil sprung itself from Kurt's chest and it propelled him right into Elliot. Kurt grabbed the man's stupid waist coat and tugged it to close the gap.
There was a moment, a pause where they breathe din each other's breath, their noses pressed, then that moment broke with a crash of lips.
Their kiss was rough, no gentle grazes, nothing to ease either of them into each other's touch. It was Kurt's lips trying to swallow Elliot and Elliot sticking his tongue down Kurt's throat. Kurt bit down on it, expecting a tongue piercing somewhere in there and when there wasn't, he sucked on Elliot's tongue before pushing him back for air.
"No tongue piercing."
"You sound disappointed."
"I expected more from you Starboy."
"You won't be disappointed." Elliot breathed, before latching himself back onto Kurt and shoving him back into the bathroom wall. Kurt was crushed against it, wrapping his arms around his waist, and pulling him in closer. Kurt angled his thigh to nudge between Elliot's legs, anything to torment then man in those pants. Elliot's hips thrusting forward for more friction, just like he had in his audition. Dammit, maybe Danni had been right.
"Didn't take you for the piercing type." Elliot breathed, trying to find an insult when Kurt's lips were biting down on his neck. "Unless you have some serious ink under that H&M shirt of yours."
"How dare you!" Kurt growled, pushing Elliot back, then spinning him so he was up against the sink ledge. "This is not H&M." Kurt ground his hips hard into Elliot, feeling his cock against Elliot's. Elliot threw his head back and whimpered as Kurt took control, biting and nipping at Elliot's neck, while thrusting his hips, giving an Elliot a run for his money. Kurt let the pressure build in their bodies until one of them caved in. God, he smelt good, that deep musky smell with a hint of lemongrass. What the hell perfume was that? Kurt continued to suck at the man's neck, then when Elliot whimpered he used his teeth to bite into the muscle, making Elliot growl, their hips still grinding into one another.
"Fuck." Elliot breathed and caved in first, pushing Kurt back, then spinning him around. Kurt grinned with satisfaction. "Up." He demanded hoisting Kurt up to sit on the bathroom bench. Kurt hooked his legs around Elliot's waist. From this angle it was far easier to run his fingers through Elliot's hair. He seemed to like that, and so Kurt dug his nails in a little harder, making Elliot gasp, the good kind of gasp. He liked it up here, on the bench, just a little taller than Elliot, having the man whimper with his fingers. He could push Elliot down between his legs if he wanted to from this position. Elliot opened his eyes and growled, turning to Kurt's wrist, and biting down hard.
"Ah!" Kurt gasped, pulling Elliot's head back.
"That's for calling me Starboy."
"Well then this is for saying my shirt is H&M." Kurt reached either side of Elliot's waste coat and pulled it open letting the buttons drop into the sink and on the floor.
"How dare you!" Elliot thrust his hand between Kurt's legs and squeezed hard. How could that feel so good and hurt at the same time? "And there is nothing wrong with H&M."
"Don't make me hate you even more." Kurt warned, now that Elliot's chest was free of that stupid waist coat, he could feel the graze of a nipple piercing under his left thumb. He flicked it through the fabric, making Elliot gasp.
"I want to fuck you so bad." Kurt said. Where the hell had that come from?
"Who said I'm going to let you?" Elliot said, tugging at Kurt's belt but never undoing it.
"Your hands say otherwise." Kurt growled, waiting for those hands to start rubbing against his cock again. Instead of waiting he reached down and grabbed Elliot, waiting to feel what was hiding there.
"It would give you far too much satisfaction. Maybe I just want to fucking tease you." Elliot groaned, eyes narrow. Was this what hate sex was going to be like? God, Kurt wanted it bad, he could just imagine them gripping, wrestling, biting.
"You think you can satisfy me? That's big talk. I have huge standards." Kurt punctuated his words,
"Oh, everything about me is big, Kurt." Elliot gripped Kurt's hands and lowered them down his flank to the bulge of his cock just to prove he wasn't lying. "I bet you were hard all through that performance."
"Who swings on a chandelier?" Kurt tried to gauge exactly what Elliot was hiding in his pants. Did he have any more piercings?
"Avoiding the question." Elliot hummed. Kurt continued to avoid the question by biting Elliot's lower lip and sucking, making the boy moan and stroke Kurt harder over his pants. "Baby if you keep sucking my lip like that, I'll have to put you on your knees." Elliot growled.
"I'll fucking swallow you whole." Kurt began to fumble with Elliot's belt. Who was this person and what had he done with Kurt? Who even spoke like that? Where did this sex demon come from? All he knew was that he wanted to wreck Elliot, fucking make him weak at the knees, make him whimper and beg. He hated him so much, he just wanted to put him on his knees and fuck his face shamelessly.
"Kurt! Kurt! Are you still in here?" Santana's voice carried through the corridor outside, then there was the swing of the first bathroom door. Kurt pushed Elliot into the cubicle and leaped down of the basin ledge, hiding his throbbing erection against the bathroom sink.
"There you are! Ugh, why are there buttons all over the floor?" In the mirror Kurt could see Elliot's feed disappearing as he sat on the toilet seat, the door closed just in time.
"Yes Santana?" Kurt said, remaining as composed as he could with his hair dishevelled. He turned the tap on and splashed his face, hoping he didn't look to flustered. Santana's brow furrowed but didn't say anything.
"Danny and I have decided on a band name and we don't care if you like it or not."
"Ok."
"No objections."
"No, whatever." Kurt splashed more water on his face. He would agree to anything if it meant Santana got the hell out of here. Can his erection just go away by now?
"And Starchild is in the band."
"Fine."
"Fine? Just fine! No sassy come back?"
"You'll just slap me again."
"Daim, if I had know slapping was so effective on you, I would have done it more in high school. I'll give Elliot a call now." Santana got out her phone and began to dial.
"No, no." Kurt begged, "Outside, you shouldn't be in the men's toilets anyway." Kurt basically spun Santana around and pushed her out of the bathroom just as she was about to press dial.
As the door closed, Kurt could hear a chuckle from the one occupied cubicle.
Fucking Starchild.