Notes: I try to avoid actually naming places that I've never been to, because no amount of research can compare to walking around in person. Instead I usually just make things up. So... if there is actually a Cedar Crest in Lima, it's not a place I knew existed and I apologise for any indiscrepencies.
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The restaurant was Italian, and somewhere they'd been before. Noah's generous tipping had apparently gone a long way to the staff getting over the oddity of seeing them together... Though Kurt was just waiting for the day that someone from school got an evening job as a waiter. If that happened he wasn't going to explain himself at all. He'd let them work out what Kurt was doing with a hot older guy all on their own.
Their table for two was set with a white tablecloth, close enough to the window that they could people-watch while waiting for their food. Noah had slipped a shoe off almost as soon as he'd sat down and at the moment had his foot rubbing gently against the inside of Kurt's ankle. "I want to take you back to New York for the weekend," he said, seemingly out of the blue.
Kurt blinked at him in surprise, his face flushing. "I... I have school tomorrow. And my dad..."
"Won't even notice," Noah finished easily. "I've seen your stuff in the house, you're practically moved in. You told me yourself you stay the night there half the time. You should just move the fuck in properly."
Kurt bit his lip. He could see the wisdom in the suggestion. His home with his dad was awkward and their time together strained. If he was ever actually home for them to eat dinner together it was always in silence, or with stilted conversation that only reminded Kurt of how distant their relationship really was. On the other hand the house Noah had bought was decorated to their shared taste. It was comfortable, and he felt more like himself than when he was at home. "Yes," Kurt said finally, sounding much more confident than he felt. "I think I will."
Noah reached across the table to take Kurt's hand. "Come with me to New York?"
"Alright," Kurt agreed. After all, if he was moving out of home then he was as good as independent. He could make decisions like that now. He didn't need to ask permission to let his boyfriend take him on a trip to New York.
Kurt had no idea how or when the plans were made, but sometime between leaving the restaurant and going to bed with Noah there was suddenly a spot for him on the same flight that the older man was taking. Kurt packed a small bag, distracted by the way Noah kept idly brushing against him until he finally snapped and said that if Noah wanted him to actually go with him tomorrow he'd better stop teasing and let him pack, dammit!
Noah had backed off with a smirk, only to undress and lie naked on the bed as a silent, sexy distraction.
By the time Kurt was finished packing his bag he was hard, his erection pressing tight against the front of his pants. "You are a bad, bad man," Kurt glared at Noah, who just grinned at him in reply.
Kurt undressed, aware of Noah's eyes on him, watching every move. He felt shy, but powerful at the same time. He let his shirt drop to the floor and placed his hands at the fly of his pants. He stopped, bit his lower lip, and gave Noah a coy, flirtatious glance.
Noah already had a hand wrapped around himself, pulling on his cock as he watched the boy undress. Kurt dropped his pants and let them pool around his ankles before he stepped out of them and walked towards the bed. He felt a little silly crawling across it, but the way Noah looked at him more than made up for it. He kissed the inside of Noah's calf, the top of his thigh just above the knee, the crease of his hip. He let Noah's hand tangle in his hair and push him down, the man's other hand holding his cock in place for Kurt to kiss.
Kurt flicked his tongue out first, just a tiny tease before he closed his lips over the head of Noah's cock. He sucked softly, his hands braced against olive-skinned, muscular thighs. He could feel the movement of Noah's hand stroking the shaft, and when he opened his eyes he looked up through his lashes to see the man looking down at him.
"Lick it, baby," Noah murmured, his voice making Kurt's skin break out into excited goose bumps. "Remember? Use your tongue..."
Kurt obeyed, flattening his tongue against the flesh in his mouth and exploring its shape. He closed his eyes again, memorising Noah by taste and feel. The muscles under his hands shifted, legs spread further apart to give Kurt more room to settle between them. He could smell sweat, and cotton, and Noah's cologne - breathed in deep through his nose and moaned softly without meaning to.
Noah shivered. The movements of his hand became faster, rougher. Kurt knew what was coming but didn't pull away. He relished the bitter taste on his tongue, swallowed it down and waited for Noah's hand to fall away before he pulled back and licked his lips.
"Like a baby sex god," Noah said, his voice coming out like a purr. Kurt climbed into his lap and kissed him, whimpered softly when the man's large hands stroked over his body.
He had no idea where or how Noah got the lube, but when one of Noah's fingers worked up into his body Kurt decided he really didn't care. He cared even less when that one finger became two and Noah's other hand started stroking his cock.
He gripped the man's shoulders tight enough that was amazed that it didn't leave finger-shaped bruises, hips twitching back and forth between the two different sensations.
In a strangely cool, calculating part of him that remained separate from the constant rush of feeling, Kurt knew what this was - this rocking back and forth in Noah's lap, the man's fingers thrusting into him every time he pushed back. Training, his mind provided the word. Getting him ready for when it wasn't just fingers that Noah wanted to use on him. Getting him used to the motions, how to roll his hips and relax his muscles, thighs tense to hold his weight.
The cold part of him was grateful, knew that when it happened he'd be more than ready and much better than your average virgin. The rest of him wanted Noah to just stick it in already.
One last shove back onto Noah's fingers and Kurt came, semen spurting against the older man's stomach. Kurt slumped boneless against the chest in front of him, breathing hard against Noah's neck.
"Now look," Noah teased, lips brushing against the shell of Kurt's ear, "you messed me up."
"So have a shower," Kurt replied snippily, snuggling against the man's body. "That's what it's there for."
He could sense Noah's grin without even needing to look up and see it for himself. "Never knew anyone so bitchy after sex."
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Kurt spent the short flight from Lima Airport to New York feeling airsick, as close to curled up miserably as anyone could actually get in an airplane seat. Noah assured him that it was only because this was a small plane, and the larger ones didn't make it quite so obvious that you were actually in the air. As a consequence of feeling as sick as a dog Kurt missed most of their journey through the airport, paying much more attention to sucking on lozenges meant to settle the stomach and trying not to puke on his shoes.
Somehow he got through security and picked up his one bag from the luggage collection. Next thing he knew he'd been hustled into the back of a cab and was lying on the seat with his head on Noah's lap.
"First time flying?" The cab driver asked, looking at them in the rear-view.
Noah nodded and answered for him, a hand gently smoothing Kurt's hair away from his forehead. "Turns out he gets airsick."
"My kid's exactly the same," the cab driver replied. "The family took a trip to Hawaii last year, you shoulda seen it. Fourteen year old kid puking up his guts in coach. I never saw anyone so keen to swap for an aisle seat!"
Kurt groaned softly and hid his face against Noah's thigh. He didn't want to think about puking or flying.
He was still looking a little green when the cab finally pulled to a stop and Noah nudged him until he was actually sitting up. "This is us, Kurt," Noah told him, already digging in his pocket for his wallet. Kurt nodded absently and picked up his bag from the floor - he'd probably regret having put it there later, but for now he didn't much care. He watched Noah hand over a few large bills to the driver and hopped out of the car when the older man did. A few moments later and he was following Noah into the lobby of the most ridiculously fancy building Kurt had ever seen outside a movie.
Kurt felt rumpled and out of place. For the first time in his life he wondered whether he was really as fashionable as he felt... But then Noah was steering him into an elevator and pressing the button for the top floor, one hand kept steady at the small of the teen's back.
He looked around Noah's apartment in awe, privately satisfied to see that everything seemed to be decorated in a similar style to the house back in Lima, even if it was in different colours. The first thing Kurt did was make his way over to one of the windows to look outside at the view he'd missed on the ride in.
"So?" Noah asked, and leaned down to kiss the back of Kurt's neck. "What do you think?"
"I love it," Kurt breathed. "It's amazing." He turned to face Noah, suddenly feeling a whole lot less sick and whole lot more excited. "Can we go see a show tomorrow?"
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Kurt's short time in New York was spent entirely in Noah's presence. He dragged the amused older man shopping for an outfit to wear to the theatre, then oversaw the buying of tickets, bullied him into dining where he wanted to, and even spent a few short hours wandering around Noah's office as a 'journalism student'. (It turned out he was absolutely right about the PA, who looked at him as if he knew very well that Noah was sleeping with him but had no proof.)
Kurt was sad to see it end, and even sadder to see the plane that would take him back to Lima - and not just because he knew he was going to feel sick for the next few hours.
He sighed when he got back to the empty, Noahless house. Tomorrow Kurt had school, and his only consolation was getting to tell Mercedes all about his absolutely amazing weekend.
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Kurt rolled his eyes at the look Finn gave him when they were paired together for the duet project. "If you have some inane delusion that I may - for some ridiculous reason - be attracted to you, think again," he told the taller boy frankly, and couldn't help but be amused by the look of relief on Finn's face. "You're not my type," Kurt concluded.
"Who is your type?" Quinn asked suddenly from behind them. "We've never even seen you check out another guy at this school."
Kurt turned to see her, flanked by Santana and Brittany, all three Cheerios looking at him expectantly. "That's because my ideal guy doesn't go to this school."
"So who's your ideal guy?" Santana asked, hands on her hips.
Kurt pursed his lips, looked her over, and decided to indulge the question. "Tall, handsome," he said, "olive skin, gorgeous body. He's also wildly successful, rich, and has excellent taste."
Santana gave him a small, nasty little smirk. "Good luck finding a guy like that."
"Especially in Lima," Quinn added. She smiled sweetly at Finn. "Walk me to my car, Finn?"
Kurt let the Cheerios think they'd had the last word, but he couldn't help smirking a little to himself. "Little do they know," he muttered under his breath. He wondered what they'd think if they saw him with Noah. It would probably cause their tiny little brains to explode.
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"... and every year when the yearbook is defaced the glee club has always gotten the worst of it," Kurt finished up, already curled up in bed while he spoke to Noah over the phone. "I saw your handwriting," he added dryly, "in several of those old Thunderclaps in the library. You gave Mr. Schue a moustache and bushy eyebrows."
Noah's chuckle somehow still managed to do funny things to Kurt's stomach despite their distance. "What can I say? It's tradition."
"It's a tradition that I do not want to be a part of."
"So get them first," Noah suggested. "Grab a sharpie and draw on the popular kids."
"I don't think you're meant to encourage vandalism," Kurt replied, somewhat sceptical. "And it's behaviour like that which will lead directly to being beaten up, thrown in dumpsters, or locked into the janitor's closet with a hive of angry killer bees. At this point I put nothing past those Neanderthals."
"Kurt, baby... Just scribble all over their fat faces. If they bug you, I'll send someone to slash their tyres. I'll come over there and beat them up in person if they lay a hand on you. Seriously," Noah finished, "I will fuck them up."
"Killer bees," Kurt repeated. "Slushy facials."
"Do you want me to come down there and do it for you?"
"No," Kurt said firmly, not about to start doubting the lengths that Noah would go to for him. "I am venting to you, not asking you to come to Lima to draw on people's faces. If I want to commit an act of petty vandalism I can do it myself, thankyou."
When he hung up Kurt had absolutely no intentions to participate in yearbook vandalism. He changed his mind when he actually saw what had been done to the glee club's photo, and furtively retaliated by drawing giant handlebar moustaches on the entire football and cheerleading teams in ballpoint pen. All the while silently terrified that he would be seen and carried off by a pack of easily insulted, muscle-bound twits.
He felt strangely satisfied afterwards.
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Kurt found out that his father was dating Carole Hudson only when Finn told him about it. For a moment Kurt didn't actually believe him, but the way Finn said it had the awful ring of truth.
"Your dad wanted me to tell you that you still have some of your stuff down in the basement," Finn added, shuffling his weight awkwardly from foot to foot. "I didn't even know you'd moved out."
Kurt's mouth dropped open. He was about to tell Finn that he was mistaken, that Kurt hadn't moved out of home. Then he thought about the last time he'd actually gone home, about the last time he'd cooked dinner in a kitchen that wasn't modelled in stainless steel and marble. He shut his mouth, his protests dead on his lips. "Thankyou," Kurt said after a moment. "I'll have to remember to come and get them."
"So... you're cool with my mom dating your dad?" Finn asked.
"Why wouldn't I be?" Kurt answered airily, trying to hide the odd feeling of hurt that came with remembering that his father hadn't tried to speak to him in months. "To be honest, I haven't spoken to my father in a long time."
"Oh. Why? Did you have a fight?"
"No." It would be less painful if they had. "We're just too different. We have nothing to talk about, so we don't talk."
Fin nodded. The taller boy let the quiet go on a little longer before he confessed; "Actually, we're moving in with your dad. Into your old house. He said I could take the basement, so..."
"So, I should get the rest of my things before you move in," Kurt finished. He could feel his cheeks flush with colour and felt a sudden rush of anger. He stamped it down and put a smile on his face instead. "Do you get along with my dad, Finn?"
"Yeah," Finn replied, though his enthusiasm was dulled by the obvious awkwardness of the situation. "Burt's great. He knows a ton about old rock bands and sports. He, uh, said he'd give me a job this summer and teach me how to fix cars. It's pretty awesome..."
"I'm glad you get along," Kurt said, as politely as he could manage.
"Hey Kurt... Where do you live now?"
"Cedar Crest*," Kurt replied, naming one of Lima's wealthier suburbs. He saw no reason to lie, or to pretend he lived in some cheap little flat somewhere like other kids his age might if they moved out of their parents house. It wasn't as if anyone had cared to check up on him. "Tell my dad I'll be by to pick up my things tomorrow, and it would be much easier for all of us if they were in boxes."
"Sure," Finn said, sensing that the conversation was over. "I'll tell him..."
"Thankyou." Kurt forced another polite smile onto his face and walked away before the facade could crumble. It was true, he hadn't spoken to or seen his father in months. But it wasn't as if they'd talked a lot before then. Kurt tried to remember if Burt had ever even asked him where he was going when he started spending nights away from home. At least he was obviously happy with Finn as a replacement son, Kurt thought bitterly.
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Kurt realised that he had daddy issues sometime between dropping his messenger bag on the marble top of the kitchen counter and dialling Noah's number on the house line. It was as obvious as a slap to the face, now that he was thinking about it. Kurt felt neglected by his own father, he felt like he wasn't understood, like they never connected, like he was just a big disappointment because he'd grown up queer and fabulous instead of straight and normal. That would have been fairly average on the scale of issues, but Kurt was also dating a man eleven years older than he was. A man who provided for him financially, almost the way a parent would.
"I am so thoroughly messed up," Kurt said aloud, forgetting that he'd just dialled Noah's cell.
The call connected half way through. "Kurt?" Noah's voice piped up in his ear. Kurt nearly dropped the phone. "What's messed up?"
"Nothing," Kurt answered. He sighed and changed his mind a split-second later. "Well, actually, Finn told me today that his mother is dating my father. That they are actually moving in to my old house and I need to pick up the rest of my things before then. I didn't know... Nobody told me," Kurt finished, hugging himself around the waist with one arm.
"Baby, I'm sorry," Noah cooed soothingly. "Hold on just a second."
Kurt bit his lip. He listened to the sounds of paper shuffling, followed by footsteps and a door being closed. From the sounds of things Noah was at the office, and judging by his level of calmness (and lack of profanity) he'd probably just come back from his four o'clock get-the-fuck-out-of-the-office coffee break.
"Ok," Noah said.
"It's not that I'm upset my father has a life," Kurt started. He sat himself down on the end of the couch and curled up.
"He's a grown man, he can do what he likes with it. I'm not bothered by that. I... It's... Oh my god." Kurt raised his free hand to wipe underneath his eyes, mad at himself for his body's reactions. "Why didn't anyone tell me? Why was Finn - of all people, Finn! - the one who finally told me? My father never asked - where I went or what I did or even if I was ok, never even thought about asking, but he cares about Finn enough that he's giving him a job at the shop and taking him to sports games! It's like... he finally has the son he wanted."
Kurt was crying at the end. He pressed his face into his knees, holding his breath and willing himself not to descend into sobs. He could hear Noah's breathing, and for a while neither of them said anything.
"Did I ever tell you," Noah said finally, "about my dickweed father?"
Kurt shook his head, then remembered that there was no way for Noah to know that he had, and added a quiet; "No."
"Let me tell you about him. He was an asshole," Noah started, and Kurt couldn't help but smile a little in sympathy. "He left my mom when I was about thirteen, just lit on out, no explanations. Never looked back once. I found out later he used to hit my mom when he was drunk, and it was 'no big deal'. I didn't hear from him once in five years. Next time I heard anything from my father's side of the family it was to find out he was DOA after drunk driving and my grandmother had just kicked the bucket."
"And the moral of the story," Kurt sighed, "is parents suck."
"No. The moral is it gets better. Fuck your dad. You've got me."
Kurt thought about it for a moment. His lips turned up in a smile. "You do realise that's kind of creepy, don't you?"
He decided right then and there that if Noah ever asked him to call him 'daddy' he was going to slap the man full in the face and refuse to talk to him for a week. Lucky for him Noah's reaction was a chuckle and a; "Just don't start calling me 'dad' and we'll be fine, Kurt."
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Kurt thought he did pretty well when it came time to go to his old house and retrieve the boxes full of stuff still left from when he lived in the basement. He greeted his father cordially enough, cool and distant in a mint-green shirt and black vest combination. He'd deduced that the extra car in the driveway belonged to Carole and therefore wasn't the least bit surprised when it turned out that Finn had come over to help.
"I'm sure I'll be fine," Kurt told the other boy as he walked down the stairs to the basement. All of his furniture was still there where he left it, looking empty and sad. There were six boxes stacked at the end of the bed, each one labelled in Burt's blocky handwriting with basic words like 'clothes', 'books', and 'misc'.
"I'm going to help anyway," Finn replied, and picked up the box marked 'books'. "Your dad said it would be rude not to."
Kurt sighed. "Of course," he said, and picked up the smaller 'misc' box. He turned on his heel and carried it up the stairs and out of the house to the back of his Navigator. Thank god the car was big enough. Apparently the back seat was useful for more than just making out and the boot not just there to hold shopping bags or boxes full of costumes for the glee club.
"I can help you unpack them at your place too," Finn suggested, much too casually for it not to have been rehearsed.
"And of course you came up with that idea all by yourself," Kurt smiled at him. Why not, he thought to himself rebelliously. He could get Finn to do all of the carrying while he stayed cool in the kitchen and made himself a glass of iced tea. "Fine," he said, "but you can take your own car."
Finn agreed to those terms readily, and after a few short minutes Kurt was behind the wheel of the Navigator, leading Carole's Volvo through Lima to his house in Cedar Crest. He wondered what Finn would think of it, the neatly trimmed gardens (catered for by a gardening company), the pale peach exterior, circle driveway and tall windows. Kurt parked the Navigator close to the door and opened the boot while he waited for Finn.
"The Fabrays live about five minutes away," Finn stated, looking at the house. "This is where you live?"
"No, I thought I'd park here for the fun of it," Kurt said even as he unlocked the front door. "Wipe your shoes before you come in. I don't want to mop the floors if you track dirt all over the place."
"Does anyone else know you live here?" Finn asked as he dutifully wiped his feet on the mat outside before he followed Kurt into the parlour. Kurt glanced back at the taller boy and felt a smug satisfaction on the look of surprise on Finn's face.
"Mercedes knows," Kurt answered, breezing into the kitchen. "We hang out here when we aren't at the mall. Sometimes she comes here to practice songs for glee, the rec room has excellent acoustics." So did the main bathroom, but Kurt wasn't going to take Finn on the grand tour to show him.
"And you've been living here for months?" Finn sounded surprised. "How do you afford all this?"
"I don't think that's any of your business. The car boot is open. Why don't you make yourself useful and start bringing in those boxes?" Kurt turned back to Finn and smiled sweetly as he added; "I'll make tea for when you're done."
Finn hesitated, looked like he wanted to protest, but eventually gave in and headed back to the car. He had just finished stacking the boxes in the parlour and had reappeared in the kitchen for the promised tea when Kurt was distracted by the phone ringing.
"Tea's on the counter," he told Finn, turning to pick up the cordless, "feel free to help yourself. Hello?"
Kurt knew who the person calling would be, and wasn't disappointed. "All moved in for good?" Noah's voice purred into his ear through the phone.
"At least until I finish school," Kurt replied, aware that Finn was most likely listening in. "Finn is helping me unpack."
"I'm wearing a black three-piece suit and I've got my hand down my pants thinking of you," Noah teased, knowing it would make Kurt blush in front of the other boy.
"You're such a jerk," Kurt replied, face flushed bright red as he pictured Noah sitting in his office with his pants open. He knew full well that Noah wouldn't actually be touching himself in his office, but now the idea was in his head and he couldn't get it out again. "I'm going now. Goodbye, Noah." Kurt disconnected the call and put the cordless phone back in its place.
He turned back around to see Finn giving him an odd look. "Don't ask," Kurt told him, "you don't want to know."
"Who's Noah?" Finn asked anyway.
"My boyfriend," Kurt replied simply.
"Oh. Uh... That's great. I mean, that you have..." Finn cleared his throat and started again. "I guess I should get out of your way now. You have a cool house, Kurt. And thanks for the tea."
"Thanks for helping me move my things," Kurt said, as if Finn hadn't done all of the work.
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Kurt's current living situation was common knowledge by the end of the week. He didn't mind so much, given that it changed almost nothing. It did give him the idea that he should consider getting himself declared independent, maybe change the emergency contacts listed on his file at school.
He ignored the suggestion of parties at his house, and announced that he'd call the police if anyone 'just happened to drop by' with a keg and several friends.
The news that he had a boyfriend was less shocking, apparently, than his unofficial emancipation. Everyone just seemed to assume that he was dating someone from another school, while at the same time speculating that Mr. Hummel had kicked him out when he found out his son was a fag. Kurt wasn't sure what to say about that. It wasn't true, but he didn't know if he wanted to defend his father either. They'd never been close, Kurt reasoned, and it would be strange to start defending him when they hadn't spoken in months.
The glee kids were the only ones who seemed really interested in Kurt's mysterious 'Noah'. He answered the questions that he could without risking trouble. He could tell them when they'd met, but not how old he was. He could tell the girls whether or not he was a good kisser, but not where he lived or if he was still in school. He refused to give a last name on the basis that he didn't want the whole club stalking him and scaring him off - a barefaced lie, since he'd told Noah all about each and every one of his friends in the club and there was no way they could scare him off.
If Kurt felt at all bad about lying he hid it well, ignored it and thought about Noah's next weekend visit.
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They spent most of the weekend in bed, only emerging for meals and a quick excursion to the grocery store. Sunday evening, naked and sweaty on the bed, Kurt moulded himself against Noah's side and watched the man's face as their breathing eased.
"Why haven't we had sex yet?" Kurt asked. He flushed when Noah looked at him. "I know this is sex," he said, referring to what they'd just done, "the touching, and oral sex, and mutual masturbation. But the closest we ever get to penetration is when you use your fingers. I'd like to know why."
"Do you want to have sex, Kurt?" Noah asked him, and stroked a hand down the teen's naked back.
Kurt was sixteen years old and male. He gave Noah a dry look and arched an eyebrow as though asking him if he knew just how stupid that question really was. Noah's hands slowly started to roam, stroking Kurt's skin and brushing against all of the most sensitive points on his body.
The man rolled them, pressing Kurt back against the mattress and pinning him with the weight of his body. "Want to do it now, baby? Before I go?"
Kurt arched up against him, seeking Noah's mouth with his own. He thought about it as they kissed, imagined what it would feel like to have more than just fingers stretching him open and pushing inside of him. He wondered if it would hurt and decided that he didn't care. "Yes," he panted against the man's lips. "Please, I want to."
Despite their earlier activities he could feel it when Noah's cock began to fill, hardening against him and filling him with anticipation. Noah's lips caught his, tongue running along his bottom lip before dipping into his mouth.
Kurt spread his legs, thighs parted to let Noah's body settle in the space between them. The man's hips rocked gently against his, delicious friction between them meant to entice and arouse. Kurt moved his hands down over Noah's body, tracing the patterns of muscle that rippled under his skin along his back and sides. Somehow it felt more intimate than before, every inch of skin in contact with Noah tingling.
He pouted in protest when Noah pulled away from him, but let the man's hands guide him into a new position. "Roll over, baby," Noah instructed, his voice low and breathy, "it's easier this way."
Kurt rolled onto his stomach and let Noah's hands on his hips pull him up to his knees on the bed. He folded his arms under his head for a pillow, back arched. He was completely exposed but felt only a little nervous - he already knew what Noah thought of his body.
He felt the movement of the mattress when Noah reached for the bottle of lubricant on the bedside table. He heard the cap open and his breathing sped up. Kurt spread his legs a little wider, waiting, and after what felt like an unfair eternity he could feel one of Noah's fingers at his hole.
It was easy going in, his body opening up around the digit without complaint - they'd done this part once before today, though Kurt had been on his back at the time. It was easier to push his hips back like this, instinctively rocking back when Noah's finger pressed in. He did the same for two, and bit his lip on three, his neglected cock hanging hard and red beneath him.
"Please?" Kurt whispered, sure that his voice would crack if he tried to speak any louder.
"Ok," Noah murmured in reply, thrusting his fingers in twice more before he slowly removed them. Kurt shivered in anticipation, face pressed tight against the cushion of his forearms. He could feel Noah's weight shifting, moving closer, and suddenly he could feel the man right behind him, pressed up close enough that his body heat was like a blanket against his skin. "Ready, baby?"
"Mm-hm," Kurt replied, not sure enough of his lips and tongue's cooperation to try anything with more syllables.
One of Noah's hands settled on his lower back and something pushed against Kurt's entrance - rounded and smooth, flirting with his body with a couple of tiny thrusts that did nothing more than press against him. The next push was harder, a slow thrust that buried just an inch or two of Noah's cock inside him.
Kurt muffled a soft noise with a hand, eyes squeezed shut against the ache. It hurt, and as soon as the hurt ebbed Noah was pushing in again and sparking a new ache. Large, warm hands soothed at his hips, the heat from Noah's hands doing more to relax his muscles than the touch. By the time he could feel Noah's thighs pressed against him Kurt was panting, breathing as if he'd just run a marathon.
"You ok?" Noah's voice rumbled, closer to his ear than Kurt expected.
"Uh... uh-huh," Kurt panted after a moment, and rolled his hips a little just to prove it.
This is what it felt like, he thought as Noah began to move, gentle rolling thrusts that dragged against his insides. It felt good, he decided, the motions, the rocking movements of their bodies together. Noah's hands on his hips holding him steady, his skin on fire, cock aching to be touched. Kurt could tell that Noah was being gentle, taking it slow for their first time. He wanted to tell the man not to worry, but selfishness had stolen his voice.
Kurt wanted it slow. He wanted it drawn out. He wanted to feel every inch of the man above and inside of him. He whimpered into his arms, thinking about moving until he could reach down and start stroking himself. Noah solved the problem for him, a large, hot hand reaching around to tug on his cock in time with each thrust.
After that it was over fast. Kurt found himself pushing his hips back against Noah's thrusts and then forward into his hand, soft noises falling from his lips. His body felt tight and hot all over, and then he was coming, staining Noah's hand and the expensive duvet cover. He came down slowly from the sudden spike of pleasure, the feeling drawn out until he remembered that Noah was still thrusting into him unspent.
It took concentration to match his thrusts, pushing back with his hips and attempting to clench his muscles on the back-stroke to make it better. He must have been doing something right. Noah grunted, hips stilling briefly, then rolled his hips couple of times before slowly pulling away.
Kurt slowly dropped down from his knees, feeling his body protest all the way until he was lying on his stomach on the bed. In the wet patch he'd made on the cover, but he didn't care about that right now. Noah lay down beside him, an arm draped across his back.
"I'll miss you tomorrow," Kurt said finally, his voice muffled. He peeked up over his forearms to look at the man beside him.
Noah looked content, sated, and gave him a small smile. "Me too."
"Noah..."
"What is it, baby?"
"Can you drop off the duvet cover for dry cleaning on your way to the airport?"
Noah chuckled and rolled over. "You," he told Kurt, clearly settling down to go to sleep, "are such a bitchy little queen."