Catalyst
Chapter 19
By Dani J.
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Summary: Kurt and Blaine have decided to just be friends and the dapper boy realized he really missed Dalton Academy so he's gone back. No Klaine-bashing is intended, it just wouldn't have worked for this fic. However, Kurt has an admirer in a new kid… and Puck isn't happy at all but doesn't seem willing to step up.
Disclaimer: I own nothing whatsoever. Blame RM and company for this unfairly attractive and addictive group of characters. Well, except for my cute, original character, Kristopher.
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Last chapter: Santana was not happy with this development at all and come the next day, she was going to talk to that Kristopher guy. Between the two of them, they would be able to come up with a way to get Puck out of Lady Hummel's clutches. There was no way that skinny, whey-faced boy was going to flip her personal 'joyride'. She might have feelings for Britt but a girl with her appetites couldn't afford to let someone of Puck's talents slip through her fingers.
No, Kurt had to be taught not to play uninvited in other people's sandboxes… and Britt would simply have to deal.
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"Mmmm, Noah, we have to stop," Kurt's voice sounded drugged as Noah placed soft, drugging kisses up his neck until he got to his jaw. Noah hummed in agreement but didn't stop, his lips moving along the faint stubble he found so fascinating.
Kurt had the smoothest skin but at that hour of the evening, he showed signs that he was, indeed a boy, and one who needed to shave every day.
Noah couldn't get over how much of a turn on the stubble was to him; never having been with a boy before, this was still new and definitely exciting. He felt Kurt squirm under him and knew the boy was reacting to the feel of his hard on making itself felt between the two layers of denim.
"Mmmm, I don't wanna," he murmured now before dragging his lips over to Kurt's. The kiss started light as he nipped at the full bottom lip but as Kurt opened up for him he couldn't resist dipping into the sweet heat.
Kurt slid his hands up Noah's back and then down to cup the surprisingly round ass and he squeezed firmly, giggling as Noah's gasp was muffled by their kiss. He smirked as Noah pulled back and stared at him with wide, lust-blown eyes.
"God, Kurt, you're so pushy, I had no idea," he said now, gazing down into the heated blue eyes staring back at him unrepentantly. Noah was used to being the aggressor – well, except when he was with Santana who was known to leave both bite and claw-marks. Now he was with a boy who looked deceptively demure but who was strong enough to actually flip him over when they made out.
It was a massive turn on and now Noah ground his still-hard cock against Kurt's, watching smugly as Kurt's eyelids fluttered down to half-mast and the color in his cheeks deepened.
Making love to Kurt involved a series of firsts for Noah. First off, he was freaking in love with the boy and wasn't that a joke. Puck was famous for doing anything in skirts that was willing; now he found himself living and breathing for Kurt's taste and touch and attention.
Second, he was really getting used to this boy-on-boy thing; this was a development that should have freaked him out more but damn, it was the hottest thing he'd done in a long time.
Kurt didn't have a vast amount of experience, having only been with gel-head and he apparently had not been very adventurous. What he lacked in experience he more than made up for in enthusiasm and Noah was the very happy and satisfied recipient of Kurt's formidable focus.
Noah grinned now as he leaned down to mouth at Kurt's long, smooth neck. There was no part of Kurt that he didn't like; even the elfin ears he thought were cute. The eyes, the lips, the skin, the hips – everything was gorgeous in Noah's eyes. As he slid his hands up into Kurt's hair now, he thought that he would never ever tease him again about all the cosmetics he used and the time he spent in getting ready.
Kurt had a pristine, glossy beauty that appealed to the artist in Noah's soul and not for the first time he thought that Kurt could teach those Cheerios a thing or two about being sexy.
The silence between them was comfortable as Kurt was becoming used to the way Noah would sometimes go away into his head before returning to Kurt with a dreamy smile and luscious kisses. He was forever grateful that Puck was simply a façade that Noah donned whenever he thought it necessary and wasn't the real person at all.
In fact, his dad had surprised Kurt one day by making that very same observation, and Kurt had blushed in pride at the ensuing comments.
"Your boy isn't really the idiot he likes to pretend he is, right?" Burt had launched this comment out of the blue it seemed while Kurt was preparing dinner one evening. He'd looked up in surprise at his dad, his hands pausing in their task. Finally he shook his head, knowing that his face was warmer than it had been a few seconds before.
"No, not really. I think he started doing that round about when he got that haircut." He continued washing the lettuce and moved on to finish prepping the salad that was a permanent part of every dinner, ever since his dad's frightening heart attack.
Burt grunted and folded the newspaper he'd been reading while he waited for Carole to come home. God forbid that he should actually help Kurt get dinner ready, the boy thought, smirking as he moved about the kitchen. He'd made a huge lasagna with ground turkey substituting for the beef although his dad didn't need to know that. The garlic bread was sliced and waiting on the counter to be popped into the oven near the end of the lasagna's cooking time and shortly after Carole was to come home.
Kurt smiled to himself as he worked, his mind on Noah as usual and now on his dad's comment.
"I'm hoping that he'll eventually be confident enough to not need the Puck persona. What do you think?" He smiled at his dad's interested gaze and turned to lean against the counter.
This was a new thing, too; his dad had never felt the need or perhaps had not been interested enough to talk to him about Blaine. Yet, here he was, willing to discuss Noah, and Kurt was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Burt sipped at the water – that Kurt had substituted his beer for – and then looked at Kurt. The look in Kurt's eyes when he talked about Noah was a revelation. The boys might only be 17 – soon to be 18, he realized – but they were not giddy kids. Kurt, unfortunately, was always a little too serious for a kid and Burt knew why that was. You lived in a small, narrow-minded community like Lima, you soon came to realize that 'different' was synonymous with 'wrong'. Neither he nor Kurt went to church – Kurt went so far as to say he didn't believe in God – because there were only so many times you could stomach people looking at you as if you ought to burn in hell for raising a 'deviant' child.
God or not, hell or not, Burt loved his son who had grown up to be a kind, beautiful person and he was happy that Kurt hadn't had to wait until college to find someone to love – and who loved him back. He'd had Blaine, yes, but Burt had never felt the kid was right for his son. Kurt needed someone to match his courage and his strength, not someone who would hold him back. He'd heaved a sigh that Kurt had not appeared to be devastated when they decided to go back to being just friends.
Now he watched his son almost bloom before him as he waited for his observations on the boy he was in love with… and Burt had no doubt that it was love.
"Puckerman's a good kid, I think. I know my opinion doesn't matter, Kurt, but you should hold on to him." He held up a hand as Kurt was about to interject, continuing in a firmer tone. "Look, it's not going to be easy for either of you, not here in Lima. Too, you kids are going to have disagreements and stupid quarrels, the usual stuff. I don't want you walking away, though, without hearing him out, okay?"
"Da-ad!" Kurt's outraged voice echoed through the kitchen. "It takes two, you know!"
"Yeah, yeah," Burt conceded but he continued, his voice a little louder to drown out Kurt's mutters. "You can be a bit arrogant, Kurt; that boy's so tied up over you that you could really hurt him. I'm telling you, don't be too hasty – even when you think you've a right to be angry. That's all I'm sayin'."
Kurt huffed a bit and then calmed down before looking at his dad sheepishly, his cheeks flushed now for a different reason. He knew he could fly off the handle easily and what his dad said was true; he was a bit arrogant. What many people didn't realize was that he behaved that way to shield himself from hurt or to hide the hurt from unsympathetic eyes. He knew there were people who loved to see blood from their attacks, verbal and otherwise. He'd lived in this town long enough to know that unpleasant truth.
He sighed now and went over to hug his dad, lifting the ever-present cap to drop a kiss on the bald head. "I know you're right and I'm sorry. I promise to at least listen to him, okay?"
Burt looked at his son, taking in the lovely eyes that were a legacy from his mother and sighed too. "You know, my gram used to say a thing that I always thought was funny but true: 'God gave us two ears and one mouth. We need to listen twice as much as we speak.'"
Kurt stared at him before the corner of his full pink lips twitched and a dimple appeared in one flawless cheek. However, he nodded before sauntering back to check the timer on the oven. "Message received, dad, loud and clear," he said before bursting into chuckles.
Burt smiled at him before shaking his head. "Hey, I'm going to wash up; Carole should be here any minute."
As he left the kitchen Kurt called after him, a slightly peeved tone to his voice: "Hey, it would have been nice if someone set the table for me!"
His only answer was a scoffing sound from his dad and he turned back to the oven after grabbing his mitts. Men, he muttered, conveniently forgetting his own gender for the moment.
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Brittany S. Pierce was blonde, gorgeous, athletic … and in love with her best friend. Said best friend was at this moment lying beside Britt, sweat drying on her satiny caramel skin while she purred into the cellphone she'd just taken up.
Brittany had no idea who Santana was calling; she only knew that she didn't like the gleam in Santana's eyes. When she got like that it meant that she wasn't thinking about them, she was plotting to hurt somebody. Brittany hoped it wasn't somebody she liked because that would make her even sadder. When she was sad, she could barely hear Lord Tubbington's thoughts and for a cat he had really good ideas… most of the time.
She got up from the bed and went into her en suite, deciding a shower would calm her down as making love with Santana hadn't. Usually, Santana's sweet lady kisses made her feel happy and special but she got the feeling just now that Santana's mind was somewhere else. She sighed as she adjusted the temperature of the shower spray and then stepped in.
Using her favorite shower gel and the natural sponge loofah Lord Tubbington had advised her was best for her skin, she soaped herself languidly, hoping that when Santana ended her call, she would come and join her. Kisses and playtime in the shower were some of her favorite things to do. Of late, though, Santana didn't seem to want playtime as often as she did. Maybe Lord Tubbington could tell her how to get Santana's attention back on her.
She heard Santana's abrupt laugh just seconds before the beautiful Latina joined her in the shower cubicle. Brittany sighed and relaxed into the slender but strong arms, letting her back rest against Santana's luscious breasts. Okay, maybe things were not as serious as she thought if Santana was still here, and a smile came over her face.
However… "I just talked to Kristopher Marshall… you know who that is, sweetie?"
Brittany felt her heart fall into her stomach but she nodded yes. "The tall pretty boy who likes my dolphin? Owww!"
Santana shushed her and then apologized vaguely for the way her arms had subconsciously tightened around the slender blonde.
"Yeah, well your dolphin's kinda overstepped his bounds. I'm going to get Kris to make him back off."
Brittany turned in Santana's arms and stared down at her best friend and lover. "Please, San, please don't hurt Kurt; he's been so unhappy, now he's bright again… because of Puck."
Santana scoffed, her eyes hardening. "Oh, baby, you don't understand, I know. Kurt needs to be taught a lesson. Puck is mine… I mean, he's ours, right? You remember how you love to ride his joystick, right?"
Brittany nodded, her wet blonde hair flopping back and forth, but she wasn't finished yet. "I know, but he belongs to Kurt, now. This is going to be bad, San; please don't try to break them up. Promise?"
Santana stared at her and then, with a faint smirk on her face she appeared to agree. "Okay, if it upsets you that much, I won't hurt them. I'll just have a talk with Kristopher and leave everything up to him. After all, he loves Kurt, too, right?"
Brittany looked vaguely confused, which is what Santana had been banking on. "Uhm, yeah, but Kurt loves Puck and I love Kurt… Kris should leave them alone."
Santana shook her head and softened the look in her eyes. Pulling Brittany closer she ran lush lips over the girl water-dewed skin before pulling back. She loved the way Brittany's pink nipples hardened whenever she touched her but the girl would never be a Rhodes Scholar.
"Look, baby, suppose someone else loved you and wanted to take you away from me… Wouldn't you want me to fight for you?"
The confused air only increased but Brittany finally nodded and Santana grinned in triumph.
"Well then, that's what Kris is going to do! He's going to fight for Kurt and I'm going to fight for Puck. Remember, he was ours first, right?"
Brittany's head was beginning to hurt. All she wanted was for Santana and her to be happy again, to make love in her big pink bed in her pink bedroom. She didn't want anyone to get hurt and she loved the boys, especially Kurt, whose lips were the softest boy lips she'd ever kissed. Still, she nodded at Santana because she wanted all this talk to end.
"Yes, San, I understand."
They washed each other, managing to get in another round of loving as usual and when Brittany was lying beside Santana again, she turned on her side, staring at Lord Tubbington. If she could manage it somehow, she would get Lord Tubbington to get a message to Kurt.
She loved Santana but everyone knew that hurting dolphins was the worst thing in the world.
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Kristopher Marshall was a young man with a problem. Actually, he had two problems: Noah Puckerman and Kurt Hummel.
He sat by himself in one of the courtyards that was placed strategically on the exterior of the boxy school building and waited for the person who had summoned him there. He knew the girl was a Cheerio and that she was rumored to be dangerous – going so far as to wear razor blades in her hair he was told – but he knew nothing else about Santana Lopez.
He glanced down at the note – 'Meet me in the Science dept. quad - 2:30. Need to talk re: Puckerman.' – and then crumpled the paper that had been obviously torn from a binder.
He looked at his watch, noting it was nearly time, and as he looked up he barely stopped himself from jerking back. The Latina was standing about two feet away from him, an odd gleam in her nearly black eyes.
Kris nodded his head and then cleared his throat, genuinely curious as to what she wanted to talk about. She had been there when he'd embarrassed himself with one of the cheesiest songs ever, singing it to Kurt who was obviously more into Puckerman than himself. He hadn't wanted to see the pitying looks he was sure he'd receive so he'd left right after finishing the song. No offense to Blunt but that was one of the most depressing songs he'd ever sung and he still wondered why he'd chosen it. Well, apart from it being appropriate, that is.
Santana watched the boy for a few seconds before finally closing the few feet and taking a seat across from him. He nodded at her and she began: "I thought you had balls when you first came here."
Kris gaped at her opening volley, unable to believe the words the girl had just uttered. The look on her face was challenging though and he realized she expected him to convince her that, yes, she had not been mistaken and he did, indeed, have balls.
He decided to take a leaf out of her book and plastered an equally challenging look on his face. "And what is it to you whether I have them or not?" and he quirked an eyebrow at her.
She scoffed, looked away and then back at him, leaning toward him as her tone intensified. "Then what was that shitty song you sang to Ladylips, huh?" The look in her eyes was so fierce he almost recoiled. "I could have done better and gotten them to believe I loved Hummel myself!"
Kris sat back and looked closely at her. Her nostrils were flared and she seemed really angry about something. She didn't know him, didn't like him and from the way she sounded, she didn't like Kurt much, either. So, what was this all about, he wondered. Why did she care that he'd come off like a wimp in that pseudo-contest between him and Puckerman?
"What's this about, Lopez? How are you a part of my business?"
"Because it is my business, too!"
He stared at her, confused, but decided to wait and hear where she was going with this. Either that or he was sitting with a crazy person.
Santana took a calming breath, smoothed a hand down her pony and then looked back at the boy before her.
"Puckerman is my toy, you see. Whenever I needs me some Y-chromosome loving, he's the go-to guy around here. I'm sure you must have heard what a stud he is?"
Kris's eyes narrowed and a faint look of disgust flashed in them before he looked neutrally at Santana. Ah, now the other shoe drops, he thought to himself, smirking in his mind. Lopez was miffed because Kurt had apparently taken something she thought of as hers. He shook his head slowly and allowed a small lift to shadow the corner of his mouth. Not a smile or smirk as such, but just enough of a movement for her to realize he had her number.
"Yeah, I've heard the rumors but I'd dismissed them, actually. Puckerman doesn't seem like all that to me."
Santana froze – was he dismissing the seriousness of this situation? – and then relaxed. Maybe if she painted a fairly lurid picture for this clown, he would understand what was at stake.
"I'll let you off easy because you're new in town. But give a listen to Auntie Snix and she'll tell you a story about a boy with an insatiable appetite for… sex."
By the time she'd got to the last word, Santana's voice was a purr. There was no one else in the quadrangle given that it was fairly late in the school day. Kris felt an involuntary twitch at the host of possibilities suddenly rearing their skanky little heads at the Latina's lascivious tone. He cleared his throat but nodded that he was listening.
Santana swung around on the concrete bench in such a way that the sinfully short Cheerios skirt barely covered her modesty. Well, that was moot as she now decided to cross her long, smooth, caramel-colored legs.
Kris's eyes flickered down to them and then back up to the way she licked her smiling lips, a faraway look in her eyes as she began to speak.
"Noah Puckerman has one of the most beautiful male bodies it has been my pleasure to… pleasure."
Kris's eyes were riveted to the flashes of her pink tongue as she spoke.
"Don't think he works out in that gym just for football practice. Oh, no; there's many a Cheerio and MILF in this town who have had the pleasure of having him hot and hard and sweaty between their knees. That piece of meat he has between his legs is not for show, all glorious eight inches of it."
She paused to breathe deeply for a couple of seconds and then: "That boy fucks like the devil… and he can go all night. Now, I likes me some of the softer flesh of my sisters, okay, but I could never give up entirely on Puck's gifts. I still get wet, just thinking of some of the things we did in the janitor's closets or locker rooms on this very campus. Mmmph!"
Here she sighed and Kris gulped, noting that her cheeks were a little redder than before and her breath was coming a little faster. She was also squirming a little in her seat and, if he was not mistaken, she was clenching her thighs together rhythmically. Oh, my God, she's getting off on all this! His mind went hazy for a second until her sharp voice brought him back.
"Now, for some ungodly reason, my – Lima's – sex shark has decided to flip the switch and play for the other team. I don't know what he – or you, for that matter – sees in Hummel but it has to end here. Well, come to think of it, Hummel's ass is to die for… but," and she shakes her head as if to stay focused, "it falls to me to correct this situation and I thought that you, as someone with a vested interest in the outcome, could help me."
Kris hoped he wasn't gaping at her; it felt as if he was gaping but he couldn't tell because he was also kind of numb. He had never heard a girl or even woman talk the way she just had and he needed a few seconds to get his head back in the moment.
Finally he squeaked out: "But Kurt looks as if he's more into Puckerman than me. What do I do about that?"
"Jesus, Marshall, do I have to do all the thinking?!" Her voice was loud and harsh and Kristopher flinched involuntarily.
"NO! But what do I do now because I just conceded defeat when I sang that song and left the choir room! How do I come back from that?"
"Grovel, punk! What is wrong with you boys? Christ!" She huffed and folded her arms across her chest, all signs of the sultry, dreamy-eyed Latina vanished. "Grovel, suck up to him; let him know that you'll NEVER give him up. He's enough of a girl and egotist to get off on that shit!"
He sat back and looked at her with a considering gaze. Hmmm, maybe she had a point. He knew that deep down Kurt was a romantic and he knew, too, that things had not progressed very far with Puckerman. In fact, it was Kris's own arrival that had provided the catalyst for the change in Puckerman's view of Kurt. For some reason, he had been the one to provide the spur, not the previous boyfriend, and now Kris was being challenged to get Kurt back.
Could he do it? Could he swallow his pride and beg Kurt to give him a chance again?
He didn't know. He was a pretty proud guy and he'd never actually had anyone turn him down before or choose someone else over him. It was a new experience and it had thrown him for a loop. Now he looked at Santana who was watching him with a scary little gleam in her eyes and he knew the answer.
"Yes, okay, I'll do it."
"Yes," Santana crowed, leaning towards Kris as if she wanted to give him a congratulatory high-five. Thank goodness, she didn't. "I knew you had real balls hiding somewhere! The way you walked into this school, set your sights on the Ice Princess and just went for it; I knew you were different."
Something inside of Kris cringed at her words but he couldn't back down now. He would make a play for Kurt again because, after all, they say all's fair in love and war. If Puckerman wasn't up to the battle, he'd have to leave the field and Kurt was the prize that Kris wanted. Thanks to Santana, they'd both end up getting what they wanted.
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TBC
