Boys Just Want to Have Fun
Puck pulled into Hummel Tire and Lube, parked in front of the sign that read 'Service' and honked his horn. The garage door opened and Kurt directed him through. How great was it that his boyfriend could do oil-changes! Puck stepped out of his truck, pulled Kurt in for a kiss. "Hey, babe"
Kurt curled his fingers into the strip of hair at the back of Puck's neck. "Hi"
Keeping one arm around the countertenor, the jock stepped back and ran his eyes over the young diva. "Nice look, Princess!" Puck grinned.
Mechanic garb wasn't exactly designer wear, but Kurt Hummel had yet to meet the outfit that he couldn't rock! He stepped back from Puck, did a slow turn, his arms outstretched. "Spring Collection 2012, Grease and Grunge."
"Looks good on you." The navy blue mechanic's cover-all flowed over Kurt's body, touching lightly at shoulder and hip, hinting at but not displaying the narrow waist and long legs. Damn! It happened every single time! Every time Puck saw Kurt covered up like this, he just wanted to un-wrap him.
Kurt jumped back, just as Puck's hand reached out to the zipper on the cover-all. "Uh-Uh. No, you don't." The countertenor swatted the guitar player's hand away.
"Puckerman" Burt's voice stopped Puck's hand in mid-reach.
"Hi, Mr. Hummel." The jock sighed and stepped away from his boyfriend.
"Oil change?" Burt still wasn't sure about this kid. He knew a lot about him, and it wasn't all good. Hell, it wasn't even mostly good: dumpster tossing, teen pregnancy, juvie. Not exactly the poster boy for the ideal boyfriend! Fortunately for the teenage delinquent, he made Kurt happy, and that's the only thing that Burt cared about. Kurt was happy, and as long as Kurt was happy, Burt would let this kid live…but he was watching him. The kid knew Burt was watching him, for all his faults, he wasn't stupid.
Kurt nodded at his father. "Yeah, we won't be long."
"No problem. Lock up when you're done."
"Sure" Kurt popped the hood on Noah's old clunker.
Burt nodded at both boys as he left the garage.
Kurt bent over the truck, tinkering with something, and really, how was Puck supposed to resist that? Standing behind Kurt, he palmed the other boy's hips. The countertenor cocked one hip sharply, pushing his boyfriend off. "Forget it, Puckerman!" The jock leaned against the hood, watching as Kurt opened the oil filler cap, placed a funnel beside it. "Make yourself useful. Get me that black pan on the bottom shelf." When Puck returned with the pan, all he could see of Kurt were legs sticking out from under the truck. "Slide it under to me." Bending down, the Titan player pushed the pan under the car. "Thanks."
Puck walked over to the garage's sound system and turned the music up. He got himself a coffee and settled in to an arm chair in the waiting area, playing poker on his phone. Twenty minutes later, Kurt slid out from under the truck. Puck finished his game and then watched as Kurt poured the new oil. "Almost done?"
"Yep." Kurt wiped his hands on a rag he pulled from his back pocket. "Start the truck up, we've got to run it for a few minutes to make sure there are no leaks." Kurt checked under the truck and gave Puck a thumbs-up. The jock cut the engine and jumped out of the truck.
Kurt washed his hands, turned and leaned against the sink, drying his hands with a paper towel. "So, what do you want to do?"
Puck smirked. "Is that a trick question?"
The Glee diva grinned at his boyfriend and slowly lowered the zipper on his cover-all, exposing a few inches of skin. The jock's eyes darkened and his smile turned predatory. As Puck walked closer, Kurt backed away. The countertenor's hand hovered over his zipper, lips turned into a teasing smile. Puck stepped forward, Kurt stepped back…and lowered his zipper another inch. "Really, Hummel? That's the way you want to play it?"
"I don't know what you mean, Noah." Kurt's voice was light and innocent, but his eyes were laughing. His hands played with the zipper and now the cover-all was open to the waist.
"You're not wearing anything under that, are you?" Puck couldn't take his eyes off that pale, perfect skin.
Kurt smirked at his boyfriend. "You'll have to find that out for yourself, Noah."
The teenager who thought he had 'all the sexual appeal of a baby penguin', no longer existed. The young man standing, oh, so casually in front of Puck, was temptation itself and he knew it. The Titan player lunged and his boyfriend turned and ran, laughter floating on the air. Kurt was fast, and agile, and he had the advantage of knowing the garage well. He sprinted and dodged and danced around cars and cement beams. Puck was always just a step too slow.
They paused, facing each other, both breathing hard from the chase. "I thought you were a 'running back', Noah. Shouldn't you be faster?"
"You have the home field advantage here, Hummel."
"Yeah, just keep telling yourself that, Noah, if it helps your ego."
The Titan jock laughed. "I'm going to get you eventually, Hummel. I have more stamina."
"Right!" Kurt dashed behind a car and into the office.
Puck raced after him, skidding into the office. He stopped, grinned triumphantly at Kurt, then closed and locked the door behind him. "Got you, Princess!"
The countertenor grabbed his boyfriend's T-shirt in his fist, and pulled him in for a kiss. "Yes, you do."
Puck broke the kiss, pulled off his T-shirt, and hauled Kurt close again. Mouths open, teeth and tongues colliding; the kiss was all heat and urgency. Puck pushed the cover-all off Kurt's shoulders. Kurt shrugged his arms out of the sleeves. Naked to the waist, arms roaming each other's backs and sides, hands marking and then soothing; the boys held each other. Kurt's cover-all was half off, hanging from his hips, held up only by the press of their bodies. "Noah!"
Puck grunted in response. He backed Kurt up against the old leather office couch, pushing him backwards and following him down, their lips never breaking contact. The force of the impact, as the boys hit the couch together, broke the kiss. The jock stared at the boy beneath him. Skin flushed, hair tousled, eyes darkening to grey. "You're beautiful!"
Kurt blushed. "You always say that."
"And I'm always right." Puck held himself up with one arm while he trailed bites and kisses down Kurt's neck and across his chest.
Kurt shifted his legs until they were on either side of Puck's hips. He sank both hands into his boyfriend's ass, kneading through the jeans. Pelvises joined, cocks hard and hot, rubbing against each other through their pants. Both boys groaned at the friction. Puck threw his head back, and ground down into Kurt.
"Noah!" Kurt tried to wedge his fingers between their bodies. He needed to get Puck's jeans off. Puck was grinding their bodies so tightly together that Kurt couldn't get to the zipper. The diva pushed at the jock's shoulder. "Move, Noah!"
"No!" Puck pressed harder into Kurt and moaned as their cocks rubbed together.
Kurt reached up, grabbed Puck's head and pulled. "Noah, if you don't get your pants off in the next 10 seconds, you're going to have blue balls for a week."
"Dude! Harsh!" The jock jumped to his feet, hands already tugging his zipper down.
Kurt sat up, unlaced his work boots. He pulled the boots and socks off. He stood, started to push the cover-all off. "Wait, I don't have anything."
Puck was already naked, his jeans on the floor. "No problem." He snatched his jeans up, and reached into the pockets, pulling out condoms and lube.
"You carry that with you all the time?"
The jock shrugged. "Babe, I want to fuck you every time I see you. Of course, I carry stuff with me."
Kurt pushed the cover-all down and stepped out of it. He pressed himself to Puck, wrapped his arms around the jock's neck. Blue eyes smiled into brown. "Only you, Noah Puckerman, could make that sound romantic."