Chapter 21: Hair
"It's time." Kurt tried to look sympathetic, but he couldn't quite pull it off. He was personally offended by Puck's Mohawk, and he would use any excuse he could think of to talk Puck out of the appalling blemish on an otherwise perfect body. "You'll totally blow your college interviews if you show up looking like an extra from a slasher movie circa 1970."
Puck knew exactly how Kurt felt about his hair or, rather, the lack of his hair. It gave him a warm thrill, a melted molasses feel deep in his gut to know that Kurt was with him despite a hairstyle he absolutely loathed! Every time Kurt ran his fingers through the strip of hair bisecting his skull, it was proof that Kurt cared, cared about the real him, the person inside his admittedly all-kinds-of-hot body. "You just want me to ditch the hawk."
"With a passion!" Kurt never lied to Puck. "It makes my back teeth ache with how much I want you to grow your hair out." He leaned into Puck and spoke low next to his ear. "I dream about threading my fingers through your hair and grabbing fistfuls, pulling hard as you suck me off."
"Fuck!" Puck jerked his head back staring at his boyfriend.
"Mr. Puckerman! I realize that the library is a foreign environment for you, but I believe even you understand the concept of decorum." The librarian hissed the words in a savage whisper, her glasses slipping down her nose as she glared at Puck.
His mind lost in Kurt's fantasy, Puck barely nodded at the woman. "Yeah, I get it. Sorry." Lowering his voice Puck turned back to Kurt. "I thought we had a deal, Hummel?"
Kurt nodded. "Yeah, I know. We don't play the hair card, but Noah I need you in New York with me next year." Kurt wrapped a hand around Puck's thigh under the long library table. "You have to …"
"Not that." Puck interrupted Kurt's college spiel, with a terse jerk of his chin. He could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times Kurt had said the words 'suck me off', for as much as the boy could talk, in bed, he was more about action than words. He had certainly never said those words in broad daylight, in school, in the fucking library! Kurt had Puck's attention all right, just not about college interviews. "We tell each other our fantasies Kurt."
"Of course." Kurt was stymied by the non sequitur.
"Yeah? So how come I'm just hearing about this little 'nightdream' of yours?"
Kurt hitched his chair closer to Puck's and scanned the room quickly, making sure no one was in eaves dropping distance. "I couldn't tell you that, Noah!"
"Why the fuck not?" Puck glared at the countertenor. "I told you about the 'watching the game while playing with your ass' thing. I thought you trusted me?" Puck was hurt, which, of course, translated into pissed off.
Kurt had to smile. A pissed off, fire-eyed Puck could still send the McKinley student body running for the nearest exit but Kurt knew that his Noah was behind the threatening mask. "I trust you, Noah." Kurt set his hand in Puck's and traced a soothing finger over the pulse point in his boyfriend's wrist. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want to use sex to manipulate you."
The fire in the dark eyes glowering at Kurt banked itself as Puck thought that through. His mouth tipped into a smile, and he shook his head in disbelief. "You hate my hair."
Kurt grinned. "I do, oh, I so do!"
"You've been dissing the hawk since we got together, before we got together."
"No, I haven't. Not since we got together. I haven't said anything."
"Right! What about all those pictures you cut out of magazines and left in my locker? What about trying to enlist my mother in your war on the hawk?" Puck ran his hand over his Mohawk, petting it, making sure it was still there.
"I didn't enlist your mother, she enlisted me!" Kurt smirked at his boyfriend. "And we agreed to not say anything about each other's hair, there was no small print about visual aids."
Puck turned his chair to face Kurt's. He opened his legs and tugged Kurt's chair closer, until Kurt's legs were between his own. "You tried everything, except, the one thing that was guaranteed to make me do it." Staring into sea-green eyes, Puck pressed his legs together, squeezing Kurt's thighs.
Kurt shifted in his seat, his cock hardening in his tight jeans, but he didn't take his eyes off Puck's.
"I don't know if that makes you the most honorable man on the fucking planet or the biggest idiot in the world." Puck slid one knee along Kurt's thigh.
Kurt tossed his head, and channeled the ice-queen he had perfected over the years. "Obviously, I'm the most honorable man on the planet."
Puck laughed; a low rumble that tightened the muscles in Kurt's stomach. "Obviously!" He sat back in his chair and tipped his head, conceding victory to Kurt. "You win. I'll ditch the do."
"Noah!" Kurt breathed Puck's name out in a soft sigh, afraid to hope.
Puck rubbed the brush on top of his head. "I'll just shave it all off."
"And then you'll let it grow, right?" Excitement bubbled in Kurt's voice, the words coming out in his high soprano range.
"You owe me, Hummel." Puck was determined to try and maintain some kind of balance of power in their relationship. He was not going to be anyone's lap dog, even a crystal-eyed, slender magician of a boy who could suck his soul out through his cock.
Kurt spread his legs apart, forcing Puck's open and slid his hand up Puck's inner thigh. "I always pay my debts."
"Kurt?" Burt's voice called down the staircase to Kurt. "Mo … Puck's here."
Kurt turned from his laptop to watch Puck clear the last steps into his room. "Oh my god!" He stood up slowly, staring at Puck.
Puck stopped at the bottom of the staircase, ducked his head and pushed his hands into his pockets, curling into himself, trying to disappear. "I look like a cancer victim."
"You don't." Kurt crossed the room to his boyfriend. "You look," Kurt grinned. "Very butch."
"Butch?" Puck's hands came out of his pockets, and slammed into Kurt's chest, pushing him backwards towards his bed. "Butch!"
Kurt laughed as Puck pushed him down onto the bed. "I meant macho!" He held his arms up, trying to keep Puck off him. "Like Vin Diesel only better looking."
Straddling Kurt, Puck smirked down at his boyfriend. "And younger."
Sliding his hand out from under Puck's, Kurt reached up and ran his fingers gently over Puck's newly bald head. "It looks good, Noah. Really."
"Yeah?"
Kurt nodded. "Yeah." He pushed against Puck's biceps and Puck obligingly rolled over onto his back, taking Kurt with him. Kurt leaned over Puck and pressed kisses onto his chin, the bridge of his nose, and his eyebrows. "Yeah." Kurt crawled higher over Puck's body, and laid his cheek over Puck's naked skull, turning his head to lick and kiss over the smooth skin.
Puck smiled as he ran his hands up the back of Kurt's thighs and spread them over his ass. "You know you're kissing my bald head, right? Pervert!"
Kurt sat back on his heels. "You looking for deviant, Noah?" His legs on either side of Puck's hips, Kurt scrunched back a bit. He unsnapped, unzipped and pulled Puck's already interested cock out of his jeans. Wrapping both hands around the length, he started a slow, sure pump.
Puck grunted as Kurt's hands worked his shaft. "That feels fucking awesome Kurt, but, it's not exactly deviant."
Kurt nodded. "Not yet it's not." He moved his hands in a mini-tag team, one following the other up, gliding over the crown and sliding back down again. He gathered drops of pre-cum, slicking the ever faster, tighter glide of his hands. Leaning down, he licked a line over the head, a teasing stroke before sucking Puck into his mouth.
"Fuck!" Puck's hips lifted off the bed and his hands locked around Kurt's waist, under his shirt, fingers digging into the pale skin.
Kurt used tongue, and lips and heated, wet suction until he felt tension coil through the body beneath him. With one last lick into Puck's slit he pulled off, his hands still fisting each other over Puck's length. "Go, Noah. I want to see you spill."
Puck looked at the flush on Kurt's face, the heat in his eyes and his body answered for him.
Mouth slack and breaths still rasping past a hammering pulse, Puck watched as Kurt raised his ejaculate coated fingers, a satisfied smile tilting at the corner of the countertenor's lips.
Kurt traced his wet fingers over Puck's skull. He drew designs written in cum and smirked at his boyfriend. "Deviant enough for you?"