24. KURT
Kurt had just finished applying after-shave moisturizer on his chest when someone pounded on the loft door, loudly. At first, he thought about ignoring it, but when it became even more insistent, he gave up. He threw on a robe, leaving it hanging open to avoid lotion stains, and went to see what was going on. The building might be on fire, after all. Or worse- it might be Blaine. In that case, he was filing for a restraining order.
When he pushed open the door, Santana was standing on the other side.
"Why are you knocking my door in?" Kurt asked.
"I had to. You changed your locks." She raised an eyebrow and gave him a deliberate once-over.
Kurt didn't cover up. Whatever she had to say, it wasn't worth soaking his silk robe in detergents overnight.
"Ooooh, manscaping. Is Elliott finally getting lucky tonight?"
Kurt briefly closed his eyes and then started to push the door closed again. Santana quickly put her hand on the side to stop him.
"What are you doing here, Santana?" Kurt repeated, exasperatedly.
Santana shrugged. "I was in the neighbourhood," she said airily, but her look told Kurt was more coming, but if she didn't come straight out with it, it was probably a sensitive subject.
Kurt sighed and stepped away from the door, letting her in.
Santana walked in and looked around. Several outfits were draped over Kurt's bed, and the door to the small bathroom was still open. Warm, bodywash-scented air was wafting out. She smirked.
"Yep, something wanky is going down tonight," Santana said to herself, nodding knowingly. "I remember this grooming ritual from the weekends when Blaine would come over." She glanced over at him. "I have to say, I was surprised you and Elliott didn't seal the deal weeks ago."
Kurt opened his mouth to say something but Santana held up a well-manicured finger.
"Don't argue, I know what's going on. And what's not going on. And it's not even my Mexican third-eye here. It's been forever and Dani said the two of you haven't so much as skipped a band-practise to make out. I asked Elliott if you'd done it yet, and he said it was none of my business. So that totally means no. He looked kind of frustrated though; you shouldn't leave him hanging like that, Kurt. He might decide to-"
"No." Kurt cut her off strongly. "Don't say another word. Ah-ah! I mean it," he added as Santana looked like she was going to protest. She pressed her lips together tightly.
"I don't even know where to begin," Kurt sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "No, actually, I do." He pointed his finger at her. "First: don't ever mention Blaine in any comparison to Elliott ever again. Ever."
"Not even if it's rude and hilarious?" Santana interjected.
"Not even then. I don't want to hear it. You're a smart woman. I am sure you can think of something equally rude and hilarious about someone else."
Santana shrugged and nodded, clearly agreeing.
"Second: our sexlife really is none of your business. If you're bored, you can watch reality tv like everyone else. I know you and Dani helped to get us together, but we're not your pet project, okay? We're people."
Santana looked a little sour at that, but didn't argue.
"Third: if Elliott looked frustrated, it was because of you and your indiscreet questions. I am not leaving anyone 'hanging'. We both have jobs, college, the band. The reason we haven't skipped any of that is because we take it seriously. And if that means taking it slow because our days are long and we need our sleep at night, so be it." Kurt took a deep breath and let it out slowly to calm himself. He knew Santana wouldn't understand. But unlike in the past, where a lack of physical intimacy made Kurt doubt his partner's feelings, he knew he and Elliott were solid. He wasn't about to let her or anyone else undermine that.
"Finally: I resent your implication that he might stray if we don't have sex. Not every guy is like that."
Santana shrugged.
"Not every woman is, either," Kurt added pointedly.
Santana held up her hands in a defensive gesture. "Hey, I don't need the PSA, okay? I never have to worry about that, because I always put out on the first date."
Kurt just rolled his eyes. They'd never be on the same page when it came to that. Santana wore her sexual prowess like a badge of honor- which was her business and her right, but he'd just wish she'd stop trying to get him to do the same. So far, only Mercedes and Elliott knew about his one-night stands, and he intended to keep it that way. He wasn't ashamed, but he didn't want to brag either.
Elliott's reaction to his story had been an appropriate mixture of understanding and jealousy, and very unlike the way Blaine had tried to shame him for moving on with Adam after their break-up. Elliott's maturity and dating experience had made all the difference, and Kurt didn't regret telling him about it. Elliott had told him a little about his own dating past as well, and putting into words what they thought had worked, and hadn't worked in those past relationships could only be beneficial for their own.
"So, I was just about to-" Kurt started, pointing at the open door of the bathroom.
"We're running out of places to fuck," Santana cut him off, as she made her way to his fridge.
"Excuse me?"
"Cassie and me. So far we've mostly been doing it at NYADA-"
Kurt scrunched up his face, but Santana ignored him and continued.
"But we can only bribe the janitor to turn a blind eye so many times before he starts setting up webcams in the dance room to get in on the action, you know? And my place is basically a broom closet, plus I have the most annoyingly straight roommates ever, which is enough to throw anyone off their game…" Santana took a bottle of orange juice from the fridge and took a large sip.
"How about Ms July's place?" Kurt suggested.
Santana lowered the bottle and rolled her eyes. "Her cat hates me." Then, before Kurt could say anything, she narrowed her eyes and pointed a finger at him. "Don't you dare make a pussy joke."
Kurt let out a laugh. "I wouldn't dream of it!" He made a mental note to text all of the jokes that had just shot into his mind to Elliott later to let off steam.
"Don't smirk. This is a serious problem. If we can only meet in public places sooner or later we're going to be arrested."
Kurt shook his head. "I don't know what to tell you, Santana. Appease her...cat, work out a schedule with your roommates...find a new place?" Quietly, Kurt wondered when and where he had become Santana's go-to problem-solver (slash food bank). Probably around the time he stopped complaining to Rachel for doing the same. It did kind of put the welcome mat out there.
"You can finish that," he suggested, pointing at the orange juice. "I don't need it anymore."
He considered his next move carefully. "You know," he started, "I was thinking of having real walls put up in this place and renting out rooms again...I already have one potential tenant, but Rachel's corner is still available." He'd definitely establish a few new rules, though. And soundproofing.
Santana put the juice down and crossed her arms over her chest. "Who's the potential?" she asked critically.
Kurt shrugged a little awkwardly. "Well, Elliott's place is more of a single's pad and my place is a lot bigger…" he trailed off.
"You're moving in together?!"
Kurt wasn't sure what to make of her tone. A mixture of surprise and disgust, possibly. "Thinking about moving in together," he corrected.
"That's taking it slow?" Santana asked.
Kurt shrugged self-consciously. "It's better than getting engaged," he replied. "I mean, it'd be a try-out to see if we'd work out on a day-to-day basis. If we do, we'll probably look for a place without roommates, but until we figure out if we can live together without fighting about trivial stuff..." He frowned. "Blaine and I certainly needed that reality check."
"So you want to hold on to this place just in case, got it," Santana said, catching on.
"Exactly. I've known him for over a year, and we've been together for two months now- I think I know what I am getting into. It's not that I don't trust him or what we have, it's just...when am I ever going to find another loft like this? I don't want to give it up completely before I'm 100% sure."
Santana nodded and looked around. "I won't be able to pay much," she said.
"Well, Rachel will need a place to stay after Broadway kicks her out," Kurt joked. "If she comes crawling back, you could get a bunk bed."
"Ha. Ha. No way," Santana replied. Then she grew serious. "Thanks. I'll think about it. Even though you two are disgustingly in love, it'd be better than the straights."
Kurt nodded. "Now if you'll excuse me...I need to heat up some wax." He nodded at his groin.
Santana shivered exaggeratedly and moved toward the door. "I didn't need that mental picture. I'm going."
Kurt smiled. "Say hi to Ms July's cat for me."
"Honestly, this dialogue...and why would anyone get a tattoo there?"
"Those aren't even real sailors' uniforms. They're just crop tops with epaulettes."
"Oh my god! Is that a hemorrhoid?"
"Do you want to turn it off?" Elliott asked gently.
Kurt sighed. "Yes. I'm sorry. I thought it was going to be sexy, but apparently I still feel like a blushing sixteen year old when I try to watch porn."
Elliott chuckled. "That's ok. It wasn't doing much for me either." He looked at Kurt, sitting next to him on the couch. "Watching you, however…" he added.
Kurt rolled his eyes a little, but leaned over to kiss Elliott anyway. "Maybe we should just make up our own story to get in the mood…" he suggested.
"Hmmm. Yes," Elliott replied, licking his lips. "You did say a lot of your fantasies involved this couch…" He trailed off and ran his tongue over the edge of his upper row of teeth.
"I did," Kurt replied breathlessly, feeling his heart hammer in his throat.
"Do you want to tell me what that's all about?"
Kurt let out a long breath. Truth-time. "It's the leather." He caressed the back of the couch with his long fingers. "It's so classy. Classic, well-used but without looking dingy."
"I take good care of it," Elliott supplied.
"Mmm. I can tell." Kurt trailed his hand down and toyed with a button. "I imagine I'm naked, lying down, the leather slowly warming under my skin…"
"Naked, huh?" Elliott asked eagerly, his eyes glittering.
Kurt cocked his head. "Well, sometimes I accessorize with a scarf or a hat."
"And what am I wearing in those scenarios?" Elliott asked.
Kurt gave him a long, hard stare. "A condom."
He watched Elliott connect the dots in his mind, and was pleased when his words had the desired effect. Elliott looked like he had just been handed the key to the Vogue vaults.
Elliott cleared his throat. "I think we can do that," he said hoarsely. "I mean, if you want-"
"I do."
Elliott shifted closer and kissed Kurt passionately before excusing himself to get some supplies.
Kurt was starting to feel a little giddy, but he was definitely sure about what he wanted. Despite having gone into them for the wrong reasons, he was grateful he had gathered some experience with his one night stands. They had helped him figure out if his likes and dislikes were innately his, or after-effects of his less-than-ideal sexlife with Blaine and other outside influences. It had taken a lot of un-learning of peer prejudices to come to terms with his own desires, but now he felt confident enough to communicate what he wanted without feeling ashamed.
When Elliott returned, Kurt had already taken off his shirt. Elliott smiled and followed suit, and Kurt feasted his eyes on the living canvas that was Elliott's beautiful inked skin, and the way his muscles moved underneath as he came closer.
Elliott put a bottle of lube and a pack of condoms on the coffee table. "Can I help?" he asked, nodding at Kurt's jeans.
Kurt nodded, trapping his lower lip between his teeth.
"Lay back," Elliott encouraged him. With a smirk, he added, "enjoy the leather."
Kurt chuckled and did as Elliott said. He gasped a little as his shoulders hit the cold leather by the armrest, but his lower back molded comfortably against the already warmed part of the couch where they had been sitting. It felt sexy, like they were already skin on skin- like he already had a lover beneath him while Elliott busied himself opening his belt.
Kurt's eyes fell closed as Elliott's lips latched onto his abs, just above the edge of his jeans. With each button that popped open, Elliott's lips wandered further down, and Kurt couldn't help but roll his hips. Apparently the move that came so naturally to him when he danced also translated into his baser body language. Elliott chuckled, and Kurt could feel the scruff of Elliott's chin on the tender skin of his groin. It only increased his need to press his crotch closer to Elliott's face, and Kurt let out a sigh of relief when Elliott succeeded in pulling his tight jeans down over his hips and buried his face against the straining cotton of his briefs. Elliott mouthed against the fabric, and Kurt felt his hot, wet tongue slowly soaking the cotton. He allowed himself a few moments just to feel. But when Elliott continued by rolling down his briefs as well and repeating the same open mouthed kiss on his skin, Kurt put a hand on Elliott's shoulder, softly holding him back.
"I'm sorry," Elliott said immediately, coming up and resting his weight on his elbows on either side of Kurt's thighs. "That wasn't part of your scenario?"
"No, it's okay," Kurt said quickly, not wanting Elliott to feel like he had done something wrong. "More than okay, actually. I'm just afraid I won't last very long if you keep going like that." He glanced at the condoms on the table.
Elliott followed his eyes and nodded. "Gotcha," he said, and his smile returned. "Raincheck?" He licks his lips eagerly.
"Oh god, please, yes," Kurt replied.
Elliott grinned. "Will do."
Kurt sat up. He reached for his jeans and began peeling them off his legs. Meanwhile, Elliott began undressing as well. Kurt watched him with bated breath. As Kurt had finally freed himself from his jeans, he lay back on the couch again to better enjoy the view. He was unable to keep his hands away completely at the sight of his lover, but only touched himself lightly, not wanting to come too soon.
Elliott watched him in return, and Kurt felt the heat rising in his cheeks. He planted his feet on the couch and bit his lower lip as Elliott squeezed some lube onto his fingers and sat down next to him.
Kurt shifted his hips on the leather. "I kind of feel like we should get a towel," he mumbled reluctantly.
Elliott shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, this is not oil," he said, "and you wanted to feel the leather, right? The couch can handle a few stains."
"Okay," Kurt sighed, and closed his eyes. The leather wasn't all he wanted to feel, and this was a good start. He could feel Elliott's slippery fingers caressing him, and it was suddenly very easy to stop worrying about furniture.
Without opening his eyes, Kurt reached for the coffee table with one hand, blindly feeling his way to the lube. He flicked it open with his thumb, and squeezed some into his palm. He transferred it to the couch and briefly met Elliott's hand to give it to him.
"Very dexterous," Elliott complimented.
"Hmm, you too," Kurt replied, screwing his eyes a little tighter as Elliott pushed his fingers deeply into him. "I can't remember...how many times...I fumbled with bottles like this...in the dark...trying not to give my roommates a free show," Kurt confessed in between huffs of breath.
"Yeah?" Elliott asked, sounding a little distracted with what he was doing.
"Mmm...my bookcase isn't exactly- ah! - a discreet room divider...So when the girls were watching tv late at night, I couldn't really...turn on the lights." Kurt started undulating his hips again, moving against Elliott's fingers to seek more friction. "I told you how they reacted to my boyfriend pillow...imagine what they'd have said- about my… toys." The last came out on a whimper. Elliott had scissored his fingers widely inside of him. Kurt clenched his muscles tightly in response.
Elliott carefully retracted his hand to reach for a condom. He rolled it down and thrust into his own hand a few times, making sure of the fit.
Kurt watched hungrily, using his own, still slippery fingers to finger himself in the rhythm of Elliott's pumping hand.
"You have no idea how hot that looks," Elliott growled, letting go of himself and crawling up to him.
"Oh, I do," Kurt replied, and added in a whisper: "You know that standing mirror next to my bed? I didn't always have the light off..."
"Oh my god," Elliott sighed, kissing the side of Kurt's neck. "Why are you only just telling me this now?"
"It never came up," Kurt replied. He lifted his hips impatiently.
"Well, it's definitely up now," Elliott said, and reached between their legs to guide himself into Kurt.
Kurt pushed his head back as far as he could, arching his back on the couch as if stretching himself longer would give Elliott more to fill. It felt amazing; the sensation and scent of the leather under him, Elliott's weight on top of him, the blunt pressure of Elliott's erection inside of him… He wrapped his legs high around Elliott's body to reel him in, and Elliott grinned.
"Come on now," Elliott said teasingly, "You're in Miss July's advanced class. You can do better than that." He took hold of Kurt's ankles and placed them on his shoulders. As he pushed forward, the muscles in the back of Kurt's legs burned. There was a quip going around Kurt's head about warm-ups versus foreplay, but it was driven out of his mind as Elliott's hips slammed forward. Kurt's hands flew up to grab the armrest of the couch and hold himself steady against Elliott's thrusts. This time, he kept his eyes wide open to make sure Elliott wouldn't suddenly change into Blaine like in his nightmares- then again, Kurt mused, I'd notice that with my eyes closed too. The scent of hairgel and his wheezing breath would be a dead giveaway. As would the lack of talent.
He smiled a little and Elliott smiled back, unwittingly sharing in the joke. Elliott jerked his own chin up briefly as if to ask: "yeah? this is good?" and Kurt nodded in return. Communication had gone nonverbal as Elliott's movements became faster and more insistent.
Kurt's climax was building, and he could tell Elliott was close, too. Kurt reached between their bodies to take hold of his erection, giving himself the final edge to wring out his orgasm. Elliott's rhythm became erratic, finally just pushing in deep and holding still. Kurt came, swiveling his hips up against Elliott as he rode it out, and he heard Elliott's breath catch before it came rushing out in a deep sigh.
They both held still as they caught their breaths. Then, Kurt crossed his ankles behind Elliott's head and pulled him close for a kiss, nearly bending himself in half. He was definitely warmed up.
"You're mine now," Kurt declared cheekily.
"Hell yeah," Elliott replied hoarsely, and kissed his lips.