Rating: NC17
Word count: ~2,300 words
Warnings: None.
Summary: AU Glee. Dave is a nerd, and Kurt is a Cheerio. Kurt needs a tutor to pull his GPA up. Cliche but fun.
Author’s note: If you haven’t been reading Spankies in conjunction with this then you’re going to get very confused, if you aren’t already. In hindsight I should have just made it one fic, but that’s what learning curves are for.
THERMODYNAMICS CHAPTERS:
CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER 12
SPANKIES AND POMPOMS:
PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR PART FIVE PART 6
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
They all end up in his room, and there is still a little part of him that cringes about what Kurt might say and think, a larger part that tells him Kurt can go to hell, he’s not about to go and change, and an even larger part that is hyperventilating slightly, that Kurt Hummel, his boyfriend, is in his bedroom. The annoying presence of Lucy and Mercedes last night is now amplified a thousand times and he’s trying to tell them telepathically to get the fuck out. It does not seem to be working. Or it is and they’re deliberately ignoring him. Probably the latter.
Kurt is sitting on his bed, legs crossed and now empty plate between his knees, hand reached out to touch his and he can’t believe he’s half hard simply because their fingers are touching. He’s using a pillow over his lap, ostensibly to hold the plate, but now serving a dual purpose. And when he’d put a t-shirt on Kurt had pouted, saying he was ruining his view. He might pass out if his brain doesn’t start circulating back to his brain, and he knows it’s not that hot in his room, but damn it feels like a furnace.
The sit and chat, and Mercedes finallyexcuses herself to shower, coming back and Lucy goes. That’s when it hits him. He needs to go and shower, and that means leaving Kurt alone in his room. Well, not exactly alone, but with Mercedes and Lucy, which isn’t necessarily better. Sure enough Lucy comes back and throws a towel at his face, telling him it’s his turn and he looks between Kurt and his best female friends.
“Don’t believe everything they say, just… don’t okay?”
Kurt gives him a slow smile which can only be described as sinful and he wants to drag him to have a shower with him, because at least that way would have some privacy. And he woke up with a damn erection he couldn’t take care of this morning, although the presence of Mercedes and Lucy had been a very effective damper on his arousal. They might not exactly have been going out for very long but his body doesn’t seem to care about that at all. He showers quickly, dresses in his usual denims and t-shirt which he brought into the bathroom with him and opens the door, billows of steam following him. There’s far too much laughing coming from his room, and the door is shut and locked. What the hell?
“Guys? What are you doing?” He asks, rattling the handle.
The door opens and Lucy grins, eyes bright, gesturing for him to enter as if it isn’t his own bedroom and he looks around. Kurt is sitting in the middle of his bed, the color in his cheeks definitely higher than before and he glances around. He’s pretty sure his drawers have been opened, and maybe even his wardrobe, and he really doesn’t like the creeping sensation of unease at the three grinning faces. The last thing he needs is for them to joins forces.
“What have you guys done?”
“Nothing,” Mercedes and Lucy say in unison and he knows they’re lying. He also knows he has no chance of dragging it out of them so it’ll probably be a horrible nasty surprise. His eyes flick to Kurt, who looks a little guilty, so maybe it won’t be nasty. He has no idea.
They’re meant to be having a games day today. They have a couple of new board games they want to try out, or expansions, and he knows Blaine, Sam and Azimio are going to be turning up soon. Kurt looks pretty comfortable on his bed and in no rush to leave, which he kind of likes, but he doesn’t know whether to invite him to join them or… well, he can only ask.
“So uh, we’re going to play some games. You want to hang out?”
“Yeah told me last night, and yes, I think I’d like that. At least until I have to go.”
He knows there’s a football game tonight, that Kurt will be cheering, and the idea of watching him is more than appealing. Hell, it’s always been appealing, now it’s just… more. He and Az go to the games anyway, they all do, although for different reasons obviously. He frowns, because he doesn’t know if he actually told Kurt that in their wandering conversation last night. Maybe he can use it as a surprise. Mercedes and Lucy distract him about wanting to go and set up and then he’s alone, in his bedroom, with Kurt.
“Hi,” he says, and Kurt’s lips twitch as if he’s holding back a laugh and he cringes inwardly. His earlier confidence has seeped away somewhere, probably because his bedroom feels far more intimate, exposed, than the kitchen downstairs. He feels more exposed, his superhero posters, jokey-nerd posters that Kurt probably doesn’t get, photo board covered in photos from previous trips to comic-con. “We better not stay up here too long or we’ll never hear the end of it.”
“True. Shame. Shame about the t-shirt too. I much preferred you in just the apron.”
He opens his mouth, mainly to ensure he doesn’t swallow his tongue before shaking his head and smiling.
“Come on, we’ve got to explain the rule to you.”
“Mmm. Just so you know, I have freaky beginners luck.”
“Well then, I won’t go easy on you.”
TLOT
Kurt leaves well before the game is due to start, and he guesses he probably needs to eat, get to the school, change and warm up before everything kicks off. They pack the usual snacks and thermos’ full of hot chocolate. It’s almost like a party atmosphere at the games, and being in the crowd he knows none of them have ever felt singled out or bullied like they do in the hallways of school. They’re just there to enjoy the game. Or cute asses. Or both in his case.
Their team isn’t the best unfortunately, but neither is it the worst, which it was a couple of years ago. He cheers and groans along with Az, Lucy and Mercedes joining in when they’re paying attention, and he notes Sam is sandwiched between the girls again, probably his only reason for coming seeing as he’s not really a fan, just comes for the company. He’s made them sit in slightly more obvious seats, closer to the front and towards the section where the cheerleaders sit. He’s seen Kurt several times already, but he knows where to look obviously, and Kurt isn’t even searching the crowd for people like some of the other cheerleaders, who are waving to their parents until Coach Sylvester snaps at them.
After the half-time show, and once the game has restarted he excuses himself and gets an eye roll from pretty much every single one of them except Blaine. He gives them the finger as he walks away, not caring what they think of him going to find his boyfriend. Which he does pretty easily, and he’s actually surprised to find Kurt alone and heading for the locker rooms.
“Hey.”
“Dave. You’re here. What are you doing here?”
“I’ve been at every home game since Freshman year. I like football. We’re all here actually.”
“Oh…” The now semi-familiar awkward silence stretches between them and he swallows, partially nervous but also amused at themselves. Kurt looks a little flushed, which he guesses after the routine he’s just done is no surprise.
“Are you… expected back soon?”
“Uh… not really?”
“Good.”
Then he’s being dragged toward the locker room, although Kurt is only able to drag him because he goes along with it. It’s not like he doesn’t want to go along with it though. He lets it go so far as Kurt pushing him against the cinder-brick wall, and then he’s being attacked. It feels like an attack, lips and hands and body all pressing and rubbing against him almost feverishly and he twists, grabs and turns, pinning Kurt’s smaller frame to the wall.
“What are you doing?”
“I –. I’m a little hard. Um.”
He frowns but reaches a hand down, and actually the stretchy fabric of the Cheerios uniform does nothing to hide the straining erection and what the actual fuck?
“Performing sometimes… turns me on,” Kurt says, and he must have muttered it aloud.
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah well…” Kurt shrugs like he’s embarrassed, and fuck, he really really shouldn’t be. He presses down with his hand and then brings it back up, then pauses, wondering if giving Kurt a noticeable wet spot in the front of his Cheerios uniform is the best course of action. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop…” Kurt mutters, so he resumes the up and down stroking with his hand. He can feel fingers digging into his shoulder, one of Kurt’s arms looping around his neck and he leans forward, his body acting as a shield against anyone that might walk into the locker room. He lets his mouth cover Kurt’s, kissing him and capturing the gasps and groans Kurt makes as he thrusts against him.
His own cock is definitely interested, smelly boys locker room and all, and he supposes a horny Kurt Hummel thrusting against his hand can and will override many many things. And all he can really smell is Kurt, and some weird smell that might be makeup but he’s not sure.
The desperate pressure and speed at which Kurt is thrusting against him makes him increase his speed and pressure, and he guesses Kurt’s been turned on for a while. How does he make it not obvious in those pants? God, those pants have been a thing of his fantasies, as have the skirts really, only when Kurt’s wearing them though and he feels his cock get harder and he grinds against Kurt’s thigh. He can hear the rapid panting of both of them breathing in the otherwise quiet of the locker room, although there’s plenty of noise coming from the game outside.
Kurt’s body is almost jumping in his hands and he can’t believe he’s rubbing him off and he groans, knowing Kurt is close by the higher pitched moans and what he can only think of as squeaks. He isn’t getting any assistance from Kurt, but he doesn’t care. Not yet anyway. The novelty of this is enough, probably more than enough to make him come in his own pants.
“Oh yes, yes yes yes…” and he slows the speed right down, but not the pressure, enjoys the shuddering of Kurt’s body against him and feels the warm wetness against his hand a moment later.
He’s still aching and hard, his theory that it was enough to make him come clearly wrong, but then he feels a hand touching him again, softer than before and that’s not going to be enough. He thrusts into it and gets a soft tutting sound as his response followed by a a gentle shove, moving their positions back so he’s the one leaning against the wall again. Okay. He’s okay with that. He’ll probably need the extra support. Then he feels a finger run down the length of his fly and his eyes snap open, meeting Kurt’s.
“Can I?”
He nods, frantically fast and he clenches his eyes shut again as he feels his zipper tugged down slowly, his belt unbuckled and then his underwear pulled down to his thighs, leaving his dick waving around in the air of the locker room and where is Kurt’s hand? He opens his eyes again and holy fucking shit…
Kurt Hummel is on his knees in front of him.
Fuck.
“Can I?” Kurt repeats and he nods again, breath coming fast and he’s not going to last long at all. A blow job. His first blow job. He can’t faint, that’s an all consuming thought for all of a second before Kurt’s mouth presses at the head, dragging hot tacky lips with a delicious pull of friction and all thoughts fly from his mind. He takes in a long breath, letting it out slowly as he feels a tongue flick and press and he groans, resisting the urge to thrust because he doesn’t want to choke Kurt. He wants Kurt to do this again. Many many times. It feels amazing, warm tight pressure and he can feel lips and tongue, and he wonders what it’s like, to give a blow job and god, he gets to find out. Soon he hopes. So many things he’s thought of and they’re all crashing around in his head, telling him they might be possible and he can feel his hips jerking, too much if the hand on his hips is to judge by.
Then the mouth and lips are gone and he hears a pitiful moan and knows he’s made the sound. Kurt is standing up again, hand encircling his cock before starting to pump him, hard and fast and it feels much firmer after the softness of his lips and mouth, even with the sucking, and he knows his own release is right there, right on the edge. Then it’s not, it’s over and gone and he’s coming, his cock jerking in Kurt’s hand, back arching away from the wall and wow. He stares at the ceiling for a couple of seconds, knowing he’s probably never going to be able to be in the guys locker room without remembering this. Which could be problematic.
“I got in trouble because of you,” Kurt says, voice quiet in deference to the fact that it’s right beside his ear, and he feels a little nip to his earlobe and his body startles with an aftershock.
“What? Why?”
“Let’s just say that having bite marks on the neck of the co-leader of the Cheerios are apparently frowned on. Fortunately Rachel had some sweat-proof stuff I could use…”
“Oh. I…”
“Don’t say sorry. I’m not.”
He blushes, because it’s impossible to feel bad about something like that when he’s pretty much just repeated it and his dick is hanging out and…
“Neither am I.”