ULTERIOR MOTIVES

Undress. Puck's hands were sure. They did not hesitate as they swiftly worked the fly of his pants. Kurt could feel the fight, the anger and the frustration, drain out of him as those hands peeled the fabric from his skin. It pooled around his ankles and Puck went down with it, down on his knees upon the linoleum floor with eyes dark with mischief. Kurt shivered when a drop of the ice cold liquid he had been drenched in ran over his now exposed thigh. His hands gripped the edges of the sink even tighter. He feared that if he would let go, his knees would fail him.

Puck's calloused fingers, curious and exploring, searched their way up his leg. Muscles twitched beneath his touch. Tension radiated from Kurt's body, mixed with shocked desire and lust, a profound need ingrained into every pore of him. There was a constant please on the tip of his tongue, a plea for mercy, for more than fleeting touches, for something with substance.

Puck's mouth hovered above his skin, his moist breath ghosting over his knee. It buckled temporarily, shuddered before Kurt was able to control it again. A smile tugged at the corners of Puck's mouth.

There was a familiar tingling in his abdomen, spreading down his thighs and up his torso. Arousal and nervousness combined, weakening his entire being when he looked down at Puck. Puck, who's lips just barely brushed over the inside of his milky white thighs, just barely enough to taste the flavor of blueberry.

The kisses were first small and inquiring, his mouth searching for the right keys to press and when he did, he created a beautiful melody made solely by Kurt's deep breaths and whimpers. He let his fingers dig into the hollow of his knee, stroking the soft skin there and feeling the tremor of his legs. He used lips, tongue and teeth, tasting him in every way he could, only pausing to discard of his underwear. He did not waste time – simply pulled it from Kurt's hips and let it drop.

There was a very quiet moment then. A moment in which their eyes met and Kurt's pupils were wide, his mouth parted. A strand of his usually immaculate coiffure clung to his forehead. Puck thought he was the hottest dude he had ever seen and told him so right before he wrapped his lips around his stiff erection. Kurt's eyes fluttered shut, a curse escaped him and he gripped the sink so hard his knuckles whitened.

Puck never does anything halfheartedly and what he may lack in skills, he make up for with enthusiasm. This was no exception. He placed his hands on his thighs, spreading his legs as far apart as they went while still trapped within the confines of his ridiculously tight pants. Just as he had expected, the frozen delight had spread all the way into Kurt's underwear. He offered himself a mental pat on the back for coming up with such a stellar plan.

Kurt's cock was heavy on his tongue. It pulsated with urgent need, tasting like blueberry and the warmth of his skin. He took it in as far as he could, testing the waters, before pulling back and repeating the motion. Kurt made some sort of half-broken sob, readjusting his grip on the sink as his knees gave in beneath him. He was burning.

Puck swirled his tongue around his hard member, hummed around it, sent vibrations all the way to Kurt's spine. Harsh breaths and moans echoed off the walls, repeated themselves for Kurt's ears and he thought he sounded absolutely ridiculous, but whenever a whimper left his lips, Puck almost growled and replied with such fervor around his dick that he had no other choice but to continue.

He did not last for long. He tried to warn him, tugging at the short hair of the mohawk, but Puck stubbornly continued, slipping and sliding, wet and hot and... Kurt froze, eyes firmly shut and there was a small little oh leaving his lips, his muscles twitching with the impact of the orgasm. Puck swallowed it all, sucked him dry. Kurt fought to stay upright.

The room filled with an awkward silence once it was over. Puck stood, brushed off his knees. He took a step to the right to stand next to him, leaning over to wash his mouth underneath the faucet. He gurgled and spit, dried his lips with the sleeve of his shirt. Kurt's hands trembled visibly when he tried to zip up his pants again. His fingers were sticky and he slipped more than once.

"Next time you feel like having a... rendezvous, there is no need to throw a slushy in my face. Telling me to my face works just as well."

His voice was weak, breathless and barely there at all. He cleared his throat, cheeks aflame with embarrassment. Puck's trademark grin spread across his face and when he replied, it was as if he had not heard Kurt's words at all.

"Next time, let's try another flavor. I'm dying for some grape."

And with that, he pushed the door to the boys' bathroom open and stepped out, leaving Kurt flushed, flustered and most of all sticky.