Come
boys, boys, boys with hairspray and denim
Even if I wrote this sometime after "Lay Down," chronologically, this comes first. (Ha, no pun intended.) This is NSFW, porn-filled, and so on. Porn is what I write most of the time, so just read each and every story of mine with trepidation (and without young eyes lurking over your shoulder). I can't even afford therapy for myself, so I definitely can't re-compensate you for the therapy you or a loved one needed after glancing at this.
Also: the italicized quote is from another Lady GaGa song, "BoysBoysBoys."
That aside, enjoy!
Kurt would have never expected his first time to be like this. He'd always considered himself a romantic, first and foremost. He wasn't a prude by any means-he was a teenage boy, for Versace's sake-but Kurt knew (or thought, at least) he wasn't easy. If someone had let him take a peek into the future to see himself getting down and dirty out in the wilderness with Noah Puckerman, of all boys, he would have disregarded the always-serious and always-constant threat of premature laugh lines and had a serious fit of OMGROFLMAO.
As it was, his v-card was being yanked from him and shredded into pieces by someone Kurt wasn't sure he even liked; forget about love. Judging by the way Puck kept trying to fondle Kurt's nonexistent boobs, the other boy didn't care much about him either. And yet Kurt couldn't find it in himself to care, not when Puck kept doing that thing with his teeth that made it feel like his nipples were going to be torn off (in the best way possible).
Of course, this was a prime moment for Fate to go and screw around with Kurt's already reality-television-dramatic life.
"Oh my god," Puck muttered, like he just heard that ANTM was back for another season. (Or whatever it was people like Noah Puckerman flipped a shit over.) "Oh god."
Kurt opened his eyes and glared impatiently at Puck, who was grimacing down at Kurt's (rather impressive) boner poking out from his slacks. "Why. The fuck. Did you stop?"
It was like Puck realized that this wasn't some horrific wet dream procured by his possibly closeted, definitely beer-rotted brain. That no, Kurt was not a figment of his imagination but was very real (and very hard) indeed. Puck might've even pinched himself on the arm, but Kurt was too busy trying to turn the asshole into a pile of ashes with the power of his stare alone.
"I-uh…" Puck swallowed, nervously backing away.
Kurt would later blame what happened next on years of pent-up sexual frustration and maybe Finn Hudson and his annoyingly endearingly annoying obliviousness, to some extent. (Kurt knew Finn was about as sharp as a marble, but come on-Kurt had done everything short throwing himself at the lovable lug.)
Before Puck could vanish in a cloud of dust like Road Runner, Kurt reached out and yanked Puck back to him. In a strange bout of adrenaline, Kurt pinned the taller boy to the large oak tree Kurt had been pressed up against just seconds before. The jock looked slightly frightened, but mostly surprised. Kurt had to work fast to avoid the pissed-off, get-off-me-you-fag Puck, so as quickly as he possibly could, he shoved himself forward and into Puck's personal space. Kurt breathed an inward sigh of relief when he felt that Puck was a little turned on from all of this, and it felt less like he was raping some not-so-innocent boy in the wilderness and more like he was the experienced teacher and Puck was the one wading in the waters of insecurity.
"Are you scared?" Kurt asked as calmly as possible, letting his kneecap barely brush against Puck through his jeans. The poor mohawked idiot looked torn between running away and dry-humping Kurt's leg.
"'M not scared," Puck hissed, his face turning red as his groin twitched forward of its own accord. "Just not a-oh! Fuck… Not a fag."
Kurt bristled with irritation. "Well judging by this-" He took his hand and pressed it up against Puck's hard, hot dick, making Puck squeak. "-you're not exactly straight, either."
"A hot body's a-ungh-body, Hummel," Puck hissed out through clenched teeth.
"So what's there to get stage fright over?" Kurt prodded, smirking as Puck groaned and let his head fall back with a heavy thud against the tree trunk. "No one's around to see-I don't think the squirrels will be divulging any information to that slime-ball Israel anytime soon."
Puck said nothing in response, but ever so slowly, hesitant hands petted the front of Kurt's still-tented pants, reaching in through the previously undone fly to touch him through his Armani boxers. Kurt sighed in happy relief, his eyes almost drifting shut from how good this all felt. Puck was right, a hot body was a…
Kurt's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, and just as he was about to open his mouth to ask Puck if he really thought Kurt was hot, he paused, weighing his decision. Would getting his ego stroked be better than having his dick stroked? And if Kurt made anymore assumptions about Puck's sexuality in one day, well, he'd either end up hard and left to grind up on a tree, or he'd get a nice, firm kick to the balls.
In the end, Kurt moved forward, somehow managing to pull Puck's hand off of him so he could press their bodies together. The jock beneath him (Kurt didn't laugh at the irony of the situation) made all sorts of hot, kind of cute little noises in the back of his throat, his eyes tightly clenched shut as they ground together. "Fuck," Puck gasped. "Fuckfuckfuck."
Kurt just grinned and sucked Puck's bottom lip between his teeth. He nearly bit Puck's lip in half when his bare chest happened to slide against Puck's. The feel of warm, sculpted pectorals against his hypersensitive, bruised-up nipples was almost too much, and it was his turn to toss his head back and make embarrassing noises.
Puck seemed renewed by Kurt's soft mewls. His arms, so toned and so good, wrapped around his waist and began stroking the bulge of Kurt's pelvic bone. His skin seemed to be set on fire by those confident touches, and in the back of Kurt's mind (where he wasn't either mindless from pleasure or desperately memorizing the feel of Puck's biceps), he was surprised that Puck allowed himself to be in such a submissive position. His clearly strong and able body was being held down by the kid he usually tossed into dumpsters, and Kurt couldn't deny the power trip this all gave him. It was almost as intoxicating as the feel of foreign flesh he was trying to melt into.
His traitorous mind began envisioning Puck lowered onto his knees before him, his eyes wide open, full of adoration and lust as he took Kurt into his mouth. As Kurt fucked his mouth, as Kurt came in his mouth…
He did the next best thing (because as hot as that image was, he highly doubted Puck would ever be up to sucking dick) and bent down in front of Puck, his eyes all for the front of the boy's jeans as he slowly unzipped them. Puck's breathing sped up even more, if it were possible, only to catch when Kurt wrapped his hand around Puck with little fanfare. "Should've figured you'd be the type to go Commando," Kurt dryly retorted, his voice scratchy and wavering.
"What're you… ah," Puck slammed his head backwards so roughly that bits of woodchip confetti rained down into Kurt's mussed hair as Kurt sucked the head of Puck's dick into his salivating mouth.
It wasn't as amazing as he'd thought it would be, but Kurt found pleasure in feeling Puck twitch in his mouth, hearing Puck whimpering above him. He nearly choked when tentative hands gently stroked the debris out of his hair, almost reverently tickling the line of his jawbone. His wide eyes met Puck's, through the fringe of his hair. The boy stopped what he was doing, embarrassment managing to flush his cheeks even more than arousal did.
"Don't stop, Hummel," He growled, but Kurt could hear the nervous waver, otherwise Kurt would've stood up and walked away for Puck to suffer, even if it meant blue balls for him, too.
He warningly scraped his teeth against the underside of Puck's cock, smirking at the shocked yelp it induced. "Bitch," Puck muttered with little venom, sighing and closing his eyes when Kurt got back into dizzying rhythm.
It took barely a minute more for Puck to come, and right before he did, he tried yanking Kurt off of him. Kurt paused and let his mouth squeeze tighter as he opened his eyes to look at Puck. "Going to…" Was all the panting boy could get out before Kurt took as much of him into his mouth as he could, using his tongue to swirl and stroke until Puck came with a shout. "Fuck!"
Kurt gagged a bit at the bitter-salty flavor, but managed to swallow what wasn't mixed with spit and running down his face in small rivulets.
He watched Puck regain consciousness, lightly sucking a hickey on the inside of Puck's solid thigh, slipping a hand inside of his boxers and stroking himself as the boy shuddered. "Good God, Hummel, you sure you never done that before?"
Kurt didn't bother answering; he just pressed his sweaty face against Puck's navel, puffing damp breaths against tan skin as his hand on his dick quickened. He could practically feel Puck's leer as he stared down at the crown of Kurt's head. "Need some help there?"
Just as Kurt was about to tell Puck to kindly fuck off (or fuck him, he wasn't too sure), he was knocked onto the ground, a hot force keeping him pinned and unable to move as Puck took up where Kurt left off. Puck nipped at Kurt's earlobe, his other hand coming up to twist and tug at already abused nipples. Kurt tried arching his back up off the earth floor to no avail, and he wasn't sure if he felt claustrophobic or turned on.
"Gonna come for me, Hummel?" Puck growled right into Kurt's ear, making him shudder and moan. "
His voice was short-circuited to his throbbing dick, and with each guttural, dirty word, Kurt grew hotter and hotter, until he was teetering on the edge of climax.
He cried out when Puck squeezed the base of his dick, nanoseconds before Kurt came. "Asshole!" He hissed, clawing at the bastard's chest. Puck snickered darkly, his tight grip easing to continue stroking after a moment.
"You're so easy, Hummel," Puck murmured, licking at the shell of Kurt's ear. He felt Puck harden against his abdomen, and he was part-enraged that the bastard was getting off on this strange form of teasing. But Kurt had to concede, he'd take this over slushie facials any day.
But when he was denied twice more, he wasn't so sure. Kurt was so frustrated he was almost in tears, and sweat pooled into every possible crevice of his body. Puck softly ground against him as his vice-like grip kept Kurt from pleasure. Was it possible to explode from this? Because he felt like a balloon, about to pop from the pressure.
"Puck," He choked out, his eyes tightly shut when that traitorous hand began moving once again. "I need-please…!"
"What?" Puck asked breathlessly into Kurt's ear. "Tell me what you need."
"Need to-fuck!-let me come, can't-can't…" Kurt was almost hyperventilating, scratching deep marks into Puck's back.
"Beg," The jock commanded, "Beg me, say Please Puck, please-"
"Please let me fucking come, you douche!" Kurt screeched in relief when that hand sped up, and within seconds he was experiencing what could only be described as dying from pleasure overload.
Through the bursts of color and blinding white behind his closed eyelids, Kurt could hear Puck grunting as he jacked himself off. Kurt whimpered as Puck's hot semen spurted on his spent dick, his whole body twitching at the tickling sensation.
Puck collapsed on top of Kurt, and they both lay spent on the forest floor as they waited for the world to quit spinning.
Kurt shifted when the jock's weight made it impossible to breathe properly. "Get offa me," He muttered sleepily.
"Quit bein'…" Puck yawned, "Bein' a bitch." He scooched over on his side, though, and Kurt gasped in a lungful of woodsy air.
It took a few more minutes for them to start moving and getting redressed. Kurt hopped on one foot to dislodge a piece of pinecone from his pant leg as Puck snickered next to him. He gained retribution by chucking an acorn at Puck's head.
"So…" Ah, here came the lovely awkwardness. Puck shuffled on his feet. "I'm still not gay."
"You're not exactly straight, either," Kurt said smugly, running his fingers through his hair in a poor attempt to neaten it up. He was beginning to feel disgustingly unclean, and he hoped a nice, warm shower would make him feel better.
He frowned in surprise when Puck sheepishly shrugged, nodding his head a bit in acquiescence. "You are kinda hot… for a girly-boy."
Kurt didn't know why he was grinning as he watched Puck's retreating figure, but he knew a part of him really wanted this to happen again.
He turned and looked at the tree they'd used, patting its rough trunk almost lovingly. Kurt took his stained scarf and tied it on a nearby branch.
Before he drove out of the parking lot, he found the flash of yellow and smirked to himself. GaGa was his soundtrack as he made his way home, thinking of sculpted abs and hot come as he sang along. "You taste just like glitter mixed with rock and roll…"