It's All About the Teasing: (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction
This was written in response to the "Teasing" kink on my kink_bingo card, and while I definitely could have posted this en masse as a one-shot, I decided to play up the kink and tease you all with bits and pieces of the story. :P I love you guys, I do, but I think the Cheerios could be onto something with their teasing. (Thankfully, I'm also all about the pleasing-I promise I won't leave y'all high and dry.)
Definitely NSFW. Features toppy!top!Kurt, along with heavy teasing and a bit of bondage. (There will be more warnings added on as the chapters progress, I'm sure of it.)
Well, nothing more to say other than I hope you enjoy this!
Kurt loved waking up as the big spoon. Maybe it was how his body was curved protectively around Puck from behind, feeling for the world like the man's defender. It could have been the fact that he was pressed close enough so that when a dreaming Puck would take a deep inhale in, Kurt, stuck in that realm of barely-awake and half-asleep, would catch up so they both breathed out as one. It happened far less often than Kurt liked, but no one could say he didn't take advantage of the situation when it arose…
Among other things.
He lazily smirked into the back of Puck's neck. Kurt could feel his not-so-subtle morning glory trying to poke its way out of his pajama pants where it pressed up against the swell of Puck's amazing ass. Noah, oblivious in his sleep, smacked his lips a few times and adjusted the covers around him before burrowing back into Kurt's more than friendly embrace.
The alarm clock told Kurt it was quarter to seven, which meant he had a mere ten minutes left to "sleep." But he was already up, in more than one sense of the word, and why waste this lovely frame of time puttering around the kitchen? The coffeepot wouldn't run anywhere, and his morning skincare regime (in order to battle against the foreboding threat of wrinkles) always started at seven, sharp. So he totally had some time to kill.
Kurt took his one hand, the one that had been possessively latched onto the indent of Puck's hipbone, and ran it, palm-side down, along Puck's naked side beneath the sheets. He always loved the feel of Noah's jutting hips, the dramatic difference between his wide, firm abdomen and the beginning of his thigh. He could see it without looking: the endless span of tanned skin, unblemished except for a tiny, upraised knot of scar tissue right… there. Kurt traced the pad of his thumb over said scar, nestled against one of Puck's lower ribs. That had been from a foot chase a couple years ago, when some little shit junked up on cocaine pulled a Swiss Army Knife on Puck, who'd caught him from behind in a bear hug.
He felt his dick twitch within his flannel (yes, flannel) pants. He'd been scared as fuck at the time, sure, but now, looking back at his partner's unwavering bravery, his dedication to his job, it made him just as hard as any decent gay porno off of Skinemax.
Kurt clenched his fingers around the swell of Puck's pelvic bone, lightly digging the tips into those usually-sore muscles and massaging. Noah made a soft, content sigh in his sleep, instinctively jutting his ass back so Kurt had better access to his hip. Kurt hissed out a relaxed sigh himself and complied, and while he worked at those tense spots, he slowly ran his pant-clad leg up and down Puck's bare calf, lightly dragging his perfectly-manicured toenails along the bulging muscle. The coarse hairs tickled the tips of his toes, stimulating them into feeling almost numb with sensation.
He moved his foot higher and higher still, edging past the bulge of Puck's kneecap to trace beginning of a beautifully toned thigh. Kurt felt the potential in those relaxed muscles, the taut skin containing barely hidden secrets of sinewy muscles and staggering leg strength built up from years as an active cop. Kurt pressed another kiss to the bare skin of Noah's neck, letting his leg come to a rest and curl around that thigh, pulling it just the tiniest fraction backwards.
He groaned at the new, better angle, grinding his cock up against the crack of that perfect ass through just two layers of clothing (which were still too much, in Kurt's honest opinion). His kneading hand slowed until just his fingertips were tickling up and down that jutting hipbone, and slowly let his hand creep around to rest against sleep-warmed six packs. They jumped at his feathery touch, muscle roiling beneath smooth, slightly hairy skin; Kurt absently marveled that something so powerful, so defiant in its masculinity, could be rippled and disturbed in the wake of something as insubstantial as Kurt's spidery piano fingers.
Another smirk spread across his features. Even in sleep, Noah would submit to him. He relished in such unconsciously-given power, petting those abdominals in an almost rewarding manner as he spun his hips around in figure-eights and corkscrews against Puck's tight, occasionally clenching ass. Noah was beginning to make little whimpering noises in the back of his throat, mewling whenever Kurt's hand would be just shy of his growing boner, skating around Puck's groin even as the other man lifted his hips into his palm in an bluntly obvious invitation to grab his dick. That was Puck, Kurt thought with a snort, just as subtle in sleep as he was when conscious.
One thing Kurt always hated about cuddling was the awkward angle, and how at least one-half of your appendages would inevitably fall asleep unless you found the right position. He used the leg that pulled Puck's uppermost thigh back to lift up the other one just enough for Kurt's free leg to slip beneath. He wound his leg around Puck's, until both his legs were practically splitting Noah like a wishbone. When his wandering hand finally reached its destination, Mount Puckerman at its almost full elevation, his lover groaned in his sleep, rolling so he was practically face planting his pillow.
Kurt kept still for a few moments, waiting until a soft snore rolled out of the form beneath him to readjust himself. He let his legs frame Puck's, the arches of his feet curved perfectly around Noah's kneecaps. The slightly frog-legged contorting of his body made bumping his dick, now staining the front of his pants with precome, easier and more rewarding. The strain on his hamstrings added a delicious sting to the tickling pleasure Kurt felt every time he swiveled his hips.
The blanket had fallen down a bit until Kurt's ass was the only thing holding it up, and he could feel the beginnings of goose-bumps against Noah's skin. Kurt grinned; Puck wouldn't be feeling cold-or asleep-for much longer.
He tried to move his trapped hand to no avail, succeeding in not only getting Puck's dick fully erect, but making Noah awaken with a reedy moan. "Aa-aah…"
"Good morning, Officer," Kurt whispered against the shell of a pierced ear, giving the tip an affectionately predatory nibble. "I see you're… up… and standing at attention." He pressed his groin into Puck's lower back with a rough, circular grind, hard enough to grind Noah into his hand in a mirror image. "Don't know what's got you so eager, though…" He continued innocently. "Is there a new episode of Kitchen Nightmares tonight?"
"Fucker," Puck growled halfheartedly into his pillow, his fists clenching handfuls of bedsheets as he tried in vain to cant his hips up. Being a cop's significant other had its perks, and open access to the training rooms was one of them. (So were free coffees and doughnuts from the D&D down the street, who knew Puck on a first-name basis since they'd moved downtown a year ago.) Kurt's job as a professional fashionista wasn't physically demanding at all, and yet he was able to hold his own against a trained, well-seasoned police officer. The smugness was almost orgasmic.
Puck was making happy little grunts of approval as Kurt squeezed him through his boxer shorts, reaching up to grab Kurt from behind only to have both of his wrists pinned down against his back, a mimicry of handcuffing whose irony Puck might have even appreciated, had he not been whining and struggling to break free.
Kurt knew better than anyone else that Puck liked the idea of someone being able to hold control over him, to be able to pin him down and make him work for freedom. And if he didn't, the massive hard-on he was groping with his hand (which was beginning to lose circulation) turned Noah into an open book. And, knowing Puck, he'd be a muscle mag opened to a three-page spread of something scantily clad in leather, tanned, and muscled-preferably covered in body chocolate.
Noah knew when he was had, and when Kurt minutely tightened his grip on Puck's wrists, just enough pressure to twinge, he put on an act of reluctantly conceding-
Only to have Kurt let him go and slide off of him. The morning alarm went off a moment later, and Puck yelped and toppled off the bed in indignant shock. He opened his eyes and shot a glare up at Kurt, who was smiling all too pleasantly down at him-the bastard. Kurt shut off the alarm with a low chuckle, turning and slipping out of the bedroom without another word.
"What the fuck?" Puck shouted, scrambling up in the nest of blankets tangled around him. "What kind of wake-up call was that?"
When he got no answer, he angrily kicked his way out of the bedsheets and stomped into the kitchenette where Kurt was standing, hand on one hip as he watched the timer-set coffee finishing percolating. The other man was oblivious-too oblivious to Puck's presence, and he found himself feeling a confused muddle of arousal, irritation, and something that might have been a reluctant fondness.
He used his awesome sleuthing-cop skills to silently skulk his way over to Kurt's turned profile. Noah smirked in silent triumph, because Kurt hadn't noticed a thing-
And then his outstretched hand was grabbed with ninja-like precision, and Kurt flipped Noah around to manhandle him against the counter. Pressed front-to-front, his hands bound behind him once more, Puck stared defiantly into Kurt's gleaming, amused eyes. "…I hate it when you do that."
Kurt threw his head back and laughed, somehow high and melodious at the crack of dawn. Noah wanted to kick him, because he was tired, grumpy, and horny, a losing combination, for sure.
But then Kurt looked back to him, a wicked smirk curling at his lips. His one eyebrow was raised in that I'm-the-Sex way Noah envied him for most of the time, but right now, he felt himself shivering in anticipation. "Oh do you now? See, I thought I was giving my birthday boy a treat, shoving you around like this." Kurt pouted in faux sorrow-hell, his eyes even shone with the hint of tears, an actor through and through. "Don't you like it?"
Noah growled like a caged panther, ready to force his way out of Kurt's slackened grip, but of course Kurt had another trick up his sleeve. Just as he had one hand free, Kurt gripped hard on his other wrist, and something metallic-a cuff-was slapped around it. The handcuff clicking locked was the only sound, other than the coffee burbling as it finished its cycle, in the silent kitchen.
He gaped at Kurt, dizzy with surprise. The other man had a triumphant air about him Puck was sure he could smell, and he watched as Kurt stepped away from him, jaw still slack while Kurt poured himself a steaming cup of coffee.
"Mm," Kurt hummed into his drink, taking a nice, long sip before setting it down onto the counter. He put his hand on his hip once more, assessing the man before him with a sly grin. "Have I got a present for you." He purred, his eyes going half-lidded and smoldering as Kurt looked Puck up and down like a choice piece of meat in the butcher-shop. "But first… I need a shower. Can't run off-schedule just because someone's turning the big three-oh," He said cheerfully. As he walked past his frozen boyfriend, Kurt placed the barely-touched cup of coffee-black, like Puck took it-beside his only free hand, letting his fingers caress the limp palm as he breezed by. "Have some coffee, hun," He said sweetly. "You look like you had a long night, and you're going to need the caffeine."
He glared at the doorway even after Kurt's retreating ass disappeared from his view, waiting for the man to pop back in and shout "Surprise!" until he heard the shower turn on. He perked up, listening for Kurt's footfalls-he was just pulling his leg, right?-only to collapse against the counter with a disbelieving groan when, a few moments later, Kurt's voice belting out "I can't get no satisfaction" could be heard throughout their spacious luxury apartment.
Motherfucker.