(reuploaded after recent deletion by ff net)

Authors: karomeled and vkdemon
Characters: Dave Karofsky, Kurt Hummel, Blaine Anderson
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 11 000
Kinks: loudsex, voyeurism
Warnings: dub-con at the beginning of the sex scene, rough sex
Summary: Kurt and Dave never met. Kurt lives in a cramped NYC apartment with Blaine. Their relationship has basically died, but it would be inconvenient to move out on their salaries. The crappy apartment has paper-thin walls and ceilings. Dave lives above them, they've never seen him but every night he fucks a different loudmouth twink till the whole building shakes. This enrages Kurt. One evening he stomps up there to give Dave a piece of his mind.
AN: AU written for a prompt on gkm (livejournal com 29310 . html?thread =34729342# t34729342 ). Sequel in plans. :) I hope you enjoy!

AH! AH! AH! AH! AH!

Kurt poured the hot water into his mug and stirred the coffee in violent, circular motions, watching the grounds sunk to the bottom.

YES! YES! LIKE THAT!

He came up to the fridge, took out the milk, and shut the machine with a loud smack. Then he checked the expiry date, because one can't trust Blaine with making grocery. Still good. Wow, he managed the difficult art of shopping this time, Kurt thought grimly, turning off the screw top. He moved to pour it into his coffee.

FUCK ME YES FUCK ME PLEASE FUCK MEEEE

"What else is he doing there?" Kurt blared towards the ceiling, abruptly putting the bottle down on the table. The milk spouted up the neck of the vessel, and spilled on his hand and the tablecloth. "God fucking damn it!" He yelled, grabbing a towel from the peg next to the oven. The noises coming from the apartment situated right above Kurt and Blaine's cut off after his outburst. He sighed in relief. It was already after 11 pm and Kurt had couple more chapters to read for the next day, but the only things filling his head for the last hour were the sounds of another high-voiced man being pouted into mattress by the guy who lived upstairs. He wiped his hand, held the bottle up and tapped reluctantly at the mess on the table, trying not to smear it further.

Out of sudden, the shrieking began again, this time accompanied by monotonous thumping, what was unmistakably the sound of the bed headboard banging against the wall.

Kurt gritted his teeth. The guy upstairs was mocking him.

Kurt and Blaine didn't know him, didn't see him even once since they moved in here three months ago. It wasn't bizarre, considering the fact that they didn't get to know any of their other neighbors. But while The Chronic Cougher living in front of them and The Girl with a Dog from apartment on the left were at least trying to balance the volume of their lives, The Fucker on the next floor was allowing his visitors to unabashedly and unashamedly announce his sexual prowess to the whole building. Every. Single. Night.

There was something anomalous about finding out such private details about other people's lives before even knowing what they look like, but Kurt and Blaine got used to the fact that this is how living in a cheap apartment with paper-thin walls works. At first, the vociferous incidents left Kurt blushing and giggling nervously, but with the passing of time, the place of embarrassment was taken by growing irritation. Nowadays, Kurt was vaguely aware that the pent up frustration was turning him into fuming, seething, snapping at his ex-boyfriend for no reason monster, and it was all the fault of the man living in apartment 630.

He took the coffee to his room and proceed to put in ear plugs. They dulled the noises significantly, but Kurt was still left with the nagging awareness that not so far from him, people orgasm, bask in afterglow and, generally, have a sex life. That was a particularly painful reminder, and not only because Kurt didn't get laid for a long time.

Blaine started dating again recently and Kurt just knew that somewhere out there, there is a guy (called Frank or Rick or other stupid, man-whorish name) irritating his neighbors, by fucking Blaine. As it was probably happening tonight. And Blaine could be quite loud, if someone knew how to push his buttons.

Kurt tried to yay every time his long time friend gushed about his new crushes, and not to be bitter, and, especially, not to think that Blaine got over him a little too fast.

He stared at the book opened before him for a moment. He then lowered his head and banged it on the desk couple times, mimicking the thumping coming from above.

Resigned, Kurt slid his hand from the desk on his groin, deciding to finally do something about the hard-on distracting him for quite some time. He palmed himself, stood up from the desk and laid down on the bed. He pulled the plugs out from his ears. The noise was gone. The men above were probably lying now under the covers, kissing and snuggling in the post-coitus bliss. Sated, sleepy, they stare into each others eyes and whisper sweet nothings. Blaine slides his hand down between their bodies, through the mess on his stomach, and cups Kurt's ass-cheek, bringing him closer.

Kurt's hand started stroking his cock faster.

They undulate against each other lazily, Blaine kisses the sleep out of Kurt and they're quickly getting ready for the second time. They're still in Lima and everything is perfect. Blaine looks at him as if Kurt holds the answers to all questions, there's no Sebastian or distance to drift them apart.

Kurt came with a sob. The semen shot couple times on his hand and jeans as he laid on the bed, shuddering through his orgasm and breakdown. He wiped himself on his pants and pulled them down, then kicked them far away, not wanting to see the evidence of his weakness. He crawled under the cover, tears still falling, as he shoved his face deep into the pillow, to muffle the pathetic weeping. He fell asleep like that, his homework long forgotten.

Dave turned off the water and stepped out from the shower. He stretched himself, relishing in the pleasurable tiredness the sex always left in his muscles. The towel was then remissly swept over his chest, back and stomach, before being wrapped around his waist. He walked out from the small bathroom to the narrow corridor leading to his room, wet feet slapping against the tiles. He peeked inside. The twink of tonight was already gone. Nice. Dave liked men who knew how to take a hint, when they're not welcome. And sadly, not everyone recognized such things at first. People had this ridiculous notion that one-nightstands should end with one party still hovering around after the fucking. Dave certainly didn't need anyone to do so. So props for The Guy with a Freckle on His Neck, he surely spared Dave trouble of lying about calling him or meeting up for next time.

There never were any "next times" and Dave was more happy with this ordeal.

After years of hiding his attraction to men and believing he'll end up as one of those creepy bachelor uncles who talk to themselves in supermarkets… he landed in NYC, and got thrown in at the deep end, completely unprepared for the fact that some guys are apparently into sturdy dudes like him. He finally could let himself explore the for a long time restricted part of himself. And he wasn't going to limit himself to picking up snacks only from a plate offered by a nearby gay club. Here in New York, he had the whole fucking table to devour, and he was not going to pass on any delicious thing that caught his eye.

Dave went up to the bed and flickered the dirty cover off it, deciding to deal with it the next day. He pulled the towel off himself and throw it on top of the bundle. He slid under the duvet and laid on the bed, groaning quietly at the pleasurable feel of cold sheets against his still hot after the shower skin. He welcomed the quickly approaching sleep with relief. He had the rare possibility to sleep in tomorrow before going to work. Praise Mr Collins for canceling the class second time this month.

He was woken up way too early, by the obnoxiously loud neighbor from downstairs.

Again.

It was a long time since Kurt woke up in such a pitiful state.

The lamp on his desk was still casting the barely noticeable now light on his small, cramped room. It was on for the whole night apparently, but Kurt couldn't find yet the energy to move and turn it off. He sat up on his bed, wincing when he noticed he was still wearing clothes from the previous day. The shirt felt sweated and grubby against his chest. The pants were of course gone, still lying next to the bed, an accusatory reminder of his breakdown last night. And an ears-dropping induced arousal he wasn't going to think of. Ever. Kurt wiped the dry drool from the corner of his mouth and tapped at his hair, listlessly trying to smooth them into somewhat less spectacular disarray.

He heard Blaine moving around in their tiny kitchen and it stirred him into motion. He swept his legs over the edge of the bed, and tried to straighten the crumbled material of his shirt, but quickly gave up on the futile attempts. He stood, came up to the window and drew the aquamarine hangings aside to look at the crossroads before his building. The world was leisurely waking up, soon the streets will be stacked with cars and people, hurrying in every possible direction. He stretched in front of the window, relishing in the feel of gentle tension in his muscles.

The grumble in his stomach reminded him about breakfast, but Blaine was still in their apartment, and after the happenings of the last evening, Kurt didn't feel especially enthusiastic about seeing him. He turned off the table lamp and sat back on the bed, considering waiting until Blaine goes out to classes.

It was quite a turn around from the year before, when he was already in New York, pursuing his dreams, and Blaine was still in Lima, busy with the task of officially taking over the role of Glee Club's male leader. Back then, the shared time felt sacred. Every rare interaction was cherished, and every phone talk anticipated since the moment the last ended. At least at the beginning of their necessary separation. At least for Kurt.

Last year's Kurt, would rush to the kitchen to squeeze from the day as much time with Blaine as possible. Today's Kurt was here, ignoring the passing time and hunger gnawing at his insides, because he'd rather be late for classes and starved than forced to share a polite morning talk with Blaine.

Kurt sighed and came up to his only wardrobe, a voluminous piece of furniture barely fitting in the small space between the bed and the door, and filled to capacity with clothes. He found a pair of sweatpants in a drawer and extruded them from between the jammed clothes with a slight difficulty.

Moving out to New York taught him a lot of new things. Like, how to make use of every free space in his room so that all his things could be stored there. Where to buy healthy food that doesn't bankrupt him. Or how to cope with the fact that people drift apart. Or find out that moving in together doesn't strengthen an already falling apart relationship. It actually makes both parties awfully aware of each other's flaws and shortcomings, and strains their voices in countless arguments.

Kurt pulled the pants on and decided to go on with his life, a skill he mastered in last two months. Today's morning couldn't really challenge the awkwardness of the days right after the break-up, when they weren't speaking, aside from necessary exchange of courtesy, and one cold but courteous talk during which they decided to keep living together in the apartment. They realized that by moving out they would do themselves and each other a disservice. For Kurt living on his own was out of the picture, since he didn't make much money, working only on weekends, and he couldn't stand the thought of bugging Burt for more support when he was already such a burden. He suspected Blaine's parents wouldn't be pleased with the decision either. Besides, all the inconveniences taken into consideration, the place still was nice, the rent pretty low, a bargain price. And he liked it here. Most of the time.

The clock read 7:17 when Kurt walked out the door and covered the couple steps long distance between his room and the kitchen.

He was met with the neat scent of coffee and he inhaled it eagerly through his nose in a long intake of breath.

"Good morning." Blaine smiled from above his sandwich.

"Morning." Kurt responded and poured some of the liquid into a mug. He licked his lips and looked up at the other man before asking. "So how was yesterday?"

Maybe his was imagining things, but he could swear about the presence of faint blush on Blaine's cheeks.

"Nice. Very nice." Blaine said quickly and occupied himself with eating the rest of his breakfast.

"That's good. Happy for you." Kurt took a sip, counting seconds in mind until walking out with an excuse of getting ready for classes won't look as running away from the awkwardly stretching silence.

"You should go out with us someday, you know." Blaine said softly. "Meet people."

Kurt snorted derisively. "Thanks, if I'll ever feel like being a third wheel, I'll let you know."

Blaine sighed. "You're not going to be a…"

"Pipe it, Anderson." Kurt said lightly and came up to the fridge. "I don't even like clubbing. You should know that."

Blaine cleared his throat and waited for a moment before forming his thoughts. There was some life-changing advice coming up. Kurt suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

"I'm just saying. Don't close yourself to having fun. Live a little. You'll be surprised, but there's a whole world full of possibilities waiting for you."

Kurt closed the fridge and put a jar of marmalade on the table. He reached to the bread and, still without a world, opened the drawer to look for a knife. He caught Blaine's eyes boring into him, he was probably waiting for Kurt admit his mistake and thank for the wise words. And Kurt really should do that, just so he could get a break from Blaine's wisdom. He sighed.

"Right. One of them must be the possibility of taking a nice shower, so I hope you didn't use all the hot water." He said putting the knife done and deciding to finish the breakfast later. "So, now, if you excuse me."

He went straight to the bathroom, and turned the water on. Waiting for it to get warm, he stripped from his clothes. The showers always relaxed him, as it was this time. Soon, he started to sing to himself, trying to keep his voice down for the sake of neighbours.

Dave couldn't believe the impudence of the crazy living downstairs. Eight fucking in the morning and he was shrieking out some tearful song, didn't the guy had a basic sense of understanding how living around other people works?

He jumped out from under the cover and looked around his room. He walked out to his computer, and woke it up from being idle. He looked up songs he was sure his precious little neighbor will hate, and blasted the music out.

Kurt growled. He wiped himself hastily and walked out from the shower. You've got to be kidding me, he thought listening to the vulgar music coming from upstairs. Blaine was already gone. He grabbed a mop from the corner of the bathroom, walked out to the corridor, and rapped with it at the ceiling three times. The music stopped for a moment and he heard three loud thumps as well, the man was making fun of him again. Then the music blared again, even louder than earlier.

Kurt threw the mop on the ground, and it clattered on it loudly. He gritted his teeth, actually shaking with anger. The crude song was cut off out of sudden. Kurt, not trusting the silence, stared at the ceiling for a while, awaiting for the guy to tease him again. But there was no more sounds coming from above. Kurt dressed up still fuming over the irksome neighbor.

Frustrated, he went out to class, well knowing what will greet him in the evening.

After climbing up the stair on his floor, Kurt could already hear his neighbour having another encounter above. Of course. It would probably kill him if he didn't get to annoy the whole building one day. Kurt pulled the key out of his pocket and slid into the key lock. They turned with a soft click and Kurt opened the door. The volume of the sounds rose, which was a cruel joke form the builders of this old house. He went into his room and jumped his bag on the bed, too tired to care about it. He sat at his desk and sighed, stretching his neck.

The sudden scraping started him enough to grasp the edge of the desk in panic. The new noise added to the familiar gasps and cries, exacerbating the clamour from upstairs. Kurt's head snapped up and he stared at the ceiling, wide-eyed, for a moment. He stood up slowly, and went to the kitchen, where the noises were even louder. Kurt rose his eyebrows at Blaine, casually eating a salad there.

"What the hell is happening there?" Kurt murmured looking up.

"I think…" Blaine swallowed a bite and followed Kurt's gaze with his eyes. The scraping seemed to move towards the right wall, the sound coming in systematic pushes, as if something was being jerkily shuffled in the room above. "Yeah, I think someone is being fucked across the room on a table."

Kurt looked at him, taken aback by the language, but the other man was calmly consuming his meal.

Kurt bit his lip. A guy savage enough to just bend someone over the first accessible surface and ravish, fuck him until he's coming and crying his name. Kurt felt his body stirring in response to these imaginings, intensified by noises from upstairs. He was getting hard because of hearing someone having sex, again. No. Not happening. Nononono.

He turned to Blaine. "This is unacceptable." He said.

Blaine opened his mouth but whatever it was, what was being moved upstairs, seemed to reach its destination. The object hit the right wall of their kitchen and started thumbing against it, in accord with the oooohs and aaaahs. Kurt's eyes slid on a plate rack standing on the kitchen countertop. The plates, utensils and glasses left to dry there started clinking lightly against each other. Kurt's mouth dropped open. He and Blaine simultaneously looked at each other in surprise. Blaine snorted, breaking the eye contact, and went back to eating.

"Well, should this antic building fall apart one day, we'll know who to blame."

"How can you make light of this?" Kurt blurted, casting a suspicious glance at the dishes. He placed them apart from each other, to stop the annoying, clanging sounds.

Blaine shrugged. "Guy has an enviable stamina, that's for sure. I mean, you hear what is happening there. If one of us we ever to move out, we'll know who to ask for help with carrying out all the heavy stuff." He chuckled.

"Blaine, I'm serious." Kurt put his right hand on the hip and frowned at the other man. "This is getting preposterous. We should file a complaint at him to the landlord "

"What?" Blaine looked up at him again. "I was kidding about the building falling apart!"

"And I'm not kidding about going to the police or something! This has to stop!"

"Kurt, calm down. The guy's harmless." Blaine chewed a piece of carrot for a moment. "Why are you so jumpy?"

"It's meretricious and completely inappropriate to expose your neighbor to your sexual escapades!" Kurt said through clenched teeth.

"You're overreacting." Blaine's eyebrows knitted and he smiled, amused. Kurt knew that look so well. It was the "don't try so hard" look. The "are you really wearing this" stare. The "Oh, you." tell-tale glance after disclosing to him Kurt's vision of the perfect first time.

Blaine was thinking Kurt was adorably unreasonable.

Kurt felt the tears stating to prickle in his eyes, the common yet uncontrollable reaction when he was enraged and helpless at the same time. "It really bothers me, can't you see that?" He said, hating the whining tone his voice took in situations like that. Oh god, he was not going to cry over such thing in front of Blaine, on top of everything else. He blinked the tears away, letting himself be swept in rage instead.

"Oh my god, so he's having sex, what do you care?" Blaine raised his voice above the still loud sounds from upstairs.

"I do care about some slut bringing everyday skanks to our building!" Kurt yelled, just in time for all the other noise to die down.

Blaine frown at him disapprovingly. Kurt winced and looked up to the ceiling, feeling slightly bad about his outburst. That guy had to catch that, and it wasn't exactly a nice thing to hear. On the other hand, it served him right, for brashly demolishing the peace in their building.

Kurt threw one last, angry glance at Blaine and went back to his room to deal with his erection, throbbing for his attention for an already long while.

He closed the doors, and hurriedly started unbuttoning his pants before he even reached the bed. He pulled them to his knees and laid down on the cover.

He let himself come back to the thought about the man living above, just this time. Kurt wondered what he looked like.

A strong arms and a defined back appeared in his mind, completed by a set of two large hands pinning Kurt's wrists to the ground. Kurt would struggle at first, of course, not wanting to let the primitive lug have a way with him so easily, but then swept by the unbearable desire he would give himself up completely for the barbarian to ravage him. Yes.

Kurt licked his lips. The man was strong, he would have no problem picking Kurt up so he could wrap his legs around his undoubtedly thick waist. The fantasy was dirtier than anything he ever imagined. He realized that just minutes ago, the similar or maybe even exact same scenario was happening right next to him, and he came, muffling the harsh pants with his other hand. The white, sticky liquid covered his hand and groin, and was going to became dry and gross soon, but Kurt couldn't get himself to care just yet. He laid in the bed, trying to get a hold of his thoughts. The familiar, self-displeased feeling settled itself heavily over him.

He really needed to put a stop on the evening clamor.

Dave rubbed together his hands, numb from the cold, and hid them in the pockets of his jacket. The day was exceptionally cold, reminding everyone about abruptly upcoming winter. The branchy maple situated before the house he lived in appeared from behind the corner of another building, immersed in a light of a street lamp. It always reminded him about the one standing by his parent's house in Westerville. He hated that tree, ever since he tried to climb on it when he was eight and fell down on his butt. Dave sighed, and the puff whitened before him in the chilly air. There was no way to get rid of memories of his old house, no matter how much he tried. He walked off the pavement to go across the grass and shorten the way to the warm haven of his little apartment. Not so long ago, the maple was dropping its golden-red leaves on the square in front of the building, now the colorful carpet turned into gray, spongy mass under his shoes. He passed by the tree, and walked up to the front door of the building.

Dave climbed up the stairs, passing the consecutive floors. He stopped for a moment before the doors of number 627. The autumn was definitely over, the problems with his neighbors, however, were not. Dave patiently lived through weeks of fights and screams that other dwellers knew as September. Then he got to relax during October, when the guys who lived below him apparently started giving each other a silent treatment, just to be disappointed with them again, came November.

From the beginning of the semester, Dave was hoping that someday the men will break up, or kill each other, or do something else, anything, that would result in shutting the fuck up.

There were days when it seemed like they were annoyed by the sheer fact that the other one existed, so the fact that they continued living together just to argue some more, was beyond Dave. He wondered sometimes if they even knew how well he could hear them, because they seemed to talk -yell- about everything, and knowing who's turn it was this week to do dishes was seriously the last thing Dave was interested in. Sometimes he would think briefly about going down and setting some basic rules, but he didn't like interfering with other people's lives, so he kept his discomfort to himself. They never seemed to be home in the same time Dave was anyway. Apart from the evenings, and Dave's were usually busy. He smiled to himself, and turned the key, opening his apartment. His work at Jenny's combined with classes left him mentally drained, and deadly bfashiored. He dropped his backpack in the small corridor before going to the kitchen, and starting up a late dinner. He couldn't wait to get into the shower, and go out in city to haunt down some desert.

Kurt looked up from his book. The pipes whined announcing to Kurt the exact moments when water started running in the apartment next floor. He worried a lip between his teeth. His neighbor was home at the same time he was. That was pretty rare. And, without Blaine home to stop him, he could go and finally give that guy a piece of his mind.

Kurt smoothed his hair before the mirror and practiced a not-taking-any-shit expression for a moment. Satisfied with himself, he walked out the door. The short distance between two floors was covered way too soon. Kurt stood before the apartment of the man he hated. The door looked innocent, and nothing about their painted brown commonness could disguise hiding such a danger for common security.

Kurt ringed the bell, and when the door weren't answered in a minute, he knocked, feeling his calmness leaking out of him.

Dave cursed, after he slipped on the wet floor, and clenched his hand on the edge of the washbowl. "I'm coming," he growled and hastily wiped his face and chest with a towel, before wrapping it around his hips, and coming out of the bathroom. He unlocked the door with a sigh, preparing for a gust of cool air on his wet skin.

Kurt held his head high, ready to unleash his inner bitch at the man who forced him to wait. The doors opened and Kurt was greeted with a wide expanse of naked skin, still damp and evaporating after hot shower. The body was broad and thick, covered in hair carved into many paths leading along the breasts, around nipples hardened into dark buds, down the flat stomach. It disappeared under white towel wrapped around surprisingly trim waist. Kurt gulped audibly.

Dave's eyes slid up and down his visitor's body. Seemed like the dessert came to him today. Dressed in a peculiar, one armed sweater and a pair of skin-tight black pants. A fashionista, Dave thought, raising an eyebrow at the patterns of zebras on the man's belt. Well, it's been a while since he had one of those. Dave stopped his examination on the guy's face and suppressed an amused smile. He looked so young and innocent, all wide eyes and flushed cheeks, as if he saw a half-naked man for the first time in his life. Dave watched the guy wetting those sweet pink lips with a quick sweep of a tongue.

"Well hello there," he said louder than necessary.

Kurt's eyes snapped up at him in surprise and he swallowed impulsively before opening his mouth to vocalize a greeting.

"Enjoying the view?" Dave cut him off and leaned on the door frame.

Kurt's cheeks blossomed with embarrassment. Nevertheless, he cleared his throat, remembering what brought him there, and titled his chin in the air. "I need to talk to you," he started.

"Sure, we can talk," Dave said, and stretched his arms over his head, letting each muscle move under his droplet kissed skin. The towel fell to the ground.

Kurt inhaled sharply when his eyes involuntarily consumed the body before him. His hands flew to his face, covering his eyes.

"Problem?"

"Yes!" He nearly shrieked. "You can't flash yourself like this!"

"My apologies," Dave smirked, the tone of his voice was far from apologetic.

Kurt lowered his hands, glaring at him. "I won't take much of your time," he said, careful not to slid his gaze below the man's chin.

"You sure?" Dave let his eyes wander down Kurt's body, taking in the lithe frame. A shame he hid it away under layers of fabric. "I wouldn't mind."

"Excuse me?" Kurt asked warily. His neighbor's stare seem to gnaw at Kurt's clothes, as if he wanted to shred them to pieces. They eyes locked, the guy licked his lips and, for whatever reason, a ridiculous thought popped in Kurt's mind. This is how game feels caught in a snare. He frowned at the man under his scrutiny.

"I said I wouldn't mind you taking up my time, Tootsie. Or taking me up the..."

Kurt gasped, indignant. The words though went straight to his imagination, mingled with the fantasies he had about the man, and his body quickly responded, to Kurt's mortification. The all familiar heat spread over his abdomen and tightened his pants. It was happening again, his neighbor forced a reaction out of him, compelled him into feeling things he didn't want to.

"Who do you think you are?" Kurt growled at him, the frustration clear in his voice.

"David Karofsky. Not that I expect you to remember it when you're too far gone for words."

"Ha freaking ha, I'm not here for you to practise pathetic pick-up lines," Kurt folded arms over his thin chest to appear bigger. "We need to..."

All at once, Dave grabbed Kurt for his waist, and smashed against himself. He stilled his head with grip in Kurt's hair, and sealed his lips on his neck.

"Oh, fuck." Kurt gasped, as the pleasure with a right edge of pain pulsated from the spot Dave worked on. A low rumble of laughter from Dave's chest resonated through his own as he was pulled over the threshold into the apartment. Dave roughly unbuckled Kurt's belt, dragged it out of the loops, and sent it flying on the floor with a swoosh. Kurt pushed at his chest, trying to get free.

"What are you doing...!"

Dave backed him against the wall. Kurt whimpered as his wrist where pinned to the hard surface with almost bruising strength.

"What do you think?" Dave rasped. He unzipped Kurt's pants, tugged them over his ass cheeks, and there was no more time for questions.

Kurt's eyes widened in horror when he realized everyone who wanted to walk by could see them."Door, door, close the door," he chanted.

"Oh, so now you want inside?" Dave chuckled.

Kurt struggled in the tight embrace. "Close the fucking door, everyone can see us," he growled.

"You like it, don't you? Everyone knowing?" Dave whispered into his ear, one of his hand sneaked to wrap around his dick.

"No," Kurt said, hitting the back of his head on the wall covered in flowery wallpaper. "Let me go." He said wanly.

"You sure?" Dave fisted his cock, the organ already heavy in his hand. "You wouldn't want me to keep you right here while I fuck you? Make you scream until they all hear?"

Kurt shuddered against him, the memory of his wantings coming back to him in a rush.

"That's what I thought."

"W-we can get arrested..."

Dave bit into his neck, short of hard enough to withdraw blood. Kurt tensed, fuck!, and the teeth were gone, the tongue lapped at the mark, soothing the pain out of the spot.

"Well that wouldn't be as much fun, right?" Dave murmured into the skin on Kurt's neck.

"What?" Kurt turned his head to look at him. His thoughts escaped him as it was getting hard to focus.

Dave snorted into his neck, and suck the abused flesh into his mouth. Kurt arched against him.

"L-let me..." Kurt stuttered. The grip on his cock tightened in response, demanding a wanton moan from his lips.

"Go?" Dave finished. "That's what you want?" He stroke the cock fast and hard. Kurt whined, and it echoed on the staircase.

"I don't think so, Cutie," Dave said, holding Kurt close with an arm around his waist. "See, you come here, interrupt me and harp at me like a character from some cheap soap opera, and you think there won't be any repercussions? Now that just won't do."

Kurt groaned, his cock was dry, and the stroking began to feel like too much.

"I'm going to fuck you now, right here." Dave said, catching Kurt's breath in his throat. He rubbed his thumb over the head of the smaller man cock. "Yes or no."

"No," Kurt said. YES, his mind shouted.

Dave felt the fashionista sinking onto his chest, breathing hard. The delicate fingers clenched in his hair, guiding his mouth back on the neck. Dave released him from his embrace. Kurt stumbled, the pushed down pants restraining his motions, but caught the balance, gripping the wall. Dave kicked the door close. They shut with a loud bang, and left them in a stunning silence. Dave turned back around and Kurt had finally a chance to properly look him over. His mouth dropped open at the erection appearing between Dave's legs. His cock was, as far as Kurt's experience went, enormous and it didn't even look completely erect yet.

"You like?" Dave took himself in one hand, smiling widely. "It's all for you."

Kurt's cheeks reddened. "Neanderthal."

"Mouthy." Dave winced. "No one taught you manners?" Dave picked up the belt disregarded by the door earlier. He took it in both hands, and smacked it in the air, elicit something between moan and whine from Kurt.

"It's not polite to insult the chef before you try the entree." He said slowly coming up to the other man, and stroking himself to the full hardness.

Kurt backed away until his ass hit an edge of a cupboard. He didn't know it was possible for arousal to make people feel dizzy, until now that his thoughts were spinning in his head without any order and he could heart his heart rattling in his chest louder than the words of his neighbor.

Dave hovered over him, his chest nearly filling his vision. The belt fell forgotten next to them. Dave reached out, took Kurt's chin into his hand, and kissed him. Kurt dug his nails in the exposed flesh of the other man's neck, but it only made him press into him harder, drive his meaty thigh between Kurt's legs and rub his erection over Kurt's body leaving sticky paths of precum on his clothes. Kurt moaned, and sucked on Dave's tongue. The spit slicked their chins and lips. It was messy, and wrong, and so inappropriate.

Kurt liked being intimate with Blaine. They were each other firsts, of course he liked it. It was always sweet, and slow, and they'd talk before about how far they want to go. But Dave took
what he wanted without asking. Dave was all fire and Kurt felt it consuming him, entrapping his body. His back flared where Dave was pushing him onto the edge of the cupboard, and so sizzled the bruised neck marked by his teeth. His lungs were burning too. Kurt broke the kiss gasping for air. A strand of spit connected their lips, until Dave wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Kurt watched as the man's expressions shifted. The passion melted into something softer and more fragile. But Kurt wanted the fire to come back. He clung to the man again, caught his bottom lip between his teeth and bit it harshly.

Dave groaned deep at the bit. He'd been afraid for a moment the little harpy of a fashionista hadn't quite wanted this. The uncertainty pushed into his mind playing havoc at his morals. Men came into his bed wild and free to feel and touch and scream. He'd never ever wanted to force... well not more than his partner requested. Dave's huge hands scrambled for purchase on Kurt's thin wrists. He could capture them with one hand. His cock twitched.

"On the counter, twink."

The short break and a slur was enough for the passion to demote from rolling boil to simmer. Kurt looked behind him and turned to Dave with a raised eyebrow and a little pout. "You don't honestly expect me to hop on your board? Don't you have a bed in this cavern?"

"No, I expect you to hop on my dick. I didn't know I was bedding a princess instead of a slut. Should I set out the silk sheets as well?" Dave didn't stand prima-dona's. He came across them all the time, Queen bitch of the gaydom that really just needed a big strong man to fuck them into the ground. This one seemed the type.

Kurt's mouth opened into a little "oh". "I'm not a slut!" He short of squeaked the insult. "And you have nerve to call me that when you're the one bringing skanks to our building every night!"

"Our building? Wait..." Dave moved back a breath so he could look Kurt over in this new light. "You live here? Which apartament?"

Kurt rested a hand on his right hip, trying to look as composed and superior as one can with a cock dangling out of their pants. "627," he says with nose in the air.

"The singer. You and your boyfriend need to shut the fuck up about poptarts at 8 am in the fucking morning. No one cares they are unhealthy for him." Dave now had a face to put with the morning arias. At least it was a pretty face.

"I don't expect you to know about healthy food." Kurt wrinkled his nose.

"I take care of my body. As you were appreciating a second ago. Chill the fuck out." Dave groaned, reconsidering fucking the little irritant... though... with that singing voice he could probably make the most racy of sounds. "You sing in the shower every damn morning when I'm trying to sleep."

"What? How would you even hear that? I'm very strict about moderating the volume of my voice." Kurt straightened. The one thing he was proud of was his voice and the control he had over it. "But I don't suppose you'd appreciate a real talent." He said to himself.

"Our bathrooms are connected. There's a reason I swore off shower sex. Well that and the size of the damned thing. You voice echoes right up like the worst morning alarm." Dave's lips curved into a smirk as he watched Kurt get offended. Oh, that was hot.

"You know what?" Kurt grabbed his pants, and tugged them up. "I have better things to do than listening to you," he said trying to put himself in.

"How about me listening to you? Bet you scream sexy." Dave's hand pushed around Kurt's ribcage to trap him against Dave's body and his cock nudging right against Kurt's hip. "How about you come sing on that?"

Kurt hands come to the chest, keeping the man on a short distance. "I don't scream. I'm not an animal, I don't have to announce my coital patterns to the whole community."

"But you'll want to. How about this?" A playful light glinted from his brown eyes. "You don't make a sound while I fuck you and I promise to keep the sluts out for a month."

Kurt regarded him warily. It was a tempting proposition. "A month," he huffed, the competitive spark glittering in his eyes. "Make it three. And I'm allowed to talk. I'll have to step you through it somehow," he says, shrugging.

"Oh, you can talk. But I mean if your scream." He knew he had Kurt, bargaining was only a stage of acceptance. "Three months. And in exchange you will not sing before noon for 3 months. Or scream at your boyfriend over breakfast."

"Deal." Kurt said, holding up his hand in the small space between them.

He knew he should correct the man, say that Blaine is his ex. But for the first time in so long they were Kurt and Blaine, even if only in some noisy stranger's mind. And Kurt missed that.

"Good." Dave gripped Kurt's waist and hefted him up onto his shoulder. His free hand slapped the perfectly firm little buttock in his view. "Let's get that ass stretched."

Kurt clung to the shoulder, barely suppressing the shriek at sudden movement. "Let me down!"

"Nope. You're mine now prissy pants." Dave chuckled and made a quick pace through he relatively neat living room and into his bedroom. The entire place is filed to the brim with his California King monstrosity of a bed. He tossed Kurt right onto it before grabbing a bottle of lube that was oh so casually sitting on the dresser.

Kurt bounced slightly on the mattress. He spread his fingers over the material. "Most people invest their money into apartments rather evenly. I guess you decided to spend all your savings on one good thing and let everything else look like dragged out of the container."

"Figured I put it into what I use the most." He grinned wickedly. "Let's get your fancy ass out of those clothes." Dave reached for Kurt's waistband.

"I don't need you to destroy it further, okay," Kurt snapped, and battled his hands away. He began undressing, and folding every piece of clothing neatly.

Dave shrugged and sat laid himself out on the bed. His hands took cock in hand, stroking it to the image of Kurt's smooth skin. "If I'd know there was a sexy thing like you next door I would have been louder."

Kurt threw him an icy stare. "And what exactly do you think you'd you gain with that?" He pulled his undershirt over his head, and sat delicately on the edge of the bed, naked like the day he was born.

"Get you up here screaming faster." Dave licked his lips at Kurt. "Come on up here, Fancy." Dave wiggles the lube bottle at Kurt.

"At least do me a favor and quit with the nicknames," Kurt murmured as he crawled further onto the bed. He laid down next to Dave and spread his legs looking at ceiling. He hated that part, the embarrassingly intimate, fumbling fingering with constant imbalance of too-much-not-enough. He rested his hands on his stomach and sighed.

"No wonder you and boyfriend yell all the time..." Dave couldn't help it, the men he's used to plunge two fingers deep before they hit the sheets. Kurt looked like a 50's virgin bride. He clicks the bottle open for a moment before changing his mind and shutting it again. No way Kurt would be able to relax enough like this. He crawled forward and nipped Kurt's knee.

Kurt's leg blenched involuntarily. "This is not how you do stretching," Kurt said, irritated that the man was prolonging that part. "Get to work, I don't have the whole evening," he dropped his head back on the bed.

"Demanding." He complimented and moved in with his mouth. He nipped and kissed down Kurt's thighs.

Kurt's breath quickened as he watched from under half closed lids the man descending towards his forgotten cock. The slow, light touches felt good. He reached out and patted the man's head tentatively.

Dave chuckled right against Kurt's thigh. He shifted around to mouth up to the sensitive joint of Kurt's left leg. Right against he spoke. "Sex is supposed to be fun."

"I know that," Kurt said quickly. "I always have fun."

"You look ready to soldier through a war." Dave commended as his hands took up petting Kurt's hips.

"Well, excuse you," the icy bitch was back. "Some of us are not used to jumping into a bed of a total stranger. As far as I know, you could pull out an anal speculum any minute."

"And? You could have a medical kink." Dave's jackass smile burst over his face. He continued his finger's slow exploration of Kurt's waist, his lips touching stomach.

Kurt sat up eyeing him with a judgemental stare. "Listen up. I don't have medical kink, or any kink for that matter. Stop making this weirder than it already is." He laid back down and closed his eyes, focusing on the soft touches.

"No kinks?" Seriously, the guy must lead the most boring life ever. Dave continued his soft exploration. He focused on the spots that got the most response, his teeth coming into worry at the flesh of his nipples.

Kurt bit his lips, determined to win the bet, but the slow nibs and suction were becoming maddeningly unbearable. "Get in me. Just. Please."

"I love begging." He chuckled right into Kurt's ear. He then licked the shell. Dave's free hand had grabbed the bottle, surreptitiously slicking his fingers while he warmed up the little ice diva.

Kurt squirmed under the sensation, and held onto the broad shoulders. Then he felt a wet digit probing at his hole and tensed, before taking a deep breath and trying to relax. It was going to be worth in the end, he knew it would.

Dave went slow, his fingers petting and circling the entrance. His mouth licked along the pale throat. He smiled against the skin as his mouth found the mark from his earlier bite. That should be more permanent. His mouth latched on, sucking at the skin.

Kurt breathed heavily and tightened his grip on Dave's arms. He turned his head to the side, brushing over the other man's skin, letting his lips graze his ear.

Dave growled at the light brush on his ear. He wanted Kurt's passion, needed it if he was going to get the countertenor screaming. He could feel Kurt's ass relaxing. Looked like Kurt liked it rough. Good. Dave switched sides and bit down hard on Kurt's shoulder right as his index slid inside.

Kurt desperately tried not to clench his muscles. The finger was thick and intrusive. Kurt scraped Dave's back, distracting himself from the slight burning. God, the man seemed to have hair everywhere. Kurt run his hands up and down the other man's spine, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses on his ear and cheek, wherever he could reach.

Dave's hand stilled, resting inside Kurt as the inner muscle tensed and fluttered around his finger. His mouth licked the abused skin on Kurt's neck with apologetic licks. The making up didn't last long. His teeth dug into the column of Kurt's elegant neck, again marking him. Finally the inner muscle exhausted and his was able to slid in.

Kurt groaned softly and muffled it turning side of his face to the pillow. His cock laid heavy on his abdomen, the erection not shrunk in the slightest. He felt it twitch again when the teeth sunk into his neck. His bit his lip hard to not make any more noises. They didn't even started and he was losing the damn bet. "God, finally, I started to think you changed your mind," he murmured when the finger went deeper.

"No no. You're going to scream from pleasure not from pain. I'm very thorough." His finger began to pump in and out of Kurt, letting the muscle have plenty of time to get used to his intrusion. He leaned closer to Kurt's chest, his furred stomach pressing Kurt's cock between them. Dave's own manhood rubbed along Kurt's hip bone from Dave's slightly skewed angle that allowed him to kiss Kurt and finger him. Gently a second finger entered.

Kurt tried to roll his hips to meet the fingers. "For the last time..." Kurt started just to be muffled with Dave's mouth.

Dave laughted, his lips finding a path down to Kurt's jaw. "Bitchy bitchy. You'll get what you need to sing, Nightingale." His fingers spread inside Kurt, pressing at his inner walls as his hand slipped nearly out.

Kurt inhaled a sharp breath when the tight ring of his muscles was suddenly stretched open. His eyes shut close, but he forced himself to spread his legs further and relax. "Now we're getting somewhere."

Dave rotated his wrist, easing Kurt open to take a third finger. He didn't search for Kurt's button, not yet. He didn't want to touch that one until he could push all the way inside Kurt's pale ass. His mouth left Kurt's ear, choosing instead to explore the dip of his collarbone, a bite ensuring another make. His teeth scraped over the pink stiffness of Kurt's nipples before soothing with licks. By the time the huge man's tongue found Kurt's navel his pinky had found it's way in beside his other thick fingers.

Kurt was vaguely aware that he must have tweaked and pulled the cover with all the clenching his fingers were making. He never was stretched that much, and he felt on the edge of his limit. The heavy panting proved impossible to keep quiet so he let himself take deep breaths when the man was working his fingers inside of him. Normally, Kurt would be red with embarrassment at how on display he was, with legs wide open and the lights still on. He never felt more self-conscious than in moments like this. Blaine promise it'll be over soon, and actually get to the pleasant part faster. "Enough, I'm good, just start already," Kurt mumbled into the pillow.

Dave kissed the pale stomach under him once before straightening up. "Can you come more than once in a row?" Dave asked as his hand slid smoothly out of Kurt. He watched the wide muscle twitch, desperate to be filled again. Beautiful. Dave grabbed a towel, conveniently in the second drawer right beside the bed. He made quick work of his hand before pulling out a specialty Condom. Yes, it was the large size, yes, he was rather proud of himself for getting to purchase XL rubbers.

"I... I guess so. Yes," Kurt said propping up on his elbows. He doubt he'd problems with performing for the second time, if only he had a moment to revitalize. Not that he had many memories to support that thesis, as he and Blaine rarely got a chance to be together for a whole night. He watched the man putting on a sheath over his cock and bit his lips. It was going to hurt, he was sure of that. He dropped on his back nevertheless, and groped his dick.

"Not all men can." Dave offered as he poured the latex safe (which all of his lubes were) slick over his cock. His head fell back for a moment as his hand spread the liquid. Stretching Kurt had left him aching. He brought himself out of it after a moment and searched his drawer. A different colored bot entered his dry hand. It was the traditional brand, average condoms. He placed one on Kurt's stomach. "Slip that on for me?"

Kurt raised an eyebrow and held the slice of rubber between two fingers. "What for? As far as my experience goes, the stretched one bottoms. "

"Does the stretched one not want to get sucked off?" Dave's offered his own eyebrow raise.

"Why would... oh." Kurt looked at the condom and then at Dave again when the realization settled in. He was going to give head... with a condom? Kurt had insisted on a condom after he and Blaine's first time due to the mess of it all but to use it during oral seemed... insulting. "Exactly how many lovers do you think I've had?"

"Look, bet or no bet, I'm not risking myself for you. You might not know what you have and trust me I don't want herpes." Dave stilled, his clean hand rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "Condom or no blowjob."

"Whatever." Kurt ripped the package open and slid the condom on himself, fumbling with it a little. It was odd how out of practise he could get because of couple months long break. "Why you are so set on prolonging this is beyond me," he murmured, and turned his head to the side, exposing the bruised neck again.

The bear's fingertips petted the dark blemishes. "Why would I want to just get it over? It's fun, feels good and is good for you." Dave leaned in to press his lips against the place he touched.

"What's in it for you?" Kurt flinched when the hickey on his neck was teased. "You're nursing an erection for a while, I bet you can't wait to sink into me. Might as well be my guest already."

"I want to hear you." It was a simple enough statement, but Kurt seem to want everything pulled out. He petted Kurt's stomach, circling into the neat patch of hair before trailing a finger down over the curve of Kurt's balls. "It's fun to me to give pleasure. Makes me feel like a big strong man."

Kurt snorted. "I see, you add color to your blue collar life by giving sexual services to other men. Fascinating. Can we get down to the business?" He folded thin arms over his chest and looked down expectantly at the other man.

Dave rolled his eyes and grabbed Kurt's hips. He lifted the man up, bringing the sheathed cock up to him. A devil's own smirk painted his lips. "Blue-collar has it's advantages." His arms flexed as he pressed Kurt's knees to hook over his shoulders. He swallowed down Kurt's length in one well practiced slide.

Kurt's breath hitched and he involuntary grabbed the cover for some sort of shore when he was half lifted from the mattress. His cock was straightaway engulfed in Dave's mouth and he couldn't help but gasp. The familiar sensation was dimmed by the condom, but Dave made up for it with his skills.

One of his hands spanned the entirety of the small of Kurt's back to support him. The other gripped Kurt's hip. Dave concentrated on his breathing, waiting until he could swallow, his throat tightening around Kurt. He leaned his neck back to slide Kurt out to just the tip before plunging back down to base. Dave made a small gag as he accommodated Kurt into his throat again.

Kurt whimpered. This was not how he remembered receiving fellatio. He breathed heavily, trying to regain some control over his body, because the tight hot thrusting was bringing him to the edge. And, yes, it's been a while since he was sucked off, longer even than since he had sex, but come on, it couldn't end so soon. Kurt gripped fistful of hair and stilled the man's head on his organ, enjoying just the heat around him. He thrust experimentally in.

Dave moaned loud as he could manage around Kurt's length. He loved a man not afraid to give a little aggression of his own. He knew his size was intimidating and plenty of the twinks went from high bitch to submissive sluts at the feel of him, but you have a man of Kurt's size fight back... delicious.

Kurt rolled his hips at his own pace, his eyes fixated on the lips stretched around him. Taking control over the speed didn't help him in the slightest, because now he could guide the irritating man the way he wanted, and damn, that was hot. David just let him fuck his face, and he was getting off on it. Kurt's cock laid heavy on the man's tongue, and Kurt knew in the matter of moments he was going to come into the condom. He whined at that thought, not willing to finish yet.

Dave was breathing through his nose, his body on fire. He needed to get in Kurt now! He moaned again around Kurt. His arms tensed to hold Kurt safe as he came. He waited for the sounds.

Kurt arched, his mouth opened and eyes shut tight. Months of trying to be intimate with a family downstairs paid off and he didn't scream, regardless of the diabolical force of his climax. His fingers clenched in Dave's hair as he rode the orgasm. He fell back onto mattress, red-faced, breathing heavily, and completely boneless. Kurt's hands slid listlessly towards his crotch and he peeled the condom off himself, watching the other man through half closed eyes. The sperm spilled a little down his shrunk organ and he winced, grossed out by the mess. He pressed the loaded condom to Dave's chest, leaving it for the man to deal with it. Kurt wiped his hands on the sheets, nose still wrinkling in disgust. God, he must look terrible. He always did after an orgasm. His skin was undoubtedly pinked, with red blotches on cheeks and chest. Kurt sat up and run his fingers through his hair, trying to arrange them back to an acceptable look.

Carefully Dave lowered Kurt's hips to the bed. He wiped at the corner of his mouth, the latex taste lingered. He glanced over to Kurt... fixing his hair? Who grooms mid-sex? It wasn't a photo shoot. He snorted once before taking the used rubber.

Dave disposed of the condom quick enough. The waste basket was in easy reach. One that was done with he sunk onto the bed on his hands and knees, his eyes nearly black. "In you. Now."

Kurt gave his hair one last tug and settled down spreading legs. "Finally," he said hiding spiked up breath with a sigh.

Dave's rough hands pressed from knee to the joint of Kurt's hip. He tugged Kurt into the right position. The face-fucking had kept Dave's prick as hard as ever so, when he pressed tip to the opened circle, his cock would not yield. The broad lover pushed in, the pace as slow as he could manage but never stopped searching for the depth of Kurt.

Kurt's hands went to the wide shoulders, and gripped them as his ass was being stretched by the prominent thickness. He whined softly, the entering was more painful than he thought.

Dave finally felt Kurt's firm cheeks press to his hips. He could feel Kurt around him, impossibly tight, incredibly hot. He was thankful for the condom dulling just enough to keep him in control. He watched Kurt's face closely, waiting for some sign he could continue.

Kurt stayed still, with his eyes closed, afraid of moving. He felt like the cock was nearly splitting him. He never was penetrated as deeply. He never even thought he could be. His eyes fluttered open and he gazed at the face hovering over him. "Move."

Dave's growled, not true words, but a clearly animistic approval rolled from his chest and into his muscles, his hips sliding out just a fraction and snap back in. The slap of skin against skin seemed to echo in the room. Come on pretty, scream.

Kurt gasped, his fingers scraped down the man's shoulders as he pressed his hands onto the arms, unwittingly pushing him away. He might have left some marks there but couldn't care less. He recovered quickly from the first shock and clung to the arms, stopping the man from pulling away.

Dave pulled out to about halfway before pushing back in. The little nails giving into his arms heightened each pleasurable spark. He sifted, one arm scooping under Kurt's hips to lift him slightly ligh from the bed. Each move pulled a little further out before plunging back in swiftly. He drug out the pleasure for himself. His size had a few very distinct advantages. Once he was out to the very head his low voice purred. "Scream for me."

He slammed all the way back in, his cock filling the tight channel so completely that Kurt's prostate would continually be pressed against.

The pain and arousal convoluted in one. "Oh, god," Kurt cried out, unable to stop himself. He wasn't ready for it to feel good just yet.

Dave's free hand wrapped around Kurt's cock, just holding it in his warm hand as his body pushed in and out of Kurt. He used the arm around Kurt's waist to slam him again Dave's hips every single thrust. The first cry from Kurt was perfect; Dave wanted more.

After his shout it was as if some barrier broke deep inside him and Kurt couldn't hold back anymore. Normally he'd feel self-conscious, but Dave never gave him a moment for any self-doubt to start during the thorough fucking into mattress. He barely could hear anything else over his own harsh panting and the creaking of the bed. Kurt wrapped his small hand over Dave's where it held his cock and squeezed, urging him to tighten the grip.

The headboard slammed into the wall, the rhythm of his thrusts tapping like a telegraph into every other apartment in the adjoined floors. Kurt's screams were accompanied by Dave's bass growls. His fist closed around Kurt and tugged. It wasn't in time to his thrusts, he barely had the motor control to keep Kurt from falling from his arms let alone coordinate. He needed Kurt to come, needed him to find his peak before he could allow himself to come.

"Don't stop, don't stop, don't..." Kurt's nails dug deep into the flesh on Dave's shoulders, and he came, shooting between their bodies. He heard himself scream but it was distant and muted. His vision went white, and he dropped back on the mattress, blacked out.

Blaine poured the chopped carrot into a bowl. The salad was almost ready. He popped one of the pieces into his mouth, and chew it looking at the ceiling. The banging caused all of Kurt's expensive glasses in the cupboard to clink together.

"Thank god Kurt's not home yet," he murmured to himself after swallowing. "That had to be the loudest fuck this building heard."