(Untitled)
Who: Finn Hudson and Kurt Hummel
What: What indeed. 8D;
Where: Locker room.
Rating: GONNA HAVE TO SAY NC-17.
( Aesthetically speaking, this was all wrong. )
What: What indeed. 8D;
Where: Locker room.
Rating: GONNA HAVE TO SAY NC-17.
( Aesthetically speaking, this was all wrong. )
But this...this...Kurt hadn't prepared for this in the slightest. He hadn't expected to feel those strong arms wind around him, hadn't expected to be pulled closer, and the heartbeat that Finn was able to feel was racing now. He almost didn't feel the unpleasant stick of Finn's t-shirt against his own skin, such was his surprise.
...and Kurt was just standing there.
Not one to let an opportunity pass him by (no matter how strange or fleeting it might be), the smaller boy moved his hands, looping his arms more securely around the quarterback's broad shoulders, and pressed into this kiss with much less timidity. So much less, in fact, that he parted his lips, just enough to pull the other's lower lip between them and give a brief suckle on it. (--Chapstick, he would have to introduce Finn to Chapstick, but that didn't matter, that didn't matter because his mouth was soft and warm and so like he'd imagined it--)
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The kiss reached its inevitable end. Finn loosened his hug, but couldn't quite bring himself to let go completely.
"Hey." He couldn't really think of anything else to say, and filled the silence in with a sheepish smile instead. "This, uh, this shirt's kind of wet now."
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--but, there was the fact that those arms remained loosely about him. Finn wasn't yanking away, running in the opposite direction, and that was an interesting enough phenomenon.
There was a nervous flutter somewhere within him--in his heart, his head, his stomach, he couldn't tell--when he looked up, eyes opening, though the half-tilt smile that came onto his lips came strangely naturally. Almost teasing, infinitely more confident than he felt.
The sheepish, confused look on the object of his affection's face was endearing, and there was a dimmer, sweeter flutter inside of Kurt's body, one that he was much more acquainted with--the one that had caused him to start this whole thing in the first place. Blue eyes lowering to the damp shirt that clung to Finn's skin, that smile widened just a little bit, breathing out a light chuckle as he brought a hand back to pluck at the fabric a bit. "That can't be terribly comfortable," he said, and his voice was quieter than he liked it--he was in a precarious position, somewhere between terrified and excited, peppered with a touch of amusement, and he honestly would have been surprised if the other boy couldn't hear his heart hammering in his chest.
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He moved back a step, sliding his hands off Kurt's back. He tugged his shirt off over his head, trying to think of words to describe what had just happened. He stared at the crumpled the damp cotton in his hands.
He looked back to Kurt. His eyes were so bright, why hadn't he noticed that before? "That was... pretty nice. What, what was that for?"
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At least, until that question was asked. The smaller boy was certain he felt his heart skip a beat, and his eyes closed with the sickly lurch, leaning back against the cold steel of the lockers again. Why did he have to ask something like that, so innocently, as though the implications weren't as deep-running as they were? But then...that innocence was one reason Kurt so adored him.
Another chuckle escaped him, this one a mere breath, almost in self-deprecation. He hadn't imagined that his confession (if there was to be one at all, he hadn't ever really planned on it--but then, could he lie, straight-faced, without regretting that even more?) would be quite this hard, and he hated the quavering feeling that had taken the entire inside of his body--thank god it didn't show outwardly--despite his best efforts. A deep breath, and, "I guess I'm glad it wasn't obvious." An avoidance, just buying himself time. Kurt wasn't even sure what he was so afraid of, but that nameless thing caused his eyes to burn annoyingly behind his closed lids, and his throat to tighten, which he swallowed hard against. "I've...liked you for a long time. That's...that's all."
'That's all,' except for the fact that 'like' was too gentle a term and that wasn't all, but...perhaps gentle was the way to go right now. That way, the rejection wouldn't be quite as deep.
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"I, never really noticed, er, knew, or yeah." Finn scratched the back of his neck, suddenly self-conscious. He couldn't really think up a response. He didn't want to make Kurt cry, but he was pretty sure almost anything he said would end up that way.
He put his hand on Kurt's shoulder, then paused. He pulled him against his chest in another hug. "I'm glad you told me, and that was , it was nice. I mean, you liked it too, right?" Quinn always told him he was a terrible kisser, "It's not really something I've done before, uh, ever?"
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But there was the reality of it that taunted him; that it didn't matter, that the quarterback of the football team was in love with the head cheerleader and that's how it was, that's how it always was, and on the off chance that it wasn't there was the beautiful, misunderstood diva that appealed to Finn's other half already waiting in the wings, ready to swoop in at a moment's notice.
...and it was beginning to get really, really irritating to choke back his own feelings for the sake of how things were.
He knew just how dangerous this was, how badly things could go wrong and how badly he might be hurt, but...there was an opportunity, and Kurt had no choice, really, but to seize it. Hand lightly settling at the base of Finn's neck once more, his eyes closed and he leaned up again, pulling, lips moving against the other's, "Again." No more than that, just a simple--what was it? statement? plea? command?--word, and the distance was closed, mouths pressed together anew. Though perhaps with a touch more neediness this time.
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He just happened to be here in the locker room making out with him. Kurt was really pretty. And his lips were totally soft. He was pretty sure wasn't into guys, but maybe he just hadn't thought about it before. Because he could definitely get into this. Even his skin was soft. Whoah, was this second base? I really hope Coach Tanaka doesn't come back.
Their chests pressed together, closer, and more sensitive without the barrier of the shirt. The water's slick sensation was completely different then the uncomfortable cold it had been the first time. It was warm, and so were they and every feeling melted into the moment.
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Even if Finn wasn't really responding yet, it was nothing that Kurt could particularly blame him for; this was overwhelming enough for himself, he could only imagine how the other felt. But at the same time, he wasn't repulsed, he was letting the smaller boy do this and those arms stayed where they were around his thin waist, and that was something to cling to, something that kept Kurt from passing out from the sheer anxiety of it.
--anxiety that, moment by moment, was slipping away, draining out and leaving a void that was flooded by something much warmer. Kurt shivered a bit, barely noticeably, when he realized that this was in fact happening, that he'd grabbed a chance and it hadn't exploded in his face, the boy he so loved was in his arms and their lips and bodies were together, breath mingling, and oh god he ached for more. And he had every intention of milking this for all it was worth; it was entirely possible that Finn might not want to see him again after this, so the moment was worth picking while it was ripe. After all, it was far too late to go back now.
A nearly inaudible sound, almost like a soft whimper but quieter yet than that, escaped Kurt as he pressed himself up more, against Finn's mouth, gentle but insisting when he slipped his tongue out past his lips, past the other's. He'd never actually...kissed this way before, but he knew what to do, and he'd always imagined that he would be good at it, but the only way to know was to put it into practice--and...oh...this was good. This felt really good. It hadn't really occurred to him until this moment that the tongue was such a sensitive thing, but as he slid it gently against Finn's, he nearly shuddered from the feeling.
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He pulled back from the kiss, suddenly overstimulated by the whole experience, "Kurt, I gotta," There wasn't anywhere in particular that sentence was headed. Finn collapsed onto a bench and ran both hands through his hair, "so, you like me? I, guess? I don't know what to do?"
His breathing was still heavy. He looked up at Kurt, hoping he wouldn't look on the verge of tears again.
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If Kurt was aware of this, however, it didn't show. Too distracted...so obviously, even if Finn was bad at this, it was still good enough to stir up this reaction.
Unconsciously he licked at the corner of his mouth, just once, his own breath just as heavy as Finn's as the smaller boy looked at him, almost a little hazily. He was babbling...not that Kurt could blame him, but there was nothing in there that he could give a distinct answer to, so instead he posed his own question, "Is it bad...?" --oh dear, he wondered if his voice was actually coming out as breathy as it sounded in his head.
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"Hey, you're pretty, pretty hot when you're all naked like that." Wow, that sounded retarded "Well, I mean. You know what I mean."
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Still, he couldn't seem to find his breath. He felt cold despite the lingering damp heat in the room, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that the reason was that he hadn't had enough yet, he wanted to be touched again, to touch, to soothe this ache that had spread through his entire body. But there was hesitation now, and Kurt's eyes fell to the side slightly, heavy heartbeat keeping his breath uneven.
Finn couldn't be so dense that he didn't realize what this was doing to the smaller boy, those words, that look, and he wasn't doing anything--
But then, nothing could be that painless, could it? The thought made Kurt's lips curl up a bit more, and his gaze slid back to Finn, a look that was almost coquettish. He didn't bother readjusting the towel back to its place at his waist, and he slinked his hip slightly to the side in a way he'd always thought looked nice when he'd sing to his hairbrush in his bathroom's full length mirror after a shower. (Didn't everyone do that?)
"Yeah, I know," he answered (and yes, his tone was indeed as breathy as he'd thought it was), "You aren't so bad yourself." Not that Finn was nearly as naked as Kurt was, but that was aside the point. "You know what I mean."
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Finn stumbled to his feet, stopping his momentum with one hand against the lockers, grabbing Kurt around the waist with his other arm. What am I doing? The actions barely made sense in his mind, but the returning sensation of skin-on-skin took over the softly protesting logic. Things had already progressed to a point where the overwhelming need took over.
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Before that progression of thoughts even finished, however, Kurt was yanked back against the warmth he'd been left craving; a gasp escaped his lips, and his blue eyes widened in surprise for a moment. Only a moment, though. Just long enough to realize that this was no fantasy: Finn had just grabbed him about the waist and his breath was heavy, his eyes darker, bordering on lustful, and it was the way Kurt had fantasized but better.
The rush of sudden excitement made him feel a little weak, and to compensate he melted into place against Finn's warm body, lithe hands slowly (intentionally slowly, at that) working their way up his well-defined chest to find their place about his neck again. His legs seemed to shiver and so did his breath; the way Finn held him like this even had their hips pressed together. So warm, so impossibly warm, he felt like he was burning from the inside out...and a lower, deeper (but still familiar enough) ache was beginning to work its way into its place.
There was no need whatsoever to respond to the mumbled thanks of course, but it came anyway, somewhere between a whisper and a smoky tone as Kurt's eyes half-lidded under thick lashes, gaze falling to Finn's lips again, "You're welcome."
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The little things he was noticing now were weird. Like how Kurt's hair smelled really nice, and how his lips were flush and he still really liked how soft they were. His fingertips brushed against each feature as he thought about it, the involuntary response.
"So did you? You know, right?" I really hope he doesn't want to pray.
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