Fic: Dangerous Habits (2/??)
Title: Dangerous Habits (2/??)
Author: Duo-chan Maxwell
Rating: now, R. Going all the way to NC-17 later
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Kurt, Puck. Brief mention to Finn. Puckurt.
Genre: Non!Established, Smut, Multipart WIP
Warning: Voyeurism, TWT?
Spoilers: Season 2, just to be safe
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, this is a fictional writing: any resemblances with real people or situations is purely coincidental, this is for entertainment purposes only. Me, the puckurt comm and the gleekinkmeme comm are not making any money out of this (sadly).
Author Notes: Written for this prompt in glee_kink_meme. Unbeta-ed, all errors are my fault.
Summary: Kurt has the habit of getting undressed with his door open. Puck goes over to play videogames with Finn and he notices.
Word Count: 693
X-Posted to puckurt: Here
The next Friday, Puck was early again. Not on purpose, of course. He was early because he already got everything he needed to bring, his Ma was working the nightshift, Sarah was at a sleepover and he was, of course, bored as hell.
Going up the stairs, he saw Kurt again. Undressing again. With the door open. Again. This time, Kurt was occupying a different spot in the room, the lighting that seeped through the window making him look even more ethereal than he already was. Not that Puck was complaining. Not at all. This different location offered him a better view than last week.
Kurt was wearing more layers this time. A vest, a shirt and maybe an undershirt, that skintight jeans and bare feet. Probably he was going to have a few more minutes to appreciate the sight of Kurt getting undressed, second thoughts about Finn, shame and his straightness be damned.
Specially the last one. After having his gay freak-out during Friday and his big epiphany Saturday morning after a very wet dream that left him hard and aching like an overexcited twelve-year old and almost made him wake up he decided that what was hot was hot, and if it was going to be sweet (not) little (not anymore) Kurt, he was going to enjoy the ride.
And enjoy the ride he did. Kurt didn't take much long removing the vest, but he paused a little to smooth the creases it left in his shirt (probably something designer that Puck didn't even dare to try pronouncing) before opening it with almost painful care. The shirt was thin, a little see-through, and Puck's thoughts immediately wandered to how it would look if Kurt wasn't wearing the wife beater (WIFE BEATER!! Kurt was wearing a goddamned wife beater!) underneath. How he would be able to see a hint of perky little nipples, darker than the flawless porcelain skin, slightly erected due to the feathery friction from that shirt.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, something slapped him. Let's keep with the plot, Puckerman! You're missing the show!
Indeed. During his musings, one shoulder was revealed and then the other. Now, the shirt was caught in the soprano's elbows, a slight movement telling Puck that Kurt forgot to unbutton the cuffs and now was struggling against them. It was strangely sexy, seeing the shirt half hanging, pale skin glistening in the light from the window, shoulder blades rippling slightly and a little moving of hips here and there as Kurt moved the weight from left foot to right foot and back to left foot.
After that moment, the shirt was carefully placed in a chair and Puck's favorite part (since when he had a favorite part??) was going to start.
Kurt bent over again, sliding the jeans painfully slowly down his hips, adding a little wiggle here and there to help. Puck's dirty dirty mind immediately wandered off again, thinking how would it feel to grind against that round ass, pulling it against him and bending the soprano over using his weight. From there, it was a slippery slope: watching him bend down even more and wondering how would it feel to pound into that tight velvety heat, hearing breathy high-pitched moans from that pink full lips he previously bit and sucked until they were cherry red and plump. How that cherry red and plump lips would look and feel wrapped around his cock, lubing him with saliva, teasing instead of pleasing, just to add more tension.
At some point, instead of being bitch-slapped back into ogling Kurt by his own mind, his eyes went wide in shock. His last week's musings were true. When the brunette pushed the skintight jeans past his hips and revealed what was hidden beneath them, the only thing Puck could do was to gape and do a pretty lame impression of a stunned fish.
The only thing that covered that pale smooth skin was a thin line of black lace from a thong.
Oh. Holy. Fuck.
Once again, he scurried away from Kurt's door, this time using the bag of chips to hide his boner.
Many thanks to everyone who read and commented on this =]
Author: Duo-chan Maxwell
Rating: now, R. Going all the way to NC-17 later
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Kurt, Puck. Brief mention to Finn. Puckurt.
Genre: Non!Established, Smut, Multipart WIP
Warning: Voyeurism, TWT?
Spoilers: Season 2, just to be safe
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, this is a fictional writing: any resemblances with real people or situations is purely coincidental, this is for entertainment purposes only. Me, the puckurt comm and the gleekinkmeme comm are not making any money out of this (sadly).
Author Notes: Written for this prompt in glee_kink_meme. Unbeta-ed, all errors are my fault.
Summary: Kurt has the habit of getting undressed with his door open. Puck goes over to play videogames with Finn and he notices.
Word Count: 693
X-Posted to puckurt: Here
The next Friday, Puck was early again. Not on purpose, of course. He was early because he already got everything he needed to bring, his Ma was working the nightshift, Sarah was at a sleepover and he was, of course, bored as hell.
Going up the stairs, he saw Kurt again. Undressing again. With the door open. Again. This time, Kurt was occupying a different spot in the room, the lighting that seeped through the window making him look even more ethereal than he already was. Not that Puck was complaining. Not at all. This different location offered him a better view than last week.
Kurt was wearing more layers this time. A vest, a shirt and maybe an undershirt, that skintight jeans and bare feet. Probably he was going to have a few more minutes to appreciate the sight of Kurt getting undressed, second thoughts about Finn, shame and his straightness be damned.
Specially the last one. After having his gay freak-out during Friday and his big epiphany Saturday morning after a very wet dream that left him hard and aching like an overexcited twelve-year old and almost made him wake up he decided that what was hot was hot, and if it was going to be sweet (not) little (not anymore) Kurt, he was going to enjoy the ride.
And enjoy the ride he did. Kurt didn't take much long removing the vest, but he paused a little to smooth the creases it left in his shirt (probably something designer that Puck didn't even dare to try pronouncing) before opening it with almost painful care. The shirt was thin, a little see-through, and Puck's thoughts immediately wandered to how it would look if Kurt wasn't wearing the wife beater (WIFE BEATER!! Kurt was wearing a goddamned wife beater!) underneath. How he would be able to see a hint of perky little nipples, darker than the flawless porcelain skin, slightly erected due to the feathery friction from that shirt.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, something slapped him. Let's keep with the plot, Puckerman! You're missing the show!
Indeed. During his musings, one shoulder was revealed and then the other. Now, the shirt was caught in the soprano's elbows, a slight movement telling Puck that Kurt forgot to unbutton the cuffs and now was struggling against them. It was strangely sexy, seeing the shirt half hanging, pale skin glistening in the light from the window, shoulder blades rippling slightly and a little moving of hips here and there as Kurt moved the weight from left foot to right foot and back to left foot.
After that moment, the shirt was carefully placed in a chair and Puck's favorite part (since when he had a favorite part??) was going to start.
Kurt bent over again, sliding the jeans painfully slowly down his hips, adding a little wiggle here and there to help. Puck's dirty dirty mind immediately wandered off again, thinking how would it feel to grind against that round ass, pulling it against him and bending the soprano over using his weight. From there, it was a slippery slope: watching him bend down even more and wondering how would it feel to pound into that tight velvety heat, hearing breathy high-pitched moans from that pink full lips he previously bit and sucked until they were cherry red and plump. How that cherry red and plump lips would look and feel wrapped around his cock, lubing him with saliva, teasing instead of pleasing, just to add more tension.
At some point, instead of being bitch-slapped back into ogling Kurt by his own mind, his eyes went wide in shock. His last week's musings were true. When the brunette pushed the skintight jeans past his hips and revealed what was hidden beneath them, the only thing Puck could do was to gape and do a pretty lame impression of a stunned fish.
The only thing that covered that pale smooth skin was a thin line of black lace from a thong.
Oh. Holy. Fuck.
Once again, he scurried away from Kurt's door, this time using the bag of chips to hide his boner.
Many thanks to everyone who read and commented on this =]