Icarus
Pairing: Kurt/Elliot
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: s5e09 - Frenemies
Summary: Elliot is crushing on Kurt and after witnessing the dancing in the guitar shop, he takes a moment for himself to indulge in a little fantasy. Based on this prompt.
A/N - This is a short little thing and I wanted to keep Elliot closer to the asexual end of the spectrum without going there completely.
***
Elliot leans back and closes his eyes, his hands busy stroking his shaft and pulling at his balls. It’s not that he wants to get in between Kurt and Blaine - okay, that’s an image he can work with actually, being sandwiched between their bodies - it’s just that Kurt does something to him. His bandmate makes him feel affectionate and tingly in a way that he often doesn’t.
He wasn’t lying to Kurt earlier when he mentioned that other gay guys he’s met were looking for hook-ups. They were, and occasionally he indulged but it’s a rarity. Elliot doesn’t feel the need to get sexually intimate with others very much. In fact, he doesn’t spend much time doing this either but today there are memories of Kurt licking frosting from his own fingers while watching him intently are ricocheting around his brain and suddenly his skin feels too tight and he’s so glad that he has his own space, his tiny apartment, to indulge his body like this.
Elliot arches up from his sofa, balls tightening as his hand speeds over his cock. His baggy black jeans sag around his knees and he drags his faded t-shirt up to expose his tanned stomach. Stains are the last thing he wants to deal with.
Kurt’s there, in his head, flicking him that coquettish look as he strokes his hands up and down his thighs. Those strong thighs. Fu-ck. Who knew that Kurt could spin on a pole? Pants snug around his ass, shirt hanging out, looking as free as Elliot’s ever seen him. It does something to Elliot, makes his gut flip thinking about what Kurt would be like in bed, what he would look like naked. Yes, more of that. Skin, pale skin stretched over his broad chest, muscles shifting, bunching as he took Elliot in, letting his body jolt and twist with pleasure as Elliot fucked him.
“Ohhh,” he sighs as his ass cheeks clench at the thought of that, being inside Kurt. He doesn’t often feel the need to take, to want, to fuck, to loom over someone and be inside them. It feels foreign for a moment, like trying on an ill-fitting suit but then the wrinkles smooth out and he twists one way and then another and it’s perfect.
Kurt stretches out in Elliot’s mind, laid out just for him, vulnerable but trusting, waiting for him to press back in, thrusting and grunting until they’re flushed and sweaty with it. Elliot’s mouth opens and closes as he thinks about dragging his lips over his friend’s skin, kissing his neck, sucking in bruises, marking him in places that only he’d know about.
Elliot’s hand slows, squeezing his length, breathing hard as his thoughts become phantom whispers of sensation over his skin, feeling Kurt beneath him, touching him, licking, kissing, fucking in again. His hand starts to pump again as he gets lost in the fantasy. Kurt moans for him.
“Shit!” Pearly dribbles of come splatter over Elliot’s tensing abs and he takes a shuddering breath as he continues to thrust through his fingers until the warm pool of pleasure inside him dissipates.
His eyes are still shut as he relaxes into the couch but he knows he has to move. The band, and Kurt, is counting on him to show up to practice, and, now that he has this out of his system, Elliot feels like he’ll be able to focus on more than just Kurt’s sexy hip thrust and shimmy combo. At least he hopes so.
Fin
(there may be a follow up but I'm unsure)
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: s5e09 - Frenemies
Summary: Elliot is crushing on Kurt and after witnessing the dancing in the guitar shop, he takes a moment for himself to indulge in a little fantasy. Based on this prompt.
A/N - This is a short little thing and I wanted to keep Elliot closer to the asexual end of the spectrum without going there completely.
***
Elliot leans back and closes his eyes, his hands busy stroking his shaft and pulling at his balls. It’s not that he wants to get in between Kurt and Blaine - okay, that’s an image he can work with actually, being sandwiched between their bodies - it’s just that Kurt does something to him. His bandmate makes him feel affectionate and tingly in a way that he often doesn’t.
He wasn’t lying to Kurt earlier when he mentioned that other gay guys he’s met were looking for hook-ups. They were, and occasionally he indulged but it’s a rarity. Elliot doesn’t feel the need to get sexually intimate with others very much. In fact, he doesn’t spend much time doing this either but today there are memories of Kurt licking frosting from his own fingers while watching him intently are ricocheting around his brain and suddenly his skin feels too tight and he’s so glad that he has his own space, his tiny apartment, to indulge his body like this.
Elliot arches up from his sofa, balls tightening as his hand speeds over his cock. His baggy black jeans sag around his knees and he drags his faded t-shirt up to expose his tanned stomach. Stains are the last thing he wants to deal with.
Kurt’s there, in his head, flicking him that coquettish look as he strokes his hands up and down his thighs. Those strong thighs. Fu-ck. Who knew that Kurt could spin on a pole? Pants snug around his ass, shirt hanging out, looking as free as Elliot’s ever seen him. It does something to Elliot, makes his gut flip thinking about what Kurt would be like in bed, what he would look like naked. Yes, more of that. Skin, pale skin stretched over his broad chest, muscles shifting, bunching as he took Elliot in, letting his body jolt and twist with pleasure as Elliot fucked him.
“Ohhh,” he sighs as his ass cheeks clench at the thought of that, being inside Kurt. He doesn’t often feel the need to take, to want, to fuck, to loom over someone and be inside them. It feels foreign for a moment, like trying on an ill-fitting suit but then the wrinkles smooth out and he twists one way and then another and it’s perfect.
Kurt stretches out in Elliot’s mind, laid out just for him, vulnerable but trusting, waiting for him to press back in, thrusting and grunting until they’re flushed and sweaty with it. Elliot’s mouth opens and closes as he thinks about dragging his lips over his friend’s skin, kissing his neck, sucking in bruises, marking him in places that only he’d know about.
Elliot’s hand slows, squeezing his length, breathing hard as his thoughts become phantom whispers of sensation over his skin, feeling Kurt beneath him, touching him, licking, kissing, fucking in again. His hand starts to pump again as he gets lost in the fantasy. Kurt moans for him.
“Shit!” Pearly dribbles of come splatter over Elliot’s tensing abs and he takes a shuddering breath as he continues to thrust through his fingers until the warm pool of pleasure inside him dissipates.
His eyes are still shut as he relaxes into the couch but he knows he has to move. The band, and Kurt, is counting on him to show up to practice, and, now that he has this out of his system, Elliot feels like he’ll be able to focus on more than just Kurt’s sexy hip thrust and shimmy combo. At least he hopes so.
Fin
(there may be a follow up but I'm unsure)