Shut Up and Drive


Kurt Hummel was not (repeat: was not) the type of person who was perfectly fine being ignored. He wasn't as mental as Rachel in his quest for attention, but he thrived better in the limelight.

When Puck came to the conclusion that being a decent boyfriend (which he was… usually) came second to Mario Kart, well, Kurt knew he had to step in and right some wrongs. Because Kurt Hummel? He would not permit being beaten by a video game!

Puck shushed him for the umpteenth time in-between ramming other racers off Rainbow Road and cramming Cool Ranch Doritos into his mouth. Not so easily deterred, Kurt did what he did best: he got creative. After all, one could only demand, bribe and threaten so much until they found themselves one boyfriend less. While Kurt liked to think he had tamed "The Puckzilla" (the only ridiculous nickname Kurt permitted in their bedroom-talk) he knew a lost cause when he saw one.

No. Puck might be good for the occasional coffee run, but he was anything but whipped. And he wasn't monogamous-not one hundred percent, but Kurt found Puck was considerably less whorish when he was well-sexed. And… well, as a fellow teenage boy, Kurt could work that to his advantage.

Kurt pouted his lips in an obvious invitation for almost anything lewd (blown kiss to blowjob). He figured Puck's peripheral vision was decent and he was only proven right by the smirk slowly crawling its way onto the other boy's face. "Whaaat, babe?"

"You're ignoring me Puck." Kurt huffed, playfully slapping one Levi-clad thigh. "You know how I don't like being ignored…"

"Uh huh," Puck murmured, mouth hanging open a bit as he navigated a particularly sharp turn in the current level of the racing tournament. "Waluigi gonna win!" said Puck's character in a horrendously Italian accent.

Kurt didn't bother verbally getting Puck's attention, not when Puck's eyes were all glazed over like that. No, this was where Kurt's… creativity came into play. So to speak. (Kurt would vehemently deny any double-entendres, unless you happened to know of his practically nonexistent gag reflex and multitasking talents. But then you would have to be Puck, and everyone knew Puck could make almost anything sound dirty.)

Instead, Kurt slowly rand his hand up and down Puck's leg, pretending to watch as Puck sped into lap two of his race. With each upstroke his fingers got closer to Puck's inseam, going at a snail's pace until Kurt's thumb was hooked on Puck's hip, his fingers stroking the other boy through his jeans. A grin tugged at his lips at the growing hardness.

Puck hissed out a breath, pausing his game mid-race. "Babe, what're you doing?"

"Nothing," Kurt replied casually, sitting back on the couch. His other hand toyed with his bangs. "Why'd you stop? I was really getting into it."

"Sure you were," Puck said dubiously, but he went back to Mario Kart after a moment.

Kurt had been subtly shifting over on the sofa, so by the time Puck started on the second race in the set Kurt's knee was lightly resting against Puck's. He abruptly pulled his hand off Puck, definitely not missing the groan of disappointment it evoked. He bent his head to hide his devious smirk as he slipped his boots off, carefully setting them aside as he pulled his feet up to lay down.

He sprawled out so one arm wrapped around Puck's waist from behind, the other going back to Puck's front to toy with the copper button on his Levi's. Kurt's eyes never left the television screen, but he hardly paid the game any mind. He was too busy making sure his every exhale caught the bared strip of skin on Puck's side, the tip of his nose brushing against Puck's hip every now and again.

"Kurt, c'mon! You're gonna make me lose," Puck complained, jumping as Kurt nuzzled a particularly ticklish spot.

"I'm not doing anything!" Kurt insisted, barely keeping himself from laughing as Puck veered off the road and fell into the abyss on the game. "It's not my fault you're so easily distracted."

"I'll show you easily distracted," Puck muttered, leaning forward to move out of eleventh place. Was that a challenge? Kurt thought. Oh, it's on.

He somehow managed to pop the button to Puck's jeans open without him noticing. The fly took a while, but Kurt had the zipper pulled all the way down when Puck got to the third lap. He grinned and thrust his hand inside Puck's jeans, doing an internal happy-dance when it turned out Puck was going commando (as usual).

Puck squawked, his hand jerking so his Wii remote went boomeranging forward. On-screen, Waluigi wailed as he zipped off the road. "Fuck-Kurt!"

"What the hell, Puck?" Kurt blinked up at Puck with a raised eyebrow. "Are you a dunderhead? You're not supposed to throw the stupid Wii-mote, you ninny. Here."

He got up and retrieved said remote, making sure he bent over enough for his shirt to ride up. He smirked at Puck's growl.

"There you are," he said, standing in front of Puck and offering him his controller. Kurt was practically shoving his boner in Puck's face with how close he stood which, duh, was kind of the point.

Instead of taking his seat again, Kurt sat on the carpeted floor before Puck, leaning up against Puck's legs. "What're you doing?" Puck asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes down at Kurt.

"Nothing at all," Kurt said. Nothing yet, at least.

"…Right."

Kurt waited until Puck was well into the next race, too engrossed to notice as Kurt turned himself around to face Puck's knees. Eyes watching Puck, Kurt slowly rose on his hackles. His carefulness was unnecessary, though, because that glazed look was settling over Puck's face again. Kurt leered in triumph, looking down at Puck's lap where the wet head of his dick was peeking out of his fly.

Glancing up at Puck, Kurt slowly leaned forward, making sure to avoid brushing against his thighs until his mouth was right… there!

Puck choked as Kurt licked him, almost missing the turn in Coconut Mall. "Fu-" He slapped the 'Start' button hard, not even waiting for it to pause before he chucked the remote off to the side and spread his legs to pull Kurt closer.

"Ah, ah, ah," Kurt smirked. His eyes were sparkling in amusement as he reached for the controller again, hand resting on Puck's knee to keep his balance. "I'll keep going, so long as you race."

"But Kurt…"

"Hey, you're the one who wanted to play your stupid little video game," Kurt said with a smug, shit-eating grin. Puck glared down at him, but Kurt made no move to resume what he'd started. "On your mark, babe."

Puck leered down at him. "Think you can handle my stick shift, do you?"

"Oh, I know I can." Kurt shoved him backward onto the couch. "Now shut up and drive, Puckerman."