Turning Points
I'm not sure about this one, guys. I think I went a bit too far with the fluff, but I'll let you be the judge of that. :P Written in response to a "safe word" prompt over at the Fic Meme, though I don't think I enunciated upon the trust between the boys enough. Ah well.
Also, I couldn't resist the nod to Friends; I had a mini-marathon yesterday morning at my momma's house, and it's like I'm addicted all over again!
Enjoy!
As a young adult, you're practically expected to experiment, to take your hypotheses and test them out in the privacy of your bedroom, sometimes brushing up on your Google-fu and subsequently using your ninja-fast History-erasing skills as well. (He'd barely gotten away with passing off his "figging" search as a typo while looking up Principal Figgins. His dad had been too disturbed by the Wikipedia page to ask why Kurt was looking up his principal, thank God.)
Of course, you won't like everything you imagined you would. After all, giving some serious head might be a lovely concept until you've got spit running down your chin and a cock bumping against the back of your throat. And just because you like something such as, say, handcuffing on its own, it definitely does not mean you like having your arms bound behind you while your sort-of boyfriend is mouth-fucking you like a cheap plastic blowup doll.
When Puck showed him his beloved deep-throating porno stash, his deranged, horny teenage boy version of Kurt's hope chest, Kurt had thought it was pretty hot. It wasn't the idea of shoving his dick into someone's mouth that turned him on, but receiving that… it made his mouth water, imagining himself choking on Puck's dick, swallowing Puck's come as best as he could with a dick crammed in his mouth.
But now, with itchy tears drying on his cheeks from having his gag reflex stimulated so much and thick, gloppy spit all over his mouth, the roots of his hair smarting from how hard Puck tugged… if anything, he felt self-conscious. He felt a bit nauseous too, but that could've just been the trepidation of what he might see if Puck were to hand him a mirror.
When Kurt struggled with his bindings, the knowledge of being trapped and at Puck's mercy wasn't as arousing as it was claustrophobic. Jolts of panic and aggravation made him try to shout around Puck's cock. He dug his nails into his own clammy palms and clenched his eyes shut around another gag.
Puck used his hips to ease his dick out of Kurt's mouth, moaning muffled curses through gritted teeth. Kurt opened his eyes, gasping for air as he watched Puck's spit-slick cock twitch in front of his face. He breathlessly jerked his head to the side when Puck canted his lower body forward, wincing as he felt precome and spit paint the bridge of his nose.
"Fuck, baby-"
"Finn." (What? As one of the most nonsexual things Kurt would never utter in the heat of the moment, his stepbrother's name was their safe word of the day.)
Kurt clenched his eyes shut in shame as Puck froze mid-sentence, mid-thrust, mid-everything. He was tempted to take it back, because even if he wasn't all that into it, Puck was having the time of his life. Puck suffered through Fashion Week for Kurt, couldn't Kurt do this for Puck?
He bit his lip in the darkness behind his eyelids. He focused on Puck's hands as they quickly untied the shreds of his cheap Hanes t-shirt from Kurt's wrists, freeing him within seconds. Kurt only opened his eyes when he felt himself falling.
He collapsed against Puck's chest with an oomph! of surprise, his hands scrabbling in a feeble attempt to keep from crushing the other boy. Puck grunted as Kurt landed on top of him, but if anything, he pulled Kurt closer.
He balled his hands into fists, brushing against Puck's sides. "I'm so sorry, I-"
"Why are you apologizing? Don't apologize," Puck said, surprise clear in his tone. Kurt still couldn't help but bury his face into Puck's neck, moaning in embarrassment. "Look, Kurt-it's no one's fault. How were either of us supposed to know if you'd like it?" Puck said reasonably, stroking at the nape of Kurt's neck. "It's fine, promise."
"But…" Kurt coughed as he let his hand trail against Puck's erection… Only to be slapped away?
"I don't hate you," Puck quickly corrected at Kurt's wide-eyed look of hurt betrayal. "I'm not offended by you, and I don't not want you to touch my dick, okay?"
"Then why won't you…"
"Look, don't tell anyone, but… I'm not actually a sex shark." Puck said, barely restraining the urge to smile as he pulled Kurt's hands up to eye level. "I won't actually die if I don't rub one out," he murmured against Kurt's knuckles. "I'll be fine."
Kurt was still eyeing Puck like he was spewing Shakespeare, but he relented, offering the other boy a reassuring smile as a tongue laved at the crescent-shaped marks on one of his hands. "Maybe we can try it again… minus the ties?"
"Whatever you want," Puck said gently, letting his hands fall around Kurt's waist as his body finally went lax in Puck's grip. "I'm sorry if you felt kinda forced into all this. Or if I scared you."
Kurt snapped his head up with an indignant snort, and he gave Puck his best diva-glare. "Psh. Like you could force me into anything, Puckerman."
Puck smirked at Kurt and ruffled his hair, much to the other boy's displeasure. "That's what makes you so damn interesting."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "I don't know if I should take that as a compliment or not," he mused aloud, grimacing slightly. "But since I'm in a forgiving mood right now, I figure I could let it go. Even if it makes me sound like an experiment to be poked and prodded at under a microscope."
"But Kurt," Puck grinned lecherously, "I poke and prod you all the time."
Kurt laughed. "How do you manage to turn everything into dirty euphemisms?"
"It's a gift," Puck said seriously. "There's always room for jell-o."
"Never. Again," Kurt groaned, whacking his head against Puck's chest as the boy chuckled. "I am never letting you borrow my Friends DVD collection for the weekend anymore."
"But you were out of town and I was bored!"
"Well, what did you do when you were bored, you know, before me?" Kurt retorted, smirking at Puck as he gently tugged at the boy's nipple ring with his teeth. He giggled when he got a flick in the nose from a grumbling Puck. "I'm sorry, what was that? I can't hear you."
"I hooked up," he muttered uncomfortably.
"And you don't do that anymore?" Kurt snickered when Puck remained silent. "Aww," he cooed, "How cute! You're trying the Monogamous Pants on for size!"
"STFU, fuckwad." Puck grinned bashfully, flipping them over with practiced ease. "Besides, why would I want to do anything with anyone else when your sexts are like, fucktons hotter than Santana's?"
"And who says grammar is overrated?"
Puck shot him his best fuck-face, complete with cocky (pun possibly intended) grin and smoldering eyes. "It's all about the verbage, babe."
"There's no such thing as 'verbage', pookie."
"Oh, come on!"
Kurt shot him an unimpressed look. "You know I don't like it when you call me babe."
Puck sat up and gestured his annoyance with both hands. "And I still don't get why!"
"Because you always called Quinn that," Kurt said with a tired, broken-record tone of voice. "As well as Santana and Mercedes and all your other chickadees, and-"
"'And I don't like being put in the same category as Mercedes and those bitches.'" Puck finished for Kurt, verbatim. He looked down at Kurt with a slight grin. "I know. But you don't exactly give me many other options, do you?"
"I refuse to be called hun." Kurt looked like he tasted something sour. "It's too old-couple domestic for my tastes. Too unoriginal."
"Well, I suck at French. Plus, calling you a cabbage seems kinda weird to me."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Mon petit chou is a term of endearment. I think it's sweet."
"Well, at least when I said it to you in the hall one day no one really noticed." Puck grinned. "Finn thought I was sneezing and actually said 'God bless you.' Who does that?"
"Decent people," Kurt offered innocently. He grinned up at Puck when the boy looked pissed. "Oh, don't worry. Finn's my brother now, I don't want him to bang me until my lights go out."
"You better not," Puck warned, but a smile was creeping its way back onto his face. He rolled off of Kurt, cuddling into the boy's side with a sigh. "Dude, when did we get so disgusting?"
Kurt tilted his head to look at him, frowning. "Disgusting?"
"Sappy," Puck elaborated. "When did we get so sappy?"
"We're not as bad as Finn and Rachel," Kurt argued.
"Probably only because we're not public." Puck reasoned, biting his lips at Kurt's stormy expression. "Kurt-"
"I don't care," Kurt said firmly. "No complications, remember? No strings attached. That's what we promised each other." But that was before I realized how sweet you could be, Kurt thought. He sighed when Puck slipped his hand into his.
"Something's changed, and you know it," Puck accused, lacing their fingers together. He had that determined, stubborn, 'I'm not moving' look on his face. "I'd do it if you wanted me to."
"I want you to want to," Kurt tossed back, closing his eyes. He knew what Puck would say before he said it.
"It's just… my mom."
"Then I can wait." Kurt murmured, squeezing Puck's hand once in reassurance.
"But for how long?" Puck asked. Kurt glanced at him in surprise. "Dude, I'm a bit of a moron sometimes, but I'm not a fucking doofus. I see that Sam-kid eyeing you up in glee, 's only a matter of time before he asks you out."
"Why would I want Sam?" Kurt asked, bemused.
"You'd be going out on an actual date," Puck said with a fierce scowl. He glared up at the ceiling. "He'd buy you something and hold your hand, and tell everyone else to fuck off. You haveto want that."
Kurt blinked. "Puck, you do all of those things for me when we go to the mall."
"I don't hold your hand," He snapped, but the anger wasn't directed at Kurt. He hissed a breath out of his nose. "I tell those jerks to leave my friend alone, not my boyfriend."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "I'll have you know your severe lack of confidence is horribly unarousing." He tugged their hands up onto his bare chest, staring at their fingers for a moment before singing, "You got that something, I think you'll understand." He glanced up at Puck through his lashes, no doubt grinning like a lunatic. "I want to hold yourhand."
Puck scoffed. "Such a cornball," he remarked, but he was smiling at Kurt fondly now. "You're kind of hard to not like, you know?"
Kurt leaned over to meet Puck's lips halfway, squeezing their hands tighter. "You're not too bad yourself, hun." He wrinkled his nose a second later. "Ugh. For the record, I did not just call you that."
"Whatever you say, mon petit chou," Puck crooned with a shit-eating grin.
Kurt smiled back. "Bless you."