by KC Burn
“Fine. Lunch this week?”
“Sure, yeah, call me, and let me know what day is good for you.”
Ian left, and Kurt stood there, wondering if he’d made the right decision. He scoped out the bar, wondering which waitress Ian had spoken of, when a slender blond man caught his eye. His gaze traveled the length of the man, build and profile so similar to Davy that if it hadn’t been for the blond hair, he would have assumed he was looking at Davy. The blond turned and met his gaze. He stared at the man for a few seconds, who raised a brow and licked his lips, sending an unexpected punch of lust to his gut, and blood rushing south. This man had gotten a bigger “rise” out of him in mere seconds than several minutes with Heidi’s generous breasts plastered against him.
Oh fuck.
He buttoned up his coat and pushed through the crowd, out into the bitter, late November cold.
Chapter Twelve
It was too late to ring the doorbell. Aside from the cheery red and green Christmas lights in the front windows, Davy’s house was dark. Kurt didn’t even know why he was sitting here in his car, except the overwhelming need to be near Davy had been too much to tamp down with a couple of beers in him. All those happy couples at Finn’s—he felt so alone. Davy would probably have hated the crowd, but Kurt was a fool for not inviting him. He was a fool for a number of reasons, because no woman had ever made him so complete. And if he wanted to see how well Davy fit into the rest of his life, he needed to man up and let him in. Share, but not push. Because Davy still had healing to do. He wasn’t willing to take that step—to let Davy or anyone—know about his newly discovered sexual appetite. He still didn’t quite trust it. But fully including Davy as a friend? That he could and should do.
Kurt rubbed his chilly fingers together, his breath escaping in a white puff.
This was stupid. He was sitting out here, like he was on a stakeout, but he’d never drank before going on a stakeout. God. He probably looked suspicious as all hell, and he wouldn’t be surprised if a squad car came by, wondering what he was doing. Inspector Nadar would cuss him out for this stunt. Especially since he couldn’t explain this without admitting things he didn’t want to say aloud. Things he wasn’t sure he could bear to admit to himself.
A dark compact car pulled into Davy’s driveway and the engine cut out. A short man dressed all in black stepped out of the driver’s seat.
Before he’d made a conscious decision, Kurt exited his car and cut across the street to intercept. There was no good reason for anyone to be heading up to Davy’s door after he was clearly asleep.
Then, the passenger door opened and Davy stepped out. Kurt halted, like he’d been coated with water and flash-frozen in a shadowy patch of sidewalk. He was only a few feet from Davy’s drive but neither man noticed him.
The chill from his fingers spread throughout his body, although Kurt was mostly sure it wasn’t physical.
He didn’t recognize the man at all. The murmur of male voices reached him as the two stood on the step, and Davy turned to speak after unlocking the door.
Davy smiled, flashing those dimples a split second before the blond cupped Davy’s cheeks and planted his lips atop Davy’s.
Kurt unfroze as anger exploded, hot and molten, in his chest. Snow crunched underfoot as he sprinted across the yard. He dashed up the porch steps and yanked the stranger from Davy. His Davy.
The stranger yelped and fell back against the window with a hollow thunk.
Davy stared, uncomprehending, while Kurt’s chest moved like a bellows, fists clenched at his sides.
“What the fuck is going on?” Kurt’s voice was hardly recognizable.
The stranger recovered quickly. “Who are you?”
“Who the fuck are you? Davy, were you on a fucking date?” Kurt wasn’t sure how to express the anger coursing through him without an assault charge, and even though the asshole was no longer kissing or touching Davy, he was getting more irate.
“What the fuck, Kurt?”
“Hey, man, I didn’t know you had a jealous ex.”
“I don’t.” The words shot out of Davy’s mouth like bullets. Kurt had never seen Davy snarl, and he snarled right back.
“Then who the fuck is this?”
Kurt flicked his attention to the stranger. “None of your fucking business.” Kurt’s glare intensified, and the blond grew alarmed by his sudden escalation of anger.
“Do you want me to call the cops, Davy?”
“No, he is the cops. Just go home, Andrew.”
Andrew. A fresh flood of hatred washed through Kurt for Andrew.
“Are you sure?” Andrew edged around Kurt, skirting him like a wild animal. Kurt should have cared, but he didn’t. He was ready to fling this dick off the porch, head first into the nearest drift.
“Yes. Go home.” Davy shared the sharp tone Kurt hadn’t heard before tonight with Andrew. Good. Andrew walked to his car.
Davy opened the door and stepped through as Andrew drove away.
“Get inside,” Davy ordered. “I’m not yelling where the neighbors can hear.”
Kurt followed him into the living room where Davy shed his coat and threw it over a chair.
“What the hell was that all about?” Davy’s sharp, snippy tone hadn’t abated any. “And take your fucking boots off. You’re tracking snow all over.”
“Are you fucking dating already? How could you?” Kurt flung his boots over into the corner. Somewhere in the deep, dark recesses of Kurt’s mind he thought he’d have a chance to work out what the fuck was going on in his head without worrying about Davy moving on—not needing him anymore.
Davy’s mouth fell open. “I don’t have to fucking explain myself to you, but no, I’m not fucking dating.” The words twisted into a mocking parody of Kurt’s. “Not yet.”
He was supposed to have six more months before Davy started dating. That’s what the grief counselors said, right? A year to grieve? Six more months to decide if he wanted Davy for himself or to get this stupid obsession out of his system.
“Not yet?” Davy’s words should have appeased him, but they didn’t. He was beginning to vibrate with the repressed desire to shake some sense into Davy. Davy’s eyes glittered darkly, reflecting the Christmas lights in the window; he hadn’t bothered to turn on any lights. Which was fine. They didn’t need lights for this.
“So if you’re not dating, why the fuck was he kissing you, then?”
Davy glared at him and kicked his own wet boots at Kurt’s.
“Oh for God’s sake. He’s a friend of Jon’s, we were at a club, and Andrew offered to drive me home. Yes, he made a move. But I have to ask… what the fuck is it to you?”
Kurt stepped closer, looming as much as he could. Sure, Davy was a couple inches taller, but Kurt was wider and had a lot of experience looking intimidating. Davy squared his shoulders, narrowed his eyes, and stood firm, not even dropping his gaze.
“I don’t like him.”
“So the fuck what? You don’t have to like people I’m dating. You don’t have to like people I’m fucking.”
“The people you’re fucking?” The words stabbed him clean through the belly. He couldn’t catch his breath from the pain.
Davy glared. “Not yet. Idiot.”
The pain in his middle dissolved instantly. Kurt sucked in a deep breath, ready to launch another attack, when Davy’s clean lemongrass scent, combined with the warm, musky scent of sweat tickled his nose. His cock sprang to immediate and almost painful life. Arguing was the last thing he wanted to do with Davy.
Grabbing Davy’s narrow shoulders, he pulled him close and jammed his lips on a man’s for the first time.
Davy stood stiff for a moment while Kurt savored the unexpected softness of Davy’s lips. He slid his hands up to Davy’s cheeks and the abrasion of stubble against his palms drew a moan from deep within his chest. He licked at the seam of Davy’s mouth, desperate for admission. For a heart-stopping minute, he thought Davy would deny him, but Davy
’s mouth opened at the same time as Davy slid his arms around Kurt’s waist.
Oh, God. The taste of Davy. The heat of Davy’s mouth. This was his, not fucking Andrew’s. He backed Davy toward the couch and used his body mass to press Davy down in an aggressive way he’d never used—or cared to use—with a woman.
One final nudge and he was atop Davy, groin to groin, mouth to mouth. Another moan welled into their mouths; Kurt thought it might have been him. The novelty of a full erection pressed against his, hips undulating against his, was unbelievably arousing. He’d never been as physically close to a woman; how could he? The firm planes of his body fit Davy’s like he was made for them. The kiss softened as his attention wavered between all the warring, unaccustomed sensations and the pulsing desperation in his dick for ever more pressure, skin, friction.
Davy clutched at him, pushed at him, fought with him, and jammed his tongue into Kurt’s mouth like they were battling, not kissing. Grappling with someone whose strength approached his own was fascinating and held more appeal than he imagined.
Ripping his mouth away, Davy panted. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Kissing you.” Or perhaps devouring.
“What makes it okay for you to kiss me and not Andrew?” The words weren’t a simple question, but a sneering mockery.
Kurt’s anger returned full force and his hands moved to Davy’s hair, yanking his mouth back within easy reach. “You’re mine,” he snarled before shoving his tongue back in Davy’s mouth.
Davy wasn’t ready to surrender; he pulled away and bit Kurt’s lip. Kurt reared back at the sting, although it wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
“Bullshit.” Davy glared at him, but thrust his hips forcefully upwards, the drag of two pairs of jeans between two hard cocks making Kurt gasp.
Suddenly, the room tilted as Davy took advantage of his momentary distraction. Kurt ended up on the floor, breathless, the plush carpet cushioning his fall. Davy leaned over, dark hair rumpled, lips puffy, face flushed. Before tonight, Kurt may have never had a lustful look directed at him from a man—that he knew of—but there was no mistaking the emotion lighting up Davy’s eyes. And there wasn’t a hint of the tenderness he’d seen in women’s eyes.
Davy pounced, flicking Kurt’s fly open and wrenching down his jeans. Kurt’s cock sprang out, eager to play. Davy wasted no time engulfing him in the hot, wet fire of a mouth that kissed so well. Kurt cried out, arching his hips up, trying to shove himself down Davy’s accommodating throat.
Davy sucked and licked and nibbled—leaving Kurt helpless under the fierce sensual onslaught. He’d never had anyone suck his dick with such enthusiasm and skill. Dear God.
His dick popped free from Davy’s mouth, and he stared down. Why had Davy stopped?
Smiling demonically, Davy slithered up his body and yanked his sweater up his chest and over his head, tongue tracing a slick path along the revealed skin. Kurt writhed, trying to untangle his arms from the sweater. His desperation was increased by a hand on his dick and lips on his nipple.
All contact stopped as Davy lifted his head and looked straight into his eyes. His expression was serious, and Kurt knew Davy was still angry, as well as turned on. “No. You want more? You’ll stay like that.”
Oh God. He shouldn’t like this as much as he did. And he’d do anything to keep Davy touching him. He stilled as much as he could, but he couldn’t prevent his hips pumping, seeking through empty air for Davy’s hand.
He stared into Davy’s eyes. He couldn’t quite bring himself to, well, beg. But Davy must have seen the plea in his eyes. Not entirely happy, Davy smirked, those dimples looking diabolical—and delicious. Within seconds, they were both naked, except for the fabric keeping Kurt from touching Davy.
Naked. With another man. He’d never been so close to another man’s erection before, and the enormity of his situation yawned like an abyss at his feet, waiting for him to jump. His cock wasn’t having any second thoughts, but his breath came faster—a little too fast—for simple arousal. Despite that, he couldn’t take his eyes off Davy. Or his cock. It was long, longer than his own, but much more slender, just like Davy. The ruddy contrast was significant against the pale skin of belly and thigh, and the small dark patch of pubic hair framed it, drawing the eye.
Moisture pearled at the tip, and even as his own cock jerked in sympathetic response, his inhalations were way too fast and his vision started to blacken at the edges. Until Davy’s mouth dropped back over his dick, sucking with an almost punishing strength, and everything was right with the world again. Davy pulled back, lavishing the tip with swirling tongue action like no one had ever done. One arm fumbled in the small end table beside the couch.
Davy shifted between Kurt’s legs, and he spread like it wasn’t his first time having a man kneel between his thighs, loving the sinful and amazing things Davy’s mouth did to his cock. A click sounded above their harsh breathing, but Kurt didn’t know what it was until a cool, slick finger stabbed at his anus. Lube. If he hadn’t already tried fingering himself, and liked it, he would have clenched. Maybe he should have anyway, but he was too far gone, and it was a million times better having Davy take over. His thighs spread further, and a groan ripped from his throat.
Growling around his mouthful, the vibration rippled into Kurt’s balls. Davy slid the finger back and forth, and Kurt rocked his hips in the same rhythm, the only thing he could do to fight for his orgasm.
But Davy wasn’t ready for him to come, and the magical suction ceased as Davy pushed another finger into him. Kurt gasped at the unexpected burn. It wasn’t bad, exactly, but it backed him away from his impending orgasm. He couldn’t keep his hips still, though.
“That’s it, just like that,” Davy murmured.
As he added another finger, Kurt yelped and froze, the burn fiery and more intense. Why was Davy doing this? Kurt opened his mouth to tell him to stop, when Davy dropped his mouth back over the head of dick and at the same time, stroked his fingers over something inside.
“Oh God,” was what actually escaped Kurt’s lips. Seconds later, it was, “more, please more.”
Davy lifted his head, lips shiny in the red and green light, fingers still buried in Kurt’s ass. He bared his teeth, and pulled his fingers out.
Empty. So empty. He moaned and glared at Davy. “That’s not more.”
“Complaints?” Davy leaned over him in a flash, mouth cutting off his words. This time Davy tasted saltier and Kurt realized with a jolt that it was the flavor of himself on Davy’s lips.
Then his request for more was filled even as Davy kissed him. Davy’s cock pressed at his entrance, the head popping easily into his stretched opening, and Kurt’s arms twisted above his head, panic and lust riding him, exclamations of his fear and distress and—yes, his ecstasy—denied release by Davy’s tongue. He wanted to yell, to scream, to moan, but he couldn’t seem to do anything but accept Davy’s unrelenting entry into his body.
Fully seated, Davy leaned back, his cock filling Kurt but not thrusting. He looked like an avenging angel, and he saw the wildness in Davy’s eyes, saw the need for movement.
Kurt panted, trying to assimilate the sensations and emotions bombarding him. Hard muscle, sharp hip bones, and springy hair pressed unfamiliarly between his thighs. The soft weight of balls against his ass tickled a bit. He was more vulnerable than he had ever been during sex, but when he clenched around the dick inside him, making them both groan, it felt so good, so unbelievably right.
Davy pulled his dick almost all the way out before gliding back in. Kurt’s cock dripped precome. “More,” he whispered again.
A strangled whine left his throat as Davy picked up the pace, the slap of flesh on flesh almost as exciting as the hardness driving again and again into his body, rubbing, teasing his prostate. Davy’s cock pushed him higher and closer, slamming into him in a way he’d never imagined, but never wanted to stop.
“Please, oh, please.” He was so close, begging seemed the fa
stest and best way to get what he wanted. And he wanted to come. He needed it. His balls were going to fucking explode from the pleasure.
Davy grabbed his dick and jacked it in the same frantic rhythm with which he was fucking. Kurt sucked in a breath, grunted, and spilled, his cock spraying come all over his belly and Davy’s hand. Davy’s face twisted up, and he continued to thrust through Kurt’s almost vicious convulsions.
Then, he pressed his dick as far inside Kurt as he could.
“Oh, fuck.” The words were drawn out into a moan as Davy pulsed inside, warm wetness filling Kurt as Davy shuddered above him, eyes squeezed shut.
Davy collapsed on him, panting. Kurt gulped in deep breaths, enjoying the afterglow. He’d never had sex like that, never that fantastic, and he deliberately ignored the implications lurking in his mind. There’d be time to worry about it later, when he wasn’t completely fucked out. His hands pulled easily from his sweater, now that lust was no longer fogging his brain, and he was able to savor the slip of Davy’s smooth skin under his palms. He stroked Davy’s sweat-slicked spine, remembering a day several months ago when those bumps were more prominent and scary, when Kurt had been so afraid for Davy’s life and sanity. Now, those same ridges were less prominent and fucking sexy.
