CHAPTER 7

We don’t talk about it in the morning. We smile at each other – the smile more intimate somehow (That happens after you’ve had someone come in your mouth, I can’t help but reflect, then chastise myself, because certain parts of my anatomy are stirring to attention already). We eat breakfast in silence, then spend the rainy Saturday together, each busy with our own things. I’m surprised, but there’s nothing awkward between us. It’s as if last night didn’t happen. I play the guitar a little and finally finish the song that’s been eluding me for weeks. Kurt seems to be reorganizing his wardrobe and composing outfits. In the afternoon I find a box in the hallway filled with clothes, khaki cargo pants on top. Kurt notices me looking.

“I’ve been going through my closet. God, I have no idea what I was thinking when I bought all these. I’ll take them to Goodwill on Monday.”

“Great. That’s just an opinion, but I think your old style fits you much better.”

Kurt blushes a little. “I know.”

By the time evening rolls around I’ve almost convinced myself that last night really was just a dream. That is, until Kurt says, conversationally, “I think we should have sex,” and I choke on a bit of apple.

After I come back from the brink of death by asphyxiation and stop coughing my lungs out, I ask weakly, certain I misheard him.

“What did you say?”

“I said, I think we should have sex,” he answers calmly, as if he proposed to go the movies or try a new take-out place. In fact, it’s too calm, which means he probably rehearsed what he’s saying. He does that when he’s nervous. “I thought about it all day and I believe it’s reasonable. Last night was amazing, for me, I mean, but I had an impression you liked it too. We’re obviously attracted to each other, we seem to fit well, we’re both single and we live together, and honestly, sometimes you just need sex, so why go somewhere looking for it if we can just have each other? It’s much safer and we’re friends, so there wouldn’t be any awkwardness.”

To say that I’m surprised would be a serious understatement.

“Kurt, don’t you think it would be awkward because we are friends? Aren’t you afraid it could ruin what we have?”

“Of course not. I’m not talking about a relationship, just sex. If we don’t like it, we’ll stop, no hard feelings. And if we do, we’ll just be friends with added benefits.”

“I’m not sure it’s that easy.”

“Oh come on. It’s sex. It’s not complicated. Unless you’re not attracted to me? Because your pants say otherwise.”

I look down, noticing that my yoga pants are tented in an obvious way, and put a pillow in my lap. I have a bad feeling about this, but it’s hard to think clearly when Kurt is looking at me like that. And pouting.

“Blaaaaaine. Come on. I need sex. And you’re sitting right here, so damn hot. And I’ve wanted you since college. No, wait, forget college, more like high school. And I never had the courage to just tell you. So now I do.”

I groan. God, I’ve wanted him too. I do want him still. There’s no way I can refuse.

“Okay.”

“Yes!” He jumps from the coach and moves toward his room.

“Hey, wait, you want to do it now? I think we need to talk about it first!”

“What’s there to talk about?”

A lot. Everything. But at least…

“How about the technicalities? Like… do you want to top or bottom?”

He looks surprised, as if there was never a question about it.

“I always bottom.”

“Always?”

“Always.” Okay, some couples just have their chosen roles.

“And you never wanted to try the other way?”

He actually stops to consider it. “I guess I never really thought about it. It’s just the way it was. I mean… are you okay with that?”

“Yes. I’m fine with both ways.” For a moment, he looks surprised again. It’s not like I’m saying anything extravagant, is it?

“Great. Now. Sex?”

When I follow him to his bedroom, lit by a single small lamp, there’s already lube and a box of condoms on the bedside table, and Kurt’s quickly unbuttoning his shirt. I stop him.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“Undressing. You know, to have sex? What else do you want me to do?”

“Um, how about this?” I take his hand and pull him to me, stroke his cheek, then kiss him. He inhales sharply and stills for a moment, before diving into the kiss passionately. His lips are full, soft and minty. His tongue slides into my mouth to explore and I shiver. God, I want him. I slide my free hand to the back of his head, rake my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. All these years together and it’s our first kiss. I can’t recall just how many times I’ve thought about doing this – ever since the day we first met. The number would probably go into dozens, if not hundreds. And now here we are.

I want to savor this, each slow step, because this is so worth it. Kurt is so worth it. And it’s not a one-night thing with a stranger in an anonymous hotel room. It’s connecting on a new level with a person I care about and who cares back. Kurt can say what he wants, but I know it will do things to us, change us somehow. I just hope it will be for better and not worse.

I slide my lips down the column of his neck, kissing, sucking. I graze the milky skin with my teeth, careful not to bruise. His shirt is half-undone already, so I slide it off one shoulder to continue my journey, uninterrupted; biting where the neck meets the shoulder. I go back to tongue the inviting dip between clavicles, then down to the exposed nipple, to tease and lick it into a hardened bud. Kurt moans and whimpers above me, his fingers fervently tracing jumbled pathways along the skin of my back. I don’t even remember his hands sliding under my shirt, there are so many stimuli at once, so many things I feel and want and do. My body is on fire under his touch and I can’t wait to find more – more contact, more skin exposed, just more to see and taste and worship.

So I make my way down his chest, button by button, kissing each newly exposed inch of skin until I’m on my knees and there are no buttons left, and I’m rudely interrupted in my explorations by a belt buckle. Still, I can’t tear my eyes away from the newest discovery, the light dusting of soft hair leading in an inviting line from Kurt’s bellybutton down, down… So I map the line with my tongue, travel along the borders of the waistband with wet, hungry kisses, suck on a hipbone just peeking from under the dark denim. Kurt’s responses are crazily vocal, his hand fisted tightly in my hair.

Suddenly I just have to see him, to look at him, all wanton and aroused, so I kiss my way back up and reach to slide his shirt completely off. My hands shake slightly against his shoulders; I pause to catch his eye, pupils blown wide so that there’s just a ring of greenish grey visible.

“Can I?”

“Please.”

There’s a rustle of cotton sliding to the floor and there he stands, glorious in this half-nudity, and I know that I’m staring, but I can’t help it, I’m transfixed. I can’t keep the awe out of my voice.

“God, you’re beautiful…” I trace my fingertips lightly down Kurt’s chest, the planes of his stomach. He gasps and reaches to unbutton my shirt hastily with deft fingers, losing patience halfway down to pull it over my head instead. A heartbeat later we’re chest to chest, touching, kissing, exploring, every point of contact sending sparks along my neural paths. Quick breaths fill the room. I slide my hands down Kurt’s back, along the valley of his spine, to the dimples on the small of his back, and still lower, lower over his jeans, until they stop on his ass.

I groan before pulling him into me, impossibly closer, our lips colliding in a hungry kiss, all tongues and teeth. And there he is, right against me, hot and hard, and we both gasp sharply and rut against each other for a while, seeking the perfect friction, until one of us remembers that we’re not teenagers stealing desperate moments of privacy before parents come home. We have time, we have space, we have a bed and no reason to come in our pants if we can just get rid of them.

What follows is an undignified race to get naked as fast as humanly possible and fall on the bed, back into each other’s embrace. Once there though, there’s no rush anymore, time slows and we kiss sweetly, almost shyly, as if suddenly realizing what we’re doing here, naked together for the first time. Our bodies touch, entangled, hot and wanting and just there. For a second I wonder if this is the moment when one of us decides to call it off, if maybe we should call it off before anything more happens, but then Kurt rolls me on my back and I’m lost to his hot mouth and wandering hands for a long, long while.

When he finally comes back to my lips, pressing his hips against mine, it’s too much. My senses are in overload; I need a bit of distance for a moment if I’m to be able to do what he wants from me. So I roll, keeping Kurt close, and he’s on his back now, whining for the loss of contact as I withdraw and kneel back a feet away.

“Shh. I just want to look at you.” And I do. Because I don’t know, maybe this is the first and last time I have a chance to do this and if it is, I want this sight etched into my brain forever. “Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are? Your face, your body, your skin, your cock, fuck… I get hard just looking at you sometimes, fully clothed. And seeing you like that, naked and perfect, lying here… I want to fuck you so bad right now, feel you tight and hot around me, hear you make those sounds…” He whines deep in his throat, looking dazed, his cock jerking up, beads of moisture gathering at the tip. “But I also want to just sit and look at you. Or touch and kiss every inch of you. Anything really.”

I lean in and lick a hot line up his dick, kiss the tip gently.

“Will you turn for me?”

He does, without question, and I stare at his ass shamelessly. I want to worship it, to be honest. It’s worth it. I stroke it gently, squeeze one perfectly shaped muscle.

“You have the most perfect ass I’ve ever seen.” I spend a moment or two, or five, kissing it, biting a little, only to soothe the sting with little licks. I open his legs wider and trace the tip of my tongue from his balls to the small of his back, earning a shuddering moan. I part the cheeks to grant my mouth access, blow gently before diving down, just as Kurt turns his head to look.

“What are you do… oh fuck, Blaa-ah-ah-aine…” The rest of his words is lost in a symphony of moans, surprisingly low and raw, as he loses it, thrashing his head and bucking his hips wildly under my exploring tongue. Soon, he starts biting the pillow, the growing tension in his muscles indicating he’s getting closer to the edge, and I stop, just my fingers skimming over his entrance lightly, there and back again, there and back. I feel like I’m going to explode if I’m not inside soon. Still, I have to make sure, even as I grab the lube and cover my fingers liberally.

“Do you still want to do this?”

Kurt is looking back at me, panting and sweaty, breathtaking as he lies like that, stretched out and exposed for me.

“Yes. Yesyesyes. And you don’t have to do that. Just take me.”

I don’t understand. “What?”

“You don’t have to prepare me, I’m used to going without.”

My eyes widen. He must be kidding, right? I’ve tried bottoming without preparation, once. Danny and I were experimenting with rough sex that day. There’s no way I’d do that to Kurt. What does he mean, he’s used to it?

“No, Kurt, we’re doing it properly. This is supposed to be about pleasure, not pain. Just let me do it my way.”

He hesitates, but complies. As soon as my finger is against his entrance, the lightest of pressure, I can see him bite his lip and squeeze his eyes shut, and not in a good way. It’s as if he’s bracing himself for something unbearable. I feel my heart ache. What had that bastard been doing to him? He wants this though, now, so I’ll just be so, so gentle…

I keep teasing with my fingertips, just touching, stroking, massaging, until I feel Kurt relax under me. Lying between his parted legs, I slowly slide one finger in while sucking at the soft flesh of his inner thigh. Pause, out, in again. A few more slides and he’s pushing against my finger, whining high and breathless, enjoying it fully. I keep doing just this until he begs for more. I add the second finger, take my time finding that sweet spot inside and then just watch Kurt slowly coming undone while preparing him thoroughly, even more carefully than I usually do. By the time I finish with the third finger, he is thrashing his head left and right, fucking himself on my hand, begging for me to take him, beautifully responsive. I could watch him all night, but I’m so hard it hurts, so I reach for a condom, slowly sliding my fingers out. Kurt whines at the loss.

“Turn over. Let me see you.” 

I put a pillow under his hips, lift his knees up to his chest, then kiss him thoroughly before I even start pushing in. I go slow, mindful of every grimace, every tensing, but he’s so ready and soon I’m fully in and god, it feels amazing.

I’m making love to my best friend. Wait, what? Scratch it, I’m having sex with my best friend. That’s all that is.

Once we start moving and establish the perfect rhythm and angle, there’s just hot tightness around me, wet, sloppy kisses, sweaty bodies and mingling sounds of pleasure. Kurt’s voice goes lower and rougher the closer to the edge he gets and the vibrations of it, the look on this angelic face, so completely wrecked with pleasure, are enough to bring me to the peak right now. But I bite my lip, hold back. Not until I’m sure he is satisfied. He’s tense and panting already, shuddering, just there. I stroke my hand just once over his bobbing cock and whisper, my voice ragged.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like that, god… Come on, come for me, baby.” Baby? Where did that come from? But it doesn’t matter, because right that second Kurt does come, arching his back, his voice doing something amazing, sliding from low growl up, up through the scale, finishing in a broken note so high I’m pretty sure I’ve never heard him sing it. It’s the final push and I pulse with my orgasm, Kurt’s name on my lips like a prayer. The last conscious thought I register is Fuck, I love him and then it’s just blinding pleasure.

Once I’ve gotten myself back together enough to be able to look and think at the same time, I notice that Kurt is crying. Oh no.

“Kurt, oh my god, did I hurt you? Did I do something wrong? Please, talk to me!”

“No, no, this was perfect, you were perfect. It’s just… I never even...” He sobs in earnest now.

Condom disposed of, I hug him tightly, silently, as he cries on my chest. I don’t know what’s wrong, but we can talk in the morning, I know he’s not ready to tell me yet. Now I just hold my best friend, my lover, as his shuddering breath evens out slowly and he falls asleep. I follow shortly after.