Jones House - Thanksgiving 2009

Kurt walked up to Mercedes’ door, bouquet of fall flowers in hand for Mrs. Jones. 

"Kurt, honey, so good of you to come. Oh, thank you for the flowers. How is your dad?" Miss Jo asked.

"I made him some chicken soup. He is still sick, but no more fever. He just wants to sleep it off. This flu has really been making the rounds. He said to tell you thanks for inviting us to dinner. I appreciate it, too."

Jo hugged Kurt. Even after all these years she still thought he could make the angels cry. Just look at that pale complexion, the long eyelashes, the rosy cheeks and the blue-green eyes. She thought of this boy as something like her own child. He had grown up to be so much like his mom. Elizabeth would be so proud of him. Thinking of her friend brought a tear to Jo's eye, so she turned her face, pretending to be absorbed in the snow falling in the driveway.

"Miss Jo?"

"Mercedes is in the kitchen. I know she could use some help setting the table." Jo brushed the thought of Elizabeth away. She knew Kurt would know why she was getting weepy and didn't want to see the sadness in his eyes.

"Okay. I can bake the rolls..." and he was off down the hallway, calling to Mercedes to get him an apron.

Thanksgiving supper at the Jones’ house had been a tradition for so many years. Before Kurt’s mom died, they had traded houses every year, one year at the Jones’ the next at the Hummels. But afterwards, Josephine Jones had invited Burt and Kurt every single year. It was nice to have a tradition like that to look forward to. And it meant so much to Kurt to have Miss Jo, who had known his mother since they were girls themselves, as a kind of connection he craved.

After dinner, Mercedes and Kurt were sitting on her bed, both in their pajamas, watching Sound of Music. This was a part of the tradition, too. The television station aired Sound Of Music on Thanksgiving every year, and although Kurt owned the movie on BlueRay, they usually watched it on tv, snuggled together in one of their bedrooms. The rest of the families didn’t appreciate it much anymore, so it was sort of a private ritual between Kurt and Mercedes.

"Did your parents really name you after Kurt Von Trapp?" Mercedes asked, which was also part of the yearly ritual. She knew just how to push Kurt’s buttons.

"Mercy!! We've been through this. NO, she did not." Kurt blushed. She never tired of teasing him about his name. And don’t get her started on his middle name…..

"Hah....yes, they did. My mom told me. She was there the day you were born and your mom named you after Kurt Von Trapp." Sometimes it was uncomfortable having a friend that had known you for so long. Mercedes knew everything about him. Well, almost everything.

To hide the blush that was rapidly spreading its way up his face, Kurt dived under the covers, fingers finding the ticklish places he knew so well.

"Yikes!! Kuuuuurrt! Stop!!" she shrieked.

"Never. You’ll have to cry 'uncle', Mercy, or I’ll never stop," He smirked. But, actually that wasn’t  true. He remembered the summer two years ago during a visit to her family’s lake house. Kurt had tickled her to the point she peed herself. It was embarrassing for both of them and he had pushed her in the lake to cover the tell-tale wet spot before anyone had seen. They had both gotten in trouble for messing around near the water, and Kurt knew she was grateful for his instant reaction to save her further embarrassment, but she was still very irritated that he had gone so far as to cause it. Even though they were friends, this wasn’t something they ever mentioned again, and Kurt was always careful not to tickle too much.

"Never!" he squealed and his fingers began to wriggle again, digging into the soft skin of her sides, Mercedes breathing so hard, trying to stop giggling. She would never admit she loved being tickled by her best friend.

Mercedes and Kurt shared everything and they frequently had long heartfelt talks. One evening last summer, Kurt had asked her to meet him in the old tree house in his backyard. They hadn't been in the tree house since junior high and it set a nostalgic mood when Kurt asked her to meet him there, and she immediately got that this was a place far from the eavesdropping parents and siblings.

Kurt looked so serious, it was starting to scare Mercedes. It was a huge  blow to her when he first told her he was gay. He was sitting cuddled against his best friend, his eyes turned a liquid shade of blue in his misery. He ducked his head as though to ward off a blow, which hurt her even more.

Mercedes strong arms went gently around Kurt’s shoulders and she held him while he cried his heart out, lamenting how he didn’t understand why he liked boys instead of girls. Wondering what went wrong inside him that this was the way he was, wanting desperately to know if his Mercy still loved him. Mercedes just rubbed his back, waiting for him to cry it all out before speaking. She was devastated - Kurt was HERS, and she had always pictured them getting married one day. But bless her heart, she was not a selfish girl, and she knew his heartbreak would be so much worse if he knew how much this news affected her, so she put on a brave face and became what he needed just then -a sympathetic friend, a port in the storm of his crisis.

"Kurt?"

He sniffed and pulled his face from her comforting shoulder. At first the thought that she would be repulsed or angry hadn't entered his mind. This was his Mercy, his best friend. Who else would he go to? But then the thought did cross his mind. What if she would stop loving him, would turn him away because he was gay? He closed his eyes so tight, not brave enough to look into her eyes and see. He covered his head with his arms, rocking back and forth on the splintered wooden floor of the tree house.

"Kurt? Oh, baby, what can I do? Look at me. There is nothing wrong with you. It's just the way you are, no shame. You're still the same wonderful kid I've known all my life. It is going to be okay. I'm here. I'll always be here." Mercedes blinked back the tears that were forming in her eyes.

At her comforting words, he opened his eyes. There were her beautiful golden toffee eyes, a tear rolling down her cheek. He didn't want her to be sad, too, so he playfully leaned over, catching it on his tongue.

"Do I taste like chocolate?" she asked.

Kurt froze. How could she remember that? It was so many years ago, and they had never mentioned it. He was so embarrassed.

He looked up at her, and the laugh in her voice, the smile on her lips made him warm to the very middle of his stomach. He felt the laugh coming up his body and let it out. 

"Oh, Mercy! How could you remember that?" And his arms flew back around her, hugging her close to his body, which was no longer shaking with sobs.

Mercedes smiled. If having Kurt as her best friend no longer meant she could dream about them getting married, at least she could still make him laugh and he would put his arms around her. It would be enough.

He continued to tickle her, she continued to struggle and gasp for breath. She knew it would do no good to tickle back - Kurt was impervious to tickling. She had years of experience to know that. So she decided on the next weapon in her arsenal. She leaned over to his face and planted a kiss right on his beautiful pink lips.

The tickling stopped. The laughing easy mood of the evening stopped. Kurt looked at her as though she had slapped him. His gasp sounded stricken, as though she had betrayed a confidence. And she was instantly sorry.

"Oh......" she gasped and turned in the bed, knocking the laptop on the floor, the lamp off the bedside table, pulling the covers over her head. She burst into tears, believing she had gone too far over the line - instantly wishing she could take back the last two minutes.

"Ahh......Mercedes?" Kurt said, barely loud enough for her to hear.

All she could do was squeak out a pip. There was no voice there to answer him. She was so terrified she could hardly take a breath, much less talk.

"Mercedes? What.....???"

He sat very still. She cowered under the shelter of the blankets, so ashamed of herself. What was she thinking? Her brain was busy, thinking of some sort of silly excuse to make it sound like humor.

"Come out here and talk to me..." his voice sounded so small, like when he was only eight and he would come to her for comfort when memories of his mother crippled him. She had always been there. Even at that tender young age, she had the insight to know he didn't want to talk, just to be held.

"Kurt.....I'm so sorry. So sorry. I didn't think - you were tickling me and I panicked. Oh, what kind of friend am I?" she whispered from under the covers.

His hand came under the blanket and found hers, pulling her up. The room was completely dark...the lamp broken, the laptop closed on the floor. She felt Kurt shaking, but didn't want to touch him after what she had done. The grip on her hand increased, coming close to hurting her. But she couldn't say anything. She felt she deserved it after what she had done. It was such a small, impulsive thing. Kurt gave her a peck on the cheek all the time. She did the same thing. But this was somehow different.

"Oh, Kurt. You cannot imagine how sorry.." and his hand came up and his fingers touched her mouth, stopping her apology. Mercedes was devastated. How could she have done this terrible thing?

His arms came around her and she felt his face on her shoulder, tears spilling onto her nightgown. She slowly put her arms around him, holding him as he cried. They stayed that way for a long time, her nightgown and his pajamas absorbing the hot tears.

Kurt sighed. Mercedes pulled away.

"Are you okay?" she whispered.

"I....I......oh, Mercy. What happened?" He still sounded like that little lost child.

"Well, you were tickling me and I didn't want to wet the bed...." she tried for a bit of humor. That sometimes worked when he was upset.

"No...no. That's not what I mean." It may have been dark, but she could almost see those blue-green eyes loose the green and stare at her in deep blue intensity that he had when she had really stirred something up in him. She cringed inside.

"I guess I don't know what you're asking, Kurt." Now she was trying for off-handed bravado….but becoming really confused. Did she do something else? Brush against a private body part? Oh....that was even worse....

"Ah. You remember last summer when we were in the tree house? And I told you my secret? About liking boys?" At least he sounded less intense. That was something.

"Yes, Kurt. That's why I'm so sorry...." she couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Well...I know I'm gay.  I like boys. I don't enjoy looking at naked pictures of women, my dreams are about boys."

"I know."

"We've been having sleep-overs since we were little! I never thought of you like.....like that." He was setting ground rules in his  ‘I’m in charge here’ voice.

Well, I've thought about you! But she didn't say that out loud. This wasn't the time. Hell, there probably would never be a time…

"I know." Mercedes resigned herself to what she knew was inevitable. Now she just wanted to get it over with and go to sleep.

"But.....when you just..ah...kissed me....I....ah....." his voice trailed away.

"You what?" she said in a tiny voice, then strained to hear his answer.

"I liked it. It was like electricity. I never expected that."

"Oh."

The silence in the dark room ticked by.

"Mercedes?"

"Yes, Kurt."

"Can I kiss you?"

"Oh, Kurt. I don't think that's a good idea," she sighed.

"But.....I just want to see." He started to shake again.

This was so against her better judgment. But she wanted to see, too. She was so torn in the two directions. What to do? 

"Okay..." she murmured in the dark.

Kurt moved closer under the covers and leaned over. His lips were soft and warm. They touched hers very gently, just a brush, and there was a sharp intake of breath and the warm lips pressed harder. Mercedes kissed back, gently at first, relaxing her lips, she moved a bit and pressed in. Kurt opened his mouth a tiny bit, his tongue touching her lower lip and she opened her mouth. This was more than a small kiss, more than a simple friend to friend kiss. It was more like a kiss on fire.

Her hands came up and pressed on Kurt's chest, gently pushing him away. He took a deep breath and the shaking increased. His lips came back, hungry for more and Mercedes felt so guilty -and so unable to stop him this time. Could he have been wrong?

Now his mouth made its way down her neck, kissing her skin, his breath coming heavier. She could not think straight as she pulled her hands through his hair, kissing his temple, sighing.

Mercedes began to panic. This could not go any farther.

“Kurt. KURT.” It hurt to say it, but she felt she had to.

“What?” he backed up.

“Let’s go to sleep. Okay?”

“Of course,” he said, always the gentleman.

They snuggled under the covers and both closed their eyes. But neither one fell asleep. In fact, neither one even relaxed. After a long time, Kurt turned towards her. He put his arms around her and turned her towards himself. He knew she wasn’t asleep, he’d know. And he loved that he knew that about her.

Mercedes knew something was going to happen, but she was scared to even think about what it was. In her limited experience, boys always wanted to fondle her breasts. And she had plenty there to fondle. She enjoyed the feeling, even encouraged it sometimes, but Kurt seemed to have no interest in that. He came closer, kissed her cheek. Even though he’s kissed her cheek a thousand times, it never felt like this. Her heart started beating harder. She closed her eyes, even though the room was dark. Should she pull away? She made a tiny move in that direction.

Kurt pulled her back, almost with ferocity. Wow, this was a whole new Kurt. He put his lips back on hers, softly at first, then with more heat. He licked her bottom lip, nibbled on it, then kissed her again. She could feel his heart pumping so fast and she began to feel a bit dizzy. She stiffened in his arms, still confused and he jumped back.

In a tiny whisper he asked, “Is it okay?”, leaving it up to her. Damn him. Why would he do that to her? She had no idea what to do now. The minutes ticked by. Slowly.

She didn’t answer him in words, she couldn’t think what to say. So she put her lips back on his and pulled him closer. He responded, and the kiss got deeper – his tongue finding hers and stroking it, taking her breath away. She rubbed her breasts against his chest, but that didn’t bring any response. He was so wrapped up in the kiss it was like nothing else mattered.

And then, just when she thought the kiss was all of it, Kurt shifted in the bed and something brushed her leg. Something hard as a brass rod. Mercedes was so shocked, she had no idea what to do for a minute. She knew how anatomy worked, knew it was Kurt’s arousal, but it was a new sensation. If it had been one of the boys she went to the movies or miniature golf with, Sam or Shane, she would have said some scathing remark guaranteed to wilt that rod in a New York minute. She had done that before. But this was her Kurt. And, well, dreams die hard in a romantic 15-year old heart. So she slowly put her hand down and stroked it lightly. And Kurt moaned.

This was getting out of hand, but like a runaway train, she couldn’t think how to derail it. Not that she wanted to. So she slid her fingers inside his pajama pants and pulled them down to his hips. Kurt got the message and kicked them off under the covers. His fingers found the elastic of her panties under her nightgown and pulled them off, too.

Oh, this was so hot. But some portion of Mercedes mind was working on the practical things girls have contemplated during sex since the beginning of time. Could she get pregnant? No. For two years she had been on the pill. Not for contraception, but because without it she had crippling menstrual cramps. And Kurt knew this. When she had stayed home from school in the beginning, writhing in bed, he came after school and rubbed her back. In spite of her embarrassment over the subject, she had eventually told him the problem and the solution. He had seen her take her pill just that morning, reminding her as he often did because she was forgetful.

All that thought process was over in a second, and she was free to get back to the things at hand. Like his cock. She had seen her little brother jerking off more than once. Tice just didn’t know how to lock a door. So she kind of knew a bit – he did some kind of stroking, using his fist. She gave that a try. Kurt made an even better noise. Then he said, “Harder, maybe a bit faster”, kind of under his breath. She tried, but a snort of frustration came from Kurt and his hand came to guide her, showing her the grip and rhythm. She went back to kissing him, delighted that girls can multi-task so much better than boys.

What she didn’t expect was Kurt’s hand slowly moving between her legs. Her mind was on her rhythmic pumping and kissing, so when he touched her in the most intimate spot imaginable, she squealed. He stopped. She moved her hand to his. Apparently they were both going to learn something new tonight.

Before it all ended in the way she thought it would, Kurt moved next to her ear, kissing and blowing his breath on her sensitive neck. His hand moved away from her body, stopping her hand from its quest to bring him to climax.

“Mercedes?”

“Uhhuh..?”

“You can say no, but I so want to …ah…”? He couldn’t even find a way to ask her. But Mercedes knew what it was and found she wanted the same thing, and pulled her hand back, moving her legs wider so he could move on top of her. The penetration began as searing pain, burning into her spine and making her legs numb. Her great intake of breath was misinterpreted though, and she had no words to make him stop. He was moaning and that made her feel better. She thought to herself, ‘I’m a strong girl. I can do this.’ And eventually it stopped hurting so much. It even felt good. Kurt began to move faster, his breath coming in sobs, and she felt him throbbing inside her. He lay as if dead for a minute, than slowly slid over to the side.

She had read countless novels where the man was insensitive after the first time, so she didn’t expect a lot, but Kurt was gentleness itself. He kissed her, pulled her to his chest in a hug. He whispered very quietly to ask if it had been okay for her. She said yes, not knowing how it might have been different.

They went into the bathroom and took a warm shower, Kurt rubbing her back, asking again if she was okay. They helped each other dry off, changed the linen quickly and climbed back into bed. Kurt pulled Mercedes close, wrapped his arms around her and fell asleep. Mercedes fell asleep a short time later, wondering what all this might mean.