Dec. 13, 2012, 9:41 a.m.
Kryptonite : Chapter 21
E - Words: 5,704 - Last Updated: Dec 13, 2012 Story: Closed - Chapters: 24/? - Created: Jul 30, 2012 - Updated: Dec 13, 2012 247 0 0 0 0
“Jeez Kurt, are you sure you’re alright? You look like you need a chair more than I do.”
Kurt ground his teeth and continued to hobble along the cinched ground. Sue had gotten the reporter clearance to investigate one of the explosion sites and Artie had come along to document anything significant they found. Artie had started working at The Planet around the same time Kurt did, and they had always been friendly, thanks to back when he and Tina had dated once upon a time.
“I’m fine,” he muttered, trying ineffectively to ignore the burning pain that shot up his backside every time he took a step.
“Someone had a good weekend,” the photographer teased as wheeled along beside Kurt.
He couldn’t argue with Artie there. This weekend had proven that waiting to make love with Blaine had been so worth it. Unfortunately, the—quite literally—super sex and the joys of having a well-endowed boyfriend had come with some side effects: mainly, the near-crippling soreness Kurt was dealing with right now. He didn’t dare let Blaine know about the pain though, because if the hero found out, he’d flip, then beat himself up for hurting Kurt no matter how vehemently the reporter insisted that he had loved every freaking minute of it, and they’d be back to square one sex-wise. Thank McQueen he hadn’t had any reason to get up from his desk frequently this morning at The Planet or Blaine definitely would have noticed Kurt’s altered stride.
“Stay out of my sex life, Abrams,” Kurt shot back playfully. “Speaking of which, seduced any babes lately?
Artie laughed. “Well, I’ve actually started dating this one girl. We’re not exclusive yet and she’s a little slow on the uptake, but damn she’s a dancer and has got the body of a—“
“Okay, gay guy here, remember?” Kurt interjected, albeit fondly.
The photographer chuckled. “Right, sorry man. Anyways, things are looking good for this playa.”
“Happy to hear it,” he replied.
The pair walked along for a couple more minutes in silence, with the exception of the click of Artie’s camera every few seconds, before one spoke again.
“So, what exactly are we supposed to be looking for?” Artie inquired, his eyes scanning the large, desolate crater.
Kurt sighed. “I don’t know. The lab work came back and the remains here match the chemicals in the stolen missiles, but other than that, I’m not sure. I just figured since Sue got us clearance it couldn’t hurt to check it out.”
“What do you think this person is planning?”
“Ugh, I don’t know about that either,” Kurt groaned. “Our best lead is that this is some sort of terrorist group, which could explain why they haven’t made any secret of testing their firepower like this. However, no group has come forward and declared themselves connected to the explosions, and there haven’t been any video tapes released with threats or demands…”
“Weird,” commented Artie.
“Very,” Kurt concurred.
They continued to inspect the site, strolling the circumference of the crater a few more times before giving up. Little did they know, Artie hadn’t been the only one there with a camera.
“Yeah, put me through to Mr. Luthor,” the henchmen said gruffly into the receiver of his cell phone. “I don’t care if he’s busy! He’s going to want to see this…”
0-0-0
Once back at The Daily Planet’s headquarters, Kurt and Blaine were immediately summoned to Sue’s office.
“Wood Nymph, I can literally smell the putrid scent of failure rolling off of you and polluting my office, which leads me to conclude that your little excursion with Wheels to the explosion site today was an absolute disappointment,” Sue began.
Kurt rolled his eyes, “We’re working on it, Sue.”
“Anyway, you must be wondering why I called you two here, especially you Kurt, since you’ve been hideously underperforming lately,” she continued. “Well, I’ve just received word from the Mayor himself that next week he will be presenting Superman with the key to the city.”
Blaine gasped involuntarily. Kurt had to resist the urge to reach for his boyfriend’s hand.
“I know, Tom Thumb, I nearly wet myself with excitement as well,” Sue responded. “Naturally, I want you to cover the event since the two of you seem to be the only journalists in Metropolis who can get a hold of Superman. I want another interview with the hero himself, one with the Mayor and not just a statement from his press people, and the reactions of the adoring citizens, you know, all that heartwarming crap.”
“Of course Sue,” Kurt replied. “It’d be an honor.”
Sue stared at him incredulously. “Wait a minute, either someone has slipped a Percocet into the girly froth you call coffee or that tightness of your pants has finally cut of all circulation to your head. You’re actually accepting to work with Anderson over here without a long and ultimately futile argument?”
Shit! Kurt froze and shared a momentary glance with Blaine. He scrambled to get back into bitch mode as quickly as possible. “I know how to pick my battles, Sue. Besides, Blaine knows better than to get in the way of me and my Pulitzer.”
Blaine nodded emphatically in agreement for good measure. “I sure do, Ms. Sylvester.”
“Whatever you say, Eyebrows ,” Sue said “Now get out of my office. That goes for you too, Smurfette.”
As both men filed out of the Editor-in-Chief’s office, they exchanged a look that clearly translated to Later. While Blaine headed back to his desk, Kurt did his best to stride over to Mercedes desk. The columnist was immersed with whatever piece of gossip she was typing up when Kurt said her name.
Mercedes looked up from her work with a disinterested glare. “Yes?”
“Hey,” Kurt began uneasily, he knew he had some major explaining to do. “I wanted to apologize for the drama queen routine I pulled Friday night. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you like that.”
“Yeah, you shouldn’t have,” Mercedes agreed, her eyes focusing back on her computer screen, her tone of voice remaining apathetic.
Kurt sighed. “Come on, ‘Cedes, I’m trying here.”
The dark-skinned girl finally gave him her full attention to reply. “That’s not the point. I don’t like what’s been happening between us. We’ve been fighting more frequently than ever, I barely see you outside of work anymore, and when I think about when all of this started happening, it was when you started going out with Blake.”
“That’s not true—“ Kurt attempted to interject.
“Kurt, the last time I saw you cry in public was at Junior Prom when they announced that you had won Prom Queen,” Mercedes cut him off. “And that was just in front of the Glee Club. Now all of a sudden you’re leaving crowded restaurants in tears over a guy?”
“Blake had a family emergency. I felt bad for getting pissed at him for being there,” Kurt lied pitifully.
“That man is no good for you,” Mercedes asserted.
Kurt hesitated, torn between groveling and defending himself to Mercedes. “Can you please just respect my decision here?”
“As long as you respect my decision not to talk to you until you’ve gotten rid of that loser,” she countered.
“Mercedes,” Kurt pleaded, his heart heavy. He couldn’t believe it, Kurt and Mercedes never let guys get in the way of their friendship. The reporter opened his mouth, a heartfelt appeal on the tip of his tongue when the phone on Mercedes’s desk rang.
“Mel Manton,” Mercedes answered the phone with her pen name.
Kurt studied her for a moment incredulously as she ignored him before shuffling back to his desk in defeat. He could tell Blaine was itching to address what had just happened but Kurt shot him the same later look.
0-0-0
That evening, Kurt had candles lit, jazz softly playing, and Blaine’s favorite meal, lobster mac and cheese (even though the calorie count was astronomical, Kurt could make allowances every once in a while) waiting on the table. The reporter had just settled down on the couch with his laptop when he heard a voice.
“What’s all this?”
Kurt’s head snapped up to reveal Blaine, dressed in superhero garb, leaning on the doorframe of his balcony. Even after these past few months, the sight of Superman never failed to take Kurt’s breath away.
“We’re celebrating,” he explained simply, moving his laptop to the coffee table and pushing himself up across the room to greet Blaine.
“Celebrating?” Blaine repeated curiously, taking a few steps toward Kurt so the two men met in the middle of living room in an embrace.
“Well, it’s not every day the man you love gets the key to the city,” he pointed out, nuzzling Blaine’s neck before connecting their lips in a languid kiss.
“Hmmm, I guess you have a point there,” the hero conceded.
“I’m assuming your mother already knows?” Kurt asked, pressing kisses into the strong line of his boyfriend’s jaw.
“Of course,” he chuckled. “I called her as soon as I got off work. She wanted to fly in for the ceremony, but a potential buyer from Tulsa is supposed to meet with her the same day about the corn crop. It’s disappointing, but we can’t be turning away any business these days.”
“They’ll be plenty of pictures and videos and articles written by Superman himself to help her feel like she was actually there,” Kurt offered softly. When all he received in reply with an unsatisfied hum from Blaine, he added, “Besides, I don’t think this will be the last award ceremony held in Superman’s honor anyway.”
Blaine smiled weakly. “You really think so?”
“I know so,” Kurt told him, every fiber of his being sincere. “Now come on, you look tired. You need to eat and refuel for part two of celebrating.”
Blaine’s tired smile quickly morphed into a leering grin as he reached around and took a handful of Kurt’s ass, squeezing it appreciatively. “I wonder what that will entail?”
It was a struggle for Kurt to keep himself from dragging Blaine straight into the bedroom whenever his boyfriend’s voice dropped into that gravelly, aroused register, but his inner-chef miraculously prevailed. He took Blaine’s hand and led him over to the table. “Eat and you’ll find out.”
“Whatever you say, Mr. Hummel,” Blaine acquiesced, pulling out the chair for his lover, unable to ignore how carefully Kurt lowered himself into it. The hero didn’t feel like starting an argument at the moment, however, so he let it slide.
Dinner passed by uneventfully. The men chatted about their days, Kurt told Blaine his thoughts on Marc Jacob’s new collection, Blaine told Kurt about the bomb scare he had just came from, and they both started developing a game plan for covering Superman’s key to the city ceremony.
“So, regarding the Superman interview, do you want me to actually interview you or do you just want to write something yourself? But wait, do you think we should do it at the event? I’m sure Sue wants to attract as much attention to The Planet as possible so…” Kurt trailed off once he noticed that Blaine wasn’t responding and his concentration was trained to the TV where the news was playing lowly. Kurt sighed. “Go.”
Blaine was jerked back into the conversation by his boyfriend’s command. “No, it’s okay. I think they can probably handle it on their own.”
The reporter rolled his eyes. “Blaine, it’s fine, we’re done with dinner anyway. Go save the day and then we’ll move on to Celebration: Part Two when you get back.”
The hero was standing over Kurt’s chair in a blink of an eye. He wore an earnest look of appreciation on his face as looked down at Kurt. “You’re seriously the best boyfriend ever, do you know that?”
“I may have heard a couple of rumors to the effect,” he teased. Blaine leaned down and swept Kurt into a breathtaking liplock. “Okay, now you seriously have to go, because the sooner you get back, the sooner you can ravish me,” the reporter panted once Blaine had finally released his mouth.
“I don’t know what you have planned Kurt, but despite your best efforts at camouflage, I saw you limping today, baby. We have to take it easy tonight, okay?”
Kurt rolled his eyes once again while muttering “buzzkill” under his breath. Blaine chuckled at the insult.
“Be back in a bit, babe,” Blaine promised him. He pecked Kurt on the cheek and was gone an instant later.
Stupid, observant boyfriend, Kurt huffed to himself as he began to gather up the dirty plates and bring them over the kitchen. Who does he think he is? Who gave him the power to determine every aspect of our sex life? Okay, I know he’s just being considerate and careful, but don’t I get a say in this? It is my ass after all, I think it’s only fair if I get to determine if I’m too sore for more sex. It’s not my fault he’s just so fucking sexy that it’s impossible to resist him—
Kurt stopped mid-scrub, his sponge-filled hand halting over the plate he was cleaning as a brilliant, devious idea entered his mind. The reporter couldn’t help but let a wicked smirk twist the corners of his lips upwards as a sinfully sexy plan formed in his mind. Clearly Blaine didn’t find Kurt as irresistible as he found Blaine, so that meant he would just have to level the playing field a little bit…
0-0-0
Blaine forced himself to fly faster, the North American continent becoming even more of a blur below him as his speed increased. Of course just when he and Kurt were getting intimate, the Hoover Dam had to have a leak that only Superman could patch up.
The hero pushed the selfish thoughts from his head as he continued to soar toward Metropolis, the city lights becoming only a haze of brightness underneath him. Blaine hesitated for a moment to check the clock in Times Square, he had only been gone about an hour, and zipped back to Kurt’s apartment downtown.
“Kurt!” Blaine called as he glided through the balcony doors. “I’m back!” He paused to take off his boots. “Where are you, sweetie?”
“In here!” Kurt called in reply. Blaine’s heightened sense of hearing immediately located his boyfriend in the bathroom, the way his high, clear voice was unmistakably bouncing off the cream tile that the room was paneled in.
Oh no, Blaine internally fretted. Has Kurt already begun his moisturizing routine? Because if he’s already begun his moisturizing routine, than there’s a very good chance I’m not getting any tonight. Jeez, was he really that upset about me telling him to take it easy?
Blaine loved sex. And no, not in the usual way that every guy loved sex. Well, that was a part of it. But what no one would understand, is how much Blaine loved how close it made him feel to other people. After twenty-two years of metaphorical loneliness in Westerville and another eight of actual isolation in the artic, being able to connect with someone so intimately was almost a very highly lauded privilege to Blaine. And then to be able to connect with Kurt was almost too much to bear. Nothing made him feel more alive than when he was making love to Kurt, not even the first time he flew back during his senior year of high school.
Nevertheless, Blaine was expecting to find his boyfriend pajama-clad and applying god-knows-what-plant extract to his face when he super-speeded into the bathroom. Therefore, the sight of Kurt wet, naked, and lounging in a luxurious bubble bath knocked the breath out of the hero.
“Oh, hello dear,” Kurt greeted his gawking boyfriend in a nonchalant, teasing tone. “You took longer than I expected, I was starting to get worried.”
Blaine gurgled in response.
“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that,” Kurt taunted as he lathered a loofah and began to rub it over his skin sensually.
“I, um…” The hero struggled to formulate coherent thoughts, his cock was hardening against the tight spandex of his pants rapidly. “…what are you doing?”
“I’m taking your advice,” Kurt informed him as-a-matter-of-factly. “You said I should take things easy, and I have been feeling rather sore today, so I thought what better way to relax than a nice, hot bath?”
Blaine was momentarily distracted from responding by Kurt lifting one of his legs almost perpendicular to the ground to lather it up. He eyed the pale expanse of skin and blatant show of flexibility hungrily. “You’re evil you know that right?”
“Hmm, I thought I was ‘seriously the best boyfriend ever’,” Kurt mused deviously as he switched legs. Blaine whimpered. “Would I be less evil if I invited you to join me?”
There was a flash of movement and then Blaine was towering over the tub naked. Kurt couldn’t help but bite his lip at the sight.
“Get behind me,” he ordered breathlessly.
Blaine complied, a smirk playing on his lips, as he climbed into the bathtub and settled himself behind his boyfriend. He wasted no time procuring the loofah from Kurt’s hands to wash him himself and began to plant kisses along the back of his neck as well as the tops of his shoulders.
Kurt couldn’t repress the groan Blaine’s ministrations had elicited. “So what was the big emergency?”
“A part of the Hoover Dam gave out,” Blaine explained as he dragged his hand little by little down his lover’s abdomen. Kurt gasped and grinded back in response. “I had to patch it up.”
“Mmm,” Kurt hummed contentedly as the hero continued his teasing strokes with the sponge.
“You’re so beautiful babe, do you know that?” Blaine murmured into Kurt’s shoulder. “God, your skin, it’s all so smooth and flawless.”
Kurt turned his head to capture Blaine’s lips in a heated kiss. In no time their tongues were plundering each other’s mouths, and Kurt began to steadily grind back onto the hardness pressing into his lower back insistently. Blaine let a low groan of his own as their tongues continued to twine.
“Fuck me, Blaine,” Kurt panted against Blaine’s parted lips.
The hero hesitated, pulling away slightly. “Kurt,” he began cautiously.
Kurt sighed and maneuvered around in the tub so he was kneeling between his boyfriend’s spread legs, face-to-face with Blaine, a little bit of water sloshing over the edge of the tub from the movement.
“Okay, listen here Blaine Anderson. You may be my boyfriend and a superhero, but you are not the boss of me. I know you are just being considerate, but I promise you, I am fine,” Kurt urged before amending himself. “Well, I would be better if I were full of your cock.”
Blaine gulped. “Are you sure?” Kurt responded by wrapping a hand around Blaine’s erection and squeezing. The hero squirmed but pressed on, his voice conspicuously higher than usual. “Because I could still get you off, we could get in some frottage or I could su—“ another more forceful squeeze “—ah! Okay, okay! Allow me to commend you on your ‘nonverbal communication’ skills.”
Kurt relented and climbed into Blaine’s lap. “I’m sorry, it’s just…you know I trust you, Blaine. And I don’t have super strength so I don’t know what it’s like, but sometimes I feel that you don’t trust yourself with me. I may not be from Krypton, but believe it or not, I’m not one of those porcelain dolls I look so much like.”
Blaine laughed softly and let his hands slide from Kurt’s hips to his ass. “But just so we can be clear, you want to have penetrative sex tonight?”
Kurt slapped the Kryptonian on the chest playfully. “Very funny.”
Blaine flashed him an impish grin before the world momentarily began a blur and Kurt found himself spread out on the bed, the hero hovering over him. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Kurt echoed.
Blaine lowered himself slowly, allowing their lips to drift together and their groins to meet and begin a leisurely grind, the slide of their bodies aided by the moisture from the bath. Eventually, Blaine’s hand found Kurt’s cock and began to pump firmly.
“Blaine,” the reporter gasped in between kisses. “Don’t make me wait any longer, I need you.”
The hero grunted in comprehension and broke away so he could fetch the necessary supplies. However, once Blaine had gotten the condom and lube, he didn’t resume his horizontal position with Kurt, instead he chose to sit back on his heels, a nervous expression on his features.
Kurt lifted his head up to regard him from his supine position on the bed. “Yes?”
“I um…have a request,” he informed Kurt, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
The reporter smirked and answered in a more suggestive tone. “Yes?”
“Would you get on your hands and knees for me?”
“Of course,” Kurt replied, sitting up to shift his position. He paused before turning over to press a kiss to Blaine’s lips and promise him, “I would do anything for you, baby.”
Once Kurt had gotten into position, Blaine ran his hands over the globes of the other man’s ass reverently.
“Enjoying the view?” Kurt called over his shoulder.
“Mmm, yeah,” Blaine guaranteed him as he gripped his cheeks and pulled them apart. “You look so sexy presenting yourself to me.”
As if Blaine talking dirty wasn’t sexy enough, Kurt soon felt the unmistakable wet swipe of the Kryptonian’s tongue lick the length of his cleft moments later, his arms threatening to give out from the contact.
“Nnngh, Blaine,” Kurt moaned.
“Don’t worry babe, I’m just getting started.”
Kurt couldn’t help but moan again at Blaine’s promise on account of how his voice had slipped into that sexy, low, gravelly range that he loved so much and if Blaine’s skills with his tongue during blowjobs were any indication, Kurt was in for a treat. The hero traced his rim with the tip of his tongue a few times before breaching Kurt’s entrance ever so slowly. Kurt’s eyes closed, his hands fisted in the sheets below, and his toes curled as Blaine thrust his tongue in and out of his lover’s heat at painfully unhurried pace. After a slew of pleas and whining on Kurt’s part, Blaine finally replaced his tongue with a slick finger, and proceeded to stretch the reporter methodically.
Blaine was working four fingers into Kurt before he gave into the bossy bottom stereotype he seemed to have been conforming to the entire night, but too painfully aroused to care, as he demanded, “Come on, Blaine! Just fuck me already!”
The hero chuckled darkly as he leaned over Kurt’s back, his member brushing between his cheeks, as Blaine whispered in his ear, “I love it when you beg.”
Kurt’s arms wobbled once more. “And you say I’m the evil one.”
Another low laugh rumbled from Blaine’s chest and leaned back. A moment later his cock, condom on and lubed up, was lined up with Kurt’s ass.
“Blaine—“
“Tell me how much you want my cock, baby,” the hero ordered him.
Kurt struggled to support his weight as his eyes rolled back in his head as he head swam from all the arousal. “Blaine, please can I have your cock? It’s so big and thick and it fills me up. I know you’ve been worried about me being sore and limping but what you don’t understand is I like it, Blaine. I like being reminded of you and how well you fuck me when I take a step or go to sit down. You’re like the perfect lover, Blaine, and I like having a physical reminder of how lucky I am to have you.”
Kurt felt a gentle press of lips on his back. “I’m lucky to have you too,” he heard Blaine tell him from behind, his voice no longer rough and authoritative, but kind and tender. “I love you.”
The reporter was about to return the sentiment, yet Blaine had decided to push in at that moment, therefore Kurt’s declaration of love morphed into a high-pitched keen as the Kryptonian eased his cock inside of him. “You okay?”
“Yes,” he replied, his voice no more than breathy exhalation.
“Good,” Blaine murmured, stroking his hand along Kurt’s side before he pulled back so only the large, swollen head of his manhood was holding Kurt open before thrusting in again.
Another loud moan escaped Kurt’s lips. Usually he would be slightly embarrassed by his increased vocalness during their lovemaking, but Blaine had nailed his prostate dead on and unlike the hero behind him, he was only human.
Blaine set a steady pace, dragging his cock in and out of Kurt with measured strokes, each one hitting that special bundle of nerves every time. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Kurt knew that should be impossible, and also that he would probably be receiving complaints from his neighbors due to the loud and reckless volume he was encouraging Blaine with. But the reporter was much too drunk on the sensation of Blaine’s cock filling him over and over again, sending jolts of pleasure coursing throughout his body with every thrust to care at the moment.
“You like that, baby?” Blaine inquired with another perfectly aimed shove of his hips.
Kurt could only reply with a drawn out moan. He could feel his orgasm building side of him rapidly, threatening to erupt soon. He had been hard for so long and with all the stimulation Blaine was lavishing on his prostate, Kurt wouldn’t be surprised if he came only from his lover’s cock.
“I’m going to kick it up a notch, beautiful,” he told him. “Do you think you can handle that, love?”
“Unngh, fuck yes.”
Blaine transitioned from merely thrusting to pistoning his cock in and out of Kurt, grunting with exertion as he did so. Whether it was from exertion to thrust harder or struggling to keep his movements at human pace and strength, Kurt wasn’t sure, although he assumed the latter. Yet all semblances of coherent thought were obliterated from Kurt’s mind two thrusts later when the fire of his orgasm consumed his body, the hot liquid pleasure scorching Kurt from the inside out as he exploded onto the sheets below him. Kurt was too blissed out to recognize if Blaine had achieved his climax as well, but from the low groan and the release of his hips, now with five finger-shaped bruises on each side, onto the bed, he was pretty confident his boyfriend hadn’t had much trouble getting off either.
An immeasurable amount of time passed as Kurt tried to regain his senses. Blaine, on the other hand, had lain down next to his prone figure on his bed, tracing his pointer finger along the dip in his spine as he waited.
“Looks like you’re going to need another bath,” he mused quietly.
“How do you do that?”
“Do what?” Blaine asked, genuinely puzzled by Kurt’s question.
“How did you manage to hit my prostate every single time?” he clarified.
“X-ray vision, baby. It’s good for more than just seeing through walls,” Blaine answered back rather smugly.
Kurt gaped. Blaine had actually looked inside of him while they were having sex? Wouldn’t that be gross? He didn’t even know that Blaine could do that. Then again, Blaine had never specified any limitations of his x-ray vision, but still, it just seemed kind of weird that his boyfriend would put his ability to use in such a way.
“Um, Kurt?” the Kryptonian’s voice interrupted his thoughts. Kurt blinked and made eye contact with Blaine, who looked visibly concerned. “I’m sorry if I freaked you out…hey, forget about the x-ray vision thing. I’m really good at sex, that’s how I was able to hit your prostate every time…yeah.”
Kurt burst into laughter. The worry on Blaine’s face increased ten-fold.
“And now you’re laughing hysterically, which is actually making me more anxious than when you were all quiet and pensive. Okay, I’m sorry I used my x-ray vision, just please don’t break up with me—“
“Blaine!” Kurt exclaimed, kissing him to show that he had no intention of breaking up. “It’s fine. More than fine actually, I think the last time I came so hard when was you jerked me off for the first time. I was just surprised that’s all.”
“So you laugh when you’re surprised?” Blaine questioned, still not completely assuaged.
“No, no. I was laughing because I love how you can go from all sexy and dominating to sweet and unassuming in literally a blink of an eye,” he explained.
Blaine lips twisted into a small, bashful grin. “One of the side effects of living a double life, I guess.”
Kurt kissed him once again. “I suppose.”
“So you’re okay with it?”
“Blaine—“
“I’m just making sure!” he claimed in his defense. “I know being in a relationship with me is more complicated than it would be with a normal guy—“
“Blaine,” Kurt cut him off, taking Blaine’s face in his hands. “Don’t do that. None of us are normal. You’re just not normal in a different way than most of us and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
A silence permeated the bedroom as the two men exchanged a meaningful gaze, Kurt trying to convince Blaine with his eyes rather than his words. The Kryptonian spoke first, his voice quiet but sincere. “I know I’ve said it before, but you seriously are the best boyfriend ever.”
“Thank you,” Kurt replied. “Now I’m going to need you to help me into the shower and change the sheets, because my sexy-hot superhero boyfriend undid all the cleansing effects of my bath when he made me come all over the sheets from only his cock.”
Blaine groaned as he rose from the bed and padded toward the bathroom. “Okay, I’m just going to remind you once, you’re too sensitive and I have a thirty-second recovery time. Watch that deliciously filthy mouth of yours.”
Kurt bit his lip as he smirked mischievously. “Love you, honey.”
“Love you too, evil one.”
0-0-0
“Well,” Dave stormed into the room with determination, his voice echoing the various steel appliances in the lab. “Who the hell are they?”
Dr. Masuda, a scrawny Asian man with large glasses, shuffled over to him amongst the frenzy of researchers and scientists crowding the space. “Mr. Luthor, if you would direct your attention to the screen above,” Dave did so and looked over at the large screen above the several control panels along the northern wall. “Our face recognition technology has identified the man in the wheelchair as Arthur Abrams, and the other man with him as Kurt Hummel.”
Kurt Hummel, so that was his name. Earlier that afternoon when he had heard that two reporters had been spotted snooping around on of the test sites, Dave had been more than ready to murder the meddling bastards. But that had been before he had received the photos from the site, and although Dave fancied himself ruthless, even he couldn’t bring himself to off a guy in a wheelchair. That and the man with him was hands down the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Tall, but not too tall, slim but with a perfect, round, full, undoubtedly tight ass (Dave had paid the photographer an extra hundred grand simply because he had gotten shots of his back), and otherworldly features. Seriously, the man looked like some sort of sexy sprite that had walked straight out of Lord of the Rings or some other nerdy fantasy novel series that Dave most definitely did not read in junior high.
The man, Kurt Hummel, was perfection. Dave had almost popped a boner in the middle of the boardroom during a meeting with LuthorCorp’s trustees when he had been shown the pictures. After the meeting, he had excused himself to the executive bathroom to better “study” the incriminating photos. The CEO had always prided himself on his self-control, if anyone had ever suggested that Dave Luthor was gay to one of his peers, they would regard the notion with a bout of dismissive laughter. Dave never flirted with men, he was meticulous when it came to hiring prostitutes, hell, he was even pretty good about resisting the urge to check out guys in public. But there something about this Kurt that made Dave want dress in head to toe rainbow and plow his ass into next Tuesday for the world to see. And even though Dave knew that it should infuriate him, that he should hate the little twink for threatening his carefully constructed mask of heterosexuality, the prospect of possibly outing himself excited Dave that much more.
Needless to say, the original plan of murder had been scrapped. Now Dave would take care of the cripple in the most ethical way possible, and Kurt…Dave was going to make Kurt his.
“Mr. Luthor?”
Dave blinked out of his own thoughts. “Right. Yes, well what else?”
Dr. Masuda eyed the billionaire suspiciously for a moment before continuing. “We’ve compiled profiles of their personal information—addresses, contact information, legal records…”
“So these include their numbers at The Daily Planet?” inquired Dave as he perused the files. They had included pictures. Good.
“Unfortunately, no,” Dr. Masuda informed him.
“No?” And he was paying this geek two point five million a year because…?
“The Planet uses pen names for all their staff and they keep their real identities behind a firewall not even we could break,” the scientist explained. “Regrettably, the press passes the two were wearing didn’t have any form of individual identification on them.”
Dave huffed in frustration.
“If you don’t mind me asking Mr. Luthor,” Dr. Masuda said. “We have their home addresses and personal cell phones listed in the files, why do you want their workplace information?”
The billionaire shot him a glare. “That’s none of your business, Masuda. Get back to the Superman case.”
The man hurried away instantly. Dave smirked to himself, answering the doctor’s question in his head. It’s all part of the plan…