Title: Sunshine and Chocolate
Additional Pairings: none
Summary: 'Sunshine and chocolate, all over you, over everything you do, on your body and in your mind, sunshine, chocolate, everything's...'
Author's Notes: Written for Challenge 21B. Yes, you heard right. TWENTY-ONE. Damn I'm late XD. Anyway, that also means this is Bridgie's birfday present from me. Though I think the One Ring was a lot better gift than this little thing... Still, I'm VERY pleased with the end result, which is surprising and scary, and I'm probably not gonna sleep tonight because I must get ready for work in two hours, but WHEEE!! I FUCKING WROTE SOMETHING OMG1!!11!!!!! [dies happy]
Disclaimer: Closest-thing-to-bishounen-America's-got Kurt and the lovely and amazing Toad-Boy belong to Marvel, the WB, and probably bunches of other wonderful peoples. So do anyone else mentioned herein. I don't own them, I'm just a klepto who intends no harm and will return them when I'm done. Please dun hurt me.
Additional Disclaimer: 'Sunshine and Chocolate' is by Semisonic, and can be found on their 'Chemistry' CD. Check it out, the song ownz big time.
Around them the battle rages: explosions, the force wave of a concussive blast, a fierce wind as a silvered figure streaks by, too fast to be more than a blur. But they stand apart from it all, not hearing or seeing any of it. All either of them knows is sweat, straining muscles and the heat of their exertion. Nothing else dares to intrude on their personal war-within-a-war...
Until the rumbling starts. The ground pitches beneath them, sending both struggling boys slamming into the dirt. Kurt lands on top, an elbow digging into Todd's stomach, and something in him clenches at the boy's sharp grunt and pained grimace. For reasons entirely contrary to his duty, Kurt finds himself suddenly taking advantage.
Without warning he has the boy pinned, straddling his hips, digging his feet into the sides of the boy's legs and trapping his thin wrists against the dirt above his head. Surprise graces Todd's pale features for an instant, before being overtaken by an angry grimace. He struggles against Kurt's grip, eyes squeezed shut as he squirms, pulling against Kurt's tridactyl hands.
And Kurt holds on tighter, and watches crimson flash through now-opened eyes, and tries not to moan as slim hips buck against his butt. One bony knee catches him between the shoulder-blades and his tail takes control, wrapping around each of the boy's thrashing legs in turn. It holds them still, as he presses his weight forward; Todd's body is hot against his, muscles tight as coiled wire, lithe and writhing and-
It's a simple, sudden action that changes everything. A move of sheer desperation, borne of months of dutiful repression and confusion and such need... A move fraught with courage or complete and utter stupidity, afterward he could never quite tell which. But Kurt pauses only a moment to catch Todd's eye, halting the boy's struggles with the look, before shifting, tail loosening its grip, one knee pressing and rolling over the heated flesh of his thigh before settling awkwardly between Todd's legs.
Todd's eyes widen, his mouth falling open almost imperceptibly, and he seems to sink somehow into the ground. Kurt swallows against the burr in his throat and moves again, knee tentatively brushing against the boy's overheated flesh. A sharp intake of breath is his reward, a moment of renewed squirming, and he bites his lip, and moves again.
It's harder this time, more insistent. Kurt's knee presses into the heat again, rubs roughly against sweat-dampened denim. Todd groans, a throaty sound totally at odds with his usual high pitch, and Kurt closes his eyes.
Then it's over. A shout claims victory (though for whose side Kurt doesn't know, or care) and another calls for retreat in words carefully designed to make it clear they're not running away so much as getting bored with the whole deal. Kurt falls back, tail untangling itself from Todd's legs, and gets slowly to his feet, sheepish gaze fixed on the flattened amber grass by the boy's head.
Without a word he turns and bounds away, rejoining teammates whose eyes he can't quite meet. In the cherry red sports car he fails to play himself convincingly, and quickly gives up, contenting himself with sitting back and concentrating on the chill night breeze blowing his hair across his vision. Not on the confused glances Jean keeps throwing to the back seat, or the suspicious glare Rogue sends his way.
And when they make it back to the mansion he goes to his room, locks his door, and strokes himself to desperate climax, one name falling from his lips with all the weight of a death knell...
They saw each other in the cluttered, crowded halls of Bayville High - which somehow managed to feel barren, even in the bodily press of the between-classes rush - and for a while it was as if the fight was just another fight, another case of going through the motions of hate. Todd would glare, make jokes to his ragtag gang, trip Kurt with a deft tongue around his ankle and leave him flailing and falling and everything was the same.
For a while.
And if that hint of curiousity in Todd's sharp gaze meant anything, Kurt chalked it up to wishful, deluded thinking. He kept going, somehow, though he avoided Rogue's eye now - every bit of taunting Todd sent his way seemed to deepen the furrow in her pale brow, and tighten the line of her dark lips, and when she looked at Kurt it wasn't with the same indulgent, sisterly eye he'd become so dependent on...
Jean didn't have to question.
He cut across the football field that day. It was a route he only took on the rare occasion that he couldn't catch a ride back to the Institute; except this time it wasn't so much a case of 'couldn't' as a case of 'please Gott, just give me a moment'. The silence followed him across the field, as the wind picked at the hangtag on his zippered hoodie, its bright clicking seemingly the only sound for miles. The school had been deserted long ago.
But he wasn't alone. Todd waited for him under the bleachers, slouching against the aged, cracked wood, picking at his fingernails and pointedly ignoring the dusty, half-dried mud he was sitting in.
Amber met gold, and Kurt froze.
The word floated easily through the light atmosphere, carried on a breeze that ruffled and burrowed and hid in Kurt's fur. He flinched.
"What do you want?" His mumbled reply didn't carry. It seemed to fall from his lips, and rolled pathetically along the ground to halt at Todd's feet, straining to bounce to his ears but too weak to make it. It was desperate and pleading and Kurt shut his eyes and turned his head.
The boy stirred before him. "Geez, defensive? A guy can't say hello without-"
"What do you WANT, Todd?" And that was better, harder, more determined and frustrated and less needy. Almost strong enough to forgive that undercurrent of hurt.
Kurt opened his eyes again, and turned to find amber eyes regarding him quizzically. Todd's back was straight, all trace of his customary slouch gone, and a pale hand rested on his pale chin. "Question is fool, what'd YOU want?"
It happened suddenly, another simple move that changed everything. Though not all that simple; Todd's tongue flew with expert precision wrapping around Kurt's slim waist before the stammered, questioning reply managed to free itself from his throat. For a moment Kurt was airborne; his flight ended as quickly as it had begun, surprise giving way to pain as his back slammed roughly into the bleachers.
The heavy, ancient wood shook with the contact, the rusted metal fixtures jangling in a teeth-chattering cacophany. A cry finally shot out of Kurt's throat, as sharp, cutting pain began to lance up his back and throb through his shoulders. Before he realized the boy's tongue had left his waist, Todd was on him, fingers wrapped securely around his wrists and knees pressing painfully into his legs.
Breath hissed around his ear, warm and moist, in dangerous contrast to the crisp, cool air that surrounded them. A hint of chocolate, of musk, and the sun danced weakly on Todd's shoulder, putting him in silohuette as he leaned in, pressing his deceptive weight against Kurt's body. Kurt shuddered, and squirmed, and looked away. "Get OFF, Toad!"
"Ooh, convincing. I could almost believe you didn't like this." The grin carried on his sickening-sweet voice, making itself felt despite the shadows hiding his thin lips. Again Kurt struggled against Todd's grip, but the fingers wrapped around his wrists were tight, and steady, and the legs lying against his, with Todd's full weight above them, were heavier than the skinny boy had a right to be. Kurt's squirming ended quickly, after accomplishing nothing.
He had to tell himself it wasn't for lack of trying, and grit his teeth, and hope Todd didn't notice the whine in his voice when he snapped, "Will you just...just...Fuck off?!"
One dark eyebrow raised appreciatively, as a smirk crept over Todd's face. "Tell ya' what, Fuzz-butt. I'll leave, no problem. Only, you gotta-" his weight shifted, and something hard and warm pressed between Kurt's thighs. The infinitesimal scratching of denim on denim assaulted Kurt's ears. "-tell me you don't want this." The smirk turned into something that could only charitably be described as a leer, and an ice that had nothing to do with the air - and everything to do with the boy's treacherous, tempting tone - blossomed in the pit of Kurt's stomach.
Amber eyes flashed downwards for a moment; when they returned, what lurked inside of them made Kurt's throat burn. "You're gonna have to be more convincing than that, yo. A LOT more."
How it finally happened, Kurt couldn't possibly say. Pressure behind his eyes, heat flaring across his face, the familiar strain of worked muscles; suddenly Todd was below him, staring up with surprise in his eyes and hunger on his lips. Kurt bent forward, mouth slightly open, breath leaving him in short gasps. When their skin finally met, it was tongue to soft lip, Kurt licking tentatively.
Bare seconds passed before Todd responded, lips parting only to close around Kurt's tongue. He sucked greedily, hungrily, teeth grazing the sensitive skin; webbed fingers tangled themselves in silken blue hair, while others danced lightly over short, plush fur.
A moan escapes Kurt's lips. He presses forward, giving himself to the kiss and his hands to the other boy, letting his strange, thick fingers play along Todd's sides. The kiss is sweet, sharp and stinging. There's soda on the boy's lips; Kurt's tingle gently with the contact, and he plunges in deeper, finding chocolate burnished into the skin, cloying and bittersweet and it's so much better than his desperate imagination could've conjured up. He wants to drown in it, a sweet sweet death...
The fingers have migrated; they crawl down Kurt's sides, not quite tickling, not quite caressing, a sensation that is and isn't both. Already the chill is gone, and his thin jacket stifles him as if it were tight, heavy leather. He tries to take it off, his thick fingers fumbling with the zipper and only managing to open it a bit, letting in just enough air to make the heat that much more unbearable. But a desperate whimper is all it takes; within seconds Todd's released him from the offending jacket with an irritated grunt, deft hands doing their job without them even having to break their kiss.
Which is a very good thing, as far as Kurt's concerned, because the kiss is so, so...
Oh Gott... Those same hands are moving again, that same maddening touch flowing down, down, till it reaches the waist of Kurt's jeans. Of all the days to have your shirt tucked in... He feels every bit of pressure as the fingers dip below the waistband, sliding deeper and deeper and the shirt's suddenly, almost violently pulled free, and the fingers are playing around underneath, weaving circles through Kurt's fur, bringing to mind dark nights and bright costumes dancing feverishly around the gypsy camp's bonfire and oh, Todd smells like smoke. Smoke and sweat and an earthy, swampy smell that isn't nearly as unpleasant as it should be. Kurt has an instant to drink it in, burning the scent into his memory, before Todd breaks the kiss to all but rip Kurt's shirt over his head.
Blinking in surprise, Kurt almost forgets to protest the loss of contact with a suitable whine. Cold air blasts his skin, dampened by his fur, but the shudder that courses through his body suddenly has nothing to do with it. He wants to run, to cling desperately to the other boy, needs to be warm, and the predatory taint he's imagining in the boy's gaze as it roams his body is more than he'd been prepared to deal with.
Finally looking Kurt in the eye, Todd smirked, then reached forward and with a simple motion Kurt is exposed, his blue fur visibly rippling in the wind. There's a moment of fear, even deeper and more primal than before. But being found in his fuzzy natural state probably wouldn't be much worse than being found half-naked under the bleachers with his (very male) enemy, he reasons, skewed logic at best but it's all his overheated brain can come up with and besides, Todd's not giving him a choice. He attacks Kurt's lips again, this time allowing his hands to curl around Kurt's back, down Kurt's spine, under his...
A moan bubbles up from Kurt's throat, choked off by those soft lips, as the gentle pressure of the roaming fingers dips below the waist of his pants to tickle playfully around the base of his exceptionally sensitive tail and dear God don't stop, don't ever stop. He closes his eyes and lets his fingers roam on their own; they choose to scrabble at the boy's shirts, crawling under the hem and ripping both garments off in the exact move Todd had used minutes earlier. The contact is only broken a few moments, this time, and Kurt dives back into Todd's kiss, just in time to muffle his cry as Todd's fingers sneak below his tail, creeping into the cleft between his cheeks, further and further and Kurt could swear his eyes rolled back into his head for a split-second. More wordless whimpering escapes him, and he pulls away to stare Todd in the eye, panting and sweating and already feeling he's burning alive.
"Please," Kurt begs, not entirely sure he knows what he's asking for but oh-so-ready to find out. And apparently it's the right thing to do, because as desperate as their movements were before, they're even less inhibited now. Traveling mouths, traveling hands, somewhere along the way two pairs of pants end up bunched around two pairs of knees. And always Todd directs, leading him with a knowledge Kurt can only assume comes from experience...
...a lot of experience.
As far gone as Kurt is, his first reaction when Todd spits a measure of his usual goo on his own hand is still to balk. And it shows on his face, because Todd rolls his eyes and gives a strange little snort of derision. "It's all good, fool. This ain't the sticky stuff, and it's all organic and shit. It's good for this kinda thing," a devilish grin crosses his face, matching the mischievous look in his eye, "...believe me, yo. It works -real- good. So grow up, shut up, and deal."
The mischief gives way to something darker, something sadistic that knots Kurt's stomach and makes his cock twitch. "Or don't you want this, dawg?"
And he wants it. Oh Gott, does he want it. He nods, swallowing hard, and it's all he can do to stay still as Todd's fingers envelop him, spreading the warm semi-liquid over his molten skin, heat for heat and he can't wait any longer. When Todd turns, bending over to rest on hands and knees on the soft grass, Kurt practically pounces on him. Arms encircle a too-thin waist, fingernails dig greedily into hot flesh, and Todd leans into it, presses back and suddenly Kurt's inside him, pushing into such tightness and heat he loses himself for a few instants, feels like he's floating and the only sensation in the world is that desperately beautiful contact. He doesn't realize he's frozen until Todd's pushing even harder, forcing Kurt deeper while Todd's every muscle tenses like wire. Then it's gone for one horrifying second, then back again. Kurt snaps to his senses enough to move with the strokes, forward, back, forward, back, heat and ice, in and out - the pace rises so quickly and it's still not fast enough.
But it's getting there. So close, with the friction and the heat and the sharp, feral sounds they're both making. Somehow Kurt's tail moves, curling around Todd's waist to grasp his shaft; it picks out a pattern all its own, stroking and teasing and caressing with the pace their bodies have already set, and Todd's moaning is the welcome reward. Kurt has enough sense of himself to enjoy them, those delicate, desperate sounds, before the wave takes him with a final clenching of the muscle that surrounds him, and the world explodes.
Todd dresses after, quickly and with simple, elegant movements that fascinate Kurt as he watches from the grass, where he sits with his pants pulled up but still unzipped, his shirt forgotten in his hand and his jacket lying who-knows-where. A leisurely, fuzzed smile has become a seemingly permanent fixture on Kurt's face, so much so that it takes a few moments to falter when Todd turns and starts walking away.
The boy turns back; Kurt sees his face for the first time in what feels like ages, or maybe it's the first time ever because Kurt couldn't have been paying attention before if the boy's face seems so new now. It's calm, satisfied, but there's a request in his amber eyes that Kurt couldn't deny, that dried his veins and hollowed his heart and scraped his throat from the inside. And Kurt bows his head, closes his eyes, and turns away. He hears Todd's voice, in a tone he never hopes to hear again, "See ya', Fuzzy." And he's left on the grass, below the bleachers, the sun battering his chilling shoulders, while chocolate lingers on his lips and painful memory dries slowly in his matted fur.
Lyrics to Sunshine and Chocolate are here.