Page 180 of Hurt

Kurt huffed a little, nose twitching. “You don’t have to ask.”

Grant smiled, thumb trailing along the ridge of Kurt’s nose. “Yes, I do.” He bent low, folding himself in half to press a kiss against Kurt’s hairline.

“I will always ask, and you can always tell me no,” he murmured against the violet strands. “I never want to take anything from you, Wanyin.”

Kurt exhaled sharply and Grant shifted to kiss his lips. A quick press. Their first in so long. It felt like the strength in Grant’s body fled, helpless against that peck that was hardly a kiss at all. Kurt breathed against Grant and it was enough.

The cabin was dark when he took the stairs up to the loft. His bare feet scuffed against the wood, heels dragging as he slowly ascended. He didn’t need to turn on a light. He knew his way by now.

Right arm out, he trailed his fingers along the banister to balance. To ground him. His clothes and hair were damp from the summer storm. Thunder rumbled in the distance and lightning flashed, too far away to be of concern. Rain pattered on the roof, a staccato soundtrack to the evening that covered the sounds of his footsteps. The scent of a warm summer evening clung to him—a mixture of damp earth and ozone, a nostalgic kind of smell that guided his thoughts to happier nights. Evenings spent hunting constellations in the everchanging sky and catching fireflies in jars just to release them a few minutes later because he felt bad for trapping them.

He crested the stairs and stared at the bed. Grant was sleeping, nestled under a thin quilt. The mattress was pressed up under the large window. Grant slept in a pool of mottled moonlight. The shadows racing down the glass splashed onto his face, small little dots that faded and appeared on his skin.

Kurt stepped forward. Heedless of his damp clothes or hair, he crawled onto the mattress and straddled Grant. The mattress dipping was enough to wake Grant. He inhaled sharply, and his hand reached for the blade he kept beside the bed before he recognized Kurt in the watery moonlight.

“Kurt?” he asked sleepily, blinking up from where his head was cradled on the pillow. “You’re wet.”

Even in the dark, his eyes were soft. Not irritated that Kurt had woken him or got his bed wet. His first—and only—concern was Kurt.

He bent and kissed Grant. The man’s lips parted in surprise and his breath hitched. His entire body froze as Kurt locked lips with him, hands reaching up to cup his beautiful face. He wasn’t satisfied with the kiss, and he licked up into Grant’s mouth, tongue swiping against his upper lip. He tasted like mint and sleep.

Kurt broke the kiss and rested his forehead on Grants.

“It’s done,” he breathed.

Grant blinked up at him, his eyes wide. “Th…the house?”

Kurt nodded. “It’s done…I finished it. I’m sorry to wake you but I…it’s done,” he rambled a little.

He sat up, pushing Kurt onto his thighs so he could push the wet hair from his face. “Shh, hey. I don’t mind. I never mind.”

Kurt let his forehead rest on Grants. His skin was warm from sleep, bare-chested because Grant liked to sleep in just a pair of pants when Kurt wasn’t around.

He did a lot of things for Kurt. Sometimes, there would moments of domestic normalcy that would be too much for Kurt. He would be in the kitchen with Grant and he would suddenly feel too big for his skin. Everything would be wrong, and he didn’t know what to do. In those moments, Grant would bring him back. He would ask for something innocuous, like if Kurt could turn on the air conditioner or pass him something. That deep rumbling voice that should send shivers of fear down his spine would guide Kurt home. Deflate his building panic and give him space to breathe.

He kissed him again. Shifting his nose to the side to get a better angle. Kurt had never kissed anyone before. Grant was his only, pathetic little closed lipped pecks that didn’t count. But he wanted to kiss him now. Kiss him hard enough that he could feel his breath in the back of his throat. Grant shifted under him, the strength in his body writhing between Kurt’s legs and it sent heat straight to his lower belly.

“Want,” Kurt mumbled between their messy kisses. His hands carded through Grant’s silky hair, loving catch and pull as the strands caught on his callouses and cuts.

Grant snorted and groaned, the tether of his self-control straining under Kurt’s inexperienced kisses. There was heat and the blankets piled between them were the only thing keeping Grant’s erection from pressing against Kurt.

“Love, wait.” Grant pulled away and stroked Kurt’s cheeks. Thumbs shaking with excitement. “This is very fast. Are you…You don’t have to do this.”

Kurt licked his lips. They were wet and tingling.

“Please don’t push me away, Grant,” Kurt begged softly, his eyes bright and earnest. “I want this.”

He had rebuilt himself just like he rebuilt that house, and he wanted Grant to touch him. To put his hands all over the new foundations Kurt had erected, put so much of himself into them that there was no room for the bitter memories of touches he didn’t want.

Grant stroked his cheeks, fingers lingering on his skin as he scanned his face. He reached back and tugged Kurt’s hair out of its bun. Tangled strands fell around his shoulders and Grant pressed a kiss to his jaw.

“Okay,” he answered softly.

Embracing Kurt, he flipped them over so that half his body was on top of him. A warm weight that was somehow comforting while it was alluring. Grant kissed him.

“You need to tell me if you want to stop.”

Kurt made a non-committal noise, his eyes scanning down the length of Grant’s torso. The moon was casting all kinds of shadows against it. He had seen Grant bare-chested before, but this time it was different. This time when he looked, it made him feel…excited. A thrum of trepidation mixed with anticipation that drove him crazy. It made his skin crawl and his mind hazy.