You're pretty damn smart in my opinion. Smartest guy I've ever met.
[That gets a delighted snort.] Nah, babe, I'm not gonna leave you for Satan. I'd be down to have a threesome with the guy, but you definitely win over Satan.
[Corry grins against Kyle's neck, letting his teeth scrape over where he'd been kissing. Hickey time.] I think that's the point of peacocks. To be sexy. Bird-sexy. They're trying to get down with all the hot...peacock ladies. Pealadies.
Mmm. I'm pretty picky with my threesomes, in case you hadn't noticed.
[The movie is forgotten under the assault of lips and teeth. Kyle makes a soft, pleased whining noise, pressing back into Corry. But then he starts laughing, because:]
Pealadies?! Oh my god, Corry,I take back everything I said about how charming you are. You fucking dipshit. Pealadies.
I did, yes. Very high standards. One of my favorite parts about you.
[Corry makes an indignant sound, pulling Kyle backwards into his lap and biting at where his neck and shoulder meet.] That's what they're called! When they're peacocks, but girls! Everyone knows that!
[How dare you mock him, Kyle, he's going to enact revenge by...sliding his hands up to poke at Kyle's sides, creeping under his clothes.]
Very. I need to life the people involved. So don't go thinking I'm up for nailing any rando you find. [He looks smug.] You guys are mine now, you know.
[Kyle cackles.] Bullshit! They're probably just called hens!
[Kyle shrieks and cackles more, wriggling.] Oh my god, no! Stop! Mercy!
Oh really? [Corry actually looks sort of pleased at the idea, grinning wolfishly.] Should we start calling you "Sir"?
That's dumb! Why would they be called hens?! That's what chickens are called! [This is all said amidst more tickling, Corry’s fingers dancing up and down Kyle's sides, his stomach. Then he stops abruptly, flipping Kyle over to straddle his lap, making it easier to lean up and kiss him.]
Really. [Kyle sounds incredibly smug.] One of you already does. You can start, if you want.
Because they're birds! [Cackling, Kyle is left momentarily breathless when Corry flips him. Corry is strong, something that never ceases to delight him. He kisses back through his hiccuping laughter, hands going to cradle Corry's face. He pulls back slowly, smiling.]
We're so googling what female peacocks are called.
[But he leans back in to kiss Corry again, over and over. He can feel himself already getting hard and he mentally bemoans just how easily Corry can turn him on.]
You're birds! [That makes no sense, but Corry is too distracted by having a cackling, kissing, turned-on lap full of Kyle to care. He leans up eagerly into each kiss, biting softly at Kyle's lower lip, hands sliding up his back beneath his shirt.]
S'that really what you wanna do right now? Peacock research?
[It's difficult to sound annoyed when your body is completely betraying you. Kyle sighs and tilts his hips back, pressing his ass more firmly into Corry's hand. His fingers slip under the hem of Corry's shirt, tracing the hard lines of muscle there.]
You’re supposed to be happy on your wedding day, aren’t you? Or at the very least nervous. But as Kurt examines themself in the mirror comprising one wall of their woefully empty bridal suite, they don’t feel much of anything. Only a vague sense of apprehension, a quietly grim acceptance of how their life will be different in about three hours’ time.
Not that anything is going to change, really. Greg gets to call them his “husband” instead of his “fiancé” from now on. They’ll wear a gold ring in place of their silver one. And that’s about it.
Kurt sighs softly, aimlessly adjusting their tie for the fifth time, smoothing their suit down over their chest. At least Greg agreed to let them wear all white today. They may have put all their dresses and skirts and makeup and frilly lingerie away for the more conservatively masculine look Greg prefers, but some things are too important to give up. Their hair is still long, arranged in a simple updo pulled so tight it’ll give them a migraine, their nails are painted in an elegant French tip design, and they get to wear white on their wedding day. Little compromises. That’s what marriage is, right?
The sudden knock at the door brings them back down to earth. Weird. They don’t remember ordering room service. Maybe that comes standard for bridal suites in fancy hotels like this, even for guests without a bridal party. Tearing themself away from the resigned young man in the mirror, Kurt trudges over to the door and gently pulls it open.
For a moment that feels like it lasts forever, they’re too stunned to speak. His name escapes them in a wheeze:] Corrigan..?
[Corry says it in a drawl, happily squeezing at Kyle's ass, tilting his head back to offer more unmarked neck to kiss. The question gets a thoughtful hum.]
[Saying that Corrigan had dreamed of this day would be a lie -- he'd never been one for traditional things like weddings or marriage, after all, not even for tax purposes. But perhaps he'd imagined a more raunchy, R-rated version of things -- some type of commitment, collaring ceremony, culminating in a semi-public display of him bending Kurt over the altar and fucking them senseless.
In said daydream, they'd be wearing lace and satin, clinging fabric that exposed much more than it covered up, lingerie and garters meant to tease and excite, rather than clothe. All in white, of course, in keeping with the blasphemous spirit of the day. Something that could've happened if he hadn't fucked things up.
Corry doesn't say it ended badly, because to him it didn't end. Kurt had screamed at him, kicked him out, told him to never come back, never speak to them again, and for years he'd honored that -- in theory. They'd never been fully out of his watchful gaze, though, his influence insuring they got the best apartment and car and amenities, that they slept peacefully without being harassed or preyed on. They wouldn't be his, but Corrigan would be damned if they weren't safe.
Greg had been a bit of a surprise -- clean enough background, no major skeletons in his closet, decent job, secure and stable. Boring as fuck, but if that's what Kurt wanted, then fine. Corrigan had held back and bit his tongue, resolving to let them live their life alone, in peace.
Until he caught wind they were going to marry the guy. Then no amount of promises or old threats could keep him away. Kurt was a flame Corrigan had never, could never extinguish, and he wasn't about to let them ruin their life with the human equivalent of cardboard.
Now, leaning against the doorway, the years only showing in the slight grey at his temples, Corrigan flashes that same old grin.] Hello to you too, baby.
[They can barely hear him speak over the pounding of their own heart, every shaky breath they take deafening. While they haven’t actually seen Corrigan in years, he’s been a constant presence in their dreams both waking and not ever since that last day, haunting them when they closed their eyes.
They’d thought being with someone as square and clean-cut as Greg would finally rid them of his influence. But as he flashes them that same old grin, when he calls them baby like no time has passed, Kurt feels their knees buckling. The heated stab of wanting in their gut is fucking pavlovian.]
Wh-What are you doing here? You… [Trembling, mouth dry, Kurt stands ramrod still for a moment, not knowing what to do. Then, seemingly snapping back to their senses, they start moving to close the door in his face.] Y-You shouldn’t be here, you need to leave—
[Perhaps it's fucked up of him -- no, scratch that, it's definitely fucked up -- but Corrigan has always loved making Kurt off-balance. He loves surprising them, shocking them, taking that prim, haughty attitude of theirs and reducing them to a needy, whiny mess. He knows damn well that they love the thrill of fear and excitement, as inextricably entwined as the pain and pleasure he always gives them.
So when they move to close the door, Corrigan easily stops it with a hand, leveraging his height and weight against theirs. The smug grin is still on his face as he pushes his way into the hotel room, reaches out and grabs that dumb, drab tie to yank Kurt closer.]
Now, I know it's been a while, princess, but I think I can still tell when you're not being honest with me. [Corrigan kicks the door closed behind him, free hand sliding to Kurt's back, pushing them even closer against his chest.] You don't really want me to leave.
[This should scare the life out of them. A man much bigger than they are is forcing his way into their hotel room on their wedding day. A man from their past, a man whom they parted with on bad terms, is putting his hands on them, grasping their tie and yanking them close, kicking the door closed behind him. This should absolutely terrify them.
It doesn’t. And perhaps that’s most terrifying of all. Corrigan forces them tightly against his chest, and Kurt feels their suit pants getting tight.]
Y-You piece of shit— Let go of me! [They struggle against him, of course, hands finding his chest and pushing… but it’s not a wholehearted effort. And they know Corrigan can tell. Even this many years removed, they still blush bright red, writhing weakly against him, completely unable to resist.] What th-the fuck do you think you’re doing?!
[It's like lighting a fuse. Corrigan remembers how ferocious Kurt can get, how they'll scratch and bite and yell and fight him. How they mean absolutely none of it, not a single word. It had been one of the most thrilling things about being with them, toying with that anger, letting himself feel how bright it burned, they taking full control of Kurt anyway.
And the fact is, if Kurt were to genuinely put a stop to it, call out the safeword, their word, Corrigan would honor it. He'd let go. He'd leave. But he knows damn well they won't, because they're already reacting to his touch, his closeness, his scent. Their body knows him, and it won't let them send him away.
He laughs at the cursing, easily turning the two of them around so Kurt is between him and the door, pinned in place, their stupid stuffy suit already creasing.] There we go, there's your spice. [One big hand slides up into their prim updo, tangling in their hair, tugging strands of it loose.] I knew that stuffy fucker didn't clip your claws entirely.
[That’s the most fucked up part, isn’t it? Kurt instinctively remembers how to act, what to say, where to scratch and shove and claw to keep the fantasy believable. They immediately recall their safeword, right there in their tongue, and they know without a shadow of a doubt that as soon as it’s uttered, Corrigan will turn and leave without another word.
But they both know, deep down, that’s not going to happen.]
I swear to God, I’ll scream so f-fucking loud— [Kurt gasps sharply as they’re pinned against the door, arching against Corrigan’s body without meaning to, shivering as they remember the delicious sting of being pushed and shoved and put in their place by his unforgiving hands. Greg isn’t one for pain or bondage or power play. The kinkiest thing they’ve done since leaving Corrigan is reverse cowgirl. They’ve missed this.
Of course, they can’t admit that. They hiss and snarl and bluster at Corrigan’s touch, even as they shiver from his fingers carding through their hair, his muscled thigh pressing between their legs, letting them rock against him as their eyes burn with frustrated tears.] Sh-Shut up. You don’t know anything about him, he’s— he’s n-not stuffy...
Yeah, you will. [Corrigan almost moans it as he tears more of Kurt's hair free of the restrictive updo, fists his hand in it and yanks their head back, mouth hot against their throat.] I always could make you scream, baby...
[The protest has him pulling back slightly, eyebrow arched, thigh pressing harder between Kurt's legs. There aren't enough layers of fabric to hide that they're turned on, that their body reacted immediately to his familiar touch. But the defense of their fiance has some of the smugness evaporating.] I don't need to know him to see what he's done to you. How he's made you change for him, keep yourself tame and controlled and small.
[Another searing press of his lips against where Kurt's pulse beat wildly, and Corrigan straightens up, meeting their eyes with his dark, intense ones.] Nobody in the world knows you like I do, Kurt. I can see you stifling yourself to keep him happy. And it makes me want to fucking kill him.
[How dare anyone imply otherwise! He reluctantly gets off of Corry's lap, stumbling a little, and backs up toward his bed. He tugs his clothes off as he does so - the pants are a little awkward to wiggle out of - and winds up sitting on his bed nude. He looks at Corry with interest.]
[Corry watches in amusement, also rising and stripping down to his boxer briefs, which do little to hide how hard he is.] What kind of rope? I brought nylon.
[Does he carry rope around in his briefcase. What the fuck.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2022-11-06 03:43 am (UTC)[That gets a delighted snort.] Nah, babe, I'm not gonna leave you for Satan. I'd be down to have a threesome with the guy, but you definitely win over Satan.
[Corry grins against Kyle's neck, letting his teeth scrape over where he'd been kissing. Hickey time.] I think that's the point of peacocks. To be sexy. Bird-sexy. They're trying to get down with all the hot...peacock ladies. Pealadies.
no subject
Date: 2022-11-06 08:12 am (UTC)Mmm. I'm pretty picky with my threesomes, in case you hadn't noticed.
[The movie is forgotten under the assault of lips and teeth. Kyle makes a soft, pleased whining noise, pressing back into Corry. But then he starts laughing, because:]
Pealadies?! Oh my god, Corry,I take back everything I said about how charming you are. You fucking dipshit. Pealadies.
no subject
Date: 2022-11-06 11:45 pm (UTC)[Corry makes an indignant sound, pulling Kyle backwards into his lap and biting at where his neck and shoulder meet.] That's what they're called! When they're peacocks, but girls! Everyone knows that!
[How dare you mock him, Kyle, he's going to enact revenge by...sliding his hands up to poke at Kyle's sides, creeping under his clothes.]
no subject
Date: 2022-11-07 04:18 am (UTC)[Kyle cackles.] Bullshit! They're probably just called hens!
[Kyle shrieks and cackles more, wriggling.] Oh my god, no! Stop! Mercy!
no subject
Date: 2022-11-07 08:17 am (UTC)That's dumb! Why would they be called hens?! That's what chickens are called! [This is all said amidst more tickling, Corry’s fingers dancing up and down Kyle's sides, his stomach. Then he stops abruptly, flipping Kyle over to straddle his lap, making it easier to lean up and kiss him.]
no subject
Date: 2022-11-07 01:00 pm (UTC)Because they're birds! [Cackling, Kyle is left momentarily breathless when Corry flips him. Corry is strong, something that never ceases to delight him. He kisses back through his hiccuping laughter, hands going to cradle Corry's face. He pulls back slowly, smiling.]
We're so googling what female peacocks are called.
[But he leans back in to kiss Corry again, over and over. He can feel himself already getting hard and he mentally bemoans just how easily Corry can turn him on.]
no subject
Date: 2022-11-10 03:18 am (UTC)S'that really what you wanna do right now? Peacock research?
no subject
Date: 2022-11-10 04:53 am (UTC)[He nuzzles into Corry's neck and nips sharply at the skin there.]
We're supposed to be watching a movie, you know. I'm thinking your interest is not being held.
no subject
Date: 2022-11-10 06:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-11-10 06:46 am (UTC)[It's difficult to sound annoyed when your body is completely betraying you. Kyle sighs and tilts his hips back, pressing his ass more firmly into Corry's hand. His fingers slip under the hem of Corry's shirt, tracing the hard lines of muscle there.]
So. What do you want?
cw: CNC
Date: 2022-11-10 04:51 pm (UTC)You’re supposed to be happy on your wedding day, aren’t you? Or at the very least nervous. But as Kurt examines themself in the mirror comprising one wall of their woefully empty bridal suite, they don’t feel much of anything. Only a vague sense of apprehension, a quietly grim acceptance of how their life will be different in about three hours’ time.
Not that anything is going to change, really. Greg gets to call them his “husband” instead of his “fiancé” from now on. They’ll wear a gold ring in place of their silver one. And that’s about it.
Kurt sighs softly, aimlessly adjusting their tie for the fifth time, smoothing their suit down over their chest. At least Greg agreed to let them wear all white today. They may have put all their dresses and skirts and makeup and frilly lingerie away for the more conservatively masculine look Greg prefers, but some things are too important to give up. Their hair is still long, arranged in a simple updo pulled so tight it’ll give them a migraine, their nails are painted in an elegant French tip design, and they get to wear white on their wedding day. Little compromises. That’s what marriage is, right?
The sudden knock at the door brings them back down to earth. Weird. They don’t remember ordering room service. Maybe that comes standard for bridal suites in fancy hotels like this, even for guests without a bridal party. Tearing themself away from the resigned young man in the mirror, Kurt trudges over to the door and gently pulls it open.
For a moment that feels like it lasts forever, they’re too stunned to speak. His name escapes them in a wheeze:] Corrigan..?
no subject
Date: 2022-11-11 03:35 am (UTC)[Corry says it in a drawl, happily squeezing at Kyle's ass, tilting his head back to offer more unmarked neck to kiss. The question gets a thoughtful hum.]
Mmm, kinda wanna try something new. Something we've talked about.
no subject
Date: 2022-11-11 03:41 am (UTC)Oh? [Already breathless.]
no subject
Date: 2022-11-11 03:46 am (UTC)In said daydream, they'd be wearing lace and satin, clinging fabric that exposed much more than it covered up, lingerie and garters meant to tease and excite, rather than clothe. All in white, of course, in keeping with the blasphemous spirit of the day. Something that could've happened if he hadn't fucked things up.
Corry doesn't say it ended badly, because to him it didn't end. Kurt had screamed at him, kicked him out, told him to never come back, never speak to them again, and for years he'd honored that -- in theory. They'd never been fully out of his watchful gaze, though, his influence insuring they got the best apartment and car and amenities, that they slept peacefully without being harassed or preyed on. They wouldn't be his, but Corrigan would be damned if they weren't safe.
Greg had been a bit of a surprise -- clean enough background, no major skeletons in his closet, decent job, secure and stable. Boring as fuck, but if that's what Kurt wanted, then fine. Corrigan had held back and bit his tongue, resolving to let them live their life alone, in peace.
Until he caught wind they were going to marry the guy. Then no amount of promises or old threats could keep him away. Kurt was a flame Corrigan had never, could never extinguish, and he wasn't about to let them ruin their life with the human equivalent of cardboard.
Now, leaning against the doorway, the years only showing in the slight grey at his temples, Corrigan flashes that same old grin.] Hello to you too, baby.
no subject
Date: 2022-11-11 05:37 am (UTC)They’d thought being with someone as square and clean-cut as Greg would finally rid them of his influence. But as he flashes them that same old grin, when he calls them baby like no time has passed, Kurt feels their knees buckling. The heated stab of wanting in their gut is fucking pavlovian.]
Wh-What are you doing here? You… [Trembling, mouth dry, Kurt stands ramrod still for a moment, not knowing what to do. Then, seemingly snapping back to their senses, they start moving to close the door in his face.] Y-You shouldn’t be here, you need to leave—
no subject
Date: 2022-11-11 02:32 pm (UTC)So when they move to close the door, Corrigan easily stops it with a hand, leveraging his height and weight against theirs. The smug grin is still on his face as he pushes his way into the hotel room, reaches out and grabs that dumb, drab tie to yank Kurt closer.]
Now, I know it's been a while, princess, but I think I can still tell when you're not being honest with me. [Corrigan kicks the door closed behind him, free hand sliding to Kurt's back, pushing them even closer against his chest.] You don't really want me to leave.
no subject
Date: 2022-11-11 04:50 pm (UTC)It doesn’t. And perhaps that’s most terrifying of all. Corrigan forces them tightly against his chest, and Kurt feels their suit pants getting tight.]
Y-You piece of shit— Let go of me! [They struggle against him, of course, hands finding his chest and pushing… but it’s not a wholehearted effort. And they know Corrigan can tell. Even this many years removed, they still blush bright red, writhing weakly against him, completely unable to resist.] What th-the fuck do you think you’re doing?!
no subject
Date: 2022-11-11 08:03 pm (UTC)And the fact is, if Kurt were to genuinely put a stop to it, call out the safeword, their word, Corrigan would honor it. He'd let go. He'd leave. But he knows damn well they won't, because they're already reacting to his touch, his closeness, his scent. Their body knows him, and it won't let them send him away.
He laughs at the cursing, easily turning the two of them around so Kurt is between him and the door, pinned in place, their stupid stuffy suit already creasing.] There we go, there's your spice. [One big hand slides up into their prim updo, tangling in their hair, tugging strands of it loose.] I knew that stuffy fucker didn't clip your claws entirely.
no subject
Date: 2022-11-11 08:45 pm (UTC)But they both know, deep down, that’s not going to happen.]
I swear to God, I’ll scream so f-fucking loud— [Kurt gasps sharply as they’re pinned against the door, arching against Corrigan’s body without meaning to, shivering as they remember the delicious sting of being pushed and shoved and put in their place by his unforgiving hands. Greg isn’t one for pain or bondage or power play. The kinkiest thing they’ve done since leaving Corrigan is reverse cowgirl. They’ve missed this.
Of course, they can’t admit that. They hiss and snarl and bluster at Corrigan’s touch, even as they shiver from his fingers carding through their hair, his muscled thigh pressing between their legs, letting them rock against him as their eyes burn with frustrated tears.] Sh-Shut up. You don’t know anything about him, he’s— he’s n-not stuffy...
no subject
Date: 2022-11-12 12:44 am (UTC)[The protest has him pulling back slightly, eyebrow arched, thigh pressing harder between Kurt's legs. There aren't enough layers of fabric to hide that they're turned on, that their body reacted immediately to his familiar touch. But the defense of their fiance has some of the smugness evaporating.] I don't need to know him to see what he's done to you. How he's made you change for him, keep yourself tame and controlled and small.
[Another searing press of his lips against where Kurt's pulse beat wildly, and Corrigan straightens up, meeting their eyes with his dark, intense ones.] Nobody in the world knows you like I do, Kurt. I can see you stifling yourself to keep him happy. And it makes me want to fucking kill him.
no subject
Date: 2022-11-12 12:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-11-12 02:01 am (UTC)...yeah. Okay. Now?
no subject
Date: 2022-11-12 02:45 am (UTC)Yeah, gorgeous, now. You ready for that?
no subject
Date: 2022-11-12 03:03 am (UTC)[How dare anyone imply otherwise! He reluctantly gets off of Corry's lap, stumbling a little, and backs up toward his bed. He tugs his clothes off as he does so - the pants are a little awkward to wiggle out of - and winds up sitting on his bed nude. He looks at Corry with interest.]
I have, uhm. Rope. Or leather cuffs.
no subject
Date: 2022-11-12 03:26 am (UTC)[Does he carry rope around in his briefcase. What the fuck.]