kurtbastian SNK au where they meet in training (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧
Sebastian tugs at the sleeve of his jacket, squinting against the glare of the sun and trying to casually glancing around at the other graduates milling around the courtyard in search of a familiar head of coiffed brown hair.
Sebastian turns at the voice, face splitting into a grin at the sight of Kurt standing behind him, arms crossed over his chest and eyebrow quirked.
"Top of the class," Kurt says with a long-suffering sigh. "Surprise, surprise."
bottom!Kurt starkurt for Julia’s birthday owo
It was just supposed to be a duet, something to help Kurt get into the stage presence that Elliott was able to so effortlessly adopt when he became Starchild. He wants to blame on the song choice—who chooses a song about touching and kissing to sing with a friend anyway—or the fact that they were both on a performance high that bled into reality once it was over, or that Elliott looks unfairly good in all black with dark liner around his eyes.
Whatever the reason, he’s ended up in Elliott’s apartment. In Elliott’s bed. With Elliott’s lips and hands working him into a groaning, pleading mess and he hasn’t even taken his shirt off yet.
Kurt and Elliott are strippers at the same club who hook up outside of work (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧
warnings for blowjobs
The door has barely closed heavily behind Elliott before Kurt’s backing him up against the cool brick wall of the alley, hands sliding down his chest to tease along the waistband of his jeans.
"Spending all night taking my clothes off," Kurt mutters. He smirks and pops open the button on Elliott’s jeans, his other hand shaping around the other man’s cock, feeling it harden under his fingers. "It’s nice to take someone else’s off for once."
kelliottbastian because why not
idk this turned out waaay longer than I was expecting before even getting to any sex sooo maybe a sequel with said sex? idk I may have to write something with pole-dancing now lol
The bar is still relatively crowded when Kurt makes his way out from the bathroom, the majority of his stage makeup wiped clean, though there is still some dark makeup smudged around his eyes. He hitches his bag higher on his shoulder as he walks towards the bar, checking his phone and groaning internally when he sees it’s already past midnight. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to work until tomorrow afternoon but he’s starting to feel the wear of trying to do so many things at once,
Rachel has already left, having rehearsal the following morning, though Santana and Dani are still dancing together near the stage, lost in their own little world and leaning against each other as they sway on the spot.
His eyes find Elliott at the bar, smiling when he waves him over.
"Saved you a seat," Elliott says, nodding to the spot next to him. He slides a drink across the bartop to Kurt as he sinks into his seat with a heavy sigh.
Elliott brings a little something extra to band practice and Kurt, still on his streak of wanting to let loose and try new things, is eager to try it
Warnings: drug use, shotgunning, infidelity, frottage
They’ve long since finished rehearsal, the band already having packed up their instruments and bid goodnight while the rest of them lounge around on the couch picking at the leftover pizza sitting on the coffee table, when Elliott sits up from his position on the futon and looks around at them with a vaguely scheming look.
"So," he says, eyes sweeping from Kurt where he’s curled up on the armchair, over Rachel and Santana, to Dani, who’s got her feet propped up on the arm of the couch and her head in Santana’s lap. "How many of you… partake?"
some more starkurt/kelliott uwu
The first thing Kurt realizes as he slips into the crowded apartment—doublechecking the number on the door to be sure he’s in the right one—is that he’s on very unfamiliar ground. When Elliott had invited him to a party his roommate was throwing for the end of the semester, he’d been—foolishly he now realizes—expecting something like one of the few NYADA parties he’d attended with Adam when they were dating, where people burst into spontaneous song and argued who’d made the better Elphaba.
It’s nothing like that.
It’s loud and hot with how jam-packed it is with people, all of whom are clutching either red plastic cups or bottles of beer. There’s music coming from one of the rooms though he can’t see the source. He catches sight of a beer pong table shoved in the corner as he weaves his way in passed the entry, craning his neck to try and spot Elliott and already starting to regret his decision to come.
ofc I was gonna write kelliott after that flirting in the diner
"I was thinking we could do Into The Groove. Dani said she could learn the parts no problem.”
Kurt stops scanning the book of sheet music he’s leafing through to glance up at Elliott, who’s giving him a questioning look as he holds up the pages of Into The Groove for Kurt to see.
"Oh," Kurt says slowly, considering. "Um, yeah, it’s a good song."
"You don’t like it?" Elliott says, lifting an eyebrow in disbelief.
"No, no, I like it," Kurt says evasively. "It’s just… it’s… it’s kind of sexual, don’t you think?"
Sam works as the gardener for Senator Hummel and his family
"Well I can see why you’ve been cancelling so may of our mall dates."
Kurt closing the magazine he’s only been half paying attention to to lift an eyebrow at Rachel as she steps into his bedroom without so much as a knock, tossing her long hair and pursing her lips in irritation.
"Hmm?" he says and sets his magazine aside to watch Rachel slip her bag off her shoulder to set on the floor.
She walks over to where Kurt is sitting on the day bed set in the large bay window overlooking the pool and back garden, pulling aside the sheer curtains to look out into the back yard, eyes narrowed.
"Your new gardener," she says, eyes seeking out where Sam is snipping at the hedges with a pair of garden shears.
There are thick, white beams of sunlight lancing through the windows, casting faint shadows on the walls behind Kurt as he moves around the kitchen, humming quietly along with the radio in the next room. He dumps a cup of flour into a bowl, wiping powder from his hands on his aprons before leaning back to pluck two eggs from the carton on the island.
He cracks the eggs carefully into a second bowl with the sugar and butter he’s already beaten together. Tossing the shells into the trash behind him, he shimmies his hips a little in time with the music as he turns on the mixer to stir the eggs in.
”It’d be better if you were naked under that apron but this is still a nice thing to come home to.”