Rivals were meant to have one of them on their knees, mouth (shut for once) working delicious on your most sensitive place, bringing pleasure that made your walls crumble and your hands comb through their hair, moans bouncing off the foam soundproofing of the recording studio walls.

Yet here you were, hips pinned to a chair, long and slender fingers wrapped around your flesh, as lips messily sucked on your clit like there was no tomorrow.

You're bands were enemies, for God's sake!! Your drummer... was good friends with his. But your bassist! Oh they... liked to have practice sessions with his. Well at least your guitarist... has filled in as rhythm in his band on a couple occasions.

Okay so technically the rivalry was really between the two of you, constantly butting heads and making passing snide remarks at one another whenever you ran into each other, and in a small town lime Olympia it was unavoidable. With a scene as close as the one you were in was, it was like every corner you turned, there was your rival, peering at you with big blue eyes and a tight grip around his plastic cup of whatever the fuck.

How you got here is a mystery to everyone... including the two of you. What once seemed like a potentially beautiful partnership could bloom between two musically talented individuals soured within a split second of meeting, the two of you held back by your respective bassists before you pulled one another's hair out. From there forward, it was like you were sworn to a blood pact that stated the two of you were bound to be enemies, getting into arguments both on and off stage, barely able to hang around one another in casual settings before dissolving into remarks and shoulder checks, never to be alone.

You were the glare-er, using your furrowed brows and hardened eyes to pierce his soul with glances that would make any normal person shift uncomfortably after 2 seconds. He, on the other hand, was the mouth-er, using his big mouth to blab on and on and on to anyone and everyone about how infuriating you were, how much he disliked you, how untalented you were, how much your singing sucked, etc.

At least he was nice enough to leave your band out of it, your band mates would say, making you scoff and roll your eyes.

"I'm sure that's hard for him to do," you spat.

They just sighed, knowing how kind he could be on a regular basis... so long as you weren't around.

The same would go for you. Dave, his drummer, loved to hang around you. The two of you would be the life of the party, making jokes that would make people roar with laughter. You were a comedic duo, no alcohol necessary to get a chuckle out of even the most stoic person on earth. So whenever you showed up to a party, he would jump up to greet you... only for all that excitement to vanquish the second he realized that his frontman got to you first by the sound of the booming argument that began just miliseconds prior.

With Krist, the two of you would talk endlessly about the world, for hours and hours... until you realized you had stayed up way too late. He loved to get philosophical and intellectual with you, one of the only people who was willing to humor him and hear him out. Whether it was over a joint and on the floor or yelling over loud music, the two of you explored the wonders of the cosmos, the politics of donuts, and just about anything... until Kurt eventually toddled over to his best friend and yanked him away with a tossed remark over his shoulder.

Thats how your dynamic was and there was no changing it, it's what kept your earth spinning and your clocks turning.

Until now.

"F-fuck, Kurt..." you hissed, fingers yanking his blonde locks enough to make him groan.

He pulled away with a loud smack of his lips, glancing up at you with a shiny chin and a wince, "That hurts..."

His pupils were so wide that his blue eyes borderline looked black in this lighting, staring at you like you hung the moon. It made you sick... it made you want more.

"You like it?" You blurted out, watching as he blinked.

A slow grin overcame his face, prompting him to glance back down to the slickness between your legs before shifting to press his mouth against you again, "...yea."

"Mmmm so not a complaint..."

"Mmm-mmm," he hummed, the vibrations of his mouth sending shockwaves through your clit, making you gasp and buck.

He whined softly as your hips jutted against him, readjusting his bruising grip on your hips to grip them tighter, if that was even possible.

"J-jesus," you croaked.

He sat back on his knees, obscenely licking the mixture of drool and your juices, fixated on the view of your cunt, soaked panties shoved to the side as your pants were left bundled around one of your ankles, "Nah... just me."

"God i hate you," you gritted, glaring at the ceiling with an arch of your back.

"Oh yea sure," he scoffed, shifting to press the two longest fingers of his playing hand against the pulsing entrance of your pussy, "Hate me so much you're letting me do this to you."

"Yea... yea yea yea," you babbled, shivering as he slowly pressed them in, letting them drag against your warm, gummy walls.

"Yea yea yea?" He mocked, the grin in his voice making you growl.

"Fuck off Cobain."

"You cannot be telling me that while I have two fingers buried in your."

"Meh, meh, meh, meh, me-auGH!?"

Lucky bastard, managed to curl his fingers at just the right angle and hit that one spot your ex hit once and spent the rest of the relationship awkwardly jabbing his fingers in search of. Thank god you were no longer dating the guy, 6 months was a considerably long time to deal with fingers borderline dissecting you open just to find the mythical spot. It didn't help that he would always go, "Almost there babe!" every 2 minutes in his stupid voice.

The thought of your ex quickly vanished when a certain smirking blonde chuckled and curled his fingers up again, quickly splaying his free hand over your lower belly, thumb grazing your neglected clit. He could tell your brain was going a mile a minute, so to dissolve those unimportant thoughts like shaking an etch-a-sketch, he rubbed figure 8's and curl-thrusted his fingers in tandem.

If your brain wasn't mush before, it certainly was now.

The combination of stimulation and the oddly soothing mumbles of whatever he was saying made you feel like you fell into a fluffy cloud of pleasure, the pain of a hardback chair in a recording studio a problem of far away lands.

"Fuck look how your gripping my fingers... really like that huh?" His voice was soft, when did it ever get that soft? You've never heard him speak that softly, didn't even think that was possible. All your conversations with Kurt consisted of either yells or angry growls, insults and fighting words exchanged like breaths of oxygen... so to hear him borderline coo at your pussy made a weird... tingle go up and back down your spine.

"Shit, you just gushed!" He laughed, perking up.

"Wha?" You slurred, barely able to prop your head up to glance at him.

"You know... i can tell you like my voice."

Now you felt it, the shocking and cruel reality coming to life around you in the form of back pain. You made a mental note to ask the studio manager to get chairs that were much more comfortable after thus.

That and a grating voice that irked your insides so deliciously.

"Less talking more-" you began, reaching a hand down to grip his hair, nose pointed to the side, only to gasp at the feel of him slapping your hand away.

"What the fuck, Kurt?!"

He just laughed, head tilted back. No echo, thanks to the sound proofing in the entire studio, so it felt very much like a cruel slap in your face. Moreso when he slid his fingers out with a wet squealch that made you shiver and wince.

"Asshole," you whined, hands reaching out toward him, only for him to push them away again, crudely shoving his wet fingers into his mouth instead.

It was a dumbfounding sight: staring at your rival, sitting on his knees in front of you, with the fingers he was fucking you with seconds ago shoved into his mouth as he sucked them clean. The sounds of his sucking, along with little pleased murmurs, were loud and clear.

He pulled them out with a pop, tilting his head to the side, "What?"

You just blinked, mouth slightly agape, "You are... so infuriating."

"Relax, I'll make you cum." He grinned, swiping his hands on his jeans as he stood up.

Your gaze went from the floor, up to where he stood, lazily staring right back with absolutely no embarrassment as his fingers worked his belt, the clanging making you unconsciously spread your legs. That didn't go unnoticed.

"You know, i wouldn't have expected you to just... be so..." he murmured, glancing off to the side.

You raised a brow, "Easy?"

"No, jesus-"

"Not Jesus, just me," you grinned, parroting his early words only to earn you a light slap on the cheek.

You huffed, smile instantly dropping. It was hardly even a pat, but you'd never let him know that. You also refused to let him know that it absolutely made you throb for a second. With a dramatic throw of your head and an eyeroll from him, you cried out, "Ow! Kurt, what's wrong with you?!"

"Yeah yeah yea," he murmured, shaking his head while digging through his jean pockets.

"God!! That really hurt you know!" You held your "injured" cheek with one hand, brows furrowed as you ranted, "So much for being a feminist, all you like to do is be just like any other man and throw a woman around! You slap her, use her, and then get rid of her! You have the whole fake 'i think women are powerful and amazing' personality that's all just a big fat phoney lie!"

Kurt didn't seem to be paying much attention to your words, groaning upon finding his pockets empty from the one item he needed. So, he opted to lean down and yank the pulley level underneath your chair, adjusting the height until he let out a satisfied hum.

"What, does it make you feel good? You feel big and bad pushing women around? Well guess what, no amount of remarks and retorts will ever make you a good enough man-" having paid no attention to what he was doing for your pseudo-angry rant, you failed to notice that the chair was now positioned to thr height of his hips, giving him the chance to hook his hands under the backs of your knees. He folded you to what felt like a pretzel pose (but was really pushing your knees to your chest as far as you could go). He then hooked one leg over his shoulder and held the other, unconsiously rubbing circles to the skin with his thumb while his now free hand yanked your thoroughly soaked panties to the side, cotton sticking to his skin.

It wasn't until you glanced down to see him yank his briefs down, cock dripping with precum, that you realized your fake angry rant was doing nothing. Your little angry rival persona? Yea that was gone. And your teasing via faux angry rants? Useless.... you two had crossed a major boundary that you could never uncross... and neither of you seemed to mind.

With a mouth watered swallow, your saucer eyes glanced up at him.

"You don't need to pull out," You found yourself whispering in a voice that sounded unlike you.

He snapped his head up, pupils large, "Are you serious?"

"Y-yea, yes uh... on birth control." You rushed out, the words jumbled. Thank god for science and the feminist movement of the beautiful 90s, bringing free women like you birth control and the joys of being screamed at outside of a women's clinic.

But it was all worth it, all the annoying paperwork and chats with nurses about side effects and the moments when some religious nut with a sign that said 'spread love, not death' called you a whore, it was worth it to feel his thick cock, flushed and achy from being denied for so long, filling you up, skin to skin.

The both of you groaned, time slowing enough for your eyes to stare right at where the two of you were slowly connecting, watching the length disappear into your most intimate place at a pace that left you both breathless and dizzy.

Above you, his eyes unfocused, mouth open in near shock at the way your warmth hugged him snugly, embracing his cock in a way that made him slur out, "This is what puzzle pieces feel like when they connect together..."

You were too busy on another plane of existence to listen, the slow drag of him shifting before stilling making your body light up in a way you've never felt before. Your eyes were glassed over, breaths coming out in pants as your fingers gripped the elbow rests of the seat.

"Move," you whispered, thighs shaking, cunt full.

That first slow drag out and back in felt like the best punch in the gut you would ever recieve, the skin and unruly curls of his pelvis pressing against your clit. The combination of him filling you, shifting so slowly and sweetly, along with the accidental stimulation of your clit, made it feel like you were sinking into a pit of molasses, slowly but surely letting it enveloped you. Fuck the cloud, we were at molasses now and surely we would stay here in this heaven...

Kurt seemed to have other plans.

Every slow drag of his hips began to feel like torture, his mind was slowly invaded with you, and only you, but he didnt seem to be getting enough at the right pace. You were creeping in, thoroughly redefining the definition of what beauty and good sex was like. No, scratch that, great sex... no wait, mind altering sex. Yea... yea... that sounded good.

"Fuck!"

Your choked moan instantly brought him back, glancing down to watch your hands scrambling to grip onto the chair. His hips started snapping faster as he got lost in the feeling of you, the twitches and pulses of your pussy around him inadvertently pushing him to go harder.

"K-Kurt, holy shit-" you gripped his wrists, head falling to the side.

"Yea? Like it like that, baby?"

The two of you agreed, right before you started this, that in order to keep yourselves professional, and somehow still rivals, that you were to forbid two things: the use of affectionate pet names typically categorized for significant others and no kissing. The lack of sweet pet names felt obvious, two enemies wouldn't be calling each other things like 'baby' or 'honey' or 'sweetie'.... this was meant to be for stress relief and since you two were the only ones who really knew each other close enough to not tattle about your ventures (you had a rivalry to upkeep), you both agreed. And the no kissing thing was... mainly about intimacy. You argued that kissing was for close relations, Kurt argued that he kissed his friends on many occasions. You then rebuttled with "we aren't friends" and he just rolled his eyes.

It was a stupid idea, come to think of it, especially now when the two of you were moaning and a creamy ring was forming at the base of his cock, from the way he was snapping his hips up into you and as his voice was cooing to you.

"Fuck yes, please, need it!" You cried, arching up.

"Yea, yea all for me, yea? So pretty..." he cooed, voice soft but hands rough as he reached down and yanked your tee shirt up.

His fingers were rough and hands were borderline panicked as he ripped the cups of your bra down, cupping your chest in a way that made you press your hands over his.

"Like that, yes, yes, yes," the tone of your voice would've been a great sample, honestly, if you weren't getting railed.

"Touch your clit for me baby, make yourself feel good on my cock," he hissed, head falling forward, "Need to feel it, need to feel you."

You nodded fast, one hand reaching down to rub fast at your achy clit. The pressure of his hips wasn't enough for her, leaving her puffy and wanting for even a sliver (ha) more of attention.

"Fuck!"

"Holy shiiiiiit-"

The second your fingers pressed down and rubbed, your pussy tightened, hips bucking up into him and making his perfect rhythm stutter. He whipped his head up at you, blue eyes wide with a few strands sticking to his sweaty forehead, hands snapping to force your hips still. His grip was hot and hard, fingers buried into your flesh in a way that will certainly leave bruises the next morning.

"DON'T- fucking do that again... d-don't..." his chest heaving with every gulp of air as he looked down at you, arms shaking and body still.

You could feel it, matching his breaths and eyes as his cock pulsed and twitched inside what felt like your guts. It was warm and filling, satiating that twinge that made your body buzz so painfully... but it didnt satisfy you entirely... You ached, no craved, more.... You needed it, needed it as much as you needed every breath of air to soothe your fuzzy brain and bleary vision.

"K-Kurt, please... i need-"

"I know, I know... but I need... need you to stay still or I'm gonna, fuck, gonna fill you up right now," he blurted, whispers rasped.

With a small lean, his forehead pressed against your own, eyes fluttering shut and breaths intermingling. You shivered, goosebumps fanning over your exposed skin with every one of his breaths, smelling like a mix of strawberries and cigarettes.

Your eyes were screwed tight, ignoring the gnawing need in your belly that begged for even an ounce more of stimulation. It made you whimper, shifting your hips the tiniest bit for both comfort and satiation... bad move.

"If you fucking move anymore right now, i swear I'm gonna cum... m'serious." He said through gritted teeth, shifting his weight to press your hips against the cushion of the chair.

"Fuckkkkk you," you slurred, sucking in the small droplet of drool at the corner of your mouth.

His breath stuttered, voice low as he managed to grin between breaths, "Your already doing that."

The room was still and quiet, the only sound besides the ticking of the clock on the wall was the mixture of your gasps of air and occasional murmured conversation: You would whine and he would respond with a hum or he would breath out with a melodic tune, making you coo in response. But either way, the two of you refused to shift away, the heat of your bodies keeping you close and connected. Your shirt and bra were yanked over your chest, tangled uncomfortably under your chin, legs wrapped around his waist. His shirt was pulled up enough for you to see the happy trail that led down to where he was connected with you, jeans and boxers bunched at his thighs.

He shifted his head slightly, nose bumping softly into your own with a hum. It made you blink, lashes tickling his skin as your breaths intermingled, reminding you exactly how close he was to you.

Suddenly, it didn't feel like stress relief anymore.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the overwhelming thumps in your ears getting drowned out by his scent, the smell of him, the sound of his breaths, the feel of him on and in you, of all things Kurt...

This was your RIVAL! What were you doing?!

But that screaming voice inside your head, the one trying desperately to slap some sense into you, evaporated instantly the second he shifted just enough for his chapped lips to brush against your own. The world around you faded away, the sensation of him becoming the sole thing you could focus on as you grappled with the knowledge that your heart racing and the butterflies in your stomach were, in fact, not caused by the pleasure of cockwarming but by the very need to tear down whatever bullshit rivalry you had going on in favor of blurring those boundaries.

All because of a kiss.

You shoved your head forward, foregoing the subtleties to smack your noses into one another with a weird noise. And while he did hum, shifting back for a second from the impact, he didn't pull away. No... he leaned in, pressing his lips against your own harder, tilting his head for comfort.

It wasn't before long that you pulled away from the awkward little peck, just enough to take a breath before returning, albeit slower and with much more caution. One of his hand's came up to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing against the skin of your cheek as his tongue brushed your bottom lip. You could only oblige, letting your tongues meet halfway.

Kurt was fully enveloped in your being, too busy thinking and feeling about you to even care about whatever you had going on; too caught up in the craving of you.

What he did think of, however, was that there was no way the two of you could return to whatever dynamic you had before. Whether it was a real rivalry or playful jests or actual dislike, it didn't matter. The specifics didn't matter because what did matter was the increasing need to chase after the high your being was giving him.

You felt good, you tasted good, you moved good.... but he wanted great. And what would be great, in that moment, was feeling you cum around his cock while you wailed out his name... and doing so for the rest of your life.

"Fuck," he choked out as he pulled away, lips shiny with the mixture of your saliva. His hips began to shift again, moving quickly between the slow phase to the fast one, knocking out your breath.

"Holy shiiii-" you gurgled, eyes wide and face cradled in both his hands now, his body pinned over yours.

Your hands went to his back, fingertips finding the hem of his shirt and nudging it as you raked your nails up his back, leaving red streaks at their wake.

"Need you... need to... need... cum, need you to cum," he panted, swallowing the quiver.

He begged, so sweetly, in a way that you didn't think was possible for him. He was stubborn, headstrong and argumentative, and that's all you ever knew of him. But here, right now, pleads were tumbling from his lips like prayers, metaphorically and physically on his knees as he fucked himself deeper into you with every thrust.

The wet sounds echoing in the room were perverse in nature, making this feel so much more like the discreet affair it was than you were comfortable with. It made a flicker in your chest spark up, the burn making you blink your eyes over and over.

Your head felt cloudy and your body felt fuzzy, mind attempting to connect the dots with the two reality shattering feelings you had suppressed for a while now:

1. You absolutely had romantic feelings for your supposed rival.

2. If this was a one time thing, you were absolutely going to cry in your bed like you were 11 getting rejected by your crush.

Kurt continued his slurred speech, the words smooshed together like cursive as he went on and on, mainly to ground himself from the pleasure your cunt was making him feel; enough to fully melt the brain of any man. But he was too caught up and overwhelmed to notice you blinking away your glassy eyes and biting down the slight quiver of your bottom lip.

Your hands rushed to cup his own face, choking back gasps and moans as you hurriedly brushed hair from his face. You looked at him, chest heaving and head spinning, "K-Kurt, Kurt- ah, h-hey-!"

"Yeahhhh?" He hissed, eyes half lidded and unfocused, hips moving on autopilot to chase the growing feeling forming in the depths of your bodies, coaxing it to rise.

"Kurt, Kurt please-"

That made him focus, swallowing hard and reeling himself back in, hips slowing, "Sh-shit, sorry, did i-?"

"NO!" You borderline screamed. He had begun to shift away, moving to straighten and take away the warmth and pressure of his body over yours that you had grown to find comforting. So, you grasped him by the back of the shirt and yanked him back down, making him cry out at the way it made him sink back into your so suddenly.

"DON'T-" you cried, sniffling, "D-don't, i... i mean... i just-"

This felt so stupid and that rational devil on your shoulder was shaking its head, hand to forehead as it murmured, 'Why are you so emotional about this?"

Meanwhile emotional devil on your other shoulder was whimpering, patting your cheek as they whispered, 'He needs to know!'

So like a first time confession to your crush, you blurted out with cheeks burning and eyes brimmed with tears, "I-I dont want this to be a one time thing!"

"Shhh," he instantly cooed, panicked expression melting away as he physically and mentally softened. His heart was racing, afraid that he had fucked up the one chance he had to get close enough to you before you would wise up and strike back, effectively pushing him away once again, but, to his joy, it seemed like it didn't.

Both hands on your face tilted your head up, giving him the leverage to make you look right at him, "M'not going anywhere, okay? Want you to feel good, focus on that right now and only that... feel good for me, please?"

You nodded dumbly, lips parted as you panted, "Please, please, please more-"

"Shhhh, gonna give you more. Gonna give you whatever you want..."

The slow drag of his hips accompanied by the rough snap once he filled you made you choke on air, shifting your hands to messily kiss him once again.

The both of you moaned, clawing at one another as you exchanged saliva, bodies shaking as you got closer and closer to that peak you were desperately craving.

"Want you," he whispered hoarsely as he pulled away for a second.

"You have me-"

"No, want you."

You blinked, nodding, "Have me... you have me..."

"M'sorry for being an ass all this time..." he groaned, eyes blinking rapidly, "Wanted you so bad..."

"Yours... if you'll have me..." you whispered, cheeks burning.

He laughed breathlessly, "We're so fucking stupid..."

"Don't care... wanna be stupid with you," you choked, making him groan and lean in to kiss you again.

"Cum for me?" He murmured, feeling you squeeze around him.

"Yes, please, only if you cum for me too..." you gasped, eyes fluttering shut.

The two of you panted, foreheads pressed together and lips mashing into one another, muffling your moans as you came. He shuddered against you, hips moving shallowly before pulling out, spilling the last of himself over the skin of your stomach. You just whined, wiggling as the warmth of him prolonged your own orgasm.

"You fucking ass!" You whined, glancing down to see the shine on your skin with a supressed grin.

"Relax... I'll clean you up," he murmured against your ear, pressing a kiss to it afterwards.

You couldn't help but giggle, the rush of emotions from your mutual confession earlier coming back all at once now that you were coherent and less fuck drunk. He just smiled against your skin, nuzzling his nose against your cheek, the silence warm and comforting as the both of you slumped there, limbs sore and achy from all the movement against a chair in the middle of a recording studio.

"We might've done it all backwards but... I don't regret it." You whispered after a beat.

"Neither do i... but this is gonna be hard to explain later." He murmured.

It was silent again, the peace of the studio bringing you peace in your own beating hearts... until a loud click echoed in the room, making the both of you snap your eyes open, freezing into place.