Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/32829. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Underage Category: M/M Fandom: Odyssey_5 Relationship: Kurt_Mendel/Neil_Taggart Character: Kurt_Mendel, Neil_Taggart Additional Tags: First_Time, Angst, Drunk_Sex Series: Part 10 of Yuletide_Fanworks Collections: Yuletide_2009 Stats: Published: 2009-12-20 Words: 3219 ****** The Random Frantic Action that We Take ****** by shrift Summary "I wish you could remind me of who I was / because every day I'm a little further off." Notes Title and summary are lyrics by Amanda Palmer. "Astronaut (A Short History of Nearly Nothing)". Who_Killed_Amanda_Palmer. Beta by Nestra. "Vitality shows not only in the ability to persist but in the ability to start over." F. Scott Fitzgerald Neil pulled into the police station parking lot and parked his bike in a spot with a full view of the entrance. He took off his helmet and tapped a beat on the hard plastic. Neil's stomach growled suddenly. It was so loud that it startled the woman who was unlocking her car two spots over from him. He nodded at her and patted his stomach sheepishly. It was still weird being back in this body, this sweaty, impatient, constantly hungry body, horny all the time and desperate to stick his dick into something, anything. It was irritating and a little ridiculous. Neil had to feed every two hours and jerk off as often as possible in order to behave like a reasonable human being. Kurt walked out of the police station, scanning the parking lot for friendly faces. His eyebrow rose when he caught sight of Neil. "You're the welcoming committee?" Kurt called as he approached. He looked rough, red-eyed, his shirt buttoned wrong. "I would have thought being arrested and held in jail for 48 hours would prompt more sympathy. I feel snubbed." Neil sighed. "Well, one jailbird to another: Sarah's son's finally been diagnosed with cancer, and my Dad keeps telling the authorities that he doesn't like you very much, so I'm all you've got." Kurt closed his eyes for a moment at the news about Sarah. "No word on Angela. Signal received, loud and clear. And that's right, you have been in jail. What was it like for you?" Neil tossed Kurt the spare helmet. "Humiliating. Degrading. Really fucking boring." "Yes, that about covers it," Kurt said. Petulantly, he added, "They even took my bloody shoelaces." Kurt put on the helmet and got on the bike behind Neil, tucking himself close and wrapping his arms around Neil's waist. "Tally ho." Neil's stomach dipped, and he told himself that it was because it felt strange, having someone bigger behind him. Holly was so tiny that he hadn't noticed a difference, but with Kurt on the bike, Neil would have to drive carefully until he got comfortable compensating for the extra weight. Neil parked in the alley and followed Kurt to his loft, Kurt abruptly pushing him inside when his landlady waved at them from the other end of the hallway. "I couldn't abide another one of her experimental micro-brews," Kurt said. "Not after the week I've had." "Maybe not a micro-brew, but I certainly could use a drink," Neil sighed. The police had left his loft a mess, papers strewn all over the floor, drawers and cupboards open and their contents spilling out. The mattress on Kurt's bed was askew, and his laptop was missing. "Lovely," Kurt said. "It's looked worse," Neil offered. Kurt started stripping off his clothes as he walked toward the bathroom. Neil meant to avert his eyes, but he found himself watching instead, his attention drawn down to the white bandage just above Kurt's left knee as he took off his jeans and slung them over his shoulder. "I'm having a shower. Help yourself to any of my wide variety of alcoholic beverages." The shower came on. Neil poured himself a finger of scotch, reconsidered, and added another finger from the decanter. He sat on the couch, closed his eyes, and sipped, trying to get used to the taste again. He'd missed this, the freedom of being able to do anything he wanted, drive anywhere in his Porsche, eat cupcakes for breakfast without his mom scolding him. He'd trade it all just to get his mom back, but Neil was too much of a pragmatist to expect that they'd get another chance at this from The Seeker. The shower stopped. A few minutes later, Neil looked up to see Kurt coming out the bathroom wearing only his jeans, water dripping slowly from his curling hair. "Pacing yourself?" Kurt asked on his way to the kitchen. Neil shrugged and knocked back the rest of the scotch, grimacing as it went down. "Nope." "Trouble in underage paradise, hm?" Kurt asked, standing in front of the open refrigerator. He pulled out items one by one, either putting them on the counter or discarding them in the garbage. "Don't even get me started," Neil said. Kurt uncorked a bottle of wine. He contemplated his wine rack, and then opened another bottle. "Oh, do share. I'd rather contemplate anyone's life but my own this evening." Neil accepted a large glass of wine. "You asked for it." Kurt gestured with a butcher's knife. "I'll cook; you dispense with the juicy details." "Holly and I have been having problems since Rapture." Neil fiddled with the stem of his wine glass. "I guess real life isn't that great when you've been sharing some kind of nirvana mind-meld with a bunch of other people. She's lonely, and I'm never there for obvious reasons." "Cut to the juicy bits," Kurt suggested with a smirk. Neil rolled his eyes. "We had sex. She acted really strange after we did, and now I'm pretty sure she thought I was cheating on her because it wasn't terrible at it." "There's a wrinkle I hadn't considered." "Yeah, she thought I was just using her for sex and she dumped me." Neil was angry. Angry that Holly dumped him, angry at himself for not telling Holly the truth. But he couldn't tell the truth. Dad had trusted Mom with it, and look at what had happened to her. Kurt chopped some more things and began sliding them off the cutting board and into a large pot. "Did you go down on her?" Blushing, Neil said, "Yes. What does that have to do with anything?" Kurt whistled. "Probably should have saved that one for later. No teenage boy bothers with oral sex unless he's on the receiving end." "I bothered with it," Neil protested. "How long did it take you to get around to it when you actually were a teenage boy?" Kurt asked, eyeing him. "A while," he admitted. "What are you making?" Kurt looked down at his cutting board blankly, and then glanced at the pot. "Soup." Surprised by the simplicity of his answer, Neil said, "Soup? Just soup." "Potage Bonne Femme," Kurt said witheringly. "And a baguette, which is known here in the glorious USA as 'European French bread', according to the sign at the grocer." "Maybe they also carry Quebecois French bread." "Don't make excuses for the evil that they do, darling," Kurt said. He left the vegetables cooking in the pot, and turned on some music before joining Neil on the couch. "So, you're newly single. Whatever are you planning to do now?" "Get drunk," Neil answered honestly. "After that, I have no idea." Kurt clinked his wine glass against Neil's. "To an excellent plan. Cheers." They killed a bottle waiting for the soup to be ready. Kurt served it up with mismatched bowls and hunks of warm, crusty bread. Neil went back for seconds and thirds. Kurt topped off their glasses with the second bottle of wine, and got up to open another. Neil was feeling warm, sleepy, and mostly content for the first time in months. He glanced over at Kurt. He was staring at nothing, lost in thought. "Kurt," Neil said. He repeated himself, and then reached out to shake Kurt's knee. Kurt jerked his head around to look at Neil. He looked broken, bewildered, hurt, like Holly the last time he'd seen her. Neil immediately felt guilty; Angela was still missing. "You okay?" Kurt took a deep breath and rubbed at his eyes. "What? Yes. Fine. Why?" "Am I boring you?" Neil asked. "Do we need to break out the truth or dare?" "If you insist. On the subject of oral sex," Kurt said leadingly. Happy to provide a distraction, Neil tossed his head back and laughed. "Oh, man. The first time I went down on Holly, you know, the real first time? I was so high that I got down there, and just..." "What?" "Fell asleep," Neil said. His face went hot. "I think I snored." Kurt laughed so hard that he curled up into a ball around his wine glass. "Oh, you didn't!" "Oh, I was a regular teenage Lothario. I don't even know why I'm telling you this." Neil did, though; Kurt might tease, but he didn't judge. "Why did you wait so long to tell me all your dirty little secrets?" Kurt asked, wiping at his eyes. Neil slumped back onto the couch, spreading his legs and resting his wine glass between them. "Probably because I was trying too hard to be perfect. Trying to prove that I belonged in space, to NASA and my dad." "Imperfection is underrated," Kurt said bitterly. He drained the wine from his glass and refilled it. Wine slopped over the side of the glass and onto Kurt's thumb. He licked at the excess, chasing red droplets down his wrist. "Yeah. There was more than one reason why I spent those years in high school getting stoned out of my mind," Neil admitted. He gave Kurt a once-over without really intending to. Kurt was really attractive when he wasn't being incredibly obnoxious. "What are you looking at?" Neil was drunk and feeling reckless. "I'm mainly focusing on the fact that you aren't wearing a shirt." "That's a new development," Kurt said, his eyes wide. Blue. Curious. "Well," Neil said, and then stopped. Kurt stared at him, comprehension slowly dawning. "No." "Yeah." "I had no idea," Kurt said. He looked more alert now, like the way his brain came alive when he discovered a new piece of scientific evidence. Neil raised his eyebrow. "You weren't supposed to. We may live in Houston, but it's still Texas." "You know I'm old enough to be your father." "Technically, yeah," Neil said. He could feel his pulse beating fast in his throat. "But I'd really appreciate it if you didn't bring up my dad again. For obvious reasons." He put his hand on Kurt's thigh. The one that didn't have a bullet wound. "This is a deeply terrible idea, but what the hell," Kurt said slowly, leaning closer to kiss him. His breath was warm against Neil's cheek as he pressed their lips together, once, twice. The third time, Neil opened his mouth and discovered that Kurt's tongue was slick and hot, and tasted faintly of the wine they'd both been drinking. Kurt was good at kissing, better even than Neil expected, unhurried but definitely interested. Between kisses, he said, "I haven't ever, really." "I have," Neil murmured. "College was very enlightening." Kurt pulled back and looked his fill. "The hidden depths of Neil Taggart. I never suspected. I can't believe I let the regulation haircut and the neverending series of polo shirts fool me." Neil licked his lips. "There's more." "Do tell." "The first time I went down on a guy was my freshman year," Neil said. Recalling the memory, he rubbed his thumb over his lower lip. "It was my Chemistry TA. I didn't do it for a good grade. I just liked his tattoos." "Oh," Kurt said feelingly. "You really have been holding back with me, haven't you?" "I've been holding back with everyone." Neil had never told his parents. The place where his mother had been was an ache, something sore and raw and angry, and an ugly part of Neil was glad that she wouldn't ever know this about him. He'd been a disappointment to her for so long that he'd kept this a secret for years, afraid that she wouldn't understand, that it would be the last straw. Everybody thought that Dad was the hard one, the strict one, the immovable object; but Mom was the irresistible force, and their marriage was the only place where they coexisted. "Well, don't hold back with me," Kurt said. Neil put his wine glass on the floor and shifted closer, turned on and a little light-headed. He touched Kurt's chest, slowly sliding his hand down his abs. "Don't say no." "Neil," Kurt said, breathing in sharply. "Please," Neil begged. Kurt hastily drained his glass of wine and tossed it behind the couch, where it landed with a crash. "We could die tomorrow, and I have too many regrets not to say yes." Neil unbuttoned Kurt's jeans, sliding them down when Kurt lifted his hips. He wasn't wearing underwear, and his dick was mostly soft but responded immediately when Neil circled the head with the pad of his thumb and gave it a few quick strokes. Neil slid off the couch and tugged at Kurt until he was at the cushion's edge. He tasted Kurt's dick for a moment, using his tongue and his lips before sucking it into his mouth. Kurt wasn't small, but Neil was drunk enough that it didn't matter. "Fuck," Kurt said. Neil sucked and breathed through his nose when he could, his own spit slicking the way. He stroked Kurt's dick with one hand, sliding the other around Kurt's waist and down the back of his jeans, resting his palm on Kurt's ass. Kurt rested his hand on Neil's nape, sliding his fingers under the collar of Neil's T-shirt to squeeze his trapezius muscle. It felt good, and Neil hummed in pleasure. "Do that again," Kurt said, his voice low and raspy, his accent losing its crisp edges. Neil did, and Kurt made an appreciative noise. "That's it, darling." Neil gently held Kurt's balls in his hand, and let Kurt thrust into his mouth without check. He didn't have much of a gag reflex to begin with, and in college he'd learned that alcohol made it nearly nonexistent. Kurt tugged at Neil's shoulder and then pulled him off completely, coming on Neil's cheek and his chest. Time moved in fits and snatches. Neil blinked, and then he was on his feet, Kurt walking him to the bed. Kurt took off Neil's shirt. Neil kicked off his shoes and socks, and they both tackled his pants and boxers. He blinked again, and he was on the bed, sweating, the sheets sticking to the backs of his thighs. Kurt kissed him with lazy swipes of his tongue, and Neil made a wild noise when Kurt touched his nipples. Whispering, Kurt said, "Tell me if I do something you don't like." Neil found himself laughing, the laughter grinding into a moan when Kurt put his hand on Neil's dick. "Unless you're into something really kinky, and I mean really kinky, I don't think that's going to be a problem." "Even more hidden depths," Kurt said, pressing Neil into the bed with his weight, covering him, kissing him, stroking his dick. He wanted this to last, but his body was seventeen and stupid, too urgent, needing everything right now, all the time. He came with his legs spread wide and his hands clenching Kurt's pillow. Kurt pressed his forehead to Neil's. The world rotated when Neil closed his eyes. Neil woke up and squinted at the ceiling. His teeth and tongue were fuzzy, and he felt a stabbing pain in the back of his head, above his right ear. He desperately needed to pee and drink a gallon of water in equal measure, and maybe after a shower, he'd kill for a giant cup of coffee and some bacon. Someone shifted on the bed next to him, and for a second, Neil wondered who the hell he'd brought home with him last night, because he'd stopped randomly hooking up with people six months before NASA accepted him into the program. He sat up straight as all of it came rushing back. Kurt slept on his side, his pillow covering his face. "Fuck," Neil said softly. He looked down at himself, at the come flaking on his chest, and decided that he definitely was taking that shower. He slipped out of bed and hunted down his clothes as quietly as he could before going into the bathroom. The shower probably wouldn't wake Kurt, not with the number of women he entertained. There was a collection of new toothbrushes in Kurt's medicine cabinet. Neil used one. The pounding in his head receded a little under the hot water as Neil scrubbed at himself with soap, washed his hair, and wondered if Kurt even owned a razor. He needed a shave even if Kurt usually didn't bother. The phone rang somewhere in the loft. A few moments later, Kurt ripped open the shower curtain, still holding the portable phone. "It's Chuck. Angela's been found," Kurt said. "I need you to take me to the hospital." Neil was done with his shower, so he turned off the water and stood there, dripping. "I'll get dressed." Kurt didn't move out of the way. He lunged forward and grabbed Neil's arm. "Look. This never happened." "Fine, whatever," Neil said, stung. Suddenly, he was glad that he was wet and that his eyes were already red. It was the second time in very recent memory that he'd slept with someone and been shown the door without a say in the matter. College was still years away, and having it to look forward to was a cold comfort considering that he might not live long enough to go. He wanted to be anywhere but here. "You can't tell anyone," Kurt said. "Towel?" Handing him one, Kurt said, "Neil, I'm serious. Are you even listening to me?" Neil dried himself off and began to dress. "I heard you the first time." "Look," Kurt said, trailing after Neil when he left the bathroom to find his socks and shoes. Neil sat on the rumpled covers to tie his sneakers. "I don't think you understand the situation here --" "Why are you even acting like I'm a part of this conversation?" Neil snapped. "Angela's alive. I know how this story goes." That stopped Kurt dead. He went white, as if he hadn't quite processed the news yet. "Angela." Neil was exhausted and didn't want to deal with this shit, but he said, "Put on some clothes. I'll take you to her." "I could kiss you," Kurt murmured absently as he plucked some clothes from the floor and put them on after brief sniff test. "Right," Neil said, turning away to put on his jacket. "This won't change anything," Kurt said, half plea and half command. "What won't? I don't even know what you're talking about," Neil said lightly. Kurt smiled at him brilliantly, and Neil wanted to punch him in the face. Neil didn't. He dropped off Kurt at the entrance to the emergency room, and watched him race inside before pulling away to find parking. He went to the hospital cafeteria and got a giant, disgusting coffee and a stale doughnut, and was just finishing both when his dad finally found him. "You didn't come home last night," Dad said. "Nope," Neil said. "You gonna tell me about it?" Neil shook his head, frowning. "You don't want to know." "Okay." Dad eyed him hard. A few weeks ago, he never would have let Neil get away with being so glib. "You want to go see Angela?" "Yeah," Neil said, standing up. "I'm ready." Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!