Rating: NC-17
Original Date of Completion: October 2002
Notes: After Brett gets fic!James suspended, Curtis "works some Curtis charm" on Dean McMahon to get James' suspension lifted. James thinks of a special way to make Curtis feel better about it, and to say thank you.
*********************
Sometimes I think Curtis may be the most naive person in the entire world. But that's just one of the billions of things that makes him so irresistibly cute. When he said earlier that he'd "Worked some Curtis charm" on Dean McMahon to get my suspension lifted, contrary to what he may believe, I knew what that meant. In the past, I probably would've gotten upset about it. But my relationship with Curtis has grown so much, the jealousy that would usually run rampant in a situation like that was nowhere to be found. I knew that I was the only one that he loved, so there was no reason to be jealous. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't be at all cool with him just going around and sleeping with anyone. But come on, this was MCMAHON. I know that didn't mean anything to him. And it made my heart melt to know that he cared enough about me to do something like that.
Still, I couldn't let him do that, and not thank him properly. There were quite a few proper thank you's that ran through my mind. The first one that came to mind was coffee. I know how much he enjoys it, and I keep it from him, because well, I have a hard time keeping up with him when he drinks it. He's like a bunny rabbit on speed. I didn't really feel like dealing with that though, so I nixed that idea. The next one that came to mind was another orgy with the Grind Line and Sean. He had so much fun the last time, that's all he talked about for like 2 days after. But, in a self involved moment, I nixed that idea also. I was hard for like a week straight after that, it was kind of difficult to function properly. So with that idea gone, I was left with one more. And that's the one I decided upon, and brought me to where I am now. The paint section of our friendly neighborhood Lowe's store.
"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" Kirk asked me as we walked down the paint aisle, searching for the color of my choice.
I knelt down, reading the label of a paint can on the bottom shelf. "Kirk, he deserves it. McMahon is a disgusting bastard, and I know this is eating Curtis up inside. This way, Curtis will feel a lot better, and McMahon will get something he deserves,"
Kirk sighed and leaned against a shelf, jamming his hands in his pocket. "I think you should just have another orgy with me and the rest of the Grind Line,"
"I'm sure you'd love that," I laughed, rolling my eyes.
Kirk reached down to adjust himself, then looked down at me with a grin. "How can you tell?"
Again I rolled my eyes. "Gee, I wonder?" I said, pushing him playfully out of my way. "This is it, this is the other color I wanted,"
He picked up the can and sat it into the cart. He glanced over the other cans in the cart, then stared at me with a raised eyebrow. "Neon Green, Purple, Black, Yellow, and Red? What are you doing for him, taking him on an episode of Trading Spaces? I hate to break it to you James, Curtis is not Ty, and you are soooo not Laurie,"
I snorted a laugh, shaking my head as I pushed the cart forward. "Trading Spaces will have nothing on us when we're done."
* * *
When we returned from Lowe's, Kirk helped me carry the paint inside, then left for undisclosed reasons. About 10 minutes later I heard him scream "Ohhhh Mac!", so I figured out pretty easily what he was doing. As hot and distracting as that thought was, I kept myself focused on unleashing my plan. It was kind of hard to organize in a little under a day, but with help from the evil genius that is Kirk Maltby, and just a bit of assistance from Stephanie McMahon, everything came together. All that was left now was waiting for Curtis to get home. When he did, Operation Paint Job went into effect.
Eventually, he did arrive home. As was the usual, he kissed me on the cheek, then went into the bathroom. This gave me perfect time to start my plan in action. I grabbed my cell phone from the desk and two-wayed Stephanie. When she picked up, I opened my notebook and shook my head at our choice of code words.
"The Grind Line fucks at midnight," I snorted, still shaking my head.
"But Chloe sucks at dawn," She returned.
As quick as that, our connection was ended. I shut my phone off, then reached into the drawer of my desk. The silk scarf from the other night was still there, and with a smile I picked it up. I ran the silk through my fingers before walking over to the bathroom door. When Curtis stepped back into the room, I wrapped the silk around his eyes quickly, stepping behind him with a giggle.
"What are you doing?" He asked, amusement evident in his voice.
"Not what you think," I giggled in return, tying the silk.
"Aww, I thought it was sex time," He pouted as I pushed him forward.
"All in due time," I told him as I pushed him to the door.
"I love it when we have sex,"
"So do I," I kissed him on the cheek as I opened the door. "One thing though?"
"Huh?"
"These clothes are replaceable, right?"
* * *
As we walked into the hall, I saw my plan unfold before my eyes. McMahon charged down the hall, Stephanie hot on his heels. She stopped and winked at me before continuing to chase after her father. I never did bother to ask her what she planned to tell him. It wasn’t honestly a big concern of mine, as long as he was out of his office, I was happy. I'd have to thank her later, even if she was more than willing to help me out. Maybe I could get her some complimentary sex toys from Steve and Frala's business. That is, if she doesn't already have the contents of their entire catalogue.
When we approached McMahon's office, Kirk and Darren were just walking out. They giggled at us, then shared a quick kiss before fleeing from the scene. Curtis asked who'd made the giggles, but I silenced him with a kiss before pushing him into the office. I guided him down into McMahon's chair, then surveyed the room. The Grind Line Boys had set everything up just how I'd asked them to. The five cans of paint sat opened on McMahon's desk. Brushes and various rags were scattered about the room. Something told me this was going to be a fun time. I left Curtis in the chair, then quickly ran back to the door. I locked it, and pulled a table in front of it. I didn't want anyone to interrupt Curtis' fun. When that was secure, I walked back over to Curtis, and pulled the scarf from his eyes. He looked around the room, then stared up at me with question in his eyes.
"Why are we in here?"
I turned the chair so he was facing me. I knelt down in front of him and grabbed his hands in mine. "Curtis, I know what you did to get my suspension lifted...." I started.
"James," He interrupted.
I silenced him with a finger on the lips, and smiled at him. "And it's the kindest most caring thing anyone has ever done for me. That's why we're here,"
He smiled at me and squeezed my hand. His eyes traveled around the room, before returning to mine. He stared at me in question once more, then scratched his head. "I still don't get it,"
"Well, I'll never be able to say thank you enough for what you did. You already know that I'd do anything for you if the opportunity arose. Only thing is, no opportunities are rising right now, so I had to think of something else,"
He pulled me up to him, and silenced me with a kiss. "I love it when you ramble,"
I grinned and brushed my fingers through his hair. "Now what I was saying, since I can't thank you enough, I decided I had to do SOMETHING for you. And since I knew how much you hated him before, and I'm sure you hate him even more now, as do I. So I figured, we could trash his office," I explained happily, motioning to the paint with my hand.
I watched with amusement as his eyes lit up, and he squealed in delight. He hopped quickly to his feet, pulling me along with him. His arms wrapped around me, and he pushed his lips roughly onto mine. My fingers snaked up his neck, tangling themselves in his hair. He moaned softly into my mouth, and bit down on my bottom lip. I moaned causing him to pull away from me with a giggle.
"I love you," He spoke sweetly, grabbing my hand.
"I love you too," I echoed.
"Now, let's paint," He giggled, walking across the room and grabbing a brush.
He picked up the biggest brush he could find, then brought it back to the paint. He dipped it into the neon green, then in a flash, pulled it from the can, splashing paint against the wall. He laughed almost maniacally as it dripped down the wall, coating the school logo in neon green. He stared at it appraisingly, then splashed the wall again. Paint shot from the brush, coating the wall, the file cabinet, and even a little bit of me in green. He grinned sheepishly at me, and I just shook my head.
"You just have fun, if I get in the way, looks like I get covered in paint," I stated with a shrug.
He bounced on his heels, then picked up a rag from the floor. He dipped it into the purple paint, then threw it across the room, connecting dead center in the wall that held McMahon's degrees. I saw his eyes light up again, and a devilish smirk come across his face. I nodded encouragingly at him, and he handed me a paintbrush.
"I'm going to need your help with these, there are a lot of them," He said giddily, skipping over to the wall.
He picked the purple rag up from the floor, then slammed it against one of McMahon's degrees, sending it crashing to the floor. He stomped on it, then walked back over to the paint. I was glad to see he was having so much fun. He reminded me of a child with fingerpaint; he'd only used a brush and a rag so far, but already he was covered in paint. I had some specks of green on my shirt, but I had no worries. Disposing of the evidence was part of the plan.
He picked up the can of black paint, and took it back over to the degree wall. I knew what he was going to do, but I couldn't help a laugh when he did it. Black paint splashed along the wall, covering the remaining degrees in an opaque layer. I applauded, causing him to turn around with a grin. I couldn't stop from laughing as I saw him, now liberally freckled with black paint. He walked back over to me, and pushed me up against the green wall, soaking the back of my shirt. He wrapped his arms around me, and pushed his lips onto mine.
"Help me," He whined, wiping his paint covered hand down my cheek. "This is a big room,"
I giggled at him and wiped my cheek, coming away with a black hand. "Okay, if you insist,"
I took the paintbrush Id been holding and dipped it into the red paint. Like he had with the green, I pulled it quickly from the can, splashing the far wall in red paint. Curtis did that maniacal laugh again, that sounded something like muahahaha, then picked up the can of yellow. He threw it against the door, covering it in disgustingly bright yellow. The can fell to the floor, spilling yellow paint onto McMahon's pure white carpet. With a grin, Curtis walked over to me, and took the can of red. He threw it too against the door, coating it in red, and spilling it onto the floor.
"This is so much fun!" He squealed as he walked over to the fallen paint cans.
As he approached them, he must've hit the paint in the floor, and went sailing backward. He landed on the carpet with a squish, and immediately erupted in giggles. I rushed over to him, and knelt beside him, trying to disguise my laughter. That attempt failed, and as I extended a hand to help him, he pulled me down with him. I landed more on him than in the paint, but my pants were still liberally covered. Curtis obviously wasn't satisfied, so he rubbed his hand into the carpet then wiped it on my face.
"Orange is your color," He giggled, wiping the rest of the paint onto my shirt.
"Yeah? Well yellow is yours,"
I reached into the yellow can, and soaked my hand in paint. He tried to squirm beneath me, but I was able to wipe my hand down his cheek before he could get away. He stared at me with a mock glare, which I answered with sticking my tongue out. A smirk spread across his lips, and he sped over to the desk. I jumped across the room to grab the black, arming myself with it and a clean rag. Curtis countered with the neon green, and a paint roller that I don't remember buying. I'd have to thank Kirk for that later. Or kill him, depending on how this situation turned out.
"Black is not my color," He said, moving to the front of the desk.
"Green isn't mine," I replied, moving down the one clean wall still left in the office.
"Yes it is," He giggled, dipping the roller into the paint. "See?" He shook the roller at me, tossing green paint all along my front.
I wiped some of the paint from my face, then dipped my rag into the paint. "And see, black is yours," I tossed the rag lightly at him, hitting him in the chest and splashing paint along his face. His mouth widened in shock, and he shot me that fake glare again.
"That's it for you mister," He explained, sitting the paint back on the desk, and rolling up his sleeves.
I giggled and sat my paint onto the filing cabinet. I walked to where he stood with a grin. My body twitched in anticipation. I knew what was going to happen, but the getting there was half the fun. I stared at him with a smirk, and leaned down so we were touching nose to nose.
"So what are you gonna do?" I asked.
"This,"
In a flash, our lips found each other's. My arms slipped around him, and I guided him onto the desk. I pushed the remaining paint cans from the desk, sending green and purple crashing onto the floor. Curtis lay back on the now empty desk, pulling me along with him. His hands quickly found their way to my waist, yanking my shirt from my pants. Our lips separated long enough for my shirt to be pulled over my head, then met once again. I squirmed as my bare skin met the paint covering him. He giggled, and slipped his paint covered hands down my back. For some odd reason, that only served to increase my arousal. My hands migrated quickly to his shirt, and ripped the buttons apart. He leaned up from the desk as I pushed his shirt off, sending it down to the floor with mine. I pushed him softly back onto the desk, coaxing a quiet hiss from him as he lay back against the cold marble. I pulled away from him, and ran my fingers through his hair, not thinking about the paint covering my hands. To his credit, Curtis just giggled, and pulled me down for another kiss.
"It's sex time," He said firmly, lust swimming in his shimmering blue eyes.
I nodded, and brought my hand to my pocket. I reached inside, and pulled out the key ingredients for sex time, a condom and lube.
"I love it when you come prepared,"
I silenced him with a kiss, and slipped my hands up his body. He moaned quietly, nibbling softly on my bottom lip. I slipped the condom into his hand, and dragged my hand slowly down his chest. His body jerked in response. My hands found their way to his waist, and quickly I unfastened his jeans. I grinned as I saw he wasn't wearing boxers. I loved it when HE came prepared. I wiped what little paint remained on my hands on my jeans, then wrapped my hand around his shaft. He whimpered as I stroked him slowly. His hands played around my waist, slowly inching their way to the button of my jeans. My body ached in longing, at this rate, I'd explode before my pants were even down. Curtis must've noticed, as in one quick motion, my jeans were unbuckled and unzipped. I pulled away from him, and pushed both jeans and boxers from my hips, stepping out of them and tossing them on the pile with the rest of our clothes. I wrapped my hand back around his shaft, and stared down into his eyes.
"Want you," He moaned, jamming his eyes shut.
I buried my head in his neck, and nibbled softly at his collarbone. "No, need you," He whimpered, thrusting against my hand.
I pulled away from him and took the lube from his hand. I squirted a glob onto my fingers, rubbing in just slightly. I watched his face as I inserted a finger, watching it tense, then soften into a smile in a way I never get tired of seeing. I grazed my other hand softly down his chest, goosebumps forming on his paint covered skin. His eyes opened as I inserted another finger, and he stared at me in that beautiful way that he always does when we reach this point. I smiled at him, and slowly slipped another finger in. He leaned up on his elbows and tore open the condom wrapper with his teeth. I grinned, and slowly let my fingers slip from him. His hand found my shaft, and slowly, TORTUROUSLY slowly, he rolled the condom onto me. When he reached the hilt, he pulled me down to him, and wrapped his legs around me.
Our lips met once more as I positioned myself at his opening. Our kisses took off quickly, but slowly I pushed myself into him. As often as we've done this lately, its still the most amazing feeling in the world. Being so connected with him, being one with him, it's so incredible. I can safely say I've never loved another thing more in my life, and it's these times when I feel that the strongest.
When I was completely inside him, I stopped to give him time to adjust. He stared up at me happily, and mouthed the words "I love you," which I answered with a kiss. My hand met his shaft again, and I soon found a matching rhythm as I started to thrust into him. He moaned and whimpered, softly biting down on my lip when the pleasure became too intense. The quick jolts of pain entwined with the pleasure sent shockwaves down my body. My lips slipped from his, and my face found his neck as I continued slowly thrusting into him. His hands found their way into my hair, clenching softly as I nibbled at his collarbone. As he began to thrust his hips against mine, I knew his orgasm was approaching. My strokes turned into quick jerks, squeezing loud moans from him each time. With a loud gasp, he lost it, flooding over my hand, splashing against both of our chests. His muscles clamping around my shaft sent me too over the edge. I thrust into him once more, whispering "I love you" into his ear as the blissfulness of orgasm overtook me.
As I came down from orgasm, I slowly pulled myself from him. I carefully pulled the condom off, tying it, and dropping it onto the pile of our clothes. I collapsed against him, returning my face to his neck. I inhaled, savoring his sweet scent, mixed with the light aroma of paint. He sighed softly, and wrapped his arms around me.
"I love you, James," He whispered, kissing me on the forehead.
"I love you too, Curtis," I yawned.
"Thanks for doing this for me. You always know how to make me feel better," He spoke sweetly as I separated from him.
"Anything for you, baby,"I told him as I walked to the filing cabinet.
As expected, in the bottom drawer sat a black garbage bag. Kirk had done everything I'd asked him too, so a thanks was definitely in order for him. I pulled it from the cabinet and carried it back to the desk. Curtis looked on in question as I emptied the bag onto the desk. Inside it were six simple items; 2 pairs of black sweat pants, 2 black t-shirts, and 2 black ski masks. So even if anyone saw us leaving, they'd never be able to identify who we were. I handed the outfit to Curtis, and with that maniacal laugh (that I was really started to enjoy) he started to slip it on. I watched him dress completely before I even started to put mine on. When he was fully clothed, he leaned over and kissed me, then stepped over the filing cabinet. He pulled open the top drawer, and looked at me with a grin. Both of our eyes flashed to the can of black paint atop the cabinet.
"Oops," He giggled as he tipped the can over, drenching McMahon's files.
I giggled and kissed him before slipping my outfit on. When I was finished, I carefully picked up our clothes from the floor, and dropped them into the garbage bag. Everything else could stay the way it was, our clothes were the only evidence. Curtis slung the bag over his shoulder as I walked over to the door. I pushed the table from in front of the door, and slowly opened it. No one was around, so we quietly stepped outside into the hallway. When we were out of the office, we burst into a run, straight back to our dorm. As much as we enjoyed it, there was no way we wanted credit for that redecoration. It would be an anonymous work from two adoring students of Dean McMahon. Since Bettman was a disgusting bastard, and McMahon may be worse, the security cameras had been removed from that office, so we were completely safe. All that was left now was to burn the evidence. Well that, and, when given the signal, return to the scene of the crime to see the look on McMahon's face when he saw his new paint job. I hope he enjoys it, because that's the last job of any kind he'll ever get from my boyfriend.
THE END
© 2002 Triple X