Dave was on the phone to Jenny, and so engrossed in his conversation that he barely noticed when Kurt crept into the room and sat opposite him on a couch.

"Yeah, the tour's going great, Jen." He kept talking even as Kurt fixed him with a naked, lustful gaze. "Uh, I think we're heading out of New York, soon. We-" But he lost his voice suddenly.

"Dave?" Jenny sounded suddenly vague, and far away. "Are you still there?"

"Uh-huh," Dave croaked, staring at Kurt. The singer was slouched low in his seat, his legs spread wide, and he was rubbing his crotch suggestively. His hungry eyes were locked on Dave's.

"Are you okay, Dave? Honey?"

"Y-yeah." There wasn't enough oxygen in the room; it was heavy, and too hard to breathe. Kurt was rubbing himself, his erection making itself known through the material of his jeans, and then, oh God, then he was slipping his hand inside his pants to touch himself properly. He groaned, and Dave felt his cock twitch. "I.. I'm fine," he gasped. Kurt smiled at his drummer.

Jenny was saying something else, but for the life of him Dave couldn't concentrate. Kurt unzipped his fly and his cock tumbled out, straining. Dave watched, mouth open and panting, as Kurt's slim fingers teased his head, slid along his underside, pumping. Jerking off.

"Dave," Kurt murmured, lowly so that Jenny wouldn't overhear. "Oh, David." He groaned again, harshly. Forget twitching, as Kurt canted his hips towards the younger man, Dave's cock was practically burning a hole in his fucking underwear.

From the phone, Jenny's voice was thin, and concerned. "Dave, are you okay?"

"I, I'm sick," he lied in a gasp of air. He could see the pre-cum pooling on Kurt's tip. It was making his mouth water. "Hot," he moaned.

"Hot? Do you have a fever?"

"Yes." And it wasn't a lie; as he watched Kurt moan and writhe on the couch, he'd never felt hotter in his life.

"You poor thing."

"Hang up, Dave." Kurt whispered. Wide-eyed, Dave shook his head. "Hang up, or else."

"Kurt hasn't been working you too hard, has he?"

Jesus fucking Christ. "N-no." Dave blurted out the word, cock hard and hot as molten steel in his pants. Kurt had stopped touching himself, and was rising off the couch. His cock still stood out like a rod from his unzipped jeans.

"Hang up," he demanded quietly, and knelt between Dave's legs, and the drummer knew exactly was was coming.

"No!" he whispered fervently, and tried to push Kurt's head away. But there was no stopping him.

"No what, Dave?" Jenny sounded confused.

"N-nothing!" His voice rose about an octave and took on a harsh, breathy quality. Kurt's face was buried in his crotch, and he was nuzzling his cock through his pants, kissing the bulge, mouthing the shape of it. Dave knew if this kept up that Jenny would catch on to what was happening, or someone would come in and spot them, but he was helpless to prevent it. He could hear Kurt breathing against his thigh, hard and muffled and desperate, and then he was licking, his tongue warm even through the layers of fabric. Dave momentarily forgot how to speak as the last of the blood drained from his brain to head down south.

"What's wrong, Dave? What's going on?"

"...stomach," he muttered, his crotch growing steadily wetter and wetter beneath Kurt's tongue. "M-my stomach... h-hurts."

"Hang up," Kurt crooned against his cock. "Hang the fuck up now." Then he bit down, gentle but still hard enough, and when Dave felt those teeth close over him it was too much for him to stand, and he cried out.

"David! Are you okay!?"

"I... I..." He heaved, trembling, and almost screamed when Kurt bit again, harder this time. "I have to g-go... gonna b-be sick. Sorry."

"Dave-"

He hung up, and dropped the phone. Kurt laughed triumphantly from between Dave's thighs.

"You bastard," Dave whimpered. "You f-fucking bastard. What happens if we get caught?"

"We won't get caught." Kurt's words were muffled as he forced his mouth over Dave's bulge. He could taste his drummer through the soaking material, and sucked greedily. Dave gurgled. "If you'd just shut up, we won't get caught." Teeth nipped again, and Dave had to bite down on his arm to stifle his howl. He was almost crying, but it still wasn't enough. Feeling Kurt's mouth through his jeans wasn't enough.

"Kurt... p-please..."

"What?"

"Bastard. Do it. Suck m-me off. Please."

Kurt laughed again, and unzipped Dave's fly. He was panting like a locomotive, muttering obscenities under his breath. Kurt leaned down, and licked from base to tip.

"G-god, you bastard. Do it, or I'll fucking kill you."

Kurt considered making him wait, but he knew how cruel that would be. And he also knew Dave would stop at nothing to get him back for it.

So he slid his mouth over Dave's cock, and sucked like a vacuum instead.