Love Buzz

Chapter Eight: Stay Away

Things went alright with Kurt for the next few days, but I won’t deny that the air was somewhat tense with him now that I had said that something bad might happen to us. Maybe that was the bad thing; me worrying about it. Maybe if I hadn’t, our relationship would still be in tact. Either that, or we just weren’t meant for each other in the first place. I loved Kurt, I really did. I could say it a hundred times, and it wouldn’t lose its meaning, but I don’t think the love I had for him would survive.

It started when I got home from the diner. I opened the door to an empty house (no shit, but I’m not in the mood for jokes), sighing before shutting it behind me. Home sweet home, dark as the night around it. I flipped on the foyer light so I could see my way to the kitchen, walking what felt like the road to ruin. Right when I got to the kitchen, though, something hit me. Not literally, though, but what I was about to do would make me wish something had. “Maybe I should check my answering machine,” I thought to myself, taking a Coke out of my fridge, closing the door, and walking over to the tiny white machine on the counter. One message. I pressed the button, hoping that it was only Krist telling me that he learned how to floss his nose (he often liked to call me with the weirdest things when he was drunk at night).

“I’ve got a bone to pick with you, Dave Grohl,” a nasally tone permeated the air, drifting through my ears to successfully and mercilessly grate on my nerves. “Or, I would, if you weren’t too much of a chicken shit to pick up the fucking phone.”

I snorted at the last comment. Courtney Love has had her way with many things, and she had a way with words. Really, I think she could win the Nobel Prize. Despite what my brain thought, my heart sank lower than it ever had, as if it were trying to win a limbo tournament. I suddenly knew why she had called, and I began to panic.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to,” Courtney’s prerecorded voice chastised me, “You’re fucking around with my husband, and I don’t take kindly to people stealing my fucking shit, alright!?”

That confused me. If she really loved Kurt like she insisted, why did she refer to him as “her fucking shit”? Did she actually regard him as property or something? I wouldn’t be surprised; I bet she’s still married to him for his money. If she wasn’t, she would have dropped him a long time ago.

“So, watch your fucking back, Grohl,” Courtney spat as I imagined her trademark sneer, her eyes burning into me. “Or you’ll be found in Lake Washington by 11:00 tomorrow night.” Click.

‘Well, Courtney,’ my brain retorted with a chuckle, ‘you’re going to have to learn some better pick up lines by then.’ I really didn’t get my brain sometimes; when it was playing it cool, my heart and my stomach were normally going “Shit, shit! We’re in the jungle now! We’re gonna die!” Like now, for instance. No messages, my answering machine chimed after Courtney’s message played.

Well, that was it. I was wrong; all of this was going to crash, and I was going to have to watch it smolder in the flames of skankpuppet. But it just seemed wrong, to sit in the backseat after I had waited so long for this relationship to start. It almost sounded criminal. It wasn’t fair to Kurt, either. I wasn’t going to just dump him because I was afraid of a psychotic airhead. I had to fight for it; and if it’s really right, and if we were lucky, I wouldn’t have to worry about Courtney at all.

As if by magic, the doorbell rang right after the machine had declared that no messages were left. I jumped at the sudden noise, sending my mind in a panic about who it could be and what to do, but it had seemed that my legs had already decided what to do, as they had started walking to the door, taking me with them. I had no choice put to turn the doorknob and therefore, answer the door.

“H-hi!” I exclaimed, a little too loudly even for myself. I couldn’t help it, knowing who it was standing on my doorstep.

“Hey,” Kurt’s steady voice floated through the winter air and through to my eardrums. I had only seen him about an hour ago, but I was still so happy to see him; knowing what would most likely happen, any time I spent with Kurt would be valuable. I allotted a few moments of silence to pass as I stood in the doorway of my house, just looking at Kurt standing outside in his cardigan and sweater along with ragged torn jeans. Even at 26, he still knew how to look like an awkward little kid, and it was just so adorable to see.

“So, uh,” Kurt began, coughing into the too-long sleeve of his sweater. “Are you going to let me in, or am I just going to have to stand out here in the freezing cold?

I blushed at the question; I had been so mesmerized by the sight of my boyfriend (is that what we were?) in the snow that I had forgotten to let him in the house. I swear that man will be the death of me. I could see it now; Kurt would be in the car with me looking extra handsome, and I wouldn’t be able to keep my eyes on the road. It would be a disaster. ‘Note to self,’ I thought, ‘Let Kurt drive every time I’m with him.’

I finally had the brains to step aside to let Kurt shuffle into the house and take off his cardigan and sweater. Should I tell him about the message, possibly even let him listen? I opened my mouth to ask him about it, but closed it again. He didn’t need to know. I shuffled silently back to the kitchen and deleted the message.

“Do you remember what day it is, Dave?” Kurt asked me as I returned to the living room. It was Wednesday, but somehow, I knew that wasn’t the right answer. I had lost track of the number date, and the only thing I knew was that it was still February. I didn’t say anything, but went and sat on the couch next to Kurt, hearing the old springs groan under both our weight.

“Um…Wednesday?” I guessed even though the nagging at my heart told me that that wasn’t the answer he was looking for.

“Well, that too…” Kurt admitted, looking down at his fingernails. Now I felt really stupid; it was probably some really important day that I just magically forgot and then Kurt would hate me forever. “Dave, it’s my birthday.”

I told you. I looked at my calendar (which I hadn‘t paid attention to in weeks), and noticed that he was right. Wednesday, February 20th. How could I have forgotten? I looked over at Kurt to apologize profusely and beg his forgiveness, but he was smiling. Okay, from this point forward, Kurt Donald Cobain was insane. If someone, my boyfriend especially, forgot my birthday; I would tear their face off. But Kurt…Kurt was sitting there smiling. This makes me question the ways of which his mind works.

“And because it’s my birthday,” he continued, a smirk stretching across his lips. “You have to give me anything I want because I know you forgot and you must make up for it.”

Call me slow or something, but I barely had a clue of what he was telling me. I thought about asking him what he meant, but I didn’t want him to think I was stupid, so I just closed my mouth. Kurt inched closer, and magically, I finally got what he meant, and was too slow to stop the blush from stretching across my cheeks. I fought back the urge to lean back as my personal space was invaded, but I couldn’t help jumping as Kurt’s lips finally touched mine. Kurt leaned back, shock in his eyes. My heart pounded as I worried if I had hurt his feelings.

“I’m sorry…I thought you wanted me to…” Kurt started saying remorsefully, but I shook my head.

“It’s not that. Really, it’s not. You just caught me off guard a little,” I said, trying to reassure him so that he wouldn’t get the wrong idea. To reinforce this, I leaned over and gave him a big kiss right on his lips, making him let out a startled [unmanly] yelp. He quickly recovered, and kissed back hard, and attempted to push me off so that he could top, but all he accomplished was sending us to the floor. Kurt resumed the kiss as we had broken apart from the shock of falling, throwing one arm around my waist, and the other grabbing at my hair tie (I had forgotten to take it out from rehearsal), pulling it out while I practically forced his lips apart, shoving my tongue in his mouth. It was all very rough, but for some strange reason, I loved it. I reveled in it; it turned me on so much. Both my hands ran down his chest, his sides, dipping into his jeans. Kurt shifted so he was straddling my hips, moaning into my mouth. Suddenly, without my permission, my arms pushed Kurt off of me, causing him to give me a look of utmost confusion. I didn’t give him an explanation (as I had none), but just flipped us both over so I was on top, and kissed him on his open mouth, down his neck. My hands slid up, under his shirt, my thumbs brushing against his nipples. Kurt grunted at my touch, and I grinned at that. I pulled his shirt up and over his head, revealing the tiny body that he was so self conscious about.

He was so beautiful right then; the light hitting his pale skin just right, his lean muscles that looked so strong, yet seemed so fragile that if I even touched him, he would shatter. I stopped for a second, down on my hands and knees, just admiring him. It was in all seriousness a wonder that Kurt would want someone like me, a guy who’s tortured by his own mind every waking second of the day. I was grateful that he did want me, or else, I’d probably have been out of here a long time ago.

Yet, here I was, holding him in my arms, looking into his blue eyes. It was an amazing thing.

“OI!” A voice in my head interrupted. “Are you going to screw him or just write flowery poetry about him in your mind?” I sighed at the person working my brain. I couldn’t just have a moment to look at my boyfriend? According to my brain, I couldn’t.

“Are you alright, Dave? We can stop if you want…” Kurt looked up at me, his eyes harboring genuine concern. I shook my head.

“No, I’m good,” I answered, bringing my head back down to suck on the crook of his neck. “Just admiring how…”I licked his collar bone (yeah, I don’t know why either). “Absolutely hot you look under me.” Kurt smirked, leaning up to kiss me again.

“Don’t think that it’ll be that common of a sight, David Grohl,” He growled sexily, making me shiver (particularly in my pants). I grinned and kissed down his chest and stopping to make a slight lick at his stomach, causing Kurt to emit a girly yelp. Sometimes I thought that having Kurt for a boyfriend was just like having a girlfriend, but I didn’t mind.

Next thing I know, I’m taking his jeans into shaky hands and attempting to unbutton them, but my hands are so clammy from nerves that I can’t seem to do it. How embarrassing, right? I fiddle with the cursed button, telling it off in my brain. How dare it keep me from giving my boyfriend a belated birthday present?

The button is off, and it seems like slow motion that they come off. Or maybe it was. I think my heart stopped beating for a second or two. I had gotten one obstacle down, but there was still one more to go.

Remember how I said that right before telling Kurt that I loved him was the most nerve-wracking point in my life? I lied. This had taken the nerve-wracked cake. I leaned up to give Kurt one last kiss on his lips before I nearly ripped his boxers off of him. I looked down to see my boyfriend…er…standing at attention (I haven’t actually thought of many ways to say “boner”, leave me alone!). He wasn’t too big, but it wasn’t that small either. I guess it just works out that way. I have no idea why, but my mouth salivated looking at it. I guess I should take this as a sign of what to do next. I gently took it in my hand, kind of having no clue whatsoever on what I was doing. Stroking up and down, I kind of got a rhythm as if I were drumming. Kurt bucked his hips into my hand, so I guess he liked what I was doing. I wasn’t the king of hand jobs here, but I had a feeling of smug triumph somewhere deep inside me.

Out of the blue, though, I got a really strange urge to put Kurt’s penis in my mouth…so I did. It glided between my lips as the salty-sweet taste invaded my taste buds. I wouldn’t be able to describe the taste to you unless you’ve given a blowjob before, so I’m not going to waste my breath even trying. Gently, I closed my teeth the tiniest bit, making them scrape down the smooth, sensitive surface of Kurt’s cock. Kurt let out a long moan, his head leaning back as his hips bucked into my mouth, surprising me. My tongue ran over the soft underside as my teeth scraped; I hoped that it would be enough to satisfy Kurt because I don’t know any special tricks pertaining to blowjobs. After a while of rotating my head along with scraping my teeth and licking away at his penis, Kurt started to pant really hard.

“Dave…” he panted, “I think I’m gonna—“

BANG. The front door swung open as if we were in a horror movie as I looked to see what the noise was, Kurt’s penis coming out of my mouth with a squelching ‘pop’. I was mortified to see Krist’s tall, blocky frame in the doorway, looming over us like a mother catching her son and one of his friends in the (very innappropriate) act. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks as I meekly looked up at Krist and wished I could disappear.

It was quite possibly the most awkward experience that I’ve ever dealt with in my entire life. Krist stood and stared in shock at Kurt and me as we stared back. He looked at us and we looked at him. His stare burned into my back, and his gaping mouth gave him that dead-fish look he must have wanted so badly to achieve. That man still needs to learn how to not be creepy.

“D-D…uh…Would-…er….” Krist stuttered, attempting to state his reason for being here, but not quite getting the words out. “DAVE, DO YOU HAVE ANY EGGS?!” he suddenly shouted, making me jump at the sudden explosion of sound. I let the question process in my head. He came all the way to my house and nearly knocked the door off of its hinges, disturbing Kurt and I during a moment of intimacy to ask me if I had any eggs?! Seriously?! I sighed as Kurt shifted so he could pull up his pants.

“Go buy some at the store…” I reasoned with Krist, feeling like a mother avoiding the subject when her child catches her and Daddy having sex. Krist’s face brightened, like I had said something witty and profound.

“Oh, yeah! Thanks, Dave!”

Krist hurried out the door as Kurt buttoned his jeans. I turned back to face Kurt and lay with my head on his stomach.

“So…” Kurt said, sighing. “Do you want to go back to where we were?” I considered this option, but then turned it down.

“I’d rather just lay here with you.”

Kurt chuckled, and then put a hand on my head, gently stroking my hair. A few minutes of silence passed before Kurt fondly stated,

“Krist Novoselic, mood killer.”