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She had wanted everything to be perfect.
Kurt had been away in Europe for just over a month, and the entire time had felt tortuously long, even given how many phone calls, texts, and emails had passed between them in them intervening time. He'd sent her pictures of things that reminded him of her, and every time one arrived she felt a new pang of missing. Ever since he'd come back from the grave, ever since their relationship had evolved from simple friendship to lovers, she'd felt disquiet when she was too far from him for too long, like if she let him out of her sight for too long he would disappear in a puff of smoke and never come back. The little digital tokens reminded her that she hadn't hallucinated his return, but also reminded her how much she longed for his presence.
But of course, because she had wanted so badly for everything to be perfect, it had more or less all fallen apart.
Work had crowded in on all angles, preventing her from being able to make the dinner she'd so hoped to be able to have ready--but at least she could call in for Thai from his favorite restaurant. When she'd finally retreated to his suite with dinner and the other accoutrements for the night, Lockheed had been very stubborn about following, convinced he deserved to sleep in the room if she did, which to be honest was probably her fault since she often did let him sleep in the sitting room area...but not tonight. It had taken far too long to get the message through the thick purple skull of the little dragon, and by the time Kitty was convinced she'd actually banished him for the night, it was nearly time that Kurt should be arriving.
She ripped a critical part of the support structure of the lingerie she'd bought to welcome him back with and no amount of frustrated slapping at it with her hands made it actually functional again. She was just about ready to throw the stupid thing into a wall when she got the text from Kurt saying that his plane from London had been delayed and he would be several more hours before he got home.
Kitty's frustration boiled over and she tossed the ruined nightie to the side, opting instead to dig one of Kurt's shirts from his closet and collapse on his bed to sulk her way all the way to sleep.
When she woke again, it was to the quiet sound of the door opening, the creak of wood on wood and the near-silent squeak of plastic, mismatched wheels. The sounds were faint, but Kitty's training had been thorough, and even with her eyes closed she knew it was Kurt arriving, pulling his suitcase behind him. He moved quietly naturally, but she knew intimately the sound of his unique feet hitting the carpet, the whisper of his tail against the walls when he wasn't mindful of it, the pattern of his breathing. She pretended she was still asleep as he passed through to the bedroom of the suite, leaving the suitcase in the front room. He paused, briefly, just before reaching the bed, and then he was sitting on her side of it, having swept aside the canopy curtain with his tail. Kitty rolled over to face him and opened her eyes.
His eyes were bright in the darkness, making it just a little bit easier to see he wore a few scattered parts of some sleek black suit--long sharp dress slacks and a vest over a rumpled white shirt--and that he was holding the ruined lingerie in one hand, expression wry. "Big plans tonight, Katzchen?"
Kitty couldn't help the breathless, exasperated laugh. "Yeah, well...I wanted to make sure you knew how happy I was that you're home. But that didn't work, I kinda messed the whole thing up and now look what I'm stuck with."
Kurt raised his eyebrows faintly, and set the lacey thing aside to pull the covers back with one big finger, taking his time in assessing her state of dress. When he looked back to Kitty's face, there was a faint heat in his eyes that hadn't been there before. "You know, you do not have to wear those things just to show me how much you missed me. I am quite happy to submit to the demonstration with you as you are." She could feel his tail slithering against the sheets of the bed, already seeking to get up to mischief.
She pushed herself upright, reaching out to touch Kurt's face almost hesitantly, like she was afraid he wouldn't be real when she tried to make contact. It was a foolish fear, of course--he was very real, as warm and velvet soft under her fingers as he'd ever been. Kitty laughed a little, pushing his hair behind the fine point of his ear and then letting her fingers dally there. Kurt's ears had always been especially sensitive. "I thought you would like that kind of thing. I thought maybe just for one night you wouldn't want plain ol' Kitty to come home to."
"Mmmm, ja, but it is not necessary. You realize it is 'plain ol' Kitty' that is the Kitty I fell in love with." He reached up to start undoing the buttons on his vest before Kitty shifted her attentions, batting his fingers away gently.
Instead, she undid them herself, taking her time with the procedure. Once the vest was open, she slipped her hands between it and his shirt, feeling the heat his body had pooled there and the accordion motion of his ribcage every time he breathed. "Plain ol' Kitty doesn't really share a lot in common with what's traditionally been 'your type', Fuzzy." Slowly, she let her fingers wander up his back and his shoulders, to push the vest down off of his arms.
His tail finally burrowed itself through the blankets, making contact with one ankle and making a loose loop around it. "I don't know if it has occurred to you, meine Liebe, that perhaps my previous relationships--if we can call them that--did not work out so well due to an exceptional amount of wrong-headedness about what is 'my type?'"
"And, what, now you've seen the light?" Maybe it was a dangerous line of conversation, to be inviting him to enumerate on her flaws after he'd spent so long away from her, but Kitty couldn't quite help herself, any more than she could help letting her fingers wander back to the collar of his shirt, shifting her weight so that she could straddle his legs while she started to undo the next set of buttons. He heat of his body near to hers was almost delicious, after having been gone for so long.
The fire in Kurt's eyes only burned brighter now, sprinkled with a generous helping of his innate impish nature. His hands came up to brace against her hips, fingertips slipping under the hem of the shirt to trace her skin just over the waistband of her underwear. "Jawohl. Katzchen, Katzchen. Doubt thou the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love."
She couldn't repress the sudden laugh, pulling back enough to look him in the face. "And how many girls did you quote that particular bit of Shakespeare at before now?"
"Just you."
That, she realized she was surprised to see in his face, was the honest answer, not the charmer side of the elf trying to get his way. She laughed again, happily, and paused halfway through unbuttoning his shirt to put a hand to each side of Kurt's face and draw him into a kiss.
Kurt was an uncommonly, almost unfairly good kisser. If pressed to answer, Kitty wasn't sure she could even say what he did differently that made him so good at it--but it didn't really matter. He kissed her like a man dying of thirst who has just come to the oasis. He left her breathless every time, heart fluttering like a schoolgirl with a crush, head wheeling as she tried to find right-side-up again. His mouth parted from hers little bit by little bit, like he couldn't quite bear to break the kiss all at once, and slowly Kurt started to trail lighter, smaller kisses, interspersed with occasional touches of his teeth, along her jaw and throat. Kitty's hands slid downwards again but her fingers fumbled on the buttons of his shirt. "You're distracting me."
The sound he made was utterly wicked, a low little rumble of a chuckle. His grip on her hips tightened, just faintly, and he slid his tail along her bare leg, fur tickling maddeningly, until the spade of it was high enough to slide up under one side of her underwear and start trying to pull them down. "You started it."
Kitty phased just the area around her hips, allowing Kurt to pull her underwear through her legs and toss it to the side. While he was occupied with the procedure, she finished unbuttoning his shirt and slipped her hands between the sides to touch his abdomen. Kurt was all muscle, very little of his body wasted on excess fat; the hard lines of his frame were made sleek by that fine, soft fur of his. She combed her blunt nails through it, faintly scratching at the skin beneath, and Kurt made a groan that was wordless, now, an inarticulate sound of sheer wanting. She moved her hand downwards, dallying around his waistband, hoping to elicit more of those sounds from him."I could stop, if you're complaining."
"No, no, nein, I am not complaining, Lieber Gott, I am not complaining." Kurt's tongue and teeth found the lobe of one ear and tugged gently. He moved his hands upwards, under her shirt, pressing his fingerprints into her skin just firmly enough to seem like he was trying to map the shape of her body all over again for memory and posterity. His tail circled around her waist again, possessively, and this time that misbehaving spade folded downward, its hidden dexterity put to good use as Kurt began to rub it insistently against her clitoris. Kitty had just enough attention span to fumble with his belt's buckle twice before she found herself offering one of those needy groans, and she gave up. Slipping her fingers beneath his waistband, she phased his belt, pants and underwear in one fell swoop, tossing them to the side so that they could end up in whatever arcane corner of the room her ruined lingerie had landed.
The first time that Kitty had seen Kurt naked--really, truly naked--she had been a little surprised. Not that he was uncircumcised; she'd been with other Europeans and had more or less expected that, but at the seeming disproportion between the parts of him that his underwear usually covered and the parts of him that it did not. Kurt was a lean man, a little shorter than what Kitty perceived to be the average, and it wasn't until she thought about how out-of-ratio his fingers and toes were that it occurred to her that other parts of him might work on the same scale. Now, however, it--like the rest of him--had become a welcome, beloved sight. While he used his hands to work her shirt up over her head, she cradled the weight of his arousal with one of her own. She ran her thumb gently from the tip down along the underside of his length, and Kurt's breath shuddered against her neck, the rhythm he'd kept up with his tail faltering. "Katzchen," He breathed her name, voice thick, "My wallet, we..."
The end table was closer, and she didn't move any more than was strictly necessary. Leaning over, Kitty's fingers fumbled once before catching on the drawer and yanking it open, retrieving one of the condoms scattered inside. Straightening, she ripped the packet open with her teeth and one hand, freeing the other arm so that Kurt could finish pulling her shirt away from her body. She almost couldn't focus, given the attention he was giving her with his tail, but focusing through overwhelming distraction was something she had a lot of practice with. She smoothed the condom down over his hardness, teasing him along the way, until he couldn't concentrate well enough to do anything but whisper his husky plea, "Kitty, please..."
She rocked up on her shins and knees, lifting her pelvis so that Kurt could use one hand to guide himself into her. The other he braced behind her upper back, pulling her forward against him so that he could press his face between her breasts and mouth against one in wet, fond kisses. Kitty lowered herself slowly, savoring the feel of him moving inside of her, until her pelvis met his and she could feel his heartbeat, quick and picking up speed, beating a tattoo within her. Kurt made a drawn-out, low-pitched sound of contentment, his tail tightening faintly around her waist.
The rhythm they set for themselves was more gentle than it wasn't, slow and deep and building momentum like an avalanche. Kurt showered her with attention, kissing at her collarbone and sternum, caressing her breasts with his soft, broad hands and whispering affections in hushed, heavily accented German. A warm fire started in the low of her body, where Kurt was, and started to spread, filling her belly, her limbs, her mouth with delicious, insatiable heat. She wrapped both hands around Kurt's head and shoulders, leaning down to nip at the outer edge of his ear, and he gave a sudden, soft cry, clutching at Kitty's body as if she could get any closer to him. His motions grew erratic, and his whole body began to tremble, just before she felt the familiar rush and warmth of him finding his release. His voice trembled as it left his body, pressed into the skin over her heart as he poured himself into her. Kitty let her weight drop as low as she could get it, driving Kurt as deep as he could possibly go, and the world went white-hot and roared with the supernova of her own climax. She clung to Kurt's body as she rode it out, fingers digging into the fur and skin of his back, and the whole time he continued to move his mouth along her breasts and shoulders, encouraging her.
When it was over, Kitty pressed her hands against Kurt's shoulders until he laid back on the bed, and immediately she burrowed the pair of them in under the covers, curling up in the hollow of his body, made between one arm and his side. She rested her face against his chest, drawing patterns in his fur with a free hand with the air of an old, familiar habit. He circled his tail around her as if corralling her in and made a soft sound of happiness. Kitty found herself laughing, quietly. "So. Do you feel properly welcomed home?"
He made a show of thinking about it for approximately five whole seconds. His voice had never before been warmer than it was when he spoke next. "Ja. I dare say I do."