Maybe Kurt instructed Ben to stay away, because the trainer didn't show up for lunch. Not that Jack cared, still processing their conversation.

At some other time, he'd take time to notice the way in which Kurt had known not only how to take the talk where he wanted, but especially what to say in order to direct Jack's attention to what would get him engaged.

Jack ate in silence, musing about the jigsaw puzzle Kurt had put together for him. A picture that showed him a whole different side of his situation. One appealing enough to completely change his perspective of his near future, now that he'd pretty much achieved his primal goal of getting the vaccine.

When he brought his eyes back from the beach outside the window, and his attention to the table, he realized Kurt hadn't said a single word. He had his laptop open by his dish and seemed busy replying to emails.

With that subtle skill to read Jack like an open book, he looked up from the laptop and raised his eyebrows, like inviting Jack to speak. Jack shook his head slightly.

"I'm taking the chance to take care of my other duties, but you know you can always consider me a live FAQ line, champ."

Jack kept eating in silence, a mild frown furrowing his brow.

"So what's next?" he asked. He knew he wouldn't like the answer, but he'd rather get a heads up than be caught off guard.

As usual, Kurt understood what he was talking about. "We're gonna use the next few days to get you used to the different positions and things clients might want to try. Our main focus is that you don't freak out like yesterday, and learn what clients expect from you. And if possible, that you find what works for you in order to get and stay hard while having something up your ass." Jack didn't like Kurt's apologetic smile. "And as soon as you get the green band, I'm afraid it'll be time to use your mouth, champ." The thought made Jack grimace and look away. "And all the while, you're gonna be watching videos to find patterns and recognize body language."

Jack only nodded. He tried to keep eating, but he'd lost his appetite. Not even the little fortune around Kurt's wrist seemed enough to make the glass look half-full.

"Cheer up, champ," he heard the man said in that gentle tone of his. "You got this."

He sighed, raising his eyebrows in doubt.

Back to his room, aired and tidy, he found the douche waiting for him on the vanity. Yay, he'd almost forgotten about it. Like the day before, a knock on his door stopped him from getting in the shower. This time, Kurt only flashed an amused smile at the towel around his hips.

"Here, I'm tired of seeing you wear those trunks," the man said, handing him a shop bag. He showed Jack the box in his other hand and winked. "I brought us a bunch of applicators. They're great," he said, producing one of the slim black tubes Jack had seen him and the Luke use the night before to apply lube. "See you at the gym, champ."

The shop bag contained three brand new swimming trunks like the one Jack had brought from Florida, all of them with the same kind of flashy print. Fifteen minutes later, he walked into the gym wearing one of them. Ben and Kurt waited at the back room, and the trainer motioned for him to get on the chair. Jack took his trunks off and lay back, covering his crotch with the towel Kurt handed him. He declined the sleeping goggles, keeping only his mask on.

Kurt had his laptop on the worktable, and resumed whatever he was doing while Ben started his massage. Despite all the things going around his head, Jack couldn't resist the relaxing effect of the lavender oil and the trainer's hands. By the time he rolled over to lie on his belly, he could hardly keep his eyes open, and he fell asleep in a few minutes.

To wake up to Kurt's gentle touch.

The room was cool and quiet, the smell of lavender still in the air. Jack's eyes fluttered open as his brain registered the firm hands running up the back of his thighs. They cupped his cheeks to brush them apart and retreated. He closed his eyes again, a part of him protesting his lack of reaction. Like reacting against it would make any difference.

However, the word reaction got back on the menu a moment later, when Kurt let oil drip between his cheeks and spread it all the way down to his butthole and his nuts. The man let out a soft chuckle, seeing Jack stick up his butt.

"Look at you," he said softly, letting his hand land on Jack's cock as the other opened flat on Jack's back to rub it up and down. "This is what you want?"

Jack nodded, keeping his butt up to let Kurt's fingers close around his cock and stroke it slowly. The thumb brushing the back of its head made him gasp. It was nice, letting his cock harden in somebody else's care. Kurt humored him for a whole minute.

"Roll over, champ," he whispered.

Too good to last. "I hate you," Jack grumbled, lying on his back.

"Your kinky junk doesn't think so," Kurt replied, grabbing Jack's stirring cock again. "Take the mask off, champ. I want you to breathe freely."

Jack did it, like having a tattooed sack of testosterone grasping his cock was the most natural thing in the world.

"Now curl up your legs," Kurt said, keeping his deep voice warm and low. "And don't go peanut on me."

Jack took over his cock with a lazy stroking, bringing his heels to the back of his thighs. Kurt folded half of the chair to stand before his legs and rested both hands on his knees. Jack spread them apart, and past his own crotch, he saw the bright dark eyes move all over his body. It wasn't the look he'd seen on the stream, whenever Kurt gazed upon his dear Evan, yet the spark was there. Enough for him. He didn't want the man's love, but his desire helped him play along.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes," Kurt murmured, always smiling. He reached for the armrest and showed Jack a strap. "Let's keep you like this," he said, fastening it around Jack's ankle. He reached for the other armrest and bent over.

"Fuck," Jack grunted when Kurt's mouth landed on his cock, licking it before straightening up.

Kurt winked at him as he fastened the strap to Jack's other ankle.

"Touch yourself for me, champ. No hurries, just to keep that demanding thing engaged."

Jack kept stroking his cock in the same casual, lazy way, while Kurt took his clothes off and fastened the strap-on around his hips, on top of his speedo. He went back between Jack's legs, bringing one of the slim tubes.

"And so my torture begins," he said, and his mocking smile turned into a chuckle when Jack smiled back at him.

Jack saw him crouch down and out of sight. He didn't get to wonder what Kurt was up to, because the man's tongue brushing his butthole up to his nuts answered his question alright.

His eyes refused to stay open, his fist tightening around his cock while Kurt transformed his whole groin into a single burning spot that made him gasp and his cock stir and wag. But only until a muffled moan escaped his lips. Then Kurt straightened up and Jack felt the slim tube against his flesh.

"Breathe," Kurt whispered.

Jack did and felt the cold thin thing enter his body to release a soft jet of lube inside of him. The oiled tip of the plug replaced it, brushing his hole.

"Ready, champ?"

"Never," Jack grumbled.

"Liar," Kurt replied, moving his hips forward.

Jack focused on breathing as the plug brushed its way in. The protesting part of him hated the way his body accepted the intrusion with nothing but a mild discomfort. He let his survival instinct explain to that thick part of himself that his lack of rejection was actually a good thing.

"Look at me, Jack," Kurt purred, pushing the plug in until the strap brushed Jack's cheeks.

Jack met his eyes still breathing deep. Kurt's hand closed around his fist to set it back in motion on his cock. His other hand traveled up Jack's body to his face. His thumb brushed Jack's lips apart.

"Keep them like that, so I can hear you," Kurt brought both his hands to rest on Jack's knees. "Now get hard on me."

His hips rocked slowly, moving the plug in and out in a smooth, gentle way. Jack was almost glad his body didn't feel the need to cringe around it, and he turned as much attention as he could to his cock, pacing up with his stroking.

"Don't ignore me," Kurt whispered, bringing one hand down to cup Jack's nuts. "Let it all become the same and turn you on."

He fondled Jack's nuts until his eyes closed with a soft grunt, then he rested both hands on Jack's ribs and moved them up to cup his pecs.

Jack let out a muffled moan when Kurt's fingertips pinched his nipples, teasing them in a way that made his chest pump up for more. And somehow he made it. He turned his mind into the necessary blank and let his body take control, trusting Kurt wouldn't let him come down. And Kurt didn't. The man licked his own fingers to keep teasing Jack's nipples, matching the rocking of his hips with Jack's stroking.

Jack shivered from head to toes when the wet fingertips brushed the tip of his cock before going back to his nipples. And when Kurt's hips moved faster, Jack's hand just followed and stroked faster too, harder, setting his crotch on fire. He heard Kurt breathe as heavily as him, as the man kept teasing him, pounding him.

"Come," he purred.

His deep, husky voice was the final push. Jack let go with a suffocated moan that Kurt echoed with a growl. He pulled the plug out right away and yanked the strap-on from around his hips, releasing Jack's ankles from the straps. Jack forced his eyes open, panting, and saw him bring a box of wet tissues to the chair, his other hand inside his speedo to bring his boner to a more comfortable position.

But it was his face that caught Jack's attention, the way the man looked at him with that little smile pursing his lips. Kurt stood by the chair, gazing down at Jack, who let his hands take care of cleansing his cock and themselves, unable to look away from the man.

To his shock, Kurt grabbed his face and bent over. Jack tried to push him away without being rude. Kurt's eyes met Jack's, always smiling.

"Humor me," he whispered. "We're not killing each other over this, and I've been wanting to do this for days."

Jack froze when Kurt kissed him, a swirl of sensations rioting inside of him. First of all, the instinctive rejection against being kissed by another man. And like a wave swelling on it, the pure thrill of a kind of contact he hadn't experienced in years. He let Kurt do, as incapable of kissing him back as he was of pulling away from those gentle lips that caressed his, not trying to force them.

Kurt moved away a moment later, brushing Jack's wet lips with his thumb and that warm, understanding smile on his face.

"Get dressed, champ. We're going to the beach," he said softly, smiling wider at Jack's puzzled frown.