Summary:
Driving down the highway while on vacation, Kurt notices how tense his husband looks and decides to try something he saw in a movie once to loosen him up. It does the job a little too well ...
Notes:
This is a re-write I decided to do for Halloween because I think it's really funny. XD Inspired by the movie 'Parenthood'. Mention of sexual content.
"That was the insurance agent," Sebastian says, putting his jacket around Kurt's shoulders and rubbing his husband's arms to keep the chill of the night air away. "They're sending a tow. We're gonna call an Uber to take us to the hotel, but they'll have a rental for us in the morning."
"That's … that's great," Kurt grumbles. "Just peachy."
Sebastian snickers. Kurt's cheeks flame red and he hangs his head. He can't look Sebastian in the eyes, but he also doesn't want to see Sebastian's baby - his Porsche Cayman - wrapped around the trunk of an ancient English Oak.
Kurt isn't angry at his husband. This isn't Sebastian's fault. And for as bad as this night has been, Kurt is more embarrassed than upset.
"Are you alright? Nothing hurts? Nothing broken?" Sebastian asks for the fifth time, and for the fifth time, Kurt answers, "Yeah … sure … great."
There's nothing else Kurt can think of to say. Physically, he's fine. Emotionally, he could live a hundred years and never, ever live this down.
Plus, Sebastian is being such a good sport about this.
That makes this whole situation suck worse.
They're supposed to be on vacation. They got Thomas excused from school and took one week away to visit Kurt's dad over Halloween. That way, Burt wouldn't have to travel hours to see his grandson dress in costume and go begging for candy.
But Kurt and Sebastian had ulterior motives. They planned this trip to Ohio to escape everything: PTA meetings, stress, Sebastian's ultra-needy clients, and Kurt's new winter clothing line, coming together slowly, but on time for the Vogue Winter Extravaganza.
They'd been traveling to the city more than normal, and they both agreed that they'd forgotten how crowded and hectic it could be, especially at the start of the holidays. It's just Halloween, but that's the top step of a slide that shoots straight into Thanksgiving, loop-de-loops for a few weeks, then slingshots into Christmas.
Isabelle is pretty good about leaving Kurt be when he needs time away and diverting business calls to his receptionist. But Sebastian's phone wouldn't stop ringing, which tends to happen when every client you have thinks they're your only client. He shut the damn thing off, but that didn't solve the problem. It only delayed it for a while. Once he turned it back on, he found he had a million messages, both text and voice, and in less than a minute, it began to ring again.
Sebastian had to change his ring tone. As much as he loves the song Running Home to You, he got sick of hearing it so much.
He didn't want this vacation to be the catalyst that made him hate it.
Driving down the interstate from the Hummel house to their hotel, Sebastian looked tense, gripping the wheel so tightly, Kurt thought he might tear it off the steering column. Kurt's dad and stepmom had noticed Sebastian on edge, too. They offered to take Thomas for the night, giving Kurt and Sebastian some alone time at their hotel.
But Kurt couldn't wait till they got there.
He had to do something. He'd never seen Sebastian so wound up.
He was afraid that if he didn't find a way to calm Sebastian down, he'd snap, veer off the highway in a rage, and drive straight into a tree.
Not really, but Kurt had an appreciation for the dramatic.
At most, Sebastian would get back to their room and spend the whole night watching Battlestar Galactica reruns on TV.
He'd been prescribed medication for a chronic case of stress-related acid reflux and had suffered three major bouts of insomnia since the beginning of the fiscal year. Kurt didn't want that to happen again, not here, where they had come back to the familiar to get away from it all.
Kurt had an idea, but he didn't know quite how to execute it. It wasn't exactly his idea. It came from an old movie his dad had been watching during A&E's Salute to Steve Martin. Kurt had rolled his eyes when he saw it, thought it immature and uncouth. But looking at Sebastian, a vein throbbing in his neck from the anxiety of phone call avoidance, Kurt thought he would give it a try.
What could it hurt?
Kurt had given Sebastian countless hand jobs while driving before. A blow job couldn't be much more difficult.
Sebastian was focused on the road, his brain caught in a web of issues that had nothing to do with Lima, Halloween, visiting his in-laws, or even Kurt. He didn't notice Kurt undo the buckle of his belt, unbutton the fly of his jeans, then sneak underneath his arm to get at his flaccid member. It took Kurt grabbing his husband's cock and sticking it in his mouth before Sebastian reacted, jumping at the unexpected sensation of hot and wet, then letting out a long gasp as that heat crept under his skin.
"God, Kurt," Sebastian moaned. "W-what are you doing? You can't … we shouldn't … be doing that now."
"Wow," Kurt mumbled. "That's quite a change of tune for the man who used to accept a b.j. pretty much anywhere."
"True, but I'm older. Wiser. Undecided as to whether or not I want my obituary to mention that this is how I died."
"You don't think you're a good enough driver to handle a little distraction?" Kurt looked up from Sebastian's lap, a half-smile on his moistened lips.
"I didn't say that." That, to Kurt, was as good as the go-ahead, and he went back to circling the head of Sebastian's cock with his tongue. "B-but …" Sebastian interrupted in a shuddering voice, "w-what if a cop notices your head in my lap and we get pulled over?"
Kurt climbed up Sebastian's chest - right hand stroking slowly, the fingers of his left threading into his husband's hair. "I'll just tell that nosy officer that I was sitting here beside my sexy husband, getting hard and bothered, and I couldn't help myself. I just had to have my mouth on him. Then I'd tell him to move along."
Sebastian smirked. "You'd say that, hmm?"
"You bet your gorgeous ass I would." And Kurt sank slowly back into his husband's lap to get his mouth around him again.
"But I wanna be able to properly enjoy it," Sebastian whined as his husband's talented tongue began long laps up and down his shaft.
"If you don't enjoy it," Kurt purred, "I promise a repeat performance back at the hotel."
"Mmm, I'm gonna hold you to that."
"Please do." Kurt paused a moment to kiss Sebastian gently down the length of his erection – soft little pecks he knew drove his husband wild. "So relax, keep your eyes on the road, and try not to kill us, okay?"
"O-okay," Sebastian agreed, adjusting his seat as far back as it would go and toeing the pedals to let Kurt work his magic.
Kurt hadn't meant to make this the best b.j. of Sebastian's life. He didn't even think that was possible at this point in Sebastian's sexual life. He had hoped to keep his husband at a low boil, relax him but leave him a horny mess so that when they got back to their room, the real fun could begin. But Sebastian sounded like he was enjoying it so much, that he was so desperate to cum, it spurred Kurt on. He found himself doing everything he could to make his husband moan louder, buck up into his mouth, swear like a sailor.
It didn't take long to get Sebastian to the point where he was shallowly, but rhythmically, snapping his hips. And even though Kurt had intended on torturing him all the way back to their hotel, he was kind of relieved. He had heard Sebastian's car engine rev twice now. Kurt couldn't get a good look at the speedometer, but he had a feeling his husband might be exceeding the speed limit.
"Oh, God, Kurt. I'm … I'm cumming, Kurt. I'm …" It was at the moment of his fantastic climax that Sebastian shut his eyes for a split second, opening them when a horn honked too loud and much too close for comfort. Sebastian turned the wheel abruptly, swerving out of the path of oncoming traffic and plowing into a tree. How ever he hit the aged oak, the airbags malfunctioned, which turned out to be a blessing since the force behind one of those deploying might have snapped Kurt's neck. As it was, Sebastian had managed to slow down enough that, even though the damage to the vehicle looked tremendous, the two shaken men were able to unbuckle their seat belts and exit the car.
Kurt's mother always said that a separate God looked after fools and children.
Kurt peeks up at the smoking remains of Sebastian's demolished engine.
Kurt is a thirty-five-year-old man. That definitely makes him a fool.
Flashing lights approach from the slow lane and pull up beside Sebastian's wrecked Porsche. Kurt knew a highway patrol officer would probably be along any time, but he still didn't want to have to face up to what happened. Not to a man with a badge and a gun.
The officer doesn't get out of his patrol car right away, which unnerves Kurt. But he has to remember that the man has things he has to do first: run Sebastian's plates, check the secret police database to make sure it's not stolen, that two men fitting their descriptions aren't wanted by the law. When the officer does leave his car, he has in his possession the brightest flashlight Kurt has ever seen. He shines it almost in their eyes, its beam bouncing from Sebastian, who raises a hand and waves; to Kurt, who nods solemnly and looks down at his shoes; to the once immaculate black car, folded almost in half. Luckily, no one had pulled over with them, either to help them or harass them, so the only two people who know what happened are Kurt and Sebastian.
And Kurt intends on taking this to his grave.
"Good evening," the officer says. "You gentlemen look like you got yourselves into a bit of trouble."
"Yes, sir," Sebastian says. "I'm afraid we did."
"Are either of you hurt? Do you need medical attention?"
Kurt curls in on himself further, but Sebastian shakes his head, cool and calm, as if his husband isn't trying to disappear into his own skin like the house at the end of the movie Poltergeist that crumbled inside out before blinking out of existence.
"No," Sebastian answers. "Luckily, we both came out okay. Not even a scratch."
"That's good to hear." The officer approaches them, wearing a genuine-enough smile. "Do you need a tow truck?"
"No." Sebastian continues to carry the conversation while Kurt, maintaining a low profile, is quietly impressed by how collected his husband sounds. Maybe that blow job helped a little. Kurt has that to be proud of. It probably wasn't worth a $60,000 car, though. "I contacted my insurance company. They're sending a tow."
"Great. In that case, can either one of you tell me what happened?"
Sebastian glances sideways at his mortified husband, a smile on his lips hiding multiple embarrassing remarks at Kurt's expense.
"Uh, do you want to tell him what happened, Kurt?" Sebastian asks. "You did say that you'd handle it."
"No," Kurt replies quietly, holding himself tighter, thinking that now is not the appropriate time for his husband to be teasing him. Though, if Kurt had stuck to what was appropriate and waited till they got to their hotel room before deep-throating his husband, they might not be in this mess. "No, I do not."