Chapter 49: Hurt
Nigel didn't answer. He threw back the bed covers, and grabbed the cordless from the make-shift night table.
Mystified, Kurt stared at his boyfriend. "What are you doing?"
"Calling Claire." Nigel bit the words out, his attention on the numbers he was punching into the phone.
"Nigel, it's after 11."
Nigel barked a laugh. "Believe me, she's expecting this call."
"Hello."
Nigel didn't even bother with a greeting. "What the hell do you think you're doing Claire? Bringing Dad here? Are you crazy?"
Kurt watched as Nigel ranted. He couldn't hear what Claire was saying, but it didn't matter, Nigel wasn't letting her talk anyway.
"No way! I'm not having dinner with him. I won't subject Kurt to that… Does he even know that Kurt is here with me?"
Nigel listened for a second, and cut Claire off again. "What did he say?" Nigel paced the bedroom. "Oh, my god, Claire! Do you hear yourself? How is not saying anything, trying?"
Nigel slumped down on the bed next to Kurt. "I know, I know. Well, maybe I can meet Mum for lunch or something." Nigel frowned, as Claire talked. He took his glasses off, and rubbed his eyes. He looked defeated, somehow, and hurt.
Kurt reached out and took Nigel's hand, squeezing gently. He had no idea what was going on, but Nigel was never supposed to look like this, ever. Nigel dredged up a simile of a smile for Kurt. "Of course, the kids want to see Kurt. He wants to see them." Nigel shook his head. "No way, Claire, not happening. I can't spend a day with him, never mind a weekend. My god, I can barely get through Thanksgiving dinner with the man."
Nigel threaded his fingers through Kurt's, as he listened to his sister. "Yes, I'll talk to Kurt, but I'm not changing my mind, Claire." Nigel ended the call and slammed the phone back into its base. He looked at Kurt, emotions chasing each other across his face; anger, frustration, hurt.
Kurt wrapped himself around his boyfriend. Nigel burrowed into Kurt, arms holding the younger man painfully tight. Kurt held Nigel, offering the only comfort he could, until he knew what the problem was.
Nigel sighed, releasing Kurt. "Sorry."
"Love means never having to say you're sorry." Kurt quoted Love Story, a teasing smile on his lips.
Nigel didn't recognize the quote, but he knew what Kurt was trying to do, and he was grateful. He made a minor production of putting his glasses back on.
"Long story?" Kurt purposely kept his voice light, Nigel was dealing with enough of his own emotions, he didn't need any more.
Nigel grimaced. "You could say that."
Kurt nodded. "Then we need some hot chocolate." Kurt hopped off the bed. "I'll be right back."
He wasn't gone long, or maybe he was, Nigel didn't know, too caught up in the drama in his head.
Kurt handed Nigel one mug, then settled in against the pillows with his own. "Tea is the classic drink for emotional upheaval but I am a big believer in the restorative power of chocolate." He sipped his drink, and waited for Nigel to be ready to talk.
Nigel held the mug with both hands, letting the heat seep into his skin. It was comforting, the proverbial fire in the dark of night. "Remember that first time we went for coffee? I said you were brave for being out in high school; that I hadn't come out until college." Staring into his hot chocolate, Nigel felt, rather than saw, Kurt nod. "What I didn't say, was that it wasn't the slushy facials that stopped me, or the consistent harassment." Nigel looked at Kurt, eyes haunted by old memories. "I wasn't out in school, because I couldn't be out at home. I couldn't tell my father. I don't know why, but I always felt that he couldn't accept it, accept me."
Kurt moved closer to Nigel, their legs touching under the blankets, offering silent support. He didn't interrupt him; Nigel needed to talk, and Kurt needed to know.
"So, I went away to college, and I just never went home. I always found some excuse, a paper, a project, a part-time job. Claire found out by accident." Nigel took a sip of his by now, not so hot, hot chocolate. "I came back to my dorm room, with some guy I had hooked up with at an econ beer bash. We were all over each other as we fell through the door to my room. And there was Claire, sitting on my bed waiting for me." Nigel looked at Kurt, his mouth tipped into a smile. "I don't know who was more surprised! I didn't know she was coming, obviously. Her marriage was starting to fall apart, and she needed someone to talk to. I asked her not to tell our parents, and she didn't."
Nigel reached for Kurt's hand, and twined their fingers together. "I'd like to tell you that I grew up; that I decided that I could only respect myself if I was honest, with everyone, even my father. But that's not what happened. One night, after being dumped by my boyfriend of a whole three months, and polishing off a bottle of tequila, I sent my parents a very informative email." Nigel's hand tightened around Kurt's. "My father hasn't looked me in the eye since then."
Nigel sat back against the headboard. "He didn't disown me, or stop helping with tuition. No big screen drama. But he doesn't want to know. He won't talk about it, or let me talk about it. I don't even know why he hates it so much. He's not religious. He's not your typical homophobe. I've never heard him say anything negative about homosexuality; no slurs, no stupid jokes.
Nigel put his mug down on the floor beside the bed, and took Kurt's and put it on the make-shift night table. He slid down the mattress, crawling into Kurt; his head in the younger man's lap. "He's ashamed of me, Kurt, and that hurts."