Chapter 59: Golf
Nigel unlocked the door, and he and Kurt walked into the foyer of his sister's house. "Claire?"
"Mom! Uncle Nigel and Kurt are here!" Angie popped out of the living room, and skidded across the tile floor. Nigel scooped her up, and twirled her twice before handing her to his boyfriend. Kurt threw her up in the air, and set her down on her feet. Taking her hand in his, he turned her in a circle. "You cut your hair! Nice!"
"Yeah, and I got all new clothes for school. Want to see?"
"Of course." Kurt smiled as words bubbled out of Nigel's niece. By the time they reached her room, he knew her teacher's name, and what all her friends were wearing on the first day of school.
Nigel watched as his niece kidnapped his boyfriend, and then went looking for his sister. "Hey."
Claire closed the oven door, and turned. "Hey, yourself." She set the timer on the stove. "Where's Kurt?"
Nigel leaned against the counter and stole a piece of sliced pineapple. "Angie's showing him her school stuff. Where's Tommy?"
Claire moved the fruit plate to the table. "Defying gravity on his skateboard."
"Mom and Dad coming?"
"Yeah, I told them 11:30." Claire put a salad bowl on the counter. "How did you get Kurt here so early?"
Nigel took plates out of the cupboard, and started to set the table. "It wasn't easy. I had to get creative." He raised his eyebrows and smirked at his sister.
Claire laughed, and held her hands up. "Don't tell me. I don't want to know."
"Don't want to know what?" Kurt walked into the kitchen, and hugged Claire. "Hi."
Grinning, Claire stepped away from Kurt. "An alarm clock's not good enough for you, Kurt?"
Kurt turned on his boyfriend. "And you say your mother doesn't understand the concept of privacy?"
Claire smiled at Kurt as she tossed baby tomatoes into the salad bowl. "Oh, Nigel's not as bad as mom. She would have given me details. He just said that he had to get creative."
Kurt stepped in front of Nigel, and leaned back against him, as Nigel's arms encircled him. "Yes, he was creative." He leered at Claire. "And much more intimate than an alarm clock."
Claire tossed a handful of dried cranberries in the salad mix. "Mom's going to love you!"
"Get the BMW." Tommy poured syrup on his French Toast Casserole. "Depending on your mileage, they can go for a year or so without an oil change."
"Really?" Jack was perfectly happy with his Honda, but he was open to suggestion.
"Sure." Tommy shrugged. "They use synthetic oil, the same stuff jet engines use. Costs more but you don't have to take the car in so often."
Kate wasn't interested in synthetic oils. "Kurt, your application must have been impressive if Parsons accepted you. It's a prestigious design school."
"I don't know about impressive. I sent them pictures of some looks I put together in high school. Some vintage stuff I reworked, some things I designed myself."
"What's a design school?" Angie looked at Kurt but Tommy answered first.
"They teach you how to make clothes. Like Tom Ford."
Kurt looked over at Tommy, surprised. "You know Tom Ford?"
Tommy nodded, as he speared a piece of watermelon. "He's the guy in the ads with the naked women."
Kurt glanced at Nigel, and they grinned at each other. Nigel rolled his eyes, and mouthed the word 'straight'.
"Yes, he's a designer." Kurt turned to Angie. "A design school teaches you how to make clothes the way you think they should be. I get to decide if a shirt has a collar or not, or if it has buttons or a zipper, or what colour it should be."
Angie thought about that. "You mean new clothes that no one else has, ones that aren't in the store?"
Kurt nodded. "Yeah."
Angie looked at her mother, and grandmother, eyes wide with excitement, as she absorbed the implications. "Can you make clothes for girls?"
"Not yet. But I'm going to learn. That's why I'm going to Parsons."
"Awesome!"
It took a while, but the man behind the counter at Lunar Golf finally handed over 5 golf clubs with 5 score cards and 5 pencils. Jack helped Angie line up her ball, as Tommy waited impatiently. "Just hit it."
Nigel pushed his hand into the back of his nephew's head. Tommy grinned and pushed at his uncle's shoulder. They scuffled until Nigel got Tommy in a head-lock.
"Tommy, your turn." Jack and Angie moved out of the way, as Tommy dropped his ball. Jack showed Angie how to mark her score card, while they waited for Nigel and Kurt to take their shots.
At the second hole, Kurt and Nigel stood back waiting for the others to play first. Kurt looked around the garish indoor miniature golf space. It was dark, with neon lights that glowed eerily. Anything white tinted pink, even their teeth looked strange. It was like an explosion of Halloween or maybe a trip back to the psychedelic days of the seventies. He jumped as Nigel's hand unexpectedly traced a line down his back. Kurt turned, and Nigel smiled, and moved away. "My turn?"
By the 9th hole, Kurt was extremely thankful that the place was so damn dark. Nigel's fleeting surreptitious touches were making him crazy. He never knew when or where Nigel would sneak in a quick caress. Light touches along his thigh, nibbles to the back of his neck, strokes over his ass; nothing brazen enough for the others to notice, and that was exactly the turn on. It was juvenile and silly, and Kurt could have stopped it anytime he wanted to. But he didn't want to.
Waiting their turn at the 12th hole, Nigel just grinned at Kurt, and didn't move one inappropriate finger. At the 13th hole, he chatted with his father. Kurt totally choked his last shot, all his attention on Nigel. At the 14th hole, Nigel passed in front of his boyfriend to take his shot, and slid his hand along Kurt's fly, pressing against an already interested cock. Kurt gasped and tried to cover the sound with a cough. He glared at his boyfriend. Oh, you're so going to pay for that, Dennison.
Kurt spent the 15th and 16th holes missing every shot, and planning exactly what he was going to do with Nigel the minute he got him alone. At the 17th hole, Nigel stood behind Kurt, offering tips on correct club grip, standing way too close.
"You know, eventually, this game is going to end and we're going to be alone." Kurt managed to make the whisper sound like a threat.
Nigel groaned, as Kurt's tone sent tiny bolts of lightning through his cock. "I'm counting on it."
The 18th hole took forever, but the Neon Clown finally swallowed the last ball, and they handed their clubs to the attendant. They compared score cards, and declared Jack and Tommy tied in first place. Jack high-fived his grandson. "Celebration sundaes!"
Kurt shook his head. "Thanks but we've got to go. I promised my dad we'd spend some time with him." He hugged Angie. "I'll send you a picture of the first thing I design." He shook hands with Nigel's father, as Nigel hugged his niece and nephew. "Tommy, keep an eye on my dad for me. You know Carole doesn't want him eating fries when he's at the shop on Saturdays."
Tommy grinned. "We have a deal. He doesn't order any fries, and I let him eat some of mine. "
"Nice!" Kurt raised a hand, and Tommy smacked it.
Jack steered the kids to his Honda, and Nigel slid behind the wheel of their rental car. Kurt closed the passenger door, and clicked his seatbelt on. They both waved as they pulled out of the parking lot.
Nigel kept his eyes on the road. Kurt sat still beside him, and it was absolutely crazy, but Nigel could feel Kurt's hands on him, over him, in him. He changed lanes, praying that no one was home at Kurt's place.
"Turn at the lights."
Kurt's words snapped Nigel's head around to the man in the passenger seat. He frowned in confusion. "You house is this way."
"We're not going home. Turn at the lights."
Nigel knew these streets, he looked at his boyfriend, but Kurt didn't volunteer any information. McKinley was three blocks away, but Kurt wouldn't be taking them there?
"Turn into the parking lot." Kurt motioned with his hand, and Nigel turned the wheel. What were they doing here?
"Drive around to the student's parking lot."
Labour Day weekend, late Sunday afternoon, the place was deserted. School buses, empty and newly washed, stood in line beside the dumpsters at the back of the school, waiting for the kids and chaos of Tuesday morning. Kurt directed Nigel to back the car into the small space between the first bus and the dumpster. The compact rental was tiny and almost invisible lost in the shadows cast by the slanted roof of the school and the towering height of the bus. You'd have to be standing directly in front of the car to see it. They were as secluded as it was possible to be, while being in a public place in broad daylight. Nigel turned the key in the ignition, and the car went quiet, as the motor and radio cut off. He watched as Kurt opened the passenger door, stepped out of the car, closed the door with a soft snap, and walked around the front of the car. He opened the driver's door and waved Nigel out.
Kurt snapped the driver's door shut, and opened the door to the back seat. He locked eyes with Nigel, and nodded to the interior. "Hands and knees."
Nigel's eyes went wide, and his breath caught. This was the Kurt from their dressing room days. This was the Kurt that Nigel could never say no to. He ducked his head and scrambled onto the back seat. He felt Kurt move in behind him, and close the car door.
"Fold your arms in front of you. Put your head down on them." Kurt tugged Nigel's shorts down as he spoke; the quiet words the only sound in the world.
Nigel had barely got into position before Kurt's hand slammed down on him. No gentle caresses over his back or shoulders, no fingers teasing his cock, or slow warm up taps on his ass. Not the way Kurt usually did things at all; totally different and totally perfect. Nigel's head swam, as fire flared through his ass.
"Stealing touches while your family stood right beside us, Nigel." Kurt's words were just audible over the sound of skin on skin.
Nigel moaned, as he tossed his head on his arms. He arched his back offering more of his ass to his lover. "You loved it." He gasped the words out between slaps.
"Yes." Kurt nipped at Nigel's neck, as his hand fell over and over. Each slap scrupulously timed to let the pain morph into heated pleasure. "And you love this."
"Yes! God, Kurt! Please!" Nigel's cock was leaking beneath him, he needed, just needed. There was no room. The back seat was too damn small. And he didn't have any lube. Who needed lube to play Lunar Golf? Oh, god, he was never leaving the house again without a blister pack of lube. "Kurt! Fuck! Now! Please!"
The hand stopped its descent, and Nigel heard clothes rustling. "Come here." Kurt helped Nigel turn over. They knelt on the back seat, facing each other. Leaning into each other, they worked their cocks together. Hands coated with pre-cum created a cocoon of pleasure. Their hands moved in unison; skin and heat and friction, and them; only them, always them. Green eyes stared into crystal, until Kurt's lashes dropped and he slid his tongue between his boyfriend's lips. Nigel lapped and sucked at teeth, and tongue, and lips and then pulled away. He dropped his head onto Kurt's shoulder. "Close. Now."
Kurt nestled his head over Nigel's, and swept his hand over both glistening crowns. A twist of his wrist that Nigel copied, and they both came, collapsing against each other. Sliding down on the back seat, they sat close, their shoulders touching, heads thrown back against the seat, waiting to breathe without panting. Kurt threw one leg over Nigel's. Nigel slipped an arm around Kurt's back and nuzzled into the younger man's neck.
"Un-fucking-believable!" Nigel pressed a kiss to Kurt's neck.
Kurt rubbed his chin in Nigel's hair. "Yeah."
Nigel sat up, and grinned at Kurt. "Next time, we're renting an SUV!"