Doug & Darcy | Minigolf
Nov. 2nd, 2021 06:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsDarcy owes Doug a forfeit. He'll collect on it... eventually.
There was definitely a little bit of extra something in Doug's step as he walked down to get Darcy for their date. Excitement, anticipation, eagerness, all of the above and more. Given that they'd talked about revisiting their discussions about sex after the events in Baltimore, it didn't take much thinking to figure out where the evening was probably going to end. More a question of which bedroom.
Doug had dressed warm and casual - a henley with a luxuriously soft cableknit sweater on top, jeans and hi-top Converse. He rapped his knuckles on Darcy's door and grinned as he waited.
"It's open!"
Darcy's back was to the door, one booted foot propped on a chair as she tightened the laces. "Hey honey, I'll be done lacing these up in a minute, old one decided to snap on me." She gave them a last tug, tying them into place before standing. "Oooh, pulled out the handsome and the soft tonight, you big tease."
"Ugh, broken laces are the worst," Doug said, a double check down at his own feet to see if his were still okay. "It's like, here, get the aglets through these little tiny holes, and oh by the way you better have made sure to keep everything even or you'll wind up with like an inch of lace on one side and have to do it alllll over again." He leaned in and kissed Darcy on the cheek. "You look pretty cute yourself," he told her.
Darcy slid her hands up his sweater, resisting the urge to rub her face on it. "We don't have to go out, I could just sit here and touch your sweater for the evening," she replied with a small laugh. "This is softer than some of my blankets, I want a dozen of them."
Doug laughed along with her. "Sometimes it makes me feel like I should be staring off into the middle distance of some ridiculously green Irish countryside while some mournful sounding pipes are playing in the background." He was tempted by the idea of staying in, especially given the past few days, but he also really wanted to go out, eat something delicious, and have fun with Darcy. "Maybe I'll let you wear it later."
Darcy's eyes darkened at the idea. "Dangerous territory, but I would be very snuggly and cute in it." She slipped her jacket on, grabbing Doug's hand as they headed out the door. "So what's the plan for tonight?"
Dangerous territory indeed, because now Doug was picturing her wearing the sweater and very little else. He squeezed her hand as they walked. "I was thinking since we did the hayride and diner, we'd just continue the 'horribly cliche teenager' theme and do dinner and minigolf." He'd found a course with good reviews that boasted a larger variety of features than the typical course, and he was looking forward to just how competitive the night was likely to get. "Italian sound good?"
"Italian and minigolf sound great. I'd say I'm going to kick your ass, but minigolf and my hand-eye coordination are very hit or miss. Food or play first?" She phrased it deliberately, keeping her face neutral.
"You're just determined to make everything an innuendo, aren't you," Doug said, not really asking. He was very familiar with how Darcy was by now, it was one of the things he liked so much about her. "Dinner first, it's on the way to the minigolf. Total hole in the wall, they even have those red and white checked tablecloths." He considered. "I am not doing a Lady and the Tramp with you."
"Way less romantic in real life," Darcy agreed. "If you want to do the cute food sharing thing, spaghetti is probably in the top 5 of bad choices, unless the idea is to end up looking like toddlers playing with their food." She pinched Doug's leg from her spot in the passenger seat, voice prim. "This coming from a man who could probably be dying and still shout PHRASING at the rest of us."
Doug pursed his lips and pulled his leg back from the pinch. "Plus, if you're gonna do food sex, it probably shouldn't be at the restaurant. Or involve marinara sauce." Doug drove along, his eyes on the road even if he wanted to have them on Darcy. "But I don't have to make -everything- an innuendo, I just point out when people are putting up the stuff that's really easy to take a different way." He stuck his tongue out briefly.
"Don't stick it out unless you plan on using it," Darcy sang at Doug, following up with a kissy face. "Marinara's probably not the worst thing I can think of, but definitely not a great choice, no. Or at the restaurant, though I'm not opposed to trading bites."
Doug didn't even bother with words in reply to Darcy's comment on 'using it', he just gave her a very intense look that faded off into a smirk.
***
Dinner had been fun, albeit a bit more of the charged innuendo reminiscent of the gala than the more relaxed vibe they'd been cultivating.
Darcy stared at the minigolf course warily. "I should probably just go ahead and ask the front counter for a few extra balls. I can already point out a few places where I'm probably going to lose one." Her voice was only mildly self-deprecating, and she gave Doug a grin. "What about you, hotshot? Think you can make it through with only one ball?"
Doug was trying hard not to smirk or say 'phrasing' to every single thing Darcy said, and to be honest he wasn't entirely sure what percentage of the comments were accidental versus how many were deliberate, because either way she just tended to roll with his reactions. "I think I'll be okay with what I've got," he told her confidently.
Darcy wrapped her arms around Doug's waist as they waited in line for the counter. "Care to make that a friendly wager, then? If you're right, I owe you a favor or penalty. If I'm right, you owe me. Lighthearted with minimal humiliation factor, obviously." She'd let him set something specific if he wanted, but was fine with offering without.
"Hm. How about we make it more of an even playing field, so the whole thing isn't on me?" Doug countered. "Whoever uses the least number of replacements wins, with a bonus if you don't lose any at all?" Though that might favor him more, unless Darcy was sandbagging, which was always possible.
"I don't take losing bets unless I want to lose, and I can't remember the last time I didn't lose a ball to a water feature. But I'm sure we can come up with something else." Darcy gave Doug a smacking kiss on the cheek as she grabbed a purple club, politely asking for three golf balls.
Doug took his one and a lime green putter. Thank god for image inducers, otherwise he'd have had to look like some ridiculous PGA nut with a golf glove covering the prosthetic or something. It was easier to hide one hand at a restaurant than on a minigolf course. "Well, that's what handicaps are for in golf, after all, so how about I spot you those three, and the first one to head back to the clubhouse loses a forfeit?"
"Acceptable terms." Darcy hooked her club over her shoulder, following Doug to the first hole and motioning for him to go first.
"You just want to stare at my ass," Doug mock accused Darcy before sauntering to the tee box and making a show of bending over slowly to place his ball, straightening up, and then waggling his lower body as he lined up his putter.
"I do appreciate it." Darcy's grin was wide, and she waited for Doug to set before casually saying, "I just prefer letting my partners come first, that's all."
Doug didn't quite knock the ball off the green, but his putt was definitely off center. He should have honestly been expecting it, knowing Darcy. "So that's how this is going to go," he murmured, brushing his hand across Darcy's rear as she moved to replace him, before letting the hand dip almost scandalously low between her legs and then stepping back.
Darcy's squeak of surprise was completely unfeigned. "There are children here," she hissed over her shoulder as she set her ball down and gently knocked it forward. A bounce forward, knocking into the side before cutting across the green. She pointed a stern finger in Doug's direction. "If you get us thrown out for being indecent, you definitely owe me a forfeit."
Doug waited until the third tee, when the family in front of them had moved on a few more holes away, and the rowdy group of teenagers behind them was taking a bit more time to play through, before he brought out the real dirty play. As Darcy was just about to hit her second putt, he put his hand in his pocket and thumbed his phone. "Doug, -please-," came Darcy's husky voice out of his phone.
"Sending you that was a mistake," she muttered, watching her ball sail over the ramp and onto the sidewalk. "Sorry about that, got startled!" she called cheerfully to the folks standing near it as she walked over and scooped it up.
"Dirty pool, old man."
"Is there any other kind, miss 'I prefer letting my partners come first'?" Doug's voice was mild compared to the heat in his eyes as he and Darcy bantered back and forth. "That might have to wind up being the stakes for the evening," he decided.
Darcy smirked, voice low and throaty as they moved along the course. "I wasn't planning on playing that dirty, but if you insist."
Doug snorted, clearly not believing her. "With as competitive as we both get, it was always headed this direction."
"Oh, I was definitely planning to flirt and tease a bit, but we are in public." Darcy kept her tone even, lightly bumping Doug's hip with her own. "Take your shot, Mr. Competitive."
"Eh, being in public is part of what makes it more fun, sometimes," Doug noted. Still, he turned to prep his shot, still waiting for Darcy to pull some kind of prank on him.
"Sometimes," Darcy agreed. "The Gala was excellent for.. competitive stakes." She took her own shot, sighing when it plopped into the water and drifted away. "Every. single. time."
"Obligatory reference to balls getting wet," Doug noted, the meta-reference hopefully designed to keep things playful and take the sting out of any teasing. "One down, two to go?"
"If you run out of your own, store bought is fine?" Darcy reached up, ruffling Doug's hair with a laugh. "I'd tell you to offer a lady your spares, but I'm a little rough on my balls."
Doug laughed as well. "You can be as rough as you want on your own, so long as you're a bit more careful with mine." He waited for Darcy to drop her second ball on the course. "Play it as it lies, sweetie."
Darcy tapped more gently the second time, smiling in satisfaction as the ball safely got past the water. "Aww, someone can't handle a little rough play? Pity, guess I'll have to save that for elsewhere."
Doug had no difficulty getting his own past the water hazard. "Nah, you can be a little rough, just so long as you aren't yeeting them off where they can't be found."
"You'd have to do something pretty awful for that, so try not to, yeah?" The next bit of the course had a hill. "The worst thing about these hilly ones. If you play too hard, your ball just -poof- gone, possibly in a tree or messing up someone else's game or worse. Too soft and it keeps rolling back to you instead of getting you where you want to be."
Ah, the anthill. Staple of the minigolf course. Doug took a long moment to examine the slopes and angles, and then confidently swung a measured stroke at his ball, which went up, losing speed at the top...and then dropped into the hole. "You just gotta have the right touch, darlin'," he drawled low in Darcy's ear as he stepped aside for her to take her turn.
Darcy shivered at the low voice in her ear. "Sadly, my touch is more soft finesse, not swinging the biggest club in the room." She tapped the ball, watching it climb the hill. It came to a wobbly stop for a second, and her face lit up before drooping as it rolled back down the hill and into her feet. "Well, at least I didn't lose that one to the trees."
By the time they reached the eighteenth, Darcy had lost one more to the whims of the course. A stream with a bit of metal to guide balls ran down a hill to the end. "So this one's for all of it, looks like," Doug told her with a grin.
"Do you try to jinx me on purpose, or is it just a gift?" Darcy asked mostly rhetorically a few minutes later as the ball disappeared into the brush. "I'm half tempted to make you chase it down, but seems I owe you a forfeit."
Doug's ball did not get lost, and he dumped it into the ball return with a bit of satisfaction. "Well, now I'll have to decide what that forfeit will be," he said, resting his chin on Darcy's shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her waist.
Darcy leaned into his hold with a sigh. "We didn't set a time limit, so you've got plenty of that. For now though.. turn in our clubs and head home?"
"And see what other kinds of mischief might happen? Sounds good to me." Doug slipped his hand into Darcy's as they returned to the counter.
There was definitely a little bit of extra something in Doug's step as he walked down to get Darcy for their date. Excitement, anticipation, eagerness, all of the above and more. Given that they'd talked about revisiting their discussions about sex after the events in Baltimore, it didn't take much thinking to figure out where the evening was probably going to end. More a question of which bedroom.
Doug had dressed warm and casual - a henley with a luxuriously soft cableknit sweater on top, jeans and hi-top Converse. He rapped his knuckles on Darcy's door and grinned as he waited.
"It's open!"
Darcy's back was to the door, one booted foot propped on a chair as she tightened the laces. "Hey honey, I'll be done lacing these up in a minute, old one decided to snap on me." She gave them a last tug, tying them into place before standing. "Oooh, pulled out the handsome and the soft tonight, you big tease."
"Ugh, broken laces are the worst," Doug said, a double check down at his own feet to see if his were still okay. "It's like, here, get the aglets through these little tiny holes, and oh by the way you better have made sure to keep everything even or you'll wind up with like an inch of lace on one side and have to do it alllll over again." He leaned in and kissed Darcy on the cheek. "You look pretty cute yourself," he told her.
Darcy slid her hands up his sweater, resisting the urge to rub her face on it. "We don't have to go out, I could just sit here and touch your sweater for the evening," she replied with a small laugh. "This is softer than some of my blankets, I want a dozen of them."
Doug laughed along with her. "Sometimes it makes me feel like I should be staring off into the middle distance of some ridiculously green Irish countryside while some mournful sounding pipes are playing in the background." He was tempted by the idea of staying in, especially given the past few days, but he also really wanted to go out, eat something delicious, and have fun with Darcy. "Maybe I'll let you wear it later."
Darcy's eyes darkened at the idea. "Dangerous territory, but I would be very snuggly and cute in it." She slipped her jacket on, grabbing Doug's hand as they headed out the door. "So what's the plan for tonight?"
Dangerous territory indeed, because now Doug was picturing her wearing the sweater and very little else. He squeezed her hand as they walked. "I was thinking since we did the hayride and diner, we'd just continue the 'horribly cliche teenager' theme and do dinner and minigolf." He'd found a course with good reviews that boasted a larger variety of features than the typical course, and he was looking forward to just how competitive the night was likely to get. "Italian sound good?"
"Italian and minigolf sound great. I'd say I'm going to kick your ass, but minigolf and my hand-eye coordination are very hit or miss. Food or play first?" She phrased it deliberately, keeping her face neutral.
"You're just determined to make everything an innuendo, aren't you," Doug said, not really asking. He was very familiar with how Darcy was by now, it was one of the things he liked so much about her. "Dinner first, it's on the way to the minigolf. Total hole in the wall, they even have those red and white checked tablecloths." He considered. "I am not doing a Lady and the Tramp with you."
"Way less romantic in real life," Darcy agreed. "If you want to do the cute food sharing thing, spaghetti is probably in the top 5 of bad choices, unless the idea is to end up looking like toddlers playing with their food." She pinched Doug's leg from her spot in the passenger seat, voice prim. "This coming from a man who could probably be dying and still shout PHRASING at the rest of us."
Doug pursed his lips and pulled his leg back from the pinch. "Plus, if you're gonna do food sex, it probably shouldn't be at the restaurant. Or involve marinara sauce." Doug drove along, his eyes on the road even if he wanted to have them on Darcy. "But I don't have to make -everything- an innuendo, I just point out when people are putting up the stuff that's really easy to take a different way." He stuck his tongue out briefly.
"Don't stick it out unless you plan on using it," Darcy sang at Doug, following up with a kissy face. "Marinara's probably not the worst thing I can think of, but definitely not a great choice, no. Or at the restaurant, though I'm not opposed to trading bites."
Doug didn't even bother with words in reply to Darcy's comment on 'using it', he just gave her a very intense look that faded off into a smirk.
***
Dinner had been fun, albeit a bit more of the charged innuendo reminiscent of the gala than the more relaxed vibe they'd been cultivating.
Darcy stared at the minigolf course warily. "I should probably just go ahead and ask the front counter for a few extra balls. I can already point out a few places where I'm probably going to lose one." Her voice was only mildly self-deprecating, and she gave Doug a grin. "What about you, hotshot? Think you can make it through with only one ball?"
Doug was trying hard not to smirk or say 'phrasing' to every single thing Darcy said, and to be honest he wasn't entirely sure what percentage of the comments were accidental versus how many were deliberate, because either way she just tended to roll with his reactions. "I think I'll be okay with what I've got," he told her confidently.
Darcy wrapped her arms around Doug's waist as they waited in line for the counter. "Care to make that a friendly wager, then? If you're right, I owe you a favor or penalty. If I'm right, you owe me. Lighthearted with minimal humiliation factor, obviously." She'd let him set something specific if he wanted, but was fine with offering without.
"Hm. How about we make it more of an even playing field, so the whole thing isn't on me?" Doug countered. "Whoever uses the least number of replacements wins, with a bonus if you don't lose any at all?" Though that might favor him more, unless Darcy was sandbagging, which was always possible.
"I don't take losing bets unless I want to lose, and I can't remember the last time I didn't lose a ball to a water feature. But I'm sure we can come up with something else." Darcy gave Doug a smacking kiss on the cheek as she grabbed a purple club, politely asking for three golf balls.
Doug took his one and a lime green putter. Thank god for image inducers, otherwise he'd have had to look like some ridiculous PGA nut with a golf glove covering the prosthetic or something. It was easier to hide one hand at a restaurant than on a minigolf course. "Well, that's what handicaps are for in golf, after all, so how about I spot you those three, and the first one to head back to the clubhouse loses a forfeit?"
"Acceptable terms." Darcy hooked her club over her shoulder, following Doug to the first hole and motioning for him to go first.
"You just want to stare at my ass," Doug mock accused Darcy before sauntering to the tee box and making a show of bending over slowly to place his ball, straightening up, and then waggling his lower body as he lined up his putter.
"I do appreciate it." Darcy's grin was wide, and she waited for Doug to set before casually saying, "I just prefer letting my partners come first, that's all."
Doug didn't quite knock the ball off the green, but his putt was definitely off center. He should have honestly been expecting it, knowing Darcy. "So that's how this is going to go," he murmured, brushing his hand across Darcy's rear as she moved to replace him, before letting the hand dip almost scandalously low between her legs and then stepping back.
Darcy's squeak of surprise was completely unfeigned. "There are children here," she hissed over her shoulder as she set her ball down and gently knocked it forward. A bounce forward, knocking into the side before cutting across the green. She pointed a stern finger in Doug's direction. "If you get us thrown out for being indecent, you definitely owe me a forfeit."
Doug waited until the third tee, when the family in front of them had moved on a few more holes away, and the rowdy group of teenagers behind them was taking a bit more time to play through, before he brought out the real dirty play. As Darcy was just about to hit her second putt, he put his hand in his pocket and thumbed his phone. "Doug, -please-," came Darcy's husky voice out of his phone.
"Sending you that was a mistake," she muttered, watching her ball sail over the ramp and onto the sidewalk. "Sorry about that, got startled!" she called cheerfully to the folks standing near it as she walked over and scooped it up.
"Dirty pool, old man."
"Is there any other kind, miss 'I prefer letting my partners come first'?" Doug's voice was mild compared to the heat in his eyes as he and Darcy bantered back and forth. "That might have to wind up being the stakes for the evening," he decided.
Darcy smirked, voice low and throaty as they moved along the course. "I wasn't planning on playing that dirty, but if you insist."
Doug snorted, clearly not believing her. "With as competitive as we both get, it was always headed this direction."
"Oh, I was definitely planning to flirt and tease a bit, but we are in public." Darcy kept her tone even, lightly bumping Doug's hip with her own. "Take your shot, Mr. Competitive."
"Eh, being in public is part of what makes it more fun, sometimes," Doug noted. Still, he turned to prep his shot, still waiting for Darcy to pull some kind of prank on him.
"Sometimes," Darcy agreed. "The Gala was excellent for.. competitive stakes." She took her own shot, sighing when it plopped into the water and drifted away. "Every. single. time."
"Obligatory reference to balls getting wet," Doug noted, the meta-reference hopefully designed to keep things playful and take the sting out of any teasing. "One down, two to go?"
"If you run out of your own, store bought is fine?" Darcy reached up, ruffling Doug's hair with a laugh. "I'd tell you to offer a lady your spares, but I'm a little rough on my balls."
Doug laughed as well. "You can be as rough as you want on your own, so long as you're a bit more careful with mine." He waited for Darcy to drop her second ball on the course. "Play it as it lies, sweetie."
Darcy tapped more gently the second time, smiling in satisfaction as the ball safely got past the water. "Aww, someone can't handle a little rough play? Pity, guess I'll have to save that for elsewhere."
Doug had no difficulty getting his own past the water hazard. "Nah, you can be a little rough, just so long as you aren't yeeting them off where they can't be found."
"You'd have to do something pretty awful for that, so try not to, yeah?" The next bit of the course had a hill. "The worst thing about these hilly ones. If you play too hard, your ball just -poof- gone, possibly in a tree or messing up someone else's game or worse. Too soft and it keeps rolling back to you instead of getting you where you want to be."
Ah, the anthill. Staple of the minigolf course. Doug took a long moment to examine the slopes and angles, and then confidently swung a measured stroke at his ball, which went up, losing speed at the top...and then dropped into the hole. "You just gotta have the right touch, darlin'," he drawled low in Darcy's ear as he stepped aside for her to take her turn.
Darcy shivered at the low voice in her ear. "Sadly, my touch is more soft finesse, not swinging the biggest club in the room." She tapped the ball, watching it climb the hill. It came to a wobbly stop for a second, and her face lit up before drooping as it rolled back down the hill and into her feet. "Well, at least I didn't lose that one to the trees."
By the time they reached the eighteenth, Darcy had lost one more to the whims of the course. A stream with a bit of metal to guide balls ran down a hill to the end. "So this one's for all of it, looks like," Doug told her with a grin.
"Do you try to jinx me on purpose, or is it just a gift?" Darcy asked mostly rhetorically a few minutes later as the ball disappeared into the brush. "I'm half tempted to make you chase it down, but seems I owe you a forfeit."
Doug's ball did not get lost, and he dumped it into the ball return with a bit of satisfaction. "Well, now I'll have to decide what that forfeit will be," he said, resting his chin on Darcy's shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her waist.
Darcy leaned into his hold with a sigh. "We didn't set a time limit, so you've got plenty of that. For now though.. turn in our clubs and head home?"
"And see what other kinds of mischief might happen? Sounds good to me." Doug slipped his hand into Darcy's as they returned to the counter.
