{Jon}

The sleep meds lasted exactly six hours, as promised. Jon unglued his sticky eyelids, listening to the silence in the house. He'd thought he was going to make it through this week, but the energy he'd felt midway was sucked dry. Pulling the blankets over his head, he smothered himself in a warm, Kurt-scented dark. It was long minutes before he could muster the energy to lift his phone.

Dragging his finger over the screen, he texted: <what time u home>

Jon let the phone drop, feeling the weight of his body sinking into the bed, the ceaseless in and out of his breathing and thump of his heart. He was tired of fighting and tired of carrying everything and his body was so damn determined to live. The slow grind of his thoughts turned to the ways he could jam the gears and actually make it all stop and just not. Have to go on any further.

His phone buzzed in his hand and Jon took another breath in, lifting the light of the screen to his face.

Kurt: <on our way home now bringing viet-thai *heart face*>

Jon pushed himself up and away from the sinking darkness of bed, smacking his cheeks sharply and opening his eyes wide. Yup, still here. Doing this day.

He made himself shower for his partner, then forgot to shave the right side of his face and had to go back to finish the job, half-dressed in front of the mirror.

The sound of the front door thumping closed and Kurt's cheerful, "Honey, I'm home!" put enough life into Jon for him to keep moving forward. It wasn't opes, but it was what he had right now until he decided if he was getting on that train to pull through the rest of this weekend.

Jon's conscience pricked him and his body ached like those ribs were broken again, instead of long healed. Maybe he was on that train already; he had a stash and a plan and half a dozen lies behind him. How many more lies was it going to take to keep Kurt in the dark about the dark?

Jon's feet stuttered to a stop on the top of the stairs and he leaned against the wall to dig his fist into chest, feeling the little bumps where the bones had joined. His ribs didn't still hurt; it was just his fucking addicted brain telling him they did so he would give in and give it what it wanted to feel better.

Shutting his eyes, Jon made himself breathe, fill his ribcage with air and let it out slowly. He wasn't in pain; it wasn't real. He didn't need opes because here he was breathing. He just needed to keep...doing that.

{Kurt}

The moment Kurt saw Jon pad into the kitchen, wrapped in a hoodie pulled down over his hands, his heart squeezed, seeing in Jon's strained face the child Cary had told him about the night before, shouldering the burden of being the son who lived.

With one hand full of the take-out bag, Kurt had to settle for a one-armed hug around Jon's tense body and a kiss on his hair. "Hey love, it's the weekend!" He opened the bag with a flourish. "We thought we'd make our lives easier with take-out and there's lots for left overs tomorrow."

"Maybe," Cary said, coming in behind him. "I'm hungry as a bear."

Jon's mouth lifted in a smile, but Kurt couldn't help noticing the purple thumbprints pressed under his eyes.

"I'm grabbing a shower quick," Cary said, patting Jon's shoulder on the way by. "Good to see you Jon."

"How'd you sleep?" Kurt asked.

Jon rubbed a fist into his eye, cracking a yawn before Kurt was even done asking. "Okay, I guess," he said. He let his hand drop, making a brief smile. "The question is if I'll sleep good tonight."

"Jui Jitsu tonight?" Kurt asked.

Jon shook his head. "Over for the year. You want to do something? Go skating maybe? I've just been sitting around all week--my body feels like garbage."

Kurt hesitated, wanting badly to say yes to Jon. "Uh--I think I need to get to a meeting tonight. Can we do something after?" He winced a little, waiting for Jon's reaction.

"Everything okay?" Jon asked, searching his face.

"Yeah," Kurt said quickly, then slowed down to be more fully honest. "It's been a big feelings week and I used to drink to manage those. So. Better safe than sorry."

Jon set his feet a little wider, his hands fisting in his hoodie pocket. "Can I come?"

Kurt answered without thinking. "It's not an open meeting, love. Addicts and alcoholics only tonight."

Jon bit the corner of his mouth, hesitating. "So...I can come," he said slowly.

Kurt blinked. For a second he'd literally forgotten his partner had almost fucked up his life with an opiate addiction. "Right, yeah I guess you could."

Jon was watching him under his coppery fringe of hair. "Maybe that'll be weird for you. I don't want to impose on your thing, Kurt, if you need that space."

"I'm an open book." Kurt narrowed his eyes in a smile at his partner. "Nothing I'm gonna say there I wouldn't say to you. At least not tonight." He widened his eyes dramatically like, no promises for the future!

Jon made a small smile in return and a little amber light blinked on in Kurt's mind. "You okay, Jon?"

Jon turned his face to look at him directly. "Yeah I'm okay." His hazel eyes were muddy and dark, but he held Kurt's look. "I just...want to be with you tonight." He touched his knuckles to his chest lightly.

For some reason, the amber warning light didn't blink off. Kurt took his time with the feeling. "You know you'll have to share like everyone else, yeah? You going to be comfortable with that?"

Jon ducked his head. "Do you ever get comfortable with being an addict?" There was an edge to his question. He exhaled, shoving his fists back in his sweater pocket. "Yeah that's fine. I'll share something, Visser."

Kurt had to be satisfied with that answer. The smell of the food through the white Styrofoam lids was making his stomach growl. "I'm going to use the shower quick downstairs. Cold showers are good for you, right? Cary will thank me later."

When he came out of the basement bathroom in joggers, shivering and rubbing a towel through his hair, he discovered that Jon had followed him and curled on the couch to wait. His partner had his hood over his face and the gentle rise and fall of his chest told Kurt he had fallen asleep in the mere minutes he'd spent in the shower. Sighing, he knelt beside Jon to shake his shoulder.

Jon came awake slowly, his body barely moving, one bleary hazel eye peering at Kurt. Kurt stroked his cheek, nudging the edge of the hood back so he could see Jon's face.

"White, you're wrecked. Are you sure you want to go out with me tonight?"

Jon's eyes fell closed again. "I'm not doing great. Alone right now." His voice was flat and a little rough with sleep. "I think it will be good for me to get out of my head."

Kurt brushed the freckles on Jon's cheek with his thumb, wishing he knew what his partner meant by "not doing great alone." Before he found the words to ask, Jon breathed in, his lips curving.

"You smell delicious." He put his finger in the centre of Kurt's bare chest without opening his eyes, and goosebumps chased over Kurt's skin. "Do you have ten minutes?"

Kurt tipped his face, studying Jon's closed eyes and soft mouth, his chest aching right under the touch of Jon's finger. Talk to me, Jon. "Yeah I have ten minutes," he said quietly. "Then you need to eat something, love, and so do I."

"Don't want food. Just want you," Jon said, and Kurt allowed him to pull him on top of his body, folding Jon in his arms and kissing his mouth.

{Jon}

The warm weight of Kurt's body on top of him brought Jon fully awake for the first time all day. He breathed Kurt in, stroking his fingers up his back, tracing the corners of his shoulder blades and the muscles at the back of his arms, the tension in his chest releasing as he filled his senses with the soft warmth of Kurt's skin.

A wet 'splash' on his cheek made Jon startle and open his eyes.

Kurt pulled away, hiding his face in the front of Jon's hoodie. "I'm not cryin' you're cryin'." His voice was husky.

Alarmed, Jon pushed up on one elbow, trying to look at him. "Visser, what's happened?" He stroked the hair back from Kurt's forehead but the other man wouldn't lift his head. "Did someone hurt you today? Just tell me what's wrong."

Kurt's arms tightened around him and his exhale was hot through Jon's sweater. "I just miss you, Jon."

Jon's hands tightened on him. "I'm right here. I'm home as much as I can be."

Kurt shook his head against him once. "I miss hearin' your stories. I miss you talkin' to me. You're givin' me your body to hold at the end of the day and askin' for mine an' I--" Kurt put his chin on Jon's chest, looking at him with red-rimmed eyes. "I got spoiled. When I had more than that with you."

Kurt lifted off him abruptly, wiping his nose on his wrist; his absence left Jon cold. Kurt's laugh was cracked as he mussed up his towel-damp hair. "Stupid of me to care about that now, like I never traded my body for shit I needed." Shrugging, he rubbed his ears. "If you need it you can just have it, Jon. I didn't mean to cry on you."

Jon scrambled up on the couch, feeling like those words had gone right through him and left a hole. "Wait--Kurt." He caught Kurt's hand. "Please don't walk away." He took a short breath; he'd skipped right through anger to the hurt on the other side. "I'm sorry; I didn't think..."

Jon closed his eyes briefly. God he was an asshole. He'd known, or guessed, this about Kurt, and he still hadn't checked to see if his partner was paying a cost out of his own body for him this week. "I hurt you."

Kurt didn't pull away but he didn't come any closer, glancing sideways at him. "You didn't mean to," he said quietly. "I'll be all right, White. I got more than ten minutes for you tonight."

Jon pressed his lips together, caught between his desire to protect Kurt from the worst of his shit and Kurt's obvious need for more from him. "All I have is shitty stories." Jon's voice frayed and he ducked his head. Kurt's hand tightened on his but Jon couldn't look up; it had been easier to look Kurt in the face and lie to him earlier than tell even this much of the truth. "About me fucking up. And the dark."

Kurt wove their fingers together as he dropped to bring his face level with Jon's, his blue eyes bright in the dim basement as they searched his. "I'm not scared of the dark," he said slowly. "Just bein' alone in the dark."

Jon couldn't hold his look for any length of time and he resisted the urge to pull his hand free. "I don't know how to be with you in the dark," he whispered.

Sighing, Kurt tipped forward to lean his forehead against Jon's. "Jon. Love. Please just take me with you. It's as dark where I am without you as it is where you are."

Jon made a dry noise. "I doubt that."

"You promised you wouldn't leave me." Kurt's voice roughened and he took Jon's chin, forcing him to look right in his face. Anger flashed in his blue eyes, even as tears slipped over his cheeks. "Jonathan fucking White." His fingers tightened on Jon's chin, giving it a shake. "Keep your promises."

Wide-eyed, Jon tapped his fingers twice against Kurt's wrist, and the other man let him go, standing up abruptly.

Sagging back, Jon whispered, "You can have all my shitty stories tonight, Kurt." His whole body ached; possibly he'd broken the thing between them already and they just didn't know it yet. "You can take them or leave them. And I'm sorry I'm not better for you."

Kurt caught him under his arms and dragged him up onto his feet, crushing him in a hug. Oddly, the smothering pressure of his body made Jon feel like his broken chest was back together again so he could breathe.

"Shut up, Jon," Kurt said gruffly. "Yeah you suck at this. And I'm not leaving you for anything. Get that in your stubborn head already." He turned Jon's shoulders to the stairs and gave him a little push on his butt. "Now haul your pretty ass upstairs; I'm starving. Some of us can't live on kisses alone."

*How did you feel about Jon's apology here? What are you hoping will happen at Curt's AA meeting?

Thanks as always for the reads and votes lovelies. See you on the weekend!*

2167 words.