{Jon}

Bea was the first person to spill out of Cary's truck outside Creekside Gardens, lifting her puffy yellow parka arms as if the encompass the whole snow-covered scene. "Christmas!" she crowed. Cary huffed a laugh, and she took his big arm, skipping to keep up with him. "You can take all the time you want to look at all the doo dads. I don't even mind."

Jon and Kurt followed them into the store, bumping the backs of their hands together and stealing sideways glances.

The vast, glass-ceilinged building had been transformed into a forest of towering evergreens, each sparkling with decorations in a different theme. A life-sized Santa sleigh was tucked in the centre of the twinkling display, and a crooner burbled Christmas tunes above the fragrant space. A crowd of bundled shoppers browsed the aisles, which branched off the display area, or lined up at the little cafe for morning coffee. The whole place smelled like pine and eucalyptus and roasted coffee beans.

"You gotta list, Douglas?" Kurt asked, his eyes bright under his tousled, colourful hair. He'd done something different with his face, Jon thought; his lips were a distractingly luscious shade of pink.

"Yup," Cary said, handing it over. "Gotta stay focused."

Kurt scanned it. "All the chi chi frou frou doo dads for our naked tree." His lips curled in a smile, his eyes touching Jon's for a moment. "Love it."

Reluctantly Jon and Kurt split up, sending Kurt with Cary and Jon with Bea. She took her brother's hand as they walked, swinging it a little and saying in a sing-song voice, "Thank you for inviting me, Jonee."

There had been an entire year when a littler version of Bea had made all her words into little songs for her family. "Thank you for coming Honey Bee," he sang back, softly, a little warmth coming into his cheeks. She giggled. It was zero effort to return her smile; Jon felt as if he carried nothing more than his ordinary body today; light and strong.

"Tabitha May didn't want to come?" Jon asked.

She shook her head, smushing her knitted hat over her hair. "Too early. She needs, like, two hours to get ready." She rolled her eyes. "Plus...I don't know if this would be fun for her. She's been a big grump lately."

Jon gripped her small, cool hand a little more firmly. "How's the week been for you? Any stories?"

Her face became quiet, soft and serious in the winter daylight. Shaking her head, she gave him a small smile. She gripped his hand back tight and Jon was content with that wordless story.

They were comparing the merits of sequins versus glitter in the purple-themed aisle when a holler reached them.

"Bea White!"

Bea's face lit up and she turned to see Jordin bounding towards her, her long dark hair tumbling over her angular shoulders as she ran. "Hey Jordi," she said, hugging her gently.

Jordin glanced past Jon's bemused face, scanning the crowd. "Is your brother here?" she asked.

"Yeah he's--" Bea turned to Jon, her hand on his coat front before catching his wide-eyed warning. "--around here somewhere."

"Why don't you two run and find Cary and Kurt?" Jon nudged Bea's shoulders away from him. It wasn't her fault she couldn't tell a lie to save her life--or his. He rolled out his shoulders as his fingers flew over his phone in a text to Cary.

<jordin & b incoming gay up>

<sorry> He added.

"Hey Jon," a friendly, familiar voice said. Jon glanced up to find Patrick giving him a wave, Dusty bouncing beside him. "I guess everybody's out to see Santa today."

Jon smiled, his shoulders tightening. "I guess everybody is."

"Pops, Santa Claus is coming here," Dusty said, leaning into Jon for a quick side hug, before continuing to bounce and look at everything. His slim brown fingers touched every price tag on the wall, and he grinned as he made the shiny baubles clink and swing.

"Careful," Jon and Patrick said together, then smiled at each other.

"You here alone?" Jon asked.

Patrick shook his head. "Nah, the whole house wanted an outing. Naomi's here somewhere with Grace. It's a girls' date and me and Dusty are just tagging along. Right, Dust?"

"Yuppers," Dusty said. "I don't care what our tree looks like as long as there's popcorn strings."

Jon was glad to hear how easily Patrick included Jordin with Grace and Naomi now; the other man had come a long way over the past weeks.

Patrick fell in step beside Jon, strolling through the aisles while they kept an eye on Dusty. "What're you here for, boss?"

One corner of Jon's mouth quirked up. He'd never heard Patrick use Angel's name for him. "My brother does a big tree every year. We're shopping for all the chi chi frou frou for a pink and purple theme."

Patrick laughed. "He sounds like quite the character."

"Mm," Jon said, still smiling, thinking of Kurt.

"Hey," Patrick turned partly towards him, his square-jawed face earnest. "I just wanted to thank you. Uh--a friend of mine from high school came out on social media last week and if you hadn't told me your story with your brother I don't think I would've known what to do. We went to a Christian school and...some of the comments on his post are pretty trashy, to be honest." Patrick's expression was troubled. "Not everyone, of course. But even a couple have to sting when you put yourself out there like that. So I messaged him and we grabbed a beer and just hung out. I figured I have no idea so I mostly just listened." He sighed. "I feel bad for the guy."

Jon was surprised by the other man's honesty. "I don't think you need to feel bad," he said slowly. "It gets better, usually. When you've been keeping half of yourself squeezed and secret it's a relief--just to not. Have to do that anymore. Even if people are shitty about it at first. Friends who stick by you help."

Patrick grunted understanding, his expression lightening. "You got a church you would recommend? Where do you and your brother go?"

Jon sighed inwardly; this just got more and more complicated. "Pretty much any United or Anglican church in town would be welcoming," he hedged. Patrick was still looking at him expectantly, and Jon caved. "We go to St. Aidan's United."

Dusty came hurrying back up the aisle, his bright red jacket hanging off one shoulder. "Santa's here!" he stage-whispered. "He's just getting in his big sleigh!"

Amused, Jon watched him run off again, then leaned over to ask Patrick, "You think he knows yet?"

Patrick shook his head, his eyebrows lifting. "You want to be the one to tell him Santa's not real, boss?"

"Nope. That sounds outside the scope of our role," Jon said drily, and the other man laughed.

As they rounded the corner into the pink-themed aisle, they found Cary hunkered down, studying a pair of tree toppers laid out on the floor, Bea and Jordin clamouring around his shaggy dark head showing him three more, Kurt casually draped over his shoulder.

"Nope," Cary said, rejecting one, then another. "Nope."

Kurt threw up his hands. "Darlin' it doesn't have to be perfect. Just pick one." He caught sight of Jon and made a barely perceptible wink.

Jon hunched the collar of his jacket up over his mouth to cover his smile. Beside him, Patrick had gone a little wide-eyed, stammering, "Hey--is that--?"

Jon patted Cary's arm; the big man barely looked up. "Patrick, this is my brother Cary, and his partner Kurt Visser." He flipped a hand toward Kurt, stepping back a little. "You met at the concert."

Kurt leaned over, reaching a hand to shake. In his wedge boots and black skinny jeans he looked seven feet tall, topped by his colourful fringed scarf and equally colourful, artfully wild hair. "Sure, I remember you. You work with Jon, yeah?"

Patrick nodded, gripping Kurt's hand and then cupping it against his chest like he planned to never wash it again. In this ordinary setting, Kurt looked like queer royalty just mingling with the commoners.

Kurt said, "We have a bit of a dilemma here with the tree topper--maybe you could be the tie-breaker, Pat."

Patrick's laugh was nervous. "Oh I don't know--my fiance's the one with all the style."

Kurt smirked. "Straight dude probs. Jon, you want to chip in?"

"Ha," Jon said, flipping him the middle finger behind Patrick's back.

Kurt grinned back, and Cary rumbled, "It's not a democracy--it's my tree. We just haven't found the right one yet."

Kurt bent down and took his bearded face in both hands to peer innocently into his eyes. "What do you want, darlin'? Just tell us and we'll find it for you." His glossy lips over-enunciated the syllables and Jon laughed under his breath.

Cary batted his hands away, hefting himself abruptly to his feet, looming in the narrow aisle. "I'll know it when I see it, sweetheart," he grumbled. "I gotta look at a few more things." He stumped away, leaving Kurt looking a little blank, his hands spread on his chest.

Quickly, Jon intervened. "Bea, Jordin, could you girls take Dusty to see Santa?"

Grinning self-consciously, Patrick also took his leave, following the children toward the winter wonderland. Jon waited until Patrick turned the corner out of sight, his hands stuffed safely in his pockets as he watched Kurt sideways. His partner was blinking rapidly and trying to catch his breath. "You all right?" he asked quietly.

Kurt's laugh was a little unsteady. "My heart's going like a kick drum. The man is focused, whoo. Forgot for a second who I'm with now."

Jon's hands closed in his pockets, his chest aching as he recognized all the signs of an anxiety attack. Nicky and Cary were both dark haired, broad-shouldered men about the same height, and in these close quarters that was a tricky combination, even without the added anxiety of trying not to out your partner to his workmates. "I hate that I can't hug you right now," he whispered.

Kurt wrapped his arms tight against his own chest, breathing out slow and rocking back and forth on his heels. "I'll be all right; I just needa ride this out a minute." His eyes touched the glass ceiling, sunlight glowing through the snow, and the glittery display of trees, before coming to rest on Jon's face and narrowing in a small smile.

"I work with the guy every day--not the first time my shit got triggered," Kurt said, already sounding more steady. "Although I'm not usually right up in his face when he gets all big like that," he added ruefully. He hummed to himself, looking at Jon with quick sideways glances. "Let's go for a stroll to that cafe," he said. "I feel like a comforting London Fog."

Miserable, Jon tagged along behind his partner's shoulder. Once they were in sight of the exit doors he couldn't bear it any longer. He reached out and touched Kurt's elbow once. "I'm just going to go wait in the truck," Jon said. Kurt checked his face and Jon tried to smile. "Take your time, Kurt--I know this is all the things you love. You'll feel safer if I'm not here."

Jon ducked out of the store, jogging across the parking lot. He felt safer if he wasn't there, escalating his partner's anxiety.

Cary's old truck was unlocked and Jon climbed into the dusty front seat, breath stabbing in his chest. His hand popped the glove compartment without his permission; of course there was no more pill bottle, just automobile manuals and a wad of take out napkins. Jon shoved it closed, disgusted with himself.

Drawing his knees tight to his chest, he clasped his ankles to count his breaths and wait.

Minutes later, a tall, slender form appeared, hips swaying as he took long strides in his heels, a tray of coffee cups in his hand. Jon breathed a little easier.

The truck rocked as Kurt pulled himself inside, crinkling his warm blue eyes at him as he slammed the door shut and offered Jon a cup. "Macha tea misto for you, darlin'. Bea's in there sweet talking Cary into skipping the tree topper and going with these feathery birdies instead. Probably won't take long; she has him wrapped around her little finger twenty-three times."

Jon made a dry noise, almost a laugh, and took a gulp of the creamy, sweet drink to try to ease the pain in his chest. "Feeling better?"

Smoothing his hand over his scarf, Kurt nodded, his face thoughtful as he sipped his own drink.

Sighing, Jon bent his head, easing his shoulder. "I'm tired, Kurt," he said low.

"Well...you need a break love," Kurt said. "Holidays are coming. One more week of exams and then you're done."

Closing his eyes briefly, Jon dug his knuckles into his chest. "I'm tired of this," he said. "Hiding. I just want to hold your hand sometimes."

Kurt reached for his hand, his touch brushing the ribs Jon had been rubbing. "You hold my hand lots of times," he said gently. He paused, studying Jon's face tipped back against the seat beside him. "Your ribs still hurtin' you?"

Jon tucked his chin in a nod, tightening his fingers on Kurt's hand. "Healed years ago. I don't know why they hurt again this time of year." He rubbed the back of Kurt's hand against his eyes. "I would've been cutting already today to think about something else."

Kurt put an arm around Jon's shoulder, tucking his hand in the collar of Jon's coat to work his fingers into the tension in the muscles on the left side of Jon's chest. He was so close, Jon could smell the beeswax smell of the hair product his partner used now to twist his colourful hair into messy chunks.

Jon's mouth flattened. "I love you," he said, without opening his eyes. "You should have a partner who can be out with you in public. Remind me why I'm doing this again?"

Kurt hummed quietly. "Because you're an extraordinarily good person?"

Jon glared at him through his eyelashes and Kurt flashed him a teasing smile.

"Because I have a problem with self harm?" Jon countered, tasting the bitter edge of those words.

Kurt's eyes winced. "Hush love," he said softly, stroking his thumb back and forth along Jon's upper ribs. "That's not why."

A flash of red caught Jon's eye across the parking lot and they both watched Dusty trundling ahead of the group of Jordin, Grace, Patrick, Naomi, Bea and Cary.

Kurt leaned his cheek against Jon's temple. "How many of those people do you suppose are better off because of you?" he asked lightly.

Cary's teeth flashed in a grin as he leaned over to listen to Bea, who was waving her hands as she talked, her mustard-yellow slouchy hat askew. Jon didn't feel this was a relevant question; he'd just tried to do the right thing. He hadn't even done it perfectly or very well most of the time. "Anyone could do what I do," he said. "I'm really not special."

Kurt's eyebrows flicked up in disbelief. "Nuh-uh. Who you are matters, Jon. Ask any one of those people. Hell, ask me."

Jon took a big, painful breath and let it out.

Kurt laid his hand flat against Jon's heart and put his lips on his hair. "I feel you, darlin', you know I do. If you still want to be done when you're rested up, I know you'll find somewhere else and it'll be better because you're there. But don't quit for my sake--I'm not sorry you are who you are. You do hard fucking things because someone needs to and most people won't. Even if I can't tell everyone I'm with you--I'm so damn proud I'm with you," Kurt finished fiercely.

*Ohh gosh I was missing crowds of shoppers as I wrote this... can you tell?

What do you notice about the ways Kurt has changed and grown since the opening of this project? He definitely hasn't lost his enormous personality! What do you wish Jon would learn from him at this point in the story?

Thanks for the reads and votes lovelies!*

2680 words.