{Jon}

Jon awoke to the sound of Kurt singing in the shower at the top of his lungs. He squinted at the heavy hotel curtains where it was evidently not yet sunrise, and then checked the time on his phone: 7:30 AM. What on earth was his partner doing awake? Rolling on his face, he buried his head in the pillows and spread his arms and legs in a starfish across the entire bed.

He'd just dozed off again when the bed bounced and Kurt clambered over his body. "Jon--Jon--Jon," he sang softly, hugging Jon's shoulders and rubbing his scruffy cheek against Jon's. "Time to wake up!"

The smell of his lip gloss made Jon crack one eye open, a tiny bit interested. "Why?" His voice was rough with sleep. "There's hours 'til check out, Visser. Sleepin' in. Breakfast in bed. These don't sound tempting to you?"

Kurt chortled, poking his ribs through the blankets. "Nope. One more trail to conquer. There's a Kissing Point I want to find with you. Come on--come on!"

Jon made a grumbling noise, getting his knees under him, fighting to free himself from the weight of the duvet and Kurt's body. "What the actual eff. I work today. I was planning to sleep."

Undeterred, Kurt scrambled off the bed, almost dancing with excitement. "You can sleep in the car. We have one more day in the mountains Jon--we're not spending it in a hotel room. Let's go, let's go!"

Struggling out of bed, Jon started to laugh. "I swear it's like being with a small child with you sometimes. Okay, I'm up."

It was obvious that while he'd been snoozing, Kurt had packed the room and laid out Jon's clothes. His partner's sparkling eyes made Jon suspicious he had some plan up his sleeve. "Kissing Point? Are you making this up?"

"No no no," Kurt said, laughing, his eyes wide and innocent. "It's real. The SkyTram leaves in twenty minutes and I want to be on the first ride up."

The Jasper SkyTram was a carriage on a zip line that travelled up to the top of Whistlers' Mountain, where there were trails along the ridge line, as well as an obligatory gift shop and restaurant. Jon and Kurt were the only two passengers on the squeaky pleather benches so early in the morning, and as they swayed up the side of the mountain, beams of the rising sun hit the carriage windows, nearly blinding them.

Jon leaned back sleepily against Kurt, and Kurt tucked an arm around his chest. "Mountains are just so big," Jon said. "Feels like we're in God's big house."

Kurt was quiet, but Jon felt his ribs expand under his head in a contented sigh.

"I think that's why it works for me to come here," Jon said, cracking a yawn. "Like in God's house I can put all the shit down I've been carrying. And They'll take care of it."

Kurt hummed. "An' then it's safe for you to cry," he said.

"Yeah," Jon said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He felt so completely peaceful after all the crying he'd done the day before, and in Kurt's arms he didn't feel exposed, like he needed to get his shit back together and lock it down to return to work. He was okay just how he was, open for feelings to come and go in his body. At the end of the day, he was coming home to Kurt and his partner had such a generous amount of room for Jon's big feelings alongside his own.

The only big feeling Jon had to handle with care now was his anger, and he'd been kicking that into the heavy bag in his basement long enough to be pretty sure he could manage that in a way that wasn't going to alarm Kurt's sensitive heart.

The SkyTram carried them above the treeline; when they disembarked onto the slope, the mountainside was bare and littered with pebbles and stones, blown clean of snow. The sky brought all the colour and drama, flags of clouds glowing pink before the sun broke the horizon and they faded to a fluffy white.

Kurt set off up the trail at a good pace, head up, hands gripping the straps of his backpack. It was a forty minute hike around the mountain at a fairly steep incline to reach a lookout point, but the path was wide and smooth. The wind cut around their necks but the sun was warm through their jackets. Jon settled into his body, enjoying the rhythm of his climbing legs and his breathing, feeling his hips loosen up and his legs begin to burn with exertion.

He stole sideways glances at Kurt as they walked side by side. His partner had pulled his tuque off and the chunks of tangerine and pink in his natural blond were tousled and wild. Kurt's cheeks glowed with cold and his blue eyes were wide like he was drinking in every colour in the sky. Jon took his mittened hand, swinging it between them. He loved Kurt's childlike wonder--worth the early wake up call.

Coming around the massive mountain shoulder, the appeal of this trail became clear. Spread out below, hazy with distance at this height, were five lakes strung together like jewels, shading from turquoise green to deep blue. Set back from the trail was a bench made of roughly hewn pine logs, and Kurt picked up his pace.

"There's our coffee stop." Kurt threw himself onto the bench, grinning back at Jon. "Kissing Point."

Jon hopped next to Kurt on the bench, sitting up on one knee to find his lips with his. The tip of Kurt's nose was cold against his cheek. "Hm what a lovely view," Jon murmured, and Kurt laughed into his mouth. "Is there literal coffee or was that just a figure of speech?"

"Oh no, there's literal coffee," Kurt said, and Jon spread his arm along the back of the bench around him while his partner rummaged in the backpack for the thermos and cookie tin.

Munching and sipping, Jon stretched his legs in front of him, drinking in the view of the lakes and land and sky. "Feels like we're as high as God, doesn't it?"

Kurt was quiet, tucked under Jon's arm, eyes narrowed in the light pouring out of the sky. "It's like that tent, isn't it," he said finally. "That you pray with Dusty." He dragged his fingers through the air like he was feeling a fabric wall. "Hangin' over us like the sky is silk."

Jon tipped his face at him. "I hope you're still song-writing, love. Are you?"

Kurt flashed him a glance, half his mouth smiling. "Yeah, a bit. No idea what I'll ever do with them. But music keeps tricklin' outta me."

"I love that about you." Jon sighed, closing his eyes.

Kurt rummaged in his pocket and set something on Jon's leg, small and light. Jon opened his eyes, expecting a pepper cookie and blinking instead at a small black box. Kurt thumbed open the lid.

Jon's eyes flew to his face. "What's this?"

Kurt gulped a breath, smiling as his eyes filled with tears. "Rings to say you're mine," he said. "An' I'm yours."

Breath catching, Jon stared at the pair of gold bands nestled in the box.

Kurt said unsteadily, "I got these ready when we talked about gettin' married. An' I know we can't...do the thing with the papers and a minister and a party with everyone toasting us at our reception. But I still--want you to have this ring. It means something to me."

Every word touched Jon like the rays of morning sunlight over the mountain; he felt as if his entire body was unfolding and opening towards Kurt and he couldn't speak.

Kurt plucked the pair of gold bands out of the box, getting on his knee on the rock-tumbled mountainside, holding the wider band out to Jon. "Jonathan Nathanial White, will you spend your life with me?"

There was not even a question of his answer. Jon snatched the mittens off his hands, putting his warm fingers around Kurt's freezing ones and finding his voice. "Yes. Kurt, yes."

{Kurt}

Kurt's heart thundered as he fumbled with the ring and Jon's hands; he didn't want to look away from Jon's glowing eyes. This tiny gold band was his everything: his heart and his body and the rest of his years given to Jon. "I got this sized last week. It's Grandpa Visser's wedding band. I thought you'd like something plain." He was so nervous he was babbling now. "I don't think you should put it where a wedding ring goes, just on another finger or on your right hand?"

A laugh rang out of Jon's chest. "Just put it on already," he said.

Kurt bit his lip and slid the smooth gold band over the ring finger of Jon's right hand. "That fits," he said softly.

Jon threaded the second band off Kurt's pinkie, where he had slipped it for safekeeping. "Is this one for you?"

Kurt looked sideways at him through his bangs. "Yeah. It's Grandma Visser's wedding band." His throat was squeezing so he almost couldn't get the words out.

Jon got to his knees in front of Kurt, picking up his hand, and Kurt started to cry. He was getting that gift back, Jon's heart and Jon's body and the rest of Jon's years given to him, of all people.

"You're freezing," Jon said, unzipping his down jacket and tucking Kurt's hands against the warmth of his chest. He examined the slim band while Kurt sniffed and rubbed his face on Jon's sweater, worming his fingers deeper inside Jon's jacket. "You had this engraved? It's tiny--what does it say?"

"Love is as strong as death," Kurt whispered. "Yours says it too." He smiled, fresh tears dropping onto his cheeks as Jon met his eyes. "That's what they say, right? Those old promises we can't say. In sickness and health, for richer or poorer, 'til death do us part."

Jon stuck out his chin. "We can still say them. I, Jonathan White, take you Kurt Visser in the good times and bad, 'til death do us part."

Kurt could barely see through his tears. "Me too."

Jon drew Kurt's hand out of his jacket, smoothing his fingers open. "You can wear this on your wedding finger if you want. No one's going to ask questions about you."

"I do want," Kurt whispered. "Yours for keeps, Jon."

Jon slid the ring on Kurt's finger, the band warm from his hand, then he tucked Kurt's hand against his chest and laughed so loudly the mountains rang. He threw his arms around Kurt and hugged him tight until Kurt's shivers passed, then kissed him until Kurt couldn't tell whose breath was whose.

On the way back down the mountain, Jon wouldn't put his mitts back on and he kept holding his hand out to admire the ring. "How long have you been planning this?" he asked, skipping backwards to look in Kurt's face.

"A couple weeks," Kurt admitted. "When Douglas gave me the hint you might want to get married. Took me a minute to decide what to do when we realized we couldn't do the whole official wedding thing. But...I've been sure I wanted to give that to you for a while."

Jon's face lit up. "Oh my God, my mom. Wait, Kurt, we have to take a selfie where we got engaged." His forehead wrinkled. "Where we got married? What are we calling this?"

Kurt started to grin behind his scarf. Both words hit his chest like a fizzy jolt of warmth. "I don't know."

Jon held out his phone. "Get your adorable face in here. Whatever this is, Mom's going to want all the pictures."

2000 words.

*Craving Kurt's Danish Pepper and Cardamom cookies? I definitely am. The link the the recipe is in the comments! Stay well, lovelies and be kind to yourself and your people today.*