{Jon}

In the car on the way home from Jasper, Jon scrolled through the photos of him and Kurt on the mountainside, humming to the carols on the radio and swinging his leg. He tapped three of the best images, opened a text to his mom, and then paused, checking the time. He felt a dent in his happiness for the first time that morning. "Shit," he said softly.

Kurt made a questioning noise, glancing at him.

Jon pulled up on the tension in his neck. "I was going to send these to Mom, but she's at work. In the office at Tabitha May's Christian high school. I was thinking how happy this was gonna make her but...she won't be able to tell anyone."

"You don't think...she'll still be happy?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah, she'll still be happy," Jon whispered. His shoulders curled small and he put his hands over his face. "I didn't think this through. My parents have to keep us a secret too. All their friends' kids are getting married to opposite gender people and I'm--not. They can't show off these pictures—they just have to smile and nod."

"I'm pretty sure they still have Tabitha May for that," Kurt said.

Jon laughed unsteadily.

"It's not your fault it's hard, Jon," Kurt said more quietly. "You didn't make the rules that say we can't be a thing. Your mom's a grown up person, even more than you. I think you should just send her the photos and let her be happy. She can hide in the washroom and do a happy dance, or whatever."

Easing the ache in his shoulder, Jon rested his eyes on the picture of Kurt, windblown, eyes sparkling, his ringed hand covering his mouth in an exaggerated expression of surprise. His mom was going to laugh at that one for sure. Taking a breath, he added this text to the photos:

<love you mom. Hope you can find a quiet spot to do a happy dance. This happened. I said yes. He said yes. *engagement ring emoji* *double heart emoji*>

It wasn't five minutes before his phone rang and buzzed against his stomach. "Jonnnnnn!" His mom whisper-screamed, and Jon laughed. "Put Kurt on the phone!" Jon laughed harder.

"You don't even want to talk to me?"

"I want to talk to you both!"

Jon put her on speaker and Mel's bubbly voice filled the front seat. "Congratulations, I'm so happy for you!"

"Hi Mom," Kurt sang. "I asked Jonathan Nathanial White to spend his life with me and he said yes! Can I be in your family now?"

"Of course you can." It sounded like she was laughing and crying at the same time and Jon worried about whether she'd found someplace private to have this conversation.

"You know you can't tell anyone, right?" Jon asked. "We're..." He glanced at Kurt, who quirked his eyebrows at him, waiting for the word he was going to choose. "...like permanently engaged. No wedding." He sighed, rubbing his face.

"Jon, honey." Mel's voice was warm and calm. "We will just say the things we always say about you to our friends: that you have launched beautifully into your grown up life and we're so proud of you." Her voice brightened. "Oh my goodness but we need to celebrate your engagement at family dinner on Saturday! Kurt, would it be alright if we popped some champagne?"

"I think my feelings would be hurt if you didn't," Kurt laughed.

The car was very quiet when the phone call ended.

"How do you feel about that?" Kurt asked.

Jon was silent. Something big was shifting inside him; he felt the slow massive impact as it connected. Every single person he cared about carried the stress of keeping him secret while he worked this job. He could hardly bear to think about keeping Kurt in the closet with him for another year, let alone a decade or a lifetime.

And at the same time, his mind was already shuttling forward to seeing Dusty and Jordin this afternoon, and the phone call he needed to make to their social worker to confirm that their Christmas visit with their mom was happening. He'd lost count of how many times Darla Kickingbird had promised and then failed to show; he was bracing for Dusty to be heartbroken, and he sensed Jordin was too.

Jon didn't think of himself as very important, but he knew how few other reliable grown ups Jordin and Dusty had in their life. Taking himself out of the equation at this point would be a huge loss of stability for them.

Jon closed his eyes and spread his hands over his body. "How much longer can you do this, Kurt? For real."

"This?" Kurt asked in a small voice.

Jon tried to swallow his stomach back where it belonged. "Stay in the closet. Again. For my job."

Kurt sighed. "Love, I'm just with you for whatever. For better or worse. I'm not—really back in the closet. I'm still me when I go out. You're the one who has to put on that damn hoodie and fold up half your size every day."

Jon twitched his shoulders, shaking that off, and looked in Kurt's face to check the truth of his partner's answer.

"I'm good, Jon," Kurt said softly, meeting his eyes. "For real. I'm with you."

Jon took a big breath and felt his stomach settle. "Okay." He blinked and wiped his eyes quick. "Thank you."

Kurt nodded, his mouth a crooked line as he stroked the back of Jon's neck. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something more, then closed it again. "Love you," he said low.

{Kurt}

What Kurt held quiet inside him, was the same question back. How long could Jon keep doing what he was doing, for real? He was hoping with the wrap up of school and a week of restful holidays that his partner wouldn't be stretched so thin. He thought Jon wasn't even aware of how exhausted he was almost all of the time, and how heavy a load he picked up and carried every day. For now, Kurt was just going to cover for him however he could so Jon could make it across the finish line.

They arrived home in the early afternoon and found Douglas' truck parked outside. Entering their house, the smell of marijuana overwhelmed the smell of their Christmas tree.

"Hellooo Cary, your gays are home safe," Kurt sang out, then coughed and waved his hand in front of his face. "Holy Jesus, Mary and Joseph, it smells like skunk in here."

"Meant to open the window." Douglas' gruff voice came from the living room and Kurt poked his head around the doorway looking for him.

Unexpectedly, there was now a massive recliner in the middle of the room upholstered with...argyle? Printed with geometric bear shapes. It was possibly the most hideous piece of furniture Kurt had ever seen. Douglas blinked sleepily at them from this impressive man throne, one leg stuck stiffly out in front of him.

"Your hip again?" Jon asked, and at the same time Kurt asked, "You went shopping without me?"

Douglas made a huffing noise. "Yes," he said slowly. "And yes, I guess. I was lyin' on the floor and I thought why the fuck do I need to climb a flight of stairs to find a comfy place to sit in my own house? And my phone was in my pocket so I called a guy. At a furniture store and he sent me the biggest 'big man chair' he had." Douglas' teeth flashed in his beard as he stroked the argyle arms. "An' I've been sitting in it ever since."

Kurt glanced at Jon. "What's wrong with your hip?"

And at the same time Jon said, "You mixing T3s with your weed?"

Douglas narrowed his black eyes at Jon. "No. I'm not an idiot. Left the T3s locked up. Kurt can keep count for the next couple days."

Kurt made an amused noise. Who would have imagined the day that he was the most reliable sober person in his house?

"Thank you." Jon ran his hands through his hair, exasperated. "I'd really like to keep my two years sober chip. I assume you called your physiotherapist?"

"She's free to make me cry tomorrow, yeah," Douglas said. "Just hanging out 'til then."

Jon exhaled. "Okay. I'm going to go rescue some work clothes from my closet before everything in there smells like weed. That's just not a conversation I want to have with my boss. At all." He jogged up the stairs.

Kurt unravelled his scarf and hung up his coat, asking his question again. "What's wrong with your hip?"

"Gave out on me coming down the stairs to make coffee."

"You saying you need a coffee?" Kurt asked.

"I would kiss you for a coffee," Douglas said, rumbling a laugh.

Chuckling, Kurt decided he was going to enjoy an afternoon with high Cary Douglas.

The big man literally did not leave the chair while Kurt put on a pour over and tidied up some dishes. After he'd put the cup in Douglas' hands, Kurt picked up his guitar, hugging it against his stomach and plucking the strings to tune it up quickly. "You're a young guy to have a bum hip," Kurt said. "Sports injury?"

"Arthritis something-something," Douglas said. "Get the shit beat out enough times your body keeps the score." He sighed, easing into a new position. "I bet it snows tomorrow. Hip always wants to let me know about weather. Won't listen when I tell it there's apps for that. It can pipe the fuck down about snow or rain or a hurricane. There's just no call for it to be so damn loud."

Kurt shot him a glance, one corner of his mouth tucking in. Whoever Cary's father was, he'd come to hate him with a passion. "Now you do sound like an old man," he teased. "You snacky?"

"What do you think?" Douglas said. "I've just been stuck here in this chair smoking weed all day."

"I guess I'm cooking tonight," Kurt said.

A moment later, Jon came downstairs empty-handed, shrugging. "Too late," he said. "Smells like skunk upstairs too. I'll just step out and buy a shirt and pants to wear for my shift today. I have a hoodie in the van. We can launder everything when you get your hip sorted out."

Jon seemed philosophical, no longer stressed with a plan in place. He leaned in the kitchen doorway, where he could chat to Cary and Kurt at the same time. "Any recommends, Visser? I was just going to get a nice grey Tshirt from Wal-Mart..."

Kurt pretended to throw up. "Oh my god, White. You kiss me with that mouth? Never say the 'W' word to me again. I'll text you a legit men's wear store before you go. Do NOT buy one more grey Tshirt."

"Hey Cary," Jon said casually, holding out his right hand. "Look what Kurt gave me."

Douglas took his brother's fingers, looking wide eyed from the wide gold band to the two of them. Grinning, Kurt waggled his hand where the matching ring sat on his finger.

"You fucking...eloped?" Douglas said. "An' didn't tell me? You sneaky gays--I had my suit all picked out!"

Jon started to laugh. "No, we didn't elope. Hang onto the suit. These are more like...engagement rings."

"If we were ever going to do something as standard as get engaged," Kurt said wryly. "It's a little more than that to me."

Jon touched his arm, catching his eyes. "Me too, love."

"Keep the suit, huh," Douglas gave them a sly sideways look. "All right, I will." He fished around in the side pocket of the arm chair, coming up with a baggie full of rolled joints. "Someone want to put on some Christmas carols? I'm feeling very festive all of a sudden."

Kurt was a little warm and light-headed after Jon's lingering kiss good bye, in the back entry way crammed with off-season jackets and boots. "Whoo, Jon White," Kurt said softly, turning the wedding band around his finger as he watched his partner jog to the van. Three more shifts, three more school days and then that beautiful gay man was all his for a week of Christmas holidays. He hardly knew what to do with himself until then.

Although, clearly, his job for the next twenty-four hours was to babysit Cary Douglas.

While Douglas finished off the tin of pepper cookies, Kurt made buffalo wings and breaded cheese sticks from the freezer. He made nachos and a pan of brownies. Tomorrow he would clean up his eating; today he was sacrificing a fibre-rich diet for a friend in need. He hauled the TV off the wall in the basement and set it up in the living room so they could watch Christmas movies and eat all the snacks in the house. He was pretty sure he was high from the second-hand smoke; there was a lot of giggling even for Kurt Visser.

Douglas got up once, hauling himself out of his chair and steadying himself against the wall a second, weight on his good leg. He limped heavily to the tiny washroom and Kurt wondered if he should offer to help, from where he was lying on the floor underneath the Christmas tree.

When he was done, Douglas dropped back into his man throne, gasping a little, and fishing for his baggie again. "Goddammit body, do the thing," he growled. "Fuck." He lit up, puffing fiercely for a minute.

Kurt scrolled through his playlists and found a new one, classic Christmas songs by sultry female crooners. Seemed like just the thing to soothe Douglas' soul just now.

Slowly relaxing, Douglas' eyes drooped. "Just tell me this, Visser," he grumbled. "Do I hafta wear a matching ring? Does Jon need us to keep playing--husband and husband?"

Kurt blinked up at the twinkling lights on the tree, fingering a song he was writing in his head on the bones of his chest. "Dunno."

"I'm not lookin' for a girlfriend. But if I was--I'd have a hell of a hard time findin' one. Pretendin' to be Jon's gay brother."

Kurt twisted his head to look at him upside down. "You're not lookin' for a girlfriend?"

"No," Douglas said. "I'm on a break. Gotta creative project needs all my love."

Kurt hummed thoughtfully. "Cool cool cool." He started to giggle under his breath, thinking about getting Douglas a puppy for Christmas. That could be his other job this week, shop for a cuddly dog.

"Love you like a brother, Kurt," Douglas said, eyes closing. "But I'd be fine if we never had to hold hands in public again." He sighed. "But it's whatever. Glad Jon's not gonna be alone. If handsy Kurt Visser is what it takes for Jon to have a person, I'll live."

Kurt pouted his lip out, looking back at him. "I'm not that handsy," he protested.

Douglas snorted.

A giggle bubbled out of Kurt's chest. "Okay, noted." Kurt solemnly tucked his hands into his armpits, one at a time. "Kurt will keep his hands to himself and he's very sorry he made you feel that way."

Douglas shifted, crossing his arms over his chest like he was cold. "Cary accepts his apology," he said gruffly. "Think you could bring me a blanket? Imma sleep now."

Kurt rolled to his feet, swaying a little. "Oop," he said. "I think I need some fresh air." Upstairs, he could breathe more freely, and Jon had had the foresight to close the doors to their bedrooms. Kurt dragged the comforter off of Douglas' bed and hauled it down the stairs to tuck around his big body and the entire chair.

Possibly Douglas was already asleep; he barely stirred. Kurt clucked his tongue, looking at his broad, bearded face, creased a little with pain even in sleep. "Love you like a brother back," he said quietly, and put his hands behind his back to drop a kiss lightly on Douglas' forehead.

{Jon}

A fresh coffee, a fresh outfit, his familiar hoodie, and Jon felt a second wind of energy carry him into his work shift. As he waded into a log full of notes from four days away from the house, Jon held secret in his heart the memory of Kurt holding a ring out on the mountainside this morning, blue eyes narrowed in the morning light, smiling and crying at the same time.

As he answered emails and did supper dishes and tucked the children into bed, he found himself touching his thumb to the ring on his right hand for a little lift of energy and happiness. The contrast between today and this day any year previous were stark; Jon was the only person who knew how often he pulled his hoodie over tender, cut up skin the week following Judah's death day and carried on.

By the time he arrived home, just before midnight, all the lights were off in the house except the glow of the Christmas tree. Cary was asleep sitting up in his chair, covered in the comforter from his bed, Misty curled in a furry lump in his lap.

Kurt's bed under their broad red tent was empty. Puzzled, Jon touched the door to his own room, peeking inside. The floor was still piled with his dirty laundry and the closet doors were partly open, but Kurt had cleared off his bedside table and moved all the candles from his room to Jon's. His current paperback was spread face-down on the duvet and Kurt himself was curled up fast asleep in Jon's bed, his glasses crooked on his face.

Smiling, Jon removed Kurt's glasses and laid them amid the candles on the bedside table. Kurt stirred, his eyes half opening and the corners of his lips curling up. "Jonnnn," he sang, his voice muzzy and soft. "Got soooo hiiiigh on Care's second-hand smoke an' I'm so sleepy now."

Laughing softly, Jon smoothed his hair off his face and kissed his cheek. "Sleep it off, love. Early start tomorrow--I'm just coming to bed."

"Luva you," Kurt mumbled, his eyes dropping closed again.

"Luva you too," Jon said. He slipped out of his clothes, zipping them into his backpack to keep them scent free for tomorrow, and then climbed into his bed without waking his partner. With Kurt's warmth just inches away, and the soft sound of his breathing, Jon dropped immediately to sleep and slept dreamlessly the entire night.

*I Googled 'big man chair' and when this popped up I knew I had to have it for Cary's living room! Thanks for the reads and votes--see you Saturday, lovelies!*

3070 words.