{Kurt}

That evening, the house was full of the sharp pine scent of their silver fir and by ten o'clock Cary judged the branches of their Christmas tree had opened enough to string the tree with thousands of twinkle lights. Kurt pulled carols out of his memory, his fingers finding their melodies on his guitar. When Jon returned from work, Kurt's face lit up. "Welcome home, White," he said.

Jon stood in the doorway, surveying the tree, his mouth crooked. He dragged his eyes to Kurt. "Hey love."

"There's cider if you want," Cary said, wrapping yet another strand of lights around the tree. "Stick around and enjoy the tree, Jon."

"Doesn't the house smell amazing?" Kurt said. "Did you smell it when you came in the door?"

Jon leaned his fist against the door frame and his face was flat as he looked back at Cary. "You couldn't wait two days to pull all this shit out? It's November, Cary. I really can't do Christmas right now. I needed--two more days."

"Not Christmas," Cary said gruffly, sorting through the strings in his hands. "Advent. Grieving. Waiting for the light. That's what time it is now."

Watching Jon take a steadying breath, Kurt hugged his guitar closer to his chest, feeling abruptly caught in the middle of a fight that had been going on longer than he'd lived here.

"Fuck grieving," Jon said. "I literally don't have time for this."

Cary shot him a look, his dark eyebrows drawn down low. "Maybe if people grieved when they're supposed to they could walk a little lighter the rest of the time. Take themselves less serious. Be easier to live with."

"Hey--Douglas," Kurt protested softly, watching Jon fall back a step under the weight of those words.

Jon ducked his head, touching his hand to his chest and tapping his fingers twice, before turning aside to go upstairs.

"Aw--shit," Cary said softly. "Jon, I'm sorry," he called after the other man's retreating back. Jon's feet sped up the stairs and Cary shook his head, throwing the string of lights around the top of the tree and securing them.

Putting his chin on his guitar, Kurt made the strings cry, turning every chord he'd been practising into a minor key.

"All right, all right I'm going," Cary muttered. "I'm fixing it. Gimme a minute Visser." He finished tucking in the strand of lights, then stretched his body from side to side, leaning down to try and touch his toes. He shook his legs out and rolled his shoulders, then tramped up the stairs after Jon.

Silencing his strings, Kurt heard a 'rap' on a door, and Cary's gruff voice saying: "Asshole. You want to fight me? I'm free to roll right now."

A few moments passed, then two pairs of feet stomped down the stairs. Kurt's eyes followed the two men as they filed into the basement; he'd never seen Cary in his Gi, a plain white jacket with a blue belt knotted around his waist. Heart drumming, Kurt jumped to his feet, propping his guitar on her stand and hurrying down the steps to pull up a seat on the stairs to watch.

Jon had his back to the stairs, barefoot in his black Jiujitsu pants and Gi, jumping lightly up and down on the sparring floor, then pulling up on the base of his skull where Kurt knew he carried all his stress. In the opposite corner, Cary folded to his knees to retie his belt, making the loops with quick, practised movements before shoving back to his feet. The two men met in the middle, tapping their knuckles and began to circle each other, crouched and ready. Their hands were already engaged, knuckles touching, fingers gripping wrists and sliding free, testing each other.

Kurt thought Cary might be twice Jon's weight, and he edged down a few more steps, leaning forward, completely interested in how this match was going to play out. He wished his kid-brother Nolan was here to lay bets. Five bucks on my boyfriend.

"Just Jiu Jitsu, yeah?" Cary asked. "No MMA shit--no punching."

Jon's laugh was quiet, but Kurt thought he already looked more relaxed. His body was poised, not tense but alert. "Takes away your advantage, big guy," Jon said.

"I would rather get choked out than punched in the head one more time," Cary said, batting Jon's hand away from his wrist again.

"Fair," Jon said, and got a grip on the collar of the other man's Gi, dropping and snatching Cary's ankle out from under him. The bigger man went down with a 'thud', ripping Jon's fingers free from his collar and capturing his wrist as he fell.

Kurt had really only watched the highlights of Jiu Jitsu matches: big takedowns or choke outs, and that had not prepared him for the experience of watching two experienced practitioners rolling. Once they were on the floor, Jon and Cary grappled like they were playing chess with their bodies--getting a grip here, sliding their arms or their knees through an opening to find an advantage. Even though Jon's body looked tiny on top of Cary's, he was so agile that he made controlling Cary's arms and movements look effortless, his feet spread on the floor, and the full weight of his upper body pressuring the other man.

Far more quickly than Kurt would have predicted, Jon had one of Cary's arms pinned and his own forearm across his bearded throat. Cary tapped his hand twice on the floor, and Jon flipped back over his own shoulder, popping up onto his feet. "You're out of practice."

"I'm just getting warmed up," Cary said, his teeth flashing in his beard. Back on his feet, he shook out his shoulders as he circled Jon again. "Who you been rolling with? Am I just that slow or are you faster than you used to be?"

Jon swatted Cary's reaching fingers away, staying low and wary. "Tamara's been kicking my ass. She has a couple red stripes on me. Once in a while I get her back just because I'm bigger but she's quick and strong and too fucking smart."

"That sounds familiar," Cary said drily.

"Only way I'm gonna learn, right?" Jon said, catching Kurt's eye on the stairs and narrowing his eyes in a brief smile for him.

In that second of inattention, Cary's take down was quick and brutal and Kurt wrapped his arms over his head, afraid he was about to witness his boyfriend getting totalled. Somehow, in the 'thud' of both their bodies hitting the floor and the momentum of Cary's roll, Jon got the top position again, working to get his knee over his broad chest. Cary wasn't near as flexible as Jon; with Jon's weight over his torso, he couldn't reach his powerful legs back to knock Jon off--but neither could Jon pin his sizable arms.

In an explosive movement, Cary used his upper body strength to heft Jon over, legs flying, and buried Jon's head and shoulders under his massive body. All Kurt could see was Jon's lower half, his bare feet braced against the floor. There was a second of stillness, Cary's shoulders straining as he leaned into Jon's torso, clearly still fighting for a hold under his body.

"Tap, asshole," Cary panted.

Kurt heard the muffled sound of Jon laughing, breathless but not sounding done whatsoever. Suddenly Jon's body arced in a bridge, dislodging Cary just enough to get an arm free, slippery as an eel. Jon flipped his legs over Cary's back, using his feet to unpeel the bigger man's grip and work his way to a choke hold of his own.

Huffing a laugh, Cary tapped, and Jon relaxed, grinning as he sprawled on his back over Cary's massive chest. "Good one," Jon said.

Cary thumped Jon's chest. "Almost had you."

"One more?"

The tone of their match shifted; Jon coached Cary as they rolled, telling him where to grab, when to throw his weight. Cary was tired, Kurt realized, a chunk of his energy spent in the last match, so now they were just playing. He leaned his cheek on his hand, a smile chasing over his mouth as he remembered times he'd play-wrestled with Nolan. Sometimes a good platonic wrestling match was all you needed.

When Cary tapped the last time, Kurt ran down the stairs and dove on top of them both. "Hug pile!" he hollered, and it was a jumble of arms and legs and groaning and laughter. Kurt wormed his way to the bottom of the pile, pulling the two men on top of himself, completely happy to be smothered by his humans.

He wriggled to check their faces. "Are we good now?"

Jon laughed, kissing Kurt's head and reaching over to tap his fist against Cary's. "Yeah we're good."

They rolled apart, Jon kneeling to tug his Gi straight and tuck it into his belt. Still sprawled on his back, Cary reached out to pat Jon's knee. "Need me to look after food the next couple weeks?"

"Please," Jon said quietly. "Or I'll forget to eat." He unfolded and held out his hand to his friend. The big man groaned as Jon pulled him to his feet.

"Tub is mine tonight," Cary said, heading to the stairs.

"Thank you," Jon said, quietly over his shoulder. He glanced at Cary, his mouth making half a smile. "For putting up with me another year."

The other man crinkled his eyes at him. "Love you, asshole." He lumbered up the stairs.

Kurt rubbed his warm cheeks, grinning. "Aw I love you both."

Jon was quiet as they got ready for bed, his hands touching Kurt's shoulders, his hip leaning against his as they brushed teeth and undressed, and Kurt heard what Jon's body was telling him, even if his boyfriend too tired for the words. Folding Jon into his arms in his bed, Kurt laid wide awake, his throat tight. Jon's weighty warmth was almost asleep in his arms before he got up the guts to ask.

"Love?"

"Mm?" Jon said sleepily.

"What do I need to know about Judah?"

Kurt felt Jon stir, his body abruptly alert, and Kurt dropped a kiss on the back of his neck, aware of the contained power of the other man's body in his arms.

"What do you mean?" Jon asked.

"I don't know anything about Judah," Kurt said. He took a short breath. "Cary said he's your brother and it's his birthday this month."

"I thought you...knew that," Jon said blankly.

"How would I know that?" Kurt asked, low. "Cary knows all your shit. I don't." Jon's hands were fists under his fingers and Kurt rubbed his thumb over his boyfriend's knuckles, his chest aching. "Sometimes I feel like you hide things from me. About how you're doing. Like you think I'm not strong enough to handle it."

Jon rolled to face him, his hand finding Kurt's face in the dark. "I don't think that." Kurt couldn't see his expression but Jon's voice wobbled. "I'm not good at talking about this. Judah is my older brother? And his birthday is on the tenth. And his death day is on the 14th." Kurt set his hand on Jon's chest and felt the other man curl smaller. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Kurt. I thought you knew but that's stupid since I never said it."

"Is that all I need to know?" Kurt asked quietly. "Are you okay?"

Jon was quiet a long time, gripping Kurt's hand. "I don't know if I am?" His voice was squeezed small. "If you want me being honest. I have to pull 16 hour days this week to finish my classes-and I can only look at a day at a time. Last year, doing school on top of work on top of December...just about put me over the ledge. And I guess I should've seen that coming again this year." He exhaled, putting his lips in the palm of Kurt's hand. "I'm sorry I'm not a fun boyfriend right now. This isn't what you signed up for."

Pulling him closer, Kurt kissed the top of his head. "I signed up to be with you. I don't mind the shitty lows if I know you're not mad at me or keeping me out."

"Oh my god, Kurt, I'm not mad at you," Jon said softly. "You're the high point of my life right now."

"Good, then I'm doing it right," Kurt said, and felt Jon's laugh puff against his chest. "You coming home to me at the end of those 16 hour days?"

"Yes." Jon's hands slipped around the back of his neck, fingers curling in his hair.

Kurt tucked Jon under his chin, rubbing his thumbs against the tension in Jon's neck. He felt the other man exhale, relaxing against his body. "As long as I know what's going on, I don't need more than that," Kurt said. "Just do your thing this week, love. I'll be here for you at lights out."

*Are the guys going to make it through December?? That sounds like a lot!

Did anyone else wanted to see Jon and Cary sparring since they talked about it in, like, chapter 3?? My friend's husband does control Jui Jitsu, which is where I got the idea from, but since COVID hit we haven't been able to be in touch for me to ask my questions. Thank God for YouTube, a free resource for writers everywhere lol. After hours and hours of research I finally felt confident that I could picture and write a short match between a more experienced but smaller black belt fighter and a larger blue belt opponent. If you're interested... and I possibly stayed up way too late over Christmas watching Jui Jitsu matches after my family was in bed lol... here's Reiner Gracie (4th degree black belt) sparring with a 275lb NFL athlete.*

https://youtu.be/iZDQ0-Zbpt8

2329 words.