{Kurt}

Waking before seven, Kurt laid in bed to take in his new surroundings. In the soft morning light Jon's guest room looked almost exactly as it had Saturday night; Kurt had so little stuff it all fit in the dresser. The break up with Nicky had cost him his shoe collection, along with his favourite dresses and tops. The walls of this room were soft green-grey, a little too close to beige for his liking. Maybe some new curtains and bed linens would spice things up in here.

He laughed to himself, sitting up. If he was staying. He probably wasn't staying. It was too much to ask of Jon's hospitality to just move in on day three of their 'practise' relationship.

Squeezed into the closet was the one nice thing Kurt had bought with his recent paycheck, not imagining he'd need to make a security deposit so soon. The dressing gown was luxurious and silky against his skin, giving him the feel of being cared for and precious as he wrapped it around himself. It was a delicious shade of mango, flushing to red, with vines and flowers twining up the sleeves and across the shoulders. He had not been able to resist it in the store window for a second.

He tugged on his worn-soft jeans, only regretting that he hadn't bought the matching harem pants.

Morning sunlight was dappling the hardwood in the main room and he lit one of the candles just for the smell of the beeswax, forever imprinted in his mind now as the smell of Jon. He propped himself against the wall in the open room, pulling a song out of his strings that rippled and shone like the sunlight. He wove his voice with the music, feeling like there was a song here. The lyrics that came to his mind were too personal to sing out loud, even alone in this house. Not yet.

He put his cheek on his guitar, jotting the chord progressions in his notebook, with a lick or two of the lyrics.

The front door thumped and he lifted his face expectantly, his stomach tightening. Jon appeared in the arched doorway, pushing the hood of his sweatshirt back so his hair emerged, rumpled and coppery in the morning light.

Kurt flashed him a smile, anxiety buzzing in his stomach. "Welcome home, White. Hope it's okay I'm here."

Jon's smile broke across his face like a second sunrise, and he turned his cheek away, his ears pink. "Totally okay. How soon before you head to work?"

He'd lost track of time--not unusual when he was making music. Kurt unfolded and got up, setting his guitar aside. "Not sure. Guess I better change."

"Don't change," Jon said softly. "You look gorgeous."

Kurt's heart bumped into his throat and he smoothed a hand over his bare chest, meeting Jon's shy, sideways look. He wanted Jon to bring his adorable face right up close and put his arms around him again.

Jon laughed once, giving himself a small shake. "So, um, what's the terms of our deal with you living here? I'm sure you didn't plan to be my practise boyfriend 24/7."

"I was wondering the same thing," Kurt said. "What do you want, Jon?"

Jon lifted his chin, poised in the doorway in his sock feet. "Honestly?" His voice was light and a little unsteady. "I want to kiss you right now. You've been my happiest thought since you left on Sunday."

Kurt didn't give a moment's thought to the strings attached; he only had eyes for the dimple that had appeared beside Jon's suppressed smile. "I'll take that kiss if it comes with a good Jon White hug," Kurt said. "That's been my happiest thought since Sunday."

Jon pulled his bulky hoodie off, stepping across the floor in his shirt sleeves, and Kurt's whole body flushed with desire. Biting his lip, Jon put his arms around Kurt's body. It was not the platonic hug of Sunday--the bare skin of Jon's arms slid like silk against Kurt's ribs, and there was nothing but his T-shirt between the press of their chests.

Kurt heaved a sigh, turning his face into Jon's temple to fill his senses with the smell of him, touching the fade buzzed up the back of Jon's neck. The squeeze of Jon's arms anchored him down, quieting his anxiety. Somehow, Jon's whole body told him he was safe and Kurt believed it.

"Better?" Jon asked, low.

Kurt's fingers tightened in his hair, tipping Jon's head back to taste those parted lips—then hesitated, feeling Jon shaking against him. Was it okay to take Jon's first kiss when they didn't even have a label on what they were doing here?

Before he could double-check, Jon pushed up against him, putting his lips on Kurt's. Jon kissed him like Kurt was air and food and he was breathless and starving.

Kurt stroked his hands through Jon's hair, and he kissed Jon back soft, his lips coaxing Jon to ease up because there was more than enough here for them both. Jon drew back to catch his breath, and Kurt's mouth curled in a smile.

"Better?" he asked.

Jon wrinkled his nose and nudged his face against Kurt's. "Let me try that again," he whispered. This time Jon's lips kissed him feather light, sharing his breath, following his lead. Kurt found himself melting into Jon, losing all sense of time or place. His hand on Jon's waist trailed under the edge of his shirt, stroking the bare skin in the small of his back, and Jon's throat made a noise, his mouth opening to Kurt.

Quickly, Kurt drew back to catch his breath--that was as far as he could go without completely losing his head. His mouth tasted like the coffee Jon had been drinking, and his face was full of the musky smell of him after a long day and night. "Whoo!" He grinned, took Jon's face in his hands and planted a kiss 'smack' on his forehead, then whirled away, his robe flapping behind him.

"Never been kissed? You're a liar, Jon White—you're gonna start a fire up in here." He banged around in the kitchen, covering his need to make a quick adjustment—no fair catching him wearing practically nothing. "You want another coffee? Or maybe an herbal bedtime tea. All I know how to do around here is boil water."

Jon's full lips curved as he leaned in the kitchen doorway. His eyes never left Kurt and the warmth of his attraction and approval went straight to Kurt's head like alcohol.

"I don't need a tea," Jon said, colour still high in his cheeks. "Come over here. You promised me stories. Tell me about your day."

Kurt laughed, unable to resist crossing the room to him again. He tugged gently on the lock of hair in front of Jon's ear, his knuckles feeling the sand-papery rub of scruff on Jon's cheek. "You really want to hear about my day?" This was unfamiliar territory for him.

Jon ran his hands up the silky fabric on Kurt's back, leaning back against the door frame and pulling him closer. "Yeah, your yesterday." The breath of his words brushed warm on his chest. "We have a couple minutes."

Kurt swallowed, leaning his forehead against Jon's and tucking his burned palm against the small of Jon's back. "My day ended with me here, thanks to you and Douglas. Can't say I'm sorry for the change of scene. That's about it."

"Can't say I'm sorry myself," Jon said, smiling at him.

Jon's hands were exploring under his robe, running over the skin of his belly, and Kurt caught his breath. "Easy, love," he whispered. "Some of us have to get to work."

Jon exhaled, pushing him away gently with his hands against Kurt's stomach. "Some of us are going to have trouble falling asleep tonight," he said.

Kurt laughed once, running his hands over his hair to straighten it again. "Well you just do your yoga or whatever you've been doing all this time. I'm told I'm worth the wait: five-star 'Yelp" ratings all across town." Jon made a face at him--those freckles though, damn. You only saw them up close, like cinnamon sprinkled on a latte.

"What are you doing this afternoon?" Kurt asked.

"Class," Jon said.

"This evening?"

"Work," Jon said.

"Tomorrow?"

"Same, the rest of the week until Saturday."

Kurt's mouth hung open in astonishment. "When do you sleep?"

Jon gave him a wry look. "Sleep is for the weak." He laughed under his breath. "I'm sleeping now 'til three. Your day is my night until I flip back to evenings on Thursday. I told you. Probably the only way I could actually have a boyfriend is if he lives with me."

Kurt's lips curled up and he smoothed the front of his dressing gown, pleased. "Well, fancy that, here I am. What are you doing tomorrow morning between the hours of seven and eight thirty, say?"

"Coming home to you," Jon said. He turned back a moment at the bottom of the stairs, rubbing his shoulder up to his cheek. "Is it really okay with you that you're here?" His forehead creased with a worried wrinkle. "I'm not going to—cramp your style?"

Kurt was leaning in the kitchen doorway, planning to enjoy watching his ass go up the stairs. His eyebrows flicked up. "Uh nope, I don't imagine so. I am fine and dandy, White. Carry on."

*PG-13 warning for references to mature sexuality.*

{Jon} 

 Lying spread-eagled on his back in bed, Jon heard the distant 'thump' of the front door closing on Cary and Kurt heading to work. He closed his eyes, trying to breathe evenly. Sleep had always been easy for him, a small mercy that made night shifts bearable. If he made it dark, cool and quiet he'd normally be out in minutes. Today, his lips still tingled from the soft pressure of Kurt's mouth and his body buzzed with pleasure and anticipation of more.  

When they were teenagers, Jon had dreamed of kissing Kurt a thousand times and ruthlessly taken those thoughts captive, burying them deep. He had barely been out to himself, and he had been desperate to protect what he assumed was just a friendship with an unfairly gorgeous straight guy in his church.

That was a long time ago. Every single one of those reasons was water under the bridge now, except one. This was probably still just a friendship, with an unfairly gorgeous queer man who just had a hell of a year.

Shit. 

Was that even something Kurt wanted with him, or had Jon just taken that kiss off his lips because he wanted it so badly? When Kurt had looked up from his guitar, the folds of his robe spilling around him like the plumage of some exotic bird come to roost in his own house, Jon had switched off his brain like a horny idiot.  

Jon groaned, flipping onto his stomach and burying his face in his pillow. So that explained a lot about the stupid shit he'd observed other people do when they had a crush. It turned out Jon White wasn't immune, he just hadn't met the right person. His brain was back online (thank you, where the hell were you half an hour ago), and Jon reviewed every minute of the morning, checking himself.

Would Kurt have kissed him back like that if he didn't want to? Could you fake tenderness when you were close as skin and breath? Jon's breath caught again, remembering Kurt's body pressed against him, his hands and his lips touching Jon so soft, so careful, so slow. Jon had very little experience in the matter, but in the moment he'd thought Kurt's body was saying yes, with you, yes.

Jon's body was wide awake, saying yes back, right now. That was new.

Sighing, Jon rolled over and got out of bed. There was no way he was falling asleep like this. Over the years, he had built a habit of physical discipline to cope with the stress of staying celibate while everyone else he knew had the freedom to seek out companionship and shared pleasure in their off hours. He'd skipped his usual workout times this weekend--his body wasn't spent enough to relax, and that was his responsibility.

Jon took ninety minutes out of his sleep time to run and work the heavy bag in their basement, then, swaying with exhaustion, indulged in a hot, pounding shower. Sleepily, he leaned against the cool tile of the bathtub surround, stroking out the last of the tension in his body. He tended to this humble need as he usually did, holding gratitude in his mind for his body's vitality and for the Creator who made and valued every part of him. The outrageous claim of the Christian story was that actually God knew exactly what it was like to live as a celibate man. Shuddering with release, Jon turned his face into the stinging spray, disconcerted by how urgent that had felt even after a lengthy work out. 

When he finally rolled into bed, all that was left in his body was a worried ache in the pit of his stomach. Whatever this was between him and Kurt, it loomed large enough to disrupt his entire way of life up until now. With his head back in charge, Jon recognized he had serious reservations about that. 

First, Kurt. Under his colourful flamboyance, Jon sensed Kurt was trying to heal from a pile of hurt. Jon's body was more attracted to Kurt than he'd ever been in high-school--and that was irrelevant. Probably having a closeted 'practise boyfriend' was not going to help Kurt in the long run. Jon needed to back off and keep his head in charge until he was sure he knew what Kurt wanted.

Second, was the quiet what if? What if they put a label on this? What if Jon broke his habit of abstinence to pursue an intimate relationship with Kurt? Was there a limit to how gay Jon could be, and still call himself a Christian? It had taken a hell of a long time, but he was sure now his Maker God loved him, accepted his gay body, and had nothing but generous welcome for Their children.

But Jon had never tested that love by being sexually active. He'd never even wanted to before. So God loved and accepted him when he was chaste and single. Was sex something God was okay with, or did They make a face and have to look away? How did They feel about two men together?

Honestly, the idea of two men together had made Jon uncomfortable right up until this morning. It was the only combination his body was interested in, but he'd never enjoyed imagining himself with some other man.

Imagining himself with Kurt, though. So different. Kurt was the whole package--his personality, his emotional warmth, the history they shared...If Kurt said he wanted him back, Jon had a weightless feeling there was nothing he wouldn't do, eventually.

Would God genuinely be okay with that, or was Jon just telling himself the story he wanted to hear?

All Jon knew how to do was ask. He held all of that open in his chest for his Maker to see, trembling a little with how important this felt to him after such a short amount of time. Are You okay with this?

He was asleep before he heard an answer. 

2619 words.