{Kurt}

Call the play.

Kurt's whole body hummed like a plucked string, with Jon just an arms' length away, his eyes dark as night water, looking back at Kurt.

"Come here, love," Kurt said softly, tugging Jon's wrist. He pushed back from the table, hooking an arm around Jon's hips to settle Jon on his lap, straddled, facing him. Jon linked his arms around Kurt's neck, turning his face to look sideways at him, his heartbeat fluttering in the corner of his jaw.

It was so close to everything Kurt wanted; his arms and lap were full of Jon's warm weight, but the other man was still so poised and wary. Searching the side of his face, Kurt palmed Jon's cheek, brushing a thumb over his full lower lip. Jon's tongue flicked out and touched the pad of his thumb, once, and Kurt took a breath.

"Can I get some clarification?" he asked in a strained voice. "When you asked me—if I wanted this with you for real. What were you asking?"

"I'm pretty sure I can hook up with you tonight." Jon's words were soft as sand. "If you're missing it. You're in your own category for me, Kurt Visser."

Kurt's laugh caught and he pushed his face against Jon's shirt to hide his stinging eyes. Of course that's what Jon meant. He hugged Jon closer and felt his hands stroke through his hair. If Jon had been any other guy, Kurt would have said yes in a heartbeat. Jon's gentle hands and his clean-man smell were unbearably arousing.

"Here's the thing, Jon," Kurt said into his shirt. "I don't want a hook up with you."

Jon made an ambivalent noise, shifting on top of the obvious evidence to the contrary.

"I want all the other things," Kurt said. Jon's hands went still, then pulled Kurt away from his chest. Kurt smiled and Jon's eyes went a little wide, tracking over his expression. He brushed a tear off Kurt's cheek with his knuckles.

"What other things?" Jon asked, like he really couldn't imagine it.

"Oh my god, Jon, all the things you said," Kurt burst out. "Being boyfriends and making pancakes and wearing our old pyjamas for sleepovers. All the things, Jon. All the things you do when you care about someone for real."

Jon's mouth was open—he looked around the kitchen like there might be someone else Kurt could be talking about. "With me."

"Jesus Christ—do I have to spell it out? Why do you think I asked to be your practise boyfriend? I didn't think you'd ever agree to be the real thing. I can't—I honestly can't just hook up with you. It will break my fucking heart, Jon, if that's all you think I'm good for."

Jon started to laugh. "Kurt, why do you think I asked you for a hook up? I didn't think you'd ever agree to be my actual boyfriend and I'm so fucking interested in you I thought I would work with whatever you would give me until I changed your mind."

They laughed so hard they had to hold onto each other to keep from falling off the chair, and Kurt had to wipe his streaming eyes on Jon's T-shirt. His robe was dry clean only; highly impractical for a gay prone to tears, but there it was.

"Okay," Kurt said, when they recovered, sticking his hand in the air like a referee making a call. "Okay, re-do. I want to be your boyfriend, Jon White. Can we do the dishes together and just make out before bed?"

Taking a huge, relieved breath, Jon cupped his hands around Kurt's face to kiss him. Kurt hooked his arms around Jon's shoulders to steady himself—he was shaking a little from the release of that moment.

"That is a yes from me, Kurt Visser," Jon said against his mouth. He closed his eyes, flattening his hand against Kurt's chest as that dimple appeared next to his tucked mouth. "You know this...doesn't change my job, right? All I can give you is still just here."

"Hm, good thing I live here," Kurt murmured against his jaw. "I'm pretty sure we can make this work, Jon."

{Jon}

Jon hoped Kurt was right, and probably not in the way Kurt imagined. This feeling of warm attraction for Kurt's body, the heat unfurling in Jon's stomach and loosening his limbs, was entirely unfamiliar to Jon's adult experience. He wanted this to work tonight. A whole world of possibility was opening—like maybe he wasn't defective and an actual loving, physical relationship was possible with another man. With Kurt.

His heart was galloping like they were sprinting and about to leap off a cliff. "Find us a playlist, Kurt," Jon said softly. "Let's take your carpet for a spin."

*For my lovely under-14 readers, feel free to just scroll on down. I'll give you a little PG-13 recap at the end.*

Kurt's eyebrows flicked up. "I have just the thing." He tapped his phone and Barry White started to growl seductively through the speaker.

Laughing, Jon stripped off his shirt, the candlelight in the living room flickering as he passed. He knelt on the carpet, fishing out the bottle of oil he'd ransacked Kurt's room to find, hours earlier. Kurt's eyes danced with blue fire as Jon held it out with a slow smile back. "Your turn."

Kurt already had his shirt off, throwing himself down next to Jon with a groan. "Yes please."

The fragrance of vanilla mingled with beeswax as Jon rubbed a palmful of oil between his hands to warm it, then spread it up Kurt's spine and along his shoulders. Kurt hummed with pleasure as Jon straddled his hips, working his hands over his skin, feeling the muscles of his shoulders and back where work was filling him out again. He stroked over every inch of the skin on Kurt's back, eating up every little detail, the divots above his hip bones, the arrow shape of the muscles joining his shoulders.

As he massaged Kurt's neck, Jon stretched back to put his mouth between Kurt's shoulder blades, feeling the shape of him with his tongue. Kurt tasted like the coconut oil and his own personal musk. Underneath him, Kurt caught his breath. Jon kissed him down the length of his spine, taking his time, stroking his hands around to tuck them against his boyfriend's stomach, teasing the waistband on Kurt's hips.

Quickly, Kurt caught his hand and held it, his face buried in the corner of his elbow. "Don't play with me, Jon," he said, muffled. "I never wanted something so bad in my life. So you better...just take your lovely hands away and let me hit the showers."

Jon pulled Kurt onto his back with his oiled and scented hand. The other man's arms fell loose above his head, his face and chest flushed with desire, his eyes endlessly blue and wide as they met Jon's. Jon took a short breath, bent to kiss Kurt's mouth, and slid his hands into Kurt's pants.

Gasping, Kurt tipped his head back. "Holy Jesus."

Kurt was as familiar to Jon as his own self. He put his cheek on Kurt's chest, listening to the raucous snare of the other man's heartbeat while his hand stroked a slow, irresistible counter point.

A laugh broke out of Kurt's chest. "Jon darlin' you're gonna make a mess—"

Jon lifted his face to watch, his face opening in a grin at Kurt's expression. "What if that's what I want, Visser," he teased, and Kurt made an inarticulate noise, his hands kneading convulsively into Jon's shoulders. Jon's breath caught with his until Kurt arced underneath him, shouting with laughter as he came.

Spent and out of breath, Kurt chuckled to himself as he cleaned up with his shirt. "Good thing this carpet is washable microfibres," he said. "Thank you, love. I didn't expect that."

Jon sat back on his heels, holding his hands to his chest, so full of candlelight and Kurt's pleasure he ached with it.

There it was. He'd shared that with another man and the earth didn't open and drop them both into hell and lightning didn't strike through the roof to turn them to ash. It was an ordinary Saturday night in his house, and this was messy and silly and glorious and he'd loved it, loved it, loved it.

{Kurt}

Warm with well-being, Kurt reached to touch Jon's knee. His boyfriend's eyes shone in the candlelight and his skin was like satin. Two tears dropped onto Jon's cheeks as he looked back at Kurt. "Now you?" Kurt asked. "Or not yet?"

Wordlessly, Jon ducked his head in a nod, laid back on the carpet and unbuttoned his pants. Kurt took a slow breath, his hands lifting like he was about to make music. "Christ." He swallowed. "You're gorgeous."

Jon's laugh sounded like a sob, and he buried his face in his balled up shirt. Kurt laid down next to him, running his fingers all over Jon's skin, learning the shape of him, circling his nipples and tracing his coppery treasure trail of hair down the centre-line of his stomach. "What do you like, Jon?" he whispered.

Jon caught his wrist, surprising Kurt again with the strength of his grip. "Please don't tickle me." His voice was frayed and he laughed once. "I'm going to go up like a fireworks' show in a minute—just—" He pushed his hand into his pants. "Kurt, please."

Kurt rolled on top of him, covering Jon's mouth with his own while his hand stroked between them. He lost time with Jon moving under him, kissing Jon's helpless noises of pleasure into his own mouth before he went down to put his mouth where it was most needed.

Jon came with a long sob of sound, his arms flung wide on the carpet. As he rocked Jon, drinking him in, Kurt felt so clean he was transparent—all his love shining out of his skin. Laughing softly, Kurt finally let him go, kissing the pale inside of his thigh. There were freckles even here, scattered in the seam of the muscles of Jon's leg. He could have kissed every one—god he wanted to do that all again and memorize Jon completely.

Unexpectedly, Jon made a soft, keening sound, curling and covering his face with his hands. Worried, Kurt gathered him into his arms, trying to see his face. "Oh--hey," he said. "Was that okay? Are you okay?"

Jon choked a laugh, then shook with tears again. "I didn't think we would be so fucking beautiful."

Kurt pressed his lips to Jon's sweat-damp hair. "Oh love," he whispered. I knew we would be. He hugged Jon close as the other man cried, tangling their legs so every possible inch of their bodies could be together. Kurt felt at once so full his skin might split open and still longing for more. It was his favourite feeling.

Finally, Jon sat up, wiping his face on his shirt. "I swear to you Kurt, I'm not a crier," he said. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

Reclined on the carpet, Kurt brushed his own tears away with the back of his hand. "Maybe you are and they just been bottled up. I love crying with you."

Jon's laugh was cracked. "Fuck you," he said, his hazel eyes narrowing in a smile at Kurt.

"I hope you will," Kurt said.

At that, Jon took an unsteady breath, pressing his lips together, and Kurt's chest squeezed. Fear wasn't an expression he liked to see on Jon's face. "Someday," he added. He took Jon's hand, kissing his fingertips. "I was teasing, love. I can pretty much wait forever like this."

*PG-13 version: Jon and Kurt kissed and enjoyed each other. They took turns, they listened to what the other person liked. That is all lol. Jon's all up in his feelings, and he says "I didn't think we would be so f**cking beautiful." And Kurt thinks, "I knew we would be."*

They tidied up the pillows and did the dishes side by side, soft music from Kurt's playlist unspooling in the companionable quiet. Jon leaned his hip against him, sighing. "I think I'm heading to bed. My head feels..."

"Puffy?" Kurt suggested.

Jon laughed, squeezing his hand on the top of his neck. "Yeah. Do you want me to sleep in your bed tonight?"

The words were casual but Kurt stopped breathing, wondering if he had misheard. On a very crude level, they hadn't done anything here that he hadn't done before with dozens of guys. Except this. He slept in Nicky's bed. Or he slept alone. It hadn't occurred to him sharing a bed with Jon would even be an option.

"Yes," Kurt said huskily. "I'm sleeping like shit alone."

Jon glanced at him, a smile curving his full mouth. "I know." He started up the stairs. "Try not to spoon me all night—it wakes me up."

Kurt grinned slowly. "No promises," he drawled. "It's my bed and your ass is comfy."

Jon paused. "Could you find Misty and take her up to Cary? I haven't heard him come down yet."

"Sure," Kurt said. "I'm not sleeping for a while yet."

When he was sure Jon had disappeared upstairs, Kurt threw his arms in the air, squeezing his eyes closed and whisper-screaming like the biggest fangirl in the world. Jon White! Jon White naked with him! Oh my god his hands. And he was his boyfriend and they could do that again whenever Jon wanted.

He thought his chest would burst from happiness.

2235 words.