{Jon}

While Jon listened to the splash of the shower, he pulled the pillows off the bed and tossed them on the floor. Inspiration hit, and he quickly used the chair and end table to make a little sheet fort at the end of the bed, lit by the lamp standing up in the centre.

He heard Kurt chuckling, before his boyfriend ducked his head through the opening and crawled inside the tent. "We have a perfectly good bed, you know," he drawled.

Cross-legged, his head brushing the sheet stretched over them, Jon smiled. "You said your bed was for cuddling and sleeping only. It's late but I wanted to keep our options open."

"Very reasonable and responsible,"  Kurt said, stretching out beside him. He glanced up, looking far more relaxed than he'd been minutes ago. "Tell me all the boring stories, White. How are your kids?"

Jon lay down facing him, propping his head on his elbow. He caught Kurt up about the Thanksgiving turkey Naomi had roasted to juicy perfection, and Jordin's announcement that she was a girl, and the Kickingbird sibling's visit to the reserve this weekend. His head got tired and he tucked it onto Kurt's shoulder, and the other man put his arm around him, pulling him close.

As they breathed together in the close, warm space, Jon's mind shuttled back to another time, lying in a fort made of Kurt's blankets, in the luxurious garage space he'd lived in then. "Remember the day we made a pillow fort at your place?" he said softly.

Kurt's "Mm-hm," hummed against his cheek.

Jon asked the question he'd always wondered about. "Did you know? That you were gay that summer?"

Kurt made a soft noise. "Oh hell yes. I knew when I was nine years old kissing Davey C. behind the hill at recess."

Jon put his chin on his chest to look in his face. Kurt's eyes were half closed, contented and sleepy. "I didn't guess you were until right at the end. It was so impossible for me to believe that you would like me."

Kurt's hand tightened on his shoulder as he blew a dismissive raspberry. "How could I not. The day you walked in, this skinny kid with a great big soul shining out of your eyes, I wanted to get closer to you. God."

Jon's forehead wrinkled. "How did you know I was gay?"

Kurt laughed to himself. "You're not going to like it." He reached over, brushing his thumb over Jon's cheek. "You're such a blusher, love." Even as Kurt touched him, Jon felt his skin warm.

He laughed, hiding his face against Kurt. "I've never appreciated that quality until now."

"I thought you were so adorable," Kurt said. "And...god, all the things I wished I was. Good. Genuine. Brave." His hand stroked up the back of Jon's neck, rubbing the tension at the base of his skull. "I still think that," he said quietly.

Jon didn't know what to say. He didn't think of himself as brave, and whatever goodness he had didn't come easy. "You know you're amazing, right?" His voice was low, and he put his chin on his arm, slung over Kurt's ribcage, to look in his boyfriend's face. Kurt's eyebrows were lifted like Jon was telling a joke.

"There's no one like you, Kurt Visser." Jon tapped his fingers against Kurt's heart in time with the name. Frowning a little, Jon bit his lip. It turned out he had to say something about this. "That's what bothers me so much about Nicky. He's so patronizing towards you, when you're a capable, amazing person. You're not dime-a-dozen. He's an idiot if he thinks that."

Kurt's face went a little blank and he sat up, pulling away from Jon. "See—" Kurt said, then shoved a hand through his hair, his mouth flat. "I did not want to talk about this tonight," he said to himself.

Jon bit his tongue on the more he would have loved to say, waiting, his hands folded on his knees.

Kurt's face was tight, looking sideways at him. "You get the best version of me. And Nicky got piece-of-shit Kurt who was drinking and homeless and fucking around. He put me back on my feet so I even have a chance with you."

Jon's eyes narrowed, his skin prickling with anger. "Even if that's true, he shouldn't keep treating you like piece-of-shit Kurt when this is who you are now."

"You don't know anything about him!" Kurt threw out his hands expressively. "You don't get to just judge him on one thing you heard. So Nicky has his shitty days—so do I. We work together because we know that about each other."

Jon made a disgusted face at the phrase we work together. "He should treat you better," he said stubbornly. "You're creative and talented and fucking—ninety percent of what's good about your band. He should respect you and your decisions--like your decision to not drink."

"That is respect to Nicky," Kurt snapped. "I'm a grown-up. I should be able to be out with my friends and say 'no' to a drink and everyone doesn't have to change their plans for me. That's his way of showing respect."

Jon snorted. "Bullshit. That's his way of not considering you at all. I can't believe you're defending him right now."

Kurt opened his mouth like he would say something more, then shut it, standing up and pulling the roof off their tent. He tossed the pillows back on the bed, and gathered up the sheet without looking at Jon.

Jon got to his feet, hands fisting at his sides. "Are you serious right now? That's it, you're just going to bed?"

Kurt chucked the sheet on the torn-apart bed—an anti-climactic gesture because it 'poofed' open and settled gently on top of the mattress. "I said I didn't want to talk about Nicky." His voice was strained and low. "White, I'm just trying to get through this week. I hate where things are at with him and the band but it's not the time to take that on. We worked our asses off for this concert and I owe them. I gave Nicky a lot of shit over the years and now I can give him a little bit of the best version of Kurt. And then—you're right, I'm not stupid, I know something has to change. But I can't even look at that right now."

Kurt took an unsteady breath, his face hidden behind a wave of hair. "All I'm aiming at here is gettin' through and coming home to you. Your standards are like—up here." He put his hand over his head, like he was measuring how far under water he was. "And I'm lucky if I make it, like, here." He put his hand at hip level. "That's just going to have to be good enough for Kurt." He pushed his hand against his chest, his mouth crooked. "And I'm sorry if that's not good enough for you."

Every word went in, undoing Jon's certainty that he was right. When Kurt turned aside, Jon caught him, wrapping his arms around his body from behind. "It's good enough for me."

He felt his boyfriend take an unsteady breath and Jon tightened his arms around him, laying his cheek against his shoulder. "I didn't know any of that, okay? I hear you now. No more Nicky 'til the concert is done." He put his burning face against Kurt's neck, unable to say it right into the air. "I'm sorry." The words were muffled. "I shouldn't have pushed. Your boyfriend is an asshole sometimes. FYI."

Kurt was silent, his head bowed, and Jon moved around in front of him, stroking his hair back to see his face. "Okay?" Kurt nodded once. He looked crumpled and small, and Jon felt like even more of an asshole. He brushed his knuckles over Kurt's cheek, his throat aching. "Did you hear me say I'm sorry? I am, Kurt."

Kurt exhaled, closing his eyes and dropping his forehead against Jon's. "I heard you," he said low. "Can we just cuddle and go to sleep? I'm the furthest thing from sexy right now."

"Yeah," Jon said, half of his mouth smiling. "I love cuddling. I love sleep."

Silently, they remade the bed together, pulling the sheets tight and the blankets up snug over the pillows. Sliding between the sheets, Jon reached for Kurt, sliding his hands under his boyfriend's nightshirt to press his palms against the bare skin of Kurt's chest, rough with stubble, and hug him as close as possible. Kurt sighed, shakily, and wove his fingers through Jon's.

When Jon sparred with other men in Jui Jitsu the rules were clear. He was almost always over-matched in terms of size, so he could throw his full weight into a fight without worrying about hurting someone.

Over the years, something he'd had to drum into his awareness about Cary, who was by far his closest relationship, was that even though Cary was twice his size, in real-life conflict his friend was very fragile. The scars on Cary's skin had healed up nice and tight—the gaps and cracks under his skin from years of mistreatment at the hands of people who should have loved him, still had open, jagged edges that could bruise him again.

It felt to Jon like he was there again with Kurt. On the surface, Kurt seemed more comfortable with his body than Jon was. But tonight Jon had thrown himself into this fight without considering the seams under Kurt's skin, the damage Jon was just beginning to find the edges of.

He was well aware of how much of a hurtful asshole he could be when he got a hold of something he really thought was right. Jon White punched above his weight class and always had. It wasn't something he was proud of; this was the dark side to the self-assurance that came from having parents who loved him so unwaveringly. Jon never hesitated or second-guessed himself—he'd had to learn the hard way to consider the damage he might cause to others.

Kurt dropped to sleep in his arms while Jon laid awake, wrestling with himself.

Finally, breathing out, he thought to pray.

I'm not ready for this, he admitted. I'm not good enough to love this man. I'm afraid I'm going to hurt him and the last thing I want for Kurt is to do more harm.

He felt, as he breathed in, like the Father said back that this relationship was His idea in the first place, and He was pleased to weave Kurt even more closely with Jon, like He wasn't worried at all.

Carefully, Jon pulled his arms free of Kurt's unconscious body, rolling onto his back. His tears slid into his ears and he shook them off his face, putting his arms over his head. His shuddering breath filled every corner of his rib cage.

Please help me not to fuck this up. Amen.

*If you're wondering, Jon is thinking here about an experience he had in high school, when he deeply hurt Cary and almost broke their friendship. I wrote about  that experience in the SCARS trilogy, specifically Lay Me Down and Wake. It's not at all necessary to read the SCARS trilogy to enjoy this story--my intent has been for this book to stand alone.

If you're one of my readers who just jumped directly into For Us, can you tell me if that's working for you? Do you feel like I've been telling you everything you need to know to enjoy this story?

If you love to have all the words, the break between For Us and For Keeps is a good time to catch up on that trilogy, starting with 'Hiding-every scar has a story.' <3 Be well lovelies and thank you for reading!*

1992 words.