{Jon}

When Jon's alarm rang at 8 a.m. Saturday morning, Kurt's arms wrapped around his waist, keeping him from getting out of bed. "What time is it?" Kurt groaned from under the blankets.

"Time to do homework," Jon said, "If I want to spend the rest of the weekend with you."

Kurt nuzzled his face into his back. "Don't you sleep in on Saturday?"

Jon laughed softly, freeing himself from Kurt's arms. "Yeah. This is."

Kurt rolled over, smushing his face into his pillow. "I'm not getting' up till noon," he grumbled. "S'gonna be a long night."

It was well past noon, and Jon was writing the last details of a bibliography for his last essay when he heard the shower start upstairs. He lifted his head, and got up to start the coffee. There was a little buzz of anxiety in his stomach for Kurt, thinking about the packed venue his boyfriend would be playing tonight. The idea of standing in the spotlight in front of all those people carrying the full show sounded terrifying to Jon.

When Kurt padded into the kitchen, it was obvious he was more than ready for the spotlight. His white-blond hair was tousled in artfully messy chunks over his dramatically painted eyes. A sleeveless sequinned top draped his lean body, shimmering when he moved. His feet were bare below his black skinny jeans, and he held up a heel in one hand and his cowboy boot in the other.

"White, I can't decide."

Jon's mouth was hanging open and he quickly closed it, feeling his cheeks pink up. "Uh... what are your options?"

Kurt looked from the shoe to the boot, swivelling his hips in a way that made it hard for Jon to keep his eyes on his face. "Well Nicky wants a more mainstream look tonight so I think maybe my boots. But they're kinda scuffed up compared to--" He gestured over his sequinned body.

"Uh-huh, true," Jon said, like he knew anything about fashion. "So which do you want?"

Kurt slowly raised the nude, patent heel to cover his grinning mouth, his blue eyes sparkling.

Jon laughed. "Definitely the heels then."

His boyfriend slid them on and threw his arms in the air, turning for Jon to admire. "Good? How do I look?"

"Hella hot," Jon said, a little breathlessly. "No one's going to be able to take their eyes off you." He bit his lip. "Will it wreck your make up if I kiss you right now?"

"Nuh-uh." Kurt shook his head, his lips curling up in a smile. "I can do it again."

Jon hopped his butt up onto the counter. "C'mere," he said, reaching out his hands. "I need a little boost to reach you." He wrapped his legs around Kurt's hips as they kissed, sighing with contentment as he stroked his fingers over the skin of his boyfriend's bare arms.

Eyes closed, Kurt played a chord on Jon's chest. "Tonight is going to be epic, obviously. But I feel like tomorrow is going to be even more epic. How would you like to drive out to Jasper for some mountain views?"

"I would love it," Jon said.

Kurt chuckled a little, looking at him through his eyelashes. "The times are a-changing, Jon. I blame your sweet honey lips." He leaned in for one more taste, and sighed. "Gotta get to work, love. I'm taking the truck, yes?"

Jon's eyebrows lifted. "No, Cary has it. He's spending the day at the folks."

"Shit, I'm so stupid." Kurt rapped his knuckles against his forehead. "Plan. A. Head."

Jon dropped lightly off the counter. "I'll just take you. I'm pretty much done this paper and I need to drive up to campus to hand it in anyways. When's your car out of the shop?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Never. The guy says he'll give me two-hundred bucks for the parts and to kiss the piece of shit good bye."

Jon laughed. "Well you have time for a coffee while I just print this off."

Kurt was practically vibrating with energy when they pulled in behind The Barns club and concert venue with his guitar in the backseat. This time of day, the parking lot was deserted, a handful of cars tucked next to the back door. Jon bit the corner of his mouth, feeling Kurt's excitement buzzing in his stomach.

"A million people are going to want selfies with you tonight," Jon said. And he was going to have to stay in the shadows, out of his boyfriend's spotlight.

Kurt flashed him a warm look. "I only care about one. C'mere Jon." He held out his phone, tucking his face next to Jon's for the selfie. He checked the photo, a little extra colour in his cheeks. "God you adorable thing," he said to himself.

"Send that to me," Jon said.

Quickly, Kurt clasped the back of Jon's neck with his long, calloused fingers, and kissed him. "See you tonight," Kurt said against his lips. "And tomorrow. And the next day. And the next." And then he was gone, tip-tapping over the asphalt with his heels and his guitar, his head held high.

A moment after he disappeared inside the building, a text dropped into Jon's phone: the photo, and the words <i love you jon white>

The smell of hairspray lingered in the car as Jon drove home, and he couldn't stop smiling.

*

At dinner time, Cary returned home with a couple servings of the shepherd's pie Mel had made for lunch. Jon could barely eat a bite. He wished he could imagine what Kurt was doing right now—soundcheck? Supper with Nicky and the band? Jon shrugged into his hoodie and stuffed his cap on his head, wishing he dared dress up in the shirt Kurt had bought him. At least his gold and purple sneakers were fabulous.

They pulled up to The Barns in Cary's truck. In the dark, the building's ordinary cinderblock walls and flaking paint were invisible and the matinee sign glowed over the entrance, a line-up of people down the block under the letters shouting 'TONIGHT KURT KLASSEN' and his band name.

"Holy shit, this is happening," Jon whispered.

Cary grunted agreement. "Your guy is going to be over the moon."

Jon giggled. "I'm so nervous for him; I hate this."

Cary huffed a laugh. "I bet Kurt's not. You just enjoy the show."

Jon's fingers found his phone in his hoodie pocket, and he closed his eyes moment, holding the words inside himself: love you.

It was the last quiet moment of the evening. The club music pounded their ears and the room was wall to wall people. Jon had to hang onto the back of Cary's jacket to keep from being separated while they looked for a seat, or even just a spot to stand.

"Jon!" The voice pierced the crowd noise, and Jon scanned around, finding a slim brown arm waving wildly in the air. Angel was grinning at him from a table with her co-worker Patrick, a woman he didn't recognize, and a handful of other casual staff from the house. His stomach clenched, but now that they'd made eye contact he felt he had to make his way over.

"Fancy meeting you here, boss," Angel said. "This is Tiffany, Pat's fiance." The woman Jon didn't recognize waved a hand, her engagement ring glittering on her finger. Angel had to raise her voice to be heard, her electric pink hair standing up in a crested wave that gave her at least another four inches of height. "I told Pat he needed to broaden his horizons. I played him some of their music and he was hooked."

Patrick shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "I've always been a country fan—their lead singer is like a young Johnny Cash. What's his name again?"

"Kurt," Angel and Jon said at the same time. She gave him a side-eye. "I should have known you would be a fan. Were you at the last show?"

Jon was finding it difficult to get a full breath in; anxiety was laced around his ribs and pulled tight. He hated to mix the parts of his life—but he hated to lie more. "Yeah, I caught a bit of it."

"Oh god, that last song," Angel said. "'Lover's prayer' just brought the house down. Everyone was, like, slow-dancing beside their tables. I hope they do it again tonight."

Jon stepped back to try and make his exit, bumping into bodies and smiling apologetically. "Nice to see you--"

Patrick's eyes widened as a hand touched the small of Jon's back. "There you are--" a smoky voice said in his ear and Jon turned swiftly, catching Kurt's eyes.

"These are some friends from work." Jon's voice was clipped and short, and his boyfriend's eyebrows flicked upward in understanding and alarm.

Kurt transitioned smoothly, turning to the others at the table, who looked stunned and...hopefully... just star-struck at his appearance. "Well I'm just making the rounds before the show to meet the people," Kurt drawled. "Howdy, pleased to meet you." He put out his hand to Patrick, who got up half-way to shake it, stuttering introductions of the rest of the table.

Jon avoided Angel's searching look, swiftly putting as much space as possible between Kurt's body and his own. He squeezed through the crowd to where Cary was holding a space on the back wall, watching for him. Pulling his cap down low, Jon texted Kurt:

<so sorry I had no idea they'd be here *wide-eyed emoji*>

<see you after the show I promise I'm staying to the end even if I have to hide behind the bar lol>

Minutes later, Kurt replied: <where u gonna be? find a booth?>

<standing in the back> Jon glanced over his head. <under the natty lite sign lol>

<I'll be looking for u *red heart*>

<*heart face*>

The show was throbbing and electric, the drum-beat thudding in Jon's chest and making his feet tap in spite of his dislike of the drummer. Under the lights, Kurt appeared to be made of pure energy, and tonight the crowd was putty in his hands, swaying as one, hanging on his lyrics, jumping and waving their hands.

The only thing Jon missed was Kurt's tender vulnerability when he was stripped back to just him and his guitar. He saw what Nicky envisioned for the show, but it wasn't quite the Kurt he knew and loved.

Kurt did play 'Lovers Prayer.' Jon recognized the opening chords and held his breath, a little heartbroken that this meant the music was over already. Kurt made that first chord sustain endlessly in the air, eyes lowered. He leaned into the mic. "This is for everyone who's been unlucky in love. Don't give up hope, darlin's. I'm standing here today to say, love is out there for you. When you find it--you just know." His grin flashed and Jon felt like his eyes lasered in on him.

For this one song, it was just Kurt and his guitar, and some ethereal pads. Jon melted, leaning his shoulders against the wall and closing his eyes to listen. It felt like Kurt plucked the strings of his heart and his whole body was vibrating in harmony.

For years, Jon had believed he would never get a love story of his own. He had pieced together enough friend-love and family-love to get him through, but friends were shared. Family members were shared. He wasn't someone special to any of them, just one of a beloved group of people.

He was someone special to Kurt Visser.

Astoundingly, when Kurt looked over this whole swaying crowd of people he was looking for Jon, tucked in a shadow under a flickering fluorescent 'Natural Lite' logo. Jon felt himself unwind, opening, and for a moment in spite hundreds of others packing the room, it was just him and Kurt and these threads of peace and love weaving between them in a way that made them both better.

As the crowd's roar of applause rose at the close of the show, Jon impulsively texted: <meet me backstage>

He made his way around the packed room to the hallway behind the stage, head ducked low, hood up. Leaning against the wall next to the men's room, Jon watched the band under the lights unplugging their instruments and talking with fans, his heart thundering. It took a minute for Kurt to glance at his phone, but Jon's guess had been correct: he was still getting Jon's notifs.

Swiftly Kurt excused himself and ducked into the relative shelter of the hallway, looking sideways at Jon as he came toward him, like he didn't want to get too close. Jon caught Kurt's belt loop, tugging him into his body.

Kurt flashed him a grin, tucking his hands into Jon's hood to clasp them behind his neck, but his eyes were tight with worry. "You shouldn't be here, love, it's not safe for you."

"You're worth the risk," Jon said in a fierce undertone. He pulled Kurt's face down to his and kissed him with all the intensity he felt at the concert. They were both breathless when Jon let up, and he still clasped Kurt's waist, fingers electric against the bare skin above his jeans. "I love you, Kurt Visser."

Kurt's eyes lit up softly, and he took a breath. "I love you too," he whispered. "I just have to tear down here and talk to some people. You should get out of here—I can grab a cab. See you at home?"

Another voice intruded, loud and braying, "Oh my god, Klassen, where the hell have you been? The whole world is waiting for you."

Jon snatched his hand off his boyfriend's skin, eyes wide on Kurt's.

Nicky was waving his arms at the person tagging along behind him with a camera already raised to his eye. "This nice man is from the Journal and wants to do an interview with us--" Nicky stopped short, eyes flicking behind Kurt as Jon ducked his head and pulled his cap brim over his face. "Who the fuck is this--your new little boy toy?"

"This is no one." Kurt laughed, giving Jon a little shove towards the exit doors. "Don't be jealous of the fans, Nicky, they're putting food on our table."

Hands on the door bar, Jon glanced around the edge of his hood, watching Kurt sling his arms around Nicky's chest, and Nicky's hand grip his waist where Jon's had been, moments before. His body felt rigid with horror and alarm.

"How long have you two been together?" the reporter asked, already distracted.

"God, forever," Kurt said lightly. "Me 'n Nicky have been making music, making love, making a scene all over town since I graduated high school. We're a beautiful fucking love story really."

Jon slipped out the back door, unnoticed, the night air cool against his burning face. He sagged against the cinderblock side of the building, feeling like he might be sick. Every single word felt like it was jammed down his throat. Blinking hard against tears, he texted Cary.

<take me home? I'm around the back>

{Kurt}

It was a dangerous game to play with Nicky, who knew all his bullshit and was suspicious as hell at the best of times. They were hilarious for the reporter, bantering back and forth like an old married couple, like the break up never happened. Exactly like they had done last time they'd broken up and gotten back together without a word said about the time apart, or the reasons Kurt had left in the first place.

He barely registered what was coming out of his mouth, still vibrating from the look of pure terror Jon had given him in the hallway. Across the room, Kurt caught sight of a dark, messy head heading for the exit.

At the door, Cary turned and scanned the room and Kurt thought desperately at him: Get Jon the fuck home. Go.

When the interview was done, the band and hangers-on packed into the booth on either side of them, and Nicky was purring with all the attention. He called for a round of drinks, and Kurt sucked his back like water, like he needed to drink to keep breathing. He pulled out his cell to call a cab, and Nicky plucked it out of his hand.

"Who're you texting, babe?"

Stomach sinking, Kurt tried to grab it back, but the table was crowded and Nicky was more stubborn than he was. He settled back with a laugh, his ears hot. "Just calling a cab; come on Nicky, give it back."

"I'm taking you home," Nicky said, tucking the phone into his pocket and pulling Kurt onto his lap. "God you were hot tonight, Klassen, I couldn't take my eyes off of you."

Nicky's hands were everywhere and after a minute of laughing and trying to twist away, Kurt gave up. He could barely breathe. The part that made him most himself walked out the door and left his body behind, with a shadow of Kurt Visser to pull the strings, lifting his arm to drink.

2737 words.