{Jon}

Jon finished the night cleaning and was agonizing over an email to his boss about the staff response to Jordin's pronoun change when his personal phone buzzed against his stomach. Sighing, he pushed away from the desk, pulling out his phone.

Kurt: <thinking about you *red heart*>

Checking the time, Jon thumbed the call button.

"Hey, it's my Natty Lite." Kurt's voice was warm and Jon's mouth lifted in a smile.

"Hey," he said softly back. "It's my love."

Kurt chuckled. "How's the night?"

Jon squeezed the top of his neck, walking to the kitchen to look out at the darkened street. "Um. A bit of catch up from missing my shift yesterday." There was a beat of quiet and he realized maybe he hadn't told Kurt he'd got someone to cover his shift for him so they could stay home together. "Some unhappy staff to deal with and boring emails to write. Same same. You? Sleeping okay?"

"Mm-hm," Kurt said. "You should see our room now. Cary got me all the rainbows."

Jon's laugh felt like it unknotted his stomach. He was so relieved that Kurt's first night alone wasn't being plagued by night fears. "Did you make it to your meeting? Any stories?"

Kurt sighed. "Didn't get my shit together to go, no. I'll be there today or my sponsor will be all up in my DMs asking where I've been. He's excellent like that," he drawled.

Easing his neck from side to side, Jon remembered standing by another darkened window, waiting for Cary to bring Kurt home. He knew very little about this part of Kurt's life and he thought his boyfriend seemed relaxed enough to talk about it.

"What's it like for you?" Jon asked. "Can you stop drinking once you start?"

"Yeah," Kurt said slowly. "On a good night. When I'm feeling okay I could walk away. But I might drink more thinking I'm good and then-it's like trying to walk against a river running the other direction. Eventually it's just gonna catch my legs up and send me head over heels. Drowned. I figured out it's better just to not get in that river at all. Never know how deep it's gonna be."

"Saturday wasn't a good night."

"Saturday was a fucking tidal wave," Kurt said roughly. "I didn't think anyone was coming for me and Nicky was hauling my ass all over town before taking me back to his place." Jon heard him take an unsteady breath.

Jon's free hand fisted, his fingernails digging into his palm. "I should've just waited in the truck for you." His voice was pressed. "I'm so sorry we left you behind."

It was quiet a moment, then Kurt said, "Nobodies' fault but my own, White. You shoulda been able to leave me for forty-five minutes to look after myself. That's my shit, not yours."

Jon rubbed his fist into his stinging eyes.

"Cary has a new project I'm helping him with," Kurt said, changing the subject.

"Yeah?" Jon said, clearing his tight throat.

Kurt described The Ringmaster in far more detail than Jon was able to picture for himself and he smiled as he listened, loving the quiet happiness in his boyfriend's voice. They were silent together a few moments, then Kurt said muzzily, "Night, love. I'm sleepy now. See you in a few."

When Jon got home, he nudged open the door to the room he shared with Kurt. Stars and planets were turning faintly over the walls and passing over the blanket lump of Kurt, asleep. Quietly, Jon slipped out of his hoodie and jeans and slid between the covers. His hand bumped Kurt's bare back and the other man jerked, making a soft noise of alarm, swimming around to see who was behind him.

"It's me," Jon said quickly, his chest squeezing. "Kurt, it's me."

Kurt fell back on the pillows, laughing shakily. "Snuck up on me, White. Like a ninja."

Jon crossed his arms against his chest, digging his fingers into the muscles of his own arms. "Sorry. I didn't want to wake you."

Kurt reached for him. "Why ever not?" he asked huskily. At his nudge, Jon turned over so they fit together like spoons. "Want me to cuddle you to sleep?" Kurt asked. His lips brushed the back of Jon's neck, his body warm and almost bare, folded around his. "Or other things?"

At this, Jon's body sent him such mixed signals he was quiet a moment, trying to understand himself. Grief and anger were heavy in his stomach, and yet he was pretty sure he could have rolled over and spent the morning giving Kurt whatever he wanted. He drew Kurt's arm around his shoulders, kissing the inside of his wrist, closing his eyes on the bruise pressed yellow and purple into Kurt's skin. He found each of Kurt's fingertips with his lips, and then folded his hand into his own, drawing it against his chest.

"I'm up for whatever," Jon said. "Call the play, love."

Humming, Kurt kissed behind Jon's ear, and in the corner of his jaw. He turned Jon's face with his palm, finding his lips with his. Jon opened his mouth for him, pushing his shoulders securely back into Kurt's chest. Kurt shivered, then hugged him harder, wrapping a leg over his hip like he would mould his body into Jon's. It was a little difficult to breathe, and Jon undid all his defences to let Kurt hold him too tight, kissing him back so so soft.

They both heard the 'clomp' of Cary heading down the stairs to make coffee, and Kurt hid his face against Jon's neck. His arms squeezed until Jon squeaked, then let him go with an unsteady laugh. "I could hug you all day, Jon."

Jon made a dry noise, catching his breath and turning over to stroke Kurt's hair back from his face. "I would be fine with that." His voice was soft and frayed. "I'll just cancel life today so we can hug." He was only half joking.

Kurt's lips curled up, his blue eyes warm. "Supper tonight?"

Jon nodded, making a smile back. As Kurt kissed him good bye, Jon wished he could forget the last person who'd had his mouth on Kurt's, who could still make his boyfriend flinch in the safety of their own bedroom.

Normally on a day he didn't have classes, Jon went to the University to do homework in one of the libraries. Today he set up his laptop in his own kitchen, hoping the resources he needed for his literature review were online. When the front door thumped mid-afternoon, he glanced at the clock. Too early for Cary to be done work.

The lights were off in the kitchen and Kurt passed the doorway without noticing him, slowly climbing the stairs, pulling his work shirt over his head as he went. Jon dropped his eyes to his keyboard, listening to the sound of the tub running.

On instinct, he called Cary. "What's Visser doing home?" he asked in an undertone.

There was a long pause. "He's got a concussion," Cary said evenly. "And I'm pretty sure he's bruised up in some personal places. He's not moving too good."

Jon took a breath, trying to steady himself. His knee jumped under the table.

"You're sleeping with him and not talking about this shit?" Cary asked.

Jon's face flamed and he made a sharp noise. "We're literally just sleeping together. God, Cary."

"Uh-huh," Cary said drily. "You a little pissed at me right now for something?"

"I'm a little pissed at everyone right now." There was an edge to the words. The last couple days had felt like being in the ring taking hits from someone who had a longer reach-he just wanted to crowd in and get a few hits of his own.

Cary took his time answering, long enough for Jon to sort out that actually he wasn't angry with Cary, or with Kurt for that matter. What Cary just told him was a hell of a private thing and just because he was Kurt's boyfriend, didn't mean he had access to everything about Kurt Visser.

"Don't try and take this on, Jon," Cary said, gruffly. "Okay? Kurt's a survivor. He's been taking care of himself longer than either of us. It hasn't been perfect, but there's a reason he's not with Nicky anymore and there's a reason he's been sober five months minus these slip ups. If he needs something, he'll let you know. Just let him do his thing."

"Okay, but that's the point," Jon said, low and fierce. "When it comes to Nicky, he doesn't stand up for himself-he can't say what he needs. If you weren't looking out for him on Saturday-"

"He would've picked up and brushed off," Cary said shortly. "You probably don't want to hear this, but this isn't Kurt's first rodeo. Yeah I'm fucking glad he lives with us now and has you in his life. But he's been getting his shit together without us before this, and he'll survive without us after."

Jon sat back hard in his chair, his jaw clenching. "You're right-I don't want to hear that," he said shortly, and hung up. He shot up from his chair, pacing two steps across the kitchen. He stood for a second, arms clenched over his body, staring blindly out the window, then yanked open a kitchen drawer where he kept his clean wraps.

He was swiftly wrapping his hands, adrenaline and endorphins already going when his phone chimed. An email alert pinged on his computer shortly after. He danced from foot to foot, looking at the clock, trying to calculate how to get everything done before his work shift, and get a forty-minute work out break right now.

He muttered a swear, tore the wraps off his hands and threw himself back into his chair to check his emails.

His fingers were rolling and unrolling his wrappings while he re-read his finished assignment when Kurt slouched into the kitchen, his hair tousled and damp against the collar of his T-shirt.

"Thought I heard you down here, White," he said.

Jon made a flat smile, setting the wrappings aside. "Homework day."

Kurt eased into the chair next to him, slumping to lay his cheek on the table. Quickly, Jon folded away the feelings he'd been focusing on a moment before, worry wrinkling his forehead. "You okay?"

Kurt nodded, his lips quivering. His fingers pressed a chord on the edge of the table. "Just miss my guitar." He hid his face in the crook of his arm, his laugh cracking. "Stupid, I know. I feel like she's been kidnapped and, like, murdered. I went online to look at something new and...none of them are her and I can't fucking afford them anyways. I need to replace my car first."

Jon touched his eyes to the top of the cupboards, feeling like he couldn't look at Kurt's crumpled body without starting to cry or losing his shit. Blindly, he reached out a hand and found Kurt's, squeezing it.

Kurt exhaled and straightened, wiping his nose on his cuff. "Ughhh adulting is hard."

Easier when your ex-boyfriend isn't a possessive asshole, Jon thought to himself, but he had just enough self-control to keep that snarky voice on the inside.

Kurt got up, his fingers brushing Jon's shoulders on the way by. "You want a coffee for your homework day?"

"Yeah, I'd love that," Jon said. He tapped a few edits on his literature review, hearing the clatter of Kurt putting the kettle on behind him. Then his boyfriend's hands were on his shoulders, his thumbs digging into the tension in Jon's neck.

Groaning, Jon bent his head and braced himself on the table. He could feel the pressure from Kurt's fingers all the way down his arms to the back of his hands.

"Darlin' there's a story back here," Kurt remarked.

It felt like Kurt's fingers stroked the words out of him. "Work shit is getting to me," Jon said, low. "Some of my staff are having a hard time wrapping their heads around Jordin's new pronouns. My boss wants to meet Thursday to "address the situation" and I'm dreading it. I've been trying to cram in reading about trans kids to defend Jordin and I just-don't know what he's going to say."

Kurt smoothed his palms from the big muscles on the top of Jon's shoulders, up his neck to the base of his skull. "Well I'm guessing you're carrying that right here."

Jon shoved his laptop away and put his head on his arms for Kurt's hands to work their magic. "You're not wrong. Thank you, Kurt."

"You getting enough sleep?" Kurt asked.

"No," Jon admitted into the dark space made by his folded arms. Worry about Kurt was waking him up before his alarm and worry about Jordin was keeping him up once he'd startled out of sleep.

Kurt sighed, finishing by stroking his fingers through Jon's hair, making Jon shiver and exhale with relief. It felt like his skin fit him properly again for the first time all week. He put his cheek on his arms to watch Kurt set up a pour over, making the coffee exactly like Cary.

"Can we do something this weekend that's just... nothing to do with this shitty week?" Jon asked.

Kurt looked over his shoulder at him, his lips curling. "I think we should. I have some ideas. How do you feel about surprises, Jon?"

Jon's smile felt more like the real thing. "As long as the surprise isn't that you're not there. I'm game for anything with you."

Neither of them felt like cooking, and Cary stayed out late finishing a job. Jon ate salmon out of a can and munched on a cucumber while he rapidly finished his homework. Kurt ate cereal for supper, drinking the milk out of the bowl like he was five years old. At 7 p.m. Cary blew through the house, grabbed a shower, and then Kurt was kissing Jon good bye, heading to an AA meeting with Cary.

In the quiet kitchen, Jon found himself alone with Kurt's old phone propped on the table in front of him. As he shut down his laptop to head to work, he took it in his hand, squeezing to turn it on. The text thread between Kurt and Nicky glowed up at him, and he bit the corner of his mouth.

He got that Kurt didn't want to see Nicky again, but that didn't mean Jon couldn't see him. He hated the way this had ended, with Kurt paying the cost out of his own body and Nicky hoarding the things Kurt loved like Smaug on his treasure pile. Jon didn't believe in dragons.

Jon tapped the compose icon before he could think twice. <u still on nights? I want to pick up my guitar and shit tomorrow>

He sent the text to Nicky, then had another thought and added: <u can deal with me or my boyfriend which do u want>

Nicky had not responded before he had to leave, so Jon stuck the phone in his pocket to take to work.

At midnight, Nicky's reply buzzed against his stomach: <what time tomorrow>

Jon's heart drummed when he saw it and he texted <8 AM> his fingers shaking with adrenaline.

<be there> Nicky said.

Jon's lips curved. <np> "Can't wait to get up close and personal with you, Nicky," he said softly.

2561 words.