{Kurt}

By the time Kurt finished moving his amps to the basement, he was sad again. He lined each of the familiar shapes carefully beside the mini fridge, thinking he would be carrying them upstairs again next week to move. He'd been hoping maybe he and Jon could work something out over time, if Jon could find time for him in his schedule somehow.

Jon had been so rigid and distant in their most recent conversation that Kurt doubted now that he was interested.

On the main floor, he folded cross-legged on their carpet and pulled the familiar shape of his guitar onto his lap for the first time since Jon retrieved her for him, fingering chords on her neck. Kurt just touched the strings with the pads of his fingers, making them whisper their notes. He was going to have to figure out how to be Kurt Visser alone. He'd suspected as much, but flinched away from the thought. He was shit at being alone.

Leaning his cheek against the smooth hip of his guitar, he reminded himself he would have AA and Laurel. Douglas at work. Maybe without him here, stressing him out, Jon would smile again and laugh and Douglas would tell him stories about happy Jon sometimes.

Kurt swiped the back of his hand over his eyes. He set his guitar on its stand next to the carpet and trudged upstairs to go to bed alone.

On his way back from brushing his teeth, he checked Jon's open door automatically. The other man's bed was empty, neatly made, all the lights still on in the room. Kurt glanced around the hall like he might have missed him in passing. He nudged open the door to Cary's empty room and then poked his head into the darkened attic. Through the topmost window of the house he could plainly see Jon's car parked in the back.

Kurt frowned. Coming down the stairs, he heard a sound, and paused, swivelling his head to listen. It was a muffled human cry, stretching and cracking into silence.

"Jon?" he called, his feet hurrying down the rest of the stairs. "Where the hell are you?"

After a moment, there was another soft, drawn-out cry that made Kurt's chest squeeze. He followed it back to Jon's room, checking around the bed and under the bed, his heart pattering in his chest.

A shuffling noise came from the closet and Kurt threw open the door, blinking at Jon's collapsed body curled in the shadows, his arms clenched over his head. With a swear, Kurt crawled into the small space to try and see Jon's face, to check if he was conscious and could get up with his help.

Jon's eyes were squeezed shut, his hair damp and curling with sweat. Kurt shook his shoulder and patted Jon's cheek. "White. Can you hear me?" But the other man was taking deep shuddering breaths, so buried in pain he didn't respond.

Quickly, Kurt scrambled out of the closet, turning off all the lights in the room and the hall as he fumbled for his phone. "Douglas," he said sharply when Cary picked up. "Is there a spare key. For the med box. Jon's down. I didn't catch it. I don't know how long he's been like this."

"Between the mattresses," Cary said. "Under my pillow. You remember the dose?"

Kurt rattled off what Cary had told him before.

"Yup," Cary said. "You got this. I'll be there in a bit."

When Kurt had managed with fumbling hands to get Jon's meds out of the box, he crammed himself back in the closet, bending over Jon's body to try to rouse him. "Med time. Come on darlin'."

Jon writhed slowly, a breathy cry dragging out of his body and making tears start in Kurt's own eyes. How the hell had Jon let this migraine get so far along without telling him, like he wouldn't care to help? He must have known it was coming on for hours.

Wedging his shoulders into the corner, Kurt hauled Jon up onto his chest like he was a child. Jon dug his face against Kurt's ribs, whimpering. His shirt was soaked with sweat, the muscles under Kurt's hands bunched and trembling. His teeth were clenched closed.

"Help me, you stubborn gay," Kurt growled in his ear, running his thumb over Jon's lips. "Open up, Jon."

With a small, desperate noise, Jon opened his mouth and Kurt swiftly set the pills on his tongue. He covered Jon's mouth, stroking his throat. "Please swallow. Please swallow. Come on, love." He felt Jon swallow convulsively and fumbled for the glass of water, spilling half of it on them both in his attempt to get any of it into Jon.

Kurt stayed like that, holding Jon tight against the slow, pained convulsions that went through the other man's body like waves. Gradually, Jon's breathing relaxed until he was heavy with sleep against Kurt's chest, face flushed, lips parted, his hands still tangled in Kurt's shirt.

Cary found them like that when he nudged the closet door open. Kurt blinked up at him, his arms tightening around Jon's sleeping body.

"I'm aware this is a terrible metaphor," Kurt said, trying to sound funny and just sounding shaky instead.

Cary huffed a quiet laugh. "I take it you got his meds in him?"

Kurt nodded. His fingers rubbed the soft brush cut on the back of Jon's neck. "We were together right before this and—he never told me he was in pain."

"Yeah?" Cary said, jerking the blankets back on Jon's bed and fluffing up the pillows. "Not surprised. Jon's a fighter. Hates to ask for something he really needs." He sighed. "He's a bit of a pain to live with, to be honest. I have to keep an eye on him all the time and guess what he's not telling me. I guess I'll be back to looking after him on my own when you go."

He glanced back at Kurt, his dark eyes unreadable in the dim room. "Unless you two worked it out? I saw the stuff got put away. This mean things are good between you?"

Kurt made a helpless noise, hiding his face against Jon's hair. This Jon in his arms and the Jon who'd raked him with his searchlight eyes felt like two different people. He was bewildered by how afraid of Jon he'd been all week. "No."

Cary bent his head, fiddling with the blanket. "Well. That's that. Guess we'll be old bachelors forever."

Kurt scoffed, postponing the moment he had to let Jon go. "You'll find someone. You both will."

"Maybe you're right," Cary said. "Think he had his heart set on you but--he's young yet." He went to one knee, holding out his arms. "Give him here."

Kurt hugged Jon to himself. "No," he said huskily. "Don't want to."

"You can't lift with your body beat up like it is," Cary said. "He's heavier than he looks. Give him to me."

Reluctantly, Kurt finally let Jon go and Cary scooped him into his arms, standing with a grunt and crossing to the bed to lay Jon down. Cary's big hands tucked the blanket around Jon's shoulders, his mouth worried as he glanced in Jon's face.

Kurt crawled out of the closet and got stiffly to his feet.

"But you talked?" Cary said, glancing back at him. "Why couldn't you clear things up between you?"

Kurt cleared his tight throat, thinking about how angry and...triggered he had been going into that conversation. "I don't know." He shoved his hand through his hair. "I—he's cold as hell, Cary."

Cary crossed his arms, shifting his weight off his left hip. "What did you expect? You told him you're leaving." His eyes weighed Kurt under his straight dark eyebrows. "I told you he was private. No one gets to walk around in Jon's heart for free."

Kurt realized Cary had placed his body in front of Jon's unconscious form, like he was guarding him. From Kurt. He hugged his arms around himself, blinking his stinging eyes.

"I never seen Jon let someone in like he did you," Cary said gruffly. "I'm going to be picking up a million broken pieces when you go." He sighed, turning aside to fix Jon's blankets once more. "But you do what you gotta do, Kurt. I won't judge you for it."

Kurt leaned to one side to catch a look at Jon's face, buried in his freckled arm. For a moment he'd had access to the inside of Jon White's heart, and the intimate little details of his day. Not just for a moment--almost as long as he'd known Jon, the other man had just handed him the key. Kurt hadn't thought about how rare that gift was--or how cold he would feel if Jon shut him out the way he did everyone else.

Cary checked the time on his phone. "When's his next dose?"

"Four fifteen," Kurt managed. "I set my alarm already."

"I got him from here," Cary said. "You go get your beauty sleep." He held the door open and Kurt had to leave, shuffling past with one glance back at Jon. Cary stepped into the hall and firmly closed the door.

"Night, Visser," he said. "Thanks for catching him. You're a good friend."

Kurt went to his own room and sat on the edge of the bed, lifting his eyes to look around. The neutral colours felt restful to him now, not boring. They were the perfect backdrop for the extravagance of his colourful scarves and clothes and books. His hands closed, remembering the feel of Jon's body in his arms. He wasn't sure, now, if he was going to get to hold him again.

He imagined Cary settling in to live with Jon over the long haul and a stab of jealousy pierced Kurt. He would even have chosen that, a body that didn't desire Jon or respond to him, but still got to be with him every day. The past hour had cut Jon loose from the tangle of mixed feelings Kurt had about his father and Nicky and put the other man back in his own category.

Kurt Visser might not understand a man like Jon White—but he at least knew now who Jon was not.

The question was if he was going to get another chance to walk into Jon's heart and learn who Jon was.

*Is it just me or is Cary is turning the screws on Kurt? I can't help wonder if he's doing it on purpose... love that guy lol.

Thanks for the reads, votes and comments, lovelies! Lot's of goodies for you next week....*

1845 words.