For Keeps

10. Plain good bread.

*This ones for the thoughtful CozyCurly, whose Zoom calls about the new chapters were a highlight through my COVID.*

Five hours on the couch at his work house counted as a night's sleep, right?

In staff meeting, Patrick was full of news about getting ready for his wedding, which was taking place on New Years day, just weeks away. Jon had never been so aware of how many of his staff had wedding rings on their fingers. He'd never thought of half the things Patrick mentioned: getting a license, finding an official, registering their marriage.

He drove home from work in a daze and staggered up the stairs to strip and fall into Kurt's bed, only pausing long enough to fold up his cashmere sweater and lay it on Kurt's pillow so it wouldn't get wrinkled. The covers were unmade and smelled like the other man; Jon rolled himself tight in Kurt's blankets and pulled his shirt over his face to just nap for a couple hours before he had to go to the university.

{Kurt}

Kurt was mid-way through an afternoon of work when his phone burbled with Jon's distinctive ringtone. He picked up, the sound of Cary on the nail gun loud in the background. "Natty Lite."

Jon sucked in a breath. "You're at work." His voice sounded thin and unsteady. "Sorry. I don't know what the hell time it is anymore."

"White, you okay?" Kurt asked.

His boyfriend made a sharp noise. "It's not urgent. Sorry for interrupting." He hung up.

Kurt stared at the phone, then rapidly texted: <I can take a break whats up?>

It was a couple minutes before the phone rang again, and Kurt ducked into the basement laundry room to take it.

"It's me. Sorry again." Jon exhaled and swore softly. His voice echoed like he was in a tin can.

"Where are you?" Kurt asked.

"Hiding in a stall in the men's washroom," Jon said in a small voice.

"What is going on?"

"I can't--Kurt I can't--" Jon made a broken noise and Kurt shoved the phone to his ear, his stomach dropping. "I can't marry you," Jon said.

Kurt sagged against the wall, sliding to the concrete floor, gutted.

"I was looking online at getting a license," Jon went on, rapid and shaky, "And just what it costs and all the boring shit I'm good at and--it's public. Anyone can look up who you're married to--it's public record."

"Oh shit," Kurt said.

"I love you," Jon said miserably. "I'm so fucking sorry."

"Are you--breaking up with me, White?" Kurt asked in a hollow voice.

Jon sucked in his breath. "What? No. Jesus, Kurt, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done this over the phone I just--I'm losing it in the men's washroom and I wanted to hear your voice. I don't know why I called, I'm an asshole, I'm sorry." Jon hung up.

Kurt put his face in his hands and burst into tears. Cary found him folded in front of the dryer crying into his work shirt.

"Visser," he said, bewildered. "What happened?"

"Jon's not breaking up with me and he wants to marry me," Kurt sobbed.

Cary stood for a second staring at him, then raised his eyes to the ceiling. "None of that sounds like new information. Why are we crying about this?"

"We're not," Kurt said, scrubbing his face on his shirt. "We're fine." He got to his feet, his eyes still overflowing. "I'm fine. I gotta see Jon tonight, is all."