For Keeps

16. Eight-hundred pound gorillas.

{Kurt}

Kurt kept an eye on his partner through their supper meal; it seemed like Jon recovered some of his usual forward momentum after Thai noodles and veg stir fry and a bullet proof coffee crafted by Cary's expert hands.

As he washed up their dishes, Jon asked, "Anything you want me to wear tonight, Visser?"

Kurt brightened. "Is your dove shirt clean?"

"How do you feel about checking my closet to find out, while I finish up here?" Jon asked, giving him half a smile.

Humming, Kurt bounded up the stairs to pull together a look for his partner tonight, laying the clothes out on their bed in his room. He felt a hopeful buzz in his stomach as he leaned back on his hands to watch Jon change. Tonight he was getting all the stories he'd been missing this week, right from Jon's mouth, and he didn't care if Jon thought they were shitty. They were Jon's stories and he loved Jon.

Fumbling with his buttons, Jon fisted his hands and shook them out, swearing softly.

"Are you nervous?" Kurt asked. "You don't need to be nervous."

Jon made a dry noise. "I don't think you realize how much I hate talking in front of people. Let alone about shit I don't say to anyone."

"Not literally in front of people," Kurt said. "We can sit in the back. You just talk from your chair."

Jon shot him a look. "I love you, Visser. And that's barely a comfort. Everyone is still going to be looking at me." He ducked his head, swallowing and smoothing his hand over his stomach.

Kurt almost pointed out that he didn't have to come, but some instinct kept him quiet. Jon had pulled his shit together in the last hour, but he wondered now if his partner needed this meeting more than he did. "You do look pretty fine," he said instead, smiling and wiggling his eyebrows.

"Ha," Jon said, but a small answering smile flickered over his face. Tugging on his cashmere sweater, he shoved the sleeves up his arms and shook out his shoulders. "Okay. I'm ready."

In the car, Kurt flicked the radio to a smooth jazz station he hoped would be soothing. It was funny how different people could be--he loved having everyone's eyes on him. He'd wriggled into a pair of hot purple denim jeggings tonight knowing everyone would turn to look as he went by. One of the only things he'd enjoyed about AA his first weeks attending was the feeling of people not only looking at him, but also listening without interrupting and really hearing him.

He laid his free hand palm up on Jon's jumping knee and his partner clasped it tight, his palm clammy. Jon's knee settled.

As they hung up their coats on the hooks at the back of the classroom Jon stayed close to Kurt's shoulder, watching everything with a neutral, friendly expression that Kurt recognized from church youth group days. It occurred to him for the first time how much his introverted partner must have hated the attention that came with being the pastor's kid.

Catching sight of Laurel's flame red hair across the room, Kurt wiggled his fingers at her, unable to suppress a mischievous smile. Laurel was going to lose her shit that he'd brought Jon to this meeting.

Laurel practically made a wake in the air behind her as she maneuvered her huge belly around chairs to get to them. "Hey darlin', you made it," Kurt said, as he air-kissed her cheeks.

Laurel flourished her hands in an arc over her head; her nails were a shiny shade of orange as loud as her hair. "The fairy Grandmother granted all my babysitting wishes tonight."

Kurt swivelled to Jon. "Laurel this is Jon. Jon, this is my AA buddy Laurel."

Jon's mouth flicked up in a smile and he gave her a small, silent wave hello.