For Keeps

25. Hungry things in the dark.

*Trigger warning: conversation about nightmares, self-harm, voices and spirits. This resolves by the end of chapter 28 so read somewhere safe, all in one go, if you want to sleep tonight!*

{Kurt}

As he pulled the last tray of pepper cookies out of the oven, the front door thumped closed, and Kurt's ears perked up. Moment's later, Jon walked in, flicking his ball cap at the back entryway and struggling out of his hoodie.

"Natty Lite," Kurt said with a grin. "How was your shift?"

Jon dropped the hoodie on a chair with a grimace, tugging his T-shirt straight. Grey, the grey was back. At least his pants fit him. "On a scale of 1 to 10, my shift was a solid 8," Jon said. He rolled his shoulder, his mouth flat. "My imaginary broken rib pain is a 7 and no one wants to know how much I want to cut right now."

"I want to know," Kurt said softly.

"It is a 10, Visser, so thank you very much for hiding all my sharps. And I hate you."

Kurt scrunched up his face, stung. He turned aside to flip the cookies onto the cooling rack. "Well that right there's why I don't want to be your sponsor," he said.

"Oh hey," Jon swiftly caught him in a hug. "Shit, that was a joke, Kurt. It was a joke that's funny because I'm so ridiculously glad to see you and you are the most special, most beautiful, most loving-est man in the world."

"Hm," Kurt said, soothed, and handed him a cookie. "Grandma Visser's peppernodder, gluten free version."

Jon's face brightened as he took a bite. "Oh wow. What is happening with the pepper in this cookie? And is that cinnamon?"

Kurt's lips curled in a smile. "Cardamom." He glanced sideways at his partner's face. "Was the 10 a joke too?"

Sighing, Jon leaned his shoulder into Kurt's arm without meeting his eyes. "I will downgrade it to an 8 for this cookie, Visser, and how good you look in ruffles." His voice was wry, but Kurt worried.

Kurt hugged his shoulders and kissed the top of his head. "Plans for the night?"

Jon brushed crumbs off his mouth, looking at the candlelit kitchen like he was weighing what he had in him to do. "I'm going to see if I can stretch out this fucking shoulder with a yoga sesh. And go to bed with you." His eyes touched Kurt's briefly, sparking with humor. "Today Jordin suggested I might be asexual."

Kurt choked on a crumb of the cookie he'd been nibbling on and Jon had to thump him on the back, he coughed so hard. "Oh my god, warn a man next time," Kurt said, thumbing tears out of his eyes, and breaking into peals of laughter. "Jonathon Nathanial White--asexual. You know I would love you however you are, Jon, but can I just say I very much love having sex with you."

"Mutual," Jon said, and jogged upstairs to change into his yoga things.

Kurt was cleaning the last dishes, having packed the cookies into neat stacks in a tin at the bottom of one of their backpacks for their Jasper roadtrip, when a heavy series of 'thumps' startled him. He poked his head out of the kitchen to check on Jon, who had been working up a sweat on his yoga mat in front of the tree.

His partner was gathering his sprawled limbs where he had fallen, his ribs heaving.

"White?" Kurt said cautiously.

"I'm fine," Jon said, flopping onto his back. "And more importantly, I did not fall into Cary's tree and ruin Christmas." He grimaced, shifting a little and closing his fists. "Can you come over here and step on me?"

Kurt padded up beside him, looking down at his partner's strained, sweaty face. "Pardon?"

Jon dug his knuckles into the left side of his chest. "Step on me. Feels like something needs a crack."