For Keeps

34. Drag battle armour.

{Jon}

All three of Jon's exams were crammed over two back to back days; weeks earlier he had mapped out his study schedule to accommodate his work shifts and personal time off. His alarm buzzed well before sunrise Wednesday morning, and Jon blinked blearily at the reminders on his phone screen he'd made for himself weeks ago. One more push. He paused a second to put a kiss on his partner's shoulder before his feet hit the floor and he hit the day running.

Downstairs, Cary was up already, his normally tousled bedhead flat and unwashed, leaning heavily on the kitchen counter as he rummaged through the med box. He glanced at Jon when he came in, his black expression telling Jon it was too early for 'good morning.'

"Using T3s today," Cary said gruffly, "Step out if you don't want to watch me take 'em. Didn't expect you up so early."

Jon turned on his heel and stepped into the hall, stretching his arms and shoulders out while he waited at the bottom of the stairs. As he breathed, he probed the spot where he usually felt a craving to use with Cary. The monkey bared its teeth at him, but its voice was muffled today and easy to ignore. Jon felt good in his skin, happy.

Imagine this being his permanent state of mind...Jon made a mental note to ask Kurt about finding a Narcotics Anonymous meeting when his exams were done. No more screwing around trying to do this on his own; this weekend felt like he'd poked his head above the cloud cover and could clearly see he needed to buckle down and do his work with other people who knew what it was like to live with addiction.

The slap of the med box closing told Jon it was safe to re-enter the kitchen. "Need a coffee, or going back to sleep?" Jon asked.

Cary limped back to his chair and eased into it, white-lipped. "Not going back to sleep," he said.

Between making a pair of coffees and a smoothie breakfast, Jon crammed from his study notes on John Bowlby's attachment theory, the sound of Cary watching National Geographic quiet and familiar in the background.

When Kurt came down for coffee, half dressed in a pair of Jon's yoga pants and his robe, Jon leaned back in his chair, pulling on his neck for a stretch break. "Feelin' sober, Visser?" he asked teasingly.

Kurt narrowed his eyes in a smile back at him, leaning down for a kiss. He squeezed the back of Jon's neck exactly where Jon kept all his tension, almost tipping Jon over backwards in his chair as he kissed him.

Laughing breathlessly, Jon caught his balance when Kurt let him go, still tasting Kurt's toothpaste and strawberry lip gloss. "Good morning to you too, love," Jon said.

"It is a good morning, isn't it," Kurt said, and did a little dance before sloshing coffee in his mug. "I am feeling extremely fabulous, thank you for asking, husband-of-mine."

Jon tapped on his keyboard to scroll down his screen. "I have an exam at eleven today and two more tomorrow I need to study for before my shift at 3. And then I am DONE." He leaned back, lifting his fists in the air and closing his eyes.

Kurt lifted his eyebrows over his cup of coffee. "Quick plan needed for Friday--are we going to Red Deer for dancing? 'Cause I don't know if there's even a club in that one-queer town."

"Didn't you go clubbing around here when you were closeted?" Jon asked. "What did you do?"

Kurt blew out his lips. "Usually I went out as the fabulous Ms. Vee. I mean, I used to love being in drag anyways so that was just a good excuse."

Jon grinned, remembering Kurt's dramatic drag queen persona from his social media page. "Let's just do that then," Jon said.

"Hm?" Kurt said.