For Keeps

45. Healing hands.

*This one's for Kate, caretaker of library books and fellow writer of sometimes heartfelt, sometimes terrifying stories <3*

{Jon}

After the clamour of the crowded White family dinner table, it was a relief to come back to their own home and retreat into their own quiet pursuits: Cary up to his drawing studio, Jon and Kurt to Jon's big bed for reading and gaming. Jon had barely completed a single level of Zelda when Kurt chucked his book across the room to smack against the wall.

"Nope," he said firmly. "No more unfortunate events for me."

Jon blinked at what appeared to be a children's' book now face down on the floor beside his door. "Is that a library book?" he asked.

Kurt swung him a wry look through his glasses, then unfolded from the bed to stalk across the room, swipe the book up off the floor and smack it onto the pile on Jon's dresser. "There you go, White. You can take it back immediately. Some fancy book blogger said I would like Lemony Snicket because I liked Harry Potter and I do not. Kurt has had enough ansgty stories for today."

He spread out next to Jon, his head propped on his hand, blue eyes bright with curiosity. "What are you doin'?"

Jon glanced up from his pixelated screen and couldn't help smiling. "Saving the world." He turned the gaming system to Kurt, who chuckled.

"Shoulda known you're a Zelda guy." He flopped on his back, shoving his glasses onto his forehead to rub his eyes.

Jon stabbed the 'save and quit' option and put the gaming system away, folding his legs criss-crossed and facing Kurt. He ran the back of his hand over the sleeve of Kurt's blouse, looking for a place to start. "You had a lot of feelings today," he said tentatively. "Can you...tell me what was going on for you?"

Kurt's stomach rose and fell in a sigh, and he folded his glasses and set them aside. "Old shit. New depth. Pete wrecked me lookin' at that picture of you in drag and saying how incredible you looked."

Jon's forehead wrinkled. "Why did that wreck you?"

Kurt shoved up to sit up next to him, linking his arms loosely around his long folded legs and glancing at Jon through his hair. "I did not so much come out to Pa Klassen voluntarily...as get caught by him comin' home from a night out with Nicky." Bending his head, he tucked his hair behind his ears. "In drag. With my fabulous--dress and heels and queen face on."

Jon sucked in his breath. "Oh Kurt." This was a story he hadn't heard yet. His stomach was already tight with dread and he took a slow breath into his belly to stay open.

Kurt waved his hand dismissively. "Predictably shitty things were said and done--and that was the end of me and the folks. He took my phone and my keys and threw me out. Uh literally. Pa Klassen has some heavy hands when he's mad." He rubbed a shoulder up to his ear, looking aside.

"He hit you?" Jon asked.

Kurt pushed his tongue behind his lower lip, checking. "Do I still have a scar?" Kurt flipped his lower lip inside out. It just looked like the soft inside of his mouth to Jon, and Jon shook his head, turning his hands palm up in his lap to keep them from fisting on his legs.

"Bled like a fuckin' horror show," Kurt remarked. "Ruined my dress."

"Where did you go?"

Kurt stretched his chest open with a sigh. "Nicky came back for me. He'd been trying to get me to move in for months so. Winner winner chicken dinner. Took me to the ER. Then back to his place."

Jon bit the corner of his mouth, trying not to do the math on how old Kurt was, how old he had been, what car he'd been driving then, if he'd moved out with Cary already and had a spare room. "To the ER for you lip?" he asked.