For Keeps

51. No a*holes in your family.

{Kurt}

Kurt navigated the city freeways in the falling dark, tired and a little low. They'd finished up the day's work sooner than expected, but knowing his sick partner was half-way across the city without him had drained him of the little energy he had to begin with. When Kurt pulled up to their house he was just relieved to finally come home--all he wanted to do this evening was take a long, hot shower and cuddle with Jon. Mel's text mid-afternoon that Jon was awake and eating a little had been the highlight of Kurt's day.

Jon was lying on his back on the floor in the middle of their bedroom, his ribs opening with slow, deep breaths, the sound of running water and birdsong playing in the background. He was wearing his yoga clothes, which was progress, and a plate with crumbs and a cup of tea sat on the bedside table beside his pillow.

"Jon?" Kurt asked cautiously.

Jon's eyes blinked open, and he rolled over carefully, getting to his knees, resting his head against the carpet a moment before he finished the movement and pushed himself up to climb into their bed. "Hey." His voice was still scratchy and low.

Kurt couldn't keep the smile off his face. "How're you feeling?"

"I live," Jon said. He made a tight little smile. "Okay day?"

"Ugh," Kurt groaned. "I feel like putty is smushed into all my pores."

There was a short pause. "My mom was here today?" Jon asked.

Kurt couldn't interpret his tone at all. "Uh huh?" He chucked his filthy shirt into their laundry hamper, glancing back at Jon.

Jon was propped against the headboard, his arms crossed tight over his chest, his eyes flashing with what was definitely anger. "You invited my mom to our house while I was fucking flattened with a migraine."

Kurt blinked. "I called her for help," he said slowly. "Because you were flattened with a migraine. I couldn't stay, love--Cary needed another pair of hands today."

Jon lifted his chin. "Of course you couldn't stay, Kurt," he snapped. "You didn't have to call my mom. I'm not five years old." He shoved his hand against his forehead, his face tight.

Kurt lifted his bare shoulders. He didn't know how to have this fight right now when Jon was obviously in pain. Ducking his head, he stuck his thumb at the open door. "I needa shower," he said quietly.

Exhaling, Jon slid down to lay his face against his pillows. "Go shower then."

Kurt stayed under the spray of hot water a long time, until Cary was banging on the door growling, "Visser. Share the love."

Changing in his own room, Kurt's stomach knotted and his heart drummed knowing Jon was just on the other side of the wall, angry with him. He didn't understand why Jon was upset and he didn't know how to turn Jon's anger back into the affectionate warmth he'd become accustomed to. He hated tip-toeing around an angry family member in his house--it was literally his least favourite thing.

He considered going downstairs to order a pizza for supper and avoid the upstairs for the rest of the evening--it seemed unlikely that Jon's head would be up to managing the stairs today.

As quickly as it occurred to him, Kurt scrapped that idea. It made him even more unhappy to think about avoiding his sick partner all evening--Jon was his favourite person to be with. He was going to have to sort this shit out to have the night together he really wanted.

He edged into the room he shared with Jon. His partner was where he'd left him, curled on top of the rumpled blankets, his bare feet nested together and his hand over his eyes.