For Us

10. Why I can't exist.

{Jon}

When Cary came in the front door, his overnight bag slung over his shoulder, Jon pretended to be absorbed in homework like it was any other Sunday. "Hey," Cary said, glancing around the kitchen. His beard and hair were back in their familiar untidy mess. "How'd it go?"

There was the sound of feet running down the stairs and Cary turned just in time for Kurt's entrance. Kurt spread his arms wide, Jon's too-small T-shirt showing a sliver of stomach above his waistband. "Surprise! Welcome home." He leaned around Cary's bulk to give Jon a puzzled look. "Why do you only have grey and black clothes? Is this a ninja thing I should know about?"

Jon was unable to conceal his grin any longer. "I hope it's okay that Kurt stayed the night." As soon as he said it, he put his fingers to his mouth to watch Cary's response.

Cary looked from one man to the other, his eyebrows lifting, and then he ducked his head, a smile spreading over his bearded face. "It's your house too. Who wants coffee?"

Two hands shot in the air.

As Cary did mysterious things at the stove to make three coffee pour overs with only one cone, Kurt dropped into the chair next to Jon, pulling him close under his arm. "What are we telling Douglas?" The words were warm in Jon's ear and, when he pulled back to check Jon's face, his blue eyes danced with laughter.

Jon tucked his cheek next to Kurt's stubbly face to speak back in his ear. "We're in the house. I think the terms apply."

He felt Kurt's chuckle against his arm. "The terms apply," Kurt repeated under his breath. "I could get quite attached to you, Jon."

"Good," Jon said, giving him a sideways smile. "Then I'm doing it right."

Kurt hummed to himself, cutting Jon sideways looks as his fingers made chords on his chest. He nudged his chin at Cary's broad shoulders. "Douglas, how was your night?"

Cary lifted his dark eyebrows innocently. "We stayed in. And yours, Visser?"

Kurt's hand found Jon's on the table and clasped it gently. "We also stayed in."

"And traded clothes," Cary commented.

Kurt laughed. "Not by choice." He plucked at the grey shirt he was wearing, making a face at the plain cotton. "Jon, you know colour exists, yes?"

Jon laughed, turning his face aside, his ears pink. "I know colour exists."

He caught Cary shaking his head at Kurt, mouthing: he doesn't.

"I have things that are... brown, I guess," Jon said. "And blue?"

Kurt watched him attempt to describe his wardrobe, his mouth opening in an appalled 'o.' "Just stop," he said in a strangled voice. He exhaled, pushing his hair into white-blond peaks. "I can work with blue," he said to himself.

Cary huffed a laugh, bringing them both steaming coffees, frothy and fragrant. "Good luck with that," he rumbled.

"I don't have anywhere to dress up for," Jon said. "I told you. School. Work. Here."

Kurt snorted. "Those all sound like places you could dress up for. I would."

"This gay is trying to blend," Jon said dryly. "In two of those three places."

"Hm. Well, as your house boyfriend, I wonder how you would feel if I shop for a few things. To wear in one of those three places. And you can try everything on for me here while I watch."

Cary snorted a laugh, covering it with a slurp of his coffee. "House boyfriend?" he said. "Is that what you're calling this?"

Jon set his chin on his hand, grateful to be saved from the alarming idea of taking his clothes off with Kurt in his bedroom. "Correct."