For Us

59. Going away party.

{Jon}

Jon woke up to the sound of Kurt's guitar floating up through the floor boards. He took a slow breath, registering that he was in his own bed, his scalp tender and his body aching like he'd been beaten in a whole series of Jui Jitsu matches. He sat up slowly with his eyes squeezed shut, testing his head. All the eggshell pieces of his skull held together and he breathed out with relief, opening his eyes.

He couldn't keep doing this, wiping out an entire weekend with head-splitting pain and painstaking recovery. He'd never had two migraines in such a short period of time and it made him afraid something had changed and this was his new normal.

He went down the stairs slowly, easing his weight from foot to foot to keep from jostling his body. The smell of bacon wafted up from the kitchen; Cary was cooking at the stove, in pyjama pants and slippers, his dark hair messy with bedhead.

Jon helped himself to coffee, glancing into the living room. Kurt was cross-legged on their carpet, pulling music out of his guitar, his notebook open in front of him.

A smile lifted Jon's mouth for the first time in days.

Cary glanced back at him. "He lives. How're you doing Jon?"

Jon kept his eyes lowered, sipping the coffee. "Thanks for finding me. That wasn't--a good one." He shivered and tried to breathe and release the memory of pain.

"Wasn't me," Cary said. "Visser called me at the folks. He looked after you till I got home."

Jon's eyes flicked to Kurt's bent head, then away, his face heating with embarrassment. He rubbed the back of his neck and turned aside. "Are you doing eggs? Can you throw some veg in for me?"

Cary nodded. "Think you need to see your head guy next week?" The same worry Jon felt was in the lines around his mouth.

Jon exhaled. "Yes. Could just be stress, right? Maybe I need to change my hours. Flipping back and forth on nights is wrecking me a little bit."

"I've been saying that for months," Cary grumbled. "You have to be absolutely flattened to listen?"

Jon bowed his shoulders. He didn't have the energy to argue. Everything he'd taken on was important and he didn't want to drop any of it. It seemed to him like he should have been able to do all the things--on normal days he felt strong enough to keep up. It felt like he'd smacked into his own limitations--his normal wasn't as strong as he thought.

Kurt sauntered into the kitchen. His colourful dressing gown was back, swishing over a faded pair of jeans and an old T-shirt. "Smells amazing, Douglas. You cooking for all of us?"

Cary's eyes laughed back at him. "I got a dozen eggs cracked here; how hungry do you think I am Visser?"

"A man doesn't like to assume." Kurt waved his hands in the air, making rounded shapes for Cary's chest and ass. "You do have your figure to maintain."

Jon laughed into his coffee. Kurt's eyes flicked to him, checking him over.

"Plans for the day, Kurt?" Jon asked softly. He wasn't sure how long he could spend in the same space as his probably-ex-boyfriend. Sadness gaped in his chest. If Kurt was home, he was stepping out.

"It's a Kurt Visser day for me," Kurt said, swooping his robe out of the way to sit and stretch his long legs into the kitchen. "Heading to the spa for a mani-pedi and a massage, and then to my salon to touch up my roots." He messed up his hair and Jon noticed the darker colour coming in. "Hot towel and shave..." Kurt patted his stubbly cheeks and closed his eyes with a blissful smile. "It's going to be fabulous."