For Us

24. Call the play.

{Kurt}

Call the play.

Kurt's whole body hummed like a plucked string, with Jon just an arms' length away, his eyes dark as night water, looking back at Kurt.

"Come here, love," Kurt said softly, tugging Jon's wrist. He pushed back from the table, hooking an arm around Jon's hips to settle Jon on his lap, straddled, facing him. Jon linked his arms around Kurt's neck, turning his face to look sideways at him, his heartbeat fluttering in the corner of his jaw.

It was so close to everything Kurt wanted; his arms and lap were full of Jon's warm weight, but the other man was still so poised and wary. Searching the side of his face, Kurt palmed Jon's cheek, brushing a thumb over his full lower lip. Jon's tongue flicked out and touched the pad of his thumb, once, and Kurt took a breath.

"Can I get some clarification?" he asked in a strained voice. "When you asked me—if I wanted this with you for real. What were you asking?"

"I'm pretty sure I can hook up with you tonight." Jon's words were soft as sand. "If you're missing it. You're in your own category for me, Kurt Visser."

Kurt's laugh caught and he pushed his face against Jon's shirt to hide his stinging eyes. Of course that's what Jon meant. He hugged Jon closer and felt his hands stroke through his hair. If Jon had been any other guy, Kurt would have said yes in a heartbeat. Jon's gentle hands and his clean-man smell were unbearably arousing.

"Here's the thing, Jon," Kurt said into his shirt. "I don't want a hook up with you."

Jon made an ambivalent noise, shifting on top of the obvious evidence to the contrary.

"I want all the other things," Kurt said. Jon's hands went still, then pulled Kurt away from his chest. Kurt smiled and Jon's eyes went a little wide, tracking over his expression. He brushed a tear off Kurt's cheek with his knuckles.

"What other things?" Jon asked, like he really couldn't imagine it.

"Oh my god, Jon, all the things you said," Kurt burst out. "Being boyfriends and making pancakes and wearing our old pyjamas for sleepovers. All the things, Jon. All the things you do when you care about someone for real."

Jon's mouth was open—he looked around the kitchen like there might be someone else Kurt could be talking about. "With me."

"Jesus Christ—do I have to spell it out? Why do you think I asked to be your practise boyfriend? I didn't think you'd ever agree to be the real thing. I can't—I honestly can't just hook up with you. It will break my fucking heart, Jon, if that's all you think I'm good for."

Jon started to laugh. "Kurt, why do you think I asked you for a hook up? I didn't think you'd ever agree to be my actual boyfriend and I'm so fucking interested in you I thought I would work with whatever you would give me until I changed your mind."

They laughed so hard they had to hold onto each other to keep from falling off the chair, and Kurt had to wipe his streaming eyes on Jon's T-shirt. His robe was dry clean only; highly impractical for a gay prone to tears, but there it was.

"Okay," Kurt said, when they recovered, sticking his hand in the air like a referee making a call. "Okay, re-do. I want to be your boyfriend, Jon White. Can we do the dishes together and just make out before bed?"

Taking a huge, relieved breath, Jon cupped his hands around Kurt's face to kiss him. Kurt hooked his arms around Jon's shoulders to steady himself—he was shaking a little from the release of that moment.

"That is a yes from me, Kurt Visser," Jon said against his mouth. He closed his eyes, flattening his hand against Kurt's chest as that dimple appeared next to his tucked mouth. "You know this...doesn't change my job, right? All I can give you is still just here."