For Us

54. Pipe bomb.

{Jon}

By mid-afternoon, Jon was one-hundred percent regretting that he hadn't punched Nicky in the mouth or at least broken a couple more fingers. He slid down low in the back row of his Psych class, reading the post on his social media feed. He had an anonymous profile that he used to follow bands and people that interested him, and since Kurt and his band were tagged in this post it had come up on his feed.

There was a picture of Nicky's broken finger, up close and ugly with bruises, and paragraphs about Kurt. An itemized list of stuff Nicky claimed Kurt stole from him and sold for drinking money. A mocking description of Kurt's personal habits, with details from the years they lived together. Nicky was an unfortunately skillful writer, and Jon was already wincing, wishing he could look away.

Finally, a list of men Kurt cheated with, some of them tagged, with Nicky's comment, "If anyone wants a piece of my ex-boyfriends ass, I don't f**cking care have at him. If anyone else wants to beat @kurtvisser into the ground just send me pictures when you're done so I can laugh."

Jon sucked in a breath and closed his eyes, digging his heels into the floor. His head throbbed sharply. He stabbed the icon in the corner of the post and reported it to the site administrators, hoping they could tear it down before Kurt saw it.

He walked out in the middle of class, texting Kurt on his way to his car.

<where are you right now? are you okay?>

His phone stayed dark and silent on the road home. When he pulled up to their house he tried calling. Kurt didn't pick up so Jon called Cary.

"Yuh?" Cary's gruff voice said.

"Is Visser with you?" Jon asked.

"Yuh," Cary said.

Jon hesitated. He didn't want Kurt to look if he hadn't already seen the post. "Is he okay?"

"Uh... yup." He couldn't tell if Cary was being terse because they were in the middle of a job, or for some other reason.

"Are you coming home for supper?" Jon's voice cracked a little, giving away his desperation.

"Yuh, we'll be there," Cary said, and hung up.

When Jon walked in the house, the room full of gear seemed to accuse him. Nicky's post hadn't actually included these items, which seemed to confirm that Jon was right. This gear belonged to Kurt. It should have felt good to have settled up the account between Kurt and his ex, with everyone getting what was theirs in the end.

It didn't feel good. He couldn't believe that Nicky's post today was the behaviour of a forty-year-old man. More like a child having a temper-tantrum. Someone should take his phone away from him.

It was a tempting idea, and Jon amused himself with it while he wore himself out on the punching bag in the basement.

{Kurt}

It was about as bad as he'd expected. Kurt saw Nicky's post when he checked his social media over lunch break, and the words buzzed against his body like he'd been tazed. When he could breathe again, he spent the half-hour locked in the men's room, deleting his profile on all his social media apps. Whatever shit Nicky tagged him in, at least now it wouldn't be attached to a picture of his face or any personal information.

He Google-searched his own name and lost his breath when he saw the number of articles and photos of him available online that he couldn't take down. Putting his arms over his head he leaned against the locked bathroom door, trying not to hyperventilate while that wave of panic collided with his body. Why the hell had he thought it was a good idea to be so recognizable?