For Us

7. The take-down.

{Jon}

After sending that text, Jon got up, stretching his arms over his head and getting a full breath in. A day with nothing he needed to do except anticipate Kurt's arrival. His stomach was fluttering with what might have been hope, but could also have been dread. This was not like him, and he felt unbalanced.

He surveyed the kitchen and living area which were littered with used dishes, to-go coffee cups, school textbooks and balled up dirty socks, all washed up in the tide of six ten-hour work shifts in a row and a full course load. He let out his breath, smiling: it was going to feel so good to deep clean this whole space.

Jon's feet hurried up the stairs, his whole body feeling quick and light. He'd stepped over the ledge and he was flying now. Cary had his drawing studio in the top room of the house, and Jon knocked on the wall at the top of the last set of stairs since there was no door.

It took Cary a second to emerge from his other world, lifting his pencil off the page and turning from his desk. His broad shoulders and messy dark head were framed by sketches of their family and scenes from his graphic novel papering the walls and ceiling around him.

"Kurt's coming over," Jon said breathlessly. "I'm going to clean and I need you to shop. Can you get us drinks and snacks? And then, like, make yourself scarce tonight?"

Cary's face opened in a slow smile. "No shit. Yeah you got it."

Laundry, dishes and mopping the floors took most of the afternoon. Cary returned loaded down with grocery bags and a suspiciously large brown paper-wrapped package.

"Did you buy flowers?" Jon said incredulously.

Cary gave him a crinkly-eyed look. "Maybe. They're for the house."

Jon unwrapped the blooms, alstroemeria and sunflowers and fall foliage, the sharp, green fragrance making him feel lighter than ever.

Cary slid one blushing pink rose out of the bunch. "This one's for me."

Jon shot him a look. "Plans tonight?"

Cary put the rose between his teeth, his grin flashing in his dark beard. "Pot calling the kettle much?"

Jon's face pinked again. "We're barely--even friends. We're not doing... whatever you're planning on doing tonight."

"Yet." Cary laughed his soundless laugh.

When Cary came down, showered and neatly groomed, the floors were gleaming, the flowers were tucked discretely in a corner of the counter and there was calming music coming out of the Bluetooth speaker. Jon looked up from where he was arranging and re-arranging the candles in the corner of the room--maybe he should just clear them away. Was it lame that he was a man that liked candles?

"Hey," Cary said, his face serious.

Jon straightened, almost vibrating with tension now with under an hour until Kurt was due to arrive.

Cary walked over and put his arms around him. Jon felt like the bigger man's weight grounded him and anxiety quieted in his stomach. "Just be who you are," Cary said. "Relax. Have fun. You're good, Jon. He's gonna love you."

Jon took a big breath. "Thanks," he said, muffled into Cary's crisp shirt.

Cary drew back, patting him on the top of his head, which made Jon laugh. "See you tomorrow." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Jon shooed him out the door, laughing a little hysterically.

Once Jon had showered and changed into clean clothes, and made vegetarian nachos and put them in the oven, there was nothing left to do. His neck and shoulders were tight and aching with tension; he usually did an extended cardio workout and yoga flow on his day off. In the living room with the stereo sound surrounding him, Jon inverted himself, stretching his arms out long in front and then setting his forearms on the floor and unfolding his legs into the air. He breathed, feeling his head and neck release with the pull of gravity.