For Us

14. Never been kissed.

{Kurt}

Waking before seven, Kurt laid in bed to take in his new surroundings. In the soft morning light Jon's guest room looked almost exactly as it had Saturday night; Kurt had so little stuff it all fit in the dresser. The break up with Nicky had cost him his shoe collection, along with his favourite dresses and tops. The walls of this room were soft green-grey, a little too close to beige for his liking. Maybe some new curtains and bed linens would spice things up in here.

He laughed to himself, sitting up. If he was staying. He probably wasn't staying. It was too much to ask of Jon's hospitality to just move in on day three of their 'practise' relationship.

Squeezed into the closet was the one nice thing Kurt had bought with his recent paycheck, not imagining he'd need to make a security deposit so soon. The dressing gown was luxurious and silky against his skin, giving him the feel of being cared for and precious as he wrapped it around himself. It was a delicious shade of mango, flushing to red, with vines and flowers twining up the sleeves and across the shoulders. He had not been able to resist it in the store window for a second.

He tugged on his worn-soft jeans, only regretting that he hadn't bought the matching harem pants.

Morning sunlight was dappling the hardwood in the main room and he lit one of the candles just for the smell of the beeswax, forever imprinted in his mind now as the smell of Jon. He propped himself against the wall in the open room, pulling a song out of his strings that rippled and shone like the sunlight. He wove his voice with the music, feeling like there was a song here. The lyrics that came to his mind were too personal to sing out loud, even alone in this house. Not yet.

He put his cheek on his guitar, jotting the chord progressions in his notebook, with a lick or two of the lyrics.

The front door thumped and he lifted his face expectantly, his stomach tightening. Jon appeared in the arched doorway, pushing the hood of his sweatshirt back so his hair emerged, rumpled and coppery in the morning light.

Kurt flashed him a smile, anxiety buzzing in his stomach. "Welcome home, White. Hope it's okay I'm here."

Jon's smile broke across his face like a second sunrise, and he turned his cheek away, his ears pink. "Totally okay. How soon before you head to work?"

He'd lost track of time--not unusual when he was making music. Kurt unfolded and got up, setting his guitar aside. "Not sure. Guess I better change."

"Don't change," Jon said softly. "You look gorgeous."

Kurt's heart bumped into his throat and he smoothed a hand over his bare chest, meeting Jon's shy, sideways look. He wanted Jon to bring his adorable face right up close and put his arms around him again.

Jon laughed once, giving himself a small shake. "So, um, what's the terms of our deal with you living here? I'm sure you didn't plan to be my practise boyfriend 24/7."

"I was wondering the same thing," Kurt said. "What do you want, Jon?"

Jon lifted his chin, poised in the doorway in his sock feet. "Honestly?" His voice was light and a little unsteady. "I want to kiss you right now. You've been my happiest thought since you left on Sunday."

Kurt didn't give a moment's thought to the strings attached; he only had eyes for the dimple that had appeared beside Jon's suppressed smile. "I'll take that kiss if it comes with a good Jon White hug," Kurt said. "That's been my happiest thought since Sunday."

Jon pulled his bulky hoodie off, stepping across the floor in his shirt sleeves, and Kurt's whole body flushed with desire. Biting his lip, Jon put his arms around Kurt's body. It was not the platonic hug of Sunday--the bare skin of Jon's arms slid like silk against Kurt's ribs, and there was nothing but his T-shirt between the press of their chests.