For Us

15. Narrow minded.

{Nicky}

<where the hell r u went by ur place last night u moved again??>

<u fucking ghosting me klassen?>

<u think u can do the show without me think again the bands my friends>

<answr ur fucking phone>

<klassen>

<Im gonna find u>

<answer me>

<r we on for practice tonite or not???>

{Kurt}

Kurt felt like Jon's hands had left a warm imprint on his stomach, and he was unaware that he was singing while he worked, rolling coat after coat of paint onto the walls they had framed, drywalled, mudded and prepped. The soft 'smush' of the paint coming off the roller was immensely satisfying and seeing clean bright rooms where there had been nothing but bare concrete before made him feel like today he'd done something he could be proud of.

Cary's side-eye and smirk made him catch himself mid-lyric and he blushed, for god's sake. Kurt Visser had never been the blushing type.

He didn't see the messages until they were in the truck finding a place for lunch. Nicky's name on his screen caught him like a punch in his short ribs and he slid down in his seat, reading through his ex's rapidly escalating rage-texts. He dropped the phone into the cup-holder and looked blankly out the windshield, trying to think. How many days 'til the show? They did need to practice and he had been ignoring Nicky, letting his previous texts go unanswered as not important or welcome in this chapter of his life.

With two fingers, he picked the phone back up, taking a deep breath.

<yeah practice tonite like we said>

<sorry i thought u knew>

<I'll remind the guys>

<I have some new stuff ur gonna love *grin emoji*>

Nicky didn't respond for hours, which set Kurt's teeth on edge and dialed his tension a little tighter every time he checked his phone. This was his punishment for not answering the previous texts—he hated that it still worked on him.

Finally: <should fucking hope so see u at 6>

Jon texted him as they were cleaning up their brushes and getting ready to head out. <Free for supper? I can come home after class before work>

Kurt sighed. He'd never been so sorry to have to go play music in his life.

<band practice shows next weekend*sweaty smile**crying emoji*>

<sorry love>

{Jon}

Jon's mouth curled up, reading that one word: love. Kurt didn't mean love-love, but it was another little glimpse of Kurt's affectionate personality that left him warm. Jon texted: <proud of you *red heart* see you tomorrow>

He grabbed a veg stir fry at the food court on campus and did his reading for the next day while he ate. He arrived early at the house, parked a few blocks away and reclined in the passenger seat to close his eyes for thirty blissful minutes.

It turned out he was going to need every minute of extra rest: he could already hear raised voices in the office as he came into River House.

"If you hadn't bought him those girly clips he'd never have gotten in that fight in the first place--" Patrick said.