For Us

34. The messy imperfect.

{Kurt}

Kurt wasn't sure how much time to give the White parental units to clear out; he tucked himself in a back corner of the library, paging through slick fashion magazines and day dreaming about shoes until closing time. When he returned to the house, the living room was dark and quiet, the glow of a fire in the kitchen window.

In the shadowy backyard, Jon was pulled up to the fire pit alone, his hands folded between his knees as he gazed at the flames. As Kurt slipped out the back door, he caught a whiff of cigarettes under the wood smoke and he wondered if Cary had been here earlier.

"This is lovely," Kurt said.

Jon's eyes lifted to him, his smile flickering in the firelight.

Kurt stretched out in the Muskoka chair next to Jon, slipping his heels off with a sigh of relief and wiggling his bare toes to the warmth of the flames.

"Wondered if you were coming back," Jon said lightly.

Kurt flipped his hand. "Of course I'm coming back. All my clothes are in your closet."

Jon eased back in his chair, giving him an enigmatic look as he tucked his chin into the collar of his hoodie.

"How was dinner with Ma and Pa White?" Kurt asked.

"Fine." Jon's voice was neutral. "Then Cary took Mom home and Dad and I had a shout."

"Oh no," Kurt breathed, his stomach knotting again. "Are you okay?"

Jon sighed. "Yeah I'm okay. We just disagree." He rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "This might be hard to imagine but, in my family, shouting always ends in hugging."

Startled, Kurt laughed. "That is very hard for me to imagine."

Jon made a flat smile. "I was afraid of that."

"Were you shouting—about us?" Kurt asked, bracing.

"They're happy for me. But Dad thinks if I want to start dating I should resign to do it." Jon stuffed his hands in his hoodie pocket, obviously still tense from the conversation. "He works so hard to hear me, but I forget sometimes. That he doesn't have to live this. In the messy imperfect, all the time." He made a dry noise. "The answers are so easy and obvious to him. I lost all my easy answers the year I realized I liked guys the way we're supposed to like girls. I never—have the luxury of just knowing what's the right thing to do to follow God, as a Christian man."

Kurt leaned his cheek in his hand, watching Jon. He felt as if, by stepping out here in the firelight, he had just shucked off the shell he'd been wearing to be Kurt Visser 'at large.' It was comfortable as breathing to be in his skin with this man, who kept undressing for him. Jon White had so many soft, secret corners on his inside; Kurt didn't want to look away for a moment.

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked. He'd just given up on 'following God' entirely—it had never seemed worth wrestling for.

Jon sat for a minute, hands clasped. "So I still think the Bible has something to say about what it means to be human," he said. "It's so basic it seems stupid to have to point it out but. The whole—blessing God gives humans to be fruitful and multiply is in our DNA. Making babies and raising a family is such a good and beautiful and essentially human thing to do.

"When my dad became a man he just...did that. He married my mom and they had children together. At the end of the day, I think Dad will point to us as the most meaningful thing that he did with his life. Being a husband, being a dad, is what it means for Pete to be a man. Easy. I don't think he even—thinks about it."