17. My heart.

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{Jon}

There was an email from his boss, requesting a meeting with him in person, in the morning before shift change. We need to discuss diversity training. The words jumped off the screen. And how to respond given the widespread acceptance of homosexuality in our context.

Clicking the email shut, Jon felt his heartrate accelerate. He tucked his hands inside the hood of his sweater to rub his aching shoulders, leaning back with a sigh. It didn't feel like a good sign that his boss was using the term 'homosexuality'—the same word the Bible used in its most condemning passages. It told Jon he might not have done any reading beyond those verses and made him feel deeply unsafe.

He breathed a wordless prayer and got up to move the laundry along.

He was surprised to feel his personal phone buzz against his stomach at three in the morning and pulled it out to check.

Kurt: <what's your favourite romcom *sparkle heart*>

A corner of Jon's mouth smiled. <I don't watch movies I'm boring *blushing smile* what are you doing up?>

Kurt: <bad dreams need some good thoughts to fall back asleep>

Jon lifted his eyes from the screen, thinking of all the nights he'd sat by Cary's bed reading him psalms to push back the dark of his nightmares until his friend fell back asleep. He sent: <want a call? done my work til kids get up *heart face*>

The phone buzzed in his hand and he went to the office, closing the door.

"Is it really okay that I call?" Kurt's voice sounded muffled and unsteady.

"Yeah, it's quiet here. I finished the chores and I'm ignoring my emails," Jon said. He knew better than to ask about bad dreams when there were so many hours of dark left until morning. "You need stories to fall back asleep?"

He heard Kurt take a slow breath. "That'd be good."

Jon's eyes wandered around the office, catching on the photo of him and Dusty and Jordin in the mountains. Dusty's eyes were closed with laughter and he squeezed against Jon's chest to fit in the photo. Even Jordin's expression was relaxed, his silky black hair blowing over his face. "Have I told you anything about my kids?"

"Tell me everything about your kids. Here I thought you weren't having any." Kurt already sounded more like himself.

Smiling, Jon told Kurt about Freezie Pops and Jordin's sparkly clips, and the day Jordin arrived at the house and hugged his brother for the first time, and teaching Dusty to ride a two-wheeler.

"How long you been with him—Dusty?" Kurt asked.

Jon had his chin propped in his hand, swivelling the desk chair under him. He couldn't remember--it felt like always. "Since he was seven? He was so tiny he just looked like he was five and we barely got him in the program. River House is supposed to be a home for eight to twelve-year-olds.

"Jordin came later. He racked up quite a record in the system and the ministry didn't think there could be a setting that would work for them both. We advocated for Jordin to come here—it was here or a house with bars on the windows. That's the hardest thing about these nights--when I was on three to elevens, I got to spend all evening with them." Kurt was quiet and Jon pictured him lying on his back in his bed, the phone to his ear. Unexpectedly, his body warmed and he checked the clock—three hours until shift end.

"You're a dad, White," Kurt said slowly. "That's so sexy to me, god." His low chuckle made Jon need to stand up and stretch, shaking out his legs.

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