{Kurt}

Kurt had no idea what time it was Sunday morning when he gradually became aware of the bed rocking with shakes. He made a sleepy noise of protest and the bed stilled. "Sorry." Jon's voice came out of the dark.

Kurt burrowed into his pillows to go back to sleep, but not a minute later the jiggling started again. "Whad-the-fug is goin' on," Kurt mumbled. "Why're you wigglin' over there, White?"

There was a pause. "Can't sleep," Jon said softly. "Thinking. Sorry. My legs get restless when I'm--worried."

The tight undercurrent in Jon's voice pulled Kurt to more alertness. He rolled over, fumbling in the dark for a familiar part of Jon's body, patting his stubbly chest. He felt Jon take a slow breath, pressing Kurt's hand against his skin.

"Well now I can't sleep," Kurt drawled. "What're we lying awake thinkin' about?"

"The right way to resign." The bed started to jiggle quietly again. "I think I should give my letter to Terry tomorrow, actually. It's two weeks to our budget year-end. I have holiday time we were going to roll over to next year but I can just take it--as part of my two weeks notice. And not go back. I think that's what I should do."

Kurt put his cheek against Jon's shoulder, eyes open in the dark. So quick. Jon had clearly thought a lot about this already. "What are you worryin' about?" he asked low.

"How much to say?" Jon's voice wobbled a tiny bit before he steadied it. "I think--um. I'm not putting in writing why I'm resigning. The official letter should just say--the dates that I'm done. But I want to give it to Terry personally and tell him face to face--I'm gay."

Kurt started up, slapping on the light. Jon blinked up at him, his eyes still black with pupil. "Why the hell would you do that?" Kurt asked, appalled.

"Because it's the full truth," Jon said. "And Terry needs a better picture of what 'gay' means."

"Terry needs to educate himself, Jon," Kurt said sharply. He rubbed his hands through his hair, remembering his partner punched down so small under the coats in their back entryway, crying without making a sound. He had zero faith Terry wouldn't just do that again. "You don't owe him anything. You just open yourself up for him say a dozen shitty things to your face again."

Jon sat up, criss-crossing his legs and clasping his hands in a tight ball in his lap. "I don't make decisions based on whether I'm scared of getting hurt or not," he said.

"I mean, clearly," Kurt said more quietly.

Jon shot him a glance, his mouth tight and unhappy.

Kurt exhaled, slowing down. This felt obvious to him, but Jon wasn't seeing it. "Walk me through this, White," he said. "You hand Terry your letter. You say--"

"I'm getting married to the man that I love and I can't work here anymore," Jon filled in, his voice low.

A corner of Kurt's mouth pulled up, touched by the way Jon put that. "Then what're you hoping will happen? That Terry will cross out a line on that fucking lifestyle thing and let you stay?"

Jon's bare back was a bowed curve as he shook his head once. "Terry can't do that, even if he wanted to." Jon rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at Kurt once. "I just want to be heard." His voice trembled. "That this is who I am and being gay changes nothing about the work I've done."

Kurt shoved his hand against his own heart, seeing Nicky's sneering face as Kurt spoke his truth. "Is he going to hear you though?" Kurt asked.

"There's a chance?" Jon said. "Terry's moved a bit with the way he treats Jordin. He's been...nothing but positive about my performance up to now." Jon's knee was bobbing. "Best case scenario: our work policy doesn't change, but Terry does."

"Worst case scenario?" Kurt asked.

Jon took a short breath, going still. "Terry discredits everything I've done because I'm a gay man? And sits Jordin and Dusty down to tell them Jon White is a homosexual? And asks the questions we ask when we think a child has been molested."

Kurt reared back, sick. "Jesus Christ." He recalled Jon's furious words the day he showed up on their doorstep. "You weren't exaggerating."

Jon shook his head, wincing. He went on rapidly, like these thoughts had been whirling in his head for hours and Kurt's questions had just turned them loose. "I think Jordin would see through the bullshit? And she'll be angry at the whole house. She could fuck up the last months of her stay, acting out. And Dusty--" Jon's hand went to his face, wiping his eyes quick.

"He's just old enough to maybe grasp what Terry means by his questions." Jon's voice pressed nearly to a whisper. "If Dust starts to second-guess...me, and wonders if maybe I didn't have pure motives caring for him--" Jon put the back of his hand to his mouth.

"Jon--no," Kurt said urgently. "Nope. That's so obviously a hard nope. You can't take a chance Terry puts your kids through that."

Jon's ribs expanded in a slow breath and he clasped his hands on the back of his neck. "So I just resign? No explanation? And my kids think--I'm a flake? Another unreliable adult in their life?"

Kurt picked at his nails, his heart aching as he watched Jon wrestle this out. He wished he could think of a good answer. "Can you wait?" he asked tentatively. "Resign when they're settled with their mom?"

He saw Jon's body flinch smaller. "You think I should wait 'til spring?" Jon's voice frayed. His fingers whitened on the back of his neck, his body taut with tension. "And then they'll be out of range." Jon nodded shortly. "Right. That's the best decision for them. I can do that. I can--"

Kurt tried to see his face; Jon appeared to be stuck, so still he seemed to not be breathing. Abruptly, Jon shook, making a choking noise. He wrapped his hands over his mouth, lifting his streaming eyes to Kurt's, his body silently heaving.

"Jon," Kurt said, tears spilling out of his own eyes.

Jon took a huge, shuddering breath. "I wanted to be done." The words cracked and Jon's face twisted with grief. "I was so happy thinking I was done hiding me today." His hands were lifted and his chest jerked, trying to get the words out between sobs. "I don't want to put that damn hoodie on and go back."

Kurt clambered over the covers to wrap his arms around Jon's bowed shoulders. "I was just askin' questions, love--you don't have to go back. All your options are shitty in their own special way." His laugh broke. "You just have to find one you can live with."

Jon's hands fisted in the back of Kurt's nightshirt, and he shook his head against Kurt's chest. "I should wait. I should make sure Jordin and Dusty are safe."

Kurt felt Jon fighting to shove his tears down, and he was abruptly frightened by what this was going to do to his partner over the next four months. He clasped Jon's neck, putting his lips next to his ear.

"I want you to be safe," Kurt growled. His arms tightened on Jon, who was taking huge, hitching breaths, hanging onto Kurt's shoulders like something was pushing back. "Don't do this, Jon. Yeah, it might be good for them if you stay a little longer--but it's not good for you an' you obviously don't want to. You don't always have to be the one making the best decision for someone else. Especially not when it's wrecking you. You know that, right? You matter as much as them."

Jon shuddered, making a soft noise and burrowing closer. Kurt pulled him right onto his lap, hugging him close like he was a child. Jon exhaled, relaxing against him and Kurt's heart sang out a single note, a high cry for help for Jon, while he braced to take Jon's weight. Putting his lips against Jon's hair, he waited--he couldn't make this decision for him.

"You think they'll be okay?" Jon asked in a small, trembling voice. "If I'm done now?"

"Yeah I do," Kurt said. "You said it yourself--there's other good people at your house to look after them. I think you've done as much as one amazing person could do."

Jon sniffed, fisting tears out of his eyes. "Fuck this shit." The words cracked. "All my options suck."

Kurt laughed a little at those adult words in Jon's tearful, childish voice. "Yup. It's a pickle, and no mistake." He thought of Dusty having Christmas with his mom for the first time, and then coming back to the house with no Pops there to greet him and no explanation why. He felt what he would want in that situation. "Can you...call them?" Kurt asked slowly. "Tell Dusty and Jordin yourself even if you can't give the full reason why? That would be something, right?"

Jon was quiet, then took a big breath, puffing it out. "Yeah. I can do that." He sat up and touched Kurt's cheek, meeting his eyes. There was a clear, wordless thank you in his blotchy face. Kurt kissed him softly.

"You resigning today?" Kurt asked low.

Jon nodded, sliding out of bed and pulling on his comfy pants and robe.

Hugging his chilly legs, Kurt said, "And you're going to write that letter right now, aren't you."

Jon gave him a small, wry smile. "Yeah I am. Getting it over and done."

Kurt flopped back on the pillows with a groan. "What time is it?" he asked plaintively. "Is it even morning yet?"

Jon checked his phone. "It's seven thirty."

"Oh my god," Kurt started to laugh. "You're so lucky I love you right now."

"I know," Jon said lightly. "I am."

Kurt burrowed back under the covers. "Wake me up when there's actual daylight. And coffee."

{Jon}

It wasn't a difficult letter to compose--just a handful of sentences and his signature at the bottom.

Dear Terry,

Please accept my resignation effective immediately.

After brewing a cup of tea and giving it some thought, Jon added these lines:

At this time I can no longer work for an organization that does not affirm the goodness of LGBTQ2A+ people.

He felt a charge of adrenaline putting that much of his truth in black and white, and he started and deleted multiple sentences to follow up, before just leaving it. Terry would probably assume this was about his 'gay brother,' and that was fine. Jon thought Terry would understand family loyalty and love. That was a big part of what their Christian faith was all about.

Please communicate my respect for all the staff and their faithful work to support and empower the children in their care.

He closed his eyes, fingers going still over the keyboard. Give my love to Dusty and Jordin.

He didn't put that in writing; he would give the Kickingbirds his love himself. He finished simply with:

In Christ, Jon White.

Printed, signed, folded, stuck in an envelope, and pinned to the fridge with a magnet--ready for delivery.

Jon stretched his arms over his head and took a big breath, looking at that envelope addressed to Terry in his own handwriting. A smile pulled up his mouth. Done and good enough.

He jogged downstairs to get some endorphins flowing on their sparring floor. His quick feet dancing under his skipping rope rapidly picked up his spirits, but his tired body asked to be done after just thirty sweaty minutes. Folding up his jump rope, breathing hard and swiping sweat off his top lip, Jon felt the start of a scratchy throat. Hopefully that was just because the air was so dry this time of year.

When Jon poked his head into Kurt's room, he found his partner freshly showered and shirtless, rifling through an over-stuffed closet to choose what he was wearing to church.

"Shaving razor?" Jon asked.

Kurt flashed him a smile. "Hold out your hand and shut your eyes, darlin'." Jon obliged and a moment later the cool weight of his razor sat in his palm. "Good work out?" Kurt asked, pulling on a salmon-pink V-neck.

Jon nodded. It felt like he'd let his anxiety about that resignation letter and the aftermath that he had no control over discharge into the sparring floor through the soles of his feet. "Good sleep in?" he teased back.

"Not gonna lie, someone I love woke me up way too early today." Kurt chuckled. "I'm gonna need a nap later, like a toddler."

"Or a very old man," Jon said, lifting his hands. "I'm not saying...I'm just saying." He ducked the balled up sock Kurt tossed at him, and left laughing.

Jon liked to time his shower to Kurt's morning routine so that while he towelled off he could watch his partner shade and line his eyes and make an artful mess of his hair. Today Jon dashed out of the bathroom, jumped into his skinny jeans and threw on his chrysanthemum button-up shirt so he could be back before Kurt was done.

"What should I do with my hair, Kurt?" Jon asked, pulling up next to him at the sink and lifting his eyebrows at him in the mirror. "So it's not so fuzzy?" Jon tugged his fingers through his damp hair, not long enough to make curls but getting there--and wrinkled his nose with distaste. He didn't know much, but he knew his 'do was about as stylish as a pot-scrubber right now.

Kurt's lips curled slowly in a smile. He smushed his hair paste between his hands and ran them through Jon's hair, twisting some of the pieces with his fingers to complete the curl. "How about that?" Kurt asked, finishing with a stroke over the soft 'fade' buzzed on the back of Jon's neck.

Jon leaned into his reflection, happiness coursing through his body from the top of his head, tingling from Kurt's touch, right to the ends of his fingers and toes. Kurt had not done what he did to his own hair, which he currently wore in shaggy chunks over one eye and around his ears. He had lifted Jon's curls off his forehead in a coppery wave, still rumpled but just a little more refined and shiny. Jon thought he looked exactly like himself, just...extra Jonathan.

"I love it," Jon said, sighing happily. "I look so nice and gay today."

Kurt laughed, handing him a stick of lip gloss. "You look nice and gay every day, Jon."

Jon slicked the lip stuff onto his lips--it had an irresistible honey-mint smell and felt soft on his winter-chapped skin. His smile lit his whole face.

Kurt leaned his cheek against Jon's temple, blue eyes twinkling with warmth as he met Jon's hazel ones in the mirror. "You do look happy, love," he said. He touched a hand under Jon's chin. "And that's a look I very much like for you."

*

After a non-stop week, from their Jasper road trip, to final exams and a queens' night out at the Wonderlounge, to finally making a decision to resign, Jon felt relieved to step into the nave of his church. The plaster walls, gleaming pews and tall stained glass windows were as unchanged today as they had been last week and would be in the years to come. The red banners and evergreen wreath beside the communion table marked the Advent season they were in--the last Sunday before Christmas.

Today Kurt carried his guitar into church for Queer Choir practice after soup lunch and Jon was full of curiosity about what his partner was planning. He was completely out of touch with the Christmas Eve performance...pretty standard for him on December 20. Lucky for him Tyrell was a forgiving taskmaster--Jon had some catching up to do.

Seated next to Kurt in the pew, Jon saw a familiar colourful Frankenstein sweater come through the side door. Angel shoved the hood off her crest of indigo hair, rubbing snow off her boots. Taking a slow breath, Jon touched his thumb to the ring on his wedding finger. There was at least one person from his workplace he did want to talk to in person, if he could find the right moment.

2773 words.

*Do you think Jon is making the right decision here? Should he have waited until Dusty and Jordin are gone?

What do you think Kurt is planning for their Christmas Eve performance?

Thanks for the reads and votes, lovelies! We're getting a little peek into Angel's world next week--can't wait! See you Thursday <3*