{Jon}

Jon woke up on Christmas morning with a jolt of excitement in his belly about the day for the first time in years. He wanted to see his family's faces when they opened Kurt's extravagant gifts--he wanted to be enveloped by a hug from his mom--he wanted to take Greta for a walk and get to know their furry new housemate. But most of all, he wanted to watch Kurt's blue eyes light up over all the things, starting now.

Jon slipped out of bed to shower and brush his teeth in a hurry and then slipped back between the sheets to cuddle into Kurt's warm, sleeping body.

Kurt woke up with a 'yelp.' "Jon--you're freezin'! You been doing cold showers again?" Even as he said it, Kurt's arms were pulling Jon against his body, pushing him over to make a little spoon to his big one.

Warm me up," Jon said, laughing, snuggling in and drawing Kurt's arms tjght around his chest. He put a kiss in the palm of Kurt's hand, slipping Kurt's index finger in his mouth to suck on it suggestively.

Behind him, Kurt's body responded immediately. "Is that how it is," he chuckled and hooked his chin over Jon's shoulder to nuzzle his cheek. "You smell good," he murmured against Jon's neck. "You been using my body wash?"

"Maybe," Jon murmured back. He met Kurt's eyes, feeling like his smile was a warm light shining right through his skin. "Happy first Christmas, Kurt Visser-White."

It really felt like they had all the time in the world to stay in bed. Jon did not normally lay in, but there was nothing he needed to get up for: no emails, no school work, no shift at the house. He almost fell back asleep after, so loved up that his body felt warm and gooey as freshly pulled taffy.

Kurt did fall back asleep, arms and legs flung in a starfish over the bed. Kissing the dip below Kurt's collarbone, Jon untangled his legs from Kurt's and climbed out of bed to pull on some comfy weekend clothes and make coffee.

Jon was just sitting down at the kitchen table with a steaming cup of creamy maybe passable brew when a text message chimed.

<Dusty wants to show you his presents>

<do you Facetime>

<also miyo-manitowi-kîsikanisik is merry christmas in cree>

Jon had forgotten that he'd given Jordin his personal cell number last summer on their camping trip in case of emergencies. Without giving himself time to worry or second guess, Jon tapped,

<Merry Christmas *sparkly tree emoji* yes to Facetime!>

The call came immediately. Jordin's face appeared and then the camera jostled and Dusty's grin and big shining brown eyes filled Jon's screen.

"Pops!!" The boy's voice sounded far away through the phone. "Guess what I got for Christmas?"

Jon laughed quietly, his chest squeezing. "What?"

"Hold this Jordi," Dusty said, and there was a scrambling sound while the phone stayed stationary, evidently in Jordin's hand. Jon could make out a Formica table top and in the next room, a big squishy couch with a crocheted blanket of colourful squares over the back. In the background, he could hear adult voices talking, and a deep throaty chuckle. Kokum was a great laugh-er.

Dusty loomed back into view, hands clasped around the tiny chest of a kitten that was mostly black and white fluff and big gold eyes. It's paws stuck up beside its ears in Dusty's grip. "I gotta kitten!" Dusty crowed.

"Don't hold him like that," Jordin snapped. "Kokum said be gentle, Dusty."

"He's so cute," Jon said as Dusty gathered the kitten into a more comfortable ball against his chest. "We got a pet for Christmas too."

"You did?" Dusty's wide brown eyes met his through the phone.

"Yup--a curly black dog named Greta."

"Will I see her? You'll bring her to the house, won't you Pops?"

Jon got stuck a second. This little plastic rectangle in his fingers contained everything he'd loved and given himself to the past four years. "Dust. I'm sorry I can't."

"Oh," Dusty said understandingly. "'Cause no pets at the house. I 'member you said that before."

Jon abruptly felt what a bad idea this had been--and the truth of Kurt's words. All your options are shitty in their own special way. He cleared his tight throat. "Remember I told you I have a person now?"

"Uh huh?" Dusty said, fumbling with the kitten who was climbing his T-shirt to burrow under his thicket of hair.

"Well I can't...work at the house anymore, Dust. My person needs me more."

He only saw Dusty's bewildered face for a second before the phone whipped around and Jordin was glaring at him. "You're not gonna be there when we come back?" she asked sharply.

"That's right, I'm not." Jon pushed the words out but his voice stayed steady. His free hand fisted, his thumb touching his ring.

"Will Angel be there?" Jordin asked.

"Yes."

"Will Naomi? Will Patrick?"

Jon bobbed his head, breathing a blessing over every one of those staff as he assured Jordin they would still be there.

Jordin glared off screen. "Dustin Kickingbird, you stop crying. Jon's not family. He's just a guy who looked after us for a bit. Kokum is family. Mom is family. Auntie Sheila and Uncle Bob are family."

Jon sagged back in his chair, pushing his hand against his chest and blinking his dry eyes, trying to just breathe through the hurt.

"I wanted Jon to be family tooo." Dusty's wail was muffled by Jordin's hand on the speaker.

"Let me talk to him," Jon said, wishing he could climb through the screen and be there. "Jordi, let me talk to Dusty please."

She rolled her eyes. "He's gonna be fine," she said. "You know how he is."

Jon's laugh cracked. "Yeah I do."

Jordin held the phone up to Dusty's blotchy face and his tearful eyes blinked hard, finding Jon's. Jon longed to hug his narrow shoulders right in this moment--all he could do was try to smile reassuringly. "Dust, I'm not family like your mom," Jon said. "But your Creator is my Creator too, right?"

The boy nodded tentatively.

"And that makes us brothers in a different way, wherever we are. And I will always always love you Dusty. You are good and kind and brave and I'm so proud of you and I'm so proud of Jordin. I'm going to miss you lots--" The words squeezed and Jon closed his eyes a second, fighting for his composure. "But you're going to be okay," he finished in a whisper.

Dusty heaved a sigh, rubbing the kitten over his face to dry his cheeks. "Imma find you when I grow up," he said solemnly. "And Imma punch your person in the face."

Jon's laugh shook him and he wasn't sure if it was maybe a sob instead. The phone whisked away from Dusty to Jordin, whose black winged eyebrows had shot to her hairline with horror or possibly amusement. "Dusty--what'd I tell you," she scolded. "No punching. Punching doesn't solve your problems. Count to ten. Tell a--tell your Creator."

Another heaved sigh. "Fine. Gimme Jon back."

Jon's hand was wrapped over his mouth and he blinked as Dusty came back on screen. He didn't have anything left he could say.

"Love you too, Pops," Dusty said, and kissed the air in front of the phone. "Bye."

The screen went black.

Jon blinked again, feeling tears slide cool over his cheeks and land against his fingertips. Sniffing hard, he got up, swiping his knuckles over his cheeks. God he'd been stupid to make that call today. He hoped he hadn't just ruined the Kickingbird's Christmas.

But would there ever have been a good time to say good bye?

He was at a loss, standing in the middle of the kitchen staring out at their snowy yard when Greta bounded up to him, waving her tail. She stood up and put her paws on his chest, almost tall enough to lick him in the face. Woodenly, Jon pushed her away.

"Down Greta," he said.

Cary stumped into the room, whistling through his teeth. "Morning Jon, Merry Christmas. You had coffee yet?"

"Not a good coffee," Jon said. He scooped up his phone, squeezing it until it powered off. No more calls or texts today; he was done.

Cary put the kettle on, then went to one knee to rub Greta's panting sides and fondle her ears. "Who's a good girl?" he rumbled fondly. "This one cuddles like a little bear in bed." Cary's grin flashed in his beard.

Jon dug his knuckles into his chest to try and get it unlocked to smile back. "I'm glad for you. I have one of those myself. More of a big bear, really."

Cary glanced sideways at him. "Everything okay?" he asked slowly.

Jon nodded, then realized what he was doing. Holding his hand to his chest to keep his heart from falling out of the open hole, he shook his head instead. "I said bye to Dust. And Jordi. They called. Just now."

Cary's face tightened with sympathy. "Well...that's tough, Jon. Anything I can do?"

Jon's laugh shook a few more tears loose. "Um, I could use a Care Bear hug? If you have one for me."

Cary got to his feet and put his arms around Jon, completely enveloping him in musky man-smell. "Yeah course I do."

Jon couldn't unknot his arms to hug Cary back. Under the comforting weight of Cary's hug, tears wrenched Jon open and he leaned into his brother's soft, old sweatshirt and cried. Just for a second or two.

Cary's big hand patted his head. "You're good, Jon. You're okay."

Jon rubbed his face dry on Cary's broad chest and pulled away with an unsteady laugh to splash water on his face at the kitchen sink. "Merry fucking Christmas. I hate this time of year."

"Aw, no you don't," Cary said, fiddling with their coffee pour overs and crinkling his eyes in a smile for Jon.

"Yes I do," Jon insisted.

"Nah," Cary said. "You hate cryin'. That's true any time of year. Christmas is the only time you can cry over your family shit and then go open presents with the family you have. I call that a win."

Jon blew out his lips, pretending to glare at him. "Can I not just wallow in a hole of despair for, like, five minutes? Without you bringing all this sage wisdom to pull me out?"

Cary huffed a laugh. "Nope I guess not. Not on December 25th."

There was a thunder of footsteps down the stairs and Greta bounced with a happy bark at Kurt's entrance. Kurt laughed as the dog danced up on her hind legs, holding her paws in front of her. He took her paws and swayed with her around the kitchen, her tongue lolling out in a grin, and his grin just as wide.

"Hey beautiful Greta," Kurt cooed, "How are you today?" Catching sight of the coffees, he let her go. "Beautiful Care Bear are one of those for me?"

"Sure," Cary said easily, passing his coffee across and putting the water back on.

Kurt's eyes narrowed in a mischievous smile at Jon over his mug. "Merry Christmas to you again, Jon. And again and again."

Catching the unavoidable subtext, Cary put a hand over his ear. "La la la," he sang gruffly.

Jon couldn't laugh. Getting a breath in, he lifted his shoulders to his ears and turned his palms up in a wordless ask.

Kurt stepped into his embrace, one arm hugging him back while the other kept from spilling his coffee. "Hey love, what's up?"

The long, strong shape of Kurt in his arms, the beeswax and floral smell of his freshly styled hair, his blue eyes softening with concern in his subtle, smoky 'day look', made Jon feel a little less lost.

"I talked to Dusty and Jordin," he said in an unsteady voice. "And said bye."

Kurt reached an arm to set his coffee on the counter so he could wrap Jon up more securely in his hug. Really Jon was so spoiled with good hugs these days. Sighing, he tucked his face against Kurt's neck and let his body melt into his husband's until there were no gaps at all between them.

"I made Dusty cry," Jon said shakily. "And I made me cry." He choked a laugh. "But I think we're going to be okay. In a bit."

*Second last chapter lovelies--we'll tie a beautiful bow on our project on Saturday.

I'm developing my next project, a YA novel called THE LIGHT CIRCUS over summer 2021. Add RAE'S READS to your library if you want updates about new heartfelt words about the characters you love, plus unforgettable new characters joining the cast!

It's been such a joy to share this story about all the hugs and all the close-knit family dinner parties with you over our COVID year. <333

2156 words.