{Jon}

As they left the buildings of Red Deer behind, Kurt was quiet, his fingers tangled in Jon's free hand, his thumb stroking the skin of his wrist. Jon regretted dragging out that old story about a guy whose name he honestly couldn't remember. It wasn't like him to burden the people he cared about with his private shit.

"I'm sorry," Jon said. "That was a lot. I got all—messy on you."

Kurt turned swiftly to him, his grip tightening on his hand. "Don't apologize, Jon. I'm really honoured that you told me that story." His mouth was crooked. "That's happened to me too. That wasn't your first time having sex—you were sexually assaulted, Jon. That's what happened."

Jon's ears buzzed at the word. "I've looked at the definition of sexual assault a dozen times," he said. "It doesn't apply. Anyone could say--I asked for it. I literally asked him to meet me there and showed up. He asked me if it was okay while we were kissing and I said yes. And then I felt like it was too late to change my mind and I didn't say anything."

Kurt was shaking his head, hard. "No, nope, nope. The minute you don't like it anymore—the minute you're not still saying yes—it's a no. He doesn't have consent. He kept going without checking and that's on him, not you."

"It was literally on me," Jon's voice was very dry, and he was grateful to hear Kurt chuckle at his dark humour.

"It was not figuratively on you," Kurt said. "He doesn't get your firsts."

Those words felt like a key slipping into a lock and turning it open. Jon took a breath, a smile lifting his face. "Then you get my firsts," he said softly.

"Christ, I woulda been more careful if I'd known," Kurt muttered, drawing Jon's hand to hug against his chest.

"Not possible," Jon said. He laughed, relaxing into the seat. "I'm just so relieved I'm not completely defective and that worked for us."

Kurt made a soft noise of outrage. "Is that what you thought? Darlin', you're not defective because you weren't turned on by some horny teenager in his car the first time you met. It doesn't even work like that for everyone. It's normal to need an emotional connection to feel sexy. There's a word for it--look it up, it's a thing."

Jon turned this new idea over in his mind. "I thought that was only true for women."

Kurt snorted. "Uh, no. Sexist."

Jon laughed. "I'm sorry—I don't know!"

"Jon White is a sexist," Kurt said, sliding down in his seat, looking pleased with himself.

Jon smacked his chest. "You come off looking pretty good either way," he said. "Either you're an unprecedented lover, or you're the object of all my affections."

"Both could be true," Kurt said, smirking.

The overcast day broke into the kind of cold, clear sunshine that made the oranges and reds of the trees rolling by snap into vivid colour. Jon couldn't stop smiling; every part of him was warming and unfolding under Kurt's affectionate attention. Any thought he'd had that this might be a short-term thing was out the window, kicking in the dust behind their tires. He would have been happy to have Kurt Visser beside him a long time.

Kurt had his legs sprawled up on the dash, singing along full voice with Dolly Parton, and Jon drove with one hand, the other slung over Kurt's shoulder.

When Jon's phone rang he put it on speaker to talk and drive. Cary's rumbly voice joined them in the front seat. "You coming home for supper with Mom and Dad?"

Kurt flicked the volume down, glancing at him with his eyebrows up like he was alarmed.

"Oh shit," Jon said, checking the time. "I have a shift tonight. I was coming home to sleep."

"Visser with you?"

Kurt sang out, "Hellooo, all your gays are here safe. How are you?"

Huffing a laugh, Cary said, "Shoulda known. Uh... just wanted to tell you before they get here: me and Liya broke up."

Kurt made a small 'oh no!' sound.

"So if Mom asks just—let me field that one."

"Are you okay?" Jon asked.

The phone was quiet, and Jon rapidly calculated if he had the energy to go straight into dinner to be there for Cary and then work a night shift. His head said, nope, might implode again.

"I think it's the best thing for both of us," Cary finally said. "We kind of—made a mutual decision to go our own ways."

Jon and Kurt exchanged a look, each obviously wondering what more there was to that story. "Yeah we'll be there for dinner," Jon said. "Love you, okay?"

"Love you too," Cary said gruffly back, and the line went dead.

The tires crunched on the gravel shoulder as Jon pulled the car over; Kurt's lips were pressed thin, his expression wary. "Switch me spots," Jon said. "I need to text work and try and get my shift covered."

{Kurt}

Back on the road, Dolly warbled out of the car speakers but Kurt didn't sing along anymore; this was too much even for Dolly to make better. "Do you want me to clear out for this thing today?" he asked. "I could step out for supper, give you some space with your family."

(Give himself some space. Jon's church and Jon's churchy parents in one day felt like a lot.)

Jon flashed him a brief smile between texts. "No. Why would I want that? Showing you off to my parents is the perfect end to this day."

Kurt's laugh was sharp. "Said no one, ever. Do they know I exist?"

"Yes," Jon said cautiously. "I told them about seeing you at the concert the last time they were over."

"What are you tellin' them about us tonight?" Kurt asked.

Jon hesitated. "Well I was hoping...I could tell them you're my boyfriend. Is that okay with you? They're the only people I'm out to anymore."

"Tell them whatever you like," Kurt said, flipping his hand. "I'm only keeping you on the down low because you asked." His heart was pattering as he tried to remember Jon's pastor-dad from their old church. Everything about those memories, from the shape of the men in suits standing at the doors of the sanctuary, to the repetitive loop of the worship choruses made his body feel like he was bracing to take a punch. "Are they going to be okay with us? Do you think?"

"I don't know," Jon said thoughtfully, and the hair on the back of Kurt's neck lifted, unwillingly hearing the roar of his father's response to the simple words, He's my boyfriend. I'm gay, Dad.

"I've never done this before," Jon said. "The thing is, my dad is the HR Director at All Souls Mission."

It was the largest soup kitchen and mens' shelter in the city. Kurt had stayed there himself after bailing out of Nicky's house, before a spot in a alcohol addiction recovery program opened up.

"He's well aware of the policy on LGBT staff at River House," Jon went on. "He tried to talk me out of signing on. I was too embarrassed at the time to tell him, like, don't worry about it Dad. It doesn't work for me with guys, it's really fine that I sign this. I might have to face a bit of a sermon about how he told me so."

Jon seemed resigned, but not anxious at all about this prospect. Kurt couldn't say the same. He pushed his tongue against the inside of his lower lip, feeling the bump of the scar where his own teeth had cut him open under Rob Klassen's battering fist.

"I think we better not mention that you're living with us though," Jon added. "I'm guessing they're still in the 'no sex before marriage' camp. That would be a lot to process—that their son is dating, and he's sexually active, and he's living with his boyfriend."

"And he could lose his job for any one of those things," Kurt muttered. God this was fraught. It was a lot like too much. He tapped his fingers on the wheel, telling himself to just breathe.

"Also, that," Jon said. "I don't like to worry them with my stuff." He rubbed the back of his neck as he read a text on his phone. "Shift covered." His voice brightened. "I'm all yours."

1446 words.

*Lovelies, here's a helpful resource that further unpacks what Kurt says to Jon about consent.*