{Jon}

Jon drove home with feelings surging in his body he was completely unfamiliar with. He wanted to re-write his schedule to spend every evening with Kurt. He wanted to throw the locks on his door and finish what they started this morning. He wanted to get down on one knee and promise Kurt anything and everything.

Most of which was unreasonable and ill-advised at this stage in their relationship.

He took a cold shower and rolled into bed, still unsettled. He was not reassured when he woke up, hours later, flushed and sweaty, tangled in sticky sheets like he was sixteen years old instead of a nearly-grown man.

Jon peeled himself from his bed and his briefs and bundled it all up to take to the laundry room, grateful no one was home to ask questions about his bare, freckled ass hauling all his bedclothes down the stairs.

He showered again.

There was a text in his phone from Kurt, just a one minute audio file. He listened to it while he waited for his tea to steep.

Darlin' I've been working on something that's not done but...well just give a listen. This is for you.

Kurt took a breath and started to sing. It was quiet and muffled, like he was sitting in the truck, the words so tender and honest that Jon felt like they were a rebuke to his smutty headspace.

Put all the strings on me

If they tie me to you.

As Kurt sang the chorus, Jon closed his eyes and swallowed hard on the knot in his throat. How did people do this? How did they manage their big feelings and the pull of their bodies and figure out what to even do with one another?

He needed a good talking to, even if it felt like a slap in the face. He texted his dad.

<got time for me this afternoon?>

Pete's response was quick: <I'd love a walk. 2 at our usual spot?>

Their 'usual' was a trail through the river valley a short distance from Pete's office. Jon scrapped his plan to spend the afternoon at the university doing homework—he wasn't sure he could have focussed on reading and papers anyways. His dad was waiting on a bench against the trees, his bearded face lifted to the leaves turning gold against the deep blue sky.

Jon leaned down to embrace him, saying, "Good to see you, Dad. Thanks for taking the time."

"I needed a reason to get out of the office early today," Pete said with a smile, and they strolled side by side into the trees, their feet crunching on the gravel. "I was down here on my prayer walk this morning, lifting you up, and Cary and your sisters."

Jon flushed, thinking about his father praying for him while he was making out with his boyfriend in a truck just a little further along the trail. Hunching his shoulders miserably, he shoved his hands in his pockets, pretty sure he knew what his dad was going to say. Someone needed to; Jon was too far gone to do the right thing on his own, if he could even figure out what that was.

Pete glanced at him. "What's on your mind today, son?"

"Kurt," Jon said. He kicked a stone ahead of him, distracting himself from the size of the feelings with the movement of his feet. "I'm in love with Kurt. And I think he—I think he feels the same way about me." His voice was unsteady—this was a realization that was still shaking him to his bones.

Pete's face lit up. "What beautiful news!" He clasped his hands behind his back as he strolled, his forehead creasing a little with concern. "I hope Kurt will grow more comfortable with us over time. We would love to get to know him better over a meal. But knowing some of his history with his family, I understand his discomfort."

Jon wanted to shove his dad to a stop and get him to pay attention.  "Dad, it's not--beautiful. I'm not sure I should do this at all." He cleared his tight throat, rolling out his shoulders. "I need you to tell me straight, what you really think. Don't—don't be kind, okay? I feel like I've turned upside down so many times I don't know which way is up anymore. I trust you to know."

Pete laughed a little, his shoulder nudging against his. "I'm afraid I can't honour your request not to be kind, Jon."

"You know what I mean," Jon said. "Don't try and spare my feelings."

They walked in silence a few moments, dappled sun moving over the path ahead of them. "What's wrong, Jon?" Pete asked quietly. "You seem very troubled. Is this about our conversation on Sunday? You know I'll bless you whatever choice you make with your workplace."

Jon shook his head. "It's not that." He closed his fists in his pockets, wrenching himself open. "I'm afraid. If I pursue this with Kurt—we're going to be intimate, um, all the possible ways. What if we're wrong? What if I'm fooling myself it's okay?”

He tucked his arm against his side where scars spoke of a time he'd had even less confidence that he was okay and loved. "It matters to me, if I'm standing right with God," Jon said. "The Spirit's life is my life, and my body is where the Spirit lives." His laugh shook him. "I mean, I would literally be dead more than once if God hadn't intervened on my behalf. I love Kurt—but if this is going to be a slap in the face for my Father God, I have to say no. I have to choose life."

The words poured out of him as their feet moved in time, his father glancing into his face as he listened.

"You're afraid, if you become sexually intimate with Kurt—you'll grieve the Spirit?" Pete asked carefully when he was done.

Jon nodded. That was a good way to put it—his fears were way beyond worrying about doing right and wrong for their own sake. He understood if he persisted in doing something wrong, his heart would become hard; he wouldn't be able to feel and be refreshed by the inpouring love of the Spirit. Jon counted on God's life and love to sustain him every day. He wasn't willing to trade that for a person, even if that person was someone as generous and amazing as Kurt.

"Because he's a man?" Pete clarified.

"Yes." Jon's voice broke. "You've been kind to me all these years. But if it's just because you love me—and you really think this is wrong. I need you to just tell me. Before I put my life on the line here with Kurt."

"Oh Jon." Pete put his arm around his shoulders. It was a little awkward as they were walking; they bumped into each other. "I'm sorry. It's been on my mind that I should have spoken to you about these things sooner. I had this talk with Cary years ago."

They came to a bridge, and Pete slowed, picking his way off the path down the riverbank, where long grass bowed in golden waves. Pete hunkered on the grass, still limber enough to sit on the ground, hugging one knee and stretching the other leg in front of him.

Jon was too restless to sit. He paced to the rocky little beach at the water's edge, catching up a handful of stones and chucking them one by one into the water.

Pete let out his breath, laughing softly. "I didn't believe for a second you would be single and celibate the rest of your life. You're too good a catch, if I say so myself, and some thoughtful man was bound to notice and get over your defenses sooner or later."

"Uh, yeah, that happened," Jon said, sorting through the stones in the palm of his hand.

"You've always had a very sensitive conscience and you're quick to listen and obey. Quick to accuse yourself, even, and take up heavier burdens than the Lord intends." Pete's voice was steady and gentle. "Can I remind you, as your sometimes pastor, that the voice of the Spirit brings life and hope. She stirs our conscience to specific right action—not a vague sense of accusation and rejection. Is there something specific you feel stirred to do?"

Jon's laugh broke and he turned his face aside, remembering taking a mouthful of communion wine the morning after his mouth had been full of the taste of Kurt's skin. "I don't know if it's the Spirit stirring or just my own—" He clapped sand off his hands and waved them over the front of his body. "—you know, fleshly desires." His mouth twisted, using the old biblical phrase.

Pete's look was keen. "It's not wrong for you to desire your partner, son. The desires of our body are woven into God's good design for us, including our sexual desires. When you come together to fulfill those desires with your loving, committed partner, it's a very sacred thing, and deeply pleasurable for you both. Sex is one of God's best gifts. It's appropriate to approach that act with reverence and care, but sex isn't something you need to fear or be ashamed of. It's a beautiful gift."

Jon clenched the stones in his fist, feeling their corners press into his palm. "You believe that—for us," he said. "Me and Kurt. My boyfriend."

"Yes I do," Pete said. Jon looked sharply at his face; his father's eyes were steady on his, his smile creased with sadness.

"It's not straightforward," Pete allowed. "You're going to have to make accommodations and take more care than you likely would if your partner was a woman. The skin inside you is fragile and doesn't self-lubricate, and I think you'll need to attend to—habits of cleanliness before and after."

Jon startled, his face flaming. His dad had clearly been doing some of the same homework he'd been doing.

"You probably know that already." Pete's eyes crinkled at him and he shrugged, spreading his hands. "Sex is messy for everyone. When you're in a loving, long-term relationship, your sex life is full of little moments of accommodation. Even if your partner was a woman, she might be unable to receive you without pain in a certain position, or when she's heavily pregnant—and you would communicate about that and adapt so that you both continue to experience sex as a pleasurable experience."

He looked sideways at Jon, like he had more to say but was checking if he had gone far enough.

Jon hunkered down in the sand, sorting his palmful of stones from hand to hand as he listened. "Go on," he said softly. He felt like he'd heard half this story before, maybe without words, just observing his parent's relationship. He'd never put together that this could be his story too, with another man as his partner.

Pete touched the gold band on his index finger, then folded his hands loosely over his knees. "This may surprise you, son, but I have decades of experience with good sex. In the privacy of our bedroom, your mother and I enjoy doing things that might seem weird or gross to describe but are tender and delightful between us. And I believe the same can be true for you and Kurt."

Pete's forehead wrinkled a little. "I guess I'm saying I don't hold that there's one God-ordained, right way to have good sex. You know that your mother and I believe the boundary-line God lays out for us is that sex is best enjoyed inside a loving, committed relationship with your marriage partner. We've tried to pass on to you children that the boundary is there for our good, not because God's a big kill-joy. And that's the gold standard I would hold out to you: fidelity, commitment and care towards one another—not whether or not your partner has a vagina."

Jon made a face. "Ew."

Pete laughed quietly. "I mean, I personally love vaginas. One in particular."

Jon pretended to throw-up. "Dad."

Pete rubbed the side of his face thoughtfully. "I guess you feel about that the same way I would feel about finding a second penis in my bed."

"Cor-rect," Jon said drily, giving himself a little shake. He crossed his arms over his chest, taking in the fall colors in the trees and the light moving on the water before them, trying to absorb this. "So you're saying—you think I can have sex with Kurt Visser. Inside a committed relationship. And God will still love and receive me."

Pete made a soft noise. "How are you still asking this question? Do you think I could have concealed from you if I thought there was something inherently wrong with you?"

Jon flashed him a glance. Maybe he'd assumed everyone was as good at keeping their secrets as he was.

Pete held out his open hands to him. "How could the Father God love you less well than your earthly father? In all my years of pursuing Him, what I see is God making beautiful communities of men and women working together for the redemption of this whole old earth. You and Kurt are part of that with Mel and I, and your sisters and Cary, and your church. Your desire for Kurt doesn't disqualify you from intimacy with God and participation in God's life in the world. Call me a romantic, or a mystic, but I truly believe by coming together in love, under Love, you and Kurt will only multiply love."

Jon’s eyes stung in the sunlight glancing off the surface of the water and he held the stones in his hand, unthrown.

Pete laughed quietly. "If I could say anything to advise you, it would only be to allow yourself to open your life to Kurt. I know you, Jon. Don't try to—" He made a box with his hands, as if he were squishing something small. "—the way you do to the fullness of your personhood at your workplace. I understand why you make that choice for the sake of those children. But with the man you love—let yourself..." Pete opened his hands, expanding them like a flower blooming. "It's appropriate, son, for your priorities to be reshaped to fit yourself together with the person you want to spend your life with."

Jon took a breath so huge it felt like his ribs unhinged at his sides. That was what he wanted with Kurt. His dad knew him like no one else—Pete knew when Jon said he loved a man, what he meant was—this is the person I want to spend my life with.

It clicked for Jon—that was why he was so thoroughly turned on by Kurt—that was why he was interested in sex now when it had never seemed interesting before--because Kurt was the person he wanted to join everything to. In this one way Jon's body was entirely congruent with God's good design. Jon was uniquely orientated to physically desire the person he was entirely committed to.

Jon laughed, dropping the stones, and then covered his hot face with his hands to catch his breath. How relieving and terrifying at the same time. His entire life was shifting to make space for Kurt Visser; he was only going to let down more of his defenses to let Kurt in, layer by layer. So far, that experience had been as thrilling and satisfying as anything he'd done before, but there was a long way to go yet before Kurt touched the bottom of him.

They were quiet for some time, the river chuckling to itself as it fell over stones under the bridge.

"So...I recently learned how to clear my internet search history," Pete said, leaning back on his hands. Jon shot him an amused glance. "I googled 'how to have safe anal sex' and clicked anything that looked like a medical article." Pete's eyes twinkled in his blushing face. "Just in case. I could send you some links."

Jon began to laugh a little hysterically, imagining his pastor-dad at their home computer in his slippers and reading glasses, clicking these links out of concern for him.

"I'm pretty sure Kurt knows what he's doing." Jon wiped his streaming eyes, out of breath and not sure now if he was laughing or crying now. "But thanks, Dad. Good sex talk. You really went above and beyond."

As they circled back up the trail to the parking lot, they spoke of lighter things--the girls, Cary, and Mel, but Jon continued to hold open in his heart the things his father had said. Pete's good-bye hug was longer than usual, and Jon felt his contented sigh as they embraced.

"I love you so much, Jon," Pete said. "You're such a good gift in the world, you know that right? You're such a good gift to Kurt. If I get to walk you down the aisle and hand you off to him one day, I will be the proudest father on the planet."

Jon definitely had a little cry in his car about that, which was inexplicable because what he felt was a joy so pressing and bright it expanded his whole body.

Flicking tears off his face, he opened the text thread with Kurt to finally reply to the heartfelt song his boyfriend had sent to him.

<your heart is so beautiful Kurt and you made me cry again. i want all the things with you too. you've put all the strings on me and i have no regrets. Love, Jon *red heart*>

3025 words.