{Kurt}

Kurt curled under the covers of his bed, his battered phone screen lighting up the soft space, the impossible text glowing up at him.

<It's Jon White... I wish things were different for us>

For us.

Kurt's heart felt so big in his chest he had to remind himself to breathe. A thousand things he could say back, that he'd imagined himself saying to Jon over the years, flapped around his brain but for once he couldn't get them out into words. After starting and deleting a dozen messages, he turned off his phone to try to sleep.

{Jon}

Jon checked his phone the next morning as their cat, Misty, wove through his legs meowing for food. His message looked lonely on the screen and he thought of something more he wanted to say.

<I listened to your song Unrequited new yes? It wasn't on your EP last year>

Cary was already gone to work, but had left coffee in the pot for him. Jon blended his morning bullet proof with turmeric and coconut milk. While the drink whirred Jon remembered the feel of Kurt's breath on his cheek as he told him a secret, lying on the floor of Kurt's bedroom under a blanket fort they had built. He opened the one-sided message thread and wrote:

<It gave me all the feels. I wish I was the person I am today that summer with you>

{Kurt}

Kurt was at the worksite with Cary Douglas when the distinctive text chime rang in his pocket, telling him it was White. Twice. His heart skipped a beat and he glanced at his phone. Mudding the next seam at record speed, he composed his text back in his mind.

"Can we use the washroom down here?" he asked Cary.

Cary waved his mudding tool at the doorway and Kurt excused himself. He leaned against the bathroom door, fingers flying.

<been writing unrequited for years just never brave enough to perform it live *blushing smiley* glad it gave u all the feels me too obv *crying smiley* why do u wish u were the person u r today?>

{Jon}

Jon studied through lunch and spent the afternoon buried in the University library before his shift. Possibly he fell asleep on his Psych textbook. He didn't have time to check his phone until he was waiting in the drive-through for a wrap and smoothie. Seeing Kurt's name and the emojis made his face heat.

"He wrote me back," he said softly. He was alone so frequently that he'd never broken the habit of talking to himself. On good days it felt like Someone was listening, as if he never was really alone.

He meant to spend his break catching up on work emails--instead he sat on a park bench and stared into space trying to answer Kurt's question.

<I guess two things: I wish I was the person I am today and you were the person you are today and we had that summer back. It's stupid because we were just kids and how could we know what we know now>

He swallowed, shutting his eyes briefly, then texting the rest: <I had nothing to lose then and I wish that was still true>

{Kurt}

Kurt had to catch a ride with Cary to their worksite because his piece of shit Corolla wouldn't start again. Leaning an elbow on the dusty passenger side door of Cary's truck, Kurt blinked at the morning sunlight gilding the empty streets and thought about Jon's last text.

"Can I ask you a question, Douglas?" he ventured.

"Shoot," Cary said.

"You don't have to tell me if it's none of my business. But, um. Why isn't Jon out? Is it his churchy parents?"

"Nope," Cary said gruffly. "Pete an' Mel know. They've known for years. They're good with Jon bein' gay."

Kurt slid him a look, rubbing his hand over his mouth. That was a surprise.

"I think it's his work," Cary said.

"I thought you said he's in social work. If he's working for the government that's all protected—it's not 2004; we're a liberal, gay-loving country now."

"He's working for a Christian not-for-profit," Cay said. "River House. Lookin' after kids the foster system don't want. I think his house didn't get the liberal gay-lovin' memo."

Kurt tasted sick in the back of his mouth. "He's not still eating their homophobic shit about being gay, is he? 'Cause that's a fucking deal-breaker for me. I can't stomach it even a little."

Cary made a huffing noise. "A deal-breaker, huh?" He gave Kurt a knowing look, his dark eyes crinkling in a smile. "You two in touch?"

Kurt couldn't keep his lips from curling in a smile back. "Maybe. A little." God, he was blushing. Kurt Visser was not a blusher.

"Mm-hm," Cary said, but he looked pleased. "Nah, Jon's good with himself. The kids at his work are just his whole life, is all. He don't have time for a boyfriend if he's even allowed. No one's ever caught his eye to give him a reason to make the time. Up to now."

{Jon}

<what's your favourite song that you wrote?>

{Kurt}

<loud and proud gets the most radio play *laughing with tears emoji* *rainbow emoji* *sparkle heart emoji* but broken heart is my fave a single i released a year and a half ago>

{Jon}

A link arrived shortly after this text and Jon clicked it, putting in his earbuds to listen. Kurt's smoky voice told a story of bending to please until he broke and the chorus made Jon cover his eyes and hold his breath until the hurt was done.

Jon: <*broken heart emoji* *crying emoji* Was that about your dad?>

Then hastily followed up with: <sorry if that's too personal you don't have to answer that>

{Kurt}

Kurt composed the answer, tucked in the corner of his bed, his back safe against the wall while the sports' game played quietly in the background.

<yeah it's about my dad but what i didn't get when i wrote it was my boyfriend was the exact same. I'm so stupid when it comes to men i keep picking the wrong ones>

<nothings too personal for u to ask white *red heart emoji*>

{Jon}

Jon focused on his breathing as he flowed through the movements of his yoga routine, morning light peeking in through his living room windows. He felt as if he could hear Kurt's voice in his ear, reading the texts out loud. The last message was a hot weight in his stomach and he breathed to contain that fire, bank it up and hold it. When he wiped the sweat off his face he knew what he wanted to say back.

<it hurts me you got hurt. I was afraid that song was about me hurting you>

{Kurt}

<god no totally not Jon you are my purest memory of gay love *red heart* *rainbow emoji* even though we were soooo closeted lol>

<do u think you'll ever date?>

That text hung in the air, unanswered, for twelve hours and Kurt tried to go about his business like everything good in his life wasn't riding on six stupid words he'd written to a guy he might possibly be getting attached to. If he'd ever gotten detached from Jon in the first place.

He was padding around some dude's apartment, naked, hunting for his boxer-briefs, when his phone buzzed in his hand. (Kurt's first rule of hooking up—never let your phone out of reach. It's your ticket out if things go south.) A quick glance revealed a text from Jon, and Kurt's eyebrows flicked up hopefully.

"You don't have to go." The guy was blinking sleepily at Kurt, sheets in disarray around his bare limbs. "Let me take you for drinks."

Kurt shot him a smile, recalling the name attached to his Grindr profile. Marcus. Normally he'd have said yes—Marcus was polite and currently sober and Kurt had very much enjoyed passing the time on top of his broad, furry body. "Sorry lover--I'm not a drinker," Kurt said. "Have to get my car into the shop before it closes."

The guy waved his hand at his handsome, hardwood dresser. "Pass me my wallet. I'll cover your timing belt if it means you'll drive over here again."

Kurt was tempted, but he didn't need the money now. "Nah, I'm good." He tugged on his jeans and shoved his phone in his pocket, barely restraining himself from checking the texts right here. "Thanks for the offer."

"Can I see you again?" Marcus asked, leaning his cheek on his palm to watch Kurt get dressed.

Kurt shrugged. "Schedule's pretty booked these days. Can't make any promises."

The man's mouth pouted. "Kiss me good-bye, then."

Chuckling, Kurt leaned in briefly to clasp his arm and air-kiss both his cheeks. The lidded look Marcus gave him told Kurt he'd been hoping for more, but Kurt knew better. Hooking up was free. Kisses came with strings. Kurt wasn't letting himself be tied down again unless he was very very sure of his partner. He'd been hurt too many times to be caught again.

Outside Marcus' condo-apartment building, Kurt locked himself in his parked car and swiped open his phone.

Jon: <I don't want to leave you hanging but I don't have an answer>

Pushing his hand against his aching chest, Kurt took a slow breath. No answer wasn't the same as 'no', right?

There was a link to a song, with a follow-up message: <this song made me happy this morning and I thought of you>

Kurt thumbed the song link and leaned his forehead against his arms, crossed over the steering wheel, to listen. The lyrics were as difficult to interpret as Jon's text, but the yearning behind them came through loud and clear.

Put it all behind us
Nothing to remind us

In the small space of the car, Kurt became aware that he reeked of spunk and sweat and the fabric softener in Marcus' sheets. As pleasurable as the afternoon had been, it occurred to him that he would have traded every minute for just half an hour talking with Jon face to face--fully clothed, not even touching. Was that even in the realm of possibility?

As long as Jon was still texting him, Kurt figured he at least had a shot.

On his way home, he picked up a jar of sea salt exfoliant and treated himself to a long, luxurious shower scrubbing the smell of another man's body out of his skin. If he closed his eyes on his cramped, rust-stained shower stall he could imagine he was at the spa. Kurt loved the spa. Next paycheck he was totally going to the spa.

{Jon}

Jon didn't have time to check his personal phone during a work shift on a normal day—and certainly not on a day spent at the police station filing a statement about the bruises and behaviours he'd observed in the first day of Grace's stay at River House. By the time he exited the police station, Jon was numb and the child hanging her head beside him looked as exhausted as he felt.

Grace was silent all the way to the car, until Jon shut the driver's side door and buckled himself in.

"Where am I going now?" Grace's voice was throaty and low, like a sixty-year old smoker lived in her ten-year old chest.

Jon met her eyes in the rear-view mirror. "You're going home, Grace," he said. "That's all done; the police will do their jobs now. No one is hurting you again."

She kept her face turned sideways, just glancing at him through her thick bangs. "Home."

Jon ducked his head and started the car. That word didn't mean anything to a child like Grace. "Someplace safe for you," he amended. "Angel's making us macaroni for supper."

There was a pause. "With a crispy top?" Grace asked. "Or from a box?"

A ghost of a smile touched Jon's mouth. "With a crispy top. We'll set up your room tonight. It's all yours—no one can come in your room if you don't invite them."

Another pause. "Will there be a night light?"

"There will be a night light," Jon reassured her. "In your room and in the hall on the way to the bathroom. You're not the only one at River House who's scared of the dark."

"I'm not scared," Grace said stoutly. "I just need a light to find my way to pee. And to see anyone coming."

Jon's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "I have good news for you, Grace," he muttered. "No one's coming in your room at night ever again, if I have anything to do with it."

In his car at the end of that seemingly endless shift, Jon checked his personal texts. Seeing Kurt's name in his notifs gave him a little boost of positive energy and he shoved his cigarette pack back in the glove compartment to read Kurt's message instead.

Kurt: <today is 140 days sober *party horns* not counting the night we met at the show Douglas probably told u what an asshole i made of myself tho he was very chill about it. I love Nicky as a musician but all the hours of practice with him were super stressful plus i thought u left because u hated me. I feel like things r taking a turn for better in my life *blushing smile*>

Jon's mouth curved up in a smile in return. At least someone was having a good day. He thumbed a response, too wiped out to filter himself. <glad *gold heart* my day was shit. some humans just shouldn't breed omfg>

{Kurt}

Kurt blinked at this message, then stepped out of his Alcoholics Anonymous meeting to lean against the wall outside and respond. <are u ok? what happened?>

{Jon}

<I can't tell you the shit I saw today the XXX story in a child's mouth the visit I had to make to the police now that she's safe with us. I'm going to kick the shit out of our punching bag tonight>

<sorry for dumping on you>

{Kurt}

"Ohhh Jon." Kurt exhaled, rubbed his eyes as he remembered what Cary had told him about Jon's work. Kids the foster system doesn't want. He wrote: <u r not dumping i asked *red heart*>

<u r that childs hero today Jon and that matters>

{Jon}

Jon stripped and threw all the clothes he'd worn to the police station into the washing machine; he was fresh out of the shower when Kurt's text arrived. He sank onto the side of his bed, water still beading on his bare back. "Yeah right," he said softly.

<honestly? never feels like enough>

{Kurt}

<why do u do it?>

(Jon)

Jon flowed from warrior to warrior pose while the humidifier sighed next to him and sweat ran off his body in little rivers, taking all the toxic shit from this day with it. He was going to need to shower again and he didn't care. As he moved, he felt the answer to Kurt's question thrumming just under his calm, focused headspace, hard won after working out until his muscles shook with exhaustion.

<you're right it matters. I do it because I had everything those kids should have had. I was always loved and safe in my house and there's a responsibility that comes with that to give back all the good I've been given. It's a good hurt>

<at least I tell myself that. Easier to say after a long bikram yoga sesh *angel smiley face*>

{Kurt}

Kurt looked up from his phone screen at his empty apartment. "Bikram yoga sesh?" He put it into a search box and fell down a deep rabbit hole, watching videos online of men demonstrating yoga poses and imagining they were Jon White. He had to take a long hot shower afterwards.

He typed <I love you> and deleted.

Retyped <I love that about u White>.

Kurt held the phone against his chest, swallowing on the rest he wanted to say. Can I meet you somewhere? Can we talk in person? Can we just be friends? This thread of words felt like it was holding him up right now. He reached for something more he could say to keep Jon talking to him.

<makes me think of Lovers prayer were u there to hear it? I closed the show with it>

{Jon}

Jon googled the song, scrolling and scrolling through the results. Nothing. He sighed, admitting:

<Sorry I missed that one. I can't find it online>

{Kurt}

<I'll sing it for you>

{Jon}

Jon froze, staring at that message. "What?" He looked at the darkened window of his bedroom like Kurt might appear on the street below to serenade him.

Minutes later a voice file appeared. Jon plugged in his headphones and buried himself under his covers. Kurt's voice was unaccompanied, clear and raw, singing a prayer to a lover for peace and a life full of good, ordinary things, sweet with sadness and longing. Jon couldn't help picturing the other man singing this into his phone just moments ago, his chest expanding for every breath.

He had to take a cold shower before his body was ready to go to sleep.

<so beautiful *red heart* *crying face* did you write that for someone?>

His throat was tight with the words he left unsaid: I wish you would sing that for me.

{Kurt}

<haven't met that person yet since i sobered up i stay out of bars *vomit emoji* the smell makes me want to drink to forget i'm there and i hate going out alone>

<I keep hoping some hottie sweetheart is going to walk into my AA meeting *laughing with tears* my only consolation is the straight dudes there r thinking the same thing lol>

<do u do NA meetings?>

{Jon}

<lol>

<I don't do NA meetings I did a ton of work with a counsellor during high school and I feel like I'm in a healthy place. Yoga is my therapy now *blushing smiley*>

<some day your gay hottie sweetheart will come I know it Kurt *sparkle heart*>

{Kurt}

"Stop it," Kurt said to the screen, his face warm. "Stop being so damn cute, Jon." He got up and walked around his tiny apartment, feeling restless and lonely. He had been ignoring the notifs piling up in his hook-up apps, but for a moment he was tempted to make plans for tonight. Kurt Visser sucked at being alone.

Another text came in, the ordinary chime, and Kurt hesitated before opening it. There were way more people in his contacts' list that he didn't want to hear from than not.

It was Cary: <fire tonight want to come over>

Kurt sucked in his breath, fingers flying: <yes will Jon be there>

Cary: <obv yes>

"Shit-shit-shit." Kurt threw open his closet. <what do I wear?>

<clothes> Cary said. <pants shirt shoes>

Kurt snorted, rolling his eyes. "Thanks so much for that."

<nothing fancy> Cary added. Kurt let out his breath. This was not a big deal; he'd picked up dozens of guys. He could fucking dress for the occasion.

It took an hour to look suitably 'not fancy.'

*Why do you think Kurt says "Nothing's too personal for you to ask, White"?

What do you think Jon has to lose?

Re-readers, you'll notice new material for both Kurt and Jon here--a glimpse into one of Kurt's hook ups, and more about Grace's arrival at River House. Does this material help fill out Jon and Kurt's characters? Do you feel differently about either of them seeing them in this light?*

2485 words.