For Us

39. Good sex talk.

{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."