For Keeps

30. Wholesome Christian dads.

{Kurt}

The day warmed as they swung down the last switchback towards the rustic cabin-style restaurant perched on the north beach of Annette Lake. Jon unzipped his jacket and Kurt unwound his scarf, pulling off his tuque and combing his fingers though his hair. As they stepped inside the warmth of the cabin-style interior, Jon took Kurt's hand and wove their fingers together, and Kurt checked his face. His partner looked completely un-self-conscious, holding Kurt's hand as he glanced around the dining room full of other early risers, tourists with expensive cameras and hikers with walking sticks tucked next to their chairs.

Kurt ordered a pancake breakfast; Jon ordered lunch and devoured his hamburger on a gluten-free bun, clearly ravenous. Jon was helping himself to Kurt's untouched fruit salad when Kurt asked, "So what changed with your dad, White?" The photograph of Pete White in a 'Free dad hugs' Tshirt, with his arm wrapped around Jon at a Pride parade was in Kurt's mind. "He seems like a big teddy bear now."

Jon's eyebrows flicked up and he smiled. "Yeah, he is a big teddy bear now." He plucked one of Kurt's hash browns off his plate, nibbling thoughtfully. "I think it was me, actually. When I came out."

Kurt flashed him a glance. "Oh yeah? Fire didn't rain down from heaven?"

Jon wrinkled his nose. "Not at all. I was so fucking terrified. And there was nothing."

Kurt turned his plate so Jon could reach the rest of his hash browns. "Tell me about that," he said quietly. He flashed Jon a glance. "I could use a few more wholesome Christian dad stories in my life."

Jon was leaning forward, his chin on his hand, his lips quirked. "I still can't get over how much you want me to talk about myself," he said, laughter in his voice.

Kurt grinned briefly. "I'm a devoted Jon White fan. If you're saying you don't want to tell me, I guess you better find me another story while I finish these pancakes."

There was a pause. "No, I can tell you," Jon said. "It's just...this is a story about you too. Seventeen year old you."

Kurt smoothed his hand over his front, taking a steadying breath. "Well now I have to hear it. Lay it on me, Jon."

"Okay. Short version." Jon folded his arms on the table, seeming to gather his thoughts. "The year we met? Was hell year for Dad and me. Dad was posted to a new pastoring job in this...horrible, ingrown toxic mess of a church. Sorry Kurt, your old church."

"Apology not necessary," Kurt muttered, making a face and taking a drink of orange juice.

"I had to start at a new school half way through the year. Your brother and his fucking dude bros were making my life hell in the halls. Cary was my only friend, thank God for him." Jon laughed under his breath.

Kurt was leaning his elbows on the table to hear this side of the story that he'd never heard before. All he remembered was Jon appearing in church one Sunday morning, shy and smart and adorable as hell, with freckled cheeks that flushed faintly pink whenever Kurt caught his eye.

"Broke my ribs, started using opes." Jon paused, seeming to realizing something. "Opes turned the volume way up on that voice, actually. I thought about cutting all summer, when I wasn't with you." That made Kurt's throat tight--all the shit he hadn't known about Jon then.

His partner ducked his head. "Started cutting when I was trying to quit opes, cold, without letting anybody know." Jon shivered and his fingers tightened on his arms. "Anyways. Dad caught me."

Kurt sucked in his breath, heart tripping.

"I'd had a nightmare and scratched the hell out of the cuts on my stomach. I was bleeding all over and Dad..." Jon exhaled, rubbing his eyes. "Cleaned me up. Put on a million bandages. I was fresh out of treatment and--you'd just told everyone at church I'd been using. And your dad and the rest of the Elders' board had just fired my dad, basically. And we were at the bottom."