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kit-herondale-carstairs · 5 years

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Kit Herondale at Pride

Super late for Pride month, but Pride is in late July in my hometown so still counts right?

Kit had been to Pride before. He had first gone when he was twelve and bored at home - his father was sleeping after a late night working and Kit had already watched enough television to set his eyes ablaze. It had rather been an accident, really. He had seen glimpses of the obnoxiously bright colors and exuberantly dressed people as he turned the television to to the news - his father always liked to watch it when he first woke up - and had thought it looked like fun. He hadn’t really known then, that he liked boys like he liked girls. He had just been young and attracted to the colors. He hadn’t interacted with anyone, either. Just walked around and observed everyone participating. The families had especially struck him - how happy they all seemed to be, all exuberant smiles and bright chatting while cheerful pop played in the background, so unlike his quiet home and his absent but simultaneously overbearing father. He had gone the next year, too, while his father was out meeting with a client and observed some more.

It wasn’t until the third year, when he was fourteen, that he went to his first Pride knowing for sure that he was more than just a casual observer. That was the year Chris Evans debuted as Captain America and Kit was only a little bit embarrassed to admit that the skin-tight uniform he wore had prompted his great Bi-awakening. The festival took on even more significance to him that year and he watched all the families with a yearning he didn’t quite understand. He hadn’t told his father that he liked boys - hadn’t told him he liked girls either - but he knew his father wouldn’t care. Things like who someone wanted to sleep with hardly mattered to a man like his father, unless it could cause a scandal. He knew his father wouldn’t kick him out or try to ship him off to one of those shitty homophobic camps he’d read about on the internet so it really shouldn’t have mattered that he also knew his father would never take him to a festival like this; would never have let Kit go himself if he knew where he was. And he definitely shouldn’t have had to fight the ridiculous urge to cry when he saw a father drape the rainbow flag he’d just bought around the shoulders of his own teenage son. Such silly things really didn’t matter.

Kit missed the next Pride parade - watching his father get ripped to pieces, learning that he was part of the super-powered, super-conservative group of holier-than-thou Shadowhunters his father always told him to stay away from, finding out they weren’t all actually that terrible and that he might actually want to be one, getting his heart broken while trying to stop one of the said Shadowhunters from committing necromancy, learning he was the product of some super forbidden love that happened decades ago and then fleeing the country he was born in to both avoid that and the boy who’d stomped on his heart had busied his schedule far too much to join in the annual festival. His new town was too small to have one of its own and London, which he learned had a truly enormous celebration after a quick interest search, was too far away to travel to on his own but Kit didn’t mind. The festival might have been one of his traditions, born of a lonely childhood, but it really didn’t matter that much to him.

Or at least, that’s what he had been thinking when Tessa had come knocking on his door at some ungodly hour in July and told him to get dressed. Pride was the furthest thing on his mind when Jem ushered him into the back of the family car, Mina already snuggled securely into her car seat. Kit had hardly even registered how ironic it was that whichever parent had dressed Mina that day had put her in a little tutu skirt made of blue, pink, and purple-colored tule. He hadn’t understood what they were doing, exactly, and neither Tessa nor Jem answered his incessant questions, even as he purposely made them more and more annoying.

By the time they had arrived in London and Tessa had carefully parked in one of the parking garages that the British annoyingly insisted on calling “car parks” despite the lack of grass or playground equipment for the cars to play in as Kit was wont to point out when he was feeling particularly patriotic for the United States, Kit was thoroughly bewildered. Kit had noticed coming in that London was even more crowded than usual and the fact that they had to park in the topmost level of the garage, even though it was still early, set him on edge. He could hear music in the distance as he stepped out of the car and he turned to Tessa in confusion as Jem busied himself rescuing a squirming Mina from her seat.

He peppered them with questions again as they began walking and received nothing but smiles in answer. The music grew louder, celebratory and cheerful, as they walked and Kit began to notice people walking with them, dressed in insanely bright clothing that was familiar to him in a way that set his heart beating faster. It had to be a coincidence - he was sure. Tessa must have heard of a new bookstore she wanted to check out - one of those that was built of old London wood and smelled like bergamot and musty books. Or perhaps Jem had discovered some traditional Chinese restaurant he wanted to take the family to - it was early, but Jem was old and older people tended to eat early.

Kit had mentioned liking boys, briefly and in a deceptively offhanded way, one of his first days with Tessa and Jem before they had witnessed Magnus and Alec’s wedding, to test the waters. He knew that, despite their young looks, both of his guardians were well over a century old and might have been filled with all sorts of old ideas. He had known that just because both of them were friendly with Magnus didn’t mean they would accept someone living with them to have the same proclivities. But, to his hidden relief, Tessa and Jem had both accepted it with the same offhandedness that Kit had offered it. Then they had never spoken of it again, which hadn’t bothered Kit at all. It wasn’t like he wanted to think very much about liking boys - one in particular - anyway.

It had been much the same way that Kit had imagined his father would have acknowledged it, had Kit ever gotten the chance to tell him. Kit had hardly been hurt about that, not when Jem and Tessa both went above and beyond his father in their attention to him on a nearly daily basis. He expected that they would accept whoever he brought home without question and be content to let the matter lie apart from that. He certainly didn’t expect them to go out of their way to take him to Pride, an event they had no connection to and where he didn’t image they would want Mina to be at. After all, he had occasionally seen some sights that were definitely not child-appropriate in his own forays to the Los Angeles festival and it would be much worse for a baby.

No, it was just a coincidence that they had decided to go to London on the day of Pride, Kit was sure. And he didn’t mind that, not really. Even as his heart clenched at the familiar sight of people dressed head to toe in the colors of their orientation, mulling around a temporary gate as they waited to be allowed into the main event.

He didn’t understand, at first, why Jem, who had Mina strapped to his chest in a baby carrier and was seemingly oblivious to the appreciative looks they were getting, led their group to the brightly dressed crowd in front of the gates. Then, Kit realized Jem must be curious about what was going on - he was slowly becoming accustomed to the modern world without the blanket of indifference every Silent Brother had but Pride was probably not something high on his list of things to learn, especially because no Shadowhunters, as far as Kit knew, participated in the celebration. Maybe Alec did, with Magnus and their sons, but Aline and Helen had been stuck in some Russian cesspit for years and Kit thought it equally unlikely that there was Pride in Faerie for Mark to participate in. And it simply didn’t seem like the type of scene that attracted straight Shadowhunters like it did mundanes. Not with their long-held and only just now changing prejudices. Jem was probably just trying to figure out what was going on.

That was what he thought, at least until Jem walked up to one of the gate volunteers who were standing under a massive banner colored in blaring hues, and offered them several bills for their donation pot. “Lovely celebration,” he told the woman cheerfully before leading the small family through the gates. Kit was astoundingly confused - even Jem, oblivious to both his appearance and most of the modern world, couldn’t have missed all the blaring signs denoting what the festival was about. He certainly couldn’t have missed all the same-sex couples mulling about. There had been no reason to actually step into the gates.

Tessa and Jem both turned to look at him, confusion and worry on their faces, and Kit realized belatedly that he had stopped in his tracks. “Kit?” Tessa asked, “is something wrong?” There was apprehension in her voice.

“Why - I don’t understand -” He was unable to finish his thought, far too confused. As far as he knew, neither Jem nor Tessa were part of the community and they hadn’t expressed any interest in it, apart from readily accepting non-heterosexual people in their lives. Kit had assumed that it was Shadowhunter - and Downworlder too, as he had met few who had bothered with mundie Pride - custom to not join in the celebration. The only one who would have interest in the celebration was him, and he couldn’t fathom they would go out of the way to join in with Pride just for him.

Both Tessa and Jem’s faces seemed to fill with a sudden sadness that Kit didn’t understand, even though he had seen it from them several times before. It was Tessa, after a moment, who finally answered Kit’s question. “Neither me nor Jem were very active in the mundane world when Pride festivals began,” she started, “but we were told that it is a very important celebration for most LGBTQIA people, particularly for teenagers and young adults. We thought you would want to participate.” There was an anxious tension in her tone as she rattled off phrases that she must have certainly gotten of an ally website. Kit’s confusion grew.

“I mean, it is for some people, sure. But I’ve been before, you didn’t need to come out of your way to take me.” He probably sounded ungrateful - he often did. Rather than seem angry by his behavior, however, Jem and Tessa seemed to grow more sad.

“The research we did suggested it was a good thing to celebrate as a family,” Jem said after sharing a look with his wife. “To show support. We’re sorry if we overstepped or made you uncomfortable. We can go, of course.” Kit’s brain had short circuited at Jem’s words. They had come to celebrate Pride. Had gone out of their way to bring him to a festival that they thought might be important to him. To support him.

Kit knew that his father - the only family he had known for most of his life - would have had no qualms with who he was. But he also knew that he would have never gone out of his way to take Kit to Pride. Would have thought it a waste of time. An unnecessary risk. But here were Tessa and Jem, who were not blood relatives, who had no actual obligation to take care of him save for their own declaration that they loved him, standing in the midst of Pride celebrants with their daughter dressed in the colors of the bisexual flag and telling him that they had driven to London just because they thought Kit would want to celebrate his identity.

Kit blinked back a sudden rush of tears as he thought suddenly of that boy he had seen years ago, being wrapped in the colors of Pride by his loving father. He had accepted that he would never have that kind of devotion. Thought he hadn’t wanted or needed it. Yet, here he was, standing beside his small, makeshift family in the midst of the cheerful music and exuberant colors of people like him. “I want to stay.” He said finally, cutting through the tension with his shaky words. “Thank you.” He hastened to wipe his eye before a tear could escape but he wasn’t quick enough. It fell, unbidden, down his cheek. Before it had reached his chin, however, Tessa reached out and wiped it away with the softest of touches. It was a gentle gesture, barely a pressure against his skin. But Kit could feel the easy love in it, the devotion of a mother he had never thought he’d feel. He could feel the same parental love in Jem’s stare and Kit had to fight back another onslaught of emotions, lest they end up dripping down his face in more traitorous tears.

Tessa and Jem didn’t say anything more, right then. But they reached for Kit, each taking a hand as they slowly, carefully, led him into the celebration. Kit allowed them the touch, basking in the familial affection, and didn’t let go even as they walked past multitudes of people.

Kit had gone to Pride a total of four times in his life. Three times, he had observed, with a quiet envy he hadn’t really understood, all the participating families around him. One time, he basked in the feeling of familial love and acceptance himself.

There was no doubt which time he enjoyed the most.

#drabble #kit herondale #kit rook #jem carstairs #tessa gray #Mina Carstairs #tda #the dark artifices #gotsm #ghosts of the shadow market #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #carstairs family #pride #lgbt pride #this got really long #might post to ao3

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