Disclaimer: I don't own The Fosters or anything pertaining to it except my writing. All rights go to the rightful owners.
A/N: Post Wreckage, s3ep1.
Jude meant what he had said to Connor. He'd said it before and he would say it again: labels were meaningless. They didn't give any justice to the thing or person they were meant to depict, and Jude found them pointless. Why should he have to be called anything? All he was was himself, just as he had always been. It didn't define him.
But it was hard, harder than he had thought it would be, that is. The urge to reach for Connor's strong, supporting hand in the hallway or across the lunch table was so prominent, but friends, even the best of, didn't do that, especially not guys. Taylor had told, sure, but that didn't mean Jude was ready to face the music. And honestly, he had sort of expected Daria to slap him or something, for 'stealing' her boyfriend. Despite her seeming pretty cool about everything, Jude was still unsure. How had Connor suddenly become the confident, ready-for-anything one? Hadn't it been Jude that wore his sister's blue nail polish to school? Oh. Connor had done that too.
He didn't know. Deciding to take his boyfriend's hand in the middle of school was a big deal, it would change everything. It was more than a little scary. Having Connor there for support was comforting, and Jude wanted to be with him more than anything. But another part of Jude really wished things like judgment and dispense of punishment rested with God. He didn't want to be afraid, and he knew Connor would be there to protect him, despite the tiny voice in Jude's brain trying to convince Jude that he didn't want Connor's protection. Maybe he was making it more complicated than it was. That was probably it; Jude was just being himself, level-headed, pragmatic.
But would being himself only succeed in driving Connor away from being there in the way that Jude most wanted him?