37. Chapter 29
Chapter 29
T he Christmas Eve banquet was the most important event of the year, and it was nearly over. Elijah watched families head to the long coat rack and bundle up to go outside. It had gone as well as it might. The upper floor of the barn looked beautiful. Instead of pumpkins and gourds and fall leaves there were two potted Christmas trees, each with fancy lights and decorations. The bar was draped in sparkly garland, and green lights had been strung down the long center of each table with a centerpiece of pinecones and poinsettias. The guests seemed to really like the food and the atmosphere.
Elijah wished, not for the first time, that Jon was here to see it.
Jolie came up to him. She looked slender in a black skirt, black hose, and a black sweater. She'd helped Elijah serve tonight, and she was just as speedy and solid as Jon was. And way more talkative with the guests.
"You seen Samuel?" Elijah asked. "I was gonna ask if he wants me out at parkin' or cleanin' up."
Elijah hadn't minded doing parking duty tonight, though he kept the walkie-talkie in his hand the whole time. The four bad brauchers had not come back to the farm, and he was feeling easier about them. Or maybe it was just that Jon's accident, and his injury, had taken the top spot when it came to worries on Elijah's mind.
Jolie was right. No one could force him to do anything. And he wasn't gonna magically turn evil if he sinned. His gifts were a blessing, intended to help people. Though how that might play out, he still had no idea.
"You don't need to do either one." Jolie held out a plate wrapped with aluminum foil. "Take this to Jon."
"He had dinner earlier," Elijah pointed out. He'd taken it over himself, though he'd been too busy to stay.
"Well, he'll sure enough want some of this fancy food. And sit with him a spell. Jon'll wanna hear how things went. It'll make him feel a part of tonight, and that's good for his morale. Besides. It's Christmas Eve. No one should be alone."
"I better ask Samuel," Elijah hedged.
Jolie gave him a motherly glower. "Do you think I just made this up? I already cleared it with them. You've been running around like a chicken with its head cut off all day, so you've off duty. Go on."
It was like being let out of school early. Elijah felt a child's delight as he hurried across the frozen lawn to Jon's apartment. Jolie was right, Jon had been by his lonesome all evening while everyone else was having the lovely banquet, and that wasn't right.
He rapped lightly on the door. He heard Jon holler, "Come in."
Jon was sitting on the love seat with his cast propped up on the coffee table, as usual. He wore red plaid flannel PJ bottoms and a white tank top. It was a little startling. Elijah had never seen him as bare as that. His brown skin danced with color from the flickering lights of the small Christmas tree in the corner. His chest and arms were muscled and sexy as all get out.
Elijah glanced away. "I brought you some food from the banquet." He waved the plate.
"Put it in the fridge. I'll have it later."
Elijah did as he was told without daring another glance at Jon. After he put the plate away, he sat in the chair near the love seat. He noticed Jon was holding a bottle on his thigh. Goose River Hard Cider.
"Where'd you get that?" Elijah asked.
Jon scratched his neck. "Friend stopped by on his way to the banquet. He heard about my ankle and brought me a six-pack."
"Oh. That's nice," Elijah said, though he wasn't sure taking booze to an injured man who couldn't walk was the best idea. Then he noticed an empty cider bottle on the end table. Jon had had at least two.
"You take a pain pill today?" Elijah asked.
Jon raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Mom. One. This afternoon."
"Oh."
Jon raised the bottle and looked at it closely. "Good stuff. Want one?"
"No thank you."
He could tell Jon was drunk. Or, if not drunk, at least feeling the booze. His eyes were half-lidded, and his speech had the quality of someone speaking extra carefully.
Jon gave him a look. "Don't be judgin' me, Elijah. It's Christmas. And I'm stuck in this room. With this leg." He looked down at his cast disdainfully.
Elijah sought for something to say. "Well… Merry Christmas."
Jon snorted. "Merry Christmas." He looked Elijah up and down. "Take off your coat. Or do you gotta be somewhere?"
"Jolie, Samuel, and Eddie are cleaning up. I'm off duty." He shrugged out of his coat and put it on the floor next to the chair.
Jon continued to stare. "I like the other black sweater better. The one you wore at Thanksgiving."
"It was too tight." Elijah smoothed a hand self-consciously down his new black sweater. It wasn't as nice as Eddie's. It had a plain opening at the neck and was made from a heavier yarn, but it also didn't cling to his body so shamefully.
"Depends on who's lookin'," Jon said.
There was a sexy lilt in Jon's voice that Elijah had never heard before. He felt his cheeks heat, and he didn't know what to say.
"How'd it go tonight?" Jon asked.
"Real good. Everyone seemed to like it. Nobody dropped any plates or anythin'."
"That's all right then." Jon took another big swig from his bottle, finishing it. He held it up to the light as if to be sure it was empty and put it down on the table.
"Is it safe to drink with your pain pill?" Elijah asked.
"Well, I don't think it'll kill me," Jon said easily. "But I am feelin' it pretty hard, now that you mention it. Funny thing is, my ankle still hurts. It's been a bear all day."
Elijah stared at the Christmas tree. Jolie had given him some gentle suggestions that he use his healing gift on Jon. But Elijah hadn't had the courage to mention it. It seemed so… so vain. To offer it out of the blue. Like he thought he was Jesus or something. Which he did not. And also, Jon took the pain pills the doctor gave him.
But Jon said his ankle still hurt. And it was Christmas Eve.
Elijah cleared his throat. "Jolie thought I could help you a little. If you've got pain."
"Oh, did she?"
"But only if you want. It's okay if not. Doesn't matter none."
Jon appeared to think about it. "She told me you took her arthritis pain away. For a few days, at least. And you sure took away the pain that day I fell. So yeah. Why not?"
Elijah chewed his lip. "Maybe this isn't a good time. With the cider and all."
Jon barked a laugh. "Far as I know, there's no worry about drug interaction with the narcotic known as Elijah . Come ‘ere. I could use a little magic tonight." He patted the seat next to him.
"It's not magic."
"Braucherei then. Show me."
Elijah awkwardly got up and sat next to Jon on the love seat. He wished Jon had put on more clothes, cause his bare arms and shoulders were distracting. Even his nipples were visible through the thin fabric of the tank top. His skin looked so soft. Elijah wondered what it tasted like, what those firm curves of muscles felt like to the touch. His belly grew warm.
"So how do we start?" Jon asked.
Elijah had to focus. "I, um, I just put my hand on your leg."
"Go for it, Voodoo Man." Jon put his hands behind his head and leaned back against the cushions. Which somehow made even more skin visible.
Elijah swallowed. He closed his eyes. If he was gonna do this, he had to get in the right frame of mind and not be lusting after Jon's body. He cleared his thoughts with some effort and reached out. He felt when he got a connection to the divine, a kind of pulsing, tingling sensation in his body. He grounded himself, his feet hard on the floor, and let his mind soar into the clouds. When the connection felt strong, Elijah brought the beam of light from above down through the top of his head. He prayed to God—or to the One Source, as Jolie called it.
With his eyes still closed, he leaned forward and placed a hand on Jon's leg, just above the cast. The flannel was soft against his palm.
He sent the golden light down through his arm and into Jon's leg.
Jon sighed and relaxed farther back into the couch. Elijah focused on the light.
This is the only gift I have to give you, he thought. His love for Jon stirred strong in his heart, and he could see again old Jon on the road ahead, waiting for him, like in the dream. He let the love flow along with the light down his arm. He continued until the feeling of intimacy and love grew too much to bear.
He pulled back his hand and opened his eyes. Jon was staring at him.
"Did that help?" Elijah asked, feeling self-conscious.
"No pain." Jon shook his head in wonder. "No tightness either. Or itch. It feels… warm. And good. Real good. Who are you, Voodoo man?"
"I'm just me."
Jon continued to stare. "You're not just anything. You're a mystery, Elijah. Like someone who doesn't belong in this world."
"I'm just a man," Elijah said, feeling a little hurt. "Jolie said spirits are around us all the time. I just tap into it, is all. You could learn how."
"I doubt it," Jon said. "Not like that." He sat up and pulled his leg off the table, a bit too hard.
"Careful! It's not like I can heal the bone. Just make it feel better for a while."
"A lot better." Jon attempted to stand and swayed dangerously. He slumped back onto his bum. "On the other hand, a pain pill, two ciders, and a dose of Elijah mighta been a bit much. Damn. I am high as a kite."
"I'm sorry." Elijah put out a hand to steady Jon's shoulder. "I didn't think."
"I'm teasin'. It's definitely the cider. Help me to the bathroom?"
"Sure."
Jon's crutch was leaning against the wall, but he didn't reach for it, using Elijah instead to get to his feet. And, maybe Elijah was shallow, but if Jon wanted to lean on him instead of the crutch, he was more than happy to oblige.
Jon draped his arm across Elijah's shoulder. Elijah had to steady his breathing. Just being this close to Jon was heady stuff. It took them a moment of awkwardness to get going. They slowly crossed the room, Jon leaning on Elijah and hopping on one foot. The bathroom was down a short hall. It was small, but it had a sink, toilet, and shower.
When they reached the door, Jon leaned forward to put a hand on the sink, hopped inside, and closed the door behind him. Elijah waited in the hall, his mouth dry and his head buzzing. It was no use trying to sort through his feelings. He felt a little awkward about the healing, but he was so happy to be here with Jon, to have Jon's trust, his kind words, for the way Jon had been looking at him tonight. It was sure enough progress.
Sometimes it’s best to let the body take over, and just do what comes natural.
Elijah's pulse quickened. Did he dare? Was it even the right time?
He heard the sound of a toilet flush and then taps run. A moment later, Jon opened the door. Elijah scooted under Jon's arm and helped him back into the hall. He paused, wondering which way to go. Back to the love seat? There was another door here, one Elijah had never seen open, that he assumed went to the bedroom. His stomach did a backflip.
"You're so pretty," Jon murmured.
Elijah blinked and gave him a disbelieving look. "Sure." No one had ever called him pretty .
"You are. 'Specially your eyes."
Jon really was drunk. And the compliments were nice. Being this close to Jon was nicer. But did Jon even know what he was saying? What his eyes were saying when he looked at Elijah like that?
"Which way you wanna go?" he asked. His voice shook.
"Bedroom." The way Jon said it sent a jolt up Elijah's spine.
Elijah helped Jon hop a few steps more down the hallway. It was very narrow. There was barely room for the two of them abreast. Elijah's shoulder brushed the wall.
"Wait." Jon stopped.
Elijah paused, looking at Jon for permission to continue. An electric current sparked between them, a change in the air pressure against Elijah's skin. The hallway was dim and confined, and the energy between them seemed to bounce off the walls and get bigger by the second.
Jon stared into Elijah's eyes. "This reminds me of a dream I had. A couple of times."
Elijah couldn't speak.
"You and me. In the feedin' aisle. You been castin' spells on my dreams, Voodoo Man?"
Elijah felt a flush of horror. "I would never do that! I mean, I… I can't, but I wouldn't if I could. That'd be wrong."
"I wouldn't mind," Jon purred. He raised his hand and stroked his thumb on Elijah's cheek. "It was the sweetest dream. I'd like to see if it's as good in real life. But 'm not so drunk I won't ask. Can I kiss you?"
Elijah's pulse throbbed a staccato rhythm in his neck. "Yes."
Jon's nostrils flared. For a moment, Elijah was sure he would. Then Jon seemed to stop himself. "Nah. Shouldn't. Not right."
Despite his words, Jon's eyes were fixed on Elijah's mouth. And he was so close with his arm draped over Elijah's shoulders, heavy and warm. He smelled of cider and of soap—pine-scented. He was so close. If this moment passed, and nothing happened, Elijah thought he might die.
"What if I kissed you ?" Elijah dared.
"Brilliant solution," Jon said solemnly. "If you kiss me, it's perfectly okay."
A little voice in Elijah's head told him Jon wouldn't be so flirty if he was sober. But Elijah's heart didn't care. And, God knew, Elijah needed to feel them together more than he needed the sun to shine tomorrow. Or his left foot.
So Elijah sank back against the wall, gently as a flower closing its petals at dusk, and pulled Jon to him. He reached up to hold the back of Jon's neck and brought Jon's mouth to his.
It was like nothing Elijah had ever felt. Jon's mouth was firm and generous, like sinking into a cushy bed. His tongue was warm, his probing surprisingly gentle and slow, and it lit a fire so hot in Elijah that he thought he might burn to ash. His skin ached, and his member was rigid as steel in his pants.
Jon made a throaty murmur of pleasure and pinned Elijah against the wall, brought his chest to press tight, then his hips. Elijah could feel that Jon was excited too. He moaned into Jon's mouth and put his hands on Jon's hips to pull him in even tighter.
Abruptly, Jon broke the kiss and stumbled back. His eyes were dazed. "Gotta sit down." He wobbled, and Elijah knew he'd be on the floor in a second.
"Here! Just a few more steps." Elijah slung Jon's arm over his shoulders again and helped him stagger the few steps to the bedroom door, opened it, all while his confused libido felt suspended in time and his pants were uncomfortably tight.
Fortunately, it was a small room, and the bed was nearby. Jon collapsed onto it, shaking. "Damn meds."
Elijah eased Jon's legs onto the bed and pulled up the blanket. "You okay?"
Jon nodded weakly. "Just dizzy." He opened one eye. "Some Romeo, huh?"
Elijah smiled. "Well. It was real good while it lasted."
Jon chuckled weakly. "Damn straight." He closed his eyes. Elijah covered him with a blanket, checked his forehead for fever—it was, in fact, clammy—and checked Jon's colors. He saw deep violet and pulsing reds, but they were fading quickly to soothing blues.
Elijah left him to sleep. He practically floated all the way back to the farmhouse.