Pomegranate Kora, Ch. 14
Joe was troubled.
Actually, that was how he would have called himself a thousand years ago. Now, he couldn't describe the emotion, couldn't put a name to it, because he couldn't remember ever feeling it before now.
When he'd mentioned it to Taylor, citing the burn in his chest, the tumbling of his stomach, the throbbing headache, all of which accompanied thoughts of Nick, she'd touched her hand to his cheek, smiled gently and said, "It is guilt, dear. You feel guilty."
Joe scoffed and brushed it off as absurd. He had been with a thousand lovers; why would this one make him feel anything at all?
Still, he couldn't deny the anxiety he felt whenever he entered Nick's room and found him sitting on his bed, couldn't help the discomfort that his shy smile brought him. Nick wasn't so revolted by the idea of spending time with him anymore; he actually seemed to welcome his company.
There were many things about the boy that made him interesting and pleasant to be around. Joe hadn't realized how little they'd actually spoken to each other until suddenly, they were talking every time they were together, which was more often than not, in Joe's leisure time.
Things weren't always comfortable between them. Joe only tried once to initiate intercourse; the outrage Nick exhibited in response shook the realm. And, Joe certainly didn't want to have a repeat of the rebellion; it had taken a long time to thwart the first one.
And, if he was honest with himself, he knew that he didn't truly want to be sexual with Nick again - not any time soon anyway. He credited the lack of desire to the guilt. It was hard to want to be with someone who made him feel horrible simply by pretending he was content to be here.
Nick did appreciate how gentle Joe was being. His heart hurt horribly, and he was glad that his captor had in some small way become his friend. He still wondered how Joe could be so kind to him but not let him return to Kevin, but he knew from experience not to push his luck by asking; it only led to Joe getting frustrated. It wasn't worth the yelling match, especially since nothing changed.
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They played cards.
Joe was more familiar with more traditional games, so when they could get Taylor and other deities or nymphs to join them, they often played poker and blackjack and hearts. But, when it was just the two of them, they would play speed or war or go fish, and they would talk. Nick was currently sitting with his legs folded on his chair, holding his cards close to his face. "Any 2's?"
Joe shook his head. "Go fish." He smiled at the muttered curses that fell from his companion's mouth. "Are you alright today?" It was always his first question. It set the tone of their time together.
Nick shrugged, handed over his six of hearts when Joe asked for it, smiled faintly when he sent him fishing for fours. "Woke up crying today. I miss him. I was hoping it would stop hurting, but it gets worse." He paused. "Why do you always ask? I always say the same thing. Does it make you feel good to know I'm unhappy?"
Joe sighed. "No, it does not. I am trying to understand you so that I can at least make you content with your life here."
"I think I've been quite clear about what would make me happy." Nick's voice was sharp. "While I have conceded to stay here with you because I'm grateful to you for giving Kevin's life back, I'm not going to pretend that my existence here is a happy one. I haven't settled for something in a long time, and now that I've had the best there is, I'm certainly not settling for you."
The silence draped heavily over them. Joe clenched his jaw. "Do you have any eights?"
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"So..." Taylor perched on the edge of the bed she shared with Joe. She let her hand rest on his stomach. "What are you going to do?" Her voice was gentle. She already knew the answer.
Joe stared up at the ceiling, let his hand fall over his wife's. "I don't know. He is not happy here. He will not be happy here. Can I, in good conscience, keep him here? I always thought that I could convince him to be happy with me."
Taylor shook her head. "Even if he did begin to enjoy being here, he has someone he loves on earth. We cannot expect him to choose this place. He belongs with the living." She paused thoughtfully. "He has partaken of our food."
Joe nodded slowly, rubbing her hand. "Yes. He will have to return, if we allow him to go home, if only for a few hours at a time."
"That would be pleasant for us. I think he would be satisfied with that arrangement."
He sighed, sitting up slowly, and leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Let us go tell him then. He will go home immediately."
Her eyebrows lifted. "So easily?"
"I am gaining nothing by him being here when he is miserable. It only puts that wretched taste in my mouth. I would rather find a new lover than one who wounds my pride in denying me." The words were breezed out like someone who had thought carefully about what he would say if a person asked him why. He didn't want to admit that his feelings toward the boy crossed a line into human emotions that staggered his self-assurance.
Taylor knew all those things well enough about him; she took enough satisfaction in being aware of them that she didn't need to mention it to him. In silence, she followed him out, down dark hallways toward the room where Nick passed his time.
The boy was asleep, tucked deep under heavy blankets, and Joe murmured, "Ah, that's right; it is night in his part of the world." He paused there at the end of the bed, watching him sleep, and it seemed strange to him that so much thought had gone into this decision, this action that would only take a moment to execute. He considered waking him, saying goodbye, listening to the joyous thank you that would no doubt greet him.
But, there was a better place for Nick to wake. Joe waved his hand over him, and the boy was gone.
Actually, that was how he would have called himself a thousand years ago. Now, he couldn't describe the emotion, couldn't put a name to it, because he couldn't remember ever feeling it before now.
When he'd mentioned it to Taylor, citing the burn in his chest, the tumbling of his stomach, the throbbing headache, all of which accompanied thoughts of Nick, she'd touched her hand to his cheek, smiled gently and said, "It is guilt, dear. You feel guilty."
Joe scoffed and brushed it off as absurd. He had been with a thousand lovers; why would this one make him feel anything at all?
Still, he couldn't deny the anxiety he felt whenever he entered Nick's room and found him sitting on his bed, couldn't help the discomfort that his shy smile brought him. Nick wasn't so revolted by the idea of spending time with him anymore; he actually seemed to welcome his company.
There were many things about the boy that made him interesting and pleasant to be around. Joe hadn't realized how little they'd actually spoken to each other until suddenly, they were talking every time they were together, which was more often than not, in Joe's leisure time.
Things weren't always comfortable between them. Joe only tried once to initiate intercourse; the outrage Nick exhibited in response shook the realm. And, Joe certainly didn't want to have a repeat of the rebellion; it had taken a long time to thwart the first one.
And, if he was honest with himself, he knew that he didn't truly want to be sexual with Nick again - not any time soon anyway. He credited the lack of desire to the guilt. It was hard to want to be with someone who made him feel horrible simply by pretending he was content to be here.
Nick did appreciate how gentle Joe was being. His heart hurt horribly, and he was glad that his captor had in some small way become his friend. He still wondered how Joe could be so kind to him but not let him return to Kevin, but he knew from experience not to push his luck by asking; it only led to Joe getting frustrated. It wasn't worth the yelling match, especially since nothing changed.
-----------
They played cards.
Joe was more familiar with more traditional games, so when they could get Taylor and other deities or nymphs to join them, they often played poker and blackjack and hearts. But, when it was just the two of them, they would play speed or war or go fish, and they would talk. Nick was currently sitting with his legs folded on his chair, holding his cards close to his face. "Any 2's?"
Joe shook his head. "Go fish." He smiled at the muttered curses that fell from his companion's mouth. "Are you alright today?" It was always his first question. It set the tone of their time together.
Nick shrugged, handed over his six of hearts when Joe asked for it, smiled faintly when he sent him fishing for fours. "Woke up crying today. I miss him. I was hoping it would stop hurting, but it gets worse." He paused. "Why do you always ask? I always say the same thing. Does it make you feel good to know I'm unhappy?"
Joe sighed. "No, it does not. I am trying to understand you so that I can at least make you content with your life here."
"I think I've been quite clear about what would make me happy." Nick's voice was sharp. "While I have conceded to stay here with you because I'm grateful to you for giving Kevin's life back, I'm not going to pretend that my existence here is a happy one. I haven't settled for something in a long time, and now that I've had the best there is, I'm certainly not settling for you."
The silence draped heavily over them. Joe clenched his jaw. "Do you have any eights?"
--------------------------
"So..." Taylor perched on the edge of the bed she shared with Joe. She let her hand rest on his stomach. "What are you going to do?" Her voice was gentle. She already knew the answer.
Joe stared up at the ceiling, let his hand fall over his wife's. "I don't know. He is not happy here. He will not be happy here. Can I, in good conscience, keep him here? I always thought that I could convince him to be happy with me."
Taylor shook her head. "Even if he did begin to enjoy being here, he has someone he loves on earth. We cannot expect him to choose this place. He belongs with the living." She paused thoughtfully. "He has partaken of our food."
Joe nodded slowly, rubbing her hand. "Yes. He will have to return, if we allow him to go home, if only for a few hours at a time."
"That would be pleasant for us. I think he would be satisfied with that arrangement."
He sighed, sitting up slowly, and leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Let us go tell him then. He will go home immediately."
Her eyebrows lifted. "So easily?"
"I am gaining nothing by him being here when he is miserable. It only puts that wretched taste in my mouth. I would rather find a new lover than one who wounds my pride in denying me." The words were breezed out like someone who had thought carefully about what he would say if a person asked him why. He didn't want to admit that his feelings toward the boy crossed a line into human emotions that staggered his self-assurance.
Taylor knew all those things well enough about him; she took enough satisfaction in being aware of them that she didn't need to mention it to him. In silence, she followed him out, down dark hallways toward the room where Nick passed his time.
The boy was asleep, tucked deep under heavy blankets, and Joe murmured, "Ah, that's right; it is night in his part of the world." He paused there at the end of the bed, watching him sleep, and it seemed strange to him that so much thought had gone into this decision, this action that would only take a moment to execute. He considered waking him, saying goodbye, listening to the joyous thank you that would no doubt greet him.
But, there was a better place for Nick to wake. Joe waved his hand over him, and the boy was gone.