[Far away, says Yeshua, and he sounds like a mouthful of smoke. He has a voice like incense: it's rich, all smoky, and it tricks the mind. Well, it could trick the mind, if Wilhelm were not careful. He must be cautious in rubbing along the spread of Yeshua's hand, and it's caution just as much for his own self. Yeshua says it isn't Wilhelm's fault, that not any of it is. (Wilhelm presses his thumb into the crest of Yeshua's palm, and then he kneads into each prescient line.) Yeshua groups it all together, all of it, all that he wanted to leave, as if Wilhelm isn't stark in the middle of it. (Wilhelm touches the ridge of each tendon in Yeshua's wrist, and then he's precise about following Yeshua's undercurrent by pushing his thumb along each and every finger, all fragrant, all five.) And Wilhelm is well aware of the fear that he elicits, and he is aware of his capacity to keep it at bay. He is aware of his refusal to do so. He may have a soft throat, and his tongue may be rosy, but he doesn't have the give to him that Yeshua requires. If he had so much give, he'd fit better in Yeshua's palm. It isn't so bad now, the alignment of their hands--they can settle into each other rather nicely. But if Wilhelm sank for him in a certain way--well, if Yeshua were glad for it--well, all else would sink along with Wilhelm. Wilhelm was not built to drown, not in the last gasps of this domain, and not even in Yeshua's palms or power or pretty fragrance. He feels like he could do that, especially when he touches the inside of Yeshua's wrist like this, but it's not his calling. That cannot be his calling. Whether or not it's regrettable, he is made for more than drowning in the contact between them.
Regardless--
He laces their fingers together, loosely.]
Why don't we take our fill in my bedroom, [he says.] Dinner can find you there. [It isn't a question, but it is an encouragement.] There are always so many pieces to you--I shall strip it all away. I can do that for you, Yeshua. [All the straps, everything that fastens, and each part Wilhelm has taken care to find designs for--Wilhelm can take just as much care to clear them away from Yeshua's body. Likewise, he can give all Yeshua's holy highways and avenues of power the attention they've been lacking. He doesn't need to think about how to trace them. He could do it blind, if Yeshua were to blind him.
And Wilhelm doesn't sound seduced. There's no catch in his throat, nothing that sounds like a welling of blood within him. When he's silken in the way of lilies, it's because he always is. But while he rises from his seat, he still holds Yeshua's hand. If they walked hand in hand, and if they kept walking that way, and if their joining were to last, where could that take them? Where could Wilhelm let Yeshua lead him?
No, Wilhelm doesn't sound seduced. Not even when...] You shake, Yeshua. Your hand shakes at the touch of my hand. The more you deprive yourself, the more sensitive you grow. Do you know what you'll do about that? [He's not trying to be mean, of course. He might sound too aerial, with muslin rolling out of his mouth, but it's care--or, he might say, consideration--] Will you last the night beneath my hand?
[If Yeshua wishes to leave before morning, then he can do so--he is capable of doing so, and of choosing that. Yeshua is capable, Wilhelm reminds himself. He has the capacity to think and do. A driving will. Yeshua could leave right now, if he willed as much. Or he could let Wilhelm touch him for just a little while, and leave right after, instead. If he chooses not to last the night, Wilhelm will have a quiet breakfast, and he won't be having it in bed.]
no subject
Regardless--
He laces their fingers together, loosely.]
Why don't we take our fill in my bedroom, [he says.] Dinner can find you there. [It isn't a question, but it is an encouragement.] There are always so many pieces to you--I shall strip it all away. I can do that for you, Yeshua. [All the straps, everything that fastens, and each part Wilhelm has taken care to find designs for--Wilhelm can take just as much care to clear them away from Yeshua's body. Likewise, he can give all Yeshua's holy highways and avenues of power the attention they've been lacking. He doesn't need to think about how to trace them. He could do it blind, if Yeshua were to blind him.
And Wilhelm doesn't sound seduced. There's no catch in his throat, nothing that sounds like a welling of blood within him. When he's silken in the way of lilies, it's because he always is. But while he rises from his seat, he still holds Yeshua's hand. If they walked hand in hand, and if they kept walking that way, and if their joining were to last, where could that take them? Where could Wilhelm let Yeshua lead him?
No, Wilhelm doesn't sound seduced. Not even when...] You shake, Yeshua. Your hand shakes at the touch of my hand. The more you deprive yourself, the more sensitive you grow. Do you know what you'll do about that? [He's not trying to be mean, of course. He might sound too aerial, with muslin rolling out of his mouth, but it's care--or, he might say, consideration--] Will you last the night beneath my hand?
[If Yeshua wishes to leave before morning, then he can do so--he is capable of doing so, and of choosing that. Yeshua is capable, Wilhelm reminds himself. He has the capacity to think and do. A driving will. Yeshua could leave right now, if he willed as much. Or he could let Wilhelm touch him for just a little while, and leave right after, instead. If he chooses not to last the night, Wilhelm will have a quiet breakfast, and he won't be having it in bed.]