Convoke - Chapter 28: Chapter 28

Cal sat at the bar and sipped a pint with a gleeful twinkle to his greying eyes. Tom watched him carefully, wondering what he was going to say with a face full of mischief. "Not working today?" he asked.
"Unlike you, I give myself a reasonable number of days off," Cal replied. He then tilted his head in Ezra's direction. "So then, what's going on with you and the dark cloud over there?"
"Nothing," Tom said quickly.
Cal raised a brow. "I thought I was your best friend. You're supposed to tell me everything."
"I'm being serious," Tom whispered.
Cal made an O shape with his lips. "How sad." He gulped his lager with a frown. "Why? Are you not flirting hard enough?"
"Please be quiet," Tom groaned.
"I think you should just go for it, as much as we're all wary, you're clearly so in love with him. Just kiss him."
"Cal," Tom hissed.
"What are you waiting for?"
"He doesn't want it. Just keep your voice down."
"He does." Cal leaned forwards. "I'm whispering as quietly as I can."
"He can probably hear you."
"Surely he would be staring if he could."
They both turned towards the demon. His elbows rested on the wooden table, and he held the book up, covering his face with it as he read. Tom knew Ezra would be blushing enough for it to blotch all over his face and down his neck. He would be pursing his lips until they turned white and staring at the pages without reading at all.
"You're embarrassing him. Just shut up or talk about something else," Tom said sternly enough to be an order.
The thought of kissing Ezra had planted firmly in his mind. He thought of little else, especially when Ezra finally approached the bar for another drink. His cheeks were still a little pink, his brown eyes big and warm, his full lips soft as he asked, "Can I please start paying for drinks now?"
At the sound of his deep voice, Cal looked up, smiling.
"No," Tom said at the same time as his parents, who were back from collecting glasses from the beer garden and chatting for longer than necessary with locals.
"You drink here for free Ez, for saving our sons life when you could have kept to your own business," Moira said, winking at Tom when her back was turned to the demon.
Tom poured Ezra another drink and as he passed it over the bar, Ezra's fingers clasped his before Tom could let go. Their eyes locked, sharing a longing expression. Instead of shyly walking back to his corner, Ezra set the drink down and pointed to the red top stool next to Cal. "Do you mind?" he asked quietly.
Tom then noticed how he carried his book too, and his denim jacket.
"Oh, not at all!" Cal leapt from his own stool and yanked the other one out. "What are you reading?"
"Nothing too interesting," Ezra mumbled, letting Cal read the title.
"The History of Wileshire Businesses." Cal screwed up his nose. "Yeah, not interesting."
When silence fell, and Ezra started chewing on his bottom lip and staring anywhere but in Cal's direction, Tom said, "I have the day off tomorrow."
"What!" Cal yelled. "But I'm working all day tomorrow."
"I'll just have to hang out with Ez then." Tom raised a brow when Ezra glanced up at him through his lashes.
"I'm free until I'm not," Ezra mumbled.
"What's that mean?" Cal asked.
"It means that he doesn't know when he'll be called upon by an angel to do soul stripping duties," Tom explained.
"Are you available to them twenty-four hours a day?" Cal asked.
"Unfortunately." Ezra shifted uncomfortably on the stool.
"I'd hate that. Are there times you don't want to go?"
"I don't ever want to go."
"What sort of stuff do you get called out to?"
Tom saw something change in Ezra's expression- the tightening of his jaw, a darkness to his eyes, the slight flaring of his nostrils. "I don't want to talk about that," he said bluntly, staring intensely at Cal without even a blink.
Cal nodded immediately. "Sorry."
Ezra's irritated gaze shifted to Tom, who smiled warmly, and his tense shoulders relaxed. He cleared his throat, sinking into his stool with a long exhale. "Where do you work, Cal?"
The conversation started flowing again. Cal spoke enough for the both of them when Ezra stopped asking questions and started listening. Cal told him stories of him and Tom at school, and at college, and their drunken adventures. Tom's parents often chimed in with their own stories. Everyone made sure to include Ezra. When they spoke, they looked at him and carefully asked him things, and made him feel like he a was a part of the conversation.
Tom could see him relaxing the longer he was around them. Cal had a wonderful way of making anyone comfortable, no matter how shy or nervous or anti-social, especially when he was four pints down.
Tom was changing the playlist on his phone when the main door opened and slammed in the wind. Farmer Joel stood with a black rucksack and a dark blue hoodie and black jeans in his other arm. He marched up to the bar with a scowl. "Who does this belong to?" Joel asked, slamming the clothes onto the bar. "Someone's been sleepin' in my barn. You see the comings and goings of people in this village. Anyone loiterin' about looking homeless?"
Tom peered at the clothes. The blue hoodie looked familiar. "What's in the bag?" he asked, catching Ezra's panicked expression, and suddenly understanding.
"Toiletries, food, a sleeping bag. Someone has been trespassin' on my land!" Joel dropped the bag and stormed to Declan to ask him the same question.
"Cal," Tom hissed. "Say that the stuff is yours."
"What?" Cal frowned. "But it's not-"
"I know it's not, but just say that it is. I'll explain later. Think of something, quickly!" He then pointed at Ezra. "Don't say anything."
Ezra lowered his head, only making eye contact with his pint glass that was permanently to his lips as a distraction.
When farmer Joel returned to the bar to grab the clothes and rucksack, Cal leapt off his stool, wringing his hands together. "It's my stuff," he said quietly, not wanting the entire pub to listen in on his lies.
"What boy?" Joel hissed.
"It's uh . . . my stuff. Tom dared me to sleep in your barn for a week without you noticing."
Joel looked between the two boys, wide eyed and in disbelief, ignoring the anxious demon between them. "Stupid boys!" Joel yelled, pointing at Tom. "If you do anythin' like that again, I'll get an an Angel to sort you both out!"
They nodded as he left. Cal had no idea what he had just done. Tom ordered him to take the rucksack and clothes to his bedroom. When he was gone, he placed gentle fingers to Ezra's forearm. "It's okay, we can talk about this later."
But later came like the sunrise on the longest night of the year. Tom paced his room until his hands were bored of fidgeting and his mind was fed up with circling around and around about what he was going to say.
He glanced to the rucksack in the corner of his room, knowing it was Ezra's and still doubting the fact that it was his at all. He didn't want to believe that after all this time, he had nowhere to stay.
He hid in his room as his sister and her extended family filter back into his home. He faced the full moon, wishing Cal was with him, though he would be waiting by his phone for an explanation.
"Ezrakhell," Tom whispered, wondering if the demon would hear how frail his voice had become.
The demon appeared quicker than Tom's sharp breath. His chest pressed against Tom as he turned to make eye contact. "I thought you said you were staying somewhere warm."
"I didn't."
"Ezra-"
"I stay where I can."
"So, you thought that camping in farmer Joel's field would just have to do?"
Ezra didn't reply.
"Please tell me what's going on."
Ezra sat on his desk chair in front of drawn up curtains. "Where do you expect a demon to go? Nowhere offers a place for us, especially not soul strippers. Before I even open my mouth, they look at my neck and make their choice."
"You've been staying with me for a while. You could have told me you were sleeping rough."
"Could I?"
"Yes."
"And then what? Would you have took pity on me?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I would have offered you a place to stay."
"On your bedroom floor?"
"Yes."
"How is that different to a barn floor?"
Tom was annoyed. "You know I care about you a lot, and I'd have you staying here every night if I could, on a bed where it's warm and dry. If you were okay with staying on a barn floor, then fine, but you could have told me. I wouldn't have judged you for it."
"Surely, you'd know that a demon wouldn't be staying somewhere nice . . . or warm. We don't have that luxury."
Ezra stood up, looming over him with a frown, but Tom shook his head angrily and forced himself not to be intimidated. "You're my friend Ezra. We help each other."
"We don't burden each other with our problems."
"Problems are not a burden, they're something to overcome. Friends can sometimes help, and if we can't, we can be there for each other until its over. You are not, and never will be a burden to me!"
Ezra's lips curled downwards sadly, and he glanced to the floor. "I don't know how to do this."
Tom crossed his arms. "I know it's hard, especially for people like you who have been independent for so long. And I know you're probably scared to be vulnerable because the last thing you want is for someone to think you need help. But Ezra-" Tom sighed. "You are the strongest person I've ever met. I mean . . . you have to be to put up with all the shit you get. Just thinking about you having to stay in a barn because nobody will let you stay anywhere else makes my blood boil. But you don't have to live like that, not when I'm here."
Ezra clenched and unclenched his hands, fighting an internal battle. "I appreciate everything you've done for me so far. I really do, but it scares me. My feelings for you scare me."
Tom took his hands, squeezing them until Ezra could look at him again. "It's okay to be scared. I'm a little scared too." He smiled, and the lines on Ezra's forehead smoothed. Tom was about to pull away and make light of the satiation by asking if he could wash any of Ezra's clothes, but the demon stepped into him and crushed their bodies together in a strong embrace.
Tom breathed against him, surprised, and flustered by the hand on the back of his head and the arm around his waist. Ezra was hugging him, willingly, and lovingly as if he had longed to be close to him all his life. "I don't even know how to be a friend," Ezra whispered against his ear. "So how could I ever be anything more?"
Tom pressed his face against the side of his, closing his eyes to cherish the warmth of his cheek. "Time," Tom replied. "Give us time."