Miracle - Chapter 33: Chapter 33

When I got out of bed Sunday morning, Ezra was already up and clicking away on his computer. He hadn't folded the sofa bed back up yet, and there was a rumpled blanket piled on it, so he must have slept at least a little. I went into the kitchen, still in my sweatpants and sleep shirt, and pulled my hair into a topknot to keep it out of my face.
"How do you like your eggs?" I asked as I got the frying pan out from the cabinet.
"Huh? Oh. Well... they're best if they haven't been frozen."
What?
"But they spoil fast. Ideally we like to work with a batch within a few hours of retrieval, if we're looking for the clearest results."
Oh my god, he was talking about work. I set the pan down on the stove, trying to hold back laughter. "That's not what I meant. I was thinking more like, scrambled? Over-easy?"
"Huh? Why would I want to—"
I held up an egg from the carton we'd bought yesterday, and pointed to it. "You know. Breakfast?"
"Oh."
I grinned at him, and he got the cutest sheepish look on his face. I think he was just noticing me for the first time too, because his attention went up to my messy bun, then the front of my wrinkled v-neck t-shirt that was hanging loosely around my neck, all stretched out from sleep. I tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear self-consciously. I probably looked like a total slob.
He turned back to his computer. "Just make them the way you like, I'll eat them."
So I fried our eggs sunny side up, and made bacon, toast, and coffee too. The leftover pineapple from last night became a side dish. Ezra was so absorbed in his work that when the food was ready I brought it over to his desk. He rolled his chair back as I set everything down.
"There you go." Remembering my resolution to give him space, I took a seat at the breakfast bar to eat my own food.  When we were done and I'd gotten the kitchen cleaned up, I had to change into real clothes and pack my containers of pee into a couple grocery sacks. Ezra hadn't seen any problem with storing my piss in the refrigerator overnight. I got the impression he frequently kept his science projects in there, nice and cozy alongside his groceries.
Which was why, as soon as we got back, I would be giving the whole inside of his fridge a good scrub down.
Holding the bags while riding on the back of his bike was super awkward, but we managed to get to his work without too much sloshing. He took the bags from me and carried them the whole way up the elevator, though this time we stopped at the lower floor where Dr. Sarias had done his examination of me yesterday.
The building was pretty quiet. It didn't seem like many folks wanted to work on a Sunday. Ezra went to an industrial refrigerator inside one of the clinic offices and started unloading the containers of urine into it. He handled them as if they were a perfectly unremarkable part of his routine.
On the way out, though, a picture on one of the desks caught my eye, and I paused. "Is that... Is that Dr. Sarias' family?"
Ezra turned around to see what I was looking at, and nodded. "That's his Bride and their daughters."
The woman in the picture looked about ten years older than Dr. Sarias. There were three girls posing with them, all black-haired and pale-skinned. But the oldest one had a familiar streak of blue in her ponytails. I picked the picture frame up to look closer.
"That's Grace," I said in wonder. So Dr. Sarias was her father? He was the person she was so afraid of disappointing?
"You know her?"
"Yeah, she's one of Maddy's dorm mates."
"I see."
Alarm had flared in my chest. Shit. How was I going to talk to Ezra about helping Grace now? I'd almost forgotten, with everything that had happened yesterday, but I guess it was a good thing I hadn't said anything to him yet. Did she know her dad was friends with Ezra? I couldn't ask him to help her without explaining what was going on. What if he decided to tell her father? She'd probably think I stabbed her in the back, and hate me forever.
Eljo don't have friends.
But we were damn good at making enemies. Crap, I was going to have to think about this. I set the picture down, and looked up to find Ezra watching me. His face had gone kind of cold and uncomfortable.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
"No, it's fine. We can go."
When we got back out to the parking lot, and I climbed up behind him on his bike, he edged away from me again. This time I was sure I wasn't imagining things. He definitely shifted his ass forward on the seat, so that my body wasn't making contact with him.
I held on to his hips as we headed back to the apartment. And I noticed he was keeping an arm's length from me when we went up the elevator in his building. He shied away a little when he held the door open for me to enter. It was like he was going out of his way not to touch me. Why? He could handle plastic cups of my pee, no big deal, but flinched at the possibility I'd brush against him?
As the day went on, I became more and more certain I wasn't reading this wrong. He was avoiding me. He didn't say anything when I went into the kitchen and started emptying the refrigerator shelves so I could clean it out, but he took his chemistry apparatus and moved it to the coffee table. When I stepped into the living room to wipe the smears of egg yolk and bacon grease from the top of his desk, he had a sudden need to use the bathroom.
And when I passed by him in the hall, he flattened himself against the wall to avoid running into me. Which, for a guy as big as he was, would probably have been funny... if it didn't worry me so much.
He went right back to messing with his new batch of blocker formula out in the living room. I sighed, half in frustration and half in fear. Had I offended him somehow? What the hell was going on?
I went into my room and sniffed my underarms, just to check that I wasn't walking around with B.O. he was too polite to tell me about. I crawled up into bed and tried to read, but couldn't concentrate. I kept staring at the door. Was I in trouble? Was he sick of having me around already?
What was I going to do, if he decided I was too much of a bother? There was literally no place else I could go. I might as well go turn myself in to the Justice Center and climb into their execution tank myself, if it came to that. Unless I wanted to ask if Elioud Biogenesis had a cage I could sleep in.
No. No, now I was being ridiculous. Ezra wouldn't kick me out. He was probably just overwhelmed by having a permanent house guest in this small apartment. He needed some personal space, that was all.
Right?
I waited it out the rest of the day in my room. I read, worked on a couple pieces of schoolwork, binge-watched eight episodes of a new anime I'd been wanting to see. But eventually it was dark outside. I'd managed to skip lunch, but couldn't ignore the growling of my stomach any longer. I slipped out of the bedroom and went down the hall.
Ezra was at his computer, with his back to me, making application windows dance around his monitor. I took a deep breath. "Ezra?"
"Hey, Connor. You need something?"
He sounded distracted, but not angry. I stepped a little farther out. "I was going to make some food, if it's okay with you."
"Sure." He was still absorbed in the screen.
I edged my way into the kitchen, keeping an eye on him. His futuristic monitor was casting a greenish glow over his features. He had a five o'clock shadow going again, which he didn't seem to notice. The room was dark, since he'd neglected to turn on the lights when the sun went down. Behind him on the coffee table, the Bunsen burner was keeping his flask of pink liquid bubbling very gently, faintly rattling the glass.
I decided it was not a good night for an elaborate meal, and made spaghetti with some of the ground beef we'd brought home, and a jar of pre-made marinara. I could make the sauce a lot better myself, but it needed several hours to simmer properly. This would have to do. I buttered half a loaf of bread and sprinkled it with garlic salt, then put it in the oven to broil.
When dinner was ready, I made two plates. With the way Ezra was ignoring me, I wasn't about to ask if he'd come eat at the bar. I carried his plate to his desk and set it in front of him. He slid his chair sideways without looking at me.
God, I couldn't take this. I took a step back and licked my lips, trying to figure out how to ask what was going on.
"Was there something else?" he said, moving another diagram around on his monitor with a fingertip.
"I... I was just wondering, if..."
"Hm?"
"Ezra, are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?" I was trying to keep my voice steady as the question came out, but I was nervous enough that it cracked over the last word.
He dropped his hand then, and turned to me. "What? No, of course not."
"Well, it's just that... lately, you've been... I don't know. It feels like you're avoiding me."
His jaw clenched, and his eyes went back to the screen. "I have a lot of work."
"Yeah, but..." I took a step toward him, and sure enough, he rolled his chair back. "See? It's like you don't even want me in the same room with you. If I did something to piss you off I wish you'd just say so. I'm new here, you know. I don't know all the rules, but if you'll just tell me what I'm doing wrong..."
A weary look crossed his face. "Ah, hell. I'm sorry, Connor. It's not that."
"You sure?" I took another step forward, and there he went scooting backward again. I raised a pointed eyebrow.
"Look, it's just... Connor, you're Eljo."
My shoulders slumped. That was why? Then Grace had been right all along, hadn't she? "Oh. I get it. Eljo don't have friends, right?"
He fixed me with a sharp, sad look. "I am your friend, Connor. But I'm also Nephilim." A flush had crept across his cheeks, and he looked away. Not back at his screen, but down at the plate I'd placed in front of him. His hand came up to rub at the grizzle around his mouth, and suddenly, like an electric jolt to my brain, I understood.
Oh my God.
Oh my fucking God.
My mouth went completely dry, and my heart started pounding so hard in my ears that it drowned out the rattling glass of his brewing equipment. "Ezra, y—you...  You're attracted to me?"
His black eyes flicked over to me shyly. Oh my GOD. My stomach dipped and twisted with shock. Of course. Why hadn't I realized it? I was genetically tailored to be appealing to his kind. The Swan had said Nephilim were affected by us too, and were just better at controlling it. But yesterday in the lab, every man in there had been eyeing me like a piece of candy.
As a guy, I knew what it felt like to be surrounded by Eljo pheromones you couldn't escape from. I'd only been with the Swan a couple weeks and it had nearly driven me out of my mind. There was a reason Elioud students were kept on the Brides of Heaven campus, with limited exposure to the Nephilim community. Ezra had pulled strings so that I could spend my days there too, because of the effect I might have on the men in his apartment complex.
But here I was living under Ezra's nose day after day, in much closer quarters than the Swan's huge mansion. I was sleeping in his bedroom. Showering in his bathroom. Cooking in his kitchen, and all the while crushing on him like nobody's business. No wonder he kept sending me to my room, and doing his best to pretend I wasn't here. My pheromones had to be constant temptation for him, yet he'd never said a word.
Ezra turned his chair sideways, like he didn't want me looking at him while he answered. "It's just biology," he offered softly, as if he hoped I wouldn't take offense. "But you don't have to be afraid."
Afraid? Was he fucking kidding?
"I would never hurt you."
Jesus Christ, that was the very last thing I was worried about. I grabbed the arm of his chair, turned him back toward me. He met my eyes, shame tensing his usually stoic features, and I couldn't help myself.
I lunged until our lips connected.
He should have said something sooner. Of all the people in the world, he was the one I desired most. And now he'd just admitted, in his own minimal-words way, that he wanted me too? He could have me. He could have everything.
He gasped against my mouth, and completely froze up. I gripped the front of his shirt to keep him close, and felt his heart hammering the side of my fist.
And then, his lips softened against mine. Moved. He nipped at me the tiniest bit, so that a surge of exultation and desire swept up my spine.
A moment later, though, his hands found my shoulders and shoved me back. He was staring at me with wide eyes, and he almost looked frightened. "Connor, this isn't a game."
"I'm not playing," I responded, reaching out to touch his face. His eyes fluttered closed as I caressed his cheek, and thrilled at the feel of his velvety stubble rubbing my palm. I've only been in love with you since I was, like, five. So if you like me too, then...
He inhaled sharply, through his nose, and grabbed my wrist. His eyes were still shut, like he didn't dare look at me. "I can't."
"Why?"
"I have to protect you. I'm the only one who's going to."
"You are protecting me." I wasn't going to let him brush me off, not if he was feeling this too.
I climbed into his lap, slid my knees on either side of his hips so that I was straddling his thighs. He was still holding my wrist, his eyelids clamping tighter as I leaned into him, so I used my other hand to stroke his hair, the textured curls cut so close to his skin. "You've always protected me. But where does it say you can't love me too?"
Those black eyes opened, so fierce with emotion that I couldn't breathe. "Love is different for Nephilim," he said, and his voice was hoarse like there was too much air in his lungs. "We fall in love after we marry, not before. Until then, everything we feel is just..." He was staring with longing at my mouth, and I obligingly moved closer.
"Chemistry," he whispered, sending a shiver up my spine.
"I'm good with that." I moved to touch our lips together again.
But he pushed me back. "Connor. I'm fifty-five years old."
"I know."
"You're fifteen. You're just a kid."
"Funny. I thought the word you guys use is 'ripe.'" I skimmed his lips with mine, and backed off before he could push me away again. I was winning, I could tell. He was breathing hard, and could barely keep his eyes open to look at me. I stroked his hair again, and ran my finger along the strong line of his jaw. "Physically, you're only eighteen. Your birthday is November eighth, I read it on your desk calendar. I can do the math. In four years, six months, two weeks, and... let's see... three days, you and I will be the same age."
He blinked at me hazily, and I let my weight settle a little more into his lap. He'd loosened his hold on my wrist, so I took his face in both hands and made sure my breath passed over his lips. We were so close, and I was so freaking turned on. He had to be drowning in my pheromones right now. "And every day after that, I'll be older than you."
"You'll never be older," he murmured.
"Physiologically I will. Will our age gap be a problem for you then? Are you gonna think I'm too old, won't like me anymore?"
"That's not how it works."
"Then show me. How does it work?" I brushed our lips together again.
He moaned. Like, actually, honest to God moaned. His hands moved to my hips and pulled me forward, and holy shit, it took me a second to realize that the firm thing pressing into me down there was him.
Fire exploded in my stomach. Flooded my system with heat and pressure and lust. He wanted me. I didn't even care if it was just chemical like he said, he wanted me.
I kissed him, hard this time, and probably too clumsily. It's not like I'd had a lot of practice, the one time Pete and I had kissed it had been a delicate press of lips. But Ezra made me feel so hungry, something that tame was nowhere near enough. I sucked his soft lower lip into my mouth and traced it with my tongue.
I might have been inexperienced, but he sure knew what he was doing. In a split second his tongue had come out to meet mine and we were tangled together, me in his mouth, him in mine, back and forth like a hot, sexy, slippery dance that was melting my bones and burning up my brain. His arms moved to clutch me up against him. I could feel his big hands splayed possessively across my shoulder blades and lower back, and yet he managed to carefully avoid the last of the bandaged spots.
How was it possible to feel so much at once? I couldn't get enough oxygen into my lungs. We were gasping cool shots of air between our overheated mouths every time our lips shifted. My head was buzzing, and my pulse had gone crazy. My watch was going to short-circuit with alarms... in fact, I could hear his phone beeping from the desk behind us, in time with the watch's frenzied vibrations.
Ezra's lips left mine to travel down my neck. Kissing, sucking, licking me, until every inch of my body was on fire and I was rocking against him shamelessly. His tongue was smooth and firm, leaving wet trails across my skin. He got to the collar of my t-shirt and then one of his hands was sliding up my stomach, pulling the fabric aside, giving him access to my collarbone.
My eyes rolled back. Somehow he knew where my most sensitive spots were. "Oh. Oh, God, Ezra..."
He stopped kissing me. Gave a great, shuddering breath against my throat. His chest was heaving. "Fuck, I can't do this."
"I want you to," I panted, rubbing myself against his very prominent erection some more. "It's okay."
He buried his hands in my hair, pulled my head down to his shoulder. Wrapped his arms around me and squeezed so hard I could feel his muscles trembling. His lips pressed the side of my face, my hairline, my ear, in a series of frantic kisses. But he was holding me still so that I couldn't keep grinding into him. His breath puffed onto the top of my head.
"We have to stop."
"Ezra. Please." I tipped my head back and kissed the hot skin of his neck, which was throbbing with a pulse just as fast and hard as mine.
He gave a deep groan and shifted me away. "We're not doing this. It's not right."
I was pretty sure nothing had ever been so right. But he pressed me back, off of him, until I had no choice but to put my feet down or I'd end up on my ass on the floor. He waited until I was stable on my feet and then rolled his chair back, severing our connection.
"Go to your room, Connor."
"No."
"Go. Or else I'm leaving. I can't be around you right now."
"Why? What's wrong with it, if we both want each other?"
"I can't marry you. You're Eljo. Only fertile to humans."
"I'm gay! I won't be 'fertile' for anyone I like. I want you."
"I'm not going to do this to you. You deserve someone who can love you, Connor. You deserve a normal life, and by God, that's what I'm going to give you. I'm going to find a cure for your condition. You're going to go back to the human world. Fall in love, get an eight to five job with medical insurance and a retirement account, grow old with somebody your own age."
"I don't care about any of that stuff," I said, reaching for him. He backed up again, stood up and grabbed his black hoodie off the chair.
"I'm going to the lab."
"Please don't run away!" Crap, crap, I was getting awfully close to tears.
"I'm sorry, Connor." He didn't look at me, but his shoulders were suddenly bent like he was carrying the weight of an entire planet on them. "This is my fault. I know that. And I'm going to fix it, I promise."
"Ezra..."
He strode past me, pulling the apartment door open so hard it banged into the wall. Then he was gone.