Things Not Subject To Gravity - Chapter 33: Chapter 33

Sybil was plainly aware that by giving in to his impulses he'd crossed the line. Through half-lidded eyes, he peeked at Set's face, buried in the curve of his neck. The young man had tried to conceal his confusion with sharp words, but his ragged breathing made it clear how ruffled he was.
Folding his arm, Sybil ran his fingers through the young man's hair, carefully. There was no way to break that kind of silence, not for the culprit.
Set scoffed, his body quivering, "Maybe you don't have a clear idea of what you just did."
Still on top of Sybil, legs straddling his hips, the young man tugged himself up, making eye contact. His were clouded. One hand left idly on Sybil's lap, he grabbed onto the older man's wrist. In a slow movement that didn't match his temper, Set pressed the Oracle's palm to his bare chest, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes. His skin was hot despite the cool air of the night, and his heartbeat thundered under Sybil's palm.
When his eyes flicked open again, he cocked his head to the side. "Did you think you could get away with that?"
Sybil blinked a couple of times. The dangerous line he'd crossed had nothing to do with his actions contradicting his words. Impermanence was one of the fundamental laws of Existence. All elements in the play of reality were bound to change, and coherence had never been a natural quality of living creatures. He certainly wasn't an exception, and he'd accepted that long before.
Set placed his hands on both sides of Sybil's head and adjusted his posture, slowly leaning in once again. Heat pooled in Sybil's lower abdomen.
"Tell me. Did you think you could?" Set glared, but his warm breath lapped at Sybil's mouth, filling the man's nostrils with the inviting aroma of the wine he'd drunk.
Half a smirk pulled at the Oracle's mouth. Odd enough, the line he'd crossed was the one between abnegation and desire. In fact, instead of a guilty conscience, he was experiencing an adrenaline rush. He wet his lips and nodded.
Set drew closer, a sinister gleam in his eyes. "How cocky. Just for that, you'd deserve to be fucked senseless."
For the first time in years, the Oracle held his breath and swallowed hard. Rediscovering the feeling of being trapped, even the instinct of running away, he marveled at the jagged beat of his heart, at the hardness of his breath—at their apparent contrast with the warm, liquid excitement that pooled in his lower half, making his muscles weak and willing to surrender. It was a delightfully unfamiliar condition.
In a moment of self-indulgence, he slipped his hand out of Set's grasp and traced delicate lines with his fingers. He snaked it around Set's neck, pulling him closer. Not bothering to conceal his physical condition, he slightly rocked his hips.
His eyelashes fluttered as he indulged in an intimate, low tone, his voice sounding far more seductive than usual. "Would you do me the honor?"
A breath away from his lips Set stalled, terror flashing in his eyes and a pink hue coloring his cheeks. Straightening up, he pulled out of the other's grasp and slapped himself. "What the hell was that? I almost forgot you're a dude. You, fuckin' pervert."
Sybil let his head fall back on the hard wood and chortled. "You always manage to surprise me."
"Surprise you? Me?" Set hid his exasperation behind his palm, his rough tone muffled. "You're the one who doesn't make sense."
Given the change of atmosphere, Sybil took a moment to focus on his own breath. His eyes closed, he gently ran his fingers from Set's knee up to his thigh. Unexpected words rolled off his tongue, "Yes, you. I'm genuinely amazed at the variety of colors you've been painting my life with, and in such a short time. Your presence is triggering in me a picturesque range of emotions I believed I was over with." He paused, pondering over a way to describe it. "You make me feel like a child on the roller-coaster."
The young man snorted and scrambled to his feet. "I ain't your fun ride, man," he mumbled as he turned his back on Sybil and stumbled to the terrace's railing.
The Oracle remained on the floor, allowing his inflamed heart—and loins—the time to cool down. His gaze embraced the nocturnal sky above them, a boundless magnificence that never failed to captivate him. His mind silenced, he basked in the bottomless serenity granted by his understanding that such a large infinity was one with their infinitely small existences.
"Faced with such a beauty, what doesn't make sense is to dwell in suffering," he noted.
"See? At the end of the day, you must be nuts," Set grumbled, resting his elbows on the banister. From his tone, it was clear that he hadn't calmed down a bit. "I just don't get it. You took me in—got me food, clothes, and cash I never asked for." His words slurred, his voice mellowed out a little. "You came after me like it was nothing. Holy shit, you just kis—" He cut himself short as if the topic had already become taboo. "But you want to send me off?" He bent over, his hands gripping the wooden edge of the banister. "Screw it, it really feels like I'm in one of your stupid books."
They remained silent for a while, only the ruffling of clothes—as Set attempted to climb the railing—and the distant buzzing of the city filled the space in between them.
A pleasant breeze swiped the terrace, carrying Sybil's quiet voice. "Would you rather not have met me?"
The Oracle sat up, curious of Set's reaction, but he was sucked in the sight of him even before the young man turned his head back.
Arms wide open, Set stood on the banister, balancing his weight like an aerialist. There was a fineness to his lean figure—as it stood against the twinkling night of New York city—that elevated it to the level of decorative art. His slender legs were carefully lined up and, for the effort of keeping balance, unsuspected muscles laced his bare back. His palms were open toward the stars as if welcoming them in his embrace.
"Of course not," he snapped.
Head tilted back and hair roughly pulled over his temples—revealing the blood seal that marked his forehead—he glanced at Sybil from over his shoulder. His sharp jawline and big, shady eyes were complemented by the charming pout on his full lips. Although Astaroth's aura had faded considerably, there was something romantic and decadent about him, enchanting and voluptuous. He was on par with the most beautiful of the demon's representations.
"Have you ever thought you could fly?" he asked absentmindedly.
At the question, uneasiness stirred in Sybil's stomach. He adjusted his posture, sitting on his heels. "I dreamt of it, and I guess at a certain level of evolution it might be possible, but not in this dimension—not yet," he replied firmly.
Turning his head away, Set glanced down. His body leaned toward the outside. "I've always been fascinated by the idea of jumping," he mused.
Sybil stood and approached him. Stretching out his hand to clasp the young man's wrist, he caught Set's gaze as well.
"I don't think it's a good idea." Eyes locked with Set's, he tried to divert the other's attention from the subject at hand. "Since you refused my offer, why don't you tell me what do you want?"
The young man huffed but didn't try to break free from Sybil's hold. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you contradicting yourself?"
Sybil raised his brows. "I don't consider it particularly relevant. Though I can tell you if it pleases you."
Eyes fixed on him, Set nodded.
"I believe my affection should be unconditional. It has to nurture and give freedom, certainly not lead to committing a crime. Rather than acting as my protector or choosing to compensate me in some way, I wish for you to attain whatever you want for yourself." He sighed, realizing he'd tightened his hold on the other. "The contradiction is—well, I caved in to the rise of a momentary selfishness."
Slipping out of Sybil's grasp, the young man took a deep breath and performed a little jump. His feet landed on the exact same spot, but he almost lost his balance. Arms swinging in the cool air, he bent on his knees.
Instinctively, Sybil clasped his wrist and dragged him off the railing. Both fell on the wooden flooring. After ruining over him, Set thoughtfully rolled to the side. There was no trace of surprise in his face as he gazed back at the Oracle.
He massaged his right elbow and cleared his voice. "You're talking crap. You know, right? A selfish prick wouldn't care if I threw myself down. Or are you saying that I should have the freedom to do so?"
How naïve one had to be to believe it was a selfless act? Sybil rolled his eyes, but his shoulders relaxed. With his simplistic view of the world, Set was the most honest person Sybil had ever met, as well as the most gullible. His devotion was as dangerous as a sharp knife heedlessly thrown in the air. Sybil finally resolved to get to the point that bothered him the most.
"Do you seriously intent on killing Green?"
"I do."
Sybil turned on his side, shifting his weight to his left elbow. He rested his chin on his palm, and took on a somber expression and tone. "That man is an inquisitor, not a killer. He works for the religious organization I stole the ring from. John is their leader, and given the value of the relic, I can assure you that he has been very understanding." He paused, letting the information sink in. "In the morning, I had a meeting with them and we made a deal. Saturday they will come to get the ring back."
Set remained silent, gazing at the dark sky for a while. When he turned his head, his eyes sparkled in amusement. "But you don't want to give it back, right?"
The Oracle sighed before conceding. "Right. I don't have the slightest intention to. Still, I'm the one at fault. Don't you think it's wrong to kill an innocent man to protect a liar and a thief?"
"Innocent? Don't make me laugh. That demon is anything but that," Set replied, sitting up. "I'm not willing to take chances."
With a swift movement, he pulled the ring out of his pocket and dropped it on the floor in between them. His hand drifted up to cover the man's eyes.
"You should keep it." His lips brushed against Sybil's, and his voice softened, lowering into a whisper. "I don't need it as long as I have you."
As soon as he pulled back, he stood up and walked off to the terrace door. Sybil barely had the time to make sense of his words and was cut off before he could say anything.
"Only a madman would give something so precious to a hobo." Obviously unwilling to wait for a reply, Set disappeared inside.
A strange feeling of discouragement in his heart, Sybil slid the ring on his finger and got to his feet. Inhaling the cool air, trying to focus on its movement through his nostrils, he picked up the empty bottle and walked inside. Once in the kitchen, he placed the glass into its proper garbage bin. As he washed his hands, he couldn't refrain from pondering over Set's behavior as well as his own. He lost focus of his breath and got sucked into his mind's inner monologue. It was already too late when he realized he'd forgotten he was wearing the ring.
In response to his thoughts, a multitude of visions stormed in—a chaotic display of all the worst possible endings their relation might have--and shook him up to the point he bent over and grabbed the metal edge of the sink to prop himself up. Detecting Set's presence behind him, he took a deep breath and tried to get back to his senses, but his mind, heart, and body were overwhelmed and it took all his concentration just to keep standing.
Set's voice reached his ears. It sounded hesitant, still holding onto an unusual softness. "Listen—do you really want me to?"
To keep the ring's power under control, Sybil couldn't afford to muse about those words. Another whirlwind of visions could be a serious threat to his emotional and mental stability. He focused on his physical condition, letting the psychic energy flow down through his legs, and observing their slight tremor.
"What... do you mean?" he forced the question out.
For a while, Set paced nervously behind him. The rhythmical sound of his steps filled the silent room, allowing Sybil to concentrate on it, and keep his own thoughts at bay.
Eventually, the patter stopped and Set's voice cut through the moment of silence. "Do you want me to have sex with you?"
There he was, pulling another unpredictable rabbit out of his hat, effortlessly throwing Sybil into the zone, beyond all thoughts. The Oracle's mind crystallized. His muscles gave in and he fell to his knees. As tension was released from his body, a pleasant thrill bubbled up in his belly and expanded to his chest. He dissolved into laughter, earning himself a scowl from the other, who had ran to check on him.
"What if I do?" he managed to ask, breathlessly, drying the tears at the side of his eye with his fingers.
From behind, Set hoovered over him. "Don't give me that shit. I want a clear answer."
"Are you actually thinking about doing it?" Sybil couldn't conceal his surprise.
Furrowed brows, clenched fists, yet apprehension in his eyes, Set declared, "I've done worse."
The Oracle adjusted his posture in order to face the other, not daring to stand yet. As he peeked up his eyelashes fluttered a couple of times before he found the words, "Is that your way of saying that you would like to?"
Set averted his gaze, his cheeks flushed but he offered his hand. "No point talking about it when you can't even stand by yourself. I just want to eat." It was a pitiable attempt to change the subject—yet, not denying.
Sybil beamed and grabbed his hand. As soon as he was back to his feet, Set let go and distanced himself. Feigning ignorance, the Oracle smoothed his robe and ran his hands through his hair, pulling them back behind his shoulders.
"I appreciate the thought—I mean, you sacrificing yourself for my amusement and all—but I'd rather have you doing something good for yourself. Actually, it would be better if you stop indulging me at all." He leaned his back on the hem of the sink and his gaze trailed over the other's chest—taking in the bloodstains left there after the ritual—before getting to his eyes. "So, shall we order dinner?"
Glancing sideways at him, Set nodded.
As Sybil took the few steps separating them, the young man didn't budge—he looked down at his own feet and thrust his hands into his pockets. Unfortunately for him, the rosy hue lingering on his cheeks gave him away.
The Oracle leaned in, switching to a more intimate tone. "Since you've shown me such a lovely side of yourself, I'll answer your question. Do I want you to have sex with me?" He lifted his left hand, bringing the ring in Set's line of view. "No--because if I did, you'd be forced to comply."
His index finger reached Set's cheek and slid along his jaw. It tumbled down his neck to his chest, indulging over his heart before falling further down.
Set shivered and recoiled. "The next time, instead of being nice, I'll punch you." He menaced, but in place of raising his fists, he stomped out of the room.
Sybil couldn't help tittering. "It's really hard to take that seriously."
Left alone, he finished tidying up the kitchen and headed to the living room, where he locked the ring into a small wooden box that rested beside the phone. Considering how strong its influence had become, it was wiser to keep it tucked away as long as it wasn't necessary. Mindlessly shuffling through the papers and cards Maria had left around—as backups for when she was sick—Sybil plucked the home-delivery menu of a nearby Italian restaurant and dialed the number.
The voice on the other end sounded friendly and relaxed, and the man waited patiently while Sybil ran his fingers down the list. It happened three times before the easiest option was selected. What was the point of hesitating? Set wouldn't mind the choice as long as some food was served.
As soon as he hung up, the sound of approaching steps surprised him again, but before he could turn around, Set's arms were tightly wrapped around him.
"I'm not going to put up with this shit any longer." The young man's lips brushed against Sybil's neck, and his threatening voice turned out to be oddly seductive. "You have to pick one—take it all or leave it all." His teeth sunk in the sensitive skin.
Despite the pain, the only thing that came out of Sybil's mouth was a soft groan. Knowing Set, if he tried to argue or break free, he'd pour oil on the fire. Ignoring his provocation was the best way to get through it smoothly. The Oracle drew a deep breath and focused on it, keeping his body relaxed.
Proving his theory right, Set let go of him. His sleeves rolled up, his soggy hair pulled back, droplets of water ran down his neck. He fished a crumpled cigarette out of his trousers' pocket and lit it up. His forehead was clean, proving he'd just came back from showering. He wore a simple black t-shirt—probably the first thing he'd fished out of his wardrobe. The smoke he directed through the open door was sucked back in by a gust of wind and hung around his head, making his eyes narrow.
"Even if you got the demon locked up, it's still there. I can feel it."
Gently rubbing the sore spot where he was bitten, Sybil moved to the sofa. He grabbed the novel he'd left on the low table and sat.
His fingers idly ruffling through the pages, he spoke in a quiet, confident tone, "You shouldn't worry about Astaroth. In fact, he's easier to deal with than you. Whether he takes over or not, he's forced to obey me. That's why you should be more concerned about your personal freedom rather than my safety." His eyes landed on the book, though not focusing on the printed words.
"Forced to obey you, you say, and what if you die? Wouldn't that be for naught then?"
Sybil stared at him in silence, but the young man turned his back on him and eventually, walked outside. The Oracle drove his concentration into reading a story he was no longer interested in until the doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of their food. He quickly dealt with the delivery boy and carried the pizza boxes inside. Only after the table was set up, featuring some coke along with the usual wine, he called the other.
Set gobbled down the food, giving the impression they were back to their peaceful routine, if not for the way he kept his gaze lowered. He went for the soft drink and wisely ignored the wine. When he finished his meal, his eyes trailed up to the Oracle's but immediately darted away.
His growing attachment was a mystery to Sybil. Taking a sip of wine, he couldn't help wondering about it. The sweet aroma filled his nostrils, reminding him of the kiss they'd shared. He blinked away the thought, but in that split second behind his closed eyelids, he saw Set shooting a gun.
Given how much he'd tampered with the flow of events, his visions couldn't be considered accurate anymore. Nevertheless, being able to see a certain future—without the power of the ring—meant that the necessary conditions for that possibility to materialize had been met. Unsure to what those conditions were, Sybil could no longer afford the luxury of being patient. Leaning in, elbows on the table and chin resting on the back of his entwined hands, he took his guess.
"How did you get the gun?" he asked point-blank.
Eyes still cast to his side, Set clicked his tongue. His face was an open book, giving away his intentions. His shoulders stiffened but quickly relaxed as he let out a breath. "Maria," he muttered, resolving to speak the truth.
"Look at me." Sybil kept his stance, waiting for the young man to comply. When their eyes met, he put on a smile and spoke in the most reassuring way he could muster, "I'll say it again—there's no need to return my kindness."
Set furrowed his brows, shifting uncomfortably on the chair.
"You are not required to act as my bodyguard, nor as my lover." Sybil kept a gentle, yet authoritative tone. "I have no family and my money was just rotting away, that's why I took you in. It was nothing but the whim of a moment."
"Bullshit. You didn't pick a random guy off the street. You picked the one you thought was going to kill you because you wanted to make sure it wouldn't happen. Don't play naïve with me. I ain't buying it."
The young man's scowl drew a huff out of Sybil's mouth. He leaned his back on the chair and crossed his arms, his expression stern. "Alright then. If you want to do something for me, leave—and take the ring with you."
Set's eyes widened before he let out a bitter laughter. "So, that was it. You only care about that fucking ring."
"It might not seem like it, but I'm doing what's in your best interest as well. I already asked Linda to open a bank account in your name, and—"
Set stood, his palms pressed on the table as he bent in, eyes narrowed. "You jerk—you planned this all along—being all nice just to get me to do what you want." Despite the anger hardening his words, there was a shade of sadness in his eyes. "You said you can force me, didn't you? Then do it."
Sybil held his gaze. "You'd let me control your life?"
"Does it make any difference?" Straightening up, the young man shrugged.
"I'd prefer if you agreed to it."
"Ha. Want to wipe your slate clean, right? How nice, being the good guy who helped me out and gave me a new life, while accidentally getting what he wanted. Well, you don't deserve that. Giving me no choice isn't any different from taking my freedom—and if you want to do that, you ought to pay the price for it. Be selfish all the way and take the blame." Set waved his hand, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "I'll do what I want. I don't give a fuck about what you think, so there's no need to play nice. If you want to stop me, try whatever you can."
"Set..." Sybil got to his feet and stretched out his hand to touch him.
"Stop right there, or I'll punch you."
Dropping his arm back to his side, Sybil gave him a troubled look. "Please, try to understand. It's because I saw what might—"
"I already told you I don't care." Exasperated, Set took a couple of steps away.
"If I request something of Astaroth, you'd be forced to comply, but... there's a chance this specific command might be nullified." He let out a heavy exhale. "If you were to come back at that time, it might lead to causalities and even greater dangers... I cannot afford to take the risk. You and the ring have to be elsewhere." He closed his eyes, bowing his head. His unbridled hair slithered down his shoulders to his chest where his palm rested. He pressed his palm over his heart. "I'll be honest, Set. Please, I need you to do this for me."
"And what if you die!" Set snarled, baring his canines.
Sybil straightened up. "Last week, I asked Linda to get you a fake ID. It'll be ready tomorrow. At four, a car will pick you up and drive you to the airport. Please, take the ring and go." Throwing Set one last glance, he smoothed his locks back and walked past him.
"Force me," Set barked back.