Dead Moon Chapel

twenty-six

"IT WORKED."

The first words either of them spoke since all they could say was each other's names. It was Jericho who said them, his large hand resting over his chest, no longer heaving with exhaustion.

Abel took longer to regain the use of his tongue. Several voices emerged after some time, when he figured out how to speak again. "It did."

Jericho pushed his hand through his hair. "I didn't expect you to do that."

"You've seen me do that before."

"Yes, but not for that long," Jericho told him. He sat up so he could see Abel better.

His golden thighs had not closed, nor had their shaking ceased. He looked less like a person and more like a mass of feathers and eyes-Abel knew this because he could see everything in the room all at once.

Abel sat up. His back pulsed with a dull ache, and he found himself impressed. Even in this state, Jericho managed to break him. "Do you think this would be enough to face them?"

"Easily," said Jericho. "You could do anything you want."

"Would I be strong enough to defy God, though?"

Jericho shifted his attention to his hands. "That I don't know. But we can cross that bridge when we come to it."

"If we come to it. That's assuming I don't die on the Dead Moon."

"Hey, don't talk like that," Jericho jumped to say, slipping a hand over Abel's cheek. All the feathers and eyes in the world couldn't take away his soft cheeks, it would appear. "We'll figure this out. If nothing else, we'll figure out how to stay together."

Abel knew nothing of what the future held. But if he could be sure of one thing, he wanted to be sure of Jericho. He wanted him to be okay.

He nodded. "Okay. I'll... try to think positive."

"Thank you."

Jericho leaned in, kissing the one place on Abel's forehead where there wasn't an eye, only feathers. "We should probably get out of here. I can't imagine getting locked in the Chapel will be to our advantage."

"Yeah... probably not."

Abel rose from the altar, swaying on his feet momentarily. Once he was settled, he grabbed his pants from the floor and slipped them on. He was still covered in sex, but he didn't bother to clean it up right now. He could do that at Jericho's place.

Jericho moved next to him, lacing an arm around his waist. "Are you ready to leave?"

He gave the chapel a final once-over. His vision was fading again, he couldn't see every molecule like he could when he was experiencing his peak. He was glad for it.

Wrapping his arms around Jericho, Abel buried his face in his chest and prepared for the world to bend. He waited, a few beats passed, and nothing happened. His feet did not shift, nor did his head spin. It wasn't because of immunity to the sensations, it was because they weren't going anywhere. Abel's many eyes opened and saw nothing different.

"Jericho? Are we going?"

"I'm trying," he said. "It's not working."

"Shit," Abel hissed. "Why not?"

"I don't know."

He took a deep breath. "We're going to have to get out of here somehow."

"If no one noticed we're here by now, they probably won't hear us when we leave," Jericho reasoned.

Abel threw his hands up. "Well, that's highly unlikely. They're probably looking for us as we speak. And there's no way we'll go unnoticed when we both look like this. Fuck, this was a terrible idea."