The Cupid Touch Chapter 19 - If at first...

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With the Moritz boys gone, I spent a while wandering around the small apartment, enjoying things just because they were Joe-Moe's. I looked through a stack of CDs in the living-room, both new and old, and liked the fact that he still bought them. All my music is downloads these days, and I often think what a shame it is that I have none of the boxes and album-artwork I used to enjoy.

In the hall, I was reminded of the takeout by the really hunger-inducing smells, and went to find somewhere to keep it all warm. The kitchen had a tiny oven in one corner, so I shoved the food in there and switched it to a low heat. It was pretty big of me not to start eating without him, I thought. 

It was difficult to stop thinking about a slightly confused combination of a plateful of food and Joe-Moe's chest. A distraction was needed. 

I had the perfect one within an instant of sitting at the kitchen table. It was the perfect time to practise controlling the matchmaking. I'd seen Axel again, and had gotten to like him a little bit more.

"OK," I said to myself out loud. "So you need to feel it happening, and then stop it. Without stopping yourself from liking the guy."

I knew exactly how to make it start happening. I had to really, really want for him to be happy. I thought about Axel's white face when we'd walked in, and how awful Lucas was. I thought about how he'd been an easily-led kid, and they'd taken advantage of him. I thought about his enthusiasm, his beauty, and his sensitivity. And then I thought about how much happier he'd be if he had someone else. 

It was frightening how quickly I started to feel it. It was a lot quicker and stronger than it had been in that cafe, which was the only time in the past few years I'd done it on purpose. Usually I spent all my time not thinking about how great people were. 

I couldn't see Axel, but I might as well have been able to. I was totally aware of where he was, some half-a-mile distant and walking. The other half of the weird magnetism was further away, across the city, but drawing closer all the time. 

"Shit," I said, feeling it growing out of my control. "Stop it. You can do it. Stop it. Stop it." 

But it didn't stop. It just kept building, and I knew it was going to keep on going until the two of them met. 

"Come on," I said, thinking momentarily of Joe-Moe and how much I wanted to make this work.

It only intensified further. I knew it was getting close to the point of being irreversible, and there was only one thing I could do to stop it. 

I squeezed my eyes closed, tightly, and remembered Axel's immaturity; his protests about having told Lucas he wouldn't carry drugs for him. I remembered that what he'd carried had had the potential to harm a lot of people. I remembered that he was weak, and that his weakness hurt Joe-Moe. He'd had to change his college just for his brother, and his brother was still making his life hard. 

The feeling of magnetism began to fade. I held onto the irritation, and in my mind put a sort-of halo of mild annoyance around Axel and everything about him. Pulse by pulse, it dwindled, until I lost any awareness of Joe-Moe's brother or the person I'd nearly matched him up with. 

I slumped onto the table, feeling exhausted and dejected. My arms and legs were shaking, and I knew part of it was fear for the future. I couldn't control it any more than I could control how I felt about Joe-Moe, and I knew how much it was going to tear me apart losing him. 

I was still there when Joe-Moe let himself back in a little while later. He seemed buoyed-up, and excited, and it made me feel worse. I was going to have to tell him the truth.

"You tried making Axel fall in love with someone, didn't you?" he asked, his eyes alive with enthusiasm. "I could feel it. It's... it's the weirdest thing. I could feel him, and someone else being drawn to him. And he kind-of zoned out, but when I asked if he could feel anything weird, he looked at me like I was crazy." He laughed, and I tried to smile back at him. "And then you stopped it, didn't you? It started to fade. And then it was just gone. You managed to control it."

I shook my head at him, and folded my arms across my chest to try and stop the shaking. "I didn't. I just - I had to tell myself I didn't like him. Which is the only way I've ever stopped it. And I can't do that when I get close to someone. Eventually, I have to stop lying to myself."

I saw the slight disappointment in his expression, but it was quickly replaced with nothing more than concern. 

"Hey," he said, coming towards me and kneeling next to me so he could put his arms around me. "Don't be sad. It's the first time you've tried it this way. Give yourself a break and try again later. There's no rush."

I loved the feeling of his arms around me, but I could feel the danger in liking it too much. The sensation of that magnetic draw was too close, and I was already tired from trying to control it.

"Yes there is," I said, and then I grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head around until I could kiss him, fiercely.

Joe-Moe was obviously startled, but then he responded, shifting so that I could move my legs and get them around him. I was angry with him, and I hung onto it. I knew I had to. 

I gave him a shove, and he toppled backwards onto one arm, with a slight laugh. He pulled at my arm and I lost my balance and crashed down on top of him. My knee hit the floor painfully, and I drew back sharply. I grabbed his hair again.

"Don't - fucking - hurt me," I said, and then locked my mouth on his again.



It was ferocious, that love-making. Fierce, and physical - the kind that leaves you with bruises and scrapes you don't remember getting. Joe-Moe responded to my anger with a fierceness of his own, but where mine was directed at controlling and almost hurting, his was directed at giving in to me. He let me tear at his shirt and his pants, and threw his head back and leaned on his shoulders as I rode him hard and then joined my mouth with his, or bit his ear or his neck. 

It was crazy and rage-filled and utterly fantastic. It left us both panting, and slick with sweat. We lay on the floor there, briefly, before Joe-Moe wound his arms around me and asked if I'd like to move to the bed.

"OK," I said, the anger abating now. "But only if we can take the food with us."

For the record, it's impossible to eat Thai in bed without getting a lot of it on the sheets. But it's also one of life's best things to do, and I was willing to ignore the satay sauce I ended up lying in as I curled against Joe-Moe's chest. 

I was tired enough to keep any soppy thoughts away now the anger was gone. I felt that same calm I'd had after we first made love, and I was quite happy just to lie there while he stroked my hair.

"It's going to be ok, you know," he said. 

"Is it?"

"Yeah," he said. "I've decided."

I smiled at him. "Who put you in charge?"

He laughed. "I figured it was my turn."

I don't remember falling asleep there, but I remember never, ever wanting to move again. 

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