#stonebees

I made a habit of practicing my newfound talent while I was in the bathroom. I could still listen to Juno’s thoughts from the other side of the closed door, but he couldn’t hear my little grunts of pain or see the blood seeping from my eye when I pushed myself too hard. Afterward it was a simple matter of wiping away the blood with bathroom tissue, flushing the evidence, and applying some eye drops and aspirin after I finished washing up. 

The headaches were getting easier to manage; the backaches, on the other hand, were only getting worse. 

From the moment I woke up every morning, my spine felt like it was trying to trade places with one of my ribs, and no amount of stretching or twisting could ease the discomfort. It was only after I saw Juno doing the same that I realized: it was his backache that I was feeling.

“How did you sleep?” I asked, sliding closer to stand just behind him.

His thoughts were dark and cloudy as a rain storm. Awful. “Fine.”

“Really? That surprises me.” I sidled even closer, my hand slipping up his shoulder. “I’d be miserable if I had to sleep on a couch for so long.”

“Yeah, well, that’s why you’re on the bed.” A part of him buzzed with agitation, but only a part; the rest of him was occupied by the feeling of my hand on him.

“I’m grateful for that.” I set my other hand on his shoulder and began to knead the muscle there. I could feel the tension in his back like it was my own, and the exquisite feeling of thumbs digging deep into the knots and working them loose. I couldn’t see the way his eyes rolled back, but I could feel them. 

I could get used to this. 

I leaned in close enough that I could feel his scalp tingling as I breathed gently against the back of his neck. His head tipped back and he melted against me.

“You don’t have to sleep out here,” I murmured into his ear. “The bed is more than big enough for two.”

He wanted to say yes-- he ached for the chance-- but his reflexive answer was the first one he gave. 

“No.” He stepped away, out of my reach. No matter how much he wanted me, he didn’t want to be conned by a criminal. Not again.

But he was already neck deep in a con and he knew it; getting in bed with me wouldn’t make it any worse, would it?

But who ever said anything about sex? A neck rub and an invitation to sleep on an actual bed wasn’t an offer to fuck; it was his own goddamn fault if he let his thoughts go in that direction.

At the same time, wasn’t that an invitation? The touching, the heavy breathing, the bedroom eyes? I was a man of subtlety, after all. I didn’t have to say things outright to get what I wanted.

But what if I was just like that? What if he was reading signals that weren’t really there? If he acted on an invitation that wasn’t really there, he wouldn’t know how to live with himself. 

All that thinking was making Juno’s head throb, and it was making mine even worse. 

And suddenly Juno’s train of thoughts came to a standstill. “Nureyev, you’re bleeding.”

Concern sharpened his gaze as it flitted from my face to my shirt. I glanced down.

Oh, that really was a lot of blood, wasn’t it?

That’s it. You’re going back to the hospital.

I pulled a packet of tissues out of my back pocket and started cleaning up my face. “There’s no need for that, Juno.”

When I looked up at him, his eyes had narrowed.

He didn’t say that out loud.

“It’s still in you,” he said slowly. “Whatever the hell was in that Pill. It’s still in you.” 

“It isn’t as bad as you think.”

“And you would know, since apparently you can read my mind.” His voice was rising. His agitation crackled against my skin like the precursor to an electrical storm. “What the hell were you thinking, Nureyev? That shit almost killed you.”

“I’m thinking that my career will be over if I become Mars’s latest medical spectacle.” 

“It’ll end even faster if you drop dead from whatever the hell is making you bleed like that.” 

“Juno.” I leaned my forehead against his, so he could see my eyes and not the blood on my shirt. “Juno, I can get it under control.” 

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” I murmur. “It’s something I’ve been working on. And I’m getting better. But I need you to be patient with me.” 

I was still far from mastering the ability, but I was getting a better idea of how far I could push myself before the blood and pain began. What caught me by surprise was just how easy it was to slip past that point. I hadn’t intended to delve so deep into Juno’s head just now; it had simply happened. 

“If you think I’m just going to sit back and watch this thing kill you--”

“If I feel like I’m in danger, I’ll go back to the hospital,” I said. “But until then, I need you to trust me.” 

“Trust you,” he repeated bitterly. “You’re a thief, remember?” But his words carried no sting when I felt the intent behind them. “The second you feel like it’s getting out of control--”

“I’ll trust you to come to my rescue.” 

That night he took me up on my offer to share his bed.