They watched the seven-minute video in silence, Elijah’s heart lodged in his throat, his cock uncomfortably hard against his zipper. When the cartoon ended, Elijah lowered his arm but didn’t move. He couldn’t. Shep’s embrace was safe and warm, a balm for his frayed nerves. Shep didn’t move either. When he spoke, his breath puffed against Elijah’s cheek. “I remind you of that dog?” Shep asked.
Elijah turned to face him, forced to take a step back to look up. “Yeah. Sam is fantastic at his job. Ralph never gets a sheep when Sam’s on hiswatch. Plus, he’s really calm, but will also not hesitate to kick some ass to protect his sheep. Nevermind that he has red hair and is also a shepherd.” Shep’s inscrutable expression was back, making Elijah feel untethered, his voice losing confidence as he finished, “See, that’s why you’re Sam.”
“So, if I’m Sam… does that make you the sheep?” Shep asked.
It wasn’t said with any malice. There was no emotion at all. Elijah searched Shep’s face for any sign of the right answer, yearning to go back to a moment ago when Shep’s arms were around himbut there were only brilliant gold eyes pinning him in place.
“Do you think I’m a sheep?” he asked, his mouth a desert.
Shep shook his head. “You’re a peacock who thinks he’s a rabbit, trying to hide in a town full of sheep.”
Elijah scoffed. “I think I’d rather be a sheep than a rabbit.”
“Sheep and rabbits are both prey. It’s safer to just be the peacock.”
Elijah’s mood soured. “Not when your mother hates birds.” He stepped away from Shep. “Thanks for the coffee. I’m going to brush my teeth before the car gets here.”
Shep didn’t respond, but even as Elijah retreated, he felt the comforting weight of the older man’s gaze. Shep was always watching.
* * *
Elijah went to shower the moment they returned home, scrubbing the day away before throwing on pajama pants and a threadbare t-shirt. The day had consisted of a meeting with the costume department and a table read forThe Silencerto go over script changes. It was fun, but it had taken hours. When he padded barefoot to the kitchen, he found Shep had made them grilled cheese and tomato soup, which Shep ate leaning against the counter while Elijah sat cross-legged on top of the island. He scarfed down his sandwich in seconds, before drinking his soup by bringing the bowl to his lips, letting the warmth settle his frayed nerves.
Neither of them spoke, but Elijah didn’t find the silence uncomfortable. Just being in the same space with Shep calmed him. Elijah rarely felt safe, and he never felt settled, not because of any death threats or stupid Internet comments, but because feeling unsafe had been a part of him for so long, it felt indistinguishable from any other necessary function like breathing or swallowing. Receiving that card yesterday had only amplified a noise he’d grown accustomed to after all these years. Being with Shep was like somebody handing him headphones, the silence as soothing as it was unnerving.
With the dinner plates stacked in the sink for the housekeeper they both headed to bed. He was almost asleep when his phone vibrated signaling a call. A private number. Not unusual given his circle of celebrity friends. He swiped to accept the call. “Hello?”
There was a sound like static and popping. “Hello?” he said again. “Is somebody there?”
This time he heardthe clear sound of a sigh and then panting. Elijah pulled the phone away from his ear, staring at the screen even though it told him nothing of who his breathy friend might be.
“Listen, buddy. Nobody makes obscene phone calls anymore. It’s 2019. Update your material.”
He disconnected without waiting for an answer. It was only after Elijah lay in the dark, sleep eluding him, that his thoughts raced. Was that a wrong number? Had somebody just gotten lucky and had no idea Elijah was on the other side of that call? Was ithim wanting to see if Elijah had gotten his message? Fear crept over him, digging its talons deep enough to reopen old wounds. He reached for his phone.
“Sam?” he asked before Shep could even say hello.
There was a commotion on the other end of the line like Shep was moving. “What’s wrong, rabbit?”
I’m twenty-two years old and afraid of the dark?“What do you think happens to us when we die?” he asked, unwilling to tell Shep about the heavy breather who’d spooked him moments ago.
Shep didn’t answer straight away, there was more noise like Shep was getting comfortable. “That’s a big question to be tackling at two am,” he said, his voice gruff like he was trying to force his brain back online.
“Isn’t this when most people are pondering the big questions? When they can’t sleep 'cause their brains won’t shut off?”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Shep sighed. “I don’t believe in God or heaven. I think when we die, we die.”
“Oh,” Elijah said, not sure what he’d hoped for. Had he really thought Shep was the kind of guy who believed in an afterlife? Or karma? Did Elijah even believe in those things?
“What do you think happens when we die, rabbit?”
“I’m not really religious or anything either, but I guess I hope there’s a place where we’ll get to see the people we love again and where people who were dicks get punished.”
“Somebody you’re missing, kid?”
“My grandpa,” Elijah said, realizingit was true. Watching that cartoon with Shep had triggered a longing to see his grandfather that he hadn’t felt in months. Or maybe it was that stupid card stirring up his emotions.
“The other Elijah?”
