Who: Will Moody, a drunken bachelorette party, and a knight in shining armor What: Will wanders off into the wilds of Vegas, makes a friend, shares a secret, and gets some food for thought. When: Late evening, Friday, May 3. Where: Niffler's Paradise → the street → a coffeeshop. Warnings: Sexual harrassment, religious discussion, some crying, plenty o' feels.
Will hadn't intended to wander away from the party, even if it wasn't precisely the kind of party he enjoyed. It was so much bigger and louder and more chaotic than any of the parties at the Kestrel, and there were so many people from all over the world here, speaking different languages, wearing different clothes. His eyes had been wide as saucers since the moment they'd taken the portkey here, and despite having no more than his usual butterbeer at the hotel bar during Finn's party, his head was spinning from the lights and noise and crowds as if he were drunk.
He hadn't intended to wander, but the paintings in the hallway outside the bar had caught his eye and he'd slipped out to look at them, and then had found himself caught up in a group of giggling and very drunken witches and had found himself swept out the door with them, because there were a lot of them and he couldn't figure out how to get out of the middle of the pack without being rude. One of the witches wore a sparkling crown and a sash with BACHELORETTE written on it in glittering letters over her very tight dress, and she was the drunkest and giggliest of them all. "Howdy," she said to Will, her words slurred, and slid her arm around his waist, leaning familiarly into his side. "You're hot. Come and dance with me. I'm the bride."
The rest of the witches cheered and whistled, and Will blushed and gingerly attempted to extricate himself without touching her. "...Congratulations. I wish you a happy and fruitful marriage. But nay, I cannot go with you, I must--"
"You're so hot. What Derek doesn't know won't hurt him, right girls?" the Bachelorette said to the throng, completely ignoring what Will was saying, and they all cheered again, still carrying Will along with them as they clipped down the street in a tight pack. "We're going to Slant. We're gonna dirty dance. I'm gonna grind on this rando right here."
Will didn't even know what that meant, but it sounded licentious from the way the witches whooped and shrieked with laughter. He was fully red in the face, his stomach twisting in discomfort and shame for the way this bride was behaving out of the sight of her husband. It was wickedness itself, and he was shocked to see it so openly on display. But then again, JJ had told him this place was sometimes called 'Sin City', a name he now thought he understood somewhat. "Nay," he protested again, and tried to free himself from her grasp. He jumped as a hand landed on his backside, squeezing brazenly; he had no idea what to do, and his head was too hot and fuzzy with embarrassed panic to think clearly.
"Ladies!" a man's voice cut through the din decisively. Like a many-headed hydra, they all looked over as one, some part bemused confusion, and others wary annoyance. A few were instantly disarmed by his easy smile and midwestern good looks, but the rest took in what he was wearing and his little metal name badge that couldn't quite be made out under the flashing lights around them. "Can we all take just a second to remember what 'nay' means, and how important it should be to honor that?"
This earned him a few derisive laughs and a dismissive comment or two, but a ripple of collective unease went through the group. They looked to the Bachelorette for guidance.
"What are you talking about?" the Bachelorette said, and swayed on her feet, clutching Will around the waist. "We're just having some fun, don't be a downer. It's my party and I can do whoever I want." She giggled again. "Get it?"
Will didn't get it, but he shook his head fervently 'no' to the idea that this was fun. "I-- I don't--"
She pressed a finger to his lips, startling him into silence. "Shh, honey. You're cuter when you're not talking."
A couple of the women giggled, but it sounded nervous now, and the pack shifted, opening up around Will. He edged toward freedom, again trying to gingerly free himself from the Bachelorette's grasp, but she was on him like a kraken on a ship, and she seemed to think his attempt at escape was a game; she laughed and clung all the tighter, and he looked up at the man who'd intervened in supplication.
The guy's smile was still there, just as pleasant as ever, but his tone had gone hard, and there was steel in his gaze. "Ma'am, he said 'no,' and I really need you to respect that. How many times have you been out and gotten hassled by a guy who wouldn't take a hint--or a flat out refusal? And besides, I think there's a 2-for-1 Ladies Night special over at Clique going on right now."
"Ooo, darlin', you're speaking my language," said the Bachelorette, entirely diverted. "Girls, we're going there." She took her arm away from Will's body to point, and he took the opportunity to escape, almost tripping over his own two feet in his hurry to extricate himself from the crowd of women. One of the partygoers, somewhat more sober than the rest, stepped in to take the Bachelorette's arm, and another one shamefacedly mouthed 'sorry' at Will as the party made its way onward.
Will covered his entirely red face with his hands for a moment and took a deep breath to calm the shame and anxiety still roiling in his stomach. "The Lord be praised," he said muffledly after a moment, and dropped his hands to look up at his rescuer. "I thank you. I didn't know how to--" He shuddered and brushed at himself; he could still feel the drunken woman's hands all over him like tentacles, and it was not pleasant. "Thank you," he repeated fervently. "I am in your debt."
The young man's face was full of concern when Will recovered enough to make eye contact again. He didn't take a step toward the obviously shaken tourist, but he did carefully extend his hand. "It's fine, really. Don't mention it. I'm Luke, by the way, and you look like you could use a place to sit down. There's a really chill coffee place right around the corner, unless you have someplace to be?"
Will shook his hand gratefully. "My name is Obedience-To-Thy-Will. Folk call me Will," he added out of habit. "And I--" He hesitated, looking back to where he could still see the glowing golden sign of the Niffler's Paradise. "My friends are at a birthday party yonder," he told him, gesturing in that direction. "But 'twould be a relief to be somewhere less… loud." He managed a smile; his blush was fading. "I have no fondness for that bar. If you would show me to this chill coffee place, I would be grateful."
Luke blinked a little at the name, but his smile deepened by degrees. His handshake was firm, but unchallenging, and he released Will's hand before the courtesy window could expire. Nodding in the direction he'd indicated before, he began to lead the way. "It's nice to meet you, Will. Sorry Vegas seems to be getting to you. It can be a lot, and it's pretty constant. I've been here a couple of months, and I get overwhelmed all the time."
The Kozy Klatch was tucked away between a pawn shop and a convenience store that was plastered with violently colored fliers advertising the very best (and worst) that the Strip had to offer. Even the door to the place was unassuming, a blink and you'd-miss-it kind of deal. Or maybe there was a touch of magic on it. Luke smiled as he held open the door, and was greeted by the staff with obvious familiarity. "What'll you have?"
Will followed without a second thought, staying close behind the other young man so as not to get separated from him in the crowd. The mood in the coffee shop was as 'chill' as advertised, and the minute the door shut behind them, the noise from the street was magically blocked out, and he heaved a deep sigh of relief, unconsciously relaxing his spine.
"I would like hot tea and milk, please," he answered, and smiled at the older woman behind the counter. "Pray, may I buy you a tea or coffee as well, Luke? 'Twould be my honor."
Shaking his head a little, Luke gave a wry chuckle. "I was just about to offer the same, but you beat me to it. Can we split the difference and let me snag something to eat for you?" While he let Will consider it, he gave Millie his uncomplicated coffee order--"small, black, two sugars"-- and then smiled back at the other man. "Zero pressure."
"Aye," Will agreed easily, and smiled back, meeting Luke's eyes. "I could eat anything. I thank you." He folded his hands in front of him, watching the other young man curiously. "You live here?" he asked after a moment. "'Tis hard for me to imagine living in a place like this. But you've not been here more than a season? Where did you come from?"
After putting in an order for a couple of savory hand pies and sweet pastries, Luke led the way to an empty table--which wasn't hard to do, given the hour--and answered as he went. "It's not so bad once you get out of this area. The suburbs are super quiet. It's a pretty huge contrast. I guess it keeps me sane, being able to get out of it when I want to. Especially coming from a little place like Chugwater, Wyoming. I'm here for school, doing a work-study thing. What about you?"
Will sat, relaxing yet more once he was off his feet, and nodded at his new friend. "I come from a very small town as well. My home is in Old Plymouth, in Plymouth Territory of your Confederation. But now I live near a town called Snowcap in Northwest Territory. I'm only here to visit with my friends, and truthfully, I don't consider I like it very much." He smiled apologetically and ducked his head. "But I like it here better than the outside. What kind of work do you do for your school?"
A sympathetic wince flickered across Luke's face, and he nodded his understanding. "This place definitely isn't for everybody. I'm not even sure some days if Vegas is even for itself." He paused to smile at the older gentleman who brought over their drinks. They exchanged a small flurry of hand and finger movements before the man huffed out an amused breath and left them to their respective coffee and tea. Luke pushed half of the food he'd gotten in Will's direction, after which he sat back and surveyed his drink. A faint smile still remained, but there was something rueful in it now. "And I'm not really sure if you could call the Confederation mine necessarily, though I get why you probably think so."
He tapped his chest and shrugged. "I'm a magi-can't," Luke explained. "Only one in my family. But I've been forging my own study into the nature of magic, trying to develop a working theory as to how it functions, and how some people get it, but not others. So most of 'work' tends to be social outreach and anthropological observation. There's a leyline junction about fifteen miles outside of the city, and a number of people have posited that these junctions or clusters formed by natural topography and land masses are what draw magical people and beings into those spots or the surrounding areas--like Snowcap or Plymouth. Like it's not just social groupings, but something deeper." He paused and went a little flush. "Sorry. That was probably way more information than you were looking for. Maybe I should just stick with the shorter: I'm a missionary."
Will listened closely to the explanation, trying to understand, even if many of the words were unfamiliar. He thought he understood somewhat about the leylines, and his admiration for this man grew and deepened. "Nay, I am interested," he answered, and wrapped his fingers around his warm mug, smiling at him. "I consider I may not understand it. I don't have much schooling, but I confess I have always been over-curious. And I've often wondered--" He hesitated, looking down at the table, and then pressed on. "My folk hold that the talent of magic comes from the Lord like any other gift, and 'tis not man's place to question his will, but I've wondered about it, too. Why he's seen fit to give this gift to some and not others."
He shrugged, and smiled up at Luke again after another moment. "You're a missionary for a church? Are you Christian?"
An eager nod followed Will's own questioning of magical divinity, and Luke found himself grinning at him. "Exactly! I mean, sure, it could be a part of the Divine Plan, but why would God give us a brain and the ability for free thought if He didn't want us to use it? And who's to say that magic isn't tied to nature, and therefore left to its own devices as far as divine intervention is concerned?"
He chuckled. "Of course, all of that can be tied back to an individual's belief system, whether it's faith based or the sciences or something else altogether. And obviously, I'm trying to come at this without any personal bias, but it's difficult when magic itself won't obey what should be the fundamental laws of the universe-- which are clearly more like guidelines than actual laws when it comes to you--magic-users, I mean." His cheeks warmed as he realized he was doing it again. "Which is a super roundabout way to say, yes, I'm a Christian and a missionary. I'm guessing you are too? What do you do in Snowcap? Also, there's no such thing as 'over-curious' in my world."
Luke's eager smile was beautiful and dangerous; Will looked away hastily lest he be tempted to stare. "Nay -- I mean, aye, I am a Christian, but I am in no way fit to preach. I have not the learning for it, or the temperament, and my character is not..." He shook his head; he didn't mean to confess all his failings to this man he'd only just met but already admired greatly. "I work at the Brightstar Reserve, if you have heard of it. I'm only a wrangler, which is a man-of-all-work." Will glanced up at him again, doubtful that Luke, who seemed so knowledgeable and learned, wanted to hear about his own job. "'Tis much less interesting than your work, I consider."
Contrary to Will's assumptions, Luke sat forward with obvious excitement. "Are you kidding me? That sounds amazing! Getting to work with all those creatures and beasts and beings? Sounds like heaven to me. Never getting to take Care of Magical Creatures is one of the things I'm really sad about missing out on, but--" he shrugged, offhand and still smiling--"it's all good. I guess you could say I'm studying Care of Human Souls instead."
His thoughts suddenly circled back to something Will had said, and his expression sobered as he considered the other man with a slight tilt to his head. "It's not all books, y'know. Teaching the Good Word. It helps, don't get me wrong, but if the heart isn't there, then it's just noise, and people can tell. But if it's not for you, there's nothing wrong with that. God leads us to where we should go if we have the strength to listen."
Will nodded, considering that notion with the appropriate degree of gravity. "Aye. I consider I am suited to work with beasts. 'Tis what I've done for years now, and I have been blessed to learn and practice on many a farm and ranch and refuge. I consider God has been very good to me in that way." He smiled and picked up the hand pie, smelling it curiously before taking a bite while he watched Luke, so many thoughts and questions tripping over themselves in his head.
"How did you know?" he asked finally, once he'd swallowed. "That the Lord wanted you to preach and share the faith?"
Whenever people asked him for his origin story, Luke always tailored it for his audience. Some people were just being polite, while others sometimes went looking for an opening to tear him down. It was all about knowing his audience, and the needs he could pick up on. He garnered no such affectations nor guile in his new friend, but he still took a moment to put together the proper framework. "I was ten when the idea first came to me, but I wasn't remotely in a place to listen, being fresh off of being told I didn't have a lick of magic in me. I was so angry, just all the time. For years. I played the good son, the honor roll student, but I resented it. Every second. I had pages and pages of journals that were just rage. I didn't know why I wasn't good enough. I didn't know why God hated me."
He gave Will a tiny smile as he sat back and rubbed at his neck, before carding his hand through his hair. "I promise this has a good ending, but you know what they say about the darkest before the dawn. I met someone a couple of years ago, and I just knew we were forever. One of those instant connections where you've already given your heart away before you even realize it. So, of course, cue the inevitable messy, messy break up a couple of months later, and I just didn't want any of it anymore. I wanted it to be over. For good."
It wasn't intended to be dramatic, but Luke let the statement hang there a moment, a weighty sentiment. That smile lingered, probably seemed incongruous. "That's when Sam came into my life. Ran me clear off the road in Chugwater in the summer while I was out on my bike. Picked me right up, dusted me off and said, 'You need a friend.' Sam just knew. We went to a diner a couple of towns over. Sam said it was to fix my bike, but I figured it was to get me away from anyone I might know. Anyway, we talked for hours that night, and well into the next day. Sometimes it was just the standard stuff, likes and interests, y'know? But mostly we talked about God and faith and how to reconcile what we believe with what we see and feel. By the end of it, that little voice was back, that Calling. I never saw Sam again, but I finally knew my heart. I knew God hadn't made me wrong, He just made me for a different purpose. I mean, I don't think I'm done growing as a person or anything. I know I still have a long way to go, but it's cool now, y'know?" Luke peered at his companion, wondering. "Was it like that for you?"
Will listened to that whole story intently, watching Luke as he talked, considering it all. It seemed impressive to him, having such an experience, and for a moment he was a bit envious of how certain the other man was about his place and his role in the world, before he shooed that unchristlike emotion away. He shook his head slowly. "Nay, never. I work with creatures because tis what I've always done. I do have a way with beasts, and I like the work, but I've never felt called to it as you were to preaching. But… I am content, and I consider I'm blessed to have good work, in a place I like, and to have friends there." He smiled, shrugging. "As the good book says, 'Trust in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not unto thine own wisdom. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy ways.' So I trust the Lord to lead me where I should go."
Another bright smile filled Luke's face as he nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly! 'Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?' It comes down to trust in your faith, right? Trust in Him, and he won't steer you wrong. He's brought some of the most interesting people into my life, and I love hearing their stories. I think what you do is awesome, even if it sounds like you think it doesn't amount to much. You watch over God's creatures, keep them safe and cared for. That's amazing. If that's not a calling, I don't know what is!"
Will nodded solemnly, his expression clearing. To hear Luke say those words lightened his heart and his mind, and it felt curiously like he did sometimes in church service: comforted, clear-eyed, and contented with his lot in life. All the uncertainties, confusion, and unprofitable yearnings seemed to go away when he heard the word of God spoken, and he always felt stronger and fortified against temptation. "Aye, 'tis certain you are right. I could not do more, being as I am, and I am useful in this job. I always wanted to be of use." He smiled and looked down, wrapping his fingers around his mug again. "I love the creatures. I work with the bicorns, and unicorns, and they are very dear to me. Have you ever seen a unicorn foal?"
His savory pastry had long gone cold, but Luke didn't really mind. He only had himself to blame, after all. And anyway, something rather beautiful and arresting was happening on Will's face, and Luke caught himself staring. He pinched off another corner of buttery goodness, but didn't eat it yet. "I have not! What's it like? What're they like? I'll bet it's incredible-- they're incredible."
"Aye," Will agreed, beaming as proudly as if the foals were his own children. "All unicorns are wondrous, but I consider the foals are specially amazing. Here, I can show thee--" He fished his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it, and laboriously navigated to his photos. JJ had taught him how to take pictures on the device, which he still handled with cautious reverence, and he'd been practicing taking moving pictures as well.
It took him just a moment to find the one he wanted to show -- he didn't have that many pictures on his device. "Here," he said, and stood, coming around the table to lean over his new friend's shoulder and show him the short, slightly shaky video of Treasure the foal, with his nubby little horn, his faint golden markings, and his coltish long legs, taking his first steps outside the enclosure into the new green grass outside, following the rest of the herd for the first time. Will watched along with Luke, even though he had seen it many times before; he loved to see it, remembering how difficult the foal's birth had been, how easily Treasure and his mother could have died had it not been for God sending Will to the enclosure that night, and for Dr. Brightstar's quick actions. "'Tis my favorite foal," he told Luke, and turned his head to smile at him. "I call him Treasure."
He was sure that the jerky video didn't do reality anything like justice, but Luke was still absolutely enchanted. He took in a sharp breath as warmth stole through his chest. Of all the reactions he could be having, this was not one he'd even considered. He'd expected delight, sure, or maybe even keen interest, but not this almost overwhelming feeling of joy. "Oh, Will," he breathed. "He really is! You're so--"
Momentarily distracted, he didn't account for the utter lack of distance between them now, so when he went to face Will, to grin at him again, he suddenly found the other man right there. There was virtually no space between their mouths, and their breaths intermingled. He got the impression of tea and hay and frozen winters. Luke froze, but he didn't pull away.
For half a second, Will was still as a stone, as close to another man as he'd allowed himself to get in years. He looked as he'd barely let himself look before, meeting Luke's eyes for that brief moment before dropping his gaze down to his lips, and then-- he jerked himself away, his cheeks gone dull red with shame and his stomach turning to lead as he turned away.
"I, I, I, I pray thee pardon me," he said without looking back at him, the words half-strangled by the mortification and guilt rising in his throat. "I am not… I should not… the fault is mine, and I am sorely sorry."
The moment had been unmistakable, had gone through him like an electric charge. His hesitation lasted for less than that moment, and Luke was on his feet and had come around Will to face him again. "Hey, no. Don't be," he quickly assured his new friend. Luke raised his hand to reach out and touch his arm, but thought better of it. Instead, his fingers close in on themselves, and his hand just hovered between them. He took a half-step forward, because this felt important. "Don't be. I didn't...mind. At all. I don't mind."
Will felt a rush of gratitude through his shame that Luke was so kind, so understanding of his weakness. He chanced a look up at him, though he didn't let his gaze linger; he folded his hands together behind his back and dropped his eyes to the ground, still blushing. "I thank thee," he said, soft, a little hoarsely. "I consider as a preacher thou must be no stranger to ministering to folk who are weak to such… such unclean temptations. I struggle mightily against this wickedness, but I have not the strength of will to cast it off. I… I thank thee for thy understanding, Luke."
"I'm not--" he broke off, because explaining that he wasn't a preacher in the sense that Luke was thinking was just arguing semantics. It was a dumb thing to try to clarify, not when the other man was so clearly trapped in a perverse cycle of self-doubt and self-hatred. A touch of unkind anger flickered through his thoughts, because how many of his fellow brothers and sisters had he seen go through just this very thing. "Will, no. I-I can't call you weak or wicked without coming off as a hypocrite. And I'm not even touching the 'unclean temptations', no pun intended."
He chuckled and sent a wry smile in Will's direction. "I just mean that…" Luke pushed out a sigh. It wasn't like he lead with this, hardly ever. Nine times out of ten, it never came up, or at least it didn't for a long while. "God made me for a purpose. I really do believe that. God made me who I am, and part of who I am is gay. I'm also allergic to shellfish, can't stand the smell of peanut butter, but I'm also hopelessly addicted to Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. People tease me about my red hair, and my utter inability to play basketball. He let me fall in love with Kyle, and He let Kyle break my heart, all so I could be set on this path. To spread His word. To tell people about His love and His infinite forgiveness. All of that comes from God. I grew up thinking just like you did, taught that it was wrong and a choice, but I was miserable denying who I was and what I felt. That wasn't what God made me to do. He doesn't want us to hate who we are. He would never want that. He loves us. He loves you."
The room spun around Will at that word -- gay -- and he had to grab at the table to steady himself. The rest of Luke's words washed over him, heard but barely understood as he gaped at him in purest astonishment..
He stared, struck speechless for a long moment, and then he had to sit down. "Nay," he said at last, not strongly, but at least audible. "Nay, I -- I may not be learned, but I know my Bible. ''And likewise also the men left the natural use of the woman, and burned in their lust toward one another, and man with man wrought filthiness, and received in themselves such recompense of their error, as was meet.' Romans, the first chapter. And many other verses beside. I know the worldly law is different here, but God's law is eternal and absolute." His voice cracked on those last few words, and tears rose in his eyes, but he swallowed and set his jaw, clinging to his certainty about this, at least, if nothing else. "'Tis sin, and the temptation to sin is the work of Satan, not of our loving God. How could it be otherwise?" He raised his eyes to meet Luke's again, pleadingly. "How can a man love our Father, and yet not do everything in his power to hold fast to his holy word? I don't understand it."
He took his seat again as soon as Will did. It wasn't that Luke wanted to argue the point, so when he spoke next it was quietly, pouring his own belief in every word. He'd met so many people already with just this inner-turmoil, and it killed him to see that kind of suffering every time. "'Owe no one anything, except to love each other, for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law'- Romans. 'Do everything in love'- Corinthians. 'Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins'- Peter. 'My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you'- John. It's all right there: Love. That's how I do it. That's how I accept who I am, and what I feel. Because God is Love."
Will knew each and every one of those verses (albeit in a different form), but he'd never considered them in relation to this temptation of his. He bit at his lower lip, staring down at his folded hands on the table. "Aye. But…" He shook his head. "I know that we are to love our neighbor, but hate sin. Knowing that only the Lord is perfect, still we are to strive to be good in our imperfect ways, aye? 'Abhor that which is evil, and cleave unto that which is good.' Romans, the twelfth chapter. And this…" He pressed his fist against his heart. "This is licentiousness, wickedness, and lust. 'Tis worldly, Luke. It cannot be of the Spirit."
"Is it always just of the body? Your feelings?" Luke gave him a long, considering look. "Romans 12 says, 'Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor.' Are you willing to invalidate what you're heart tries to tell you? 'Above all, love each other.' Above all. Doesn't that make it the most important thing that God wants us to do?"
"Aye, but," Will tried again, his eyes still cast down, "'tis not love. Not the sort of love a man should feel for his, his brothers in Christ. Paul did not intend his words to mean this." He thumped his fist over his heart again, which felt so tender and bruised on the inside that he felt the need to make it so on the outside as well. "And even if 'tis not wholly wicked, 'tis not what the Lord intends for us. 'Therefore shall man leave his father and mother, and shall cleave to his wife, and they shall be one flesh.' I have a -- a friend who may help me in this, if I court her, though I wish so fervently that I could feel for her--" He took in a shuddering breath. "I wish so sorely that my soul could desire her. Would that not be better than loving someone whom the Lord has forbidden me to… to touch?" He flushed again, but he dared to look up at Luke's face.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the concerned looks they were getting from the Klatch's staff. Luke gave a very subtle shake of his head--he had this--even as he took a deep breath to carefully settle his hand on Will's wrist. "Would you be happy like that? Forever denying what was in your heart? Hurting yourself by living a lie? Would you want that for your friend, let alone yourself? I don't know your friend, but it really sounds like it wouldn't be fair to either of you. Marriage is about finding that one person in all the world that we can share ourselves with. The good, the bad, the fun, the messy human parts that make us worthy of God's infinite love and His infinite forgiveness and Grace. Don't you want that, Will? Don't you want to be loved for everything you are?"
The ache in Will's heart grew with every word, and tears grew in his eyes again. "I do sorely want that," he whispered. "Aye. I consider everyone must want that." He dashed away the dampness with the back of his free hand. "But I am afraid. Even if mayhap I could find peace with this, I could never go home. And it seems so lonely, Luke. Are thou not lonely in it?"
Keeping his hand on Will, Luke glanced down at the table, face gone wry and thoughtful. "I do miss them sometimes," he admitted, "but I've also learned the importance of finding my own family. One who loves me for who I am, not what they expect me to be. I'm not a disappointment, I'm not some queer abomination." He shrugged a shoulder; the words hurt, of course. They echoed a hundred, a thousand insults just like the ones he'd heard for years, but he'd made his peace with them. And he didn't mind if the remembered pain showed in his eyes. They were his scars, a reminder of how far he'd come. "I'm just Luke."
Will looked down at Luke's hand on his, his vision still blurred by tears. He had a sudden impulse to grab the other man's hand and pull it to his chest, to let his touch soothe the ache in his heart, but that was far too forward. He did turn his hand over and wrap his fingers around Luke's, gripping his hand tightly. "Do they still love thee?" he asked haltingly. "This family of thine?"
Reaching out with his other hand, he closed it over the top of Will's. It was a comforting weight, but not a restrictive one. You can go whenever you want, Luke's touch implied, but I'd prefer it if you stayed. "My church family does. My found family does. The home ones? A lot of them have come around. The ones that count. Most of my siblings, my mom and dad. They may not say anything in public one way or the other, but I know. Their silence doesn't hurt me like it used to. But family is so much more than blood.
"Family is finding friends who love you and want to spend time with you. It's people who won't judge you, and will help pick you right back up again if you stumble and fall. But that's really up to you. You don't have to rely on anyone else if you don't want to, just like--" here he gave Will a little self-deprecating smile--"you totally don't have to listen to a word I say. But even if you walk away from this with absolutely nothing else, I just hope you remember this one thing: everything I've said tonight has been from love. God loves you, Will. I hope you know that."
Luke's smile deepened, which might have been incongruous were it not for what came next. "But if I can hope for two things you walk away with? Well, it would be God's love and my number. That you can call anytime, night or day."
Will was very still as he listened, all his focus on that warm and comforting weight of Luke's hand over his; the ache in his heart eased into something soft and warm and almost like hope. He took a calming breath, and then another one, and when he looked up at Luke again he was almost able to smile back at him. Not quite, but his expression was calmer, his forehead less lined with worry. "I will, aye. Thou'rt busy with thy work and I would not take thee away from that, but mayhap we could talk if -- if 'tis not inconvenient." He sniffed and reached for a napkin to dab at his still-damp eyes; the food and tea were long gone cold in front of him, but that was the last thing on his mind right now. "I don't know if I can ever believe what you do, but I… I admire thee that thy faith in our Father's abiding love is so strong. I will strive to be so faithful."
Giving him a shallow nod, Luke continued to smile. His heart went out to Will, truly and deeply. While he had no real idea of where he was at in his Spiritual journey, nor of his background and former home life, he thought he had some small measure of the wizard. Luke had hope for him, and a sincere desire for him to find some peace of mind. "Let me promise you this: it's never going to be an inconvenience to talk to you. And, if I can offer you some advice-- and feel free to ignore it, 'cause what do I know--don't force this. Wherever you wind up, God's got you. And...so do I."
That promise was more steadying than it had any right to be, from someone he'd known for an hour but had shared more of his true thoughts with than any of his family and most of his friends. Will took another deep breath, calming his mind and body, and at last he was able to smile back at him again, just a little. "Thou'rt kind, and I thank thee. I have not known a preacher like thee before. I consider the Lord was gracious to send thee to me tonight." He squeezed Luke's hand gently. "Mayhap I could warm thy coffee for thee," he offered, with a glance at his cold cup, "and we could speak on… other things. I fear my heart is too sore just now to speak on this more."
Glancing down, Luke had to admit that he'd pretty much forgotten all about his drink, so he chuckled and nodded with a grin. A part of him wanted to wave away the gratitude, but he was gracious enough to accept it without comment. "Sure, that'd be great. Both of those We were talking about unicorns before, right? Tell me more about Treasure. Please?"