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[thirtybits]

"This is Judah's voicemail, no need to leave your number, I'll reply as soon as I can."



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[depicted]

Distrust is an ugly habit. [Dorian nods his head towards the meat they've left behind.] 'Course, you realize that no one will eat that meat now except you.

[thirtybits]

Oh it's not that bad. [Judas rolls his eyes.] I guess I'd warn about pollen and all, but it'll be fine. I'll take some to Jesus, he could definitely use it.

[depicted]

You can't! [Dorian grabs Judas's hands.] Swear you won't. Swear that you and only you will eat it.

[thirtybits]

--What? Why only me? It was meant for two people, how am I going to eat all that?

[depicted]

It's cold meat. It will last a little while. [His grip tightens on Judas's hands.] Swear it. If you care for me at all, swear it.

[thirtybits]

[Slowly, Judas nods.] ...If you put it like that, I have to. Although I don't understand why.

[depicted]

[And just like that, Dorian is all pleased smiles. He lets Judas's hands go.] It's what I wanted. [No other reason necessary.]

[thirtybits]

Well, I guess if you made it for me, it would be rude otherwise...

[depicted]

I'm so glad you agree. [Dorian pours more wine for himself, then for Judas, and then finishes off the ful.] Now, we have set for ourselves an evening at the cinema, but you must tell me if there is anything else you would care to do.

[thirtybits]

I'm not sure. [He thinks about it for a moment, looking up to the sky.] Were we coming back here afterwards?

[depicted]

If that's what you want.

[thirtybits]

[Closing his eyes, Judas lowers his voice. It's another case of walking the line of what cannot be said.] Left entirely up to me, I'd stay out here with you for ages.

[depicted]

[Dorian feels it, understands it without letting it become words, extends his hand to Judas's hair to twist a strand between his fingers. The gap must be preserved, crossed only with touches that cannot speak in concrete terms.]

My dear Judah. I would drive you quite mad.

[thirtybits]

I don't think so, you know how I spent several years living, and with who. ...Plus if you can't drive me crazy on a regular day, then... [He offers a small grin.]

[depicted]

[He lets the lock of hair untwist so he can sink his fingers in, brush through Judas's hair, as if that touch can make up for the other distance he is keeping between them.] You would have to look after everything. I don't have wilderness survival skills.

[A little fib, but that doesn't matter.]

[thirtybits]

As if that isn't the story of my life already. [With a smile, he places his hand over Dorian's and laces their fingers together.]

[depicted]

[To reassure, Dorian gives their linked hands a slight squeeze.] Even so, my inclinations don't tend towards the pastoral.

[thirtybits]

Well I knew that. [He laughs.] That would be interesting to see. But terribly out of character.

[depicted]

Then you understand why we must live in Sodom or Gomorrah, not the Jordan River plain.

[thirtybits]

I know. [He smiles, just a little, and if anything, it's a bit sad. But he shakes his head.] Although I hear there's going to be a fire or something there? Maybe another city would be better.

[depicted]

Don't worry. [With a hand on Judas's face, he thinks he might change its mood.] If I did turn into salt, it would be but a momentary event. You could sell off whatever salt was left and buy another field.

[thirtybits]

I didn't get a chance to buy the first one. What makes you think it would be any different? [At least the awful joke does its job.]

[depicted]

[So good that their terrible sense of humour can be relied on.] What, you're going to kill yourself right after I turn myself to salt even though I come back? That's a little unfaithful, wouldn't you say?

[thirtybits]

Jesus comes back too, what's your point?

[depicted]

[Dorian lifts his chin.] I do it faster. And without an assist from my dad.