Could It Be Magic

by Heather Mar-Gerrison

  Chapter 5 – Summoning…

  Saul

  Unable to comprehend that Laars wanted to spend time with him, Saul shut the door before he could throw his arms around Laars neck and kiss his face off.

  Marching straight over to his suitcase, Saul muttered under his breath about the state of his meagre selection of clothing. Having never fancied anyone (other than people on TV and the like) in his life before, it had never mattered how he dressed. Consequently, he had no idea how to dress to fit in with people like Laars and the rest of the crowd. Who was he kidding? He’d never really fitted in anywhere regardless of the state of his wardrobe. The magical world had always thought he was a loser – and now, it seemed, the ordinary human world did, too. Well, all except Laars. He seemed to find something about Saul interesting – and Saul couldn’t deny that he was absolutely besotted with Laars...

  Better not let him see how much you like him, he warned himself as he stripped off his clothes and headed for the shower, keep your cool. This is just the first day of the rest of your life...

  Saul came out of the bathroom and looked around his room in surprise. Had his mother dropped by? She had said she was missing him. Was she going to keep turning up at the most inopportune times? He hoped not… He gazed around again to make sure it wasn’t his imagination. His rocks were arranged neatly on his desk in a way that he’d always wanted to arrange them but had never really managed before; his suitcase was under his bed and a glance towards the wardrobe showed that his meagre selection of clothing was hanging up on hangers. Had there even been hangers in there? He hadn’t noticed…

  “Oh.” He murmured, “What happened here, then?”

  He shook his head. He had to be losing it. Had he really done all this before heading for the shower? He couldn’t remember having done so.

  He frowned as he remembered the self-stirring latte. Oh, my God. Was there actually magic in the air?

  He smiled. There sure was where Laars was concerned. Good lord, he’d never had the pleasure of meeting such a gorgeous man in his life before.

  Trying his best to stop thinking about him, he went over the wardrobe and pulled out a bright red polo neck sweater that he swore hadn’t been there before. He tried it on and stared at himself in the mirror. Holy cow! It clung to him like a second skin and his skinny black jeans that usually made him look like an overgrown runner bean, had never looked better on him. Smiling to himself he found his shoes. His shoes were his prize possessions apart from his rocks and there was absolutely no harm in dressing to impress, even if this unknown top and skinny jeans were the only things he owned that he could actually attempt dressing to impress in, he was going to make the most of them. He pulled on his red Converses – and why not, since they matched the polo neck sweater perfectly? He took another look in the mirror. “Looking good,” he drawled. He was ready to go.

  The minutes passed. Saul checked his watch. Even though they weren’t supposed to be meeting for another half an hour or so, Saul was getting impatient. He really wanted to see Laars again. “Come on.” He murmured under his breath.

  Seconds later, a knock at the door startled him.

  Chapter 6 – Awakening…

  Laars

  “What the fuck?” Laars muttered as he gazed at the closed door in front of his face.

  He’d been playing on his games console and he was beating his opponent that he gamed regularly with over the net, hands down.

  The next second, he was in the shower, washing his hair. The second after that he was splashing on aftershave, dressing to impress and was all ready to start heading over to Saul’s place. He went back to where he’d discarded his games controller and stared at the screen in dismay. The other player, ‘PrinceGeoffreyIII’ had won the fight hands down. “What the fuck?” he murmured. What on earth had possessed him to stop playing in the middle of the battle he’d had going on? He’d let the little fucker, Prince Geoff, or whatever the loser’s name was, win the game. What the actual fuck?

  It all became clear, and absolutely worth it, however, when the door he was staring at opened, and Saul’s beautiful, darker-than-dark eyes, gazed back into his, an impish grin on his gorgeous, kissable lips.

  “Hi.” Saul said, his voice sounding utterly sexy to Laars. “I was just thinking about you.”

  Laars nodded, “I was thinking about you, too,” he admitted a little ruefully, “and the next thing I knew, I was standing right here.”

  Saul’s eyes flashed with something that Laars couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was like watching some sort of awakening in his new friend, “Really?” he asked, sounding shocked.

  Laars nodded, “Yes.” He said, “I stopped playing the game I was winning…” he trailed off, feeling suddenly like he was totally oversharing.

  Saul’s jaw dropped, “Oh, my God,” he whispered, “I summoned you?” The way he posed the question was almost as if saying it was scaring him.

  Laars laughed, “Hardly.” He scoffed, but part of him was wondering if Saul had somehow bewitched him. He pushed that errant thought right to the back of his mind. He didn’t believe in such mumbo-jumbo, even if his mother did.

  He smiled to himself at being so fanciful. His mother would be proud of him for even contemplating the idea.

  He’d mentioned Saul to her on the phone. He’d called her as soon as he’d got back to his room to check that she was okay.

  “Saul?” she asked, “Th-That’s an unusual name.”

  “I guess.” What the fuck possessed you to mention him? He could have kicked himself. Now she’d get all excited that he’d finally met a guy…

  “What’s his last name, honey?” she asked. Like it mattered. She wouldn’t know him, anyway.

  “Blackthorn.” He said, wondering when it was that Saul had actually told him. He was certain he’d never divulged the information but he’d got the name from somewhere… That was pretty weird, now that he came to think about it.

  “Blackthorn?” His mother gasped, “Oh!”

  Laars frowned, “Do you know him?” he asked. Surely not? That was far too crazy. Still, it had been a crazy old day…

  “I used to know someone with that surname.” She said, “It was someone from years ago. He was your father’s best friend, at university. His name was Nigel.”

  Laars had a funny feeling that when he asked Saul later on that day, he’d find that Nigel Blackthorn from his father’s past was going to be one and the same guy…

  “What happened to him?” he asked, a creeping feeling of dread beginning to flood his body.

  There was a beat of silence and then his mother answered, “After your dad was killed in the accident, Nigel and his family left the town without a backwards glance. I have no idea where they went, but it was like a disappearing act. You and Saul were about four, maybe five at the time…”

  Laars swallowed hard. That would be about right. Saul and he were the same age… “I’ll ask him.” He said.

  His mother sighed, “Tread carefully, Laars.” She said, “I never trusted Nigel...”

  “What do you mean?” A sudden, unexplained feeling of icy fear was now making Laars’ head feel swimmy, “Do you think he had something to do with the accident?” The freaky accident, where Laars was convinced he and his mother had flown away from the car wreckage for months afterwards and had been taken to a therapist for PTSD – because of course he and his mother couldn’t have flown. That wasn’t normal.

  “Oh, no. No.” his mother assured him, although Laars wasn’t convinced. She sounded too scared to be telling the truth, “Just maybe cool your engines around him, okay?”

  He chuckled, “I’m not about to fall in love with Saul Blackthorn,” he said.

  “No, of course you’re not, darling.” His mother replied, “Just be careful, okay?”

  Laars swallowed, “Okay.” He agreed.

  Chapter 7 – Ridiculous…

  Saul

  No. Of course he hadn’t summoned his new friend. Tha
t would be ridiculous. Never, in all the years since his magic was supposed to have kicked in (which was usually around seven or eight but was sometimes even younger than that in really powerful families) had he ever been able to perfect the summoning charm. Hell, he’d never perfected anything. He could just about master the very basics, but to be fair, he usually cheated on those, since most of the basics were down to mind manipulation and he gave himself nosebleeds with the effort it took – and he did so hate the sight of blood…

  “Right.” He smiled at Laars who gazed back at him with an adoring expression, which was well weird since absolutely no one (including his mother, who was supposed to look at him like that) had looked at him that way ever. As weird as it might be, it was also really kind of thrilling and excitement buzzed in his veins at the idea of spending the whole evening with him, getting to know each other better, “Shall we head out for a drink, then?”

  Laars nodded, “Absolutely – what’s your favourite poison?” he asked playfully.

  Saul grinned, “Arsenic, generally, but I’d go with Cyanide if I wanted to get rid of someone quickly.”

  Laars blinked, “I uh, only meant what do you drink.”

  Saul blushed. Trust him to take it literally. Still, poisons had to be handled with care. “Right, right.” He said, “Uh, I’ll have…” He had absolutely no clue. Nothing here in the human world resembled what he was used to in the magical world.

  “Beer?” Laars asked, looking amused.

  Saul nodded, “Sure.” He squeaked.

  They found a table and went to sit down. Laars passed Saul his pint of beer and sat down opposite him, “What do you think?” he asked, nodding to the pint.

  Saul picked it up and sniffed at it, “It smells a bit funny.” He said.

  Laars smiled across the table at him, “Haven’t you ever had a drink before?”

  Saul looked back at him, slightly affronted, “Of course I have.” He said slightly haughtily. Honestly. Did Laars think he was some sort of novice? He’d been as drunk as a skunk on two occasions. Once, when he and his classmates passed all of their Ordinary Level Magic exams – something he’d celebrated with gusto since he’d really not expected to attain any of them – and then he got drunk to blot out the misery of his father’s overwhelming disappointment when he failed all of his Advanced Level Magic exams. “I just haven’t drunk beer before, that’s all.”

  “So, what do you usually drink?”

  “Gin.” He replied.

  Laars’ smile widened, “Ahhh,” he said approvingly, “You like cocktails?” his eyes danced wickedly, taking Saul’s breath away with his stunning beauty. He got even better looking when he smiled like that. Saul was completely enchanted.

  Saul nodded, “I have to admit, I do love a cocktail.” He said, going a little pink. “My dad thinks there’s something wrong with me.” Understatement of the millennium. He thought there was a lot wrong with him, but he wasn’t about to list his failings to his new friend. For starters, he wanted to make the best impression on him that he was capable of; secondly, there was no way he could explain that he was from a magical world – Laars just wouldn’t understand. Let’s face it, he’d think he was absolutely crazy.

  Laars looked at him, his face serious, “Your dad clearly doesn’t know you very well.” He said.

  Saul blinked, “He doesn’t know me at all.” He said in a small voice. His Dad being in the position he was in at the Pyramid, had to liaise often with the government of the normal human world and he probably recognised that he was gay, since there were plenty of them in the normal world. But he would never acknowledge it with his ridiculous desire for his children to make good matches with families that had ‘good blood lines’.

  It was completely futile, of course. Saul simply wasn’t interested in girls… Swallowing down a sigh, he shot a smile at Laars.

  Laars smiled back at him, “I believe you.” He said, “And there’s nothing wrong with you at all for liking Gin. Loads of people do.” He leaned across the table and looked Saul straight in the eye, taking his breath away completely, “I want to get to know you.” He said, “I want to know everything there is to know about you.”

  Oh, wow.

  Chapter 8 – The witching hour…

  Laars

  Walking back to his digs, Laars couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He and Saul had talked about all sorts of things all night and both of them were surprised when they realised that it was already midnight.

  “The witching hour,” Laars said as the got to their feet and headed for the door, “Better get you indoors before someone steals you away from me.”

  Saul giggled, “You really have no idea about witches.” He murmured before tripping over his own feet and bumping into Laars back. “Oops. Sorry.” He gasped, “I think I’m a little drunk.”

  Laars grinned as he recalled the feeling of Saul’s warm body leaning against his all the way back to his digs. He’d been more than a little drunk. He was absolutely slaughtered.

  “Where’s your key?” Laars asked when they got back to his door.

  “In my pocket.” Said Saul, “I’ll get it.” He tried and failed to put his hands into his very tight jeans pockets. He looked up at Laars, “A little help.” He beseeched him.

  Laars swallowed, “I can’t put my hands in your pockets, mate.” He said firmly.

  “You can.” Saul slurred, “I won’t mind. Honest.”

  But I might lose control of my emotions and try to kiss you. Laars shook his head, “No.” he said firmly, “They’re far too tight. How the hell did you get them on?”

  Saul eyed him mischievously, “I think I might have used a little magic.” He said before dissolving into a fit of adorable giggles.

  As it turned out, he hadn’t locked the door at all, and when he leaned against the door, it had opened of its own accord.

  “Oh, will you look at that,” Laars said in relief, “You’re in.”

  He helped Saul inside and plonked him down on the bed. Leaning over him, he kissed his forehead and then left him to sleep it off.

  Walking back to his digs, however, he couldn’t help feeling as if he should turn back around and go and check on his new friend. What if he needed to throw up? What if he choked on his own vomit and died?

  Don’t be stupid, he told himself sternly, he’ll be absolutely fine and you’ll see him in the morning.

  It was totally irrational to want to hotfoot it back to him but he just didn’t seem able to help himself.

  He turned right around and ran back up the hill to Saul’s complex. He found his way with ease to Saul’s door and banged on it.

  Saul’s cute little face appeared at the door and Laars instantly felt better, “Oh,” he squeaked, “it’s you.”

  Laars nodded, “I uh,” he started, desperately casting around for some reason to have run all the way back to see him; just to make sure he was okay. “Did I leave my earphones here?”

  Saul blinked his massive eyes and turned around, “I don’t think so.” He said slowly. “But I’m still kind of out of it, so…”

  Laars couldn’t help noticing his perfect, tanned skin. He was so smooth he almost looked shiny. He had a towel tied around his hips. He’d obviously just stepped out of the shower as he still had droplets of water on his shoulders. Laars had a mad desire to lick them off him. Jesus. What the hell was wrong with him today? He never usually lusted after geeky young men he’d just met…

  Saul smiled up at him, “Well, since you’re back here and it almost one o’clock, how about you crash here for the night?”

  Laars nodded. Best idea ever as far as he was concerned, “Sure,” he agreed, “I’ll uh, take the chair.”

  Saul snorted, “Fuck off.” He said, “It’s a double bed! We’ll have loads of room. Once I’m asleep, I never move until I wake up again. I promise not to kick you in my sleep.”

  Laars found himself grinning back at him, “Fine.” He said, “Thanks.”

  *
<
br />   “So, what do your parents do?” Laars asked. He was lying next to Saul and if he was honest, the closeness was doing things to him that he hoped against hope, Saul wouldn’t notice.

  Saul turned to look at him, blinking at the directness of Laars’ question. “Um, Mum’s a pharmacist and my Dad… He uh, he works in, uh, local government.” He answered. “What about yours?”

  Laars took a deep breath and looked back at Saul, his beautiful, dark eyes seemed to be able to see right into his soul and he briefly wondered if he already knew what he was going to say. The idea was fanciful, there was no doubt about it – and yet it was as thrilling as it was unnerving. “Dad died when I was just a little kid of four or five. I can’t really remember much about him – save for the stories Mum tells me. Mum’s actually retired on ill health but she used to be a police officer.”

  Saul reached down for Laars’ hand. Finding what he was looking for, he closed his fingers around Laars’ warm hand. He squeezed. “Things have been tough for you, then,” He said, his face full of sympathy, “How did your dad die?”

  Laars shrugged. There was no way he could tell Saul that he felt that his father had saved him and his mother by sacrificing himself but that was really the way he felt about it, “It was a car accident.” He said softly, “We were coming home from holiday. Another car was coming down the motorway in the dark the wrong way. The driver had apparently taken a wrong turn and in his confusion had ended up on the wrong side of the carriageway – Mum and I were…” he faltered. How should he word it? “We were both thrown from the vehicle to safety when it rolled, but unfortunately, Dad was killed outright. The driver of the other car died, too.”

  Saul’s hand felt absolutely right in his as he recounted the events of the accident, “What injuries did you and your mum have?” he asked, his eyes roving all over Laars body as he asked, making Laars heart rate beat a little faster than usual.