Martin was a professor in physics at the University of Thales, and, as one would expect of such a person, he is incredibly smart. He knows things I have less idea about than psychology, which is another thing I don’t know about -- only Martin makes it look like psychology is child’s play when compared to physics.

I think it was that part of him that made him attractive, he is also not a bad looker. Martin was slightly taller than me, he had very neatly cut and cared dark brown hair combed to one side. He regularly shaves, but I must admit that with his cubic face and strong chin, it’s when he has left his facial hair a bit unattended when he looked the best to me. He didn’t have a strong build, but it was obvious that he used to be fit, and does exercise often. The man somewhat maintains his figure despite being academic. Big points for that.

Healthy mind on a healthy body? Yes, oh Mary, yes.

I just realized how much I actually liked this guy. Besides being smart and cute, he also has a terrific personality -- oh, well at least to me. He is quick in his mind, makes small jokes here and there, and manages to be flirty without being too strong with it. Mostly upbeat and optimistic, something I lack, but he is capable of rubbing it on me and make it stick. I tend to follow his lead most of the time, which might be part of his charm.

Oh, boy, do I like being lead on? Is that what I like? I’m a wizard, I’m supposed to dictate where things are supposed to go. But with Martin, I might just enjoy that he can be that sort of leader.

I’m not really sure what to think of it, other than I found that attractive, but also concerning. Gee, I’m enjoying it way too much.

“Eddy?” Martin says waving a hand in front of my face, “Hey, are you alright?”

“Sorry, I just… sort of spaced out in thought,” I apologized and began feeling a little bit hot. I hope it doesn’t show on me. I was thinking too much about him right on his face. That’s embarrassing. Stupid Hayier made me think too much about things.

“That’s alright,” he forgave me, “happens to me, too. But as I was saying: are you going to continue looking for your nephew tomorrow? Isn’t it too dangerous even for you two?”

“Ah, don’t worry abou--” I began saying. Here’s the thing about guys: we know very well when we bullshit each other. We don’t say it but we do let others know. And having your love interest be that guy makes it hard to give words of comfort. “Yes, it might just be, but what can I do?”

“You’re taking Ted with you. That’s the least you could do.”

“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to handle the situation, you know?” I began spilling out my frustration. “I’ve never done this. I don’t want to do it. I wish I could put it aside and let it be resolved by itself but it won’t. I’m afraid. But I have to do something. I’m the only one… we are the only ones.” I looked at Martin straight at his eyes and then concluded. “I would ask you to help, but…” I gestured with my hands at him, as if presenting something. “You know… I don’t mean you’re useless. But you’d be more trouble than help out there in the field. I don’t want to put someone else in danger.” I began turning red. “I don’t want to put you in danger.”

“I’d be offended if I didn’t know what you meant with that.” He sighed while scratching his head. “It’s frustrating, you know? Having a friend and having no way to help. That’s what makes this infuriating.”

“I know what you mean.”

“I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at this.” He gestured, pointing at an invisible thing between us, as if he was conjuring our relationship into existence and showcasing the problem that binds us. “I wish I were useful to you.”

“We all want to be useful to others. To our people, especially.”

“It’s uncomfortable when you can’t offer anything.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re still much better help being yourself than anyone I know.” I began laughing thinking about my friends. “Hayier here only serves me booze, as if beer is going to solve my problems or make me forget. And Ted is a massive prick. Between an alchemist and a radera, he barely understands us.”

Martin laughed at the comments as I poked fun at my friends. “That’s not his fault, though.”

“But you…” I continued. “You’ve always been a pal, despite everything. I wish I could offer you more than just this.”

“Just what? Yourself?” He had a look that practically screamed ‘I’m offended.’

“I’m not much. I don’ have a nice place, I work at an auto mechanic shop. I didn’t even go to university. I don’t have much money. I don’t have much to offer if I’m being honest.”

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

“And you think I need more than that? More than you already are?”

I looked at Martin, feeling embarrassed. I didn’t know what to say. So I kept quiet and kept looking, expectant. I rubbed my fingers on my glass of beer, nervous and fidgety.

“What makes you believe I’m looking for something in you? We’ve known each other for a long time. We’re guys. We know that we don’t really need something from the other. All we care about is this.” He opened his arms as if to show the bar, but it really meant something more specific, smaller in a physical sense, but bigger in a metaphorical one. “Us. Our relationship. Would you ask more from me?”

“No,” I said as if I was being scolded.

“I wouldn’t either, from you,” he said and moved his hand to hold mine.

I almost pulled it away out of surprise and embarrassment, but something made me stop. The warmth of his hand, the firm but delicate embrace of his hold, and the strong conviction in himself and me.

I smiled. “Look at you. You were the one feeling insecure, not a minute ago, because you couldn’t help me. But here I am, being helped by you because I am the one feeling insecure.” I turned my hand around below his and held his in my own too. “Thanks. For being there for me always.”

“Always.”

We stared at each other for a moment longer than we normally would. There were several tugs in me. One was the emotional one, the sudden realization of something. My brain hardwire to calculate and estimate, it used my feelings to tell it was time, and that he was the one. Love, some people call it. I call it… nothing special in particular, love works fine for me too.

The other tug was magical. Literally. I felt it in my body. A tingly sensation that stirred my magical senses. This was the magic I knew came from locking gazes with someone for a bit too long and having a magical link between the two. It wasn’t soul gazing (that had already happened), this was raw magical energy. It comes from the creation of magic, a small spark in the fabric that binds our world, the Power. Love creates magic, and a stare between lovers makes it happen.

Dammit, I love this guy, and I really want to take him right here, right now. That’s how it feels to be stirred by the strongest hormones in your body. I was feeling excited, but I had to control myself, I was in public, but the eye-staring was going for too long now, an instant too long to be comfortable without any action. I gave a glancing look to the rest of the bar and everyone was distracted.

“Oh, screw it!” I said, and just as I had finished my sentence Martin reached out to my shoulders, I began doing the same to his shirt just an instant before, and we pulled each other close.

The kiss was -- and I will exaggerate because that’s how it felt to me -- angelic. I don’t know how long it took for our lips to separate, but, to me, it felt like something between four and five eternities. It wasn’t anything like a French kiss or anything romantically violent. It was only our lips pressing against each other and I could feel the warmth between us, hotter than what his skin should have been. I could also smell him. He smelled of wood and concrete, of paper and ink. He smelled like a classroom and school. And he smelled like himself. That’s how I interpreted it.

When our lips finally separated I was so eager to pull him back to me, to recreate that moment a second time. I wanted to be trapped in it forever. Our faces distanced from each other just enough to let us see our eyes and lips. A creeping smile found its way to Martin’s lips and soon did to mine too.

When the small moment had passed and we were ready for the second round, we were interrupted by a baffling applause that surrounded us. Everyone in the bar was clapping and cheering as they looked at us.

“Hey! Nice!”

“About time!”

Those were what the comments amounted to. Some were more complex than others, but the meaning was mostly the same.

Hayier came close to us and popped open two beers in front of us. “On the house.” A small gesture, to be sure, but it made me feel like we were consummating our marriage.

We smiled, took the two bottles, and lifted them, addressing the whole bar and then toasted silently. Everyone took a swig of their own and then turned to their conversations. Some people talked a bit louder than others and it wasn’t hard to listen in. In fact, it was unavoidable to listen in.

“I was rooting for them all this time, what took them so long?” Said a woman behind Martin.

To which the man she sat with answered: “Well, it’s not always that easy for us, guys. But I’m glad they did it. I was beginning to think I’d have to force them myself!”

Martin laughed his usual whimsical, subtle chuckle, and took another swig of his beer. “This is some nice beer.”

I looked at my bottle and took one to confirm it. It was more than nice, it was fantastic. “It’s great!” I confirmed. “Hayier, where did you get this? The bottle doesn’t have a brand.”

“That’s a secret, Ed,” he winked and continued cleaning, without looking at me. “You should be concentrating on something else, though.”

I answered that with an embarrassed smile.

Everyone has made me blush today, I wasn’t quite liking it at all now. But I could forgive it. I was either helped by them, loved by them, or just generally lifted my spirit. I could give an exception to people making me feel uncomfortable and out of my wizard zone just for today.

Besides, I did have more important things to do today.

I sipped the last of my beer as I sat next to Martin silently. I’m guessing we both didn’t know what to do after what just happened. And I surely had no idea since my experience ended more than eight years ago when I was just a mutt little teen.

After drinking the whole bottle, I turned to Martin, determined to say what I had in mind. I hesitated instants before because I was scared that what I will do was not the right thing to do after all. But I’ve learned that if I don’t take the first step, I won’t do anything. So, I blurted out a “hey” at Martin, forcing myself to continue the call with anything at all. Since I had nothing else prepared and I definitely did not want to stop with a ‘no, it was nothing,’ I said what I was meaning to say and hoped that he was going to be okay with it.

“Want to go to my place?” I tried accentuating the offer with a smile to make him feel comfortable, but it ended up like a shy half-smile.

I think that made him more than comfortable because he produced that pretty chuckle of his, and smiled reassuringly at me.

“I’d love that,” he said.

“Yea,” I said smiling in relief. “Me too.”