Page 45 of Dangerous Pursuit
Only semi-aware of how to do it, I grab more or less half the deck and then suspend my hand in the air, not really sure what the protocol is.
Xander takes it from me, puts it on the bottom of the cards he’s holding, and starts shuffling twice as fast now. Then he continues, his voice low and melodic, "When I do a reading for someone far away, who's going to see it when they're going to see it, and there's no unity of time and space, you'd think they'd catch up quickly if it were a hoax. But it isn't. Because they're not coming for information." A card slips out of the deck and lands face-down on the mattress between us. Xander doesn't pick it up, but continues shuffling. "Because I don't have any information to offer. But I can offer a story, bits and pieces of universal truths, of life itself how I understand it." Another card flies out, landing silently beside the first. "And then, they can take those pieces and pick and choose the ones that fit and build their own story, a narrative that applies to their unique life in a way that's productive, that serves them, that gives them the tiny bit of drive and maybe, just maybe a sliver of hope that whateverthey're going through shall pass eventually and that there is some light at the end of the tunnel." Another card lands between us as Xander finishes his story. He puts the deck down, the cards settling with a soft rustle.
"Wow," I say after a few seconds, once the words sink in. "That's… It does make some sense when you put it like that. I think."
Xander shoots me a bright smile. "Good. If it didn't, there's always the fact I'm able to make rent money with it."
I chuckle. "Of course.” I lean back and take in the man I apparently know nothing about. "Now, can I touch you?"
"Absolutely not. And sit up straight. Have some respect for the cards."
He straightens up himself, lines the three cards that fell up in a row, face up, places his elbows on his knees and stares.
And stares.
And stares.
"Interesting," he finally says, his eyes still scanning the cards.
I stretch my neck to try to see whatever he's seeing, but even if the cards weren't upside down for me, I can't make anything out of the colorful images.
Xander scratches his chin and his expression is focused as he repeats, "Interesting."
Curiosity gets the best of me. "What is?"
"Nine of Pentacles, The Hanged Man, The World card," Xander says, clarifying absolutely nothing.
"A hanging man? That can't be good."
"A fresh perspective. Closing off the old cycle. Whether is has already happened, is happening now, or is going to happen, I can't tell. You saw something in a new light, and that helped you to move on, to overcome some barrier in your life that kept you stuck. And after that was done—" he picks up the first card on the left and waves it in front of my face, "—there's contentment. And not just that, things have fallen into place, and there's stability. Luxury even. But why?"
Xander's talking very fast now as he pulls another deck out of its box and starts frantically shuffling, his eyes scanning the row of cards in front of him back and forth, brows furrowed, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. A card calls out, and he turns it face up right away. "Three of Pentacles. Because you've put in the work. A lot of work." He continues to shuffle until another card flies out. "Two of Pentacles. And you found balance." And another. "The Hermit. And you did it alone. You had no help, because the work was yours and yours only." And another. "Eight of Wands. And all of this happened really fast. The Fool. And you took a leap of faith and followed your intuition, even though you had no idea what lay on the other side. The Emperor." As Xander turns over the, well, The Emperor, apparently, he puts down the rest of the deck, satisfaction written all over his face. "And now you're exactly where you needed to be to finally direct your life however you please."
I rest my chin on my palm and an involuntary smile creeps onto my face as I watch him nod, supposedly to himself and right now it's him who looks like an Emperor, full or life and passion and all the other things I wish I had more of. It's not until he arches an eyebrow that I realize it'd be polite to say something, preferably something to the effect ofWow,this really changed my life. Best I can do is, "That was quite… optimistic."
Without fail, Xander's expression swiftly morphs into feigned offense, just like I knew it would. "Optimistic? Really? All the hard, emotional work that might as well still be in front of you? But yeah, sure, let's have it your way." I suck in my lips to stop the barking laughter forming in my throat as Xander huffs, gathers up all the cards from the first deck he used and starts maniacally shuffling. "Let's see what your obstacle is."
"Wait, wait. I don't want no obstacles."
"Oh, it's too late now." Despite the obvious shit-shooting, I don't miss the sliver of satisfaction in Xander's voice as he says it. I never thought I'd find this level of dorkiness attractive, yet here I am, hypnotized by his ever-changing expressions, waiting on pins and needles for Xander to produce my obstacle like it's at all consequential.
A card falls out face down and Xander immediately flips it. "Ha!" He looks genuinely pleased, and I swear I'd give up all of my earthly riches to get a glimpse of his thought process right now. "Two of Cups. Just like I thought."
I tilt my head. "And what would that be?"
Xander raises his chin and grins. "Me. I'm your obstacle."
"Oh, really? Well, in that case…" I launch forward, grab the back of his knees and give them a strong tug, causing Xander to yelp and fall flat on his back, all within half a second. I pull him closer and drop to all fours, hovering over him. "I have to find a way to neutralize you."
Xander doesn't even let me lean down to go for the kiss, his head already flying up, his lips pressing against mine in ascorching kiss. I brace myself on my forearms on either side of his head, supporting both our weights as Xander puts both hands on the back of my neck, pulling himself up, keeping his head suspended in mid-air as he parts his lips, welcoming my tongue inside his mouth. I lift my lower body higher and shift the weight to my right side, dropping my left hand between us and grabbing his crotch.
His cock is already stiffening against my palm, heat penetrating the fabric of his slacks. Xander moans into my mouth as I palm his cock, his chest pressing against mine as he arches his back, leaning into my touch. Fuck, I missed this. I missed how his body reacts, howhereacts to me. How I'm able to direct his body, to play him like an instrument, to make him produce sounds I know are meant for me and for me only.
Xander lets go of my neck, his head falling down on the mattress, breaking the kiss. "Come back here," he mutters as he grabs the hem of my hoodie. I lean down before he can finish the thought, no natural force strong enough to keep me away from his lips. "It's warm. You don't need that," he says as he simultaneously tries to kiss me and pull my hoodie along with my t-shirt past my shoulders. With our mouths connected, and my hand still rubbing his more and more prominent erection, I grab his waist and roll us around, and for a few moments we're a messy bundle of limbs, and clothes and tongues. It's chaotic, but it suits us. Urgent, impatient and primal.
I'm almost out of breath by the time we roll around again and Xander finally manages to get the last of my t-shirt off me. "Ouch. For fuck's sake." Xander breaks our kiss and winces. He lifts his torso and pulls half of what used to be the slim stick and the slim stick holder.
I glance around the bed and take stock of the stew of cards, pillows, Tarot accessories, and my clothes. "Hold thatthought." I sit up and hastily gather everything that belongs on the desk while shoving my clothes and some of the pillows to the floor.
