Chapter 5: Resolution
The proximity of their bodies soaked up the early morning sun leaking through Shadwell's worn curtains. His frail heartbeat calmed as it sank into the rhythm of Job's hammering chest, mirroring their relaxed bodies lying in unison.
A single significance hung between them, heavy and intimate. It breathed life into the atmosphere, the tendrils enveloping them, forming around their sated sighs, and weaving an irremovable bond that transcended time.
The quiet seconds passed and transformed into minutes as they lay together, spent but far from finished; their lust-driven exploits had merely awakened within them an insatiable thirst for something much deeper.
Shadwell settled beside Job, snuggling and pulling the taller man close, toeing the fine line between friendship and the selfish need for something more. Job's heart thundered in his chest, his white hair splayed in every direction, as if God himself had reached down, running his fingers through it just moments before.
His brown eyes, full of insatiable curiosity, flickered as Shadwell's faded blue ones met his.
Hours had passed since their entanglement, and a languid smile broke across Job's lined face, filling Shadwell's quaint bed room with a sense of tranquility—something the Scotsman seldom experienced.
"Ye know Ah’m… Ah’m no much for religious philosophizing," Shadwell confessed, rolling over to face Job and tracing a rough, shaky finger across a deep line creasing Job's forehead. Truthfully, most of what he knew of the Good Book came from hazy memories as a child in church and listening to his old Witchfinder buddies rain fire and brimstone. He’d learned by ear and less by study.
Job grasped Shadwell's hand, giving a gentle squeeze to bring him back, eyes wide with curiosity. "But you worry the Almighty may frown upon our passion?"
"Well, old men like us must consider the state of their immortal souls, don't ye think?" Shadwell chuckled, revealing a roguish grin.
Job's lips curled into a knowing smile, talismans of mutual attraction and affection already knitting the two souls together. "Perhaps this is the lesson I've been sent here for. I thought I understand the depth of how much I did not know. But it runs deeper, doesn’t it? Man's understanding even of sin is flawed. God is the one who brought me to your time, who put us together, yes? Then if this”—Job ran a hand down Shadwell’s arm and still naked waist —“was a sin in God's eyes, I tell you true: I would burn no offering to repent."
Their love-making had stoked the flames of a hunger in Shadwell that ran deeper than just carnality. Job had brought forth a repressed yearning for intimacy and connection which Shadwell had long denied himself.
Their lovemaking had unlocked a new form of communication between them—one of profound affection and understanding beyond the casual banter they'd shared since meeting.
Despite the intensity of their tryst, a gentle cloud of serenity blanketed their hearts like the soft glow of dawn breaking through Shadwell's curtains. The unspoken promises exchanged in the silent space between them resonated, carrying the potential to kindle a meaningful relationship, growing into deeper commitment as time unfolded.
Though the weight of the passing moments gnawed away at them—Job's ticket back to ancient Uz was forever lurking—they wholeheartedly embraced the unfolding journey, refusing to let their transient love drown in the sea of uncertainty.
Seizing these purely intimate moments, Shadwell could almost forget about their inevitable separation. This was about cherishing the scarce time they had together, forging a connection that transcended their fleeting union—immortalizing a memory etched in their hearts, unmarked by Jesus' sandaled footprints.
And the anticipation of what the future held? That lingering question of 'what-ifs' and 'maybes'? It electrified their passionate encounters, rendering the invisible threads wrapping around them even tighter.
As fragile as their bond might have been, it bore the tenacity to pierce the veil of time injection—inflaming something much greater, transcending the peculiar circumstances that led to their improbable pairing.
Shadwell looked deeply into Job's eyes, teeming with the kindness of a man eternally favored by the divine. There was a quiet strength emanating from him, a celestial energy lingering around his aura like a magnetic sheen.
As the brisk sunlight streamed through Shadwell's dilapidated windows, his gaze drifted towards disheveled piles of books and antiquated tools haphazardly strewn across the apartment.
A wistful smile graced his lips at the sight of a dusty, dog-eared book poking out from underneath an untidy stack. It was The Malleus Maleficarum, remnants of his days as a Witchfinder, tasked with eradicating supposed sorcery. Funny how those farcical notions seemed to vanish once Job arrived, guiding Shadwell to partake in different indulgent temptations.
But this wasn't merely about physical desires—their amorous pursuits had revealed something deeper. A craving for sincere companionship and affection awoke in Shadwell like never before, transcending his previous battle-worn existence.
Job lay there, his head on the pillow, eyes unblinking as he studied the unusual, worldly view offered by Shadwell's quarters. His heart was at ease, beating softly in rhythm with his gentle breaths, savoring the last of these stolen moments.
How soon would the precious gift of Job's presence be stolen away?
Job shifted atop the sheets, turning slowly to face Shadwell. "I have come to learn in my life that there are teachings from On High that transcend human comprehension. Often, those lessons are shrouded in mystery, flickering at the edges of colliding moments, and propelled by that divine breath which guides us to discover new terrains of the heart."
A newfound lightness filled Shadwell as he listened to Job spin these metaphysical yarns. The Scotsman could hardly recall such a moment of pure, unfiltered joy, even when he reminisced about his youthful escapades. From someplace within the recesses of his heart (long considered shriveled or blackened by those who didn't really know him), he'd unearthed something he had been deprived of his entire life: vulnerability.
In the gritty, bare-knuckled world of a Witchfinder and locksman thief, Shadwell never thought he'd open himself up – not to love, or even its sweeter, lingering sibling, friendship.
Yet the prospect of sharing more than just a few nights of passion thrilled him. The idea of growing old with someone, as they both leaned on a cane to shuffle across uneven cobblestones or shared their secrets and stories in the fading golden afternoons, filled him with brimming joy. Something inside him said that, if they were given the time for it, this strange man-out-of-Time would be worth any risk. It was only a shame he had a family to get back to, and that they didn't know when God would call him home back to ancient Uz.
For now, though, they would live in the moment, savoring the purity of an unexpected companionship. They would let no regret cloud these rare hours and days, where two beings from disparate worlds found each other.