(Author's note: Gala_apples and I decided to write another parallel Jyder prompt. One pairing, two stories, two points of view. This one is in honor of May 1, otherwise known in the Pagan community as Beltane or Beltaine. This is not meant to be didactic, but the details are as accurate as I could make them. Jake's mom is an eclectic practitioner, following no particular tradition. Happy Beltaine to all who celebrate. -amy)
"So, Wednesday." Ryder tossed the football at Jake, making him drop his backpack to catch it. "After Granger's history exam, after school? Epic hanging out at your house, where my sisters are not?"
Jake snickered before realizing the expectant expression on Ryder's face was not, in fact, ironic commentary. "Dude," he said. "It's May first."
Ryder caught the returned football without apparent effort. "So?"
"So, it's a big deal day in my family. Like Easter for you, kind of."
He tossed the ball into the air, giving it some spin. "But Easter's a religious holiday."
"Yeah," Jake said with exaggerated patience. "Exactly."
Ryder made it about halfway to the lunchroom before his feet stopped walking. His brows were knitted. Jake paused with a little grin, watching him work up the courage to ask.
"Who has a religious holiday on May Day? Freaking Druids?"
"No, we're Wiccan," Jake said. "The Druids are doing theirs in the grove in Columbus." He tried not to appear to enjoy Ryder's discomfort too much. "Look, don't worry about it. You don't have to know everything about me and my family."
Ryder shook this kind-of apology off like buzzing insects. "No, but I should know this. I know who everybody in Glee's parents' voted for in the last election. Religion's, like, the first thing you learn. And speaking of that, aren't you Jewish?"
"Half-Jewish." Jake held the door open for some freshmen. "My mom's a witch. I don't really get to decide if I want to be that or not until I'm an adult, but for now, it's pretty awesome."
"Yeah?" Ryder looked so perplexed. "Religion doesn't really go in the awesome box."
"Ours does," Jake promised. "Especially Beltaine. Look... you wanna check it out? It's a sabbat, there's an open circle; you don't have to be one of us to come."
Now he was definitely uncomfortable. "Thanks, but -"
"What, are you going to wash your hair or something?" Jake tried not to look annoyed. "I promise, if you ever invite me to Easter or Christmas mass or something, I won't freak out. Think of it like a big party, with some extra stuff."
Ryder asked about the "extra stuff" as Jake unlocked his bike, and Jake told him what he could. He had to admit, it sounded a little weird talking about it out of context, but he figured most religious stuff did.
"A bonfire?" Ryder brightened at that. "That's cool."
"Yeah, and there's a big maypole with dancing. Each person takes a ribbon and writes down what they want, for the coming year, and then ties it into the pole, and we... uh, kind of weave them together." Jake tried not to wince as he described the rite, but Ryder just nodded, unperturbed. He didn't seem bothered by the idea of dancing - which Jake should have expected from Ryder.
He still had no idea how to bring up the other part of Beltaine. The party-and-drink-till-you-fall-over part, Jake had assumed Ryder would tolerate, even if he wasn't a big drinker himself. But the part that came after that... it was harder to explain using words that made sense.
"You know what I mean by fertility ritual?" he tried. But Ryder was already climbing onto his bike.
"I'll be there," he said, pulling away from the curb. "My mom'll send something for the potluck."
Jake rode home in troubled silence and went into the house to talk to his own mom, who was putting another pan of hot cross buns into the oven.
"Ryder's coming for the circle," he said.
She smiled. "All right. You still want to call that quarter, or would that be too weird? I can give it to Elizabeth."
"No, no, it's cool. It's just..." He pulled a stool out and sat glumly at the counter while she cut crosses into the top of the buns. "Ryder's not much of a Catholic, but... he started out that way, right? And it's hard to give up what you start with, so unless he wanted to give it up -"
"Jake." His mom's gentle voice cut him off, and he looked away, blushing. "Is this for Ryder or for you?"
He didn't know how to answer that either, but his mom didn't make him. She did give him a mostly-cooled bun, breaking it in half to slather it with butter.
"Well," she said at last. "If you guys get drunk and decide to -"
"Mom!"
"- then at least wake me up so I can call you in sick. Or something. I really don't need social services after me for contributing to the delinquency of somebody else's minor, no matter how cool my son thinks he is."
Jake escaped to his room with the remains of the bun to avoid further torture and practice his part. He wasn't much of an actor, but he wasn't going to be able to read a piece of paper outside after dark, so he might as well know his lines.
Ryder wasn't the first one to arrive, but he was early enough to have to stand around awkwardly with Jake, watching the motley crew as they trickled into the backyard.
"Deviled eggs," he said, holding them up. "A fertility symbol. Not meant to be a commentary on your religion. I tried Googling about it but it was way too many words."
Jake laughed, feeling surprised and a little moved. "Thanks," he said, meaning it. He took the eggs and set them on the counter next to Elizabeth's samosas. "We've got about a half hour before we start. There's a guitar in the family room, but we could just hide out in my room if you'd rather."
He watched Ryder's reaction with a sudden stab of anxiety, realizing only belatedly how that might sound. But of course, Ryder wouldn't think it was anything other than a friendly offer. Not a proposition, he told himself firmly.
"Hey, I can make music in front of anybody," said Ryder, with a little false bravado. The implied even a bunch of weirdos was clear, but Jake didn't take it personally. Ryder took a half-egg, popped it into his mouth, and chewed determinedly. Then he watched Jake, eyebrows raised, waiting for his lead, and together they walked into the family room.
Jake acknowledged that his mom's covenmates were a little on the eccentric side, but he felt more defensive of them than he was embarrassed by them. More than one of the guys had long beards, even though that had gone out of style long before any of them they were born, and the conversation was mostly about scientific discoveries instead of sports teams. Elizabeth showed them pictures of the Morris dancing she and her husband Peter had gone to see that morning. Ryder knew how to be polite, at least, and he listened and nodded.
"That's, like, a religious dance?" he asked.
Elizabeth shook her head, grinning. "Nah. Traditional seasonal, yes, but it's only been around for about five hundred years - which, by the way, is about four hundred and twenty years longer than this religion's been around."
"Heresy," Jake's mom exclaimed, but she was grinning, too. She put a hand on Ryder's back. "Don't listen too hard to this one's theology. We're here to celebrate the season, that's all. Eat, drink and make merry, okay?"
Ryder watched them walk out on the deck with bemusement. "They don't seem to take themselves too seriously."
"Totally," Jake agreed. "I kind of like it that way." He picked up the acoustic guitar from its stand in the corner and strummed a rousing introduction. "Better than hymns, trust me."
youtu. be / 4z3wUFYWzew
On a fresh May morning, I took my love to church
To see if Parson Pruneface was properly a-perched
The sermon scarcely started, someone began to snore
When like a sunlit sea wave
A green and crimson wave
A band of merry May folk came a-whooping through the door, singing:
"Come up, come in with streamers
Come in with boughs of May
Come green and white and trip the lawn
Till night becomes the day
Jump up and dance the Tom-fool
Jump up and duck and leap
Jump up and wake the people that
The parson puts to sleep."
A couple other people sang along on the chorus, which seemed to startle Ryder, but he had a faint smile on his lips as the story wound on to its conclusion, and he clapped for Jake when he was done.
"So, it sounds like you're saying Christianity and what you guys believe, they're not so different?"
Jake shrugged, setting the guitar back on its stand. "Maybe the song says that; I don't know if I'd say that. It's just a song. Anyway, this religion, it's not really about what we believe. It's about what we do. And that's... pretty different."
Ryder's discomfort with what they were doing became more and more evident as they walked outside and joined the others in the circle on the grass. The backyard was fenced, private enough. Jake knew his neighbors were aware of the big scary witches next door dancing around the fire, and they'd always been cool about it. But Ryder looked positively spooked, glancing around himself nervously.
"Don't worry, man," Jake murmured, "nobody's going to tell you to take your clothes off or anything."
Ryder's eyes widened, and Jake nudged him with his shoulder, snorting. He blew out a breath, rolling his eyes. "Fuck, I thought you were serious."
"I'm not saying I know what the grownups do when the kids aren't around," Jake said, "but we're totally cool in jeans." He reached into the basket that Elizabeth brought around and took out a length of wide cloth ribbon and a marker; Ryder followed suit. They sat down on the grass.
"What am I supposed to do again?" Ryder held out the ribbon. He'd chosen a blue one. Jake's was orange. "Write something on here?"
"The stuff you want, for the coming year. Things you want to... grow. To increase, to be fruitful in your life. Like, the idea is, if you could have anything you wanted, even the crazy stuff you never thought you could have, what would it be?"
Ryder twiddled the marker. "Like a big-ass birthday candle. Okay, yeah, I can do that." He stuck the cap on the end, chewed on his lip and began to write.
Jake remembered doing this six times before. He'd probably danced the maypole more times than that, but the one that stood out in his memory as the first time had been the year he'd written Power Tour Electric Guitar about eight thousand times on both sides of the ribbon. When he'd found it waiting for him next to the breakfast table on his birthday, a month later, he thought he'd invented the wheel or something. He eventually figured out it didn't quite work like that, and probably didn't work at all, but his mom always said, Focused thought can change you, even if it can't change the world. So he kept asking for the crazy stuff. Even if he didn't think he was ever going to get it.
"I'm not praying to anybody for this, am I?" Ryder asked, sounding anxious. "I'm guessing there are rules about that for Christians, or something."
"You're putting the energy out there," said Jake. The words felt funny on his lips, after hearing them said so many times by Elizabeth and his mom and everybody else in the circle. "More like a statement of intent than a request. This is what you want."
"This is what I want," Ryder echoed, resuming his laborious writing. "Okay. Yeah."
Jake didn't ask for stuff like guitars anymore at Beltaine. His mom said it was okay to ask for things, but that he'd need to back it up with actions, and give it time. Plant the seed, nurture it, maybe add a little fertilizer, and then... stand back.
His marker moved more quickly than Ryder's, and he ran out of ribbon first, but he waited for Ryder to finish before beckoning him over to approach the twelve-foot staff planted in the ground beside the altar. They tied the ribbons to the remnants of last year's ribbons at the top of the pole, and let them drape down with the others, floating in the light breeze.
"Some years it's still snowing on Beltaine," said Jake, squinting over the fence at the setting sun. "It's kind of awesome to be in circle, outside, without a coat."
Ryder tucked his hands into his pockets, watching Elizabeth set up the altar, walking barefoot through the grass. "No church building," he said. "No prayer books. No dressing up?"
"Some people do," said Jake. "Every group kind of sets their own rules. Elizabeth's pretty laid back, at least when it comes to open circles like this. You don't have to do anything that feels weird."
He wanted to stand closer to Ryder, put a hand on his shoulder, like his mom had done, but he thought that might be weirder than not touching him, so he let him alone to be uncomfortable, until Peter rang the bell and they tightened the circle around the altar.
"You're supposed to, uh, stand between two girls," Jake said. Ryder looked across the circle at the two college-age women waiting there.
"Can't I just stay here?" he asked.
"It's a gender balance thing," Jake tried again, but Elizabeth had already stepped forward to stand beside Peter in front of the altar, smiling at the dozen-plus people assembled around them.
"It's fine, Jake," she said. "Glad you could join us, Ryder."
Ryder mumbled thanks. When Elizabeth led them in the opening chant, he didn't sing along, even though it was simple and he could definitely have figured it out. Jake was glad Ryder was taking his comment seriously about not doing things that made him uncomfortable.
Elizabeth smiled, turning to Peter, and held out her hand. "I offer my hand in perfect love and perfect trust."
Peter took it, then turned to Jake's mom, standing beside him, and said the same words. Ryder's eyes tracked the hands as they formed the circle. When it got to Jake, he swallowed.
"I... offer my hand," he said, nudging Ryder's, "in perfect love and perfect trust. And shut up." He hissed this last at Barb, standing beside him on the right. She squeezed his hand.
"I didn't say anything," she protested, but she was practically snickering when she said it, and Jake let out a gusty sigh.
"They're just picking on me because I've always been Tanisha's kid and they've known me for a million years. It's not personal." He brandished his fingers again. "Just take it, okay?"
Ryder looked like he might burst into laughter himself, but he grabbed Jake's hand without complaint. His palm was warm and a little sweaty, and the grip was strong. Gallantly, he turned to Renee on his left, repeating the words and taking her hand. When they had completed the circle and dropped their hands, he seemed more himself, and he listened to Jake and the three other volunteers invoke the four directions in calm silence.
It was strange, watching Elizabeth and Peter form the circle, as Jake had seen them do a hundred times, through Ryder's eyes. He'd been to Christian churches for weddings, twice, and a funeral, once. His mom said he never had to go to synagogue unless he wanted to, and he'd never had a bar mitzvah. This, right here, was what he was accustomed to, what felt ordinary to him - even though he was pretty sure none of it was really ordinary at all. It made Jake's chest tight to imagine that Ryder might decide he was a freak because of something he did without even thinking about it.
But Ryder wasn't freaking out. He just watched what everybody else did and followed along. When they circled around one at a time to stand before Elizabeth to be charged with incense and anointed with salt water, he let her touch his forehead and chest with two fingers. He gave Jake a tentative smile when they returned to their place in the circle.
The sun had gone down completely by the time they moved the altar aside and came forward to find their ribbons on the maypole. The candles at the quarters flickered and provided barely enough light to see, but the colors were nearly obliterated in the dark. Jake wasn't sure which ribbon was his; he picked up the ribbons and sifted through them, peering at the words. Suddenly, the letters JAKE leapt out at him; it took him another five seconds to remember he hadn't written his own name on his ribbon.
"Here," said Jake, feeling a little numb, passing the ribbon he held over to Ryder. "This one's yours." It must be, anyway, he thought to himself, because that sure as shit wasn't mine, and everybody else has theirs, and - what did you write about me anyway?
They stood at arm's length, facing one another, holding out their ribbons. Jake could see, in the shifting candlelight, Ryder's familiar face looking very unfamiliar indeed.
"You're going to - um, walk under my ribbon." He pointed, demonstrating with his own. "Then you'll go over the next one, and under, and so on."
They didn't always sing the same song as they wove the maypole, but there was a small enough sampling of traditional tunes that Jake could have guessed which one Elizabeth would pick. But she surprised him, anyway.
"You choose the chant, Jake." She nodded to him across the circle. "What'll we sing?"
He took a startled breath and broke into a wobbly chorus of "Padstow" that gradually grew stronger as he went on:
youtu. be / RQA2umoCcSQ
Unite, and unite, and let us all unite
For summer is a-comin' today
And whither we are going we all will unite
In the merry morning of May
Jake was even more surprised to hear Ryder singing the words back to him as they circled the pole. It was somewhat unnerving to witness these pieces of his childhood - the traditional song, the comforting dance, the familiar people with whom he'd grown up - juxtaposed with Ryder's strong, melodic voice. The song went on, gaining momentum as their ribbons grew shorter, and as people got closer together they began to drop out and clap and drum along while the last few ducked over and under one another, laughing. Ryder was among the last to capitulate, his long arms and dexterity giving him an advantage, but in the end he, too, dropped out and clapped the last chorus.
The last part of the circle was the easiest to share. As Elizabeth uncorked the bottle of wine that was stashed under the east quarter stand and poured some into the glass on the altar, Ryder leaned over to him. "What - is this like communion? Body and blood?"
"Dude, gross." Jake couldn't help but make a face. "It's wine. You know, wine? I'd much rather drink that than blood. Don't tell me you're a vampire, because I don't think I can handle it."
Ryder stared at him for a second, then snorted, shaking his head. "You don't hear me knocking your religion, do you? What if I think it's all bullshit anyway?"
"Then it's all bullshit," said Jake. "Whatever. You don't have to believe anything. I don't know how much of it I believe, either. Pagans do it because it feels good."
When the wine bottle came around and Jake poured the last into his own cup, he definitely caught a disappointed expression on Ryder's face before Peter came around with the first replacement bottle. Peter uncorked it expertly and topped off Jake's cup, offering the bottle to Ryder with a smile.
"You guys have school tomorrow?" asked Peter. Ryder looked over at Jake quizzically.
"My mom usually lets me decide if I'm too tired to go in the next day," he explained, carefully not thinking about his mom's suggestion. "But you might not feel okay about skipping school for somebody else's religious holiday."
Ryder hesitated one more moment before holding out his own cup. "Just a little," he cautioned. But he drained it pretty quickly, and Jake wasn't going to stop him from asking Peter for more. The whole point of Beltane was excess, his mom had explained. You're filled with the energy of the season, pent up all winter, and now it's time to get it out there and let it do some work. Jake could feel it, itching in his limbs, the desire to make something happen - to create.
He did pause beside his mom on his way to fill his plate of food to hug her and ask, "Uh... did you tell Ryder's mom there might be drinking tonight?"
"Might?" she laughed, wrinkling her nose. He rolled his eyes at her, which just made her laugh harder. "Who's the parent in this relationship again?"
"Mom," he said pointedly, "I'd rather not invite Ryder over just to get him in trouble with his parents. His dad's kind of an ass."
"Relax," she soothed. "I took care of it. Mrs. Lynn and I had this conversation already."
Jake blinked. "What? When -?"
"Weeks and weeks ago." She gave him a pat and a little push toward the food table. "You're not as subtle as you think you are. Go, get a samosa before they're all gone. And Ryder's eggs are delicious."
Jake returned several minutes later to sit beside Ryder, who'd filled his own place. "Dude," Ryder enthused, "this is the best potluck I've ever been to. You pagans know how to eat." He paused, looking up at Jake. "Hey, man... everything okay?"
Sure, other than my mother is apparently scheduling my booty calls for me. He shook his head, trying to clear it of confusing thoughts, and took a bite of a deviled egg. They were indeed delicious. They sat and ate and drank in silence for a while, listening to the sounds of frogs and trees and far-away traffic.
"You going to play something, Jake?" asked Peter. Ryder looked over at him, finishing his cup - that must have been his third refill. Jake ducked away from all the eyes, but of course he wasn't going to say no.
"I'm the guitar guy," he said apologetically.
Ryder grinned. "Well, now you've got another guitar guy. You want me to take a turn?"
"Um - sure?" Jake wasn't sure how to respond. "I mean, you don't know the music, but... whatever you want to play, I guess?"
His mom was already passing him the guitar; somebody had retrieved the instrument from the family room. Jake let Ryder take it from his hands. "Yeah, I didn't have time to throw much together, but there are a couple songs in my repertoire that might fit the bill. Spring is spring, right?"
"Right," agreed Jake, completely mystified. The song wasn't familiar to any of them, but the circle was silent, listening while Ryder played:
www. youtube watch?v=vt_dtS3Hnfg
The day will begin like any other
Another sunrise in the east
It will reach across and touch you like a lover
It will tease you from a dream
And opening your eyes you will surrender
To the light that fills the room
And the hope that you have carried since September
You will offer up to June
Maybe will be certain
You can take it as a vow
Winter's just the curtain
Spring will take the bow
Jake knew Ryder was a good athlete, a good dancer. It was easy to forget what a good musician he was. Jake lost himself a little, watching his hands on the frets, throwing in some complicated fingerpicking patterns that would have driven Jake crazy to figure out. And sitting this close to him, while he said things like touch you like a lover, was already making him a little crazy.
Looking out your window you will wonder
At the blooming in your yard
And every opening flower will be a mirror
Of the quickening in your heart
Maybe will be certain
You can take it as a vow
Winter's just the curtain
Spring will take the bow
Winter's just the curtain
Spring will take the bow
Ryder smiled in appreciation as the circle applauded.
"You're coming back, right?" said one of the college girls.
"Maybe," he said. "I might."
The eating part usually happened just before the end of the circle, but on Beltaine, the celebration was a little different. Jake didn't need to explain the cosmology behind the idea of casting the circle around the house and the yard, or open himself to the usual jokes about "keeping it up all night." He just pointed to the tents already pitched in various locations around the half-acre, and said, "A lot of people stay over tonight. If you want to. My, um... my mom already checked with your mom."
He wasn't sure if Ryder was just drunk enough for this to seem like an ordinary offer, or if he'd already had that conversation with his mom, but Ryder only nodded, smiling and sanguine. "Sounds good. You got a tent?"
Already pitched, Jake almost said, but that really would introduce the potential for some uncomfortably accurate teasing. Instead, he wandered over to the tent on the far side of the fire, crackling merrily. Putting a hand on the zipper made him wonder what Ryder was going to think about this - one tent, two sleeping bags... the assumptions were already tumbling down around him. He sighed, rubbing his forehead. Time for more wine.
He wasn't the only one to end up seated around the fire, singing and passing number five or six of the bottles of wine around. Nobody was checking how much had been drunk, and Jake was barely aware of how much he'd consumed himself.
"I drank at last year's Beltaine," he confided in Ryder, who was starting to look a little blurry. "First time I was old enough. There was kissing."
"Yeah?" Ryder looked interested, peering around as he took another sip. "With who?"
Jake busied himself with tuning. "Not here," he said vaguely. He. He's not here, and my mom totally caught us making out on my bed and gave me the talk right in front of him, and practically threw condoms at us before shutting the door. He grinned at the memory.
Ryder cocked his head. "Does Marley know? I mean, about - the kissing?"
"Well, that was last year, way before we got together. But yeah, I've explained about Beltaine, and she gets it, I think."
"What about Beltaine?"
"Um." Jake shuffled his feet in the dirt. "This is the part where it might have paid off to do that reading before showing up here."
"Huh?"
He gestured across the circle. Ryder followed the path of his hand, somewhat unsteadily, and settled on the couple sitting practically on each other's laps, mouths mashed together.
"So, fertility religion," said Jake. "Not actually about sex, but... it's a convenient metaphor."
Ryder didn't take his eyes off the couple. When he spoke again, his voice was a little more hoarse. "Don't you mean the ritual is a metaphor for sex?"
"No. I mean sex is a metaphor for the ritual. It's about creativity, not about procreation. Point in fact." He nodded at the couple again, and waited for Ryder to get it.
"I - oh." He dropped his voice, needlessly, because Elizabeth and Barb weren't stopping for anything. "Those are two girls."
"Yeah. Gender's kind of a metaphor, too, even if it's not always binary. So are most things, when you come right down to it. There's lots of opposites out there - two halves to a whole?" Jake leaned back and strummed the guitar, letting XTC's lyrics speak for him:
www. youtube watch?v=Nuk8Ie8i3Pw
I've got the plow if you've got the furrow
I've got the rabbit if you've his burrow home
I've got the pen if you've got the paper
Time is but clay and I'll see you and the wheel turn
You and the wheel turn
And if the pot won't hold our love
Then we'll dash it to the ground
And if the pot won't hold our love
We'll build one bigger all around
Goes the wheel
Ryder's eyes were wide and dilated, his mouth hanging open as he listened.
"That's pretty... um." He shifted on the log. "Explicit?"
Jake tried not to smirk. "I was going to say dirty, but sure."
I've got the seed if you've got the valley
I've got the big stick if you've Aunt Sally's head
I've got the time if you've got the motion
Time is but clay and I'll see you and the wheel turn
You and the wheel turn
There was a whole second half of the song, about a maypole and about the nature of death and how everything comes to an end, but that wasn't the point Jake was trying to make, and he kind of wanted to stop and explain how it's not actually cheating on Beltaine, and that there was a whole long history behind fucking in the fields to make the crops grow, but before he could even set his guitar down and say a word, Ryder was leaning over and kissing him.
Jake made a noise that must have sounded like complaining, because Ryder broke away, looking a little surprised at himself, but Jake slipped the guitar safely into the grass, murmuring, "No, no, don't stop, c'mere..."
His hand slid up the hard planes of Ryder's chest to touch his face and cup his neck, pulling their bodies together. He had no idea if it was the season or the wine or the fact that this was Ryder, here under his hands, making the first move, but he could scarcely restrain himself from knocking him to the ground and getting off right there against his hip.
"You -" Ryder gasped against Jake's jaw, lips dragging on the skin of his neck, "this - this is okay?"
"Everything," Jake promised, "and anything. As long as you want it."
The noise Ryder made wasn't quite a groan and not quite a laugh, but he leaned in close enough for Jake to feel the pressure of his shoulder, the way his abdomen was quivering, and his hands - god, his hands, on Jake's back, his hips, his ass.
"I want it," he whispered. "So fucking much, Jake, you have no idea."
It took Jake several minutes to come to his senses, enough to nudge them away from the fire circle toward his tent, and to retrieve his mom's guitar from the grass - and to really look at Ryder, stumbling through the yard and clutching his empty cup. Jake's skin was still tingling from the contact of Ryder's body, and he was hard enough to make walking awkward, but...
"Wait." He watched Ryder slow, stop, and turn to face him, his eyes wide and hurt in the light of the waning moon. "I don't know. It's not that I don't... want it. Because fuck, I want it so much too. I just don't know if it's a good idea. Like this."
"Like... this?" Ryder's voice was hurt, too. He was standing there, far enough away that Jake felt his absence. It was strangely lonely after being right next to him all evening in the circle. But they were still in the circle, if he was going to be precise (and even if a pretend circle didn't really matter, it felt like it did). They were here, together, in a place-that-was-not-a-place and a time-that-was-not-a-time, where all things were possible. But Ryder didn't look like he thought all things were possible. He looked uncertain, scared. That wasn't what Jake wanted.
"No," said Jake, staring fixedly at his shoes, "no, not this... this is fucking awesome. I'm saying - you, and me, I thought this might be the only way you would ever... and now I don't know if it's fair to you, because maybe you wouldn't have, if we hadn't drunk all that -"
"Oh." That sounded better, enough for Jake to look up again in a hurry to find his eyes again. Now Ryder was smiling, which was good, so good, and Jake smiled back, dizzy with relief. "Yeah, well, I can see why you might have thought that I wouldn't, but... it's definitely not the wine that's making me. Want you." Ryder sucked in a breath, his gaze shyly flickering up to Jake's. "Wow... okay, maybe it's making me talk about it, because I never would have said that sober, but... I was definitely feeling it yesterday, and the day before, and... yeah."
Somehow all the distance between them had been eliminated, and they were close enough now for Jake to be able to touch just about anything on Ryder he wanted to touch. Want, he felt, a hot pulse. But he still kept his hands to himself.
"You're Catholic," he said.
Ryder stared at him. Then he laughed. Not a caustic, subtle laugh, or a bitter one tinged with regret. This was a big belly laugh, and Ryder wasn't stopping at holding his own stomach. He wrapped his arms around Jake and held him, still laughing.
"That's what's stopping you?" The amusement on his face was easier to see now that he was right up against Jake, and he was - oh, there was the kissing again. Jake couldn't believe what a good kisser he was. Ryder only pulled away far enough to move his mouth close to Jake's ear. "You're afraid I'm going to go to hell for making out with a heathen?"
"Not really - oh god." He bit down on a whimper as Ryder used his tongue on his earlobe, sending shivers cascading through him. "I'm afraid you're going to wake up with a hangover and a hell of a lot of regret."
"Mmmmmm. The hangover, maybe. But regret? No fucking way."
It was true: at the moment, Ryder was acting appallingly cool and confident for someone who might not want something. That was a nice thing to witness, in this place-that-was-not-a-place. Maybe it could be a place where Ryder was sure that what they were doing was fine, maybe even good, and the rest of the world could piss off and leave them alone in his tent. Jake shot another wistful look at the rain fly.
"I'm not sure how you're gonna convince me you won't regret it," he said.
That's when the world upended itself, the stars dangling crazily above his ankles, and the breath was knocked out of him as he landed flat on his back. And there, kneeling over him in the grass with that same light-up little boy face, was Ryder.
"Maybe I won't bother to try to convince you."
Jake let Ryder kiss him again (because oh my freaking god) before he attempted to exert force to escape from being trapped there, on his back in the middle of the yard. He was seriously starting to lose his motivation to resist. Ryder's hand on his thigh wasn't helping either, and why did Jake have to get a case of the conscience, right then? But he knew why.
"You feel so good," he assured him desperately. His eyes rolled up to show the whites when he felt Ryder pressing the hot, hard length of himself against his hip. "But this isn't a - oh - a stupid one night stand. I can't do that to you; you're not like that. Not to me."
Ryder's delighted grin hovered there, inches from his face. "You're saying you might be interested in doing this again, maybe?"
This apparently was going to include taking off some clothing, because Ryder was already plucking at the hem of Jake's shirt. Jake gave one last heroic effort, planting both hands on Ryder's chest and giving him a little push. "I want to. Do it again. A lot. And if you don't want that, I'm saying I don't want to do it at all."
Ryder chuckled, undeterred. "You must think a lot of yourself, Puckerman, if you're so sure I'm gonna want to keep fooling around with you after you got me drunk and took advantage of me."
Jake felt himself flush, hot and ashamed. Yeah. That's exactly what I was doing. Even if it isn't cheating on Beltaine, this is still wrong. He struggled out from underneath Ryder's sweaty, stupidly awesome body, picked up his guitar and headed for the house.
"Jake," Ryder protested, but he didn't turn around.
He let the screen door bang behind him, aware that he was the only one inside; everybody else had either gone home or was still enjoying the beautiful spring night. There wasn't any excuse for hiding out in his room and missing Beltaine.
"Might as well inflict it on somebody else, then," he muttered, pulling out his phone and throwing himself onto his bed.
"Go for Puckerm- Jake, what the fuck are you doing calling me tonight?"
"I got stuck in an ethical dilemma," he said, trying to be both careful and precise.
"Don't tell me you're freaking out. Isn't Beltaine supposed to be the one day you don't have to worry about that shit?"
Jake rolled over onto his side. "I'm only worried because it's not a casual thing. It's... important. I care what happens tomorrow, and -"
Puck sighed noisily. "Dude, isn't this that ritual where you make a big fucking declaration about what you want?"
"Well... yeah."
"And did you?"
"Yeah." He winced, vivid images of Ryder on top of him fresh in his mind. "I said I didn't want casual, and if this was casual we might as well not do it, and h- they wanted to do stuff anyway, but there was drinking and... I mean, it was great. Really great."
"I'm not actually hearing a problem here, little bro. You gave him the choice, right?"
Jake nibbled on his already too-short nails. "What, um, makes you think it's a -"
"Pronoun game? Dead giveaway. And like I said, you gave him a choice. Unless he was falling down drunk and didn't even know your name, he still gets to say fuck this, you manipulated me. But I'm guessing he didn't say that?"
"Well, he... he kind of did." Jake startled at the knock on his door. Even though he didn't respond, the knob rattled, turned, and the door swung open, revealing Ryder's wary face in the doorway.
"So, then what happened?"
Jake sat up. "Then... he showed up in my bedroom."
"And this is a problem. Fuck if I can figure it out, Jake. I think you're gonna have to deal with it from here." He sounded amused. "Good luck. More lube is always better."
"For Pete's sake," he muttered, thumbing off his phone and tossing it onto his desk. He stared past Ryder into the hallway, where he thought he could see another figure lurking. "What do you want?"
"Pretty sure we already established that, man," Ryder said softly. "Out on the lawn. And you were clear enough, too, but... if this isn't going to be a one-time thing, I figured we need one more voice to weigh in on the issue. Can we come in?"
Jake tried to respond, but then he realized who was with him in the hall, and he just swallowed on a dry throat, nodding. Marley followed Ryder into the bedroom, her face sober, and closed the door behind her.
"Hey," she said, moving in to hug him. He hugged back automatically, making eye contact with Ryder over her shoulder. Ryder shrugged, sitting down next to them on the bed.
"You were planning to sit by yourself in your room all night," she said. It was an observation, not a question, but Jake was pretty sure she was right.
"I think I expected... well, I don't know what I expected." He watched Ryder's hand move restlessly from his own knee to the bed and back, and laughed unhappily. "Not this, for sure."
"You mean you weren't planning to get me drunk and seduce me?" Ryder frowned. "I think I might be offended. And a little embarrassed."
"Oh, yeah, you sure look embarrassed," grumbled Jake. Now it was Marley's turn to laugh. He turned to her. "Shouldn't you be completely pissed at both of us?"
"Been there, done that," she replied briskly, squeezing his shoulder. "I think you're ready to hear my point of view on this situation. Ryder already got an earful on the phone on my way over here. You -" She patted him on the chest. "- and you -" She reached for Ryder, pulling him closer. "- you've finally figured your part of this stupid thing out, thank god. If I told you that having the two of you fooling around instead of fighting all the time would make things easier, would you believe me?"
"I'd say you're crazy," said Ryder, then added hastily, when he saw Jake's glare, "but that's not so different from what I'm thinking about myself right now, so... I'll take it. I mean, I'm listening. And I believe you."
They both turned to face Jake, and he tried not to shrink back under their expectant gaze. "Um. Can I just say, the two of you are blowing my mind?"
"You can't believe either of us considered this possibility? Really?" She blew out an exasperated breath. "I'm the most mundane and ordinary of any of us, and I still thought of it. Come on, baby, you're good at thinking outside the box. Can't you see this?"
Jake couldn't bring himself to ask see what. Because of course, he'd thought of it, mostly in the context of guilty fantasies... but occasionally when they'd been together, the three of them, at school or in Glee or hanging out. He wouldn't have seriously considered it before Ryder had done what he'd done, but now...
He shifted his eyes back and forth between the two of them, and finally, figuring it was his turn to take a leap of faith, reached to touch Marley's cheek - and turned to kiss Ryder in the same motion.
Marley cupped Jake's hand to her face, clutching at it, and her breathing stuttered and came out as a gasp. Not a shocked one, but a hopeful ohh, and Ryder responded with a noise of his own that was so unbelievably hot that Jake thought he might lose it right there.
"It's not because of Beltaine," he said, making Ryder look at him. "You get that, right? It's - all the time, and more than that."
Ryder nodded. He glanced at Marley, his expression tentative and brimming with possibility. "I do get that. And you and me, Mar - if you think you can tolerate having me around..."
She lunged for him, stopping his words with her own kiss, and Jake got to experience his own moment of oh fuck that's really hot. When they were done, Jake's hands were wound around Marley's waist, and he was grinning hard. Ryder cleared his throat, looking a little dazed.
"It's not all that dual, Jake," he said. "All those metaphors you were throwing at me, they don't really apply with three, do they? You think your god and goddess are gonna care?"
"Nah," said Jake. "A lot less than yours would, I'd bet. We say all acts of love and pleasure are welcome."
"Love and pleasure," Marley echoed, humming in contentment as she leaned back against Jake's chest. "I can get behind that."
The bed was comfortable, but the lure of the beautiful clear night was too great, and nobody said one word about the three of them making their way among the mellow revelers into Jake's tent. Ryder helped him unzip the two sleeping bags flat and layer them on top of one another. In the darkness, as they took their shirts off, he heard Marley make the first uncertain noise she'd uttered all evening.
"I - don't know how much I'm ready for, guys," she said. "I want to be here with the two of you, so much, but... honestly, I'd feel a lot better if I knew you didn't have any expectations when it came to my, um, participation."
"No pressure, baby," Jake promised. "I told you, I can wait until you're ready, and that hasn't changed."
Ryder yawned. "Actually, would it be a total Beltaine fail if we all just went to sleep? I can't believe I'm lying here half-naked with the two of you and saying that, but... this night kind of kicked my ass."
"I don't think we need to hurry any of it. This isn't the only time we'll have this." Jake turned his head until it was pressed against the curve of Ryder's rib cage, and allowed himself to appreciate the slow rhythm of his breath. Perfect love and perfect trust... or at least a pretty good beginning.