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The museum was quiet. It’s always quiet at night. Not so much during operating hours. But nighttime gives Jordan time to destress and think. It gives him peace, or at least as much peace as a ghost can get. Tonight his thoughts were racing. He was waiting for someone tonight. Someone he could call a friend. As he sat on the railing of the African animal exhibits, he whistled. It was a song his mother would whistle when she was waiting for his father to come home. He could never remember the name. He closed his eyes and let the song take over his senses.
A soft breeze against his ear let him know his guest had arrived. He slowly opened his eyes and was met with a long-haired man. With a scar over his left eye and irises as green as spring. Jordan gave a small smile. Patting the railing beside him. With a deep sigh, the man took his seat and rested his weapon at his side. Just in case, you could never be too cautious in the city.
“How have you been?” Jordan whispered.
“Harm has been living fine,” Harm stated. “Harm wanted to do more than childish small talk.” Jordan chuckled. His friend had a weird way of saying things. He made his smile a little wider.
“Well, Jordan just wanted to check in with his pal,” Jordan mimicked. “Seriously, man. Loosen up!” He softly punched the other man's shoulder. Harm scowled and huffed.
“Harm does not think of you as a pal.” He crossed his arms and looked up with faux disgust.
“Sure you don’t. Do you think of me as an enemy?” Jordan questioned. Staring intently at Harm. Harm shook his head. “How about an equal?” Harm lowered his head and stared in indignance. Jordan let out a chort. “Alright,” he thought. “Ooh! Do you think of me as a lover?” Jordan waggled his eyebrows and laughed when Harms's face reddened. Harm almost thought to be angry. But hearing Jordan's laugh distracted him. The way Jordan could be so carefree, despite his circumstances.
Harm knew of his past and knew of his traumas. He never thought he could feel resentment towards another murderer, but Jordan was different. Jordan made him softer. Harm hated it. He could feel the sword of Beowulf rejecting him little by little. Every day, his heart became less pure of evil. And yet, he couldn’t stop visiting the ghost. He couldn’t stop listening to him talk, listening to the music he suggested. He couldn’t stop watching him, watching him fidget with his shirt’s hem, watching his adam’s apple bob. He couldn’t stop thinking of the ghost. It was driving Harm crazy.
“Harm? You good, man?” Jordan nudged him, dislodging him from his thoughts. Harm looked deep into Jordan's brown eyes.
‘Does Harm think of it as a lover? No, not it, him.’ Harm thought. ‘Yes, Harm did think of him as a lover.’ Before he could stop himself, the thought charged out of his mouth. Jordan's eyes widened. It was now his turn to redden. He turned away, hands coming up to his cheeks. Harm panicked. “Harm did not mean that!” Harm yelled as he stood from the railing. The sword of Beowulf clanked as it hit the floor. His face felt hot, hotter than he’d ever felt. Jordan turned back towards Harm.
“What if…” He paused. “What if I thought the same way about you?” Harms's eyes widened, and his mouth felt dry. Without thinking, he inched towards the other man. He brought his hand to Jordan's chin, tipping it up. He began to lean down before he could meet Jordan's lips. Jordan surged up and sealed their mouths together. Harms's hand went into Jordan's curly hair, gripping slightly. Jordan clumsily reached his hands to Harm's neck and then wrapped them around it.
It felt like forever, yet not long enough once they finally backed away. Both were bright red at this point. Jordan grinned big, reminding Harm of the Cheshire Cat. Harm couldn’t help but return the smile. Jordan patted the railing once again. They sat together for a while. Heads rested on ontop of one another. Slowly breathing, hands intertwined.
In the distance. A church bell rang in the morning. Harm raised his head. The sun tottered through the windows. Soon the museum guards would clock in, and the museum's day would start. Jordan groaned as the two stood from their rested positions. He stretched his stiff muscles. Harm wondered why he had to; do ghosts even have muscles? Together they slowly walked out to Harms' entry point. It was near all the space exhibits. As they passed the exhibit's gift shop, he got an idea.
“Harm, wait up.” Harm stopped and looked back at Jordan, who was rummaging through the toys and merchandise. “Aha! Here, pick one of these that most reminds you of me!” Jordan pulled the man over to the planet plushies. Harm looked at the other man skeptically. Jordan gave him a small smile and motioned to take a look. Harm looked over the plushies. His eyes landed on the smaller, keychain versions of the planets. He went over and picked up one in particular. It was a small planet with a heart on its side. Tiny beaded eyes gazed up at him. He turned to Jordan and walked over.
“This one.” He placed the keychain in Jordan's hands and waited for the other man's reaction. Jordan looked down at the small plush. Once seeing it, he let out a belly laugh. It sounded like music to Harms' ears, and his heart felt weak.
“This is Pluto, Harm,” Jordan explained. “They recently said that it’s not a planet anymore.” He stared at the little plush in his hands and smiled. “Why this one?”
“It has a heart on its side,” Harm explained. Eyes boring into Jordans. Jordan laughed and gave the plushie back.
“Well, I want you to have it. So that you can be reminded of me, y’know.” Harm smiled and graciously took the token. He leaned down to give the other a chaste kiss. Jordan gave a chuckle. “You have to go before they catch you.” Harm nodded and began walking to his exit. He took a glance back at Jordan. The ghost was seemingly getting more opaque as the sun rose. They waved, and Harm walked out into the spring morning. His power was draining. He could feel it. He was no longer pure of heart. But maybe he could deal with that. For his attention was deviated to a new pursuit. One of love.