gremlinhaus | Saintsmourn

Saintsmourn

"Bless me father, for I have sinned," the words tumbled past his lips, ingrained in the well worn pathways of his memory from the years he'd spent in catechism and as an altar boy. Not that Liam was devout anymore -- how could he be, given what he'd become, given what he did and continued to do. The confessional booth was small and dark, light filtering in only dimly through the door and its screen that kept him hidden from the sanctuary beyond and from the priest he assumed would be on the other side.

"It has been... a very long time since my last confession."

What was he doing here? This was ridiculous. He couldn't possibly expect forgiveness and absolution. There had to be true repentance for that, real contrition, and Liam knew he couldn't manage either. He hated what he did, despised every moment of it, but he wouldn't stop. He couldn't stop. The price for disobeying was far too severe, and he would not be the one to pay it. The price for his disobedience and his failure would be paid by his brother, and he couldn't live with that.

So William had made his choice, made it again and again, putting that one life ahead of so many others. And oh he was good at what he did, talented at ruining people, in shattering whatever it was in a human being that kept their souls in place, until they were ready to throw it away. His watcher commended him for it, in a sick and sadistic sort of amusement.

Today's lost soul had been... fuck. It had been hard. She was young, barely nineteen, and her road had already been a hard one. He'd played the game with her for the past few weeks, insinuating darkness and doubt into the cracks of that already-battered soul. Today. Today she'd shattered, and there would be no recovering from it. Another soul for the demon who owned him.

He could feel the panic rising up in his chest, cold and hard and threatening to freeze his lungs so he couldn't draw in enough breath. In the dimness and silence of the confessional, all the carefully constructed walls and facades trembled and fell away. Gone were the easy smiles and quite literal devil-may-care attitude, all the charisma and charm that he relied on in his cursed excuse for a job. It was him and his breathing and the silence and the faceless priest in the chamber beside him. Liam wondered if he could hear the panic in his breathing.

"I... sorry. This was a mistake. I should go. I'm sorry, Father, for wasting your time."

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Liam very much would like a second kiss. Maybe a third. And a fourth and then maybe more, but Liam was trying not to be as greedy as he felt when it came to wanting the priest. That kiss had been a match to dry tinder ready to become a conflagration, and it had done exactly that.

He looked over to Riley at the question. "I mean human. Not a demon. I mean, they're generally human-shaped most of the time. But it's different. They're empty, and there's no warmth there." At least the demons he had known. One shoulder lifted in a faint shrug. Somewhere deep down in himself he realized that what he was saying was not even remotely normal, but it was all he'd known. Normal was relative.

Another moment where he couldn't quite stop himself from reaching up to brush his fingers along his lips, the sensation of that warmth already fading back to memory, where he expected he'd treasure it.

It had to be a cookie crumb trail to temptation, though honestly he would be thinking of how he felt with the other man's lips on his own-- it would figuratively haunt him in the depths of sleep, and out of it.

Just enough moments like that and he may just cap-size like a boat, regardless of intentions.

And was his eyes drawn to the way that Liam touched those lips, so much that he had to look away once again. He had learned however that normal was not often times the case, he set the glass aside and then he clasped his hands together. "So you've kissed people who have been less than human?" kissed was probably not the right word at all.

Step by tiny step. Liam could be patient, after all. But he was already fully in over his head, and he recognized that. Maybe that was why he was acting so recklessly about it, bolder than he had any right to be.

Or maybe he was just desperately lonely and the spark of connection and attraction and something else that Riley had set to glowing in him was the first warm little light he'd felt in a very long time.

A nod at the question. "Or they kissed me, if we're assigning agency here." Among other things yes. The way he understood it, demons drew energy from sexual release with humans, even when the demon wasn't specifically an incubus. For incubi it was a much more pressing need that fed their very survival.

It was something that would pull between them until they acted on it-- the Priest so close to sin, his soul so ripe for the taking; he had taken vows and that bright pure flame within him was like candy to those who seeked to devour it. At this moment, there was nothing to be done-- they were on a collision course like two asteroids who would eventually crash, and then twining flames to the ground within their own hubris.

"I.. so you do not choose these things?"

Oh Riley had a temper, normally he was fairly placid and calm but he could become waves upon the sea, crashing in a stormy rage if he was provoked enough. It was rare but it could happen.

Liam didn't want to do anything to ruin that brightness in Riley. He ought to realize that was exactly what he'd do though. He was poison, the sort of thing that tainted everything he touched. Really, shouldn't he know that by now? But he was blinded by the warm light in Riley and how it called to him, drew him in.

His shoulders rose and fell in a shrug that was far too casual for the subject matter. "It's part of the contract, part of the price of the deal I made." A life for a life. His keeper owned him body and soul. Really, the only thing that was his own anymore was his heart, and that was a battered and broken thing anyway.

Riley was instinctively drawn to battered and broken things, perhaps it is because he wanted to assuage the pain of those who needed it-- perhaps because he read so many conflicting things in the weight of Liam's presence. Confidence and yet vulnerability, flirtation and yet-- also something child-like in him, like he'd been forced to grow up far to fast.

Whatever he had to do, with his dubious consent-- it made Riley bite the inside of his cheek.

"I wish you did not have to go through that." he could not save anyone, but he had to try and the sadness made him perhaps even more resolved; beware demon you now had a foe in Riley-- whether that became formidable remained to be seen. "No one should have to go through that."

Riley would be the first to see through him. That confidence and flirtation and bravado got him through most of life. Even his brother thought that was the real Liam these days, never considered that it was all a carefully crafted defense.

He looked over at Riley in surprise at that. For Liam, while he wasn't exactly happy about any of his end of his contract, at least warming Gregory's bed didn't do any damage to anyone else, as opposed to the soul collecting which tore at him each and every time he ruined a soul and a life and saw the cracks spread through someone because of him. Not that he'd admit that to anyone.

"Don't worry about me too much, Father. I deserve what I have. I have no illusions about that. There are much better places to invest your kindness." More deserving places. More people who could actually be saved.

It was words like that which would get stuck in Riley's head, settling there where he would obsess over it as he stared up at his ceiling at night, of ways to save Liam. There had to be a way, there was always a way. He looked over to Liam then and he smiled just a little bit. "I am doing it for Maurice." the orange cat with a single braincell. "He clearly needs a dad, and he has chosen you so..."

In so many words, "Also I have promised to come visit him, have I not?" him and Liam.

They were a package deal, according to Liam.

"You know, animals are good judges of character."

"Well... I wouldn't want to keep you from Maurice. He's an excellent cat." And Maurice had clearly taken to Riley as well. His gaze flickered to the side, making the beautiful mistake of meeting the priest's eyes, captured immediately in that fathomless blue. Could you drown in the sky? Liam might be finding out in this moment.

For his own self preservation he looked away out over the ocean before laughing. "I'm not sure orange cats count. They're not known for their wisdom."

But generally animals did like him, and Liam liked them. If he'd not had his soul snatched up by a demon bargain when he was too young to know better, there'd been a light in him as well, one that was being strangled and starved moment by moment, though some small spark remained.

The Priest could see the goodness in the other man, it was a spark but it was there, as long as there was something he felt like he could work with that. It was temptation to be around this man, but he also knew that he was not bad, just that sometimes he did bad things. He carefully reached in the basket and then pulled out another cookie, offering it to the other man.

"Orange cats have quite a bit of heart so I have determined, even if they are less than wise. Leave the wisdom to other people, just let Maurice's preference for your company count for something." offering a smile that touched at the corner, and illuminating his eyes just a little bit.

"All right. I'll trust Maurice's taste, but only because he is an excellent cat." Liam had already decided that he had to do some shopping to make sure Maurice had what he needed. Litterbox and food bowls and a scratching post and a cat tree and bed and toys. He would spoil his new stray cat son and his utter lack of braincells.

He leaned back into the bench, letting silence fall between them for a few minutes. He couldn't shake the feeling that Riley saw him in a way no one had in a very long time. It was intoxicating and terrifying in equal parts.

"I can still feel your lips on mine..." he broke the silence with the downright wistful statement.

Those words ran through him, and spoke to something deep within him.

He looked out to the sea, in the same direction that Liam was looking-- the windbreaker provided very little true warmth but that was fine, the sun was out and shining on them which helped mitigate it. One of probably the last nice weeks before true autumn settled into the trees and leaves, sea and rocks.

"I can as well."

He admitted, he could not lie.

And here they both were, sitting at the edge of the world. His heart was still fluttering in his chest, skipping beats and falling out of rhythm. It had never done this before, and this was the moment that Liam realized that he might be in trouble, deeply in trouble.

He couldn't bring himself to care enough to retreat like he should have. Instead he ducked his head with a quiet laugh. "I don't think I'll be able to get you out of my head, Father."

Not a chance, really. "And honestly, I don't want to."

He had never questioned his vows until that kiss with Liam, and that shook him to his core.

Honestly, he'd never missed sex-- not really and perhaps that was because he had not felt that spark; he'd felt arousal but that had been such a generalized thing and not attached to a singular person. It was something that woke him up in the morning, hard and demanding. But looking into Liam's eyes, he became increasingly aware of how easy it would be to fall.

That terrified him.

And thus, he would do the retreating for the two of them. It was time that he was strong, he shut the basket and then looked at his watch-- nervously and then he got up from the bench. "I should probably head back, I have to be back at the dorms.."

He did not, but it was easy to say that, because if he stayed here he would not be sure of what could happen-- he was attracted and that was clear, but he was also fighting that attracting tooth and nail. He needed to refortify himself because he felt he could not do anything for Liam with this miasma of sinning thoughts going through his mind, all of them forsaking every vow he'd pledged to the church.

Ah there it was. Liam didn't move when Riley stood, not at first anyway. It was probably better to let the priest make his escape, to go and put distance and time between them so they could, hopefully, let clearer heads prevail. If they could, if there was any way that he could possibly get the other man out from where he'd settled deep in his mind and his heart.

He should let him go now, let that excuse be enough.

Instead he found himself reaching out hooking his fingers into the pocket of Riley's jacket, to stop his retreat, to urge him closer. "This isn't the sort of sin that stains a soul. I wouldn't risk your light." He looked up at the other man through a fringe of thick, dark lashes. "Let me give you this? Please?"

For a moment Riley looked at Liam, into those dark eyes fringed with those equally dark lashes, the scruff that made him look very sexy, and the slightly tousled hair; was that a trait of the family to have hair that looked like it was rumpled due some sort of exertion? He'd never thought of it before, but with Liam he wondered if that was what he looked like waking up with his hair all mussed.

"What do you mean?"

There was a bit of wariness to his voice as he was pulled closer. His heart hammering, and it was like a deer that had the strong urge to run away and to avoid temptation. Riley knew that he needed to run, but Liam spoke in such a bedroom voice and he was nearly stricken speechless with it.

Liam looked up at the priest still, watching him with dark eyes made darker by the desire that was flooded through him. He knew this was a bad idea, knew he had no business asking for this, but he wanted it. Oh he wanted it, wanted Riley, so much it was making him genuinely stupid.

Another gentle tug at the jacket to urge Riley to turn towards him, to step closer. His free hand slipped beneath that jacket, fingers curling into his belt.

What did he mean? He meant this, Riley. He meant things that were very much against vows made to a church, but were, at their essence, very fundamentally human and divine in their own right.

"I mean pleasure. I mean losing yourself, for just a little while. I mean one night, together." Just one kiss. Just one night. What damage could that really do?

Riley could feel his resolve slip and it was not fair, not fair that Liam look at him like that with those dark eyes and not expect him to fold. An almost pained look crossed over his features, as if he was being sorely tempted. He did not try to tug away though his voice was hoarse.

"I cannot...'

But why was there a question mark there, the slightest inflection and raised tone. It felt like he was on the tumbling brink of falling into it especially since he did not tug away. "You are asking something I should not give but I am tempted, you are tempting me."

But he did not blame the tempter, he blamed himself for being so easily filled with something unspeakable, for wanting exactly what the other man promised-- his lips parting and his blue eyes gleaming as if he had to fill his mouth with air and his eyes with light to try to ease the shadows of undeniable desire that tendriled around him. "I want you, but can a single kiss save you? Can one night save you?"

Liam started to open his mouth again, to say that it wasn't temptation, that the only sin in this was what they brought with them into it, that it did not have to be about tempting or breaking vows, just about connection and desire and...

And then Riley asked those questions.

Ah. It was a reminder just there of how good Riley was, how warm he shone, how Liam would only ruin something in the good priest if he were not careful. And even if he wanted to cling to that I want you because he had never heard anything half so sweet as those three words.

He swallowed and with a reluctance that was near tangible with how heavy it was, he let his hands fall away. "No, it can't." His eyes shut for a moment, and he took a breath, stealing himself to look back up at the priest, summoning a smile. He was beyond saving, Riley. He knew that.

If it meant saving Liam's soul, if it had been something far greater; he would have done it in a heartbeat-- would have thrown his vows away if it had meant saving if only one person-- he would have done it. In tales, people were saved by love at it's purest common denominator. That did not make this any less complicated to him however and so he felt the way that Liam's fingers fell from his belt and he let out a breath.

Oh but he was only a red-blooded man, he experienced temptation far greater then most, it always was said that forbidden fruit tasted the sweetest and Liam's kiss still burned upon his tongue.

However he leaned down then, brushed a dark curl from forehead and pressed his lips against that forehead. It would feel like a benediction, but it would also bear heat-- not uncomfortable but still weight to it. "I need to get back." that kiss was an apology too, that he could not betray his vows; there was regret behind it that he could not.

That was part of the problem wasn't it? Liam knew he was unsaveable and unlovable, and the two of those might be so intrinsically connected there was no untangling one from the other. He knew it, deep in the core of his bones and the depths of his broken little heart. So why did being near this priest stir small flickers of almost unbearable hope?

He was probably fooling himself, probably torturing himself for no real reason. There was no world in which this was anything but some mad, ridiculous dream. But he couldn't forget the taste of Riley's lips, didn't want to forget it. It made him feel human for the first time in, well, a very long while. His eyes fell shut as those lips left that blessing on his forehead. It felt like goodbye, in a weightier way than the priest likely meant it. liam nodded as Riley spoke. "Goodbye, Father. Thank you, for the picnic." He meant the thanks. It had been nice to step outside his own life for a little while and just exist with someone like this gentle priest.

Liam would not reach out to stop him again, as much as he may have wanted to. Instead his gaze deliberately avoided meeting Riley's again, as if he didn't think he could trust himself not to do something horrifically embarrassing like begging him to stay if he chanced it. Instead he looked out over the water, the way the sunlight played in dancing sparks and flashes on the uneven surface.

Edited 2025-06-02 14:46 (UTC)

Riley collected his things and the basket, but he left the remainder of the cookies there as if it could make up for something; an offense caused, a disappointment tendered. It ached to disappoint the other man and he felt it all the way back home. He thought about his vows, and what they had meant.. he thought about the expectations that were heaped upon himself when all he wanted to do was sink into the other man's touch.

The kiss had not meant nothing, in fact the reason why he had said no was because he knew that another taste and he would not have been able to stop himself, it was something innate within him.

He came back to the dorm to get ready for his rounds, he'd stolen moments and now it was time to get back to the world of Saintsmourn; he checked a few rooms, left a few notes for corrections (though framed in the nicest way possible) and his mind was still on those melancholy brown eyes that spoke of such sadness.

He dreamed of those eyes, he dreamed of other things as well-- waking up pulsing and hot.

A few days went passed and he tried to avoid going into the village and walking past the antique store where he knew Liam to be, best to fortify himself-- but that was easier said than done, now wasn't it? The thing was that the temptation did not go away, his thoughts-- they were in his thoughts, the idea of Liam and him. A seed had been planted that he could not just let go, his mind ruthlessly tended this soil where it had been planted, and reminded of those sprouts every single night.

Riley was not the only one plagued by dreams. It hardly felt like a plague during the dreams of course. No, they were some small sliver of a heaven that Liam knew he had no business and no nope of actually seeing. There would be no getting the other man out of his mind, and he was trying to do his best to accept that and move on despite. He made no attempt to see the priest again over those few days, not sure he could trust himself not to throw himself at Riley which what remained of his pride told him would be a bad thing somehow.

Instead he busied himself with his new role as Cat Dad. Maurice had been scooped up and brought to his little studio apartment above the antique store. The orange boy had been showered in all the accoutrements that came with being a spoiled housecat and seemed to be enjoying his new, warmer, much more comfortable life. He'd even tolerated the bath that Liam had visited upon him the first night with only a little pathetic pitiable mewing.

But all this did not mean that Riley would be allowed to think he'd been forgotten. A few days after their little not-date on the ocean cliffs, a rather large package would be delivered to the priest's quarters. It was a solid wooden bookcase, five feet tall, intricate leaf carvings up along the trim at the sides and top and bottom. It was clearly old, antique even (go figure), but it had been rather painstakingly restored and refinished. A card included stated simply, "Maurice thought you'd like this. - L"

The package was not something he had been expecting, and yet it showed up and at first he was confused when the deliverymen knocked on his door and then dollied the bookcase in, and then there was a bookcase that he had lamented over not having, right now in his quarters, the perfect size for all of his books and with plenty for the books he would likely collect.

He did a bit of arranging that evening, smiling to himself at the unexpected boon in the form of a bookcase; but also the thoughtfulness of the other man remembering, and the mention of Maurice.

After he was satisfied putting everything in the right place, even adding a little vase with a few wildflowers-- Asters and Wild Columbine as was native within this area. Then he snapped a picture and sent it to Liam.

Thank you for remembering, I had completely forgotten.

Are you and Maurice roommates now? Also what do I owe you for the bookcase?

Edited 2025-06-02 16:19 (UTC)

Liam was in the middle of another carpentry project when the text came in. This project was not his usual though, and it involved far too many allen wrenches, but hell or high water Maurice was going to have this cat tree. He was trying to parse the visual directions and decide whether the piece in his hand was piece A3 or B1 when the sound of his phone interrupted his deciphering of these horrible hieroglyphics. He couldn't help a smile at seeing who it was from, and the picture attached to it.

Don't mention it, Father. Looks like you're making good use of it already. I'm glad. And yeah, Maurice has moved in. He's a pretty good roommate so far, but every time I bring up splitting the rent he suddenly has an important nap to take. I probably should've run a credit check. Oh well. He's good company at least.

You don't owe me anything. Consider it a gift. And an apology for crossing a line.

Or several lines.

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