Saintsmourn

[giveanything]

"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."

Comments

[eblouissant]

He pressed a kiss to Liam's hand, making sure that it was a very felt tribute-- and strangely enough, for this he did not feel guilty. It felt right, like what he was meant to do, as if every single step he'd ever taken was only to lead to this.

Nothing like that camping trip before seminary, that had ladled him with guilt. There was a difference here which he was not prepared to focus on just yet.

His eyes fell shut at the reverent touch while he listened to Liam, the shivers that erupted through his body, though he tried to get himself together enough to step out of the loaned sweatpants, then he moved to sit down on the edge of Liam's bed, his hand moving to reach for it's partner.

"You... come here." He breathed with more than a bit of lovely shyness. His heart swelling with the beauty of the moment. "Though maybe you should take your pants off first..."

[giveanything]

How unfair that Riley could be so sweet and shy at the same time he was devastatingly attractive and ruining Liam's ability to think of anything that wasn't the handsome face and gentle voice of the man in front of him.

"Maybe?" A gentle teasing of his own even as he was shimmying his way out of his pants, stepping out of them and leaving where they lay to reaching out and catch Riley's hand with his, slowly and deliberately lacing their fingers together securely. Another step and he was standing between Riley's legs. His free hand found its way to brush the priest's hair back from his face so he could see him better.

He smiled then, and there was a genuine glow to it that was absent from so many of his usual expression, reaching his eyes. "You're amazing, Riley. I hope you know that."

[eblouissant]

This was near holy, the moment between the two of them-- not something carnal but almost like a religious experience-- because to Riley, it was not so much about the sex but rather the connection that they were forging together. The sex was a means to that end and to illustrate that, Riley leaned in to press a kiss against Liam's heart-- the soft tickling of chest hair that caused a glimmer to come to his eyes.

And then ceremoniously he tugged Liam to come straddle his lap, this time far more naked, where they could be thigh to thigh and chest to chest. "I am just myself and I have been myself for far longer than I can remmember." He said with a chuckle. "Do not put me on a pedestal, I would not be comfortable up there I don't think."

[giveanything]

How exactly did Riley expect Liam not to fall completely and irrevocably in love with him, doing things like that? Those lips touched his chest, and he swore he could feel the warmth from that kiss suffuse straight through him and pool in his chest, enveloping his cracked and wounded heart and reminding it how to beat.

Then he was in Riley's lap, and that was a wonderful development. Far more naked, nothing between them and he wanted to disappear entirely into the other man, as if he could wrap himself in the feeling of being wanted by someone good and gentle and kind, in the feeling of being warm and close and alive. Oh god for the first time in as far back as he could be remember, he felt alive and was grateful for it.

A low laugh of his own and he let his hands run up Riley's chest, up until he could wind his arms around his neck. "No pedestals then. I'm not really a fan of heights anyway." Riley might well be an angel, but even angels could fall. And he wouldn't want that for the other man. "And I like you right here, on the ground with me."