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]

If there was any way that Liam could've endeared himself to Riley any more, it was that. A beautiful tendril of humanity within him, how he uttered that historical fact as if it was something near and dear to his heart. He thought that perhaps there was a deeper story but he would not pry.. yet. Perhaps a little bit later he would have Liam tell him more ghost stories about the dormitory, and the general vicinity of Saintsmourn, it felt like the place may be a hive of ghostly activity.

But the next words caused the smile to freeze there, before it cracked into something moreso a frown, his brows knitting together.

"What did you sell your soul for?" he asked this. He did not call the other man crazy, but he knew well from what he'd read about that contracts were a give and take sort of deal and Liam must've received something in return.

[giveanything]

Liam was very pointedly not looking at Riley just now. The priest had been terribly kind to him all this time, despite the things he'd spoken of in their first encounter in the confessional. He didn't want to watch those clear blue eyes cloud over when they looked at him, the judgment or disgust or disdain or whatever it might be.

The price of his soul though, that was a hard question to admit. His gaze still focused out over the ocean -- the cold gray of the water, even under the blue sky, the color of slate. The Massachusetts sea was not warm or welcoming. It wore its warning plainly on its surface. Dark and dangerous things lay out beyond the shore, beautiful but lethal, cold and unimaginably deep. The exact opposite of Liam, who was just as dark and dangerous, but who looked human and welcoming and charming.

Part of him wanted to lie, to say he'd traded his soul away for fortune or favor or fame. Instead he opened his mouth and the truth tumbled out of it. "When I was eleven, my brother died." He'd already told Riley that Patrick was his brother, so perhaps that was a strange statement to say so plainly. "It was my fault."

And when a stranger had suddenly shown up in that moment and asked Liam what he would give to have his brother back, when he'd looked at six-year-old Trick's broken little body, the only answer had been anything. Anything that he had to give if it meant that Patrick would be okay. And then he was, a twisted miracle that only Liam ever truly knew about. Trick didn't remember any of it, mercifully. It was seven years before Liam understood how high a price he'd actually agreed to, but even now he'd pay whatever it took for his brother's sake.

[eblouissant]

Riley gives the other man the blessing of a listening hear while the story is told calmly and methodically. Though the truth was spoken without evident feeling, he could tell that there was much that was still locked up underneath the surface.

Most people would use such a contract for their own gain, but Liam had-- well, he had brought back the one he loved with such a heavy price. And now this, he was indebted to a being that he could not control, to some sort of evil-- over a choice that he had known would be what it was. A choice that a young one should never have had to make.

"While the price was high, you chose your brother. I think that if I had been presented with a choice at such a young age, I would have taken it too." he said this quietly as he fiddles with the brown paper wrap around the sandwiches; he'd made them look pretty but he rather thought that this was not something that you just ate lunch to. It felt almost sacrilege.

[giveanything]

"Trick doesn't know. He doesn't remember any of what happened. I'd really prefer it stays that way." And now he did look to Riley, because this was important. Patrick despised him for what he was, and Liam had come to terms with that. It was better, as far as he was concerned, for that to be the way of it. If his brother thought for an instant that all the evil Liam had done had been in many ways for his sake, he worried it would break him.

He offered a smile. "It was the stupidest thing. I was climbing a tree, and Trick wanted to do it too. I told him he was still a baby and he couldn't. I told him not to follow me. He did anyway, and I didn't stop him. I just kept going. He made it all the way up. But he slipped and he fell and there were all these roots and rocks and he wasn't moving." A tiny broken body twisted in a way that a body shouldn't move, motionless and silent and Liam screaming for him to wake up and---

He shook his head to try to banish the memory, like maybe his brain was just a glorified Etch-a-Sketch. "This... is ruining a perfectly good picnic. Sorry. I promised you a tour of the local hidden treasures, not a trek down bad memory lane."

[eblouissant]

This too was a confession, but in this moment Riley spoke to Liam as a fellow brother and not as Father Riley who was still new at his craft, he laid his hand over Liam's in a gesture of comfort while he spoke. "Little brothers are like that, they will do things and follow one around like a puppy and not have a care for the danger."

Even more carefully, the note of reassuring entering his voice. "Think of nature as our confessional booth, what you've spoken to me shall not be mentioned to Patrick." he would keep that particular confidence. "So there is nothing you can do about the contract?"

[giveanything]

The hand on his was a surprise, and Liam physically startled, almost a flinch, as if touch was so unexpected he didn't know how to process it. He relaxed in the next instant though, grateful for the contact. For the kindness.

God he was a selfish, grasping thing, to take comfort and kindness that he had no business having given so graciously to him. He certainly didn't deserve it. "Thank you."

He shook his head at the question. "Nothing but fulfill it. If I try to break it, the one who'll pay is Patrick. So I do as I'm told. I'm owned body and soul." Something that his keeper enjoyed reminding him of, frequently.

[eblouissant]

Remember, you cannot save everyone---

But you have to try---

He had always tried to save everything, as a young child he had read stories of chivalry and of knights on holy quests, and that had sparked something within him. He had wanted to be a hero who made a difference, he did not want glory and fame, but the simple knowledge that he had tried and succeeded in some cases, that through his actions there were people who could live a little bit brighter.

Perhaps that was the never-ending idealism in him but while that spark was contained, it did not go away so easily. "There has to be something, contracts often have loopholes."

[giveanything]

"None that I could find." Another smile, but that was a defense mechanism in and of itself. He was fine. He would always be fine. Liam was always a survivor, and that was part of the horrific irony of it all, when he was in many ways always rooting for someone to finally just stop him, once and for all.

His hand shifted beneath the priest's, a bold and probably inadvisable move, to brush his fingers along Riley's. "Are you thinking about trying to save me, Father? I should warn you it's too late for that. I think I'm more demon than human at this point." After all that he had done, how could he be anything else?

[eblouissant]

This was comfort, this was only comfort at it's most common denominator. His fingers took the bolder route and squeezed those fingers as if to let him know that he was here whenever the other man needed to listen. But-- he was already thinking of ways to save him, as if he had finally found a crusade, something to fight for.

"Everyone can be saved."

And coming from those lips, did not not seem like such a wonderful dream?

Riley pulled back his hand then but not before leaving the memory of their touch in their wake. "You have saved your brother, I think that it is about time someone came in on your side."

[giveanything]

Liam couldn't help it. For just a moment he let himself believe it, that those words were true. Hearing Riley say it, it felt like they could be for that brief precious span of a breath. That maybe there was something of him that could be salvaged, something in him that was worth saving. His heart ached at the thought. This man was more holy knight that simple priest, wasn't he?

The moment passed as hope was flooded out by the sudden wash of reality. If Riley tried, he'd catch the attention of Gregory, and Liam couldn't live with himself if the priest were hurt because of him. And oh he would be if he got too close. That was what Liam Leary did to people. He hurt them.

So despite the way dark eyes flooded with hope and longing, Liam shook his head and reached for a sandwich, needing to do something with his hand once the priest's touch was only a memory of warmth. "I don't know if that's true. I think sometimes, some people you can't save them. You can only stop them."

[eblouissant]

There was silence between the two of them as they each unwrapped their sandwiches.

Each pulled into their own world replete with their own thoughts and musings. For Riley, the word 'stop them' screeched to the forefront; it meant that likely Liam had tried to-- well the thought seemed almost untenable. But he did not want to voice those words as he knew that there was a layer of sensitivity just underneath the surface.

"Once you break bread with someone, that symbolizes a fellowship of sorts." he would not speak of brotherhood though that word also had been a possibility. "So I cannot help but feel like I should do something, or make an attempt-- I am not the type who can sit back and watch something unfold."

[giveanything]

Oh Liam had. Not directly, exactly. He was too worried that if he put an end to himself in a way that seemed deliberate, Gregory would treat that as a breach in his contract. So while the thoughts were there, they remained only thoughts. That did not stop him from reckless choices and self-destructive behavior though. It wasn't so much that he was tempting fate as desperately pleading with it to just do something.

But he found himself frowning as Riley spoke, shaking his head. "I'm dangerous, Father. I've hurt so many people. I don't want to see you hurt too, not on my account." Now, if Riley had been motivated to put an end to him, that would have been different. There would have been a mercy in that that Liam could have accepted.

"I can see your soul, you know. That's one of the things that came with my contract, that sight. And you shine. So bright. It should be blinding, but it's gentle, and it's warm, and I don't want to ruin that. I'm selfish enough to want to be close to it, and that's bad enough."

[eblouissant]

Riley had only read of things that inherently romantic in fairy stories, the way that Liam spoke about him as if he was a light-- he did not necessarily see it nor could he fathom it-- especially not when he had more than enough of his temptations swirling around in there.

"You make it out that I am much more than I actually am." he said as he brought his sandwich to his mouth.. only a little self conscious by those words and the distracting brown eyes that seemed to look into his very soul.

"But I will not turn you away, if my light gives you comfort then you may stay and bask in it as long as you dare wish." he did not know this contract keeper but already he was not a fan of him already. Once he balanced his sandwhich on his knee, he took out the little carafe of lemonade that was airtight sealed in a milk bottle and attempted to pour very carefully without upsetting his sandwhich. "So do you come here often because it gives you peace of sorts?"

[giveanything]

"You're a good man, Father. And that is a rare and precious thing." Good and kind and gentle. And of course beautiful on a more mundane physical level as well. No sense not counting that piece of it.

It was a mad thought, but Liam wanted to lose himself in the other man, even if it was only once, only a night. It was insane and dangerous and selfish and god he wanted him.

He took a bite of his own sandwich, hesitating at the question. "Something like that." Another moment of quiet as he considered his next words. "I come up here often, and I stand at the edge, and I think about jumping."

[eblouissant]

Riley did not like to play the holier-than- thou game that many in the clergy played. Father Mullins was a bit different, he was a man that all priests should aspire to be and he had taken Riley underneath his wings, perhaps it was easy to practice tolerance and peace toward all.. to understand that human nature was part and parcel of the experience.

"I think that you are brave for not jumping, sometimes the hardest thing you can do is to choose to live." he glanced out to the ocean, the wind whipping his locks of blonde every which way, he felt like there should be a sharing to this; it felt intimate and right. "When I was a child, I was bullied for preferring to cook and play house with the girls then engaging in sports with the other boys, and even though I do have athletic preferences, such as swimming.. it was not something that I could show others at school and when I was in my teenage years, there were a few points where I grew so depressed that thoughts did cross my head" he glanced over at Liam.

"I do not want to compare it to your situation but only to tell you that you are not alone."

[giveanything]

A quiet breath that would have been a laugh if it weren't so tired. Brave? That was the first time he'd heard that word applied to him. He was convinced he was exactly the opposite, after all. He didn't argue though, instead listening as Riley continued. It was his turn to feel that unpleasant twist in his chest at the idea of that kind of thought occurring to the other man.

Without thinking, he reached up to brush back some of Riley's hair, fingertips lingering, a butterfly-light touch along Riley's cheek. "Thank you. It's nice... to not be alone for once."

Alone was the usual, except for Gregory, and the demon's presence tended to make him desperately wish he was alone. "I'm glad, that those thoughts didn't do anything more than cross your mind. The world is a better place with you in it."

[eblouissant]

The touch was so impossibly gentle.

And yet it was charged with those motes of attraction that rippled between the both of them; attraction was something that Riley felt often on a more visual way-- able to appreciate men though with the express knowledge that he could not touch, and he was fine with that. He did not need to touch to appreciate art at it's core; humans were made to be beautiful in all their imperfections.

But this attraction was bone deep, he felt it underneath the surface. It vibrated through his marrow and deep within to some holy sanctuary where Liam's steps wandered to the beat of his heart. "Surviving can be difficult but there is always someone who will miss you."

[giveanything]

When Riley didn't recoil -- oh he should recoil, should wrench away and put as much distance between himself and Liam as he could possibly manage -- Liam found himself letting his touch linger, fingertips moving from where they barely grazed at his skin to instead let his hand cup at his cheek. He was overstepping, and he knew it. He was treading on ground that he had no business walking, a path that led to only trespass and sin.

'And forgive us our trespasses.'

"Would you miss me, Father? I wonder... I'm not sure anyone else would."

'As we forgive those who trespass against us.'

He'd made himself a ghost in many ways. His father, well, he'd never known his father to begin with, and his mother had passed a few years back. And Patrick, well, Liam was certain his baby brother would be relieved without the burden of him and all the evil he did in the world. Trick was all that was really left from his past, and Liam had deliberately kept the rest of the world at a distance since the day he learned what the deal he'd made as a child actually meant. He wasn't safe to be around, and with how stained in damnation as his hands were, he didn't really deserve anything but his solitude and the company of his keeper anyway.

'And lead us not into temptation.'

Yet here he was beside the sweetest most brilliant soul he could remember seeing, desperately seeking something he had no business having.

'But deliver us from evil.'

A caress of his thumb along the arch of a cheekbone, dark eyes fixed on blue, a full expanse of just the two of them, of heaven and hell and all things in between.

[eblouissant]

And yet, Riley did not pull away.

Everything within him thought that perhaps he should, that this was dangerous and he was playing with fire. The question as to if he would miss Liam felt loaded and heavy betwixt them, his tongue darted out to graze against his own lower lip. Not in anticipation, but in thought. Perhaps he was also mesmerized by the touch that was so gentle and so reverent. He had not gotten sin off of it, but a certain holiness.

How could he answer the question, how should he?

"Everyone deserves someone that would miss them... even those who think that they are evil when really they have been misguided." oh but Riley was stubborn, gentle but stubborn and insistant that Liam deserved better, that he did not ask for this-- that he had been taken advantage as a small child.

[giveanything]

It may have been a simple thoughtful action, but that tongue as it swiped across lips that had already captured Liam's fascination, certainly caught his attention. His gaze lingered longer than it should, and he didn't look at all contrite about it as he looked back to Riley's eyes when the priest spoke.

Ah.

He could feel that stubbornness in those words, to try to insist that there was something in him deserving of, well, human kindness. "Misguided is a kind way of describing a murderer and a monster." Though Riley was right. He did think he was evil. Liam called himself a murderer, but he'd never physically killed anyone. Spiritually, metaphysically, oh he'd done terrible things, poisoned souls and ruined lives and driven those broken souls to either an empty existence or an early grave at their own hands. He was the whisper in their ears at their weakest moments, the devil on so many shoulders to make sure that grace found no purchase in his victims.

Still his touch lingered, and he steered the subject away from looking too deeply into his own self loathing. "When was the last time you were properly kissed?"

[eblouissant]

Right now Liam was temptation, the most indolent of temptations that could have ever existed-- set in the molten combination of whiskey and chocolate within those eyes. He felt himself shiver as the pull felt nearly impossible, like a string that was pulling him closer and closer-- and perhaps he did find his way but a few inches closer as he was sucked into the gravity that danced from every pore of the other man.

And then he remembered himself, reaching into the basket to break the spell.

He had to break the spell, his willpower needed to be thorough and complete because Liam was a heady addictive dream the way that his body seemed to vibrate with each shadowed breath.

Out came the bag of cookies and he said rather hoarsely. "Cookies?"

[giveanything]

There was that flicker of hope in Liam's face when Riley leaned closer, but then his priest was retreating and reaching for... dessert. Ducking his head, he couldn't help a soft laugh. All right. Well, that was all evidence enough to Liam that this attraction was incredibly mutual. So he didn't see any reason to give up just yet.

"You never answered my question." When had Riley last been kissed? Before he took his vows? Before his time in the seminary? Or something stolen and forbidden after he'd taken up the priest collar? Inquiring minds, Father.

Liam reached over to take one of the cookies, nibbling at it even as his gaze never left Riley's face.

[eblouissant]

They had cookies between them now, that would at least break the spell that Liam had cast over him. But the attraction was very mutual, and it would be hard for him to hide it. It was not even a physical thing, he could have dealt with the physical side of things as he had before-- but there was something both profound and inherently profane in the way his skin seemed to tense with energy, contract with awareness.

Riley had a terrible poker face.

He concentrated on the chocolate chip cookie which had been given to him fresh by one of the nuns in the cafeteria who had taken him under her wing to feed the Priest. So Riley was given extras of all the baked goods since it had been noted that he had a riotous sweet tooth.

"The summer before seminary, myself and one of the guys I was on the swim team with decided to take a weekend camping trip and well.." he gestured a little bit. "A kiss happened." A lot more than a kiss had happened, it had been his last hurrah before seminary.

[giveanything]

Well, at least his gaydar was fully functioning. But then the way that Riley had been looking at him, the way there's a sudden frisson of energy between them each time their eyes meet, it was impossible to think otherwise. This was the first time that Liam had ever really felt anything like it. He was being bold here, in the flirting and the romantic overtures, and asking about the good priest's last kiss, but part of that was covering for what amounted to an extremely limited amount of experience. The fact of the matter was the entirety of his experience was with the demon who owned him -- the pact consummated when the contract had come due on his eighteenth birthday and again and again whenever Gregory wanted to remind Liam who he belonged to -- and the occasional 'friend' that Gregory loaned him out to.

So honestly a camping trip and some stolen kisses, among other things, sounded cozy and romantic. He smiled around another nibble of his cookie. "A farewell to the flesh before you settled into the clergy, mm?" Tragic really, that priests were supposed to forego physical intimacy of that nature. There was something achingly human about wanting connection -- in so many ways -- that to bar one form of it so completely seemed, well, it seemed foolish to Liam. Always had.

"Do you miss it? Being so close to someone else that you can't say for sure where they end and you begin?" As if Liam knew the feeling beyond mere overwhelming desire for it, missing something that he'd never actually had. He was, after all, a broken mess of a man.

[eblouissant]

That was such a ridiculously personal question, he was almost scandalized by it-- almost. Instead he turned a shade of pink that thankfully his wind whipped hair managed to hide quite cunningly though he did think about the question and then he shrugged ever so slightly. "I do not know, I have never had an experience like that before." not the sort of thing that was portrayed in movies and books; no-- it had been awkward and fumbling, and he was sure that it had been him wanting to get in that last bit of something before he had to lock in.

Most of my encounters, as a teenager was slightly awkward and disjointed though I suppose what makes them nostalgic is the fact that they were firsts, I suppose? I certainly would not look back on them and think that they were instances I would ever revisit."

Good really, that meant that he did not have anything to long for.. save for that whispering 'what-if' that danced in the back of his mind like a black-winged butterfly.