Matt sits in the tiny confines of a confessional of a church, drumming his fingers against the sill of the grate separating his side of the booth from the other.

He's slightly startled when he hears the thud of a door emanate from the opposite side and watches through the screen as a figure settles in next to him.

"You're here at an odd hour," the figure says in almost an impish tone.

"I'm not any good at keeping track of time," Matt says rather nonchalantly.

"It's nearly four a.m, so I'll take your word for it. Lucky for you our doors are open twenty-four seven."

Matt shrugs and continues drumming his fingers.

After a few moments of silent, Matt finally pipes up.

"So...do I just call you Father?"

"If you like. What's your name, son?"

Matt stares at the silhouette silently for a few moments before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his cigarettes. He tears open the plastic wrapping, lifts the top and pats the pack against his hand until one of the tiny white sticks frees itself from the rest of the pack. He plucks it out and sets it loosely between his lips. After reaching into his back pocket for his lighter, he lights it and takes a long slow pull before tossing the pack and lighter to the side.

Smirking, he exhales smoke as he hears the person on the other side of the screen grumble "I asked you a question...and are you smoking? There's no smoking in church, sir."

"Matthew" He states simply, with the smirk still plastered to his face.

"What?"

"You asked my name."

"Oh yes, well, Matthew, there is no smoking in church."

Having taken another drag of his cigarette, Matt blows smoke directly into the screen causing the figure to cough and mumble in annoyance.

"You said that already, thanks for letting me know."

"You're not going to put it out?" asks the figure in a shrill voice.

"And waste a perfectly good smoke? No fucking way."

"Language, Matthew!" the figure gasps.

"Sorry," Matt manages to splutter out while stifling laughter.

The figure sighs in dismay before asking "Do you have any confessions to make, Matthew, or are you just here to desecrate the church?"

Matt sighs, leaning on the sill that separates them with his elbows.

"I don't know, Father. I'm not sure I have much to confess."

The priest tuts dramatically and takes up an almost mocking tone.

"Now, Matthew, I'm sure you have something you want to get off your chest. You couldn't have come here just to be a nuisance."

Smirking, Matt leans further into grates separating them before speaking.

"Well, there is a few things that are probably worth mentioning. Like last night for instance, one of the guys I work with, he talked the lady at the desk of the hotel we were staying at into giving him a key card to my room. He snuck in just as I was getting out of the shower and blew me..."

The smirk turns into a wry grin when he hears the priest practically choking on his own tongue before he continues.

"After that I pinned him to the bed and fucked him senseless. I'm not sure that's much of a confession since, judging by the looks we got the next morning, just about everyone on the room floor knew."

Matt sighs wistfully at the recounting of the story as the priest sits speechless for a few moments before sputtering.

"W-well I..."

He's abruptly cut off as Matt pipes up in a rather nonchalant tone while watching the ash of his cigarette burn slowly.

"Speaking of, don't you priests take a vow of abstinence or something like that?"

"Uh, well..."

"It's just" Matt interrupts yet again. "You seem pretty tightly wound, I'm wondering whens the last time you got off."

Matt bites back a chuckle as the priest scoffs in disdain.

"I mean, it must be hard for you, not having that kind of pleasure ever..."

His sentence trails off as he takes one last pull of his cigarette before dropping it on the floor and snuffing it with his shoe.

He waits until he hears the priest ready himself to babble a response before cutting in yet again.

"Unless...unless you've got some confessions of your own to make."

He hears the priest shift in his seat before choking out "What?"

"Been bending any alter boys over the pews, Father?"

Matt raises an eyebrow and veers back as the screen suddenly slams closed. Not seconds later, the door to his tiny confessional is swinging open and standing before him is a very red faced priest.

"Matthew Thomas Skiba!" The priest all but growls at the man sitting in front of him.

Matt grins, standing up and taking a step towards the priest before, without warning, grabbing him by his belt loop and pulling him into the booth. He promptly pins him to the wall with one hand while closing the door once more with the other.

The priest's face immediately goes from that of complete anger and annoyance to one of shock and tension.

Matt takes a step forward pressing his chest flush against the priest's and leaning into his ear and speaking softly.

"I don't remember telling you my whole name, Father."

The priest shivers as soon as Matt's breath hits his ear. He gulps and exhales, shaky and open mouthed. His eyes meet steely blue ones and he stands there, stock still, staring, his heart pounding in his ears.

In a matter he brings his head forward presses his lips to Matt so forcefully that the faint clicking of teeth can be heard.

Within moments, hands are roaming and tongues are mingling. Soon fingers are struggling with belt buckles, tugging at material until they both have they're pants around they're thighs and they're rubbing against each other raw. Nails scrape skin, mouths nip and suck at whatever they can reach and moans are stifled by the smacking of lips until they both tense and shudder, gripping each other desperately.

After a few seconds of complete silence and labored breaths, they smile at each other serenely.

Matt leans down and kisses the now sweaty forehead of the priest, mumbling into his skin.

"Gerard?"

"Hmmm?"

"You should play dress up more often."