Latter Day Sinner

Frank, in his own not-so-humble opinion, thought he’d been very good at not thinking too hard about Gerard in the week that followed, all things considered.
Sure, occasionally the velvet smooth slide of their lips as the collided would occasionally appear in his head, or the way Gerard panted with pure lust, moaning as he gripped his arms.
And, of course, there was that ever-present image of the swell of Gerard’s cock pressing eagerly against his jeans. That was practically burned to the back of Frank’s retinas. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the thought that he had made a Priest get an erection. It was a sexier idea than perhaps it should have been.
Of course, and understandably, Frank found himself recounting the whole encounter to Mia, who watched him with genuine intrigue, her eyebrows lifting delicately in surprise. Or maybe she was just judging him. He couldn’t be sure – but wouldn’t blame her either way.
“So…so wait. You’re telling me that he was having a moral crisis about his vows, and that this ended up with you guys making out?” she asked slowly. Frank blushed and nodded, chewing his lip. Mia snickered.
“Damn, Iero. If I hadn’t met you both, I’d say that story was fake as hell,” she giggled. Frank sighed, running a hand through his hair and leaning back on her bed. He stared up at the ceiling, as if the white plaster might hold in it some secret to his situation.
“So that’s it. And I agreed to help him out on Sunday and…God, I don’t know. I never thought it’d go this far,” he murmured, biting his lip. Mia gave a little snort and leaned back so her back was against his side.
“You didn’t think it’d go this far, no. But you didn’t try to stop it, either,” she murmured softly, glancing back at him. Frank closed his eyes and let out a sigh. As much as he wished he could tell her she was wrong, she wasn’t. This was entirely his own fault. He should have respected Gerard’s wishes and just stayed away.
“I know. And maybe it’s too late to fix it now, but I wanna try,” he murmured. “He looked so…defeated. Like I’d smashed down a wall he’d spent forever building. And…and I don’t want him to stop being a Priest because of me. I don’t want him to have to let go of all that,”
“Then stop,”
“I can’t. I mean. I can’t just leave him alone. But I think I can make sure he stays on his path,” he murmured. He glanced up at Mia with a soft frown.
“He said he hasn’t been tempted in years. But he didn’t say he hadn’t been tempted ever. Maybe I could find out what happened last time,” he murmured. Mia shrugged.
“Could be an idea. Just be careful, okay? He has so much more to lose than you,” she said softly.
Frank let out a shaky laugh. He knew. He knew too damn well that Gerard was risking his soul for this.

By Sunday, Frank had almost decided that he wasn’t going to go. He did, though. Of course he did. No matter what façade he may try to conjure, he knew he wouldn’t be able to go too long without seeing the Priest. Even if it was just on a friendship basis, he knew he needed the other man.
But, of course, it wasn’t on a friendship basis.
“Frank, I’m glad to see you,” Gerard said coolly when Frank approached him in the vestry. His expression was calm and composed; almost mask-like in its impassiveness. His voice held the texture of the pages of an old book – crisp, dry, but still bursting with character. No matter how poised Gerard tried to act, he’d never be able to shake his Jersey drawl, that probably had more place in a nightclub than a Church. Frank smiled weakly.
“Good morning Father. You…you look well,” he murmured. The statement was almost amusing, because Frank actually hadn’t looked at him yet. His eyes were fixed on the floor. His shoes, he had decided, had less power over him than Gerard’s galaxy-swirled hazel eyes.
Gerard, regardless, smiled fondly.
“Thank you, Frank. As do you,” he said gently. He sounded like he was mentally dancing on eggshells, afraid to say anything besides generic phrases. Frank wasn’t sure exactly what he was afraid of – it’s not like Frank was going to jump him if he said a wrong word.
“So, uh. What do you need me to do?” Frank asked, finally glancing up at him. As expected, his chest gave a soft squeeze, and he felt himself blush.
Maybe he imagined it, but he thought he saw red blossoming under Gerard’s soft, pale cheeks in response. It was the only thing that assured him that this was mutual. He hadn’t dreamt that kiss, or the way Gerard’s whole body reacted to him. It was real. They were real.
Gerard smiled softly up at him, chewing a little on his lip. Frank’s eyes were immediately drawn to the action, his face reddening even more as he remembered what that lip felt like being pressed against his own.
“Well, I mean, just the same as usual. Make sure all the pews have Bibles and hymn sheets. Just…” Gerard waved a hand, “just make sure everything’s ready.”
Frank realised then that Gerard actually had nothing for him to do at all. He’d asked Frank here because he wanted to see him, to be around him.
The idea made Frank’s stomach flutter, and he gave Gerard a knowing smile.
“Alright, Father,” he murmured, stepping back.
Gerard paused for a moment before clearing his throat.
“Uh, Frank?”
“Yes, Father?” he asked, turning around. Gerard smiled fondly.
“Thank you for coming to help,” he murmured. Frank ducked his head and smiled, and for a moment, he saw Gerard’s façade slip, revealing a certain softness and light in his eyes. Frank’s heart was a hummingbird, thrumming her wings against the steel cage of his ribs in a plight to escape.
“Anything for you, Father,” he murmured. He half-bowed as he left the vestry.
If he’d listened really carefully, he might have heard the gentle hitch in Gerard’s breath as he walked away.

Unsurprisingly, by the time the Church opened its doors for Mass, it was absolutely spotless.
Frank had had to return to the vestry several times to ask for new tasks, and each time Gerard had just waved a hand and given him something useless and menial to do. It only further confirmed Frank’s assumption that he was only there because Gerard wanted to see him.
His suspicion was further realised on the few occasions when Gerard would emerge, make random small talk, and walk back to his office.
It was infuriating to Frank, but it was something. Besides, it’s not like Frank minded the interactions either. He’d missed Gerard like this – warm, soothing, calm. It was a huge jump from the man who’d been pressed desperately against him only a few days before.
Just before Mass actually started, Frank, as always, found Gerard about to approach the pulpit.
“Am I coming to your place after this?” he asked casually. They’d always done it before, so he didn’t see why now should be any different. Several emotions flicked over Gerard’s face – first panic, then confusion, then a cool, but not entirely composed, smile.
“No, thank you Frank. If you’re not staying for the service, you’re free to go,” he said lightly, his words delicate and carefully chosen. Frank felt his stomach tighten, his smile faltering for a moment.
“Oh, I just thought we-“
Gerard’s eyes lit up with a holy fire that threatened to scorch Frank’s will. He looked furious, even as the cool smile still graced his lips.
“We’d what? What could we possibly do?” he demanded, seeming to grow in height as Frank stared at him with an incomprehensible expression.
“We used to hang out,” he mumbled, feeling a lot like a petulant child at that moment. Gerard rolled his eyes.
“Oh, don’t give me that,” he hissed. Frank was mortified by how genuinely afraid he was. Gerard, in all his Saint-like glory, was raining down a holy wrath from the heavens, and it was burning Frank even more than his lips had.
“Gerard. Calm down. I’ll go home, okay?” he blinked away the tears that threatened the edge of his eye.
“I’ll…I’ll go. I w-won’t come back.” His lip had begun to tremble, and he felt crimson shoot across his face. He was actually crying. He felt ridiculous.
Something about seeing Frank so torn apart made Gerard soften. That wasn’t what he’d wanted. He hadn’t meant to explode like that-
He reached out to put a hand on Frank’s shoulder, but when the boy shoved it off, he recoiled like he’d been burnt.
That would at least make two of them.
“Frank. Frank, I’m sorry. I’m just…I’m scared,” he murmured, his voice edging on unfeeling, but with a crack of pain and regret shot through it.
Fucking good.
“Oh forget it. Forget this and forget you. I don’t wanna be your fuckin’ friend if one stupid kiss is enough to make you hate me,”
“I don’t-
“You do! You do hate me. I can see it. And maybe you like me a whole lot, and maybe we could actually be something. But you hate me, too. Because I was the one who broke down that wall. I made you doubt yourself. I made you vandalise that little temple in your head, and you hate me for it.” He paused to wipe his face, ignoring the shocked look that graced Gerard’s features.
“But none of that was me. I was just here. You’re the one who likes me, you chose to kiss me – twice. And now you’re choosing to act like a fuckin’ asshole. So screw you, Gerard,” he spat.
Gerard was silent. He had nothing to say – there was nothing that could be said. Frank had got everything absolutely right. He looked down, feeling very ashamed of himself. None of this was Frank’s fault – not entirely.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
“Forget it,”
“No. Don’t. Look…come to my place, okay?” he said softly. It was the first genuine thing he’d said all day. Frank was actually tempted to do it, too, if only so he could have more moments of sincerity.
He looked up at Gerard and sighed.
“Fine,” he muttered. Gerard opened his mouth to speak, but Frank just turned and walked away. He couldn’t be dealing with this. Not right now. Maybe not ever.

By the time Gerard approached the house, Frank had convinced and un-convinced himself to leave about eight times. He didn’t want to see him, but he did.
He wanted to argue with him, but he didn’t. It was a horrible situation and had Frank wishing, for the thousandth time, that he’d never met Gerard at all.
But then again, he didn’t want that.
Gerard was silent as he unlocked the door, seeming overly focused on the task. He leaned heavily on his cane, and Frank felt a swell of emotion. He hated being reminded how old Gerard was.
“How’s your leg doin’?” Frank asked suddenly. Gerard looked up, genuinely surprised by the question.
“Um, my leg?”
“The…the injured one,” Frank said delicately. Gerard worried his bottom lip between his teeth, pushing the door open.
“You don’t wanna hear ‘bout all that,” he murmured. It was his way of saying ‘my leg is fucking terrible, thank you for asking’. Frank, despite their argument, frowned with concern. He didn’t like the idea of Gerard being in pain.
“Is it hurting you?” he asked, following Gerard to the sofa. He didn’t miss the man’s sigh of relief when he flopped onto it. That was certainly new.
“It’s…I should’ve seen it coming,” he mumbled, shifting a little. Frank frowned.
“Seen what?”
“The leg. It ah, it’s becoming a little too small. The hinges don’t work well. It’s just old and falling apart, and it’s…ridiculously hard to walk,” he said with a soft, sad laugh. Frank immediately felt guilty. Here he was, starting petty arguments, and Gerard was in actual pain.
“Can you take it off?” he asked softly. Gerard gave a little amused snort.
“I can. But I’m not gonna do that with you here. Its… it’s weird. People always say they can handle it, and then get super grossed out,” he murmured. Frank touched his shoulder gently, not missing the way Gerard flinched.
“I don’t mind. I’d rather you were comfortable,” Frank said gently.
Something in his tone, to Gerard, seemed very genuine. He nodded slowly, then blushed.
“Um. I-it involves me takin’ my pants off. Is that…is that too weird?” he asked slowly, watching Frank with reserved eyes. Frank sighed and clicked his tongue.
“I’m not gonna be weirded out about you taking your pants off to take off your prosthetic leg, Gerard,” he said. That being said, he did get a little shiver of panic at the thought of seeing Gerard in just his underwear. It was an image that was usually reserved for his own late-night affairs. But he’d push that aside for now.
Gerard nodded slowly and undid his belt, not looking at Frank as he did.
Because hell, the last thing he needed while he was doing this was to get a boner.
In fact, both men kept their eyes respectfully averted from the other, until Gerard managed to slide his jeans all the way down, kicking them away from himself. He was unbearably self-conscious, but he trusted Frank.
Through everything, he still trusted Frank.
When Frank turned back, he tried his very hardest to keep his eyes on the other man’s face – although, he wasn’t entirely successful. At least Gerard had the decency to act like he hadn’t noticed the way Frank’s eyes flickered downwards.
Frank cleared his throat, tugging his eyes away from the soft, pale thighs and smiled weakly.
“You need some help gettin’ it off?” Frank asked. He coughed, red puffing on his cheeks. “I mean…I mean the l-leg,” he stammered.
Gerard sighed, reaching down to rub nervously at the plastic clasped around his knee. Even from where Frank was sitting, he could see that the skin was irritated and red, some small lesions in the doughy flesh of his thigh.
“No, I can do it myself,” Gerard murmured, running his hand over his leg. His fingers brushed the soft cotton of the stump sock which, apparently, did nothing in terms of comfort or fit.
Gerard bit his lip as he glanced up at Frank, before gently undoing the strap, and holding the limb firmly. He exhaled as there was a gentle click, and Frank watched, curious, as the limb fell away in the older man’s hand.
Gerard didn’t make eye contact as he set the leg down on the floor, rolling his sock down to reveal his leg, and the cut-off stump at the end.
Frank was surprised by how smooth it was. It was almost like there was never anything there at all.
Gerard looked up sheepishly, biting his bottom lip hard, the pink skin fading to a pale, bone white under the pressure of his teeth.
“Is it gross?” Gerard asked hoarsely. His voice revealed that he was expecting an answer in the affirmative, and Frank felt his chest tighten. The poor man had no idea how beautiful Frank thought he was. Frank looked up and smiled, shaking his head.
“No. Of course not, don’t be silly,” he hummed. He didn’t have to try not to glance down now – he was captured by Gerard’s eyes.
The Priest, to Frank’s joy, gazed back at him, giving a little content sigh.
“Uh, Frank?” he asked softly, not blinking or averting his eyes. Frank smiled.
“Yeah?”
“Uh. I got some coconut oil in my bedroom. Can you grab it for me? It’s the top shelf,” he murmured.
Admittedly, Frank was a little disappointed, but he nodded all the same, moving towards the stairs and climbing them two at a time.
There were only two rooms at the top of the stairs. One was a bathroom, the other, Frank assumed, was Gerard’s bedroom.
Unsurprisingly, there was a strange, pitted feeling deep in Frank’s stomach, akin to nervousness. He was about to enter Gerard’s bedroom. It was momentous, in a sense.
Before he could make up any excuses to himself, he pushed the door open gently, peering into the room.
He wasn’t exactly surprised by what he saw. There was a wide double bed, with orange and red velvet bedsheets. The furniture in the room was mainly dark oak and, to Frank’s amusement, entirely colour co-ordinated. Even the off-white wallpaper and brick red carpet fit the room. It looked professional almost – like something you’d see in a hotel.
The only thing that made the room seem distinctly Gerard’s, was the mess of paper and art supplies on the desk, the small stack of books on the bedside table, and the large, ornate cross hanging above the bed.
That bed.
Frank couldn’t tear his eyes from it. A thousand dirty thoughts raced through his mind, even without his consent. He wondered if Gerard had ever slid a hand down his waistband, panting as he touched himself. In that bed.
But as well, he felt a fondness run through him. There was something very intimate about seeing where someone sleeps.
He managed to snap himself out of his trance a moment later, and made his way over to Gerard’s drawers. He didn’t realise he’d been waiting to see something incriminating until he didn’t – just a bible, a row of collars, and some moisturisers. Well, okay then.
Frank sighed, shaking his head at himself. If he wanted things to be okay between the two of them, he had to begin by acting normal himself. Gerard was trying (and failing), so Frank should too.
He sighed, sifting through the drawer until he found the bottle of the oil in the drawer. He snatched it and slammed the drawer, before fleeing from the room. He had the overwhelming feeling that the cross on the wall was staring at him, extracting his dirty thoughts to give to Gerard later.
And God, the older man would never speak to him again if he knew.
When he returned downstairs, Gerard was lounged on the sofa, watching the TV intently. He looked so comfortable and content that Frank couldn’t help but find it endearing, smiling fondly as he passed him the coconut oil.
“Here you go, dude,” he smiled. Gerard grinned gratefully up at him and unscrewed the cap, squeezing a generous amount onto the red, irritated skin of his leg, groaning with relief as the skin was soothed.
Frank smiled, moving around the sofa to sit comfortably next to him, leaning back and grinning.
“S’at better?” he murmured. Gerard beamed.
“Much. Thank you,” he murmured, rubbing his own leg. He sighed, frowning down at the thick red band of damaged skin.
“Fuckin’ thing. It’s been too long. I should have gotten a new one years ago. Just…can’t afford it,” he mumbled with a little frown.
Frank felt his heart squeeze at the soft, defeated look on his face. Maybe, though, the thing that hurt the most, was that he seemed totally resigned. He knew this was the best he’d get, and there was no fighting it.
It wasn’t fair, how that worked. Gerard was pure and sweet, and good. It was almost impossible to find people who were so genuinely wonderful, yet here he was. All he ever tried to do was be the best man he could, and he got repaid with feelings he didn’t want, and an injury he didn’t deserve. Even his house, for all its homeliness, had signs of wear and age.
Frank realised then why purity was so important to Gerard. It was all he had.
“What about your insurance?” Frank asked weakly. Gerard smiled sadly, looking almost pained.
“Wouldn’t even cover half. It’s just not in the cards. God-“ he bit his lip, shaking his head gently. “Maybe I should just… I could use a chair. They’re cheaper, and it can’t go wrong,” he said softly. Frank sighed, moving a little closer. He wasn’t sure if he was comforting Gerard or himself.
“You could. But is that what you want?” Frank asked. Gerard sighed.
“I…no. In a word, no. I have friends who use them, and they swear by ‘em. But I’m too old to learn how to do all that now. I’m good at using my leg, even broken as it is. It’s sort of too late for me,” he murmured, averting his eyes. Frank sighed, touching Gerard’s hand.
He was relieved when the other man didn’t pull away, but instead looked up and smiled softly at him.
“You’re not that old, Gerard,” he murmured, stroking his thumb gently over Gerard’s hand. The Priest smiled again, but it was even weaker this time.
“I appreciate you saying so. But I am. I can feel it. I’m so…old. God, when the hell did that happen?” he mumbled. Frank slid his hand into Gerard’s slowly, not taking his eyes off the other man.
Gerard hesitated for a second, and then allowed him to take his hand, entwining their fingers together. Frank swallowed hard, and tried to seem composed and calm.
He wasn’t though. Of course he wasn’t.
“You’re not old, Gerard. I…you’re not as old as you think. I promise,” he smiled. Gerard bit his lip and – oh, God – he blushed, batting his eyelashes a little.
“No?”
“No. I promise. You’re still real pretty,” he smiled. Gerard ducked his head and grinned, peeking up at him through his eyelashes. He looked so, so sweet. And really, he looked very young when he was being sheepish.
“I’m pretty?” he giggled, looking at him fondly.
There was a moment – just a split second – where Frank just thought ‘oh fuck it’. Gerard was close enough, the mood was right. He could practically feel the air vibrating around them from the pure want between them. It was like his heart was being attracted to Gerard’s by a powerful magnet, threatening to burst through his cage.
He could tilt his head up and kiss him. He could.
But he didn’t.
“Yeah, Gerard. You’re very pretty.”

Notes