Latter Day Sinner

The priest’s home was far more comfortable than it looked from the outside. While the exterior was cold, grey brick and flat white panelled windows, the inside was very, very warm. Splashes of red, gold and orange decorated every possible surface, with several posters covering the wall. Some were, of course, religious – paintings of Jesus or saints. But there were others. Band posters – some of which that made Frank raise his eyebrows in surprise – lined a wall by the staircase. What really caught his attention, though, were the pictures stuck up haphazardly around the cluttered desk to the corner of the living room. They looked hand-drawn in a style that was reminiscent of comic books. Needless to say, it wasn’t really what Frank had expected of the home of a priest.
The sofa that Frank was perched on was made of some old, thickened leather that had perhaps once been black, but was now a dusty brown with occasional spots of red. As Gerard sat down on it, it gave out a soft creak and the unmissable scent of stale cigarettes. Gerard smiled, passing Frank a mug of tea.
“You have a nice home, Father,” Frank commented, taking a gentle sip from his mug. He fought the urge to moan, because hell – Gerard made a good cup of tea. It warmed his throat and chest, and he felt his whole body relaxing, losing the tension that remained on his shoulders. Gerard smiled, looking over the rim of his cup at Frank.
“Thank you, Frank. I haven’t been in it for very long, but I think I’ve managed to personalise it,” he said, looking fondly at a David Bowie poster plastered onto the fading wallpaper. Frank smiled politely and continued to just sip at his tea, not speaking for the time being. Maybe if he didn’t mention it, Gerard would forget all about the window.
However, if anyone was going to forget about something like that, it certainly wasn’t going to be a priest. A few moments later, Gerard set his mug down on the table and fixed Frank with a stern look.
“Now, Frank. As grateful as I am for you being so co-operative with this whole window business, the fact remains that you destroyed public property. If I don’t take action against you, the police will,” he explained. Frank sighed, setting his own cup down. He was almost tempted to give him puppy dog eyes, but he was pretty certain that it wouldn’t work one bit. Frank just nodded in agreement.
“I know, sir,” he mumbled. Gerard gave a soft smile.
“So, here is my proposition. I’ll call your parents and tell them what you did, so they can think of their own punishment. Alongside that, I’d like you to do some jobs for me around the Church, to help pay off the money I’ll have to spend on the new window. Is that fair enough?” he asked gently. Frank wanted to complain about his treatment, but he had to admit that yes, it was a very good deal. It was better than getting the cops involved, anyway. Frank ran his hands over his jeans and sighed, before eventually looking up at Gerard.
“Yes. That’s…very generous,” he said sincerely. Gerard smiled, reaching over and putting a hand on Frank’s knee.
“I’m glad you think so. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at seven, so you can help me prepare for the service at nine. Is that okay?” he asked, watching Frank carefully. Frank was about to open his mouth to complain, but he caught Gerard’s eyes. Once again, there was that vague shadow of amusement buried in the golden hazel of his irises, almost like he knew exactly what Frank was going to say. It was unnerving, to say the least, to have someone staring through you. Especially if that person was a priest. All at once, every dirty or immoral thought Frank had ever had seemed to spring to his mind, projected onto the galactical shimmer of the priest’s eyes, and Frank was ashamed.
“Yes, Father,” Frank breathed weakly, chewing on his lip ring. Gerard nodded, smiling softly as he picked his mug back up. He took a small sip and sighed.
“Thank you, Frank,” he said gently, before motioning that Frank should have more of his own tea. Frank felt…strange. Not bad, just strange. Had he been anywhere else, he’d have ruled out the idea of a religious experience, but now it seemed entirely possible and likely. He’d never felt anything like it before – like a rush of pure energy igniting his bones, setting him alight from the inside. He wondered if Gerard could see the light shining through him – was it light or hellfire? He imagined that the light was shining shadows onto the sharp cuts of the priest’s face, yet the older man had no reaction. He sat as serenely as a saint, sipping out of his porcelain cup. The clink of his squared teeth against the rim echoed through Frank’s head like the toll of a bell and he found his hand moving to grasp the other man’s before he could stop it. It wasn’t his fault. He felt so overwhelmed, he needed to feel something real. To his upmost surprise, Gerard just smiled softly.
“Can I help you, Frank? You look…strange,” he admitted. Frank swallowed.
“Father, have you ever spoken to God?” he asked, his voice tight. Gerard smiled, a fond, adoring look passing over his eyes – extinguishing the amused fire that was already dying in them.
“Well, yes. Every day, I speak to God as many times as I feel He will allow it. I think there is no better love than the love of God, and so I speak to him at every given moment,” he explained. Frank made a frustrated noise and shifted.
“Has he ever spoken back?” he asked. He was just desperate to pin a cause to the strange feeling in his mind. Gerard tilted his head, that same whimsical smile on his lips.
“Yes and no. He’s never spoken to me, but I know he hears me, and I know he loves me. I get this…feeling,” his eyes were glazed over slightly, a smile still playing around his lips. It was endearing to Frank, but didn’t help much in terms of his predicament.
“Does it feel like your whole body is made of light and…and like you might explode?” he asked, his tone veering on desperation. Gerard laughed softly, but nodded.
“Yes, Frank. That’s exactly what it feels like,”

Frank didn’t know why God would speak to him. Sure, he was doing a good deed by helping Gerard out, but he was only doing that so the former wouldn’t call the cops. He didn’t figure that was a good enough thing to call God’s attention to him. For heaven’s sake, he didn’t even go to Church. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d prayed. It was all very strange, and certainly more than enough to keep him lying awake, staring up at the ceiling through tired, bloodshot eyes. If he’d looked, the clock on his bedside table would have told him that it was three-fourteen am, and that he only had about two and a half hours left of sleep before he had to wake up. But he didn’t check. He just stared up at the ceiling, trying to find some answer in the faint yellow stains and the soft cracks along the powdery surface.
He didn’t know what to think, in all honesty. Maybe it’d been God, or maybe he’d just been anxious. All he knew was that he had to stay close to Gerard. The older man, for whatever reason, was the cause of that feeling he’d had earlier, and he liked it. Not only that, but there was something very refreshing about the older man. Perhaps it was the clerical collar that he’d seen resting on his desk, or the way his eyes shone with amusement he didn’t even attempt to hide, but Frank was interested in him. He’d never spoken to a priest, save for being scolded through the diamond windows of a confessional. Who knew, maybe Gerard could save him?
Although, the question still stood in his mind: did he really need saving?

While staying up all night had seemed like a good idea at the time, when his alarm clock went off at precisely six-fourty-six, Frank felt a strong wave of nausea that was only intensified by the insistent beeping of the clock. He smacked a hand down onto it, revelling in the silence for only a moment, before he remembered why it had gone off in the first place.
Priest. Church. Broken window. Community service.
Frank sighed and, after a few moments of trying to convince himself not to, kicked his blankets off of himself and sat up, a pout on his lips. He so didn’t want to be spending his Sunday like this – but hell, at least he wouldn’t be in jail. He slid off the bed, his feet touching the floor and immediately filling with that disorientating, almost insect-like buzz that came with early mornings and feet touching the floor a few hours before it was considered sane to do so.
He got ready in a daze, sliding into his smart pants and a relatively dressy shirt – at least, it was smart enough for Church, and he figured that’s all that mattered.
In the spirit of decency, Frank removed his facial piercings and didn’t bother with makeup – he had a feeling that Gerard would just ask him to take it off, anyway.
By the time his clock showed that he had five minutes in which to get to the church, Frank was just about ready. Of course, he hadn’t quite managed to bend the space-time continuum, so it was highly unlikely that he’d actually make it to the church for seven.
As he walked with the brown-red of the leaves making a fiery canopy above his head, he wondered how insistent Gerard was with the accuracy of attendance. He imagined that he’d be fairly cool – although, he wasn’t sure. He was only going to be about five minutes late or so. Maybe the older man wouldn’t notice at all. That’s, of course, if Frank was very lucky – which he rarely was.
As it turned out, he was exactly seven minutes late to church, and by the time he got there, Gerard was nowhere to be seen. He frowned, dropping his bag onto a pew in the back and walking through.
“Father?” he called, peering around the church. He didn’t hear a reply, so to speak – but he did hear humming from the back room. He didn’t recognise the song, but automatically assumed it was a hymn. He followed the soft noise as it echoed off the tall stone walls, his hands pressed into his pockets. The closer he got, the more he realised that the song wasn’t a hymn at all – in fact, he was almost certain that Gerard was humming The Killers. He wasn’t sure why, but Frank was extremely amused by that idea.
Eventually, he reached the source of the humming and opened the door. He’d expected to see Gerard sitting at a desk, or reading a bible, or even praying. What he didn’t think he’d see was the man, entirely shirtless as he changed into his clothes for the service. If the situation wasn’t mortifying enough, Gerard met his eyes in the mirror and gasped, almost falling over as he grabbed for something to cover himself with.
“F-Frank. Oh, I-“ he stammered, quickly pulling his shirt on. Frank didn’t quite grasp that he should probably leave – he just stared at Gerard, entirely dumbfounded. It’s not that he didn’t know that priests had the ability to not wear clothes, it was just that it had never happened in front of him. Much later, he’d have to deal with the fact that he wasn’t entirely repulsed by the sight, nor the idea – but for now, he was busy spluttering apologies.
“I’m so sorry, sir. I couldn’t find you, and I was late, and I wanted to apologise, and then I saw and now…oh man, do I need to confess? Is seeing your priest shirtless a sin? Do you have to confess? Hell, do priests confess? Can I say hell in church?”
By the time Frank had finished rambling, Gerard had put his shirt on and slid his collar into place. Despite the awkward situation, he smiled at the boy.
“Hang on, let me think. First, no you don’t have to confess, unless you feel like you need to. No, I don’t think it is. No, not for that. Yes, they do. And no, you can’t,” he said. His eyes were doing that thing again, and Frank smiled a little. It was around that time that the panic that would ensue later that night began to ignite in his chest – he just didn’t realise it just yet. Frank gave a soft laugh, relaxing almost immediately.
“Well. Okay. Good to know. And I’m real sorry for bursting in on you –I’ll knock next time,” he assured him. Gerard put a hand on his shoulder and smiled.
“Thank you, Frank. I appreciate it,” he grinned. Unfortunately for Frank, that touch, mixed with that smile, made his soon-to-be-panic arrive a couple hours earlier than it would have. Still, it was to happen later that evening, and he was still unaware of the oncoming emotional storm. For now, he was content.
Frank shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled up at the other man.
“So uh, what do you need me to do, Father?” he asked. Gerard grabbed his cane from the wall and beckoned him to follow, leading him out of the room. Frank followed obediently, letting his eyes roam around the Church. He remembered it fairly well from his childhood, although there had been some changes made (not including, of course, the large hole in Jesus’ face in the window). The cross at the front of the room was bigger than before it. He was fairly sure the pews were new too – made now out of shiny rosewood, as opposed to the dull maple they had been previously.
“Here,” Gerard said, interrupting his thoughts. He gestured to a pile of bibles, and another pile of sheets, printed on light blue paper. The older man smiled softly.
“Make sure each bible has a sheet tucked inside the front page. Then just distribute them around the pews,” he instructed. Frank looked over the table – the job seemed easy enough. There weren’t many people in the town, so it was a small church, and therefore a small job. He smiled easily up at Gerard.
“Yes, sir,” he said with a smile. Gerard chuckled and patted his shoulder.
“I appreciate it, Frank. It’s hard for me to do that kind of thing with this,” he said, gesturing to his cane distastefully. Frank began to get to work, easily sliding the sheets into the cover of the bibles. He wanted to ask Gerard why he needed the cane, but he didn’t want to intrude. Gerard had been respectful to him thus far, and he reasoned to give the priest the same courtesy.
Still, that was easier said than done, and Frank could feel the question clawing up his throat. He was actually relieved when Gerard excused himself to the back room to prepare himself for the service.
Frank eventually got used to the monotonous movements of sliding paper into books, and putting them to one side, and didn’t realise he was finished until he reached for a book that wasn’t there.
“That’s very good, Frank,” Gerard commented. The younger man actually jumped – he hadn’t realised the priest had returned. He turned around and saw Gerard leaning against the podium, smiling fondly at him. Frank shrugged, collecting the books into his arms.
“I mean, it was easy. It’s not as bad as I was expecting,” he said, beginning to move down the aisles and distribute the books. The gentle click of wood against marble indicated that Gerard was following him, so he wasn’t so startled this time when he spoke.
“Really? That worries me. What sort of awful thing did you assume I’d ask you to do?” he asked, grinning broadly. Frank laughed, not turning around as he focused on his task.
“Well, I didn’t know. I was just hoping it didn’t involve me cleaning anything, or being one of those people that greet people. That would suck,” he murmured. Gerard laughed gently. The sound, for whatever reason, reminded Frank of smooth whiskey being poured over a glass of ice.
“No, nothing like that. I just find it sort of difficult to do things by myself here, especially things that involve two hands,” he said, referencing again – or so Frank assumed – his cane. Frank nodded slowly.
“I can imagine. And uh, I’m happy to help,” he said gently. Gerard hummed in agreement, and for a few moments, the men fell into a comfortable silence, Frank moving along the aisles, and Gerard walking a few paces behind him, his cane clicking against the floor.
“So uh, you didn’t call my parents after all, huh?” Frank asked. He only knew because if his parents had received a phone call, he would certainly know about it. Gerard made a soft noise, shrugging even though he knew Frank couldn’t see.
“I didn’t feel the need to. You’re very co-operative,” he said gently. Frank reached the end of the pews and turned around, smiling at Gerard.
“Yeah?”
“Yes. I mean, there’s no point in getting you in trouble if you’ve already taken responsibility for your actions. Once you’ve paid off the window, we’ll be even.” A relieved look passed over Frank’s features and he grinned.
“Thank you so much, Father. I really appreciate it,” he said. Gerard chuckled and smiled at him, but didn’t give a verbal response. Something passed between them in that moment. One minute, Frank was staring up into those star-filled eyes, and the next, Gerard seemed to be glowing. It was like each pulse of his heart was filling him with more light, the galaxies in his eyes swirling with an intensity that would put the real stars to shame. That wasn’t the weirdest part, though. This orb of light, igniting through Gerard’s bones and filling his skin, began to move outwards. It throbbed and pulsed in the air, until it touched Frank’s skin, too. He expected it to be hot, but it wasn’t – it was cool, but still had a gentle warmth to it. He felt like a Spring afternoon, with flowers sprouting in his stomach, entwining in his ribs and blossoming through the veins in his lungs. Birds perched on his collarbones and breathed soft symphonies into his ear, as the sunlight haze emitting from Gerard’s body filled every inch of his being. He could barely see the Priest now – he was bathed in a glimmering, blinding stream of light, with no apparent source. The only thing Frank could deduce was that the light was coming from Gerard’s very soul.
And then it was gone, with the blink of an eye.
There was no light. No Spring. No flowers, or birds. It was just him and the man, twice his own age, standing alone, crowded by the church walls. Gerard was standing so close to Frank that the younger man could see the hint of stubble that he’d missed when shaving, and faintly smell the coffee on his lips. When Gerard’s tongue darted out to lick at his bottom lip, he saw the muscle flatten, and the wet line that was left behind. Maybe it was the empty church, or the distance, or the strange feeling that was settling over both of them, but their breathing seemed to be the only sound in the world – deafening in the holy silence of the church.
“Um. Anyway,” Gerard breathed. His voice was like an avalanche, shaking the foundations beneath Frank’s feet and forcing him back into reality. Frank took a shaking step back, nearly tripping over his own feet as he did. He grabbed onto the dark wood of the pew and smiled weakly up at him.
“Um. Yeah. You wanted me to… uh. Do something?” he asked, very disorientated from his experience. It was almost like what he’d had the night before but…more powerful, somehow. It was more beautiful, too. Gerard laughed, his cheeks blossoming with a pinkish flush. He leaned heavily on his cane for support, the white of his knuckles pressing against his skin, taught over the bone. That was the only time so far that Frank had seen Gerard anything but composed. He glanced back up to his face and saw the man looking to the large cross at the front of the church, his jaw clenched so hard the veins stood out in his forehead. Something was clearly bothering him. (In actuality, Gerard was currently having a minor version of the panic that would plague Frank later that evening.)
“Father?” Frank asked weakly, reaching out to touch his arm. Before he could, Gerard seemed to snap out of his trance and jumped back a little, using his cane to steady himself. He smiled weakly.
“Frank. Yes. Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat. He looked over the church. “Follow me,” he instructed, leading the way back to the front, moving faster than should have been possible with the aid of his cane. Frank cleared his throat, for some reason feeling entirely embarrassed, and followed silently behind him, trying to shake off the last remains of stardust that clung to the
back of his mind.

The rest of that morning was fairly mundane. Gerard had Frank doing menial jobs around the church, helping to prepare for the service. While Frank didn’t go to church himself, he was always appreciative of the effort that was put into the ceremonies – but now, even more so. He didn’t realise how many little things had to be done. Nor could he even imagine how Gerard was able to do it on his own with his cane.
He asked about it at one point while he was helping set things out on the table, and Gerard just shrugged.
“I do what I can with what I was given by the Lord. If a slight limp and the assistance of a cane is all I have impairing my life, then I have no reason to complain. Although-“ he stopped, giving Frank a gentle smile “-I’m not at all ungrateful for your help. This is a lot smoother and faster. So thank you,” he said brightly. Frank shrugged nonchalantly.
“It’s nothing. You’re…not bad to talk to,”
That made Gerard laugh, the sound reverberating off the marble walls. His smile was wide and slightly lopsided, and Frank felt a softening in his chest (and really, that should have been his first red flag. But it wasn’t. Not yet.)
“I’m glad to hear that, Frank. You’re okay, too,” he said. That smirk crossed Gerard’s face again, and Frank had the same thought as before – a Priest, surely, should not be able to look that smug. Not, at the very least, one as aged as Gerard. Then again – was the man even that old? He wasn’t elderly, he was just older than Frank. The younger man got the impression that Gerard looked young for his age, too. He clearly took care of himself, with his ‘strategically’ messy hairstyle, and almost perfectly unblemished skin.
“How old are you?” Frank found himself asking. He widened his eyes, clapping his hand over his mouth. Gerard looked taken aback, but not displeased. He smiled.
“I just turned fourty two,”
Frank was genuinely surprised at that. Gerard really did look young for his age. Frank nodded slowly, looking to the cross at the front of the room.
“Oh,” he said. He wasn’t bothered by the answer – he just wasn’t sure how to respond. He glanced back up at the Priest and smiled, “you look younger than that,” he told him. Gerard laughed again, and put a hand on Frank’s shoulder.
“Well, ah. Thank you,” he said, his voice distant. His eyebrows furrowed for a minute, before he looked at Frank. “The service is going to start soon. Can you help me put my robe on?” he asked. For some reason, the question made Frank blush, but he nodded. Gerard smiled in acknowledgement and led Frank back to the room he’d seen him dressing in earlier. On the wall, like a bejewelled ghost, hung a long white robe, with red and gold stripes down the front. Gerard rested his cane against the wall and hobbled over to it, clearly having trouble with the movement. Frank, however, wasn’t sure if he should help him or if that would be seen as patronising, so he just waited for further instructions. Luckily, Gerard didn’t need any help in doing that part, and pulled the cloak over his frame. He looked over at Frank and smiled.
“Can you button this up for me?” he asked. Now that Frank was looking, he could see white buttons nestled into the silk of the fabric, like pearls scattered in the snow. He nodded, approaching the older man and beginning to do the buttons up. As his hands began to close each hole, he began to get uncomfortably aware of Gerard’s presence near him. It was like he was emitting heat, and Frank’s body was – for whatever reason - eager to get closer. As it was, he took a gentle step forward, his hands beginning to work more slowly, even without him thinking about it. It was at that moment that he realised that Gerard smelled really good. Sort of like some kind of incense, but also something else – kind of like mint, but sweeter. Frank took a deep breath that left him with a heady feeling. He helped himself to another once he’d recovered. It was like a cheap drug with a shitty high – yet Frank was addicted all the same.
He finished the buttons, to his dismay, and stepped back. Gerard turned and smiled, his cheeks slightly flushed.
“Thank you, Frank. You’re welcome to go, if you’d like. But you’re welcome to stay for the service,” he said kindly. Although Frank was tempted to stay, he felt like he needed to leave. Something was going on with him, and he felt like the longer he stayed in the Church, the worse it would be. Frank shrugged.
“Nah, I’m good, thanks. But uh. I’ll see you next Sunday, okay?” he offered. Gerard gave a soft, kind smile. Already the sound of voices could be heard, of people waiting to be let into the church.
“Of course. Thank you,” Gerard said. He held his hand out for a handshake and, for whatever reason, the gesture threw Frank completely. Maybe he just hadn’t been expecting something so formal – but then, what was he expecting? Frank smiled and shook his hand, before darting towards the door as quickly as he could without seeming impolite. This Church was getting to him. Perhaps it was just the guilt for not going to one for so long, or maybe it was the fact he’d broken the window.
It was something like that, for sure. What else could it be?

Notes