Latter Day Sinner

If Gerard had noticed anything weird about Frank’s behaviour that day, he certainly didn’t mention it the following Sunday. This time, Frank arrived on time, and was surprised to find that the Church was locked.
He was amused at the fact that he’d beaten the Priest to Church. It seemed almost ironic, in a way.
Frank, from where he was standing, could see the light emitting from the small home nestled on the Church grounds, but he knew better than to invite himself in. He’d come to the conclusion that he didn’t have some strange crush on Gerard, and that all of his feelings were just guilt for breaking the window, and for not having been to Church in years. The more he considered it, the more ridiculous the previous notion seemed. Gerard was slightly overweight with messy hair and wrinkles. There was nothing at all appealing about him, save for his personality.
As he considered the thought, something nagged at Frank’s brain, but he shrugged it off. He was being ridiculous.
Still, he figured he should keep his distance. Just in case.
Gerard walked up to the Church a few minutes later. He was already dressed in his Priest clothes, save his collar, and smiled when he saw Frank. He raised a hand to wave, but as he did, hit a dip in the grass with his cane. Frank watched, as if in slow motion, as the man’s body shook with unsteadiness, before he fell to the floor.
Luckily, Frank’s reflexes kicked in fairly quickly, and he made his way over, his feet moving more quickly than he thought they would in this situation. Within seconds he was crouched next to the man, hands on his arms.
“Are you okay, Father?” he asked. Gerard looked shaken, but unharmed. His weak, insincere smile and nod confirmed this, and Frank felt a wave of relief run over him.
“Yes, I’m good. Thank you,” he said, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Frank found it oddly endearing, a gentle smile quirking up the side of his mouth.
“The ground is really uneven here,” Frank said, almost in condolence. Gerard huffed and grabbed his cane from where it fell beside him, the knuckles in his hand white against his skin. He looked genuinely angered, and it was disconcerting to Frank, in comparison to his normally cool demeanour.
“It’s this…this thing,” Gerard growled. Frank rose to his feet and offered Gerard a hand which, after a moment, he accepted. Frank frowned as he watched the other man rise to his feet, his entire frame seeming to droop with his lowered mood, like it was a physical weight dragging down. Frank titled his head.
“Can I ask…why you-“
“No. Let’s go,” Gerard snapped, walking away from him. Frank was struck by his uncharacteristic grouchiness. Although he could see why he was reacting this way, it was a total perspective shifter. He’d seen the man as completely mild and pure. The idea that he wasn’t, for whatever reason, was very intriguing to Frank.

He followed behind the other man after a moment, and was strangely offended to see him doing the job he’d given to Frank only the week before. He was walking with heavy reliance on the cane, cradling the papers in one hand and distributing them with the other. It seemed like an awkward balancing act, and Frank couldn’t help but stare for a moment, waiting with the upmost suspense for the moment that Gerard would either drop the papers, or go sprawling again.
That was, of course, until he remembered that he was meant to be doing what Gerard was.
“Father!” he called, jogging up the aisle to him, “Let me.”
Gerard looked up at him with a darkened, annoyed expression.
“Oh. So you’re actually going to do your job?” he asked sharply. Frank physically recoiled from his tone and, for a moment, Gerard could be seen to soften.
“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t-
“I don’t need your help. I can do this on my own,” he said tersely, pushing past him. Unfortunately for him, the side of his cane hit the pew and he stumbled, dropping some of the papers. He bit down hard on his lip, presumably to refrain from cursing. Frank couldn’t blame him.
“Father-“ Frank said. He picked up the papers and took the others from Gerard’s hand. He smiled softly. “Maybe you don’t need my help. But I want to help,” he said gently, touching the man’s arm. Gerard dropped his eyes, looking very ashamed of himself. Gerard covered Frank’s hand with his own, looking down at Frank with a soft expression.
“Thank you, Frank. And I’m sorry, for -
“No. Father, really. I get it,” he smiled gently. He didn’t move his hand, but wouldn’t let himself admit that it was because he was enjoying the warmth of the other man’s hand on his own. Gerard’s skin was soft and delicate-feeling on his own, like he’d never done a day’s work in his life. It was the wrinkles that adorned his face, like intricate embroidery, and the faraway look in his eyes that gave him away. Gerard didn’t move his hand either, and Frank didn’t stop to wonder why.
“When you’re done with this, come see me. I want to show you something,” he said gently. Perhaps against his better judgement, Gerard gave Frank’s hand a firm squeeze, before letting go and walking back up the aisle. Frank was turned away, but the gentle, steady click – and its sudden absence – told Frank that he got to his room without any further accidents.

When Frank was done, he approached the room, knocking lightly on the wooden door, with a large cross carved in the middle.
“Father?”
“Come in, Frank. It’s open,” came the sagely voice from inside. Frank pushed the door open, and was entirely embarrassed by the grin that spread across his face when he saw Gerard. He felt a little better when he saw it mirrored on Gerard’s. Behind the elation though, Frank could see the faint glimmer of nerves, like a man who’d decided to walk in public naked.
The thought made Frank blush, and he cleared his throat before he could conjure any mental image.
“You told me to-
“Yes. Frank. Sit down,” he said gently – though his voice shook with nerves. Frank raised an eyebrow and sat down across from him, crossing his ankles as he looked at the other man.
Gerard rubbed his hands along his thighs, and Frank could see the faint, damp stain where his sweat had settled into the fabric. Whatever he was about to say, Gerard was terrified of it. Frank wanted to comfort him, but he was tied to the chair by his own fear.
“I…before I was at this Church, I was a military chaplain. My younger brother and I did it together, and it was actually…more fun than you’d think. The soldiers were good men, and they treated us well. They were very…protective of us, and we were of them, too. Between the two of us, I think me and Mikey – uh, my brother – spent hours praying for each of them and their families every night,” he glanced up at Frank, who waved him to continue. Gerard smiled, but it was shaking, like it might wilt any moment.
“What my brother lacked in skill and experience, he made up for in passion. And ah, he…he ended up falling for one of the soldiers.” Again, he glanced up, before continuing.
“The soldier fell for him right back. They had a secret romance for about a year. I was the only one who knew about it, and I prayed for them every night. I prayed that they’d be happy, that the soldier wouldn’t break my brother’s heart, and that God would forgive him for straying from his path. It was a time of moral turmoil, but…also love. Mostly love, really. And in time, I actually grew to accept it. On the last night we were together, I told my brother that I would marry him and his soldier. I’d never seen him so happy.” There was a soft light in Gerard’s eyes, like a nostalgic projector streaming golden light onto the marble floor of the Church. Frank didn’t realise when he’d leaned forward, but he didn’t think he could move away. His heart had squeezed at the part about God’s forgiveness, but he refused to allow himself to think too much upon it. Gerard cleared his throat before continuing, and it was only then that Frank saw the tears in his eyes.
“There was an attack on our base. It was morally disgusting, on their part. They weren’t meant to come so close…” he shook his head, breathing deeply to stop the tears from sliding down his face. Frank’s heart was hammering in his chest, like it was trying to break free, so as to comfort the other man. When Gerard spoke again, his voice was nearly inaudible.
“M-My brother and the soldier were together. They say the same bullet killed them both and…I don’t know. That’s kind of…” he waved a hand dismissively. Frank’s hand had somehow found his mouth, and it shook over his lips, Gerard’s form lost in the haze of the tears clouding Frank’s vision. Gerard cleared his throat again.
“I was an idiot. I saw him go down, and the only thing I could think of was getting to my baby brother. I had to hold him one more time, to tell him I loved him. But I never got to because…because…” he wasn’t trying to hide his tears anymore, his whole body trembling as he fought the urge to fall into hysterics. He swiped at his eyes, but it was useless.
“B-because they s-set off a bomb a few feet away from me. A-a-and it-“ he licked his bottom lip, his breath coming in short pants. He shook his head, signalling that he couldn’t speak anymore. Instead, he reached down and pulled up his trousers, revealing a long, tube of metal and wire, attached to a neat stump that ended just below his thigh. The leg didn’t look expert, but it wasn’t exactly cheap either. Frank realised with a start that Gerard had probably taken the best he could afford. Gerard’s next words confirmed this.
“I couldn’t afford anything better, s-so it doesn’t…” he moved his leg, and Frank saw the unnatural movement, like it wasn’t quite sure where to put itself. Frank let out a short sob, his body trembling.
“G-Gerard. Gerard, I’m so sorry,” he whispered. Without thinking, Frank stood up and enveloped the older man in a tight hug, his face pressing into his shoulder. Gerard stiffened for a moment, but slowly melted into the younger man’s arms, letting himself be comforted by him. He hugged him close, his cheek pressing against his heart. He felt the erratic pound of the boy’s chest, matching his own. His hands tightened, pulling him closer. Frank did the same, a shiver running up his body. He felt a fire under his skin, and holding Gerard closer both extinguished it and made it so, so much worse.
“Gerard,” he breathed, his voice strained. Gerard pulled back and gave him a look that was entirely needy, his whole face softened from crying. Frank put his hand to the Priest’s face, sucking in a breath when he leaned into it. He could feel the tears tickling his palm, and swiped his thumb across his skin to wipe them away. Gerard smiled despite himself, but it was a shadow of his usual grin. Gerard sniffed, pursing his lips. He was looking at Frank like he held all the answers in the world. Frank wished, more than anything, that he could tell Gerard where his brother was now, and whether or no he was still with his soldier. He wished he could tell him that right now his heart was pounding in his chest, and that Gerard’s face had a whimsical beauty, despite its age, and that even softened by tears, Frank still thought he was-
He took a mental break, shying inches from admitting it to himself. Not here. Not now.
The sound of an alarm saved him. It was sharp and tinny, and came from a small electric clock on Gerard’s desk. The Priest cleared his throat, swiping at his eyes as he turned it off. Frank forced himself to step back, but it was almost as if his legs rejected the movement.
“You can leave, Frank. Thank you,” Gerard said softly, reaching out and taking the boy’s hand in his own. That one gesture made the decision for him, and Frank found himself shaking his head.
“No. No, Father. I…I want to stay,” he said softly. He waited a moment, before allowing his eyes to flick up to Gerard’s. His heart squeezed at the soft, adoring smile the other man was giving him.
“I’d like you to stay with me,” he breathed.
Neither of them commented on the phrasing. Neither of them cared to.

During the service, Frank sat in the back pew, where nobody would notice him. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed to be there, it was more that he wanted to be able to focus without the fear that someone was going to approach him.
And, okay, maybe he was a little bit embarrassed.

Gerard, presumably, took a few moments to calm himself before he walked out, smiling softly at the crowd. He looked so different than he had only moments before. Gone were any traces of softness or weakness – he looked powerful. It was almost terrifying, the power that seemed to ebb from his every pore. Frank had never seen him like this and, admittedly, it was…kind of hot.
Frank shook the thought away, reminding himself firmly of who he was thinking about, and where he was.
As the man spoke, his voice shook with the forcefulness of his words, as psalms like symphonies rolled from his tongue, like he’d said them a thousand times, like they were tattooed onto his ribs.
And, God, maybe they were. All Frank knew was that, in the hour or so in which he watched the Priest speak, he’d never heard of anyone so sure of themselves. Gerard didn’t just believe in his faith – he was his faith. Every inch of him was laced with intricate divinity that, for a moment, he borrowed, to pour over his congregation.
Looking around, Frank saw that nobody else seemed to be surprised by Gerard’s sincerity, but there was a general, psychic agreement of peace and belief.
And it was then; in that place of truth and love, and ultimate happiness that Frank finally let that truth wash over him.
Gerard was beautiful. Not like the men in the magazines, or the girls he sometimes fell in love with on long train journeys. He wasn’t sexy, or sensual. If he hit on Frank in a bar, the younger man would scoff and curse him.
But that was the thing. Gerard wouldn’t do that. Gerard was beautiful in the way that flowers are beautiful when they’re in full bloom, or the sky when it hits morning and you realise you’ve been up all night. Gerard was beautiful in the way that acoustic guitars are beautiful when they echo on the tiled walls of subway stations. He was the sun that shone through the stained glass window that shone patterns of light onto his face even though it was broken. And without realising it, Frank had created the best metaphor for the man he could ever imagine.
The moment hit him harder than any religious experience he could have described. But straight after that truth, came another.
Frank could never, ever tell him.

Before he knew it, the service was ending, and the people of his town were filing past him. He could see his own parents approaching and made a soft noise of despair.
He let out a breath and promptly ducked behind the pew, his legs curled up to his chest. He heard the conversations of the people around them, and was only vaguely surprised that they weren’t in awe of Gerard.
Of course, that probably had more to do with the fact that they’d been seeing him every week for the last few months.
Frank heard the footsteps die away, but kept his head down, just in case.
He only looked up when he saw black shoes in front of him.
“Well, I mean. Normally people enjoy the service from the pews. How was it down here?” came Gerard’s amused voice. Frank looked up, and immediately blushed because – oh. He was definitely at eye-level with Gerard’s crotch.
Not only that, but Gerard had almost definitely noticed the blush.
And while all these thoughts were going through Frank’s head, he was still on his knees.
“I…oh,” he breathed, looking up at Gerard’s face. The Priest looked confused, and slightly uncomfortable.
Well, fuckin’ great.
Frank grasped the pew and dragged himself to his feet, swallowing hard, rubbing the back of his neck. Gerard’s hands were clasped behind his back, mostly so the younger boy couldn’t tell he was sweating.
This kid was going to send him to Hell. Gerard just knew it.
“That was a good service, Father,” Frank said softly. Gerard’s smile in response was tight-lipped, but genuine.
“Thank you, Frank. I’m…I’m really glad you stayed,” he said, his voice softening. Frank gave a gentle, one-armed shrug.
“I am, too. I mean. I can’t say I learned a whole lot. But it was nice,” he said. Gerard snorted, rolling his eyes.
“I’m…not even going to comment,” he laughed, “c’mon. Help me outta this robe,”
He turned and walked back up the aisle. It was only then that Frank processed that Gerard didn’t have his cane with him. He didn’t mention it, though, until they were back in the vestry, and Gerard had his back to him.
“Um, Father?” Frank asked softly, hands working at the buttons. Gerard made a soft noise of recognition, prompting him to continue.
“Don’t you need to use your cane all the time?”
“No, not all the time. I don’t like to use it when I’m performing a service. I like to think that-“ he broke off, shaking his head.
“What?” Frank asked, a smile pulling at his lips.
“Nothing. It’s-“
“Please?”
“I just…I like to think that God will help me stand during those times. And I really believe that he does. I don’t feel weak, or vulnerable. I feel-“
“Powerful,” Frank breathed, undoing the final button. Gerard turned around and smiled softly.
“Yeah. That’s it,” he murmured.
The two men stood for a moment, staring at each other with wide, curious eyes, like they weren’t sure how to approach each other.
“Why did you…tell me what you told me?” Frank finally asked. Gerard took the robe from the floor and hung it up, sighing softly. He laughed, shaking his head.
“I guess…I guess I did it because I wanted to,” he admitted, “is that okay?”
Frank smiled, nodding
“It’s okay. I’m glad you told me. I’m glad you…trust me enough to tell me.” He was very aware of how soft and soppy his voice sounded, but there wasn’t too much to do about that.
The look on Gerard’s face was positively enamoured.
“You’re a good person, Frank. I’m…enjoying our time together,” Gerard admitted.
That would have been a good time (if there were ever a good time) for Frank to just tell Gerard that he was…ridiculously infatuated with him. The whole moment was so warm and comfortable. It would have been perfect.
He didn’t, though. He just took a little step back – feeling the atmosphere shatter around him as he did – and smiled.
“Thanks, Father. I’m glad I can help you out,”
It was a cop-out, and they both knew it. Gerard let out a short, frustrated breath. But ultimately, he supposed he was grateful.
“You should go,” he said, not unkindly. Frank nodded.
“I should go.”

Notes