RE: Lights in the North {Nova's drabble}
The weather was miserable. Summer had finally turned to fall, and the change of the seasons brought a good deal of rain. Then again, in San Francisco, that was hardly unusual. However, that didn’t make the weather any less miserable for Jon, and on days like this he really started to miss New York.
But he couldn’t have stayed, there was too much guilt and pain after Ned died and Robb had asked him to take a position in Stark’s legal department. He wanted to very badly, and that was the problem. He had already been working for the DA’s office for a year when his father died, and he couldn’t move to the private sector after that. It was obvious to him that his calling was to prosecute, to serve what he saw as the greater good.
So he took the job that was clear across the country; away from the Starks, the Lannisters, and the oppressive memory of Ned’s legacy and Catelyn’s disapproving stare. It was away from his family and friends too, and that was where the only real regret came in. San Francisco was lonely for Jon, even though he did make friends with some of the other ADAs in the office. He ended up getting a dog, some gigantic white mutt that followed him home after jogging one morning and never made a sound that Jon found himself getting particularly fond of.
There was a plus side, however. He had only been in the new city for a year and he was already moving up the chain, the DA had seen fit to give him his own legal assistant, to help with the legwork on his cases. This was his last interview after a week of them, though Jon didn’t see this one ending that well.
The kid claimed to be twenty-two, but Jon thought he was a good deal younger. It wasn’t his eyes; they were dark and filled with experience that made him look older than Jon. The dark-haired youth was thin and tall, and his hair actually curled in ringlets (which Jon could only assume was natural) that framed a surprisingly pretty face. He had his name listed only as ‘Satin’, and he wore dark jeans and a button-up shirt that had obviously seen better days. And to top it all off, a cursory background check had revealed that Satin had never been to college, much less graduated as a legal assistant.
But the kid was trying, and Jon didn’t have it in him to throw him out on the street. For the first time in his life he was seeing the people that were not part of the society he grew up in. Five years ago Satin would have been a one-dimensional person to Jon, just a hooker from Polk Street trying to pull some scam. And if he ever saw him again he wouldn’t have really seen him, Satin would have just blended into the streets like the other lost people used to.
It was his pride that impressed Jon the most; he held his chin high and never shied away from making eye contact. He stayed calm and his voice never wavered, even when it was clear that he didn’t know how to answer Jon’s questions. Snow couldn’t give him the job in the end, but he couldn’t just let him walk out either. Collecting strays was a passion of his, and something about Satin called to him.
And where would he go if Jon just let him walk away? Would the kid keep trying to get out of the life or would he just go back to Polk Street to pick up a habit, or worse, a pimp? Ned Stark’s bastard always had trouble with the concept of people surviving without his help or interference.
Jon didn’t miss the flash of distrust in the kid’s eyes when he invited him to dinner, and he shrugged off his decline of the invitation with a soft smile. “If you change your mind, I’ll be at the diner that’s two blocks south from here from five to say… Seven?”
Satin didn’t show up until seven-thirty. He approached Jon warily, like a dog that had been kicked too many times. He knew that he was being sized up, so the lawyer did his best to appear completely non-threatening.
“I thought you said you were only staying until seven.”
Jon shrugged, “Service is always slow here.” He wouldn’t say that he would have waited all night if he had to; the point was not to spook the kid. He also managed to resist the urge to order him something more substantial than the grilled cheese, and to keep his mouth shut while Satin ate. When he finished, Jon would do his best to coax some more information out of him.
“Satin, why did you apply for that job?”
“You’ve already asked me that.” His tone was calm and almost cold, and Jon knew he was being assessed once more.
“I know, but I’m not asking you as an interviewer now.”
“What are you asking me as, then?”
He would consider this for a few moments before answering with a shrug. “A concerned citizen, I guess.”
It was Satin’s turn to consider things before answering. “Why does anyone apply for a job? I need a job; I looked in the classifieds and saw that one. It looked like something I could do, so I applied.”
“I see.”
They were both quiet then; Jon sipping at his coffee while Satin traced the bottom of his own glass with one well-chewed fingernail.
“I can’t give you the legal assistant job,” his tone was entirely apologetic, “But I do want to help. Where are you living now?”
“Does it matter?”
“No, I suppose not. I live near Pacific Heights,” Jon ignored Satin’s eye roll (Pacific Heights was a neighborhood known for its affluence), “And I’ve been thinking of getting a… Live in assistant.” That was a lie, but if he talked his boss into giving him a raise instead of an assistant he could probably swing it. He knew how it sounded the second he said it, but he also knew that trying to explain himself would just make it sound worse.
Satin did not respond immediately, and instead chose to study Jon through narrowed eyes. He knew that the kid was trying to figure out what his angle was, but the dark-haired young lawyer didn’t really have an answer for him. He wasn’t even sure what he was trying to accomplish.
It took a few weeks, but eventually the kid settled on the futon in his spare room. Things were going well, Satin took care of the house and dog during the day, and Jon could usually count on him to have something to eat ready when he came home. The other man also took care of the other meaningless tasks that Jon hated, like grocery shopping and going to the dry cleaners. All in all, it meant he had more time to spend at the office, and that had been the point.
Eventually he fond out more about Satin, like that the kid was barely twenty instead of twenty-two, and that he hadn’t finished high school. He had run away from his parents’ house when he was sixteen, though he refused to talk about where that had been or why he had left. The only other things he refused to discuss were his real name (he had been Satin since leaving home, and he had told Jon he could guess where he had gotten it from, which made the older man blush), and any of the specifics about why he wanted to stop whoring.
And in return, Jon did his best to answer every question Satin asked him. He told him about growing up as Ned Stark’s bastard, and in his brother Robb’s shadow. They talked about law school, and why he had decided to move out to the West Coast when Ned died.
That evening, they had talked about getting Satin his GED, and Jon was relieved to notice that some of the distrust that the younger man had used to show when Jon tried to help him was leaving. It seemed he was accepting that Jon just wanted to help, and nothing else, or so Snow thought. The lawyer also that he was successfully hiding his attraction to the other man. It didn’t bother him that he was attracted to a man (especially one as pretty as Satin), he had known for a while that he preferred men. That just wasn’t what he wanted from the kid, sex for room and board. Satin had wanted out of that life, and in Jon’s mind having a relationship with him could only be that sort of relationship.
He had gone to bed early, he had to be in court in the morning. Jon had been at the point that was half way between asleep and awake when he heard his door creak open. Bleary with sleep, he rolled over to face the door, surprised to see Satin standing there naked. Doing his best to ignore that, Jon would attempt to focus his eyes on the younger man’s.
“Hey, did you need something?”
“No.” With that, the younger man was crawling into Jon’s bed, moving under the covers and pressing his lanky body to the lawyer’s. Satin pulled his arms around his body, and before Jon could think to protest they were kissing. It was only when he felt the younger man pulling at his pajama pants that he had the presence of mind to put a stop to it.
He pulled his hands down to Satin’s, grasping them firmly before pulling them away. “Satin, no.” Jon regretted his tone the moment he heard it, it was entirely condescending, and he sounded as if he were scolding the dog.
The younger man froze, and then pulled away completely and left the room quickly. Jon couldn’t read his expression, but he could take a guess at Satin’s feelings about the manner when he heard him storm out of the house a few minutes later.
Sighing when Ghost trotted into his room to see what all the fuss had been about, Jon would hold out a hand for the mutt to lick. “You still like me, don’t you?” Ghost’s only response would be to huff once before jumping up on Jon’s bed to sleep.
Jon didn’t know if Satin came back home during the day over the following few days, the next time he saw him was the evening three days after the incident. He was there when Jon got home from the office, sullenly poking at pasta in the kitchen. They greeted each other as if nothing had happened, Jon didn’t really want to talk about it and he certainly didn’t want to know where the boy had gone. He had a sneaking suspicion that particular piece of information would make his skin crawl.
They continued in that stasis for a few days, tiptoeing around one another and pretending there was nothing to say. Jon didn’t mind that either, he had grown up not talking about anything in a family that didn’t talk about anything, and he found the repression oddly comforting.
It was Satin who broke it, of course. The younger man came to sit on the couch with him while he was watching the eleven o’clock news. He was quiet and still for the top two stories, but when they moved on to sports Satin moved to straddle Jon in one fluid movement, grabbing his dark hair quite firmly before kissing him. The younger man was more insistent than he had been several nights ago, his kisses were passionate and rough, and he moved his hips in Jon’s lap in a purposeful way that had the grey-eyed older man grasping at the other’s hips.
He told himself that he wanted to pull away but couldn’t, Satin was pushing him quite firmly into the back of the couch and there was nowhere for him to pull to. It wasn’t until the younger man moved back slightly so he could shove his hands up Jon’s plain black shirt that he told himself it was time to get a handle on the situation. Trying to ignore the way that Satin’s fingers and jagged nails ran up his abdomen, Jon would move his hands to the black-haired young man’s shoulders, pushing him back enough so he could speak.
“Satin, stop. I don’t want to-hngh-“ The dark haired young man cut him off with a vicious pinch to one of Jon’s nipples that had him bucking his hips involuntarily.
“Yes you do, Snow.”
But he remained strong, and kept his arms on the other’s thin shoulders. “No, I mean, you don’t want to-“
“Yes I do.” Again Satin managed to cut Jon off, this time emphasizing his point with a well-practiced roll of his hips that had the older man painfully and achingly aware that they were both very aroused.
“Gods damn you Satin, listen to me.” His voice was hoarse enough for him to be embarrassed about it, but he couldn’t let that bother him. This was so important. “We can’t. We can’t. You’re trying to get out of… I pay you to help me, and you don’t want to do that again.” It was funny how he lost his ability to form competent sentences when he was hard.
He had been expecting a negative reaction, after all the last time he had rejected Satin the other man had left his house for days… But he hadn’t expected this. The normally calm man went from zero to furious in a few seconds, his dark eyes narrowing to slits as he pulled his hands out from under Jon’s shirt.
“You… Insensitive… Asshole!” Every word was punctuated with a slam of Satin’s fists to Jon’s shoulders, and Jon could do nothing but stare up at the younger man helplessly. “What, because I used to turn tricks I can’t want to fuck someone I like? Do you know how insulting that is? I’m not some helpless… Fucking… Boy you have to save. I… Am not… Fucking… Damaged.”
Satin finished with a final furious smack before standing, and stomping off to his room. Jon thought he was being spared, and he was still trying to compose himself when Satin stormed back in, something clutched in his right hand and dark eyes flashing dangerously.
“It’s about money? Fine- Here-“ Satin had been holding folded bills, and he angrily shoved them into Jon’s hand. “Money. Now we’re even. Now you can look at me like a person and not some kind of project.” His normally pale skin was flushed with anger, and his dark eyes were glassy with tears. “Now look at me.” It was with great effort that Jon brought his eyes to meet Satin’s, but once they made contact he did not advert them.
The first few months of their relationship did not go smoothly. They lived together, and that did place a strain on things. But in the end it did not break them, their personalities were simply too compatible. Jon wanted the acceptance and the intimacy; he wanted these things as desperately as Satin wanted the respect, and the opportunity to be viewed as an equal rather than someone to be pitied or scorned.
And they both wanted the love. It grew between them easily, despite the fact that the ease with which it came confused (and frightened) them both. But it fit, they fit, and neither man saw any sense in attempting to fight it once they had worked out the specifics of their relationship. Jon helped Satin find a different job as a receptionist, and soon they settled into a comfortable routine.
At first they often slept apart, it was a good three months before Satin started staying in Jon’s bed when they had finished, and another before he started to move his own things into Jon’s bedroom, and it became their bedroom.
“Oh Gods, Jon, harder-“ They were tangled in the bed sheets, Jon on top with his arms wrapped protectively around Satin, who was dragging his nails in familiar tracks down the lawyer’s back. He wanted to comply with Satin’s demands, but he could not, it was not in his nature. Even when he was passionate Jon was a tender lover who moved slowly and with purpose.
It had surprised him that Satin was his opposite, the younger man was always quite calm and collected, and he had not heard him so much as raise his voice in anger since that argument five months ago. But in bed he was demanding and loud, and knew how to make expert use of his teeth and nails, and how to pull and pinch with his fingers just so. Not that Jon was complaining, not only did it feel unspeakably good, but it left a litany of marks along his previously flawless skin that were exciting in their own right. He couldn’t help but remember how he had gotten each of the bruises, scratches, and bite marks every time he dressed. And he couldn’t help but wonder what his colleagues would think of him if they could see the state of his skin under his expensive suits.
“Harder, fuck me faster- Please-“ His response was to nuzzle lovingly into the younger man’s neck, and that was certainly not enough for Satin, who responded by sharply tugging on Jon’s dark curls, “Gods damn you Snow, are you even listening to me?” He would give a half-hearted squeeze of the younger man’s shoulders in response, barely digging his nails in, which had his lover huffing and rolling out form under him to turn on the light on the nightstand. Because Jon hadn’t finished, he whined a little when the other left him, reaching for him only to have his hands smacked away.
They were both breathing hard, and Satin sat with his arms crossed in front of his thin chest while Jon rested his head on his boyfriend’s knee. The other man’s lightly annoyed expression did not change, even when Jon gave him his best ‘puppy dog’ look.
“Jon, I love you. I love you and I love how you are with me, but you don’t know how to fuck.”
“Yes I do.” His response was automatic, and his tone was slightly hurt, “What do you call what we’ve been doing then?”
“Making love.”
He would consider this quietly for a few moments, nuzzling into Satin’s knee before responding. “Well that’s good, isn’t it? I mean, that’s the end goal when you love someone, to make love to them.”
Jon watched Satin roll his dark eyes before reaching out to pet his dark hair affectionately. “Yes, but not every time. It gets boring when it’s the same all of the time, doesn’t it? You can be rough with me, you know. Not only will it not break me, but I like it.”
Jon muttered to himself that it wasn’t the same every time, but shut up when his lover pulled on his hair. “But what if I hurt you?” His voice was low, and betrayed a little of his concern about the matter. He was stronger than his boyfriend, and the thought of actually hurting him was enough to send a chill down his spine.
“Jesus, Jon. Then I’ll tell you to stop. I promise you won’t though, not in a way I don’t like, anyway.”
He considered this quietly for a few moments before giving in. “Fine then, Mr. Sexpert, show me how to fuck.”
With a grin that was about a mile wide, Satin would use his grip on Jon’s hair to yank him upwards, forcing him to crawl upwards on the bed between his long legs. Taking his cock in one hand, the younger man would push his lover’s head downwards with the other, moaning happily when Jon eagerly swallowed him down. His lover only released his hair when he tried to move his hands downwards, so he could stroke himself off while using his mouth on Satin.
In a move that had the younger man grinning and Jon pouting around the cock in his mouth, Satin firmly took hold of Jon’s arms, and then his hands.
“Not a chance, lover.” He’d hold the lawyer’s hands firmly while Jon continued to suck obediently, bobbing his head easily up and down Satin’s firm length. After a few moments, he would move one of Jon’s hands to his balls, and as Jon stroked them he would again feel Satin tangle his fingers in his thick hair. He would allow the other to take control of the way he moved his head then, managing not to gag as his ringlet-haired lover pushed him further and further down.
Soon the pouty look in Jon’s storm-grey eyes was replaced by one of lust, and the lewd sounds of him slurping and whimpering around the other filled the bedroom. It wasn’t long before Satin’s low moans joined the litany of noises, and soon after that his boyfriend was telling him he was going to cum.
“Swallow it,” he cried out, biting his full bottom lip, “Swallow every fucking drop.”
Jon was only too happy to oblige. He’d barely had a moment to catch his breath before Satin was pulling on his hair again, wrapping his thin arms around Jon’s broad shoulders so that they could kiss. Their mouths clashed hungrily, bruising one another as their tongues danced, Jon groaning loudly with need when he tasted the lingering traces of his lover’s cum mix with his saliva. Satin always tasted as sweet as he smelled.
He tried to grind his hips against the younger man’s, but was again denied by a quick movement of one of his boyfriend’s legs. Satin pushed his knee against Jon’s chest, and his foot against the older man’s hips so that he could not move against him, or into him, the way that he wanted too. Jon could feel him smile at the little noises of frustration he made, followed by a low moan when one of his toes brushed delicately against Jon’s aching cock.
They continued to kiss until Jon was desperate, pulling on Satin’s bottom lip with his teeth to signify his need. But his lover continued to tease him, running his jagged nails lightly down Jon’s back and occasionally giving his cock a teasing stroke with his toes. Finally Jon could take no more, and he grabbed roughly at Satin’s curls, yanking his head back.
“That’s enough.” His grey eyes were dark and churning with his want, and the way that Satin bit his bottom lip and dug his nails into Jon’s back when he pulled on his hair hand him understanding exactly what his boyfriend meant about wanting to be fucked. “I want you. Now.”
He moved back to settle on his knees, grabbing his lover’s thin sides firmly so he could roll him onto his front. Pulling Satin’s hips upwards so the other man settled on his knees, Jon would smack his perky ass firmly once before positioning himself behind the younger man. His boyfriend yelped but Jon thought it was fair payback, he always let Satin cum when he wanted to.
There was enough lube left from earlier for him to push in, and he did so quickly, whimpering along with Satin’s moans at the rough treatment. He would tangle one of his hands in the other’s hair to pull him upwards, so his thin back rested along Jon’s strong chest. After wrapping his other arm around Satin’s chest to keep him in place, he would push their bodies forwards enough so he could grasp the headboard for support while he began to thrust in and out of his lover.
When Satin dug his nails into Jon’s arm, he rewarded him with a vicious pinch to the nipple his fingers rested against, smiling when he heard the younger man begin to whimper and beg for more. Leaning in to nip at Satin’s shoulder, Jon would then turn his head to murmur into Satin’s ear.
“Is this what you meant, darling?” He would give a particularly forceful thrust that had his lover gibbering nonsense before continuing, “Is this how you like to be fucked?”
“Oh Gods, Oh Gods Jon, yesss-“ He would interrupt Satin’s words with his own moaning as his lover began to clutch at his cock with his ass, rewarding him by again digging his nails into the younger man’s nipple. “More, don’t stop, please- Oh Gods Jon please-“
Once more, he was only too happy to fulfill his lover’s requests, and Jon continued to use him as roughly as he was able. When he knew he was getting close, Jon would shift so that he could move Satin’s arms to clutch the headboard. He would keep one arm wrapped around the other’s chest, but his other hand would reach down to take hold of Satin’s cock, which was hard and throbbing once more.
“Going to cum,“ He grunted into his lover’s ear, “But not you. Don’t you dare-“
Soon after that, Jon’s orgasm overtook him, and he bit Satin’s shoulder again to muffle his screaming as he filled his lover’s ass. Panting desperately, he would pull out, ignoring Satin’s gibbering pleas to be allowed to do the same. Jon raked his teeth down the younger man’s thin back, grabbing his hips firmly. Without so much as a word, he would part his full cheeks and move his head in to lick roughly at what lay between them.
The taste of his come had him moaning right along with Satin, and Jon would work to swallow every drop his tongue could reach before beginning to bugger the other man with it. He had his lover screaming for release before Jon moved one of his hands to again grasp Satin’s cock firmly. He had barely stroked him once before Jon felt his boyfriend’s hips buck hard and his hot cum filling his hand.
Wiping his hand on the sheets, Jon would tenderly kiss his way back up Satin’s thin back before taking the trembling man into his arms. They laid close together, legs entwined as they kissed slowly. He had been surprised to find a few tears staining his lover’s cheeks, and Jon wiped them away when they broke for air.
“Did I hurt you?” Jon smiled when Satin weakly smacked his back, and then nuzzled into his lover’s neck. “I love you, Satin.”
“I love you too.”
“Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been a week since my last confession.”
Jon said nothing; he didn’t have to because he recognized the voice. You weren’t supposed to remember, but he did. The man said he was nineteen, and he claimed to work as a whore in town. For three months, he had been coming to confess every Friday evening, when the church was emptiest and Jon held private confessions. At first the young priest had tried to help the young man, asked him to come in for counseling and tried to assign penance that would help him. After a month, it had become clear that wasn’t why Satin came.
He began to tell Jon a story about a young priest he was attracted to, a young priest with dark, curly hair and grey eyes. Satin spoke about coming to mass only to watch the priest, and how he fantasized, even when he was with a client, about what it would be like to make love to him. At first Jon had tried to stop Satin from speaking about it, but the young man was persistent and soon he could do nothing but sit and listen, and try to stop his body from responding.
“I continue to sell my body to make my living… But it’s easier now that I can think of him,” Satin’s voice was smooth and wicked, but with that faux varnish of innocence that could almost make you love him. “When they hit me, or they’re rough, I can just close my eyes and think of Father Snow, and how different he would be. He’s such a passionate man in mass, but I think he’d be very tender.” He paused, and Jon could almost hear the smile that played along the whore’s lips, “Do you think he’d be tender, Father?”
Jon said nothing, balling his fists on his robe and trying to ignore the way that sweat was running down his back even though it was late November and the church ran cold. “… I guess you’re not supposed to think about that sort of thing, are you? I wonder, though. I wonder if Father Snow thinks about me. That’s wicked, isn’t it? But I know he’s seen me. When he gave mass last Sunday I felt his eyes fall on me when he held up the bread and I could tell, there was this faint glimmer of recognition…”
His neck felt tight, and unthinking, Jon reached up to tug at the white collar, the piece of cloth that was meant to remind him he was no longer part of the secular world. Satin was a good six years younger than he, and the young man should not have been able to twist him this way. But he did, and even worse, he knew what he did to Jon and seemed to enjoy it too. God help him.
“I thought about going to him after the mass.” Satin was speaking again, and Jon could do nothing but listen. “After everyone else had gone while he put away the tools of his trade. He’d take me on the altar, as tenderly as good man can-“ The whore’s narration was broken by the sound of a lighter flicking, and soon the confessional was filled with the inexplicably comforting smell of cigarette smoke. This too was something Jon had begged him not to do, but had eventually given up resisting. At least this vice calmed his nerves a little. “Right in front of God, while Jesus watched us from that cross he hangs on up high.”
Then sound of Satin exhaling loudly, and then Jon would be able to see the cigarette smoke drift through the wooden lattice that divided the rooms of the confessional, curling towards him like Satin’s voice often did when he was alone. “We’d make love facing one another, and I’d watch his doubt slowly fade from those perfect grey eyes, and be replaced by the passion he has when he speaks about God’s love.”
The other man was never more explicit with him than that, but the images of what he described came as they always did. Jon could see them on the altar, see the way the heavy cloth that sat on it bunched up under the other’s back as they moved as one. He could almost feel what Satin’s skin would be like against his arms as they held one another, and the pain of the man’s nails scraping into his back. God help them both.
Satin’s thin, pale fingers would curl through the holes of the lattice, and Jon’s eyes would be drawn to the chipped and torn black polish on the nails. “And we’d both know that God didn’t mind because God loves sinners… And Father Snow is holy enough to know how to save us both.” There was the sound of something rustling, and Jon knew that the other man was putting out his cigarette. He didn’t know how the whore did it, but he’d never found a single butt or burn in the confessional.
This was usually where Satin asked for penance, and Jon stuttered as he attempted to assign rosaries and readings. But there was only silence this time, a full five minutes of it before Satin’s fingers disappeared and there was the sound of the heavy velvet curtain being drawn back. The priest thought that perhaps he had been spared, and he sat back in his seat almost panting as he tried to collect himself.
The young priest’s relief was broken with surprise and fear when the curtain on his side of the confessional drew open, and Satin stood before him. He felt his heart might hammer out of his chest as he got his first close-up look at the one who had been torturing him so elegantly for the past three months, and his lips parted uselessly as Satin drew the curtain closed behind him.
“You… You can’t be in here.” Desperate protests from a man who already knew what was going to happen.
“Shhh…” He was more beautiful than Jon had thought another man could be, a thin face framed by messy dark hair that curled loosely to his shoulders. Satin’s blue eyes were cold and piercing, but they filled with a sort of softness when they traced over Jon’s body. The whore’s lips were as thick as his own, and Jon couldn’t stop his eyes from being drawn to them when the young man spoke.
“I’ve sinned so terribly Father, the only way for you to say me is to lay your hands upon me,” with that he was straddling the priest, and Jon would later be ashamed to admit he was shaking. “So then, see if you can drive my demons out.”
There was no time to respond, no opportunity to resist. Satin pressed his lips to Jon’s and the holy man was lost. The calm that followed in his heart reminded him of when he prayed alone in the gardens, and before long he was kissing back the best he was able. The priest’s lips would be gentle and unsure, and he would be all too willing to let the whore guide him. He was able to do little more than whimper desperately when Satin’s hips moved down into his, and Jon’s hands flew not to push the young man away, but to tug on his pants and beg for more.
Satin kept the kissing slow, even though Jon attempted to rush it with his need, trying to take more and more. Eventually, the priest would be able to move his lips the way that the other man wanted him to, and only then would he be rewarded with the feeling of Satin’s hot tongue sliding into his desperate mouth. Their tongues danced, twisting and stroking until Jon thought he would not be able to stand it anymore. Devotion and lust outweighed the doubt in his storm-grey eyes when Satin slid away from him, hands reaching for the man but not attempting to stop his movements.
“And now, I eat of the body.” He had Jon’s robes up and slacks down around his knees with a few quick and obviously practiced movements, and the priest shuddered with anticipation when the other took his hard length in his soft hands. The man’s mouth was smooth and soft, and he had some insight into where Satin had gotten his name before he was able to think nothing at all.
Instinct guided his hands to Satin’s hair, but he was too shy to pull roughly… Like he wanted to. The young man was teasing him again, but the torture was so sweet Jon would have borne it for an eternity. It seemed that would not be his fate, however, because before he could release in the way that his body was begging him to Satin’s warm mouth was gone, and replaced by the cool air of the church.
The priest moaned as loudly as he dared, eyes searching helplessly for the whore’s. No explanation was given, but there was again the sound of plastic crinkling and then the feel of something being rolled down the length of his cock. It’s a condom, the priest’s mind told him, thoughts barely able to make their way through the cloud of lust that occupied him. Jon knew what was coming then, and he almost hated the way he wished for it instead of resisting it.
Greedily, he watched the young man pull down his own pants to the knees, and Jon would have to bite the back of his hand to keep from crying out when Satin settled in his lap and pushed his body back on to Jon’s. It was good, better than he thought it would be, and his arms wrapped tightly around the other’s chest when he laid his back along Jon’s body.
The sharp tug Satin gave his hair only excited him more, and soon their lips pressed together again as the whore began to move his hips, rising and falling ever so slightly along Jon’s length. His mouth greedily swallowed every sound of pleasure the priest made, and his other hand reached for one of the holy man’s, guiding it down to his own stiff cock.
What followed was the kind of ecstasy Jon had thought would only be possible in heaven. He didn’t know how long they were lost in one another, and the priest was only vaguely aware of the feeling of Satin’s cum spilling in his hand soon after his own orgasm. They held each other tightly for a while after that, Jon’s arms tight around Satin’s chest, and Satin’s wrapped more languidly around Jon’s neck as they continued to kiss softly.
Every inch the younger man moved away from him after that was torture, because it allowed his shame and doubt to creep back in, and the priest would panic slightly as he tried to think of the best way to clear a confessional of the smell of cigarette smoke and sex.
Jon’s mind cleared again as Satin kissed him one last time after pulling his pants up. “Thank-you, Father Snow.” His voice was soft, teasing, and almost shy, and the priest knew it would haunt him until the day he died. The young man would stop after he parted the curtain again, smiling back at the man who sat still panting and trying to compose himself. “I’ll see you Sunday, at mass.”
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