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sacrificial lamb

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Latching on his lips to the salt-soaked skin, his whines were silent in his ears even in the open walls of the church. The heat of his body seared under his touch, but Barok would be lying if he denied that he wasn’t overcome with the need for him , though his hands gripped on to him like his life depended on it. The push and pull of his body rocked the altar and its squeaks echoed, though none of it he minded.

“F-father,” Ryuunosuke whimpered, eliciting a groan from Barok as he continued to suck and lick his neck as he pulled up the cassock and heard the man sigh when he ran his fingers on his sides. Oh, how he longed for this moment, his broken vows hanging loosely and being torn to shreds the more he indulged, the more he took. What had this altar boy done to him, he wondered? What had he done to completely break Barok that he himself plucked the fruit that no snake had tempted?

“Keep quiet,” He ordered him, in the gentlest tone he could muster. It was the best he could do for him, even if Ryuunosuke could not keep down the way he thrashed under him. The touches reverberated on his skin, though his palms only grazed over the cassock that still hid him.

He was beautiful, that was all Barok could think when he would lay his eyes on the man that walked in the middle of the aisle every mass. He saw how he looked at him, he saw how those eyes stared for too long and how the light touches of their fingers felt like a thousand needles. It was almost purposeful, though, that he never wavered around him even though he wouldn’t dare talk with him, as if it would break the last bit of thread holding together what was left of Barok’s composure.

He prayed, as much as he could, to get him out of his head. He knew he was treading in dangerous waters, to think of one of the servers in such a way, to take him and to pull him towards his descent to hell. 

He knew that the devil had him in his hold when one too many nights he found himself with his own seed spilling all over his hand with the thought of the man in mind.

“Please, please,” Ryuunosuke begged, his own hands finding their way to his face to pull him down for another kiss, a kiss that Barok had dreamt and agonized over. He kissed him as if he couldn’t take any more of Ryuunosuke, eating his words and sounds and consuming him as if it would be his last.

It should be his last, though he didn’t know if any of that even mattered.

Barok wondered if he still had a place to go after he dies.

“Do you know what this means for us?” Barok demands, his anger lost on him (he blames himself, because he should have never entertained this, he should have never taken the opportunity), taking hold of Ryuunosuke and his legs hooked on his back, pulling him close. His own trousers felt so strained but he couldn’t focus on anything else, only the beautiful, horrible distortion of his face into pleasure.

“Yes, Father Barok, I’m sorry,” Ryuunosuke’s fingers find their way to his hair, holding on to him while his eyes tear up in the shamelessness of their act. He strokes him again and again, until he bit into his hand to muffle the moans that escaped from his throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t sorry, that much was evident. If he truly were, he would have stopped. He would have stepped away from him and he would have never tried to talk to him ever again.

“Father, it burdens me.”

The beads of his rosary shook in his hands, though his eyes never wavered.

“What could it possibly be, Ryuunosuke?”

The church they were in was abandoned, save for the two of them, as everyone had left and Barok was the only one to tend the church, the flickering lights of the chandeliers bouncing off the stained glass windows. Ryuunosuke, one of the servers, had been sitting on the benches for too long, his furrowed brows clearly saying how much something had been troubling him.

"Fear not, my dear child," Barok gasped through his lips, a defiled messenger of God stuck with the lies he told himself. "For He forgives you."

“I should have moved when I could,” He started babbling, “And I knew what this would entail, but I couldn’t stay away from you. 

“You know, Father, you know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

Of course I did, Barok thought to himself, How could I not, when you have plagued me day and night?

It was all a blur, to get to this point, to find himself inside Ryuunosuke and grinding into him as his lust completely overcame him, pushing and pushing until they fall apart and the maddening screeches of the altar filled the empty place. 

His cries were blissful, the broken catharsis in their pleasure, of this love , completely severing the ties he had set himself with his God. Ryuunosuke Naruhodou is the lamb he has failed to let go, now one he had tainted with his greed and selfishness.

And one must wonder why he did not feel regret, even when the thresholds of his guilt ate him alive.

"Father," the title gave him a rush that should never be, "Why does it feel heavy? To love you is freeing, but it brings me nothing but pain."

Please, do not speak of love so easily this way.

“And I shall carry with me the burdens of our sins.”

How much was he willing to sacrifice if it meant having him?