Damian
I woke up and felt him wrapped around me still, gently snoring.
God if he knew how suggestive this was. But he didnt, and Im thankful for that.
I should stop this, be I get hurt and he ends up hating himself cause he thinks having a hard on is a hell worthy sin.
I ran my finger across his lips, feeling how soft they were. I wanted to bite those lips. Or... well... use them for something else.
God Im sick, he's definitely too good for me.
I unwrapped myself from him, and saw his eyes flutter. Brown like dirt. Boring. But they looked pretty on him. All of him was so plain, from his hair to his clothes, but he is so beautiful that it balances out.
I really need to stop.
"What time is it?" He asked, still half asleep.
I glanced at the clock, "9:00 am."
He rolled over and out of bed, stripping as he always did.
"Absolutely no shame." I chuckled as he stripped of his pants and boxers.
"No need to be shameful." He said as he did on the first day.
I couldn't help glancing at him, taking him in, watching him dress. How could God make him this fucking gorgeous and then get pissy when I want to fuck him.
He glanced back at me, "C'mon mate, get dressed."
I lazily undressed, albeit with some covering up behind the bed. Back on was the dumb alb thing. Wizard robe more like. I looked like Leia with this stupid thing.
"Ok so, today we have normal church, then after we need to tend the garden together, its our week."
"Huh? What do you mean 'our week'?"
"Its our big chore for the week, then next its Ash and Sampson's"
"Ugh, kill me now."
That meant we had to go pick a bunch of fruit and vegetables in this heat, and I dreaded it with all of my soul. At least I could get a good nap in during church to have some energy.
We went on to the sermon, Father Noah spewing something about lying, and I fell asleep about 15 minutes in, to Thomas's dismay.
He woke me up with the old ice bucket of water and we went on with the day. At least now though, he was speaking with me.
"Whats it like in America?" He asked as we cleaned the pews.
"Um, well it depends on where you are. Like New York City is really fun, as long as you stay away from the bad areas, and LA is really superficial and totally overrated. I spent most of my time in north Carolina though. Really boring."
He nodded along, "What about the mid-west?"
"The midwest is a collective fever dream, it doesnt actually exist. It was made up for the Wizard of Oz."
He blinked surprised. "Oh."
I laughed, "Just kidding, its really hot, filled with a bunch of fields and cows."
We small talked for a while, talking about what the Wizard of Oz is because the guy's never seen a movie.
I filled my sponge with soap and scrubbed the wooden seats that seemed to be purposefully uncomfortable.
"You know, we have a lot in common." He said out of no where.
"Oh?"
"Well, we are both orphans, we both never met our parents, never had the same family for longer than 5 years."
I nodded, "Well I knew my mom for about 4 days, then a car accident took both of em."
"Are you ever sad about it?"
"Its like missing something you never had, you dont really know what its like, so you cant miss it." I told him.
"I understand that. My mum was a prostitute, they tell me, and died having me. My dad might be somewhere out there, but he has no idea I exist." He said.
"But yeah, your right, but we arent similar at all, are we?"
"No. No we arent."
I watched him scrub the stained glass, making his skin change colors with the light.
"So you've lived here your entire life?"
"Yeah, probably stay here my whole life too. Become a priest."
I stood and sat on the pew next to where he was cleaning. "You ever leave? Go to town or something."
"Sometimes, usually for volunteering at the kitchens."
It pained my heart, he's so fucking perfect. And Im over here just tainting the air he was in.
"So can I leave?"
"Of course, be back for chores, meals, and church though."
I smirked. "Well can we hurry to the gardens? I would like to go stroll the town."
"Gladly."
We made it to the greenhouse, which was filled with all sorts of plants I know nothing about. He loved it here for some reason, almost as he loved praying. Any moment he wasnt confessing or eating, he was here.
"We have to weed the flowers, and pull of some cuttings to replant." He told me.
I nodded, and walked over to the bushes of bright flora. I started to just yank the weeds, but they kept breaking off and not coming out of the ground.
"You have to grab it at the base," he told me, crouching down and grabbing my hand, leading me to the roots. "Grip the bottom and pull it out."
He caressed my palm as he spoke, pressing my knuckles with his ever frosty hands. I pulled the weed out, the roots following.
"Th-thanks." I told him, cursing myself for getting flustered over him touching my hand. I smirked and leaned into him, making him lose balence and fall into me landing on my lap.
"Hey!" He yelled as he regained his stance. We both laughed, falling over again into each other. I glanced down at him, head laying on my thighs, his cheeks reddened from laughing and the heat. Sweat dripping down his neck to his opened collar. Lips parted in a pant.
'Dont you dare get hard right now Damian.' I told myself. 'Pull it together'
He pulled himself up and continued picking the weeds, while I watched him. His hands were experienced, picking them quickly and putting them in a neat pile.
His hands touched one and he yelped out. "Ow ow ow!" He shook his hand.
"What?" I asked him concerned, grabbing his hand. His finger was bleed slightly, and a thorn was buried into his skin.
"Ugh I cant pull it out!" A tear fell from his eye.
I glanced up at him and pressed his finger to my lips. Gently sucking it until I felt the thorn between my teeth, his blood tasting like old pennies in my mouth.
His cheeks turned red and he stared at the ground, pulling his hand back.
I spat out the thorn and placed a hand on his thigh to comfort him. He pulled away, squirming under me like a bug. I pulled back my hand.
"I-I'm so sorry." He said. It seemed he was no longer crying over his cut on his hand. He clutched his knees to his chest and rocked, whispering something under his breath that sounded vaguely like a plea. A prayer.
I sat back on my palms, relishing in the heat of the greenhouse, taking a deep breath before crossing the invisible line again, pressing my palm against his thigh, a gesture to calm him only, nothing else.
He let out something between a whimper and a squeal, surprised not by me doing it, but by the act itself feeling right. Like this was what I should have done since the beginning.
"Is this ok?" I asked him, feeling the gentle definition of the muscle, no doubt from crouching so often to tend to plants.
He nodded once through the tears. I rubbed up and down to calm him down but his fit got worse.
"Why are you crying so much?" I would have teased him for being childish and crying over a thorn.
He just shook his head and wiped away the tears that continued to flow, "I-I'm cursed Damian, Im cursed."
I scoffed, "What do you mean cursed? You are so far from cursed."
"I am, Dame, I am."
Dame? I guess never heard that one before.
I nearly laughed. Tom? Cursed? What warranted him any curses?
I rolled my eyes, "How are you cursed?"
He huffed and wiped away his tears, putting on his false bravado again. "I cant stop it from happening, every time you touch me, or look ay me.... Im cursed because I was born from sin and now my body will fall victim to it."
I glanced down, before realising why he cried so hard... because well... he was. Hard I mean.
I didnt know what to do, because my entire being told me to take him here in this garden.
"It happens, Thomas. Youre a dude." I tried to console him.
"But it's not right!"
"Its the most natural thing that could possibly happen to you Thomas. Just deal with it." I told him.
"Its your fault! Youve done something to me and you need to fix it!" He yelled loud enough to make the birds in the greenhouse fly away.
"Other than being un-understandably sexy I didnt do anything to you Thomas. The only thing I can do to fix that is fuck you against a wall, which Im guessing isnt the best plan of action."
He glared and pushed my hand away disgusted. I rolled my eyes and stood up.
"How dare you talk like that..." he shook his head, "Disgusting." He spat with the same venom he had on the first day I came.
"I am only stating the god-honest truth Thomas. Im not going to bullshit you through your hissy fit. Its not my fault you got hard, its not anyones fault. Its you goddamn reproductive system!" I yelled back, making him stand up and push me back.
I fell to the ground underneath him, and he shoved me the rest of the way down until I was pinned underneath him by my wrists.
"Get off! You ass!" I screamed at him.
No longer was he a crying kid on the floor, his eyes spilled with anger and frustration. He gripped my wrists so hard I'm sure they will bruise.
"Stop talking like that!"
I pushed against his wrist and pulled myself from him, and brought my self back to a stance.
"What do you want from me Tom!? I cant fix this no more that I can stop the sun from rising.... Youre attracted to me, oh fucking well, go take a cold shower and try not to slip your dick into my ass and you'll be fine."
He stood up and walked towards me, so I tensed ready for him to tackle me again. He didnt though, instead he softened his glare, and touched my cheek. I flinched away but his touch was unyielding. I grasped the pole behind me for balance when he pressed himself upon me.
He was flush against me, every curve of his body meeting every crevice in mine.
I let out shallow breaths, begging myself not to touch him. It would just end up worse for both of us and I couldnt do that.
"See..." He pulled back from me, and glanced down, "you have the same problem."
I looked down to see the slight tent in my pants. Great, now catholic boy thinks Im a sinner too, even more than he already did.
"Yeah? And?"
"You know what to do!" He pressed, acting like he made sense.
"You.... want me... to fix your problem. I though I already explained I would need to have sex with you to do that."
"Thats not true, theres other things. Im not an idiot."
"Tom Im not gonna give you a blowy and call it a day, you're a virgin for Christs sake, youll regret it and hate yourself. Seriously man it will go away after a while."
"Yeah until the next time Im in the same room as you... this has never happened to me before Dame, it's just not me."
"Thomas thats beacause the only people you hang out with are women wearing tents, a 65 yearold preist, and pre-pubescent boys. Thank God you dont get a boner around here."
"Watch your speech. And your right. Ive never felt like this before."
"Im glad about that." I remarked sarcastically.
I turned and crouched back to the plants, "C'mon we gotta finish this or Mother Katherine will skin me for the soup." I told him.
He huffed and turned back to the plants, repotting some flowers that had outgrown the pots they were encased in. I got a hang of clipping the leaves that had died and even enjoyed it after a while. I reveled in the silence that was presented.
Cant really call it silence, the wind still pushed through the ajar windows, the birds sang, and the soil crunched under my cheap shoes. Beside that though, and our shared breaths, it was quiet. Not a comfortable silence, an awkward 'you just asked your foster brother for a blow job' kind of silence. Either way though, I enjoyed it.
After we were done I was so tired I couldnt even think of going to town. I was caked in sweat, and dirt clung to my skin and under my nails. All I wanted to do was take a bath and sleep. To bad though, his tantrum made us have no free time before afternoon lessons.
We made it to the bath house, since the only running water was in the bathroom for the church goers. Other wise we had to use this huge basin of water that would filter every 45 minutes and was freezing cold even though the weather was 99 degrees.
I didnt even think before stripping and falling into the icy water. Thomas watched me, but I was so tired I didnt care.
He followed me into the water and used the cheap shampoo to wash himself before tossing it to me.
I dripped the soap on my head, letting the suds fall onto my chest and back. He watched, lip bit between two pairs of teeth like a straight high school girl watching Tom Holland.
"Its rude to stare," I joked, trying to get rid of the heaviness of our earlier conversation.
"I know what I want from you." He said, somewhat ominously.
I blinked before turning to him, "And what exactly is that?"