Stepping Out in Faith - 12. Chapter 9

"One more. Push, push, push!"

Andy grimaced and strained, willing his muscles to cooperate. Just another inch—his arms shook with the effort. Sweat poured from every inch of his skin, dripped into his eyes and blurred his vision of Marcus above him.

“Come on, come on, just a little farther.” Marcus urged Andy on.

From his last reserve of strength, Andy gave one final push. Relief washed over him when Marcus caught the bar and set the weights back on their stand. Andy’s arms fell limp toward the floor as he lay on the padded bench.

“You still alive there?” Marcus chuckled as he leaned over the bar, his curls falling over his eyes.

Andy smiled up at him. “Barely.”

Marcus laughed as he came around the bench to give Andy a hand, but Andy didn’t have the strength to even lift his arm. Instead, he rolled on to his side, off the bench, and caught himself just before he hit the floor.

“Whoa, you okay, babe?” Marcus caught Andy by the shoulders and steadied him.

Andy ignored the way his heart fluttered when Marcus called him babe; Marcus had done it a couple of times already. Andy had been alarmed at first, not quite ready to admit that their relationship allowed for endearments and frankly terrified that other people would overhear. But after a few times of Marcus whispering it under his breath like just now, Andy had to stop himself from saying it back. Just like he had to stop himself before he touched Marcus or leaned into him for support and warmth.

“I think we can call it day.” Marcus laughed as he led the way toward the change room.

“Ugh, thank you,” Andy mumbled. “I haven’t been this sore since... Well, actually, never mind.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Since?”

The brilliant red heat that blossomed on Andy’s cheeks had nothing to do with the strenuous workout Marcus just put them through.

“Andy?”

“Since that night,” Andy muttered under his breath.

“That night?”

“That night, you know, the first time we….”

Dark eyebrows shot up. “You were sore afterwards?”

How embarrassing; he hadn’t meant to bring that up. At least there wasn’t anyone else in the change room to overhear.

“I mean, I knew your ass was sore, but your whole body?”

The blush took on a mind of its own and spread up to his ears and down to his chest.

Marcus laughed out loud. “If I’d known, we could have done more of that kind of exercise.”

The suggestion sent blood rushing to Andy’s cock, but unfortunately it didn’t lessen the ruddiness of his cheeks. It also didn’t help that Marcus was nonchalantly stripping down for a shower, his body rippling with muscle and glistening with sweat.

Shower—air rushed out of Andy’s lungs. Suddenly, images of Marcus standing under streams of warm water, the air heavy with steam, filled Andy’s mind while blood pooled in his cock. A locker door banged in the distance, but Andy was too preoccupied by the sight of Marcus stalking toward him, gloriously naked and predatory, to notice. Marcus paused just inches away, his sweat a primal fragrance of cinnamon and spice, and Andy’s exhausted body swayed toward the intoxicating smell.

“Hard to shower with clothes on, Doe Eyes.” Marcus’ voice was low and raw and sent jolts of electricity straight to Andy’s cock.

He swallowed thickly and jumped into action; Andy had never stripped so fast in his life. With a towel in hand, he followed Marcus to the shower stalls, unable to take his eyes off the way Marcus’ ass shifted when he walked.

In the showers, Marcus headed straight to the last stall and pulled Andy in before snapping the curtain shut. The rattling sound sent shivers up Andy’s spine. And then it was just the two of them in the enclosed space with Marcus’ beautiful cock standing at full mast, begging Andy to get down on his knees and worship it.

So that’s what he did. Ignoring the bite of the tile, Andy dropped to his knees and pressed his face against the smooth skin of Marcus’ crotch. He barely noticed when water suddenly washed down Marcus’ body, forging paths around ridges of muscle.

Andy’s lips found Marcus’ hip, and his tongue sneaked out to taste the salty, wet skin. Rivers of water guided Andy to the base of Marcus’ cock, where the thick organ rubbed against his face. One deep breath of cinnamon and spice, and the thick smell made Andy’s dick leak onto the shower floor.

Tilting forward, Andy slipped each one of the low hanging balls into his mouth and let Marcus’ heavy prick rest on his face. The skin was smooth like velvet as it slid across Andy’s cheek. It was so wrong, kneeling in the shower with his face filled with cock and balls, and yet it felt so unbelievably right to be worshiping Marcus this way. Andy couldn’t contain the moan of pleasure that escaped his throat.

A gasp from above him prompted Andy to open his eyes, where he was treated to the sight of Marcus staring down at him, face framed with wet curls, and eyes heavy-lidded with desire. Water poured over his body like a waterfall; he was beautiful.

Andy switched his attention to the thick length of Marcus’ dick and used his fingers to pull the foreskin back and forth along the stiff rod. Wrapping his lips around the purple head, Andy sucked until Marcus tensed under his fingers and a gush of pre-cum landed on his tongue. Delicious.

It became Andy’s goal to get as much of that pre-cum as he could. One hand pumped along the base and the other tugged at the balls while Andy’s tongue prodded at the piss slit, milking it for more of that tangy liquid.

“Ugh, Doe Eyes, please,” Marcus said. His fingers found their way into Andy’s wet hair. “You’re going to kill me like this.”

Andy moaned in response, and Marcus tightened his fingers as his hips thrust forward and drove more of his cock into Andy’s mouth.

“Doe Eyes, please.” Marcus took hold of Andy’s shoulders, pulled him up and panted against his mouth. They kissed lazily while their slick bodies pressed together and their hands caressed, explored and grasped at each other.

Then Marcus moved suddenly and Andy found himself standing under the spray. The warm water felt so good against his sore muscles, and he dropped his head back to enjoy the soothing heat.

A low, strangled noise was the only warning Andy got before he felt Marcus’ soapy hands on him, massaging his chest. Those hands roamed everywhere, squeezing and kneading the soreness out of Andy’s body.

Once satisfied with his work, Marcus spun him around and pressed him, face first against the shower wall. Andy brought his hands up to brace himself, enjoying the stark contrast between the cool tiles under his cheek and the heat of Marcus behind him.

Not one inch was overlooked by Marcus’ thorough hands, and when they reached his ass, Andy unconsciously widened his stance to grant better access. His ass got special attention with Marcus’ strong fingers digging into the large globes until Andy’s knees buckled and he collapsed against the wall. But Marcus wasn’t done.

He pulled Andy’s ass cheeks apart to let streams of water run down the crack and over the exposed hole. The delicate ring of muscle twitched under the water’s gentle caress. Then a soapy finger pushed and prodded at the opening until the ring relaxed enough to be breached. It was just the tip of Marcus’ finger, but even that little portion of Marcus inside of him brought a deep sense of relief and belonging.

Andy’s cock ached, but he ignored it; he was too preoccupied with what Marcus was doing to his ass. His finger was wholly inside now, the rest of his hand bumping up against Andy’s ass checks. Then he felt the sharpness of teeth grazing lightly across his butt, stroking the fire burning in his groin.

Marcus pulled his finger out, much to Andy’s chagrin, but quickly replaced it with his tongue, the wet, wriggling muscle a scalding spear at the center of Andy’s ass.

“Yes, oh Marcus, yes,” Andy said. Before he realized what he was doing, he reached back to push Marcus’ face more firmly into his ass. A chuckle radiated from Andy’s hole up through his whole body, and he pushed back even harder on Marcus’ face.

Andy was melting. First the workout, then a full-body massage, and now getting his ass expertly eaten. He was melting into a puddle and in danger of being washed down the drain. He didn’t mind so much; he figured there were worse ways to go.

With one final squeeze, Marcus kissed his way up Andy’s spine and licked at the drops of water running down Andy’s neck. He let himself get pulled back against Marcus’ chest and wiggled his hips when he felt Marcus’ dick slip in between his thighs.

“Mm... Marcus.” He desperately wanted to feel Marcus’ thickness slide deep inside his body.

“Oh, god, Doe Eyes, I’d love to,” Marcus murmured into Andy’s ear. His hands sought out Andy’s nipples and gave them a quick pinch. The slight pain caused Andy to arch back into Marcus.

“Please, Marcus. I need you.”

“Can’t, baby,” Marcus said between kisses. “We don’t have condoms in here.”

An impatient sound escaped from his throat, and Andy wondered for a second if that had actually come from him.

“But I have another idea.”

The warmth of Marcus’ body disappeared for a moment before strong hands turned him around and re-settled him against the cool tile. Their bodies pressed closely together, leaving just enough room for Marcus’ nimble fingers to close around their leaking cocks. The feeling of Marcus’ hard steel against his own sent shudders of pleasure through Andy’s body, and he clutched at Marcus, nuzzling his face against Marcus’ neck.

Every breath came out as a gasp as Marcus stroked their cocks with a twisting motion. Andy couldn’t stop himself from thrusting his hips, chasing after that mind-numbing pleasure. The change in angle caused Marcus’ bulbous head to bump against the sensitive underside of Andy’s cock. Again and again, Andy thrust until the friction triggered a tidal wave of pleasure that rippled over his body.

Needing more of Marcus, he latched on to Marcus’ mouth to complete their connection. The taste of his own ass on Marcus’ tongue sparked another wave of pleasure until Andy drowned in the sensations flooding over him. A second later, a deep growl emanated from Marcus’ chest, and he, too, erupted, spraying his cum over their bodies.

The air was heavy, the steam making it difficult to catch their breaths. They were still pressed together, cheek against cheek, breathing heavily in each other’s ear.

There was something Andy wanted to say, something on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. It couldn’t be true, he told himself, yet the urge to say the words were right there.

Instead, he tried to say it with his eyes. He held Marcus’ beautiful face between his palms and let everything he couldn’t say show in his gaze. Marcus inhaled sharply and exhaled shakily.

“Oh, Doe Eyes,” Marcus whispered. He leaned his forehead against Andy’s. “What am I going to do with you?”

Andy smiled and planted a quick kiss on Marcus’ lips. He hadn’t said anything either in their little moment, but somehow Andy felt it. The feelings were mutual, he just knew it, and the rightness of the moment stole his breath away.

“I don’t think we can shower together anymore,” Marcus said with a smirk.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s too distracting, that’s why.” Marcus laughed.

Andy joined his laughter and let himself be pushed under the spray to wash away the remnants of their pleasure. Then, he wrapped his towel around his waist and followed Marcus back out. He liked following Marcus, he realized. He wanted to follow Marcus everywhere.

But he stopped short when suddenly he realized they weren’t alone. There were men in the shower area and men changing by their lockers—men who must have heard the moaning and groaning between him and Marcus. A wave of panic rose in Andy’s chest.

He felt the weight of their eyes staring at him, eyes that judged him for carrying out such disgraceful acts—in public, no less. Andy’s hands shook as he tried to undo the lock to his locker.

“You okay?” Marcus asked. “You’re shaking.”

The combination lock rattled against the metal door, and he dropped it to clasp his hands together.

“Hey.” Strong fingers closed around Andy’s, and a warm palm cupped Andy’s cheek. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“No—nothing.” Andy stole a quick glance around to see if anyone was within ear shot.

Marcus saw the movement. “Are you worried about the other guys in here? That they heard us?”

Caught, Andy swallowed thickly and nodded.

“Don’t worry.” Marcus smiled. “No one cares. Most people here are gay. And, I’m sure that’s not the first time they’ve heard people... do more than shower in there.”

An obligatory blush grew at Marcus’ suggestion and Andy nodded in response, but it didn’t make him feel better. How could he have been so careless? It was one thing to engage in these types of activities in the privacy of Marcus’ apartment, but to be so cavalier in public when anyone could walk in on them? The thought made Andy’s stomach twist, and he felt sick.

The feeling lingered as they left the gym and headed toward Hudson River Park. Marcus kept up a light chatter, and Andy forced himself to respond at the appropriate times. But inside, his mind was flooded with thoughts of condemnation and shame, each one raining judgment on his soul.

“Repent! For the Kingdom of God is near!” A loud voice rang out through the street.

At the warning, bile threatened to rise in Andy’s throat, making it difficult to breathe and impossible to think.

“Turn from your evil ways!” A man with a microphone and a small speaker preached on the street corner, surrounded by placards announcing the impending return of Jesus Christ in the apocalypse. “Turn from your life of sin and debauchery, of sexual immorality and adultery!”

The stranger turned and stared right at Andy. His words came out in a ghostly whisper: “Repent and beg the Lord God for forgiveness before it’s too late.”

Andy took an involuntary step backwards. How had he known? A deep sense of doom overpowered the bustling noise of the street until all that remained was the stranger with the microphone and his haunting stare. How had he known?

“Hey, don’t listen to him. He’s crazy.” Marcus’ words floated hazily into Andy’s consciousness. “Andy?”

He jumped at a warm hand on his arm and snapped his head around. Marcus’ brow was furrowed in a deep frown. “Are you okay?” Marcus sounded suspicious.

“What? Oh, yes, yes, I’m sorry.” Andy glanced back at the preaching stranger, but he had moved on to terrorizing other pedestrians.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered again. He hurried down the street without waiting for Marcus to follow.

Maybe that guy was crazy, but he was also right. Andy’s life had disintegrated into debauchery, sexual immorality and adultery; his life was ruled by sin. Not only had he engaged in forbidden acts of homosexuality and enjoyed them, but he lied about it daily to John, to his parish, and most importantly to God.

He used to take pride in his role and responsibility as a priest to maintain a high degree of integrity and honesty. But during the past several months, he had become nothing more than a hypocrite. The more Andy thought about it, the more disgusted with himself he became.

With his head down, Andy walked, lost in his own dark thoughts. He paid no attention to Marcus or to any of the people they passed on the sidewalk until they reached the water’s edge.

It wasn’t until Andy gripped the railing by the water that he realized how hard he had been shaking. He took a deep breath of the salty Hudson River air and let the stinging in his lungs dull his unsteady nerves. The late evening sun hovered over the New Jersey skyline, but the beauty of the sight was lost on Andy.

When he felt solid enough to speak, he looked over at Marcus, silent and staring at the horizon. The sun’s reflection off the water danced in Marcus’ eyes, and the growing shadows highlighted his high cheekbones. Once again, Andy was struck by Marcus’ beauty, but this time he also felt a deep sense of regret.

He regretted the impossibility of his situation; he regretted the strict teachings of the Catholic Church. And while he found that he couldn’t regret any single moment he had spent in Marcus’ company, a part of him did wish he had never met Marcus. At least that way it wouldn’t be so difficult to choose.

Marcus turned under the weight of Andy’s gaze. He looked guarded and wary; it tugged at Andy’s heart. “You want to tell me what happened back there?”

Andy opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“You know that guy was crazy, right?” Marcus said. “You can’t take any of that seriously.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“So tell me what happened.”

What could he say? He wanted to tell Marcus, felt compelled to share everything, but what could he say? How exactly was he supposed to explain the conflict between his feelings for Marcus and his loyalty to the Church? How was he supposed to explain when he barely understood it himself?

“Andy?” Marcus touched Andy on the arm, and before he could stop himself, Andy stepped out of Marcus’ grasp.

He knew that was the wrong reaction, but he wasn’t prepared for the hardness that descended over Marcus’ face. Marcus’ eyes darkened, his jaw clenched, and his lips pressed into a narrow line. They still stood next to each other, but a chasm had opened between them, adding to the panic already gripping Andy’s chest.

“No, Marcus. No—I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” Andy sighed and whispered, “I’m sorry. Please… I’m sorry I freaked out on you.”

Marcus nodded but didn’t respond.

“I’m just… confused.” Andy forced himself to speak the words.

“About what?”

“Everything. How I feel about you—about… us.” That last word was so difficult to get out. “It’s hard. You understand that, right?”

Marcus’ expression didn’t change—still hard and unyielding. He looked back out onto the shimmering gold water.

They stood there like that for long silent moments before Marcus abruptly turned and walked away. After a beat, Andy followed him to a nearby bench; he made sure to leave an acceptable gap between them when he sat down.

“Can I ask you a question?” Marcus asked after several more silent moments.

Nodding, Andy braced himself for questions he likely wouldn’t want to answer.

“Why did you go to Ritz that first night?”

Andy frowned. “Um... well, you know why.”

“Yeah, I know that. But I meant, why that night? Why not in college like everyone else, when you’re supposed to be experimenting?”

That was a different kind of question, and Andy pondered his answer before speaking. “I went to a small Catholic college not far from home. There were only sixty people in my class. Everyone knew everyone, and the school kept pretty close tabs on all of us.” He shrugged. “I had a few encounters off campus. There was a little fooling around, stolen kisses and hand-groping stuff, but nothing like… you know.”

That embarrassing blush painted Andy’s cheeks a glowing pink.

“And after college?” Marcus’ voice was still deadpan.

“I moved back home. I was assigned to the parish I grew up in, and I literally knew every single person in town. There was no escape—until my bishop approached me about this opportunity in New York. The Archdiocese here was looking for younger priests who could reach out to youth. It was supposed to be a good career move.” Andy paused, not sure he should say what was on his tongue. “I actually didn’t want to come.”

“No?”

“No, I knew there’d be too much temptation. Too many opportunities to indulge in something I’d tried so hard to ignore my whole life.”

Silence stretched between them, tense and strained.

There was so much that was beautiful and precious between them, Andy couldn’t deny that. He yearned to claim all of it for himself, but how long would it last? How long could he keep up this façade before everything came falling apart around him? He knew that sooner or later he would have to make a choice: stay true to his faith and everything he knew to be right or follow these forbidden feelings down an unknown path.

“Do you regret coming to New York?” The question came in a whisper between clenched teeth.

A sharp pain stabbed at Andy’s heart; how did Marcus read his mind like that?

“Sometimes,” he whispered back. “But I don’t regret meeting you.”

Their eyes met; Marcus’ were still dark, but Andy detected a tinge of hurt—hurt that he caused. The pain in his heart intensified. This—hurting Marcus—Andy regretted more than anything else he had done since moving to New York.

Marcus didn’t deserve pain. He had been nothing but generous and kind to Andy, and he deserved better than how Andy had treated him.

“Why me?” Andy echoed a question Marcus had asked the first night they were together. “Why do you care about me? It’s not like I have anything to offer you, so why do you care?”

Marcus let out a loud sigh and stared off across the water and into the distance.

“You know what? I’m not really sure I know.” His voice still had that hard edge to it. But after a pause, Marcus continued, his voice softer this time. “You’re... real. All the guys I know work so hard at maintaining a perfect image with fancy hairstyles and brand-name clothes. They have to be seen going to the trendy restaurants and the coolest bars. They’re all about looking good on the outside, but when you dig past the surface, there usually isn’t anything there.

“They’re fake, but you’re real. You wear your emotions right on your face, and you don’t try to hide them behind a mask. You care about the people around you more than you care about what they think of you. You have depth, you think about things and ask meaningful questions and you understand my answers.”

The darkness had dissipated from Marcus’ eyes, and in its place was awe—awe that Andy knew he didn’t deserve. The desire to just bask in those words was so strong, but the thoughts of condemnation rang too loud. The longer Marcus spoke, the heavier the words felt on Andy’s heart.

“You’re beautiful,” Marcus whispered. “Your soul is beautiful. But you don’t even realize it; it just radiates off of you.”

Andy felt like he was suffocating, the weight of Marcus’ admiration adding to the already heavy burden of guilt he carried around. His chest felt as if there was a vice clamped tightly around it, and with every breath he took the vice only got tighter.

He didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to believe; he couldn’t sort out the thoughts of condemnation from the desperate yearning in his heart for what Marcus offered. His whole life had been so simple up till now—deny himself, serve the Church—but that life didn’t feel like it was enough anymore.

But what more could there be? A life dedicated to serving the Church was supposed to be the highest calling; so why couldn’t Andy be satisfied with that? Why did he feel like he needed more?

Andy stood abruptly and paced a few steps away from the bench. He had to force his lungs to drag in air for fear of passing out. He wanted to scream. He wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. He wanted… Andy wasn’t sure what he wanted anymore.

“Andy?” Marcus had followed Andy off the bench and stood an arm’s length away. Andy hated the look of concern and weariness he read in Marcus’ eyes.

“I’m sorry, I—” Andy’s voice cracked. He started again: “I should probably go home.”

Marcus’ eyes darkened again; Andy could see his walls going up.

“Sorry, I know we were going to have dinner. But… I don’t think I can eat right now. I need to sort through some things.”

Marcus nodded, but the darkness remained.

“I’ll walk you home,” Marcus said.

“No—” Andy said a little too quickly. He raised his hands to keep Marcus back, and regretted it immediately. “Sorry, I just… I just need some time to think.”

But it was too late. Marcus’ wall was firmly in place, his eyes hard, jaw clenched tightly and lips pressed into a thin line. Andy hated it, but he didn’t know how to undo it.

“Yeah, right.” Marcus’ voice was strained. “It’s probably for the best, anyways. Good night.”

Andy watched, helpless, as Marcus turned on his heel and walked away. This was wrong. The thought resonated loudly through Andy’s heart and screamed at him to run after Marcus. But Andy didn’t know how, wasn’t sure that he could. So he stood there and watched Marcus walk away as his heart broke.