Stepping Out in Faith - 13. Chapter 10

Andy ran his hands over the worn black leather of the Liturgy of Hours. The words in it were sacred and holy; they were prayers he had prayed every day of his life. During the past several months, though, Andy knew he had been praying them in a state of sin and with an unclean heart. The prayers were tainted by his inability to resist temptation; he had blasphemed the sanctity of the prayers.

The gravity of what he had done weighed heavily on Andy’s shoulders. He had made a mockery of the priestly calling, he had dishonored the most holy vow he made, and he had betrayed the trust of the people he claimed to serve. He had no right to be praying from the tome when he still lived under the stain of sin.

He opened the book at random and flipped through the pages; snippets of the text jumped out at him as he went. There were words of praise, confession, and petition, each one a tiny knife that struck deep in his heart. For so much of his life, these words framed how he understood himself and his place in the world. All of it had been turned on its head in the short time he had spent with Marcus.

Andy flipped to that day’s prayers and read. The words felt foreign, like they were someone else’s words being stuffed into his mouth. He felt like he was going to choke on them. A wave of nausea rose from his stomach, and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly to wait for the feeling to pass. When his stomach settled, he opened his eyes again and gazed at the words on the page. The more he stared at them, the less they made sense.

In frustration, Andy closed the book and fell to his knees. He wanted to yell and scream, to release the heaviness that enveloped him. Instead, he struggled just to breathe.

Look up. A little voice spoke in his head.

Andy looked up at the crucifix hanging on the wall where the Christ gazed back down on him—the nails driven through the hands and the feet of the Son of God, the crown of thorns on His head.

Jesus Christ had a hard life. He faced temptations and overcame them, and He made sacrifices. You made a vow to do the same, but where are you now?

The accusation rang in Andy’s ears. It’s true, he did make a vow. No one ever said it was going to be easy, and he had never expected it to be easy. So what excuse did he have to be looking for a way out now? There was no excuse.

And Marcus. Well, Marcus was better off without him, Andy reasoned with himself. Andy was not a free man; he didn’t have the liberty to give himself to Marcus. He was bound by the teachings of the Church, and he was bound by his vow to dedicate his life to serving the Church. Marcus deserved someone who could give him everything; Andy could not be that person.

Andy reached for the tome and opened it again to the day’s prayers. His fingers hovered over the words. Fake it till you make it, he reminded himself. He prayed, and then he prayed again and again until the repetition of the words made some headway into his heart. He prayed until his voice was hoarse and the words on the page blurred with the tears filling his eyes.

He knew what he had to do. It wasn’t going to be easy, but it was his obligation. He just wished he didn’t feel so dead inside.

*****

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since Andy freaked out on him. Since then, they had exchanged a couple of texts, just simple hello’s and how are you’s and I’m fine’s. There was no talk about what was wrong, but Marcus had a pretty good idea.

It was his own fault, really, ignoring all the warnings from his mom and Stephen. Andy was deep in the closet; Marcus was a fool to think he would be the one to bring Andy out.

The more he thought about it, the more pissed off it made him. He was angry at Andy for being a coward and refusing to be honest with himself and with the world. Marcus was angry at himself for falling for Andy when he knew it would end disastrously.

Was it really over? The thought sent a sharp stabbing pain through the middle of Marcus’ chest and forced all the air from his lungs. No, he didn’t want it to be over; every fiber of his being railed against the idea that it was over. It couldn’t be over.

“Marcus!”

Marcus turned at the sound of his name to find all the kids staring at him, puzzled and amused.

“What?”

“We called your name like, a million times, and you’ve just been staring out into space. And you broke your pencil,” Ryan said.

Sure enough, there was a broken pencil in his hand. He had forgotten he was even holding it.

“Oh, sorry.” Marcus gave himself a mental shake. He needed to focus on the kids now, not Andy; Andy would have to wait. “What did you need?”

“Um...” Nick looked uncertain. He shared a quick glance with the other kids before continuing. “Nothing. We just don’t know what to do next.” He pointed to the long poster taped on the wall that he and the other kids had been working on. Marcus was helping them design a banner for a local LGBT arts festival.

“Oh, right.”

Marcus pushed thoughts of Andy out of his head and tried his best to focus on the kids. But try as he might, those big, brown, doe eyes kept creeping back in. All week, he had been distracted at work and kept making simple mistakes until a colleague stopped him at lunch to ask if something was wrong. And now the kids were whispering among themselves. Marcus noticed the furtive glances and confused shrugs.

He tried to keep up a happy demeanour, but by the end of the evening, as the kids were cleaning up the art supplies, he was exhausted.

“Hey, Marcus.” Nick came up as he slung a backpack over his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“You okay?” Nick frowned. “You seem kind of off.”

Marcus smiled and put on a brave face. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” Marcus ruffled Nick’s hair before the teen could duck out of the way. “Sometimes life’s shit and you’ve got to deal with it.”

“Does it have to do with that guy? Andy?”

Marcus’ chest constricted at the mention of Andy’s name. He swallowed thickly and tried to smile but could tell that it came out strained.

“That’s what I thought,” Nick said.

“Look, Nick. These types of things can be complicated.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Nick shrugged. “I just thought you should know that he’s been creeping-out in the hallway for a while now.”

“What?” Marcus spun toward the door but didn’t see anyone.

“Yeah, he’s still out there. I ran into him when I went to the bathroom. Asked him to come in, but he said he’d rather wait out there.”

Andy was here? He hadn’t mentioned anything about coming, and with the lack of communication, Marcus hadn’t expected him to just show up.

“So yeah, anyway, you’re going to be okay, right?”

“Yeah.” Marcus smiled at the teen and pulled him into a quick hug. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

“Yeah, no problem. See you next week.”

Marcus waited until all the kids had left and everything was cleaned up before venturing out into the hall. His heart raced, nerves on edge, unsure what kind of reception he would get from Andy. Why had he come? Why was he waiting outside? Was he even there still?

Hope and terror mixed until Marcus couldn’t tell whether he was happy to see Andy at all. If Andy wanted to end whatever it was they had between them, Marcus knew he would be in trouble. Sure, he had always known his heart was at risk with Andy; he’s gotten enough warnings from Stephen. But knowing all that didn’t make the rejection any easier.

Steeling himself, Marcus headed out, and sure enough, he found Andy down the hallway, leaning against the wall. Marcus stopped and stared. There wasn’t anything special about Andy’s looks. He wasn’t the hottest guy or the cutest guy that Marcus had ever been with. But something about that thick mop of hair and the big brown eyes stole Marcus’ breath away.

He didn’t want to break the silence with words. As long as they didn’t speak, they couldn’t break up. Marcus’ itched with the need to pull Andy into his arms and never let go. He knew things would never be simple with Andy, but why did it have to be so hard?

“I’m sorry for just showing up like this,” Andy said. Uncertainty tinged his voice.

“Why didn’t you come in?”

Andy shrugged. “I didn’t think it was appropriate.”

Marcus knew what he meant. He didn’t want the kids to think he was gay. Andy was still in denial about his sexuality; that realization hurt. It tapped into Marcus’ anger at all the homophobic garbage that Andy had been fed, all that religious bullshit that was ruining the life of the man he loved.

Yes, he loved Andy. He could admit that to himself. He loved this closeted priest who was confused and in pain. And the fact that there was nothing Marcus could do to ease his pain only made Marcus want to love him more.

But Andy wouldn’t let him. It was unfair and irrational and made Marcus angry as hell. He channeled that anger and let it bubble to the surface. Anger was better than pain, safer than pain, hurt less than pain.

“So what are you doing here?” Marcus heard the hard edge in his words. He regretted them the second they left his mouth. The way Andy started tore at Marcus’ heart, but he told himself he had a right to stay angry.

“I... need to talk to you.” Andy swallowed. The movement drew Marcus’ attention to Andy’s thick neck and bobbing Adam’s apple. Marcus hated that he noticed how sexy that neck was at a time like this.

“About what?”

“About, um...” Andy’s voice trailed off.

This wasn’t the conversation Marcus wanted to have. Andy looked restless, shifting from foot to foot, tension evident in his posture. A battle played out in Andy’s eyes, a struggle to resist the tangible draw they both felt when near each other.

A spark of hope continued to shine in Marcus as the longing grew in Andy’s eyes. The battle was being won by an inexplicable need, a restlessness that came from being away from the person you loved for too long. Marcus recognized it because it was the same look that greeted him every time he looked in the mirror.

Andy let out a ragged sigh, and Marcus felt the sound as if it were a physical blow to his body. He took two steps to close the distance between them and lifted a hand to raise Andy’s eyes to his own. There was love there, he could see it. He hoped Andy could see the love returned in his own eyes.

If they loved each other, they could make things work, right? They had to make it work. Love didn’t come around every day; they had to cherish it when they found it.

Marcus leaned in for a gentle kiss, but Andy stopped him halfway with a hand on Marcus’ wrist.

“No, wait…No, I…” Andy trembled under Marcus’ hand. His eyes blinked back tears. “I need…” Andy’s voice trailed off. He squeezed his eyes shut. The tortured look on his face chipped away at Marcus’ fragile heart.

“Shh…” Marcus whispered against Andy’s lips. “Don’t say it. Please, not yet.”

It was just a lingering brush of lips, but the simple touch broke the tension between them, and with a sob Andy pressed himself closer to Marcus and melted into his arms.

Marcus growled low in his chest. Yes, this was what he missed, the feeling of Andy in his arms, lips underneath his own, tongues rubbing seductively against each other. Marcus breathed deep the woodsy scent of Andy and let it fill his senses and imprint on his consciousness. He felt whole with Andy in his arms. Andy—the only one who could fill the empty space in Marcus’ soul.

This was the one; the truth reverberated deeply through Marcus’ being. This was the man Marcus wanted to build a life with, to share the joys and the struggles. This was the man that he wanted to grow old and wrinkled with. In that moment, holding Andy in his arms, Marcus knew that truth beyond any doubt.

Marcus wasn’t sure how they made it back to his apartment. No words were exchanged, just fast walking, hand in hand, both eager to consummate the feeling that overwhelmed them. When they got home, Marcus glanced at his bar cart but immediately decided against it; he didn’t want anything to dull his memory of this night; he wanted to remember every single moment in vivid color.

Andy stood in the middle of the apartment with shoulders slumped. His eyes drifted from the couch, to the armchair, then to the bed—each a place where Andy had given a part of himself to Marcus. Andy looked like he was saying goodbye.

No. Marcus rejected the idea. This could not be goodbye. He didn’t know if he could survive a goodbye. But as Andy turned to face him, Marcus could read the goodbye in Andy’s eyes.

“No.” The word was spoken from reaction rather than thought. Marcus cupped Andy’s face between his palms and lowered his forehead to rest against Andy’s. They shared each other’s air, and Marcus tried to fill his lungs with as much of Andy as he could.

“Marcus,” Andy whispered. The sound of his own name on Andy’s lips almost brought Marcus to his knees.

Andy tugged at Marcus’ hands and flattened them against his chest. He rubbed his nose against Marcus’ and whispered, “Please.”

Marcus couldn’t help but comply. Slowly, he unbuttoned Andy’s shirt and watched as the other man relaxed in surrender. Marcus planted kisses on the exposed skin; it smelled of evergreens. Andy’s chest hairs were soft against Marcus’ cheek, and he rubbed his face back and forth to mark himself with that fresh, cleansing scent. Andy’s fingers tightened in Marcus’ hair, keeping him close. He searched for one nipple, and then the next, and treated them each to gentle nibbles and a soothing tongue.

“Marcus.” Andy’s voice was breathless. His head was bent forward, and he planted a kiss on the top of Marcus’ head. Marcus felt a tug on the back of his t-shirt, and he quickly shrugged it off to oblige.

Kneeling in front of Andy, Marcus went to work on the belt, and as Andy’s pants and briefs pooled around his ankles, Marcus sat back to admire the view. Andy’s cock stood up proud, and a pearly bead of pre-cum had formed at the tip.

Marcus’ own cock thickened in his jeans, but he ignored it to focus his attention on Andy. He leaned forward, licked the bead off and groaned at the salty, sweet flavor. Another lick, this time from base to tip, before Marcus took the bulging head into his mouth and bathed it with his tongue.

Andy was the perfect length, the perfect thickness; he sat right in Marcus’ mouth, just large enough for Marcus to feel full but not too much to be suffocated. Marcus wanted to suck on that cock for the rest of his life and never take it out of his mouth.

Marcus used his tongue to lick and lap at the veiny underside and groaned when the head of Andy’s cock hit the back of his throat. The vibrations made Andy jump, and Marcus used the opportunity to swallow Andy’s length.

“Ahh...” Andy came apart above him, fingers buried in Marcus’ hair, knees shaking with the effort to remain standing.

Marcus bobbed up and down. Every upstroke deposited more pre-cum on his tongue, and every down stroke stretched his throat to the full. He lost track of time just sucking on Andy’s cock.

“Marcus, please. You’re going to make me come.” Andy tugged at Marcus’ hair to get him off his cock.

Normally, this would only encourage Marcus to suck harder, eager to drink Andy’s seed. But tonight they needed something different. Marcus pulled off and pushed Andy gently onto the bed. Shucking Andy’s pants from around his ankles, Marcus pushed Andy’s legs up and dove into that precious pink entrance.

He groaned at the taste of Andy; his tongue lapped and probed at the delicate skin. Andy was a drug, and Marcus’ head spun from the most enthralling high. He couldn’t hold back a groan when Andy’s hole relaxed against his exploring tongue.

“Marcus, please. I can’t wait any longer.” Andy pulled Marcus up for a sloppy wet kiss. “Please, I need you inside me.”

“Anything for you, Doe Eyes.” Marcus slid from the bed to throw off his clothes and grab a condom, all the while keeping his eyes locked on the vision of Andy lying in his bed. He looked so stunning that Marcus had to stop and stare for a moment to brand the visual into his memory. This man held Marcus’ heart; he didn’t know if they would survive tomorrow, but he knew his heart was no longer his own.

Their eyes met as Andy lay on the bed and Marcus stood over him. He saw his own love mirrored in Andy’s eyes. Andy loved him. He knew that without a doubt; it was written plain as day in the way Andy gazed at him. But was that love strong enough to overcome Andy’s sense of obligation to the Catholic Church? Marcus didn’t want to dwell on the answer to that question.

Instead, he settled himself between Andy’s thighs and felt Andy’s arms and legs wrap around him. They kissed, and Marcus pressed Andy into the bed until not one molecule of air could get between them. With a shift, Marcus’ cock slipped between Andy’s ass cheeks; he bucked and felt the head of his cock rub against Andy’s hole.

Andy whimpered into their kiss as his hands trailed down Marcus’ back and squeezed the firm globes of Marcus’ ass. That was all the encouragement Marcus needed to guide his cock into Andy’s body. It met with some resistance at first, but with a little prodding, he felt the muscles give way.

Oh god, he loved being inside Andy. His channel was so hot and tight and when his sphincter closed around the head of Marcus’ cock, Marcus had to pause and breathe for fear of blowing his load right away. When he felt the urge recede, Marcus worked his way in with short little strokes until he was buried as deep as he could go.

“Oh, god, Doe Eyes.” Marcus buried his face into the crook of Andy’s neck and inhaled his clean scent. He held himself deep inside the man he loved and savored the feeling of Andy all around him. Marcus was completely at the mercy of this man, vulnerable and exposed. And as much as Marcus knew it wasn’t the prudent thing to do, he hoped against all hope that Andy would somehow choose him.

“Marcus.” Andy’s voice drifted through the air, laced with the same need and desperation that Marcus felt.

Marcus moved slowly, pulling out until the head of his cock bumped against Andy’s inner sphincter. Then he reversed directions and pushed himself in at an excruciatingly slow pace. Andy sighed at the slow love-making and tilted his hips to give Marcus a better angle.

Their lips found each other again, and their tongues danced an equally slow dance. Neither man wanted to rush the tender memory they were creating. Marcus trailed kisses down Andy’s neck and along his collarbone; his teeth and tongue marking the delicate skin. He reveled in the heat that simmered between them; it built slowly but steadily until they were both covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

On the next instroke, Andy bucked his hips, and Marcus hit his prostrate. A shudder ran through Andy’s body as he clamped down on Marcus’ cock. Marcus’ grunted and bit gently at Andy’s shoulder. Andy’s fingers found their way into Marcus’ hair and pulled him back up for a deep soul-rending kiss.

“Oh, Andy,” Marcus whispered against his lips when they finally broke off to breathe.

“Marcus,” Andy whispered back, with just as much reverence.

Marcus looked down at the man he loved, his face blurry from being too close, but beautiful just the same. Unable to resist any longer, Marcus picked up speed. He pulled out almost all the way and sunk back into Andy’s heat. Andy matched the rhythm and tilted up to meet him half way.

The simmer built into a boil until it threatened to consume them both. They surrendered themselves to the inexplicable force that had brought them together, the love that touched both of their souls and changed them forever.

Faster and faster Marcus moved, driven by the roiling heat between them. He reached between their bodies to grasp Andy’s hard and weeping cock, wet with pre-cum and their shared sweat.

“Oh, Marcus,” Andy gasped. “I’m so close.”

“So am I, Doe Eyes, so am I. Come with me.”

Marcus pumped his hand in time with his hips and sped up as he felt Andy tense underneath him. His own orgasm was right there, primed to explode as they both hurtled toward the end.

“Marcus,” Andy whispered one last time as he bucked and shot rope after rope of cum between their bodies. The clenching of Andy’s ass around Marcus’ cock triggered Marcus’ own orgasm as he plunged himself deep inside the man he loved and filled the condom with a never-ending stream of cum.

Marcus collapsed on top of Andy, too spent to roll off. Andy didn’t seem to mind though, judging from the way his arms wrapped tightly around Marcus.

I love you. The words echoed through Marcus’ head. If only he was brave enough to say them out loud. Andy placed a tender kiss on Marcus’ temple. As he pressed his lips there, Marcus imagined that it was Andy’s way of saying he loved him, too.

They stayed entwined in each other until Marcus’ cock softened enough to slip out of Andy’s body. Marcus reluctantly rolled off and disposed of the condom before scooping his love back into his arms. With his head resting on Marcus’ chest, Marcus ran his fingers through the thick strands of toffee-brown hair.

“I’m sorry,” Andy whispered.

Marcus’ fingers paused in Andy’s hair for a moment before continuing. “Why?”

“Because... Because I can’t give you what you want, what you deserve.”

Marcus swallowed thickly as he felt his throat close up. “And how do you know what I want or what I deserve?”

“I have a pretty good idea. And I can’t give you that. I can’t be the man you need me to be.” Andy pushed himself up to sitting; his hand still rested on Marcus’ thigh, but he wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“I’m a priest. It’s my calling. It comes before everything else. I know we have something between us, I can’t deny that. But my priesthood is more important, and sacrifices are a necessary, even expected, part of that calling.”

“That’s bullshit.” Marcus sat up and cradled Andy’s face between his palms. “There’s something seriously fucked up about a religion that forces you to lie about who you are. Isn’t God’s creation perfect? Well, God created you, which means you’re perfect just the way you are.”

Andy removed Marcus’ hands from his face and held them in his lap. “God’s creation was perfect. But it’s been corrupted by the evil one. We all have been corrupted by the evil one.” His response sounded rote.

“So what? You’re supposed to spend the rest of your life flogging yourself, hoping that you can beat the gay out?”

Andy frowned and looked off into the distance. “You don’t understand.”

“Damn right, I don’t understand.” Marcus scooted closer and used a finger to bring Andy’s gaze back to his. “What we did just now. That wasn’t just sex; it wasn’t just some physical release. I know you felt it, because I felt it, too. That was... special... it’s... love.”

Marcus’ heart thumped wildly in his chest, and all he could hear was the blood rushing past his ears. Please, God. Marcus sent up a silent prayer to whatever god happened to be out there, begging for some supernatural intervention that would save the love they had.

Andy’s eyes betrayed his struggles; Marcus watched as joy first lit Andy’s eyes at his confession of love, which was then replaced by fear and panic, and finally confusion. No, please, God, no.

“Come on, Andy. Don’t tell me you can deny it. I know you felt it.”

Marcus wanted to smooth out the frown creasing Andy’s brow and roll back time a few minutes so they could stay in that post-coital bliss forever. But instead, panic rose in his chest as he realized that Andy was not choosing him.

“No, Andy, please.” Marcus cradled Andy’s face again and pressed their foreheads together. He wasn’t ready to let Andy go, couldn’t just let Andy walk out of his life. Andy sniffled, and as Marcus raised his head, he saw tears rolling down the face of the man he loved.

“Doe Eyes, don’t cry.” Marcus pulled Andy close and felt the wetness of Andy’s tears drip onto his shoulder.

“You’re not wrong.” Andy’s voice was little more than a whisper.

Marcus’ body tensed at Andy’s admission and waited for the “but.”

“I never thought I could feel this way about someone. Never thought I could lose my heart and soul to someone else.” Andy pulled back from Marcus’ embrace and looked up at Marcus with swollen red eyes. “But this peace I feel when I’m with you? I’m supposed to find that in God.”

Marcus rolled his eyes, a retort at the tip of his tongue. Andy stopped him with a finger pressed to Marcus’ lips.

“I know you don’t understand. Maybe it doesn’t make sense with the logic of this world. But it’s a theological truth, and I have an obligation to at least give it a decent shot.”

“Isn’t that what you’ve been trying to do for the past ten years?” Marcus regretted the thread of resentment that laced his words, especially when he realized that Andy had detected it, too.

“There’s no expiration date on the faith journey. Yeah, maybe I’ve been trying to find it for ten years, but even if it takes me ten more, it doesn’t mean I should just give up.”

“But you have found it, you said so yourself. Just because it’s not in the church, it’s not valid?”

Andy shook his head in denial. “It’s not the same thing.”

“Bullshit, it’s not the same thing. This whole thing is bullshit, and I think you know it. You’re just too chicken shit to admit it.” Marcus realized his mistake the second the words came out of his mouth.

But it was too late. Andy scrambled off the bed and grabbed his clothes from the floor.

“Wait, Andy, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. Please just stay; we’ll work it out.” Marcus followed Andy off the bed, not sure how to keep the other man from leaving.

“No, Marcus. You’ve made it quite clear what you think about my faith. You don’t understand that this is a part of who I am. I can’t separate myself from my faith; I don’t exist outside of my faith. If you really love me like you claim, then you’d love this part of me, too.”

“Come on Andy, don’t do this. Don’t just walk away from us.”

Andy paused with his hand on the doorknob. Marcus could see the man he loved debating with himself, the struggle written clearly on his face.

“Please, Andy.” Marcus begged. The tightness in his chest threatened to choke him.

Andy sighed as his shoulders slumped, and Marcus let himself hope for a fraction of a second that perhaps he had won, that he had convinced Andy to give them a chance. But as Andy tightened his grip on the doorknob, Marcus knew that his glimmer of hope was ill-founded.

“I’m sorry,” Andy whispered.

Marcus felt his heart break in half as Andy opened the door and walked out. He should have run out after Andy; he should have grabbed the man he loved and never let him go. Instead, Marcus sank onto the bed where they had just made love moments ago, the sheets still warm from their entwined bodies.

Marcus had never been a crier, never been very expressive of his emotions. But he couldn’t stop the single tear that rolled down his cheek.