Sacrilege--priest!kink Spangel

[thatotherperv]

nyghtpet braved a medical procedure involving Objects Which Shall Not Be Named, and I told her I'd write her a little somethin-somethin. actually, *several* somethings, but I think I just busted my nut for the day. I can't get it up again like I used to *g* on the upside, this ended up being ficlet-sized, which I had told her I wasn't capable of. so yay.

She wanted priest!Angel and schoolboy!Spike. this is set in a catholic school, where Father Liam is a school councilor of sorts. I don't even know if that's a thing. pretty much just a very thinly veiled premise for dirty kink.

you should be warned that I could fit everything I know about the Catholic faith into a thimble. Drabble designed accordingly, but I’m sure there are tells of my cluelessness.

I never specify Spike's age, so if it makes you happy, you can imagine he's already 18. or if it makes you happy, you can imagine he's younger. *shrugs*



Sacrilege

“So.” Father Liam cleared his throat, avoiding the gaze of the boy sitting across the desk. A boy that always made him unaccountably nervous. “What brings you to my office today, William?”

“Spike,” the boy corrected. Liam’s eyes ticked towards the bright blue ones holding his, and he nodded a small acknowledgement, prompting him to continue. “I have this problem, Father. I’m having these horribly sinful thoughts.”

Liam’s mouth dried at the slow cadence words, eyes drawn lower as the boy slouched further into his seat, hands sliding up his thighs. “These aren’t my hours for confessional.”

“I know, but you’re the only one I can talk to, and it couldn’t wait. I’ve been having these dreams, about…men. Shaggin’ me. Touchin’ me.”

Liam’s groin tightened at the words, and more shamefully, at the embarrassed tuck of the boy’s face towards the floor. Suddenly recognizing the stretch of silence that had passed, he cleared his throat.

It was his duty to look after not only these boys’ immortal souls, but their distress and well-being. He was good at his job…young enough to still understand their roller-coaster emotions, old enough to guide them. But just now, he seemed to have misplaced those skills.

“Well…uh…Spike, that’s a sin in the eyes of God, to be sure, but it’s no worse than—”

“I’m not done.” There was a moment, as the boy glanced up, that Liam felt his shame was actually feigned…but his next words wiped all thoughts from the priest’s mind. “It’s not just any man…technically. It’s you, Father. It’s you I dream of.”

Liam stared, face heating until he forced himself to look away. His heart pounded so hard, he wondered if it was possible for a man who was not yet 30 to have a heart attack.

“You….”

“I dream of you coming to me at night. In my room.” Liam said nothing…could say nothing. He felt the boy’s gaze on his face as he continued. “It’s dark, but not so dark that I can’t see your face, yeah? And you sit down on my bed, fully dressed…but I’m naked under the sheet. That’s how I sleep, bare-arsed as God made me.” Liam closed his eyes against the confession, but found that only made the images more vivid. His eyes met Spike’s. “And then you kiss me.”

Blood rushed in Liam’s ears as Spike’s eyes rolled closed with a hiss. “And Christ, it’s…I don’t know if you’d ever snogged anyone before you took your oath, Father, but in my dream, your lips are perfect on mine…. And your tongue….”

A strangled whimper sounded in Liam’s throat, and his eyes slid down over the boy’s dress jacket and tie, to where he was palming himself through his slacks…rubbing.

The sound of their panting filled the otherwise silent room. He should put a stop to this….

Then blue eyes opened and locked on his, and Liam couldn’t breathe as the boy walked around to his side of the desk. His chair rolled backwards in denial as Spike leaned back against the desk, his erection as blatant to Liam as his own.

But his eyes fixed on it in disbelief as the boy’s hand slid inside with a low exhale of a groan.

“See, in my dream…you want me so badly, Father, you can’t help yourself. Most nights, you wrap your lips around my cock before you even take off any of your own clothing….”

Buttons popped open, and there he was…frank and bare. Touching his cock in a priest’s office. A hysterical giggle bubbled up in Liam’s throat, warring with other, more sinful sounds. Liam had always condemned the men who had brought scandal on the Church, but he found he couldn’t look away, hot-cold-desperate.

“And fuck, your mouth feels like fire, and then you slide your finger inside, and we both moan, cause it’s such a tight fit.”

The boy’s hand sped, hips rocking up into his grip, and he whined in his throat. Liam’s knuckles whitened on the arms of his chair, balls drawing up tight.

“And when you fuck me…God forgive me, Father, but I can’t think of anything better. And you’re still dressed, just as you are now, collar and all, and your pants are around your knees, and you’re thrusting hard and proper. You’re murmuring in my ear, about how I’m good or how I’m dirty, but how I’m yours. And I am. Can’t deny it. Can’t stop thrusting back into you like a cat in heat. And then you let out this moan—”

The sound wrenched from Liam’s throat caught them both by surprise, and his eyes rolled back as he bucked in his seat and came, imagining a lithe body moving under him, sticky and warm in his pants. A moment later there was a choked cry.

Then silence.

Liam didn’t move when he heard the rustle of fabric or the hush of feet on carpet…refusing to open his eyes until the soft click of a door told him he was alone once again.

There were spots of white on his black shirt. And he had no idea what in the hell he was going to do.

He dropped his head into shaking hands.