Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

1 Corinthians 6:9-10

Or do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice homosexuality, nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God.

♱

Hyunjin drew a weary breath, obviously tired, before he mumbled his accustomed ending script, or rather rite. “Now, pray with me. Our Father who art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven…”

After finishing the typical prayer and Hail Mary twice spoken, the person who had been confessing for the span of twenty minutes had left the booth. The confession was a boring one, dull with very vague words that the parishioner chose. Yet Hyunjin couldn’t be any happier, for by reason of their vagueness, he too was permitted to answer in like manner. For today, he just needed everything done, with bare minimum.

That’s the thing that people didn’t understand. Priests were humans too. Sometimes, he just wanted to get over things with, without exceeding too much effort. There were days like that. But of course, Hyunjin had been the overly achiever priest of their small town. He’d been pursuing excellence more than anything. But today, for some odd reason, he felt a little… lethargic.

But before Hyunjin could go out that confession booth, someone suddenly barged inside the confessor’s door.

“Hi Father Hwang, I know your schedule here is only until seven and it’s already a minute past it but…” he huffed, sounding like he was chased by a wolf. “…can we just talk for like five minutes. Promise, it’s gonna be fast. I’m not a catholic, well my mom is… and she’s always attending the Sunday service in Seoul. Anyway, uhm—but i just need a sign. Or some kind of reading.”

It caught Hyunjin off guard.

Verily, the voice was surprisingly too low. Too good. Too sultry. There was something about his voice, even if it was deeper than the normal men’s octave, it sounded pleasurable to the ears. A kind of voice that goes under the skin and gives you chills. A voice that could summon hidden desires. Like something was scratching the back of his ears or depth of his thoughts. It was weirdly arousing. The man sounded like he was born to be a jockey for a radio station. The one listened for midnight masturbation session.

Hyunjin was troubled by his own train of thoughts and sighed. 

He hated how he could't even get a clue with how the other person looked like. He was just a dark shadow, he's probably wearing a blcak hoodie and his face was bowed down. If only he could see his face...

Now, he found himself pondering if that man was taller than him, body built of a bouncer with broad shoulders, huge biceps and a manly face. He wondered if that man was around his age, but despite the deep voice, he sounded with certain youthfulness. Perhaps, twenty five, or even younger still.

Or if that man can beat him if they compete in swimming, given that it’s a sport Hyunjin excel in. He could picture him towering over Hyunjin. He was surely not attracted to those kind of men, but his voice was enough for him to get intrigued.

And the fact that his hangul was a bit off, with a lot of informal, conversational words, the man sounded like he grew from abroad, and had just learned Korean a few years ago. But still, the voice awakened a dangerous curiosity.

To be honest, in his younger years, Hyunjin was into boys with slimmer body and definitely shorter than him. If anything, he was drawn to men with feminine features and delicate hands, delicate legs, and pretty small feet. Yes, that specifically weird fetish. It was exactly the reason why he went to seminary. He genuinely believed that something was wrong with him.

Wrong for liking men who looked like girls. He hated how he never desired women. Not that he abhorred them, he actually saw women as pretty and precious creatures. He adored and respected his mom and sisters, even his girl friends back then. But he never lusted over women. Never wanted to fuck around and make children, nor even marry one. He never felt a boner nor the urge to talk to them past the harmless chitchat.

The interest he had always belonged to those what the modern society had called “femboys.”

With his weird taste, he once confessed when he was in senior high school. He was sobbing hard, feeling like a hopeless fool, lost and stupid. And the priest had recommended him to repent. And with that, he ended going to church on Sundays, until he convinced himself to offer himself to God instead of the earthy sins. His mother actually cried when he told her he wanted to go to seminary. She had always wanted grandchildren. And Hyunjin unfortunately wouldn’t be able to give her one.

“Oh, I fear, this is a confession booth for sinners and not a place for astronomy or signs, my child.” Hyunjin had said, “but I can listen to your confessions or burdens, and perhaps offer guidance on how they may be faced. You may return next Sunday, or we may arrange a meeting on a weekday, at such hour when I'm off duty.”

“Ahh—sorry, Father Hwang. I'm kinda nervous, you're so handso—I mean, it's my first time being in a confined space and talking to a wall. Or this, screen. So I can’t see you. Uhm—I will just come back after mass next week, really sorry for wasting your time.” The man stumbled with his words clumsily and left the booth completely.

After some thought, he tried to chase the person he had conversed earlier. But he was already gone. "I should've seen his face..."

The whole week, the voice stayed in his head. 

“Beloved brethren,” he began. “In today’s reading, we are reminded of the words written in 1 Corinthians 6:9-10... that those who persist in unrighteousness shall not inherit the kingdom of God. Many tremble at these verses, for they are spoken plainly, without ornament, as though Saint Paul himself sought to awaken those grown comfortable in their transgressions.”

The chapel was hushed in that sacred hour between late afternoon and evening, when golden light streamed through the stained glass and painted the pews in trembling colors.

Hyunjin stood at the ambo, fingers resting lightly against the worn wood, his composure was calm but inwardly restless. Behind him, the faint scent of melting wax lingered as Jeongin moved quietly to tend the altar. He was lighting the final candle with careful hands.

He paused briefly, allowing the quiet murmur of shifting clothes and soft coughs to settle.

“These words are not given that we may condemn one another,” Hyunjin continued, tone gentler now, “but that we may look inward with honesty. For oftentimes, sin does not arrive as a storm that rends the earth, but rather as a whisper that persuades the heart little by little.”

At the front pew, a girl sat alone, her hair pale as morning wheat catching the fractured light from the stained glass above. The strands gleamed almost ethereal. She was wearing a shiny and expensive outfit that didn’t belong to the usual patrons. She’s in what he assumed was Louis Vuitton patterned turtle neck, sleeveless top, a sight that he could only see with people with too much money to spend. Not that people with money didn’t go to his parish, it was just that, wealthy people in his area seemed to dress down to match his humble chapel.

He had not seen her before.

The girl was shifting every now and then, tucking her hair behind her ear every five minutes. She looks uncomfortable, somehow. Looking around once in a while, bringing her thumb to bite her nail.

She looked so lost and Hyunjin hated how he wanted to ask her some questions, out of curiosity, of course. If she’s new to their small town, if she’s just a tourist, or what he could do to her to ease her anxiety… in the most spiritual way.

She was probably in her teens or early twenties. But he was sure that she’s not less than eighteen, at least. Not that he cared about ages. (He just wanted to make sure she’s legal, which was not the point of it all, totally). But her beauty was something one cannot ignore. She stood out more than she might have realized. More like a celebrity face card in a very ordinary setting. She’s too glamorous to be glimmering in a very holy, peaceful and solemn place.

So pretty... Am I bisexual now? Am I half-healed?

As he always knew, he was never attracted to women. Well, he already forgot that because after seminary, he never saw women nor men... people in general, and feel carnal desire. For him, they’re all lambs and he’s a shepherd that needed to guide them. He believed that God chose him to serve people and to lead them to the right way, for their eternal lives to dance in heaven, instead of the pit’s fire of hell.

But this girl was giving him all the confusion he buried years ago. That he wasn’t only capable of being attracted to men, but also to women. He didn’t have the audacity to admit that this woman was really, really overflowing with sexual appeal, hence he felt a slight erection because of her. That was just him, being human. Feeling human emotions. His body reacting in most human way. Nothing else.

He must’ve been relieved, if ever. For it was a confirmation that he’s somehow partially healed. That for the first time, he felt like a normal man. Attracted to a woman and not to his own. A small part of him felt victorious, that the devil had lost his power over him. And felt happy that maybe, his homophobic father was now smiling from the other side of the heaven, if he somehow made it there.

Hyunjin’s gaze lingered a moment too long. There was something unfamiliar in her presence, as though she belonged to another story entirely, one not often written within these chapel walls. 

Hyunjin cleared his throat lightly, steadying himself before continuing.

“For the apostle spoke not merely of outward deeds, but of the condition of the heart,” he said. “For pride may dwell within virtue, and vanity may hide behind good works. It is easy to believe oneself righteous when measured beside another man’s failing.”

Behind him, Jeongin stepped quietly across the marble floor, adjusting the brass holder of the sanctuary candle so that its flame burned straight. 

Hyunjin allowed his gaze to sweep across the congregation, though he found it returning, against better judgment, back to the girl with the golden hair. The faint crackle of candle wicks sounded behind him, and Jeongin folded his hands respectfully once more near the altar.

“To inherit the kingdom of God,” Hyunjin said, “is not to claim perfection, but to pursue holiness with humility. We stumble, we falter, yet still we are called to rise again.”

As he spoke, the girl finally lifted her head. For a fleeting instant, their eyes met. Hyunjin faltered only for the briefest moment, a pause so slight it passed unnoticed by most, before continuing the homily with grace. 

The homily concluded and the chapel seemed to breathe as one body. The last echo of Hyunjin’s voice dissolved into the quiet hush of devotion. Jeongin stepped forward. The bells chimed softly as the Liturgy of the Eucharist began.

Hyunjin washed his hands in the small basin prepared beside the altar, murmuring the prayer, that he might be made worthy to stand before the mystery set upon the holy table. The bread and wine were lifted and offered.

“And He took bread…” Hyunjin spoke, “…and when He had given thanks, He broke it, saying... this is My body, which is given for you.”

The chapel fell deeper into silence. Jeongin knelt faithfully at the side, ringing the small bell thrice as the sacramental bread was elevated.

When the time for communion came, the people stood from their pews one by one, forming a line that curved down the center aisle. Heads bowed, hands folded, they approached with solemn hearts. Hyunjin stood before them. “The Body of Christ,” he said to each communicant.

“Amen,” they answered in turn, receiving the sacramental bread (ostia) with quiet devotion.

An elderly woman approached first, her hands trembling slightly as she received the bread. Then a father with a child beside him, guiding the small hands to fold properly. A young man followed, eyes cast downward, as though burdened by unseen thoughts.

Then came the girl with the pale blonde hair. He was waiting for her to say what people usually say to receive the white ostia as symbol that the person was willingly repenting their sins and accepting the body of Christ. She must’ve said “amen.” But she just bowed her head and offered her hand awkwardly. For at least two seconds, their eyes locked.

Hyunjin felt like those two seconds were two minutes as he completely devoured the girl’s face with his own eyes.

Up close, the color seemed almost unreal beneath the candlelight, soft strands resting against her shoulders like threads of spun gold. He unwillingly catalogued her features. She was pretty from afar and even more breathtaking closer. It surprised him that she has freckles that were too dense spread on his pinkish cheeks. Because afar, he didn’t even notice those. And for the first time, he was mesmerized with those freckles, that he never found appealing before. Her eyes were round, sleepy, lashes curled slightly.

She looked more like a cat than a lamb.

And when she took the body of Christ with her small hand, she opened her mouth, put her tongue out and stuck the ostia there. All while here eyes looked like begging for Hyunjin, he didn't know what she was begging for tho. Grace? Forgiveness? Money? Kindness? Cock?

Heaven knew how long he held his breath as he watched her sticking her tongue like that with half lidded eyes. What a fucking slut. I could shove my dick in that mouth with her tongue sticking out like that. Hyunjin swallowed hard, definitely felt like the hell was suddenly waiting for him. God, help me.

She had smiled softly, too soft that he felt like the angels painted in the walls of the chapel began singing. Hyunjin blinked twice, heart pumping blood too aggressively. She swallowed the ostia immediately after and turned around.

And Hyunjin suddenly froze, knotted his brows, Am I mistaken? Was that an Adam’s apple?

He ignored that briefly as the line continued, devotion moving in steady rhythm until the final parishioner returned to their pew. Hyunjin placed the remaining ostia within the tabernacle, bowing his head briefly before closing its small golden door.

The concluding rites followed as they always had. “The Lord be with you,” he proclaimed.

“And with your spirit,” the congregation answered.

“May Almighty God bless you, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”

“Amen.”

“Go forth, the Mass is ended.”

“Thanks be to God.”

The final hymn rose softly from the pews, voices blending imperfectly. Jeongin extinguished the altar candles one by one. Parishioners began to leave in quiet murmurs, footsteps softened by the worn stone floor.

Hyunjin remained near the altar, offering a final bow before stepping down to greet those who waited patiently near the front. It had become a custom in this small parish in the province of Jeju, some people would approach him after Mass, exchanging a few words, sometimes seeking counsel, sometimes simply wishing to express their welcome once more.

“Father Hwang,” an elderly woman called warmly, her face creased with kindness that spoke of many years spent in prayer.

Hyunjin smiled gently, inclining his head in greeting. He recognized her well, she always sat by the second pew on the left, rosary wrapped twice around her fragile fingers.

“The homily today was very comforting,” she said, clasping his hands briefly. “We are blessed that you have come to our town.”

“You are too kind,” Hyunjin replied softly. “The blessing belongs to all of us who gather in faith.”

Soon others gathered near, their voices overlapping in polite enthusiasm. A bent old man with a walking cane thanked him for visiting his sick wife the previous week. Another parishioner spoke of how lively the chapel had felt since Hyunjin’s arrival. Some simply bowed respectfully, their expressions warm with quiet approval.

Though he had only been assigned to this humble town for three months, the people had already grown familiar with him, and he, in turn, had begun to recognize their faces with ease. The elderly couple who always arrived early to light candles. The widow who brought fresh flowers every Sunday. The fisherman who sat at the very back yet never failed to attend.

Names, however, were another matter entirely. He remembered stories, illnesses, favorite saints, even the particular way some clasped their hands when praying, yet names would sometimes slip away from him at the most inconvenient moments.

“Father, Father!” another voice called cheerfully.

Hyunjin turned to see Mr. Kang, a stout man with a sun-worn complexion, waving energetically as though greeting an old friend. “Will you bless our new boat next week?” he asked eagerly.

“Of course,” Hyunjin answered with a small nod. “It would be my honor.”

The warmth of their welcome still surprised him at times. Small towns often guarded their traditions carefully, wary of change. Yet here, in this quiet corner of Jeju, they had received him with an openness that humbled him more than he expected.

As the last few parishioners slowly departed, Jeongin began tidying the altar behind him, carefully folding the linen cloth and extinguishing the final candle.

Just as Hyunjin stepped toward the sacristy, his phone vibrated softly in his pocket. The name displayed upon the screen caused him to straighten instinctively.

Bishop Lee Minho

Hyunjin accepted the call with quiet respect. “Your Excellency,” he greeted.

“Hyunjin,” came the calm voice on the other end. “I trust your assignment in Jeju has been… fruitful.”

“Yes, Bishop,” Hyunjin replied. “The parishioners have been most welcoming. I am still learning their ways, but they have shown me much kindness.”

“I am pleased to hear it,” Minho said. “You will need to travel to Seoul next week. There are documents that require your report in person. Nothing troublesome. You know, merely the formalities expected of a newly assigned priest.”

“I understand,” Hyunjin answered.

There was a brief pause before the bishop spoke again. “It has been some time since I last visited Jeju. I believe I shall come see the parish myself soon.”

“You would be most welcome here,” Hyunjin said politely.

“Continue your good work,” Minho concluded. “I will inform you of the exact date.”

“God damn it…” Out of nowhere, the pretty girl’s face with her tongue sticking out, tormented his mind as he shook his head. He needed to focus.

The narrow space of the confession booth was dim, illuminated only by the faint glow of filtered light that slipped through the carved lattice between priest and confessor. The air smelled faintly of old wood and candle wax.

After dismissing the pretty face, his brain decided to focus on his another hyper fixation. Now, he was weirdly hoping to hear that voice again. The deep one that sounded foreign. Maybe he was curious if he’s a foreigner. Maybe that’s the only logical reason why he wanted to hear him again. Just to confirm his hunch that he’s not born Korean.

Hyunjin adjusted the edge of his stool. He had expected the usual murmured confessions... small resentments, careless words, forgotten prayers. And when he already gave up hoping, the person who just sat in the booth spoke. “Hi Father Hwang, it’s me again. You might not remember me but I was here last Sunday too.”

“Yes, I remember you, my child.” He looked side ways, trying to take a peek at the confessor. But the person was wearing a black hoodie again. Face down.

“I already prepared the things I wanna say…” he said, with a voice that was born from smiling, like a proud puppy who finally gathered its thoughts. “So… hmmm… first of all, I'm so sorry for all the terms I wrongfully used. I said I want signs, but I read about Christianity and this confession shit—oh… Ahh, oops—sorry. I mean, confession. This confession session..." He deeply sighed. "Actually I moved here in Jeju just two weeks ago, I’m from Australia, sorry, and grew with people who curses a lot, I mean not my family because they’re so religious. As in, super, duper religious. They're insane. Oh, I mean, they're devoted, not insane—insane. The one who curses a lot is my bestfriend—so yeah. I’m so sorry. I said so many unnecessary stuff.”

So I’m right. He’s a foreigner and just moved here. But his mom is in Seoul. Interesting. Hyunjin thought.

“Anyway, sorry again for all the blabber. Okay... So I will get straight to the point. Father, will I be saved if I stop liking men? And will heaven accept me again if I repent?”

The words lingered in the small space between them. Hyunjin felt like he was washed with cold-iced water. It was the exact question he asked when he was seventeen.

Hyunjin kept his expression composed, though his thoughts moved swiftly beneath the surface. He had spoken on discipline only hours before, on resisting the quiet temptations that crept into the heart. Yet hearing the confession spoken so plainly unsettled something within him.

“Temptation visits many,” Hyunjin replied, choosing his tone with care. “The heart is easily led astray when one walked without vigilance. Yet no soul is beyond the grace of God.”

The man gave a small, uncertain hum. “I have tried to ignore it, promise.” he continued, voice lower now. “But it does not… disappear. It got worst. And my mom found out. She said, I need help from you. I mean, not exactly you, Father Hwang, that I specifically targeted you. No, not that. I mean, the church. My mom cut my allowance off and said I should get help from the church. Yeah—the church. But not for allowance. I have a job now. I mean, help. You know, spiritually or something.”

Hyunjin leaned slightly closer to the screen, his voice firm. “The Lord does not abandon those who seek righteousness,” he said. “Desires may trouble the spirit, yet they need not define thy path. With repentance and devotion, the heart may yet be guided back to its rightful course.”

“Okay, I don't get much of what you've said because you sound too formal and kinda old, yeah? But... what I'm saying is I do not wish to live wrongly. That's what my mom implied,” the man said. “I only… do not fucking know what to do. Oh, sorry for that word. I mean... So please, if you could help me stop being gay...”

Hyunjin clasped his hands together. “There is healing in obedience,” he answered gently. “Attend the Mass faithfully. Seek discipline in prayer. Speak with me, and I shall guide you as best I am able. Such inclinations need not bind you forever. We can have this regular confession, or we can have counselling. For you to get over your lust over men.”

Another pause followed, it was longer this time. Hyunjin could almost sense the uncertainty on the other side of the screen. “You are not condemned, my poor lamb,” Hyunjin added, voice quieter now. “If you repent sincerely, salvation remains within reach. Many have overcome burdens heavier than this.” Hyunjin made sure that his words sounded reassuring.

He didn't understand himself, but he wanted to hear him again. Those broken Hangul, the occasional cursing, the informal tone... I want to hear that voice moan nothing but my name.

Oh, God. No. Stop.

“I see,” the man replied slowly. 

Hyunjin exhaled softly, then continued. “Please return next week,” he said. “We shall speak again. Guidance requires patience, and the soul is strengthened through constancy.” The person did not answer immediately. For a fleeting moment, Hyunjin wondered whether he had said things too strongly. "Or if you do not have the time to wait, tomorrow, I could clear my schedule—"

“I can't during weekdays. Is next Sunday okay? Like same time?”

“Yes,” Hyunjin said. “Attend the Mass. We shall continue this conversation. I will help you find clarity.”

Another quiet shift came from the other side. “…okay. I will be here again next week, Father Hwang,” the man said at last.

“Go in peace,” Hyunjin murmured. “Pray with sincerity, and trust that the Lord restores what is troubled.”

As the booth door opened and soft footsteps retreated, Hyunjin remained seated for a moment. The voice lingered in his mind. His fingers slowly rose to his chest, pressing against the steady rhythm beneath his ribs. His heart beat harder than and he couldn't understand why. For a long while, he said nothing.

He took a deep breath, but it did little to steady him. It had been his struggle too.

Long before the collar, before the vows, before the quiet town of Jeju ever knew his name, Hyunjin had wrestled with thoughts he dared not speak aloud. The only person he had said that he was into men was to that priest he once confessed to. And hearing it again from another mouth seemed like he was taken back more than a decade ago.

In his thirty five years of existence, the priesthood had seemed like a sanctuary from himself. Some battles, he believed, were meant to remain silent offerings.

And now, seated in the very booth where others entrusted him with their hidden burdens, another man (who he found the voice attractive) had come seeking guidance for loving men as well. And Hyunjin had spoken with conviction he was not entirely certain he possessed.

Why do I feel like this again? Why am I getting horny over a voice? He asked himself.

Funny thing was, it's even more complicated now. He was attracted to a man's voice when he had not even seen the man’s face. And yet, he had urged him to return. Like a fucker who got turned on by mere voice. Then there was the girl earlier. The brief meeting of eyes during communion had left an impression he could not fully explain. She too had unsettled the careful order he had built within himself.

This was not how discipline was meant to feel. It was confusing (absurd, even) that within the span of a single day he found himself distracted by both a man he had never seen and a woman whose name he did not know.

Very wrong. Deeply inappropriate. But… At least now, I am capable of noticing a woman.

The thought was ridiculous enough that a strained sound escaped him, something between a sigh and a quiet groan of frustration. “Lord, forgive me, for making me want to do dirty things to that man and that girl...” he murmured under his breath. 

It was already eleven in the evening when Hyunjin blew the candle by his small bedside altar. The rosary still rested between his fingers.

This had become his habit since arriving in the quiet province of Jeju, to end each day with the full rosary, whispered slowly beneath dim light, as though repetition alone could discipline the heart into obedience. Tonight, however, the rhythm of prayer had not granted him peace.

When he finally lay upon the modest bed provided within the parish residence, his body felt heavy with fatigue, yet sleep would not come.

Instead, the image returned. The beautiful girl.

Her beauty had struck him with unsettling force. Almost ethereal, as though she had stepped briefly from another world before choosing to seat in his homily.

He remembered how her hair had been pale beyond the ordinary shade of blonde, nearer to silver caught in winter light. How the light rested upon the curve of her cheek. Her skin had seemed almost translucent beneath the chapel’s quiet radiance with scattered constellation of freckles. Her lips had been soft in shape, neither smiling nor frowning, existing in that ambiguous stillness that invited curiosity. Even her eyes had held a peculiar softness when they finally met his.

"She's so beautiful. Undeniably so, but..."

Hyunjin turned slightly upon the mattress, staring toward the small altar where the statue of Saint Vincent Ferrer stood beside the crucifix, both figures silent witnesses to his restless thoughts.

There had been a moment. It was brief and perhaps imagined. When she lifted her chin slightly to receive the sacramental bread upon her tongue, the line of her throat had revealed something. In that angle, the turtle neck slid down a little and there was a subtle prominence beneath pale skin. An Adam’s apple.

Hyunjin pressed his fingers against his temples, exhaling slowly.

“She is a man… is she not?” he murmured softly. He could not be certain. The image remained frustratingly unclear. It was not obvious enough to confirm. However, it was too distinct to dismiss entirely as illusion. His chest tightened with unease.

“If that person is a boy, then I am not really healed,” he whispered, the admission tasting bitter upon his tongue. “I am drawn still… toward men. A pretty boy, specifically.”

His gaze lifted toward the crucifix, seeking something steady to anchor the restless tide within him. “Lord,” he breathed, quieter now, “deliver me from desires that cloud the purpose entrusted unto me. I wish only to serve worthily the calling you has permitted me to bear.”

He groaned softly, pressing the rosary once more against his chest as though its cool beads might calm the fevered disarray of his mind. “I should not wish to see him again. That person I thought was a woman,” Hyunjin whispered, correcting himself hastily, “nor anticipate the next homily with such… selfish expectation.”

Hyunjin had never been this confused his entire life.

"I'm definitely not healed, for having such lewd thoughts recently. God, please free me from homosexuality. I want to be deserving to lead your children." 

He prayed harder for guidance, for the stop of being greedy, for wanting to see that pretty face next homily, for wanting to see him stuck his tongue out again in front of him to receive the body of Christ, for wanting that same tongue to lick the base up to the crown of his dick, for wanting him to suck Hyunjin's balls, for wanting him to beg and cry hard while Hyunjin mouth fucked him merciless—

“Hail, Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners...”

The night had deepened when he finished the prayer as a sudden knock broke the silence. Another knock followed, firmer this time. He stood from his bed, the wooden floor faintly creaking beneath steps. The knock came again, echoing lightly against the narrow hallway walls.

“Coming,” he called, though no reply came.

When Hyunjin opened the door, he found the girl (or rather, the boy who looked so convincingly like one), standing beneath the weak glow of the lone lamppost. The dim light softened every edge of his face, yet could not hide how striking he was. His features were delicate, almost unreal, pale hair stirred gently by the night breeze. His eyes were wide, luminous even in the dark, reflecting something mesmerizing that made Hyunjin’s breath falter.

So beautiful, even in silence.

Hyunjin slightly frowned when he saw this boy wearing completely different clothes. He was in skimpy black tight dress, concealing only down to his ass. His bare toned legs, smooth and milky white, shivered slightly due to the cold air (which he wanted to part them open wide). The dress completely hugged his small frame, dipping narrower along the curve of his waist. Oh, fuck. He wanted to bend him over, there and then.

“Yes,” Hyunjin said gently, steadying his voice. “How may I help you, my child?”

The smaller figure did not answer.

Those eyes only looked at him... searching, almost pleading, as though words failed him at the very moment he needed them most. His lips trembled faintly, parting without sound, and then a single tear slipped down his cheek, glistening briefly before disappearing down his face.

And Hyunjin was a monster for loving every inch of the view. Of how fragile the boy looked, with his chin lifted up just to meet his gaze. He looked too vulnerable, that those pretty lonely expression of his face was perfect for a cum shot. Instinctively, he reached forward, intending to wipe the tear away.

The priest lowered his face, closing the gap between them, with his hand slowly landing on the damp cheek. Their breaths mingled for less than a second, as Hyunjin felt his whole body tingled when he got to smell the boy up close. Vodka and cherry. But the boy startled, pushing lightly against his chest before turning away. Afterwards, he ran.

A small piece of paper slipped from the boy as it landed on the ground. Hyunjin bent to pick it up.

010-0320-0915

Father Hwang, please call me. 

>>>>>

Chapter Text

Leviticus 18:22

You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination.

♱

Hyunjin stared at the small paper for a long while when he sat back on his bed. It was already past midnight. Even if the note had clearly urged him to call, it felt improper at such late hour. Groaning, he placed the paper carefully inside the pages of his book. 

Hyunjin lay stiffly on the bed, trying to process what happened. He was staring at the plain ceiling as if the cracks in the paint might give him answers. The room was quiet. He clasped his hands over his chest, fingers pressing lightly against the steady rhythm of his heart, hoping he could calm it.

His thoughts would not quiet.

He had tried to focus on the liturgy. But the image of the blond parishioner lingered far too vividly in his mind. That face, delicate, almost unreal, standing out in the crowd of the church. And had looked even more surreal in front of his door with the dim light. His face was haunting him. And his thoughts had never been pure since he laid his eyes on that pretty face. I want to really fuck his face. 

Worse, there was another concern. The voice in the confession booth still echoed in memory. The same voice he had waited for. The same voice he should not be waiting for.

Fuck, why am I lusting over two different persons?

Shame settled heavily in his heart. He was a priest. A servant of God. He was meant to guide souls away from temptation, not wrestle helplessly with his own. Yet now, he found himself drawn toward two parishioners whose presence stirred thoughts he immediately wished to erase.

"I should not be attracted to anyone. Not to a beautiful face, nor to a sultry voice." He turned slightly on the bed, pressing the heel of his palm against his eyes as frustration tightened his throat.

How could he stand at the altar and preach restraint when his own heart felt divided? How could he speak of purity while entertaining images he immediately begged forgiveness for? How could he face the Lord's people when he had nothing going on in his head but to mouth fuck that pretty boy and to make the man in the booth moan? When all he could think was the nasty things he could do earlier, that for the brief moment, he wanted to shower the boy’s face with his cum, or even slap his hard cock on those sweet lips?

The conflict exhausted him. The cognitive dissonance was eating him alive.

“I am weak,” he whispered quietly into the stillness.

Sliding from the bed, he knelt beside it, folding his hands tightly together. His head bowed low, shoulders tense. He prayed for guidance. For clarity. For strength to silence whatever part of him still reached for things he had long ago surrendered. And above all, he prayed that these feelings (confusing, persistent, and fucking dangerously human) would fade before they led him somewhere he could not return from.

The next day arrived with sunlight slipping through the small kitchen window of the parish residence. Hyunjin stood beside the counter, a brewed coffee warming his hands. He stared at the nothingness and mumbled, "I should forget about the two of you. No matter how pretty you are nor how sexy your voice is, I should restrain myself from getting feral."

The familiar sound of the back door opening announced the arrival of two figures he had quickly learned were as much a part of the parish.

Mrs. Kwon Sandara entered first, carrying a woven basket filled with fresh vegetables harvested from her small garden. Behind her followed Ms. Lee Chaerin, carefully balancing a neat stack of books against her chest. Both were pushing sixty.

The two women had long been assigned to the assist the town’s priest, working faithfully alongside Mr. Choi Seunghyun, who was currently away visiting family in Busan. Their devotion to the parish stretched back decades. That seemed to welcome Hyunjin even as he struggled to grow accustomed to such hospitality.

“Father,” Dara greeted warmly, already making her way toward the refrigerator. “Are you going for your morning run today, or will you ride your bicycle again?”

Hyunjin gave a small smile. “Hmmm... I may go for a swim in the community pool this morning.”

“You're the most active priest I have seen assigned here,” Dara remarked approvingly as she began placing the freshly harvested vegetables neatly inside the refrigerator compartments.

"It's because I was a triathlete when I was young. My body is just used to moving every morning. Also, I can put them away, there is no need to trouble yourself, Dara-ssi,” Hyunjin said politely, stepping forward slightly.

“It’s fine,” Dara replied. “I've been tending to the needs of the priests here for more than twenty years already. It would feel weird to stop now.”

Meanwhile, Chaerin set the books carefully upon the table. “Father,” she said, adjusting her glasses, “I gathered some of these for donation. Many are still in good condition.”

“Thank you, Chaerin-ssi,” Hyunjin said, stepping closer to help arrange the small pile. “These will be very helpful for the parish reading room.”

As he handled the books, his thoughts drifted briefly and uninvited, toward the pretty boy with blond hair, toward trembling lips and silent tears, toward the boy whose appearance refused to leave his mind. He cleared his throat softly.

“Ah… Chaerin-ssi,” he began cautiously, feigning casual curiosity. “You have lived in this town a long time, yes? You must know most families here.”

“That is true,” Chaerin answered pleasantly. “It is difficult not to know one another in a place this small.”

Hyunjin hesitated as he took a deep breath. Do you happen to know a young man who looks like a girl? With blonde hair? The pretty one with freckles? I saw him once and he gave me his number last night. That's a boy right? Not a girl? Please tell me that person is a girl.

The questions gathered too quickly in his mind, each sounding more improper than the last. He clamped his lips. Then stopped himself entirely. It would sound strange. Suspicious, even.

Instead, he shifted the conversation. “With the upcoming election,” he said lightly, “it seems the town may get busier in the coming months.”

Chaerin nodded thoughtfully, immediately engaging in the safer topic, unaware of the question Hyunjin had chosen not to ask.

The community pool was quiet early in the morning. Though the season had begun its change from summer into early autumn, the facility remained largely empty during weekdays.

Most of the town’s children and young adults used the pool only on weekends for school training. On weekdays, however, it was rarely used. In which Hyunjin had come to appreciate and use it for himself instead.

The water was cool against his skin. Swimming had always been a refuge for him. A sport that demanded focus, a movement that left little room for distraction. Each lap was necessary for his body to get off any nasty thoughts. Yet even the water could not fully quiet his head thinking about how he wanted someone to deep-throat him.

After several laps, Hyunjin pulled himself from the pool, droplets sliding from his hair and tracing quiet paths along his shoulders. He sat at the pool’s edge, feet still submerged, letting his breathing slow as sunlight shimmered across the surface.

Reaching for his phone, he hesitated only briefly before opening his contacts. He didn't know the boy's name. So he just went with "PB." It meant Pretty Blond.

After a slight hesitation, he pressed the call button. The line rang only once before redirecting him to voicemail. Hyunjin frowned faintly, lowering the phone slightly as the automated voice began its message. He ended the call before the tone.

"Why did you even give your number if you’re only be unreachable? Had the visit last night been an impulse and you regret it now?"

Hyunjin leaned back slightly, resting his palms against the cold tiles behind him. His thoughts returned once more to those eyes that had seemed almost desperate to say something yet unable to form the words. And when his brain was about to throw another lewd image…

The phone vibrated suddenly in his hand, startling him from reflection. There was an ncoming call.

Mr. Choi Seunghyun

Hyunjin accepted the call, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Father,” Seunghyun greeted, voice carrying the faint background noise of traffic. “I hope I am not disturbing your morning.”

“Not at all, is everything well?”

“Yes, yes,” Seunghyun answered. “I'm only informing you that the family of the Mayor requests your visit. They have recently completed the construction of a new house and want a formal blessing.”

“Alright. When would they like the visit?”

“Next Monday, if possible,” Seunghyun replied. “It seems important to them. The mayor’s relatives hold considerable influence in the region, and they specifically asked for you.”

“I understand,” Hyunjin answered.

For the whole week, Hyunjin had focused on his tasks. Blessing the boat, blessing the newly opened cafe, giving prayers for the sick, and solemnizing a wedding (which only happens every other month). Every morning, he mostly swam and rode the bike. Most often than not, he had somewhat shifted his mind to more important things than his carnal desires.

Sunday arrived. He was staring at the man in the mirror. Eyes burning with hunger, in denial, but he knew he was craving for flesh. Like a wolf craving for a deer. He hated days like this. He shook his head as he sprayed his perfume, Lime Basil & Mandarin, on his wrist, his neck and his pants.

"Why am I spraying my pants with perfume?" Hyunjin scoffed. He wasn't even sure why he was making sure he smelled good today.

Then, the chapel once more filled with the gentle murmur of people greeting one another before mass began. Hyunjin stood at the sacristy mirror briefly, adjusting the fall of his vest before stepping toward the altar. He tried to look as nonchalant as possible. Jeongin followed attentively, hands steady as he carried the processional candle. 

The entrance hymn rose softly as Hyunjin made the sign of the cross. “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

“Amen,” the congregation responded.

“The Lord be with you.”

“And with your spirit.”

The Liturgy of the Word proceeded in solemn order. When it came time for the homily, Hyunjin ascended the ambo once more, resting his hands lightly upon its surface as his gaze moved across the gathered faithful. He shook his head for the possible temptation from the evil.

“In the book of Leviticus, chapter 18, verse 22,” Hyunjin began, “These commandments were given to preserve order among the faithful, that the people might remain distinct from practices that would lead them astray. The verse spoke plainly regarding relations that fall outside the design believed to reflect divine intention.”

His eyes lifted subtly, scanning the pews almost unconsciously. The first row, then the second, and the third. Near the aisle. There was no pale hair caught the light today.

Stop it, Hyunjin. Stop looking for that blond boy.

He continued. “Yet it is important to understand that scripture does not exist merely as condemnation. Rather, it serves as guidance. A call toward discipline, toward reflection, toward the shaping of one’s life in accordance with what is believed to be holy.”

His gaze shifted again, almost involuntarily searching. I miss you. Where are you? I want to see your pretty face, please. Nothing. Only the familiar parishioners who attended faithfully each week.

“The Lord spoke not only of law,” Hyunjin went on, voice softening slightly, “but of covenant. To follow divine teaching is not simply to avoid wrongdoing, but to pursue a life ordered with purpose, humility, and devotion. Each of us wrestled with desires that do not always lead us toward peace. Yet the path of righteousness is not walked alone. Grace remained present for those who seek it sincerely.”

Jeongin knelt nearby, attentive as always, adjusting the missal at the appropriate moment.

Hyunjin concluded the homily and the mass continued. The offertory hymn rose softly as parishioners brought forward bread and wine. The bells chimed gently. One by one, the people approached the altar for communion.

“The Body of Christ,” Hyunjin said steadily to each person.

“Amen.”

Faces familiar passed before him, the elderly widow, the fisherman, the young mother with child. But not the one he found himself unconsciously expecting.

When the final blessing was given and the congregation slowly dispersed, Hyunjin remained briefly at the altar, gaze drifting once more toward the pew where blond hair had once appeared. 

I need to see you again, please. Lord, just once. And I shall end my selfish desires. Please let me see him once more. 

"Thank you Father," the old woman left with a light heart.

The confession booth was once again dim and hushed. Hyunjin adjusted his watch and it's already 6:30. He had not seen the pretty boy and for the very least, he wanted to hear that voice.

He thought he was going insane. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. He wondered, briefly, whether he should call the number later that evening. 

The quiet creak of the booth door interrupted his thoughts. A person settled on the other side of the partition. “Father Hwang… Hi, it’s me again,” came the deep voice. It was low, smooth and sexy. He’s here.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to attend your mass earlier,” the young man continued casually. “I took a nap in the afternoon… and, uh… completely forgot the time. I'm really, really sorry.” The vowels were softer, shaped slightly differently.

“It is alright, my child,” Hyunjin replied, maintaining gentle composure.

"Father Hwang, can you stop calling me 'my child'? I mean, I know it's what this church wants. That a priest to call their people like that, child or whatever. But it's kinda giving..." the other person prolonged the word "giving" and was making a circle gesture in front of him, like forming a ball of vagueness.

Hyunjin had noticed the movement from the other side. "Giving?"

"Giving… like you father-son-zoned me?"

That earned a soft chuckle, making his eyes arch like crescent moon, face glowing in pink hue. Hyunjin had to cover his mouth to suppress his laughter and soon cleared his throat. "Apologies for laughing. Well, confessions are meant to be anonymous. But since I don't have any idea of your identity, asking your name might not be breaking any rules. May I know your name, my child? That I may address you properly.”

A brief pause followed. “Uhmm… Lee Felix,” the man answered. “You can just call me Felix, Father.”

“Felix,” Hyunjin repeated thoughtfully as he smiled, wider than he intended. “Your name sounds foreign, my child.”

“Told you to call me just Felix, Father. But yeah,” Felix gave a small, sheepish chuckle. “My Korean name is Lee Felix Yongbok… but I mostly use Lee Felix. It’s easier. People abroad call me that.”

“I understand,” Hyunjin said calmly. “Very well, Felix. Tell me, how has you spent your week? I trust you had begun to pray, even within the quiet of your own room, my child.”

“Ughhh, there you go again with 'my child'—okay. Well… yeah,” Felix answered. “I did pray. I mean, I tried. I also looked up a lot of stuff about Christianity… and Catholicism. There’s actually a lot of rules. It’s kinda intense, not gonna lie… but also pretty interesting.”

Hyunjin tilted his head slightly, unseen behind the lattice. “Faith required discipline. Understanding often begin with curiosity.” He hesitated briefly before continuing. “In today’s reading, we reflected upon Leviticus, chapter 18, verse 22. The scripture spoke plainly regarding relations between men, declaring such acts contrary to divine design. It is written to guide the faithful toward what is believed to preserve spiritual order.”

“I know, I told you I want to stop being gay. But that verse seems like too specific for me.” Felix snorted. “Like… it literally says men shouldn’t… be with men? I get it. But you just sound like my mom.”

“The text is interpreted thus,” Hyunjin replied carefully. “It formed part of the moral teachings upheld by the Church.”

“I know. That’s why I said it's… pretty direct.” Silence lingered briefly before Felix added awkwardly, “I mean… no offense, Father, but… there are a lot of rules in the Old Testament that people don’t really follow now, right? Like… fabrics and food and stuff…”

Hyunjin nodded at the casual observation. “The Church discerned carefully which teachings remain spiritually binding,” he answered with calmly. “Such matters are not approached lightly.” 

For a moment, Hyunjin smirked briefly. So he really read the bible and understood the passages. Such a smart boy for noticing the Old Testament and its implication in the modern world.

Felix hummed softly. “I’m still trying to understand everything,” he admitted. “There’s just… a lot.”

“Understanding comes gradually,” Hyunjin assured him. “The path of faith is not traversed in haste.”

Felix exhaled quietly, the sound almost like he wanted to say something more. Hyunjin remained still behind the wooden partition, fingers resting lightly against his knee as he listened to Felix’s breathing on the other side

“Do you have anything to confess?” Hyunjin asked.

Silence answered him. He could hear Felix shift slightly, fabric brushing softly in the confined space. The hesitation felt heavier.

“You may speak in general terms, Felix,” Hyunjin continued. “You need not reveal more than you are prepared to share.”

A quiet exhale came from the other side. “Father… the thing is,” Felix began, voice lower than before, almost cautious. “I can’t really avoid men. I can't stop being gay.”

Hyunjin straightened slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I work with… men,” Felix said. “To put it simply… I entertain them.”

The word lingered. Hyunjin felt something stir uncomfortably in his thoughts. What the—?

“I know, I know. The bible said, homosexuality is a sin. I tried, okay? But this is the only job I know. I turned twenty last week, that’s international age. So relax, Father… before you call the police. I’m not a kid. Uhmmm—I'm a Veterinary Medicine freshman at Seoul University. But my mom fucking cut me just because of those stupid BL Manhwas.” Felix grunted. “Those are expensive and she burned them! Especially that Painter of the Night and Codename: Anastasia!”

He continued. “So, anyways… yeah—I need a high paying job so I can save and go back to college. And I came here because I was offered with a good salary. I just rented a wrong apartment. Ugh! I’m so—so stupid! I already paid for that god damn six months advance and two months deposit. I thought that apartment is located near my workplace. Turned out it's so damn far... And that work, I thought I’d feel uncomfortable at first,” Felix continued, almost hesitant. “But I didn’t. I actually… like working at the club.

Oh, for fuck sake, you just turned twenty! Felix, you're too young to be working in a club!

“Club?” Hyunjin repeated before he could stop himself. He was not supposed to pry beyond what was freely given. Confession was meant to be a place of voluntary truth, not interrogation. Yet the question had already left his lips. “Where is this establishment located, Felix, my child?”

“Oh… other side of this Jeju island,” Felix answered casually. “That’s why I’m only here on weekends. Weekdays, I stay at work. They offer free lounge.”

"So you live alone here, every weekend?"

"Yes, Father. But the issue is... my mom wanted me to repent but how can I do that? I also asked you last time. But this is my job, what can I do? Right?"

Hyunjin nodded instinctively, though the gesture went unseen. “And what duties do you perform there?” he asked, striving for neutrality. “Are you employed as a server? Perhaps in the kitchen?”

Please don't say you're letting men fuck you. Please stop saying you're entertaining them like a fucking whore. 

There was a faint pause. “No,” Felix replied simply. “I told you… I entertain them, Father. Kinda intense type of entertaining.”

Fuck! My poor little lamb!

Hyunjin’s jaw clenched, his fists into ball of white, though his voice remained calm. “Elaborate,” he said.

On the other side of the partition, Felix shifted again, his movement almost audible through the wooden screen. “I mean, I talk to them,” Felix said slowly. “Sit with them. Make sure they’re having a good time. Sometimes they just want someone to listen. Sometimes they want someone to stay close.”

Hyunjin’s grip tightened slightly against his sleeve. “And you find satisfaction in this occupation?” he asked carefully.

“I didn’t expect to. I cried, you know,” Felix admitted. “But… I don’t know. I feel confident there. People look at me like I’m… finally wanted.”

Fuck, I want to lay my fist on them now. His hands were trembling, his blood was raising. He didn't even know what he was mad for. Why he was so affected with the boy's odd job. 

“I get compliments,” Felix continued lightly, though something uncertain lingered beneath the casual tone. “They like my voice. My accent. The way I look. And the way I dance. They say I'm too pretty for my own good.”

Hyunjin closed his eyes briefly. "The way I look. The way I dance. They say I'm too pretty for my own good." Those words felt like a sword stuck on Hyunjin's chest. He was so uneasy. But the thing was, the most embarrassing fact... was that his pants seemed to suffocate him. 

"You... dance?" What a filthy boy. Did you sway those hips and ass seductively? Did you slowly undress in front of those bastards while biting your lips?

Hyunjin had to close his legs to stop himself from feeling things. For he knew his cock was getting hard with the thought that the person he was talking to, was doing a sexy dance for men. And Felix's young body was sinful enough to enjoy those moments instead of feeling disgusted to himself. 

“I thought I would feel ashamed,” Felix went on. “But I don’t. That’s the problem, right?”

The question hung there, fragile. Hyunjin inhaled slowly. He parted his lips and pressed his shaft, trying to tame himself. Please, stop fucking getting horny now, Hyunjin.

“The danger,” he began carefully, “is not solely in the action itself, but in the attachment it cultivates. When validation is sought primarily through the gaze of others, one may gradually lose sight of intrinsic worth.”

Felix gave a soft hum, unconvinced but listening. That hum gave Hyunjin a shiver. The hair in his arms stood, praising amens with how attractive that hum was.

“Father... They ask me to stay longer sometimes,” Felix said, voice quieter now. “Buy me drinks. Ask personal questions. Some just want to talk… others want something else.”

“What do you mean by something else?” Hyunjin asked, though in truth he already understood that he meant “others want to fuck me.” His voice remained controlled, neutral, betraying none of the sudden tension tightening beneath his ribs. He slowly caressed the bulge forming, making sure that Felix won't hear the friction of his palm and his pants. 

Felix let out a small breath that sounded almost amused. “You know… they can’t touch me without consent, most of the time. Not all, though,” Felix said casually. “Or without paying a very large amount. I’m kind of in the VIP tier. My clients are… big-time. Politicians. Businessmen. Pilots. Doctors.” He paused briefly. “Most of them are married, actually.”

Hyunjin felt his jaw tighten faintly. He did not know why the detail unsettled him more than the confession itself. Something sharp flickered in his chest. Something uncomfortably close to jealousy. These men, strangers of influence and wealth, were permitted to see Felix openly, speak with him freely, observe expressions and gestures Hyunjin could only imagine through a thin carved screen.

Meanwhile, he sat separated by duty and doctrine, confined to a shadowed booth, unable even to place a face to the voice that lingered too easily in his thoughts. He disliked how strongly the realization affected him. He disliked even more that he wished, however briefly, that he could see him.

Why can't I hold you too, Felix? Please, let me hold you... I won't hurt you.

Hyunjin glanced discreetly at his watch. Five minutes before seven. The scheduled hour for confessions was nearing its end.

If Felix remained only a little longer… Perhaps he could step outside first, position himself casually near the chapel entrance, offer a polite farewell. Nothing improper, merely pastoral attentiveness. A simple gesture of courtesy. Or just simply forcedly open his door, see the man he's talking to right now. Kiss him relentlessly. Hold him tight. And most importantly, with all his sinful fiber in his body, fuck him raw. Punish him for being a slut.

Hyunjin felt heat rise faintly at the back of his neck. “You are not obligated to place yourself in situations that encourage confusion of the spirit,” he said, tone firm though controlled.

Felix laughed softly, not mockingly, but not entirely submissive either. “It’s just a job, Father,” he said. “People go to bars all the time.”

“Yes,” Hyunjin replied. “But not all occupations nurture the soul equally.”

Another pause settled between them. Then Felix spoke again, sounding offended. “I still came here though,” he said. “That has to count for something… right?”

Hyunjin’s fingers curled slightly against the wood. “It does,” he answered quietly.

"I have one question tho... Why didn't you call me when I gave you my num—"

However, Hyunjin's phone vibrated sharply as he fished it from his pocket, not hearing Felix entirely. The screen illuminated the dim booth.

Bishop Lee Minho

Hyunjin exhaled quietly. “Felix,” he said, maintaining composure, “I must answer this. My apologies, this matter is important.”

"Ohh—okay Father, go ahead..."

He stepped out of the booth, closing the small wooden door behind him as he accepted the call. “Your Excellency,” Hyunjin greeted respectfully.

“Hyunjin,” Minho’s calm voice answered. “Forgive the late notice. I regret to inform you that the previously arranged date for your visit to Seoul was postponed. An unexpected matter required my presence elsewhere. I will arrange another suitable time soon.”

“I understand,” Hyunjin replied. “No worries.”

“It should not cause inconvenience,” Minho continued. “I will ensure the next schedule is confirmed in advance.” After brief formalities, the call ended.

Hyunjin lowered the phone immediately, heart moving faster than the situation warranted. Without delay, he turned back toward the confession booth, pushing the small door open with panicked urgency.

"Felix? Shit—" The seat on the other side of the partition was vacant.

Felix had left. Hyunjin remained standing in the doorway for a too long, fingers resting lightly against the wooden frame. A subtle frustration stirred beneath his otherwise composed expression. He had come so close. Yet once again, the face behind the voice remained unknown.

Hyunjin slowly sat down inside the empty confession booth, the wooden seat creaking faintly beneath his weight. The space felt unusually tight, as though the walls themselves had drawn closer. His hand pressed instinctively against his chest, feeling an ache he could neither explain nor properly name.

He had not seen the pretty blond during mass. And now, he had missed the chance to see Felix’s face after confession. The realization left an uncomfortable heaviness lingering in his thoughts.

He sounded foolish (well, worse and improper) anticipating the presence of two people he barely knew. One remained faceless, known only by a voice that lingered far too vividly in memory. The other possessed a face so striking it had followed him even into sleep. 

Hyunjin immediately went to his residence and opened his safe. There, the sin sat. He took that box of cigarette and pulled a stick. "Forgive me. I need just one." His hands were shaking as he flicked the lighter, the flame burning the tip of the cigarette. He took a deep drag as the smoke filled his lungs before he blew them away.

He was so stressed, so frustrated and so horny. He closed his eyes as he took another drag of smoke. "Fuck, why is my dick still hard?"

His mind answered for him. He pictured a faceless boy dancing slowly on top of a pedestal with men lusting over him. He could vividly feel, as if he was one of the patron in that club, talking to that boy, having his fingers run from Felix’s knee, towards the inside of his thigh. He could imagine how flowery and citrusy the boy must have smelled. How soft Felix’s skin might have been under his palms. How he could risk just one night to see the face behind that warm and inviting voice. 

Heaven knew how Hyunjin was losing it. 

When the stick was turned to ashes, he softly closed the safe and hated himself even more. "Enough, Hyunjin."

Hyunjin lowered his head, clasping his hands together. "Lord God, please. I am asking for forgiveness, asking that whatever stirred within me might be calmed before it grew into something far more difficult to silence."

By Monday evening, Hyunjin found himself seated at a long polished dining table within the mayor’s residence. Mayor Bang was a gracious host, often speaking of the importance of harmony between church and community. The meal was plentiful. There were fresh fish, warm rice, and side dishes.

Hyunjin was introduced to the mayor’s son. Bang Chan, only a year his senior.

“I have heard much about you, Father Hwang,” Chan said, offering a polite smile as he poured tea into Hyunjin’s cup. “Three months in our town, and already people speak highly of your sermons.”

“You are generous with your words."

Chan leaned back slightly, fingers resting against the edge of the table as though already imagining larger rooms, greater audiences. “My father’s term will conclude within a few years. And when that time comes, I intend to run for mayor myself.”

Mayor Bang chuckled approvingly from the head of the table but did not interrupt.

“This town values guidance,” Chan continued, gaze steady upon Hyunjin. “Faith shapes public trust more than most realize. If I am to lead well, I would hope to receive the church’s support… and yours.”

Hyunjin tilted his head thoughtfully, offering a careful answer. “The church seek always the welfare of the people,” he said calmly. “Any leader who pursues justice and humility shall find no opposition from me.”

“I believe we will understand each other well, Father Hwang,” Chan smiled, seemingly satisfied.

The evening continued with those kind of conversations. And when it ended, Hyunjin took a deep breath before he climbed into his car. 

The steering wheel felt colder than usual beneath Hyunjin’s hands as he drove away from the mayor’s newly built residence. The visit had been fruitful. Yet something about the entire encounter left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He had seen it before. The influential families suddenly eager to be seen beside the Church, eager for blessings when public image required moral association. The subtle attempts to appear devout. The carefully worded generosity. The quiet implication of favors unspoken.

It unsettled him. Faith should never be currency. Yet the conversation had felt heavy with invisible transactions.

As he drove along the quiet road, Hyunjin felt an unfamiliar restlessness. His thoughts refused to settle, shifting uneasily between duty and suspicion. Almost unconsciously, his hand reached his phone a and went straight to contacts.

PB

He did not know why. Maybe distraction felt easier than confronting the discomfort lingering from the visit. Maybe weakness simply found convenient justification.

He remembered the how the boy’s pale blond hair looked too good with that small pretty face, followed by the low voice from the confession booth that seemed to linger far longer than appropriate.

He exhaled slowly, teeth grinding. He hated how fragile his composure felt lately, how easily his thoughts strayed toward people he barely knew. Hanging by a thread, he thought bitterly. He wanted to guard everything he built.

Before he could reconsider, he pressed the call button. The line rang several time and it finally landed to a voicemail. Relief should have followed. Instead, he was actually disappointed. He ended the call, fingers hovering briefly over the screen before pressing dial once more.

The ringing continued longer this time. Then, suddenly, the call connected. Hyunjin quickly placed the phone on speaker, adjusting his grip on the wheel.

“Hello?” Hyunjin said.

But no voice responded. Instead, loud music poured through the speakers. There was heavy bass vibrating faintly through the car’s interior. Voices overlapped somewhere in the background, distant laughter echoing between sharp bursts of sound.

"Can you take two cocks at once?" A man had spoken, tho Hyunjin was not sure if he heard that right because it was layered with a noisy music.

"What on earth?"

>>>>>>

Chapter Text

2 Timothy 3:1–5

But understand this, that in the last days there will come times of difficulty. For people will be lovers of self, lovers of money, proud, arrogant, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, heartless, unappeasable, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not loving good, treacherous, reckless, swollen with conceit, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, having the appearance of godliness, but denying its power. Avoid such people.

♱

The call had ended shortly after. He frowned with what he heard. Hyunjin had connected everything. That other side of the call had sounded like a place of sin. "Is that not a club? Is it possible? Is Felix and the blond boy... the same person?" 

He tried calling again, he needed to know more. But it went directly to voicemail, so he didn't push and kept driving.

When Hyunjin finally arrived home, the quiet inside the small residence felt unusually loud. The faint ticking of the wall clock echoed across the modest living space, each second stretching long. He placed his keys carefully on the table, slower as if delaying something inevitable. Then he took out his phone again and looked at the name, PB.

The call earlier had lasted no more than five seconds before the line disconnected. Yet those five seconds lingered far more persistently than he wanted to admit. There was a heavy bass with the overlapping voices. There's distant laughter and unmistakably a club atmosphere. Then a person asking an absurd question…

So Felix had not exaggerated. It was really a filthy world. "You are capable of taking two cocks at once? So my dick is nothing compared to two, right? If I fuck you right there and then, it will not be good enough?"

Hyunjin scoffed while feeling frustrated. He leaned back against the chair, staring at the contact name saved on his phone. Why didn't I think about the possibility that they are just one person? That pretty blond is Felix. But how come that face comes with a low voice? It doesn’t make sense.

He pressed call again regardless if it's already late. The line did not even ring this time because the phone was off. His jaw tightened, clearly annoyed.

What exactly had he expected? That Felix would answer immediately? That he would simply speak as though their conversation existed outside the boundaries of confession and propriety?

He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. He should let it go and yet, his mind continued replaying what nasty things Felix were doing when not sitting behind wooden partitions or sitting quietly among parishioners.

Eventually, Hyunjin set the phone down firmly. "There is a possibility, right?"

Hyunjin's neck was kind of stiff due to wrong position when he fell asleep. Because of it, Tuesday morning was a mild hell. Then and the familiar sound of knocking at the door followed.

Dara and Chaerin entered with the comfortable ease. Plastic bags rustled as they set groceries upon the kitchen counter. There were fish wrapped neatly, cuts of meat, bundles of leafy vegetables still fresh with dew.

“You truly do not need to buy these for me, Dara-ssi and Chaerin-ssi,” Hyunjin said politely, moving closer to help. “I am capable of visiting the wet market myself.”

“Tsk, Father... It's okay, really,” Dara waved dismissively. “I want to cook anyway. My house is too quiet these days. I become bored.”

Chaerin chuckled, already arranging items into the refrigerator. “You are bored because your street is silent during weekdays,” she teased. “Unlike weekends, when your neighbor plays music loud enough for the entire town to hear.”

Hyunjin listened quietly, allowing the familiar rhythm of their conversation to continue. Their small gossip often filled the otherwise still residence with an oddly comforting sense of domestic warmth.

“You should speak to that student. Tell her the noise is disturbing.”

“I do not want to talk to these Gen Z children,” Dara scoffed. “They do not listen. And that one looks like a brat. One of those rich kids who believe rules do not apply to them.”

“Just because she is blonde does not mean she is rich or spoiled,” Chaerin said.

Hyunjin’s attention shifted. “Blonde?” he asked, tone carefully neutral. In the span of three months. He only saw one blond. And that was the boy in the church.

Dara nodded while placing vegetables neatly into the fridge. “Yes. Her hair is so bright it hurts my eyes. She's renting the house beside mine. Quite young. Hmmm, a little taller than me like around 171 centimeters. She has big eyes and sun freckles. Always wearing too short shorts and oversized shirts. Sometimes I wonder if she is even wearing bottoms at all because the shirts are too large.”

Something tightened subtly in Hyunjin’s chest. “Did you say a girl, Dara-ssi? A blonde girl?"

Dara nodded again. “Yes, a blonde girl. Skinny and annoyingly pretty. Reminds me when I was younger. Heard she’s a Fashion Design student at Jeju National University.”

”Ahh, but I heard she has a boyfriend at University. Someone said he's rich because he's driving a really expensive car. Minzy said he's always fetching her on Mondays and send her home by Saturday morning. And she lives with him on weekdays. That’s why you get to live peacefully by then.” Chaerin gossiped.

"You're right, the boyfriend seems rich. Oh, to be young." Dara chuckled.

Now his thoughts began rearranging themselves uneasily. So Felix will never be that blonde. Because Felix was a boy who’s a Veterinary Medicine freshman and that blonde was apparently a girl, a Fashion Design student (based on hearsay).

He remembered him looking ethereal with his tongue sticking out. And yet… He could have sworn he saw the faint shape of an Adam’s apple that mass. 

“I thought I saw someone blond in the mass the other Sunday, I believe the person was a boy.”

Chaerin immediately shook her head. “Boy? No. That’s definitely a girl. A sly one. I saw her that day too, Father,” she said. “Forgive me, Lord, but I did not like her attire at all. Louis Vuitton, of all things? My God. It's even sleeveless. Church is not a fashion show. That bleached blonde plus expensive clothes should never be allowed inside. She doesn't have any shame to parade that expensive top.”

Confirmed. We are talking about the same person who wore a Louis Vuitton top. “So she is really a girl?” Hyunjin repeated carefully. He hated how it was causing another surge of confusion.

“Yes,” Dara confirmed. “And I do not think she is Catholic. There is no religious sign outside her home. Maybe she is simply curious, that's why she went to church one time.”

Chaerin shrugged. “Or simply noisy and nosey,” she added.

Hyunjin remained still beside the counter, thoughts quietly colliding. So I am apparently back to zero. The pretty blonde is a girl and now, I do not know what Felix looks like. This is ridiculous. 

So what I heard might not be the club that Felix was working at. She might've been with other students doing some sinful activities. Practicing pre-marital sex. Double penetration, to be specific. She's also filthy as fuck, just like Felix.

That night, he prayed for the blonde girl. Asking the Lord to forgive all her sins.

"Guess I will ride the bike today." Hyunjin had crossed the Wednesday on his calendar and took the bike off the rack.

The sky was still dark when he stepped outside the parish residence, the air cool enough to sting lightly against his skin. He fastened his helmet, secured the strap beneath his chin, and tapped his Garmin watch to begin tracking as he selected the cycling mode.

His plan was simple. An uphill route beginning at five in the morning, pushing through the gradual incline toward the quieter hills beyond town, then returning before seven. This should clear his thoughts, burn away distraction, and restore order where internal noise attempted to take root.

Surprisingly, his mind felt calm that morning. There was no intrusive images of the blonde girl. No lingering echoes of voices of Felix. He just pedalled steadily with the quiet hush of tires brushing against pavement. The early hour kept the streets nearly empty. The town remained wrapped in soft pre-dawn silence, broken only by distant roosters and the occasional rustle of leaves.

Then he passed Dara’s house. His pace slowed instinctively. Without fully deciding to do so, Hyunjin pressed the brakes. The bicycle wheels gave a soft squeak as he came to a stop just past her small gate. For a moment, he remained still, fingers resting lightly on the handlebars.

Hyunjin, what are you doing?

Then he turned back. Two houses stood beside Dara’s residence he had not intended to notice. Yet now that he was there, curiosity stirred again. 

On the left side, the porch light was still on. A small scooter leaned against the wall, slightly dusty from regular use. Nearby were scattered plastic toys, a fishing net hanging beside the door. Signs of a family. The father must be a fisherman with a wife and kids. Routine domestic life and nothing unusual.

On the right side stood a more modest structure. It was just a single-story unit, simple in design, almost plain compared to neighboring homes. There were no decorations nor visible signs of religious imagery.

Hyunjin dismounted his bicycle slowly, guiding it closer before resting it gently against the fence. His steps felt unusually careful as he approached the small gate. Then he finally knocked. He waited for several seconds but there was no answer. He hesitated, then knocked again. 

The metal gate shifted faintly beneath the motion of his hand, pushing inward with a soft creak. The gate was unlocked and Hyunjin froze momentarily.

Seriously Hyunjin, you're out of your mind.

This was inappropriate. He knew that clearly. Trespassing, even if unintentional, was not something he should rationalize. Yet before he could stop himself, he took a step inside the small property. It felt as though logic had momentarily loosened its hold on him.

“Hello?” he called softly.

There was no response coming from inside the house. All the lights were off. The interior remained dark, suggesting the occupant was still asleep or perhaps not home at all. It was only six in the morning, and the rising sun filtered faintly through tree leaves, casting shifting shadows across the small yard.

He should leave. He knew he should. But just before turning away, something caught his attention. He turned and saw a small drying rack stood near the side wall. Clothes hung neatly. There were oversized hoodies, loose shirts, comfortable shorts.

Then he saw it... the familiar turtle neck, sleeveless Louis Vuitton top. The same one worn by that blonde girl during mass. He recognized it immediately. Beside it, hanging discreetly among the garments, was a delicate red lace thong.

Is that a... panty???

Hyunjin’s breath caught. Heat rushed quickly to his face and he blushed hard. The garment was unmistakably feminine. His thoughts scrambled, conflicting with the memory that had troubled him for days... He remembered the Adam's apple on that throat when the blond parishioner tilted their head during mass. It had unsettled him enough to linger in his thoughts for days.

But this undergarment confirmed it. His brain immediately handed him a mental image of the blonde pretty girl wearing the red laced panty, lying on the bed, with her tongue sticking out. Then a man behind her moved the thong to the side so he could slip his cock inside his ass. She squirmed as another man shove his cock inside her wet slippery pussy. Hyunjin’s shaft suddenly got hard thinking that she was being fucked by two men simultaneously.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Embarrassment flooded him just as quickly as realization. Without another second of hesitation, Hyunjin stepped back outside the gate, closing it gently as though minimizing the evidence of his presence. He mounted his bicycle almost too quickly, heart beating faster than the uphill climb ever required.

The cool air rushed past his face as he gained speed along the uphill road, yet his mind refused to quiet. He really thought the blonde was Felix. Especially with that call that suggested the blonde was in a club. So he assumed the blonde was Felix.

Yet everyone insisted that blonde was a girl. Dara had described her clearly. The height, the freckles, the soft-feature, always dressed in oversized clothing. Chaerin had even criticized her outfit, unmistakably referring to her as female. And now that he saw that red thong and the top. It confirmed everything.

Hyunjin exhaled sharply, almost scoffing at himself as he pressed harder against the pedals.

That sexy thong. No man would wear something like that. At least, not someone living quietly in this provincial town.

His pace quickened, muscles tightening as he climbed the slope.

That pretty face is a fucking a girl. Receiving two cocks at once.

The realization should have simplified everything. Instead, it complicated things even more. Because for a brief, irrational moment, he had almost wished the opposite. That the blond parishioner and the man in the confession booth were the same person. That the voice that lingered in his memory belonged to the same face that had distracted him during mass.

It would have been easier that way. One temptation instead of two. One problem instead of a divided mind. But now the distance between them felt clearer than ever. He could not imagine that delicate, almost ethereal face producing the low, textured voice that seemed to vibrate gently through the wooden screen of the confessional.

The contrast felt impossible. And now, he found himself again in an even more absurd situation. Attracted to two different people. A blond girl with a face he could not easily forget. And an unseen man named Felix, whose voice alone unsettled him more than it should.

Hyunjin let out a quiet, humorless laugh at his own thoughts.

"Why am I even allowing this to become a dilemma? There’s no real problem to solve. Neither possibility will lead anywhere."

He could not pursue the blonde girl. He could not pursue Felix. Both were entirely beyond reach. Not because of circumstance, but because of the vows he had chosen willingly. Because he was a damn priest.

The reality felt almost embarrassing. All this internal conflict… for something that did not even exist. No relationship. No possibility. And definitely no future. Just imagination straying where it should not.

He shook his head slightly and increased his pace, legs pushing harder against resistance as though physical effort alone could burn away unnecessary thoughts. Hyunjin rode faster, almost as if outrunning the foolishness of his own mind.

By Thursday, Hyunjin had a simple prayer offered over a farmer’s newly purchased tractor. The machine stood gleaming beneath the afternoon sun, decorated awkwardly with a ribbon tied by proud hands that had worked soil for decades. Hyunjin spoke the blessing, holy water glistening briefly before disappearing into metal warmed by heat and labor.

The parishioners thanked him repeatedly. Faith, in places like this, felt grounded in small mercies. With good harvests, working engines plus steady rain.

He walked with them along the narrow road afterward, their conversation drifting from crops to town news. Dara eventually waved goodbye, announcing that her home lay just beyond the next street. Hyunjin nodded politely, offering parting words, before slowing his pace.

“You shall go ahead,” he told the others. “I will just visit the local shop.”

They accepted the explanation easily.

Soon, he found himself walking alone. The late afternoon air carried a soft warmth, the sky beginning to soften into gold as the sun slowly descended. He wandered without direction, hands clasped loosely behind his back, appearing no different from any priest enjoying a quiet walk.

But his steps were not entirely aimless. When he passed a small cafe, he paused briefly, then ordered two coffees. He did not question the decision aloud. He simply paid, accepted the warm paper cups, and continued walking.

Only when he reached the familiar street, he allowed himself to acknowledge where his feet had led him. The blonde girl's residence stood quietly beside Dara’s home.

He glanced subtly around, ensuring no familiar faces lingered nearby. "Why should I feel the need to hide something that is, in theory, harmless?"

The gate remained slightly open and unlatched. It was unwelcoming in its quiet invitation. She is not home, he reasoned silently, yet he stepped inside anyway.

Gravel shifted faintly beneath his shoes as he approached the small porch. The evening light stretched across the modest space, painting long shadows against pale walls. And yes, he ignored the red thong. Although for a moment, he considered reaching for it and smelling the garment. 

Instead, he sat there with one coffee rested in his hands and the other he placed carefully upon the small outdoor table. The steam curled gently into cooling air as the sky deepened into amber. Hyunjin stared forward, listening to the distant hum of insects beginning their nightly chorus.

"What am I doing again?" Fuck, Hyunjin. This is not pastoral duty. This is not ministry. This is obviously waiting.

And waiting implied expectation. Expectation implied desire. And desire was precisely what he had promised to surrender.

A priest was not meant to entertain such inclinations. Not this stupid romantic curiosity, not physical attraction, not the restless pull toward another person’s presence. His role required discipline not only in action, but in thought itself. Even the quiet hope that she might appear felt dangerously misplaced.

Most importantly, as the two church butlers had gossiped, he remembered that somebody had already taken her. A certain boyfriend who fetches her on Mondays to go to the university. Was he expecting the blonde girl to be home when she’s clearly busy studying?

What was he going to do if she magically appear at home? Was he just concerned? Yes. This is nothing but concern because she left her with a number that night, crying. And he was concerned of what sin she was living in after hearing that filthy call.

He lowered his gaze toward the untouched coffee on the table. "God, will you accept if my reason is that... I'm just being friendly? If I just want to help her wash her hands from earthly sins?"

Yet honesty pressed heavier within him. He knew there was something beneath the gesture. Something he could not easily sanctify with intention alone.

His vocation demanded restraint deeper than behavior. He should have practice restraint of longing, restraint of imagination and most importantly, restraint of the quiet human urge to seek companionship. And restraint being too attracted to another human that made him do and think out of his supposed role in the community.

Slowly, Hyunjin stood. The second coffee remained where he placed it.

"I should leave." He did not linger further. Without allowing himself another moment of hesitation, he stepped outside the gate and began walking back toward the chapel, the fading light stretching long shadows ahead of him. You're so stupid, Hyunjin.

Hyunjin returned to the altar as he continued reflecting on 2 Timothy 3:1–5.  “In these times,” Hyunjin said gently, scanning the congregation, “we must examine not only what we do, but what we allow ourselves to desire. For desire, when left unattended, may lead us away from truth.”

Jeongin assisted with preparation. The familiar rhythm grounded him, returning his thoughts to sacred order.

"The human heart is easily deceived by desire that people covered as innocence. Longing often arrived quietly, presenting itself as harmless curiosity before revealing its deeper hold."

Yet even as the words left his lips, his eyes betrayed him. He searched even though he knew he should not. He knew the mass was not a place for such distractions. Still, his gaze moved subtly across the pews, scanning faces, hoping not to hope.

He told himself it was simple pastoral concern. Concern for a parishioner who seemed new, unfamiliar, possibly troubled. But the truth? He longed to see her. Now that it had been confirmed she was a woman... something within him felt cured.

For years, he had wrestled silently with attraction toward men, believing the priesthood might quiet that part of himself. He had interpreted his vocation as both calling and refuge.

Now, unexpectedly, he found himself genuinely drawn toward a woman. It should have brought relief. Instead, it brought another form of guilt just like the first time he saw her. And now, he concluded again that he was a bisexual and not entirely gay. But despite it all, a priest was not permitted to entertain longing for anyone.

Not man, nor woman. Not anyone at all. Still, somewhere in the quiet chambers of his conscience, a fragile thought had emerged...

Is this progress? Had my prayers been answered in some incomplete, complicated way?

But I will not pursue her. Never. He repeated this firmly within himself. He would not cross the boundaries he had promised to uphold. But he could not deny that he was yearning simply to see her among the congregation.

And then, near the back row, he found her. Partially hidden beneath the shadowed light near the chapel entrance.

She wore a dark blue oversized hoodie, loose fabric draping softly around her frame. The blond strands of her hair were mostly concealed, tucked carelessly within the hood, leaving only portions of pale color visible beneath the dim glow of overhead lamps.

Her face appeared smaller that way. Oh, Mother of God. She looked more fragile and more human. And unmistakably feminine. Maybe Dara-ssi and Chaerin-ssi are correct.

Then Hyunjin noticed the faint swelling beneath her eyes and nose that was slightly red. A single tear slipped quietly down her cheek as she immediately wiped it with a tissue. The sight struck him unexpectedly.

Why are you crying, my child?

The question rose instinctively within him. Concern tightened subtly in his chest. Every pastoral instinct urged him to pause, to step down from the altar, to ask gently whether she needed comfort, guidance, reassurance or a hug? But he could not. The liturgy continued. The structure of the mass allowed no interruption for personal impulse.

So he steadied his voice and continued the homily. He spoke of strength in times of weakness. Of the danger of loving worldly things more than God. Of how even sincere hearts must guard themselves carefully.

Yet part of him struggled quietly beneath the surface of composure. Because even as he warned against disordered longing, he could feel his own heart reaching with concern. And concern, too, could become attachment if left unchecked.

He kept his gaze forward, finishing the homily with calm dignity. Then came the Eucharist. Hyunjin lifted the ostia, voice solemn. “Behold the Lamb of God, behold Him who takes away the sins of the world. Blessed are those called to the supper of the Lamb.”

The congregation responded in unison. “Lord, I am not worthy that You should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.”

Soon, the line formed. One by one, parishioners approached the altar, hands folded and eyes lowered.

“The Body of Christ,” Hyunjin repeated steadily as each communicant stepped forward.

“Amen,” each replied.

The repetition usually allowed his mind to settle completely into ritual. But when she approached, something within him tensed almost imperceptibly.

The oversized dark blue hoodie still softened her frame, sleeves slightly covering her tiny hands. Strands of pale blond hair slipped forward as she tilted her head slightly upward.

Her eyes did not meet his directly. They appeared distant. And Hyunjin caught tears brimming on her lower lashes. He wanted to reach for her face so badly. To ask what was wrong. To know what Hyunjin could do to make her feel better. He didn't even had lewd thoughts. He sincerely wanted to comfort this lost soul.

“The Body of Christ,” Hyunjin said, eyes looked concerned, staring at her pretty face.

She did not say Amen. Instead, she opened her mouth slightly and extended her tongue in silent expectation. The gesture caught him unexpectedly off guard. Her tongue was sticking out again while her teary eyes were reflecting those fleeting lights. So pretty, so vulnerable, so fuckable.

Shit, why do you always seduce me? Do you really want me to fuck your mouth?  

Carefully, he placed the round ostia upon her tongue, fingers careful not to touch skin. But it did. The wetness of her tongue sent chills to Hyunjin's spine. For a second, time seemed unusually slow. A faint warmth rose subtly along his neck. He felt it before he could prevent it. He was blushing hard. The blood did not just rushed to his face, it apparently rushed to his pants as well.

He could feel his shaft instantly getting hard. I am in trouble.

She then closed her mouth gently, lowering her gaze, before turning without a word and walking back toward the pews.

Hyunjin swallowed discreetly while thanking that his robe was probably helping him and his erection to go unnoticed. Then he continued. “The Body of Christ.”

“Amen.” The remaining communicants passed without interruption, yet his concentration required greater effort than usual.

After the final blessing, he concluded the Mass with composed solemnity. “Go forth, the Mass is ended.”

“Thanks be to God.” The congregation slowly dispersed, conversations beginning quietly near the chapel entrance.

Hyunjin allowed a few moments to pass before stepping down from the altar, eyes instinctively searching the back pew. "Where is she?" But she was gone. 

He moved slightly toward the aisle, intending to look outside but a familiar voice interrupted. “Father Hwang...” Hyunjin turned politely to find Bang Chan approaching with friendly face.

“Sorry for stopping you,” Chan said, extending a respectful nod. “I just want to confirm your participation in the upcoming community programs. We are organizing a tree-planting drive next weekend, along with a feeding initiative for stray dogs. The mayor believes your presence would encourage more volunteers.”

“Of course, Such efforts reflect stewardship of creation. Inform me of the details, and I shall assist where appropriate.”

As Chan continued explaining logistics, Hyunjin responded thoughtfully. Yet part of his awareness lingered elsewhere. Somewhere beyond the chapel doors. Where the pretty face had once again appeared… And disappeared just as quickly.

Hyunjin eventually gave up searching for the blonde parishioner. So he returned to the confessional, the familiar wooden enclosure offering both structure and quiet anonymity. The faint scent of old varnish and candle smoke grounded him, reminding him of the purpose of this space.

An elderly man entered first. The confession was simple with small regrets, forgotten prayers and impatience with grandchildren. The usual burdens carried by those who had lived long enough to know the weight of minor failures. Hyunjin offered gentle counsel, assigning prayers that felt appropriate.

When the old man left, silence briefly settled again. Then the door opened once more. A quiet cough echoed from the other side of the partition.

“Hi, Father… it’s me. I hope you didn't forget me. I'm Felix.”

The voice was unmistakable, he definitely missed it. The low, textured and strangely warm even beneath the rasp of illness. Hyunjin straightened instinctively. “Are you sick, Felix?” he asked, concern surfacing naturally.

“Yeah… kinda,” Felix said, voice slightly hoarse. “Caught a cold. Flu season is brutal lately. You should take vitamins too, Father Hwang. People keep forgetting priests get sick too.”

“Thank you. You should take care of yourself as well. About last time,” Hyunjin continued carefully, “forgive the interruption. I received an urgent call. When I returned, you had already left.”

Felix gave a soft chuckle, followed by another cough. “Oh, that? Yeah, sorry too. I really had to pee,” he said bluntly. “Couldn’t hold it anymore.”

Hyunjin blinked faintly, caught off guard by the candid explanation. “I see,” he replied, regaining composure. “Do you have anything you wish to confess today?” he asked, his jaw tightened slightly as he spoke. “Perhaps regarding… your occupation?”

The thought of Felix working in such an environment continued to trouble him deeply. The idea that men were drooling over Felix while he was dancing without any clothes made his blood boil and at the same time... made him so turned on. He looked down at his pants and as he expected, he was hard. He hated how simply hearing Felix's voice could give him an instant boner. Hyunjin had to bite his lower lip to stop himself from making weird noises.

“Nothing major,” Felix said, sniffing lightly. “Honestly, I just needed someone to talk to. Not really a confession moment.”

“Alright. We can still use this time even if it is not solely for confession. What troubles you, then?” Hyunjin asked gently.

“Father Hwang… I saw my ex.”

The words immediately sharpened Hyunjin’s attention, him feeling a little excited earlier turned to a more serious atmosphere. “Ex? Your former lover?” he clarified.

“Yup yup. He’s older. Like five years older. But apparently his mom found him a fiancé, so… he’s getting married soon.”

Hyunjin felt a faint tightening in his chest. “So… your former partner is male,” he said cautiously.

Felix gave a quiet scoff. “Well, yeah. Obviously. You forgot already that my mom got mad because I'm gay? I mean yeah, he saw the manhwa. But I told you... she wants me to repent because I'm gay. Aigoo—you obviously forgot about it. That's disappointing.” he said. “Well, anyway... But that’s not even the worst part.”

“What is it?”

“He asked if we could meet one last time before the wedding,” Felix said, sniffing again. “Like closure or whatever.”

“Do not,” he said. Something inside Hyunjin reacted immediately. There was a sudden firmness rising before he could fully temper it. "Don't meet him!"

The answer came too quickly. Too sharply. Hyunjin himself felt momentarily startled by the force of his response. Why had he spoken with such urgency? Was it moral concern? Protectiveness? Or something far less appropriate?

Felix was quiet for a second, as though surprised by the intensity. Hyunjin steadied his tone, though conflicting thoughts pressed heavily within him. Felix sought guidance. Yet part of him resisted the idea of Felix seeing someone else, even an ending, even closure. The realization unsettled him. He forced himself to remain composed.

“It may reopen wounds unnecessarily,” Hyunjin added more calmly. “Sometimes distance is the wiser path.”

Still, even as he framed the advice within reason, he could not fully silence the uncomfortable awareness forming within him. His concern no longer felt purely pastoral. And that frightened him. He knew how he could be possessive when jealous. 

Jealous? Why am I even jelous? I only find his voice sexy and intriguing. I don’t have the right be this territorial.

“I still have feelings for him,” Felix admitted, voice roughened by both illness and restraint. “He was my first… everything. First person I ever liked. First person I trusted. First person I gave my—” He stopped, swallowing thickly before continuing. “Of course I want to see him.”

Hyunjin’s grip tightened against the wooden divider. “You must not. Returning to past attachments, especially those rooted in sin, will only deepen confusion.”

Felix let out a strained laugh, humorless. “Sin?” he repeated. “Father, I loved him. I still do. You make it sound like I committed a crime.”

“You place yourself willingly in temptation,” Hyunjin replied, voice low but intense. “You said yourself that he is to be married. That chapter has ended. To meet him again, especially under such intention, will not bring peace.”

Felix sniffed, voice trembling now. “You don’t get it, he’s the only one who saw me. Not just… like a sex toy. Not just what people assume I am.”

Hyunjin clenched his jaw. “Then honor what remains by letting go, you are a child of the Lord,” 

Felix’s breath hitched. “I want to sleep with him one last time. Okay? Can't I have sex with him? I want a dick in my ass!” Felix admitted bluntly, he sounded desperate. “Just once. So I can move on properly. Is that so horrible? Am I not allowed to do that? He's not yet fucking married!!!”

The confession struck Hyunjin harder than he expected. “Yes. It is disordered. It binds you further to what you should be freeing yourself from.”

Felix let out a frustrated exhale. “You keep talking like feelings can just be deleted,” he said, voice cracking. “Like I can just switch it off because someone told me it’s wrong? Oh my god, you don’t understand, Father Hwang!”

“Don’t use the Lord’s name in vain. Feelings must not dictate action. Discipline exists for a reason, Felix.”

Felix laughed again, but the sound broke midway. “You don’t really fucking understand how hard it is,” he whispered. “He’smy first love. First kiss. First time. First finger. First blow fucking job. First anal. First everything. You don’t just forget someone like that.”

Silence filled the booth for a brief moment. Then Felix spoke again, voice barely steady. “I miss him. I miss Changbin...”

Changbin? Fuck whoever is that Changbin!

The quiet vulnerability in those words stirred something uncomfortable within Hyunjin. “You deserve better than being someone’s secret. Better than allowing yourself to be used for closure while he prepares to build a life with another.”

Felix’s breath shook. “At least he chose me once,” Felix grunted. “At least for a while… I mattered.”

Emotion trembled clearly beneath his words now. Hyunjin’s restraint began to thin. “You matter still,” he insisted, voice rising slightly. “But not in ways that degrade your dignity. You must not meet him.”

“Why are you so pressed about it, Father Hwang?” Felix suddenly challenged, tone breaking. “Why are you taking this personally? You sound so offended as if loving is a sin! You don't even know me!”

“It is my duty to guide you away from harm, my child.”

"You don't understand, Father Hwang!" Felix said loudly with shaking voice. He started sobbing loud, tears completely falling free. He sniffed, as if taking all the courage. “You don’t even know what it feels like to want someone you can’t have!” he shouted.

"I FUCKING DO!"

Hyunjin stood abruptly, chair scraping faintly against wooden flooring. Before fully reconsidering, Hyunjin moved and went out the booth. His hand reached toward the confessional door where Felix was.

The sudden movement broke the boundary he had carefully maintained for months.

"Are you always this stubborn? You want to get fucked, Felix? You just need a dick in your filthy hole, right? Is that it???" He aggressively opened the door and froze.

Sitting before him was the same pale blond figure from the mass. The same delicate features softened by oversized clothing. The same pretty face framed by strands of light hair that caught even the dimmest glow. The one who owned that seductive red laced undergarment.

Felix stood slowly, his teary-eyes reddened, cheeks damp with tears, and his breath uneven. His hands were shaking and lips quivering in fear.

So damn beautiful, unmistakably the same person everyone believed to be a girl. Hyunjin’s brain malfunctioned completely. The sultry voice he had memorized and the pretty face he had searched for belong to... one person.

Oh.

Oh.

Fuck. My little lamb.

>>>>>>

Chapter Text

Romans 6:12-14

Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its evil desires. Do not offer the parts of your body to sin, as instruments of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God, as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer the parts of your body to him as instruments of righteousness. For sin shall not be your master, because you are not under law, but under grace.

Felix had always found comfort in confession with the familiar cadence of Father Hwang’s calm voice, it was the only place where he believed he could still be seen without being judged. Father Hwang had always been composed and gentle even when delivering difficult truths. Felix admired him, the way the priest never seemed shaken by the chaos of other people’s lives. But today, he was dangerously different.

“I FUCKING DO!” Father Hwang had shouted. The words struck Felix hard. They didn’t sound sympathetic but rather sharp and angry.

"F—father Hwang…" He whispered to himself. Why would a priest act like that? Why would he shout? And why was Father Hwang so affected?

A thousand terrible thoughts flooded Felix’s mind all at once. Does Father Hwang look down on me now? Does he think I'm shameful? Father, do you think I'm disgusting? Or… stupid because I badly want to go and see my ex? The only person who made me feel loved?

"Are you always this stubborn? You want to get fucked, Felix? You just need a dick in your filthy hole, right? Is that it???" What? What did you say, Father Hwang? Did I hear that right? Filthy—? WHAT???

Tears began slipping down Felix’s cheeks before he could even stop them. His chest tightened, every breath trembling and uneven as humiliation burned under his skin. He had already been terrified to confess this, already expecting disappointment… but not this. Not anger. Not Father Hwang of all people, asking if he just wanted a dick in his filthy hole.

He suddenly felt small. After everything he gave up, it seemed he was unworthy after all. He had decided to leave home and tried to live without his parents' money. He had lied to Father Hwang, yes. He was not really kicked out of his home. He was actually a runaway. His mom had said she was disowning him and she was actually planning on sending Felix back to Australia. So people here wouldn't look down on them because their only son was gay.

He grew up for fifteen years in Australia and five years here in Korea. Despite the difference in culture, he actually preferred to stay here. Partly because he had met someone special, Changbin, so going back abroad felt like torture. He'd rather suffer here, knowing his ex will be wedded soon than be sent far from him.

He knew his mom and dad were looking for Felix but he told everyone that his parents had thrown him away. Because he was afraid that people might send him back to his personal hell. His parents were religious and he promised himself he would find peace within himself first before returning. He was made to believe that his past actions were wrong. Irrational as it might sound, he was trying to actually see where his parents (especially his mom) were coming from, hence, he had been talking to Father Hwang about his concerns. Believing that if he sorted everything out, upon return, his mom might change her heart and not send him abroad anymore.

For a while, Father Hwang had become his rock and anchor. Like a guardian. He was fascinated with how he conducted Masses and how he was always extending grace even when Felix had been confessing all his sins.

Until now.

Felix cried quietly, shoulders shaking, his hands clutching the edge of the stool as if it could somehow steady him. Then, the small wooden door of the confessional opened. Felix looked up, startled, heart immediately racing.

Father Hwang stood there and he looked… furious. Felix had never seen him like that. Never.

Gone were the soft eyes Felix had grown used to watch during homilies, the gentle warmth that made people trust him so easily. Now Father Hwang’s jaw was tight, his brows drawn together, his gaze fixed directly on Felix with an intensity that made Felix’s stomach drop.

Felix slowly stood, his knees weak, unsure whether he was allowed to leave or supposed to stay. His tears wouldn’t stop. His fingers shook so badly he had to curl them into his sleeves just to keep them still. He didn’t know what to say and he definitely didn’t know what to do. All he knew was that the man who had always felt safe suddenly felt unpredictable and was suddenly frightening.

Father Hwang looked at Felix from head to toe as he stood near the confession booth, his gaze slow like he was reading something beneath skin instead of simply seeing a person. For a split second, his expression softened in a way that made Felix’s chest tighten, like he had just laid eyes on something pure, something almost sacred.

But then it changed too fast, too sharply, the softness collapsing into something darker as the corner of Father Hwang’s lips curled upward, not quite a smile, more like a quiet predatory amusement. "Look what we have here," he said, tilting his head, as if something inside him had recognized its prey and decided it was already caught.

As if Father Hwang was not expecting Felix at all.

Felix was still trembling, overwhelmed by the atmosphere, by the enclosed space, by the way the church suddenly felt too quiet and something inside him snapped in panic. His hand shot forward before he could think, a small, instinctive slap landing against Father Hwang’s cheek. The sound was loud in the hollow space.

Immediately, Felix went cold with his eyes widening, “Oh shit—sorry! Sorry, Father Hwang, s—sorry!” he stammered, rushing forward in panic, cupping Father Hwang’s face as if he could erase what he had just done with touch alone. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry—”

But Father Hwang didn’t step back. Instead, he caught Felix’s wrist, firmly enough to stop him from caressing his face completely. "My child, did you just slap me?" the priest asked, and there was something unsettling in the way he said it. It was almost amused, almost pleased, his eyes sharpening like a hawk locking onto movement.

Felix’s sobbed harder and for a second, he thought Father Hwang would hurt him back.

However, Father Hwang stepped closer instead, forcing Felix back slightly until he was looming over the smaller boy. “You have so many sins, Felix,” Father Hwang murmured, gaze fixed on him, unblinking. “And now you are hurting people? Do young people nowadays become violent when they are offended?”

Their faces were too close. Felix could feel his warm and impossibly calm breath. His entire body locked up in fear as Father Hwang’s grip tightened on his wrist.

“Aw—!” Felix yelped, voice breaking.

"You want me to discipline you? You insolent brat." Father Hwang gripped on his wrist even harder, hurting him.

Then, from somewhere outside, a voice called out, “Father Hwang? Are you still at the confession booth?”

That was when everything froze. Father Hwang’s eyes flicked toward the door. Felix barely had time to breathe before Father Hwang suddenly pushed him inside the booth and stepped in after him, shutting the door with a soft but final click that made the space feel even smaller than before.

Then, from somewhere deeper inside the chapel, a distant voice echoed. “Father Hwang? Where are you? Someone has left their purse at the ministry… it looks frighteningly expensive."

Felix’s head had started spinning the moment the door shut.

It wasn’t just fear anymore because at this moment, it was everything at once. The closeness, the darkness, the way the air suddenly felt too thick to breathe properly, like his lungs couldn’t quite figure out how to work fast enough. His fever, his nasal congestion. And then there was Father Hwang who was impossibly close, his presence overwhelming in a way Felix couldn’t process, his senses scrambling to catch up.

He could smell him faintly, but there. Father Hwang’s perfume wasn’t strong, not really, especially with Felix’s nose clogged from his cold, his breathing uneven and shallow but it was present enough to confuse him, to ground him and unground him at the same time, to make everything feel sharper and blurrier all at once.

Felix swayed slightly and the dizziness worsened as he heard the rain. It started suddenly, violently pouring down against the roof of the church with a force that filled the silence, loud enough that it almost felt like the world outside had disappeared completely, like they were trapped inside something sealed and suffocating.

Felix hiccupped between sobs like a broken sound slipping out of him before he could stop it. Immediately, Father Hwang moved as his long hand and clamped over Felix’s mouth. It was fast and firm enough that Felix’s breath cut off instantly.

Father Hwang’s palm didn’t just cover his mouth, it pressed against his nose too, completely blocking what little air Felix had been struggling to take in. Panic surged through him, as his body reacted before his mind could, his hands twitching weakly, grabbing Father Hwang's robe as tears continued to spill down his face.

“Don’t make a sound,” Father Hwang commanded.

The footsteps echoed outside, coming closer. Each step was loud against the floor, growing nearer, more distinct, making Felix’s chest tighten painfully as his thoughts spiraled. He was expecting that they will be caught. Caught? But they were not doing anything wrong? So why would Father Hwang tried to hide with him inside the closed space?

Felix’s knees buckled slightly, his balance slipping as his vision darkened at the edges, and for a terrifying second, he thought he might collapse completely due to lack of oxygen but Father Hwang caught him. His strong arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him in, pressing him flush against his body, holding him upright with ease that Felix didn’t have the strength to resist.

“Father?” The voice came again. The other door where Father Hwang should be seated was opened. “Where did you go, Father Hwang?”

Felix’s heart pounded so loudly he was certain it could be heard. He waited for the door where they were practically hugging to open, for everything to fall apart. But it didn’t, instead, the footsteps slowly faded away.

Silence soon returned, broken only by the relentless sound of rain hammering against the church. Father Hwang’s hand finally moved. The second it left his face, Felix gasped loud, desperate, dragging air into his lungs like he had been underwater for too long. His body folded forward as he coughed violently, the force of it shaking him, followed by a sudden sneeze he couldn’t stop.

"Acheuw!!" It landed on Father Hwang’s vestment and Felix froze again, horrified. “I—I’m sorry,” he stammered weakly as he tried to wipe with his hands, his voice hoarse and small.

“Are you really sick?” Father Hwang’s voice changed. It was still low but it sounded softer and concerned. “Oh… you seriously are,” he muttered, his hand briefly pressing against Felix’s forehead. “You have high temperature.”

Felix didn’t know how to respond as his thoughts felt scrambled, slow, like they couldn’t line up properly.

“I will send you home. This won’t work,” Father Hwang said just like that as if everything that had just happened could be dismissed. Father Hwang let go of him and the sudden absence of contact made Felix feel unsteady again.

The door opened as the cold air rushed in. Father Hwang stepped out and said, “Wait here. I will get the car.”

Felix blinked, disoriented, his voice coming out softer than he intended. “I—it’s okay, Father… I can walk home.”

“Do as I say. It is raining and you are ill. Do you think I would allow you to walk home alone?” Father Hwang shook his head and didn’t look back.

Felix leaned on the confession booth, replaying everything as he looked down at his palm. He had just been startled with how Father Hwang had asked him such improper things. But still, he knew he was in the wrong one for hurting him, for slapping him. It was so uncalled for.

After a few minutes, Felix's phone vibrated as a call came from Father Hwang. Felix’s vision started to blur again as he hesitated for half a second, just enough for doubt to creep in before answering. “Go to the main door of the chapel.” The line went dead before Felix could even respond and somehow, even with the unease still coiled tightly in his chest, Felix obeyed.

By the time he reached the main doors, the rain had worsened, pouring down in thick sheets that blurred the outside world into streaks of gray. The sound alone made his head pound harder, his fever simmering just beneath his skin.

A black SUV waited near the entrance as the passenger door swung open from the inside. Father Hwang was already there behind the steering wheel but he didn’t look like Father Hwang anymore. Gone were the robes and the image Felix was used to. He was dressed entirely in black civilian clothes that somehow made him look more dangerous than before.

“I do not have the entire night, Felix,” Father Hwang said impatiently, his voice flat. “Climb up here.”

Felix swallowed, his throat aching, and did as he was told. The moment he sat down, the warmth of the car hit him and with it, the sudden realization of just how cold his body had been. He shivered uncontrollably, small tremors running through him.

Father Hwang reached to the back seat, grabbing a thick blanket and draping it over Felix without asking, tucking it around him. Even with Felix already wearing a hoodie, Father Hwang adjusted the blanket carefully and pulled the seatbelt, securing him. Felix had to look away as he heard his heart was suddenly pounding rapidly.

Then Father Hwang turned the air conditioning vents away so not a single one pointed at Felix. The engine started but the whole ride was oppressively silent.

And Felix didn’t speak. His head felt too heavy, his thoughts too slow, slipping through his grasp before they could fully form. The sound of the engine of the car, the steady rhythm of the rain against the windows… it all blurred together until his eyes fluttered shut without him meaning to as sleep took him quickly.

When Felix opened his eyes again, the world felt familiary… off. He blinked slowly, disoriented, his gaze drifting toward the window. They were on his street and confusion crept in immediately because he didn’t remember telling Father Hwang where he lived.

Did I? His thoughts struggled to piece it together, but nothing made sense.

Then the car came to a smooth stop right in front of his gate. Father Hwang leaned slightly toward the passenger side, muttering under his breath, “Where is that umbrella…” Then, without warning, his hand pressed against Felix’s forehead again. The contact was brief but it burned. “You are still burning,” Father Hwang said, quieter now. “I cannot find the umbrella but I won't let you run in the rain.”

Felix barely had time to react before Father Hwang pulled back, scanning the surroundings through the windshield with a strange kind of caution, his jaw tightening. Then he drove again up the road and away from the house. Felix frowned weakly, confusion deepening, but his body felt too heavy to question it.

After a few minutes, Father Hwang parked under a large tree near a vacant lot with no houses nearby, no lights, just darkness and rain. And something about it felt wrong.

Father Hwang exhaled sharply, his hand tightening around the steering wheel before he turned to Felix. “Hand me your key.”

Felix didn’t argue as his fingers fumbled and handed it over. The moment the keys were in Father Hwang’s hand, he stepped out into the rain without hesitation. Felix barely processed it before his door opened too. Before he could react, the blanket was pulled up over Felix’s head, covering him completely, blocking his view, muffling the sound of the rain.

With one swift motion, he was completely lifted by strong arms. Felix’s breath caught as his body instinctively tensed, his mind lagging behind the sensation of being carried. He felt weightless and small like a child. Father Hwang ran fast through the rain. Felix could hear it now, pounding against the thick material of the blanket, against Father Hwang, against everything, but none of the rain touched him.

By the time the motion stopped, Felix felt himself being set down gently to his porch. The door unlocked as Father Hwang lifted his chin, toward the house, “Go inside.”

Felix stumbled in, his hands fumbling for the light switch, blinking against the sudden brightness. Behind him, Father Hwang stepped in briefly, his clothes completely soaked as well as the blanket, water dripping from his hair, from his sleeves, pooling faintly on the floor.

“You are not soaked, are you?” Father Hwang asked, scanning him quickly.

Felix shook his head weakly.

“Go change your clothes now,” Father Hwang said as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small set of medicines and placing them into Felix’s hand. “Also, take these.”

Felix stared at them, dazed. Father Hwang turned toward the door when he was about to leave but a loud crack of thunder split through the air, followed by a flash of lightning that illuminated the room for a split second. The rain intensified.

“Uhm… Father Hwang…” he said softly while looking down at the medicine. “You can… stay for a bit until the rain subsides." Felix added, his voice small and uncertain. Father Hwang tilted his head again, eyes narrowing. Then Felix quickly added, almost nervously, “You can use the bathroom to change your wet clothes. I—I have a towel there.”

For a split second, Felix wasn't sure if he saw a smirk against Father Hwang's lips. It was there and gone so fast that he thought he was just imagining things.

When Father Hwang was inside the bathroom, Felix swallowed the medicines one by one, barely registering the bitter taste that clung stubbornly to his tongue, his fever-fogged mind only guessing which was meant for his fever, which for the stubborn cold, and which for the cough that rattled weakly in his chest. And another pill that was unlabeled. Yet he took them all anyway because thinking too hard made the dizziness worse.

His fingers trembled slightly as he changed into his soft blue candy-printed pajamas, the fabric brushing against his overheated skin in a way that felt both comforting and suffocating, before slowly sinking onto the couch, limbs heavy, breaths uneven, and waited for Father Hwang with eyes that struggled to stay open.

When Father Hwang stepped out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips, Felix's breath caught somewhere between his lungs and his throat, his already flushed face burning even hotter as his vision struggled to focus yet still managed to take in the sharp lines of Father Hwang's body… broad shoulders, defined torso and arms that looked too strong.

Even through the haze of illness, Felix found himself staring a second too long, his stomach twisting strangely, before he quickly dropped his gaze to his lap, embarrassed heat blooming across his cheeks for reasons that had nothing to do with the fever.

Father Hwang’s presence suddenly loomed in front of him, close enough that Felix could feel the faint warmth radiating from his damp skin, and the concern in his voice only made Felix’s heart stutter more. “You look so red, you should rest, go to your bed,” Father Hwang said, and Felix nodded weakly, though the redness had little to do with sickness and everything to do with how aware he suddenly felt.

“I—I’ll get you some clothes first, Father Hwang,” Felix murmured, attempting to stand despite the way the room tilted violently around him, but before he could even steady himself, Father Hwang’s arms were already around him, lifting him with ease, proving again how Father Hwang could lift him effortlessly as if he weighed nothing at all. Felix let out a quiet, startled breath as he was carried to the bed, head falling briefly against Father Hwang’s bare shoulder, the steady warmth grounding him even as his body shivered.

“I will get clothes myself, where is your wardrobe?” Father Hwang asked. Felix weakly pointed toward the corner, turning his face away almost immediately after being set down on the bed, too aware, too flustered, his entire body heating up as he pulled the blanket up to his chin. He kept his back turned, eyes squeezed shut, as if that could somehow block out the sound of fabric shifting, the quiet movements behind him making his pulse race despite how exhausted he felt.

By the time Father Hwang left the room to change, Felix had already curled slightly into himself, he was starting to drift now. His body ached all over, his head was spinning low with nauseating waves.

He was asleep for about five minutes before he felt the mattress dip beside him. In his half-delirious state, he was disoriented. He wasn't sure who the other person in his room was, forgetting about Father Hwang altogether.

“Felix, I have prepared a wet towel. Will you move? I will put this on your forehead,” someone said. However, he did not respond. Felix was too tired to speak so he let the person gently adjusted him before placing the cool cloth against his burning skin, the sudden contrast made him shiver.

The dizziness only worsened, pulling him deeper into the heavy, sinking feeling. When he tried to open his eyes, they barely lifted halfway before falling again. He tried to open his eyes once more, all he could see was a blurred image of a man.

Sensing that the man shifted as if leaving, Felix weakly reached out, his fingers brushing against the fabric as panic flickered through his haze. "Changbin hyung,.. don't go. Please."

He was sure it was his ex, who else would take care of him like that?

“Stay… please… it’s so cold, hug me please… Don't leave me,” he added, even though his body was burning, the contradiction lost somewhere in his fevered state.

With all his strength, he tried to sit and put his both arms around the person he thought was his ex. Hugging him tight as tears suddenly fell, tracing his crimson cheeks and the damp towel falling off somewhere, "You look so happy with your fiancee. It hurts. So much—can't we… please… just one last…"

Hyunjin sat at the edge of the bed for a long moment, he felt like he was burning from the name that came from Felix's lips. His gaze lowered upon Felix who was clinging onto him, as though the mere act of looking might yield some form of clarity he had thus far been denied.

What am I to do with you? The question did not leave his lips, yet it pressed heavily against the confines of his thoughts persistently.

Felix lifted his tired round eyes, "Fuck me—please. Changbin hyung…." His breathing uneven, the fever still evident in the warmth that lingered upon his skin.

 "Felix, just rest—"

And that's when Felix stretched up to kiss him. Those trembling lips found their way to make Hyunjin freeze. He exhaled deeply as he let Felix slid his tongue inside. Hyunjin found it increasingly difficult to dismiss his worldly desire and to push Felix away. This is wrong. He's mistaken. I should not take advantage of his vulnerability. I should stand firmly on my principles and my love towards the Lord.

But his mouth had another agenda. He kissed back, all consuming and hungry. He devoured Felix's lips, not minding if he was hot and literally burning with fever. His one arm pulled Felix closer by the waist. His other huge hand had grabbed Felix's throat, pressing with force and Felix gasped, mouth opening wide. With that, Hyunjin assaulted him by making the kiss even deeper, more rough, pulling more air from Felix's mouth. His tongue traversed the inside of Felix's mouth, like someone who had been starving for more than a decade and he realized that Felix was beyond the seven deadly sins. He was the temptation against which the Bible warned. He was fucking delicious.

Never, in all the years of his life, had he felt something so consuming and so unwilling to be subdued by discipline alone. Attraction he had known and temptation he had resisted. But this felt altogether different, as though his lust had taken root somewhere deeper than anywhere reason could easily reach.

He pushed Felix back to the mattress, kissing him violently, sucking his lips, his tongue. Mouth grazing his jaw, his burning neck. He wanted to leave marks, to claim Felix, but he couldn't. He should not leave any physical evidence. Yet, he still tasted everything. The younger cried, tears falling down his temples. He moaned softly as he grabbed Hyunjin by his hair. "Hnngggnn—I still love you. Fuck me… please… give it to me…"

Hovering, Hyunjin went back to his lips and kissed him again, only for him to mumble in between breaths, "I can't sin with you, Felix. I should restrain myself. This is unacceptable…" he groaned as his tongue tasted Felix's mouth again.

But no sooner had he said that, than he slid a hand inside Felix's pajamas. The boy was already hard and leaking. Felix whimpered with how Hyunjin enveloped his small dick completely. He stroked him several times as Felix arched his back, arms clinging around Hyunjin, he was so sensitive that merely holding his member made him cum. "Ahhhh—shit… Oh shit…" Felix whined as his hips moved in desperation, chasing the high.

However, while they were making out like two lost souls in lust, Felix's movement became weak. His hands slowly fell from Hyunjin's neck, sliding down as his palms finally rested in between his face. His plumped lips stopped moving altogether and stayed parted. His wet lashes were now closed over his eyes.

Realizing that Felix had succumbed to sleep once more, Hyunjin made an annoyed laugh, low and exasperated. "Must've been the medicines."

He pushed himself off the sleeping body and just sat beside him. He reached for tissue and cleaned his hand of Felix's cum. He grunted and ran a palm across his face. He hated how hard his member was, all excited for nothing. It was true, Felix had mistaken Hyunjin as his past lover but Hyunjin had had no intention of correcting him. How could anyone resist someone as pretty and as young as Felix, freely throwing his body away for someone just to get laid?

So Hyunjin intertwined his hands, staring darkly over Felix's face. Even in such a vulnerable state, there was an undeniable beauty to him. The pale strands of his hair clung faintly to his damp forehead, framing a face that seemed almost too delicate for the harshness of the world. It disturbed Hyunjin how pretty Felix was, under the bedside lamp, so much so that he could not bring himself to look away.

He found himself, however briefly, entertaining a thought so dangerous that he could abandon all that he had built, all that he had vowed, for the sake of fucking this beautiful being before him.

The thought repulsed him as swiftly as it came so he placed the wet towel back on his forehead, trying to act like he hadn't behaved like an animal a few moments ago. He turned slightly, drawing in a controlled breath, as if the air itself might cleanse the impurity of such an idea.

Then the flashbacks came. Guilt consuming him. His life had always been easy. He had not been driven toward the priesthood by desperation or lack. His family had been well-provided for, his parents both respected physicians whose stability afforded them comfort, whose diligence had secured their future so that they were able to buy several properties and businesses.

His siblings had followed paths equally esteemed, one within medicine, the other within law. Each contributing to the world in ways easily recognized and rewarded.

And yet, he had chosen differently. He had given himself to the Church as an offering. All his life, he was respected and supported. He had been abstinent from the moment he entered seminary. He left all the earthly sins behind. Never again had he felt the need to sleep with anyone. He had even denied himself from pleasuring himself by hand unless he'd felt pain in his abdomen. But never again had he lusted after anyone… until Felix came to his life. The pretty face he longed for and the voice that sent shivers to his spine.

Felix stirred faintly, a tremor passing his body that drew Hyunjin's attention back. Without allowing himself too much thought, he reached forward and removed the wet towel, placing the back of his hand against Felix’s forehead, confirming what he had already suspected… the fever remained.

He didn't know what possessed him that night as his fingers moved on its own accord. Two of them trespassed Felix's slightly parted lips, sliding inside, past his tongue until he reached the back of the throat. He was testing the boy's gag reflex as he swallowed hard. Imagining his shaft was the one fucking his mouth.

His pants felt crowded as his member twitched, throbbing harder. He could already feel his pre-cum seeping out. He moaned as he fingered Felix's mouth, the boy's saliva acting as lubricant, making it easier for him to slide in and out. He shook his head as he fought with his thoughts. Fuck his mouth, Hyunjin. He led you on anyway.

He was long gone as he pulled his pants down, his smooth crown replacing his fingers as he loomed over, knees around Felix's shoulders. He knew in his heart that whatever he was feeling should just be fleeting, something he could just shut out altogether. But he cannot.

Most importantly, he knew that his God was watching him from above, abusing an innocent parishioner who had just trusted him to be the vessel of the Lord. He didn't care. He would ask forgiveness anyway. And he would receive it, his God was graceful.

And Felix was just lying there like a doll. All pretty and just taking whatever Hyunjin gave him. He thrusted, hips slowly pushing deep. It was too warm, his breath was so hot around his cock. Tongue so soft and wet. Hyunjin let out a guttural sound, beastly and ravenous. It was burning hot inside, if Hell felt like that, Hyunjin didn't mind burning.

"Fuck! Felix! Ughh—Just this once… please… just once!" He pounded his throat, abusing his mouth again and again like this was his last dance on earth. Hips moving frantically, like he was chasing something he should not in the first place. His cock bulging against Felix's throat every time he pushed too far. The unconscious boy just laid there, getting violated without a chance of complaining. All he did was receive the massive cock of the priest. Hyunjin deluded himself that this was not a heavy sin. That fucking a mouth was not as severe as fucking an ass. "Lord, please forgive me. For I cannot stop myself—hmmm—for I should have known better."

He looked down, Felix's pretty face getting fucked by him gave him more excitement, his length was at its hardest. He looked like an angel. It was disturbing. He then grabbed the blond hair as he pushed deeper, forcing his way in. Hyunjin gritted his teeth as he groaned, loud. "My child, swallow everything… Ughhhgh—" And with that, he came.

With his chest's fast rise and fall, he slowly removed himself. Smirking with satisfaction, his cum spilling from Felix's mouth, lips… and down to his chin. Like an insane person, he wiped all his creamy thick cum back to Felix's mouth. "I said, swallow everything… you're so stubborn even when you are asleep," he inserted his fingers again, forcing his cum down the throat as he pinched Felix's button nose.

And of course, Felix almost felt like drowning as he coughed. Hyunjin sat beside him as he cupped the blond's face. "Shhhh… it's okay. You are okay, pretty angel."

Felix then held Hyunjin's forefinger with his small hand. "Cold… I'm cold." he murmured in his sleep.

Against his better judgment, after putting his pants again, Hyunjin lay beside him. He should have stopped there. What he had just done was wrong, it was beyond what a monster could do. However, he justified it in silence. Telling himself that the shared warmth of a hug might ease the fever, that proximity might offer some small relief to a body struggling against illness, against the cold. It was a stupid excuse after fucking his mouth.

When he drew Felix closer, one arm sliding under Felix's neck, the younger man responded instinctively, folding into him with a quiet desperation that seemed entirely unguarded. Felix’s hands rested weakly against his chest, his face finding its place near Hyunjin’s neck, breath warm and uneven against his skin.

Hyunjin exhaled and his chest tightened with a quiet, suffocating shame as he held Felix close, the warmth of his body both comfort and condemnation. This closeness, this longing, this lust was everything he had vowed to renounce, everything the Church had taught him to resist.

"Stop it. You are a priest, Hyunjin…" he gritted his teeth, reminding himself. He was a servant, a man who had vowed to turn away from this very kind sin he was fighting ever since, this homosexuality, that now consumed him.

And yet he could not let go. “Enough Hyunjin…” he whispered, voice breaking beneath the weight of his own conscience. But he embraced Felix tighter. “This is fucked up… I am Yours, Lord—I have given my life to You.”

But Felix, fragile and fever-warm in his arms, felt devastatingly real. His cock growing hard again, slightly pressing against Felix's, who was unaware of every offensive, lewd behavior Hyunjin displayed, making his devotion tremble.

“I am about to sin again,” he murmured, eyes closing tightly. “Forgive me… just once more, God. Please, just tonight. Let me have Felix. Allow me to be vulnerable, to be tempted. I am just a human. I will be gentle, I promise. I will not hurt him anymore.” He leaned down and pressed a trembling kiss against Felix’s forehead, as though it were still innocent, still forgivable.

He pulled slightly just to remind himself that the person who gave him butterflies in his stomach the first time he saw him in his Mass was real, with closed eyes, freckled cheeks and beautiful lips. The person who he had yearned to see every single day since the day he laid his eyes on him. The person who he fucked in the mouth. The person who brought this insanity upon him.

“Felix, you are far too trusting. Have you always been this easy? Men can take advantage of you, like this…” Hyunjin murmured under his breath as his hand slid down Felix's pajama, his fore and middle fingers pushing through Felix's tight ass, trespassing, then feeling the warm insides, as he pushed it even farther. Felix didn't even react and Hyunjin's shaft twitched, he wondered how far Felix could take a cock. "Lord Jesus, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner," he whispered as he moved his hand away from his ass. He fondled the blond's small limp dick, the skin there also burning hot, Felix slightly whimpered with the touch. "You are too sick, I am giving you the grace not to get abused in the ass."

The trembling of Felix's body did not cease, and for a moment, Hyunjin allowed his hold to tighten and pumped him more. Felix slowly got hard, still mumbling incoherent words. Hyunjin lowered his face and gave Felix a brief kiss. "Even if you already came, you still get hard. You like this, huh? You keep moaning, my child…"

Then Hyunjin shifted and soon hovered, his damp hair falling down as he licked on Felix's neck. His soft tongue glided from the collar bone up to the jaw, tracing the porcelain smooth skin. He was tempted again to leave a mark, just to prove that Felix was now his, but he controlled himself and sucked on Felix's ear instead.

"Hnggg—ti—tickles…" Felix small voice left his parted lips, then coughed softly, as his body jerked when Hyunjin had lifted Felix's shirt, fingers pinching his pink tiny nipple. Even his nipples are pretty. Hyunjin got even more aroused, feeling the pants getting tighter. "Hmmm—I… Hm…" Felix could only moan, breath heavy as Hyunjin lowered his head, plump lips finding the erected nipple.

His sloppy tongue lapped the nipple, sucking the hard bud gently, making sure everything would be just a clean skin without any bite or kiss mark in the morning. The skin was so hot, exactly how a sick person's would be. But Hyunjin was already far too deranged. He couldn't pull away, he was already lost, already preparing a week of repentance. A week of punishing himself. 

God will still forgive me, I am His son. 

He was sorry to God. But he was not sorry to Felix as he believed they were just both sinful creatures. As though Felix was the lucky one, for Hyunjin had been gentle to him this time. And if the heavens did not accept his apologies, he would settle with whatever the consequences would be.

“Would you let me fuck you? You should, you are a slut, Felix…” he whispered to his ear, the question spoken so softly it barely disturbed the silence as he took Felix's pajama off to his knees, revealing a milky white pair of legs and hard member. "But you're ill, so I will spare you." Felix answered only with a faint, muddled sound, something between a whimper and breath with ever stroke of his dick.

And that was enough. Enough to halt him entirely. Enough to remind him, with quiet severity, of the boundary he was willing to cross.

"Lord, I have sinned against you and am not worthy to be called your child…" he turned Felix over, face pressed down against the soft pillow. Felix's bottom was exposed. He had a perky butt, perfect in shape as it reminded Hyunjin his favorite fruit, a peach. His hand squeezed one of its cheeks as he lowered his head, sniffing Felix, feeling ecstatic with how turned on he was.

"Please, be merciful to me, a sinner…" He indulged himself, sucking Felix's hole. He let go of a loud throaty groan. Hyunjin ate the blond's ass like a starved man who had forgotten how the real heaven tasted. His tongue tried to enter the crevice. He couldn't help himself, couldn't believe he was kneeling not to pray for the Creator but to worship a whore's ass.

Felix's body shook, moaning softly against the pillow. His hands were grabbing the sheets, hips slightly moving, as if he was trying to rub his dick against his mattress. Even if Felix was asleep, his body had been so sensitive and pliant. He was definitely a Heaven sent perfect sex doll.

Hyunjin couldn't take it anymore as he lowered his pants, just enough to free his throbbing huge cock again. And with Hyunjin's twisted belief that he would only fulfill the carnal sin if he practiced sodomy, he opted for the second best thing. Felix's thigh gap. You will forgive me Lord, right? I will not fuck this pretty little lamb in his hole. I will just rub my cock between his legs.

Then he spat on his shaft, pumping it several times before he positioned himself. He moved Felix's face sideways, to make sure that he could get a glimpse of that pretty face while exploiting him.

"Jesus, I come before You and repent of my sinful ways…" Hyunjin began slipping his hard length past Felix's thighs, rubbing against Felix's balls. All that Hyunjin could taste was the unexplainable delight, of how pleasurable it was to perform this sinful act with another human, a very pretty delicious human, rather than just himself. He almost forgot how paradise used to feel.

Through the silence and the wave of another loud patter of rain, Felix spoke gibberrishly in his sleep, "Father Hwang… Hnggg—" Oh, so you think about me in your sleep.

However, Hyunjin won't stick it in Felix's clenching hole, as fucked up he might have been, he would make sure not to leave any proof that this ever happened. He wanted to avoid Felix in the morning, confronting him with accusations of whatever blasphemous thing he had done for tonight. So he just pushed Felix's head with his hand as he continued thrusting, inconsiderate to Felix's own pleasure.

"I hand over to You my heart infected with the evils of taking advantage of Felix, for he has seduced me, that I end up sinning… Ughhh—fuck—Felix, oh God…." Hyunjin's pupils had dilated, this had been both his Heaven and Hell, surely reminiscent of how the angels felt when they earned their wings… the spit slick sound of his massive cock sliding freely and the slap of his abdomen against Felix's fat ass were the only proof that he was committing this crime. He grabbed Felix's slim waist, nails unwillingly leaving crescents, aggressively hammering harder.

"Root out the ties that bind me to these sins and cleanse my heart with Your Most Precious Blood." He prayed with his lustful thrusts, shivering with pleasure, like he finally learned that Felix was the only sin he could not let go of, that his fear finally came. Finally learned that he could no longer control his foolish self, all the things he worked hard for will vanish… all because of Felix.

Felix, his angel, his muse, his guilty pleasure.

Hyunjin was close, he moaned embarrassingly as he leaned down, lips reaching for felix. Sucking the corner of it. He pounded Felix's thighs mercilessly, knowing it won't leave any trace tomorrow. Felix was the epitome of immorality, like he was resurrected from the pits of Hell. He couldn't believe fucking his thighs was this delectable, what more fucking his tiny hole? Finally, when he released his sinful cum, he collided against Felix's small frame. "Hnggggg—fucking delicious, Felix…"

He sighed and completed his prayer, "Jesus, I believe you love me. Please forgive me for my sins. Help me to be a better person. Amen."

Hyunjin stilled, the weight of his own crime settling heavy beneath him. He failed as he chose to move further, to act upon what lingered dangerously something irreversible.

"Thank you for lending me your body tonight, my little lamb…" He murmured as he laid again beside Felix. He stared at his serene surreal beauty, tucking some loose blond behind his ear. "Why are you this beautiful?" His thumb caressed his cheek, convincing himself this will never happen again but contrastingly, he kissed Felix's cheek, then his button nose, then lastly his lips. Still, he remained where he was, allowing time to pass in silence, holding Felix only until the tension in his body gradually eased, until his breathing steadied.

He shook his head as he held Felix tighter, as if the act alone could silence everything inside him... The doubt, the hunger, the quiet rebellion clawing its way up his throat. It was wrong. He knew it was wrong. Every second that Felix remained in his arms felt like another sin etched permanently into his soul, something no amount of prayer could ever wash clean.

Yet, he could not let go.

His lips trembled against Felix's hair, a touch so soft it almost felt like a lie. "Forgive me, my child," he whispered, the words tasting bitter, sacred and profane all at once. "I will let you go. Please, stop coming to me… to church. Don't look for me." The plea broke in the middle, splintering into something desperate.

He had said those words before, in sermons, in confessions, in quiet guidance offered to others. The words detachment, devotion and discipline. He had taught them like doctrine, like it was something simple and humanly possible. But now, the sin was lying before him in the shape of Felix, warm and breathing, real in his arms. And suddenly, it felt impossible and unbearable.

His heart felt like it was being torn open by his own sinful, criminal hands.

Somewhere deep inside, beneath layers of memorized scripture and practiced restraint, something began to unravel. He had given his life to God. He had knelt before the altar and offered everything… his body, his future, his capacity to love. He had believed with a certainty that once felt unshakable, that it was the holiest thing he could ever do.

However… now…

Now he wondered if he had misunderstood everything. If he regretted choosing this path of priesthood. If this ache, this overwhelming, consuming pull toward Felix, was truly temptation… or something crueler. Something placed inside him only to be denied.

His fingers tightened against Felix’s back, clutching the fabric like a drowning man. He wanted to pray again, but the words refused to come. What prayer could possibly justify this? What confession could contain it? He had prayed all night but still, nothing felt like God would listen.

He swallowed hard, his voice breaking into something quieter, almost childlike. “I failed him,” he murmured, though he wasn’t sure if he meant God… or himself. “Every time you come near me, Felix, I forget who I am supposed to be.”

He hated it. How desperate he was, how possessive, how human.

He hated how his hands refused to let go, how his body betrayed every promise he had ever made. He hated how he took advantage of him. He hated how, for a fleeting, reckless moment, he imagined abandoning it all… walking away from the church, from the life he had built brick by brick, just to stay here, just to choose Felix. Just to be chosen.

But reality came crashing down just as quickly. Felix’s heart did not belong to him. That truth burned more than any divine punishment ever could.

A hollow laugh almost escaped him, choked down into silence. How foolish. How utterly pathetic of him, to stand on the edge of damnation for someone who would never even turn back for him. It was clear, Felix's heart belonged to Changbin. He had said how much he still loved him.

"I was never meant to be yours," he whispered, the words finally pulling away from his chest like something dying. "I am only meant to guide you… nothing more."

For one last time, his embrace felt like the last thing he could offer. He heaved a deep sigh as his grip loosened, trembling.

This was his cross to bear.

“May you recover soon,” he said quietly as he planted the last gentle kiss on Felix's forehead before pushing himself off the bed. "This is just a dream. Sleep well, my Felix."

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