Dusk settled over the town in a soothing veil, marking the beginning of rest. Every decent resident was already at home with their family, preparing for sleep. Felix was supposed to do the same. Yet minute after minute passed, and he still couldn’t make himself rise from the bench in the garden and step into his own house, where a warm light burned in the kitchen. Because he knew who had turned on that light. He knew who was waiting for him inside. And he had no desire to face that person. For the first time in a long while, he no longer felt safe in his own home.

  Felix sighed and looked at the stone wall of the church before him. Well, it was clearly getting colder, and since he had no other choice… He didn’t even notice how he climbed the steps and slowly pushed the door open, stepping once more into the familiar walls. The church’s main hall was dark. Moonlight filtered through the tall windows in thin, faint beams, but that hardly made things easier. His footsteps echoed between the stone walls, hanging in the air. Felix breathed out softly, lifting his eyes to the crucifix.

  Had Jesus feared inheriting the sins of His followers? Had He feared becoming like those condemned by God?

  Though… hardly anything like that could have threatened Him. The Lord would have forgiven His own Son.

  Suddenly the silence was cut by a sharp clatter — metal ornaments, a bottle hitting the floor. Felix flinched and turned around. There, between the pews, in the evening gloom, he saw a figure. His eyes hadn’t yet adjusted, but even without light he could make out the broad shoulders and the toned arms of a man who clearly tortured himself with training. Felix froze for a heartbeat before pulling himself together, straightening his posture.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Oh—” The man turned, and Felix almost recoiled from the familiar, mocking voice.

  Seriously, was he following him?

  “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice me!”

  “Elías,” Bauer exhaled, “what are you doing here?”

  “Sleeping, of course. What else?” The quick words came out as if he were explaining to a child why the sky was blue. “Free will and all that — I can choose where I sleep. Great weather, by the way! And what brings you here, Father Felix?”

  “I serve God in this church.”

  “And the Lord doesn’t let you off duty even at night?” Elías smirked, rubbing his nose.

  Felix fell silent. He truly had no reason to be in the church at this hour. It had always been his refuge, his true sanctuary. Only here could he fully feel God’s love and surrender to it.

  And yet — who was this boy to judge him? Even his wife never pried into his life the way this insolent brat did.

  “I forgot something in Katarina’s classroom,” he lied plainly. “Rest, Elías. But do not defile God’s walls. Remember, the Lord sees everything. Good night.”

  Felix crossed the hall quickly, trying to hide in the small corridor that led from the nave to the classroom, as though he might be unreachable there.

  But Elías was faster.

  Shouting “where are you going?” he leapt from his spot, springing after the priest like a hunter chasing prey. He vaulted over the pews and caught up far too quickly. Felix tried to slip behind the door, but he didn’t make it in time. Elías followed, slammed the door shut behind them, blocking any chance of escape, and in a single step closed the distance between them. Bauer froze, unwilling to provoke the already dangerous young man.

  “Where are you going?” Elías repeated with a sly grin, gripping Felix by the wrist.

  Felix’s heart pounded wildly, drowning his thoughts. And those thoughts screamed at him to run — run as if he’d come face to face with a wild bear. Except this bear had a human mind. He would chase, find, and tear him apart. Tear him apart just like his previous victims, whose perfume still lingered faintly on his leather jacket.

  Would Felix’s scent end up there too?

  Yet here they were — not in a forest, but trapped between two closed doors in a narrow corridor. The cold wall behind him sent shivers down his spine, and he trembled. Elías still hadn’t released his wrist; his hold only tightened.

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  “Elías,” Felix began carefully, “let go.”

  “Don’t run from me, Father Felix,” Elías murmured, licking his lips again before suddenly pressing himself against him completely. He released Felix’s wrist only to wrap his arms around his waist, pulling him into an embrace far too strong for such a deceptively fragile frame. “I’m sad, padre.”

  Felix stilled. He couldn’t even recall the last time someone had held him like this. Words were useless — and Elías didn’t want them anyway. The touch was new and disarming, but Felix couldn’t simply push away someone who needed comfort. Not when the boy clung to him so desperately, as if no one else in the world would listen.

  Felix had heard countless confessions, had seen many tears and comforted many souls — but why did these simple words about sadness trigger something so strange inside him? As if his sadness was different. As if his sadness required a special kind of comfort.

  Felix chose not to dwell on it. He carefully placed his hands on Elías’s back, stroking him slowly, letting him bury his face against his neck. It was… unexpectedly pleasant. Elías always radiated heat, no matter how one touched him, while Felix was always cold. Even now, chilled by the evening air, he found warmth in Elías’s body — warmth unlike anything else. He wanted to stay close, to allow any touch that gave him that heat.

  And so he didn’t notice the first kiss on his neck, just above the collar of his cassock.

  Then another.

  And another…

  “Elías…” Felix tried to pull away, pushing at his shoulders, but he couldn’t create even a sliver of distance. “You’re crossing a line!”

  “I know.” Elías only tightened his grip, denying him any escape. “I know, padre — and I don’t give a damn.”

  The kisses trailed down his neck, lower and lower. Hands slid to his waist, fingers feverishly unfastening the bottom buttons of his cassock. Elías nipped at his skin and dropped to his knees. The bite jolted Felix’s thoughts into chaos. Strong fingers dug into his lower stomach with near-violent pressure, stealing his breath. Felix stared down in shock, trembling with terror — because Elías was on his knees before him, looking up with a filthy, cunning smile as his hands toyed with the waistband of Felix’s trousers.

  His inner voice screamed that this was wrong — that he had to run. Run back into the church, or into his house just steps away.

  But his body refused to move.

  Elías unfastened his trousers and dragged his nails along his skin almost sharply. Almost — because he was still holding himself back.

  “Elías…” Felix’s voice trembled, barely audible. Fear twisted his face.

  “Please. Don’t… Not in the church. Please don’t do this. I’m begging you…”

  “Oh, padre,” Elías laughed softly, “you’re such a liar.”

  And then his head disappeared beneath the black fabric of the cassock.

  A hot tongue dragged from the base upward along Felix’s still-soft cock, then wrapped around it with warm lips. The soft flesh felt strange in his mouth, yet in its own way pleasant. Fun to squeeze between his lips, to roll against his tongue. And then — there it was — the first flicker of arousal.

  Elías nearly laughed aloud with delight, but when he glanced up, he momentarily lost his breath.

  Felix was shaking.

  Utterly.

  He looked like a man desperately trying to wrench himself back into reality and failing every time. His fingers fumbled weakly through the beads of his rosary, and his gaze drifted somewhere far away, unfocused. His lips moved just barely — but in the profound silence of the corridor, the words were unmistakable.

  “My God…” Felix whispered. “I repent of my sins with all my heart…”

  Elías smirked and slowly trailed his lips lower, never stopping the movements of his tongue until he felt the flesh harden fully inside his mouth. As soon as it did, he picked up the pace. Saliva escaped the corners of his lips, adding slick, wet sounds with every motion.

  Unfortunately, the sounds were coming from him alone — Felix remained nearly silent.

  But Elías never doubted his own skill. He wrapped his lips more tightly around the cock, drew in air, and created pressure — a deep, wet vacuum.

  Felix’s prayer faltered. His breath hitched.

  “Choosing evil… mmh… and failing to do good, I have sinned against You — whom I must love above all…”

  Elías teased the head with his tongue, stroked the shaft with a loose ring of fingers — enough to arouse, but not enough to satisfy. Felix responded just as he hoped: a small thrust of the hips, a subconscious plea for more.

  Who was Elías to deny him?

  “I want to repent… with Your help… and never— nnh… indulge in sin again…”

  The last word dissolved in a sharp pant when Elías suddenly — even surprising himself — swallowed him to the base. He relaxed his throat without struggle, taking him in fully. His face flushed from the pressure, but it wasn’t nearly enough to make him stop.

  He moved faster, tightened the seal of his lips, increased the pressure, dragged his tongue along every vein, teased the slit with precise strokes.

  “In His name… My God… have mercy…”

  Felix’s plea — whether to God or to Elías — remained unclear, because he never finished the prayer.

  A violent tremor seized him. His knees weakened. And with a broken moan, he came into Elías’s mouth. Felix nearly collapsed, catching himself on the wall, clinging to it as if losing his footing meant losing his dignity altogether.

  Elías rose slowly, pulled up Felix’s trousers, and buttoned them. With a wicked smile curling his lips, he let the mixture of cum and saliva roll on his tongue before opening his mouth to show it — a silent, obscene showcase of his “work.”

  Then he swallowed.

  And that seemed to snap Felix out of his trance.

  A cold sweat broke across his skin. His face twisted in genuine disgust.

  He recoiled from Elías so fast it was as if he’d been hit with the stench of something rotten. His hands trembled violently; nausea climbed up his throat.

  “Father Felix—” Elías began, but he didn’t finish.

  “Silence…” Felix’s look was full of terror — and loathing.

  “You are worse than an animal. Get out, Elías.”

  But Felix himself no longer wished to stay here either.

  He spun around and fled from the church almost at a run, covering his mouth with his hand, fighting to keep from vomiting.