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.He exhaled hard and recoiled at smelling the beer on his breath.Thou hidden source of calm repose, he thought, focusing on the hymn.Thou all-sufficient love divine.David hadn’t even looked back at him.my help and refuge from my foes.What did men pay to do to him? Have him swallow their cock? Have him take it inside him? What would that man in the bar do with him?.secure I am if thou art mine.As youths, he and David had clumsily explored, trying to work out how two bodies could fit together.Their explorations had been little more than awkward reaches, grasping at things they could not possibly have understood, as young as they were.At thirteen and fifteen, they’d groped each other.Compared.Crowded each other against walls and rubbed close, seeking that sizzling friction.They’d kissed.Tobias had always initiated the kisses, hadn’t he? Where had he learned to do such a thing?And lo, from sin and grief and shame.He didn’t know.Good God, he didn’t know.Only that when he saw David, that was the first thing he thought of.And the last.David’s soft mouth, so pretty, so pink, like the petals of an easily bruised flower.It wasn’t fair, that he had such a mouth.Why had God designed him that way? A born tempter fallen into his natural trade.Irresistible.If he weren’t so attractive, then maybe his power to call men to sin would be tempered.God had known his path, had known what sort of man he would come to be, and yet had still bestowed him with that devastating beauty.Was it a test?If so, then every punter who’d put a shilling in David’s hand had failed it.And so had Tobias.Failed as a youth, and failed now, too, to be sitting in the house of God and thinking of David pressed up against a brick wall, arse thrust out with a man rutting behind him as he made all those sweet sounds Tobias still remembered from their youth.But huskier now, the noises of a man, not a boy.Tobias was failing now because the thought of it was making him harden.He was failing especially because it wasn’t just lust.Had never been just lust.Lust was what David had taught Tobias.But love had been what Tobias had sought to teach David.“I hide me.” Tobias curled his hands on his knees, fighting his body.Fighting his mind and its treachery.“I hide me, Jesus, in thy name.”Pray for me.Don’t let me fall like he has.He couldn’t stop seeing it, now that he had allowed himself a glimpse: the man from the bar holding David against the brick, touching his cool cheek, sliding fingers into his mouth as he rocked David forward with powerful, punishing thrusts of his hips.And David loved it; David made noise for him, too—cried out, his knees buckling, when the man whispered in his ear.Tobias didn’t want to hear what he was saying.Tobias didn’t want to imagine this.But he was imagining it.Except now it wasn’t the man from the pub pressed against David.It was Tobias.Tobias’s rigid prick stuffed inside David’s cleft, pounding away furiously.Tobias’s hands pinning David’s to the wall.No, Tobias’s hands covering David’s, their fingers sweetly interlaced.And then David would turn his head on a moan and Tobias would teach him a kiss—a passionate, eager kiss, loving but determined, pressed on his mouth from over his shoulder and jolted by the frantic movements of their bodies.Tobias was drunk.That was how he rationalised it when he let one hand slide up his thigh, when he undid his trousers and pushed that hand inside to wrap around the hot length of his prick.It was good, instantly good.The ruin of him was between his fingers and he bent forward over it, bracing his hand on the pew.He could practically feel the lingering rhythm of his and David’s imaginary lovemaking, and he struggled to follow it, his bottom lip seized hard between his teeth.No, no, no, this was wrong, this made him only slightly better than David.Maybe it even made him worse than David, who at least had the decency to carry out his business in squalid back alleys.Here Tobias was, in a church, reveling in his own sin of thought.God help him.From over his shoulder, a silky voice said, “God hears your prayers, boy, but he won’t help you.”“Blasphemy!” Tobias shouted, momentarily forgetting that he had a hand around his cock.“Yes,” the voice said, amused.“Quite.”Tobias came back to himself and whirled in the pew, yanking his hand from his trousers.The man who sat behind him was thin but tall; his legs hardly fit comfortably in the pew, bent as they were.He peered at Tobias with keen, dark eyes.His face was smooth and young
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