Page 33 of Gay for Pray
Afterward, some day, when I’m ready, I’ll attempt to explain all this to Nick. I’m not sure it’ll ever sound sane for me to hook up with a future priest who’s so deep in the closet his first time literally happened in a closet, but that’s a challenge I’ll have to deal with later.
For now, all I want is another chance to get my hands on my choir boy.
Chapter Eighteen
Theodore
MY HEART TAPS AT my throat as I rap on Jude’s door on Friday night. What am I doing? I smooth my hands over my jeans. Jeans, not slacks. I’m trying, but I’ve never really thought about how I look or how I’m dressed. All I had available for tonight was jeans and a T-shirt with an old cartoon on it, which feels way too casual for this…date? Hookup? Am I doing a hookup? With aguy? I fidget, questioning everything from my clothes to my hair to my motivations for being here to my entire life up to this point. I’m the son of a deacon. I’m supposed to become a priest. I can’t be gay. It isn’t part of the plan.
Then Jude opens the door.
Every stray thought flees when he grins at me with that easy, open smile of his. He also wears a T-shirt and jeans, but somehow his clothes fit him so much better than mine, showing off every lean line of his body.
He grabs my wrist so I can’t stand there gaping dumbly and yanks me into his dorm, throwing the door shut behind me. I’m a kite battered around by a breeze, and he’s holding the string. I go where he leads, which happens to be his bedroom.
He’s shoved the clothing on the floor into one untidy pile since the last time I was here, but the desk is just as chaotic as it was before. A wave of comfort washes over me the moment I cross the threshold into this hallowed space, the place where he rescued me, the place where I first dared to kiss him.
This time, he kisses me.
He turns toward me after a step and pulls me against his body, catching me by the shoulders so he can reach up to kiss me. Some instinct I’ve never known existed brings my hands to his waist as his lips caress mine. Even through his shirt, I feel the suggestion of the slight curve of his body, and it lights me up like a Christmas tree. All of the guilt melts away, however briefly.
Jude’s hands slide along my shoulders to my neck, letting him pull me more firmly against his mouth. We haven’t spoken a single word, yet we both know exactly where this is going. As unthinkable as that is. As much as it’s definitely not supposed to happen.
I’ll pray about it later,I promise myself.
I’ve been trying my hardest not to think about it, not to reflect on the sins I’m openly embracing. I’ve been going about my life as though nothing has changed, and in most ways, nothing has. I don’t feel like a different person. I keep waiting for the moment the lightning will strike and I won’t recognize myself in the mirror, but it isn’t happening. When I shave my face in the morning, it’s regular old me in the reflection. I always thought it would, I don’t know,feellike something to realize you’re gay, but so far it just feels like…me.
Well, me but really, really good.
Prickles tingle through my body as Jude’s tongue invades my mouth. Every breath brings me a warm, light scent that’s quickly becoming so sweetly familiar. If he let go of me, I might float out of my shoes and then right out of his window.
He pulls away slowly, smiling and groaning, chewing on his bottom lip in that way that makes me hot all over.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he says.
Peering down into his bright, eager eyes, there’s only one possible answer. “I’m glad too.” It’s true, despite everything that should be holding me back, and might hold me back comemorning.
His smile widens. “Good. You should be. There’s so much I want to do with you.”
His hand slithers down my body as he speaks, petting over my chest, then sneaking even lower. My cock plumps before he reaches it, but the way he palms over my pants instantly gets me harder. If I had any hope of denying why I’m here, it vanishes the second Jude touches me.
I’m desperate for him to undo my pants like he did last time, but instead he takes my hand and places it on his crotch. I need no further encouragement to mirror what he’s doing to me, and it’s a thrill when he hardens under my touch. Even my clumsy strokes are somehow enough for a guy who seems to know exactly who he is and what he wants in a way I haven’t in all my nineteen years.
Jude’s confidence is infectious. I stroke harder when he moans, then steel myself and pick at his fly. He doesn’t stop me, even when I pull down the zipper and reach into his pants. Just like that, I’m touching a cock again, his cock, and it’s hard and hot and heavy in my hand. I run my hand experimentally up and down it, feeling my way along while watching his face for clues as his eyes flutter shut and his breathing goes ragged.
“Fuck,” he sighs. “I want you to suck me so bad.”
This finally stops me in my tracks. “I’ve never done that before.”
He opens his eyes and smiles at me. “I know, and I won’t make you, but if you want to…”
I consider that for the first time in my entire life. Do I want to? Do I want another man’s cock in my mouth, filling me, hot and heavy and intruding on all my senses? Do I want to be on my knees for him?
My cock twitches, and the answer is clear.
“I want to try,” I say, “but if I’m doing it wrong…”
His smile twists with mirth. “You won’t do it wrong. Just follow my lead, okay?”
