Page 13 of Sinful Crimes for the Artistically Inclined
Joe put the cheese down. “Maybe we should call it a night.”
“Please don’t. Listen…” Joe listened patiently, but Percy didn’t know how to explain a thing. And a second later, to his great relief, his phone screamed so starkly that they both jumped.
It was, by that time, approaching four o’clock. The sun would rise soon, but for now, it was black and dark, and Percy didn’t hesitate. He made his way quickly across the room, and turned his back to Joe, speaking in a low tone. “Where? No, I can’t get there right now… I know it’s important… No… It’s none of your business what I’m doing… Leo… Shhh. I’ll come as soon as I can… It’s going to have to do, isn’t it?… I’m hanging up… Hanging up… Quiet… Hanging up now… Goodbye.”
Percy returned to his place as though nothing had happened.
Joe’s brain fizzled out the same thought, over and over.‘Don’t ask who Leo is. Don’t ask who Leo is. Don’t ask who Leo is.’“Who’s Leo?”
Stupid brain.
“He’s a colleague,” Percy replied with a touch of forbidding cool in his voice.
But Joe couldn’t help himself. “A colleague who calls you at four a.m.?”
“It’s not four a.m. in Paris.” Joe’s mind flipped to time zones, then was drawn back to skeletons with the scratching under the floorboards, then was ripped away by Percy, who grabbed his hand and said, “This is too much. We can’t talk here. Come.”
He took the cheese, Joe took the wine, Percy tapped out his code, and seconds later, they were back in Percy’s bedroom. Joe let him take the bottle, and he sat down on the edge of the bed.
“No,” said Percy. “Here.” He patted the pillow to his left.
So Joe took his place by Percy’s side, nervous, but he soon found the set-up was every bit as comfortable as it had looked. Except for Percy, tense next to him.
Percy rolled over towards Joe, platter between them, and, fiddling with cheese pairings, said, “I don’t think you can know how often I’ve daydreamed about this.”
“About cheese?”
Percy’s shoulders settled a little with his laugh, and his eyes took on an earnest gleam as he focused on Joe’s. “I’ve liked you for the longest time. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said that. I’m really happy you came tonight.”
And so the whirlpool coiled again, dragging Joe deeper.
But Percy continued, “That’s why we need a new rule.Please, nothing personal. Don’t ask how I’m feeling, don’t ask about any of it. This is why I can’t see you. I’m not capable of being anything to anyone right now. I’m turning over a day at a time. And I can’t talk about it. It’s just going to sit there, like a beast in the corner. If that bothers you, we won’t do this. We’ll call it off now. But you should know, you being here… It’s nice. I want that.” He glanced down at the platter. “And maybe you don’t like strong cheese. Not that I’d judge you for it?—”
“I love strong cheese,” Joe protested.
“You do?” Noisy heart, thumping against his ribs.
“I do.” But before he considered eating it, he said, “Wait. Wine first.” Percy remained on tenterhooks as Joe took his first sip, then rasped out, “Oh my god. What is this?” Another sip. “That’s gorgeous.”
“You like it?” He obviously did. The expression on his face was worth every cent of the five hundred or so dollars the bottle cost.
Joe pulled the glass away from his lips, staring at the liquid as though it were the Cullinan diamond. “How much did this cost?”
“A trifle,” Percy lied. “Cheese?”
Joe glanced at the Roquefort for maybe the fiftieth time, or at least, it felt that way to Percy. “Are you sure they go together? I don’t want to waste this.”
“Eat.” He shoved the food at Joe yet again, and finally, Percy got to see the whole-body melt of the person that had been Joe when Percy’s very best and strongest Roquefort settled on his tongue.
There was no faking it.
This was a man, Percy could clearly see, who felt sensations of pleasure just as deeply as he did. And quite suddenly, the strongest desire took hold of him to see that look on Joe’s face as close to permanently as possible. To verily drown him inchampagne. To take this priest and corrupt him in the most spectacular and delicious ways imaginable. “Joe?—”
Joe held up a hand. “I’m still recovering.”
And no wonder, subsisting on whatever pittance the Church saw fit to reward him with after he routinely risked his life trying to drive demons out of his parishioners’ bodies. It wasn’t enough to keep a man in good cheese, of that much, Percy was sure. He rushed to carve off another enormous piece of Roquefort, which he thrust towards Joe as soon as he opened his eyes. “So, how did you end up in the priesthood?”
There was a pause. Joe sipped his wine, and Percy got the feeling he was buying time. “Just one of those things,” was the answer that said nothing at all.
