deocorate

Filth and Windsom

Mickey was running. That fucking cop was after him and his breath was running low. Thank God he could see an alf-open door at the end of the alley where he had just turned. Opening the anonymous door there where three steps, a strange smells of flowers and incense mixed with something that looked like wax. Mickey cautiously climbed the stairs to arrive in a small room containing a trash, a sink, some candles. Then another door. He could hear some voices from the other side and, before he was able to turn around, someone appeard from the door.

“What are you doing here? The sacristy is this way. Follow me”.

Left without words, Mickey was taken by the arm and brought in another room by this little bald man, dressed in an old grey suit. The man handed him a bag containing some clothes and hastened to go out, muttering something. Taken aback, Mickey hadn’t noticed the distint talk in the room, or the strange deocor. Until he raised his head and focused on the space around himself.

A big wooden table was in the middle of the room, under the wrought iron chandelier. A stone thorne crowned with small incisions on the one hand, on the other a big stained glass mosaic window. Then.
Priests. The room was full of priests, at least a dozen, all wearing a cassock and chattering about the Mass that was about to begin. Apparently, it was the Bishop the one who would celebrated and, for some strange case, the man that had taken him here thoguht he was a priest too, judging by the cassock staying in the bag.

He was leaving. He definitely was leaving. It was quite terrifying and it made no sense to be there, at least not yet. Just at the opposite side of the room, here he is. Red fire hair, pale skin covered by freckles, incredibly green eyes. Ian Gallagher.

God, he had missed him. Ian was talking with a couple of priest, laughing and smiling at something. The sound of his laughter was barely perceptible.
He took a bit of time to look at the other boy, the light curve of his face, a little beard on it. He was beautiful.

Ian hadn’t notice him.

Mickey hadn’t see him in a couple of years and he definitely didn’t expect to see him as a priest. Not him, not Ian. Mickey knew him too well to know that things weren’t as they seemed. Ian was gay, Mickey knew that. Ian was his sister’s best friend and he had accidentally learned that eavesdropping a conversation between the two of them.
The fact is that Mickey was gay too, and he had been quite happy knowing that the guy who happend to be his biggest crush was gay too.
Unfortunately, Ian left for the army shortly after while Mickey was too scared of his homophobic father, so he let him go. Now Ian was there. A fucking priest, but he was there.

He was not leaving anymore. Instead, he put his cassock, being careful to cover his tattooed knuckles between the wide sleeves, following all the priests procedeed to get in line. Come out of the sacristy, they arranged themselves along the apse, in a semicircle, while the bishop followed them and positioned himself in front of the cathedra.
The church was a lighted but cold place, with walls old and thik and a series of columns that divide it in three naves.

Mickey was right in front of him when their eyes met. Ian’s mouth opened slightly and he let out an imperceptible sound. On the other hand, Mickey was paralyzed. The only thing he could do was bite his bottom lip aggressively, a gesture that made Ian gest out of his head.

During the enitre Mass theey ahd exchanged glances, rainsing eyebrows here and there. At the moment of the Communion Bread they both moved slowly and sensually their tongues, savoring something that was actualy tasteless.

At the end of the Mass all were quick to come out, people and priest. Except for Ian and Mickey. Mickey was the first to approach.

“So, Father Gallagher, uh?” A laugh escaped from Ian’s lips, a slight blush forming on his cheeks.

“Fuck off, Father Milkovich! You can discover your hands, now. I guess you still have those tattooed knuckles”

The fuck hand was lifted in front of his face, ben visible to the other guy convering MIckey’s smile.

After that, everything happend veri quickly. Ian cloesd the distance pressing his mouth on Mickey’s, parting s little his lips, savouring him, something he wanted to do a long time ago. Mickey was already panting, his tongue was slowly insinuating in Ian’s mouth, with his hands caressing the skin on his neck and his hips, while pushing him towards the cathedra.

Both still in their cassock, they had a large wooden rosary hanging from the hips, not far from them there was a large candle. Ian reversed their position and pushed the black haired man on the cold marble slab, while his hands were palming him under the guise. Their breathing were laboured, their hands were cold in contact with the marble and then on their respective bodies.

Mickey was caressing Ian’s face, sucking on his neck, tracing long lines on his troath with his tongue, both of them already hard and with their dick pressing in their pants. Ian’s hands unbottoned his jeans, taking his dick and started stroking Mickey hard. Even if his moans were pretty quitely, the thick walls of the church were echo their sweets sounds.

Every breath, every sound, every moan was amplified. That was turning them more on than before. Mickey pulled him to himself and sucked hard on his collarbone, leaving a mark while his pants were completely off of him and he twitched when his skin was in completely contact with the cold of the cathedra, but he didn’t mind that much.

Ian was already enetring one finger on his hole and he was already waiting for more, until Ian decided to drop on his knees, giving kiss to Mickey’s inner thigh. But then an idea came to him. He looked up on his left side to find the candle, still lit from the Mass. He got up a couple of instant only to take it, and then return to his original spot. Mickey noticed, knowing that something was going to happend but he didn’t care.

He looked up at Mickey, searching for consent and, when he got a nodded he continued. A few drops of wax were paid on his inner tight, while his enitre body was shaking for the thin pain. Ian’s lips were resting on the cathedra. After a few moments, he procedeed to remove the wax and kiss the spot softly with his cold lips.

“Fuck, Ian. Do that again.” And he did. He repeated the proceedings another couple of time, on the other tight, every time kissing gently the wounded time, then he started move his tongue in and out of his hole. Mickey took his hand and raised it into is mouth, sucking greedily his fingers. That was a clear call for Ian to switch them together with his tongue, occasionall brushing his sweet spot.

Stopping Ian, Mickey gout out from the cathedra and positioned himself between Ian legs, his head under the guise as he started to unbottoning Ian’s pants and take his lenght in his mouth, giving long licking from the bottom to the top, dwelling on the sensitive head. Ian pulled back his head for a moment, while his hands moved the guise to look at Mickey, caressing his neck, hair, face. Hard strokes were moving from Mickey’s right hand, his tongue crawling on his balls. Their eyes were locked.

Taking him by the shoulders, Ian can’t do it anymore.
“C'mere”, and with a loud pop that thundered thourgh the church, Mickey’s lips left Ian’s dick to return on Ian’s. Returning to the original position, Mickey with his back on the cathedra and Ian on top of him, they started making out again.
At this point, Ian threw out a little bottle of lube, apparently appeared from nowhere, and slicked his fingers and cock before to line it with Mickeys hole.

Initially he pushed in only his head, sweeping Mickey.

“Jesus Christ. Move on, Father!”

Ian laughed thinkin’ at how Mickey was so needy, staying another couple of moments before pushing all the way in without warning. Mickey gasped loud, resound again all over them. Bottoming out, he keep a regualr and rhythm, lovering again to kiss allo over Mickey’s. The wooden rosary was gaving raps slamming on the edge of the cathedra, enunciating even better Ian’s thrusts. Everything was more empathized by their crying, including words like “Jesus, God, Christ”, profaning even more everything.

His thrusts increased, judging by the thud while he pulled Mickey more up, changing his angle, brushing his cock on Mickey’s prostate. Both sweating and screaming, they came together with a loud moan, as Ian collapsed on top of Mickey. Their warm bodies twitched again on the marble, then Mickey speaks, looking a little worried.

“The fuck, Gallagher? You aren’t really a priest, are you?”

Ian first smiles, than laugh, harder.

“Fuck off, Mickey. So aren’t you. Sooner or later we will explain to each other, now let’s get the fuck out of here, before someone find us”

Mickey grinned, as they set their clothes on and take off the cassocks, only that Mickey decided to keep the big wooden rosary.

“The rosary? Seriously, Mick? What will you do with it?”

Mickey flushed, embarassed.

“Ay, Gallagher. Never heard of Ben Wa Beads? They’re petty much identical, except for the cross in the end, but we’ll take care of that”

A big laugh rumble in the cold church, while Ian and Mickey where going out from the massive doorway.