Me and Mine
Author: Sarah Goodwin
Date: 2011-07-30T03:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Coming of Age; Fiction; Gay; Glbt; MM; Romance; Steamy
Description: When seventeen-year-old Jude Walker confesses to his priest that he’s gay, and in fact has an unhealthy attraction to the priest himself, the last thing he expects is compassion. Father Gray surprises him with his understanding and Jude accepts his offer of help in overcoming his condition. When Sebastian Gray extends an offer of help to a troubled teenager, the last thing he expects is that it is Jude that will save him. Yet Jude steadily breaks through the priest’s barriers, bringing him out of his self-imposed exile and into the world. As the two find surprising parallels between their live
Publisher: Amazon.com

Table of Contents

- Acknowledgements
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five

Acknowledgements

Acknowledgements go to my family, for putting up with the angry bear I become in writer mode, to my friend Vikkie for proofreading, advising and creating the magnificent cover art for this book, to Carrie Etter and the rest of the Creative Writing staff at Bath Spa University and to everyone who read and reviewed this story in its infancy (in particular BobbleHeadedJesus, who provided much needed support and humour).

I wouldn’t be taking this next step without you.

Chapter One

It is known as ‘Old town Folsom’, what more can be said? The house is everything the newly married Samuel and Anne Walker imagined it would be when they moved to the town; neat and square and plain. This is the place, they decided, that their children would be born and raised in. Their eldest son is now almost eighteen and the house has not lost its charm for them; Samuel still walks up the short, straight path to the front door after work, the grass is kept a regimented two inches high and the three white columns by the front door are repainted every year to match the rail on the wraparound porch.

Anne and Samuel have enjoyed the sunset on that porch on almost every summer evening since they moved in. Even the fights they’ve had over college funds and missed anniversaries have been relocated to the porch in summer, so as not to waste the evening light.

It’s the very latest part of summer now, edging closer to fall by the day. As when they were first married, tonight they share a jug of lemonade and watch the yellow disk dip below the horizon. In their younger days they’d watched their sons play on the lawn as the sun went down. Jude, then still a light brown haired blur of energy, had chased his younger brother across the grass at breakneck speed. Aaron had never seemed to mind the pointless game, tearing away from his older sibling and giggling fit to bust.

Now though, the lawn is empty, both Jude and Aaron are inside, ostensibly doing their homework.

“It’s getting late.” Anne comments, looking up at the indigo stained sky through her blond fringe.

“It’ll be light for a while.” Samuel is studying a dusty Ford car manual; his job selling second hand cars requires a certain amount of familiarity, though for his part, Samuel takes an extreme interest in knowing the ins and outs of every car on his lot. He’s as broad and dark as his wife is fair and slender, a mixture that has come out well in their children. Both Jude and Aaron have light brown hair and clear skin, their adolescent growth spurts already promising a bulk that will rival their father’s.

“We have church tomorrow. It’s an early start.” His wife remarks, Samuel sighs and closes the book, fingers rising and working to remove the creases from his brows and flatten his dark brown hair.

“You’re probably right.”

They take their glasses and the empty pitcher into the kitchen. Inside, the house is light and filled with the evening air. The tiles of the slanted roof over them are still exuding the day’s heat, making the white painted hallways comfortably warm.

Standing at the bottom of the stairs, Samuel calls up to his sons.

“Boys! Time for bed!” He hears the rustling of pages and the shifting of feet. They’re up rather too late, but he’s inclined to give them some leeway, given the warmth of the night and the slowness with which the summer sun has set.

Upstairs, Aaron puts aside his comic books and looks at the hastily completed homework on his desk. He’ll probably have to pay for that, come Monday. At fifteen he’s not really at the age where forgetting or blowing off homework is acceptable, at least according to his Dad. Still, the lure of a new Spiderman edition was too much for Math to even compare.

He slides out of his weekend clothes, jeans and a new red T-shirt, straight into his pyjamas and then into bed. He clicks the lamp off within five minutes of his Father calling up to him. The walls of his room, bedecked in national geographic posters and pictures from the Harry Potter movies, are cast into shadow.

Across the hall, blanketed in semi-darkness, Jude is thinking of his own school work, neglected for a rather more pressing reason than a need to keep up with the adventures of Spidey.

Jude’s room is the polar opposite of his brother’s, the only posters to be found are old ones from his Father’s extensive record collection. His unfinished algebraic equations are balanced on the glass cover of his very own record player, itself balanced on a rudimentary table composed of paperback novels.

Jude sits on the floor at the foot of his bed. Before his Father called up to him to get into bed, he had been playing a lengthy tournament of solitaire. The cards are still laddered in front of him, missing only very few, which he still holds in his hand. He hasn’t turned the light off, having neglected to turn it on in the first place. He’d been too absorbed.

The game had taken maybe one tenth of his attention, the rest was all tied up in the fact that he could hear his parents talking outside of his window. The porch table and chairs were just outside and he could hear his Mother’s voice, “We have church tomorrow.” The reason Jude could not concentrate long enough to tackle his work, was that he knew very well that they had church tomorrow. It was Sunday, they’d been attending Mass at St. Matthew’s each Sunday for as long as he could remember. The thing taking up his mind was the way in which he was stuck between dreading the morning, and longing for it.

On the one hand, it was a chance to get out of the house, to gain some measure of peace whilst entrenched in the rituals of the church. It also meant seeing Father Gray again.

On the other hand...it meant seeing Father Gray again. Like a razor edged chalice, it was both a blessing and a surprising hurt.

This Sunday, this particular Sunday, was also the day Jude had promised himself, had promised God even, that he would confess. Of course he confessed every Sunday, he went into the wooden booth, breathed the incense laden air and confessed his sins to Father Gray in confidence. Jude had taken penance for lying, for selfishness and laziness; this however, was a far greater confession.

This was the heart of him.

***

Outside, the full light of the Sunday morning sun beats down on the roof of the church, blinding on its white walls. The streets around the building are clogged with cars as the faithful of Folsom, California have come to worship at St. Matthew’s Catholic Church. Inside, the mass is concluded, and the assembled men and women wait patiently for their turn at confession.

There’s a stillness to the inside of the building that is almost the definition of peace. Today the flowers are prim white blossoms and the air is thick with heat and incense, hanging still and scented over the heads of those still waiting in the church. The stained glass window over the altar, a modern affair of jagged shapes in blues and aquamarines, sends underwater light down over the gleaming wood of the pews, and the tile of the floor. The confessional itself is at the side of the large room, classical in design and made of thick, dark wood.

Within the confessional, seventeen year old Jude Walker sits restlessly, carrying a great burden on his soul. The seventeen year old raises his hand and crosses himself, murmuring the words that will begin his confession.

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. My last confession was a week ago, and I have sinned.” Jude is filled already with anxiety, his mind stumbling on the words that should be ingrained in him by now like the scents of the confessional.

"Go on." A low voice encourages formally, prompting Jude to continue his confession.

“I have taken the lords name in vain, often. I have been neglectful in my prayers, I have not prayed with intact faith for months...”

Jude shuffles in his seat, his eyes flicking to the square of grille work on his right. The confessional is small and warm, smelling of beeswax polish and the smudgy scent of generations of candles and incense. It doesn't cover the scent of his own breath, minty with toothpaste, or the scent of his own nervous sweat, mingling the residual odour of laundry detergent on his good Sunday clothes. Jude can hear Father Gray's breathing, level and calm as he waits for Jude's next sin.

"I've disobeyed my parents." He stalls. "I lied to them and I’ve been sneaking out of the house at night to see movies they didn’t want me to go to." He tries to breathe quietly, calmly, but it comes out too loud, rasping through his lips. "I left off on my chores and football practice...I've been lazy...and..." He pauses, the words stopping his throat like cotton balls.

He can’t do this.

"Go on, my son." The voice is deep and soft, placid as he was when listening to the lesser sins that Jude had committed. Jude can imagine what the priest looks like on the other side of that grille. Still as a statue, hands placed carefully on his knees, rosary threaded over the first and ring finger of his left hand.

Jude tries to force the words up and out of his throat.

"It's worse Father...I..." He shuffles in his chair again and the warm air closes around him like a fist, sweat dampens his collar. How can he do this? It is bad enough to know a thing, but to admit it in this way is to make it real, to acknowledge it into being. “I can’t say it Father.” Jude confesses, ashamed and guiltily relieved that he might escape with his secret intact. Of course, then it will be his to carry until his death.

"I need not remind you that this is a private ritual." Father Gray soothes him with his proper tone and prescribed phrases. "No one but myself and God will know of your confession."

Jude clenches his damp palms into a single fist, one hand around the other, pressing into his agitated stomach. The words are coming, a slow, sickening slide of confession that he cannot keep within himself. It feels like a blade being drawn from him.

"I've had thoughts Father...about men." Jude manages to utter, voice barely above a whisper.

The pause is torturous.

"I see." The priest breathes out a sigh regretfully. “You mean to say...you have found yourself...attracted, to them?”

“Yes.” His voice is small and shamed, despite the priest’s continuing level tone.

"Is that the extent of it?" Father Gray asks calmly.

"No, I..." Jude swallows hard. "I've...done things...Father.” he admits. “Not with anyone, but I have...”

"You have been unchaste, in private?" His voice is soft and Jude feels his breath catch, at the words, the way in which the priest says them, the way they make his stomach curl in anticipation and revulsion.

"Yes" his voice is small, shamed, because it is so much worse than that, so much worse, and he still has to tell that part of it. "Only a few times Father..."

"It is still a sin, even if the act is performed rarely." His voice is regretful and Jude detects sympathy in it.

"I know...but, Father...I think my thoughts are the greater sin." He can’t help the way his voice trips over the words, the way his fingers rake their nails nervously across the fabric of his Sunday slacks.

"How so?"

"I think...well, at least, I have thought...of you, Father." Jude’s stomach tightens and he feels his face burn with shame, his body locking and filling with embarrassed heat.

The priest is silent for a good long while and Jude hunches in on himself, not knowing what to expect. Each possible reaction from the man behind the wooden screen fills him with more fear; the disgust, anger, pity, condemnation or comfort that may come are each their own torture. Jude can see that any reaction from Father Gray can only make this worse. He wishes he’d stayed silent.

"My son..." The priest begins, and it’s that piece of supposedly comforting ceremony that pushes Jude over the edge from fear into upset.

"Don't pretend you don't know who I am." Jude's voice shakes. "We're a congregation of fifty people...you know who I am, Father."

"Jude..." Father Gray sighs.

"I need help." He's only known Father Gray for a little over a year, and for the first sixteen years of his life their priest was an older man, Father Drake. Jude has lain awake for weeks wrestling with the decision as to whether to reveal himself. He has no real reason to hope that the younger Father Gray might be able to help him in ways their previous priest would not have been able to. This does nothing to stop the thought that maybe he would understand, perhaps he would not turn from him in disgust.

"I will help you, of course I will." Father Gray says quickly, Jude almost shakes in relief, so keyed up has he become with the expectation of revulsion. The priest sighs. "See me after the remainder of the service. I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you Father."

"And Jude...this took a great deal of courage, taking the first steps towards redemption is often difficult." He hears the rustle of robes, the soft chink of the other man’s rosary, the door of the confessional opens and Father Gray is gone.

Jude sags against the chair, knowing that the hard part is only just beginning, and yet...there’s a slim, hidden part of him that’s happy. Father Gray acknowledged his pain, his struggle. There was no false pity, no revolted piety. Father Gray had understood.

On the heels of that wafer thin joy comes another wave of insecurity. Perhaps it would have been better for the priest to push him away, rather than making him feel slightly better about his condition. Maybe then Jude would have wanted him a little less.

***

Father Sebastian Gray knows a great deal about struggling with one's own demons. He's successfully fought his homosexuality for most of his life. He entered the priesthood and took his vows of celibacy, of chastity, with the knowledge that he was strengthening himself against temptation and moving closer to God. Now he is in the position to help another, and he thanks his heavenly Father for the opportunity to strengthen himself further and bring another soul on the verge of sin back into the fold.

Jude Walker had let his anonymity in the confessional slide, but Sebastian had known his identity and it would be foolish to attempt to pretend that he didn't. Jude was the son of Samuel and Anne Walker, older brother to Aaron who served in the choir as Jude had done before Sebastian’s time at the church. Jude was, if the priest remembered a recent conversation with Anne Walker correctly, going to turn eighteen come next summer, and coming into adulthood would be hard enough without the unnatural urges he had confessed to.

I think of you, Father.

It was most distressing to consider that Jude found his priest, his bastion against sin and temptation, a figure of lust. It was an evil thing indeed and one that Jude should not have to bear alone. When Father Gray had been merely Sebastian Gray, when he had lived with his parents and attended school and mass beside them, he had suffered in silence. Sebastian had experienced such loneliness as he dealt with his condition, and he knew very well how hard it was to conquer alone.

After the remainder of his few other duties to his congregation have been completed, Sebastian meets Jude in his office at the back of the church. The office was the only space to have his mark on it, and Sebastian found it to be a warm and comfortable place for discussing issues that his flock might have. Like the rest of the building it had cream walls and a tiled floor, but the brown leather chairs were his own find, and they were soft and pleasantly homey. One chair sat on each side of Sebastian’s large, solid wood desk.

Up until that point Father Gray had only dealt with upcoming marriages, christenings and funerals. Having left the seminary only recently, and having taken on his first church likewise, recently, he had yet to encounter anyone struggling with the condition that plagued him so. It was not particularly uncommon to not encounter such an issue, particularly as his church was a small one. Sebastian would be lying if he said he had not considered that when he took up residence there.

This then, was to be his first test.

Jude stands uncertainly just inside the office door, he almost jumps when Sebastian enters.

"Please have a seat." He directs Jude to the chair by the desk and takes the one opposite. Free from the restrictions of the confessional booth he can regard Jude openly. What he finds in his reaction to the boy is worryingly akin to attraction, though it is mixed with the same level of concern he felt prior to entering the room.

The teenager is perfect, his skin clear and tanned, his green eyes alert and bright beneath a sloppily cut fringe of brown hair so finely coloured as to be almost blond. Jude still retains some childish softness, but the majority of his frame is swelling with muscle and broadening at the shoulders and chest. Sebastian had not expected such a healthy appearance of one so tormented. Jude is not an outsider as he himself had been, he has all the hallmarks of a popular and outgoing young man. He is also the kind of boy Sebastian would expect to be finding chastity and monogamy an issue, as it seems appropriate that such a fine youth would be inundated with offers from the girls of his own age.

How was it possible that such a surprise could derail him? Sebastian has always thought of himself as steady and methodical, every teacher he has ever had has reinforced that idea. They told him he would make an excellent priest because of it. Now though, Sebastian is not so sure. He had expected Jude to be as he himself was at that age, awkward and insular. He had expected a pale child with averted eyes and a delicate frame. The surprise of Jude’s well developed and wholesome appearance has wrong footed the priest slightly. It has made him vulnerable.

His fingers tighten on the rosary. He will not think these things, he shall not look, that way, at a boy of seventeen. Yet still the boy’s appearance is appealing to him, and he has to fight to quell his attraction. Panic makes his heart jump.

"Thank you for seeing me Father." Jude says respectfully.

Sebastian lays the hand that isn't wrapped painfully tight with beads, on the desk.

"You're welcome.” He keeps his voice level with some effort. “But I feel I should stress, given what you have admitted to me, that though I'm here to help you Jude, perhaps it would be best... to see another priest, or counsellor?" He has to do this; his response to the boy is proof that this is an inappropriate meeting. He has found the boy attractive, this can lead nowhere but error, even if limited to his own thoughts. Yet already he wants to keep Jude at his side and work with him. Could there be a more obvious sign that this is wrong?

Jude shakes his head and another surge of panic goes through the priest.

"You're the only one who can help, because of that, I need you to be my priest, then maybe...maybe I won't feel like this." Jude’s voice is sure and only slightly tinged with desperation.

"I understand if that’s how you feel." Sebastian sighs inwardly and accepts the challenge that God has set in front of him. Jude is both a temptation and a suppliant, and Sebastian will deal with him as such, calling him back to righteousness whilst protecting his own purity. He tears his eyes away from Jude and looks down at the rosary wrapped around his hand.

"This is not something I would...publicise...by any means." Sebastian says carefully. "But when I was younger, slightly more so than yourself...I found myself in much the same position." Jude's eyes dart upwards and the priest swallows nervously, looking up at the boy. "It is a struggle which never ends, I can assure you...but you can choose to be good, Jude...you can control yourself." Sebastian reminds himself anew as he reassures Jude.

He can choose. He is a strong man, a priest, and he can choose to be good.

Jude nods with an intensity which truly makes Sebastian feel for him. "That's what I want...to control it."

"And you can, you will." Sebastian smiles. "Prayer is obviously your first recourse, but if you wish you may come to the church in the evenings and discuss any difficulties with me, and I can offer some explanation and techniques for controlling the...impulse, for sin.”

Jude flushes and his eyes fall to the desk top. Sebastian quashes the thought that he blushes so prettily for one so otherwise grown up. He replaces the dangerous thought with concern for the boy's welfare, plans for future meetings. Appropriate things. Sebastian is after all long practiced with distancing himself from his baser thoughts. He can choose.

"I'd like that Father." Jude manages. "It's difficult to...I don't think I can do this alone." He dips his head and hair falls into his eyes. “I’ve tried, before now.”

"You don't have to." Sebastian meets his eyes with all the warmth and kindness he possesses. His momentary quaver of inappropriate thought forgotten as faith floods him anew."You have God, and you have me, and yourself." His eyes bore into those innocent green irises. "You're stronger than you believe yourself to be."

"I wish that was true." The teenager frowns down at the surface of the desk.

"I wish you could see that it is." Sebastian leans back in his chair, not having realised that he had leaned towards the boy. He had better watch for such slips. "You should return to your parents, I'll see you tomorrow night, if that is agreeable to you?"

"Yes. Thank you Father."

"You're welcome...Jude."

The smile of thanks the boy gives him is like the sun coming out, and Sebastian feels a sudden pang of affection so strong that it startles him.

Jude leaves his office and Sebastian opens the adjoining door that leads into his home. The two buildings are adjoined in such a way that his office leads to his hallway. Sebastian goes up the stairs to his room and removes his robe, his shoes and his regular clothing, followed by his underclothes. Wrapped in a bathrobe he walks down the hall to his bathroom, his bare feet slapping on the black and white tile. Sebastian places his rosary on the side of the tub. He takes his time running the cold faucet into the old claw footed tub as he stares at himself in the mirror, eyes tracing the beginnings of wrinkles around his eyes and mouth.

He's almost thirty. He's come this far.

He’s come this far. He cannot, will not, fail now.

Yet still the memory of the boy persists, his moments of weakness and the thoughts that had flourished in them refuse to leave him. It irks the priest and he watches his reflection frown, worry flexing the finely lined skin.

Once the tub is full he steps into it and lowers himself beneath the freezing water, suppressing a yelp at the sudden heart stopping change in temperature. The beginning of worrying heat in his skin is flooded with chill, failing under the force of the assault on his body. He leans back against the frigid porcelain and closes his eyes, feeling the needles of cold travel over his skin.

Dear God, let me be strong enough to hold myself in check, let this challenge not be beyond my abilities, be with me, and also with Jude in this endeavour.

He picks up his rosary with one hand, holding it as he slides beneath the water. For the single heart stopping moment of want, for the moment in which he found the boy beautiful, he turns through thirty repetitions, raising his head to breathe intermittently.

Hail Mary full of grace, the lord is with thee, blessed art thou among women...

Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done...

***

Pounding the pavement back towards his home Jude offers up his own prayer with every step.

Please God don't let me fuck this up...Please God don't let me fuck this up...

His parents and Aaron had left after the service, accepting Jude’s insistence that he wanted to speak to the priest about volunteer work at face value. This left him with a long walk home, alone, and plenty of time to think.

Unfortunately, all he had to think about was Father Gray.

It wasn’t that he had absolutely no control over himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t know it was wrong. But since the first time he’d seen the new priest, back when Father Gray was still new, he’d been interested in him. He was good looking, medium height, black hair and blue eyes. He was practically thirty but looked perhaps a little younger, thin and lithe. However, the thing that had gotten Jude most was the kindness in those unlikely blue eyes, the odd serenity in him.

Jude had seen a few boys his own age about whom he’d fantasised, over whom he’d spent a few heated minutes working out his frustration alone in the family bathroom; but Father Gray was the only man so far he wanted to be close to, as well as be with, in that way.

He was the first person Jude had thought of with any kind of continuity, after the sinful fantasy was spent. He was the first to cause Jude anguish once the he realised that he could never have the priest, aside from in his fantasies.

Sunday dinner that night is a quiet affair. His parents speak little and mostly to each other, Aaron tries to get him into a conversation about the new Nintendo game he wants for his birthday and the relative merits of the new Mario over the older version. Jude keeps his comments short and doesn’t invite further discussion. There’s a secret out in the world now, his secret, and another human being knows it. The man, the priest that he dreams about knows something about him that his parents and brother do not. That should not make him feel a twinge of hopeful excitement, but it does.

Jude doesn’t eat much.

He goes to bed early, and sleeps fitfully, waking with the sheets bunched on the floor and his body naked to the touch of the cool morning air. Jude goes through his morning routine of showering and dressing. His mother makes him scrambled eggs for breakfast and he heads off to school. Classes pass in a blur, he follows instructions, he talks to his friends Benjamin and Prue but his mind isn’t really on the conversation and eventually Ben taps him on the forehead.

“Anyone home? Jude c’mon I’m defending the purity of football alone here.”

“It’s a sexist nightmare.” Prue singsong’s, tweaking Ben’s hat off of his head and slapping him on the top of the head.

Jude raises half a smile and feels a twinge of relief when the bell goes for last period.

After school he tidies his abominably disordered room in an attempt to make the time go faster. He stacks records on his shelves, reorders his novels in size order, largest to smallest and puts his DVD’s and VHS tapes with others of the same colour, from black through red all the way to blue and white. When everything is clean Jude has nothing left to do but play his brother at round after round of Mario, but his heart isn’t really in it.

“Dude, you suck today.” Aaron laughs as he leaves Jude in his dust for the twentieth time.

“Maybe you’re just getting better.” Jude mutters.

“I’m always this good.” Aaron grins proudly. “You just suck today.”

Jude steps up his game after that and loses a few stress free hours beating his brother senseless at Mario. Just as Aaron is getting ready to break out the N64 so they can go at it old school, Jude realises it’s six o’clock and that it’s probably a reasonable enough time for him to go and see Father Gray.

Jude jogs downstairs once he’s changed his T-shirt for a fresh grey one. In the kitchen his parents are sitting at the table balancing their chequebook. His Mother has on her square framed glasses and she’s got a pen stuck through her blond ponytail. His Dad is frowning down at some receipts, holding the thin slips of paper delicately in his large hands.

“When did we spend thirty dollars on carpet cleaner?” Samuel asks.

Anne thinks for a second. “When you traipsed all that oil in from the garage.”

Samuel groans in remembered shame. “Oops.”

“I told you to change your shoes.” Anna says, shaking her head.

“Mom? Dad?” Jude interrupts them and watches as his parents turn their faces towards him expectantly, wondering if this is what they would look like if he had to tell them, one day, that he’s gay.

He hopes he never has to.

“I’m going out for a couple of hours.”

“Why?” Samuel asks, squinting down at an electricity bill.

“I’m just going to hang out, Benjamin wants to go over some stuff for the science quiz on Wednesday.”

“Ok, be back in time for dinner at eight.” Anne smiles, going back to her paperwork.

Jude watches them for a second before going to put on his sneakers and leaving the house. He sets off towards the church, and just like that his nerves are back, and to his chagrin they’re not because tonight he has to talk about his abnormalities. He’s nervous because soon he’ll be alone in a room with probably one of the hottest men he’s ever seen, in the flesh. It makes his skin tickle and his heart thud all the way over to the church.

Father Gray greets him in the main body of the church, wearing his customary dark robe and a modest, professional smile. His approach to his attire has always been more old fashioned than Father Drake’s ever was. Jude holds onto the priest’s smile like a lifeline. The older man is a dependable professional, and Jude knows the priest is not happy to see him purely on a personal basis, to him this is his duty. Yet Jude can’t help but feel that smile warm the pit of his stomach. He follows the priest into his office and sits in the same chair he occupied yesterday.

“So...how have you been?” Jude asks before he can stop himself.

The priest looks at him, surprise evident in his features.

“Since yesterday...” Jude stumbles. “You’re good?”

“Yes. I’m good.” Father Gray smiles slightly. Jude feels his face flush with embarrassment. “I also have some exercises for you, if you’d like to try them?”

“Sure.” Jude grins.

The priest has Jude sit in his office and list his ‘triggers’. This is harder than expected. What Father Gray says he remembers doing as a teenager is listing all the things that aroused him, or things that represented a temptation. Jude stares at the blank pad for a long time, then rubs his knuckles across his closed eyes.

"I can't do this."

"Yes, you can." The priest soothes him, then rips a sheet from the pad and selects a pen for himself. "Start with the first thing you remember, the first time it happened." Jude looks at him for a long moment sets to his paper, listening to the scratch of pen on paper as the other man begins the exercise himself. Jude feels slightly buoyed up by the priest’s participation.

They write in silence for a long time, the electric light overhead glowing yellowish in the shadowed office. Father Gray completes his list and gets up, going through the connecting door and into his kitchen, returning with tea for both of them. Jude barely looks at the drink, sipping in between noting point after point on his pad.

"Done." He says, finally, setting his pen aside and looking anxiously at the priest. "Do I have to..." he motions with the paper.

"I don't have to read it if you wish to keep it to yourself." Jude frowns at the piece of paper, anxiety evident on his face. "Jude." The boy looks up. "It really is your decision, and it's ok if you wish to keep the list private."

He holds out the paper, eyes on the priest’s. "Read it."

The priest takes the list and reads it in silence.

Most of it is taken up with the obvious, as Jude didn’t know what he should put in or leave out. He’s written that he responds to suggestive music, to images designed to be received sexually, present on billboards and in magazines. That he feels uncomfortable in the locker room when with his team mates; he is excited by sex scenes in movies and in literature, and seeks release accordingly. He fantasises and masturbates habitually, and finally managed to admit on paper in cramped, embarrassed handwriting, that he pleasures himself anally.

Jude watches the priest carefully for signs that he’s written the wrong thing or said too much. But so far the other man seems unmoved. Father Gray for his part had expected much of what the boy has written, his is not surprised.

Near the bottom of the page Jude had detailed his fantasies, paired down and stripped of anything resembling lewd detail. There are three of them, and all of them feature Father Gray himself. The priest reads these with as much detachment as he can force on himself, because despite the clinical nature of their description, God help him he can see them.

I fantasise that Father Gray kisses me.

That I'm naked and he touches me.

I dreamt that I sodomised a man, and when he said my name I realised it was Father Gray. (This was just a dream, but I was aroused, I don't know if that counts)

"Yes it does." Father Gray says. "Though such things are beyond your control in a way your own thoughts are not."

Jude blushes, knowing exactly what Sebastian has read.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have written..."

"You should confess to anything that stands between you and being healthy." The priest says softly. He pushes his own list towards the teenager. "When we are alone we see who we truly are, marrying that with confession is how we know who we should strive to be."

Jude reads the priests list with a growing sense of empathy.

"Is all of this true?" He asks finally. The priest nods. The list is much the same as Jude's in terms of the effects of outside stimulus. He has also listed arousal from being touched by men in a platonic sense, such as when he has his hair washed and cut, and from being seen in a state of undress, whether at the leisure centre or working outside. His fantasies are few and far between as they are something he learnt to control in his adolescence.

"How do you take it?" Jude asks. "It feels like it's there, all the time, and the more I try to ignore it the more I can't help but see..." he exhales. "I feel like a perv the whole time." He frowns angrily at the desk top.

"You're not." Father Gray looks at the boys bent head and feels a pang of compassion for his suffering.

"I just told you I fantasise about you touching me." Jude snaps his mouth shut and the self loathing anger drains from his face. "Shit, I'm sorry Father."

Again, as it had the previous day, attraction rises in the priest, at both the profanity and the imagery. He digs his nails into his thigh unseen and squeezes until he feels the skin give. He struggles to keep his face and voice impassive.

"I understand how frustrating it can be. But I am not going to tell you that you're a monster." Jude's face takes on such a grateful, relieved expression that Sebastian has to look away. The idea of this boy needing him, wanting his approval, does not sit well with him in his current state. "You have an obsession, an illness...and that it not your fault." He says softly.

"Thank you Father." Jude's youthfully strong frame is curled in on itself in the hard chair, exhaustion and emotion evident in his every movement.

"I am doing comparatively little." Sebastian shrugs off the soft words of gratitude and hands Jude back his list. "You've identified these weaknesses in yourself, now you have to find ways to avoid temptation altogether, or confront it successfully."

"How do I do that?"

"Well, we can try something. Think about..." Sebastian casts his eyes to the list. "Think about something that would usually arouse you."

Jude looks at him sharply.

"I thought you said I should avoid..."

"Overcoming the desire to succumb to temptation is incredibly difficult." Sebastian says, voice low and earnest. "If you can identify the point at which you lose the battle with your better nature, you can stop a situation from getting that far."

Jude still seems nonplussed, but closes his eyes anyway.

"OK." Sebastian guides him through the exercise briskly. "Think of something that would usually cause you to gratify yourself."

Jude opens his eyes to look at him doubtfully, but complies anyway. He closes his eyes and a crease forms in his brow.

Sebastian has done this exercise himself, the point of it is to create temptation and then deny the impulse, the theory being that a desire you create yourself is easier to squash than one that arises unexpectedly.

Jude's breath comes in a rush and Sebastian snaps back to attention, realising that he's been looking at the wall behind Jude rather than at the boy himself. Jude worries his lower lip with his teeth, hands resting on the edge of the desk in front of him.

"OK." His voice is dry, shaking a little. "What do I do now?"

"Nothing." Sebastian murmurs. "That's the point."

Jude makes a sound between a whine and a muffled grunt of discomfort. Sebastian flexes his fingers, digging his nails into a fresh patch of flesh, he can do this, he can cope with this.

"It's not that difficult to not touch yourself." He mutters, voice low and hypnotic. "It won't kill you."

Jude swallows noisily.

"Think of something else." Sebastian continues, his tone soothing. "It gets easier."

"Can you..." Jude swallows again. "Your voice isn't helping."

Sebastian's nails pierce the skin in their bruised crescents. At the back of his mind the Lord's Prayer starts up of its own accord.

"I'm sorry." Jude says after a few quiet seconds, opening his eyes and looking at the pries apologetically.

"What were you thinking about?" The question comes from nowhere and for a second Sebastian wonders who asked it, before connecting it to the movement of his own throat, to the heat flaring over his face.

Jude's hands tighten on the desk, knuckles white with effort.

Sebastian is appalled with himself. "You don't have to...that was remiss of me."

He watches Jude in silence, wondering for the first time if this task is even within the bounds of what he can achieve.

"I've had that one before." Jude murmur's, his eyes still closed. "It always...I can never not touch, Father, when I think of you, like that."

"Jude." Sebastian's voice is strong and it surprises him because he feels anything but strength in his veins. "Stop."

The boys eyes open and the green of them is drowned in pupil, his lips bitten red and sweat showing at his temples. Shame and grief contort his young features.

"I'm sorry, Father." Sebastian wills his own arousal away, flinging his will up as a wall through which Jude's soft words cannot penetrate. He refuses to look at the boy. He does not need that image to torment himself with.

"Try to avoid the situations you find stimulating." He gets out, keeping his voice steady and authoritative. "You should come and see me again if you think it will help you to overcome your difficulties.”

Once the boy has left him alone in his office, with the golden halos of the lamps making the walls honey coloured, warm and bright. The priest subsides into guilt. Alone that night he plunges himself into the cold water bath, stomach empty of food because he has denied himself supper.

He prays Jude will not return.

As bad as it is of him to want such a thing, for him to wish Jude alone or unsaved because of his own weakness in the face of the boy’s desire...he cannot help but wish it.

For a while it seems that God might even have granted him this selfish request.

Father Gray tends to his duties and his congregation without interruption. Jude does not visit him personally, or in the confessional. At mass and before and after services, the boy keeps to the far corner of the church, making excuses to his family and sitting in shadow. The priest feels a little guilty about alienating the boy, but it is a lesser evil and it cannot hope to match the guilt he feels over his continued interest in the boy.

Yet despite Jude’s distance, Sebastian is no more peaceful than he had been in the teenagers oddly affecting company.

On this particular night, a full two weeks after his disastrous meeting with Jude; Sebastian brews himself a cup of tea and takes it into his living room. Sitting on his green corduroy couch he looks up at the dark wood framed clock on the wall. It is twenty minutes past midnight. Sleep is, as of recently at least, a luxury not afforded to him. The whole house is still and silent, the streets outside likewise, and there is nothing to distract Sebastian from his thoughts. Which is, incidentally, why he cannot sleep. He has always been a man who thinks too much and relaxes too little, and tonight he is paying the price for that.

Sebastian sips his tea and listens to the ticking of the clock.

He’d meant to finish writing his sermon for Sunday and go to bed, but after coming down to his office in his pyjama’s he’d found himself unable to summon the correct frame of mind for the work. Instead he had gone through his journals, both his professional records and the private writings he’s been keeping since his teenage years.

The priest is beginning to feel like a mad alchemist or heathen magician in his endless researching. The journals lie open to various stages on the glass topped coffee table. Sebastian has been looking for the definitive exercise for Jude, the ‘cure’ which after thirty years he knows does not exist. Yet he continues to scan his own cramped writing anyway.

The clock tuts reproachfully.

Sebastian rubs a hand over his forehead, trying to ease the abundant tension headache that now plagues him.

There is a paradox at the heart of his concern, which causes these headaches to emerge. He wishes to find the answer for the boy, so that Jude will leave him be. Yet, to communicate such a breakthrough to Jude he must believe that the boy will return to him. The twist in his own reasoning would bother the priest more if he had not begun to understand that he would never think rationally when it comes to Jude.

Since the exercise he’d bade Jude perform had done nothing but create an atmosphere of barely tempered lust, Sebastian knows that having Jude back in his office would be inadvisable. But in order to do his duty as a priest he could not turn the boy away should he come calling. As a man he fears Jude’s effect on him, but as a man of God he cannot turn away a soul in need.

The one bright side to the situation was that it at least kept him busy. Performing his endless research was nicely distracting and left Sebastian with little time to think of Jude in any other context aside from as a troubled parishioner and a challenge to his training as a priest.

For that alone he is thankful.

The problems come when he has time on his hands, time to think. He limits these periods of time as much as he can, but still he finds himself thinking about what would be best left alone. He thinks about Jude in his quiet moments of inactivity. How the boy is coping, whether his slip in decorum, his stupid use of that exercise, has thrown them both off the path of righteousness. Yet sometimes, rarely, his thoughts, well intentioned as they are, turn to Jude's flushed face, his bitten lips and dilated eyes.

In an effort to control himself he limits his meals to water, sugarless black coffee and dry toast twice a day. Flavours become a foreign thing to him. In the mornings he twists the dial of his shower all the way to cold and leaves it there. Hot showers feel too good to be allowed to touch his skin. He needs harsh treatment, nothing seductive, nothing sensual.

He cleans his house and the church itself in a flurry, dark robe heavy with splashes of water and sweat, he wrenches his back, light headed with hunger and sleeps fitfully on the floor beside his untouched bed.

It still isn't enough.

And it does not stop the dreams.

They are not themselves lewd. He dreams that he is warm and comfortable, the young, strong body in his arms unresisting and welcoming, soft hair and skin touching his own. They unsettle him more than sexual fantasies would. Wanting Jude to lie with him, to just be close enough to touch, does not seem in itself to be an unreasonable desire.

It frightens him because he cannot fight it with morality, he cannot be disgusted with it or see it as a temptation.

Sebastian sleeps less, preferring to read into the night, scrub floors and silver that is already clean, prepare sermons and pray circular, endless prayers.

He wonders if this is some kind of punishment for wishing Jude away.

As if summoned by that revelation, Jude comes to see him the next day.

***

The past two weeks have been kinder to Jude than they have to Father Gray. Although the older man may consider his attempts at helping the teenager to have been in vain, they have had some degree of success. The priest’s advice has had a profound effect on Jude, so much so that, after two weeks of formulating a strategy, Jude decides to put it into action.

Football practice is a fairly small part of Jude’s life as a whole; he’s not a star player or anything and unlike Ben he doesn’t live for the sport itself. His lack of fervour might be to do with the fact that Jude is only an alternate, he practices twice a week with the rest of the team and the rest of the time sometimes forgets that he’s even one of them.

They’ve done laps and drills for the last two hours and Jude’s truly exhausted, his legs aching as he bundles his kit away. The changing rooms are tiled brown with wooden benches running down the centre, with hooks above and cubby holes below. The rest of the guys are milling around, heading for the showers at the far end of the room, the standard open plan space with yellowed tile and shower heads stuck into the walls at odd intervals. The shared showers experience was one that promised shame to most if not all of high school students, but to Jude it was running the gauntlet.

Usually he tried to be the last one in the steamy, slick tiled area, waiting until the others had left for the day before he ventured in. Ben teased him for his perceived shyness and Jude managed a smile every time. The truth would disturb his friend, he was sure of that, not to mention the rest of the guys on the team. How else could they react to the knowledge that an imposter had been with them for two years? A boy who looked at them not as team mates or competition, but as they themselves looked at the girls at school.

Jude had had enough near misses, attraction that stampeded past his ineffective barriers and into full fledged arousal before he could stop it. Despite the danger, the lure of the opportunity had sometimes proved too great. Jude had self-consciously devoured the sight of all the naked flesh on display, the strong backs and well shaped legs, the delicious curve of a wet throat or stomach. Until Father Gray appeared at least. From that point on there had been little to interest him in his teammates, besides a kind of residual desire. Still, it was enough to potentially wreak havoc.

Today though, he was armed with the priest’s advice.

Jude, having discarded his kit, kept his sweat soaked t-shirt and jogging pants on. He picked up his bag and slid his feet into his battered running shoes.

“You’re not showering?” Ben asks, pushing the sweat soaked blue streak in his hair out of his eyes.

“When I get home.” Jude shrugs.

Ben gives him an odd look. “Are you actually getting shyer?”

“I live like, twenty minutes away.” Jude sighs. “It’s not that far, and all my stuff is there.”

“All right.” Ben rolls his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you then.” Jude agrees, leaving before anyone else can comment on his change in routine.

It’s a small victory, after all, not doing something is still easier than actively attempting to retrain his mind. But Jude still feels proud of himself, even as he shuffles home in clothes still tacky and humid with sweat.

At home he finds himself alone, Aaron is at a study session with one of his friends and his parents are both out at the hardware store, probably arguing over dado rail. He goes upstairs and removes his clothes in the bathroom, a fawn walled room with tiles like squares of bitter chocolate. The showerhead is over the tub and Jude steps into it, turning the water on and cranking the temperature up.

Jude hums as he gets his hair wet, feeling the hot water sluice over him and clean the grime and stickiness from his skin. The humming becomes boisterous off key singing as he uncaps a bottle of orange shampoo and fills his hand with it, soaping his hair and closing his eyes. He belts out a half remembered pop song as he shakes foam out of his face and feels the soft, creeping trails of soap trickle over his skin.

Once he’s clean Jude steps out of the hot, vapour filled space, swiping the leaf patterned curtain aside and standing on the cream mat as he dries himself off. Wrapped in the towel he pads across the hall to his bedroom. Selecting a clean t-shirt and a pair of jeans, Jude gets dressed and tries to make a start on his homework.

He feels good, clean and oddly virtuous, like he’s gotten up early to do all his chores and afterwards spent a great deal of time just sitting quietly. Today’s change in his routine has buoyed him up quite well and his elation is only dampened by the thought that Father Gray doesn’t know about it.

But why shouldn’t he?

Buzzing with triumph and shaking his damp hair out of his eyes, Jude goes downstairs and walks out of the house and in the direction of the church. It won’t take long after all, for him to see the priest and thank him. He’ll be home before he’s even missed. Only as he reaches the building does he pause to consider that perhaps the priest won’t want to see him again, given his lack of control at their previous meeting.

So it is that Sebastian opens the door of his office to a tentative knock and comes face to face with the boy's anxious face. He chooses to accept this as a sign that the past weeks torture have been in penance for turning a boy in need from his door. He shall not make such a mistake again.

"Jude?"

"May I come in?" His voice is overly stiff and formal, Sebastian clings to it like a talisman, nothing sinful can come of such a tone.

"Certainly." He widens the door and returns to his seat. "How can I help you?"

"I came to say sorry." Jude sits awkwardly in the chair opposite him. "I'm really sorry about what happened...I wasn't going to come back but..." He leans forwards. "But it's working, Father...what you told me..."

"I'm glad, Jude." Sebastian feels a smile pinch his mouth. He is happy that Jude is finding some relief from his compulsions, though he feels a wave of jealousy that should be beneath him. "And you have nothing to apologise for."

"Father I..."

"It's already forgiven."Sebastian's smile is genuine now, he doesn't feel that he could deny such an earnest boy honest forgiveness.

Jude smiles, relief evident in the sudden looseness of his shoulders. "Thank you Father." Jude's hands fidget on his thighs. "If it's alright with you...I'd like to keep going, with this...counselling thing."

Sebastian feels his strength waver, he is so tired, so very tired. He shall not turn the boy away, but neither can he invite him unreservedly into his life. He shall do his duty, nothing more, nothing less.

"Jude...I don't think that would be appropriate."

The boy looks stricken.

"I knew it...you don't want to see me." Jude, for all his outward appearance of strength looks suddenly so small that Sebastian has to fight the urge to circle the desk and comfort him as he would a child. A single touch, no matter how innocently intended, could break them both. He knows this, and so he does not move.

"Jude, if our last meeting is any indication...it may not be best for you to continue under my guidance."

"I can control myself Father." Jude meets his gaze levelly. "I know I was out of line, but I've been practicing restraint, and..." He frowns. "You look tired."

"What?" Sebastian feels a jolt up his spine.

"Like you need more sleep..." Jude looks even more worried. "You're not...this isn't because of me is it? Because of what I did?"

"Don't trouble yourself with it my child." Sebastian closes his priestly indifference around himself like a fire blanket.

"Father..." Jude's face is open, desperate, and Sebastian responds to that desperation the way any God fearing man would, trying to offer solace, comfort. "Please...you're the only thing, the only one, who's helped me with this."

"There are other priests..."

"I need it to be you."

"Jude..."

"No, I...I know it sounds beyond stupid, that it has to be you even when you're part of my problem. But I can't help but feel like this." Sebastian looks at the boy and sees so much conflict, so much anxiety in one so young.

"Very well." Sebastian sends up a quick prayer for guidance. "You said you have practiced restraint in these past weeks?"

"Yes" Jude nods eagerly. "I followed the list and I stopped watching things that set me off, tried not to think about it and...well, I'm showering at home now, after practice." A flush deepens the tan of his face.

"You're doing very well." Sebastian can see how much Jude needs praise for this, which has surely been a struggle for him, at his age sex is of great importance, a constant pressure in the body. He remembers that much from his own adolescence. "You're coping? With the cessation of the physical element."

Jude's blush deepens. "I'm trying Father."

"Good. But you must try harder." Sebastian flicks to a page of notes pressed between two pages of his journal. He has some fairly benign exercises that Jude might find helpful."How long have you gone without?"

"Since..." Jude is practically stuttering with awkwardness. "Since the last time I saw you."

Sebastian swallows.

"Have you tried alternative action, to combat arousal?"

"What would I have to do?"

"I find discomfort to be effective." Sebastian links his fingers and sets his hands on the table. "A sharp pain or unpleasant sensation, like a cold shower."

"Is that why..." Jude nods towards Sebastian's lap. "That thing with your leg."

Sebastian blinks once, wrong footed.

"I saw you doing it last time." Jude says softly, and Sebastian feels caught out, knowing now that Jude knows that he was aroused. "Does it work?"

"Very well." Sebastian lets his eyes fall to the desk. "As does restricting other activities that influence the libido, sensual food, relaxation, prolonged nakedness...reducing them can help." Jude nods, his eyes contemplative. "There are also other things for you to consider, in my case I chose to enter the priesthood...you must redirect your attentions towards women your own age."

"You mean date?" Jude looks uncertain of this idea.

"Eventually yes." Sebastian taps the surface of the desk absently. "Why don't you continue, with the abstinence and we can meet to discuss any problems or questions you may have?"

Jude nods. "Thank you, Father."

"I'll see you on Sunday." Sebastian shows Jude from the church and watches him jog towards the street corner.

Jude reaches his house in record time, jumping up the porch steps and shrugging off his mother's offer of dinner with a grin and a muttered 'Not hungry Mom' he crashes through the door of his room and closes it behind him, sitting down on the end of the bed.

Sebastian said he could keep seeing him. His heart kicks happily at the thought.

Jude closes his eyes and counts backwards from two hundred, hands clenched on his thighs. It barely helps at all. Seeing Father Gray, thinking about him, affects him in ways he can't begin to control.

At least not yet.

He can control himself, and he can get better. With just a little more practice.

Chapter Two

To say that Jude is trying his hardest in the days that follow would be to understate the sheer, teeth gritting effort that goes into his every waking moment.

He controls his thoughts at all times, is alert for problematic influences like suggestive pictures of men or naked men on the television in the den. Jude buys pyjamas to wear in bed, so that he is not tempted whilst sleeping naked or partially uncovered. He throws out the lotion he keeps in his bedside drawer and tells his rosary in his mind when he wakes up, half hard and with the afterimage of blue eyes seared into his brain.

He's trying so hard it hurts.

He's being so good and it's cruel that, just like drugs hit the system best when you're clean; Father Gray affects him now more than ever. It's like he's cut himself off from all other meaningless stimulation, taken away all his outlets, and then there's the priest, and Jude can't look at him without wanting. Wanting so badly it aches.

He's not an idiot, he's only almost eighteen and, ok, so he's hot, he gets noticed, but there's nothing there to interest someone like the priest, someone older and intelligent and so together he makes Jude's scattered thoughts and prayers look like a car turning frantic circles in the gravel.

And yet he still needs him, he needs Father Gray's help, even if the final stage of that help will be to cut himself off from Jude entirely. He knows it's coming and yet the threat of separation, that this time when he can at least look at the other man will come to an end, does nothing but make him want more.

Father Gray is too lithe, too pale and bright and impossibly unblemished to be anything less than perfect. Jude sees it in every sermon he delivers and in all their meetings. Blue eyes resting on his own, long pale fingers wound in rosary beads. Jude sits through hours of church just watching his soft mouth form the words of the teachings, of each ingrained ritual. The way his eyelashes lie flush against his skin when he closes his eyes to pray, his voice like rolling thunder and intimate murmur all at once.

It's because of this effect that he is back in confession.

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been four weeks since my last confession."

Sebastian hears Jude's voice and wonders why it is that God is rubbing salt into this most painful of wounds.

"May God bless you and keep you." He reels off. "Tell me what you have done, child."

It doesn't help that he can imagine Jude, that stubborn set to his jaw and cheekbones, belied by the softness of his mouth, the smoothness of his face. Jude is young yet and is for all his mannerisms but a boy in a body that is slowly coming into manhood.

"I've failed myself Father...I..." Jude licks his lips and Sebastian can hear the sound. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry and I've worked so hard Father."

For a second, no more than a second but God help him if that second isn't Hell itself, Sebastian is sure Jude is going to confess to being with a man. The thought of Jude, carnally open with a stranger is perhaps the most horrific thing Sebastian can conceive.

"What sin is it that you have committed?" He asks softly.

"I was..." Jude shifts restlessly, his voice harsh and low with shame and desperation. "I lost it Father...I couldn't...it's just your voice."

Sebastian is growing to hate himself for the ways in which Jude's desire increases his own.

He knew as soon as Jude confessed to him initially that he should not engage the boy and attempt to council him, he has only been proved right every time Jude confessed to further fantasies, further obsessions. It is his own desire that allowed Jude to convince him to return to this folly. Now he is here, in an enclosed space, listening to this perfect boy tell him that his voice is like a tool to break through his reserve.

It’s happening so fast. All his control, all his single minded determination, stripped away.

"The sermon...?" A creeping combination of disgust and arousal coiling in him. "You mean to say...you ..." he flushes as he says it, even though no one is there to see. No one but God anyway. "You touched yourself?" he murmurs, brokenly.

"Father..." There is no denial there. Jude had sat in one of the pews and pleasured himself through the service. He knows he looked at Jude, more than once, and thinks now that perhaps he had seen a kind of...restlessness to him, the furtive motion of one hand, out of sight. It is both appalling and appealing.

"This is a church Jude...this is..." Sebastian feels the wrongness of it crawl over him, and it still isn't enough to curb the response of his body. "Everyone is here, everyone, to worship – do you understand the...the implications of this act? It's a damnable offence."

"So give me, something, penance – tell me it's wrong." There's hopelessness in his voice. "Because right now I really need to believe in Hell, Father...I need to know what this'll cost me because I...I can't stop." He sounds both broken and aroused and Sebastian cannot, will not, listen to this man, this boy fall apart for him so wantonly.

The lesser sin here is in saving himself. Jude must cease to be his concern, now that his own chastity, his own fealty to God, is in danger.

"Jude...I cannot absolve you of this, knowing that you are capable of it...you must find someone else to help you back to what is right...I fear I have failed you in that and all else."

"Father, please don't." Jude shifts and Sebastian can hear his voice clearer, closer as his face comes near the grille, perfect features hazy behind the fine mesh.

"You must still attend on Sunday, your parents would think it remiss if you didn't...but as for our sessions, any contact with me would be inadvisable. I will recommend you to another priest at another church, for private consultation if you so wish."

"I won't go." Jude's strength returns with a sudden rush. "You can't just send me to someone else, some stranger, and expect me to go willingly."

"This is your soul, my son." Sebastian stresses. "You must do what is best for yourself, and becoming closer to me is most definitely not in your best interests." He sighs. "We are both compromised, and you..." Sebastian bites his lip. "You tempt me in ways I had not thought possible."

"Father..." and the sheer, unmasked desire in the boys voice is enough to make him shiver.

"No." He says, roughly, sharply. "It ends now, and for both our sakes I’ll ask you to keep both your thoughts, and your hands to yourself."

Jude recoils at the harsh words and Sebastian senses his upset, but he holds strong in the face of it.

Jude bolts from the confessional after a few fraught seconds, and Sebastian hears his feet hammering the stone floor as he runs to the exit. Thankfully the church is entirely empty, Jude's is the last confession he will hear.

Sebastian makes his way to the altar, gets down on his knees and begins his prayers, working his way around his rosary.

He stays on the floor for just under five hours, and when he is done, when he can pray no more, he feels there is little point in moving.

***

Jude is left to his own devices, reluctant to seek help elsewhere and knowing that he needs it still. Yet stronger than that impulse to heal himself, to make himself a better son and a saved soul, he wants to see the priest, to make amends, to force the older man to listen to him, to look at him.

He obsesses, every thought directing him back to Father Gray until he can no longer focus on school and can barely sleep. Every minute he wonders what the older man is doing, whether he’s thinking of him at all.

“Jude? Are you even listening?”

“Sure.” Jude squints against the sun and focuses on Ben, he thinks for perhaps the hundredth time that his friend should take the blue streak out of his black bowl cut. Aside from the dye combed into his fringe Ben is an average seventeen year old in his rumpled cargo pants and black t-shirt.

“Then what was I saying?” Ben asks, folding his arms and leaning back against the wall. They’re sitting against the rear of the gym at school, the sounds of the lunch period a distant roar of student chatter.

“You want to ask Prue out.” Jude tells him. Prue is Jude’s only other friend at school, a perpetually pink cheeked strawberry blond who always wears skirts and cracks surprisingly dirty jokes.

“Thanks for the summary.” Ben rolls his brown eyes and directs his exasperated gaze back to Jude. “I’ve been pouring my heart out for the last half hour and that’s all that sunk in?”

“You also like her hair.” Jude says defensively.

Ben sighs.

“Seriously Jude, what the hell is up with you? You’ve been walking around like a pregnant senior for weeks.”

Jude raises his eyebrows.

“Don’t try and pull that, you know what I mean.” Ben punches him on the arm. “You look half dead and you’ve got that scary ‘I’ve got a terrible secret’ look.”

“There’s no look.”

“Yeah, there is.” Prue appears on the other side of Ben, soft hips filling out a pale green skirt, her sandaled feet already dusty from trekking around the side of the gym. She perches on a pile of wooden pallets and takes out a bottle of water.

“We’re worried about you Jude.” She says, fixing him with a concerned stare. “If something’s going on you should tell us.”

“I told you when I put that dent in my Dad’s car with my bike.” Ben puts in. “Solidarity.”

Jude considers his friends. It’s not that he thinks he’s more mature than them, if anything he’s far more confused and stunted. He’s just not sure they’d have any advice to give him that he could actually use. Jude also kind of likes that they don’t know about his secret troubles, for a while at least, they help him to push Sebastian to the back of his mind. He’s not willing to sacrifice that.

“Ben’s in love with you.” He tells Prue. “I’ll see you in English.”

He walks off, leaving a smirking Prue beside a speechless Ben. Just as he rounds the corner of the building his friend finds his voice and shouts.

“Not cool!”

Jude’s wan smile disappears before he reaches the school building proper.

He wonders what Sebastian is doing.

A week passes and Jude spends his nights alone in his room. He turns his music up, feeling the bass thunder in his headphones and his heart thump along, skipping with the beat. His room is an ecstatic mess, record sleeves and paperbacks tossed all over the floor, clothes wound and tangled over the chair and his desk. He used to clean to distract himself from his lust, but now his misery does the job perfectly.

Father Gray is disgusted with him.

He cannot be saved.

Two thoughts that feed into each other and off of each other until Jude needs to hit something, throw something, just for the jolt of violence that quietens his mind. He fingers the hem of his tattered grey T-shirt, lying on his bed, an island in the destruction; he listens to his music and flinches every time he remembers the priest's voice, or how his eyes looked when the older man was pleased and hopeful.

His parents have no idea, no idea at all, why their son, such a good boy until now, has grown pinched and withdrawn, sullen even. Aaron's still playing the choir boy routine but he's worried about Jude too. Jude can't stand it, all this love and concern, because he's disgusting – he's wrong, backward, ruined, possessed, obsessed, fucked up, repulsive, repugnant...and even Father Gray can see no good in him, has cut himself off from Jude's taint and left him to his irrepressible sin.

He feels scooped out, empty and raw with his own searing self assessment. He hates his own brain with everything he has. He hates his body for not reacting the way it's supposed to, for ignoring the girls around him and stirring for his priest. Only for Father Gray.

Tonight, after a few hours of torturing his eardrums with music, Jude is interrupted as Aaron throws the door of his room open and shouts something that Jude can't hear over the drowned roar of the music. He swipes the headphones from his head.

"What?" His ears are ringing and a tension headache is building behind his eyes.

"Mom wants to know if you're coming down for dinner."

"No." He scrambles for the headphones, intent on getting back to his music.

"What's up with you?" Aaron apparently hasn't got the message.

"Nothing." He grunts, looking down his body at his younger brother.

"Not buying it."

"Not my problem Aaron."

Aaron hops down the stairs for dinner and Jude turns unto his front and buries his face in his pillow. There's a fairly large part of him that never wants to move again, that kind of wants to lie here until he starves. He knows he's being stupid, that teenage broken heart madness is beneath him. But he's powerless against the numbing wave of hot shame and loss.

He wants. He can't have. And now he can't even think of Father Gray without hearing his disgusted voice, his fearful words.

He turns the music up and hunches in on himself.

***

Sebastian has long maintained an attitude of ambivalence towards his kitchen. It’s a nice enough space, with its mismatched but functional appliances and kitchen island. Yet Sebastian cannot cook beyond the simplistic dishes of dried pasta and jarred sauce, so he has little reason to spend much time in the kitchen itself.

Today however he is looking for something to occupy his mind and the rest of the house is scrupulously clean, the church building is also shined and scrubbed, so Sebastian has turned his attention elsewhere.

He starts with the cabinets. He clears out bowls and mugs, pans and trays until each one is empty and the counters are heaped with items. He washes the shelves and the floor of the cupboards, tepid water running up his arm as he cleans the underside of the counter tops. His bare toes wrinkle on the water speckled floor, and as he kneels his jeans become soaked at the knee.

Sebastian washes each and every kitchen implement, from tea spoons to the egg beater he has no recollection of ever using. By the time he has piled a heap of clean crockery up on the drainer and dried his way through it, placing each thing carefully back from whence it came, he is exhausted.

The oven poses a challenge, and, rolling up the sleeves of his old shirt, Sebastian applies oven cleaner liberally. He crouches on the floor, scrubbing so hard his arms begin to ache after only a few minutes. The chemicals make his already light headed state much worse, so that he feels both hungry and sick. Thick brown grease melts away and clots his scrubbing pad, slicking his fingers and stinking of rancid fat and the burnt flakes that dot his skin.

He can hear his own harsh breathing as he attacks the inside of the oven, arm jerking back and forth with the pad held tightly in his hand. Sweat prickles down his back and the muscles in his legs start to seize up from the cramped position. Only when his body sings with pain does he relent, stopping with a suddenness that leaves his ears ringing as he crouches on the floor, clutching the top of the oven for support. His breath rattles in his chest as he leans his head against his extended arm, black spots flickering in front of his eyes.

Perhaps, if he had done any cooking in his kitchen recently, if he had stocked the pantry shelves or eaten more than black coffee and dry bread in the last week; he would not feel so overcome now. Hindsight however, puts no food in the priest’s belly.

He heaves himself to his bare feet and walks, perhaps a little unsteadily, towards the stairs. Upstairs in the bathroom he carefully lathers his hands and watches the grease tinted water away into the pristine basin. He runs himself off a glass of water and drinks it slowly, resting on hand on the side of the sink as he does so.

Looking up into the mirror he tries, as he cannot seem to stop himself from trying, to see what it is in him that Jude responds to with such irrepressible want. There’s nothing that he can see; his skin is so pale that he can see the blue veins under it, his eyes circled in bruised shadows, his mouth is just a shade too feminine and his body is awkward and angular under its shabby work clothes. Sebastian is well aware that he has nothing of Jude’s effortless musculature and pale gold skin, he cannot for the life of him understand what it is that the boy wants about him.

Sebastian shrinks back from the mirror and forces his limp legs to carry him back downstairs. He opens the cupboard in the hall and takes out the furniture wax and a buffing cloth. The pews in the church are made of a dark wood that looks truly beautiful with a good polish. Of course, it is the back pew that gets the greatest effort placed into its polishing. Sebastian subconsciously expends the most energy as he buffs the place in which Jude had disgraced himself. The priest notes with some surprise that the wood there is losing its lustre, the timber appearing scrubbed bare of its coat of varnish. It surprises him, as he hadn’t thought he’d cleaned this particular spot for a while.

Sighing, Sebastian goes to return the polishing supplies, coming back to the pew with sandpaper and a pot of dark varnish instead.

There was after all, no point in only doing half the job.

Sebastian sands the wood bare, wipes the seat with a damp cloth to rid it of sawdust and then applies the varnish. He works fastidiously, covering the bare spot in an extra coat, and then retouching it until there’s a large dark patch of thick lacquer covering the very grain of the wood.

The pries admires the result of his efforts and eases the crimp in his spine with one hand. He’s tired, floating on a wave of half starved euphoria but the sight of the finished pew lifts his spirits. He is at least a good caretaker of his church, he has kept his affairs and duties in order.

This virtuous feeling lasts until he has put away the decorating supplies and allowed himself the comfort of sitting on the couch for a while. For sitting turns easily to leaning, then lying, until he slides seamlessly into sleep; only to wake thrashing in the aftermath of a half remembered dream, his veins fiery with piqued desire.

Sebastian lies on his back, eyes clenched tightly shut, one hand balled on his stomach, the other on his chest. His skin is warm, too warm, and damp with sweat. His head swims and air seems thick enough to taste as he pulls it into himself. The priest lets his hips shift and clenches his hand tighter, nails digging into his palm. He’s worked so hard this past week to put Jude out of his mind, and yet there he was, woven into his God given rest, tawny haired and smelling intoxicatingly of orange zest and spice.

He drags himself from the couch, making his uncomfortable way to the kitchen. He opens the door of his mostly empty freezer and gazes into the top compartment, at the plastic trays within, their sections filled with ice, opaque and milky. He can control his conscious mind with good works, his sleeping heart must be corralled by force and with careful deterrents.

He reaches into the freezer and removes a tray.

He goes upstairs to the bathroom.

A while later, in a bathroom scrubbed clean as bone, Sebastian dumps the last empty ice tray onto the pile on the counter. All the ice from the freezer bobs on the surface of the water, radiating its brittle chill. He lowers one foot into the tub, naked and fragile, it clenches, shaking as it touches the bottom. Once he’s fully immersed Sebastian cannot stop the shivers that rip through him, his teeth are gritted, jaw tight and spasming with chills. The ice pops and cracks around him, cold water streams from the faucet into the already mostly filled tub.

Jude. Walker.

His head slips beneath the water level.

Don't watch. Don't even think about watching him. Don't touch. Don't think about touching him. These are the rules of his life. Underneath the cold tenets and regimes he follows in his duties – these are his own, personal laws.

He opens his mouth and breaths out.

Everything is much simpler when he can't feel his skin.

He raises his nose above water level and takes another quick breath before returning to the bottom of the tub. Unbeknownst to him, the object of his anguish is currently walking through the night to reach the church.

Chapter Three

Jude already thinks this is a bad idea, scuffing through the darkened streets. It’s well after curfew and he hasn’t got his parent's say so, his boots striking off the asphalt and scruffy jeans and shirt not keeping out the cold. He's going to church at least, though in fairness, not for any reason they would be likely to approve of.

He needs to speak to Father Gray again. He needs...something. Understanding, sympathy, absolution, maybe just to see him. He isn't sure, and he doesn't think he ever will be.

Jude reaches the church and goes in, the door to the priest's office is closed, he knocks and there is no reply, but light shows under the door.

"Father Gray?" He pushes the door tentatively and it opens. The light is on, but there is no one there. The brown leather armchair behind the desk is vacant, the honey coloured light shining uninterrupted by a man’s shadow. He looks uneasily at the door to the priest's home. He frowns. There's a sound, a soft almost imagined sound, coming from behind the door. He opens it carefully, preparing to meet the displeased eyes of Father Gray himself, already bracing himself for the shock the on the man's face.

Inside the house, beside the door to the church office, is the staircase to the upper floor.

There's water running down it.

Thin rivulets of water dripping almost, but not quite soundlessly, from step to step, soaking the carpet runner and pooling on the wood.

Jude stands stock still for a moment, then starts to climb the stairs, at first in a daze of curiosity and surprise, then with growing urgency.

"Father Gray? Father!"

There's more water on the landing, a thin sheet of it welling from beneath the door at the end of the hall in a swirl that sends tiny waves across the wood. Jude splashes hectically through the water and twists the handle of the door, it opens and for a confused second he wonders why even a man who lives alone wouldn't lock his bathroom door.

Because it is a bathroom, with an old fashioned claw footed tub, overflowing with water from the cold faucet. The black and white tile floor is awash with it, a drowned washrag hovering limply in the tide. Father Gray is sprawled in the tub, held lightly by the water, dark hair moving with its waves. His eyes are closed and his skin is a grey so fine it’s almost blue.

Jude doesn't even think, he's already sloshing over the slick tiles, grabbing the slighter man under the arms and hauling him out of the tub with enough force to send both Jude and the waterlogged weight of the priest backwards and onto the bathroom floor.

He fumbles against the other mans freezing skin, trying to find a pulse. And there is one, just, weak and vague and irregular. He lifts him clumsily, until the unconscious body is half standing, half resting in his arms, dragging him from the bathroom and bumping doors open until he can find a bed. Leaving him for a second he goes back and twists the faucet off, yanking the plug from the bathtub and grabbing all the towels he can find. He drops them onto the floor to soak up the water, retaining one with which to dry the man in the bedroom.

Father Gray makes no movements as Jude chafes the towel over his frigid skin, drying his hair, blue-black and untidy, chasing the water from his limbs and chest with the swatch of dark blue fabric. He barely takes in the details of the man beneath him, the dark hair on his chest and the fragile bones of his body showing through the pale skin. He doesn't react to the sight of his naked groin, just gets him dry and then lifts him again, bundling him into the bed and covering him with the blankets.

Two things stay with him from the brief period in which he had the priest naked before him. Firstly that he looked as if he hadn't eaten properly for weeks, and secondly that the tops of his thighs were lividly bruised and marked with fingernail crescents, over and over until the skin had wept and grown sore.

Jude runs his hand over the softly drying mess of dark hair that tops the pale, unconscious face of the priest.

He doesn't know any prayers for this.

Whilst waiting for the priest to regain consciousness, Jude cleans up most of the water with a mop from a cupboard in the kitchen. Aside from the flooding, the place is immaculate, unnaturally clean and tidy. He imagines the priest cleaning this place, as he must have done recently, feverishly, to achieve this kind of cleanliness. He thinks of his own room, a flurry of minor destruction in the wake of his upset. This dustless house has the same feel to it.

In the bedroom he finds that Father Gray hasn't stirred, not that he was expecting him to. Jude watches the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath the blankets, catching the occasional convulsive shiver as the man's body tries to warm itself on too little fuel. He wishes he could take off his own sodden jeans and shirt, crawl under the sheets and press his slightly warmer body, stronger, younger, against the frail body of the priest. He holds back only because he knows the priest would not look favourably on him for the action.

Instead he climbs on top of the covers, fully clothed, lying as close as he can without actually touching him.

In the stillness of the hour or so it takes for the other man to wake up, Jude has time to take in the sight of the room. The duvet he’s lying on is dark blue, like the curtains that cover the window. The walls are cream and hung with the kind of pictures you find in the homes of elderly women – birds, fruit and flowers, painted in the centre of blank, cream cards. There’s an old stereo, mid-eighties at least, on the far side of the room, by a fitted wardrobe.

Turning his attention from the fairly pedestrian room, Jude examines the already familiar features of the priest, going over them again and again like the print in a well loved book. The other man is beautiful. Jude would never admit to thinking it, but there is no other word to describe it. The frightening grey of his skin has returned to its normal paleness, his lashes are smudges of darkness beneath bruise coloured eyelids. His lips relaxed from their usual hard pressed line into a soft blur of pink.

Under his gaze the other man shifts slightly, frowning as he begins to wake. Jude instantly feels like he's been caught doing something perverted. He's only looking, looking at the priest's face, it's not like he's pulling back the sheets to get another good look at his body.

The priest's eyes open suddenly, blue sparking up in their formerly senseless depths.

"Jude?" He takes in his own nakedness, shifting beneath the sheets, then Jude, and the fact that they're in his bedroom. "What happened?" He tries to sit up, but fails and slides weakly back against the pillows.

"Nothing." Jude presses a hand down on the other man's blanket covered torso, easing him back onto the mattress. "Nothing, you just had an accident." He keeps his voice soft, almost a whisper. The priest frowns, then his eyes flicker in understanding and he looks towards the door.

"I fell asleep." He mutters.

"You passed out."

The priest's eyes close again, a line of tension appearing between them.

"When was the last time you ate something?"

He makes a sound between a grumble and a whine. Jude abruptly feels bad for pressing him, clearly he's struggling enough.

"I'll make you something, alright?" He soothes. "You promise you'll eat it?"

Sebastian, woken bleary and warm from a sleep so deep he was free of his dreams, confronted with Jude in his damp clothes, eyes wide with concern for him, crumples under the weight of his kindness. His will has been over stretched; he's too tired to fight his desire to give in to Jude's care.

"Yes." He nods once. "I'd like that." The boy looks at him as if he's weighing the risks of leaving him alone again, then climbs off of the bed and walks out of the room. Dimly Sebastian hears him make his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. He lets his head fall back against the pillows.

He remembers nothing from the time he was lying in the bath tub, freezing water covering him completely. He supposes it was inevitable that his exhaustion would catch up with him, but to be laid low in this way by measures he took only to safeguard himself, it hurts him more than he'd care to admit. He wonders what it is that is required of him, if not to help Jude because of his own preoccupation with the boy, if not to resist him because his body is too weak to endure without softness, without warmth, then what?

What must he do to save himself, or to save them both?

What does God want from him?

He tries to think, to pray, but there's nothing. Silence where the words should be. He can't even begin to address God like this, when he needs him most.

Jude returns with over milked coffee and a solitary pop tart. He sets both on the night stand and nods at them. Sebastian takes the hint and sets to the food, realising that he's moaned around his first bite only when Jude squirms at the sound.

He swallows.

"My apologies." He feels a faint flush of shame. To have fallen so low. He looks up only to find that Jude's eyes aren't on his, they're fixed on his mouth.

Jude watches the pad of the priest's tongue wipe away the smudge of frosting on his lower lip. The resulting stab of arousal is so sharp it hurts. Twisting cruelly in his stomach. He draws his knees up to his chest, sitting on the furthest corner of the bed, but he can't stop watching.

"Do your parents know you're here?" Sebastian drinks the coffee methodically, feeling it burn his throat and settle in his chest.

Jude shakes his head.

"Why are you here?" He sets the mug aside, tugging the blankets as high as they will go. "Not that I'm not grateful for your intervention...but...it probably wasn't your intended purpose."

"I wanted to see you...just see you." Jude tells him awkwardly.

"I think you've seen enough of me." He shifts under the blankets. "Especially tonight." He shivers convulsively and Jude moves without thinking, drawing the blankets closer and pressing them to the other man, wrapping an arm over him. The priest's body goes tight and resisting.

"You're cold." Jude mutters. "And I didn't...I didn't touch you, like that...while you were out." It's beyond awkward but he has to make it known. He doesn't want to be thought of like that.

"I know." Sebastian makes a concerted effort to relax himself. "This is..." his tongue chases across his dry lips, eyes closing as he struggles with himself. "This is too much, I'm sorry." He tries to push away from Jude but shudders in the cold and can't move far enough to stop the boy gently bringing him back.

"How is this bad?" he whispers against the shell of the priest's ear, tickly and soft. "You need me. I'm here. You're naked, but I'm not." The other man relaxes into him, no long tensed against the barrier of his arms. "It's not bad, for me to want to take care of you...is it?" It's an honest question, not rhetoric.

Sebastian can only shake his head dumbly, and for once it feels so good to say 'No'.

"Ok...then can I stay here, with you?"Another nod. Jude pulls him closer and buries his face in the warm hair at the back of the priest’s neck.

"What's your name, your real name, Father?" Sebastian feels the whisper as much as he hears it.

"Sebastian."

Jude smiles into the sensitive place behind the older man’s ear.

"Hello Sebastian."

Sebastian can't pinpoint the moment he falls asleep, but nevertheless when Jude wakes him it's slightly lighter outside and he's aware that they've moved slightly, Jude no longer sitting, but curled around against his back, the blankets warm between them.

"Hey" Jude says softly. "I have to get back, my parents are going to wonder where I am otherwise." Sebastian stirs. "You don't have to get up." Jude presses him back to the bed. "Rest, I don't have anything to do today, I'll bring some groceries by later. Your kitchen looks like it’s been looted." He hesitates, then leans forward and presses a short kiss to the other man's forehead. "See you later Sebastian."

"Thank you, Jude." Sebastian feels overwhelmed with sleepy, slightly ill, fatigue and too much emotion. "Just...thank you."

"We can talk later." Jude pads to the door. "Get some sleep."

Sebastian does, knocked out again before he hears the front door close.

***

Jude manages to get home, through the backdoor and up into bed, just in time to be woken by Aaron shoving the door open and telling him it's time for breakfast. Downstairs Jude prods sleepily at his plate of pancakes, unable to stop thinking about the priest's, Sebastian's, abused body. He remembers the feel of the older man’s ribs through his chest as he hauled him out of the bath tub. He’d been so thin, so fragile, and Jude could not imagine leaving the priest for very long, he needed to return and take care of him. A fierce protective instinct had awoken in him, one even he didn’t fully understand.

"Mom, do you mind if I skip out on yard work today?"

"There had better be a good reason." His Dad glares at him over the auto manual he's propped against his coffee mug.

"I heard yesterday that Father Gray was sick...thought I'd take some groceries over there and see if he has anything needs doing." He feels his parents exchange a look, this is the most communicative he's been for over a week.

"Sure honey." His mother sets a glass of juice down in front of Aaron. "Tell him we're thinking of him." Jude looks down into his breakfast again.

"Will do."

He takes twenty dollars from the stash he's hiding at the bottom of his dresser and goes to the corner market on his way to the church. He has no idea what Sebastian likes, so he sticks to the basics; coffee, milk, eggs, bacon and any kind of cookie that comes to hand.

By the time he gets over to the priest's home Sebastian is awake again, dressed in faded jeans that he mostly keeps for yard work, and a plain white T-shirt that makes him look paler than ever. He opens the door to Jude and instantly looks wary. He's recovered himself enough to think on the inappropriateness of sleeping, naked, in the arms of an underage boy.

"Jude." His expression flutters between pleased and cautious. He takes in the bag of food in the boys arms. "You really didn't have to..."

"I wanted to." Jude shifts the weight more comfortably. He looks down at the ground between the priest's bare feet. "It's something I can do, for you."

Sebastian recalls well the feeling of Jude's warm body, smooth and yielding beneath its faded denim, separated from his own skin by a few layers of cloth only. There is a lot Jude does to him, for him, and so much that he wants besides.

"Thank you." He moves back a little, allowing the boy into his home once more and knowing as he does so that he's crossing a line, yet another line between what they should be and what they are becoming.

Jude follows him into the kitchen, putting the boxes and packages away while Sebastian watches. The kitchen, like the rest of the house, is painted cream with a honey coloured wood floor and cabinets. The kitchen island is hung about with pans and utensils, all bright and clean and looking as unused as a display in a store. The fruit in the bowl in the centre of the granite island is neat and orderly, three green apples, three red. All the appliances are second hand and mismatched; a silver toaster, a white kettle, a black oven and a green refrigerator. There’s no sign of any recent culinary activity.

"Did you have breakfast yet?" Jude asks, pausing with a carton of milk in his hand. Sebastian gestures towards the cup of black coffee and the remainder of a slice of dry toast on the kitchen island, formerly hidden by the fruit bowl. Jude frowns.

"You've got to have more than that." He retrieves packages from the refrigerator and takes a pan down from the rack. "Sit, I'll make you eggs." Jude becomes aware of how forward he's being, he's never ordered the priest around before, never overruled his word. He chances a look at the older man, prepared to apologise or receive a lecture for his impudence. Instead Sebastian is watching him with an odd look on his face.

"I would appreciate that, thank you." He says, slowly and as if the words are foreign to him. It's been so long since someone cared for him as their own, as anything other than a facet of the community, as a man and not a priest.

Jude turns back to the business of making breakfast, aware of the other man's eyes on him the entire time. The back of his neck prickles with the feeling of being watched, and he finds himself moving just to give Sebastian something to look at. Eventually he steps back from the stove, places a plate of food in front of the other man and sitting across from him as Sebastian begins to eat, small bites passing neatly between his lips as he slowly consumes the food.

"So..." Jude starts, looking down at his hands on the kitchen counter. "Are we going to talk about this?"

"There's really nothing to speak about." Sebastian sets his fork aside awkwardly. "I’m grateful for your intervention. I was comforted by your presence. There was no sin in it, but it cannot continue. You know that."

"You said there's nothing wrong with me caring for you."

"I said..." Sebastian swallows. "Academically no, but it's a technicality, we cannot become intimate...we cannot be intimate, and to admit to any kind of want between us is to open the door to folly."

There's a moment of heavy silence.

"You have no idea what it did to me...not seeing you." Jude murmurs. “I thought I just wanted you, I didn’t know how much losing you would hurt. You have no idea.” Sebastian avoids his eye. "or maybe you do and that's why..." he feels himself getting upset, memories of the previous night striking him in all their slow-motion horror.”Finding you like that was the worst thing that's ever happened to me...Hell has nothing on that..."

"You know nothing, of Hell." Sebastian insists, bitterly. He hates that he allowed Jude to see him like that, that he failed to keep himself in control of his own body. "Hell is something so terrible no one can conceive of it, and that is where we are going if we don't remain strong." He breathes unsteadily. "You will go to Hell, Jude, if you allow me to touch you...and I will go to Hell for finding any kind of pleasure in you..." His voice is strained, the boy watching with a rapt kind of horror, taking it all in, the harshest sermon he has yet to deliver, and yet still that surge of want, of, and the priest hesitates to admit it, love. The desire to comfort, to hold, is bright in the boy's eyes. "You have no idea how much..." Sebastian falters. "But it is not worth my soul, not worth damning someone as young as yourself, as innocent..."

"I'm not." Jude says automatically.

"Jude..."

"I'm not innocent, am I Father?" he insists, challenge evident in him. "The things I feel for you...the things I want to do...none of that makes me innocent...do you remember why I came to you? And why you sent me away, for..." his face almost crumples with the contrition that weighs heavy in his chest. "For touching myself...Sebastian..." his name on the boy's lips is the worst kind of temptation, intense and undiluted.”For thinking of you and putting my hand on myself." He lets the word strike for him. "In church Father, in the middle of a sermon...I'm already damned."

"No, you're not." Sebastian shakes his head. "That's nothing compared to what you have left to lose, you won't know innocence until you lose it...Jude please listen to me."

"If you tell me, that you didn't miss me." Jude challenges, jaw set. "Sebastian you...tortured yourself, you almost died, you can't tell me that you weren't thinking about me the whole time."

The priest closes his eyes.

"Tell me you don't want me." Jude's quiet voice hammers into Sebastian’s mind, a command to the suppressed demons of his psyche. "Tell me you don't love me...and I'll go." He finishes softly.

"Please, don't do this to me." The priest pleads, his throat thickening and a kind of unbearable tension straining in his body. It’s true that his initial attraction to the boy has grown as he’s watched the boy struggle, but so has his affection. Sebastian no longer merely finds Jude attractive, but feels for him to a depth that after such a short time is surprising. He had not known he was capable of such feeling, and so strong.

"Tell. Me." Jude is half braced for rejection, half hopeful.

"Jude..."

"Sebastian." The strength of Jude’s voice makes the older man flinch.

The priest drops his head into his hands and says, so quietly that Jude almost misses the words.

"I love you...and I cannot bear to condemn you...not to this..." he looks up. "Jude...I'm...monstrous...I..." Words fail him and tears burn in his eyes.

Jude's on him in an instant, arms closing around him, bundling the slimmer man against his chest and burying his face against the top of his head. Sebastian's whole body shakes with his first sob, and he can't, he just can't, not anymore. He can't pretend that he isn't just a man, that he isn't scared and lonely and just so, unbearably human. He's disgusting and he's weak. Jude rocks him gently, shushing softly with every harsh sob that comes from the other man.

"I love you." Jude murmur's against the priest's hair. "It's ok...it's alright...I love you, Sebastian."Still, Sebastian can't stop crying.

Jude holds the broken priest, feeling the shoulder of his T-shirt slowly grow damp and listening to the tiny sounds of his sobs, muffled by the cloth. He can feel the sharpness of his shoulder blades beneath his hands, the knobs of the older man's spine. He swallows thickly, the texture of the priest's shirt soft and worn under his hands as he soothes his back. He tells him over and over again that it's ok, that he loves him, that there is nothing disgusting in him, that he is perfect.

Sebastian trembles against him.

Jude hooks his fingers under the other man's jaw, drawing his head up and pressing his dry lips against his, flavoured with salt and bitten rough. It's a kiss, though an innocent one, as Jude keeps his mouth closed. The priest makes a small sound in the back of his throat, Jude strokes his hair gently, kissing him again, shaky and quick.

"Sebastian?"

The priest shakes his head, eyes screwed shut, lines of wetness showing on his pale skin.

"Please look at me." Jude touches the side of his face and the other man opens his eyes, fierce bright blue showing between the reddened lids. Jude kisses him again, slowly, feeling the other man's mouth move a little against his own, a gruff sound of pleasure and misery caught in his throat. Jude moves away, stroking a thumb across Sebastian's lips.

"I don't want to have this conversation again." He manages, all seventeen years of his authority going into every word. "I'm not leaving you, and I'm not going to damn you." His breath is warm on Sebastian's face, his chest tight. "I love you." The boy shakes his head wonderingly. “I know it sounds...that there hasn’t been enough time and...but I do...believe me, please.”

"I love you too." Though even as Sebastian says it he moves away from Jude. "I just don’t understand how I allowed it to happen.” He looks into the boy’s eyes. “Jude, i have no idea of how to deal with this. Attraction, yes...despite all appearances I am well versed in handling that. But anything else...I fear I’m out of my element.”

They sit in silence until Jude speaks again.

"You know, I'm legal, in a few months..." Jude says haltingly.

Sebastian looks stricken. "That isn't...that's not what I meant." Sebastian groans exasperatedly. Jude hunches a little at that, confused more than ever by the older man. "Jude...I'm not waiting for you to come of age, purely so I can..." he struggles.”Take you."

"I didn't think that, I don't think that." Jude takes the priest's hand and weaves their fingers together. "I just meant that, I'm old enough to choose, and I choose this, us."

"There can't be an us."

"There can." Jude holds on to him defiantly. "If you love me, I'll stay, we can be together, just like this. I don't need anything else."

"Jude...quite aside from the fact that it is simply out of the question...” The priest’s eyes drop to his own hands out of awkwardness. “You’re going to want to have sex." Sebastian looks like he doesn't want to believe this, but he does all the same. "And you should. You should get married and have children with, a woman." He stresses.

"And if I don't want that?"

"There's a reason I took my vows, Jude." Sebastian looks suddenly thinner and older than he should. "I couldn't commit to marriage, so I bonded myself with the church." He feels a surge of frustration, “For all the good it has done me.” he says quietly.

"So that's it? You don't get an...outlet? Just because you didn't want to lie to some woman about who you are?" Jude strokes his hand. "You get to love God and live alone your whole life?"

"It's safer." Sebastian's gaze strikes Jude's eyes. "You kissed me." He says, as if this is all the proof he needs that they are most definitely not safe together.

"If I come to see you again, are you going to turn me away?" Sebastian looks down at their hands. "Because I meant it Sebastian, I'm not going to keep telling you why you deserve something, anything, for yourself. I'm just going to be here, as long as you keep letting me in."

At the other man’s continued silence, Jude gets up from his seat and walks towards the door, knowing that this might be the last of it, the last time he lays eyes on Sebastian, the man, and not his priest, Father Gray.

"Jude..." Sebastian touches his retreating back lightly and Jude turns around.

"I will let you in." Jude takes Sebastian’s still slightly outstretched hand and presses a blunt kiss to its knuckles.

"Then I'll keep coming to see you."

As Jude leaves the priest’s home and goes back to his parents and his own house, Sebastian settles himself on the couch in his living room. It’s a second hand thing, green corduroy studded with fabric covered buttons at the back. He scrunches himself up in the corner of it, covering himself with a knitted blanket and leaning on the cushion. He feels invalided and tired.

Right now, if he was to swear a vow to God it would be this:

Dear Father, if you allow me this one transgression against your word, that of my love for another man, I swear I shall not consummate or compound my error further. I will endeavour to protect both myself and Jude from temptation, and take full responsibility on myself for the boy's purity.

Father, if you let me love this boy I...

That is where it would fall down. He has nothing to offer God accept the love that he has already freely given him. Nothing else seems worth what he is asking, what he wants. No act of charity or of penance can equal the freedom to love and be loved.

He does not make such a vow because part of him feels that it is not something he has the right to ask. He cannot bargain with God. Instead he prays, curled on a couch that smells of some other priest’s long dead feline companion – Father if I should fail in myself; please lay the blame with me and not with him. He is innocent, he was always innocent. It's the most he can do to reassure himself, that he has protected Jude as far as he is able, pre-empting his own weakness.

For he is nothing but weak.

Chapter Four

True to his word Jude visits as much as he can, and Sebastian always opens the door and lets him into his home. The first time Jude returns to him Sebastian isn’t expecting him, though he’s been longing for Jude’s company despite himself. He invites him into his home and for a while it is awkward. Jude has brought him food and they sit on opposite sides of the kitchen table eating. The silence worries him for the first hour of their first meeting, until Jude breaks it with,

"I have no idea what to say to you." He rubs a hand over his face. "Pretty sure everything that's gone through my mind is dumb."

Sebastian wonders how Jude sees him, older, more intelligent and experienced certainly. But Jude is the more interesting of them both, and he tells him so.

"Jude, I've been in the seminary and then in service for a long time." He smiles slightly. "Anything you have to say would interest me greatly."

Jude looks at him for a long moment.

"When did you start training for this then?" he asks, hands fiddling with a cookie, crumbling it between his fingers nervously.

"My late teens...I'd always been involved with the church though, choir...alter service...my parents were devoted, I had very little time for anything else."

"So...you never did kid stuff? Movies, comics...music?" Jude looks aghast but hopeful.

"No." Sebastian shakes his head and Jude beams, a smile opening up his face in a way that makes Sebastian strangely grateful for his deprived childhood. Jude gets up from the table and bolts for the door.

"Wait there."

Sebastian does as instructed.

What Jude returns with is the tape from his walkman. Sebastian's one and only high-fi system, an ancient thing that had been donated for a charity sale some years ago and never purchased under the rule of his predecessor, is in the corner of his bedroom. Jude leads him upstairs and slots the tape into the machine dubiously, motioning for Sebastian to sit on the bed.

He plays both sides of the cassette, talking during the lull between each song, telling him about the band, the title, the musicians themselves. He knows each song by heart and the order in which they play. Sebastian listens to him talk, taking it all in and observing the passion with which Jude speaks of his music, which was once his father's music, the tape bearing as it does recordings from Samuel Walker's discarded albums.

Halfway through the second side, 'Bad Moon Rising' inexplicably playing low as a burr on the half broken speakers, Jude abandons his place at the foot of the stereo, climbing onto the bed and lying Sebastian down so that his head rests in Jude's lap. Half sitting, half lying himself, Jude strokes idle fingers through the older man’s hair.

Sebastian lets his eyes close, it's been...well, since he was a child, since someone petted him in such a way. Whilst some part of him is disconcerted by the fact that he's allowing it to happen, the rest of him is content with Jude's touches.

"So what did you do, when you were my age? What were you like?...seventeen year old Seb?" Jude asks gently.

Sebastian sighs sleepily, noting the nickname and feeling a flush of warmth in his chest at its tender allocation.

"Dull I suppose...I liked to read, play chess..." He sighs and closes his eyes, listening to the music.

"Read what?" Jude presses.

"Oh...anything." he can feel Jude's fingers tracing his temple. "Science fiction, gothic horror, philosophy, dime novellas..."

"You ever read 'Christine'?"

"The Stephen King novel? Of course, you like it?" he opens his eyes and tips his head slightly to look at the boy.

"Dude, killer car, what's not to like?" Jude shifts slightly, wriggling to the side and lying down, laying his arm around the priest's waist. "Did you watch the movie? Because I have it...I could bring it for you, next time."

"I'd like that." Sebastian smiles at him and they just lie like that, face to face, Jude's arm over him, his head leaning on Sebastian's outstretched arm, listening to the tape slowly spool over into silence.

Jude begins to excuse himself from home as much as he can without arousing suspicion. He goes to Sebastian's home for an hour after school most days, claiming that he likes to walk the long way home now. After dinner some nights he excuses himself to go for a run, sprinting back home from the church so he looks tired afterwards.

The evenings he spends with the priest are glorious. They usually start with dinner, that is, dinner for Sebastian, which Jude helps him to make and then watches him eat, usually with a backing of whatever tape he's made up for him out of his records.

They've already watched 'Christine' 'Carrie' and 'Salem's Lot' lying close to each other on the bed but being careful to restrict themselves to touching only each other's arms, hands and faces. A palm smoothed over Jude's back while he rests on his elbows, wrapping his arms around Sebastian during a particularly scary portion of that nights feature. They know their limits and neither wants to test them.

Sebastian also has a rather large collection of novels, which Jude only discovers on his third visit.

"Seriously? You've read all of these?" He plucks down a copy of the high fantasy novel Elijah’s Gate and flips through it.

"I have a lot of spare time, in the evenings."

Jude looks up at him, and then tugs him down onto the couch, sitting in front of him.

"Read to me?"

Sebastian frowns. "Why would you want..."

"I like your voice...and I...I never hear you read just to me, it's always in church." He mutters. Sebastian looks at him for a moment more before opening the book,

"I think of the lives other people live, cloistered and cleverly closeted with their possessions in brick boxes. I think of those lives, and wish for them, for their cookie cutter precision. I wish I could live in such a box, and feel its sharp corners at my back...”

Jude listens, enraptured as much by the priest's voice as by the steadily unfolding horror of the narrative as it dissolves into a full-on and unexpectedly violent vampire story. Somewhere during his recitation, Sebastian feels Jude lie down on the couch, head on his thigh. The contact skirts what he can bear, but he focuses on the lines on the page and soon the warm weight of Jude fades to a comforting presence only, not the fierce heat that would make him ache with tension.

They finish the book within a week and soon the readings are added to their routine. After the movies that Jude brings to him, Sebastian selects books to read and Jude lies in his lap to listen and interject with his comments on the characters or where he thinks the story is headed. Sometimes Jude takes the book from him and lays Sebastian down, reading a chapter or two so that the priest can rest his voice.

One night, whilst Sebastian is taking a rest and sipping at his tea, hand holding the book open in the expectation of a continued reading, Jude asks him the question he’s been dreading most of his adult life.

“Seb...when you were my age...how did it feel?”

He can’t pretend he doesn’t understand the purpose of the question, or the meaning of it. How did it feel? How did he come to understand the strangeness in himself? Here is the boy who has tapped into that deep darkness so effortlessly, now lifting the area rug from the trapdoor he’d thought so well hidden, opening the lid on his own choice memories.

“Frightening.” He begins. “Truly...the most frightening experience I can recall...was realising that there was a word...just one word...for everything that was wrong with me.” He looks down at the book, spreading his fingers over the black type and reading scattered words and letters in an attempt to calm himself.

Jude touches his hand, warm fingers soothing his own.

“When did you find out?” he asks, hesitantly.

“I was twelve.” And Sebastian feels sharply taken back in time, until he is that twelve year old boy in his green school jumper and black slacks, suddenly aware of a desire to enfold his friend Jacob in his arms and not let go, but rather to move his hands and touch, and feel the rest of his body. To run his hands down the boy’s back and touch his waist and wrists – the thousand touches that friends were not permitted. It hurts to recall the intensity, the relative innocence of that time, those simple wants that, at the time, he did not fully understand as being what they were.

An impulse towards sin.

“I had a friend...Jacob...and I found I envied those with whom he spent any of his time, I wanted him with me, and I’d think of things that I wanted him to see, things I wanted to tell him, listing them – even when we were only apart for a few hours.”He wraps his fingers around Jude’s. “I used to think that I would never want anyone around as much as I wanted Jacob, that his presence and no one else’s made some moments the best they could possibly be.”

“Did you ever tell him?” Jude is rapt and Sebastian feels a pang of sinful, sorrowful pride, that even now he can command attention. He needs no lectern to make his point.

“Yes.” He smiles without humour, looking down at their joined hands. “I told him the year I turned fourteen, that I loved him, that I wanted him to always be my friend, to always be mine before he was anyone else’s....and that I would be his.”

He can hear Jude’s expectant breathing.

“He called me...oh...every name under the sun for what I am.” He sighs. “He told my parents...I was their only son and they took it...incredibly hard. They sent me away to a church camp. I studied the bible and scrubbed floors for a year, and they taught me everything I now know about temptation and resisting it.”

Jude is silent for a while.

Sebastian picks up the book and makes as if to begin the reading again.

“He didn’t deserve you, forever.” Jude says quietly, before leaning against the priest’s side, a warm weight that combats the chill of remembrance in the man’s veins.

They argue about some things of courses; that Jude spends too much time with him, and therefore risks his parents becoming suspicious is one of Sebastian's main points of contention. But they are not so serious that they cannot be soothed with a stretch of silence and an apology. Jude continues to visit, and Sebastian's feelings continue to grow, matching the boy's gaining affections.

They part on all occasions inside the hall, out of sight of the windows in the porch, and Sebastian allows himself a brief kiss to the boy's forehead, feeling Jude's mouth on his knuckles afterwards, or else, pressing against his cheek.

It is the most innocent that he can be, these meetings which gratify their need for intimacy, for each other's company and conversation. Sebastian knows that there is something else between them that he cannot entertain, but it is all right for a few hours to pretend that they are like any other kind of lovers. He is grateful for that.

Jude himself is enjoying this arrangement more than he originally thought he would. Sebastian is genuinely interesting, their nights together much more than just conversation. Jude is blown away by him, by his thoughts and his voice and the way he watches things intently like he's really trying to work them out. The way he pretty much whoops Jude at chess every time they play, and then explains how he did it, so Jude never makes the same mistakes twice.

He loves being with Sebastian, and he knows that it's right, that he was right to want it. It is the first time he's felt righteous in a good long time, and the first time he knows he's not hurting Sebastian with his presence.

***

Jude’s eighteenth birthday occurs four months after he begins to see the priest on a regular basis. At the back of his mind the teenager has been counting down to this day as a symbol of his approaching freedom. Soon it will not matter what anyone else thinks of him and Sebastian, they will be within both the law of man and the law of God. Jude can hardly wait.

“Morning.” Jude’s mother greets him brightly as he enters the kitchen, scrubbing a hand through his hair sleepily. There is a green balloon tied to the back of his chair at the breakfast table, and a small pile of green wrapped gifts on his place mat.

“How does it feel to be all grown up?” His mother asks.

“Pretty good.” Jude sits down at the table, listening to his Father and brother as they come down the stairs for breakfast.

“Hey son, eighteen today.” Samuel claps a hand on Jude’s shoulder and sits down opposite him. “Still feels like yesterday you were running round the house with your underpants on your head.”

Jude frowns at him with mock severity. Aaron chuckles into his juice.

His Mother appears at his side and puts a plate of sweet corn pancakes, warm syrup and bacon in front of him. His favourite breakfast, and one he has made for Sebastian twice since they started seeing each other. Jude smiles, both in response to the presentation of his birthday breakfast and in memory of the way he and Seb have planned on spending the day.

“Thanks Mom.” Jude digs into his pancakes, eating quickly enough to earn himself a tut and an indulgent smile from his long suffering Mother.

“Takes twenty minutes to make, and you hoover it up in less than five.” She chides.

“I’m a growing man.” Jude sputters defensively, his mouth full of sweet, spongy cake.

“I hope I’m still around to see your metabolism break down.” His Dad says, raising his eyebrows at his own small stack of syrup-less pancakes.

“It happens when it happens, till then...” Jude gestures at his plate with his loaded fork. “Syrupy pancake goodness.” He picks up a strip of crisp meat. “And bacon.” He bites into it. “Bacon makes the whole world better.”

“Do you want to go and see a movie today?” Aaron asks, cutting his own breakfast into small squares and pinning them precisely with his fork for transference to his mouth. “There’s a new action thing out with Bruce Willis.”

Jude chews his bacon nervously, he had predicted this but it was still hard to go through with.

“Actually, I feel kind of bad, but I’ve got something on today with Prue and Ben.” He smiles cajolingly at his younger brother. “Maybe tomorrow?”

“Sure.” Aaron shrugs like it doesn’t matter, but Jude knows it’s going to take a slushy and a bucket of salted popcorn at his expense before his brother bounces back to his usual puppyish enthusiasm. Still, Jude had decided weeks ago what he wanted for his birthday, and he’d finally gotten Sebastian to agree to it a few nights ago. Jude wanted to stay the whole day with Seb, doing what they usually did; reading, cooking, watching old movies and curling up on the couch without outside interruptions. He was eighteen, he could choose exactly how he wanted to spend his days now. He wanted to start that off by choosing Sebastian.

“Why don’t you open your gifts?” His Mother gets up to refill his Dad’s coffee and Jude picks up the first green parcel. He tears the paper off and reveals a DVD of last year’s hit espionage movie.

“Thanks Aaron.” He smirks at his brother and Aaron gives him a half smile back.

The presents from his parents are ‘The Definitive Student Guide to Life’, a new wristwatch with a leather strap and a matching leather bound journal with a parker fountain pen. He thanks his parents and transfers the journal and pen, along with the DVD into his messenger bag. Jude puts the watch on and calls goodbye to his family as he heads out the door.

He walks to the church with a genuine smile on his face, feeling free and independent. He’s walking to Sebastian’s home and he’s going to spend the whole day with him. Jude envisions the birthdays he has yet to come, and how year after year he will be freer and freer to spend them with Sebastian.

He goes into the church and into the office at the rear of the building, opening the adjoining door and crossing into Sebastian’s house.

“Sebastian?” he calls from the hallway.

The priest appears in the kitchen doorway, still wearing a pair of blue pyjamas and a grey towelling robe. He looks sleepy and embarrassed by Jude’s presence.

“Late start?” Jude asks, eyebrow quirking as he walks towards the kitchen.

“Clearly.” Grumbles the older man. “I’m in the middle of making breakfast...” he glances awkwardly back at the kitchen, then seems to remember why Jude is in his house so early, he turns back, smiling sheepishly. “Happy Birthday Jude.”

“Good morning Father Gray.” Jude tilts his head seriously, “Are you aware your toast is burning?”

Sebastian widens his eyes and bolts back into the kitchen, followed by a chuckling Jude. His toast is indeed burning and Sebastian wrangles the slices from the toaster and drops them on the counter, blowing on his fingers peevishly.

“I assure you, I am not completely incompetent.” He gripes as Jude swats him lightly out of the way and puts two new slices of bread into the toaster.

“I believe you.” Jude goes to the refrigerator and takes out the butter, grabbing a jar of jelly from the cupboard on his way back to the counter.

“You have a new watch.” Sebastian observes. “A gift I assume?”

“Part of the ‘go forth my son and be a man’ package.” Jude shrugs as he retrieves the perfect toast and places a knife tip of butter onto it, waiting for it to soften. Sebastian still buys old-fashioned blocks of butter and keeps them in a china crock in the fridge.

“I got you something.” Sebastian says quietly.

Jude hadn’t felt such sudden, gift related, enthusiasm since his seventh birthday when his parents had bought him the robot dog he’d mooned over for months in the catalogues. That was eleven years ago, he thinks, marvelling.

“Really? Can I have it?” He grins.

Sebastian wavers. “It’s not very good.” He rests a hand on the counter. “I thought I’d have more time...it’s not really something I bought.” He gestures to the round green tin by his hand.

Jude opens it and looks down at the two identical cake layers, bare of both frosting and jelly.

“You made me a cake?” Warmth fills his chest.

“It’s...” Sebastian’s hands twitch awkwardly. “It was a stupid idea, but I couldn’t sleep and I had eggs and butter...”

“It’s a good cake.” Jude reassures him. “My Dad says I’m too old for birthday cake...I haven’t had one since I was fifteen.” He grins. “You got any frosting?”

That is how Jude spends the morning of his eighteenth birthday with a priest, who’s still wearing his pyjamas, frosting a cake with a can of Betty Crocker’s finest.

“How’s that?” Jude rotates the cake plate with his head on one side, his knees on the floor so he’s at eye level with the frosted sponge.

“Almost even.” Sebastian stands on the other side of the island, palate knife in hand, loaded with more chocolate goo. “There’s a little too much on the left.”

“Or not enough on the right.”

Seb’s indulgent smile broadens, his eyes crinkling. “So you’re a cake half smothered kind of person?”

“And you’re the kind to remove frosting from a cake?” Jude shakes his head. “Knew there had to be something wrong with you.”

Sebastian chuckles to himself, a glob of frosting drops from the palate knife onto his sleeve. He looks down and realises that he’s still wearing his pyjamas.

“I should get changed.”

“I like it.” Jude glances up at him. “It’s very...comfy looking, and all rumpled.”

“So I look homeless.”

“Human.” Jude grins.

“I’m still getting dressed.” Seb sighs. “I’ll be down in a minute.” The priest goes upstairs and Jude evens out the icing on the cake. He’s comfortable in Sebastian’s home now; he knows where he keeps the big coffee mugs, the cake forks and plates. In only a few months he has become familiar with all the workings of Sebastian’s house.

“It’s finished.” Jude proclaims as Sebastian walks back into kitchen, now wearing an open collared black shirt and his tattered yard work jeans, his bare feet protruding from the unravelling cuffs.

“Thank you for your help.” Sebastian looks at the finished cake with satisfaction. He opens a drawer under the microwave and produces a plastic fronted package of blue birthday candles and a box of matches.

“I get a wish?” Jude grins in amusement, which is only heightened when Sebastian blushes.

“Like I said, it was a stupid idea.” He mutters.

“It’s cute.” Jude watches him set the candles around the edge of the cake in their holders, striking a match to light them with the efficiency of someone long used to the practice of lighting candles en mass. Something occurs to him. “Have you never made a birthday cake before?”

Sebastian shrugs, shaking out the match and placing the blackened strip of wood on top of the box.

“Make a wish.” He says pointedly.

Jude rolls his eyes, then closes them and thinks for a second, before leaning forwards and blowing out the candles. He opens his eyes and looks at Sebastian. The older man sighs.

“My parents thought letting me cook would cause needless mess.” Sebastian produces a knife from a drawer in the kitchen island and cuts a slice of cake. “But after I moved out and went to train, I didn’t have any reason to make one.”

He plates up two slices of cake.

“I know it’s a little early for cake but...what?” The priest asks, catching the odd look in Jude’s eyes.

“Nothing, just...” Jude rounds the kitchen island and hugs the older man, arms around his waist, forehead against Seb’s chest. “Sometimes I forget that you missed this stuff.” He leans back and looks up at the older man. “I brought a movie. Let’s go eat birthday cake.”

They put the movie on in Sebastian’s bedroom and Jude lies on his stomach on the bed, leaning on one of his hands and using the other to fork up cake. Sebastian sits back against the headboard and watches the spy movie and Jude’s legs as the boy waves his feet in the air. After a while Jude finishes his cake and slides up the bed to rest his head against Sebastian’s stomach.

“Good cake Seb.” He sighs.

“Thank you.” Sebastian rests his hand on Jude’s head. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

They watch the movie in silence for a while.

“Seb, when’s your birthday?”

“May.” Sebastian admits.

“You mean I missed it?”

“I seldom acknowledge it.” Sebastian reassures him.

Jude digests this.

“So you’re thirty one now?”

“Yes, I am.”

Jude pauses again.

“I’m going to have to surprise you, sometime before your next one.” Jude promises, looking up at him. “You deserve a birthday.”

“I’d like that.” Sebastian concedes.

“I’ll even make you a cake.” Jude smirks into the warm softness of Sebastian’s stomach.

Chapter Five

"In all my years of pointless envy, I had never paused to consider that living the life of another would stifle me. Yet I found that with the wealth and status I had gained, a new kind of shackle grasped my ankle, and neither the truth nor my own knowledge of deception could shake it off. I was bound to her, and she to me.”

"Sebastian?"

He looked down at the boy, lying in his lap and looking up at him. The hand that isn't holding the book in front of him is enmeshed in Jude's hair, ruffling it and smoothing it flat and tidy again. They’re both lying on the green cord couch, Sebastian’s back propped up on a green and blue patchwork cushion.

"Yes?" he folds the pages of Framed with Light closed one handed and lays the book to one side.

"Can I ask you something, promise you won't just say no."

Sebastian looks down at his nervous face.

"Of course Jude."

"Would it be alright if I wanted...if I wanted to spend the night?"

Sebastian's hands freeze and Jude feels his legs stiffen, thighs no longer slightly parted beneath his head but pressed together in sudden unease.

"Jude..." He moves out from under Jude and goes to sit awkwardly on the chair facing the couch. Jude sits up. "You know we can't, that..."

"I don't mean for sex." Jude reaches towards his hand, closing his warm fingers around Sebastian's own. "I just want to stay with you...please?"

"We can't." Sebastian grips his hand with his own and tries to press all the feeling he can into that one, tiny, gesture. "We're not...I'm not, strong enough, Jude, I'm sorry."

Jude frowns, inching off of the couch to kneel in front of the older man, hand resting on his knee, the other still in Sebastian's grasp. Sebastian watches him with unease, breath catching in him as he looks down at the boy, on his knees before him.

"You told me I was stronger than I thought." Jude presses his lips to Sebastian's hand, and the priest is ashamed, truly ashamed of what such an innocent gesture makes of him. "I trust you. I love you, and every night I still go home, and you're here alone." Sebastian's fingers twitch in his. "Let me stay with you."

"Jude..."

"Trust me." He asks simply. And Sebastian cannot turn from such earnestness.

"I'd..." Sebastian smiles slightly. "I'd love for you to stay."

They return to their previous position, only now in the reverse. Jude picks up the reading where Sebastian left off, the priest's head pillowed in his lap.

That's how, a few nights later, Jude ends up walking towards the church, bag slung over his shoulder containing new pyjamas and his toothbrush, his parents appeased with the knowledge that he and Ben, are camping out.

Sebastian changes the sheets on his bed, laying them clean and flat. He fingers the hem of his T-shirt nervously, Jude has asked for this and he has acquiesced, because for the first time in his life he has the chance to lie beside someone, to sleep in another's arms and not wake alone. That alone is worth the risk, the temptation, of allowing the boy into his bed.

That evening, Jude helps him to cook baked chicken and potatoes, his bag lying in the hallway, for the moment forgotten. Jude changes the tapes in the stereo, long since moved to the kitchen, playing his music softly as they crush herbs and peel vegetables.

Sebastian eats cross legged on the bed upstairs, Jude propped against the headboard beside him. Once dinner is concluded they return their plates to the kitchen and return upstairs. The film tonight is 'The Last Crusade' and they watch it to the final credit sequence, Jude tucked into Sebastian's side, fingers stroking his wrist absently.

This is usually where they would go to make tea, curling up to read the last of Framed with Light and then Jude would catch Sebastian looking at the clock on the wall, and he'd leave to jog home and sleep in his own neglected mess of a room.

Instead Jude presses a quick kiss to Sebastian's temple, before getting off the bed and turning the television off.

"How about we read up here tonight?" he says quietly.

Sebastian looks at him for a long moment, indecision running riotously across his features, before he nods.

"I'll get the book, and bring some tea up..." Jude swallows nervously, stomach tightening with anxiety and expectation. "You want to...get changed?"

Sebastian nods again and once Jude has gone, loping down the stairs to retrieve the paperback and two mugs of tea, he finds a pair of blue striped cotton pants and an old grey T-shirt with long sleeves, changing quickly and putting his clothes in order on the chair in the corner of the room. In the thin cotton he feels vulnerable, obvious. He considers getting under the sheets but that seems presumptuous, and he wonders at the effect of the boy on him, that he can consider himself presumptuous in his own house.

When Jude returns, Sebastian is still sitting awkwardly on the edge of his bed. The boy glances at him, sets the cups down on the side table and drops the book onto the bed before climbing on to the mattress himself and tugging Sebastian towards the middle of the bed.

"Relax; it's going to be fine." He lays Sebastian back against the stacked pillows and then hops off the bed, back to his discarded bag. "I'll change in the bathroom."

He returns in dark blue pyjamas, the long sleeve shirt of them buttoned down the front and making him look younger than he already is. He slides onto the mattress beside the priest and lies down, head resting just slightly on the older man’s chest. Sebastian finds the edge of the book with his fingers, pulling it into his lap and opening it to the correct page.

"The moon was high behind the weft of clouds, and all the world slept but me and my shadow. I was left alone and wounded with what I had done. No solace found me in those small hours, nor did the coming of the uneasy dawn allow me to rest my aching mind.”

Jude listens to the words turned out softly in the priest's voice, and Sebastian loses himself to the story of Lila the murderess and the rhythm of his own reading. There is very little of the book left to read and Sebastian makes short work of it, being a natural orator and stumbling very little over the narrative. Jude turns more into his side, an arm slung over Sebastian’s hips and his eyes closed. The boy sighs a long breath as Sebastian rounds off the last sentences.

Sebastian’s eyes turn to the clock by his bedside, the time is almost midnight, and Jude has stayed the latest he has ever permitted himself. As if reading his mind the boy shifts slightly, eyes opening and finding his in the near dark that has formed outside of the circle of the reading lamp.

"We should sleep." Jude says, and Sebastian feels the weight of this moment cement around them. He has already allowed so much, both to himself and to Jude. This is one more slip, and he is so afraid that he will not keep himself in check.

Still, when the boy slips away from him and turns over the sheets, taking the side of the bed beside Sebastian’s and leans up on one elbow to draw the priest under the covers as well, Sebastian goes.

"Goodnight Jude." The older man lies on his side, close enough to feel the warmth that bleeds from Jude into the bed. Close enough that Jude can feel the weight of Seb only inches from him.

"Night Sebastian."

Yet still they do not sleep, until Jude's arm finds his waist again, and Sebastian extends his own to hold Jude's head in the hollow his elbow.

"Thank you, for this." Jude mutters, mouth warm against the cotton covered skin of Seb’s arm.

"It's not a sacrifice." His voice is slightly roughened by the extended reading, his eyes already heavy with sleep. "I enjoy having you here." The arm around his waist pulls slightly tighter, and Sebastian shifts just a little further towards the boy, bodies still unconnected save for the two points of contact that they are allowed. "I love you, you know that." He feels the boy burrow further into the pillow, seeking more of the warm limb to press his face against.

"I love you too, Seb."

For both of them the night is almost dreamless. Sebastian experiences only a snatch of subconscious frivolity, in which he barges out of the screen door of his parents house, the one that squeaked after rain and that is now soundless and smooth. He bolts down the steps and across the lawn that he used to mow for fifty cents every other weekend. He’s heading for Benjamin’s house, but Jude lives there now. The screen door of the other house is already open, the living room beyond flooded with sunlight.

When Sebastian wakes, he wakes in stages. First he becomes aware of the soft cotton against his skin, the cocoon of warmth it has formed. Then of the soft light coming through the blue curtains, and finally the hot weight of Jude, lying on his back beside him. He's managed to curl himself up at the boy’s side, head resting on Jude’s chest, Jude's arm is around the priest’s back. Their legs are tangled together under the covers, and yet, he's mercifully (he almost thinks 'miraculously') not aroused, serene and calm at Jude’s side.

Jude wakes with the suddenness of youth, one moment asleep, the next fully awake and aware. His arm twitches against the priest and the boy turns his face into Sebastian’s soft dark hair, sleep tousled and sticking up at odd angles.

"Morning." Jude wraps his arms and legs around Sebastian's body before the priest can roll out of his space. "Told you we'd be fine."

Sebastian hums softly and breathes in the scent of Jude's skin, feeling the boy’s collar bone pressing into his cheek. He feels amazingly calm for the moment, though he has the feeling it won't last. But right now there is no trace of lust in him, just the sense that he is marvelling in a respite, in warmth and the aftermath of sleep.

"I believed you." He mutters, hand stroking the fabric covered expanse of Jude's stomach.

"I should get home." Jude stretches slightly, "I might have time to make you breakfast before I go."

Neither of them moves.

"Can we do this again?" Sebastian asks tentatively. "Just this...maybe in a few weeks..."

"Yes." Jude squeezes him slightly. "I thought you might not want to."

Sebastian moves just enough to kiss his jaw, morning stubble scratching Jude's relatively smooth skin.

"I'd never regret anything you gave me, as long as it didn't hurt us...hurt you." Sebastian feels his guilt, his unease resurfacing.

"You're not so dangerous." Jude kisses him, just touching the side of his mouth. With a sigh he untangles them and slides out of bed. "Pancakes then?"

Dressed once more in his jeans and a T-shirt, watching Jude, similarly attired, as he flips pancakes and ladles batter in his small kitchen, Sebastian feels the closeness of that earlier, bed bound moment being buried underneath normality and distance. But it isn't gone, it's a new connection that refuses to dissipate, and he wonders to what extent they are now tied together, whether he could give up this closeness, this relationship. The knowledge that to do so would hurt him deeply, is not surprising, but it does disturb him to know that somehow they have solidified, becoming a single unit during the time that they have spent together.

They eat the pancakes sitting at the kitchen island and then it is time for Jude to leave. He kisses Sebastian as they stand in the shadowy hallway, a quick press of lips to the side of his face.

"I'll see you soon." He picks up his bag.

"At mass, actually." Sebastian points out.

Sebastian still hasn't gotten used to seeing Jude amongst others, feeling that a single look, a single slip of the tongue over his reading, will spell disaster for them both. Mass is now something of a trial, knowing that Jude is watching him and listening to him from the crowd.

Thankfully his attraction, now grounded in experience, is a little easier to bear. Feeling that he has some grasp on Jude, that he knows him and that his feelings are returned, somehow makes him less desperate to simply feel him, to be with him.

Still, the feel of the boy's eyes on him is as electric as it has always been, and Sebastian finds himself aching under it, grateful for the protection of the lectern that distances him for the congregation and cursing the lengthiness of the ceremony.

Jude himself sits in the pew beside his Mother and Father, his brother standing with the other members of the choir. He looks up at Sebastian and feels the priest’s eyes dart to him on more than one occasion. Despite the domestic nature of their time together, Jude cannot suppress his knowledge of sex, or his desire for it. Jude’s desire burns out of sight, but brightly. When Sebastian looks at him again Jude's in the process of wetting his lips, tongue sweeping over them automatically, but seeing the priest's eyes widen, imperceptibly to all but him, he runs his tongue over his lip again, resting his teeth on its damp fullness when he's done.

Sebastian swallows and glances down at the book in front of him.

Jude feels his arousal slowly growing.

In confession, because he must still attend confession, Jude listens as Sebastian sighs brokenly and turns his face towards the grille.

"That was an unfair thing, to do." Sebastian swallows, his dry throat working. "A dangerous thing to do."

"No one saw me." Jude curls up in his seat at the displeasure in the priest's voice.

"It is not about them...it is about me and you and..." he sighs. "How do you think it makes me feel, to see you do things like that?" he almost whispers, voice husked with desire and frustration.

Jude's breath comes in audible rushes, and he can feel his heart thumping under his ribs.

"I didn't mean to." He's telling the truth, he doesn't really understand why he did it. "I'm not trying to tempt you, I promise."

"You don't have to try." The priest's words are filled with self loathing. He thinks of Jude in his Sunday best, dark green shirt and black pants, a body he’d like to keep forever wrapped in his bed."I'm already...I already find you far too arousing...and perhaps..."

"No." Jude would shout it if he did not know that other people were still in the church. "No...you can't say we have to stop. I need you." He means it in its rawest sense, it feels like he'll go mad without seeing the priest alone. He presses his hand to the grille, moving closer, so that Sebastian can see the gold of his crucifix, bright in the dim light of the confessional.

Sebastian sits in pained silence.

"Let me prove it." Jude says suddenly. "You're not a danger to me, or my soul."

Sebastian feels a sudden spike of extreme unease.

"You slept next to me, Sebastian...and you were fine, we're fine."

"Jude you realise what this means to me? What our own self control means for us? If we fail in this..." Sebastian has seen images of Hell, and none of them, not one, has captured the perdition of his teachings. He will not be the man to consign Jude to such a place.

"You're the most controlled person I know...and I can control myself. I can." He insists as if Sebastian had doubted him verbally.

"I'll think on it...you should be going." Sebastian moves back from the grille, hearing Jude pause before leaving.

"I love you Seb." The boy utters with perfect conviction.

"I love you too...I wish this was easier." Sebastian hears the boy depart, and waits for the next penitent to enter.

He wishes there was to be an end to the trials, that at some point he could have enough of Jude. He doubted he would reach a point where he no longer wanted more than he was strictly allowed to want.

He's starting to realise there will never come a point where he can rest, knowing he's had his fill of the boy. There is no intimacy that he can allow which will sate the thing that draws them together.

He takes confession as usual and prays inwardly for salvation.

Despite his rash vow, Jude keeps to their scheduled meetings and activities, coming by in the evenings and helping Sebastian to prepare his meals. They work their way through a box set of ‘E.R.’ and Sebastian is quite sure it's the worst thing he's ever been subjected to, and tells Jude this unflinchingly.

"You have no taste." Jude flicks a potato chip at him and proceeds to defend the show to the hilt. As bad as the drama is, Sebastian enjoys the way Jude knows all the plot lines and characters, and yet vehemently protests being called a 'fan' or even any suggestion that he might like the show for anything other than the big scale plane crashes and ship wrecks that seem to happen on a weekly basis.

Nothing is said of Jude's promise to prove that neither of them is going to succumb any time soon. Sebastian's glad of that; he doesn't think he could take the strain of it.

Though Jude has yet to sleep over again they have adjusted their routine to involve lying in bed, transferring their readings upstairs or else just talking, clothed and comfortable beneath the blankets. Tonight Jude is showing him a sheaf of glossy higher education guides.

“What do you think of this one?” Jude holds up a college brochure.

“It has an excellent literature programme.” The priest says approvingly. “You’re still set on studying that I presume?”

“Of course, even if they make me read dumb ass stuff like Eliot and Austen – totally worth it for a chance to study Bronte properly.” The boy looks embarrassed by his own enthusiasm. “Anyway...I need a good background in literature if I’m going to teach it later...or you, know, I could take up writing, maybe review stuff...” he shrugs and looks through the glossy pages again.

There is so much Sebastian wants to know of Jude's life plans. It's a life just barely beginning and the boy has so many dreams for it, so many opportunities just waiting to be presented, and Sebastian can't help but think that maybe, by the time Jude reaches his own age, he will have settled in with a wife and be having children.

It has become increasingly obvious to the older man that though their present is marginally comfortable, they can have no future. Sebastian will never be able to live with a younger man, even when Jude comes of age, it would always be seen as inappropriate. He can never be anything to Jude in public, save for his priest.

And soon, not even that.

“When you go, to college...” Sebastian begins, “It might be best for this to end.”

“No.” Jude answers immediately, hands reaching for Sebastian’s own. “No, I’ll always want you, college isn’t going to change that.”

“What about in five years time?” The priest asks, lying next to Jude fully clothed in his bed and looking at Jude sprawled beside him under the blue covers. “In ten? Won’t you want to have a family, a proper family...and what about all the changes we’ll have to cope with soon? College is only one...”

"Don't think like that." Jude tells him, "We'll work it out when it happens."

"You're going to going away in under a year." Sebastian points out. "and I'll still be here."

"And I can write, and visit and..." Jude is frustrated by this obstacle. "And we will cope with it."

"What about children? Even the possibility of waking up beside someone in the morning, sharing a home..." Sebastian sighs "Jude, we can't even share a pet, and we'll never share a space because it would be frowned upon...and even if it wasn't." His desperation laces his tone. "Can you imagine sharing a bedroom with someone...and still changing in separate rooms? Wearing night clothes even in the height of summer because..." he shakes his head bitterly. "Because I cannot be allowed to see you naked?" He almost whispers it, shame evident in every aspect of his posture.

Jude slides across the bed and touches his face.

"Why not?"

Sebastian's eyes fly to his in an instant.

"I've seen you, remember?" Jude refuses to relinquish his hold on the other man's gaze. "I pulled you out of that tub and it never even occurred to me to touch you like that. And you are a lot better at this than me."

"If you were unconscious and hurt then yes, of course I'd be preoccupied." Sebastian mutters with exasperation. "But lying with you, naked, is not...it pushes us too far and I would be concerned for you. For both of us."

Jude sits very still for a moment, blankets pooled in his lap, then he reaches for the hem of his tattered band t-shirt, pulling it over his head and fisting the fabric nervously, holding it in one hand.

If Sebastian found him tempting, found the sight of the boy unequivocally beautiful when clothed, it is nothing compared to the bare skin now in front of him. Jude's chest is lightly tanned from the previous summer, fading but still present, each part of him is toned and still slightly rounded with youth, the skin soft and even. He drinks in the sight of him guiltily even as Jude's uncertain fingers reach for the waist of his jeans, the only item of clothing Jude is still wearing.

"Jude. Don't." Sebastian says, but he can't muster the strength to sound foreboding, because Jude is arresting in this condition, half naked and so, so close. Sebastian cannot find a way to deny the impulse to uncover him further.

So when Jude slides his thick denim jeans and cotton underwear down over his thighs and knees, leaning up to work them down his calves and off over his bare feet; Sebastian cannot tell him to stop. The words die in his throat.

Jude. Naked...is a sight that would drive him mad if he weren't already there, evidenced by his willingness to choose this, to allow this to happen.

He isn’t the same even tone, brown paling to white on the parts of him that are shielded from the sun always. The hair on his chest, arms and legs is almost invisible, gleaming burnt brown as his limbs move with his pulse. That leading down his belly and lining his groin is darker, though, he notices abstractly, not as dark as his own, the only other such body he has ever seen this close.

Jude’s ankles and wrists are oddly delicate, his shoulders broad, pectorals defined and his lips parted slightly as his eyes fix on Sebastian's, watching as he is watched. Sebastian’s eyes are drawn back to Jude's groin, taking in the sight as it begins to swell, slowly, reddening under a gaze Jude has so often seen focussed on the bowed heads of celebrants or the words of a psalm, and has wanted on him for so long. It's almost unbearable in its intensity.

Jude leans forwards and wraps his hands in the fabric of the priest's T-shirt, pulling it slowly upwards over the other man's head. Sebastian raises his arms to let the fabric pass over him, swallowing hard now that he is bared to the boys gaze, feeling it rake over him like a touch. Jude isn't actually touching him, save for the removal of his shirt they have yet to touch each other, and yet Jude continues to harden, and Sebastian feels an answering pool of warmth in his abdomen.

Sebastian leans back against the pillows, partly to gain some distance, and partly to do something, anything, that isn't crushing his own bared flesh to Jude's.

"Sebastian...I..." and he sees unease flicker in the boys expression, nervousness and awkwardness stiffening his posture as he draws his knees up to his chest, sheltering the arousal that suddenly embarrasses him."I'm sorry...if you want...I can...I can go."

This is how he ends up reaching for the boy, turning him and moulding his body to Jude’s naked back so that he can hold his curled up form against his own. Sebastian threads his fingers into the boys hair, his other arm lying over Jude’s stomach.

"I would never make you leave." He murmurs, feeling the tension and upset radiating from Jude's naked body, vulnerable and flushed, exposed to him so freely it makes him ache. He lifts a sheet over Jude, watching it settle over him, giving the boy some measure of protection.

Sebastian moves reluctantly away. Jude turns to track his progress, and goes still when he sees Sebastian slowly dragging the waistband of his own pyjamas down over his hips. When the boy makes no sound or sign to show he is disturbed, Sebastian continues with the action, laying himself naked before Jude's eyes. He shall be the one to complete this exercise in trust, in restraint. As in all other things it is up to him, as the elder, to retain composure.

But he’s shaking as he undresses.

Jude will never be able to accurately and eloquently describe what he feels at this precise moment. Because it is one thing for Sebastian to look on Jude’s naked body and find it beautiful, but another for a boy to look on the body of an older man and feel...want, coursing deeply and yet so near the surface. He sees the tapered hipbones, trails and shadows of dark hair, the steady beat of a pulse in the pale skin of Seb’s throat, the slightly hardened flesh between his legs, purpling at the tip, and the long, elegant legs so often concealed beneath robes or jeans. He sees all of him, and he wants, more than he can bear, and more than he has hope of resisting.

The sheet is swept aside before he has conscious thought, and he falls on Sebastian in a tangle of hot skin, the alternate smooth-rough play of hairs standing on end and the slight dampness of sweat on them both an odd delight. Sebastian's body jerks at his first touch, as their chests seal together, legs tangled, brown, white, brown, white as Jude shifts on top of him. Yet Sebastian moans when the boy's mouth finds his, pressing blindly into the first real kiss they've shared since Jude pleaded with him for some measure of intimacy.

He had though he could control himself, and now there is this, everything he could want. He cannot bring himself to turn from it.

Jude's hands can't stop touching Sebastian's skin, running over him, rubbing, squeezing and soothing alternately as the other man touches him with awe stricken greed. Gasping for breath every time their mouths part they snatch air before pressing together again, and Sebastian thinks he might never get the taste of Jude out of his mouth, so deeply it's gone.

It's too much and not enough, and too soon Sebastian feels Jude resting between his legs, shifting with frustration, tiny sounds of discontent and desire caught in his throat. He wraps his legs around Jude and wants with more power than he thought he possessed, he wants this.

"Can we...?" Jude pants, tawny skin flushed and glazed in sweat, mouth swollen and eyes half closed in hazy need. "Can I?"

Sebastian can only nod, kissing again in a rush of teeth and bitten lips, the taste of saliva shared between them, the raw taste of Jude's mouth. Jude’s body wriggles on top of Sebastian’s.

"I need to get something...something to..." Jude pants, Sebastian nods again, hands dragging down the boys back and circling his waist. Jude whimpers and bucks against him involuntarily, they're both coming apart and Sebastian feels a spike of fear that he is no longer in control of this, of himself.

Naked, Jude scrambles out of bed and pads swiftly across the floor, out onto the landing and towards the bathroom. Alone, Sebastian pulls the sheets around himself, frustrated and anxious, afraid and hard and lost as to where they're going.

At the same time, he knows exactly what is going to happen.

And that frightens him all the more.

Jude returns, slowly opening the door and standing, unsure, on the threshold, abottle of lotion in one hand, the hard line of his erection shadowed against his stomach. Sebastian feels himself twitch distinctly, a thickness to his throat as he nods, and raises an arm towards Jude as he approaches the bed. Sebastian wraps the arm around the boy and pulls him closer, kissing his forehead, his mouth, his throat. He's warm and close and perfectly smooth, even the hair trailing his stomach is soft, Sebastian clings to him and tries valiantly to fight his own nerves, his own fears.

There's no pause as they work out how this will go, how they will go. Sebastian lies down, his eyes travel over the boy's body, taught and smooth and beautiful. When Jude covers his shaking fingers in grease, Sebastian feels answering tremors in his spine. Their eyes meet and Jude parts him slowly, hearing Sebastian gasp over his own ragged breath.

"Sebastian..." Jude looks up into the blue eyes fixed on him. "Don't hate me." Are the only words Jude can put forth. He doesn't want Sebastian to despise him for wanting this, for bringing them both to this, knowing it would break them, that it could still break them – and wanting it all the same.

He can't stand to hear the answer, so he goes on, falling, failing.

"Oh" Sebastian makes the tiny sound as the curved pad of Jude's finger breaches him, then again, drawn out as it works its way inside. Jude whimpers, shifting so that his other hand can touch his weeping arousal. He can't look away from the ring of tight pink flesh that flirts with the length of his finger, flickering open just slightly around it, pulling and pushing alternately as the muscle clenches.

"Seb..." The boy's hand touches his penis again, stroking inexpertly as he opens him up, and Sebastian feels himself give to the pressure, opening up, preparing.

When he's considered this, in his more vulnerable moments, it was always with a view to the animal. The carnal, unnatural actions of one man debasing himself for another. On hands and knees, like a Godless creature, without reason, without morality, only with desire. And it frightened him, truly frightened him to his core, that he might be like that. That, given the right circumstances, the wrongness inside of him might break free, sweeping all else in its path and leaving him, begging on his knees, for someone, anyone else, or worse, forcing himself inside someone's willing body, using it for something so base it didn't deserve a name. In a righteous world it would not have a name at all, if all men were good and faithful, there would be no need for the term 'sodomy'.

It is not like that at all.

It hurts, there's pain as he expected there to be, even a moment where he's aware of what is taking place in all its anatomical horror, he can feel the boy's knuckle inside of him, pressing into him. The curved bluntness of the finger tip with a hard edge of nail. He can feel them, know how they are intruding on him, and feel a shudder of shame and disgust.

He did not expect to feel so good with Jude finally inside of him. So full and hot and reduced to only the simplest of wants, to have Jude so close to him, to feel so much of him. As Jude pushed inside he'd heard the boy moan, long and low, and now Jude mutters into his throat, head bowed and back shaking with tension.

"I didn't...oh, I didn't know it would feel like this..." He shifts until his forehead is pressed to Sebastian's, and the priest hears him speak, feeling warm breath on his face. "...Seb..." he trails into a low groan as he moves a little. "... I can't..." The boy lets out a sound that might almost be a sob, and begins to move in earnest.

Sebastian can remember every disgusting thing he has ever thought, ever uttered, about this practice. But for the life of him he cannot call the feeling of Jude's body fetching against his wrong. Neither can he term it ugly or base. Not when he feels his body begin to move with Jude's, when the only sounds he can produce are moans to match those of the young body atop his own, as he spreads wider and feels the deeper penetration draw more delicious sounds from Jude, as he himself whimpers and groans with each slide of him.

"Yes." Jude bucks into him and groans against his chest, then again, pained sounding "Ye-s" He moves jerkily and Sebastian can feel him twitch inside of him, rubbing, nudging at the place inside of him that feels like someone's reaching into him and rubbing along every nerve.

"Oh, Yes" Jude lurches again, hands clinging to him, one tangled in the priest's hair as he pulls their mouths together.

Sebastian makes a noise, because it cannot have ever been a word, not like this. Hand sliding between his own shuddering abdomen and the contorted muscle's of Jude's stomach, to stroke himself.

"Oh" Jude pants harshly and changes his angle, trying, impossibly to anchor himself deeper, even as Sebastian arches into the new pressure, the new sensation of his most private nerves being battered with velvet soft hardness.

"Yes..." Jude's pace picks up, losing its careful rhythm as he comes apart, knees digging sharply into the box spring and hips surging up as his empties himself. Sebastian comes over his trembling fingers, head falling back against the bed as Jude's body shudders and goes limp on top of him, sealing sweat between their shaking bodies.

Sebastian cups the back of Jude's head gently, feeling him pant against his chest as he lies supine, trying to get his breath back. His arm encircles Jude’s sweating back, holding him close as they both come down, shushing gently against his damp hair.

He could say that he would regret this come the morning, or that as soon as he regains control over his shuddering body he will move away from Jude, clothe himself and seek absolution, no matter how harsh the penance, he will do it.

But to be absolved, one must first regret.

Had he taken a random man, anonymously, in an alley, or in his own bed. Had he not loved and felt himself transcend the pleasure of the act itself, and feel closer to Jude than to any other person in creation. Had he not continued to feel so deeply for Jude beyond their copulation. Then he could have regretted it completely.

As it stands Sebastian does not now feel any lessening in his desire to be with Jude. Given the chance he would repeat this moment, he would lie with Jude as long as the world would allow it and love him until judgement day claimed them both.

Then they would both be damned.

If he ends it and ends it now, at least Jude might be saved.

Chapter Six

Despite his uneasy rejection of the impulse for absolution, Sebastian wakes only an hour after he falls asleep, bolting awake with the knowledge that Jude should have been home by now.

The bed is empty.

For a second the knowledge punches him in the stomach, and all he wants to do is curl up and close his eyes to the sight of the empty space beside him.

Then he hears Jude's voice, coming from the hallway.

"...Yeah, I know I should have called sooner, I'm sorry I just lost track of time..." He sighs. "I'll be back tomorrow before school, I promise...yeah, I'll tell Benjamin you're not happy...Night Mom." He hears the snap of a cell phone closing and then Jude appears in the doorway, naked and looking distinctly nervous. He stops short when he sees that Sebastian is awake.

"My Mom would have wondered where I was..." he gestures sheepishly with the phone."Figured I'd tell her I was with Benjamin...I can get him to cover for me tomorrow...tell him I was off with some girl." He breathes out shakily. "Are we ok?"

Sebastian leans up on his elbow.

"Come back to bed." He says quietly. And the boy does, slowly climbing up onto the bed and getting underneath the blankets, pressing his cooling limbs hesitantly against Sebastian's naked body. His head rests neatly under his jaw and he sighs into Sebastian's skin brokenly.

"I'm so sorry Seb...I didn't mean to." Sebastian feels a drop of warm liquid strike his skin and realises that Jude is crying.

The realisation is like a knife in his throat.

He moves so that he can see the boy's face, stricken and run across with tears. Stroking a hand hesitantly through his hair he realises with awful suddenness that Jude is eighteen, eighteen and, like himself, had been a virgin until tonight.

"Jude...I..." he holds the boys shaking body and tries to fight the nausea that fills him when he thinks what people would say if they knew what he'd done.

Ugly things. Terrible things, all of which would be true.

He has stolen the innocence from a boy who is barely of age.

"Jude I'm so sorry I hurt you." He feels his heart seize up at the words. "I'm...I can't fix this...I'm so sorry...please..."

Jude shakes his head violently.

"You didn't...how can you think that?" He whines softly, pressing if anything, closer to Sebastian's body and holding him tightly. "I'm the one who...I took my clothes off for you." He murmurs, self disgust evident in his words. "I'm the one who kissed you...I was..." he blushes furiously and closes his eyes. "I was inside of you...that was all me and now..." he buries his face in the side of Sebastian's neck, hating himself but unwilling to give up the comfort of the priest's touch. "Now I've screwed it all up and I've lost you and...and we've sinned...you sinned because of me."

"I said that I couldn't regret anything you gave me." Sebastian murmurs after a long while, stroking the flesh of Jude's upper arm. "If I didn't hurt you...I don't think I can be sorry." He closes his eyes. "That's a terrible thing for me to say...but I can’t regret this.”

"Don't say that." Jude sits up and stares down at him. "You can't just give up on...everything! You...you have to be absolved or..." he looks utterly broken. "You'll be damned for this, won't you? We both will."

"We..." Sebastian cups his face, his other hand stroking the boy's hip and marvelling that now that the worst has happened he no longer has to be afraid that it will. "We will most likely be judged, both by God and by man, for what we have done here. But there is still hope for you.” Sebastian sighs. “I can't stay in service with this hanging over me. It wouldn't be right." He sighs as Jude goes suddenly still. "I will have to leave my station, and try to...try to make amends with God for what I've done.

"You're going to leave me?" Jude's voice is small and hurt.

"I can't stay." And Sebastian hears his voice crack, despair washing into it even as he tries to remain calm. He has forgotten what it's like to be one man alone, without the weight of the church around him, and now he's considering a life without it he is lost, small and defenceless. His eyes blur and he feels his chest heave once, a sob just barely contained. "I can't stay and...Jude I can't be near you and not have this again, and every time...Every time. It would be a sin, just another sin on both of us." He buries his face in the teen's hair. "I love you too much to let that happen."

"I fucked it up." Jude shakes with misery and self loathing. "You were...you were perfect to me Seb and I...I fucked everything up."

"We're human." Sebastian strokes his back. "We're human and it's human to want this...but it can't happen again."

They lie for a while in silence, Sebastian trying not to crack under the weight of the misery he contains, Jude trying not to make this harder by trying to argue Sebastian into staying. He knows it's a sin, he knows and he also realises that Sebastian is right to move on, to leave temptation behind. But that doesn't mean he has to like it.

He isn't even aware that he's reacting to the warm body underneath him until Sebastian shifts uneasily, like a spooked animal, and Jude feels his own erection drag across the priest's hip. He's a teenager and Sebastian isn't, otherwise the older man has no doubt that he would be reacting in the same way to a warm, naked body, but Jude lurches away from him and curls up on the other side of the bed with his head buried in the pillows.

"Jude..." Sebastian lays a hand on his shoulder and Jude shrugs it off.

"Don't, ok? Just...don't touch me." His voice is strained and Sebastian can hear him breathing, heavy and rough. "Why can't I just..." he hears a sound like a strangled sob, "You tell me you're leaving and I...I can't even lie here without..." he shifts uncomfortably, "I'm...sick, it's just...sick."

Sebastian returns his hand to Jude's shoulder and this time Jude is too miserable to shove him off.

"You're not." He says quietly. "It's just..." he flushes despite himself.”It's beyond your control...it doesn't mean you're not sorry and it doesn't mean you're going to..." he can't finish the sentence, he can't fight the still fresh memory of Jude inside of him, telling him how he feels and groaning 'Yes' into his throat like he's dying of it.

"I still remember what you feel like, Seb." Jude whispers, layers of desire and disgust warring in his voice. "I'm losing you and all I can think is I'm never going to feel that again." He swallows thickly. "It should be more than that...I should be thinking about all the times I've seen you and all the things we've done...not the one time I couldn't...I couldn't stop." And it sounds more like an admission of guilt than the end of a rant.

Sebastian curls close to Jude’s back, not touching, save for his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"I still love you."

Jude shakes his head, pressing it into the pillow to block out the words.

"I mean it." Sebastian insists, quietly. "I've always meant it...and I'm never going to forget you, let alone hate you...so please don't hurt yourself over what I think of you." He squeezes his shoulder. "Because I'm never going to love anyone, as much as I love you."

Jude says nothing, just takes his hand from his shoulder and holds it, curled tightly in his own, pressing into the vulnerable softness of his stomach.

When it comes the reply is almost too quiet to hear.

"I love you, Sebastian." Jude murmurs. "Can I see you again? Before you go?"

"Of course." Sebastian's smile wavers even as it's born. "I'd like that."

***

Even with his surety, with the strength of his conviction, Sebastian barely makes it through the week.

There are things to sort out with his superiors, phone calls and meetings to suffer through as he makes his decision to leave the priesthood known. Every one of them tells him that they are surprised, aggrieved by his decision, probing lightly as to the cause of such upheaval.

He tells them nothing, brushes off their praise more out of shame than modesty, and orders a pack of cardboard boxes to contain his possessions when he moves from his home.

In between his attempts at packing, which usually end with him wandering from room to room looking at his possessions and wondering where he's moving them to; he finds himself increasingly drawn to the altar. He kneels in his yard work jeans and T-shirt, closes his eyes and prays for help, for guidance and for some measure of forgiveness.

He can't really tell if he's receiving any of the things he begs for.

He boxes his books in two categories, things he has read for Jude and things he hasn't. The books he has read to Jude will stay in their sealed box indefinitely; it's too hard to look at them, worse to consider throwing them out entirely.

The TV and VCR go into the church's jumble sale store, as does the stereo system he'd taken from there when he moved in. He never used either much before Jude, and he doesn't want them around now. The few tapes Jude made him go into the box of books, to be avoided but not lost entirely.

He looks through the apartment listings for Auburn, a city far enough over as to feel comfortably distant, and finds a modest single bedroom place over a drug store. He buys more jeans and T-shirts now that he will be spending more time in his own casual clothing. He even applies for a job at the local library there.

In short he does everything he can to paper over the fact that he's soon to lose the only man he will ever love.

Jude, for his part, stays away as he promised to on the last morning they spoke. He knows Sebastian won't leave for good without saying goodbye, and with only that small comfort he sets about his life sullenly and without much interest. He's lost his virginity, his friend, and his...well, Sebastian was never a lover in the true sense of the word, neither a boyfriend, nor a partner. He was a confidant, a good man and a perfect person with which to spend his evenings, hell, even the rest of his life with.

Now Sebastian was leaving. How on earth could Jude make his peace with that? How could he explain it to the woebegone Aaron, upset that his older brother no longer wants to play him at console games or take him over to the pool for swim practice? He hates making Aaron feel that way, but he can't play at being a kid anymore. He's been through too much to believe that his parents can protect him from everything, or that a game of Mario can distract him from all his problems.

He avoids his parents for other reasons, scared that they might guess what it is that troubles him. He can do nothing to erase the pain he's caused Sebastian, having cost him his home and his work and his calling, but he can let him leave town without dogs on his heels and a mob at his door.

There's school work he's meant to be doing, but he isn't really in the mood to focus. Then there's Ben and Prue, who want to know what the fuck's gotten into him lately and why he's so miserable all of a sudden. He avoids them too.

Both Sebastian and Jude keep themselves occupied whilst simultaneously shunning human contact. They strive for normalcy, for the paper thin facade that everything is fine, and that things between them, such as they were, are now over.

As Sebastian has come to realise, pretence can only get you so far.

Sebastian cannot forget Jude, and fears that if he allows himself to think of him for more than a second at a time, he will cancel all his best laid plans and fall back into bad habits; talking to the boy, seeing him, and wanting him. It cannot be allowed. And he won't allow it.

At night Jude still picture's Sebastian's face, presses into the bunched duvet and can almost feel the contours of him. He can hear his voice reading to him and so digs out his copy of Elijah’s Gate to read over, chasing the ghost voice from his head with fresh words, reading aloud at two am until Aaron comes into his room because he can hear him through the wall.

"Jude? What are you doing, it's like...nearly three in the morning." Aaron perches on the end of his bed in his sea world T-shirt and dark green shorts. "And what are you wearing?"

Jude realises he's wearing his pyjamas, the ones he had to buy at K-mart to take to Sebastian's because he wanted to look neat. On impulse he flicks back to the page he's holding the book open at.

"You want to listen?" He whispers. Aaron seems to weigh the strangeness of this against getting to spend time with Jude, he nods.

Jude starts to read again, answering Aaron's questions about the story so far as he goes. It's nice, having someone to share this with, and he hopes this memory will be written over his time with Sebastian, making it easier to suppress it later. He knows he's kidding himself though, the memories are too different, and spending some quality time with his little brother will never be the same as the way Sebastian could hold his attention, undivided, for hours as he spun out the stories in his novels.

Although he felt guilty for wanting the man's body so much, for longing after a chance to lie with him again, naked and open. His wish to miss and hunger for Sebastian’s company as much as he wanted his physicality is granted in the cruellest way. He misses Sebastian with a sharp loneliness which only grows when he is with others. He misses their odd conversations, the way Sebastian would shake his head at movies and frown at the characters as if they were real people, the way he read so intensely and fussed over the cooking that they did together.

Once Aaron is too tired to continue to pay attention, Jude sends him back to bed and curls up on his own beneath his single duvet. A whole dimension of his life is leaving him, and he is powerless to stop it. He's not even halfway to nineteen yet, and already he feels sick with the prospect of college, of dating, of getting a job and a house, all of it without Sebastian, all of it alone, or worse – with someone else. A girl he will date just to save face, to keep desire at bay.

That's how he's going to live.

He considers Sebastian's future. A one roomed apartment and a boring job, no one to come home to, or cook with, or read to. Nothing and no one to live for, because he doesn't have his church, or God, not anymore.

Jude squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to upset himself, tries desperately to hold it in, because if he cries over how he's ruined Sebastian's life, then he may never stop.

The boy goes to see Sebastian the day before he's due to move. It was the last thing they'd agreed on before they'd broken company, and as the day had approached both of them had felt the strain. There was a desire for it to be over in both of them, but a desperate want to cling to what they'd had. By the time they stood face to face again, now for the last time, both felt exhausted, strung out and tense from the waiting.

There was to be no last minute reprieve for them, how could there be when there was no one forcing this on them? It was their own choice. Fuelled by nothing but their own knowledge that they could not be together without the searchlight of suspicion and damnation on them. There is no one to fight and nothing to overcome in this, because it's the truth of their situation that means they have to part.

The hopelessness of it weighs heavily on Sebastian as he seals the last of his boxes.

Jude sits on a kitchen chair in the background, watching the last of the priest’s, the ex-priest's, things disappear beneath the flaps of cardboard and thick package tape.

"This is really happening, huh?"

Sebastian folds his arms protectively.

"Yes...Jude I want to say..."

"Don't." He says sharply.

"Jude..."

"It's not going to be enough." Jude lifts himself off of the wooden chair and moves slowly to stand in front of him. "It's never been enough and...and now I'm never going to see you again so...so don't leave me with something that means nothing."

"I can't...I can't give you anything else." Sebastian meets his eyes feeling heavy with frustration and exhaustion. One last struggle with himself and then he's free, free to feel nothing.

He knows what's coming, has always known that neither of them could leave the other well enough alone. It's why he's here, surrounded by his life in boxes, it's why he has to leave. But here is a chance to leave with one last memory, even if it is one teaming with regret.

Jude crushes their mouths together and sense memory drowns Sebastian in the recollection of Jude, fully naked and pressed to him, into him, aligned in all the most perfect ways. His mouth opens to the boy and Jude sighs, pressing further against him until Sebastian is backed into the wall, arms full of Jude, warm and inviting.

He surprises himself when he turns them, twisting to press Jude into the wall, his own body falling between the boy's legs as Jude sucks in air bluntly, barely letting their lips part as he rocks his hips against Sebastian's. Jude's hands rake at his back, finding naked skin beneath his shirt and Sebastian makes a small hungry sound at the back of his throat. This is all he's going to have, all he can let himself give, or take.

He moves just far enough away that they can calm themselves, resting together instead of rutting blindly, no long kissing but sharing breath as Jude's shoulder blades dig into the cool plaster of the wall.

He feels like a live wire inches from a copper filament, right up in Jude's space, lips so near his skin and moisture pooling in his mouth, heat spiking through him as their bodies brush at the height of their breathing.

Everything that's wrong with them, every danger they present to each other, exemplified in this one act. And yet it feels too good to ever let it go.

He lays his forehead on the curve of Jude's shoulder, breathes in the scent that inhabits his cotton t-shirt, and tries to cement this memory together so that he will never lose it. This is all he'll have until the day he dies, and he wants to savour it in all its sensual detail.

Jude's fingers wrap in his hair and the boy’s other arm holds Seb tightly around the waist. He is silent for a moment before uttering the words that Sebastian has been dreading, the final test to see if he ever had any righteousness in him.

"Don't go."

He shakes his head against the cradle of Jude's shoulder.

"Please don't go." His voice is hushed and strained. "Seb...I can't do this."

"We have to." He pulls back a little. "Please don't make this harder."

"We're never going to see each other again...how can you just stand there and tell me not to make this more difficult? It should be, it should be the hardest thing you ever do not just...not just a fucking inconvenience." He shoves away from Sebastian and rubs his hand over his hair, shaking with anger.

"Jude that's not what I meant." Sebastian watches Jude circle his piles of boxes uneasily.

"Really? Because that's what it sounds like." He crosses his arms. "You've found your way out of this and you can't wait to leave, fuck Seb it only took you a week to plan your exit route, and now you just want me to let you go?"

"Yes." Sebastian's voice is low and tight.

"And I can't tell you how much...how much I need you here? Why the hell not?" He squares up to him and glares, but there's so much hurt behind his eyes.

"Because you have no idea how much I want to stay." Sebastian sags under the weight of Jude's anger. "How much I wish this could be simple, but it's not." He grasps Jude's shoulders and curls his fingers around the soft skin and muscle beneath. "And if you ask me to stay? I just might...and that would be terrible for both of us."

"Why?" Jude's brow is deeply furrowed, his frame set, but the hopelessness in his voice is all youth.

"Because it would damage you...you're young and you shouldn't have to be..." he struggles for the word. "Exposed, to this, to me. It's a sin and it was so wrong of me to touch you and that...that there isn't a single soul who'd believe that I care for you...they'd think me a monster."

"It's not true." Jude shakes his head. "They wouldn't be right, they..." He shrugs Sebastian's hands off of his shoulders, backing him up against the wall again. "I'm the one that did it, remember? I'm the one that..." He kisses him and Sebastian can detect something breaking in his chest as he feels the boy's desperation wash into him.

Jude breaks away and rests their foreheads together.

"Don't leave me."

"I'm sorry." And he can't think of anything else to say, but it doesn't matter. Jude understands everything that those two words mean. He buries his face in Sebastian's shoulder, and the older man feels tears slowly soaking his shirt.

Later that day Sebastian packs his boxes into his car. He wraps his arms around Jude in the shadow of his hallway, shushing him gently and trying futilely to memorise the way he feels and sounds and smells. As if a memory could ever be as lovely, as perfect, as the real thing.

He drives away from his home, from Jude, with a trunk full of boxes, no real idea of what he's going to do with himself, and a shirt marked with tear tracks.

He keeps his eyes resolutely on the road, because he knows that if he catches sight of Jude is his rear-view mirror he'll turn back, and damn them both.

Chapter Seven

The union bar is crowded and Jude takes a minute to appreciate, beneath the shifting white and red spotlights, that he has finally made it – he’s a college student. He has the unflattering ID card and the negative bank balance to prove it.

Looking around at the people swarming over the blocky leather couches and dancing in any empty spaces they could find, he wonders what it would be like to feel as young as they seem. He’s only eighteen, but already he feels ancient, tired and wishing he’d stayed in his newly appointed dorm room rather than braving the crowds.

Someone nudges his shoulder.

“Hey...want a soda?” A sandy haired boy in an American River College T-shirt grins at him, offering a plastic cup. “I was with a friend, but she’s disappeared so...” he waves the cup, “Free soda.”

Jude takes the cup after it becomes clear that the guy isn’t going to give up. They find a seat by the main doors and sip their drinks, watching the crowd gyrate to, or shout over, the pounding music.

“I’m Matthew, by the way.” The sandy haired guy extends his hand and Jude shakes it.

“Jude.”

“Are you local?” Matthew persists, and Jude reluctantly begins to pay attention to the conversation.

“Yeah, kinda – Folsom.” He looks down into his cup. “Yourself?”

“Auburn.” Matthew shrugs.

Jude looks at him properly, blue t-shirt matching his grey-blue eyes and his blondish hair setting off his tanned skin. Behind Matthew the room is dark and hectic with splashes of light, the other students are still letting loose, and Jude can see at least six different couples making out in the shadows.

Two of the people furiously groping are both men.

Jude feels dizzy with all the noise and light, the realisation that no one is watching, no one gives a damn who’s doing what. It’s a free for all.

“So...I have a confession to make.” Matthew says, catching Jude’s once over and seeming pleased by the interest.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmmhmm...” he smiles slowly. “I didn’t come here with a friend.”

“Really?” Jude doesn’t so much allow himself to relax as force himself to not think about where this is going.

Matthew shakes his head, still smiling shyly.

“Neither did I.” Jude says, finishing his soda and setting the cup on the floor beside his seat. “You want to get out of here?”

Matthew nods.

They walk back towards the dorms, it’s a balmy evening and they’re both tired and away from home for the first time in their lives. Matthew invites Jude into his room to split a can of warm soda and watch TV re-runs illegally on his laptop. It gets so late that by the time they’ve raided his store of potato chips and watched more TV, Jude falls asleep on Matthew’s bed, head lolling on the other boy’s shin.

They wake an inhumanly brief amount of time later, but still being eighteen it has very little effect on Jude’s overall alertness. He sits bolt upright and tries to shake off the warm, comfortable feeling of not waking up alone. He feels guilty.

Up until last night Sebastian was the only man he’d slept beside.

Matthew blinks at him, then at the dead laptop and the detritus of their snacking.

“Guess that was my first late one.” He says, half cheerful, half shy. “Look...uh...you don’t have to but, I have stuff for pancakes in the kitchen...”

Jude really wants to leave. But then, what is he going to do if he does? Go back to his room and stay there until classes start?

Matthew makes good pancakes. They eat them in the kitchen alone because almost everyone else is either asleep or nursing their underage hangovers. Jude tries to focus on what Matthew is saying about the college football team. He almost succeeds in not thinking about another morning, months ago, when he had woken up with another man and made him pancakes.

Almost.

When Matthew suggests that they go to English Studies mixer together that night, Jude can’t think of an excuse, so he says yes.

It turns out that they have a lot in common. They like horror and disaster movies, they’re both taking English Studies and they used to play football in high school. They’re the same age. Matthew is a lapsed Catholic.

“Hey, do you feel like going to see a movie?” Matthew says, a fortnight after they met, as soon as Jude picks up the phone to him. There’s a new Bruce Willis picture out that weekend which he really wants to see. Why not?

They sit on the far left of the theatre and only two other people are in attendance, a guy and his bored looking girlfriend. Halfway through the opening fight scene Matthew slides down a little in his seat and rests his head on Jude’s shoulder. His blond hair is tickly and Jude fights the impulse to freeze up and ask him what the hell he’s doing.

“Is this ok?” Matthew asks.

“Watch the movie.” Jude whispers back, but he doesn’t shove him off, and after a while Matthew touches his hand and Jude doesn’t resist him weaving their fingers together.

This is how he finds out that they’ve been dating.

Jude figured that a lot of kids his age were doing worse, drinking, smoking cigarettes and pot as well as having sex in their closet sized dorms. He was being good, comparatively.

Their relationship starts as an easy kind of acquaintance but when it begins to slide into serious affection, Jude tries not to notice. He hates being alone and Matthew provides an easy distraction. It isn’t sinful, at least technically it isn’t. They haven’t even kissed, and Jude had no real desire to.

If Matthew had been straight they could have been friends. As it was, Jude has no idea how to separate platonic affection from the romantic role Matthew has placed him in. They go the movies once more, and to small restaurants for casual lunches; stretching their student grants as far as possible. Jude shows Matthew the park his parents took him to when they visited nearby during one summer, at least ten years ago.

It’s still beautiful.

They sit under a tree and watch the kids playing on the far side of the enormous expanse of grass. Matthew puts his hand on Jude’s knee, sunlight shining over the back of it.

All the sunlight and fresh cut grass, and the only thing Jude can smell is sandalwood incense.

It gets to Christmas and neither of them bother to go home for the day itself. They don’t go to church either. Matthew buys him a blue sweater and a couple of books that Jude’s been talking about looking up. Jude gives Matthew vouchers for amazon.com.

They first kiss five months into their relationship, if it can be called that.

It’s January and Jude is walking beside Matthew on the way to the nearest store to buy toothpaste of all things. What catches his eye is the church they pass, one he’s never noticed before. It’s not catholic, but the kitchen window of the priest’s home next door has the same curtains that belonged to Sebastian.

“Hey, look.” Matthew has sensed Jude’s sudden stop and paused along with him. He’s looking up about his head, where someone, over Christmas, had hung a sprig of plastic mistletoe from the top of the wrought iron gate frame. It’s cliché and stupid, but Matthew tries to kiss him anyway, and Jude reflexively turns slightly away, so that the other man’s lips only just touch his own, mostly landing on his cheek.

Matthew seems to put this down to his own clumsiness, gives him a goofy smile and sticks his hands back into his pockets.

Jude feels a little bad about it. The next time Matthew tries to kiss him (while they’re watching detective shows on his laptop in his bedroom – a shrine to Jack Bower) Jude lets him.

It’s been a long time since he’s been touched by someone who cares for him.

His family is very far away.

He doesn’t even know where Sebastian is.

“Is this ok?” Matthew asks him at least twice of an evening, whenever he moves his hand or touches a new part of him. Jude wants to tell him to shut up, just yell ‘Shut up Shut up Shut up!’ every time Matthew says it. He sounds nothing like Sebastian, his voice was the very essence of what was wrong with their situation; light and young and free.

No, it was not ok.

That doesn’t mean to say he was going to stop it. There were moments, just, moments, where he could relax in the feeling of someone else’s affection. When whatever he was, be it sad, angry, lost, broken or gay? That was ok. Matthew didn’t care. He loved him anyway.

Jude kind of wished he could reciprocate.

“Is it ok if I leave this here?” Matthew asks, holding up his pile of notebooks one evening as they sit in Jude’s room listening to the radio as they work on their essays.

“Why?” Jude asks, trying to keep the suspicious note out of his voice.

“Well...I have a class tomorrow and I can pick them up before then...saves me having to take it home.”

Jude shakes his head, not quite meeting Matthew’s eyes.

“Nah, I’ll just spill something on it, or bury it under my stuff. It’s safer with you.” Jude says lightly.

Matthew looks pointedly at the neat and tidy room. In all the time he’s been at college Jude has put up a single poster, a Mario mushroom picture gifted to him by Aaron, the rest of the room is almost completely bare, unlike Matthew’s own room, which has posters from 24 and CSI on all four walls.

Matthew chooses not to comment, that time.

They’ve been dating for almost a year, and Jude’s still firmly keeping himself closeted. He thinks there’s nothing else that he and Matt could possibly fight about. He only finds out how wrong he’s been when Matthew chooses to break his silence over the wall between them.

“How come you never wear the sweater I got you?” he asks, when Jude complains it’s a little chill now that evening has come on. Jude’s hunting in his bedroom cabinet with his back to Matthew, looking for some Tylenol. He gets headaches all the time now.

Jude shrugs noncommittally.

“Seriously, blue looks good on you.” Matthew persists.

“I think I left it at the laundry place.”

“Do you want me to go look for it with you?”

“I already did, I think it’s gone. Sorry.” Jude says firmly.

“Jude...”

“What?” he whips round to glare at Matthew, the throbbing in his temples making him feel like an angry bear.

Matthew is holding the blue sweater in his hand. It’s crumpled and a little dusty from being under the bed, and still wrapped around its little square of store display cardboard.

Matthew, unfolds the lump of soft blue fabric and holds it in his hands as a child might hold a cloth toy.

“Is there something wrong here? With us?” he asks softly.

Jude’s realises belatedly that he’s kind of been waiting for this. They’ve dated a year and not once has he given Matthew any personal information without trying to distract him first. They’ve never met each other’s parents, Jude’s out of necessity, Matthew’s out of Jude’s obstinacy. They haven’t had sex. Even on the occasions where they’ve groped, gone a little further than usual, Jude always leaves Matthew’s room and goes home. He never sleeps there.

They never do that kind of thing in Jude’s space. He’s made sure of it.

“Yeah.” Jude says simply. “Matthew...I don’t think I want to do this anymore.”

Matthew swallows noisily and looks both eerily calm and close to tears.

“Why?”

“Because...I’m in love with someone else...I’ve always been in love with someone else.” Jude fidgets where he stands, “And this is wrong, ok?” he says quietly, “The two of us...me being with another guy...is wrong.”

“You don’t love me.” Matthew’s brows squeeze together and defeat is evident in his voice. “You know, I kind of saw this coming.”

“I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to let it go on this long.” Jude closes his hand into a fist, tense and miserable. “But...I can’t see past how...wrong it is, to be with someone I can’t love...and someone I’m damning to Hell for no good reason.”

Matthew looks downright disturbed, blue eyes wide and confused. Jude only makes the connection now that what he liked most about Matthew’s cloudy blue eyes was their resemblance to Seb’s cornflower irises. He feels a fresh stab of regret and remembrance.

“Jude...I have no idea what you mean.” He says slowly. “You’re in love with someone else...and you settled, for me?”

Jude nods once.

“That much I get...I don’t have to like it – but I get it.” He looks more worried now. “But you think everything about this...” he waves a hand between them. “About me and this other...man?” Another nod. “That you were in love with...is wrong...like, it’s a sin?”

Matthew does something quite unexpected then, he laughs.

“Don’t laugh at me.” Jude practically growls, and Matthew’s disbelieving snort of humour dies as suddenly as it was born.

“You’re serious?” he says doubtfully.

“As damnation...which is what we’re both getting for this – you know that, you might be lapsed, but you know what Hell is, and how people get there.” He frowns. “Things like this, people like us. We were made for hell.”

"Jude...that's sick."

He flinched a little internally, reminded of when he himself had used those words. When he had lain, naked and sated and shamed on Sebastian’s bed; losing the only person he ever loved to his own failure.

"Seriously, how can you believe that crap in this day and age?" Matthew laid a hand on his shoulder. "It's not wrong to feel like this."

"According to what? You? The other guys like us, or all the people who seem to want to make everything acceptable and everyone equal?" Jude shakes his head. "Just because no one gets thrown in jail for it...just because people are starting to accept it, that doesn't make it right."

"Jude, get a grip, ok? This isn't healthy." Matthew actually looked worried. "I mean, I knew you had some issues but I figured it was just your parents and some Sunday school crap...but you seriously believe that you're going to Hell? That I'm going to Hell"?

"Because it's true." Jude continues stubbornly. "I wish it wasn't, but it is."

"Jude whoever drilled this into you? They were out of line and probably fucked up by their own parents. No God, especially not one who's supposed to love everyone, would make you this way and then torture you for it."

Jude's heard it before, tried to reason it before. But it doesn't help, and now, because whether he intended to or not, Matthew has insulted Sebastian, he's too pissed off to care much about Matt’s argument.

"You don't know what you're talking about." He says vehemently. "You think someone would tell me I'd be damned for this, if they didn't care about me?"

"I'm saying they'd have to be pretty twisted to put that on you, yeah."

"Maybe he was just trying to take care of me!" Jude finds himself yelling

Matthew stares at him in silence for a moment.

"He?" He asks, hesitantly.

"Drop it." Jude snatches up his bag and gets up, "This was a stupid idea ok? It's over."

"Jude, you're clearly not over...whatever it was that made you this way...whatever happened to you." Matthew says gently. "You don't have to tell me, but you should talk to someone, because this kind of stuff doesn't go away."

"What stuff?" Jude counters protectively.

Matthew looks at him sadly.

"Well...my Mom was abused as a kid and..."

"That's not what this is about." Jude grinds out. "I'm sorry that it happened to her, but nothing happened to me that I didn't want...I didn't do anything that I didn't want to do – and that's why it is all on me, ok? So leave it the fuck alone."

He slams out of the room before Matthew can reply, forgetting for a moment that it is his room, and that he has nowhere else to go.

Jude walks around the streets for two hours before he dares go back to his apartment. By the time he grows too tired to walk anymore Matthew is long gone, and his rooms are deserted.

The blue sweater is nowhere to be found.

Now he lies on his bed, trying not to think about Sebastian as he has done for a whole year, and failing miserably, just as he always has.

Chapter Eight

In the city of Auburn, not so far as to be unreachable, but far enough to seem an eternity away, Sebastian sits on velvet covered seat in the darkness.

The confessional booth is a familiar place to him, and though he is no stranger to doing things this way round, it still makes him uncomfortable. It reminds him of Jude, of the first time they spoke properly, and of all the conversations they later shared. But that is after all why he is here. He is in the confessional because he remembers, and confession is almost as good as oblivion.

"Forgive me Father for I have sinned, it has been over a month since my last confession." He intones the words as familiar as the days of the week.

"May the Lord bless you and keep you." The priest's voice comes through the grille. "Do you have anything to confess?"

"Yes."

"I take it things have not improved since the last we spoke?"

The penitent sighs.

"You could spare me the knowledge that you recognise me." Sebastian rubs his knuckles across his eyes.

"I'm sorry, please continue." The priest’s voice continues.

Sebastian sighs again.

"I wish I didn't' think of him." Sebastian leans heavily into the confessional seat, hands balled tight on the lap of his Sunday dress pants. "Every time...it's like it's just happened, like I'm still sinning."

Father Franklyn Adams sighs.

"My friend...you live a good life, you've been nothing but an asset to my congregation since you joined us, is it not time to let this go? To make your peace and turn it over to God?"

"I can't." Sebastian can feel Franklyn's sympathy and frustration. "I can't make myself believe that every aspect of our relationship was sinful...I can't separate what was wrong from what we did right."

"I can't tell you that it was, you know that." Franklyn says gently. "But you sinned in love, not out entirely of lust...perhaps that might make a different in the end."

"I don't believe it can." Sebastian sighs. "If I let it go, if I make my peace with it...I'll want him again, I'll forget why it was a mistake."

"Forgive me for saying it...but you already want him, Sebastian...that's why you're here." He stirs, robes shifting. "Perhaps a better place to discuss this would be in my office? Though...honestly I don't believe I can offer you anything you don't already know...but I could help, you could speak about it freely? Perhaps tell me the whole story."

Sebastian is silent.

"You've been confessing to me since you moved here...it’s been a year, and you have yet to tell me anything about your life before you came here, save for the fact that you were once a priest and you left the church because of an affair with a man."

"That's all there is." Sebastian squeezes his hands tighter. He has not told Father Adams (Father Franklyn as he likes to be known) that Jude was hardly of age, that their relationship spanned months and that it was in the end an extensive bond. He doesn't want the man to think less of him, to lose the one friend he has.

"I doubt that, no priest surrenders his work for a mere man...and there must be a reason you avoid speaking of him in detail."

"I can't..."

"I know, but think on it." Father Franklyn sighs. "I have other penitents to see today."

"My apologies."

"Nothing to apologise for, but I beg of you, let this go or you will suffer, needlessly."

"It's nothing more than I deserve."

Father Franklyn begins to reply but he hears Sebastian's footfalls travelling away from the booth. He prays silently for his friend, walking the no-man's-land of self loathing and fear.

It's been a year and still he lives in the shadow of his own sin.

Sebastian’s days now are fairly routine. He works five days a week in the library, goes home to his apartment and manages to cook something almost edible for his supper. On weekends he reads, lying on the couch in his living room, or else he goes to the flea market to buy new pans (because he burnt the bottoms out of his existing set) or new books, new audio books or new clothing. 'New' in all these cases being a term very much in the relative. He doesn't have much money, but then he has never had much in the way of finances or possessions.

That at least hasn't changed much.

He has also managed to keep up with charitable work at least, thanks to Father Adams and his recommendations. Sebastian works Friday nights at a soup kitchen, helping with can drives and sponsored events to raise money for both the church and its outreach programmes. He donates probably more than he can afford of his own money as well, and helps with whatever community project requires it, building the new annexe for the community centre or taking care of the public gardens.

It makes him feel better, doing these things, but ironically the praise he earns for these acts doesn't. In fact appreciation for his works makes him squirm with guilt because he isn't being entirely selfless in himself – so he avoids people as much as possible and so has, in the last year, garnered the reputation of a reclusive, well meaning, oddball; which suites him fine.

He's not lonely in as much as he regularly sees people at work, while he's volunteering and at church, which he still attends faithfully. Still, he finds himself at this precise moment, hand hovering between 'Masters' and 'Macintosh' unable to recall the last time he has actually touched another person, or has been touched.

Now, almost a year since his separation from Jude, Sebastian shelves books lazily, feeling unconnected to his arms in the heat of the vents overhead. It's warm in the library, warmer than his apartment, and he luxuriates in the heat guiltily; unwilling to move from the 'M' section and back to cooler climes.

He nudges the cart to one side with his hip, crouching to sort out a messy section of shelving, I.D. badge dangling over the tops of his thighs. Despite himself he quite likes this job, although it doesn't truly compare with the satisfaction of being a priest, of guiding souls towards the light of God...and yet where nothing is expected of him, he cannot help but relax and feel that he is succeeding completely. As a priest he was always to be a partial failure, but here he can be perfect.

Yet still, he is untouched, unloved.

Despite the pervasive heat around him he feel slightly chilled, realising that he could quite easily live out his days never being touched aside from the occasional brush of fingers when handing over money or being blessed by Father Franklyn.

Filling up his days does a lot to distract him from the fact that his personal life is empty, and will remain that way, but sometimes it does not do enough.

His situation is not made easier by one of his colleagues, a dark haired woman named Evelyn who today, as on most others, decides to take her break at the same time as he abandons the ‘M’ section.

“Seb!” She exclaims as soon as he enters the dismal break room. Standing in front of a faded Spiderman ‘reading week’ poster she waves a manicured hand at the decrepit coffee pot. “Do you want some?”

“Yes, thank you.” He says politely, eyes ranging over the spindly spider plants on the tiled windowsill above the sink.

Maybe he should get some for his apartment.

“Here you go.” Evelyn purrs, handing him his mug of coffee and brushing her fingers over his. “How’s the day treating you?”

“I am perhaps a little tired.” Sebastian admits. “Ready to go home, I think.”

She pouts a little in vague sympathy.

“All alone? Sweetie, you should get out and have some fun...get someone to take back home with you.” Her smile is large and white.

“Perhaps.” He says noncommittally. “Though after work...I value the quiet.”

Evelyn raises an eyebrow in a ‘have it your way, but I know I’m right’ expression.

“I should get back to my shelving; I think we’re closing soon.” He cuts his break short on purpose and escapes back to his work. He doesn’t mind the company of women, but Evelyn unnerves him with her forwardness, the way in which she often touches him unexpectedly, like a cat after affection.

Although, he does like actual cats rather a lot more.

That night when he gets off work he lets himself into his apartment, feeling Elijah, the fat ginger cat he acquired seemingly by accident a few weeks after he moved in, curling around his legs and mewling for food or attention.

Small needs simply met.

Was there anything more soothing?

The apartment itself is seemingly modelled on such a theme; gone are the sunny cream walls of his former home, the blocky blue curtains and green couch that had come with his position at the church. Here the walls are white, or rather, many shades of off-white. Apple-white, magnolia and lemon-white being the principle hues. His kitchen is a white set of units with green glass knobs on the doors. His carpet is wheat coloured, matching the couch and living room curtains. The bedroom is small, painted ice-white and comprising only his bed and a chest of drawers. His sheets are blue and the whole apartment is clean and organised.

He owns a lot of books and he keeps the radio on low all day and all night. As he lays out his silverware for that nights meal ‘Bad Moon Rising’ begins to play quietly in the corner.

Sebastian hums along.

***

Sebastian celebrates his birthday as he has done every year since he left home, with indifference.

He has no living family, both of his parents having died whilst he was in the seminary. He has no brothers or sisters. Of course, at one time he had his studies to attend to, and then later, in Folsom, he had his church. Now he has nothing but a string of volunteer positions and a cat to feed. There’s nothing holding his life together, no overarching calling to make it all worthwhile.

He has no family.

He has no faith.

Sebastian has only the memory of Jude, lying against his stomach, his mouth still sticky with canned frosting and the sounds of a spy movie in the background, as Jude promises that he will surprise Sebastian before his thirty-second birthday. To make up for missing the one he had the year they found each other. The only birthday he would ever share with Jude. Had he known that at the time he would have at least tried to see Jude on that day, as it was he had spent his one birthday with the boy he loved writing a sermon on patience and cleaning the vestry.

On this, his thirty-second birthday, Sebastian dresses in a white shirt and green sweater. He eats his breakfast at his kitchen table with Elijah purring at his feet. After his morning routine has been completed, and because he has no work scheduled at the library to distract him, he walks to church and sits for a while in one of the back pews.

“Sebastian?” He looks up to see Father Franklyn standing some distance away in the aisle. “I thought that was you, I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“No, I wasn’t praying.” Sebastian realises how bad that sounds. “I was...contemplating.”

Father Franklyn smiles and comes to sit beside him.

“I’m familiar with contemplation. I often participate in it when I’m avoiding something in particular...usually keeping up with my correspondence.” He confides. “What is it you’re avoiding?”

Father Franklyn is a short, rotund priest who habitually wears black cord pants and a black shirt with his white collar. His twinkling eyes are set behind delicate glasses and his laugh line crinkled forehead is topped with a quantity of greying, light brown hair. Sebastian finds him rather fatherly, in a way his own father was not.

“It’s my birthday today.” Sebastian tells him.

“Happy birthday.”

“I don’t feel much like celebrating.”

“I can tell.” Father Franklyn says evenly. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.” He replies apologetically. “I just...wanted to do something, other than sit at home and think about it.”

“Would you like to help me organise the donations for the homeless shelter?” Father Franklyn offers. “I could use a second pair of hands.”

“Thank you Father.” Sebastian allows his face to display a small smile.

“It really is just me taking advantage of a willing soul.” The priest says lightly. “Though I do have biscuits that I am more than willing to share.”

In the basement of the modern part of the church, Sebastian sorts through plastic garbage sacks of clothes and toys, hanging the clothing on a rail to steam with an industrial steamer borrowed for the purpose of making the rumpled clothes neat. Afterwards he folds and sorts the articles by size and gender into marked boxes. Father Franklyn works on his own pile, occasionally raising his eyebrows and commenting on whatever outdated horror someone has decided to donate, rather than consign to the trash.

“There’s something about a sequinned miniskirt that doesn’t quite say, ‘come in from the cold and get a new lease on life’.” The priest wonders aloud. “Personally I think it’s the word ‘biatch’ on the ass of it that takes away from the churches message.”

Sebastian smiles to himself. The priest is good company, his sense of humour good and light.

“I just said ‘biatch’ in my own church.” The priest shakes his head. “I shall have to do my penance for that...at least I can pardon myself.”

“You also said ‘ass’.” Sebastian points out.

“Made you say it.” Father Franklyn grins.

“Indeed you did.” He says dryly. Sebastian unfurls a particularly ugly mustard yellow shirt.

They work in silence for another half hour, hanging and steaming clothing and putting aside toys and shoes for separate care.

“Sebastian, would you mind if I asked...the thing that you do not wish to think of, today of all days. Is it connected with you taking your leave of Folsom, and the church?”

Sebastian’s hands freeze on a frightful Christmas sweater.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t wish to.”

“Yes, it does have to do with what happened in Folsom.” Sebastian admits.

“And the man you loved there?” Father Franklyn presses.

“He...”Sebastian sighs. “The last birthday I had, I had within reach of him...and I let it pass me by. Pass us by.” His fingers tighten on the fabric of the sweater. “I missed my chance to have somebody I loved close to me, on my first birthday worth celebrating.” He feels a crawling sense of embarrassment. “I realise that it is self indulgent to...”

“I don’t consider it to be self indulgent.” Father Franklyn assures him. “To miss him suggests that you truly loved him. You should take comfort in that knowledge.”

“I shall try.” Sebastian concedes, hanging the sweater up and reaching for a bunched up bundle of cloth that turns out to be a long gypsy-ish skirt.

“We all want people around us when we feel vulnerable, or alone.” Father Franklyn continues. “And nothing makes an aging man feel lower, in my experience, than a marker of his advancing years.” He folds a few articles of clothing. “You have no family, no friends to speak of?” He asks gently.

Sebastian dips his head over his work. “I have made none since leave the priesthood.”

“I know you have at least one.” Says the priest hotly, “I don’t ask just anyone to help me sort old clothing.”

Sebastian smiles despite himself.

“I am perfectly serious.” The priest says, smiling also. “You must count me as a friend, Sebastian. At another time we would have been colleagues.”

“Then I would have disappointed you.”

“Sebastian, you will only disappoint me if you lay down and give up. Until then, as long as you try, you cannot fail me.” Father Franklyn intones. “I believe I shall use that in a sermon.” He smiles.

“You should.” Sebastian agrees. “It was most effective.”

“Good, now I’ll go and get those biscuits.” The priest says with a grin. “All this work and sermonising has awoken my sweet tooth.”

The priest leaves the basement in search of his promised selection of biscuits, and Sebastian resumes his folding. There’s a kind of tentative peace in him. He decides that this is his best birthday so far, his first as a free man.

He only wishes Jude had been there to see it.

***

Jude had thought, naively as it turned out, that being ignorant of the exact date of Sebastian’s birthday would prevent him from obsessing over it. As it turned out, he merely obsessed for the entire month of May, as opposed to a weeklong segment of it.

In a purely masochistic gesture, he stops by the coffee shop that he often went to with Matthew before they’d parted so abruptly. Jude orders a cup of scalding hot coffee and a slice of chocolate cake at the counter, then finds himself a seat at the rear of the building. He drinks his coffee and eats his cake in slivers with a fork, a kind of monument to the cake he would have made Sebastian for the first of his birthdays to be celebrated with Jude.

In a few months Jude’s own birthday would roll around again and there would be no cake baked by the culinary craft impaired priest. There would be no day spent with his head in Sebastian’s lap smelling the clean scent of him and listening to him breathe evenly as he lies on his bed.

Then the anniversary of their parting.

Then Christmas, apart again.

Jude wonders how long it will take before he stops seeing the future in terms of days he won’t spend with Sebastian.

It hasn’t happened yet.

Without Matthew to distract him from his loneliness, and with his final assignments already handed in, Jude allows himself to stray into dangerous territory. He revisits memories of Sebastian, seeks out books that they read together and movies that they watched with each other. They worked their way through a great many of both during their months together, and so Jude is fully occupied, reliving that fraught, happy time of his life like an aged man reliving his youthful glory days.

Jude lies on his bed, fully clothed in jeans and a hooded sweater he put on three days previously. He still has his high-tops on, as he’d gone out to buy some food some time ago and having returned, flopped down on the bed, unexpectedly tired beyond belief.

His laptop is streaming an old Stephen King adaptation and a novel is lying open, spine upwards, beside it. He hasn’t left his room in three days by this point, and the thought of venturing even as far as the corner market for a new can of shaving cream is exhausting. There’s an open box of toaster treats by his bed, and when he feels hunger pangs, usually only once a day, he eats a few in their raw, boxed state.

On screen a group of children lock the doors of a diner and kill every grown man and woman inside it. Fake blood spatters everywhere as a man’s hand is forced into a blender.

Jude lets his eyes fall closed, drifting off to sleep.

He’s woken by someone hammering on his door. His laptop is dead, the battery having dwindled down to nothing as he slept, and he feels achy and empty and still so tired he can barely move.

The hammering continues.

“Shut up.” Jude groans, it comes out so quietly that even he can barely hear it. “Shut up...Shut the Hell up!” He finally yells.

The knocking subsides.

“Uh...Jude? It’s me Adam, your teachers assistant from Georgian lit?”

Jude winces as he sits up, feeling shivery and hung-over despite not having had anything alcoholic to drink. Why is his TA banging on his door at, (he checks his alarm clock) two in the morning?

“What do you want?” He shouts, edging off of the bed and shuffling through the darkened room, toeing stacks of books and empty cartons of food aside on his way to the door. He rubs a hand across his face, feeling the rough growth of a few days worth of stubble creeping along his jaw. He has no recollection of that being there before he went to sleep, but then it’s possible he hadn’t noticed.

“This is a little awkward...but, uh...Matt sent me?” Adam calls through the door.

Jude trips on a plastic cup of soda and curses as it pours out over the threadbare carpet.

“Why did Matthew send you?” he opens the door and glares at Matthew’s patsy, their red-headed TA, a wiry guy with serious eyes and who seemed to be perpetually wearing tan pants, with his hands jammed in the pockets.

“He was a little...worried...about you.” Adam says awkwardly, his eyes taking in the scruff on Jude’s face, his tangled hair and crumpled clothes.

“Well, I’m fine.” Jude grunts. “Isn’t this a little out of your job description?”

“It’s more of a favour.” Adam mutters.

Jude gets it then.

“Oh...you like him.” He smiles without warmth. “Well, good news for you, we broke up and I’m not in here trying to hang myself or whatever else he might have told you. So there won’t be any mourning period before you can get him to go out with you.”

“That’s not why I’m here.” Adam responds coldly.

“Great, glad we cleared that up.” Jude shuts the door in Adam’s face and goes back to bed.

In a few months he won’t have to pay rent on his student accommodation anymore and he can go home to Folsom. He really doesn’t know if that’ll make him feel any better, but it will beat being at college with Matthew.

Of course before then, he has to get through his birthday.

Jude practically sleeps the remainder of May and June away and soon enough, it’s his birthday. His first without Sebastian, he reminds himself. His already black mood turns, if possible, even further against the light. He’s been ignoring the summer sun as much as possible and only venturing out when it’s absolutely necessary and usually at night. The twenty-four hour supermarket has become his only escape from the fusty heat of his room with its perpetually drawn curtains.

This is how he finds himself, on the night of his nineteenth birthday, walking the streets at midnight with his limited groceries in a messenger bag over his shoulder. His gifts from his parents lie unopened at the bottom of the bag and he’s already exhausted, both mentally and physically from his brief term inside the fluorescently lit supermarket. He keeps his head down and walks determinedly onwards, back towards his accommodation. He only slows when he glances up and notices a familiar building.

The church where he and Matthew had shared their first kiss.

That’s not what Jude is thinking of however, as he approaches the doors of the church, his mind occupied with the ironic thought of ‘sanctuary’. After all, some of the best and worst things to happen to him have occurred within the house of the Lord. It’s desperation that leads him to a pew at the back of the church, dumping his bag on the floor as he goes. Jude sits down and looks up at the spot lit form of Jesus Christ on his cross, the circlet of thorns at his brow casting an awful, dark halo on the wall behind it.

Jude looks up at the figure of his saviour, frozen in his death throes. If he were of more dramatic temperament, he might speak to it. Though, if Jude were to speak at this very moment he would probably shout, scream and bay at the statue, watching it hang, unmoved by his words. Jude merely sits, looking at Jesus on his cross, and trying to feel anything like divine love and solace.

A certain magic ingredient is missing from the air. The church is not a holy place, it is just a building with wiring and copper pipes and drywall. The saviour before him is made of wood. Jude struggles to crest a wave of disappointment. He closes his eyes to pray but the words won’t come.

“Our Father...” he begins, but he can’t make himself speak the rest. He can’t summon the energy to bring the prayer into being. When it comes down to it, here, in the house of God, Jude lacks the faith necessary to pray.

Jude sits with his eyes closed until his back starts to ache from the hard wooden bench. He’s too tired to cry. If this is his dark night of the soul, then he has failed to retain his faith through it. This failure cuts him to the core, rubbing grit to the sore spot that the loss of Sebastian has left.

Stumbling back to his dorm in the early hours of the morning, Jude crashes into his room and lies sprawled out on the bed. His groceries lie in his bag and Jude makes no move to put them away. Instead, he sleeps for ten straight hours, waking only when pressed to by his bladder. Once awakened and having gone to the restroom, he opens his curtains to the afternoon light and eats an apple from his bag, sitting cross legged on the bed.

For the first time in a long time he feels well rested, wide awake.

Despite his lack of faith, despite his sin, he has made it this far. He has surrendered Sebastian, has done the strong thing, the impossible thing. Jude decides then and there that he cannot waste his sacrifice on the life he is leading. He needs to grit his teeth, get it together and keep going.

Jude finishes his apple goes to put the core in his overflowing garbage can. He bags up the garage and takes it out to the communal dumpster. Coming back, he notices that the floor is cluttered and feels gritty underfoot. He tidies his books and DVD’s up, putting the disks in their own cases and returning every item to a shelf or drawer. He balls together all his dirty laundry and puts it in his laundry bag so he can take it down to the utility room later.

The room looks moderately cleaner. Jude fetches the dorms single vacuum cleaner and runs it over his carpet to collect the crumbs and odds of paper and plastic that have worked their way into the fine weave of the worn carpet.

Jude returns the vacuum and goes to put on a load of laundry. The dorm building is mostly empty by this point, as most of the students had gone home for the summer as soon as they could. Jude leaves his washing to be pummelled in the soapy drum of the washer and goes to the grocery store a couple of streets from the campus. He hasn’t done proper food shopping in weeks, and he hasn’t really left campus during the day in twice as long.

He buys fruit and fresh vegetables, rice, pasta and the green chillies and the spices for a Thai curry. He’s been living off of apples, pop tarts and bread for so long that the sight of all the fresh produce almost panics him. Jude takes his purchases home and puts them away, spins his laundry in the drier and folds it neatly.

He knows, of course he knows, that this sudden flash of energy and focus is not solely from force of will. Whatever has been happening to him, whatever might have been causing the apathy that sunk him deeper every day, has finally relinquished its hold, if only slightly.

Jude intends to make the most of it. He doesn’t want to experience that encroaching darkness again.

Right now he feels like he’s just overcome a bout of illness, or like he’s changed out of rain soaked clothes and been allowed to curl up somewhere warm.

It feels like the sun is coming out.

Chapter Nine

Elijah mewls somewhere in the corner of his bedroom. Sebastian raises his head and squints into the dark. The very fact that it is still dark means that he has every right to be angry with his wayward cat for daring to wake him up. It’s a Sunday and he doesn’t have to go to work. He has two hours before he has to get up for church and he was planning to spend them sleeping as deeply as completely as possible.

Clearly Elijah had other plans.

“I’m up.” Sebastian sighs and draws himself into a sitting position.

Elijah jumps up on the bed and purrs like a jar of bees. Sebastian scratches his ears and lowers himself back onto the mattress, closing his eyes.

Elijah yowls pointedly.

“I hate you.” Sebastian groans.

Elijah paws at him until he drags himself out of bed and goes into the kitchen to open a can of food for the annoying feline. He makes himself some instant coffee and a sachet of microwave oatmeal. Yesterday’s paper is still on the table and he flicks through it without interest as he attempts to wake himself up.

There are new kinds of airport security being planned for domestic flights, a shortage of oil looks likely in the future and some kind of insurance scandal has everyone up in arms over cancer meds. Sebastian reads the awful news of the previous day with a growing sense of helplessness. Once he had believed that he was a servant of God, that it was his job to lead the faithful and make the world better. Now he is just one man, and though he volunteers and tries to do the right thing, his impact is minimal. He cannot do much to save the world.

“There is never any good news in this paper.” He mutters in the direction of Elijah. “Perhaps we should switch our subscription?”

Elijah devours a chunk of tuna.

“Mmm...I thought so.” Sebastian turns a page. “Oh look, a politician got caught with his mistress.” He frowns down at the paper. “Why would I want to read about that over breakfast?”

Elijah yowls plaintively from beside his empty bowl.

“It’s ok...I’m just talking to myself.” He flips the page and reads the opening of an article by Richard Dawkins. “Which according to some, I’ve been doing my entire life.” He looks down as the cat nudges its face against his leg. “Don’t worry, I’m still going to church.” He sighs.

Sebastian takes a shower and puts on a pair of black pants, a white shirt and a black blazer that he reserves for Sunday churchgoing. He walks to the church and smiles at the other members of the congregation as they make their way inside. Sebastian sits towards the rear of the building in a pew where he is eventually joined by two parents and their daughter. The mother smiles at him and dips her head in a greeting, which he returns just as the congregation hushes. Sebastian closes his eyes and offers up a quick prayer in preparation for the service.

The entrance song begins, announcing the procession and Sebastian stands, as does everyone else in the church. When Father Franklyn reaches the altar he turns and looks over the assembled men, women and children.

“The grace and peace of God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ be with you.” The priest intones, making the sign of the cross.

“And also with you.” Sebastian speaks the words along with the others.

“Lord, we have sinned against you.” Father Franklyn announces.

“Lord, have mercy.” The congregation murmurs.

“Lord, show us your mercy and love, and grant us your salvation. May almighty God have mercy on us, forgive us our sins, and bring us to everlasting life.”

“Amen.” The congregation mutter, Sebastian looks up towards Father Franklyn and feels the words of the familiar penitential rite settle him into serenity. As always it is Jude that comes to mind, but here and now, he does not feel sickened and unclean, he feels as if forgiveness really might be his. One day.

“Lord have mercy.” The priest calls.

“Lord have mercy.” Sebastian repeats, along with his fellows.

“Christ have mercy.”

“Christ have mercy.” Sebastian utters with as much forceful belief as he can muster.

“Lord have mercy.”

“Lord have mercy.” Sebastian murmurs.

Father Franklyn displays a small, beneficent smiles and Sebastian soaks it up along with the feeling of peace that radiates from the very walls of the church. Gloria begins and Sebastian lets the words hum around him.

“Glory to God in the highest, and peace to his people on earth. Lord God, heavenly King, almighty God and Father, we worship you, we give you thanks, we praise you for your glory. Lord Jesus Christ, only Son of the Father, Lord God, Lamb of God; you take away the sin of the world, have mercy on us; you are seated at the right hand of the Father: receive our prayer.”

Sebastian lets his eyes trace the shapes on the back of the pew in front of him as Father Franklyn continues.

“For you alone are the Holy One, you alone are the Lord, you alone are the Most High, Jesus Christ, with the Holy Spirit, in the glory of God the Father. Amen.”

The priest takes a breath before going on, his voice calm and level.

“Let us pray, Lord God, bless us with the benefit of your patience. Let us remember that all things come in their time, and that our efforts shall have effect, that they shall reap results where we have lent our strength to worthy endeavours. Amen.”

“Amen.” Sebastian echoes, feeling his own concerns soothed by the soothing prayer. He sits for the beginning of the liturgy of the word, and as the first reading commences he cannot prevent his thoughts from drifting. It seems that recently he sees every occasion is an event that lacks Jude, and now that the anniversary of their parting is almost upon him, Sebastian is filled with both grief and bittersweet solace.

He grieves for what he took from Jude, and what their parting has made of both himself and the young boy. Even though he knows nothing of Jude’s current life, he knows enough of the boy himself to judge that he would not have let go of what happened lightly. Sebastian hasn’t either.

Underneath his grief lies a newer feeling of, if not happiness, at least contentment. In the past year he has made something of his life, something more honest than his life within the church ever was. He knows exactly who he is and he can make his peace with the reality of himself, and with the sacrifices he must make to steer himself clear of sin.

He only hopes the Jude can do the same.

“This is the word of the Lord.”

“Thanks be to God.” Sebastian says along with the others.

Much of the rest of the service passes Sebastian by, he is familiar with the passages that are being read and somehow his full attention is never with them for long, he thinks instead of whether Jude is currently sitting in a church like this one, hearing similar words and uttering similar phrases. He hopes so. The faith would be the poorer for the loss of Jude Walker.

Sebastian receives communion and feels the satisfaction of being within the walls of God’s house, receiving his blessing. At the end of the service, Father Franklyn looks down on them peaceably and utters the last few lines of the familiar ceremony.

“The Lord be with you.”

“And also with you.”

“And may the blessing , of almighty God, the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, come upon you and remain with you forever.”

“Amen.”

“The mass is ended, go in peace.”

So Sebastian does, for the most part.

***

CCR flows out of a radio in Folsom, ‘Bad Moon Rising’ filling up the sleepy silence of the Walker family’s breakfast table. The first college year has come to an end for Jude and he’s spending a few scant weeks at home with his parents, enjoying the break before he absolutely has to begin apartment hunting.

“How was your last semester, Son?” Jude’s father is half reading a catalogue for car parts and half lifting a forkful of eggs to his mouth.

“Good.” Jude tucks into the plate of pancakes bestowed on him by his mother. He’s missed her cooking, and the bright, yellow kitchen of his childhood home. The red and white gingham oilcloth on the table is still peeling at the left corner and the bananas in the cow shaped fruit bowl are still perpetually past their best. Everything smells like coffee and supermarket own brand washing soap. It’s glorious.

“Made any new friends?” his father persists.

“One or two.” Jude mumbles into his pancakes.

“Girls?”

“Samuel.” Jude’s mother chides, “Let the boy eat.”

His father chews eggs and raises his eyebrows jokingly. “I’m interested – he’s my son isn’t he? A Walker boy – he should be beating them away with a stick.” He grins at his son. “Anyone special?”

Something cold slides down Jude’s throat along with his mouthful of spongy batter.

“No one special.”

Jude has in fact, avoided Matthew like the proverbial plague. He’d ducked around campus like an intruder for the final months of the semester and switched classes to the afternoon English session.

As if summoned by his father’s questioning however, there is a new email from Matthew in his inbox when Jude checks his laptop later. He’s sitting on his bed, the old and much washed ThunderCats duvet cover from his early childhood feels soft and familiar under his bare feet. He’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, under a poster torn from a Sci-Fi magazine at least five years old.

Matthew has written:

To – Jude.Walker@ARC.Com

Jude,

I’m sorry for the way I acted with you. You hurt my feelings and, I guess I overreacted.

But I think I was right about one thing.

You need help. No one should hate themselves like that.

I’d really like to be your friend.

Matt.

Jude ignores the email for a week.

He takes Aaron out to the movies to see that summer’s superhero epic. They go to a Burger King afterwards and talk over their half congealed burgers and sweating paper cups of soda.

“Tandy Grayson is in my chemistry class next year.” Aaron says casually.

“Oh yeah?” Jude feels a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Shut up.” His younger brother blushes.

“Will not.” Jude says automatically. “You like her?”

“Yeah.” His brother says awkwardly.

“She single?”

Aaron nods.

“She hot?”

“Jude!” Aaron looks scandalised, which Jude finds pretty hilarious.

“So yes then.” He sips his cola. “Ask her out, what have you got to lose?” Jude points out.

“She might say no.” Aaron wriggles uncomfortably. “She might...tell people – they’ll laugh at me.”

Jude munches a cold fry speculatively.

“There are worse things.” He says eventually, and doesn’t elaborate.

Aaron doesn’t ask him to.

Matthew it turns out, is not so easily discouraged. There are two new emails a week later, also from Matt’s college email, and no matter how much Jude would rather just delete them, he feels a strange compulsion to read them.

To – Jude.Walker@ARC.Com

Jude,

I don’t know if this means you don’t forgive me, period, or whether you’ve forgiven me and you just don’t want to talk about it.

Either way I guess that’s fair.

I miss you dude.

Matt.

The other email is just a link to a webpage designed for ‘the emotional wellbeing of latent homosexuals with rigid upbringings’.

Jude doesn’t click on it.

His Mom makes him breakfast in the mornings and he spends all day either kicking back around the house, or walking around town, feeling the sunshine burn the back of his neck.

Jude’s father teaches him how to remove and charge a car battery, how to change a tire and check the oil. It’s not really a surprise when Jude gets a second hand car from his parents. A gift for doing so well on his first year at college. It’s a green 2006 Toyota Corolla, and Jude packs it up with his stuff come fall, driving away from his parents and back to college.

Jude moves into his shared student apartment before the other three residents. He’s never met any of them in person, but they seem pleasant enough. His room is small and green, with an old desk and a bed that squeaks.

Matthew emails him that week.

To – Jude.Walker@ARC.Com

Jude,

Sandi from Lit 101 said she saw you back in town.

I moved up here again a fortnight ago.

Would it be ok if I wanted to meet up? Just to see how you are?

Matt.

Jude hates that he’s lonely already, but he has to admit that right now, he’d kill to see a friendly face.

To – Matthew.Park@ACR.Com

Matt,

Sure, I’m free until the semester starts.

Marty’s Coffee Place? Friday, 10am?

Jude.

He receives a reply in the positive, and on Friday he gets up and dressed and wanders through the already balmy streets to the coffee shop they used to go to with the rest of their Lit class for study sessions. It’s the standard in student chic, shabby furniture and oddball decorations (a framed coffee cup containing a skull, a massive cockroach made of coffee beans) but it’s comfy and cheap, so Jude can’t afford to be picky.

“Hey Matt.” He says, spotting the blond boy at their regular back table. Jude sets his black coffee and toasted cheese down on the table and sits opposite him. Matthew looks the same as he always did, down to the freckles on the bridge of his nose and the cord bracelet on his wrist.

“Hey, Jude.” Matthew says evenly. “How was your summer?”

“Ok.” Jude shrugs.

“Good.”

They look down at the table awkwardly.

“I’m sorry.” Jude says at last. “About the sweater...it was a shitty thing to do...it was dumb.”

“It was important to you.” Matthew sighs. “You were...I don’t know, I thought about it and...I get why you wanted to keep me out of your life like that – like maybe you were protecting the memory of someone.” He meets Jude’s eyes. “You didn’t want me to intrude.”

“That minor in psychology is paying off then.” Jude says awkwardly.

Matthew doesn’t laugh.

“How are you Jude? Really I mean?” he asks instead.

“I’m good.” Jude says quickly.

“You’re suffering.” Matthew reaches out slightly and Jude huffs in annoyance.

“I’m fine. It’s been...” he smiles ruefully. “It’s been a year, ok? I haven’t seen him in a year. I’ve moved on. I’m fine.”

“This is ‘the guy’? The one you don’t want to talk about.” Matthew clearly isn’t letting up. “The one who told you this was wrong?” he gestures between them. “Clearly you’re not over him, by any stretch of the imagination...and if you wanted to talk about that...”

Jude stands up, leaving his untouched food and drink to rattle on the table.

“I’ve had enough of this.” He mutters, turning away.

“Jude...”

Jude turns back to him and holds up his hand.

“Look, you’re sorry, I’m sorry. It was a mistake. Let’s just...” he starts for the door. “...pretend it never happened.”

Because Jude’s had so much luck with pretending.

Like the memory of Sebastian, Matthew persists. He emails, he hangs around the grocery store, the library, anywhere he thinks Jude might eventually show his face.

Come the start of the new semester, the first of his second year, he finally gets a chance to accost him on campus.

Jude can’t help thinking that if Matthew was just trying to get back together with him then at least he could just call him a stalker and an asshole. As it is, he's just trying to get to the heart of Jude's discomfort with the tenacity of both a psyche minor and a Catholic who has 'made peace' with his sexuality, so Jude doesn’t really have a leg to stand on, grievance wise.

Jude finds it by turns annoying and terrifying.

He doesn't want to talk about why he feels this way, which opens him up to talking about Sebastian, to wanting Sebastian. A sin of that magnitude is not something he can cope with, he's done it once, and he has promised himself (dark lonely days of self hate and nihilism not withstanding) that he will never fall into that great an error again.

He had tried to believe that he could have a relationship with Matthew, because Jude was already marked with sin, so what did it matter? But he didn't love him enough, or perhaps at all, to make it worth losing himself. And after some consideration, he was frightened to discover how much he still believed that he could be redeemed, that giving up Sebastian was the ultimate penance.

So no, Jude doesn't want to stir up anything that could ruin that.

Matthew just isn't prepared to let it slide.

Jude’s walking from his English Lit class to the double doors of the building’s exit when Matthew catches up to him. They’re mostly alone in the old quarter of the building; it’s ragged and faded displays and scent of mouldering construction paper warding off even the most studious lingerers.

"Jude!" He calls, hand finding Jude’s arm and leading him into an alcove.

"Let go of me." Jude shrugs him off and tries to leave for the outside world but Matthew's in his way.

"No, just listen...I'm sorry about before." He shifts, scuffing his boots into the tiles on the floor. "I get it, I freaked you out...but please think about this, about what you're doing to yourself."

"I'm not doing anything." Jude growls. "Let me go to class."

"Take this." He shoves a plain paper pamphlet into his hand, smudgy and printed in black. Jude glances down at it.

"What the fuck are you trying to do?" he crumples the leaflet one handed. "Matthew, just let it go. It's nothing to do with you."

"Just, give it a shot Jude." Matthew says sadly. "I'll see you around."

He disappears, leaving Jude with a handful of crumpled paper and a leaden stomach. He shoves the leaflet into his bag and storms out into the brilliant sunshine. He has assignments to read and notes to type up – that’s enough to keep him occupied.

Two more years and he can get the hell away from Matthew and California and every memory he’d rather die than examine too closely.

Jude finds the pamphlet in his bag a week later, crushed under the weight of his English Lit reader. He hesitates over it, eyes flicking to the trashcan in the corner of his room. It's stupid to hang onto the thing really; he has no intention of going. How can it possibly help him to hear other people like him attempt to fathom a way to be both gay and yet still go to heaven?

He knows already that it can't be done.

However, three texts and nine emails from Matthew seem to suggest that he doesn't really have a choice. If going to this support group with him will get Matthew off his back, then fine, he'll go.

He also has a lingering hope that perhaps going will help him to halt the confused notions that still remain with him, thoughts of Sebastian and memories of their time together. He needs to know that it's over, has in reality been over for a long time, and perhaps meeting others like himself, still living in error even though they are, might help him to see how far he's come, and how much he still has left to lose.

The previous day he'd opened his reader to do an assignment, and found that it was on a portion of ‘Elijah’s Gate’
He read the chunk of text, something about Elijah’s relationship with his wife, which didn't quite register with his brain, then he'd closed the book and shoved it back into his bag, upset without fully understanding why.

Sebastian was a long time ago; it has become his mantra, he tells it to himself over and over again, without beads to count it.

Sebastian was a long time ago.

Don't think about him.

Sebastian was a long time ago.

I'm better now.

Sebastian was a long time ago...

I wonder where he is.

It's the question he comes back to over and over, along with 'Does he still think about me?' and always ending in the same flat prayer.

I hope he's ok.

***

Sebastian lies on the couch in his apartment, a shivering mound of bedding topped with a curled up cat. Beside him on the floor is an empty glass, a wastepaper basket of used tissues and an empty bottle of Tylenol. Sebastian shifts limply.

Elijah, get off.” He mutters.

The cat snuggles lovingly into the lumpy cushion that is his master’s miserable sickbed.

Off.” Sebastian whines.

The cat purrs. Sebastian curls up smaller and tries to ignore the presence of Elijah entirely. He’s been sick for a week and has run out of even the most basic medicine and supplies. What he really wants is a tall glass of water and some hot soup. Neither is within immediate reach of the couch, however.

The TV is playing an E.R. marathon, not because he can’t summon the energy to use the remote at his side, but because he has never had any particular taste in television. This however is mildly soothing.

At least he doesn’t have a tree through his chest.

After a while his stomach rumbles and Sebastian stirs himself enough to get off of the sofa, dislodging Elijah and sending him scuttling into the kitchen before him. His feet feel damp on the kitchen floor, his pyjamas are sticking to him and he realises he’s sweating quite a lot. That can’t be good. His knees feel kind of rubbery as well, so much so that when he reaches the kitchen he has to lean on the counter for fear of sinking to the floor.

His dishes from the last few days are still in the sink waiting to be washed, but he locates a clean mug for his water and a clean bowl for his soup. Sebastian opens the cupboard and scans the shelves. He has dried rice and chickpeas, but not more cans of soup. His stomach grumbles again, this time with greater urgency. He looks through the rest of the kitchen; there is mustard and wilted celery in the refrigerator, ice in the freezer and tins of cat food under the sink. His groceries, usually sparse, had failed to last him more than the single week they were intended for. Sebastian aches with hunger now and runs himself off a glassful of water, dragging himself back to the couch and under the duvet.

He snatches up a tissue and blows his sore nose for what feels like the thousandth time. He’s far too weak to get to the store and he knows it, but with no food in the house his choices are to venture out or starve on his couch for the foreseeable future.

In his pathetically weakened state he lets his mind drift to his parents, who seldom cared for him when he was sick, preferring instead to leave him the means to do so himself while there were at work. As a child Sebastian had frequently suffered bouts of illness, and he remembers clearly being left alone in his blue bedroom with its wooden crucifix wall ornament. He had a tray by his bed with a package of crackers and a glass of water as well as cough syrup and cold medicine. He had been trusted, even at such an early age, to get the dosage exactly right. Sebastian thinks, judging by the airplane sheets on his bed in the memory, that he might have been eight.

He wakes to the phone ringing, confused for a second because he doesn’t remember falling asleep.

Getting off of the couch requires more effort than it had before, however long ago that had been. His forehead burns and his head feels like it’s being pulled apart in separate directions by steel hooks. His legs almost buckle as he shuffles to the phone.

Hello?” He rasps into the receiver.

Sebastian?” Father Franklyn’s voice comes down the line, concern audible in it. “You sound terrible.”

I’m a little ill.” Sebastian can’t contain a cough and muffles it with his hand instead. “What was it that you wanted?”

Do you have anyone there taking care of you?” Father Franklyn asks, instead of answering Sebastian’s question.

No. But I am fine, I’m going to go and buy some medicine.” Sebastian doesn’t know if that will be possible, he seems to be feeling worse by the minute. A quick glance at the clock tells him that he’s been asleep for two hours. Only two hours and his head feels like it’s on the verge of boiling away.

Go back to bed, I’m on my way over.” The priest says finally.

I really am fine, there’s no need to...”

Sebastian, you sound like a man on the verge of death. I’ll be there in under half an hour and I’m bringing supplies. No arguments.”

Sebastian hangs up the phone after the priest disappears from the line and forces his body to move back to the couch. He slumps down on top of the duvet, lacking the strength to crawl underneath it, and closes his eyes, dozing and shivering until someone knocks on his door. He lets the priest in and allows himself to be dragged back to the couch and tidied away under the duvet. Father Franklyn has with him a hessian shopping bag which he sets down by the couch.

You look like Hell.” The priest diagnoses succinctly. “And I don’t bandy that word around, I can tell you.” He takes Sebastian’s temperature with the back of his hand. “Burning up too.” He frowns down at him. “Have you taken any medicine today?”

Sebastian shakes his head.

The priest offers him a couple of pills and a bottle of chilled water.

Sebastian takes the tablets and drinks a large quantity of the water afterwards, it’s blissful on his raw, dry throat. Father Franklyn leaves him with the bottle and goes into the kitchen.

You like chicken noodle?” He calls.

Yes.” Is all Sebastian can manage in reply.

The priest whistles as he fixes the soup and he returns with a steaming bowl and a plate of crackers to go with it.

Eat slowly.” He advises, settling into an armchair as Sebastian begins to sip spoonfuls of clear broth. “Usually I wouldn’t see the wisdom in eating with a fever, but you look ready to pass out.”

Thank you, for coming.” Sebastian says after a while.

The priest clicks his tongue in response.

It’s nothing.” He assures the sick man.

I’ve lived here for almost two years, and I’ve never heard of you doing this kind of thing.”

Most of the other members of the church have their families nearby.” The priest remarks, delving in his bag and pulling out a newspaper already folded to the crossword section. “Besides, you’re my friend, and my brother.”

I’m not a priest anymore.” Sebastian breaks a cracker in half and looks down at it idly.

My family is the church, and you can’t quit family.” The priest points out, looking down at the crossword. “Now, I need a nine letter word for ‘die hard, obstinate’...ends in ‘s’.”

Sebastian thinks for a while.

Tenacious.”

“Correct.” The priest marks the letters in happily. “I can see this is going to work out well for both of us.” He looks at him happily over his glasses. “Answer five more and I’ll get you some ginger ale.”

Sebastian finishes his lunch and settles back into his makeshift bed, sleepy and comfortable.

“Deal.” He sighs.

Sebastian had already missed over a week of work thanks to the tenacious form of flu that had laid him low. Thanks to Father Franklyn’s visits in the next few days however, he made it through and avoided the prospect of starving alone in his apartment. The priest turned up for three days in a row armed with crosswords, ginger ale and a firm but compassionate bed manner. Sebastian therefore felt suitably coddled and recovered by the fourth day to call into the library and tell them that he would be fit to work.

A few hours into his shift he begins to feel that such a gesture of recovery was a poor choice on his part.

Sebastian scans the spines of the books around him. Somehow they have managed to misplace an entire section of renaissance art guides. He has no idea how something that incredible has been accomplished, but he’s been searching the library for over two hours and he has no idea where they could have gone. Sighing, Sebastian begins to make his way back to the front desk. Perhaps it is a computer error and the books are actually out at the moment. He hopes so.

Evelyn is at the front desk stacking reserved books with their scrappy pieces of paper held on with elastic bands. Her cherry red dress makes the area around her look dull in comparison, her ID badge swinging from side to side on its black lanyard as she reaches up. Glancing his way she bares her teeth in a pleased smile.

“Sebastian, where have you been hiding all morning?”

“Looking for the big renaissance guidebooks.” He sighs, half-heartedly reordering some leaflets by the security sensors. “Do you have any idea where they’ve gotten to?”

Evelyn shakes her head. “No clue, they’ve probably been shelved wrong. They’ll turn up.” She cocks her head to one side. “What time are you taking your lunch break today?”

“When I find those books.” Sebastian says, smiling ruefully. In reality he’s hoping to have his lunch alone in the break room and though Evelyn is friendly, her attention to him is something he has no idea how to deal with.

“Oh.” She looks a little put out, her mouth curving in a moue of disappointment. “Well, perhaps I’ll be around then.”

Sebastian smiles and excuses himself to continue his search, idly looking for the missing books as he shelves a trolley full of recently retuned novels and reference books. The library is quiet today, more so than usual. The reading area with its green, scratchy armchairs is deserted, save for an elderly man with a newspaper in his hands. The stacks are empty of life and the only sounds are the scuffing of Sebastian’s loafers on the brown fuzz of the carpet and the squeak of the trolley wheels.

Shoving the unwieldy contraption along into the crime section, Sebastian honestly isn’t expecting anyone to be there. So when he almost runs Father Franklyn down it’s hard to tell which of the two men is more surprised.

“Sorry Father.” Sebastian winces, hauling the trolley round and out of the way just before the collision occurs.

“It will teach me to expand my interests when it comes to literature.” The priest smiles guiltily, indicating the stack of detective novels in his arms. “You’ve discovered my one and only vice...well, aside from confectionery, admittedly.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” Sebastian says with a smile. “I have been known to indulge in a P.J. Tracy or two over a long weekend.”

The priest mimes shock. “And here I believed you to be the last bastion of good taste.”

“I have shelved far too many problematic eighteenth century classics to find them in any way relaxing.” Sebastian shrugs. “Besides, Tracy is the best in the genre.”

“I took a copy of Ulysses to the head once, I understand how you feel.” The priest shifts his load of books from one arm to the other. “Though I prefer Cornwell.”

Sebastian shakes his head, as if at a loss as to how to respond to that pronouncement. Father Franklyn grins.

“Would you like me to check those out for you?” Sebastian asks, finally.

“That would be appreciated.”

Sebastian walks to the front desk with the priest, finding it mercifully unoccupied. He takes the priest’s library card, scans and stamps the five detective novels and sets them on the other side of the security scanners. The priest picks them up and retrieves his library ticket.

“Thank you Sebastian.” The older man smiles, his eyes as childishly brilliant behind his glasses as they always were. “I trust you’ll stop by soon to see me?”

Sebastian widens his eyes in surprise. “If you wouldn’t mind me visiting...”

“It’s just me, several fictional policemen and a biscuit selection, I would adore visitors.” The priest assures him. “I’ve enjoyed the last few days, though you were fairly incapacitated, you were without doubt charming company...Don’t be a stranger.” The older man smiles and leaves with his armful of second-rate reading material, Sebastian resumes his work with the pleasant feeling that he’s made a true friend.

Not even the prospect of shelving a whole pile of hefty classical volumes can dampen his spirits.

***

Jude’s classes this year are heavy and time consuming. He’s studying both contemporary and classical literature from America, Canada and England, most of which requires him to learn entire century’s worth of unfamiliar history. With all the reading he has to cloister himself away to get done and the papers he has to write, not to mention attending classes and his part time job at the student bookstore, he has very little time to himself.

His extensively complicated schedule works in his favour in that respect, there’s little time to think about Matthew and his persistent campaign to get under Jude’s carefully constructed defences. The other boy seems to have settled in for the long haul, and if a day goes past without an email about support groups landing in Jude’s inbox, it’s only because Matthew has tracked him down in person.

Despite Matthew’s increasingly frequent attempts at ‘helping’ him, Jude still counts him as a friend, and they do spend time together, whenever his schedule and ability to tolerate Matt allow it.

Today is one such day and Jude and Matthew are back in their habitual haunt, Marty’s coffee shop. They sit at their favourite table in the back, beside a print of the Mona Lisa clutching a double latte in her pale hand. Matthew fingers the cord bracelet on his wrist, his Mighty Mouse t-shirt worn to holes at the hem by laundrette abuse. Jude buys for them both, it is his turn after all, so he orders two coffees and raisin cookies the size of his hand.

“How’s Georgian Lit going?” Jude asks the blond teenager.

Matthew makes an inarticulate sound of pain through a mouthful of cookie.

“Glad I stuck to The Western Novel.” Jude chuckles.

“It’s just so dense.” Matthew complains. “Even the critical essays are practically in code they’re so old.” He breaks a piece of cookie apart with his fingers. “So have you thought about that last thing I emailed you?”

“You made it a whole four minutes.” Jude glares at him.

Matthew smiles remorselessly.

“One day you’ll listen.”

“Seems unlikely. But I am getting tired of my inbox being filled.” Jude glowers.

“Well, I worry about you.” Matthew complains, then holds up a hand. “Still, that shall be my last word on the subject.”

“Today at least.” Jude rolls his eyes. “What’s new with you?”

“I have a...thing in the works.” Matthew’s sandy eyebrows twitch with barely contained glee.

“Is this anything to do with why Adam the TA is doing you favours?” Jude still hasn’t forgotten the oddness that was the red haired man showing up at his dorm to check on him.

“It might.” Matthew admits, a grin splitting his tanned face.

“Let me guess, he offered to tutor you, your hands brushed over an anthology...”

“He asked me out, I said yes.” Matthew rolls his eyes.

“Ah, that old rouse.” Jude snorts, taking a deep draught of hot coffee. “This stuff is getting worse, I didn’t think it was possible.”

Matthew looks at him speculatively.

“I don’t understand how you can think it’s ok.”

“Well, it’s bad but it’s not the worst coffee I’ve ever had.” Jude shrugs.

“No.” Matthew explains patiently. “Me and Adam.”

“He’s a Teachers Aid.” Jude frowns. “Teacher’s Assistant? How does that work again? Anyway, if he was a professor or something I’d think it was a little odd, but he’s not, so it’s fine.” He shrugs.

“But you think that this, the whole dating guys thing, is wrong.” Matthew says hesitantly. “So, how are you joking with me about it, don’t you care?”

“Sure I care.” Jude sighs. “I believe it’s wrong, but I don’t make your choices and I’m not going to come down on you for it.”

“You’re just trying to make me stop bothering you.” Matthew smirks.

“Is it working?”

“What do you think?”

Jude sighs and finishes his coffee.

“Oh, did you want to go see a movie today?” Matthew asks.

“I have to go, I’ve got a novel to finish annotating and a paper to start.” Jude groans.

“Keep checking your email Jude.” Matthew calls after him as his friend leaves the coffee shop.

“Will do.” Jude mutters, shoving open the door and walking out onto the street. The way back to his second year apartment is further than he had to go home the previous year. By the time he gets there Jude is already focusing on his essay and the themes he has to identify in the source material.

He goes into his place and sets out his laptop, stack of books and bundle of coloured highlighters.

He doesn’t remember what day it is, or to be more specific, what month it is, until he’s halfway through his work. May the first. The month of Sebastian’s birthday. Jude sets his pen side and closes the novel he’s reading. He picks up his phone and calls Matthew.

“Jude, hi.” His friend answers. “What’s up?”

“I changed my mind, what time do you want to meet up?”

***

Sebastian’s second birthday without Jude is his thirty-third birthday. They’ve been apart for almost two years and the sum of the older man’s reward for lasting so long is a thirty second period upon waking, during which he doesn’t think about his life as being lived away from Jude. He isn’t an ex-priest in self imposed exile, he’s just a man in a double bed, sleeping beside a ginger cat.

Then he remembers; it’s his birthday, he’s thirty-three and he has nothing to show for it.

Sebastian feels resentful of nothing in particular until he’s on his second cup of black, sugarless tea. During the time it takes for him to shower and get dressed he forces himself to cast such self indulgent thoughts aside. He might not have to work today, but he can find something useful to occupy his time and prevent him from moping. Today can be just another day.

He vacuums the various green and red woven rugs that dot the floor of his living room. Elijah crouches on the couch, hissing whenever the rumbling machine passes too close. Sebastian hums low under his breath as he works, snatches of radio tunes sticking in his brain until he’s singing quietly, mismatched lines that he’s not really thinking about.

Once the living room is clean, Sebastian cleans out his refrigerator and wipes down all the shelves inside. Singing tunelessly he washes his breakfast dishes and dries them, putting them away before he wipes the surfaces clear of crumbs. When he’s finished he stands for a moment holding a yellow sponge in one hand. There’s nothing left to do around the house.

He picks up the phone and dials the number beside it, scrawled on a yellow sticky note.

“Sebastian, hello, and might I add, happy birthday?”

“How did you know it was me?” The dark haired man asks.

“I have caller ID on my new phone.” Father Franklyn tells him confidentially. “I’m enjoying my sudden reputation as a mildly psychic priest though, so keep it to yourself.”

“I will.” Sebastian smiles. “I was wondering...”

“If I had any need of your assistance today, of all days?” The priest guesses. “Sebastian, not only am I insulted that you think I wouldn’t want your company today regardless...but I was just about to call you.”

“You were?” Sebastian feels flustered, he’s never been good with reacting to people’s casual affection.

“It’s your birthday, of course I was.” Father Franklyn tells him gently. “I also have a surprise for you, as well as another pile of clothing to sort for the homeless shelter...I’ll see you within the hour I trust?”

“I’ll leave right away.” Sebastian promises.

“I’ll put some tea on.” The priest laughs.

Setting down the phone, Sebastian feels a genuine smile span his features, a smile of more than just happiness, of relief. He can’t remember the last time someone wanted to spend time with him. Actually, he can, but he had been sick at the time and up until now he’d thought the priest had been being kind. Now he’s beginning to suspect that he has a friend in the old priest, his first friend since he was fourteen.

He walks to the bungalow beside the church and makes good time, Father Franklyn opens the door as he arrives and the bespectacled priest smiles when he sees him.

“It’s brewing as I speak.” Father Franklyn tells him. “Let me show you into my parlour.”

The priest leads him into the hallway and from there into the living room, a neat square room with butter yellow walls and framed photos of church events in a descending arc across the back wall. The dark blue corduroy couch that Sebastian is bid to sit on is comfortable and old, like its owner. Father Franklyn potters back into his kitchen.

“Make yourself comfortable.” He calls over his shoulder.

Sebastian looks around the snug ‘parlour’ taking in the detective novel splayed over the arm of the armchair opposite the couch. There’s a sampler on the wall above the door that reads ‘God Bless This Mess’ in shaky magenta and olive stitches. The same hand can be seen in the production of a cushion on the sofa, which is decorated with the same slogan.

Father Franklyn returns with a tray that holds a tea pot in a blue knitted cosy, two mugs, a handful of sugar cubes on a plate and a milk jug. He sets the tray on the coffee table in front of the couch and takes a seat in the armchair, sinking heavily into the cushions. No sooner has he sat down than starts to heave himself up again.

“I can’t believe I forgot.” He grouses to himself. He goes back to the kitchen and returns with three stacked plates, the top one bearing a palm sized cake, iced white with a blue star on top. The priest sets the cake down on the table and sits down.

“Happy birthday Sebastian.” He smiles.

“Thank you Father.” Sebastian says sincerely. It’s his first birthday cake, though he isn’t going to say so.

“I’ve always rather liked the idea of having a cake dedicated to just myself, just for one day.” The priest tells him. “Though at this point it’s hardly worth me acknowledging my birthdays, I feel so old already.” He looks shrewdly at Sebastian. “I trust you’re going to share?”

Sebastian smiles.

“Of course.”

“Good man.”

Sebastian cuts the cake into slices with the knife resting on the side of the cake plate, transferring a slice each to the remaining plates. Father Franklyn pours tea and sugars his own thoroughly. Sebastian picks his cake up and nibbles the icing, feeling a peculiarly childish feeling overcome him, a delight in the sweet and attainable.

“So, how do you feel, at this princely age?” The priest asks.

“I feel thirty-three.” Sebastian says simply.

“Understandable.” Father Franklyn takes a sip of tea. “Some people hold that thirty-three was the age of Christ when he was crucified.” He looks at Sebastian thoughtfully. “Myself I think it’s a good age, you’re wiser, you have learnt from your mistakes and yet you still have decades ahead of you.”

“I suppose I do.” Sebastian looks down at the remaining boulder of cake.

“You don’t sound so happy about that...I’m sorry.” The priest says gently.

“I’m content with the time I have now.” Sebastian sighs. “It’s just the time I’ve had, and what’s to come...” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with my life.”

“Or what the point of it has been?” The priest guesses. “One of life’s mysteries I’m afraid. Mine is not to reason why.” He glances up at Sebastian. “But you can do anything, at all, with your life. Choice. That’s a powerful thing.”

“My choices haven’t been entirely for the good.” Sebastian points out.

“I can’t comment on that, mainly because you haven’t told me the entirety of what brought you here.” Father Franklyn points out. “But you’re my friend, and I think you’re a good man, and that you deserve whatever happiness you find from now on.”

It’s the first time someone has given him permission to be happy since Jude was in his life. Sitting here, in a house that is a home, with a friend and a cake entirely devoted to him; Sebastian feels that perhaps his life isn’t playing out towards its end.

Perhaps it is yet climbing towards its apex.

***

“Happy birthday dude.” Matthew shouts from outside of Jude’s apartment.

Jude opens the door to find the blond haired teen in an offensively bright blue college sweater. He’s holding a pastry box from Marty’s in one hand and two cups of coffee in a cardboard carrier in the other.

“How did you know?” Jude asks as Matthew pushes past him into the apartment and sets down his offerings.

“You’re on facebook, doesn’t take a genius.” Matthew grins. “Besides, since there was that whole split thing last year I thought I owed you a nice birthday.”

“I was an ass to you.” Jude points out, closing the door and coming to sit on the futon beside the IKEA coffee table.

“We were asses, have some cake.” Matthew opens the white cardboard box and presents him with a large blue iced cupcake. “My budget would only stretch so far. I had to go to a Costa for the coffee.”

“It’s appreciated.” Jude lifts his legs up onto the futon, crossing them as he reaches forward to take the cake. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“I feel kind of bad about not knowing when yours is.” Jude admits.

“Over the summer.” Matthew bites into his cake and smiles, his lip smudged with pale blue icing. “Don’t worry, we’ll do something.”

“As long as it’s not anything to do with the written word, I’m there.” Jude says ruefully, taking a large bite of cupcake.

“Final assessments kicking your ass huh?”

“You have no idea.” Jude groans.

“Yeah I do, we’re doing the same course, remember?” Matthew rolls his eyes. “Just think, in a year, this will all be over, for the last time. We’ll be graduates.”

“I can’t wait.” Jude grunts, finishing the rest of his cupcake in one swift bite.

Chapter Ten

In the small bedroom of his college apartment, Jude glares down at the novel he’s supposed to be reading for one of his final assessments. The dense, dark type keeps wriggling together on the page and he’s already forgotten what the damn thing is about.

Jude is finishing his third year at college. He still can’t believe how fast it’s gone – eat, sleep, go to classes; it’s eaten up three whole years in an eye blink. Not much has changed on the surface of his world, his room is still small and green and ugly, his bank balance is still appallingly low and as usual he’s behind on his assignments.

Jude still has the pamphlet from Matthew pinned to his notice board above his head. Sometimes he looks at it and debates going. He and Matthew have formed an uneasy truce, neither of them ever mentions it now, and so they have become firmer friends, after a fashion.

It’s only now in the second year of their tenuous friendship, the third year they’ve known each other, that Jude decides to take Matthew’s advice and go to the group recommended on the leaflet he gave him so long ago. If you asked Jude the question that Matthew has been avoiding, ‘Why now?’ he would not be able to give you a proper answer.

Mostly it’s because, sometimes he forgets for a while exactly what he is. Then he remembers, when he’s on the phone to his mother and she asks him if he’s met any nice girls, or when Aaron tells him about his latest crush.

When he hears church bells.

He’d very much like never to feel that way, like his heart has been sent down a hundred thousand fathoms, and crushed like a soda can by the pressure.

Jude meets Matthew on the street outside his apartment, they've got the weekend off and he's using it to go with Matthew for some religious therapy. It's at a church Jude hasn't been to before, but apparently the priest there has become a friend of Matthew’s ever since he moved to the area as a child.

"You'll like him, he, well he really helped me get and he's a lot more open to alternatives than other priests." Matthew enthuses as Jude drives them through the unfamiliar town. He's only half listening, mainly because he can't imagine the kind of priest who'd support sodomy in a kid barely out of high school. Not when Sebastian had felt as he did and still maintained that it was wrong.

"It took me a long time to come to terms with it myself, you know, I wasn’t out until the last year if high school, let alone in the position to tell my parents." Matthew continues. "But Father Adams was there the whole time, he really understands."

"I'm sure he does." Jude mutters, hands chocking the life from the steering wheel. Matthew notices his stiff posture.

"I'm talking too much, aren't I?" He sighs. "Sorry."

"No, it's...it's just I haven't been to church for a while...I kind of lapsed a little."

"I know." Matthew says softly. "I just don't get why. You're the most religious guy I know, you're like, scarily devoted, and I see what it does to you." He shakes his head. "Jude, before, when we were together? You were...a little erratic, like...closed off and then suddenly all over me like you can't stand to think about it, you disappeared for days after the first time I touched you...there." He finishes awkwardly. "And then, when we were moving into being serious....it just seemed like you were very devoted to staying on the right side of God."

“I was...it’s hard to explain.” Jude mutters.

Matthew presses. "I get that you're Catholic, hey, me too. But you're...I don't want to say 'unstable' but I never knew how you were going to react, one minute you were into it, next you were...destroyed."

"You want to have this conversation now?" Jude asks exasperatedly.

"I wanted to have it two years ago, but with everything else...there just never seemed a good time to ask." Matthew murmurs. "And you don't have to tell me, but you might want to talk to Franklyn about it."

"You call your priest by his first name?" Jude smirks, barely breaking the tension.

"I told you, he's great." Matthew points through the window. "That's the back entrance to the lot; church is just around the corner."

"Ok." Jude steers through the gates. "Let's do this."

Matthew shows Jude into the atrium of the church, they stop at the stoup and Jude dips his fingers into the water, making the sign of the cross as if he's never been away. The building is so still and silent, like the outside world has stopped and calmed for this place.

It's been an age since he was in a place like this, and yet he cannot be calm in a place like this, a place so redolent of incense and smoky fabric and Sebastian. It reminds him of Sundays spent watching him lead the hall in prayer, Jude wound unbearably tight with longing as he watched Sebastian's mouth move with the words, pale fingers tapping the edge of the lectern.

"You ok?" Matthew taps him on the shoulder and Jude realises he's been frozen, looking at the icon above the small vessel of holy water.

"Yeah, fine...so where's this priest of yours?"

"Somewhere around...I'll go check his office." Matthew smiles slightly. "I'll be back in a second."

"Not going anywhere." Jude mutters more to himself than Matthew's back.

He sighs and looks up at the carved ceiling, eyes following the ridges of the wood down to the stone supports, shaped like faces looking down. He's closes his eyes, trying to martial together a prayer.

"Please God...just make it stop. Let it be over." Is all he can manage, all he can think of. He needs to forget, to let go and to be able to do what Sebastian wanted; marry a woman and live his life the way he was supposed to.

***

Sebastian wakes up to his freezing cold apartment with heat blazing through him, disorientated and suddenly shivering as the sweat damp flesh of his chest connects with the cold air. He lies very still and wonders how many years it will take before he is physically unable to respond to these dreams. Feeling the wet cotton of his boxers clinging hotly against his skin, he hopes it will be sooner rather than later.

He doesn't think about his old life, he resolutely turned his eyes from it and he isn't going to make the mistake of turning back, as with Sodom and Gomorrah. In this case he would be the pillar of salt. He hasn't entirely let go of his teachings.

But Jude sneaks in. Or rather, Jude never really left and occasionally moves under his skin, prompting a dream or a sudden pang of memory. For the most part Sebastian pulls away from such memories as he would from a white hot object clumsily pressed into his palm.

The dreams are however, undeniable, as they always were.

He gets up, tosses the underwear into the hamper and makes his way to the tiny bathroom to wash. Before making his way back to bed, clean and wearing unsullied underwear, he goes to the refrigerator to pour out a glass of water. The fridge is mostly empty, save for the jug of water, a bottle of milk and a saran wrapped plate of pasta with parmesan and basil. He holds the cold glass in his hand, staring into his fridge at one in the morning, the room dark save for the white light of the open door.

He'd made that with Jude. That exact recipe, from one of his books, still lying open on the counter.

He can't believe he'd forgotten that.

Uneasily, and with a sense that he is being both ridiculous and pitiful, he picks up the plate, walks slowly to the bin, and drops the entire lot of pasta, and plate, into the trash. After a moment's hesitation he picks up the recipe book and does the same. Setting down his glass of water he ties up the trash bag and takes it outside to the dumpster, then comes back and lines the bin with a fresh bag, so that in the morning there's a chance he won't remember this happening.

He curls up in his bed again, still smelling crushed basil and trying to get to sleep. Elijah leaps up beside his head.

"Elijah, out." He shoves at its warm body but it coils closer, purring.

A thought strikes him and makes him laugh without knowing why.

Elijah.

He'd named the cat after Elijah, of ‘Elijah’s Gate’ three years ago and he'd only just realised.

There’s no point in trying to sleep after that.

Evelyn accosts him the next day. It's not the ideal moment, because thanks to his subconscious he's lost a lot of sleep to thoughts of Jude, too much sleep in fact, to be of much use at work.

He hadn't been able to help it, first the dream, then the meal, and the realisation that he'd named his cat after a figure from the book they'd read together; it had affected him greatly. So much so that he'd mentally trawled his possessions as he lay in bed, wondering what else had slipped by without his notice, what other parts of Jude had he clung onto and insinuated into his life?

He was still pondering it as he attempted to make instant coffee in the break room. So far his list amounted to; the classic rock station he had tuned his radio to, the episodes of E.R. he watches blearily in the evenings (reminding him as they do of Jude's terrible taste in medi-dramas), a stack of Stephen King novels which he now realises he bought because he thought they'd interest Jude, and the box of pop tarts in his cupboard, which reminds him of the first meal Jude made for him.

Though he likes the rock music, television shows and books themselves, he can see how they are rooted in Jude. Therefore, they have to be disposed of, for the sake of his own sanity.

"Thinking pretty deep there Seb, it's just coffee." Evelyn chides from the doorway, dark velvet tunic barely encompassing the fullness of her chest. He ducks his head over the mug, adding creamer and stirring vigorously in the hopes that she will leave quickly.

"If I didn't know better I'd say you'd been avoiding me all week." She murmurs instead, prowling closer and laying a hand on his shoulder. "Did you miss me Seb? All alone in the back of the stacks?" Her voice is breathy and she smells of strawberry gum and cigarettes.

"I've been busy with periodicals." He says offhandedly, trying to ignore how close she's gotten. "How have you been?"

"Oh, bored, so bored without you. Carrie just doesn't cut it conversationally." She smiles, wet pink lips spread wide over her white teeth. "We should catch up."

"That would be nice." Sebastian mutters noncommittally as he reaches for the sugar, feeling sorry for Carrie, their rabbit-like head of staff. "But I actually have to get back..."

"I was thinking...dinner?" Evelyn cuts in smoothly. "Maybe my place? I do great eggplant parmesan..."

"That would be nice." Sebastian smiles, mentally working out what to say to alleviate the unwanted tension. "I don't have many friends here."

"Well...I was planning on being more than friendly." She rubs her fingers into his shoulder.

"Evelyn...I'm actually...I'm flattered but I..." He falters.

"Is it the priest thing? Because Carrie told me about that and...well, I can be...delicate." she purrs.

"I'm actually still celibate." Sebastian moves back, hands folded apologetically. "It's more of a...choice now, but I intend to hold to it."

"And I can't persuade you otherwise...Father?" she presses closer and his old title used in such a way, redolent with desire, reminds him strongly of Jude.

"No. I'm..." he sighs, "Evelyn I'm sure you can get any man you want, and they would be lucky to have you...but I don't date women, and I've never entertained the idea of doing so, even since I left the priesthood."

Her sloe dark eyes cross his face carefully as she turns his words over.

"Are you...you said 'women'..." She says slowly.

Sebastian bristles minutely.

"Evelyn."

"Women, like...you've never, been interested? Ever...?”

He can't speak, can't derail this.

"Sebastian, are you gay?" Her smile is incredulous, failing as he makes no move to deny it.

He freezes.

"You're gay?" Evelyn says loudly, as her face pinches with disgust. "But you were a...oh my God, is that why you're here? Did they kick you out?"

"I left of my own volition." He says stiffly.

"Good...good, because...people like you? Shouldn't be in that kind of position...not when people are counting on you to be moral and...normal." she backs away uncertainly and opens the break room door. "You're not who I thought you were Sebastian."

Sebastian is left with his cooling coffee and sick feeling of having been found out, even though his worst defect is still hidden.

What would Evelyn think if she knew about Jude? Seventeen year old, confused Jude?

Sebastian cradles his coffee in one hand, fumbling the change in his pocket with the other, he has time to call Father Franklyn from the office pay phone and schedule a private meeting that evening.

Three years is a long time to hold back a sin in confession. But no longer.

He avoids Evelyn all day, skulking like a criminal through the back aisles of the library in the hopes of avoiding anyone she might have told about him, which by then had to be most of the staff and even casual visitors to the library. It was a small town and in the last three years he had been one of only two new arrivals to the place. Gossip travelled fast and this was groundbreaking, perversion and morality warring in one of the most potent scandals the place had ever experienced.

Sebastian had grows more nervous and more paranoid with every hour, until finally he's a wreck of self loathing and humiliation, greater even than the week proceeding his flight from his last home and from Jude.

Thankfully, Father Franklyn is already in the church when he gets there after work. Sebastian walks slowly through the pews and greets him calmly, but his heart is hammering.

"Sebastian, you sounded terrible on the phone...what happened?" Franklyn holds his shoulders and looks him in the eye.

"I need to confess." He can't get the dead tone out of his voice.

Franklyn sighs.

"Sebastian, we've been doing this for three years, if you can't bring yourself to tell me the full extent of..."

"I can." Sebastian takes a deep breath. "I...I haven't told you that, before I came here, I sinned. I gave myself over to my...sickness, and with a boy from my church." He throws the words out, feeling them trip over each other in their rush; he can't wait for the confessional booth, which reminds him so much of everything he betrayed. He can't stop the words from coming out, finally, now they have the chance. "He was struggling with this, with feeling like this and I...I wanted him so much, and he wanted me, more than any other boy or...he just wanted me, so I..." He shakes his head as the flow of words dries up.

"How old was he?" Franklyn asks, his voice keenly level, but his eyes betraying his distress. "Sebastian, tell me the boy's age."

"He was seventeen. Eighteen when..." He can’t continue.

Franklyn visibly relaxes, only a little, but enough.

"And you had intercourse with him?" he asks gently.

Sebastian nods shamefacedly. "I let him...I..." The words choke him and he can't find ways to express how it was Jude who took him, but that it was he who was at fault in this. Never Jude.

Franklyn wraps his arms around his shoulders and holds him as Sebastian shakes and struggles with himself.

"Oh Sebastian..."

Tears well up and burn down his face, and he finds that the priest's woe and speechlessness hurt him more than recriminations and disgust. He cannot bear to be this thing, pitied and reviled in equal measure, he cannot stand to be allowed even this small reprieve. He is a monster, and three years of denial and secrecy have only protected him from the world's eyes.

"Sebastian." Father Franklyn steps away from him and guides him to a hard wooden pew to sit, sliding in beside him. "Tell me how it started." He says gently.

Sebastian breathes carefully, controlling himself until he can be sure the words will come out without a sob, that they will come out at all.

"He confessed to me." He folds his fingers over his knees. "I offered him help, but he told me that...he confessed a desire for me, and I should have turned him away, towards someone else...but I didn't." He exhales shakily. "He said it had to be me, that he needed me...I so wanted to be needed, and I thought I was strong enough not to think of him, like that."

Father Franklyn waits patiently.

"We began to meet outside of service, in my office. I told him my own methods for controlling the impulse, and it seemed to work for him..."

"What happened then?" Father Franklyn asks softly.

"I had an accident." Sebastian murmurs, tonelessly. "I used to take ice baths to stop myself from...well, to stave off desire, and he had been having such an effect on my that I'd stopped eating...trying to make myself spiritually strong. But I lost consciousness in the bath...I think I might have drowned if he had not sought me out...he saved me." A small smile curves Sebastian's lips, almost instantly quashed. "He tried to take care of me." He mutters thoughtfully.

"Did he?"

Sebastian nods. "He brought me food and he made sure I took care of myself. After a while he started to show me his music, films I'd missed growing up the way I did...I used to read to him."

"And how long did this go on for?" Father Franklyn asks, wondering how and why Sebastian managed to sustain such a relationship.

"Months...I found him to be good company. I enjoyed his presence more than I should...and when he asked me if he could stay with me...sleep in my bed that night, I said yes." His voice has gone very quiet. "He slept next to me and nothing happened, we were so careful."

"When did you become physical with him, Sebastian?” Father Franklyn asks gently.

"He told me he trusted me...that we could share the same space without worrying that one of us would slip." His brow furrows. "He undressed for me."

Franklyn watches the other man struggle with the memory that clearly brings him incredible happiness, and the knowledge that it had ruined him thereafter.

"He was so careful with me." Sebastian practically whispers, seemingly unaware or uncaring of Father Franklyn's presence, his office and station. He has never spoken of this out loud before and his chest is painfully tight, like he will never be able to get it all out, this feeling, these memories, as if there aren't enough words for the suffering and joy of it.

"So gentle and...and I let him be with me...I'd never been with anyone." His fingers clench and he shakes his head. "I wanted him so much...and it was my fault, my fault that I let him in, I let him take me and then...and then he was a sinner, just like me."

The next thing he becomes aware of, in the swimming cold nausea that fills him in the wake of his confession, is the weight of Franklyn's arm around his shoulders.

"He forgives you, you know."

Sebastian closes his eyes.

"God forgives you, if you need it. If you deserve it...and you never meant to slight him."

Sebastian shakes his head.

"It's forgiven. Now let it go." Franklyn insists gently. "You can let it go."

Father Franklyn hears the doors of the atrium open, footsteps as two men appear in the shadow of the main door. He'd forgotten his meeting with Matthew, and the boy’s friend, apparently in definite need of help. He squeezes the shoulder of the man next to him, who is still shaking with overwrought emotion.

"Sebastian...I have a visitor to speak with."

"Forgive me for overstaying...I'll go." Sebastian straightens weakly. "Thank you Father..."

"Actually, it might benefit you to stay, the two of you appear to be suffering in much the same way, perhaps meeting will help you to progress..." he sighs. "Also...you taught this boy, the one from your old parish, a very harsh doctrine, and one which has tortured you, and probably him for quite some time – think of this as a way to make it right. You can help me to end someone's suffering."

Sebastian seems to think on it, mind filling with all the ways in which this conflicts with what he has always believed to be true. But perhaps, perhaps he can grow to accept this part of himself, to realise that it is not an entirely evil thing, and maybe that will help him to control it, to hold it back from the surface by embracing it, not fighting it.

He nods. "I believe that would be the right thing to do."

Father Franklyn stands, gesturing towards the front of the church. "Excellent, then I will find Matthew and his guest and we can talk."

Sebastian stands and walks meekly at the priest's side as they cross the cool floor of the church. A blond boy meets them halfway, cutting through the pews as he approaches from the vestry.

"Father!" he shakes Franklyn's hand and grins at him before turning uncertainly to Sebastian. "I was looking for...I'm sorry, did I...?"

"This is Sebastian, he'll be joining us this evening." Franklyn says firmly, but warmly. Matthew smiles at Sebastian then, bright and untroubled.

"Great, it might make things easier if it's not just me, Jude's kind of...uncomfortable with me right now."

He hears the name and the world goes still. Surely it cannot happen like this, not now, not here of all places.

Franklyn realises that Sebastian is no longer walking with him, and turns to look at him.

"Sebastian? What's wrong?"

Sebastian shakes his head dumbly, frozen to the spot.

Father Franklyn raises a hand to touch his arm, but Sebastian backs away like a spooked deer.
The voice is quiet, but Father Franklyn still turns towards it, seeing clearly for the first time, the boy standing by the door.

"Seb...?"

Chapter Eleven

Jude has grown.

Through the paralysing fear and joy and awfulness of the moment, that's the first thing he notices. Jude, now nearly twenty-one by his reckoning, has filled out since his late teens, the last time Sebastian had seen him. Now he's over a foot taller, wider in the shoulders and thicker in his limbs. Stronger, larger and yet still so similar to the sad, sunken eyed teenager who'd come to him on his final day at home.

"Jude." It's an acknowledgement, a greeting, an apology for being here.

In the resounding silence he could swear he hears Jude’s breath catch.

They're all frozen in place, Father Franklyn and his parishioner between himself and the man Jude has become. He can see Father Franklyn fitting it together, watching the tumblers fall into place as their secret is unlocked and broken open. The stranger, the boy who must be Jude's friend? His lover? What has the intervening time made of him? Looks between them, frowning, slower than Franklyn, not knowing Sebastian's side of it, but guessing all the same.

"Jude?" the sandy haired boy turns to his friend, the first to move. Wanting an explanation, a denial of something he does not yet fully comprehend.

Jude shakes his head, still staring right at Sebastian, eyes linking across the space between and refusing to let go. Sebastian can't quantify the needs in him, he wants to run, towards and away from Jude, to touch him, to hold him, to walk away from him and never think of him again, to take him back to his own tiny apartment, wrap him in his own quilt and never leave his side.

He wants Jude. The words that go in between those three simple ones change from minute to minute, second to second. But he wants, always.

"Sebastian...what would you like to do?" Father Franklyn asks, quietly.

Sebastian looks at him without any idea what he wants, and Father Franklyn reads it in his eyes.

"I meant what I said, you can make this right." Franklyn touches his shoulder gently. "If you'd like me to give you two some privacy..."

"Wait." The blond boy holds up a hand, barring their way, and Jude is still frozen mere paces away down the aisle, like the groom in a demented wedding ceremony. "What's going on?" He turns to the priest. "Father?"

"Matthew...I think this is something they need to discuss in private." Franklyn says gently. "Perhaps you and I should let them speak?"

Matthew rounds on Jude.

"Jude? Who is this?" he asks, and Jude looks so pained, caught out and shocked from himself, that Sebastian can barely stand the rising of the defensive impulse within him.

"Jude?" Matthew demands.

***

Jude can't answer, all this words are drying at the back of his throat. He'd recognised Sebastian as he'd drawn closer, but now that he can see him clearly it's like a vice has clenched in his chest, he can't move, can't speak. Because it's Sebastian. Sebastian who he had hurt, who he had lost and pined for.

Sebastian who he was never going to see again; standing right in front of him.

He doesn't know what to do, or what Sebastian wants him to do. Does he want Jude to go? To stay or to run or to lie for him? Once again he is seventeen, young and stupid and in need of guidance from the older man, directions on how they should proceed.

Then there's Matthew, demanding answers he cannot give without endangering Sebastian, without smearing his own name.

It's in that confusion that he finds the one word he needs.

"Sebastian?" It comes out as a question, begging for help, for a sign as to what they should do to extricate themselves from this tangled mess.

The older man turns towards the stranger, the priest.

"Take him to my office." Franklyn says gently, and pushes Sebastian slightly towards where Jude is waiting. Sebastian walks towards him and each footfall is painful with suspense, what should he do when he reaches him? When they get to the office and are alone?

He walks stiffly beside Sebastian as he crosses the church towards the priest's office, eyes on the flagged floor, shoe scuffs loud in the loaded silence. He's so close he could take Seb’s hand if he wanted to, or touch Sebastian's arm, his face and neck. He doesn't, and the compulsion nearly breaks Jude there. Three years of being too far to touch, and now he can see what he has missed and he needs it back more than ever.

Sebastian holds the door for Jude and then closes it behind them, shutting out the cavernous church and enclosing them in silence, in privacy. They stand awkwardly, facing each other, and Jude notices the small lines that crinkle the corners of Sebastian's eyes, and the edges of his mouth. He's only thirty three, but the few years they've been apart have still wrought change in him.

Jude swallows the wave of misery that causes him.

"I don't know what to say." Sebastian says softly, his voice cracking a little and betraying him.

"Me neither." Jude fiddles with his cuffs, fingers rubbing the fabric. "I didn't think I'd see you again."

"Well, I didn't plan on this." Sebastian murmurs sadly. "I didn't know that...that any of this would happen." He shakes his head. "I never planned you."

Jude looks up at him then and reads the tension in Sebastian's frame. He hates it, that they are strangers now, who have wronged each other and left each other, forced together by coincidence. That he can't help to ease the obvious pain in Sebastian’s face. Unless of course, Sebastian allows him to.

"Can I..." Jude stops, fingers clenching and unclenching nervously.

"What?" The older man murmurs.

Sebastian's breath is knocked from him as Jude grasps him tightly, arms going around Sebastian as they had many times before, finding the places where they once rested so easily, now with the bulk and strength of age to shelter the smaller man within. Sebastian stiffens, his entire body jerking at the unexpected assault, and then he grasps Jude back and sobs a quiet sigh against the younger man’s throat, where his face is buried. Jude inhales the scent of Sebastian’s skin, unchanged from their last day together.

"I missed you." Jude manages, adolescent anguish and the gut wrenching gear change of the evening finally catching up to him. Sebastian just nods fervently against his collar bone, unable to answer in any other way. Jude knots his fingers in Sebastian's hair and strokes, alternately pulling and soothing as he had once done, book in one hand and the other man's head in his lap.

"I don't even..." Jude stops trying to speak, blocks out the knowledge that he will have to release Sebastian and watch him leave for a second time, the knowledge that everything and yet nothing, has changed since that first day of separation.

He holds onto him and lets Sebastian's tears soak his shirt collar, clinging to the smaller man and wishing he was young enough to believe that Sebastian could protect him from the pain he knows is coming.

Sebastian eventually pulls away enough to cup Jude's face carefully, smiling with an edge of sadness.

"You've grown."

"Not much." Jude rubs against the warm palm pressed to his cheek.

"You're taller than me now." Sebastian murmurs, and Jude can feel his breath on his face, feel the tightening in his stomach that heralds both nerves and misery and need. Sebastian senses the slight movement as Jude leans forward, and he pushes him away a little, holding him at a distance.

"Don't tell me I can't." Jude murmurs fiercely.

"We shouldn't..." Sebastian's every movement is regretful, as he begins to move away, eyes downcast protectively.

Jude bring him back to him and presses their mouths together, hesitantly at first, bottom lip catching underneath Sebastian's as he draws it gently into his mouth. But when Sebastian doesn't reject the sudden kiss Jude deepens it, pulling away a little to brush their lips gently together, tongue touching Sebastian's tentatively, his stomach set with tension. Sebastian tastes the way he remembers, only more of himself somehow, and Jude closes his eyes to the torturous, half remembered sensation, feeling it in the present instead.

Sebastian parts his lips with a small sound, pleading and lost, feeling Jude's hands brushing his face, holding him firm as his own hands drop to Jude's waist. For a long moment all Jude can feel is the soaring of his stomach, the soft touch of Sebastian's lips on his and the hesitant brush of their tongues, never quite meeting for more than a second. They both revel in the half forgotten details of this, the way the other tastes and smells and feels beneath their lips.

Sebastian nuzzles his nose against Jude's, lips parting to murmur. "Matthew..."

"He's no one...no one I promise..." Jude pulls him back into the kiss with the desperate need to make it true, to erase Matthew from his history and have only this. Then and now.

Sebastian lets him.

A soft cough breaks them apart, Sebastian looks down, hands moving quickly from Jude's waist to wring each other in front of him. Jude wets his lips nervously, looking up as Father Franklyn closes the door.

"I gather you'd like some time alone...but I think this has gone on quite long enough." Franklyn says gently, rounding the desk and gesturing that they should take a seat.

Sebastian sits slowly. "Father, I apologise...I know better than to allow this to happen...here of all places." He looks at Jude, taking the sight of his bowed head as the other man tries to make his bold frame inconspicuous. Sebastian rests his fingers lightly on the arm of Jude's chair.

"Three years is just, a very long time." Sebastian whispers, and when Jude looks at him, happiness and hope evident in his features, Sebastian feels his heart thump lazily, remembering all the nights they'd been so close, wishing that they could have that time again.

"Sebastian, I have no intention of punishing you. You are already quite adept at that." Franklyn says softly. "But I feel that you have done Jude a great disservice...you've damaged him, although quite unintentionally. I believe you truly did mean to save him...but it seems you have failed."

Sebastian feels the dread of hell, never far from him, well up in his chest.

Jude shakes his head disbelievingly.

"He did. He did save me." He insists. "Sebastian tell him...you...you left!" his voice cracks "You said it could never happen again, that we...that we couldn't be together because of what it meant for us...He saved me." He glowers at Franklyn. "Don't you dare say he didn't."

"Jude." Sebastian admonishes gently. "I was at fault with you..."

"Don't" Jude snaps. "Just...I wasn't a kid, I knew exactly what I wanted and I wasn't strong enough to stop myself from taking it..." he turns desperately to Franklyn.”It wasn't his fault, Father please don't..."

"Calm yourself." Franklyn advises. "What I mean is that..." he sighs.”Not all priests feel as Sebastian does, that homosexuality is a passport to damnation. I think that Sebastian's upbringing, one of the strictest I've heard of, may have...warped, his perception of our faith. I understand how that must make this very difficult for you." He reaches a hand to where Sebastian's is resting on the desk, only to have the other man draw it back a little, disbelievingly.

"Do not tell me it is all my invention." Sebastian murmurs stonily. "It is God's word Father, how can you..."

"It is God's word, filtered through prophets and translation and additions and subtractions by the clergy of a hundred different times and places, none of whom were infallible." Franklyn insists. "Yes, there are books that seem to forbids this...relationship that you two have developed, but so much of what is preached comes from love and the devotion to God that we strive for...to obsess so blindly over this one flaw is a sin in itself."

Jude shakes his head mutely and Father Franklyn turns to him.

"Sebastian has wronged you, only in that he tried to save you with this...doctrine, so firmly instilled in him. I do not doubt that his motives were good but to criminalise your every thought as he has his own, since adolescence? It is not healthy, and it is not what God would want, not the God that I believe in anyway."

"Don't tell me that it's right." Jude grits out. "What do you know about it? How it feels to want...to need so much and know that it’s...evil?" He sucks in a harsh breath. "You don't know! You don't know what it is that God wants for us, and you want us to damn ourselves on a...rose tinted theory of God's love?"

Father Franklyn looks at him, long and hard, until Jude's sudden anguish has burnt itself into shame and silence.

"Do you know what sin is, Jude?" He asks finally.

"An act against God." Jude answers immediately. "Wilful disobedience."

"And you would agree Sebastian?"

Sebastian nods grimly.

"The concept of the seven deadly sins, is that they are the extremes of human behaviour, which divert you from God." Franklyn says slowly. "Sloth is shirking your righteous duties, Greed is valuing possessions above God's love...and Lust is the pursuit of gratification over that love – it's a distraction from your true purpose, a folly...and it is also not what you have committed." He tucks his hands together on the surface of the desk and marshals his thoughts, here he is arguing for the happiness, the sanity of two wounded men, he knows how important what he says will be. "You remained devoted to God, even as you found and loved each other...and as far as I can see, Jude, in surrendering Sebastian you have begun to doubt God...you have turned your back on him."

Jude wraps his arms around himself and refuses to meet Sebastian's eye as the man turns to him.

"And Sebastian..." Franklyn continues. "You believe that God has abandoned you, that he no longer loves you because of what you have done."

"Could you?" Sebastian asks. "Could you believe that God loves you, after the sins I've willingly committed?"

Franklyn watches his friends face twist in pain.

"He loves you, as he loves all things." He says gently. "I don't believe, many people, don't believe, that God cares who, or how we love...as long as we love him, and as long as we are pure in our love for each other, not ridden by lust...then he cannot find our emotions objectionable...or our choices blasphemous."

When Franklyn stops speaking there is only silence for endless seconds.

"That's not true." Jude says after a while. "It can't be..."

"Why?" Franklyn challenges, simply.

"Because..." Jude shakes his head, shoulders shaking with suppressed shudders of misery. "If it is...I've wasted so much time...I've wasted us..." he touches Sebastian's hand blindly. “On nothing...on a lie."

Sebastian grips Jude’s fingers in return and closes his eyes against the tears that are gathering. All his life he has followed what he believed to be the right path. Hard as it was, painful as it became, almost unbearable...it had been the right thing to do.

Now he was forgiven the sins that existed only to him, now he knew that he had never been wrong, sick, evil, but that he had left Jude for nothing, three years of loneliness and torment over the wrong he had done him, the wrong folly to hate himself for. He should have damned his pride for making him believe that he had followed a righteous path all his life, and that it was this path, and only this path, that could save Jude from sin.

He had failed Jude, not by wanting him and taking pleasure in him, but by making him a copy of himself, and instilling him with tenets and values like shards of glass, to turn and slice and torture at the slightest movement, as they had tormented him.

"I think both of you need to talk about this...I cannot begin to know of your relationship, but the feeling behind it? Is not a sickness as far as I can see...if you reason even after this that you should part again...well then that will be your decision, but you cannot make such a decision based on fear of Hell and confliction desire. So think on it." Franklyn sighs. "You may also need to address Matthew on the matter...I know that you two are friends, and I believe he is concerned for you given Sebastian's presence here, which I felt it was not my place to explain...also..." Franklyn seems uncomfortable. "Given Sebastian's age...which is considerably more than your own, Jude...you may need to think seriously as to whether to continue this relationship...and if you do...how you will present it to the world at large."

Jude nods, still lost in the revelations the priest has brought, still clutching Sebastian's hand like a life line and feeling the lasting pressure of his lips on his own from less than an hour before.

"Thank you Father." He manages.

"Thank you Father Franklyn." Sebastian echoes. His soft fingers warm in the grip of Jude's palm.

They leave Franklyn's office together, no longer touching as they find themselves back in the main body of the church. Matthew is sitting in a pew close by, eyes closed and face bowed as if in prayer. Sebastian pauses nervously when he sees him, and Jude bumps their hands together gently, feeling even that slight contact catch at his heart and make it ache.

Sebastian threads their fingers together uncertainly, looking at them with a kind of fierce concentration.

"Don't leave me." Jude murmurs in the stillness of the church, gripping Sebastian's hand as he half orders, half begs him to stay. Sebastian bows his head and leans slowly closer to him, resting his forehead against Jude's shoulder. Jude strokes a hand down Sebastian's back.

"Never." Sebastian promises, and the ache in Jude's chest grows to a roar of protective need and possessive gratitude at that one word. Fragile as they are, they are here. Together. Whatever it takes to preserve that, to work it out, he will do it without question.

Matthew opens his eyes, and even in the gloom of the church, with Sebastian's soft dark hair obscuring part of his vision, Jude can see the confusion and pain in his friend’s eyes. Matthew, almost his lover and now just a friend who wanted to him to be happy, looks somehow curious and appalled, unable to understand the two men before him, the way in which Jude clings to Sebastian like a rock in a storm.

"Jude..." Matthew stands and takes a step forwards, before pausing as Sebastian moves away from Jude to look at the source of the sound. "Jude...tell me what's happening here." He asks quietly.

"Matthew...this is Sebastian." He touches Sebastian's arm softly. "He's...he's the reason for all this..." he gestures meaninglessly around them.”He's...my first...I mean the only...the only person I've been with..." he winces because in many ways he has been with Matthew also, but that is different and he cannot pretend that it isn't. "I've been in love with him since I was seventeen." He swallows. "I'm sorry...I couldn't tell you, it was supposed to be a secret and I couldn't..." he looks at Sebastian, lost for words.

"Jude did me a great favour by keeping my secret." Sebastian says quietly. "I don't know what would have happened to me otherwise."

"You'd be in jail." Matthew says, voice blank of empathy. "You should be." He adds.

"Matthew..." Jude steps towards him. Matthew waves him off.

"Seventeen? You were seventeen and you!" he turns on Sebastian. "You were what? Thirty? Thirty five?" He shakes his head in disgust. "How could you? He was a kid..." he looks at Jude. "You're still a kid compared to him, and he..." He clenches his fists. "He touched you? You two..." he rounds on Sebastian again, "Did you feel Aaron up too? Make it a big family secret?"

Jude strikes him before he has time to think and Matthew is thrown back against the pew, nose dripping blood over his shirt. Sebastian seizes Jude’s arm.

"Jude!" he pulls him back from Matthew and cradles an arm around his waist in restraint, his breath tickling Jude's ear as he whispers urgently. "Let it go." Jude remains tense, everything urging him to fall on Matthew and beat him.

"Jude...please." Seb begs.

He relaxes into Sebastian's hold, feeling the man guide him back a little before Sebastian ducks over Matthew and extends a hand to pull him to his feet. Matthew struggles up, swiping Sebastian's hand away with disgust.

"Don't." He practically snarls. "Don't, touch me...whatever you did to Jude...was fucked, you are..." he shakes his head, hand going to his bloodied nose as he backs towards the doors.”You're fucked. It doesn't matter how you made Jude believe this...this fantasy, you're damned for this; For. Touching. A. Kid." He hisses.

"Do. Not. Curse. In. My. Church. Matthew." Father Franklyn bites out from behind them, and Jude half turns to look at the small man, back stiff with anger, he eyes no longer kindly but steely beneath their glasses. "And do not presume to judge those who you brought here for my help."

"I didn't bring him." Matthew snarls. "How can you defend this? This poisonous...he was a child, Father, how can you condone his actions?"

"I do not condone what you speak of...but I recognise it when I see it, as you clearly do not." Father Franklyn lowers his eyes sadly. "Matthew, I think you should leave and gain control of yourself...give yourself time to get over the shock of it."

Matthew looks at them, face pinched and irate, before storming out of the church.

Jude turns to Sebastian.

"It's not true...you know that, please don't..."

Sebastian touches his face, fingers tracing Jude's cheekbone.

"I know." Sebastian looks surprised by his own words. "I know it's not."

He kisses him and Jude laces a hand into Sebastian's hair, holding him close. Franklyn blinks at the suddenness of it and turns to go back to his office, feeling a need to give them privacy.

Jude breaks from Sebastian's mouth and brushes his hand down the other man's throat.

"Let me stay with you tonight."

Sebastian's eyes widen almost imperceptibly.

Jude raises his hands.

"Nothing like..." he sighs.”I was just, supposed to stay with Matthew and...ok so that's not happening...and I'd like to stay with you...I always wanted to stay with you."

Sebastian draws him into his arms again, and Jude takes his silent embrace as a 'yes'.

He drives them both in his car to Sebastian's apartment in silence, Sebastian sitting in the passenger seat where Matthew had been only hours before. Jude's a little blown away by the idea that this is Sebastian, Sebastian who he’d never thought he would see again, in the front seat of his car.

When he last saw Seb he hadn't been allowed to drive, let alone own a car.

Sebastian turns to him at a red light, arms folded in his lap.

"This is weird isn't it?" He says.

"Kinda" Jude admits. "Seems like twenty minutes ago I was a kid, and now I'm not...and you're a regular person with an apartment and a job...and I have a car and an assignment to do tomorrow..."

"Almost like we're normal?" Sebastian smiles slightly.

"Yeah...what's up with that?" Jude smirks, feeling some of the awkwardness evaporate.

"It does seem a little...strange." Sebastian frowns at the windshield. "To be allowed to do this, to have this time...hours ago I wouldn't have thought it possible...I wouldn't have dared hope for it."

Jude pulls away again as the lights change, driving down Main Street towards Sebastian's apartment.

"I know what you mean." He taps the steering wheel contemplatively. "When Matthew told me to come here...I figured it'd be some circle of trust crap, lots of people telling me it's 'ok to be gay'...this is...beyond better." He shakes his head. "I can't believe you're really here."

"Me either." Sebastian smiles shyly, head lowered, and Jude remembers that smile, the way Sebastian half laughed over something he'd said once about the picture of Margaret Atwood on the back cover of one of her books.

Jude pulls up at another set of lights.

"Seriously, what's with all the traffic control? I am one car." He grumbles.

"It's a safe neighbourhood." Sebastian says with another slight smile. "They just..."

Jude catches the side of his face, turning him towards him and kissing him. It's beyond a light brush of reacquainted lips, deepening with a slide of Jude's tongue and a quiet groan from the man seated beside him. Sebastian's hand pulls at Jude's hair urgently, sliding down to his neck and pulling him closer. Their lips part with tacky moisture and Jude feels Sebastian's quiet 'Oh' as an exhalation against his mouth.

Sebastian's eyes rise slowly from Jude's parted lips.

"The Light’s changed."

Jude twists in his seat and hits the accelerator, finds the right lot for Sebastian's building and starts prowling the aisles looking for a space. His hand strays to Sebastian's knee, squeezing the firm flesh beneath the black fabric, rubbing the joint idly. Sebastian's breath comes in a soft hitch, his fingers running from Jude's hand to his shoulder, index finger reaching to stroke his cheek.

"What are we doing...here?" Seb asks quietly.

"You live here." Jude tries for humour but fails miserably.

"Jude..." Sebastian tips his head, face marred with uncertainty. "I...I don't know what we're doing."

Jude pulls into a space sharply and pulls the key out of the ignition. He reluctantly removes his hand from Sebastian's body, reaching to remove Sebastian's hand from his shoulder, holding it as he considers.

"I didn’t mean to start this...I mean...three years and all that stuff..." He shakes his head. "I'm still bad at this talk...but we don't have to do anything that...that we're not ready for...just because of what Father Franklyn said."

“I still don’t know if it changes anything.” Sebastian murmurs.

“It does for me.” Jude insists. “Seb...I’m not going to live the rest of my life alone if I don’t have to...and I’ve never wanted anyone but you.” Jude swallows. "Are we going inside?" He catches the uncertain look in Sebastian's eyes. "For dinner Seb...maybe some sleep..."

Sebastian nods. Jude shunts the car door open and slides out. Sebastian follows and they stand uncertainly beside the vehicle, skin prickling with residual heat in the night air. Sebastian takes Jude's hand and leads him towards his apartment.

Once inside it begins to feel as if no time has passed for them. Yet the knowledge that it has in fact been three years, brings them both up short periodically as Sebastian watches Jude unwrap and cook a frozen pizza. They settle into his couch and divide the food, Elijah prowling around Jude's legs in search of titbits.

"You have a cat?" Jude chucks Elijah under the chin, rubbing the cat's back and ears until Elijah abandons any semblance of propriety and jumps up into his lap.

"Elijah." He says, partly in explanation, partly as a rebuke. "He moved in when I did."

Sebastian strokes the animal affectionately.

"So...this is where the talk needs to happen." Jude sighs, trailing a hand over Elijah's fur.

Sebastian folds up on himself on his side of the couch, it's a new habit that he's picked up. One that Jude finds odd in such a mature man.

"If you wish it." He curls his long fingers around his ankles and thinks for a moment. "You and Matthew were lovers." He says sadly, his heart cracking a little with it.

Jude glances at the floor. “More or less.”

"Why, after everything we...why would you touch someone else?" asks Sebastian in a small voice.

"Because... it didn't matter...I thought maybe God wasn't really watching, that he didn't care..." Jude hunkers down in his seat, Elijah escaping from his lap to nuzzle Sebastian's hand. "I never wanted him as much as I wanted you...it wasn't worth...anything near what we had, and I could never...I was never with him, not the way we were." Jude shakes his head. "I wish I'd never let you leave." He murmurs. "I wish I'd never gone to college, I wish I'd never met Matthew and that...that I'd spent these three years with you..."

"I don't know what I'd wish." Sebastian says softly. "Or how it would matter."

A terrible thing occurs to Jude, something that he'd lost somewhere in between Father Franklyn's intervention and Sebastian's lips on his own.

"Seb...you're not...I mean, after tonight, I'll still see you, right? We can...we can have that now, you and me, together?"

"And how would that work?" Sebastian says sadly. "I'm sorry, for...I'm sorry that I kissed you. It was wrong to let that happen after so long and then to...Jude we can't be together, not then and not now."

Something new and tight in Jude’s chest dies suddenly at that.

"Seb...please..."

"No I...I wanted to see you, I want you to stay but...beyond tonight..." He shakes his head. "Can you imagine the pain this would cause you? Matthew, Aaron, your parents...they would all look on you as damaged...and me as despicable and appalling...we could never be happy like that." He touches Jude's hand lightly. "I may have been wrong to criminalise this, to harrow both of us with it...but I will not now lose all my reasoning, I cannot see how we will bring anything but shame and hurt on our own heads."

Jude stares at him, welling with a kind of despair he hasn't felt since he was seventeen and watching Sebastian drive away for good. For their own good. For good.

"We...we have tonight." He drags it from Sebastian's tortured words like a life line from the ruin of a ship.

"Jude...?" part question, part warning as Sebastian looks into his face, his own mirroring its pain.

Jude ducks across the small space between them, hauling Sebastian to him and bringing their mouths together, hard. Sebastian pushes at his shoulders, knowing this is a bad idea, that they will wreck themselves and drown if they stir this up again. But the nudges of his palms against Jude's broad shoulders become weaker as Jude thrusts their tongues together and presses Sebastian's hips down with his own. In the end the older man pulls him closer, mouth opening weakly to the surge of Jude's efforts, catching the wrenched whines and then the deeper groans he makes as they enfold each other.

It is nothing like what occurred in the car, not the relearning and sampling of each other that felt endless, that wanted but did not take. It is not the passive breaking of their first and only night of loving, where both of them were lost to it and allowing the walls to come down, unable to continue with the struggle of holding them up. This has force on both their sides, determined touches and small sounds that are not covered by shamefully clenched teeth.

When Jude pulls Sebastian to his feet and propels them both into the bedroom, they shed their clothes on the way, uncovering each other's skin and touching it, tasting it with the knowledge that they have a span of time now, and only now, to do so.

When they fall to the bed, Jude turns them and moves so that he is lying down, Seb over. Jude’s hands are on Sebastian's back, the older man with one knee falling between Jude's naked thighs; for they are both naked. Sebastian is surprised by their position, looking askance at Jude as he strokes the younger man’s chest.

"I've waited...since I was seventeen." Jude murmurs, his voice thick. "I want you." His hands brush down the flat of Sebastian's abdomen, reaching between his legs. Sebastian stutters a rough sound and presses into the contact, leaning as Jude pulls him in.

"Seb..." Jude's breath hitches. He spreads wider, strong legs drawing up as his arms pull Sebastian's slighter body down on top of him. "I want this...I want..."

Sebastian kisses him, feeling the softer parts of Jude beneath his body, hot and growing damp and slick in different places. There is nothing still about them, both moving restlessly, trying to bring themselves together, bodies working blindly as 'Jude' and 'Sebastian' evaporate into sweat and damp exhalations.

Nothing prepares Sebastian for the slow slide into Jude's body. He's felt the opposite side of this before, but still, the drawing, tight, heat of it. The lotion Jude plucked from the dresser and used on himself, spreads between their joined flesh as Jude pushes up to him with a soft groan, tiny flickering clenches of desperation pulling him deeper.

It's maddening and all consuming, and Sebastian loses his way, his mind for a few seconds, coming back to himself only to find himself buried to the hilt in Jude's flesh, his head resting on the younger man's chest as his body shakes, Jude's hand stroking roughly at his sweat dampened hair. Jude's voice breaking as he pleases, "Seb...Seb move...
"

He moves and tries to keep his thighs from shaking, his back from trembling as he closes his eyes and feels Jude move with him. They find a rhythm almost by accident as Jude lifts his hips to Sebastian's suddenly easy slide, a moan claws its way out of Sebastian's throat and Jude leans up, hands grasping the other man's back and bringing them closer.

Through it all, each hot push into Jude and the backlash of pleasure up their spines, Jude stares into Sebastian's eyes and he stares right back, bodies working together, and mouths breathing close, almost touching.

Afterwards, the urgent flame in them having been banked down to tired embers; they lie down on the bed, Sebastian held in the curve of Jude's body. Desolation chases away the warmth in the ex-priest and he closes his eyes. He has had all he will ever have, and he thanks God for that and curses himself for leaving it so late and so long.

Jude's arm wraps his waist tightly.

"We're never going to see each other again...are we?" Jude says after a moment, and Sebastian shakes his head as best he can. Jude kisses the back of his neck and Seb feels his body tighten with desire and misery at the feeling, post-coital bliss edging away and leaving him empty.

"No." Jude rolls him over and glares at him, alight with anger and flushed from sex. "I mean...I'm twenty-one Seb...you don't get to tell me what to do."

"Jude..." Sebastian pleads.

"No." He says again. "I'm not a kid anymore, so this? We decide together, and I know you want me to stay...you can't touch me like that and not want me to stay, I felt it." he touches Sebastian's side possessively. "So I'll stay...and everyone else? Everything else will be as bad as it wants...I'm sick of second guessing everything, us, God, myself...you can't force this on me."

Sebastian lies silently for a moment.

"Stay." He finds the miraculous word and uses it. "Stay with me."

Jude kisses his forehead as Seb himself used to do in the darkened hall of the church.

"Not even you, could make me leave." Jude murmurs.

Chapter Twelve

Jude wakes up in the middle of the night, having never been a particularly restful sleeper, this isn't that odd. For a moment he doesn't know where he is, lying in a large bed that smells different to his own home and his college room. He’s warm and vaguely sticky under sheets that feel new and different. The light from between the slats of the blind at the window reveals a room stacked with books and odd shadows cast from a potted plant on the top of a bookcase. Somewhere a cat mewls softly. Wind whimpers at the window.

He has no idea where he is.

Jude jerks upright, feeling his naked body brush against cotton as the sheets slide down. He looks around the darkened room and it takes him a second to notice the dark head of hair on the pillow beside him, the softly rising sheets where another body, slimmer than his own, is covered.

Sebastian blinks up at him, newly awoken and looking more than a little dismayed by Jude's sudden movements and worried, almost panicked expression. Jude remembers then exactly whose bed he's in, where and why. He subsides back onto the mattress, lying closer to Sebastian and laying an arm soothingly around his waist.

"Hey...it's ok." He rubs Sebastian's side as the other man tenses guiltily. "I just got confused for a sec." He mutters, feeling Sebastian's body so near his own, unable to prevent the slight twitch of interest that goes through him. Sebastian shivers a little and presses closer. Jude strokes his hair.

"One day, we're going to sleep together and it won't put that look on your face...that, 'I did something wrong' look." Jude mumbles, feeling Sebastian move closer, until his mouth trails across Jude's collar bone.

"One day." Sebastian mutters, then lets out a soft groan as Jude shifts, rolling on top of him and pressing down lightly, touching and feeling his way in the dark. Sebastian sighs, Jude's hands tracing his ribs and hips in turn as his own hands grasp Jude's back, feeling his shoulder blades under his palms. They kiss shyly, softly in the dark, and Jude's breath hitches in a way that Sebastian knows he will one day be able to call 'delicious'.

"Seb?" Jude finally murmurs, raw throated. "Tomorrow...can you just look happy? Just for me?"

Sebastian rubs his fingers against the dips of Jude's spine.

"I'll be happy." He sighs. "You make me very happy...I just...I need time to work that out, when I wake up."

Jude tips up a little to look him in the face.

"You're happy now?"

Sebastian holds him a little tighter.

"Very."

Everything looks different in the morning. It's something Sebastian's mother used to say, and he knows she meant that problems which arise for us one day can be diminished by distance and time. In this case however, he wakes to realise the enormity of the undertaking he has committed to with Jude. To be a couple, lovers, in the public eye, it's a fearsome trial that awaits them he knows. Trial by fire.

Looking at the sleeping man beside him, he tries to hold onto the fact that it's worth it, whatever happens. In the wake of Father Franklyn's words he censors his thoughts, trying to crush and deny the words sin, hell, damnation, corruption, iniquity, sin as soon as his mind conjures them from whatever hole in his mind such filth and harsh doctrine comes from.

He clears the concern from his eyes when he sees Jude stir. He will look happy. Jude makes him so happy and he should get to witness the warmth that Sebastian feels for him.

Jude is not fooled. He wakes, sits up and looks Sebastian in the eye. He brushes his lips against Seb’s forehead and then leans against his shoulder.

"It'll be ok Seb, I promise."

For Jude's ability to see through him like a sheet of glass, Sebastian is profoundly thankful.

With their naked limbs cleared away under pyjama pants, both sets belonging to Sebastian, they pull together breakfast from his under stocked refrigerator and end up lying back in bed again to eat, despite the messy sheets. He can't bring himself to question it. The idea of sitting far enough from Jude to occupy separate chairs is one that is oddly unthinkable after all this time apart.

"So..." Jude gnaws at a piece of toast, head resting against Sebastian's leg. "I'm going back to college today."

Sebastian runs his fingers over Jude's hair.

"I'm meant to be giving Matthew a ride home from his parents...and I was thinking I'd tell him about us, the whole story."

"Is that wise?" Sebastian asks.

"He'll have to listen at least, can't exactly bail out on the road." He turns a little. "Plus, we'll have to tell people eventually, about how we met." Jude shrugs. "And he's my friend...I think."

Sebastian sighs.

"I realise that we must tell people our story." He dusts crumbs from his fingers. "But Matthew already despises me for being far older than you...the truth about my former calling will only worsen his feelings...and your parents..." He shakes his head. "When your parents discover me for what I am, they will hate me."

"I won't." Jude sits up. "Anyone else...I've moved away from home, I can live without going back."

"That's not what I want for you."

"My decision, remember? I'll tell Matthew, and my parents and Aaron...and I'll try my hardest to make them understand – then it's up to them." Jude thinks for a moment. "Can I see you, next weekend?"

"Of course." Sebastian touches the side of his face. "I'd love for you to come."

Jude smiles slightly.

"For a moment there..." He shakes his head.

"What?" asks Sebastian softly.

"Nothing...you just looked happy." Jude murmurs.

Leaving Sebastian isn’t the hardest thing he’s ever had to do; that dubious honour still belongs to watching Seb drive away from him. But finally, Jude decides that getting up and dressed and kissing Sebastian goodbye in the parking lot under a slate grey sky hurts him to a degree he still wasn’t prepared for.

It only makes Jude certain that he would give up a lot never to have to leave Seb again.

He pulls up outside of Matthew's parent's home and gets out of the car, crunching the gravel path under his boots as he crosses the neat front yard. Matthew’s parents live in a boxy two story house with yellow trim and white plaster on the walls. Their yard is gravelled over and planted with fat tongued exotic plants, aloes and palms. There are two plastic flamingos and a water feature made out of a cracked stone jug beside it.

Matthew answers the door so soon after the knock that Jude wonders if he's been waiting for him, or at least listening for the sound of the engine. The other guy doesn't look like he's slept, dark circles show around his eyes, a dead giveaway of a sleepless night. Below them is the bruised mess that Jude left Matt’s nose in.

"You ok?" Jude asks, nodding at the damage.

Matthew makes a noncommittal noise.

"Look...you can get in the car and listen to me...or you can get a ride from your parents and never speak to me again." Jude twists his keys in his hand and waits for an answer.

Matthew leans back through the door and grabs his bag. "Bye Mom" he calls shortly, slamming the door behind him and walking past Jude towards his car.

Jude sighs and follows him.

Fifteen minutes of awkward silence into the car ride home and Matthew finally cracks.

"You spent the night with him."

"Yeah." Jude huffs tiredly.

Matthew frowns down at his lap, breathing through his nose like he's really trying not to yell his knee jerk reaction and get thrown out of the car.

"Why?" he asks eventually.

"Because it's been a long time since I saw him and I wanted to." Jude says evenly.

Matthew processes this.

"I'm sorry about what I said...about Aaron. That was out of line." He says quietly.

"Yeah it was..." Jude taps his fingers on the wheel awkwardly. "Sorry about your nose."

"It's fine." Matthew says automatically.

Jude looks out at the road ahead.

"So...you want to hear about it or are you just gonna keep guessing?"

"I wasn't..."

Jude turns his face towards Matthew, a 'don't fuck with me' expression firmly in place.

"Ok, fine. I was..." Matthew licks his lips. "I was...worried about you...yesterday. I didn't know where you'd gone and when I thought about it...I didn't know if I should have let you leave with him."

"My choice, not yours." Jude mutters. "And...You don't have to worry about Seb, he's more likely to hurt himself than me." He says quietly.

Matthew looks at him.

"You're serious."

"Yeah." Jude says shortly.

Matthew slumps in his seat a little, crossing his arms defensively.

"If you want to tell me... and I wouldn't blame you if you didn't..." he begins.

"I want to." Jude says. "But I'd have to tell you everything, about me, about Seb...and it's not all stuff you're going to like." He says quietly.

"Probably not." Matthew agrees. "But I won't know that until you tell me."

Jude drums his fingers lightly on the steering wheel.

"Ok..." he sighs. "So...I was sixteen, and I went to church every week with my parents, they were good friends with the priest there and I was...I was doing ok, minor slights like stealing and skipping school." He remembers it from a distance, being that young and naive. "I got that I liked thinking about men...really liked it...and it scared me that it was happening to me all of a sudden, you know? Like my brain was someone else's and I couldn't make it think the right way."

Matthew listens, recognising his own pain in Jude's memory.

"But I just ignored it; I guess...I thought about it when I was...when I needed to think of it. Then I just shut it out, I didn't want to screw any of my friends, or any guys I knew... it was all just abstract. Then..." Jude swallows and licks his dry lips. "The old Father...he retired, and we got a new priest...and I...I could not stop looking at him."

Matthew feels a hitch of unease.

Jude’s eyes prickle at the remembered guilt, hot, thick and heavy in his chest as he'd looked at the new priest, Father Sebastian Gray – still young and fresh compared to the other priest and to the men Jude already knew of that age. Father Sebastian who'd shaken Jude's hand in his parent's front room, vague and detached as Jude had sweated under his gaze, trying not to notice the smoothness of the man's neck, the delicateness of his wrists and the hard lines of his body under his dark pants and shirt. The soft mound of creased fabric at the crux of the priest thighs, pulled just tight enough to display the vague outline of what lay underneath.

Jude had touched himself to that little visual, upstairs in the bathroom, as his parents drank tea with the new priest downstairs. He'd come into his hand thinking of the priest’s skin, his lips and that quick hint of pink tongue as he'd moistened them before speaking. Jude remembered that, and that afterwards, panting, he'd looked into the mirror above the sink and he could swear he'd felt his soul shrivel and sicken over what he had done.

"So...you had a crush on him? Your priest?" Matthew asks slowly, then realisation dawns. "It was Sebastian." He says blankly, looking sideways at Jude. "Sebastian...he was a priest...your priest?" Matthew looks aghast, disgusted and numb with horror.

"It started like that." Jude says, quickly cutting across Matthew's gathering tirade. "It kind of...it just grew, each time I saw him...he was so good, I mean, he was the nicest guy I'd ever met. Kind to the whole congregation, nice to Aaron when he was doing altar service."

Matthew snorts despite himself.

"I will bust your nose again if you even think about..."

"I'm not." Matthew snaps. "Just...you're talking like he's a fucking saint, and all it took was what? You looking at him a bit too often and he decided to..." Matthew clenches his hands into fists. "You were a kid, Jude. He was older, he was a priest, and no matter what anyone thinks about priest's they are supposed to know what is right, to be able to control themselves."

"He did." Jude growls. "You have no idea what he did to..."

"Doesn't matter, Jude..." Matthew touches his arm. "If he...if he forced you...or if he somehow, made you think that it was ok?...you can tell someone, you should, tell, someone."

"I'm still telling the story, aren't I"? Jude glowers out at the road. "Trust me, he didn't..." he shakes his head.”Just listen." He clenches his hands on the wheel and continues with less lightness than before. "So I'm going to church every Sunday and just...watching him. Feeling like...the biggest pervert out there because it's wrong and he's my priest...but..." Jude frowns at the windshield. "I started going to confession during the week, just to hear his voice, I thought about him all the time and every time I worked myself up, every time I..." he darts an embarrassed look at Matthew. “...took care of it...I felt worse, I felt like everything I did just made it worse, made it burn a little more...a whole freaking year of seeing him and talking to him and fucking dreaming about him." He takes a corner with a little more force than necessary. "I went to confession...I told him."

Matthew waits a couple of minutes.

"And then what?" he says, grudgingly.

"And...He said he could help me, that he'd felt the same when he was a teenager...but that maybe another priest would be better. I told him I wanted him."

"Hmmm..." Matthew says softly. Jude takes this as the green light.

"And he tired, he told me how to get rid of the urge, how to block it out...it worked."

"Why would he do that? That's..." Matthew makes a sharp gesture. "That's like torture Jude...that's grade A, fanatical psychobabble..."

"And he believed every word." Jude points out. "He had some kind of bullshit hard line catholic upbringing and...I think he was really trying to help." Jude taps idly at the indicator. "Anyway...I guess we were both having trouble with being so close all the time...and then...I found out after, that he'd stopped eating, kept cleaning the rectory 'stead of sleeping...and he used to take these ice baths..."

Matthew sucks in a sharp breath.

"Yeah...I went by to see him, after he'd told me we shouldn't see each other anymore...he was passed out in the tub, probably about to drown..." Jude frowns at the mental image. "And I dragged him out, got him dry, sat up next to him in bed to keep him warm...make sure he was ok. And...after that I knew I wasn't going to leave him, not ever."

Matthew looks down at the rubber mat under his feet.

"He let me come and see him more after that, we hung out, watched movies...he read to me...after a while I asked if I could sleep with him." Jude catches Matthew's look. "Actually sleep, in the same bed. We did, it was nice." He braces himself. "Long story short? I was the one who...I wanted him so much and I didn't have the control that he did. We were in bed...I took my clothes off and...he let me." He grimaces. "I know how that sounds, but he wanted me and he knew I wanted him...I just..." he shakes his head.

"Jude..."

"He's not a bad person, and right after that he said we had to separate...he moved away, I didn't see him again until last night and...well that was because of you." Jude says in a rush. "I know we had a thing...and I'm sorry that you got caught up in me trying to figure this mess out...but you're the reason I was there last night and I want to be grateful...so don't get pissed and righteous at Seb because trust me, he's given himself worse."

Matthew takes a deep breath.

Jude waits.

"I'm not mad." Matthew says softly. "I mean...I still want to talk to the guy...but you're pretty convinced that it's genuine, that he isn't some kind of predator...and it sounds like this stuff happened, it's not just...a way of seeing that he forced on you." He says awkwardly.

"Matthew...thanks." Jude sighs. "I know this is a lot..."

"Yeah...it's huge, Jude...but..." he shrugs.”I have to deal or lose you, right? So I can try to understand at least, I owe you that."

Jude doesn't say anything, just drives towards the college in silence. There's nothing else to say, and he gets the feeling that if he pushes too far, Matthew will freak out.

He wonders how many times he will tell this story, to Aaron, to his parents, maybe to the police if someone gets them involved, lawyers, friends, relatives, strangers...it's his story and he'll spend the rest of his life passing it out to other people, trying to make them understand what was once so confusing, and yet now seems so concrete.

It’s only an embarrassing three hours before he calls Sebastian. Although, to his amusement, Sebastian answers the phone right away, and Jude drops onto his bed and leans back against the headboard.

"Hey." He says softly, and he can hear the happiness in Sebastian's voice when he snaps out of his prescribed telephone manner and says, "Jude!" like he's surprised to hear from him.

"Yeah, don't think I'm letting you go that easily." He murmurs. "I talked to Matthew...and he's, not ok, but he’s getting there."

"I'm glad, you deserve a friend in this." Sebastian settles down in his armchair and listens to Jude's voice.

"So...how are you feeling?" He asks.

Sebastian thinks for a second.

"I miss you." He says, finally. "And I want to see you again, soon."

Jude smiles against the receiver. "That's the best thing I've heard all day."

"It's not a bad feeling either." Sebastian points out. "Missing you, now that I know you're coming back."

"That's anticipation Seb." Jude smirks. "Plus, it means I've got a week to think of things to do to you." He falters in the silence his words leave behind. "Sorry...that was ...I didn't mean to freak you out."

"Jude." Sebastian interrupts, and Jude recognises the strange, rough lilt to his voice that always marked his struggles for control. "One week." Jude smiles a little at the wave of desire that goes through him, desire which he is now allowed to feel.

The week passes without incident, and every few hours Jude remembers that he is going to see Sebastian; and he grins.

For a month, one month which marks the true beginning of the most significant sexual relationship either of them has ever had, everything is perfect. Jude spends each weekend with Sebastian, driving back to the other man's tiny apartment, greeting Elijah, cooking dinner for him and Sebastian and then taking long walks with him around the town after dark, coming back to read or watch TV. Night by night they catch up on what they've missed.

For Sebastian, eighteen years of celibacy and denial.

For Jude? Three years without his first love.

Jude falls just a little more in love with him every time they go to bed together.

He also gets to experience so many things with Seb, and discover new things about him. He gets to watch Sebastian laugh. Actually laugh, mouth wide open and eyes crinkled up, body shaking under its sheet. He realises that Sebastian needs to shave every five damn minutes, and that when he doesn't get out of bed for almost two days he accumulates a layer of fascinating scruff that scratches Jude's throat when he buries his face there.

Sebastian becomes obsessed with touching Jude, a hand on his arm as he makes cups of coffee, putting his feet up in Jude's lap as they sit watching TV, fingering his hair, kissing his jaw and sleeping curled to his side. After so long without touching he can't stop. He touches Jude for comfort, for reassurance, to please him, to feel him.

He touches him because, he, can – and it's wonderful.

After the month, their first month, there isn't a place on Sebastian's body that Jude hasn't touched, licked, rested his head against or slept with his arms around. He's intimately acquainted with Sebastian, the way Sebastian responds to each pressure point and touch. Jude has learnt that Sebastian’s feet are ticklish; Sebastian has memorised every freckly and mole on Jude’s back.

It's a month that creates memories for them and so many firsts. Memories of their first night at the movies, their first restaurant dinner and the first time they go to a bar, in fact the first bar Sebastian has been to, period.

Jude holds the remembrance of those nights with him through the week, tapping his pen against his literary anthology and thinking idly of the time they’ve spent together. Sebastian practically skips through his weeks. Now that he has the all important ingredient his existence was missing, the love and the capacity to give love, he feels almost weightless.

On one of his weekends with Sebastian, Jude slides out of bed before the other man wakes and goes into the kitchen. He spends half an hour tiptoeing around and avoiding Elijah’s curious eyes as he whisks quietly and lowers plates to the counter like a burglar.

Sebastian feels the bed dip beside him and he blinks awake to the early morning sunlight. Unusually for him he wakes almost instantly, finding himself alert and looking up into Jude’s smiling face.

“Morning.” The younger man murmurs, leaning from his side of the bed to balance with one hand by Seb’s hip.

“Good morning.” Sebastian eases himself upright, leaning against his pillows. The scent of coffee spirals up from the mug Jude offers him, and Seb takes it gratefully.

“Thought I’d surprise you.” Jude says, watching Elijah pounce up onto the bed and paw at Sebastian’s foot, demanding attention.

“Thank you.” Seb scratches the cat behind his pointed, orange ears. “And hello to you too.”

“And...” Jude holds up a plate with a short stack of sweet corn pancakes with bacon and syrup.

“You made me breakfast?” Sebastian smiles shyly.

Jude holds up a plastic lighter and strikes a light to the small white candle that Seb hadn’t noticed sticking out of the pancakes.

“Happy birthday Seb.” Jude says quietly, at the other man’s surprised look he shrugs. “I asked Father Franklyn when it was...I only missed this one by a week.”

“Jude...” Sebastian can’t seem to come up with any more words.

“This is what my Mom makes me on my birthdays, and, even though it’s late, I didn’t want to miss this one entirely.” He hands the plate to Sebastian who sets it on the bed and grasps Jude tightly, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

“You’re welcome.” Jude whispers. “Next year I’ll even make you a cake.”

It's not the start of them, but the solidification of their foundations, Jude thinks that lazy morning. It's almost like a marriage, as if they're anchoring themselves together, tying themselves to the mast. Preparing to weather a storm.

Jude sketches out a plan on the inside cover of his Lit anthology during a particularly dull lecture. It goes something like this:

Come out to Aaron.

Come out to Mom and Dad.

Tell Everyone about Seb.

Graduate and move in with Sebastian.

He admits it's overly simplistic, but it's pretty much everything on his life 'to do' list right now. He paces his dorm room that night, drumming the phone against his palm and wondering what the hell he's going to say.

'Hey Aaron, you know the family priest who you really liked before he just up and left the parish? Well, I'm screwing him. I've been in love with him since I was your age and he loves me too and it's the best thing that's ever happened, EVER in the history of everything. Because he loves me back – and we're going to be together, after everything.'

Yeah, because that was going to cut it.

It sounds ridiculous whenever he tries to explain how he feels. Feelings have never been his strong point, he's spent too long either trying not to have them or trying not to show them. Hauling everything to the surface for someone who isn't Seb feels...wrong, somehow. It’s as if Sebastian obtained a direct route under his skin and that connection somehow makes it easier to talk to him about all the emotional stuff flying around his head. But Aaron is his brother and Jude reasons that he'll never be properly close with Aaron until he tells him the truth about the last four years.

He dials his home number and waits for Aaron to pick up.

"Jude?" Aaron's half puberty mangled voice comes onto the line.

"Hey Aaron...can we talk?" Jude flips the anthology closed.

"We are...well, I'm talking and you're being weird." Aaron rambles.

"Shut up." Jude says automatically. "Listen...I have something to tell you."

"Shit, what's wrong?" Aaron yelps.

Nothing, stop being such a..." Jude sighs. "Look, don't tell Mom or Dad right now...but...oh, shit this is harder than I thought it..." he trails off.”Oh screw it, I'm gay, alright?"

There's a slight pause.

"Well...duh." Aaron huffs.

"What?" Jude blinks, waiting for the expected reaction of confusion and upset.

"Jude...you've never had a real girlfriend, you spend way too much time with Matthew and...well, we used the same computer for years Jude, you never cleared the history."

Jude flushes.

"So, is it Matthew?" asks Aaron interestedly. "You two decided to get serious?...is he going to make an honest woman of you?"

"Ass." Jude mutters. "No it's...uh, someone else."

"No! Matthew's nice, he took me out to the museum that time I came to see you, remember?”

"Aaron, that's not really how great relationships are founded." Jude gripes.

"No, but..." Jude can almost feel Aaron frowning on the other end of the phone. "Is it because he likes someone better? Or, he doesn't want to deal with Dad...or, I don't know, is his penis..."

"Aaron!" Jude shuts his eyes and slaps a hand against the wall. "It's not...no penis talk ok? You're my brother."

"Sorry, but I liked him. Who's this other guy then? The 'better than Matthew' guy." Aaron had to be the neediest kid brother alive.

"He's not better, just...I love him. That's it." Jude tries to down play it but underestimates how much of a girl Aaron can be.

"You love him?" Aaron squeaks. "Oh my God, seriously?"

"Yes, and shut up."

"Do I know him? Is it one of your friends?"

Aaron's puppyish enthusiasm makes him feel bad about keeping it a secret. Knowing that all the happiness his brother feels for him will dissipate once he hears the news that it's Sebastian that Jude's attached himself to.

"He's uh...look, I'll tell you next time I come home ok? I need to explain a few things."

"It's not bad is it? Like one of your teachers? Someone's dad?" Aaron guesses, childish horror in his every word.

"Look, Aaron, I'll tell you when I come home, but you've got to promise not to tell Mom or Dad until I decide to."

There's a slight pause.

"They're going to freak." Aaron says quietly.

"I know." Jude groans.

"No, Jude – They. Will. Freak." Aaron insists, deadly serious. "Callum Rivers?, that guy in my English class? He came out last year and they made him leave the football team at school – Dad agreed with it."

"Well then they'll hate me for life." Jude says with a great deal more belligerence than he feels. "I've still got you, right?"

"Sure...but I bet he's not as great as Matthew" Aaron insists.

"He knows twice as much nerdy crap, and he can make pancakes." Jude says bluntly.

"Good pancakes or your kind of pancakes?" asks Aaron after a slight hesitation.

"Slit your throat and die, they are so beautiful type pancakes." Jude confirms, choosing not to point out that he’s the one who taught Seb to make them.

"Hmmm." Says Aaron noncommittally, before launching into a story about someone in his home economics class setting fire to the stove.

Jude breathes an internal sigh of relief. He's still got Aaron at least, and Aaron accepts at least half of his decision to be in love with Sebastian, publically and wholly. After the conversation winds down he hangs up and calls Sebastian to tell him the good news, only to find that Seb himself is in a terrible mood.

"What happened?" he asks in response to Seb's tired 'hello'.

"Evelyn, in a word." Sebastian sighs. "She believes me to be an abomination, and one which should not be allowed to work in the parts of the library where I might encounter children who are 'vulnerable' to my influence."

Jude says something entirely appropriate but unrepeatable, featuring the words 'Bitch' 'Stick' and 'Fist'

"Quite." Murmurs Sebastian, sounding vaguely appalled but heartened. "I've filed a complaint but...it's unpleasant to deal with, to hear my own worst beliefs about myself spoken to my face..."

"I wish I was there." Jude sighs.

"I wish you were too." Sebastian says, and Jude wonders where he's sitting, whether curled up in a ball and watching Elijah prowl around on the floor or bunched up in bed.

"Seb...after graduation...what are we going to do?" he asks.

There's silence on the line.

"I'd thought that...well...it's a little assuming to think that you'd move in here, but I'd like to...you don't have to stay here..."

"Seb, would you like to live with me?" Jude asks firmly.

"Yes...but not if you have other...wants." Sebastian finishes lamely, clearly uncomfortable with what he sees as coercing Jude into a decision.

"Sebastian I'd like to live with you, and your slut of a cat." He says formally.

Another pause stretches between them.

"Good...ok." Sebastian says in a small, pleased voice.

Jude crossed two items off of his list and reflected that the remaining two might as well read 'perform open heart surgery on myself' and 'climb mount Everest afterwards' for all the chance he had of completing them easily and painlessly.

***

He goes about his ‘coming out’ in a text book fashion. Jude takes a weekend to go home to Folsom. He gets his parents to sit at the kitchen table, takes a chair for himself and then clearly and calmly lays out the details of his sexuality. It’s one of the hardest, one sided conversations he has ever participated in and the whole time his Dad’s eyes are burning holes in the oilcloth on the table. Jude finishes his speech and looks up to be met with roaring silence.

His dad glares stonily down at the table, heavy brows drawing together as his jaw sets, square and unmoving.

"Say that again." His mother asks softly, watching his father out of the corner of her eye as Samuel continues to sit in apocalyptically damning silence.

Jude scuffs his feet on the floor under the dining table.

"I'm gay." He repeats.

He’s really trying to remember that this is the right thing to do. He doesn’t want to lie for the rest of his life, and telling his parents this one thing opens the door to him telling them that he’s in love with Sebastian. It's easy to know that, quite another to get it across without inspiring the God awful vision his parents might possibly be nursing right this second. Their son, sinning, with another man.

"You're..." his mother lets the other word stick in her throat, glances at her husband, then back to Jude. "Honey..."

"What do you mean 'I'm gay' where the hell did that come from?" his Dad finally says accusingly.

"Well...I don't know, a lot of people think we're just born the way we are...maybe it's something environmental, psychological..." Jude rolls his eyes at himself, this really isn’t helping. "I'm just...gay, Dad, I can't explain why."

"Environ...you're saying we did this to you?" his dad blusters.

"Samuel, that's not why he said." Anne soothes. "Jude, sweetie...have you thought maybe that...you could...not...be...gay?" She stumbles.

"I tried, Mom." Jude says, clenching his hands together as he remembers just how hard he'd tried. "I really did, since before I turned sixteen it's just been there...and...I tried not to feel it, not to see the way I did, but..." He swallows a ball of apprehension. "I shouldn't have to try, I'm gay and that's...that's fine."

Anne looks at him in silence, digesting this.

"It is not 'fine'." Samuel's eyes are wide with incredulity. "Jude, it's a sin for a reason! It's..." he frowns. "You want people to think you're a freak? To treat you like a deviant, like a diseased pariah...and then at the end of a life of that, get landed in Hell for eternity?" He says softly.

"Samuel...let's just...think about this." Says Anne, clearly struggling.

"He's my eldest son Anne..." he glares at Jude.”You think I want that kind of life for you? People looking at you like you're...like you're disgusting." He thumps a hand on the table. "Which they will if you start getting involved with men like that, Jude...they're wrong, and whoever told you that it was 'fine' was clearly..."

"Father Franklyn Adams." Jude says calmly. "Father Franklyn...told me that a sin is what diverts you from God, and I've tried so hard not to be this way that I wound up hating God for taking me away from the man I..." he falters, aware suddenly that he's laid more bare than he intended.

"The man you...love?" Anne asks quietly. "You're...involved, with someone?" Her voice treads a knife edge between tentative happiness and mistrust.

"Father Franklyn...is the priest in Matthew's home town, Auburn...isn't he?" his father says, taking a different tack. "Are you...did Matthew put you up to this? Are you involved with him?"

"I am not dating Matthew!" Jude says, with possibly too much vehemence. "But he took me to see his priest to get some advice...to help me see that God never wanted me to live alone."

"So who are you seeing?" his mother questions.

"Father Campbell, that's who you're going to be seeing." His Dad says firmly. "Get this liberal, road to Hell bullshit balanced with the truth, Jude, the Bible is clear about this."

"I'm not going to see Father Campbell, and I'm not going to change my mind about this." Jude says firmly. "I'm gay, I'm having..."

"I don't want to know!" booms Samuel.

"...a consensual, adult relationship, with another man." Jude continues doggedly.

"Jude..." his Mother says softly.

"I don't want to think of you...like that." Says Samuel quietly.

"I'm not asking you to, I'm asking you to respect, my choice...to understand that I'm choosing to go with my nature on this, and to at least try to accept it." Jude looks his father in the eye. "I wouldn't be doing this if I wasn't sure. I'm sure, Dad."

Mutely his Father shakes his head, looking down.

His Mother looks on the verge of tears already, and this newest declaration of his apparently doesn't help.

"I wish you'd stayed here." She says shakily. "Kept with the church instead of going off...going off..." He voice cracks.

"Anne." Samuel warns.

"No...I..." she shakes her head and her face crumples. "I wish you'd stayed, and that we'd been allowed to help you with this...we could have fought for you, made it easier...we could have gone to see Father Gray together...gotten you some help."

Jude hopes he isn't flushing as much as he thinks he is.

"Mom...this really isn't down to you." He tries to say, calmly. "This is something that will always be with me, has always been with me..."

"Fight it." Samuel says at once. "You think we don't all have to fight to be decent? To choose the right thing over the easy thing or the pleasant thing?" he insists with all the soft, sure, belief that Sebastian used to instil into the doctrines of the church. "Being good, being saved, is all about fighting. No one ever beat the devil with words, it takes weapons, Jude, and it takes strength."

"I've been strong." Jude spits out. "I've had the 'weapons' that the church thought I needed, I've seen them work and they never seem to destroy sin...they hurt the poor bastard who's trying to use them." He breathes heavily and reins himself in. "I'm being strong now, because this? Not easy Dad, not by a long shot...living the life I'm looking at? Also, not easy. But I want it enough to try. To fight for it."

His parents look at him, his mother tearfully worried, his father, glowering but with something like grudging respect buried deep in his eyes.

"Tell me who he is." Samuel says softly.

"Dad." Jude warns. "Don't, not yet."

"Why? You want to fight for him you can start now, tell me his name." Samuel says, a set to his shoulders that denies all argument.

"I can't." Jude pleads softly. "Not now, you're mad, you're..."

"Tell me, the Goddamn name, Jude." He growls, and Anne almost flinches at the blasphemy.

"No." Jude maintains, softly, trying not to cave or wither under the strength of his father's anger.

Samuel thumps the table, once, hard. It makes both Anne and Jude jump and makes Aaron, who’s listening at the top of the stairs, scuffle quickly back into his room.

"You tell me, or you can get out of this house and not come back."

"Samuel, no." Anne snaps. "Jude, stay exactly where you are."

"No, I'm going." Jude gets up and looks down on his parents. "Dad..." he sighs.”I'll give you a month, just...think about it, get used to it...when you're ready? You can meet him." He turns and walks out of the house, towards his car, without listening to his father's angry buzz of threats behind him.

At the car, he turns, waves to Aaron, watching snub nosed at his bedroom window, then gets into his car and drives away down the street. Halfway to the turn off for the highway to college, he changes his mind, flips open his cell and dial's Seb's number.

What’s another hour’s drive, after all?

Sebastian opens the door of his apartment in dark sweat pants and a grey T-shirt, clearly ready for bed and waiting up for Jude's arrival. He accepts Jude into his arms without complaint, hugging him for a moment on the threshold before he closes the door and brings Jude a little further into the apartment.

"What happened?" he asks softly as Jude draws away and sits on the couch.

"Ugh..." Jude shakes his head and drops his forehead into his hands. "Just tell me one day we'll have our own place with like, a bazillion cats and a huge perimeter fence to keep this bullshit out."

"That bad?" Sebastian drops gracefully onto a couch cushion and folds his knees up to his chest, worry pinching his features.

"Dad told me to leave and not come back...oh, and I'm going to Hell." Jude tries to be flippant but he feels like someone's busted his nose from the throbbing in his temples and the tears burning behind his clenched eyelids. "They're probably not going to let me near Aaron anymore."

"Jude..." A light hand reaches for his shoulder tentatively, hovering just slightly above his cotton covered skin. "I'm sorry...I..."

"It's not your fault." Jude grits his teeth and tries to control everything within his mind. "It's not even them it's just...the way things are, the way they've been...it doesn't change just because we want it to...and I still have to tell them..." he grimaces. "They'll hate us both for that."

"They won't hate you." Sebastian says softly.

Elijah mewls quietly and climbs into Jude’s lap, slinking baggily into a ball.

"Yes, they will." Jude chuckles drily, bitterly. "I made you leave the priesthood Seb...the way my Mom talked about you? Like you were her...personal saviour or something, best priest she's ever known..." Jude draws in a choked sob. "If she knew what I've thought about you...what I've gotten you to do with me..."

Sebastian jerks his hand away from Jude's shoulder.

"Seb..." Jude looks up at him. "Seb...I'm sorry, I..."

Sebastian seizes his arms and presses Jude back and down, onto the couch, covering him and holding him down with the weight of his body. Elijah springs free and high tails into the bedroom. Sebastian lowers his mouth to the shell of Jude's ear and speaks softly, his hold on the man underneath him slackening now that he's gotten him to lie there.

"You were, and are...the best thing to happen to me. Living a life like mine...you are everything I never had, all I wanted..." He says seriously, breath hastened by the brief exertion and the force of his sentiment. It goes softer still, warm and fluid, barely audible. "The things I do with you...I do because I choose to."

"I know..." Jude's soft exhalation is caught by Sebastian's mouth, pressing to his gently and drawing the breath up from him. Sebastian shifts back a little.

"You deserve to have your family, Aaron and your parents...to have that life." Sebastian traces Jude’s clavicle thoughtfully. "Perhaps you shouldn't tell them about me."

"I want to." Jude insists, wrapping his arms over Seb’s back. "What else am I going to do? Keep you a secret for the rest of my life?"

"It might be better." Sebastian says in a small voice. "They might accept you for being gay, in time...but this, this is a sight more damning, even in accepting eyes."

Jude looks up at he, piercing green eyes arguing every word mutely, even as some inner mechanism seems to turn at the thought, working it out and perhaps, maybe, agreeing. Sebastian waits patiently, watching Jude think.

"They'll never understand will they?" Jude says finally, quietly.

"I don't think so." Sebastian replies evenly.

"If I tell them...they'll never speak to me again... if I'm lucky." Jude lies flat on the couch and runs his hands up Sebastian's back, as if reassuring himself that he's there with him. "If I'm not...they could make all kinds of trouble for us...drag us to court if they have to." He nudges his nose alongside Sebastian's and feels their breath mingle between their lips. "I'm still gonna tell them." He whispers.

"Why?" Sebastian presses a little closer, smaller and more compact than Jude has ever been, easily supported by him and held by him as they whisper; even there is no one but Elijah to overhear them from the bedroom.

"Because, if everyone knows? There'll be backlash. They'll hate me, or both of us. Everyone will find out and people like Evelyn? They'll be a major problem..." he cups the side of Sebastian's face. "But then everyone will know." He breathes. "The only reason I have you, the only reason...is because I told you what I was...because I told Matthew enough for him to take me to Father Franklyn, and because you told him enough for him to work it out." He swallows. "Keeping silent? It's just a way to lose out...if I lie to my family, I will lose them, so why not lose them with the truth?" his voice shakes despite his efforts to sound stronger, older.

Sebastian looks deep into him, and not for the first time Jude wonders just how easy he is to read, now that Sebastian is not blinded by his own self loathing.

"You're a very brave young man." Sebastian says, plainly, in that odd priestly way of his. "I wish I had a hundredth of that strength."

Jude flushes and indicates their position.

"I think you already do."

Sebastian kisses him.

Chapter Thirteen

Lying on Sebastian’s bed, Jude figures that there has to be a way to tell his parents about Sebastian without them, A) going to the police or B) his Dad tearing Sebastian apart. He just has to think of it.

"I can't think of one." Sebastian grumbles from his place, hunkered near the headboard and glowering into his coffee. Sebastian, after a few years out of the priesthood, has lapsed into the happy territory of not being a morning person, especially after a late night. Jude’s meeting with his parents, coupled with the lengthy drive to Sebastian’s apartment and the involved discussion that they’d fallen into had made them very late in getting to bed. Jude was now paying his debt with freshly made coffee.

"Could I maybe tell them over the phone?" Jude scratches at his own thigh lazily and offers Sebastian half of his breakfast waffle, which the older man declines.

"Jude." Sebastian glowers pointedly.

"Ok, face to face it is." Jude sighs. "We could put you in an adamantium box." Sebastian looks at him blankly, Jude's smirk fades. "It's what Wolverine's claws are made of."

"Who's Wolverine?" Sebastian asks politely.

"A character in a comic book." Jude grunts over his coffee. Sebastian frowns at this and thinks for a second.

"If he is fictitious how can we build a box from a material that is also, presumably, fict..."

"Forget it." Jude groans. "You're lucky you're pretty."

Sebastian blinks sleepily, trying to decided whether to be insulted or not, and settles on being happily distant.

"Right, we have a few options here." Jude grouses, ticking said options off on his fingers. "I can tell my parents sooner rather than later, I can do it with or without you being there, and I could tell Aaron first if I wanted to." Jude sighs. "I just can't work out which way to do it. Which is the right way?"

"I doubt there is one...I’m sorry." Sebastian says after a moment's thought and in response to Jude's glare.

Jude subsides onto the mattress with a sigh.

"I can tell Aaron, he might...I mean out of all of them, he's the one that stands the best chance of understanding this."

"And if he tells your parents in a fit of pique?" Sebastian wrings a corner of the sheet in his hand nervously.

"I'm trying not to think about that possibility.” Jude sighs and rolls to the side, laying his head on Sebastian's shoulder and smoothing a hand down the older man’s chest and under the sheet. Sebastian rumbles approvingly and closes his eyes as Jude's fingers stoke his side.

"We were discussing..." he says half-heartedly. Jude shifts a little more on top of him.

"I can leave it for an hour."

"Or more." Sebastian mutters, carefully nudging Jude in between his legs and pulling him down over him.

They're been so careful where sex has been concerned, it still has an air of the forbidden and frightening to it. Despite Seb’s repeated assurances to the contrary, Jude still suspects the older man of having trouble adjusting to this new freedom. Still, they indulge in each other whenever Jude visits the older man, and Jude hasn’t noticed any hidden concerns in his partner. Slowly they are both coming to realise that this is a joy that will not be ripped away from them.

Jude returns to his deliberations later, a little rumpled and lying on the bed listening to Sebastian in the shower, occasionally calling out his thoughts on the matter. Since they reunited Jude has spent so much time at Sebastian’s apartment that it feels like a second home. He knows every blanket, every night time sound and the pro’s and con’s of each chair and cooking pot. He knows what radio stations are available and on which days the garbage gets collected. So it is with no small measure of surety that Jude rests his head on Seb’s pillow and closes his eyes, thinking.

"I should tell Aaron first, kind of a test for when I tell Mom and Dad right?"

Sebastian 'Mmmm's ' politely in response over the sound of the running water.

"So, I can do that face to face and then...I don't know, if he wants to meet you he can?" Jude says, mostly to himself. "That means getting him to meet me without Mom and Dad finding out right away."

"Secrecy might undermine your point." Sebastian counsels, returning from the bathroom in a robe and hunting in the dresser for some clean clothes.

"Secrecy's kind of necessary." Jude grumbles, sliding out from under the sheets and padding towards the shower. Sebastian glares in mock indignation at his naked back, sloping to his bare ass and legs.

"Modesty might also be considered a necessity." The older man sighs.

Jude smirks to himself as he closes the bathroom door, feeling the warm steamy air settle around him and the scent of Sebastian's soap circulating through the steam and over his skin. Such displays are common place now, and Jude has learnt to love the ease with which he can show himself to Sebastian now that they have found each other again.

He turns the water on, hot and fast, hammering onto the already wet, warm tile.

He was not being entirely flippant when he thought of their own home, surrounded by defences and holding them safe from the prying eyes of the world. He has wished, on and off over the last three years, that he could simply have taken Sebastian away, somewhere clean and fresh, somewhere without prejudice and suspicion.

If such a place existed.

He wonders what it would be like to forget that a third of the world, maybe more, considers them unclean. That two thirds overall would condemn Sebastian for his lust and affection for a younger partner, that the rest would either find them distasteful or a curiosity.

He imagines sleeping beside Sebastian in a large bed, and though he cares little for interior design, the bed does appear to have white sheets, a thought supplied by his more symbolic mind. To sleep naked and wake naked, eat their breakfast and go about their business in uninterrupted innocence, without struggle, without pain.

Jude applies soap to his hands, washes his body and lathers his hair, and begins to put together his speech to Aaron, which will now have to wait until the next weekend when he has another break from college.

"Aaron, I know this is going to seem strange, but don't get upset..."

"I've loved him a long time, and I want to be with him now..."

"He loves me too..."

"Please don't hate us..."

He kicks each suggested line from his head as it occurs; Aaron is intelligent, observant and not entirely blind to Jude's actions, as he had first thought. He can't blank Aaron out now with platitudes and false sentiments, like he's explaining death to a four year old.

"Aaron, before I went to college, you know I spent a lot of time with my friends, out late and sometimes overnight? Well, I was lying to Mom and Dad, really I was with the man I'm seeing now, and I wanted to be with him for the last three years, it's just things got complicated..."

Jude sucks in a mouthful of water from the spray and spits into the drain.

"Aaron, when Mom and Dad thought I was with my friends at night...I was seeing Father Gray at his home."

"Make of that what you will." He sighs into the water.

He'll tell Aaron that, one simple line, and wait for the questions to come. Because Aaron will have questions, and Jude knows he will have to engage with them, answer them as they come and not cut them off with a speech. He's just worried about what Aaron will ask, about what he will think of him and Sebastian.

It occurs to him, somewhat belatedly, that the place he wants to be. The invented place he wants to escape to with Sebastian already has a name. Eden.

He smiles even though it isn't funny, closes his eyes and plunges his head under the streaming water.

If they ever had a paradise, they've long since been expelled from it. What comes now, he thinks miserably, but with a set to his shoulders that will only grow in strength as he continues to age, is toil. That is what the next few weeks will boil down to – Work, trial, pain and judgement.

He wonders why, in the Bible he's read since he was old enough to understand the thing, it never mentioned in the story of Adam and Eve, that upon their expulsion, their damning to the world of harsh thorns and eternal labour, that they still had each other.

By the time he gets out of the shower to get dressed, Seb has already made the bed and is busy putting together his grocery list for the week. It’s become tradition for Jude to help him with it on the weekends when he comes up to visit. At least, Sebastian is holding his notebook and a pen, but he’s really just staring into the middle distance.

“Thinking deep there Seb?” Jude asks, still looping his brown leather belt into his jeans.

“Mmmm? No just...” He shakes his head. “Just my foolishness.”

“This I’ve got to hear.” Jude smiles, opening a cupboard aimlessly to check the levels of cereal and sugar. Underneath his lightness he’s a little worried, privately he’s waiting for Seb to freak out and end them again. Just because it hasn’t happened so far hasn’t convinced him that the ex-priest is entirely certain.

“Jude...” Sebastian asks quietly. “If I gave you something...I wouldn’t want you to misinterpret it, but it would be a gesture to...” He frowns thoughtfully. “Sometimes...I see you looking at me, like you’re waiting for me to push you away.”

Jude feels himself flush, he hadn’t realised he was that transparent.

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise.” Sebastian says at once. “I have hardly given you reason to believe me to be...decisive or indeed very steadfast in my decisions....but I would like to prove to you that I am, this time.”

“How?” Jude asks.

Sebastian fishes in his pants pocket for something and then holds up a gold ring.

“....what am I supposed to be thinking here?” Jude asks hoarsely.

“It’s not a proposal.” Sebastian says firmly. “But...this was my Father’s wedding band and I would like you to have it.”

They'd never really talked about Sebastian's family, but from what Jude understood, the ring Seb is holding was pretty much the last thing Sebastian had of them.

“You don’t want me to have that.” He reasons. “Seb...that’s your Dad’s, do you really want...”

“I want you to have it.” Sebastian insists calmly, “Unless you’d rather not.”

Jude reaches out and takes it, sliding it onto his middle finger quickly before looking up at the older man.

“If you’re sure.” Jude murmurs.

“From now on I plan to be.” Promises Seb.

Chapter Fourteen

Aaron stares straight out at the seals on their green slime covered rock, children mill around the railings, looking in while their parents survey the park at large. It’s been a favourite spot of Aaron’s every since they were kids, and Jude could think of nowhere else in the end. Just outside Folsom the place is part park, part zoo. They’ve been here so many times together that it’s almost surprising to find that it’s changed – there are new benches and sapling trees. He’d half expected to find the same busted up roundabout in between the seal enclosure and the aviary.

They've been sitting on the bench for a while now, or perhaps it just feels like it because of the pervasive, awkward silence. Jude folds his arms across his stomach and glances sideways at Aaron again. His brother is scrunched down in his jacket, not looking at him, but letting his eyes trail from the seals to a point somewhere between his shoes and the low brick wall of the enclosure.

"Aaron..."

"Shut up." Aaron says blankly.

"Aaron, c’mon..."

"I mean it, give me a second." Aaron grits out. He lets air stream harshly out of his nose. Jude looks fixedly at the ground and tries not to hate the people around them so viciously for laughing and talking like everything's normal.

A bird chokes its cry out in a tree nearby; the sky is still as steely grey as it was ten minutes ago. Jude notes that it looks like rain. His hand feels strange when he clenches it, still adjusting to the new weight on his middle finger. The metal is warm on his skin, the band plain and gold.

"You gotta say something eventually." He prompts, as Aaron remains stubbornly silent.

"Like what?"

"Whatever you want, just say something." Jude waits as Aaron resumes his silence.

"You think all those seals are related?" Aaron says distractedly.

"Aaron!"

"What?" Aaron bristles. "What do you want me to say here? Because I can't say I'm happy, or glad or...that you guys are so right for each other." Aaron's face twists a little. "He's almost as old as Dad."

"No, he isn't."

"Close enough." Aaron growls stubbornly. "I used to see him every week at Mass...he was nice to me, he was funny." Aaron's pinched face is a monument to betrayal. "I thought he was so great, way nicer than Father Drake...and it was all because of you, wasn't it? Because he wanted you."

"Seb is a good man, he was an awesome priest." Jude defends, loyally. "He just...he chose it for the wrong reasons."

"Worked out pretty great for him though, right?" Aaron utters humourlessly. "Led him right to you...you were my age, Jude, how is that right?"

"I was old enough." Jude says evenly.

"Really? Because I'm not." Aaron's voice rises with anger. "Jude, if some guy...some thirty year old guy, was making a move on me? You’d kill him."

Jude swallows and scuffs the dirt under his foot.

"You hear about this kind of thing all the time." Aaron stresses. "Priest's, teachers, coaches...a lot of the time it goes on for years because the kid they're...with, believes that the person hurting them, loves them. That it's a relationship."

"Aaron, don't..."

Aaron, veteran of lectures, informational TV and actually paying attention in school assemblies, doesn't let it slide.

"I get that you're...gay, alright? That's fine, good for you. But, the way we were brought up, makes it pretty easy for you to get confused, and for someone to take advantage of that."

Jude's hands clench on his knees.

"...that's how paedophile's work..."

"Don't you ever call him that!" Jude leaps up from the bench, voice loud enough to scare the cawing bird away and scatter the remaining children. Aaron is white, two hectic spots of furious colour on his cheeks. His eyes are wide and afraid, worried by Jude's outburst.

"I'm twenty-one fucking years old." Jude growls, ignoring Aaron's mild twitch at the profanity. "Do I look like a kid to you? No." Aaron shrinks smaller and slides his hands up into his jacket sleeves. "Aaron...you know me, do you honestly think anyone could get me to do something I didn't want to do?" He pushes on as Aaron remains mired in silence. "Do you think I'd be risking all this, if I wasn't sure about him?"

Aaron looks up at him.

"Are you, sure?"He asks.

"Well, you and Matthew both called him a pervert, and I still don't believe he is one." Jude retorts. "It's been years and I still want to be with him, still want to live with him when all of this is done." He laughs, strained and humourless. "If he is using me, he's in it for the long haul."

Aaron looks upset. "Jude, I didn't mean to make you think that."

"Really?" Jude challenges. "Kind of seems like it's what everyone wants me to think...and I keep saying it isn't true...but sometimes..." He stiffens his spine and feels his jaw tighten with anguish. "Sometimes, the more you hear something, the more you think it's true...and I don't want to believe that, of him." He looks at his brother, and realises, horrified, that at some point he's lost a barrier to something and he's now quite close to tears. "Aaron, I got convinced that I had some kind of...filth, in my mind. That I was sick for being like hundreds of thousands of other people out there...I don't want to lose him to another lie, just because people say it's so."

Aaron stares off at the pavement, his face hardening.

"You can't tell Mom and Dad." He says finally.

"I have to."

"No, Jude, the gay thing? They might get over that, might." He stresses. "But if you tell them that you and Sebastian are together, that you're staying together...they'll never accept that, they'll just cut you out."

"You saying you want me to stick around?" Jude says, half disbelieving.

"You're my big brother." Aaron shrugs. "But Mom and Dad will freak out if you tell them, first born son or not."

Jude goes silent for a while.

"Guess I won't find out 'till I try."

Aaron sighs.

"Is he worth it, really?" He asks, tentatively. "I mean...we're your family Jude, you had to know this wouldn't be completely ok with us, with them anyway."

"All the grief we've given ourselves and he's still the thing that makes me the happiest, out of everything I've got." Jude looks down at his hand. "Yeah, he's worth it."

Aaron studies him closely.

"You know, I haven't seen him since he left the parish." Aaron says conversationally.

Jude half smiles despite himself.

"You're terrible at subterfuge."

"Jude, I knew you were gay by the time I was twelve." Aaron points out.

"Lucky guess." Jude retorts. He turns serious. "I left Seb in the car, parked up before I met you here." He says quietly. "You could see him, if you wanted."

"What would I say?" Aaron raises an eyebrow, mouth turning down unhappily.

"You don't have to...but you said it, he's nice, and he's a little...fragile, about how we look to people...about whether this is right."

"And it would help if I saw him? Jude, I still don't know if I..."

"I know. But...maybe it would help if you saw him." Jude's face opens up, younger and pleading.

Aaron thinks for a moment.

"Ok." He gets up. "Sure, let’s go."

Together they cross the park, two figures in jeans and jackets. Jude’s car is parked a street away, and Sebastian is sitting in the passenger seat, ghost-like in a white shirt beyond the dark glass. His eyes flick between Jude and Aaron, and Jude sees them widen imperceptibly, a silent question. He nods, and Sebastian opens the door slowly, the clunk of the mechanism dull as he steps out onto the sidewalk, shivering in the early morning cold.

"Seb...you remember Aaron." Jude gestures between them.

"Hello Aaron." Sebastian says, with the kind of frown that says he's marshalling his words carefully, like a man making an important speech on the witness stand.

"...Mr Gray." Aaron greets him awkwardly, the 'Father' conspicuous in both its absence and the pause it leaves.

"Well, this is awkward." Jude attempts to joke, earning a small smile from Sebastian and an awkward huff of laughter from Aaron.

"Someone should say something." Jude puts in.

Silence continues.

"You're in love with my brother?" Aaron chooses to say, nailing the almost lightened mood right between the eyes.

"Yes, very much so." Sebastian says, seriously.

Aaron glares at him for a long moment, and to his credit Sebastian doesn't blink.

"Can we get coffee?" Aaron says suddenly, turning to Jude and shoving his hands into his pockets. Jude glances between them and nods almost imperceptibly.

"Sure."

Aaron turns and starts walking towards the Starbucks two streets over. He turns slightly.

"You coming Sebastian?"

In a Starbucks like every other Starbucks, Jude barters Aaron down to a hot chocolate and a scone, ignoring his brother's whines that he is old enough for coffee. Aaron hyper was not for the faint hearted.

They sit at a corner table, Aaron with his hot chocolate (which he bedecked, despite his protestations of maturity, with cream, sprinkles and pink marshmallows rapidly melting into gum), Jude with his mug of filter coffee, and Sebastian, warming his hands around a cup of tea, a finger of biscotti on the plate next to it.

"You ok?" Jude asks him.

"Yes...why?" Sebastian asks.

"You look kind of pale." Jude mutters casually.

Sebastian attempts to marshal a smile, failing slightly. "I feel a little nauseous; I think it's the cold."

Jude shrugs off his plaid lined jacket and tucks it over Sebastian's thin shoulders without comment.

Aaron watches all this from behind his mound of confectionery. Jude, his brother, is acting like a normal man from a romantic movie, or a boyfriend out in the park with his girlfriend. He squints at them, looking for hints that Sebastian is somehow controlling his brother, but he has yet to spot even one. Jude paid for their drinks, taking Sebastian's order because the older man is shy of speaking with the brisk counter staff, Jude prods Sebastian into answering questions, and it is Jude monitoring Sebastian's well being.

Sebastian, Aaron admits, if only to himself, is just a man. As normal, inconspicuous and mildly polite as he was when Aaron first met him as a child. He is, perhaps not as old as Aaron first thought either. Aaron hasn't really seen Jude much since his older brother went to college, and now he's had a good look at him he can see that his brother is every inch a twenty-one year old, and not how Aaron remembers him at eighteen. He looks older and bigger, grown stronger somehow in the last three years. Sebastian, conversely, is aging well; he’s not even greying yet and seems to get along with Jude in the way Aaron sees his Mom and Dad behave in public.

There's also the look Sebastian gives Jude as the warm weight of the jacket settles over his thin shirt. Aaron reads surprise, gratitude and pleasure there; as if he was not expecting this favour, and is glad that it came from Jude and Jude alone. Aaron sucks cream and marshmallow goo off of his spoon, brow wrinkling in thought.

"You want some gummy bears on that, Sandy?" Jude smirks over his own coffee.

"Jude, I'm not a kid." Aaron frowns “Or a girl.” As he swirls sprinkles into his hot drink and watches them dissolve. Jude chuckles to himself and Sebastian smiles in the way he used to when Aaron cracked a joke before mass, that half-there-barely-noticeable smile.

It's still Father Gray, somewhere underneath the street clothes and his Jude's jacket...only it's not. For one thing, he's not as skinny as he used to be, and he looks less pinched up around the eyes. Father Gray was serious, worried looking and whip thin. Sebastian, is slightly softer, like the focus on his image is lower, blurring him into his smile and his soft hair and his light eyes.

Aaron wonders if it's Jude that did that, or if it happened by itself.

"Aaron." Sebastian begins awkwardly. "How are you doing in school?"

Jude laughs to himself, but Aaron perks up, he likes talking about finals (for which he is totally prepared) and his plans for college (Yale, he has their brochure pinned on the wall above his bed). He and Sebastian strike up a conversation about the relative merits of extracurricular activities verses academic solidarity on a college application, Jude accepts Sebastian's biscotti as a bribe to let the conversation continue uninterrupted.

When Aaron explains that he chose his literature class that year because they were doing Chris Blaine, and he liked Jude reading him Elijah’s Gate, Sebastian gets a funny look on his face and half glances at Jude. Aaron watches his brother blush and look down into his empty mug, but doesn't press the issue. It's probably a couple thing.

Aaron looks at Sebastian, suddenly realising that Jude has had sex with this man. Then moves hurriedly away from the subject. He doesn't want to think of Jude naked, ever.

Sebastian finishes up his tea and sets the cup down. Jude notices and raises his hand to the curve of Sebastian's back.

"You want another one? Warm you up?" He asks gently.

Sebastian smiles and nods gently.

"Aaron?" Jude turns to his younger brother.

"I'm ok." Aaron raises his head and smiles, then blinks, startled. "Mom?"

Jude turns and sees his mother, standing by the counter, take-out cup in hand and an uncertain, uneasy smile on her face.

"Jude? Aaron?" She keeps smiling but her eyes travel to the third man at the table, a question in them. "Father Gray?"

They're frozen in an arrangement of silent terror as Anne's eyes take in Jude's hand, still resting on the back of Sebastian's chair, and the jacket over the ex-priest's shoulders, that is too large and too scruffy to be anything but Jude's. Her smile wilts like a hot house flower in a blasting wind, eyes wide and almost afraid.

She shakes her head, an almost imperceptible motion, but there none the less.

"Mom..." Jude stands up and holds his hand up like he's trying to reassure a frightened animal.

Anne backs away.

"Aaron, come with me, we're going home." Her voice shakes a little, but the hand she extends towards her younger son is firm.

Still, Aaron retains his seat, and his mother's gaze, when it falls on him, is a shade from hysterical.

"Aaron."

"Mom, I'm gonna stay." Aaron says quietly.

Anne seems torn between wanting to drag Aaron bodily from the room and not wanting to get closer to Jude and Sebastian. In the end she turns and almost runs from the coffee house, leaving the patrons who have been watching this odd drama unfold, with only their coffees to entertain them.

Aaron curls his fingers into his palms.

Sebastian looks whiter than his shirt, eyes closed like he's in a day time soap and has just been given some really bad news. Jude just looks shell shocked, and kind of like he wants to hit something.

"Damn it." Is the first thing he says, sinking down into his seat and putting a hand on Sebastian's shoulder. "I didn't want...oh shit." He shakes his head, as if he can't quite articulate how badly this has gone or how much he didn't want to be caught out like this.

Aaron taps his hands on the table.

"I'll go get you that tea." The younger Walker mutters, sliding out of his chair and bringing some change out of his pocket, he retreats to the counter to order the drink for Sebastian, looking back to the two men still seated at the table. Jude has his arm around Sebastian's shoulders, talking quick and softly, his face a mask of regret. Sebastian reaches a hand to clasp the fingers on his shoulder, face tilted towards the table.

Chapter Fifteen

Jude drives Sebastian back to his apartment. They stand in the hallway while Aaron waits in the car outside. Sebastian looks tired and sickly and sad, it’s all Jude can do not to bundle him into a blanket and lie down next to him, just like that first time, so long ago, when he’d first held the other man after saving his life.

Instead, Jude flips the switch on the kettle and sets out the makings for more tea. Then he sits Seb down at the kitchen table with a blanket over his shoulders and squeezes him tightly.

“It’ll be alright Seb.” He says, trying to assure them both.

Sebastian looks pained. “Nothing I imagined came close to how she looked at me.”

“Mom was just...shocked, but I can fix this...I will, fix this.” Jude promises. He kisses the messy dark curls of his lovers head. “And then I’ll come home to you – promise.”

Seb touches Jude’s hand, the one with the gold band on it, his fingers applying the lightest pressure. A benediction.

Jude leaves the apartment once he’s certain that Sebastian will be alright.

Aaron has climbed into the front seat now that the other man is gone. When Jude gets in he can see that his younger brother is worrying his lip with his teeth.

“Is Sebastian going to be alright?” Aaron asks.

Jude puts the car in gear and drives slowly out of the lot.

“I hope so.” He says evenly, then slaps a hand on the wheel. “What was Mom even doing here? The only time we ever came out anywhere near here was to go to the park, what would she want in town?”

“No idea. Like it matters.” Aaron shakes his head, wondering at Jude’s preoccupation with such an idea. “She was there. She saw...what are you going to say to them?”

“You think I have any idea what to say to them? It was hard enough telling you.” Jude’s fingers flicker nervously on the wheel. They drive in silence for a while. Jude’s mind is chaotic, a derby of horses trampling through his temples and drumming a headache into existence.

“I’m going to drop you at the movies once we get to town, ok?” Jude says finally.

“No, not ok – you’re going to go and face them alone?” Aaron says, disbelievingly.

“It’s about me, not you...and I don’t want you to hear the things they’re going to say about me.”

“I heard everything last time, Jude.” Aaron says unhappily.

“All the more reason to keep you out of it.” Jude snaps.

“Jude...”

“That’s the end of it.”

He drives until he reaches Folsom, cruising through the streets until he reaches the movie theatre he’d gone to as a teenager.

It feels like a lifetime ago since he was that young.

"It's going to be ok, Jude." Aaron insists, with all the optimism of someone who has never had to hide a part of who they are.

"I'll see you later." Jude mutters, already looking ahead through the glass, hands drumming impatiently on the wheel as his brother exits the car.

He has to do this alone.

It’s not a lengthy drive after that, though he kind of wishes it was. He parks and gets out of the car. The house is quiet and still, the porch empty and the lawn as pristine as even. Jude strides up the short path to his parent's house, for it is most definitely their house, and not his. Not now.

Now, in front of the door, Jude raises his fist and raps on the wood. His stomach swoops with sick nervousness and his palms are already sweating. From inside he hears someone come close to the door, perhaps close enough to see him through the spy hole. The door remains closed, the figure behind it attempting artful stillness. But Jude can hear them breathing.

"Mom?" he asks quietly.

A soft sound like a stifled sob or a squeak of shock comes through the door.

"Mom, please open the door."

Nothing happens.

"Is Dad there?"

There's a long pause.

"He'll be home soon. I called him."

"Can you at least let me in, so I can explain?" Jude rests his fingers on the door, as if by doing that he can will it open.

"I don't want an explanation." Her voice is nervy. "Just tell me...tell me, that what I'm thinking, isn't true."

Jude swallows the acid laced anxiety, feeling it burn his chest and stomach from within.

"I'm...in love with, Sebastian, Gray." He says quietly, the words simultaneously sand like and rapturous in his mouth.

Silence greets this proclamation, and Jude allows himself to hope that honesty might have struck a truce between himself and his mother.

"How could you do this?" Her voice cracks.

"Mom...this isn't something I did." Jude points out.

"Both of you...he was our friend." His mother insists shakily. "And now he's taken you away from us, away from God and he..." a broken sound drifts through the wood. "He's...corrupting you..." the sound again.

"Mom, please don't cry." Jude’s eyes well up as he murmurs through the polished surface of the painted door. His mother sobs again and he rests his forehead impotently on the wood, unable to offer any kind of comfort from outside of his former home. "Let me in."

"No..." His mother sounds both quivery and unsteady.

"Please." Jude pleads.

If he doubted the possibility of miracles, he is proved wrong. The door snicks open and his mother looks out at him, white faced and red eyed. Jude feels his own eyes burn in sympathetic misery.

"I'm sorry." Is the first thing to fall from his mouth. "I'm so sorry you found out like this."

"You were going to tell us?" Jude hopes he doesn't imagine the lilt of hope, of trust in her voice.

"I'm tired of lying." Jude lets out an unsteady breath. "But I am sorry, I didn't want to hurt you." Anything else is cut off when his mother raises her arms to his shoulders, enfolding him in a limp hug that slowly grows in strength until he's held almost too close to breathe. She pulls back only after a while, face contorted with grief and sadness.

"He was our friend." She says again, the weight of that condemnation dragging it to the ground like a lead weight.

"He loves me." Jude says calmly, because it's true, and he's so tired of knowing it, of feeling it roll off of Seb in waves, and yet having it doubted by everyone else. "And he really does care about you..."

"He's taken our son." Anne cries loudly, voice cutting through Jude like a sharp wire. "He's..." her face twists, fresh tears falling. "...defiled my son."

"Jude, what are you doing here?" Samuel's voice comes from over his shoulder, and Jude turns to face his father.

"I came to...I needed to explain myself."

Samuel looks at him for a long moment.

"I don't want to hear it, and you're upsetting your mother." He steps around him and gently ushers Anne back into the house. He turns on the doorstep and looks down at Jude, eyes hardened with disgust and disbelief. "Don't come here again." He mutters.

And with that, the door to Jude's childhood home is closed in his face.

He goes and picks up Aaron, fighting the whole way not to pull over and cry the way he wants to, but unfortunately, twenty-one is a two way street and he can’t let it happen, not now. He’s not a kid anymore.

He thinks he’s going to be early to pick up his brother, but Aaron is just standing on the sidewalk by the theatre drinking a cup of take out coffee. Jude opens the door to let him in, leaning across the seat to snag the catch.

“How was the movie?”

“I didn’t see one.” Aaron mutters, “I had a book with me anyway.” He looks at his older brother. “What did they do?”

Jude clenches his hands on his thighs.

“I don’t think I’m going to be coming around there for a good long while.” He says. “Maybe forever.”

“Jude...” Aaron’s eyes widen. “But...I’ll still see you right? I mean...I like you, and Sebastian’s ok and...please don’t just disappear, please Jude.”

“Like I would ever let you be that lucky.” Jude is barely holding tears back.”I’ll give you Seb’s address, and you give me yours when you get into Yale...I’ll come up and visit you.”

Aaron reaches across and hugs him hard, and Jude can’t think of any more words to make this better, so he hugs back until his arms ache.

He drops Aaron at the corner of the street, watches Aaron walk away, towards the house he isn't welcome in. His only comfort is the slip of paper in Aaron's pocket – the paper that has Sebastian's address printed on it. Jude's there every weekend anyway.

Aaron is old enough to make his own decisions.

The drive to Sebastian's apartment is markedly less contained. Jude feels his mouth twist without his consent, misery brimming and subsiding in a dark tide. It takes an age to drive to Seb’s apartment and he spends the journey on a knife edge, radio off and hands gripping the wheel like a life line. He gets to Sebastian's home, opens the door with his key and shrugs off his jacket.

"Seb?" he calls into the darkness. No lights are on, unusual for the hour. Jude frowns and hangs his jacket up, walking from the living room into the bedroom, which is also empty and dark.

"Seb?" he calls again, this time with an edge of worry in his voice.

A sliver of light shows under the bathroom door.

Jude still has bad dreams (he will not think – nightmares) about finding Sebastian, half drowned and half frozen in his bathtub; starved and insensible to his efforts to rouse him. He has awful dreams where he lies next to Sebastian's swaddled body for hours, and the man never wakes. Instead Jude knows inexplicably that he is in bed with a corpse.

He can't be blamed for the tremble in his hand, the kick to his heart, as he opens the door fully, showing the stark tile of the bathroom and the figure lying out on it, limp and lifeless. There's blood pooled by his hand.

"Seb!" Jude drops to his knees, hands grasping Seb’s white shirt and jerking the older man upright, into his arms. "Sebastian..."

Blue eyes slide slowly open, looking at him blurrily.

"Jude?"

Jude grabs a towel and moves it to try and staunch Sebastian's bleeding wrist, Sebastian jerks away.

"Jude..." he catches the fearful look in Jude's eyes, looks again at his bloodied hand, and raises his unharmed hand to Jude's face.”Jude...it's fine, I cut myself, look..." he shows the thin scrape on the web of his thumb. "The cistern...has a jagged pipe."

Jude glares at him, fear and relief mixing to create confusion. "Why are you on the floor?"

Sebastian droops back against the wall.

"I think I have stomach flu." He groans unhappily. "I've been in here since I got back...I got tired so I..." he looks slightly embarrassed. "...napped, here."

Jude stares at him a moments longer, then drags him into a hug.

"Oh my God." He sighs to nothing in particular. "Never, scare me like that again."

"I'll try." Sebastian wheezes, somewhere near his clavicle.

Jude releases him.

"Ok, let's get you into bed." He sighs, reaching to help Sebastian to his feet.

"I'm not a child." The older man insists, but accepts the help graciously enough, moving delicately to the bed in the other room. He allows Jude to divest him of his shirt and pants, and to re-clothe him in his pyjamas. Jude wipes the blood from the cut and checks to make sure that it's closed.

Jude tucks the older man in and goes to fetch a glass of water and a bucket to place by the bed. When he gets back he feels Sebastian's forehead.

"You are warm." He says uncertainly.

"I'll be fine." Sebastian insists, weakly. "How are you?"

Jude shakes his head, getting up to remove his own clothes and dress for bed.

"I'm out, as far as they're concerned." He kicks off his jeans. "Out of the closet, out of the family, out of the house..." he strips off his shirt. "Out of their lives." He finishes, sliding into a T-shirt and a new pair of boxers. He slides in beside Sebastian's slack form. "Kinda feels like freedom."

"I'm sorry." Sebastian murmurs.

"It's them, not you – you were great." Jude smiles slightly. "Aaron liked you."

Sebastian seems genuinely pleased.

"Anyway – no talking, time for sleep..." Jude nudges Sebastian pointedly. "Because you are sick, and you look...disgusting."

Sebastian groans in offence.

"Like an extra from ‘Outbreak’." Jude continues, settling in for the night. "Besides, you know – everything looks better in the morning."

Chapter Sixteen

Everything is not better in the morning. It doesn't even look it, owing in part to Sebastian's renewed nausea.

In terms of the actual time it takes for things to be even close to 'better' the effect is actually staggered. No matter how much one might wish for things, health, respite or forgiveness, all things will take their own time to heal.

It takes, for example, a week for Sebastian to recover from the bug he's been nursing. A week of Jude trying to keep the older man’s stubborn ass in bed and full of pain killers and vast amounts of water. Sebastian is a cantankerous invalid, who stubbornly clings to his insistences that he’s well enough to get up, to wash a few dishes and then perhaps reorganise all the things in his storage space downstairs.

“If you don’t stay in that bed.” Jude growls at one point. “I will take all your books outside and burn them.”

Sebastian submits to defeat willingly after that, though that might have something to do with the large quantities of medicine Jude gives him for his fever.

For hours Jude lies next to Sebastian, watching E.R. re-runs and patiently getting Seb through the worst of his vomiting and high temperatures.

“I feel like my brain is in league with an eel in my stomach.” Seb mutters, and Jude takes it as a sign that the older man is well into the grips of fever.

“At least you’re not cheating on your wife with her doctor, who gave you the syphilis that put your wife in a coma.” Jude nudges Seb back to wakefulness and gestures at the television. “That would suck.”

“Anything would be better than the stomach eel.” Sebastian mutters sleepily.

Jude smiles down at him fondly, ruffling his damp hair and watching Seb’s nose scrunch up in his sleep. It’s far more enthralling than any medical drama.

Jude doesn’t have much time for introspection for a while, which is a blessing. Sebastian is in no fit state to do much but loll on the bed and alternately boil and shiver, so he doesn’t question Jude at all. It’s an odd kind of interval to be granted, but Jude is glad of it. He focuses on what’s important, on Seb and getting him well.

Of course, the week after that Jude’s laid up with the same thing.

Sebastian showers away the fug of his own sickness and pads around in a baggy wool sweater and sweat pants, making watery noodle soup with crackers and curling up in bed with Jude.

“Stop mocking me with your health.” Jude groans, pale and limp with groggy sickness. His head hangs over the side of the bed, over a plastic washing-up bowl.

“You mocked me with E.R.” Sebastian points out, deftly taking the remote control from Jude’s unresisting fingers and putting on a documentary about Iron Age bones being dug up in England. “This is my revenge.” Seb intones seriously.

“You’re a monster.”

“You’re a bad influence.” Seb responds, “Now be quiet, rest and learn about human sacrifice.”

Jude moans weakly down at the plastic basin by the bed.

Sebastian watches his documentaries, he makes runs to the corner store to buy Jude bread sticks and crackers and the makings of chicken soup. There’s something principally caring in Sebastian’s nature, and Jude is not so out of sorts that he does not recognise all those years of honed priestly compassion being directed at him. Sebastian tucks blankets around him and shoos Elijah away when the cat attempts to sleep on Jude’s chest. Hot water bottles, tea and ice-water are never far away, and to his credit, Sebastian is just as irrepressible as a sick nurse as he was as a patient.

Jude forgets all about his parents during his sickness, save for one night when he wakes up and feels chilled and damp with sweat. He remembers, with a sudden intensity, exactly how his mother had tended to him when he was much younger, during a spate of sickness when he was around seven. Jude had lain in bed feeling sick and achy, and his mother had brought him glasses of flat lemonade and a fan of crackers on a plate. She had propped him up with two pillows and given him Spiderman comics to read while she did housework. Staying at home had been a strange treat then, with Aaron at school and his Dad at work, Jude had listened to his mother vacuum and chop carrots and celery to make soup with. The house had been weirdly peaceful, lonely and calm, until his brother came home with things to tell him about school, and his Father returned from work and came to check on him.

Jude lies still and tries to make himself think of something else. Sebastian is fast asleep and Jude doesn’t want to wake him. Around the bed, the room looks strange and unfamiliar. It’s Sebastian’s apartment, not his. He feels guilty for thinking it, but it’s true.

He wonders if he’s made a mistake, then remembers how good Sebastian has been to him since he got sick. His mind lurches between guilt and uncertainty until Seb wakes up, almost two hours later.

“Hey...bad night?” Sebastian rubs a hand over his forehead sleepily.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Jude mutters.

Sebastian sits up and looks at him.

“Do you want some tea?”

Jude shakes his head. “I just want to lie here.”

“Understandable.” Seb starts to get up. “I’ll move out to the couch, give you some peace and quiet.”

“Seb.” Jude asks, stopping the older man in the middle of pulling on his grey robe.

“Mmmm?”

“Read to me?” Jude asks shyly.

“If you like.” Sebastian smiles. “I’ll just get some tea.”

Sebastian returns from the kitchen with a mug of tea and selects a paperback at random from a shelf in his bedroom. He looks at the cover idly.

“Ghost story.” He explains, setting the tea on the bedside table and sitting down on the bed with his back propped up against the wall.

“Mmm...good.” Jude closes his eyes and rolls onto his side, pillowing his head on Sebastian’s thigh. Sebastian opens the book to the first page and lays his other hand on Jude’s head, lightly fiddling with locks of sandy hair.

“The mansion was wildly overgrown the summer I returned to it. Only Graham, the hired man, had been retained by my aunt to keep it in good repair, and he found the work too much for him. So it was that when I arrived....”

Jude listens to Sebastian’s tireless voice and allows himself to drift. He returns to another time, another bed, when the words being read to him were different ones, and his certainty was with Sebastian.

It’s a little something like peace; both in the stillness of it and in that it cannot possibly last. By the end of the week, Jude is mostly recovered, and the world outside of Sebastian’s apartment ceases to be held at bay by fever dreams.

Sebastian wakes early and eats breakfast alone on Jude’s seventh day of illness. He tidies the main body of his apartment and puts away the books that he’s been reading to his sick partner, before going in to stir Jude and ask if he wants something to eat.

“So.” Sebastian asks of the heap of bedding that constitutes Jude’s dozing form. “Are you feeling better?”

“The puking’s stopped...so yeah.” Jude mutters from his cocoon of bedding. “My stomach’s just so freaking sore.” Sebastian sets down a mug of weak tea and sits on the side of the bed, smoothing Jude’s hair gently. The younger man murmurs approvingly.

Sebastian allows the silence to sit for a while.

“If you don’t want to talk about it...that’s fine.” Seb whispers. “But it’s been two weeks...I’m worried about you.”

“I told you, I’m out.” Jude groans, moving around is a little beyond him right now, but he kind of wishes he could sit up. “Dad just shut the door in my face, ok?”

“And Aaron...will you still be allowed to see him?”

“Allowed...not so much. But I will. I gave him your address, which he’s keeping a secret.” Jude sighs. “When it came down to it...I still kind of thought they’d get over it, you know? For me.”

“I suppose we want to believe the best of the people we love.”

“Thank you Confucius.” Jude mutters. “But yeah...I guess that’s it.” He wriggles. “Ugh...you know what? I’m graduating in two months, I refuse to die like this.” He struggles into a sitting position, only requiring some slight help from Sebastian. He leans against the older man’s side and submits to having his spine rubbed in soft, soothing circles. He kind of likes being taken care of like this.

“Do you remember what you said a while ago, about our house with the high walls?” Seb says after a while.

“And snipers...I might not have said snipers...” Jude yawns. “But I meant to demand snipers.”

“When you’re better...perhaps we could look at some options. Maybe out of California? Might be nice to gain some distance for a while.”

“You mean run away?” Jude asks sleepily.

“I was thinking more along the lines of breathing space.” Sebastian corrects softly. “For you as well as them.” He traces the untidy fall of Jude’s blondish hair. “I worry about you... the past few months have been...fraught. Perhaps we’re due a break.”

“That’s sounds nice.” Jude’s eyes slip closed and Sebastian lowers him until he’s lying on the bed.

While Jude sleeps, Seb opens the student’s laptop and reads through his final essay of the year, adding notes and corrections in the margins. Occasionally he looks up at the softly snoring young man, he lets his fingers meander thoughtlessly on the keys in front of him.

Seb can’t really put a finger on how he feels, aside from very very lucky.

***

Another two months and a healthy Jude graduates. There’s minimal fanfare, his parents do not attend, but Sebastian is there in the crowd when he collects his diploma, Aaron sends him an unapologetically huge card and a set of His and His mugs as a joke. That does more to set Jude’s spirits soaring than any hard won piece of paper.

Matthew greets him at the side of the stage, clad in an identical blue cap and gown to his own. He’s freshly freckled from spending so much time outside since their classes ended, and appears a lot more relaxed. Jude can sympathise. His own essays were hard enough to get straight, and he’d had Sebastian’s help.

The stage is bedecked in blue bunting and the same banners they used for enrolment day, bearing the name of the college. Jude meets Michael beside a cardboard sign that bids ‘Welcome to all graduates!’.

“Jude, hey!” Matthew shakes his hand, weirdly formally and smiles shyly at him. “How have you been?”

Jude doesn’t even have to think about it. Two months with Seb have made the answer an automatic, “Good.”

“Awesome.” Matthew’s smile notches up. “You know, Father Franklyn asked me about you the other week.”

“I’ll have to write to him.” Jude promises himself that he will. “Things going good for you? Aside from finals I mean.”

Matthew smiles wryly. “Yeah...well, we and Adam are dating properly now.”

Jude remembers a red haired man with freckles and a contagious smile.

“Good for you.” Jude says, and he means it. “About damn time you found someone worth your time.” He grins.

“’bout time you started smiling again.” Matthew counters.

The PA system cranks up, and just like that it’s time for the ceremony to start.

“Don’t be a stranger, ok?” Matthew begs, “I’m going to be in Auburn for a while after this...”

“Actually...me and Seb are moving after graduation.” Jude explains as they move to take their places.

“Where to?” Matthew asks.

“I’ll let you know when we figure it out.” Jude shrugs.

They arrange themselves amongst their peers and wait for their names to be called. Jude finds Sebastian in the crowd and winks at him, too keyed up to risk a wave. Sebastian has a disposable camera and when Dean McAllister finally calls ‘Jude Walker’ and Jude goes up on stage to accept his scroll, Seb snaps a series of pictures.

When these are developed later Jude sends some to Aaron at his brother’s insistence.

He places another set in a manila envelope in his old book bag. Jude writes his parents address in clear letters on the front. He doesn’t really know why he does it, only that he feels he should. The envelope remains unsealed and after a few days he forgets all about it

Chapter Seventeen

After graduation is over and done with, Jude and Sebastian still have no idea where they’re going to settle. In the end they stick a pin in a map and land on Seattle, Washington.

Neither Jude nor Sebastian can think of any objections. Sebastian is the more experienced at apartment hunting, but he shows Jude photographs on the internet and asks his opinion on wood floors and showers versus baths. Jude has no strong feelings about most forms of interior decoration, but he tries to contribute to these discussions as best he can.

Their move is quick and without many complications. Jude helps Sebastian to box up the limited contents of his apartment. They add the storage crates of Jude’s college stuff and hire a truck to drive the whole lot up to their freshly rented one bedroom apartment in Seattle.

It’s a long and tiring process to get all the boxes from the truck up into the apartment itself, but they manage. Jude has never moved to a new place without his parents help before. Sebastian has always moved alone, even when he left home to do his degree and then his training within the church, his parents had only seen him off at the bus terminal.

The apartment is very small and the living room is painted navy blue, it has a breakfast nook and a set of large windows in the bedroom that can be opened to let in the air. It’s a simple little place, and one of the first things they buy for it is an impressive bed, large and square and frameless. Jude picks up a package of white sheets for it on an impulse.

It’s perfect.

“So, what do you want to do?” Jude asks as they sit on the bed, their only piece of furniture thus far, watching the rain run down their enormous windows. Sebastian is currently job hunting, circling want-ads with a green marker and frowning deeply. There is a pizza box on top of the sports section between them, their first meal in their new apartment.

“Whatever they’ll hire me for.” He catches Jude’s concerned look. “I’m not just settling because we need the money. I honestly don’t mind the work, any kind of work.”

Jude snags the paper once Seb is done with it, ringing ads with a red pencil and chewing the end thoughtfully.

That first month they go on so many interviews that Jude starts to dream about forms and stiff backed chairs. Whilst Jude has trouble finding graduate work, Seb eventually lands a position as produce manager in a supermarket. He quite likes organising the department and helping people out when they need it. His satisfaction with the job stems mainly from the amounts of expired or damaged food he gets to take home, some for their own kitchen and some for the soup kitchen run by Saint. Margaret’s, Sebastian’s new church.

Seb still goes to church, now that he’s a little easier with both himself and God. Jude accompanies him sometimes, but after the last few years, he doesn’t think he can forgive Catholicism or really follow it now. It’s probably unfair, but Jude can’t help how he feels, and Seb understands for the most part.

Seb comes home one night in his uniform green waistcoat and unlaces his shoes while Jude dishes vegetable casserole onto plates. He’s getting quite good at cooking for the two of them.

“How was your day dear?” Jude quips, peering into the steaming stew pot and fishing around for another chunk of potato.

“Someone knocked over a pyramid of tinned peaches, afternoon shoppers decimated the grapes on the shelves. Same old.” He sniffs the air appreciatively. “I’ve been thinking about this for the last three hours.” He announces, snatching up his plate as soon as it’s ready.

“Nice to know.” Jude rolls his eyes and joins him at their dinner table, a rickety yard sale acquisition with a yellow oil cloth stapled to it.

“Oh, and, I think I found you a job.” Seb says, chasing slivers of stewed onion with his fork. “If you’re interested that is.”

“Shoot.” Jude waves his fork invitingly.

“I was speaking to Ian from the soup kitchen when he came in for cheese thins. He could do with some help around the place, just temporarily.” Ian was a mechanic who lived a few blocks away and ran a small auto shop. Jude considered the offer for a while, silently chewing it over with his casserole.

Sebastian looks at him speculatively. “You don’t have to Jude.”

“I kinda do.” Jude points out. “The money would be nice, and I’m getting a little bored around here anyway....what would he want me to do?”

Sebastian shrugs. “Basic things.”

“You have no idea.” Jude smirks.

“I don’t know cars.” Sebastian huffs.

So that’s how Jude ends up helping out at Ian’s auto shop temporarily. He changes batteries and cleans cars, and eventually the temporary just kind of disappears from his job description and he stays on, learning the basics and then the harder stuff. Jude wonders why the hell he bothered with college if his degree is this worthless. But then, he does still read a lot, and he enjoyed his three years studying, regardless of what it gets him now.

Jude photo copies his ID badge at the general store around the corner from their apartment. He adds the grainy black and white page to his manila envelope, next to the graduation pictures.

Aaron gets his grades back and is relieved to discover that he passed his final year of high school, as if there was ever any doubt that he would. If there was one thing Jude envied his little brother for it was his ability to score well without needing to do any work. Though of course, Aaron still worked his ass off. Aaron sends Jude a letter telling him that he has a lot of time off that summer and Jude takes the hint and invites him up for a visit. Aaron tells their parents that he’s going away with some friends. Neither Aaron nor Jude knows if their Mom and Dad actually believe this, but they let Aaron go anyway.

Jude picks him up from the bus station, and he’s surprised to find that his brother appears slightly taller, and is growing a small amount of brownish facial hair that he seems ludicrously proud of. It’s only been two months but Aaron is shooting up like a sun starved weed. For his part, Aaron almost doesn’t recognise Jude at all. Jude hadn’t really thought about it, but he’s let his hair, already pushing untrimmed, grow longer and he wears dress shirts and jeans most of the time now instead of tee’s and sweatshirts.

“Look at you, are you actually trying to grow a beard?”

“Shut up.” Aaron says affectionately, dropping his backpack onto the sidewalk and hugging his brother stupid. “How’s Seb?”

Of course, Aaron knows exactly how Sebastian is, thanks to the miracle of email, but he’s unfailingly polite, even now. Jude has no idea what Sebastian and Aaron have to talk about that requires so many emails to be traded between them. Jude suspects they’re exchanging information about him, but he has no proof.

“Worrying his ass off at home, trying to make our couch into a four star guest room.” Jude smirks. “We’re picking up dinner on the way there, pizza ok with you?”

“I’m going to be a college student – so...It kinda should be.” Aaron rolls his eyes at him and they get into the car, the same one Jude’s had since he was in college.

The pretence that this is a normal visit ends about fifteen minutes into the car ride.

“Have you heard from Mom and Dad yet?” Asks Aaron.

“I’d tell you if I had.” Jude mutters.

“I keep telling them that they should, you know, at least call you, to see how you are. They just won’t listen.” Aaron sighs and taps his sneakered feet on the floor.

“Mmm...well, I don’t care. They can do whatever they want.” Jude lies. “Things at home ok?”

“Yeah, I’m going out with Sally Armstrong, she’s from Portland and she’s going to Yale in the fall.”

Jude slits his eyes at him. Aaron blushes.

“We met online, alright? She’s cool.” Aaron blusters. “Besides, we can’t all shack up with former clergymen.”

“Ouch.” Jud lifts his hand from the shifter to clutch his chest, wounded. “Kids today. You’re so vicious.”

Just like that, it’s normal again.

They stop to get their pizzas from a place around the corner from Jude’s apartment. When they reach his and Seb’s apartment, Jude lets himself in and tosses his keys into the clay bowl by the door. It was Seb’s idea to buy the bowl, mainly because Jude kept misplacing his keys. Jude has suspicions that Aaron has been informed of those instances of his idiocy.

“Seb?” He calls out.

“Living room.” Sebastian calls back, he emerges a second later with a stack of sheets in his arms. “Hello Aaron, it’s nice to see you again.” He says, overly formally.

“Good to see you too.” Aaron follows them into the living room and hovers nervously as his brother goes to plate up the pizza and Sebastian returns to making up the couch with fresh sheets. The couch has already been folded out into a bed and there’s a table pulled up next to it with a bedside lamp and a stack of new Sci-fi magazines. All the furniture is from a job lot they bought on eBay. Sebastian catches Aaron looking at the magazines and flushes a little with embarrassed pride.

“I thought you might get bored.” He explains.

“Thank you.” Aaron smiles. He looks sideways at the kitchenette and steps a little closer. “Not just for this...for getting him out of Folsom, taking care of him...just, thanks.”

“It was all I wanted for him.” Seb says sincerely.

Jude returns with plates of mozzarella and pesto pizza. For some reason he’s gotten addicted to fancy pizza and fancier Thai food since they moved to the city. He blames it on Sebastian’s sensibilities towards cheap food.

“Eat it while it’s...moderately congealed.” He advises, and Sebastian smiles at the old joke. Jude’s made it every time they’ve had takeout pizza.

Aaron watches them sit together, Seb folding his slices lengthways and eating them neatly, much to Jude’s amusement. They’re every bit as happy as they were that day in the coffee house, possibly more so now. Jude’s got a gold ring on a chain around his neck, the same ring that appeared shortly before he had to leave home. Aaron correctly assumed at the time that it was a gift from Sebastian. He’s glad of that, that his brother has someone who gives him things, who makes up guest beds for Jude’s family and knows him well enough to leave Jude the crispier side of the pizza.

They decimate the food and talk about Aaron’s plans for college, things he might want to see in Washington while he’s there and what’s been going on for him at school. Aaron asks about their work and what it’s like living in the city and by that time it’s growing late and everyone’s a little sleepy.

“I think...I’m turning in.” Sebastian says apologetically, barely containing a yawn. “Sorry boys.”

“Night, old timer.” Jude half smiles at him and Seb glowers without much heat.

“I’ll see you in the morning Aaron.” Seb says.

“Night.” Aaron waits for Sebastian to go into the bedroom before punching his brother’s arm.

“Ow, what?” Jude demands.

“Marry him.” Aaron demands.

Jude blinks.

“Not what I thought you were going to say.” He admits sheepishly.

“I’m serious Jude. He gets you, he lets you have the crispy pizza...he bought you a freaking key bowl – marry him.” Aaron insists.

“I knew it! He told you I lost my keys.” Jude hisses.

“No, I just know you, and you would never think to buy a key bowl.” Aaron retorts.

“Finishing high school has made you all kinds of weird.” Jude says, dead pan.

“He already gave you a ring.” Aaron points out, testing his theory.

Jude blushes. “It’s not like that.”

“Jude, you’ve been in love with him for five years, you live with each other – I think it’s safe to say it won’t exactly shock him if you want to get married.”

“He won’t want to do it.” Jude mutters.

“But you haven’t asked...”

“He won’t, because he doesn’t think people like us should get married.” Jude gets up from the table and starts picking up plates, carrying them to the kitchenette.

“How is that even possible?” Aaron follows after him with their water glasses.

“He just doesn’t...marriage is being together in front of God and man, and I think maybe Seb doesn’t like the idea of...tempting fate right now.”

“But that doesn’t mean he’d never want to marry you.” Aaron insists.

“In case you haven’t noticed, most places it’s still illegal, and where it isn’t, people still don’t like it. Even Sebastian isn’t all...gung ho about gay weddings...marriage is a tradition, it makes people...uncomfortable.”

“Jude.” Aaron gets his attention. “You’ve been together for half a decade, you’ve only slept with each other and you’re wearing his ring...kind of looks like you’re already hitched to me.”

“It’s not that simple.” Jude protests.

“It would be if you made it that simple.” Aaron points out. “And...it would make you both happy.”

“We are happy.” Jude gestures around them.

“So show everyone else that you are.” Aaron announces, deftly collecting together his net of logic and trapping Jude with its weight.

“College is going to turn you into an evil genius.” Jude huffs.

“It turned you into an adult – miracles are clearly possible.”

Jude throws a pizza crust at him.

They finish tidying the kitchen and then Jude bids Aaron goodnight, leaving him to settle down on the lovingly set up sofa bed as he goes into his own bedroom. The lights are out, predictably, and there’s a soft hump on one side of the bed that indicates Sebastian having been bedded down for quite some time.

Jude strips off his clothes and gets into his pyjama pants, lifting the corner of the duvet and lowering himself into bed. He scoots across the bed and lays an arm over Sebastian’s waist.

“You know...” he whispers into Seb’s ear. “When you eavesdrop on other people’s conversations...you might not want to tread on every creaky floor board between the bed and the door.”

Seb chuckles darkly. “I was curious.” He admits.

“And now my trust in you is shattered.” Jude mutters melodramatically.

“Oh dear.” The other man sighs.

Jude lets it lie for a while, but he can’t sleep with this on his mind.

“So...do you want to talk about it?”

Sebastian stays still for a while.

“Soon – but not yet.” He says quietly, and Jude curls close to him, content for the moment in the possibility.

Chapter Eighteen

“The next day, Jude takes Aaron to the Seattle Aquarium on Pier 59 to have a look around and see the seals. They’re both far too old for it in principle but Jude is willing to admit that he’s having fun. They have pinecone (or pineapple) fish and cowfish, neither of which are as cool as they should be by rights. The underwater dome is awesome however, and Jude’s always kind of thought seals were cute.

After they’ve had their fill of screaming children and sea life, they retreat to the cafe and Jude orders himself some coffee and a piece of chocolate cake, plus some hot chocolate and a bag of chips for Aaron.

“I’m eighteen. I can handle coffee.” Aaron grumbles as they seat themselves at a blue glass table.

“Real eighteen year olds can handle coffee, you are a talkative pixie when caffeinated.” Jude points out, stirring several sugar packages into his own cup. “At least you stopped piling on the cream and candy.”

“We all have to grow up some time.” Aaron sighs “Your time will come.”

“Yesterday college had ‘made an adult’ out of me, what changed?”

“Ten minutes ago you were goading the sturgeon with creepy voices.” Aaron glares at him “It was embarrassing.”

“You’re embarrassing.” He retorts automatically. “And I can still take that drink back you know.”

Aaron downs half the contents of his cup in a show of defiance, and burns his tongue.

Jude laughs into his over sugared coffee.

“So, what do you want to do next?” Jude asks once Aaron has stopped whining about his reduction in taste buds.

“I don’t know, to...just, hang out maybe?” Aaron asks.

“I thought you wanted to see the city?”

“I didn’t come here to visit Seattle, I came to visit you – I can do that whether you’re teasing fish or we’re at the CN tower.”

“That’s in Toronto.” Jude says scornfully. “You’re thinking of the space needle.”

“I was making a point! Jesus.” Aaron laughs despite himself.

“You were making it obtusely.” Jude smirks at him.

“Did Sebastian teach you that word?” He raises his eyebrows.

“Did Mom buy those pants?” Jude retorts.

The mention of their Mother is sobering to both of them. Jude looks instantly taken aback by his own words, he glares down at the crumpled sugar packets, ignoring the airy, coffee scented room around them.

“Jude?” Aaron asks.

“Yeah?” his brother snaps back to attention.

“Do you want to take me to the space needle?”

Jude grins.

“Sure.”

The space needle is exactly as tall as it was when Jude visited it with Sebastian during their first month in the city. He’s never seen it with Aaron before though, which makes the trip much different, because his younger brother has to stop and read every single information board and then relay the facts to him.

“Hey, did you know the space needle is 138 feet wide?”

“Did you know it has twenty five lightning rods?”

“Jude are you listening?” Aaron pouts.

“Yes.” Jude snaps out his deliberations over what Sebastian is cooking for dinner. They’ve got a whole food and movie thing planned for that evening and frankly, Jude is looking forward to sitting down and soaking up an action flick.

Aaron looks out of the observation deck window.

“I wish Mom and Dad would come see this.”

Jude sidesteps his knee jerk reaction, which is to ask why Aaron is bring that up now, and goes instead for, “Mom hates heights.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Aaron leans against the railing that goes along the length of the glass panel. “They’d be proud of you, the apartment, the job...”

“Just if Seb wasn’t living there too, right?” Jude scuffs the floor. “I made my peace with it when they didn’t turn up for graduation.”

“I don’t think you did.”

“Hey look, Mount Rainier”

“Jude?”

“Yes, ok, I’m not over it.” Jude rests his hands on the railing and looks down at the streets below. “But I already did everything I can think of to make it better – I tried hiding it, telling them, leaving them be...and nothing’s working.”

“Give it time.”

“Get a job at Hallmark.” Jude slants his eyes to look at his brother pointedly. “The only thing time is going to do is kill them off.” He sighs. “Come on, let’s get back to Seb. I promise once we get down to the movie I’ll be less of a downer.”

“I’ve missed you bumming me out.” Aaron smirks cheekily.

“For that I’m demoting you from couch to the floor.” Jude slaps the back of Aaron’s head and steers him towards the elevator.

“And waste Sebastian’s time getting it ready?”

Jude knows he’s beaten.

When they get back to the apartment, the whole place smells rather ominously of smoke. The usually light coloured and airy hallway is fogged with blue-ish smoke and they can hear Sebastian muttering to himself in the kitchen.

“Seb?” Jude calls.

“Busy.” Comes the worrying answer.

“I’m going to...yeah...” Jude darts into the kitchen, leaving Aaron to peruse the DVD’s beside the TV.

“You’re supposed to take that off.” Comes Jude’s irritated voice.

“You didn’t tell me that.” Huffs Sebastian.

“Because it says so on the box.”

“Where does it...oh, alright, perhaps I was mistaken.”

Aaron fights a laugh.

“Just...go find a takeout menu, I’ll finish...interring dinner” Sebastian emerges from the kitchen nook looking distinctly chastened. “I am not, as it might seem, completely without skill in the kitchen.” He assures Aaron, “However, tonight’s menu was not a success.”

“Don’t worry about it; come help me pick a movie.”

Aaron and Sebastian crouch beside the entertainment unit and debate the various merits of ‘Die Hard’ over ‘Lethal Weapon’ and ‘Sherlock Holmes’ over ‘Black Hawk Down’. Eventually they decide on the latter, because its action packed enough for Jude without lacking anything else to entertain the two of them.

Jude emerges from the kitchen and takes the menu from his partner, dialling for a delivery of Chinese so familiar he barely needs the leaflet.

They spend the evening watching movies and eating noodles with curried shrimp out of the small card containers they come in. The two Walkers use forks while Seb deftly handles his chopsticks. Aaron settles into the couch and falls asleep between the two older men at around midnight. Jude lets Aaron’s head lean on his shoulder without complaint, exchanging a smile with Sebastian over his brother’s mop of brown hair.

***

Aaron’s trip to Washington passes in a blur. It seems like no time at all until Jude’s packing him off on a bus home, loaded with souvenirs and promises to write and come back during the Christmas break.

Sitting on a bench by the bus station, long after Aaron has departed for Folsom, Sebastian shares his hot coffee and cookie with Jude and they look at the uninspiring grey steel and glass building. They’re both wearing scarves and jackets because even though the calendar says it’s only just nearing fall, the weather seems to think differently.

“I miss classical architecture.” Seb grouses.

“Church nut.” Jude smirks.

“The European churches are excellent, even discounting the Vatican and the great cathedrals, the provincial buildings really are quite amazing.” Sebastian informs him with no trace of irony.

“Did you ever go to the Vatican?” Jude asks.

“Once, I was nine, and I remember it being glorious.” Sebastian closes his eyes and tilts his head to the sky. “There’s so much...opulence, but it has innocence as well...It’s hard to describe.”

“Maybe we could go there one day.” Jude says, looking idly down at his hands. “You could show me around the city.”

“I’d enjoy that.”

“You just like teaching me stuff.” Jude mutters. “I swear, it feels like I’m still in school.” He’s smiling even as he says it.

“I’m improving you.” Sebastian declares haughtily.

Jude laughs outright.

They get home in time to catch the morning mail, and for a change it holds something other than bills or pay checks. It’s an invitation to Matthew and Adam’s engagement party.

He shows it to Sebastian.

“They’re moving fast.” Seb murmurs. “They’ve only known each other a year, haven’t they?”

Jude shakes his head.

“Adam was a Teacher’s Assistant, Matthew’s known him since our first year of college, off and on – he helped out with a lot of his classes.” He shrugs. “That’s four years altogether, now.”

“I see.” Sebastian says, and Jude’s sure that he does, somehow.

The engagement party is in Auburn, Matthew’s home town, so Jude makes sure to get time off work for that weekend so he can drive himself and Sebastian all the way over there for the event. They haven’t been to Auburn, or anywhere else in California, since just after Jude’s graduation. Nothing much seems to have changed there anyway.

Sebastian has the same suit he wore for the gradation in a garment bag on the back seat, Jude’s new shirt and dress pants pressed alongside it under the plastic. The radio plays a mix of old country songs and foreign rock all the way there, and the sun bursts through the cloud banks intermittently to light up the road ahead of them.

Matthew is incandescent with happiness. That’s the first thing Jude thinks as he meets his college friend on the gravel outside the house. Matthew is still blond and tanned and boyish, but the grin on his face is one hundred percent adult happiness. He greets Sebastian warmly, shaking his hand and inviting them into the house for drinks and canapés with his family and the rest of his friends.

Neither Jude nor Sebastian have eaten a canapé in their entire lives. Though they both agree that the salmon pate is very nice.

The house is nice, the lower floor done entirely in pale green and white wallpaper with a pattern of leaves. All the furniture in the living room and conservatory is white cane, the tables glass topped and perfectly round. There are potted palms everywhere.

Jude introduces Sebastian to Adam, as redheaded and vibrant as he was when they were in college. Despite being a TA back then, Adam is still only twenty-five, and for the first few minutes of their conversations keeps shooting looks between Jude and Sebastian. Jude knows this stage well, all of their co-workers, upon meeting the two of them together, went through a moment of cataloguing Seb’s crow’s feet and Jude’s fresh faced graduate appearance. Eventually they all got over it, but it was still awkward during the moment itself.

“So, you guys live in Seattle?” Adam asks politely.

“Since just after graduation.” Jude nods. “It rains a lot.” He adds, keeping the subject matter on the ‘elderly aunt’ side of neutral.

“Did you meet Sebastian there?” Adam asks, revealing that Matthew has respected Jude’s privacy and not mentioned anything of his and Seb’s relationship. Jude’s kind of torn about that, relieved but slightly wrong footed. He doesn’t like the idea that Matthew feels the need to protect what really isn’t a secret at all.

“No.” Jude forces his tone to remain light. “We met in California, before I went to college, actually.”

If Adam does the mental math, there is no sign of dismay on his face, and the rest of the conversation passes smoothly.

Matthew’s parents greet them amiably enough and Sebastian ends up sitting on one of their white cane chairs and talking to Matthew’s father about the Democrats. Jude’s happy to leave them to it.

“Jude Walker?” A voice says behind him, just as he’s helping himself to another glass of orange juice over by the largest potted fern he has ever seen. He turns to find Jacob Fellows behind him, a medium height, brawny guy from his high school graduating class. He had also been, as Jude recalls, something of a dick, to the extent that Jude had gotten into a fight with him over Jacob’s constant bullying of Aaron.

“Jacob.” Jude paints a smile over his face. “God, it’s been...what? Four years?”

“About that.” Jacob agrees with a smirk. He’s wearing a suit with a dark green shirt, open at his thick neck. His hair is dark and cut short and Jude has the vague feeling that Jacob has dyed it since high school. “How have you been?”

“Good. I live in Seattle now.” Jude is fully aware that he has not amounted to a huge amount, having gotten his English Lit degree and started working as a glorified mechanics assistant. He still isn’t going to lose to Jacob Fellows.

“Ahh...couldn’t get away from the folks fast enough?” Jacob says, with far too knowing a glint in his eye for Jude’s comfort. His suspicions are confirmed when Jacob smiles with the feigned sympathy of a shark and adds, “I heard about that by the way.”

“Really?” Jude asks tonelessly.

“Mmm...you were the talk of Folsom after you left. Kind of a big deal, you running off with an older man, with a priest no less. You were always the centre of attention.” Jacob’s smile widens, he’s really enjoying this, taking down Jude like this in public, avenging himself on a jock. “It’s weird nobody knew while we were still at school.” He muses, “That Jude Walker was stepping out with the new padre...though of course no one would of suspected you of being...that way.”

Jude’s two seconds from abandoning propriety and punching Jacob in the face, thus ruining the party, when Sebastian looms over Jacobs shoulder.

“Excuse me.” he says politely. “Jude, Matthew would like to speak to you before the party ends...I can take over for you with your friend if you’d like.”

“Great.” Jude smiles. “Jacob, this is Sebastian, my boyfriend. Seb, this is Jacob, a mouthy idiot I went to school with.” He pats Jacob wryly on the arm. “Let’s never do this again.”

Jude goes in search of Matthew.

Sebastian glowers at Jacob. “So, Jacob...” Jude hears just before he gets out of earshot. “Where is it that you attend mass?”

He’s using his official voice, Jacob hasn’t got a chance.

When Jude finds Matthew out on the patio, which is also bedecked with potted ferns and white cane furniture, Matthew presses a glass of champagne into his hand and grins at him. Matthew it turns out is on the same wavelength as Aaron, as only the psychotically happy and newly engaged could be. Jude has no idea why his teenage brother is acting like a happily engaged man, but he’s always thought Aaron was too mature for his own good.

“So, when are you and Seb going to get official?” Matthew beams.

“Not you too.” Jude groans.

Matthew takes a seat on a cane couch with a fat, green cushion, overlooking the rosy pebbles of the desert style garden. He pats the cushion beside him and Jude sinks down onto it petulantly.

“My brother’s already given me the speech, it’s still not happening.”

“It’d make you happy.” Says Matthew, giving him a knowing look. “Give you a sense of permanence, of stability...”

“We have an apartment, we have compatible working hours and Saturday morning sex. We’re committed, we’re stable.” Jude proclaims to the empty patio.

“Come on.” Matthew controls his laughter and speaks gently. “It’s a great feeling, plus, I’ve never known anyone more pathologically ready for a monogamous, committed relationship.”

“Thanks?”

“You’re welcome.” Matthew sips his champagne and looks out at the spiky palms and different coloured pebbles before them. “I’m just trying to look out for you. I get that we haven’t seen each other since graduation...but you’re kind of my best friend.”

“I know, I should have visited.” Jude looks down at his hands distractedly. “It’s just work and setting up the apartment...”

“Well, drop me an email now and again, I like hearing about you being happy.” Matthew grins. “Makes listening to all your whining at college worthwhile.”

“Nice.”

“I’m lovely, and don’t you forget it.” Matthew smirks and then glances at the conservatory behind them. “Anyway...I have uncles to thank and about a million paper plates to clean up, so I’m going to get to it.” He stands up and smoothes down his tan pants. “See you at the wedding ok? Buy me something nice.”

“You’re getting coupons.” Jude grunts, but he’s smiling to himself as Matthew goes back into the house. The patio doors swing open again soon after, allowing Sebastian to emerge into the fading evening light.

“Almost everyone’s gone now.” He says, coming to sit beside Jude on the squeaky cane seat.

“Even Jacob?”

“He was exceptionally unpleasant.” Sebastian muses. “I think, all things considered, that I landed the best member of your high school year.”

“Look at you, joking about the age difference.” Jude nudges him in the ribs. “Growth.”

“Indeed.” Sebastian leans his temple against Jude’s shoulder. “It seems to matter less each time someone else balks at it.”

“Well, I’m planning on aging quickly and without grace. So we’ll look the same age in no time at all.” Jude says, leaning his head down to rest it against the soft dark hair on his partners head. “We should get to the hotel, leave them to clear up here.”

Sebastian follows Jude back through the house and bids goodbye to Matthew and Adam at his side. They drive the short way across town to the ‘Sleep Stop’ hotel, a non-descript and middle of the range building. It has single and double rooms with en suite bathrooms, no pool, and no vibrating mattresses. Jude checks them in and then helps Sebastian to bring their overnight things up from the car.

They lie facing each other on the strange, clean sheeted bed, the yellowish light of a street lamp filtering through the window onto them.

Jude traces his fingers over Sebastian’s cheek sleepily. Sebastian strokes Jude’s side.

“They looked happy didn’t they, Adam and Matt?”

“Mmmm.” Seb sighs.

“They’re getting married soon.” Jude presses.

“I know, Adam told me.” Seb mutters.

“So...” Jude swallows nervously and starts again, cheek pressed into the cool, scratchy sheet. “I was thinking today, about what Aaron said...and Matthew, he kind of had the same idea, about us. That it was more of a question of ‘when’...as opposed to ‘if’.”

Sebastian sits up.

“I know they’re expecting it of us.” He says shortly.

“That’s not my point.”Jude sits up as well, one hand falling to rest on Seb’s knee. “All I’m saying is...I’ve been thinking about it, and...I think it’s what I want for us.”

“I still want to wait.” Sebastian says softly.

“For...” When no reply is forthcoming Jude continues, “We live together, I’ve loved you since I was sixteen, and we’ve been together since I was seventeen...even with the time we weren’t, I still felt for you – and now is the time you choose to say we have to wait?”

Sebastian shakes his head, like Jude doesn’t understand.

“Tell me why.” Jude asks. “Is it to do with the age thing? Or what you believe in...what?”

“I think...” Sebastian puts forth. “That it would be...sad.”

Jude is frozen. He wasn’t expecting that.

“My family are gone.” Sebastian continues. “We have no friends to speak of, beyond Matthew and Father Franklyn, whom I haven’t seen in a long time....and...”

“And my parents.” Jude finishes heavily.

“It would feel...small and lonely.” Sebastian tells him. “Marriage is...or is should be, about celebrating how you feel for someone else. Celebrating in front of the people you know and the people who love you.” Sebastian fidgets. “We wouldn’t have that, and I didn’t want it to upset you.”

“So you’d rather I just thought you didn’t want to marry me?” Jude nudges his head against the older mans. “I want to marry you, stupid. I had actually considered the possibility of having guests.”

Sebastian looks tentatively hopeful.

“We have your friends from work, Ian from the shop, Aaron can come down and bring a guest...we’ve got Father Franklyn and Matthew and Adam. That’s tons of people.” He argues. Jude wraps his arms around his partner and lowers them both to the bed, kissing him slowly, sweetly, into the mattress. He pulls away after a few seconds. “All you have to do, is say yes, when I ask.”

“I will.” Sebastian promises.

Chapter Nineteen

“The next day, after checking out of the hotel, the two men drive over to see Father Franklyn. Both Jude and Sebastian are well rested, dressed casually in dark jeans and button down shirts. Sebastian doesn’t say anything, but Jude smiles to himself over the resemblance between them. Their clothing makes him look older, and Sebastian appears surprisingly slim and youthful for his extra years. Jude has Seb’s ring on a chain around his neck; a necessity since he started work at the garage. When sleeping he keeps in on the bedside table, it is the first thing he sees upon waking, unless of course he opens his eyes to Sebastian instead.

The church in Auburn has not changed outwardly; still the same squat rectangular building with its large, square tower. The large copper cross on the roof of the tallest section has been cleaned perhaps, but aside from that it is as Jude remembers it. This is the building in which he was reunited with Sebastian. Jude has a sharp and surprising longing to be married here. He quells it. There is no sense in wishes that will cripple his happiness. They could not be married here.

Father Franklyn, still short and blond and now grinning radiantly, meets them by the stoup where he is replenishing a stack of religious pamphlets.

“Sebastian!” He draws Seb into a brief but emotional embrace. Jude wonders how two men so diametrically opposed could have become such strong friends. “I just received your last letter, how are you both?” Not waiting for an answer the priest beckons them into the church proper. “Come to my office, I’ll make us some tea.”

Jude slides his hand into Sebastian’s and smiles easily. What a difference time has made. Jude would not have thought the last time he was here, that one day he would walk hand in hand with Seb with the blessing of a priest.

Father Franklyn settles them in the two comfy chairs facing his own across the desk and then disappears. The promised tea is produced in the kitchen, a small room adjoining his office often used by the church goers for functions. Father Franklyn runs an inclusive and active church, as Sebastian well remembers.

Jude turns to his partner while they wait.

“Can we invite him?” Jude asks, with puppyish enthusiasm.

“Now?” Sebastian raises a dark eyebrow. “You haven’t asked me yet.”

“But I’m going to, but I have to find a ring and then learn how to hide jewellery in cake without you choking on it...it’ll take time. This way, we can do it in person.”

“You have serious trouble with delayed gratification.” Sebastian tuts.

Jude swats at Seb’s leg.

“Not in church.” He admonishes. A year ago they would not be joking so lightly. A year ago. Jude’s grin widens as he wonders what the next year will bring. Whether another three hundred and sixty five days of happiness will erase a few more years of deprivation and guilt from Sebastian’s mind.

Father Franklyn returns to them with a black plastic tray on which sit three white cups of tea and a matching plate of pink wafer biscuits.

“I cannot abide coffee, as you know.” The priest says conversationally to Seb, “But the biscuits are not my doing, they were supplied by one of my parishioners.” He sits down and selects one dubiously. “They are rather festive.”

Jude accepts a worryingly bright pink biscuit.

“So, what’s new in Auburn?” he asks.

Father Franklyn shrugs.

“Nothing much, a few people are not happy about me extolling the virtues of a tolerant attitude towards our fellows.” He taps the stale pink wafer on the side of his cup. “There is in fact significant pressure for me to either, ‘put up and shut up’ as it were, or resign my post and leave the church.”

Sebastian is wide eyed.

“That’s insanity. You’re an admirable priest, in the last few years alone you’ve proven...”

“It is kind of you to say so.” Franklyn holds up a hand. “But I have...mixed feelings about these mutterings. Perhaps they have a point.”

“You can’t be serious.” Jude crumbles the wafer in his hand without meaning to.

“I have felt, for a while, that perhaps my views do not gel exceptionally well with those of Catholicism as a whole.” Father Franklyn sips his tea quietly. “In my earlier days I thought I could change the way some Catholics reacted to...oh, all kinds of things, homosexuality is only one of them. What of marriage? Of women and sex? Abortion...some take a hard line in those respects, and it doesn’t have to be that way. I want to be proud of all of my people, not have our name spoiled by a few.”

“So, why give up? Why not keep fighting?” Jude demands.

“Fighting takes a great deal of strength. Fighting blind faith or arrogance takes a sight more. I fear as I get older I begin to lose my ferociousness. There are other priests, younger, fresher, and they are the ones who are going to save us. Why not clear a path for them?” He says, shrugging and selecting another wafer to break into pieces meditatively.

“Father, please reconsider.” Sebastian implores, and Jude aches to see him so stricken.

“Can you honestly say Sebastian, that you miss the priesthood?” Franklyn chides.

Sebastian has the grace to flush.

“I did not enter it for the right reasons.” He points out.

“And I do not mean to make you feel badly about that. Neither have I decided fully yet. But I’ll ask you to respect my decision when I do.” The priest’s voice is gentle but firm, and Sebastian bows his head slightly in ascent.

“Just remember that we wouldn’t be here without you.” Jude says. “And...well, we have something to ask you.”

“Something of a lighter nature, I hope.” Father Franklyn smiles.

“Yes.” Jude touches Sebastian’s hand where it rests on the arm of the chair. Sebastian relaxes and smiles his small, shy smile. “We’re going to get married.”

Father Franklyn’s crow’s feet bordered eyes crinkle in delight.

“That is excellent news. When?” he asks.

“Well, I haven’t asked yet.” Jude explains.

“I feel he may have some slight inkling.” Franklyn confides, with a sly look at Sebastian.

“I mean...I want to do it properly, and take my time working out exactly when I want to do it. I just wasn’t sure he’d say ‘yes’ until recently.”

“Ahhh.” Father Franklyn nods, understanding the conflict that his old friend must have experienced. “But you said you wanted to ask me something?”

“We’d like you to come to the wedding...when we have it.” Jude shifts nervously in his seat. “Not...you know, in an official way. Just as our friend.”

“I’d be honoured.” Franklyn smiles. “And if I do decided to lay my duties aside...I will remain proud of you two. To have made someone’s happiness possible...it’s a reward for a great many things. I’ll look forward to meeting everyone there.”

Jude has no response to that. He sips his tea and feels a soft glow of happiness. He’s forgotten what it feels like to be accepted by someone who really matters. Aaron and Franklyn are the only people really close to himself and Seb who take pleasure in the flourishing of their relationship. Something of his introspection must show on his face, because the priest looks at him with genuine pity.

“I’m sorry...I should have asked about your parents.” At Jude’s look he elaborates. “Matthew told me what happened with them...I knew that’s why you moved but...”

“It’s nothing. You don’t have to apologise.” Jude looks deliberately at the black tray with its poinsettia pattern. “I should really get used to it.”

“I wish you didn’t have to.” Franklyn looks into Jude’s eyes and the younger man reads sincerity in his level gaze.

“Not much anyone can do about it.” Jude shrugs off the familiar aching memory of the door closing in his face. He remembers the envelope at home, full of the things he’s done with his year away from home. More than anything he wants to show it to his parents, prove that he’s not bad, that Sebastian is not a monster.

Seb’s hand tightens over his fingers, squeezing with consolation. Jude manages a small smile.

“So...where can I get an engagement ring in town?”He asks the priest.

Franklyn smiles.

“’Melissa’s’, downtown is responsible for most of the couples that come here to get married. I hear she’s excellent.” The priest smiles. “Though I’m not myself a judge of fine jewellery.”

“Neither is Jude.” Sebastian says, with a slight smirk.

“You’re lucky I can only afford mediocre jewellery at best.” Jude sighs.

“Well, I wish you luck with the search, and with the wedding.” The unspoken ‘and with your parents is tagged onto the end’, “I’ll expect my invitation soon.”

Jude groans. “So much to do.”

Sebastian smiles to himself, he has nothing to fear in the way of organisational nightmares. After all, he has practice with getting large numbers of people to attend events promptly.

***

Ring shopping is a nightmare.

Having looked through the stock at ‘Melissa’s’ in Auburn, not to mention three other stores once they returned to Seattle, Jude is stuck. Of all the things he considered when he discovered his sexuality; the sin, the disapproval of his family, never having children, being in a full time relationship with a man, Jude had never considered planning a wedding.

He had certainly never imagined that choosing a ring could be this difficult. After all, it would have happened whether he was straight or gay, and he’d assumed it would be easy. Diamond on a hoop of some kind of precious metal, how hard could that be? In the case of finding a ring for Sebastian, it turned out that it was very hard, almost impossible.

What kind of engagement ring should he buy a man? Should it have a stone in it, or would plain be best? What about an inscription? Patterns? The caret, metal and clarity, cut and colour of a stone, should one be desired? Jude was starting to have trouble even passing a jewellery store without breaking out in a cold sweat of indecision. He couldn’t help but wonder if the employees took him for a potential thief, looking as nervous and intent as he did.

Jude had even gone online, and a lot of the designs that came up on his ‘gay engagement ring’ search were...inappropriate, to say the least. He doubted that Seb would appreciate a pride ring with a zircon ‘male’ symbol on its band. Jude didn’t think he’d appreciate it either. At this point he was considering going with the ‘we’re unconventional, we don’t need rings’ approach, but that would be giving up.

Jude was scouring through yet more possible rings online, scowling at the tiny images that had all started to look the same, when Seb came home from work.

“Sticky children.” Seb begins, toeing off his shoes in the hallway. “Should be wrapped in saran wrap before leaving the house.”

“I hear congress is actually looking at that.” Jude mutters distractedly.

Sebastian comes into the living room, looking uncomfortable in his uniform. Jude abandons the laptop.

“Would you like some chicken salad? I didn’t cook anything big, sorry.” He moves sheepishly into the kitchen area and takes both salad and cold, garlic crusted chicken breasts from the fridge.

“That would be perfect.” Seb goes into the bedroom to change his clothes, calling out, “How’s the search for the one ring going?”

Jude was beginning to regret introducing him to the delights of Tolkien.

“Slowly, dishearteningly and confusingly.” He surmises, slicing the chicken breasts diagonally and arranging the pieces on top of dishes of green and purple salad leaves. He begins to cut up tomatoes. “It’s like all the stereotypes of gay men having excellent taste were invented to falsely engender hope that their rings wouldn’t be ebayed rejects from MR T.”

Sebastian emerges from the bedroom, still fiddling with the last button on his blue and white pinstriped shirt.

“Not inspiring I take it?”

“Not in the least.” Jude passes him a plate and they slide into their seats, picking up cutlery and setting to their salads.

“I could help.”

“No, I want it to be a surprise.” Jude insists, spearing rocket with his fork.

“From the sounds of things I’ll definitely be surprised.” Seb smirks into his food.

“You could off some suggestions.” Jude says after a while.

Sebastian thinks for a moment.

“Have you considered looking at straight engagement rings?”

Jude nods.

“They’re too delicate, even with your girly fingers, it would still look weird.”

Sebastian ignores the slight on his hands and thinks for a while longer.

“Different types of rings?” he offers.

“Like what? Wedding bands?” Jude’s face screws up in thought. “But we’d still need those for the ceremony and then you’d have to wear two...” he trails off.

“What is it?” Seb asks.

“It’s nothing.” Jude attacks his salad anew. Seb doesn’t need to draw on his knowledge of Jude for this, a stranger would know something was wrong.

“Jude...if something’s bothering you...”

“I don’t want to make a big deal out of it.” Jude mutters.

“I do. If it’s troubling you.” Sebastian looks at Jude’s hunched shoulders and defensively lowered head with concern. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

Jude fiddles with his fork.

“It’s just...I thought, my Mom...she...her engagement ring and her wedding band fit together, they made one ring.” He shrugs as if to indicate that it means nothing, but Seb knows that to Jude mentioning his family was painful, that thinking of them was likewise, painful. “That would have been kind of perfect, you know?”

Sebastian gets out of his seat and rounds the table, sliding his arms around Jude gently. Jude abandons his adult mannerisms and appearance, twisting in the ex-priest’s arms as if he is eighteen again, burying his face in Seb’s shoulder.

“I know, you miss them.” Sebastian strokes Jude’s sandy brown hair lightly. “It’s ok, you know I understand...I’d never hold it against you.”

Jude pulls away a little.

“I just feel like, maybe I should stop caring about it. Like it’s something I can get over. But Franklyn was right...it’s just...”

“It’s not a natural thing.” Sebastian says quietly. “Losing a parent through sickness, that’s natural, but I suppose this must be such a strange thing for you.” He holds Jude gently. “Perhaps we should have stayed in Folsom...or at least closer by.”

“This isn’t your fault.” Jude presses his palms to Sebastian’s waist. “You know I love living here, with you...but, I can’t forget that they’re out there...that they don’t care what’s happened to me, or care that I miss them.”

“They care.” Sebastian says after a while. “They just can’t get past what happened.” He cups Jude’s face, touching his cheek lightly, “But they do care. How could they not?”

They sit until Jude’s upset is quietened, until it is truly dark outside and they have to move apart to turn on lights. Sebastian makes hot ginger tea, and they sit on the couch to drink it, Jude half lying down, his head against Seb’s shoulder and his legs up on the seat.

“Take a look with me.” Jude asks, and Seb picks up the laptop and turns it on.

They look through some spectacularly ugly rings. Rings that are too gaudy, too symbolic, too sickening and too cute. Jude comes back to himself as they laugh over them and sip their warm tea. Finally, Seb starts to look through the tabs for types of ring, engagement, wedding, anniversary, class, trinity and promise.

“Wait, give it here.” Jude takes the computer and sits with it in his lap, so Sebastian can’t see. He clicks on ‘promise rings’. He’s confronted with a page of slim silver bands with tiny diamonds and engravings about loving Jesus. Jude selects ‘men’ from the scrolling list at the side of the pictures. The page changes, and suddenly its right there.

The ring.

Tungsten carbide metal, a sort of silvery, steel like colour, with laser engraving all around the outside of the band. The pattern is simple, a wide dark stripe around the centre of the ring with almost celtic equal armed crosses spaced evenly around it, separated by a small circle and two smaller, less ornate crosses. It sounds stupid, but it actually reminds him of Sebastian, solid and simple, but impressive. Jude adds it to his cart with only a moment’s hesitation over the price. He can afford it, barely.

“Did you find what you wanted?” Seb asks, noticing Jude’s excited half smile.

“Wait and see.” Jude closes the laptop once checkout is completed, shifting so that he can bring Sebastian down to lie against his chest.

“Thank you, for before.” He sighs, sifting his fingers through Seb’s dark curls.

“You don’t have to thank me.” Seb says tenderly. “We pick each other up, that’s the point of this.”

Jude looks up at him.

“Will you marry me?” He asks.

“You don’t have a ring yet.” Sebastian teases.

“You already gave me one.” Jude says seriously. “Will you marry me, Sebastian.”

“Of course I will.” Seb smiles up at him.

The ring arrives two days later in a brown padded envelope. Sebastian is holding the package when Jude gets home from work. Jude takes it and opens it to reveal the small blue velvet box that the ring is nestled in. He opens the box and offers the ring to the older man.

Sebastian puts it on and Jude kisses him, allowing himself to be led to the bedroom to consummate the engagement.

Later, after Sebastian has gone to sleep, Jude takes a photo of the ring off of the website, prints it and adds it to his envelope.

Chapter Twenty

Jude debates with himself over whether or not to send a letter to his parents. He’s sitting at the dining table, biro in hand and a fresh legal tablet in front of him. There are words he wants to say, words that he hadn’t been able to say a year ago, words that came to his panicked mind as he stood there staring at the door that barred his way into his parent’s home.

There are also the things he wants to say now.

The apartment around him is lit up with the afternoon sunlight. Were he in the bedroom, Jude would admire the rectangles of yellow light that are playing over the freshly made sheets of his and Sebastian’s bed. As it is, Jude’s eyes occasionally lift to the stuffed book case that stands to the right of the television. The set of shelves is one that Sebastian rescued from an alley behind a building down the street. All their books are here, some orderly, some jammed in lengthways on top for lack of space. On the top of the unit is a plain blue glass vase, a housewarming present from their landlord, probably left by the previous tenants. The apartment smells slightly of coffee from breakfast, but also of a cinnamon Christmas candle that Sebastian saved and now burns in the evenings when they curl up on the couch.

How can he record all of this for his parents? How can he make them understand?

Dear Mom and Dad...

Jude has begun this letter ten times on paper, and another hundred in his head. Each time he gets to this point and his thoughts become a series of questions; how are you? How could you? Do you forgive me? Do you expect me to forgive you? Do you miss me? Do you still hate me? Now he writes with exaggerated care, watching the blue biro turn black on the yellow page.

Dear Mom and Dad,

Do you remember when I was younger, and you’d come looking for me if I wasn’t inside by the time it got dark out? How you’d shout from the porch and wait for me to come running? I do. I think more than anything I expected the best from you because of that. I thought that whatever I did you’d still want me to come home to you.

It’s been a year and I’m in a strange city, in a strange state, because you couldn’t even speak to me when you found out that I was in love.

Such a stupid thing to hate me for, something I couldn’t control, that was in the end not something that would hurt me. I fell for a good man, and you turned me away.

Have you changed your minds? I don’t know. Do you speak about me, or just avoid my name? Does my room still have my things in it? Are there pictures of me in the house? Do your friends ask about your eldest son?

And if they do, what do you tell them?

When people at work here ask me about my parents, I tell them that we don’t speak. I tell them the truth, that you can’t abide with my decision to be with Sebastian. I don’t say you’re already gone, mostly because, I’m afraid that one day it’ll be true. That you both will have gotten old and died without me having a chance to explain to you why what I did was worth it.

Or without me even knowing that it’s happened.

Jude rips the page from the legal tablet and looks down at his smudgy, angry words. They’re the work of his seventeen year old self, the boy who had agonised over his attraction to his priest before he’d even fully understood it, before he’d known that it was returned. Angry, confused and ready to feel the worst about any given situation. He didn’t want to present that side of him to his parents, not after all this time.

Jude takes a moment to think of the things he’s placed in his envelope. The things he’s proud of. Taking up his pen again he begins to write.

Dear Mom and Dad,

It’s been a year since I left you, or since you made me leave. I don’t blame you, that’s probably the strangest thing, even though you might think I don’t understand how you feel, you can be sure that I’ve felt it myself. All of it.

I am no longer living in California, I have an apartment in Washington, in Seattle. In the past year I graduated near the top of my class in English Lit, although I now work as a trainee at an auto shop. I was surprised to find that I’m quite good at it, and I think it’s something to do with Dad’s prompting on that front. The pay is quite good, despite having nothing to do with my degree, and I’m ok for money, I’ve even got health insurance. So I’m fine.

Sebastian is with me, I don’t say that to make you angry or to make a point of it, but because I think you ought to know. He has a job here and it is because of him that I am doing as well as I am. I know how much you must hate him, and perhaps me, for our decision to be together. But, as far as I’m able, I’m doing it right. I intend to be in this for the long haul, it is for that reason that I’ve asked Sebastian to marry me, and he has accepted. As I cannot hope for a reply to this letter I have written that news here, so that you will know how serious I am about him.

I’ve missed you and Aaron so much over the past year, and it is the only thing that makes me regret my choice.

Jude.

PS. I’ve sent you some pictures and things I’d like to share.

The finished version of the letter is crisscrossed with scribbled out lines and additions in progressively untidier handwriting. Jude copies it out anew and folds it into three, placing into the long hoarded manila envelope. He takes it out with him when he has to go to the store for milk and eggs. Jude posts it that day and returns to make Sebastian birthday pancakes for dinner. It’ll cheer him up, and hopefully Seb will appreciate them after work.

He feels drained, calmer now that he has committed his words to paper. Now that he has sent them they are out of his head, out of his hands. Whatever happens now will be his parent’s choice.

Jude stands in the kitchenette carefully spooning batter into a large round frying pan. They recently painted the kitchen side of the room bright yellow to match the oil cloth stapled to the wonky table, so now the walls clash beautifully with the navy blue of the living room. Jude’s lobbying for a red bedroom and green bathroom, but Sebastian is still overruling him on that score.

What’s the occasion?” Seb asks, taking off his green waistcoat and name tag in the hallway.

Just you know...kind of a spontaneous thing.” Jude turns over the thick, buttermilk fluffed rounds. “I even bought maple syrup.”

Isn’t that a little expensive?” Seb asks, presumably remembering their last grocery shop where they’d had to choose between having meat or cheese for the third week running. He was stretching the truth a little when he’d said they were ok for money. What he’d meant was that he wasn’t on the verge of starvation or homelessness. Saving for the wedding was making things pretty tight.

When I say ‘maple’ I mean, dubious chemical flavouring derived from dead beavers.” Jude explains. “It tastes almost like a kind of food.”

Sebastian laughs to himself, sitting at the table just as Jude brings the short stack of pancakes over.

I actually have a surprise for you too.” Sebastian recalls halfway through his first pancake.

Jude drops his knife and fork. “Oh my God, you’re pregnant.”

Damn. Here I thought I was hiding it so well.” Sebastian intones, deadpan. “No, it’s just a little thing, but they just got in the new lot of magazines at the store, so I got a few with my staff discount.”

Jude’s grin widens. “You bought me porn? You are going to make an excellent wife.”

They’re wedding magazines.” Sebastian glares at him with a half smile.

Do they even do gay wedding magazines?”

Sebastian nods. “I thought it might be of some assistance, as neither of us knows about these things.”

Plus there’s Matthew and Adam’s wedding.” Jude forks up a syrup soaked triangle of pancake. “The invitation came today, but the actual date isn’t for a while yet.”

I’ll take some time off work.” Sebastian promises. “Would you like to look at these magazines after dinner?”

Sure.” Jude looks down at his pancakes thoughtfully.

An hour later the two of them are sitting cross legged on their second hand couch, looking down at the small pile of magazines with mirroring expressions of complete and total dismay.

Planning this wedding is going to be hard.” Jude surmises. “And expensive.”

I had no idea there were so many things to consider.” Seb agrees.

Well, we’re doing the whole civil partnership, town hall deal, right?” Jude asks. “So at least that narrows down the location.”

And we won’t require doves or confetti or...” Sebastian flips a page, “A chocolate fountain.”

We could have a chocolate fountain?” Jude holds out his hand for the magazine. “Gimme.”

Sebastian hands it over.

All I mean is that this isn’t a traditional wedding, and neither of us is going to be a...” He stumbles on the unfamiliar word, “Bridezilla. We have no need of centrepieces or a jazz band or a horse and carriage...”

But where will I put my fountain?” Jude protests, grinning.

Sebastian smiles to himself, then picks up a pad and pen from the coffee table.

We should decide where we want to go.” He points out.

Matthew’s going to New Hampshire.” Jude informs him. “Couple of years ago they could have done it at home in California but now that’s a bust.”

Mmm...” Sebastian makes a quick list on his pad. “Vermont?”

That’s kind of far...like all the way across the country, far.” Jude frowns. “Plus, it’s a little cliché, I want our wedding to be different.”

How about Iowa?” Seb asks.

Not that different.” Jude takes the list from him and reads it through. “Give me a minute.” Setting down the list he opens up his laptop and does a few quick searches online. “How about British Columbia?”

Seb seems to consider this.

It’s closer than Vermont, and I’ve always wanted to visit Canada.” He concedes. “We could have our honeymoon there.”

Now see, the fact that we get a honeymoon? That’s pretty awesome.” Jude surfs through a few more pages. “Now we just have to go there, get a marriage licence, which is a hundred dollars on its own by the way. Then the civil ceremony gets performed by a ‘Marriage Commissioner’, which sounds fancy, and we need two witnesses for that. Then we just have to register the marriage and get a certificate.” He looks up at Sebastian, who’s nodding along with him as he speaks. “I guess you’ve done stuff like that for people?”

I have performed a few weddings, though I think the experience will be different in this case.” Sebastian muses.

Well, try not to get too excited about doing the paperwork.” Jude smirks. Something occurs to him. “Hey, are you going to take my name?”

I hadn’t thought about it.” Seb admits.

Sebastian Walker.” Jude rolls the name around his mouth, then smiles. “I kind of like that.”

Sebastian listens to his name and Jude’s, joined and uttered with such excitement. It’s one of the best things he’s ever heard.

Or Jude Gray.” Jude continues. “Damn. This is going to be hard to decide. Maybe we should rotate? Every year or so?”

Maybe we should get married first?” Sebastian advises, though he’s smiling as he says it. “All things in time.”

***

Jude picks up as much overtime as Ian is offering in the weeks before Matthew and Adam’s wedding. Aside from the expense of travelling all the way to New Hampshire and buying the couple a gift, not to mention the cost of a hotel, there is also his own wedding to consider. Sebastian is also working extra hours and together they’ve worked out certain cuts to their expenses. The biggest of these was the decision to stop using Jude’s car. Jude is by no means enthusiastic about not having his own transportation and so having to walk to work, but it made sense, he supposed.

Ian’s auto shop was a small operation comprising space for three cars inside the workshop, a gravel lot outside and a front office which led to the waiting room. The whole place was painted white and contained generations of spiders and their abandoned dusty webbing. Jude’s dusty blue overalls always smell like pine air freshener when he put them on in the mornings, as there were about a thousand of the cardboard pine trees in the supply closet.

Jude calls Aaron from the payphone mounted on the waiting room wall during one of his breaks.

Hey, how’s college?” He says in lieu of a greeting.

Aaron groans. “Exhausting.”

It’s your first year.”

It’s Hell, utter burning Hell fire.” Aaron insists. “My professors are all riding me over my essay scores, and the reading...there’s so much reading.”

Jude chuckles to himself. “Well I’ve been elbow deep in a car that I think is actually rusting over as we speak – want to trade?”

Mmm...not really.” Aaron admits. “So, are you calling for a reason or...”

I asked Seb to marry me.”

Oh my God!” Aaron yells.

And now I’m deaf.”

Did he say yes?” His brother demands.

Of course he did, I’m awesome.” Jude leans against the wall and takes a bite of the jelly sandwich Sebastian had made for his lunch, another product of their budget.

So when are you going to do it? And where?”

We’re thinking of going to Canada, British Columbia - and not for a while because we’ve got Matt and Adam’s wedding soon and we’ve got to save up some money.”

Cool.”

And I was wondering if you’d like to be one of our witnesses.” Jude asks.

Really? Of course I will.”

And...well, I’d like you to be my best man as well.” Jude scuffs his boot into the cement floor.

Aaron must detect the strain in his voice because he pauses for a second before answering.

You know I will, Jude, that’s an amazing thing to ask...” He pauses again.”You’re not inviting Mom and Dad?”

I can’t.” Jude mutters, pushing fifty cents into the machine as it beeps in his ear.

Maybe they’d like to see you.” Aaron says, with all the puppyish enthusiasm he’d had at twelve years of age.

I know they don’t.” Jude replies evenly.

Well, how do you know if...”

I wrote to them, ok? I told them about the wedding and everything that happened last year, and they didn’t write back.” Jude ignores the prickle of shame that goes through him, saying it out loud is almost worse than knowing it himself. “They’re not interested.”

Aaron clearly knows when to let a subject drop and for that Jude is thankful.

So, who’s Seb’s best man going to be?”

Well, he only has one good friend, the priest from his old church in Auburn.”

A catholic priest is coming to your big gay wedding?” Aaron sounds both stunned and amused.

He’s pretty unorthodox.” Jude explains. “Besides, with the amount of money we actually have? It’s going to be more of a small to medium gay wedding.”

Are you going to register?” Asks Aaron.

What?” Jude raises his eyebrows at a poster about oil changes.

It’s when you make a list with certain stores and then people know what to buy you. You can use those scanner gun things...” Aaron sounds defensive. “I saw it on TV ok?”

Well, I’ll look into that, we could actually use a new toaster – ours is doing that half burnt, half under cooked thing.”

You should give it a try. Oh, and let me know when Matt’s wedding is so I can send him a card?”

I will. I have to get back to work now.” Jude sighs. “Rust’s not going to shift itself.”

I should go to the library.” Aaron says. “But, before you go...just, don’t give up on Mom and Dad, alright?”

Aaron, I really don’t think they’re going to come around, and I don’t plan on waiting my whole life for an apology I know I won’t get.” Jude insists.

I don’t think you can decide to stop believing in them.” Aaron advises. “I mean, they’re my parents too and what they’re doing to you is...I hate it, and I could not get out of that house fast enough...but I still think they’ll try to make it up to you. The rest of their lives is a long time.”

Go study.” Jude mutters as the warning beep sounds again. “I’ll think about it, and I’ll see you soon.” He promises before hanging up.

Jude goes back to working on the car’s almost unsalvageable body work, allowing his mind to drift to other things.

At the start of his and Seb’s relationship, when every meeting had carried the threat of being caught, the threat that one of them might slip up or that Sebastian would ask him to leave him be for good, Jude had not considered the possibility of a happy future. Now they had one, and it had not come without a degree of work. Yet, Jude couldn’t help but feel that his sunny yellow kitchenette, the jelly sandwiches Seb made for him and the bed they shared every night, formed part of a separate universe to the one his parents inhabited. The apartment, the world that he shares with Sebastian is in a kind of stasis as far as the rest of his life is concerned. Jude can’t help but want to be accepted back into his family, into his old home, in to Folsom and the ‘real world’ whatever that might be.

With rust flakes on his hands Jude wipes sweat from his forehead and reaches down to feel the spare change in his overall pocket. He waves at Ian through the offices window and holds up his hand. Five minutes. Ian nods, holding the office phone to his ear, his greying hair dishevelled, and his prodigious belly piled up over his waistband. Jude walks into the waiting room and puts his coins into the phone, dialling his home number.

As soon as the other end of the line picks up, Jude feels a weight lift from his mind.

Hello?” Seb’s voice comes down the line.

Hey. It’s me.”

Is something wrong?” Seb asks.

No, I just felt like calling.” The thing Jude loves about his partner, one of the many things, is that Seb never makes him feel stupid for doing things like this. Jude experiences a tiny flutter of warm anticipation as he remembers that Seb is not just his partner, he’s his fiancé. “So, what are you doing?”

I can’t tell you.” Seb says, and Jude can hear his sneaky smile in his voice.

Is it creepy?” He teases.

It’s a surprise.” Sebastian tells him. “I suppose it’s my wedding gift to you.”

Do I get to open it today?” Jude’s actually curious, despite himself.

It’s not really something you can open...I think I’ll be able to show you when we get back from Canada.”

Is it kinky?” Jude asks.

Sebastian laughs.

What’s funny?”

You’ll understand when you see it.” He explains. “Oh, and I’m making chilli for dinner tonight.”

Ugh....I’m going to be thinking about that all day.” Jude whines.

At least you’ll be hungry when you get home.” Sebastian consoles him.

Don’t try to give this day a silver lining, I have to go back to scraping rust off of a car in a minute, and I can’t even afford to drive my own car, despite the overtime.”

I’m going to go through some of our stuff while I’ve got the day off, there might be something worth selling.” Seb promises.

Not my records.” Jude says automatically.

I wouldn’t dream of it. Now get back to work.”

Bossy.”

I try.” Seb grins into the phone. “And Jude? It was nice you hear your voice too.”

Jude’s smiling as he returns to his work, thinking of what Sebastian could possibly be planning to surprise him. His thoughts naturally slide towards possible gifts for Matthew and Adam and from there into the question on registering that Aaron had raised. It was worth considering after all, they did need a new toaster, maybe some plates that actually matched each other. Sebastian had suggested buying a crock pot, Jude didn’t know what a crock pot was but Seb generally knew what he was talking about in terms of appliances, though he still only knew how to make jelly sandwiches, pancakes and chilli.

Jude wondered how on earth they were going to cater for their guests.

The rest of his attempt at salvaging the car’s body work went rather quickly after that.

***

Jude arrives home at the apartment in his creased white t-shirt and jeans, worn out to the extreme from working so hard for the last few hours. The hallway smells reassuringly of browned meat and spicy tomato so his hopes for dinner are immediately high. When Jude goes into the living room he sees Sebastian sitting cross-legged on the floor and going through a dusty cardboard box.

Whatcha doing?” Jude asks, helping himself to a glass of water in the kitchenette.

I found this at the back of my closet, inside another box.” Sebastian says distractedly.

What is it?” Jude comes to perch on the worn cushion of the brown couch.

Things I packed up in Folsom and then put in storage once I moved to Auburn.” Seb sighs. “It’s a box of things that reminded me of you.”

I had stuff like that, things it was too painful to look at.” Jude sits down and drags the box across the carpet. He gently sifts through the contents. Mostly the box contains tapes of his music and books that they’d read together. Jude pulls out a yellowed copy of Elijah’s Gate.

I remember this.” Jude opens the novel, folding the front cover over along its well worn line. “This was the first book you ever read to me; you know I studied this at college?”

It’s one of my favourites.” Sebastian admits.

Jude leans across the box, dusty with long shed misery and kisses Seb lightly on the corner of his mouth.

Read to me.” he asks.

Dinner’s almost done...” Seb casts a reluctant eye towards the kitchen.

It can wait.” Jude touches Sebastian’s hand and then stands, sitting on the couch with his back to the arm. The older man gets up to rearrange himself on the couch, half lying across it with his back against Jude’s chest. Looking down at the first page of the well read novel, Sebastian begins to read. Jude rests his head on Seb’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of Seb’s skin through his own tee and his fiancé’s button down shirt.

Settling into the comforting feel of Seb’s body curved to match his own, Jude lets the words of the novel’s opening pages enter his mind. They stir loose memories of another time, another couch in a separate room, within a different state and adjacent to God’s own house. It was the same book and the same man though, those two had survived the intervening time. There are differences between them, they have changed; the book has aged and Sebastian too has grown older, though somehow he retains his scent of incense, or perhaps it is only Jude’s perception that makes it so.

After a while, Jude leans further against Sebastian and kisses the side of his jaw lightly, working his way slowly down to where his neck meets his shoulder. Sebastian’s reading falters and he tilts sideways, further into Jude’s touch.

Distracting.” Seb mutters.

I’m listening.” Jude assures him. “Just thinking about the last time you read this to me.” He slides his arms around Sebastian’s waist. “When I wasn’t allowed to do this.” He returns his mouth to when Seb’s pulse jumps in his throat, making the older man let out a shuddering breath, his eyes fluttering closed. “See, I like doing this” he trains his mouth lower as his hands slide under Sebastian’s shirt. Seb lets the book side from his hand and drop onto the floor. “And you realise we’re getting married soon?” Jude continues conversationally. “We’re going to have a wedding and a honeymoon, with a bed...and...”

Sebastian twists in his arms and kisses him, fully on the mouth. Jude wraps his arms around his fiancé and lowers them both to lie flat out on the couch, shifting his legs a little so that Seb can lie between them.

Their schedules have been too hectic to allow much time for the two of them to do much other than eat dinner and sleep when they get home. The only reason Seb even has the day free is because the store’s being redecorated. So now that they have the time together, they take it slowly.

Jude leads Sebastian into lazy, open mouthed kisses, his hands gentle stroking the skin just under the hem of Seb’s shirt. The older man presses his body against his fiancé’s, humming like a satisfied cat. It’s refreshingly quiet, with only their quick gasps for air and Seb’s soft humming to disturb the quiet.

We should go to the bedroom.” Jude pants, body arching off of the couch and against Seb’s as he nuzzles the older man’s throat.

Mmmm.” Seb agrees, only to rub his own body against Jude’s, seemingly with no intention of moving.

Seb.” Jude prompts. His partner kisses him and slides a hand under his shirt. Jude arches into the contact.

The phone rings.

Ugh...” Seb starts to pull back but Jude clasps at him with the hand not currently groping at his fiancé’s ass.

Leave it.” Jude groans, turning his face to Seb’s to draw him back into a kiss.

It might be important.” Sebastian attempts to wriggle free.

It’s always telesales.” Jude whines, as Sebastian finally climbs off of him and heads for the phone in the kitchen.

Then I’ll be fast.” He points out, lifting the receiver to his ear.

Jude?” A woman’s voice asks.

Hold on I’ll get him for...” Sebastian begins, then falters. “Anne?”

Jude sits bolt upright on the couch, hair in disarray and his face a mask of shock.

Mom?...It’s my Mom?” He gets off the couch and crosses the room in three quick steps, only to have Sebastian lower the phone into its cradle and look at him apologetically.

She hung up on me.” he says apologetically, looking at Jude’s stricken face with concern. “Jude...are you alright?”

No...I...” Jude sets his face and bites his lip. “I’m going to call her back.”

He’s expecting Sebastian to tell him that it’s a bad idea, or that it might be best to wait a while. Instead the older man hands him the phone and backs away.

Would you like to me go into the other room?” Seb asks. “Or I could go out for a while...”

Seb, stay, please?” Jude squeezes his hand and Sebastian nods, taking a seat at the kitchen table. Jude dials his home number.

It rings.

It rings and rings, and Jude is starting to think that he is never going to get an answer when the ringing stops and he’s left with his mother’s voice.

Jude?”

Mom.” Jude lets out a breath and takes Sebastian’s hand in his, laying their joined fingers on the table top beside the phone. “How...how are you?”

His Mother pauses before answering. “We’re, the same as we ever were... and Aaron’s at college...but I suppose he’s told you all about that.”

Yeah, he did.” Jude swallows.

And...are you alright?” She asks, like he’s her bank teller and they’re just making a few minutes of awkward conversation.

I’m doing ok.” Jude gnaws at his lip. “Did you get my letter?”

Yes.” A whole new kind of tension swamps his Mother’s voice. “Are you really...are you and Father Gray getting married?”

In a few months.” Jude keeps his voice even, though from the look on Sebastian’s face he’s guessed what they’re talking about.

Silence greets his pronouncement.

Mom?”

I don’t know what to say.”

Anything.” Jude feels a tight ball of suppressed misery form in his chest. “It’s been over a year Mom, you can say, literally anything, and I won’t mind. I just want to hear it.”

I’ve missed you.” His Mother’s voice wavers. “I just keep thinking that I’ve missed so much, so much of you and I wanted to be there. I wanted to be there for your graduation...your first apartment and...” she takes a deep breath. “I wanted to be there for you. I just...I couldn’t. I’m sorry...it was just too much.”

I was going to tell you.” Jude grips Sebastian’s hand tightly. “I was, I promise...I just couldn’t see a way to do it and then...well, then you found out the way you did. I never meant it to happen that way.”

I know that.” His Mother acknowledges. “I knew that then, but...I had no idea how to feel about the two of you...being together. I still don’t.” Jude can hear the apology in her voice.

You didn’t let me explain.” He points out. “That’s what I wanted a chance to do. That’s it.”

I just don’t see how it could help.” His Mother hesitates. “Your Father...I don’t know if he could ever have made his peace with you being...that way...but, with Father Gray as well...He’s angry, and I don’t think he’ll ever really understand why you did what you did.” She pauses. “I don’t think I can either.”

Mom...”

No, I need to say this. Jude, we’re your parents, and we love you. I know that’s hard to believe right now, but it’s true. But, as much as I wish I could be with you, and be a part of your life...I don’t think I can ever look that man in the eye again.”

Sebastian.” Jude grits out.

I know you...love him, but he betrayed us. Whether you realise it or not. Jude, if you decide to come back home, we’ll welcome you back, even your Father will.”

If I leave Seb.”

Sebastian’s hand drops from his, but Jude reclaims it, holding it tightly and shaking his head mutely.

Jude I don’t want to hurt you...”

You just won’t have anything to do with me, unless I leave the man I’m planning to marry.” Jude feels the cold ball of unshed tears in his chest as it is washed away in a rush of anger. “Except you don’t think our marriage will be as real as yours and Dad’s right? Or Aaron’s when he meets a nice girl at college?”

Jude, please...” He Mother begs and Jude thinks he can hear the beginnings of tears in her voice.

No.” He says, and it hurts even as the word is leaving his throat. “I thought...maybe, just maybe, after a year you might have come to terms with who I am and who I’ve chosen to be with...but you haven’t...you haven’t changed at all.”

We can’t change what we believe...just because it deprives us of you.” His Mother says sadly.

Jude closes his eyes, feeling them well up under the lids.

If you miss me? Let me come home. But, I love Sebastian, and if all you’re going to do is insult that by even insinuating that I can just shut him out, like you did to me? Then I’d prefer it if you didn’t call again.” His heart is in his throat. His hand grips Sebastian’s until his knuckles turn white.

I’m sorry...but I can’t tell you what you want to hear. This doesn’t mean we don’t love you.” She sounds so tired, that for a moment Jude wants to take it all back, to tell her that he’s coming home right away. Only he can’t and he doesn’t want to leave Seb, not for anything.

Then I’m sorry. But I’ve got nothing left to say, accept...I love you, and I hope you and Dad reconsider.” With that, Jude puts the phone down.

He sits, staring at the suddenly mute piece of plastic, allowing the feeling that he’d hundreds of miles from his parents to close over him again. Sebastian lays a hesitant arm over his shoulder, and Jude allows himself to be brought down, until his head is resting on Seb’s shoulder. Neither of them says anything for a while.

Jude finally rouses himself from the heavy feeling of disconnection and pulls away from Sebastian.

The chilli smells done.” He mutters.

Sebastian presses a light kiss to his temple before standing up and going to deal with dinner. He serves up two bowls of chilli and brings them over to the table. Jude dashes the few tears that have made their way down his face away with his fingers and picks up a spoon.

After a few minutes of eating in silence, Sebastian looks up at him.

I’m glad you’re staying.” He says softly. “And I’m sorry that I’m costing you your family. I can’t imagine what that must feel like.”

You’re not costing me anything.” Jude says sharply. “It’s them.” He looks down at his bowl. “I just don’t know how to feel about them right now.” He stabs at his chilli with the tip of the spoon. “Actually, that’s a lie, I hate them. I never thought I would but...” he bites down on the bitter words.

I don’t think you should say that.”

It’s true.” Jude can feel the black anger radiating through his chest. “It’s not like they’ve done much to prove otherwise. They threw me out, they ignore me for over a year, and now they have the nerve to tell me I can come home if I abandon you? They can go to Hell.”

Sebastian winces.

Please don’t say that.” He asks.

Why not?” Jude demands.

Because one day they might die, and you won’t want that to have been the last thing you said about them.” Sebastian says pointedly.

That last thing I said to them in person was ‘I want to explain myself’ and they closed the damn door in my face.” Jude stands up and goes to set his almost untouched chilli on the counter.

Still, it would be a terrible thing to live with.” Sebastian says behind him from where he’s sitting, motionless, at the table.

And you know what about that exactly? Your parents never knew about you. They died thinking you were goddamn perfect.”

He regrets it even while the words are in his mouth, but he spits them out anyway, turning just in time to watch Sebastian flinch.

My parents died, not knowing who I really was, whilst I was busy working to become a priest.” Sebastian utters fiercely. “And all the time I struggled with what I really wanted, I found myself hating them, because I knew that no matter how disgusting I found myself, it was only equal to a tenth of the hatred they would feel.” He looks up at Jude, eyes clear and piercing. “And I still wish they had lived to see me find you.”

Well, I’m sorry I’m not a saint like you.” Jude snaps.

Jude, don’t.” Seb looks at him with mingled hurt and anger. “Just...stop.”

Jude turns and stalks into the hallway, snatching up his coat and shrugging it on before flinging open the door and walking out into the crisp night air. He half walks, half runs the first street away from the apartment. Never turning to look back.

Chapter Twenty-One

Jude is sick of being an adult, and he’s only just becoming one, technically. Right this moment, as he storms down the sidewalk and around the corner from his apartment, it feels as if he’s been struggling to be mature and strong for as long as he can remember. At seventeen he had tried to overcome his sexuality, had tried not to fall in love and had fallen nevertheless. Jude had lost his first love, had to work out exactly who he was in the most painful way he was capable of imagining and then he had lost his parents as a result.

Jude was tired of taking the high road, of making the right choices and having only endless pain for his trouble. He didn’t want to understand his parent’s misgivings, to appreciate their beliefs; he wanted to yell at them. Jude wanted to take the fight to his parent’s doorstep. So they wanted to shut him out? He’d knock down the door, the walls if he had to, he’d make them see eventually, that he was deserving of their acknowledgement.

At the centre of Jude’s foul mood lay Sebastian. Sebastian the patient and kind, brimming with priestly understanding and the benefit of age. Before, Jude had always appreciated that kindness, that compassion that made Sebastian his comfort and his only love. Now though, now Jude can’t help but resent the older man his serenity. Sebastian has never had to experience what Jude has just had to go through, again. The separation from his parents for no other reason other than their fear and disgust. How the hell could Sebastian understand what it felt like?

Jude walked faster and faster, until finally he was jogging through the streets as night descended, and finally sprinting along the sidewalk. The unfairness of the situation, his helplessness in the face of his parent’s distance, makes his head hum with anger. Possible scenarios of revenge, of desperate gestures he could make to his family, run through his mind. Finally, his heart burning with strain, he has to slow his pace, faltering to a slow trudge.

As if it was waiting for him to slow down, guilt abruptly catches up to him.

Jude can’t remember ever fighting with Sebastian before. They’ve squabbled over grocery shopping and who used up the last of the toothpaste, but it has never been anything as serious as this. Even before they lived together, when Jude had still been just a teenager in Folsom, they had argued over Jude spending a too conspicuous amount of time at Sebastian’s home. They had clashed over their relationship, over the perceived sin of it more than once, but in that they had always been on the same side. Both he and Seb had both had each other’s best interests at heart. Jude had never intentionally hurt Sebastian before.

Now that he has, Jude is left walking the benighted streets of Seattle, feeling acid lying heavily in his stomach. The memory of his harsh words to his fiancé makes his heart jump and his gut twist. He wonders if he even has the right to call Sebastian his fiancé now, or if Seb is even still in the apartment.

Sebastian never really talks about his family, but Jude had always gotten the impression that they were obviously pretty diehard Catholics, more so than his own parents. He has no idea what it must have been like for Sebastian to grow up in their home, no idea what he must have gone through as his sexuality became apparent to him. Sebastian has never mentioned how it felt to have his parents die shortly after he completed his degree and took his vows. Jude has always shied away from the topic as one that might cause his partner unnecessary upset.

Now he wonders if he should have asked him about it.

It’s dark and quiet out; Jude passes only a few people on the street, then fewer, then none. Jude has no idea what time it is. His watch is back at the apartment, along with his cell phone and his wallet and a man who loves him. A man he purposefully hurt because he can’t reach the people he actually wants to yell at; they’d slam the door in his face if he tried.

He’d sacrificed everything for Seb, and now he’s walking around in the cold because he’s scared to go back and face him. In all the time they’ve been together, he’s never felt the age gap as keenly as he does now; he feels like a petulant child.

Jude reaches a corner and looks up at the crosswalk sign glowing green ahead of him. Sighing out a cloud of frozen breath he turns and starts walking home, scuffing his feet and feeling his stomach trip with nerves.

The walk back to the apartment takes an unfairly small amount of time, mainly because he’s just been circling it for hours like a penitent vulture. His keys are in his coat pocket, which he’s grateful for as he had entertained thoughts that Sebastian wouldn’t let him in if he knocked. As it is the sound of the key in the lock seems abominably loud and Jude winces like a burglar caught in the act when he opens the door and sees Sebastian.

Seb is sitting on the couch with a blue fleece blanket half over his lap and a cup of tea at his elbow. He lets the copy of Elijah’s Gate drop to his lap.

You’re still up.” Jude says redundantly, taking off his coat and hanging it up.

I couldn’t sleep.” Seb sighs. “Not, because you weren’t here, though I was worried. But Elijah kept yowling at the door.”

The cat emerges from the tangle of shoes by the door, wrapping itself around Jude’s ankles and mewling pitifully. Jude reaches down and scratches him behind the ears, sending the tag on his collar jangling.

I’m back now.”

Good.” Sebastian tugs the blanket off of his lap and drops it to one side, already heading for the bedroom. “Night.”

Seb...” Jude takes a half step forwards.

Jude...” Sebastian turns round to face him. “I don’t want to talk about this right now, I have to work in six hours and...I just need to sleep.” He goes into the bedroom and Jude is left looking at the half open door, wanting to go in and stay in the living room with equal strength.

If I come in there, are you going to kick me out?” He calls.

It’s your bed. I’m your fiancé, of course I won’t kick you out.” Seb’s voice floats through the door. Jude crosses the living room and goes into their bedroom, he stands and watches Sebastian who is already dressed for bed, as the older man takes off his watch and puts it on the dresser. Sebastian lifts up the sheets and climbs into bed, turning to face the covered window as Jude pulls off his jeans and T-shirt, sliding into his cotton sleeping pants. Jude gets into bed and turns off the lamp, turning onto his back and looking up at the dark ceiling.

I’m so, so sorry, that I said those things.” Jude whispers.

Sebastian lies in silence for a moment.

I can’t remember us ever fighting.” The older man says finally. “Not, like that. As if you...really, wanted to hurt me.” He rolls over and looks at Jude. “What do you think that means?”

Not the same thing you do.”

Which is?”

That I don’t care enough, or you don’t.” Jude bravely raises his hand and rests it on Sebastian’s hip. “I think it’s because...you’re stupidly mature and all that priest training left you amazingly good at dealing with conflict before it even happens. I think that, I have never wanted to make anyone happy and safe the way I want to make you feel that way.”

Sebastian rests his head against Jude’s chest.

I think...” Jude starts, and then frowns, trying to marshal his words properly. “I thought, while I was out, and I think now that...I don’t want to be a Walker anymore...not if I can’t be with my family, not if it makes me so angry that I say those kinds of things to you.”

Jude, I know you didn’t mean it, I don’t want you to do anything rash because of this.”

I’m not being rash.” Jude says automatically. “But I don’t want to invite you into a family that not only doesn’t want you, they don’t want me either.”

Aaron does.” Sebastian whispers against Jude’s naked chest.

Aaron will understand why I’m doing this, it’s not like he thinks the Walker name is worth so much right now.” Jude strokes Seb’s hair lightly. “I want to be a Gray...if you still want to marry me.”

Would I be getting up at seven am to pay for a wedding if I didn’t?” Sebastian grumbles.

I’ll be up at six forty-five to make you breakfast.” Jude promises.

They sleep like that, with Sebastian’s head pillowed on Jude’s chest, Jude’s hand on his fiancé’s hip. The roiling nerves that had plagued Jude since he left the apartment, recede and Jude is left feeling much as he had done when Seb had finished nursing him through stomach flu; exhausted and weak, but calm.

The next morning Jude is as good as his word and drags himself out of bed and into the kitchenette to make them both a decent breakfast, despite the fact that he doesn’t have to be at work until ten. He brews coffee and poaches eggs while slices of brown bread are toasting in their godforsaken toaster. Sebastian joins him at the table and eats his eggs with the usual two large dots of ketchup on them, like a child making monster eyes out of his food. Jude has toasted him an extra slice of bread, which Sebastian eats with orange marmalade, also as usual.

Thank you.” Seb says when he’s finished. He gulps the last of his black, sugarless coffee. “I’ll bring you home something nice.”

Ooh, like damaged candy?” Jude grins.

Probably more likely to be some bruised peaches and bakery leftovers.” Seb shrugs.

That could be good. Remember my broken banana bake? Genius my friend.” He waves his fork in Sebastian’s direction.

That’s why I’m marrying you.” Seb drawls, sliding into his green waistcoat and tugging it straight.

So I have to keep up the Martha Stewart routine, even after we get married?”

If you want to keep me.” Sebastian teases. “And if you want to stop me burning the house down with macaroni cheese.”

We’re going to have a house?” Jude’s eyes go wide with pretend excitement. “How many double shifts are you planning to work?”

Oh, at least as many as you.” Sebastian leans over and kisses Jude on the cheek. “We work too hard.”

And yet you’re going to the soup kitchen tonight.” Jude points out, raising his eyebrows. “Say hi from your...oddly bi-polar fiancé.

In a few months I can introduce you as Mr Jude Gray. Then they’ll stop thinking that you’re a freak with no name.” Seb’s smile is a little unsure.

I haven’t changed my mind.” Jude assures him. “Now get to work, I made you lunch.”

Jelly?” Seb guesses as he picks up the brown paper bag.

You know it.” Jude sighs.

I’ll see you tonight.” Seb promises, walking towards the door.

After he leaves, Jude clears up after their breakfast and takes the stack of wedding magazines out from under the coffee table. He has some time to kill after all. Jude locates the address he’s looking for and rips it out of the top magazine, pocketing it before getting dressed for work and leaving the apartment. Instead of taking the route straight to work, he goes a couple of blocks out of his way to locate the address of the cut-price printers that the magazine, ‘Budget Big Days’ had recommended.

By the time he gets to the printers he only has an hour before he really, really has to be getting to work. A bell rings over the doorway as he goes into the store, a single room decorated pink and white with racks and stacks of sample books and with framed invitations on the walls.

Jude steals himself for this experience.

Hi, can I help you?” A bright, bottle blond woman with a gilt nametag pinned to her light blue sweater bounds around the counter to address him. She’s so pink cheeked and cheery that he imagines her name should be something like ‘Felicity’ or ‘Flopsy’ the nametag however identifies her as ‘Katie’.

Yes. Hi Katie.” Jude starts off, ever polite in the face of potential embarrassment. “I’m looking to get some wedding invites done. Cheap ones.” At the slight tarnishing of her brilliant smile he corrects himself. “It’s not that I don’t care about the wedding, I do, but...it’s a budget thing and we’re both working really hard to raise the money.”

Katie bounces back to shiny, happy, people pleaser faster than a rubber ball.

Don’t worry, we get a lot of people on tight budgets, I’m sure we can do something lovely for you and your fiancé...” She lets the end of her sentence trail off, delicately requesting his name.

That would be great.” Jude smiles, relaxing a little. “And, it’s Jude, by the way.”

It’s nice to meet you Jude. Let’s see what we have.” She looks thoughtful for a second. “Well...” Katie wanders into the store proper and selects a sample book. “We have some nice, plain lines. Very modest, very modern.” She flips through a series of plain white cards with fancy black writing and small white satin bows at the corners.

Do you have anything...uh, less feminine?” Jude asks awkwardly.

Katie looks confused.

My fiancé is...” Jude struggles, really not wanting to play the pronoun game. “...he’s kind of a ‘no frills’ kind of guy.

Oh.” Katie says, then, “O-oh.” She looks a little flustered and Jude prepares to be chivvied on his way. “Give me a moment.” Katie wanders vaguely towards the back of the store. Presumably that’s where they kept the single pamphlet of invitations designed for ‘unorthodox’ weddings.

It’s fine.” Jude calls when the assistant doesn’t resurface immediately. “I can just...I can come back later.”

No! Hang on!”

Jude hangs on, itching to leave and feeling a blush creeping up his neck.

It really is ok, I’ll just...”

I’m sorry that took so long. We had a double wedding for some nice, but picky guys from Ohio. These got a little lost.” Katie comes bolting back with six heavy ledgers of samples. She deposits the heavy samplers on the counter. “Right, ok, what we have here...” she opens the first collection to reveal a black card with a white boarder and white type. “Is our sleeker range.”

It takes up the whole hour. Jude looks at black cards and white ones, multicolour horrors and different types of embossing, engraving and serifs until his eyes start to glaze over.

Ahaha!” Katie squeaks, shocking him out of his daze. He’s been disregarding example after example and Katie now has a pretty good idea of what Jude thinks he’s looking for.

What?” Jude asks, looking at the rectangle of card being flapped in his face.

It’s perfect, trust me.” Katie pronounces.

Jude focuses on the card, an inky blue one with white silhouette type and a small star-like shape in each corner. It reminds him of the plates of the star over Bethlehem in the children’s Bible he’d had since birth. It’s Seb, down to the grain.

That is perfect...I may have to invite you now.” Jude takes the card and looks at it more closely. “Can I take this? To show my fiancé?”

Sure.” Katie smiles. “And, bonus? It’s not one of the more expensive invites, so there you are.”

Thank you.” Jude straightens up from his slouch over the counter. “You are...the most patient woman ever...and now I really have to get to work.”

I look forward to seeing this guy of yours.” Katie smirks as Jude gathers his jacket and messenger bag. “This...’I have to find him the perfect invitation because he’s just that amazing’ guy.”

Oh, he’s going to love you.” Jude promises. “Promise.”

See you soon!” Katie calls as he leaves for work.

Jude walks the long way to Ian’s auto shop and his legs ache before he even starts his shift, and he’s dog tired from going to sleep so late and getting up so early. Still, Jude works with a barely contained smile on his face for his entire day of work, because he’s done something good for Seb and, judging for that morning his fiancé isn’t upset anymore. Jude’s glad, tired, but glad.

***

Hey, I have a surprise for mmf...” Jude’s words are cut off as Sebastian comes into the living room and kisses him, dipping forward and pressing Jude into the couch.

Or you could do that.” Jude grins as Seb pulls back for air, scooting over Jude to kneel on the couch, hands stroking at his waist.

I have been, working...” Seb kisses him in between his words. “All day, and then...I was at the soup kitchen...”

And that made you want to make out?” Jude brushes his lips against the side of Seb’s jaw.

It made me happy...to have you...waiting here for me.” Seb presses their foreheads together. “And we never got to do this yesterday.” His next kiss is sweet, soft and warm and it’s all Jude can do not to pull him down on the couch like they’re both seventeen. Instead he stands up, bringing Sebastian with him, and walks him backwards towards the bedroom, hands resting lightly on the older man’s hips.

How was work?” Seb mutters against his mouth.

Now, really?” Jude smiles into Sebastian’s kiss.

I’m interested.” Seb’s hands slide up into Jude’s hair as they shuffle to the bed.

Crappy, as always.” Jude pouts, pushing Seb lightly down onto the bed. Seb lies out flat, legs dangling over the end of the mattress, he looks up at Jude, hair messy and chest rising and falling rapidly. “Still want to talk?” Jude asks pointedly.

Sebastian shakes his head.

On one level, deep down, Jude is still surprised that he’s allowed to touch a man like Sebastian. Every time they wrap up in bed together, every time Jude runs his hands over Seb’s naked body, he still gets the same odd feeling as the first time they’d made love. That same, ‘it’s finally happening, it’s happening and he let it happen’ feeling. One part shock, one part awe and the rest pure gratitude. Only this time, he can feel the warm metal of Seb’s engagement ring pressing into the flesh of his back, and his own ring hangs on its chain, swaying over Sebastian’s chest.

Afterwards, lying beneath a pale green sheet, shaky and damp with sweat, Seb kisses the back of Jude’s neck, his hand stroking the younger man’s stomach. Jude sighs and shifts until he can lie back against Sebastian’s body.

What’s my surprise?” Seb asks after a while.

Your...?” Jude takes a second to collect his scattered thoughts. “Oh, yeah the...well, I picked out wedding invites today, before work.”

Are they nice?” Seb nuzzles the soft brown hair at the nape of Jude’s neck.

They’re...blue, with stars. Like a nativity.” Jude closes his eyes and feels the pull of sleep.

Mmm...they sound nice.” Seb mutters, his own eyelids drooping.

Uh-huh...” The younger man agrees, tipping over the edge from wakefulness into sleep. Sebastian follows mere seconds later.

***

The next morning, when they wake up, if is officially one week until Adam and Matthew’s wedding. Sebastian checks it off on the calendar taped to the refrigerator, leaning against the counter and drinking his coffee as he considers the red ring that marks the day of the wedding. His blue towelling robe is tied off neatly at his waist, open at his throat to reveal a line of pale skin. When Jude walks into the kitchen the first thing he thinks is that Seb, no matter what, is a good sight in the mornings.

Can you believe we only have a week until they’re getting married?” Seb asks.

Time flies when you’re working your ass off.” Jude quips behind him, fixing his own coffee and picking up the piece of toast Seb has made for him, he takes a bite, gags, and looks at the burnt underside. “We need to replace that thing.”

It’s at the top of the expenditure list, right after ‘a wedding present for Adam and Matthew’ and ‘our own wedding’.” Seb clicks his tongue thoughtfully. “Maybe if we buy them a toaster, they will feel obligated to buy us one?”

That’s far too insidious a scheme.” Jude muses. “Maybe we can find a two-for-one toaster sale?”

You’re living in a free-appliance dreamworld.” Sebastian sighs and finishes his coffee. “Still, it will be nice to have some time away from work.”

Yeah.” Jude mutters. “Shame it had to be in California.”

Sebastian sets down his coffee and closes the space between them, hugging Jude loosely, the soft towelling of his robe smells like burnt toast and sandalwood, his stubble prickles at Jude’s cheek.

I know, I’m just a big bucket of issues this morning.” Jude jokes, half smiling. “Faulty toasters and absent parents, what a catch I am.”

It’s understandable, you don’t have a...time limit on how long I’m going to care about your problems.” Seb points out.

Which is nice, but...not what I got up wanting to talk to you about.” Jude pulls away and looks at Seb’s neat little confused frown. “Tonight, after work...I want to ask you about your family.”

Jude, I’ve already forgiven you for...”

That’s not it.” Jude says quickly, “I just want to know...how you feel about them...and why, and...anything else that you’ve never told me because you didn’t want to bother me with it.” Jude kisses the side of Sebastian’s mouth.”You’re my fiancé, everything about you bothers me....in the nicest way possible.”

Sebastian favours him with a small smile.

When I get home.” He promises.

Sebastian leaves for work, walking all the way to the supermarket with his mind buried in the conversation he knows is coming. He has never really had to talk about his parents before, not with someone who knew the truth of his situation. Everyone at the seminary had thought him to be like them, a faithful servant of the lord, not an imposter fleeing from his family and trying to scrub a living stain from his soul.

The automatic doors are unlocked when he gets to work and so Seb goes inside and through the store to the back room, intent on moving new stock out to the front in time for the early shoppers. His work is nicely distracting and he finds, as he moves packages of peaches and bundles of celery to refresh the displays that his worry is dissipating. He can tell Jude everything about his family. He can finally tell someone.

You look happy.” Andy observes, the short, dark man already wearing his green waistcoat and stacking plastic packets of dried apricots energetically. “You and Jude taking to the idea of married life already?”

We are.” Sebastian replies. “How are you and Marianne?”

Andy makes an awkward sound at the back of his throat. “Same old argument, I don’t listen to her. Apparently.”

Have you tried, listening?” Sebastian asks, attempting to remove limes from a box and stack them in an even pyramid.

Yeah, that’s how I know I don’t.” Andy rolls his eyes. “She’s crazy, but that’s how it is. Can’t say I don’t love her that way.” Andy collapses a cardboard box down into a crumpled sheet with his sneakered feet. “She’s looking forward to the wedding though.”

You’ll be getting an invitation soon.” Sebastian assures him. “We’re going back to the printers to make the selection official.”

Oh man, you have to do all that stuff?” Andy laughs to himself. “When me and Marianne did it, all I had to do was propose, and show up on the day.” He shakes his head. “She even picked out her own ring.”

I don’t mind planning the wedding.” Sebastian steadies his limes and reaches for a grapefruit to top off the stack. “Jude’s doing most of the work.”

Ahhh.” Andy taps his nose. “That makes him the wife, right?”

Go restock the milk, so I can pretend I don’t know you.” Sebastian shoos him away.

Yeah yeah.” Andy grins. “Oh, Marianne wants to know what you guys want for a present, has Jude picked out the china patterns?”

Tell her, a toaster. Much obliged, and that her husband’s an idiot.” Sebastian says, rolling his eyes.

Tell her something she doesn’t know.” Andy huffs, trailing over to the dairy section.

Sebastian smiles through the rest of his shift, even when an angry woman with three screaming children all under the age of five gives him a hard time at the register. The fifteen minutes he spends dealing with her is going to help pay for his wedding; he can’t help but grin.

Are you some kind of mental case?” The woman frowns at him, one of her squalling brood tugging on the saggy knee of her lavender leggings.

Nah, he’s just super happy today.” Andy comes around behind the counter and logs into a register. “He’s getting married.”

Oh, great.” The woman rolls her eyes and minces her minty gum with her back teeth.

Mmmmhmmm.” Andy rumbles. “So, Sebby, why don’t you take a break right now, I’ll deal with this and you can go call the future-wife and check in on centre pieces or something.”

Sebastian smiles gratefully.

I owe you.” He mutters as he passes Andy by.

Buy me lunch and we’re square.” Andy grins.

Sebastian does indeed buy Andy lunch, a tuna sandwich and a can of soda at the coffee shop around the corner from the market. For himself Sebastian gets a plastic bottle of orange juice and a pot of yogurt with crunchy oat cereal.

Without wishing to sound like an asshole...you really do eat like a chick.” Andy says through a mouthful of sandwich.

You eat like a semi-evolved howler monkey.”

So, like a guy?” Andy grins. “Hey, are you having a bachelor party, you know, before the big ‘I do’?”

My best man is a priest, so no.” Sebastian stirs his lunch and avoids Andy’s eyes. He’s been fairly open with Andy, but not about his previous vocation. As far as Andy and the rest of his co-workers are concerned, Sebastian has worked in supermarkets and libraries all his life.

A priest?” Andy shakes his head. “I will never understand you Catholics.”

It is highly unusual, but he’s my friend.” Sebastian shrugs, making light of it. “Besides, I don’t think a bachelor party is really my thing.”

Andy grins at him.

You are ridiculously devoted.” The shorter man shakes his head. “I swear, my bachelor party? My brother took me to a strip club, got me a naked lap dance.”

Sebastian raises his eyebrows. “That isn’t really...a thing that I would do.”

I’m not saying it is. But it was fun. Don’t tell Marianne though, she’d never let it go. Even though I know for a fact her friends took her pole dancing.” He cracks open his can of soda in a ‘case closed’ gesture. “What do gay guys even do for their last night of freedom?”

Whatever they want to I expect.” Sebastian shrugs. “Jude and I will be up in Victoria, staying in our hotel.”

Good luck with that.” Andy says seriously. “Sounds just right for you guys.” He takes a deep swallow of soda. “Anyway, did you see what they’ve got planned for the new Delhi counters at the back of the store? What the hell are they thinking?”

I have no idea.”Sebastian sighs. “But it’s going to ruin the whole system.”

Remember that pyramid of peach cans? That ruined the damn system.” Andy rolls his eyes. “That new manager is way too corporate.”

Sebastian smiles into his juice.

He leaves work at six and drops off a brown bag of expired vegetables at the shelter before walking home. Jude is already lying on the couch when he gets in, hair wet from a shower and wearing a fresh pair of jeans and an old green T-shirt.

Hey.” Jude sighs tiredly. “Slight accident at work, got oil dumped all down myself...I might have to clean the shower later.” He sits up. “Anyway, I didn’t have time to cook, so forgive me, but I had to order in.”

Did you get Chinese?”

Of course.”

Then I’m not going to complain.” Sebastian sinks down on the couch. “Crispy duck pancakes?”

And pot stickers.” Jude smirks. “I remembered, it’s been almost two years. I know what you like.” He lays his arms around Sebastian and pulls him backwards until they’re lying down together on the worn brown couch. “So, while we’re waiting for that flawless order of food that I so thoughtfully called out for...we can have that talk.” Jude whispers against the back of his ear.

What is it you want to know?” Sebastian asks.

Anything.” Jude rubs Sebastian’s stomach in slow circles. “Tell me anything you want.”

I already told you about Jacob...but when I was fourteen and my parents sent me away to bible camp...I called them my first night there and I begged them to come and get me.” He closes his eyes and focuses on the warmth of Jude’s hand soaking through his shirt. “I know it’s common, for children to hate being away from home...but the other children, I think they knew, why I was there. They treated me like a criminal or, some kind of semi-human...so I found a pay phone and I called home to beg them to take me back.”

What did they say?”

They told me...that I wouldn’t be their son again, until I finished the program. Until I came back normal.” He feels Jude’s hand stop rubbing his stomach, the younger man’s arms tightening around him protectively. He never thought someone so much younger than him could make him feel so safe. “Well, I didn’t fix myself. I just kind of...stopped thinking of it as something that I felt...and it became something that happened to me occasionally, like a compulsion. That I could control.”

And you never told them, that it hadn’t gone away?” Jude asks.

I told them, they just didn’t hear me.” Sebastian sighs. “While I was at the seminary, I had an attack of doubt, I didn’t want to be a liar for the rest of my life, and I thought that serving God because I was afraid of the alternative wasn’t any way to live a good life. So, I wrote my parents a letter.”

Jude goes still.

I told them in it that I wanted to leave the seminary and live my life the best way I could. That I was still gay, but that I wasn’t going to act on it, that they could trust me to remain celibate.”

How did they react?” Jude murmurs.

They didn’t.” Sebastian half smiles bitterly. “They didn’t write to me, they didn’t call either. But that wasn’t so unusual; they hardly ever contacted me of their own accord.” He sighs. “It went on for so long that I was worried they’d just cut me out. Then I got a phone call from the hospital in our home town.” He twists his face to look up at Jude.

The door buzzer goes.

Sebastian stands up and goes to the door, hands over the money waiting by the key bowl and takes the cartons of food back into the living room. He sets them down on the coffee table and opens them, snapping the cheap chopsticks apart and grabbing a fork for Jude. Sebastian curls his feet under him on the couch and delves into a carton of pot stickers half heartedly. Jude falters for a second before picking up the container of pancakes and the plastic pot of shredded duck filling. He rolls a pancake up neatly and hands it to Sebastian, who takes it gratefully.

What did the hospital say?” Jude prompts gently, watching Sebastian gnaw at his pancake without much gusto.

They told me my parents died in a car accident.” Sebastian says stiffly. “Early snowfall made the roads treacherous, and they died on impact with another car.”

Seb...”

Sebastian looks down at his half eaten pancake and takes another purposeful bite, like he’s reminding himself to be hungry.

When I went to their house to organise their things and have their burial arrangements made...my letter was under the doormat. It used to flip up sometimes and letters would get stuck there.” He chews his food methodically. “They never read it. They had no idea who I was, and then they were dead.”

I can’t...” Jude shakes his head slightly. “I have no idea how that would have felt.”

It felt, exactly like when they left me at camp for the full stay.” Sebastian says simply. “It felt like they left me behind, like they stopped listening.”

Jude can’t think of anything to say, he and Sebastian sit in silence, picking at their food and feeling the air solidify around them in awkwardness and loss.

When I was a kid.” Sebastian starts up. “My parents were hardly ever there, they both worked and they weren’t the most...expressive people. But, they were proud of me, for becoming a priest, for reforming myself. When I was going through their things I found my Father’s ring and I kept it because...when I went to that camp, he told me that one day it would be mine, when I got better.”

Jude curls his fingers around the hoop of metal hanging on its chain around his neck.

I’m so sorry.” He whispers.

You don’t need to apologise.” Sebastian shakes his head. “It’s just...it happened and now I’m here. I feel better about it.”

But you’re not over it.” Jude points out.

You never get over losing your parents.” Sebastian looks his straight in the eye. “Even if they’re not the parents you think they should have been.”

I know.” Jude mutters.

Promise me you’ll think about trying with them.” Sebastian asks.

I will.” Jude sighs. “Just don’t expect me to get anywhere.”

I have faith in you.” Sebastian curls into Jude’s side and offers him a pot sticker. Jude takes it and doesn’t comment when Sebastian reaches for the remote and puts on the television to watch a documentary about whaling.

Some things needed a period of recovery. This was one of them.

Chapter Twenty-Two

They fly to New Hampshire at the weekend and drive to their cut price motel in a rented car with a coffee pot on the backseat wrapped in pearly white paper and topped with a blue bow.

I still think it’s a terrible gift. They probably already have one.” Sebastian grumbles from the passenger seat. He’s a nervous flyer and the long trip has not improved his mood. Jude had held his white knuckled hand through the entire flight and now he’s trying to navigate their way through the unfamiliar town they’re stuck in.

Where are we heading again?” He asks irritably.

Dover.” Sebastian informs him.

We landed in Manchester over four hours ago...how are we not there yet?” Jude snaps. “If I take one more wrong turning I swear to...” he glares at the road, “and it is not a terrible gift, it is perfect. Adam is a coffee snob, he loves fresh coffee, Michael told me.”

And it was also on sale.”

Seventy-five percent off.” Jude smirks. “And I talked the sales woman into throwing in a bag of fancy beans. Extra gift.”

Sebastian smiles to himself, then jerks forwards and points. “That was our turning.”

Damn it!” Jude hits the steering wheel.

Sebastian just laughs.

This is funny to you?” Jude demands.

You’re funny.” Sebastian tells him. “You sound middle aged and cranky today, comparatively I feel quite young.”

Shut up.” Jude tells him, but he’s smiling as he takes the next turning.

When they finally make it to the motel, a two story square building with a sign that advertises their ‘clean and fresh double rooms’, they’re both too tired to speak. Jude drags their bags up to the room and they crash out on the bed, Jude face down on the mattress with his arm over Sebastian’s stomach. They sleep for five solid hours, and Sebastian wakes up with one of Jude’s legs between his own and the younger man’s face pressed against his throat.

Hey.” He mutters, running his hand up Jude’s spine. The slumbering man mumbles and shuffles closer. “Jude, if you don’t wake up, you won’t get any dinner.”

Jude grumbles in his sleep.

Wake up.” Sebastian whispers.

Jude fidgets and moves a little further onto the older man, kissing him gracelessly.

Tomorrow, I get sex.” Jude mutters, dragging himself up and off the bed.

No arguments.” Sebastian promises. “For now, let’s just feed you.” He rubs his eyes. “How much money do we have?”

Jude checks his wallet. “After tickets, the car, the room...eighteen dollars.” He sighs. “Any more and we’re eating into the wedding budget.”

So, we get cheese burgers and then, tomorrow at the wedding, we eat as much free food as possible?” Sebastian suggests.

Sounds smart.” Jude grins, picking up his jacket and sliding into it. They both still have their shoes on. “Did you see a takeout place on the way in? I’m too tired to eat in anywhere.”

There was one at the end of the block.” Sebastian reaches up to turn the label on Jude’s jacket around and under the collar. “How about we watch something on cable, have dinner and get an early night.”

You’re perfect, you know that?” Jude half smiles at him lazily.

And you, were excellent on that plane.” Sebastian kisses him lightly. “I love you.”

I love you too, let’s go get some congealed cheese and meat.” Jude pats him on the shoulder and they walk out of the motel into the night.

It’s their first real time off in ages and Jude is suddenly very much aware that they’re getting married soon. He’s going to spend the rest of his time off, and his time before and after work, with Sebastian. He thinks about his parents, and how they’ve been happily married for decades, and Seb’s parents, who died so suddenly.

It’s a crime that he and Sebastian already lost three years.

Jude takes Sebastian’s hand as they walk down the street. Sebastian looks sideways at him and smiles; Jude bumps his head gently against Seb’s shoulder. They’ve never done this in public before. But Jude’s reserved many of his firsts for Sebastian, and he wants to start having them. Regardless of what their families are like, or were like. Regardless of how they came together and of all the pain and separation.

Jude wants now, and then he wants their wedding and whatever happens after that.

***

“Ok, so in all seriousness, it’s been a nightmare.” Matthew stands at the head table wearing a simple black suit and holding a glass of champagne. Adam sits beside him, grinning up at his new husband as the five hundred guests at the surrounding tables listen to the speeches of the newlyweds. The rented hall is filled with round, white cloth covered tables. There’s a clear glass vase of peace lilies on each table and six black cloth placemats with silver knives and forks all set up for dinner.

Jude has to admit, it’s pretty fancy. Sebastian is enjoying himself, sitting calmly but practically humming with excitement. He’s gotten very into wedding preparations, so he must feel like he’s at Disneyland. There’s also the fact that Jude’s sitting close to him, closer than they usually sit in public, and with his hand on top of Seb’s on the table.

No one’s staring. Usually, in coffee shops and out shopping, people look at them like they’re trying to work them out. Strangers who are openly attempting to define exactly what they mean to each other. Here they’ve made it through the meet and greet and the ceremony, and no one has batted an eyelid.

Matthew finishes the section of his speech devoted to recounting the experience of planning the wedding. He gestures with his glass at Jude and Sebastian’s table.

Most of you know that Adam and I met in college. What you don’t know is that, the first person I met there, was Jude.” Matthew smiles easily. “Jude was my first real boyfriend since coming out...and now he’s one of my closest friends, and about to marry the love of his life.” Sebastian’s fingers curl into Jude’s palm, stroking softly. “Anyway, I just wanted to say, good luck. Because...everyone deserves to feel as happy as I do now, and I wouldn’t be here, without you.”

Jude raises his glass with his free hand, smiling across the room at his friend.

Dinner is served once the speeches are concluded. Sebastian has the poached salmon, eating enthusiastically after going without breakfast.

Salmon would be great at the reception.” The older man comments, inspecting his dauphinoise potatoes. “And I think there’s dill in here.”

Like you’d know dill if it bit you.” Jude whispers, grinning. “You still know nothing about food.”

I know we can’t afford salmon.” Sebastian tells him. “And that dill is the one that looks like carrot tops.”

Well done.” Jude smirks. “What about ricotta, is that still a herb?”

I made that mistake once.”

Still funny.” Jude shrugs.

Sebastian sulks over the rest of his main and only perks up once his cherry clafoutis arrives. Jude takes his dark chocolate torte incredibly seriously, to an almost psychotic level, and so he lets the ricotta mockery slide for a while.

We could have that soup, the starter? At our reception.” The younger man offers, as a compromise once he’s almost done with his dessert.

The roast tomato one?” Sebastian asks hopefully.

Yup, can’t be too pricey.” Jude glances up at Adam and Matthew who are grinning at each other and sharing their desserts, half and half. “Are we going to be that sickening?” he smirks at Sebastian.

I’m planning on being so, yes.” Seb picks up a section of clafoutis on his shiny silver spoon. “Want some?”

Well, we do need the practice.” Jude takes the morsel of cherry from the spoon. He chews it thoughtfully. “That is good.”

Mmmm.”

We should try and steal as much food as possible.” Jude mutters. “Canapés, torte, enough salmon to last you the year and maybe a wedding gift or two.”

Sebastian mock frowns at him indulgently. “You can’t steal from their wedding.”

If I know Matt he’ll be stealing from ours.” Jude hisses, still grinning.

There won’t be much to steal.” Sebastian points out.

We’ll get nice gifts, just wait and see.” Jude assures him. “Now give me some more of that cherry thing.” He looks over at the dessert trolley. “Wonder if I can get some of this torte for later...”

You are insane.”

No, I’m just hungry.” Jude frowns at him. “We don’t have anything lined up for later, remember.”

Sebastian sighs.

Fine, go. I’m not watching.” He says beneficently.

Thank you Father.” Jude quips.

Sebastian looks down at the surface of the table, his hand twitching away from Jude’s automatically. Jude feels like a kicked dog.

Seb, I didn’t mean it like...I was joking.”

I know.” Sebastian says too quickly. “Just...just maybe don’t, say that?” He fingers his engagement ring nervously. “I know I joke about being older, but that...”

I know. I’m sorry.” Jude nudges him gently. “It was stupid. I’m sorry.”

It’s fine.” Sebastian touches his hand lightly. “Go. Steal.”

Jude slides his arm around the small of Sebastian’s back, resting his forehead against the older man’s shoulder.

I think I’ll just stay here.”

I really am sorry for reacting like that.” Seb promises him.

It doesn’t matter.” Jude mutters, though they both know it does.

Adam and Matthew share their first dance on a square, parquet dance floor. The music is nothing that Jude recognises, something new and classical with a lot of violins. Thankfully, Jude has never had the confidence or grace for dancing and Sebastian, though not lacking in elegance, is shyer than the younger man when it comes to public displays. They leave relatively early, having soured the day for themselves slightly with Jude’s slip up.

Jude snags Matthew at the bar and hugs him. Matthew claps him on the back before releasing him, turning to shake Sebastian’s hand.

Congratulations man.” Jude grins.

Your ceremony was beautiful.” Sebastian adds.

Matthew grins from ear to ear. “I’m glad you liked it. Today’s just been...well, I hope you feel this awesome. It’s going to be great for you two, just wait.” He practically buzzes with excitement.

Just be ready for my speech, because after you got us stared at, all bets are off.” Jude points meaningfully at Matthew’s chest.

I’ll brace myself.” Matt laughs. “You guys aren’t leaving are you?”

It was a long trip and we’re not really big on the dancing.” Jude says apologetically. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Depends on how nice the gift you got us is.”

In that case we had better stay until the end, and then help to clear up.” Sebastian mutters, dead pan.

Matthew laughs as Jude glares at Sebastian.

Ignore him, it’s awesome, you’re going to love it.”

I’m sure I will.” Matthew assures them. “Now, go back to your hotel and make sure your wedding isn’t better than ours, or Adam will kill me.”

Damn. There goes the Ritz.” Jude quips. “Don’t worry, we’re officially the budget conscious grooms of the season.” He says, putting on a laughably inaccurate upper-class accent.

Mmmhmm.” Matthew rolls his eyes. “Just tell Aaron it’ll be nice to see him. Oh, and thank him for the wedding present.”

He sent you something?”

His and his mugs.”

Sebastian smothers a laugh. “We have the matching set.”

Well, now I have to get you something else.” Matthew is still smiling at his own joke as he waves them off and goes back to join his new husband.

On the way back to the hotel Jude takes Sebastian’s hand, then drops it so he can wrap an arm around the older man’s waist. Sebastian walks willingly in step with him, pressing into the contact and the warmth of Jude’s body.

I won’t say it again.” Jude promises, breaking the silence. Sebastian doesn’t have to ask him what he means.

The older man twists and kisses Jude on the edge of a puddle of light cast from a street lamp. His hands reach to cradle Jude’s face, their fingers as cold as the younger man’s frigid skin. Their breath meets in a plume of white that drifts upwards and away unheeded.

What I was...brought me to you.” Sebastian says quietly.

Jude kisses him again and feels his skin turn warm against Sebastian’s. The piece of chocolate torte he’d stolen for Seb weighing down his jacket pocket.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The month before the wedding is highly stressful, but then, Jude had always known that it would be. Once they’re both back in Seattle it becomes a competition between their packed work schedules and the arrangements for the wedding as to what can take up the most time. Most nights they barely have time to make increasingly blackened toast for dinner before crashing out in their bedroom and sleeping until their alarms wake them for the new working day.

One Saturday, their first day off since returning from Matthew and Adam’s wedding, Jude takes Sebastian along to the printers to get the invitations sorted out once and for all. The store is the same neat and tidy marvel of space management that it had been before, as pink and white as a wedding cake, and Katie is behind the counter when they arrive.

Jude, welcome back.” She grins, blonde ponytail bouncing as she rounds the counter, her crisp white shirt somehow making her complexion pinker and more vibrant. “This is him? The famous fiancé?” Katie wraps a bewildered Sebastian into a hug of the kind favoured by sugar hyped four year olds.

Jude glances at Sebastian who, for all his compassionate diplomacy when dealing with people, seemed utterly stunned by Katie’s overt enthusiasm. He’s almost too amused by his fiancé’s discomfort, but it is a sight to behold; staid, pale Sebastian in Katie’s clutches.

It’s nice to meet you.” Sebastian eventually manages, and Katie releases him to beam at them both.

Pleasure’s all mine. Now, I take it you’re here about your invitations?”

Yeah, he loved the design you found and we wanted to get some printed as soon as possible.” Jude explains.

Katie nods and produces a ballpoint pen and a slim notebook with sugar mice printed on the cover.

Ok, what are your names and the dates? I can run those up for you right away.”

Really?” Jude had expected some kind of waiting period.

She shrugs, smiling offhandedly. “It’s a slow day.”

Ok...Sebastian Gray and Jude Walker...date’s three weeks from tomorrow.” Jude says catching Sebastian’s anticipatory look and returning it gladly. Three weeks and they’d be married. Seemed too good to be true.

Three weeks?” Katie looks up at him. “And you’re just sending your invitations now?”

Yeah, why?” Jude feels a spike of panic, the kind he used to get when someone at college mentioned an essay he hadn’t known was coming.

But...you’ve got your cake and the venue and everything else all lined up, right?” Katie asks hesitantly.

Now Jude feels like he’s turned up to an advanced calculus exam naked by mistake.

Why?”

It’s just...most people have that stuff sorted out...well, months in advance.” Katie tells him, her face painted with a mixture of worry and pity.

Shit.” Jude mutters. “Sorry...but...”

No, shit is right.” Katie assures him.

What are we going to do?” Jude turns to Sebastian.

Perhaps we can...improvise?” Sebastian wonders aloud, but it’s clear he’s as devastated as Jude feels. What with all the trouble they’d had just being together, Jude had kind of hoped their wedding would go off without a hitch.

Hang on.” Katie turns to a new leaf in her pad and leans on the counter. She scribbles down a page of hasty notes and hands it to Jude, saying “tick off what you’ve done.”

Jude scans the page in growing horror and returns it with only a few marks made against the items listed. Katie looks at the list and whistles, low and apologetically, nibbling the corner of her lip.

We’ve got the licence as well.” Jude says defensively, he and Sebastian had flown home with a stopover just so they could get their wedding licence in plenty of time.

Well, good news is you’ve got your officiator and your location sorted...bad news...you’ve got nothing else locked down yet...and it might be a little late.”

Shit.” Sebastian says neatly, surprising them both. “I felt it was warranted.” He shrugs.

I might be able to help you out.” Katie says hesitantly. “Might. I know a few people in the business up in Canada...we get more gay couples than you’d think.”

We would be...very grateful.” Sebastian assures her.

Well then, I’ll give it my best shot.” Katie grins.

An hour later, Jude is prepared to swear that Katie is some kind of angelic wedding planner sent from a heavenly world to help idiots in need. Not only has she made literally dozens of phone calls on their behalf, she’s also stopped Sebastian having a panic attack over the cost of the cake, gotten all their half assed efforts in order and supplied them with coffee and slices of carrot cake. Jude thinks Sebastian might be a little in love with her as well.

Between the three of them they’ve sketched out a primitive checklist and contact page. They have their hotel picked out, a fairly nice cake on order (if Katie’s contact at the bakery in Victoria is to be believed) not to mention all the decorations, caterers and of course, the invitations.

Katie presents them with a stack of deep blue cards with their names printed in white. She also supplies them with a white gel-ink pen with which to write them out.

Here you are, hot off the press.” She smiles. “You need something to do while I print your menu cards.”

You are a godsend.” Sebastian says emphatically. “Thank you, so much.”

Hey, you guys are nice...clueless, but nice. You have no idea how many bridezillas I have to deal with on a day to day basis.” She widens her eyes. “One of them actually tried to slap me when her invites came out ‘the wrong shade of ivory’.”

Sebastian looks like he doesn’t know whether to be appalled or amused.

Jude picks up the pen and carefully selects an invitation from the top of the pile.

Katie, what’s your last name?”

Schafer.” She smiles.

Jude fills in the space on the invitation.

Consider yourself an official guest at our wedding, because there’s no way it’d be happening without you.”

Katie takes the invitation and grins excitedly.

Just so you know? I want the chicken.”

They address the rest of their invitations once they get home, painstakingly writing the names of their guests in and then putting them in envelopes and writing those out as well. Sebastian sits on the living room floor, leaning his work on the coffee table and watching Jude opposite him, trying to ease a hand cramp.

I hadn’t realised we had so many people to invite.” The older man marvels.

We don’t, this is tiny. Some people have like two hundred or more to do.”

Still, we have more guests than I thought we would.” Sebastian smiles.

Jude likes the way that smile looks, happy and unburdened. He’s happy that Sebastian, for one day at least, will be allowed to show his feelings publically in a room full of people who like both him and Jude and have no problem with either of them. That’s the brass ring they’ve both been holding on for. On the subject of rings Jude takes a scrap of paper from his pocket and slides it across the table towards Sebastian.

What do you think?” he asks. He’s spotted it in one of Katie’s old bridal magazines which she’d spread out during her planning session. The picture was torn from the magazine and showed a black ring with a gold band at the centre. “It’s just a possibility.” Jude points out as Sebastian considers the cutting in silence.

I like it.” The older man assures him. “But it looks expensive...”

It’s ceramic and gold, so it’s not so unreasonable.” Jude shrugs. “I just liked it.”

It’s nice. I’d be happy with it.” Sebastian promises. He looks down at their lengthy checklist. “I never realised there would be so much to do.” He sighs.

We’ll get it done, then comes the best part – being married and annoyingly happy.”

Sebastian offers him a small smile. “I’m going to call Father Franklyn, let him know his invitation will be on its way.”

I’ll finish up the rest.” Jude offers, looking at the handful on invitations yet to be sent. Sebastian nods gratefully and goes to use the phone. Jude picks up a fresh invitation and addresses it to Andy and Marianne from the supermarket. Once that one is finished the guest list is complete. Jude looks at the blank invitation in front of him and wonders if he could, if he should, send one to his parents.

He can’t imagine what their response would be, how they would react to being invited to his and Sebastian’s wedding. Jude knows he’s written his parent’s off, but knowing that it’s the course of least pain for both himself and Sebastian, and forcing himself to stop needing their approval, are two separate things.

He listens to Sebastian speaking with his old priest in the kitchen, smiling to himself at hearing Sebastian so at ease. Does he really want to ruin that, ruin their day, by chancing that his parents might turn up and try to put a stop to their wedding? Or worse, that his parents might not come at all, leaving him to deal with the humiliation of knowing he wasn’t worth more than a stranger to them now.

He places the unused invitations to one side.

Jude gathers the filled envelopes and motions to Sebastian that he’s going down to post them so that they can arrive sooner rather than later. Sebastian nods in acknowledgement and Jude slides into his jacket and goes downstairs and out onto the street. The closest mail box is on the corner and he takes his time walking to it, enjoying the night air.

They’ve managed to cram months of wedding plans into one day and he feels exhausted but exhilarated. The only nagging thought that’s repeatedly dampening his happy high is of his parents. Jude seldom thinks of them on a day to day basis anymore, but the approaching wedding is bringing it home to him. He might never see or hear from them again.

Once he’s dropped the bundle of invitations into the cold metal box’s waiting mouth, Jude retraces his steps back to the apartment and lets himself in. Sebastian is no longer on the phone and is instead tidying the living room absently.

How is he?” Jude asks.

As irrepressible as ever.” Sebastian smiles fondly. “He doesn’t seem to be considering retirement any time soon, perhaps he’s rethought his position.”

He’s good at his job.”

One of the better priests I’ve met, though Father Montag is a fine example as well.”

Father..?”

Montag. He’s my priest at the moment.” Sebastian informs him. He doesn’t elaborate but Jude senses the tension in the air. The older man hasn’t pressured him into rejoining the church, though he attends regularly himself. Sebastian has been happy to allow Jude his own choices when it comes to faith, for which Jude has been grateful. When it comes to the wedding however, Jude has been thinking about the implications of their split on the church for a while.

You know...if you wanted to go to church, on the day...we could.” He offers carefully.

That’s kind but, you don’t have to just for me.” Sebastian answers, equally as cautious. They’re both dancing around the issue and Jude takes the plunge gracelessly.

It wouldn’t be, just for you, I mean. I’d like to say thanks, make a few apologies for what I said in His direction while I was at college.” ‘While I was at college’ has become the official euphemism for, ‘the three years when I didn’t have you’.

Then I’d love to go.” Sebastian says. He yawns, jaws snapping open and closed, leaving him looking surprised. “Right now I’d like to go to bed.”

I can make my peace with that.” Jude smirks. “Rushing through all that stuff with Katie gave me the urge to sleep for about a week.”

“After the wedding.” Sebastian promises.

“After.” Jude agrees.

***

Weddings were sneaky things. Like snow storms, sales women and the flu; they kind of got the best of you with the element of surprise. So it was that Jude was astonished to find himself clocking out from the auto shop on the eve of the weekend that was to be his wedding. He was sticky with sweat inside his t-shirt and jeans, and by the time he’d walked home through the drizzle he was damp and ill-tempered.

Sebastian is not yet home from work and the phone is ringing when he opens the door, two things that fail to improve Jude’s mood. He kicks off his wet shoes and darts across the darkened apartment to snatch up the phone.

What?”

...and how are you, this fine evening?” Aaron’s sarcastic drawl crackles on the line.

Wet and cold.” Jude says, hunkering down on one of the kitchen chairs and plucking Sebastian’s uniform fleece off of the back of another chair, draping it over his shoulders. The scent of lemons and musky, incongruous incense embrace him.

You’re the one who just had to move to Seattle.” Aaron reminds him.

The pin chose Seattle, I was at the mercy of fate.” Jude complains. “How are you anyway?”

Fine...Good. I got my invitation.” Aaron says evasively. “Actually, I got it a while ago but I thought I’d mention it.”

Good. So, you’re all set to fly in? Got a hotel picked out? A nice gift?”

Well, yeah. I’ve had that stuff sorted for two months.” Aaron says, nonplussed.

Of course you have.” Jude sighs.

What? Oh, let me guess, you and Seb had to do a rush job on the wedding because you suck at organising things?”

...Shut up.”

Snappy.”

Anyway, are you bringing a guest, like, what was her name, the girl you were into last time you were here?”

Sally? We kind of...it just didn’t happen.” Aaron tells him.

Sorry, that sucks.”

I’m not that broken up about it, it’s not like I’m planning on settling down right out of college.” Aaron says pointedly.

Ouch. Subtle.” Jude drawls. “So you’re going stag to my wedding?”

I might, sort of be bringing a guest.” Aaron hedges.

A girl?”

No.”

Aaron, if you’re coming out like, two days before my wedding I will kill you. Providing Seb doesn’t get to you first.”

You’re still the only gay guy in the family...”

That we know of.” Jude corrects.

Fine. Ok.” Aaron mutters distractedly. “Just...don’t freak out, alright?”

About?”

The fact that Dad might be coming to the wedding.”

Jude can’t gather enough of his racing thoughts to form a coherent reply.

Jude?” Aaron’s worried voice comes down the line. “Shit. I know, I shouldn’t have said anything, but he called the other day. He was talking about you sending him a letter and how he hadn’t known you and Seb were getting married, and when was it going to be and if he’d missed it he’d never live it down...so I told him it hadn’t happened yet....”

And then you told him it was this weekend.” Jude finishes blankly.

Yeah.” Aaron squeaks. “I didn’t mean to let the whole thing slip but...well, it wasn’t like it was a secret...and he was so devastated when he thought he’d missed it, you should have heard him.”

I wrote that letter months ago.” Jude tells him. “The only reply I got was Mom calling to tell me I could come home if I left Sebastian.”

A long pause crackles on the line.

...Shit.” Aaron breathes.”Shit, I didn’t know...what do you think they’re going to do?”

I don’t know, but Seb and I have worked ourselves half to death to afford a proper wedding. I’m not letting anyone ruin it for us, not after everything.”

That makes two of us.” Aaron promises.

Jude hears Sebastian’s key in the door.

Listen, I’ll tell Seb, but don’t make a big deal about it when you see him. He’ll stress over it and he doesn’t need that on top of everything else...I’ll see you at the hotel tomorrow, ok?”

Can’t wait, and don’t worry, I won’t let them ruin anything.”

Aaron rings off and Jude sets down the receiver just as a dripping Sebastian comes into the living room, scattering drops onto Elijah, who had emerged to welcome his master home. The cat beats a hasty retreat and Jude gets up to heat some soup for their dinner.

It’s still raining then.”

Torrentially.” Sebastian huffs. “I hope we have better weather tomorrow.”

We’re going to be inside, at the hotel.” Jude reminds him. The hotel they’ve chosen has a function room that looked a hell of a lot nicer than the best city hall had to offer, so that’s where they’re holding the ceremony and the reception.

I know that.” Sebastian says wearily, digging a package of part baked rolls out of the freezer and popping them into the oven to crisp and heat through. “Still, it would have been nice to have some sun.”

Jude stirs the chicken soup, wondering how he can tell Sebastian that the weather might be the least of their problems.

Something’s bothering you.” The older man announces. Jude will probably never get used to the peculiar way Sebastian has of pinpointing his emotional state, a talent that has only increased over the two years they’ve been together. That by no means makes him any less thankful for it.

My Dad knows about the wedding. He might be coming tomorrow.” Jude turns to see Sebastian frozen by the sink, twisting an oven mitt in his hands. The oven timer counts down between them, the soup hisses on the stove.

Aaron told him?” Sebastian asks eventually.

He said Dad seemed upset, like he’d regret missing our big day.” Jude sighs, stirring the soup with slightly more force than is strictly necessary. “Like he cared so much before.”

Maybe...”

No. Seb.” Jude cuts the older man’s words off quickly. “I know my Dad, he doesn’t do sudden changes and he certainly doesn’t do gay weddings. Whatever he’s going to do, you can bet it won’t be pleasant.”

I would hardly describe the past two years of waiting as ‘sudden’.” Sebastian points out.

I just...don’t want to get my hopes up.” Jude hunches over the stove, picking up the pan and pouring the hot soup into bowls. The oven timer chirps and Sebastian recovers the rolls and sets them onto a plate to transfer them to the table.

I understand that this is difficult for you.” Sebastian says as they sit down. “But I won’t let him ruin what we’ve worked so hard for, I promise.”

You and me both, plus we’ve got Aaron on our side.” Jude tells him. “But you shouldn’t have to take my Father on.”

Jude, I’m a grown ass man, I can take care of myself.” Sebastian says gently, causing Jude to choke on a chunk of bread.

I’m a bad influence on you.” He wheezes.

You’re a terrific influence on me.” Sebastian sips his soup delicately. “And tomorrow...”

I’m going to be your husband...who’s a bad influence on you.”

That probably shouldn’t go into your vows.” Sebastian suggests.

The vows had been something else to worry about. They’d both decided that the prescribed civil ceremony, whilst satisfyingly complete, had lacked the personality of Adam and Matthew’s personalised vows. The only problem was that Jude had little experience of writing and delivering speeches. Sebastian however, had more than enough sermons under his belt to make light work of his vows.

Only he was the one having problems.

Still stuck on the speech then?” Jude guesses from Seb’s suddenly deeply thoughtful face.

Mildly...entirely stuck. Yes.” Sebastian sighs. “I will have finished in time for the wedding, I’m sure.”

Good.” Jude finishes up his dinner with a yawn.

We still have to pack for tomorrow’s flight you realise.” Sebastian reminds him.

I’m still awake aren’t I?” Jude smirks, his face distorting as another yawn overcomes him.

Barely.” Sebastian smiles. “If you want I could get the best part of it done while you go to bed early.”

Nah...solidarity, it’s the corner stone of wedding prep.” Jude asserts. “Or so I read in Bridal Beauties.”

The wedding gospel.” Sebastian sighs wryly. “Come on then.”

Together they go into the bedroom and drag their suitcases out from the back of the closet. The companionable silence of the folding and packing of clothing lulls both of them into sleepiness. Sebastian yawns soundlessly, apart from the creaking of his jaws. Jude nudges him awake and takes the shirt from his hands.

Go wash up for bed, I’ll take care of the rest.”

Sebastian goes to brush his teeth and Jude finishes folding and stowing the last of their clothes. The folder with all the numbers for their wedding, as well as the licence and all their documentation goes in last, balanced on top of the clothing.

They’re as prepared as they’re ever going to be.

***

A white knuckled flight later, at least on Seb’s part, and they arrive at Victoria International Airport. Jude steers Sebastian towards a Costa Coffee and sets him at a corner table with a bottle of water to recover.

That, was vile.” Sebastian mutters, closing his eyes and fighting a fresh wave of nausea.

Just sit still for a minute, I’m going to get the bags.” Jude pats him on the shoulder and goes to find their luggage. It takes a surprisingly long time to locate their two plain blue suitcases amongst all the other plain blue suitcases. Eventually he manages it and struggles with the two bags back to Costa Coffee, where a pleasantly smiling blonde waitress is bestowing a plate of dry toasted Panini on Sebastian.

Strangely for a man so otherwise closed off, Sebastian just seemed to attract kindness wherever he went.

Hey, I found the bags.” Jude says, smiling his thanks at the waitress and promising himself to tip her big time on the way out.

Can I get you anything?” The waitress, whose name tag reads ‘Rosie’ asks.

Uh, a black coffee would be great thanks.” He grins. “And, thank you for taking care of him.”

No problem.” She smiles, tapping off to make the coffee.

Feeling better?” he asks Seb, who is cautiously nibbling the toasted bread.

A little.” The older man sighs. “At least we have a few days before the return trip.”

A few days in a, not quite luxury but still pretty awesome hotel.” Jude reminds him.

I’m looking forward to it.” Sebastian says, raising a brave smile.

The Oswego Hotel is a short taxi ride away and by the time they reach it Sebastian has perked up slightly, buoyed by the presence of solid ground. It’s a boutique hotel in James Bay, downtown Victoria and Jude picked it because it was a good price and suited him and Sebastian’s desire for a modern hotel without prissy dust ruffles or curtain tassels.

From the outside it’s a neat, tall building with huge bright windows and fancy modern art in the courtyard. Far over their heads are the balconies of the pricier suites and the cloudy noon sky. Jude and Sebastian haul their bags along with them and Jude handles the business of checking in. The foyer is warm and mostly decorated in shades of contemporary brown. The chandelier overhead is a modern and simplistic circle of glass cylinders on a metal hoop. The walls are panelled in squares of sleek wood, with a neat logo mounted on the wall to the side of the information desk.

The professionally friendly man behind the desk is apparently called Mark, and when Jude checks in the guy’s face lights up.

You’re the wedding party for tomorrow?”

I have a small part to play, yeah.” Jude smirks amiably.

There’s champagne in your room, ordered compliments of an...Aaron Walker?” Mark tells him.

Jude barely stifles a laugh. “Thanks for telling me.”

Once they’ve run the gauntlet of getting their bags and themselves upstairs to their room, Jude sinks down onto their bed and looks up at the ceiling. Across from him is a dark wood console table topped with a high end television and a delicate spray of red leaves in a tall white vase.

It’s good to be home.” He sighs. “I could get used to this.”

Through the open bedroom door he can see Sebastian admiring the rest of the suite, a pale carpeted room with a white couch, dark brown wicker table and a glass vase of lilies. Artsy black and white prints are hung over the couch and to the left of the living room set up is the ‘gourmet kitchen’. Gourmet might be over stating it a little, but it beats the hell out of their apartment kitchenette. The kitchen space here has a stainless steel fridge and coffeemaker, light beech cupboards and modern cylinder lights hanging from the ceiling. The whole place is simple and self contained, and Jude’s already certain that it was worth working so hard just to raise the money it’s costing to stay here for two days.

Sebastian wanders into the bedroom carrying a bottle of champagne with a white silk ribbon tied around the neck. The tag on the ribbon is dark green and Seb snags it to read the note.

Jude, this isn’t your gift, but it wasn’t free. Enjoy it AFTER the wedding and don’t forget to pick me up from the airport.” Sebastian sets the bottle down on the console table.

You realise that ‘after the wedding’ is about nine hours from now.” Jude says. “You nervous yet?”

Almost seven years, and now is when you think I’d get nervous?” Sebastian lowers himself onto the bed beside him and makes himself comfortable on the white linen.

Me neither.” Jude admits. “All the crap we’ve been through, this is...the easy part. Good, but easy.” He turns onto his side and lays his arm over Sebastian’s stomach. “So, couple of hours until Aaron gets to the airport...what do you want to do?”

We have a wedding to organise.” Sebastian reminds him, though he snuggles closer to the bed as he does so.

So...take a nap?” Jude guesses.

Sebastian nods sleepily and Jude shifts closer to his side, losing sight of the plush hotel suite as his eyes slip shut.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“You were late, because you fell asleep?” Aaron is still grumbling as he and Jude step out of a taxi and walk into the hotel.

It’s your fault I had to take an extra cab all the way out to the airport to get you.”

Aaron has the good grace to at least look mildly shamed.

Where’s Sebastian?” Aaron asks as they walk to his room, one of the standard single ground floor accommodations. Aaron is still on a student budget after all.

He’s getting everything organised in the reception room, you know, flowers, the cake and stuff. Probably trying to finish his vows as well.” Jude explains.

T-minus three hours...are you nervous?”

Nope.” Jude pops the ‘p’ languidly. “No sign of Dad either.” He adds, trying for nonchalance.

I’m sorry.” Aaron says quietly, opening the door of his room in an attempt at distracting himself from his own disappointment.

Least if he never shows he can’t start causing trouble.”Jude mutters.

Still looking on the bright side then.” Aaron gasps, heaving his case into the room and onto the single bed.

I’m getting married, that’s nothing but bright side.” Jude glares at the suitcase. “What the hell did you bring?” He inhales suspiciously. “Why does it smell like...turpentine?”

I travelled coach.” Aaron shrugs. “Who knows?”

Anyway.” Jude claps his hands decisively. “I have to help Seb with the whole ‘setting up a wedding’ thing – I’ll see you down there at three? Oh, and bring these -” Jude takes a green pouch out of his pocket and hands it to his brother. “The rings, make sure Father Franklyn gets one.”

I will, and I’ll be on time.” Aaron says pointedly.

Jude smiles to himself all the way down to the reception room.

The room in which they’re holding their wedding, and which will later be set up for their reception, is more classical than the rest of the hotel. The ceiling and the tops of the walls are painted cream, the lower portion a light gold with white plaster edging on the windows and pillars. The chandeliers are gold, as are the chairs and tables that will be put out for their reception.

Sebastian is currently directing the movement of the small glass vases of yellow roses to any flat surface around the room. Jude has to admit that Katie did a great job on the flower selection. The rented yellow aisle carpet and white folding chairs are already set up facing the large bay window at the end of the room. The older man catches sight of Jude and smiles tiredly, crossing the room to talk to him.

We owe every employee a fruit basket.” He confides in his fiancé. “They’re working flat out.”

Aaron’s here.” Jude tells him. “So it’s probably a good thing we’re almost set up, the rest of the guests are getting here for just before three...which is only an hour away.”

The marriage commissioner is here.” Sebastian assures him. “We are ready for this...he glances down at them both. As soon as we get changed.”

It says a lot about the chaos surrounding them that Jude hadn’t even noticed that he was still in jeans.

Actually, I was thinking...” Jude looks around the room, where their wedding is slowly coming together. “While we’ve got time, if you wanted to get to church...we could go now.”

Sebastian smiles gratefully and the two of them make a quick exit, there’s a Saint Mary’s a couple of streets away, and Jude has known the location since he picked out the hotel. The church is small, almost like the one Sebastian had headed back in Folsom, only vastly more modern. The double doors open into a little vestibule and then on into the main building itself, which has a peaked glass roof. Both men stop at the stoup and then proceed to the empty pews before the simple altar.

Sebastian bows his head and Jude watches his lips move in a prayer, his eyes closed and face expressionless. Jude closes his eyes and thinks for a moment. He has no official prayer at the fore of his mind but instead he mentally addresses God with all the gratitude he can muster. More than anything he’s thankful that the prayer he uttered after meeting Sebastian personally for the first time was answered. He’d had his chance and he hadn’t fucked it up.

When Jude finishes addressing his own personal thoughts to God, Sebastian is still muttering his prayer. Jude watches his face, serene in his devotion, and mentally sends another quick blessing skywards.

Father, thank you for staying with Sebastian when I could not, and thank you for letting him come back into his faith when he thought it was lost forever.”

Amen.” He says aloud, just as Sebastian utters the word himself.

Ready?” Jude asks.

I think so.” Sebastian says, softly.

Jude wraps their hands together and they walk out of the church side by side.

***

After changing quickly into their dark formal suits and coloured shirts, blue in Sebastian’s case, green in Jude’s, they are quick to go back to the function room. The place is finally ready, with all the employees having disappeared back into the woodwork.

The first to arrive is their marriage commissioner, a short and sturdy woman in a lavender suit and silver earrings who’s all smiles. They’ve only spoken to her over the phone, still, Sebastian greets her as Natasha and engages her in a friendly conversation as she takes her place at the bay windows.

Aaron follows soon after in his rented suit, looking awkward and nervous but excited. He is after all the best man, one of them anyway, as well as a witness.

Hey, you’ve got the rings, right?” Jude asks.

Aaron brandishes the green velvet bag.

Present and accounted for.” He looks towards the door. “Now we’re just waiting on the Father.” He looks back at Jude. “I couldn’t find you earlier.”

I was in church.” Jude mutters, eyes fixed on the door as he waits for the next person to arrive.

Oh.” Aaron frowns. “You still go to church?”

You don’t?”

Not since going to college, no.” Aaron admits. “The whole thing didn’t really fit me anymore.”

Fair enough.” Jude wrings his hands, feeling his heart leaping in his chest. “You know how I said I wasn’t nervous?”

Yeah.”

Utter crap. I mean, I wasn’t but now...shit, I’m getting married.”

You’re going to be fine. I’ll be back there with Seb.” Aaron claps him on the shoulder and strides off, leaving Jude with no particular sense of comfort and a mile long stare. After a while he turns to see what his brother is doing with Sebastian and sees that the two of them are talking animatedly. Weird.

The sound of the heavy oak doors opening snaps Jude back to attention. Father Franklyn is ushered in by Mark the desk clerk. The priest is wearing his customary uniform of a black shirt with his white roman collar attached, and black pants. His light brown hair is slightly more threaded with grey than it was the last they’d met, but the priest’s twinkling eyes and easy smile had not changed. He’s also carrying a large gift wrapped carefully in blue paper.

Jude, it looks lovely in here.” The older man beams. “Are you looking forward to it?”

Definitely.” Jude grins. “You’re ok, being here?”

The priest’s smile doesn’t waver. “I love weddings, and I wouldn’t miss Sebastian’s for the world.” He glances at the chairs. “Is there anywhere in particular that I should be?”

Aaron has the ring for you, then you just need to stand up by the front with Seb and me.” Jude assures him. “I can take that over to the gift table if you like?”

The priest nods his understanding and hands him the box with a smile. Jude goes to put it on a folding table that’s been set up to the left of the door. Father Franklyn walks in the direction Jude has indicated, greeting Sebastian as he approaches.

The next guests to arrive Sebastian’s friend Andy from the supermarket and his wife Marianne. Andy is short and dark, his wife tall, pale and redheaded; making them perhaps the most oddly matched couple Jude has ever met, but they’re both exceptionally nice and he’s glad Sebastian has friends in Seattle. They have a present of similar proportions to the priests, which Jude is willing to bet was wrapped by Marianne, who works in a department store. It’s in green paper with some kind of fancy ribbon thing on top.

Hi.” Jude grins as he takes the proffered gift, transferring it to the table behind him. “Good trip?”

Fairly quiet. Glad to be out of that airport, man that place was swamped.” Andy grins.

It was not that bad.” Marianne chides.

You didn’t have to negotiate baggage claim. Never again.” Andy slices his hand down finally. He has green paint under his nails. Marianne smiles at him fondly.

Why don’t you guys take a seat, we’ll be starting soon.” Jude smiles, and the still bickering couple make their way to the folding chairs.

After that the guests start arriving pretty fast. Katie from the printers as well as Ian, most of the people from the soup kitchen in Seattle, a few from the supermarket as well as Matthew and Adam. The brightly lit room fills up with chatter as people take their seats and greet those sitting next to them. Aaron is grinning at Katie as they exchange travel stories, and auto shop Ian is hitting it off with Father Franklyn as they discuss the merits of various fishing lures. The gifts have piled up on the table, most of which have oddly similar and telling dimensions. If Jude didn’t know better he’d think every single one of them had bought him and Seb a toaster.

The whole room quietens when Sebastian and Jude make their way to the front and stand by the window. Natasha takes her place between the two of them and Aaron stands at Jude’s side, Father Franklyn beside Sebastian. If Natasha notices anything amiss about the presence of a priest at a civil wedding between two men, she gives no sign of it.

“We are gathered in this place to witness the formal joining in the legal state of matrimony for this couple, according to the order and the custom prevailing, and under the authority given and provided by the Province of British Columbia.” She begins, and Sebastian meets Jude’s eyes, smiling nervously.

“The state of matrimony, as understood by us, is a state ennobled and enriched by a long and honourable tradition of devotion, set in the basis of the law of the land, assuring each participant an equality before the law, and supporting the common rights of each party to the marriage.”

The door eases open heavily and a few of the people at the rear of the assembly turn to see what has caused the disturbance. Samuel Walker walks into the room, dark suited and dark haired, looking older than Jude remembers him being the last time they met. Their eyes meet and Jude feels a confusing mix of anger, fear and surprise mingle in his gut. Sebastian tenses at his side and Natasha’s voice dies off.

“...is something wrong?” she asks, sotto voice.

Samuel ducks his head and takes a seat right at the back of the room.

“Jude...”

He knows what Sebastian is going to ask him, whether he’s ok to continue or if he’d like to stop because of his Father’s arrival.

“It’s fine.” He manages, looking first at Sebastian and then at Natasha. “Keep going.” The woman looks doubtful but resumes her spiel.

“There is assumed to be a desire for a life-long companionship, and a generous sharing of the help and comfort that a couple ought to have from each other, through whatever
circumstances of sickness or health, joy or sorrow, prosperity or adversity, the lives of
these parties may experience. Marriage is therefore not to be entered upon thoughtlessly or irresponsibly, but with a due and serious understanding and appreciation of the ends for which it is undertaken, and of the material, intellectual and emotional factors which will govern its fulfilment.”

Jude wills himself back into the moment, looking up at Sebastian and smiling as Natasha continues.

“It is by its nature a state of giving rather than taking, of offering rather than receiving, for marriage requires the giving of one’s self to support the marriage and the home in which it may flourish. It is into this high and serious state that these two persons desire to unite.”

Then comes the part Jude’s been dreading.

“I charge and require of you both in the presence of these witnesses, that if either of you or any of the assembled, know of any legal impediment to this marriage, you do now reveal the same.”

No one says a word. Jude looks out at their assembled guests, he meets his Father’s eyes and Samuel shakes his head ever so slightly, raising an awkward smile.

“Then let the couple join hands and Sebastian, repeat after me...” Natasha smiles.

Jude takes Sebastian’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

“I call on those present to witness that I, Sebastian John Gray, take Jude Samuel Walker to be my lawful wedded husband.” Sebastian intones.

“Jude.” Natasha nods.

“I call on those present to witness that I, Jude Samuel Walker, take Sebastian John Gray to be my lawful wedded husband.”

“Jude and Sebastian have prepared individual statements in addition to the legally required ceremony. If you’d like to deliver those now?” The dark haired woman offers graciously.

Sebastian produces a neatly folded square of note paper.

“Jude.” Sebastian begins, and Jude feels a surge of something so potent and sudden that he has to remind himself that he has vowed not to be that guy that cries at the wedding.

“Jude, we met seven years ago, and I barely noticed, because I was so wrapped up in what I thought my life should be. I was supposed to be a priest, I was so certain of that, working so hard to be the man I was born to be, that I didn’t notice you. But you noticed me.” Sebastian barely glances at the piece of paper now, so deeply are the words embedded in his mind. “For a while, we found our ways to be together, and it would always have been enough for me, any part of you would be enough...I never thought I could give you the life you deserved, marriage and a home...I thought to be together would be to damn us both...and then I lost you.” Sebastian looks him levelly in the eye. “I lost you and it was the singular, most painful thing that has ever happened to me. But the moment I saw you again...I found myself wanting to thank God for you. When I hadn’t thanked him in a long time.”

His fingers squeeze Jude’s gently.

“Jude you, and you alone are worth all the trials, and all the pain. Because you are the only person I have ever loved, and if I’m lucky, I’ll get to be with you for the rest of my life.”

Sebastian folds his paper with shaking hands and puts it back in his pocket, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Jude grounds him with the press of his fingers before reaching for his own vows, unfolding the page nervously.

“Seb...I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen. When I first saw you, I thought you were, quite possible the most beautiful man I’d ever met...and later I saw that you were kind, and smart, and someone who I clearly would never be good enough for. You tried to help me, no matter how much it cost you. You would rather have died miserable than hurt me, and that...that is something I never would have been strong enough to do. And when it came to it, you tried to save me the best way you knew how, so you left. But the man I met two years ago, the one I asked to marry me? He’s still as kind, smart and beautiful as he was before...he’s just happier now. I’m so grateful I got to make that happen. And now...I get to keep you.” Jude smiles shakily and meets Sebastian’s eyes, which are already slightly shiny.

Father Franklyn and Aaron produce their rings and pass them to the commissioner, who lays them on her open folder of notes.

“Inasmuch as you have made this declaration of your vows concerning one another, and have set these rings before me, I ask that now these rings be used and regarded as a seal and a confirmation and acceptance of the vows you have made.” Natasha prompts.

Sebastian takes a ring and slides it onto Jude’s finger. Jude returns the gesture, placing the second ring alongside Seb’s engagement band.

“And now, forasmuch as you, Jude and Sebastian have consented to legal wedlock, and have declared your solemn intention in this company, before these witnesses, and in my presence, and have exchanged these rings as the pledge of your vows to each other; now upon the authority vested in me by the Province of British Columbia, I pronounce you as duly married. May you enjoy peace and contentment of mind, as you day by day live and fulfil the terms of this covenant you have made with one another.”

Jude realises that it’s done. They’re married. He leans forwards and kisses Sebastian before he remembers that his Father is watching. He doesn’t care. Seb kisses him back and their guests, struck into silence until that moment, applaud fiercely.

Jude tugs his husband’s hand, turning him to face the crowd.

Chapter Twenty-Five

After congratulations have been wished on them by every guest save one, and they have all left the room to be reorganised into a dining room, Seb and Jude stand in the foyer eating canapés and sipping champagne with the rest of their guests.

Samuel is nowhere to be seen.

“He left didn’t he?” Jude sighs to Sebastian.

“I haven’t seen him.” His husband says apologetically. “At least he came.”

Yeah...at least he came.” Jude agrees, eye trailing to the hotel’s front door of their own volition.

“Mr Gray?”

Both men turn as Mark walks towards them, holding a plain white envelope.

“A gentleman left this for you at the front desk.”

Jude takes the envelope silently, thumbing open the top and sliding out a thin piece of paper.

Jude,

We were saving this as a graduation gift, and had a little more put aside for your wedding from before you started college.

It’s all we can offer you right now, I hope you understand.

I’m glad I didn’t miss today.

Love Dad.

With the note is a cheque for three thousand dollars.

Jude had worked out a good while ago that Sebastian mattered more to him that whatever the church had to say. Father Franklyn had seen to that. He’d just never thought that maybe one day his family might decide he was worth at least a little more to them than the gospel.

Sebastian’s hand touches his shoulder.

Hey.” The older man says softly. “Are you alright?”

I’m good.” Jude forces himself to control the water gathering in his eyes. “Let’s go to the reception.” He adds playfully. “Mr Gray.”

Walker-Gray.” Sebastian corrects softly. “You still have your family, you should still have their name.”

...Ok.” Jude says eventually as he takes Seb’s hand. “Walker-Gray it is.”

The room is still sunny and yellow, scented with roses and filled with the same cheery crowd as before, yet it feels different. The nervous anticipation of the wedding has dissipated into something finer, something comfortable and warm. Jude and Sebastian sit at the top table with Father Franklyn and Aaron, a lit candle at the centre of it, surrounded by tightly cinched rosebuds. Waiters serve up bowls of roast tomato soup with pumpkin seed pesto. Sebastian laughs softly at one of Aaron’s jokes.

Jude feels the crinkling of paper in his suit pants pocket.

It’s a new start.

That night, when the last guest has departed the starry reception room for the world outside, and Aaron has gone to bed, Jude takes Sebastian back to their room. The older man shrugs off his suit jacket and drops it over the edge of the couch, toeing his shoes off with a sigh. Jude takes the champagne from the fridge where he had placed it earlier, cracking open the cork to pour them each a glass.

Here’s to today.” Jude hands Seb a glass and watches the older man’s face light up.

Here’s to the last seven years.” Sebastian raises his glass.

Jude sits down beside him and lays his head against Sebastian’s shoulder.

My Father’s came to our wedding.” He says.

Yes.” Sebastian kisses the top of Jude’s head.

You’re my husband.”

Mmmhmmm.” Sebastian holds him closer.

And we’re staying in an...amazing hotel...for the rest of the week.”

We...what?” Sebastian sits up straight.

I’m using some of the money, from my Dad, to give us a proper start to our honeymoon.” Jude tells him. “Then...I was thinking maybe we should go see Vatican City. We can save the rest.”

Jude...” Sebastian touches the side of his husband’s face. “That would be...amazing.”

I’m glad, not so bad for an idea I came up with over dinner.” Jude shrugs, then grins. “That and, I got Mark to get us together some more cake, he’s sending it up in an hour...since we were both too nervous to eat lunch.”

So...we wouldn’t be going back to the apartment for...about a month?”

Yeah, but, I thought Andy could look after Elijah once his stay in kennels is up.” Jude shrugs.

It’s not that...it’s...” Sebastian looks suddenly quite torn. “It’s your wedding present.”

You got me a gift?” Jude brightens.

It’s more something I did...or, had done.”

...is it a tattoo?”

Sebastian slaps Jude’s knee lightly.

I...may have gotten Andy and Marianne, with help from Aaron on his layover, to paint our apartment.”

You decorated?”

You wanted a red bedroom, and a green bathroom.” Sebastian shrugs. “I thought it would be a nice surprise to go home to...but I can’t wait for you to see it...sorry for ruining it.”

Jude hugs him, knocking his empty champagne flute to the carpeted floor.

You’re already the best husband I’ve ever had.” Jude confides.

Glad to hear it.”

And, we’ll go back to the apartment eventually, and I promise to still act surprised.” Jude buries his face in the curve of Seb’s neck.

They will get back to real life eventually. Back to work and home. To weekly phone calls to Aaron and Father Franklyn. To Elijah peeing on the floor at one in the morning, and one of them keeping the bed warm while the other cleans it up. They might even build a few bridges between Seattle and Old Town Folsom.

In a month, maybe more, he and Sebastian would start building their married life together.

Jude was the first to acknowledge that some things took time to come full circle.

It was just their nature.