"Father, I have sinned." ~ Morwin One Shot (+18)

"Father, I have sinned."

"Father, I have sinned," Gregory murmurs, taking a position next to the confessional. He hears almost distantly the silent movement of whoever is inside it, yet the rumbling of his own heart echoes louder. He is nervous, even more so than when he must be focused during a police shooting or chase. He feels his chest tighten, full of ecstasy. He doesn't know what he's doing, yet he doesn't intend to back down.

"Mhmm..." Erwin, the fake priest inside the confessional encourages him to continue. A faint smile tints his pale face as soon as he recognizes Gregory's voice. That voice that activates his innocent mischief, his desire to get every bit of attention from that dark-haired man.

Erwin knows that Gregory already knows his secret and his hiding place there as a false priest, because it was he himself who told the policeman, just as he trusted him with every one of his secrets. So he simply wants to play along, and preferably win that game.

"Father, I have ignored my values and my promise to the police. I have purposely let a criminal escape," this time Gregory's voice sounds louder.

Erwin chuckles softly at these words, denying in amusement as he confirms that that officer of the law had not been so stupid as to lose him in the previous police chase. A warm feeling invades his chest, he feels protected by Gregory, something bubbles deliciously inside him, making it impossible for him to hide the blush on his cheeks. He is grateful that the confessional keeps that secret for him. 

"Besides," the policeman continues, "I must confess something even worse." A new silence settles between the two men. Although they cannot see each other's faces directly, they both feel the heavy air, difficult to breathe at the tone of voice used by the brown-skinned man.

A sigh makes way for his words, "Mr. Priest, I think I love someone I shouldn't.

A gasp echoes from inside the confessional. Erwin doesn't know what to say or what to feel. It is unexpected, but he shamelessly hopes in secret to know who it is. "Tell me more, Son," he continues the game of being the priest.

"Mr. Priest, I think I love someone who goes against my values, and yet I hope daily to see him succeed." Erwin swallows hard as he listens to Gregory. 

 "Go on."

"Mr. Priest, I think I love someone who seems to even hate me, but I crave even his cruel words daily just to hear him speak to me."

Erwin's chest constricts, beginning to understand who it is. "What else?" 

 "Mr. Priest, I think I love someone who always runs away from me, who slips away from me like sand through my fingers, and yet I enjoy seeing him free, knowing that he always comes back to me."

Erwin plays with his fingers, nervous, soaking in the tender words of Gregory, who continues to speak, "Mr. Priest, I think I love someone I shouldn't, he messes up my life and makes it chaotic, but fills it with color and warmth. I need to have him around me, I need to take care of him, and be nurtured by him."

They both feel their hearts thud, and their cheeks burning. A sweet fire burns in their chests, melting little by little their fears.

"And... do you regret?" whispers Erwin, that false priest, being afraid to know the answer. 

 A low chuckle escapes Gregory. How could Erwin even believe he could regret that? 

 "No, Mr. Priest, I am not sorry at all." He whisperingly confesses.

A soft click echoes, and the small door to the confessional opens. "Come in." Erwin commands from inside, knowing that the church was closed, that no one would come, and knowing above all that Gregory had never been religious.

Neither of them seem to mind at all. They just want to play this game together, to enjoy each other, to open up and discover a new world just for them. Gregory enters the small confessional, that cubicle where no light could enter, and closes the door behind him.

He doesn't know what he is doing, and that is how he has felt since he arrived at the church that afternoon. But if there is one thing he is sure of, it is that he is not sorry.

He kneels in the tiny space between Erwin's legs, who is sitting in the wooden pew of the confessional. His head rests on one of the false priest's thighs.He inhales his musky scent, closing his eyes and enjoying the silence, the softness of the moment.

Gregory feels a hand tangling in his hair, giving tender caresses that draw sighs from his lips. 

 "Mr. Priest, I think I love someone." 

 "Yeah?" 

 "Yes, Mr. Priest, 

 I think... 

 I love 𝓎𝑜𝓊."