The Weight of a Rosary

A/N:

Here she is, here she is, here she is! Pixie's very first Priest Gerard fic! It's been a fukin' RIDE!!

First of all thanks Cat for ever coming up with the idea for this fic, everyone say THANK YOU, CAT! Literally this story would not exist without this brilliant mind, we owe her so much. (THIS IS ALSO BEING POSTED ON CAT'S THIRTIETH BIRTHDAY FUCKING SAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY)

Thank you to my beautiful beta readers, Tiggy, Cher, Jess, Brittany, Saint, and Carley, I love you all, I would be in shambles without you.

I am @pixie_revolver over on twitter if you'd like to find another way to scream at me, I'm sorry in advance for your EMOTIONS!!!!!!!!

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The first time he'd ever used it, the noise that the whip made had actually scared Gerard a little, if he allows himself to be honest as he remembers those days. He also hadn't had a single clue what he was doing at that point, so really it was to be expected that all the new things made him start and wince.

The cracking pop of a whip, the deep thud of a paddle, the echoing whine of a moan. All of those things used to have Gerard's nerves set on edge. Looking back at the first night he'd even been here, he remembers jumping at every little sound.

These days, though, walking through the doors of The Sanctuary (the irony has never been lost on him), is just as familiar as walking into his own bedroom. The noises don't bother him anymore, and people greet him with polite smiles, and nearly excited waves. Sometimes he'll even stop to chat with someone on the way to his usual room, which at this point is almost just sort of... His room.

Like tonight. He hadn't even had to ask for the key to the room on the second floor, the woman at the counter (Bunny, is what she's called, and it's fitting with her little button nose) had just slid it over along with his ID as she gave it back to him. "Enjoy your night, G. There's someone waiting for you already, I think."

And there had been. Waiting just outside his room, was a woman, dressed in a neon pink contraption with far too many straps. Gerard couldn't fathom how long it took her to get it on properly, but she seemed happy enough in it, and wasn't at all worried about taking it off the second the door closed.

He's seen her before, once, for a session a few weeks back, and he supposes it actually feels rather good to have someone come see him more than just the one time. She trusts him, which is wonderful, because that's the whole point of all of this.

Now, as he draws the whip back, and flicks his wrist, just enough to get a proper crack between her shoulder blades, he relishes in that trust.

She cries out, something that is very nearly a sob, but she doesn't attempt to get away.

"Color?" He asks, voice soft, and she sniffles, wiping at her face. Ah, so she is crying, then.

"Uh... Yellow, I think." She says, clearing her throat.

Gerard drops his hand immediately, and walks to set the whip down amongst its fellow tools on the table before he crosses the room and gently rests a hand on top of her head. She leans into the touch with a soft sigh and another sniff. He taps the top of her skull, and she looks up at him with a tired smile, mascara on her cheeks. He looks everywhere but down where her breasts are fully exposed. "Do you want to stop for the night?"

She's quiet for a moment, mulling the idea over, and then sighs, nodding. "Probably for the best. I can already feel it."

He gives her a kind smile, and nods back at her. "You did well," He says before he pats her head and steps away. "I'll leave you to get cleaned up."