Devil at the Vatican (BL)

Chapter 33

The townspeople's guilt hung heavy in the air. Everything on the coastal town was dreary and quiet. Elio rode on the horse behind Father Marcel. His open crotch fit snug against the priest's firm ass and his stomach rested against his back. Elio had to mutter John 3:16 over and over again just to divert his pending erection. 

His hands found themselves at Marcel's sides, but he barely held on in fear of feeling too much. He'd just done way with Jonah's pestering. He couldn't give into another temptation, even if it was one he wanted more than life itself. 

When they arrived at the next coastal town on Cinque Terre, about a half day's ride south, Marcel took the outside roads where there would be fewer people. This town did not grow lemons like the previous town and looked to be almost exclusively a fishing village. It was alive and vibrant with sounds of children, old friendships, and working men. This would have been a better town to stop at. 

"I know they might kill me in Rome," he murmured to the priest.

"They won't. I'll make sure of it."

The road became uneven, and Elio had to grab hold of Marcel to stay upright. He heard Father Marcel's breath hitch when he did this. He also felt his own heat build in the slim space between their bodies. 

"How are you sure?"

The priest said nothing, as Elio suspected he might.

Elio continued, "Is it because you made a pact with Jonah? Or rather... Jonah made a pact with you?"

"I do not know what lies he's told you, but I can assure you that whatever I've done, I've only done for your best interests."

"Why can't you tell me?" Elio's fingers slowly crawled forward onto Marcel's chest, grabbing the cloth there as his arms tightened around him. He pressed his face against Marcel's strong, wide back and breathed in the scent of him. 

"I am not your hero, Elio," the priest murmured. "You think too highly of me."

"I don't think of you as good. I think you're strong and reasonable. You're smart and you have given me kindness, even after the things I have done."

"You aren't to blame for Jonah's crimes."

"But I will be punished for those crimes."

"I won't let them kill you Elio."

"Because of the pact, right? Otherwise, you would." Elio squeezed the priest. He didn't want such things to be true, and maybe if he held onto Marcel tight enough, they wouldn't be. The scent of the priest was that of rain and regrets. Elio craved the unholiest of matrimony with him.

"Yes, because of the pact."

A dry sob escaped Elio, like a tearless cry. He pressed his face between Marcel's shoulder blades. They were close enough for him to feel the priest's thrashing heart and feel the way he breathed heavily now. 

Suddenly Marcel halted the horse and jumped from the beast's back, marching into the forest from Elio's sight. He was gone for a few minutes, leaving Elio and the horse lingering in each other's presence. When he returned, face soaked in such a sweat that his hair stuck to his forehead, and said, "We can't ride like this. Scoot up. I'll be in the back."

Elio did as he said. The priest seemed to know this was a bad idea immediately upon mounting behind him as he grabbed the reins from around Elio's lean torso. Once the horse moved, its gentle rocking motion made their proximity unbearable. 

"God of Power, You created us in Your image and likeness," Marcel prayed behind Elio, looking at the path ahead from behind him. Elio moved back on the saddle, slowly enough to avoid obvious detection. His rear pushed into Marcel's groin and he heard the priest's breath hitch. "E-even when w-we sinned against You, You did not abandon us."

They rode on with Marcel whispering some indiscernible prayer as they passed the village. They made camp that night once the sun had set, finding a small opening in the woods beside a fallen tree. Marcel used the tree and some branches he found to make a tent for the night. They made a fire and at some of the fruit and dried meats the former village gave them. 

"Why do you crave me?" Elio asked Marcel suddenly as they sat on opposite sides of the fire. He drew his knees up to his chest and watched the flames. Such questions burned at him for a while now, and it only seemed suiting to confess them now.

Marcel sighed and tossed a twig in the fire, which ate it with a small crackle. "You remind me of myself when I was your age."

"You aren't far off from my age, Father."

This made Marcel smile. "I've been in this world for three decades, Elio. I am far from your age. I was raised in the priesthood. At your age, all I knew was the Good Word and exorcisms. And all I wanted to do was please my elders." 

He paused and Elio didn't say anything.

"It's your fight, Elio. None of this is your fault, as none of it was my fault when I was born. The curse of a Cursed Child is a tragic one."

"On the ship, you said you were a Cursed Child, one of eleven who have can harness their demon's power to fight evil. And you believed I could be the twelfth."

"Pact or no pact, Elio... I still believe that."

"But you were willing to let them kill me if I couldn't."

"Before, yes," Marcel said, meeting Elio's gaze. "I won't lie to you. Yes, I would have let them kill you. And your demon Jonah... he's inspired me I guess."

"Tell me," Elio said, moving to his knees so that he could see Marcel's face easier over the fire... so Marcel could not hide. "Tell me for real Marcel... please."

"It was this pact or your life." Marcel's deep brown gaze caught Elio and held onto him. His face reddened from some emotion Elio couldn't read, but it wasn't entirely a bad one. "Yes, I could have let you die last night and it wouldn't have been a great loss for the Vatican. It... It would have been a great loss to me though. I couldn't let go of you, so I risked damnation instead."

"Come here."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. Come to me."

Marcel got up slowly and walked over to where Elio was on his knees. He ran a hand through Elio's hair, which had grown considerably in their journey. "You need a haircut."

Elio caught his hand and placed his face into Marcel's wide warm palm. He then snatched Marcel onto his knees before him. He grabbed the priest's face and kissed him with more hunger than he knew. His body ignited. Control was nonexistent now.

Marcel's hands quickly invaded Elio, gripping his arms, sides, ass, and thighs. Their lips fit perfectly together, pressed hard enough to make Marcel groan. Elio opened his mouth to him and tasted him. He found him savory, needy. It matched his own desperate need. Every part of him tensed under the sheer pleasure of this kiss, of Marcel's hands. His erection stretched his pants and was met with the poke of Marcel's. 

Without a second thought, Elio tore Marcel's shirt open, revealing his beautiful chest, as his kisses travelled there. He took bites out of Marcel's neck, which earned him a hard shove to the ground. But then Marcel was on top of him and their hardness pressed against each other. 

Their eyes met, almost glowing from the nearby fire. Elio needed him. He needed to taste Marcel's cock. He needed to feel his pubic hair tickle his nose and chin when he sank his mouth all the way to the hilt. He needed to feel more of Marcel's hands on him, tearing him apart. 

"I love you," Elio said suddenly, so caught up in the moment that he forgot who he was, where he was. 

And just like that... the spell was broken.

The light died in Marcel's eyes, replaced by the gallows of fear. He practically threw himself off Elio as though the young man were on fire. 

Elio sat up, stammering, "I mean... I... Marcel, I just meant that..."

"Don't explain," Marcel said. "It's time for us to sleep."

With that, the priest climbed inside the tent. Elio sat alone outside for a while, watching the fire slowly die out. He then pissed on it to put it out and climbed in the small tent as well, finding Marcel sound asleep.