Latter Day Sinner

Chapter 4

If Gerard had noticed anything weird about Frank's behaviour that day, he certainly didn't mention it the following Sunday. This time, Frank arrived on time, and was surprised to find that the Church was locked.
He was amused at the fact that he'd beaten the Priest to Church. It seemed almost ironic, in a way.
Frank, from where he was standing, could see the light emitting from the small home nestled on the Church grounds, but he knew better than to invite himself in. He'd come to the conclusion that he didn't have some strange crush on Gerard, and that all of his feelings were just guilt for breaking the window, and for not having been to Church in years. The more he considered it, the more ridiculous the previous notion seemed. Gerard was slightly overweight with messy hair and wrinkles. There was nothing at all appealing about him, save for his personality.
As he considered the thought, something nagged at Frank's brain, but he shrugged it off. He was being ridiculous.
Still, he figured he should keep his distance. Just in case.

Gerard walked up to the Church a few minutes later. He was already dressed in his Priest clothes, save his collar, and smiled when he saw Frank. He raised a hand to wave, but as he did, hit a dip in the grass with his cane. Frank watched, as if in slow motion, as the man's body shook with unsteadiness, before he fell to the floor.
Luckily, Frank's reflexes kicked in fairly quickly, and he made his way over, his feet moving more quickly than he thought they would in this situation. Within seconds he was crouched next to the man, hands on his arms.
"Are you okay, Father?" he asked. Gerard looked shaken, but unharmed. His weak, insincere smile and nod confirmed this, and Frank felt a wave of relief run over him.
"Yes, I'm good. Thank you," he said, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Frank found it oddly endearing, a gentle smile quirking up the side of his mouth.
"The ground is really uneven here," Frank said, almost in condolence. Gerard huffed and grabbed his cane from where it fell beside him, the knuckles in his hand white against his skin. He looked genuinely angered, and it was disconcerting to Frank, in comparison to his normally cool demeanour.
"It's this...this thing," Gerard growled. Frank rose to his feet and offered Gerard a hand which, after a moment, he accepted. Frank frowned as he watched the other man rise to his feet, his entire frame seeming to droop with his lowered mood, like it was a physical weight dragging down. Frank titled his head.
"Can I ask...why you-"
"No. Let's go," Gerard snapped, walking away from him. Frank was struck by his uncharacteristic grouchiness. Although he could see why he was reacting this way, it was a total perspective shifter. He'd seen the man as completely mild and pure. The idea that he wasn't, for whatever reason, was very intriguing to Frank.

He followed behind the other man after a moment, and was strangely offended to see him doing the job he'd given to Frank only the week before. He was walking with heavy reliance on the cane, cradling the papers in one hand and distributing them with the other. It seemed like an awkward balancing act, and Frank couldn't help but stare for a moment, waiting with the upmost suspense for the moment that Gerard would either drop the papers, or go sprawling again.
That was, of course, until he remembered that he was meant to be doing what Gerard was.
"Father!" he called, jogging up the aisle to him, "Let me."
Gerard looked up at him with a darkened, annoyed expression.
"Oh. So you're actually going to do your job?" he asked sharply. Frank physically recoiled from his tone and, for a moment, Gerard could be seen to soften.
"I...I'm sorry. I didn't-
"I don't need your help. I can do this on my own," he said tersely, pushing past him. Unfortunately for him, the side of his cane hit the pew and he stumbled, dropping some of the papers. He bit down hard on his lip, presumably to refrain from cursing. Frank couldn't blame him.
"Father-" Frank said. He picked up the papers and took the others from Gerard's hand. He smiled softly. "Maybe you don't need my help. But I want to help," he said gently, touching the man's arm. Gerard dropped his eyes, looking very ashamed of himself. Gerard covered Frank's hand with his own, looking down at Frank with a soft expression.
"Thank you, Frank. And I'm sorry, for -
"No. Father, really. I get it," he smiled gently. He didn't move his hand, but wouldn't let himself admit that it was because he was enjoying the warmth of the other man's hand on his own. Gerard's skin was soft and delicate-feeling on his own, like he'd never done a day's work in his life. It was the wrinkles that adorned his face, like intricate embroidery, and the faraway look in his eyes that gave him away. Gerard didn't move his hand either, and Frank didn't stop to wonder why.
"When you're done with this, come see me. I want to show you something," he said gently. Perhaps against his better judgement, Gerard gave Frank's hand a firm squeeze, before letting go and walking back up the aisle. Frank was turned away, but the gentle, steady click – and its sudden absence – told Frank that he got to his room without any further accidents.