Good Christian - Chapter 07

GOOD CHRISTIAN

Chapter 7: Take me to Church

I usually had the house to myself on Sunday mornings, as Grace left early to help Father Sinnal prepare for Mass.

I thought this Sunday would be like any other, but of course with Christian home, everything was bound to be different.

At 9 a.m., someone knocked on my door.

I was awake, but I was scrolling on my phone.

My TikTok algorithm knew me way too well. No matter how many times I swiped, I still found more guys flexing their biceps and flaunting their armpits, or doing stupid trends to show off their abs, sticking out their tongues, or even twerking.

Wait, no, now they were “dwerking”!

It was as if every guy was competing to display the most outrageous VPL (visible penis line) to get the most views.

It worked for them—I stayed tuned.

Anyway, I closed TikTok and told Christian to come in.

I already knew it was him.

“Mornin’, Harry.”

“Good morning, Mister Holmes.”

“What are you still doing in bed?”

Rude!

He was lucky he was wearing that sexy gray tank top, or I would have talked back to him.

I sat up in my bed.

“Was I supposed to be doing something? A chore?”

“It's Sunday morning. We have church.”

Apparently, he had not received the memo that I did not go to church.

The very first week we lived together, Grace had invited me to go with her.

I told her that I was not a Christian and therefore did not feel comfortable going. She did not insist and the subject never came up again.

The truth is, I was kind of scared that my body would start burning for my so-called homosexual sins if I dared to walk inside a church.

“I don't go to church, sir. I’ve told you, I respect everyone’s faith, including yours, but I’m not a Christian or a Catholic myself.”

“That's bullshit. You live under my roof, and you will go to church on Sunday mornings. That’s the rule.”

“But I—”

“No but. Go take a shower, get dressed formally, and we'll leave in 30 to 45 minutes.”

He left the room, leaving me no time to respond.

Damn he was hot, but he could be annoying too.

I considered my options and thought that I could legit say no. In fact, this might be the first time I would go against Christian Holmes’ instructions.

Nevertheless, I woke up and went to take a shower. I needed one to clear my thoughts anyway.

There was no dirty underwear waiting for me in the bathroom.

Too bad. Christian was not in a playful mood while we were alone at home.

I decided to wear a pair of black pants and a white shirt because, why not? But I was still unsure about going when I got downstairs.

Christian was sitting in the kitchen with his Bible; he seemed quite invested in whatever he was reading but he relaxed as soon as he saw me.

I was even awarded a warm smile!

“Now you look like a proper young man.”

“I'm still not sure I'm going to go.”

“You are. I’ll take you.”

“You do realize that I don't believe in all of this. I mean, I won’t believe or trust whatever the priest might tell us. To me, it's not worth more than a YouTube girl doing story-times. I don't mean to be disrespectful.”

I could tell I lost him with the story-times on YouTube. He was not familiar with the concept.

He did not budge or get mad.

“Religion is not only about faith, Harry. It’s about community. Grace and I have always been active members of this community, and people look up to us. Anyone living in our household has to go to church. I’m not asking you to believe in God or Father Sinnal’s sermons. I'm asking you to do this for me, as a gesture.”

Shit.

He was good with the guilt-tripping.

What could I say to that?

“Okay. Fine, then. I’ll go. As a gesture for you and Grace.”

“Thank you, Harry. I’ll go change. You can eat some breakfast, and we can meet in the car in fifteen minutes.”

So, no skinny dipping this morning? No quick glance at his cock? No ejaculation on the door or kitchen table?

That was disappointing.

Maybe Christian’s limit was that he could not do anything on the Lord’s Day.

Who knew how his perverted brain worked?

I still thought it was ridiculous for me to go to church, but it was not such a big ask, and I could do it for the sake of their generosity.

The latest developments made the living arrangement peculiar (to say the least), but the Holmes family did welcome me into their home and had been helping me for virtually no compensation.

I had to try to give back to them.

As I thought this, I realized how hypocritical it was of me to lust after Christian when his wife had been so good to me.

Christian reappeared moments later in his military uniform, complete with insignia and decorations sewn onto his jacket, and I instantly forgot all my doubts.

Sorry Grace—her husband was simply too fucking handsome!

Oh well, I would get in the car with him, be the passenger princess I deserved to be, and everything would be all right.

The drive to the church turned out to be short but intense.

For the first couple of minutes, I thought it would just be awkward.

We were sitting so close to each other while not mentioning any of the weird stuff going on between us. Tension was definitely in the air.

In fact, we drove in complete silence aside from the country music playing on the radio.

Could he be any more of a stereotype?

But things changed when Christian put his right hand on my left thigh while driving.

It came out of nowhere, mid-ride, and I was stunned.

“The formal look is really good on you, Harry.” He said, looking at the road in front of him.

What the hell was he doing?

“We… we're going to church. Mister Holmes, I… I'm not sure this is appropriate.” I blurted out.

Honestly, I was just freaking out.

“What is?”

Okay, so he wanted to play dumb.

“You're hard to read sometimes, Mr. Holmes.” I simply said.

He chuckled but did not let go of my thigh.

“I think we're past the 'Mister Holmes' stuff, right? Maybe you can call me Christian from now on.”

“You're sure?”

“I am.”

“Well, you're hard to read, Christian.” I repeated.

He finally let go of my thigh and grinned.

“Maybe you think that way because you're such an open book yourself.”

“Am I? I don’t feel like it.”

“Come on, guys like you are all the same.”

I knew exactly what he meant by guys “like me” and I took offense to that.

“Oh, so I'm easy to figure out because I’m gay?”

Christian did not seem bothered.

“Basically, yes. Fruity boys are built differently. Look, it’s not your fault. God made you that way, but you’re made to search for dicks. Like your peers, that’s all you care about: Big, fat cocks down your throat and in your shithole.”

Again, I was taken aback albeit slightly turned-on by hearing him say those words.

“That’s not true. I care about many things in life. I study engineering. I have a life ahead of me… I…”

He puffed.

“And I'm in the army! What difference does it make? Everybody has their thing, doesn’t prevent us from being men with libidos. See, I’m very much straight, so my mind doesn’t look for dicks; it looks for holes. If I listened to myself, I’d be ramming holes all fucking day, and night.”

“We’re not so different then.”

He shrugged.

“To achieve anything in life, we have to learn to tame our urges first. This is a life-long battle. But I’ve seen how it is with the fruits; they just can’t. They’d sell their mothers and fathers to give a blowjob to a real man.”

“Where do you get all this knowledge from? From the couple of gay guys, you met in the army?”

We stopped at a red light.

“A couple? Are you kidding? The army is probably the place on earth with the most dick suckers.”

“Come on…”

“It makes sense, doesn't it? By enlisting, they know they’ll be forced to live with real men, share the same barracks and showers. It’s like prison—a paradise for cum dumpsters!”

“Oh, so that’s how it goes when you’re deployed? You barely settle and immediately look for the ones who’d be willing to suck dicks?”

“What happens at the barracks stays at the barracks. And don't get me wrong; I think the cock-suckers are an important part of society. I believe in God's Plan, and I believe they're here for a reason, as are you.”

“And what would that be?”

“To empty the balls of real men while their wives preserve themselves.”

I was trying to push him a little, get to the bottom of his thoughts, but that answer really threw me off.

It also made me horny. I bricked in my formal pants which I hated, because it confirmed his stupid point that I was so easily manipulated by my libido.

Damn it.

There was still one thing he said that did not make sense, though.

How could he pretend that gay men were worse than straight men when it came to their sexual life or cravings? That did not sit well with me.

“And that's the good Christian thing to do, I suppose, to empty your balls in a guy’s throat while your wife is away.” I finally said as we got closer to the church.

“I thought you didn't care about religion.”

“Personally, I don’t. I’m just curious how throat-fucking another dude works with you going to church every Sunday morning. Seems pretty contradictory to me.”

See, who was the one resisting temptation now?

I bet he did not expect me to challenge him like that.

“Who said I was doing it?”

“Come on, Christian. I wasn’t the one chasing after your cock this week. You were the one who insisted on showing it to me… And more than once.”

And just like that, the cat was out of the bag.

“You didn't like it?” He said, showing real signs of annoyance for the first time.

“That’s not the point.”

“What is the point, then?”

Christian parked the car.

I played tough but my hands were slightly trembling, my heartbeat had accelerated, and my dick was still throbbing in my pants.

“I guess the question is… What are we doing? What was it all about, your test, your games, you fucking jizzing in the middle of the hallway?”

He sighed and finally looked at me.

Suddenly, he looked much younger, much more innocent.

“Can't a man enjoy life a little? Can’t a man have some harmless fun with his guests? I thought you enjoyed it…”

“He can, and… I… I did.”

“Look, I’ve been a faithful, stand-up husband for many years. I’m still trying to be.”

Someone tapped on Christian’s window, making us both jump.

We were not doing anything suspicious per se; we were just talking, but still, we had to be careful.

Christian opened the door.

“Milton! How nice to see you again!” He exclaimed, in a completely different tone.

“And you! Look at you, all dressed up, showing off those insignias.”

“You know how it is. Grace wants me to look good for church.”

Milton and Christian hugged as I got out of the car.

Milton was a middle-aged man, older than Christian, but I doubted he was much over fifty.

He was wearing a nice suit and had quite the silver fox look.

Just to be clear, he was not near as good looking as Christian, but I suppose that it is not the point.

“And she's absolutely right. I’m glad you’re home, Christian. Do you know when you’re going back?”

“No, not yet. You know how it is, often last minute.”

“Sadly, yes. I’m all too aware. My son stayed with us for the summer, but he was called back last September for God knows how long. Amanda is worried sick anytime he’s deployed.”

“Jeremiah, is it?”

“Yes.”

“And where is he?”

“Guam.”

“I see. Well, Amanda can be reassured, he should be good, and of course, you must be very proud. Jeremiah has always been a fine young man.”

“He has been. Speaking of which, who is this?”

Fuck. I thought I could make it through the entire conversation without being noticed.

“Sorry, this is Harry Carson. Grace has probably mentioned that her mother had to move to Florida to live with my sister-in-law. We decided to welcome the foreign student who was living at her place in our home.”

“That’s so commendable! Nice to meet you, Harry.”

I shook his (damp) hand.

“Nice to meet you too, sir.”

“I don’t recall seeing you around church much. Even when Elizabeth was coming. She never missed her service, just like Grace.”

“Huh… No, I… I haven’t been…”

“In fact, Harry's recently become very interested in learning about God. How beautiful is that?” Christian explained.

What the fuck was he on about now?

Milton nodded.

“Better late than never, I suppose.”

“Exactly. Should we get going? We wouldn't want to miss the service.”

“Sure, after you gentlemen.”

I already regretted coming.

I hated them all, with their judgmental comments and passive-aggressiveness. Milton was the first of three people to notice that they had “never seen me around” before.

In what way was it any of their business?!

The mass was actually better than all the chit-chat and hypocrisy beforehand.

At least the priest was fairly young and surprisingly easy on the eyes.

Take away the robe, and he might actually be my type.

I bet Father Sinnal was younger than Christian and at first glance, he did not seem too moralizing or old-fashioned.

He did give a whole sermon about the importance of being faithful to our loved ones, but what else should I have expected?

During the service, he also mentioned Christian directly, and everyone looked in our direction.

“Speaking of being faithful, I'd like to nod to two of our dearest parishioners: Grace and Christian Holmes. Grace, whom you all know, had the pleasure of seeing her husband return from a six-month deployment in the Middle East. Thank you for your loyalty to our community, and to our country, we all admire your bravery, sir. God will reward you for your good work.”

Christian raised a hand and nodded humbly.

Grace was not sitting with us because she was also part of the choir—of course she was—but I caught the exact moment when she noticed me sitting in the pews near her husband.

She formed an "O" with her mouth.

In any case, the service ended, and I remained seated as almost everyone else—the baptized—walked toward the altar to receive communion.

I spent much more time reflecting on my choices than listening to the sermon, but I supposed that self-reflection was one of the perks of going to church.

That being said, I had not moved very far in my thinking.

Our earlier conversation had not given me any indication of what Christian wanted except that maybe he had no idea either.

Despite the self-assured way he conducted himself, I could tell that he was as lost as I was.

When the mass was over and people started walking away, I thought I was in the clear.

At the very least, I had not burst into flames inside the church.

Unfortunately, I had not taken into account that the priest himself would want to speak with me.

Goodness! It seemed like such a big deal to have a new face in church. Get over it, guys.

He walked toward me, Grace following quickly behind.

“Christian, what a pleasure to see you among us.” He first said.

“That was a beautiful sermon, Father. And thank you for mentioning me; you shouldn't have.”

“Oh, please. This church owes so much to your family. Not only this church—I see that your protégé is here.”

He looked at me.

A protégé? Me? Since when?

“Father, Harry is just a brilliant student staying with us to finish his degree.” Grace said.

She was visibly nervous.

“Still, it is very gracious of you to welcome him into your home. You would make our Lord and Savior proud. How is it going, Harry?”

“I’m fine. Thank you.”

It was the first time in my life I was talking to a religious figure of any kind.

“I noticed you haven't received communion.”

“I… I'm not baptized.”

“And yet, you're here. Listening to God’s wisdom. Following his righteous path. That’s glorious.”

“Harry insisted on coming this morning. He wanted to see what we were talking about when we mention the church's blessings at home.” Christian lied outright.

He was good; he seemed so sincere as he said it. Was it not a major sin, though? Lying, and to a priest, inside a church to top it off!

Father Sinnal put his hand on my shoulder.

“How wonderful it is to witness first-hand what being put in the right environment can do for a man. You know, Harry, the church can help you. I can help you.”

He tightened his grip on me.

“Huh… I… Thank you, but I'm not sure I need any—”

He cut me off.

“Everybody struggles at some point. We're all confronted with sin, but we can choose to look the other way and walk toward God instead. I believe that is what you did this morning when you felt God calling you.”

I had not felt God calling me as much as I had felt Christian's bulge enticing me to agree to everything, he asked of me.

However, I could hardly say that to a priest.

“I'll keep that in mind.” I said noncommittally, getting increasingly bothered by his paternalistic ways.

But the worst part had not come yet. The priest had more wisdom to share.

“I've personally known many men like you, fighting the same urges, and they all ended up seeing the light.”

“Wait. What exactly are you talking about, men like me?”

Grace’s face faded behind the priest.

“Well, Grace told me about your struggles and…”

“You’re not talking about my sexuality, are you?” I snapped.

“Oh, please, there's no need to put it like that. It's just… your tendencies. I understood you were having some difficulties finding a woman.”

I looked at the priest and then at Grace, appalled.

“Damn. I'm speechless right now.” I told them.

“Father, I think we should go.” Grace said, trying to keep her composure, but she was not fooling anyone.

What the hell had she said to her priest? How was that appropriate?

Now at least, I knew why she was not so adamant about having me go to church. She had confided in others about my big struggle with not being able to be with a woman.

She should have cared more about keeping her man in her bed!

I was furious, but I kept my cool. I could not cause a scene here.

I glanced at Christian. Once again, he was very good at keeping a poker face.

“I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to be intrusive.” Father Sinnal apologized. “All I’ll say is, Harry, you’re welcome here anytime. The Lord is merciful and will always open his arms to you, if only you’re willing to look in his direction. Have a beautiful Sunday, everyone, and again, it was a pleasure to see you back with us, Christian.”

“Thank you, Father.”

Well, that was definitely awkward!

Grace’s face was red as we left the church, and I was closed off and silent.

As in any Christian family, the best way to deal with an issue was to bury our heads in the sand and not talk about it.

In all fairness, it was not that much different back in Great Britain with my own parents.

“Since we came in two different cars, maybe Harry could come back home with me?” Christian suggested, breaking the ice carefully.

“Yes, let's do that. Thank you, honey. It’s great that you came, Harry.”

Grace tried to smile but it looked like a grimace.

I bet she was mad too. Looking good at that church was her main purpose in life. Ridiculous!

“Yeah… Great…” I mumbled, not willing to make much an effort.

Once we were in the car, Christian sort of apologized, or at least came as close to it as he could.

“Father Sinnal should wait for the privacy of confession to bring up such matters. He’s an excellent priest, and the parish is very lucky to have him, but he’s still fairly young and inexperienced. He can lack tact.”

“I don’t care about what he said.”

“Okay then.”

“But I don't understand why Grace had to tell him anything about me. I’m not some freak who needs to be cured.”

“To be cured? Certainly not. A freak? Hmmm… Are you sure you’re not?”

Christian started driving with a smirk on his face.

It seemed like we were not done with our conversation.

“Please. If I'm a freak, what does that make you?”

“Everyone sins. We’re all human beings.”

“About that—while we were at church, I thought about the games we've been playing, and I think I found some clarity.”

“You did? See, the Lord works in mysterious ways.”

I decided I no longer owed any loyalty to Grace in that instant.

I breathed and I said:

“Yep, and I think you're right. I’m drawn to you, and I’m drawn to your dick.”

I put my hand on his crotch.

It was a crazy, bold move, and it was not only because he was driving. I was initiating something for the first time.

Christian gasped.

“Harry.”

“But I’m not the only one driven by his libido. I think you are, too. Grace isn’t giving you what you want or deserve. And I’m right here.”

I felt his dick under his pants. I caressed it.

The best part was to feel the cock getting hard under the fabric. I was already stiff.

“What do you think you’re doing, boy?”

Good, he was startled.

“I'm making you feel good, Christian.”

“Fuck. That’s the lesson you got from your first time at church?!”

I actually laughed at that comment.

“I guess I'm not so predictable after all.”

“All I’m saying is that I should take you to Sunday services more often.”

He was now smiling ear-to-ear.

Oh fuck, this was so hot.

I kept rubbing his big dick. He kept looking at the road in front of him.

“If I can do this to you afterwards, why not? I’m down.”

“This? I’m not sure… You're a piker and I’d need more.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You talk big, but you won't even slide your hand in my pants. I thought you were better than this.”

“Really? You think that I couldn’t do it?”

“Harry, if you want to go for it, then go for it. Open my zipper and take out my freaking cock. Then you'll really feel it and I’ll actually feel good!”