Another meme prompt.

Cross/Allen. Sex in a confessional.

I dunno if they've ever actually read it(the OP), but I hope they liked it. I should be sleeping right now.

-

Cross had pulled many things over the years that Allen had known him. Many of which would put any whorehouse to shame. But this, oh this, topped the list by a mile.

It had started with the women. Cross had slept with more women than Allen could count on his and twenty other people's fingers and feet. And that was just the first year Allen his apprentice. After that year, the things his Master did didn't bother him as much as they used to, well, apart from the debts. But they were a different story.

At that time, it became apparent that Cross had been sparing his disciple the knowledge of the term 'threesome', and they immediately began on the night of his first official night of being an apprentice for a year.

Things got marginally worse.

Motels began to refuse them; even with the silver cross embedded in his Master's coat, Cross used money like air, adding to their already steep debt. The Order had made attempts to find them; sending a scowling girl with long, well kept hair, even. They'd apparently taken advantage of all the debt companies also looking for them. They even paid the occasional bill, much to Allen's delight. Add the fact that the police were after them for reasons unknown to Allen, and they constantly needed to use Maria's powers to hide, life was decent; livable, even.

But what Allen assumed changed everything, was the night Cross hit on the transvestite. At first glance, anyone would have assumed him to be a woman. Long hair, petite frame, perfectly sculpted cheekbones, and rounded face. And he even wore formfitting clothes that gave the illusion of curves. Anyone, including Cross, Cross the chick-magnet and Master of Seduction, would mistake the man for a woman.

Allen, still somewhat innocent at the time, had been all but terrified at Cross's reaction. But Cross had been, too, for the fact that he'd gone against his own very loose form of a moral code. Then he'd no doubt been curious, because Cross chuckled and not complained the rest of the night. To add to that, the next night, he recruited a man. Not a transvestite, a man that had a man's haircut and wore men's clothes. He took him back to the motel, smirking the whole way before sending Allen away for the night.

He should've known things would continue to worsen.

One night, Cross had come back to the motel, drunk, complaining that both the man and woman he had tried to seduce had refused him. He'd pinned Allen to the bad and had his way with him.

And as if things couldn't get any worse…

Allen liked it.

And to keep it up?

It happened more times than he could count on both their hands and feet.

But this, oh God, he was going to Hell.

Allen didn't even remember why they had come to the church, but he regretted it now. Even though he liked the feelings coursing through his body- fuck, he loved them- this shouldn't have been happening.

They'd been sitting in the back row, listening to the Priest talk when Cross's hand fell into his lap, fingers deliberately prodding downward to get a rouse out of the boy.

"M-Master! What're you doing?" He hissed, whispering to assure the people two rows in front of them wouldn't have been able to hear them. Wasn't it already enough of a sin to be homosexual? Add this and he didn't deserve to be an Apostle of God.

"Whatever the fuck I want." Was his simple reply, as if all he had done was casually put his hand on his apprentice's knee.

"B-But we're in a church! Can't you just wait… until we get back?" This wasn't happening. He wouldn't let it happen. Well, maybe if Cross wanted to…

"There's no fun in that, my dear boy." No. That was wrong. They had fun with everything they did; everything they tried. After all, it was Cross. The most experienced person Allen had eve known. Possibly the most experienced in the world, but who was he to judge? And so, he kneaded what he found. Petite, little Allen did all he could to keep from arching into the touch and whimpering. His stupid, perverted Master… God how he loved the shit he pulled! And suddenly, he came to realize that this was the reason Cross had brought him to the church. Cross and his kinks… Allen was in for it.

"Master," He panted, "How- how… I'll make noise." He blushed, lifting his hips so that the sinful fingers wouldn't stop their caresses.

"Shut up, idiot. If you make a sound, it's your own damn fault." he growled, cupping Allen's crotch and squeezing…

"Nnahh! M-master…" Allen whimpered, letting his head fall back against the pew with a dull thud as he unconsciously revealed his neck to the pervert occupying the space next to him. The red haired man bent over, making it look as if he was just turning his head, and ran his tongue over the boy's collarbone before retreating. Apparently, the priest had become suspicious because Cross had pulled his hands into his own lap and looked up at the man.

"Amen," He said, to which all the church-goers reciprocated.

Allen looked down, blushing and squirming as Cross smirked at the priest. He called for everyone to pray and everyone got onto their knees, easing the knee-rests down and putting their hands on the pew in front of themselves. Allen copied, just as he placed his hands in front of him to pray, a larger one made its way past the waistband of his pants and boxers. His eyes widened and his form tensed as he waited for the twitch that would occur once the finger was in.

It never came. He looked at his master, face still flushed, from behind his white bangs, expecting, well, as sick as it might have been- hoping that his master would get in gear and begin stretching him. Because even Allen wasn't satisfied with the kneading of his cheeks.

"Master… are you…?" He whispered so low that it was a wonder that he could hear his own voice. He was punished by the fingernails digging into his sensitive cheeks. To hold back his yelp, he slammed his forehead, painfully, against the wooden bench on front of him. He was sure that people were staring, so he took on the pretense that was so graciously offering itself to the dirty little boy, and re-clamped his hands.

Finally getting what he wanted, he spread his knees as best he could to allow his master more room to maneuver. He was rewarded by a finger thrusting up to its knuckle inside him. He gave another muffled yelp and bit his lower lip, trying to maintain just a sliver of the control he once had.

The fingers were ripped away from his body only to be replaced by two. As he clamped a hand over his mouth, Cross repeated the motion. This time harder; with a goal. Allen let out another cry, louder than before, and his eyes glazed over. But before he could press himself harder against the hand that was sending delicious chills throughout his body, they were gone. Allen whines at the loss, turning his head to his master, finally realizing that people were beginning to rise and take their leave.

"Master…" Allen whispered, hand insistently tugging on his coat. "Are we going to finish…?" He feared for the answer, because even though Cross seemed to always be ready for some action, he'd stopped them on a few occasions, right as things had become hot.

"Baka, stand up." he commanded, dragging Allen to his feet when the boy had hesitated. Passing by the priest, Cross smirked and stuck his soiled fingers to his face before sensually (and sexily, dare Allen say out loud) running his tongue over them and inserting them, slowly, into his mouth. Allen choked, face flushing darker than he'd ever thought possible. Another second and Allen was positive he would spontaneously combust.

The priest looked horrified, and he didn't even know the full story behind the fingers. Even if he knew what had happened to them, surely he wouldn't hypocritical and shun them for it. After all, he'd heard of priests… with younger boys. Boys half as young as Allen himself.

After releasing the fingers with a loud 'pop', Cross continued to smirk as he nodded at the older man, continuing to drag Allen down the aisle until they were standing in front of the confessional.

He was shoved in before he could react, pushed against the bench, pants and boxers pooled at his ankles and a hand wrapped tightly around his erection. The white haired boy arched into the touch, begging the older man to continue with his earlier caresses. He wanted it now. Bad.

"Tsk," the older man clicked his tongue and moved his finger to Allen's backside again, gaining another loud gasp of pleasure from the younger boy. He skipped straight to three fingers, feeling impatient with the kid.

Allen arched higher, allowing more room than necessary for the slender fingers to stretch him. "M-Master… please. I'm ready, no more teasing!" He pleaded, wanting a good fuck by the older man. He was never denied sex, but foreplay was never up to him. If Cross wanted to take it slow, he would. If he wanted a blowjob, he'd get it. And Allen was always more than happy to oblige; to play along with the older man's games. But today was different; today they were in a hurry and needed completion.

"Fucking horny idiot," Cross growled, completely forgetting that he was the one with today's brilliant idea. Not that Allen minded it. In an instant, the man had his pants pulled down to his knees and was positioning himself at the stretched entrance in front of him. He pressed in all at once, the boy's walls instantly trying to keep him out, then giving in and refusing to let him fully leave. He pulled back and snapped his hips forward, successfully shaking the wooden walls of the small confessional.

Somewhere that seemed miles and miles away from the fucking buddies, a door clicked open.

Cross repeated the motions as his finger nimbly tugged on the untouched erection in front of him. The silver eyed boy never disappointed with how tight he was. Every time they fucked, he seemed to tighter than the last. Which was completely contradictory, but they didn't seem to care. Quite the opposite, Cross rammed into the boy as he cried out for his master to finish him. They were being to loud; they both knew it, they just couldn't bring themselves to care.

Allen desperately pushed back against Cross, getting him to slam against his prostate and invoke more pleasurable feelings than only moments before. His breath was already coming in short, quick rasps, and Allen knew he wouldn't last much longer.

"M-master!" He gasped, pushing himself farther than physically possible into the redhead. "I-I'm coming! God, please!" He gasped out, the fingers tightening around him in a vice-like grip as he tried to rock forward enough for him to squeeze tighter around Cross. His release shook him. He couldn't think, or see, for a full minute. When his senses finally came back, he could feel Cross continuously slamming into him, and somewhere farther away, a door slammed. Loudly.

Cross didn't seem to notice, or perhaps he just didn't care, because he had just let out a soft groan and came within Allen's tight heat. He immediately pulled away and began to pull his pants up, Allen following soon after.

When they finally stepped out, the priest was there. Along with a cop or two. Or maybe fifteen.

Needless to say, they were never welcome in any church in Europe again.

-

End.

Well, I've recently discovered that I get a whole 4-5 hours of sleep a day. It sucks. I'm exhausted, and my research paper is soo boring, so the class that used to be the easiest is now hardest because it's hard to stay awake. And a power tool at seven ten in the morning is a no-no. I'm gonna end up chopping my hand off.

Yay~ Take Control was updated. I'm happy for myself (even though this story sucks…).

Hope this sleep deprived girl can have at least one review for her super sexy pairings. -cough, gag*Cross/Allen* -

Again, thanks for reading. Review. It motivates me