It was quite late. The church was empty and it was time for closing up. This was one of Blaine's favorite times; when he was alone with God after a day of helping the congregation and rehearsing with the choir. He was walking around the altar, putting out the candles and making sure everything was in its right place before he would lock up and retreat to the back so he could go home.

"Excuse me. Can I... can I have a word?" A light voice sounded from the middle of the aisle, nearly making Blaine jump from the startle. He knew that voice – it belonged to his number one singer in the choir.

"Of course. Mr. Hummel, I thought you had left by now," Blaine said as he turned around to have a look at the boy.

He was a pretty boy with clean features and smooth skin. He was pale and had electric blue eyes. Unlike other boys his age he dressed neatly and was respectful to others. Blaine always enjoyed having him in the church and it was a pleasure to hear him sing. He was by far the most talented in the entire choir. Blaine didn't even want to consider that there were less than two years until the boy graduated high school and he would move to New York to go to college.

"I did. But I came back," the boy said and clutched his satchel a little tighter on his shoulder.

"Is everything alright?" Blaine asked and walked down the aisle to stop in front of the boy. He looked serious and he was chewing on his lower lip. His eyes were flickering around the empty benches and his cheeks had adopted a light pink.

"I – is it too late for a confession? I just can't... stop thinking about it," the boy finally said, his voice echoing off the walls.

"It is never too late for a confession, child -" Blaine assured him and put a light hand to his bicep. The boy stared at the hand for a moment before he took a deep breath, blinked rapidly and started walking towards the confessional.

He walked with determined steps, the clicks of his boots loud through the empty church. Blaine followed him, a good meter's distance behind, his own penny loafers too soft to be heard on the hard stones. He stopped and waited for the boy to get in before he entered the small booth himself. He sat down and let the scurrying fill the small space as he opened the small window to the boy's side.

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned..." Mr. Hummel said from the other side.

He sounded like he was holding his breath. His voice was a little lighter than usual and there was a trembling to it. Blaine could never have imagined this boy to be one who could do anything worse than cross the street with red lights. And that only if he was in a hurry. He sure could be sharp in his tone if he felt like he was being treated unfairly, but he was a good kid. Whatever he was there to confess had to be serious if it was bothering him.

"Tell me your worries," Blaine said softly, hoping he could comfort the boy with his voice – let him know that it was a safe space. If he backed out of his confession last minute it wouldn't be the first time someone had done that.

"Oh no, I can't believe I'm doing this..." the teenager mumbled from the other side, his voice low and muffled from the screen separating them.

"It's okay. Take your time. We have as much time as you need," Blaine assured him patiently.

"Okay. Alright. It's... I've done something bad," the boy spat out. The words had clearly been waiting on his tongue, needing to crawl out in the open.

"I am sure it is perfectly fine, Mr. Hummel. You're a good boy," Blaine said. However, he was starting to grow worried. It wasn't like the boy to not go straight home after choir rehearsal, and it definitely wasn't like him to be so nervous before a confession – his confessions usually stuck to having eaten cake when he was on a diet or having paid more than his budget for a pair of shoes.

Admittedly, he always said that he didn't believe in God, and he was only in the choir to sing since his glee club at school didn't serve as a safe space for him the way it did for the others in the group. Normally they didn't let people join if they weren't Catholic, but Blaine had let him stay since he had been in the choir from he was little and he knew that the boy needed a place to go outside of school and home.

"This is really bad. I – I'm gay," he suddenly burst out.

If Blaine said that this came as a shock to him he would be lying. The entire town knew that the Hummel son was gay, even though he had never publicly come out. However, this was one of the reasons Blaine let him stay in the choir even though he didn't believe in God. He knew that the kid had more to juggle around than most boys his age and Blaine firmly believed that having a haven to turn to was important – maybe that could even help the boy find his way to God in the process. Of course Blaine's elder colleagues found his youthful, unconventional methods highly inappropriate. But this was Blaine's congregation now, and he was the one who would make the decisions.

"That's not bad. I know that a lot of people call that a sin – but I don't believe it is. We're all God's children. He created us in His image. God loves all His children," Blaine assured him and as so often he found it hard to have the screen separating him from the person pouring their heart out to him.

The thing was that Blaine had a feeling that being gay wasn't the boy's confession. That wasn't why he was there. He had something more, something heavier, that he needed to share.

"That's not it. It's actually – I've had thoughts – lately," the boy said insecurely, confirming Blaine's suspicion.

This was definitely where Blaine wanted to be able to look the boy in the eyes to calm him down. The issue was clearly pressuring even though it seemed like nothing more than a teenager's sexuality issues.

"That's perfectly normal. You're 16. Everyone has those thoughts," Blaine said calmly and loosened the tight grip he had been holding on his rosary since he sat down.

"Is it perfectly normal for a teenager to have thoughts about someone at least 10 years older than them?" The boy asked, taking Blaine completely off guard. He shifted on his bench, twitching his shoulders nervously and found his grip back to tighten around his rosary.

"Father?"

Blaine's throat clogged. What was he supposed to tell the kid? He couldn't exactly tell him to go home and take his issue in own hands, so to speak. But he couldn't tell the boy that it was wrong of him either, because naturally he didn't have control over his own hormones.

"Mr. Hummel – it is natural for teenage boys to have urges. The sin will only be if you act upon these. It will go over in time," Blaine said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.

"But what if I can't help myself?" The boy asked, his voice soft and suddenly not muffled by the screen any longer.

Blaine hadn't even noticed the boy opening the door to his side of the confessional. He was leaning against the doorframe, watching Blaine as he was sitting in the dark with his rosary in both hands and his ear to the screen.

"Mr. Hummel, you can't be in here. You know the rules," Blaine stammered awkwardly, unsure how to react. No one had ever come into his part of the small booth before, nor had he heard of anyone else who had ever experienced that.

The boy stood straight and looked shyly down on his feet, his fancy designer boots. He gave a dry chuckle to himself, probably from some thought that struck him, but when he looked back up at Blaine his lips were pursed and his eyes were wide.

"I know, but... does everyone have those thoughts about their priest?" The boy asked, his eyes sparkling through the dark and his voice suddenly transformed to a low fluent velvet.

"I – that's really not appropriate," Blaine stuttered.

How should he tackle this? Should he stand up and herd the boy out? Should he stay seated and explain to him that he couldn't be in there? Or should he tell him that it was completely inappropriate for him to say something like that to a man 11 years older than him? A priest even – and in God's house.

"Your name is Kurt, right? Kurt, I think... you are a healthy young boy, with healthy biology that reacts the way bodies reacts to hormones. You -" Blaine started slowly, not really sure where the boy was even going with this.

"I've seen you look at me," Kurt said, his voice still low and soft.

He was taking up the entire doorframe. The lights from the rest of the church let Kurt be nothing but a silhouette, only a few light beams streaming into the booth around his head, bathing the boy in a golden light. Kurt took a step further into the booth and was now standing right in front of Blaine, the door closing behind him to leave them in almost complete darkness.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Blaine denied, now aware of a lump in his throat.

"During rehearsals, at charity projects, when I've been helping out around here – do you really think I come here for the fun of it? I don't even believe in God," Kurt pointed out, his hands in his pockets.

Blaine awkwardly got to his feet; suddenly he realized something happening in his slacks so he needed to be careful with his movements.

When he was standing up their noses nearly touched. The teenager was the same height as him, and there was next to no space left in the booth around them.

"I think you should go. Kurt, you can't do this. I am much older than you – and I have taken a vow. I am faithful to God," Blaine tried to explain carefully, not knowing if he should be afraid to hurt the boy's feelings or if this really truly was all about hormones.

"But Father... I know that you feel it, too. If your God truly loves you, wouldn't he want you to have some love back? I've been watching you a lot. I've seen you watch me," Kurt said.

A shiver ran through Blaine as the space in his underwear felt as crowded as the space in the confessional. He couldn't help himself thinking back – he had been working a lot with the boy over the past two years; not only in the choir, but also at charity happenings and when the boy volunteered to help out at the church.

And Blaine had watched him. He had been looking at his golden hair and fair skin. He had been looking at the way he gracefully moved around, and the way he wore his individuality with pride. But he had also been seeing his lips and slender legs, his eyes and the way he stuck out the tip of his tongue when he talked excitedly. Not to mention the way he batted his eyelashes when Blaine made a casual joke, or the way his strong muscles sometimes had a hard time not showing off through the thin fabric of his button-down shirts.

Maybe Kurt had misunderstood and thought that Blaine was flirting with him during the evenings they had closed the church down together, after a long active day. Or the days Blaine had stayed to help Kurt perfect a solo he was singing in glee club at school.

Before Blaine could do or say anymore a soft hand was on his arm. The boy licked his dark red tongue around his lips, made them glisten with saliva, before he leaned in to press a kiss to Blaine's lips. In response Blaine went stiff and put a hand to the boy's shoulder to push him away as carefully, but firmly, as he could.

"Mr. Hummel, this can't -" He said, but stopped when the boy slid down his body to sit on his knees.

His hands were flailing around him. He had no idea what to do about himself – or about the boy who was on his knees, fumbling with his belt.

Oh!

He was fumbling with his belt.

Quickly Blaine clasped his hands over the boy's, his rosary dangling from his fingers. He closed his hands around Kurt's, but Kurt leaned in to place a soft series of kisses over Blaine's thumb.

"I've never been with anyone either. But I can't stop thinking about it. About you. How you -" Kurt breathed out and somehow he got his hands twisted out of Blaine's grip.

It only took him a few seconds to have Blaine's slacks open and tucked down around his thighs. He didn't waste any time; he moved directly in to lick his broad tongue up Blaine's underwear, his tongue hard against where Blaine's erection was growing against his will.

"No. No, you have to stop this -" Blaine whimpered, his voice nowhere near convincing as he felt his shorts go wet.

Without warning the teenager had his fingers curled around the elastic band of Blaine's underwear and he was paralyzed as the white fabric was suddenly sitting around his thighs with his erection growing harder, but not yet freely, against his black shirt.

The most terrible thing was that when he looked down he was frozen. His hands were in the air, his mouth ajar, and shock had him locked in a pose. He knew that he should stop the boy, but he couldn't. So he watched – watched as the boy's tongue came from his mouth and met the dry skin on Blaine's dick.

The feeling made everything inside Blaine stir up. His nerves shot to their toes and his brain curled up. His breath got caught in his throat and his head lolled forwards, his eyes shutting down. A chill ran down his spine as his brain was fighting against the pleasure spreading like a tidal wave through his veins.

"Lord, please forgive me," he whispered in a high pitch under his breath.

His torso fell forwards and he had to catch his balance on the boy's shoulders. This reaction only caused Kurt to lick his way up Blaine's shaft where he let the flat of his tongue run over the head of Blaine's member, something that had Blaine doubting if he was going to fall completely down.

Father, forgive me. Is this the Devil?

With a deep breath Kurt wet his lips in pre-come by running his slightly-open mouth over Blaine's head so he safely could slide his lips down around the glistening bulb.

Is this a test? Does the Devil know about such pleasure?

"Oh... oh!" Blaine gasped as Kurt ran his mouth agonizingly slow down around his throbbing dick. His fingers were digging into the boy's shoulders. A panic was running screaming around in the back of his head, a chaos like a twister making him wonder if he was about to throw up or melt to a puddle on the stone floor.

With his tongue broadly and wetly tracing up the underside of Blaine's cock Kurt moved back up, sucked on his head and moved back down. Blaine squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lower lip with a whimper.

"Lord almighty give me a sign..." he prayed.

He knew he should be pushing the boy away, stop him from what he was doing, but flames of romantic campsite bonfires were licking up on the inside of his skin, despite how much there was nothing romantic about the current setting. Instead his hand found way to Kurt's neck, sliding up to let his fingertips mingle in his brown locks.

In a swift motion Kurt had his lips back up and opened his mouth widely. As he looked up at Blaine who was staring down at him, Kurt licked the broad of his tongue from as far down Blaine's shaft as he could before letting that adorable tip of his tongue make his angelic face morph into eroticism without comparison. The tongue-tip Blaine had always seen as innocent and as a sign of Kurt's youthful excitement danced over the slit of his dick, turning white with pre-come.

"Please. I can't -" Blaine begged.

He knew that rationally he should be begging Kurt to stop, beg the Lord to help him out of this mess. Yet, that wasn't the reality. All he could do was beg for his God to forgive him, beg his God to look the other way as his skin tightened over his muscles and bones, and while the sweat started forming as pearls on his forehead. Not very unlike the way he felt Kurt's neck and hair growing hotter under his fingers.

A sensation he vaguely remembered from his teenage years started coiling in his gut. It was hot like the Pacific Ocean, rolling like somersaults in his belly. But it wouldn't stay and continued towards his crotch where the boy had started licking around his erection with his hands gently cupping his testicles, fondling the balls like he had been protecting them.

"Kurt – Kurt!" Blaine spat bewildered out, knowing what was on its way if Kurt didn't stop his ministration immediately.

From one second to the next Kurt seemed to grasp the severity of Blaine's objections and let his lips slide around his head, sucking hard while he squeezed Blaine's sac to hold him back, but just as quickly slipped his mouth off with a pop that sounded like a gunshot in the deserted church, the acoustics doing nothing to help Blaine's bad feeling about what he was doing and where he was doing it.

As Kurt had finally let him go Blaine tumbled a step backwards, away from the boy with the mouth sent from Heaven. He stopped when the back of his knees hit the small bench, startled and panting. All he could do was watch Kurt awkwardly fight to his feet.

"Heavenly Father!" Blaine gasped when his gaze drifted down the boy's frame.

Apparently he had been more lost in pleasure than he knew, because Kurt's gray jeans were sitting around his knees, his bright turquoise boxers along with them. Kurt bent his knees and started shimmying the tight fabric down around his calves before he had his pants to his ankles. He awkwardly toed off his shoes and let his leg-wear follow. He was now stark naked from the waist down, his clothes and shoes a messy pile on the light stone floor under their feet.

It had all happened with a pace that felt like the speed of lightning. Blaine had watched it all with round eyes and mouth slightly ajar. He couldn't move and he wasn't sure he could feel all of his limbs. (God, have You left me?) His eyes were locked on the boy's waist where his cock was hard as rock, bopping against his dusty blue button-down, making a little stain grow bigger from the pre-come smearing over the light cotton. (Is this a test?) To his own shock he found that he was biting his lower lip and a tightening feeling was pulling in his balls.

He was ripped from his fascination of Kurt's lower body when a pair of hands landed on his shoulders and he was lightly, but firmly, pushed so he sat down on the seat behind him. The smooth mahogany was achingly cold on his naked buttocks, making a sharp shot run up his spine as he realized what he could feel was the cold as his cheeks were spread and his hole was bared and sitting directly on the church's furniture.

Before he could stop it Kurt was straddling him. He thighs were strong and his skin soft against Blaine's. In a moment of weakness Blaine let his hands rest on Kurt's naked hips, dwelling in how good the bones felt against his palms, covered in soft skin and warm flesh. His rosary was painful as it was trapped between his hand and the boy's body.

"Kurt – I can't be with you. I have sworn my faith to God. I am married to only Him," Blaine stammered out, but to his horror he found that his thumbs were stroking the hips he was holding tighter than he had ever planned.

"I knew you were gay," Kurt said teasingly and rolled his hips forward.

"Oh sweet Lord," Blaine whined as he felt Kurt's dry erection rub against his own, the cocks trapped between their bodies. As he looked down all he could see in the dark was the sweet pink of their flushed dicks lined up next to each other, his own a strong darker shade than Kurt's, but both glistening with pearly white liquid pooled at the top.

"Father – I can make you feel so good. You make me feel so good. I've been thinking about you for the past two years. All I've wanted was you," Kurt told softly and let his head down so his eyes were staring into Blaine's.

"All I've thought about was how your hands would feel on my skin." He put his hands onto Blaine's and slowly led them to slide from Kurt's hips and behind to his ass, pressing Blaine's palms against the top of his cheeks, cold from the chill temperature filling the church.

"How your lips would feel on mine." He moved his face closer, pressing his mouth onto Blaine's. His lips were wet and Blaine's breath caught in his throat. He couldn't help digging his fingers a little deeper into the untouched skin of Kurt's ass when he realized he was moving his lips with the boy's and surprised himself by welcoming the soft, slick tongue into his mouth.

"How – how good your body would feel against mine," Kurt said lowly, slightly stammering, and pressed his torso closer to Blaine's.

"Son, Kurt – this is God's house," Blaine stuttered, the lump in his throat feeling like God's rage filling him up.

"I don't think he's home. Just...let loose. You're always so sweet and kind and beautiful. Let yourself over. If you didn't have any interest in me you wouldn't kiss me like that," Kurt cooed. For some reason the tone of his voice had a warmth of protection floating through Blaine's body. His words felt like comfort and safety, and it had Blaine curling his toes in his loafers, his thumbs caressing over Kurt's bared skin.

Have You lost Your belief in my faith, or am I the one who have lost my mind?

What he did he could not have foreseen or prepared himself for. Blaine raised his head a little, his neck straining as he pressed his mouth back to Kurt's. His hands were grabbing Kurt's ass with force, and a burning filled his heart and stomach with desire he had never known.

Blaine could feel the vibrations through his mouth and down his throat as Kurt moaned into the kiss. Blaine responded with a slight whimper, only increased by the way he could feel their pre-come soaking through his black shirt.

"I've... thought of you... inside me," Kurt groaned into the kiss, their wet lips and tongues making an obscene slippery noise sounding loudly in the small space of the confessional.

The kiss grew more and more heated with every second that passed. Kurt kept rolling his hips in needy waves towards Blaine, their erections sliding against each other, their shirts tainted and Blaine's abdomens tensed with need.

With desperation over his face and in his entire body Kurt retreated from the kiss to rest his forehead against Blaine's. Before Blaine could act Kurt had his one hand rounded around Blaine's cock. He let it slowly go up, pre-come smearing over his fingers, before he let his fingers up to lick two of them into his mouth.

In complete awe, Blaine watched as Kurt made his tongue slide around the digits in the most exhibitionistic way he had ever seen in his life. With quivering lower lip and wonder Blaine felt his heart race from the sight before him. He could feel Kurt's knuckles against his lips as he worked his fingers around in his mouth.

What followed was even more of a surprise. Blaine was right about to stammer out the question of what he was doing when Kurt slipped his fingers out between his swollen lips. He smiled devilish and let his hand around to his back.

The second Blaine felt Kurt's wet fingers against his hand, still grabbing Kurt's ass, he gasped loudly. Suddenly he had a feeling of what Kurt was doing.

Kurt's fingers were down by his crack, slipping up and down before he started pressing a finger against his hole. With a tender moan he started pushing in, causing all of Kurt's muscles to tense. He bit down on his lower lip and squeezed his eyes shot as Blaine felt him push his finger deeper into his body.

As Blaine watched Kurt's face tense he could feel the way his body was working, hear the gasps as Kurt worked himself open – one finger slipping in and out of his hole followed by moving around in his hole to lax the muscle.

When Kurt opened his eyes Blaine could see his pupils so big that they almost overshadowed his usually so beautiful and intense eye color. His entire face was filled with lust and need, and the bubbles in Blaine's body felt like champagne.

"Mr. Hummel -" Blaine breathed out, his entire crotch on fire and his throat tied up from what he was watching.

"Kiss me. Please..." Kurt moaned as his forehead fell against Blaine's, his lips quivering against Blaine's and his heavy breath painting his lips.

With that it was like demons – or maybe it were angels – took over Blaine's entire being. He grabbed Kurt's ass harder than he knew he was capable of and lunged his face against Kurt's. He sucked Kurt's mouth against his own and had his nails digging into Kurt's crack, feeling Kurt's fingers scraping against his own with every movement he did.

Suddenly Blaine had such a good handful of Kurt's ass that he could actually feel the hole where Kurt was moving his fingers, now two of them, in unison. His brain was clouded and the control he usually upheld over himself was completely abandoned – before he could stop himself he was pressing his own index finger between Kurt's fingers, and he felt himself slide into Kurt's ass, the rosary slippery with sweat as the black pearls rolled over Kurt's skin with every movement of their hands.

From the surprise Kurt's face bumped closer to Blaine's, their teeth crashing together but their lips immediately returned to their rhythm.

"Yes, please... more," Kurt whined and wrapped his free arm around Blaine's neck to hold them close.

Blaine had no idea what he was doing, but all sense was gone. He was certain his face was red from the heat that had overtaken them. His hips were grinding upwards, rubbing against Kurt's, and his entire body was shaking from what he was doing.

"God forgive me," he panted with his finger following Kurt's movements.

It was like the slick feeling around his finger transferred a ghost of need to his erection. The fabric of his black shirt was dry and uncomfortable, but Kurt's naked skin was flaming against his own as their dicks were clasped together in motions of need.

"I want you inside me," Kurt grunted and out of nowhere he was licking up the palm of his free hand, spit running down the inside of his hand, and he was closing it around Blaine's cock. He swiped up and down a few times, his thumb forcing pre-come down the sides and messed it around his head before he stilled.

There was nothing else for Blaine to do than still himself, his finger trapped between Kurt's two as they slowly started dragged out of Kurt's tightness. The cold temperature from the church was sharp on his now wet and warm finger, but all Blaine cared about was the way his nerves were electric and tingling right under his skin. It was like he had been drinking too much coffee in too little time.

"Father, I do not hold the power to resist," he chanted to himself over and over again.

Without warning Kurt was still on top of him. One moment he had been raising himself from his place on Blaine's thighs, pressing his crotch – his angry red cock – against Blaine's clothed chest, the next he was stopped in the middle of his motion.

"Shhh... I can stop. Do you want to stop now? Cause I can get dressed and leave," Kurt offered, sweetly and patient with his hand cupping Blaine's face. He was forcing their eyes together, Kurt's still lust blown and weary, but no doubt that he would stop if Blaine asked him to.

"No, no – God forgive me, no. Don't stop, sweet angel..." Blaine declined, a strange panic rolling up his spine, making his brain feel like it was cramping from the thought of being left behind alone to his want and Kurt walking away from him, leaving him alone in the dark box in the big, cold church that had changed drastically over the time he had been trapped under Kurt's body in the confessional.

"Fuck yes, I hoped you would say that," Kurt grinned and crashed his mouth to Blaine's as he continued to rest on his knees on the wooden bench under them.

With his hand back around his back Kurt had a firm grip on Blaine's cock and positioned perfectly. Blaine could feel Kurt's gaping hole against his head, open and waiting just for him. Yet, he couldn't have ever imagined the feeling when Kurt slowly started sinking himself down, letting Blaine slowly slide inside of him.

The feeling was dry and rough, but at the same time it was heated and slick. Kurt's breathing was rapid against his face while Blaine was holding his own breath. It felt like his entire lower body was sunk into a hot tub, bubbling and heat slicking up around him and inside of him. Boiling water floating through his veins, filling his muscles.

The moment Kurt was back to sitting directly on his nude thighs Blaine knew exactly what it meant; he was all the way inside of Kurt, as deep as he could go, the closest he had ever been to another human being. He was sucked into another person's body and he wasn't sure if he should scream or cry.

He didn't get a chance to decide when Kurt kissed him. It felt different from the other times they had kissed. This was deep and felt like Kurt was trying to channel his feelings into the kiss. Blaine felt like he was a completely new man. He slipped his palms over Kurt's smooth thighs, over his hips and down over his sweat-slick buttocks. He allowed his fingers to feel their way around the muscles and gasped when his fingertips almost hit the root of his cock where he was connected with Kurt.

"You must be sent from the Lord," he whispered against Kurt's lips, and his heart skipped a beat when Kurt's eyes lit up with a smile.

"You feel so good. Shit," Kurt moaned when he shakily lifted himself on his knees and lowered back down.

Blaine could feel his dick being dragged out of and back into Kurt's body, his hole feeling much tighter than it had done around his finger. The warmth was overwhelming and Blaine had to bite his lower lip, close to bleeding, when Kurt repeated the action a little faster than before.

His grip on Kurt's ass strengthened, like he subconsciously was afraid Kurt would lose balance and fall. He released his hands and slid them up Kurt's back, under his shirt that was damp from sweat. He pressed his palms against the soft skin right under Kurt's shoulder blades and Kurt smiled back at him before he continued moving up and down on him a little faster than before.

It wasn't long before Kurt had found a steady pace, smooth and fluid movements of up-down-up-down. The heat enveloping Blaine's cock was like an oven of safety, his conscious now only an echo in the back of his head because how could he stop something as fantastic as this act he was in the middle of?

"Oh... oh – fuck. I've waited for this for so long," Kurt groaned and sucked Blaine's lower lip into his mouth.

Kurt's fingers were tangling themselves in the curls at the nape of Blaine's neck, gripping hard at the back of his head for leverage as he bounced himself on his aching dick.

"Dearest Lord give me a sign that you sent him," Blaine panted against Kurt's face, pressing Kurt's chest closer to his own. Their buttons were piercing into Blaine's sternum, hard enough to bruise, he was sure. For some reason he couldn't have the boy close enough.

"Every time I've been in my bed late at night... imagined it was you... not just my... fingers," Kurt heaved out between kisses, Blaine's lips now feeling swollen and soaked from their mixed saliva.

That statement had Blaine's stomach taking a roll. Kurt had been thinking about him when he was in bed, doing things like these to himself. Imagining it to be him. Needed him, thought about him with this kind of pleasure running through his body.

"Sweet boy," Blaine burst out.

He let his one hand up to cup Kurt's cheek and ear, forcing his face down to let their mouths meet and Kurt immediately had his tongue into Blaine's mouth. Kurt's hair was soft under his fingers; like having his fingers in a pile of velvet fabric.

The way Kurt was riding on top him made adrenaline simmer in his blood, and Blaine realized his hips were itching to move, to push back – to meet his movements.

"I never... you're so good, feel so good," Kurt whimpered, but ended in a tender whine as Blaine released control of his hips and let them buck upwards, thrusting his thighs against Kurt's ass so he could feel himself hit much harder inside the boy.

"Oh shit. Father Anderson... yes!" Kurt moaned directly into Blaine's ear, edging him on, fueling the flame that had been lit inside of him.

It was like he had left himself behind. Like he was watching them from the ceiling. Blaine squeezed his eyes hard but rushed them open to keep taking in the sight of Kurt's eyes; he needed to make sure it was the eyes of a boy and not a devil – the eyes of an angel.

Kurt's other arm rushed up to lock around Blaine's neck as Blaine kept thrusting into him. With every thrust upwards Kurt pushed down to meet him, making the sound of their sweaty skin slap noisily through the church along with the orchestra of mixed whimpers and moans.

"Dear God – so good, so warm... Kurt, yes," Blaine heard himself groan against the boy's cheek as his stomach coiled up.

Kurt's hole was squeezing, clenching, his dick. It felt like his body was trying to attach itself to Blaine's completely. Like puzzle pieces slotting together the way they were meant to be.

His eyesight was blurred and drops of sweat were running down his temples. As he had his mouth pressed against Kurt's cheek he could taste the salt from Kurt's sweat as well. His fingertips felt like they were melting into the skin on Kurt's back, his nails sure to leave marks.

"Kurt... oh Jesus Almighty," Blaine whined into the boy's ear, and Kurt responded with a hand almost caressing down the back of his head.

He was surprised when Kurt locked his lips around his earlobe and sucked it into his mouth, playing with the tip of his tongue over the skin. At the same time Kurt stopped bouncing but started rolling his hips instead. Small, rhythmic waves of his pelvis that had him working Blaine's dick inside of him in a whole new way.

Blaine could feel his nipples taut and brushing against the soft fabric of his undershirt, a tight prison at the moment. He heard the whimpers falling from his mouth when it was like a hand was grabbing around the inside of his balls.

It was way too soon, but Blaine knew what was on its way. He didn't want this to end already, but it was about to. Flames the temperature of Hell were slicking up his nerves, making him dizzy. His stomach was doing cartwheels and with a groan of "Heavens dear" fireworks were shooting from his balls, through his shaft and into Kurt's ass, filling him up with come from Blaine's deepest insides.

All muscles in his body were on fire. He was clinging to Kurt as if he had been his last string to life. It was a sensation he hadn't ever known like it when he felt the way his semen was slick inside of Kurt's body, around his softening dick.

"Don't stop. No, no – don't stop," Kurt whimpered against Blaine's neck, his hips still rolling, his ass sliding over Blaine's thighs, making drops of warm come roll down Blaine's inner thigh and down to drip to the church floor.

With a wet kiss sucked to Blaine's neck Kurt moved back to push his forehead against Blaine's, catching his eyes with a devious smile. His pupils were still filled with lust and his motions were shaky with need.

Blaine was slowly feeling his entire body going limp under Kurt's, and the way Kurt's hole was still gripping to his spent cock was starting to go painful. However, he didn't have two seconds to figure out what to do about it when Kurt had his hand on Blaine's, folding their intertwined fingers around his own still-throbbing-hard erection.

Blaine looked down in awe, watching the way Kurt was moving their hands. Fisting, swiping, around his shaft. He could hear and feel Kurt's breathing going unsteady on his lips, feel that Kurt was watching him. Suddenly Kurt's hips started moving rapidly, out of control, as a loud groan escaped his mouth.

"Yes! Father Anderson, yes. God! So fucking – good," Kurt grunted, his face clasping against Blaine's so his their lips were slipping over each other.

It was like a fountain had exploded over Blaine's hand. The warm spurts were covering his black shirt in white, thick stains, glistening in the colored light streaming from the church through the glass mosaics. It wasn't until then he realized that his mouth was hanging open, an undetectable sound caught in his throat.

Kurt was panting and his hips has stilled completely. He wasn't tensed anymore, but went limp in Blaine's arms. Their hands were still closed around Kurt's softening cock, but slowly Kurt released their fingers and let his arm back up to Blaine's neck so he could press their lips together for a lazy kiss. He kissed over Blaine's cheek and ear to nuzzle his face against his neck while he was steadying his breath.

Blaine's hands were on the lower of Kurt's back, only now it all came crashing down over him – what had he just done?

His brain curled up in cramps and his heart felt like it was shattering. Not only had he been unfaithful to his vow to his God; he had disrespected His house, with a teenage-boy, and shamed His name in the process. Blaine felt like he was about to throw up.

After a moment of nothing but his racing heartbeat and the sound of his pulse aching in his ears Blaine heard Kurt hummed slightly as if from under water despite the fact that he was closer to Blaine than anyone had ever been. Kurt kissed slightly over Blaine's neck, but when he noticed the small shaking in Blaine's body he stopped and moved back to look at him.

The tears were burning on Blaine's cheeks, streaming down his face. With the new space Blaine let his hands rush to cover himself, his face, from the boy's watching eyes. He sobbed heartedly, couldn't stop it as it pressed itself out him. He still had his rosary in a tight grip, the feeling of the pearls pressed against his face, but it smelled strongly with the proof of what it had just been caught in the middle of.

"Hey, what's this? Why are you crying?" Kurt asked, his voice rasp but to Blaine's surprise his tone was soft.

Unfortunately all Blaine could do was continue his sobbing. Guilt was roaming around him, from his brain through his veins, filling his body with flames and shame.

When there was no coherent response Kurt went from needy and forceful to soft and consoling as he pulled Blaine closer and started stroking down his back and his hair. He hummed soothing sounds in his ear, making the entire situation even more awkward and inappropriate than it already was, because all Blaine could think about was how the evidence of his Sin was still everywhere – from the feeling of Kurt's skin still against his, to the smell of sex and sweat and man taking up the air in the small booth.

What have I just done? Please Lord, give me a sign, guide me through my Sin, Blaine was praying in his head, but it only made him cry even harder.

But no sign came, no guidance was sent. All he felt was emptiness, darkness, no one to help him redeem what he had just shared with this boy.

"No. No. This – you have to leave," he suddenly burst out, voice thick with crying and the aftershocks of his orgasm.

He put his hands to Kurt's chest and started pushing him away. Kurt stared at him with big eyes, confusion and shock making him look like a question-mark as he tumbled back to his feet.

Kurt was off his lap. Now much more visibly naked from the waist and down, his used up dick soft and abused against his thigh. He looked suddenly self-aware and rushed to crouch so he could pick up his underwear and pants, pulling it all on as Blaine hurried to drag his own clothes back in place. He felt like the white collar was slowly choking him as he herded Kurt out of the confessional and back to the church room.

"What is going on? What is -" Kurt started asking, but stopped when he saw the look on Blaine's face.

"How could this happen? This is God's house! We just disgraced it! You walk in here and tempt me with your divine beauty – make me touch you and feel you. Lead me away from my path!" Blaine screamed, his voice shaking and echoing off the walls and down from the high ceiling over their heads.

Kurt's eyes started brimming with tears, fat and juicy as they fell down his face the way Blaine's own face was wet and burning. He took a step backwards, away from where Blaine was a chaotic mess.

"You just – with your lack of faith! How could I be so stupid? I have let down the vow I have given my Father. And for a simple boy who had nothing but lust in his heart! You could have gone to anyone, but you chose me. Was this nothing but a game to you, child?" Blaine screamed at Kurt as he rushed in front of him and grabbed his wrist.

Kurt looked frightened as he stared into Blaine's eyes. Eyes that were itching and paining with the salt and water overflowing. His lower lip was trembling and he knew that he should release the boy, let him go. He was, after all, nothing but a boy without faith, acting on behalf of his body's needs.

"I have dishonored my church – and for someone who just wanted the closeness of the first fool he could find," Blaine cried, his voice cracking in the same way his knees felt like they would disobey him any second now.

"I – it wasn't like that," Kurt cried, his voice heavy and broken.

"I... I'm in love with you. It wasn't just – for anybody. I wanted you. Only you," Kurt whined, his cheeks ablaze and his eyes swollen.

"I am married to God, Mr. Hummel! How can I – I have betrayed my promises to Heaven by falling in love with a boy," Blaine choked out, and then it occurred to him that it was true.

He released Kurt's wrist and stumbled back. He fell to sit on the bench behind him and crossed his heart before he hid his face in his hands.

He was in love with a boy – a human. But he was married to God, had sworn his eternal duty to work as the Lord's servant and never involve in romantic or sexual relations with anyone. Until now his love for his church had been enough, it was all he ever needed.

The crying continued. It turned into hyperventilating. All he had ever worked for had been thrown away, for a few moments of pleasure. He was doomed to the deepest pits of Hell, and a life in solitude with nothing to do but shame himself for his Sin.

"Shhhh... It's – I know that you believe in God. But I don't. And even if there is a god, isn't he supposed to love you unconditionally?" Kurt peeped out in an insecure voice.

He had sat down on the bench next to Blaine, keeping his distance. Blaine dared to shoot him a look and found that his tears had stopped. He was looking concerned but afraid, still.

"I do. Love you. Unconditionally," Kurt whispered, so low it was like he wasn't sure he wanted Blaine to hear, but the acoustics in the church made it impossible to hide any sound in the room.

"Did you really – did you mean that? Are you..." Kurt asked, but trailed off. The words were clearly hanging on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't get them out.

"My sweet boy, how can you still be so innocent after what we just did?" Blaine wondered out loud, and he saw as a rosy color flooded Kurt's pale cheeks and made his dimple stand out at the corners of his mouth.

"I have to go write my resignation. I can't..."

"No. No – you can't. Don't because of me. I don't know what I was thinking. You were there and suddenly I couldn't stop myself and... But don't. You love your job and God and your faith and... don't let me take that away from you," Kurt blabbered out, faster than Blaine had ever heard anyone speak before.

"Mr. Hummel, I have to. I can't stay in the church after how I just disrespected everything I have ever honored," Blaine said, hopelessness filling his heart and clogging his throat.

A hand was closing around his as a warm thigh was clad against his. He looked up and found Kurt's face close to his own, their noses almost colliding, but Kurt's eyes had gone from scared to worried.

"I – I meant what I said. I've been in love with you since you came here. All I have wanted was to – kiss you, and hold your hand. Feel you hold me, and... maybe do a little of what we just did. I've seen you look at me in that way, and I knew you wanted it too. I just didn't think you knew it yourself. But..."

Kurt was stopped in his tale as Blaine surprised both of them by clasping his lips onto Kurt's. His own eyes were as wide as Kurt's when it happened, but he didn't let it stop him. His heart was racing and his pulse was pounding loudly in his ears.

But if he had nothing left, how could he turn away the one good thing in front of him?

"I don't deserve this anymore," he grunted and ripped off his white collar, clutching it tightly with the rosary.

"You deserve everything good, Father Anderson," Kurt said, brushing his thumb over the back of Blaine's hand.

"I think we're a little past that. Call me Blaine," he groaned and tried to force a smile but it only felt like tragic grimace, so he stopped but accepted the kiss Kurt placed on his mouth.

"Blaine," Kurt smiled against his lips, his eyes roaming with stars.

"Kurt – I should be thinking you were sent from the Devil, but how can I when you're so angelic?"