Frank found it rather funny, really. His adoptive parents forcing him to church every Sunday to "cleanse" him of his homosexuality. They didn't know that they were fueling the fire once a week.

The young priest in training, Father Way, had caught Frank's eye. The way that the white band around his neck would bob with his Adam's apple as he spoke, and the way that his black jeans fit so well on his ass. Every Sunday he'd go to a restroom stall after a service of imagining a night with Father Way while his adoptive parents socialized with the other believers.

He loved to imagine their reaction if they were to ever find out that he spent services wishing Father Way were on his knees and in front of Frank. They'd surely tell him he would go to the hell that he didn't believe in.

Why, if it weren't for Father Way and his stupid tight jeans, Frank would probably skip church altogether.

It's a good thing he didn't, though. Because, in a strange turn of events that Frank would spend an alarming amount of time recalling, something good came from a Sunday.

Frank's POV

I slipped away from the crowd of chatting people, head hung low to avoid catching my adoptive parents' eye.

"Frank Richardson, right?" a familiar voice caught my attention once I was in the hallway leading to the restroom.

I looked up and say Father Way smiling at me.

"Iero actually, the Richardsons are my adoptive parents," I almost felt as though he knew what I had been daydreaming about during his entire service'. Guilty mind, I suppose. "Hey Father."

"You can call me Gerard," he smiled as he looked me over. "How old are you? I recall Angela and Thomas saying, but I can't quite remember the number."

My eyes flashed quickly to the bathroom door and back to Gerard. "Eighteen as of Halloween."

"You share a birthday with the Devil?" he raised an eyebrow.

Why are the hot ones always stupid?

"Dude, you can laugh. It's a joke," Gerard let out a small chuckle. "Can I ask you something?"

I forced a laugh to attempt to clear the awkward air and nodded.

"Do you believe any of the shit we preach about? I mean, I've noticed that you're always zoning out during service."

I was kind of in shock from Gerard literally saying, "shit we preach about," but I still managed to shake my head.

"I don't believe a word of it. None of it makes any shred of sense, and I think I'd hate it if it were real. Some shitty things happen in that book, things that you wouldn't think a forgiving and merciful God would do," I explained, waiting for Gerard to jump in to and tell me exactly why I was wrong.

"If I'm being completely honest with you, I think it's all bullshit," Gerard's words surprised me. "I only agreed to take this job to get my dad off my back. I'm 22 and the man still chastises me for liking guys, for Christ's sake."

My eyes find their way back to the bathroom as I attempt to conceal the growing issue in my jeans. Finding out that Gerard liked guys is definitely going to intensify the things I imagine.

"Oh, am I keeping you?" Gerard's cheeks flush as he catches sight of the door I keep looking at. "Hey, I'll see you next Sunday. And, uh, can everything we said be kept between us?"

I smile and nod, making my way to the bathroom where I'll lock myself in a stall and do things that should never be done in a "house of the Lord."

I check that all the stalls are empty before picking the one furthest from the door. I slide the latch closed and lean against the door, sighing as I unzip my jeans and pull them to my knees.

I wrap my hands around my half-hard dick and shutter at the touch, slowly dragging my hand from the base to the tip.

A few shaky sighs and moans escape my lips, each one getting louder than the previous.

"Frank?" a voice rings out as the person knocks on the stall door.

"Shit!" I half-yell and jump to the opposite side of the wall. I look at the gap under the door and see Gerard's pair of nice Converse- they must be specifically for church, those damn things are impossible to keep clean.

"I, uh, I can explain," I try, but my voice comes out as more of a question.

"Frank, can I come in there with you?"

What the hell? This entire thing is starting to sound like something you'd read in a fanfiction on Wattpad.

I pull my jeans back up and open the stall, confusion written clearly on my face.

"Can I, uh, can I help?" Gerard's gaze is on the floor and his cheeks are pink.

Definitely a fanfiction.

"You mean, like, you do it for me?"

"I've heard you in here before Frank," he raised his gaze to look me in the eyes. "I've heard you moan my name as you cum."

Fuck.

I nodded, pulling my jeans and boxers down again.

Gerard looked down at my dick, which was now fully hard, and got down on his knees.

He wrapped his hands around my hips and slowly pressed his lips against the tip.

"F-fuck," I sigh as I lean my head back.

Gerard smirks and opens his mouth, moving it so it wraps around my dick. He licks a strip from the base to the tip, swirling his tongue over the slit.

"G-Gerard," I moan loudly, moving my hands to latch onto his hair.

He hallows his cheeks and puts one of his hands on the exposed part, moving it in time with the bobbing of his head. He hums around me, making my knees weaker.

Shaky moans slip out as I thrust my hips into his mouth.

Gerard's tongue continues to swirl, spreading my pre-cum over my dick.

"O-oh my God, Gerard," I close my eyes and thrust faster, feeling my tip hit the back of his throat.

Before I'm ready, a warm knot forms in my stomach. I cum into Gerard's mouth as I yell curses, my knees going even weaker.

Gerard swirls his tongue one more time, pulling off of me with a "pop."

Cum dribbles down Gerard's chin as he smiles up at me.

"Shit," I say breathily, sliding down to a sitting position as I pull my jeans and boxers back up.

"God, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do that for," Gerard stood up, wiping off his chin. "I've jacked off thinking about being on my knees for you."

It was like a wet dream, Gerard talking like that.

"I'll see you at next Sunday service, Frank," Gerard smirked as he unlocked the stall and stepped out, leaving me to compose myself before going out and facing my adoptive family.