,i>This story is full of blasphemy, sodomy, lust, and all the good stuff.
Leave a comment to let me know your thoughts!
-
Every time that I pushed Luke deeper, the next span of days would be spent pouring over his Bible, trying to repent for the great sins that he had committed.
So it was little surprise that in the days after I brought Luke to Pixie, he had hardly left his room, and I only saw him for classes and when he went to get food.
It was damn near enough to hurt a man's feelings.
The past couple of weeks, after our escapades, I would finally get reprieve from his incessant religious babbling. He would hole himself up until he was sure that Jesus had personally stripped away every shred of homosexuality from his soul.
I don't know if I would trust a dude who regularly hung out with 12 single guys for that job, but whatever.
However, I was more than a little peeved when church came up a few days later and I got nothing more than a text from Luke. That wimp refused to talk to me even though he was in the next goddamn room.
Leaving in 10.
That was all he had to say? I wasn't expecting a fucking poem, but three words over the span of three days felt like an insult.
He had invaded my room before, so who was to say that I couldn't do the same to him?
Already wearing a nice sweater with some khakis, I marched over to his door and threw it open.
Huh.
For everything I'd expected, this wasn't it.
The decor of his room wasn't confusing in the slightest. He had two big posters up for shitty Christian bands that had tried to get me to listen to multiple times, and he had a handful of inspirational Bible quotes written on sticky notes and put around his walls.
What I hadn't imagined was the smell.
There was a distinct scent of room spray, and he was even a burning a candle when I came in, but there was a strong lingering smell of semen. I looked over to his wire wastebasket, and I saw that it was full to the brim with balled-up, cummy tissues.
Luke was only half dressed, wearing jeans and socks but no shirt. He jumped as I entered, his cheeks turning red.
We locked eyes, and both of us knew that I knew.
"Um," He said, "I'm almost ready."
I just nodded and closed the door as I went back to the living room.
I thought that Luke had been turning to Jesus this whole time, but he hadn't locked himself away to pray. He had been furiously masturbating since Thursday night, most likely cumming again and again at the thought of having a stranger's cock down his throat.
And he hadn't told me.
Sitting down on the couch, I started to think of the best ways to punish him.
------------------
As Luke and I walked into the church, headed straight for the pew we sat in last time.
I didn't join him at first. Instead, I slipped off to go have a little chat with Pastor Maynard.
After a brief and productive conversation with the good preacher, I slipped into the bench next to Luke with a satisfied look on my face.
Luke looked at me sideways. "Where did you go?" He whispered.
"You'll find out," I said.
The curly-haired dumbass with the acoustic guitar started singing, and Luke didn't have time to interrogate me further. He would never want to interrupt a service.
The pastor went through the regular horse and pony show, bringing up visiting missionaries and praying over them and inviting parishioners to do the readings.
Say what you will about Christians, but do they know the power of interactive learning.
Even still, I had to fight to keep focus.
Finally, the service began to come to a close, and Pastor Maynard was announcing all of the "good works" the church had been doing in the community.
"We love seeing the next generation taking interest in spreading Christ's love," Pastor Maynard said. "That's why it warms my heart this morning to hear that Luke and his young friend are going to be setting up our booth on campus this afternoon"
The crowd clapped, and Luke whipped his head around to glare at me.
I didn't say a word. I just gave my best good-Christian-boy smile to the pastor.
"These young men have carved out time to spread the good word unprompted today," Pastor Maynard said. "They'll be setting up our table along with some literature on the sidewalks between the buildings that these lost students are learning in."
The crowd clapped again. Clearly our gumption for God was admirable.
Luke glared even harder.
That's how, only an hour later, we found ourselves set up outside of the library, sitting behind a plastic folding table with a great big table cloth and swathes of pamphlets laid down in front of us.
I couldn't help flipping through some of the pocket-sized packets they gave to us to hand out.
The manipulative and predatory language they used was obviously meant to target the vulnerable, offering Jesus as a cure all for everything from shingles to clinical depression.
I still thought it was one big spiritual sugar pill, but to each their own.
Luke was burning a hole in the side of my head with his stare.
"Jesus," I said, "will you calm down?"
"First of all," Luke said, angry, "don't take the good Lord's name in vain."
I rolled my eyes. That bit was getting old.
"Second," he said, "I don't know what you're planning to do to me, but don't even think about it."
"Do to you?" I asked. "I just wanted to
talk
to you for God's sake."
"For goodness sake," Luke said.
"What?"
"You took God's name in vain again," he said. "You meant for goodness sake."
"For fuck's sake," I said, leaning back into my chair.
"Even that's better," Luke said.
A gaggle of freshmen walked past us on their way to south campus.
