This half is for my beloved LaVitaacolori on DeviantArt/Y-Gallery! For she is my SasuSeme and I am her Narub*tch! XD

~WARNING: This story has SasuNaru in it, meaning Yaoi and Naruto as Uke/bottom with Sasuke as Seme/top. Also, this story is religiously themed, questioning the acts of God. If you do not like Yaoi, the pairing, the characters roles, or are religiously sensitive, then please do not read nor leave any rude comments. Thank you~


Sin

I don't see anything else going for me right now. I seem to hit an all-time low, and it looks like nothing would be able to change that.

I believe everybody goes through their own personal hell, because torture can vary from person to person. Because with some people, there's always a chance to say "but things can get worse." And for others, they can really say "things can't get any worse than this."

Because sometimes death would be better than living.

And I tried. I tried to die, but God wouldn't let me. I obviously haven't suffered enough, because lying on the bathroom floor covered in my own blood, I was still able to stand up and walk out the door for school. I did try to commit suicide. And when I failed, I was horribly reminded by the people around me.

I couldn't even sit through my whole first class because the teacher demanded me to go to the infirmary. But that look in his eye was more annoyed about disturbing his class than the fact that I could have possibly lost my life or that there was something seriously wrong with me. And even when the nurse looked at me, she gave me a sneer and commented about me being stupid on trying to get rid of my life. I don't buy it, because I think she was more upset about the fact that I didn't succeed. She never cared about me before. Why start now?

But it didn't end there. Because my foster parents were immediately informed and promised to give me a beating to wish I really did die. And what's worse is that they missed their opportunity to get rid of me once and for all and claim it as suicide.

They really didn't know. No one did.

They didn't like me. So why do they even bother to keep me around? They said something about how God didn't want me wasting the gift of life, but that's total bullshit. Why would I go through hell my entire life and still think that God is trying to "save" my soul? Is that why they keep me around? Because it was God's wish? Or was it because of the promise they made with my parents before the accident? I'm sure it was the latter. Otherwise they would pull some crap about giving me back to that so-called God who loves all of his children. But he never looked out for me. He abandoned me. And I am all alone.

This is my hell.

My parents were taken away when I was very young. My foster parents threw me into the worst living environment, or the cheapest apartment, whichever you want to call it, and left me with the minimum of supplies and see how I would hold out. They didn't even want me under the same roof as them. I am forced to eat ramen since it is the cheapest thing I can find to last. I never had a set of brand-new clothes unless you count school uniforms. And I had to grow a tolerance for the noises outside my window for me to sleep at night. Also to ignore the chance someone would break in.

But it wasn't the worst part. The worst was when I tried to hide it.

Ramen isn't my favorite food. I only say that to not make it look like a problem every time I eat it. I force a terrible smile on my face to hide the pain of getting rejected boy other people. I stay at school the longest I can, whether to do sports or studying. Either way, I don't have to go home at night. I do everything to hide the pain I am feeling. Whether it is to hide the terrible acts my foster parents do to me, to try and defend them from the terrible eyes that judge people whenever they see someone other than themselves. I don't know. Or maybe it is to not give those other people who wait for me to fall the satisfaction of watching me suffer. I try to show I am a stronger person than they think I am and hope they will let me be.

I was wasting away from the inside out. This was my personal hell.

Not that it matters, but I wonder if I was treated this way when people knew I was gay or if I found out I was much after people tortured me.

Unlike other people in the world, I am not picky with the things I get. That also goes for love. If I could find one person who would want me in any sort of form, then I wouldn't pass up the opportunity. I've given my body to so many people; some women, but mostly men. And I've been caught and punished plenty of times for it. Lust is one of the seven deadly sins. I know this. But I was already so far gone. Why should I care what happens from this point on? I was pretty sure I was going to be overcome by sin for the rest of my life.

"Are you alone?"

I looked up from my seat in the diner and saw what I thought was not even possible. He was the most beautiful person I had ever seen, man or woman. His face seemed to be absolutely perfect mixed in with the light complexion of his skin. And his eyes, they were endless pools of darkness. God knows how lost I could get staring into those orbs. And his beautiful hair seemed to match his eyes; short and spiked in the back, but the front framed his perfect face…perfectly. And those ebony locks gave a tint of blue when shone in the right angle of light, reminding me of the endless night sky.

Something was conflicting. Within this man and within myself.

His skin was so perfectly white, it was mesmerizing. But his hair and eyes were so dark and mysterious, I couldn't help but be drawn in. It was like he was taunting me with pleasure, provoking me to get closer to him with the sweet promise of despair when it was all over.

He was sin.

Pure sin.

And I knew it. But I was losing the battle of resistance. Like a good little church-going child who was suddenly in front of the candy their mother refused to buy for them. They know it's wrong, but they want that sugary treat so bad. They were told it was wrong, but their mouth was dripping from the cravings for a sweet fix.

This was just how I was when I saw that man of sin.

Even if I have forsaken God, I still find myself praying to Him for some kind of relief. I wish and beg to find something to stop the endless torture. When death didn't seem to be the answer, I prayed for anything else to come by.

And there he was, right in front of me.

God wanted me to suffer. I know this because He sent this man.

Homosexuality…was that a sin? Lust was. Worship of a false idol was. But it wasn't clear in the bible that falling for someone of the same gender was something bad…at least not told through Jesus of Nazareth's lips. So was it still bad that I was drawn in? Was it wrong to follow him out like a lost puppy to a place I wasn't familiar with? To let his slim fingers make their way to my pants and slowly undo the only thing that served as a barrier from committing a moral crime and keeping what little purity I had left?

It must have been a sin.

Because I never felt so good.

I was struggling to keep my eyes set on one thing: either those endless dark pools or my manhood disappearing into that sinful mouth. That wicked tongue had already done me in before, convincing me to follow him back to his place and let him do as he pleased with me. But now, I never knew how bad it truly was. I couldn't tell him what I was feeling, this overwhelming wave of pleasure coursing through my body as I thrust in and out of his mouth. All that could come out of my mouth were moans from absolute bliss, or at least what I thought it was.

He had to be sin. My body was moving in ways I didn't know was possible, but all under his control. His desire. His will. He made me do these things and I only did them out of impulse. No work of God could do something like this.

And I only felt pain for a brief moment when he entered, but all that quickly washed away when he began to move. And I honestly didn't know what to do with my hands or legs. I didn't even know what to say. But they found their way to his body. My legs wrapped around his waist and my hands grabbed his hair and shoulders. And I found myself speaking in some language I didn't understand. It must have been tongues.

I'm sure, even in the middle of it, I could still pull away. I may have still had a choice in the entire matter. But suddenly, something he did got me and there was no way I could back out now. Just like the will of God. Just like the work of Satan. Electricity ran through my spine so all I could do was hold onto him and pray that whatever was happening he wouldn't ever stop.

I was shouting for God. It was feeling so good; I couldn't help but praise Him. And then I felt like I was praising the wrong person. So those shouts changed to his name. And it was either the right or wrong thing to do, because his movements became harsher and the pleasure was much greater. And somewhere in the middle of it, where things slowed down a bit, I dared to look up and look into the face of the person I was worshiping.

Was he really sin?

His eyes were the darkest of any I have ever seen. Once I looked in them, I never knew a way out by myself. He tempted me into this. The sin of lust. The sin of homosexuality. The sin of worshiping a false idol. From what he was doing, there didn't look like he was doing any good.

But I thought I was saved. For the first time in my entire life. Someone actually sought me out, not the other way around. He told me things that made me feel wanted. He was doing things to me that actually made think I was loved. Cared for. I actually, for the first time in the longest time, was thankful that I was living. To experience this feeling that actually existed in this world.

He was someone saving me from my despair. But he was someone bringing me further into the darkness. His skin. His eyes. How could someone so contradicting like this even exist in this world?

There was only one type of creature I could think of when I was withering under him. I reached up to him, someone of worship I could actually touch, and wrapped my arms around his neck and whispered what he was in his ear.

"Angel of Death."

He liked his new name. Or he hated it. He pushed so hard into me, my spine hurt and my entrance was sure to be bleeding. But when he did that, I felt so much ecstasy, I swear I touched heaven.

He was an angel to me. He was also the one to bring me to eternal damnation. I didn't care. He was the one who would bring me out of the torture I endured on Earth. That was all I knew when I lost consciousness.

After feeling that type of bliss, I thought I died. And I thought the light assured my death when I opened my eyes. It just seemed so much brighter than what I was used to. St. Peter was probably waiting for me to send me right to Hell. But when I could focus on my surroundings, I knew I was still on Earth. And I was sure since I was still here, I would be alone again.

But the pale arm wrapped around my torso said otherwise. He was still with me. Unlike anyone else in my entire life, he was still there when I opened my eyes. And he was still connected to me, even if he wasn't still inside, because he stirred and opened his eyes to look into my own.

"Naruto."

I had never heard anyone call my name with that tone. And I couldn't help but cry. This man was bringing me closer to doom, all the same time saving me from my own self-destruction. He was trapping me. He was letting me free. I just didn't know what to do.

I felt him kiss my tears away with that same mouth speaking unholy things in my ear the night before. And wrap those strong arms to hold me tenderly when earlier, he forced my body into the positions he wanted me to be in.

Whether he was really my savior or my enemy, I didn't know. But all I knew was that I would abandon everything else in my life to stay with this man.

"Sa-Sasuke…"

This was pure sin.


Please do not hate me for this. Doing something so religiously sensitive is a first for me. I just hope you guys are okay with all this.