GOD, PLEASE, FORGIVE ME


Hello there! I've been a really long time without writing or continuing my fanfics, but I've finally decided this was going to change. Now I'm at college, and I have far more time than before to write :) So, first of all, sorry for being so late, I have plans to finish this story with only one more chapter, and then I'll try to continue my other fanfic ("The answer to your fears"), which was and will still be a multi-chapter one. Second, I'm still improving my English, so I decided to try and write this one on my own, without consulting anybody with English knowledge. I wanted to see what I'm capable to do, so sorry if there are some grammar mistakes. Third and I promise I will let you start the fic, I have to warn you this text contains sexual content and religious references that may offend some of yoou, so please, if you're against that kind of references, I don't recommend you to read this one. Thanks a lot for "listening" to me and have an enjoyable time reading "God, please, forgive me"!


CHAPTER 1

"Go in the peace of Christ"

"Thanks be to God" respond the multitude, and, as a thunder, all the people is gone. Only some of the elderly women that were sitting on the first seats wait impatiently to congratulate the priest for his lecture, as they always do. Father John picks up everything that is in the altar and goes to the Sacristy to return everything to its place, but not before he smiles to those annoying, but sweet after all, women, indicating them that he will attend them in a moment. He enters and...

"Amazing work what you've done today, John"

"Father Sherlock! I thought you weren't here today as it was my turn to do the mass. Glad to hear you liked it, but it wasn't anything very especial".

"You're always so modest, Father..."

The blonde priest then looks where the other one is standing and, oh for the glory of God, he's looking straight into him.

"Will you be here all day, Father Sherlock?" asks Father John as he tries to forget the way that grey-eyed priest said that last sentence.

"Oh, yes. I thought you could help me with tomorrow's lecture. I'm not very good writing them, you already know it. And well, I had to come anyway. " Father John's throat is dry. Not again, please.

"Of course, yes, I will... erm... help you".He tries to avoid the gaze.

"Well, I don't bother you anymore, Father. I think you've got an audience to attend." Father Sherlock smiles and adds: "I'll be in my office if you end and continue wanting to help me." Then he walks out the sacristy, leaving Father John, eyes shut, trying to regulate his breathing.

Why did this always happen to him? Anytime the younger priest talked to him, he felt his tongue make his way to his dry lips, his heart go faster and his mind betray him. All because of the tone of his voice. That deep and uncontrollably sexy voice... What has he just thought? Sexy? That shouldn't even be in his vocabulary! He's a priest! He's supposed to have a clean and pure mind with clean and pure thoughts. He's not supposed to be aroused every time Father Sherlock talks to him while looking at him with those sharp eyes that make him think about things that only a sinnerman could think. And when he lows his voice... Then the case is lost.

But all these thoughts have to wait until he has a moment for being alone. Now, Father John has only to concentrate in three things:

Regulate his breathing.

Speaking up with the old ladies as normal as possible.

Avoid the tightness he's feeling in his pants.

He finally exits the room.

"Good morning, ladies."

-OoOoO-

It all started three months ago. The Superior noticed their church was really popular and the audience for the mass was quite large. Even the whole building was too small to have enough sits for everyone! So, the Superior decided to make two mass turns: one in the morning and one in the evening. But it was "so much work for Father John" he thought. Having to prepare two different lectures every day was far too much for only one priest.

"I've decided that, if we're going to continue with this idea, Father, we'll need to search for a companion t help you".

"I don't think it's necessary, Superior. I like making lectures, it doesn't bother me making two instead of one" said Father John.

"Father, you work really hard for this church and your people. You're one of the best priests I've ever known, and I'm realy proud of having you here. But even the best ones need some help. And, from another point of view, it will be a good experience having a church-mate to talk with. You'll be less alone".

"Yes, that's true, Superior"

"Then everything's perfect. We've got a very possible candidate. He has just finished his Seminary time, and he was one of the bests of his promotion. He'll come to see the churchh in two or three days and, don't worry yet, I'll come with him. I know you're quite shy, so I'll make the presentations. I think you'll make a good team".

"I already think so, Superior. Thanks for all. I'll be more than pleased of introducing that novice into

the apasionating work of charity and faith."

"That's the spirit, Father John. I knew you'd be fine with the idea. See you in a couple of days."

Well, everybody needs a change in their lives. It'll be funny having someone to teach and talk to thought Father John.

Days went through and a knockk at his office's door attracted, finally, his attention.

"Very busy at the moment, Father?" said the Superior.

"Oh, no, please! I do always have time for everybody!" replied Father John with a smile "Come in, please."

And, with these words, THEY came into the office. The Superior was acompanied by someone unknown. That stranger was wearing a cassock. This man must be the companion the Superior told me about thought John. While he was thinking, Father John couldn't help but looking at the new man with curious eyes, observeing and memorising (this last thing was something he was doing unconciously) his unusual appereance: his dark long hair was all curled, making it look likee it had no end; his lips were completely closed but, even in that position, the older priest could admire the cupped form they amaziingly had; his skin was even paler than the office's white lights, but not in a sick way, it was more similar to the pureness of one of those Greek sculptures, which whiteness is so elegant you could admire it all your life long; the cheekbones made John hide a smile, because thhey were so up, so... aristocratic, like if that lovely face didn't belong to the period of time they were living; he was so tall but so thin at the same time that Father John thought maybe a weak wind could make him disappear, but at the same time, he looked strong and, mos of all, gracile...

"Father John, this is Father Sherlock Holmes".

And, in that precise moment, a huge pair of grey coloured eyes stopped looking at the floor, to look, instead, right into his, and his soul... and his everything. His whole body was paralyzed under that powerful gaze. He was feeling so many things he shouldn't be feeling... He tried to recover his composture, trying to ignore the half smile the other one was wearing, giving him a light touch of naught and appeal.

"Nice t-to meet you, Father". John showed his hand, offering it to the other one while trying to avoid the eye contact with him. But when that skinny hand held the blonde's, tightly and without shaking, things only got worse. The soft touch of his skin with his own sent shivers down his spine, making his heart beat faster than never.

"Nice to meet you too, Father Watson" said low the taller man, making John's emotions go even further.

"O-oh, no, please, call me Father John".

"I will" said Father Sherlock with another of those smiles.

"Well, this is a good start, I think." The words of the Superior made John open more his eyes and be aware that there was someone else in the room, so he inmediately broke the hand contact (which had lasted more than a common shake) and tried to behave properly, making an effort looking at the Superior instead of Sherlock. "Well, now that you have seen each other and, at least, you know your names, we can talk about how this is going to work. You can know more about each other later." Father John's throat went dry. "One of you two will do the morning mass turn and will be the one who opens the church and makes the ordinary stuff to have it ready for everyone. He must be here at five o'clock in the morning and he'll end the turn at one o'clock. Or, better said, at lunch time, when the other one comes. The other one will make the second mass turn and will finish his journey at night, after closing every room and the chapel after cleaning any part that requires it. You both can talk about the turns the first day Father Sherlock starts here. Clear?"

"Yes, Superior. When is going to be that day?" asked the black haired priest.

"In two days, if there's no inconvenient for Father John".

Oh, that powerful grey look was again on him...

"Of course. There's no inconvenient."

"Well, then we're over here. You can talk about this new lectures and coordinate yourselves next day. Thanks for your attention, Father."

"Yes, thank you, Father John." They shook hands once again. "It's been a pleasure" continued

Father Sherlock, lowering his voice and increasing the pressure in his hand, before breaking the contact and walk to the door.

"You're both very welcome" tried to say in the most calm tone, pretending everything was fine.

"Laters!"

Those were the last words the taller priest adressed to him before leaving the office with a wink adressed only to the open-mouthed blonde priest. This was, finally, the new companion he was going to have. This was going to be his behaviour during every day with him, then. No, he couldn't allow that. He was John Hamish Watson, a priest with his ideas clear and able to control himself completely. Or that's what he thought.

-OoOoO-

Two days later, Father John had almost completely forgotten about the unusuaal meeting and the fact that that was the day his life would, probably, change. He was sure that what happened two days ago was just "a moment of weakness that would never ever happen again". Two knocks.

"Come in" said unconciously, while continued writing his lecture.

"Morning, Father John".

Here he was. The tall man with intense look. Father Sherlock. Sherlock.

"Good morning, Father. Please, come in and take a sit."

With his agile movements, he went directly to the chair opposite the Father's.

"Well..." said John nervously "Shall we start?"

"Yes, sure. I'm excited about this new experience. I can't wait." said Sherlock with a wonderful smirk in his face, eyes bright. He's so beautiful when he smiles thought John, smirking too but blaming himself for thinking in such a thing.

"Well, then. We can talk about the turns first, and then I can explain you how everything works in this church. So, with that, you'll be able to start tomorrow with your first lecture."

The dark haired priest looked down, and changed his face suddenly. Still pretty continued thinking John.

"What's wrong, Father Sherlock?"

"Nothing. There's nothing." tried to lie the other one, hiding his facial expression.

"Father... If we are going to be companions we shouldn't lie to each other" Father John made the distance between them shorther then. "Trust me" said to Sherlock, looking at him deeply.

"Father... I'm a completely... fool for... for lectures".

He looked so scared and embarrased... The only thing Father John wantd was to hug him to make that frighten disappear from that pretty face.

"Father, I'm pretty sure you're not as bad as you think and want me to believe. We are companions now, aren't we?" the priest with the pale skin nodded. "Well, then I'll help you with the lectures. I can review them and give you some advices." smiled the blonde priest.

"But John, I don't want to be any worry-"

"You're not a worry! You're here to learn and I'm here to teach you and help you! Don't say that again, Father. I'll be helping you with the lectures and there's no more to discuss about this, right?" ended Father John, smiling and noticing He has called me John. Why haven't I corrected him? It sounded... nice. With this short distance between them, Sherlock looked up, locking his eyes with the blue ones and whispering "Thank you, Doctor".

Doctor. He had called him Doctor. John couldn't believe the thing he had just heard. How could he possibly know...?

"You were in Afghanistan, weren't you? Your medicine studies were very well recognised there in the army, and you were the one who gave faith to all the soldier as army priest too. What a wonderful task, Doctor." said, whispering with an even deeper voice, looking at the surprised face of the doctor.

"How could you. Possibly. Know about that? The Superior told you"

"Nobody told me" the taller priest got up, slowly, walking around the blond priest and situating himself behind John, putting his face much closer to the Father's. His lips nearly brushing the other's ear, and sending him hot shivers through the Doctor's spine and, then, directly, to his groin. This wasn't a good thing...

"I observed you. Your whole body talked about everything the first time we met. I was quite amused because of your reactions and your useless tries to hide all of them." a small chuck escaped his cupped mouth. "Do you want to know how I got to the conclusion?" said, rubbing, finally, his nose against Father John's ear and neck, making him close his eyes and mute the moan which raised in the back of his throat. Why am I not doing anything to stop this? This is forbidden. My votes... I shouldn't, I MUSTN'T be attracted to this man I barely know...

"I'll take it as a yes" continues murmuring and rubbing Father Sherlock "First of all: your skin. You're not as pale as a normal English man. Your skin is quite darker than an average one, but only the one in your face and hands until your wrists, thing that means you weren't a long time in a sunny place for pleasure. No... You were wearing a uniform, and why? Because, obviously, you were working. Second thing: yor shoulder. You're always touching it with a painful expression in your face. You probably got shot there, and that was, maybe, one of the main reasons which took you back to civil life. That shot was the thing that made you take the final decision: leave the mission at war and trying to forget about the real nightmares you lived there. Third fact: your body expression. Your standing stays military; all straight, with the head a little bit looking up. Your hands are strong when you shook another's and you stay firm in whichever situation, even in those ones when you lose control. Do you know what I am refering to, Doctor Watson?" paused Sherlock, taking a deep breath before continuing. John's eyes were wide open and his mind was working at maximum level, trying to accaparate all the information he'd been given, checking if it was true, and trying to understand how this absolutely wonderful man could know all of this. "Shall I continue?" Silence "Another fact was the obvious way everything was set in your office. So tidy and clean, so much for someone who is supposed to be working in here for quite a long time. You, then, accepted this job three or four months ago. The state of your cassock confirmed my theory: the black was too powerful, the colours were still bright when something is new, but even being the cleanest person in the world you couldn't keep those clothes like that. So you're still relatively new in this place. Finally I thought which places were now in conflict and had English cooperation, so it was Afghanistan or Irak. I decided to say Afghanistan, it was just a really good shot in the dark." Silence again. Father John was still open mouthed, and he felt the younger priest was still close to him, looking at him curiously "An army priest doctor... Fascinating."

"That was... amazing. Completely extraordinary. How can you notice all of that with no one telling you a single thing? Observing?"

"Not just observing. Deducing." rectified the taller man while burying his nose into Father John's neck, making him feel his hot breath against his skin, making him groan and surprising himself with the nooise. "And how... You must have a past. I mean, you have learnt that from somewhere..."

"Not really"

"Impossible" said the blonde priest, trying to find the other one's face.

"You're far from the truth. It's just an ability I was born with. A quality. A skill. Whatever you want to call it." explained Father Sherlock. "Everybody told me I was weird, at the seminary, when I did that. No one ever said it... was... amazing." said the dark haired priest, feeling blushed for a moment. So adorable John thinks. "As for example now, I can deduce which is your state right now. Just have a look at the growing bulge down here..." Then he slightly grabbed Father John's crotch. That was it. That was enough.

"Father Sherlock, stop this!" said angrily the shorter man. "We're supposed to be fair and pure and priests, for God's sake! This is all a mistake. We're going to stop this now, I – I order you to stop."

The other man was quite surprised by John's reaction. He didn't expect that... Not at all. So he separated inmediately, still looking at the priest directly.

"We are... erm... going to forget all of this. This has never happened. Never. And no one will ever know about the things we said and... and happened in general." said the blonde man, remembering the touches and breathhing and... His cock twitched under the cassock with those thoughts. He cleared his throat. "Clear?"

"Yes, Sir" said slowly and serious Father Sherlock "I'm sorry, Sir".

"Sherlock... Yoou don't have to call me Sir. You can still call me John. Or Father John, whatever you like. Let's just forget this."

"Fine then, John" answered Sherlock.

And he has chosen that option...

"Well, I think it's enough for today. You can nnow prepare yourself for tomorrow's lecture. If you've got any doubts or problems just... just tell me." said Father John witth an impersonal and intense voice.

"All right. I'm leaving. Thanks for everything, John" murmured while walking to the door. My name sounds good in his mouth... secretely thought the shorter man.

"By the way" stopped Sherlock just before leaving completely the office "Can I say something?"

"Yes, what is it?"

"How much time are you going to avoid what you feel about me? I don't want an answer. Just think about it, Father." and, inmediately, he left.

A surprised John Watson was still standing, trying to think and calling himself the worst of the existent words because of having such impure thoughts and with a man! And blaming the other "bastard" because... Because he was right. How much time was he going to live with these thoughts in his head and, even more important, knowing the other man was feeling the same way? He was a strong man, he could deal with this.

With a sigh, he left the office, and saw the church in silence. The tall man had left. That was exactly what he needed. Peace. And time to think. So he started walking and... he noticed he couldn't do such a thing. Because SOMETHING between his legs was in his way... He made another try but it didn't work again.

"Agh!" he shouted. It hurt. So much. His cock was twitching, looking for attention. He couldn't leave it like that because, as an ex-army doctor, he knew that the most probable thing was it wouldn't disappear so easily. And, if it did, the later pain was going to be horrible. The pleasure moan which escaped his lips when the fabriic of his cassock slightly touched his growing length confirmed his situation, and, finally, his decision. He had to do it. It was a sin, yes. But in this case it was something related with his health, so he was sure God wouuld make an exception. He barely walked to the confessional, closing the wood box when he was inside. He sat down and before starting he thought first: All right. This thing I'm going to do is just a need. Not pleasure. I'm not goinng to think about anything that can arouse me or make the experience pleasurable because I'm a man whose life is entirely dedicated to God. Sex isn't for me. Any kind of sex. So no arousing thoughts about Sherlock. I mean! About anything. Sherlock is over. He's just my companion, we will work together and that will be the further we'll get in our "friendship". So... Let's finnish this.

Without a word, he had a deep breath and started quiting his cassock from the bottom, leaving it on his waist and letting his pants exposed. They seemed they were going to explode. It was long time ago when his dick had been like that... Well, never before had been that hard... With a sigh he just slightly touched his length, gasping at the contact.

Control yourself, Watson thought to himself.

Finally, with a shaking hand, he grabbed his cock, full in his hand. The sensitive flesh inmediately responded, sending hot waves of pleasure though his tense body. His mind was still empty, just occupied with the sensation which was invading his whole existence I didn't remember how nice this ffelt he thought, because this was nearly a forgotten practise since he was younger and entered the seminary. Slowly, he started working on his length, stroking calm, moaning with the contact, and whispering without noticing a familiar word: Sherlock. He was so lost in the pleasure ha had not the enough strength to keep away his mind from the young and sexy new priest. In his head he saw Sherlock walking to him with rhythmic steps, looking directly into his eyes, and stripping himself. The cassock fell down to the floor with a slightly "blop" sound. There he was: the grey eyed priest was completely naked, running his hands all over his pale skin... taking his long cock between his fingers. John imagined how texture of his skin must feel under his hands, and that thought made him stroke harder, moaning louder this time. Now, the fantasy dark haired priest was on his knees, looking with bright eyes at the blonde's penis, even with an air of innocence in his gesture.

"A-ah!" screamed John, increasing the strokes, rocking his hips, fucking harder his hand. The "innocent" young priest had now his mouth full of John, sucking it and touching himself at the same time. John could even feel Sherlock's warm mouth, the pressure of his tongue against the tip of his cock...

"She-Sherlock!" he, finally, shouted in that wood box, orgasming at last, feeling his hot cum run through his fingers, spilting rhythmically, letting his head fall back against the wood wall.

"Sherlock..." he whispered with a small smile in his mouth. It soon became a frozen one. What had he just done?! He was supposed to keep his mind away from Father Sherlock and he had ended screaming his name in pure extasis! He was weak... He was weak in what Father Sherlock bloody Holmes refered. Now it was clear that his existence next to that man was going to be full of sexual frustration, useless fights against his own thoughts and... sins. Because he wouldn't be able to control that. Noticing this and still having his forehead pearled with sweat, trying to regulate his breathing, he looked up and, giving up his tries to avoid the fact that he was attracted to the priest, he said:

"God, please, forgive me"

Thanks for reading! The second and last chapter is being "baked", so it won't take me long to upload it. All kind of reviews will be welcomed.