Author: Pirate Turner
Dedicated To: My wonderful, beloved husband, Jack, whom I love more than words can ever hope to say and who definitely inspired this particular piece quite marvelously!
Rating: R
Summary: Trent pays homage at his and Carlos' weekly Sunday service.
Warnings: Slash, Established Relationship
Word Count: 912
Date Written: 21 November, 2010
Disclaimer: Trent Malloy, Carlos Sandoval, any other characters mentoined within, and Sons of Thunder are & TM their respective owners, none of whom are the author; are used without permission; and may not be used without permission. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Trent Malloy had always been a man of faith, but now there were two faiths to which he devoted himself always, heart and soul. He wasn't entirely sure when it had started happening, and neither was the man who was both his savior, hope, light, church, and congregation all in one in addition to being his best friend and loyal partner in all aspects of the term.
His busy life had almost pulled him away from the church entirely, but for a long time now, Trent had been present and most ready for services every Sunday morning. He went to bed in the arms of the one he loved every Saturday night and awoke to Heaven every Sunday morning. He was kissed awake by the glory of love and touched, caressed, and cherished as though he was most golden himself. Not a second was wasted when he and his beloved Carlos were together, and every moment they could spare was devoted to worshipping at each other's temple.
Trent threw his shaggy, blonde head back now with a cry that began as a ripple and then exploded throughout his house. Carlos' prayer of celebration joined his, and they held to each other as they celebrated the highest level of love they had ever known before drifting back down, still held tightly, securely, and lovingly in each other's strong and caring arms, through the clouds and to the paradise on Earth that they had found together.
"Wow," Trent breathed after a moment, his heart still hammering in his ears.
Carlos looked up at his love with a broad grin filling his handsome, dark face. "We get better every time!"
Trent nodded his agreement. "It's Heaven every time," he murmured before leaning down and tasting the sweet nectar of his partner's lips again.
They had barely began to feast a second time that early Sunday morn when their clock went off. Carlos bit back his groan of dismay as Trent pulled out of his arms and slapped the button to silence the alarm. "Time to get ready for church," he announced, forcing himself to roll out from underneath the covers and touch his feet to the cold, hard floor.
The question of rather or not they really had to was poised on the tip of Carlos' tongue, but he wasn't going to ask it for he knew how important Trent's faith was to him. Yet then Trent turned back to flash him a look intermingled with teasing, love, dancing humor, and perhaps just a tiny bit of guilt for placing his love on such a pedestal as he confessed, "Our second church."
Carlos' mouth fell agape. His brown eyes searched Trent's baby blues for understanding of this latest admission. "Second church?" he queried softly and huskily.
Trent nodded as red tinged his cheeks. "I pay homage to your temple every Sunday morning, too, love," he said, "and maybe it's wrong of me, but it's to you I want to pay service every day and night of the week, every moment of my life."
Carlos scooted across to where Trent sat and wrapped his arms around him again. "Love," he assured him, his voice both deep and husky, "is never wrong," and then he kissed him again long and deep. His hands swept over his body, paying tribute to his golden hero and their love yet again, before he forced himself to pull ever so slightly away. "But you're right. It's time for church, and we can continue this when we get back."
Trent grinned, and Carlos couldn't help but to compare the look upon his love's handsome face to that of a guilty, little boy. His hand had somehow fallen into his, and Trent gave him a gentle squeeze. "I hope the preacher hurries."
"If he doesn't," Carlos vowed, leaning back across the bed to reach him more closely, "then we will when it's over. Besides, we've got the rest of our lives to devote to each other, and we're not going to waste a moment."
"Nothing is ever wasted when I'm with you, sweetheart," Trent barely had time to say before Carlos was kissing him again. Then he watched, torn between doing what his body, heart, and soul cried out for and fulfilling his duty, as his Mexilove pulled himself away from him and rushed to the bathroom.
He didn't have to ask Carlos why he ran. He ran every Sunday morning about this same time for he knew that if he did not force himself to pull away from him, they'd never make it to the church. One touch between them burned them both with fires far brighter and hotter than anything they'd ever felt before. One touch melted them entirely and would surely bring the church down, Trent thought with a grin and a merry laugh.
Ah, yes, it was going to be another beautiful Sunday, and as soon as they got out of church, he'd be right back to paying his favorite tribute and incurring his love's most delightful service! Like the giddy, little boy in the front row who could barely contain his enthusiasm to go play and whose mother had to keep a tight grip on him to keep him from wriggling and talking the entire time the preacher was giving his sermon, Trent couldn't wait to get back home and play again with the man who would always be his best friend and ultimate love, his sweet, darling, and oh-so handsome Carlos!
The End
