"Here you are, Father."
Jason smiled as he accepted his latte from the barista. "Thanks, Amy. How have you been?"
Amy's thin, pale face twitched slightly, her eyes darting to the other barista at the till. "Well…to be honest, not so great," she said in a low voice. "It's been hard, the…the cravings, you know. Sometimes it's so strong, I just…I don't think…"
Jason gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. "Be strong. I believe in you, even if you don't believe in yourself."
Amy grimaced. "You don't know-"
"I do know," Jason said firmly. "Tell you what. Why don't I swing by here after your shift? We'll grab a bite, see a movie, or get a drink. Whatever you like, my treat."
Amy ducked her head. "You don't have to go to all that trouble for me, Father, honestly. I'm sure you have-"
"Hey, what makes you think I'm doing this for you?" Jason interrupted, arching an eyebrow. "Just because I'm a man of God now doesn't mean I've given up having friends."
Amy fiddled with the end of her braid as a small, tentative smile crept over her face. "Six o'clock ok?"
Jason grinned. "Sounds great. See you then."
Amy nipped back behind the counter to serve the next customer. Jason grabbed his coffee and headed out into the crisp autumn afternoon.
It was a glorious day, the late afternoon sun bathing the streets of Gotham in a warm golden glow, making it all seem much brighter and cleaner than it normally was. There was a hint of snow on the wind, and he made a mental note to check up on the homeless residents of his neighbourhood in the next few days, to make sure they knew they would have a place to go once the weather turned. He sipped his coffee appreciatively even as his fingers twitched at his side. The taste of coffee and cigarettes would always be indelibly seared into his brain, inextricable as peanut butter and jelly, ketchup and French fries. He would not allow himself the vice, however. Smoking one thing invariably led to smoking other things, and before he knew it, he'd be chasing the dragon down to the depths of hell and this time, there would be no divine intervention, no second chance, only the darkness and the horror and the need forever burning in his veins.
"Eternal God, Whose mercy is endless, and treasury of compassion inexhaustible, look kindly upon us, and increase Your mercy in us, that in difficult moments, we might not despair, nor become despondent, but with great confidence, submit ourselves to Your holy will, which is Love and Mercy Itself. Amen," he muttered quickly, as much for Amy as for himself.
He took a deep breath and sighed. Some days, he wondered if he should give up coffee altogether just to avoid the temptation, but with a café on every corner, it was far too difficult to avoid. Some cravings were worth fighting – caffeine was not. Besides, it was too useful a tool for getting reluctant people to open up to him. Meeting at the church or having a priest visit your home were both equally intimidating prospects for some, but few could refuse a friendly invitation for a cup of coffee.
He rounded the corner, stepping onto the main street of his neighbourhood.
"Yo! Yo, Jay! Over here!"
Jason turned to find a familiar group of teenagers lounging in front of a convenience store across the street. He hesitated, checking his stride as he considered pretending he hadn't heard them. But they might follow him then, and he didn't want to risk making a target of himself. With a sigh, he turned to cross the street.
He took in their appearances at a glance, noting, with dismay, a few new gang tattoos on some of the younger boys. They hadn't exactly been his friends before he died – he'd had few enough of those, if any – but he had grown up with them, and like so many others in the neighbourhood, they had all been caught up in the Brother Blood cult to varying degrees.
"Hey, Trav, long time no see." Jason shoved his hands into his coat pockets instinctively, although he no longer carried a weapon on his person.
"Still thumpin' your bible every night?" Travis said, with a lewd gesture. The other guys laughed.
Jason snorted. "Masturbation is a sin, and from the looks of it, one that you indulge in far too often."
"Burn," Bobby said.
"Whatever, I got bitches to do that shit for me. Whaddyou got, choirboys?" Travis sneered. "You like 'em young, Jay? Little kids get you off? That why you got into all this churchy bullshit?"
Jason rolled his eyes. "This 'churchy bullshit' saved my life, in more ways than one. God gave me a second chance, and I believe it was so I could serve Him."
"Hey, what was it like when you died?" Deke asked. He was one of the younger kids in the group, and the one Jason was most disappointed to see wearing gang colours. "Did you see like, a white light, and angels and demons and shit?"
Jason looked down to hide a wince. He didn't like to think about his death too closely. He didn't remember much, but whatever snippets of emotions he did recall terrified him.
"Naw, weren't nothin' like that," he said, and immediately cringed internally. His grammar tended to slip when he was flustered. Father Bruce would be disappointed in his lack of discipline. Annoyed at himself for letting such an innocuous question throw him, he quickly reigned in his emotions. "I mean, I don't remember much of anything. I just remember waking up in the hospital."
"Were you like, dead dead, for real?" Bobby asked.
Jason nodded. "I was dead for 12 minutes, 42 seconds. The docs called my time of death and everything. At least, that's what Father Bruce told me. Then I just…started breathing again, and three months later, I woke up. If that's not a miracle, and a testament to His unconditional mercy, I don't know what is."
"Whatever, man," Travis scoffed. "Go peddle your bullshit someplace else."
"All right, I'll go," Jason said with a shrug. "But if any of you guys have more questions, feel free to hit me up at the church. My door's open any time."
"Didn't you hear me? I said fuck off!" Travis growled.
Jason contained a sigh as he turned and headed back to the church at a leisurely pace – it wouldn't do for them to think he was running away. Well, at least they still respected him enough not to seriously harass or attack him. That was something. He wished he could do more, though, especially for kids like Deke. Sometimes he wondered if maybe he wasn't meant for something else, something that made more of an impact, especially on the streets, but the thought usually fled as quickly as it came. No, whatever else he might have been, this path had a rightness to it that satisfied him on some arcane level.
At five o'clock, Jason stopped by the parish priest's office to find Father Bruce hunched over his desk, scribbling out his homily for Sunday. There were discarded balls of notebook paper all around his desk.
"Still working on that, huh?"
Bruce barely looked up from his work, merely grunting to acknowledge his presence.
"Is there anything else you need me to do?" Jason prompted.
"You may go," Bruce said distractedly.
"All right, well I'm going out for the night, then. If you need me, just call my cell."
"Hmm," Bruce said, no longer paying any attention to him whatsoever.
With an indulgent smile, Jason pulled the office door shut on his way out. Some members of the parish found Father Bruce rather intimidating, with his height and bulk and his piercing gaze, but Jason knew that beneath that imposing exterior, he was a kind, compassionate man. People just rarely got past the surface, which was a shame, really.
He went back to his room in the rectory to change out of his cassock and into a long sleeved black clergy shirt and a black pair of trousers. He finished by slipping the collar into his shirt and pulling on his black wool coat. Walking quickly, he left the rectory.
Several blocks from the coffee shop, he was disappointed to see Travis and his gang still loitering on the street, this time in front of a locally owned convenience store called Frank's. Just as he was about to take an alternative route to avoid them, he heard Travis shout something. Although Jason couldn't understand the words at that distance, there was no mistaking the sneering contempt in the teenager's voice. He hesitated, turning to see what was going on.
There were two men standing outside the convenience store with plastic bags of food, surrounded by Travis and his gang. One of the men was short, with a compact build and dark hair, and the other was a tall, lanky redhead. From their dress, the men did not belong here. It wasn't that they were wearing anything too out of the ordinary, it was just something about the cut and colour of the clothing that marked them as strangers. Before Jason knew it, he had travelled half the distance to scene of the altercation.
"Hand it over, or I swear I'll gut you," Travis snarled. Jason caught the metallic flash as Travis brandished a switchblade, and his stomach dropped into his shoes. His hand went automatically to his pocket to grope for a knife that was no longer there.
"Look, we don't want any trouble," the dark haired stranger said as he handed the plastic bags of goods over to Bobby. His voice was deep and resonant, flavoured lightly with an accent that Jason couldn't place, something ancient and vaguely European sounding.
"Listen to this gay ass motherfucker," Travis mocked. "Where you from, Transylvania or something?" The others laughed at this.
"We're with Haley's Circus. I'm Dick Grayson of the Flying Graysons. Perhaps you've heard of us?"
By now, most of the boys were laughing and making various derisive comments.
Jason was behind Travis and Bobby as he approached, and though the two strangers could see him, the gang had yet to notice him. "Is there a problem here?" he asked loudly.
Travis whirled on him and for a second, was surprised enough to hide the knife behind his back. Then he saw who it was, and whipped the knife back out to wave it in Jason's face. "This don't concern you, Biblebitch. Now get the fuck outta here before I send you back to Jesus."
Jason stood his ground calmly, although his heart was pounding and he wished desperately that he had a weapon with which to defend himself. The thought was all wrong, he knew, but as the saying goes, you can take the boy out of the hood.
"Gimme a break," Jason said with a lot more confidence than he really felt. "You really think you can threaten me with all these witnesses around? How dumb can you be?"
Travis glanced up and down the street. There weren't many people about – locals knew better than to linger on the streets after dark in this neighbourhood - but there were a few people across the street striding quickly away from them, and of course the convenience store clerk, who was staring at them with wide, worried eyes, one of his hands hidden beneath the counter.
"Fuck you," Travis spat, though he snapped the switchblade closed and stuffed it back into his pocket. "Come on, let's bounce. This scene's gettin' tired. Let the fag carnies and their paedo priest fuck each other for all I care."
"Not so fast," Jason said. "Give them back their things."
Travis turned back around and got right up in Jason's face, so close that Jason could smell his cheap cologne. Jason resisted the urge to back up.
"Tell me what to do again. I fucking dare you," Travis grated through clenched teeth.
Jason met that savage glare with a firm but non-threatening stare. Or at least, that's what he was going for. Who knows what Travis was really reading from him.
After a moment, Travis snorted derisively at him, as though he'd won their unspoken battle of wills. "Next time I see you, you're a dead man." Then he snatched the plastic bags from Bobby's hands and hurled them to the ground, where he stomped viciously on them. The rest of the gang took their cues from him, and each stepped on or kicked something as they stalked away, loudly slinging racial and homophobic slurs as they went.
Jason exhaled shakily and unclenched his fists at his side. "Are you all right?" he asked, addressing the two strangers.
They turned from watching Travis and his gang leave to look at Jason. "We're fine, thanks to you," the man who had identified himself as Dick Grayson said. He smiled, and Jason suddenly felt all the air leave his lungs. The man was…beautiful, with delicate features, flawless olive skin, jet black hair and blue eyes that shone brightly even in the harsh fluorescent glare of the convenience store's external lights.
"Yeah, thanks for your help," the other man echoed, though Jason barely heard him.
He felt pinned by Dick Grayson's gaze, drawn to him like Icarus to the sun, knowing it will mean certain death but unable to free himself from that hypnotic draw.
Dick cocked his head as a small, worried frown erased that glorious smile. "Are you all right, Father?" He touched Jason's arm lightly in concern.
At the touch, electricity jolted up Jason's arm, setting his entire body alight with an unbearably ecstatic tingling sensation. He jerked out of Dick's reach even as he felt his cock stir in his pants. Utterly mortified by the inexplicable reaction, he stammered out "I-I'm fine." He looked down at the smashed purchases on the floor, and decided that yes, that was a much safer thing to look at than Dick. "What a mess! Here, lemme get this...it's the least I can do." He dug his wallet out of his pocket and began pulling bills from it.
"That's really not necessary," Dick said.
"Seriously, don't worry about it," the other man said.
"I insist," Jason said. He shoved the fistful of bills into Dick's hands without meeting his eyes. But apparently, that was a mistake too, because for a moment, they touched, skin on skin, and though the electrifying feeling didn't happen again, it made Jason's blood roar in his ears and his heart hammer in his chest. Dick's palms were warm and dry, and Jason suddenly wanted them on him, Dick's hands all over his body, touching him, making him- He recoiled in horror at the impure thoughts seething through his mind. "I…I'm so sorry," he blurted.
"It's not your fault," Dick said mildly.
"Unless, of course, you can mind control people," the other man said. "In which case, I'd be very concerned."
Dick rolled his eyes at his friend. "Please, Father…? We can't take your money." He held the wad of money out to Jason.
"Uh, it's Jason. Just call me Jason," Jason said, taking a step back to avoid Dick's hand – both because he didn't want the money back, and because he was afraid of what would happen if he touched Dick again. He was more flustered than he'd been in…maybe ever, and he wasn't sure he could stop himself from doing or saying something wholly inappropriate. "And please keep the money. Really, it's the least I can do." For perving on you like a disgusting john, he finished internally.
Finally, Dick pocketed the money with a shrug. "All right, if you insist. Thank you, Jason. I'm Dick by the way, Dick Grayson, and this is my friend Roy Harper. We're with Haley's Circus. I'm one of the headlining acts, The Flying Graysons," he said proudly.
"It's nice to meet you," Jason said, including both of them in his smile, though he couldn't help but blush when Dick returned the smile with a dazzling grin, white teeth stark against tanned skin.
Dick regarded him for a moment before he said, "Tell you what, how about I give you something in return for the groceries. Would you at least accept that?" He reached into his other pocket and drew out several pieces of paper. He offered them to Jason with a smile. "Go on, take them. They don't cost me a thing."
Jason hesitated, but then he took them from Dick (without touching him). Closer examination revealed that they were tickets to the circus.
"These are general admission tickets to the circus," Dick said, pointing to the two larger tickets printed on white card stock, "and these are the ones for my show, The Flying Graysons," he said, indicating the two smaller tickets printed on blue paper. "The show starts at 8pm."
"Uh, 8pm tonight?" Jason asked.
Dick nodded.
"Well, actually, I've got plans to meet a friend, and-" Suddenly remembering Amy, Jason checked his watch and was horrified to note that it was now 6:15pm. "Shit!" he exclaimed.
Dick's eyebrows rose, though he looked more amused than scandalised. "We've made you late, haven't we?"
Jason flushed at the expletive. Well, that was going to be a few Hail Mary's at least. "I-I'm sorry, I have to go," he said. "Thank you for these, but I can't-"
"If you can't be there tonight, then come another night when you're free," Dick interrupted, refusing to take the tickets back just as Jason had refused to take his money. "Show your tickets to the person on the door and tell them you're my special guest; they'll let you right in."
An unexpected kernel of warmth bloomed in Jason's chest – he'd never been anyone's special anything. "Well…I guess I could come by later this week..."
"I insist," Dick said, once again unleashing that paralysing smile of his on Jason.
"Then I guess I'll see you soon," Jason said, a bit breathlessly (much to his disgust).
"I look forward to it. Good night, Jason."
"Goodnight," Jason said. Then he turned and sprinted for the coffee shop.
By the time Jason made it back to the rectory, it was midnight and he was beyond exhausted. Already paranoid and on edge, Amy had taken his tardiness as a rejection, and he'd spent the majority of the night talking her down from the proverbial ledge. Not that he'd expected it to be a fun evening – helping to keep recovering addicts from relapsing was always emotionally draining, especially for a fellow ex-addict – but he really wished it hadn't been quite so fraught. Still, he couldn't quite bring himself to wish the encounter with Dick and Travis hadn't happened. Even though he would be less likely to be stabbed the next time he stepped into the street, he also wouldn't have met Dick.
Dick…
He threw his clothes into a pile on top of the dresser and settled between the cold sheets in nothing but his boxer briefs.
What on earth had made him react that way to Dick? Sure, Dick was good looking, but so were a lot of people, and he'd never been attracted to any of them. Come to think of it, he'd never been attracted to anyone, at least not sexually. He supposed that wasn't normal, but he'd spent most of his teens taking care of his mom, and that hadn't left much time to dwell on anything other than the basic necessities. He hadn't even had any friends his age, guy or girl, to talk to about this stuff, let alone someone to whom he might have developed an attraction. The closest he'd ever come to having a serious discussion about sex was when his father, drunk at the time, had told him he'd kill him if he ever brought home "some knocked up bitch". He smiled into the darkness. Those were good times. Not perfect, but they were a family then, and that had meant something.
Things had changed when his mom died. Wracked with grief and loneliness, he'd turned to the only thing he knew that could take the pain away – heroin. The subsequent slide into depravity had been rapid and steep. He had no illusions about any of the sordid things he'd done, though. Just because he'd been willing to be fucked in a grimy club toilet for a bag of heroin didn't make him gay. He'd derived no pleasure from it, unless you counted his pleasure in the high. Sex was a means to an end, and not a particularly pleasant one at that. To be honest, when he'd joined the priesthood, the celibacy part had been easy. He had been only too happy to rid himself of sex, and all the pain, disease, degradation, guilt and shame that came with it. He thanked God every day that he'd never have to put up with it again.
With a sigh, he closed his eyes and relaxed. That thing with Dick had just been an aberration, a one-time reaction to a stressful situation. He had no interest in sex, with Dick or anyone else – never had, and never would. He smiled softly, the strength of his convictions comforting him as he drifted off to sleep.
Sometime later, Jason woke to the soft snick of his bedroom door latching shut. He opened his eyes to see a dark shape hovering near his door.
"Bruce? What is it? What's wrong?" he asked, propping himself up on an elbow. Blue eyes glowed brightly in the darkness, and suddenly, Jason's heart began to pound. "Bruce?"
"Hello, Jason." The intruder approached the bed, and as it got closer, the hulking shape resolved itself into Dick's muscular yet lithe form.
Jason sat up, clutching his blankets across his conspicuously naked chest. "Dick! What are you doing in here? How did you find me? This…this is my bedroom! You can't be in here, it's not…it's-"
"It's ok," Dick reassured him. He sat down on the bed beside him, brushing his leg in a way that made Jason swallow hard. "It wasn't hard to find you. This church is only a few blocks from where we met."
"Yes but, what are you doing here?" Jason repeated. "It's the middle of the night!"
Dick smiled that dazzling smile of his, bright blue eyes and shining white teeth glinting in the darkness. "I wanted to make sure you got home safely, especially after those boys threatened you."
"That's um…very kind of you, but you didn't have to check up on me. I've known those guys since we were all kids – they're all talk." That wasn't entirely true, but Jason wasn't going to get into Travis' violent history now. "Besides, you shouldn't be in here. This is…inappropriate."
"Is it?" Dick asked. His lips quirked in a sly grin as he reached up to stroke Jason's cheek, just the barest hint of a caress with the backs of his fingertips.
A shiver ran down Jason's spine at the touch, his cock instantly hardening beneath the duvet. He tried to protest, to push Dick away, but the only sound that emerged was a small, needy whimper.
"I saw the way you looked at me tonight, Jason. This is what you wanted, isn't it?" Dick said, his voice a low, seductive purr. He leaned in closer, his lips just brushing the edge of Jason's ear.
"N-no!" Jason cried. With an effort of will, he wrenched himself from Dick's embrace, scooting back several paces on the bed to put some distance between them. "I-I'm flattered, really, Dick, but I can't. This is wrong. I'm a priest! I took vows before God - chastity, obed-"
Dick cut him off with a kiss, closing the space between them seemingly without moving. His lips seared Jason from the inside out, awakening a raging lust in him that he had never known. Jason's body seemed to react of its own accord, independent of the protests his brain was lodging. His arms came up to wrap around Dick, to pull him closer so that he could feel the hard, muscular heat of him pressed against his chest. Dick was devouring his mouth, his soul, and Jason felt paralysed beneath the ecstatic onslaught, his body pliable, moulding to Dick's will as a matter of course. Dick's hands were everywhere, and they were just as Jason had imagined they would be, calloused, firm yet gentle, caressing, exploring, teasing. He was so hard he was aching, his entire body quivering with unspent sexual tension. When Dick finally entered him, he wanted to scream from the sheer joy of it, though he could barely make a sound.
"You are so hot," Dick growled into his ear as he fucked into him, long, luxuriant strokes that made sparks fly behind Jason's eyes with every thrust. No one had ever made him feel this way, had ever made this humiliating act feel anything less than uncomfortable at best and excruciating at worst. Dick's hand curled into his hair, the other gripping his hip, holding him down, fucking him, owning him, and all Jason could think was more. "So perfect," Dick murmured against his skin, and Jason glowed with pride at the compliment. Then Dick's hand wrapped around his cock, and it was all Jason could do to bite back a moan. "That's it," Dick purred. "You're so close. You've never come before, have you?"
Jason shook his head, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes from the overwhelming feelings coursing through his body like a raging, rain-swollen river.
Then Dick scraped a fingernail over his sensitive head just as a hard thrust caught him just right, and when Dick commanded "Now, Jason," Jason came with a silent scream, his body arching off the bed as he shot white hot jets of come all over Dick and himself.
Dick fucked him through the aftershocks, and finally, just as the continued stimulation was almost too much to take, Dick came with a low moan, his sweaty forehead pressed to Jason's neck.
They laid like that for a time, breathing, Dick's body covering Jason's, a pleasant and comforting weight. Then Dick pulled back slightly to gaze down at him. Jason was struck once again by his big, almost luminously blue eyes.
"This was fun, but I have to go now," Dick said with mischievous grin.
Jason frowned, but the protests died in his throat when Dick silenced him with a kiss.
"I'll see you again soon, I promise," Dick said, his voice fading to silence.
Jason snapped awake with a start, sitting up abruptly in his cold, dark bedroom. He clicked on his bedside lamp with shaking hands and cast about the room, but no one was there. Then he felt it, a cool wetness against his thigh, and his heart sank. He whipped the duvet off the bed to stare down in consternation at the dark stains on his boxer briefs.
"Shit," he muttered, Hail Mary's be damned.