Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Lies, Crimes, and Punishments ❯ The Descent ( Chapter 2 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Short glossary:
cassock - big skirt type thing priests wear
zucchetto - skull cap thingy
mozzetta - cape do-dad that's worn around the shoulders (partially covers cassock)

A big thank you to Mr Damien Broderick - sci-fi master and source of all catholic knowledge.

Warnings/Thoughts: Very explicit violence and sex. You've been warned. I'm quite proud of this chapter - it was difficult to write correctly.
This one's for Uncle Minotaur. ;)

He couldn't meet anyone's eyes.
"This is the body of Christ-" He placed another wafer in another pious mouth. "This is the body-" A mouth. "This is the body-" A mouth. He couldn't meet their eyes, some innocent, some filled with guilt. Like he was. "This is the body-" Another parishioner kneeled in front of him. "This is the..."
Kneeling. Black hair. Blue eyes. Open, moist mouth. Craving what he'd put inside...
But it wasn't Ken. Panicked, he turned to Bishop Hiromiya, "I'm suddenly very dizzy, could you please continue?" The aging priest nodded in worry, taking the wafers from two pale, shaking hands. Izzy headed through the near-hidden door, not stopping or thinking until he reached his room. He collapsed on the bed, gripping his smoothed hair in both hands. "Forgive me, heavenly father..." Izzy tried breathing deeply to calm himself down. Why couldn't he stop thinking? He closed his eyes in frustration, but popped them open again quickly, an image forming behind his closed lids. Oh, it was a wonderful image, but... He couldn't think like that. Not about anyone. Especially not about Ken! Yet it was all he wanted to think about. He caught himself smiling, wishing Ken were here again. Picturing the slender man standing against the opposite wall, a 'why don't you come fuck me' look on his face...
NO! Koushiro stood, straightening out the bed sheets and picking things up around the room. Have to do something. Anything. Get mind off Ken. He grabbed the broom, sweeping fervently.

Izzy dropped the damp paper towel in the trash. There. He'd killed two hours and cleaned a few rooms. Things looked much better. He felt much better.
"Am I interrupting?" The smooth voice made him gasp silently, not needing to turn around to connect it with a face. Ken.
"Ken?" He turned around anyway, staring at him in partial shock. After he'd worked so hard to clean his mind, Ken was leaning against the door frame languidly, a sly smile on his lips and his eyes inspecting Koushiro with avid interest. "Why are you here?!" It couldn't come out sounding any worse than it did, but he didn't care. Izzy narrowed his eyes, trying to scare him off.

Ken chuckled softly, he wouldn't be gotten rid of so easily.
"To see you. Among other things." The mischievous smile grew, and he slowly slunk towards the priest.
"Ken, I don't want to see you. Please leave."
"But isn't it your duty to help those less fortunate? Don't throw me out, Koushiro, I'm begging you..." Humorous sarcasm wasn't working, and Izzy continued to avoid his steady approach. Not thinking, he let himself be trapped in a corner. Slightly panicked, he looked for a way around Ken. But he saw Izzy's shifting eyes and caught his arms, pressing him into the drywall. "Don't make me beg, Kou." Izzy fought against his grip until Ken started kissing his neck, softly working down to his collar. He closed his eyes, wanting to die - wanting Ken to continue. Izzy lost control of his body, collapsing and letting Ken guide him to the tile floor. He was shaking slightly, and the younger man kissed his face sloppily. Something tugged in the back of his mind. This was wrong. No, more than that-
"Ken... Ken!" He pushed himself up so he was sitting. "The... the door's open..." He looked sheepish, and felt worse. The black haired man stood, nudging the door closed, and returned to his prey, eyes never leaving their lock on the priest's face. He really didn't care whether or not Koushiro was okay with his plans. Despite it, he knelt next to the frightened body, whispering false words of comfort.
"Please Koushiro. I need you. I'm in hell without you." He sucked on his earlobe lightly, wrapping his arms around his love, laying him on the floor. "I told you before and I'll say it again so you understand: I love you." Ken hit a certain little spot behind Izzy's ear with his tongue, making him writhe in pleasure. It was that simple - Koushiro was his.

Sucking on his sensitive throat, Ken removed his own clothes, then started on Koushiro's. The collar was an obstacle. He pushed his fingers through the gelled hair, across the spot where his zucchetto should've been perched, to the back of his neck. To the spot where the two ends of the white band of fabric met. He pulled it off slowly, dipping his tongue to the newly exposed tender depression on Koushiro's neck. The red haired man grunted softly, his black eyes wide open and focused on the ceiling. He didn't care anymore what Ken did to him.
As long as no one knew.
Ken undid the clasp that held the edges of the mozzetta around Koushiro's shoulders. If no one knew, it was alright. With the nimble fingers of a well-paid typist, the pure white starched shirt flew unbuttoned across the room as well. Ken's fingers were so cold as they ran feverishly down the older man's ribs. Izzy shivered, a decidedly sooky smile set on his lips. Right and wrong, who the fuck cared? He was breathing through his mouth in swift pants as Ken's agile tongue departed to the south from his navel. Who really cared? He wasn't even aware of his cassock being pulled away from his thighs.

The cold tile on his skin shook him back to a harsh reality, naked on the floor.
"Ken, I don't know if I-"
"Nonsense." His arms were on either side of his chest, propping himself up so he could stare into the scared eyes. "You know. You've known all along. You know what you want." The long black hair spilled across Koushiro's white shoulders, kissing him deeply. "I can feel what you want." Izzy blushed blood red at this, throbbingly aware of what he referred to. What was now cupped in Ken's warm fingers.

Somehow, Ken must've been planning on this, planning on the fact that Koushiro would be distracted by his kisses and one-handed fondling. He gasped as something very cold and smooth crawled around his sensitive orifice. Ken's cold fingers spread electric ice through his nerves, burning fresh memories of sensation into his mind. Koushiro ground his hips against the hand that was probing his sensitive opening, unable to control himself. Why did this feel SO good? Izzy ran his fingertips over Ken's lips and chin appreciatively, his mouth smiling beneath Izzy's fingers when the younger man moaned with his ministrations. Sufficiently satisfied at his work, Ken pulled back, staring piercingly into his lover's black eyes. Something changed in them. Something.
Izzy stared back, a small sliver of desire diliating his pupils. Ken smirked, wriggling down his chest a little, anticipation flowing like heat throughout his body. Izzy licked his lips; knowing what was coming. Ken pulled Koushiro into his bare lap, lifting the priest's legs over his shoulders, positioning his own hard and evident need. Ken began to push into him slowly, all his energy and direction focused into a few inches of space. Koushiro let his head descend to the floor, his eyes closing. How could he breathe? His white body shook with desire as he was penetrated, slowly. Ken abruptly stopped, waiting.

The dark-haired genius knew how much this could hurt without preparation - but Ken was never one to show his sensitive or compassionate side - even now... and he felt bad about it. He was surprised that Koushiro hadn't gasped or at least gritted his teeth. Reaching down to Izzy's face, his little finger trailed over the thin cheeks, waiting to catch any fallen tears. There weren't any. Koushiro's eyes shot open.
"What are you waiting for?" he panted quietly. Yes, there was that desire again, a strange hunger. Like for the first time in ages, a thirsty man grasping clean, blue water. He kissed just below his delicate knee hotly, licking at it sensually, holding Koushiro's gaze. And started working back and forth slowly. Izzy closed his eyes again, squeezing them shut tightly. Ken rubbed against a tender spot of tissue deep inside and he half choked on a whimper. He brought his hands to Ken's thighs, bracing himself as he frantically encouraged the dispossessed man by meeting his thrusts in a bouncing fashion - forcing each movement further, deeper. The rhythm beat inside his brain. So. Good. So. Wonderful. He couldn't think, pleasure and need blinding his mind. Ken reached down, through their sweat, thumb caressing Izzy's neglected member. The redhead moaned, opening his mouth to let it out - vast and audible. He was being assaulted on all fronts; and he couldn't have been happier. Gone were the thoughts of shame and chastity. Gone. Like they were never there at all.

Abruptly, he knew the other man was nearing his peak. Ken forgot completely about what his hands were doing, grasping onto Izzy's thighs and losing himself in panicked motion. A black wall of fire creeped in on his vision, crying out the other man's private, delicate name that no one was allowed to speak. All his wonderful plans and dreams exploded into reality. Ken's thrusts were making the world spin for Koushiro. It was everything. It was his fingertips, his clammy palms, his bare hips. Everything. He bit his lip, craning his neck back, releasing all his personal pain onto Ken's stomach.

"Mmmm. My Koushiro." Ken pulled back from the embrace they had shared for the past few minutes. Calming down, descending to reality. He swept his fingers through the short hair possessively. "You do know that you are now officially mine." He got no reaction from the other, his heavy lidded eyes staring out into space. Ken smiled, using his index finger to pat Izzy's nose. "No, no, see. This clinches it - you're mine. No one else will have you. I get to keep you all to myself." Koushiro kept his stony face, sitting up and putting his clothes back on. Ken sat up, curling his knees to his chest as he watched. Now that he was dressed, Koushiro turned to the door, not glancing back.
"Ken. I. Never. Want to see you again." He said it as evenly as he could, a little self-hatred and Ken-hatred mistakenly sliding in. Ken just smiled.
"Oh, now here we go again." Life was all sillies and laughter as he feigned a bad impression of his lover. "I'm all pious and pure. I don't want you, Ken, even though I do. Blah, blah, blah. Kiss me, Ken. Hold me, Ken. Fuck me on this fucking floor, Ken." Koushiro spun around, eyes blazing.
"WHAT!?! ...Don't EVER speak to me, Ken! Don't come here again. If you can't... If you can't even..." Tears threatening to spill, Izzy marched from the room, slamming the door as loud as he'd let himself behind him.

Ken wasn't fazed. Still naked, he stood up, slipping on his black clothes. Lacing up his boots. Izzy was so silly. He'd come back to him. He'd have to. He had no choice.
Before he left too, he glanced around the room. Izzy would have a hard time coming back here, wouldn't he? Ken grinned, noting all the cracks in the ceiling and incongruities in the crown molding that a pair of black eyes must've focused on during the prelude. The images would've been burned into his brain. He laughed softly as he closed the door, walking to the back exit. He really didn't want to hurt Izzy. This train of thought kind of surprised him. But it was true. Maybe he'd be nice to him for the next few days and leave him alone like he wanted. Izzy made him happy. Few things did that anymore.

So he'd be nice to him for the next few days.

"Father?" The byproduct of his shame flowed down his cheeks. "Bishop Hiromiya?" There was only one thing to do. Fess up. It had worked in the past, letting all his shame go, cleansing himself. It HAD worked in the past. Now all he needed to do was find the elderly father. Find him and destroy his pure beliefs. Izzy shook his head, how could he do that to him? People here in Kitami didn't know the depraved flavor of his inner desires.

But he needed peace. He needed to get Ken and his acts out of his head. Out of his... heart? Of course, he'd always held a special place for Ken there: they had so much in common. But the past few years, isolation from the beautiful genius... Absence truly did make the heart grow fonder.
"Father Hiromiya?" So he wouldn't use his name. No one had to know WHO had helped him sin. He stopped in the hallway outside the father's room. For all his haste and hate, he had enjoyed himself. He had enjoyed the immense pleasure and attention Ken poured on him. The irreplaceable feeling of worth that he gave him when he pressed him into the wall of the shower, the floor of the rectory, showing how he didn't want to-couldn't begin to stop himself. Neither had Izzy. And he had enjoyed those moments when Ken wrapped his arms around him, murmuring soft undecipherable things into his skin. The security, the love that burned through him everywhere he touched.

Koushiro sighed heavily, closing his eyes. Yes, great. But there was still his conscience. Telling him he'd betrayed the second, no third, family willing to take him in and accept him. He walked the last few feet and knocked on the door.
"Bishop?" He had to be here, the rest of the church was empty. Poor old father, service wore him out easily and Izzy pushed the door open quietly, trying not to wake him. Sure enough, there he was. He smiled a little, relived. Then confused. Why was the bishop kneeling in front of his Holy water font? He walked up, reaching out to gently shake him awake. His shoulder felt funny and he didn't respond. Izzy's eyes trailed down to his hands, wrapped around the edge of the basin like claws. What in hell...? Starting to worry, Izzy pulled him away from the ceramic, jumping back like he'd been struck.
The... the... he'd... He stared as the father's body fell to the carpeting, in an undignified heap. His eyes bulged, his mouth contorted in a silent scream. A light trickle of blood escaped his blue nose and his celibate, flaccid penis protruded from his vestments, screaming at the obscenity of the scene. One of Izzy's hands ran to his mouth. He was still trying to put it all together. Reflexively, he spun around, eyes darting to every corner. Someone... Were they still here? Raw fear screamed at his brain: you stupid fuck, get the hell out of here! What if they're waiting for you, too?! The sick freaks that did this - waiting to feed their fetishes on another victim. He threw the door open, bunching up his cassock and running like there was no tomorrow. Barely making the corner, he threw the door open to his bedroom and snatched the phone. Three little numbers and five little seconds later he heard a sweet female voice streaming through the phone line.
"110, what's your emergency?"
"He... he..." Izzy was out of breath. "Bishop... Hiromiya... he's... dead."