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Father Geto Suguru moved inside the dim church with purposeful grace, his black clerical robes hugging his lithe form as he tidied the sacred space after the evening's ceremonies. The air still carried the faint scent of incense, a reminder of the day's devotions. Everyone had long since departed, leaving him alone. Or so he thought.
A sudden warmth enveloped him from behind, strong arms wrapping around his waist in a possessive embrace. Geto's breath hitched, his body tensing for a split second before recognition flooded him. That scent—rich, metallic with an undercurrent of something ancient and intoxicating—belonged to only one man. The heat of Satoru's body pressed against his back—adamant and familiar—sent a shiver down his spine.
“Satoru... What brings you here now? I already told you, didn't I?”, Geto's voice came out low and alluring, laced with a mix of exasperation and unspoken desire. He didn't pull away though; he never truly could when it came to his one and only love. Lord Gojo Satoru—his not so secret lover—buried his face in the crook of Geto's neck. He inhaled deeply, savouring the priest's scent—clean soap mingled with the subtle musk of arousal already stirring. His lips parted, trailing an open-mouthed path along the sensitive skin, from the pulse point at Geto's throat down to the collarbones covered underneath his clothes. Meanwhile, Gojo's hands started unbuttoning Geto’s cassock all the way down before roaming upward, groping Geto's chest through the fabric of his tight shirt, fingers kneading the firm pecs with deliberate pressure, thumbs circling the hardening nipples beneath.
Geto's eyes dilated, his body jolted at the intimate touch. A soft gasp escaped him as heat pooled in his core. “Satoru... No... Not here, please”, he murmured, his voice trembling with the effort to resist, even as his back arched instinctively into the vampire's hold. Gojo grinned against Geto's neck, canines grazing the skin just enough to taunt without breaking it. He shifted, capturing the priest's earlobe between his teeth in a gentle bite before whispering amorously, “What can I do, Suguru~? I've missed you so much, and you look so enticing right now. You don't hate it, do you?”. His tongue flicked out, licking the shell of Geto's ear, pushing aside the long, lush strands of dark hair that curtained it. He lapped persistently until the skin flushed a deep red, Geto's breaths coming quicker, more ragged.
Determined, Gojo ground his hips forward, pressing the hard bulge of his member between Geto's ass cheeks. The friction was deliberate—up and down, left and right—the priest's alluring curves wrapped so temptingly in those robes driving the vampire wild with hunger. “Look, Suguru~ You made me this way. Wearing this tight robe, exposing your curves. What a lewd Father you are. Take responsibility, Suguru”, Gojo purred, his voice a seductive rumble that vibrated against Geto's skin.
Geto tried to push back, his hands pressing weakly against Gojo's arms. “L-later, Satoru. We'll do it later, after I finish cleaning up the altar”, he insisted, glancing towards the sacred table where the remnants of the evening's Eucharist laid waiting to be cleared. But Gojo only pressed closer, his body moulding perfectly to Geto's—as if they were made as one—eliminating any space between them. One hand snaked around to the front, dipping lower to palm the growing erection straining against Geto's trousers.
“Ah~ But it seems like our friend here would like to disagree, don't you think, Father Geto?”, Gojo's fingers squeezed with just enough force to draw a whimper from the priest, stroking the huge length through the fabric in slow, teasing pulls. Geto's cheeks burnt at the title—Father Geto—a sacred title meant for his flock, not this sinful intimacy. He hated how it ignited something forbidden deep inside him. “Satoru, how many times do I tell you? Don't call me that”, he protested, his voice breathy and unconvincing.
Gojo's smile widened, predatory and frisky, as he squeezed Geto's member harder, his own breath heavy and hot against the priest's neck. “But you like it~ Look, you're getting harder, you lewd Father. I bet your cheeks are all flushed now”.
“It's a natural reaction when you're touching me and teasing me like that!”, Geto shot back, his hands flying up to cover his face in mortified arousal, hiding the deepening blush spreading across his skin. Gojo chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating through both of them. “Awww, Suguru~ Let me see your face, won't you?”. With effortless strength, he spun Geto around to face him, their bodies still flush, cocks now grinding together through their clothes in a heated friction that made Geto's knees weaken.
“No! Don't look”, he pleaded, trying to shield his embarrassing expression, but Gojo was incessant. The vampire captured Geto's wrists—gentle but firm—pulling his hands away, exposing the priest's vulnerable face. Gojo leaned in close, their foreheads nearly touching, his sky-blue eyes locking onto Geto's with intense hunger. “Father Geto. Look at me in the eyes. I want to see all of you”, he whispered, the words laced with dominance.
Geto hesitated, his long lashes fluttering as he slowly lifted his gaze. Finally, his soft violet eyes met Satoru's piercing blue, wide with a storm of desire and surrender. His cheeks and the bridge of his nose were flushed a deep pink, the evidence of his ardour, plain for the vampire to devour. Satoru’s eyes peered into those violet depths—the windows to Suguru's soul, laid bare in this moment of yearning.
As he closed the distance between them, Gojo's gape singed into Geto's, those usually kind blue eyes darkened with unrestrained lechery. Without another word, he crashed his lips onto Suguru's, the kiss fierce and demanding while his hands grabbed Geto’s robe to remove it from his body—leaving him only in his tight black shirt and pants. The starving vampire’s tongue pushed past the parched priest's parted lips, invading the warm cavern of his mouth with a hunger that left no room for hesitation. Their tongues clashed in a wet, heated battle, twisting and sliding against each other, tasting the faint bitterness of incense on Suguru's breath mixed with the sweet desperation building between them.
Satoru’s arms wrapped tightly around Suguru's body, one hand splaying across his back to hold him straight, while the other dipped lower, palms cupping the firm globes of Suguru's plump cheeks through the fabric. He squeezed hard, fingers pressing into the soft yet firm flesh as he pulled Suguru closer, grinding their hips together in a slow, deliberate roll. The friction of their clothed erections rubbing sent sparks of pleasure shooting through both of them—Satoru’s cock throbbing insistently against Suguru's.
Suguru's hands came up to Satoru’s chest, pushing lightly—too lightly to be sincere—his fingers curling into the vampire's shirt as muffled protests escaped into the kiss. “Satoru… Satoru…”, he gasped between the onslaught of lips and tongue, “Satoru, shtop...we can't...mhere”. Nevertheless, his body betrayed him, arching into the embrace, his own hips bucking subtly to chase more of that delicious pressure.
The kiss dragged on, two, maybe more full minutes of devouring each other, breaths mingling in hot pants—until Satoru finally pulled back with a wet pop. Streaks of saliva connected their swollen rosy lips, lustrous in the dingy candlelight, and both men's eyes were heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide with pleasure. Suguru's face was a vision of erotic submission—lips bruised and parted, cheeks flushed a deep crimson, violet eyes hazy with need.
“Don't tell me to stop when you look like this, Suguru”, Satoru murmured, his voice a low growl laced with charming amusement. His fingers were already working at Suguru's belt, deftly unzipping the front of his pants and loosening them just enough to slip inside. The cool breeze flowing from the nave brushed against Suguru's febrile skin as Satoru’s hand digged into the opening, palming the priest's bottoms directly now, thumb tracing the cleft teasingly.
Before Suguru could protest further, Satoru hoisted him up with effortless strength, lifting him onto the edge of the altar. The sacred surface felt cool against Suguru's thighs as his pants sagged lower and lower—the contrast only heightened the thrill of it all. Satoru stepped in between his spread legs, pressing close, his hands now fully cupped Suguru’s ass. His long fingers sought out the tight pucker of his hole, pressing against it with insistent circles, the pad of one digit nudging just past the rim without breaching. Suguru gasped, his head falling back slightly, long hair cascading over the altar's edge.
Invigorated by the touch, Suguru's hands trembled as they moved to Satoru’s zipper, tugging it down with urgent need. He reached in, wrapping his fingers around the thick length of Satoru's cock, pulling it free from the confines of his trousers. It sprang out, heavy and veined, the head already glistening with precum—obviously bigger than Suguru's own, pulsing fervently in his grip. Suguru stroked it slowly at first, base to tip, his thumb swiping over the slit to spread the slick fluid, while Satoru captured his lips again in a deeper kiss, tongue mirroring the rhythm of Suguru's hand.
Satoru broke the kiss just long enough to yank Suguru's pants down fully, the fabric pooling at his ankles and trapping his feet. Their collars had been loosened earlier in the teasing—too immersed in the heat, both didn’t even notice when it happened—shirts unbuttoned at the top to expose necks and shoulders—perfect for what was to come. With Suguru's lower half bared, Satoru wrapped one hand around both their cocks, pressing them together in a tight frottage.
Satoru stroked them in tandem, his thumb twisting over the sensitive heads, teasing back the foreskins to expose the flushed tips. Precum leaked steadily, making everything slick and messy, the wet sounds of skin sliding echoing softly in the empty church. His other hand remained at Suguru's entrance, two fingers now pushing in slowly, stretching the tight ring of muscle with scissoring motions while continuing their kiss desperately. Suguru whimpered into Satoru’s mouth, his strokes on the vampire's cock faltering as pleasure coiled tight in his gut. The dual assault—frotting cocks and probing fingers—had him rocking his hips, chasing more friction, more depth, more pleasure.
“S-Satoru…”, Suguru breathed heavily, his voice wrecked and sultry as he locked eyes with the vampire, lashes heavy and dark against his flushed skin. “That's enough. I’m ready. You can put it in now”. Satoru smirked satisfied, fangs glinting in the low light and pulled his hand away from their lubricated cocks. He licked his upper lip before gripping the base of his own erection, lining up the blunt head against Suguru's prepared entrance.
With a slow, mischief push, he breached the ring, sinking in inch by inch until he was fully sheathed, the stretch burning sweetly for Suguru, “HA. Satoru…”. Then, he fucked him—hard and deep, hips snapping forward in a rhythm that shook the altar slightly. Ecstasy ripped through them both. Suguru's moans filled the air, high and needy, mingling with Satoru’s deeper groans as they chased release. “Satoru... AH! Satoru!”, Suguru whimpered, his legs wrapping around Satoru’s waist, pulling him closer.
Their lips met again and again, kisses sloppy and desperate, teeth nipping at swollen mouths. Satoru’s pace was uninterrupted, cock dragging over that spot inside Suguru that made stars burst behind his eyes. “You love it, Suguru? Are you feeling good? Tell me you love it, Suguru”, the vampire sought the priest’s approval as he always did. And every time, the same answer was given, “I love it Satoru. I’m feeling good from your touch. Don’t stop… Keep going”. And Satoru would continue fucking Suguru harder in desperation bordering on devotion while calling out his beloved priest’s name.
Occasionally, Satoru would dip his head, fangs sinking into the pale column of Suguru's neck or the curve of his shoulder where the collar gaped open. The bite drew blood—warm and coppery— and Satoru lapped at it greedily, sucking the vitae into his mouth. The aphrodisiac effect from the bloodsucking hit them like a wave; Suguru's body ignited, every nerve ending alight with insatiable appetence, his hole clenching greedily in continuous tempo around Satoru’s thrusting cock.
Satoru growled against the seduction, his own arousal spiking, thrusts turning wilder, more animalistic. Suguru's hands clung to Satoru’s neck, fingers threading through the striking white hair as he anchored himself. In retaliation—or maybe desperation—he bit down on Satoru’s shoulder, teeth marking the skin through the open collar, tasting salt and the faint tang of immortality. The pain only spurred Satoru on, his hips ramming into Suguru’s tight hole faster, the slap of flesh on flesh licentious in the holy space.
As Suguru's hole tightened, pleasure bordering on overwhelm, a broken prayer slipped from his lips, eyes watering, “Kyrie eleison… Domine, miserere mei… Look not upon my sin but upon Your servant’s weakness. I profane what is holy…yet my heart will not lie before You. Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa… Forgive me my Lord… I love him… You know I love him… I love Satoru so much…”, the words were gasped between moans, raw and defenceless. Satoru savoured every word, his cock swelling impossibly thicker inside Suguru at the confession. He thrusted harder, deeper, grinding against that prostate with every plunge, the corner of his lips curved into a victorious smirk. “I love you too, Suguru. I love you so so much”, he rasped, voice thick with love and lust, sealing the words with another bite to the neck, drawing more blood that amplified their prurience, thrusting faster inside Suguru, chasing release.
They finally came together in a shattering climax. Suguru's release hit first, untouched—his cock spurting ropes of white across Satoru’s shirt, soaking the fabric as his hole spasmed uncontrollably around the monstrous length. Satoru followed seconds later, burying himself to the hilt and flooding Suguru's insides with hot, thick spurts of cum, filling him to the brim until it leaked out around Suguru’s ring.
They stayed glued like that, panting and trembling, Satoru’s forehead resting against Suguru's as their bodies cooled in the aftermath. Bodies drenched in sweat, hair splayed across foreheads, pants still down around ankles, shirts dishevelled with collars open and marked with bites—the evidence of their passion stark against the altar. After a moment that felt too long of nothing but their heavy breathing, Suguru lifted his head, violet eyes soft and sated, “Should we clean up here and continue in my room?”. Satoru smirked, canines peeking as he nuzzled Suguru's jaw. “Of course~ The night is still long, Suguru. I’m not stopping any time soon even if you begged later~”.