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On occasion, Jud wondered which had been the thing that led him to serve. Was he moulded to fit the title, or was he destined to give himself over to others, to God?
Was servitude his fate or had he been shaped to comply with it?
His father had liked to beat him when he was drunk. His mother took to it if Jud disobeyed one of her many unspoken rules. He was used to being beat into submission, and listening to his mother admit to it through wails in the confessional after Sunday mass. She begged for forgiveness, and the priest would grant it.
“Salvation is with you through Christ, His Son. Five Hail Marys and one Glory Be.”
Time and time again he said it, week after week, the words pounding in Jud’s head from where he had sat at his mother’s feet in that confessional, holding onto her good Sunday skirt in silence. He would waive the Father good-bye once they had stepped out, the man looking at him with a smile so kind Jud could not find it in himself to be angry. Despite it all the old man had always been more kind to him than his own father, and Jud admired him for it. After all, he tended to so many more children, young and old.
They would come home, and he would watch his mother pray on her knees, kneeling in front of the cross in their living room, her rosary clutched between her hands. She looked beautiful to him then, the afternoon sun shining so gently upon her through their old beige curtains. If Jud didn’t finish his dinner in the evening because he was afraid of his father coming home and screaming because there had not been enough food put aside for him (there never seemed to be enough food in their apartment), his mother would slap him for being ungrateful. She would wail about it the next Sunday to come. And God would pardon her, so who was he to hold it against her?
By now Jud knew that his upbringing had not been right in many ways, but he had never harboured anger in his heart for his parents.
“Honor your father and mother—which is the first commandment with a promise—so that it may go well with you and that you may enjoy long life on the earth.” – Ephesians 6:2-3
In many ways, he was grateful to them. He took to boxing with ease, his father encouraging him every day that he had stepped into the ring, and he took to priesthood with similarly, his mother oozing with pride more than ever. Being a good listener was perhaps the best thing he had learned in that screaming apartment. Those were the aspects of his life that he attributed to them with quiet appreciation.
There were many things he would never be able to share with his parents. His sexuality, no matter how technically irrelevant it should have been now, more than ever. His doubts regarding the way they chose to raise him, his feelings of solitude, the details of the murders at his church, Benoit Blanc, the tattoos he had been hiding from them since he was a teenager, the ones that were worse than a flower he could pass off as a drunken mistake and be forgiven for after a relatively light beating. He could never let them know that he acted out as a teenager so they would focus their anger on him instead of his little sister.
He could only ever tell God that he felt a kind-of sick satisfaction because his teenage antics had worked.
“It was a triumph over them. Nothing wrong with feeling proud of that.”
Benoit had poured himself a scotch, lounging on one of the chairs in front of the fireplace. Jud hadn’t really changed any of the interior of the office, or the house in general. He had a feeling Martha wouldn’t approve of it, and besides, she had good taste. It all felt homey, without Wick’s looming presence or the promise of more corpses dropping out of thin air. Unless God found himself in a particular kind-of mood, of course.
Jud himself was sitting on the couch, hands clasped in his lap like so often, looking at the detective with a small smile.
“Yeah, I guess. I don’t think they ever hit Leah, and now she’s grown and moved out, so all’s well.”
He agrees with Benoit without feeling guilt for his vanity, leaning back with a sigh. He almost felt a bit worried. Everything felt normal, felt like it was right back to the way it used to be between them. Easy comradery, easier conversation, a quiet friendship born from circumstance and mutual understanding of one another. Almost like he had never begged the man to fuck him and been denied, like he didn’t know what Benoit’s cock felt like down his throat and could not ever hope to forget. And like Jud wasn’t visibly struggling to hold back on his aching desire for over a month now.
Surely, Benoit knew. He was a genius detective, perhaps more skilled at reading people than even a crime scene itself. Jud had been shifting, fidgeting, staring, sometimes he even found himself biting his lip in deep thought while he was thinking about the man, or staring at him, even though he had thought he kicked the habit long ago. It wasn’t the only old pattern Benoit brought into his life. No, desire itself seemed to enter the room whenever Benoit was present, and desire was a bad habit for Jud to keep around. He was so very weak to its call. For Benoit, all this must be clearly written over every facet of Jud’s being.
Praying over the matter hadn’t helped to put out this desire. Asking for guidance had been answered by nothing but Benoit consistently texting him about mundane things, such as his musings to get a pet or his frustrations with Cy’s consistent social media campaign against them. Jud always texted back of course, and as a result, Benoit had taken time out of his (most likely) busy schedule to come see him at his church once more. He tried not to feel special for it. For all he knew, Benoit liked to keep in touch with all the people he helped before him. Maybe he also got all of them on their knees begging for more.
Jud shifted a little where he was seated, staring at the detective, who was looking at him with nothing but kindness in his eyes. A considerable feat, with how ice cold they could look most of the time. Still, their colour didn’t stand a chance against the amount of grace present in all of Benoit, really. When he had first laid his eyes upon him in that church Jud had considered him an angel sent from heaven for a brief moment. That notion had left him soon after, or so he thought. Truthfully, he couldn’t be so sure anymore.
He didn’t know how long they had sat there, quietly looking at each other. Benoit hadn’t touched his drink yet, far as he could tell. Jud couldn’t be sure he would be able to tell, starstruck as he was. Just how the man in front still had that effect on him, he couldn’t be sure. Perhaps it was magic, the good kind.
“All is well indeed. Is that what’s troubling you? Family matters? Old memories?” Benoit asked, finally, and Jud almost let out a sigh of relief. If the silence had prevailed any longer, he might’ve just gotten down on his knees and begged all over again. Not that he didn’t picture himself ending up there as the night progressed either way. Still, the questions felt like a punch. Of course, he had just been trying to fill the silence. How exactly they had ended up there, he could not say.
“No, no. It’s uh- what happened- the last time.” He was proud for only barely fumbling over his words. His hands had found their way back together in his lap, where he was rubbing his thumbs over his own skin in a soothing motion, trying to quell his feelings of anticipation. Benoit noticed, of course he did, his eyes following the movement with what Jud desperately told himself was not interest.
“Yeah, yeah. I can imagine.” Benoit mocked, though the smile on his face made it hard for Jud to be offended. If anything, the mild humiliation that swirled through his stomach did so in a pleasant way, his body once again shifting on the couch as if trying to escape, or soothe itself. He was grateful he hadn’t found any new staff for the church yet. No fear of interruption necessary. Though, with all that Jud had to content with about himself recently, he might have liked that, too.
He chuckled, then just shrugged his shoulders. “It’s not- troubled, exactly, though. I’m sure God understands.” Surprise, clear as day, appeared in Benoit’s face. The detective leaned forward in his chair, like Jud had just once again piqued his interest. It felt good, so unbelievably good to get a reaction like that from this much older man. Even if he wasn’t exactly sure God understood. “I am- a little confused about you. You uh- left in a bit of a hurry last time. And haven’t mentioned it since.” Jud tilted his head, still smiling at the detective, whose entire attention laid solely with him. He seemed to drink up all of his words like they were communion wine he was passing out. “But you did promise me a next time, did you not?”
It was Benoit’s turn to laugh, his shoulders shaking in little tremors with it. His hand hid his smile from Jud, as if the priest had genuinely managed to fluster the guy. In the low light he could still see the faint blush on his cheeks. The warm feeling in Jud’s stomach spread, and he watched Benoit let a hand wander through his own hair, as if fixing it one last time before he got up.
“I’m here now, aren’t I? Did I take too long?” He was approaching Jud with all of that casual elegance he had come to expect of the detective. He was wearing a suit, as he always did, this one a muted beige. Somehow, they never looked as dull on Benoit as they did on anyone else. Jud had to arch his neck to look up at the other where he came to stand in front of him. He pressed Jud’s legs apart with casual confidence, knowing exactly that the younger man would comply for him. And comply he did, his hands settling on his knees so Benoit could comfortably take just one more step between them. Jud wanted him as close as he could possibly get him. He pressed his cheek against the man’s thigh, a soft sigh escaping him as he felt his body relax.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. But they requested me for a case up north.” Benoit’s hand settled on Jud’s cheek, cupping it with a tenderness he hadn’t felt in years. He leaned into that, too, of course he did, though he didn’t take his eyes off of Benoit’s face, smiling softly. “And it took you a whole month?” He asked, the disbelief in his voice palpable. Jud would feel whiny, too needy, but Benoit was holding his head where he wanted it, his grip so perfectly calm and sure Jud felt as if his very soul was anchored into place, leaning against his thigh.
The detective laughed, not even bashful. He never seemed to be. “No, no it didn’t. There was another one, a state over. And then I visited home for a couple of days to see to my mother’s grave. It was her birthday.”
Jud hummed, pressing a gentle kiss into Benoit’s hand. He tried his best to stay present, to fight the way everything seemed to become soft around him. But it was hard, Benoit’s other hand slowly moving through his hair, petting him. He had a feeling the detective could tell, with the way he gently clicked his tongue, pulling Jud’s hair a little tighter for a split second.
“Now, now. Stay with me for a moment, boy. Did you prepare?”
Jud smiled, just a little. One of his hands moved, gripping the back of Benoit’s thigh and pushing his leg forward until the other man was forced to place his knee down on the couch, pressed flush against Jud’s middle. He let out a quiet, satisfied groan as he looked up at the detective with a tiny sparkle in his eyes. “You worry too much, Sir. Don’t you trust me?” A hard ask of anyone, but they shared two secrets between them now. Trust was expected, not in God, but each other. Jud groaned as he slowly rolled his hips to gain more friction against his cock, his head falling back to lean on the couch behind him. Suddenly, Benoit’s face was a whole lot closer to him, leaning over. He couldn’t help his satisfaction at the sight of the other mans parted lips and harsh breathing, the way those cold blue eyes traced over his body with pure hunger in them.
“Oh,” Benoit’s voice was soft, and seemed impossibly deeper, “I see. Of course I do, perfect boy.”
Benoit hadn’t touched him the last time they had done this, hadn’t needed to. Now, Jud felt his spine slowly burn with the slow, molten creep of desire coursing through his body, taking over. Perfect.
Before he could slip away entirely, there was another firm tug in his hair, forcing Jud to look back up at his detective. He hadn’t realized he ever looked away, but his eyelids did feel heavy.
“Stay with me Pet.” Something Jud couldn’t describe settled in his stomach, heavy and firm. He felt as though time stopped briefly, and with it, his breathing. “Pet?” He asked, because it was the only thing left in his head he could think of. He was slipping away again, his voice sounding faint. The knee pressing against him was providing more stimulation than he had felt in years, and it wasn’t even moving. Neither were his hips, not anymore. He needed to be perfect. The endearment didn’t help, curling around his heart, his throat, and gripping tight, telling him to listen. “That’s new.”
“Do you like it?” Benoit’s voice had taken on a softer tone again, his thumb stroking over Jud’s cheek in a nearly hypnotically regular motion. He didn’t reply in any real way, humming softly as he rolled his hip into Benoit’s knee slowly, a pleased sigh escaping his lips as he did so. It felt good, and he was aching.
So, when Benoit pulled his knee away, Jud never stood a chance to fight the whiny, petulant sound that escaped him. He didn’t understand it, and for a moment, his hips jerked up into thin air.
He didn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed.
“C’mon pet, don’t want me to fuck you on this old thing, do you?” Benoit had the audacity to ask as he pulled Jud up from the couch, his hands settling on the others waist. Despite their difference in height, Jud felt small in front of the detective. This man, who turned him around with ease to calmly steer him towards his room, made him feel small with nothing but his gentle dominance and kind smile. Jud basked in it, felt an addictive pull towards it. In some ways, it reminded him of the priest in his childhood. Truthfully, Jud wouldn’t have cared where the man chose to have him, so long as he did. He almost said as much, but chose to stay silent. If Benoit wanted him to speak, he would tell him to.
When they arrived in the small room, everything looked the same as it did four months ago. Perhaps Jud just wasn’t that big on decorating. Not that he had much to decorate anything with. Benoit didn’t comment on it, so he didn’t feel embarrassed for it. He just let himself be quietly guided towards the bed, sitting down when he was nudged to do so. He was good at doing as he was told.
As he was sitting down, Benoit had started to undo the buttons on his suit, stripping the jacket and carefully folding it over a chair standing in a corner, already home to three of Jud’s own shirts. He then calmly, methodically, undid the buttons of his cuffs before pulling the sleeves above his elbows. The display was nearly enough to break Jud, and Benoit smiled at him like he knew. He probably did.
“Now then, what do you wish to do today, pet?” The detective asked as he approached the bed, placing himself where he seemed to be most comfortable again. In front of Jud, where he could observe each and every emotion on his face with such ease. The answer was certainly obvious to the ordained servant of God.
“Serve, Sir- I want to serve.” He breathed the words, looking up at Benoit’s face again, knowing his pupils must be blown, the tremble in his hands so obvious, the reverence in his tone hard to miss. He didn’t care. If it was for the man in front of him, flailing himself open seemed to be an act of devotion that came as easy as breathing.
The words seemed to intrigue Benoit, who raised an eyebrow before smiling softly at him, nodding his head. “Alright then. Undress for me.” Jud moved to comply before the other had even finished speaking, his sweater carelessly thrown to the floor along with his pants within less than a minute. He had taken his collar off hours ago, knowing that tonight he would be looking to be held down by another type of brand entirely. God loved him guilty, didn’t he?
By the time Jud was spreading his legs for the detective, the man had only removed his belt, nothing else. Jud had a feeling Benoit would remain as covered as he was now for the remainder of the night, and the idea sent a pleasant thrill up his spine.
Despite the room being fully heated, he shivered from the exposure of his naked body. He had not given himself over to someone like this in a long time. Maybe he never had. Usually, there had been some undercurrent of shame present, looming over him like a guiding hand whenever he had let himself get into bed with someone. If they even made it into a bed at all.
There was no room for shame with the way Benoit was looking at him. Like Jud was a meal he had been starving for. No. Like Jud was something precious, something worthy to keep and treasure. No. Like there was not a man in front of Benoit, but the carnal sin of lust itself sent down, or up, to share this bed with him tonight. No. Benoit looked at him like he truly, genuinely wanted him, wanted him for exactly what he knew the priest was. And Benoit did know him, did he? Wholly, completely. He had seen Jud when he was merciful, understanding and kind, full of grace. He had seen Jud angry, spitting vitriol and fleeing like a wounded animal. He had known Jud was full of rage before he had seen him be devoted, and he had seen Jud give into desire and temptation.
And still, he wanted him. And still, he looked upon him with desire, with lust and affection intertwined in a complex net spun around them in the space they had built. In this space where no vows Jud had taken mattered, except the ones he made to the man in front of him. God loved him guilty, right?
He trembled with the realization of being wanted so completely. Somehow, he hadn’t considered that Benoit did long for him in his entirety too, perhaps because he had been wholly caught up in his own desires. And though it could be scary, and though he was no stranger to being desired to some extent and trembling with fear because of it, he felt comfortable. Secure. He didn’t know wanting could feel safe.
Benoit got between his legs, leaning over him with a smile so kind Jud couldn’t help but simply bask in it for a moment. Then, familiar fingers pressed against his mouth and Jud smiled at the man a little before obeying, welcoming them in. His detective didn’t use them quite the same way he did the last time, less exploring than he was looking to get them wet, rubbing them onto his tongue. It took Jud longer than he’d like to admit till he realized that he was allowed to move this time, his own hand wandering to grip the man’s wrist as he let his eyes flutter closed, his tongue wrapping around the digits as he began his worship.
He wasn’t allowed to continue for long before Benoit pulled away again. He had barely finished letting his tongue trace over the skin and taste as much of it as he could by the time it happened. He mourned the loss of the sensation, of feeling useful. Benoit most likely did not taste of much to anyone, but Jud felt himself revel in the familiar notes of him. Salt, lotion, leather.
One of his hands settled on Jud’s shoulder, pushing him back to lean against the headboard, his fingers moving down to slowly caress Jud’s cock. He shuddered with it, a soft whine escaping his lips and his eyes opened again to look at the detective, who still looked so awfully composed, not even his hair seeming the slightest bit out of place. He was being observed with more care than he could stomach, and he knew he must already look like a complete mess.
Jud opened the bedside table with shaky fingers, slowly placing his bottle of lube on the bed. It was barely used, and he didn’t know if that was a good thing. Benoit just hummed softly in recognition, his hand simply wrapping around Jud’s half hard cock. He wasn’t moving, barely even gripping. His hand was warm, and Jud was squirming beneath his gaze, feeling the warmth seep through his body, fighting against the cool air in the room. He was breathing heavily, struggling to meet Benoit’s gaze, suddenly feeling the need to hide from how much he wanted the other to do something with him, anything.
Jud had tried to make this not about him, about what he was craving, but now he could not hide from those desires as he looked at the other man. He wanted him carnally, he wanted to feel the pleasure he could give him and Jud didn’t care if he could give enough in return. He simply wanted.
He needed to hide from his own selfishness.
“Please,” his voice sounded weak and broken in his own ears, and he tried not to consider if it betrayed how much he needed this. “Please tell me what I can do for you.”
Benoit smiled at him, and Jud felt almost angry with him for being so calm. The detective knew exactly what Jud needed, most likely more than Jud himself. He started to feel his own skin itch with how much he needed the older man to give it to him.
“Just let me touch you, baby. You just look pretty for me, yes?” Jud whined softly, because no, that was not at all what he wanted. But Benoit hadn’t asked, he had told Jud, and so, he would comply. His body sagged back against the headboard, going lax as he looked at the detective, waiting. The older man looked pleased, and maybe that was enough. Maybe Jud could be enough by just taking it, whatever it was he was being given here.
Benoit uncapped the lube with one hand, before letting the cold liquid drip onto Jud’s cock. He felt his body jerk involuntarily, a near painful gasp escaping him, his left hand was digging into the sheets beneath him with force, twisting it in his hand, almost scared he would rip it. Benoit’s hand didn’t move from where it was firmly holding Jud’s cock, and he had the ridiculous thought that Benoit had collared him now, that he now owned Jud’s body the way God owned his soul. Ridiculously, he felt his dick twitch, and he couldn’t help the way his hips tried to buck, tried to give him friction. Benoit’s hand discarded the lube, settling instead on Jud’s hip, a firm grip holding him down. Another whine nearly made it out, and he felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes. He felt overwhelmed by the lack of sensation, with the way his cock was aching for more but wasn’t even fully hard.
Then, the detectives hand finally started to move, slowly stroking as he simply watched. Watched the way Jud’s chest began to fall and rise faster, how he couldn’t keep the soft whimpers in anymore, the way the flush on his cheeks spread towards his neck and chest, how his thighs tensed and spasmed, the way the rosary beads moved with his body, the cross on the edge of falling off of his stomach. The only time Benoit looked away was when Jud’s right hand reached out, gripping his bicep firmly between his fingers, and he did with an air of quiet amusement. As if this slow unravelling brought him the greatest pleasure, enticed him the same way a good theatre show might.
Jud wasn’t sure he was performing all that well, but Benoit’s fingers were covered in lube and he pulled his hand away from his cock only to slowly let his digits trace over the priest’s hole, and when the first one finally entered him, Jud threw his head back in relief even more so than pleasure. The neglect of his cock didn’t matter, only the feeling of the detective finally inside of him taking over his body.
“See? All you need to do is let me have you, pet. I thought you knew that by now.” As if to prove his own statement, Benoit suddenly sunk his second finger into his body, as if to show just how well he could satisfy Jud’s greed. A moan was ripped out of the priest’s body against his own plans, his core tensing up. Benoit’s hand, still on his waist, prevented him from moving, rocking down and chasing more, always more.
He had been watching the ceiling, trying to escape from those knowing eyes that were picking him apart piece by piece. When he looked at Benoit again, a small whimper escaped him as he watched the man gaze down to where their bodies were connected, the way his own hard cock was straining against his pants and the way Benoit simply didn’t seem to care as he looked at his own fingers, how they were moving in and out of Jud’s body so achingly slow.
“Christ.” Jud sounded broken now, his voice rough and raspy. The detective’s fingers crooked inside of him, and his grip on Jud’s waist couldn’t prevent the way they jerked, another moan punched out of Jud, uncontrolled and loud. He really wished Benoit would’ve stuffed his mouth with something before they did this.
There was a soft chuckle, before Benoit slowly spread his fingers as he started to move faster, and Jud felt hopeful that the older man had finally grown impatient. There was rhythm to how Benoit used his hands, but Jud found himself incapable of predicting it. His head had fallen back again, and he stopped to feel the ache in his legs as he kept them spread for Benoit, his thoughts getting lost among the steady stream of sensations and sounds of his own making. At some point, Benoit must have added more lube to his fingers, the slick sound of his hands moving growing more insistent.
When Benoit added a third finger, the priest barely felt the sting of it crawling through his thighs, and he had the vague idea that he would’ve liked if it hurt. Another time, maybe. The hope that Benoit had grown impatient died within him when he realized the detective was switching between two and three fingers penetrating him, and he simply surrendered to it.
He accepted that this pleasure was what Benoit wanted to give him. The slow, sweet burn of Benoit’s patience coursed through his body until Jud felt like he was floating away with it, the sounds he was making sounding far away to his own ears despite the fact that they must have been loud.
He didn’t know for how long Benoit did this to him. If he would have to guess, he might have had Jud laying there and simply taking it for over half an hour. All he knew was that he was aching, that he could feel his cock leaking with precum, and that he felt as though he was burning up after no time at all had passed (or maybe all of it. He couldn’t tell anymore.) The older man did not let him go flaccid, didn’t let him fully relax into the sensation, kept him riding on the edge of too much and not enough for so long that Jud couldn’t differentiate between the two at all anymore.
Then, the fingers pulled out. And although Benoit did it slowly, Jud felt the sudden loss shoot through his body like he had been hit. He whined, feeling more sensations than he had maybe ever before, yet also the sudden lack of anything at all made him feel empty within a sea of pure feeling. Vaguely, he registered Benoit’s voice speaking to him, calm and steady. Then, a hand settled on his chin, pulling his face forward, forcing his gaze to focus on the man in front of him with sudden clarity. The hand felt warm against his flushed skin, and dry. His waist was no longer being held in place, but he couldn’t find the strength to move it either way. Jud realized he was shivering, and that his cheeks felt wet, that Benoit was tracing over them in an attempt to dry his face, maybe. Or to soothe him.
“Well done pet, you were so patient for me. Thank you.” The words finally registered, and Jud couldn’t help the dopey smile taking over his face. He had done well; he had pleased the man. He hummed, leaning into the hand on his face once more, pressing a gentle kiss to Benoit’s wrist. It felt intimate, and it was funny to Jud that something so simple could reach his heart and squeeze around it after all they had done.
He didn’t bother to speak, had a feeling it wouldn’t go over well, had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to string a sentence together either way. Vaguely, he realized that Benoit had pulled his cock out of his trousers but hadn’t bothered to undress more than that. Jud looked at it with nothing but lust in his heart and felt drunk with it.
“Will you let me fuck you now, baby?” Benoit asked, and his voice sounded hoarse, rough. Like he had to control himself with conscious effort now. Jud couldn’t believe the man. “Please, fuck. Sir- please, please fuck me. Please, please, God, please just fucking-”
He was shut up with two fingers sliding into his mouth, pressing his head back against the wood of the headboard roughly, and Benoit’s calm eyes watching him. He moaned around the digits, feeling his spit trickle down his chin almost immediately. He vaguely realized that this had happened before, that he knew this. The familiarity of the motion felt grounding as he felt the head of Benoit’s cock press into him with ease. “Good boy, you beg so sweet. But I’ll give it to you without pleading.” The words washed over him with yet another wave of comfort, of stillness. He felt his body relax again as he focused on the flesh inside of his mouth, sucking on it with quiet submission. He didn’t need to plead. Benoit would give him what he wanted. He had done good. The silent truths settled his mind, let him feel the full weight of Benoits cock slowly sliding into his body with that same aching patience from before and they let him enjoy the feeling to its fullest.
The slow pace of it all didn’t bother Jud anymore as he moaned around the fingers in his mouth, his eyes fluttering closed in pleasure as he felt himself give his body over to the older man entirely, trusting that he would do all the right things with it. He had done nothing but treat Jud right so far after all, so he could not find a single reason to not give himself over to Benoit like this.
As Benoit settled fully inside of him, Jud had the vague image of the second circle running through his mind. In that moment, he understood why Dante described the circle to be one full of motion, why its very nature meant you would be swept up in eternal movement. The punishment was meant to mirror the sin, and Jud understood all at once that for him, lust itself meant giving in, letting himself be swept along and lose all control over his mortal body. He could feel himself be pulled in every direction and none at all at once, like the eternal wind was already carrying him along to a higher place. It was the greatest pleasure he had ever known.
He knew that he, too, was subjecting his reason to the rule of lust. He couldn’t find it within himself to care.
How could he? It felt so terribly good.
When Benoit started to move, Jud felt his eyes roll to the back of his skull, his left hand once again grabbing the sheets beneath him in a firm grip. He couldn’t help the long moan leaving his mouth, but he had stopped fighting the noise a long time ago either way. He would like to say it was because he knew there was nobody to hear them, but the truth was that he wouldn’t have cared even if there was. He felt as though his brain was moments away from simply leaking, no longer firm flesh but a liquid mass swimming around inside his head with no real purpose. He had no need for his brain and all the virtues it afforded him beyond sensation itself while Benoit was fucking him like this.
Slow, caring, almost reverent in the way he touched him. If he had more capacity for thought, Jud would have wished Benoit fucked him like he didn’t care. Hard, rough, with no mercy nor regard for the younger man’s pleasure. It was the way Jud had known sex to be like with men like Benoit, and the way he thought he enjoyed it. But in this slow, sweet, sticky space that tasted like honey in the back of his throat Jud almost wanted to laugh at the notion that any men he had been with before were good at sex, or dominance, or that Benoit was anything like them at all.
They could never compare to the way Benoit managed to make him feel larger than life itself beneath him. The best part was that it did not matter how grand or perfect Jud seemed to be in this space, he was still held down firmly by Benoit’s calm hands all over his body. No matter how much freedom the detective gave to Jud with a simple look, there were chains around his throat, holding him in place for Benoit to do with as he pleased. And yet, Jud had chosen these chains the same way he had chosen his collar and never felt constricted in them.
Benoit didn’t need violence to make Jud bend for him, and it was so painfully obvious in the way he was fucking him now. The priest could feel him deep in his guts, could feel the way he was being methodically broken open, until he could not do anything but moan around the two free fingers in his mouth and take.
From a place far away, Jud realized he was crying again, his cheeks burning with it. Perhaps this was the true holy water, concentrated with nothing but pure pleasure, blessed by the simple fact that Jud had never felt closer to God than in this moment.
Surely, he would come away from this moment purified, reborn a better man beneath Benoit’s command. More than anything, Jud knew he would never be the same after this, and that he never wanted to be the man that did not know of ecstasy like this again.
“You- you’re perfect- fuck, please, please make me cum, shape me, take me, please-”
He didn’t really know what he was praying for with his mouth, only knew that Benoit had removed his fingers from it at some point and that he could speak again, the words falling out of his mouth before he even realized he knew how to make any noise aside from moaning at all. If Benoit replied anything to his mindless babbling, Jud couldn’t hear it over the blood rushing in his ears, over the sound of his own voice nearly screaming when suddenly, Benoit’s steady rhythm grew faster, overwhelming him with the sudden onslaught of increased pleasure. Surely he must have been sobbing then, but Jud couldn’t be sure. He did not feel anything aside from what Benoit gave him, there existed nothing but whatever space they shared.
Jud didn’t notice his orgasm until he could hear Benoit speak directly into his ear when he leaned over him. “Fuck- such a good pet, look so pretty when you cum, baby.” Only then did he realize his body was shaking again, that his stomach was covered in something sticky, that he could feel his body jerk just a little bit over and over again with every time Benoit thrusted into him still. The realization that the detective hadn’t stopped and didn’t seem to be planning on doing so caused Jud to let out a sound closer to a wail than a moan. Slowly, he reached his arms up to rest on Benoit’s back, his fists clenching in the fabric, as if he was holding on for dear life. In many ways, he was.
The overstimulation felt good. Jud could feel his cock twitch in a valiant effort to cum again, the heat in his core not subsiding yet as Benoit kept fucking him through it. He had no idea if the detective was close yet or not, his head buried in the man’s neck as he was simply determined to take whatever it was that the other man was giving him. “Please, please give it to me. Mark me. Please, need you to own me.” He was whining in the other man’s ear, his desperation so obvious even he could recognize it in that moment. He realized he would’ve accepted all of Benoit even if it had hurt, would’ve welcomed it just the same.
Apparently, his desperation was the last thing Benoit had needed to tip over the edge, his hips slowing down as he slowly pumped Jud full of his cum. Jud felt his own cock twitch one last time at the thought of getting knocked up by the older man, his body going completely lax again, his breathing erratic and fast.
He felt a hand slowly stroke through his hair, wet from sweat, slowly scratching his scalp as Jud’s breathing started to slowly even out along with Benoit’s own. Then, he felt soft lips press gentle kisses into his throat and shoulder, causing a soft giggle to escape him. He felt more relaxed than he had in years, despite the familiar ache slowly spreading throughout his lower back. The pain hardly mattered in his blissed-out state, felt more like a reward than a consequence.
“You did so well baby. Gonna get you some towels, yes?” Benoit’s voice sounded soft, affectionate in the small room, and in Jud’s personal opinion, not nearly exhausted enough. The thought made him giggle all over again and it was clear he was still riding the high of what had been the best sex of his life. Jud wouldn’t be lying if he called it a religious experience. The soft giggles shaking his body seemed to be enough to make Benoit feel confident in his decision to briefly leave the room, soon returning with a moist towel in his hand. To Jud, time didn’t seem of any importance as he was laying in his bed and looking at the cross on his wall with a soft smile.
“Well, I must apologize in advance. It seems this house is decidedly lacking in soft towels, so.” Benoit explained calmly as he kneeled between Jud’s legs again, the priest eagerly spreading them for him once more. “It’s fine, I use them every day. I like them now.” Jud replies with a soft grin, letting Benoit grab one of his legs to gently place over his own shoulder as he started to gently clean Jud’s thighs and ass. The detective simply hummed in quiet recognition of the statement, but didn’t comment beyond that, focusing on the ask in front of him.
It felt nice. Deeply intimate and caring, Benoit still being so awfully caring with him. Jud simply zoned out again, got lost looking at the man in front of him, observing his face with careful affection and only wincing a little bit when Benoit cleaned both his ass and cock thoroughly, because no matter how gentle the man was being, Jud was sensitive. When Jud voiced as much, they simply both shared a little chuckle about it.
Benoit cleaned both his stomach and the rosary, which had caught some of the ropes of cum, with the same gentle care, and something about it made Jud ache all over. Then, with the last clean corners of the towel, he gently wiped Jud’s face.
After Benoit was finished, he carefully removed his own clothes, smiling at Jud when he let out a small, confused noise.
“You won’t mind if I stay, will you?” The smile on the detective’s face turned teasing, and Jud felt his own cheeks heat up. “No! I mean- no, of course not.” He replied quickly, scooting closer towards the wall to make space for Benoit in the small bed.
When the other settled in next to him, they were both turned onto their sides, looking at each other in the low light of the room. Benoit’s hand settled around Jud’s waist, pulling him closer with a kind-of confident ease that Jud was sure came only with age, and he easily went into his arms.
When their lips connected, Jud realized for the first time how much he had missed this.
Next time, he vowed to himself, he would kiss Benoit as soon as they were alone. There would be another time, Jud was sure of it. He could not deny himself this, not if the detective wasn’t denying him either, and he would look forward to it. He would long for it, and he would be rewarded for his patience.
He would be good. He would serve.