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“Come on, dear, let your voice be heard.”
“N-no.”
“Am I not making you feel good?”
“F-fuck you, Angleterre.”
“Nonsense, you are the one being fucked here, love.” The Brit laughed as he increased the speed of his thrusts inside the Frenchman.
Francis moaned before biting on his lip to stop the sounds from coming out.
To think all Francis had wanted was for him and the Brit to have a quiet moment in prayer. Arthur rolled his eyes as he thought back to it.
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“Arthur, come on, it’s been so long since you went. One or two hours of praying and quiet contemplation isn’t going to kill you.” Francis had said.
Arthur had glared, “You know that stuff isn’t for me Francis.”
“Nonsense, it will be good for you.”
“No,” he had just muttered and Francis pouted,
“We can go eat something sweet afterwards, have a nice dessert, who knows maybe you will have a religious experience!”
Arthur had raised an eyebrow, “you’re paying?”
“Yes, yes, now come!”
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Having arrived at the church, Francis was surprised to find that it was just the two of them.
Arthur had tried to argue that there must have been something wrong and that this was the reason there wasn’t anyone and that they might as well go home and come back another time, but Francis had just shook his head and moved to the first row to find a good spot to get started.
While it was far from a religious experience, watching Francis drop to his knees with his hair falling forward, covering his face, gave an impression to the Brit that might almost be considered as such.
The feelings of desire and lust that suddenly sky-rocketed inside him were far from holy.
Guess there was a point to coming here after all, Arthur thought to himself with a snort, as he moved towards the praying Frenchman like a predator would approach his prey.
“I’ve had a vision, Francis.” He started.
Francis had been shaken out of his prayer to look up to the Brit that suddenly stood in front of him.
“You have?” he said, full of wonder and for two three seconds Arthur felt like the evilest creature in the universe.
He nodded, “but I am not sure it is in line with your beliefs.”
Francis frowned, “oh, but I can be open minded.”
Arthur grinned as he moved a hand to Francis’ cheek, gliding down to his chin with a thumb resting on his lips.
“It was something about sowing my seed…” Arthur murmured, making up some lie of what he remembered reading in the scriptures so many decades ago.
Francis frowned, “Perhaps Mark 4:26, The kingdom of God is as if a man should scatter seed on the ground.” the Frenchman recited against Arthur’s thumb on his lips.
Arthur nodded, almost groaning at the surge of want going through his body.
“Arthur?” Francis narrowed his eyes.
“The kingdom of God is as if a man should scatter seed on the ground,” the Brit repeated, before continuing, “but I know a better place for my seed.”
Francis’ eyes widened as understanding dawned.
“You filthy perverted man!” he hissed out, glaring at the man in front of him.
Arthur tutted, “don’t make light of my religious experience, Francis, darling,”
“You’re a godless heathen.” the Frenchman continued.
Arthur rolled his eyes and decided to open his pants, pulling out his semi-erect cock.
Francis’ eyes widened and for two three seconds he was speechless, before, “What are you doing!”
Arthur grunted as he slowly started jerking his erection, before speaking up once more.
“Don’t you see? France? It’s fate. The reason we are all alone inside this church with no humans around.”
Francis frantically looked around the room to make sure the Brit was right; and maybe also to distract him from the tantalising sight in front of him.
“I…” he started, just to be interrupted by a loud moan from Arthur who had started speeding up his hand.
“What is it going to be, Francis? Will you help me in sowing my seed, or are you going to let me defile the floor of this sacred place.” Arthur laughed breathlessly.
“You wouldn’t dare.” the Frenchman hissed.
“Francis, love of my life, I’m jerking off inside of a church, of course I would dare.” Arthur grinned down at the Frenchman still kneeling in front of him.
The Frenchman didn’t know what to say, mouth opening and closing, before suddenly coming to a decision. He raised his face towards the sky and made the sign of the cross before turning back towards Arthur with determination.
“Ah, yes, that’s it,” Arthur hissed out as Francis pulled him closer and put his mouth on top of his dick.
The sight of Francis on his knees, sucking him off in one of the houses of God was something Arthur was going to treasure for decades if not centuries.
“That’s it, such a good pet for me,” Arthur praised, moving his hands through Francis’ hair and slightly pulling, which he knew was something that made the Frenchman weak.
Francis closed his eyes and whimpered.
“You’re doing so well, Francis. I’m close.”
The Frenchman opened his eyes again and sped up his movements, moving his hands behind the Brit to pull him closer.
“Woah,” Arthur grinned, enjoying being manhandled a bit.
Arthur was nearing the edge however and he briefly debated pulling out to come all over that beautiful angelic face, but then he decided against it considering Francis was already going to be annoyed with him.
“I’m going to come.” he warned once more, before pulling Francis’ head closer to his crotch and releasing down the man’s throat with a groan.
Francis closed his eyes and swallowed it all.
“A- bloody -men” Arthur sighed, satisfied as he pulled his cock out of the Frenchman’s mouth with a pop.
“I hope you are satisfied now?” Francis muttered, voice significantly hoarser than before their activities.
Arthur turned back towards him and took in the sight of the dishevelled Frenchman.
He truly did look like a defiled angel.
The hunger inside him came back and he felt his cock twitch.
Francis’ eyes widened as he noticed.
“Guess I’m not satisfied.” He grinned, “God wants me to sow some more seed it seems.”
“This has nothing to do with God.” Francis glared.
“How would you know?” Arthur shrugged, moving towards one of the side chambers trying to find something.
Francis started saying something but frowned as he watched the Englishman move around the church, erection still hanging out, he sighed, turning to the statue of jesus.
“Forgive me lord, for I have sinned…” he muttered.
Suddenly there was a loud, “Aha!” from one of the side rooms as Arthur came back towards where Francis was praying, with in his hands a tiny jar of something.
Francis tried to ignore his lover when Arthur came to stand right in front of him, dick making a shadow on his face.
“Yes?” Francis asked, without moving his eyes up.
“Where do you want to get fucked?”
Now that’s something he had not expected to hear but as he met emerald eyes he couldn’t say he was surprised either.
“Haven’t we desecrated this place enough?” Francis glared.
Arthur looked around and shrugged, “It’s not about desecrating, Francis. Consider this..” and the man crossed his arms behind his back, taking up an intellectual pose. Ruined by the fact his dick was still exposed, swaying in a hard-to-ignore way.
“Aren’t we all the best of God’s creations?” the Brit asked.
“Yes.” Francis said, unsure where his lover was going with this.
“And aren’t God's creations perfect and without flaws?” Arthur continued.
“I guess.” Francis answered, frowning at the man in front of him.
“I would agree, and if not, Christ, his son,” and Arthur paused dramatically to point at the Jesus statue, hanging off a huge cross next to the Altar, “died for our sins and wrongdoings.”
“Your point?” Francis narrowed his eyes.
“I wish to thank God, for creating the most perfect creations by making love to one of them, under his watchful eyes.” Arthur finished, with a grin.
Francis was speechless.
“I- I… don’t know what to say.” Francis whispered.
The Brit laughed, leaning closer to Francis, “Francis, come on, it’s just us here.”
“Yeah but still.” Francis muttered, not completely put off by the idea, but also feeling like Arthur was full of shit.
“We don’t even have lubricant.” Francis tried, as last argument for why this was a bad idea.
Arthur just lifted the little jar he had found earlier and Francis cursed on the inside.
Arthur nipped at his neck, “I promise I’ll stay an hour longer to join in your prayers.”
Francis bit his lip, not wanting to make any noise of pleasure.
“F-fine.” Francis said, shivering as his lover’s heated gaze met his own.
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And that’s how the two of them ended up going at it on the church altar, Francis bent over with his hands grabbing the edge and Arthur thrusting into him from behind.
“You feel so, so, good, Francis.” Arthur whispered into his ear, before giving it a friendly nip.
Francis moaned, but quickly bit his lip to stop the sounds from coming out.
Arthur tsked, “That won’t do.”
With that he pulled out of the Frenchman and manhandled him to sit face to face with the Brit once more, with his arse at the edge of the Altar.
“Much better.” Arthur mused, as he kissed the Frenchman deeply, before moving to put his hard-on back in.
Francis gasped at the new angle and Arthur gave him a little bit of time to adjust.
“Are you ready?” he asked and Francis nodded against his neck.
Arthur groaned, starting to slowly thrust inside his lover.
“I love you, Francis.” he whispered, in between each thrust picking up the speed so that it became an increasingly fast mantra.
“Fuck, Arthur, fuck fuck fuck,” Francis muttered, feeling himself come closer to the edge.
“That’s it, darling,” Arthur grinned before an idea struck him.
“No wait, hold on just a bit longer.” he muttered, picking up the Frenchman by the thighs and pulling him tightly around him, dick impossibly deep as he lifted Francis off the altar.
Francis gasped, “Arthur!” as he tightened his legs around the man’s hips so as to not fall.
“Yes, yes,” he said nonchalantly as he walked 2-3 steps towards the giant wooden cross to press the Frenchman against it.
“Wha-” Francis started but was cut off as the Brit started frantically thrusting into him making him lose all rational thought.
Arthur moved one hand to jerk off his lover, ensuring that they would get over the edge together.
One or two more thrusts and his vision went white, somehow he knew he had shouted his lover’s name and heard his own from his lover’s mouth, but at that point there was too much feeling to focus on anything.
Finally he came back to himself and paid careful attention to not drop the Frenchman on the ground.
Francis’ legs wobbled a bit and he decided to sit on the ground anyway, leaning against the cross he had just been fucked against.
Arthur, somehow more romantic than people may expect him to be, decided to join his lover asking him if he was alright with a soft kiss to the neck.
“Why the last change of position?” Francis suddenly asked, disrupting the comfortable silence between them.
Arthur snorted, hesitating to tell the Frenchman because he wasn’t exactly sure how the man would react.
“Uhm…” he started.
Francis turned to him with a frown.
“Because now you can tell people that you have been nailed to the cross.”
A not quite awkward silence between the two off them.
“I want a divorce.”
“We’re not even married!”
“Still…"
Another minute of silence.
“Admit it, it was a little funny, no?”
“... yes. I don’t know why I love you.”
“Because no one would nail you to the cross better than I.”
“Yeah, I want a divorce.”
“Francis, no!”
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Fin.