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There were approximately 114 Catholic churches in Los Angeles, and one of them, Mary Mirror of Justice, was led by Father Miles Edgeworth. At 27 years old, he had only been ordained for 2 years, so he was still considered a greenhorn by many in the archdiocese.
However, he was committed to making his community stronger, and reforming a good name for the church by hosting numerous community events. Primarily, support groups. He had youth groups, various support groups, and what he called a “guilt free supply swap”, where people donated and took various goods at no cost.
The pressure to maintain a good social standing, and stay squeaky clean was important to him, as he was well aware of the…history…of the Catholic church. That being said, he had grown to be fairly popular in the community, bringing in a considerable number of parishoners to the church, rekindling those dwindling numbers.
He was also aware that many of the younger crowd came to the church because of him. At 27, he was a fit, attractive man, and he was aware of that fact. However, it would always leave a sour taste in his mouth when the throng of 21 year old college girls fawned over him instead of reciting from their hymnals.
Which brought him to what he considered to be the bane of his religious experience.
The fact that he was very much unapologetically, unavoidably gay.
Being gay in Los Angeles was not a life ruining aspect of someone’s life. Being gay was not even the worst thing in the church anymore (At least in most of the city’s parishes.) but what he knew would ruin his entire life would be if he was found out to be a PRIEST while being gay.
He couldn’t imagine the allegations, being accused of likely grooming children, plus having to move across the country so that no one could recognize his face. Or so he thought.
So it was a surprise to him, when one night, during his weekly “Pillars of Strength” men's support group, there were a few regulars, a couple new faces, but there was one that stood out from the crowd; one that tempted him to throw away everything.
Sitting in the circle between Ronnie, the man who was recovering from a petty theft habit, and David, a man who was a habitual liar, sat a man who looked not only incredibly uncomfortable, but nervous as well.
This new man had a grey hoodie on, sweatpants and a teal touque on. This intrigued Miles as most of the new people who joined at least took off their hats inside. He briefly wondered if this was a sign of trouble to come.
“Alright folks, welcome to Pillars of Strength. Some of you already know the agenda, but to those who are new, I will ask everyone to introduce themselves, let us know a bit about why you’re here, and by the end of the discussion group, we’ll set you up with an accountable partner so that next week, you can check in and discuss how your partner helped you through your issues.”
He started the discussion off clockwise, committing people’s names and faces to memory as best as he could.
“Hi, my name’s Josh. I’ve been fighting with my mom a lot, she wants me to move out and she thinks I’m lazy. But the thing is, she has a lot of physical issues and I just feel so guilty, but all my girlfriends have broken up with me because they think I’m too attached to my mom.”
“I…I’m Marty, and I’m a single father but I’m having a hard time thinking that my kid is my favourite human being. I love her, but every time I look at her, I see her mother’s face and it makes me angry. I don’t know where to go, or what to do since her mother’s a deadbeat loser and I’m kind of just stuck here.”
“I’m Andrew, and I was diagnosed with…a chronic disease…recently, and I’m alone and terrified about my next steps.”
His heart honestly ached for each member of his flock, their stories all situations that Miles felt personally fortunate to never have experienced. However, while he was taking notes, for Marty to join a single father’s support group, and Andrew to join his chronic illness group, he almost hadn’t noticed that the touque wearing man was next.
He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his head in nervous energy.
“Uhh, hi. I’m Phoenix, but uh, I…I don’t know, I’m just kind of a wreck overall. I was fired from my job recently, and I have a kid now I guess. She’s adopted, so that kind of makes it easier, no…no custody or child support, or worrying about the mom, I guess. But it’s hard. I don’t…I don’t know what to do, I feel like everyone else’s problems are way bigger than mine. Sorry.” He muttered, and Miles felt the rare need to interject.
“Phoenix, no one's issues are worse than anyone else's. Some people's struggles may seem, in comparison, larger or smaller than others, but to that individual person, that’s their life. You aren’t more or less important than anyone else, and your issues matter.” Miles said earnestly, his gaze piercing at Phoenix as he squirmed at his words.
The circle finished introducing themselves, and then Miles addressed them from the religious aspect. However, instead of the stereotypical announcement of titling these issues as ‘tests from God’ or ‘trusting in God can help you overcome all obstacles’; he instead read some passages to evoke comfort, and to share stories of other people’s hardships in the Bible.
But even that was a very brief aspect, meant to show that people have survived for thousands of years through hard times, and as a species, we will continue to thrive, through community strength.
As such, he asked for volunteers to share “action plans” where the whole group brainstormed next steps for folks who were open and willing to share more intimate details of their struggle.
In the hour and a half session, they got through four volunteers, and then paired everyone up with a partner for the next week’s session. This also gave those who did not share in the group a chance to discuss their issues. (Truthfully though, the accountability piece was to encourage folks to actually show up the next week.)
However, they had an odd number of volunteers, leaving Phoenix without a partner.
“Phoenix, I can be your partner, if you are amenable to it.” He offered quickly, with Phoenix nodding in a non-committal way. He was slightly concerned that Phoenix wouldn’t show up the next week, which would be a shame, because he felt himself growing fond of the man. In more ways than one.
“Uhh, yeah…sure.” Phoenix mumbled, tugging on the edge of his touque. Miles felt his heart ache at the thought of Phoenix not taking the action plan seriously, so he planned on talking to him briefly after the group ended.
As he wrapped it up, he noticed, with a slight twinge of relief, that Phoenix was dawdling behind the group when it came time to pack up and go home. He briefly wondered if Phoenix was waiting for him too.
There were only two people left, refilling their styrofoam coffee cups before leaving, when Phoenix rose and walked up to Father Edgeworth.
“Hey, uhh, thanks for the group. I just wanted to be clear on what you wanted from me for next week.” He said, voice low, and Miles felt his heartbeat quicken somewhat. Fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeve, Miles nodded, beckoning Phoenix to sit back down.
“I want to know your goals, and how you’re going to take control of them. You mentioned that you lost your job, and that you have a daughter. What are your career goals?” Miles asked, holding his gaze at Phoenix’s face. Something that he had learned while doing his pastoral studies.
It was part intimidation, and part genuine interest. Completely psychological, as it helped people to be honest, since they felt that you were staring into their secrets.
“Oh, so kind of like…body doubling?” Phoenix asked, cocking his head, earning a surprised, but pleased noise from Miles.
“I’ve always liked that term. Yes, it’s pretty much exactly that, Phoenix. Accountability.” Miles hummed, noticing how Phoenix let out a sigh of…relief?
“Oh, okay, cool. I gotta be honest, this was a bit of a last ditch effort. I don’t…I haven’t really been in a church before.” Phoenix gave a small, nervous chuckle when he said it, but Miles seemed completely unfazed by the revelation.
“That’s perfectly fine. I do these groups to help people, no matter their religious denomination, if any.” Miles said, noticing the last of the group leave, leaving him and Phoenix alone in the room. It seemed to him that Phoenix hadn’t noticed this yet.
“Ahh, well I guess that’s it though. I just want to survive. I don’t want my daughter to think that she’s a burden, and I want to be able to look forward to the next day, not drink my way into forgetting it every night.” Phoenix shrugged, and Miles felt the incredible urge to pull him into a hug, to which he had refrained, but the desire was there.
“Do you have some extra time, Phoenix? I can help write down some affirmations and goals if you would like. I have no other duties for the day.” Miles chose the word duties to try to avoid hinting at the prospect of their meeting being anything but strictly professional.
Although, he feared somewhat that he was not being as subtle as he should be, given the small eyebrow raise that Phoenix sent him.
“Yeah, Truce is with the babysitter until late, so I got time.” Phoenix’s voice was lower than he expected it to be, surprising him, but to Phoenix, it didn’t look like Miles had noticed. If he had, he was truly a master at staying conspicuous.
***
They spent another half an hour working on a tangible plan for Phoenix to follow, with a checklist of things to work on to bring to the group next week.
Things like practising gratitude, positive reinforcement with Trucy, and rewarding himself with things in replacement for drinking. Gatekeeping rewards, as it were.
Throughout their time alone, every time that Father Edgeworth would speak, Phoenix began to feel the twinge inside of himself. This man was really putting himself out there, genuinely interested in what Phoenix had to say, but Phoenix had to remind himself that that was literally the man’s job.
He wasn’t special. He was just a guest in a church, where he didn’t belong, doing a task set for him to better his life. Not to ruin the life of a man sworn to serve the church.
But…the way that the priest would gently consider his words, grazing his fingers as they passed the pen back and forth. Careful guidance, softly spoken, brief flashes of proud smiles, it was almost overwhelming for Phoenix.
Knowing that the end of their interaction was drawing near; Phoenix grasped at straws to keep up hope of seeing him again.
“So, uh…aside from this group, what uh, what’s the church schedule?” Phoenix asked, wondering if he was coming across too obvious, but the look that Miles gave him was confusing.
“I do not wish to pressure you into joining our congregation, especially as you are not familiar with the Catholic teachings. However, you are always welcome to join our Sunday Mass. If you grow more comfortable with this, you may wish to observe a Lauds or Vespers service during the week.” Miles was slightly hesitant to give these suggestions, as he was far too familiar with the people who were either too eager to please, or who were desperate for forgiveness and attention.
Phoenix didn’t seem like either of those types of people, which meant that he was likely genuinely curious, but it was still best to be cautious.
The thing was, however, that he was trying to keep Phoenix at arm’s length because he found the man desperately attractive, but simultaneously trying to pull him closer, to grasp at him with desperate need.
Like most people who were in a state of authority, Miles had a bit of a need to be needed, as it were. It was his inherent saviour complex that guided him to helping people, but he felt something that he had never allowed himself to feel before.
And it was dangerous, and he knew it.
***
They parted for the night, as Miles’ heart beat slightly faster, and Phoenix felt a pooling heat inside of him.
It wasn’t as if he were some blushing virgin, either. Phoenix knew what he liked and what he wanted, and right now, what he wanted was to get railed by a man who committed himself to celibacy.
He knew that it was unfair, and he knew that he could get Father Edgeworth into an incredible amount of trouble if it was ever found out, but that’s where his fantasy ended. There was no way that a man of his calibre would be both gay, and willing to risk his career.
Walking back to his apartment that night, his plan in hand, he tried to make himself promise to not fuck this up for either of them.
***
Father Edgeworth had a problem.
That problem was a single father and recently disbarred attorney named Phoenix Wright.
He had already made up his mind, he knew that he wanted to bed the man, so long as the feeling was mutual, and when he saw the way that Phoenix’s eyes roved over his body, he had a hunch that he wasn’t wasting his efforts.
It had been many years since he allowed himself to consider the possibility of sleeping with someone else. Once he entered Seminary, however, he admitted to occasionally masturbating, but even that was extremely few and far between in sessions.
Tonight was one of those times.
Knuckles stuffed between his teeth, eyes closed, brow furrowed, as he desperately kept quiet while he stroked his cock with the thick guilt that only a Catholic could feel whilst in the throes of euphoria.
He had never felt this way about a member of his flock, and sure, some of that was due to the fact that the congregants who lusted over him were of the opposite sex.
But on the other hand, the men in his congregation were either far younger, or far older than him, and the ones that aligned with his age bracket were typically the fathers of said children and he just wasn’t keen on lusting over men who were in committed heterosexual relationships.
As he prayed that night, he hoped that he had gotten it all out of his system and that next week, he could carry on as he had sworn to.
***
Next week wasn’t his problem, as it turned out, as Phoenix decided to cause problems for the priest earlier than expected as he actually showed up to Mass that Sunday.
Interestingly, his daughter had been absent from his presence.
Seeing the man, clad in the familiar grey hoodie and teal touque, his stomach turned with cloying affection. He tried not to stare as he awkwardly looked around him at the congregation in their Sunday best.
Phoenix may have stood out like a sore thumb at the moment, but he was no where near the strangest person that Father Edgeworth had seen attending a Mass.
Like those, Miles was grateful that he was near the back, in a more observant position than trying to “fit in”, as it were.
As the priest led the mass, he was keeping an eye on the man who crept into his thoughts. He could not follow along with the hymnals, nor did he genuflect on cue with everyone else.
However, he did notice that, as a well trained dog, Phoenix’s gaze did not waver from the priest, which meant that his own eye contact had to be few and far between.
Miles delivered his sermon with practised precision, his passion seeping into his words as he watched his flock respond in all of the anticipated ways.
After the hour was up, he released the flock with his usual parting prayer.
“...bless us throughout the remainder of our day, and guide us safely home.” He watched as many people rose, some stayed in prayer, and others began to chat amongst themselves as they waited for the crowd to disperse.
Phoenix, however, stayed put. His gaze unfaltering, as Miles completed his routine, and headed to the confessional booth, knowing that eventually, Phoenix would follow.
And he was right. Eventually, Phoenix stumbled into the booth, with the unpracticed murmurings of someone who had never been inside of the confessional box before.
Smiling to himself, Miles waited until he could hear the awkward shuffling on the other side begin to die down, when he started.
“Is this your first confessional, my child?” Miles asked, even though he wasn’t supposed to know who was on the other side of the screen, he knew, and, out of mercy, wanted to throw Phoenix a bone.
“Er…yes. Ah, yes, Father.” Phoenix was attempting to not sound too awkward as he shuffled in his seat. Stifling a quiet chuckle, Miles gave a quick peak outside of the box, checking to see how many people were left in the building. He saw an elderly lady, Maria, he knew would still be there for an hour.
She had a lot of difficulties hearing, and now that his sign language interpreter had gone home with his family, he didn’t figure that she would be an issue. Taking a small breath, he shut the door again and leaned closer to the screen.
“Make the sign of the cross, my son.” Miles whispered, smirking when he heard Phoenix mutter the directions to himself and then saying he did it. Just like a child at their first few confessions.
“Now, repeat after me.” He said, waiting until Phoenix acknowledged him with a small ‘okay’.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” He waited for Phoenix to respond in kind, but was slightly surprised when he instead decided to get cocky.
“Isn’t it ‘Forgive me Father, for I have sinned’?” Miles cocked an eyebrow at Phoenix’s statement.
“I thought you were new to the Catholic church.” Miles replied, his heart rate increasing once again. They were headed into dangerous territory with their almost-flirting, and he knew it.
“Yeah well…I’ve seen enough uh, movies that I should probably be confessing for, to know that it’s definitely FORGIVE me Father.” Phoenix’s confidence only slightly wavered, but Miles could hear that disgustingly cocky tone in his voice.
“Forgiveness does not come from me, it comes from God. You are confessing to God through me. Ergo, I bless you, not forgive, as I am man, and man is….flawed.” Miles trailed off, hearing Phoenix on the other side give a throaty laugh.
“How flawed could you be? You are a man of God, are you not? You aren’t like us plebeians who lust, drink, or fornicate with the same sex. You’re…patrician.” His voice was thick, dripping with need. He was already hard, the temptation to touch himself was almost overwhelming, but he couldn’t give himself way too quickly, not when his prize was just on the other side of the barrier.
“I am…a man, who may be more plebeian than my followers need to know.” Miles retorted, growing more terrified with every passing sentence. They were already walking on a razor laced wire and he knew it, but it was like a drug; very swiftly addicting. It was like a countdown, waiting for one of them to snap.
“What do they call that, a wolf in sheep’s clothing?” Phoenix grinned, basking in the slightly offended scoff that Miles gave him.
Outside of these doors, there could be anyone. People walking back in to do their prayers or reconciliations; curious tourists who wanted to take pictures of the large amount of stained glass or grand marble statues in the nave.
And yet, despite knowing that they existed in a small, wooden bubble, where the outside was unknown, and could possess any number of demons, he pressed forward.
“Are you willing to take that risk?” Miles asked, voice low, fingers clenched in the fabric of his vestment. He knew what he was asking, and he knew he was taking a huge leap of faith with this.
What if Phoenix was the wolf amongst sheep? What if this was some grand test against him, from the archdiocese or above? There were so many fears based in paranoia, mostly justified by his position, but he heard the desperate whine, mere inches away from where his face was pressed against the wooden screen.
“Yes.” In a breathless tone, Phoenix bit his bottom lip to keep from making any louder noises. This was all Father Edgeworth needed. Closing his eyes and exhaling deeply, he gave a sharp, but low ‘wait’ command to the bad influence beside him, before opening the door, slipping out into the nave.
Thankfully, it seemed that even Maria had left for the day, as he quickly slid into the other side of the booth.
“Tight fit, isn’t it, Father?” Phoenix grinned, as Miles managed to close the wooden door behind him, leaning against it as if his life depended on it. Even with that, he was towering over Phoenix, who sat perched on the little bench, attached to the wall.
“I daresay that these were not meant for the creation or continuance of sin.” Miles muttered, their foreheads only inches from each other. Their heated breath quickly making the air thick and humid, both almost scared to make the first move.
“The fact that you’re here says a lot about the sort of sins you’re okay with.” Phoenix looked up, bringing up one of his hands tentatively, running his fingers along the Roman collar that adorned the priest’s neck.
Miles met his gaze, searching desperately for a hint of deviation in Phoenix’s gaze, but all he saw was ardour and need.
“And you? Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?” Miles asked, his last ditch effort to have an excuse to leave, his final attempt at getting Phoenix to admit that this was all a mistake. Instead, he watched the disbarred attorney lick his lips and lean in closer.
“Hopefully, you.” He purred, as he leaned in further, Miles meeting him halfway as soon as the words left his mouth, lips colliding as a fire met a spark; engulfing them in the destructive flames of deviance.
Temptation. That was what Miles Edgeworth felt the moment that he had first looked at the man currently in front of him.
It was a sin, but he couldn't stop himself from reaching out, touching that smooth skin, feeling the muscles beneath.
It was wrong, he told himself. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
Yet as Miles felt Phoenix's tongue slide against his own, snaking easily past the priest’s lips, the rational part of his mind was losing out to the primal, truly human part.
He was sloppy, his lips uncoordinated as Phoenix dominated him easily. Taking charge, consuming him, as Miles tried to keep up, not able to tell which way was up or down as his brain swirled with the electric heat.
He was quickly growing hard, and he could tell Phoenix was too, judging by the feeling of something poking his thigh, as their bodies pressed together in the incredibly cramped space.
Phoenix, on the other hand, was completely focused on the kiss. He wasn't thinking of the consequences, or how much he wanted this to last forever. He was lost in the sensations of the other man's mouth against his. The slick feel of tongues, the taste of their new environment they had shared, and the heat of it all.
"Fuck..." He muttered against Miles' mouth, before pulling away for air. He could hear his heartbeat echoing throughout the booth. Miles inhaled quickly and tried to even out his breathing, the sticky air around them causing the fervent heat in his loins to burn ever hotter.
He couldn’t speak, feeling frozen in place, but only knowing the cry inside of his body screaming ‘More! More! MORE!’
Feeling the same way, Phoenix tried to slide down onto his knees as best as he could, in the tiny confessional. He had reached down and pawed his own cock through his jeans, trying to stifle his moans.
Phoenix bit his lip, a little embarrassed at how quickly he got hard, but as he saw Father Edgeworth quivering with need himself, he felt almost honoured to be the one to make the man of the cloth unravel.
Knees connecting with the ground, Phoenix leaned against the priest’s thighs, his cheek nuzzling against the soft cotton vestment, worshipping the lithe body against him. He mouthed against Miles’ dick, relishing in the way that the priest above him gasped loudly.
"You don't have to--" Miles started, breathlessly, but Phoenix cut him off.
"I want to. I need to." Phoenix whispered, looking up at him through lidded eyes as he reached up underneath the priest’s vestment, then bunched them up around his hips, exposing his hardened cock.
He was still wearing his boxer briefs, but Phoenix slid his fingers inside the elastic, pushing them down his beautiful thighs.
“You’re gorgeous.” Phoenix breathed, his humble praise somehow doing more to Miles’ arousal than anything they had done thus far. He felt valued, wanted, more than a guide or a leader, but as a man.
Despite everything, Phoenix still didn't know where this impassioned flame came from. The lust he felt for the priest was like a sudden, violent storm, a torrent of emotions he didn't think he could control.
His mouth watered at the sight of Miles' erection, straining against the fabric of his briefs. Phoenix wrapped a hand around the other man's cock and pumped. He watched as the priest's eyes slid shut and he exhaled a low groan, biting his lip as he did.
"Ohh, Father Almighty, creator of heaven and Earth...." Miles muttered, praying under his breath, trying to keep himself as quiet as he could.
The priest grabbed onto the wooden walls on either side of him, using it as a crutch as he bucked his hips forward into Phoenix's hand.
The younger man moaned in response, gripping tighter and stroking faster, not racing towards the finish, but rather hoping to keep the priest edged as much as he could.
Phoenix felt Miles' legs tense, and the man's cock twitched against his palm. He knew he had him.
It was at that moment that Phoenix stopped touching him, instead sliding his hand down Miles' thighs and grabbing at the backs of his knees. He pushed up, but settled back into the wooden bench, quickly reaching under him and yanking down his underwear further, so he could spread his legs further, guiding the older man onto his lap, holding onto him as he slid his thighs over Phoenix's.
"I've been wondering what it would be like to ride you." Phoenix breathed, and he watched Miles' cheeks redden, though the priest didn't seem to know how to respond.
Phoenix took advantage of the priest's stammering by gripping Miles' cock again, this time, also ensuring to run the tips of his fingers against Miles’ balls, and the priest groaned softly at the touch.
"P-Phoenix, don't you need any-- ah!-- preparation? I don't want to hurt you--" He may not have experienced another man’s dick in his ass before, but he had a general idea of the supplies needed, of which they had none.
“I’ll be fine, d-don’t worry about me. I’m clean, and I-I prepared beforehand.” He winked, before awkwardly shuffling their positions as quietly as possible, as he guided Father Edgeworth to take his spot on the bench.
It only took a few moments for them to rearrange themselves, but to Miles it felt like an eternity, as Phoenix preened him, worshipping his body with his stray touches and gentle caresses as he sat down.
His robes dishevelled, hair a mess and collar askew, he looked absolutely debauched already, and as Phoenix straddled his thighs, pinning the priest against the wall, he felt like his nerves would light on fire at this very moment.
There was no denying that he was beautiful, and as Phoenix gripped his shoulders to steady himself, he thought that perhaps he might come from the sight of Miles alone.
"How does it feel?" Phoenix whispered, voice soft, and Miles blinked, looking up at him with a look of desperation, as if he had been waiting for this for years. He grasped at Phoenix’s hips, trying to reassure himself that this was happening, he was throwing away his vows and promises, he was giving it all up to this one man.
"It feels....it feels nice." He answered, and Phoenix felt a twinge of pride that the usually well-spoken priest had trouble forming sentences.
"I'm glad. I didn’t want your first time to be a miserable one." Phoenix explained, chuckling as he managed to wriggle out of his own undergarments, bare ass now meeting Miles’ thighs.
He felt Miles shift against him, legs pressed together almost painfully, their erections so close to each other that Phoenix gave them both a light, teasing tug together, causing Miles to moan, louder than he wanted to.
The sensation sent a spark up Phoenix's spine, and he gripped Miles tighter, trying to keep himself from bucking forward too hard.
"How do you know it’s my first time?" Miles asked, his voice too cocky for his own good, especially as his mind raced with anxiety and fear, despite his eagerness. Phoenix grinned, giving a playful nip on MIles’ neck, revelling in the high pitched noises that the priest made in response.
“I may not know much about religion, but I'm pretty sure priests aren’t allowed to have sex.” Phoenix lifted himself up, arms clasping around Miles’ neck as he gingerly lowered himself down.
He pressed their foreheads together, noticing as Miles shook in his grasp.
“Allowed to or not, I’ve chosen you, Phoenix.” The words stumbled out from Father Edgeworth’s lips, each weighing a brick on Phoenix’s heart. Here he was, debauching a man of the cloth, forgetting that the man had free will of his own and was not turning him away.
“Honestly makes me feel less guilty about this whole thing. Are you ready for me, Father?” Phoenix grinned, giving the priest a chaste kiss, waiting for him to nod in response before sinking lower.
His ass was definitely well prepared enough as Miles gasped loudly, feeling his dick get enveloped by the warm, tight heat.
“Wow, oh my…Phoenix…” Father Edgeworth groaned, biting down on his lower lip, as Phoenix settled down, his ass flush against the priest’s thighs.
“F-fuck, Father, you feel so good.” He exhaled loudly, letting his body get used to the intrusion. He felt high, the sensation of doing something so wrong, so against every rule that he had ever known, paired with the feeling of incredible pleasure.
He felt like he was going to explode if he even dared to breathe the wrong way.
It appeared that Miles felt much the same way, as his brow furrowed, fists tightening their grasp on his lover’s waist.
Giving him a few seconds to get used to the feeling, Phoenix gradually increased the speed of his movements, lifting himself up slightly, before sinking back down, earning a honeyed moan from Father Edgeworth.
“Ph-Phoenix!” He sounded desperate already, his hips bucking as best as they could as he was still pressed against the bench. With each of his movements, Phoenix encouraged him with a lustful, husky moan.
“Yes, that’s it, Father. I want to hear you.” Phoenix panted, taking charge a bit by guiding one of the priest’s hands from his hips to his dick. This was the first time that Miles had touched a dick that wasn’t his own.
The newness of the situation wasn’t lost on him, as he tentatively wrapped his hands around it, trying to emulate what he would do to himself on the rare occasion that he indulged in self pleasure.
It was more than enough for Phoenix, who threw his head back, touque threatening to fall off of his head.
“Yes, Father, YES, you’re so fucking good.” He didn’t even care that he kept swearing in front of the priest, it was probably the least offensive thing that they were doing.
Their noises were beginning to increase in volume, despite their best intentions to stay quiet, it was growing increasingly hard, as they were engulfed in their mutual pleasure.
Beginning to panic slightly, Father Edgeworth leaned forward, burying his face in Phoenix’s chest, muffling his cries of ecstasy, even as he continued to pump Phoenix’s cock.
The former attorney placed a kiss to the top of Miles’ head, then brought his hand up under the priest’s chin, tilting his head back up and kissing him deeply once more.
Their kisses were unpracticed, slightly chaotic, and full of ravenous energy as they learned each other’s bodies. Phoenix continued his arduous rhythm on the priest’s cock.
Paired with the way that Miles was clumsily, but earnestly still staggeringly stroking his dick, he was quickly getting pushed off of the cliff of pleasure.
Phoenix moaned in Miles’ mouth, the vibrations travelling down both of their spines, the toe curling pleasure mounting inside of them. Phoenix was forced to slow down, to draw this out, to prolong the pleasure for both of them.
Breaking apart from their kiss, Phoenix nestled his face in between the space between Miles’ neck and shoulder.
He couldn’t resist the urge to bite and nip every inch of exposed skin that there was, with every noise that left the priest’s lips getting him closer and closer.
"Phoenix...I..." Miles gasped out, eyes clenched tightly as Phoenix felt precum pooling at the head of his cock, the first indication that the priest was close.
"Me too, just keep going...I'm close..." He panted, gripping Miles' neck, keeping him in place as he moved up and down the priest's cock, faster this time.
"Ah...Phoenix!" Miles cried out, his whole body tensing as his orgasm took over him. He released his load into Phoenix, the warm sensation causing him to shudder, his orgasm mere seconds away as he felt the rush of semen inside of his body.
With a whimper, the priest buried his face into Phoenix's shoulder, a choked moan escaping his throat as his orgasm continued, dick twitching with almost overstimulation.
Feeling Miles' body tremble and twitch against him, combined with the sensation of his hot come spurting over his fingers was all it took for Phoenix to finish with a loud cry of ecstasy, coming across Miles' stomach.
His orgasm was intense, causing his whole body to feel tingly and numb. He rested his forehead against Miles', trying to regain his breath.
When he had gotten control of himself again, Phoenix brought his hand up to Miles' face, brushing away some of the sweat that had dripped onto his cheek.
"That was... a first." He said, voice hitching as he spoke.
Phoenix couldn't help but smile at the way that the priest looked right now, lips kiss swollen, with a red, flushed face, but a satisfied expression, nonetheless.
“I can honestly say that that was many…many a first for me.” Miles replied, the reality of everything beginning to set in, although guilt was not an emotion that was surfacing.
“Do you regret it?” Phoenix asked, wiping his brow, and grinning at the mess that he had made against Miles’ stomach, ruining the vestment.
“I..no. No, I don’t think that I do.” Miles sighed, assisting Phoenix in standing up, his softened dick sliding out of his lover with an obscene noise.
“Good, cause I think I’m addicted now.” Phoenix chuckled, trying to clean up as best as he could, and straightening the priest’s clothes to make their tryst a little less obvious.
“Well, I have a support group for that, you know.”
***
The weeks went by, and Phoenix continued to join the Sunday Mass, although he ended up leaving the support group, which, to be fair to him, was likely never going to be a recurring event in his life anyway.
Miles remained a man of the cloth. Devoted to the people of his community and his flock. The crisis of faith never came. The regret and worldly fear never settled inside of him.
Through it all, through their nightly romps at Phoenix’s place, or in rented rooms; lust filled texts or secret glances during service…
Miles remained faithful, even though he was very much unapologetically, unavoidably gay.