ext_46181 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
v-angelique.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fellowshippers2006-10-11 07:39 pm
v-angelique.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2006-10-11 07:39 pm
Brethren, Chapter Twelve
Title: Brethren 12/15
Author: Viktoria Angelique
Beta:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
saura_
Pairing: SB/EW
Rating: PG-13 this part
Disclaimer: Clearly not true.
Summary: Sean faces his past.
A/N: I know I said I'd do two this week since I missed two weeks, but I realised this chapter and the next should really be read separately. So I will post chapter thirteen over the weekend, and fourteen next Wednesday. Thanks for your patience!
Previous Chapters
Two days after Elijah met Sean for prayer, two days after the boy showed the considerable restraint that only served to kindle the fire in Sean’s veins even more sharply, a short letter appeared under Sean’s office door. The letter was written on a scrap of parchment, and the penmanship was a little shaky, but legible.
Minister Bean,
I ask you, not as a student, but as a friend, to dine with me tonight. I have checked in advance, and there are no duties that need your attention. You are of course welcome to decline, but I sincerely hope that you will not reject my invitation.
Please do not be afraid of me—what passes between us is, and always has been, entirely up to you. If you are interested in meeting me, come to William Boyd’s cabin at sundown. He and his wife are away visiting her sister in Philadelphia for two nights and we will not be disturbed.
Whatever your decision,
Yours in faith,
Elijah J. Wood
Sean read the missive at least four times, turning it over in his hands, running his fingers over the dried black ink. He knew that he shouldn’t go. Elijah’s intentions were clear—“whatever happens between us.” He might be giving Sean a choice, but Sean knew what Elijah hoped for. And Elijah’s intentions aside, Sean was still sure to break at least six or seven community rules if he showed up.
He would have to take a horse, which was fine for him, but he would be condoning Elijah’s use of a horse, which was surely not approved in advance.
He would be meeting the boy—and this certainly did not escape his notice—at the exact location where Elijah had previously sinned with the native. If he did this, if he met Elijah with such a clear intention hanging in the air—for perhaps Elijah did not require him to do anything more than dine and talk, but Sean knew that if he went, his own intention would be clear as crystal—he would truly be no better than the native.
He knew what the natives did, he knew about their bonds of older and younger man, and he had trained himself to be disgusted by it. But now he found himself curious—how had Elijah met the man that he had sinned with? He wasn’t much older than Elijah himself, one of the chief’s nephews. Sean wondered if he had been training Elijah in the ways of sexual intimacy to prepare him for marriage with a woman, as was common practice in the tribes, or if the union was of a less purposeful nature. Had Elijah had such a mentor before he was brought back to the community, when he lived among the natives himself?
Sean wished, once again, that he could speak to Viggo about these curiosities and about Sean’s fears, but he knew what Viggo would tell him. Sean was no better than a native. Natives, just as well as Christians, were God’s children, and Sean was inclined to agree with him. Was what he felt boiling under his veins when he looked at Elijah truly a sin? Did men have the right to judge him? In his mind, Sean went back, back to England and back to harder times, and felt his blood go chill.
”You can’t be serious. You’re going to take up the cloth? Sean, that’s not what men like us do! We’re honest, hard-working people, and we’re going to stay that way until we die…”
“I can’t grow old with you, Patrick.”
“But… all the things you’ve said to me… were they all lies?”
“The ministers are offering me a better life,” Sean answered with a shrug, his heart breaking as he stepped away to the window. “If I stay here, I live forever in hiding and in fear. We can barely make ends meet, and you know the laws don’t support us. We’re young and foolish, and Minister O’Keefe has offered me full forgiveness for my sins if I repent now. He says that my rejection of my religion in favour of life with you was simply a test, a test that God gave me. I still have a chance to pass this test, and so do you. We just have to admit that we’ve been rationalizing, that the reasons we’ve come up with for our love are wrong, and immoral, and that there is a better way for us within the Church…”
“Full forgiveness? You want me to come with you? What are you, crazy?! This man is feeding you poison, and you’re drinking it up like mother’s milk! He only says these things to advance his own selfish goals, and you’re falling for every word of it. You want to talk about rationalizing, that’s exactly what those men do! They stymie their true desires in the name of God, or the Bible, or whatever… they’re fucking hypocrites!”
Sean could feel Patrick at his back, feel the tension in his lover’s muscles although they did not touch. It took every ounce of will power and determination not to hear Patrick’s words, which made so much sense. The minister had warned him about this. He had to be strong.
“Patrick, this is the path I have chosen. I had hoped you would support me.”
Patrick didn’t answer Sean directly, stepping closer instead to stand just a few inches from Sean’s back. Sean could feel the warmth of his breath, stark against the cold of their rented room. “Do you still regret me, Sean?” Patrick’s voice was little more than a whisper, but Sean could hear the tears behind it, echoes of his own which remained unshed. “Are you still ashamed of that? You said you had banished your demons long ago, and now this? Answer me truthfully, Sean, and I’ll walk right out this door and let you do whatever the hell you want with this life, but I want an honest answer. Do you consider me a mistake?”
Sean sighed, long and painfully, unable to turn from the window. “Yes,” he lied. It was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, but if the minister was right, it would get easier. He lived in a world where this love was impure, and would be punished. He had to save himself while he still could. Patrick’s pleas were enticing, but the minister offered a better life—both here on Earth and in Heaven.
Sean waited for Patrick to leave, waited a few long minutes, and then he turned and was shocked to find the man still standing directly in front of him, shoving him up against the window with alacrity. For a brief moment, Sean thought he would push him through, and the three-story drop would be the end of him. And for a moment, he almost wanted that.
But no, it was not Sean’s fate to die at the hands of an angry lover, and instead Patrick’s hands fisted in his threadbare shirt, pulled him close, and attacked him with lips that carried the passion of a thousand suns. When Patrick finally pulled away, Sean was gasping for air, and hardly conscious of the fact that they had just shared a long kiss in a window overlooking a public street in broad daylight.
“Hope you liked that, you Godforsaken liar,” Patrick whispered, tears catching in his throat. “It’s the last you’ll ever taste of me.”
By the time Sean had shaken his memory, he was standing at the front door of Billy’s cabin. Clenching and unfurling his sweating palms, he hesitated a long beat before knocking on the door. If he did this, and if the ministers were right, then he would be condemning himself to Hell in a way that he had finally managed to avoid when he left Patrick. But then, what if Elijah was right? What if his people misinterpreted the Scriptures? What if God really did love him, regardless of whom he loved here on Earth?
And Sean couldn’t help but thinking, Here is my chance. Here is the chance to fix what went wrong with Patrick, to set fire to a young heart rather than breaking it.
So perhaps, he thought as he raised his shaking fist to the door, it was not the fear of spiritual failure that plagued him, but the fear of breaking another fragile human heart. If he found himself to be wrong; if he realized that this was a sin and had to deny Elijah because of it, he wasn’t sure he could survive another round of repentance.
“Hey! What are you doing standing out on the doorstep? Please, come in,” Elijah greeted him, swinging the door open and ushering Sean inside the cabin. “I wasn’t sure you would come,” Elijah admitted, taking Sean’s skin coat and hanging it up on a wooden peg in the corner. “I’m glad you did.”
Sean looked down at the young man, Elijah’s smile as genuine and pure as anything that could be on this earth, his eyes clearly displaying both enthusiasm and relief. Elijah’s skin was pale against his beige linen shirt, almost ethereal, and his posture was confident but not threatening. Sean took a deep breath, locking his eyes to Elijah’s own, and said a brief prayer that what he was surely about to do would be the right thing.
“I wasn’t sure either. I’m still not sure that I’ve made the right decision, but I guess I have to stand by it, now,” Sean admitted with a shrug, following Elijah to the table where he had set out some roast chicken and potatoes, along with a jar of wine that obviously came from Billy’s own stores.
“I told you in the letter, Sean,” Elijah reminded him in a soft tone as he pulled out a straight-backed wooden chair for Sean to sit in. “What happens tonight is entirely up to you.”
“Yes, you did,” Sean agreed, unfolding a linen napkin carefully into his lap. “But I want to know what you want to happen. I want you to say it, Elijah. Just so we’re clear.”
Elijah looked at him uneasily as he sat down across the small table from Sean, drawing his lower lip between his teeth and not answering immediately. “This sounds like a trap.”
Sean sighed and poured himself and Elijah each a glass of wine, taking a long sip from his own as he considered his words. “I understand why you might think that,” he finally agreed. “I’ve given you no reason to think otherwise, and told you very little about myself that would explain my predilections on the subject. But I want you to be honest. If it helps you trust me, I will be honest with you as well. You are not the first young man I have been tempted to fall in love with.”
Elijah paused, a forkful of chicken halfway to his mouth, and stared at Sean for a long moment before replying. “Tempted… does this mean you did fall in love with this other young man, then?” Sean nodded. “Oh.”
“We were working class blokes, quite young, and times were hard in England. I loved him dearly, but we were suffering, and the church offered me a way out. Since then I have spent years denying and running from the past the ministers told me to reject, but I suspect that God may be trying to tell me something else now, by bringing you to me. I suspect that I may be looking at things entirely wrong. Now please, lad, tell me the truth. Tell me what you want.”
Elijah took a moment to think, chewing his chicken thoughtfully and cocking his head to the side as he watched Sean. It was a bit unnerving for the minister, having the boy stare at him like he was a side of beef, or rather more as if he were trying to see through Sean’s appearance and find something out about what he was really made of; about his soul. It made Sean feel intensely inadequate, not up to the challenge that he appeared to be facing head-on in the form of Elijah and his many sweet temptations.
“I want you,” Elijah said simply after a minute’s reflection. “I feel a spark with you that I haven’t felt with any woman…nor with any man. I saw you as a worthy opponent at first, someone I could challenge to adjust his assumptions, but I’m starting to realize, Sean, that I have underestimated you, and maybe I’ve been thinking of things all wrong as well. I don’t want you as an opponent anymore; I want you as an equal. I want you not simply in a carnal way, but in the way that a man loves his wife and a woman loves her husband. We’re clearly not there yet, but I have my own hopes for this evening. What I’d really like is simple—for you to admit that you want me.”
Sean stared at Elijah for a very long time, just chewing his food in silence and trying to process what he had been told. He wasn’t sure he could do what was being asked of him—to “simply” want and love Elijah—at all. Because it wasn’t simple. Sean wasn’t sure he was equal to this monumental task, to the risk of rejecting the truths that his religion and society had been throwing at him ever since he fastened a gold cross around his neck and took the Holy Communion as a servant of the Lord. He was reminded of a parable he had often recited to the young native children who were almost ready to convert and receive baptism. He wasn’t sure where it had come from, precisely, but it rang true now.
A man comes to the bank of a wide, rushing river. A bridge crosses this river, but it is made up only of a plank, less than the width of the man’s foot. He hesitates, but he is being pursued by demons and vicious beasts that are close at his back. At the opposite bank, a man—who in the parable represents Jesus—stands, calling him to cross. “Do not be afraid, my child,” the man on the other bank says. “The river is wide and angry, but the beasts that plague you are far more frightening. Have faith in me, and you will succumb neither to the river of doubts and temptations, nor to the demons that try to crush your spirit.” The man listens to Jesus, and he crosses the plank—he believes. As he walks, the task becomes easier, and the plank goes wider. At the other side, he is welcomed with open arms not just by Jesus, but by all the heavenly hosts.
When Sean had used this parable, the meaning was quite obvious. The man on the other side is Jesus, and the river is worldly temptation and doubts in Christ’s love. The demons are minions of Satan, trying to goad the righteous man into fear and keep him from joining his brothers in heaven. However, now as Sean considered this parable, he saw it differently.
The man Sean pictured now was not Jesus, but Elijah. The rivers were temptation of a different kind—temptation to accept religious beliefs without questioning, to follow the ministers back in England who had counseled him. Their counsel, he realized now, was given maliciously to an uneducated young man with a hard lot in life, but he didn’t recognize it for what it was at the time. But these ministers used their supposed superior knowledge and understanding of the Lord to teach him that his love—a love that felt right and true in his heart—was wrong. The demons, Sean realized now, were the ministers themselves, the entire Church perhaps, and those who make judgments on earth before God is given a chance to in heaven. These men, these demons in priests’ clothing, were cautioning Sean not to make the leap, not to trust Elijah or the pure love whose seed he felt in his heart, and rather to cling to the safety of his profession and interpretations of the Scriptures that he had never questioned to any great extent. They stood at his back, cautioning and discouraging him… and Sean leapt.
Elijah gasped aloud as he was yanked from his chair, fearing the worst, and then gasped louder, the sound swallowed by Sean’s lips as he took Elijah’s face in his hands from across the table and pressed them to Elijah’s own. The older man wasted no time, licking Elijah’s lips and requesting entrance, then plundering Elijah’s mouth with his tongue when it was granted.
Years fell away like sand through mortal fingertips, and Sean knew exactly what to do. The feel of flexing muscle under his fingertips was familiar, the slight bite of rough stubble on his chin comforting. Forgetting the food, he stepped to the side of the small table, still leaning forward to keep his lips on Elijah’s, and met the slighter man halfway. Their bodies pressed together and now it was Sean’s turn to let out a gasp, for it was so right, so obvious—he had been led astray, not by his sexuality but by the hypocrites who tried to teach him that Christ loved him but not the actions that he was drawn to in his heart, men who wouldn’t know the true form of Christ’s love if it were to hit them on the head. He moaned from utter joy as he wrapped his arms around Elijah’s waist, touching every inch he could reach, worshipping the boy who showed him the true meaning of love.
Elijah’s kiss felt more holy than a prayer, his lips sweeter than the wine of communion, and Sean’s heart was glad and filled with thanks. For the first time in years, he knew without a doubt that he was doing the right thing. “I want you,” he whispered against Elijah’s lips, confirming what Elijah had been hoping for this evening. Elijah smiled, not innocent but somehow pure, and Sean sent up a prayer.
Thank you Father, for showing me the true path of love and understanding. I won’t leave it again. As Elijah brushed his hair back from his face, pulled away and looked deep into his eyes, Sean knew that this time he could keep his promise.
Sean was no longer afraid.
Author: Viktoria Angelique
Beta:
saura_Pairing: SB/EW
Rating: PG-13 this part
Disclaimer: Clearly not true.
Summary: Sean faces his past.
A/N: I know I said I'd do two this week since I missed two weeks, but I realised this chapter and the next should really be read separately. So I will post chapter thirteen over the weekend, and fourteen next Wednesday. Thanks for your patience!
Previous Chapters
Two days after Elijah met Sean for prayer, two days after the boy showed the considerable restraint that only served to kindle the fire in Sean’s veins even more sharply, a short letter appeared under Sean’s office door. The letter was written on a scrap of parchment, and the penmanship was a little shaky, but legible.
Minister Bean,
I ask you, not as a student, but as a friend, to dine with me tonight. I have checked in advance, and there are no duties that need your attention. You are of course welcome to decline, but I sincerely hope that you will not reject my invitation.
Please do not be afraid of me—what passes between us is, and always has been, entirely up to you. If you are interested in meeting me, come to William Boyd’s cabin at sundown. He and his wife are away visiting her sister in Philadelphia for two nights and we will not be disturbed.
Whatever your decision,
Yours in faith,
Elijah J. Wood
Sean read the missive at least four times, turning it over in his hands, running his fingers over the dried black ink. He knew that he shouldn’t go. Elijah’s intentions were clear—“whatever happens between us.” He might be giving Sean a choice, but Sean knew what Elijah hoped for. And Elijah’s intentions aside, Sean was still sure to break at least six or seven community rules if he showed up.
He would have to take a horse, which was fine for him, but he would be condoning Elijah’s use of a horse, which was surely not approved in advance.
He would be meeting the boy—and this certainly did not escape his notice—at the exact location where Elijah had previously sinned with the native. If he did this, if he met Elijah with such a clear intention hanging in the air—for perhaps Elijah did not require him to do anything more than dine and talk, but Sean knew that if he went, his own intention would be clear as crystal—he would truly be no better than the native.
He knew what the natives did, he knew about their bonds of older and younger man, and he had trained himself to be disgusted by it. But now he found himself curious—how had Elijah met the man that he had sinned with? He wasn’t much older than Elijah himself, one of the chief’s nephews. Sean wondered if he had been training Elijah in the ways of sexual intimacy to prepare him for marriage with a woman, as was common practice in the tribes, or if the union was of a less purposeful nature. Had Elijah had such a mentor before he was brought back to the community, when he lived among the natives himself?
Sean wished, once again, that he could speak to Viggo about these curiosities and about Sean’s fears, but he knew what Viggo would tell him. Sean was no better than a native. Natives, just as well as Christians, were God’s children, and Sean was inclined to agree with him. Was what he felt boiling under his veins when he looked at Elijah truly a sin? Did men have the right to judge him? In his mind, Sean went back, back to England and back to harder times, and felt his blood go chill.
”You can’t be serious. You’re going to take up the cloth? Sean, that’s not what men like us do! We’re honest, hard-working people, and we’re going to stay that way until we die…”
“I can’t grow old with you, Patrick.”
“But… all the things you’ve said to me… were they all lies?”
“The ministers are offering me a better life,” Sean answered with a shrug, his heart breaking as he stepped away to the window. “If I stay here, I live forever in hiding and in fear. We can barely make ends meet, and you know the laws don’t support us. We’re young and foolish, and Minister O’Keefe has offered me full forgiveness for my sins if I repent now. He says that my rejection of my religion in favour of life with you was simply a test, a test that God gave me. I still have a chance to pass this test, and so do you. We just have to admit that we’ve been rationalizing, that the reasons we’ve come up with for our love are wrong, and immoral, and that there is a better way for us within the Church…”
“Full forgiveness? You want me to come with you? What are you, crazy?! This man is feeding you poison, and you’re drinking it up like mother’s milk! He only says these things to advance his own selfish goals, and you’re falling for every word of it. You want to talk about rationalizing, that’s exactly what those men do! They stymie their true desires in the name of God, or the Bible, or whatever… they’re fucking hypocrites!”
Sean could feel Patrick at his back, feel the tension in his lover’s muscles although they did not touch. It took every ounce of will power and determination not to hear Patrick’s words, which made so much sense. The minister had warned him about this. He had to be strong.
“Patrick, this is the path I have chosen. I had hoped you would support me.”
Patrick didn’t answer Sean directly, stepping closer instead to stand just a few inches from Sean’s back. Sean could feel the warmth of his breath, stark against the cold of their rented room. “Do you still regret me, Sean?” Patrick’s voice was little more than a whisper, but Sean could hear the tears behind it, echoes of his own which remained unshed. “Are you still ashamed of that? You said you had banished your demons long ago, and now this? Answer me truthfully, Sean, and I’ll walk right out this door and let you do whatever the hell you want with this life, but I want an honest answer. Do you consider me a mistake?”
Sean sighed, long and painfully, unable to turn from the window. “Yes,” he lied. It was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, but if the minister was right, it would get easier. He lived in a world where this love was impure, and would be punished. He had to save himself while he still could. Patrick’s pleas were enticing, but the minister offered a better life—both here on Earth and in Heaven.
Sean waited for Patrick to leave, waited a few long minutes, and then he turned and was shocked to find the man still standing directly in front of him, shoving him up against the window with alacrity. For a brief moment, Sean thought he would push him through, and the three-story drop would be the end of him. And for a moment, he almost wanted that.
But no, it was not Sean’s fate to die at the hands of an angry lover, and instead Patrick’s hands fisted in his threadbare shirt, pulled him close, and attacked him with lips that carried the passion of a thousand suns. When Patrick finally pulled away, Sean was gasping for air, and hardly conscious of the fact that they had just shared a long kiss in a window overlooking a public street in broad daylight.
“Hope you liked that, you Godforsaken liar,” Patrick whispered, tears catching in his throat. “It’s the last you’ll ever taste of me.”
By the time Sean had shaken his memory, he was standing at the front door of Billy’s cabin. Clenching and unfurling his sweating palms, he hesitated a long beat before knocking on the door. If he did this, and if the ministers were right, then he would be condemning himself to Hell in a way that he had finally managed to avoid when he left Patrick. But then, what if Elijah was right? What if his people misinterpreted the Scriptures? What if God really did love him, regardless of whom he loved here on Earth?
And Sean couldn’t help but thinking, Here is my chance. Here is the chance to fix what went wrong with Patrick, to set fire to a young heart rather than breaking it.
So perhaps, he thought as he raised his shaking fist to the door, it was not the fear of spiritual failure that plagued him, but the fear of breaking another fragile human heart. If he found himself to be wrong; if he realized that this was a sin and had to deny Elijah because of it, he wasn’t sure he could survive another round of repentance.
“Hey! What are you doing standing out on the doorstep? Please, come in,” Elijah greeted him, swinging the door open and ushering Sean inside the cabin. “I wasn’t sure you would come,” Elijah admitted, taking Sean’s skin coat and hanging it up on a wooden peg in the corner. “I’m glad you did.”
Sean looked down at the young man, Elijah’s smile as genuine and pure as anything that could be on this earth, his eyes clearly displaying both enthusiasm and relief. Elijah’s skin was pale against his beige linen shirt, almost ethereal, and his posture was confident but not threatening. Sean took a deep breath, locking his eyes to Elijah’s own, and said a brief prayer that what he was surely about to do would be the right thing.
“I wasn’t sure either. I’m still not sure that I’ve made the right decision, but I guess I have to stand by it, now,” Sean admitted with a shrug, following Elijah to the table where he had set out some roast chicken and potatoes, along with a jar of wine that obviously came from Billy’s own stores.
“I told you in the letter, Sean,” Elijah reminded him in a soft tone as he pulled out a straight-backed wooden chair for Sean to sit in. “What happens tonight is entirely up to you.”
“Yes, you did,” Sean agreed, unfolding a linen napkin carefully into his lap. “But I want to know what you want to happen. I want you to say it, Elijah. Just so we’re clear.”
Elijah looked at him uneasily as he sat down across the small table from Sean, drawing his lower lip between his teeth and not answering immediately. “This sounds like a trap.”
Sean sighed and poured himself and Elijah each a glass of wine, taking a long sip from his own as he considered his words. “I understand why you might think that,” he finally agreed. “I’ve given you no reason to think otherwise, and told you very little about myself that would explain my predilections on the subject. But I want you to be honest. If it helps you trust me, I will be honest with you as well. You are not the first young man I have been tempted to fall in love with.”
Elijah paused, a forkful of chicken halfway to his mouth, and stared at Sean for a long moment before replying. “Tempted… does this mean you did fall in love with this other young man, then?” Sean nodded. “Oh.”
“We were working class blokes, quite young, and times were hard in England. I loved him dearly, but we were suffering, and the church offered me a way out. Since then I have spent years denying and running from the past the ministers told me to reject, but I suspect that God may be trying to tell me something else now, by bringing you to me. I suspect that I may be looking at things entirely wrong. Now please, lad, tell me the truth. Tell me what you want.”
Elijah took a moment to think, chewing his chicken thoughtfully and cocking his head to the side as he watched Sean. It was a bit unnerving for the minister, having the boy stare at him like he was a side of beef, or rather more as if he were trying to see through Sean’s appearance and find something out about what he was really made of; about his soul. It made Sean feel intensely inadequate, not up to the challenge that he appeared to be facing head-on in the form of Elijah and his many sweet temptations.
“I want you,” Elijah said simply after a minute’s reflection. “I feel a spark with you that I haven’t felt with any woman…nor with any man. I saw you as a worthy opponent at first, someone I could challenge to adjust his assumptions, but I’m starting to realize, Sean, that I have underestimated you, and maybe I’ve been thinking of things all wrong as well. I don’t want you as an opponent anymore; I want you as an equal. I want you not simply in a carnal way, but in the way that a man loves his wife and a woman loves her husband. We’re clearly not there yet, but I have my own hopes for this evening. What I’d really like is simple—for you to admit that you want me.”
Sean stared at Elijah for a very long time, just chewing his food in silence and trying to process what he had been told. He wasn’t sure he could do what was being asked of him—to “simply” want and love Elijah—at all. Because it wasn’t simple. Sean wasn’t sure he was equal to this monumental task, to the risk of rejecting the truths that his religion and society had been throwing at him ever since he fastened a gold cross around his neck and took the Holy Communion as a servant of the Lord. He was reminded of a parable he had often recited to the young native children who were almost ready to convert and receive baptism. He wasn’t sure where it had come from, precisely, but it rang true now.
A man comes to the bank of a wide, rushing river. A bridge crosses this river, but it is made up only of a plank, less than the width of the man’s foot. He hesitates, but he is being pursued by demons and vicious beasts that are close at his back. At the opposite bank, a man—who in the parable represents Jesus—stands, calling him to cross. “Do not be afraid, my child,” the man on the other bank says. “The river is wide and angry, but the beasts that plague you are far more frightening. Have faith in me, and you will succumb neither to the river of doubts and temptations, nor to the demons that try to crush your spirit.” The man listens to Jesus, and he crosses the plank—he believes. As he walks, the task becomes easier, and the plank goes wider. At the other side, he is welcomed with open arms not just by Jesus, but by all the heavenly hosts.
When Sean had used this parable, the meaning was quite obvious. The man on the other side is Jesus, and the river is worldly temptation and doubts in Christ’s love. The demons are minions of Satan, trying to goad the righteous man into fear and keep him from joining his brothers in heaven. However, now as Sean considered this parable, he saw it differently.
The man Sean pictured now was not Jesus, but Elijah. The rivers were temptation of a different kind—temptation to accept religious beliefs without questioning, to follow the ministers back in England who had counseled him. Their counsel, he realized now, was given maliciously to an uneducated young man with a hard lot in life, but he didn’t recognize it for what it was at the time. But these ministers used their supposed superior knowledge and understanding of the Lord to teach him that his love—a love that felt right and true in his heart—was wrong. The demons, Sean realized now, were the ministers themselves, the entire Church perhaps, and those who make judgments on earth before God is given a chance to in heaven. These men, these demons in priests’ clothing, were cautioning Sean not to make the leap, not to trust Elijah or the pure love whose seed he felt in his heart, and rather to cling to the safety of his profession and interpretations of the Scriptures that he had never questioned to any great extent. They stood at his back, cautioning and discouraging him… and Sean leapt.
Elijah gasped aloud as he was yanked from his chair, fearing the worst, and then gasped louder, the sound swallowed by Sean’s lips as he took Elijah’s face in his hands from across the table and pressed them to Elijah’s own. The older man wasted no time, licking Elijah’s lips and requesting entrance, then plundering Elijah’s mouth with his tongue when it was granted.
Years fell away like sand through mortal fingertips, and Sean knew exactly what to do. The feel of flexing muscle under his fingertips was familiar, the slight bite of rough stubble on his chin comforting. Forgetting the food, he stepped to the side of the small table, still leaning forward to keep his lips on Elijah’s, and met the slighter man halfway. Their bodies pressed together and now it was Sean’s turn to let out a gasp, for it was so right, so obvious—he had been led astray, not by his sexuality but by the hypocrites who tried to teach him that Christ loved him but not the actions that he was drawn to in his heart, men who wouldn’t know the true form of Christ’s love if it were to hit them on the head. He moaned from utter joy as he wrapped his arms around Elijah’s waist, touching every inch he could reach, worshipping the boy who showed him the true meaning of love.
Elijah’s kiss felt more holy than a prayer, his lips sweeter than the wine of communion, and Sean’s heart was glad and filled with thanks. For the first time in years, he knew without a doubt that he was doing the right thing. “I want you,” he whispered against Elijah’s lips, confirming what Elijah had been hoping for this evening. Elijah smiled, not innocent but somehow pure, and Sean sent up a prayer.
Thank you Father, for showing me the true path of love and understanding. I won’t leave it again. As Elijah brushed his hair back from his face, pulled away and looked deep into his eyes, Sean knew that this time he could keep his promise.
Sean was no longer afraid.