FUTURE FIC. I WROTE IT
ALEC IS 19, SO I AM NOT A COMPLETE AND UTTER HORRIBLE HUMAN BEING.
360ish words? 5 years in the future or so. Still in camp.
Alessandro, former Bishop of the Vatican, was now nearing his twentieth birthday. And with it, he was reaching a somewhat new understanding of the world. Through porn.
He hadn't meant to find porn exactly. But he'd been bored and-- well. It had just kind of happened. So there he was, sitting on his bed, half under the covers, his face redder than it had ever been before, watching two naked men engaged in what he'd come to refer in his head as "sexual intercourse of an homosexual nature." (It had taken him years, one mistletoe event, and an extremely awkward confession with Father Nightroad to get him to stop thinking about it as sinning.)
He wasn't doing anything, nor planning to. But he couldn't bring himself to turn down the computer. And as luck would have it, it was just about then that Brother Petros decided to come back from his morning routine. There had been very few instances in the past years in which Alec had regretted living with Petros. One had been when he had first learned about masturbation. Another, a few months back, when he'd found himself thinking about masturbation while looking at Brother Petros. And now this.
He snapped his laptop shut, hoping Petros wouldn't notice anything strange. Sadly, Petros rarely missed things when it concerned him.
"Your Holiness, are you ill?"
Except, he liked to err in the side of caution-- that or he was completely oblivious. Either way, he was grateful for it... until Petros went over and started studying him from up close.
"Ah... hmm! I'm fine."
Petros put a hand on his forehead regardless which just made his face grow redder, which in turn made Petros fuss more. And it was all very embarrassing.
"I WAS WATCHING PORN!" He admitted after some talk about flu season and whether or not it would be wise to call a doctor. The silence that followed that statement was deafening, and Petros just seemed to freeze in place for a good twenty minutes. Alessandro would laugh about it later, much later. After he'd gotten up and kissed Petros to make him react. And after Petros had suddenly decided he hadn't had enough exercise that morning and left again.
360ish words? 5 years in the future or so. Still in camp.
Alessandro, former Bishop of the Vatican, was now nearing his twentieth birthday. And with it, he was reaching a somewhat new understanding of the world. Through porn.
He hadn't meant to find porn exactly. But he'd been bored and-- well. It had just kind of happened. So there he was, sitting on his bed, half under the covers, his face redder than it had ever been before, watching two naked men engaged in what he'd come to refer in his head as "sexual intercourse of an homosexual nature." (It had taken him years, one mistletoe event, and an extremely awkward confession with Father Nightroad to get him to stop thinking about it as sinning.)
He wasn't doing anything, nor planning to. But he couldn't bring himself to turn down the computer. And as luck would have it, it was just about then that Brother Petros decided to come back from his morning routine. There had been very few instances in the past years in which Alec had regretted living with Petros. One had been when he had first learned about masturbation. Another, a few months back, when he'd found himself thinking about masturbation while looking at Brother Petros. And now this.
He snapped his laptop shut, hoping Petros wouldn't notice anything strange. Sadly, Petros rarely missed things when it concerned him.
"Your Holiness, are you ill?"
Except, he liked to err in the side of caution-- that or he was completely oblivious. Either way, he was grateful for it... until Petros went over and started studying him from up close.
"Ah... hmm! I'm fine."
Petros put a hand on his forehead regardless which just made his face grow redder, which in turn made Petros fuss more. And it was all very embarrassing.
"I WAS WATCHING PORN!" He admitted after some talk about flu season and whether or not it would be wise to call a doctor. The silence that followed that statement was deafening, and Petros just seemed to freeze in place for a good twenty minutes. Alessandro would laugh about it later, much later. After he'd gotten up and kissed Petros to make him react. And after Petros had suddenly decided he hadn't had enough exercise that morning and left again.