Man of Steel Fanfic: From Faith, Unshaken; Clark Kent/Father Daniel Leone; Explicit.
Prompt fill for: "Clark/that hot priest"
Warnings: explicit m/m sex, potentially blasphemous theorizing and comparisons, unsafe sexual practices, inappropriate use of a church altar. The author is going to hell; if you believe in such things, don't read more.
NOTES: Many details; such as the priest's name, the church's denomination and some dialog in this piece are drawn from the novelization of the movie. There are aspects, though, such as the church being in Smallville and Clark having had a previous meeting with the priest, I have manipulated as fanfiction so wonderfully allows us to do. This is a lot more religious than I originally intended, but the muses were on a roll. No disrespect is meant to any of the faithful and I apologize for any errors in rites or recitation; I've not attended services myself for several years
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~*~*~
It is a voice addressing the whole of the world from the skies above.
The recording repeats over television and radio.
“My name is General Zod. I come from Krypton, a world far from yours. We have journeyed across an ocean of stars to reach you. The message we bring is one of great urgency. For some time, your world has sheltered one of our citizens. We request that you return this individual to our custody. For reasons unknown, he has chosen to keep his existence a secret from you. He will have made efforts to blend in. He will look like you. But he is not one of you.”
The rest of it all; the thinly veiled threat for compliance registers with Father Daniel Leone, but those are the words that resound with him.
Through a restless night and into a new day, his mind replays the words of this alien and, no matter his teachings, he cannot help but wonder if this same thing had happened before on Earth.
He leaves his parish house and enters the Trinity Lutheran Church at first light. The pews are empty, the sanctuary silent. He had thought people would clamor for spiritual guidance in the face of this crisis, as they often did under the threat of an end to times, but there is no one seeking God in this place.
He finds himself unable to blame them. This isn’t covered in the Bible, they must all think, but Dan opens his worn copy of the scripture and he thinks that this may be exactly where the Bible came from.
A voice from the Heavens speaking to people.
Jesus, the essence of God instilled into a human shape to live among them and die for their sins.
This alien who has been living among them, are they damnation or salvation for humanity?
While Daniel is shaken and fearful like all citizens of Smallville, he sees this as a repetition of history and he has faith. He has hope.
He prepares a sermon to speak of such hope, paging through for verses to cite from the life of Christ upon Earth, but no one comes for his morning service. He practices the sermon in the empty hours waiting for parishioners to counsel, working on his inflection to convey the right amounts of hope and conviction so that his faith may be transferred to the doubters.
He eats a quiet and simple meal in his office, listening to the news reporting the status of the alien ship and theorizing about the identity of the alien among them.
Daniel has always been more open-minded to his fellow theologians in seminary. He’s studied other religions, practiced sciences and watched with interest the documentaries that spoke of ancient aliens visiting their planet. His choice to pursue the ministry had not been blind or indoctrinated into him, it had been, and always would be, his calling.
He does not believe that these invaders are evidence that his faith is wrong; they may be proof that there has always been truth to the scriptures. Maybe the message had been mishandled over the centuries, but he knows that a God still exists and means for humanity to thrive on this planet.
Like the junkie that twenty-four hour news has made most American’s, he keeps the radio with him to listen for updates as he moves back into the church.
The doors remain wide open without a single person sitting in the pews or kneeling at the altar. Even the candles to honor lost loved ones remain dark with none having been lit since he had extinguished them for safety before going to bed for the night.
He looks to the pulpit with his notes and Bible upon the stand and goes to the utility closet for the broom.
With nothing of use to do with an empty church, he sweeps because idle hands still invite the devil’s work. He moves methodically from the front so that he can chase the dirt out the door; dividing his focus between the movements of the broom and the sounds on the radio.
He has no idea how long the man stood in the doorway before Daniel realizes that he’s no longer alone.
The man is silhouetted by the setting sun pouring in the opening, his posture is tense and uncomfortable; his head turned toward the radio as he listens quietly to the broadcast. By stature alone, Dan knows that this is not one of his regular parishioners. He would remember such an impressive figure.
“Can I help you?” he sets the broom aside, flicks the radio off and moves toward the man; making sure that his tones offers that help and welcomes the stranger to come further inside.
“I’m sorry, Father,” the man says, moving from the door into the muted light straining through the stained glass windows. “I just…needed someone to talk to, I guess.”
Daniel blinks in surprise as he recognizes the man moving closer.
“Clark,” he offers his hand in welcome. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you since…”
He trails off remembering the somber services that he’s overseen for the burial of Jonathan Kent; one of his first acts as Pastor to this community.
Clark smiles weakly at the reminder as he grips Daniel’s hand and gives it a firm shake.
“I’m sorry, I don’t remember…”
“Daniel,” he introduces, familiar with having to go through the process a few times when he first meets a person in times of loss or struggle. “Daniel Leone. Please,” he reluctantly pulls his hand free from the enveloping heat of the man’s grasp and waves it toward the empty pews; “have a seat. I’ll be happy to sit with you.”
Clark lowers his broad frame to a worn bench and folds his hands together to dangle between his loosely splayed legs. His muscles had developed even more in the years since their first and only previous meeting and Daniel tries not to stare this time as he had when he’d met Clark Kent. He props himself against a nearby pew so that he can face the man without invading his personal space.
“What’s on your mind?”
“I don’t know where to start,” Clark stares down at his hands for a moment.
“Wherever you want,” Daniel pointedly focuses on that downturned head specifically not to stare at those same hands.
“That ship that appeared last night?” he looks up and Daniel nods to encourage more. “I’m the one they’re looking for.”
Daniel takes the news with a gulp of surprise and braces his hands more firmly against the back of the pew to keep that visible gulp his only response.
“Do you know…why they want you?”
“No,” he shakes his head. “I’ve lived here my whole life. The Kents raised me as their own. Martha and Jon made me put on my Sunday best and come to this very church every Sunday for sixteen years. They never even told me that I wasn’t theirs until I was eight and I was thirteen when pa showed me the ship that they’d found me in. I never understood until then that I … wasn’t from this Earth.”
Daniel nods slowly, trying not to draw comparisons between scripture and the story that Clark is telling.
“I believed myself to be the last of my kind, but this General Zod… Even if I surrender, there’s no guarantee he’ll keep his word, but if there’s a chance that I can save Earth by turning myself in, shouldn’t I take it?”
Daniel feels his struggle and inner turmoil and wishes that he could lift the burden but few have ever had such weight upon them.
“’Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial,’” he muses, leaning to place his hand on Clark’s shoulder. “You want me to make this choice for you, but I cannot. You may well be right and this Zod means to destroy us regardless of your actions. I’m not going to tell you to give your life over to him on the chance that it’s truly all that he wants from this world.”
The shoulders under his hand slump forward as Clark goes back to studying his hands. For once, Daniel hates the teachings of his faith that have ingrained in him this instinct to give non-answers to help guide those in turmoil toward their own conclusions with the faith of God.
“What does your gut tell you?” he asks as he pulls his hand back.
“Zod can’t be trusted,” Clark answers with absolute conviction. “Problem is, I’m not sure the people of Earth can be either,” he lifts his gaze to meet Daniel’s.
Daniel has no answer for that. He would like to have faith in mankind, but for all the faith he has there have been no inside these walls today to share it with. Only Clark.
“Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith first,” Daniel pushes to his feet and says as Clark moves to bolt. “The trust part comes later.”
Clark pauses in the doorway as Daniel had hoped that he would.
“You,” he looks back, blue eyes thoughtful, “you’re not afraid of me.”
“No,” Daniel says, even though it had not been a question.
Clark reaches out and pulls the door closed, the seldom used lock clicking audibly into place as he shuts them in together.
“Still not afraid?” he asks, standing straight and tall in the shadows.
“No, Clark,” Daniel moves into a beam of light and stands waiting for the next move. “’Listen to me, you who know right from wrong you who cherish my law in your hearts. Do not be afraid of people’s scorn, nor fear their insults.’ Isaiah 51:7. You said you attended services here in your youth. I don't know what stopped your coming, but these scriptures should still be within you, somewhere. Remember that God has a plan-”
“You still have faith in your God with…this?” Clark looks toward the ceiling, implying the spaceship in their atmosphere.
“More so now than ever. ‘We faced conflict from every direction, with battles on the outside and fear on the inside. But God, who encourages those who are discouraged, encouraged us by the arrival of Titus. His presence was a joy.’ 2 Corinthians, 7:5-6.”
“Is this common with priests? To always have a verse available to recite?”
“I’m only a Reverend and I’ll admit I’ve cheated,” Daniel grins and moves to the pulpit to collect his notes. “I’ve a whole sermon here, written for…well, for you, I guess. You’re not the first from the Heaven’s to have lived among us and been asked to make sure sacrifice for humanity.”
“I’m not Christ or Jesus or God,” Clark strides forward, frowning at the notes. “This,” he skims Daniel’s handwriting, “this isn’t me.”
“Then what is?” Daniel takes the crumpled papers from Clark’s fist.
Clark sighs and turns to sit on the front pew.
“I don’t know. I was raised here, raised human, but I’m not. But I’m not one of them, either.”
Daniel moves to squat down in front of the pew, reaching out to place a consoling hand on Clark’s knee.
“I don’t see you as a God, Clark, or an alien. I’ve met your family, know that you have a good heart and know that you will find the right way through this. You are a good man.”
“Does a good man surrender or fight?”
“You may need to do both. When the time comes, you’ll know.”
“How can you know that?”
“I don’t know it, Clark,” Daniel rubs his hand briefly over the man’s knee before he shifts to sit on the pew beside him. “I believe it.”
“I wish that I could have that faith. All I’ve ever heard is the greatness that I have within me, tempered with warnings about how I have to manage that greatness. I met with my natural father recently, with his consciousness actually, and he told me that I can be a bridge between our races. That he had put the hope of Krypton into me. What do I do with that? With any of this?”
“You may be uncomfortable with the parallels, but think of the scriptures. You may not be Jesus, but think of how it must have been for him to grow up and live knowing that he was the son of God, destined to die for the sake of the people that he had been living among? I’m sure he had the same doubts and conflicts that you are having before he died; as he died. The doubt is natural. Your mind is in turmoil right now, your soul in conflict. When this chaos settles, your heart will guide you to what is right.”
“But who will it be right for?”
“Don’t worry about that,” Daniel turns toward him, again putting his hand out to touch because touch conveys empathy and comfort. “You’ll never be able to act if you’re paralyzed with indecision about why to act. You have to stop thinking and just do.”
“Just do it?” Clark asks, his lip suddenly quirking upward in humor as he looks downward.
Daniel follows his gaze and goes still as he sees his hand stroking Clark’s thigh.
“I am so sorry,” Daniel hopes that he isn’t blushing as he pulls his hand away.
“Don’t be,” Clark reaches out to touch his wrist. “It’s…nice,” he urges Daniel’s hand back to his thigh. “Touch isn’t something that I’ve had a lot of. Mom’s always hugged me and dad would pat me on the back, but when I realized just how strong I was, I became afraid to touch them.”
“Are you saying that you’re a…” Daniel looks at the gorgeous man beside him and boggles at the thought that he could be untouched. “Not that it’s a bad thing,” he rushes to say, turning more toward the man beside him and unintentionally slipping his hand up to Clark’s crotch.
“I’m not a virgin,” Clark says, pushing into Daniel’s hand and moving to curl his broad fingers around Daniel’s neck to draw his face close.
Daniel can only stare in shock as the man’s mouth presses against his own, five o’clock shadow prickling against Daniel’s clean shaven face. His mouth stays closed and unresponsive at the tentative brush of their lips.
“Just do,” Clark draws back to breathe the words over Daniel’s mouth.
The words send a jolt of want through him as the breath tickles over his flesh.
Daniel is no virgin, either. While homosexuality is not universally accepted by Lutherans, Daniel’s church, like many now in North America, preaches tolerance for same-gendered partnerships. He has found no one, male or female, that he yet wishes to share his life with, but he knows the pleasure to be found in the strong arms of another man. And no arms are ever likely to be stronger than Clark Kent’s, given his extra-terrestrial biology.
He thinks for a moment about the rights and wrongs of this; not caring about Clark’s place of birth because everything about the man is so male that nothing feels alien or wrong about this physically. He worries that he is taking advantage of a lost and wandering soul. Then Clark’s hand tangles in his hair and his strong grip pulls Daniel’s head back as their kiss deepens and Daniel is reminded that this is no child, damaged youth or fragile spirit. This is a person of greatness and, be it Earth or Krypton or somehow both, he is destined to save the world.
He would think himself unworthy of intimacy with such a person, but he takes his own advice and simply acts; twisting to lay on the hard wooden pew so he can pull Clark down on him. The bench creaks beneath them as Clark puts his full weight on it. He’s heavy and broad, pushing against Daniel with far too many clothes between them.
“We shouldn’t,” he gasps when Clark lets him up to breathe. “Not here, my pl-”
“Yes. Here,” Clark argues. “Show me your faith and pray I find some, too.”
That somehow spurs them from the pew to the floor, moving to kneel at the altar. Daniel looks up at the image of Christ in the window behind the pulpit; his arms wide spread to embrace the congregation.
For Christ's love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died*, Daniel cannot help but think of the scriptures as he looks upon the image of the first to have died for mankind and wonders if he is with another about to make that same sacrifice.
“’If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal,’” Daniel rises and moves to his pulpit for the anointing oil as Clark remains kneeling and curiously watching. “’If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing,’” he continues his recitation as he moves back to stand before the kneeling man.
“’Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails’” as he speaks these words, he pulls the tab from his collar and begins to unbutton his shirt. “’But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears,’” he leaves his shirt gaping over and bends to begin on Clark’s buttons.
“’When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me,’” he pushes the shirt from those impossibly broad shoulders as Clark seems content to take this sermon in. “’Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known,’” he kneels before Clark and reaches for the oil. “’And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love**.’”
Daniel dips his fingers in the oil and touches his middle and index fingers to Clark’s temple, watching the man’s eyes drift closed as a drop of liquid rolls down between his eyes. Daniel re-wets his fingers and places the dab against the man’s sternum to complete the length of the cross before repeating the process to anoint each shoulder and complete baptismal rite.
“’Child of God, you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever,’" he bows his head to press a chaste kiss to the skin just above the slick spot on Clark’s forehead. “This is the faith that I have and give to you,” he whispers before brushes against the man’s lips. “From Earth or Krypton, you are a child of God now. Trust in Him as He trusts in you because He is more than this; more than us. From Him we all have come and through Him we all shall live eternally. Whatever happens for you this day, He will grant you with His love as I put in you my faith; my hope. You will do no wrong.”
A drop rolls down his cheek and it is not the excess of drying oil that has already fallen from his face. Daniel brushes the tear away and waits for Clark to make the next move, not wanting to push this physically when he may have just gone too far spiritually.
After a moment of stillness, the man’s body quakes with the release of an unsteady breath and he reaches blindly to take hold of Daniel’s wrist.
“I’ll try not to fail you,” he promises as he presses his mouth to a pulse point. “I will not betray your trust.”
“I know,” Daniel says, with unshakable confidence.
Clark tips his head forward to press against the bared strip of Daniel’s chest.
“Thank you.”
The words are more felt in the movement against his skin than heard with the quietness that Clark speaks. Daniel wraps his arms around the man, embracing him on the altar; offering shelter and solace with lustful thoughts fading as he assumes that moment to have passed.
Clark’s arms curl loosely around his waist, drawing Daniel closer. He turns his head to press an ear to the steady beat of Daniel’s heart and the rasp of stubble against his skin sends a shiver through him. He shifts so that his erection won’t poke so tellingly against the other man and ruin this moment. He feels, though, against his hip, the press of Clark’s erection; a hard, thick length pushing at the clothing between them.
Daniel gasps, surprised and delighted by this evidence that the arousal has not passed between them.
“Clark,” he draws back to say, unsure if he intends to caution or encourage.
The hands around his waist drop down to grip his ass and further speech is stopped by Clark’s tongue thrusting into his mouth. His own fingers flex to dig into the man’s strong shoulders and the muscle seems to quiver under his tight hold.
Clark’s fingers attempt to slip beneath the waist of Daniel’s pants, but the tightness of his belts prevents those large digits from gaining passage. His hands move to the front to release the buckle and unfasten Daniels trousers to push the clothes away. Daniel shrugs out of his shirt and lowers his own hands to the zipper of Clark’s jeans.
“Are you sure?” he asks, tab gripped between thumb and forefinger as he hesitates to go further.
“Show me that I’m not a monster,” Clark thrusts against Daniel’s hand. “Prove that I don’t have to be feared; that everyone on this planet does not hate me.”
“I’m just one of your many supporters, Clark,” Daniel allows his palm to flatten along the length of the man’s penis. “I don’t see how this is helping.”
“I need a moment to not think,” he moves to unzip his own pants and shifts to move Daniel’s hand to his flesh. “You’re right, Father,” he groans as Daniel’s fingers wrap around his length. “I just need to act.”
Daniel should correct him, ask to be called by his given name and not his title, but there is something erotically taboo about the man addressing him as ‘Father’ in these circumstances. Some may think this sacrilege or blasphemy, but it feels as sacred and reverent as his Ordination.
Through the stained glass windows surrounding them light shines down upon them, the golden rays making the images of Christ glow. Daniel imagines Him looking down upon them with understanding and, quite possible, complete support.
The world is in peril, both their fates uncertain; they need this.
Clark’s hands turn him and Daniel moves at the man’s bidding to bend over the altar. He shudders at a nip to the back of his neck and digs his fingers into the floor as he watches the chalice of anointing oil move as Clark draws it toward him.
He presses his forehead to the ground and twists to watch as Clark’s fingers dip into the oil. He bites into his lip to keep from crying out the Lord’s name as a warm hand spreads the cheeks of his ass and those slick fingers trail down the divide to circle the pucker of his entrance. Daniel breathes deep and braces, anticipating the push and stretch of those digits inside him.
The fingers just skate over the sensitive flesh, leaving slick residue as they move further down to press against Daniel’s perineum. The pressure sends a jolt of pleasure through him, making him scramble for a better grip on the polished wood of the altar. Then Clark’s hand tugs at his sac before moving past it to curl around his dick and Daniel’s breath escapes in a shuddering rush.
“Oh, God,” he gasps, as those slick fingers curl around him and stroke his length.
He could come just from that; a grasp so tight and slick and hot after months of abstinence. While he thrusts into that grip as it moves from tip to base, he feels more slickness spreading around his hole. His mind identifies Clark’s right hand around his dick and Clark’s left hand still spreading Daniel open, leaving only one thing to be pushing at his entrance.
Clark’s tongue.
It rasps along his crack before flicking around the puckered flesh. Then it curls to a point and begins to push past the resistance of his sphincter while Daniel tries not to collapse. The deliberately tight circle of Clark’s fingers around the base of his cock keeps Daniel from coming and he is embarrassingly grateful for that because his balls are drawn up in anticipation of release. He would be spilling on the altar and melting into his own wet spot were it not for the man’s strong hold.
He shakes; squeezing his eyes shut and groaning as the tongue wriggles its way inside him. He feels his cock leaking at the stimulation. He spreads his legs further and pushes back on to the invader for more. The tongue pushes deeper and furls inside; twisting more nimbly that fingers ever could.
Daniel claws at the floor. He wants to beg; needs to have more inside him, but all he can manage are moans and groans mixed with more cries to God and Jesus than he should ever utter outside the context of a sermon.
Clark’s mouth withdraws along with the left hand from his backside, but before Daniel can do more than whimper at the loss, slick fingers are pushing inside him. One finger stretches his hole, two cause a slight burn and three of those big fingers are a pleasure bordering on pain as they work to loosen the muscle for the even larger penetration of Clark’s cock.
“Can you take me?” Clark asks, his jaw scratching along Daniel’s shoulder as his husky voice asks in Daniel’s ear.
“Yes,” Daniel groans, feeling the press of that cock against his buttocks as Clark leans over him.
Or I’ll gladly die trying.
The fingers withdraw from him with a slick pop and he then hears the wet slap of Clark coating his penis with oil.
Daniel wishes that he see this extraordinary male nude and preparing himself for sex, but orgasm is too close for him to even risk sneaking a peek. He knows that he may ever have chance to see this again, but he need not witness with his eyes to know the wondrous things that happen on this Earth.
He will feel the presence of this man having been inside him as surely as he has known himself graced by God in the past.
Knowing that is all that he needs for his faith to stay strong.
The chalice empties over him, an unexpectedly cool wash of slick fluid as Clark finishes his preparations. He moves his knees to the inside of Daniels and carefully nudges them further apart to open him more.
Daniel’s thighs quiver at the strains. He lowers he chest to the altar and moves his hands back to take hold of his cheeks and stretch his ass as much as he can.
The blunt head of Clark’s bare penis presses against Daniels hole. He thinks he should worry about the unprotected aspect of this joining; fear for his soul at his debauched sprawl upon the altar, but all he does is relish the wet push of spilled oil that precedes Clark’s entry.
His grips himself with bruising force at the pressure and gives a controlled exhalation to ease the tension in his muscles. The head pops in and Clark puts his hand atop one of Daniel’s; his big thumb giving a soothing stroke to the skin stretched around his shaft.
“More,” Daniel’s voice breaks on the word and his control nearly follows when that thumb crooks and the tip catches on the rim of his hole.
Clark does not push the thumb in further, though, he slides it away and moves his hands to grip Daniel’s hips. He bends himself over Daniel’s back; his chest flattening to the contours of Daniel’s spine as he rolls how hips and slowly glides deeper. Daniel bites his lip as the penetration increases by only an inch or two and Clark bites down on his shoulder as he grinds downward to work in more of his length. His left hand leaves Daniel’s hip and slaps down on the floor beside his head.
“I can’t-” the man nearly growls as his fingers dig in with enough force to break the wooden plank under his hand.
“Don’t hold back,” Daniel says, opening his eyes and twisting to a painful angle to look back to Clark’s eyes.
Something flashes in that startling blue gaze and he shifts to press a fleeting kiss to Daniel’s slack lips before rearing back to thrust the rest of the way in.
The rush is enough to make Daniel think that he might pass out; so hard, so deep, so fast. He’s buffeted inside and out with the overwhelming feel of this man. He doesn’t know if he can take it; he isn’t sure that he can stand it to end.
Clark’s pelvis pushes against the backs of his hands and the man is seated as deeply inside Daniel as any can go. He pauses in that moment, inhaling audibly for control while Daniel trembles. His breath gushes out and his hips undulate to draw his cock out at a slower rate. After withdrawing half his length, he drives back in with a force that scoots Daniel forward on the floor.
Clark’s bracing arm stops Daniel from going too far and he turns his face toward it to kiss the forearm in thanks.
The next thrust is even harder and Daniel finds himself biting into the flexing muscle of Clark’s arm. The man above him groans and shudders at the bite, but before Daniel can rear back or think of apologizing, teeth lock down on the juncture of his neck and shoulder.
The next thrust slaps Clark’s abdomen against Daniel’s upturned ass. Daniel bites harder and so does Clark.
The rhythm quickly turns to a relentless pounding that makes Daniel want to beg for release; from both the pain and pleasure of the fucking. Instead of voicing a plea, though, he bites until he tastes blood and feels a trickle from his own shoulder to indicate that Clark has broken skin, too. The blood on his lips tastes as metallic as his own and Daniel knows that regardless the planet of origin; they are of the same kind.
Clark’s right hand moves to wrap around Daniel’s neglected cock, engulfing it in a grip that makes Daniel throw back his head and nearly scream at the friction. It takes only two quick pulls of that hand to bring him over the edge and his body shatters with the force of his orgasm.
He feels a sticky splash over his torso before Clark’s hand moves to catch his release. When the shudders stop and Daniel can expel no more, Clark draws his hand away, pulls his cock out then covers it with Daniel’s come before he shoves himself back inside.
A thrust against his prostrate makes Daniel’s dick twitch in over-sensitized reaction and he pulls his hands from between them to claw at the floor for stability as Clark begins to lose control.
With Daniel attempting to brace himself now, Clark pulls his arm back and grips Daniel’s hips tightly; tight enough to bruise with a possibility of fracturing to the bone. It doesn’t hurt, though, as all he can feel is the smack and recoil of Clark’s pelvis against his ass.
If he could, he’d come again from the unending stimulation, but his body is a long way from recovering to manage another climax. His cock dribbles, though, a sticky stream that puddles on the floor beneath him.
The thrusts speed up and lose any kind of rhythm, taking on the telltale jerks of a male body tensing to orgasm. His hands tighten, leaving marks that Daniel thinks he’ll likely bear forever, and he drives in one last time before grinding impossibly deeper as his body unleashes.
The feel of that heat gushing inside him is a relief that spreading through him like fire. It leaves him weaker than his own orgasm and with one final shudder, his arms give out. Only Clark’s hold on him keeps him from tumbling to a pile on the floor.
After the man shudders through the last of his climax, his fingers unfurl and Daniel flops to the floor. He rolls to his back, panting for breath; feeling the sweat on his skin and soaking his hair. The altar is unforgiving under him, but his body feels liquid enough that he could sleep just like this.
Clark remains kneeling, bowed forward as he breathes and shudders through his own aftershocks. Daniel forces his heavy lids open so that he can finally see this man in all his splendor. And it is splendor.
Ivory skin stretches over mounds of muscle, dark hairs covering his arms and torso. Sweat gleams on him, giving his body a glowing appearance in the waning rays of sunlight filling the church. His pose prevents Daniel from seeing everything, but the lush curve of his ass and the thickness of his thigh are enough to imprint in Daniel’s memory forever.
He’ll never know another like this.
The passions cool between them and Clark stirs first to look for his shirt to begin wiping himself down. Daniel just collapses back and closes his eyes, too spent to care about his own filth or nudity.
He senses Clark rising and listens to him pulling his pants back into place. Daniel keeps his eyes stubbornly closed to avoid this awkward scene as the reality of their actions sinks in. He feels no shame, but doesn’t want to see whether Clark does in the aftermath.
After several minutes of silence, he starts at the feel of a rough cloth dragging over the sticky skin of his torso. He opens his eyes to see Clark beside him, idly wiping away the residue of his climax. Clark’s hand stops when he realizes that he has Daniel’s attention and he drops his soiled shirt to put his bare hand over Daniel’s thudding heart.
“Thank you,” he says, meeting Daniel’s gaze steadily. “I know what I need to do now.”
Daniel blinks up at him as Clark bends to press one last kiss to Daniel’s mouth. He lifts a hand to curl around the man’s thick neck, clinging to what will likely be his final taste of Clark’s lips. He lets go, though, when Clark pulls away.
He pushes himself to sit up and watch as Clark moves down the aisle toward the exit. His torso is bare, his shirt left behind in Daniel’s lap as he props himself up. Clark unlocks the door and puts his hand on the knob to leave.
“Clark,” Daniel calls out at the last moment.
The man pauses to look back with evident surprise at his being stopped.
“When the dust of all this settles, I expect to see you at my next sermon.”
Clark huffs out a laugh at the unexpected order and his mouth curls upward with a smile.
“I wouldn’t miss it, Daniel,” he promises before giving a nod and leaving the church.
I hope neither of us do, he thinks with a sigh as he pushes himself to gather his clothes and flee to his office in case someone else actually ventures in today.
He dresses slowly then tips his head back to quietly beseech his God that He see them through this time of darkness. He moves slowly back to the main room to clean up, feeling the phantom of Clark with every step he takes. He collects the emptied chalice and returns it to the pulpit to be refilled later with fresh oil. He uses Clark’s abandoned shirt to wipe the floor then he carefully folds the damp material and places it beside the chalice to be taken home and washed. He walks past the silent radio to pick the broom back up to finish sweeping.
He feels no compulsion to turn the noise back on for continuous updates on what’s happening in the skies above.
He knows who the Kryptonian among them is and he knows that Clark Kent will not stand idly by if General Zod intends to harm the people of Earth.
Father Daniel Leone may be alone in his church, alone in his faith, but he will not be alone once the world sees some of the greatness that he knows to be in Clark.
For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.
~*~
*2 Corinthians 5:14
**1 Corinthians 13
Warnings: explicit m/m sex, potentially blasphemous theorizing and comparisons, unsafe sexual practices, inappropriate use of a church altar. The author is going to hell; if you believe in such things, don't read more.
NOTES: Many details; such as the priest's name, the church's denomination and some dialog in this piece are drawn from the novelization of the movie. There are aspects, though, such as the church being in Smallville and Clark having had a previous meeting with the priest, I have manipulated as fanfiction so wonderfully allows us to do. This is a lot more religious than I originally intended, but the muses were on a roll. No disrespect is meant to any of the faithful and I apologize for any errors in rites or recitation; I've not attended services myself for several years
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~*~*~
It is a voice addressing the whole of the world from the skies above.
The recording repeats over television and radio.
“My name is General Zod. I come from Krypton, a world far from yours. We have journeyed across an ocean of stars to reach you. The message we bring is one of great urgency. For some time, your world has sheltered one of our citizens. We request that you return this individual to our custody. For reasons unknown, he has chosen to keep his existence a secret from you. He will have made efforts to blend in. He will look like you. But he is not one of you.”
The rest of it all; the thinly veiled threat for compliance registers with Father Daniel Leone, but those are the words that resound with him.
Through a restless night and into a new day, his mind replays the words of this alien and, no matter his teachings, he cannot help but wonder if this same thing had happened before on Earth.
He leaves his parish house and enters the Trinity Lutheran Church at first light. The pews are empty, the sanctuary silent. He had thought people would clamor for spiritual guidance in the face of this crisis, as they often did under the threat of an end to times, but there is no one seeking God in this place.
He finds himself unable to blame them. This isn’t covered in the Bible, they must all think, but Dan opens his worn copy of the scripture and he thinks that this may be exactly where the Bible came from.
A voice from the Heavens speaking to people.
Jesus, the essence of God instilled into a human shape to live among them and die for their sins.
This alien who has been living among them, are they damnation or salvation for humanity?
While Daniel is shaken and fearful like all citizens of Smallville, he sees this as a repetition of history and he has faith. He has hope.
He prepares a sermon to speak of such hope, paging through for verses to cite from the life of Christ upon Earth, but no one comes for his morning service. He practices the sermon in the empty hours waiting for parishioners to counsel, working on his inflection to convey the right amounts of hope and conviction so that his faith may be transferred to the doubters.
He eats a quiet and simple meal in his office, listening to the news reporting the status of the alien ship and theorizing about the identity of the alien among them.
Daniel has always been more open-minded to his fellow theologians in seminary. He’s studied other religions, practiced sciences and watched with interest the documentaries that spoke of ancient aliens visiting their planet. His choice to pursue the ministry had not been blind or indoctrinated into him, it had been, and always would be, his calling.
He does not believe that these invaders are evidence that his faith is wrong; they may be proof that there has always been truth to the scriptures. Maybe the message had been mishandled over the centuries, but he knows that a God still exists and means for humanity to thrive on this planet.
Like the junkie that twenty-four hour news has made most American’s, he keeps the radio with him to listen for updates as he moves back into the church.
The doors remain wide open without a single person sitting in the pews or kneeling at the altar. Even the candles to honor lost loved ones remain dark with none having been lit since he had extinguished them for safety before going to bed for the night.
He looks to the pulpit with his notes and Bible upon the stand and goes to the utility closet for the broom.
With nothing of use to do with an empty church, he sweeps because idle hands still invite the devil’s work. He moves methodically from the front so that he can chase the dirt out the door; dividing his focus between the movements of the broom and the sounds on the radio.
He has no idea how long the man stood in the doorway before Daniel realizes that he’s no longer alone.
The man is silhouetted by the setting sun pouring in the opening, his posture is tense and uncomfortable; his head turned toward the radio as he listens quietly to the broadcast. By stature alone, Dan knows that this is not one of his regular parishioners. He would remember such an impressive figure.
“Can I help you?” he sets the broom aside, flicks the radio off and moves toward the man; making sure that his tones offers that help and welcomes the stranger to come further inside.
“I’m sorry, Father,” the man says, moving from the door into the muted light straining through the stained glass windows. “I just…needed someone to talk to, I guess.”
Daniel blinks in surprise as he recognizes the man moving closer.
“Clark,” he offers his hand in welcome. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you since…”
He trails off remembering the somber services that he’s overseen for the burial of Jonathan Kent; one of his first acts as Pastor to this community.
Clark smiles weakly at the reminder as he grips Daniel’s hand and gives it a firm shake.
“I’m sorry, I don’t remember…”
“Daniel,” he introduces, familiar with having to go through the process a few times when he first meets a person in times of loss or struggle. “Daniel Leone. Please,” he reluctantly pulls his hand free from the enveloping heat of the man’s grasp and waves it toward the empty pews; “have a seat. I’ll be happy to sit with you.”
Clark lowers his broad frame to a worn bench and folds his hands together to dangle between his loosely splayed legs. His muscles had developed even more in the years since their first and only previous meeting and Daniel tries not to stare this time as he had when he’d met Clark Kent. He props himself against a nearby pew so that he can face the man without invading his personal space.
“What’s on your mind?”
“I don’t know where to start,” Clark stares down at his hands for a moment.
“Wherever you want,” Daniel pointedly focuses on that downturned head specifically not to stare at those same hands.
“That ship that appeared last night?” he looks up and Daniel nods to encourage more. “I’m the one they’re looking for.”
Daniel takes the news with a gulp of surprise and braces his hands more firmly against the back of the pew to keep that visible gulp his only response.
“Do you know…why they want you?”
“No,” he shakes his head. “I’ve lived here my whole life. The Kents raised me as their own. Martha and Jon made me put on my Sunday best and come to this very church every Sunday for sixteen years. They never even told me that I wasn’t theirs until I was eight and I was thirteen when pa showed me the ship that they’d found me in. I never understood until then that I … wasn’t from this Earth.”
Daniel nods slowly, trying not to draw comparisons between scripture and the story that Clark is telling.
“I believed myself to be the last of my kind, but this General Zod… Even if I surrender, there’s no guarantee he’ll keep his word, but if there’s a chance that I can save Earth by turning myself in, shouldn’t I take it?”
Daniel feels his struggle and inner turmoil and wishes that he could lift the burden but few have ever had such weight upon them.
“’Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial,’” he muses, leaning to place his hand on Clark’s shoulder. “You want me to make this choice for you, but I cannot. You may well be right and this Zod means to destroy us regardless of your actions. I’m not going to tell you to give your life over to him on the chance that it’s truly all that he wants from this world.”
The shoulders under his hand slump forward as Clark goes back to studying his hands. For once, Daniel hates the teachings of his faith that have ingrained in him this instinct to give non-answers to help guide those in turmoil toward their own conclusions with the faith of God.
“What does your gut tell you?” he asks as he pulls his hand back.
“Zod can’t be trusted,” Clark answers with absolute conviction. “Problem is, I’m not sure the people of Earth can be either,” he lifts his gaze to meet Daniel’s.
Daniel has no answer for that. He would like to have faith in mankind, but for all the faith he has there have been no inside these walls today to share it with. Only Clark.
“Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith first,” Daniel pushes to his feet and says as Clark moves to bolt. “The trust part comes later.”
Clark pauses in the doorway as Daniel had hoped that he would.
“You,” he looks back, blue eyes thoughtful, “you’re not afraid of me.”
“No,” Daniel says, even though it had not been a question.
Clark reaches out and pulls the door closed, the seldom used lock clicking audibly into place as he shuts them in together.
“Still not afraid?” he asks, standing straight and tall in the shadows.
“No, Clark,” Daniel moves into a beam of light and stands waiting for the next move. “’Listen to me, you who know right from wrong you who cherish my law in your hearts. Do not be afraid of people’s scorn, nor fear their insults.’ Isaiah 51:7. You said you attended services here in your youth. I don't know what stopped your coming, but these scriptures should still be within you, somewhere. Remember that God has a plan-”
“You still have faith in your God with…this?” Clark looks toward the ceiling, implying the spaceship in their atmosphere.
“More so now than ever. ‘We faced conflict from every direction, with battles on the outside and fear on the inside. But God, who encourages those who are discouraged, encouraged us by the arrival of Titus. His presence was a joy.’ 2 Corinthians, 7:5-6.”
“Is this common with priests? To always have a verse available to recite?”
“I’m only a Reverend and I’ll admit I’ve cheated,” Daniel grins and moves to the pulpit to collect his notes. “I’ve a whole sermon here, written for…well, for you, I guess. You’re not the first from the Heaven’s to have lived among us and been asked to make sure sacrifice for humanity.”
“I’m not Christ or Jesus or God,” Clark strides forward, frowning at the notes. “This,” he skims Daniel’s handwriting, “this isn’t me.”
“Then what is?” Daniel takes the crumpled papers from Clark’s fist.
Clark sighs and turns to sit on the front pew.
“I don’t know. I was raised here, raised human, but I’m not. But I’m not one of them, either.”
Daniel moves to squat down in front of the pew, reaching out to place a consoling hand on Clark’s knee.
“I don’t see you as a God, Clark, or an alien. I’ve met your family, know that you have a good heart and know that you will find the right way through this. You are a good man.”
“Does a good man surrender or fight?”
“You may need to do both. When the time comes, you’ll know.”
“How can you know that?”
“I don’t know it, Clark,” Daniel rubs his hand briefly over the man’s knee before he shifts to sit on the pew beside him. “I believe it.”
“I wish that I could have that faith. All I’ve ever heard is the greatness that I have within me, tempered with warnings about how I have to manage that greatness. I met with my natural father recently, with his consciousness actually, and he told me that I can be a bridge between our races. That he had put the hope of Krypton into me. What do I do with that? With any of this?”
“You may be uncomfortable with the parallels, but think of the scriptures. You may not be Jesus, but think of how it must have been for him to grow up and live knowing that he was the son of God, destined to die for the sake of the people that he had been living among? I’m sure he had the same doubts and conflicts that you are having before he died; as he died. The doubt is natural. Your mind is in turmoil right now, your soul in conflict. When this chaos settles, your heart will guide you to what is right.”
“But who will it be right for?”
“Don’t worry about that,” Daniel turns toward him, again putting his hand out to touch because touch conveys empathy and comfort. “You’ll never be able to act if you’re paralyzed with indecision about why to act. You have to stop thinking and just do.”
“Just do it?” Clark asks, his lip suddenly quirking upward in humor as he looks downward.
Daniel follows his gaze and goes still as he sees his hand stroking Clark’s thigh.
“I am so sorry,” Daniel hopes that he isn’t blushing as he pulls his hand away.
“Don’t be,” Clark reaches out to touch his wrist. “It’s…nice,” he urges Daniel’s hand back to his thigh. “Touch isn’t something that I’ve had a lot of. Mom’s always hugged me and dad would pat me on the back, but when I realized just how strong I was, I became afraid to touch them.”
“Are you saying that you’re a…” Daniel looks at the gorgeous man beside him and boggles at the thought that he could be untouched. “Not that it’s a bad thing,” he rushes to say, turning more toward the man beside him and unintentionally slipping his hand up to Clark’s crotch.
“I’m not a virgin,” Clark says, pushing into Daniel’s hand and moving to curl his broad fingers around Daniel’s neck to draw his face close.
Daniel can only stare in shock as the man’s mouth presses against his own, five o’clock shadow prickling against Daniel’s clean shaven face. His mouth stays closed and unresponsive at the tentative brush of their lips.
“Just do,” Clark draws back to breathe the words over Daniel’s mouth.
The words send a jolt of want through him as the breath tickles over his flesh.
Daniel is no virgin, either. While homosexuality is not universally accepted by Lutherans, Daniel’s church, like many now in North America, preaches tolerance for same-gendered partnerships. He has found no one, male or female, that he yet wishes to share his life with, but he knows the pleasure to be found in the strong arms of another man. And no arms are ever likely to be stronger than Clark Kent’s, given his extra-terrestrial biology.
He thinks for a moment about the rights and wrongs of this; not caring about Clark’s place of birth because everything about the man is so male that nothing feels alien or wrong about this physically. He worries that he is taking advantage of a lost and wandering soul. Then Clark’s hand tangles in his hair and his strong grip pulls Daniel’s head back as their kiss deepens and Daniel is reminded that this is no child, damaged youth or fragile spirit. This is a person of greatness and, be it Earth or Krypton or somehow both, he is destined to save the world.
He would think himself unworthy of intimacy with such a person, but he takes his own advice and simply acts; twisting to lay on the hard wooden pew so he can pull Clark down on him. The bench creaks beneath them as Clark puts his full weight on it. He’s heavy and broad, pushing against Daniel with far too many clothes between them.
“We shouldn’t,” he gasps when Clark lets him up to breathe. “Not here, my pl-”
“Yes. Here,” Clark argues. “Show me your faith and pray I find some, too.”
That somehow spurs them from the pew to the floor, moving to kneel at the altar. Daniel looks up at the image of Christ in the window behind the pulpit; his arms wide spread to embrace the congregation.
For Christ's love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died*, Daniel cannot help but think of the scriptures as he looks upon the image of the first to have died for mankind and wonders if he is with another about to make that same sacrifice.
“’If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal,’” Daniel rises and moves to his pulpit for the anointing oil as Clark remains kneeling and curiously watching. “’If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing,’” he continues his recitation as he moves back to stand before the kneeling man.
“’Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails’” as he speaks these words, he pulls the tab from his collar and begins to unbutton his shirt. “’But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears,’” he leaves his shirt gaping over and bends to begin on Clark’s buttons.
“’When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me,’” he pushes the shirt from those impossibly broad shoulders as Clark seems content to take this sermon in. “’Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known,’” he kneels before Clark and reaches for the oil. “’And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love**.’”
Daniel dips his fingers in the oil and touches his middle and index fingers to Clark’s temple, watching the man’s eyes drift closed as a drop of liquid rolls down between his eyes. Daniel re-wets his fingers and places the dab against the man’s sternum to complete the length of the cross before repeating the process to anoint each shoulder and complete baptismal rite.
“’Child of God, you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever,’" he bows his head to press a chaste kiss to the skin just above the slick spot on Clark’s forehead. “This is the faith that I have and give to you,” he whispers before brushes against the man’s lips. “From Earth or Krypton, you are a child of God now. Trust in Him as He trusts in you because He is more than this; more than us. From Him we all have come and through Him we all shall live eternally. Whatever happens for you this day, He will grant you with His love as I put in you my faith; my hope. You will do no wrong.”
A drop rolls down his cheek and it is not the excess of drying oil that has already fallen from his face. Daniel brushes the tear away and waits for Clark to make the next move, not wanting to push this physically when he may have just gone too far spiritually.
After a moment of stillness, the man’s body quakes with the release of an unsteady breath and he reaches blindly to take hold of Daniel’s wrist.
“I’ll try not to fail you,” he promises as he presses his mouth to a pulse point. “I will not betray your trust.”
“I know,” Daniel says, with unshakable confidence.
Clark tips his head forward to press against the bared strip of Daniel’s chest.
“Thank you.”
The words are more felt in the movement against his skin than heard with the quietness that Clark speaks. Daniel wraps his arms around the man, embracing him on the altar; offering shelter and solace with lustful thoughts fading as he assumes that moment to have passed.
Clark’s arms curl loosely around his waist, drawing Daniel closer. He turns his head to press an ear to the steady beat of Daniel’s heart and the rasp of stubble against his skin sends a shiver through him. He shifts so that his erection won’t poke so tellingly against the other man and ruin this moment. He feels, though, against his hip, the press of Clark’s erection; a hard, thick length pushing at the clothing between them.
Daniel gasps, surprised and delighted by this evidence that the arousal has not passed between them.
“Clark,” he draws back to say, unsure if he intends to caution or encourage.
The hands around his waist drop down to grip his ass and further speech is stopped by Clark’s tongue thrusting into his mouth. His own fingers flex to dig into the man’s strong shoulders and the muscle seems to quiver under his tight hold.
Clark’s fingers attempt to slip beneath the waist of Daniel’s pants, but the tightness of his belts prevents those large digits from gaining passage. His hands move to the front to release the buckle and unfasten Daniels trousers to push the clothes away. Daniel shrugs out of his shirt and lowers his own hands to the zipper of Clark’s jeans.
“Are you sure?” he asks, tab gripped between thumb and forefinger as he hesitates to go further.
“Show me that I’m not a monster,” Clark thrusts against Daniel’s hand. “Prove that I don’t have to be feared; that everyone on this planet does not hate me.”
“I’m just one of your many supporters, Clark,” Daniel allows his palm to flatten along the length of the man’s penis. “I don’t see how this is helping.”
“I need a moment to not think,” he moves to unzip his own pants and shifts to move Daniel’s hand to his flesh. “You’re right, Father,” he groans as Daniel’s fingers wrap around his length. “I just need to act.”
Daniel should correct him, ask to be called by his given name and not his title, but there is something erotically taboo about the man addressing him as ‘Father’ in these circumstances. Some may think this sacrilege or blasphemy, but it feels as sacred and reverent as his Ordination.
Through the stained glass windows surrounding them light shines down upon them, the golden rays making the images of Christ glow. Daniel imagines Him looking down upon them with understanding and, quite possible, complete support.
The world is in peril, both their fates uncertain; they need this.
Clark’s hands turn him and Daniel moves at the man’s bidding to bend over the altar. He shudders at a nip to the back of his neck and digs his fingers into the floor as he watches the chalice of anointing oil move as Clark draws it toward him.
He presses his forehead to the ground and twists to watch as Clark’s fingers dip into the oil. He bites into his lip to keep from crying out the Lord’s name as a warm hand spreads the cheeks of his ass and those slick fingers trail down the divide to circle the pucker of his entrance. Daniel breathes deep and braces, anticipating the push and stretch of those digits inside him.
The fingers just skate over the sensitive flesh, leaving slick residue as they move further down to press against Daniel’s perineum. The pressure sends a jolt of pleasure through him, making him scramble for a better grip on the polished wood of the altar. Then Clark’s hand tugs at his sac before moving past it to curl around his dick and Daniel’s breath escapes in a shuddering rush.
“Oh, God,” he gasps, as those slick fingers curl around him and stroke his length.
He could come just from that; a grasp so tight and slick and hot after months of abstinence. While he thrusts into that grip as it moves from tip to base, he feels more slickness spreading around his hole. His mind identifies Clark’s right hand around his dick and Clark’s left hand still spreading Daniel open, leaving only one thing to be pushing at his entrance.
Clark’s tongue.
It rasps along his crack before flicking around the puckered flesh. Then it curls to a point and begins to push past the resistance of his sphincter while Daniel tries not to collapse. The deliberately tight circle of Clark’s fingers around the base of his cock keeps Daniel from coming and he is embarrassingly grateful for that because his balls are drawn up in anticipation of release. He would be spilling on the altar and melting into his own wet spot were it not for the man’s strong hold.
He shakes; squeezing his eyes shut and groaning as the tongue wriggles its way inside him. He feels his cock leaking at the stimulation. He spreads his legs further and pushes back on to the invader for more. The tongue pushes deeper and furls inside; twisting more nimbly that fingers ever could.
Daniel claws at the floor. He wants to beg; needs to have more inside him, but all he can manage are moans and groans mixed with more cries to God and Jesus than he should ever utter outside the context of a sermon.
Clark’s mouth withdraws along with the left hand from his backside, but before Daniel can do more than whimper at the loss, slick fingers are pushing inside him. One finger stretches his hole, two cause a slight burn and three of those big fingers are a pleasure bordering on pain as they work to loosen the muscle for the even larger penetration of Clark’s cock.
“Can you take me?” Clark asks, his jaw scratching along Daniel’s shoulder as his husky voice asks in Daniel’s ear.
“Yes,” Daniel groans, feeling the press of that cock against his buttocks as Clark leans over him.
Or I’ll gladly die trying.
The fingers withdraw from him with a slick pop and he then hears the wet slap of Clark coating his penis with oil.
Daniel wishes that he see this extraordinary male nude and preparing himself for sex, but orgasm is too close for him to even risk sneaking a peek. He knows that he may ever have chance to see this again, but he need not witness with his eyes to know the wondrous things that happen on this Earth.
He will feel the presence of this man having been inside him as surely as he has known himself graced by God in the past.
Knowing that is all that he needs for his faith to stay strong.
The chalice empties over him, an unexpectedly cool wash of slick fluid as Clark finishes his preparations. He moves his knees to the inside of Daniels and carefully nudges them further apart to open him more.
Daniel’s thighs quiver at the strains. He lowers he chest to the altar and moves his hands back to take hold of his cheeks and stretch his ass as much as he can.
The blunt head of Clark’s bare penis presses against Daniels hole. He thinks he should worry about the unprotected aspect of this joining; fear for his soul at his debauched sprawl upon the altar, but all he does is relish the wet push of spilled oil that precedes Clark’s entry.
His grips himself with bruising force at the pressure and gives a controlled exhalation to ease the tension in his muscles. The head pops in and Clark puts his hand atop one of Daniel’s; his big thumb giving a soothing stroke to the skin stretched around his shaft.
“More,” Daniel’s voice breaks on the word and his control nearly follows when that thumb crooks and the tip catches on the rim of his hole.
Clark does not push the thumb in further, though, he slides it away and moves his hands to grip Daniel’s hips. He bends himself over Daniel’s back; his chest flattening to the contours of Daniel’s spine as he rolls how hips and slowly glides deeper. Daniel bites his lip as the penetration increases by only an inch or two and Clark bites down on his shoulder as he grinds downward to work in more of his length. His left hand leaves Daniel’s hip and slaps down on the floor beside his head.
“I can’t-” the man nearly growls as his fingers dig in with enough force to break the wooden plank under his hand.
“Don’t hold back,” Daniel says, opening his eyes and twisting to a painful angle to look back to Clark’s eyes.
Something flashes in that startling blue gaze and he shifts to press a fleeting kiss to Daniel’s slack lips before rearing back to thrust the rest of the way in.
The rush is enough to make Daniel think that he might pass out; so hard, so deep, so fast. He’s buffeted inside and out with the overwhelming feel of this man. He doesn’t know if he can take it; he isn’t sure that he can stand it to end.
Clark’s pelvis pushes against the backs of his hands and the man is seated as deeply inside Daniel as any can go. He pauses in that moment, inhaling audibly for control while Daniel trembles. His breath gushes out and his hips undulate to draw his cock out at a slower rate. After withdrawing half his length, he drives back in with a force that scoots Daniel forward on the floor.
Clark’s bracing arm stops Daniel from going too far and he turns his face toward it to kiss the forearm in thanks.
The next thrust is even harder and Daniel finds himself biting into the flexing muscle of Clark’s arm. The man above him groans and shudders at the bite, but before Daniel can rear back or think of apologizing, teeth lock down on the juncture of his neck and shoulder.
The next thrust slaps Clark’s abdomen against Daniel’s upturned ass. Daniel bites harder and so does Clark.
The rhythm quickly turns to a relentless pounding that makes Daniel want to beg for release; from both the pain and pleasure of the fucking. Instead of voicing a plea, though, he bites until he tastes blood and feels a trickle from his own shoulder to indicate that Clark has broken skin, too. The blood on his lips tastes as metallic as his own and Daniel knows that regardless the planet of origin; they are of the same kind.
Clark’s right hand moves to wrap around Daniel’s neglected cock, engulfing it in a grip that makes Daniel throw back his head and nearly scream at the friction. It takes only two quick pulls of that hand to bring him over the edge and his body shatters with the force of his orgasm.
He feels a sticky splash over his torso before Clark’s hand moves to catch his release. When the shudders stop and Daniel can expel no more, Clark draws his hand away, pulls his cock out then covers it with Daniel’s come before he shoves himself back inside.
A thrust against his prostrate makes Daniel’s dick twitch in over-sensitized reaction and he pulls his hands from between them to claw at the floor for stability as Clark begins to lose control.
With Daniel attempting to brace himself now, Clark pulls his arm back and grips Daniel’s hips tightly; tight enough to bruise with a possibility of fracturing to the bone. It doesn’t hurt, though, as all he can feel is the smack and recoil of Clark’s pelvis against his ass.
If he could, he’d come again from the unending stimulation, but his body is a long way from recovering to manage another climax. His cock dribbles, though, a sticky stream that puddles on the floor beneath him.
The thrusts speed up and lose any kind of rhythm, taking on the telltale jerks of a male body tensing to orgasm. His hands tighten, leaving marks that Daniel thinks he’ll likely bear forever, and he drives in one last time before grinding impossibly deeper as his body unleashes.
The feel of that heat gushing inside him is a relief that spreading through him like fire. It leaves him weaker than his own orgasm and with one final shudder, his arms give out. Only Clark’s hold on him keeps him from tumbling to a pile on the floor.
After the man shudders through the last of his climax, his fingers unfurl and Daniel flops to the floor. He rolls to his back, panting for breath; feeling the sweat on his skin and soaking his hair. The altar is unforgiving under him, but his body feels liquid enough that he could sleep just like this.
Clark remains kneeling, bowed forward as he breathes and shudders through his own aftershocks. Daniel forces his heavy lids open so that he can finally see this man in all his splendor. And it is splendor.
Ivory skin stretches over mounds of muscle, dark hairs covering his arms and torso. Sweat gleams on him, giving his body a glowing appearance in the waning rays of sunlight filling the church. His pose prevents Daniel from seeing everything, but the lush curve of his ass and the thickness of his thigh are enough to imprint in Daniel’s memory forever.
He’ll never know another like this.
The passions cool between them and Clark stirs first to look for his shirt to begin wiping himself down. Daniel just collapses back and closes his eyes, too spent to care about his own filth or nudity.
He senses Clark rising and listens to him pulling his pants back into place. Daniel keeps his eyes stubbornly closed to avoid this awkward scene as the reality of their actions sinks in. He feels no shame, but doesn’t want to see whether Clark does in the aftermath.
After several minutes of silence, he starts at the feel of a rough cloth dragging over the sticky skin of his torso. He opens his eyes to see Clark beside him, idly wiping away the residue of his climax. Clark’s hand stops when he realizes that he has Daniel’s attention and he drops his soiled shirt to put his bare hand over Daniel’s thudding heart.
“Thank you,” he says, meeting Daniel’s gaze steadily. “I know what I need to do now.”
Daniel blinks up at him as Clark bends to press one last kiss to Daniel’s mouth. He lifts a hand to curl around the man’s thick neck, clinging to what will likely be his final taste of Clark’s lips. He lets go, though, when Clark pulls away.
He pushes himself to sit up and watch as Clark moves down the aisle toward the exit. His torso is bare, his shirt left behind in Daniel’s lap as he props himself up. Clark unlocks the door and puts his hand on the knob to leave.
“Clark,” Daniel calls out at the last moment.
The man pauses to look back with evident surprise at his being stopped.
“When the dust of all this settles, I expect to see you at my next sermon.”
Clark huffs out a laugh at the unexpected order and his mouth curls upward with a smile.
“I wouldn’t miss it, Daniel,” he promises before giving a nod and leaving the church.
I hope neither of us do, he thinks with a sigh as he pushes himself to gather his clothes and flee to his office in case someone else actually ventures in today.
He dresses slowly then tips his head back to quietly beseech his God that He see them through this time of darkness. He moves slowly back to the main room to clean up, feeling the phantom of Clark with every step he takes. He collects the emptied chalice and returns it to the pulpit to be refilled later with fresh oil. He uses Clark’s abandoned shirt to wipe the floor then he carefully folds the damp material and places it beside the chalice to be taken home and washed. He walks past the silent radio to pick the broom back up to finish sweeping.
He feels no compulsion to turn the noise back on for continuous updates on what’s happening in the skies above.
He knows who the Kryptonian among them is and he knows that Clark Kent will not stand idly by if General Zod intends to harm the people of Earth.
Father Daniel Leone may be alone in his church, alone in his faith, but he will not be alone once the world sees some of the greatness that he knows to be in Clark.
For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.
~*~
*2 Corinthians 5:14
**1 Corinthians 13