Dinner had been prepared milliseconds before Claude knocked on the door of the old church home. The last bits of sunlight shone behind him as he stood in a black and white dress shirt with the top buttons undone and a delicate gold necklace dangling from his neck. He wore burnt orange pleated linen trousers that hugged tightly on his hips. He had cleaned up nicely and raced over with a bottle of red wine and a bouquet. James nervously opened the door but giddily welcomed his guest. "Come in! I just took the quiche out," said James gesturing him inside. He too had cleaned up nicely. James wore a black polo shirt with tan linen trousers. They were not as form-fitting as Claude's but his toned body was easily detectible. Claude stepped into the home and handed James the flowers, "These are for you. Thank you for having me at such late notice." James closed the door behind him, "Oh not at all. The pleasure is mine." James accepted the flowers and stated, "Please sit down in the dining room, I'll go put these in some water." In all of his adult life, James had never been gifted flowers; he lightly sniffed them and smiled to himself before fetching an old vase and placing the bouquet on the dinner table.
Over that quickly whisked together dinner, the two discussed politics, foreign policy, and books they were currently reading. While they both noted an age gap between their music tastes, they both voted Democrat, were avid Johnny Carson fans, and loved the Exorcist. They uncorked Claude's wine and happily drank as if they had known each other all their lives. This was not the mere polite conversation James had grown accustomed to entertaining but this time with Claude was a genuine expression of his feelings, likes, and dislikes. Claude had managed to look beyond the collar he'd wrapped around his neck, a noose that kept him bound to the realm of God for the last fifteen or so years. A self-proclaimed heretic, Claude spoke of his passions and his distaste for organized religion. Without fear, he expressed that his calling to become a lawyer came from the aftermath of Stonewall and how he'd come out last year with the death of Harvey Milk. He was erudite, ardent, unshaken, and strong-willed. James could hardly believe the man was ten years his junior. Rather than hide behind the cloak of God, to James, Claude defied Him and succeeded. "Are you uncomfortable with my orientation Father?" asked Claude, somewhat challenging James. James shook his head, "Despite what the church says on same-gendered relationships," he stated pouring the last bit of wine into his glass. "I believe only God can truly make the final judgment." "Aren't you His representatives here on Earth?" "Yes, but we are only men. We aren't perfect." Claude rose his glass at James, "Here, here" then took it to his lips and drank.
"Would you like me to open up another bottle?" asked James, aware that the night had effortlessly crept upon them. They had already consumed a bottle each. Claude smiled and said, "If you don't have anything pressing tomorrow morning Father, I'd like to continue." James grinned and stated, "Well, I found a decent shiraz in one of the cupboards that I've been wanting to try." James stood up, a bit of wooziness rising to his head. "We can continue in the living room so please go on ahead. I will meet you there." Claude rose from his seat and disappeared from the dining room leaving James to have a moment with himself. What am I doing? He questioned. In his excitement, he had forgotten to say grace and cast aside his professional façade. I'm getting drunk with an omega! He shrieked to himself, however, his hands were busy uncorking another bottle and grabbing two additional glasses. It was as if his body was working against whatever brain cells were left and moving to appease Claude.
Since the home lacked many 20th-century amenities, the living room was dimly lit by several scattered lamps rather than one central light. The room was quite dark playing with shadows and light—creating a deeply intimate environment. When James had come into the room, Claude appeared different from James. Perhaps it was the alcohol finally making its way through both their bodies but Claude appeared more relaxed, his body sinking into the sofa and his arm stretched across the backrest. His undone top buttons which James just related to current fashion trends were sights of sensuous invitation underneath this kind of pale light. The delicate chain around his neck rested on his clavicle, sparkling with the movement of his breathing. Does he have no sense of danger? I'm not a beta, James expressed while setting down a glass on the side table closest to Claude and pouring him a drink. Of course, Claude was aware of the danger but for whatever reason, he showed up at James's home uncollared and alone. Many omega congregants trusted James of course but, they still came with some sort of device protecting the napes of their necks. James sat in the chair across from Claude with a refilled drink at hand. "Do you mind if I ask you more invasive questions?" asked Claude sipping on his wine. James answered with a polite, "Of course." "Why do you teach rather than conduct mass? Isn't it a bit strange?" "There are many different vocations within the Church. I chose mine to be of an educator." Claude moved his arms and changed his position to directly face James. "Then why Providence? It seems like a big move from Georgia to Rhode Island." "I went to universities in the North East and my dad had moved up to Massachusetts once I graduated high school. I decided to try and stay up there." James took another sip of wine, "What about you? Why didn't you go to California or a more liberal place for law school?" Claude smirked slightly and mirrored James's drink. "I got a scholarship to attend and well, my family is from Philly so I wanted to remain close by. Plus, I have Miss Sharon here to worry about as well." "Why is that?" "She's all alone down here and refuses to leave. She's family to us. She often took care of me so now it's our turn." James smiled, he felt at ease knowing Miss Sharon despite being unwed still had a family.
"You mentioned your dad lives up North, did your mom follow him up there?" Claude asked, recalling James's evasion of his questions earlier that day. "Not exactly," stated James. "She sorta left first and then passed away a couple of years later. Dad followed her grave up there." "I'm sorry about your loss." "Thank you but don't worry about that. It was a while back." James's expression remained still but his eyes displayed both pain and anger. Claude took note of it, curious about the quiet Father's upbringing. "I'm not angry about you asking, it is just an uncomfortable subject for many people." "Don't you find it uncomfortable?" James drank again. "No, I made peace with it but others judge and question so I rather keep it to myself." Claude drank as well, looking for a way to politely change the conversation. He was inquisitive and desired more information but was careful to not offend his host. "Are your folks originally from Georgia?" he asked, finding this to be the more natural way to steer out of the mine he'd set up. "My dad is; his family even fought for the South. Mother's family was never in our life so I can only guess. Dad and I think she may have been Mexican or Italian. She had a bit of accent when speaking." Claude raised his brows, there weren't many Southerners who'd confess to mixed race. "Why those two specifically?" "Her skin tone and hair weren't particularly common around these parts. But honestly, it was her devotion to Catholicism," spoke James, slightly chuckling. "There aren't many Southern Catholics." Claude chuckled too, "I think you're right."
James sipped his wine and rosy-cheeked looked into the slender man across from him. His cheeks were speckled pink and his droopy lids were desperately fighting off an alcohol-induced slumber. "May I say something? As an Alpha," Asked Claude still with eyes closed. "Why did you decide to become a priest?" James chuckled bitterly, the question had finally come. "It was just my calling. I felt that it was the right choice for me." Claude turned his head to James and rolled his eyes "I can tell you're lying. I can smell it." Claude pointed at his nose and folded his head to his arms. Half his face was obscured but he pestered on "You release a bit of your scent every time you lie. How about this question then. Have you ever been in love?" James shook his head. "For a man of God, you sure lie a lot." James looked into him, Claude's eyes were closed but his face looked quite stern. Perhaps it was the alcohol but his pheromones were going wild. He'd never before been caught exposing his scent.
"It's not that I want to lie. You're just asking a very personal question." "How else am I to get to know you?" "Why do you want to get to know me?" "Curiosity— never met an alpha who suppressed himself like you. It's interesting." "It's part of my vocation. I'm meant to keep it in check for the lord." James continued to sip on his wine, slumping deeper into his couch. He hasn't been this intoxicated in years never mind finding an omega who could keep up. "So you've never had urges? Ever?" Asked Claude, now opening his eyes but not looking anywhere in particular. "I have. That's natural—I still have cycles." "I meant from people. Like you see a pretty woman walking by." "Hmm," said James "not really no." "To which part? The urges or the woman?" Still obscuring his face, Claude's attention darted to James. James felt a rush of heat wash upon him.
Though he could only faintly notice Claude's scent, he was beginning to react. The topic of conversation was clouding his better judgment and the alcohol was only expediting his reactions. "Well? Which one Father?" He's teasing me on purpose, thought James. He wanted to push back. "It's only natural to react to someone attractive" "So you do have urges?" "What do you think?" "I think you're purposefully evading an answer. You'd make a great politician." "You've gotten me to reveal more than usually do. You're gonna make a top-grade lawyer." Claude laughed and then rested his chin on his forearm. "Father I didn't know you're quite the charmer..." Claude reached for his glass and took another light sip mirroring James. "You keep calling me father. Why is that?" "Isn't that what I am supposed to address you as?" "If I were your priest sure but, you're not a congregant." "I am not." "So why do you call me that?" Claude smirked "Would you like me to address you some other way?" "You're avoiding my question." "You've been avoiding mine."
James felt his heart beating a bit faster. His breathing was deepening and his body heat increasing. Claude looked on at him with a glazed expression but an intensity that closely analyzed James's every move. He too was breathing a bit heavier. He was laying on his stomach but the bones of his back rose and fell at a heightened speed. Caught at a stalemate James finally admitted "I thought I met my pair once but it didn't work out." Claude looked on as in asking him to continue "We met in my junior year of high school on a museum trip. We kissed then one thing led to another and I was in love." "Ooh! How naughty!" exclaimed Claude, "Here I thought you were a nice catholic boy." "I was. I immediately told my parents, they kind of sensed something had occurred." "And what happened?" James gulped, he's never told this story to anyone except during confession to Father Michael. "Mother ended things. I wasn't allowed to be with them." "Were they not an Alpha?" "They were, they were just not the right Alpha." Claude raised an eyebrow, "Were they male?" James turned red "Yes." "Did you stay in contact with him?" "Yes." "Ouch!" "I'll do you worse, I went to his wedding." James finished the glass of wine with a smile and pained expression. "So do you think he was your destined pair?" "No. After seeing his wife and their love for each other I knew what I felt wasn't what they have."
Claude shifted his body to recline on the side, he held his head up with one hand and draped his arm against his hip. "What happens if you find your pair?" James looked onto Claude's delicate frame, in shifting his body his shirt slightly rose above his navel and a thin tuft of brown hair trailed down to his trousers. "I don't think I will. I'm nearly forty, I am an old man now." "You're not old and you're attractive to boot. Plus the collar doesn't look too bad on you." James found an opening to deliver a killing line, "Huh- so that why you like calling me father." To James's surprise, Claude didn't respond. His complexion was already rosy from the drinks, but a rush of red spread to his ears and down his neck. Even the tips of his fingers blushed. "I-I only meant t-to tease you a bit," nervously muttered James, eyes wide with fear that he offended his guest. Claude burst into laughter so suddenly he began to cough. He collapsed onto his back holding on to his stomach. Between laughter, he took gasps till they gradually subsided. "I don't mean to offend you," continued James now too blushing and embarrassed about his brash joke. "Ah," exclaimed Claude wiping tears from his eyes "that was quick! You blindsided me. Don't worry it was great!" James sighed in relief. "But you're not too far from the truth." Claude turned his head to James and the two locked eyes.
The heat in both their bodies felt different. They could easily blame the alcohol like before but it was undeniable that something had changed. The instantaneous silence between them created a thick atmosphere of primal awareness as if the two were in a forest, a hunter facing their prey. Claude had cast the net and James fell victim. No words needed to be exchanged, no moves needed to be made. Their hearts beat faster, blood rushed through their veins making its way into their lungs, their cheeks, and their lips. Their chests rose and fell breathing the scents of delicate citrus and heavy honey bourbon that mixed delicately. Their pheromones complimented each other well, too well. It may have started as light teasing but Claude had accidentally unearthed the slumbering instincts within James. He was toeing a very dangerous line. The sweet, shy man who piqued his curiosity had now captivated his gaze. James was looking at him hungrily—starved more accurately. Claude slowly sat up from the couch, eyes still locked on James. The drinks in his body swirled within him and before doing something he'd regret, he needed to quickly leave. "I think we should call it a night," stated James breaking the silence and eye contact. He turned his face away from Claude, snapping out of his temporary persona. "Yes," stated Claude still intently watching James, standing up and straitening his clothing. "Do you feel safe walking home?" Claude nodded and began to walk out the door and into the hallway.
James followed behind, keeping the distance—Claude's pheromones were much more pungent than before. He'd usually give his guests his bed this late at night but he knew better than to provide that option. It would be risky to be in his current state alone with that pretty omega. Claude turned the handle of the front door and stepped out onto the porch. In this light, James could see his pink and red-blushed skin. The tips of his ears were still quite flushed and his mouth stained from drinking. He looked merry, jovial. He looks so beautiful, James thought to himself. "Thank you for dinner and for entertaining me," Claude stated, slowly turning to James. "The pleasure was all mine. We should do this again sometime," replied James, wholeheartedly knowing that it would be a bad idea for this to happen again. "I agree," replied Claude also aware that they were never going to drink in this manner again. "Goodnight Claude." "Goodnight Father." And just like that, Claude turned away and strolled into the darkness.
James closed the door and covered his face with his hands. He was still stimulated. The pressure with which his trousers applied helped constrain his arousal and yearning. "Shit," he said quietly to himself. His curiosity had gotten the better of him. He hated to admit it, he had fun with Claude. He enjoyed his quick snapbacks, inquisitive nature, and vivacious personality. James was captivated by how blushed with his entire body. He was fascinated by how his chest rose every time he breathed. He wanted to know how Claude's skin would react to his touch—would it quickly redden as he had done just now? James made his way to the living room to collect the glassware they had spent their entire night nursing. The room still smelled like him. James glided his hand to his front, caressing his throbbing member. It was stupidly large and useless to him. He was about to unzip his trousers and instinctively relief himself before catching the movement. He wasn't supposed to waste seed.
He removed his hand and grabbed the glasses. He would usually wash his dinnerware before bed but instead, he simply dropped them off at the sink. He climbed up the stairs and drunkenly undressed. James felt slight relief to break away from the constricting clothing. Drawing a bath, he then subjected his body to ice-cold water. He hoped the shock of the cool water would tame his arousal and perhaps keeps Claude away from his dreams.
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