Work Text:
Slap-Slap-Slap
The sharp, cacophonous melody of Johnny and Simon’s intimate flesh meeting echoes over sanctified walls, mixing with half-bitten cries and panted prayers.
In contrast to Simon’s near-inaudible huffs against his husband’s neck, Johnny could rival church bells in volume. And yet, Johnny has no compunction to quiet himself. Quite the contrary. He wants his pleasured sighs to reach on high. Propelled by kiss-bitten lips towards a crumbling thatched roof and broken panes of stained glass, he calls upon God’s ear to listen to his invocation.
“Keep going, sweetheart,” Simon groans against Johnny’s ear; the hot ghost of his command sends shivers down his neck, over his spine. His fingers tighten on his hips as he presses his husband’s back further into roughened stone. “Come on, I know you can do it.”
Johnny’s arms constrict over Simon’s broad shoulders. The beads of his rosary bite into his shivering palms. “Give us this day our daily bread,” he recites around a mewl. “And forgive us our trespasses…”
Simon’s cockhead kisses Johnny’s cervix with each wet, squelching thrust, as if to remind him of their purpose here. Yes, yes, of course! What could be holier than creating a new, beautiful life inside a house of God? Next to a cracked statue of his begotten son, gazing down upon them in approval and mercy?
(Johnny would almost say fate had a divine hand in this. A notification on his phone, announcing his impending ovulation, led them to seek sanctuary in the middle of their hiking holiday. And they found this, a sacred site so fitting for their purpose.)
A sharp press against his special spot brings Johnny back to focus. “Go on, Johnny. You won’t get my seed until you finish it. Gotta make sure -” Simon groans, rasping raggedly into the crook of Johnny’s shoulder. “ - Gotta make sure you finish it or it won’t work.”
Johnny whimpers. Simon is right. He needs to do this. He cannot fail. “As we forgive them that trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation…” The chord in his belly stretch, stretch,
stretches.
Oh, fuck, he is so close, so goddamned close. Just a little further and -
Simon grinds against him, stimulating his husband’s sensitive walls, his engorged clit. Johnny’s toes curl in his shoes. His thighs shake. Almost -
“But deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom,” Johnny gasps. There! There! There!
Yes
! “The power, and the glory, For ever and ever - oh fuck!”
Johnny’s orgasm anoints their thighs and the floor beneath them in wet splashes of slick. His cunt
clenches,
milking Simon until he has no choice but to tumble after his lover. Load after load of hot come enters Johnny’s awaiting fertile womb, leaving behind a promise of a future, of a family. What could be more righteous? What could be more hallowed?
Overstimulation has Johnny whining, and it must not be pleasant for Simon. And, yet, Simon coos against Johnny’s cooling brow, “Keep me in, sweetheart. Keep it in. Yes, that’s it. That’s a good boy, making sure it takes.”
Simon already makes such a wonderful father, sacrificing his pleasure, and enduring any pain he must, all for the sake of their child. Love floods the infinite, cavernous maw of Johnny’s chest.
Upon Simon’s lips, Johnny sends one final, heavenly hope, “Amen.”