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Childe is well aware of all the commandments of the Bible, and at the same time it means nothing to him, although the mother taught her son to be God-fearing from childhood – alas, for some reason it did not work at all with him. Not only because of his lack of perseverance and hyperactivity – yes, Ajax has nowhere to put energy, but this is what he has always been – Childe simply did not listen. But he remembered well: don't kill, don't steal, don't cheat... he had too big problems with the latter. On the one hand, Ajax did not want to keep himself in a cage of relationships, but every time someone suggested that he meet, he agreed to it too quickly – almost instantly. And then Childe made new acquaintances and the old interest subsided, but he was a coward in this regard enough to keep silent to all his partners about the presence of others. Even if they knew each other, and the world is small and everything happens in life.
It was for this reason that he trampled on Barbara and tried to ask for advice, what could he do at all?
"In short... that's how it turned out." He jerked his hand up and scratched his wrist nervously. "Um, what do you think can be done? Like, get counsel or something."
"Counsel?" Barbara raised her eyebrows and thought. She, of course, served as a sister in the cathedral, but listening to Childe was the last thing she was ready to do, although even in conversation now she looked very merciful and understanding. "You can try going to church. A priest can not only confess, but also give advice… You know, I'm not just talking about this because I serve here myself, okay?"
"Okay, okay, I get it, yeah." Ajax waved his hands, saying that he had nothing to do with it. "Like, any time at all?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure this can help? It's just, well, I don't believe in God and all things, so maybe it's just for believers?"
"Oh, no, no. If you come for advice, then you will get advice. Do you understand?"
"Yeah… I think I understand."
Barbara wanted to say that he didn't understand a damn thing, but she didn't say anything. The appropriate upbringing affected. But Childe had it for amazing reasons, and you didn't need to know the redhead's mother to know that he didn't look like her at all, and the efforts, in fact, went nowhere.
The next day, Childe was trampling not in front of the cathedral, but in front of the church. Under the rain, which had been pouring down like a wall since the morning, he managed to get wet to the skin and was already disappointed in his idea, but he still got there and wanted to go inside resolutely. I just wanted to smoke incredibly, but Ajax reassured himself that the time was not right, and the time was even more so. After all, he needs to exert his willpower.
Finally, he took a deep breath and carefully, with a characteristic creak, opened the door and slipped inside.
My gaze instantly went through the rows of benches, altars with candles on both sides and stained glass windows on the windows. Of course, he did not live in a poor neighborhood, so a church was attached to him, but Childe still managed to marvel at the beauty of the embodiment of Christianity before he stumbled upon a priest. A very... extraordinary priest. His sharp gaze of two violet eyes and the red eyeliner around made Childe take aback and freeze for a couple of seconds. The priest, seeing him, put out his cigarette on the altar and assumed a neutral look, as if he had not just smoked in church. Questions about why there were no nuns or anyone else here disappeared as if by a click - or he didn't care much about it anymore.
Well, Childe is ready to come out in front of himself. He's sunk in.
The priest was wearing the same typical Catholic clothes: a black cape, top and bottom, separated by a belt. And everything is black. But this boy – Childe didn't hesitate to call him that, because the priest looked almost two heads shorter than him – it was too surprisingly becoming a discontented face. And a extinguished cigarette a couple of minutes ago between thin fingers looks like a native. Childe wants to shame himself for the thoughts that flashed through his head.
"Good day. Have you come to confession?" The priest arched an eyebrow. He has to lift his head to look into Ajax's dark blue eyes.
Childe seemed to become even more infatuated with the diminutive priest as soon as he opened his mouth. I wonder if he will be able to get a number after confession? (In fact, Ajax's thoughts are already too far from repenting of his sins.)
"Yeah…yes." Childe nodded, trying to moderate his ardor. "And also, after this... confession, can I ask for advice or something?"
"Advice? Depends on which one. But I think you can."
"Oh, thank you. Very helpful, yes."
The priest gave him a very strange look. It was as if he had looked into Childe's head and understood in advance what he was thinking.
"I'm listening." The priest turned away, wound a chain of beads around his hand and squeezed the cross in his palm.
"What?"
"«What's that.» Confession."
It was at this moment that Childe realized that he didn't want to get into trouble. Only the image of the priest in this neatly looking black clothes was spinning in his head, and clearly not what Ajax was supposed to say now. The entire text of repentance, which the redhead had prepared for himself last night after talking with Barbara, was flying out of his memory with incredible speed. Childe looks down and nervously tugs at the sleeve of his soaked jacket.
"Uh... well, I, well…"
"Don't mumble. Do you know that it is necessary to repent concisely and without excessive self-pity?"
The priest's commanding tone instantly pinned Childe to the floor – he no longer thought of staggering from side to side.
"Oh, my God…Why don't you just say something like "I'm a sinner" and I'll say a prayer?"
"Is it possible?"
"Yes." The priest wanted to think before answering, but he had no plans to waste time on the redhead. "At least, that's what all older people do. Just do the same."
"Okay." Child nodded. "Um... uh... sinful me…"
The priest mentally rejoiced. He threw up his hands with a victorious look and began to recite a prayer in Latin – usually it was supposed to be done in English, especially for him in connection with the indication of his, so to speak, boss, but the guy was surprisingly indifferent to any rules.
Childe listened with strange rapture to the priest's speech, pretending to understand his words. At school, he had come to a couple of Latin lessons, but now he could not remember much, and let this priest erase anything in front of the altar – Ajax was ready to listen to his voice forever. Does he catch everyone at a glance, or is it Childe who is so passionate about feelings? Or did he think with a slightly different head too often?
Less than five minutes later, the priest finished reading the prayer. Now he said "Amen" in the language familiar to Ajax and with a sigh let go of the chain with the cross. He looked as if he was not happy with his work and did not believe his own words in prayer. Although obviously not a sinner, like Childe, to judge about it – he is also well done.
"I've finished. Your sins are absolved." The priest turned around and nodded.
"Oh, thank you." Ajax quickly got up from the bench and followed him. The priest fished out of a secret pocket a pack of not the cheapest cigarettes, as the redhead managed to note for himself, and put it between his teeth.
He plopped down next to Childe on the bench as if nothing had happened. The priest in a relaxed pose slightly slid down and looked up into the blue eyes of Ajax – the redhead was again pierced (to the heart) by his large black pupils.
"Are there any lighters by chance?"
"Available."
Childе hastily rummaged through his pockets to find it; he handed the lighter to the priest, who looked much happier when he took a drag.
"You know, It's strange. To see a young man in church. Usually pregnant women come here, who ask to be blessed with a healthy child, or the elderly."
"Strange? Well, I'm here on the advice of one of my ... acquaintances, rather." Ajax scratched his head, remembering Barbara's ponytails and her face on yesterday's dark evening.
"Did you come on the advice to ask for advice? I'm afraid to assume what kind of dilemma could arise in your life."
The priest clearly did not sound like an enlightened Catholic who "cares about the well-being of his neighbor" and so on according to the list of all the rules from the Bible; he looked more like a psychopath trying to atone for his sins. In any case, he somehow looked like a passionate believer, even if at first glance it did not seem so from the word at all.
"Uh... how can I tell you," Childe hesitated again. At such moments, he became a coward, especially next to them. "In general, I've had a lot of partners in my whole life that I loved, but it turned out that, uh, interest faded too quickly. But I'm sorry to leave them all, even though it sounds strange. And I feel remorse about it."
"Wow." The priest rolled his eyes. "Don't worry about it. You're not the only one. If you want to know my opinion, here's what I'll say…"
He made Childe bend over before continuing.
"...just tell everyone the truth. No one has died from this yet." The priest shrugged as if that was the most obvious thing.
Ajax took his word for it – if a man of faith, then he knows what he's saying, right? Although he no longer needed advice. He himself could figure out how to easily and without consequences get rid of all his current and former partners at the snap of his fingers. Yeah, just because he's got a crush on the priest. In any case, there was no such thing in his life.
"By the way, can you tell me your name? And also the phone number, well there…" Ajax stretched out with a sly smile. He squinted at the priest smoking like a steam locomotive.
"Name? Well, Scaramouche. And you won't get a number."
Scaramouche, then. Child made a note for himself to call him by his first name only.
"Well, that's not interesting. And for «please»?"
"For "please" I can only send you to hell."
"And if for «please, Mouche»?"
"Scaramouche."
"Please, Scaramouche?"
Ajax made puppy-dog eyes and stared at Scaramouche. He grimaced and jumped back so as not to collide with the red nose.
"Learn the Old Testament, and then I'll think about it. See ya."
The priest waved at him with a malicious smile as the church doors slammed shut behind Childe. Well, Scaramouche should also come out: this red-haired sinner is attractive. Attractive enough that Scaramouche will give it to him next time, because he is sure that Childe will certainly not refuse.
Ajax spends the whole night and the whole day first of all searching for the Old Testament, then reading, rereading and trying to remember at least half of the names. Apart from Jesus and Judas, nothing stubbornly came to mind, either because Childe himself did not believe what he was reading, or he had to sleep at night for more than two hours at the table before the alarm clock rang. He also trudges to work a little alive, but, fortunately, he manages to fill up the lost hours, even at the workplace. In the evening, he rushes from the church as fast as he can, hoping that she is still working, and Scaramouche is not busy with some other sinner.
"Wow. You really have come again."
This time he doesn't put out his cigarette as soon as he sees the red-haired top in the doorway. Scaramouche stands alone again, in the evening silence, when the church is not lit up so much that he can see beyond the altar.
"How are you getting on with the Bible? Do you have something to tell me?"
"Yeah." Childe nods, trying to catch his breath. He settles on a bench closer to the light so that he can see Scaramouche's face in the semi-darkness. "Well, listening…"
Throughout the story, the priest pretends to listen to Ajax's words and knows what he is talking about. Scaramouche is very good at making a focused face when the situation requires it, so he has no problems with the task of depicting a hobby. He himself had never read what Child was talking about in his life. He actually said then as a joke – the phone number would still be in the redhead's pocket.
"...Moses carved the commandments on the rock. There were, uh... twelve of them?" Ajax was distracted from his monologue and raised his head to Scaramouche. He was sitting with his usual impenetrable look on the left, on the edge of the bench. "I think I forgot."
"What have you forgotten?" The priest immediately comes to his senses.
"Um, how many of these commandments Moses carved."
"What a pity. And I already wanted to give you my phone number ... "
Child groaned desperately.
"Come on! Won't you give me the number just because of Moses?"
"Not just because of him. How can I communicate with someone who disrespects faith?"
"You light up right from the candles on the altar. Isn't that blasphemy?"
"But-but. I decide what is considered blasphemy in my church and what is not."
Scaramouche turned his index finger with a menacing look for authenticity. He was already sitting half-sideways, one leg bent on the bench. The fabric of the Catholic's clothes stretched.
"But that's not fair!"
"Ha ha ha. Okay, I'm not pious." He raised his cigarette-free hand in a defensive gesture. "I just don't want to lose my job. And now you know the whole Old Testament."
Childe felt like he had been brutally fucked. And who! Initially, he planned that everything would be completely the opposite.
"Hey, man! Did I learn all this in vain?"
"Not in vain, of course. Teaching is light…"
Scaramouche swung one leg over Childe's hips and sat on his lap. The red-haired man's face instantly turned red, as soon as the priest moved closer by a couple of centimeters.
"...and not teaching is darkness. Here." Scaramouche turned the phone number between his thin, pale fingers. Ajax hoped it was really his number. He slipped the paper into the inside pocket of Childe's shirt. "By the way, I know what you want to do. Fuck a priest, right? Right in the church? On this altar bench?"
Scaramouche tapped the bench with his knuckles to confirm his words. Fucking sadist. Childe squeezes his waist through the Catholic's robes and leaves a hickey on a terribly noticeable spot on his neck.