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And You Will Have Joy And Gladness

Summary:

Thomas has an emptiness in him. Vincent is more than happy to fill him- er, fill it.

Notes:

You know the deal. Space-blue's conclave bingo, prompt Prayer/Taboo. Shout out to intothewildblueyonder for encouraging me to get that old man pregnant. It will happen someday.

Vincent references a few women from the Bible, all of whom were barren and then miraculously conceived.

I grew up protestant, I know nothing about catholic prayer. If I got something wrong I don't care.

Title is Luke 1:14

Work Text:

The door shut behind Vincent with a soft click. All at once, the day’s stresses, the Vatican itself melted away, leaving behind only Vincent’s own breathing and the warm comfort of his rooms, the small suite he called home. Candles provided light flickering over the walls, and the scent of previously made meals made Vincent feel safe and secure. At peace.

Carefully, he started stripping out of his vestments. Mozetta first, then the cassock, laid over the back of his favorite armchair. Later, he would hang these carefully in his wardrobe, but he wasn’t entering the bedroom just yet. He rested his zucchetto on the coffee table, brushed his fingers through his hair. With a deep breath, he came stand in front of the bedroom door, and opened it without knocking.

Thomas was waiting for him, perched on the end of the bed. Knowing him, he’d been waiting there since he’d come up after dinner, while Vincent had stayed behind in the cantina chatting with the other residents and diners at Casa Santa Marta. Making small talking while knowing Thomas was waiting for him had been exquisite torture, but oh, it was so worth it. Vincent felt Thomas always looked beautiful and handsome, whether strolling around the Vatican in his cassock or dressed down in his plain clothes, but right now he looked positively angelic. The lace hem of creamy white slip he wore rested just above his tightly pressed together knees, and his delicate make up- a touch of pale pink blush, a swipe of mascara- only served to enhance his natural beauty, not cover it. Vincent let his appreciation show fully on his face as he eagerly drank in the sight of his beloved.

“What a lovely sight to come home to,” he murmured, drawing nearer to stroke a single careful finger over Thomas’s cheek. “You spoil me, my love.”

“I only wish to please you,” Thomas demurred, turning his head to kiss Vincent’s palm. “And anyway, you deserve to be spoiled.”

“What flattery!” Vincent sank carefully to his knees in front of Thomas and started teasingly tracing up his ankles and calves. He could die a happy man in such a position, he thought, with Thomas staring down at him in flustered pleasure. He pressed his mouth to Thomas’s kneecaps, one after the other, and when he heard Thomas’s tiny little gasp at the action, did it over and over and over.

“Please,” his lover whispered and when Thomas leaned down, grasping his face desperately, Vincent happily rose up a little to press a kiss to Thomas’s mouth. Chaste at first, but it deepened quickly, the two of the entwining, drawing each other closer. When Thomas pulled back and tried to urge him up, though, Vincent stayed firmly on his knees.
“I intend to take my time with you tonight,” he said, kissing Thomas’s fingers. “I want you dripping and desperate when I take you. I will work you up until you are needy, darling, until you are begging for it. I want nothing on your mind tonight but pleasure. After all-” and here he reached up to grab Thomas’s chin, looking him in the eyes and not letting him pull away, “having you so flushed and ready gives us the best chance for conception.”

Thomas went statue-still, aside from the rapid movement of his chest, the dilating of his pupils, and the twitching of his groin. Good, Vincent had gotten his desired reaction.

Between the English and the Catholic, getting Thomas to talk about what he wanted, especially sexually, was like pulling teeth. Vincent had once convinced a gang member to put down his gun, and sometimes he had felt that that had been easier than getting Thomas to admit what he found arousing. It had been a few weeks ago when Vincent’s suspicions that Thomas was still holding out on him were confirmed; after a very intense round of relations aided by several glasses of wine, Thomas had tearily confessed into Vincent’s chest that he wanted more of Vincent; he wanted as much as he possibly could have and then some. Because this was Thomas, his admission had been surrounded by apologies and the fear that Vincent would find him disgusting. It had taken several days for Vincent to reassure him that what he wanted was not wrong or gross or even sinful, it was something they could both find pleasure in, and Vincent wanted to provide this for his love. From there it had taken even longer for Thomas to feel comfortable accepting what he was being given, but Vincent was willing to wait, and now it had finally come to fruition. Vincent only hoped he could make this as good for Thomas as possible. He deserved nothing less.

“Will-” Thomas’s voice broke off before he swallowed and found some courage. “Will you let me touch you, as well?”

“Mmm,” Vincent hummed. “I would deny no pleasure of yours, darling, and your touch is so exquisite. But remember-” he squeezed his fingers into Thomas’s hips, feeling the lovely give of the fat and muscle under his hands. “I will spill in you, tonight. I don’t wish to waste any seed.”

Thomas gasped, body trembling. Oh, divine thing, how perfect! Vincent had been aroused just by seeing his lover, and now his own words were making him light headed. Determined to make Thomas scream, wail, shriek tonight - why would he care if anyone heard them, not when they were engaged in the Godly act of procreation - Vincent started to slide Thomas’s legs open. Further, further, slowly, until Vincent felt Thomas’s muscles tense and he let out a tiny, uncomfortable sound. Instantly, Vincent pulled back, putting his hands on his own knees. Had he done something wrong?

Thomas’s eyes were closed lightly, and he was biting the inside of his cheek. Vincent felt a pang in his heart- he knew that expression. Thomas’s shame ran so deep that even in the midst of finding joy with his partner, it would sneak up on him and discourage him. Carefully, Vincent reached forward and took one of Thomas’s hands that had fisted into their sheets.

“What’s wrong, my love?” he murmured. “We are here, together, and we both want this. There is no reason to feel bad. It’s okay to feel good.” (This last statement was something most of the Vatican seemed to be unaware of. There were a few members of the Curia who Vincent felt were downright eager for the return of self flagellation, his dear Thomas unfortunately among them.)

“I’m not, I’m not- I’m not making fun of- I don’t want to disrespect the women. I don’t want to disrespect -” Thomas’s breath caught, and he opened his eyes to look at Vincent with a pleading expression, “you.”

Oh. Vincent hadn’t even considered that possibility. It was true that when he reversed Thomas’s and his current positions, he found the scenario considerably less sexy, but he in no way felt that Thomas was disrespecting or trivializing himself or anyone with the prerequisite reproductive organs. Poor Thomas, who felt he must be punished for everything! With a sigh,Vincent rubbed the hand in his soothingly.

“My dear,” he began gently. “You have never made me feel disrespected or lesser for who I am, and you don’t do so now. This is supposed to be fun, darling. There is no one here but us, our actions here cause harm to no one. I want to do this with you, but if you don’t want that, we can do something else. I just want your pleasure, and I want to be with you.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes while Thomas absorbed this and Vincent used his free hand to stroke the soft silk of his slip over his thigh. Eventually, Thomas sighed and whispered in a shaky voice, “I want this. I want- I want you to-” but it seemed he couldn’t say it. Vincent didn’t mind. Thomas was already being so brave, and Vincent knew what he needed. He leaned forward and pressed a loving kiss to Thomas’s stomach.

Inspiration struck him, and he glanced up at Thomas with a devilish glean in his eye. Wrapping his hands more firmly around his midsection, Vincent pulled Thomas as close as possible and with his mouth hovering above that lovely belly, he suggested in a low voice, “Why don’t we say a prayer, that it takes?”

“Vincent!” Thomas looked positively scandalized, but that was a much better look on him than shameful. Vincent laughed, delighted, and said teasingly, “What? It is by His orders that we should be fruitful and multiply!”

“Oh-” whatever Thomas’s rebuke to that was going to be was cut off with a gasp as Vincent leaned forward and wetted the fabric over his navel with his mouth. He hummed happily and nuzzled in against Thomas’s stomach. “Oh Lord,” he began, watching Thomas’s abdomen tense under his care, “We beseech You that You hear our prayer, that like Sarah-” a kiss, laid on his stomach, “-and Rebecca-” another kiss, “-and Elizabeth-” kiss, “that You bless us with the greatest gift, that You join us together, that You make us fertile and able…In Your name and the name of Your son, we pray. Amen.” He tapped Thomas’s hip, and above him, Thomas choked out, “Amen.”

Thomas’s erection had not flagged through the prayer, and Vincent turned his attention to it now. He spread Thomas’s obliging legs the rest of the way open and pushed the slip up just a bit. He had a suspicion of what he would find underneath, and groaned with pure desire when he saw he had been right: a pair of matching silk panties, soft and damp at the tip, straining around Thomas’s lust. He made himself go slow, like he had promised Thomas, and sucked, bit, and kissed his way up Thomas’s sturdy thighs, reveling in every whimper and moan he drew out. One hand landed on his head, not pushing or demanding, but just resting there. Vincent nosed his way into the crease where thigh met body and took in a deep breath. Oh, he could smell his love’s natural odor and above that, his arousal. Such an intoxicating scent, and Vincent indulged himself in the pure sensory experience of being between Thomas’s legs. Possibly a more holy place had never been made!

Please,” Thomas whimpered, arching his hips up just the tiniest bit. “Oh, please, dearest…”

And who was Vincent to deny him? He opened his mouth and licked at the fabric covering Thomas’s length. The silk was smooth against his tongue but underneath he could feel the heat and throbbing of Thomas’s need. With delicate hands - he would not be so crass as to rip a lady’s undergarments, after all - he slowly uncovered Thomas, and with a little wiggling from Thomas, pulled the panties all the way off. Unable to help himself, he brought the fabric to his face. Oh, the scent was so intense, and when he stuck out his tongue to lick the damp spot staining the white, he moaned at the taste. And this was just a teaser, an appetizer! He could wait no longer, and dropping the panties to the side, he captured Thomas’s cock in his mouth.

“OH, oh oh oh yesssss…” Thomas was so reactive, Vincent was so blessed by him. He licked and sucked and took the length as far down his throat as he could (which was farther than it used to be. Vincent was a little proud of that). He pulled off and pressed his tongue to the dripping slit, collecting as much of the flavor of Thomas as he could. The hand on his hand now snaked through his hair, not quite pulling his hair but holding onto it. Dipping down, Vincent closed his mouth around each of Thomas’s testicles in turn, luxuriating in their softness and the satisfying way they filled his mouth. When Thomas whined, he rose back up and returned to Thomas’s cock, tracing the vein on the underside with adoration.
It was simply so good, to bring his lover such uncomplicated pleasure. Vincent provided a warm and wet place for Thomas, and in return Thomas moaned and grunted and moved his hips uncontrollably and babbled out praise for Vincent and his mouth. When he gasped out “Stop, oh fuck Vincent stop-” Vincent pulled away to sit on his heels, savoring the ache in his jaw and the drool he could feel running down his chin. It had alarmed him greatly, the first few times Thomas had begged him to stop during their activities, until he had come to understand it was Thomas’s way of delaying orgasm. At his age, Thomas had said (blushing adorably), he could not possibly finish more than once during any given, ahem, session, and if they had plans for something more, he wanted to wait for them. Vincent had found this quite reasonable, and very erotic, and now enjoyed the benefits of drawing his lover close to orgasm several times before he truly released.

Apparently, he had exhausted Thomas to the point that he could no longer stay upright, for he collapsed back on the bed. Standing up, Vincent admired his view. Thomas, mouth open while he panted, chest rising and falling rapidly, his slip above his hips, cock hard and wet and legs spread. None of the art in the Vatican compared.

Vincent started on the buttons of his shirt, but stopped at a grumbling sound from his partner. Thomas, still breathing hard but apparently coming back to himself, pulled his legs under him and kneeled on the edge of the bed. He reached out and started undoing Vincent’s buttons, pressing kisses to every exposed inch of skin.

Vincent sighed in pleasure at the warmth and attentiveness of Thomas’s hands and mouth. When his lover licked over his nipple, the arousal in his pants twitched. Thomas’s hands wandered up and down his torso, tracing every scar with reverence. He whispered praise against Vincent’s skin, repeating over and over how lovely and beautiful and good Vincent was, how Thomas was so blessed by him (although really it was the other way around, Vincent thought. He was blessed by Thomas). With a simple push, his shirt hit the floor.

Thomas looked at Vincent with uncertainty for a moment, then leaned down and mirroring Vincent’s earlier actions, pressed a kiss to Vincent’s stomach. No. Lower than that. Over his womb. Vincent felt his breath catch, and rocked unconsciously into Thomas.

Thomas let his hands fall to Vincent’s belt, and from there it was a simple matter of unbuckling and unzipping and pushing down and then Vincent was as bare as the day he was born. Without words, he found the bottom of Thomas’s slip and pulled it up over his head, dizzy with arousal as Thomas was revealed to him completely. Blushing fiercely, because he never seemed to lose his innocence no matter how frequently they did this, Thomas once again lay back and spread his legs for Vincent. Inviting him.

Vincent was helpless. He fell upon Thomas, kissing his neck and shoulders, bringing their hips together in a slow grind that made Thomas groan. Vincent was tempted to make them finish like that, pressed together head to toe, pleasure sliding all the way down his spine but no, no, he had a job to do here. Ducking his mouth down, he wrapped his lips around a nipple, feeling Thomas arch up into him. Soft chest hair pressed against his face, Vincent nursed from Thomas, only pulling away to regain his breath. “Gorgeous,” he said gazing down at Thomas, one hand curling around his slight breast. “I cannot wait to see you full and leaking,” he continued, pinching and rolling his nipple, making Thomas squirm. “So ready to feed, to nourish…Such a lovely place it will be for me to lay my head. So warm, so soft.”

“Please,” Thomas insisted. “Please, darling, you said you wanted me to beg and I am, I am, I need it!”

“I will give you what you need,” Vincent said firmly. His Thomas would have to wait, he would absolutely not rush this. Lowering his mouth once again, he suckled on the other nipple, getting lost in the pure sensation of being so close to Thomas. He could hear his rapid heartbeat under his ribs, and Vincent nuzzled in as close as possible, before pulling off and switching again to the other side. When he finally managed to pull himself out of the daze brought on by sucking on Thomas, he rose up and peered down at Thomas, who appeared to have been rendered wordless. Oh, he was so wet though, from his teary eyes to his chest covered in saliva to his flushed cock dripping continually onto his stomach. Never one to let food go to waste, Vincent scooched down and bent over to lick up all that spilled pre cum, lapping over Thomas’s stomach in broad swipes.

“What a perfect place for our child to be,” he muses between licks, letting his tongue dip into Thomas’s navel. It’s true, too. Thomas had been so lean, when Vincent met him, busy and barely having time to sit for a meal, denying himself food as a means of control and punishment. Vincent had put a stop to that, of course. Thomas eats at least one meal a day with Vincent himself, and he makes sure the Dean’s office is well stocked with snacks. Sister Agnes and Aldo had been his allies in this, sometimes all but dragging Thomas to meals and gently encouraging him to eat. As a reward for the efforts, Thomas has put on some weight, just enough to soften his hips and give him a small pouch, a perfect little bit of fat for Vincent to cover with kisses and dig his fingers into.

Vincent is a little tempted to go back to sucking Thomas’s cock- it’s hardly an activity he’ll ever get tired of, after all- but his beloved is begging, and Vincent did promise to provide. Instead, he pushes Thomas’s legs up, and then reaches over to his side table, where of course Thomas had been prepared for Vincent, already laying out the lube. Carefully, Vincent covers his fingers, and because he did also say he wanted Thomas wet, smears a large amount over Thomas’s beautiful hole.

He does not ask if Thomas is ready. He knows how much Thomas likes him in control, using his body, and anyway he trusts Thomas to say stop if he needs to. Vincent places one finger on Thomas’s hole and starts rubbing in circles, slowly increasing pressure. This always draws a little whining cry from Thomas, an absolutely glorious sound. His hips shake, but he trusts Vincent to take care of him, and he doesn’t try to push against Vincent’s finger. As a reward, Vincent slowly sinks his finger in all the way, overcome as he always is by the heat and tightness inside Thomas.

“There you go,” he says quietly, free hand running up and down Thomas’s thigh. “Open up for me, dove, let me in. It’s a good thing that you’re so tight, my love, you’ll keep all my cum inside you, won’t you? Won’t let a drop spill until it takes…”

“Yes,” Thomas agrees desperately, hands clearly fisted in the pillows above his head so he won’t reach down to touch his cock. “Yes, yes, Vincent! Ohhhhhh…”

When Vincent slides in a second finger, Thomas gives into rocking his hips back and forth, grinding against him. Vincent lets him, though, and when he curls his fingers up just so, Thomas arches his back and cries out a plaintive, “Oh, GOD!” and Vincent loves loves loves when he can get Thomas to blaspheme. Laughing, he leans down to keep pressing kisses over Thomas’s stomach, while he adds a third finger and starts to really put some power behind fucking into Thomas.

Vincent keeps going for as long as he can, stroking and rubbing at any part of Thomas he can get at, letting his fingers stretch him open. When Thomas seems like he’ll actually start crying, though, Vincent pulls his fingers and leans down to closely inspect his hole. Evidently not so far gone that he won’t be embarrassed by someone being eye level with his most intimate parts, Thomas tries to close his legs, but Vincent holds them open easily. Oh, and what a sight it is. Thomas is flushed and a little puffy and absolutely dripping, hole twitching like he’s trying to entice Vincent in.

With a shaky breath, Vincent raises himself up. Grabs a pillow and slides it under Thomas’s hips, grabs the lube and covers his entire length. Thomas pouts at not being the one to do that for Vincent, but Vincent doesn’t want his love to move an inch. He situates himself with Thomas’s legs around his waist and his eyes bright with arousal and anticipation.

The slide in is perfect. Vincent goes painfully slowly, and Thomas’s mouth keeps dropping lower as he pushes in a tiny bit at a time. Vincent is surrounded by soft, clinging warmth, and his beloved is mewling and moaning at every minuscule movement, and he never wants to leave this spot. It feels like the answer to all his prayers.

When he presses flush against Thomas, they both exhale and stay together for a moment, feeling their connection. But they’ve both been so worked up this evening, and Thomas begs out, “Oh, Vincent, fuck- fuck me, please, please-” he takes a deep breath and whimpers, “Fill me, please!”

“Don’t worry, darling,” Vincent gasps, starting to roll his hips, prompting new moans from his lover. “I’ll give you what you need. I’ll fill you - keep you full! Until you get pregnant, I’ll make sure you’re always full of me. A plug- fuck- I’ll get you a plug, so absolutely nothing drips out.”

Please-”

Vincent picks up the pace, fucking into Thomas hard. “Is this how you need it?” he says, hips snapping, “Is this how you need to be bred? I’ll give it to you. You should be like this always, wet and ready in my bed, ready for me to fuck you and fill you and ready to carry my children-”

“Yes,” Thomas wails, and he’s really crying now, tears streaming down his face and cock drooling. “Yes, oh, yes, Vincent, breed me, please, I want, I want, I need all of you- want to give you children- want to carry them, need to be so full of you, please please please-”

“A bitch in heat,” Vincent pants into Thomas’s ear. “That’s what you are, love, fuck, you need it, I know you do. Fuck, ohhhhhh, I’ll- I’ll give it to you whenever you need. In your office, in the gardens, fuck, whenever you need to be filled. I’ll bend you over and lift up your skirts and take care of you, breed you so full, fuck you every day, every hour until you get pregnant! And then- then your belly will swell and your tits will grow, and everyone will know, won’t they, that you were such a needy thing, that you took me in your- in your cunt, that I filled you up so much-”

“Yes, yes, oh god oh god fuck my cunt breed me please ohhhhhh-” Thomas tenses up in a familiar way, and without thinking about it Vincent shoots his hand to down to clamp around the base of Thomas’s cock hard.

“No,” he growls. “No, darling, you aren’t cumming until I’ve spilled everything inside you. That’s your pleasure, being so full of me, knowing you’re taking every bit of me. From now on, you aren’t finishing unless it’s with my cum inside you-”

“Yes,” agrees Thomas, helplessly, eyes rolling back and clenching around Vincent, and oh, oh, oh. With a snarl, Vincent slams in as deep as he can and spills, shaking and gasping, only focusing on pushing everything in as far as possible. When he manages to blink the spots away from his vision, his hips are still moving, still rubbing Thomas’s sensitive passage despite his own growing overstimulation. He doesn’t stop, finding a rhythm again and stroking Thomas’s cock. It only takes a moment before Thomas arches his back hard and cums with a scream, shooting all over his stomach and Vincent’s hand. Vincent works him through it, fucking him and rubbing him, giving Thomas every last bit of pleasure and then some.

When Thomas’s noises start to fade from happy to slightly pained, Vincent releases his cock and slowly, achingly slowly, starts to draw out of Thomas. Thomas lets out an unhappy sound when Vincent pulls all the way out, but he’s pacified when Vincent lays next to him and kisses him lazily. They stay that way for what feels like hours but is probably only minutes, pressed as close as they can together. Eventually, Vincent, aware that he isn’t the one who just got his brains fucked out, rolls out of bed to go to the bathroom, washing his hands and wetting a washcloth with warm water. When he returns, Thomas links one hand through his and watches with sleepy eyes as Vincent cleans off his stomach and both of their cocks. When Vincent brings the washcloth lower between Thomas’s legs, however, he lets out a little whine and shifts away.

“You don’t want me to clean you up there?” he asks, repressing a chuckle. Thomas blinks a little and says in a tired, teasing tone, “You said I should be full of you…”

“Fair enough,” Vincent agrees, laying back down. In the morning, Thomas will probably be upset over the stickiness leaking out over his legs and their sheets, but that’s a problem for tomorrow. Right now, he’s enjoying the simple pleasure of having Thomas curled up in his arms.

“Thank you,” Thomas whispers, after a while, as Vincent is drifting into sleep. “Thank you for giving me…for being what I need. I…”

Vincent, aware that the next thing out of Thomas’s mouth is likely to be an apology, and eager to cut that off, presses a kiss to the top of his head. “Thank you,” he replies, “for being you. Thank you for taking what I give you so beautifully and so well. You are my most treasured companion, my Thomas.”

Thomas makes a small, contented sound and burrows deeper into Vincent’s arms. Vincent lays there, listening to Thomas’s breathing even out and slow, and carefully, not wanting to jostle him, slides one hand down to rest just below Thomas’s belly button. Smiling for only God to see, Vincent closes his eyes and goes to sleep.

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