Where the Devil Says Goodnight (Folk Lore 1)

Adam’s lips stretched into a smile. “Are you asking me for my personal opinion or that of exorcists?”

Was that… flirting?

“You know the opinions of exorcists, Father?” Emil teased and rested his temple against the wood, comforted as if Adam’s gaze was sunshine at the cusp of the summer.

Adam shrugged, seeming more relaxed now that there was a physical barrier between to keep them from jumping each other’s bones. “I’ve met one or two. Don’t tell anyone, but I think some of them are nuts. That is my personal opinion. Satan doesn’t just spoil cow’s milk like demons in old wives’ tales. His actions are more subtle. He courts us with promises of something pleasing, only to push us off the cliff when we least expect it. Metaphorically speaking, of course.”

“Is that something you encountered back in Warsaw?”

Adam rested his head against the lattice, and some of his pale hair snuck through it, as if it was reaching out to Emil. “Everyone has to deal with temptation. There are no true saints. Just look at how hard they tried to find witnesses to miracles for some of the recent beatifications. It’s easy enough to believe someone who lived two thousand years ago could have been this perfect human being who spoke to animals or made someone’s leg grow back, but even the best people sin, and the good they do is extraordinary in a mundane way.”

Emil snorted and moved his head so that it was aligned with Adam’s. “Blasphemy. Are you suggesting John Paul the second, the one and only pope who ever mattered, doesn’t deserve sainthood? You think that miraculous healing he supposedly performed didn’t actually happen?”

“I’m not suggesting anything,” Adam said, although he absolutely did.

This was fun.

“Why even become a priest if you can’t be a saint?”

Adam met his gaze, and for once kept it, pushing his hooks into Emil and anchoring him in the confessional. “I’ve always wanted to be a priest. My mom’s very religious, so I spent a lot of time in our local church. There was this particular priest, who was really good with children. Everyone liked him. He’d organize trips, and games, and he played the guitar so well. I suppose I idolized him a little bit. My Dad freaked out when he found me pretending I was celebrating mass in my room, but years later, I’m doing it for real.”

“So your parents supported your decision?”

Adam nodded. “Mom was always very worried for my soul, so I suppose she believes I’m safer this way,” he said, and for a moment, thick silence hung between them as Adam stared at his hands. Was he contemplating his very obvious interest in Emil and how his cassock offered zero protection from lust?

“Why would she worry? Were you not a good boy growing up?”

“I think she’s just very sensitive.” Adam gave a short laugh. “She doesn’t want me to be here, because she and dad had some poisonous mushrooms while on vacation in these mountains, and now she believes the devil resides here.”

Emil bit back a grin. “Maybe she just met me.”

Adam kept his laughter low. “You think she’d be afraid of a cute little boy?”

“You think I’m cute?”

“All children are cute,” Adam said but didn’t chastise Emil or try to change the topic.

“Is that really something a priest should say in today’s political climate?” Emil snorted when Adam’s eyes widened in panic.

“That’s not what I meant. Obviously,” Adam said, making the most adorably flustered expression.

Emil didn’t even care that he’d leave the church with an imprint of the criss-crossed lattice on the cheek. The shadows and silence created a sense of intimacy he wasn’t willing to let go of. “You never know what sins people have committed, Father. Me for example,” he sighed theatrically, “stone cold sinner.”

“Do you think this comes as a surprise?” Adam asked with a snort and rolled his face over the wood, their skin so close Emil could sense Adam’s citrusy aftershave.

“I haven’t yet said what sins I’ve committed, and you already judge me?”

“If this is to be a confession, let’s do it right. When’s the last time you’ve done this?” Adam asked softly.

Emil swallowed, both taken aback and drawn in by the lasso Adam had tightened around his heart. “At my confirmation. With Father Marek actually. I was so embarrassed.”

“It’s been a while, then. What sins do you remember committing since? Start with the most pressing ones,” Adam said, resting his ear against the grate, as if he wanted to drink up each of Emil’s words.

Emil smirked to himself at all the delicious sins he remembered. There should be no devil in a church, yet one was definitely whispering into his ear and enticing him into mischief. He craved to get under Adam’s skin just to see what could happen and the confessional setting was the perfect opportunity.