I knew that if I didn't leave him then and there in the bathroom, I would go crazy.

And by going crazy I meant either fuck him, or, if he wouldn't have me, lay down naked on the floor and masturbate to the very fucking sight of him.

So I left. I called the office getting an officer to come in immediately and left.

I didn't go back to the office. Instead, I went home early, something that was incredibly rare that I did. I noticed my hands were trembling as I tried to unlock my door yet failed, again and again. When I finally managed to let myself in, I had to lean against the front door to my multimillion dollar apartment and slide down. There, I breathed slowly, collecting myself.

What the fuck had just happened to me? I had done rope many, many times before, with girls and boys alike, and had almost always managed to build up to a connection. But this... This had been a whole other experience entirely. His body language, so vivid, so alive, his eyes letting me straight into his mind... How would I ever recover from this?

I took my clothes off right then and there, then I went to my large bathroom with the rain shower, turned it on so it was scorching hot, and sat down. I let my hands slide down my chiselled chest, over my rock-hard abdomen, grabbed my dick that was pulsating and painful from having been erect for so long. It was so sensitive, I let a shout out as I just grabbed it.

I masturbated the fuck of myself, my eyes closed, an image of him being tied up by me playing up in my mind... So strong, so dominant, yet so willing to be dominated by me.

I came within ten seconds.

I washed my body, my hair, my face and then, I fucked myself again. I was still naked as I cooked for myself, then put on some clothes and went on doing chores in my home to keep my mind distracted from him.

It wasn't until I went to bed that night that I realised I hadn't even thought about porn.

He seemed to freeze when he caught my eye from where he was standing at the altar.

I had to admit, I thought he looked fucking hot in his priest robe. It made me want to... Do things to him. Things I couldn't even begin to fathom yet.

I was touched, though, to see the relief in his face. I felt it, too; toying him with my absence had been painful in a way I had never before experienced. And I wasn't even supposed to be here; an officer was. But there was no way I would stay away from protecting him when he was holding his first worship service since the incident of his last one. And I loved it, even now, when we were quite a distance apart.

I kept his gaze, playing with it in a way that seemed to be a thing between us. Then, he took a deep breath, parted his lips...

And began chanting.

I just stared, lips parted. He had a lovely tenor voice that he somehow managed to amplify so that it echoed all over the cathedral without him wearing anything sound-enhancing. He chanted in a language I guessed was Latin, and sometimes, the worshippers joined in, but even then, his voice was the strongest. The technical difficulty behind what he was doing went beyond me and suddenly, my ability to shoot an apple from a distance straight through its core didn't seem all that impressive anymore.

Shiver after shiver ran through my body. He didn't let go of my eyes once. Not even when he spoke to his audience; he was only looking at me, only had eyes for me. When he started chanting again, I felt my knees go weak, and I started tapping my foot against the floor, my finger against my forearm that I still had crossed over the other; I wanted this fucking service to end.

It did, without incident, after an hour that felt like one hundred lifetimes. People came up to him and he spoke to them, took their hands, smiled at them, but he kept looking at me, letting me know that he craved to come to me as much as I craved it.

Finally, he was free, and I thought I saw a blush on his face as he stepped towards me and also some relief that he was safe. My heart was pounding, and I shifted nervously from one foot to the other, uncrossed my arms as he approached...

He hugged me. He just came to me and hugged me, as if we had known each other for eons. He placed his arms around my neck, put his hands on my back and hugged me tight. My hands went around his waist on their own, pressed him to me. He smelled of a rose cologne I loved on him, but also something else that went deeper; the scent of him.

"Hi", he whispered into my ear.

"Hey, you", I purred warmly.

Somehow, we ended up walking through the cathedral together. We didn't talk, and walked a polite distance from one another, but the electricity between us was insane, so much so that I was afraid the people who walked by us would see it in the form of lightning bolts.

"You look good in civil clothes", he said.

"You look good in your priest robe", I retorted, my voice flat which had exactly the effect I wanted; Madara looked down with a small smile.

He kept walking with me, took me to tombs and altars and artworks and amazing corners nobody who didn't spend a considerable amount of time here would notice. Then, we went out, into the sunny park surrounding the cathedral. The birds were chirping happily around us in the light that still spoke of early morning, and as I turned my face up towards the sky, I dared to take his hand.

He didn't react any more than braiding his fingers tightly together with mine, which still felt like an enormous reaction.

He unlocked and opened the door to his small cottage, a gush of red in all that green, and let me in. The scent of wood inside was lovely, its loveliness enhanced by the fact that you could also discern his own scent.

He took me to a living room, and as I sat down on the couch, he sat down on his knees on the carpet right in front of me. I put my hand on his cheek and he leaned against it, like a cat, and then turned to kiss it. I smiled.

"Will you tell me now?" I asked. "Why did you accept this role with all of its hardships?"

I was afraid he would misunderstand, see the question as a way for me to blame him as a victim instead of having to do with pure curiosity, but he didn't. At least not out loud. Instead, he remained quiet for a while before he answered.

"When I got the question to become the deacon here, it didn't pass me by that I could decline to show my support for the victims. And maybe, I should have. But there was something else that needed my support, and that was my religion... Catholicism. Don't get me wrong", he added hurriedly. "It's not that I believe that I'm a good enough man of church to carry Catholicism up after this decline. But I believed that I could at least do something." He sighed. "If I took on this role, I knew I would be put in a position where I could give some hope back to the people who loved the religion but had lost hope in it. To show people that there is some good in Catholicism, Tobirama." I jerked as he said my name. He had a soft way of saying it that I adored. "I believed, perhaps foolishly, that there was at least a chance that people would see me as the opposite of the man who came before me. As someone who created a safe space, not despite me being young and alternative but because of it."

He paused, which I appreciated because it gave me time to process what he had just said, try to land in what an amazing human being I thought he was. He took my hand, held it close to him like an anchor. He was looking down now.

"I guess you can concentrate it down to just one thing", he said, still looking down.

"And what is that?" I asked mildly.

Then, he looked up and met my cold gaze with his warm one, our eyes being opposite poles of magnets pulling us together.

"God", he said. "I did it because of God."

I leaned forwards, put my hand on his cheek and kissed him.