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Sex and Sermons

Havermouth, Eight Years Before

Cameron woke with a snort as the congregation rose and began to shuffle out of the church. He lifted his head from Heath’s shoulder and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth as he looked around guiltily.

It was a warm morning and the combination of the slightly stuffy church, and the boring sermon had dragged him into sleep – not that it needed to be a warm day for him to spend the sermon snoring on Heath’s shoulder.

“Sorry man,” he said to Heath, blushing. Somehow, sitting between his dad and Heath, his head always ended up on Heath’s shoulder, and every Sunday morning he’d leave a drool stain on Heath’s immaculate shirt by the time it was time to leave.

Heath never seemed to mind, though.

“It’s fine, I’d sleep through the bullshit myself, if I could,” Heath replied wryly. “But dad would notice and crack it with me when we got home.”

“Do you think he’s right?” Cameron wondered.

The topic of the sermon had been that homosexuality was not in God’s o
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