Forgive Me: Marked By The Priest

Aiden’s POV

“Do you want me to f*ck you harder?” Chris’ voice is deep and sexy.

“Yes, yes. Please I’m com-”

"Shh, baby. You need to call me by my name," he whispered.

"Chris, Chris... please..." I begged.

"No, no, no." He shook his head, signaling that I had given him the wrong answer. His shaft kept lingering around my entrance, the massive, searing head rubbing against me. I could feel the pre-cum wetting my thighs and glutes, but he refused to sink in, punishing me ruthlessly by staying just outside.

Finally breaking down, I cried out at the top of my lungs, "Daddy, sorry! I was wrong... Daddy, please!"

A sudden, forceful thrust cut my pleas short.

"That’s my boy," he groaned. "That’s more like it."

*****

I woke up hard, the whole scenario was still so clear.

My boxers felt warm and sticky, completely ruined, and before I could even catch my breath the door creaked open.

Jovian walked in holding a mug, then he sat gently on the edge of my bed with a look on his face that expressed genuine concern. “Hey Aiden, you okay? I heard you making little sounds in your sleep. It sounded like a scary nightmare. Here, I brought you some warm milk. Drink this, it’ll help calm you down.”

My heart started racing fast, panic rushing over me as I quickly pulled the blanket up higher, hiding how damp I still felt. “Jovian… it was nothing serious,” I whined softly, my voice coming out all small and shaky. “Please don’t look at me like that.”

He smiled kindly and brushed my messy hair back with fingers. “Then why were you moaning so loudly ? You can tell me anything. I won’t judge you, I promise.”

I shook my head quickly as I clutched the blanket tighter. “Nooo, please don’t ask… it’s nothing good.”

Jovian nodded softly. “Alright then. I'm here if you need to talk.”

Jovian…. Jovian, a very kind roommate of mine who loved geeky stuff. He had this bright red hair that stood out compared to mine, and he had freckles across his face. His build was pretty similar to mine.

By the time I shuffled into the living room, Ethan was already up, shirtless and golden and taking up the whole rug with his push-ups.

Meet Ethan. A golden-haired young man from a wealthy family.

A warm, outgoing, and has a tall, powerful physique that made everything he did look effortless.

“Morning, Aiden,” Ethan panted without looking up, that easy, cocky drawl in his voice like he was just messing around. “You gonna stand there staring or help me count? I like knowing you’re watching. Makes the reps feel worth it.”

“Twenty-three,” I muttered, voice still scratchy.

He laughed, big and rolling, and pushed to his feet in one smooth motion. “Twenty-four was me, thanks. You’re welcome for the free show, Aiden.”

He wiped sweat from his forehead with the hem of his shirt, abs flexing as he did it, but the grin on his face stayed relaxed. No wonder he attracts all the girls….. such a damn flirt.

“Figured it might wake you up better than whatever Jovian brought to you.”

His eyes flicked over me once, playful but casual. “You look like you could use a minute. Go ahead and shower, water’s already running hot. I’ll yell for you when it’s time so you don’t miss anything. I won’t let you be late, man.”

I blinked. “You… what?”

He shrugged, still grinning, completely chill. “Can’t have you heading out all tense. Not on my watch. You're welcome. ”

I mumbled something that wasn’t quite thanks and slipped into the bathroom before my face could give anything away.

The water was perfect, steaming, just shy of scalding and I let it warm me up for a few minutes, trying to loosen the knot in my chest.

When I stepped out with a towel slung low around my waist, Ethan was leaning against the wall in the hall like he’d been waiting. He held out a fresh towel, his gaze drifting over me once.

“Better?” he asked, that flirty half-smile tugging at his lips.

He’s standing a little too close again, I thought, feeling that familiar feeling of tension low in my stomach. The way he looks at me sometimes…

I quickly shoved the thought aside. He’s straight and has literally fucked half the prettiest girls in school. I’m just overthinking because I’m gay. It’s nothing.

Chris appeared in the doorway then, like my thoughts had dragged him there. 

Yes, it's him-the Chris from my dreams.

In my fantasy, I beg him to fuck me while screaming  'Daddy.’

But in reality, he's just my cold, distant iceberg of a roommate. 

Chris had a tall, lean build. 

He came in hoodie  up. Earbuds in. Expression blank as a fresh install of Windows. He was a Computer science major. The guy I’d been stupidly in love with since the day he moved in. A very cold and aloof person. He was as tall as Ethan but had a leaner build

Jovian was already moving around the kitchen, cleaning up the mugs, soft and steady like always. “I’ll walk you to the subway,” he said quietly when I finally emerged dressed. “It’s on my way to the studio anyway. Don’t argue. I like making sure you get there without… disappearing into your head.”

Ethan clapped me on the back too hard, always too hard, but the touch stayed a beat like he was checking I was solid.

“Go get that bag, baby. We’ll be here when you get back. Don’t forget that. Any of it.”

I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt, but my voice came out smaller than I wanted. “Truly.”

“Oh no! Thank goodness I realized earlier, I almost forgot my purse.”

“I'll wait here.” Jovian said

I went back into the room to get it and that's when I saw it.

A brand-new black hoodie was folded neatly on my bed. It looked soft, with the tags still on.

It was exactly my size. My old hoodie had been falling apart for weeks, the sleeves were frayed and the color was faded. It was my favorite because it belonged to Chris. But he left it because the thought of sharing it with me was disgusting to him. But anyway… I still had it.

My heart immediately skipped. I tried to sound normal. “Hey… who left this?”

Jovian looked up shrugged. “Wasn’t me.”

Ethan didn’t look away from his phone. “Nope. Not mine.”

I looked straight at Chris.

He sat by the window with headphones on. His fingers moved fast over the keyboard as code scrolled on his screen. He didn’t look up. He didn’t even stop. He acted like he hadn’t heard anything at all.

The small hope in my chest started to fade, but I tried again. “Seriously, guys… whose is this? It’s on my bed.”

Jovian looked at me again actually judging. “I already said it wasn’t me.”

Ethan smiled. “Same.”

I looked at Chris again.

He still didn’t move. Headphones on, typing away without any break. No glance at me. Like our whole conversation didn’t matter to him.

Of course. Chris probably just felt sorry for me. He saw how bad my old clothes looked and left the new hoodie while I was in the shower. He didn’t want people thinking he had a pathetic, broke roommate. That was all. Nothing more. He was embarrassed by me.

Besides, who could ever love someone like me anyway?

I swallowed hard. Broke and gay. I really should pick a struggle.

Instead, I picked up the hoodie and touched the soft material. My chest felt tight with a stupid, hopeless warmth. I held it close, trying not to make it weird.

“Thanks, to the goddess of course, she probably left this here” I yelled, already knowing I’d wear it the second I stepped outside.

I grabbed my backpack and slipped out, Jovian followed, we walked for a while and then he returned saying he felt a little tired and wouldn't leave me right at the stop.

The subway was packed worse than usual. I squeezed in near the doors, stupid, I know, but at least I could bolt if I needed to, and tried to make myself as small as possible. Phone out. Earbuds in. Pretending to scroll. Really just replaying the scene from my dream, his voice was rent free in my head, I kept feeling him over and over like the masochist I was.

Then the hand.

Right on my ass. A sudden squeeze with no hesitation.

My whole body jerked. I slapped backward fast, nails scraping knuckles. “Hey… fuck off.”

But the hand didn’t move. It squeezed harder.

I slapped again. And again. “I said stop.”

Nothing stopped. Instead the grip tightened, fingers digging in like he was claiming territory. The suit sleeve brushed my lower back. Expensive watch. Rich-guy cologne that made my stomach turn.

“Get! Your! Hand! Off! Me!” My voice cracked higher than I wanted. People around us stared at their phones. Nobody looked up.

He yanked hard. The seam of my jeans tore, loud and ugly. His fingers shoved under the rip, inside my boxers, rough and invasive.

I slapped wildly now, wrist burning, over and over. “Stop fucking stop…” Whisper-shouting because yelling felt like it would shatter me completely. The train lurched but didn’t stop.

The next station was forever away.

He pressed closer. Breath on my neck. Fingers probing deeper. I bit my lip until blood flooded my mouth. Tears stung hot. Don’t cry don’t you dare cry you fucking baby…

“Please,” I whispered.

Minutes went on… Ten? Fifteen? Longer? He pretended to have removed his hand. But every jolt of the train shoved his hand “accidentally” deeper.

My legs shook. My knees wanted to buckle. Inside my head, I was screaming every insult I could think of but out loud, It was just broken little gasps and stops over and over like a prayer nobody answered.

The brakes finally hit. The doors opened and the guy moved ahead of me and whispered into my ear, “You have such a soft and fuckable ass.”..

It sent current down my body. I only wished I had taken my self defense classes a little more seriously, how could he even dare say that after assaulting me.

My body still trembled from the violation, tears finally spilling over as I disappeared into the station crowd alone, shaking, and wishing I could just vanish for good. But I didn't have the time to even disappear, I had a tutoring session I needed to attend.