Entry tags:

fic, lds original fic, mature fic

Original Fic Post: And It Came To Pass [4/7]
Title: And It Came To Pass [4/7]
Author: Stoney
Summary: Two guys on an LDS mission come out of the closet and put their houses in order. About as blasphemous (to Mormons) as it gets, so leave your religious piety at the door, or move along.
Rating: NC-17
A/N: Meta on the LDS church within, but nice and buried so it doesn't (hopefully) read like an encyclopedia. This all started from the MormonsExposed.com calendar featuring these two guys (last names made up by me so I won't get sued) AUSTIN YOUNG and BRANDON CHRISTENSEN. This is a made up story, anything resembling reality is coincidental.

Previous chapters: [1] [2] [3]

* * * *
CHAPTER FOUR
* * * * *
“And if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost."  (Moroni 10:4, BoM)


Austin woke up to Brandon’s snoring over in his bed a few feet away. Brandon had crawled into his own bed after a few hours of them both trying to fit into the one bed, and had fallen into his typical deep sleep. Austin swung his legs onto the cold floor and scrubbed his face. It was easy to believe he had imagined it all. The dark bite mark on his shoulder was a harsh reminder that he hadn’t. Fortunately, his dress shirt’s collar would cover the mark.

He got to the business of making breakfast and calling into the mission home. That attended to, he sat down to dig into his meal. He looked up from his eggs and Book of Mormon, opened next to his plate, to see Brandon sitting across from him. Brandon gave him a shy grin.

“Hey. Thanks for the eggs. Any assignments today?”

Austin pushed the jam towards Brandon and buried his face back into his scriptures. “Nope. Just the usual.”

“Well. I think we need to continue this trend of doing the unusual.”

Austin pinked and looked up, the fork trembling in his hand. “W-what?”

“Well, there are loads of tourists down by the Gaudi temple, you know, La Sagrada Familia. Could be a good place to go fishing, plus, we can see the sights before we’re transferred off to the boonies.”

An awkwardness fell over the two of them at the word “transfer.” The rational part of Austin’s mind thought it would be the best thing for them both, while the newly awakened emotional part was overcome with sadness and fear at the thought of not having Brandon as a companion any longer.

They finished breakfast in silence, straightened up the table and spent the required hour in silent personal scripture study. Elder Christensen checked his watch. “Time to get a move on. Do you want to lead?” He knelt down in the center of the living room, looking up at Young with a calm face.

“No, that’s all right, you go ahead.” Young knelt down with his arms tightly folded against his chest.

Christensen waited for several beats, breathing deeply with his eyes closed. “Our Dear Heavenly Father, we thank you for this day and for the hope of finding those that would benefit from your Gospel in their lives. We thank thee for our health, for our minds, and for each other.”

A tremor shot through Austin at the use of “each other.”

“We ask that thou wilt bless us with clarity so that we may feel thy spirit move through us. That we may be inspired by the promptings of the Holy Ghost and have the strength to act on those promptings. We ask that thou wilt open our hearts and minds to one another, that we may work together to bring joy and hope to your children. Bless our leaders to have the strength of mind and spirit to lead us. Help us always, in this we pray, in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.”

Young sat on his knees for a moment, trying to catch hold of the clarity that had been so evident the night before. He felt a darkness inside of him, and his first thought was the Spirit had left him because of his iniquity. He knew that he should ask for forgiveness, but couldn’t bring himself to ask that just yet; he didn’t know if he even wanted to ask for it, if he would be honest with himself. That would be another first.

“Elder? You ready?”

Christensen stood over him, his hand outstretched. Young bit his lower lip and reached out.

*****

Elder Christensen swung his right leg behind the bike, coasting on one foot to the bike racks in front of the giant cathedral, with Young following suit. They both unabashedly stared at the enormous structure for several minutes along with the throngs of other tourists.

“Kinda makes the stories about the Salt Lake Temple taking forty years to build sound like nothing in comparison, huh? You know they won’t even be done with this until-“

“Thirty years from now, yeah, I know,” Young replied tersely. He automatically bristled at the negative statement about the Salt Lake temple, but knew that it was ridiculous to react that way. One was a piece of art, and the other was a house of the Lord.

Christensen looked at him sideways. “You alright?”

Young nodded curtly and started digging in his backpack for their proselytizing materials. It was stupid to be so defensive about a building. It didn’t matter. And if he would just be realistic, he would recognize that nothing he’d ever seen in his life could compare to the intricate details and the enormity of the Gaudi temple. He told himself he was just feeling a bit protective, that’s all.

They stood outside the temple offering greetings and smiles and pamphlets for those that would take them. Not many did. They helped a few older women carry heavy bags, watched a Russian couple’s dog while they went inside for the tour, and were offered bottles of water from a group of nuns passing.

They sat on a stone planter drinking their water. “You know,” Christensen gasped as he screwed the cap back on his water bottle, “I’ve always had a hard time accepting that nuns would be barred from God’s presence, given that they’ve devoted their whole lives to him.”

Young spun the plastic ring at the mouth of his bottle and nodded, taking in the concept as Christensen continued.

“Which is why I don’t really believe that.”

“You don’t? You can’t! What on earth are you here for, if not to make sure we baptize these folks so they can get to heaven?”

Christensen turned to look him dead in the eye. “Honestly? I came to test my faith. I’m here to see the world, to learn . . .” He shrugged. “I’m having a hard time believing all the things that don’t sound Christian to me.”

Young was seriously worried now. “Elder, do we need to talk to someone? The Mission President could be up here in a few hours, and-”

He was reaching into the front pocket of his backpack for the cell phone - authorized use, only - when Christensen grabbed his hand. “I’m sorry. I’m fine. Sometimes I just wonder if what we’re doing is right, that’s all. ‘Suffer the children to come unto me,’ is what Jesus taught, and I just.... I just have a hard time accepting that he would turn his back on people who live their life for Him just because they haven’t added their names to a certain team’s roster.”

Christensen put the phone back. He searched his companion’s face. “You’re not going to turn Oliver Cowdry on me, are you?”

Christensen laughed at that. “I’m not an apostate, if that’s what you mean. Are you telling me that you don’t question things? ‘The glory of God is intelligence,’ after all. I know we’ve been told to blindly obey, but I think we’re supposed to question. If we stumble, we can pick ourselves up again with a better understanding. I hated all those Peter Priesthood guys back home that just did everything automatically. They didn’t know why they were doing it, they just did. I want to know without reservation. Can you understand that?”

Young realized he could. That was what he wanted himself, but had felt spiritually weak for even thinking it. But here was one of the strongest, most spiritual men he knew voicing his deeply seeded fears and needs. “Yeah, I can, actually.”

Christensen looked at his watch. “Hey, it’s getting on. We need to head back and check in.”

They rode their bikes back to their small apartment, and while Young called in to report their activities for the day, Christensen made their dinner. They talked about contradictions they had found in their studies and what they could possibly mean as they ate.

“Faith. It’s a test of faith. Anytime we don’t understand something it’s. . . . Well, that’s what my dad always said,” Young finished lamely.

Christensen rested his forearms on the edge of the table, his head hanging down. “Would you do something for me? Would you give me a blessing? I’m having a hard time clearing my thoughts.”

This would be the first time that Young had ever performed that rite on his own. He knew he was fully qualified to do so, but it felt strange to not have his father or Quorum leader there, leading the prayer. He coughed nervously. “Um, yeah. If you’re sure you want me to be the one to do it.”

“Austin . . . I think I need it to be you.”

Christensen looked like he wanted to reach across the table and touch Young’s hand, sending a thrill of both fear and want through him; it seemed Brandon thought better of it at the last moment. Christensen stood and grabbed a chair, positioning it in the middle of the kitchen. He sat ram-rod stiff in the chair and closed his eyes, waiting. Young took a deep breath and took the little bullet casing-shaped vial off his key chain and spun the lid. The sacred oil inside had been blessed by one of the Apostles at the last General Conference.

He stood, wiped his slightly shaking hands off on his dress slacks, picked up the vial and attempted to clear his mind. He allowed a few drops of oil to land on Christensen’s head; they added a slick sheen to the crown of his dark hair. Young placed his hands lightly on his companion’s head and began.

“Elder Brandon Christensen, by the power of the Melchezidek priesthood that I hold, I anoint you with consecrated oil in the name of Jesus Christ. I also leave a blessing upon you.”

He heard the familiar words his father and his older brothers had spoken so many times before and tried to remember the prayers they had given but could only focus on the heat radiating from Christensen, warming his hands.

“That your heart will be healed and your spirit not broken.”

Christensen shifted in his chair and Young let the weight of his hands rest fully onto his head, the tips of his fingers threading through Brandon’s dark hair.

“I pray that you will be given the answers you so desperately and earnestly and righteously seek.”

His whole body was vibrating; he didn’t know the source of his words, but knew they spoke for him as well.

“I pray that you will feel whole and know your purpose both in this mission and in life. I do so in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.”

Brandon murmured “Amen” quietly and reached up with one hand to hold Austin’s in place. After a moment, Austin realized that Brandon’s thumb was moving back and forth along Austin’s index finger. Austin untangled his hands from Brandon’s hair and laid them on Brandon’s shoulders, giving them a squeeze.

There was something almost marital in what they had just done, something uniquely intimate. Austin had seen husbands give their wives and children blessings both in time of sickness and trouble. Austin’s father had always called the High Priests to come and lay a blessing on any member of their family, most likely assuming their higher authority would be a greater insurance against evil influences.

Brandon stood up and took Austin’s hand in both of his. His face had a soft glow about it, something peaceful and resolute. “I feel better already. I’m going to shower first, if you don’t mind?”

Austin stood still, watching Brandon walk away and strip out of his suit, the uniform of their order left in a heap on the floor. Were they truly powerful vestiges of God that could protect him from evil as he’d always been taught, or was it something in the person that made them worthy of God’s love? A twinge of understanding crept into him as his mind tried to dance around the real question he was unable or unwilling to ask himself.

It felt so natural practicing his religion with this man, sharing faith, and even more so the night before, what they shared together in his bed. Surely God, who commanded his children to ‘love one another” was a God of all forms of love?

On the heels of this came the lessons his father had taught him about the correct forms of love, and how anything that debased God’s laws came from the wicked, the unworthy. Austin thought of his father’s reaction if he ever found out what he had done. He could see his mother’s tearful face, the look of disgust on his brothers, hear the whispering of his shame in the halls of the church. He would most likely be excommunicated. Cut off from his family and from eternal joy.

All for having feelings for his missionary companion.

He sat on the edge of his bed still wearing his suit, hands steepled together and deep in thought. Brandon came into the room a few moments later still wrapped in a towel, his voice bringing Austin out of his thoughts.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just thinking things through.”

Brandon opened a drawer and pulled out a fresh pair of garments. “Well, maybe don’t do it so hard. Looks like your head is about to explode.”

Austin looked up to find Brandon grinning, but his eyes quickly shifted downward as Brandon bent over to step into his garments. Austin quickly looked away. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “That can’t be helping things. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He stood to leave and Brandon grabbed his arm. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“That’s not what my dad would say. That’s not what the other Elders would say.”

“Well, there’s something wrong with them, Austin.” He held Austin’s arm a bit longer, then dropped it. “What were you thinking about when I came in?”

Austin heaved a huge sigh and leaned against the door frame, one hand rubbing through his sandy blond hair. “You. I don’t understand what’s going on between us, man. One minute I think we’re the greatest priests ever and I feel so filled with the spirit when we’re out there preaching, and the next minute I’m thinking of how I wish you would -”

He blushed and looked at his shoes. They were in need of a shine. He’d think about that instead of thinking about Brandon kissing him again, touching him. “Never mind.”

“That’s what I keep thinking about, too.”

Austin, caught off guard, looked up. Brandon crossed the room to lean against the other side of the doorframe, opposite him.

“It can’t be wrong, Austin. I get why we’re taught not to have sex before marriage; our bodies are sacred, not to be used casually, I get that. But last night I felt closer to God than I’ve felt in a long time. Probably not since I baptized Sister Chus, to be honest. And that’s another thing. We’re taught that any sin will close the door to our success out here, and I’m the only one that’s baptized anyone. The only one that’s gotten us any further discussions.”

Austin thought about all Brandon said, was saying. He wanted so desperately to find the puzzle piece that would fit into the dogma he’d been taught as truth, the one thing that would make how he felt okay and not an abomination.

“Yeah, it shouldn’t feel good. Right. Does- does that make any sense?”

Brandon squeezed his shoulder and ran his hand down Austin’s tie, stopping at the tie-tack: Moroni blowing his horn, calling forth the righteous.

“It feels right because it is. I can’t help thinking,” Brandon squeezed the backing off the tie tack, the back of his hand hot and electric on Austin’s belly, even through the layers of dress shirt and garments, “that some of the things we’ve been taught aren’t right.”

Austin’s breathing was shallow. Brandon was loosening Austin’s tie and every brush of his fingers on Austin’s bare neck made his groin feel heavy and on fire.

“Things? What things?” His voice was barely a whisper, reverential and quiet like they were in church.

Brandon left the tie loose on Austin’s neck, but began undoing the buttons of his shirt one by one, his eyes intent on the task. “It’s like all the rules we’re told, all the lines we have to toe. They’re keeping us busy so we don’t notice all the great stuff out there. All the happiness we’re denying ourselves.”

Brandon ran the flat of his hand under Austin’s dress shirt outlining his pecs. His thumbs traced the sacred markings sewn onto garments over the nipple; Austin closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.

“It’s like the church is about the church and not about God.”

Austin bit his lip moistening it. A deep, well-conditioned part of his mind wanted to argue, to yell that it was almost treasonous, what Brandon was saying. But the part of him that was just waking up and noticing the world for what it was heard ideas he’d not been able to articulate on his own.

Brandon leaned forward, his bangs tickling Austin’s stubbled chin, and exhaled a hot breath along Austin’s bared neck. “ ‘In my distress I cried unto the Lord and he heard me.’ ”

Austin’s hand buried itself in Brandon’s dark hair, his weight resting against the door frame. With eyes closed he quoted, “ ‘My lips shall utter praise, when thou hast taught me thy statutes.’”

Brandon tugged at Austin’s shirt, pulling it off his arms, leaving him in his garments. He rucked up the top to feel Austin’s firm belly while tracing Austin’s ear with his tongue.

“‘ My tongue shall speak of thy word’ oh, Brandon that feels so-,“ Austin exhaled sharply and pulled on Brandon’s hair to bring his face level. “‘ Let thine hands help me; for I have chosen thy precepts.’ “

Brandon yanked the garment off and unbuckled Austin’s belt. Their lips crashed together, desperation for one another building as Austin kicked his pants and garments off. They fumbled awkwardly back to Brandon’s bed, hardly taking their hands from each other to stop from falling painfully against the mattress.

Brandon flipped Austin onto his back and straddled him. His eyes were heavy with lust and his damp hair stood in crazy spikes from being roughly handled. He looked like Lucifer himself. He ran his splayed hands from Austin’s shoulders to his hipbones, thumbs tickling the mat of dark blonde hairs below Austin’s navel.

He kissed and licked a trail from Austin’s neck to his navel as Austin tried to calm the frenzy building inside him. Brandon encircled his cock with tight fingers, leaned over, and licked the tip and the fight was over. Austin’s hand was in Brandon’s hair guiding him back towards his mouth.

“I’ve never done this before, you know,” Brandon murmured against Austin’s lips.

Austin chuckled, “You think I have?” As Brandon kissed a trail down Austin’s taut belly, he felt the last standing remnant of his prudishness, his closed-off nature fall away. With an impish grin he said, “’Even as you desire of me so it shall be done unto you.’”

Brandon stopped what he was doing with his tongue and laid his cheek against Austin’s hipbone, laughing. “I thought this wasn’t supposed to be funny, what we’re doing.”

Austin’s laughter died down and he smiled. “I think that’s a part of the whole ‘joy’ thing we’ve never had.” He ran his fingertips through Brandon’s hair, shocked at himself for not caring that he was lying naked in a bed with another man, a man who just happened to be his missionary companion.

“So do you want me to suck this thing, or not?”

Brandon’s shoulders shook with his stifled laughter, but stilled when Austin linked his hand with Brandon’s, bringing it back to his cock. Austin hissed and jerked when he felt Brandon’s mouth engulf him. It took a moment or two for them to figure out how it all worked; Brandon’s teeth scraped the underside once and Austin yelped in pain. Brandon made it all better in short time.

Austin felt an orgasm building in him, but didn’t know what to do. He stammered, “Brandon I’m going-- I can’t help it!”

Brandon pulled off and jerked him to completion. Austin’s toes curled and he whined as he climaxed. He fell back on his pillow breathing heavily. Brandon moved up next to him and buried his face in the crook of Austin’s neck.

Austin gasped, trying to catch his breath. “I see why that’s called something holy. Holy moley . . . .”

Brandon laughed against Austin’s neck, tickling him.

Austin turned his head, smiling. “We can’t go on like this, you know.”

The color ran out of Brandon’s face.

“These beds are too small for us.”

Austin popped up to his feet, momentarily embarrassed by his semi-erection that remained, but quickly ignored that when his eyes moved to Brandon lying naked on his back on the bed. He’d seen naked girls by accident before, nervously flipping the channels on his brother’s remote to something more chaste and honorable in case someone had walked in. He had felt weird for not being turned on by the images. He understood why, now.

“Come on. Get up and put your shoulder to the wheel, Elder.”

Brandon grinned and got to his feet. They made quick work of shoving the two twin beds together making a bed large enough to accommodate them both. They flopped back onto the bed, not quite touching each other. They had fully committed to something now, and it both frightened and exhilarated Austin.

“Do you want me to. . . you know.”

Brandon threw his arm over his eyes and cupped himself. “Yeah, I mean, you know… if you want to.”

Austin sat up, his weight on one hand as he looked down at the body being offered to him. Brandon was a thing of beauty, his body hard and chiseled, naturally tan, but darker on his arms where his short dress shirt sleeves came to an end. Below his waist, however, he was creamy white. The dark pubic hair stood stark against the light skin. Austin raked his fingers through it lightly, trying to calm his nerves. If he did this, it would mean he completely accepted who he really was.

He leaned over and traced the length of Brandon’s cock with his lips, his heart pounding. Brandon bent his leg, holding Austin tightly to him. Austin looked up and saw Brandon staring down at him, eyes heavy lidded, his thick lashes shading his pale green eyes. Austin ran the flat of his tongue down the underside of Brandon’s cock, watching his reaction. Brandon arched and licked his lips.

He liked that, then. He repeated actions that Brandon had done to him, listening intently for the deep grunt that signaled Brandon especially liked something. Austin’s mouth ached; he briefly wondered if that was something you got used to. He ran the flat of his tongue down the shaft again, but kept going. Brandon sighed a high-pitched gasp when Austin took his balls into his mouth, softly sucking them.

“Oh my go- not too hard, okay?”

Austin had an urge to taste everything, to explore everywhere. He didn’t know where this newfound daring had come from, he only knew that he wanted to hear Brandon make that noise again. The noise that said Austin was doing something that gave him pleasure. That was a good sound.

*****

They weren’t much for proselytizing the next few days. They slept in, entangled in their sheets and each other, hitting the “snooze” button on the alarm clock well beyond the 6:30 a.m. required wake up. They didn’t forget to call in at the appointed time, though. That would have brought trouble down on them, and they still believed they only had a short time before transfers were announced the coming Monday.

Some times they came at each other shyly, touching and exploring each other’s bodies with reverence; other times they were like animals, biting and grabbing each other, shoving the other against the wall in desperation to be together. Austin, on occasion, would feel pangs of guilt for giving in to temptation so easily, but each night they would kneel side to side, like a real couple, and say their prayers together, then climb into their modified bed.

All his life he had been taught that finding an eternal companion to love, honor, and cherish, to worship with, was one of the most important things he must do on this earth. The fact that the companion he had chosen was the same sex became irrelevant for the time being. All he knew was that for the first time in his life, Austin Young felt complete, like a real person with real feelings, not an automaton going through the motions. As the hymn went, his spirit, like a fire, was burning.

They attended the local congregation’s Sunday service as usual, choosing to sit in the back corner together instead of finding a family that needed an extra set of hands to help control the kids. Part of Austin felt shame and guilt, sitting in the familiar setting, hearing the same songs from his childhood, going through all the same rituals of sacrament and prayer that reminded him of growing up in his father’s house, all while sitting next to Brandon, knowing what they had done to each other only hours before.

But then there was another part of him, one that looked out at the congregation and saw the Spanish families cooing over their spouses, giving each other little kisses, smoothing back hair, the husbands putting their arms on the bench behind their spouse. He saw the approval of that love and yearned to feel the same acceptance, even though he knew that was an impossibility in the church.

The congregation stood for a benedictory song. Austin knew the song inside and out, and began singing in his deep, rich baritone without paying much attention to the words. He listened to how Brandon's clear tenor blended with his voice. As the last verse of the song began, Austin began to realize what the words were actually saying.

"All the hopes that sweetly start, from the fountain of the heart, all the bliss that ever comes to our earthly human homes, all the voices from above sweetly whisper: God is Love."

His voice cracked on the last low note, and he sat down quickly, fumbling in his bag to hide the emotions he couldn't hold back.

Brandon sat close to him and bumped his knee with his own. “Hey. You okay?”

Austin flipped the pages of his quadruple scripture set and nodded briskly. “Yeah. Just- We’ll talk later.”

Their Mission President approached them after Sacrament service. “Transfers are happening tomorrow, but you both know that, right?”

Austin’s heart was a lump in his throat. He tried to swallow it down.

“You two aren’t going anywhere, just a new companion for Elder May. And I’m going back stateside, which makes my wife unbelievably happy.”

They both looked up at him in shock.

“Young, you haven’t heard anything about this?” The president looked at Austin with surprise. “I thought your dad would have told you. Gosh, I guess he’s a stickler for the rules, then, eh?”

Austin nervously laughed, “Yeah, that’s my dad. A stickler.” He swallowed thickly and asked, “What does this have to do with my dad?”

“He’s the new mission president! Your mother and he moved up on Friday. You sure they didn’t tell you? He knows a bunch of the General Authorities, and since you were the last bird to leave the nest, they thought it would be a nice treat for your mother and an honor for your dad . . . ”

Austin knew the MP was still talking, but it sounded tinny and far away. His face was hot, his hands were like ice, and the weight of Brandon’s hand on his shoulder felt like it would crush the bones in him to dust.



Continues here...