Sinful Desires

As soon as Dan laid eyes on that boy, he knew the thoughts inside of him were worse than unholy. They were God damn filthy.

Phil Lester, in all his splendor, stood slumped against one of the back podiums. His arms were crossed over his chest with a perpetually bored expression as his eyes glanced across the room. His lips were pierced to Hell with snakebites and in his ears were large black gages. He wore the traditional punk style well with a black leather jacket and ripped skinny jeans that showed off his curvesque figure. His expression wavered over towards Dan, who was caught staring. Phil’s raven hair swept from his eyes in a fluid snap of his neck. A piercing blue iris bore down on the brunet's form. Dan quickly averted his gaze to the floor, feeling his face burn like a heat lamp.

Dan's mother warned him about these boys. She warned him about how twisted they were and how unholy their temptation can make you. How they were the spawn of the Devil themselves and send up from Hell to do his dirty work.

Dan felt his mother tug at his sleeve, a silent order to sit down on a nearby pew. She hushed him- despite him not saying a word- and swiftly made her way outside the church doors. Drop-offs were always quick. Dan’s mother was a very busy woman. He let his eyes wander back over to where Phil had been but there was nothing but empty air in his place. Dan began to glance around the room, being as inconspicuous as possible. Where did he go? He had only looked away for a second-

“Hello there~” A deep voice purred in his ear.

Dan flinched back in the long backed bench, a small squeak escaping his lips as he floundered backwards. He looked up in horror to find the very ravenet his eyes yearned for looming over him. Dan couldn't move, watching those sharp blue eyes rake over him like a hungry predator.

Dan was at a loss for words. From far away, Phil Lester was pretty- but up close, the guy was so hot Dan felt himself sweat. His skin was unrealistically pale with the faintest of freckles dusted across his crooked nose. His eyes were dark with liner and unkept lust, a grin quirking it's way onto his lips. Dan's face grew three times brighter-

“-Lester!” A voice bellowed out from within a farther off crowd of Nuns.

An elderly woman, face grown bitter and frail with age, had began to storm over to where the boys were seated. As she made her way through the isles- rather awkwardly, holding her gown up from dragging across the ground- making a show of tapping her cane against the wooden pews.

“You leave that boy alone!”

She yanked the back of Phils jacket, yoking the tall punk up. Phil chucked at the Sister and shrugged her off his shoulders. She whacked him gently with her cane.

“Aw, lighten up, Sis,” he shot Dan a grin, the darkness in his eyes still glinting. “I was just being friendly.”

She only scoffed, pushing him along to the circle of other Sisters. She ushered him to sit in the front row. The two boys maintained eye contact until the ravenette had sat back against the bench, his attention drawn to an approaching volunteer of the Church.

Dan slumped back into his seat, turning his back to the crowd and covering his face with his hands. He breathed in heavily and exhaled shakily.

'Filthy. Dirty. What would mother say?’

He scolded himself, but that only made his heart beat faster. Disobeying his mother was not something he would do willingly, but it would be a lie to say the idea wasn't exciting.

Dan could tell his mother had recently became angry with him for the past two years, though he himself was uncertain why. She had stopped letting him bring friends over and had taken him to church on a more frequent basis. She had brought over girls and arranged dates with these strange women that Dan had little to no interest in.

His mother was always was telling him how she wished he'd marry already. How she wishes he would throw pity on one of these feminine strangers and court her into being a mother for his children. The idea made him want to puke. He didn’t want that. Dan was growing bored with the idea of the church, of marriage, of God, having too much crammed down his throat.

He groaned internally at the thought of what his mother would say about his sinful thoughts. How many lashes he'd receive from his father.

“Man shalt not lie with man,” he'd say-

-To which Dan would have to reply with a, “Yes, sir,” through his teeth and differing opinions.

He eventually caught his breath and steadied his beating heart. The friday went by as most of these seminars go. Stand up, sit down, recite. Stand up, sit down, recite. Take the bread, drink the wine, His body, His blood, Amen. Nothing unusual or interesting. The only real difference between today and most other days was how much attention he paid to the words on Phil Lester's lips instead of what was written in ink.

Dan would watch from the corner of his eye. The punk would say a few words then look up. Once or twice he asked the Revered if this was even ethical, to which he repeated himself as he did a thousand times before. that “the Lord's words were to be heeded,” -or something. He wasn’t paying much attention.

Dan would watch Phil roll his eyes. His tongue would dart out from behind sharp teeth to wet his lips. The piercing he had lodged in the muscle would crack softly against his teeth. Dan watched how his tongue would flit over the metal on his lip before disappearing into his mouth to speak again. Dan liked to imagine what those piercings might feel like against his own lips. Cold, probably. He wondered how many kisses would it take for them to become warm over his skin. If they'd taste like iron or pennies, or if he tasted-

‘No! Dirty! Nasty, isn't it?’ Dan scolded, but he couldn’t help but ponder on it.

Was this the Devil's temptations? Could it really be that bad? Mother would never find out of his thoughts and there were no real consequences for daydreaming, were there? To Hell with purity, he wanted Phil Lester.

The ravenette caught Dan staring again. The brunet blushed but couldn't find the strength to pull away as Phil lifted a hand to his face. The punk hollowed his cheeks and made a motion most inappropriate for their setting towards Dan. The brunet felt his catch fire. Frantically he glanced around the room to make sure no one saw.

His attention was dragged back by a loud slap. Phil had gotten smacked by one of the younger Nuns- right on the noggin. The ravenet haunched down and rubbed his hair, hissing at the touch. Dan stifled a giggle. Both Phil and the Sister looked over towards Dan. Phil smiled while the Sister jabbed her finger accusingly in Dan's direction, an angry frown gracing her features. Dan stopped his giggles as the Nun turned away. She looked back up at the minister that had still been droning on like nothing had happened.

Dan and Phil had kept eye contact for a while. The brunet had grown to like those bright blue eyes- before they yet again turned dark in under a second. He flinched, forcing a gulp to strain his throat. Phil scrunched up his nose in a sinister grin before turning back around. He would glance at the flustered boy out of the corners of his eyes as the symposium continued.

When the seminar was over, there were tables of arts and crafts and snacks laid out for the daycare that ran after hours. Dan had been forced to stay and was the oldest one there. He stuck out like a sore thumb, too. Tall and lanky with brown curly hair. Today though, he wore a nice button up shirt with a pink tie and black skinny jeans. He didn't like dressing up and was most comfortable in a big sweater decorated in soft pastels. His mother was kind enough to buy some of them for his birthdays and on special occasions, much to the distaste of his father.

He stood around the tables awkwardly. Little kids stepped around him, all eagerly grabbing to get to their snacks. Each one got a little fruit cup and a sandwich served on tiny plates.

“This one's for you, dear,” one of the more elderly, kinder Sisters offered him a small tray with a plate.

Dan generously took the snacks and thanked her. She nods and turns back to the children. His stomach rumbled as he peeled back the lid of the fruit cup awkwardly- no, skillfully - and took out his plastic fork. He stabbed one of the peaches inside. He turned around to find a seat when he crashed into one of the basement support beams.

The fruit cup toppled over, spilling all down his front and dripped onto his lap. It probably wouldn't have been so bad, just a small mess if Dan wouldn't have flinched, causing his sticky peanut butter and jam sandwich to fly up and smack him in the face. His tray clattered to the floor. He froze himself in place with half a sandwich stuck to his cheek. His napkin and plate fluttered to the ground as the fork and fruit cup rolled away from his trembling legs. He looked down at himself before looking at the faces around him. The room was silent. Most of the Church were shocked in a mixture of smiling children. The elderly Sister was the first to speak.

“-Oh my! Come now, let's fix you up!” she gently patted his back and led him into a small closet room.

Dan followed her, hands trembling from the adrenaline and embarrassment. He wondered if Phil had seen, he hoped not. He hoped the ravenet had just gone home already. The room smelled of mothballs and old people. The musty, time agen odor followed them around, looming like death. The slice of bread fell from his cheek and onto the floor with a sticky plop. The Abbess turned around, smiling and shaking her head.

“Oh, look at you,” she clicked her tongue and licked her thumb, moving on her tiptoes to reach Dan's slimy cheek, “I remember when you were just a little one, always making a mess like this,” she teased, clicking her tongue again when she saw that she was only smearing around the peanut butter.

She turned to a big dresser and opened up a drawer, “Only, you made those messes on purpose! Oh, ho!”

She clutched her heart and walked to the doorway.

“You get cleaned up now, there are many shirts like yours in there. Your mother will never know!” She whispered with a frail wink before shuffling out the room, broom in hand.

The door closed behind her with a gentle thunk, filling the room with static-like silence. He looked down at himself. A mess. Dirty. Gross. Dan leaned over the drawer to root around inside, pulling out a nice white button up much like the one he had on. He looked from the shirt to himself, comparing the two before tossing it on top the dresser.

He began to unbutton his shirt after deeming the faux polo resembling enough. He moved gracelessly, shimmying out of the fabric without staining his black tank top underneath.

“ Undershirt ,’ not a tank top ,” he knew his father would say.

He’d be furious with this soiled shirt. He hoped his parents wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

What Dan wasn’t aware of was the fact that someone had been lurking in the shadows, just beyond the closed door. He tossed the jumper and his thoughts to a heap on the floor. Next came his belt and skinny jeans. And what everyone else hadn't realized is, that in the midst of the commotion, Phil had been able to slip away and hide from the congregation.

The ravenet slunk through the shadows quietly in search for a way to escape this Christian Hell. He came to a mahogany door. The wood was heavy and cold under his touch. Phil looked back to the sect- they were still busy cleaning up the mess that some kid made. He turned back to the door, resting an ear against the wooden surface. There was no sound from inside so he turned the doorknob quietly, slipping in and shutting the opening just as softly behind him. He about to turn to make his exit when he was stopped dead in his tracks.

He watched Dan drop his pants.

Pretty pink boxers were flaunted and out on display as Dan stepped from the pant legs. Phil had to physically restrain himself from just reaching out and divulging himself in the brunet right there. This wasn't planned. Dan wasn't supposed to be in here- or undressing in front of him. As much as Phil loved it, Dan stood between him and the exit. But... those pretty pink boxers and tight little ass begged him to stay and play.

The rational part of his brain told him to just sneak away now, get out of this place while you can, jerk off to this thought later, but the other, more hungry half, begged to see more.

He had no control over the steps he watched himself take. He felt his toes curl and crack under his boots in anticipation. A shaky hand reached out, so close to the tan skin of Dan's hips with only an ounce of hesitation. In this short pause he could feel the warmth of Dan’s skin on his fingertips. The brunet was completely unaware of his presence and Phil could barely deny himself any longer.

Without much impulse control, he lunged forward. A hand pressed hard between Dan's ass and the other forcing itself down on his neck- bending the brunet over the dresser. The wind was knocked from Dan's lungs. All that escaped was a broken wheeze as his legs shook defenselessly. Phil sighed, pressing his nose between Dans warm, trembling shoulder blades.

“Oh, Danny,” Phil groaned against his skin, squeezing and rutting against Dan's ass, gently grinding against him, “do you have any idea what you do to me?”

Dan shuddered, taking deep, shaky breaths to refill his deflated lungs. He could feel his heart drum against the cold wooden dresser. The grip on his neck made it hard to move or see anywhere.

“Phil?” He asked coyly, moving slightly to see the raven haired boy behind him.

“Hope you weren't expecting someone else,” Phil remarked, sinking his teeth into the warm, tender flesh.

Dan wheezed out quietly as he relaxed his hips slightly.

He froze when he felt Phils hard-on press against his boxers. Dan curled in on himself, moving his body into the dresser. Phil moaned out quietly, his hips following to press against Dan. A tingle of friction brushed between the two. Phil began to suck and lick the back of the brunet’s neck until a bright red bruise bloomed on the surface of the skin.

“Danny, I want you,” Phil growled into Dan's shoulder, biting and tugging on the skin of his ear, “Oh, Danny,” he whined, grinding needily into the shaking brunet, “Danny, I want you so bad,

“Please Danny, don't make me ask again, please?” He rubbed Dan's tense shoulder blades up and down, lingering nimble fingers on the soft love handles of his hips, “oh, please.”

Dan felt the heat rise from his chest to his neck. Consent was hot, especially coming from Phil Lester. Dan's mind was a mess. A hungry, desperate mess. Oh, how he wanted this. He wanted this so bad. This was so dirty, so nasty, so- sinful. They could be caught here! His mother, his father, how disappointed they'd be. How many lashings he’d receive. He couldn't-

His thoughts were tossed to Hell when Phil ground himself down hard, licking and biting the brunet’s shoulders roughly.

“Ph-il, I, uh, okay, yes-” Dan cursed his horny concise.

This was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong !

But why did it feel so right?

Phil ripped down Dan's boxers. Black painted nails scraped subtle skin, causing the nerves inside the brunet to jump with excitement. He let out a shaky whine, then a whimper as Phil pressed himself to Dan, his clothed erection straining inside his pants and oh, so evident. Dan found pride in knowing the effect he had on the bad boy, gathering up the courage to wiggle his hips some. Phil jolted and purred, grasping those hips roughly.

“ O-ooh , Dirty Danny,” He traced hearts onto the tan boys skin, leaning over him to kiss his neck softly, “You want me, Danny? Tell me you want me,”

Dan felt Phil pull away slightly, then the jingle of a belt buckle. Dan felt his palms grow sweaty, his nerves coming back to him all at once by the time Phil had gotten his own pants around his knees.

“Don't you want me, baby?” Phil cooed, “Tell me you want me inside you, c'mon,”

Phil slid a hand down Dan's thighs, trailing feather-like fingers back up and slipping one of the digits around his hole. Dan tensed up, a throaty moan forcing its way out when Phil curled it upwards and entered him.

“Danny,” Phil growled, roughly slipping in another.

Dan panted and moaned, his nails painfully digging into the dresser. Splinters would surely be stuck under his skin, but his mind was too cloudy to feel anything but the sensation inside him. He could barely feel the sharp teeth being pressed against his collarbone. He felt Phil move his fingers in and out, a scissor-like rhythm inside him, stretching and pulling uncomfortably, but he'd be damned if he wanted it to stop.

Working up enough gumption to speak, Dan breathed out, “ Yes , yes I do , I want- ah .”

He could practically feel Phils grin- and he did feel the wet slap as Phil spit onto his digits. The hand holding his hip in place tightened its grip while the fingers inside of Dan worked faster.

“You want what?” Phil had three fingers inside the brunet and Dan was taking it like a whore, needily pushing back and fucking himself on them.

“Oh fuck- y-you! I want you ! Oh fuck ,” Dan grunted out, growing impatient. “ Fuck me .”

He gave a protesting whine as the punk removed his fingers, ripping the boxers further down around Dan's knees. Phil moved to hold the back of the brunet's neck, pressing it down on the dresser while the other hand busied itself with rubbing and lining up his cock with Dan’s entrance. The brunet shivered, suddenly aware of how cold the wooden dresser had become.

Phil pushed in smoothly. Dan groaned at the amount of force that pressed itself into his back. Wet and hot, and oh, so filthy . The punk went slow, taking his time itching inside. His bright blue eyes rolled back up into his head in ecstasy. Dan moaned out in pain, tears pricking at his eyes.

“Ah, are you in yet?” He had bitten open his lip in an attempt to keep quiet. Blood dribbled into his mouth gently, a uneven heartbeat evident in the broken skin.

Phil moved in further, greedily dragging it out. “Almost, baby. Ah , you feel so good, ”

Dan sighed and tried to go as limp as possible until Phil suddenly snapped his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt.

Dan choked.

Phil moaned.

“ How's it feel? ” The punk shimmied his hips, cock still buried deep within the brunet. “I'm all the way in.” His eyes were closed as he enjoyed being so deep inside of the boy beneath him.

“ Ah ! It burns,” Dan choked on his tears.

Phil chuckled, leaning down to kiss his neck tenderly.

“It won't burn forever, baby, just relax-” he whispered between kisses, “just relax,”

Dan nodded, taking deep breaths. Phil hummed at this, contently tiling his head back and enjoying the wet heat around his cock. How he wanted to just fuck the brains out of this boy, but he had to be gentle. He had to be gentle if Dan was going to enjoy it.

Slowly, Dan calmed himself down and gave a small nod for Phil to start moving again. The punk complied eagerly, slowly pulling out before pushing back in. Each time he backed out, he gained more speed and slammed inside with more confidence. Dan rocked back and forth with each thrust, rattling the wooden dresser. The room smelled like sweat and the sound of skin slapping skin was vulgar, loud, and slow.

Dan's throaty moans were even more so. His hoarse lungs pushed the air out faster than he could suck it into his lungs. Phil only picked up speed, slamming into Dan hard with quick, sturdy thrusts. Faster and faster he went, letting out guttural moans and groans, struggling to keep himself quiet He could feel himself nearing his climax, and if those throaty moans were anything to go by, Dan was too.

The slapping was unbearable. It became louder and harder. Phil’s trusts got more sporadic and uncoordinated. The room was filled with the smell of sex. Phil inhaled the scent of Dan’s skin, biting and licking any flesh he could rake his tongue across. Dan’s ass was raw by the time he came, clenching around Phil tightly, goraning like an absolute whore. He gave a hoarse scream, barely anything escaping his battered windpipe- caught in the bliss of his orgasm. He let Phil ride him until he came too, spraying his sticky seed deep inside of him.

Phil moaned as his muscles relaxed. He tossed his head back, pulling his softening cock out with a sick, wet pop. Dan's legs shook helplessly as the warmth faded. Phil regained himself quickly, gathering his own clothes and dressing himself skillfully. He gave Dan's raw ass a hard smack.

“You better be here Sunday.” He growled, yanking Dan into a needy kiss.

Tongue on tongue, the piercings were hot against Dan's dry, cracked lips. They burned like Hell against his mouth, but Hell was fucking bliss. Blood that had dried the cracks shut broke and the flesh dribbled red between their tongues. They separated sloppily, saliva trailing between their teeth. Phils mouth was red with the fresh blood, his smirk was venomous and dripping. Dan marveled at the sight.

“ I will ,” The brunet wheezed out.

His back burned and his windpipe was sore. His hips were surely bruised as he could feel his heartbeat beneath the flesh. One more chaste kiss was pressed to those swollen lips before Phil rushed off, the door softly opening and closing behind him, leaving Dan to pass out in his mess.