To James, time moved slowly.James simply looked at the stranger blanky, feeling a bit perplexed. He took in the gentle facial features contrasted by the thick mustache above his lip. It clashed with his boyish appearance but coincided with his tall stature. As his vision adjusted to the darkness, the young man's eyes shone brightly and looked at him with confusion. It was not till the scent of citrus and fried foods erupting from the basket in the man's slender hands hit James's nose that he dove back to reality.

"Miss Sharon wanted me to bring you some dinner," replied the man, pleading with his gaze for James to do anything at this point. James shook himself awake and nodded back.

"Uh, y-yeah! Thanks," replied James. He stepped back and beckoned him inside. "Please come in. The kitchen is there at the end of the corridor." The stranger nodded and entered the home, looking relieved.

In the light, the man's features were magnified. He was pale with a light sprinkle of freckles across his face and vivid green eyes. He was much prettier than James had guessed and was taken aback by his height. James comfortably stood 5'11" (6'0" when he was trying to impress) and yet this young man had several inches on him. James followed the man in and stared at his back, feeling oddly self-conscious. The slender stranger made his way into the kitchen and set the basket onto the kitchen table. His white t-shirt tightly gripped his skin and was sprinkled with sweat. The man took a navy-blue handkerchief from his right Demin shorts pocket and patted his brow. He smiled curiously at James who had been looking at him rather intensely. His smile was devilish and made James even more uncomfortable.

 Suddenly realizing he hadn't introduced himself and unsure of what to do, James stuck his hand out "I do not believe we have met before; I am James." He spoke quickly  and somewhat loudly, "I am taking on the duties left by Father Michael for the month." The man continued that devilish grin, putting put his handkerchief back into his pocket. 

He coolly replied, "I'm Claude. Miss Sharon likes to call me her nephew." Claude shook James's hand. "Do you mind if I take a seat?" 

James, somewhat flustered nodded, "Of course, of course. Please." He gestured for Claude to take a seat. Claude quickly collapsed onto the seat, still a bit out of breath.

From a cabinet, James took out a glass pitcher filling it with some water from the sink. While Claude fanned himself with his hand, James watched as his heaving chest lightly rose and fell. He didn't mean to stare but couldn't help it. He cleared his throat and tuned back to the now overfilled jug of water. 

"I think you're the youngest person I've seen in town," remarked Claude, looking at James with an odd smile. He laughed in response, shutting off the water and pouring his visitor a glass. 

"I just arrived today," replied James taking a seat across Claude. "I was driving in from Providence." Claude accepted the glass before him and took a large gulp. He exclaimed a breath of relief, "Ah that was needed." He then looked puzzled at James 

"You're from Providence?" 

James shook his head. "Oh no, I teach there. I was born and raised in this town."

"I was about to say! You do not sound like a New Englander."

"Really? I feel like my accent has been lost since moving from here."

"No, it's still slightly twangy." James noticed that Claude's eyes were glistening with every word and that his deep voice was stained with a slightly sweet tone. "What do you do in Providence?" 

"Oh," James replied quite perplexed. He hadn't been asked about his profession for so long. Usually, he donned a collar and people were able to connect the dots. However, James was quite sure that Claude was asking about his position back home. "I'm a professor of theology. I mostly teach undergraduates and some master's students." Claude's eyes widened and raised his eyebrows slightly, "Wow I didn't take you for a professor." James shifted lightly in chair—Claude's attentiveness was stirring him.

 "So," James continued, "you don't seem like you're from here." 

Claude took another sip of his water and replied "Yeah, I am actually from Philly, but I attend law school here and take care of Miss Sharon for the time being." 

James was perplexed "Is something wrong with Miss Sharon?" 

Claude shook his head, "No, it's just my mom usually comes down to visit in the summer but she's unable to this year. She thought Miss Sharon would be lonely by herself." Claude suddenly shot up and grabbed the basket he had been holding prior to entering the home. "I'd almost forgot!" he exclaimed. Claude rose from his seat and handed over the basket. He pulled off the kitchen towel to reveal a small feast. James eyes lit up, once more thanking God for his good fortune that day. "Miss Sharon made some buttermilk chicken with okra and tomatoes. She thought you'd probably forgotten to buy groceries on the way here." 

"I had definitely forgot to buy food," James stated both thankful and embarrassed.

Claude chuckled, "You would've been out of luck. Everything closes here around five o'clock."

Mouthwatering, James stood from his seat and turned his back to Claude. "I'll get us some plates," James declared, feeling his body glow slightly warm. He walked over to the cabinets looking for some dinnerware. Claude stood up instinctively, used to having people ask him for help reaching to the top shelves. 

"It's alright, I got this. You still look quite outta breath." 

As he grabbed utensils, James felt Claude's gaze on him. His instincts were raised and very conscious of his own bodily movements. He had picked up on it during their brief conversation but in the silence, James could sense Claude's illegiable approach.

"I had completely forgotten the ghost town this turns to after five," remarked James and letting out a light but cautious laugh. He could still feel Claude's eyes on him as James turned back to his guest, two plates and set of cutleries in hand. Claude remained seated with sweat rolling down his face and an empty glass. James had forgotten to give him the pitcher of water. "Let me give you the pitcher."

Once more, Claude smiled widely. His face reverting to sweetly looking at James, no longer inciting the predatorily instincts from moments before but still remarkably odd. James placed a set of knives and plates for the two of them before filling Claude's glass. "I'll just have a glass of water and be on my way," said Claude. "Please don't trouble yourself. I ate before I got here." James felt reluctant for his visitor to leave and tried his best to hide his disappointment. "Miss Sharon is waiting for me and I don't want to worry her. You know how she gets." James nodded pouring some more water from the pitcher. 

"Don't I know it. She was the school librarian and my neighbor growing up," replied James. 

"Oh Lord, I cannot imagine the lectures you must've received," replied Claude taking a sip of water. 

"I used to hop over her fence and steal peaches from her. She ran me off with a cane once," reminiced James with a light laugh. Claude chuckled alongside him. His little laugh sounded delightful. 

"I knew her as a kid too. Once, I put a tub of cream cheese in her shoes and waited for her to slip them on. You would not believe the profanities that left her mouth!"

"Goodness, how'd you survive that one?"

"I didn't. Between her and my dad, I got the whopping of a lifetime,"

It was simple conversation but James felt himself lean closer with every word exchanged. Claude continued to sip more water and asked, "Are you close with Miss Sharon? I mean, other than her being your old librarian."

"Yes. She was friends with my parents and although I haven't visited in a longtime, I see her as my own mother. She's always quick to lecture me or nitpick any little thing but always cares for me."

"Ha-ha, I get it. Even now she lectures me, I'm already crouching thirty," stated Claude between sips but carefully noting to see if there was any response to his words. James retorted "She gave me a lecture today and I am now her priest." 

Claude stopped drinking momentarily, moving impulsively to a surprising statement.  With a stunned look, Claude set down his drink. "Priest?" questioned Claude, "I thought you were a professor?"

"Oh, we can be both. It's a common misconception that we only do church services," replied James, noting Claude's sudden change in demeanor. He was unsure of what he said to elicit this strange turn in conversation, but he unconsciously regretted telling Claude his  true occupation. 

"Huh, interesting," Claude stated nodding to himself and directing his gaze back to James. While before he had snuck little glances, this time around his eyes were piecing. He drank the last of his water, looking onto James with curiosity and some other undesclosed attention."I think I should be on my way. Like I said, Miss Sharon is waiting for me" He handed the now empty glass to James and began to stand up. 

James noticed a bit of hesitation in his stride. "You sure?" he asked curiously, "Even with the sun setting, it's still quite warm out." 

Claude went back to smiling and said "Oh no worries. I'm used to it by now." 

James also stood up. “That makes one of us,” he replied trying to keep the conversation going but Claude would not bite. He raised his brows in response and started to make his way down the hallway.

As the two fo them walked, James caught a scent of flagrant notes of citrus once more. It was pleasant and crisp and earthy. It was his first time smelling someone who wasn't overly perfumed. One thing he hated about being a priest were the omegas who reeked of sugary concoctions or strong floral notes. They often gave accompanied headaches and love confessions in tightened spaces. It had been a longtime since an omega scent was so resoundedly pleasant. Wait, James thought to himself stopping mid-step. How did he not notice? Omega! He’s an omega. 

Claude was already by the door and turning the knob. His scent had become increasingly noticeable now that James was aware. His heart began to palpitate at an increasing rate as if he were a teen again. He felt his cheeks begin to flush and palms sweat. His eyes couldn’t help but to focus upon Claude’s long slender neck as he walked onto the dark porch. He shouldn't continue to stare but James couldn't help it. Claude continued and said, "Please let us know if you need anything. I stay at Miss Sharon on Tuesdays." James nodded, quickly avoiding his sight and carefully trying to control his own pheromones. James tightly held onto the door's handle, ready for the alluring man to exit the home. 

James uttered "It was a pleasure meeting you," noticing now an odd crackle to his own voice. I hope he didn't notice that.  

Claude briefly arched his brow before saying "The pleasure was all mine, Father." James felt throat run dry and a twitch down below. Claude grinned even more as his eyes slowly looked up and down then back up. He waved goodbye before descending down the stairs and walking into the darkness. James quickly shut the door behind him and punched it.

FUCK FUCK FUCK

James looked down to his body and then closed his eyes. He felt ashamed. Apart from the partial swelling of his member, he realized that during his entire interaction he’d been half naked. No wonder the young man had been looking at him oddly. And it was Miss Sharon's nephew nonetheless!

 It had been years since he responded to an omega like this. He wasn't even in heat, James exclaimed pressing his hands to his head. How long had he been feeling this frustration? How long had he been displaying mild arousal? James opened his eyes once more and groaned. Unable to relieve himself, James heavily walked back to the kitchen. The corridor still lightly smelled of him. He collapsed onto the chair in the kitchen and began to devour the meal before him. Usually, even when by himself, James gave a small prayer before his meal. Recently, he'd been forgetting to give his meal prayers. A bad habit formed from lack of time between classes. Usually, he quickly noticed midbite and bowed his head in lieue prayer. Tonight, with the pheromones still encircling his nostrils, James not only forgot to give thanks but forgot to correct himself all together.