What am I doing? James was entirely unsure why he had so quickly agreed to continue, ignoring all the reasons he had formulated in his brain why carrying on was a totally bad idea. What would the congregants say when he showed up in the morning, reeking of alcohol and bloodshot from lack of sleep? And I'm getting drunk with an omega! It would be endless rumors if they got caught. All these alarms rung in his brain but James’s hands were busy collecting their already opened bottle and grabbing two additional glasses. 

The sitting room was quite dark  at night, with only some scattered lamps as illumination. When James had come into the room, Claude was rummaging through the small collection of vinyl next to the wood stereogram. “I wouldn’t bother if I were you,” stated James setting down their glasses and pouring more drinks. He grabbed their glasses and handed one back to Claude.

 “Yeah, a lot of oldies. Not particularly a big fan of new music?”

“It's all Father Michael's records. I keep mine in the study.”

“Oh, there's an upstairs?” 

“Yes and it is as equally boring… Well, I think this thing has radio so tell me a station and I’ll try my best.”

James set his glass on the floor and lifted the lid of the wooden cabinet. He switched on the system and a faint sound of static suddenly came out from the speakers. Claude moved next to James, and he continued fiddling with the radio. James could feel the sleeve of his shirt brush against Claude’s arm. Even at this phantom touch, James’s skin grew warm.

“I don’t think my stations can be received this far out of town so leave on whatever isn't a sermon.” 

The only station playing music was an old country radio program that played recorded live shows. While perfectly pleasant, the applause between breaks in songs was a bit odd. The two men sat across each other, Claude taking the couch and James the armchair. The alcohol had finally made its way through both their bodies with Claude appearing more relaxed, his body sunk into the sofa and his arm stretched across the backrest. His undone top buttons were a sight of sensuous invitation underneath this kind of pale light. The delicate chain around his neck rested on his clavicle, sparkling with the movement of his breathing. James took another sip if wine.

"Do you mind if I ask you more invasive questions?" asked Claude sipping on his wine. James answered with a polite, "Fire away.." 

"Why do you teach rather than conduct mass? Isn't it a bit strange?" 

"There are many different vocations within the Church. I chose mine to be of an educator... I also see you learned the word mass." 

Claude moved his arms and changed his position to directly face James. "I did some research. Okay, so, you decided to become a professor but then why Providence? It seems like a big move from Georgia to Rhode Island." 

"I went to universities in the Northeast and my dad had moved up to Massachusetts once I graduated high school. I decided to try and stay up there." James took another sip of wine, "What about you? Why didn't you go to California or a more liberal place for law school?" 

Claude smirked slightly and mirrored James's drink. "I got a scholarship to attend. Plus, I have Miss Sharon here to worry about as well." 

"Why is that?" 

"She's all alone down here and refuses to leave. She's family to us. She often took care of me so now it's her turn to be looked after." James smiled, he felt at ease knowing Miss Sharon despite being unwed still had a family.

"You mentioned your dad lives up North, did your mom follow him up there?" Claude asked, recalling James's evasion of his questions earlier that day. 

"Not exactly," stated James. "She sorta left first and then passed away a couple of years later. Dad followed her grave up there." 

"I'm sorry for your loss." 

"Thank you but don't worry about that. It was a while back." James's expression remained still but his gaze gave away his sadness. "I'm not angry about you asking, it is just a bit uncomfortable to talk about." 

"Does it still hurt?" 

James drank again. "No, I made peace with it but it’s still something I’d rather keep it to myself." 

A silence befell between them. There was a pause and then sound of applause once more. The singer said something muffled but then began to play ballad wistfully. “I loved this song growing up,” stated James, breaking the silence and changing the subject. 

“What a little country boy you were.”

“Ha-ha, I always loved cowboy ballads. They always told these vivid stories and sad tales. I would put the records on and dance around in my room.”

“Well, come on! Let’s see the moves.”

“Absolutely not.” 

Claude set his glass down on the coffee table between them and stood up. “Come on, get up!” James shook his head violently as Claude inched closer and closer. He grabbed James’s forearms and tried to pull James up. “Let me set the glass down, Claude!”

“Get up! Show me your moves.” 

James could feel his face grow pink and try its best to hide the small smile growing from the corners of lips. He sat the glass down and gave in. Claude let go and stepped back, grabbing his glass. He took another sip and smirked like the sly fox he was. James tried his best to do a dance, but the alcohol affected his feet. Claude erupted into laughter, “That was… good?”

“I am aware it’s not good.”

“No! Don’t stop k-keep going!” encouraged Claude, holding back tears of laughter. 

“I’m also supposed to be dancing with a partner, so it looks silly.”

Claude let out the last of his laughter then set down the glass down. He held out his hand to James and said. “Then show me the moves, Father.” 

James clasped his hand against Claude’s then placed the other around his midback. Their bodies were close but not pressed. There was space between them, making James even more nervous. Their heigh difference made it so he had to look up to Claude’s face and for Claude to look down onto his. Glancing back down, all James could see was his slightly exposed chest and that damn necklace.

“Is it alright to be the woman in this dance?”

“Is it okay that I am not a woman, father?”

“Ah, uh—well, uh,” James stuttered which only cause Claude to chuckle. 

“I’m only teasing. Now, show me the steps.” 

After some time, the two finally got into the groove and continued dancing. James remained rosy-cheeked looked back to Claude. His cheeks too were speckled pink. 

"May I say something? As an Alpha, why did you decide to become a priest?" 

James chuckled bitterly; the question had finally come. "It was just my calling. I felt that it was the right choice for me."

Claude leaned down, sniffed and then rolled his eyes "I can tell you're lying. I can smell it. Alphas release a bit of their scent when they lie. How about this question then. Have you ever been in love?" 

James shook his head. 

With a deep whisper, Claude teased, “For a man of God, you sure lie a lot." Perhaps it was the alcohol, but his pheromones must be going wild. He hadn't been caught exposing his scent in a very long time.

"It's not that I want to lie. You're just asking a very personal question." 

"How else am I to get to know you?" 

"Why do you want to get to know me?" 

"Curiosity— never met an alpha who suppressed himself like you. It's interesting." 

"It's part of my vocation. I'm meant to keep it in check. Repression and servitude for God is what we are supposed to do." 

Applause broke out and the  tune changed. The two continued to slowly move to its beat, subconsciously inching closer and closer. James could feel his breath getting heavier and could pick up Claude’s scent. He was sure Claude could sense his as well.

"So, you've never had urges? Ever?" 

"I have. That's natural—I still have cycles." 

"I meant from people. Like when you see a pretty woman walking by." 

"Hmm," said James "not really no." 

"To which part?"

"What do you mean?'

"The urges or the woman?"

James’s gaze  darted to Claude’s who kept stare directly towards James. He couldn’t help but tighten his grip on their hands. The topic of conversation was clouding his better judgment, and the alcohol was only expediting his reactions. 

"Well? Which one Father?"