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"Mm! This is incredible! What flavor did you say it was?"
Charles wrapped an arm around Henry's shoulders as they walked down the street together, taking another lick of his ice cream cone with a low hum.
"Mint chocolate chip!" he announced, "With chunks of peanut butter and caramel drizzle! It's good, isn't it?"
"Yeah! It's amazing!"
As they finished up their ice creams, they walked hand-in-hand through the park, admiring the coastline along the way. At high tide, people would leave the beach in droves, but Henry liked being in the water, though at the moment they were just on the street nearby. They'd never been to this part of town before, and it showed in how Henry was practically rubbernecking to take it all in.
"Wow. It's so beautiful out here." Henry stopped on the sidewalk, giving Charles' hand a squeeze, "Thanks for taking me out today."
Charles gave his hand a squeeze back, "No problem! We should make it a proper beach date next time."
"Yeah! That'll be fun!"
Charles had started to notice that when Henry was particularly happy, he would hop in place or twirl or move his fingers like he was miming playing a piano. He didn't used to express his happiness so outwardly, but as he healed from his past trauma and learned it was okay to express happiness in unconventional ways, he could be totally mute and still be shuffling his feet or drawing circles in the air, totally oblivious to the other people around who could be looking in their direction, and Charles never pointed out when he did it because then he would stop out of self-consciousness and Charles just found it so precious. Sometimes they'd stim at the same time, and Henry would just laugh in the sweetest way, it absolutely melted Charles' heart.
It was then, as Charles was routing the path down to the beach, when footsteps made him look over his shoulder.
"Hello! Are you new in town?" the newcomer carried a bible under one arm, dressed in black from head to toe, "Come down to our church! We're always looking for new members!"
As soon as Henry's eyes landed on her, his face drained of all traces of his previous joy, replaced with unrelenting terror.
"Charles-!" he grabbed Charles' arm to tug on him, his feet braced against the ground, "Charles, we have to go. Let's go, okay?"
"Huh? Why?" Charles looked out towards the church, but nothing seemed amiss.
"Yes! What a nice young man you are!" another zealot, dressed in the same black uniform as the first, "We're open to visitors, too! No pressure, though! We're just trying to secure our place in heaven, and we hope you'll join us!"
"Charles Charles, please, we have to go, let's go, come on!"
Charles was wary now. He'd never heard of this church before, but if Henry was reacting this badly to it, he thought maybe it was because this was the cult that Henry grew up in.
He suddenly noticed the two members' plastic smiles. Okay, maybe it was time to go.
"Here, at least take a free pamphlet!" the first lifted a pamphlet made of cardstock, "We're with the local Fundamentalist Evangelical church! We hope to see you soon!"
Charles shook his head, "I'm sorry, but I'm not interested. We're leaving."
Unfortunately, before he could even turn around to follow Henry back down the street, the first met Henry's wild eyes, full of primal, paralyzing fear...and just like that, plastic smiles were dropped like lead.
She dropped the pamphlet, "Oh. I see how it is."
A wicked smile crossed her features as she pulled a knife from within her uniform.
"Oh no you don't!" the other shoved her, "This one is mine! I'm not passing up this opportunity!"
The second zealot grabbed Henry's wrist, yanking it and making him yelp. Charles immediately pounced, pulling out a gun and flashing his badge marking him as an army veteran.
"Let go of him, or I'll arrest you for-!"
In a flash, the gun was knocked aside and a searing pain hit the side of his head. Suddenly, he was on the ground, head buzzing.
"You think I'm afraid of you!? I'm getting my salvation one way or another!"
"Charles!" Henry swung at both zealots with incredible strength, adrenaline coursing through his trembling limbs, "CHARLES, HELP ME-!"
Charles kicked his foot out to trip the zealots. He was still dizzy, but this time, he was prepared. He leapt to his feet, swinging his fists out to block each blow. The first tried to stab him, but he caught her wrist and twisted the knife out of her hands.
"There's an apostate outside!?"
Charles turned to see droves of members, all dressed in black, pouring out of the church like flies, each of them fighting to get to Henry, who was continuously backing away, his usual courage no more than dust in the wind.
"GET OUTTA MY WAY!" "THAT ONE'S MINE!" "THAT'S MY APOSTATE!"
Charles finally got the first two off of them, sweeping Henry off his feet and running for both of their lives. Henry squeezed his shoulders a little too tightly, sobbing his lungs out into the collar of his jacket, shaking and trembling like a sputtering animal ready to die.
Finally, panting, Charles had run all the way back to an area downtown, close to where their home was that they were working to move out of. He found a secluded strip of sidewalk out in the open and knelt down by the curb, simply holding Henry close and letting him cry.
When his sobs had died down just a little, Charles unhooked the radio from his belt, "Rupert, I've got bad news. You know that church up by the beach?"
"Again? Lemme guess, they're givin' ya trouble? That church's been up my ass fer weeks!"
"They didn't just give us trouble. They tried to attack Henry."
"They did!? Fuck, are ya'guys okay!?"
"I think we're fine, but two of them need to be arrested for assault. Actually, probably the whole church does."
"Roger that! I'll call fer backup and meetcha there!"
"I don't think we're going back. Henry is really shaken."
"Alright, then I'll go wit' ma team! Give us a description and we'll get 'um behind bars in no time!"
Charles provided said description, all the while Henry was still wrapped firmly around him, showing no signs of letting go.
"Mhm. Thanks, Rupert." Charles hung up, "Okay...Henry? Are you okay? It's just me. It's just me, helicopter pilot Charles Calvin. I love you. Can you hear me?"
Henry's breaths were coming even now, but Charles could tell his head was full of static as he lifted his head, eyes slowly fluttering open. His face reflected brokenness, mouth drawn in a pained wince while both eyebrows hung low over his eyes, flooded with tears.
Charles held his head up when it flopped over, "Are you okay?"
Henry squeezed his eyes shut, "Do I look okay to you?"
Charles winced, "Oh shit, you're hurt!"
Henry had thrown up his hand to block one of the stabs, and now it was bleeding everywhere.
"No, don't..." Henry stifled the bleeding with his sleeve, "Just don't. Stop. I...I can't think right now or I'm going to explode..."
Charles took his face in both hands, "Henry, listen. It's going to be okay. It was scary, but we got outta there. Will you let me patch up your hand?"
"No!" Henry wriggled out of his grasp so he landed on his hip on the pavement, "D-don't let me think! I can't think! I can't! I need to stop!"
"Henry, you have to breathe. Just think about me. Think about your dancing and your friends, think about Ellie and Faith! Think about Rupert and Dave!"
Henry's eyes looked faraway. His pupils practically shone pure white in panic until he narrowed his eyes at Charles.
"Charles." he said in a scarily low, serious voice, "Do you believe in god?"
Charles' mouth drew into a thin line.
"Does..." Charles shrugged, slowly, "Does it matter?"
"Answer the question."
"Hey, listen, we're wound up right now, I'm taking you home. We'll talk about this later."
"I knew it!" Henry fought out of his grip, "You do! After all this time!? Why!?"
"Henry, you're clearly not ready to hear-!"
But it was too late. Henry was sprinting away.
"Henry!" Charles called out, "Henry, come back!"
He thought about running after him, but...should he just let him go?
Well, it was too late now. Henry was gone.
Charles stuffed both hands in his pockets. He always hated when he made Henry feel...unsafe. Unsafe and misunderstood, but he didn't want to lie either. He did believe in God, however loose that definition was, and he knew Henry would have seen through any lie he tried to tell anyway, even if it was the answer he wanted to hear so badly.
Dejected, Charles walked home alone, trying hard not to cry.
Charles opened the door with shaking hands, pressing his back to it as he shut it tight behind him.
His knees wobbled as he walked briskly to his room. What the fuck was up with him right now? Why did Henry say that to him? Whether he believed in God or not didn't matter! Those cultists were clearly just off their rockers!
Ah, whatever. Henry would come home in a few hours, and everything would be fine.
It would be fine, right?
Charles collapsed onto his back on the bed, glaring up at the canopy over the bed posts like it was personally responsible for his misery.
"Just don't. Stop. I...I can't think right now or I'm going to explode..."
"D-don't let me think! I can't think! I can't! I need to stop!"
"Urg!" Charles rolled over to rub his eyes.
Henry once believed in God.
"No! Stop that!" he said aloud to himself, "Pull yourself together, Charles! Henry's not some maniac!"
He may have been brainwashed at some point, abandoned his friends when he thought they might abandon him first, but Henry wouldn't kill like that. He wouldn't murder.
Charles remembered the prayers his family always offered to their christian god, asking him to bless the dinner table in the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit. God watched over his family, and though he'd become an inactive member, his firm belief in God had not once been shaken. Henry's old cult simply didn't believe in the one true God. It was as simple as that.
But how do you know?
It was a scary thought. Charles tried to dismiss it. Of course his god was the right one. It was easy to explain, because...
He drew a blank.
Why did he believe in God?
Over the course of his life, he'd been touched by tender mercies; Thoughts and feelings that weren't his own, blessings that he'd thanked the lord for...but, he had to concede to himself that just because he couldn't explain a thought, feeling, or good event, that didn't mean it came from God. After all, Whenever he had a bad thought or feeling, or something really bad happened to him, he always put those down to chance. He didn't consider those to be acts of God.
But what if they were?
Charles grabbed his own head to squeeze it between both hands, "Jesus...FUCK!"
He stood up to start pacing, but instead he knocked something to the ground; Something weighty. It created a nice thud! against the carpeted floor.
Charles picked it up. It was his old bible; The one inscribed with his chosen name from when he was a teenager.
Charles C. Calvin.
He turned to the first page. In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. He made the stars in one day, but then he took three days to make the earth. How could that be possible? Stars were so much bigger and more numerous than the earth, so why did the earth take three times as long as every single star in the sky combined?
Then came the story of Adam and Eve. God created Adam, and then took his rib to create Eve. Why could he create men from scratch, but he needed to take Adam's rib to create Eve? Was this intended to be metaphorical? That didn't seem right either. Adam and Eve didn't know good from evil until they ate the forbidden fruit, so why were they blamed for eating it? God created them to have the naïvete of children. It wasn't their fault the serpent took advantage of that. It was a contradictory command anyway. They were commanded to not eat the fruit, but they were also commanded to have children, and they could not do that until they ate the fruit. What were they supposed to do? Either way, they were disobeying.
Why did God punish having knowledge of good and evil?
Charles got a pit in his stomach at that thought. Why did he never notice how much knowledge was demonized here? The serpent had not even lied about the fruit. Adam and Eve were basically punished for understanding the concept of morality.
He needed to get to the bottom of this. He decided to read on.
Charles didn't even hear the front door open and close, so he startled as his gaze flicked up to meet Henry's as he suddenly appeared, heart pounding. His grip on the bible tore the pages as he squeezed it too tight.
Henry sighed as he let his hand fall from the doorframe, bound with bandages where he'd been injured, "I'm sorry for what I said, Charles. It was insensitive. Completely out of line. I don't have a problem with you believing in god."
Charles swallowed, lip quivering as he set the bible on his nightstand, face-up.
"Charles?" Henry took a step forward, "Are you okay?"
Charles fell back onto his bed, wincing at the stiffness in his back. He'd been so engrossed in his reading that coming back to the real world was jarring. He steadied himself on the bed, fists tight against the sheets.
"I..." Charles shook his head, "I don't know..."
Henry glanced at the bible, passively skimming the pages.
"The bible...?" Henry bit the inside of his cheek as he tried really hard not to pull a sour face, "Trying to strengthen your faith or something?"
"No!" Charles snatched up the book as he went to pacing, "I went to it for answers, but it's only raising more questions! Why is taking the Lord's name in vain such a terrible sin, but rape isn't even mentioned in the ten commandments!? Why did God kill everyone on earth with a global flood, but Noah needed to build an ark to escape!? Couldn't God have just snapped his fingers!? He parted the red sea for Moses, after all! Also, that implies that God made something so evil that he had to purge it! Isn't he perfect, though!? Why not just not do that!? And why the fuck is everyone divided into two strict groups where people who believe in God go to heaven, but genuinely good people who don't are destined for hell!? Also..."
He forced himself to stop. Why were the problems adding up so fast? How did all of this get printed so frequently for so long, and more importantly...why hadn't he noticed sooner?
Charles felt a chill rush through him like a cold shower.
He knew why.
Henry put a hand on his shoulder, "You're having a faith crisis. I had mine almost a decade ago. I know it's scary, but just remember that if god exists, he wouldn't have given you a brain if he didn't intend for you to use it. Take a deep breath, and let it out slowly, okay?"
Charles glanced at the bible again, curtly stepping back so Henry let go of him.
"I need answers." Charles turned the page, "My head is going in so many different directions. My family always told me that faith is good enough to justify what our finite human brains perceive as cruelty and contradictions. I need to finish this thing. I need to figure out what I'm missing."
Henry was about to say something, but instead he just shoved his hands in his pockets.
Charles looked up, a cold expression on his face, "Can you leave me alone for a few hours? I just need to figure this all out."
Henry nodded, "Yeah, sure. I'll come check up on you aaat...dinnertime?"
"Sounds good." Charles lay back on his pillow with the thick book, "See you then."
"Door open or closed?"
"How about leave it ajar?"
Henry left the door a crack open, and Charles listened to his socks padding on the carpet before returning to his reading.
Charles opened his eyes to the red sunset color against the ceiling, streaming in through the curtains of the window. He heard the faint sounds of Henry cooking downstairs as a heavenly smell wafted up to taunt him. His stomach growled, angrily reminding him of how he hadn't eaten since the incident, but he paid it no mind.
Nothing could justify what he had just been put through.
He heard too acutely when Henry pushed his door open, wandering back in to sit beside him. Charles sat up to swing his legs out over the edge, clasping his hands in his lap. He wrung them together before his strained, dry eyes blinked down at the carpet.
Henry put a hand on his shoulder, and that's what snapped him out of it.
"I don't believe in god anymore."
Henry's eyes widened.
"I mean, I don't think I do...?" Charles shuddered, "It feels so scary to admit it out loud. There's nothing there, right? So...why am I still scared of doubts...?"
Henry wrapped an arm around him, "Well, dinner's ready. Do you wanna talk about it, or...?"
Charles leaned into him, hugging himself, "I don't know."
"Well, come on. Unless you wanna just stay here?"
"No no, I'm coming." Charles shifted out of Henry's grip to stand, "Let's go."
After a quiet meal that Charles barely tasted, he was left staring into his empty plate for what felt like hours, elbows on the table with his hands laced in front of his mouth. He pressed his lips together, heart feeling hollow, like the inside of it had been drained away and scooped out.
Henry stood from the table, "Let's go lay down. It'll be more comfortable."
Charles slowly began to nod as he stood with him, "Right. Yeah."
The bedroom was dark now, aside from the streetlights and other city lights shining like a beacon as they radiated out from Manhattan. Luckily, the window wasn't directly facing the heart of New York City, but it irritated Charles to have to close the curtains and the canopy just so it was dark enough for him to sleep.
It was just another irritant, but on top of everything else, it felt especially painful now.
Charles shucked off his jacket and discarded it on the floor before lying beside Henry on the bed, and Henry took his hand to give it a gentle squeeze.
"It's okay, Charles." Henry looked up at the canopy, "I know how you feel. There's nothing wrong with you, okay? You're not crazy."
He turned to grab Henry in a hug, burying his face in Henry's soft chest, and he began to cry.
"Hey hey, it's okay, Charles." Henry hugged him back, "It's okay. I gotcha."
Charles grit his teeth as his chest heaved, hands grasping at the fabric of Henry's shirt between his fingers, "I'm s-sorry..."
"Don't apologize." Henry said, "It's alright."
He gently took Charles' headphones off to set them aside, tugging at his hair elastic until his ponytail came undone so he could run his fingers through his hair.
Henry shifted down a little to kiss Charles' hairline, "You don't have to talk about it."
"No, I want to. I think." Charles fell back against the pillow, "I don't really know how to feel. I'm angry, I'm sad, I'm confused...mostly angry, I think. I feel like I was lied to. Lied to by my family, by my priests and churches, lied to by everyone. I fucking feel like god lied to me, but I also don't believe he exists anymore! It's like a ghost, or an impression or something, I just...I want someone to blame!"
Charles' eyes went really wide and watery, blinking away as tears filled his eyes, spilled out, and then filled again.
"What would my dad have thought?"
Charles covered his mouth, horror overcoming his features.
"What will my mom think? My aunts, my cousins..." Charles grabbed the front of his shirt as his heart hurt enough to take his breath away, "My dad...he loved god. He was an honorable man, but he had some odd views. I was terrified when I found out I was a boy. I didn't know how he would take it. I would have rather lived as a girl than lose him as my father. Henry...he told me..."
Charles turned to bury his face in the pillow.
"...he told me that god loved me no matter what..."
Henry sucked in a breath between his teeth, "Ohhh..."
He ran his thumb back and forth over his lip as Charles went back to crying. Charles could see his worried shifty eyes, like he was trying to figure out how to respond.
Charles' father had become a touchy subject ever since the latest incident with the toppats.
Henry finally said, "How about I tell you my deconversion story?"
Charles rolled onto his back, scowling like he was upset it was too dark to see the ceiling through the canopy.
"Sure." Charles held up a finger, "But first, I need to know how crazy you were in that cult. You were never on the level of the weirdos who attacked us, right?"
Henry inhaled, face wincing, and Charles' stomach went sour.
"Uh..." Henry rubbed his ankles together, "No. I was kind of crazy."
Fuck.
"Charles, you have to remember that I'm a completely different person now than I was even when we first became allies." Henry crossed his arms, "You might remember that when I was nineteen, I swiped an engagement ring off of someone and went to jail for the first time. When I got out, nobody wanted to help me, and I was done getting screwed over, so I began to steal bigger and worse things, just sneakier. I felt as though the world owed me for taking everything away from me. I was bitter and slighted, and if someone else went hungry because I took their wallet, then so be it. I wasn't getting screwed over again."
"But that's so evil!" Charles rolled to face him, "Henry, that's not who you are! You're so sweet!"
"I know. I am now." Henry tried to offer a smile at the compliment, but it was quickly dropped, "You are the reason I dropped that mindset, Charles. Your genuine kindness was an eye-opener for me."
"No, Henry, listen to me." Charles took his shoulder, "I only brought something out of you that already existed. I could see it in your eyes the day we met; When you were cold and guarded. I sensed pain there. You were always kind on the inside, you just had to go against that to survive and protect yourself from more pain."
Henry's brow furrowed, "Gee Charles, I don't know..."
"You said it yourself, didn't you?" Charles laughed softly, "You said you thought the world owed you for how it had treated you. That's not cruelty, you just thought you were being fair."
Henry shrugged, "There are plenty of people who are good on the inside, even if it doesn't appear that way, but regardless, I did not act like a good person. I acted cruel and manipulative, I became a really good liar, and the richer you were, the more of a target you were to me. Not everyone had credit cards when I was nineteen, so rich people were like a goldmine, especially when I was starving."
"Wait, so...that doesn't tell me anything about the cult you were in."
"It doesn't? Let me add something then..." Henry leaned in a little, narrowing his eyes, "I was far less likely to steal from my fellow cult members."
After a moment of silence, Charles just replied, "Oh."
Henry nodded, "For the people in god's chosen few, if I committed crimes against them, I would be considered a traitor. God was always watching, after all. You had to be on your best behavior to get a place in heaven. That being said, non-members, especially if they refused to join when prompted, were fair game. I stole from them as I pleased, and I couldn't have cared less whether they lived or died."
Charles frowned as the sour feeling in his stomach got worse.
"Henry..." Charles lifted his chin to meet his eye, "Have you...?"
"No, I never murdered anyone."
"Oh, thank god."
"I would have told you sooner if I had killed someone." Henry batted Charles' hand away, "No, I reasoned to myself that I didn't want to kill anyone if I didn't have to. God would understand, wouldn't he? So, I tried to come up with other ways to get into heaven someday. I paid my tithe until I was too poor, I helped out my fellow cult members when they needed it, and I spread the word of the church as far as I could. Unfortunately, without condemning an apostate to hell, there's no way to know for sure if you've done enough until after you die, but I decided I didn't have the nerve to murder someone in cold blood."
That made Charles feel better at least, though not by much.
"But...I did still think that killing people for leaving the church was justified. I didn't mourn the deaths of anyone who was a victim of a murder like that."
"Wait, so..." Charles sat up, gesturing wildly, "If getting forsaken by everyone you knew didn't make you stop believing, then what did?"
Henry rubbed his arms, bringing his legs up and crossing them in front of him, "Misha."
Charles just stared.
"I was maybe twenty two or three when I was picked up by the mercenaries." Henry explained, "I joined them only because I had nowhere else to go, but I knew I didn't trust them, especially not after Mish said he was a friend of my dad's."
Henry lifted his arm to give Charles' t-shirt sleeve a tug, and Charles lay back down on his side, facing him.
Henry took his hand between both of his own, "I don't even remember what I said to him, but he was completely shocked over something I said that I thought was a normal comment to make for the situation, but they looked at me like my head had just exploded. Misha questioned me about it, challenging the beliefs I'd held my entire life. As it turned out, the reason my dad disappeared was because he had gone through a faith crisis too and had run away for his own safety. I still remember despising him for abandoning his family and his god, but when Misha brought it up with me, he asked me to consider what my words might sound like to a non-member."
He absently rubbed his thumb into Charles' palm, a kind of distant look on his face like he was half in a dream.
He brought Charles' hand to his mouth to place a kiss on his knuckles before lacing their fingers together to hold it to his chest, "Despite my instincts...I did. I thought about the other perspective, for the first time. I wondered, just briefly, if what I was saying would be acceptable in a world where god didn't exist..."
He shook his head, eyes fluttering closed with a sigh.
"That was the beginning of the end. As soon as I figured out how to practice basic empathy towards people in the outgroup, I began to notice flaws I hadn't noticed before. Contradictions that were once okay leapt out at me like a snake, and the more they piled on, the more I realized just how little everything made sense. Suddenly, after hours of deep rumination, it was like a baseball going through a window. I had to admit to myself that not only did I not believe in that religion anymore...I no longer believed in god at all. You should have seen me that night. I was a complete mess. Mish tried to comfort me. He tried to tell me that he was p-proud of me..."
He blinked, and Henry's big blue doll eyes that Charles loved so much had gone wide and watery.
"He said..." Henry's lip quivered, "...he said that...he was proud of me for trying to think for myself, even though it was painful..."
Charles' soul shattered into a million little pieces whenever he saw Henry's lip wobble like that. He reached out to trace that lip with his thumb, wiping one of his tears away before settling his palm against Henry's cheek.
"Is that why you told me to not let you think earlier?" Charles asked softly, "Because getting out of that cult mindset was so hard?"
Henry audibly swallowed, "Did I say that? Well, yeah, kinda. Mostly, I think I just reverted somehow. Apostates go directly to hell after they die, and when you're terrified beyond belief, especially since I haven't even thought about that cult in at least a month by now...I don't know. It all just came rushing back."
Charles sighed, "Henry, just what is an apostate? I've never heard that word before."
Henry closed his eyes to turn his head into the pillow, "An apostate is someone who was in the faith, but then later left. Not only is it worse than just being a non-member, it's considered the only thing that can send you to hell immediately and permanently after death. The only way to avoid this fate is to apologize and return to the faith before you die, and even then, leaving temporarily will still likely send you to hell for a long time before having even a chance of getting out."
Charles hooked his leg up and over both of Henry's, "That is so fucked up."
Henry huffed, "You're telling me. I'm sure now that it was just a scheme to keep people in the faith at all costs." he reached out to stroke Charles' head where he'd previously been hit, "You, um...didn't get terribly hurt by those people, did you?"
"No, I'm fine." Charles took that hand with a shake of his head, curls falling in front of his face at the action, "I'm just...I don't know. Everything hurts."
"On the inside?"
"Uh huh." Charles let go to wrap his arms around his middle, "I just feel so bad. I wasn't even actively religious, but I still feel like my whole world has been turned upside-down. Nothing feels right anymore. Everything's all in little pieces now, and I have to figure out how to pick them all up and put them back together one by one."
"Yep. That's how I felt too." Henry scooted a little closer, "I wish breaking free of indoctrination was easier. Is there anything I can do?"
Charles took Henry's arm to hold that hand and place a kiss on the back of it, snuggling into him so his own arm was pressed up against Henry's front. He could very faintly feel his heartbeat like that.
Their foreheads bumped together, "I don't know."
He didn't want to cry. He was in so much pain, and yet he was so numb at the same time.
Two thoughts kept popping into his head.
The first was related to just how abysmal god's morality was in the bible. He killed so many people just because he felt like it, or because of some minor insult, and he delighted in having a lot of virgin girls, which didn't make any sense for a supposedly all-knowing and all-powerful god. For god's sake, the story of Sodom and Gomorrah was about how sexual deviancy was so disgusting and deplorable that an entire city deserved to be destroyed over it, but in the very same story, the "righteous" godly man Lot offered up his young virgin daughters to the men of Sodom so they wouldn't commit an act of sodomy. Oh, and he impregnated those daughters himself because he no longer had a wife to procreate with.
According to god, raping young girls is perfectly fine, but men who have sex with each other is deserving of the death penalty.
God's "morality" was nothing more than a smoke screen for bigotry and violence, perfectly matching up with the moral understanding of the people who wrote the bible, not one of a perfect god.
The other thought was more haunting, paralyzing Charles like a gag in his throat;
What would Dad think of you now?
It wasn't the first time Charles had an identity shift. When he was 12, he came out to his parents as trans. He remembered how quiet they'd gotten. They weren't immediately disapproving, just utterly silent, and it scared him, but they came around before long. As it turned out, the silence was only due to shock and confusion, not disapproval.
However...it also wasn't really a challenge to their worldview. They knew that trans people existed, just not that you could know that you're trans as a child, and Charles wasn't even quite a teen yet at the time. They only needed to be told what was happening, and their confusion evaporated, making way for sympathy and understanding.
Charles' father had been a religious man. He studied the bible every day, he went to church at least every other Sunday and especially on Easter, and he was dutiful in his calling; Raising funds for the church and paying his monthly tithe, acts of charity, volunteering for church services, and so on. Even as late as the day the man died, he still told Charles, "I know in my heart that God loves you very much, son."
But there was no god; Just whispers of someone you always heard about, but never saw.
"I..." Charles suddenly got up from the bed, making Henry flinch, "I need to call my mom. I'll be right back."
Henry wasn't in the bedroom when Charles returned, but it didn't take long to locate him again. The sliding glass door to the balcony connected to the living room was ajar, letting in the cool summer night air, as well as a familiar smell that made Charles shake his head as he headed out.
Henry was holding a blunt between his fingers, taking a drag of it and then letting out a puff of smoke with a long exhale.
He jumped a little when Charles shut the door behind him, facing away as his face flushed a little bit.
"Sorry." he tapped an ash off the balcony, "I know you don't like it when I smoke."
"It's fine." Charles rested his elbows on the railing to look down at the street below, "You don't do it often, and at least it's not tobacco. What really bothers me is when you get too high, because then I have to delete a billion text links to the same video."
Henry chuckled, "Sorry."
"You're not sorry."
Henry shrugged as he took another drag, "Sooo...how'd the call with your mom go?"
"Oh, uh..." Charles rubbed his arms, "I...didn't end up calling her. I'm too scared to tell her that I...don't believe..."
"Charles, your mom is a goddamn angel. She'll understand."
"No, she won't." Charles' gaze snapped to him, "Do you even understand the gravity of this situation!? My mom still donates a ton of money to the church every Christmas! If she knew about this..."
Henry's head tilted, his gaze averted, "She'd be heartbroken..."
Charles nodded with a hum.
"So you're just not going to tell her?"
"I will." Charles waved his hands, "I will, just...not yet. It was hard enough to tell you, and you're on my side."
Henry put out his blunt in the ashtray before stepping forward to hold Charles to his body with one arm.
"You haven't switched sides, Charles." he said softly, "You've just changed your beliefs. The ones on the opposite side to us are the abusive ones. It took me too long to realize that."
Charles froze when Henry's head landed on his shoulder, and he cringed at the smell of weed.
Henry swayed a little bit on his feet, "L-love ya, Charles. Yunno that?"
Charles huffed as he reached over to give his torso a squeeze, "Love you too, crazy goofball."
Charles nuzzled into Henry's hair, thin and fluffy like a down pillow. Henry shook with giggles, and Charles laughed as he kissed his temple.
Henry lifted his head, "Whatever happened to the cult members who attacked us?"
Charles shrugged, "Rupert never followed up, so I assume they've been caught. I'll launch an official investigation soon, so we can go to the beach without getting harassed by them."
Henry's eyes widened, "But not today?"
"Not today." Charles pet Henry's hair, "Relax. You're safe now."
Henry let his head rest on him again, "Mm."
Henry's eyelashes were just visible in Charles' peripheral vision. They were thick and dark, making his hazy eyes look even more sparkly by comparison. It absolutely melted Charles' heart, and overtime, he'd found himself sneaking kisses onto Henry's eyelids more often than he'd care to admit.
"Hey. I mean it, okay?" Henry said, shifting slightly with a sigh, "Nobody who wasn't your enemy yesterday is your enemy today. Your family will still love you, and your friends still love you no matter what. If anyone forsakes you for this, they weren't worth having anyway. You deserve better than that."
"Thanks, Henry. I know." Charles laced his fingers in Henry's, holding them against the material of his jeans, "Hey, you wanna go inside? My heart hurts, and I want to lay down."
"Oh, yeah, of course." Henry steered him towards the door, still hand-in-hand, "Let's go."
Charles' legs felt heavy as they came back inside. When he lingered in the kitchen, Henry gave his arm a gentle tug.
"Come on. I already washed the dishes."
So Charles followed Henry to the bedroom, where he guided him to lay down.
"Wait here."
Charles repeatedly hit his heel against the bed frame until Henry returned. Henry stood in the doorway, foot tapping as Charles' leg went bonk bonk bonk against the side of the mattress until Henry finally shook his head and scooped him up to wrap him in the blankets, warm from the laundry.
"Wha-! Hey!" Charles weakly struggled, "Henry, what are you doing?"
"Shush. Hold still."
Charles couldn't see him clearly from this angle, so he was pretty surprised when he felt four limbs wrap around him from behind, followed by a warm body being pressed into his back. He was now wrapped up in the warm blankets with Henry, who proceeded to press both hands into his chest as their legs tangled together.
Charles let out a shocked little gasp, and Henry smirked against his head.
"Uhh, Henry...?"
Henry shifted to kiss his neck, "Hey, it's alright. Did I startle you? Should I let go?"
Charles was shock still for a moment before letting the air out of his lungs in a long whoosh, "I think I'm okay."
"You sure? Your heart's pounding."
"I know. It's okay." Charles put his hands over Henry's, feeling the way his heart beat against them, "It's fine. I like the distraction."
"You like the distraction, huh?"
Henry left a trail of butterfly kisses across Charles' cheek, raising goosebumps all over his skin.
"I'm really good at that."
Charles' whole frame jerked, and he held Henry's hands tighter over his chest. He took a deep breath, letting it out with a few quiet giggles as he kicked his feet out.
"Ahh, Henry! That tickles!"
"Does it?" Henry purred in his ear, "I wonder..."
Charles felt a tingling in his fingertips and toes as Henry nuzzled into his ear. He could tell what Henry was scheming. He could always tell when Henry was scheming, but even though he thought he was prepared, he still felt his whole body tense up as Henry let his eyelashes flutter against his sensitive ear.
Henry let his grip slacken when Charles didn't relax, "Too much?"
"Huh? Oh, sorry, no." Charles turned his head into the pillow, "I'm fine. Really. I just..."
He remembered the god problem.
His stomach went sour again.
"Hey. Hush." Henry nuzzled into the back of his head, "You don't have to deal with everything right now. You're gonna have to deal with this eventually, but not right now. Let me distract you, love."
Charles shivered as Henry placed more butterfly kisses across his neck and around his ear, and for a moment, the fears were quieted.
"I'll have to tell my mom..."
"Don't think about it now."
"What would my dad say?"
"Don't think about it."
"I hate god. I don't know how that's possible, but I do."
"There will be time to think about it later." Henry gave him a squeeze, "There will be time to think about everything later. Just think about me right now. You've already been thinking too much all day. You'll figure this out."
"I can't."
"You can."
Charles grabbed the pillow to bury his face in it.
"My dad distracted himself too..."
"Your dad hid his grief for over thirty fucking years." Henry pinched Charles' ear, "He never planned on facing it. You will. Maybe in a few hours, or a few days...there's no shame in taking time to just breathe."
Charles swallowed, shivering as Henry moved his hand to caress down his cheek to his neck.
"Hush." Henry rolled over him halfway to crush him into the mattress, "It's okay. This will have its place."
And maybe it would. Maybe everything would be fine again, one day; Once Charles had a chance to rebuild his worldview from the ground up.
But...not right now.
Right now, he allowed his mind to melt into the comfort of Henry.