Work Text:
Kim’s family had never been religious in the true sense. They were technically catholic, went to church despite the anxiety always radiating off her mother of not belonging. It was more an excuse to wallow in shame than giving any sort of comfort.
So when Jimmy, slightly drunk and high off causing legal chaos in court again, suggested he be a priest and she be God and he worship her like she deserved, she burst into laughter and was immediately game.
This is what they did. Turn shame into something to be mocked. Something for pleasure that was only ever shared by them. Maybe short-term happiness before falling in again, but they’d both learned to take whatever they could.
While he rummaged through the kitchen for some spare cardboard (she should get him a collar at some point, wouldn’t be any more flamboyant than the bright coloured suits that she knew were partly for her benefit), she went into the bedroom to find something better to wear. Kim couldn’t say off-hand what her version of God looked like, but they probably weren’t blonde in comfy sweats.
Peeking through Jimmy’s mass of suits, she grabbed a white robe from the back. Still snuggly, but closer to the usual picture.
She was settling in bed when Jimmy entered in the doorway, a strip of a cardboard box hanging precariously with tape around his neck. It was silly, but it reminded her of that paperclip he had attached to his thrift shop gucci loafer. Maybe he did bounce off in bad directions, but he was always trying and she loved him for that.
For his part, he really was looking at her like she was a goddess who he couldn’t believe was attached to him. She couldn’t really see it, if she was being perfectly honest, but she also loved that he loved her that much.
As he crawled onto the bed, a fleeting look of panic went across his face. “My brain’s gone dead.” At her worried frown, he explained slightly sheepishly. “Nothing’s wrong, I just can’t think of anything beyond Song Of Solomon.”
She did her best to sound sage and full of wisdom. “I believe in you.”
His expression both lit up and softened. It made Kim’s skin prickle, knowing he was about to be sentimental. She never knew what to do with that. But this was a roleplay, so they had that distance. That didn’t always work, she still felt guilt for that one time she agreed to call him a pathetic excuse for a lawyer, and he’d avoided her for a day after a frankly sad attempt at giving her punishment, but a lot of the time it helped.
He was still on his knees, his eyes fixed on her, but his hand brushed over her ankle. She knew where this was going and stretched out. “I’m so lucky to…” He still wasn’t totally confident in this, his speech still a little stilted. “Thank you. For being here.”
Praise made her feel itchy, but she waved a hand like she was a queen and he was a very loved jester she had in her lap. “You’re my number one boy. Of course I’m going to be here.”
Everything seemed to click for him then, and with a confident smile, bent down to kiss her ankle. She bit down a laugh, he wasn’t going to get to her just yet, and definitely not by tickling her with his stubble.
“Can’t you just start at the good place?” she whined, feeling safe enough to. Jimmy wasn’t the only brat in this pairing. Admittedly she was less loud than he was.
He raised his head a little. “Well if I start there,” flicking playful eyes to her crotch. “Then I can’t work my way up can I? It’d be missing the point of worship .”
Kim wasn’t into feet, and she didn’t think Jimmy was either, it was just the submission aspect for both of them; she had a few fantasies of him kneeling in the hallways of HHM, his legs spread, and her digging the sole of her high heel into his crotch until he couldn’t hide in a whine anymore.
But he certainly seemed to love suckling and nipping at the back of her ankle, his eyes on her, watching her face. Her mom always called him a lapdog (with the addition that he would get bored and leave soon), like that was a bad thing.
He moved his way up, nuzzling at her calf. “Fave saint?”
“Breaking the immersion here.”
Even from his position at still basically her feet, he had the gall to look offended. “Even God has favorites, right? Loved them enough to save them in the end?”
She had to actually think back to her Catholic school days, which was hard enough to do without Jimmy trailing kisses on both her knees. She really wanted Sister Jean to like her, feelings she didn’t want to consider even as an adult. “Elizabeth of Hungary.”
The kisses stopped, the worst thing to ever happen to her… this week, and Jimmy looked at her with interest. “Why?”
Flexing her hand, it was going numb again, she looked anywhere but him. “She helped homeless people, I thought she was cool.” Figures the only times her mom would cry apologies was when they had to keep leaving to escape rent, the only thing that wasn’t her fault.
Contrary to what anyone else thought, Jimmy did know when to shut up, as he nodded thoughtfully and tickled her thighs with his tongue, tracing little circles.
But if she had to share subtext about her past, then so did he. “Remember equivalent exchange? You have to tell me yours.”
“I’m just a lowly priest.”
She kicked him lightly, partly for his passive aggressive reference to her calling him always down. It’s not like she wasn’t wrong there. “Jimmy.”
He propped himself up on his elbows, head close to her crotch. Because obviously. “St Dymphna. When I was, uh.” He made an exploding hand motion next to his skull, she didn’t press. “That was the school’s version of counselling before I got kicked out.” There was a slight uneasy pause before he fidgeted. “Can I get back in character now?”
She let any kind of identity commentary slide, she was tired and didn’t want to think about it. “Continue the minioning.”
But he was feeling mean, bypassing what she wanted and leaving little bites on her tummy. “You missed a spot.”
She couldn’t see his face, but she knew he was smirking. “All in good time.”
She leaned her head back against the pillow and aimed at her complaint at the ceiling. “If you don’t get a move on, I’m never calling you a good boy again.” Or a good girl, but they were batting with enough kinks already.
“I’m this close to god,” he said, and she just realised she hadn’t seen him laugh like that in a while. “I’m automatically good.”
She ran her fingers through his hair, not too rough, still pushing him down between her legs. “You’re not subtle.”
Jimmy hummed against her clit, sending a shudder through her. For some reason she was thinking of bread, bread that became flesh, though thinking herself Jesus would probably make her dad roll in his grave.
She did wonder how he would taste. Not in the sense of sucking his dick, she knew that, but if she could sink her teeth into the soft skin just below his ribs. What sounds would he make? This was all fun and good, but there was always a little grit under the surface, he was becoming someone else with the way he moved while he was working, and she was turning into… something. She didn’t know. Some combination of people she didn’t want to be.
But Jimmy circled his tongue around her nub, his face pressing into her like he was desperate to inhale everything that made her who she was, and her fingers scritched at his scalp. “I own you don’t I?”
He grinned against her, and she could feel his teeth. Not too hard, but a little pain that she needed. Her mother once told her she was so deathly serious and craving punishment, she would probably end up hot for mortification of the flesh. In a sense, mommy dearest had no idea what she was talking about, Kim and mom’s favourite cousin Peggy had just won three hundred hustling pool the previous night. But she always liked Jimmy leaving hickeys on the insides of her thighs. Helped that he enjoyed it too.
She had her multitudes, he had his.
But back in the dynamic neither of them ever got tired of, she finally bucked into his mouth, still being so good and not tugging his hair, and Jimmy eagerly licked her clean.
She gave him a slight slap upside the head. “C’mon, I’m good. Come up here.”
His chin wet and shiny, but looking deeply satisfied, Jimmy unhooked the white cardboard around his neck and lay down beside her. “More or less hell-sending than Viktor and Giselle?”
She giggled, kissing him and tasting herself. “I think about the same.”