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    Summary

    Vash stands at the foot of the stairs. Above him, Father Nicholas’ gaze is dark, and he says Vash’s name once more: a summons from the pulpit, like the Lord commands him. So of course Vash comes.

    “Father,” he murmurs, tipping his face into the shadows as he climbs. The abat-voix hangs low, and he swears he can hear hushed laughter, the rustle of angelic wings upon that wooden canopy - but he only has eyes for his priest, a flower turning to its own tenebrous sun. “Father Nicholas…”

    Nicholas shudders, reaches for him with both hands and reels him in for a kiss, calloused palms cradling his jaw as Vash stumbles up the last few steps. “Why do you say it like that,” he gasps right into Vash’s mouth, sliding his hands back to stroke the nape of Vash’s neck, tangling his fingers in soft golden hair. “Spikey, why’d you have to say my name like that?”

    A priest and a parishioner in love, and two guardian angels trying to matchmake (though really they’re too busy making out to be all that much help).

    Series
    Language:
    English
    Words:
    18,286
    Chapters:
    7/7
    Comments:
    85
    Kudos:
    769
    Bookmarks:
    143
    Hits:
    15,746