Work Text:
Errol took pride that he wasn't a man that panics easily. A short temper? Sure, considering the class of poor souls that cohabited the kitchen with him, but panic? Fear was for the nonbelievers, the ones that had everything to lose if not released from the grease devil's hold.
So to be throwing the pews around and franctically searching each and every row, he must finally be feeling what it was to be completly lost.
If one were to enter the church, they could notice the book he always carried was neither in his hands nor neatly placed on the lectern. Clearly missing from its place either by its owners side or from its home.
Errol was cursing himself in his mind, how could he easily lose sight of something as holy as the convection scriptures? One night he was getting respite beneath the night light from the windows, just dozing off into the unconcious embrace, and when he woke up it was gone. Vanishing like a mirage of air. Had his lord reclaimed it again? Had Errol done something to offend them and so this was his punishment?
It must've taken him an hour to search each individual row of pews at least twice, yet the book was still missing, the man catching his breath while sitting on the altar's steps, his hair orange and glowing with fury as his face redenned. Shame, disgust, a burning hatred for his missteps, how could he call himself a Friar and fail in the most simple of duties? To lose a part of this church, of his soul in such a stupid way just for a moment of rest-
"Heya Friar homie" he groaned, raising his head from its hiding place between his hands to stare at the likley cause of his restless nights and deep slumbers.
The red hair of Hank was a curse and yet a vision he can't forget, the athletes expression one of friendliness and radiance against the church's cool light. Despite's Errol's efforts at the beginning of severance and all his lectures he found it puzzling how the other man didn't cower in fear at his words, just took them and… breathed them as if they were as easy as air. He felt jealous, to have met someone so easy to follow the words met him feel like a fraud, a rising and steaming ire that just brought him to the lows of those touched by the Grease Devil… and yet a truth and feeling he cannot ignore is that preachings have become ever so more enjoyable when he can spot the head in an encreasingly empty church, the sundays becoming just a place of conversation between the two.
He was slacking, and he could only blame himself, never Hank, not when he had been such a believer-
"I cannot aid you today" Errol's voice was sharp and cutting, rising from the steps witha swift and assured swoosh as he stared down at the other, both slihgtly taller from the alter and just by their heights, glancing up and down staring at his sports suit and hands behind his back "My soul needs rectifying for I have committed a crime and need to be… Repented-"
"Aw sorry bra"
Errol cleared his throat, glancing away as his face continued to burn "No need to apologize, it is not your fault but mine alone…"
"Is there a way I can help with… You know, the repention thingy?" Oh lord, why did he bless Hank with the saddest eyes and slight pout on his lips? It felt unfair to know he must deny this visage "I'm told I'm pretty good being a partner for things that need.. a lot of care"
"Silence! Not like that!" he snaps at the other, impossibly obvious how a little steam was rising from hs head "I- I need to be punished for misplacing the convection's scriptures, I can't find them anywhere and it's sacrilegious to even-"
"Oh right! That's what I was here about" he smacked his face with one of his hands, and from the other, Errol's eyes widened as the pristine black book was handed over to him, in such care that his hands trembled when they brushed against the other.
It looked… clean, not messy, as if it had been protected from the elements of the kitchen and the rest of the house, his throat tightens, glancing between the book and Hank before he speaks with a slight hesitancy.
"W-where… where did you find it?"
"We were doing a wicked vent exploration mission to test the air flows, y'know… Air quality and all that…" Hank looks to Errol, a bright smile, almost, proud of the fact he had gotten it back, and he couldn't help but agree "and Hector said he found it by the upstair's bathroom vent, apparently Jean Loo and Rebel thought it would be funny to play a prank when they found you sleeping"
Errol could not see where the fun was in that, now how they managed to take it from hs arms without him realizing, his frown was clear and eyes hardened, but it seemed the other didn't notice as he continued telling the tale.
"So they asked Hector to keep it hidden but uh, and I told him it would probably be a horrible idea considering how passionate you are about it, so he asked me to deliver it to you and here we are homie!"
Passionate? Were those the words he used? His confused and almost, mortified gaze must be obvious, and Hank's seemed to twinkle with somethng and steps a bit closer to him, a dangerous smirk across his face.
"Can't blame me for thinking you have passion, very steamy passion Friar…" he groaned, putting his hand between the two and hearing the other chuckle, his chest rumbling a bit under his palm "Sorry sorry, couldn't help myself, well see you later Friar-"
"W-wait" he croaks out, the other having to turn around from his way and look at him as Errol walked over.
He was hugging the book close to his chest, mind racing and face burning not with rage but shame once again, bending down and pressing a kiss to the other's freckled cheek, as soon as his lips pecked against it Errol quickly stood away as if the other burned. Gaze turned down but managing to catch the slight surprised blink and slightly agaped mouth of Hank, as if the other was still registering what he had done.
Oh how horrible, to let himself be guided with such… Lack of judgement, he huffed, turning on his heels and stepping once again on the steps "I must… pray now, please take leave dear one, we will see each other on sunday"
If Errol had cared to look, he could see Hank's blue eyes almost shinning and face quickly morphing from surprised to a bright, dumb smile, almost able to see the heart eyes from the other, cheeks still flushed and giving the leaving Friar a wink. A promising tone to his voice "See ya Friar"
He could feel his head still not cool down as he retrieved further into the church, the steam practically emanating from his ears as his brain was overheating and heart just continued to beat against the book. Lord, what was he thinking? He was not, already falling for someone like that as if it was nothing…