Chapter Text
You'd never seen the man before, though to be fair, you only went to church when you'd come home to visit and your mom would drag you to sunday mass. He was tall and thin with square-rimmed glasses and black hair that stuck up everywhere, your seat up front allowing you to see some gray peeking at his temples. He smiles as he speaks and cracks little jokes here and there, his eyes crinkling a little at the edges. He's handsome and older, but not as old as the other priests at the church. You look around and spot the disapproving looks of the older ladies and conservative men, while the younger crowd chuckles with the Father's speech.
When mass is over a smaller crowd gathers outside, voicing their opinions on the new priest. "He's he's one of those L-A folks," a woman says in disapproval and you chuckle at that, Los Angeles only being 3 hours away by plane.
"I think he might even be divorced." Another woman says in a snobby voice and you roll your eyes at that. Eventually the other priests come out to greet everyone and talk, but you can see that the other Father is walking the opposite side towards his home.
"Is Father Knoxville not joining us?" Your mom asks and Father McDonald shakes his head and smiles.
"No, he wants to rest up, this was his last mass for the day but he has to come back for confessions," he explains and you perk up at that, remembering that yesterday you had promised your mom you'd go to confessions with her. Eventually everyone begins to leave and you go back home with your mom, coming back to the church in the evening after dinner.
You luckily bring your own car to the church, not wanting to be stuck waitingn for your mom again. She goes in first taking her sweet time before walking back out and getting into her car, waving goodbye from inside of it as she drives off. You decide that since she's gone you don't have to go inside, but you find yourself going into the church again anyways, curiosity getting the best of you.
You feel nervous walking up to the booths and seeing two dim lights turned on inside of them, one next to the other. You take a deep breath and say 'fuck it' (sorry god), before going into the one with the open door, closing it behind you.
"Uh," you begin, wanting to face palm from how awkward you sound and feel. "I don't remember how to start this" You admit and for a second there's silence.
"That's alright." You hear a soft voice say back and you get shivers, feeling embarrassed for realizing what's going on inside your mind. "You start with, 'forgive me Father, for I have sinned.'"
You squeeze your eyes shut, cursing yourself at how you didn't remember the most famous line of a confession. You take a breath, already blushing before speaking again. "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned." You echo back.
"May the Lord be in your heart and help you confess your sins with true sorrow." He recites and you look up at the little light above your head, focusing on the quiet buzzing sound.
"I guess the only sins I have are that I like to drink, I smoke too much pot and I don't really like going to church." You admit. It's quiet again and for a moment you fear that you might've said something wrong, but then remind yourself that he's probably heard worse.
"I didn't like going to chuch either when I was younger." He says back and you're surprised, knowin for sure that this is not how confessions usually go.
"What changed?" You ask curiously and you can hear the smile in his voice
"I needed something to ground me, I was a bit rambunctious. " He says softly and you smile at that as well.
"Have you been doing this for a while?" You ask, wanting to know more about him
"About 10 years. I used to be in a little church in Los Angeles, but my superiors thought I'd do better somewhere else, so they sent me here. I've only been here for two weeks," he explains and you hold back a chuckle when you remember what the women were talking about earlier. He surprises you again when he asks you a question in return. "You came with Mrs Hall earlier didn't you?" He asks and you nod even though he can't see you.
"Yeah, she's my mom" you explain.
"She's a very nice woman by the way" he adds and this time you do chuckle
"She's nice enough" you say back earning a small laugh from the man.
"She comes around often" he tells you softly.
"She loves going to church." You tell him and he's quiet once more.
"Do you.... come around often?" He asks and you sit up with his question.
"Occasionally.." you explain. "I live out of state so I only come sometimes when I come visit."
"Sorry, that was probably inappropriate," he apologizes and you smile.
"That's alright.." you begin, feeling a bit bold "I guess we're both just curious." You add and he pauses.
"What else are you curious about?" He asks, and his voice feels closer than before, making something in you stomach, turn.
"Catholic priests can't be married can they?" You ask and you feel stupid even just asking asking that.
He laughs quietly and your face burns red. "No, no marriage or girlfriends or fun," he jokes. "I wish!" He exclaims before quieting down again. "Uh, sorry, 10 years doing this and I still forget I'm not allowed to joke around like that anymore." He says softly.
"You're very different from other priests aren't you," you chuckle and he chuckles as well.
"I'm very 'modern', yes." He giggles and you know you're going right to hell for finding it cute.
"Do priests drink?" You ask before clarifying, "aside from mass wine of course."
"Sure we do," and you can hear the smile in his voice again. "D'you know any good bars? I'm still working my way around here." He says sheepishly.
"Tipsy's is the only place I go to, it's far enough away that I won't see any people that recognize me, but close enough that it's not a pain to drive to," you smile. The two of you talk until it's dark out before you get up. "I guess I should go, I don't wanna keep you here longer than you have to be." You say softly before reaching for the door of the stand.
"Wait, before you go," he stops you. "Two hail marys and an our father," before adding, "for your sins." You chuckle and open the door of the stand, shaking your head as you walk out. The conversation leaves you with more questions than answers and you stomach flutters at the thought of coming back next sunday. You get in your car and as you begin to drive away you see the man again, walking back towards his home.