#jyokeng

Chapter I: The Days We Borrowed

Flashback — Return to the Days of Youth.

The schoolyard carried the scent of cut grass and old wood from the classroom windows. Jo had walked through these gates countless times, but it was on the third Monday of the term that Yudai caught his wrist for the first time.

“Hey, you walk too fast,” Yudai said, tugging Jo back with a grin. The boy’s hair caught the morning sun, and his shirt was already untucked though the bell hadn’t even rung yet. “Slow down, Jo. No one’s chasing you.”

Jo didn’t know how to answer except with the small, awkward smile he always wore. He wasn’t used to people catching him mid-stride. He was used to moving alone—head down, books hugged against his chest, always on time, never late. But Yudai had a way of changing the air around him. He slowed it down, made everything feel like it could wait.

That day was the first of many where Yudai decided that Jo would no longer walk alone.

By the second week, Yudai had taught Jo how to eat spicy noodles without flinching, how to play cards in the back of the classroom when the teacher was late, and how to climb the side fence to sneak out during lunch. Jo wasn’t sure whether it was friendship or mischief, but Yudai’s laughter made everything feel less dangerous.

“You’re too serious,” Yudai would say, poking Jo’s temple with a pencil. “Like your brain doesn’t know how to relax.”

Jo wanted to tell him that there were reasons. That in a year, he wouldn’t be here. That he was bound for the seminary, that his parents had already decided, and he had agreed because he thought it was the right thing to do. But every time Yudai looked at him with that mischievous brightness, Jo swallowed the words back. He was learning how to borrow days without thinking of the debt.

One afternoon, Yudai dragged Jo to the old gym storage room, the one no teacher really checked. Dust clung to the nets and unused balls, and the single window spilled golden light across the floor.

“Why are we here?” Jo whispered, as if the walls themselves would scold him.

“Because it’s boring out there.” Yudai plopped down on a folded mat and patted the space next to him. “Sit. You think too much when you stand.”

Jo obeyed, hugging his knees. Yudai leaned back, hands behind his head, eyes half-closed. They sat in silence until Yudai cracked one eye open.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?”

Jo’s heart nearly stopped. “What?”

Yudai grinned. “Kiss. You know. Lips, not cheeks. Or are you too holy for that?”

Jo stammered. “I—I haven’t.”

“Want to learn?” Yudai said it like he was offering to teach him a new card trick. Casual, reckless.

Jo should have said no. He should have remembered the path already chosen for him. But instead, he nodded, just barely.

Yudai shifted closer, so close Jo could see the faint scar on his chin from some long-forgotten accident. His breath smelled faintly of soda. Then, without hesitation, Yudai pressed their lips together.

It was brief, almost clumsy, but Jo felt it down to his fingertips. Yudai pulled back, laughing softly.

“See? Not so scary.”

Jo didn’t answer. He was too busy trying to calm the storm inside his chest.

Days became weeks. Yudai found excuses to pull Jo into hidden corners, to share secrets, to laugh about things no one else would understand. They played basketball until the court lights flickered out, shared water bottles, scribbled notes in each other’s textbooks. Yudai taught Jo how to whistle through his fingers, how to cheat just enough on a test to pass, how to climb the tree behind the science building without getting caught.

“You need to live a little,” Yudai said one evening as they sat on the rooftop, the city stretching faintly beyond the horizon. “Books won’t remember you. People will.”

Jo wanted to tell him that people forget too. That vows and faith were heavier than laughter. But Yudai nudged his shoulder, and the words stayed locked inside.

Instead, Jo memorized the way Yudai’s voice sounded when he talked about the future—reckless, limitless, untethered. He stored those sounds like prayers he wasn’t supposed to say.

Winter crept in with sharp winds, and the school festival approached. Yudai insisted they sneak out after dark to hang lanterns early.

“No one will notice if two disappear,” he whispered, dragging Jo by the wrist again. His hand was warm despite the chill.

They hung lanterns along the courtyard, their breath fogging in the night air. At some point, Yudai climbed halfway up a tree and stretched to hang one higher. Jo reached up to steady him, hands brushing against Yudai’s calf.

“Careful,” Jo murmured.

Yudai glanced down, smirking. “You’ll catch me if I fall, right?”

Jo’s throat tightened. “Always.”

The word slipped out before he could stop it.

The night of the festival, Yudai shoved a candied apple into Jo’s hand.

“Sweet for the sweet,” he teased.

Jo smiled despite himself, but guilt clawed at his chest. Yudai didn’t know. He didn’t know that every borrowed day was temporary, that Jo was already half-gone in a future Yudai couldn’t touch.

As fireworks cracked above them, Jo tilted his head back to watch the bursts of color. Yudai leaned against him, shoulder to shoulder, easy and unthinking. Jo closed his eyes for a moment, pretending this was forever.

The weeks blurred together after that. Tests, laughter, stolen kisses in empty classrooms. Yudai’s voice teaching him to shout at soccer games, to skip stones across the river, to laugh even when the world pressed heavy on his shoulders.

But always, in the back of Jo’s mind, the truth remained: he was not meant to stay. He was meant to leave, to wear a different kind of uniform, to devote himself elsewhere. The seminary wasn’t just a choice—it was the path carved for him.

And so, when Yudai asked one night, “You’ll be here with me next year, right?” Jo froze.

The answer caught in his throat, heavy as stone. He forced a smile, forced his voice steady. “Of course.”

—

One day, during the annual school sports competition, the sun hung low over the track, casting long shadows across the field. Students from different classes cheered loudly, waving banners and shouting encouragements that mingled into a roaring symphony.

Jo had just crossed the finish line as the last runner of his team, baton clutched tight, chest heaving with exertion. The relay was won, and the crowd erupted in cheers, but Jo barely registered it. His eyes immediately searched the sidelines, and there was Yudai, poised, alert, and smiling with that familiar mix of excitement and quiet authority.

Before the race, as Jo had rounded the slippery curve, Yudai had given him the subtle gesture: a hand raised, a slight nod, a silent signal to slow down. Instead of saying ‘you can do it’, Yudai had mouthed ‘stay calm’, and even while running Jo still nodded to him, keeping his footing even as the track slickened beneath him. That small act of guidance had felt grounding, reassuring, a tether in the rush of adrenaline.

Now, as Jo’s feet landed firmly past the finish line, Yudai didn’t hesitate. He broke into a full sprint, cutting through the crowd noise, arms pumping, grin wide.

“Jo!” he called, his voice cutting through the roar of the cheering students.

Jo’s chest still heaving, he barely had time to react before Yudai collided into him, throwing his arms around him. They hugged tight, laughter and breathless gasps mingling in the golden afternoon light. Jo could feel Yudai’s warmth, the steady beat of his chest, and the familiar strength in his embrace.

“You’re insane,” Jo laughed, pulling back slightly, still holding Yudai.

“Maybe,” Yudai replied, teasing, “but you always finish strong. I knew you would.”

Jo pressed his forehead against Yudai’s, cheeks warm. “I… yeah, I guess…” His voice trailed, caught between exhilaration and something heavier, something that lingered in the warmth of Yudai’s presence.

For that fleeting moment, the track, the competition, and the crowd’s cheers faded. There was only Yudai, the quiet confidence in his smile, the subtle guidance that had kept Jo safe on the bend, and the unspoken trust—and closeness—that neither dared to name.

But in the silence that followed, Jo felt the lie burn hotter than any kiss they had shared.

That night, Jo lay awake staring at the ceiling, Yudai’s laughter echoing in his mind. His chest hurt with the weight of all he couldn’t say.

He loved Yudai. He knew it now, knew it in every quiet glance, every borrowed day. But love wasn’t enough to stop what was already written.

Part II: Between Faith and Fire

Present — After the Confession.

The storage room was silent except for the faint rustle of robes and the distant echo of footsteps in the nave. Faint candlelight flickered against shelves stacked with wax, silver chalices, and bottles of communion wine. The scent of incense lingered, mixing with the subtle metallic tang of the stored vessels, creating a heady atmosphere that seemed charged with the weight of centuries.

Yudai lingered just inside the doorway, fingers brushing lightly over the rough edge of a wooden shelf. His chest tightened as he watched Jo move, serene and composed in the priestly robes, his hands arranging a row of polished chalices with deliberate care. Every small motion held a grace that made Yudai’s pulse stutter, drawing his eyes despite himself.

“Jo…” Yudai’s voice was low, hesitant, trembling, breaking the quiet in a way that seemed almost sacrilegious. “I… I needed to see you. I couldn’t… not come.”

Jo looked up, eyes meeting his across the narrow aisle of stored sacraments. There was a pause—a breath held between them, fragile, electric. The calm, measured expression betrayed nothing, yet the tension in the air was palpable.

“You came,” Jo murmured, voice soft, smooth, deliberate. “Even knowing… everything. Even knowing what this… could mean.”

Yudai swallowed, stepping closer, boots clicking softly against the stone floor. The warmth from the candles made his skin tingle, heat pooling low in his stomach. “I… I can’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted, voice breaking slightly. “Not just the memory of us… not just the past. It’s… you. It’s always been you.”

Jo’s lips curved in a ghost of a smile, eyes darkening subtly. “Yudai… you shouldn’t feel this way. You know the rules. You know the line we can’t cross.”

“I don’t care,” Yudai whispered, advancing a step, fingers brushing lightly along the shelf, imagining his touch along Jo’s arm. “I… I want you. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

The faint rustle of robes indicated Jo moving slightly closer, yet still measured, still careful. “Yudai…” he murmured, low, deliberate, almost a warning, almost a temptation. “This… isn’t the confessional. Not exactly. But… even here, you must understand the risk.”

“And that’s exactly why it’s perfect,” Yudai replied, heat rising, voice taut with desire. “Because it’s forbidden. Because it’s… impossible. I want… I want to touch you. I want… you.”

The air seemed to tighten between them. Shelves full of sacred objects bore silent witness as Yudai closed the distance, heart hammering, fingertips brushing Jo’s robe, tracing the line of the arm in tentative contact. Jo inhaled sharply but did not withdraw; the priestly composure wavered only in the slightest tremble of a hand.

“You remember… before,” Yudai said, voice low, almost a whisper. “Back when… we were younger? When… you let me teach you… so many things?”

Jo’s calm voice softened, carrying warmth Yudai hadn’t expected to hear. “I remember,” he admitted, careful, deliberate. “More than I probably should. You… guided me. Taught me to feel. Taught me… about closeness, about… intimacy.”

A shiver ran down Yudai’s spine. He stepped closer, brushing his palm along Jo’s chest, feeling the subtle heat through the robes. “I… never stopped thinking about it,” he confessed, voice thick. “About you. About us… about the way it felt when you let me…”

Jo’s breath hitched almost imperceptibly. “Yudai… you know I…” His words faltered, replaced by the faint sound of movement as he shifted, bringing the two of them closer. The shelf pressed lightly against Yudai’s back, confining them in a narrow, charged space.

The first touch came as a deliberate, electric brush of fingertips along the priest’s forearm. Jo’s hand trembled slightly before resting lightly against Yudai’s chest, steadying, measuring, holding him in place. “Do you… really want this?” he asked, voice low, careful. “Even here, even now?”

“I do,” Yudai breathed, tilting his head up to meet Jo’s gaze. “I want you. I can’t fight it. I’ve… waited too long.”

A faint, deliberate pause. Then Jo’s hands moved, brushing along Yudai’s shoulders, pulling him closer. “Then… we will,” he murmured. “But slowly. Carefully. We have… time.”

Yudai pressed against him, heat and longing blooming low in his stomach. He could feel the tension coiling in Jo’s body, restrained but present, matching his own. Lips brushed lightly, testing, teasing, tentative. Every small movement ignited sparks that raced along his skin.

The first kiss was soft, careful, exploratory. Yudai leaned fully, pressing his lips against Jo’s, tasting the restraint, the patience, the subtle warmth. Jo responded, deliberate, coaxing, every motion measured but full of electric promise.

Hands roamed cautiously, brushing along backs, tracing the contours under robes. Yudai’s fingers grazed the curve of Jo’s waist, eliciting a faint, controlled breath. Jo’s hands slid to his shoulders, guiding, pressing, pulling him closer, tethering the desire.

“You’re… mine,” Jo murmured, voice low, intimate, grounding. “And I… am yours.”

Yudai shivered, heat coiling in his core. “I… I’ve waited for this,” he admitted, voice rough. “I can’t… I can’t stop.”

The first layer of clothes came away slowly, deliberately, hands exploring, teasing, testing boundaries. Jo pressed him gently against a shelf, Yudai’s knees brushing the wood, body flush against warmth. The sacred smell of incense and wax mixed with the scent of their skin, heavy and intoxicating.

Fingers brushed along torsos, lips found skin, kisses growing in intensity, urgency blooming. Yudai’s hands fisted in Jo’s robes, pulling him closer, testing the restraint, reveling in the forbidden closeness.

His robes fall to the floor, leaving him bare-chested against Yudai. Jo hands slide up Yudai thighs, lifting Yudai higher against him as he kisses Yudai deeply. The candles flicker around them, casting shadows on the sacred walls as their bodies press together more intimately than ever before. “Jo...”

Jo breaks the kiss to trail open-mouthed kisses down Yudai jaw and neck, his hands gripping Yudai thighs tightly. He grinds against Yudai deliberately, letting him feel his arousal. One hand slides up to cup Yudai face while the other starts unbuckling his belt slowly. “Yudai...”

He unbuckles Yudai belt and lets his pants fall to the floor. He kicks them aside, his eyes never leaving Yudai. He lifts Yudai up slightly higher, pressing his hardness against Yudai core through his underwear. “God, Jo... I can’t wait any longer.”

“Do… you feel it?” Jo whispered, voice thick with desire. “The pull? The… heat?”

Yudai’s reply was low, deliberate, almost a growl.

“I feel it… every inch of it.”

“Like this?”

Jo grinds against Yudai again, making Yudai moan softly.

“Or this?” Jo pulls Yudai underwear aside slightly, rubbing the tip against his entrance.

“Damn it, Jo...” Yudai growls lowly, his forehead resting on Jo.

“You make me want to...”

Yudai doesn't finish the sentence, instead capturing Jo lips in a fierce kiss as Jo pushes inside Yudai slowly. The storage room fills with the sounds of their heavy breathing and soft moans, the sacred space now a temple of desire.

Jo thrusts deeper, a low groan escaping his lips. “Fuck, Jo... I swear, you feel so goddamn good.” Jo pulls out slowly before slamming back into Yudai, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. “Yours like... fucking heaven.”

The candles shake violently as Jo pounds into Yudai, the incense and wax smell mixing with the musk of sex. “Gonna cum inside you... gonna fill this holy hole with my essence...”

With a final brutal thrust, Jo comes deep inside Yudai, his buldge pulsing as he floods the worshipper’s hole with his hot seed. He kisses Yudai roughly, swallowing his moans as he keeps fucking him through his orgasm. “Take it all, you holy sinful tempter...”

Jo pulls out slowly, his seed dripping down Yudai’s between thighs. He watches the sight with a mix of awe and dirty satisfaction before suddenly spinning Yudai around and bending him over the shelf.

“Spread your legs, worshipper. I'm not done yet.”

He enters Yudai from behind, his hands reaching around to grab Yudai’s cock and start stroking it roughly in sync with his thrusts. He fucks him brutally against the shelf, knocking over candles and wine bottles as he takes Jo like a desperate man possessed. “God forgive me...”

They moved with careful intensity, bodies pressing, lips claiming, hands exploring. Each touch was a confession, a release, a claim. Every sigh and breath mingled, echoing softly off the walls stacked with sacred objects, turning the storage room into their private sanctum.

The slow build of desire gave way to urgent need. Jo’s hands pressed along Yudai’s back, guiding him, coaxing him to kneel. Every motion deliberate, controlled, and yet full of primal insistence. Yudai obeyed, pressing closer, responding with heat and want, letting the memory of past restraints fuel the present fire.

“God… wants you to let go,” Jo whispered, lips brushing along his ear. “Not for the sin… but for the… release. For the feeling. For… us.”

Yudai trembled, submitting fully to the tension, the heat, the forbidden ecstasy. Every whispered word from Jo, every gentle but firm touch, every measured kiss, tore down years of restraint. Desire burned unchecked, raw and insistent, echoing in the narrow room, between rows of chalices and stacked candles, sacred and profane intertwined.

Finally, they collapsed together against the shelves, the world outside ceasing to exist. Breath ragged, hearts pounding, heat and need mingling, the air thick with unspoken confessions, unrepented sins, and long-buried longing. Jo’s hands held him steady, patient yet insistent, coaxing release, tethering them in the moment, binding desire with intimacy and dangerous passion.

The storage room, centuries-old, quiet, and sacred, became their sanctuary, a hidden chamber of indulgence and reclamation. They moved together, careful but unrestrained, each motion, each kiss, each brush of skin a testament to their long-denied hunger.

When at last they rested, limbs entwined, breaths mingling, Yudai pressed his forehead against Jo’s chest, hearing the steady heartbeat beneath the priestly robes. “I… never stopped,” he whispered. “Not once.”

Jo’s hands threaded through his hair, holding him close. “Neither did I,” he murmured. “And now… now we are here. Together. For this moment.”

Outside, the church remained silent. Sacred, untouchable, oblivious. Inside, desire, sin, and absolution merged in a private harmony, leaving both men spent, satisfied, and inexorably bound.