Callum: A M/M Romance

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Callum: A M/M Romance Page 6

by Dakota Rebel


  “You really don’t care?” I blinked back tears as I stared down at my feet. I’d spent years worrying about what my parents would think if I admitted to them that I was gay. I’d never once heard a disparaging word from either of them about homosexuals. But out there wasn’t the same as in your own home. It wasn’t the same as hearing it from your own child. And I’d been terrified of disappointing them.

  “My darling son.” She walked over and wrapped her arms around me. “We never cared. Your father and I love you. And we’ve known since you were quite young. You boys.” She laughed softly. “You all think you’re so clever. There’s not a thing any of you have done that we don’t know about.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked, hugging her back.

  “We knew you would tell us when you were ready.” She sighed. “But then you went and became a priest. I’ll tell you, Callum, that one was a shock.”

  She pulled back and looked at me, reaching up to wipe my tears away with her thumbs as she beamed up at me.

  “Anyway,” she continued, huffing out a breath. “I just came out here to tell you that dinner is ready. And stop drinking. That’s not going to solve anything.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She started to walk back toward the house, but I grabbed her hand, pulling her into another quick hug. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “You are a nice boy,” she said firmly, hugging me tightly.

  “Murphy and Ronan aren’t really sleeping here tonight, are they?” I asked, my voice muffled from my face being pressed against my mother’s shoulder.

  “They could have,” she answered, her tone thick with humor.

  “You meddlesome woman.” I laughed as I pulled back to look at her again. “I’m still a priest.”

  “Not in this house,” she reminded me, patting my cheek. “Let’s go eat.”

  ****

  “I’m thankful to Declan, for getting up before dawn and raking our lawn this morning,” Dad said, raising a glass to salute the blushing young man seated next to me.

  “Well, I’m grateful to you and Mrs. Ryan for inviting me to your home for Thanksgiving,” Declan said, nodding to my parents.

  “I’m thankful that Declan raked the yard, so I didn’t have to, too,” Niall said…well, slurred.

  “Same,” Murphy and Ronan agreed.

  “I’m also thankful for Declan,” I said, finishing up the family gratitude tradition before Thanksgiving dinner.

  Declan knocked his knee against my leg under the table, the motion causing our thighs to press together. Neither of us pulled away.

  We ate and talked and laughed together and it was wonderful. The whole family rarely got together anymore. And Declan fit right in with everyone. Every dig Niall sent his way, Declan fired back his own shot. He’d earned the respect of my brothers, which wasn’t an easy task.

  After dinner, the men cleaned up, sending my mom off to rest. Once every dish was clean, dry and put away, Murphy and Ronan left together. Niall and my parents went into the den to watch football, and Declan followed me out onto the deck.

  “Do you want a beer?” he asked, pausing at the fridge to grab one on our way outside.

  “I didn’t say yes,” I told him, pulling a cigarette out of my pack and lighting it.

  “Yeah, this is for me.” He popped the cap off and drank half of it down. “Seems like I need to catch up.”

  “I’m sobering up,” I assured him, rolling my eyes as I dropped into the chair next to him. “Look, I’m sorry.”

  “For what, exactly?”

  Okay, that was fair.

  “Everything.” I exhaled heavily. “I shouldn’t have gotten drunk today. It was disrespectful to you.”

  “How do you figure that?” he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, staring at me.

  "Because I’m having a difficult time keeping my hands to myself when I’m around you,” I admitted. “And if I’m drunk, I’m more likely to do something that I can’t take back.”

  “So, you’d want to take it back?”

  “Yes. No. I mean, no, not…” I sighed. “Fuck.”

  “Yeah.” He nodded but smiled weakly at me. “I do know what you mean.”

  “Could you explain it to me?”

  “Yeah, drunky. You’re not going to do anything with me as long as you’re still a priest. You haven’t decided if loving me is enough to make you walk away from the church. If you put moves on me, your choice is made. Because you’re an honorable man. You’re a good man, Callum. You love me, but you love your church.” Declan shrugged. “I’m not taking this situation lightly. I do understand.”

  “Do you understand my concern for you?” I asked him.

  “Do you understand that I’m not actually a child?” He tilted his head and stared at me. “You don’t have to protect me.”

  “I want to protect you,” I said firmly. “I want to shield you from the world. The fact that I’m hurting you is worse for me than any pain I feel on my own behalf.”

  “You should get to bed,” he said, draining his beer. “You’re becoming a stereotype right now.”

  “Fuck you,” I said, leaning back in the chair and staring up at the sky.

  “If only,” he whispered. “I’m going to your room to read for a while. I’m about to go into a food coma.”

  “I’ll bring up some pie later,” I offered.

  He walked by me and I grabbed his hand, stopping him. We looked at each other for a minute, volumes of unspoken words passing between us. There was so much I wanted to say to him. Instead, I kissed his fingers gently, then let him go.

  His hand slid over my head, his fingers carding through my hair for a moment, then he went inside, leaving me alone with thoughts I didn’t want to be having at all.

  Chapter Twelve

  ~Declan~

  “Did the book offend you?” Callum asked, walking into the room just as I’d tossed my textbook to the floor with an exasperated sigh.

  “It’s impossible,” I complained. “Ronan tried to help me, but I’m hopeless.”

  “You’ll be fine,” he assured me.

  He walked over and sat next to me, handing me a fork and setting an entire apple pie between us.

  “How can you still be hungry?” I asked him.

  “I’m a growing boy.” He shrugged. “Plus, I’m crashing from all the booze. I need sugar or I’m going to pass out.”

  We sat together in silence for a while, somehow managing to eat our way through a whole pie even though I’d been sure I couldn’t eat another bite.

  I was utterly exhausted. This thing with Callum had me tied in knots, my schoolwork was a joke and I’d never eaten so much in my life. I leaned back against the wall and yawned deeply.

  “You should get some sleep,” Callum said, picking up the empty pie plate and walking it over to set it on the nightstand.

  “M’not tired,” I lied.

  “Okay.” I heard rustling and opened my eyes to see him taking off his shirt.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I asked, my gaze locked on the bare abs he’d displayed to me.

  “Getting ready for bed?” He raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t getting naked.”

  “You’re half naked,” I insisted.

  My mouth had gone completely dry and unfortunately, my cock had gone hard as a rock seeing his body on display.

  “Sorry,” he said, reaching down to pick his shirt back up.

  I jumped to my feet and strode over to him, pulling it out of his hand and throwing it toward my bed.

  “You have to stop this,” I begged him. I ran my hand up his skin and shuddered. He was so warm. So hard. “You’re driving me insane.”

  “I honestly didn’t think about it,” he said, his hand covering mine on his chest.

  “Really?” I reached down and ripped off my sweater, tossing it aside. “You didn’t think about it?”

  “That’s not fair,” he whispered, his gaze raking down my body.

  “Yeah, fuck
ing tell me about it.” I ran my palm up his cheek and he turned into the touch, pressing his lips against my hand. “What are we gonna do, Callum?”

  “We’re going to go to bed,” he said with a shrug. “And we’re going to talk. Not fight. And we’re definitely…keeping our pants on.”

  I nodded, walking back toward my cot, but he caught my arm and pulled me back to him.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “To bed?” I felt my eyebrows furrow in confusion.

  “No.” He pushed me down onto his bed. “We got crumbs in your sheets. You can’t sleep there tonight.”

  “Are you still drunk?” I whispered, staring up into his eyes which had gone dark and dangerous.

  “Aye,” he agreed. “Which is why our pants are staying on. Scoot over, that’s my side.”

  My breath hitched, but I slid to the other side of the bed and Callum climbed in after me, leaning against the headboard and looking down at me.

  “I dream about you, too,” he said softly. “And you were right, I did look for you. I was always looking for you.”

  “I don’t think we should be talking like this,” I warned him, propping my head up on my fist to look at him.

  “You’ve been nothing but honest with me, Declan. And I keep holding back. For obvious reasons, but mostly…I’m still just that scared little kid trying to hide myself behind the church.”

  “Don’t say things to me that you’re going to regret tomorrow,” I said.

  “I regret not saying these things to you a long time ago.” He sighed and rolled his gaze to the ceiling.

  For a moment he was silent, and I think he may have been praying. I shifted, mimicking his relaxed pose against the headboard, staring at my hands where they rested in my lap.

  “If you get kicked out of school, it could ruin your chance to go pro,” he said after a minute. “And I’ll be unemployed, so I won’t be able to support us.”

  “Your mom said I could live here,” I teased, hoping to lighten the mood that had crashed down around us.

  “I want to be with you.” He turned his head and looked at me, his eyes wide and bright with unshed tears. “I do. But I’m so scared.”

  “So am I,” I admitted. “You’re not the only one risking everything here.”

  “Then why do you want me so bad?”

  “Because I would walk away from anything for you.” I knocked him with my shoulder. “Even you if you need me to.”

  “I don’t deserve you.” He shook his head and dropped his gaze from mine.

  “You don’t,” I agreed, smirking. “But you’ve got me.” I reached out and turned his face back to look at me. “If you want me.”

  “Come here.”

  He pulled me against his side, pushing my head down to rest on his bare chest. His heart was thudding against my ear and I exhaled a breath it felt like I’d been holding for a month.

  I rested my fingers on his stomach and closed my eyes. I loved him, and for the moment, I had him. Tomorrow was another day and another chance to figure out what the hell we were going to do.

  Chapter Thirteen

  ~Callum~

  “Forgive me father, for I have sinned,” I said, leaning back in the confessional and resting my head against the wall.

  “Callum Ryan, is that you?” Father O’Shea asked.

  “This is supposed to be anonymous,” I reminded him, rolling my eyes.

  “I’ve been taking your confessions since catechism,” he said, a smile in his tone. “Are you home for Thanksgiving?”

  “Yes, sir,” I confirmed.

  “Would you like to come to my office for coffee?”

  I hung my head and sighed. I should have known he wasn’t going to make this easy for me. Other than my immediate family, Father Kiernan O’Shea knew me better than anyone.

  He walked out of the booth and I followed him to his office. I sat in the chair by the fireplace that I’d occupied many times in the past while he brought over steaming mugs, placing them on the table between us.

  “How are your brothers?” he asked. “I haven’t received a confessional from them in quite a while.”

  “Yeah.” I laughed and shook my head. “You couldn’t get Niall here at gunpoint.”

  “I don’t think my heart could handle the things that young man might confess to me.”

  “He’s a good kid,” I argued feebly.

  My brother was a good man, but he kept secrets from us. And I knew there was something going on with him at the moment, something pretty big if he wasn’t willing to talk to me about it.

  “He is,” Kiernan agreed. “But we’re here to talk about you. Am I to assume that I am a priest at the moment? You came for confession, but you look like you need a friend more.”

  “I came to the booth because I didn’t want to see disappointment on your face,” I admitted.

  “I’ve never been disappointed in you Callum.”

  “I know,” I agreed. “That’s why I’m worried about it now.”

  “What’s happened?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied me.

  “I’ve fallen in love with a twenty-one-year-old kid who is a student at my school.” I blurted it out quickly, dropping my gaze from his to avoid the pain I knew I’d see on his weathered face.

  “Mazel tov!” Kiernan said, slapping my thigh.

  “Father!” I snapped, rolling my eyes and looking up at him to find him grinning at me.

  “What’s his name?” Kiernan asked, his eyes sparkling.

  “Declan,” I admitted.

  “He must be pretty special.”

  “How do you figure that?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Well, he’s managed to navigate his way through twenty years of self-induced shame and fear to get to your heart. That sounds pretty special to me.” Kiernan spread his hands in front of himself. “But then, what do I know?”

  “I don’t know what to do,” I said, getting to my feet and pulling out a cigarette. “You mind?”

  “Not if you share,” he assured me, reaching for one.

  I paced his office for a few minutes, both of us smoking together in silence, the way we’d done that fateful night six years prior when I’d begged him to back me for priesthood.

  “Callum,” he said finally. “Why did you come here?”

  “To confess my sins,” I said as if it were obvious.

  “I doubt you’ve committed any,” he said, his brow furrowing. “Have you so much as kissed this young man?”

  “Of course not,” I insisted.

  “Love is not a sin, Callum.”

  “This love is,” I said pointedly.

  “Don’t do that,” he snapped, getting to his feet. “Don’t spout doctrines that our own church barely holds onto anymore.”

  “The bible says—”

  “The bible says a lot of things,” Kiernan interrupted. “As I’ve been studying and debating it since before you were born, please give me some credit for knowing what’s in it.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said, falling silent again.

  “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life,” Kiernan said softly. “But the one I regret most is allowing you to hide in the church. You weren’t the first confused, scared, young, gay man to come to me and request priesthood. And you weren’t the last.” He shook his head and sighed, signaling to me for another cigarette. “But you were the only one I didn’t want to give it to.”

  “Then why did you?” I asked.

  “Because you were my favorite,” he said sadly. “You are my favorite. I love the entire Ryan family, Callum. But of anyone who has ever sat in the pews of my church, you were the one I most wished were my own son.”

  I coughed around the lump that was forming in my throat. I’d always been close with Father O’Shea, but I’d never realized that I was as important to him as he was to me.

  “Thank you, sir,” I said.

  “Do you wish to leave the church?” he asked.<
br />
  “Yes, sir,” I whispered.

  “Callum?”

  “Yes, sir,” I said firmly, squaring my shoulders and lifting my chin. This was what I wanted. No more questions. No more doubts. I was choosing Declan. And I refused to be ashamed of that.

  “Let’s call Monsignor Dunn.” He walked over to his desk and asked his secretary to put a call through to my boss.

  My heart was thudding in my chest, blood rushing so loudly through my ears that I didn’t even hear when the man answered.

  “Monsignor,” Kiernan said brightly. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’ve got Father Ryan in my office and we need to speak with you.”

  “Good morning, Monsignor,” I said, looking at Kiernan over his desk.

  “Good morning,” Monsignor Dunn said, his tone weary. “What can I help you gentleman with?”

  “Sir,” I said. “I’m calling to officially resign my post at the school.”

  “And why is that?” Dunn said coldly.

  “I will be leaving the priesthood.”

  Silence fell in the room, heavy and oppressive. I gripped the edge of the desk so tightly my knuckles turned white and I was having a hard time getting my breathing under control.

  “Has this anything to do with Declan McNair?” the monsignor asked.

  “I can assure you there has been no impropriety on either of the young men’s parts,” Kiernan interjected.

  “No, I don’t think for a moment there has been,” Dunn concurred. “I have no doubts that Father Ryan has been anything but appropriate with a student. However, this puts me in a precarious position that I don’t appreciate.”

  “Sir?” I sat down and shot a worried look to Kiernan.

  “You’ve confirmed that one of my students is a homosexual, Father Ryan. We are a Catholic school, regardless of how progressive we or the pope assume ourselves to be.”

  “You can’t punish him for this!” I yelled. “He’s an asset to the school and he’s going to be drafted to a professional hockey team.”

  “Calm down, Callum,” Dunn snapped. “Kiernan, you condone this?”

  “I believe it is in everyone’s best interest for Callum to step down,” Kiernan said.

 

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