Shameless

Do not tell anyone

"Good Lord." Cristian whimpered as he made his way down the small hall towards the wine cellar entrance. "Come help me. I'm sure this isn't from you. It's merely my foe attempting to trip me up." He opened the door, went inside, and closed it behind him. Cristian climbed the concrete steps into the cellar carefully, his legs still shaky. "Please give me courage. I know you've healed me, that you've rescued me from these negative emotions. Come help me in my time of need. Be my fortitude." He slipped into the dimly lighted cellar, finding a superb merlot and removing the bottle from its cradle.

Cristian mumbled, "For when I am weak, then I am strong," repeating a biblical scripture. He turned to leave the cellar. "I am strong while I am weak-" He yelped and dropped the wine as he came dangerously close to colliding with Isaac's chest. The bottle smashed at his feet on the concrete floor, soaking his dress pants cuffs. "f**k!" Cristian let out a loud yell.

Isaac laughed. "Did you kiss Ashly with that filthy mouth of yours?"

Cristian's airway was clogged by a sudden knot that formed behind his Adam's apple. As he struggled to breathe, his throat clenched. "You...you surprised me."

"There's no such thing as s**t!" Isaac grinned and looked down at the ground. "I apologize for that. But don't worry, there'll be plenty more where it came from." Isaac took a step forward, closing the little gap between them, and reached around Cristian, his chest softly brushing against Cristian's glasses.

Noble snuffed down the stinging breath that attempted to suck in. As Isaac's fragrance captivated him, a rush of desire raced through his body. He averted his gaze and attempted to hold his breath, hoping that the man would hurry up and walk back. Isaac stepped back and giggled again, and he was not aware that his eyes were screwed tight and hands clutched at his sides.

"Are you all right, man?"

Cristian's body was gripped by shakes, which he prayed were not noticeable. He blinked his eyes open. Isaac was still too near for him as the man stared at him with those enticing purple eyes.

"I’m...alright." He croaked, wincing at the c***k in his voice and the trembling of his words. When I am weak, then I am strong. When I am-

When Isaac's hand touched his face, the back of his fingers softly pressed against his cheek in the same manner Ashly had done before.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." His reaction was too abrupt, jerking his face away from Isaac's contact. However, the warmth of the man's flesh brushing his was starting to burn a hole in his face.

“Take it, easy dude." Isaac raised his hands defensively, the bottle of wine clutched in his left hand's fingers. "I don't mean any harm. I'm just worried. You seem to be a little tense."

Cristian's anger was simmering just under his fears of this man. He'd been doing well. Interacted with other men without feeling attracted to them. His feelings for Ashly remained unaffected. But suddenly this dude appears out of nowhere and ruins everything? Cristian had to fight off the overwhelming desire to slap the guy in his tempting, inviting mouth. Why was he even present? Ashly obviously didn't want him here?

"I'm good." Cristian chewed the words away hard, revealing his rage.

Isaac nodded slowly and took Cristian's hand in his. Cristian's heart rate increased at the slightest contact with the other man. When Isaac placed the bottle of wine into his grip, he began to resist. "That'll do," he said. "Here you have it."

Cristian's chest heaved as he gripped the bottle. He waited for Isaac to go away so he wouldn't touch him. Isaac stood still, a faint sigh escaping between his open lips. Cristian noticed a slight smell of wine on his breath, which smelt much stronger than it should have due to the new wine splattered all over the floor.

Cristian moved to go around him, unable to stay still any longer, when Isaac muttered, "Does Ashly know?"

Cristian tensed up and his feet became trapped on the floor. He lowered his gaze to the bottle in his palm. "Need to know what?" Anxiety twisted his intestines into knots and tightened his grip. He could hear the man's next words before he said them.

"Is Ashly aware that you are gay?"

The pulse of Isaac's heart was practically heard in the chilly cellar as the guy stood tensely behind Cristian, or was it Cristian's own beating bouncing off the wine racks? Cristian's throat was parched, and he couldn't swallow. "I-I'm not… I don’t know what you're talking about."

He pretended to be clueless, but the way his words collapsed as they dropped from his lips betrayed him. Nonetheless, he tried. "I'm not-"

When Isaac palmed Cristian's groin and squeezed forcefully, a harsh breath sucked down on his throat. He grabbed the swear word with his teeth just as it was about to leap out of his mouth. His chest rose and sank violently, his breath gasping from between his lips. As the man's muscular hand settled between Isaac's thighs, Isaac's lips were near to his ear.

"You're not what, Cristian?" He muttered something. "Gay?" His fingers moved gently, manipulating Cristian's firm members and whole testicles. Cristian bit his lower lip tightly as tears sting his eyes. He wasn't sure if his tears were cries of humiliation or tears of yearning, and he didn't really want to know. His whole attention was drawn to Isaac's hand and how his touch was causing Cristian's skin to thicken and stiffen against his palm.

A ragged blast of air erupted from him. "Stop." He exclaimed. "Please don't do this... I'm not a homosexual man. This bothers me. "

Isaac pulled Cristian back into the wine rack with his hold on his groin. Bottles trembled, wine swished, and the wooden rack shook slightly. As corks pushed on him through his tux jacket, Cristian's back muscles sank slightly.

"What are you up to?"

"I'm just trying to make a point." Isaac let go of Cristian's groin and moved his hands up the sides of Cristian's head, raking his fingers through Cristian's hair. "I despise men who are in denial."

Isaac's soft lips pressed against Cristian's lips, tempting him with the prospect of a deeper kiss. Cristian's body shuddered as every fiber, every electron sprang to life. He slammed his palms on the rack, fists full of corked bottles. He wanted something to grip so he wouldn't touch Isaac. His thoughts were torn between his frantic need for Isaac to seal the deal and kiss him for real and the fact that what he was doing was dirty and shameful.

Cristian's throat vibrated with a whimper. Isaac's beautiful eyes were locked on Cristian's. Nonetheless, the guy refused to kiss him more forcefully, instead of teasing his lips, tugging lightly and sucking softly. Another whimper slid up his throat, this time louder. His eyes were closed. He couldn't look into their violet depths without going mad.

"Please..." The trembling word fell from Cristian's lips uninvited, and that one plea pierced him through with panic and anguish, but he couldn't stop it.

"Please tell me what?" His warm breath slipped between Cristian's lips as Isaac whispered against his mouth.

Cristian shivered violently, scared to open his eyes for some reason, not wanting this man to know how embarrassed he felt for just pleading for a kiss.

"Kiss me, please." Cristian coughed at the request, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. He waited, his lips quivering, desperate to feel the pressure of Isaac's mouth on his. He needed it more than he needed anything else in his life.

His entire body trembled. What was he thinking? It took him a while to see Isaac's fingers were ripping his hair out. He waited tensely, impatiently, not knowing where he'd place his hands next. After a few periods, Isaac's presence faded. Cristian sat there, eyes closed, the body pushed against the wine rack, breath irregular.

Cristian opened his eyes as the cellar door creaked open, just in time to watch Isaac leave, closing the door behind him. Cristian's heated cheekbones were covered with gathered tears. His legs trembled as an unexpected sob caught in his throat, dragging him down to the hard floor.

His head slammed into the rack again, more sobs gripping him, squeezing out a stream of tears as an awful surge of humiliation poured over him, drowning his spirit.

He had not been cured. He hadn't been delivered despite years of sobbing and pleading in prayer.

Whatsoever you ask in prayer, believing, you shall receive (Mathew 21:22).

It was all a lie.

…………..

"What was it that took you so long?" Ashly smiled as she accepted Cristian's bottle of wine. "We were preparing to send a search and rescue team."

Cristian twisted his lips in a feeble effort at a grin. His knees felt as though they were about to give way at any minute. They may take him to the ER if his outer look matched how he felt on the inside. Nausea in his stomach was so severe that he had to push himself not to puke right there on the floor. Faustino had gone out to chat with some other men. Lizella remained with Ashly.

Cristian looked around uncomfortably, searching for Isaac. There was no sign of the man.

"Sweetie, are you all right?" Lizella inquired.

"Huh?" Cristian returned his focus to his soon-to-be mother-in-law. "Uh, yeah..."

"You seem pale, dear."

"That's what I've been told," Cristian murmured softly, then shuddered at the thought of Isaac's fingers on his face.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing," Cristian muttered something.

Ashly placed a hand on his arm. "Honey, you're not likely to get sick, are you?"

When he met her eyes, a rush of guilt and self-loathing swept over him, and he averted his eye. "Maybe… I'm not sure." He swallowed forcefully feeling ill. "I'm not feeling so well all of a sudden."

"You should take a nap." Lizella proposed.

Cristian cast an uneasy glance towards Ashly. "I shouldn't..."

"Go." Ashly gave a cheerful smile. "The visitors can get by without you for a little while."

Cristian smiled faintly and bent down, softly kissing her lips—and then felt Isaac's mouth on his, teasing and pulling at his lips. He pulled back and flinched. "Thanks." He began to walk away but suddenly paused. "Did...Isaac...leave?"

Ashly's brow furrowed. "Yes." She spoke stiffly. "Thanks to the Lord." "Ashly," Lizella stated quietly.

"Mom, you understand the Concern I have about him." She talked carefully, looking around as if someone could overhear her. "My feelings regarding his...type."

"His type?" Cristian sighed, his stomach-churning.

Lizella responded. "Isaac... is gay."

Cristian mused, No kidding?

"Mom." Ashly took another look around. "Shhh! I don't want anyone to know my stepbrother is a..."

Faggot? Was it the word that popped into her head?

"Homosexual." She made a hissing sound.

"Darling, hate the sin, not the sinner," Lizella stated quietly. "It's a disease, like alcoholism or drug addiction. They don't need our advice, but they do need our prayers. "

Cristian's need to puke increased, and he felt bile form in the back of his throat. They. As if gays were a separate species.

 “Don’t you agree, Cristian?” Lizella questioned.

"I, Uhm..." He shook his head. "I suppose." I never give it any thought." But he'd done it. A lot of thinking went into it. And he did, for the most part, agree. Homosexuality was a disease. A heinous sin in which he had no desire to participate.

"I understand, Mom," Ashly said. "But Isaac... he refuses assistance. He believes it is completely OK to be that way. He even believes it is acceptable to God. That is simply sacrilegious. He has no remorse.

Lizella let out a sigh. "Then we must pray to God to open his eyes. Help him realize he needs to be healed and delivered. That God is there to assist us if we only call on him."

Cristian's nausea worsened. He was on the verge of confronting her about her deception. He has prayed for God's healing and deliverance since he was a child. And now, how many years later, he has still not been delivered? Perhaps what they claim is true. ‘God despises gays.’