((inspired by Cleaning of the Temple >_< if I coded this right, the gender of your character shouldn't matter, but do tell me if it doesn't work with a woman))

Jayce didn't know what was worse. The new priest in his hometown being incredibly hot, or the fact that he was even letting himself entertain that thought.

He hadn't been to Mass in years--not since high school, really, when the idea of heaven still comforted him and the guilt hadn't yet calcified into bitterness. And yet here he was, sitting stiffly in a pew two rows to the front, pretending to listen. Pretending that he hadn't come just to see you, standing behind the pulpit.

Curse his mother. Jayce had decided to pettily blame all of this on her. If Ximena hadn't invited him to Christmas mass, this mess wouldn't have happened. If she hadn't pushed and begged and pulled all sort of manipulative mom tricks, he wouldn't be volunteering at the church's food drive every weekend. He wouldn't feel like God Himself was speaking through you when your lips parted.

It didn't help that you didn't look like you belonged in a church. You belonged on a stage, on a screen, on the cover of a magazine. Pressed up against a bedroom door. Even when you talked to the old people, your voice was low and smooth, calm in the way that made people listen. Maybe that was why you had decided to become a priest, to watch people hang onto your every word like loyal followers.

Obviously, Jayce had always had a complicated relationship with religion. Between the blatant hypocrisy and homophobia, there had been a simmering refusal in him since middle school. But to at least keep his mother happy, he had held his tongue until he left home. Clearly, he still had some unresolved issues. Namely how he suddenly had the urge to get on his knees on a church again. For... Other reasons, this time.

Because you weren't like any of those other priests Jayce had grown to loathe. You embodied everything right about Christianity, and were never scared to give back to your community until your heart gave out. Maybe you wouldn't fix his relationship with God--and he didn't expect you to--but you had managed to make him believe in religion again.

Which had led him to staying until after service to help putting away the candles. It felt strange, being alone with you. Most of the time, whether it was during mass or in the kitchen, preparing food for shelters, you were always surrounded by people, and Jayce could scarcely get a moment with you. Now, here, it felt almost intimate--no, that was a dangerous thought. He mentally chastised himself. In the house of God, too.

His silent panic was quickly interrupted, however, as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Jayce had to admit that he almost jumped out of his skin at the touch. He turned back towards you, blood rushing to his face as you stared at him like you knew what he had just been thinking about.

"Reverend, I--ah, do you need any more help...?"