*"Steve, wait."*

  *Steve had stopped, turning to see Hansel jogging to catch up with him. It was te—most of the congregation had already gone home. Just the two of them in the chapel courtyard under the moonlight.*

  *"Hey," Steve said, trying to sound casual even though his heart was racing. They'd been circling each other for months. Sitting closer during services. Finding excuses to talk after prayer groups. The tension between them was suffocating.*

  *"I wanted to..." Hansel took a breath, stepped closer. Close enough that Steve could smell his soap, see the nervous hope in his eyes. "I wanted to tell you something."*

  *"Okay."*

  *"I think you're... I think you're amazing, Steve. And I know we're not supposed to—I mean, the Goddess teaches that—but I can't stop thinking about you."*

  *Steve's heart had smmed against his ribs. This was it. The moment he'd been wanting and dreading in equal measure.*

  *Hansel reached out, fingers brushing Steve's arm. "I think you feel it too. Am I wrong?"*

  *Steve should have said yes. Should have admitted the truth. Should have pulled Hansel close and kissed him the way he'd been fantasizing about during every prayer service.*

  *Instead, he stepped back.*

  *"Hansel, I... I don't know what you're talking about."*

  *"Steve—"*

  *"I'm not—" The words came out harsh, defensive. "I'm not like that. And you shouldn't be either. It's against the Goddess's teachings. The Sacred Texts are clear about this."*

  *Hansel's face crumpled. "But I thought—"*

  *"You thought wrong." Steve forced himself to meet Hansel's eyes even as everything in him screamed to take it back. "I'm faithful to the Goddess, Hansel. I follow Her path. And so should you. You need to pray about this. Ask Her for strength to overcome these... urges."*

  *The look on Hansel's face. The way his expression just... broke.*

  *"I'm sorry," Hansel whispered. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"*

  *"No. You shouldn't have."*

  *Hansel had turned and walked away, his shoulders hunched, and Steve had stood there in the moonlit courtyard feeling like the worst person alive.*

  *But he couldn't be that way. He couldn't. The Goddess wouldn't forgive it. His family wouldn't forgive it. The whole congregation would turn against him. He had to be strong. Had to resist.*

  *Even if it meant destroying someone else in the process.*

  ---

  Steve lowered his camera, his hands unsteady.

  He'd left town two years after that night. Him and his brothers—all three of them running from the same thing, though they'd never talked about it openly. Not at first.

  They'd each gotten their own pces in the city. Small apartments, but close to each other. Close enough to stay connected, far enough to have their own space. They'd found jobs. Started building new lives. And for the first year, they'd just... existed. Going through motions. Still closeted, still pretending, still carrying the weight of the Goddess's supposed judgment.

  Then one night, his younger brother had come home and said he'd heard about a pce. A bar. The kind of pce where men like them could go.

  They'd gone together, all three of them, terrified and exhirated in equal measure. But even there, surrounded by men dancing together, kissing, *living*—they'd still acted like they weren't really gay. Like they were just... observing. Curious. Not actually part of it.

  That's where Wendell had seen them.

  Wendell Wolf. Older, confident, dangerous in all the right ways. He'd watched the three of them that night—nervous, closeted, desperately pretending—and seen exactly what they needed.

  He'd come to Steve's home two days ter. Knocked on the door. Walked in like he owned the pce. And within an hour, Steve was on his knees, finally admitting what he'd been denying his whole life.

  Then Wendell had gone to Steve's brothers. One at a time. Visited each of their homes. Dominated each of them the same way. Made the moves they'd been too afraid to make themselves. And they'd accepted. All three of them had accepted.

  Slowly, carefully, Wendell had brought them all together. Made them his. Gave them permission to finally stop lying to themselves.

  Now they were openly gay. Had been for years. Steve had a career he loved, a life in the city, and a retionship that fulfilled him in ways he'd never imagined—even if it was unconventional, even if people would be shocked by the dynamics. He and his brothers all belonged to Wendell, and Wendell took care of them. Gave them structure, purpose, permission to finally be themselves.

  Steve was *happy.*

  And Hansel was still here. Still in this town. Probably still going to that same chapel. Still praying to the Goddess for strength.

  *What would he think if he knew?*

  Steve imagined Hansel's reaction if he found out the truth. That Steve was openly gay now. That he'd left town and built a whole life around the thing he'd condemned Hansel for wanting.

  That he was in a Dom/sub retionship. That he called another man "Sir" and knelt for him and found more peace in submission than he'd ever found in prayer. That he shared that man with his brothers and didn't care who knew it.

  Steve packed up his camera gear, his mind still miles away. He should go back to the hotel. Edit today's shots. Pn tomorrow's locations.

  But all he could think about was Hansel's face. Then and now.

  *Maybe he won't come by. Maybe that's better.*

  But even as Steve thought it, he knew it wasn't true.

  He *wanted* Hansel to come by. Wanted a chance to... what? Apologize? Expin? Confess everything?

  *You want absolution.*

  Steve headed back toward the inn as the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the familiar streets.