They said that they were packing a picnic, and it certainly looked like it. Jack wrapped lunch in a blanket and tucked secrets into the sides of a basket, while Avery bounced around expectantly. It was a nice day, and anyone would have gone for a picnic then. Monday morning, but the days of the weeks didn't matter any more, and warm outside the way that only South Africa could be in January. They waved goodbye when they pulled away from the garage, and no one noticed when Avery's hand on Jack's lap slipped.
They were going to church for the first time in ages, where, on this early morning Monday, no one would find them. There would be no cameras to avoid, no worshippers to mind. They were going in order to be alone, and they were going because--well, it had been Avery's idea. Jack had only made sure to pack enough lube.
They parked on the street that they'd found, and ambled over to the church that had been the real find. Hand in hand in hand in picnic basket, they approached it innocently enough. But once inside...
The thing was, it was too big for its maintainers to watch all the time. And after all, who would disturb prayers if they didn't hear any alarming noises?
Not that either boy intended to keep quiet.
It was so quiet inside that at first they were hushed, their hands separating and their shoulders suddenly hunching, mutual guilt felt at being there when they'd ditched so many times before, and Avery more than Jack. But that guilt had been taught, and the only thing they really felt took over soon enough. Avery kissed Jack and slid into a pew.
They spread the blanket out quickly, not because they needed it, but to muffle the thumps that the hollowed benches would make. They were alone, and the ceiling was too far above them to even feel inside, but the echo of Jack's shoe when he tossed it down reminded them of exactly where they were. Avery's shoes were set down more quietly, and they stripped in an unattached manner, separately removing everything until they turned to face one another, sitting awkwardly side by side.
Avery giggled suddenly, the noise in that place made Jack smile. "How are we going to do this?" he asked, uncaring in nudity. Jack watched him sedately, eyes resting on a spot that Avery couldn't name, but shrugged back.
"Maybe we should find the confession--" Avery laughter cut him off. "No?"
"I'm sorry, I just--ooooh I have a confession, I've been naughty..." Jack was set to laughing at Avery's breathy voice, and when they stopped, the tension had dropped away, allowing cocks to rise.
"We're going to hell," Jack murmured, reaching past Avery on his hands and knees for the lube. Avery slid his hands down Jack's back and gave his arse a good squeeze.
"There is no hell."
"Doesn't look like it," Jack admitted, grinning at a place on Avery that Avery certainly could name, and that part of him responded. Jack uncapped the lube and sat back against an arm of the pew, one knee hitched up and the other leg spread until his heel touched the floor. He was giving Avery a very good look, and Avery couldn't see anything bad here, either. Especially not when Jack began to prepare himself.
"Jack?" Avery asked, a little breathless. They couldn't actually fuck here! They'd talked about blowjobs, mouths hands and hips, but the lube had only been a precaution. They'd broken enough having sex. Avery didn't want to explain his way out of paying for a church bench. But Jack didn't stop, his fingers didn't stop, and then he was fucking himself with his fingers, sitting up and back so that Avery could see.
Jack's eyes slit open when he'd worked three fingers inside himself, and Avery let his wings slip out in response. It was the way that he felt. So defiant and they were fucking in a church, two boys and one of them the only angel that the building had ever seen. Jack grinned at him and removed his fingers, kept them slickly together and twisted then up around his cock, down around his foreskin, crooked them forward at Avery.
Wings away, Avery sat in Jack's lap. Jack scooted forward, sat normally, and pushed Avery's neck a little until they were bent as if in prayer, but it wasn't prayer when Jack's hair tickled along Avery's spine and his hand was under Avery, pushing him up and pulling him back until he was in. Jack bent over Avery and spread fingers over his sensitive back, bending Avery in half until his cock was against his stomach and even chest, and until Jack's thrusts could only be shallow, and when Avery sat back more Jack's nails dug into his shoulder blades so that he was coming, and then Jack was coming inside of him and they couldn't muffle every noise but neither of them cared.
When their breathing calmed enough that it was no longer amplified, Avery stood up and leaned over, fishing a hand towel out of the basket while Jack steadied him (apparently) with a hand on his arse. Avery cleaned up the best he could, but Jack only watched him.
"What?"
"Love you."
"You too. Jack?"
"Mm?"
"Are you getting dressed?"
Silence. Then Jack shook his head.
When they left the church, blanket wrapped around them both, it looked less empty, but Jack assumed that he was the only one to see it. They drove to the beach next, and parked next to the sand, piling up in the back seat, naked and blanketed, to eat their picnic. Their voices no longer carried, but when Avery wiped Jack's mouth and then straddled him once more, rocking several times before they could float, it felt more sacred than the church. And this time they didn't separate for a long, long time.