Fic : Sodding Celibate As It Is - QAF UK, Priest!AU, (2/2)
Whole thing is here.
Walk in with the shopping, Vince puts the bags down and starts putting the fridge-bound items away. He looks up to see Stuart leaning against the table, eyebrow raised. "If it's that interesting, you could help."
"I hear and obey." Stuart says, heading for the bag with fruit in it.
Vince mutters "Twat." and gets on with his task. "Bugger. Could've sworn I had no yoghurt left, now I've got six."
"Use two tonight. Do a face mask or something."
"Funny, Stuart."
Gets onto the canned goods, which is apparently a two-person job. At least it goes quicker that way. Vince closes the cupboard door. "Right, that's that done, did you fancy a cuppa?" He asks, turning to find Stuart staring at him. "That grin bodes, it does."
"Yep." Stuart says cheerfully, moving in front of him so Vince is backed into the counter. "Definitely bodes." He settles his hands on Vince's hips and leans in for a snog. This one's a long one, and Vince relaxes into it.
As Stuart draws back, Vince chuckles. "Got to stop meeting like this."
"Nah. It's fun, this is." Stuart grins, pressing up against Vince this time. After a few seconds, Vince pulls back, having felt something.
"You're bloody hard, you are." He pokes Stuart in the chest, accusingly. "Who're you thinking of?"
Stuart's mouth quirks to one side in a half-grin, though his eyes are serious. "Just you, Vince." He shifts one of his hands from Vince's hip to loop around the middle of Vince's back and pull him in for another kiss.
After a few seconds, Vince's panic mode sets in and he pulls back and shoves Stuart away. "I can't - oh, shite, I - I've got some work to do on the rotas, can't be hanging around like this."
"The rotas?" Stuart asks in disbelief, as Vince backs out of the kitchen and flees to another room, then sighs. "Vince, you twat." Then a self-depreciating grin, rare on the Jones visage. "Suppose that covers me too."
Hazel comes round for a natter later. Instantly, she clocks something's wrong. Probably helps that her son is staring at his mug of tea and making sighing noises. "All right, me lad, what's up?"
"Stuart fancies me. At least a bit."
Hazel raises her eyebrow. She has to have raised the blindest bat in Christendom. "There's a turn-up for the books. What'd he do, kiss you?"
"Hmm? Oh, no, he's taken to snogging me on occasion for the past few months. Friendly-like."
Hazel sighs. "I raised an idiot, I did. Vince, a peck on the cheek is friendly. Snogging is not friendly, at least not when he keeps doing it." She pulls up a chair. "So what happened?"
"Well, we were putting the groceries away, then he backed me into the cupboards for a laugh to trap me there, then snogged me."
"And? Got to be more than that."
"He was hard. He wasn't hard when we walked in, I can tell you that."
"Vince, that cock-of-the-walk having a hard-on is hardly news. Probably caught his reflection in the window or something."
"Mum, he's never hard over me that I noticed before. He went and admitted it was because of me."
"Well, there's only one solution, you'll have to make an honest man out of him."
"Mum!"
"You could always kill 'im. It'd solve a fair few problems right then and there."
"I'm not killing Stuart. Well, not at the moment, anyway. What do I do?"
"Best advice at the moment? Repress like the blazes unless he goes down on one knee and offers you a ring. Don't mistake a blowjob for a ring, no matter what your cock tells you." Hazel pauses. "How long is it since Stuart's had a shag?"
"Dunno, I don't ask him. Longest I've ever known him to go without was a month - you know, when we decided he must've been ill - and that I got from you and Alex."
"Well, from what I've heard, it's been a lot less than it used to be. Maybe he's getting old."
"Mum, he's 26. You don't get sudden libido reduction just because you passed 25."
"What would you know, you never use yours." Hazel says, smirking as her son flushes.
----
The church is relatively quiet, it being lunchtime, and Vince is sitting in the confession booth. Likelihood of being disturbed is minimal, which is why he sits in it when he wants a quiet moment. He's quite sure that most of his congregation is unlikely to feel guilty about much unless it's serious, like being caught supporting Arsenal.
Someone enters the other side, though. He cocks an ear for whatever they're about to say.
However, an all-too-familiar voice starts up. "Bless me, father, for I have sinned. It's been... oh, I don't know. A millennia since my last confession. Apparently I'm a bastard."
Vince marks off something on his pad, sighing. "Stuart, piss off and stop clogging up my booth. I'm trying to figure out my diary."
"What for?" Stuart asks, sliding back the grille and peering into Vince's side.
"Need to get the plumber round. Heating in the vestry's gone wonky."
"All the little Sunday school brats getting frostbite. My heart bleeds, it really does." Stuart says. "Anyway, there's this new sci-fi film out, thought you'd want to go see it tonight."
"What time?"
"Six-thirty. I'll pick you up, we see it, then get a takeaway."
"Sounds good. Indian?"
Film's not bad. Funny, decent action scenes. When they get back, Stuart puts on Galaxy Quest as Vince sorts out the plates for the curries and rice.
Vince tries not to laugh rice through his nose at Tim Allen's Kirk impersonation. Fortunately he succeeds, as rice in the nose is really painful. They're part way into the second attack when he gets up, thirsty. "Going to get a beer. You want one?"
"Yeah, do nicely." Stuart says distractedly, watching Sam Rockwell howl about this being the episode where he dies.
Vince is rooting in the draw for the bottle opener when he feels Stuart's arms encircle him and a nibble on his neck. "Gerroff. You absolutely sure you weren't a vampire in a previous life?"
"Sure. Not much of a life, is it? Allergies, sunlight, the list goes on. Permanent blood breath, for starters." Stuart says, tilting his head and kissing Vince's jawline.
Stuart pulls him back from the draw. "Stuart, I'm trying to find the bottle opener for the beer." Vince sighs.
"Sod the beer, Vince." Stuart says, turning him round and pulling him into a kiss, one arm firmly wrapped around Vince's back, the other hand on his jaw to keep him steady in place. Vince relaxes, responding but still a bit wary after last time. Stuart fancying him - even just a bit - still makes him want to run screaming on occasion. Preferably in the opposite direction, but the running and the screaming is the
important bit. He was used to unrequited, one-sided lust and love. The new development's just a bit scary and he hasn't got used to it.
Vince moves his hands to sit round Stuart's waist, letting himself sink into the enjoyment of it. Eventually draw back. Stuart grins. "Do I want to know?" Vince asks.
"Nope." Stuart says, ruffling Vince's hair before pulling him in again. Stuart currently tastes mostly of korma, which for some reason's very comforting. The kiss deepens a bit, tongues getting more involved and Stuart's hold on him getting a bit tighter, fingers threading through Vince's hair.
A few more minutes, a few more kisses, during which they manage to stumble out of the kitchen area. Vince isn't quite sure how they did that without banging into anything. They're not currently attached at the mouth - Stuart's currently nuzzling his ear - when Vince frowns.
"Stuart?"
"Mmm?"
"Your hands are on my arse."
"You noticed." Stuart says dryly. "So?"
"Hands are not supposed to be on the arse."
"Far as I'm concerned they are. It's a nice arse."
"Still not supposed to plastered on there."
"Vince. Shut up, will you?" Stuart says, sigh evident, kissing him softly before removing his hands from Vince's arse, only to start tugging at Vince's t-shirt, pulling it up and before Vince can muster his voice to protest, it's off and over his head and chucked off in a direction Vince didn't see.
Vince blinks. "Um."
Stuart ignores that, tugging Vince back, mouthing his shoulder as he walks them backwards. Vince hazily registers they're heading in the direction of Stuart's bedroom. And that his hands are definitely buried somewhere underneath Stuart's shirt. At that point his hormones decide that his brain is officially getting in the way and needs to be sat on, hard.
It's one small step from there to pulling his hands round to Stuart's front and unbuttoning his shirt from the bottom up, running his hands over the revealed skin as he does so. Someone else's skin's a luxury he hasn't allowed himself in six years, near enough. Casual touches don't count. And Stuart's... well, it's featured in his fantasies since he was fourteen, so finally getting to touch it is setting off so many
sparks that he's glad he's shut his brain down for the night. Stuart's abs twitch as he runs his fingers over one spot, and he makes a note to re-visit it later, maybe with his tongue. For now there's just so much skin he's got sudden carte blanche to explore.
They're in the hallway by the time he's got Stuart's shirt fully open, still just exploring his skin, flicking his thumbs over Stuart's nipples to see Stuart shudder. Stuart stops him, catching him under his chin to point out "Shoes, Vince."
Vince blinks. "Oh. Yeah." He bends down, pulling at the laces and pulling them off with his socks. Not something he wants to deal with at a later point. Stuart removed his ages ago. When he's straightened, Stuart's grinning at him again. Vince decides that the grin is probably evil, so needs to be removed. Preferably by the Stuart method of shutting Vince up. He latches onto the sides of Stuart's face, holding him there to kiss him, lazily and open-mouthed, before continuing the walk to Stuart's bedroom they've been doing gradually, hands roaming without much purpose.
They're finally into the bedroom before Stuart even puts his hands anywhere near Vince's cock, and then it's a knuckle dragged up his hard-on, teasing more than anything. "Clothes off *now*." Vince states, too lust-fugged to make proper sentences.
Stuart grins again. "Wondered when that'd happen."
Vince rolls his eyes. "Tosser." From there it's a quick step and fumble of getting whatever remaining clothes off in short order, dumping them on the floor.
Stuart takes the moment to grab Vince, pushing him back into the wall, running his hands down Vince's hips before sinking to his knees and swallowing him whole. "Oh my god." Vince gasps, trying to wrap his head around the fact that Stuart's doing this, before his hormones very forcibly remind him that thinking is entirely counter-productive to what he's doing. Entirely. And fuck. Stuart's really a champion cocksucker, licking up his cock and cradling his balls before swallowing again, then doing something with his tongue that makes Vince's head thud back into the wall. The finger rubbing the space behind his balls and up across his arsehole's while Stuart hums is what really does him in, though, and with that he's coming his brains out, scrabbling at the wall with his fingers.
He comes to sitting on the carpet, having obviously slid down the wall, to see Stuart licking the last of his come from the corner of his mouth. Which really forces Vince to lean forward and kiss him, licking the taste of himself from the spaces of Stuart's mouth, carding his hands through the curls on Stuart's head. When he draws back, Stuart smirks. "You're right, you're dead good-looking, specially when you're coming your brains out."
"Only yourself to blame, Stuart." Vince replies, pulling them to their feet, and pulling Stuart towards the bed. "My turn."
"Yours? Fuck off." Stuart says, but he's not really complaining when Vince gets him to lie down before crawling on top of him and biting down his chest, taking awhile to pay attention to that spot he came across before, licking it in one broad sweep. Stuart shudders even better this time. And jerks off the bed when Vince swipes his tongue into his bellybutton, grabbing for Vince's shoulders and pulling him back up into another snog, fairly frantic this time. He's on the verge of rubbing himself off on Vince, but Vince pulls back, pulling Stuart's bedside draw open and producing the lube and condoms. "Didn't know you remembered what those bloody were." Stuart smirks, panting a bit.
"Don't think I could forget." Vince says, shifting to the side before lying down next to Stuart on his back. "You remember?"
Stuart smirks, running a hand up Vince's thigh to his chest, then his chin, before grabbing the lube and squirting some onto his fingers. "Pretty sure." He brushes his fingers across Vince's arsehole, grinning again when Vince jumps from the cold of it like the utter bastard he is. Then it's working his fingers in one after the other, before crooking his fingers to find Vince's prostate, grinning as Vince shudders and contracts around his fingers. "Fucking gorgeous you are like this." He murmurs, leaning forward to brush a kiss across Vince's forehead, then one across his lips. "Don't know why I fucking waited so long."
"Glutton for punishment." Vince croaks.
"Nah, couldn't be." Stuart replies, removing his fingers and tearing open the condom and putting it on, then lubing his cock up. He pushes Vince's legs a bit further apart, hoisting them over his thighs, then leaning forward and pushing in slowly, waiting with his forehead touching Vince's for Vince to adjust to his size, sweat dripping from him to Vince.
After a bit, Vince asks. "You going to start moving anytime soon?"
"Thought we could just wait it out here." Stuart says, shifting his hips before tangling his fingers in Vince's hair, biting and licking his throat as he starts up a rhythm, one hand coming down to grasp Vince's arse. Vince gasps, grabbing onto Stuart's hips and trying to match the movement, craning his head back as Stuart runs his teeth over his jugular. Also makes his whole body clench, and Stuart's been going long enough that it's only a couple more strokes before he's driven over the edge, grasping Vince's cock and pulling him off as he goes.
They both lie there for a bit, waiting for normal service to resume. When it does, Stuart mumbles something. Vince frowns and tries to see Stuart, but it's a bit difficult to see someone's face when its tucked into your shoulder. "What did you just say?"
Stuart pushes himself up to look at Vince, looming over him. "And that's just the start of what I'm going to do to you." He repeats. Vince swallows, not entirely sure he's going to survive it.
----
Vince emerges from a slightly confused dream of Captain Jack, dressed in the clothes of Peter Davison's doctor, being chased by Ace wielding her trusty baseball bat. He's got no idea what that one was about. Stuart would say it was Companion Envy. That reminds him. Stuart. He rolls over, squinting in the light coming through the window to see Stuart lying next to him, looking as fuckable as always, mouth bruised from a *lot* of kissing, fading marks from bites down his chest, and - at this point Vince lifts the sheet slightly to confirm - bruises on his hips. Not put there by Vince's hands. Definitely not.
He puts his hand over his eyes and groans. "Oh, fuck. I'm so fucked."
Stuart takes that as an opportunity to wake up and smirk at him, hand straying across to palm Vince's stomach. "Sounds about right."
Vince scowls. "Not funny, Stuart. I'm - oh, god, I'm so fucked."
Stuart just gives him another smirk, then leans across and snogs him, the hand on his stomach straying down to tease the spot on his hipbone that's really, really sensitive. Vince's treacherous memory supplies the fact that Stuart spent a while licking and nibbling there last night, taking a perverse pleasure in watching Vince squirm and cry out. Vince jerks, then pushes Stuart off him.
Stuart raises an eyebrow. "What is with you, Vince?"
"I'm - I can't do this, I shouldn't've done this, I've got to go!" Vince yelps, scrambling out of bed and grabbing for his boxers. His trousers are at least near them, and he remembers his shirt's somewhere in the living room.
Stuart sits up enough that he's resting on his elbows, looking not at all sorry. "You did, and I didn't hear any complaints last night."
"Last night I was insane! You seduced me! Priest! Supposed to be celibate! Not supposed to be fucking my best mate!" He manages to get his other leg into his trousers, pulling them up and fumbling with the buttons. "What did you do it for, another notch on the bed post?"
Stuart gives him a look that's straight out of the Arctic. Penguins and polar bears will be arriving soon to take up residence. "Yeah, felt like shagging my best mate for the fun of it, Vince. That's me." He sits up more, resting his arms on his drawn-up knees. "Of course I fucking well planned it, Vince, what do you think all the kissing's been about for the last several months? Now stop bloody pissing about and get back in here."
Vince blinks, having finally wrestled his belt into submission. "You want me back in there?"
"What do you think, you twat?"
"I thought you'd just be chucking me out like you do with everyone else." Vince says, a bit lost.
Stuart sighs. "Vince, I want you in here for a long time, okay? Now are you getting back in this bed or not?"
"I - um - I -" For a second Vince wavers, really, really tempted by the vision Stuart's presenting. Then he shakes himself. "I - I've got to go." With that he turns and exits, grabbing his shoes from the hall.
He's pulling on his shirt, which was chucked over the sofa, and has one shoe on, when Stuart clears his throat. He's got his robe on and is leaning against the doorframe, looking supremely pissed off. "You forgot your watch. Can't wait to get out of here, I see."
Vince swallows. Not least because a pissed-off Stuart is a very shaggable Stuart. There's the death rays to contend with too, and it's not for the first time that his brain points out that Stuart Alan Jones would make a really good evil overlord if he put his mind to it. "I - um - thanks for the watch." He stammers, taking it from Stuart's hand. "I've got to go, Stuart, I've got prayers to do."
Another glare, then shutting down to the patented blank look. "Priesthood that fulfilling, is it? Get back to me when you've made up your mind about what you want, Vince." It sounds horribly like an ultimatum. With that, he lifts his hand, brushing his hair back, light glinting off his bracelet, then stalks back to bed.
Vince swallows again, looking down at his matching one, then finishes putting his shoes on and practically runs out the door and into Canal Street, grabbing the first taxi he sees back home.
"What did you do, mate? You look wrecked." The cab driver comments. Since Vince has his head in his hands, it's not far off.
"Slept with my best mate."
The cabbie does that backwards whistle familiar to all who've had the plumber in, which automatically adds another hundred quid to the original quote. "Ouch. Drunk or what?"
"Sober."
"Oh, you're fucking screwed. No advice there."
----
Hazel glares at the scene in her kitchen. Her little bleeder of a son is repeating the same action he's been doing for the past month. Coming over, making himself a cuppa, sitting at the table, then poking it dolefully and trying to compete for sad sack of the year.
Time for a kick up the arse, my girl. Hazel walks over to Vince, firmly removes the tea from his hand, then jerks the chair away from the table. "Right, you, out."
"What?" Vince asks in surprise, jolted out of his fug.
"You've been cluttering up my kitchen like a wet weekend for a month. Now get off your arse, make a bloody decision about the mess you're in, but most of all, just move it."
"But Mum, I -"
Hazel points imperiously at the door. "Out."
Vince blinks, still in shock, and slopes out, confused as hell.
He eventually ends up at Stuart's door. Stuart opens it, crossing his arms. "What do you want?" He asks tersely.
Vince swallows, then says desperately "I don't fucking know, I'm so fucked, and I miss you. Can I come in?"
Stuart steps back, grudgingly. "Get the fuck in, Vince. You're making a scene on my doorstep."
"Since when do you care about making a scene?" Vince replies automatically, as he trudges past, though without his customary spark. His heart's not in it.
Once he's in, Stuart closes the door, casting a professional eye over Vince. "Hazel kick you upstairs?"
"Kicked me out of the kitchen. Didn't give me a direction." Vince says distractedly.
"You're still here, though."
"Feet do this automatically." Vince says, a bit ruefully. Still, at least it's a reaction.
"Your feet have taste." Stuart says, heading towards the kitchen for a drink. "You want one?"
"Just water, please." Vince says, wandering over to the dvd collection and running a finger down them without any real interest. He pauses when he comes across the second Third Doctor dvd. He'd wondered where that had got to.
He's still looking when Stuart dangles the glass in front of his face. "You know my dvds inside out, Vince. Take the water, will you?"
"You might've bought some new ones." Vince replies, before straightening up and taking the glass, sipping from it, then turning the glass round.
Stuart keeps his gaze on Vince's face as he sips his own drink. "So what're you here for, Vince?"
"I told you, Hazel kicked me out, I wasn't really thinking -"
"It's been a fucking month, Vince. Even you've got to have made a decision. What's it going to be, decided to pack it all in and join a monastery with the other pillocks who don't want to face the real world?"
"God, no." Vince says with more than a hint of revulsion. "Me? In a monastery? For starters, I'd be crap at silence, and I'd keep getting done by the Abbot for - oh, I dunno, something. And I do so make decisions."
"So tell me what you decided. What've you been doing with yourself, then?"
"Mostly moping, brooding and running from thinking." Vince admits, taking another drink of water. "I'm crap at stuff like this."
"Like what, Vince?" Stuart asks softly, moving forward, all predator, eyes glinting. He gets so close they're touching along certain parts. "Like this?" Stuart purrs, stopping his advance, then bringing his drink up for a mouthful, putting the glass down and staring at Vince again.
Vince swallows. "Um, sort of."
Stuart tuts. "Sort of, Vince?" He leans forward, cupping a hand around Vince's neck and bringing him in for the kill. "I don't fucking do 'sort of'." Kisses Vince.
Vince clutches at the glass he's still holding, feeling incredibly bereft and rudderless - he's responding, all right, but it's not exactly a decision. Sort of like that night he spent trying not to think about for the past month. Stuart pulls out of the kiss, smirking. "Um, can I put this glass down?" Vince asks. "It's in serious danger of getting dropped, it is."
Stuart watches him with a fond 'what a twat' look on his face as Vince puts the glass down. Once he's straightened up, Stuart grabs him by the hips. "Vince, you're a twat."
"So you keep telling me." Vince grins.
"Still, you're my twat."
"Means you're stuck with me." Vince says. "Only, I'm not giving it up if you're only going to dump me sharpish because then I'd look really stupid, and I don't think my congregation would take me back if they think I'll just dump them for the next cute tosser who comes along. Plus I've no idea what I'd do for a job, I was only working at that shop before and I was twenty then -"
Stuart sighs. "Vince. Vince!"
"What?" Vince says, halted mid-flow.
Stuart snogs him again to forestall more gabbling. "Done now?"
"Dunno." Vince takes another breath as it sinks in. "Oh. My. God. I'm giving up being a priest. I'm actually - this so isn't happening."
"Yes it fucking well is." Stuart confirms.
"But there's Joe Elliot's daughter's wedding on Saturday, and they wanted me officiating since I baptised Gwennie's son last year, she wanted to wait until she was slim again before getting into the wedding dress, and I've a christening on Friday, and -"
Stuart groans. "Fucking hell. Do this week's stuff and then give it up, all right? You aren't wearing the dog collar past Sunday."
"I'm not?" Vince blinks.
"I'm not shagging you with a guilt complex."
"Never stopped you shagging anyone before." Vince says, eyebrow raised.
"They didn't have my assistant's phone number and a key to my sodding flat. Or Hazel."
Vince grins. "They ought to list Hazel in the weapons dossier."
"Catholic Church does, I know that. Now fucking well phone your diocese and give them the news."
Vince detaches himself and walks over to the phone, dialling nervously as Stuart hugs him from behind. "This is insane, this is."
"Insane is me waiting a sodding month for you to come to your senses." Stuart says, nipping his earlobe as the phone does its first ring. "Just get it over with."
---
Stuart's woken by the phone ringing. He reaches down to his jeans - which're fortunately within easy reach on the floor - and pulls out his mobile. Screen says Hazel. "What do you want?" He asks, flicking it open and putting it to his ear.
"Wondered if you'd seen my son. His mobile's not on, and last I saw I'd kicked him out."
Vince shifts from his position, which is half covering Stuart on the sofa, throw over the both of them. Stuart glances down at Vince's face. "Don't worry your head, he's here."
"Who is that?" Vince asks, muzzily.
"Hazel."
"Oh my god, it's -"
"He's a bit indisposed at the moment. Out of a job, you know what that does to some people."
"Put him on the phone." Hazel says. No matter how Stuart acts, there are some tones of voice he's automatically programmed to obey.
Stuart hands the phone over. "Um, hi, Mum."
"Don't give me that. Where are you? Take it you've made up with Stuart. What's he talking about now?"
"I, er, quit. Starting Monday. Cos there's a wedding I promised I'd do on Saturday and it's a bit difficult to get someone in on short notice for Sunday."
Hazel sighs. "Put Stuart on again, son, my head hurts." Stuart gets the phone back. "Sometimes I can't believe I raised that boy."
"Trust me, he's all yours, Hazel." Stuart says, running his other hand over Vince's hair. Vince is eyeing the phone in dread.
"So have I got this right? You, Stuart Alan Jones, King of Canal Street, are going to make an honest man out of my admittedly loony son? Because if I find out you did it for a laugh and hang him out to dry I'll cut your bloody balls off."
"Don't know about honest." Stuart replies.
"Though whatever you do, don't let him go back to the bloody church, it's downright embarrassing."
"I'll be sure to tell him that. Bye, Hazel." Stuart says, closing the phone and dropping it back on his jeans.
----
First time most people notice the change is when Vince snogs Stuart at Poptastic. Anyone who didn't see at first gets alerted when Alexander shrieks. "Oh my god, what are you two doing?"
Stuart shoots him an annoyed glance. "I'm trying to snog him and then I'm going to shag him senseless when we get home. Now fuck off."
Alexander doesn't quit staring. "You're joking." Stuart's only response this time is to plaster himself to Vince and start dancing, both grinning from ear to ear.
Morning. Alex turns up on Stuart's doorstep. Stuart opens the door, yawning. "What do you want?"
"What were you doing last night?"
"What business is it of yours?"
In the background, Vince wanders into view. Just wearing boxers and looking very well fucked. Alex squints at the time on his mobile. Ten thirty. "Shouldn't you be at church for that whatever-it-is class you do?"
"Nope." Vince yawns. "Quit."
"When?"
"Last week. Sunday was my last day."
"Why didn't you tell us?"
"Told Hazel. Normally that means it's round Manchester in two minutes."
"Dare I ask why or is it completely bloody obvious?"
"Completely bloody obvious." Stuart says. "Now bugger off, will you?"
"This is a miracle, this is. Stuart Alan Jones, settled down..."
"Not seducing a man of the cloth?" Vince asks.
Alex snorts. "He can seduce anything, well-known fact. You're the one who achieved the miracle, sweetheart."
Stuart pushes him out of the door, exasperated. "Christ, he's got a big mouth." Glances at Vince, appreciating the view. "Can't believe Hazel didn't tell anyone."
Vince shrugs. "She's Hazel. Her ways surpasseth all understanding." He bites his lip, nervously. "Worst part of this? I still don't know what I'm going to do for a job."
END