Callum: A M/M Romance Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Callum

  Copyright

  Hey all you cool cats and kittens…

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Callum

  The Ryan Boys

  Book One

  By Dakota Rebel

  Supernova Indie Publishing Services, LLC

  www.supernovaindie.com

  Powered by Your Imagination

  Callum

  by

  Dakota Rebel

  It’s not like being a priest was ever my mission in life. I’d had one come to Jesus moment, and maybe I took it a little too far.

  Now, I’m questioning everything I thought I knew about myself. And Declan McNair is not helping in the slightest.

  He is absolutely worth giving up everything for, I just don’t know if I have the guts to actually walk away from everyone but him.

  Copyright

  © 2020, Dakota Rebel

  Callum

  Published by: Supernova Indie Publishing Services, LLC

  Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

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  Chapter One

  ~ Callum Ryan ~

  “Sorry Daddy, I’ve been a bad, bad boy. It’s been three days since my last confession.”

  Sweet Jesus, give me strength.

  “I think you mean, forgive me father for I have sinned,” I corrected him, biting back a sigh.

  “I had the dream again, Father. The one about you.”

  “Mr. McNair, the confessional is supposed to be anonymous,” I reminded him, for the fifth time in three weeks.

  “I know,” Declan said, his tone resigned. “But, you know it’s me anyway. And it’s not like I can’t tell from the accent that it’s you. I don’t see why we can’t just talk face to face. This booth is claustrophobic, and I can’t help wondering if you look disgusted every time I talk about this.”

  “I am not here to judge you, Mr. McNair. I’m here to listen and assist you in absolution.” And besides, I couldn’t look at him when he talked to me about his dreams. My reaction to his confessions was beyond inappropriate. I’d be kicked out of the program if anyone found out.

  “Yeah, you always say that.” He blew out a sigh. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to manage my dreams. Is it really a sin if I can’t control it?”

  “That’s not for me to say,” I told him. “Are these impure thoughts truly only in your dreams?”

  His silence told me more than I’d actually wanted to know. My cock started to twitch, and I closed my eyes, trying to will my body not to react.

  “Father,” he whispered. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t think this is something that a few Hail Marys is going to fix.”

  I heard him turn in his seat, knew he was facing the partition, knew he was trying to see my face. Resolutely I faced forward, not wanting to risk meeting his gaze through the lattice separating us.

  “Declan, what is it you’d like me to say to you? I don’t know how to help you walk through this.”

  “I know. But it’s getting worse. When it first started, they were just the dreams. And I woke up properly horrified. But now…I think about you all the time, Father. And I think--“

  Don’t say it. Please, God, don’t say it.

  “I think you think about me, too.”

  How could I not? Even priests have their limits. Listening to him confess his sins to me, describe in detail the sexual thoughts he had about me…I’m only so strong.

  When it first started, I’d thought for sure he’d been playing an elaborate prank on me. But when Declan had broken down, sobbing in the booth, his broad shoulders shaking so hard I could feel the wood vibrate around us, I knew that he really was wrestling with demons I was in no way equipped to deal with.

  Declan was a junior, but new to St. Catherine’s University. He had come to play hockey on a full ride scholarship after his last college kicked him out for fighting. His twin brother, Ben, had transferred with him and the entire staff had been pleased to welcome them.

  Declan was a good kid, smart and popular with the other students on campus. He attended mass every Wednesday and Sunday. And as far as I knew, there had been no incidents with him thus far.

  “Can I tell you about the dream?” Declan asked softly.

  “I don’t need to hear the details to provide absolution, Declan.” I knew he needed to talk about it. Knew that it would be cathartic to let him unload the burden of details from his mind. But I couldn’t. It wasn’t appropriate the way my body reacted to him. I needed my own absolution, but there wasn’t a priest within fifty miles I would trust to hear my own sins. They were too many, and too damning to say out loud.

  “Okay,” he whispered.

  “Declan—"

  “No, it’s cool. I get it. You’re disgusted with me. You should be. I am.”

  I was disgusted with myself. I’d taken a vow, an oath, to help anyone with any problems they brought to me. That vow was given willingly. I chose this path for myself. And I just had to deal with the fact that there may be things, or young, handsome men, that occasionally made me rethink the decision. But I had made a promise to God and I would stand by it.

  “I am not disgusted with you,” I assured him. “If it will help, of course I’ll listen. I apologize.”

  “You don’t have to apologize to me,” he said quickly. “This must be difficult for you to hear. I mean, I’m sure you hear all kinds of fucked up stuff in here. But this may be beyond what even a priest has had to deal with before.”

  “The language is not necessary,” I scolded him. “And while I have never helped with a situation exactly like yours, I do deal with young men quite often. Your age, your hormones, your stage in life and your surroundings are not unique. Biology is a funny thing, and it can make a man think all kinds of things they normally would not.”

  It was true I’d heard many a young man share lurid details of getting girls to do all manner of acts in the backseats of vehicles, but this situation was unlike any of that. And due to privacy, there wasn’t anyone I could go to for advice on how to help him. All I could do was listen. So, I did.

  “So, I can tell you?”

  “You may,” I agreed reluctantly.

  “I’ve tried what you told me. Clearing my mind before I go to sleep. Meditating and white noise…all of it. I swear. But more nights than not, I end up having these dreams. Last night…”

  He stopped talking and I wasn’t about to press him to continue. If he wanted to he could, but I couldn’t lie and sa
y I was looking forward to hearing it.

  “We were in the showers after practice,” he said finally. “The rest of the team was done, and it was just me and you. I think Coach had kept me after or something. I have no idea why you were there.

  “Anyway, so we’re in the showers and just scrubbing up, you know? I glance over at you, and I see you watching me, your cock hard and your hand caressing it. Not washing it, definitely jacking it.”

  I shifted in my seat, trying not to make noise, but my actual erection had risen so hard and so fast it was painfully pressing against the zipper of my pants. I said my own Our Father in my head, begging for forgiveness as Declan continued.

  “I just watched you for a minute, my eyes locked on your hand, watching you touch yourself. When I finally looked up you smiled at me and said, ‘you’re not going to leave me like this, are you?’” Declan sighed again. “And I couldn’t. I walked over to you and fell to my knees on the tile. The filthy, gym shower floor, and I didn’t even care. I knocked your hand away and sucked you into my mouth. I’ve never even touched another guy before, but in my dream I took you all the way in. It was so real, I could feel the pain of you swelling in my throat, I could taste your flavor on my tongue. You gripped my hair and started shoving yourself into me, choking me with your cock until you pulled out and sprayed cum all over my face.” Declan’s voice was thick with tears. “And when I woke up, I was sticky with my own release. I came in my sleep, Father.”

  I was biting my lip to keep from moaning, clenching my fists to avoid touching myself, and this poor kid was crying in shame. What a monster. I wasn’t worthy of the cloth. I never had been, but now I was sure of it. I was going to have to leave the school, leave the priesthood. There was nothing else to be done. I didn’t deserve the faith and love these kids gave me.

  “Do you feel better?” I asked him, praying my voice sounded calm.

  “No,” he whispered. “I’m hard as a rock right now. I think, I think I love you.”

  “You’re right, Declan. Our Fathers and Hail Marys aren’t going to fix this. You may need to talk to someone more qualified for this sort of thing. And I don’t think it’s helping you at all for me to be the one you’re confessing to.”

  I couldn’t stand it. There was no way I was going to be able to sit through one more vivid description of his dreams of me.

  “You don’t love me,” I continued. “You don’t even know me. I hate to play the age card here, but you’re young and you’re confused. I’m an authority figure and you’re far from home. It’s tough to be in a new place. To make new friends. Your subconscious has latched on to me as someone who cares about you. Which, of course, I certainly do. But Declan, you’re confused.”

  “I’m not,” Declan said, but his tone was not the indignant one I’d expected. In fact, he sounded surer in that statement than I’d ever heard him before. “I’m not crying because I want the dreams to stop. I’m falling in love with you, Callum. And it’s killing me that I can’t actually be with you.”

  Fuck.

  “Father Ryan,” I corrected him. “Declan, I think you should go. I need to think about the best way to help you. For tonight, say your prayers, ask God for his forgiveness, and do your best to…I don’t even know…think clean thoughts.”

  Declan laughed. “Thanks, Padre. Can I come back tomorrow?”

  “Whenever you wish,” I told him.

  Get out. Get out. Get out.

  The confessional door opened then closed. I listened for his footsteps to fall away before flicking the confessional locks and unzipping my pants.

  I took my cock in my hand and with two firm pulls was coming into my palm, my teeth biting so hard into my lower lip I tasted coppery blood.

  “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned,” I whispered through my tears.

  Chapter Two

  ~ Declan McNair ~

  So, I was definitely going to Hell. I mean, I’m not even Catholic, in fact, I only came to St. Catherine’s College because they were the only ones who would take me in after the incident at my last school. They offered me a hockey scholarship to transfer and agreed to let my twin brother bring all of his credits with him as well. But once I saw the hot as fuck priest, I decided that mass was probably a sacrifice I could make twice a week.

  Then the dreams started. The ones about Father Ryan. And I started to seriously question whether or not I needed to beg for forgiveness. At first, it was just dreams. I tried to sort of ignore them. But then the thoughts started creeping into everyday life.

  I began to look for ways I could bump into him around campus. Rearranged my schedule to put myself in his path as much as possible. In fact, my entire day revolved around how to get him to notice me.

  Considering the amount of stalking and fantasizing I was doing of a priest, I’m amazed God hadn’t just smited me down…smote…smoted? I’d have to ask Callum about the proper phrasing. It would give me another excuse to talk to him. Not that I needed anything more than what was already going on.

  It must be difficult to be a priest, especially in a college. Listening to young dudes confessing all kinds of lurid stuff. I mean, I know priests are celibate, but they still have hormones.

  I lay back on my bed staring up at the ceiling, thinking about him. Did he ever sit in that booth and get hard listening to boys describe getting to first base with a girl? Had he ever gotten to first base?

  My cock twitched in interest at the direction my thoughts were going. I slid my hand down and gently started to massage myself to full hardness as I thought about Callum Ryan. Was he disgusted with me? He didn’t seem like he was, but he’d dismissed me pretty quickly after I’d described my most recent dream to him.

  Had he gotten hard? Could that be why he wanted me out of there so bad? I unsnapped my jeans and reached into my boxers, gripping my erection as I started to picture Father Ryan jacking himself off in the confessional booth, thinking about me in the showers.

  Sometimes, when I talked to him, I could hear his breath hitch. Did that happen because he was shocked at my words? Or because it turned him on?

  I wanted him. I didn’t know for sure if he were gay or straight, but that wouldn’t necessarily affect the way I thought about him. I already couldn’t actually be with him, so his orientation didn’t change my own situation much.

  There were times, when we talked face to face, that I thought he might be interested in me, too. I’d never been with a man before, never been with anyone before, but I’d known from a young age that I was gay. And I knew that my interest in the handsome priest was not just a crush, was not fascination, wasn’t even unattainability.

  I loved him. I wanted him. Wanted to make a life with him. Sucking him off in a shower was just the tip of the iceberg of things I wanted to experience with Callum Ryan.

  My orgasm rushed over me, cum spurting up my chest onto my shirt as I cried out, unable to keep myself quiet. For a moment I lay there, my body quaking as my cock spasmed in my hand.

  “Dude, we have a bathroom,” Ben said, his tone amused.

  I sat up, staring at my twin brother standing by the door, leaning there with his arms crossed, a smirk on his lips.

  “Sorry,” I said, snapping my pants and pulling my shirt off. “I didn’t realize how late it was. I wasn’t expecting you back yet.”

  “I gathered. You always jerk off thinking about the priest?” he asked, pushing off the wall and going over to sit on his own bed.

  “What are you talking about?” How the hell could he know that?

  “You screamed out Callum when you came. I assume you were thinking about Father Ryan.”

  I hadn’t realized I’d actually screamed anything at all. Thank God my brother wasn’t the judgmental sort.

  I got up, grabbing fresh clothes before locking myself in the bathroom. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Jesus, I looked like shit. I wasn’t sleeping well, which was giving me pretty dark circles under my eyes. And I hadn’t even showered this mo
rning before I ran to confessional as soon as it opened, so I looked like a zombie.

  This was a fucking nightmare. I didn’t even know what I was hoping for, anymore. I really did believe I was falling for him, but he was a priest, he belonged to the church. And for all I knew he was a eunuch. Callum wasn’t going to confess his love for me, run off with me and live happily ever after. He wasn’t going to abandon his life, his church, his family for some idiot kid who didn’t know when enough was enough.

  All of this nonsense needed to stop.

  Tomorrow.

  Right after confession.

  Chapter Three

  ~Callum~

  “Forgive me father, for I have sinned.”

  “Mr. McNair,” I said, turning his last name into a growl. “You have to stop this.”

  “I’m sorry, I know. You’re right.” He sighed. “I don’t know what to do.”

  I put my elbows on my knees, resting my head in my hands as I counted to ten. Then twenty. Letting the silence stretch between us.

  “Let’s go for a walk,” I said finally. I got to my feet and exited the booth, standing there waiting for him to come out.

  It took a full minute before the door opened and my stalker exited. He looked nervous, but as I scrutinized him he managed to stand up straight, squaring his shoulders and looking at me, though not meeting my gaze.

  “Come on,” I said, motioning toward the church doors. “I’m not going to bite.”

  Because that definitely wasn’t allowed.

  He nodded then followed me outside. The sun was shining brightly and there were people milling about, enjoying the warm weather while it lasted. November in Michigan was always unpredictable. It might be sixty degrees today, but it could start snowing at any moment.

  We walked in silence for a while, Declan a few steps behind me as I led him away from the crowds. When we were finally away from everyone else, I stopped, turning to stare at him.

  “I don’t know how to help you,” I admitted, the defeat clear in my tone.