Author: Carol Anne Caiafa
Fandom: The Da Vinci Code
Rating: Soft R
Summary: Many lovers may be exciting, but Silas only truly longs for one…
Warnings: M/m sexual fantasies, implied sex of all kinds, teenage sex, objectification, religious imagery, pain and self-flagellation, angst
Disclaimer: Don’t own them, no profit, suing is futile!
Word Count: 463
A/N: Written for 50kinkyways, prompt #25, Orgy
When he was younger and living on the streets, in the days before prison, escape and salvation, Silas had been offered money from a stranger to participate in an orgy. It was to be a decadent party at a secret location, and there would be plenty of luscious food, champagne and other stimulants. The rich man had seen the albino teenager and been entranced by his pale skin and snow white hair. Silas had accepted the offer, as he was hungry and lonely.
It was perhaps the most erotic time of his life – and for once the young man did not feel like a ghost. Many hands and mouths caressed him. He thrust into the bodies of others and was taken in return. His body felt alive and tingling, and each woman or man who took him in their arms was lavish with their praise of his beauty.
But in the end, the whole experience had left him feeling uneasy. These temporary lovers regarded him as a novelty, admiring his skin as a sensual contrast to their own flesh, seeing nothing but the surface. It almost reminded him of those who looked through him on the street, who made a ghost of him. These rich, privileged people did not care about who he was inside, or about his soul. And after they had had their fun with him, he was callously cast out into the street again, sent back to his life of loneliness, struggle and starvation.
The life that Silas had now was far better than being on the streets. Thanks to Opus Dei, he had food and shelter, and thanks to Manuel Aringarosa, he was no longer a ghost – he had a name, faith in the Lord and hope for the future. There were deprivations to be endured in the name of that faith, but Silas willingly embraced what he had to suffer for God. Pain is good, he told himself daily – the words of the founder of Opus Dei. And celibacy was a blessed state, a path to holiness.
Memories of that orgiastic night sometimes returned to haunt him, however. Lashing himself with the Discipline and driving the barbs of his cilice into his thigh banished the sinful, carnal thoughts for a little while, but they always returned. And what was worse, Silas was no longer imagining being touched by the hands of many strangers, but by the hands of one man. He trembled with guilt, self-disgust and a desire he could not suppress as he wondered what it would be like to be caressed by Bishop Aringarosa, to feel the kisses of his beloved mentor on his lips.
All he could do was pray, and hope against hope that these beautiful but wicked feelings would not consume him utterly.