Title: To Thee I Confess My Sins...

Author: JaimeBlue

Author's Note: Now, on to business. I wrote this over the last couple of days (and finished it within the first hour of the new year). It's the first of what will be a 10-part series (maybe more, maybe less, depends on my mood) called "The Secret Confessions of Tim O'Neill".

I was inspired by a challenge on the Challenge Page #1 at Joxerotica (http://www.sockiipress.org/joxerotica). Here's the details, and the story to follow in the next post.

Email: russia_girl@yahoo.com

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Tim/Jonathan

Series/Sequel: 1st in my "The Secret Confessions of Tim O'Neill" Series

Disclaimer: The seaQuest and it's crew don't belong to me, but to Amblin Entertainment and NBC, and whoever else owns part of them. Father Duncan, however, is all mine :)

Summary: Father Duncan, the priest of St. Agnes' Church in Cape Quest, reminisces on his first encounter with his favourite parishioner -- Tim O'Neill.

Notes: This series was inspired by a very old challenge I read on the Joxerotica site. It said that Catholics could do pretty much anything they like as long as they went to confession to be forgiven, and wondered what kind of things Tim O'Neill could confess. As a card-carrying Catholic myself, the idea intrigued me. This is the result.

FYI: The following is necessary in understanding how the story is laid out. 5 stars (*****) separates the original time period from the priest's memories. 10 #'s (##########) separates the priest's memories from the events about which Tim confesses. 3 stars (***) are used to begin and end the story.



To Thee I Confess My Sins
by JaimeBlue


The aged priest stepped out onto the porch of his small home behind St. Agnes' Church in Cape Quest, picked up his morning newspaper, and returned to the warmth of his home and a cup of freshly-brewed coffee.

He settled onto his chair by the table, coffee in hand, as he laid the paper across the smooth wooden surface. He began reading the feature story as he took a sip of his drink and had to fight not to choke on the hot liquid. He blinked several times, wondering if the words before him were the truth or the work of the Devil.

It can't be true, he thought. Has God finally answered my prayers and returned the seaQuest?

The elderly man's eyes scanned the article until they rested on the two words he'd been most anxious to read -- Tim O'Neill. He took a moment first to pray for the souls of those poor men and women who did not return with the vessel, and secondly to thank God for the return of one of his most devout parishioners.

When the vessel had disappeared ten years ago, Father Duncan had prayed every night that Tim and his crewmates would be returned. He'd missed the young man that came to St. Agnes' every time his ship stopped in Cape Quest. Whenever he'd seen the man, he could always count on a friendly smile, a lovely conversation, and later on in the confession booth, many an indiscretion to report.

The life of a priest was a lonely one, with many a night spent in prayer and meditation. This young man, however, had provided him with many a night of curious fantasies.

He could still remember his first encounter with young Mr. O'Neill, almost 15 years ago...

*****

Father Duncan placed the last bible in the pew before him, then looked up at the sound of footsteps entering St. Agnes' Church. He quietly watched as a young man in a naval uniform made his way down the aisle, knelt in the front pew, and removed his glasses so that he could rub his eyes, as if to rid himself of a horrifying image.

The priest saw the man move from the kneeling bench to the seat behind him. He grew concerned when the man's body started shaking with barely contained grief and silently made his way to the other end of the pew in which the man sat.

"Pardon me, my son, but you appear to be upset. I am here should you wish to avail yourself of my council."

The man heaved a heavy sigh before he spoke. "Father, my life has turned itself completely over onto its head."

"I am listening, my child."

"I am the communications officer aboard a submarine in the UEO. The-the seaQuest."

"Ah. May I assume you were present when..."

"Yes, Father. I was witness to Captain Stark's arrest."

"My sympathies are with you, my child. It must not have been an easy sight to witness."

"It wasn't, Father. I often wonder if there was something I could have said or done..."

"There is no use in wondering what could have been, my son. You can only learn to deal with what has happened and move on with your life." Father Duncan's curiosity was aroused as the young man before him seemed to squirm as if his seat had all of a sudden become uncomfortable. "Have you spoken with any of your fellow crewmen about the incident?"

The man seemed to grow even more uncomfortable. "Yes, Father. I have, um, spoken with my Executive Officer."

"And what did you gain from speaking with him?"

"To tell the truth, Father, we spoke very little. He was very upset, for it was he that had been forced to confront Captain Stark. I-I wanted to help him, to let him know he did the right thing. I, we..." The man took a deep breath. "Father, I feel there is something I need to confess."

The older man nodded and rose from the pew, slowly making his way to the wooden booths along the one wall of the church. Father Duncan knew that the anonymity of the confessional wasn't necessary to confess one's sins, however he knew that it was easier for confessors to do so in the privacy of the booths. He settled onto his bench and slid the window aside, waiting for the man to begin his story.

"Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It has been over 6 months since my last confession."

"I am here to listen, my son."

"As I was saying, Father, after the incident on the seaQuest, I sought out my Executive Officer..."

##########

Tim O'Neill stood before the door he'd just knocked upon, half expecting there to be no answer. He didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed when it opened just wide enough for a brown eye to peek through.

"Commander Ford? It's me, Tim. I was, uh, just wondering if you'd like to talk."

The door opened fully and Tim took the opportunity to enter the Commander's quarters. He looked around at the room that was much as he'd expected it to be -- very neat and tidy.

"How are you doing, Lieutenant?"

Tim pushed his glasses further up onto his nose. "I'm fine, Commander, considering... Actually, I was wondering how you were doing."

"As fine as I can be. There is no need to worry about me, Lieutenant."

"Yes sir. I just thought that, maybe, you might want someone to talk to."

Jonathan Ford sat down on his bunk. "As I told you, I'm fine. It's just... This was the last thing I'd ever thought I'd have to do when I was made XO."

Tim gently sat upon the other end of the bunk. "It's a decision nobody ever thinks they'll have to make. However, you made the right choice, sir."

"I know I did. I just wish I hadn't had to." Ford rested his face in his cupped hands. Tim, not knowing what to do, simply laid a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Why? Why did this happen? And why didn't I do something to prevent it?"

"Sir, there's nothing you could have done, nothing any of us could have done."

Ford lifted his face from his hands, and brown eyes met brown eyes. Jonathan felt a shiver run up his spine and he leapt up from his bunk as if he'd been bitten. "I think it's time you left, Mr. O'Neill."

"But sir, why?"

"Please, just go. I'm... not in my right mind at the moment."

"Sir, with all due respect," Tim began as he lifted himself from the bunk and stalked towards Jonathan, "I don't think I should leave until I'm certain you're all right. Jonathan," the other man turned to face Tim at the use of his name, "I know I'm your crewmate and under your command, but I would also like to consider myself your friend. I'm here for you. That's what friends do."

A flicker of uncertainty crossed Jonathan's face. "My thoughts at the moment aren't exactly friendly right now, Tim."

Tim's brow furrowed in thought, uncertain of what his friend meant. However, he stood his ground. He was determined not to leave his friend while he felt he was still needed. "As I told you, I'm here for you. You don't have to go through this alone."

The two men simply stood there, looking at each other for several moments, until Jonathan suddenly grabbed the front of Tim's uniform and pulled their bodies close, claiming the other man's lips with his own.

Tim's body stiffened as his mind whirled with confusion. Jonathan's earlier statement suddenly became clear to him. But how? Why him? He was uncertain as to what to do, how to react. He'd kissed a few girls in his time, and though nothing much had come of it, he'd found it to be quite pleasant. He was somewhat amazed to find that kissing another man felt just as good. He felt his body begin to respond and relaxed against Jonathan.

Tim responded as Jonathan's lips moved against his. He shivered as he felt the older man's fingers frantically moving over the clasps of his uniform. His hands instinctively moved around Jonathan, feeling the muscles running along the other man's back. Jonathan's urgency was contagious, however, and soon Tim was working as well to pull away the clothes before him.

The two men only broke apart to pull each other's turtlenecks up over their heads, and soon they stood locked together, wearing nothing but their underwear. Jonathan maneuvered Tim over to the bunk and pushed the man onto the mattress. As Jonathan lowered himself over Tim, he removed the man's glasses, placing them on the bedside table.

Both men moaned as their erections pressed against each other. Jonathan began kissing down Tim's chest, finally pulling away the man's boxer shorts. Once Tim's cock was free, Jonathan took it into his mouth.

Tim moaned, lost in sensation. He ran his hand along the short-cut hair of his... lover? The logical part of his mind tried to push through to the surface, asking if what he was doing was right and if he was ready, but was swiftly turned back at the feeling of Jonathan's tongue running inside his foreskin. He looked down, entranced by the sight of those dark lips wrapped around his pale shaft.

Jonathan's eyes looked up and he smiled around the cock in his mouth as he saw the look of ecstacy on Tim's face. With one hand, he began fondling the balls that hung below his chin. He soon had Tim squirming on the bunk, and with his free hand, opened the drawer on the bedside table and retrieved a small plastic container.

With one newly slick finger, Jonathan pressed into Tim. He stopped, hearing the man's breathing grow more rapid and waiting for him to grow used to the invasion. Once Tim's breathing had slowed down a little, he moved his finger inside the other man, searching for the one little spot that would make the other man...

Tim's body practically leapt off the bunk as Jonathan's finger stroked inside him. Jonathan's mouth began anew, sucking strongly as his finger stroked Tim. Finally, the man writhing on the bed could take no more and came with a strangled scream into Jonathan's mouth.

Jonathan let the softened cock slip out of his mouth as he crept up to take Tim's lips again. His finger, however, remained inside the other man. He broke the kiss, removing his own shorts and maneuvering Tim onto his side so that he was facing the wall next to the bunk.

"How are you doing, Tim?" Jonathan asked, once again reaching for the plastic container.

"Amazing," he answered between slowed gasps.

"Good."

A second finger was pushed into a very relaxed Tim, and began moving in and out. A third finger soon joined them, moving and stretching the loosened muscles.

Tim made a questioning noise when the fingers inside him were removed. Jonathan kissed the back of Tim's neck, pressing himself against the man's back. He positioned his slickened cock at Tim's entrance and slowly began pressing into him. He paused as Tim gasped for air.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just give me a second." Jonathan waited until he felt Tim's hand reach back for his hip. "All right, I think I'm ready."

Jonathan continued pushing into Tim, paying close attention to the other man's reactions, until he was finally fully sheathed inside the other man. He wrapped his arm around Tim's waist for balance as he slowly began pulling back out, then pushing in again. The more Jonathan moved in and out of Tim, the easier it became, and soon he'd established an even rhythm. Once adjusted to the new sensations, Tim began pushing back in time to Jonathan's thrusts.

Jonathan's thrusts grew more frantic as his orgasm approached. Tim moved his hand from the other man's hip to join his other hand in gripping the mattress. Finally, with one last plunge, Jonathan's body tensed as he came inside Tim, hot and wet.

Tim realized for the first time that his face had grown wet. It was as if Jonathan's physical release had spurred his own emotional release, unburdening himself of all the feelings he'd held tightly in check. He felt the arm around his waist tighten as a wetness fell onto the back of his neck, and knew that the same was true for Jonathan.

Tim placed his hand over the one laying on his stomach and two sets of fingers entwined.

"Thank you," Jonathan whispered into Tim's back.

"That's what friends are for," Tim whispered back.

Jonathan stiffened up and pulled away from Tim, sitting on the edge of the bunk. "I-I'm sorry, Tim."

Tim slowly sat up and turned to look at Jonathan's back. "What for?"

"I should have had more control. I... This shouldn't have happened."

Tim's eyes shut tight, trying to force away any more tears that threatened to fall. "I... guess you're right."

Jonathan rose from the bunk and started for the head, but turned to face the bed when he'd reached the doorway, not quite looking at Tim. "This shouldn't have happened. This can't happen again. I hope you understand... I'm so sorry..."

"Yes, sir."

Tim watched as Jonathan moved into the head and shut the door behind him. He jumped off the bunk and rushed to dress in his rumpled clothing.

Hurrying out of the Commander's quarters, the pain that radiated from Tim's chest distracted him from the lingering ache in his backside.

##########

Father Duncan nodded as Tim finished his story.

"Father," Tim added, "I am so confused."

"My son, the two of you were both in search of comfort and found it momentarily with each other. That is nothing to be ashamed of."

"But Father, I-I'd always hoped to wait..."

"I understand, my child, but I am certain God will grant you forgiveness. However, you must also learn to forgive yourself — though three Hail Marys couldn't hurt."

Tim smiled behind the screen. "Yes, of course Father. But Father, is there any advice you can give me?"

"Of course, child. First, you must be careful to whom you give your affections. And second, do not be so hard on yourself. We are but human beings, and God knows that. As long as you do the best you can in life, then you will be blessed in Hie eyes."

Tim nodded, then rose from his seat to exit the booth. He stopped outside, waiting for the priest to join him.

"Thank you, Father," Tim said as he extended a hand to the older priest.

"It was my pleasure..."

"Tim. Tim O'Neill."

"It was a pleasure, Tim. I hope to see you again, my child."

Tim's hands found their way into his pants pockets as he once again took in the church, this time with new eyes. "I have no doubt that I will return, Father. Good day."

"Good day, my son," Father Duncan answered as he watched the man turn and exit St. Agnes' Church.

*****

Whenever Father Duncan was reminded of Tim O'Neill, he always thanked God for the many changes in the world since his father's time. Only twenty years ago, issues such as homosexuality were extremely controversial in the Catholic Church, and he was grateful that a spirit of love and acceptance had prevailed. The priest rose from his kitchen table and made his way into the church proper. Kneeling before a large crucifix, he crossed himself.

"In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Dear Father, thank you for the return of the vessel seaQuest. Please, watch over Mister O'Neill for he is now more in need of your guidance than he has ever been. Help him to adjust to the changes of the last ten years, and give him the strength and courage to meet his problems head on."

The old priest smiled, knowing his prayer was heard. Smiling, he returned to finish his cup of coffee.



***
JB