River watched his friend, his brother, his lover approach Cassandra, hidden still against the staircase as Ezekiel attracted his mother's attention. Like River predicted, the woman was putty in Ezekiel's hands, and all it took was a gentle coaxing from the young man to pull her away from the kitchen, leaving the area empty for River to peruse as needed.<br/><br/>"Pray," River mumbled, a smile plastered on to his face as he reveled at the boys' in-joke, knowing Ezekiel's technique of using prayer to distract Father Lamont whenever they needed to sneak around or do something otherwise forbidden. Cassandra wasn't privy to the boys' shenanigans and seemed dumbfounded at Ezekiel's unusual request, but she acquiesced without hesitation, allowing River to sneak into the meticulously kept kitchen and begin his desperate searching.<br/><br/>Cupboard after cupboard was pulled open and sifted through. Dishware in one, dried and canned goods in another. Another filled with mugs and glasses, and then a forth compartment completely stuffed with baking necessities such as flour, sugar, baking powder, cinnamon, vanilla, and more, more, more. River was doing his best to be thorough in his search while still being quiet and quick. A fake prayer would only work for so long. His fingers twitched as he opened what looked to be pantry of some sort, his eyes scanning the shelves until<i>finally </i>he saw it. He wrapped his hand around the neck of the glass bottle, snatching it off of the shelf and exiting the pantry in a rush.<br/><br/>His heart was racing when he reached the bedroom. Getting caught stealing had always resulted in vicious lashings for the boys, leaving red, excruciating welts on their backs. River didn't want to consider what Cassandra would do had she caught him pilfering from her cabinets. Her pleasantness could only extend so far, River was sure. He set the bottle down on a small table next to the bed, waiting patiently for Ezekiel to return, his eyes traveling over the simple bedroom.<br/><br/>It was obvious things had been updated since Ezekiel's abduction, decorated to look more like a guest bedroom now than a room belonging to a member of family. The minutes dragged on, leaving River feeling anxious for Ezekiel's return. "Come back to me," he whispered, his hands gripping the bed sheets as he stared hard at the door. Ezekiel slipped in a few moments later, setting River's mind at ease as they worked together to close the bedroom door and shift the dresser back into its defensive position.<br/><br/>Neither boy spoke as they came together once more, hands removing one another's clothing as they had time dozens of times. They were naked by the time Zeke tore himself away, River's erection standing eagerly between their bodies. "Yes," he nodded, moving to grab the dark glass bottle from the dresser. A rustic drawing of olives was on the label, along with some dramatic swirling green script. The words "extra virgin" stood out, making River grin, reminding him of when the word "virgin" meant something.<br/><br/>River took his friend's hand and led him to the bed, easing him down onto his back. "I go first this time," River stated, opening the bottle and pouring a generous amount of oil onto his finger tips. It was smooth and slick, just how he remembered it. Ezekiel's legs were hanging off of the side of the mattress, his creamy white thighs spread. He knelt down between them, his head bowed, a humble disciple praying at the altar of Ezekiel.<br/><br/>"Forgive me," River breathed, slipping an oiled finger into Ezekiel, then another, slowly moving inside of him, loosening the older boy's clenched orifice. "Forgive me for what I'm about to do, Ezekiel. I am weak and imperfect, drawn to your flesh. I crave you. I cannot exist in this world without feeling you." His cock was throbbing and needy, desperate to be touched, to be<i>inside</i>.