Good Christian - Chapter 01

Harry thought he had found a good Christian family to stay with during his college semester in the U.S., but it seems like every family has its secrets. When Grace’s husband returns from the military, Harry learns that the faithful man of God might have a dirty mind of his own.

*

This story is a fiction.

It contains mature themes and should be read by adults only, and in any case, by people over the age of 18 years-old.

GOOD CHRISTIAN

Chapter 1: Living arrangement

It was a rather unexpected turn of events that brought me to live in the Holmes’ household in the last trimester of 2025.

It was surprising altogether that I was living in the States.

I was born in a small town right next to Bradford in the northern English county of West Yorkshire.

My father was unemployed most of my life and my mother was a cleaning lady.

To say that I grew up poor would be a massive understatement but somehow, we made do.

My relationship with my dad was difficult, he was a complicated man with complicated feelings toward me, essentially resenting me for being gay, but I also grew up with three older brothers who I adored.

It was easier being the gay boy in the family when my parents already had three straight boys to care for and worry about.

My mom often said that it was just statistics that one of us would turn out to be “a homosexual” and my brothers had always supported and defended me.

That did not change the fact that we were broke as fuck and although I was an excellent student (top of my class every single year), it was tough to imagine going to college or ever getting out of my small town.

That was until one of my teachers in high school told me about a program to go study in one of the most prestigious science universities in America.

A year later, at barely 18 years old, I was leaving my country for the first time to move across the Atlantic Ocean to Phoenix, Arizona.

I studied to become an engineer and my tuition was mostly paid by a private charity fund.

The only issue was renting a place nearby since even the dorms were way too expensive for me, but again, I found a solution.

There was a Catholic organization through which senior citizens were willing to let students occupy vacant rooms in their houses in exchange to have someone to take care of some of the chores that they could no longer do themselves.

In the summer of 2022, I met Elizabeth Garner online, a fervent Christian lady in her sixties who had just lost her husband.

She was not that old, but she had some problems with her right hip and wanted to have someone to mow the lawn and perform tasks she could no longer do in her house.

It could be anything from changing lightbulbs to attending the garden or reaching difficult spots while vacuuming.

Ms. Garner was barely using the second story of her house anymore as she slept in the bedroom on the first floor. And so, she registered at her local church to welcome a foreign student into her home.

I felt like a fraud because most of the students benefiting from this program were coming from more difficult backgrounds or poorer countries.

Also, I was not a Christian myself; it was one of my brothers who had heard about the program back in the UK.

I told Ms. Garner immediately that I was gay, kind of expecting her to frown, take a step back or talk to me about conversion therapy but she was very gracious.

“I love the homosexuals because God made them that way.” She told me over our first skype encounter.

Very Lady Gaga of her, I thought.

Straight from the beginning, Ms. Garner and I got along just fine.

I think she mostly wanted to have someone in a house, which had become too big for her since her husband had passed away from a sudden heart attack.

Some of the people in the program were exploited by their hosts, but I was not.

Ms. Garner barely asked me to do anything and anytime she did have a request, she would be very polite about it, always making sure that I had time and it was not a bother.

Sometimes, I was the one insisting that she found something for me to do. I did not want to take advantage of her kindness.

She was also very good about letting me have my personal space, which was very much appreciated.

I was not allowed to bring anyone home, but I could come and go as I pleased and we would sometimes spend several days without even seeing each other.

I had my own bathroom and, more generally, my own space upstairs.

I was happy to have dinner with Ms. Garner from time to time, though. She sort of made me feel better about Christians in general.

Some of them were not as close-minded and intolerant as I thought!

In fact, Ms. Garner was the definition of tolerance.

I stayed at her home for three full years and it was a great time.

I had a few boyfriends during this time; I liked American boys despite their circumcised cocks but I did not get into anything serious.

At 21, I had a juicy bubble butt, tight abs, and, apparently, a cute, dorky face. It was only natural to have some fun and try out the U.S. jocks before committing to anything serious.

My British accent also helped me get into the dorms of the hottest college hunks.

Some of them were pretendedly straight… They were not that straight when they were ploughing my ass though!

There was one guy, Brett, who I dated for a couple of months and the sex was quite good.

That man could top me just the way I liked it—rough and raw—but he fell in love and I did not, meaning that I had to cut things off.

For some reason, guys my own age bored me.

Sure, they could fuck, but other than that, I rarely felt the spark.

I had always been attracted to older, more mature men.

My Mechanical Engineering professor for instance, a forty something year-old silver fox was my ultimate fantasy. Big arms, hairy chest, and a fat ass.

He was unfortunately heterosexual. Also, he was my teacher, but that was an irrelevant detail.

Of course, Ms. Garner never met any of the boys I slept with, but she was aware I was dating around.

She hoped that I would find my Prince Charming.

“I’m here for a degree, not to find love.” I told her one night.

“Love has a way of finding you when you least expect it, young man!”

I rolled my eyes and she served me some more of her famous stew.

I got to meet Grace rather early into my stay.

She was one of Ms. Garner’s daughters; the other one lived in Florida.

Grace came by the house at least once a week to visit her mother so it would often happen that I would run into her.

As the months went by, we were more formally introduced and I learned a little more about her life.

She lived nearby with her husband who was in the military. I had never seen him as he was often sent abroad for long periods of time.

Grace was even more religious than her mother, talking about God all the time to the point that it was annoying.

She did not seem like a bad person but she was a bit of a snooze fest, always mentioning prayers and “good Christian values”.

Once, I overheard a private conversation about Grace’s difficulties getting pregnant. Apparently, she had been trying for years and years.

She was once again hoping the Lord would hear her prayers.

“I’m doing everything I can to follow the words of God, mom. Even Chris thinks I’m crazy sometimes. But I don’t know what else to do… I’m 35, Chris is nearing 40, we don’t have a lot of time left.”

“Have you considered adopting?”

“Mom! Please—we talked about it… That’s not for me… I need to carry my child.”

I never thought too much of Grace as I did not think the two of us would ever develop any sort of relationship.

That brings us to my fourth and final year in the program. I had spent a good part of the summer back in the U.K. and was coming back eager to get my diploma and happy to see Ms. Garner again.

Immediately though, I sensed that something was off.

She was not her usual self, losing her words and her temper more than usual. In just three months without seeing her, the change was staggering.

After a couple weeks back, she called me by the name of her late husband and that freaked me out for real.

I had my head in a whirl for a while, until I finally made up my mind to call Grace.

I had only used the emergency contact once—the year before, when her mother had tripped in the garden.

“Hi Grace, this is Harry Carson.”

“Oh, hi! How are you doing? Is everything all right?”

“Yes, I… I’m not sure how to say this, but I’m a little worried about Elizabeth. I was wondering if you noticed anything different this summer?”

There was a long pause on the line and then, Grace started crying.

We got a coffee the next day and she told me that although she did not want to admit it to herself, she had noticed some strange behaviors.

“She’s not even 70 yet, she’s so young to be having cognitive issues… I’m not sure how we’re gonna deal with this.”

It was a tough couple of weeks.

Grace tried to talk to her mom but she did not want to listen. She kept saying she was perfectly fine until one day, I came back from class and I found Ms. Garner lying on the stairs.

Because of her hip, she usually did not even attempt to go upstairs, but she had been taking inconsiderate risks lately.

She was ultimately fine, but she had to go to a hospital.

The situation was concerning and unstable for a little while and I found myself living alone for a full week although I was visiting Ms. Garner at the hospital almost every day.

On a Sunday afternoon early in October, Grace invited me to her home for lunch.

I had never been there before, but it was your typical suburban house with a pool in the backyard and a large American flag on the front.

Fancy.

She said we needed to talk and I was worried. About Ms. Garner of course, but also about my own situation. I still had two semesters to go.

“My sister Maggie is going to take our mom to live with her in Florida.” Grace announced once she had poured me a cup of coffee.

“Oh…”

“Her husband is a doctor; they can have a nurse with her 24/7 and she has the kids there… I think they need to see their grandmother.”

I knew it was painful for Grace to say that.

She wanted so badly to have a child of her own.

“Okay… I understand. Whatever’s best for your family.”

“My mother is happy to spend more time with Maggie but she’s concerned about two things. Leaving me alone here, and leaving you stranded. As far as I’m concerned, I have friends and a community here, I can always count on the parish and on the people from church, but when it comes to you, we’re gonna sell the family house and…”

“I can no longer stay in it. Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out for myself.”

I had been anticipating this for the last few days.

Obviously, welcoming a foreign student was no longer a priority for the family.

“Her house is no longer an option but we’ve found a solution for you. It was too important for mom to make sure you’ll be okay; you’re like her third child now.”

“That’s sweet but I can find a solution for myself. As long as Elizabeth is okay—that’s the most important thing.”

“Harry, just listen. If you want to, you can live here, with me.”

I was not expecting that at all.

“What? Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“I understand that Elizabeth wants to keep helping me but you don’t owe me anything Ms. Holmes. I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Most of the year, I live here by myself. We have three bedrooms and we’re only using one. Besides, you’ve been a great help to mom, I owe you that. It’s the right, Chrisitan thing to do.”

There she was again with her good Christian values.

“But what about your husband?”

I had noticed a few pictures of a stunning military officer around the house.

Grace smiled.

“Well, to be honest, Chris did freak out, but only when he found out you were a man.”

“Why is that?”

“When I told him about how we should welcome the student who had been living with my mom, he was totally fine with it until he realized that you weren’t a girl. He had always wrongly assumed that the student at my mom’s place was a woman. He’s a little old fashioned; he didn’t want another man in the house.”

“Sure, I get that.”

“But it’s all good! I told him about your, hum, your…”

I started to see where she was going.

“My sexual orientation?”

“Exactly! And he was reassured right away. I hope it’s not a problem that I shared that private information?”

“It’s no problem at all but… Please, don’t feel like you need to do this.”

“I’m not sure when Chris will come back home so, really, it’s no trouble. Besides, before my mother moves to Florida, she’s gonna stay here for a few weeks. I’m always busy with the Church so you could help. This is a good way to be there for everyone. That’s how a community should work.”

“Well, I guess I should just say thank you then.”

And that was it.

I moved in the very next day.

There was a short period of time during which Ms. Garner was temporarily living with us, then Grace’s sister came to get her and they left for Florida.

I promised I would visit her and we had our new living arrangement.

Grace’s house was smaller than her parents—I would not have my own bathroom—but we quickly found a system to respect each other’s personal space.

I did not get along with Grace as well as I did with her mother, but it worked out regardless. By the end of the month, we were both used to this new dynamic and I felt right at home.

This would only be my situation for 6-7 months, anyway. I was almost done with college.

In the end, I could only be grateful.

Besides, my life was going fine. I had a few good friends in Phoenix, a best friend in my class named Javier, and I had gotten used to college life the American way.

The only downside during that time was that I was on a dry spell, sex-wise.

I had not done anything since my return to the U.S. in September and it was starting to get to me.

Your boy was filled with raging hormones!

One evening, I was thinking about downloading Grindr again when I heard some unusual screams inside the house.

Grace occasionally had a few neighbors come by, but I had never heard such a ruckus. Especially not during a week night.

I was not sure whether I should go see what was happening. It was probably none of my business, but what if she was being attacked?

Silently, I came out of my bedroom and walked barefoot to the stairs to see what was happening on the first floor.

I heard a man's deep voice, which was even more unusual.

In fact, aside from myself, I had never seen another man in the house in the four weeks I had lived there.

There was laughter; it did not seem like someone was trespassing.

Was Grace cheating on her husband?

No, she would have been more discreet.

I mean, she would never have done that, period!

She was a good Christian woman, always wearing her golden cross around her neck and praying before meals.

I did not walk down the stairs, but I kept looking for movement. I admit that I was a bit curious.

Very quickly, though, a man passed by the hallway in front of the stairs and looked straight up at me.

“Who's that?!” He howled.

I was paralyzed on the spot.

I felt as if I had been caught doing something wrong.

His voice was low and threatening. The man looked huge while his face was partially hidden by the wooden stairs.

I should have said something because I had nothing to be ashamed of—well, except maybe for my pajamas with teddy bears on them.

It was the wrong choice of outfit; I did not know I would have a visitor!

In any case, I was speechless.

“Honey, relax, it’s Harry!”

“Fuck! And who’s Harry?”

“The student. I’ve told you about him several times.”

“Oh… Right… The student! Well, what the heck are you doing on the stairs, looking at me like that, young man? Are you a creep or something?”

I finally came out of my stupor.

“Sorry, I… I wasn’t looking, I just… I wanted to come downstairs to get some water but I realized you might be busy; I didn’t want to interrupt.” I blurted out.

“Come down, Harry, I’ll introduce you.” Grace said cheerfully.

As I walked down the stairs, Christian Holmes's full body and face were slowly revealed to me.

The first thing I should mention is that the man was incredibly handsome.

Like, he was so attractive that it was hard to believe at first sight.

I had already noticed his good looks in the pictures in the living room, but trust me, they did not do him any justice.

Christian was much hotter in real life.

He also looked older than he did in his wedding pictures, which made sense since they were from a decade prior, but I liked him even better this way, in his early forties.

His thick mustache, the brown eyes, the buzzcut, the khaki pants, and the black tank top showcasing his massive upper body were all right up my alley.

I was simultaneously terrified and in awe.

Once I was down the stairs, it was clear that he was at least a good head taller than me. At 5'7", I was no short king, but the man was very tall!

“So, you're the kid who's been living with my wife.”

“I'm a Science student at the University.”

“Don’t scare him away, Chris. Be nice.” Grace said.

Christian extended his hand, which I shook.

Unsurprisingly, he had a firm handshake. It felt like he nearly broke my fingers.

“I'm always nice, Gracie. You know me.”

“Thanks for letting me use one of the rooms. I’ve never had the chance to thank you directly.”

"Yeah, maybe you should have called me.”

“I…”

He cut me off, uninterested in my poor excuse for not taking the time to give him a thank you call.

“How old are you, kiddo?”

“I’ll be 22 in a few weeks.”

“Barely old enough to drink, then…”

“But I don't drink.”

“Oh? Any other vices?”

Believe it or not, the man’s voice literally gave me shivers.

What was I supposed to say?

Should I mention that I was searching for a Grindr date when he arrived?

“No, I mean, I—”

“Cut it out, honey. Let the poor guy breathe. Harry has been really nice since he got here.”

“Hmm… Super nice to my wife. Interesting.”

“Sir, I…”

This time, I stopped myself.

Was I really about to remind him that I was gay? I hesitated.

“That's fine. I trust my Gracie.”

"Well, come on, honey. You must be starving. I’m so glad you’re back.” Grace held her husband’s broad shoulders.

“I should leave you to it, then. I'll be in my room.” I said awkwardly, eager to return to the safety of my room.

“Of course. Have a good evening, Harry.” Grace told me warmly.

“Good evening, boy. We'll talk later.” Her husband added, with way less warmth in his voice.

I returned to my bedroom, feeling extremely nervous.

It was clear that Christian Holmes did not want me in his home, and I no longer felt welcome.

I was already thinking about packing my bags and searching for a Plan B. Maybe one of my exes could do me a solid and let me crash at his place until I could find another solution?

I could probably text Javier even though he was sharing a dorm room with other guys.

I had mixed feelings because, although I was scared of Grace’s husband, I could not deny that I was also very much attracted to him.

Setting aside the fact that he was a married Christian man who seemed to hate me at first sight, he was the textbook definition of my type.

He was mature and beefy, a military man with big, bouncy pecs ready to burst out of a too-tight tank top, massive veiny biceps on display, and a big butt trapped in a pair of pants one size too small.

I tried studying to take my mind off things and I ignored the couple reconnecting downstairs.

Already, I was kind of jealous of Grace for getting pounded by a man who had been away for eight months.

It was like getting fucked by someone who was coming out of prison. That was  intense—Or so I imagined.

About an hour later, I was becoming increasingly confused by a math exercise when someone knocked on my door.

I said "someone," but I knew exactly who it was even before he came in.

“Yes?” I said in a small voice, which was unlike me.

Christian walked in without ceremony.

He looked even taller and broader than before. Sitting on my bed with my math equations in my ridiculous teddy-bear pajamas, I looked up.

“So, you’re living here? In this room?”

“I… I was, but if that’s a problem, I’ll just—"

“What? You want to leave because of me? It was fine when it was just you and my wife,  and now it’s a problem?”

“No! That's not what I meant, at all. I—"

“Cut the bullshit, would you?”

I gulped.

I hated how weak he made me feel. I was not supposed to be so socially awkward. I knew how to stand up for myself.

Normally.

Christian walked closer to my bed, towering over me. He was so big and strong.

“I'm not here to cause any trouble.” I mumbled.

He smiled for the first time.

I bet he loved the power trip.

“You sure won't, boy. But before I let you stay in my home, I have to do a quick check.”

“A check? Of what kind?”

“I need to make sure you’re really into guys and not just trying to get to my wife.”

“I swear that…”

He put his finger on my lips and, in that instant, my whole body was electrified.

“We'll see. I know fruity boys. I’ve seen a few of them in the army. I'm usually very good at spotting them. I’ll be able to tell easily.”

“How?” I let out in a single breath.

He moved his hand from my face to my wrist.

Before I knew it, he grabbed my right hand and led it to his chest, and with his other hand, he pulled up his tank top.

Christian exposed his hairy six-pack abs for me to see… and to touch.

“Let's see what feeling up this chest does to you, young man.”

[And that's it for the introduction chapter. Tune in next week for chapter 2, and then every Tuesday for the following chapters. I bet you're gonna love this one, guys!]