A/N: Most of the time I write one-shots. Mayhaps I shall follow up some of my favorites. Someday. Mayhaps.

Yet another short Isaac/Ivan drabble/ficlet. Enjoy!

Wine on the Altar

Forgive me, for I have sinned.

Wrong, so very wrong; the thoughts I thought, the feelings I felt, the attachment I nurtured. Yes, he was a friend, the best friend I'd ever had, though I wasn't his.

Shamefully, my lust took control of me, twisting logic and reason and right and wrong, hardening and softening my perceptions of the world. I worshipped him - my friend, my idol, my savior - on the altar of the night. And upon the altar I placed my innocence, my hope, my plea for the cleansing of an impure soul. The communion wine was sour, the bread stale and old; my religion claimed my heart as tithe.

Logic and reasoning seemed to slip through my fingers. My companions noticed my lapses in judgment growing more frequent by the day, drawing inquiries as to my health. My health, I'd assured them, was fine.

That night, the compassionless moon hid her face from my ritual of travesty. The wind held her breath, abandoning me to the danger of myself and my sacrament. Mid-rite, my savior appeared in search of me. I froze, heart forgetting to beat, numbed panic flowing through my veins, as his gaze passed over me, and then fell to my level.

Look away, look away! You should not have to witness this travesty, this appalling display of primal manhood and desperate worship! The corners of my thought were coming together, still not managing to connect.

My savior stood and stared.

I kneeled, waiting for Holy retribution, the earth opening to swallow me whole and bury me forever in an unmarked grave. Instead, he came to me, enveloped me in his embrace, and forgave my sins.

My savior took me to Heaven.