This is a commission for an anonymous patron. Their request involved writing a story about a gay couple, one a Catholic and the other a Protestant, and this is the result. What do you think? If you enjoyed this story, feel free to leave a comment down below! Have a wonderful rest of the week!

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We were two of a stereotypical pair; a wolf and fox couple living in a city apartment in the gay district. Whenever John and I met new people and they inevitably asked how the two of us met, we didn’t hide the truth. Hiding the truth only made him feel guilty while telling the whole truth made conversations awkward.
We’d say it was ‘a Bible camp of sorts’, but in reality, it was a conversion camp.

We were both seventeen. My crazy Protestant folks shipped me there after discovering me and a male classmate kissing. John got sent after his strict Catholic parents found him making certain Internet searches on the family computer. That summer was Hell on Earth, but what made it bearable for us was befriending each other, then falling in love, and exchanging ways to communicate before we returned home. Years would pass. We both cut off our families to create our own, together and happy. How we both managed to keep our religious faith after such hardship was a miracle.

Unfortunately, it came with some caveats. Where my Protestant faith could juggle being gay and a believer in the Bible, John’s Catholic upbringing involved more…guilt.

One such instance of this came during the morning after Lent. We both had the day off of work and I had slipped out of bed early in the morning for the kitchen. John had to get up and up bacon and ham for forty days, so I figured we could enjoy a continental breakfast together. By the time that I had everything ready, and the dishes set, I reentered the bedroom to wake up John…only to find him crying in bed.

“Oh my God,” I gasped, rushing over to sit beside him. “John, are you alright? Are you hurt or—”

“I’m not hurt,” he said between whimpers.

“What’s going on then, sweetie?” I delicately placed a paw to his forehead, thankful that he wasn’t sick either. The tears in his auburn eyes and the forlorn expression on his wolfish face when they met mine told me enough about what the matter was truly. “Did you have another nightmare?”

He nodded, mumbling, “…yes.”

Every so often, the two of us would have the occasional nightmare. However, John’s bad dreams would be the kind that left him shaken up first thing in the morning. However, these nightmares began they almost always ended with him being dragged down a dark hallway by demonic beings that resembled either his parents or the conversion camp staff, then being thrown down elevator shaft that teleports him directly to the underworld.

“I could feel the fires, James,” he whimpered. “I could almost smell the brimstone and taste the sulfur. I love you so much and yet I keep having these dreams. I am a sinner destined for Hell.”

I continued caressing his back as he shuddered. After gently pulling him up so that he sat beside me on the bed, I turned him to face me. One of my thumbs wiped a tear streaking down his left cheek. It always broke my heart to see him like this.

“You’re not going to Hell, sweetie.” I caressed his head as we lay in bed together. My fox tail entwined with his larger wolf tail, and I whimpered when he didn’t answer me, instead burying his nose into my hug. “Do you wanna go have an emergency session with D. Franzese?”

He exhaled, seemingly calming down as he shook his muzzle.

“I don’t think…I don’t think that’s necessary, James.” He sniffled, then sighed. “We already have a session scheduled this Friday. And…and you’re helping. Very much.”

I smiled. “Are you sure?”

“Well, I might leave him a voicemail saying it happened again,” John conceded after a moment, and ask if he’s got any sudden openings.”

“I think that’s best,” I concluded, and he chuckled while pulling me into a hug. My nose inched into the crook of my wolf’s neck. “Do you remember when we exchanged vows at the courthouse?”

John stirred. “Maybe?”

I rolled my eyes, still smiling. “You mentioned in your vows that I was your guardian angel sent down to save you, then love you. You mentioned I was proof that God cared about us and wanted us to be in love, the Bible and Vatican be damned.”

“You thought I was corny, James,” John mused, and we laughed together.

“I did,” came my reply, “but I thought it was very sweet. Romantic too. And would your guardian angel keep you anchored if it were true that you were destined to go to Hell?”

“No,” he replied.

I shifted my nose up to kiss him a little below the chin. Our tails wagged together atop the bed.

“I love you so much, John,” I told him, then looked my wolf straight into his handsome auburn eyes. The same ones that helped anchor me during my darker days at the camp and made me happier in the years since. “We’re very fortunate. We both remain followers of God, got married, and have a life here. I know you devoutly follow the word of the Pope closely, and I know that the majority of your fellow Catholics do not look kindly on us, but that doesn’t mean God doesn’t love us. He wouldn’t want us to be paralyzed by guilt.”

“Of course, a Protestant would say that,” he jested, and I blew him a raspberry. John laughed, then ruffled one of my fox ears. “Thank you, James. That…really helped. I love you.”

My smile couldn’t grow any wider. “I love you too, John,” I replied, then motioned towards the door. “Now c’mon. Our breakfast might still be warm. Since you finished Lent, I decided to reward you with some bacon and ham with eggs.”

“Say no more, sweetie!” he panted hungrily, practically leaping from the bed and dragging me out of the bedroom. “In the name of God, I’ve been looking forward to this!”

“Down, boy! Down!” I joked. “Don’t forget prayer!”

Before long, we were gathered at the table and thanked the Lord. We spent longer than usual praising His Name, but neither of us minded. Even as John stuffed his muzzle with ham and scrambled eggs and that deliciously sinful bacon, I once again found myself thinking back to that fateful day at the conversion camp. The two of us had found each other in hell and forged our own heaven on earth. In a strange sense, we were guardian angels for each other.