Bred by the Mormon Missionaries

Bitter. Savory. The scent of coffee saturates the air.

My limbs seem to creak as I shuffle across the kitchen. Goddamn, I love working from home. Just roll out of bed, brew a coffee, then take calls in your pajamas.

I’m living the dream.

I’ve even got the boyfriend.

Jordan’s smiling face stares back at me from behind a picture frame on the wall. Thin, graceful, handsome…he’s got blue eyes and straight teeth that sparkle like gemstones. His light skin is smooth and unblemished—he’s always taken care of his image. It’s important though. He’s a performer at the local theatre. His acting and singing skills are second to none.

He’s the creative side of our relationship. We’re perfectly balanced.

“Alright, Matt, I’m heading out. Hold down the fort, alright?” Jordan enters the kitchen, a bag slung over his shoulder.

He’s dressed in formfitting jeans and a white dress shirt left untucked. The sleeves are rolled back, highlighting his lean forearms. His brown hair is manicured to perfection.

And then there’s me…bags under my eyes and still in my pajamas.

What a contrast. He’s out of my league.

“Ok, have a nice day! Stay safe.” I wave as he leaves our apartment.

Coffee mug in hand, I shuffle to the living room with my laptop. My ass sinks into the cushions. My muscles sigh with relief.

Let’s see…gotta answer these emails.

Gotta schedule a meeting…

*knock* *knock*

I tense up, looking around my apartment.

*knock* *knock*

Visitors…someone interrupting my morning ritual. I’m not expecting anyone. It better not be a salesman.

I close my laptop and rise, tiptoeing to the door. Deep voices echo while I peer through the peephole. Young men in suits.

Definitely salespeople.

Ugh.

Don’t waste my fucking time.

I unlock the deadbolt and turn the knob. A blast of cool, crisp air hits my face. It smells like springtime.

It’s odd though…these aren’t normal door-to-door salesmen. Clean-cut and bright-eyed, they wear suits with glossy black nametags. They’re young—barely old enough to be in college. Their tall frames tower over me, shoulders bulging from their suit jackets. Fit biceps pull the sleeves taut, drawing my eyes down toward their narrow waists.

These bodies…they’re shaped like tortilla chips. Wide at the shoulders, narrow at the base.

But unlike tortilla chips, they’ve got no Latin flair. Pale skin…brown hair…they could be football players in any small American town.

That doesn’t make them any less attractive though. There’s something alluring here. Something innocent in their eyes…

“Hello, Sir. How are you today?” The taller of the two speaks.

“I’m…uh, fine.”

“My name is Elder Nelson, and this is Elder Monson. What’s your name?”

I stand frozen, trying to process the bizarre scene. Elders? These guys are barely old enough to vote.

“M-Matt.” I blurt my name. “What are your real names? Who are you?”

“Bryce Nelson and Nephi Monson.”

Bryce is a stallion—square features, short blond hair, and blue eyes. Nephi is no less handsome though. He’s sharper and darker—foxlike.

“Nephi…? That’s an interesting name.”

“Thank you, sir.” He smiles, his eyes wide and glittery. “We’re missionaries from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Have you heard of the Book of Mormon?”

My jaw drops. I understand.

“Oh! You’re Mormons!”

“That’s right.” Bryce laughs. “Would you like to be happier than you are now? Do you know what would make you happy?”

“Sorry, guys. I’m not interested. I’m gay, and I know what you folks think about that.”

“But god loves all his children!” A surprised look flashes across his face.

“Yeah. God has a plan for everyone. Even LGBT people.” Nephi cuts in. “Would you like to learn more? We’d love to chat with you about your experiences.”

I hesitate. I don’t even believe in god. This would be a waste of time.

But…there’s a pair of hot boys at my doorstep. Why shouldn’t I invite them in for a chat?

Ugh. I’m a pervert.

Some company could be nice though. They probably deal with a lot of shitty people. The least I can do is offer them a coffee.

Yeah…I’ll be a gracious host. Just a quick break from work.

“Alright, come inside.” I step back, opening the door. “Can I get you anything to drink? A coffee?”

“Oh, we don’t drink coffee.” Bryce enters my apartment, Nephi following behind. “But some water would be nice.”

They sit in my living room, waiting while I bring a pair of glasses. The sofa creaks as I sit, breaking the tense, awkward silence. Shit…maybe this was a bad idea.

“This is a nice place. What do you do for work?” Nephi eyes photos of my boyfriend hanging above the fireplace.

“Oh, you know, boring office work.” I shrug. “What about you two? How’d you end up doing this?”

“We were both raised in the church. It’s improved our lives in so many ways.” Nephi leans forward, resting his athletic arms on his knees.

“I’ve heard about Mormons. You don’t accept blood transfusions, right?”

“Oh, that’s not us. You’re thinking of the Jehovah’s Witnesses.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Definitely!” His voice drops low. “Have you ever asked yourself deep questions? Why am I here? What’s my purpose?”

“I mean, I suppose so. Who hasn’t?” Fingers trembling, I raise my mug to my lips, taking a bitter sip.

“Exactly. Everyone’s searching for answers, but only the true church can provide them.”

They launch into a spiel about their religion’s history—some bullshit about a war in heaven and a teenager finding buried gold in the woods. The story plays like a low-budget action film.

I space out, tracing my eyes up and down their bodies. They’re built like tanks. Gorillas. These are the type of guys who used to push me around in school. I was so weak and anxious back then—embarrassed about my sexuality.

Being gay is rough. Whenever I found a guy attractive, he always turned out to be straight. Nature makes you attracted to men who find you repulsive. It’s a cruel joke.

But they’re so easy on the eyes…

I bet these guys fuck like animals. No shortage of pussy.

Or maybe not. Are Mormons weird about sex? Could these studs be…virgins?

That’d be a waste. High-quality seed deserves to be sown…

“And that’s why our church believes in modern-day prophets. Our leader can speak directly with god, delivering divine instructions to his followers. Isn’t that amazing?”