Harry stays with a Christian family to finish his degree. If he's first intimidated by the patriarch returning from a military deployment, he quickly learns that the devout man of God welcoming him into his home might have a dirty mind of his own.
GOOD CHRISTIAN
![Capture d'écran 2025-11-09 224655.png]( "Capture d'écran 2025-11-09 224655.png")
Chapter 1: Living arrangement (Part 1)
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 would live 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 light-bulbs 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, relatively 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, Christian 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?"
GOOD CHRISTIAN
Chapter 1: Living arrangement (Part 1)
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 would live 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 light-bulbs 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, relatively 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, Christian 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?"
