Chapter Text
EPILOGUE
He’d known it would happen sooner or later. He was lucky it was a good six months before Papa had to leave for travel. Papa could be on the road for many weeks at a time for the Ghost project, and Copia tried to be thankful it was only for two months.
It was hard to be thankful when every day that passed was spent in denial of release his body craved.
Raphael unwittingly did exactly what Papa wanted him to do - he threw himself into the church. He prayed fiercely as he ached with want. He figured out new efficiencies and deep-cleaned the archives, whispering to the rats he disturbed that he would leave them and their homes alone if they promised not to tell on him. A rat stood on its hindquarters and sniffed at him. He scratched it on the head and it seemed to understand.
He had completely overturned the storage archives, sorting the hoarder’s room of a stock for the first time in centuries. He stood at the entrance to the room,the place now functional and well lit, and felt genuinely proud of himself.
Papa was coming home tonight. The thought of it made his stomach clench, and he had to take measured breaths and think other thoughts to calm himself, but he had been abuzz with anxiety all day. Papa would likely be tired from his travels, and might not call for his company right away. It could even be days, or a week. His company to Papa was not only for sex, even once they met again it didn’t guarantee any relief. He tried not to sweat at the thought of so much extra time to wait.
He felt about as nervous as he did the first time he was summoned to see Papa alone. He had lived under his thumb ever since. Papa had been frank with him before he left for his trip, and knew Copia would be stuck waiting for him while he was gone. He wasn’t required to keep himself plugged while Lorenzo was gone, but he was expected to have it in once he had returned. Papa had teased him, but was surprisingly quick to comfort him as well before he was gone.
Copia didn’t fuss with the plug until half the day had passed, and then he knew he could avoid it no longer. His own chambers were small in comparison to the Papal chambers, but he was happy to retire to the sanctuary of his room. He laid in bed and tried to ignore his insistent erection before he sighed and wiggled his pants below his hips, kicking them off and laying back. He pulled the plug from his bedside drawer, tracing his thumb over the outline of the grucifix emblazoned on the flat, before thumbing a bottle of lube from the drawer.
He was careful to open himself slowly, but every touch felt unbearably sensitive. He’d gotten good at pushing back that need, but it was impossible to quell when he was actively touching himself like this.
He fisted his cock, giving himself a few indulgent strokes. He bit his lip to pull away and redress, returning to his work with chagrin.
He’d almost managed to focus on translating another piece from the old archives when a sister of sin rushed in, huffing breathlessly.
“Papa Emeritus the second and the ghouls are back!!!”
He stood, a flutter low in his stomach, and brushed over his robes self-consciously, and joined the other members heading for the door.
The band’s return was greeted like a mini parade every time, anointing the returning members with flowers and gifts as they took the first walk back down the main hallway, lined with hundreds of candles on each side and excited clergy and ghoullings. The band looked a bit road-weary but still spirited, happy to reach out for kisses on their hands and blessings. Copia was near the end, and waiting for them to stroll by was stressful.
Finally, he saw the ghouls, winking and waving. Then the sisters that accompanied the band, tending the instruments and schedules and stages.
Papa wasn’t wearing his facepaint, or his sunglasses. Instead, he bore a flower crown of plumb black roses ringed around his head.
When Copia met his eyes, he smiled, and little crows feet appeared at the edges of his eyes. Copia felt surprisingly light. He was really, really happy to see him, genuinely. Papa looked very happy to see him, too.
Copia could not attend him yet, but he looked forward to their reunion later. Quickly after the little walk the crowd dispersed, cleaning up the ashes of incense and drips of candles, each one snuffed out with reverie and replaced wherever they came from.
One of the sisters that toured greeted him, catching him before he departed back to the archives.
“Grand Papa Emeritus the Second requests your company at 6, for an early dinner to be held in his private garden.” Copia gulped and bowed, thanking her for the message. She smiled warmly at him, and it eased his embarrassment to see the kindness in her eyes. He was not necessarily unpopular in the church, but he was...different, and he knew that. He often struggled socially and felt everyone else understood some silent language everyone but he could hear. But he was not disliked, perhaps just known to be a bit awkward. He wasn’t sure what the church knew of his relationship with Papa, it was not forbidden but also largely kept mum. The sister parted and he stared after her for a moment before shaking his head and parting. A coy smile tugged at the edges of his lips, and he felt lighter than he had in awhile.
Six o’clock came as fast as a wave of molasses, and yet by the time he was at Papa’s garden doors, he felt like the time had flown by too fast.
He knocked tentatively, smoothing his dress out of nervous habit more than anything. There was a brief pause before he recognized Papa’s voice behind the door.
“Come.”
Raphael swallowed and pressed his hand on the thick wooden door, with opened easily under his touch.
Papa was seated at the small garden table, the wide black table umbrella above it extended and twinkling with fairy lights. Incense drifted lazily through the garden, carefully kept by Emeritus the first and a handful of ghouls and clergy. They were alone here tonight, among the decadent swaths of black and poisonous plants.
“Hello Papa. It is - very good to see you.”
Papa had his sunglasses on again, but Raphael thought he could see something special past the dark lenses.
“Come here, little one. I missed you so.”
Papa stood, and when Copia stepped forward, he embraced him with surprising softness.
Raphael could feel his gloved fingers carding through his hair soothingly and closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath in of Lorenzo’s familiar cologne.
“What is this?” Papa pulled back and looked down at the poorly wrapped box in Copia’s hands, anointed with a clumsy bow.
“Oh, I - I have a little gift, for your return, Papa.”
Lorenzo held out his hands patiently and Copia aquised it to him. Lorenzo brought it over to the table where Copia joined him, sitting across from him and trying not to twiddle his hands.
Papa pulled the paper apart carefully and sighed, running an appreciative hand over the leather box exposed. He opened it carefully and peered inside.
“It’s - cigars, from the old country. Rolled from - from blasphemous erotica confiscated from the catholic archives.”
Lorenzo swore softly in italian and Copia swallowed hard.
“Do you like it?”
“It is..very thoughtful. Many fans give me offerings, and I appreciate their tokens, but this - this is something special. From someone special. You truly know how to please me, my boy.”
Raphael flushed and averted his eyes, but Papa took his hand from the table and pressed his lips to his knuckles.
A ghoul brought out dinner, lamb in a red wine something that tasted divine. Often Lorenzo would actually cook, but Copia assumed he was fatigued from his travels and thanked the nameless Ghoul that served them. Garlic bread with no skimping on the garlic, and a pink wine that left Raphael feeling a bit blushed.
They chatted about the tour, the rituals he most enjoyed, and filled him in on the minute dramas within the church during his absence.
“How have you fared without me?”
“I have accomplished much in the archives, I hope you will be proud.”
“I am always proud. When you are good...and even more when you are not.” He laughed and Copia ducked his head shyly. He didn’t see or hear Papa move his chair, but suddenly he was seated behind him, his body very close.
“How have you really fared though? Did you miss me much?” Papa’s hand stroked up and down his thigh, and Copia couldn’t help but shiver a little.
“...Yes Papa, I missed you so very, very much.”
Lorenzo’s index finger caught under Copia’s chin, tilting his face up to look at him.
“You are so lovely. Even my old mind did not forget.”
Copia didn’t remember when he agreed to go back to Papa’s chambers. He didn’t remember if he offered to clear their plates. Maybe it was the wine, or because he couldn’t sleep last night, or maybe he was distracted because Papa just smelled like magic and sandalwood and something dark and deep…
But soon he was in Papa’s lap, whimpering the neediest sounds of his life against his lips as he ground against his knee.
Papa’s broad hands roamed every inch of him, his touch electric and tingly like a static shock. He held Raphael’s head in his hands, rubbed the back of his neck, down his shoulders, teasing his hips, giving his ass an authoritative squeeze and brushing the tips of his fingers along the base of the plug. Copia whimpered and arched, pushing harder against his thigh and then back against his hands. Finally Papa snuck his hands down his belly, cupping his crotch shamelessly and giving him an appreciative squeeze through his pants. Copia broke panting, squirming into the touch. He felt so hot and sensitive, every inch of his skin prickling and warm and needy, and everything felt so good…
Papa kissed up the side of his neck to his ear, murmuring against the shell so he could hear.
“I can feel how much you needed me, little one… all your pleasure denied all this time. Did you miss me? Did you touch yourself and think of me? Did you wait for me to make you feel good? Such a good boy, giving his pleasure to his Papa...such sacrifice must be rewarded. I am going to take you tonight, and please every inch of you until you must beg me to stop…”
Copia whimpered and came, rutting against Papa’s thigh between his legs greedily. The hormone rush hit him hard, making him feel light headed for a moment, and he pressed his forehead to Papa’s chest as he caught his breath. Immediately shame rose red along his neck - he didn’t even get his pants off before he was overwhelmed by a little rubbing and dirty words. Lorenzo chuckled above him and Raphael groaned. He wanted more, he wanted so much more, and he’d already spoiled the moment.
Lorenzo’s hands dropped to his ass, squeezing and fluttering the tips of his fingers against the base of the plug he could feel.
“Do not think you will be spared now, little one. I have much planned for you tonight.”
Lorenzo, true to his word, worked Raphael over until he begged for mercy - twice. He tied him to his lavish bed, exploiting every nerve in his body with wicked tips of feathers and sharp teeth. He played his body, making him mewl for more and squirm in unbearable oversensitivity. There was a connection there, some spark in the air, and Papa had never been so ravenous, Raphael had never been so needy.
When Lorenzo finally released him, he held Raphael and stroked through his hair gently.
“Little one?”
Copia blinked slowly, struggling to stay awake.
“Yes, Papa?”
“You don’t have to work tomorrow.”
Copia chuckled, but felt a tremendous sense of relief. He felt so, so tired.
“Thank you, Papa.”
“Only one condition.”
Copia moaned softly, fighting his heavy eyes.
“Yes?”
“You must spend the day with me.”
Raphael grinned, sinking into Papa’s plush bed.
“Anything for you, Papa.”