Chapter Text
You let out a heavy sigh, deep exhaustion digging its claws into your skin. Just like every night, you cannot find comfort in your bed and will yourself to sleep. The moon covers you in a pale blanket of light to coax you into slumber, just as she does every night, but her efforts are futile. You have been plagued with insomnia since you were young, but it seemed with age, it only seemed to get worse. A good night's rest hardly ever graced your presence, leaving you with dark bags under your eyes. It wasn’t even necessary to wear the traditional raccoon eyes that some members of the clergy tended to bore.
“Lucifer, have mercy on me…” you pleaded under your breath as you tossed around in your blankets. It seemed no matter what you tried; you could not have more than a few hours of sleep each night. Sleeping pills, tea, melatonin, reading… nothing seemed to work. Surely nobody could survive off this little sleep, but by some unholy miracle, you haven’t keeled over and died. You even managed to function somewhat like a normal person day to day, only looking a little bit like a walking corpse. Frustrated, you throw off your covers and turn on your bedside lamp, eyes burning slightly as the warm light fills your room. On nights like these, a walk around the Abbey tended to clear your mind. Admiring the gothic architecture and the beauty it held put you at ease. You were in an old Ghost t-shirt and well-loved sweatpants but threw on a black robe to save yourself the embarrassment of the possibility of someone seeing you at this hour. You slide into your slippers as you give the moon a silent thanks at her attempt at comfort and quietly slip out of your room into the dark hallway of the clergy dormitories.
Glass oil lamps lined the walls, casting the hall in a soft amber light that shone on the polished stone floor. Your soft footsteps echo down the vacant hall as you gaze around the hall. You have memorized the Abbey like it was the back of your hand in a short amount of time a long time ago. Still, you would surely never get tired of its beauty, its unholiness captivating you every time you take in the paintings on the walls, the stained glass windows, and the dark wooden engravings lining the walls. One of your favorite places was the temple itself, the altar dedicated to The Olde One radiated such an immense power it stole the breath from your lungs, especially when Papa Emeritus IV preached from it.
He held himself with such grace that it gave you a similar feeling to watching him perform rituals worldwide. Even with all of the power he held, he still was incredibly personable. He was kind and gentle and had a certain charm, especially in his awkwardness. You thought of him fondly… perhaps too fondly. You squeezed the bridge of your nose, cringing at yourself for your foolishness. Of course, you’d fall for him; it wasn’t uncommon for a sibling of sin to desire a Papa, nor for a Papa to bed a sibling, but this was different. You had gotten close with the former Papas, even being quite close with the third Emeritus brother, but you have never been enamored with them like you are with the current Papa.
The third knew of your predicament only because he knew you so well. He teased you relentlessly for it, offering to be a wingman for you in the past. You gave him a hard glare, commenting on how it was fortunate for you that Satan didn’t grace him with the art of subtlety. He feigned shock with a gloved hand on his chest and a gasp, “Amico mio, why must you insist on hurting my pride?” he had said.
“Like I ever could,” you scoffed at him, but with a slight smile. “In any case, there isn’t anything really special about me. I am just a brother of sin, and surely if Papa were to have someone by his side, it wouldn’t be someone like me.” As you spoke, you fiddled with the belt of your cassock, trying to digest your words as truth, even if they sat heavy in your stomach.
The third frowned at this, his mismatched eyes burning holes in your head. “That’s my friend you’re talking about, you know.” He paused, putting a hand on your shoulder. “But I know my brother quite well, fratello. I think I have good insight into what he likes and doesn’t like.” He squeezed your shoulder at his words, leaving you with a slight unease. You didn’t dwell on his words long before you changed the subject. That had been a mere few days ago, and his cryptic words flooded your mind as you wandered the Abbey halls. You had made your way to where some clergy offices were, admiring the large window that cascaded from floor to ceiling, looking out to the courtyard that the offices surrounded. The courtyard was bathed in moonlight, gracing the foliage with dark navy shadows. You were so engrossed in its beauty you didn’t even hear the clacking footsteps of dress shoes approaching you.
“I didn’t expect to see anyone up and about at this hour.” a familiar voice floods your ears, and you nearly feel your soul leave your body. You jolted as Papa Emeritus IV was standing next to you suddenly, still donning his papal robes and face paint. “Ah! Mi dispiace, I didn’t mean to startle you, brother.” He said apologetically.
You huff out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, “It’s alright, Papa. I wasn’t expecting anyone either.” You chuckle, mostly out of nerves.
He gave you a small smile as he wrung his hands together, the leather creaking slightly. “If I may, what are you doing walking around the Abbey at this time of night?”
Ah, yes, you almost forgot why you were even here in the first place. You were suddenly very aware of your clothing and closed your robe in a tight fist. “I just couldn’t sleep. I find that walking helps clear my mind.”
“I am quite familiar with the feeling, and I can see it in your face. This has been a problem for a while, si?” Your jaw tensed, and you felt your face burn in embarrassment. How did he know? You were aware you looked awful, but Papa, of all people, noticed? “Er… I’m sorry, that was rude of me to assume, wasn’t it? I just- happened to see you more often lately, and you seemed unwell. I was, um… worried.” His voice wavered as he spoke, wringing his hands tighter. Your brain seemed to misfire at his words, leaving you slightly stunned but not stunned enough to form a coherent response.
“No need to be sorry, Papa, but… yes, this has been an issue for me for some time. No need to worry, though. I’m quite used to it by now.”
He nods and makes an affirmative noise, “I see… most nights, I am cooped up in my office until about this time. But that is of my own volition.” You nod along as he rambles about how he somehow doesn’t find his work exhausting and how much he enjoys it. You admire his dedication and devotion to his work—just another thing to add to the laundry list of traits you find attractive in him. You weren’t sure why he seemed so engrossed in speaking to you, but you listened to his every word and secretly reveled in the attention he gave you, the moon bathing you both in a pale glow that only made his face paint look all the more striking. He had stopped talking suddenly to gesture to your chest. “You have good taste, fratello.” he teased, giving you a small chuckle. Your heart swelled at the sound of his laughter, and your cheeks burned, realizing you had relaxed your body and uncovered the old shirt you wore.
“Ah… thank you, Pa-”
He held his gloved palm up to you, effectively stopping you from speaking further. “No need to use my title all the time, fratello. You can call me Copia as well.” The burning feeling in your cheeks had traveled up to your ears. Being permitted to use his name felt incredibly… intimate. Lucifer, you hoped it was dark enough for him not to be able to see your reddening complexion.
“Alright, no need to use mine all the time either, Copia.” You spoke confidently. He suddenly couldn’t look you in the face anymore, and he fiddled with his gloves.
He cleared his throat before speaking again, composing himself. “Noted… however, it is getting quite late now, and I don’t want to keep you up any longer than necessary. May I walk you back to your room?”
“That’s very kind of you. I’d appreciate that.”
He smiles at you once more, and you try to burn the image into your memory. You walk the halls with Papa, chatting with him about whatever comes to either of your minds at the moment. You were never good with small talk, but it didn’t feel forced or uncomfortable with Copia. Even the swaths of silence were comforting in a way. It didn’t feel like you were speaking with Papa Emeritus IV, the dark pope that led this ministry with care in the name of the Lord Satan himself. But rather, it felt like you were speaking to an old friend you have known for years. He trailed close next to you as you walked to your room, occasionally catching the smell of bergamot and lavender on his person. He was intoxicating in every sense of the word. Once you reached your room, you turned to him and offered a slight bow of your head.
“I appreciated your company on my walk, Copia. I wish you a lovely rest of your evening.”
He smiled and returned the bow. “I did as well. I’m sure I shall see you soon, fratello. I bid you goodnight…” He began to walk away, but not before looking at you from over his shoulder, your name gracing his lips in such a way it made you shudder. You ducked away into your room before embarrassing yourself for the umpteenth time that evening. You shucked off your robe with a sigh, tossing it elsewhere in the room and collapsing facefirst onto your plush bed. You didn’t even bother with the lamp. I’m so fucked… you were certain now that this crush of yours would not fade as you had hoped. Now that Papa had spent time with you, your mind couldn’t let go of the possibility of it happening again. The memory of him saying your name with a smirk on his painted lips was the last thought you had before sleep overtook your mind.