10 Works by violetlazer
Listing Works
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Summary
You can’t do another second of this. It’s twenty- ah- twenty one minutes past eight, Terzo is unspeakably late to the meeting he’d organised, and if you open your legs a little bit on this too-small couch you’ll be touching Copia’s thigh with your own.
(Or: Terzo does you a favour, Copia gets on his knees, and you make extended eye contact with a rodent.)
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“Ah. Welcome. Do you know why I have summoned you?”
“No, Papa,” you lie.
Even underneath his paint, you see him quirk an eyebrow. He hums, reaching into a drawer, retrieving his phone and placing it on the surface of the desk, screen facing you. He beckons you to come closer, and you reluctantly oblige. Reluctantly, because you know you’re facing your own oblivion in bright illuminated text. Since last night you’ve been living in desperate, foolish hope that what is currently happening might not happen. As you lean in close to assess the damage, a small, involuntary groan escapes you. You’re looking, as you knew you would be, at the message thread between you and Secondo on his personal, private number.
(Or: Your first kiss with Secondo.)
Series
- Part 2 of First Kisses: Papal Edition
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It’s maddening when someone permeates your mind to the point that silly things remind you of them. Case in point: you see a mildly interesting plant and you think of Primo. It’s relentless. And this morning, you’d been thoroughly on-track and on-time when you’d dropped your keys in a patch of grass just outside the living quarters. When you bent down to pick them up you’d come face to face with that most elusive treasure: the four-leaf clover.
(Or: Your first kiss with Primo.)
Series
- Part 1 of First Kisses: Papal Edition
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Summary
You reckon there’s a possibility you may be dreaming. As Sister Imperator slides into your lap, straddling you in the high-backed leather chair you’ve only just sunk into, a possibility seems to give way to a strong probability. Here, a couple of hours after Papa Nihil’s most recent performance, in the dingiest of bars this town has to offer, the jukebox is cranked up loud enough that she has to lean in close to speak. Long blonde hair tickles your nose.
“Something on your mind?”
(Or: You aren't meeting Sister Imperator's expectations. She wants to show you what you're missing out on.)
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It’s not that he can’t commit, as he’d told you one evening, fingers tracing your spine as you lay together in flushed afterglow. It isn’t that his eyes wander or he grows bored of his lovers. He’s simply never wanted to. Until-
Still, neither of you have dropped the bomb yet. The declaration that feels like the point of no return, that desperate leap into the unknown. If you cross that threshold together any illusion of a casual affair is shattered, and what then? You either belong to each other for the rest of your lives or suffer complete and utter heartbreak. Perhaps, though, tonight could be the night. Perhaps. Let’s see how brave you feel. But hell, he’s brought you to gaze at the stars and he’s so close and so handsome and you know it’s only a matter of time before you slip. You swallow.
“Thank you,” you say. “Terzo, this is–”
“I am in love with you.”
(Or: Terzo wants to watch the stars with you.)
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Summary
Perhaps it was overconfidence, then, the fact that no strings had truly meant no strings in past dalliances, that had led Secondo to forget that it’s always, always a gamble. No matter how sure you are in your ability to keep a distance, to temper feelings, to avoid threading the needle of jealousy that could so easily burrow its way into one’s chest and tug, nothing is promised. Friends with benefits is fine, easy even, until somebody starts ruminating over the quiet, tender moments before and after the deed or the kisses that linger just a little too long. The gulf is vast between ‘let’s keep this casual’ and ‘let’s try something real.’
(Or: Secondo is finding 'friends with benefits' more difficult than anticipated.)
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The notion hadn’t come from nowhere. It was a culmination of all those teasing observations and risky jokes between the two of you; your wry comments about Copia’s fondness for Aether compounded with Copia’s swift retorts about your wandering eyes in the ghoul’s presence. Possibilities hinted at but previously unspoken, until he’d broken the news of his impending absence. Jokingly, you’d complained about how devastatingly cold and empty the bed would be. And then you’d turned to face your lover and found him regarding you with the most curious expression.
(Or: Copia has left you in Aether's care while he's been away. Upon his return, he wants to hear exactly what the two of you have been up to.)
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Summary
Copia’s not unpopular, he knows this. His Masses are well-attended, people greet him in the halls, he’s propositioned with respectable frequency. But if it’s a stark, exclusionary, time-sensitive choice between him and the other Papas? An array of men who have years on him, multitudinous loyal followers, reputations commanding respect? Hm. It’s not going to look good with upper management if all he can muster are a few sympathy kisses from charitable Siblings after they’ve had their fill of their first pick.
(Or: Copia isn't feeling exceptionally hopeful about his shift at a Ministry-fundraiser kissing booth. He's even less hopeful about the possibility of you being in his line.)
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As reticent as he is, Secondo…enjoys you. He allows you to linger after Mass where he encourages others to go about their day, he packs his things more slowly when you do stay so he might entertain your questions. Your enquiries about his personal time don’t seem transactional, and to his retrospective regret, his tongue is looser when it’s you doing the asking. But, he thinks, perhaps that’s as far as it should go. After all, isn’t it better not to want, truly want something? Aren’t you hoisting yourself for a fall?
(Or: Secondo discovers it's your birthday and is a bit more displeased than he expects that you haven't told him.)
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You’re feeling worse about your chances by the second. This hadn’t been on your bingo card for today, but escapades with Terzo were rarely predictable. You’d been happily minding your own business at lunch when, without so much as a hello, he’d dropped into the seat opposite you and said, “Would you like to make a sexy little wager in the name of self-restraint? More specifically, would you like to see who can keep their hands off the other for the longest?”
(Or: Terzo has a hard time with a bet of his own creation.)