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He was being fitted for his new uniform when you walked into your shared chambers.
In the middle of the living room, he stood on a step stool in front of a mirror while a Sister of Sin knelt on the ground behind him pinning the hem of his trousers legs. You’d seen the woman before. She always did Copia’s tailoring, and it seemed now was no different. From your angle, the uniform looked similar to the black suits he wore as a cardinal—sleek, soft, and formfitting. You took the time to run your eyes over his backside, admiring the dips and curves that the fabric seemed to cling to before realizing that Copia’s eyes were on you in the mirror.
“Do you like what you see, il mio tesoro?” He asked, turning his head slightly to look at you.
You walked forward and around the stepstool to his front and gasped audibly. His uniform was tailored to perfection. The black, sparkling clerical collar sat at the base of his throat. On the sharply pointed lapels of his jacket were large rubies surrounded by small, gleaming onyx gems. The chains that hung from them led to an onyx-encrusted grucifix with a small ruby pendant hanging from the bottom. It was different from anything he wore before, but you could see the subtle nods to his prior outfits.
“Oh my god,” you said. You looked him up and down and marveled over the magnificent man in front of you. “You look amazing!”
A slight blush crossed his cheeks as he looked down at you. “Thank you, amore,” he said looking back at himself in the mirror. “It’s quite different from what I wore as Papa. But also not…” He was silent for a moment—lost deep in his own thoughts. You knew he replayed the events that led him here. You were at the hotel waiting for him to finish the show the night Sister Imperator passed. Swiss called you to tell you what happened and how you needed to get down to the venue right away. You knew you’d never forget how he looked when you found him sitting on a bench behind the Forum. He was still in shock; his paints streaked and smeared from crying and his red sparkling jacket was discarded on the seat next to him. Your heart broke for him. What should have been the best night of his life had become the worst.
He told you about the letter Sister left him that named him head of the clergy. It wasn’t what he wanted though. You knew if he could continue on as Papa he would, but Copia had come to terms that his time on stage was over and that his purpose was now to help bring the dawn of the new era for the Ministry. You watched as he shifted his weight nervously on the stool and you felt your heartbreak for him all over again.
“Sorella, can you give us a minute?” Copia asked as the sister returned her pins to the pin cushion on her wrist.
“No problem Pa—I mean Frater,” she said. Her face flushed slightly from the accidental slip-up. She bowed her head and walked out the front door of the apartment.
Once the door had closed with a soft click, Copia carefully stepped off the stool and sighed. “I can’t do this,” he confessed.
“What are you talking about?” You asked brow furrowed with concern.
“This,” he said, gesturing to his outfit and sighing. “I can’t lead the clergy. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m an entertainer. I’m a singer. I can’t do what she did.”
“Baby,” you said gently as you stepped closer and cupped his face between your hands. His painted eyes were downcast and there was a slight tremble to his lip. “You can do this. I know change is scary. All this is scary for me too, but change is inevitable. We all must go through it. You, me, the whole ministry, and all the Ghost fans—We are all experiencing this change together. You are not alone in this, I promise. I will be at your side through it all. If Sister…If your mother didn’t believe you could do this she wouldn’t have named you Frater Imperator.”
“Sì, I know,” he sighed. “Can’t blame a guy for being nervous though.”
“I know, I know,” you replied. Your hands left his cheeks and smoothed the lapels of his jacket. “If it helps, you look hot as fuck in the new uniform though.”
Copia chuckled as his arms encircled you and pulled you closer. “Thank you, amore. It does help.” He pressed a kiss to your lips, the paint of his upper lip now smeared slightly. His hands ran down your sides before they came to rest on your hips. “Wanna show me how hot this getup makes me?” He smirked.
You couldn’t help but smile as every filthy thought crossed your mind. You looked him up and down, noticing the growing bulge in his already tight pants. “I would, but we probably shouldn’t ruin these clothes just yet. They’re not even officially done,” you said as you glanced down at the colorful pins lining the fabric around his ankles. “I don’t want to mess up all that poor sister’s hard work.”
He let out an exergated groan. “Fine,” he said before he smiled at you. “But you owe me. I need to celebrate becoming Frater somehow.”
“Oh once this is finished and you have a spare set, I fully plan on letting you bend me over the closest surface and ravish me while wearing this.” You smiled and leaned up to kiss him. “Come on, let’s get this fitting finished up. I have a couple ideas of how we can celebrate once you’re done.”