Work Text:
„I do not want to see Tedesco as pope“. The words spoken to Benitez were the mantra Lawrence had lived and breathed these last few days. Not Tedesco. Anyone but Tedesco. There were moments where it didn’t even matter, who, where he was willing to compromise his moral integrity by voting for Tremblay even. Just not him.
And they won. The result being more than a compromise, more than he or Aldo could have hoped for. The result being Benitez, good and gentle Benitez, who had just been announced as Pope Innocent XIV. to the cheering masses of believers.
Lawrence wandered the now empty halls of the Casa Santa Marta. Just a few hours ago it was bustling, the cardinals leaving as quickly as they arrived, off to their congregations and duties. The oppressive spell from these last few days was lifted, although Lawrence supposed this had more to do with the natural light finally being allowed to shine through the previously shuttered windows.
He made his way past the rooms, chancing one last look into each of them, a need for closure to the emotional turmoil of conclave disguised as thoroughness.
The silence was broken by the sound of footsteps coming from a room Lawrence never stepped foot in, never needed to. He knew whose room it was, had followed his movements closely, had kept an eye on him so that he would never surprise him or the people close to him. Anyone but him.
As if out of habit, Lawrence followed the sound until he reached the open door. Inside, by the window, he saw a different man than the one he had seen these last few days, these last few years even. Tedesco looked deep in thought, defeated. He hit his vape occasionally by the open window.
„You know, I don’t think it’s technically allowed to smoke in here,“ Lawrence couldn’t help but comment. He also couldn’t help the glee that was evident in his words, finally having the high ground after the desperate struggle against this smug, horrible man, so full of the certainty he had condemned in his homily. Tedesco, who was never once filled with doubt, who would have gladly ruled the church with his iron fist, and who, when they locked eyes on that first day of conclave, had inspired Lawrence to break his carefully crafted semblance of diplomacy and give an entirely different sermon than the one he had prepared.
Tedesco, who for once didn’t seem angered or even agitated at a snide remark.
He approached Lawrence with slow, deliberate steps, his face never breaking the stoic facade or eye contact, not stopping until he was way too close for Lawrence‘s comfort. Lawrence refused to back down now. He was filled with a triumph that was so unlike him, but it felt good. Seeing this smug man dropping his proud head in the Sistine Chapel after being thoroughly defeated by him, by Lawrence. He did this.
Tedesco lifted his vape again slowly, his unnervingly calculating eyes never leaving Lawrence‘s, as he took another hit. Aggravation itched under Lawrence‘s skin as he saw the challenge in Tedesco‘s eyes, that vape sitting in his mouth as if Tedesco had chosen it specifically to annoy him instead of smoking cigarettes like a normal person.
A cloud of berry-scented smoke hit Lawrence‘s face before he understood what was happening. The berry scent that surrounded Tedesco wherever he went and that announced his arrival even before you could see him. Only this time it was much closer than Lawrence had ever thought he would be able to smell it. It was warmer, almost comfortable being enveloped in it, tangled with a more complex smell that Lawrence had never noticed before but realized that it must be Tedesco‘s breath. Had he any logical capabilities in this moment, he would have taken a step back or waved the smoke away. Later he would tell himself that he had been exhausted, overwhelmed. Whatever the reason, instead of escaping it he breathed in the heady mix of smells like he couldn’t help himself, feeling his eyes almost flutter close with overwhelm and something else he couldn’t quite name. He came to his senses only a fragment of a second later as the smoke cleared enough to reveal a set of whiskey eyes staring at him, half in disbelief, half in an emotion he couldn’t decipher.
For a moment, there was silence. „Decano Lawrence,“ if he didn’t know better, he would have almost believed the words were spoken with reverence. „I was hoping that maybe the rules would make an exception for a graceful loser, eh?“
Lawrence tried his best at the compassionate smile that had served him well in most uncomfortable situations, but he had a feeling it edged towards strained.
„Unfortunately, eminenze, the law halts for no one.“ „Ah.“ Tedesco didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest, holding eye contact like he was assessing him, giving Lawrence the chance to return the favor. Now that he looked, really looked, he could see a redness around Tedesco’s eyes he hadn’t noticed before, like he had just been crying. And Lawrence knew in that moment that Tedesco brought out the worst in him because no other crying human could ever make him feel this triumphant. He would have to find a way to atone later, once everyone was gone, once Tedesco was gone, once he could hear himself think. Lawrence tried to look away, to escape the probing red-rimmed eyes still trained on him, but instead his eyes inexplicably found their way down to Tedesco’s lips which was worse so he let his eyes immediately snap back.
„Do you ever wonder,“ Tedesco started, unusually and frighteningly calm, „if the energy we wasted fighting each other would have been better spent doing something else?“ Before Lawrence could grasp the meaning of Tedesco’s words the other man leaned away, the broad and boasting smile that had thrown Lawrence off the track so many times on his face once again. He felt more than he saw Tedesco patting his shoulder and finally exit through the door, leaving Lawrence completely on his own once again.