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Chapter Text

“Enough!” 

Pope Innocent XIV’s voice was full of its usual, soft timbre, but there was a sharp edge to it that withalled from the walls of Lawrence’s small office that lacked no inch of authority. A blush started to bloom on Bellini’s cheeks as he realised that he was still clutching the collar of Cardinal Tedesco’s cassock right in the heart of the Apostolic Palace. The soft fabric underneath his fingertips was a sharp contrast to the intensity of the situation.

Like Bellini, O’Malley and Lawrence were frozen on the spot as a result of  the Pope raising his voice. Only the man mere inches in front of Aldo seemed to need a moment to understand what was happening. Tedesco had his eyes narrowed and his teeth barred at the Secretary of State still, his raging breath loud and warm in the small space between them. 

Losing themselves in their arguments was not unusual for their heated dynamic, but today it had taken a new level of personal, and even physical, edge to it. Bellini figured that this was due to them having been in constant confrontation over the last few days. Ever since Tedesco had actually accepted the Pope’s offer to extend his stay at the Vatican after their last synodal council, Bellini had not had a day without the Patriarch shouting in his face. 

That had been no excuse to grab the other, however. Hot shame floated his body as he admitted to himself that Tedesco had succeeded at provoking him until he had actually lashed out. He had been the first one to get physical between them. He couldn’t even remember what the other had said that had caused him to reach out. To be this age, and still not know yourself. He would have to extend his confessions this week. 

He felt the other Cardinal’s heated breath on his face, as he awkwardly let go of Tedesco's collar. He was suddenly all too aware of everyone’s eyes on them. Only his movement seemed to stir the other man, as the  Patriarch of Venice finally backed down from his personal space. Tedesco ran a hand over his cassock to straighten the fabric where Bellini’s fingers had clenched a second before.

Aldo was avoiding everyone's gaze as he realised how unprofessional he had been. It had never been different between them, only Goffredo Tedesco held that particular power over him. He had always been ashamed of how quickly he lost his temper around the other man. 

He had worked all his life to build his reputation at the Curia, his standing as a composed intellectual inside the Vatican. How typical it was that Tedesco loved to bring him to the edge, to pretend as though he held the upper hand, in reputation, in questions of belief, in support in the church . He liked to push on and on, until Aldo could not prevent himself from snapping out anymore. 

That was how Tedesco presented himself, the oh so mighty Patriarch of Venice, superior to almost everyone, but especially to Bellini, a liberal Lion incarnate, as he liked to mock him.  He shaped the image of the two of them as opposite sides, the left and right hand of Mother Church, and more often than not Aldo had to admit that he was trapped in the roles that Tedesco had determined for them. 

Everyone seemed to be at loss for words, or rather, waiting for the Pope to continue. For a ridiculous second Aldo felt something like satisfaction at the knowledge that Pope Innocent held an authority so easily that even Tedesco could not break it with his ego. 

“I have been trying to be patient with the two of you, and held faith that you would overcome your differences for the sake of our cause,” Innocent continued. “I hold that faith still, but I was informed that your constant disputes have not gone unnoticed.” 

Out of the corner of his eyes Aldo could see Ray nodding his head in agreement. 

“It was strongly suggested to me that measures should be taken in order to ensure that our public image of unity will not be disturbed.”

Aldo found that he couldn’t argue against that, and was instead trying to calm his still racing heart. Would that be the end of his career in the inner circle of the Curia? Apparently Tedesco had finally managed to get him in real trouble.  It was quite ironic that this would probably include his own doom as well. Different sides, but on the same coin after all. 

“However, I’m happy to tell you that I have just the fitting measure for you two,” Aldo finally raised his gaze and had to take a double take to see the Pope smiling. Innocent seemed to be enjoying how they were waiting in suspense.  

“You will  be going on a short Monastery Break together to finally settle your differences once and for all. It’ll do you good to have time together to reflect, pray and start seeing eye to eye. I am sure of it”. 

Aldo felt as though the ground underneath his feet was suddenly giving in. Surely that was a ridiculous joke that the Holy Father had offered? A gentle but unserious treat to get them to stop fighting?

Just a joke, right? 

While his mind was trying to find a loophole in this, his stomach dropped.

It came natural to Aldo to look at Thomas as an anchor. His old friend would calm everything down. As he caught Thomas’ gaze however, he realised that no one was actually joking. The Dean offered him a serious , but pitiful smile, as though he was trying to cheer him up. So he had known about that all. Traitor.  

Still in disbelief he turned his head to stare at his opponent again, expecting the other to start a loud round of protest, flying gestures and everything. But Tedesco seemed to be at a loss for words as well. Then, he caught Aldo’s gaze again and the Patriach’s eyes seemed to darken instantly. His mouth turned into a dangerous, wolfish grin. 

“Bene, I’d love to invite il Segretario over to Venezia.” 

He dropped his voice to a low whisper, so that only Aldo would be able to hear it.  “This Liberal Lion would fit right into the scenery at the Patriarchal Cathedral, completing il Leone di San Marco made of stone." 

Before Bellini had a chance to react, Ray stepped forward. He looked afraid that they would start fighting again. 

“No, we thought neutral ground would be a good idea,” he said and presented a stack of paper.

You were just waiting for us to get to each other’s throats, Aldo realised. 

This wasn’t a spontaneous idea. Getting them together in the office to discuss the role of women in the church, which had led to Tedesco mocking ‘the fairer sex’ and Aldo’s hands on his collar, had not been a coincidence or misfortune. 

They’ve been conspiring against us.  

“The former Monastery ‘Abbazia di Santa Lumera’, just outside Florence. It’s not consecrated anymore, but functions as a home for people searching for shelter from their busy lives. We booked everything in advance, and I’d advise you to go in civilian clothes in order to not raise too much unwanted attention.” 

Aldo bit his lip, hoping he would wake up from this nightmare. This could not be happening, it was a ridiculous idea. He opened his mouth to argue that this was an unnecessary take of risks. 

“With all due respect, your Holiness,” he started, but the Pope raised a hand and smiled in his peculiar gentle way. 

“I heard they also offer Yoga sessions,” Innocent mentioned in a tone that implied that he greatly enjoyed the prospect of his Secretary of State and the Patriach of Venice doing Asanas to get along. 

“Ray,” Aldo pledged, but O’Malley was staring him down like a parent disappointed with their child.

“Thomas,” he tried, but Lawrence was merely shaking his head in sympathy. 

“Mah, don’t you worry, it will be fun,” the man to his right growled. 

He couldn’t believe that Tedesco seemed to be unaffected by the promise of going on a vacation with him of all people. He managed to hold the challenging gaze of the Patriarch for a second longer, but felt heat rising to his cheeks at the other’s vile smirk. 

“Excuse me,” Aldo mumbled, and gave a quick nod to his Holiness. Then, he turned and flew from the scene, scolding himself for his uncharacteristic avoidance of conflict. 

Ray’s voice was the last thing he heard before closing the door behind him: “Be ready in the morning, you’ll be leaving then!”

   *

It had been merely an hour before Bellini’s peace was disturbed again by the doorbell of his apartment ringing. It had not really been peace in a literal sense, however.  He had been pacing around his bedroom for the most time, like a caged Lion, while pretending as though he had not received the detailed information regarding the journey that Ray had texted him.

Aldo hurried to open the door, already knowing that there was likely only one man who had taken the route from the Vatican to this Trastvere neighborhood. Sure enough, he was faced with Lawrence who offered him a careful smile. 

“May I come in?” the Dean asked. Aldo shrugged and ushered him inside. 

“Are you here to gloat in my misery?” he answered and avoided directing his guest towards his living room. He would surely not offer him a wine and snack this time around. Instead Lawrence followed him to the high wardrobe capturing half of his bedroom. There he had avoided packing his clothes for the past hour. 

“Aldo, don’t be ridiculous” Thomas said and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

“Don’t play coy with me, you knew about everything in advance. Did Ray scheme that plan, or was it your plan all along? ” he hissed. 

“I know that you are upset, Aldo, but you’re smart enough to understand that we can’t risk you losing your temper with each other in public like that. We have to establish the public image that we are a united church under this still fresh Papacy,” Lawrence argued and Aldo hated how reasonable he sounded. 

“Stop pretending as though I’m a task that you can manage, Thomas! There is no unity in the church, no matter how often you pretend as though there is no separation in the Curia. You have still not chosen to commit to a side, as though Innocent made sides obsolete.” 

He pointed his finger at Lawrence accusingly and saw the other’s gaze harden. 

“His Holiness is leading our church Aldo, not your side or Tedesco’s side. And you have sworn obedience to this church and to him. You may question his decision in front of me, but do not doubt him in your role in the church.” 

“Don’t talk to me about obedience or your precious doubts,” Aldo hissed. “As though I would refuse an order. You know me better than that!”

He turned around and reached for his wardrobe, frantically putting various shirts and trousers into his suitcase. 

“I just don’t see the point and I wish the order would not involve… him of all people” he answered, defeated. Thomas was silent for a moment, their shared anger slowly giving way for empathy. 

“It's just a few days. I’m sure you’ll manage,” Lawrence offered. 

“You’ve seen the way he looked at me. He was enjoying the idea of having me around for days to irritate and offend.” 

As the silence stretched between them Aldo raised his gaze from his pile of clothes. Thomas looked sheepish. 

“Actually… I believe that was more of a .. show.” he started and continued at Bellini’s raised eyebrow. 

“Ray told me earlier that Tedesco cornered him in the hallways after you left. He seemed… upset and tried to pursue Ray to get out of the trip. He even offered to support some of our recent synodale agreements.” 

Aldo was speechless for a moment. 

“Well, it’s comforting to know that apparently we are capable of seeing eye to eye on some things,” he shrugged. 

Thomas approached him to rest a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It will be okay.” 

Aldo lowered his gaze. “You know why I’m afraid to spend so much time with him” he whispered, unsure if he had even been heard by the Dean. But Thomas squeezed his hand, as if in acknowledgment.

Maybe he was able to recognize some of his own struggles in the Secretary. They’ve never talked about the depth of Thomas' relationship with the pope, but unsaid did not equal denial between them. 

In the absence of a vocal answer Lawrence started to help with folding his shirts and storing them in his small suitcase. Aldo was relieved that the tension between them seemed to have passed. He would not have liked to part ways with his friend in anger. 

They worked in silence for some minutes, Aldo choosing and handing clothes from his wardrobe, Thomas dutifully storing them. It felt foreign to exclusively pack civilian clothes, but it seemed weirdly fitting for the trip. There was nothing ordinary about the coming days, after all. 

Lawrence's voice was disturbing his clouded thoughts: “Are you going to take this with you?” 

Aldo, who was currently facing the wardrobe, had to turn around in order to see the object Thomas was pointing at. It was the chess board he had inherited after the late Pope’s death. He had it placed on the maple sideboard by his bed, out of emotional, more than decorative purposes. It existed for aesthetic reasons only now, as it had not been played with ever since the evening before the holy see had been vacant. 

Aldo wanted to laugh at the idea but only managed a dry sound that burned like grief in his mouth. 

“To give him the opportunity to desecrate it?” he hissed. 

Lawrence nodded in understanding, always the diplomat, and Aldo wanted to scream. 

Instead, he took a few long strides towards his hallway to fetch his keys. He handed them over, as Thoma had already followed him. It was kind of ridiculous, as they knew that there was no use of keeping each other’s keys when they're out of Rome anymore. Aldo could easily ask his personal assistant at the Vatican to keep them safe in case of an emergency. But it had been a long established tradition between them after all. And somehow it was a reminder of their first summers at the Vatican, as personal assistants had been a not yet granted privilege. 

Only last month Thomas’ keys had been resting in this hallway after all, as the Dean had accompanied the Pope on his trip to Peru. 

“We'll keep in touch, alright?” Lawrence asked as he turned on the doorstep.

Aldo realised that his friend was talking to him like he would probably try to comfort an anxious kitten. 

“Stop being a mother hen, Thomas” he offered with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes.

“After all, how bad can a holiday with Tedesco really be? It’s not like we are both gonna get excommunicated after that time together, right?” 

Lawrence simply nodded his head in sympathy.

                                                                                                                                                               *

Sleep had not come easy that night. After turning around in bed for several hours Bellini chose to get up as soon as dawn broke. After pacing around his flat, his already packed suitcase and coat waiting for him at the door, he decided that lingering at home nervously for the inevitable start of the journey would not help his racing heart. 

Instead he decided to leave and spent some of the remaining time in the Vatican Library. Maybe hiding behind his studies would be an adequate strategy to avoid Tedesco for the coming days. If he had to wear books as his personal armour against the Patriarch's venom then it would be so. He had just chosen a handful of books to shield himself with against his opponent as Lawrence called him to meet up before his journey. 

“Slept well?” he asked as Bellini met him in front of the Portone di Bronzo. Lawrence looked well rested for once, which was suspicious, and he carried a small box with him. 

“Like a baby,” Aldo answered, not even trying to hide his sarcasm. 

“Well, I’m here to deliver his Holiness’ wishes for a pleasant stay,” Aldo almost snorted at that. “And his wish to receive a photo of you two, at least once a day.” 

Aldo shook his head in disbelief, which prompted Lawrence to go on. 

“I think he just wants to make sure the two of you have not … murdered each other” 

Maybe he should not have set up the crime scene then, Aldo thought bitterly. “The Holy Father must really be expecting miracles in the coming days, if he thinks that I’ll be able to convince Tedesco to take a selfie with me…”

“Maybe you can sneak up on him to take a photo,” Lawrence offered with a laugh. For the first time since news about their journey broke, Aldo felt like laughing along.  

“I thought, maybe that will help you pass the time,” Lawrence handed him the wooden box. “It’s not the same, but with this there’s no risk to have him desecrate what you hold dear.” 

Thomas offered him a small smile before waving him goodbye and climbing the stairs to the Apostolic Palace. 

Bellini let go of a breath he had been holding and stared at the box in his hands. It was of a dark material, likely rosewood, and heavier than it looked. He was turning it around and heard a dull clatter. Slowly he opened the lid to reveal what was inside.

Nestled together he found a small chess board and worn chess pieces. He couldn’t help the small smile forming on his face. Evidently Thomas really wanted him to take a chess board with him. He reached out and gently cradled a white knight in his hand. 

He was just  following the elegant curve of its neck with his fingers when he heard rapid footsteps approaching him. They were accompanied by the sweet and obtrusive smell of a vape cloud. 

Aldo let the knight fall back to its companions and closed the lid of the box. He granted himself a second to calm his racing heart. Then he looked up, ready to face Tedesco and what lay ahead of them. 

Chapter Text

Aldo had tried to brace himself to face Tedesco, but seeing the other Cardinal with a suitcase by his side and a sneer on his lips caused his stomach to turn nonetheless. So, they were really doing it, then.  

As requested, the man had left all signs of him being a Patriarch behind. Instead of a cassock he was dressed in jeans accompanied by a dark leather belt, and as a substitute to his usually bright red cape he had chosen a burgundy shirt with no clerical collar left in sight. Due to the sun shining down on them Tedesco had his sleeves rolled up towards his elbows, and Aldo was close enough to see the already grey hairs on his tanned skin. 

Why is he even tanned? Aldo thought, wondering if he had ever seen the other so bare before him. It must have been years, years in which his body had changed and aged without Aldo having had a chance to peek underneath the many layers of a cardinal’s cassock. And wasn’t that a weird thought to have about a man he despised? 

Apparently, he had been staring at the other’s appearance for a little too long. He quickly turned his gaze back up to meet his eyes. 

“Cat got your tongue, Eminenza?” Tedesco asked, cooking his head, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“It’s just a special occasion to not have you followed around by at least three assistants, Patriarch” Aldo answered. He would not give Tedesco the knowledge that he had been distracted by the other’s lack of formal regalia.

He felt underdressed in his own black trousers and shirt all of sudden and quickly went on: “You’re late as always. We should be lucky to catch our train now. If you even manage to not smoke for like four hours.” 

As with everything he did, Ray had already taken care of the organisation with his usual perfectionism and sent the train tickets to Aldo in advance. 

“Mah, no train,” Tedesco answered, shaking his head. “We won’t take the train, Bellini!” 

“Well I got the tickets,” Bellini shot back, already feeling ridiculous for arguing with the man. 

“No, don’t you remember how I almost arrived too late to the Conclave from Venezia?” Tedesco was eyeing him as though Aldo was crazy, gesturing with the vape in his hands, almost knocking over his own suitcase. “Trenitalia is not what it used to be, un disastro! As with everything in these times, things fall apart!” 

Aldo couldn’t help but roll his eyes at that. “Well, I’m certainly not going to walk there, so look after yourself.” 

He was ready to leave Tedesco on the spot, but the Patriarch reached out and pulled him back. Aldo groaned in frustration. 

“We're not walking, Bellini, we're driving. Well, I am driving,” he offered with a crooked smile, almost hitting Aldo with his keys as he shoved them in front of the other's face. 

Aldo questioned why he looked so triumphant, as though he had just discovered a holy relic all by himself. 

“I'm not getting into a car with you!” Aldo protested, but found himself being dragged along by an enthusiastic Patriarch. 

They passed the entrance to the Vatican City and came to a halt in front of a crowded parking spot. Knowing Tedesco Aldo was almost surprised he did not just park his car right in the middle of St. Peters square. 

“Isn't she bellissima?” Tedesco asked, gesturing at his car. Aldo had never really cared too much about driving or owning a vehicle, thus it looked like a regular, although expensive, car to him. Of course it spotted a bright red colour. 

Today was not the day to compliment the Patriarch of Venice on his oldtimer, though. 

“Good for you,” he scoffed. “But I have faith in the Italian railroads, so I'll take the train. We have plenty of time with each other during our stay anyways, we can travel separately.”

“Mah!” Tedesco shot and wiggled a disapproving finger in Aldo's face. 

“No, we're driving! What am I to tell il papa eh ? That you're mad at me already? Nah we're not children!” 

He was ready to argue with him, but Tedesco quickly got a hold of Aldo’s suitcase and lifted it, with surprising ease for his age, into the trunk of his car.. Just a second later he had maneuvered his own next to it and turned back around, looking at the box Aldo was still holding. 

“What do you have here, eh?” he asked and snatched the box from his hands, ready to open the lid. 

“Don't you dare open that, give it back,” Aldo hissed. His icy tone got Tedesco to stop, giving Aldo an opportunity to rip it from his hands. Now, they were really fighting like children, he thought. 

“Va bene,” Tedesco answered, raising his hands as though he meant no harm. “You can already get inside, Bellini.” 

As Aldo did not move he gave him a disapproving glare. “ I already got your luggage, so you might as well just come with me. I'll drive faster than your train anyways.” 

The prospect of being stuck in a car  for four hours with Tedesco did  nothing to calm his  nerves, but Aldo tried to comfort his mind.  The sooner they started  the trip the sooner the stay would be over with, after all. 

He opened the passenger door and sank into a surprisingly comfortable leather seat, placing the box on his knees. The interior of the car spotted some of Tedesco’s personal belongings,  he deduced quickly.  There was a wooden rosary dangling from the rearview mirror, a spare vape rested in the tray next to his knees and a small picture was placed next to it. 

Out of instinct Aldo leaned closer to get a better look. He could make out three people in the small picture: A man standing next to a slightly shorter woman that had her hair pinned on top of her head. She was holding a baby on her hip, who looked not much older than a year, big eyes fixed on what Aldo presumed was her mother. The man had his left arm around her shoulder, holding her close.

He wore a bright, proud smile. To Aldo it even seemed as though his eyes were glistening with joy, despite the material of the picture being worn already, indicating that it had been folded and taken around quite a lot. 

It did not take him long to make out that the man he was looking at was Tedesco, maybe some twenty five years younger than the one going on Aldo's nerves in the present. Thus the picture must have been taken maybe some years after they had first met. Tedesco had already been an established figure in the church, climbing the ranks like it had been his second nature, and Aldo had been on his first stay at the heart of the Vatican. 

Tedesco opened the driver’s door and Aldo jumped back quickly, as though he had taken a look into a part of the Patriarch’s life that he was not supposed to see. Apparently the other had not realised Aldo’s movement for he simply settled into the driver’s seat and started the engine. It sprung to life with a steady hum. 

As Tedesco checked the rear mirror and steered the car out of the parking box Aldo realised how close they were, almost pressed together in the car. The other’s shoulder almost brushed his as Tedesco did a shoulder check. That seemed to have been the only and last responsible driving action, for as soon as they went into the Roman traffic, Tedesco resembled the stereotypical Italian reckless driver. 

Aldo, who was used to maneuvering through the city by foot or taxi, held on for dear life as Tedesco did a sharp turn to the left, almost causing Aldo to fall into his lap as a result. He had barely a second to register that, before Tedesco hit the brakes, causing Aldo to almost topple into the dashboard. For better or worse he held onto the door handle, his knuckles turning white. 

“I should have known you’re a reckless driver!” he shouted over the sound of the engine. 

Tedesco shot him a glare, but there was a smirk playing around his lips. “Have faith, Bellini.” 

“I have faith in our Lord, not in your driving skills, Tedesco,” Aldo hissed back. “And by God please keep your eyes on the road,” he instructed, not a second too late. 

“Watch out!" he screamed, causing Tedesco to turn the steering wheel around, missing two pedestrians by mere inches. 

I should probably start praying for everyone’s safety , Aldo thought, as Tedesco cursed in Italian, gesturing at the pair to move ahead. 

“Merda Tourists!” he muttered. Aldo could very well picture Tedesco having a personal feud with them, especially in Venice. He was almost surprised that his car did not have a bumper sticker that read “I don’t hit the brakes for tourists”.

Aldo had a hard time deciding whether he should keep looking out for potential casualties, or rather hide his eyes behind his hands. How are we going to explain that to the Holy Fathe r, he wondered. He had expected some conflict, but not that they would probably have to endure a hit and run before even arriving at the monastery. Somehow, Tedesco managed to avoid hitting anyone for the next half an hour. 

They finally left Rome behind and entered the freeway. With no tourists on the road anymore Aldo managed to relax a bit. It was a warm day, the sun shining already high above them. Tedesco had turned up the radio, humming quietly along to an Italian song. 

Aldo glanced at the other, who was busy keeping his eyes on the road (at last). Thus Aldo allowed himself to look at the man. He looked younger, striped out of all the heavy regalia. He looked less like a Patriarch and more like an ordinary man. Not a member of the Curia, but maybe a regular guy working at the office, having a family waiting for him at home. As his mind drifted off, Aldo scolded himself for it. Tedesco, just a regular guy? 

He still held himself with a prideful stance after all, and despite being in civilian clothes Aldo would be able to recognize Tedesco’s personality anywhere. But the colour of his shirt complimented his features, he thought, and allowed his gaze to take him. Tedesco still had his sleeves rolled up, which gave Aldo a display of the hairs on his arms that he had spotted earlier, whenever he shifted gears. 

The close proximity offered Aldo to spot a golden cross on his neck that the Patriarch  obviously wore as a stand-in to his usual pectoral cross. It was small and plain but beautifully made. 

Aldo felt naked all of sudden, because he had not replaced his own pectoral cross with anything. However, he was so steadfast in his beliefs that bearing the cross on his heart was far more important than presenting it for the world to see. 

The cross fitted nicely on Tedesco’s chest however, and Aldo managed to follow the faint line of hairs starting around it downwards to where his shirt was buttoned up. He couldn’t help but wonder how fair the trail followed down the other’s body. 

Suddenly a sound pulled Aldo out of his thoughts. Tedesco had cleared his throat and was staring directly at him with a smirk on his face. 

“Distracted?” he asked and raised an eyebrow. 

Great, this was already the second time that Tedesco had caught him openly staring at him. His opponent showing more skin than usual and suddenly he was drooling like a young man? It really must have been too long without a chance to watch a handsome man, if he started to daydream about Tedesco of all people! He’s not even my type, Aldo wondered. And even if he were, anytime he’d open his mouth would be enough to ruin any interesting thoughts.. 

“Just thinking about the beautiful time we’ll have together,” Aldo spat, blushing furiously. 

“Ah, you’re still concerned about that,” Tedesco answered, his tone almost mocking. “There was no need for you to be so shocked at Innocent offering that. I’m sure we’ve both been ordered to do more uncomfortable things for the Church than having to stay in the Italian Countryside for some days.” 

“It’s just a rather unfortunate company, if you ask me,” Aldo mentioned and rolled his eyes, but Tedesco locked almost unsure of himself for a second, his eyes glued on the road.

 “And besides, don’t pretend as though you’re happy about the whole thing. After all, I know that you’ve been complaining to O’Malley after I left the meeting. You tried to get out of this as much as I did.” 

Aldo realised that his words must have struck a nerve as Tedesco clenched his teeth. It was a similar look to when he was challenged for his beliefs. 

“Careful, Bellini. You always poke your nose where it doesn’t belong,” he hissed. 

This was more like Aldo had expected their conversation during this trip to go. Tedesco had almost been too friendly to him after all. But knowing that escalating the situation further while being stuck in a car with the man would not help, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and didn’t respond. 

The silence stretched between them and Aldo tried his best not to look at Tedesco anymore, gazing out of the window instead. The further they had gotten from Rome the more rural the landscape had become, giving him a nice view over the Italian countryside. He had lived in Italy for almost three decades now, but had not really taken time off to follow the call of his own heart to the countryside. The call of the Curia to duty had always played a far bigger role in his life. 

Now that the Conclave was over, leaving his own and most of  his colleagues' ambitions ruined, Aldo had started adapting to a new role once more, his role in the Papacy of Innovent XIV. He had been almost surprised that Benitez had asked him to stay in the role of Secretary of State. They hadn’t had a good start after all, but Aldo was convinced a whole bunch of interference on Thomas’ side and his own usefulness as a tactical diplomat had worked in his favour. Now he was most likely not witnessing another Conclave in his lifetime, and with the lack of prospect he had placed his ambitions elsewhere.

To guide Innocent and influence the Curia to a new direction of the church. Make an idealistic, lasting difference. Until a new Pope came after them, ruining their work, and after that one another one. Aldo wasn’t as naive anymore  as to believe that the future of the Church was solely in the hands of the Holy Spirit; it was influenced as much by men. Men like Tedesco, who would gloat at the prospect of ruining everything Aldo stood for. After all, he stood for everything Tedesco did not. 

He was still not looking at the other man driving, and kept his gaze fixed on the trees and hills rushing by. He regretted not having gotten enough sleep the night before, as his eyelids grew heavier and the humming of the engine lulled him in. Maybe he could allow himself to close his eyes for a second, Tedesco was still mad at him after all. As he closed his eyes, sleep overran him almost immediately. 

Aldo woke with a jolt, causing the wooden box on his lap to almost topple down to his feet. He lunged forward to grab it. They were not driving anymore, and as he looked to his left the driver’s seat was empty. Tedesco was gone. 

Aldo could make out the picturesque scenery of a small village around them. The car was parked on the side of a small road that was leading down to a curve in the distance. Aldo had no idea where they were and started to wonder why Tedesco had abandoned him here of all places. 

He reached for his phone and unlocked it - mainly to search for his location, but a message caught his attention. 

Thomas (13:42): Hello Aldo, hope the train ride is going smoothly. Keep me updated if you may, Vincent would like to know when you’ve arrived “intact” as he phrased it. Thomas

Well, the train ride, Aldo thought. Instead of a train ride he was now stuck in the middle of nowhere in Tedesco’s car. He shook his head in disbelief. Had anyone told him about the situation a week ago, he would not have believed them. 

Aldo decided to check his surroundings and search for his ‘driver’ before answering Thomas. He was ready to leave the car, but suddenly the door to his left opened with a bang. Tedesco had appeared out of nowhere. 

“Scusi, that took longer than expected,” he huffed as he let himself fall into the driver’s seat again, with some difficulty, as he was holding a paperbag and a cup in both hands. “Allora, here’s a Cappuccino." 

He handed Aldo the cup, who took it with surprise. 

“You looked as though you needed it, sleeping like that,” Tedesco explained, and placed the paperbag on Aldo’s lap, right on top of the box containing the chessplay. 

“And brioche, didn’t know what you liked though. Got some plain ones and some with pistacchio.” 

Aldo stared at him, at a loss for words for a second. 

“You stopped to get me coffee and brioche?” he asked in disbelief. 

Tedesco merely shrugged and started the engine. “Can’t have you starve to death in my car. What would the Santo Padre say, eh?” 

Aldo blinked, trying to understand what was happening. He knew about the other’s fixation on food of course, and had seen his fellow colleagues, especially Thomas, been at the center of Tedesco’s persuasion to get people to eat, before. But the effort had never been directed at him before. 

“Thank you, I guess,” he offered and took a sip of his coffee, trying not to look too pleased with it. 

“That’s … how do you know how I like to drink it?” he asked and turned his head to look at Tedesco’s as he guided them back on the street and out of the small village. 

For a second it seemed to Aldo as though the other was avoiding his gaze. 

“Aren’t you known for having a good memory, Bellini?” he scoffed. “We’ve spent countless meetings with each other, of course I know how you take your coffee, any Cardinal does know, eh!” 

Aldo thought about telling him that he was pretty sure that not even more than five fellow Cardinals knew his preference, but Tedesco had raised his voice at the end and he wasn’t keen on another discussion. Instead, he took another sip of his coffee and opened the bag. The smell of freshly baked brioches clouded the car. 

Aldo chose one with pistacchio creme and held the bag out for Tedesco, who eyed him with suspicion. 

“Plain,” he answered. 

“Traditional, that was expected,” Aldo muttered under his breath, but Tedesco had heard him and grunted in approval. 

Aldo was ready to hand him the brioche, but Tedesco had both hands on the steering wheel, maneuvering them around on a curved street. For a second Aldo pictured himself holding the pastry to his mouth, his fingers trembling as the other took a bite from it.

 Instead, he cleared his throat, causing Tedesco to let go of the wheel and finally reach out with his right hand to take it. 

As was his manner with consuming food, he gulped the brioche down in mere seconds. Aldo stared at him in disbelief before taking another bit himself, taking his time to carefully taste the sweet flavour on his tongue. 

He expected them to be near their destination now, after all, they had been driving for almost three hours already. He opened his mouth to ask Tedesco, as the other reached out for his phone, trying to unlock it with one hand. 

“What are you doing?” Aldo asked, raising his brows at the sudden movement. 

“Trying to find out where exactly the monastery is,” Tedesco answered, flipping his phone in his hand. 

“You can’t be on your phone while driving!” Aldo hissed, fearing for his life in Tedesco’s car again. That would be the second time that day already. 

“Watch me, I can,” Tedesco mumbled, eyeing the phone in his hand and not the street in front of them anymore, 

“No, you give that to me!” Aldo hissed and lunged forward, quickly snatching the phone out of the other’s hand. 

“Bellini, give that back!” Tedesco roared, almost pulling on the wheel as he tried to get his phone back. 

“No, you’re driving, I’ll give directions!” Aldo ordered in his best authoritative voice, that he only ever used whenever he really had to pull off the Secretary of State to someone. 

To his surprise, it worked wonders on Tedesco, who huffed but kept his eyes on the road again. 

The phone in Aldo's hands was clad in a red phone case, which almost caused him to roll his eyes. He had to give it to Tedesco to keep up with the colourcoding. Apparently he'd managed to unlock the phone during their banter, for Aldo starred at his homescreen. 

It showed Tedesco, wearing a plain shirt and smiling at the camera, his face close to a woman taking the selfie. Dark curls framed her face and the smile she gave challenged the one on Tedesco’s face in its brightness. Aldo had rarely, if ever, seen Tedesco smile like that. Judging on the background the pic had likely been taken in Venice. 

Aldo raised an eyebrow. Who was this young woman? And why was she so close to Tedesco, that he chose a selfie with her as his phone background? 

He was not given a chance to dwell on this thought though, because Tedesco cleared his throat. 

“You were very keen on giving directions, now give them to me, Bellini:” 

Aldo sighed and followed the instructions by Tedesco, opening an app and waiting for the route to appear on the screen. 

“Okay, we’ll have to exit on the right now,” he mentioned. 

“Nah,” Tedesco answered, but kept his eyes on the road. 

“What do you mean ‘nah’?” Aldo asked, giving a rather fine impression of the other’s voice. 

“I don’t think that’s right,” Tedesco offered, as though that explained anything. 

“You just wanted to search for directions yourself and now you think that you know the way?” 

“I don’t know the way, but I feel that’s not correct, basta,” Tedesco answered without missing a beat. 

Aldo tried his best not to raise his arms in frustration. “You can’t be serious! Well, if you don’t listen to me maybe you’ll listen to the navigation system” he scuffed and activated the audio directions. 

A female sounding voice told them to take a turn to the right on the next crossroad. 

“Mah, she’s wrong sometimes too,” Tedesco hissed. 

“She?” Aldo shot back, picturing how many times the other had had fights with his navigation app before. He could almost imagine how annoyed Tedesco would be with a system giving instructions in Aldo’s voice. Maybe that was going to be a prank that Ray could help him with, in case Tedesco was really going to be a pain in the ass during the stay. 

“Now, can you please just follow ‘her’ anyways,” he offered in a slow voice, feeling as though he was talking to a child and not to the Patriarch of Venice. “I’d like to arrive at the place before it gets dark, thank you very much.” 

As though he had to prove a point, Tedesco immediately turned left instead. 

"Really? Are you serious?” Aldo asked, scolding himself. He’d almost been fooled by Tedesco’s nice gesture in bringing him brioche, allowing himself for a moment to believe that maybe, just maybe, the stay wouldn’t be as bad. 

Fast forward almost half an hour later, with Tedesco still ignoring anything the navigation or Aldo had offered, and still no monastery in sight, Aldo was fighting the crushing urge to strangle the other Cardinal. 

To focus on something other than murder, he reached for his own phone. He opened his messages with Lawrence  and typed his reply. 

Tedesco insisted on driving us. Call me insane but I actually got into a car with him. Still unsure if we’ll ever arrive though. If we’re never seen again, blame it on the Pope.

That was maybe a bit harsh, Bellini thought, but he had still not forgiven Innocent, Lawrence and O’Malley for getting him into his current situation. Just as he had pressed send however, Tedesco grunted in approval next to him. 

“Allora, we’re almost there,” he spoke, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips. 

“That’s not,” Aldo started, but as he eyed Tedesco’s phone he realised that it was indeed only a short way down the path now. They had left the last village behind them long ago,, and drove on a road flanked by slender trees. 

“How did you manage that?” he asked Tedesco, not able to hide the amazement in his voice. Of course, the other beamed at his confusion. 

“Maybe it’s a sign that you should learn to trust me, Bellini, and follow my lead,” he chuckled. 

Aldo tried to not give him anymore satisfaction, as his enormous ego most certainly did not need anymore of it, and took in their surroundings instead. They drove on a narrow path past an iron gate that opened into a wide green landscape. In front of them the former monastery stood on a tiny hill, its sandstone bricks and red roofs a sharp contrast in the green park surrounding it. 

Aldo could make out colourful dots in the distance, wildflowers that formed a garden on the south side of the monastery, and neatly laid out rows of vegetable patches behind it. They followed the path around the chapel and came to a halt on a parking lot in front of a building that was most likely the guesthouse. There were a handful of cars already parked there, thus Aldo deduced that they were not alone on their stay. 

“Prego,” Tedesco offered and got out of the car. 

Aldo followed suit, clutching the box containing the chessplay to his chest like an expensive relic. As they approached the red wooden door and climbed the small stairs to the entrance, Aldo turned around. He had to admit that it was indeed a beautiful location for a holiday, almost too picturesque. He could picture himself having a restorative stay here - were it not for his companion, who had started to vape again. 

Out of the corner of his vision Aldo spotted a white ball of fur. He squinted his eyes and could make out a cat on the wall in the distance, staring at him with an intense gaze. 

“Are you going to stay frozen to the spot, Bellini?” Tedesco huffed, taking Aldo out of his thoughts. He quickly followed the other, who had already opened the door. 

They found themselves in an entrance hall that opened into the garden area. It was lined with bookshelves and armchairs. Aldo was ready to take it all in, but Tedesco had already approached the counter on the left side, pressing on the bell like his life depended on it. Rude.  

They spent an awkward moment next to each other in silence. Whenever he arrived somewhere foreign to him Aldo thought back on his first time abroad in Milan. How anxious he had been to see his apartment, to meet his fellow colleagues. Now he simply hoped that he could rest and have some time away from Tedesco, on his own. 

The door behind the counter opened suddenly, causing both of them to jump on the spot. A woman appeared, wearing a blue skirt, green blouse and a wide smile. She had her hair tied up in a bun and looked almost three decades younger than them. 

“Buongiorno,” she offered in a gentle voice. 

Aldo waited for Tedesco to make a move, but the other only stared at him in expectation. 

“Buongiorno,” Aldo answered, trying his best to hide the annoyance about Tedesco in his voice. “I believe my colleague booked rooms for us. My name’s Aldo Bellini and this,” he took a look at the man next to him who was fidgeting with his vape, “is Goffredo Tedesco.” 

The woman nodded. “I’m Francesca. We’ve been expecting you two,” she opened a cupboard to her right and held out a bunch of keys to Aldo. 

“Those are the keys to your apartment and to the main entrance. The chapel’s usually open, so you can have a moment of peace there whenever you feel like it. Unfortunately, smoking is not allowed indoors,” she explained with a look at Tedesco’s vape. Aldo almost laughed out loud at the smile vanishing from the Patriarch’s face. 

“I’d advise you to take a look at your apartment first, get yourself comfortable. Just follow the corridor behind you up the spiral staircase, it’s the first one on the left. I’ll get you some coffee and information about your stay and our daily program ready, alright?” 

Aldo nodded along and thanked her before he turned around with Tedesco on his heels. Francesca had spoken about one apartment, so he really had to share more than he was comfortable with with the Patriarch. Thinking about the devil, Tedesco grabbed his shoulder. 

“I’ll get the luggage,” he said. “You don’t look as though you’ll manage to carry it up anywhere.” 

Aldo rolled his eyes. He was sure that Tedesco had mostly offered this to have an excuse to vape outside in peace. 

As the other had left he followed the corridor and climbed the staircase. It led to another corridor on the first floor that was accompanied by windows on its right and doors on its left side. 

Aldo approached the first door and unlocked it. He entered an apartment that combined the charm of the old walls with modern equipment. Aldo was pleasantly surprised to find a kitchen connected to the living room. He placed the wooden box on the counter and looked around. Between the kitchen and the living room stood a dining table, big enough for two, followed by a couch and an armchair. There were paintings on the wall showing various saints, maybe remnants of the former monastery, Aldo mused.He decided to take a closer look at them later, and entered a hallway leading down from the living room.

There were two doors on either side, most likely the bedrooms. Aldo opened the one on the right, and found himself in a bathroom, excited to see a bathtub at the end of it. He was used to taking quick showers in his own apartment before work and looked forward to indulging himself in a bath for a change. 

As he closed the bathroom again, Aldo frowned. There was only one door left now. Maybe the room behind it led to another one? He opened the door nervously. It was indeed a bedroom. But there was no other room in sight. 

Aldo felt his heart skip a beat. This can not be happening, he thought. Why is he testing me in this way? 

He heard heavy footsteps on the spiral staircase behind him, but he was unable to move. Tedesco called out his name, and as he didn’t answer, the footsteps came closer. 

Oh, he’s so not going to like that, Aldo thought bitterly. 

There was only one bed. 

Chapter Text

“Mah, Bellini?” Tedesco called from the living room, apparently having arrived with their luggage. 

Aldo remained frozen on the spot and closed his eyes. Maybe he could pretend as though he was not really there. Maybe he could even pretend to sleep, and he would wake up refreshed and with the knowledge that everything had just been a terrible, insane dream. Closing his eyes did not work however, as he was still able to feel Tedesco’s presence behind him, who was right behind him, facing the  bedroom now. 

Aldo waited for an outburst, but the other was uncharacteristically quiet. Not that Aldo could blame him, he himself was at a loss for words. He finally opened his eyes, just as Tedesco spoke up. 

“Where’s the other bedroom, Bellini?” 

Bedroom is a rich description, Aldo thought, as the apartment demonstrated a modern spatial concept with the living room merging into the bedroom, no door in sight. And no privacy, for the matter. 

“I think that’s the only bedroom in this apartment,” he answered, mouth dry. 

It didn’t help that the bed looked exactly like one that was clearly designed as a double bed, although it was rather narrow. There were two comfortable looking pillows, but, as Aldo realised to his horror, only one wide bedsheet. 

He was still trying to avoid Tedesco by doing his best impression of a hatstand, frozen to the spot. Even though he had to admit to himself that he wasn't brave in doing so. He was still expecting one of his well feared outrages, that usually consisted of a rush of Italian words and intense gestures. Instead, Tedesco sounded almost calm. 

“Bene, I’ll take care of it. They’ll get you another room,” he answered, and exited the way he came from.

Aldo took a deep breath. This will be fine , he reminded himself. They just got mixed up with the reservation, and it would probably take Tedesco just a second to appear with another key in hand.

Having calmed down a bit he turned around and went back to the living room area. Tedesco had placed their luggages next to each other on the vintage-looking carpet. They seemed to be a manifestation of their personalities, Tedesco’s was huge and apparently packed with various things, while his own was sleek and black and entirely lacking personality from the outside. 

He wanted to unpack his things as quickly as possible, to create a sparse feeling of belonging somewhere by placing his belongings around the apartment. But with the likely possible outcome that he would have to move to another room anyways, there was hardly a need.

He considered to wander around the grounds of the monastery for a bit to get to know the place better, as he heard an angry, familiar shout from downstairs. Aldo sighed. He had been at the receiving end of one of those shouts just weeks ago during the latest Synod, as Tedesco had yelled at him over daring to question his arguments during one of their frequent disputes. 

Feeling the need to intervene, Aldo followed the staircase down again, already hearing Tedesco’s loud voice. Apparently getting another apartment wasn’t as easy as he had made it seem.

“What do you mean, booked out?” Tedesco roared as Aldo arrived at the reception.

“It's the only apartment available, unfortunately. I’m sorry it is not to your liking,” Francesca looked seriously concerned, but she stood her ground against a screaming Tedesco who was leaning over the counter. Aldo had to give her credit for that, he had seen fellow Cardinals more intimidated by the Patriarch. 

“There’s not even a couch to sleep on!” Tedesco underlined his words with broad hand gestures. “There must have been a mistake!” 

Franscesca turned around and checked the calendar behind her. “I’m sorry, but everything is how your colleague, ehm…, O’Malley booked it for you.”

She turned around again and looked seriously remorseful.  

"I'm sorry, there's nothing I can offer in that case. I'm afraid the shops around here will be closed by now too, in case you want to get an air mattress…” 

“Air mattress?” Tedesco’s voice got even louder now. “Do you even know who we are, Signora? We are Ca-” 

“Tedesco, enough,” Bellini had moved in an instant, grabbing the other's arm and surprising himself by his quick interference.  His voice was calm but determined. He would not let Tedesco blow their cover out of rage. 

He almost expected Tedesco to break free of his grip, screaming “Non mi toccare!”, as he usually reacted to another's touch. Instead, he looked at him with wide eyes but kept still, his breathing calming down. That gave Aldo a moment to wonder why his touch seemed to relax the Patriarch. 

“Thank you for checking it again, Francesca, don’t worry,” he offered her a smile and she seemed to accept it happily, apparently glad that Tedesco’s attention was on someone else now. Aldo couldn’t blame her, after all he knew how it felt to be at the receiving end of his rage. Tedesco was still staring at him, pliable in his grip. 

Challenging his luck Aldo pulled on the other’s arm and guided him back towards the entrance to ease the confrontation. To his surprise he followed along. 

“Bellini, this is not to our standard!” Tedesco finally hissed and stepped back. “You’ll have to get us another room!” 

Aldo sighed and shook his head: “You heard her, there is no room available. We’ll have to manage.” 

Tedesco looked as though he wanted to go on, so his mind came up with a terrible joke to ease the mood: “It’ll be just like back then in seminary.” Aldo cringed as soon as the words had left his own mouth. 

He stared down instantly. “I don’t know where you went to Seminary, Bellini, but I was finished with it before you even started.”

Aldo opened his mouth to respond, but Tedesco stopped him with a wave of the vape in his hand. 

“And as I am indeed older, I am taking the bed.” 

His voice left no room for discussion, and he gave no opportunity for it, as he turned around immediately and left Aldo in the corridor. He watched him go, presumably to vape outside again. 

Aldo stood still and realised that his fingers were trembling. He had tried to play it off in front of a raging Tedesco, but he was not ready to face the reality of their situation. He had expected to get a limited amount of privacy when they had left Rom, at least a room of his own. They were both old, stubborn men after all, and Aldo valued his routine over a lot these days. Spending a week in that close proximity with another person was nervewrecking to him. Especially if that person was Cardinal Tedesco. 

Aldo still remembered the unpleasant conversation he’d had with Lawrence on the night before their departure. He had complained about having to stay with Tedesco of all people, and through his silent plea he had almost seen a flash of understanding behind Thomas' eyes. After all, his close friend was no stranger to forbidding himself any emotions or earthly desires. 

Maybe, Aldo would simply have to play his usual game, follow his usual strategy. Hide behind his intellect, bury his heart behind a quick wit and disguise his self hatred and anger in a heavy amount of sarcasm. 

He was the highest diplomat of the Holy Sea after all. He would use his abilities not to maneuver a political conflict this time, but a Patriarch in the bedroom.

Another sound of approaching footsteps pulled Aldo from his thoughts again. In contrast to Tedesco’s loud stamping, those were quick and symmetric steps. He turned around and spotted Francesca, who offered him a gentle smile. 

“Do you want to come to dinner with us, Signore?” she asked, balancing a tray with carafes of water on her hip. 

“Yes, thank you. And please, call me Aldo,” he offered her a smile in return, even though he didn’t really feel like it. This was not her fault however, and he wanted to make it up to her.

“And I am sorry about the situation earlier. Please don’t take it to heart, he can be a bit …” he searched for the right word. “Difficult at times.” 

Francesca’s eyes shone with sympathy. “Well, the honeymoon-phase can’t last forever, right?” 

Aldo raised his eyebrow and wanted to elaborate, but she’d turned around again. 

An interesting way to phrase it, he thought and followed her. 

“We’re eating outside in the summertime, I hope that’s alright with you. We offer breakfast, Soup at Lunch and Dinner in the evening. You are free to join us, but you can also cook your own meals in your apartment. Just let me know.” She led them through the entrance hall and down a narrow threshold that opened up into the garden. 

Of course it wasn’t as dimensional as the Vatican Gardens, but it’s simply beauty stuck Bellini nonetheless. Bordered by boxwoods, birches, and slender fruit trees, the garden featured a circular area in which several dining tables were set up on light gravel. Sandstone walls lined the circle, giving the space a cozy feel. Rosebushes in red, pink, and yellow were in full bloom. Several tables were already occupied by guests who were chatting along under the evening sun.

A pair of piercing blue eyes caught Aldo’s attention. It was the white fluffy cat he had spotted earlier. She seemed to be staring at him specifically, before she jumped down the wall and disappeared from his view. 

Francesca offered him a small table for two on the right. Bellini half expected Tedesco to arrive as well, but he did not show up, which was very unlike the Patraich. No matter how stressful a situation could get, Tedesco had always been one of the first at the dining table and the last to leave, even during the Conclave. 

Now however, there was no trace of him. Aldo tried not to dwell on why that could be. Instead, he tried to fill his own stomach with Risotto and bread that seemed to be the menu for that evening. It was surprisingly good, but he didn’t manage to eat a lot on his anxious stomach, poking the mushrooms with his fork instead.

Gosh, how old was he, that sharing rooms with a man made his head spin. Fifteen?, he scolded himself and tried to change his focus to something else.

So he occupied his mind with watching the fellow guests at the monastery. There were a few couples that seemed to be having a good time sharing the meal. Francesca was laughing along to a man next to her - her husband, maybe? - but always had an eye out in case she could help with anything. 

Two little children and their parents were eating next to him, their laughter starting to ease his worried mind for a moment. On the table to his left he spotted two young men engaged in deep conversation. The taller one had blonde hair, tanned skin and a handsome smile that he offered frequently while tending to his risotto. The other wore a blue shirt, black glasses and seemed to lead their conversation ahead, gesturing along. His dark, slightly curled hair reminded Aldo of himself for a second. He tried not to dwell on a past long gone, as a certain melancholy seemed to trap him whenever he pondered on opportunities long lost.

Thus he kept to himself, still wondering if Tedesco would skip dinner all together. Aldo, feeling annoyed and maybe searching for someone to blame in their current situation, grabbed his phone. 

You were right about it being a beautiful place. But A) we only have one apartment and one bed and B) Apparently no mistake has been made, O’Malley booked a singular bedroom. How curious, don’t you think? 

Aldo had put his plate away by the time the reply came. 

Thomas: As you know Aldo, with the current financial situation, bell-tightening-measures have to take place everywhere… 

He stared at the screen, groaned in frustration and got back inside.  

Aldo considered getting some work done by the time he climbed the stairs back up to the second floor, after all, this spontaneous trip disturbed his working schedule quite a bit. 

As he passed the threshold to the corridor however, he spotted a figure through one of the windows outside. It had gotten dark, but he managed to make out the silhouette of Tedesco, sitting on one of the stonewalls next to where they had parked the car.

He had one arm pressed close to his body, probably tendering to his vape, but the other one was stretched to the side, petting a fluffy shape sitting next to him.

Despite the darkness Aldo could tell that it was the white cat that he’d seen earlier.  Apparently, Tedesco had made a friend already. More than you can say for yourself, he scoffed. Getting a cat, getting the bed - the distribution on their trip seemed to be unfair so far to Aldo. 

There was movement next to the bushes behind them and Aldo caught the reflection of a pair of bright eyes, probably another cat, staring at the pair just like he did from beyond the parking lot, its tail swaying from side to side in a distressed motion. You and me both , Aldo thought. You and me both. 

He entered their apartment for the second time that day and did the bare minimum of unpacking - after all, he would have to find another place to stay, or at least another bed, tomorrow anyways.

He did a quick job of getting ready in the bathroom and returned to the living room, in his pajama pants and a t-shirt. After all, if Tedesco persisted on him sleeping in an armchair, he would have to deal with seeing him out of his formal attire. 

Aldo cursed the design of the apartment as he settled into the armchair, a sparse blanket over his lap. With the kitchen corner, the living-room  and the bedroom being connected in an open space that formed the flat the lacking of doors resulted in him having a great view on the comfortable looking bed that was denied for him. 

It’s just for one night , he told himself as he tried to settle more comfortably into the armchair, his neck already burning. O’Malley will pay for my physiotherapist-appointment , he thought with a hint of satisfaction, opening the book resting on his lap: Belief or Nonbelief - a Confrontation.

He had wanted to find the time to read the book for quite some time now, and as he expected a restless night ahead it seemed that the moment to tend to it had finally come. Just as he had started to really dig into the discussion a few pages in, the door of the apartment burst open. Tedesco arrived in a cloud of artificial smell and white cat hairs clinging to his jeans. 

Tedesco did not acknowledge him as Aldo looked up from the page, making a direct way into the bathroom instead. Even though he obviously did not want to talk to him, Tedesco was loud in his actions nonetheless. Aldo tried to ignore the sounds of the shower turning on, replaced by the steady sound of an electric razor moving over skin a moment later. He had read the same sentence for the fourth time, without being present enough to understand its meaning, as Tedesco opened the bathroom door with a bang.

At least he’s wearing something, Aldo thought as he caught a glimpse of a red - of course - silk pyjama. He forced his eyes to focus on the page again, but the black letters merged in front of him as he heard Tedesco fumbling with his phone on the nightstand and moved the blanket to get into bed. 

After a moment of silence Aldo dared to raise his eyes again. Tedesco was laying in bed with his back turned to him, his grey curls a stark contrast to the blue bedsheet and the red silk of his shirt. His side rose and fell steady with his breathing - did he fall asleep already? Just a second later he got the confirmation to his thought: Tedesco had started snoring lightly.

Great, Aldo thought. Not only was he forced to spend the night in an uncomfortable armchair of all places, now Tedesco had the audacity to be a snorer - and to strip him of the peaceful quiet night of reading. 

Aldo was proud of his resilience though, and was not ready to give up on his plan so easily. Thus he opened the book again, rested his chin on his hand and tried to focus on the theological discussion again. He managed to read two more pages before the feeling of utter exhaustion got a hold of him.

The long day, starting with his conversation with Lawrence on the St. Peter’s Square, to his near-death experiences due to Tedesco’s driving on their roadtrip and the mix of emotions at discovering that they would have to share a bedroom for the night all got a hold of him now. 

His body and mind screamed at him to rest, but he did not find a comfortable position in the armchair. As he slid forward his lower back protested, but staying upright caused his neck to ache. He massaged his temple, afraid that a migraine attack would be his prize for sleeping in a sitting position. Aldo turned to his right, and holding a pillow up to his cheek, closed his eyes in hopes of sleep. 

It did not come. He didn’t even know how long he had been awake before frustration threatened to get a hold of him. He turned to his other side, only to have the armrest poke into his hip. He hissed at the painful sensation and turned around again, desperate to find a semi-comfortable position to just rest in.

He wasn’t a young man anymore, but he was pretty sure at that point that even his younger-self at the seminary would not have found a good sleeping position. He stretched his back to move the pillow again as a painful sensation shot through his lower back, setting his muscles on fire. A cramp. 

Aldo groaned as he tried to stretch his legs to relieve the pain. He was way too big for the armchair anyways. He was ready to get up and search for another sleeping spot - even the floor or the car sounded like better options now - when he heard Tedesco’s voice in the darkness. 

“Bellini?” 

If he’s going to complain about me disturbing his sleep I am going to strangle him , Aldo thought, opening his mouth to fight back. But Tedesco went on, voice heavy with sleep.

“Stop turning around like a madman, can’t sleep like this. Come to bed.” 

The implication hung heavy in the air between them. Aldo had expected a lot to happen during their trip - he had prepared for a fierce storm, a wave of rage drowning them both - but he had not expected Tedesco to speak the words “come to bed” to him, like they meant nothing. Which they probably do not. Mean anything, that is, Aldo told himself, his thoughts running wild. 

Apparently Tedesco sensed his hesitation, for he moved his arm, lifting the blanket on the left side of the bed, the one closest to Aldo, and shifted to create a space that he could settle into. A silent offer. Aldo had to only take what was offered to him. Maybe it was his body needing rest, his mind screaming at him to finally sleep, but he moved forward and in three long strikes of his legs he was standing in front of the bed, mouth dry. He quickly climbed in, placed the blanket over himself and kept his arms as close to his body as possible. Then he hold still barely breathing. 

Sharing a bed with him, Aldo found out that his biggest opponent was even loud in his sleep, be it faint snoring, sighing in dream oder groaning in protest before he shifted into a better position. 

Lying on his side of the bed like a corpse, arms crossed over his chest and face turned towards the ceiling, Aldo sensed movement next to him. Tedesco groaned in his sleep, grabbed the one blanket tighter and turned on his left side, effectively pulling the fabric along with him. Aldo had a second to decide whether or not he should react and fight for it - he did not dare - then the blanket slipped from his body. Great , Aldo thought. There’s not only just one bed, there’s also just one blanket, and Tedesco has wrapped himself in it now. 

Even though it was a warm summer night Aldo felt a chill rising on his skin. Taking the blanket from Tedesco seemed too risky, he did not want to get screamed at in the middle of the night after all. He raised his head and looked around the room for a replacement. Laying on top of Tedesco’s open suitcase, almost as if mocking him, he spotted his ridiculous red cape. Could he dare?

Before he allowed himself to think twice Aldo was up and had reached for it. That’s what Tedesco got for being a blanket-thief, after all. The material was soft under his fingertips, and heavy on his body as he leaned back down and draped the cape over himself. How did Tedesco manage to run around with it all the time? Aldo thought as he was coated in a comfortable warmth and the Patriarch’s smell, musky, traces of that hideous vape on it, that seemed to radiate from the cloth. 

Said Patriarch next to him seemed to have settled into a deep sleep on his stomach now. Aldo could make out the prominent profile in the darkness. He looked younger, as though sleep stripped him of his anger. 

Aldo allowed himself to look, not afraid for once that his curious gaze would be met with a hateful glare. His grey curls were illuminated by moonlight, splayed out on the pillow. He followed the rise of his forehead with his eyes, along the curve of his elegant nose, until they settled on Tedesco’s slightly parted lips. 

Had they met under different circumstances, had there not been a decade long feud between them, had they not been divided by being the left and right hand of Mother Church, Aldo might have allowed himself to explore the warmth forming in his belly at the sight of the man next to him. Without that powerful, rageful energy when awake Tedesco looked handsome to him. Attractive. Someone Aldo would have consumed whole only to spit out the next day. 

As Aldo rested his head on his arm and took in Tedesco’s rising and falling chest he tried to remember the last time that he had spent the night next to another sleeping man. It must have been decades ago he mussed. Ever since being more than a seminarian and climbing the ranks of the Curia he had been too afraid to form an actual bond with someone. Hiding behind meaningless hook-ups who hopefully cared too much for his body to remember his face, he had tried to satisfy his pleasure without risking his position.

But real intimacy, the one that made himself feel seen not just as a means of pleasure but also as a human connection, had lacked ever since he’d picked up his own cross. 

And now, his body longed to feel the warmth of another again, to cuddle into their warmth next to him and feel protected. Aldo smiled bitterly. His body seemed to forget who it was resting next to him.

He was still looking at Tedesco wondering if that men had ever acted on his own desires, if he had ever struggled like he himself had had. 

Knowing how Tedesco indulged in other pleasures - he seemed to be a men that knew how it was to indulge in gluttony to Aldo- and how peacefull he looked now, he probably never struggled like Aldo did, never known sleepless nights full of self-hated.

I must be very sleep deprived, he thought, thinking about Tedesco’s experiencing pleasure. But for once he was not too harsh on himself. He was way too comfortable for that, finally laying in a warm bed, beneath a soft, heavy cape and listening to the soft breathing of the other lulling him to sleep. a

As he finally closed his eyes, Aldo thought that maybe, just maybe, sharing a bed with Tedesco wasn’t the absolute worst thing in the world. 

 ~~

The sun was already shining outside, announcing a beautiful new day, as Aldo woke due to something heavy resting on his chest.

Still dazed by sleep he noticed several sensations at once: There was a stable weight over the left side of his body, grounding him in a comforting way.

Said weight moved slightly in steady breaths, exhaling warm air right against his neck and causing goosebumps on the sensitive skin there. He could make out a faint snoring sound in the otherwise silent room and a constant head radiating from the other body. 

Startled, Aldo opened his eyes. His vision was clouded by white curls right in front of his face. His mind tried to come up with a sensible explanation to his sleepy conscience. Was that strange, big, white cat sleeping on him? 

He blinked several times and leaned back to get a better view, which was rather difficult, as the weight did not move an inch and seemed to hold him even closer as he tried to get away from underneath it. 

As Aldo took in his situation from a broader perspective his heart skipped a beat. The soft curls on his chest were grey instead of white, and the weight on top of him was no cat at all.

To his utter  astonishment he found that he had woken up with the sleeping Patriarch of Venice clinging to him like his life depended on it.