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“What are you doing?” You can’t hide your accusatory tone.
Perpetua pauses, his shoulders hunched, elbows bent and his fingers curled into claws. “I am so glad you asked,” he grins and prowls closer, light on his feet. You quirk a brow and attempt to hide the smile that threatens to tug at your lips.“I’m practicing my new walk, Sister.”
“New walk?” You ask flatly, crossing your arms. He doesn’t bat an eye as he continues on, circling you until he’s right behind you.
“I am supposed to be, like, a being, right? A creature that stalks around stage?” Perpetua’s voice drops an octave as he leans in close to your ear. "It's all in the posture, you see. I need to be more...feral." His breath is warm against your neck.
“I mean, I guess so.” You roll your eyes at his dramatics. "Perpetua, what are you-"
But before you can finish, he dramatically presses his whole body up against your back, his arms draping over your shoulders. His full weight settles on you, nearly making your knees buckle.
"Come on, babe," he whines into your ear, still maintaining that ridiculous posture even as he leans on you. "I'm trying here." He shifts his weight, somehow making himself feel even heavier.
You sigh, "For someone who claims they're trying to be intimidating, you sure are making it hard to take you seriously." You know it's impossible to try to dislodge him when he gets like this.
"That's not what you said last night," he murmurs, dropping the act momentarily as his lips ghost against your ear.
It had started almost immediately after his elevation to Papa. The transition had been so abrupt, nothing like Cardinal Copia's gradual ascension. One day Perpetua was there at the ministry and thrust into the papacy.
Perhaps it was the stress of his new position, or maybe just the magnetic pull of this mysterious man, but you'd fallen into bed together after that first chaotic week. No strings attached, you'd both agreed, just a way to blow off steam.
"Are you thinking about it?" he asks, abandoning his theatrics completely now, his voice taking on that deeper tone that never fails to send a shiver down your spine.
"I'm thinking you're crushing me," you deflect, but your tone lacks conviction.
He lets out a dramatic sigh and finally straightens up, releasing you from his weight. His face falls into an exaggerated pout as he moves to stand in front of you.
"I wish you could come with me," he says suddenly, his playfulness giving way to something more genuine. "On tour. It would be... nice."
You blink at the abrupt shift. "You know I can't. My duties here-"
"I know, I know," he cuts you off, running a hand through his dark hair. "The ministry needs you. The Clergy needs you." His expression darkens slightly. "My dear brother Frater needs you."
There's an edge to his voice.
"Are you... jealous?" you ask, unable to keep the hint of amusement from your voice.
Perpetua scoffs, but doesn't quite meet your eyes. "Jealous? Me? Of Frater? Please." He paces a few steps away before turning back to you. "I just don't see why he gets to have you all to himself while I'm gone. It's not fair." You can’t help but admire his getup, the crisp face paint, his black silk shirt and cravat and those tight little pants.
"Have me? Nobody 'has' me, Perpetua," you remind him.
"You know what I mean," he grumbles. "He gets to see you every day, work with you, while I'm stuck performing for the masses."
“Sounds like such a terrible time,” you tease, watching him pace like a caged animal. "Adoring fans, fame, getting to perform every night..."
“I’ll miss this the most, I think.” He stops, swinging his head to look at you as he breaks out into a wide grin. “No one gives me shit quite like you do, babe.”
You roll your eyes again, but there's a warmth spreading through your chest at his admission. "I'll still be here when you get back," you offer quietly, and for a moment, things feel… serious.
But only for a moment. Perpetua twirls away dramatically, his clawed hands gesturing wildly at an invisible audience. "But enough about my woes. I have a performance to prepare for, and you," he points at you accusingly, though his eyes gleam with mischief, "you have paperwork waiting, I'm sure. Frater's probably wondering where his favorite Sister has disappeared to."
“Relax, Perp,” you sigh and walk towards him, closing the distance. “You know he doesn’t know about us and you know we are strictly professional.”
His gaze softens a little at your reassurance. "I know," he sighs, stepping closer until you're just inches apart. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."
The tension between you hangs in the air for a moment, neither of you willing to break it. Then Perpetua leans in close, his painted face just inches from yours. "One more night," he whispers, his voice a mixture of command and plea. "Before I leave. Give me that at least?"
“You don’t have to ask me twice, babe,” you hum before reaching up his face, fingers tracing the edge of his silver mask. You’ve been careful not to ask what it’s for — in fact you’ve never seen him without it.
His eyes darken as he catches your wrist, pressing a soft kiss to your palm.
"I'll see you tonight then," he says, releasing your wrist and stepping back. The intensity in his eyes shifts to playfulness again. "Now, leave me to my practice. I must perfect this walk before the tour begins."
You nod, unable to suppress a smile. "Don't hurt yourself with all that... prowling."
"Mock me now," he calls after you as you head for the door, "but you'll see. The crowds will be mesmerized."
You throw him one last glance over your shoulder. He's already resumed his ridiculous posture, fingers curled into claws, hunched shoulders, taking exaggerated steps across the room. Despite yourself, you feel a pang at the thought of him leaving soon.
"See you tonight, Papa," you say softly, and close the door behind you.