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“O’Malley.” He doesn’t look at the other man, cupping his hand around the flame as he lights his cigarette. He takes a drag, leaning back against the wall.
“Your Eminence.” Ray’s voice is restrained, and Giulio can hear the clipped anger simmering underneath.
He does not ask what Ray wants from him, smoking slowly and staring at the courtyard as there was not someone passive aggressively clearing their throat mere feet from him.
“The Dean has requested that you be at tomorrow’s planning meeting.” Ray says, stiffer this time. Giulio rolls his eyes, taking another drag. Ever since his appointment as camerlengo, his time spent around Lawrence had increased tenfold, much to his annoyance.
“You’ve made it very clear that you don’t respect me,” Ray’s voice is low and sharp as he glances around to ensure they are truly alone. “But it is both uncharitable and unchristian to so openly disrespect a fellow Cardinal.”
“Who said I didn’t respect you?” Giulio asks, frowning as he finally turns to look at Ray. He doesn’t bother the point for Lawrence—everyone knows his feelings towards the Dean, and no amount of barking from his guard dog is likely to change his mind.
Ray, for a rare moment, looks completely lost. His mouth opens, snaps shut, then opens again. Giulio raises an eyebrow, waving his cigarette in a questioning motion.
Ray sputters for a moment before taking a deep breath and straightening, visibly regaining his composure. “You ignore half of my memos, you completely avoid me in public, and you won’t even look at me when I speak to you!”
“I don’t ignore your memos,” Giulio says, taking another pull and turns his gaze back to the courtyard. It’s still the same practiced nonchalance he’s always shown, but there’s a new furrow to his brow. “I ignore Thomas’ memos that you happen to deliver. It’s nothing personal.”
“Well it feels personal, Your Eminence.” Ray hisses, his jaw set. “And I for one I will not tolerate a hostile working environment for the remainder of this pontificate.”
Giulio knows he should stop and apologize. It wasn’t Ray’s fault that he had been hearing about Lawrence for the better part of four decades like the sun shone out of his ass from his best friend. And it certainly wasn’t his fault that Giulio had no idea how to handle the snarl of feelings that had lodged somewhere in his chest during the conclave and had only worsened since his appointment. He had expected the Pope to elevate O’Malley to Cardinal and send him to Milan to cover the sudden vacancy, but Innocent, for reasons known only to God, had elected to keep him under the close watch of his Dean.
And so, ignoring it entirely was easier. Which often meant ignoring the source of the problem itself, though his height and near-constant presence in the Vatican made it nearly impossible. He’s already under a level of stress he had never experienced in Milan, inheriting a role under intense public scrutiny in the midst of Tremblay’s proceedings. He’s honored to have been chosen for the task, but it does force both proximity to Ray and leave him with very little time to think about it.
“Going to tell Sua Santità?” He says instead of demuring like he knows he should. But he did not ask for Lawrence to send Ray on errands like he was a gopher and not a respected bishop, let alone these impossibly frustrating feelings.
“What is your problem!?” Ray raises his voice, not quite a yell but neither the discretion he previously insisted upon. It snaps something in Giulio and he whirls on Ray, pressing his forearm into his chest and shoving him against the wall.
“My problem is you, Monsignor.” Giulio’s voice is low and dripping with bitterness and something new as he glares up at Ray. “Every time I turn my head, you’re right there.” He presses his arm against Ray’s chest further, his mind too on fire to hear the rational part of his brain screaming at him. “Every time I look for some blessed peace and quiet in this place, you’re right there. I cannot fucking think with you around, and I don’t care for distractions.”
Ray opens his mouth to protest, and Giulio surges up on his tiptoes to press their mouths together. It’s rough and unsophisticated, their teeth knocking together and noses bumping. Ray makes a confused sound high in his throat and Giulio pulls back, his arm still pinning him to the wall. The two of them look ate ach other in startled silence, flushed and breathing heavy and unable to say a word.
Giulio brings his forgotten cigarette to his lips, breathing in as slowly as he can manage with his racing heart. He blows out the smoke down and away from Ray, averting his gaze as he finally pushes off of him and lets him go. He drops the butt of the cigarette to the ground, grinds it beneath his heel, and turns sharply to walk back to his offices.
Ray straightens his glasses with a shaky hand, touching his lips for a moment before pushing himself off the wall and hurrying in the opposite direction. His heart feels like it’s bound to come out of his chest, something previously untouched unfurling in his ribs. Whatever he had anticipated, it had certainly not been that.
Though, he thinks, with some surprise, it had not been entirely unwanted.