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Aldo was a rather self aware person. He knew where he stood in the Church, in the Curia, among his fellow Cardinals. He also knew his place among his closer friends. He knew his place next to the late Holy Father. And he knew where he stood next to his longtime friend Thomas Cardinal Lawrence.
He had learned how to live with the fact that he would never be able to take the place he would like to occupy next to him. You see, Aldo had been in love with his best friend for a very long time now. He still didn't understand why his decades-old crush refused to die out.
There used to be a time where Aldo would be painfully obvious, getting nervous around Thomas, feeling tense, scared that he would notice the feelings that Aldo tried so hard to hide from him. Now, he was at a point in which he barely even noticed the longing anymore. He had managed to quiet it in such a way that it didn't disturb him anymore. It was like the pain couldn't reach him anymore because he had finally learned his place.
Still, whenever Aldo looked back at the past, he couldn't help but cringe at some of the things he had said and done. He still wondered if Thomas had stepped down from his charge as Secretary of State to become a Nuncio all those years ago because of him.
It had been years ago, but he remembered it like it was yesterday. They had been drinking at Aldo’s place after finishing on some paperwork they were working on. He remembered that Thomas spoke about something related to Canon Law. It was always pleasant to debate with him about theology.
They hadn't noticed the moment they finished a bottle of wine only to open a second one. Aldo had brought out a portable chess set at some point, having a slight advantage over Lawrence at their game. They sat on the living room floor, despite their age and the more than likely complaints from their bodies once they had to get up. The small chess board settled between them, and their halfway full glasses on their sides.
Aldo hadn't noticed when he started getting dangerously close to his friend.
“Checkmate,” he murmured with a slight smirk as he looked at his friend. Lawrence looked back at him and chuckled slightly at being beaten at the game.
“Yeah, I suppose it is,” he replied softly, looking back at the board with that small smile of his that Aldo rarely saw anymore. He couldn't help but notice his profile. The way he had changed but also stayed the same since the seminary. He averted his gaze when he noticed he had been staring.
“You played well.” He told Thomas. “Didn't make it easy for me.”
Thomas chuckled lightly at that. “Still, it seems like the only person able to beat you is the Holy Father.”
Aldo chuckled too. “I can’t ever win against him. He’s always three moves ahead,” he commented. A comfortable silence settled between them. Aldo leaned in a bit closer to Thomas, their shoulders now brushing together. He turned to the side, looking at Thomas. His expression was schooled, if slightly thoughtful. He’d become good at keeping his feelings away from his face. His job on the more diplomatic side of the Curia demanded it. Especially being in the progressive minority. Thomas turned to look back at him, noticing Aldo’s gaze on him.
They looked at each other for a moment, their eyes meeting. It was then when Aldo’s body acted without his permission, gravitating towards the other cardinal. Thomas leaned back, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. Aldo immediately stopped, realizing he had been moving closer. He quickly scanned Thomas’ expression, looking out for any signs of any emotion present.
He didn't look mad. He knew what an angry Thomas Lawerence looked like. It took a lot to get him to that point, and it was something he had seen only a handful of times. He looked more taken aback, confused even. There was something else in his eyes. Aldo worried it might be disgust. But upon further inspection, he realized it was apprehension.
“I’m sorry…” Aldo murmured quietly. He leaned back on the floor, pressing his back against the couch.
“I better go…” Thomas replied in the same quiet murmur. He was already trying to stand up. Aldo didn't say anything back, just replying with a nod. He was too ashamed to do anything else.
Thomas stood up, picked up his coat and bid him farewell before leaving the apartment.
The following days after that, he seemed closed off, like something was disturbing him. Aldo noticed that he was avoiding him in a way. When he confronted him about it, Thomas apologized.
“I’m sorry about that,” he had said in an almost polite tone. “But you know I took a vow and…” Aldo tuned out the rest of what he had said. Of course he knew. He knew how particular Lawrence was about his celibacy. He’d known since seminary, when he learned about the way he slept. He knew he struggled with being close to other people, perturbed by touch and proximity. Aldo should've known it’d turn out this way, and yet, his stupid drunk brain hadn't been able to see that and stop himself before it was too late.
A few weeks later, Lawrence resigned as Secretary of State, leaving the Vatican to go to America as the Apostolic Nuncio. Bellini stayed behind and the role went to him. During the time Lawrence was gone —and to this day still— Aldo blamed himself for it.
In his mind, that was the moment he had learned his place. And it only took him driving his friend thousands of miles away for months to realize it.
After Thomas came back and was designated as Dean of the College, Aldo was much more careful with their interactions. It was still awkward at first, but then he managed to find a new rhythm to fall into. He no longer felt tense, and his longing was no longer at the forefront of his mind.
Sadly for Aldo, it didn't mean that his feelings had gone away. They had been there since way too long ago to just vanish from not seeing Thomas for a few months.
No matter how much Aldo wanted to deny to himself that he felt anything, there were two key moments in which that sliver of longing still nagged at him. Whenever he managed to create a sense of closeness with Thomas, and when he lay awake late at night, thinking of both the past and hypothetical scenarios of what could be in another life.
——
The Holy Father hadn’t wasted time reforming the Curia after being elected. Despite Aldo keeping his position as Secretary of State, most of everyone else was under Innocent’s scrutiny. It was no surprise that as his Secretary of State, Vincent would ask Aldo to give him tabs on the rest of the Curia members to see if they were worthy of keeping their positions at the core of the Church, serving as an example for others to follow. He had been going through what felt like thousands of files and documents regarding many different Curia officials. Even after going through so many, the to-do pile seemed neverending.
Thomas had seen him stressed out about it and offered to give him a hand. Aldo accepted, even if he still couldn’t completely shake off the remaining awkwardness from their argument during that time when they were sequestered.
They had spent the entire afternoon in the library that day, and Aldo could feel a semblance of the closeness they used to have years ago. He’d never admit to missing it
After hours of reading and sorting through files, Thomas had ended up falling asleep on Aldo’s shoulder. He had noticed of course, and it made a conflicting but warm feeling spark in his chest. He had missed this closeness. He didn’t think that Thomas would ever feel comfortable enough around him again to do such a thing as falling asleep on his shoulder. Especially after the strain the conclave had put on their already distanced relationship At the same time, he felt like he was completely undeserving of such closeness. It made him feel conflicted, knowing that he shouldn’t still harbor feelings for the older man, but being unable to not be affected by the tender situation. He knew that he shouldn’t let himself be fooled by the gesture. It was late. They were tired. And they were old. It wasn’t surprising that staying up late skimming through files would be enough to make either of them fall asleep on the spot. It just so happened that Aldo’s shoulder had been right there for Thomas to conveniently use as a makeshift pillow. It didn’t mean anything. And yet…
Aldo was so gone. He had been for ages, even if he knew he shouldn’t be. He knew where he stood, though. And he didn’t understand why these feelings refused to leave him.
He had ended up letting Thomas sleep for a while longer on him, until he himself had become too tired to continue. He carefully woke him up, offering to ride with him back to his apartment. He’d said yes. ‘That still doesn’t mean anything’.
He tried to keep himself awake as they rode the cab back to Lawrence’s apartment, just so that Thomas could continue to sleep on him as they slipped into the vehicle. Once he’d made sure that Thomas made it safely back to his apartment complex, he told the driver to take him home.
That night, it didn’t take him long at all to fall asleep after his head hit the pillow. But in those few moments between wakefulness and sleep, he couldn’t help but think of how comfortable it had felt to be that close to Thomas again.
——
Sometimes Aldo wondered if this was his God-sent penance for his condition. He’d heard countless times throughout his life how homosexuality was sinful, and even though he never had subscribed to that belief, he couldn't help but wonder. He had disregarded what he had been taught and fell in love with his fellow brother in Christ regardless. Maybe this was his penance for such an act; to be condemned to look at the man he loved and be unable to do anything about it.
The worst part was seeing Thomas self-flagellate. Aldo knew that he had trouble praying, feeling God’s love. It wasn't strange to think that he couldn't notice the love around him if he couldn't feel God’s love. After all, God’s love was supposed to be perfect and unconditional. If God couldn't love him, how could an imperfect human do so? It saddened Aldo to think about.
Lawrence was surrounded by people that were practically obsessed with him. His assistant, Monsignor O’Malley not only was at his beck and call, always so meticulous on any work he did for him. He also worried about the Dean, making sure that he took care of himself whenever possible. The Patriarch of Venice, Cardinal Tedesco, as much as he disagreed with the people closest to the Dean, did everything to get his attention every time he set foot in the Vatican. Aldo himself had been obsessed with him for the longest time, albeit in a much quieter way —or at least he thought so—. But who piqued Aldo’s attention the most was Vincent, the new Holy Father. Ever since he had shown up months ago at the Casa Santa Marta for the conclave, he seemed to form an immediate connection with Thomas. It didn’t bother Aldo in the slightest. In fact, he welcomed it. Since Vincent’s arrival and subsequent election, Thomas seemed to be doing better, being happier. It was almost as if God had not only given Vincent to the world as the new head of the Church, but also to Thomas. A personal shepherd to get him back into the light. Aldo could never be angry at someone who made Thomas happy. Or to God for whatever plan He held for them.
At the end of the day, he knew that he couldn’t do much to help himself. He knew he couldn’t let go of Thomas. He had tried. It didn’t bother him much anymore, though. And even if Thomas ended up being happy with Vincent, Aldo would be happy for him. He wanted to see him happy. He knew that he’d be relegated to stand at the sidelines for the rest of his life. He’d made peace with that. It was okay. Or at least that was what he had chosen to believe.