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Frater Imperator slouched on the floor with his back against the couch, staring at the black screen with a bitter taste in his mouth. The tightness in his chest had only worsened, the weight in his stomach heavier than before he’d watched the ridiculous video.
Papa V.
Perpetua.
Copia had been ready to mock the man for his embarrassing behavior and awful dance moves until he realized the character in the video was not his replacement. He was just… a guy. The actual reveal of his replacement came at the very end, and it made him bristle. Why was it that V got his own dramatic introductory video while the rest of them had to make do with shitty phone recordings? His only comfort was knowing he had ascended in front of his people and got to experience their joy and enthusiasm firsthand. He felt a sense of vindication knowing Perpetua would never get to have that.
After watching the offensive video, Copia was relieved they gave up trying to get Perpetua through the door. He’d already been agitated and didn’t want to see this intruder, this usurper, in his own home. He knew he was there, but it was easy to pretend otherwise when he hadn’t seen him. If he’d been forced to meet the man and consequently seen his elaborate ensemble without warning, he didn’t think he’d have been able to maintain his composure. It had taken him years to acquire the funds, materials, artists, and designers to create his mitre and chasuble, for which he took great pride. He’d worked hard to ascend into his papacy, and he wanted his hard work to be reflected in the craftsmanship of his vestments.
What work had Perpetua done? Why did he deserve to be handed what Copia had to take himself? How could he have earned such extravagance when Copia hadn’t even known he existed?
Pushing himself to his feet, he stormed out of his makeshift office to get some fresh air, grumbling under his breath all the while.
The sky was darkening when he stepped through the abbey’s doors, the air chilly enough to cut through his suit but not so cold as to be uncomfortable. It was refreshing, each deep breath cooling his lungs and soothing his frustration from within. Off the side of the driveway was a wide, cobblestone path that he made his way to and began walking down, trying to clear his head.
Rather than cooperate and give him some peace, his mind continued to dwell on the mysterious man behind the locked door. Why was he so special? Where did he even come from? Copia had never heard of him, and he’d grown up in the church. Was he an outsider? If so, how could he possibly have gotten this position? And why wasn’t Copia consulted about any of this? Even his mother hadn’t told him.
His mind quickly shied away from thoughts of Sister Imperator. He didn’t want to think about her right now. His chest already ached with the knowledge that he’d not been good enough to remain Papa. He certainly didn’t want to add to the pain by thinking about the loss of the mother he’d only just started to form a bond with.
Rounding the corner of his home, he saw the tall doors that acted as a side entrance to the chapel. When he tugged on the chilled handle, the door did not budge, so he reached into his jacket. Unlike his replacement, Copia had a ring of keys tucked in his pocket in case of situations like this. It had been reluctantly handed to him by Mr. Psaltarian as an acknowledgement of his new position. As head of the Clergy, no door was locked to him.
Well, almost no door.
Fumbling with the ring for some time, holding the keys to the lock and trying to match the color and style, he eventually found one that slid into place and effortlessly turned. Relieved, he stepped into the chapel, locking the door behind him.
His shoes clicked on the marble floor as he walked past the pews to stand before the altar and look out upon the empty chapel, the remaining sun making the stained glass glow and giving the place a surreal look. He had done the very same the day before his first sermon, wondering how he would ever be able to do this, how he could lead his people. Now, he wondered how he’d ever be able to let this go.
Sighing, he walked out of the door opposite the one he came in through. When the door closed, he was left in a hallway with no windows to light his way. The resulting dimness was why he noticed the warm light spilling out from under the door to the room that held his—that held Perpetua’s vestments. He frowned, doubting any of the seamstresses or organizers were in there. It was late, and few were passionate enough to stick around after hours. Curious about who the occupant might be or if someone had simply left the light on, he quietly opened the door and stepped inside.
In the center of the room, with his back turned to him, was who Copia assumed to be his replacement. He’d only seen those brief images of him in the music video, but it was pretty obvious when the person before him had dark curly hair flattened against their head by straps that presumably kept that ridiculous mask flush with their face.
Plus, he couldn’t think of anyone else who might be standing in that room with a pair of sparkly wings strapped to their shirtless body.
The new Papa didn’t seem to notice him standing there, so Copia took a moment to look over the man. He was slighter than him and of a similar height, and his plagiarized wings glittered brightly in the light of the room. Copia’s mouth twisted bitterly as he took in the sight. Of course the new guy would copy his looks. He doubted he’d ever had a single original thought in his head.
“Having fun?” he called out, smirking when the other jumped and spun around, staring back at him with wide eyes.
“Frater Imperator!” the new Papa said, voice tight. It was higher than Copia’s and rang clear as a bell. “I was just…”
He trailed off, lowering his gaze and shrinking into himself. Copia’s satisfaction at startling him wavered as the man tried to make himself as small as possible, almost flinching away from him.
His reaction gave the distinct impression of a kicked puppy bracing for the next blow.
Throughout his years as Papa, Copia had been a confidant for countless people, familiar church members and strangers alike. They trusted him, knowing they could lay their burdens before him without fear of judgement or retaliation. Because of this, he’d come to recognize the signs of abuse at a glance. The level of power he wielded within the church was immense, and it often exacerbated the symptoms of such traumas, particularly in those who had been abused by their previous church. They always took the longest to come around, terrified of giving themselves over to an organization that might exploit and abuse them further. Part of Copia’s job was helping them work through those fears so they could live freely and find their way home.
Copia was not Papa any longer. The man before him was, and it was his responsibility to provide that comfort and feeling of safety to his people. But such an ingrained habit was tough to break, and Copia reluctantly found himself trying to smooth over the distress he’d caused.
Withholding a sigh, he searched for something to say to break the silence and settled on the wings that had so offended him just moments prior. Gesturing to them, he spoke, drawing Perpetua’s attention to him.
“Wanted to try them out?” he asked with a raised brow, fighting to keep any hint of disdain from his voice.
He didn’t know what response he expected. Maybe an argument, firm denial, or even laughing agreement, but it was not to receive a shy nod as the man ducked further away. Copia couldn’t tell from the paint and silvery mask, but he guessed by his mannerisms that he was likely blushing.
Copia was annoyed with himself for wanting to soothe the new Papa further. It wasn’t like he’d had the career he’d worked his entire life to attain ripped away from him. If anything, Perpetua should be trying to comfort him.
But he couldn’t help it. It was simply who he was.
“I understand,” he nodded. “I was so excited when I got mine.”
Saying the words had him reliving the time he mentioned in his mind, and he felt a melancholic wave of nostalgia. He’d been so happy back then. He’d worked hard as Cardinal to become a person who was worth something, and he’d felt no greater joy than being chosen to ascend and lead his people.
“Now,” he went on, bitterness lacing his words, “my wardrobe has significantly downgraded.”
Lifting his head, Perpetua looked at him with curious eyes, as though his words were lessons on his favorite subject. The wings made him appear smaller than he was and gave the impression of shields he was using to protect himself.
The longer he looked at his replacement, the more Copia felt compelled to be gentle with him.
He didn’t want to be gentle with that man.
To combat this, he walked across the room to stand before the mirror, where he was reminded that he wasn’t being entirely truthful. His suit had been perfectly tailored to his body, the pieces precisely stitched together to create an image of elegance and power.
Copia was not nothing. He wasn’t. For as long as the church stood and the rituals continued, perhaps even longer, there would be countless followers who would bear his papal paint and depict his likeness in their art and take solace in the sound of his voice. He had to remember that.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Perpetua’s reflection and found his gaze lingering on him. While still tense, he had relaxed enough that his arms were no longer tucked close to his body and instead hovered at his sides, unable to fully lower due to the unyielding bones strapped to him. As a result, his naked upper half was fully on display. He wasn’t large by any means, and the muscles in his arms and abdomen looked smooth and soft rather than distinctly defined. He was much fairer than Copia and had little hair to cover him. Copia knew they were the same age, that fact being one of the very few he’d been told, but it was hard to believe when the other man looked so… youthful.
Deep within his core, a tiny flame began to flicker as he felt the weight of Perpetua’s gaze on him. Experimentally, he began working open his suit jacket. Perpetua seemed hypnotized by his every move, lips slightly parted as he watched him intently. When Copia’s eyes trailed down, he noticed how tight Perpetua’s pants seemed and felt that flame inside him grow. Loath as he was to admit it, his replacement was very attractive, and his blatant want for Copia made burning desire curl in his gut. He laid his jacket on the table beside him and straightened up again, meeting his own darkening eyes in the mirror.
With his gaze locked on his movements, Copia slowly began unbuttoning his shirt, curious to see what reaction he would receive. When he was about halfway through, his eyes flicked to Perpetua’s reflection, and he had to fight not to smirk. He didn’t need to see his face through the paint because the blush had traveled down his neck and darkened his chest. Copia hadn’t even removed his shirt, and the man looked like he might pass out.
How could he possibly have gotten this position if he was so easily flustered?
And how could Copia be expected not to take advantage?
“You know, Papa,” he said, amused when Perpetua jolted, “you have not yet undergone your… eh… initiation.”
“Initiation?” Perpetua asked in a startled voice.
“Sì, it is a sort of ritual to ‘break in the new guy,’ so to speak.”
No such ritual existed, of course, but he was interested to see just how naive and trusting this new Papa might be.
“What does the ritual entail?”
Turning to face him, Copia felt a twinge of guilt when he saw the wide-eyed, nervous expression on Perpetua’s face. He looked so trusting, like Copia was his mentor who he needed to teach him how to be Papa and show him what to do.
He should have figured that out before taking Copia’s job.
Still, there was undoubtedly a thing or two Copia wouldn’t mind teaching him, and he decided to make his intentions very clear by locking eyes with the other man as he opened his pants. Perpetua’s flushed skin darkened, his breaths coming faster, and the telltale bulge in his pants became even more pronounced. Copia stepped forward, noting how the other tensed further with every step. He didn’t look afraid, nor did he back away, so Copia kept walking until they were separated by little more than an exhale.
“It is one of a physical nature,” he lied, cock twitching in interest as he looked over the man up close. Perpetua’s painted lips drew his eye first, the extended design emphasizing his cupid’s bow and begging to be smudged down his chin, and then they slid down his body the way he would hopefully be doing with his hands in a moment. “A way for you to… intimately bond with the church.” He met Perpetua’s eyes again and held them. “Would you like to go through with it now?”
To his immense surprise, Perpetua answered immediately, his strong voice at odds with the faint trembling of his hands.
“Yes, Frater.”
Arousal pooled in Copia’s gut, the use of his title making him feel like he actually was in charge for the first time. He moved closer, unsure exactly how he planned to use the man before him but knowing for certain that he would.
As soon as he did so, the new Papa squeezed his eyes shut, as tense as a cornered animal.
Copia furrowed his brow. He wanted to fuck the guy, sure, but he didn’t want to assault him. He touched Perpetua’s arm to ensure he wasn’t doing anything unwanted. When Perpetua opened his eyes to look nervously back at him, Copia finally recognized what was happening.
Shying away, staring at him and blushing, saying he wanted it only to hide within himself.
He’d never done this before.
All desire to shove him to his knees and stuff that pretty mouth with his cock or bend him over the nearest table and take out his frustration by fucking him as hard as he could evaporated from his mind.
That was a lie. Copia still wanted to do all of that, and he wanted it badly, but he wouldn’t let himself. Not yet.
Instead, he cupped Perpetua’s face and kissed his cheek, even such a chaste touch making the other man’s breath hitch. Copia kissed along his jaw, but the paint masked the taste of his skin. Eager to get past it, he dragged his lips down and kissed over his neck. A strong hand latched onto his arm as a faint moan brushed against his ears. When he parted his lips and dragged his tongue over his neck, finally getting to taste skin, Perpetua gasped and wrapped an arm around Copia’s shoulders.
The dramatic responsiveness intensified Copia’s arousal. There were few things he loved more than pleasuring others, and Perpetua was making it so easy. Wrapping his arms around him, he pressed their bodies together and sucked at his neck, hating that his hands were covered but refusing to pull away. He knew the second he touched a sensitive spot because Perpetua would jolt or gasp or make one of his pretty noises. He would have been embarrassed by how quickly he’d gotten hard, but the other man was falling apart from Copia kissing his neck. How might he shatter if he were shown real pleasure? Copia wanted to touch him everywhere and learn every single erogenous zone. If his theory was correct, Perpetua didn’t know those places either and would be discovering them through Copia’s touch.
It took until that moment for Copia to realize something.
If he was the first person to touch Perpetua, that meant no one else had ever been inside him.
His cock throbbed at the thought.
Keeping his mouth on his neck, sucking bruise after bruise to the surface to force future Perpetua to remember what they’d done, he dragged his hands over his chest, feeling him up.
He almost laughed at the disappointed sound the other man made as he pulled away. He needed to watch him, to see what expressions his pretty face made when he took him in hand for the first time. Before that, he squeezed Papa through his pants just to tease him.
Perpetua immediately collapsed against him, rutting frantically against his hand as he clung to him. His body trembled against Copia’s, his moans so close to his ear he could feel his breath against his skin.
He came. One simple touch, and he came.
It should be a turnoff. It was pathetic that he orgasmed so quickly, and it screamed of inexperience. If touching his cock over clothing was enough to push him over the edge, how might he fall apart is someone were to fuck him?
Rather than being turned off, Copia wanted to fuck him even more than before, his cock straining against his pants. He tried to pull back to give the other a chance to breathe and return to himself, and he was surprised when Perpetua latched onto him.
“Don’t stop,” he begged, lifting his head to meet Copia’s eyes. “Please don’t stop.”
Copia’s cock throbbed almost painfully at those words. He hadn’t planned on stopping anyway, but now it would take all of the Clergy to rip him away from this shaking little Papa.
“I won’t,” he swore.
True to his word, he slipped his hand into Perpetua’s pants and wrapped around his cock, coating him with his release. The poor thing seemed like he was about to collapse, so Copia took pity on him and removed his hand to instead grab his thighs and lift him, surprised by how light he was, as though his wings had caught the air to assist him. He hadn’t even noticed the gloves until they were stabbing his back, but it didn’t deter him. He loved it when his lovers dug their nails into his back in the throes of pleasure, and this was no different.
Glancing around the room, he found a wide lounge and walked over to deposit his successor, making sure to position him so that his wings wouldn’t get crushed. He could have told him to take them off, but, truthfully, he looked hot with them on, as though he had crawled directly out of hell just to have Copia ruin him.
Looking down and admiring his lithe form, Copia’s eyes caught on the mask. He wanted to see every expression he made, not just half. He wanted to see his brows furrow and make his hair fall into his face, but the mask and its straps prevented that. Pulling his gloves off and tossing them to the floor, he reached out to take it off and was surprised when Perpetua stopped him.
When he met the other’s eyes, they were wide and fearful. Perpetua shook his head, the hand holding Copia’s trembling, and Copia immediately retreated. He was disappointed, but it seemed to be an important boundary for the man that he didn’t want to push just then. Instead, he took Perpetua’s face in his hand and leaned down to finally kiss him properly.
He started slow, not wanting to overwhelm him, but his desire quickly conquered his self-control, and he pressed his tongue inside, kissing him harder when he moaned. Perpetua was so eager, shifting beneath him and parting his soft lips obediently so Copia could ravage his mouth.
They parted for only a moment, taking a second to breathe, and then—
“I want you inside me.”
Those breathy words punched through him and left Copia dizzy with need. Cursing, he pushed himself upright to free his cock, sighing when he took it in hand. He was so hard, all he wanted to do was shove his cock inside him and fuck him senseless. Releasing himself so he wouldn’t come too fast, he worked open Perpetua’s pants and dragged them off, mouth going dry when his wet cock was freed. He wanted to swallow him down and suck him clean, shuddering at the thought of Perpetua squeezing his thighs around his head and pulling his hair. Getting to his feet, he quickly removed the rest of his clothes before hurrying over to a closet he knew held lube and other sexual paraphernalia for rituals and other private activities. Then he was back on the lounge between the legs that were already parted for him.
As he poured the lube into his hand, he considered coating Perpetua’s cock with it and massaging his balls, but he had a feeling that would push the poor thing over the edge again. Instead, he turned his attention to that undoubtedly virgin hole. His free hand reached under Perpetua’s knee to lift his leg and expose him further.
As he pressed his fingers against his entrance, Copia glanced up just in time to see Perpetua’s eyes flutter shut as he moaned shakily. Keeping his eyes on his face, he added pressure until the tip of his middle finger sank into his body, unsure if the other would enjoy the feeling or try to escape it. To his delight and arousal, Perpetua’s breath hitched and he spread his legs further. Pushing in deeper had him moaning again, and Copia quickly added a second finger, mesmerized by the man beneath him.
“More,” Perpetua breathed, dazed enough that Copia wasn’t sure he even knew he was speaking.
That one word had him biting back a moan, and he did as he was told, burying his fingers inside him and leaking against his thigh when Perpetua pushed back against his hand. He added a third finger sooner than he usually would, rubbing against his inner walls and considering sucking him off anyway just to feel him come on his fingers. Then Perpetua gasped and clenched so tightly around his fingers that it hurt, and Copia leaned down to kiss him hard, shoving his tongue in his mouth again just as he shoved his fingers deeper inside him. He fingered him roughly as they kissed, savoring every moan he was fed as his Papa let him play with him.
When he could hold back no longer, he sat up and pulled his fingers free. Grabbing the lube again, he stared at Perpetua’s stretched hole as he slicked himself up, remembering that he was probably the first person to get to do this. Shifting closer, he rubbed the head of his cock against him, teasing them both by pressing against his hole but not breaching the rim. He didn’t have the self-control to tease for long, and he groaned as the tip sank into him.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he said mostly to himself.
Grabbing Perpetua’s hips, he closed his eyes as he slowly pushed his cock deep inside him. He took him so well, as though his body had been molded to perfectly fit Copia’s cock. When he bottomed out, he remained still for some time, trying to resist the urge to pound into the smaller man the way his body was begging him to, so Perpetua could get used to the feeling of him.
He couldn’t stay still for long and was soon grinding into that perfect hole. Perpetua writhed beneath him, whimpers and moans filling Copia’s ears and fueling his desire. He lowered himself over Perpetua and kissed him again, chasing those sounds with his tongue as he rolled his hips.
A sharp pain in his back made him hiss, and he involuntarily thrust into Perpetua harder. The pain came again, and his eyes rolled back, the sharp sting combined with the walls hugging his cock making him chase his pleasure more intently as the pressure in his core built.
“Ah!”
Copia sat back immediately, alarmed. Had he started to lose himself and hurt the pretty Papa beneath him?
He was left dumbfounded when Perpetua dragged his clawed gloves over his thigh, splitting the skin, and dropped his head back with a shaky moan as he tried to fuck himself on Copia’s cock.
“Do you like that, Papa?” he asked breathlessly, throbbing inside that tight, needy hole. “You like being hurt?”
“Yes,” Perpetua panted, shocking him further. “Yes.”
Copia had to give it to him. He may have been inexperienced and shy, but he didn’t seem to have an ounce of shame.
“Do you want more?” he asked, genuinely curious to see how he might respond.
“Please,” Perpetua begged, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “I want it.”
Copia did not hesitate to dig his nails into Perpetua’s shoulders and drag them down harshly, leaving angry red lines across his chest. He didn’t even consider avoiding his nipples, breath hitching when the action caused Perpetua to clench around his cock again.
“Is that what you want, Papa?” he asked, intending to hurt him further the second he received affirmation.
His jaw dropped when, instead of answering, Perpetua dragged his claws down his chest just as Copia had done, grinding against him as blood welled to the surface and rolled down his body.
“Harder,” he panted.
The demand had barely left his tongue when Copia gripped his hips again and rammed into him, fucking him as hard as he’d wanted to since he decided to take him. Perpetua cried out, which only spurred him on more, rutting desperately into him as he chased his pleasure. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so turned on, the sight of the bloody, needy thing beneath him making him want to bite and claim and fuck. That desire only grew when Perpetua hooked a hand under his knee and lifted it just as Copia had done earlier, his claws causing blood to trail down his thigh. Copia’s eyes watched those trails, captivated, and he held his breath as the blood went further and further. The second it touched his cock, his hips stuttered and he let out a shaky moan. He couldn’t even feel it, but watching himself fuck Perpetua’s blood into him as it stained his length was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen.
It was only a minute later when Perpetua cried out and clenched tightly around him as he came. Copia got to watch it this time, hungrily taking in the partial expressions he could see and the pulsing of his cock as his come mixed with the blood on his chest.
It was the thought of tasting that delicious mixture that pushed Copia to the edge.
“I’m close,” he said, barely holding back but wanting to last as long as possible.
Perpetua decided to make sure that wouldn’t be very long at all.
“Inside,” he panted, grabbing onto him. “Inside. Spill your sin inside me.”
Fuck.
“Yes, Papa,” he hissed, his desperation winning out and making him lower himself to bite down on his neck and muffle his groan as he buried his cock deep inside him and came hard.
He ground their hips together, desperately chasing every last moment of his orgasm and being sure to drain his balls inside his Papa. He wanted to mark him in every way possible, claiming him in a way no one had before. Perpetua seemed to want the same as he moaned and wrapped his legs around Copia’s waist, keeping their bodies flush. Releasing his neck, Copia returned to kissing it, pleased with how completely ruined it looked.
When they finally parted and Copia’s cock slipped free, he was amused when his groan was mirrored by the man beneath him. He stroked his cock a few times as he looked at the mess he’d left, his come and Perpetua’s blood leaking from his thoroughly used hole. They ended up lying side by side on the lounge, and Copia closed his eyes, savoring the gentle hum of pleasure and satisfaction beneath his skin. His earlier frustration and turmoil had completely drained from him, leaving him feeling light and relaxed.
“Thank you, Frater,” came a soft voice beside him, and Copia looked over in confusion.
“For what?”
There was a brief pause during which Copia wondered what he could be missing. And then—
“For the initiation.”
Guilt shot through him. Did he really think…? Surely not. But the fact that he wasn’t positive unsettled him.
“Oh,” he said stupidly and cleared his throat. “Sì, the initiation. Of course. Eh…” he hesitated, before settling on: “You’re welcome.”
Perpetua laid an arm over his face, and Copia dodged the wing before squinting at him. He was laughing at him, wasn’t he?
“You should probably take those off soon,” he said wryly. “Before you poke our eyes out or lose some of your… jewels.”
He smirked when Perpetua gasped as if only then realizing he could ruin them. He tried to quickly get to his feet, but seemed to have forgotten what they had just done. He made a pained noise and started falling back onto the lounge, but Copia caught him just in time, wincing when the stiff wings pressed against his chest.
“Careful there, Pet,” he said, deciding then and there that that would be his nickname for the new Papa, especially when it made Perpetua’s ears turn red.
“Pet?” he asked in a high voice.
“You’re like a little bat,” Copia told him as he helped him to his feet. “A very scratchy bat.”
Perpetua ducked his head and quietly laughed, which made Copia smile.
Apparently, all it took was fucking the new guy to make himself feel better.