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He has a firm hand, was what his hazed mind supplied him with as his Eminence, the Dean of the College, laid his hand on Ray’s upper arm to support him. The Dean’s tight hold creased the woollen fabric of his cassock, worry displayed in his darkened eyes, eyebrows drawn “Ray, when was the last time you rested?”
Ray glanced away, hands grasping at his clipboard with today’s notes. Lord forgive him, he could never hold the Dean’s gaze whenever he looked at him in this softly intending way, voice thin laced with authority, coaxing out whatever he wanted from him. Did he ever realise what he was doing, Ray asked himself often enough. “Don’t worry about me, Your Eminence.” He couldn’t lie to him and he wouldn’t, but Ray also couldn’t tell him the truth. If he would, it would send the already overwhelmed Dean into a certain frenzy of worry for him. And this simply shouldn’t be, at all. The Dean, again in his black cassock with it’s scarlet buttons and out of the same scarlet cassock; almost foreign to him now with the frantic few days behind them, was himself flooded with meetings and papers. Hasting from one end of the Vatican to the other, never far from the Holy Father. He looked thin, even thinner than during the Conclave, where Ray was told; because of course he was told, that his Eminence was barely eating and spend his time fretting.
“Ray,” the Dean’s hold tightened again; sending his heart aflutter. Stepping closer to him, the Dean looked up, chasing his gaze, “Come, take rest at least in my room. No one will seek you out there.”
Taking a tentative step back, the Dean’s hand fell away, a sudden emptiness at its’ place. Ray shook his head, a small denial, “I have to-“
The Dean grasped Ray’s wrist as it fell away from his arm, engulfing it fully. Halting Ray’s small retreat with shock; the Dean was no man of touch or familiarity. There was always a distance to him. He kept to himself. Holding everything tight to his chest, only letting a few close. Bellini being one of the precious few with the new appointed Holy Father being quickly allowed into the shepherd’s flock. And how couldn’t he? He was the Holy Father, embodiment of Christ. Soft spoken with dark kind eyes, an attractive grace to him, letting a gentle spirit come forth in everyone. Even Tedesco begrudgingly admitted that Papa Innocentius was what the Mother Church needed right now.
“No, Ray.” The Dean spoke exasperated at his wide eyed look, “You will take rest. Good God man, you’re barely holding yourself afoot with your exhaustion.”
His breath sized, Lord; his Eminence rarely used such stern voice with him. Never demanded of him. Always asking. He knew that Ray would leap at any opportunity to assist him, surely he must. Knew how to coax Ray to gather or do anything for him, even when met with small hesitance. “Use my authority.” Still echoed in Ray’s mind, giving him secured reassurance since then in hardened moments. Such need, such trust placed in him. Allowing Ray to go, while he was still sequestered, unknowing to the outer worlds doings, and permitting him to use the authority of his name; Cardinal Lawrence, Dean of the College of Cardinals. Perhaps, it struck him, he was part of the flock.
“Eminence.” Ray croaked out, voice stuck at the back of his throat.
“Say no more.” Lawrence moved, laying his hand at the small of his back, successfully floundering any arising thought of protest, stirring him to move, “The Vatican will hold itself afloat without you for the few hours, in which you’ll take rest.”
Stepping out into the Vatican Gardens in brisk steps, Lawrence ushered him across the place to the Casa Santa Marta, where he still took up residence after the Conclave, like few others Cardinals, awaiting for order to return. And, as Ray thought, keep close to Innocentius for just now, who refused to move into the papal apartment and insisted to take residence in the hotel in the exact room, that was assigned to him at the day of his late arrival. Just like the late Holy Father. May his soul rest and not concern itself with the earthly work of their everyday doings. He surely had enough of such in his living days. Smiling quietly to himself, unwilling to break the eased silence, that had settled around the two of them.
Following now behind Lawrence up the stairs to his room, Ray clamped his hands around his clipboard again; for the peace that had settled around him at their walk across the gardens had abandoned him at the threshold of the hotel. Awful nervousness settled low in him; shallowing his breath. It was by no means the first time that the Dean had insisted that he rested or took a small break to clean his head and regained strength. Few of them had even ended up with both of them in one of the other’s office, enjoying a quick conversation with tea in hand or praying together, hands clasped or just kneeling together, depending on the exhaustion of the day. In very few instances, Ray was ashamed to admit, he even fell asleep sitting in an armchair, listening to the Dean’s soft voice bidding him to go to a secure realm with nonsensical talk.
But all this was always held in respectable, professional places. His room, the Dean’s room, in which he had lived for over a week now, was no such thing. Here he was himself. And he allowed Ray to step into it, into such a private place, where it was lived in with its’ crumbled bed and the choir dress hanging on the door. Ray stood at the door, unsure with himself.
The Dean glanced up to him as if across the rim of his glasses, stepping back to him. And Ray felt like retreating back again, pressing his back against the closed door with emotional turmoil coiling up in him. But he did no such thing. Even if he wanted. Wanted the Dean to approach him with his own back pressed against the door, like a predator after its’ prey. Holding him there with his firm hand.
But no, no he would never allow himself to cast the Dean to such sin.
“Come.” Lawrence spoke in an almost susurrus voice, as if the fear of breaking the silence has seized him too, all the while taking the clipboard out of his still clamped hands and moving to place it on his cramped desk with his zucchetto next to it. “Ray.” He huffed, eyes crinkled with small smile, seeing him still standing at the door, beckoning him to come with flicks of his fingers, where he now stood next to the bed. And Ray moved, following the silent call, feeling himself more like an obedient dog with the gesture but he knew, this was like the stern voice, rarely used on him but instead of it being used to get him to do a task, it was one used in crowded rooms. Discrete, only to get his attention without anyone else’s. A call of the shepherd to the sheep to come back to its master’s sanctuary.
Ray stepped up to his Eminence, heart thundering, hands shaking. He felt out of his depth. This felt surreal.
Surly, the Dean wouldn’t- No, even the slightest notion of this thought was impossible.
But if; would Ray allow himself to succumb?
And the answer he tried to desperately hid from himself put the Fear of the Lord in him.
“Ray, dear child.” Lawrence chided, hands coming up to cradle his cheeks, “You’re ashen. Sleep in my bed. Take rest, I’ll wake you in time.”
The hands were rough with age, cold to the touch. Ray reached up, grasping the wrists with his, feeling a moment of madness arise in him, “Sleep with me.”
There was a cacophony of noise arising in the back of his mind, blinding him. Ray yelped in horror, only held in place by the firm pair of hands still cradling him, or else he had taken up to flee. Out of the Vatican preferably.
Amusement was etched into the Dean’s face, tired eyes full with mirth, “The sin of poor wording.”
Ray closed his eyes, feeling the heat on his cheeks rise, “Forgive me.”
“Tired minds think alike, I fear.” Lord please let him stop there, Ray pleaded internally, eyes briefly flickering up, or I will end up seeing the Late Holy Father sooner than anticipated. “I was about to ask you, if you would mind sharing the bed with me.”
Ray took the Dean’s hands in his, holding them between them, “With our follies right now, Eminence, I fear refusing your ask would cause the Mother Church to sink into chaos within the remaining day.”