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It took a week, one whole week , to convince Secondo to leave the clergy for a mini-vacation. You rented a cabin through some fancy getaway website and, as cliche as it was, it sounds nice. You both need a change of pace from the crowded, stuffy clergy. And though you fondly call the church home, it would be nice to get away from it all. Secondo didn't think quite the same, however. All the anti-pope did was work 24/7 and although he begrudgingly took breaks (which were forced upon him), you knew Secondo needed a good rest from his papal duties.
Over that week of convincing, you had lured him in with promises of how nice the cabin is; a little wooden oasis nestled away in its surrounding forest. It's quiet and, most importantly, the two of you would be all by yourselves with absolutely no interruptions. The idea, thank the Lord below, was appealing enough for Papa to step down for a week and let Terzo have a taste of power. Shocking, I know. But deep down even Secondo couldn't deny that work was starting to get to him, evident in the way his usual fairly pleasant demeanor was turning sour and snappy.
“Have everything packed, Papa?” you ask, meeting Papa in his room at his requested time. He was officially “off work” for the week. You decided to pack early, belongings already tucked neatly into your car with the help of Alpha. Secondo nods absentmindedly at your question, currently occupied with wrestling his bulging suitcase shut. He's nervous to leave, that much is obvious. Secondo is always one to worry about the littlest things. “Si si, I believe so” he answers properly then, zipping his suitcase at last with a labored grunt.
Papa eyes the bag as if he expects it to explode before turning to you, pausing when he meets your raised eyebrow. “Better safe than sorry” he offers, the phrase only confirming your suspicions about his hesitancy to leave. What an old man. You step forward into his space, smiling at the way his hands move to rest on your hips automatically. “We're going to have fun,” you say, or rather promise. Secondo nods, his mustache twitches and you know he's going to say something cocky. “Of course we will. I'm going to be there after all”. Yep.
. . .
The ride to the cabin is long and Alpha insists that both you and Secondo try to rest before your “big week”. This gets him an eye roll and a bark to shut up from Secondo, though there's no real malice behind either action. You end up falling asleep first, lulled under by the sounds of Papa and his fire ghoul chatting away. It's a few hours later that you find yourself being gently poked awake by Secondo, who announces that you've arrived at the cabin. The pair of you gather your belongings and wave Alpha off. Alone at last.
You get a good look at the cabin now, it being much cozier than the pictures online showed. It's an old-fashioned log cabin, with a roomy deck at the front and a fenced balcony protruding from the second floor above. Though the cabin is part of a larger rental service, it's still tucked far away in its own little forest space. The rest of the cabins are miles apart so privacy really isn't an issue. It's nice. Secondo merely gives it a pleased nod, but you know this is a good thing. If he didn't like the cabin he would have said so already.
The pair of you are quick to unpack and settle, trying to acclimate to the space you'd be staying at for a week. You start to fill the kitchen cabinets with snacks you picked up from the store when you catch Secondo pacing around the cabin. It looks like he’s inspecting the place as if he were a landlord. Placing the last item in your bag onto the top self, you make your way over to your Papa. "Secondo," you start, snapping the man out of his daze. He gives you a look that tells you he knows he's being on edge. "You need to relax. For Satan's sake, you've still got your papal paint on" you fuss.
You reach forward then to cup his cheek, thumb brushing over the dried and set paint there. Papa leans into the touch, placing a kiss on your palm but remains silent. Secondo's eyes slip shut and you really get a look at how...tired he is. Exhausted even. You allow him time to gather his thoughts and eventually, he speaks up. "I'm worried," he starts but doesn't finish. It's hard for him to talk about how he feels, too accustomed to asking how his partner feels instead. But you don't let him hide behind that wall anymore.
"About what, Papa?" you press, stepping into his space to wrap an arm around his shoulder. His hands smooth down your arms, your sides, to eventually rest on your hips. You stay like that with him for a beat, letting silence occupy the room as Secondo mulls over what he wants to say. "Mio Fratello, Terzo. I know he's capable, I just…" Papa doesn't finish though, instead letting his words die off. But this time you don't press any further, not wanting to stress him out any more than he already is. But you did want to make something clear.
(Mio Fratello: My brother)
"Secondo, I know you're stressed about leaving the clergy to Terzo for the week but please, try to be here— with me. I want you to let loose and relax" you plead. His mind is still stuck in the clergy and you have every intention of changing that. Papa's eyes blink open and he nods, "I'm here with you, I promise," he says, moving from your palm to kiss your wrist. An idea pops up in your head then; a way for Secondo to truly get his mind off the clergy. Something you've never offered before but think might help. "Papa, can I take your makeup off?".
It was a simple enough request but both you and Secondo know the deeper implications behind it. An Emeritus's papal paint is his status, something that means a lot when gained and even more when taken away. Putting it on was one thing, a ritual of power for Secondo. Taking it off, however, was much more... difficult for the second Emeritus. He felt naked without it, though he had never expressed this to you outwardly. But you could tell at night, when his skin was bare, that he felt lost without his paint. So for you to be the one to strip him of, what he felt was his only identity, was a big deal.
"It's okay if you don-"
"No no. I want you to"
You nod, trying but failing to hide an excited grin from your face. Secondo catches it and merely rolls his eyes with an amused smile. You can tell he is nervous though, the way his hand grips tightly onto your hip. You are quick to instruct him to go sit on the couch though as you all but run into the bathroom to fetch the necessary supplies.
. . .
You have Secondo seated on the couch now, reclined back into the plush cushions. You've plopped yourself down on his lap, per his request since the weight of you on him “feels good”. Beside the couch stands an end table on which you've placed a bowl of warm water and a few washrags. “Ready?” you ask even though it feels a bit silly. But you're glad you do when Secondo sighs, shakily you note, and relaxes back into the couch. His eyes slip shut and you take this as a sign to start. Fishing a rag out of the bowl, you wring it out before dragging it across Secondo’s right cheek. You swipe under his eye, to his ear, and down to his cheek to expose the pale skin underneath. You work on the other side, rubbing up his forehead. You reach over then to swap the paint-stained cloth for a new, warm one.
You come back to work on the lower end of his face, carefully swiping across his nose and mustache. You move down to his… “Secondo?” you ask, worried when you notice the way his bottom lip has started to quiver. You look up then to find his eyes screwed shut. You cup his cheeks in both hands, feeling his clean skin beneath them but don't say anything just yet. You're not even sure what to say. Secondo’s hands fly up then, fingers curling around your wrists. A drop of wetness hits your thumb and you realize, in disbelief, that Secondo is crying. His eyes are open now, downturned, his face turned into your palm. You still catch the tears slowly slipping from his eyes. He looks so...broken. "Lorenzo" you insist, his name coming out as a plea for him to trust you. You've never seen your Papa like this but you want to help.
"Talk to me. Say something," you press, wiping the stray tears from his cheeks. The words come out harsher than you want them to but Secondo snaps out of it, eyes re-focusing. His eyes meet yours and you finally see the sad, wounded man his ghouls always talked about. You've never seen it before, not with how confident and sure Secondo usually was. But that was a side of him everyone got to see. Only you were trusted with his vulnerability. And he was pleading for you now, silently, to see it. "They're going to replace me" he croaks, at last, his voice straining around the words. A few more tears slip from his eyes and he shakes his head, continuing; "I'm not fit to be Papa anymore. I know they see it".
You've been around the family long enough to know this is a fact, not just some conjured-up fear of his. You didn't know it before, but he starts to tell you how this is something he's thought about more and more often. Especially as he’s been aging. The papacy is something he's always clung to, desperate to prove himself time and time again. He always felt so trapped as the middle child, overlooked in both life and career. With a brother before him who kickstarted the band's legacy and one to succeed him who is infinitely more popular than he, Secondo found himself feeling more and more insignificant in recent years. And now that he's run his papal course he feels the end of his rule is near and he feels—
“Terrified” Secondo says, ending his ran. His worries revealed to you now in full. He falls silent then and he looks like he's bracing himself for the worst. He thinks, in the back of his mind, that maybe you'd find this secret side of him off-putting. That this wasn't the confident, always-sure-of-himself Secondo you signed up for. But you didn't sign up for just one side of him. Hell, you didn't sign anything. You willingly wanted to love every part of him from the beginning and you were determined more than ever to show him that now. So you slowly pull him into a hug, resting your head on his shoulder. Suddenly you think back to all the times you've been in this position, venting to Secondo. An urgent desire to return the favor sparks in your mind then.
“Lorenzo, I know I don't understand your situation. I never can. But I want you to know that you're more than Papa to me. I and the whole clergy love you because you're you . You're not just an anti-pope! You're a dog-dad! You love collecting dolls and looking after your ghouls. You love your fans as if they are your own family! You throw the best parties too and everyone, everyone Secondo, loves you. I love you” you rant, breathless at the end of your speech. There's a beat of silence and then Secondo wraps his arms around your waist and squeezes. “Grazie Amore Mio, Grazie” he whispers into your skin, the words coming out shaky but affectionate. You start to pull from Sedondo and he follows, looking much happier now, and you both exchange silent smiles. “Let me show you how much you mean to me,” you grin.
(Grazie Amore Mio, Grazie: thank you, my love, thank you)
A thick eyebrow quirks up at you in response, Secondo squinting his eyes at you suspiciously. “And how will you do that, pet?” he asks. And for a moment you really, really, just want to let him take control like he always does. It's that damn accent. That damn pet name. But you don't! You won't! You plan to be in charge tonight. You clear your throat, ignoring the blush starting to tint your cheeks from the nickname. Of course the bastard notices and smirks but you continue on. “You always take such good care of me. I want to return the favor. I want to take control” you say, as confidently as humanly possible. Secondo’s smirk falters just a bit, his eyes flash with uncertainty so you hit him with a good ol' “Please, Papa?”. He boldens then, a flicker of intrigue in his gaze now. He's curious to see what exactly you have in mind. How you'll “take control” as you say.
“Well then. Let's see what you've got,” he says and it's all the encouragement you need.
. . .
You're in the bedroom with Secondo now, having already instructed him to strip and lay stomach down on the bed. While he had busied himself with that, you had snooped around the bathroom and found some massage oil. Lucky even if it seemed a little cliche. You were just now finishing getting your supplies organized, sneaking little peaks at Secondo as he shifted to settle into the mattress. Finally, he stilled, laying flat on his stomach with a pillow tucked under his folded arms. “Comfy?” you chuckle, crawling onto the bed and planting yourself on the back of his thighs. He hums, nodding, “very” is his muffled response. Before this Secondo admitted he's never had a massage. No pressure, right? But truthfully you didn't think he cared, he seemed more preoccupied with how vulnerable the position was starting to make him feel. But you wouldn't let him slip into that toxic thinking.
You retrieve the bottle of oil from the side of the bed and pour a generous pool onto his skin. "Satanas! That's cold" he grumbles, not really mad. Oops. He looks back at you with a playful glare that says; “I'd never do that, as an experienced dominant”. He'd heat the oil up, blah blah. You give him a look though and he settles. "Well it's a good thing I'm here to warm you up then, hm?" you say, presenting your palms to him, wiggling your fingers with a cheeky grin. Papa only rolls his eyes and snorts. You don't mention the way he smiles into the crook of his elbow, the way his eyes crinkle and laugh lines show. He doesn't need to know you saw it. Doesn't need to know that he's really horrible at pretending he's all big and bad.
You start to rub the massage oil into his skin now, starting at his lower back. You move your hands upward on both sides of his spine, slowly, using your thumbs to press firm circles all the way up to Secondo’s shoulders. He's stiff there, the muscles taut, so you start to press harder. A quiet groan escapes Secondo then and he shifts to bury his face further into the crook of his elbow. You let him hide away for now. You go down his back again and then up, continuing this for a bit until he relaxes with a deep (old man) sigh. It almost makes you laugh but you bite your tongue. Your hands follow his spine as a guideline down to his ass. Belial below, his perfect ass.
"You have a nice ass"
"Mm, I know”
You roll your eyes, swatting it playfully as he lets out a laugh. It's wheezy, probably unattractive to anyone else, but you adore it. “No fair. You don't let me get all smart-mouthed” you mumble. This makes him chuckle some more and remark how he's “the 'superior' dom”. So he wants to play like that, huh? With no shame whatsoever you take two good handfuls and squeeze, relishing in the way it makes Secondo squirm underneath you with the tiniest whine. Gotcha. But you don't stop there. You need to put him in his place. Another squeeze, only this time you pull his cheeks apart ever so slightly, revealing his hole. “Amore,” he threatens and fails, sounding more flustered than anything. Secondo was never the shy type in bed, that is until the attention got turned on him. He wasn't used to receiving, always the type to give and give and give. Well, he wouldn't get that power tonight.
After a few more shameless butt gropes, you give it a gentle pat. “Turn around for me,” you say, shifting off the back of his thighs to allow him room to roll over. He settles on his back then and you plant yourself on his thighs again. You take him in and can't help but smile like an idiot. Satan, he's so beautiful. “What?” Papa questions, a little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Cheeky bastard knows how he renders you utterly speechless. But you can't even be mad about it. “You're so beautiful, Secondo, so handsome” you breathe out, reaching forward to cup his cheek. You feel the warmth of a flush there, see the way his cheeks start to tint pink. That shit-eating grin is gone now, and in its place, his mouth hangs open slightly. It's as if he can't believe you're singing those praises about him.
He makes a “pah” noise, dismissive, but you don't let him win. “My perfect, gorgeous, strong Papa” you insist, catching his turning face with one hand and pressing a kiss to his lips. He resists it for a bit trying to be stubborn but eventually melts, returning the kiss. What starts chaste swelters into a hotter, more insistent kiss. It's almost silly the way your teeth clack together and your noses smush in the desperation of it all. But soon you need air so you pull back, grunting when Secondo catches your lip and tugs. For a second you wonder if he drew any blood but at this point, you don't even care.
You start to pull away from Secondo, dragging your nails down his chest as you slowly sit upright once more. Reaching over, you locate the bottle of massage oil and pour a generous amount into a palm. This time you make sure to warm it up. Beneath you, Secondo follows the slide of your palms, eyes lidded. You start the massage at his chest, smoothing up and down his pecs. Watching his skin glisten, noting nail marks starting to redden down his chest. Secondo’s breath stutters, his eyes slipping shut when your palms glide against his nipples. You've found he's hopelessly sensitive there so you give them a little love, rolling and pinching at the stiff buds. You bite back a chuckle when Secondo jolts at the sudden treatment, chest heaving.
Your hands continue their descent down to his stomach now. He's soft there, a little pudgy, due to age. “Stunning” you whisper, smoothing your hands over his skin. His stretch marks are traced one by one with your index finger, each and every one just as beautiful as the last. Secondo sighs, still trying to steady his breath. The praise isn't helping, you can tell by the way his cock kicks at each endearment. Your hands dip down to his hips, digging your thumbs into either side of his pelvis. You're dangerously close to his cock now and he's starting to get desperate. You can feel it, the way his hips twitch up just barely underneath your hands. He mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like a please but he won't beg aloud. He isn't there just yet but you'll bring him to that edge soon enough.
His hands move to grip your hips but you’re quick to move off him, shifting back to stand in front of the bed instead. His eyebrows furrow, confused, but then he remembers the deal earlier. That cockyness he expertly exudes rushes back to him as he folds his arms behind his head, his skin glistening and cock laying stiff on his stomach. A picture of utter confidence. “Do your worst” he taunts, a playful glint in his eye. He doesn't plan to give up easily. But you don't plan to go easy on him.
Now it's time for some real teasing. Slowly, you run your hand up your stomach where it finally comes to rest underneath your chest. Papa watches, unable to tear his eyes off you as you slowly start to unbutton your shirt. He follows your fingers, button by button. You shrug the garment off your shoulders, letting it fall to the ground, basking in Secondo's hungry gaze. He looks like he wants to jump up and pull you back to the bed to have his way with you. But he doesn't because there's an unsaid scene playing out and he wants to go along with it.
With your shirt gone you hook your thumbs into your pants. Pulling them down slowly, you toss them to the floor and move on to your underwear. You tease yourself through the fabric, just for a moment, watching Papa's chest heave. His body is starting to betray him. You slip your underwear off slowly and you can't help but shiver at the way Secondo takes your body in. You surge forward then, crawling onto the bed to slot yourself between Secondo's legs that spread for you willingly.
“How about I suck your cock? Would you like that, Papa?" you ask, making little circles on his thigh with one hand. His thigh twitches just barely, almost so that you don't register it. But his desperation is there and starting to coil. “You're making me ask for such a simple thing?" he scoffs, a challenge. You can tell it is by the way his eyes crinkle, a smirk forming on his stupid smug face. You give him a sweet smile before flicking his cock, hard, delighted in the way he jolts and gasps at the sudden pain. He didn't see that one coming.
“Tonight, you're going to beg for everything " you sneer. The papa’s throat bobs and for a second and you think he's going to beg…but he doesn't. Oh well, his loss. And boy the face he makes when you pull away from his cock. You watch in delight as he struggles to reign in his utter disappointment, trying to remain composed. It's too good. You aren't done teasing him though which is why you pull him in for a kiss. It's hungry and demanding, less gentle than the one earlier this morning. It leaves you both breathless when you pull away for air. Secondo rises then as if he wants to roll you both over but you push him back onto the bed. “Stay” you order and watch as Secondo’s eyes widen just a bit. Interesting. He lowers then, slowly, eyes still on you, unwavering. Secondo is absolutely enthralled and eager to see what your next move is.
You start to kiss down his body now, open-mouthed and hot. His neck is lavished with little nibbles and sucks and you make sure to leave a few hickies. Under the collar line, of course. Your kisses continue down, following the line of his collarbone and down towards his chest. It's there that you remember that Secondo’s nipples are sensitive. Time to test just how much. You take one in your mouth, and it’s as if all the air has been knocked out of the man beneath you. A strained moan bubbles up from his chest, his hand shifting up to cover his mouth. That won't do. You pull from him and are quick to grab both wrists and pin them above his head. You push them into the mattress, “keep them here or I'll punish you”. You don't know exactly what the punishment would even be or if Secondo even believes you but he stays nonetheless.
You remove your hands, pleased to find Secondo staying put as ordered, and continue your trail of kisses. You give his stomach some love, nibbling the soft skin there and indulging in a few gropes. Papa is starting to get fidgety now that you're close to his cock again. He needs it but doesn't say so just yet. But he will. You lock eyes with your Papa then as you slowly slip down between his legs once more. Humming, you place a kiss right above his cock, on his abdomen, with a smirk. Secondo’s eyebrow’s furrow then and chews at his lip. C’mon…say it. You know you want to. “Please” he breathes out, voice soft and wavering. He hates this part but loves it, all the same, it's a strange twisted feeling.
“Please what?” you ask, faux innocence souring your words beautifully. Though you've taken control in the bed a fair share of times you've never made Secondo outwardly beg for what he wants. He's a proud man who takes what he wants. But he'll beg for you. Secondo huffs, frustrated, but tries again. “Please, suck my cock” he answers at last. His voice pitching slightly higher. You smile then, pleased, and move down to drag your tongue up and over the head of his cock. You collect the salty bead of precum there and make a show of coating your lips in it. Secondo's brow furrows even more, and he exhales steadily, doing everything in his power to exercise some restraint.
You dip down then to lick a stripe up his cock, catching more precum. When he moans, you move lower, swirling your tongue down to his balls to lick and suckle at the soft skin there. His hips buck slightly, his groans slowly rising in pitch as you finally trail your tongue down over his perineum, teasing your tongue in circles there for a second. Papa lets out a shaky gasp, and his balls tighten where they’re pressed against your cheek. You lick one more lazily line up his cock then only to take him fully, steadying yourself when Secondo’s hips jerk up. You keep him in your throat for a bit longer before bobbing, your hand gripping his base tightly. Once you deem him wet enough, you pull off, eyes catching a string of spit and precum that connects your mouth to his cock.
“Fuck me” he pleads, lidded eyes looking down at you. You nod, just as urgent, getting up to your knees to search for the massage oil. You pour a good amount onto your hand, slicking your hole and his cock just to be safe. Beside the oil rests a condom, one that you had placed there just in case things got frisky. And frisky things did get. Secondo always carries them in his coat pocket so it wasn't hard to find. You toss the packet, which literally has Secondo printed on it, to him. “That's so cheesy” you laugh, watching Papa roll the condom onto his cock. He shrugs, chuckling himself, “they work like a charm though” is all he retorts.
You crawl back onto his thighs now, dipping down for a kiss, breaking the scene for just a moment. It's gentle, reassuring. He smooths his hands up your arms, to your face to cup it before lifting his arms and keeping them above his head once more. The scene falls back into place. “Ready for me?” you ask, reaching behind to push Secondo against your hole, teasing. He nods, letting out a little grunt, “Si, please. Fuck me, amore” he says, shifting his hips to slowly grind against your slick opening. Pleased with his proper begging, you slowly start to sink down onto him. The two of you moan in tandem, relief washing over like a wave.
His hips buck up into you then. You can tell Papa feels the instinct to set the pace already. It's then that his hands fly forwards to rest on your hips and bring them down on his cock. And before you can stop yourself you slap him, hard , right across the face. Secondo’s mouth drops open. You’re just as surprised as he is but you decide to go with the flow. You wrestle his wrists with one hand, pinning them above his head once more, while the other reaches up to tighten around his throat. "I said stay" you spit, almost worried you're going too far. But then Papa’s eyelids flutter and the sweetest whimper leaves his lips, a shudder running up his entire body. And you know you've won.
You set a harsh pace then, not giving Papa the luxury of working up to it. You slam your hips down onto him, mercilessly, over and over and over. It's bruising but delicious. Any sense of composure is lost now, Secondo being far too teased and pent up to care. And with the way you're fucking down onto him, enough to press him into the bed? He's a goner. Secondo’s deep grunts transform into high, breathy moans of desperation as his legs shake with the force of each thrust down onto him. “Per favore, per favore, per favore. Oh fottimi, ti senti così bene!” he gasps out, words slurred and strained from the grip on his throat. You squeeze harder then, cutting his air off, and watch as his eyes roll back. It's almost enough to make you cum.
(Per favore, per favore, per favore. Oh fottimi, ti senti così bene: Please please, please. Oh fuck me, you feel so good)
You remove your hand from his neck to allow him air now, enthralled in the way his breath catches as he tries to suck more in. Now you can really hear the way his composed grunts have turned into desperate whimpers and whines. It's obvious that he's close too, his cock twitching inside you insistently. So you feel the need to ask, “Are you close, Papa?”. The anti-pope nods, dazed, and utters a small “per favore”. He knows though, deep down, that he needs to wait for permission and it's maddening. You don't give it to him just yet either, instead slowing your hips to a tortuous, deep grind. “Please what, Lorenzo?” you nudge, wanting to hear the words. Secondo’s eyes flutter open, his white eye nearly glowing. “Please let me cum”.
It's only with a few more deeper, harsher thrusts and an affirmation that has Secondo’s hips arching off the bed impossibly deeper into you. You both stutter, shaking and releasing in unison. It's enough to make you see stars. Worn out, you collapse onto Secondo, resting your head on his chest. You stay like that with him for a moment just breathing together and settling. It's your turn to whimper as you shift forward, feeling Secondo slip out of you. You roll to your side then, slotting yourself beside Secondo, as he reaches forward to roll the condom off. He ties it and unceremoniously flings it onto the ground. His hands move to your hips, rubbing up and down your side. “Thank you, my love, that was” he pauses to hum, “perfect”.
You chuckle, leaning up to kiss underneath his jaw. “You're welcome, Papa” you grin, unseen by him, before gripping his cock. You give it a few long but quick pumps, giggling when he starts to flail. His hand reaches for your wrist weakly, “Fuck fuck fuck no more. Mercy, mercy please” he cries out as you torture him. After a few more pumps you let go, putting on your most innocent face as you look up at your Papa and bat your eyelashes teasingly. You aren't smug for long though as you're suddenly manhandled onto your back. Secondo slots himself between your thighs now, gripping onto them harshly. “Papa?” you ask, oddly nervous from the way he's glaring at you. It's not an angry gaze though, it's hunger.
“You've had your fun, pet, but now it's Papa’s turn. And I have all week to show you who's really boss”. And really, you can't say no to that. So you lay back and brace yourself for the long, perfect week ahead of you.