Chapter Text
You haven’t seen Papa for a couple of days, which normally wouldn’t be so bad, but you are his personal assistant and the mountain of paperwork he has been neglecting just keeps getting higher and higher. He had fled from his office on Friday afternoon, declaring that he would be drinking and partying all weekend, so if you needed anything, you would just have to wait. But now that Monday and Tuesday had come and gone, you were honestly beginning to get a little worried. There was nothing else you could do except go to his rooms and check that he hadn’t died. You highly doubted that anything bad had happened to him, but you needed to at least check. You hope that you don’t walk in on him while he is in the middle of someone, or two someones again. You are by no means a prude, but there are just some things you didn’t want to see, or hear right now.
You paced outside his bedroom door, trying to mentally prepare yourself for what was to come. If he was still drunk then you would have to deal with lecherous Papa, if he was hungover, you would have to deal with raging ball of fury Papa or whiny baby Papa. None of the options before you sounded appealing. But you knew that Papa Nihil would be asking questions about paperwork and other things soon. It was better to just get it over with. Taking a deep breath you knock loudly on his door.
“Papa? Are you in there?
“Go away!”
The response was immediate, so he wasn’t still drunk which made things easier. He was however in a terrible mood.
“Papa do you know what day it is?”
“It’s go away day.”
You sigh, this was going to take hours. “It’s Wednesday Papa, there are so many things that need to be done. Now you can either come out and do them yourself, or I will come in there and drag you out.”
Silence.
You reach into your pocket and pull out a spare key to his room. When he had given it to you, he had expected that you would visit him on some lonely nights, but you never had. You only ever used it in moments like these. “Fine! I’m coming in!” you announce.
The door swung open to a room that was cast in complete darkness. It took your eyes a few seconds to adjust, but you quickly found the light and turned it to its lowest setting before entering the room and closing the door behind you. In the middle of the room was an almost comically large four poster bed. It was covered in dark purple silk sheets and pillows. It was a bed fit for a king and of course, above the bed was a couple of large mirrors attached to the ceiling. As your eyes continued to adjust to the darkness, you could just make out a large lump in the middle of the bed. The large lump was Papa, curled into a ball, buried beneath mountains of covers. You were tempted rip the covers off him and throw them across the room, but the last time you had done that, you discovered that Papa likes to sleep naked. Instead you settled on opening the curtains to let a little more light into the room. Then you opened a window to let some fresh air in, it smelled like a brewery in his room.
“When was the last time you ate?” you asked.
He poked his face out of the blankets. His makeup was smeared, but it was still there. “I don’t know,” he mumbles. He sounds absolutely miserable and it sends a stab of pain through your heart.
“Do you want me to get you something?”
The change in his demeanor was almost instant. He didn’t sit up, but he looked a lot happier, “what is on the menu?”
You fight the urge to roll your eyes at him, “no menu. You’ve already slept passed lunch and dinner isn’t until much later. You’ll just have to eat whatever I give you.”
Papa mumbles under his breath. No doubt it was something entirely ungrateful and full of expletives. He pulls the blankets back up over his head. Despite being intensely popular with most of the Brothers and Sisters of Sin, Papa couldn’t keep an assistant around for very long because no one could handle him when he gets in one of his moods. You had been his assistant for a couple of years now, but before then, his assistants had changed monthly, sometimes more frequently.
This time you didn’t bother to hide the rolling of your eyes. He was acting like a spoilt child as he usually did when things didn’t go the way he wanted them to. It was infuriating. “I will go and get you something to eat, but I want you at least showered before I come back,” you scold him like you are his mother. “And put some underwear on!”
He raises an arm out of the blankets and waves at you, “si capo!”
“I’m serious Papa!” you say before leaving and slamming the door behind you.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
All you had to do was mention that the food was for Papa and everyone in the kitchen fell over themselves to give things to you. You had a tray filled with french toast, scrambled eggs, poached eggs, crisp bacon, sausages and even a small vegetable lasagna. It was difficult to carry it all the way back to his room, but he would never forgive you if you let someone else see him at anything less than his best. He would be unbearable to deal with.
You managed to undo the door and then kick it open the rest of the way. Instead of helping, Papa was sitting in the middle of his bed, propped up against the pillows, his skull paint perfectly applied. His hair was still wet, so at least he had showered, but he wasn’t wearing anything on his top half, so you didn’t hold out much hope that he remembered to put underwear on. Small victories were still victories though, and you would have to take whatever you could get. He still looked a little miserable, and he was being unusually quiet. When he was like this you had to tread carefully. He had a sharp tongue when he was upset and he didn’t really care who he unleashed it on. You placed the tray down next to him and perched on the edge of the bed watching him cautiously.
He ate without speaking, almost inhaling the food. He mustn’t have left his room for at least 2 days. You can’t help but think that maybe you should have checked on him sooner. When he finished he set the tray on the table on the other side of him. He took a deep breath, “are you not going to ask me what is wrong? Where is your concern for your Papa?” There was an undertone of sadness mixed into his voice.
“I came to check on you didn’t I?”
He gave you an angry look, “it’s Wednesday, why didn’t you come sooner? I could have been dead.”
You fought the urge to make a comment about that being the job of his current lover, whosoever that happened to be. “Last time I checked on you, you were furious that I interrupted your private time. You threatened to have me thrown out and excommunicated,” you replied with a level tone. You knew that he wouldn’t remember ever saying that, but it was something that you could never forget. The church was all that you had and you were terrified at the thought of losing it so easily.
Papa glares at you and mumbles something in Italian under his breath.
“What is wrong Papa?” you asked finally giving him what he wanted.
“Isn’t it obvious what is wrong with me?” he whined.
You look him up and down, his makeup was perfect, his hair was perfect, he didn’t appear to be bleeding or bruised in any way. He didn’t even look like he had put on any weight either. He looked the same as the last time you saw him. “You look immaculate as always Papa.”
His eyes widened, “No I don’t! I look terrible! Come closer and look!”
You kicked off your shoes and shuffled closer to him on the bed. In all honesty, you were attracted to Papa, but most, if not all of that relied on his looks. His personality was too high maintenance for you to consider him romantically. Not to mention that you weren’t the type of person who ever wanted to share a partner. Despite knowing all that, you still couldn’t keep the blush from colouring your face.
You cupped his face, turning it from side to side, examining him critically. “Nothing is different Papa.”
“I know my face is still perfect,” he said smugly. “You are looking in the wrong place.”
You let out an exhausted sigh, “if all of this has been a ploy to get me to look at your pe-”
“No! No! Sister, your mind is always in the gutter,” he tutted.
You could feel your temper rising, but you swallowed it down. “Then where should I be looking Papa?” you do your best to keep your tone even. There was so much work that still had to be done and here Papa was, playing games with you.
Papa pouted, “you are mad at me Sister? Fine, fine, I’ll tell you.” He picked a single strand of hair from his head and bowed his head to show you. “See! It is grey Sister! Everything is over for me now. The beautiful young Brothers and Sisters won’t want me anymore. I’m old and grey like Nihil.”
You squinted at the strand of hair in question, it was definitely grey. “All of this drama for a single grey hair Papa?”
“Of course! You know, my brother, one day he had a grey hair, and then the next, boom! Bald! I won’t look good bald Sister. It’s all over now!”
“You could always get a wig…” you suggest.
“A wig?” Papa wailed dramatically, “that will be super attractive. Can you imagine, I’m in the middle of performing oral sex, felatio or cunninglingus, you choose, my partner grabs my hair in ecstasy and then rips the whole thing off! I would never be able to show my face in public again!”
You burst out laughing, you couldn’t stop yourself. You could see Papa’s expression darken as your laughter continued, but you still couldn’t stop.
“Yes, yes, very funny Sister. My horrible future is so funny for you,” he grumbles crossing his arms over his chest.
“I’m sorry Papa,” you say, though he can tell you aren’t being sincere. “It is only one hair Papa, you could just leave it. Ladies like men with grey hair.”
“No they don’t,” he waved his hand dismissively at you. “It is all over for me now. I’ll never get laid again.”
You pull your phone out of your pocket, “stop being dramatic and look at this,” you say. He leans over and watches as you bring up google images.
His head rests on your shoulder, “I see nothing Sister.”
“Be patient,” you scold. “See, men with greying hair are called silver foxes, they’re all still hot right?”
Papa snatches your phone out of your hands and scrolls through the images, the sadness on his face slowly fades away the longer he scrolls. “Yes Sister, you are right these men are still hot. Especially Jeff Goldblum, he could have me any way he wanted me. He looks like he would know how to take care of Papa. Be rough with Papa, but not too rough...” he trails off. As he changes to referring to himself as Papa, you know that his mood was changing for the better.
“So your life is not over anymore?”
“No,” he says simply. Before you know what is going on, Papa grabs your face, turning it towards his. You can feel your heart hammering in your chest as he leans in closer. “Only you come to check on Papa, only you care about Papa.”
You open your mouth to protest, but he places his finger on it effectively shutting you up. He’s too close. His finger is too soft on your lips.He takes it away before you can succumb to the urge to take it into your mouth. It would be so easy to lose yourself in Papa.
“Maybe you just come to Papa because it is your job. But cheering Papa up is not your job Sister. You are good to your Papa, you treat Papa well. But Papa doesn’t always treat you well. Sometimes I lose my temper and say bad things. I am sorry. I would never make you leave here, here is your home.”
You feel tears begin to well up in your eyes, but if Papa notices them, he just ignores them. He leans in closer until you can feel his breath on your face. It’s too much for you, he is too close. In a flash Papa moves forward and kisses your lips, “don’t ever leave your Papa, okay?” he pulls away and lets go of your face as if nothing had happened.
Papa throws back the covers and leaps out of bed. Your relieved to see that he had indeed put underwear on like you had told him to. You couldn’t handle a completely naked Papa right now, if he made a move on you, you wouldn’t be able to find the inner strength to stop him. It was getting harder and harder to deny your attraction to him. What you needed was to get laid and soon.
“We have a lot of work to do Sister, don’t just sit there looking at how great my ass looks in these underwear,” he winks at you as he slaps his own ass.
“Lucifer below, you are insufferable!” you pick up one of his pillows and throw it, hitting him square in the middle of his face. He just laughs at you, the light finally returning to his eyes.