Archive of Our Own ^beta

“How do you think,” Ralph says, in that light and flippant tone he uses, as Stanley already knows, when talking about things that truly matter to him, “what sort of relationship do they have? Thomas and Aldo.”

They are sitting in a tiny family-owned trattoria, hidden away in a narrow street in the very heart of Rome. No eye-catching signs, no tables outside by the entrance—you won’t find it without knowing where to look, and the only thing that brought them here is Ralph's unerring intuition which led him to simply take a look inside, behind the welcomingly open door.

“I think they are close,” Stanley answers reservedly. Ralph gives him a disapproving, though sly look, as he always does when Stanley tries to hide behind evasive phrasings. They both know too well how to handle words and intonations—and therefore, instantly recognize the false notes themselves.

“You know what I mean,” Ralph says patiently. “How close?”

Straightforwardness is no less of a tool than evasiveness, but it is something they both know how to use too.

Stanley raises his eyebrows mockingly. “What, like those poor lonely boys from seminaries who mistake friendly sentiments for sexual attraction?”

Raph’s smile is hypnotic and bright, as if he heard a very good joke.

“Oh, I’ve known quite a few seminary boys. But you must admit, carrying a deep affection for a comrade and a brother-in-arms through your whole life is not the same as exploring your sexuality with a roommate for lack of a better option.”

Stanley picks up his glass and swirls the wine, considering his answer. He knows—or at least he thinks he knows—what Ralph is trying to do here. But his question awakens Stanley’s agile mind nevertheless, and he can’t simply stop the wheels from turning.

“I think—” he says after a minute or so; and Ralph is probably no longer expecting an answer, but Stanley feels somehow obliged to give it. “I think you might not be wrong. There must be a reason for Aldo to be so concerned about gay rights, so it’s probable that either him, or someone close to him is gay.”

“Or he might have simply seen a lot of discrimination in his flock”, Ralph points out. But Stanley can see the pleased look in his eyes and he knows Ralph is just teasing him rather than making a serious objection.

This is also something they are used to: helping each other's line of reasoning, asking counter questions, testing arguments and probing their strength. Indirectly leading to the right answer.

The right one—or the one they want to get.

“He might have,” Stanley agrees. “But he brings it up a bit too often, and the way he talks about it tells me it’s something personal. And probably directly connected to those mistakes of his past that make him feel unworthy of the Holy See.”

There's a hint of a smile appearing at the corners of Ralph’s lips, but he doesn't state the obvious: Stanley has been thinking about this too.

Stanley takes a sip of his wine. “However,” he continues, “I don’t think there’s any kind of a sexual relationship between Aldo and Thomas. Thomas's doubts seem to me to be of a completely different nature, unrelated to the temptations of the flesh.”

Ralph takes a sip from his own glass and nods, smiling flippantly, as if this whole conversation is only to pass the time. As if it doesn’t have another layer to it.

“I, too, think his doubts arise rather from confusion of mind than anything else. But have you noticed the effect Aldo has on him, the way his confusion only grows stronger with each conversation they have? The way it becomes harder for him to see his goal clearly, and the need to hear God’s voice fades and gets lost in the need for Aldo's approval?”

Stanley leans back in his chair, shortly tapping his fingers on the tabletop. “It’s an interesting thought,” he says finally. “I wouldn’t say I’d read it the same way, but it does sound interesting. So what does Thomas’ arc conclude with then?”

“It concludes with him accepting that nothing is certain or absolute,” Ralph says softly, but Stanley can hear a hidden triumph in his voice. “In other words, with him accepting the very postulate he pronounces before the conclave, without yet believing it in his heart. He has overcome the confusion of the mind. But has Aldo been able to overcome the temptations of the flesh?”

Stanley looks at him for a long moment, and then suddenly starts laughing. He laughs uncontrollably, unable to stop, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. He brushes them away, still laughing.

Ralph just smiles at him, his smile hypnotic and bright, and Stanley can’t help but think, once again, of how that smile combines an innocent sincerity with something devilish. As if Ralph himself doesn’t know the power it gives him over others; but of course he does. There is no way he doesn’t.

Stanley finally manages to pull himself together and then shakes his head. “I think Thomas cares about Aldo very much,” he says, suddenly feeling incredibly tired, as if he had spent all his energy fighting this strange, inexplicable laughter. “But I don’t think he has to fight any kind of temptation. I believe his vows are unbreakable to him, no matter what doubts he may have.”

“So, what you are trying to say is that it is a question of loyalty to the vows, not faith?” Ralph’s smile fades a little, his eyes become sharper, and though his tone still seems carefree, there is a certain weight to it now.

Stanley isn’t sure whether this question still refers to the characters they play, but his answer is still the same.

“One can’t reach a certain age without ever having a crisis of faith,” he says in a low, careful voice. “It doesn’t even take a cardinal. Faith is abstract. Commitments are concrete. They are like the slabs that remain under your feet even when there is no road to see. And when you find your road again, these slabs make it even more solid.” He knows quite clearly now he’s not talking about religion anymore, but he is not going to explain it.

“It must be very hard to explain to yourself why you cannot have what you want,” Ralph says after a long pause. “But I think I get it.”

No, you don’t, Stanley thinks. But it’s okay. You can’t understand the value of things you’ve never experienced yourself.

It’s not really that hard to resist temptations as long as you have your priorities straight. And Stanley allows himself to enjoy Ralph's company, and his hypnotic smiles, and his soft voice with those delightful childish undertones that slip through every now and then. He lets Ralph drag him into heated arguments about everything, even when the subject is not really much of an interest to either of them. He follows him around, and lets him lead, and allows him nearly anything. And then, when Ralph almost drives him into a corner, he slips away, leaving him disappointed but pleased. After all, Ralph knows too well that he will not achieve anything, but doesn’t give up trying, and Stanley can't help but enjoy it too.

Perhaps in another life he would gladly succumb to this careful, subtle seduction, but, like Aldo Bellini, he is protected by the oath he has taken.

And by the fact that he truly loves his wife.