Archive of Our Own

Petrichor: a pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather. 

 - one -

Filippo woke up due to his own foolishness. The morning sun was cutting through his eyelids from the window he had forgot to shield with curtains the previous night. He squinted his eyes open and saw they were hanging limply at the sides of the window, taunting him. He let his eyes flutter closed once, reaching a blind hand to the other half of the bed. His mind was aching and thudding painfully against his very fragile skull, but the events of the previous night had not dissipated.

Memories of smoky breath, supple lips and pebbled nipples swam through his mind. Visions of eyes, rich and brown like his very own had been implanted into the most visceral part of his brain. This meant to remember those eyes was to feel the intensity of them to his very core. The eyes belonged to a gorgeous boy with a cheeky smile who had pressed him into the sheets and reduced him to a moaning fool, and he had loved every second of it.

The feeling of cool, long abandoned sheets beneath the pads of his fingers snapped him back to reality. Yes, Filippo sighed, this was what followed the nights of luxurious pleasure and beautiful boys, empty sheets and luscious memories he would kill to relive.

He slowly blinked his eyes open, willingly accepting the sun’s rays as his punishment for the hope now withering away inside of him. Why had he expected anything different? Elia had come back, that was true, but his return had been only once everyone had cleared the apartment. That isolation was something Filippo was no longer tempted by, the need to keep homosexuality inside, behind closed doors. He tried to steer clear of those who were still caught in that net, warry that they would cling too close and drag him back inside with them.

The sinking in his stomach morphed into nausea and he suddenly felt a burning desire to cover his head with a pillow until he fell asleep once more, pushing the unwanted inevitability of the morning far away. But as he attempted to close his eyes and feel the lilting call of sleep, he realized his mind was far too alert.

The bed was comfortable, certainly, and other days he would have spent another half hour lounging about, drifting in and out of sleep as he pleased. These mornings though, after sex filled nights, the bed was only a memory sink dressed in sheets that told stories and Filippo could never bear it. That morning was no exception, and if Filippo was honest with himself, the feelings were far more potent than any other morning of that ilk.

He forced himself up, feeling the telltale aches in his muscles as he stood up and stretched. The muscle pains would leave in a few days, but until then he would have to deal with the way they grumbled through his nerves with every movement.

The mirror above his dresser revealed his neck covered in purpling bruises. Fuck, Filippo thought. The aches and pains he could hide until they melted away, but hickeys were harder, hickeys were physical proof that he had been with someone. No one would care, but he would know if they were looking, he would be able to see their eyes lingering where Elia had marked him and left. He pressed his finger harshly into the darkest of them and winced at the sting that resounded through his neck.

This one was going to be harder, Filippo realized when he saw the weariness in his eyes. There was something about that boy that had captured him, and chances were, due to him being one of Marti’s closest friends, they would cross paths eventually.

He imagined seeing Elia from across the room and wondered if he would have the willpower to stay away or if would cave when the boy approached him with that mischievous grin of his. He doubted he would be able to resist the chance to have Elia naked and panting again, not when he could have all of Elia’s sumptuously tanned skin on full display.

In the mirror his eyes shifted to the bed with its pale green sheets crumpled up so artfully. Something inside him snapped in that moment, and he was across the room, stripping off the sheets before he could think about it. He moved with insistence, verging on angered determination, flinging the fabric across the room until he stood between the gathered mass of sage sheets and a naked mattress.

That’s me, he thought, staring at the bed. Filippo flung the sheets into the laundry bin. What a feeling, Filippo laughed, to empathize with a mattress. He knew it was true though, they were one and the same then, perhaps why he had stripped the bed in the first place, to not feel quite as alone.

No longer moving, Filippo’s skin pimpled with goosebumps, a good reason to dress himself, even if he was going to leave the bed forlorn. So he did, slip a pair of soft sweatpants on, and left his room for the first time that morning.

He sluggishly made his way down the corridor, preparing himself for the disorder he had abandoned last night and for his sister, if she was home, to hurriedly hand him a broom with a ‘snap to it’, wanting to clean up as soon as possible. Filippo lolled his head back, cracking a few of his vertebrae in the hopes his body would perk up afterwards. Cool air brushed across the floor and he wrinkled his toes up, wishing he had thought to slip on a pair of socks before he left his room.

For the first, but certainly not last time Filippo was caught by surprise at what awaited him in the living room. He expected his sister, he also expected an empty room, but what he didn’t expect in any of his imaginings was Elia Santini dressed entirely in Filippo’s clothes, flirting around the room to music. And yet, there he was, doing just that, and pulling off the look quite well, even handling a broom like a microphone to complete the tableau.

It was a scene that sent a jolt of shock through Filippo’s body, but it was also an extremely glorious scene to witness. It left Filippo in limbo, between letting his lips fall open and blatantly staring, or grinning widely and accepting the scene. Filippo couldn’t quite decide, his mind was too preoccupied with watching to choose what his body was going to do, so instead he spoke up.

“Buongiorno," Filippo called out as he leaned himself up against the wall next to the christmas tree.

“Fucking hell," Elia jumped at Filippo’s greeting. "Warn a guy next time."

Elia’s expression softened immediately from annoyance to amusement.

“It took you long enough to wake up," Elia set the broom aside and sidled over to where Filippo was. "I was about to come in and wake you up myself."

The naughty glint in Elia’s eyes gave away which wake up strategy he had had in mind.

Filippo swallowed. Those brown eyes he had been envisioning in his head mere minutes before were now right in front of him, looking just as beautiful as he had remembered them, perhaps even more so with the buttery warmth of the morning sun sending planes of light across the room.

“If you want to kiss me," Elia’s eyeline moved downwards to land on Filippo’s lips, then back to his eyes once more, "you’re going to have to brush your teeth, I can smell your morning breath from here."

Had Filippo imagined the flush that had spread across Elia’s cheeks when Filippo teased him the previous night? Had he made up the way Elia had paused before taking Filippo’s cock into his mouth, a sure sign of his youth? Because there. in the first words Elia had said there was a different confidence and surety that had been lacking before.

“Have you brushed your teeth?” Filippo managed to get out, despite how his chest seemed to be tightening around his heart.

“I did in fact," Elia countered. "I found a new one in your bathroom drawer."

Elia was grinning at him, and Filippo cursed his mind for being so stunted in that moment, or else he would have had a flirty remark already poised and ready on his tongue. Instead, his tongue felt like it was tied in knots inside his mouth.

“I can buy you a new one to replace it if you want," Elia continued.

Filippo shook his head, already beginning to back away down the hall. "Don’t worry about it."

Filippo happily took reprieve in the bathroom. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, with his tousled and out of sorts hair. Only a few minutes had passed since he had looked into his bedroom mirror, and yet his morning had been flipped on its head.

This doesn’t change anything, he told himself, he’s still going to leave, you’ll be able to get over him, just because he’s out in your living room right now doesn’t change what will happen after today.

Filippo wet his toothbrush. You wanted to relive the memories from last night, right? Well now’s your chance. Two times is more than you get with them normally, so go out there and pay attention, make more memories.

Filippo spat the toothpaste into the sink and wiped his mouth, letting himself enjoy the knowledge that the boy from last night was currently in his living room, looking annoyingly domestic and ready to be kissed. He let himself enjoy the fantasy, even if he knew that he would be worse off for it down the road.

“You’re back, good," Elia poked his head out of the kitchen and gestured for Filippo to join him.
Moments later Filippo found himself up against the kitchen counter with Elia’s warm hands on his waist and Elia’s soft lips against his own.

If Filippo’s head wasn’t dizzy from the previous night, it would have been then. Elia’s mouth tasted as intoxicating as before, and he had to use great restraint not to immediately deepen the kiss into something more, to slip his tongue between Elia’s parted lips and kiss him ragged. He hadn’t ever blown someone in the kitchen and had never really wanted to, but the idea was sounding better with each passing second.

Elia didn’t give him the chance to follow through on his thoughts though, for he was pulling away in no time at all. Filippo wanted to grip tight to Elia’s shirt and draw him close again, but the boy was out of his grasp and pulling open the fridge door.

“It is not a pretty sight in here my friend," Elia grimaced, reaching his hand into grab something.

My friend. The words hit Filippo square in the chest. They said, yeah we just fucked, and maybe we’ll do it again, but that’s it dude. They said, I like your cock, but I’m not going to hold your hand in public, that’s not what this is.

Elia pulled a jar of jam from the fridge, frowned, and began opening random cupboard doors. Filippo watched him with a little smile, but his mind was still focused on my friend. The words said, I like having your tongue down my throat but you’re gay bro, I’m not. An acrid taste overtook the mint of the toothpaste and coated his tongue.

“Okay, looks like we’ve got a few slices of stale bread and some jam," Elia was laughing at the pitiful breakfast makings he had procured.

“We could uh—” Filippo managed. "We could go out for breakfast?”

“No," Elia replied with certainty. "There is nothing that could get me to leave this apartment before," Elia looked over his shoulder at the oven clock, "noon at the earliest, preferably later than that though."

Elia took a step closer to him and without thinking, Filippo felt himself smile. "Not when I have an empty house and a boy who looks as delicious as you do to share it with."

Elia bit his lip and looked Filippo up and down. "By the way, you do have some nerve to come out here shirtless with that nipple piercing. With that and your lip, I’d almost think you were trying to kill me."

No, Filippo thought, but you’re trying to kill me.

Without thinking, Filippo reached forward to take hold of Elia’s waist but once again, as seemed to be the pattern of the morning, Elia was quicker than he was, and was once again across the room before Filippo could get his hands on him.

“You’re really an asshole, you know that?” Elia said to him as he slid a piece of bread out of the bag, pinching it between his fingers with a grimace. "I was planning on making a whole nice breakfast for you, but look what we’re left with."

“Tragic," Filippo bit his lip. "Also, I’m the asshole? I’m not the one who won’t let me touch them for more than a few seconds at a time," Filippo walked up behind Elia, where Filippo could take hold of Elia’s hips. And he did, slipping his hands under the fabric and stroking the skin there.

“One... two... three..." Elia counted out. "There we go, I guess I’m not an asshole anymore."

Filippo chuckled as he surveyed the cluster of bruises along Elia’s neck and smirked.

“Admiring your handiwork?” Elia smiled at him from over his shoulder as he spread some jam over one of the slices.

“Mhmm, it’s quite a sight," Filippo nipped at the darkest bruise and Elia hissed, but shifted his head to give Filippo more access.

Filippo was woozy with the knowledge of just how much he had marked up the boy the previous night, and he wasted no time licking and nipping the column of tanned skin before him.

“You didn’t stop there though," Elia murmured, sounding much more breathless than a few moments previous. "You went to town on my chest."

“Oh did I?” Filippo had kissed every inch of the available skin, but now that he knew what he had done to the boy’s chest, the bruises disappearing under the hem of his shirt seemed much more promising.

“No need to sound so smug about it," Elia retorted.

“Oh no, there is a need to sound smug," Filippo bit down a little harder on Elia’s neck, which made Elia let out a breathy moan. "Now am I going to have to keep guessing how much I marked you up or are you going to show me?”

“Ah ah ah,” Elia squirmed out of his grip, much to Filippo’s chagrin. "I’m fucking starving so we’re eating first."

“Well you did say I looked delicious."

“And you do, lord knows you do, but before I eat you, I need to eat some actual food or else you definitely won’t be getting any."

Once again, Elia made a face of absolute disgust as he put the bread and jam on two plates. “Come on," he clapped his hands together. "Hop to it and make some coffee, it’s your job since I did all the cooking."

Elia hopped up onto the counter with a jaunty grin on his face.

“All the cooking my ass," Filippo grumbled, but nonetheless set about making some espresso.

------

“Do you have dick ornaments on your Christmas tree?” Elia asked as they ate their very stale, very dry bread with jam sitting across from each other on the couch.

“Of course I do," Filippo chuckled. "I always want to spend Christmas with people I love, surrounded by the things I love," Filippo said, accompanying his words with a sip of espresso.

Elia’s face cracked into a smile and Filippo forced himself to divert his eyes. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to look, because he did, in fact when Elia smiled Filippo felt his heart stutter in his chest. But casual was something hard to maintain when you had a sort of infatuation with someone after only a night of being together. So, Filippo found solace in watching birds outside the window flock together on a power line.

Eventually he dared to look back at Elia, who was looking right back at him, and Filippo wished he hadn’t. But, now they were locked into each other once more, Filippo continued their conversation, it felt wrong not to.

“You’re spending Christmas with your family?”

“Yeah, with my parents and my sister. It’s a pretty big deal, religiously speaking, for my parents."

“Your parents are religious?”

“Mhmm, they’re not as religious as some people in this country, but still, it’s a big deal in our household."

“So Christmas mass then?”

“Yeah," Elia chuckled. "Christmas mass, prayers before dinner, nativity scene, the whole Catholic scene."

Filippo looked away again, solid in the knowledge that any chance of Elia coming out was dashed with that information. He knew the fear of religious people more than most and knew just how religion could morph an average person into one filled with bitter hatred of those different than them.

“Are you?” Elia asked."Spending Christmas with your family?”

A sore topic, Filippo gave a tight smile."Eleonora yes, not sure about our parents yet thought."

“Oh," Elia frowned."you’re not on good terms?”

“That, my friend, is a story for another time." The words felt like acid on his tongue, that phrase burning a hole in his gut, but naturally it didn’t seem to faze Elia.

Elia chuckled. "Another time then."

Promises of the future fell flat with Filippo and left him uneasy. He gave a brief, unsubstantial smile in return, but soon silence fell once again over the pair. The birds outside had flown away, all but two, and when Filippo turned his gaze to them, one flapped its wings once, twice, and soared away, leaving only one.

The silence was cut when Elia’s phone lit up with a ding.

“Text?” Filippo asked.

Elia shook his head. "Call."

The boy reached over and rejected the call, darkening the screen.

“You’re not going to answer it?” Filippo’s curiosity took over, especially with the more closed off expression that had flattened Elia’s dynamic face. The feeling was doubled when Elia failed to answer the question, choosing instead to divert the conversation in an entirely different direction.

“You’re in university, right?”

“Yeah my second year."

“What are you studying?”

“Visual arts," Elia cracked another smile at that.

“So photography and shit?”

“Yeah," Filippo chuckled. "Photography and shit."

“Could you take some pictures of me sometime then?”

Shit. Filippo swallowed."Sure. When is sometime?”

“Like, thirty minutes from now, or is that being too generous?” Elia laughed brightly. "You know the afterglow you get after sex?” Elia asked.

Cautiously, Filippo answered, "What about it?”

“That’s when I want you to take my picture."

Fuck, fuck, fuck. His mind betrayed him, supplying images of soft brown eyes drowsy with satisfaction and mellowed movements of languid limbs draped over each other.

“Okay," Filippo gave a jerky nod, to which Elia nodded back.

“Awesome," Elia grinned."And maybe I can take some photos of you too."

Elia no longer diverted their conversation but instead veered the whole interaction in a different route when he stood up abruptly. He gestured for Filippo’s plate, and Filippo gave it.

“I have a question for you," Elia looked down at him with a small, teasing smile on his lips.

“Shoot," Filippo challenged.

“Do you think I was being too generous with thirty minutes?” Elia’s eyes were glinting wildly, and he played with the hem of his shirt.

Filippo opened his mouth, then closed it again, aware that no sound had come out.

“I think I probably was, but I guess we’ll have to see," Filippo’s voiceless situation wasn’t helped when Elia began to peel his shirt off, revealing more and more of his smooth golden skin.

“I have another question," Elia added as he tossed the shirt across the room. “You might need a better look to answer it though," and with that, Elia straddled Filippo’s hips, placing his very bare, very inviting chest right in front of Filippo’s eyes.

“My question is," Elia trailed his hand down Filippo’s chest, "Do you think you marked me up enough last night?”

Elia had been right. Apparently Filippo from the previous night had decided to scatter marks wherever his lips could touch. Some were hickeys, other were straight up bite marks and Filippo’s mouth watered at the sight. He replied. "No, not nearly enough."

“That’s what I hoped you’d say."

Elia leant down and connected their lips, letting them melt into each other as they kissed rabidly, they couldn’t get enough of each other. They never got to the bedroom, whether that was because the bed had no sheets or because they were so on edge they could barely take their hands off each other didn’t matter.

When Elia did eventually leave, Filippo considered deleting every photo he had taken of the boy, just completely erase anything more of a memory that placed that boy in his apartment, naked. He didn’t though, instead he transferred them to his computer and saved them to a folder titled Elia. Filippo suspected he would have to open the folder again in no time, if only to look once more at the soft way Elia’s eyes had been after Filippo had had him bare and brought him nearly to tears.

Filippo couldn’t get Elia’s last words out of his head. Truly, he couldn’t get the entire night out of his head, or the next morning that had stretched into the afternoon. It had seemed they were both prolonging the time they had together, that moment in time where nothing had to change. It was just the two of them with the glitter of the party and their hands on each other.

Kisses had been multiplied and orgasms plentiful, thought Filippo did admit it all merged together, the details becoming lost in the fog of pleasure. But still, he couldn’t get Elia’s last words out of his head.

They were nothing profound, no large declarations or extreme admissions, but instead he had said. "I left my number in your phone, text me."

It was that and then he was out the door, leaving Filippo to sag against the wall with long breaths. Sure enough, when he unlocked his phone and scrolled through his contacts, Elia had left his number there, under the name Hot Stuff.

He couldn’t blame the boy for doing it, and Filippo was even thankful he hadn’t just up and left, but still, the mental turmoil Filippo endured due to the simple addition of Elia’s number in his phone, well, Filippo didn’t thank Elia for that.

The better part of him screamed to delete it. It said that enough was enough, to cut this off before things got even harder, to let the boy drift back into the cramped closet he resided in and be done with it. The more emotional part of him couldn’t to it. That part of him wanted the shred of hope that he had held onto to remain, and that lay in the phone number on his phone.

So he didn’t delete it, but then the problem became the words ‘text me.’

The dilemma became a constant presence at the back of his mind through everything he did. When Ele finally got home and they worked together to finally get the place in order, he thought about his phone laying on his bed and whether he should text Elia.

When he matched on Grindr with a man he had thought was sexy as hell a few days before, he didn’t bother to read the message, opting instead to scroll down Elia’s Instagram, remembering the number in his contacts.

He even typed out a text a couple times, once it was hey it’s Filo, another it was I had a great time last night, but he deleted both before moving to Grindr in an attempt to distract himself with a slideshow of handsome faces and chiselled abs. It failed miserably.

No matter how hard he tried, his mind always drifted back to the number that Elia had so slyly slipped into his contacts, and how easy and yet so difficult it would be to reach over and delete it. His memory was poor enough the number would be gone in seconds, leaving him free to message that man on Grindr and move on with his life.

He didn’t do it, he couldn’t do it, and as day after day passed, he kicked himself for letting the boy into his life and under his skin.

One morning a text from Elia came, a simple Ciao.

“Text me,” Elia had said, and yet here Elia was, texting Filippo first. Filippo silently thanked Elia for being the one to make a decision, but also cursed his persistence, as it would be the thing to eventually cause Filippo even more pain.

Caio Elia, he responded with hesitancy.

Bold of you to assume this is elia… the boy responded mere moments later.

Filippo rolled his eyes, but responded, Alright hot stuff, is the person behind the pseudonym not the same Elia Santini who I had naked on my bed a few nights ago?

Elia: you’re no fun :(

Filippo chuckled at the message and typed back, you didn’t seem to think so when I had my lips on your neck 😏

Elia didn’t take too long to write back with: well you had me in a very… hard position when you were doing that

also, you really are an asshole. I had to steal my sister’s makeup to cover up the bruises

and even that didn’t do a great job

Filippo: *pats self on back*

Elia: haha,very funny 🖕

Filippo: well… the ones you left on me aren’t going to fade any faster than yours

Elia: 😏

Elia liked to text, that much was clear from the amount of messages they continued to exchange over Christmas. Even on days that were supposed to be spent with family, presumably away from phones Filippo found the phone in his pocket buzzing again and again. They were casual, mostly flirty, and it felt refreshing, addicting. The text that changed the tenor came in the limbo between Christmas and New Year’s.

His phone lit up on the bed next to him, do you have plans for new years?

He and his friends normally went out somewhere on New Years, usually to a gay club where they could ring in the new year without fear. But as for concrete plans, he had none. But that wasn’t the point, he could easily say he did, and Elia would (probably) leave that as it was. The decision was whether he wanted to go out with Elia. Yes was the answer that came to his mind immediately, he hadn’t seen Elia since that fateful night, and with all the texts they had exchanged, Filippo wanted to see the boy more than ever.

He sent back what did you have in mind? And set to work nibbling at the skin around his lip piercing, waiting not so patiently for a reply back.

The boys and I are going to a club and I was wondering if you wanted to join?

Filippo read and reread the text to make sure he had read it correctly. Elia, the straight boy, was inviting him out, and not to a place with just the two of them. This wasn’t an extended invitation from Marti either, the I gave that away, this was Elia, not Martino, asking him out to a club with his friends, where either he or Elia would have to explain why exactly Elia had gotten Filippo’s number.

The first option was to say he would be very interested and to expect the worst when he got to the club. Expect for Elia to come up with some bullshit about needing a photographer for his family and getting Filippo’s number that way. Or Elia could act like he hadn’t even invited Filippo, and Filippo would be left to fashion some reason for him to be there out of thin air.

Worst of all though, he would have to watch Elia sidling up to girls with the same flirtatious attitude he had shown Filippo, would have to see him pressed right up against girls on the dance floor and sharing his New Year’s kiss with one of them. Going to the club meant having salt poured into the wound that was Elia Santini.

The other option was to say no. He could go out to some random gay club with the plan to get wasted and hook up with a blonde haired, blue eyed boy with no ear piercing and a quiet smile. He could let the bruises fade and be the one to faze out Elia, instead of the other way around.

But when another text popped up on his screen saying There’s going to be lots of booze, and me of course, Filippo caved like the weak man he was and typed out a response before his better half could stop him.

I never turn down a chance to party 😉

Filippo realized as soon as he sent the message that he had signed his death certificate then, with a winky face for good measure.

Sweet was the response, and then here’s the address.

Filippo fell backwards onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling bleakley. There would be time between then and now for the bruises to fade, but when he saw the boy again, there was no doubt in his mind that any sparks would be rekindled tenfold.

------

The line dragged on for ages, not that Filippo was surprised. The people around him were joyous despite the winter air, chatting vibrantly to their friends. Slowly but surely the line became shorter and shorter, until Filippo was finally let through and stepped into the club.

Bass rumbled the floor right at the entrance, slowly growing in intensity the closer to the hub he was. His heart was all over the place, and the pounding beat wasn’t helping to steady himself, especially when he stepped into the club proper and found himself engulfed the crowd.

Sweat gleaned off the skin of the scantily clad people around him, people who he was pushing past to try and find Elia, but if anyone were to ask, he was just trying to find someone he knew.

“Filippo," He heard from behind him, and when he turned, Marti was dancing right up against Nico, who was quite preoccupied with his lips on Marti’s neck.

“You just couldn’t stay away, could you," Marti joked, slipping Filippo a wink.

“What do you mean?” He asked but was drowned out by the DJ who decided then was the perfect time to make sure everyone in the club was pumped for the new year.

“I think Elia’s on the dancefloor too," he heard Marti say, though his words were muffled.

“Why would I care where Elia is?” Filippo responded, and the two boys in front of him shared a knowing look.

“Like I said," Marti continued, “I’m pretty sure he’s on the dance floor somewhere."

“Okay," Filippo nodded. Searching through the crowd from where he was was certainly a fool’s errand, there was no seeing past the wall of people right in front of him. So he made his way towards the edge where the people spaced out and stairs to a second level began.

From there it didn’t take long to find the boy in the crowd. Even among the mess of bodies clinging to each other in a drunken lust, the boy was there, and truly breathtaking.

His beauty didn’t surprise Filippo but what did was that he was alone. There were girls around him he easily could have been dancing was, but there he was in the midst of them all, dancing by himself. His body was fluid as he danced, swaying along in time to the music, with his eyes closed, as if he was taking in the beat more than the atmosphere. Just like the morning after they fucked, Filippo felt his heart clench in his chest.

Impulse overtook his planned separation from the boy, and Filippo was suddenly down the stairs and pushing through the crowd, beelining straight for the boy. When he found Elia, Elia didn’t see him at first. Eyes still closed, he rolled his head back, mouthing the lyrics. He had glitter scattered over his cheekbones and hair, reminiscent of how he had looked when they kissed after the party.

Filippo allowed himself that time to look as much as he wanted, regardless of what happened when Elia saw him, he could always keep that memory sacred.

Eventually Elia’s eyes fluttered open, and Filippo clenched his jaw to ready himself for what was coming, but all that happened was Elia’s smile grew.

“You came,” Elia leaned forward and said into his ear, lips brushing against Filippo’s skin. A shiver slid down Filippo’s spine.

“Didn’t I say I would?” Filippo responded in turn, holding Elia’s shoulder as he spoke right into Elia’s ear.

“I can still be glad you came," Elia continued, his hand brushing against Filippo’s waist.

Filippo swallowed at how close they were. He knew that the crowd was partially made of people that Elia knew, that he went to school with, who were his friends. He waited for the moment when Elia would spot one of them and push him off, waited for the explanation of their dancing as something decidedly not gay, waited for the let down.

Instead, Elia slung his arms around Filippo’s neck and continued to dance with him. Elia let his head swing back and forth in time to the music, pulling Filippo along with him. They were very close, and Filippo could feel Elia’s chest hard against his own. In other circumstances, around other people, the air around him would have crackled with tension, but here, it sagged with uncertainty and unease.

“What are you doing?” Filippo asked, his tone harsher than usual.

“I’m dancing with you," Elia laughed. "Do you not like dancing? You seem like someone who would like dancing."

“But…”

Elia’s eyes flicked down to Filippo’s mouth, Elia’s lips parting as he blatantly stared. Filippo may have been imagining things, but Elia seemed to lean forward with a tilt of his head. That was too much for him to handle, and Filippo jerked backwards. They were teases, the hands around his neck, the bright smiles only for him, the way Elia was looking at his lips. All teases of what couldn’t be, what Filippo couldn’t have. It made him feel sick.

Elia was looking at Filippo the same way Filippo felt, as if he couldn’t quite figure Filippo out.

“If you want to talk, let’s go somewhere else," Elia said and tried to take his hand, but Filippo shrugged it off, which made Elia shake his head. Regardless of handholding, Filippo followed the boy as he winded his way through the crowd to a slightly quieter area, where it seemed the rest of the boys, including Nico and Marti, where collected.

“This is where you want to talk?” Filippo nodded to where the four boys were.

“I mean we can actually hear each other here," Elia took a beer Giovanni handed him. "You were acting really weird out there dude."

Luca decided to chip in then. "I bet things were getting pretty hot out there," he said from the side with a wiggle of his eyebrows. "You guys must have been pressed really close together."

“No!" Filippo was fast to cut in. "We weren’t that close, and things weren’t really that hot," he amended after another in a series of odd looks from Elia.

“You’re probably right," Luca continued. "It probably wasn’t nearly as hot as the night of the Christmas party. At least from what Eli told us."

What? Filippo’s brain supplied. "You told them about the night of the Christmas party?”

“Yeah," Elia furrowed his eyebrows. "Why wouldn’t I have?”

“He uh, also told us about the morning too," Giovanni cut in."I mean, great you guys hooked up so much, but maybe not as explicit when you tell us about it next time, kay?”

“Wait. You really told them?” Filippo’s jaw had dropped open.

“You said that already," Elia chuckled but he nodded. "It wouldn’t do to tell them my sexuality without telling them how I knew about it for sure."

“Yes," Luca said. "He’s bisexual." The boy was grinning with — pride? Whether it was pride for Elia’s sexuality or himself for using the word ‘bisexual’ was unclear.

“So, all the people at your school, they know too?”

“Not officially, but the girls know, your sister knows," Filippo blinked at that. "Don’t worry I didn’t tell her any details, and well, anyone else who doesn’t know yet will know in time. Except for my family, they don’t know yet."

Filippo’s mind was spinning. "I need a moment," he avoided eye contact and ducked to the side.

“You need a moment?” He heard Elia ask behind him and was sure as anything that Elia was following him wherever he was headed. He wasn’t sure where he was headed to tell the truth, but the stairs to the second level appeared in front of him and he took the sign, beginning to walk upwards.

“Would you slow down a minute?” He heard Elia again behind him, and so he stopped, right at the top of stairs, where it seemed no one else was.

“Okay what is your deal?” Elia sounded ticked off. "Did you not want me to tell people we had sex? Because I didn’t think it was that big of a deal but if it was for you then I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have told anyone if I knew."

“I just needed a minute," Filippo looked straight into Elia’s eyes."I don’t care that people know we’ve had sex, really."

“Then what the fuck is it?”

Filippo wasn’t sure how to explain it. Was he going to say that he thought Elia would push him to the side the second a girl came around, that they would have to pretend they hadn’t fucked after the Christmas party and that Filippo thought Elia’s coming out was never a possibility? No. So what could he say other than,"You came out."

“I did."

“That’s fucking amazing Elia."

“I know."

Screw the consequences, Filippo was grinning, Elia was grinning, and Filippo couldn’t think of anything better to do than to kiss him, so he did. He pulled Elia close with the pounding music throbbing below them and kissed the living hell out of the boy. They dipped against each other and let their tongues melt together. Oxygen was the reason they parted, and they both drew in deep,

“Wow," Elia swiped his thumb across his bottom lip."I forgot how good of a kisser you were."

“Yeah," Filippo decided to agree with him, even though the taste of Elia’s lips hadn’t left him once."I forgot too."

Elia took his hand again, and this time Filippo didn’t pull away. "Let’s hope you didn’t have another kiss planned for midnight, because if I have any say in it, you’ll be kissing these puppies," Elia bit his lip dramatically and Filippo, well Filippo couldn’t not laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

------

“Five!” the crowd around them chanted. Elia and Filippo shared smiles that seemed like one private thing in a situation where they were one of hundreds of people, a very non-private space. But Elia’s smile seemed to shine, and Filippo’s heart began skipping beats.

“Four!” Elia began to chant along, his hand seamlessly finding the small of Filippo’s back, pressing the flat of his palm against it to usher Filippo closer still.

“Three!” Filippo joined in then as the pulsing lights lit up Elia’s face, with his animated smile radiating energy and eyes that were dark and oh so inviting. Pink and blue lights melted together into purple rays that reflected themselves in the darkness of Elia’s eyes, and highlighted the smattering of glitter on his cheekbones and in his hair.

“Two!” A shiver ran blissfully down Filippo’s spine as he brushed his thumb along Elia’s cheek as he cupped the boy’s cheek with his palm, and felt Elia lean into his touch, just a little. Surges of hope shook his body in waves, and later he would be able to admit to himself just how scared the hope made him. In that moment however, Filippo took Elia’s lead and leaned into it, letting the hope bring warmth to his heart and soul.

“One!” There was no pulling then, not from either of them as they came together in an exhilarating kiss. Both of Elia’s hands were on him, and both of his on Elia, but there was no need to press together anymore, they were as close as possible. Lips touching lips, tongues a slick glide of heat and hands pressing flush against exposed skin with thrums of pleasure resonating through it all.

Elia didn’t know, there was no way for him to, but as they kissed and clung to each other, Elia began to strip Filippo down to his barest, most vulnerable state. With the way Elia’s hand curled in Filippo’s blush hair and the deliciously devious slide of Elia’s tongue in Filippo’s mouth, he began to apply himself to Filippo’s heart. Even the incremental way Elia’s grip on Filippo’s shirt tightened peeled Filippo apart, but by the time they broke apart Filippo could feel the permanence of Elia thrum through him. There was no forgetting this boy, even if Filippo desperately wanted to.

Canons of confetti rained down upon them, and Elia once again ducked his head forward to whisper shivers into Filippo’s ear, “Do you want to get out of here?” he sounded throaty and wrecked, and Filippo wanted nothing more than to get him alone.

“Yes."

“Your place?”

“My place."

After that night, it barely seemed like Elia left. He did of course, they both did, but the way Elia dispersed himself around the apartment created an atmosphere where everything Filippo saw or did was saturated with something entirely Elia. His drawers became cluttered with sweaters he had ‘borrowed’ from the boy and was missing many more he had ‘loaned’ him.

The toothbrush Elia had used had been returned and given a spot alongside his and Ele’s where Filippo saw it morning and night and was reminded of the boy. Not that Elia gave him much time to forget, they texted constantly, talked on the phone almost as often.

Never in Filippo’s life had he found listening to someone talk for hours on end to be quite as hypnotic as he did with Elia, and he often found himself staying up past the turn of the day with the boy on speakerphone next to him, prattling on about something stupid Luca had done, or the awful math exam he had on the horizon.

“Fuck I’m sorry I’m talking too much," Elia laughed out one night when the hour was about to pass one.

“No, you’re not," Filippo shook his head even though Elia couldn’t see it.

“Yeah I am, you’re just humoring me and you know it," Filippo bit his lip.

“Fine," Filippo conceded. "I stopped listening to you after the first two minutes, what were you saying for the past two hours again?”

“Oh fuck you," Filippo could hear the smile in his voice.

“If you were here you could," Filippo teased a groan out of the boy on the other end of the line.

“Seriously Filo, fuck you, I have school tomorrow and I can’t be up till three in the morning jerking off."

“I think you’re overestimating how long you can last, remember the last time you said we could last thirty minutes, do you need a replay of how that went down?”

“No asshole, I don’t," Elia grumbled.

“I do have an asshole," Filippo started.

“Shut up Filo, or else I’ll—”

“You’ll what Eli? Come all over your sheets?”

“If you let me finish, I was going to say I’ll hang up."

“You probably should, since you do have school tomorrow and so do I," Filippo teased.

“I probably should," Elia sounded saddened and Filippo tried to tone down his own urge to smile, it didn’t work.

“We’ll talk tomorrow," Filippo reminded the boy. "Unless you can come over after school?”

“Afraid not, I have plans with the boys."

Filippo thought of saying he could join them in whatever they were doing, which probably consisted of Fifa and weed, knowing them. He even opened his mouth to say it, but thought better and closed his lips.

“Too bad darling, my asshole will have to wait."

“I hate you so much," Elia laughed. "I’ll talk to you tomorrow."

Silence settled over the line and Filippo’s smile settled too, moments like that were not unusual, this space between the known and the unknown.

“Yeah, talk to you then."

------

Filippo never wore Elia’s sweaters out of the apartment, saving them for the times when he stayed home during the weekend and could wrap himself in the red sweater that smelled of the two of them together. Elia didn’t often catch him wearing them, but when he did, his cheeks always pinked up a little, and he kissed Filippo a little harder, with a little more insistence.
Another sign of Elia’s newfound presence in the Sava residence was the fridge, always stocked with enough fresh ingredients for the infamous Santini breakfasts he made for the two of them when he slept over.

It was just enough, sprinkled around, that Filippo never went long without being reminded of the boy. But it wasn’t much, Elia was still in high school, and spent most nights at home, with his parents who were still unaware of his sexuality.

“Where do they think you are tonight?” Filippo would ask after they peeled their sweaty bodies apart.

“Martino’s."

Those moments were windows into the boy’s soul, when Filippo could see so vibrantly the desire to tell his parents, and the realization that it wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

“I told my sister though," Elia added another night.

“You did?” Filippo rolled onto his side, watching the boy who had his nose in a book for school.

“I did."

“How did it go?”

Elia placed the book on his chest and turned to Filippo with a small smile. "It was great, we sort of have this pact between us, that we can get things off our chest whenever we want, because we can say so little of it to our parents."

What a bittersweet victory it was, and he told Elia just as much, who gave him a curt nod and returned to his book. Filippo leant down and snuck a gentle kiss from him, which returned Elia’s face to part of its normal cheer.

I’m sorry, Filippo thought, wondering if any of it was getting through to the boy, that you can’t tell them anything, that you have to keep everything a secret.

Moments of sentiment were short and sweet, but they sunk in deeply. Most of the time was taken with banter, or kisses with tongues that delved deep into each others mouths, or Filippo pinning Elia to a wall and having his way with the boy, or the other way around. It was a push and pull that Filippo basked in and that they rarely strayed from. Hard and fast was a necessary part of them, that’s what made the moments of soft caresses even more precious.

One night though, all that push and pull was tossed out the window, and Filippo felt his side of the relationship shift dramatically, for the worst. The throws of sleep were nearly upon him when something burst his bubble and jolted him awake. He listened to the silence until again, the something appeared. It turned out to be a sound, harsh and sharp to his ears and he winced. Apparently, someone had decided two in the morning was the perfect time to come around raucously demanding someone’s arrival at the door.

He had made peace with being the one to go to the door when he heard Eleonora’s pattering footsteps on the floor. He let himself fall backward, reveling in the warmth he could still enjoy. That was until he heard Ele’s voice dragging him out of his content state.

“Filo come here!”

“Why?” he protested."give me one good reason to come to the door." He was certain that there was almost nothing that would justify the trek, but Ele proved him wrong with three simple words.

“Because it’s Elia."

That snapped him too, no longer was there a tired cell in his body as he flung back the covers and rushed down the hall. He wasn’t sure what to expect, what exactly could prompt the boy to come to his door on a Thursday night, a school night. They had found their rhythm, and this wasn’t it.

“Elia?”

The boy was standing in his foyer in a jacket that was almost certainly too thin to protect him from the frigid January air, with the biggest, giddiest, most Elia smile on his face. However, with each passing second the smile passed further beyond the point of being just Elia into being Elia on something, something that was taking him out of his normal and into the beyond. Not high, he’d seen Elia high, this wasn’t it, so it was alcohol.

“Oh my god," Elia sagged forward, his unsteady hand bracing against the doorway. "I mean I knew you were fucking hot, but you’re like, gorgeous."

His smile was continuously engulfing his face as he stumbled forward on shaky legs that seemed intent on just barely keeping him standing.

The stench of alcohol grew thick as Elia got closer and pulled Filippo into a clumsy hug where his eagerness nearly bowled Filippo over and his hands dug too harshly into Filippo’s back..

“You smell good," Elia slurred, nuzzling into Filippo’s shoulder.

“Elia," Filippo attempted to pry the boy off him but for how limp Elia seemed to be, his grip on Filippo was ironclad.

“No like, really good," Elia clung even tighter to Filippo and then abruptly pulled away, facing Eleonora, who kept looking between the boy and Filippo with worry painted on her features.

“Have you smelled him? Cause he smells perfect, you should smell him," Elia rolled on, laughing disjointedly between phrases. "No that would be weird, you’re his sister," Elia shook his head. "You’d better leave the smelling to me," Elia patted the concerned looking Eleonora on the shoulder. "And other things as well," he wiggled his eyebrows at that.

“Elia," Filippo sighed, "How much have you had to drink?”

“Not much," Elia giggled and stumbled forward. "Jus- a few shots."

“Right," Filippo pursed his lips and tugged Elia forward. "Let’s get your jacket off."

“You can take all my clothes off if you want,” Elia began kissing along Filippo’s neck as Filippo peeled his jacket from him shoulders.

Filippo made sure to keep his lips pressed together, not to let the boy’s flirtations to get to him, “I want to get you warm Elia."

“I know some good ways to do that," Elia pulled himself up and mashed their lips together. In theory it may have been classified a kiss, but in practice it was truly just a mashing of lips together in unorganized haste. The taste of alcohol swam through Filippo’s mouth as Elia tried to probe his way through Filippo’s unresponsive lips.

As soon as Filippo could get his hands on Elia’s shoulders he was pushing the boy back.

“No. You’re drunk Elia."

Elia whined at that. "But you’re so amazing, I can’t stop thinking about you. And your lips. And your cock."

“Okay," Filippo nodded, pursing his lips. Did the words affect him? Yes. Alcohol doesn’t make one create lies, instead pulling back the curtain to reveal true thoughts and feelings. They might be exaggerated in the intoxicated state, but the fact Elia had drunkenly found his way to Filippo’s apartment was not lost on Filippo.

With Elia’s arms draped over Filippo and Eleonora’s shoulders, they heaved him up the stairs. The boy was barely holding any of his own weight, focussing instead on detailing every part of Filippo he enjoyed, from the sweet and innocent to the highly explicit.

“Should we call his parents?” Ele asked, to which Elia shook his head violently.

“Don’t call my parents," the boy turned his head to Filippo. "Please Filo, don’t call them."

All it took were those words from Elia and Filippo was shaking his head too."he can stay here tonight, he can talk to his parents tomorrow."

“This is why I like you so much," Elia babbled now that his parents were out of the picture."that and your cock,” Elia continued on with his praise of Filippo. It was because of his spilling of insights that felt entirely indulgent and brought a flush to Filippo’s cheeks that Filippo nodded for Ele to leave when they had settled at the top of the stairs.

She looked warry to leave them alone, but still she took her leave, closing her bedroom door behind.

The two of them were alone then, Elia swaying back and forth with heavy eyelids and Filippo steadying the boy with his hands on Elia’s shoulders.

“Your lips," Elia murmured. "They’re just so pink and your piercing makes me want to kiss you all the time. It’s not fair Filo, because I can’t kiss you all the time."

Filippo nodded, turning Elia in the direction of the bedroom, but Elia wouldn’t move forward,"I just want to kiss you all the time, can I do that Filo?”

“Yes," Filippo decided to play along. "As soon as we get you in some pyjamas and into bed, then you can kiss me as much as you want."

Elia smile swelled, and so did Filippo’s heart, "Kay."

They slowly made their way down the hall, Elia’s ungainly feet nearly bringing him crumbling to the floor on multiple occasions. But Filippo curled his hands in the boy’s shirt, making sure not to let him, because if he did, Filippo was certain he would end up falling too, in more ways than one.

“Filippo," Elia hummed when they reached the door.

“Yes?”

“I think I’m going to puke."

Their ambling movements turned rushed as they stumbled through the bathroom door, arriving at the toilet just in time for Elia to collapse in front of it. Filippo joined him, keeping a steadying hand on his shoulder as he heaved. The space was cramped, and Filippo was barely squeezed in between the wall and the toilet, but he didn’t once think about moving.

“Get it all out," Filippo said, as Elia heaved once more, clutching to the toilet seat with white knuckles. The boy spit into the bowl with disgust, grimacing.

“Feel better?” Filippo asked, squeezing his shoulder a little.

“A little," Elia slurred in response, falling off his knees onto the tile floor. Elia looked tired and beaten down, his eyes red and puffy, as if he had been crying. He truly looked bruised now that he had quit his ramblings and let a moment of silence fall. His chest rose and fall in tandem with Filippo’s as they both fell from the hectic nature of the previous few minutes.

“You’re still really beautiful, and I still want to kiss you," Elia grinned with his head leaning against the wall. Filippo wanted to ask what had prompted this drunken spree, whether it had just been a night out that had gone too far or whether Elia had drunk himself into a stupor on purpose. He wondered if it was his right to ask, or whether he wanted to know the answer.

Instead of asking he jostled Elia’s foot with his own. "Remember what I told you about when you could kiss me?”

Elia laughed, "Yeah, I doubt you want to kiss me now though."

“Good thing you have a toothbrush by the sink and a hot shower behind you."

“Yeah," Elia’s eyes met Filippo’s in a slow, unblinking gaze, "Good thing I do."

Filippo pulled himself up, offering a hand to Elia, who blinked up at him and took hold of it. Elia’s body was still extraordinarily limp as Filippo dragged him to standing, and Filippo wanted nothing more than to hold him close and keep him up with his own body. That’s all he wanted, Filippo realized, despite his stench and the fact he had just emptied his stomach into the toilet, all Filippo wanted was to be able to hold him close.

Filippo flushed the toilet and let the boy’s hand go, reaching over and turning on the shower.

“Come here Elia," Filippo beckoned him closer, peeling Elia’s sweat stained shirt up and over his head. His pants were next, joining his shirt in a pile near the door. The boy’s head slumped forward as Filippo steered him toward the shower, but Elia took pause.

“Come in with me," the boy pleaded, and it truly was all Filippo wanted to do, he could already feel the water falling over their heads. A right minded Filippo would have shook his head, but when Filippo took his hands off the boy he swayed, and Filippo wasn’t sure if he’d be able to hold himself up, or stop himself from slipping.

“Okay," Filippo agreed, and shut his mind off. He was focussed on the exact things he was doing, not the way he felt, not the sensations blooming on his skin. He focused on getting Elia’s hair lathered up, on washing his skin with Filippo’s body wash and most importantly on keeping the boy standing.

He patted the boy dry with a towel once they had stepped out, helped Elia tie that same towel around his waist and get across the floor to the sink all in one piece with the water making Elia even more likely to fall.

“Okay, brush your teeth. I’ll be waiting for you," Filippo picked up the pile of clothing and walked out the door.

The pull to look back was like truth serum searing through his veins. When Elia could no longer see him, he allowed himself a moment to listen, waiting for the clink of the brush being taken out of the glass and the rushing of water flowing over it. When he heard them his breathing relaxed, his entire being relaxed, and finally he could leave the boy behind.

------

“Here," Filippo called to him and tossed over a set of pyjamas.

The only light emanating through the room was a small lamp on the side table, which imbued the boy’s skin with soft warmth. Elia had spent many nights in Filippo’s bed, shown Filippo his bare body even more often, and yet this time with the inelegant way he was acting, Filippo felt invasive watching him. It seemed Elia was on display, the way Filippo was laying on the bed and Elia at the foot, letting the towel drop to the floor with Filippo’s eyes on him.

It seemed private, the way Elia missed certain movements and would have to start over, like a small child. Filippo wasn’t noticing his dark nipples or how his toned stomach tensed when he moved, instead he was watching the way Elia’s dark hair fell across his forehead limply and the way Elia’s hands were clumsy, inhibiting him from moving in his usual carefree way. But Elia certainly wasn’t treating it as different, keeping eye contact with Filippo the entire time, and it eased Filippo’s discomfort.

Eventually Elia had changed and crawled across the bed to join Filippo. Heart clenching in his chest, Filippo lifted the blankets, letting out some of the heat, but was rewarded by Elia slipping underneath.

They weren’t touching, which was odd for them. Usually they fucked and fell into bed afterwards, tangling together in a mess of limbs until the next morning, when inevitably one of them would wake before the other and separate their bodies. But they hadn’t fucked, they hadn’t even kissed, not unless you counted the way Elia had mashed their lips together in the foyer, which Filippo didn’t.

This was undiscovered territory, especially with Elia still a drunken heap beside him. Filippo moved to turn off the light but paused when Elia asked, "Can I come closer?”

There it was. That was the question hanging in the air. Elia did have a way of saying just what was running through Filippo’s mind.

“Yes," and there was the answer, floating above them like a realization.

“Good, because I still haven’t kissed you," Elia slurred as he shuffled closer and closer, until he was tucked right up against Filippo, legs intertwined with Filippo’s own, chest glued to Filippo’s side.

His touch was still slightly cool, but Filippo found no problem in having Elia’s hands everywhere, even if they did sap some of the heat from his skin.

“Just one kiss," Filippo said, feeling like one was okay, one wasn’t taking advantage.

Elia’s lips were minty, passing over the same sort of coolness his fingers were, but surprisingly, as a complete opposite to the kiss in the foyer, which had been all impulse and no control, Elia’s lips touched Filippo’s gently, not even trying to push the kiss farther, just touching Filippo’s softly.

“That was nice," Elia smiled. "Can I do it again?”

“No," Filippo insisted, pushing Elia’s curls of chestnut hair from his forehead. "No more kissing tonight."

Elia frowned, but closed his eyes at Filippo’s palm against his skin. Filippo pressed a kiss to the boy’s forehead, even more chaste than the other Elia had headed. Elia hummed through the kiss, tucking himself even closer to Filippo by laying his head on Filippo’s chest. His head was close enough Filippo could smell that the boy had used his shampoo, a piece of knowledge that did nothing but strengthen the feelings welling up within him.

It was then, with the light safely turned off and darkness settling upon them that Filippo finally saw his fears highlighted in a way he never had before.

Fucking was one thing, when they fucked and fell into each other afterwards, that was all alright. It was physical and satisfying, he never felt deprived of anything, and didn’t get the sense Elia felt deprived. But this, the way Elia was so blatantly pressed against him after choosing to flock to Filippo when he was inebriated, when the softer touches were not accompanied by something hard and fast, that was something else entirely. Filippo felt tears tinting the edges of his vision and he stared upwards at the dark abyss of ceiling, silently willing them away.

His addiction to the boy had been thriving for some time, but affection had never been the driving force, the force had been everything physical about the boy, every word that came out of his lips, the luscious taste of his lips. That night Filippo realized the thing that was going to be the most difficult to forget was going to be moments like that, when soft affection was the sole purpose of touching – when there was no promise of harder or faster, just gentle hands holding up the other in need. All that tenderness was tied to entirely to the boy, and it couldn’t be replaced at the drop of a hat once Elia walked away. Filippo saw tears tinting the edges of his vision and he stared up at the dark abyss of ceiling, silently willing them to disappear.

Filippo shifted slightly, and Elia grumbled, moving so his hands were clutching Filippo’s shirt and the weight of his head was pressing Filippo into the mattress. Elia was steadying him as Filippo had steadied Elia earlier, but Filippo found himself wondering if Elia was eventually going to be the one to drag him down in the end.

“Don’t move," the boy mumbled.

“Okay," Filippo agreed, and Elia seemed to decide it was safe to quit clinging to Filippo’s shirt and slipped a hand under it, placing his palm right over Filippo’s heart.

Shit, if that didn’t do something to Filippo. His heart didn’t speed up but it started reaching upwards with each and every beat, trying to reach beyond the ribcage, beyond the skin, beyond any obstacles to touch Elia. His heart that was already made so much of Elia wanted even more, but no matter how hard it tried, it could never quite get there. Soon Elia’s hand fell lax with sleep and Filippo’s heart realized that trying to reach him was futile.

Filippo held Elia a little tighter and allowed himself to fall, fall deep down where thoughts didn’t exist. He thought it would be safe down there, but desperately wished he hadn’t slept when the next morning he woke with memories of dreams that went farther into his wishes than he would ever dare to.

After the night Elia showed up on his doorstep drunk off his ass, Filippo forced his mind to take the driver’s seat around the boy. He felt well and truly panicked at the thought of what might end up happening if his heart continued to steer their course. The biggest fear monger of them all was the fact he was finding a series of three little words tantalizingly tickling his tongue more and more often since he held the boy in his bed that one night.

Taking himself physically away from the boy was a complete impossibility; he couldn’t bear to deprive himself of the grins and the intoxicating energy Elia had brought into his life, even the idea made him sick. So, Filippo did the only other possible thing and began separating himself emotionally from Elia with the hopes the boy would take the hint and execute the complete withdrawal as soon as possible instead of drawing it out

Filippo began when they fell into bed one night after a hard fuck. Filippo had pinned Elia’s hand above the boy’s head on the bed and fucked him his with hard, unrelenting thrusts. Elia always melted after Filippo had his way with him, and Filippo knew full well just how crimson and dazed the boy looked without even turning his head. Filippo bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from doing just that, even though the mental image of Elia’s lazy eyes and flushed cheeks was almost enough to cave.

Elia began to shuffle closer, just as he always did. They were almost always drawn to each other despite the situation, but after they had fucked it was always magnetic, Elia would slide up next to Filippo and tuck himself close. So, it was no surprise when he started towards Filippo that night, but rolled onto his side away from Elia before the boy could tuck up beside him, evading any physical affection.

“I just want to go to sleep tonight."

“Oh," he heard Elia’s disappointed voice from behind him and nearly cracked right then and there. One word from Elia’s mouth that sounded the slightest bit forlorn and Filippo was desperate to say he was only kidding and collect the boy in his arms.

“Goodnight," was all that Filippo could manage.

“Yeah, goodnight," Elia responded, voice still sounding incredibly dulled.

Filippo couldn’t even think of falling asleep until he heard Elia’s breath slow, and which point he fell into a fitful sleep full of colliding dreams of brown eyes and pierced ears.

------

Mornings became cautious in every respect. Without fail, Elia looked incredibly disheveled and domestic when he woke up, which Filippo adored and despised in near equal measure. His hair would be a delightful mess, especially when he was in need of a haircut and he was always extremely affectionate, that was unless Filippo had done something to piss him off like having the audacity to open the curtains before Elia could prepare himself. When Filippo had annoyed him, he was endearingly grumpy, never really saying anything of malice but instead full of eye rolls and sarcastic commentary.

So, Filippo became the constant first to wake up, and when he did it was a quick minute before he forced himself to leave the bed as gently as possible lest he disturb the boy. He tried not to spare the still sleeping Elia a single glance since even seeing the boy under Filippo’s sheets drooling on Filippo’s pillow made Filippo’s heart weep.

The first few times Elia didn’t seem to notice, simply joining Filippo in the living room or kitchen with a kiss. However, after a while, the boy obviously took note of the trend and Filippo found himself fabricating excuse after excuse to explain his early exit from the bed, but the guilt was almost as bad as leaving him the first place.

The next step was an obvious one, and one that completely swallowed Filippo up every time he chose it. Instead of slipping out of bed the morning after, Filippo began coming up with reasons for Elia not to sleep over at all, essentially throwing him out without the decency to come right out and say it.

“I have an exam tomorrow so I need to get a full night’s sleep," he said the first time, which was a complete lie.

“I have to get up early and I wouldn’t want to wake you up, so you probably shouldn’t sleep over," was a more common excuse.

The problem was, Filippo often slipped up, much more often than he wanted to admit. Numerous times he caught the boys eyes and caved, reaching out and pulling the boy back into bed where it felt like he belonged. Those times he would draw the boy close and hold him tightly, wishing that the circumstances were different and he would never have to let him go, but simultaneously dealing with the sinking feeling in his stomach.

Regardless of how many times Filippo messed up, Elia got the memo. He began to leave the bed before Filippo had a moment to collect himself. It sent shots through his heart to see the boy abandon the bed so quickly, especially when Elia would turn to him before leaving with a stone cold face and curtly say, "Thanks for the fuck Filippo."

Those times Filippo holed himself away in his room, not even approaching the idea of leaving his bed until hours had passed. He would move to Elia’s side of the bed where the mattress was still warm and the pillow still smelled of the boy’s shampoo and wrap himself in the blankets to give himself some semblance of comfort. More often than not when he pulled away from the sheets, he found tear stains on the pillow and a hollow feeling in his chest.

But he knew it was for the best, and he felt a miniscule sense of relief that Elia was on the same page as he was. One day, with a heavy heart, he even opened Grindr up on his phone for the first time since he had found Elia in his living room. Pictures of bearded jawlines and strong chests swarmed his screen. Normally, he would delight in them, but he could barely acknowledge the men as attractive, not when he couldn’t get the feeling of Elia’s warm skin from his sense memory.

So he swiped mindlessly and the matches began to pile up, just as the messages did, but Filippo couldn’t stomach replying, instead tucking his phone away for the time when he needed a rebound and some guy to forget himself with. Then it wouldn’t matter, all he would need would be a hard cock and someone who didn’t make him think of Elia.

The more time passed, the more Filippo felt confident his efforts were succeeding. He knew Elia was catching onto everything he was doing and Filippo waited patiently in the lingering silences between them for the moment where Elia would cut it off for good.

However, what Filippo foolishly hadn’t taken into account was that Elia was a stubborn asshole. Elia was obstinate and wouldn’t just go down without a confrontation. Perhaps Filippo had forgotten about that side of Elia, or perhaps, the more likely of the two, Filippo had wanted to be confronted, he just hadn’t known it.

Either way, it was only a few days after he opened Grindr that Elia decided to speak his mind.

Milky light washed over them, sharing the couch in opposing poses like they so often did. He couldn’t think of a better way to spend an afternoon, the two of them in a quiet companionship, booking in their hands, letting the afternoon lazily trickle on. It was for that reason, that he enjoyed it so, that he was tucked up on his end of the couch, almost doubling in on himself with how much he had shrunk inwards.

“What’s wrong?” Elia’s irritated voice sounded out and Filippo could viscerally feel the heat of the boy’s brown eyes on him.

“What do you mean?” He feigned innocence.

“You keep doing this Filo." Filippo swallowed thickly, feeling the tension in the air start to rise, could taste the parting of ways in its acidic potency on his tongue, "You’re completely shutting down, shutting me out."

He kept his eyes glued to the words before him, the only thing keeping him together, but Elia was having none of it.

“Put the fucking book down Filo, you know you do this. We’ll fuck, we’ll hang out, but you’re so distant, so not you. Then you’re completely normally, letting me sleep over night one weekend and holding me close again and I’m left not knowing what to think Filo."

“I don’t do that," Filippo shook his head and oh, what a blatant lie.

“Bullshit. You do so, and you know it. I barely sleep over anymore, you won’t even look me in the eyes after we have sex. Fuck Filo—” Elia’s voice broke off.

“I even saw Grindr messages on your phone earlier today. So what’s up uh? Do you not want to see me anymore, is that it? You think I came out for you and so you don’t want to ditch me even though you’re not interested anymore?”

No, no, no.

“No, that’s not it."

“So you admit there is something going on."

He scanned the room for something to distract, so he wouldn’t have to look at Elia where he would see the suffering in the boy’s eyes and inevitably crack open, giving him exactly what he wanted, a fight to end all others.

“Yes," Filippo’s voice trembled, threatening to break with the single word.

Filippo could hear Elia suck in a deep breath, "Okay." Filippo was relieved to hear the shakiness of Elia’s voice mirror his own.

“So what is it Filo?” Elia pulled the book from his grasp and forced their eyes together with a palm to his cheek, "Is there someone else?”

Elia’s eyes swelled with nervousness, and Filippo swallowed, pulling away from Elia’s touch to stand up,"No, there’s no one else Eli."

He couldn’t stand the thought that Elia assumed he was with someone else. It was a revolting and disgusting idea that he would want anyone more than he did Elia.

“Then what?” Elia pulled himself off the couch to stand opposing Filippo with firmly crossed arms, "Why won’t you talk to me?”

Because then it’ll be the end for sure.

“You don’t want to know," Filippo started towards the kitchen.

“Yes I do Filo," Elia blocked his way, eyes sternly looking at Filippo with a stern look that told stories.

“You want to know?”

“Yes," Elia pleaded."tell me what is going on with you so we can…”

“So we can do what Elia?” Filippo said pitifully. "What are you or I going to do?”

“I don’t know!" Elia exclaimed, "But that’s because you haven’t fucking told me what’s so damn wrong!”

This is it Filippo, take your last look, because this is the end.

“Come on Filippo," Elia goaded him, "Tell me. I dare you."

Filippo let all tension go for a moment, a moment he spended trying to memorize Elia’s features. He traced the boy’s eyelashes with his eyes, then his lips, then the contours of his nose and jawline. He took a mental picture of beautiful body, trying to seer it onto his brain so he would never forget the imperfect details of him.

He could feel what Elia’s cheek felt like under his touch, could taste Elia’s lips, everything about Elia was so innately tied to one of his senses, the overload was almost too much.

But he couldn’t stop until he felt he had looked long enough, and when he had he stepped backward, clenching his fists as the tension roared back into his body like a beast.

“Because—” he tried once to no avail and stepped back again. He looked deeply at the boy, dragging his eyes up and down his figure, his lean but strong form, the piercing that marked his ear, his eyes that were looking at Filippo with insistence.

“Because you were supposed to the leave the first night we fucked."

Elia’s angered expression morphed into one of confusion. "What?”

“You went to take a shower, and when you came back, I was asleep right?” Elia nodded, and
Filippo began again, "That’s when you were supposed to fucking leave."

“W-why was I supposed to leave?” Elia’s arms dropped to his sides.

“Because that’s how it always goes Elia, don’t you get that? You were always supposed to leave, to let me wake up feeling battered and bruised with the fresh memories of you in my head, but I would heal from all that, I always do."

Filippo paused, shaking out some of his pent-up anger out through his hands, "But you didn’t, did you?”

Elia shook his head, opening his mouth as if to speak, but Filippo didn’t let him.

“No. You stayed," Filippo laughed bitterly. "You made breakfast, you straddled me with your hips, you fucking left me your number to text you."

Elia moved as if to come closer, but Filippo only stepped back,"No. You fucking asshole, you stayed and you—” he took a deep breath, begging the stinging hints of tears pricking his eyes to disappear, "You stayed."

In Filippo’s mind, that said it all. Elia staying was the problem, because Elia just being himself was cause enough for Filippo to fall for him. He didn’t have to do anything beyond exist in Filippo’s life and because he was so exquisite, Filippo couldn’t help but become addicted.

“I stayed," Elia questioned, "That’s the problem."

“Yes," Filippo continued, "Are you not hearing me? You were supposed to leave. You were supposed to be bruise on my side that would ache for a little while but would fade. That’s what always happens, that’s what was supposed to fucking happen Elia, why can’t you get that?”

“Because there’s nothing I’m supposed to do," Elia was pissed off, his entire body and tone screaming it. "I’m a breathing, thinking human being. I do what I want to do."

“For fucks sake Elia, listen to me," Filippo nearly growled out. "You weren’t supposed to stay, because—” he choked off into silence.

“Spit it out Filippo. If you’re going to tell me how to live my life, at least tell me why."
“Because," Filippo cut in fiercely. "Your leaving would have hurt a little, been a little painful, but all that would’ve disappeared. I would’ve been able to move on and meet another guy and have sex with them without a mark on me, but every second you are around me Elia, every moment we spend together, you take another piece of my heart!”

Elia blinked at him, and they fell into a pocket of silence that itched Filippo to his core, and when he spoke again, his voice sounded scratched and rough. "Elia, what am I going to do when you leave me now? You have so much of me that you’ll take with you and you won’t even realize. But what am I going to be left with Eli? You’re going to be gone and so will most of my heart, so what am I going to do Eli? Please tell me, because I think I don’t think I’ll ever be able to heal from you when you inevitably leave me," Filippo took a few heaving breaths. "That. That right there is why you were supposed to leave."

“You’re such a pussy," Elia laughed harshly.

“Me?” Filippo was taken aback. "I’m not the one who was supposed to-”

“Yeah Filo, I know I was supposed to leave that night. If you haven’t noticed, you’ve repeated that phrase a lot in the past few minutes."

Elia paused and looked to the floor, holding up his finger to keep Filippo silent. Filippo could do nothing but roll his eyes at the boy, but he didn’t dare speak.

“Do you know what I thought about you when we first met at the Christmas party?” Elia finally spoke up but kept his eyes glued to the floor.

Yes, you saw a hot gay guy to fuck.

“No," Filippo chose to say instead.

“I thought, fucking hell, this boy can read me like a book," Elia looked up to connect their eyes and Filippo was surprised to see the tenderness in Elia’s instead of hate or pain. "You kept acting in ways that made me think you could see right through me. I was grateful for it, because I was too scared to follow through with what I wanted. If you hadn’t taken me outside, I would have left that night and gone back to my pining for other boys. If you hadn’t kissed me like you did, I wouldn’t have come out then, I would have stayed hidden away in the closet. So, I thanked you for it, and was awed by how you knew me so instantly."

Filippo noticed a few tears in Elia’s eyes and swallowed thickly.

“But now Filo, I realize you weren’t reading me, you were reading from the book that you had from all these other boys, assuming I was just like them. Yes, I was closeted, yes, you needed to make the first move, yes, I was scared, but that didn’t give you the right to assume who I was."

Elia ran a hand through his hair. "For someone who is so accepting of people for who they are, you do flock to make assumptions of character very quickly."

Glossy eyes met glossy eyes, holding each other."Do you see how unfair that is Filo? I’ve been here and present this entire time, trying to get to know you, to truly build something and you’ve just been here keeping everything inside, waiting for me to desert you. Do you truly think I’m that cruel of a person?”

“Elia—”

“I came out!” Elia hurled at him. "I came out and kissed you in front of everyone. I slept over here time and time again, had breakfast with your sister, spent an entire day with you dismantling every single one of the Christmas decorations, which you went overboard on by the way. Still I spent a long day taking them down and putting them away with you."

Elia began to pace back and forth. "Did you ever think about what you might be doing to me Filippo?”

No. He shook his head.

“Of course you didn’t," Elia barked out a sharp laugh, and in one smooth movement, as if he had practiced it, pulled his shirt over his head.

“Do you see these?” Elia marched forward, pointing to the many marks, some bites, some bruises, that littered his chest. They were all different, some purple and fresh, others nearly gone.

“You leave me covered in bruises on a daily basis, there is never a moment that I take my shirt off and your mark isn’t on me."

Elia was a hair’s breadth away from Filippo, but he was firm in the way he stood and spoke, this wasn’t a tender moment, Elia was trying to make a point.

“I can’t show you my heart, but I can show you my body, and how you leave me completely wrecked for anyone else any time I come close to you. I don’t think I have to prove myself to you, prove that I’m here. I think that my actions speak louder than words ever could, but you seem to be determined to be obtuse so perhaps I shouldn’t bother."

With a shake of his head, the boy turned and walked away, across the room where he picked his shirt off the floor with quick movements.

Before Filippo could stop the words from coming out of his mouth, in a panicked state he said."You haven’t come out to your parents though, so does it all really matter if you can’t stomach telling your family?”

The moment the words left his lips, Filippo wished he could be swallowed up by the floor. Elia froze with his shirt in his hands and turned to face Filippo. Before Filippo could look away, he caught a glimpse of Elia’s eyes and felt his heart crumble to dust.

The boy looked at Filippo with complete heartbreak. Filippo thought that if the eyes were the windows to the soul, then Elia’s soul was now a wreck that Filippo had created.

“I’m- I’m sorry," Filippo croaked out. "I shouldn’t have said that, that was awful and insensitive and—” Elia was in front of him before he could finish.

“I haven’t told my parents yet because-” Filippo almost thought he wouldn’t finish, "Because I don’t know if I can stand being hated by my parents."

Elia blinked, and a set of tears ran down his cheeks, "Is that so wrong of me Filo?”

Filippo could do nothing more than pull Elia close into a tight hug where he could feel Elia’s tears seeping into his shirt.

“Is it wrong of me to be scared that my parents will hate me for liking you?”

“No," Filippo murmured into the boy’s shoulder. "I’m so sorry I said that, I was a massive dick. I have been a massive dick."

Elia didn’t say anything in return but nuzzled into Filippo’s shoulder and held him a little tighter. Filippo pressed a tender kiss to the skin on Elia’s shoulder. Filippo felt the tension break as they clung to each other.

“I’m so sorry," he said again as their hearts thumped together, "Truly."

Again, Elia didn’t say a thing in response, so Filippo pulled them apart. It took force to pull Elia off of him, but he did it so he could cradle the boy’s face in his hands.

“Elia Santini, are so brave and you are not wrong to be scared, you are not wrong to be fearful. People can be shitty, hell, I’ve been shitty since we got together, and please, please do not think that I’m forcing you into coming out to your parents. That is the last thing I want."

Elia sniffled, tears still rolling down his cheeks, "Okay."

Filippo pressed a soft kiss to the boy’s lips, tasting the salt of his tears, it felt healing. They rested their foreheads together, and stayed there, Filippo’s hand on Elia’s cheek, until Elia found his tears had stopped falling.

“Now it’s my turn," Elia sniffled again, putting his hand over Filippo’s gently. "I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, you have been since the first night we kissed. I don’t think there’s anything in this world that could make me want to leave. Do you hear me?”

Everything about this was new. Filippo looked back on their time together, every moment, every disagreement, every time they made love sweet and slow, it was all new. He knew of passion and heat, but this, the anger and fighting words that didn’t tear things apart but instead grounded the pair and fostered a new, more raw connection, it was entirely unique to them. That was why, he realized, he wasn’t going to have to miss the boy, because the boy wasn’t leaving.

“Yeah, I do."

“Good," Elia pressed a gentle kiss to Filippo’s lips. Filippo reached back into his memory of the night they had first kissed. Everything had been buzzing with energy and potential, but now, after a fight that had raged through them both, there was no buzzing or jittery nerves. Filippo couldn’t feel the air vibrating with potential, it was still, quiet, completely comfortable.

Elia kissed him again, cupping his jaw with a tender hand.

They folded into each other then with a newfound freedom that had been lacking. Their disguises had been ripped off to reveal their truest selves underneath, their fears inscribed upon their chests for the other to see and it was liberating.

The bed softened the blow as they dipped into it, their hands completely covering the other’s body. Filippo pulled away, gazing down at the boy below him whose eyes were so full of compassion and heart that Filippo could feel the way the boy was looking at him, feel it so viscerally.

“I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met," Filippo said, words reflecting a truth he couldn’t deny, even if it felt exposing to voice them.

“What?” Elia’s cheeks flushed pink and his lips curved into a nervous smile.

“You heard me, you’re positively stunning."

“Stop it," Elia avoided his eyes, eyelashes batting delicately as his eyes swam for some purchase in the room beyond Filippo’s face.

“Not a chance darling," Filippo grinned down at him, dipping down for another kiss, determined to drive his point home.

“You’re completely gorgeous and I need you to know that," Filippo reiterated, stroking Elia’s cheek with his thumb.

“Okay," Elia nodded. "I hear you. Now kiss me again."

“With pleasure."

The kiss was sensual, deep and exploring but with no fight, no clash of tongue or teeth, just a meeting of lips, drawing emotions from both with each movement.

“Filo," Elia panted as Filippo kissed down his neck, “Please fuck me"

Filippo’s heart clenched, they had done many things, but they hadn’t gone the final stretch. They worked each other with fingers and tongues but cocks had never gone into any assholes. The pleading tone of Elia’s voice shook Filippo’s soul and he whimpered against the boy’s jugular.

“Please," the boy asked again."Filo."

“Yes," Filippo nodded eagerly, kissing the boy with vigor.

That night they made love for the first time. Neither of them could remember how many times they had fucked, the were normally so hungry for each other. They had fucked up against every single surface in the apartment and it would be hot and fast and lust filled, with them pulling clothes from each other’s bodies like mad.

But that night, there was a hunger that was of a different nature. It was a hunger for languid kisses and easy desire that stretched long into the night. Their sex was always push and pull, they were constantly swapping power, but that night, that night there was no telling who was in charge.

Elia rode Filippo, and though Filippo’s hands were on his hips and his cock was thrusting inside the boy, Filippo couldn’t help but feel that Elia was guiding them both with little effort. Elia lolled his head back, letting out throaty sounds that made Filippo’s heart clench and when Elia placed his hands on Filippo’s chest to brace himself Filippo’s soul whimpered out:

You can have it Elia, take my heart if you want it, it’s already yours.

They made love intensely until they were both lax with pleasure and nestled in each other’s arms with quickly melting senses.

Filippo pressed a chaste kiss to Elia’s temple, drawing a sated smile from the boy, who was curled to his side.Elia mumbled something incoherent and Filippo chuckled, drawing a hand through the boy’s hair.

“I can’t understand you baby."

Elia grumbled but repeated himself. "I think you’re really beautiful too."

Filippo’s chest was tacky with sweat and his skin clung to Elia’s cheek as he peeled himself up, locking eyes with Filippo."and not just beautiful like the men you see in magazines or up on billboards," Elia continued where Filippo hadn’t expected."you’re special Filo, you’re really special."

Elia traced Filippo’s bottom lip with his thumb, a content smile on his lips. "When you were pulling away from me, I was petrified. You’re so special I kept thinking you had tired of me, that you had found someone just as special to be with and would walk out the door the next morning."

Elia’s eyes saddened a little."you need to talk to me next time, and I need to talk to you. I know we’re practically still boys," Filippo chuckled at that."but being closed off does nothing but inflict pain on us and the people around us, don’t you agree?”

Filippo nodded. "I have something to add though, I had found someone as special, if not more special than me."

Elia’s eyes faltered when Filippo paused, so he rushed to continue.

"You Elia. I found you."

The boy’s flushed cheeks were flaring up again and Elia pressed forward to kiss him again, languidly licking into Filippo’s mouth.

“I have something to ask you though," Elia bit his lip. "Why did you think I was leaving you? What made you think that?”

Filippo pressed his hand into the small of Elia’s back.

"I’ve had lot of one night stands. That wouldn’t be a problem, but there are so many closeted, scared men in this country that the chances of the guy not wanting to stay over, not wanting to accept themselves as gay or bisexual is high. I can’t remember the last time that someone actually stuck around for longer than a fuck, maybe two if I was lucky."

“Filo," Elia pressed a kiss to his chest tenderly.

“It was so difficult to say goodbye to them that I sort of devised a way to give them an out. They go to the bathroom and when they come back I look like I’m asleep and they can slip out without any fan fair."

Elia looked on the verge of tears. "You were faking being sleep that night?”

“No, I was actually asleep, but sometimes I’m not tired enough and I just have to fake it. It’s always been the easiest solution, and I can’t remember one man before you who didn’t take the chance to leave me behind. And that really scared me, because I kept thinking you were going to leave and—”

Elia cut him off with a kiss that sent shivers down Filippo’s spine.

“I know I asked, but I don’t think I can hear about it anymore. Not right now, at least," Elia kissed tender kisses up Filippo’s chest.

“Now I’m going to take a shower," Elia announced, "but this time you’re coming with me or else we’ll both be miserable in the morning."

“Do you really think I can resist the prospect of you in the shower, completely naked and soaped up?”

“Well you have shown yourself to be quite a dunce today, so who knows what you might think up next."

“Oh you asshole."

Elia sped out the door, winking at Filippo from over his shoulder and well, Filippo chased after him as fast as possible.

“Filo."

The word blurred the line between the awake and his dreamscape and he groaned out in response.

“Just wake up for a moment," the voice said again.

Filippo cracked his eyes open just a touch, refusing to wake up any further than he had already. His frustration softened a little when the blurriness before him solidified into a face, Elia’s.

“I’m going out for a little while," Filippo felt a brush of lips against his own, soft and gentle, full of the residual energy of the previous night.

“Where are you going?” Filippo mumbled out.

“Nowhere," Filippo had closed his eyes again, Elia wasn’t abandoning him, the feeling of the boy’s hand on his cheek made that abundantly clear. "You keep sleeping, I’ll make us breakfast when I get back."

“Do you want me to come with you?” Filippo half hoped the boy would reject his request so he could fall back into slumber when he had gone, but the other half of him hoped he could take the boy out on his arm if Elia would let him, and join him wherever he was going.

“No, no, I woke you up because I didn’t want you waking up when I was gone and thinking I had left you."

Filippo’s mind was grasping only at the barest meanings of the words both he and Elia were saying, and he nodded lazily."that’s nice of you."

“Can I get one more kiss before I go?” Elia asked, and Filippo nodded.

“I do have morning breath though."

Elia chuckled, "See if I care."

Elia’s lips were back on his then, more insistent than before, but not nearly pushy enough to wake Filippo up any more.

------

Elia wasn’t back when he woke up, and Filippo was harshly thrown back in time to the very first morning he had woken up without Elia in his bed. The sheets on his bed were coincidentally the exact same he had stripped off his bed with anger that morning, leaving the mattress barren. He had kept them in his closet for weeks, refusing to put them back on, but here, the first time he had, Elia and his relationship had become honest, real and raw. He was in no hurry to get up, no hurry to disrobe the mattress, even though he was met with the exact same empty, cold, wrinkled sheets he had been that morning.

He rolled to Elia’s side and buried his nose in his pillow, overwhelmed with the scent of soap and oranges, equal parts clean, sweet, and bitter. It had been a long time – too long – since Filippo was able to smell the boy so strongly on his sheets. The scent was so inherently Elia it brought a raging smile to Filippo’s lips that he didn’t even try to tamp down in the solitude of his bedroom.

He wasn’t worried about the boy returning, that was a weight off his shoulders, but he couldn’t help the interest – confusion? – that ate through his insides. As he slipped out of bed and into a pair of loose sweatpants, he tried to think of where the boy could have run off to in the early hours of the morning after the biggest reveal of their relationship. Perhaps he was overthinking and Elia had simply run out for some pastries, he didn’t even know how long it had been since Elia had left, so that was a possibility. Beyond that, he found himself quite flummoxed for other possibilities.

Elia returned when Filippo was done his espresso and a fair few more pages through his book. The boy was empty handed, so the pastry idea was scrapped, but he did a small duffle bag with him that Filippo eyed curiously.

“Elia," Filippo smirked, "is there something you’re not telling me?”

The boy’s movements stuttered as he tossed the bag onto the couch. "What do you mean?”

Filippo stood up and began to walk closer."you need me to spell it out for you?” Filippo grinned and Elia seemed to get the picture. "You’re a drug mule aren’t you."

Elia looked from Filippo to the duffle and back again, face splitting into a grin."yeah, that bag is filled to the brim with cocaine," he began to laugh."I’d offer you some but then I might get killed by my drug kingpin boss."

“Well, we wouldn’t want that would we," Filippo chuckled and greeted him properly with a kiss.

“You taste like coffee," Elia grimaced when they parted.

“You – Elia ‘don’t talk to me before my morning coffee’ Santini are complaining about my lips tasting of coffee?” Filippo raised his eyebrows.

“I love coffee, not sour coffee kisses, there’s a difference Filo."

“So you’re saying if I wanted to lift you onto the kitchen counter and make out with you for the rest of the afternoon you would say no?” Filippo smoothed his palm against the bare skin of the boy’s waist.

“I mean," Elia couldn’t stop the smile from sneaking across his lips, "never say never."

Filippo smirked and leaned into kiss the boy again, but Elia pulled away. "That wasn’t a yes though, don’t get your hopes up. I was thinking we could go get something to eat."

“Outside of the apartment? Babe, if I remember correctly you said once there was no way you were leaving an empty apartment when you could share it with someone as sexy as me. And you said you’d make me breakfast did you not?”

The 'babe' had slipped out on its own accord, but Elia didn’t seem to mind, if anything he looked at Filippo with even more affection.

“I also believe I said I didn’t want to leave before noon, and look at that, it’s past noon," Elia’s cheeky expression softened and he bit his lip,"Please?”

That 'please' was all it took for Filippo to cave, not that he was holding back much in the first place.

“Do you have anywhere in mind?”

Elia seemed to relax at that. "Actually yes, there’s this pizza place that I’ve been reading really great things about," he pulled Filippo into another kiss, despite him complaining mere moments earlier about his coffee breath.

“You’re not going to bring your cocaine with you to lunch?” Filippo teased as he wrapped a woolen scarf around his neck.

Elia began to laugh as he leaned up against the wall, observing Filippo get ready. "That’s the plan. See, you and I go out for lunch and when we’re gone my connection uses the key I gave him and takes it all."

“So inviting me to lunch is part of the scheme, I’m offended Eli."

“Well I was trying not to get you involved in the madness, but now you know everything so what was the point?”

“You know what they say, curiosity killed the cat."

“Well at least when my boss assassinates you in your sleep I won’t have to feel guilty because it was all your curiosity’s fault."

Filippo tugged the door open with a scoff .”Oh yeah, because drug laundering in the first place wasn’t the cause."

Elia moved past him with the same heart enveloping grin he so often sported, and Filippo nearly said the words he had been trying to beat down for weeks, but he caught himself. Elia caught something too, reaching down and taking Filippo’s hand in his own before Filippo could take more than a few steps.

Looking back upon their time together made Filippo realize just how much he missed from Elia. He had been so caught up in his own head the entire time expecting Elia to leave him at any moment that he hadn’t seen just how much Elia was free about his sexuality.

But if there was anything that had been missing, it was the public affection. Elia hadn’t been particularly unaffectionate, but he had been more reserved in the streets of Rome than he had been anywhere else. They would walk alongside each other, occasionally bumping shoulders, but Filippo had never held Elia’s hand in public, and Elia had never initiated hand holding of his own accord.

Filippo realized that they weren’t standing in the busy areas of downtown Rome but in the quieter street where he lived, but it didn’t matter, he felt compelled to kiss the boy, regardless of whether or not they were in the middle of a public street.

So, he stepped closer to the boy and drew him in with a hand on the back of his neck. Mid kiss, Filippo worried he had overstepped, that he would pull away to a boy who would smack his shoulder and chide him for being so blatant about their relationship.

Instead, much to his relief he was met with a look of flushed cheeks and the words “Fuck, what brought that on?” with a curious smile.

“You."

------

“Damn, I was so confident in my choice," Filippo shook his head."but now I’m seeing yours, I’m jealous."

They sat near the back, in a somewhat secluded spot with few people sitting around them.

“As you should be," Elia grinned and took a bite of his pizza."this is what happens when you don’t listen to your genius boyfriend."

“Well, I can be a pretty big idiot sometimes, that’s become pretty evident," Filippo chuckled and took a bite of his own pizza.

“Yeah well, we’re young right, we can’t be expected to get everything right the first time."

Elia evaded Filippo’s eyes but reached forward and took his hand. Filippo wasn’t sure how he was going to properly eat his pizza, but the way Elia’s eyes were flitting around Filippo’s head without ever landing on his face made Filippo set his pizza down anyway.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“You know how I went out this morning?”

Ah.

“Sure do."

“I went back to my parent’s place."

Filippo furrowed his brow. "Is that where you got the cocaine?”

Elia let out a little laugh, short and quiet, so unlike his usual laughs that were bright and vibrant. "Yeah, that’s where I got the cocaine."

“Okay," Filippo nodded and squeezed Elia’s hand a little. Elia had pursed his lips and tightened his jaw, and it became glaringly obvious that something had happened.

For a moment Filippo felt tendrils of fear twist through him. Perhaps Elia was going to disregard everything that had happened the previous night and keep his lips locked, keeping whatever was bothering him inside. He could already hear the 'never mind, it’s nothing' in his head. Filippo hoped he wouldn’t, because if he did it would make all the fighting and bearing of souls the previous night all for naught.

“I told my parents about you," Elia finally made eye contact with Filippo and his eyes paired with his admission made Filippo’s heart expand to ten times its size.

“You…” Filippo blinked in disbelief. “Did you tell them about me in an – I have a new friend named Filippo with pink hair way or an – I have a boyfriend way?”

“U –” Elia bit his bottom lip with apparent uncertainty. "The second way."

Filippo couldn’t help but let Elia’s words from the previous day run through his head.

'I don’t know if I can stand being hated by my parents' he had said. He had clutched to Filippo with tears that stained Filippo’s shirt and yet there he was, not even a day later with an admission of coming out on his lips.

Filippo wasn’t quite sure what to say, even with Elia’s questioning eyes fixed on him waiting for a response of some sort. The admission had yet to settle within him, even though he knew it wasn’t his truth to accept, merely to support, and yet, words failed to settle on his tongue.

Perhaps he was waiting for Elia to guide him. He waited for Elia’s body and face to lead him in the direction he was searching for, for Elia to burst into a grin and regale Filippo with the way his parents had welcomed him with open arms. That reaction was all he could hope for, but the reaction he least expected. On the more likely side, Filippo waited for the complete deflation of the boy and the tears that signaled just how poorly his parents had reacted.

But that didn’t happen, instead Elia was stuck in some limbo of closed lips and unreadable eyes that brought Filippo pause.

“Why so suddenly?” Filippo couldn’t help but ask.

“I just – I needed to."

Filippo nodded insubstantially."How did it go?”

“So, they were obviously curious why I was back at the house without my backpack at such an early hour, and I was so tempted to waste time, just to grab some coffee and a pastry and push it off," Elia started,"But I didn’t, I just came right out and told them that I had a boyfriend, that I was bisexual."

Filippo let out a long breath, waiting for the worst.

“My mom dropped a plate in the sink and broke it," Elia’s lips flickered into something, but whether it was a frown or a smile was impossible to tell. "My dad began to question it, saying he didn’t understand – that I had dated girls – that I loved girls. He said he didn’t understand how I could come out as gay when I had brought girls home."

Elia let out a bitter, sharp laugh that was acidic to Filippo’s fast beating heart. "Which is hilarious because he knows about bisexuality, he’s heard about it in Church, about how it’s a sin. I think he was just hoping I would hear his words and go ‘You’re right! Silly me thinking I could like both boys and girls at the same time! I don’t like boys after all I’d better go break up with my boyfriend!”

Filippo automatically squeezed Elia’s hand gently, hoping it was some sort of a calming presence.

“Then they realized I wasn’t going to cave and they began to berate me. Why did I have to choose to be such a disappointment? Why couldn’t I just love girls like good Catholic boys do? How they knew that gay friend of mine would be a bad influence."

If they weren’t in the middle of a restaurant, Filippo would have thrown caution to the wind and pushed their table out of the way and held Elia closely. That wasn’t a possibility though, so he tried to do something, anything with his words, get close to some sort of physically affection and intimacy.

“Eli," he whispered, not wanting it to be a public statement, wanting it to be a word just for the two of them, "I’m so sorry."

“Don’t be sorry," Elia snapped at him,"It’s not your fault my parents are shitheads."

Filippo nodded tightly, mentally wincing from the blow he had just been dealt and not letting any of it show. "They were okay with you coming back to my place though?”

“Oh yeah," another biting laugh from his lips. "In fact, they said since I had the nerve to have gone and gotten myself a boyfriend, the least I could do was to spend the night at his place so they could process my new lifestyle choice."

How many times had he seen it, the pain that coursed through the veins of people who were forced to build a thick skin from the poor treatment of their own kin? He had had to grow his own thick skin to bear it from them, to bear hearing the stories from people who he had just met, but this, hearing Elia’s voice crackle and tear, it was fire to the skin of his being.

He himself wanted to curl up into a ball and hide away from the world with nothing but Elia under his palms until the world had become accepting enough that he could shield the boy from any hurt or harassment.

The two of them were alone in a very crowded room, while the people around them chatted with gay laughter, Elia and Filippo were in isolating silence, drawing out the already painful into excruciating thoughts.

That was until Elia pulled his hand from Filippo’s, abruptly pulling them from the silent spell.

“I just thought you should know," Elia reached to take a sip from his wine, trying to blink away the crimson staining the white of his eyes.

“Well I’m very glad you felt you could tell me," Filippo smiled a little and pulled his hand back from where it had been left empty on the table.

From that moment on, Elia seemed intent on acting as if nothing was the matter. Minutes passed where Elia’s eyes were stuck to the ceiling with iron clad determination to rid any tears from his eyes. When they finally fell on Filippo, the boy had regained nearly all of his boyish charm and joy.

He half wanted to undercut Elia’s change in demeanor by asking if he wanted to talk more. The boy had looked wrecked as he told Filippo and for him to rebound so very quickly seemed impossible.

He didn’t because he wanted to trust the boy, to follow his lead. As they continued eating, Filippo braced himself for a relapse, but instead Elia charmed him with his smile and asked if he wanted dessert.

They ended up leaving without dessert, but they left hand in hand, which in Filippo’s mind was just as sweet. Even sweeter though, was that when Filippo turned right in the direction of the bus Elia tugged him back insistently.

“I was thinking we could take the long way back," Elia grinned.

“That’s the only bus back to my place Eli."

“I know. I was thinking we could walk."

The long way around involved crossing through the middle of Rome, where pedestrians swarmed the streets and families populated the restaurant windows. Not once did Elia let go of his hand, in fact, at times, he moved even closer than before, telling anecdotes of times he and the boys had been up to no good.

“I think Luca threw up in front of that store one time," Elia laughed brightly and jostled Filippo’s shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, but I mean, I wasn’t exactly sober either so I could be wrong."

Pockets of silence wrapped around them but Filippo couldn’t have cared less, the weight of Elia’s palm in his own was a comfort, a solidifying presence that reminded him they were connected through any moments where they just let the resounding chatter wrap around them.
Filippo noticed many grimaces, many parents guiding their children away from the pair, he had never sheltered himself from the distaste of the general public. It was impossible, but he had long since stopped giving a damn. Elia it seemed, either had curtained himself from the public like many tried to do, or had already adapted to accept the situation.

Filippo leaned over as they walked and whispered into his ear. "You are so brave for telling them."

Elia turned to him immediately, and instead of the big, awe inspiring smile Filippo had been expecting, the boy’s eyes were soft and a gentle smile was gracing his lips. Next thing Filippo knew, he was being drawn into a hug that settled within him with ease.

Elia quietly began to sleep, mouth right beside Filippo’s ear."Filo, I–”

I love you, Filippo filled out on his own. Elia hadn’t continued though, something had made him pause. Filippo didn’t worry, didn’t crease his brow over it, there was no reason for him to, he had no reason to expect such a declaration after the previous night. So, he smiled a little and hugged the boy closer, feeling their heart collide through skin and bone.

“I’m so lucky to have found you," Elia said instead, and it was almost too much for Filippo’s system to handle. He pressed a kiss to Elia’s cheek and hoped it conveyed just how smitten he felt.

“Yeah, I think you’re pretty lucky too," he chuckled as they pulled away, and Elia gasped.

“How rude."

“You said it first darling," this time Filippo was the one to reach down and grasp Elia’s hand, and he couldn’t describe just how right it felt.

Later that night, after they had spent an afternoon walking the long way back and lounging in bed, Filippo began to think maybe he had underestimated his boyfriend. Not once had Elia shown signs of breaking down over the events of the day, not once had he seemed to grow teary eyed. Elia had been the boy that Filippo had grown to love, and Filippo thought perhaps Elia was stronger than anyone else he knew, including himself. Perhaps Elia was going to accept his parents’ disapproval and wave it off like it was nothing more than a mosquito trying to bite him.

Filippo was wrong. He had hopped off to brush his teeth while Elia changed for bed, but when he returned he could hear it down the hall. Long, wailing sobs that shook Filippo to his very core. He peered into the bedroom with hesitation in every fragile movement he made and found Elia curled up tightly on the bed shaking with tears.

Filippo wasted no time at all running to the boy’s side where Elia quickly wrapped his arms around Filippo and clung to him as if life depended on it.

“They hate me Filo," Elia sobbed and the force of the pure sorrow that ached through his words was enough to make Filippo’s tears flow just as strong.

“My parents hate me," his body shook with the force of the sadness of a son who feels completely unloved and abandoned by the people closest to him, the ones who vowed to support and love and cherish their child the moment he breathed his first breath of air.

Elia sobbed long into the night, even when all his tears had been spent and he was left dry, low drawn out wails left his lips, as Filippo silently shed tears and rocked the boy with as much care as he could. "It’s going to be okay baby," he whispered quietly into the boy’s shoulder. "I promise you everything is going to be okay."

He wished he believed his words, wished he could snap his fingers and make Elia’s parents accept and love their son. He wished he could be that hopeful, but he knew deep down just how unhopeful the situation was, and that made it all the more painful as he whispered the words of hope into the boy’s skin.

He knew things would be alright, he knew the boy had him, and had a group of friends worth their weight in gold, but that wasn’t what Elia was weeping for, he was weeping for the loss of the parent-child bonds that had just been snapped like they meant nothing. That was beyond repair, but it didn’t stop Filippo from soothing his boyfriend as if mending was no easier than a piece of tape and some decent words.

“I love you," he whispered to the boy after he had finally fallen asleep.

“You don’t deserve any of this," Filippo pressed a kiss to the boy’s forehead tenderly. He kept his arms around the boy the rest of the night, ready and willing to hold the boy if he fell to pieces again. He didn’t, but it didn’t stop Filippo from holding him close more often after that night, to make sure he could always be there when Elia needed him.

In the middle of making dinner the next evening, Elia’s phone lit up. It wasn’t unusual, Elia’s friends sent him a constant commentary about the horrendous study session they were in the middle of or the date Nico and Marti had been on recently. But when Elia picked up the phone, the way he looked from the screen to Filippo with wide, shocked eyes he knew the text held a special importance.

“It’s my dad."

Filippo dropped the carrot he was halfway through peeling to focus all his attention on Elia. Filippo watched and waited for Elia’s eyes to change, to finally reveal his situation. Had Filippo imagined the worst the previous night, yes. He had imagined moving Elia in because he was no longer allowed at home, he imagined the limp way Elia would react, folding himself into Filippo’s arms like a rag doll. He didn’t know how he would fare with another day of bone shaking sobs, and if he couldn’t hold it together he didn’t know how Elia would manage to pull himself together at all.

Instead, the opposite happened. Elia's eyes softened when another ding rang through.

“He wants me to come home so we can talk," Elia’s voice was shaky, as if he was about to teeter off of a very high platform. "Fuck, maybe they don’t hate me."

“Of course they don’t hate you,” Filippo moved to his side, planting a kiss to the boy’s cheek. "I don’t think it’s possible to hate you."

“You get so gushy sometimes,” Elia groaned, but he wore a grin.

“You love it,” Filippo teased back, letting the levity of the mood lift him up, happy to be the giddy, unafraid boyfriend as he returned to his carrot. "Do you want to head back after dinner?”

“No,” Elia said sternly, and Filippo looked up from his carrot again.

“No?”

“They allowed me back, and I will go back, but right now I want to spend the rest of the weekend with my amazing boyfriend and if they’re not happy about it they can fuck off."

Filippo went back to peeling, smile evident on his lips. "Alright then, I like it when you’re bossy."

Filippo continued to cook, but snuck another look up to find Elia’s eyes glued to his phone screen, hopeful smile cresting upon his lips. Filippo knew that ‘talking’ didn’t mean they were happy with his bisexuality, but his boyfriend had gone from complete devastation to elation and Filippo didn’t dare disturb it.

------

Elia returned from the bathroom, dropping the towel around his waist as soon as the door was closed. He chose a pair of pyjama pants from Filippo’s dresser and Filippo looked up from his book to admire Elia’s ass as he bends over. Elia catched him with a smirk and bit his lip.

“Should I wear these? You know I like sleeping naked better."

“You’re asking me if you should sleep next to me naked or with pants on?” Filippo tucked his bookmark in the book and set it to the side, raising an eyebrow.

“But we get all sticky when we cuddle naked," Elia frowned, "Plus, you’re dressed so I don’t get to see your body, which is sexy as hell."

“Elia, darling, you literally asked me to help you decide whether or not you should wear pants to bed."

“I know, I still can’t decide."

“Elia, I like you with and without pants.”

Elia winked Filippo’s way and let the subject drop, slipping the pants on until they hung around his hips. Filippo still wasn’t quite used to Elia dressed in his clothes, especially when he crawled over to his side of the bed without hesitation and settled under the covers, settling into the position they always had when they were sleeping.

Lights were turned off, goodnight kisses had, and Filippo wrapped around Elia in the way that made these moments before sleep some of his favourites of the day.

But then, within a matter of seconds Elia turned the lights back on, slid from Filippo’s arms and sat criss crossed on top of the sheets looking at Filippo with gentle eyes.

Filippo shook his head at the boy’s strangeness, “Alright Eli, what’s going on? I was just about to slip into a very relaxing, much needed sleep and I’m quite ready to get back to it, so what’s going on.”

“Babe, I’m about to get really sentimental on your ass, so shut up."

Filippo half wanted to grumble out something and stretch over to retrieve his book, but Elia was sitting across him looking incredibly caring, and something prompted him to say “Okay."

“Did I not just say that you shouldn’t talk?” Elia raised an eyebrow at him.

Filippo nodded and pressed his lips together.

“First, I know you work insanely hard at school, missing one reading for one class will not be your downfall."

Filippo nodded pitifully, but appreciated the sentiment.

“Now, I’m going to be going back to my parent’s house tomorrow, but there are some things I need to say first. I’ve known I was bi since I was probably fifteen. I mean, boys are fucking hot, how could I not love them?”

Filippo snorted and Elia continued. "But I never even considered coming out, I thought I could date girls as much as I wanted and marry a woman, but that I could keep the male thoughts inside. So I let myself stare, I let myself gawk, I probably made some guys uncomfortable but I didn’t care, because it was my only way of letting those thoughts escape my mind."

Filippo realized this wasn’t going to be a fleeting conversation and shimmied his way up the headboard so he was properly sitting opposed to Elia.

“I was petrified, I thought the entire universe would turn against me if it knew I liked boys. It kept getting harder though, I felt that I was erasing a part of myself, and the more I tried to isolate it and let it die, the harder the thoughts and urges came back. They kept trying to make themselves known, but I didn’t let them. But then, Martino came out and well, I started rethinking everything."

Filippo swallowed. He knew how the Elia’s story had turned out, and yet he still felt all the pangs of fear and anticipation as if this was someone else’s story he had never been told.

“I was so in awe at how accepting all our friends were, they just accepted it. For the first time I thought that maybe I didn’t have to let my bisexuality wither away, I wondered if maybe one day I could let it be free and actually be myself. I talked to Marti one day, not about myself, but about why he came out, and every word that came out of his mouth resounded so truly with me, I ended up in tears. I tried to mask it by saying that I was just happy for him, but he obviously knew something was going on. He really packed it on then, he started talking about how happy he was and how every fear he had had and every shitty person was so outweighed by how light he felt."

Elia’s eyes turned glossy in seconds. He never looked away from Filippo though, never tried to dodge the welling tears or act as if they weren’t happening.

“I kept thinking, if Marti could do it, I can do it too, we’re not so different. And then, I met you. Not kidding, the way you looked at me and the way you so blatantly flirted with me, it sent fire through my veins. And then we kissed and man, I realized that there was no way I was going to be able to hide that part of myself, not if I wanted to truly live my life without any hesitation. Because fuck, you’re such a good kisser."

Filippo and Elia both laughed at that. If this were a more casual conversation Filippo would have tackled the boy and peppered him with kisses, it felt like an urge to, but he held himself back and listened the way Elia needed him to.

“I didn’t tell them the real reason I was going back to your place because I wanted the first time I fully accepted myself to be something for just me, something that I could feel course through me before telling the rest of the world. I was also scared shitless Filo, I had no idea what was going to happen when I got to your apartment, I thought maybe I would be made a fool and you would kick me out on my ass—”

Filippo opened his lips to counter the boy but Elia stopped him. "I said shut up babe, so don’t you dare speak."

He pressed his lips together once more, and when Elia was satisfied he wasn’t going to speak, the boy began again.

“As I was saying, I thought you might kick me out on my ass, or maybe Ele would there and I wouldn’t even see you. But Filo, you were the best thing that could have happened to me that night. At a moment that could have decided how I led my life and if I told anyone, you were there, you kissed me and held me and made me feel like this was something I needed in my life."

Filippo felt his eyes grow teary too. Everything Elia was saying was such a deep truth and Elia was laying it out before him without care.

“I let it settle in my mind for a day or two but honestly," Elia cracked a large smile despite the teary eyes."I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and you hadn’t even texted me yet." Elia rolled his eyes."I just- It felt too monumental not to tell them about. So I did, and they were even more understanding than with Marti, they just let it slide off them as if there was nothing amiss and let me tell them all about you."

Elia hastily wiped away a tear from his cheekbone before it could fall any further. "And then I told my sister, and honestly I’m pretty sure she already knew. It was again, so easy and like nothing had changed. But I couldn’t tell my parents, that was one thing that felt insurmountable. Every time we were at the dinner table and I thought about just – saying it, they went and said something insensitive and I was left to share secret looks with my sister and swallow my words. It killed me Filo, it just tore right through me every single day and I could barely stand it, but the fear was stronger, it stole through my dreams and infected them time and time again. I hated it."

You didn’t tell me, Filippo wanted to say, I would have listened.

“And you were being so distant and pulling away, I thought you didn’t want to be with me any more. So, that was even more reason not to tell them, because I could secret it away until I got a boyfriend again, which could have been years down the line."

You could have any boy you wanted Eli, look at you.

“But then it all came to a head and we yelled and we kissed and everything felt so much more real, and that night when we had sex it felt so tender and affectionate that when we curled up afterwards I just realized how much I loved you."

Filippo let his lips drop open as his heart soared through his throat and into the space between the two of them. He imagined Elia’s was there too, the two of them occupying the limbo.

“I kept brushing my hand through your hair and I kept wanting to say it, but you fell asleep before I could get it out. But, the biggest thing that came from that is I looked at your sleeping face and felt your skin warm against mine and I realized that I loved you too much to keep you a secret. I was petrified, I couldn’t bear to think of the horrendous things my parents were going to say about us but I couldn’t care, not when you were lying beneath me—”

Elia took deep breaths, smoothing his palms against his thighs.

“That’s why I told them. I couldn’t stand the thought of not holding hands with you in public, or fearing that my parents were going to find out somehow, it needed to be out in the open on my terms."

Elia leaned forward and cupped Filippo’s face in his hands. "Then yesterday, you were hugging me in the middle of the street and I almost said it, I almost couldn’t stop myself. But then I saw the people around us, the parents and teenagers and straight couples and everyone was looking at us, because, well, we were two guys hugging each other in the middle of the sidewalk. I didn’t care if they heard us, but I wanted the moment when I said it to be just for us, just us where we started, in your bedroom."

Filippo grinned widely, like his smile was trying to jump from his face.

“Do you get what I’m saying?” Elia asked.

“I’m not an idiot, “Filippo chuckled, and Elia rolled his eyes.

“You’re such a dick, do you understand what I’m trying to tell you or not?”

“Yeah, I get what you mean. I want you to say it though.”

“I love you.”

“Fuck,” Filippo bit his lip and pulled Elia fully into his lap. “Say it again.”

“I love you Filippo Sava,” Elia kissed him hot and hard, just like their first.

“God, I love you too.”

“It sounds so good when you say it,” Elia kissed his cheek and rolled to his side of the bed, slipping under the covers.

“Then I’ll never stop saying it.”

“You’d better not.”