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The return of Luca and Giulia to Portorosso had brought the color back to Alberto’s life. While life was pleasant the rest of the year, the intense, scorching summers combined with the heart-leaping joy he felt at having his friends back made other seasons a dull affair.
The three teenagers spent most hours available at their disposal together, though the boys undeniably spent a little more time together alone. Corresponding through only phone calls and letters wasn’t easy, and the past two years they’d been romantically entangled hadn’t made the distance any easier.
Alberto really is happy as a clam.
Whenever he isn't remembering that Luca has applied to university this fall.
He's extremely proud of his boyfriend for applying, and himself for helping him go to school and finding his passions.
However, within him also lays the dormant selfish, tantrum-throwing bad kid he used to be. The hurt, little boy who his newfound friends and family almost had loved into extinction, but who still persisted in holding his heart in a jealous grip. That tiny part of him keeps insisting things won't work out, that Luca will leave him. After 19 long years of learning to live with that voice in his head, Alberto's good at shutting it up. Mostly. Maybe he has a bit extra, manic stressed energy to get rid of.
But it's good.
Luca's here.
Everything's fine.
With the impending doom of an unclear future, Alberto decided to spend the summer cementing the past, and pave the road for whatever the future held. Metaphorically. He spent a lot of time going through his already spare belongings and clothes, gifting things to Luca, Giulia, or neighbors. (He was especially glad whenever Luca accepted an old shirt of his that flared a proud possessiveness every time he wore it.) The purging made his body feel cleaner and mind clearer, like he could breathe more easily.
That’s why he roped Luca into renovating Isola del Mare. Both to have an easily accessible, yet comfortable place to hide from their families together, and as Alberto put it, reclaim the place by filling it with happy memories and the promise of a future.
Reluctant to spend money on the project, they’d become Portorosso’s favorite scavengers, making the rounds through town at least once a week, happily accepting what the other inhabitants deemed garbage. Put together with Alberto’s innate tendencies to hoard, not in any way reined in by Massimo who happily let him fill the house with junk, they’d turned the decaying ruin into a pretty decent cottage-like hideout.
Where the windows previously had been letting in chilly sea breezes from every direction, they were now covered by old windows from a neighbor’s renovation. The wooden floors that always gave their bare feet splinters, Massimo had shown them how to sand down and oil, returning the wood to its glory. Using his knowledge of fixing nets, Alberto had figured out how to sew curtains from old, floral bed sheets the Aragostas had given him. (Luca absolutely hated the curtains, but without a free alternative to offer up, couldn’t argue.)
Combining Luca’s title as idea man, Giulia’s theoretical strengths in both maths and engineering, and Alberto’s practical skills, they managed to build a table, a bench, and a couple of chairs from old pieces of scrap wood and rusty nails from local woodworkers. They hadn’t yet acquired enough materials to build a bed, so they’d simply thrown a bunch of pillows and blankets on top of a dirty old mattress and called it a day.
The finishing touches were the photos they’d both collected from their six year letter correspondence spread all over the walls, string lights and candles in every nook and cranny.
They'd kept a couple of staples from their youths - the shabby hammock Alberto once called his bed, and of course the gramophone they would still dance around. The crowning jewel was the frazzled Vespa poster, which Alberto had proudly framed in an ornate, antique gold frame.
In the eyes of a stranger, the interior of the tower might look like a rundown shelter for runaways, but to the couple it was the height of their romance, and they happily spent many a day simply existing alone, together, and nights talking and watching the stars, not a worry in their mind.
While the boys had rebuilt the tower, there’d been one doubt nagging at the backs of their minds. While they felt like they were building a future, both in time spent together and in material means, they were separately questioning what that future entailed.
Alberto had spent years carving out an unlikely life for himself in Portorosso, becoming a beloved staple of the quaint seaside town, a fulfilling life of hard work and friendly favors. A life he as a young boy didn’t dare imagine for himself.
In Genova, once a loud, overwhelming array of his senses, Luca had fallen in love with the bustling impulses of the city, the freedom to disappear into the crowd and suddenly find shabby streets markets in unfamiliar plazas, bump into a friend and have a coffee in a tiny café.
Neither wanted to rob the other of the life they’d built.
Neither were sure how far the other would stretch to compromise, not even how far they would stretch to compromise themself.
Despite devoting all the time and affection he can to his boyfriend, Luca can’t help but find Portorosso too quiet and still. Boring, if he dared say. Especially when Alberto works most days. Without the ever present school work looming, he has to force himself out of the house to do activities, simply to avoid turning into a sloth. His main goal has become reading at least three books a week, also requiring three trips out of the house a week to acquire more books.
Today he’d spent more time at the library than expected, meaning Alberto would be home before him. He happily trots down the narrow cobblestone streets, greeting familiar faces.
“I’m back!” Luca shouts as he shuts the door behind him. He stops to listen, used to the house being filled with one of the Marcovaldos singing along to the radio, puttering around, but is greeted only by the ticking of the kitchen clock. He absent-mindedly kneels to scratch Machiavelli, who’s sat down next to his shoes, demanding cuddles.
Luca does a sweep of the first floor, before climbing the stairs. He supposes Giulia and her father could still be out fishing, but Alberto had promised he would be back from his lifeguard shift by now.
Luca opens the door to Alberto’s room to find him sitting at the bed, looking up at him with an unreadable expression. There’s an envelope in his hands, which he simply holds out to him. Luca feels all the energy leave him like a punctured balloon.
“Oh,” is all Luca can say as he takes the letter. The paper is already soft and slightly crumpled from Alberto’s fingers worrying at the edges.
They’d been dancing around the subject all summer. Every time it came up, Luca would avoid it with a well, we just can’t know until I get an answer, can we? and Alberto would simply stare in another direction until a distraction was provided.
But now the answer had come, and they had to face it.
“Aren’t you gonna open it?” Alberto asks carefully.
“I, umm,” he begins, sitting down next to Alberto as he stalls for time. How can he explain the anxiety flaring through him, and the feeling that no matter what the letter deciding his future says, he’s gonna lose something special to him? He's pulled back to reality by Alberto’s hand rubbing comforting circles into his back. Luca sighs and nuzzles into his boyfriend’s neck. “I’m a little scared.”
“Me too."
"I don't want Massimo and Giulia to know... It's a little too much pressure when we don't know what to do yet."
“D’you wanna go to Isola del Mare and get some quiet while we figure it out?”
To preserve the letter, they take Massimo’s small dinghy. Neither say a word the entire ride, both trying to keep their minds clear by focusing on the sounds and smells of the early August evening. The tide is low, revealing forests of drying kelp, clouding the bay in the tangy smell of salt and decay. The sun is still up, but hanging lower in the sky than only a few weeks prior, coloring the sea with the early promise of golden twilight.
After taking in the scenery, Luca lets his eyes rest on Alberto’s face, seemingly glowing in the sun as he absent-mindedly steers the boat. His face still hasn’t betrayed any emotions.
Luca's heart beats a little faster as affection swells in his chest simply from looking at him. But in his stomach, a heavy weight is settling. He’s scared of what the future brings, and what will happen to them. He hopes to keep Alberto in his life, but the self-doubt in his mind keeps insisting he must choose between passion and love.
He lets out a yelp of surprise as the boat grinds to a halt on the little beach. Alberto jumps out and pulls it all the way out of the water, before Luca can even offer to help. He smiles fondly at how Alberto looks, his toned arms taut with the effort, and how he offers a hand to help him out of the dinghy afterwards.
They climb the tower, the silence between them growing heavier every second.
Once up, Alberto rummages around in a cupboard, procuring two dusty glasses and a carton of orange juice. Luca sits down by the table and accepts the glass poured for him.
“So,” he begins, putting the letter on the table.
“So,” Alberto agrees, sitting down opposite him and taking a large gulp of juice. He’s staring at Luca, yet not really meeting his eyes. Luca doesn't know what to make of it. He breathes a deep sigh and opens the envelope. Alberto begins tracing the rim of his glass with a fingertip as he reads.
“I got in,” he breathes with disbelief as his smile grows. Of course you will, he remembers Giulia chastising him whenever he worried, but he’d never really believed her. Pride swells in his chest, immediately chased by a punch of guilt to his gut. He glances up at Alberto. Now what?
“I’m so proud of you, Luca,” Alberto grabs his hand. While his smile seems as hearty as ever, it doesn’t fully reach his eyes, the usual crinkles around his eyes strained.
“Thank you,” he responds, carefully folding the letter and putting it back inside the envelope. “I got into every course I applied for, actually. So I have to choose between Genova and Roma, and of course which field I wanna pursue.”
“Astronomy, biology and engineering, right?”
“Mmm,” Luca absent-mindedly rubs circles into Alberto’s hand. “I have a couple of weeks to think, though.”
“So you’re definitely going, then,” he mumbles dejectedly.
“I… I think so, yes.” Luca feels a little confused. He thought he’d made it clear that if they accepted him, he would go. “What are you thinking, caro?”
Alberto is avoiding his gaze again, focused on his fingertips dancing on the glass. He takes his time, frowning and restarting his sentence several times, delicately choosing his words.
“I’m not sure. I… think that… I dunno. I don’t think I fully. Understood. That this was happening. Until now. And it’s… I don’t want you to go, well, I want you to go, I know you want to, but I don't want you to. Leave.”
Me, Alberto’s mind helpfully supplies. Don’t leave me behind again. Blood is rushing in his ears. He feels distant and faint, like he isn’t fully inside his body. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, focusing on Luca’s hand on his, an anchor in reality.
“Even if I go, that doesn’t mean I’ll leave, Alberto.”
“Why can’t you just stay here?” Alberto’s head whips up, eyes finally meeting his. The wave of anger surging to hide his hurt sends a chill down Luca’s spine. “I can provide for you. This is… this is your home, Luca. My home.”
“I’m not sure it is my home anymore, caro,” he begins, grabbing Alberto’s hand in both of his. “I haven’t actually lived here for six full years. I’m not sure Portorosso is for me anymore.”
Alberto frowns at their connected hands, trying to untangle the wires crossing in his brain that say you’re not for me anymore, that’s what he wants to say.
“I don’t think I can stay here. I’m not like you, I don’t have any practical skills needed in this town. Any town for that matter, right now. I have to keep studying to even qualify for any positions.”
“You could get a job at, I dunno, the library, or the flower shop, or the gelateria,” Alberto suggests.
“I could,” Luca agrees, his voice quiet. “But I don’t think I’d be happy. Do you?”
Alberto lets go of Luca’s hand and stands up, beginning to pace to stave off the anxious energy bubbling inside him. Luca is right. He’d himself helped him nourish his curiosity and love for learning, and given him the push to explore it.
Does he really want to take that away from him? Quench his passions, in favor of… him?
Like he’d ever agree to that.
Like he’d ever love you enough to choose you.
Alberto stops abruptly, wrapping his arms around himself. His thoughts are spinning faster and further out of control. Nausea and dizziness floods his chest, making him sway. His skin is crawling, making him desperate to scratch all over, scrub it off, free the storm brewing inside him. Soak his hands in water first, use claws to tear into himself, like he’s done several times before.
I’m so tired of being left behind.
Luca stands up next to him.
“Beto, you’re the one who dreamed about travelling the world, who’s always pushed me to go further, learn, explore, the one who gave me the courage to do it. I kind of thought you’d want to come with me, to Genova or Rome? I’m sure you’d love it.”
How can he explain that his dreams are rooted in fears, that while he’s always said he’d up and leave, he's terrified of the prospect of change? How can he live anywhere else, without the safety net of the neighbors and friends who rely upon him? How can he live anywhere he isn't needed? What if Luca doesn't need him?
Alberto knows, not even very deep down, that one day, Luca will grow tired of him. Have enough. Everyone does. Thinking about it, hadn’t he heard the echo of his father sometimes when Luca sighed? That exasperated sigh that would stab at his heart, knowing he had done something bad, without understanding what. Why should he uproot his life, when Luca, probably sooner than later, will leave him?
The emotions drain from him as he reaches his conclusion, leaving only the ice cold clarity of his self-deprecating logic.
Don’t cry. Make it easy for him.
“Maybe this is it then,” he mumbles, refusing to make eye contact.
Luca stares at his boyfriend in shock as a shiver runs down his back. He can't possibly mean that… can he? He thought they were on the same page, but now doubt is fluttering in his stomach. Luca gently grabs Alberto's hands where he’s pierced his fingernails into his biceps, uncurling them and taking them in his. “Don’t say that.”
Alberto pulls his hands away and turns away. “You deserve better, anyway.”
A riptide of emotions surges inside Luca’s heart. All his love and anger at the other boy collide with his own guilt and insecurities. It rushes through him, filling every inch of his body, until he can’t hold it back anymore. “No!” he yells, “Don’t you dare say that to me. Don’t you dare say that after all we’ve been through. After changing my life, after making it better, every single day!”
Alberto’s back betrays no reaction. High on frustration and adrenaline, Luca grabs his shoulder and turns him around to face him.
Alberto doesn’t resist, but keeps his eyes averted. Eyes that are glistening with tears, a few already spilling, drawing patterns of dark indigo scales down his face. His cheeks are flushed, his lips red and swollen where he’s choking back his emotions. Luca swallows thickly, guilt filling his throat.
“‘m sorry,” Alberto’s voice breaks. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.” Internally, he’s chastising himself at breaking so easily, fuck , why can’t he do this anymore, why can’t he just shove him away like he used to? This is for Luca’s best, why can’t he stop being a pathetic crybaby for two seconds, for his sake?
Luca’s heart shatters at the boy’s demeanor, and everything lurking under the surface of the simple statement. While he doesn't know the exact details of Alberto’s relationship to his biological father, he can’t help feeling like he's not a stranger to saying that phrase to protect himself. His heart breaks for every time Alberto has had to hide his heart for the sake of self-preservation, and how he still hides even from him to shield himself from being hurt.
Luca touches his face, wiping away the tears and scales. “It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault, and it never was. None of it. Not this, and not any of your childhood. That was all his doing.”
Alberto, already chewing on his bottom lip, bites down hard enough to draw blood. He’s well aware that Luca knows him and reads him uncannily well, but not that he sees right through him. Right through all his facades. The realization makes a chill spread through his chest, his self loathing starting to twist and distort Luca’s words. He knows too much. You can’t stay - he can’t know - you’ve been deceiving him - now he sees you for what you are - how much of a fuck-up you are - how pathetic you are -
“Beto, look at me,” Luca whispers and lifts his chin. Alberto complies, but his eyes keep flickering away, unable to handle the raw emotion in Luca’s.
“I’m not mad at you. Well, just a little. But that’s because it makes me sad to hear you talk about yourself like that. Like you don’t deserve me, like you don’t deserve love,” Luca speaks slowly, deliberately, praying his words will breach the boy’s walls. “You deserve so much love, Alberto, you deserve all the love.”
Alberto’s eyes well over again. Luca’s voice is beginning to crack, tears burning in his eyes as well, yet, he persists. “You have so much love! Your family, everyone in Portorosso adores you, you have me You have all of my love, and you always have. I can’t deserve any better, because you’re the very best thing I could ever have. You’re my favorite thing.”
Alberto seems to slump, all the tension of fight and flight leaving him. He’s so tired, so broken down, he doesn’t have the energy to hold back as sobs rack through him. Luca gently guides him to the bed, sitting them down and shoving his boyfriend’s face into his chest, wrapping him in a safe, warm cocoon. Alberto throws his arms around him, his hands fisting the back of his t-shirt, holding onto him like a lifebuoy in a storm.
Luca simply strokes his back and hair, letting his own tears fall and slumping back on the bed until they're lying more than sitting. His heart aches wondering if Alberto has ever had anyone hold him while crying, or simply been left to his own devices.
After a couple of minutes minutes, Alberto’s sobs slowly die out.
“Thanks. I needed that,” he sniffs, pulling away to look bashfully up at his boyfriend. His face is a splotchy mess of blue scales mixed with puffy, red skin. Luca smiles fondly and wipes his face gently with his already drenched t-shirt.
“I’m sorry for being… shitty before. I…” Alberto pauses, scanning his brain for words he’s never tried articulating before. “I get… so scared whenever we argue, or just if I can’t understand you. I don’t have any - I have no distinction between… a normal argument and thinking you hate me and are gonna… leave me. I think I kind of… lash out, so I can hurt you before you hurt me.”
Luca hums sympathetically. “I’m not gonna leave. You know I love you, Alberto.” He flinches, making Luca’s eyes flicker in sudden confusion. Was that the wrong thing to say? “What’s going on, caro?”
“I… he used to say that. It just- it’s not- I’m sorry-”
Luca shushes him. “It’s fine. I’ll remember that. But I do love you.”
Alberto averts his eyes and frowns, trying to find the right words to say instead of the instinct to snap, no you don’t. “I, umm, l-likewise, of course, but it’s… It’s too much. I’m not ready to say it.”
“That’s okay. Take your time,” Luca scooches closer and kisses his forehead.
“... but I really liked it when you called me your favorite thing..."
Luca pulls back to survey his boyfriend's face, which has turned a dark crimson. His heart flutters at how adorable he is. He takes Alberto's face in his hands and looks him directly in the eyes with a little uncontrollable grin. “You are my favorite thing,” he mumbles and kisses him softly, slowly, hoping to convey his affection with touch where words can't. Luca moves to kissing his freckles and dimples, repeating the words like a mantra. Alberto’s nose scrunches as he giggles at the tickling.
“Alright, that’s enough, you hopeless sap-” he protests, the instinct to protect his vulnerabilities flaring up.
“No it’s not.”
“Luca, it’s- haven’t we squared up enough now-”
Luca sits up and bends over Alberto, close enough that his wavy fringe tickles Alberto’s forehead. “No,” he says forcefully, “I need you to understand how much you mean to me.”
Alberto’s breath hitches and his heart pounds. He’s equally excited at the assertiveness, and terrified at how intensely intimate this is getting. The excitement and curiosity wins him over. “Then show me, Paguro,” he whispers seductively.
Luca quirks an eyebrow. There's been a couple of times where Alberto has come to him wild-eyed with a storm cloud above his head, and demanded, overwhelm me so I don’t have to think. Luca is fairly certain this is what he's asking for, which fits perfectly with his plan of forcing his boyfriend to understand how loved he is. “Oh, you want us to go there?”
“Very much so,” Alberto mumbles, eyes flickering to Luca’s lips.
“Like this?” the brunet asks, swiftly grabbing Alberto’s wrists and pinning them above his head. Alberto gasps and nods, staring up at him needily with pupils blown wide.
“I can’t say no to that face,” Luca sighs, moving to fully straddle Alberto, who groans. “... are you hard already?”
Alberto nods again, his face flushed and flustered, looking absolutely delicious.
“You’re so precious, Beto,” Luca leans down to whisper against his lips, simultaneously twining their fingers together. The blonde’s eyes flutter shut. He continues trailing light kisses against his jawline until he reaches where his fins would be, where he devotes extra attention with small nibbles. Alberto is already quivering underneath him.
“My favorite thing,” he breathes right next to his ear, and is rewarded by goosebumps spreading down his neck. Luca releases his hands and begins softly stroking his neck, caressing the sensitive area where his gills reside. Alberto whimpers and buries his hands in his hair. Luca tuts, untangles the hands and pins them down again. “No touching,” he smirks.
“That’s unfair!” Alberto snaps.
“What’s unfair is you doubting me when I say I care about you. When you believe me, you’ll get the privilege back.”
Alberto whines, but dutifully keeps his hands on the mattress when they are released. Luca grins and begins planting open-mouthed, wet kisses down his neck, leaving scales in his trail. “It’s not like I doubt you. I trust you. But not... myself.”
“I know, tesoro,” Luca sighs into his neck. “That’s something you need to work on yourself, unfortunately. But don’t you dare try to push me away. I’ll never leave you, never leave you alone.” He punctuates his words with kisses along his clavicles.
“But what if one day you do and you feel like you can’t because I’m so needy, and you just grow resentful, and-” He's interrupted by Luca dominating his mouth in a hungry, forceful kiss. When he pulls away, Alberto is cross-eyed and panting underneath.
“Did you want a therapy session, or for me to quiet your mind?”
"Number two, please," Alberto mumbles licking his lips.
"Don't fight back. Listen to me, not the stupid voices in your head. And take off your shirt.”
Alberto obliges, and Luca wastes no time diving back in, determined to drown out every negative thought in Alberto's mind. His hands seem to be everywhere, tracing the hummingbird heartbeat on his throat, wrists and ribs. He kisses him sweetly, teasingly, mumbling sweet nothings every time he has the breath. Alberto tilts his head up, demanding more, their tongues sliding together in passion until they are more moaning into each other's mouths than kissing. His fingers are twitching with the urge to touch his boyfriend, but he clutches them in the bedsheets, dutifully waiting for permission.
When Luca pulls away from the kiss, Alberto tries chasing his lips, but is playfully pushed down.
"I don't think you understand how many hours I've spent on you. Did you know Giulia had to help me with homework most days, because I'd been too busy thinking about you to pay attention?"
Alberto shakes his head.
"Do you know how many times," Luca moves his hands to Alberto's thighs, which are spread willingly, allowing him to lower down and press their hips together. "I touched myself thinking about you?"
Alberto looks bewildered. "You did?"
"Mmm," he purrs, voice a low, seductive whisper, as he grinds his hips down, both of them groaning at the friction. "I would hold a pillow to my face to keep quiet, and think about your eyes, and your freckles, your broad shoulders, your strong hands, your smile..."
"Dio santo, Luca," the blonde whimpers and throws a hand over his eyes, overwhelmed at how intensely Luca is working both his body and mind.
"Don't look away," Luca smiles sweetly, removing Alberto's hand, intertwining their fingers and kissing them. He waits for Alberto to hold his gaze before continuing, "I would dream about your wonderful fingers," here Luca pauses to lavishly suck his pointer finger, "stroking my cock," - his middle finger - "sliding inside me," - his ring finger - "pulling my hair, then shoving my face into the mattress to fuck me-"
"Luca!" Alberto exclaims, his face crimson at his boyfriend's suddenly lewd words. Luca releases his hand and giggles, sitting back up to straddle his thighs.
"Didn’t you?”
“Not that graphic!” Luca stares at him knowingly. “...ok, I totally did.”
“Tell me.” Alberto’s eyes snap to his, his demeanor turning nervous. Luca’s gaze is intense and demanding on his. “Please?”
“Uhh,” his voice trembles, and he looks away.. It’s ridiculous, really. They are literally having sex right now, but sharing his fantasies feels too intimate, like sharing a secret part of him that betrays his thoughts and feelings against his will. He dismisses that fear, making a mental note to unpack that later. “Mostly innocent stuff… but there was one…”
“And?” Luca hums, watching him intently. Alberto closes his eyes to focus.
“I- we would come here to be alone, and we would make out, and you looked so beautiful in the moonlight..."
"And then?"
"I'd start stroking you, first over your pants, until you took them off. I would touch you carefully, f-fisting your cock…”
“And then what?”
“I’d eagerly lick up all your pre-cum, then kiss and bite all over your thighs, teasing you until you’d beg me to suck you off…”
“Mmh, Beto…” Luca sighs in pleasure. Alberto’s eyes fly open to find the brunet palming his own cock through his pants.
“Cheater!” Alberto shouts. “If I’m not allowed to touch you, you’re not allowed to touch yourself!”
“I couldn’t help myself,” the brunet mumbles bashfully. “I, ah, can’t deny I would love it if you did that sometime.”
“No time like the present, eh?” Alberto smirks, his hands stroking all the way up Luca’s thighs. Luca shakes his head and removes his hands again.
“Stop being cheeky and impatient, Beto. This is about you, not me. Now tell me,” Luca moves to straddle him again, making their hips meet, and hovers his face over his boyfriend’s. “What did you fantasize about me doing to you?”
Luca grins as Alberto’s face flushes again.
“I… a lot of the same really?” he tries to sheepishly brush it off.
“I need specifics, caro.” Luca sucks at his neck, provoking the reappearance of his gills, which he licks lavisciously, his tongue sliding along the slits, eliciting groans from the blonde.
“Alright,” he swallows thickly. “I, umm… very much the thing happening right now, of course…” Luca hums pleased against his gills. “And I would think about you kissing down my chest, licking my nipples… maybe biting a little…”
The brunet seems to obey his fantasies, moving his attention to one of his nipples, licking and kissing lavishly. Alberto cries out as Luca bites down, his hips bucking into the boy’s abdomen.
“Keep going,” Luca mumbles as he moves to the other nipple.
“A-and you’d keep kissing your way down… lower and - ah - lower…” his heartbeat pounds in his ears as Luca obliges him.
“Would I take off your pants?” Luca whispers, the puff of breath ghosting over his navel. Alberto hums and their fingers brush as they both begin undoing his belt. Luca grabs the waistband of his underwear and pulls all his remaining clothes off in one fell swoop. He licks his lips, staring expectantly at Alberto’s swollen cock, waiting for direction. Alberto swallows thickly, his reluctance vanished.
“You’d play with my balls,” he pauses to moan when Luca happily obeys, “squeezing them, then kissing them, continuing all the way up my cock,” he watches in awe as his wishes are fulfilled, “pull back the foreskin to kiss the head...”
Alberto can’t help thinking how if he could travel back in time and tell his teenage self that one day this would happen and it would be even better than he could ever imagine when he used to lay in bed at 3 am bucking into a pillow, he’d never believe it. He couldn’t possibly have imagined how good Luca looks, deliciously flushed with chestnut eyes focused solely on his cock, lips teasingly sucking on the head. “... and you’d start licking the slit, again and again,” he whimpers, “like you would a gelato- ”
He’s rudely pulled back to reality by a burst of laughter.
“Was that why you insisted on buying me gelato every summer?! Were you fuelling your dirty little dreams?!”
“Oh my God, no!” Alberto shouts and claps a hand over his mouth to hide his mortified embarrassment, though he can’t help chuckling too. “Not on purpose! Maybe a little! Subconsciously!”
“You’re so ridiculous,” Luca giggles. “I’m glad my love of sweets kept you entertained as a horny teenager.”
“I’m sorry,” Alberto snorts.
“Nevermind,” Luca smiles, turning his attention back to his cock. “Did you think about me doing this?”
Alberto’s breath catches in his throat as Luca dives down, slowly sinking his cock into his mouth, further, further than he’d ever done before, until the head touches the back of his throat.
“Cavolo, Luca, I didn’t know you could do that- you’re amazing, oh my god-” he groans breathlessly. Luca releases his cock with a small pop , a mixture of spit and pre-cum on his lips as he grins widely.
“Haven’t you noticed how I’ve been eating a lot more bananas lately?”
Alberto’s heart skips a beat at his proud expression- he’s been practicing- wanting to please him- he feels a flush rise in his cheeks.
“Y-You've been deep-throating bananas in secret all summer?!"
"Yep!"
"I swear you're gonna kill me one day," Alberto mumbles.
“Yep,” Luca giggles and gives his cock a light peck. “I’m working on it.”
Once again, he sinks Alberto’s cock into his mouth, rewarded by a lewd moan and a string of breathless praises and curses. Luca begins bobbing his head up and down, taking him all the way in every time. Alberto can’t resist tangling his fingers in his auburn curls - thankfully, this time Luca lets him - stroking them gently back so he can see his eyes, which are gazing intently up at him, half-lidded and pupils wide. He whimpers and throws his head back as Luca’s mouth constricts, doubling the tight friction wrapped around him.
“I-I’m almost there, Luca,” Alberto breathes. Luca hums around his cock and takes him all the way in one final time, before sliding off him.
“I have other plans for you tonight,” Luca lays down next to his boyfriend and carefully swipes a drop of sweat off his cheek. Alberto looks at him in lust-addled confusion. “I was hoping you’d let me fuck you?”
The blonde blushes furiously and chokes out a weak, please. Most of the time it was the other way around, but on a night like this, Luca dominating him and overpowering all his senses is exactly what he wants. Luca’s smile in response is too bright for his fragile little heart to handle. He moves to rustle in the bedside drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube.
“Roll over, please,” Luca says, guiding them both to lay on their sides facing each other, barely any space between them. Alberto shivers at his sensitive, heated skin pressed up against Luca’s clothed body.
“Why are you still dressed? This is unfair…”
“Because I call the shots tonight, Alberto.”
Alberto grumbles and slides his hands underneath his shirt, his chronically cold fingertips eliciting a squeak from the brunet. He grins and pets his way up and down his back, delighting in the goosebumps left in his wake, while his boyfriend drenches his fingers in lube.
“Now, I got distracted for a bit by how gorgeous you are,” Luca announces as he slides his arms around him, “but I’m still not done convincing you how much I care about you.”
“I’m plenty convinced, caro. ”
“I don’t think so, Scorfano,” he continues, his hands spreading Alberto’s cheeks to gently work his hole. “You think you’re all suave and good at hiding your feelings, but I can read you like an open book.”
Alberto moans, not daring to look away from Luca’s serious gaze. His heart stutters a little, confused by the feeling he’s being reprimanded, yet warmed at the intense conviction and love in his boyfriend’s voice. He eagerly hooks a leg around Luca’s hip to grant him access.
“I see you, Beto,” he whispers. “I see how every time I tell you something nice, you think I don’t mean it. Do you think I would lie to you?”
Alberto closes his eyes with a shaky breath, biting his lips. “I’m sorry, I do believe you, I-”
“Ssh, caro,” Luca slowly pushes a finger into him. “I know. It’s not your fault, but please, let me undo everything he did to you.”
Alberto whimpers, his shaky hands clawing at Luca’s back. He rolls his hips, seeking for Luca to hit his prostate, groaning when his cock rubs against his boyfriend’s thighs.
“Don’t let the bastard in your head win over me,” Luca says sternly, while gently coaxing another finger into him, both hitting his prostate in just the right way. Alberto cries out, almost a sob, the sensation of Luca’s words and actions overwhelming his already fraught emotional state.
“Look at me,” Luca breathes. Alberto obeys, their faces so close his eyelashes brushes against Luca’s nose, staring directly into his favorite rich, chocolate eyes.
“I’m here, I’m real and warm and I love you so much.”
Alberto buries his nose underneath the brunet’s jaw and clutches at his back, desiring to be closer, to climb inside Luca where everything is warm and safe.
“I know,” he whimpers shakily, not able to hold back anymore, his words coming out in a jumble between his pants. “That’s what scares me. I- I- do too, desperately, I can’t stand it when you’re gone, I can’t stop thinking about you, I- ahhh-” He's interrupted by Luca moving his fingers to actively work at his prostate, causing him to moan wantonly, but refusing to give up his ramble. “God, Luca, I miss you all the time, even when you’re here. I can’t stand the thought of you leaving me again.”
“I will never leave you,” Luca says determinedly, “I'll be right by your side, as long as you'll have me-”
“As long as I’ll have you?!” Alberto exclaims, pulling back to stare at his boyfriend in shock. “I’ll always want you. It’s you who’s-” he bites down hard on his bottom lip to catch himself.
“Me who’s what?” Luca looks puzzled.
“Who’s... gonna get tired of me,” he sighs, defeated.
“No,” Luca nudges at Alberto’s face with his nose to catch his eyes again. “Don’t let him win. Let me inside instead. Silenzio.”
He pulls Alberto into a forceful, passionate kiss, the sheer emotions making his head spin. His chest aches from how intensely vulnerable he feels, yet every word Luca says untangles every anxious knot tied around his heart. He whimpers helplessly when Luca slides another finger inside him and continuously rubs against his prostate. Luca breaks the kiss, moving down to aggressively nip at his throat.
“I want to be the only voice inside your head, because you’re mine. Only mine.”
“Yes,” Alberto chokes on the emotions stuck in his throat. “I’m yours, I always have been...”
“And you always will be,” Luca growls, continuing to bite and suck at his throat. Alberto worries absent-mindedly if he’d get bruises, fuck it’s summer, I can’t hide them, but the arousing thought of being marked by Luca wins.
“Always.”
“Are you ready?”
“Yes, please,” Alberto breathes. “How do you want me?”
“On your back,” Luca mumbles, pulling his fingers out and sitting up to start pulling the shirt over his head. Alberto happily rolls over. Luca’s breath hitches looking down at his boyfriend splayed out, completely open, gazing up at him with wide pupils filled with lust and unhesitant devotion, clearly enjoying the view of him undressing. He blushes, hurrying to undo his belt, his heart hammering in his throat.
Alberto waits impatiently, the surging need to be touched coursing through his body, a strong current he wanted, needed to give himself up to. When Luca is finally nude, he reaches out to grab his hand and pull him back into his embrace.
“You good?” Luca asks, carefully stroking away the sweaty curls sticking to his boyfriend’s forehead.
“Not until you’re inside me,” Alberto mutters, leaning up to capture his swollen lips.
“Mmm, still cheeky as ever,” Luca grins and grabs his thighs. Alberto willingly spreads them, wrapping his legs around his waist once he’s positioned himself. Luca meets his eyes inquisitively, getting the final nod of approval before he begins slowly pushing inside, met with loud groans from both boys.
“I a-always forget how thick you are,” Alberto pants, rolling his hips to help guide Luca inside.
“Sorry,” Luca groans, gritting his teeth to repress the urge to force himself inside. “I’ll go slow.”
“No, I- ah- love it,” Alberto moans, his eyes closing. The stretch is almost painful, but he enjoys it, enjoys giving himself up. He wraps his arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Luca drops his head onto his shoulder, unable to look at his boyfriend’s flushed, sweaty face panting in delirious pleasure.
“You feel so fucking good, caro,” Luca growls.
“More, please.”
Luca keeps going, trying to balance between thrusting inside, burying himself deep, and going slow enough to ease his boyfriend into it.
“All the way, Luca, don’t be shy,” Alberto gasps impatiently.
Luca obliges, pushing in faster than he would have liked, but Alberto moans happily. Luca breathes shakily into his throat, relishing the tight heat wrapped around his cock and trying to regain his composure. Alberto kisses and strokes through his curls, whispering sweet nothings into them.
“Ready?” he asks with a kiss to his Adam's apple.
“Very,” Alberto breathes.
Luca begins moving, sliding slowly in and out to adjust them to the sensations. Alberto gasps with every movement. He pulls at his hair, moving him into a sloppy but passionate kiss. Alberto breaks the kiss when Luca finally finds his prostate, sending electric shocks through his body. “Yes, Luca, dio Santo, right there, more-”
Luca suddenly picks up the pace, thrusting into him hard, quick, hitting that spot every time. He grins playfully against his lips as Alberto’s keens turn staccato and higher in pitch with every movement. He slows down again, licking up Alberto’s throat to feel the heavy breathing through his gills.
“Are you trying to kill me, Paguro?” Alberto gasps.
“Yes,” Luca punctuates his words with gentle nips to his throat, “I’m going to kill you with kindness,” Alberto whimpers as he thrusts deep into him again, “drown you in love.”
Their moans come in rhythmic unison as Luca sets a steady pace. Alberto clings onto him, desperate to get him closer, deeper than possible, his heels digging into his back, bucking his hips eagerly to meet his movements. His mouth hangs open as he pants, moans intelligible praises while his boyfriend keeps lavishing attention onto his throat, and it’s too much, entirely too much when Luca pulls back to gaze fondly at him with his dilated pupils and flushed skin and hitched breath. He clenches his eyes shut, throws a hand over his eyes to shield himself.
“Let me see,” Luca whispers. “I’ve never seen your face when you come. You always look away.”
“I- I can’t,” Alberto whimpers. “It’s too much-”
“Please, Beto. Stop hiding from me.”
The brunet grabs his hand and Alberto relents, grabbing onto Luca’s curls instead, greedily pulling him closer.
“Good boy,” Luca whispers as he rests their foreheads together. Alberto chokes down a sob at where he’s heard those words before, but never this kindly, adoringly. Don’t think about him, he’s gone, it’s only Luca, Luca, God, Luca - who’s forcing him to forget every thought he’s ever had with every sweet thrust.
“Can you still hear him?” the brunet breathes onto his face.
“No, just you, oh my god, Luca,” he keens hoarsely, unable to keep his vulnerability in check any longer, “you’re- you’re everything to me - I can’t- please don’t leave me,” he breathes, voice cracking.
Luca slows down, and buries himself all the way inside, gently rocking against prostate.
“You think I’ll leave you when I don’t feel like myself when you’re not with me?” he gasps, also choking up as he stares into his eyes. “Beto, you don’t have my heart, you are my heart.”
Alberto feels his eyes well over again, unable to hold back the flood of emotions roaring through him, but now they’re not cold, hard, bitter, scared anymore, they’re warm, soft, pure love for his boyfriend. He lets them fall, roll down his cheeks, leaving trails of scales that Luca gently kisses.
“Let go, caro,” he breathes, staring deep into his eyes with his own heavily lidded, dark ones, as he continues fucking him, deep and hard. Alberto claws at his back, causing Luca to moan in wanton abandon and hoist his hips up further and the change of angle makes his cock hit Alberto’s prostate so perfectly, he keeps relentlessly, desperately bucking into him, over and over and over-
Alberto chokes on a whimpering sob of Luca’s name as he comes, the orgasm hitting him hard, shattering what walls he has left as his mind goes blank. Luca times his thrusts with the waves of pleasure rolling through him, keeps hitting his prostate to prolong the sensation, making him gasp and keen and clench down on Luca’s cock, who stutters out a moan as he empties himself inside his lover.
He’s brought back to earth by Luca’s gentle fingers on his face, wiping away more tears that apparently have been flowing uncontrollably. He smiles at him, fondly but seeming a little nervous.
“Are you okay, caro? Did I… was it too much?”
“Luca, that was perfect,” he pulls his boyfriend in for a hug. “Exactly what I needed. Thank you.”
“Are you done thinking silly thoughts about me leaving you?”
“I think I’ll never stop thinking them,” he hums thoughtfully, “but you’ve done a pretty good job making them a lot quieter.”
"Every time you say something like that to yourself, I want you to imagine me hitting you up the head-"
"Can't I imagine you kissing me, I'd prefer-"
"- and then kissing you dizzy."
Alberto’s heart flutters and he grins. “I think I can do that.”
Luca gives him a quick peck before sitting up, pulling out of him, both wincing a little. He grabs a washcloth hanging off the edge of the bed stand and cleans them both up before laying down on his side, facing Alberto.
“So about my going to university...”
“Luca, it’s fine. I’m very happy for you, and so proud of you. You should go, of course,” Alberto sighed, chastising his past self for making his boyfriend doubt himself. “I’m not fully convinced about coming with you, but I’m not gonna hold you back. This relationship - you are too important to not fight for. We’re gonna work out. I’m sorry for having a tantrum about it.”
“I think calling it a tantrum is a bit reductive.”
Alberto feels his gut reaction of callous humor put up its haunches to protect him. Then he glances at Luca, who is open and honest and accepts him, and lets it go. “Maybe. I dunno what else to call it though.”
Luca hums thoughtfully and takes his hand. “I can’t undo the harm done to you. And I don’t know how to help you beyond loving you no matter what happens. But… you believing in yourself and not beating yourself up - that’s work you have to do yourself.”
Alberto stares up at the ceiling, taking in his words, absent-mindedly toying with Luca’s fingers in his.
“You know, in bigger cities they have therapists. Could be good for you.”
A wave of nausea crashes through Alberto at the thought of taking his problems seriously instead of simply repressing them until they boil over and he burns everything to the ground.
But now he has something he doesn't ruin, someone who doesn’t run whenever he becomes difficult.
“Maybe,” he whispers, glancing over at Luca, feeling like his ribcage has cracked open to reveal his tender heart. “You’ll come with me, right?”
“Wherever you want, Beto.”