Chapter Text
Some nights Luca dreams of lighthouses.
They aren’t like the one he found Alberto in, exactly. These ones are spindly, stretching too high up to see, but he always climbs them anyway. There are no home-made ladders. Just mortar and crumbling bricks he digs his fingers into, hauling himself up step by step until his nails split and his fingers bleed black. Sometimes he falls. He laughs as he does, wind whistling in his ears so if he closes his eyes he can pretend he’s flying. The ground waits to catch him. It’s green and beautiful but its hands are not gentle and Luca keeps laughing even as he feels his spine shatter. On those nights he wakes up and reaches for Alberto. Alberto may be asleep, or he may be silently staring out at the horizon like he does sometimes. Either way he always reaches back - he doesn’t question Luca, never asks him what his dreams were, or his nightmares. Alberto knows them all, and can probably read them in Luca’s eyes when he pants and clings.
Four years. Maybe five since they both stopped counting, but either way it’s longer than Luca expected to survive. They’re two lonely kids with no money and no friends. They’d left the water hand in hand to see the world until they figured out the world wasn’t worth seeing. Humans are just another kind of animal. Selfish and cruel. Only really good as a resource so Luca does what he must and takes what he needs and turns it into a little game. Finds the rich ones, the lustful ones. The stupid, greedy ones who can be lured in with honeyed words and soft eyes and then left dumbfounded on the shore.
Luca’s good at picking targets. Alberto’d said, once, that Luca always could find the nasty ones. He was right. Luca’s never mistaken - he can always tell which humans are really bad on the inside. And unfortunately for them, of course, Luca is worse. He used to be a good kid, he thinks, but desperate times, and all that.
He’s in another bar. Some dinky little hole in the wall where the patrons probably wouldn’t be missed, sitting alone at a table outside with a whisky soda he’d sweet-talked the bartender into letting him have, all soft voice and big eyes. A glass of water, too, just as a precaution. Alberto’s skulking around the parking lot a block or two away, looking for anything that has four wheels and faulty locks.
The plan had been for Luca to see if he could find anyone who looked like they might’ve been carrying a little more in their pockets than they should for a night of simple drinking. He’s dressed conservatively, in small shorts and a shirt with an open collar to expose his throat, but he’s not attracting any eyes. He’s not too upset by this. Whenever Alberto is away, the idea of trying to steal is one that isn’t attractive, just in case things go wrong or the humans get too handsy. Luca’s not above defending himself if he needs to, but nothing feels right when Alberto isn’t around, even when he’s probably still within shouting distance.
Luca hopes he comes back soon. It’s quiet here and he’s anxious, not seeing much in the way of easy pickings. He sips his drink to calm his nerves, savouring the unpleasant smoke-sting-burn on his tongue. He’s removed the mask, the one that is sweet and open, with big eyes that watch people as they walk past with drinks or in couples. He’s very, very good at looking innocent, but this isn’t the place for that. Nobody seems worth reeling in so he’s been mainly ignored.
A young man slides into the seat opposite. Luca doesn’t look up from his drink, more interested in watching bubbles climb the side of his glass before popping. “I’m waiting for someone, handsome. Sorry.”
“Well they ain’t here yet, are they? I’m Andrea Russo.”
“Luca Scorfano,” Luca says after a moment, finally looking up. This one’s not ugly, he supposes, but he’s no Alberto. And the smugness ruins things somewhat - Russo seems soft, has probably never been told no in his life. “He won’t like you talking to me.”
“Don’t be like that.” He touches Luca’s hand, so sure he’ll get his way. His fingers are clammy, damp and unpleasant. Luca twitches. “I can change your mind. Let’s get out of here before your friend shows up.”
There are rings on his fingers. A good number of them, but the way they glitter makes Luca think it’s costume jewelry. No-one would wear a gemstone that big and obnoxious to a dive-bar. “I'm fine where I am, thanks. I'd like to be left alone."
The man snorts. “Hard to get? That's okay. Wouldn't be the first time."
"I am not interested. I have a... boyfriend,” Luca says, setting down his whisky. Surreptitiously, he dips his finger into his water and waits for the tingle of his blunt human fingernail sharpening into a claw. "Please go. I don't want to have to fight you. I'm going to count to three. One."
“Aw, come on. I just want to chat a little."
"Two."
"Cute thing like you shouldn't be all alone on a Saturd… why is your finger gree-”
“Three,” Luca sighs and slashes him across the face.
It’s just a little nick. More of a warning than anything, and the skin splits neatly with almost no resistance. Blood welling up in a delicate drop to seep slowly down his cheek Luca puts his finger in his mouth. Metallic. “Tell me again, Mister Russo. You want to get out of here, do you?”
Russo looks at Luca with wide eyes, disbelieving and afraid. Luca doesn’t mind the fear; it's safe, better them be afraid than him, despite the way he can feel himself shaking a little, just barely under control. He wishes for Alberto, wishes for him to come back. Screw the car, they’ll find an alleyway to hide in, or they can just sleep on the beach or under the waves, it doesn’t matter but he needs to come back, now , Alberto-
“Hey. You're bothering my partner. Go.”
Alberto’s hand is heavy on Luca’s shoulder and immediately he feels the nervous tension drain out of his body. He looks up, hand sneaking up to wrap around Alberto’s fingers, clinging and tight. His face is blank, eyebrows furrowed and a nerve twitching in his jaw that might or might not be for show. Luca can feel him growling. Low and menacing, probably not audible over the sound of the music coming from inside the bar, but his appearance seems to be enough to make Russo think twice. Alberto’s not the skinny and awkward child he used to be - he’s six feet tall and built like a brawler, all strong arms and broad shoulders. It’s clear just from looking at him that he’s had a rough life but it’s the scars all over him that send people running.
Cuts across his hands. One down his eyebrow, one just under the collar of his t-shirt. Crooked fingers from badly broken bones, tattoos up his arms to hide the worst of his marks. Hair cropped short on the sides and eyes like fire. The textbook definition of a bad-boy. Not the type of person who gets shoved around, which is fortunate - sometimes an unlucky human will decide to push Alberto a little too hard, and then they’ll find out the ugly way that the one with the violent, protective streak has always been Luca.
Ruuso blinks at them once more, mouth open like he’s going to say something before deciding that he’s probably courting something his simple brain can’t handle. He runs, hand still pressed to his bleeding cheek. He might go for help, he might not. No-one’s ever come after them. They’re just too unbelievable.
Alberto drops himself in the vacated seat and scoots around the table, close to Luca’s side before pressing a kiss to his mouth, comforting and reassuring. “You taste like pennies," he mutters against Luca’s lips. When he pulls back, he cups Luca’s cheek and runs his thumb across his bottom lip. The steel is fully gone from his gaze, leaving him looking concerned and gentle. The real Alberto. “You okay? Did he hurt you?”
Luca shakes his head. Alberto stays obligingly still to let Luca bury his face in his neck and breathe him in, hand curling in the soft material of his shirt. They’ve barely been apart for thirty minutes but it’s the longest they’ve not been together for about two weeks. "I'm okay. He wouldn't leave me alone so I scratched him."
"Good."
"Maybe we should give up for the night. We can camp out somewhere, yeah? I'm starting to hate this town."
"We won't stay for much longer," Alberto promises and squeezes him, arm firm around his waist. Someone whistles. Luca shouts back something truly disgusting over Alberto's shoulder, making him shake his head and huff out a small laugh. "Come on. Come see what I found. I think you’ll like it.”
Alberto offers his hand and Luca takes it, calloused and warm in his own. It always has been; Luca had been awestruck the first time they’d met, floundering and gasping on a beach above the waves as this boy had stared at him, supremely unimpressed. All his life in cool blue, and then Alberto had taken his hand in some silly greeting that he couldn’t explain and it felt like he was burning. Luca thought it was just from the sun at first. But he’s touched human skin since then and found the heat just comes from Alberto.
Alberto finishes Luca’s whiskey before dragging him away from the bar, stealing another kiss the second they're out of sight and not likely to be heckled again. He tastes like smoke, but layered, not just from the drink. Ashy. Luca raises an eyebrow as they walk hand in hand, a small smirk on his face. "You've been smoking, haven't you?"
Alberto looks over his shoulder at him, sheepish. “Stealing makes me nervous. I had gum after. Sorry, I know it bothers you."
"You're lucky you're good-looking," Luca says, smirk growing wider as Alberto points across the street to the parking lot. "Good job, sweetheart. You know, you can have another if you want. I won't lecture you."
"You don't like the smell."
"No, but I like watching."
Alberto smiles; a crooked, cocky one that Luca fell in love with years ago. "Maybe when we start driving, if it’s okay. I’ll roll the window down and stuff."
“That’s kind of you,” Luca deadpans.
Alberto knocks into his side and then wraps his arm around his shoulders, kissing his temple. A group of humans come out of a nearby building. They’re dressed to the nines and clearly about to hit the town. Alberto nudges Luca into an alleyway as they pass it, out from under the streetlights and out of sight. He presses Luca to the wall, putting himself between Luca and the group as they wander past, voices loud and already drunk.
“Do you...Do you want to follow them? See if we can get anything?” he asks quietly, eyes glowing slightly in the dark. They’re otherworldly and frightening to some but beautiful to Luca.
Luca thinks for a moment, fingers pushed through Alberto’s belt-loops as he hums thoughtfully. They should; they don’t have a lot of money left in Alberto’s backpack and if they’ve got a car again then they’re going to need fuel… but there's a man running around with Luca’s claw-mark on his face so he shakes his head. "I don’t think so... we’ve drawn enough attention here.” Luca pulls slightly at Alberto’s jeans to get his attention back. “I wanna get on the road and see where we end up. I saw a map a while ago and I think there might be a harbour in the next town over. You can take me on a date?” He leans up and presses his mouth to Alberto’s jaw, smiling into his skin. “Make it good and I'll get you a present."
“Demanding little thing.” Alberto leans out of the mouth of the alleyway and checks the road is empty before dragging Luca towards the parking lot, jogging a little to get there faster. Luca giggles, already feeling his heart begin to race with excitement and no small amount of fear.
“Oh? You don’t want a present, then?”
“Didn’t say that.” Alberto glances around and points out an old Volkswagen. It’s one of those huge campervans that always look more convenient than they are, its colour a mystery in the low evening light. For them it's a lucky break, though; big enough to stretch out in and somewhere comfy to hide, even if it is scuffed up and likely to guzzle petrol more than the old Benz they'd had last. They'd driven that thing into the ground, pushing and pushing until the engine gave out so badly that even Alberto couldn't fix it and they'd had to abandon it by the side of the road.
Alberto guides Luca into a patch of shadow to hide him before giving his hand a squeeze and squaring his shoulders. "Act natural. I'll get the thing open."
Luca waits. With his jacket looking inky black under the dim streetlight, Alberto sets his shoulder against the door of the van and pushes. Luca guesses he was part-way through jimmying the lock before he’d come to his aid at the bar, utilising that weird sixth sense of his that always seemed to alert him to Luca’s own distress. The mechanism in the door pops loudly and the side-door dents a little. Alberto slots his fingers under the handle and pulls, grinning as the door pulls open. The model only seems to be a year or two old, but it’s absolutely battered and doesn’t seem to have an actual alarm so that’s one less thing to have to worry about. Alberto pushes his wire-cutters deeper into his back pocket and beckons Luca closer.
Luca scrambles in through the passenger door, slips across the front seats and lifts the lock for the driver’s side to let Alberto in as he rounds the front of the van. It’s not the kind of sleek sports car Alberto likes to lust over, but those attract too much attention. Pickings are usually slim mid-week regardless, with all the nicer cars safely at home where people like them can’t get to them. He bounces in his seat nervously, finger in his mouth as he worries his nail between his teeth. Alberto slides into the driver's side, quick and confident in a way he sometimes isn’t anywhere else. He hands Luca their backpacks before ducking under the steering wheel, muttering quietly to himself as he attempts to bully the car into starting. Luca doesn't really understand what he does to hot-wire all the cars they've stolen but he trusts him. Alberto always gets the job done.
“I'll get this thing started in a second,” Alberto says. “Shit, this feels weird. Being back in Italy, I mean.”
Luca hums in agreement as he stows their meager belongings in the footwell of the van. He rolls down the window and wipes a layer of dust off the side mirror so Alberto will be able to see when they get going. “A little. But we’ve not been here in a good year. I think they’ve forgotten us by now, don’t you?”
“I hope so. I was getting really tired of hearing about all those ‘freak shark attacks’.”
“Better than freak sea monster attacks, I guess,” Luca answers, tucking his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on them as he looks around the cabin of the van. He inspects their new (though more than likely temporary) home - the front bench is wide and long, a small dent in the centre for the gear stick but more than sizable enough for them to comfortably sleep on it even though Alberto will probably still have to curl a little. Luca nervously looks over his shoulder and his eyes widen. “Alberto, look! There’s a bed back here!”
“Huh?” Alberto looks up from under the dashboard, screwdriver in hand. He looks over and grins at Luca. “I think it folds up into seats, but it’s not like we need that, huh? Could use the space underneath as storage though, if we fill the trunk area…” he drawls off, chewing his lip for a second before scrunching back under the steering wheel, grumbling quietly as he pops the key-hole out and jams the screwdriver in. He guns the engine a few times before the van comes to life, headlights bright for a moment before Alberto flicks them off. His grin is wide as he reaches up to adjust the rear-view mirror and fiddles with the gear-stick, checking that everything works as it should.
He's done such a good job tonight. He always does, always bending over backwards to give Luca whatever he needs, whatever they need to keep them both safe. Luca watches him as he checks the fuel, cigarette behind his ear for safekeeping in case he wants another and the most beautiful man Luca’s ever seen. He crawls across the seats on his hands and knees before taking Alberto by the chin and turning his face towards him to kiss him softly, humming before pulling slightly to get him to open his mouth. Alberto groans, turning his body into Luca as he puts his hand to the back of Luca’s neck and holds him close, palm hot and trembling.
Luca pulls away and tilts his head back, exposing the pale skin of his throat as his eyes go half-lidded. He licks his lips and Alberto watches him with dark eyes, his attention completely fixed on Luca’s face, as it should be. "Alberto?"
"Yeah?"
"Will you take me away?" He reaches out and runs his fingers down the centre of Alberto’s chest. "We'll find a quiet spot somewhere tonight, just for us. Maybe we can test that bed out in the back, hmm?"
“That sounds amazing, Luca,” Alberto whispers, soft and happy as he nods. He pulls Luca in for another kiss, chaste and innocent, before pressing their foreheads together.
It’s only ever good like this when they’re together. When they’re shut away and hidden, where humans or sea-monsters or anyone who would try to hurt them can’t find them. It makes Luca flinty and angry when he thinks about how hard they have to try to keep the wolves at bay in order to feel peace.
The street lights shine dimly through the windshield. Luca holds Alberto's gaze. Someone starts shouting far away, and Luca bites his lip and laughs, high and a little frightened. He’s always frightened when they stop moving. "Oops. Time to go?"
“Time to go,” Alberto agrees, grin turning sharp like broken glass as he shifts in his seat and puts the car in gear. The engine doesn’t roar so much as it chokes sadly, and Alberto tuts before putting the car in reverse and pulling out of the space. He looks over his shoulder and catches the beam of a torch directly in his face. “Awh, shit.”
“‘Beto, just go,” Luca says quickly as the light flashes over his own face and he ducks down; their eyes reflect the light back, he’s seen it when he’s looked at Alberto in fear one too many times when they’ve been in similar situations; running away like the criminals they were forced to become.
Alberto blinks before turning back and putting his foot down. The van starts moving slowly, and Luca’s heart hammers in his throat as he hears the shouts. Could be the owner of the V.W, could be Andrea Rossi coming after them with police in tow, or could be just a random passerby who saw them stealing a vehicle.
“C’mon, fucking c’mon baby, just a little faster, c’mon-” Alberto mutters under his breath to the van, hands tight around the steering wheel as his legs bounce up and down. Luca shuffles across the bench and sits as close to him as he can without getting into his lap, hand on his thigh. Alberto grips his fingers tightly as they turn onto the road before setting the van into a higher gear and they start to pick up speed. The sounds of their pursuers gets quieter and quieter, and it would seem Alberto remembers this town from the last time they were here as he seems to take all the right roads that lead them out into the countryside and away from the lights that would expose them. He drives with the headlights off anyway; they have pretty good night-vision, so it’s not like he needs them to see.
“...Fuck, Alberto,” Luca sighs shakily, tipping into his partner’s side. Alberto takes his hand off the steering wheel and puts it around Luca’s waist, hugging him close.
“Yep. God, this thing’s so slow.” He laughs, but it sounds a little hollow. “I think there used to be an orchard around here. Might be worth seeing if we can get into it, laying low for a couple hours. You need to sleep, Luca.”
“Mmmm. Maybe.” Luca remembers, he thinks; they’d spent a good couple of years in Italy after the dream faded and they saw what the world was truly like, going up and down the boot of a country and picking up the skills needed for their survival surrounded by familiar waters before adventuring into Europe. They needn’t have worried; humans were the same everywhere, they just sounded different. They were still mean and hateful, double-crossing and untrustworthy, and it got even worse after Luca realised that the boy in the seat next to him, rubbing his arm with gentle fingers was his soulmate, his heart in another body and his reason for living.
Then humans became a threat, and that feeling never truly went away.
The van's engine groans a little. Alberto grumbles under his breath. "Come on. I'm still mourning the Benz, don't go making me lose another one."
“We’ll steal another one, if we have to.” They aren't being followed. Luca takes a deep breath - the winding road stretches out ahead of them, connecting them to anywhere in the world they want to go. His heartbeat slows. They're safe when they're on the move and he has Alberto. They won't die yet.
Sighing a sigh of relief, he tilts his face up to press a kiss to the underside of Alberto’s jaw. Alberto reaches over and squeezes his thigh. Always unflappable, always in control. Luca loves him with a passionate heat that will engulf them both one day, but it’s not likely to be this night so he looks over his shoulder once more to make sure the road they’re on is completely empty before pointing left. Alberto jerks the wheel and drives up an embankment and into a field, overrun and likely not being used for planting.
Luca sees the glitter of the ocean through the trees as they head for it, Alberto neatly dodging a low-hanging olive tree before breaking out onto what looks like a pretty severe drop-off. Alberto brings the van to a stop. He's barely put the handbrake on before Luca is scrambling across the seat and into his lap, arms around his neck and mouth insistent against his own.
“You’re shaking.” Alberto’s words are quiet against Luca’s mouth as he moves him to sit more comfortably across his thighs despite the fact that the van is more than big enough for them to spread out. “…Sweetheart. It’s okay. We got away, it’s alright. I’ve got you.”
"I know you do." And he means it, too. There are a lot of things in their lives that are uncertain but this is the one fact that keeps Luca waking up every morning. He kisses Alberto again, slower and deeper. "Tomorrow we'll disappear. Tonight we can hide."
Alberto hums in agreement, smoothing his hands down Luca’s sides to rest on his hips, nipping at his lower lip to make him gasp. “What do you think?” he mutters against his mouth as he reaches for Luca’s belt, pulling it free and placing it on the dashboard in easy reach, just in case. "This was a pretty good night, yeah? All things considered. We got ourselves a moving bed. Are you a little happier, Luca?"
“ So happy,” Luca laughs with a roll of his eyes as Alberto squeezes him tight and makes him squeak. Half past midnight and he’s finally coming awake; his heart’s thumping in his chest, body already stirring in his little shorts, deliciously trapped against his zipper. He kisses Alberto with the barest hint of teeth. Always with teeth, when they do this, when they’ve done something bad and Luca's still full of adrenaline and feels like they’re going to set fire to the world.
Alberto’s hands are rough and calloused as they run up his waist. Luca arches back so he can be touched. He loves Alberto’s hands. Loves how brutal they are, but always soft with him, loves their scuffed knuckles and crooked fingers from when he’d broken them in fights. He’s loved them ever since they first pulled him out of the water and loves them more now they’re roaming up his chest and slipping under his shirt.
“My ‘Beto,” Luca breathes. Alberto presses kisses all along his throat. “My Alberto, my favourite in the whole world. You’re the only good thing on earth- four years- god, five?- on land and you’re still the best thing I’ve ever found, the only thing I’ve ever wanted to keep-”
“I don’t know. Coffee’s pretty good,” Alberto grumbles against Luca’s adam’s apple, his smile evident and teeth sharp as he nips at the skin, giggling stupidly as Luca jumps in his arms. “So’s those little almond biscuit things-”
“Let me wax poetic about you, you bastard,” Luca says, lifting his arms for Alberto to tug his shirt off and drop it in the footwell. Alberto presses another bite to his shoulder, this time harder. Luca imagines those terrible, sharp teeth bearing down properly, severing the artery and ripping his throat out of his neck.
Alberto could. Would never hurt Luca but he’s a wild thing when he’s backed into a corner and scared for Luca’s safety, and Luca’s favourite thing about himself is the perfect ring of old bite-shaped scars on his shoulder from very early on in their relationship, pressed into his shoulder by his partner’s natural teeth, bonding them for better or worse. For a delirious second Luca mourns that the van doesn’t have a proper hood they could lie down on - he’d love to feel the burn of the engine under the hood, grass and dirt under his bare feet. There’s no one around for miles. All alone at the edge of the world, and even if they did have an audience Luca thinks he’d be happy to put on a show. The world is huge and empty. They own all of it, the crescent moon and glittering water and the big, clunky car that might just die on them in a week.
But he can do better than that. They have a bed. His fingers tangle themselves in Alberto’s hair. With the other hand he paws at the door handle, shoving it open and yanking Alberto’s head up for another clumsy, desperate kiss. “Let’s go break this thing in.”
Alberto grins and lifts Luca bodily out of the front seat. Luca clings to him- so strong, he could kill me, we could shatter each other and it would be like watching a star collapse. His fingers are still in Alberto’s hair. Luca would do anything for this man. Luca would kill for him, would turn around and fall off this cliff together if Alberto wanted a thrill.
“Alberto.”
Alberto slams the driver’s door behind them and opens the back. “Hmm?”
Luca presses their foreheads together. “Come make me yours. Take me home.”
Alberto swallows around a small, broken sound as he lowers Luca gently onto the stolen mattress, onto sheets that don’t smell like them that they don’t own. He keeps the doors open, moonlight streaming in and lighting him up from behind.
“Always.”
“We should just… go. Run away.”
Luca blinks tears out of his eyes, fat and pearlescent on his cheeks under the moonlight. Alberto has his arm around him, hugging him to his side to try and offer comfort but Luca is too tightly wound for it to make any difference.
This is the first friend he’s made. The first person to see him, to pull him out of his quiet and lonely life, and now Luca’s being taken away.
Alberto knocks his head against Luca’s as he sniffles, clumsily wiping at his eyes but missing big patches of green on his cheeks. Luca looks up at him with red-rimmed eyes, confused. “What...what are you saying?”
“I’m saying we should go. Like we planned, right? We’ll go to the town, get a vespa and just… just go.”
He sounds about as crazy and desperate as Luca feels. Luca knows well enough at thirteen years old that someone like Alberto comes along once in a lifetime; someone who is fun, exciting, kind. Someone who gets him, who understands his need to see the world and wants to go as well, someone who knows that the deep is a death sentence for Luca. That it will kill him in all the ways that matter; his mind, his heart.
Luca will be alone, and he’ll lose himself in the deep. But if he can be brave, if he can do this -
“Luca…?”
It's not a bad idea.
Luca has two choices. He can go to the bottom of the ocean where there's nothing to do and no one to see except his strange uncle. Ugo probably isn't a bad person; Luca will be safe there, he's sure, but he'll also be alone and desolate, mind wasting away in pitch black, high-pressure water. Like being trapped underground. A piece of dust floating around and only keeping track of time so he knows when he can be free.
Or. Or. He can go see the world with his best friend. He's only known Alberto a few weeks but he already knows they're the perfect team, and maybe humans are scary and foreign but Alberto's survived out here for ages . They can explore something new every day. Maybe there will be nice humans who don't mind that Luca came from the sea, and then someday, when they're older, Luca can come back and tell his parents that there was nothing to worry about.
Alberto reaches over to brush a tear off his face. Luca looks up. He's stopped crying, mind slowly turning over possibilities. Either way he's getting sent away from his home. His parents have decided they don't want him there anymore, so maybe - maybe Luca may as well take the option that makes his heart happy, instead of heavy with dread.
"We don't have to go forever," he says quietly. "We can come back someday and visit my parents and your dad, and until then if we're really careful then we'll be okay. It'll be like camping, right? You camp all the time."
"Luca-"
"You're right ," Luca says, grabbing both of Alberto's hands in his. They feel calloused and strong. "Let's just go! If we talk to Signore Vespa we can go anywhere in the whole world . There has to be a place out there for us. We just need to find it! We'll do it together!"
“...Okay. Yeah, okay!” Alberto grins widely, jumping up and down and swinging Luca around recklessly. Luca beams, knowing he’s made the right choice. “Okay, okay. So when? Do we need to plan anything? Do you-” Alberto stops and swallows. He squeezes Luca’s hand. “Do you wanna go say goodbye or anything? See them again before we go?”
He should. Really, he shouldn't be entertaining this idea at all. He's always been a good kid and he knows it's going to break his parents' heart, especially if he just disappears, but it’s not worth the risk of how they might react. "They won't let me go if they catch me leaving," he says haltingly. "But I think… Do you have a spare piece of paper? I'm going to write them a note."
"Sure. Sit tight, I'll find where I put all my pencils."
Luca lies on his stomach on the floor, paper barely illuminated by the flickering lamp Alberto holds. Alberto sits next to him. His knee presses gently into Luca’s side. It's a small comfort as he writes and rewrites his note, growing a little pile of discarded paper next to him until he settles on something simple and clear. Matter-of-fact, because he's too keyed-up and restless to be anything else. He puts down the pencil and gives it to Alberto for approval. Alberto nods. "Do you want me to come with you?"
"No," Luca says, clutching it with both hands. "No. I think this part is something I should do on my own."
It's pretty short, for a final goodbye.
Dear everyone,
You won't see me again, not for a while. I'm sorry. I don't want to go to the bottom of the ocean. I just can't. I know you're trying to protect me, but if the only choice is to send me away to somewhere horrible then I think I may as well be dead. So I'm going to explore the surface with Alberto. You know it really isn't so bad up here! One day I'll show you how nice people can be and you'll understand why I'm doing this.
I still love you. But you can't keep me trapped forever.
Goodbye. I hope I can see you again soon.
P.S. The sky is beautiful from above the water. Maybe you can come up here to look at it sometime if you ever miss me. I don't know if you will. I'll miss you, though. Lots and lots. I'll tell you all about the surface when I get back.
Carefully, he rolls it up and slips it into a glass bottle they pilfer from Alberto's stash. The underwater village is still when he gets back. Silently, Luca creeps around the shed and through his bedroom window, leaving his goodbye on his pillow while his grandmother sleeps.
The bottle glints sadly in what little moonlight reaches Luca’s old home. And if they want to read it, well. Then they'll have to come to the surface to do it.
When he comes back Alberto is waiting right where Luca left him. The lights of the small town glimmer on the water, and he takes a deep breath. Alberto pulls him from the surf and leads him to the other side of the island, the side that faces the human settlement across the water. Their fingers lace together, tight and afraid. “You know we can always come back,” Alberto says, watching him. “If anything at all scares you. We can run.”
“Not back here. My parents won’t let me leave ever again.”
“Guess not. Well, we’ll figure it out as we go. Come on. I’ll show you the way.”
They swim close to the surface, not as showy or excited as they usually like to swim together; he already feels like a fugitive, even though there’s no-one looking for him just yet . The swim isn’t an especially long one, and they slip out of the water after checking the coast is clear. Alberto shakes himself, allows Luca to do the same, and leads the way into the town.
It’s late, though not so late that there’s no-one around. Some grown-ups are dotted around a large fountain and music plays from one of the small restaurants. Luca fists a hand into the back of Alberto’s shirt. Alberto looks back and gives him a smile. “Breathe. It’s gonna be okay. I’m not one-hundred percent sure where we should go from here, but at least we’ve started, right?”
"Yeah," Luca mumbles, clutching Alberto like a lifeline. He's abruptly grateful Alberto is here; if he'd been sneaking to the surface by himself then he would never have been brave enough to step foot in the human town, instead resigning himself to be banished to the abyss. But Alberto is here. Warm and solid and comfortingly keeping ahead of him, shielding him from the strange people who look their way. There are so many of them. All gathered together and making noise, drinking deep red stuff out of glasses that clink when they touch. Still, it's fascinating. The buildings are colourful and vibrant even in the dark, with statues and paintings and signs with fancy lettering saying what each building is for. A lot of the statues involve killing fish. Luca plasters himself to Alberto, hand tightening in the material of his shirt. "You know, maybe this place is a little crowded."
"Silenzio Bruno," Alberto reminds him. "We just need to find Signore Vespa and we can get out of here."
Luca swallows and nods, feeling very small and unwilling to let Alberto go as they edge carefully around the square, eyes wide and a little scared even though it’s so interesting. There’s so much noise ; the ocean is mostly quiet besides the odd sounds of fish and the people in his village, but Luca’s never seen this, the light and music and laughter everywhere. It feels alive , and it makes Luca feel the same way.
“Where do you think we should look first?” Luca asks as they stand together, startled as a pair of adults walk past them, ignoring them completely. “I don’t even know where Signore Vespa lives , or if he even lives in this town… what if we can’t find him?”
“Don’t worry, we’ll find someone ,” Alberto promises, squeezing his fingers tightly. “We will. I know it.”
"I guess," Luca says, despite his misgivings. "But just in case, maybe we should, like, come up with code names or something in case we need to stay undercover, and we - oh my god. Alberto, look."
He swivels around, dragging Alberto with him, and points. There's a whole line of Vespas out on the street. All different colours, looking sleek and fast and perfect . "Look at the yellow one!" he whisper-shouts, shaking Alberto's arm. "And the blue one, that says - it has a tag! It says Ninety. Do you think that's its name or something? Maybe this is where Signore Vespa lives!"
Alberto lights up, drumming against Luca’s chest in excitement. Luca bounces on his heels. “Dude! Maybe they make them here! Maybe we can ask them to make us one too?”
“Maybe!” Luca grins as Alberto drags him closer. They look so much better than the picture back in the lighthouse, shining and perfect and in every colour. He’s never seen anything so beautiful, so perfect, and his fingers itch as he goes to touch the paintwork.
“Hey! You shouldn’t touch things that aren’t yours, ragazzi.”
Luca pulls his hand back like he’s been burnt, staggering a little as Alberto quickly pushes him back and takes a half-step in front of him. A man - a human man - is watching them from a table nearby, a yellow-orange drink in his hand as he rests his chin in his palm. He looks more curious than angry but Luca freezes regardless. He pulls at Alberto’s shirt, ready to run, but the human stands up and holds his hand out.
“Now now, don’t be afraid. They’re beautiful, right?”
“Y-yes! I’m sorry, sir, I just… I just wanted to look,” Luca squeaks, voice pitchy and frightened. The human’s eyes soften a little more as he comes closer and kneels in front of them, wavering a little. He doesn’t try and grab them or chase them away.
Alberto stands up taller. “We want one. Can you tell us how?” he says, sounding confident and strong.
The man laughs and shakes his head. The sound isn’t mean, but it still makes Luca’s skin tickle. “Well, you’ll need a fair amount of lira and a couple more years, my friend. I think you’re too young to be riding a bike, don’t you?”
“I.. but we…” Alberto stammers, confused. He looks between the vespas and the man, slightly deflated. “Do you have one? How did you get it?”
“I paid for it, silly.” The man stands back up and gestures to the blue vespa on the end. “This one is mine, my pride and joy! Come, you can look and I will let you touch, but I am nice. Other people might not like it so much if you touch their expensive things, correct?”
“Of course. We’re sorry.” Alberto steps away and approaches the vespa with the man, leaving Luca to stand alone, arms hugging himself with a mix of apprehension and excitement. “Can you, uhm. Can you tell me how it works? I’ve only ever seen pictures.”
“Only pictures! Have you been living under a rock all your years, boy?” The man laughs and pats Alberto on the shoulder. “Come, let me tell you all about her. Machines are girls, no? Because they are beautiful and we love them, ha!”
Luca tilts his head. He’s been living in a cave, technically, but he comes closer anyway, nervous but fluttery because the man lets Alberto sit on his vespa. He even explains how the thing works - it runs with a key that turns on an engine, and then you use the handlebars to steer it around and make it go fast or slow. Alberto takes all of this in like a natural. The nice man laughs and asks if he’s only pretending to understand, but Alberto repeats everything perfectly and Luca’s so proud of him he could burst.
The man’s friends wander over halfway through, all drinking the foamy yellow stuff that one of them lets them try but Luca instantly hates. It’s bitter and bubbly. Alberto makes a face but takes another sip anyway, which makes their new friends laugh so loud it echoes around the town square.
“If you have an interest, here-” The man shoos Alberto off the seat once his laughter has died down and lifts it up. There’s a bag inside, and he rifles around inside it before pulling out a faded magazine and presses it into Alberto’s hand. “This will tell you more than I wish to. A gift, from one lover of the vespa to another, yes? Do not worry," he waves Alberto off as he stammers his thanks. “It is old and I don’t need it. But there are diagrams inside of the engine and how to keep one running. Something to familiarise yourself with until you are grown and rich!”
They’re sent away long after the moon has reached its zenith. Luca’s buzzing, hand in Alberto’s as they wander around looking for a deserted spot to spend the night. They end up under a tree that drops sweet fruit, its roots a comfy enough place to curl up. “This is perfect,” Luca gushes, kicking his feet with joy. “Oh my god, you were so right! Now all we have to do is get some money and we can buy ourselves a vespa and go anywhere and I’ll never have to live with Uncle Ugo. We can get some money first thing tomorrow!”
Alberto beams, already flipping through his magazine, squinting in the weak moonlight. “We’re gonna be fine, Luca. I can feel it. You should get some sleep, okay?”
“What about you?”
“I’ll keep watch. Nothing’s gonna happen, but I’ll stay up just in case.”
“Then I will too. Quick, show me the book!”
The morning sun rises and they’re shooed away from the tree by a farmer with a fuzzy four-legged thing that licks Luca’s hand and almost turns it green (it’s a dog, Alberto tells him as they run away laughing). He’s never stayed up the whole night before. The Piazza looks inviting in the daytime, full of kids playing and people doing mysterious human tasks. Luca wonders if they can stay here a while and make some friends. He almost says hello to a small girl, but he’s drowned out by a loud rumble and the most beautiful, shiny red vespa he’s ever seen.
The rider and the bike circle the piazza, both of them loud and obnoxious, but Luca gets it; he’d probably be like that as well if he had a vespa that was so nice. Alberto watches it with a gleam in his eye, longing and desperate as he curls his hand around the magazine they were gifted and crinkles the pages.
This is it. This is going to be the point where their lives change. Luca can feel it as he drags Alberto forward, eager to introduce himself and hopefully get some more information on how to obtain such an amazing ride.
(At seventeen, Luca will look back on this moment and hate how correct he actually was.)
The rider - Ercole, he had sneered at them as they approached - is nowhere near as nice as the man from the night before. He teases, he pokes fun. He says horrible things about Luca that make Alberto angry, finger pointed in the older boy’s face and teeth bared.
Yes, their clothes are dirty. Yes, they’re threadbare and old. No, they don’t understand that he’s apparently a big deal in this town. It probably would’ve been fine though, if Luca hadn’t kicked a ball back for a group of little kids and almost knocked the vespa over, saved only at the last minute by one of Ercole’s friends.
It goes from uncomfortable to terrifying in seconds. Alberto is held back and Luca is frog-marched to the fountain in the centre of the square, all eyes on him as Ercole fists his hand in the back of his shirt and pushes Luca face-first into the water. Luca doesn’t hear the shriek of terror as he’s released immediately. He understands that it happened, though. When he surfaces the square is dead silent. He shakes himself quickly, trying to hide his scales, but it doesn’t matter. It’s too late.
Ercole points at him and screams. “Monster! Sea monster! A harpoon, get me a harpoon!”
Luca doesn’t make a noise, too frozen in terror to even move as Ercole grabs him once more and begins dragging him away. Luca spots Alberto, pushing and pulling at the kids that hold him, desperate to get out of their grip. They don't let go. He growls, loud and alien, and is immediately released to bolt across the stones towards Luca with his fist pulled back. “Let him go!”
Ercole spins, hand outstretched with something silver and shining poking out between his fingers. He back-hands Alberto across the face. Alberto grabs at him to stop himself from falling, snatching at his hand, but it’s not enough and he goes sprawling. Ercole’s face lights up with a terrible joy. Luca finally finds his voice, clicking and wailing as he rears back and sinks his teeth into the back of the hand that holds him.
Ercole shrieks. Other people shriek. Alberto stands up from the ground, one eye closed against the blood that trickles down his face, and Luca panics. He runs, head lowered and shoulders tight, grabs Alberto around the arm, and heads for the water.
There’s a whistling noise and a thunk as a harpoon buries itself in the ground next to their feet. Alberto gasps, sharp and pained, but Luca doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop running until he’s thigh-deep in the water and dives , pulling Alberto in with him.
God , he can taste Alberto’s blood in the water. He whimpers, fighting back tears as he takes a sharp left and swims further up the coast, away from home but away from the village. They're heading out into unknown waters but even that is better than where they’ve come from and where they’ve been.
Alberto is hurt. Alberto is bleeding. Ercole’s attack made them lose the fucking book.
Luca pants as he finally comes to a stop, limbs and tail trembling with exhaustion as he finally turns and looks at Alberto. He reaches up to put his hands on Alberto’s face, trilling softly and lip trembling because it’s all gone so wrong already.
“Alberto? ‘Beto, look at me, please look at me, let me see-” he mumbles, tipping Alberto’s head up. Alberto’s eyes are glassy and distant. There’s a deep cut on his face, above his eye like he’s been sliced with a knife, and Luca presses his thumb to it. Alberto winces, hugging his arm across his chest.
Luca sobs, loud and broken. There’s a cut on his arm as well. The harpoon got him.
"Luca. Are you okay?" Alberto takes a while to find his voice, but when he does it’s flat and papery, wispy at the edges like a stalk of old kelp.
Luca sniffles. He's crying, he knows he is, but the saltwater floats his tears away and carries them off where Luca can't feel them. "Oh my god. Oh, Alberto, he got your face. How did he - your poor face, he almost got your eye."
Alberto takes a shuddering breath, still not looking at Luca as he wavers back and forth, almost like he’s rocking. "Everyone saw us. They won't let us back in town. They'll kill us if they find us again."
Luca throws his arms around Alberto’s neck, wrapping himself around Alberto despite being smaller and trying far too late to shield him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Alberto, I'm so sorry. If I hadn't talked to him, if I hadn't kicked that stupid ball, he wouldn't have known. You should - you shouldn't have tried to help me. Maybe they would have left you alone. You should have run, you should have left me there."
Slowly, Alberto's hands come up to hug Luca back as he pushes his face into Luca’s neck, right where his shoulder meets. "I wasn't going to leave you."
"I should never have made you come with me. I should have just gone to the deep and left you alone."
"No.” Alberto’s arms tighten even more as he sniffs once, hard against Luca’s scales. He feels a warm jet of water, shaky as Alberto breathes out. “No, don't go."
Luca curls their tails together, clinging and desperate. "How could he hurt you? The humans were so nice to us last night."
"They didn't know we were monsters." Alberto’s voice wobbles, like he's trying to put on a brave face but wants to cry too. "It's okay. It's okay, Luca. He didn't hurt me that bad."
"The water is red, Alberto."
"Just give it a minute." He winces, pulling away just enough to gingerly prod at his own face. He looks at his hand and pauses. "Oh. That's how he cut me."
"Huh?"
"Keys," Alberto says, dropping them. They float to the floor of the tiny cave they've found themselves in. "Must have grabbed them by accident. But are you - are you hurt? You didn't answer me."
"I'm okay, Alberto. Let me see your arm."
"It's just a cut."
"He threw a harpoon at you!"
Alberto shrugs, smile crooked and not reaching his eyes. "It wouldn't be the first time. Humans can be nasty. At least he missed."
Luca’s heart breaks. He cries, clinging to Alberto all alone in their cave, and keeps crying until the sun goes down and the water gets dark and chilly around them. Alberto clings back. The red clouds slowly stop coming off his wounds unless he scratches them or moves too quickly. They look jarring and mean against the sweet blue of his scales, and Luca doesn’t miss the stiff way Alberto holds his arm even though he tries to act casual. For a terrible moment Luca wonders if their adventure will end here. Before it's started, with an entire town of humans who hate them. Who hate Alberto. For no reason other than because he's different and he tried to step in when Luca was in trouble.
Ercole's key sits innocuously in the sand. Luca, curled up by his best friend's side, feels the very outside edge of his heart harden to metal. He swims away from Alberto’s warmth and picks them up, holding the keys loosely in his hand as his brain starts to warm over. "We're getting that Vespa, Alberto. I'll fix this. We're getting out of here."
“What?” Alberto answers sleepily. He rubs his eye with a closed fist and winces. Luca shushes him softly, passing his claws through Alberto’s fins and trying to give him an encouraging smile, despite feeling cold and hard.
“The vespa. Ercole’s vespa. We have the keys. We’re taking it.”
“Luca…?” Alberto sits up and wraps his tail around himself, looking small and sad. “That’s stealing. We can’t…”
"Yes, we can. After what he did to you, this is payback."
“I’m fine.”
“I’m not. He hurt you, and I’m angry about it.” Luca presses their snouts together, making Alberto meet his eyes. “We’re taking that vespa. Now come on. It’s dark out, this is our best chance. You think you can drive it?”
“I...I think so, yeah.”
“Good. That’s good.” Luca pulls Alberto up from his low position on the ground and tries to rub warmth and alertness into his limbs but his mind is already working away; how best to hide, how best to sneak. He remembers the direction Ercole came from so maybe that’s his house? Either way, they’ll find it. Luca won’t stop until they find it.
“Let’s go.”
When Luca wakes up, he’s naked and alone.
He’s sore, but pleasantly so as he slowly sits up and orientates himself. The mattress beneath him isn’t too uncomfortable (he’s certainly slept on worse), and the blankets and sheets are a little scratchy but it’s fine. When they close the doors and go to sleep, he’ll wake up to the scent of a storm, and that will be enough. He looks around.
The back doors of the van are wide open and Alberto is sitting on the edge with one of his legs drawn up, watching the moon and smoking. He’s put his underwear back on but other than that he’s nude, all golden skin and white scars. Luca crawls behind him and slips his arms around his middle, resting his cheek between his shoulder-blades. Alberto sighs out a plume of smoke as one hand touches Luca’s arms, thumb gentle against his wrist.
“Hey. Can’t sleep?” Alberto says softly. Luca hums, low and sleepy.
“Never can without you. Are you coming back?”
“Just a sec, I’m nearly done.” Luca waits, curled against his partner’s back as Alberto finishes his cigarette and flicks the butt into the night. He stays still for a few moments, thumb rubbing back and forth across the back of Luca’s hand. “Did you dream?”
“A little.”
“What of?”
“...Portorosso.”
“Ah.” Alberto carefully untangles Luca’s arms from his waist and clambers back into the van as he swings the doors shut, closing them in darkness. The little windows have curtains on them, so Luca reaches up and twitches them shut, closing them in a private space all for them as he reaches for Alberto and pulls him close, wrapping the stolen sheets around them. He runs his hands through Alberto’s hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
“How come you couldn’t sleep, handsome?” Luca asks, back arching a little as Alberto strokes up and down his spine. He purrs quietly, legs tangling together as his partner nuzzles at his neck, scenting him and making Luca feel calm and settled.
"Just thinking about tomorrow. Planning our route. And, uh," he says, letting Luca hug his head to his chest. "About us hunting. Or you, hunting, I guess. I hate waiting for you to get back."
"You won't be far."
"Not close enough, though."
Luca sighs through his nose, understanding exactly what Alberto means. "It's the fastest way to get paid. And we'll be able to get a motel, maybe, when we get to town. This van is great but we need somewhere with running water and a laundrette. And we can only keep doing stuff like that if we keep getting money, yeah?"
"I guess."
"I'll be okay. How could I ever not be, when you're here?"
"But-"
Luca shushes him. "Hey. I've done this a hundred times before. You don't trust my big brain? My acting skills?"
Alberto huffs, exasperated but fond. "I do, stupid. I just worry about you."
"Well, don't."
"Don't be an idiot. You know I can't turn it off. I love you, Luca."
Luca shuts his eyes. Alberto says it sometimes, when he's half-asleep and being sweet, or when they get into trouble that shakes even their cavalier indifference to staying alive. Luca’s never said it back. It makes him think of a part of himself he left behind; look me in the eye. You know I love you.
She'd said that and he'd still run away. Still been too stifled and unhappy, because she said it every day and he'd say it back and still she almost sent him to the bottom of the ocean. It's a worthless sentiment, Luca decides. Alberto doesn’t love him. Alberto feels more; they need each other like breathing, like one soul spread thin across two bodies that someday, maybe, might make up one functioning person. Love barely starts to describe it. Alberto means something more important, Luca knows this as an indisputable fact. They just don't know what else to call it.
Luca sometimes wonders if it’s as simple as the way he naturally introduces himself with Alberto’s name, taken from him one afternoon with barely a thought. He’d introduced himself to the mark as Luca Scorfano, and he’s never stopped. He considers Alberto more his family than the ones he left behind, the partner that he chose and that he cherishes above all else.
Paguro is a reminder that is far too painful.
So he says nothing. Instead he pushes himself up on his elbows, squirming up Alberto's body so they're eye to eye. "Beto."
"Hm?"
He traces a finger down Alberto's face. Gently, mapping out little scratches and scars and studying features he memorised long ago. "Tomorrow," he says hesitantly. He thinks of the couples they see sometimes on the beach, rings on their fingers, holding hands and laughing about something stupid. In another life that could be them. Two happy, kind people, roaming Europe because they want to and not because they have nowhere else to go. Sightseeing and chatting with strangers. Cuddling in bed and talking in low voices, playing around in exotic towns and writing postcards to their families back home.
But that will never be them, not here. He doesn't cry - he doesn't do that anymore, not really, but he does shut his eyes against Alberto's neck and breathe in.
"Tomorrow," he says instead, voice deliberately light, "I'm going to make so much money you'll be able to eat until you can't walk."
Alberto snorts unattractively. "Please. You love my rock-hard abs."
"Ugh, I do. But you're more than your looks."
"One day you'll leave me for a younger woman."
“You don’t believe that.”
Alberto makes a disbelieving noise, probably playing but it’s not a game that Luca is interested in. He pushes himself out of Alberto’s hold and throws a leg over his hips, pinning him to the mattress and planting his hands on either side of his head, staring at him. Alberto squirms a little, hands skating up Luca’s thighs, palms broad and hot.
“Listen to me, ‘Beto. You’re the only reason I’m still here. The only one. I’d be dead at the bottom of the sea- don’t, gorgeous, you know it’s true,” Luca says as Alberto opens his mouth, eyes wide and solemn as he stares up at him. It makes Luca feel so powerful, having his full attention, even when he’s just telling him something that would normally make him feel vulnerable and delicate, which were emotions he decided long ago he didn’t need or want.
“But before that could happen,” he continues over Alberto’s protests, leaning down to press their foreheads together, lips brushing as he talks, words like a benediction. “I found a boy on an island. Four years ago I found you in that light-house and I decided then and there that I was going to keep you, no matter what. That you were mine. Do you hear me, Alberto Scorfano? I picked you. Every day I’m going to keep picking you because you saved me. Our life isn’t perfect, far from it but you and me? We’re pretty fucking good, right?”
“Luca…” Alberto whimpers, hands clenching around his thighs, pressing bruises into muscles that already tremble from previous use.
“You’re my freedom, ‘Beto. You’re my adrenaline and my safety and the only thing I care about. You’re mine.”
"Yeah," Alberto says and shuts his eyes. His voice is quiet and hoarse and he smells like ash and ozone. "Yes. I'm yours."
Luca shivers, heart hammering as he presses his mouth to his partner’s- his mate’s- and lowers his weight down on top of him, wriggling in delight as Alberto’s arms tighten around his middle.
“Sleep, ‘Beto.” Luca wriggles down a little and presses his face into Alberto’s neck, lips tingling with static. “We hunt tomorrow.”