Work Text:
"It's dawn."
Thomas blinks and smiles feeling the cool breeze coming through the light curtains.
He puts on his briefs making the mattress move a little too much, as soon as he puts his feet on the ground he finds himself moaning breathless.
Ethan stands up to support him by the arms, unlike the blond he doesn’t care about his own naked body, he waits for the othis to smile at him to reciprocate sadly.
Thomas holds his hand and lets himself be led out to the balcony, the coolness becomes more intense, their eyes bright up in light pink.
"It's dawn" is the first thing Thomas said after hours.
It's dawn.
Picks up the cigarettes and a lighter from the crumpled jeans on the floor and waits for the blonde to cover the flame with his hands and take a long drag of smoke before lighting his own.
"Last day of holidays, huh?"
He spoke again.
With a sad smile, a lost gaze beyond the dozens of houses below them, towards the infinitely blue sea.
Ethan huffs out the smoke before stroking Thomas's face.
He sees Thomas closing his eyes, placing his cheek on his hand, as if he needed sweetness, after hours of animal frenzy.
Ethan needed it too.
They don't even know each other, yet-There is sadness... in the background.
In the background.
He had a rough day.
He fell asleep at exactly ten o'clock, he doesn't remember a time where he collapsed so quickly in the last period.
He was so tired that for a moment he thought about not answering the ringing phone at all, but the truth is that he knew very well who was on the other side of the line.
"Ethan! Ethan, I’m glad you answered!"
He smiles as he settles himself on the bed’s headboard, his eyes heavy with sleep and his body half dozed off.
"What are you doing? Are you sleeping?"
"Yes..."
"Oh no, I'm sorry... but you know, I was thinking about you! I couldn't stop thinking about you, really!"
His stomach contracts pleasantly, but Thomas's drunken laughter makes his mouth twist in a wince. He must begin to get used to it, as time passes and he learns to know him, he realizes that the blond doesn’t have the guts , doesn’t have the courage to expose himself to sunlight, he doesn’t want to, because it is all a game for him.
A game.
He stops listening to his drawl words, his tired mind wanders in search of a hideaway, and Ethan doesn't have the strength to stop him.
"Okay- It’s okay?"
He had moved away from him only to slide his lubed fingers in front of his eyes, the truth is that he didn't care, he had already put on the condom, he didn’t care, he didn't care if Thomas was normally a top or bottom or a switch, he didn't care, he just wanted - he couldn't wait ... to dig his fingers inside him, he wanted to hear him whimper, beg for his cock.
So when Thomas nodded, Ethan had already slipped his index finger into his opening, he had curled it to join the middle finger, the blond's legs were shaking, he was shaking too.
"Slow down, do it- slowly, not..."
Ethan's arm muscles were tense, he had just pushed his ring finger but didn't think twice about stopping.
He was out of breath, sweat slipped down his back despite the cool night wind coming in their room forcefully, the white curtains moved non-stop and yet he was sweating.
"Slowly?"
A chuckle roused him, Thomas began to squeeze his shoulders to take him closer, kissed him again and again, with his mouth open overflowing with saliva, he seemed more present at himself than before.
"I talk a lot of bullshit when I have sex. You don't have to listen to me. Never do that."
"What if I hurt you?"
"Not gonna happen."
"What if-"
He felt himself be grabbed by his face, Thomas's shiny gaze was the only thing really clear in the dark of night.
"I trust you."
"Eth oh, did you fall asleep?"
"No, no, I’m listening."
That time he wanted to tell him...
You don't even know me.
How can you trust me?
"We were talking about your soulmate or some similar bullshit, you know?"
Ethan stands more upright against the headboard, the night beyond his window is incredibly dark.
"Yes, I’m listening to you. You were saying that your ideal boyfriend-"
Thomas's bright laugh makes him sigh, it's only when he drinks a little too much that he calls him late at night. The truth is that he is the fool, to answer him.
"Well, yes, he must be strong. He must know how to take me. But he must also be sweet. And strong. Strong yes."
"It seems a bit complicated to me. How many people have you found with these characteristics?"
The comeback makes Thomas laugh, he went from the accurate description of the hot bartender who offered him two spritzes, probably with the hope of taking him to bed, to this one.
"One. - Ethan squeezes the blanket under him and remains silent with his heart beating a little faster. - My previous boyfriends... I mean, the ones I fucked... they were just strong. They knew how to take me, but only when they fucked me. And they weren't sweet, no they weren't sweet at all. "
He pulls his legs to his chest and remains silent.
Maybe he should tell Thomas that it's really late and in a few hours he has a half-past five alarm clock and he won't be able to sleep until lunchtime like any slacker student, he... he has responsibilities.
"And you? You? Youyouyou? Do you have a special person in your heart?"
He sighs at Thomas's cheerful tone.
Every now and then he comes up with these tricky questions, casually asked like they may not mean a lightful thing, but they are straightforward, targeted.
This is the last question he answers, Ethan promises himself, and then he will go back to sleep.
"I told you I don’t have a boyfriend, Thom. But if we’re talking about someone special... Well, I would like someone who is the opposite of me. Who makes me laugh, who lightens the burden that I carry around, but that it is not too superficial. Someone who understands me, who knows that sometimes I also need my space, my solitude. Who respects me and who doesn't try at all costs to change me. "
"It seems difficult . - They both giggle and Ethan holds his phone tighter against his ear, every minute that passes it gets hotter against his cheek. - How many people did you find like that?"
Only... one .
He squeezes his eyelids until the darkness fills his sight with swirling white dots.
"None. It's really difficult."
He bites his tongue.
No, it is not a lie.
It's difficult.
Thom... sometimes he gets really close to that description, but then deviates, deviates at the last turn, exactly when Ethan is there with open arms waiting for him something in his path deviates, like the night calls even if he knows, like his continuous complaints about the university although he knows, like the superficiality with which he leaves and takes anyone in his bed despite him - he - no, Thomas doesn’t know this part.
He doesn’t know.
But- so many other things...
"You have to go to sleep right? Fuck, it's five past three. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, ok? Forgive me baby, I'll make up to you."
It’s Ethan’s fault anyway.
"You don’t need to."
Because by now he no longer pays attention to Thomas's Venetian accent, but in certain moments it is so marked that he spontaneously smiles.
"No, no listen, I'll make up to you. Tomorrow. Tomorrow ok? It's a surprise. Tomorrow ."
"Okay. But now-"
"Let's go to sleep. Yes, you go. I'll... I'll let someone pick me up, okay? This sidewalk is too uncomfortable to sleep on."
"Thom, don't make me worry."
"No, it's too cold, I won't fall asleep. I'm really awake, see? Really awake !"
"Hushhhh!"
Ethan laughs softly, everyone in his house is sleeping soundly, and that's what he should be doing too.
And Thomas too.
"Goodnight, baby. Dream of me."
The line cuts off and Ethan stands with the hot phone pressed to his ear.
"No! No, no Ethan! No..."
He squeezed the blond’s legs and pushed harder, despite his nails scratching his chest, his hands tugging at his hair.
His brain was off-line, he felt a dangerous ringing in his ears, like an internal roar, as if his body was changing in the intercourse.
Maybe Thomas is sensitive.
Maybe he's too sensitive because he's already come and I'm hurting him.
Maybe I have to stop.
"No- no, don't stop..."
He looked down at the blond's wet eyes, his red face, his lost gaze.
No.
It won't stop.
He closes his eyes, tightening the blankets around him.
Dream of me.
As if it didn't already.
Every
single
night.
His long hair is pulled into a low bun, he's been sweating in the mud for hours with the animals, or maybe it's just been minutes.
The sun is high, he pants pulling up his back, his brother Francesco is grooming the horses in the adjacent stables with their little brother Giangi, Lucrezia is with their mother, their father is with Eleonora and Fabri at the city market, trying to sell their cow’s milk. Torchio’s family tried to join a consortium but it did nothing but take money from them and never give them back in any form, they had to eat bread and potatoes for months.
Sometimes he envies his sister Mina for having had the guts to get married and go live outside Sardinia, outside Italy, Europe.
Away from the life of early wakes and sacrifices to which their parents have doomed them.
Away from the sweat, from the smell of mud and manure that you can't get rid of, away from a peasant life with no future.
"Hey! Always in perfect shape huh?"
Ethan squints as he wipes the sweat off with his thick gloves before taking them off.
He would like to be dressed right now, at least with a top over his thick pants, despite the fact that it is late November the sun doesn’t give them space, but the insistent gaze of his best friend is starting to get on his nerves.
He shakes his shoulders and approaches her, the only way to reach the Torchio farm is with a van or on horseback, Claudia in fact rides one of her farms, perhaps Malva or Salvia or Ibisco, he doesn't remember, the sun strikes too hard.
"I wrote to you, but you didn't answer me. I thought I'd pass by anyway."
"Ah, yes. The phone is inside."
"You’re always the same."
He crosses the fence and greets the mare before giving the same friendly pat on Claudia's leg as well.
"I just wanted to know how you were, I haven't been seeing you around for a while. It’s still for the boy from Puglia?"
"He's not from Puglia, he's from Veneto. We only met in Puglia."
“From bad to worse."
He leans down, giggling, towards a fallen tree nearby, on its trunk he has placed the water bottle.
"I would love to tell you ‘you wouldn't say it if you knew him!’ But the truth is that you would say even worse things about him."
"That's right. I just came to remind you that MaVi opened her bar down in Giave, finally. We should step by, you know she's been working so hard-"
Ethan smiles and nods.
Claudia gestures, giggles, but doesn't get off her horse which is a good sign.
It means she’ll go away soon.
"-which is really absurd!"
"Absurd, yes."
He feels the muscles in his arms pulling, the wind has suddenly risen, the sky is progressively darkening.
"You should leave, it will rain soon."
The curly girl lifts her aquiline nose and squints her dark eyes.
"And you should get the chickens back inside."
He nods and gives her a pat on the leg again before re-entering the enclosure.
"See you huh?"
"I wish you had never gone to Puglia!"
He hears her laughing over the roaring wind, raises a carelessly gloved hand in her direction, his priority now are their animals.
He doesn't need to hear how little people valued their milk at the market.
He doesn't need to hear about the few eggs they’ve managed to sell, he doesn't want to know that soon they will be forced to slaughter another goat, this is everyday talk, it weighs him down, so he avoids the second ration of stew her mother is serving to the starving family. to tighten the napkin.
"Can I get up? I'm full."
"Honey... you are getting slimmer..."
"You always see me as too thin."
He smiles at his empty plate, gets up from the crowded table without another word, no one will be bothered by his absence.
Not even a notification, not a message.
He unlocks and locks his phone again without much thought.
Thomas had made him a stupid promise completely sprawled on some random stranger’s stairs in Santa Rita.
He doesn’t know why he still hopes for a sign from him.
Maybe because it was a particularly busy day, no not busy, particularly empty, and he really needs a ray of sunshine right now.
But he doesn't want to sound insistent, whiny, frustrated, nervous, he never wants to sound like it with Thomas, who knows why.
Who knows why he always wants to show him his best side, as well as the best side of his land full of boundless landscapes and sweet animals, the best side of his always fresh and genuine food, the best side of uncontaminated nature, clean air and water, a life of peace and longevity.
Who knows why he doesn’t also show him the hardness of his work and the loneliness of his days, who knows why he doesn’t also show him the frustration of his family and the ghost of poverty that never left them.
Scrolls through the messages, he always does it when his stomach tightens with sadness.
It scrolls to that message from about a month ago, he stops there because it's the only thing that makes him feel alive, human.
Worthy of love and happiness.
He tries not to look at the timetable, he doesn't want to think about it as just another of Thomas's many drunken messages from Padua's evenings, he doesn't wanna think - he blinks.
He doesn't think.
That August 17th you made me so happy
No emojis, no full-stops.
So happy, why?
Because I made you come three times, because we went to sea together holding hands as if we had been a couple for years, because we did nothing but hug and kiss in the christal clear water, because when the shuttle to the airport for Brindisi arrived you hugged me so tight, as if you never wanted to leave me?
We had sand on our feet and our hair dirty with salt, you were crying a little, I was crying a little bit too, but why?
Why?
Because we made ourselves so happy
No full-stops, no emojis.
He squeezes the root of his nose and roughly passes his hands over his eyes, he wants to chase away any liquid trace of that sorrow, that missing feeling, Thomas cares about him, that's it.
He cares about him, he thinks about him, he writes to him and for Ethan just that is enough, is enough for him.
He is not hungry, insatiable for his brief attentions, he is not obsessed with the ghost of his touch, of that delicate body under his fingers, of his lively, vibrant voice, without technological filters.
What Thomas is willing to give him is enough.
Indeed, he feels every day more stunned by the fact that Thomas keeps writing to him, contacting him, taking an interest in him, they have so little in common, their life is diametrically opposite and they have... they shared a night.
One night only.
That August 17th you made me so happy.
He scrolls even further back.
Two months ago, once again ignore the time of the message.
Today I can’t take my mind off you
And again, back.
Do you ever miss me? I always miss you
Lock the phone before a sob clenches his throat.
Thomas has forgotten.
No, no, no, that's nonsense.
He whines, he shouldn't have this lump in his throat for a stupid sentence uttered at three in the morning.
Thomas must not make up with him in any way.
The phone vibrates in his hands, Ethan opens his eyes abruptly, slips away the icon of a pic from Thomas.
I told you I'd make up to you!
He bursts out laughing ahead of time because he already understood.
The photo shows only Thom’s butt and legs, his hands pull his own briefs, on his butt-cheks it says Sor-ry written with lipstick, he laughs, he hurries to write:
You’re already drunk?
Mindy lent me the lipstick
Now you are forced to forgive me
Mindy aka Lena aka Maddy aka Maddalena aka Amanda is Thomas's roommate, she introduces herself to people every time with a different name, he happens to see her in FaceTime and she changed so many hair colors that Ethan never recognizes her.
Ahh I forgive you as long as you delete this terrible photo!
How dare you? Don't bite the hand that fed you 😉
You’re really hopeless.
Look how I’m grammatically fluid, see? I didn't drink, as I’m such a good boy 😘
Very good, yes.
Now I have to go baby Eth, we are currently in a course meeting with the uni coordinator and I am trying not to fall asleep, think about me
I think about you.
Did you dream of me tonight? 😋
Thom!
I've to go, chat you soon 💕
Ethan chuckles again at the sight of the photo, quits the texting app and locks the phone.
Who knows why-
If only Thomas wrote to him every day Ethan is sure that his smile would have barely any reason to go away.
It takes so little to make him happy.
He breathed.
He was just- breathing.
He was breathing against Ethan’s thumb with his lips parted, he never moved his legs from his hips since they entered the water.
"Come with me to the sea."
Thomas had smiled grateful but above all relieved, of a relief absolutely out of place, Ethan, he - he doesn’t know him.
He doesn't know who he is.
Yet he sighed in pure bliss holding his hand to the beach, and never, not once, turned away from him.
Not even after Ethan had kissed him with salt-moistened lips, no, on the contrary, Thomas had moved closer, held him tighter until he felt himself being lifted by his ass and saw the water brush against his arms.
The crowded beach was a distant hum for them who were out in the crystal clear sea, tight in a calm embrace.
He wanted to talk, ask him a lot of questions about his origins, his life, his interests, his feelings.
He stayed breathing on his thumb instead.
With soaked hair that let salty drops slip down his cheeks.
"Thom!"
He startles when he hears the sound of a slap, the temptation to touch his cheek is strong.
No, not a slap, Oreste still holds his palms tight to simulate a firm applause.
"Are you already drunk?"
He pushes him away when he gets up from the step that has welcomed him up to that moment, he hears his dark haired friend laughing merrily behind him, snorts because the cigarette he held between his lips has gone out inexorably without him having even made a drag.
"I'll buy you something at the vending machine, will you?"
"Sure, why not scrounge."
He passes the credit card in the machine before Oreste completes the sentence, the entrance hall of the Uni Department is swarming with silent and gloomy people, between those who feverishly squeeze their notes and those who spasmodically repeats in a low voice, you can really breathe a funeral air.
"Aren't you worried about Professor Feltrinelli?"
"I've done everything in my power to study this fucking useless subject, why should I be worried?"
"You mean you have studied from Clizia's notes that you basically stole from her with your crocodile tears a week ago?"
Thomas hands him a Red Bull without turning, taking a sip from his own can.
"Why are you doing so?"
"Doing what?”
"You always aim for 18 and when a 20 rarely comes, you throw a party at your house like you won the cup. It's your senior year... I want you to graduate with us, with decent grades."
“How come, with your average of twenty-seven you’re afraid of being associated with me?"
He smiles at him as he turns around, Oreste scratches his thick curls before lifting his round glasses over his nose.
"I just want you to be happy, to find a good job, it would be nice to have the chance to work together someday."
He passes in front of him with two slaps on the shoulder and the Red Bull still gripped between his fingers.
"I'm happy with alcoholic evenings together."
"Clizia and I won't come! It's the last year."
He turns to the dark haired boy, taking a quick sip from the can and then lifting it.
"Exactly!"
"Hey Lena."
The platinum blonde head comes out of the sofa, his roommate can sleep in the most uncomfortable positions, her tiny figure helps her with that. When they walk side by side they look like a little girl and a giant.
"Hey Thommy. How did your exam go?"
"Failed it, as you can imagine. But you know I couldn’t care less, in two weeks there’s another examination and I still have Clizia's notes, and by the way. - He goes around the sofa to reach the kitchenette, he has to go down to get to the small fridge without banging his head, pick up a multivitamin with a victorious smile. - Oreste gave me a Red Bull and a sermon about my poor university performance, when he cut up his speaking I had white hair and a beard."
"You? The beard? I can't imagine you with too much hair even if I try."
"Mindy, are you going to keep talking nonsense or are you going to call someone to get drunk tonight?"
"Only if you promise me that you won't call your Apulian friend. There is a lot of good items out there in Padua, just stop whining about his huge cock."
Thomas bites his lip not to smile too much.
"I'll never stop whining about his cock, I've never seen one like his. Besides, he's not from Puglia, I only met him there, he's-"
"Yes, yes, I understand, I don't care. What I want to say is that if you get drunk at least you have to be cheerful, not annoying. You have to take a look around and pick up someone, but from there, not someone that lives 300 kilometers away. Rebound, you always said so."
"Yeah, it's a shame that since I got back from that fucking vacation my dick hasn’t hardened that much with a soul. No one is... comparable."
Maddalena scratches her nostrils under the nose pads of his round eyeglasses.
"Because of his huge cock?"
"No, fuck, not for that! Because...- he snorts around the girl now standing, he wants a cigarette but wants to limit himself, he is... trying to quit. - Because these random guys open their mouths and my cock swells. They kill my vibe with their University talking, the shit job they do, their pain in the ass family, not to mention transfer students! Those are the worst, they count the days that separate them from returning home and practically only talk about that."
"Because your farmer friend who talks to you about cow manure is so interesting."
Maddalena has a red face and tight lips, despite the pallor that characterizes her face, her eyes still bear the marks of her childhood in Malta.
"I didn't mean that transfer students have no reason to complain, Mindy. Being workers or academics, they all have reason to complain but I don't want to listen! Ethan never complains. He has sacrificed himself for his family, he sure knows what hard work is, but he never once complained or played the victim."
"If so then you don't have to call him tonight. Doesn't he wake up before dawn every day?
If you have so much respect for him you don't have to call him and you just have to relax. I'll take care of the evening."
Thomas straightens his shoulders and nods seriously.
"Exactly. I'll pay for all my vodka shots and I won't call him."
His pillow vibrates.
The arm he stretches out seems to weight a ton.
Takes his phone in slow motion, the vibration becomes more annoying with each passing second.
"He-llo."
"Eth! Eth baby hi! Hi, hi, hi."
He spreads a hand on his face.
"Thom."
Loud noises of voices and music nearly drown out his cheerful voice.
"How are you? Eh? I missed you!"
He doesn't know how hard he can clear his throat and respond consistently.
"Thom, it's almost four in the morning."
"Yes, yes! yeahyeahyeah , that’s why I called! To tell you that I respect you, I respect your hard work and I will not call you again at night!"
Oh, God.
"I’m about to hang up."
"No! Nononono Eth, Ethan please don't hang up, I miss you so much!"
Thomas's voice began to drag on high and petulant pitch, the sad kind that doesn’t allow replies.
Ethan sighs and remains silent.
If you ask him, he doesn't know why he keeps humoring Thomas, anyone else... would have simply said ‘go fuck yourself’, because Thomas doesn't respect him, he doesn't respect his resting schedule and he doesn't respect the importance of work.
"This is the last time I answer you, Thom.
The last. Make it worth it."
"Yes, yes, Ethan listen, I miss you ok?"
"You already said it, you keep saying it, who knows why you don't repeat it during daytime too, when the alcohol is not in your bloodstream and you’re wide awake."
He didn't want to sound so harsh but he's not going to patiently bite his tongue again this time.
He hears the laughter in the background fade, the sound of a door closing, perhaps Thom has come out of the pub that hosted him, he hears him take a few steps to move further away and start his pathetic whimpering again.
"No, no Ethan listen, there's this idiot bartender who wants to fuck me, I really don't know what to do, but what does he want? He's cute I swear to you, but I don't want it, I don’t want to fuck with him, I just want your cock, ok, I'm not satisfied with anything else, not anymore."
His eyes widen and Ethan sits up on the bed with his heart sinking in his chest.
What-
"What the fuck are you saying?"
"No no, listen if Mindy finds out she’ll kill me, you don't have to tell her ok? She always says I have to be an independent woman who’s gonna tell her about this monogamy shit with a Sardinian farmer eh who’s gonna tell her-"
Ethan feels more and more offended and confused by the words that overlap in Thomas's mouth, he knew he shouldn't have answered him.
"What the fuck are you talking about? We're not even together, we live on opposite sides of Italy, what... Thom we had sex once! And you didn’t... Well, you contacted me after a month as if nothing had happened and you took my friendship without even asking me and what should I do now?
Should I thank you? ‘Cause you think I was the best fuck ever?"
He is so angry.
Because Thomas talks to him about the guys he fucks with a cheerful smile, because he doesn't spare the details and expects Ethan to be quiet, to smile at the right time, to disapprove his behavior but never judge him and Ethan feels tired.
What do he want me to tell him?
That for him to theirs was the best fuck ever, indeed, for ever and ever, and that he cannot be his friend, that he cannot smile at the right moment, that he’s fucking tired of showing himself patient and loving.
But it’s worthless anyway...
"We belong to two different worlds, Thom. We liked each othis, we had sex, we separated. I will never thank Puglia enough for giving us its red ground and calm sea, for offering us a free ground just right for us.
It was wonderful while it lasted, but it can't work out. It can't work."
Maybe he's just tired.
"You're just tired. Once again it's my fault I'm sorry. I won't do it again, that's why I called you-"
"Enough Thom."
Maybe he's just really tired, he wouldn't speak as firmly in other circumstances, the realization that he is pulling Thomas away from his life doesn't strike him as deeply as it would in the light of his empty days, now he just wants to be left alone, he wants to bury himself in the his blankets and just sleep.
Sleeping forever, never seeing tomorrow.
"I- I..."
"Enough."
He is tired of the easy emotions of the blond.
Tired of his tears so frequent that they sound fake and his constant laughter, as if there isn’t anything that really saddens or really amuse him at all, Thomas is so different from him.
Ethan hasn't cried since their calf's premature death four years ago.
And he hasn't laughed since... since the second-last video call with Thomas.
"I just wanted to tell you- there's not a single day that I don't think about that caress you gave me at dawn on that white balcony."
Ethan looks at the home screen of his phone.
He hanged up before Thomas tightened his tentacles around his heart to bring him back into his clutches, it's night, and the blond isn't the only one who gets weak at night.
Weak.
Because he quickly sets the airplane mode on the phone, pushes it under the pillow and closes his eyes as soon as he rests his head on it, he needs to stop thinking; at Thomas's weirdly lucid, weirdly alert, aware, convincing tone of voice.
I can still feel your warmth on my cheek.
"You’re not how I remembered you."
"Yeah?"
The flame of the lighter brightened up his face for a few seconds, the time needed to light the smoke that came out of his thin lips, then nothing more.
"You turned your nose at me, didn't you? It bothered me a lot considering you've always been so chill."
"What you want me to tell you."
"It was weird."
He doesn't bother to answer.
"Everything’s good?"
"I think you should go, you know? We never got lost in small talk, I like you more like that."
He smiles hoping to sweet the pill, he doesn't feel convincing at all but the truth is that he doesn't care if the darkness hides his fake cheerfulness or not.
"I think so too. Can we... chat soon? Yeah."
Thomas doesn’t move from his softly seated position, the cigarette hanging from his lips, he doesn’t even bother to show him the door.
You’re not how I remembered you.
What does it mean?
He lets the iPhone recognize his fingerprint, scrolls through the chats, his fingers always stop there.
Ethan
No emoji, no surname, no ID, the only Ethan he knows, the most important.
They haven't talked to each other for over a month.
A silence that feels like a breakup, that's why after... after a while he tried to resume his old bachelor life, but only managed to sleep with the insistent bartender.
You’re not how I remembered you.
He no longer feels the same, in fact.
He puts out his cigarette and lies down on the unmade bed.
The sky is gray, cold.
He doesn't know what time it is, very early, very late, morning, afternoon, evening.
He has headphones stuck in his ears for a time that seems endless, looping on the same song.
Baby I think of you
when I'm all alone and it's half past two
Blinks that let two tears slip on his face, immediately carried away by the freezing cold wind.
Bet you think about it too
Ain't nobody love you like I do
His long hair fills his eyes, mouth, preventing him from seeing the dark sea’s angry foam, his hands are numb, shaking on the wet and icy sand.
He laughs with a sob stuck in his throat, he doesn't even like house music, he doesn't like to go dancing, move convulsively among sweaty bodies, he doesn't like crowds, he doesn't like screams, loud music, sparkling laughter.
Baby I think of you
when I'm all alone and it's half past two
He could have stayed home.
His sister Lucrezia insisted, the three of them never took some time for a holiday together, then Puglia? Never seen it. Used to the mountains, the animals, the rocks, the mosses, the perfectly fresh and clean air of the Sardinian countryside.
He could have stayed home even now.
Bet you think about it too
Ain't nobody love you like I do
What is he doing here?
What is he doing here alone?
Now that the sea is no longer crystal clear, now that the beach isn't overcrowded with tourists, now that the evenings are over, now that the vodka crates have emptied, now that the phone doesn't ring.
like I do
Now that the phone doesn't ring.
like I do
Now that the phone doesn't ring.
like I do
Now that-
Hey!
I know ... it might seem strange to you-
It's just that I’m alone right now and it's past two thirty and you'll be asleep for sure.
I don’t know.
I just want to hear from you.
You want to?
I'll call you tomorrow.
No, he's not calling.
And Ethan... what is he doing there?
He gets up from the freezing sand and shakes his pants.
Puglia is not as he remembered it.
Neither does Thomas.
He opens his eyes.
Five to ten in the morning.
He turns off the alarm clock, drives away the dream of tonight from his eyelids, rolls the cold sea out of his pupils with his fingers, covers his ears with his palms, shutting out that damned song.
"Ethan! Ethan, breakfast is ready, come on!"
Lucrezia's voice makes him wake up completely, he gets up from the bed feverish, yesterday he forgot to take the Tachipirina, he wobbles a little on his legs, blows his nose, pulls his hair off his face and squeezes it into a high ponytail.
He must feel better soon in any case, he’s not allowed to feel sick.
Thomas stays in bed even with a slight headache.
No no, he has to stop thinking about it, thinking about him.
Thom doesn't think about Ethan anyway.
He has to stop - dreaming about him.
They're too different, they always have been, they can’t even be friends, they 're... opposites.
He takes off his fleece pajamas soaked in cold sweat, opens the window to let in clean air, chills hit him again, he hurries to put on thick pants and stiff boots.
"Ethan!"
His mother's wooden spoon against his closed door is always a bad sign, time is running out, his head is spinning and he has his hard time lining up letters to spell an I’m coming! blunt.
"Ethan... why the name Ethan?"
"My parents worked all their lives, they used to go to bed quite early in the evening, the only pleasure they indulged in was a movie every now and then, the ones with Ethan Hawke were their favorites. I prefer to believe they followed the original Hebrew pronunciation rather than making a mistake from the beginning to call me with the E. "
"Come on, don't say that! I like it. E-than. Right? Nice."
"Ethan! Did you take the pill? Oh?"
Francesco snaps his fingers in front of his eyes, the blond's voice leaves his feverish thoughts and makes him blink in confusion.
He is still sitting at the table, again-
again -
Giangi suddenly screams, making him jump, the whims of his little brother make everyone else nervous.
"I'll calm him down."
He jumps up from the table and finds himself panting, he has to hold on to the door jamb trying to not collapse to the ground.
"Stop! We don’t need him to catch the flu, either. Today you go cleaning the barn, you couldn't do anything else in these conditions, anyway."
His mother keeps a firm and cold tone, Ethan nods to no one in particular, his eyes glued to the floor in case he sees the ground move under his feet again.
That’s why he misses the compassionate glances of his brothers, none of them like to remember their sick days spent working anyway.
"So you were really a nerd in high school, huh? Who would have guessed! And you would’ve liked to continue studying?"
"Obviously yes... but the university is too far from where I live, not to mention college loans... we are seven siblings, you know? I didn't even propose it, I didn't have the courage. The answer would have been negative anyway. but it's nobody's fault, my parents try to do everything possible for us. The fate of the Torchios is already written."
"I'm really sorry. But you know... you seem like an educated person to me already, seems like you’re currently studying! I would not say otherwise hearing you speak. I admire you a lot, although I am in the last year of University I have no properties in language, I’m lazy. My parents practically forced me to continue studying, at this point I almost envy you!"
"Don't say that. You don't know what it means."
The shovel trembles in his hands.
The smell of dung and hay is mixed with the damp one, chills are eating him alive, he cannot stop his teeth from chattering so much that he is afraid of breaking them.
He takes a step back, the work tool slips from his fingers, he finds himself reaching out his hands towards any support, he touches a column, then the wooden door that keeps the horse closed, he is panting, he closes his eyes and stretches hands towards the animal unnerved by its behavior.
"Stella? Is that Stella? It's alright. Shhh, alright."
Everything-
"Hello? Ethan? Ethan hello, how nice that-"
"I'm Fabrizio, Ethan's brother. - Thomas blinks confused, worry creeps up his spine, throws his cigarette in the loo and flushes the toilet, quickly coming out of the University bathroom. - Probably I shouldn't have called you, if Eleonora finds out she’ll kill me."
"Fabrizio listen, You’re playing a joke on me? ‘Cause I should be in class now and you're bothering me-"
"Ethan fell into the stables today. We wouldn't have noticed if we weren't attracted by the neighing of the horses, if they cracked their doors open he would have been dead by now. "
The boy's hard accent makes it difficult for him to understand all the words, yet Thomas manages to perceive the tone of urgency, of concern.
He holds the iPhone against his ear, the chatter in the corridor is the annoying buzz that allows him to stay focused and not burst into tears unnecessarily.
"What happened... is he okay?"
"Today was the third day of a high fever, did you knew that? He was talking rubbish when we weighed him down to take him to his room, he mentioned your name, so I picked up the phone and called you, don't tell Eleonora alright?"
Thomas purses his lips and blinks his shining eyes, takes a few steps among the cheerful students who go around him to pass, some of them point to him, someone looks at him dazed.
"I... I won’t say a word. But-"
The line goes down.
Thomas remains with the phone in his hands.
His clouded mind manages to do a quick calculation.
Opens the messaging application.
I'm going to Sardinia for a few days, don't worry ‘bout me, love you
Go back, click on a different chat.
Ethan is sick, I'm going to see him for a few days.
The phone vibrates in his hand almost immediately.
You're gone crazy-
Thomas looks away and opens the SkyScanner app.
"Why did he come?"
"He was worried about you."
"I don't need his concern, he- he doesn't even know me!"
"Maybe that's true, but he's one of the people you care about the most, and don't blame Fabrizio, he only did what he thought would make you feel better. None of us thought your friend would actually come."
Thomas has been torturing his hands for at least half an hour, he doesn't take his eyes off the light wooden door from which the angry whispers come, the twins Eleonora and Lucrezia keep him locked out since they set foot in Torchio’s house.
It was when they picked him up from the station that he really realized.
Watching the old Chevrolet truck miraculously hovering up the mountain roads, watching how the foils tremble around them at every more rounded bend, every steeper descent.
It was an awareness that became more acute when they passed the family property, when he saw the state of the farm, when he crossed the threshold of the mansion.
"Thomas is not like us. He goes to university, has fun, gets drunk with friends and falls asleep on the street, he's an only child, and his parents pour every penny to support him and-"
"You want me to kick him out, Is that so? After he made a trip like that from Veneto? What do you think, Lucy? If Ethan hates him so much..."
Thomas is standing.
He has no intention of disturbing any further.
Now that he's here he realizes the stupid thing he's done, he's got a whole family in turmoil on his whim, he forced them to apologize for the mess and wet stains on the walls, he's making them fight, he's waving Ethan who should just rest and feel comfortable, Thomas was just- selfish.
The truth is that he wanted a chance to see him again, any excuse to be able to observe his eyes closely without the camera filter, to be able to hold his body in a hug just for the sake of it.
But Ethan can't stand it anymore.
Thomas knows, he gets it.
It’s because lately he tested his patience, teased him, played with him, talked about the boredom of the study despite knowing that Ethan mourns that denied possibility every day, he talked about the men he slept even exaggerating, despite knowing that... but he just wanted- to have a reaction from him.
But Ethan is too well-mannered to unbalance.
"Yes! Maybe you should send him away, Ele. Send him away and let me drown in my self-pity."
It was.
Thomas sighs, his eyes feel too bright, he has to step forward now and walk away, or he'll break into a desperate cry shortly thereafter.
And then... he pretended not to see them, but he knows very well that Ethan's brothers are listening, hiding badly from the wall behind him, he doesn't want to be seen in tears by them.
So he knocks on the door and wait for one of the twins to open it.
"Coming was a mistake, I beg your pardon.
I will leave immediately, it was not my intention to ruin your evening, I will call a taxi to take me to the station and then I’ll try to change my flight for a sudden one."
Eleonora (or Lucrezia?) Remains impassive in front of him.
She doesn't look like Ethan, none of the Torchio brothers completely remembers him, some have the shape of his eyes, some have the color of his lips, some his very straight nose, some his thick hair.
"There are no taxis here, and I have no intention of driving you at ten in the evening if I can avoid it. If you think you were wrong coming here I'll fix your sofa and take you down to town tomorrow, but I can already tell you it's useless, they will not change your flight. You might as well stay here."
Her voice isn't quite like Ethan's either.
The girl articulates the words clearly but maintaining a single static tone, perhaps she is afraid of not being understood by him, on the other hand Thomas also tried to speak slowly.
Sometimes his friends, even being transfer-students in Padua for years, don’t understand his venetian accent.
But perhaps there is too much distance between them, they are destined not to understand each other.
Nevertheless Thomas nods, after a last glance at the closed door he follows the girl downstairs, in the kitchen there is a sofa that has probably never seen better days, Eleonora opens a small wardrobe next to it and pulls out some blankets.
"You've probably noticed it already, but winter here is just as cold as yours."
He nods and thanks her, watches her go away without saying another word, but on the other hand Thomas would not have expected any more courtesies from her.
He pulls the thick woolen blankets against his chest.
He has never felt so uncomfortable and out of place in his life.
Or rather, he slept on the stairs in Santa Rita once, but it was different, the alcohol made the granite soft, lowered his inhibitions, weighed down his muscles, no, it was different, now he doesn't feel out of place, just... Unwanted.
Ethan lifts his eyelids.
He doesn't find them stuck for once, he touches his stomach and is relieved not to see it wet with sweat, the golden light just filters through his window, marks his chest, leaving everything else in a gray shadow.
He squints with a sigh.
"I'm glad to see you better, I was... very worried."
Ethan can't help but smile when he feels the cold touch of two hands gently squeezing his.
It had been a long time since Thomas showed up in one of his dreams.
"I really missed you."
He frowns when he hears the blond’s voice cracking slightly, opens his eyelids, and takes a few seconds to realize- remember.
He withdraws his hand from the other's soft grip, lifts his back tiredly panting, and then sits up with a grunt.
Thomas is in front of him, it's not a dream, really - it's in front of him.
"Ethan I know that my presence is unwelcome and I know that I made you so much-... I mean, I made a real effort to be hated and now I understand why."
The dark-haired boy places his back tiredly against the bed’s headboard, his head throbs annoyingly and he still struggles to look up at the other.
"How is it possible that despite all you’re so beautiful? Seriously, you probably haven't showered in days, I can guess it and... I can smell it. - He hears him giggling and sniffling, he doesn't have the strength to look at him with contempt nor to brush away the hand that is now gently stroking his hair to fix it. "You’re still the most beautiful boy I've ever seen."
The Thomas of today... reminds him of the Thomas of his dreams.
The Thomas of his fantasies, the Thomas of his summer memories, faded and sweetened by time.
He remembers that boy because it's sweet.
Because he is devoted, because he whispers instead of screaming, because he is lucid, sober, excited, sincere, calm.
And Ethan notices it even though he still doesn't have the strength to lift his lids and look into his liquid eyes.
"You're not- like that."
He's more of a gasp, but it doesn't matter, he doesn't want to be heard by Thomas, he wants to be heard by himself, it's about to slap himself and remind himself that Thomas isn't an angel at all.
Indeed he’s a devil who tempts you with sweetness and sensuality only to turn your back and let you slip into the madness that is a life without him.
"Ethan..."
He squints just to see Thomas getting closer, sitting on the mattress next to him, his blond hair now completely golden next to the beam of light, his skin appear whiter, his tears brighter.
Ethan feels his heart tremble.
"No, you have to... go away."
Thomas holds his hand, brings it to his lips and kisses his knuckles, his mouth is wet, his saliva is thick, he pulls away from it only to bring Ethan’s hand to his cheek and squeeze it against his face.
"Ethan..."
Why?
His stomach is in mush, his heart is beating so hard he can feel it in his throat, because-
"I missed you so much."
- why can't he throw him out?
Why he’s unable to reject him, throw angrily in his face all the late risers he is responsible for, all the days in which for this reason he has gone to work already exhausted, why he feels like stroking the blond’s lips with his thumb and instead does not get angry at how badly Thomas treated him in those months, how did he make him feel, how much did their diversity weighted on him, why does he stay silent with the one and only desire to caress the other’s face to chase away all his tears?
"Baby..."
His stomach turns and he quickly pulls his hand away from the blond's cheek.
"Do not call me that."
"I've always called you that... I do it with all my friends."
Ethan looks away.
"Do not call me that."
"Alright."
The silence between them was long, stretched.
Ethan hasn't looked at him again, preferring to watch beyond the window, where the light of day is imposing itself more and more courageously on the night.
It’s strange to hear Thomas quiet.
He doesn’t like silence, it anguishes him and makes him uncomfortable, he wants to fill it at any cost, for this reason often his speeches are disconnected and that senseless words reach straight to his heart, hurting him.
Ethan on the contrary prefers silence, he would prefer it a thousand times if he knew that his hasty words could hurt someone.
He rises to sit up, his breath is short and his head is spinning, he grinds his teeth and tries to ignore his own hot body.
"I have to go and see if the kids need-"
"No! No Ethan, wait, move slowly..."
Thomas grabs him by the torso, holds his head with one hand, waits for Ethan to have his eyes wide open to squeeze his lips and shake his head.
He puts him back down, between the blankets, sits next to him, squeezing and kissing Ethan’s hand again, as if he couldn't stop himself from showing his affection but at the same time he knew he had to limit himself.
"Your family asked me to stay close to you, if you keep on tiring your body you will never be able to recover, you’re not useful to anyone like that."
Ethan tries not to look at him once again.
Every detail of Thomas would make him weak, from his thin mouth to the worried crease of his eyebrows, from his small sunken shoulders to his sadly darkened green eyes, so he doesn't look at him.
He hasn't looked at it so far, he doesn't want to give up.
Thomas will leave tomorrow and Ethan will be alone again without his back, without his eyes, everything will return to normal except for his own heart, a new crack on the surface and more tears to shed at night.
So he doesn't look at him, and instead closes his eyes.
He hears feeble, tired words.
He hears denials and affirmations, he hears everything obscured, distant, as in a dream, a dream without shape or color, and it is only when he opens his eyes that the world regains meaning.
The pupils get used to the dark, the ears to the silence, the body to the touch.
The twilight light passes freely through the window, it is what makes him turn around, it is a moment.
Thomas is sleeping next to him.
He blows on his neck with heavy, curled up, crooked, uncomfortable breath, and Ethan can't take his eyes off him now.
From his small hands wrapped around his arms, from his slender chest that rises and lowers almost imperceptibly, his thin and long legs bent to fit on the mattress.
He's beautiful.
And tender, docile.
Looks like the guy of his dreams.
He stretches towards the lamp, thanks to its warm light he notices the still steaming soup on the bedside table indicates the passage of his mother, who knows what he may have thought.
Two twenty-three-year-olds sleeping together... blinks.
Tomorrow Thomas is leaving and Ethan will keep his heart double-locked for many more years, no need to worry.
"How do you feel?"
Thomas fastens his gaze to his and does not allow him to take it away, he tightens his pajama shirt, his face tense.
"Better... better yes."
The blonde nods, moves away from him and sits up, his bones creak in motion, do you want some? he says, but without waiting for an answer he reaches out his hands to the soup and waits to see him against the headboard to hand him the first spoon.
"Aren't you hungry?"
Ethan greedily swallows the spoons offered to him, Thomas's stomach growls empty too, but his smile does not crack even for a moment.
"I brought some snacks from the trip, I didn't want to weigh on you in any way."
"We’re not poor as church mices."
"I know. - Thomas leaves him a quick kiss on the cheek, he doesn't give him time to realize that he's already handing him a new spoonful of soup with his cheeks a little red. - It's just that I eat a lot, I didn't want to... weight on you. I was planning to eradicate the problem from the roots, but your parents insisted, and honestly... even if I would have preferred it to be in different circumstances, to have you here in front of me, to be able to touch you... "
"You’re speaking differently from usual, did you know? More polished."
Thomas chuckles and sets the nearly empty plate on the sheets damp with feverish sweat.
"I've read... some of the books you recommended. And I'm studying more carefully, in Public Law we did a kind of pre-exam, I managed to get a 25, you would have guessed? You’d be very proud of me."
25... Ethan smiles and touches his disheveled hair in an imperceptible caress.
"I'm very proud of you."
"Without you there distracting me..."
"Don't blame me!"
"I'm kidding! - Thomas’s smile becomes sadder, he gets up to put the plate on the bedside table and looks up for clean sheets. - I know it's only my fault, I've always had everything, everything I wanted, but since I’ve realised having all this freedom I don't know what to do with it."
"You don't know how many people would like to be in your place."
"I know..."
"So it's not true that you don't know what to do with it."
Thomas grins at him.
"If I don't manage to graduate within the year, you won't want to talk to me anymore, I’m sure."
Ethan puts a painful pinch on his arm and slowly gets up with him to change the sheets.
"Definitely no."
"Won't you even kiss me before I leave?"
Ethan rolls his eyes and starts to make the bed, he still feels warm, but much better than before, his head doesn't spin when he bends over to adjust the corners of the sheet, he's a little more stable as he walks towards the basket of dirty clothes in the bathroom, leaving the door open.
"I need to take a shower, are you waiting for me?"
He closes the door behind him when he sees Thom agree.
Thomas sighs and shrugs his shoulders with his hands.
He hopes that the crossing of his arms on his chest will calm his maddened heart, he has no idea how he managed to stay still until that moment.
Maybe because Ethan was really sick and he was worried, but now that he sees him better, that he feels less hated, less unwanted, in fact, he almost feels... part of Ethan's daily sphere... he would like to be next to him again for a long time.
Days, weeks.
He would like to quit for good his studying, his city life, night outings and his sentimental freedom to move here?
No, what is he saying.
Ethan would never forgive him and his parents too. And then what would he do with his life?
He couldn't hoe the ground even if his life depended on it, he couldn't... deal with dirty and smelly animals and even if he were, if... Ethan would spare him all this, what - should he stay home, to lead the life of a peasant farm girl, between diapers and-
An expression of disgust cuts off those thoughts and makes him collapse on the bed in the dark.
No children.
Please.
He doesn't want to leave Padua, in Veneto he has everything, everything he needs, every amusement, every support and every responsibility .
But if he thinks about it... Padua is not the same without Ethan, he is not the same.
How can they - make it work?
The door only opens and then closes.
He sees Ethan's fingers sliding to the key now... they're alone.
The dark haired boy's gaze is more lucid now, present. His long hair drips onto his chest and fades into the towel he's wrapped around his waist.
"Ethan..."
Thomas feels his eyes become glossy, doesn’t dare to hope that... that the dark-haired man still feels that spark between them, that he too has had his hard time keeping himself from kissing him, that he too is thinking about their possible future together.
"You have to finish college, Thom."
His voice is dark, low, making his hands tremble as he takes off his sweater and pulls his legs onto the bed.
"No more complaints. No more alms of notes and slides that others have taken in your place, no more comatose evenings and fainting on the sidewalks of your city, no more drunk calls at night. I'm asking you to be a model student and a respectful boy. "
His frantic hands pull his jeans from his ankles.
He blinks because Ethan has now moved away from the door to take a few steps towards him.
"A- boy?"
"Boyfriend."
Thomas's heart leaps into his chest, he can't believe it, Ethan, he - he's bent over, caressing his face wet with astonished tears, smiles as he pushes his thumb up his neck.
"You don’t have to fuck around anymore, Thom. Game over. You must have respect for me, is that clear?"
Ethan’s very black lashes are glued together, his eyes seem even more determined.
"Say yes or get out of my fucking life."
Thomas stands still for a moment.
His head moves automatically, before the brain has processed, and perhaps Ethan notices it, he squeezes his neck pushing his thumb on his Adam's apple, the pain makes him wince, the neurons are reactivated.
"Yes? No, no, it's important, I want you to say it."
Thomas grits his teeth and grabs Ethan’s damp hair on the top of his head to see him as amazed and sore as he is.
"Yes, fuck."
There is a thud, like something heavy falling into the room as their mouths start to devour each other.
It is something invisible, which makes the floor tiles tremble, vibrates up to the bed, reaches their legs, their frantic hands, their eyes that open wide in the dark.
Their heads split, their eyes wander into each other, they both heard that noise because it was the sound of their boundaries collapsing and for a second they were both afraid.
Of their unknown future.
It's a second.
But then Ethan’s finger pushed down Thom’s briefs and the blond dissolved the knot of the towel of the other and then...
"I missed you... I missed you missedyoummissedyoumissedyou."
Ethan prepared his opening for a long time.
Long.
He followed the chills of the blond’s body, he felt the thrills, he indulged them only to fill Thomas’s hole with four fingers and grit his teeth for his nails stuck in his arm.
But he prepared him for a long time.
And it was only when he entered him, only when he felt Thom’s tremors calm down that Ethan understood his stuttering words.
"I missed you... every day."
Thomas looks tired, shattered.
His lips are dry, his eyes wet with tears, his thin stomach rises slowly following his breath, it seems almost swollen, full of Ethan.
"I missed you too."
The blond smiles at him proud of the answer, closes his eyes and turns his head to get to kiss Ethan’s arm stretched out beside him.
It all seems motionless for a while.
Calm, warm.
But Ethan's starting to tug at his arms and lower belly and he can't- wait.
Enough waiting.
He pushes his cock inside him several times to see him perk up, opening his mouth wide, narrowing his eyes, clinging to his outstretched arms, biting his lip to keep himself from screaming and Ethan couldn't be happier than that.
It's not like the first time.
He feels Thomas's legs gradually tighten around his waist, he can't help but concentrating on his own hard-on, swallowed up, engulfed, by the blond's opening, tight, tighter than their first time, he remembers every second of that night, but the friction it was minimal, a sign of experience, definitely a lot of it.
Now if it weren't for his badly held-back moans, the sensuality of his body, the hardness of his hands, Ethan would think Thomas is a virgin.
For how long you haven’t slept with someone?
How long, maybe... maybe -
"Were you waiting for me? Thomas- were you... waiting me?"
He holds him by the waist and lifts him, the blond pushes a hand over his mouth to keep himself from screaming, when Ethan settles him on his lap he can see the blond’s face very clearly.
They are still united, one in the other, there are no more lies to separate them.
Thomas pushes his nose against his, he begins to feel just as hot, as weak, confused, sweaty, cold.
Maybe Ethan infected him with his illness.
With his dick pressed against his taut abdomen, Thomas has no strength.
"I fell in love with you from the very first moment."
He closes his eyes and lets a tear of pain slip on his face, a pain he has held inside for so long.
"What?"
Thomas smiles as he begins to get up on his knees, up and down, up and down, sees Ethan grit his teeth, eyes widen, and feels him tighten his grip on his waist until he is completely surrounded by his arms,deleting any space between them.
"That kiss in the crowd... I'll always remember it."
"Thom... ah- Thom, wait-"
Thomas smiles on his lips, bites his cheek and moans lightly against his ear, Ethan won’t last much, his eyes full of him on his last summer night, his ears full of frenetic and lively house music, like the crowd that surrounded them, like the embrace that held him.
He clenches his hands over his damp hair, pulls it to the roots as he comes, Ethan takes him closer before following him shortly after.
They breathe deeply for a while, sweaty and shivering, they almost laugh at how little they lasted, with all the frustration they had built up, he thought that their second time they would have fucked for hours.
But now... they didn't fuck.
"Thom... Thomas what- what does that mean?"
Ethan squeezes his face, forces him to look at him, in that perfect, confused face of his, and maybe is a little hopeful, none of them are thinking about the aftermath, tomorrow, when they will be miles away from each other again, they are thinking about now.
When there are only two inches between their chest, and Ethan's semen is struggling to pour out of Thom’s opening, still being pushed in by the dark haired boy’s cock.
The other smiles and caresses his face with such a subtle delicacy, that delicacy he never showed him until hours before.
No frenzy, passion, tenderness, coarse laughter, angry words, no willing to hurt.
Only delicacy.
"I fell in love with you at dawn.
And then at the sea, and then when we said goodbye in front of your bus stop.I fell in love when I understood how seriously you face your work, the wonderful mind you own, the depth of your soul.
I fell in love with your appearance, I fell in love because I wanted to fill my empty days and yet I didn't think it was true love, I didn't think it, not even when you left me."
"We weren't together."
Thomas's thumb pushes hard on his cheek until it hurts, and then- it comes back light, to caress it, to fondle it gently.
"You broke up with me anyway, but you were right.
You were right, I wouldn't have reached out for this Sardinian village otherwise, I would not have risked catching a crazy fever by staying close to you. I would not have risked it, if there hadn’t been the chance to go back to your side."
Thomas lifts his hips only to sigh relieved when Ethan's soft dick slips out of him, however he returns to sit on his lap, to caress his face, to bend his hips for the force with which the dark-haired man squeezes him against himself.
"It doesn't matter if you don't feel the same yet, or if you never will, but since you officially asked me-"
Ethan kisses him, quitting the tired croak of Thom’s voice, smiles on his lips, bites his chin in punishment, because Thomas was not careful.
"I asked you to be my boyfriend despite everything you put me through, I thought it was obvious that I love you too."
Thomas smiles and holds his face tighter.
"Yup?"
"Yup."
"So then..."
Take me back with you.
