Archive of Our Own

“So,” says Giulia.

Luca sips his gin and tonic. The bar is unusually slow for a Saturday, mostly older folk and some underage teenagers that the owner is too tired to throw out. They’re not getting into trouble today, anyway. Most of them are dancing with Alberto. On the floor, like good kids, although Luca can see Alberto gaze longingly at the top of the jukebox. “So?”

“You know Papa’s been leaving wedding brochures out for a reason.”

“I feel like you’re a little young for him to be pushing you already. We’re only nineteen.”

“Luca,” she says like he’s stupid. Which, compared to her, Luca supposes most people usually are. “He wants you and Alberto to make it official.”

“Us?” That would make sense, actually. Massimo’s been doing that meaningful moustache twitch at him lately every time Alberto’s not looking. “Two men can’t get married in Italy, though.”

“Marry him underwater, then. And it’ll be nice to at least have an informal reception up here, so you two can stop living under my father’s roof in sin.”

“Hm?”

Giulia wiggles her eyebrows ridiculously. “You know. Sleeping together without being married. We covered this in Bible study.”

Luca blinks. He can feel a blush creeping up his neck and over his ears, and he takes another big gulp of his drink, studiously avoiding eye contact. “Alberto and I haven’t – we aren’t actually like that.”

“You’ve been sharing a bed since you were fourteen.”

“To sleep in, Giulia.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Luca says, setting his glass down slightly too fast so gin sloshes over the rim. His fingers go briefly green. He shakes them off, pretending not to notice Alberto casting a glance in their direction. “We haven’t – gosh. We’re not even really together-together. We’ve never talked about being more than friends. I’m not completely sure he even wants to.”

Giulia stares at him. Really stares, trying to catch him out, but Luca’s a terrible liar and she seems to realise he’s being completely genuine. “Dude. You’re attached at the hip. He does everything for you. There’s no way he doesn’t like you like that.”

Luca shrugs. They’d almost kissed once, in fact, a few years ago. They’d been on a hill overlooking Portorosso, sharing soda pop out of a bottle and watching the sun go down. It’d been perfect and romantic. They’d looked into each other’s eyes and Luca was so sure this would be it, but it seems Alberto lost his nerve and Luca hadn’t wanted to push. The moment hasn’t repeated itself since then. It still makes Luca sort of wistful, but Alberto gets skittish about feelings and probably wouldn’t enjoy talking about it. “I think there was definitely something between us when we were younger. I’m not sure about now.”

“Bullshit. He’s constantly touching you.”

“Alberto’s upbringing was unconventional,” Luca reminds her. “You know he had nobody to teach him social cues. He doesn’t completely understand sea-folk customs or human customs, so really I can only compare Alberto’s behaviour to Alberto.”

“He adores you, though.”

“Yeah. I just don’t know if it’s the same way I adore him.”

The song on the jukebox switches to something upbeat and bouncy. Alberto goes full noodle-limbs, flapping around with abandon purely to make the kids laugh. Luca smiles fondly. Giulia touches his hand, voice unusually gentle. “What’s stopping you from trying?”

Luca lets her squeeze his fingers. “He’s softer than he looks. I don’t want to spook him with something he’s not ready for. And,” he says, frowning into his glass. “I worry. If I ask him out I think he’ll say yes whether he wants to or not. He tries so hard to make people happy. And he’s been through a lot, you know. I’d rather wait for him to tell me he’s interested.”

“I don’t think he will,” Giulia says. “You said it yourself, he’s not good with talking about feelings. He’d be too afraid he’ll scare you off. If you wait for him to make the first move you’ll be single forever.”

“Oh, I know. I’ll become an old maid and spend my days in a cottage by the woods, raising chickens and scaring away local children. They’ll think I’m a witch. Or a bog monster.”

“Luca.”

“It’s just, you know. It’s a big question, if he wants to be with me like that. I think it might only overwhelm him if I ask.”

“Then don’t ask,” Giulia sips her negroni. “You’re smart. There are other ways to find out.”

Step one: the research question.

Luca can admit he doesn’t have that much going for him, but Giulia’s right. He is smart.

He’s also observant. And Alberto’s not hard to read, especially not to someone who’s known him for six years. The only issue Luca has is this: in addition to being mostly ignorant about social subtext, Alberto absolutely refuses to talk about his feelings. This is in direct contrast to Luca, who’d spilled his guts to Giulia the moment he realized he was in love with Alberto. Giulia had informed him that this was obvious. Which is worrying, come to think of it, because that might mean Alberto knows about Luca’s crush and just hasn’t said anything because he doesn’t want to encourage it. It’s a very Alberto thing to do. Ignore the problem until it’s specifically pointed out, and then laugh it off like it was a big joke all along.

Getting the truth out of him will be a problem. Luca taps his pen against his notebook and jots down his first question – is Alberto aware that I am romantically attracted to him?

He stops by one morning, still shaking off seawater and waving hello to the other fishermen docking their boats. Alberto and Massimo have another big haul. Luca waits for them at the pier, holding iced coffees he’d bought on the way. “Hi, Signor Marcovaldo. Hi, ‘Beto. That’s a lot of flounder.”

Alberto perks up. “Luca! Is that for me?”

“Yeah. It’s melting a little, though. Sorry.”

Alberto looks at Massimo. Massimo nods, and Alberto strips off his shirt and dives into the water to swim the rest of the way over. He pulls himself onto the pier shaking himself off like a dog. Water sprays off him in droplets, catching the sunlight and looking like his scales are flying right off him. “Have I ever told you you’re the best?”

“It’s been mentioned. Signor Marcovaldo, shall I take yours home for you?”

“Leave it there, Luca. I’ll get to it. Thank you.”

Alberto stands very close to him. Luca does his absolute best not to stare. Alberto’s grown up a lot since they met; his biceps are twice as thick as Luca’s and his shoulder-to-waist ratio is truly inspiring. A droplet of water snakes its way between his pectorals. It leaves a shimmering lilac line behind it that Luca, embarrassingly, wants to touch.

“You know Signora Russo gave me espresso with a scoop of gelato in it once,” Alberto says. Their fingers brush when Luca hands him his drink. “I didn’t think it would taste as good as it did but it turns out Giulia’s wrong because sweet coffee is the best. Why are you smiling?”

“No reason,” Luca says, trying not to giggle stupidly. “Do you know that you sort of glow in the sun? It looks really good.”

Alberto blinks. He goes curiously pink, scratching the back of his neck and clearing his throat. “Oh. Thanks, I guess.”

“No problem,” Luca says, delighted. This is a possibility he did not foresee – Alberto doesn’t know that Luca is attracted to him, because Alberto doesn’t know he’s attractive. Which is somehow both completely understandable and not at all. Girls flirt with Alberto constantly. But Alberto didn’t meet his first human girl until he was fourteen, so as far as he’s concerned girls are just like that.

They walk back to Massimo’s together. Alberto goes to take a shower and Luca sprints upstairs to take his notebook from its hiding place under Giulia’s bed - is Alberto aware that I am romantically attracted to him? Could I actually have a chance?

Step two: background research.

There is a small hurdle to cross before Luca can go about the tricky business of seducing Alberto Scorfano.

His point from earlier still stands. Alberto might decide to go along with Luca’s crush just because he’s a nice person. The first thing Luca has to do is establish whether Alberto would like to be asked out, or if whatever fledgling romance they had as kids exists only in the past. It’s not unlikely. Alberto’s popular now, no longer a lonely kid stuck on an island, and he may have realized he has more options in the world than just Luca. Ergo, question one: Is Alberto currently single?

“Alberto,” Luca says one day as they’re walking around the town square. Now that Luca’s graduated school they spend a lot of time wandering Portorosso; that might change, if Luca ever decides to go to university like Giulia, but for now it’s just nice to relax. “Are you seeing anyone right now?”

Alberto, to his credit, only pauses for a second. “Why d’you wanna know?”

Why indeed. “I think your coworker has a little crush on you.”

“Massimo?”

“Laura. The lifeguard. She likes to hang out after her shift to chat with you, you know. I think she’s trying to get you to like her.”

Alberto shrugs. “I like her just fine.”

“Like-like her.”

“Eh. I dunno. She’s just being friendly. And anyway she isn’t my type.”

A seagull caws at them from overhead. Luca scrunches his nose – he still hasn’t forgiven that one who tried to attack him while his hands were full of Alberto’s shoddy ramp. “What is your type?”

Alberto scratches his cheek. “I think I’d just want them to be nice. And smarter than me, but that’s not hard. And uhm. I guess I have a thing for brown eyes.”

“That’s most of the people on earth, Alberto.”

“Is it?”

“So you’re single, then?”

“Yes.” Alberto makes a face. “Why are you interrogating me, Paguro?”

Luca grins. “No reason,” he says and skips down the piazza to buy them ice cream.

Question two: does Alberto find me physically attractive?  

This is a harder question to answer. He could ask, he supposes, but Alberto’s likely to give some non-committal answer and change the subject. Instead Luca tries an indirect approach – increase the frequency of physical contact and see if this elicits significant change. So Luca gets touchy. He puts his head on Alberto’s shoulder while they’re at the cinema. He grabs Alberto’s hand to show him things, and once he gets bold and plops himself in Alberto’s lap because Giulia’s taking up most of the couch.

Alberto, unfortunately, doesn’t do much. He doesn’t seem to mind the touching but if it affects him either way Luca can’t tell. Frustratingly ambivalent, he writes in his journal while Alberto’s off on lifeguard duty. “You know, at least if he acted grossed out then I’d know for sure he wasn’t interested.”

“I told you he'd never admit his feelings,” Giulia says. She’s lying upside-down in bed, flipping through one of her textbooks for next year. “And you said it yourself. He doesn’t get social cues. He probably thinks this is normal.”

Luca sighs. He’d found some of Giulia’s nail polish and is slowly turning his toenails blue. “So what am I supposed to do?”

“Stay with me here, Luca. You go up to him…”

“Yes?”

“…and you ask him out.”

Luca throws a pillow at her. “You’re no help. You make this seem easier than it is.”

“I think you’re making it harder than it has to be. And, like, think about this for a second. You’re always hugging and holding hands or whatever. Did you actually think this would make a difference or were you just looking for an excuse to plaster yourself all over him?”

Luca sniffs. “He’s warm and he smells nice.”

“Gross.” She reaches blindly for the plate of cut-up fruit she has on the floor, popping an apple slice into her mouth and managing somehow not to choke despite being upside-down. “Go look through his diary or something if you wanna know that badly.”

Luca pauses, pinky toe still naked. “He doesn’t have a diary. There’s no way.”

“I know he hides something under his bed. He yelled at me once when I tried to go after a pen I’d dropped.”

“Oh my god.” Alberto’s diary. A forbidden look into his private life, a collection of secrets that could bring Luca one step closer to understanding the complexities of his six-year love. “I couldn’t. That would be terrible of me. But it would be a complete paradigm shift. I’d get an all-access pass into the inner machinations of his mind.”

“There are no inner machinations,” Giulia sighs. “Alberto’s head is full of cotton wool and nonsense. Listen, I want to get a start on my astronomy module so if you won’t help me then please go be lovesick somewhere else.”

Luca flounces out, indignant. Alberto’s just coming up the stairs, still in his lifeguard’s tank top and a fine dusting of sand on his shins. “Oh, hey, Luca! Why are your toes blue?”

“I borrowed Giulia's nail polish. She kicked me out of her room so she could study,” Luca huffs. “Are you done with work for the day? If I go home now my dad’s going to make me help clean the crab cages.”

Alberto laughs. His teeth are wonderfully white against the bronze of his face, and he waves Luca up the stairs to his little bedroom in what used to be the attic. “Sure. We can read comics or something. Just give me ten minutes to get cleaned up, okay?”

Luca goes. Being in Alberto’s room always gives him a little thrill, because everything in here screams fun and adventure and makes him think fondly of their old lighthouse. Books and papers are stacked on every flat surface. Posters are tacked crookedly to the walls, and it seems Alberto’s been using his desk to build the start of a tiny engine. Luca pokes at it curiously. Somewhere downstairs, footsteps thump in the direction of the bathroom and a door slams distantly shut.

The pipes gurgle. Alberto’s in the shower and won’t come out for a bit. Luca shouldn’t look under the bed. He won’t, because that would be a gross invasion of privacy and there’s no way he could do such a thing to his best friend. It would be immoral. It would be evil, and Luca parks himself at the desk chair to keep his hands resolutely to himself.

Two minutes later he’s kneeling next to the bed.

There are boxes and shoes everywhere. Heart thumping, Luca feels around until his fingers brush paper. He pulls whatever it is out. And then immediately shoves it back in when he sees a naked person on the front cover.

Holy cow. Holy mother of pearl, Alberto has dirty magazines hidden under here. Dirty magazines! With a man on the cover! Luca puts his face in his hands. Peeks through his fingers, gingerly reaching back into the darkness, somehow sweaty and nervous despite being alone. He examines the first page. There’s a delicate-looking boy sitting on a car, with a wrench in his mouth in a way Luca imagines must be unsanitary. Hands shaking, he flips it open. It’s almost completely full of male models, some burly and some looking soft and coy. None of them are wearing much. One’s winking at the camera, posing in what is probably women’s lingerie that makes Luca immediately skip the page. One spread, he notices, is severely dog-eared at the corner. He goes to that one, red-faced and wide-eyed as he examines the double page. 

The shower downstairs shuts off. Luca shoves the magazine back into the abyss and scrambles for the chair. Alberto’s singing as he comes up the stairs, pausing outside Giulia’s room to say hi.

The door opens. Alberto's in a towel, wiping the last of his scales from behind his ear. "All done. Dude, you okay?" 

"Absolutely. Totally fine. More fine than I've ever been in my entire life, in fact. Why do you ask?" 

"You're, like, red," Alberto says, poking around his dresser for clothes. "More than usual. You look like a cooked lobster." 

Luca’s heart skips a beat. His eyes slide to the bed, thinking about that one spread Alberto evidently likes to flip back to. A young guy on a motorcycle. Slender shoulders and tousled brown hair, with a round face and big, innocent-looking brown eyes.

Luca glances in the mirror and makes a quick mental note.

So Alberto does have a type.

Well, then.

Step three: the hypothesis. 

Alright. Okay. This is a good sign. Given the evidence, Luca can surmise two things. First, Alberto is attracted to boys. Second, Alberto is attracted to boys who look like Luca. This means Luca can say, with reasonable confidence, that Alberto would not be opposed to the idea of Luca coming on to him. 

Still, it never hurts to ask for advice. His mother is absolutely out of the question, but one Sunday Luca drums up the courage to slide across from his grandma while she's reading the newspaper outside the gelateria. "So," he says, bright red but determined. "Let's say you were theoretically trying to get a boy to notice you romantically. What would you do?" 

Grandma takes a long drag of her cigarette. "A blowjob usually helps." 

Luca chokes. "Grandma."

"Practice on something else first. If you press your thumb into your fist you can suppress your gag reflex." 

"I only asked about dating!" 

"Make sure to watch your teeth. And try a sugar-free mint or something, I hear they like the tingle." 

"This was a mistake, I regret everything-" 

"But make sure it's a mild one, because otherwise it'll burn, which isn't a bad thing necessarily but you're probably going to want to ask Alberto if he's into that - "

"Stop-" 

"Oh, and don't forget to use your hands-" 

"Oh my god I'm moving to the marianas trench-" 

"Because you know people always forget about the bal-" 

"Goodbye, Grandma."

Step 4: experimentation. 

Luca does not take his grandmother's advice. He does not even think about his grandmother's advice, shoving it into a box in the corner of his mind to be thrown out at the earliest opportunity (well. Most of it, anyway. Luca is nothing if not a curious creature, so if he does decide to try his hand at deep-throating a banana once, then that's between him and god). Instead he takes this investigation into his own hands. Luca has sat through a lot of romance movies in his life. And women's magazines, at first only because Giulia's mother liked that sort of thing but eventually because he became genuinely invested in Cosmo's 50 hot tips for a movie-star figure. So far he’s still more a plank than an hourglass, but Marilyn Monroe's spirit may see fit to bless his waistline yet. 

Anyway. A core tenet of his reading has involved wooing members of the male species. So Luca compiles an action plan, swallows his pride, and gets to work. 

Strategy 4(a): adopt ladylike mannerisms, such as sitting daintily and occasionally playing with your hair. Boys love to see an impressive, mature young lady with good manners.

Luca chooses not to dwell on the fact that he is a man. Some people have worse flaws and they manage to flirt, so Luca keeps his knees politely pressed together at Massimo's dinner table and repeats dainty! in his mind. He cuts his chicken into tiny bites and dabs his mouth with a napkin. He doesn't mix up his knife hand and his fork hand at all. He titters politely at Giulia's stories instead of spraying milk out of his nose, even when she tells Massimo she tamed a seagull and Massimo tells her that's how she'll die. 

Alberto turns to Luca, chewing with his mouth open like an animal. "Dude, you're hardy eating. You feeling okay?" 

It seems Alberto has also not mixed up his knife and fork, because Alberto has chosen to pull his dinner apart with his bare hands. He's finished everything on his plate already. Luca falters. "I, uh. I'm fine." 

"Kay. You gonna eat your cherry tomatoes?" 

Luca pushes his food over. "Knock yourself out." 

"You are the light of my life."

Luca tries not to look too flustered as runs a hand through his hair, intending to twirl a lock around his finger like he's seen girls do in movies. He realises too late he has too little hair for the intended effect. "I… Thanks." 

Giulia rolls her eyes. "Hey, Alberto. Would you do me a favour and go check on the tiramisu I made earlier? You're better than I am at telling then the amaretto's all soaked through." 

Alberto groans but goes to wash his hands. The second his back is turned Giulia gives Luca a look. Her eyes say what are you doing? Pull yourself together. 

He called me the light of his life, Luca emotes back. 

I'm ashamed of you, says Giulia. 

I'm having a crisis, says Luca.

I'm begging you three to perform your soap opera somewhere other than my kitchen, says Massimo.

Alberto makes a noise of triumph. "Dessert's ready! It looks great, if you ignore the big spoonful I may or may not have taken out of it. Luca, you look like you're dying. You sure you're not sick?" 

Giulia kicks his ankle. Luca physically bites his tongue to stop himself saying something cheesy about being lovesick. "No. I mean, yes. I'm sure. I'm completely fine." 

Alberto shrugs. He continues to not notice any of Luca’s dainty or feminine behaviour the rest of the night. 

He does, however, feed Luca a spoonful of mascarpone from his own portion. 

All things considered, Luca chalks this up to a win. 

Strategy 4(b): pretend to be helpless so he can feel manly. In general, men like to provide for their families. The same applies to your beau – tell him you need his help and he’ll feel special and do his best to rise to the occasion.

Luca plans this one in advance. He places an order for a drinks cooler to bring home to his mother, partly because it'll be useful for storing mussels and things on hotter afternoons. More importantly, he makes sure to get one that's far too big. It'll be heavy and unwieldy, so he'll be conveniently forced to ask Alberto for help  to drag it down to the beach. They'll have to hang onto it together. An excuse to walk side by side, each one gripping a handle while Alberto gently teases Luca for being so silly and along the way they might even brush hands. 

"Alberto." He finds him at Massimo's, since Alberto doesn’t do life guarding on Wednesdays, and pretends to look ashamed. "I need help carrying something. Would you mind?" 

Giulia pokes her head around the kitchen doorway. "I could help." 

"You're not free," Luca tells her. "You have studying to do. Don't waste time, go get smart."

She blows him a raspberry. Alberto finishes patting Machiavelli and stands up. "Yeah, I can do it. Lead the way." 

It's a nice day out, like it usually is. Luca bounces along with excitement as he takes Alberto to the general store. His cooler is half the size of a fridge, solid stainless steel covered in pink enamel. Alberto puts his hands on his hips, appraising. "Wow. This thing's a beast." 

Luca bats his eyes. "Thank you for helping me, Alberto. I didn't realise it would be this big. I didn't know what to do, I'm not strong enough to lift it alone. " 

Alberto smiles. "You know I'm always happy to help." 

"I appreciate it," Luca beams. He reaches for the form on the counter, signing off that he's received his product without issue. "We'll need to carry it together, I think. Mom's in no hurry so we can stop a couple times if we have to. Just take one side and we'll lift on the count of jesus christ."

Alberto blinks. He's got the entire mammoth cooler balanced on his shoulder like it's not 30 by 30 inches of actual metal. His bicep bulges spectacularly. He's not even off-balance, standing there and waiting for Luca to put down his pen. "Ready to go?" 

"I." Luca swallows. The cashier whistles quietly and makes no move to help. Alberto tilts his head, pleasantly confused, while Luca makes a valiant effort not to ogle his bare arms. "That. Are you… okay with that?" 

"Hm? Oh, yeah, it's honestly not as bad as it looks," Alberto says, flexing his other arm jokingly. "Come on! I wanna see your mom's reaction when she claps eyes on this thing." 

"Okay," Luca says faintly. He has some arm muscles of his own. His biceps are alright, in fact, but they don't, like, ripple. "I'm sure she'll be… surprised." 

Alberto bounds off. The cashier gives Luca a silent thumbs up. Luca, feeling like all the blood's rushed from his head to some mysterious places, decides this isn't a win but it's not a loss, either. 

Strategy 4(c): play hard to get. Do not let a boy think you’re desperate for his attention. Make it clear that you are desirable and independent. Not only will he respect you, he’ll become invested in winning you over and proving himself worthy of your attention!

“Wanna go to the cinema?” Alberto asks one evening while Luca’s skimming through the papers. “Look! They’re playing a movie about sea monsters. It’ll be hilarious, I bet Signora Colombo won’t even yell at us for making fun of it and throwing popcorn at the screen.”

“Oh, when?”

“We can go tonight? Giulia’s having a sleepover at Isobella’s place. I don’t think she’d wanna watch it, she gets offended about that kinda stuff on our behalf. I don’t know why. I guess it’s the principal of the thing.”

This is an excellent chance, Luca realises. Humming, he makes a big show of spreading the ads over the cafe table when Alberto points to them. “Oh, gee,” he says, feigning disappointment. “I dunno if I can, tonight. I might be busy.”

“Oh. What’cha busy with?”

Absolutely nothing. “Just, y’know. Farm stuff.”

“Tomorrow?”

“I have plans with – with Giuseppe.”

“Who?”

“He lives near the farm,” Luca says, semi-truthfully. “He’s cute. Not the brightest, though.”

“The day after, then.”

“I’m washing my hair.”

“Underwater?”

“It’s a long story.”

Alberto’s face falls. He fiddles with the edge of the table, not meeting Luca’s eye. “You know if you don’t want to go you can just say so. I was excited to have you back for good but if I’m getting pushy or clingy you can – you can tell me. I won’t get mad. I don’t wanna overwhelm you or anything if you need some time alone.”

Luca cracks immediately. He drops the paper and throws his arms around Alberto’s neck, half-strangling him. He looks so sad. “Oh my god, Alberto, no. Please don’t say that. I love hanging out with you. I missed you terribly. We’ll go tonight. We’ll go right now, in fact.”

Alberto hugs him back, bewildered. “But your plans –”

“Never mind my plans. I’d put the whole world on hold for you.”

“Really?”

“Always.”

Alberto brightens up considerably. “Great! Then let’s go get tickets.”

Luca ruffles his hair. “Of course. We’ll tell Giulia all about it later. I’ll buy popcorn.”

(Strategy 4(c): play hard to get ABSOLUTELY, DEFINITELY NOT WORTH IT.)

Strategy 4(d): Impress him with your looks! Dress up to see him, but not so much that he thinks he’s special. You want him to see that you always look your best whether he’s around or not. Cosmo suggests casual but gorgeous everyday outfits – try sundresses or flowing skirts paired with sensible heels. Minimal makeup is more effective. Stick to eyeliner and the classic red lip.

Luca doesn’t think he’d look good with red lips. Or in a sundress paired with sensible heels, but he understands the spirit of the thing well enough. For the most part his summer clothes are boring shirts and shorts in various patterns. He does have a pair of jeans somewhere, though. He just has to get them from Giulia’s closet, where he stashed them to protect them from seawater. To be honest, he suspects he’s just going to look the same, but all his other strategies have spectacularly failed so he may as well try this one out.

He sneaks into Massimo’s house one day when he and Alberto are still out fishing, gratefully accepting the steaming mug of coffee that Giulia wordlessly gives him. His jeans look better than he remembers. They’re going to be warm, it being the middle of August, but smarter women than he have said that beauty is sacrifice. He finds a pink t-shirt that’s actually slim-fitting enough to be fashionable. The jeans, unfortunately, are far too much so. Luca struggles into them and feels like a grape about to pop.

Giulia blinks when he comes out of her room. “Why do you seem so uncomfortable?”

“I think I outgrew my jeans,” Luca grimaces. The waistband’s cutting into his stomach. “God, when did I even buy these? They’re so tight I feel like a sausage stuffed into a casing. Do I look good, at least? Is my pain worth it?”

“Turn around for me.”

Luca does. “How’s the back?”

Giulia whistles. “If it makes you feel any better, Alberto’s going to really appreciate this,” she says, but doesn’t explain what she means.

By the time Alberto and Massimo come home, Luca’s feeling slightly less like he’s being crushed by a boa constrictor and more like he’s just tangled in a lower-body net. He’s outside helping Giulia prune the basil bush. “Oh, hey!” he calls, standing and waves when he sees the truck putter to a stop in the driveway. “Did you get a good catch today?”

Alberto bounces out of the passenger side and bounds over. “Hey! Yeah! I was swimming around and I saw a shark. Only a little one, though. She ran away as soon as she saw me. What are you guys doing?”

“Alberto,” says Massimo, ever long-suffering. “I have one arm and a lot of fish to carry, my boy.”

“Whoops. One second, I’ll be right back.”

Luca adjusts his clothes while he waits. Giulia rolls her eyes at him and turns on the faucet to fill her watering can. “You look fine, Luca. You know Alberto has no fashion sense. There’s a chance he might not even notice.”

“Don’t say that,” Luca gasps, wounded. “I’m going to have a permanent line around my belly now from my waistband. And you said Alberto would appreciate it!”

“Unrelated,” Giulia says. “Here, he’s coming back. Ask him if he likes your outfit.”

Luca does just that. Alberto shuts the fence gate behind him and hums. “Sure, the pink suits you. Aren’t you warm, though?”

“A little,” Luca says, put-out. “I just wanted a change of pace.”

Alberto shrugs and goes to poke through the gardening tools Giulia left under the tree-house. “I think it looks just fine. You always look great, though.”

Giulia snorts. “Say, Luca. There’s a pair of shears by your feet. Do you think you could bend over and get it for me?”

“Where? Oh. Why do you need shears for watering?”

“Just do it, Paguro.”

“Pushy,” Luca huffs and bends over. His too-tight jeans dig into his hips and stretch over his butt. There's a thunk directly behind him. Luca straightens up and turns. "Alberto? Are you okay?"

Giulia grins horribly. “He just walked straight into the tree.”

“No I didn’t.” Alberto’s forehead is bright red. The rest of his face isn’t much better. “On second thought, I hear Dad calling me. I’ll see you around.”

Luca watches him brisk-walk away. “What was that about?”

“I’ll tell you later,” says Giulia. “But I told you he’d appreciate it.”

Strategy 4(e): gifts. Men don’t have to be the only ones who give out flowers and chocolate. Try getting him a little present to show him that you’re thinking about him.

Now that shouldn’t be a problem. Luca is literally always thinking about Alberto. He doesn’t have much money but luckily Alberto’s taste in gifts isn’t expensive – Luca brings seashells and trinkets and other curiosities he knows Alberto’d like to ponder. Alberto takes every present with a sincere thank you, smiling as he turns it over in his hands. “I feel like you’ve been giving me a lot of stuff lately, Luca.”

Luca shuffles his feet and tries to pretend he hadn’t run up the beach just to hand over a pretty piece of sea-glass. “Do you not like them?”

“I do,” Alberto says and squeezes Luca’s arm. “But you know, you don’t have to give me anything. I appreciate it, but honestly the thing that makes me happiest is just having you here. I missed you, y’know? Seeing you every day is kind of a present in itself.”

Luca almost kisses him right then and there. But they’re in the middle of a crowded beach, so he reins it in, bashfully digging his toes into the sand and being glad his scales don’t show much of a blush. “I missed you too. I just – I wanna give you things sometimes. I just like seeing you smile.”

“Luca,” Alberto laughs. His eyes are happy and green. “You already make me smile. You don’t have to do anything, I promise.”

Step 5: analyse your data and form a conclusion.

Luca is officially out of ideas.

He trudges up the stairs while Massimo’s in the shop and Alberto is off doing his lifeguard thing. Giulia’s reading something at in bed. She takes one look at him and sighs, patting the spot next to her on the mattress. “Alright, what now?”

“This isn’t working,” Luca says and flops face-down. “I can’t tell if he doesn’t know what I’m doing or if he’s just trying to let me down gently. Cosmo’s never steered me wrong before, so why won’t he like me back?”

Giulia pokes him in the ear with an apple slice. Luca bats her away half-heartedly. “I still have no idea why you won’t just ask him out. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“He could hear me!”

“You’re an idiot,” Giulia says, not unkindly. “You’re trying to woo someone who already likes you.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“I know I’m getting sick of you melting all over my house and making calf eyes at him.”

“Be nice to me. I’m experiencing emotions you wouldn't understand. I’m suffering, Giulia. The least you could do is comfort me instead of sitting there in contempt and eating fruit at me like – like a skinny orang utan.”

“Because I’m a red-head? Bastard,” she says and lightly kicks him in the ribs. “Look. Luca. If Alberto didn’t like you, why would he stare at your butt?”

Luca moves to squint at her with one eye. “He doesn’t.”

“Tight jeans. He walked into a tree. Remember?”

“Wh- oh my god. Oh my god, the naughty magazine.”

“What?”

Luca sits bolt upright, knocking some orange slices off Giulia’s plate and making her protest. “I’ve been going about this all wrong! I forgot about my own hypothesis, I’m so stupid.”

“True.”

Luca ignores her. “All this time the answer was right in front of me. I should have been appealing to his baser instincts. Of course the subtle approach wouldn’t work on someone who doesn’t know how human flirting works; I have to aim straight for the body, activate his procreation instincts!”

“Why are you talking about him like he’s the orang utan?”

“Giulia,” Luca says and shakes her shoulders. “I can’t woo him. I have to seduce him. I should have listened to Grandma. I have to follow the wisdom of the naked motorcycle boy!”

She wrinkles her nose. “This sounds like a conversation I want no part of.”

“I’m going all out. I’m so close to a breakthrough, I can feel it.”

He hops off the bed and rummages around in her bookshelf for his secret notebook. Grinning, he sits on the floor and drafts a plan while Giulia studiously ignores him, then pilfers her closet for something his size without asking permission. She throws a slipper at his head. Luca dodges it and scuttles away giggling. Summer’s in full swing and he’s feeling bold, jittery and excited as he lays his clothes out in his room to be worn when the time is right.

Which, as it turns out, is a weekend. Perfect. It’s a scorcher of a day, water feeling warm and syrupy around him as Luca gets ready. Alberto will be finishing up his lifeguard thing at the beach by now. Luca can hear kids playing above. He skirts the beach and swims closer to the piazza, splashing to the surface where he knows Alberto usually parks his Vespa. Sunglasses, check. Overpriced iced coffee from the waterside vendor who raises an eyebrow at him, check. Embarrassingly short shorts and crop top stolen from Giulia that he wouldn't usually be caught dead in, check. He feels absolutely ridiculous. Someone does whistle at him, though, so he supposes he must be doing something right. 

He sits on Alberto's moped and tries not to seem too obviously self-conscious. It's the closest he can get to looking like that boy in the magazine without being arrested for public indecency, but anyway there are girls here in bikinis so Luca’s not too underdressed. And at least the breeze is nice on his bare stomach. His legs’ll be stuck to the seat in five minutes but some sacrifices have to be made for science. And, more importantly, for Luca’s not inconsiderable libido. 

Alberto shows up when Luca’s halfway through his coffee. Luca waves. “Hey! How was work?”

“Hi Luca!” Alberto breaks into a jog, kicking up sand behind him and still damp and scaly from splashing around. He skids to a stop two feet away. His eyes travel down and then abruptly snap back up, smile still half-frozen to his face. “What, uh. That a new outfit?”

Luca straightens up. He stretches his legs in front of him, acutely aware that he’s half-naked in public but also aware it’s too late to turn back now. “Oh, d’you like it? Giulia lent it to me since it’s getting so hot out.”

“It’s very,” Alberto says. “It’s very.”

He doesn’t know where to put his eyes. Yes! Holy shit, yes! Luca slurps his coffee loudly, crossing his legs at the ankles and leaning back so his shirt looks shorter than it is. “You’re looking a little pink there, Alberto.”

“Darn sun,” Alberto laughs slightly too loudly. “So, uh. There a reason you’re sitting on my bike, or…?”

Luca shrugs. “No chairs. Wanna go to your place and play around with it? You promised you’d show me how the engine works.”

“I did, didn’t I. Wanna walk?”

“What? Your Vespa’s literally right here.”

“So it is,” Alberto says, voice tight. “Alright. Cool. Yeah. Hang on, then, I guess.”

Luca beams. He makes sure to plaster himself to Alberto’s back when Alberto sits. They takes off at breakneck speed, tearing through the streets of Portorosso before screeching to a halt in front of Massimo’s house. Alberto springs off the moped, saying something about needing a shower, and Luca takes the stairs up two at a time to burst into Giulia’s room without knocking. “Guess what?”

She lowers her arm. She’d just been about to throw a book at him, Luca realises belatedly. “Santa Maria, don’t just barge into a girl’s room without knocking. What are you so excited ab- are those my clothes?”

“I think I’m getting somewhere,” Luca says, shutting the door behind him and shoving Giulia out of the way so he can sit in bed and giggle madly. “I feel like a tart and I’m pretty sure I got stared at by twenty people but one of those people was Alberto. In a not-digusted way, I think!”

Giulia frowns. “You think?”

“He did sort of run away the second we got here. I’m choosing not to dwell on that.”

“Luca?” Alberto calls from downstairs. “Did you disappear?”

Luca grins, wide and delirious. “Okay. I’m going to go win myself a man. For science.”

Step 6: communicate your results.

Luca discovers four things after that.

One: women’s clothes are a goldmine. Giulia makes him do her laundry because he keeps rifling through her wardrobe, but it’s worth it for steady access to outfits that are exactly the right level of skimpy (that is to say, too much).

Two: Alberto is good at hiding things, but only things he has experience with. Otherwise he’s surprisingly easy to read when you know what you’re looking for.

Three: Alberto has a thing for legs. He likes when Luca looks smaller than he is. He likes when Luca wears Giulia’s clothes, and he really likes when Luca wears Alberto’s clothes. From there it’s not hard to make him blush – all Luca has to do is dress up nice and be a tease.

Four: Luca really, really enjoys being a tease.

Today it’s simple. Those silly short-shorts and a soft button down Luca stole from Giulia, who stole it from Alberto. It drowns him so he has to fold the sleeves over his wrists to use his hands. They’re making gelato today. Alberto explains the steps while Luca loudly eats a popsicle, eyes resolutely on the mixing bowl and not on Luca’s mouth.

“So the flavours can be whatever you want, but the point is the base is the same, right,” says Alberto. “But if you don’t add flavours then it basically just tastes like custard.”

Luca licks sticky purple stuff off his fingers. “Then it just goes in the freezer?”

“Yeah, but you have to keep mixing it every so often or it’ll just turn into ice. Like that… thing you’re eating.”

Luca smiles at him sweetly. “I like popsicles. Wanna share?”

“No thanks,” Alberto says, sounding strangled. “So, uh, let me just – help me measure all this out and then we can get to cooking it.”

Luca does not help. Instead he sits on the counter and kicks his feet while Alberto does all the work, occasionally nudging Alberto playfully with his foot. Alberto doesn’t even bat him away. Luca finishes his popsicle, thumb discreetly pressed into his fist like Grandma told him. “You’re not gonna boil it? You just heat it up?”

“If it gets too hot you’ll end up with scrambled eggs,” Alberto says, whisking vigorously. The saucepan of custard steams gently. “Here, move over. I have to strain this out.”

Luca slides off the counter. “You’re good with your hands.”

“Thanks, I guess. Can you hold the strainer?”

Luca obliges. They’ve picked chocolate, since they both like it, and Luca watches, fascinated, as the pieces at the bottom of the bowl start to melt. He hangs off Alberto’s shoulder shamelessly. “Wow, it already smells good. What now?”

“I mix. Then we let it cool. But you, uh. Have to let go of my arm first.”

“Nah.”

“What do you mean, nah?”

Luca looks up and smiles. “I like being close to you. You’re warm and you smell nice. Like the sun.”

Alberto blinks. “I… need my arms.”

“Do you not like me being touchy?”

“I, uh. I don’t mind it.”

“Get to mixing, then. Don’t let me stop you.”

Alberto manages, albeit awkwardly. Their gelato turns a delightful, woody brown. Alberto taps off the whisk and tosses it in the sink, satisfied. “Huh. Not bad for my second time!”

“Bet it’ll be amazing.”

“One way to find out. Don’t tell the other two,” Alberto says, waggling his eyebrows conspiratorially. He sticks two fingers into the bowl. Licks one, face lighting up at a job well done. “Dude. This might even be as good as Signora Russo’s. You have to try it.”

He’s beaming. He looks so handsome when he smiles, eyes crinkly at the corners and teeth perfectly straight. Luca’s heart flutters. And then he makes split-second decision, leans over, and sucks Alberto’s gelato-covered finger into his mouth.

Alberto’s reaction is fascinating. He chokes on nothing and goes red so fast he actually stumbles, which is information Luca files away for later. “You- Luca. What are you doing?”

Luca blinks, the very picture of innocence. Alberto’s finger had been calloused. And chocolatey. “You told me to taste it.”

“I meant with a spoon,” Alberto splutters. “Seriously, what’s with you? You’ve been acting super weird lately.”

“Weird how?”

“You know,” Alberto says, gesturing to Luca in his entirety. “The clothes and the – and the touching and you’ve eaten so many popsicles.”

“But I like –”

“Do not say you like popsicles again!”

Luca shrugs. It is very, very hard not to smile. “I don’t know what to tell you. Sorry.”

Alberto’s face crumples. He backs away until his hip hits the counter. “Is this – are you making fun of me?”

“What? Why would I be making fun of you?”

Alberto doesn’t answer. He seems upset, though. Luca sighs, approaching with both hands up like he’s trying to calm a spooked animal. “Alberto,” he says imploringly. “I’m not teasing you. Well, maybe a little bit, but not for the reason you think.”

“Then why?”

Luca very carefully considers his options, and then decides fuck it. “I saw something under your bed the other day. A… catalogue, I guess you could call it. Of the not family-friendly variety.”

Alberto blinks. And then it dawns on him, and his expression goes so horrified that Luca would laugh if he were any less nice. “You found one of my rag mags?”

“One of?” Luca asks, and then stops himself. “Yes. I did. I wasn’t snooping – well, okay, I sort of was. But I was looking for something else. Anyway, I noticed you seemed to have a favourite, and that your favourite looked a lot like me. You know what I’m talking about, right?”

Alberto looks like he’s trying his best to melt into the floorboards. “Motorcycle boy,” he whispers.

“Alberto.” His hands are so tight on the counter that he might actually break the surface. Carefully, Luca pries Alberto’s fingers loose and threads his own through them. “I want you to think about this carefully. I saw your magazine. And a little while later I started copying it. Can you think about why that might be?”

“Because,” Alberto says, face flickering through several emotions rapidly. Fear, mortification, realization, shock. He looks Luca up and down almost without meaning to, blinking like he’s just had a paradigm shift and is seeing Luca like a whole different person. “Are you… coming on to me?”

Luca smiles. He lets go of Alberto’s hands and puts his own hands on Alberto’s torso instead, slowly sliding them up to rest on his shoulders. Alberto doesn’t back away. He can’t, realistically, since he’s trapped near the sink, but Luca decides not to bother with semantics. “Is it working?”

Alberto’s hands hover uncertainly. “I – you know – this is – like, I wasn’t expecting – I mean I have thought about – you’re very attractive.”

“Thanks. So are you. But, even if you weren’t,” Luca says quietly. Slowly, he wraps his arms around Alberto’s neck, giving him lots of time to pull away. “I’d still be doing this. Because I like you, Alberto. Not just like this. I’d like to,” he pauses, smiling crookedly. “I’d like to take you out to dinner. Hold hands in public. Take you on dates and tell you I love you every morning. Because I do. Love you.”

“You… love me?”

“Quite a lot, I’m afraid.”

Alberto makes a quiet, whiny noise. Slowly his hands settle on Luca’s waist. “So you, uhm. You mean you want to be in a romantic relationship? With me?”

“If you’ll have me.”

“Of course,” Alberto says, going quiet and soft. “Luca, I – do you really love me? Could you say it again?”

Luca reaches up and kisses his jaw. “I love you, Alberto Scorfano. I have since we were kids.”

“Again?”

“I love you.”

“Again?”

“I love you.”

Alberto hugs him. Luca’s stomach is full of blue butterflies, all flapping so hard he half-thinks he might float away. “Love you too. Always did. Was afraid to say it just in case – just in case.”

Luca smiles into Alberto’s neck. Humming, he leans back just enough to press another kiss to Alberto’s cheek, and then another in the corner of his mouth. “I have an idea.”

“I love your ideas.”

“Then you’re going to love this one.” Grinning, Luca bumps their foreheads together and whispers. “I love you very much and I’m going to remember this tender moment forever. But, I’d really like you to take me upstairs and show me those other rag mags you mentioned. In great detail.”

“Uhm, the gelato-”

“Forget the gelato.”

Alberto swallows. Luca trails kisses up his neck and nibbles his ear. “Alberto. Sweetheart. Am I making you nervous?”

“Uh, yes?”

Luca smiles and kisses him properly, on the mouth. “Good.”

Summer passes them by, time slow and sticky without Luca’s yearly departure hanging over their heads. They can relax, not needing to cram frantic activities to squeeze as much fun as they can out of every day. Giulia’s still leaving, of course. But she’s stronger than Luca ever was, used to keeping things moving and already excited about the start of adulthood. It’s hard to begrudge her going away when she’s clearly so eager for the future. Luca’s still a little sad, obviously, but it’s the kind of sadness he can pack away in a corner to be mulled over later.

They lie on the deserted beach, lounging on blankets and watching the stars. Giulia’s got a stack of books but isn’t studying. Luca lies with his head in Alberto’s lap, pleasantly chilly every time the sea breeze rises. He’s wearing one of Alberto’s shirts again. And the shorts he’d stolen that Giulia has long since given up on trying to get back. “Do you think you’ll be able to see the stars in London?”

Giulia hums, arms folded behind her head like a pillow. “It’s a huge city, so probably not. But it’ll be alright. I’ll get to use the school’s telescope and that more than makes up for it.”

“Wish I could give you one,” Luca says dreamily. He reaches up and makes an O with his hand, trapping a star between his fingers. “I used to imagine that, before I knew what stars were. Before you told me they were fish, Alberto. I wanted to keep a couple in a jar like fireflies.”

“I’d keep any star you gave me,” Giulia promises, and then sits up. “I actually have a going away present for you, I just remembered.”

Luca makes grabby hands. “Gimme!”

“It’s not for you.” She reaches it and gives it to Alberto. It’s a notebook, although Luca can’t make out much else in the dark. “I will call this the great equalizer. With this I’ve once again made things right in the world.”

“How is it equal if I don’t get a present?” Luca pouts. “This is favouritism. You’re being nicer to him just because he’s your brother.”

Alberto flips open the first page. “The scientific method of wooing a boy, by Luca Paguro.”

Luca sits up so fast his spine cracks. “Where the fuck did you get that?”

Alberto’s already darting away. Luca chases him, cursing his short, clumsy legs and tripping over nothing while Alberto avoids him like a sandy flamenco dancer. “Step one: the research question,” he reads aloud. “Is Alberto aware that I am romantically attracted to him? Addendum: consider that Alberto may not know he is attractive (evidence: running around shirtless in public, does not understand why women stare at him. Does not seem to notice me staring at him either). Wow, thanks.”

Luca howls into the night, bright red and fruitlessly trying to bat the book away. “Curse you! Curse your long limbs and quick reflexes! Giulia, why would you do this?”

Giulia rolls onto her side, smug. “Remember when you found his porn stash and bullied him mercilessly for a month? That’s revenge for him.”

“That was for research! It was necessary!”

“Also, remember how you subjected me to hour-long lectures about how my brother looks like a bronzed summer god? That’s revenge for me.”

“Step two: background research. Alberto is popular and attractive,” Alberto repeats gleefully. “Establish he is single – potential competitors include: Laura (lifeguard), Carmen (florist), Bianca (baker’s daughter), Antonio (other lifeguard). You were really serious about getting me to like you, huh, Luca?”

Luca collapses into a miserable heap on the ground. “This isn’t fair. You’ll never see me again, you hear me? I’m moving to the deep ocean to raise crabs and live out my shame in isolation. They’ll be hermit crabs. I’ll be the hermit crab hermit and it’s all your fault.”

“You wouldn’t last a week,” Giulia snorts. “Least of all without Alberto, considering you’re attached at the hip. And now I can make fun of you in front of him. As far as I’m concerned this is an act of self-care.”

Alberto laughs, loud and unselfconscious. He flops onto the blanket and skims the next few pages, grinning. “Oh my god, you listed all your favourite things about me. Really? My hands? No wonder you always insist I spend a half hour fing-”

Giulia throws a handful of sand at him. “Watch it, big brother. Or I’ll keep these sorts of secrets to myself next time.”

Luca whines, face-down in the sand. “I’m divorcing you both. This is the actual worst day of my life.”

Alberto beams. Still giggling, he rifles through Giulia’s stash for a pen and flips Luca’s accursed notebook back a few leaves. “Aw, don’t be like that. I think it’s sweet how much effort you put into this. You could have just asked me out, though. I would’ve said yes.”

“That’s what I said!” Giulia cries. “You see, Luca? Literally all you had to do was tell him but no, you had to do things the hard way instead of communicating like a healthy adult.”

Luca puts his face in his hands and curls up. “I hope I get reborn as a sea urchin. I hope I lose my memory tomorrow in a fiery Vespa explosion.”

Distantly, pen scratches against paper. Something gently smacks him in the forehead, making Luca grumble and crack one eye open. Alberto’s leaning over him, laughing. His smile’s a little softer, less gleeful and more hopelessly fond. “I’d prefer if you didn’t get into any fiery accidents. It’d be pretty inconvenient to be your boyfriend if you couldn’t even remember me.”

“You’d deserve it,” Luca says sourly. Alberto taps him with the book again, so Luca grudgingly takes it. Under the night sky, pouting in the sand with two of his favourite people on earth, he opens his notebook to the very first page.

Could I actually have a chance? Yes, you beautiful idiot. You were always the only one who did.