Chapter Text
One. February 2019. Milan.
The first time she met Damiano, Måneskin was on their first big tour and they passed through Milan to play a show. She had the best time watching them perform, but it was only hours later that they actually met.
Never ever had she expected the band to walk into the hole in the wall bar she frequented, but there they were. Casually strolling up to the bar, laughing and joking amongst themselves. They attracted attention from the moment they entered, but Italy never really cared for rock and roll, so the clientele of the bar, mostly older people, let them be.
Then again, she definitely also never ever expected Damiano David to buy her a drink. Yet, an hour after the band had walked in, the bartender replaced her empty glass with a new, full one. When she looked up at him in question, there was a smirk playing on his lips. “He told me to get you a new one of whatever you were drinking, his treat,” he explained briefly, nodding his head to the other side of the bar.
When she glanced in the direction the bartender had pointed at, she found Damiano staring at her. He smiled and raised his glass at her when he caught her eyes. He had been licking his lips just at she had looked and she needed a moment to collect herself, swallowing a lump in her throat and pushing her thighs tightly together, before she could return the gesture and mouth a ‘thank you’ in his direction. The intensity he radiated made her weak in the knees.
Not much later, still recovering from his gaze, she felt someone slid onto the bar chair next to her. “So do you come here often?” She looked up from her phone to find Damiano smiling at her confidently.
“I’ve taken quite a liking to this place,” she easily admitted before taking another sip of the drink he provided her with earlier. Then she elaborated, “It’s not very far from my apartment and not far from University either. The crowd is very laid back and I know a few of the bartenders from my classes. I like to come here because I know they will serve me good drinks. And I can simply sit here and enjoy the liquor and the peacefulness with being completely alone.”
His face immediately fell, but it took him getting up for her to realize the implications of her words. “Oh no, that’s not what I mean,” she was quick to explain. She put a hand on his arm to stop him from leaving. “It’s not because I like to have a drink on my own that I don’t like company.”
Damiano visibly relaxed and she waited for him to sit down again before continuing, “Although, everything depend on the company of course.” She took another sip of her drink and made sure to hold his gaze with hers. “I guess it’s up to you to prove you are worth my time. So tell me, what do you have to offer, mister David?”
She did her best to sound much more confident then she felt, but Damiano clearly wasn’t fooled. He was biting his lip again and when he finally broke eye contact, it was to lean in and whisper into her ear, “Oh dolcezza, I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised by what I have to offer.”
When she followed him outside not much later, she quickly found out he hadn’t been lying. Initially they were just going for a smoke, but within minutes she found herself trapped between his body and the wall of the bar. The cold bricks did nothing to cool her down as Damiano’s lips moved from hers to her neck and then further down to her collar bone.
“I’m not normally one to do this.” The words rolled of his lips while little nibs at her exposed skin made them very hard to believe. “But didn’t you say your place wasn’t far from here?”
Her breathing was heavy and irregular when she answered him, “I’m not either. But this mess between my legs is all your fault and I need you to take care of it!”
His smirk was all the answer she needed to push him off, only to grab his hand and start dragging him in the direction of her apartment.
When she woke up the next morning, she took a minute or two to study his sleeping face. He looked so relaxed and peaceful, looked almost too young to be the same guy whose moans had echoed off her walls the night before. Who gave her not one but three amazing orgasms that night before chasing his own high.
For a moment, she allowed herself to think she could get used to waking up like this. But she quickly shook off the thought. That was the postorgasmic bliss still talking. In the end, he was on his way to becoming a famous rockstar and she was just a random stranger he met in a bar. She knew how these things worked.
So she got dressed, careful not to wake him. She left him a note, telling him to help himself to anything he could find in the fridge for breakfast and thanking him for the amazing night, before she left for her morning classes.
He was gone when she came back home and she couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that now she would have to take care of the ache between her legs on her own again.