Work Text:
“It’s your birthday.”
Luca furrowed his brow. “Yeah, I know that. I know when I was born.”
Legs swinging over the edge of the tower, Giulia smacked his arm. “You know that’s not what I mean.”
“Okay, I guess.” He was wearing his new sandals today to mark the occasion. Soft and brown with cords that he wound around his legs to secure them, the fabric felt buttery against his skin. All he needed was wings at the edges of his sandals, and he’d be like Hermes, messenger of the gods. Alberto had given them to him the night before in their treehouse, wrapped up in a recycled cake-tin with a bow on top.
She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m trying to tell you happy birthday, you idiot.”
“Oh. Thanks, Giulie. That’s nice of you.”
Shaking her head and muttering something about idiot fish, she just laughed. “Don’t mention it.”
“Although I’m not technically seventeen yet.” Technicalities were important. Details were vital when he didn’t want to mess up an experiment at school. “I only turn seventeen this afternoon.”
He watched the sun make its slow ascent across the horizon, tinting the water orange-gold. “What does it feel like, being seventeen?”
Giulia was two and a half months older than him and never failed to remind him. She shrugged, flipping a riot of red curls behind her back. “I don’t know. The same as before, I guess. I don’t really feel much older or more different than before.”
“You’ve changed, though,” he pointed out. Over the past few years, she’d grown out her cropped red curls into a fiery waterfall down her back, barely contained by the blue silk scarf she often wore. Striped shirts had fallen out of favour and loose low-cut overalls over white cotton shirts had taken their place, and, more often than not, her ears were adorned with dangling gold earrings.
She waved a breezy hand. “To quote Alberto, I just look like a fashionable pirate now. That doesn’t mean I’m a different person.”
Luca looked down at his own well-worn flannel shirt. Maybe he should invest some time into becoming a fashionable pirate, too.
“You’re such an idiot,” Giulia laughed, reading his expression. “You’re not obligated to change the way you look just because you’re seventeen- excuse me, turning seventeen.”
He kicked his feet out petulantly and lay back on the floor of the tower. Damn it, he should’ve brought their cushions from the treehouse over. “Everything’s changed. And I’m not changing along with them.”
“Are we having another talk about Alberto?”
He glared at her. She quirked an eyebrow in return.
Sighing, he rolled onto his side, the wooden floor so polished from years of use that it felt smooth against his cheek. “Is there something wrong with me?” he asked, sotto voce. He stared resolutely at a spot on the wall so he wouldn’t have to look at her.
“ Mio caro amico ,” Giulia sighed, and he felt a warm hand on his back between his shoulder blades. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, okay? You know you don’t have to force yourself to grow up or act a certain way to get people to like you, right? I think it’s wonderful that you’re so very…Luca-like.” She laughed and he felt her hand on his back shake.
He turned to face her. “That makes no sense.”
“Trust you to insult me when I’m trying to comfort you.”
“That wasn’t an insult!” he protested, sitting up. “That was, um. Very nice of you to say?”
The corners of her lips quirked up into a smile. “You just ruined it.”
“What did our conversation have to do with Alberto, anyway? Why did you ask if we were going to talk about him again?”
She snorted. “What, you’re trying to tell me you don’t know?”
“What?”
She shook her head, the pearls on her earrings shaking with the movement. “That’s not something I can tell you, then. You have to figure it out for yourself.”
“Giulie, figure out what ?” Oh, God, was she talking about his crush on Alberto? No, there was no way she knew about that.
Right?
Grinning blithely, she shrugged and nimbly ducked down the ladder of the tower, the rocky sand crunching as she landed neatly. “Time to go home, don’t you think? Papa will be expecting us.”
He narrowed his eyes and climbed down the ladder at a much more sedate pace. He preferred all his limbs intact, thank you very much. “Are you trying to change the subject?”
“Is it working?”
She unwound the rope tethering her little blue rowboat to a rock. “Come on, race you to the shore!”
She was definitely trying to change the subject. Because there was no way in hell that a human on a rowboat could ever beat a sea creature swimming. He grinned. “Can I get your pancakes if I win?”
“ Piccola merda!”
With a grin, he scampered across the beach and launched himself into the air into a perfect arc before splashing into the water.
“Show-off!” he could hear Giulia yell above the water, and he chuckled to himself as he rocketed through the waves. This was shaping up to be quite a pleasant day.
Even if he still had no idea what on earth Giulia meant about Alberto. He didn’t talk about him that much. Did he?
♡
Portorosso was already a bustling hub of activity by the time they arrived at the shore, Giulia puffing furiously and trying badly to disguise it. “I- regret- everything,” she gasped, flinging her oars down and shaking out her arms. “What made me think a race was a good idea?”
“It’s your competitive streak,” he said smugly. “Now, do I get your pancakes or not?”
“Not,” she said automatically, mooring her boat with precise, automatic movements. “ Technically I never agreed to the conditions. Technicalities are important, remember?”
He scowled at her. She grinned back. “Admit it, I’m too smart for you.”
He didn’t dignify it with a response. The sunlight was warm on his back as they ambled through the square, and he admired the way his sandals looked as he walked. Alberto really knew how to give a thoughtful gift. He’d have to thank him for them again later.
Their footsteps fall soft on the dewy grass sprouting across the yard. With a frown, Luca notes that the house’s windows are dark, the curtains tightly drawn. “Is Massimo out?” Not on a Sunday, surely?
With a shrug and a suspicious twitch of her lips, Giulia drew out the key tucked into her blouse. “Maybe he’s just sleeping in.”
She pushed open the door, and Luca followed, slightly uneasy. Massimo made a point of rising with the sun, and Alberto, though extremely appreciative of a good kip, was usually bustling around the house making breakfast and waking everyone up with his terrible singing by this time.
Well. It wasn’t all that terrible, really, despite what Giulia might say. Luca remembered the heart attack he nearly had that first time when he stumbled upon Alberto in the kitchen in a red chequered apron and a tank top so tight it should be illegal, humming merrily as he set the plates.
The living room was dark when they entered. Giulia’s keys clunked as she took off her necklace and deposited them, chain and all, into the glass bowl on the sideboard.
Luca scanned the dark outlines of the furniture. “Where is everyone?” Sundays were pancake days, and he wasn’t keen on missing out.
All of a sudden, the lights switched on and a veritable crowd jumped up from behind the sofa. “Happy birthday!”
Alberto stepped out and enveloped Luca into a hug. “Oh my god,” he said disbelievingly into the crook of Alberto’s neck. “Beto!”
His friend patted his back, pulling back with a huge grin on his face. “Do you like it?”
Now that his eyes had recovered from the initial shock, he could see that the room had been festooned with streamers and banners and balloons- how had he missed all that in the dark?- and there was a huge cake in the centre of the dining table with teal frosting and strawberries and giant lettering that said Happy birthday, Luca!
“I love it,” he breathed, as his family and Massimo came around to wish him many happy returns of the day. Hugs were freely dealt and by the end of it, his hair was thoroughly ruffled.
“My baby boy, all grown up,” his mother said tearfully as his father smiled sheepishly and patted her arm. “Don’t mind her,” he mock-whispered to Luca, earning an (undoubtedly painful) elbow to the ribs.
Beside him, Alberto chortled. Grabbing his hand, he pulled him over to the sofa. “All right, I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough of your grandmother going on about how seventeen is a lucky number.”
In the corner of the room, Massimo, who had been conversing with said grandmother, suddenly turned and gave Alberto a reproachful look, as though he’d known exactly what he’d said. Alberto grinned sheepishly. “Oops.”
Juggling three glasses of punch, Giulia made her way over to them. “I don’t know what you put in these, but they taste amazing ,” she gushed, and Alberto preened.
Luca laughed. “You just mixed a bunch of fruit juices together and hoped for the best, didn’t you?”
He made a face. “More or less,” he agreed, and they dissolved into giggles.
“I’m friends with a bunch of idiots,” Giulia said. They elected to diplomatically ignore her.
“So? What great plans are on the agenda for this year?” Alberto leaned back on the sofa and stretched his arm out behind Luca, who most certainly didn’t lean into the touch.
He grinned. “Road trip? Just a small one, but a picnic day somewhere far away would be really nice.”
Alberto lit up. “I’ve been working on the blueprints for our next Vespa. We’re definitely getting it right this time. Tower after lunch?”
Luca readily agreed, despite having just been there. The tower always had a different, lighter sort of atmosphere whenever it was in Alberto’s effervescent company.
“Do these plans involve riding the Vespa off a cliff?”
With a mock glare, Alberto gave Giulia a shove. “Go get more punch and stop being annoying.”
“I’m not actually your little sister, you know. I’m older than you. Three days!” But she got up nonetheless, taking their glasses with her.
“Insignificant,” Alberto dismissed. His hazel eyes gleamed green in the light. (That was unfair. Luca wished he had colour-changing eyes.)
“Cake, children!” Luca’s mother called from the dining table, and Alberto eagerly got up, pulling Luca with him. “Did you see the icing?”
“Yeah, of course- wait, you made this cake?”
“Obviously.” For all his nonchalance, he made no effort to hide his preening. “It’s chocolate flavoured.”
“It looks amazing.”
“I know.”
Luca huffed out a laugh. “Arrogant idiot.”
“I’ll take it as a compliment.”
“Of course you would,” Giulia interjected exasperatedly from the other side of the table, lighter already in hand. “How many candles do you want, Luc?”
“Just one is good, thanks.”
“I got you all seventeen, just in case,” Alberto clarified, waving a hand at the frankly enormous pile of them on the table. “We can save the rest, I guess.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Luca told him fondly, and Alberto grinned back.
Massimo cleared his throat. “All right, everyone, time to sing Luca Happy birthday .” The solitary candle was lit, courtesy of Giulia, and the lights switched off.
Luca barely refrained from hiding his face in his hands as everyone enthusiastically clapped and sang. “Thanks,” he murmured, his face hot. “Thanks, everyone.” Despite the slight embarrassment of having all eyes on him, though, his heart felt fuller than it ever had. In the semi-darkness, the rosy glow of the candle lit up the smiling faces of his loved ones around him, and he sent a quick thank-you up to his lucky stars for whoever deemed his worthy of the family he had.
Alberto slung a hand around his shoulder. “Make a wish, Luc!” His eyes shone in the candlelight. Green with a little bit of gold this time.
With a smile, Luca closed his eyes and blew out the candle.
♡
“Did you like your party?”
Luca and Alberto were sitting cross-legged in the treehouse on their shared mattress, both sated from their lunch of chocolate cake and, upon Luca’s mother’s insistence, sandwiches with salad.
“Of course I did. Thanks for that, Beto.” Luca smiled at him before leaning back on the overabundance of pillow propped up against the treehouse wall. “It was magical.”
“It wasn’t much,” Alberto demurred, and Luca laughed. “It’s not like you to be modest. That cake was amazing.”
“I’m a culinary genius, yes.”
“And he’s back.” They grinned at each other.
“Wanna see something cool?” Without waiting for a reply, Alberto got up and pulled the tarp over the top of the treehouse. Over the years, it’d transformed from a mere plank of wood nestled amongst the branches to a proper little house with wooden walls, a functioning door and a detachable roof formed from a thick tarp rigged over it that blocked out the light.
Luca heard the clink of glass as Alberto removed something from the shelf on the wall. “What’s all this?”
There was the snick of a match as a candle flared to life, lighting up the interior of the treehouse. Alberto grinned up at him. “I figured we should make good use of those sixteen candles.”
He carefully stuck the candle into the cup- so that was what he took- and quickly lit up the others, placing them in a semicircle around the bed. With his back turned, Luca drank in the sight of his muscled back and arms. His hair, like Giulia’s, had grown long, but he kept it in a messy bun, the sight of which drove Luca crazy.
He swallowed, then hastily schooled his expression as Alberto turned around again with an exaggerated flourish. “All done!”
Settling down amongst the pillow, he turned to face Luca. “All jokes aside. I know you don’t think you’re good enough, or grown-up enough for me, or Giulie, or your friends at school.” Luca’s eyes widened as he took his hand slightly awkwardly. “Um. I just wanted to tell you that you’re amazing, just the way you are.” Was that a blush on his cheeks? “So. I hope you let go of those insecurities this year.”
“Beto,” Luca breathed, and if it was possible, Alberto got even redder. He looked down at their joined hands, but made no effort to pull away. “I-”
Luca took one look at his face and flung caution to the wind. “You’re perfect,” he whispered, and kissed him.
Alberto made a small sound of surprise as their lips collided, but his hands came up almost immediately to cup Luca’s face, thumb gently stroking his cheekbone. Their noses bumped as they pulled apart for air, and they both laughed.
“Your eyes are gold,” Luca blurted, and Alberto beamed. “I- really?”
Luca ducked his head. “Yeah, really. They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
Alberto leaned in and nudged his nose with his. “Shut up. You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”
His hand slipping to tangle in Luca’s curls, he pressed their foreheads together. “You’re blushing.”
“Shut up. And kiss me again.”
With a chuckle that Luca could feel, Alberto dipped his head. “That I can do.”
Their second kiss was slower than the first, a gentle push-pull of lips that Luca giddily relished. “Best birthday present ever,” he told Alberto, who, instead of looking smug as he’d expected him to, blushed down to his chest. Luca adored this shy, loving version of Alberto.
“I”- he pressed a kiss to his nose- “love”- another to his forehead- “you.” A third peck on his lips. “You know I wished for you when I blew out my candle, right?”
Alberto’s face was flamed. “I. Um. Love you too. Obviously.”
“You’re cute.”
“Oh my god, shut up,” he groaned, grabbing Luca by the lapels of his jacket. “I’m going to die if you don’t kiss me right now.”
“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Flirting. He was flirting with Alberto like it was nothing.
“Oh, definitely,” Alberto agreed seriously, and proceeded to kiss him senseless.
And with a thrill, Luca realised that, from now on, this wouldn’t just be his birthday. It would be his and Alberto’s anniversary.
And that, he thought, was a day far more worthy of celebration.