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The sun touched Damiano’s face as it crept over the buildings facing the hotel. It was a sunday, it was early, the streets were still mostly deserted. Damiano breathed in the outside air deeply. It still held the moisture of early morning.
He was seated on the floor of his balcony. He had pushed the chairs to the side and dragged the duvet outside to sit on, put down a row of pillows against the wall. He leaned back and closed his eyes.
Management had texted that their flight was delayed by eight hours. Something inside Damiano wanted to be mad, annoyed, he wanted to go home. But there was nothing to be done about it and he didn’t have the energy to be frustrated. This tour had crashed over him like a tidal surge, and after surfing it to its very end he was left flat on his back on the beach, hoping that he could just enjoy the sun a while and someone would come put him back on his feet once it was truly necessary.
He didn’t open his eyes when, some time later, he heard the balcony door open.
A brief flicker of black over his vision as soft footsteps moved past him. The sound of a lighter, a sigh.
The other didn’t come sit.
Damiano opened his eyes, squinting a little. Ethan was leaning on the balcony railing, quietly smoking, a tension about his shoulders.
Tour wore all of them out at some point.
He had seen how closed off Ethan’s face had been after their second interview the day before. He knew Ethan had just about had it.
And, the way this always went, yesterday Damiano had just about had it with Ethan. He struggled seeing the other man struggle, which elevated both their stress levels to the point that they could only snap at each other. A pattern between them that they were both very familiar with.
Ethan turned around as if he felt Damiano’s gaze.
Damiano spread his legs, patted the space between them.
For a moment, Ethan didn’t move.
Really? his posture seemed to say.
Then he stubbed out his cigarette and stepped closer, turned around as he sat down between Damiano’s legs.
There was a lot that Damiano could say, but it was nothing that hadn’t been explicated before, no apologies that hadn’t been genuinely expressed before. There was nothing words would add at this point.
The truth was, in moments without outside pressure, they loved each other easily.
Damiano’s hands found Ethan’s shoulders, applying gentle pressure as he rubbed them, trying to soothe. Ethan let his head hang.
Finally, Damiano wrapped his arms around the other man’s chest and pulled him close. Ethan shifted a little and made himself comfortable, his head resting on Damiano's shoulder, his eyes closed. Damiano brought his legs closer together, wrapping Ethan up in him entirely.
Quiet minutes passed, the feeling of exhaustion now mingling with affection in a way that made Damiano feel a little bit less lost, a little bit lighter.
The balcony door opened again. Damiano opened his eyes to find Thomas standing there with sleepy eyes, messy hair. A smile found its way onto Damiano’s lips. He lifted his arm from where it had been resting on Ethan’s chest, reaching for Thomas, asking for touch.
Thomas smiled back, taking Damiano’s hand in his own and squeezing it.
Seeing Thomas smile like that never failed to make Damiano feel happy. The way Thomas plopped down next to them and put his head on Damiano’s free shoulder made him even happier.
Ethan hadn’t opened his eyes, but now sighed and moved a hand onto Thomas’ leg. Thomas covered it with his own.
The three of them soaked in the sun and each other.
Finally, the door opened again. Victoria, looking even more ruffled than Thomas, was clutching her key card to Damiano’s room in a tense hand.
“Eight hours?! What a crappy fucking morning, I can’t believe-”
She stopped. Three startled faces stared at her as if they had been rudely shaken from a state of slumber.
“Oh. Sorry,” she mumbled. “Sorry.”
“Come here,” Thomas said, reaching out a hand.
“I should leave you guys to it. I’ll go yell at someone else.”
Thomas shook his head. “Come here.”
Victoria let herself be tugged down between Thomas’ legs, and she leaned into him sideways, facing Damiano and Ethan, nuzzling his neck with a sad sigh. “I’m really grumpy,” she murmured.
“It’s okay.”
She settled into him with a deep, sad sigh.
Damiano smiled. He knew that the true peace of this moment was over, even if Victoria’s loud energy would be somewhat subdued by their own. But he could live with that.
Thomas had started combing his long fingers through Victoria’s hair.
Ethan stirred. Damiano squeezed him closer, pressed his lips to his temple in a lingering kiss.
When he looked up, Thomas was gazing at him. Damiano leaned over, not quite sure where his kiss would land. Thomas met it with his lips. They felt soft and pliant under Damiano’s own as the sun caressed both their faces.
“Sweet,” Victoria mumbled.
“You want a kiss too?” Damiano offered.
She sat up and leaned over to him to answer that question.
Then she gently touched Ethan’s face. “Hey, hot stuff. You with us?”
“Mmmyes,” came the soft answer. Ethan opened his eyes and gave her a little smile. “Damiano gives good hugs.”
She smiled back, leaned in to kiss the side of his mouth. “I love you.” Then she turned to Thomas, took his face in her hands, and kissed him too. “I love all of you. So much. Even when I’m fucking grumpy.”
Damiano just smiled. Leave it up to Victoria to say out loud what they’d all been telling each other without needing any words.
“We need to figure out what we’re going to do for the next eight hours.”
Thomas groaned softly, pulled her to him. “Can you just be quiet? Two more minutes. It’s so nice out here.”
“Okay. Fine,” she sighed, burying her face in his neck.
Damiano felt Ethan’s chuckle more than he heard it.
They knew she would try.
Thomas had started petting Victoria’s hair again.
Damiano tugged Ethan’s hair free of its bun and let his fingers tangle in it, massaging his scalp a little. A soft sound escaped Ethan’s lips.
If he really was washed up on the shore, he was at least there with his best friends. And he knew they’d all pick each other up once it was time to get moving.