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Daniele stumbled out of the bar, wincing as he pressed a napkin against his nose to stem the flow of blood. Ilo and Vittorio followed close behind, each nursing their own injuries from the brawl. The night had started with good intentions, a simple evening out to help Ilo cope with his recent breakup, but it had ended in chaos and violence.
Ilo had a deep cut on his cheek, a testament to a broken bottle that had come too close for comfort. Vittorio sported a rapidly swelling black eye, the result of a well-aimed punch from one of the other patrons. And Daniele, with blood still trickling from his nose, had taken the brunt of the assault, his face throbbing with pain.
"Damn, that escalated quickly," Vitto muttered, gingerly touching his eye. "Are you okay, Dani?"
Daniele nodded, though it was more to reassure his friends than a reflection of how he truly felt. "I'll be fine. It's just a bloody nose."
Ilo shook his head, his expression a mix of regret and frustration. "This was supposed to be a night to forget about my problems, not add to them."
Daniele clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Don't blame yourself, Ilo. That guy was looking for a fight. We just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."
—
Daniele sat at the dimly lit bar, nursing his drink and trying to offer words of comfort to Ilo, who was in pieces over the end of his relationship. Vittorio was there too, attempting to lighten the mood with his usual jokes, but the sadness in Ilo's eyes was unmistakable. Amidst the crowd full of lively people, music that bursted so loudly through the speakers that you could feel the vibrations on the table, drinks that flowed continuously, Daniele could not help but have his mind drift to the coziness of Andrea’s bed.
Now don’t get him wrong. He loved his friends more than anything and would always be there for them. But there was something about Andrea… his beauty, his charm, his intelligence, the way he would know the most random stuff… Call him a simp but Daniele probably prioritized his beautiful boyfriend above the world.
They had seen each other this morning and were together for the whole day till Daniele received a call from Vitto asking him to come out because Ilo was going “fucking crazy” and “sobbing unconsolably” and what not. Daniele looked beside him to be greeted with Andrea’s sleeping self and it took God level self-control to not ignore Vitto’s request and just stay in bed with him. He had promised Andrea that he would be back within two hours, at max.
"Guys, I just don't know what went wrong," Ilo muttered, staring into his glass, and breaking Daniele from daydreaming about his boy. "One moment we were fine, and the next..."
"You don't have to figure it out all at once, Ilo," Daniele said softly, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Breakups are hard. We're here for you."
Vittorio nodded in agreement. "Yeah, man. We'll get through this together."
The bar was crowded, a mix of locals and students, all looking for a way to unwind. Daniele was about to take another sip of his drink when he felt a cold splash on his back. He turned around to see a drunk man swaying unsteadily, having spilled his drink all over him.
"Hey dude! Watch where you're going!" Vittorio shouted, standing up and glaring at the man.
The drunkard scowled, not at all apologetic. "What's your fucking problem, asshole?" he slurred, pushing Vittorio.
"Just apologize and move on," Daniele said, trying to defuse the situation. "No need to make this a bigger deal."
The drunkard sneered and lunged at Vittorio, swinging wildly. Vittorio dodged the first punch, but the situation quickly escalated. Daniele stood up, trying to separate them, but the man shoved him back hard.
"I said, move on!" Daniele raised his voice, trying to assert control. But the drunkard, fueled by alcohol and aggression, was beyond reasoning.
The next punch came out of nowhere, catching Daniele square in the nose. Pain exploded in his face, and he staggered back, feeling blood start to trickle down. He saw Ilo trying to pull Vittorio away, but the fight had drawn the attention of other patrons, and chaos ensued. Bodies pressed in, fists flew, and shouts filled the air.
Daniele managed to catch his breath and jumped back into the fray, trying to pull the drunkard off Vittorio, who was now grappling on the floor. He took another hit to his side, wincing at the impact, but didn't relent. He grabbed the man by the collar and pulled him back with all his strength.
"Enough!" Daniele shouted, his voice hoarse. "Break it up!"
The bartender finally intervened, aided by a couple of bouncers. They hauled the drunkard away, still struggling and cursing. Vittorio was pulled to his feet by Ilo, who had a split lip but seemed otherwise unharmed.
Daniele's head was pounding, his vision blurry. He touched his nose and winced at the sharp pain. Blood smeared his hand.
"We need to get out of here," Daniele muttered, his voice thick with pain. "Before they call the cops."
—
"Are you okay?" Ilo asked, concern etched on his face despite his own injuries.
"I'm fine," Daniele lied, pulling out his phone. There were multiple missed calls from Andrea. He opened his messages and saw a string of texts:
[Andre]
Dani, where are you?
Why aren’t you picking up?
I'm getting worried.
Please call me back.
Daniele, this isn't fucking funny.
FUCKING ANSWER ME.
Daniele's thumb hovered over the screen, but he couldn't bring himself to respond. He knew Andrea would be furious, and he didn't have the energy to face that right now.
"Come on, let's get you home," Vittorio said, wrapping an arm around Daniele's shoulders.
Daniele nodded, his mind a haze of pain and guilt. He let Vittorio and Ilo guide him, their concern a small comfort as he ignored another incoming call from Andrea. The messages kept coming, each one more frantic than the last.
[Andre]
Dani, if you don’t answer, I’m coming to find you.
I'm serious, Daniele.
WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?
Daniele sighed again, feeling the weight of Andrea's worry through the words on the screen.
"Is it Andrea?" Vittorio asked, noticing Daniele's expression.
"Yeah," Daniele replied, wincing as he moved the napkin from his nose. "I can't tell him what happened. Not yet."
"He's going to find out sooner or later," Vitto pointed out, adjusting the makeshift bandage on his forehead. "Better he hears it from you."
"I know," Daniele said, reluctantly dialing Andrea’s number. "But not like this. Not when I'm a mess."
—
Back at Daniele's apartment, the reality of the situation hit hard. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, his nose swollen and bruised, dried blood crusted around his nostrils. He winced, both from the pain and the thought of Andrea seeing him like this.
His phone buzzed again, and this time he saw a different message:
[Andre]
Okay that’s it. I'm coming over.
Be there in half an hour.
Daniele's heart sank. He knew there was no hiding now. He quickly tried to clean himself up, splashing water on his face and wiping away the blood as best as he could. He didn't want Andrea to worry, but it was too late for that. His mind drifted to the last fight he had and how livid Andrea had been, seeing his injured face.
—
T he bar had been lively, filled with the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and the steady beat of music. Daniele, Ilo, and Vittorio were enjoying their night out, deep in conversation and relishing each other’s company. They had just raised their glasses for a toast when their attention was drawn to a scene unfolding near the bar.
A group of rowdy, drunk men had surrounded a boy dressed in a bright summer dress. The boy’s face showed clear discomfort as the men jeered and laughed, their words dripping with malice.
"Hey, pretty boy, what’s with the dress? Trying to get some attention?" one of them sneered, his friends cackling behind him.
The boy looked around, clearly distressed but trying to stand his ground. "Just leave me alone," he said, his voice trembling slightly but determined.
"Oh, come on," another man said, stepping closer. "We’re just having a bit of fun."
Daniele could see the fear and discomfort in the boy’s eyes. The scene hit a bit too close to home. He exchanged a look with Ilo and Vittorio, a silent agreement passing between them. They couldn’t stand by and do nothing. They all knew what was going on in each other’s mind and it was as if the scene was choreographed when they rose from their seats at the same time and made their way to the group.
"Hey, why don’t you back off and leave him alone?" Vittorio called out as they approached, his voice cutting through the noise.
The men turned to face them, their expressions shifting from amused to hostile. "And who the hell are you?" the first man demanded, crossing his arms.
"None of your fucking business," Daniele said, his voice steady but filled with resolve.
"Cut it out boys!," another man snarled, stepping forward in a threatening manner.
"Just walk away," Ilo added, trying to keep his tone calm but firm.
The leader of the group scoffed and took a threatening step towards them. "Or what?"
Before anyone could react, Vittorio was shoved hard, stumbling back into a table and knocking over drinks. That was the breaking point.
"Enough!" Daniele shouted, throwing the first punch. It connected solidly with the jaw of the man who had shoved Vittorio, sending him reeling back.
Chaos erupted. The bar transformed into a melee of flying fists and shouts. Daniele found himself in the thick of it, ducking and weaving to avoid blows while landing a few of his own. He felt a sharp pain as a fist connected with his cheek, but he pushed through, retaliating with a punch to the ribs of his attacker.
Nearby, Vittorio was grappling with two men at once. He managed to land a solid punch on one, but the other caught him off guard with a blow to the side of his head, causing him to stagger. Ilo, despite his smaller frame, was holding his own against another man, but he was soon overwhelmed, a punch splitting his lip and a second one landing on his stomach, doubling him over.
Daniele barely had time to react as another attacker closed in, swinging a beer bottle. He tried to block, but the bottle smashed against his forearm, sending shards flying and leaving a gash. Ignoring the pain, Daniele tackled the man, both of them crashing to the ground in a heap.
The boy in the dress had managed to slip away into the crowd, but the fight showed no signs of stopping. Vittorio, seeing his friends in trouble, charged at the nearest assailant, delivering a powerful blow to his gut. The man doubled over, giving Vittorio a moment to catch his breath before he was grabbed from behind and thrown into a chair.
Ilo, trying to fend off another attacker, took a hard punch to the eye, causing it to swell instantly. Desperate, he swung wildly, managing to land a hit that sent his assailant stumbling back.
The bouncers finally pushed through the crowd, grabbing the fighters and pulling them apart. Daniele was hauled to his feet, his vision blurry and his face throbbing. Blood was trickling from his nose, and he could feel the sting of his various cuts and bruises.
"Enough!" one of the bouncers shouted, forcing the men apart. "Everyone out! Now!"
Breathing heavily, Daniele, Ilo, and Vittorio stumbled out of the bar, their adrenaline wearing off and the pain setting in. They exchanged looks of disbelief and exhaustion, the reality of their injuries sinking in.
"Well," Vittorio said, spitting blood onto the sidewalk, "that escalated quickly."
"Yeah," Ilo agreed, gingerly touching the swelling on his eye. "But we did the right thing."
Daniele nodded, wincing as he adjusted the napkin on his nose. "Let's just hope it doesn't get any worse."
As they stood there, battered and bruised, Daniele couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Despite the pain and chaos, they had stood up for someone in need. And that, he thought, was worth every bruise and cut.
When Andrea had found out about the fight the next day, he was livid. Daniele could see the anger simmering in his eyes as they stood in Daniele’s apartment.
"Daniele, what were you thinking?" Andrea demanded, his voice trembling with anger. "You could've gotten seriously hurt!"
"I was trying to protect the boy," Daniele replied, trying to keep his voice calm.
"Yeah, you were doing the right thing but look where that got you!" Andrea shouted, gesturing to Daniele's bruised face. "You need to stop getting into these fights!"
"It's not like I go looking for them," Daniele said defensively. "They just happen."
Andrea's eyes narrowed. "That's not good enough. You need to be more careful. I can't keep worrying about you like this."
"I know, and I'm sorry," Daniele said, reaching out to take Andrea's hand. "I just... I can't stand by and do nothing when they were troubling that boy."
Andrea pulled his hand away, tears of frustration welling up in his eyes. "And I can't stand by and watch you get hurt. Promise me you'll try to avoid fights from now on. Please."
Daniele felt a pang of guilt at the pain in Andrea's eyes. "I promise. I'll try to stay out of trouble."
Andrea sighed, the anger slowly draining from his face. "That's all I ask. Just... be careful, Dani.
—
Twenty minutes later, there was a furious knock on the door. Daniele braced himself and opened it to find Andrea standing there, his face a mixture of anger and concern.
"Daniele!" Andrea exclaimed, stepping inside and immediately cupping Daniele's face with gentle hands. "What the fuck happened to you?"
"I'm fine," Daniele tried to reassure him, but Andrea's eyes blazed with fury.
"Fine? Your nose is fucking broken, Dani! Why didn't you answer your phone?"
Daniele sighed, the weight of the night pressing down on him. "I didn't want to worry you."
Andrea's anger flared. "Worry me? Daniele, I was going out of my mind with worry! You can’t just get into fights and then disappear without a word. You said you were gonna be back within two hours and then suddenly I can’t get hold of you. You don’t pick up your phone. You do not respond to messages. And guess what, it’s been five fucking hours, Dani."
“You promised me that you would stop getting into these fights, Dani. It’s like a cycle that happens every time you go out. You go to a shitty bar with your friends, which is full of shitty people and somebody gets on one you guys’ nerves and voila! I get my boyfriend back, who the last time I had seen in a perfectly fine condition, with a broken face.”
“It’s not like I enjoy getting my face smashed or something!” Daniele retaliated. “Sometimes shitty things happen and suddenly the situation gets out of control. Also, I did not want to worry you, amore.”
Daniele looked down, ashamed. "I'm sorry, Andrea. I didn't mean for this to happen."
Andrea's expression softened, his anger melting into concern. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Let's get you cleaned up properly."
—
Andrea guided Daniele to the bathroom and began gathering the first-aid supplies. The bathroom was small but had everything they needed. Andrea’s touch was gentle but firm, his concern evident in every movement.
"Hold still," Andrea instructed, his voice steady despite the underlying tension.
Daniele winced as Andrea gently cleaned the cuts and bruises on his face. Andrea’s hands were steady, his touch soothing despite the pain.
"Why do you always get yourself into these situations?" Andrea murmured, more to himself than to Daniele.
"I'm sorry," Daniele whispered. "I didn't mean for it to happen."
Daniele watched Andrea work, feeling a mix of gratitude and guilt. "I'm really sorry, Andre" he repeated softly. "I didn't want to make you worry."
Andrea sighed, his frustration melting into empathy. "I know. Just... be more careful next time, okay?"
"I promise," Daniele said, looking into Andrea's eyes. "I'll be more careful."
Andrea finished cleaning the wounds and gently applied antiseptic. "There, all done. Now, let's get some ice on that nose."
—
As Daniele sat on the couch with a bag of ice pressed to his nose, he reflected on the series of events that had led them here. He thought back to the day Marco had discovered his relationship with Andrea. They had been working at Andrea's father's glass factory, a summer job that kept them close. One afternoon, during a break, they had found a secluded corner and stolen a few moments for themselves.
Daniele pulled Andrea close, their bodies pressing against each other as they kissed. Andrea's hands slid up Daniele's back, fingers threading through his hair. Daniele's hands roamed over Andrea's waist, pulling him even closer, feeling the warmth and the beating of his heart. They kissed passionately, losing themselves in the moment, savoring the stolen intimacy.
Marco, who wasn't supposed to be there that day, had been called in unexpectedly by their father to help with some task. As he finished his task and was about to leave, he caught sight of Andrea and Daniele in their secluded corner. He stopped, the sight before him rooting him to the spot.
From Marco's point of view, he saw his twin brother Andrea, his lips locked with Daniele's, their bodies moving with a rhythm that spoke of familiarity and deep affection. He watched as Daniele's hands slid under Andrea's shirt, caressing his back, and as Andrea responded by pulling Daniele even closer, their kiss deepening with every passing second.
Marco's face twisted into a mask of shock and betrayal. He had no idea about their relationship, and the sight of them so intimately intertwined felt like a punch to the gut. He wanted to shout, to confront them, but the words caught in his throat. He stood there, unseen and unnoticed, his heart pounding in his chest.
As Andrea and Daniele continued to kiss, lost in each other, Marco took a step back, trying to process what he had just witnessed. He turned and walked away, his mind reeling from the revelation. Andrea and Daniele, still caught up in their moment, had no idea they had been seen.
—
Daniele remembered the day Marco had broken his nose vividly.
He had seen someone standing with Andrea's bike and helmet, filling diesel in his bike, and in his confusion, thought it was Andrea. He approached, calling out.
"Andre?"
Getting no response from the boy, he called him a bit louder, “Oh, Andre!”
But when the boy turned around and looked at him, Daniele realised his mistake. Marco looked over, his face hardening at the sight of Daniele. He shouted out,"When is the sex tape with my brother coming out?"
Daniele was pissed beyond words. He could tolerate slander towards him. He didn't give a shit about anyone saying absolutely anything about him. But when the question arose about anyone badmouthing his lover, things drastically changed. Andrea was the only good thing in his life and God forbid anyone try to soil the purity and beauty of that man. No matter if the man in front of him was his own brother.
Daniele's anger flared instantly. "What the fuck are you saying?" He started sprinting towards Marco. “Hey! What the fuck did you just say? Come here, I'm gonna smash your face.”
Before Daniele could add anything else, Marco's fist connected with his nose, the impact sending him sprawling to the ground. The pain was immediate and intense, and Daniele felt blood pouring from his nose.
The next day, Andrea found out about the fight and was furious. He decided to confront Marco after his swimming practice at their school. Standing by the pool's edge, Andrea waited impatiently as Marco climbed out of the water, towel draped over his shoulders.
"Marco, we need to talk," Andrea said, trying to keep his voice calm.
Marco glanced at him, annoyance flickering in his eyes. "About what?"
"About you breaking Daniele's nose," Andrea replied, his voice tense.
Marco shrugged, wiping his face with the towel. "He had it coming."
Andrea's hands clenched into fists. "You had no right to do that, Marco. No right at all."
Marco rolled his eyes. "He was asking for it. You should be thanking me for protecting you."
Andrea's composure started to slip. "Protecting me? By assaulting the person I care about? That's not protection, Marco. That's just violence."
"He's not good for you, Andrea," Marco shot back. "I can see it. You're too blind to realize it."
"That's not your decision to make!" Andrea's voice rose, echoing in the empty pool area. "I can take care of myself. You need to respect my choices."
Marco's face hardened. "Respect? Like how you respected me by sneaking around with him behind my back?"
Andrea took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I didn't tell you because I knew you'd react like this. But Daniele and I...we're serious about each other. I need you to understand that."
"Understand?" Marco's laugh was bitter. "What I understand is that he's using you, and you're too naive to see it."
Andrea's temper flared. "You don't know him like I do. Daniele would never hurt me. Unlike you, apparently."
Marco's eyes narrowed. "You think I enjoy hurting you? I'm trying to protect you from making a huge mistake."
"Well, you're failing," Andrea snapped. "You're pushing me away. And if you keep this up, you won't have a brother left to protect."
There was a tense silence as the brothers glared at each other, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Finally, Marco shook his head, a cold smile on his lips.
"Do whatever you want, Andrea. I don't care anymore," he said, turning on his heel and walking away.
Andrea watched him go, a mix of anger and sadness churning inside him. As Marco disappeared from sight, Andrea took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm within him. He knew he had to talk to Daniele and make sure he was okay.
—
As Daniele lay on the couch with a bag of ice pressed to his nose, he felt a mixture of pain and gratitude. Andrea sat next to him, his expression softening from anger to concern.
"Thank you," Daniele said quietly, breaking the silence.
"You're welcome," Andrea replied, leaning in to kiss Daniele's forehead. Andrea sighed, leaning back against the couch. "You know, I worry about you. More than I let on."
"I know," Daniele replied, reaching out to take Andrea's hand.
Andrea squeezed his hand, a silent assurance of his support and love. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the events of the previous night slowly fading into the background as they found solace in each other's presence. Daniele could not remember receiving such soft affection from anyone before. His mother had left his father and him when he was very young. His father had been shitty and the only touch he had received from him was laced with anger and filth.
Sure he had made out with people before Andrea but had he ever felt like his soul was being touched when his lips brushed against another pair. Sure he had fucked a fair share of people, but had he ever made love to someone. Andrea always felt like a sliver of sunlight that brightened up the dark years Daniele had been surviving through. He had taught him what it meant to live. It was because of Andrea that Daniele realised that he too could be selfish to want someone all to himself, his to love, his to care for, his to come back home to. His, his, and only his.