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Chapter Text

Elio

“…and this, dear friends, was my latest composition. Grazie!” I waved my hands into a mock-bow, and my little audience erupted into cheers and laughter.

My parents had “forced” me into another round of playing for our dinner guests at our Villa in Italy ( dinner drudgery, I used to call those events when I was younger) , but in truth, they as much as I knew that I secretly enjoyed giving a little show once in a while. And I needed the practice if I wanted to become a professional pianist, performing night after night for different crowds. But that was yet a plan for my future, as I was currently in the middle of my musical studies at the Paris Musical Conservatory - well, right now, I was enjoying my summer vacation . I could have chosen Rome for my academic education, but something about Paris spoke to me, and thus this was where I had ended up. At least for now. My professors had suggested at least one semester abroad, preferably the States, but I wasn’t sure yet if this was where I wanted to be going.

“So, when is Pedro arriving again?” One of our guests, a distant cousin of my mother’s, asked.

“Tomorrow,” my dad answered, pouring everyone another round of wine. I was already on the way of being pretty drunk, so I put my hand over my glass and shook my head. He winked at me and tousled my hair, something he had been doing since I was little. Some people might say that our close relationship was unusual, but I loved my parents and was very grateful for how they supported me and accepted me for who I was.

“Piccino, remember you promised to show them around, so keep your calendar clear for the next couple of days, please,” my mother lit her evening cigarette and raised an eyebrow at me - as if I would forget! I rolled my eyes for good measure, anyway.

“And be nice to his friends.”

“Oui, maman.”

“I heard he brings his friend Oliver, too,” Chiara, the girl from the villa next to ours chimed in. “He is from New York, and looks like a model. I follow him on Instagram.” She had a dreamy expression on her face which Marzia, my friend who also studied in Paris and whose family owned another villa close to ours, commented with a suppressed snort.

“What? You think I don’t have a chance with him?” Chiara sounded irritated and shot us angry glares.

“Oh, no, that’s not it. You look stunning, and you know that,” I tried to reassure her. “But rumor has it he is arrogant and unapproachable, and that whenever someone tries, he rudely rejects them because he doesn’t believe in love.” I lit a cigarette and let myself fall on the sofa, right in between the two girls, who giggled at me, mood already lightened.

“In fact, I also heard from a very reliable source that he believes all women cheat on their men, and that one should avoid them if one doesn’t want to be cheated on.” Chiara rolled her eyes on me.

I paused my hand on its way to bring my cigarette yet again to my lips and couldn’t stop wondering who might have hurt him so bad, but the thought was gone the same instance when Marzia continued to speak of Pedro’s other friend, Claudio.

“He thinks about studying in Paris, too,” she said while twisting the hem of her striped T-shirt in her fingers. I could sense there was more to it than she was letting on and vowed to ask her later, in private.

“Claudio, that name rings a bell,” Chiara mused.

“His father is a famous lawyer,” my father said. “Maybe you have heard about him in the news?”

“Ah, yes!” Chiara exclaimed and snapped her fingers. “Claudio Conrad. He helped his father on this one case when someone was falsely accused of murder. Made him very popular all over social media. He said he wants to become a human rights lawyer in the future.”

I saw the blush rising up on Marzia’s cheeks and narrowed my eyes at her, wondering if she was the reason why he considered finishing his studies in Paris instead of one of the Ivy League universities. She clearly had some explaining to do, because how did I not know of their acquaintance?

“Well, they will be our guests for six weeks, so there’s plenty of time to get to know each other better,” my mother smiled, and when her eyes landed on me, an uneasy feeling began to settle in my stomach. I raised my right eyebrow in question, but she simply smirked and turned her attention back to the woman to her left.

I looked to my father for help, but he only shrugged his shoulders; as usual, we were both at a loss when it came to the mysterious antics of my mom. Not that she had ever caused any harm, but she had a penchant for causing mischief, and my dad never ceased to tell tales about how she had continuously played tricks on him during the early days in their relationship. Like that one time when she had called his house, disguised her voice and told his sister she had been discovered by Hollywood, just to get her out of the house to be alone with my dad. She had to clear up the situation afterwards but claimed with one of her smiles it had been totally worth it. I really didn’t want to think what the two of them had been up to; imagining one’s parents having sex is never a pleasant thought.

The evening proceeded, I was asked to play another song, and after everyone had left and I had gone up to my room, I logged into my social media account to stalk Marzia and her mysterious Claudio. Not much came up, but apparently, they had met at an event Marzia and some other students had attended in London last year . I asked myself why she had never told me of their encounter and was about to question my importance as her friend, when my thumb hovered over a picture of Claudio with another man. The caption read: “Apparently, this guy is not only good at teaching Classics. Thanks for the surfing lesson, man!”@philOliver

I swallowed. The picture only showed their upper bodies, but it was obvious that this Oliver guy regularly worked out. And next to Claudio, he seemed huge! They were both beaming into the camera, and droplets of sea water were glistening in the sun. I licked my lips. Oliver’s eyes were the color of the ocean. I allowed myself to look at him more closely, at how his clavicles connected one toned shoulder with the other…and maybe a little longer than necessary at his wet chest hair.

I shook my head and logged out of my accoun t. One of my former high school classmates, John, my “ very reliable source ” for gossip, had actually met the guy and said he was an arrogant, pompous ass ( among the other information he had provided me with) . Of course, with these looks, what else was there to expect?

But then there was also the case of why he deliberately chose to stay away from relationships - as John claimed to know.

I sighed and placed my phone on the nightstand, rolled over and closed my eyes. It was late, and tomorrow, Pedro would arrive with his friends, and I needed to be rested to be their guide.

---

Oliver

“Stop sulking,” Pedro nudged my shoulder with his. We were sitting shoulder to shoulder on the back seat of a tiny taxi that would take us to our destination. “The Italian countryside will do you good. Excellent food, delicious wine, beautiful women…,”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” It came out more forcefully than I had intended, and I immediately apologized to my friend who simply sighed and grabbed my arm in an assuring gesture.

“Look, Oliver, I know things are difficult for you at the moment. But maybe this vacation will do you good.”

I inhaled deeply, bit my lip and nodded. Pedro’s request to join him on his vacation to Italy had come at the right time, and the logical part of my brain knew that. Problem was, the emotional side of my brain was still dealing with the fact that my boyfriend had broken up with me not too long ago because I had refused to come out to my parents who thought I was going to propose to a woman who I had “fake-dated” for years. To add to the mess, she had believed so, too, because being bisexual in her books meant there was no reason not to fall in love with her. Which I didn’t. I liked her, but I was in love with another man. Who had then declared he had secretly dated his assistant for quite a while because he had suspected I would never be ready to settle down. Meanwhile, my fake-girlfriend had in her anger told someone from the Classics department I was dating a man, someone else’s secretary had overheard the conversation…and to cut a long story short, everyone now knew about my sexuality. Including my parents, whom she had contacted as well . Naturally, they were not overjoyed.

“Just make sure no one tries to flirt with me, because I can’t guarantee I will stay polite.”

I heard Claudio chuckle from the front passenger seat and rolled my eyes. He was nice, but his endless declarations about how he would finally meet his Marzia again, began to slightly strain on my nerves.

“Oh, Oliver, if the Italian women are anything like my Marzia, mark my words, you will be in love by the end of our stay.”

I threw Pedro a questioning look which he answered with a similar gesture; apparently news that I was bisexual had not reached everyone . I shook my head to let Pedro know I didn’t want to clarify Claudio’s misunderstanding right now. As a friend, he deserved to know the truth, and I would tell him eventually.

“You will love Samuel,” Pedro picked up our conversation. “He might be able to find the inspiration you need for that new book you have been struggling with.”

“You might be right. I’ve read his last paper in Classics & Philosophy . Another display of his marvelous intelligence. You are so lucky he helped you with your doctoral thesis back then.”

Pedro hummed and nodded.

“His wife Annella works in translation, should you need assistance with that. Oh, and there is of course Elio, his son.”

“Let me guess, an academic as well?” Not that I was begrudging him his chances, but I had learned to grow weary about those protégé children.

“He’s a musician. Studies in Paris.”

“Of course he does.” I rolled my eyes.

“Ah, Oliver, don’t be like that. He’s not one of those kids to only come to your class to admire your looks. You will see.” I rolled my eyes, and thankfully he dropped the subject.

Finally, the villa came into view, and even through my exhaustion I could see how beautiful the old Italian building was. The taxi stopped right before the front entrance where a couple of people were gathering to welcome us. Claudio and Pedro kept on chatting excitedly. 

We continued unloading our luggage from the taxi that brought us to the villa, but I was too caught up in my own misery that felt even heavier after the long journey. I was so tired, I knew I would get unpleasant the second someone said even something remotely annoying to me, and thus dreaded being welcomed by our hosts.

In retrospect, I shouldn’t have been. Samuel and Annella Perlman turned out to be the most generous hosts one could imagine. They immediately insisted we call them by their first names, and seeing my face, which I knew how worn-out it looked, Samuel good-naturedly clapped my back.

“You look like you are about to fall asleep standing here. Elio!” He called inside. “My son will show you upstairs. Pedro, you and Claudio will stay on the ground floor. Let me walk you to your rooms.”

I was about to thank him, when he moved aside and gave way to a young man with dark curls and piercing eyes. Something about his appearance caught me off guard, and I felt my hands begin to tremble.

“Man, you really don’t look well,” the man in front of me said and reached for my bag, but kept his attentive eyes on me, which added to the turmoil inside of me. “I’m Elio. Let’s get you upstairs and into bed.”

I cleared my throat at his last words and nodded wordlessly. He looked at me with a raised eyebrow, then turned around and marched inside at a speed I had difficulty keeping up. He didn’t allow me any time to marvel at the tasteful decoration of the villa, and when he stopped in front of a door on the upper floor, I almost ran into him.

“This is your room. It’s actually my room, but I’m staying in the one next to yours. We have to share a bathroom, though.”

Again, he looked at me as if he expected me to say something, but all I could do was nod. My eyes fell on the bed, and with a happy sigh, I sank down on it and buried my face in the pillow. The sheets were soft and smelled of chamomile and lemon, which had an immediate calming effect on my nerves. I could hear Elio mumble something, but sleep had already pulled me under. Just at the last wakeful moment did it occur to me that I had never fully introduced myself to him…

-----

Elio

Well, okay, such rude behavior simply added up to the image I had had about that Oliver guy from what John had told me. I threw the door to my room shut with a loud bang and marched back downstairs to cool off in the pool. Unfortunately, I hadn’t counted on my mom (...with her being her…) , who caught me when I was about to turn the corner of the living room.

“Tesoro, why do you look so grumpy?”

“It’s nothing maman, just the heat.” Of course, she wouldn’t let such a flimsy excuse slide.

“Come, sit with me.”

I rolled my eyes, puffed my cheeks and blew air out of my mouth, but she only pulled me close and tousled my hair. Both of my parents liked to do that, and usually I didn’t mind, but today I felt wired and anxious, and pulled my head away.

“What’s your first impression of our summer guests?” She lit a cigarette and eyed me curiously. I felt uneasy under her stare and looked down at my hands.

“They are okay, I suppose. Haven’t spoken to them much, yet.”

“Ah, but I know how quick you are with your judgment.”

“Hm.” I bit my lower lip and kept my eyes down.

“Elio,” she said, more softly this time, and turned my chin towards her so that I couldn’t refuse to look at her. She didn’t say anything, just smiled her mysterious smile, and for whatever reason, my eyes began to sting. I cleared my throat and nodded.

“Right. I better get going if I want to take that quick swim before I show them around.”

“You better do that. Anchise has bikes ready for everyone. You’ll have fun, you’ll see.”

I wasn’t too sure about that but vowed to make the best of it anyway. 

Pedro was a former PhD student of my dad’s , and they had kept in touch ever since, even published books and articles together. He was younger than my dad, but older than the two friends he had brought. My father had told us that Pedro and Oliver were working in the same department at Columbia, and that he had met Claudio at some charity event .

At the pool, I pulled off my t-shirt, dipped my toe into the water to test the temperature, then plunged into it and let myself sink to the ground before coming up for air again.

I pushed my hair out of my face and crossed my arms over the stony side of the pool. From here, I could see the patio where my dad laughed with Pedro and Claudio. They looked considerably more rested than Oliver even though they had taken the same flight. Maybe Oliver was an anxious flyer like myself and the stress had prevented him from sleeping during the flight?

My father had spotted me and waved me over, so I quickly climbed out of the pool and put my t-shirt back on, ignoring the fact that it would get all wet. I didn’t want to walk up to our guests half-naked.

“Elio, we just talked about when might be the best time to show the boys around. How about after a round of espresso? Then you have the rest of the afternoon until dinner.”

“Sounds great, Samuel. But I fear Oliver will not join us today.” Pedro smiled apologetically and I furrowed my brow.

“I understand. He looked utterly exhausted,” my father replied.

It hadn’t occurred to me that that might have been the reason for Oliver’s rudeness, and I suddenly felt sorry for the guy.

“Don’t worry. Once he’s rested, you won’t be able to stop him from exploring. He’ll probably be out there for his daily run early tomorrow morning. You’ll see. Now, you said something about coffee?”

I decided that I liked Pedro and the easy way he talked. He was polite and smiled a lot, but I could also detect that he was observant and quick-witted. I understood why my dad had formed a friendship with him.

“Do you have wi-fi here at the villa?” Claudio asked. “I would like to contact someone and let them know we arrived safely.”

The left corner of my lips turned upwards because I already knew who that person was and how delighted Marzia would be to hear from him. But of course, Claudio didn’t know what I suspected, so I quickly brought my face back into what I hoped was a neutral expression. Pedro shot me a bemused look anyway, and I had to clear my throat to cover up a laugh. Yup, I already liked the guy.

A little later, I was sitting with my father in his study, thinking about my mom’s words.

“What’s bothering you, hm?” My father lowered himself on the couch next to me.

“Who is that Oliver guy?”

My dad shrugged his shoulders. “A researcher from Columbia. Working towards tenure in his department, I think. Pedro suggested I might have a talk with him about his next book project.”

I furrowed my brows. “And exactly how many books has he written so far? He’s not that old.”

He clicked his tongue. “Elio, don’t be mean. He has just started his career. He has published one book, put another essay collection together with Pedro, and wrote articles for two other volumes. I happen to have them all somewhere in my bookcase, if you are interested.”

I hugged my knees to my chest. “No, not really. I believe you, but he’s not exactly from my academic field, and I don’t think I will have time to read them on top of my own course material I brought with me.”

“Hm,” my dad nodded, and I knew there was more to come. “Why are you so determined to not like him?”

“I’m not,” I protested. “He’s probably a great guy. I just don’t see why I must be friends with a friend of your friend.”

My father looked amused. I hated when he looked at me that way, as if I was a child. It made me angry against my will. “And what if you come to like him?”

“What if I come to hate him?” Yeah, not one of my most intelligent come-backs, and rightfully so, my dad sighed. But I was not really in the mood for this.

“Don’t worry, you won’t fall for him, my boy.”

“Exactly, I won’t!” I pushed the air out of my nostril, got up and went to bed.

Chapter Text

Oliver

I woke up with a start, disoriented and covered in sweat. Slowly, I remembered where I was and allowed myself to sink back onto the bed.

Outside, the song of the birds welcomed dawn, and I felt the sudden urge to move. I changed into my running clothes, drank some water from the tap, and carefully, not to wake anybody in the house at this early hour, made my way downstairs. I was relying on my phone to show me the right way back and started jogging along a path between two corn fields, leading away from the villa.

With every step, I felt my head getting clearer. My shoulders relaxed, and for the first time in weeks, I felt good about myself. This was the Italian countryside, I was on vacation with my friends, I was outside in the early morning hours, moving my body…maybe life wasn’t so bad after all.

I vowed to apologize to Elio and his parents over breakfast. I was also curious to hear what Pedro and Claudio had been up to while I was out cold, and hoped I would get the chance to join them next time.

When I returned to the villa, the first person I ran into was Annella.

“Oliver! How good to see you awake and smiling!”

I realized that I was, indeed, smiling widely and blushed. “I have to apologize for not joining you for dinner yesterday. Pedro should have woken me up.”

“Ah, no, he didn’t because I told him to let you sleep. I’m glad you are feeling better now. Elio will simply do the tour with you again today.”

“Thank you, that is very kind of you. I guess I’ll go talk to him and make sure I don’t interfere with his plans.”

“You won’t,” she winked at me and left me standing at the bottom of the staircase. I wasn’t sure what she had meant, and quickly went upstairs to get a much-needed shower. I pulled my sweat-soaked t-shirt over my head and was about to enter the bathroom, when I heard someone whistling inside and the water running. I knocked on the door just to be sure.

“Just a second,” I heard Elio answer from the inside, and before I could react, the door swung open and Elio stood in front of me, face still wet from when he had probably splashed water on it at the sink. He had a towel slung around his shoulders and a t-shirt in his hands but was only clad in a pair of shorts. My eyes wandered from the dip below his throat down to his chest and his stomach before I could stop myself. He was slender, yet his muscles well-defined, with perfect marble skin, and a waistline most women must envy him for. Luckily, when my eyes stopped at the waistband of his shorts, I snapped out of my stupor and cleared my throat.

“Hi, morning.” Yeah, not the most intelligent thing I had ever said, but I blamed it on the lack of coffee.

Elio tilted his head and looked at me with those curious eyes of his.

“Uhm, I wanted to apologize for yesterday?” I managed to say. “I… I don’t usually fall asleep on people like that.”

“Then how do you?”

“How do I do what?” I furrowed my brows in confusion, not catching up with him.

He smirked and crossed his arms over his chest, drawing my attention back there again, much to my dismay.

“Fall asleep on people.”

…oh, this little shit…I had to give him kudos for his tease, though.

“Ha, ha, very funny.” I grinned and shook my head. “Hey, are you done in there? I really need a shower.” I suddenly became aware of the fact that I was standing half-naked in front of him and probably smelled as bad as I thought I would.

“Sure. There are fresh towels in the cupboard under the sink, and soap and shampoo in the shower. You need anything else?”

“I’m good, thanks. But, uhm, your mother mentioned you might be free to show me around some time today.” I scratched my neck and hoped Annella had been right.

He held my eyes with his for a second longer than felt comfortable, then shrugged and turned away to walk back into his room.

“I don’t have anything better to do. We can go after breakfast. Meet you downstairs!”

---

Elio

Okay, well, that was a nice way to fully wake up!

I could hear Oliver get under the shower and had to take some deep breaths to prevent myself from imagining the water cascading down his totally naked body.

…yeah, okay, that went well. Not. Instead, I tried to recall the anger I had felt last night, after my dad had talked to me.

I quickly pulled my t-shirt over my head and ran downstairs to get some coffee.

My parents were already sitting outside, and Pedro was with them, too, but Claudio was absent.

“Good morning, Elio,” Pedro greeted me with a broad smile. I mumbled a greeting in return and poured myself a generous cup of coffee. I brought it close to my face, inhaled the strong scent, and sighed.

“I see you are not a morning person,” my father’s friend laughed.

“No, sorry,” I grinned back at him.

“Is Oliver up already? If not, I will drag his ass outside.”

“He’s in the shower,” I said, grabbed a croissant from the basket and proceeded with my experiment on how much Nutella I could spread on the poor thing until someone would comment on it. Nobody did today, though, which meant I got it almost completely covered when Oliver stepped outside.

“Wow, look at that,” he smiled at all of us sitting at the breakfast table, then greeted my parents, apologizing again for his absence over dinner.

My father assigned him a chair next to mine, and I could feel his eyes on me but refused to look up from my plate.

“That a typical dish around here?” Oliver pointed to my Nutella-covered croissant.

“No, but my personal recommendation.” I raised my eyes to him and had to blink. His face was closer than I had expected, and with his still-wet hair slicked back, I could see his fine features more clearly.

“I guess I’d rather stay with eggs, but I’ll keep it in mind.”

He turned away and chatted with Pedro, leaving me rather unsettled. I shook my head to get me out of whatever had befallen me, and when I looked up, my mother smiled at me. I narrowed my eyes at her to let her know I was not up for one of her jokes, but it was too late.

“Oliver, Elio will show you around today. Elio, please make sure to stop by the pharmacy to get that prescription for me, yes? Oh, and don’t forget about the volleyball game Chiara organized for our guests.”

“What volleyball game?” I was at a loss and tried to remember when anyone might have mentioned it to me.

“Nevermind, I’ll call her,” my mother said, then took her newspaper and went inside. I looked at my dad for help, but as usual, he only shrugged his shoulders.

---

Oliver

I had no idea how Elio managed to eat so much sugar and maintain a figure like that. Not that I wanted to think more than necessary about his body. That was uncalled for, and not in my interest . Unfortunately, other parts of my body were of a different opinion, so I distracted myself by asking Pedro about his evening. He was gushing about the little town and the delicious dinner they had had, but all the while I could feel Elio’s eyes on me, and that was not exactly helpful. I wasn’t interested in finding anyone and had vowed to myself to stay away from romance for a long time to come. The least I could use was someone like Elio. Whatever that meant. I absolutely refused to think about him in that way!

However, we were about to go for a bike ride together, which meant spending time with each other. Alone.

Luckily, Elio turned out to be easy company. He didn’t say much during the tour, and pointed out places to me where I could get coffee, gelato, pizza, where the best place to go swimming was if I didn’t feel like using the pool. As Annella had requested, we made a quick stop at the pharmacy, and I waited outside to give him some privacy.

“So, that was it,” he commented once he had joined me where I had remained standing with our bikes. “Not much going on here.”

“So, what do you do here during summers?”

“Waiting for the summer to end,” he smirked and eyed me over the rim of his sunglasses. I was at a loss at what to do with him and his intense stare, and decided I needed a break.

“Alright, see you later at the volleyball court then?” I got on my bike and cycled away, very much aware that I had been rude to him a second time in only 24 hours.

---

Elio

“He really is unapproachable,” I finished my story and took a drag of my cigarette.

“Well, don’t mind him, then. Spend time with Pedro, Claudio and me instead.” Marzia stretched her arms over her head and smiled.

We were lying by the pool, and she looked utterly smitten.

“Not sure about that. Tell me about him, though. What do you like about Claudio?”

She gave a soft laugh. “He is intelligent and funny. I like how he makes me feel when we are together. He listens to me, asks questions, and is so…gentle.”

I must have made a face because she threw her hair tie into my direction.

“Stop that. I really like Claudio. When I met him during the trip to London last year, we immediately clicked. I was afraid he would forget me, but he didn’t. We texted or called each other all the time, and when he said he would come here, I couldn’t believe my luck. Until yesterday, I still believed it was a dream, that he wasn’t serious about me.”

She swallowed and brushed her eyes with both her hands, and my heart went out to her.

“…Marzia…,” I grabbed her hand and stroked it softly. “Of course he wouldn’t forget about you. You are incredible!”

She snorted. “You are gay. Not sure your opinion counts.”

I gaped at her which made her laugh. “I beg your pardon. Just because I’m playing for the other team does not mean I can’t appreciate beauty when I see it.” I quickly got up, grabbed her by the waist and, ignoring her shriek, jumped into the pool with her.

When we emerged to the surface, Claudio was standing by the pool, looking down at us with a pained expression , but Marzia was out of the water and had thrown her arms around his neck in no time. I made a mental note that he seemed to be the jealous type of boyfriend then dived back down and swam to the other side to give the two lovebirds a moment. When I came up for air, Chiara, John , who must have arrived earlier that day , and some others had joined them. I noticed Oliver was not with them, concluding that he might join the team later, as he had promised to do.

“Who’s ready for some volleyball?” Chiara exclaimed, and I wished my mother hadn’t put that idea in her head.

---

Oliver

Seeing John talking to Elio came as a surprise. I hadn’t known about their acquaintance, and I knew I shouldn’t care, but unfortunately, I also knew that this guy meant trouble. Pedro was somehow distantly related to him and h ad never spoken kindly of the young man, which was notable because Pedro never said anything negative about anyone ever! I kept my distance and joined Chiara on the volleyball field instead. She seemed nice, a little too extroverted for my liking, but that was probably her Italian mentality. I noticed that she kept on finding ways to touch me, but as I wasn’t attracted to her, I kept on ignoring her advances. It turned out that she was a skilled volleyball player, and we easily won the match against Pedro and one of the many neighbors I couldn’t keep track of.

With a happy squeal, Chiara threw her arms around my neck and I swung her around in a circle, making her giggle in delight. I could see us becoming good friends, and felt instantly sad about her obvious attraction towards me when all I could offer her was my friendship. I made a mental note to talk to her at some point, let her down gently before it was too late. I had no intention to hurt her but knew how it felt to discover that one’s feelings weren’t  reciprocated. I had to swallow at the memory of my recent breakup, but Chiara’s laugh quickly dissipated my gloomy thoughts.

“Come on, you must be thirsty.” She took my hand and dragged me over to where Elio, Marzia and John were standing, talking to each other in French. I remembered that Pedro had mentioned that John’s grandmother was French, but that he had gone to high school in Milan. Maybe that was the connection between the three.

“Ciao! John, you’re next on the field!” Chiara demanded, but I realized that his eyes focused on me instead of her. I didn’t know why he looked me up and down so coldly, as we had never actually spoken, but something about this stare and how closely he was standing to Elio turned my uncomfortable feelings into irritable ones.

I wasn’t exactly known for being provocative, but something about John’s behavior and Elio’s indifferent expression rubbed me the wrong way. I couldn’t help myself. Instead of grabbing a glass of water from the nearby table, I simply took the bottle Elio was holding from his hand and placed my other hand on his left shoulder. The gesture was meant to be friendly, but when I felt the muscles shiver under my touch, I reacted and pressed my thumb against his naked skin.

Two things happened: Feeling him so close shook me to the core, but it seemed to have a rather different effect on Elio, who winced and recoiled. I didn’t want John to notice, so I quickly took Marzia’s hand and placed it over the place my hand had covered seconds before, babbling some nonsensical story about tense muscles and massages. While Marzia luckily complied with a smile, Elio’s face was like stone. I couldn’t bear it and quickly ran back to the volleyball field.

What was happening to me?

Chapter Text

Elio

I had no idea why Oliver had touched me at the volleyball court, but I strongly suspected it had something to do with showing off to Chiara how friendly he was with everybody. Whatever it was, it made me furious to be used in his plot, and what angered me even more was that my treacherous body had sent unmistakable signals to my brain, down my spine and straight to my nether regions. Signals I really did not want to feel. Thus, I quickly abandoned the group and walked back to the villa to cool off and maybe pour my emotions into a new composition I had been working on. Letting off steam had always worked best for me with a creative outlet.

However, John had silently followed me into the living room, sat down on the sofa and stared at me.

“What?” I asked and rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what I was wondering. What was that?” He pointed his chin into the vague direction of the volleyball court.

“The heat made me dizzy, and I needed to get inside.” I placed my fingers over the black and white ivory keys and began to play a soft melody, leaving it open for him to decide whether to take the hint and leave me alone, or to continue the conversation but with more candor.

“Oliver and Chiara. Don’t you think they are moving too fast? I mean, she’s known him for what? Two days? I think she should be more careful, especially with a guy like him. He’s a player, he will discard her like one of his toys in no time. There are rumors about another girl he played with. Almost went as far as making her believe he would marry her.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “She is old enough to make her own decisions. And if she wants to fall for a man as…as fickle and arrogant as Oliver...” To disguise my loss for words, I pressed the keys harder, hoping that the increase in volume would bring our chat to an end.

“Oh, indeed. But I warned you before,” John shook his head. “As I said, I’ve met him once or twice in New York and didn’t like either him or his group of friends. I’m afraid to say that Pedro, who is so dear to your father, is one of them. But maybe Pedro is the only half-way decent guy of the group, who knows.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Anyway, I have to go. Places to be, people to meet.” John winked at me, and I was instantly transported back to our high school days, or rather nights spent partying a little too hard in the clubs of Milan. I swallowed and nodded, and thankfully he finally left.

I had no idea for how long I had been playing but when I finally looked up, I found Oliver standing in the doorframe, his intense blue eyes on me.

“You are incredibly talented,” he said.

“Uhm, thank you.” I didn’t want to give in to his compliment, even though he sounded genuine.

“Marzia told me you are both studying in Paris?”

Ah, small talk. I had no mind for that.

“We do. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to practice some more.”

“And you don’t like an audience when you do?”

I took a deep breath and turned around on the piano stool to fully face him. “No, I don’t.”

Oliver had the audacity to chuckle. “Or you could say the truth and say that you don’t want me as an audience.”

“You are taking yourself much too seriously,” I countered, his laugh riling me up in an unexpected way.

“Am I? Pray, how else am I supposed to take me then?”

“Look, your jokes and humor might work for Chiara, but they certainly don’t work on me.”

“I wasn’t aware we were flirting,” Oliver raised an eyebrow at me, and I felt ready to explode. For different reasons I didn’t want to investigate.

“You and me? Certainly not! Not that it’s any of your business, but I have no need for romance.”

“Well, that makes two of us. It’s not my fault Chiara is attracted to me when people have pointed out my hard-heartedness and inability to love already on several occasions. Maybe she is one of the last poor souls who didn’t get the message - or didn’t hear what people say about me behind my back .”

His tone was no longer playful, and the hard look in Oliver’s eyes left me speechless and with my mouth open. Luckily, he left for upstairs, probably to take a shower and change his clothes.

The interaction had left me with a strange feeling inside of my chest, which again affected my choice of songs for my practice session. I made a mental note to talk to Pedro to find out what Oliver could possibly have meant.

---

Oliver

I had cooled off after the shower, and while I was in the process of buttoning up my shirt, I heard a knock on my door and seconds later Pedro stepped inside.

“May I?”

“Of course.” I smiled at him and pointed to the desk chair. He sat down and watched me fiddle with my shirt.

“How are you doing?” It was so typically Pedro to get right to the point, no no-nonsense small-talk to ease into what really interested him. It was one of the qualities I admired in him, as a researcher as well as a person.

“I’m okay, I guess,” I nodded.

“Are you really?” Pedro raised an eyebrow. “Because I was wondering how you might feel about Chiara aggressively flirting with you. And why my friend’s son keeps glaring at you like he wants to murder you.”

We looked at each other and chuckled.

“I will talk to Chiara and let her know that I’m not interested. I like her, but not the way she wants me to. And Elio… I don’t know. I fear we started off on the wrong foot, and I have no idea how to correct his impression of me. Not that it matters, but I want to be friendly with him.”

Pedro nodded. “Then be friendly. He will come around. He was cordial when he took you on the bike ride, wasn’t he?”

“He was. Maybe John said something to him?”

I noticed Pedro’s face clouding over. “Ignore this guy. John is just a very miserable person who envies everyone their happiness . His and Claudio’s father once fought over a case in court. Claudio’s father won, and John’s father did not take that kindly. I wasn’t aware that he went to the same high school as Elio and Marzia.”

“They still seem to be good friends,” I mused, and Pedro agreed with a hum. 

I sensed that he was about to ask me another personal question, but then another knock on my door interrupted us, and Claudio poked his head around the doorframe.

“I knew I would both find you here. Guys, I need your help.”

“Our help or our opinion on Marzia?” Pedro teased him, making him roll his eyes. Claudio walked over to my bed and let himself fall down in a dramatic gesture. Pedro and I shared a look, trying to hide our smiles.

“I know that you don’t understand, but she is so perfect! Did you not notice?”

“No, I did not notice,” I deadpanned, keeping my face straight which I knew would only hold as long as I didn’t look at Pedro.

“Oliver! How could you not notice her beauty? When she smiles, the whole world shines, and when she speaks with that cute French accent, I honestly want to fall down on my knees and ask her to marry me.”

Pedro and I raised our eyebrows but remained silent.

“Can you please take my feelings seriously?” Claudio complained.

“Well, do you want our true opinion or not? Because I can criticize her the way I do with all women,” I offered

“Okay, spit it out then,” Claudio looked at me with a weary expression.

“Fine.” I spread my hands, turning into my teacher-mode. “Well, to me, she is a little too short, which is probably due to her being French and me being too tall to fit anywhere. Her hair is too dark for her complexion, and she should have an honest conversation with her hairdresser about that. She is not ugly, but also not someone I would consider beautiful, but then she doesn’t need to be my type, so whatever. I haven’t heard her say any intelligent sentence yet, but we haven’t had the chance to speak much so far, thus I might come to like her if she proves her education to me.”

By now, Pedro was openly laughing, but Claudio’s narrowed eyes showed me he hadn’t understood my sarcasm.

“You don’t approve of her,” he said, and I sighed.

“It’s not about my approval, or anyone’s for that matter. If you are serious about her, then none of that should concern you. Just because I don’t find her attractive and think Elio looks better than she does, yet has none of her gentle disposition , then that is purely my opinion. Pedro and I, we don’t know her, but you do. And if you want our help to create an opportunity for the two of you to spend some time alone together, we’re happy to help.”

Claudio stared at me, probably pondering my offer.

“You think Elio is attractive?”

Well, that was not what I had expected him to remember of my speech.

“Sure, from a totally objective perspective.”

“You taught me that a personal perspective can never be objective and is always subjective.”

Pedro was having too much fun with our banter, almost falling off the desk chair. It was time to clear the air.

“Claudio, Pedro knows this already, but I’m bisexual, which means I can have both personal and objective views on the beauty of another person.”

“There is a flaw somewhere in your line of argumentation, but good for you, man.” Claudio nodded, and raised my eyebrow at his reaction, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“But wait! Does that mean that you are attracted to Marzia?”

“What? No!” Apparently, I had to be more careful about using sarcasm around him. Finally, Pedro decided to enter the conversation.

“Look, Claudio, we are both happy if you are happy. We will all go dancing together at that club Chiara mentioned, and Oliver and I will make sure that the DJ plays some romantic song just for the two of you. How does that sound?”

“That would be nice, yes,” Claudio smiled.

“And as for you, Oliver,” Pedro turned to me, and I sensed that nothing good would come out of his mischievous expression. “I will see you fall in love. Mark my words!”

I laughed and shook my head. “I highly doubt that, my friend.”

---

Elio

Marzia had come back for dinner, but she was a little early because she wanted to talk to me, so I took her for a walk through my parent’s orchard where we could be alone. I wasn’t worried about someone eavesdropping as we were speaking French anyway but knew that she preferred privacy.

“What did John say to you earlier? I noticed that he followed you inside.”

“Oh, nothing, really. He only repeated his previous warnings about Oliver, but as I’m not his biggest fan either, it didn’t matter to me.” I lit a cigarette and offered it to Marzia but she shook her head.

“Why aren’t you? Has he done anything to prove John’s words right?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I think he’s arrogant and ignorant, and thinks too much of himself. And he strings Chiara along but claims he’s not interested in her.”

“Wait, how do you know that?”

“We talked a little,” I waved my hand and took another drag of my cigarette, indicating that it wasn’t important to me. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Marzia smiled, and I was glad that my ruse to divert her interest in Oliver and me had been successful.

“What do you think of Claudio so far?”

I chuckled. “You like him a lot, don’t you? And I still need to learn how that happened!”

She giggled. “I didn’t think much of it when we met on this trip I took with some other students, but then he asked if I would mind if we kept in touch and I gave him my number. I never thought he would truly mean it, but he did! And… Elio, I’m falling for him. Probably am already into it too deep.” She sighed and leaned her head on my shoulder, and I hugged her.

“Love is such a wonderful thing, and if he feels the same about you, how awesome is that? I’m happy for you, Marzia.”

“Thank you,” she hugged me back and we remained like that for a while. “But what about you?”

“What about me?” I furrowed my brow.

“Don’t you want to fall in love, too?”

I sighed. “Sure, but I don’t see that happening at the moment. There was this guy I went out with in Paris a couple of times, but it turned out that he wasn’t interested in a permanent relationship. I will try again with someone else after the summer break. Paris is full of attractive single men, after all.” I joked because I didn’t want her to worry about me, and I hadn’t exactly lied to her when I said that I was okay as it was. But the truth was that deep down inside of me, I was also hoping to find the right person. Casual dating could be fun, but I was also craving the safety only an established relationship could offer. Everyday life, with routines together, like cooking dinner or sleeping in on Sundays, even bickering over household chores – I knew I was romanticizing the last one, but I wanted it anyway.

“What kind of person would you like to date?”

“You mean like a type? Because I’m not sure if I have one,” I mused. “I like tall men, and I also like them more on the athletic side, but I would never make that my number one priority. However, the person must be intelligent! I could never be with someone I couldn’t discuss books, movies, and art with. He doesn’t need to be a musician, but he shouldn’t dislike music, or he would quickly get annoyed living with me.”

Marzia laughed softly. “You might need to combine Pedro, Oliver and John into one person, then.”

I pulled a face. “Yeah, not sure how that would turn out. And why John, anyway?”

“Don’t tell me you never noticed,” Marzia looked at me incredulously. “You must have known he was attracted to you when we were still at high school.”

“Ah, maybe.” If I were completely honest with myself, I had suspected that, but the idea made me feel uncomfortable.

“Then maybe I should be the one to warn you to gently let him down or at least make it very clear that you only value your long-lasting friendship, but nothing else.” She had spoken sternly, and I nodded.

“Okay, I will. Thank you. I will pay attention to how we behave towards each other.”

The next day, in search of a book I must have misplaced, I stumbled upon my parents chatting with Oliver in my father’s study. I caught something about Heraclitus and Greek statues, but didn’t pay attention while roaming the tower of stacked books on the side table. One false move, and the whole construction would fall over.

“Apricot juice?” My mother asked and handed out glasses to everyone.

My father smacked his lips. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I knew what was coming.

He launched into a lecture on the etymology of the word “apricot”, omitting some facts on purpose. And of course, Oliver picked up on it with a lecture on the true meaning and origin of the word. Two nerds had clearly found each other.

But my father had done the same spiel with all his research assistants over the years that by now I felt annoyed that his guests would still fall for his obvious trap. And of course Oliver was the one who got all the details perfectly right.

My dad praised him, and I rolled my eyes. 

“What?” Oliver looked at me, puzzled.

“Don’t bother, he does that every year. No one is listening anyway.” My father threw me a stern look and told me in Italian to stop misbehaving. I apologized to him, not to Oliver, picked up my book that I had finally found and was about to leave the study, when Oliver got up from his seat and followed me.

“Uhm, what exactly did I do to you? We were okay the other day, when you showed me around.” His voice caught me.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Nothing. I’m just naturally careful about people who are popular with everyone.”

“How is that my fault?”

“Don’t know about that yet, but there must be at least one. No one can be loved by everyone.”

“Then I must be lucky to have found that one person who despises me in you, I suppose. Playing the good host but judging me fiercely.” He crossed his arms over his chest and fixed his eyes on me. “Maybe we are the same? Equally suspicious, equally hard-hearted.”

I scoffed. “I’m not hard-hearted! I have neither time nor interest in things concerning the heart.” Well, that conversation had taken an interesting turn, and I had no idea why.

“You also seem to have no mind for friendship or friendliness, it seems.”

“I have friends, I’m just not interested in making new ones. Now, please excuse me, I have some work to do.”

I left him standing there in the hallway and fled to my room.

Chapter Text

Elio

Chiara had talked Pedro into organizing an outing at Le Dancing with everyone, and even though I could have guessed his gift for socializing before, now it was the sparkle in his eyes and the enthusiasm with which he had welcomed Chiara’s suggestion that gave him away. Pedro was indeed a true party animal. I also understood why my dad liked him on a personal level as much as he enjoyed his academic company. During the dinners he had been present at our table so far, he had easily conversed with everyone about whatever topic the other person chose, and with his soft smile and his intense eye contact, he made whoever he talked to feel as if they were the most important person in the world. Truth be told, I was wondering why he was single when he could so easily capture everyone’s attention and was a genuinely kind man. With a sigh I realized that he was everything I might have been looking for, just not my type. And also ninety percent not gay. The other ten percent was open for debate, as with every human being. At least in my opinion.

This evening, I took my time picking an outfit. Last year, I might not have cared at all, but with our guests, I felt obliged to make an effort. And who knew? Maybe I would meet a nice man, perhaps a summer guest, tonight? Lately, Crema had seen an increase in tourists, so there was at least a bit of a chance.

It was a mild night, so I chose a short-sleeved linen shirt over my black jeans which I rolled up over my ankles. Converse were a must, as I was planning on dancing as much as possible. I was in a good mood, and felt rather giddy about going out with everyone. Even my parents had commented on my smiles today, which made me realize that I was often gloomy around them. Not that I intended to be, but music was constantly on my mind, and sometimes I felt a song so intensely that it affected my emotions. I had tried to explain that to my mother once, and her response was a Chuck Palahniuk quote: “ Pain is inspiration” . I still felt that.

But not tonight. This night was going to be fun, and I would laugh with Marzia, dance with Chiara and drink cocktails with Claudio and Pedro. About Oliver, I was less sure. He was going to be present, obviously, but since our argument, things had been rather cold between us. And whenever we happened to talk, we mostly disagreed.

During lunch, for example, Oliver had argued that Heraclitus could be applied to many things in our modern-day life, and that change should always be welcomed. I, however, told him that too much change might unsettle a person and that there needed to be a limit, or one would lose one’s emotional footing. We argued back and forth, until I noticed Pedro and my dad watching us with a bemused smile, and I immediately shut up. I hated it when people watched me like this. I didn’t mind performing my music for an audience, but I was not some psychological experiment to observe how I might react in a given situation.

I shook my head to avert the memories of said lunch and made my way into the bathroom to see what I could do with my hair. Since I had decided to let it grow out over the summer, it became increasingly difficult to make my curls behave. Marzia said it looked cute and would most certainly attract men, but so far it had only attracted painful tangles.

I was about to knead some product into some misbehaving strands when the door opened to Oliver’s side.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, but then remained standing in the doorframe, looking at me.

“Give me a second, I need to wash my hands and then I’m gone,” I said and proceeded to hold my hands under the tap.

“Your cologne smells rather pleasant. What brand do you use?”

“Huh?” Had I heard that correctly?

“Never mind. What time are we leaving again?”

“Pedro said half past eight, which means in thirty minutes. That enough time for you to get ready?” I asked, and didn’t even mean it unkind. But Oliver rolled his eyes with a huff.

“Of course! I don’t need that long in the bathroom to get presentable.”

I narrowed my eyes on him. “It’s not my fault that with this humid weather, my hair is alive!”

“As long as it doesn’t turn into snakes, you should be good.”

“Did you just compare me to Medusa?” I gaped at him.

“That was a joke.”

Honestly, his face didn’t look one bit like joking. “Very funny. Okay, I’m done. See you downstairs in half an hour.”

I quickly closed the door behind me and let out a long breath. Sometimes, two people don’t have any chemistry at all. I bet that was how it was with us.

--- 

Oliver

I closed my eyes and sighed. How was it that every time Elio and I spoke, it turned into some kind of argument? Not that I minded the occasional bickering, but somehow whatever I said he took it the wrong way. Maybe it was time I worked on my humor. Claudio not understanding my sarcasm was one thing, but Elio was too intelligent not to be able to read the undertones.

The tiredness hadn’t left me since I stepped on the plane to Italy, and I took my time showering, hoping that the hot water would wash away the tension in my neck. Tonight, Pedro wanted to make sure that Claudio and Marzia got lots of opportunities to spend time alone, which meant I would have to distract Chiara - and Pedro Elio. I hated dancing, but with enough alcohol, I thought I could manage. And Elio seemed to have taken a liking to  Pedro, so that was a safe bet.

Checking my watch, I realized I didn’t have much time anymore and quickly put on some clothes. I left my hair wet and hoped for the best; I certainly wouldn’t give Elio the satisfaction of me being late.

From the staircase, I could already hear voices chattering and laughing, and I willed my face into a broad smile before I joined our little group. Chiara immediately kissed me on both cheeks, and commented on the stubble I hadn’t had the time to shave. A little self-consciously, I brushed my hand over my cheek, hoping I hadn’t blushed. Luckily, Pedro chose this moment to announce our departure, and we all mounted our bikes to cycle to “Le Dancing”, some kind of outdoor club with a dancefloor, some tables and chairs, and a bar. The atmosphere was much more welcoming than any bar I had been to in New York, and I liked it at once. We parked our bikes at the entrance gate, and Pedro caught my eye and tilted his head into the direction of Marzia and Claudio. I nodded, and while Pedro suggested to Elio they find a seat for everyone, I declared the first round of drinks would be on me and asked Chiara to help me order.

When we made our way to the table, I noticed that John and some others had joined our group. Elio was already chatting with them, switching easily between French and Italian while translating key phrases into English for Pedro.

“I understand Italian, only my speaking is a little rusty,” Pedro winked at him. “But your translations are masterful.” Elio blushed and looked rather proud of himself. I noticed how the corners of my lips had twisted into a smile, but when I looked from Elio to Pedro, he questioningly raised his eyebrows at me.

I mouthed “nothing” and handed him his drink.

“Claudio and Marzia?” I whispered to him.

“Dance floor. Looks promising so far. Cheers.” We clinked our glasses, and when I took a first sip, I instantly felt the strong alcohol hit my body.

“Whoa!”

“That’s Italy for you,” Pedro clapped my shoulder. “Drink up, I want to see you dance!”

---

Elio

The sound of Oliver’s laugh caught me off guard, and I realized I hadn’t heard him laugh as carefree as he did right now with Pedro since he had stepped out of the taxi on their first day. It was a warm and pleasant sound, and I found myself rendered speechless. There were soft crinkles around his eyes, and he looked younger, more relaxed.

John nudged my shoulder, and I turned back to him.

“He’s such a show-off,” he said and rolled his eyes. “So American!”

“We are both partly American,” I reminded him.

He shrugged. “Not as American as him .”

I lit a cigarette and nodded, though not understanding what he meant. Instead of asking him, I watched Chiara take Oliver’s hand and drag him to the dancefloor where she immediately latched on to him.

“They look good together,” someone commented. I hummed in indifferent agreement but felt a sudden pang of jealousy. They DID look good together, the way their bodies moved so smoothly, and a sudden thought crossed my mind: was that the way Oliver moved in bed,  too? I quickly downed my drink and rushed to the dancefloor as well, where I had spotted Pedro displaying some silly dance moves but clearly enjoying himself very much. He whooped in joy when he saw me, and together we jumped up and down as if we were both ten years younger, and I quickly forgot about Oliver and Chiara.

When the music turned to something more romantic, we went back to our table. Chiara had wrapped her arms around Oliver’s neck, clearly hoping for a kiss, but he smiled at her and mentioned that he was thirsty. She looked disappointed, and I felt for her. How could Oliver not see what he was doing to her? Why had he not told her that he didn’t reciprocate her feelings?

I was suddenly very angry with him, but also didn’t understand where my anger had come from. Their relationship wasn’t my business, yet it felt way too personal to distance myself fully.

“Ha, finally!” Pedro exclaimed and pointed towards the dancefloor where Claudio had tenderly cradled Marzia’s head and kissed her softly. I had completely forgotten about them.

“About time,” Oliver winked at his friend, then turned to me. “Help me get another round of drinks?” I was so perplexed by his unexpected question that I could only nod and follow him wordlessly.

---

Oliver

I didn’t want to be alone with Chiara, so on a whim, I asked Elio to accompany me to the bar. I knew I needed to talk to her alone, and soon, but tonight was not the time. Elio followed me wordlessly, and as we stood by the bar and waited for our time to order, we watched the people on the dancefloor.

“I’m happy for Claudio and Marzia,” I said, hoping that this time my attempts at polite conversation would not put him off.

“Hm,” Elio nodded. I raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

Ah, the exasperation in his tone was back.

“Nothing. I just thought you might be happy for her as well. She is your friend, right?”

“Yes. And I am happy for her. I only fear that Claudio won’t take their relationship as seriously as she does.”

“How come?” I motioned to the bartender and placed our order, giving him time to ponder his answer.

“For starters, they live and study not only in different cities, but on different continents. How is that going to work? And then, not that I want to be unkind, but my impression of him is that he is a rather whimsical character. I don’t know him well enough, but his moods seem unpredictable.”

It was, interestingly, a rather accurate description of Claudio, but he was my friend, and I didn’t want Elio to speak of him so harshly.

“And how do you come to that conclusion?” I challenged him.

“By observing how he interacts with people. You, Pedro, my parents, John. I also think that he thinks Marzia and I have something going on, which couldn’t be further from the truth . It’s in the way he looks at me when I talk to her in French.”

“Maybe it’s simply impolite of you to do so, knowing that he doesn’t understand a word you are speaking. You intentionally exclude him from the conversation instead of making him feel welcomed like a good friend would.”

“Are you implying I’m not a good friend to Marzia because I watch out for her?”

Elio was by now clearly upset with me, and not trying to hide it.

“Look, I admire the bond between you, but you act like a jealous sibling. Love is not a limited resource. She has enough of it in her heart to love you both.”

He glared at me, and his cheeks had coloured with anger. I looked around to see if anyone had noticed our argument, but no one seemed to care, and our friends were deep into conversation.

“How dare you insult me like that! Why are you so full of disdain? I don’t understand why Chiara likes you so much.”

“Believe me, I don’t understand it either. But I believe we had that conversation before. As for your other accusations: I didn’t mean it as an insult, and I apologize. I’m not full of disdain, though, and if you are as perceptive as you claim to be, you would have noticed that I support my friends, and thus it is MY duty to watch out for Claudio, just the way you watch out for Marzia. I could ask the same questions you did, but I chose not to because that is something only the two of them can know. They have to navigate their relationship on their own, like every grown-up does. But maybe that is something you know nothing about. Please excuse me.”

By now, I was so angry as well, probably more at myself for starting this argument than at Elio, that I knew I wouldn’t be good company. I brought half of the drinks over to our table and let Elio carry the rest. I told Pedro that I wasn’t feeling well, grabbed my bike and left the venue.

The night air cooled my face and thus my mood, and by the time I had reached the crossroad to the villa, I decided that I wanted to take an extra lap to get rid of the alcohol in my system. I cycled along the deserted country roads, the sparse streetlamps shining my way. I thought about friendships, relationships and family, about different lives and how each of us are shaped by our social contexts; I thought about life on different continents, and love between different cultural backgrounds. When I returned to the crossroad, I stopped my bike and looked down the gravel path that would bring me back to the Perlman villa. I leaned my forearms on the handlebar of my bike and simply stood there, letting the darkness of the night settle my emotions.

Was I jealous of Claudio’s and Marzia’s love?

How must it feel to find THAT person, one’s proverbial missing other half?

I might have come close, but then lost it all. How much of that was my doing? And how right was Elio with his judgment of me?

Chapter Text

Elio

I was still fuming long after Oliver had left and I might accidentally have drunk more alcohol than I wanted to. But then I decided to dance my anger away on the dancefloor, let whoever wanted to dance with me touch me, and soon felt light-headed by the music flowing through my veins. Or maybe also by the alcohol…

At some point, John wrapped his arm around my waist and suggested that he help me get home, which was fine with me. I could still drive in a straight line, just a little slower than usual.

“I saw you arguing with that arrogant Oliver,” John said, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.

“Wasn’t worth it,” I said, keeping my focus on the road ahead to prevent hitting a tree.

“If you say so. I would still keep an eye on him if I were you. He seems like the kind of person who would destroy other people’s happiness because he is miserable himself. I bet he tries to talk Claudio out of his love for Marzia.”

“You can’t talk people out of love. And if you can, then they didn’t love genuinely enough,” I said.

“Elio, you are such a romantic!” He chuckled, and we drove on, nearing the villa. “It’s what I love about you.”

“Huh?”

My mistake was looking up towards him instead of keeping my eyes ahead. I momentarily lost my balance and before I knew it, I had fallen over to the left.

“…ouch…” My bike was lying on top of me, and I couldn’t fathom the energy to get up. Next to me, John laughed his ass off.

“…not funny…,” I grumbled and tried to push the bike away from me.

“Oh, you are. And quite cute when you’re drunk.”

Something about his tone unnerved me, and I quickly got up and back on my bike, pushing the pedals to bring some distance between us. I felt dizzy and wanted to get home and in my bed.

“Elio, wait!” He came up next to me. “Don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry for laughing at you.”

“It’s fine, John. I’m just tired.”

He nodded, and luckily we didn’t talk much until we reached the crossroad where he had to turn right and I left. I told him I was okay to go the last meters on my own, and we bid our goodbyes.

The villa was dark, and the only light came from the window to Oliver’s room. I could see him smoking a cigarette on the balcony that connected our rooms, staring into the sky full of stars. I didn’t understand him at all, and that vexed me more than it should have. Additionally, I couldn’t deny what everyone else saw at least on his outside as well: That he was extremely good-looking, with his well-defined muscles and his blond hair, with his intense blue eyes, his deep, melodious voice, the way he carried himself, the way he spoke. I knew that my father liked him, too, and that even our housekeeper had taken a liking in him.

But what else was it they saw in him that I was missing?

---

Oliver

I had stayed up too late, and when I woke up the next morning, I realized I had overslept and missed breakfast. The others would probably already be out and about, and I had no inclination to join them today. I took a quick shower, grabbed my book and walked downstairs, hoping to grab a cup of coffee or maybe a piece of toast to last me until the next meal.

On my way to the kitchen, I met Annella, and one look at me must have told her that I was, if not hungover, then definitely very tired.

“You look in dire need of coffee, my dear. Come, sit with me in the cool living room. I was about to make some espresso. And you simply must try Mafalda’s Torta della Nonna. It’s a typical Italian custard pie.”

“Wow, that sounds delicious.” I gave her my most grateful smile, and she patted my arm in an affectionate gesture that brought unexpected tears to my eyes.

“Ah, maybe you need more than just an espresso and a sweet delight.” She pressed my hand and I had to bite on my lip. I really didn’t want to break down in front of her.

She must have sensed my inner turmoil and left me getting comfortable on the sofa before she returned with a tray that she put down on the coffee table.

“Here you go, tesoro.” She handed me a cup and a plate and sat down next to me, closing her eyes as she inhaled the coffee scent.

“I love this time of the day, when everything is quiet, my husband is working in his study, and I can meditate on whatever troubles me. Sitting with one’s feelings can be quite cathartic, don’t you think?”

“Depends on what one does with those feelings,” I said. She waited for me to continue.

“For example, if I don’t ask myself why I’m feeling the way I’m feeling, and what actions I could take moving forward, what good does it do me to sit with my feelings? Nothing will happen if I don’t reflect on them.”

Annella weighed her head in consideration.

“And what do you reflect upon today, Oliver?”

The question took me completely off guard. I blinked and drew in a shuddering breath. Then I thought, whatever, I had nothing to lose.

“Last night, I had so many thoughts on life, family, friendship and love. I recently went through a break-up, you see.” I looked down into my cup.

“And now you are nursing a broken heart?” She asked.

“Ah, I thought so, but last night, I realized that maybe I was grieving something else. I’m not sure if he was my true love. Because… if he were, then he would have chosen to stand by me, right?”

Suddenly my eyes were stinging. I wasn’t sure why I was sitting here, with this woman, telling her about my sorrows.

She pursed her lips, pondering my words.

“What did you wish he had stood by you for?”

I swallowed. I had never in my life spoken to anyone like this. Not even my mother. And that thought was what made me sniff and brush away some stray tears.

“It’s complicated. But my parents found out that I was in a relationship with a man and not with the woman they thought was my girlfriend. They were furious when they heard about it, and my boyfriend was angry that I wasn’t out to my parents. Which was what he named as the reason why he cheated on me. Anyway, It was quite a mess. My parents haven’t spoken to me since. That’s how disappointed they are in me and that I’m bisexual, now single, and not married to a woman.”

“Maybe they are not disappointed in you, but rather in the fact that they learnt about you from someone else. I, certainly, would have been sad if someone other than my son told me about his sexuality. I feel grateful that he confided in us years ago.”

She looked upset, and I understood her point, but wasn’t too sure about my own parents. At the same time, something else occurred to me, but I refused to dwell on it. We sat in silence for a moment.

“So, you think there is still a chance if I called them?”

Annella smiled at me and took my hand in hers. “Of course, Oliver. A parents’ love for their child won’t end just because of who they fall in love with.”

“What if I never fall in love with a woman again?”

She tsked and smiled at me affectionately. “Then they will have to accept this. We don’t choose who we fall in love with. Once our hearts have made up their minds, it’s over for our brains.” She placed her palm over my heart. “Listen to it, Oliver. And please call your parents.”

---

Elio

I was quite hungover the next day and decided to spend some time by the pool. I had brought my headphones to listen to some music but must have dozed off straight away. When I woke up again, it was already afternoon, and I was famished. I walked towards the patio where I saw Chiara and my mom sitting, chatting over coffee and sandwiches.

“Ah, thank god, food!” I let myself fall into an empty chair and grabbed one of the sandwiches.

My mother chuckled and ruffled my hair.

“Ciao, Chiara,” I finally greeted her. “How are you? Did you get home okay last night?”

She rolled her eyes at me and took a drag of her cigarette.

“Yeah, I did. Pedro walked me home. Oliver was gone, you and John had disappeared, and Marzia and Claudio had taken off to her place.”

“Oh,” I said lamely. She pursed her lips, then looked between me and my mom.

“I came to see Oliver,” Chiara said. I raised my eyebrows and waited for her to continue. “He told me that he liked me as a friend, but that he doesn’t have feelings for me and doesn’t want me to think he had intentionally been flirting with me.”

“Oh!” I said, and inwardly slapped myself for this low level of eloquence.

“And now we are having a little girl chat about boys,” my mother winked at me.

“Ah, should I leave?” I asked, ready to get up.

“Depends. Feel free to state your take on romance,” Chiara said with a grin.

“Romance? Not sure that I can offer any insight at the moment,” I said and pulled a face.

Chiara giggled at me, then straightened her spine to appear taller than she was.

“It’s a truth universally acknowledged that romance is totally overrated!”

“Huh?” I blinked at Chiara, and she at me. 

“What?” She asked.

“Did you just really quote Jane Austen?”

“Who?”

Out of the corner of my eyes I could see my mom’s amused expression.

“Oh, no one important. Just some English writer.”

“Well, how did you expect me to know that?” Chiara threw me a glare, but then we all burst out laughing. It felt good to sit with them like this, and I was glad that Chiara wasn’t too upset about her failed summer romance. I also felt strangely proud of Oliver for telling her; I knew that eventually I might need to have a similar conversation with John, and I wasn’t looking forward to it. We hadn’t been close over the last years since graduating from high-school, yet I didn’t want to put a strain on our friendship.

A little later, after Chiara had left, my mother and I remained sitting outside, and by the way she was looking at me, I knew she had something to say.

“You are getting on well with our guests.”

“Mhm.” I was waiting for her to lead the conversation.

“And with your new room neighbor? Oliver?”

Ah, there it was.

I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s okay.”

She hummed and lit one of my cigarettes. As a teen, I had stolen hers, so now it was her turn to steal one of mine.

“He is shy,” she stated.

“Shy?” I furrowed my brow. “Everyone is always looking at him.”

“Oh, like a movie star,” my mom said with a smile. “Shiny on the outside, but what truly matters is hidden deep inside of him, not for the world to see.”

“I don’t know,” I said, and at this moment, I honestly didn’t want to know. Or discuss Oliver with my mom.

“He might be in need of a friend.”

“He HAS friends. He came here with two, remember?”

“Maybe a confidant , then.” She used the French word, hinting at the slightly different connotation.

“Maybe he just needs to get laid,” I muttered under my breath, but loud enough that my mother had heard. She threw me a disapproving look.

“Sorry,” I apologized, whether to her or Oliver in his absence wasn’t clear to me then.

Luckily, our conversation changed to Marzia and Claudio, and how everyone thought they made a great pair. In the end, it was the telephone that ended our chat, as my aunt was calling my mother.

I stretched my arms over my head and decided to take a walk through the orchard. On my way, I picked up some peaches and ate them while I was walking. I was about to round another hedge, when I heard voices and someone mentioning my name. I stopped, not wanting to eavesdrop, but also doing exactly that.

I could make out Pedro, Chiara, Marzia and Claudio talking to each other, but had missed the beginning of their conversation.

“Elio is too stubborn to see,” Marzia sighed.

I furrowed my brow. What exactly was I too stubborn to see?

“Oliver is the same,” Pedro said. “Still too heart-broken to acknowledge that he likes Elio more than he lets on.”

What?! I accidentally dropped my peach to the ground where i t landed with a soft thud which I hoped went unnoticed by the group.

“I definitely see things clearer now,” Chiara chuckled. “Oliver didn’t flirt with me, but he hoped to catch Elio’s attention.”

My mouth fell open at that. What else had I missed?

“Ah, but maybe it’s for the best,” Marzia said. “Elio is not interested in a relationship right now. It would only break poor Oliver’s heart even more.”

I wished I could tell all of them a piece of my mind, but clearly that wasn’t possible without admitting to my eavesdropping.

“Poor Oliver, indeed,” Claudio added with a grave voice. “He’s a good man. Do you think we should try to find someone else for him? To make it easier for him to forget about Elio?”

It was Mazia again who answered: “I don’t think that’s a good idea. It will provoke Elio just like the way it provoked him to see Oliver flirt with you, Chiara.”

“Maybe I should talk to him?” Pedro suggested. “Elio and I have been friendly; he seems like a really nice guy. Surely, if I asked him to be gentle with Oliver, he would?”

Of course I would! Poor Oliver! I would never want to see him heartbroken and be the reason for it!

“Yeah, maybe. But we must not mention any of this to Oliver,” Claudio said. “He has enough on his plate with his parents and his ex. He deserves happiness, but if it’s not Elio, then the only thing we can do is protect his heart.”

The group moved away from me, and I had to sit down on the dry grass to digest what I had just heard.

Was Oliver really in love with me? How had I not seen this?

I remembered that it was Oliver himself who had accused me of not being perceptive. Maybe he had meant that with regard to himself?

The peach I had dropped in my shock was still lying next to me, and I picked it up and turned it over in my hands, pondering what to do.

Apparently, my mom had been right about Oliver as well.

Apparently, everyone had been right about him, and I was the only one too blind to see that he was only trying to get my attention, maybe to have a real conversation with me. And instead, I had only offered him scorn and had argued with him over nothings.

I groaned in frustration.

Apparently, I had some amends to make.

Chapter Text

Oliver

The Perlmans had scheduled a dinner party for tonight, some friends from Rome they were eager Pedro and I should meet and discuss academic matters for our research. On the one hand, I was looking forward to having this intellectual exchange, but on the other hand I rather felt like being alone. I had discovered a spot behind the orchard where no one ever seemed to come, and my plan was to go on a walk before dinner, then sit through the meal and hopefully gain some insight that might bring my next book forward, then venture back to my hiding place to think about whatever would take place during the dinner conversations.

I made sure to secretly slip out of the house as I didn’t want Pedro or Claudio to trap me on my way out. But I was lucky, and soon found myself sitting on some old stony remains of what must have been the official entrance steps to the orchard about a century ago. I had brought my journal to write down some thoughts and ideas, when I suddenly heard voices approaching. I cursed under my breath and hid behind a hedge, hoping that the intruders would leave quickly.

The voices were drawing closer, and I could clearly hear Pedro say: “… and are you quite sure that Elio said he was falling in love with Oliver?”

Say what now?!?

“He didn’t want me to tell you guys about it, but to be honest, as his best friend, it’s hard for me to see him like this,” Marzia said in her soft voice.

“Of course it is,” Claudio said, and I was sure he was hugging her with one arm to his chest to comfort her.

“And it’s not as if Elio would ever act upon his feelings, right?” Chiara chimed in.

“It might be for the better,” Pedro said with a sigh. “Look, Oliver is very dear to me, but I also know that his pride can hover into an aloofness that pushes people away. He probably wants to protect his own heart, but I can see why Elio is afraid to approach him in that way.”

I gasped, and probably would have defended myself, if not for the fact that I couldn’t reveal I had been eavesdropping on them. So I remained hidden, eager to learn more.

“Are you saying it would be better for Elio to squelch his feelings? Maybe even find someone else?” Marzia asked. “You know, even though he might try to hide it, he is a romantic soul secretly waiting to be swept off his feet.”

“Who wouldn’t want to be swept off their feet by someone like Oliver,” Chiara sighed. “He is so handsome, funny, and intelligent.”

I smirked; poor Chiara. I was feeling a little sorry I didn’t reciprocate her feelings. But then also poor Elio, who was scared I would break his heart when I would never do that to him!

“Maybe if we find someone else for Elio, we could let him down gently?” Claudio asked, and I felt my pulse pick up speed. Someone else for Elio? Also, I knew from experience that ‘fucking your pain away’ as the song goes with another meaningless person usually hurt even more because it wasn’t the one the heart was desiring. A substitute-lover, nothing more.

I shook my head. Something needed to be done. As the group was moving back towards the villa, I vowed to be kinder to Elio. He deserved to be happy, and what was more, he deserved to be loved and cherished.

---

Elio

Over dinner, I was seated on the other end of the table from Oliver which gave me the perfect opportunity to observe him closely. He was speaking to my father’s friends, and I noticed the sparkle in his eyes whenever the other researcher would mention something particularly interesting. He looked as excited as a child opening a Christmas present, and something about this image made me smile.

“You seem to be in a good mood tonight,” Marzia nudged my arm.

“Yeah, well, we are having great food and delicious wine in good company. What’s not to like?” I winked at her.

“Oliver seems to enjoy the conversation,” she said and wiped some left-over olive oil from her plate with a piece of bread.

I hummed noncommittal, but let my eyes wander back to the other side of the table. Oliver had picked up his wine glass, and I realized that despite his tall frame, he had delicate wrists and long, slender fingers, almost like the ones of a musician. I wondered if he played an instrument, and then why we had never really talked about our hobbies and interests like normal people would have done.

“Something on your mind?” Marzia whispered.

“No, no,” I quickly shook my head and took a sip of wine to disguise my absentmindedness.

“Elio, will you play for us later?” Pedro interrupted our chat. Suddenly, all eyes turned towards me, and I felt myself blush, especially when I saw this one set of deep-blue eyes landing on me with an intense but unreadable gaze.

“Uhm, sure. Yeah,” I nodded and awkwardly cleared my throat. “Anything in particular you want me to play?”

“No, not really. Something that fits the mood of this beautiful evening,” Pedro smiled warmly, and it made me instantly feel better. Yet, my heart was beating wildly in my chest as I was going through a list of possible songs I could play, songs that would attract Oliver’s attention and communicate to him that he was safe with me, that I would not hurt him further. When I looked back into his directions, our eyes met for a brief moment, and I felt my breath hitch in my throat. I quickly got up and excused myself, declaring that I needed to prepare for my performance, which earned me a raised eyebrow from both my parents. I had been performing for their guests from an early age on and had never shown any signs of stage fright, but right now, my nerves were jittery, and I knew they could sense that something was off, but luckily did not comment on it. I knew that they would inquire later, though.

I made my way inside and stopped at the book case which held a collection of sheet music, pretending to leaf through it when in truth the action soothed me.

“I’m sure Pedro won’t insist on you playing if you don’t feel like doing it.”

I startled and turned around, finding Oliver standing in the doorframe.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to… I was just…,” Oliver stuttered. “Ah, never mind.” He was about to walk away, and I couldn’t have that.

“Stay. Please.” I didn’t recognize my own voice, how pleading it sounded.

I watched him hesitate and swallow, then nod.

“I feel like we’ve started off on the wrong foot, and that is mostly my fault.” I nervously scratched my neck. “Do you think we could start over?” Something flickered across his face, but it was gone in an instant. He nodded and smiled at me.

“I would like that, yes.”

“Cool,” I said, feeling a little childish but nothing more eloquent came to my mind.

“Have you found something to play that fits Pedro’s request?” Oliver pointed to the bookcase behind me.

“Maybe, yeah. Do you have a request as well?” I tilted my head to the side, curious if he would reveal something about himself.

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t dare.”

“Whyever not?” I was curious.

“Because I’m no expert on music. You are. So you would be the one to know best how to capture an atmosphere in a song.”

I blinked at him in surprise. No one had ever complimented my skills in such a suave way.

“Sorry, did I offend you?” Oliver looked crestfallen at my inability to give an immediate retort.

“No, of course not. It was just unexpected.” I shrugged my shoulders and kept my eyes on his, hoping to sound reassuring. And how was it that such a tall, self-confident man could be reduced to someone shrinking in on himself just because of my opinion? I suddenly remembered my mother’s words about him hiding who he really was from everyone else.

“Well, anyway, I should probably leave you to it.” Oliver nodded, and with one last smile over his shoulder, went back outside.

---

Oliver

I had no idea why I had followed Elio inside. During dinner, I had repeatedly felt his eyes on me, and it had made me nervous, yet also excited. Now that I knew how he felt about me, I wanted, no, needed to be close to him, make him feel cherished and safe. There was this sudden urge to comfort him and to take care of him, wrap him in my arms and hold him tight. I had to shake my head and use all my strength to focus on my conversation partner, when all I wanted to do was be alone with Elio, talk to him, get to know him.

Thus, when he went inside, I followed him without a thought, as if he had magnetically drawn me inside as well.

Truth be told, our encounter had left me even more shaken up, and I had no idea how to process my emotions. What made it even worse was Elio’s breathtaking performance later that night. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, mesmerized by how he lost himself in the music, how he captured everyone and created exactly what Pedro had asked him earlier.

While Elio was playing his last song for the night, I recalled the conversation I had accidentally overheard. Marzia had called him a romantic soul, and I felt that reflected through his music. There was so much longing in his play, so much raw emotion he put on display, that his braveness put tears to my eyes.

Here he was, right in front of me, and I hadn’t seen him at all. Or maybe I had, but only the physical body, not the feeling person inside. I swallowed and sighed, hoping that no one would notice my emotional turmoil. But that was probably in vain, and when I averted my eyes, I noticed Annella watching me with a melancholy smile on her lips. She was probably thinking about our conversation, and that I hadn’t called my parents yet, even though I had promised her I would.

I knew I needed to get my feelings back under control, to think about things rationally. Elio, my parents, my life in general.

The performance ended, and while I was sad that the music had come to an end, I was also glad that I could leave the party and be alone for a while.

---

Elio

I watched Oliver leave, but not before gaining a glimpse at his face. It shook me deeply to see all the emotions he was so carefully trying to hide from everyone to see. 

Oh, poor Oliver! I wanted to sit next to him, let him rest his head on my shoulder, and just let him be. I knew that he had recently gone through a bad breakup and was also having problems with his family, and my heart went out to him.

One part of me debated following him immediately, but the other hesitated, and that was when my father caught me.

“Elio, do you think you could spare your papa a moment?” He winked at me conspiratorially, as we both knew that was our code for a night cap. I followed him to his study where we both sat down on his old leather couch, and he handed me a glass with some dark, amber liquid. We made a silent toast and simultaneously took a sip.

“Nothing better than a heartwarming drink to secure heartwarming dreams,” he joked.

“Maybe you should have offered Oliver the drink, then.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

“Is that so?” My father looked at me in amusement and I rolled my eyes.

“I’m just saying. He looked crestfallen, that's all.”

“Your maman had a little chat with him,” my dad nodded.

“She did?” I furrowed my brow, but he only raised an eyebrow at me, meaning ‘You know her.’

We sat in silence for a while, and I tried to order my thoughts to say what I wanted to say. My dad seemed to wait, and I was glad for his patience.

“Do you think Marzia and Claudio will be happy with each other?” I needed to find my way to what I truly wanted to say by talking about something else first. I knew he understood.

“Marzia is the sweetest girl I’ve ever known,” my father smiled. “Claudio might need some more time to grow up, and he is lucky that someone as kind and forgiving as Marzia will be by his side to guide him.”

I nodded.

My father placed his glass on the side table and lit a cigarette. He offered me one, but I declined and shook my head.

“Oliver might need a friend, you know,” he said, looking at me directly. “And you care about him.”

“But can I be the friend he needs right now?” I pursed my lips and stared at the remaining liquor in my glass.

My father tousled my hair. “Elly-belly, it might be exactly what you both need. Don’t overthink it, let it happen organically.”

I snorted, and he joined me with a chuckle. “Okay, dad.” We both knew it was his way of letting me know that he was well aware that whatever was going to happen organically, might as well be more than a friendship, and he was softly teasing me about it. I didn’t mind. In fact, I was happy to know that my parents understood me and supported me.

“Thanks for the drink. But I’m tired and better get some rest,” I placed my glass on his desk on my way out. He waved at me and wished me goodnight.

---

Oliver

I heard Elio enter the bathroom, the flush of the toilet, the water running in the sink, and then the door to his room click shut. In the silence of the house, the creaking of his bed frame as he turned around to find a comfortable sleeping position sounded loudly through the door that separated our rooms. I hugged my pillow closer, wishing it could be Elio, and that our close proximity would help him settle down, then fall asleep. I would watch over him until my eyes would grow heavy as well, making sure he felt protected in my arms.

After retiring to my room, I had sat down at the desk and wrote down whatever came to my mind, trying to get a hold of my feelings. Things were still fuzzy, but it had helped me to calm myself down a little. I had even noted down some things I wanted to say to my parents, and rehearsing the phone call in my mind had made me feel less anxious about it.

Tomorrow, I had vowed to myself. Tomorrow, I would call them.

Chapter Text

Elio

I had woken up at dawn, and unable to fall back asleep, I had taken my journal to sit outside with a cup of tea. I had brought a jumper as the air could get quite chilly in the early morning hours. The sun brought a golden touch to the trees and flowers, and sitting down on the stone steps that led to the garden, I felt like sitting in a Monet painting. I closed my eyes and turned my face towards the sky, and when I opened them again, Oliver was standing right in front of me, panting, running shirt drenched in sweat.

“You are up early,” he commented, breathing heavily. I swallowed, willing my eyes to stay somewhere close to his face, and not the wet fabric that was hugging his muscular chest.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I said. “Did you have a good run?”

“Yeah, it wasn’t bad.” 

We stared at each other, both clearly searching for words.

“Would you like to join me tomorrow?” Oliver asked.

“Oh, uhm, I don’t know if I will be able to keep up with you,” I stuttered. “I mean, I do run sometimes, but I’m not very fast.”

He shrugged. “Fine with me.”

I smiled. “Okay, then. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you have to carry me back home.”

He laughed softly, and his eyes were sparkling in that beautiful way I had seen last night.

“Anyway, I should go upstairs. I need a shower.”

“Uhum, yeah, sure.” I nodded and moved a little to the side so that he could climb up the stairs. The movement dislocated the pen I had placed on top of my journal on my lap, and it clattered to the ground.

“Here, let me,” Oliver crouched down in front of me and picked it up, our faces now on the same level.

“Thank you,” I said, captured by how close he was.

“You keep a journal?” He pointed to the notebook.

“Yeah,” I felt myself blush.

“Me, too. Helps a lot with…things.”

I grinned. “Yeah. Things.”

We both burst out laughing.

“Okay, I’ll better leave you to it. See you later for breakfast?”

“Yes, Oliver, see you later.”

He held my gaze for a moment, and I realized it was the first time I had called him by his name.

---

Oliver

I turned the temperature in the shower to the coldest I could possibly stand and took some calming breaths. Back in my room, I was about to select some clothes for the day, looking at my outfit in the mirror in the corner, when there was a knock on my door and Pedro and Claudio poked their heads inside.

“Well, good morning, Oliver,” Pedro beamed at me. “Don’t you look dapper today!”

Claudio snickered and I threw him a disapproving glance.

“Shut up,” I said, but in jest. “I just felt that today is a green linen shirt day.”

“Uhum,” Pedro nodded and looked me up and down. “I think it suits you. Blue is more your color, though. Brings out your eyes.”

“It does?” I frowned.

“It does,” Claudio affirmed, rummaging around in my suitcase and presenting me with my light blue shirt instead. I shrugged and changed into the garment, indulging my friends in their fashion advice. No harm in that.

“Ready for breakfast now?” Pedro asked. I raked my fingers through my still wet hair, hoping it would stay in place. My two friends exchanged a not-so-subtle look that I chose to ignore, and together we walked downstairs.

Sitting around the breakfast table were Elio, and to my surprise also John. I hadn’t seen him since our night at La Dancing, and to be completely honest, I hadn’t missed his presence. What alerted me even more was that Elio wasn’t exactly looking comfortable.

“Ah, Oliver. Good morning,” he greeted me jovially, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. I nodded and poured myself some coffee.

“I was just stopping by, seeing if Elio would come for a swim with me. And of course, also see if Claudio had made it home safe last night.”

Claudio frowned. “Made it home safe last night? But I was here.”

“Hm, strange, I could have sworn that I saw you with Marzia when I cycled past her house around one o’clock, on my way back from a party.”

“No, I walked her home earlier, after Elio’s performance. We were both rather tired, and I was happy when I arrived in my room and fell asleep immediately.”

John shrugged his shoulders, but I knew exactly what he was doing. Elio must have sensed it as well, but it was too late to stop him.

“Might have been mistaken, with how engaged the couple was in quite a heated make-out session! They looked hot as hell. And the woman was wearing this flower dress I had seen on Marzia. But anyway. I have to go. Elio, I expect to see you down by the lake later! See you, guys.”

He stood up and left, but one look at Claudio’s face revealed that the damage was done.

“I’m sure he mistook the woman for someone else,” Elio offered, but Claudio threw him an angry glare.

“And how do you know? For all I know, it could have been you making out with her, with how familiar you two act.”

“I’m pretty much gay, thank you very much,” Elio commented dryly and got up, understandably upset with the accusations against himself and his best friend.

“Elio,” I started, but he shook his head and walked inside. I sighed and turned to Claudio, but Pedro beat me to it.

“Look, I’m sure it is a misunderstanding. Marzia loves you. That is clear for everyone to see. Why don’t you go talk to her?” Pedro gently placed his hand over Claudio’s arm to sooth the tension.

“Yeah, sure,” Claudio huffed. “But I fear that has to wait. She and Chiara wanted to go on a shopping trip to Milan today. Please excuse me, I need to be alone.”

Claudio got up and left Pedro and me sitting at the breakfast table.

“Well, that’s a way to start the day,” Pedro commented and shook his head. “Something is off here, don’t you agree?”

“Most definitely, yes. But what does John have to gain by separating Marzia and Claudio?”

Pedro leaned back in his chair and crossed his hands over his stomach. “Oliver, that’s the thing I love about you most. As a researcher, but also as a person. You always try to get down to the facts. This time, I fear I'm at a bit of a loss.”

I patted his shoulder. “Then let’s do what we researchers always do: Find out the truth.”

He laughed, and I was glad to have him as my friend.

---

Elio

After I had heard John’s accusations, I had tried to call Marzia, but she didn’t pick up her phone. I cursed under my breath, and rushed back outside, ready to grab my bike and drive over to her place, when I remembered that she wouldn’t be home today. In my distress, I ran back inside and didn’t pay attention to the person standing in the hallway and collided full force with Oliver.

“Ouch!” I rubbed my head.

“Hey, careful!”

I felt his big hands gently holding me by my upper arms and guiding me to the sofa that stood close to our ancient telephone. I felt dizzy with anxiety about Marzia, and that must have triggered one of my nosebleeds. I had got them a lot when I was younger, but not so much anymore, so the red flow dripping out of my nose came as a surprise.

I heard Oliver gasp in shock and press a tissue in my hand.

“Shit, Elio! Are you okay? Should I call an ambulance?”

“No, no, it’s fine. Uhm, do you think you could get me some ice, please?”

He was gone in an instant and rushed back with an ice pack and a box of tissues, then sat down next to me. While I was busy wiping blood from my face, he picked up my feet and placed them on the sofa, massaging my ankles. I pressed the ice against my nose and sighed.

“How are you feeling?” Oliver asked softly, proceeding to knead my feet. It felt like heaven, and it took me a moment to answer.

“Exhausted. And it’s not even noon,” I grinned, attempting a joke.

“Pedro is trying to find out what happened last night. Neither of us believes John’s story, but we need to make sure Claudio understands as well.”

I hummed, glad that at least two of the three friends possessed enough reason to see the ploy for what it was.

“Do you have any idea why John would lie about Marzia?” Oliver asked, moving from my right foot to my left. I winced when I heard my toes crack, but then Oliver kissed the inside of my ankle, and I felt heat flush all over my body.

“Elio?”

“Uhm, no, sorry, I don’t. John has always been like this. But I always thought he liked Marzia as a friend. So maybe it’s about Claudio? Do they have any connection?”

I watched Oliver’s face, fascinated to literally see him running a million theories through his mind.

“I might have an idea, but I need to talk to Pedro first to confirm it. You should rest a little. Do you want me to help you upstairs?”

“I have a better idea. Are you free until lunch?”

Oliver furrowed his brow. “I guess I am, since I don’t know exactly when Pedro will be back.”

“Then why don’t we take the bikes and some snacks, and I’ll show you a place that always helps me think? It’s not far, and I can rest there while you run some theories by me, or simply write them down and cross out the most impossible ones.”

“Are you sure a bike ride isn’t too exhausting for you right now?”

The honest concern with which Oliver looked at me made me want to throw myself into his arms, but instead I smiled at him and touched his arm.

“We’ll just go slow.”

Again, he held my gaze, and nodded slowly. “Okay.” It sounded like a promise for more.

---

Oliver

I wasn’t convinced that Elio should be on a bike, but I made sure he drank lots of water, that he was wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap, and that we cycled as slowly as possible on bikes without toppling to the side. But he had been right, and the place wasn’t too far away. It was a hidden berm, and the trees standing nearby offered enough shade for us to sit.

Elio walked into the narrow water of the little lake and waded into the middle, waiting for me to follow.

“Whoa, it’s freezing!” I had not expected the water to be that cold.

“I know. But it feels refreshing, right?” He grinned at me.

I couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, but I knew that his eyes were sparkling with joy. As soon as my feet had adjusted to the temperature, I walked up to Elio. He was tall, but still had to look up to fully face me. I had to swallow, unsure what to do.

The first thing that came to my mind was: “I like the way you say things.”

Elio tilted his head and smiled. “I like the way you say things, too.”

I wanted to say so much more, but couldn’t and was relieved when Elio turned around to find us a place in the grass. When I followed, he was already splayed out, his arms crossed behind his head. I lowered myself next to him, but couldn’t stop looking at his face, the sharp angle of his jaw, his fine nose and delicate lips. My mind was clouded with want, and I couldn’t recollect a situation when I had ever felt that way.

Elio removed his sunglasses, mirrored my position, propped his upper body up on one arm , and let his eyes rest on my lips. I swallowed hard, moving a little closer to indicate that if he wanted to kiss me, I was very much on board with that.

And he took me by surprise yet again, licked my lips with the tip of his tongue before finally meeting me in a kiss that left me completely breathless.

---

Elio

The rational side of my brain remarked that maybe it wasn’t morally correct to make out with Oliver while I should be worrying for my best friend, but the rest of my brain was overcome by primal lust, and it was this part that won, pushed Oliver on his back and had me straddle his hips. We kissed heatedly until we needed to come up for air, and Oliver stretched out his arms to the side, closed his eyes and panted heavily.

“You okay?” I asked.

“I feel like it should be me asking you this question, but then I’m the one who’s feeling dizzy now.” He chuckled and opened his eyes to look at me.

“But seriously, are you okay?” I touched his cheek and he caught my hand and kissed the tips of my fingers.

“Very much okay. And you?”

I grinned. “Very much okay so, too.”

“I thought you didn’t like me,” Oliver said, his eyebrows drawing together with worry, and I soothed them back with my fingers.

“Well, I thought you didn’t like me, too.”

Oliver snorted. “No, I found you intriguing, and dangerously attractive. I just didn’t know what to do about it.”

“Dangerously attractive – have you looked in the mirror lately?” I playfully poked him in the chest, and he rolled us over in one smooth movement, trapping my body under his. The position made my heartbeat pick up speed, and he must have felt it.

“Sorry. Still okay?” He carefully brushed some stray curls away from my forehead.

“Me okay. Can we kiss some more?”

He didn’t answer but leaned down to brush his lips against mine, and I hugged him closer, forgetting everything around us.

Chapter Text

Oliver

Kissing Elio was heaven! The only reason we stopped was when we both felt ourselves getting carried away and had to walk back into the icy water to cool off. We stood with our feet in the lake, bashfully angling our bodies away from each other in a hilarious attempt to hide our very obvious and impressive physical reactions; one look at each other had us topple over in laughter.

“I swear, I haven’t felt this way since I was a teenager,” Elio giggled and gestured towards his nether regions.

“Same,” I looked down at the situation in my own shorts.

“Okay, once our problem goes away, we need to talk about Marzia and Claudio, and what John’s issue is.”

That seemed to have done the trick, and we were finally able to get back to our spot in the grass. I pulled my notebook and a bottle of water from the backpack we had brought, motioned Elio to drink , and started scribbling down their names on a blank page.

“Let’s start with Marzia and Claudio, because I feel they should be the easiest.” I drew a circle around both their names. “I know Claudio through Pedro. His father is a famous lawyer. Claudio and Marzia met while she was on an educational trip to London, correct?”

Elio nodded and leaned over. “And against all odds, they kept in touch. They both seemed pretty serious about this relationship, so I don’t get why Claudio would be so easily persuaded by John.”

I tapped my pen against his name. “What kind of guy is he? You went to school together?”

“High school, yes. But I have no idea what he has been up to since then. We have met occasionally, either in Milan or here during summers. Marzia hinted that he might have been flirting with me, but honestly this idea makes me rather uncomfortable. I can’t explain why.”

I turned my head and looked at him. “…but in the past…?” I tried to ask, and Elio understood.

“No, never. We were friends, but nothing more.”

I felt relieved, but didn’t want to think about it further. Elio must have sensed my mood, because he nuzzled my shoulder.

“No reason to be jealous. Not that I don’t like when you get possessive,” he grinned mischievously.

“I’m not possessive,” I pulled a face. “At least I hope?”

“Relax, I was joking. We are still in the getting-to-know-each-other-phase, so we will see.”

“Please make me stop if I behave like a caveman,” I felt horrible at the thought alone and it must have shown on my face.

“I don’t think you will. You have a gentle soul.” He turned my chin into his direction and pressed a soft kiss on my lips. I was instantly calmed.

“So, back to business,” Elio said, attempting seriousness and failing comically. 

“Is there a connection between John and Claudio?”

Elio pursed his lips in thought. “ Claudio’s father is a lawyer, and so is John’s. Maybe there’s something deeper here?”

I wrote down the words “father” and “lawyer” followed by a row of question marks.

“Pedro might know, he mentioned a court case before. He’s well acquainted with Claudio’s whole family. Maybe we should head back, see what has happened in our absence?”

Elio sighed and nodded. “Okay. Coming here always feels like stepping away from reality, then stepping back into it. I never feel ready.”

I bit down on my bottom lip. “Is this real to you?” I pointed between the two of us.

He opened his eyes wide. “Of course, Oliver! I didn’t mean it that way. Rather that I would like to stay here with you and hide from the world for a little longer.”

“I feel that. Maybe we can meet again later? Talk some more? I need to make a phone call to my parents first.”

“Sounds good. And maybe kiss some more?” Elio wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh, we are most definitely doing that!”

---

Elio

We slowly cycled back because Oliver constantly made sure I was okay. I was more than okay, but I also thought it was cute that he was fussing over me. And I felt that he needed this, so I let him.

Back at the villa, we met Pedro who had just returned from his trip into town, which was the perfect timing. While we were all getting comfortable around the table on the patio, Oliver quickly explained where we had run into a dead end.

“I might be able to help you out here,” Pedro said, taking a sip of water that Mafalda had brought for us.

“A couple of years ago, probably the winter after you graduated from high school, John’s father lost a prestigious case against Claudio’s father. It didn’t make much news, but it was a huge deal for the family. In the aftermath, Claudio’s father gained lots of popularity and high-profile cases and clients, while John’s father kept on losing one after another. I heard the family had to sell their vacation home in France, but apparently were able to keep their villa here.”

“You think John is holding a grudge against Claudio because of that?” It seemed a childish reaction, but then even I knew John to be someone who would play evil tricks on people, just to enjoy their suffering.

“I fear so,” Pedro said and rubbed his eyes. “The question is: Knowing Claudio, how do we persuade him that he has been played? As much as I love him as my friend, I also have to say that he cannot master his emotions. And now that he’s hurt, I fear he might do something irrational.”

“But he must know how much Marzia loves him! And what he has in her!” I was beginning to feel distressed again, and Oliver reached over to take my hand under the table.

“How about we make him remember?” Pedro mused.

“What do you mean?” Oliver looked at him and Pedro raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, no!” Oliver shook his head. I looked between the two friends, puzzled about what was going on.

“Nope, no more match-making!” Oliver declared, and it began to dawn on me.

“You made sure that Claudio and Marzia would get lots of opportunities to be alone, am I right?”

Pedro held up his hands. “It did help though, didn’t it?”

I rolled my eyes. “And how is that going to help us now?”

“You said it yourself: Claudio must know what he has in her. Now, as we all know, absence makes the heart grow fonder. So, why don’t we hide Marzia at Chiara’s place once they get back from their shopping trip, but tell Claudio that she was so upset because he believed in her cheating on him that she felt she needed to take some time and move back to Paris for the rest of the summer?”

“… I don’t know,” Oliver shook his head, his eyes full of doubt.

“What about her phone? How are we going to explain that Claudio cannot reach her? They were constantly texting back and forth.”

“Easy,” Pedro shrugged, “she turned it off because she cannot bear the thought of him.”

I had to admit that Pedro had a point.

“But will that really be enough to make him reflect upon his emotions?” Oliver asked. I suddenly remembered my father’s words, about how Marzia would help Claudio to grow.

“I think it’s worth a try. But in the meantime, I will go and talk to John.” I was feeling angry and clenched my jaw.

“Are you sure you want to do this alone?” I realized that Oliver was still holding my hand, and by now even Pedro had noticed, but only smiled at us.

“Yes,” I nodded, determined. “Marzia is my best friend, and I owe it to her. And given that John was my friend, too, it should be me.”

“Very well,” Pedro got up from his chair. “Then I’ll call Chiara and let her know that Marzia needs to stay at her place. See you later!”

All the talk about phones and calls reminded me that I hadn’t tried to reach Marzia ever since that morning. And sure enough, when I unlocked the screen, I found a string of tearful voice messages, full of sorrow over why Claudio could possibly be so angry with her.

I sighed. “I better get inside and call Marzia, make sure she is okay. Or, as okay as she can be right now.”

“Yes, absolutely.” Oliver checked his watch. “And I guess I should place my own phone call before I postpone it again.”

I laced my fingers with his for a short moment to let him know to come find me afterwards.

---

Oliver

I clutched my phone in my hand and exhaled a shaky breath. No more stalling. I scrolled for my parents’ number and pressed the call button. It rang several times, and I was almost relieved that probably no one was at home, when I heard my mother’s voice.

“Hello?”

I gasped and swallowed.

“Hello?” She asked again.

“Mom? Hey, uhm, it’s me, Oliver.” My voice was shaky, and I shook my head at how ridiculous the whole situation was. I was a grown man with a career in academics I had worked hard for, I had friends, a social life… my parents weren’t entitled to my presence in their lives. I could choose to break off contact with my family.

“Oh, my…Oliver! Wait, let me call your dad.” I was about to protest, but she was already calling him over to the phone.

“Honey! It’s Oliver! Hurry!” There was some ruffling while she put me on speakerphone , and then my father’s voice greeted me as well.

“Oliver! How are you? Is everything alright?”

Their honest concern took me aback.

“Uhm, yeah, I’m doing fine. I’m in Italy right now, with Pedro and Claudio. We are visiting Pedro’s former dissertation advisor and his family.”

“That sounds wonderful, sweetheart. We are so glad. We were worried,” my mother sighed.

“You were?”

“Of course, Oliver. You seemed to be so happy with that girl, and next thing we know, she calls us and says it was all fake, that you were dating a man.”

I swallowed and closed my eyes. “I know. It was hard for me, too.”

“We really thought… you were talking about settling down, and we thought that she was the one. But you were not happy, were you?”

“No, mom, I…,” I brushed my hand over my stinging eyes. “I thought I was, with the man I was with, you know, but he ended things with me, and, well, you know the rest.”

“We are sorry,” there was genuine sorrow in my mom’s voice, and I had to take all my strength to blink away the tears that had begun forming in earnest. I had to say one more thing.

“I know that might be hard for you to accept, but I am not straight.”

There was a moment of silence before my father spoke up: “Okay.”

What?

“What?”

He sighed. “Oliver, what do you want us to say? It is who you are, and you are also our son. It’s as simple as that.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Honey, what your dad wants to say is that it doesn’t matter to us. If that is what you thought?”

“But you were so angry,” I was at a loss.

“No, never. We were sad to learn about you from some deranged woman who screamed down the phone that she would destroy your life. And then we only heard from you once before you disappeared.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” I had given up and the tears were now flowing over my cheeks. I heard my parents sigh unisono.

“Why did you never tell us about your boyfriend? You must have been together for a while.”

“Yeah, almost a year. But I was afraid that you wouldn’t approve and thought you might want this whole marriage thing for me. With a woman.”

“We thought that was what you wanted. Because you have been in happy relationships with women before. …or not?” My father asked.

“No, I was. But… what if I never fall in love with another woman again? Are you sure that would be okay for you?”

“You fall in love with whom you fall in love.” I had never loved my dad more than in this very moment and let out a wet chuckle. It felt so stupid that I had been afraid of their reaction. True, they had been strict bringing me up, but they had never been unkind.

“So, are you seeing someone at the moment?” My mom asked.

“Ah, well, there might be someone, but we need to talk about it first before I can tell you more.”

“Great. Well, if it’s getting serious, make sure to arrange dinner so that we can get to know him this time.” I could hear the smile in my mother’s voice.

“How did you know it’s a he?”

“Mother’s intuition.”

I snorted, and they both chuckled.

“Promise to call us again?”

“I promise,” I answered truthfully.

---

Elio

After a soft knock on the door between our rooms, Oliver stepped inside my room. I saw immediately that he had been crying, but he was also smiling. I opened my arms to him, and he walked right into me and held me close.

“How did it go?”

“Better than I thought.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

“I’m glad.” I took a deep breath and inhaled his scent of sun kissed skin. It reminded me of something.

“That time in the bathroom, when you asked me which cologne I was using? You really meant it. You were not teasing me.”

“Of course not. I like the way you smell, and wanted to… I don’t know what I wanted. Make small talk? Flirt?” Oliver sighed and buried his nose in my curls.

“You have a weird way of flirting,” I laughed.

“I know. Sorry.”

I angled my face to steal a kiss, and he leaned into me even further. We lost ourselves in the kiss, and when he cradled my cheek with one hand, the other circling my waist, I let out an involuntary low moan. He took a step back but kept his hands where they were.

“I really want this with you, but we should talk first. And I feel a little bad because I haven’t asked you about Marzia.”

I sighed. “You are right. Come sit with me?” I pointed to the bed.

He arched an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Well, I only have one chair in this room.” I chuckled and pulled him down so that we could sit next to each other.

“Okay, I talked to Chiara and Marzia. She is obviously very upset, and I’m glad that Chiara is with her to support her. Claudio has left her some really mean messages, even accusing her of having an affair with one of her classmates . Honestly, if I were in her position, I would end things with him.” I clenched my hands into fists, but Oliver gently took them into his and massaged the tension out of my fingers. It was equally distracting and satisfying, and I bit my lip to keep my focus.

“Anyway. As for our plan, they both agreed to go through with it. Which means that Pedro can talk to Claudio, make him feel really guilty.”

As if feeling my anger surge back, Oliver flattened my hands between his palms, lifted them to his mouth and kissed my fingertips.

“I’m sure he will. I’ve known him for quite a while now. Pedro is a person with a clear understanding of what is morally correct or not, and he will call a person out on their bad behavior. I wish more people had such a strong ethical compass.”

I nodded, thinking immediately about my father whom I admired for the exact same quality, among other things.

“So, what do we do now?”

Oliver looked tired, and I felt exhausted, too, so I made the decision for both of us. 

“We are going to take a nap. In your bed.” I winked at his shocked expression. “Clothes stay on.”

Chapter Text

Elio

I woke up disoriented and thirsty. It took me a moment to get my bearings. I was in Oliver’s bed, but alone. Judging by the light outside, it had to be close to dinner time, so I decided to have a quick shower and a change of clothes.

After I had rolled out of bed, I noticed that Oliver had left me a note with his number. I grinned and immediately typed it into my phone.

Where are you? Can’t stand the silence 🙁

The answer came while I was in the bathroom.

Having a cigarette in my favorite spot at the end of the orchard 😉 See you for dinner? …and maybe also later…??

My smile was so wide it almost hurt my cheeks.

Care to show me that place some time? I showed you mine… 😉 See you later & later!

I spent some extra time selecting my clothes, hoping Oliver would appreciate the effort. Deciding that skinny jeans and a black linen shirt might hopefully do the trick, I quickly slipped into my espadrilles and rushed downstairs. My parents were in conversation with Pedro, laughing over something, and when I looked around, I saw Oliver approaching the scene through the garden. The sun was low, shining around him as he was walking away from the sunset. He was wearing jeans as well, paired with a dark blue t-shirt that was sitting smug around his upper arms. I swallowed and tried to get my facial expression back under control before my parents noticed that I was literally drooling over him.

“Hey,” he winked at me, and brushed my hand with his fingers when he walked past me. I followed him to the dining table, knowing that there was a light blush on my cheeks.

“Where is Claudio?” I couldn’t help but ask.

Pedro sighed. “Sulking.”

“Young love in trouble?” My dad asked and poured everyone some wine.

“You can say that again,” Pedro nodded. “But hopefully nothing that can’t be fixed. I will try to get him for a bike ride to town after dinner. Maybe I can persuade him to have some ice cream and a talk.”

“You should absolutely do that,” my mom looked genuinely concerned. “Claudio and Marzia make such a beautiful couple. Please talk some sense into that boy!”

“I will, Annella, I promise,” Pedro smiled at her.

Dinner was relaxed, without any other guests present, and after finishing my meal, I leaned back in my chair, crossed my fingers over my stomach and sighed, content.

“Happy?” Oliver said and nudged my shoulder.

“Yeah,” I returned the gesture and he chuckled. When I turned my head, I noticed Pedro looking at us with a badly disguised smile. I didn’t care that he was seeing us like this. I was happy, and he must have seen it and approved.

My dad announced espresso, but Pedro declined as he wanted to talk to Claudio. Oliver and I stayed, and I loved the four of us sitting together, chatting, laughing. Having Oliver at the dinner table with my parents felt like a fourth, missed family member finally back home. I watched him gesticulating animatedly as he was recalling a story to my father, who was grinning at him broadly. My mother took one of my cigarettes and beckoned me to light it for her, changing my focus to her.

“He likes you,” she said in French. I clicked my tongue and tilted my head. “No, he does, and you know it.” She took a drag of her cigarette. “Good for you. You will make it work.”

Oliver looked into our direction, raising his eyebrows questioningly as he hadn’t understood what my mother had said.

I shook my head, mouthing “nothing”, and he narrowed his eyes on me. I grinned and licked my lips.

Before things could get out of hand with our ridiculous flirting, my parents announced they would go to watch some movie in the living room. We took that as our hint and got up for a walk through the garden.

“Ready to show me where you disappeared to earlier?” I touched his fingers with mine and was happy when he interlaced our hands.

“I didn’t disappear,” he laughed. “What did your mother say to you? You were blushing.”

I knew I was blushing again. “She just remarked on us. That you like me?”

“She’s not wrong.” Oliver smiled and squeezed my hand.

“I like you, too.” I briefly rested my head against his shoulder, walking on until we reached the end of the orchard.

“This is where I like to sit,” Oliver pointed to his place, which I recognized from having walked past it many times without having paid further attention to the secluded space. We sat down on the stone wall facing each other, but I wanted more contact, more touch.

“Kiss me?”

He leaned forward to hold my face in his hands. With his lips on mine, I pushed him back so that he could rest against the stone pillar behind him, and I could put my hands on his chest, stroking, massaging the muscles under the fabric of his t-shirt.

“I like your spot,” I whispered when we came up for air. The sun had fully set, and it was quickly growing darker around us. Cicadas and some late birds were performing their summer concert for us.

“Elio,” Oliver whispered.

“Yes?”

“Will you stay with me tonight?” His voice was soft, and despite the darkness, I could see the insecurity and worry in his eyes.

“Yes, Oliver.”

“And after tonight?” I felt his heart beating fast under my palm.

“I will stay with you after tonight as well. We will find a way.” I leaned forward and kissed him deeply, hoping he understood that I could be the strong one if he needed me to be, that I could lead when he couldn’t, while in other future situations to come, I might be the one who needed to rely on him. All of this, the present, the future, our possible future, I tried to pour into the kiss.

---

Oliver

When Elio took my hand and led me back to my room, I felt lightheaded and excited. I hadn’t expected to fall in love with someone so quickly again. I hadn’t expected it to be someone like Elio, strong, self-confident, talented, amazing Elio.

He closed the door behind us, made me sit on the bed, lit some candles and then came to stand between my legs, his hands on my shoulders.

With my eyes, I pleaded for another kiss, and he straddled my lap and kissed me with so much force, we toppled over and landed on the mattress. In between kisses, we removed each other’s clothes, then lay facing each other.

“I’m nervous,” Elio said.

“Me, too,” I said, took his hand and placed it over my heart so that he could feel the anxious flutter, just like earlier outside.

We continued our explorations with tender touches first, but soon urgent want overtook us, and in the end, joining our bodies was reaching the peak of perfection. 

No matter how many partners we had both had before, how experienced we might have been in general terms of sex, it all came to nothing as we took our time learning what we both enjoyed together. Elio wanted me to top him first, "but make no mistake, I want to return the pleasure later," he had husked into my ear, taking my breath away.

Throughout the night, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other, and made love between bouts of short naps, only to wake up again with the need to be close, closer, closest. 

I had never felt this way with anyone ever before, and panting and dizzy with desire for Elio, I asked him to call me by his name, and I by his. He looked puzzled, but then tried his name for me, and I his for him, and after that, I only remember the highest highs of pleasure I had ever experienced in my whole life.

“Hey, you back with me?” Elio was propped up on one elbow, looking down on me.

“Huh?” I must have fallen asleep. The candles were no longer burning, and some early rays of sun were finding their way into the room.

“You were completely out cold,” Elio smiled.

“…well…,” I made a vague gesture towards his naked body, and he snorted.

“Very eloquent,” he remarked with a smirk.

I cleared my throat and attempted my most serious look. “ Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate.”

Elio’s eyes shimmered with glee.

“Well, go on.” He poked my shin with his toe.

“I forgot about the middle part, but thy eternal summer shall not fade, nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,” I quoted.

Elio leaned in, his lips hovering over mine, his eyes flickering back and forth between my eyes and my mouth, whispering: “ So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, so long lives this, and this gives life to thee .” And then he finally kissed me again.

When we detangled our sweaty bodies yet another time, I looked at Elio laying upside down on the bed and chuckled.

“What?” He grinned.

“You are impossible.”

“And don’t you love it.”

I shook my head, mulling his words over in my head. “I do.” It was the moment I realized I had hopelessly, irrevocably and completely fallen in love with him. I had given him my name, my heart, my body, and would willingly give him anything he wanted.

---

Elio

I wished we could stay in bed and hide from the world forever, but we were both famished so while we took turns in the shower, the other tried to tidy up the room. I was officially out and didn’t mind everyone knowing about Oliver and me, but there are certain things you don’t want your housekeeper or parents to know about THAT aspect of being with someone.

Oliver walked by, stretching his arms, and winced when he gingerly sat down on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes.

It reminded me of what we had done that night. The way he had felt when he was inside of me, and then I in him. His taste on my tongue, the sound of his moans in my ears. Soft at first, holding back, until I had told him to let go, and had pushed his body to its limits, as he had done with mine.

I had to inhale a shaky breath before the memories alone woke up another wave of arousal.

“Sore?”

“You should know!”

I snorted. “Yeah, I won’t ride my bike today, that’s for sure.”

We chuckled, but then he took my hand and pulled me close. “But otherwise okay?”

I toyed with some stray streaks of his blond hair. “Yes, very much okay.” I kissed him gently. “And you?”

“Me okay.”

I noticed how much he craved the closeness, had in fact noticed through our whole night his need to embrace me, touch me, hold me. I was more than willing to give him that, anything he wanted, anything for him.

“Come on, you are hungry. And so am I,” I kissed his cheek and he sighed with closed eyes, but nodded. I loved this soft side of him. All those strong muscles, but such a gentle soul.

Downstairs, we greeted my parents who had just finished their breakfast. Oliver bashfully looked into his cup of coffee, and I decided to make things easier for him by sitting right next to him, touching him whenever I sensed him getting nervous. I needed to let him know that my parents were okay with us. He had told me that his parents were not angry with him as he had feared, but I realized that he was still careful about being fully out to everyone.

I poured him some apricot juice (and touched his arm with mine), offered him a croissant (and touched his hand), reached over for the newspaper my father had discarded (and leaned over so close I was basically sitting on his lap), chatted with my mom about the movie my parents had watched last night (and rested my naked foot on top of Oliver’s). Oliver looked a little baffled but also less anxious, so I took that as a win.

When I brushed my fingers over the back of his hand to indicate that he pass me the jam, I heard my father chuckle

“No one is taking him away from you, tesoro,” he remarked in Italian.

“Unless Chiara is around,” I returned the joke. Oliver looked between us, only understanding the name. I looked at him and then fully took his hand in mine before adding in English: “But I know now that she doesn’t stand a chance.”

There was a deep blush on Oliver’s cheeks.

“Oliver, I love my son, but he can be a bit of a handful,” my dad smiled at him warmly and Oliver swallowed and nodded wordlessly. I let him finish his breakfast in peace.

---

Oliver

“Now that you’ve finished teasing me,” I poked Elio’s ticklish side with my finger, “maybe we should discuss the problem of our two lovebirds.”

Elio groaned. “I wish I could give Claudio a piece of my mind.”

“I know, but that’s not exactly going to help. Pedro spent some time with him last night, and I have a feeling he could talk some sense into him. By the way, you have John to work on.”

His face instantly clouded over.

“Let’s rehearse. How do you want to approach him?” I offered.

“That’s the thing, I don’t know.” He scrunched his forehead and scratched his nose. I thought I’d text him and ask if he is free today? I mean, technically I stood him up the other day when he wanted to go swimming, so I could apologize and go from there?”

It sounded like a decent enough plan, so Elio quickly sent a text. John answered immediately:

You alone?

Elio raised a questioning eyebrow and I motioned for him to pretend he was and ask why it was of importance to him.

Just don’t like this Oliver-guy, as I told you before. I fear he’s not good for you, or anyone btw. Haven’t you noticed him shamelessly flirting with Chiara AND Marzia? Bet he would like to fuck them both.

We exchanged a shocked look. What was he attempting here?

Elio answered with some vague affirmation and asked to meet him at the villa later, coffee and a swim, maybe a walk through the orchard.

Anything as long as it involves you :-*

I scoffed, but Elio put a reassuring hand on my arm.

“This is the perfect setup. I walk him close to your spot, you get Claudio out there, and when everything goes according to plan, I can make him confess while you guys ‘accidentally’ walk by and cannot help but listen in on our conversation.”

I knew he had a point, but was worried that it wouldn’t work nonetheless.

Chapter Text

Oliver

“Claudio, you need to get out of your room,” Pedro rolled his eyes. “Which is exactly why Oliver and I will take you on a nice walk.”

“Don’t want to,” Claudio muttered and turned around on his bed, facing the wall. We shared an exasperated look.

“Doesn’t matter. Remember when you dragged me out of my flat after my breakup? You forced me into this pub because you said some live music and a beer or two would do me good. Well, the band was shit and we ended up at Burger King completely shitfaced, but you did the right thing with me. And now I’m doing the right thing with you.” I know I sounded pleading, but it seemed to have done the trick.

“Can we bring something to drink?”

“Sure, let’s take some wine and get drunk in style,” Pedro shrugged, humoring him as well.

It felt like dragging a moody teenager out of bed, and I vowed never to have children on my own. We finally succeeded and walked among the apricot and peach trees, passing a bottle of wine between us. I had to admit that being like this with my two friends was fun and that maybe we should do it again, under different circumstances. Pedro caught my eyes, and I stirred our group to the outer edges of the garden, where we could sit on the stone wall and talk some more. I hoped that Elio’s timing was on point, because I had no idea how long we could keep Claudio sober enough to let him “eavesdrop” on the conversation between Elio and John.

---

Elio

John had greeted me with kisses to my cheeks which he had never done before. I did not like the physical touch, but couldn’t let it on. Instead, I suggested we take some of Mafalda’s treats for a picnic and a stroll through the garden, maybe pick some fresh fruit on our way.

“I love that we finally get to spend some time together,” John said, picking up a peach and juggling it between his hands. “I missed my friend.” He smiled at me, and it might have been an honest statement.

“We haven’t seen much of each other since we graduated high school,” I said.

“I know, and I feel bad about it. I’ve always wanted to visit you in Paris but I wasn't sure you would like me around.”

“Why?” I furrowed my brow. Back then, if he had asked me, I would probably have said yes.

“Well, I feared you would have all kinds of admirers, and I hadn’t figured out my sexuality in high school, whereas you already knew what you wanted. It took me a while to get there.” He stopped and looked at me with an intense gaze that made me shiver. “That I wanted you, Elio.”

My stomach churned, but I couldn’t let it show. “Oh,” I said. He scoffed.

“That’s all you have to say?”

“Well, it did come as a surprise to me. Sorry,” I offered and resumed our walk to get us closer to Oliver’s spot.

“Are you sure that you really have feelings for me? Or are you just projecting on me what we all saw developing between Marzia and Claudio?”

John looked bewildered. “What do they have to do with us?”

“I, uhm, have to admit that when I saw how in love they were with each other, that I wanted that, too. That someone looked at me the way Claudio looked at Marzia.” I cringed at my words, but couldn’t think of anything better to offer.

“Oh, to hell with this rich American guy!” John exclaimed. I was finally getting somewhere.

“I thought your dislike was only concerning Oliver?”

John inhaled deeply. “No, Oliver is just one of those people who think they are better because of their education, but Claudio… I will tell you something that you might not know. His father and my father met in court once, right after our graduation. His dad mocked my father in front of everyone, tore his final report apart. The judges believed the client of Claudio’s dad, and my father lost a lot of important clients afterwards. I hate his whole family.”

“I’m sorry, John,” I offered. But once his anger was flaring up, he continued.

“And I wanted to get back at him, you know. And it was so easy. Of course Marzia didn’t kiss that guy I said I had seen her with. But Claudio is so gullible! I was even able to convince him that Marzia had some secret lover in Paris, and it was just her and her classmate in an old random Instagram photo! I swear, if he is so easy to manipulate and falter in his feelings, maybe I even did her a favor by making him end things with her. Because that’s not love. But, Elio, what I feel for you, is!”

I couldn’t react when he forcefully grabbed my head with both of his hands and pressed his lips on mine. I struggled to get free and pushed against his chest, when suddenly he was yanked away.

I gasped, my whole body shaking, but then strong arms wrapped around me, and my nose was buried in Oliver’s chest, shielding me, protecting me. When I had got my breathing back under control, I realized that Pedro was holding John by the collar of his shirt, glaring at him, while Claudio looked like crying and screaming all at once.

“Okay, that went well,” I mumbled so that only Oliver could hear me.

“You are impossible,” Oliver said and kissed my temple, the tension leaving his body as we both exhaled with a chuckle.

---

Oliver

I didn’t know who was more shaken up by John’s kiss, Elio or me. Pedro escorted him back to the villa while Claudio, whom we had finally told that Marzia was hiding at Chiara’s place, was already on his bike and racing down the country lanes to give her the apology she deserved.

“Don’t forget to buy her flowers!” Pedro had shouted after him. I hoped he would. Or at least fall down on his knees and beg her for forgiveness.

“Hey,” Elio tightened his arm around my waist. “I’m okay. Are you?” We were slowly making our way back to the villa, and I was glad for the physical contact.

“Uhm, yeah,” I offered, but Elio saw right through me. He placed his fingers under my chin and gently turned my face towards him.

“You are the only one I want,” he stated, raised on his feet and kissed me. I sighed and rested my forehead against his.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He grinned cheekily.

“Yes, okay.” I smiled back and finally felt it.

I wasn’t sure how to make it through the day, given I felt already exhausted enough to go back to bed. But I also wanted to hear about Claudio’s and Marzia’s reunion. In the end, Elio told me to lay down on the sofa with my head in his lap; he would wake me if he heard any news. I must have dozed off soon after, because the next thing I realized was someone softly shaking my shoulder.

“Oliver?” It was Elio’s voice.

“Hm?”

“Chiara and Marzia will come over for dinner. She is still a little upset, understandably, but at least she agreed to spend the evening in Claudio’s company.”

“I’m glad,” I said, my voice still rough from my nap. I stretched out on my back but kept my head on Elio’s thigh.

“You like being pampered,” Elio giggled and raked his fingers through my hair, making me hum.

“Should I keep that in mind for when we are back in bed?” He lowered his voice, and I blushed. “Oh, interesting,” he remarked on my reaction.

I opened one of my eyes and saw that he was biting his lip.

“Go on,” I prompted him.

“I was wondering what else you might like, but asking you felt silly.”

“Don’t be shy to ask me things. I might end up having the same questions about you.”

Now it was Elio’s turn to blush. “Maybe not here, in the middle of the living room.” 

I snorted at him being all modest and shy, when I had already figured out that he was none of these things. “Later, then.”

---

Elio

“So, will you forgive him?” I had taken Marzia aside for a moment to let her speak freely.

“I think so, yes. His accusations still hurt, and I told him he needs to work on his jealousy, because I need someone who trusts me the same way I trust him. But he understood and promised to get to the root of his insecurities.”

That was good news, and I hummed in approval.

“And how will your relationship proceed from here?” I asked.

“We have talked about it before, and he still wants to come and finish his studies in Paris. He might need to spend his last semester in London because there is this professor who specializes in his field, but London and Paris are not too far away, and I feel that if he is willing to put in the effort, then we have a chance to make it work.”

I nodded. “It sounds like a decent plan. When will he transfer?”

Marzia blushed. “As this has been long in the making, he had already applied before coming here. I know, I know, but he didn’t want to waste any time. Which means he will be in Paris starting next semester.”

Claudio’s boldness made me laugh; I had to give him credit for that move!

“And you and Oliver?” Marzia pursed her lips, her eyes sparkling.

“We still need to discuss logistics, but we want to try long distance for the moment with an eventual shared location,” I confessed. We hadn’t talked much about it yet, but had agreed that we would somehow find a way, and I felt positive about that. After all, my professors hoped to see me at an American university for an academic year, and Oliver’s research project left him room to work at any university abroad for a semester or two.

“Elio?” My mother called me.

“Yes, coming!”

Marzia and I walked back outside on the patio, taking our places next to the ones we loved. I took Oliver’s hand and smiled at him, thankful that he had chosen to accompany his friends on this trip to Italy.

Some hours later, back in his room, my room, our room, I initiated an interview about sexual preferences and fantasies that soon led us to the desired outcome: naked, entangled and aroused. But as we were both rather tired, I didn’t mind when Oliver spooned me from behind and we drifted off to sleep.

I accompanied him on his run early the next morning, but half-way through, persuaded him to take a detour by the lake where we removed all our clothes and jumped into the cold water. I would have made love to him then and there, but Oliver was worried someone might walk by and see us, so we put our clothes back on and resumed our run.

We shared the bathroom, I in the shower, Oliver shaving by the sink, and discussed possible scenarios for the upcoming months.

“When do you have to be back in New York,” I asked, rinsing the shampoo out of my hair

“Well, I’m free until the semester starts. And of course, during Christmas break.”

“Awesome, me too.” I was about to suggest he could stay with me, either here, or in Paris until the end of summer, when he spoke up again.

“Uhm, I don’t know how you guys celebrate, but it’s usually a typically American thing with my parents. Dinner with friends and family, and such.”

“You don’t celebrate Hanukkah?” I turned off the water and wrapped a towel around my hips before stepping out of the shower.

“No, not really. Just the dinner party. But I was wondering…” Oliver averted his eyes, looking down at the sink.

“Yes?” I prompted.

“I mean, if it’s not too much to ask, or you would rather spend Christmas break with your parents. But my parents said that they wanted to meet my new boyfriend, and I thought, maybe you would like to come visit me in New York…?”

I wrapped my arms around him from behind and kissed his neck and the spine between his shoulder blades.

“Your boyfriend, huh?” I took a peek over his shoulder at his reflection in the mirror and saw him blush and open his mouth.

“Sshh, your boyfriend wants to kiss you, but you still have shaving cream on your left cheek.”

We ended up being the last to join the breakfast table.

“Has anyone heard about John’s whereabouts?” Chiara, who had come over this morning, asked.

“No, but I suspect we won’t be seeing him for the rest of the summer,” Pedro said grimly. Claudio had the decency to look ashamed of himself, but Marzia, bless her soul, leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek which visibly brightened his mood.

Conversations continued, and I noticed Marzia was beckoning me with her eyes to tell her why Oliver and I had been late. I threw a glance over my shoulder to make sure that no one was listening, then leaned closer and whispered in French: “He said his parents want to meet me!”

Marzia pressed her hands over her mouth and giggled. “That serious?”

I grinned and nodded.

“I’m very happy for you,” she said.

We had missed parts of the chatter, but everyone was laughing about something. When I looked around, I saw Pedro strike a pose.

“Ah, Chiara, mia cara, sigh no more. Men were deceivers ever. One foot in sea, and one on shore, to one thing constant never. Then sigh not so, but let them go, and be you blithe and bonny, converting all your sounds of woe, into hey nonny, nonny. ”

My parents clapped at his Shakespeare recital and Chiara winked at Pedro flirtatiously.

“Did I miss something here?” I whispered to Oliver and pointed between the two.

He shrugged. “No idea. But… I mean…” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and I snorted.

“Remind me to read you some queer poetry later,” I said, crossed my ankles and touched his foot with mine under the table, then let my toes wander up his shin, just to see his cheeks grow pink again. “You’ll love it.”

“I have no doubt about that.” Then it was his turn to lower his voice and make me blush. “I love everything you do, everything about you. But keep doing that with your foot, and I can’t guarantee what I will do.”

“Hey, lovebirds!” Pedro interrupted us before things could get too heated. “You up for a day by the lake? Food, drinks, music?” He turned to Chiara and added: “Nice company?”

Oliver chuckled. “May I quote you this time? ‘Ah, the Italian countryside will do you good’, is what you said to me. ‘Excellent food, delicious wine, beautiful women’…,” he winked at Chiara who blushed under the attention of the two men. But then Oliver grabbed my hand and lifted it to his lips.

“And the most beautiful man.”

“C’est l’amore.” My mother blew kisses into the direction of every couple.

“And la dolce vita!” My father concluded with a laugh, and we made a toast to each other with our cups of coffee.

Chapter Text

“Relax, they are going to love you,” Oliver kissed my temple. I was still too nervous about meeting his parents to be reassured that easily. I had never been in a relationship like this, never met anyone’s parents for a Christmas dinner, had never been formally introduced in this way – but then, I had also never been so in love with anyone before. Relationships, sure, but the intensity I felt for Oliver was unprecedented.

I felt Oliver reach out for my hand and hold it into his big one, pressing it once. He must have felt my racing pulse under his fingers, because when I turned my head to look at him, he smiled at me fondly.

“I promise, everything is going to be alright. I told them so much about you, and they have witnessed over the last couple of months how happy you make me, no matter that we are doing this long-distance for the moment.”

“…about that…,” I scratched my neck. We still had to discuss the fact that I was moving to New York for one academic year, preferably going to live with him, but I didn’t want to assume things. Maybe Oliver was one of those persons who preferred separate living arrangements. His apartment wasn’t exactly spacious, but I guessed two people could live there, if they were willing to compromise on shelf and wardrobe space. And the fact that I would bring an electric piano. With headphones, because which respectable musician would like to annoy their neighbours?

Standing in front of his parents’ house felt unnervingly unreal. But then, somehow our whole relationship was kind of a miracle. From meeting under unusual circumstances in Italy, to falling in love, to entering a looong distance relationship that would soon not be so long-distance anymore…

When Oliver had left for New York at the end of the summer, I hadn’t expected it to hit me so hard. Correction: I hadn’t known what to expect at all, which was precisely WHY it had hit me so hard. But then there were constant texts and video chats, a stream of pictures to let me know little things about his life on the other side of the ocean, encouraging words when I was upset by a song I couldn’t seem to get right. I should have known that Oliver was that kind of man, but it was nonetheless a sweet surprise.

There was also the time when he got sick and was disappointed that he couldn’t make it to a conference he and Pedro had planned for so long to attend together, and it was my turn to cheer him up over text messages.

“I’ve got two stripes on my test, and it’s not the good kind.” Oliver had joked and sent me a photo of a COVID test kit.

“Your jokes have been better, man. Get well soon, baby!!”

“Yeah, sorry. I get cranky when I’m sick.” It was strangely cute – another thing I hadn’t expected.

“Aww, like the meme of the angry kitten?” I attached the picture I was talking about, imagining Oliver in bed, in the middle of warm, fluffy blankets and pillows.

“Haha ”

“Ooooh  Not enough to cheer you up?”

“Hmmm, maybe a little. Thanks, I appreciate it. Will get some rest + tea now. Talk to you soon ”

Which of course he did as soon as his voice was strong enough to talk for longer than five minutes because he felt that he had neglected me. Seriously, could I have found a better person on this planet?

I took one last steadying breath, and then Oliver rang the doorbell. We would discuss our future living situations once we were back at his place.

---

Seeing Elio nervous and not his confident self was strange, but also did funny things to my heart. Not that I wasn’t nervous as well, but not because I feared my parents wouldn’t like him (I knew they already did because they had remarked on how happy I was since he came into my life), but rather because it felt like a huge milestone in our relationship. Like we had advanced up to the next level on the scale of “serious relationship”. From “definitely serious” to – did I dare say it? – “this is it for me”. At least that was how I felt, but given the fact that Elio was moving to New York soon, I suspected it was at least as serious for him. I wasn’t sure about the living requirements of exchange students, but I hoped he would be able to live with me. If I put some of my things in storage, there would definitely be enough space for both of us. And I already loved to see him in my place: Making coffee in the kitchen, spread out on the sofa with a book and pencil, wrapped up in the blankets of my bed. It felt as if he had always belonged there, and I hoped he felt the same. I would ask him later, after today’s dinner had set in.

The door opened to the whirlwind of my niece Ruth, who only had time to hug my leg before darting back inside to chase my aunt Nora’s dog back into the living room, while my dad called out from the kitchen how the game was going, and my mom skidded by with two cups of hot chocolate, almost missing that it was us standing in the entrance.

“Oh my! Oliver! Darling! You are here already!”

“Hi, mom.” As composed as she was all year round, having all her friends and family over for this one festive dinner every year brought out a completely different person in her. I watched her place the two steaming cups on the side table in the hallway, and one second later she had wrapped first me and then Elio into a tight hug.

“It’s so good to finally meet you,” she held Elio by his shoulders, taking him in. I noticed him blushing adorably.

“It’s good to meet you too, ma’am,” he answered, obviously overwhelmed by the moment.

“No ma’am-ing me, dear boy. I’m Hannah . Now, come in. Oliver, I need you to take those hot chocolates to your cousin Laura.” She handed me the two mugs before turning into the direction of the kitchen, calling out for my dad.

“Honey, they are here! Leave the potatoes alone for a moment, they’ll be fine without you. But maybe bring the crackers for Laura.” She turned to Elio. “Pregnancy sickness, you know. Poor girl.” She shook her head in pity for my older cousin while Elio tried to make sense of the information. Before I could help him ease into the chaos that was meeting all of my family at once, my dad finally appeared, wearing an apron with a print of a muscular, tanned six-pack that my uncle Phil had once gifted him. It looked ridiculous, but he wore it almost religiously for every cooking session. Next to me, I saw Elio’s jaw drop.

“Oliver! And Elio. Nice to meet you. I’m the dad,” he joked and shook Elio’s hand. I realized I should have warned my boyfriend that I had one of THOSE dads: stern and serious on the outside, but full of bad dad-joke-humor on the inside once he felt comfortable enough. And apparently Elio had that effect on him, which made me weirdly proud.

“Good to meet you, sir,” Elio greeted him politely.

The oven timer in the kitchen gave a shrill sound, and my dad hurried off to his cooking.

I shut the front door with my right foot while balancing the hot chocolate and motioned for Elio to hang his coat wherever he found an empty space.

“Here, let me,” he took the mugs from me so that I could do the same.

“Sorry, my family is usually very put together, except for this one time of the year. It’s as if they turn into Christmas elves overnight and go full candy-cone-sugar-crazy.”

Elio snorted. “I think your parents are sweet.”

“Wait till you meet the rest,” I winked at him and led him into the living room where everyone interrupted what they were doing to greet us with hugs and handshakes while Elio’s face showed how he tried ways to catalogue all the new names and faces. Almost like remembering a composition before performing it for real.

“Oliver, my hot chocolate! You are a saint. Come here, please and give me a hug,” my pregnant cousin Laura called from the sofa, cushions propped behind her back, arms stretched out to beg me closer. She looked pale but smiled widely at us. “And I finally get to meet the boyfriend. You are cute.” She grinned and took one of the cups.

“What about the other one?” I asked.

“Also for me. I drink one hot and the other cold. Thanks. Elio, come sit with me. I need to practice my French with someone before my pregnancy hormones have successfully made my brain rot away.”

---

Coming from a huge family myself, I shouldn’t have felt quite that overwhelmed, but being finally able to meet this essential part of Oliver’s life was huge. Everyone seemed to be so nice, and I immediately liked Laura who had so much of Oliver’s wit and intelligence. I tried my best to remember all the other names and who was related to whom in which way, or simply a family friend since forever and thus counted as family as well, but the more the day proceeded, the more relaxed I felt. Oliver laughed a lot, and whenever he could, he gravitated back towards my side, taking my hand or kissing my cheek, asking me if I was alright or if I needed anything. I didn’t know how it was possible, but I fell in love with him even more.

And here was the thing: We hadn’t actually TOLD each other THOSE words before. To me, it felt inappropriate over the phone or through a screen. I wanted to take his hands, look him in the eyes and tell him how happy I was and that I lo-

“Elio, will it be terribly rude of me to ask you to play something for us?” Oliver’s mom interrupted my daydreams and nodded towards the upright piano that stood against the wall of the living room.

“I would love to! Who else plays?” I pointed to the room, trying to figure out who it could be.

“I’ve been taking lessons once a week since I retired. I felt that I needed a new hobby,” she winked at me.

“And what a wonderful hobby music is! What would you like me to play?” I brushed the palms of my hands over my thighs, feeling a little nervous about performing in this family setting. Oliver seemed to notice and raised his eyebrows in a silent question. I shook my head and smiled; no need to save me.

“You are the professional, you choose,” Oliver’s mom said, reminding me of very similar words Oliver had said to me when we had talked about music during his stay at my parents’ villa. I chose a medley of various Christmas related tunes, mixed in some parts of some of my own compositions I had been working on and rounded everything up with a mocking version of “Last Christmas” that had everyone laughing.

When I looked up, Oliver’s eyes were on me, his smile so bright it lit up the whole room, and it made my blush to see how proud he was of me displayed so openly on his face.

Soon after, we all sat down at the dinner table where conversations flowed easily. It wasn’t much different to family dinners as I knew them from home, which helped me relax further.

Much later, we were wrapped up in our scarves and coats, balancing containers of various kinds of food to the cab that would take us back (“Then you won’t need to cook while Elio is here and have more time to do fun things,” Oliver’s mom had said, and I knew she probably meant exploring the city, but I couldn’t help my mind wandering to very different kinds of fun things I would do to Oliver later at home).

“Did you have a good time?” Oliver nudged my knee with his, as we sat close to each other on the backseat.

“Very much. Your family is great. Thank you for inviting me.” I took his hand and held it tight.

“Thank you for coming with me.” He looked at me for a while. “And for coming here over Christmas break instead of spending time with your parents. It means a lot to me, and I know that-“

“Shh.” I silenced him and brushed my index finger over his lips. “I am here because I want to be here. Next year, we can celebrate Hanukkah with my parents, and the year after we celebrate Thanksgiving or whatever with everyone.” I shrugged despite the heaviness of what my proposal implied.

I heard Oliver draw in a shuddering breath. “Okay. Yes,” he nodded, then smiled his beautiful smile and kissed my hand.

---

We were both rather tired, and the ride back to my place was quiet. We put the food in the fridge, changed into lounge pants and stretched out on my bed. I had one arm wrapped around Elio’s shoulder, his head resting on my chest, a smile on my face. Elio’s words from earlier resonated within me. Next year, the year after…

“You are quiet,” Elio said softly.

“Hm, yeah, but the good kind.” I sighed and held him closer. “Today just was…,” I trailed off, unable to find the right words to convey the depth of my feelings.

Elio muffled a chuckle against my body. His breath tickled my side, and I squirmed, which caused him to raise his head.

“Sooo, about what I said earlier,” he pursed his lips, waiting for me to object in case I didn’t want to talk about anything that had been said earlier. But I was curious where he was headed.

“Next year, I’m moving to New York,” he was drawing nervous circles over my heart, and I stilled his idle fingers with mine.

“I know. And just thinking about having you this close makes me very happy.” I gave him what I hoped was my most sincere smile, encouraging him to continue.

“Right, uhm, obviously I’m very happy, too. Which is why I was wondering, uhm…how will we do this?”

“I don’t know? I guess we will just have to see about your workload and then build time for us around our schedules.” I shrugged. “Like in a normal short-distance relationship,” I joked.

“…a short-distance relationship…,” Elio furrowed his brow.

“As in opposed to our long-distance relationship now,” I clarified, but somehow it felt as if I had missed the point.

“Exactly how short?” Elio tilted his head to the side.

“How short…?” My brain had clearly lost Elio’s train of thought. He rolled his eyes and slapped my chest in a playful gesture.

“Oliver! What I want to know is how close will you want me around? Like, on weekends, or every other night, or once a week…”

“Uhm, I was actually hoping you could stay with me? I mean, only if you want to, of course. My flat is not big, but I think we could make it work. And if that’s okay with your study program. I know that some universities take great pride in offering on-campus living for their foreign exchange students.” I know I was blushing in fear of having been presumptuous.

Elio snorted and grinned down on me. “I’d rather live with you in a shoebox than in a campus dorm. I just didn’t know if that was okay with you. And we both don’t know yet how our careers will proceed after my year is up.”

I sat up and brought my face eye to eye with his. “It would mean a lot to me if you moved in with me. And about the rest, we will just have to see what will happen to my applications on your side of the ocean. Pedro has enough academic contacts and has already agreed to help me out with that.” I brushed our noses together and stole a quick kiss from his lips.

Elio gave me a lopsided grin. “God, I love you.”

—

Whoops, and there was the proverbial being-caught-in-the-moment moment. I hadn’t planned it that way, but the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

I saw Oliver’s eyes widen first, then his lips spread in a beaming smile.

“I love you, too.”

Tiredness put aside, I was able to show him how much at least once after that…

“I was thinking an additional desk here. Maybe put them face to face? Or do you think that’s awkward?” Oliver was designing an imaginary shared space, waving his hand in the air in front of him. We were naked and my brain was still slightly out of it, but I could see what he had envisioned.

“Distracting, maybe,” I placed soft kisses against his neck, giggling at him humming in delight. “But I come with instruments, you know.”

“I’ll put some of my stuff into storage.”

I looked around. “What stuff? Surely not any books or records?” I raised my right eyebrow in alarm.

“No, but things like the additional coffee table that I don’t need anyway. Gives me the perfect time to declutter the place. Watch lots of Marie Condo videos.”

“Oliver! No one does that anymore!” I couldn’t help laughing at the thought of him organizing his socks and underwear according to some internet advice. He smirked at me and bit my naked shoulder. Our ensuing wrestling match was short lived because with Oliver rolling on top of me, I willingly gave up and simply wrapped my arms around him.

“Let’s sleep and deal with the logistics tomorrow,” he kissed my cheek, my lips. Nothing to complain about on my side.