Work Text:
"That's it, he doesn't need me anymore."
Sanremo was over, the album was out, Eurovision was over and Lucio's touring band was good without him. Tommaso had walked away, he had told Lucio he needed to focus on his own projects, he coudn't complain, he shouldn't complain, it shouldn't hurt to see Francis' insta, Lucio smiling, having fun, being happy while Tommaso felt like absolute shit.
He had felt like this since the day they said goodbye, Lucio looked hurt, sad, it had felt like both wanted to slow down the moment in wich they had to take different trains as much as posible. The moment finally came, Lucio took his guitar, and his bag, nodded a goodbye and walked off. Not even a final hug.
Was that it? Was that all their friendship deserved? He thought back to all the time they spent together last year, the sleepless nights writing songs, Lucio falling asleep during late night recordings, that one time during Sanremo when Lucio had cryed in his arms thanking him for always being there for him... did he not care to have him there anymore? Why coudn't he fight for them? Sure, there wasn't a them, or was there? There was a them in terms of friendship but...
Tommaso had to admit it, even if only to himself, he didn't want to call his relationship with Lucio "friendship". But he coudn't expect anything else either, Lucio had told him after his last heartbreak that he didn't want to get involved in romantic relationships for a long time, just music, and Tommaso was good for that, for making music and videos and going to festivals with.
But, maybe, he wasn't good enough to call in the middle of the night from a far away city just 'cause Lucio missed his voice, or to put a picture of him as his phone wallpaper or take back to his hotel room and...
He needed to get his mind out of the gutter, out of Lucio. This sad, romantic state was usually good for writing, but he didn't want to write about Lucio, he didn't dare to. What if Lucio realized the song was about him? What if he didn't like it? Or, worst, what if he was unable to put into words how beautifull Lucio looked smoking at night? Or how peacefull he felt sleeping in the same hotel room, only a couple of meters separating his bed from Lucio's, or that one time he had being able to sleep in Lucio's arms while traveling, their bodies had fallen into position almost by accident, Lucio's head resting first on Tommaso's shoulder, then his chest. It was a feeling too pure to be ruined by trying to put it into words, feelings like that should be inefable, but then again, wasn't thinking about it putting it into words in some way?
Tommaso often imagined himself talking about his feelings to someone. He could only imagine it, there was no point on risking everything by talking. So he imagined a friend listening to him rant about Lucio for hours, sometimes, that friend told him to just confess, and so, he imagined telling Lucio himself, he never knew how to imagine his reaction, sometimes he was happy, confessing he also had feelings for Tommaso, sometimes he looked disgusted and hurt asking Tommaso to never talk to him again.
"Maybe just one text, just a reply to one of his stories, congratulate him."
"And then what?" Said the voice in his head. "You'll feel even worse if he doesn't answer."
"But if he does..."
"What?"
"I'll be able to sleep with a smile."
Tommaso's phone rang, a message, his heart skiped a bit, he assured himself it woudn't be Lucio, it coudn't be, he must be celebrating or sleeping not sending messages to a random friend. He took his phone from the bedside table and on the screen, he read Lucio's name, the message?
Lucio: "Something happened tonight... I have a great idea for a video"
Tommaso stared at the screen for a bit, not knowing what to answer, wondering what had happened but afraid of asking, and then, another message from Lucio.
Lucio: "How are you? How's home?"
His first tought was that he wasn't home, home was with Lucio, here, in Milan or Basil.
He started writing and sending a message without thinking much, almost mechanicaly:
Tommaso: "It's nice being back, but I really miss you."
By the time Tommaso realized what he had said it was too late, Lucio was writing a response:
Lucio: "I miss you too!!! It's weird not having you around after everything that happened"
The wording of that sentence made him feel like Lucio also coudn't put their relationship or how it had grown in the last months into words, the notification sound bringing him back to the present.
Lucio: "Are you in bed?"
What?! Why was he asking that? Tommaso didn't have time to examine his intentions, this could be the chance of a lifetime.
Tommaso: "Yeah, you?"
And then, Lucio sent a picture of himself, he was laying in bed, the picture only showed his face being buried by a pillow, but Tommaso noticed he was, sadly, wearing a shirt. His face was still white here and there and his hair was a mess. He was smiling, tired, but happy, acomplished. A message at the bottom read "goodnight".
Tommaso felt at home again, he sent a similar "goodnight" picture, making a silly face, he imagined Lucio laughing before going to sleep.
Maybe they weren't meant for more, and maybe sometimes that meant Tommaso was going to get hurt, if Lucio found someone else, as a writing partner or a life partner... but maybe, he didn't have to think about that right now, because now, he was the last person Lucio thought of before going to bed, and that alone, was enough for the night.