Tav pulled a face but—reluctantly—let go. Luca insisted on bringing the box and bag, greeting Tav’s stepfather and mam, too formally as always, but Becky practically dived on the homemade shortbread in the box, and then—finally—Tav was allowed to drag Luca down into the beanbag.
This was their perch, the blue beanbag. It was enormous, easily the size of an armchair. See, this was how Christmas worked now—Luca’s family made all the treats, and Tav’s family made all the dinner, and at five o’clock the Jensens would arrive and bring all the wine and desserts and cakes and stuff. And there’d be an enormous Christmas dinner.
Only having the whole Jensen family and all of his own family in this house was way overcrowded, so Tav had claimed the beanbag as his and Luca’s for Christmas Day. Right in the corner, good view of the telly, plenty of room for the both of them.
Sort of. Actually, it would be indecent if they weren’t going out. Two people had to basically spoon to fit, and it always meant Tav ended up sprawling in the beanbag, Luca sitting between his legs. Tav loved this position. Luca would end up relaxed and drowsing against his chest—especially after dinner—and Tav could kind of…hug him with his legs and knees, and use his hands to play with that thick hair.
And, inevitably, get complained at halfway through the film.
“You’re petting,” Luca whined. Petulantly. Heh.
“Yup,” Tav said cheerfully, and kissed the side of his head. “Deal with it.”
Luca snorted, but when Tav touched his cheek, he could feel a smile creasing the skin, and Luca was so relaxed against him he might as well have been boneless. He was wearing one of his brother’s hand-me-down hoodies, and the fabric was loose and warm around his frame. Tav scrunched it up in his fists to feel the empty space, then squeezed to find everything else.
“You’re still petting.”
“This is hugging.”
“It’s petting.”
“Shut up and enjoy yourself.”
“I’m being molested!”
Tav snorted and fluffed up those curls just a bit more. Across the room, his mother shot him a smirk and shook her head. “Stop winding him up, Tav.”
“He likes it.”
“I do not.”
“Liar,” Tav said loftily.
“You’re an arse. I hate you.”
“Don’t lie.”
“Boys,” Mam chided. Tav grinned and subsided—verbally; he kept petting, because fuck Luca’s complaints. This never stopped feeling amazing, the way he could do this right in front of his family. They’d been so scared to come out—especially Luca—and nobody had even cared. It had once been a stupid dream, to have their beanbag in the corner on Christmas Day. Only now it was true.
He didn’t have to hide. In this tiny corner of Christmas, everything was fucking perfect.
* * * *
Luca started when something brushed his cheek, and blinked up at Mamma Laura in surprise. Faintly, he realised he must have slept, and curled his fingers into the duvet she settled over him and Tav.
“You may as well sleep down here if you’re comfortable, dear,” she murmured, and passed a hand lightly over his hair. Her eyes were nearly gold in the dim light from the Christmas tree. “Goodnight.”
“Night, Mamma Laura,” he mumbled, and flushed when the old nickname slipped out. She just smiled and drifted away, and Luca turned into the heat of Tav’s chest more fully. They were still sprawled out in the beanbag. Tav was still wearing the mistletoe hat Tomas had made for him when Luca’s folks had come over for dinner.
Luca stared in tired fascination at the colour of Tav’s hair. With the Christmas tree the only source of light, that light brown had become stuck between brown and blond, shimmering between each one with every flicker of the fairy lights. He looked alien. Angelic, even—although the word could only be applied when Tav was asleep.
Luca curled an arm around Tav’s ribs and settled into his shoulder. Tav mumbled and shifted, the bag crinkling under them, and Luca pulled the duvet up a little higher. It’d be too hot later, and inevitably they’d be woken up too early by Tav’s younger sisters, or by his stepdad going for his morning jog. And God forbid they still woke up in this bundle, because Tav had a thing about bedhead and hoodies, and Luca was too full of food to even think about it, for once, but…
But right now—right this second, in the warmth and the dark, with the soft silence of the house settling around them—Luca wouldn’t have moved for the world.
Chapter 13: “You’ve not come to watch since the accident.”
“Tav! Get the door, love!”
“Becky-get-the-door!”
“Mam said you get it!”
“Urgh,” Tav muttered, heaving himself off the sofa and away from the TV. Stupid sisters. They were useless. Maybe he could swap Becky for Angelo? At least Angelo’s tantrums were entertaining. “What do—hello.”
“Hello,” Luca said, and grinned. “Get in, loser, we’re going swimming.”
“Did you seriously just quote shitty chick flick at me?”
“You recognised it, so you have no right to complain. Baci,” Luca added, imperiously presenting one cheek. Tav laughed and kissed it. It was snowing again—had been since Boxing Day—and Luca’s skin was icy where it was showing between his scarf and his hat.
“C’mon, lemme get my kit. Wasn’t expecting to see you today.”
“Yeah, well,” Luca said as he stamped off his boots on the mat. “Mam’s been at the wine.”
“So?” Tav asked blankly.
“So, when I left, she was sitting in Dad’s lap and trying to eat his tonsils. It was disgusting.”
“Oh right,” Tav said, then slid both hands around the strip of neck visible above the scarf and pushed his lips between Luca’s to part them. He took control hard and fast, the kiss deep and bruising, and felt rather than heard Luca’s gasp as Tav backed them into the now-closed front door.
He only broke it when air became a need instead of a nice want, and tugged Luca’s bottom lip between his teeth before smirking and cracking his eyes open to peer at that flushed face.
“Like that?”
“Umm,” Luca said, and blinked blown dark eyes open. “Bit like that, yeah.”
“And was that disgusting?”
Luca rolled his eyes and shoved Tav in the chest. “Piss off and get your trunks. Idiot.”
“Mm,” Tav said, sliding his hands down the front of Luca’s jacket, around his hips, and neatly into the back pockets of his jeans. “I only got up an hour ago. Haven’t showered or anything.”
“Is that meant to be alluring? Unwashed boyfriend? Mm, yummy, I can hardly wait.”
“I’m inviting you into the shower with me, you twat.”
“Twat? Even more alluring. I’m going all fluttery. Quick, catch me before I swoon.” All delivered in a completely flat tone. Tav was dating a total troll.
“Come and shower with me, relieve some…tension, maybe, and then we can go swimming without risking embarrassing ourselves.”
“Yourself, maybe. I had a wank already,” Luca said crudely, but there was a smirk playing at the edges of his mouth, and then he shed his jacket with a thump onto the floor and started unwinding his scarf with delicate motions to avoid dislodging Tav from his clingy position. “Go get the hot water started then, Romeo. And proper towels, not one of those shitty tiny hand-towel things you like.”
“What if I like them?”
“You’ll do as you’re damn well told.”
Tav grinned, squeezed his arse, and did as he was damn well told.
* * * *
It was nearly one o’clock before they got to the swimming pool—Heeley, not Pond’s Forge—but Luca didn’t mind. Out of the house was out of the house, and winter was great for getting to hold hands with Tav and slide down the middle of abandoned roads, laughing and crashing into banks and snowdrifts every hundred metres. In the dead of winter, when the ice was treacherous and the schools shut down for Christmas
, they weren’t advertising anything about themselves other than ‘I don’t want to fall over and break my arse-bones.’ If arses had bones.
Luca loved Christmas. Loved it—the cold, the holding hands, the snow, the way Tav’s face lit up when he got presents he liked, the way Tav looked when he was flushed, Tav in general…
“Stop staring.”
“Nope.”
Tav laughed as they skidded to a halt in the empty car park. He caught Luca around the waist and the kiss was sharp. “You’re such a sap.”
“Yup,” Luca admitted cheerfully, and cupped Tav’s face in his gloves to rub their noses together. “See? Totally fucking pathetic.”
“Yeah, but you’re my pathetic piece of shit,” Tav smirked, and hooked his arm over Luca’s shoulders to guide him into the humid warmth of the swimming pool. “Why the sudden urge to swim anyway? Or you just being a water baby again?”
“Honestly?”
“Well, yeah…”
“You’ve not come to watch since the accident.”
Tav went quiet, and the arm across Luca’s shoulders stiffened.
“So I want to get you in the water with me,” Luca said, and squeezed Tav’s hand where it hung free. “I don’t want you being afraid to come and watch me when the summer competitions roll around.”
“Luc…”
“It was just an accident,” Luca said as they entered the changing rooms. “And the longer you take to come back to the pool, the harder it’ll be. So here we are. We’re gonna go mess around for a bit, and you’ll remember why swimming’s amazing.”
“I never thought it was amazing.”
“Fine, why I’m amazing when swimming is involved.”
Tav snorted, but caught Luca’s wrist as he started to strip out of his layers. “Thanks,” Tav said quietly, not looking Luca in the face, and Luca itched with the desire to kiss him again. Seriously, what the hell, Tav? Turning all sweet and sexy on him today. It was just fucking rude.
“Just hurry up,” Luca said to cover it, and gave in to the urge to kiss Tav’s ear before ducking away and stripping off the rest of his layers. Under the itching to touch Tav, another itch was starting up. He could smell chlorine, and the slick feel of the tiles under his toes was enticing. The water was right out there, and if Tav would just hurry the fuck up, Luca could be in that water, right where he belonged.
The itch was so strong that Luca left Tav behind, ducking through the shower fast as possible before heading out into the echoing abyss of blue that was the pool area. There were mums with toddlers in the shallow end, and an old guy doing some seriously fast widths at the other, and Luca went for a cheery middle, sliding into the warmth with a feeling of intense, religious-experience-level relief. If there was a religion that dictated swimming every Sunday instead of church, Luca would sign up on the spot.
He’d done six widths before Tav appeared, those large feet like pale fish on the tiles, and Luca surged out of the water to grab his ankle and breathlessly ask the question that had bugged him on the widths.
“Is it Hindus who have that annual wash in the Ganges thing?”
“You what?” Tav asked, squinting at him. “Uh, maybe?”
“I reckon it is.”
“So?”
“So I should become a Hindu,” Luca said, and Tav snorted, sliding down to sit on the edge.
“The Ganges is probably filthy. And aren’t Hindus like Indian? I don’t think they allow queers in India.”
“What they gonna do, un-gay me?”
“I dunno, stone you? That’s what people in the Middle East do, right?”
“Urgh, maybe. Maybe I should found my own religion. Waterism.”
Tav snorted, and slid into the water proper. Luca crowded him against the pool wall, grinning.
“You,” Tav said seriously, “aren’t a human being. You’re a fish.”
“What’s that make you? Pervert. Macking on the mackerel.”
“Ew, Luca!”
“You said it,” Luca pointed out, and drifted away, lightly treading water. “I’m a merman.”
“What, your legs disappear when you get in?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Long as your arse doesn’t.”
“Perv,” Luca said, sounding out the word long and deliberately.
“Oi! Luca! Tav!”
That was all the warning they had before a body hit the water between them, and then Aaron’s soaked fair hair bobbed up again, topping a wide grin. “Alright, knobheads?” he asked cheerily as a second body crashed in beside him, and they were joined by one of Aaron’s sisters. Sophie or Sarah or something. Luca sniggered as Tav childishly splashed them both in the face.
“Jensen, control your fuck-buddy.”
“You wish,” Luca said. Sally or whatever her name was giggled and went a bit pink. “Er,” Luca said, and Tav sniggered. “Right. So. Practising or pissing about?”
“Pissing about,” Aaron said. “Eldest sister’s come over with her new baby. It’s disgusting. It shat down my dad’s arm and everyone thought it was cute.”
“I’m out of here,” Tav said, ducking under the water—so Luca attacked him, and Aaron and Sandra joined in, and soon enough the pissing about was a swimmers versus shit-for-brains-boyfriend bombardment.
“Twat at three o’clock,” Aaron murmured halfway through, and Luca looked up from trying to sink Tav under his own body weight.
Across the pool, he saw Jack Collins sitting on the edge, adjusting his goggles and clearly about to begin a workout. Solo. He looked weirdly lonely. It was blindingly obvious he’d come on his own, and Luca frowned. Kid had joined the school in September, and he still didn’t seem to actually hang out with anyone.
“What the fuck does he want?”
Tav’s voice was low and sinister, and Luca squeezed his arm under the water.
“Down, boy,” Luca murmured, narrowing his eyes as Jack slipped into the pool and disappeared. There was something…off, something missing, but Luca shook it off, the memory of Mamma crying at the sight of the front door too fresh in his mind. Instead, he turned and threw his arms around Aaron’s shoulders as he surfaced. “Aaron! For the new year, I’m going to turn you!”
Serena—or Steph—started giggling again.
“Eeeew, get the gay off!” Aaron whined—then Tav attacked them both, and Luca forgot all about Jack Collins.
For now.
* * * *
“You’re not going to turn Aaron.”
Luca rolled his head back on Tav’s shoulder. They were on Luca’s bed watching the TV on his chest of drawers, and Luca had adopted Tav’s favourite position the minute they’d settled: sprawled between Tav’s knees and using his chest as a pillow.
“What?”
“The play. You and Aaron. You’re not going to turn him.”
“Uh, duh. His girlfriend news to you?”
Tav snorted. “You can’t turn someone with one kiss.”
“You get too much water in your brain?”
“It’s just one kiss, right?”
“One proper one, yeah. You’re still thinking about that?”
Tav scrunched up his face. “It’s just…Aaron’s sister was flirting with you at the pool today.”
Luca groaned. The sound reverberated against Tav’s chest. “Awkward much? She’s, like, thirteen, that was weird.”
“Yeah but…that didn’t bother me. Whereas you kissing Aaron…”
“They’re the same level of nothingness.”
“Yeah, but. You know. That rehearsal…you really planted one on him!”
“Well, yeah, that’s what I’m meant to do. It’s a play about kissing, Tav. I’m not meant to kiss him like he’s my nonna.”
Tav shrugged and dragged his fingers through those thick curls again. They were still damp from the pool, and smelled like chlorine. “Yeah. S’pose.”
“What’s up?”
“I dunno. It felt weird watching you do that with someone else.”
“Do what?”
“Your…attack-kiss thing. Your grab-and-snog.”
“Grab-and-snog? What am I, a cash-and-carry?”
Tav squeezed.
“Tav? If it’s upsetting you that much, I can always drop out. I told you. Just tell me, and I’ll text Aaron and say I’m out. They’re not putting it on ‘til Easter anyway, he can find someone else.”
Tav winced. “What? No…”
“It’s just a small part.”
“No, I’m being stupid,” Tav admitted. “I just, you know…I know it’s not like I’ve exactly got a reason to be jealous or anything, it’s just kind of weird to see you doing it.”
“Then don’t watch?”
“Oh yeah, then my imagination’ll go wild,” Tav said snidely.
“It should, Aaron’s a good kisser.”
Tav’s stomach twinged. “Not helping, Luca.”
“He is.”
“Not helping.”
“Telling you, if you dump me, I’m going to work on converting Aaron. His girlfriend is lucky.”
Tav found a slip of skin between Luca’s thin T-shirt and his jeans, and pinched.
“Hey!”
“Stop talking about how great it is to kiss another boy!”
“It’s not that great,” Luca said, and levered himself out of Tav’s grip to swivel around on the duvet and sit cross-legged. “He’s meant to be all surprised when I plant one on him, so there’s no hands involved. It’s kind of one-sided.”
“Good,” Tav said.
“Still pretty―”
“Stop it,” Tav warned, pushing Luca in the chest with one finger. “He doesn’t even get off on it, he said so. And neither do you.”
Luca grinned, wide and wicked. “How d’you know?”
“Because I know,” Tav said decidedly, all his previous hesitations gone. “It’s about as risky as letting you go around kissing girls. You’re sexually dead for other people.”
The Italian Word for Kisses Page 12