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willianghostwriter · 10 months

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Elio's Awakening (Call Me By Your Name fanfic)

I wrote this one last year in a way to celabrate the 5th anniversary of Call Me By Your Name movie. (Here's the original in Portuguese)

Number of words: 12.813

Main caracter: Elio Pearlman

Hope you enjoy it!

Would I get over it? Would I be able to move on?

After that call, I was feeling everything at the same time, as a six-week movie was rolling in my head. I wasn’t sad, but I wasn’t happy either, although I was feeling alive, my head was full, and I was feeling a little stunned.

My parents were setting up the table for dinner and I didn’t want to say anything, I couldn’t.

I was flipping a coin that was at the table, betting: If he still loves me... heads... yes... tails... no... It flipped heads... yeah... What difference would it make. He was not there anymore. I didn’t know when or if I would see him again.

I sat in the front of the fireplace to heat up from the melancholic cold I was feeling. I just could think of him. Elio, Elio, Elio... Oliver, Oliver, Oliver.

My mom called me to the table. I woke up from the trance I was in.

— How is Oliver, mon amour? — My mom asked politely.

— He’s fine! Did you know that he’s getting married next spring? — I couldn’t hide the bitterness in my voice.

— Yes. And he sounded very happy with that. — My father said harshly, as he was putting an end to the conversation.

We were still serving ourselves.

My mother gave a glimpse at my father trying to say: “Don’t be so hard on him”.

He looked back at me softly.

— Are you wistful to go back to school? — My mother asked, being trite.

— Whatever. NYU it’s what matters to me now.

— We were very excited about your letter. — My father said, satisfied, stretching his hand trying to reach my hand to stroke. He looked at me with pride.

Winter’s holiday otherwise from summer’s, went through slowly, as I could feel each day passing, each hour. Always thinking of him, in his witty eyes, even though youthful, his impeccable blonde hair combed at the right side, his face lines beautifully draw, fine and classic, in the way he would use his shirt leaving two or three buttons free, so one could see his thin, but fit chest, to complete the whole movie star look that would glimpse the attention of anyone that could be on the same room with him. Everyone just waiting for his “later”, when he would be leaving.

I’ve spent most of the time playing and transcribing music, doing the only thing that could not make me think of Oliver. At every note that I would play in my piano; I would go deeper in my dreams.

I was always trying to think about NYU and how amazing it would be to share my experiences with other colleagues that perhaps may would be better than me, but in a way that I could get better at my compositions.

I was feeling apathetic when school returned. I wanted all of this to end soon, so I could get out of there fast. It seemed to me that every corner of that city, where I would look at or pass through, would remind me of him.

Although, my friends were cool. It is funny how each one of them could bring something different to the group: Francesco was funny, he could seem stupid sometimes, but he could be the best at writing as any other from our class; Paolo was the most charismatic from all of was, always knowing what to say and was the best at sports; Luisa had an unique sense of style, but still dressing with the most refine fashion, and even if she looked cold, she was the one that always knew something was wrong with anyone; Luigi and I were the closest, we were always together at everything we were doing. He didn’t have a very strong personality, always trying to reach me at piano, listening what I was recommending, reading what I was reading, but he was a great friend with a heart of gold.

None of them could even imagine what I lived in the last summer, because we didn’t pass it together and after we came back from the holidays, I didn’t talk much about it.

They didn’t care much at the beginning, but they were suspicious. Occasionally they would ask me about it, but I’d always dodge it, trying to change the conversation.

They started to look concerned and curious with what happened then.

At the winter we ended up only talking by phone, but they couldn’t get much more out of me. When they would ask me how the summer went, I would answer:

— It was good. — Trying to be short with the answers.

— The guest of the summer? Hum, as usual. — Hiding the true words, I would use to describe Oliver.

— If I hooked up with anyone? — Yes, with person that I loved the most in my life. — No, I just spent time with Marzia, Chiara, Cousins and some friends that came to visit us.

I didn’t know if they would understand everything that happened with me that summer. The desire, the shame, the doubt, the discovery...

That was a very special summer, a summer that I felt things I’ve never felt before. Maybe I still didn’t have the right words to describe it. Maybe I still wasn’t brave enough to share with everyone what happened in that summer. My dad and my mom knew what they saw with their own eyes, but I just could share a fraction of what I felt, with my father. I still couldn’t speak about all I’ve felt and I'm still feeling.

The second week of school was coming in and I was more observing and listening than talking and I was always being dragged around the school by my friends.

I was feeling the cunning looks by the eyes of Luisa that she was ready to tear me down and make me say everything that was going on inside my head. I was always humble with the words, but still always had something to say when the time was right.

Luisa never had to question me about what I was feeling because I’d always knew the right moment to tell her anything. But in that moment, all I wanted was to be alone, isolated, wondering, remembering of the moments that I was with Oliver, just simply not confess that I was suffering, that my head was going round and round, and it would always land at the same place.

— Are you going to spill it out or I’m going to have to start interrogating you? — Luisa caught me alone after school while I was going down to the direction of the nearest gelateria.

— I don’t know what are you talking about? — I tried to get myself together, pretending that I wasn’t caught with my guard down by someone that could read emotions through Praxiteles sculptors.

— You’ve been quiet, apathetic since last summer. — She looked at me condescending. Obviously, she couldn’t know what happened to me last summer, but she knew that I was not right.

— Your impression. — I smirked at her trying to pass the impression that I was okay.

— Luigi won’t say anything, but it’s apparently that he misses you. Don’t you? — That hurt me, but Luigi was the least person I needed now. So, I stood quiet and kept walking.

— Why don’t you want to tell? — She asked me as if she knew everything.

— I have nothing to tell. — What was true, but still was the greatest lie I ever told Luisa.

— Something happened in that summer, Elio. I will still find out what it was, you like it or not. — So, there she goes with her hands in her overcoat pocket, with a light speed walk and her cold air, but looking implacably on fashion.

On that week it seemed that my friends were getting tired of me, of my apathy, of my torturous silence. They didn’t say anything, just simply pulled away. Looking at me suspiciously and annoyed. Maybe hoping that way I would get closer to them again, to tell everything what was going on in my head and return to be myself again.

I didn’t care. Nothing else could beat me. I just thought: “Soon, this is over. We are not going to see each other again and everything would be different.”

On Friday, a new boy got in our French class. I glimpsed him, but nothing came to my attention.

“Con il respiro di um drago” the teacher sent the boy to seat by my side.

He came walking with an impeccable posture. He had a messy hair, but in a way that looked cool, wearing light jeans, a thin black sweater with a plaid green overcoat thrown over his shoulder and carrying his school bag on his hands.

— Piacere di conoscerti, mi chiamo Viktor. — He stretched out his hand for a shake.

— Le plaisir est pour moi. — I said to him, rolling my eyes and turning my face the other way.

When I looked back, Viktor was smiling and with an interested look in his eyes.

— Something wrong? — I asked him defensively.

— Rien. — He answered it back with a smirk, with a mysterious and satisfied look, hanging his overcoat in the backrest and setting his supplies on the table.

Something in that look, intrigued me.

When I was going home that day, Luigi reached me.

— Do you already have a partner for the French essay? — He asked casually, as if we weren’t talking for the last two weeks.

—Yes. — I didn’t mean to sound so arid, but I wanted to end that conversation soon as possible.

— Who? — He asked immediately. Blushing at the same time.

— Viktor, the new boy. — I answer it without looking at him.

— Hum.... He looks cool.

— I don’t know... there’s something about him...

— You don’t like him?

— I do... it’s just that... ã... — I don’t know why I gaged to answer — I don’t know yet.

— Well, you’re going to have two months to find out. The essay is going to take the rest of the winter to get done. — I didn’t know that. I still wanted to be alone, just with my own thoughts. I wasn’t paying too much attention to the classes.

— Great. — I said ironically but trying to put an end in that conversation.

Luigi stared at me for a while, looking like he wanted to say something.

— So, we see each other at school. — I said, giving him a smirk to seem like everything was fine and not to seem so rude.

— See you around. — Luigi gave me a shy nod, standing still, there for a couple of minutes, staring at me, until he came back to his senses and continue his way home.

On the next Friday, at the French class, while everyone was coming in, I went sitting next to the window at the back of the classroom. My friends generally used to sit on the first tables in the front row. They looked at me from there while they’d talk to each other, probably wondering if something was wrong.

Paolo came to my direction.

— What’s going on, Elio? — He asked me point-blank. He was looking upset.

— You must tell me. I'm the one who was push away and must deal with ten-year-old kids. — I said sarcastically, but with a straight face, defying his ton.

He starred at me, looked me in the eyes and said:

— You are not fine. We’re friend for like what? Our whole life? We’re not the closest to each other, but I know you. You’re different. You’ve changed since you’ve met someone last summer.

How could I tell I've fallen in love with a man. A man I desired more than any other I’ve ever desired in my whole life, a desire that would make ice burn in fire. It was not a regular thing for a teenager. I could not tell. I’d rather ghost in my friend’s life rather than leave this awkwardness among us. I didn’t know how to tell the truth to everyone. So, I just said:

— I just want to be alone. That’s it. — The mood got cold as the winter that was hanging over the continent.

— Bene allora! — He said hardly, as if he was saying good-bye.

At the same moment, Viktor came getting ready to seat by my side. He looked at Paolo excusably and glimpsed at me wondering: “What’s up with this boy?”. Paolo gave a quick look at Viktor, then at me, as he was concluding.

— Very much alone. — He said to me, with a disappointment in his eyes, turning around and going back to our friends.

— Is everything okay? — Viktor asked, worried.

— Yes, it is. There was just a misunderstanding. — I answered without looking at him.

— Bene! I’ve realized that your French is very good. Have you ever lived there? — He gave me an interested look, but casual.

— Oui, J'ai de la famille en France et je veux y vivre un jour. — I didn’t know if he has understood, but I wanted to impress him.

— You don’t need to brag. — He said with a funny look in his face and a smile in his mouth. — I speak a little too. Perhaps I will live there one day, who knows? — Have I humiliated him?

— Did you get it?

— I did, everything you said. I’m just not fluent. — He said, trying not to be so humble.

— Can I let you make the whole French essay, then? — I said to him, trying to make things better.

He smiles at me and looks like he’s having some fun out of it.

— Only if you promise me to show around. — Was he flirting?

— Avec plaisir. — Was I flirting back?

We passed the whole school break talking.

— Where are you from? — I asked him while I was observing his face. He had fine face lines just as Oliver’s. Blue eyes. Thin lips. Maybe if he’d combed his hair to the side, he could look decent.

— I’m from here. Milan, I mean. But I moved to Russia when I was ten. Moscow, the third Rome. My family is from there. — The Russian boy. He wasn’t well articulated, not as Oliver was, but he was insightful.

— What about you? Are you from here too? — He put his hands on his overcoat’s pocket when he did this question. The shy boy.

— I was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, near Boston. My father did college and worked for some years there. My maternal grandparents were Italians and I have uncles and cousins from France. An atypical combination. — I smiled. It was what I said to Oliver on our first conversation. But the shy boy and I had something in common: Both of us were born and raised in different places.

— What do you like to do around here? — He asked me. I was starting to like this boy.

—In the winter there’s not much to do, but I have an interest in music. So, I pass most of the time playing the piano, transcribing music, reading books and going to the only cinema around, in Pandino, with my friends. When it’s exhibiting something worthwhile, at least. — I smiled remembering the moments of fun between me and my friends we had before last summer. I glimpse at them gathered around and hanging like we always used to do in the breaks. — I can take you there, someday.

— It would be nice. — He suddenly got closer and fix the collar of my shirt.

— You have a nice look for a Russian. Where did you learn how to dress? — Giving a second look, he really seemed very stylish and good looking.

— Oh, Moscow is a huge city, so I met many people with diverse interests there. But I didn’t care much about fashion until I met Maxim. He’s the most genius person I’ve ever met in my whole life. He introduced me to the biggest stylists in the world and how fashion can be a way of expression and art. — He sounded proud while he was speaking. — But most of my references comes from the fashion magazines. Mainly the French ones. And I also...

— They are facing us right now. — I grabbed Viktor’s arm and turned us backside.

— Who? — He looked into my eyes and then to my hand in his arm. I let go immediately.

— Paolo, Luisa, Francesco and Luigi were facing us. I think it’s better we should go that way. — Then we went slowly strolling, as we were not being observed, into the direction of the gym.

— What is the best activity to do around here? — Viktor suddenly asks.

— I go to the arts club. But they aren’t much. It’s a little cheap to be honest. — Viktor went through the activity board looking for something.

— Hum... they could have a fashion designing club, around here. I bet I’d be the only boy in the club, anyway. — We look to each other and laughed. — Arts club, better not. What do you suggest then? — He turned to me, looking for help.

I wasn’t paying much attention. I was watching the boys in the gym playing some volleyball match. I remembered of Oliver and his naked large shoulders, sweat from the sun, fast in the volleyball square at the back of my family’s summer house. At that time, I was still denying any good feelings about him. I was grumpy for the way he charmed everyone already in the first week, when, deep inside it was budding a desire.

— What about the sports club? — I’ve said turning around to look at his big wild blue eyes with a large smile in my face.

— Are you sure? I don’t know if sports are my forte. — He wonders for a minute, considering the option.

— Well, you’ve got the physical for this, at least. — He was tall and slim and had a good body, thinking about it. — And is always good to combine some physical activity to help to improve some others cognitive abilities. — It wouldn’t be so bad to see that boy, shirtless, sweaty and showing off to everyone.

—Yeah, maybe you’re right. I used to play football back where I lived in Milan. It’s settled, then! — He opened a bright and shiny smile, what remind me of Oliver, then put his name on the list.

— Do you practice any sports? — He asks me while I was admiring his thin and pinkish lips.

— What? what?... Oh!... not regularly. I’ve been spending more time playing my piano than playing in the fields. But I like to swim and enjoy the water in the summer. — I blushed a little, hoping he didn’t notice I was staring at him.

— You should put your name on it, too. That way we could both get out after the match and know the city better. — He smirked, putting his hands in his overcoat’s pocket, trying to disguise the shyness. — Anyway, is always good to combine some physical activity to help to improve some others cognitive abilities. — We looked to each other and laughed.

He realized I was reluctant to put my name on the list, so he grabs my hand very gently, positioned in the board and write it down.

I blushed, but I smiled. We exchanged a significant look for a moment.

— It’s settled, then! — After he release my hand, I take my fingers to his mouth and gently rubs his lips. I didn’t know what I was doing. I tried to disguise and make it appear that I was wiping his mouth. Luckly, no one around noticed. But he seemed to like it.

The bell rings.

— I’ll take you to my secret spot, after class. — I haven’t gone to Fontanile since that day with Oliver.

The weather was nice for a winter, so I thought it would be a good idea for us to go with bike there. We went to my family’s apartment, my parents weren’t home, so I went straight to the basement to grab my bike and my old dad’s bike.

— Is it off town? — He seemed excited.

— One hour by bike. — I looked over my shoulder to see his reaction. — But it’s worthwhile, you can bet on it. — He was astonished with a large smile on his face.

I had already put my bike out of the deep of the basement, because it’s more used, but my dad’s bike was trapped in some Anchise’s old tools. Viktor came to try to help to pull it out and when it let go, I ended up falling above him. I didn’t knock him down, but I was face to face with him. We stared each other eyes for a moment and an impulse to kiss him, right there, emerged. I hold myself together for a second, dodging at the same moment when he went for a kiss. I was completely embarrassed, but that situation made it more excited to go back to Fontanile.

When we got there, nothing’s had changed. I was hypnotized, admiring the whole place for some minutes. The tree at Monet’s berm where Oliver and I gave our first kiss, the river with the freezing water (according to Oliver).

Although many flees were missing the old branches tree and the shallow river was with a truly freezing water, I still could feel myself at that warm day in that summer. I closed my eyes, and I could smell the sweet fragrance of the verdure, the crickets singing and the desire to be close to him. I must’ve looked like a fool, standing still with my eyes closed for so long that Viktor said:

— It must be a long time you don’t come here. — I woke up from my memories and looked at him. He was with his pants hem folded until almost to the kneels, his overcoat was folded carefully above his backpack, and he seemed happy there, staring at me with a with a lustful, grateful look in his eyes at the same time. He would do the unthinkable. He would enter the water.

— It really does six months since I’ve been here. But I feel like it was yesterday the last time. — I was approaching where Viktor was, at the ground stair that leads to the river, so I could stop him from going in. — Perhaps the water is too freezing for you to going in, don’t you think? — I’ve reached beside him and tried to appear like I knew what I was talking about.

— Well, maybe it is, but we will find out only if I get in. — And by saying that, he jumped into the river, with a large smile on his face and holding his hem. At the exact moment his feet were under the water, he came back jumping with a leg and another and lowing screaming until he reached the ground stairs again.

— Oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,oh....

I was laughing, no, bursting into laughing, so hard that even for a moment I forgot where I was. He stood in front of me with a malicious face. Suddenly, he starts to throw water from the river at me. Yeah, the water was really freezing.

— Ok, ok... I’m not laughing anymore. But you must assume that the water is truly freezing. — He stood, out of nowhere, rest his face and did the unpredictable: He let himself fall into the water, the whole body. I stood there with no reaction, although astonished. For a second, I had the impulse of jumping into that river with him.

He left out of the water shaking till the bones.

— I said the water was too cold. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. — I was giving a hand to help him get out of the river. Anyway, Viktor was still with a satisfied face.

— The better experience there is, my man. — We looked to each other with a smirk. He got out of the river, but he was still shaking to the bone. His lips were purple. I took his overcoat and took him the further away from the river possible, fearing he would try another dive into it.

— You said you had come from Russia and not from a mental house. — We sit upon the hill, near the tree. I covered him with his overcoat to try to warm him and was squeezing his hands, but everything seemed effortless.

— I’m freezing to my core soul, but I don’t regret. — He truly seemed satisfied with that experience. — In Russia, when we are camping at a very cold winter night, we take our clothes off and warm ourselves using our bodies heat. — He said that without eye contacting me. I simply started to take my clothes off. He looked at me and got a bit surprised by that, but soon he was taking his clothes off too. When we both were completely naked, one in front of another, I just hugged him.

We just hugged each other. It seemed like a quick, weird hug you give when you just meet someone. The situation was getting weirder.

— It would be an odd time to have an erection, right now. — He said, after a while. I smiled.

— Or maybe not. We could get warmer. — I said back. I felt him blushed, but then he laughed.

That conversation seemed to break the ice between us. And the hug became stronger. I tried not to touch my leg in his penis, but we were so stick together that it was inevitable. We heat it up. He had the skinny and large shoulders, just as Oliver.

He’s making me remember of Oliver when we were in that position was making me hard. I closed my eyes and felt back the heat of Oliver’s legs against mine, the way I used to hold his back when we were having sex, the way I felt him inside me...

— Ã... I think I’m warm enough now. — He let go of me. And I came back to reality. I wasn’t entirely with a hardon, but my dick was giving signs of life. Viktor didn’t seem embarrassed, though.

— I’m sorry! — I was so embarrassed and quickly put my clothes on.

— Everything is fine. Really. These things happen all the time. — He was being generous.

We go back to the city and when we arrived at my home, I was still a bit embarrassed.

— You shouldn’t be this way, Elio. I think it would be impossible not to have a half erection in that situation. I believe this happens with every Russian, but they keep it as a secret. You know, Russians are good on keeping secrets. — He really seemed okay with that. So, I eased a bit.

— We still must start to make the French homework. — I tried to redirect the conversation to another topic. But we indeed needed to start to write the essay. We already lost a week.

— True! What’s the theme, again? — We were already talking to each other as nothing had happened.

— L’Avenir! I will be the grumpy old man and you will be the loopy one. — I said dead serious, as a doctor give the diagnosis of a life or death. He laughed.

— A loopy old man who likes to swim at freezing waters and a grumpy old one who tries to warm him up, in any way possible. — We looked to each other as we were holding a secret only ours.

— At my house tomorrow, then? — I wanted to introduce him to my parents.

— I can’t. Tomorrow I’ll have an obligation. I’m busy the whole week, actually. But on other Saturdays I’m all yours. If we could do the homework at my home, it would be better for me. — I was surprised he was so busy living in Crema, but I agreed on us seeing each other on the Saturdays at his house.

The only class, me and Viktor had in common was French, that it was on Fridays, but we always see it each other at the breaks. We always hang out the most time under the stairs that give access to the classrooms on the second floor.

He talks about how his life in Russia was, a bit about his relationship with his parents, not giving many details, and his will to go to live in France.

I related a lot with him and his desire to go as far as possible.

Viktor would talk about his life as he was revealing everything, but he still seemed like he was keeping a secret. Sometimes, when he was talking about Russia, it seemed that he was trying to run away from some details about his life there.

In our first meeting to write the French’s essay, he received me quite discreetly.

— Ciao. — He said while answering the door. He seemed sneaky, almost like I was coming into his house with no permission.

— Ciao. — I said it back, trying to sound as quiet as possible. He already has said that his mother was in the house all the time, because she was in a risky pregnancy. So, I imagined that this maybe was the reason why all the discretion.

— Let’s go upstairs at my room. — He said it, leading the way.

When we got there, it was a very big room, it almost looked like another apartment there. There was a double bed in one corner and in another corner, there was a grand piano and a cello leaning on a chair.

— You didn’t tell me you also played. — I gave him a quite surprised, but impressed look.

— Well, this is one of the reasons why I’m so busy the whole week. — When I looked at him, he had a sad look in his face.

We sat and put all the studying supplies at a round table that was set in the center of the room, with a couple chairs.

The French’s essay theme was “future”. The teacher let us write about anything, only if it was related with the word future.

— What do you want to be in the future? — I unpretentiously asked Viktor.

— I have a dream to go to Esmond, in France, to study fashion. I’d really like to become a Stylist. Release my own designs. See them show on a catwalk. — It seemed like I was staring at a mirror when I saw the sparkle on Viktor’s face. His emotion while speaking was the same, I feel when I talk about my own dreams.

— We should write as how we imagine ourselves until ten years from now. Turning our dreams come true and becoming who we want to be. — I was excited with that idea.

Viktor agreed, but he was crestfallen.

— Didn’t you like the idea? — I put my hand over his to show that I was worried.

— I did! I did! Yeah! — He suddenly looked at me smiling, take his hand from under mine, putting it over, giving it a little squeeze and then carefully double-tapping.

That way we would meet every Saturday at his place to discuss about the essay.

Viktor is amazing. We have a lot in common, but in every moment, I’d saw him on sports square or when we’d hang out at school’s break, I could just think about Oliver. For some time, I wasn’t thinking about him anymore, but as much as I was getting closer to Viktor, I remembered of him more and more. Viktor was different from Oliver, but at the same time they had a lot in common. They had some physics characteristics alike, such as their eyes, the height and face traces. Viktor is shy and introspective. Oliver appeared as shy, but he just waits for the right moment to act. Viktor was spiritous as him. Both were nocturnal, although Viktor wasn’t a creature of the night. Viktor was someone who remembered me of Oliver, but he could never become him. What a shame.

At a Monday night, I receive a call from Viktor:

— Hello?

— Hi! It’s me. — He was whispering. He didn’t need to introduce himself to me anymore. I could recognize him only by the voice.

— Mon russe préféré! To what do I owe the pleasure? — Viktor could be so introspective sometimes, he could forget about me for days, with no call or visit. He could be a worser friend than me, sometimes.

— Oh! I wanted to go out tonight. You were supposed to show me around, remember? — I have forgotten. He was already talking normally now.

— Alright! We could go to the cinema, in Pandino. It stays close to... — Piave’s battle memorial. Where I confessed what I was feeling for Oliver.

— Bene! Are we going with bikes? — I didn’t want to go. But I didn’t have many choices of places to take him. And I already have suggested the cinema. Brilliant!

We went with bikes and when we arrived at the downtown, I stopped in front of the monument. The air was fresh, the night was pleasing, I closed my eyes and I transported myself to that day of summer besides Oliver.

— Do you know what are the movies in exhibition? — Viktor stopped by my side. I’ve opened my eyes and turned to him, a little confused and hiding a smirk.

— Movies? — I asked him rhetorically. He looked at me confused.

I leaned my bike on the railing that protected the monument and went walking to the direction of the only Teather of the city and made a head signal for him to follow me. Viktor was naïve. Different from Oliver who was mature and knew very well the reality of the world. I think I could teach a thing or another to the naïve boy.

After the movie, we went to the nearest bar to buy some beverage and leaned over the monument’s railing.

— I used to like very much to go to the movies in Mocow, me and my friends. — Viktor was looking straight ahead, holding his botte.

— Russian’s movies should’ve been bored, don’t they? — For what I’ve known, Russian’s cinema was purely political propaganda.

— Yes, they were. But we’d go to the forbidden movies. Where they exhibit American’s films, and even some Italian’s films too. I used to have a great group of friends over there. Almost like yours. — He turned to me with a smirk and a nostalgic look on his face.

— I miss my friends too. — It was the first time that I was assuming this to another person.

— What happened between you all? I’ve realized that something strange was happening between you and them when I’ve got here. It wasn’t my fault, was it? — The affectionate and sensitive way he showed to care, captivated me. It reminded me of Oliver.

— No! Not at all. Things were already strange way before you arrived. It’s hard to explain. I don’t have the right words for this right now, how I didn’t have the right words to talk to them. — Even on that moment, I was still concerned to tell anything.

— You don’t have to explain nothing. Neither to me, neither to them. Whatever it is, if you don’t feel comfortable to talk about it, it’s your choice. — He was talking like he’d knew and understood what I lived and how I was feeling.

I held my head on his shoulder, closed my eyes and I remembered the way I used to feel safe and understood on the arms and shoulders of Oliver.

We stood there for what it looked like hours.

— Elio, it’s getting late. We better head off. — He said while he put one hand over my head, giving it a gentle stroke. I look up and sees Viktor’s teary eyes.

— You know, there’s some kind of things about me that I also can’t talk to anyone. Some things that are hard to explain. But I had a friend who understood me, because he was just like me. — I wasn’t understanding where he wanted to get with this. — Maybe, you should find someone who is just like you. — I looked at him, confused. I wasn’t understanding what he meant by “find someone who is just like you”.

— You know, I had someone who got me. Someone who felt the way I felt. — I wanted to tell him everything. Tell him about Oliver, from my love and from everything I lived with him. — Don’t you like our friendship? — I held him by his arm, like I was trying to not let him escape.

— I do, Elio. But I don’t know what you want from me. — I’ve got confused. I didn’t realize how close I’ve got from him over all this time.

— Do you want something more than a friendship, Viktor? — I looked in his eyes. I needed to know.

He stared me back. It seemed like he was taming himself to say something.

— I love you, Elio. I love you like a friend. But I don’t know if this love can turn into something more. — He let go his arm from my hand. He made a move like he was going away.

I liked Viktor, but not in the same way he seems to like me. I wanted him around because he reminded me of Oliver. I needed him around.

— Wait! — I held his arm again. — I want to be more than friends. Is this it, then? Do you like boys? Me too! We can get it right. — He turned and stared at me. Then, he got close to me, slowly, touching my face with one of his hands and kissed me.

The winter came to an end and with it our French essay. Although, I don’t see myself with Viktor in the future, he got very excited with our meetings. He wanted, despite my strong reluctance, to put in our essay, us both living together as “friends” in Paris, each of us going after of our dreams. Myself as a successful conductor, presenting my own compositions at the biggest Teather from Paris and Viktor as a successful stylist, working for some big brand such as Chanel. As I wanted to please him, I agreed. With the condition of adding how I imagined my life in the university in New York. Because this was my biggest dream to turn reality, some months ahead, but I still couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Our relationship after that night in Pandino got warmed. I didn’t want to relate to him the same way he wanted to me. He seemed to be in love and would always do these romantic things for me, such as: write little notes with caring messages and love letters declaring himself for me. I just kept going with this relationship because every time I’d close my eyes while kissing him, I’d think about Oliver. Every moment I was laying my head on his lap, while we were in Fontanile, I’d close my eyes and think about Oliver. All affection that I was feeling for Viktor was just because I’d imagine Oliver on his place. For a while it seemed to work, but in May’s eve we had a conversation:

— Elio, I’ll go to France. — We were in Fontanile, with my head lying on his lap.

— Yes, I know, it’s your dream. — I was with my eyes closed trying to channel Oliver. I didn’t know why he was talking about this on that moment.

— Yes, it’s my dream. But my parents want me to go in a short abroad to France. Well, at least I’ve got them to send me to go. — I opened my eyes. That took me by surprise.

— Alright... hum... you can go... — I didn’t know what to say.

— I know that you want me to go. And I will go anyway. But I will return only in the last week of the summer break. — He finished saying that as I had to assume something. — And we didn’t have sex yet. — Ha! I knew I had to assume something. — And I really wanted to go to France having already lost my virginity. — I put myself sitting and looked to him with a wondering face. — And I really wanted to be with you.

I would have no problem fucking Viktor, I mean, he’s quite attractive. We have already masturbated together before (I was thinking about Oliver the whole time, but I guess it’s still counts, doesn’t?) and we almost had sex once, right here, in Fontanile. The truth was that I just have had sex with only two people in my life to this point: Marzia and Oliver. With Marzia, it was a desire to relief me and explore the feminine body. With Oliver, it was sincere. It had been a desire beyond curiosity, it was something passional, something I thought that I was never going to feel for anybody else, and yet I have not felt like that again. What would I have to offer to Viktor? Would it be fair with the poor infatuated boy, to have sex without feeling the same way back?

— What if we waited your return? — I was a little nervous. I was using Viktor as a voo doo doll of Oliver this whole time. But he wanted something that would make sense, that would mark his life forever. I didn’t know if it was fair.

— We wouldn’t have time. It would be our last week together. Don’t you want to? — He said with a confusing expression on his face. The mood for love the way he was talking with me was fading and a mood for insecurity was coming out. — Have I done something wrong? I can do anything you want me to. I don’t have a lot of experience, but you could guide me through it. I could... — I needed to put an end to that agony. I needed to do what was right. — Relax! It’s fine. Of course, that I want to! I mean, if it’s that important to you we have sex before you go to France... Mon amour, je vais te donner la meilleure nuit de ta vie!

On the way home, I was thinking if I have done the right thing, for certain. I have decided to have sex with Viktor because I wanted to please him, and in some kind of way return all the moments he made me feel like I was beside the true love of my life.

I was turn-on by Viktor. Every time we were kissing each other roughly, I’d always have a wood and I enjoyed those moments with him. But I was still in love with Oliver. I wanted to be kissing Oliver when I was kissing Viktor. I wanted to be grabbing Oliver’s dick when I was putting my hand inside Viktor’s pants. No! I would give the night Viktor wanted so much with me and soon enough when he would return from France, we’d say goodbye to each other and each one of us would follow their way in life.

When I walked in home, I left my bike in the entrance. When I was heading towards the stairs to my bedroom, my dad was sitting on the living room’s couch, reading a book.

— Elio! You seem anxious. Something happened? — My dad starred at me upside down. He knew how to read me better than anyone else in the whole world. Nothing seemed to escape his cunning eyes.

— No. I was just with a friend, chatting. — I haven’t sounded convincing.

— Maybe... wasn’t you thinking about Oliver? — He really knew how to read me.

— No. Why would I? — I said a bit off-color. — He must be getting married at this moment with... someone. I don’t have anything to do with that.

— Yes. In fact, he’s already married. — I looked confused at him. — He sent an invitation to his wedding. It was held on April 23rd, three weeks ago.

He was looking at me with a look of wisdom, as if he knew what he was doing.

I’ve got confused with that revelation.

— Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t we go? — I had a lump in my throat. I wasn’t used to feel angry with things or people. I have always thought that everything was part of life and a learning, but at that moment I got furious and with a wild desire to attack my father.

— It looks like you downed, Elio. — I couldn’t hide anymore. The tears were running down my face and my rage were probably showing off on my face. — I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want you to get hurt. I know you’d like to go, to see Oliver. Might one last goodbye. But that would just leave you tighten with the past you have with him.

— I’m already tighten to him. What we had together were strong enough to tighten both of us forever. — I whipped my tears. Saying that helped me drain a little of the rage I was feeling. — I think about him all the time, everywhere I go in this town, when I’m with anyone who is just a mere shadow of his memory.

— Is this what you’re doing with this poor boy? — He knew about Viktor. — You want so bad to be near Oliver that you’re pretending to love a boy who makes you remember him. Do you think it’s fair? — He asked me that as he didn’t carry a burden.

— It’s your fault too for not telling me about the wedding. For not showing me the invitation. For not have given me the chance of what could’ve been the last chance of saying goodbye to him, the way we deserved. You don’t have the right to question my morality. — I had already taken my anger. He didn’t own me anything more.

— He wouldn’t want that. You are aware of that. He made a call himself to talk about the wedding, in your winter break. He sent the invitation on behalf of me and your mother. He didn’t want you there. — I was already on my back, feeling triumphantly, towards the stairs, when that hit me like a stab in my back. — If you want to keep sleeping so you can dream about Oliver every time that you’re beside that boy, that’s fine. It’s your ethic, it’s your life. But when you realize that you spent your whole life dreaming and forgot to live, maybe it will be too late.

— Whatever. — That took the air out of my lungs. Knowing that Oliver didn’t want me around the day that could be our last goodbye. Knowing that I was fooling myself with Viktor and fooling the poor boy too. Knowing that I was thinking about Oliver all this time, when he was too busy with his academic life and with his wedding.

I ran upstairs. I was sad. I was finally feeling something real.

Elio, Elio, Elio. I woke up that morning with my whispers calling for Oliver, in the same way we used to do on bed. It was June 18th, Saturday. On this day I would have sex with Oliver, for the last time.

Since that discussion with my father that I found out Oliver didn’t want me near him anymore, my head was wondering between imagining myself in NYU’s corridors and through the lines of Oliver’s body. When I was alongside Viktor, I no longer saw him, I just saw Oliver there. I wanted Oliver there. When my hands travelled through his naked chest, it was my skin against Oliver’s skin. My skin against Viktor’s skin, were my skin against Oliver’s skin. I wanted Oliver there.

I got up from bed, even a little more excited than the usual of those last four weeks. I went to the sink and washed my face.

When I looked my reflection in the mirror, I noticed I was needing a shaving.

I went down the stairs to the living room and my parents were already in the kitchen taking breakfast.

— Morning, mon amour! — My mom said, caring as usual. — I prepared a couple of bacon with eggs for you, darling. — It was almost like she knew that I would be needing some extra energy for today.

— Good morning, Elio! — My father was strange since the last discussion. He doesn't make the passive-aggressive type, but every time we crossed each other, he looked at me with disapproval. We haven’t discussed the last topic anymore, so everything stayed the same, although.

— Good morning, everyone! — I went to the balcony and took the plate my mom did for me. My humor was increasingly getting better. Receiving the look of disapproval from my father day by day, was letting me depress, but on that morning, knowing what I would do tonight, it made me delight of rebellion on that look.

I spent the morning transcribing music. What keeps me distracting and not let me think about later tonight.

In the afternoon I met Viktor at the Piazza. We took a gelato and just chat. I was talking to him as I genuinely was paying attention at what he was saying, when I was thinking about Oliver the whole time. That night to Viktor was meaning the loss of the innocence. The seal from a lover to another. For me, that night was going to represent my last farewell with Oliver. The one that was took from me. The one that even Oliver, apparently, didn’t want to happen.

The night came. We set up to have sex in Fontadine, because that was the place, we always meet each other on Saturdays to flirt, talk and masturbate together. This was our dating ritual.

Before I leave the house, I went to the wardrobe and took the blue shirt that Oliver gave to me before he left. I pressed the shirt against my face, my chest, closed my eyes and started to evoke the remembrance of his touch on my, the heat, the hair, the strength of his hands holding me in his arms. That made me hard.

Now I was ready to have my night.

I left quite surreptitiously to not wake up anyone. When I arrived there, he was already waiting for me.

— Ow! You’re so hard that I can see it through your jeans. Ha, ha, ha... — He was looking at what really mattered that night.

I head to him; I leaned down and started kissing him. He slides his hand towards my erection and stroked my dick very gently over my pants. I started unbuttoning the shirt he was wearing, kissing his neck and slowly going down his chest.

— I was missing you so much. — I wanted him to know that if my dick was so hard that way it was because of him.

— We saw each other on this... — I kissed his mouth. This night, he was mine.

As I went down my kisses, I was feeling a pressure growing in the middle of his legs. He was getting hard too. He was mine.

I unbutton his pants and put his dick on my mouth. The taste was the same as it used to be. How I missed that taste. I was blowing his cock, while he was mourning of pleasure. I wanted him to feel so much pleasure that night that he would call me by his name. I wanted him to feel all my love tonight.

I took all my clothes off. He was already naked. I sat on his lap, looked inside his blue eyes and put his dick inside me. I started to move slowly, up and down, while we kiss. I carried on like this until the great summit. I was on the peak of my pleasure. I was coming. That moment I looked in his eyes and I couldn’t see Oliver anymore.

— Oliver? Oliver? Oliver? — I called for him, holding his face.

Viktor pushed me aside.

— Oliver? Who is Oliver, Elio? — He seemed like he was harassed by a stranger.

I lay down on the grass, chilling, exasperated and satisfied. I looked back to Viktor, and he was in fetal position, without understanding anything. I didn’t want to scare him. I just wanted to use him.

— Look, I’m sorry. Do you remember that another person I told you who knew how I was feeling? That another person is called Oliver. I found out until recently that he got married to another person. Invited my parents but didn’t want me to go. I just wanted one last night with him. A farewell. — There was anger on Viktor’s eyes. The pain of being used this whole time. The fragile way he looked hounded, as a child. That was making me feel like shit.

We stood there for a few minutes, absorbing what just happened, until he got his strength back, gets up hurried, gets dressed and leave, without saying anything.

Viktor went away to France the next day. I tried to call him to try to say goodbye without looking in his eyes, but he’d hung up the phone every time he’d hear my voice. It seemed like all the weight of the disapproval looks my father gave me last month started to make effect. I was feeling sick.

The summer’s vacation came and to think about Oliver, wasn’t a pleasant or nostalgic thing to do. To think about him was to remember of how I was sick. I walked away from my friends because I couldn’t share the “friendship” I had with Oliver. I was afraid of not being accepted. But they deserved the truth. I’ve met a boy as cool as Oliver was, but I never had the chance to know him better because I was too preoccupied the whole time on comparing him to Oliver.

I had finally met someone who liked boys, the same way I do, but I couldn’t have had any sincere conversation about it because I just could only think about Oliver.

We went to my family’s country house, and it was painful to walk in my bedroom for the first time since the last summer, when it was occupied by Oliver. I was sad and distressed.

— Mon amour, why don’t you invite some of your friends to visit us? This could cheer you up a bit! — My mother came from behind, putting her hands in my shoulders while I was sitting at the yard in the front of the house. If my father knew how to read me like anyone. My mother was like nature around. Always knew what I was needing.

— Yeah. That’d be good! — I got up and went to the house’s telephone.

I tried to gather all my dignity to call to Luigi, Luisa, Francesco and Paolo, and invite them to come here. I had taken them away from me at the beginning of the year, and after I’ve started my friendship with Viktor, I just ignored their existence.

— Elio? — Luigi was the first one I called. Maybe because of our closeness, he wasn’t holding too much grudge of me.

— Yeah, it’s me. I just wanted to see you...

— Of course! Anytime, my friend. — He sounded relief on the phone.

— There’s something I need to tell you. To all our friends. — I paused for a second. A knot was taking form in my throat. — I need to explain why I’ve been weird since the last summer.

— Certo, amico. I’m sure you’re going to be the weirdest possible about it. Elio being Elio. — He laughed on the other side. I laughed too.

I hung up.

Dialed again.

— Pronto? — Luisa’s voice never sounded so hard.

— Hello! It’s me. — I’ve tried to sound funny, maybe I sounded weird. Maybe Luigi was right.

— Elio? Mio dio! It’s been a while! I mean... how do you go away and come back out of the blue, as nothing had happened? I... — Luisa could be hard, but she is the mother of the group.

— I know! I know! Forgive me! I didn’t want this to be the way it is. That’s why I want to see you and everybody together, today, so I can explain myself. I need to tell the reason I’ve been weird since the last summer.

— Bene, amore! — She sounded in peace on the other side.

I hung up the phone and dialed again.

— Elio? Le tue gioie, amico! — Francesco seemed the happiest with my call.

— Can we meet today? There’s something I need to talk to everyone. — With Francesco it seemed like he didn’t hold any grudge.

I hung up the phone and there was only one more number to dial.

Paolo was the one who got the most upset with me after I departed from the group. The way he used to look at me when we crossed each other at school, bordered on insignificance.

— Pronto? — He answered the phone with the most charisma he always put in everything he does.

— Hello? Paolo? — I gathered all my dignity to say that “hello”.

— How do you have the balls to call me? — He sounded furious now.

— I know! I know! I’m sorry! I need to talk... — He hung up the phone. Maybe I would not get to talk and explain myself to all my friends today. I just hope I haven’t lost Paolo for good.

As they were coming, I was making everyone comfort in the living room.

Everyone was standing, each one in every corner, forming a circle. All staring at me.

— Well. I called all you here to tell what happened last summer. — It was costing me to say all those words. I could be only monosyllabic, sometimes. But I had to put it out. — I fell in love...

— Yes, with a man. — Luigi said. I looked at him as he had revealed something terrible from my past.

— Let Elio tell it, Luigi! — Luisa said, comprehensibly.

— Yes, it was with a man.

— We know, Elio. — Francesco said, as he was just revealing a plan from all four, I mean, three, had made.

— But it wasn’t just that. — I wanted to tell all my desire for Oliver, explain how we met, everything I’ve felt and discovered with him.

— Elio, everything is fine! — Luisa headed to me and gave a side hug. — You don’t need give the details of something that only belongs to you. We just wanted you to confess that you liked boys. Just that. — I was a bit confused now. Did they know everything? How?

— How did you know? — I was a little afraid to ask that question. Maybe I wasn’t ready for the answer.

— Elio, your cousin Mathéo told me that a couple years ago he saw you kissing a boy while your family were visiting. We already suspected that because, I mean, you’re a sensitive boy and very good on things. It’s your thing. Mainly because you were becoming weirder. — Luigi revealed. I stood there with no reaction. I didn’t know what to think, but a weight fell off my shoulders. It was like I was naked there, in front all of them, but without feeling ashamed or humiliated. I was comfortable being naked in front of my friends. — And we knew you must’ve got evolved with a man last summer. Your parents talked about your friendship with the last host. Then was to add two plus two. We didn’t want details of this relation. We just wanted you to feel comfortable to talk anything you’d like about it.

We gathered and gave a group hug.

— Take this, Elio. I wrote this one for you. — Francesco gave me a piece of paper.

I looked and there was a poem on it.

The boy from the music.

The boy from the books.

The boy intelligent.

The boy with a heart.

When you think that nothing lets us pass by,

With your own way of saying things, your mysterious way.

He’s always by your side.

It doesn’t matter the season or temperature.

Cold or hot

He will always be there

Making you feel dear

Even far away, in dreams

You will always be thinking about him

Thinking about on his only way to be,

As he will always be.

He will always be there.

I read and realized that I didn’t need to find the right words to say anything to them. I just needed to be present and be who I was.

— Are you guys mad at me? — It was a naïve question.

— Of course not! — All they said in unison.

— Please, tell Paolo that I’m sorry. I didn’t want things to get to this point. — I gave a glance at Luisa who was by my side. She nodded with teary eyes.

A month has passed since that night that I had sex with Viktor. I only could think about that since my last reunion with my friend. I didn’t know how to apologize with him for have used him the way I did. I tried to write a letter, but the pile of papers beside my desk was showing that I wasn’t being able to write anything good enough or sincere enough to say sorry. I had to look him in the eye.

I decided to call Viktor to talk with me, here in my parent's country’s house, just the way it was with my friends. Until then, I was enjoying very well the summer with my friends and cousins. Unfortunately, Marzia couldn’t come visit us this year, but I was making a new friend with the new host, Jennifer. She was funny, very good spirited and beautiful, but I didn’t feel nothing like that about her. I didn’t like to use the word gay, but maybe I was gay, after all.

In a very hot day, we were all gathered around the pool.

— Elio, did you come to our graduation? — Luisa asked. She was sitting in a sun lounger, sunbathing using her sunglasses.

— No! Did we have a graduation? — I was so obsessed about Oliver in our last week of school that I didn’t even bother to show up to the classes. — Was it cool?

— It was nice. Paolo was our speaker. He did a good speech.

I felt weird about it, so I just started to swing from one side to another.

I’ve been starting to forget about Oliver and just could think about Viktor. So much, that a call caught me by surprised.

— Hello! — I was excited. Just had to win a volleyball play.

— Hello, Elio? — It was Viktor. All the guilt and regret came back weighting in my back.

— Viktor? — An uncomfortable silence stood for a few seconds. — Are you okay? How it’s been there in Paris? — I wanted to do casual.

— Actually, I’m not in Paris anymore, Elio. I got sick and had to come back home. — I thought this was strange. It must’ve been something serious that he couldn’t get a treatment in Paris.

— We need to talk. — We both said it at the same time.

I still haven’t played anything on the piano that was in the living room. And even with my school friends there, our friends from France and our family coming, the house sounded silent.

Viktor insisted for us to talk in his house tomorrow.

I stared at the mirror and tried to rehearse a conversation with Viktor:

— I feel so sorry for everything!

— I was sick. Living in a dream about a past that wouldn’t come.

— Oliver was the first love of my life, and the romance we had was something that marked me inside for my whole life. I know, I know. This isn’t excuse enough to use somebody the way I used you, but I’m recognizing my own mistake. I just want you to understand that it was something impulsive. I was just acting by my desire.

Would those words be enough?

I went outside, in the front yard, and felt the sun heat burn in my face. I looked around and saw my mother in her orchard, my father sitting at the table taking an espresso, some people swimming by the pool and enjoying the water further away. Everything seemed calm and in peace. I was ready to talk to Viktor.

On the next day, I took my breakfast with my parents.

— Buongiorno a tutti! — I greet them.

— Morning, mon amour! I asked Mafalda to take and clean that blue shirt for you to wear it today. You look so nice on it. — I looked at her a little confused, but soon I got it what shirt she was talking about.

— I think I’ll wear something different today. — I nestled beside her. I knew she just had a good intention, but I thought that that wasn’t the moment to wear that shirt.

— Am I feeling you a little lightweight today? — My father asked.

Rhetorically, of course.

— I will talk to Viktor today.

— Who’s Viktor, mon amour? — My mom asked. I exchanged looks with my father. He may know about the Viktor existence, but they were never properly introduced.

— I hope you both have fun. — My mother knew how to bring lightness to any moment.

I arrived with my bike in front of Viktor’s apartment in the town. Left it propped up on the wall next to the front door. I went to the door and knocked.

A tall woman with long black hair, all gathered up in a disjointed bun, with a huge pregnant belly, answered me at the door. She had a little grim appearance.

— Hi, I’m Elio! A Viktor’s friend. Is he home? — I tried to sound the most charismatic possible. I didn’t know if Viktor had spoken about me to his parents.

— Hi, Elio. Nice to meet you, my name is Berenice. Yes, Viktor is home, but he’s very sick right now, I don’t know if it’s a good time for visiting. — She seemed in a hurry and was just closing the door, until Viktor show up at the door.

— Vic, you should’ve been resting. — She turned to him. She put one hand at her belly while she seemed worried about her son.

— I’m fine, Mammina! I woke up in a good mood today. Don’t worry! — He gave a kiss in her forehead, and she left.

— Is everything fine, Elio? — He had lost weight, was pale and looked very sick, but either way he seemed to be feeling well today.

— Everything is fine with me. But I must confess that I have seen you better. — I just smile condescendingly for him.

He just let the way free for me to go. I didn’t need to be guided to his bedroom, when I already been there countless time.

— You’ve never introduced me to your parents before. — I said a little irreverent.

— You’ve never introduced me to yours too. — He replied.

— Call it quits. — I didn’t want to discuss or argue little grudges on that moment. There was bigger things to deal with.

— Elio, there’s something I need to tell you. — He started talking, but it was me who should be talking.

— No! It’s me who should say anything. I... — He raised his hand in a signal for me to stop talking. He seemed tired.

— I’m sick, Elio. At this moment I’m with pneumonia, but all it started with a dry cough. — I didn’t know why that was relevant to our conversation, to our history. He was young. He for sure would recover from that. — The doctor said that it should be flown by a few days, If I keep with the right treatment and all that. But I’ve been feeling abdomen pain and other strange symptoms.

— It must be just an infection! I’m pretty sure it will be flown soon. Look, I really think that we should be talking about another thing. — He raised his hand again.

— I’ve been reading about some news on a certain virus that is spreading through the United States. And some of the symptoms are alike of what I’m having. — Virus? What Virus?

— What are you talking about? — I looked at him confused, but at the same time I remembered of some news I’ve read in an American newspaper my father bought to house someday, about a virus that only affected gay men and it was uncurable.

He understood the look on my face when I just realized about what he was talking about. Maybe because the horror took place on my face.

— How? You just had sex with me! — I was desperate. I couldn’t have the virus. If I had the virus, maybe Oliver had too.

— No. I didn’t only have sex with you, Elio. — He was saying that with a sad countenance, regretfully and a disheartened posture. — Some few days I arrived at Paris, I went to a gay bar and met a man. He was some few years older than me. Handsome, charming, intelligent and French. He was perfect. One of the best nights of my life. I wasn’t even thinking about you anymore. Almost two months later when I was in Paris, this man came looking for me. He was with a very sick appearance, with some eruptions on his skin. So, he came to tell me he got positive for AIDS. — He stumbled at the closest chair after telling this. I didn’t know what to do. If I’d run away from there or just hug him to try to consol him.

— You need fresh air. That’s it! Come to my house. It will be good for you. — I didn’t know what I was talking, but I felt that he needed more people looking after him. — Luisa, Francesco and Luigi are there. We can help to take care of you.

— Don’t! Nobody must know about this, Elio. Please, promise me you won’t tell no one! — He seemed so desperate like his life depended on it. — There’s a reason I would call you only on Saturdays to my house. Because on Saturdays my father isn’t home. He knows I’m gay. My father banned me of bringing any man inside to this house, even a friend. If my father would find out I have HIV... I don’t know what he’s capable of.

Now I get it. But it made even more sense now for him to stay by my house the rest of the summer.

— Viktor, I can only image the weight of everything you must’ve been carrying on your shoulders right now, but I believe that doesn’t have a better place for you to be than on my house. My friends already know about me and I’m pretty sure they will receive you with an open heart. Do you have any plans? — I was decided that I would take care of him. It was the least I could do.

— I managed to convince my father to let me go to ESMOND. Then, after the summer I’m going to live in Paris. — He put himself together. — I think I can go to your house, Elio.

It was Sunday morning when Viktor arrived by car. I have already talked to my father about Viktor’s situation, clarified everything and he promised me he wouldn’t tell anyone and accepted him to stay here only if he could receive medical treatment.

I helped to carry the luggage and adjusted my bedroom so he could make himself comfortable. We would have to share my room, while Jennifer would have to stay on the side bedroom. I talked to her and explained I would receive a friend who was very sick. She made no objection and offered the room for us. My father didn’t object to this, either. He trusted in me, even understanding that the virus could only be transmitted through sex.

All set up, we went down to catch a little sun and bathe in the pool.

— It’s so pacific here. — He was lay down by the pool edge, with the body wet and wearing his sunglasses. — It’s almost like we are in an Oasis. A rest from the real world. Cough, cough, cough... — He wasn’t all recovered yet from the pneumonia, and we would receive a doctor visit today, on the afternoon.

— I think we should get dry and come in. There’s an air current through that must not being well for you. — I wanted to take care of him. I wanted to talk to him more. Pay attention on what he had to say, at least once.

We got in and went to the living room. He wears my old Talking Head shirt, one of my favorites. I sat down on the couch, and he lay down his head in my lap.

We stood there for a few minutes in silence. I was thinking in every moment of interaction I had lost. When I was too busy with Oliver in my head, instead of paying attention on Viktor.

— Do you play it so well as it looks? — He asks suddenly.

— Bach reincarnated. — We both laugh. — And what do you play exactly?

— I play Violin, Viola, Cello and a bit of piano. — I got impressed. — But I don’t like anything I play. — It must be a sad life to practice the whole week such beautiful instruments and not be delighted by not even a note that resounds off it.

— I know you like fashion. What else do you like? — I wanted to know who Viktor was.

— I like to draw. And not just clothes designs, but I like to draw people and animals. My favorite drawing is one I made when I was ten. The were a few days left for us to go to Moscow and I was sad for having to abandon my friends and my hometown. Me and my friends used to hunt wild animals in the yard. So, there’s this day, I was by myself, and found a wild rabbit. Which is a little rare, since they hide on their holes during the day. He seemed lost and afraid. I kept looking at him and observed every detail until he was gone. — I was imagining the whole scene while he was telling me the history. I imagined a ten-year-old sad Viktor.

— It must be a very realistic drawing. — I was imagining every trace of that drawing.

— Kinda, actually. I tried to capture the fear the rabbit was feeling on that moment. Because it was almost like the same fear, I was feeling for having to go to an unknown land. — I didn’t know he could be so deep.

— Are there any happy moments in your life? Per l’amor de Dio! — We both laughed.

— I’ve had some happy moments among my friends in Moscow! What do you want to know? — I wanted to know if there was any love.

— Did you already fall in love? — I asked, while stroking his hair.

— Yes. He was from my gang. But we didn’t have a happy ending. — He seemed very well resolved with this. — Actually, there’s a song I like to play. — he disengaged from my hands and stood up, going directly to the piano.

Viktor sits down to the piano, take a deep breath, straighten his posture and starts to play beautifully Album for the Young (mamma) from Tchaikovsky.

I was admiring him from his back, and it looked like I was watching myself playing. The whole time I was searching for Oliver on Viktor, when it was me that I should’ve been searching on him. A new me, a new love.

The summer ended. I went to New York. Viktor went to France, but we kept in touch through letters. He kept getting sick but kept fighting bravely for his life. It was all water under the bridge between us. We had a sincere conversation before each one of us go away searching for our dreams:

— You have said you needed to say something for me, that day on my house. — Viktor sat down by my side on the couch.

— Yeah. — I made myself comfort in my seat and started to talk without looking at him. — Viktor, I like you. A lot. But unfortunately, all the moments we had together, I was thinking about another person. A person I love deeply. And that I couldn’t get over until now. — I looked at him. — After we had sex, making all that, thinking about him, I felt sick and maybe I was sick. But I realized that I couldn’t spend my life living an illusion just so I could have moments with him, when I was forgetting to live the here and now. — I took his hands. — I see you the way you are. I want to listen to all the histories with your friends in Moscow. I want to listen you complain about your father. I want to be able to talk to you about what both of us feel about men. I want to be your friend and maybe something more, one day.

He puts his other hand below mine and take it to his mouth, give it a kiss and say:

— I see you too, Elio.

I took our hands to my mouth and give it a kiss too.

#call me by your name #CMBYN #fanfic #2017 #anniversary #elio #i see you #movie #tale

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