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alamanyar · 5 years
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through the keyhole; [teen and up audience] character’s pov: martino ships: martino x niccolò summary: five times martino didn’t say I love you and one time he did chapter summary ⟶ you’re (amazing): domestic boyfriends. basically a future version of 'nel mio letto' maybe a bit more angsty (sorry)
chapter word count: 5.985 read below or on ao3 (thank you, if you do) ♡ I "Hm?" Martino was standing at the side of the bed in nothing but his underwear when Niccolò’s voice pulled him out of his trance. The black-haired boy he was entitled to call his boyfriend. He still couldn't grasp it at times. 
"What did you say? Sorry." He looked over to the desk where Nico was sitting at.
The latter peered over his shoulder and perked his eyebrows up in amusement. “I wanted to know what you're up to.”
"Well", he grabbed his boyfriend's pyjamas from under the pillow at the headboard, "I was thinking of watching some clips Giò sent me."
“Yeah?”, Nico called back, his voice soft, and yet, clothed in a tremble. It was barely audible, but Martino sensed that something was off. He looked over to the desk again just as Nico turned around in the chair. "What kind of videos?" He seemed to have bounced back already, his voice as clear and jovial as ever. Maybe he misheard, Martino thought.
He decided to let it slide- not every change in tone meant something. “Yeah", his voice merely a shadow as he fumbled through the action putting the pyjamas shirt on, "he wants my opinion on his latest skateboarding skills." He laughed then. Those were his best friend's words, and he wouldn't correct them. After he finished putting the pants on, he pressed his hands to his hips and caught Nico's eyes who seemed to be disappointed that he was dressed again- or so he thought. He shot him a reproving look, his lips forming an amusing smile, however. "And you know, since we’ve studied for a good while now by your parent’s request, I think we've earned a break. You said you wanted to draw, didn't you?” He took the blanket from the bed and shook it.
“I can always draw another time, you know?”
“True. But you also said you were inspired earlier.”
Nico’s lips twitched and he rubbed over the skin above his eyebrows. “You don’t mind?”
“Why would I?” Marti lay down on his side of the bed, wrapping the blanket around him like a cocoon.
It was a few days into the New Year and school wouldn't start until next week. They had spent most of the holiday together. On some days, Martino had merely come over to sleep next to Nico since his exhaustion hadn't completely worn off. Not that he minded at all. If there was a way he could help him coping, he'd do it in a heartbeat. He finished wrapping up and caught Nico's smirk when their eyes met.
“You’ll die of hot flush, Marti", he claimed, removing himself from the desk.
“I’m wearing your pyjamas, remember? It’s fine.”
The thing was, Martino often changed into his boyfriend's pyjamas and he always wrapped himself into a cocoon blanket when he was over, loving his scent, wanting to drown in this earthy, slightly made of cedar wood, dream-like smell that surrounded him with warmth he wouldn't want to miss.
Nico was giving him a side glance as he got rid of his own trousers, and seconds later, he was crawling onto the bed.
“You know, you could just wear your underwear underneath all of this.” He waved his hand over Martino’s posture.
“Your dad is home. So, no.”
“Ah, you’re boring like that, I almost forgot.” Nico chuckled and Marti would have been offended, if his boyfriend wasn’t all adorable laughing into himself.
“You wanted to draw, remember?” He tried to sound annoyed, but he was pretty sure Nico could see right through him. "That's why you got rid of your trousers", he emphasized just for the sake of it.
“Always so bossy.” He shook his head and crawled closer. “Have fun with your videos.” He gave him a quick kiss and was about to move away again, but Marti raised his head so that he could nudge his nose.
“Have fun drawing.”
He gently rubbed his nose against Nico's before he kissed it. Ever since the morning after that eventful night on the school's terrace, it had become their thing. Martino remembered how relieved he had felt. What he had hoped in his heart all along finally became certainty. Nico's feelings were genuine; they always had been. He was positive he'd never forget this moment of liberation that had rushed over him that night. It had carved its way into his skin- as a token, and as an abiding memory. And perhaps Nico's emotions weren't as heightened compared to his owns then, but when he had woken up the morning after their reconciliation, Martino knew that all the suffering had been - and would be - worth it. Such a stupid saying actually, at least, that's what he had always thought, but Nico, despite everything, smiling his sunshine smile that day, made him realize that it was true after all. It basically came down to love having the power to conquer every burden. Both in theoretical and practical terms. He got that now. 
So, naturally, he'd never get sick of kissing Nico on the nose since it always put him in a good mood. But he loved getting those kisses, too, and yet, before this thing of theirs could turn into something more, Marti drew Nico close by the collar of his jumper, gave him a peck, just so he could push him away, ever so gently, but not without smirking.
Nico heaved a sigh, but his eyes were shining and the corner of his mouth curved into a delicate smile. And so Marti let Nico collect some drawing materials which he spread out on the side of his bed. He tried not to look at his boyfriend’s bare legs which he had seen more than once, of course, but he still got all flustered when he saw them or any part of Nico’s body, that was. He still wasn't there believing that they were together for real now, even though he’s never felt this comfortable in his life. Naked skin and all.
He plugged the earphones in and clicked play on the first video while Nico started sketching beside him, legs crossed and sleeves pulled up, as per usual. His boyfriend got up from time to time, collecting all kinds of drawing utensils from his shelf. Every time he fetched something, Martino couldn't help but follow his every action. Sometimes it was something of daily use, like a rubber, a pair of scissors or another pencil, and sometimes he came back with a picture book he’d search for inspiration or pages he could use for collages. In the end, he used the sketchbook as drawing pad. Martino suggested that he'd better work on his desk, giving the fact that Nico had hoarded quite some materials which were now lying all over the side of his bed. He also didn't want his boyfriend to suffer from aching muscles tomorrow, but Nico wouldn't have any of that. Instead he came back with his next conquest. It was a kitchen tool Martino had absolutely no clue what use it held, but his boyfriend sketched it with great intensity and concentration.
It did something to his heart. He was positive he felt it flutter while he observed Nico’s aura in these moments. Brow furrowed with wrinkles, tongue sticking out merely a tiny bit, and hands guiding various pencils over the sheets of paper, emptying and filling his mind in equal measure− Martino was sure of it.
There was no doubt that he was far gone for the boy next to him, and in this very moment, he felt the devotion jumping out of his chest. He was aware, because for one, the corner of his mouth started to hurt from grinning, and two, his cheeks were heating up as well as his upper body.
Nico’s mouth moved then, pulling him out of his trance, yet again.
“What? I didn’t hear you?” He paused the video, grinning, probably looking like an idiot.
“I said stop looking at me.” Nico gave him a quick look of disapproval. “You’re distracting me.”
“Sorry, continue.” He pressed play again and chuckled into himself.
He’d be a liar, if he didn’t like the fact that he could hold such power over his boyfriend. Usually it was him who uttered those lines, so yes, this was a nice change for once. He kept glancing at the boy who was sketching in a medley of tranquillity and occasional outburst of passion. With vigorous movement, Nico guided the pencil over his artwork, or as it seemed, into his artwork, becoming one with it, so to speak. And every time Martino saw his boyfriend perform such an act out of the corner of his eyes, he smiled to himself, feeling the adoration he held for him in every fibre of his body. Giò had been right to call him a goner. 
After he had finished sketching the ominous kitchen tool, Nico gathered paintbrushes and colours around him. Martino was about to ask him why the hell he’d wanted to paint his sheets, but before he could say anything, the brush in Nico's hand landed on his face. Of course it did. His boyfriend knew he was ticklish and he fully took advantage of it. What a shithead. It didn’t take long though and the utensil was forgotten, and they were making out, exploring each other’s faces thoroughly, getting rid of the blanket Marti was still wrapped in while trying to stay on his side of the bed.
"I could paint you, you know", Nico breathed into his ear.
"Don't be ridiculous."
"You're beautiful, Marti."
"Shut up."
Maybe he would let him. One day.
Nico was lying on top of him now, working on his neck, holding his face in place firmly. His grip made him feel as if he was something special. Someone special. Martino sighed.
He moved his head then so that he could capture Nico's lips into a kiss. He seemed to know what Marti wanted and started kissing him slowly, carefully even, while stroking his cheek with his thumb.
Perhaps those kisses were Martino’s favourite ones. When their tongues danced around each other, almost lazily, accompanied by his tingling skin and butterflies bustling about inside his stomach. When their hands roamed over each other, when Nico searched for his skin underneath the clothes, when he grabbed the hair at the back of his head, and when he bit down on his lower lip. The black-haired boy sent him to places he didn’t dare dream of, all in the span of seconds.
However, Marti had discovered quite recently that his boyfriend kind of responded every time he kissed the skin above his eyebrows. Oh, sweet revenge. When he rolled them over, that's when he had him. Under him, pressed into the pillow, defenceless. He took his time to tease him - first with feather-like kisses, and then, nuzzling his nose over the skin deliberately, tracing an invisible line – and watched how Nico shivered when he blew air over the sensitive spot. That was one of Martino’s favourite facial expressions on him. Eyes closed and lips formed into a content smile. If he were an artist like Nico; he'd paint him precisely like that. And so he forgot that he actually wanted to keep teasing him. He just melted into Nico's body effortlessly then, putting his hands under his shoulder blades, squeezing him and hugging him tight to his chest. Not wanting to let go. Why would he? This, sharing an embrace with Nico, was his safe haven. He's never really felt like he belonged before, not anywhere in this world, nor let alone to anyone.  
Elia would have called him a lucky bastard. 
They stayed like this for a while until Marti untangled himself abruptly, Nico protesting vehemently in the process, trying to tug him back to his chest, but Martino was quicker. He kissed the skin right above his elbow and pushed him back to his side before he wrapped himself into a cocoon again.
Nico rolled into some of his materials and they both laughed at that, Martino a bit more maliciously which Nico responded with flipping him off.
He was still grinning when his boyfriend put his trousers back on and continued working on his desk. He already missed him and the diverse sheets of paper beside him, but he was glad nevertheless. Just recently, Nico had told him that his creativity wasn't something that he could summon whenever he wanted. No, it attacked him sporadically. And when that happened, he had to get it out of his system before he imploded. That wasn't something he wanted for him, of course. Just the thought of the possibility made his heart heavy.
When he watched him sitting on his desk, he knew that it had been high time for Nico to get creative. His arm guided the brush over the paper- sometimes his whole upper body moved in union with it. Like a dance he had to carry out. Maybe, he thought, that dance was a battle all the same. Martino barely registered what happened on his phone anymore. He was utterly entranced until the shadow of Nico's voice burst his bubble of thoughts. For the umpteenth time today, he paused the video and removed one of the earbuds.
"Hm?"
"You're distracting me again."
"I'm not doing anything?" He claimed, his voice throaty, knowing exactly what Nico was hinting at.
"If I turn around now, I know I'll see you smiling."
"Is that so bad?"
"No, not at all."
"I'm sorry for distracting you." He really was.
Nico put the brush aside. "Let's have some coffee. I'm getting tired anyway." He turned around. "See. You're smiling."
Indeed, he was. Strangely enough, Nico's comment made him smile even brighter. "Let me help you." He was about to get rid of the blanket when Nico interrupted him with a dapper wave of the hand.
"No, no, I'm on it. You stay here. I'll be right back."
Marti protested, but Nico was already at the door. "Before you've put on your clothes, I'll be back already anyway." He scrunched his nose and slipped out of the room.
It was more or less a lie. It took him quite a while to get back. In the meantime, Martino made himself comfortable again and closed his eyes. His mind wandered to different places at the same time, and yet, he felt himself wrapped into an even warmth. Perhaps the afternoon sunbeams interloping into the room through the window were a reason for that, but Marti always felt comfortable in Nico's world. Whether it was here or at his place or whenever they were together. Hell, just thinking about Nico and how loved he made him feel never failed to amaze him. He always came back to thinking how it enveloped him, just as the rays of sunshine which were enveloping this very room with a calmness, so gentle and yet palpable.
Martino's favourite colour might be blue, but right now he was gleaming in all sorts of yellow nuances. Luchì would have said it showed.
And then, just before he dozed off, Nico slipped back into the room, his voice nonchalantly ringing in his ears, almost sing-song like. "Sorry, had a chat with my dad."
"No worries." Marti got up into an upright posture and tucked the pillow between his back and the headboard. "What were you chatting about?"
"Ah, you know, this and that." Nico positioned a trayful of biscuits and two cups of coffee on the middle of the bed. "He told me about his new project, you know."
"Which is?" Martino poured sugar into his cup and started stirring the beverage. For a fleeting moment he closed his eyes just to soak up the familiar scent. Not long ago he would have said it was his favourite smell in the world.
"Some building north the city." Nico was sitting cross-legged on his side of the bed now and took a sip of his coffee, glancing at him over the rim of the cup.
Unlike his boyfriend, he finished his coffee in one go. "You sound disinterested?"
"Naw, I just, you know, sometimes he talks for ages."
Martino chuckled, knowing exactly what Nico meant. His father's floods of words were quite endearing actually, but he wasn't walking in Nico's shoes on a daily basis. There were a few things he'd never fully grasp. He'd never know how much pain Nico actually went through, he could only ever imagine. And just before his thoughts could wander to darker places, he heard a clinking noise of porcelain hitting metal. When he looked up, a pair of curious eyes stared back at him. Martino knew that look well. Before he was able to form a coherent reasoning, a biscuit was stuck between his teeth.
“Stop that”, he giggled, while taking a bite off the sweet, leaving crumbs on the sheet.
“What? You don’t like them?”
“Don’t look so smug.”
“Why would I do that?”, Nico answered and leaned in to give him a peck on the lips.
“Your eyes don’t lie.”
“Ah no?”
“No.”
“Well, what can I say, amore, you make me feel things.” His boyfriend gave him one of his best lopsided grins. One of those that made him weak in the knees.
“Is that so?”, he raised his eyebrows, trying to ignore the butterflies in his belly.
“Oh, you haven’t noticed?” Nico took a bite of the biscuit in Marti's hand and then he gave him another peck on the lips, leaving crumbs there.
Marti laughed and wiped over his mouth with the back of his hand. “No. No, I really haven’t.”
They held their gaze for a moment. Martino was absolutely certain that he must’ve looked like a dumbstruck idiot. But it was alright. Actually, he had stopped caring about that a while ago. He knew he was one of those people who blushed easily, but Nico always looked at him with what he'd call a mix of endearment and boldness when that happened. And that made it even more okay.
Filippo would have called them sickeningly adorable.
“Will you show me your latest sketches?”, he broke the silence, being in desperate need for a distraction, but he was also curious about Nico's art, and seeing him so very caught up in it today, had gotten him even more curious.
“Huh? You’ve seen them. They’ve basically been in front of you the whole afternoon.”
He glanced at the drawings lying on the desk. He saw the early stages and knew Nico had worked on outlining miniatures of fairies once again. They were little superheroes in his eyes; sitting on one’s shoulder, always watching out for the ones in need, so he had told him. He had sketched some with a pen, and then later − after he had stopped using the brush to tickle Marti − he’d coloured the fairies in shades of green and yellow as well as the star dust around them. Nico had held up various sketches asking him which one he liked best. Martino was bad at deciding and he liked them all anyway. He always did.
“No, I meant the ones you’re working on when I’m not here.”
Nico’s eyes stopped track in time for a second. It was as if he was contemplating of what to say or give away. “Uh, I told you I’ll show you when they’re finished.” He scrunched his eyebrows. “Be patient, amore.”
“But most of the sketches from today aren’t finished either. And you’re not hiding them.”
“Listen, I don’t hide the others−“
“Yes, you are.”
He stuffed the rest of the biscuit into his mouth and looked at Nico who was eyeing him suspiciously.
“Are you taking the piss out of me?”
Martino snorted with laughter.
“You shithead!”
“Hey now, you fool with me plenty of times! It’s only fair.”
Nico’s eyes held a shine in them, twinkling almost. Martino noticed a ghost of a smile on his lips as well and started grinning when he looked back into his eyes. They told him how comfortable his boyfriend was. How happy he was that they were together and that there wasn’t anything between them that wasn’t right. That he could fool with him right in this very moment, in Nico’s room, surrounded by light yellow curtains and wooden furniture, where it was only them. Eva would have said they were a match made in heaven.
The outside world was okay, too, being with their friends and loved ones that was, but nothing came close to their moments alone. It was as if they lived in a safe house. Wrapped up in a shared blanket, waiting for sleep to take them. Even if it was merely imaginary.
“Hey, you have something there.” Marti pointed at Nico’s mouth then.
“Hm? Where?” He jiggled his head.
“Right there.” He propped his elbows up on his thighs - his boyfriend clearly waiting for him to close the distance - and slowly made his way up to kiss the left corner of his upper lip.
Nico’s lip twitched for a second. And then he traced the spot with his thumb.
“Biscotti flavoured kiss?”
“Biscotti flavoured kiss.”
He had the biggest grin on his face, and when he felt Nico's lips touching his own, he felt him smile into the kiss, too. He could say something, he thought.
“Hm-hm and a little bit of coffee, too.” Those weren't the words lingering on his mind, but—
Nico laughed. His shoulder trembled a bit and Marti melted into him. Again. His boyfriend’s laugh always did this thing to him when his cheek would just burn instantly. Not quite like fire, but with a certain warmth that was electrifying and calming at the same time.
The kiss turned deeper. Not like earlier. There was more hunger now. Tongues started grazing each other and fingers tugged at sleeves and elbows after they had gotten rid off the blanket again, this time more clumsily.
Martino took control whilst setting a slow, yet steady pace. It hadn't happened often yet, him, taking the reins. There still existed a certain shyness under all his eagerness to devote himself completely to their sexual intimacy. Nico had told him not to hold back, and it wasn't that he did it on purpose, but at times he was unsure if he was doing it right; whatever that meant. Maybe he was thinking too much about it. However, there was no way he’d get sick of Nico’s laugh. He always wanted to hear it. He wished he could kiss it away to put it in a jar that he could open whenever his boyfriend wasn’t with him. It made him all mushy and more in awe of him than he thought was possible. Yet here he was.
He rolled them around and slotted a thigh between Nico's thighs. While he stifled a laugh when they hit the tray, Nico cursed. Somehow they managed to shove it away with their hands and feet while their lips stayed glued together. He listened to Nico slightly starting to moan. It was more like puffing out air more rapidly each time their tongues parted, but it made him even more eager to kiss him absolutely senseless. Right here in this very room where he learned so much about him on one Friday afternoon. October felt like a lifetime ago.
Someway in between his attempt to make the object of his desire melt into the sheets, Nico managed to get a hand of his helix piercing with his thumb. It was enough to make him jolt. His boyfriend laughed into their kiss, his curls tickling his cheek, reinforcing the already existing tingling sensation going through his body.
“Ni, I swear...ughh.”
“Mh-mh yeah?” Nico kept grazing the metal with his thumb, slightly tugging at it.
“Ni, stop it, I swear”, he huffed in between smooches, digging his fingers into every spot of Nico's skin he managed to grasp.
“What?”
“Not now, your dad...”
“Who gives a fuck.” He felt Nico’s lips on his neck.
“I do”, he panted, feeling a throbbing heat to begin in his stomach.
“Of course, you do”, he sounded annoyed, yet his lips had arrived at his earlobe, biting down gently.
“Ah, I really don’t−“
“What?”, he asked more slyly and twirled his tongue around the piercing.
Marti's leg kicked the bed rest. He was at that point where he had lost control of his body, muscles doing whatever the fuck they wanted. He loved and hated it at the same time; especially in this very moment.
“Oh God, I swear, Ni...”
Nico ignored his plea. He really was insufferable. It wasn’t that he hated his boyfriend’s caresses on this particular body part of him, no, in fact, he loved them. It was just that he couldn’t bare Nico’s dad to interrupt them. Just the thought of that made him nauseous. How would he be able to look an older version of Nico in the eyes? They both shared the same pair of black curls and their eyes held the same shine in them. Martino was absolutely certain he'd melt in shame on the spot.
He managed to take a hold of his jumper's collar. “Ni, I swear... please...”
Nico's breath was hot and heavy on his skin, making his toes curl. “Marti... you drive me insane. It really isn’t my fault.” Another twirl around the metal followed by his leg kicking the bed rest again.
And then, a knock. Martino froze in a jiffy.
“Yeah?”, Nico called out, irritated.
“You boys alright?", a muffled voice called back.
Don’t open the door, don’t open the door, please don't open the door!
Marti buried his face in the crook of Nico's neck. It was bound to happen one day, he knew it. Perhaps he could disappear into the shielding niche of skin until the coast was clear again.
“Yeah, sure, pa", Nico called back while caressing his jaw with his thumb. Martino wished he'd stopped doing that, having trouble cooling down as hard as it already was.
“Thought I heard a dull noise, or well, something similar.”
“No yeah, Marti just stumbled against the bed...”
“Ah− you good, boy?”
He raised his head at the question, shooting a piercing look at Nico who was clearly entertained by his discomfort. “Every-everything’s fine”, Marti tried to answer with containment, but he felt his voice trembling. Nico snorted with laughter whereupon he nudged his shoulder.
“Oi!”, he cried out in fake pain.
“Niccolò?”
Martino thought he saw Nico’s dad trying to push down the handle of the French door.
No, no, no- don’t open the door! Don’t come inside!
He pointed to the door while trying to stare holes into Nico's eyes who was still terribly amused. What a shithead, Martino contemplated, trying not to grin at his own thought.
“Everything’s good, pa. Marti is just a bully, as usual.”
He nudged him in the shoulder again.
“We’re fine. Everything’s fine, don’t worry.” Nico said more earnestly now, putting his hands up in surrender.
“Okay.” A pause. “Listen, are you staying for dinner tonight, Martino?”
He turned his head towards the door, trying to regain his composure. “Um, well, actually I... I have a... dinner date with my mother tonight, so no.”
“Ah, what a shame− okay, you, uh, you boys continue. I see you later.” He listened to footsteps disappearing and heaved a sigh of relief.
Nico had started chuckling at one point and if he weren’t the lovesick puppy he had turned into, he’d truly be offended. However, it was really hard for him not to start laughing himself, so, with one final kiss to his boyfriend’s lips, he pushed himself off of him.
“I really hate you, you know”, he claimed, somehow grinning.
“Ah, you should have seen your face, amore, I swear I saw your cheeks turn burgundy in one second.”
“Funny.”
“That’s why you’re so incredibly fond of me.”
There it was again. That smug look of him, tongue sticking out for a millisecond behind his teeth, his eyes full of mischief.
“No, you got it all wrong, I really loathe you.”
“Oh really?”
“100%.”
“Okay. Then if you truly loathe me, you won’t mind that I won’t show you the sketches I am working on when you’re not here.”
“What?”
“You think I’m joking?”
“If you think you can blackmail me in any way...”
“I can’t?” Another challenge.
“Okay, fine”, he spit back angrily, almost on a level where he knew it was hard to tell he was joking.
It seemed to work, for Nico didn’t say anything. He felt his gaze, but he didn’t dare look. Two can play the game, he thought.
“Maaaarrrrtiiiii...” Nico stretched out his name, rolling the r’s endlessly it seemed.
He pretended he didn’t hear him and started looking for his phone which he remembered was lying somewhere underneath the sheets. When he had found it, he grabbed it, a sigh escaping his lips. It was really hard not to smirk, so he turned his head looking away.
“Really?”, Nico burst out, his voice an octave higher than usual.
He put the earbuds back in and was just about to get back to Giovanni’s videos, when he felt Nico grab his upper arm.
His finger hovered over the play button. “Yes?”
“Turn around.” Nico’s thumb dug into his flesh. “Look at me.”
He complied, putting the earbuds in his lap. Nico’s eyes were fixated on his and he blinked a couple of times so that he could hold his gaze.
“You didn’t mean that, did you?”
He was confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Um, that you loathe me?” His eyes fluttered and there was a crushing nervousness in his voice Martino absolutely hated hearing.
“WHAT? Why would I mean that? Are you stupid?” He searched Nico's eyes. He seemed to be dead serious and he felt like an idiot.
“Ni, I swear, I was joking. I’m... I’m sorry if it came off−“
He didn’t get to say more. Nico pulled him up by the collar of his pyjamas shirt and kissed him on the lips. Hard and frantic. Hitting his teeth in the process.
“Ouch”, he chuckled into his mouth.
“I love you, Marti. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Hey now... hey.” He took his head into his hands and pressed his forehead to Nico’s whose hands had fallen on his shoulder, gripping the shirt there.
I love you, too. It’s okay.
“I overwhelm you, I always do that.”
“Please cut the always, will you.”
“But it’s true, isn’t it?”
“No. I promise you, you don’t. Sometimes I am overwhelmed that this is real. Sometimes I can’t believe it, you know, that we’re together?”
“No?”
“You’re amazing.” He took one of Nico’s hands and gave it a little squeeze while he kept their foreheads connected. “You amaze me every single day.” He half-whispered the last sentence and tried to lift his chin up, but Nico was shaking his head no. No eye contact for now, okay, Marti knew that much. And so he snuggled his nose against his neck, kissing the spot of skin with caution right afterwards. He repeated the action until Nico spoke, his voice in a mist of shame.
“I’m sorry I’m impulsive.”
“I’m not.”
“I’m sorry I’m so needy.”
“I’m not, really.”
“I love you.”
He started to tremble at his words. He was about to open his mouth, to say them back, because only a fool would believe him if he claimed he didn't love the boy who was clinging to him. Martino was chanting the words in his mind anyway. Ever since New Year's Eve – if not before that − when Nico had first said them, casually, as if they had slipped from his lips unintentionally. But Marti knew Nico had been sincere, just as he was in this very moment.
Now, if he could only say them back.
His heart exploded, because he felt so incredibly blessed and cherished and loved and there wasn’t anything to fear, and yet, he feared to say them. Those three little words. It was the most absurd thing he’d ever experienced. Here he was, holding his boyfriend, embracing him like the treasure he was, and yet, he couldn’t say them back. He truly was a walking contradiction. Nico moved him in every way a person could be moved. He should say something, he knew that. In fact, he should have said something a while ago. He could tell him right now that he loved him. It was neither a lie, nor a bad time. It could even soothe Nico's tension, if he thought about it. Still, shouldn't he say something so significant with nothing but joy between them? He felt a knot forming its way up his lungs, and so he buried the mental image and pulled his boyfriend to his chest. As if on cue, Nico started breathing erratically. He, too, didn't seem to get enough air to fill his lungs. Martino cursed himself, this was clearly his fault. Open your damn mouth. "It's okay, Ni, it's okay. I'm here." "I'm sorry, Marti." "Shh, shh, everything's alright. It's not your fault." Don't be sad, please don't be sad. It's okay. He losened their embrace and started to draw soothing circles on his Nico’s back and planted kisses - as tender as he could - on his hair where it met his earlobe. It took a while until he felt him relax, his head on his shoulder as if he had just ran a marathon and needed someone to support some of his weight. “A nap? Before you have to go?” Nico whispered into the crook of his neck, his breath tickling and making his flesh crawl at the same time.
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
They settled down in the middle of the bed. Nico was already captured in a sleepy trance, but he still held enough force to pull him down to his upper body, enveloping his arm around his back. Martino partly nestled down on his chest and partly on his shoulder, belly down, and face towards Nico’s middle.
I love you.
Nico's lips brushed his forehead. He shivered at that and moved his hand over the jumper until he felt his heart beating.
I’m sorry.
Some time later Nico found his hand and Marti entwined their fingers. He moved his thumb over his knuckles, trying to soothe him, or maybe he was trying to soothe himself. It didn’t take long and he felt his boyfriend puffing air into his hair.
Ten.
Nine.
Eight.
Seven.
Six...
It calmed him down listening to Nico breathing, and feeling him under him steadied him. Grounded him, yes.
He was so damn lucky, he thought, shedding a tear at the very thought, feeling relieved that Nico wouldn’t have to worry about that as well. God, Martino hoped he knew how much he wanted to be with him at any giving time. The shame he felt over not being able to tell Nico how much he meant to him made him feel small. What a fool he was.
At one point, Martino started repeating his affection towards him like a mantra. In his mind, but he could have sworn that he heard himself whisper his confession into the silence of the black-haired treasure's room he was holding on to.
I love you so very much.
The approaching evening light was creeping into the room now, absorbing the yellow aura which was one of the many things about these four walls he loved.
He reminded himself that, however dark this room might get, the warmest colour was lying in his arms, and that he needed to be brave to make it stay that way. He justthis ineeded to be brave. I do, I truly do. ☆.。.:*・° 
When you move I'm put to mind of all that I wanna be When you move I could never define all that you are to me So move me, baby Hozier - Movement
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