IT’S JUST A MINOR THING, AND I’M A MINOR KING

It’s so hot Timmy feels the need to lose his t-shirt the very moment they arrive at the campsite, and he carelessly does it, deliberately ignoring the prying looks that instantly fix upon him from each corner of the clearing when he does. He inhales the fresh and intense smell of the pines surrounding the place deeply, filling his lungs with such a clear air as he can never breathe in back home, and then exhales with a satisfied smile on his lips.

He opens his eyes and he finds Alex looking at him with an amused smirk on his face, his arms folded loosely under his chest as he slowly taps his foot on the ground. “Seriously?” he says.

Timmy chuckles, passing a hand through his hair. He arrived in Italy not more than a couple weeks ago and his hair are starting to grow already. He always has them short when he arrives, and he always makes so that, when he goes back to Lima at the end of his holidays, he has them long enough to make Leo throw his arms up in disgust screaming they’re gonna have to mow him like the fucking lawn.

“What?” he says, “Did I do something wrong?”

“You just undressed,” Alex points out, “And then started showing off like a bodybuilder at a muscle contest.”

“I did no such thing!” Timmy laughs, picking his t-shirt up from the ground and throwing it at Alex after having cramped it in a ball that his boyfriend swiftly avoids by moving to the left in a graceful, soundless movement.

“You kinda did,” Neri says, coming along with the huge bag containing the tent, “Everybody’s staring, now. Plus, I don’t want my little brothers to grow up having unrealistic ideas about men bodies, so please, cover up before you give them a complex.”

Said little brothers basically threw themselves out of the trailer the moment Neri’s father parked it in their lot nearby, and are now climbing a tree with the clear intent of throwing themselves to the branches of the one next to it the moment they reach the top, and don’t seem really concerned with his nakedness, his muscles, his body or any related complex at all. But Timmy knows the one who’s really bothered by it is Neri himself, so he retrieves his t-shirt and puts it back on, even if it’s hot and he’s certainly going to sweat the moment they start putting the tent up.

Neri is Alex’s best friend, they’ve been knowing each other since they were criminally little and their bond was strong enough to survive attending different high schools and living so distant from one another they usually need to catch two buses and a train if they want to hang out at each other’s house. Despite being so different, Alex being the professional, committed artist and Neri being the practical madman who keeps changing hobbies as often as he changes his underwear, they’re ridiculously close, metaphorically joint at the hip. Timmy knew all of him before he even got to meet him, because Alex had spent the majority of his first summer there filling his head with notions about Neri in preparation of the event, and he was pretty sure he’d have grown jealous of him to the point of hating him for that special bond connecting them, but he found out the moment he actually came to know him it was impossible to get jealous of such a bond, because it was so firmly channeled on the friendship track it was preposterous to even think about being worried by it. Alex’s absolute and totalizing friendship with Neri could coexist pretty easily with another relationship as deep and demanding, and Timmy and Neri found themselves getting along pretty well right from the start, being Neri the simple, easy-going kid that he is and being Timmy a fairly understanding guy on his own.

Besides, Neri’s got the greatest family. Like, for real. His father is the most awesome thing ever. The man has the kindest heart, and Timmy loves him to shreds, even if most of the time they can’t communicate if not by vague gestures, given he wouldn’t know an English word from a Sumerian one for his life. It doesn’t matter: Timmy firmly believes they’re connected in a deeper way, the silent mutual understanding of the real men who know you’ve gotta learn how to dress in pink and sip fake tea from flowery purple tiny plastic cups if your kids ask you to, or you can’t in any way be the real man you claim to be. And this is something Neri’s father has had to learn how to do pretty fast after he was left on his own by his wife shortly after she delivered the twins.

Twins which are the most amazing things, really. Lapo, Jacopo and Vieri. Timmy couldn’t tell one from the other for his life, he couldn’t speak their names correctly if he had to choose between that and being blown up to pieces of the spot, but he loves them, ‘cause they’re batshit crazy. Being brought up by a single father soft and caring as Neri’s father is, they’re growing up as reckless as little kids can be, they’re basically one step away from being tiny savages. Every time they see Timmy, they assault him and try to put him down like Lilliputians did with Gulliver. They made a proper game out of it, the goal of which is to render him incapable of moving just long enough to really believe they managed to subdue him, before he finally sets himself free from the restraints they put on him and starts chasing them around growling like Godzilla while Neri sighs deeply and shakes his head, putting his headphones back on, and Alex laughs softly, curling on the couch and looking longingly at him, sipping at the ice tea Neri’s father’s serving him with the sweetest smile curling his thin lips upwards.

Oh, Timmy would pay for an eternity like this. Playing with somebody else’s kids while Alex stares at him knowing soon they’ll be home and they’ll be alone and ready to take care of one another after having had fun like idiots for the rest of the day. Timmy’s very idea of paradise.

“Oh ragazzini,” Neri’s father says, snapping his fingers at them as he sets the trailer down so it cannot move, “Che si dorme? La tenda.”

Neri puts the bag down and pulls the zipper open, starting to take out everything they need. “He’s saying we should put up the tent,” he translates, as Timmy watches his father walk up to the tree from which the kids are hanging like oversized fruits, holding to the branches with their tiny, chubby hands.

“Oh bestioline! Venite giù!”

Timmy has no idea what he’s saying, but the way he speaks makes him smile wholeheartedly. He loves Italian, it’s one of the very few redeeming qualities of Italy. He can’t understand a word of it (Alex tried to teach him something, but Timmy’s not really talented for foreign languages and he needs relevant rewards to keep himself focused; said relevant rewards, though, coming from Alex tend to be even more distracting than they should, so they gave it up. He managed to pick up a few curses, though, and he’s very proud of that: he can go on for entire sentences if he sets to use all of them), but he loves the sound, and that’s usually enough.

They set the tent up in less than ten minutes. They’re all used to take care of such things, Alex having gone camping with Neri’s family since he can remember anything at all, Neri being used to go on such holidays since before he could crawl, Timmy having picked it up by camping out in the garden of their own home to look at the stars with his father since he was tiny as an oversized bean.

Timmy’s glad to be here, he’s glad to be spending the holidays with not only Alex but people Alex cares for and he likes himself. The only thing he isn’t exactly ecstatic about is having to share the tent with Neri too.

Alex and Neri always share the tent when they’re camping together, since the trailer is already full with Neri’s father and the twins. When Timmy decided to tag along the moment Vince told him he could do less of him at the farm for a couple of weeks, Alex made sure he understood clearly that wouldn’t have changed. He had to adapt.

He decided not to complain out loud and up to now he hasn’t really thought much about it, but the reality of it strikes him the moment he sees they’re only inflating one air bed.

It’s not sharing the bed in three per se that’s bothering him, it’s that this means Alex and him will never be alone at night, not for the next couple weeks, anyway. At some point they’ll be back to Alex’s parents’ home, and they’ll go back to sharing a bedroom (and occasionally a bed too) just the two of them, and then they’ll be alone, and they will be able to cuddle and kiss and make out and Timmy will be able to fuck Alex stupid for hours and hours until they both collapse in exhaustion.

But not yet, not now. Not for the next fifteen days anyway.

Such a thing never sits well with him. It all started when he came back to Florence last year, after one of their usual off periods, this one having lasted for an unlikely and never experienced before period of almost six months. The break-up had been bad as none of them had expected it would be, and they both had felt the need to put some distance between them for the months that had followed, but the result of that had been that, while Timmy was busy running back to Tana as he usually did in such situations, for the first time Alex had wandered off too. And his wanderings had taken him to Sasha.

Sasha the Devil. Evil, evil Sasha.

Timmy hates Sasha. He hates him probably because he knows perfectly well he’d have fallen for him almost as hard as Alex did when they met, possibly even more, ‘cause Sasha’s the kind of charmer everybody falls at the feet off. Tan, fit, fun, hip, constantly smiling, ass like a Levi’s model, the kind of attitude that makes you ready to do impossible things just to see him flash that perfectly white smile right back at you. Of course Alex followed him around for weeks, of course he followed him around on the first night they met, of course he followed him when Sasha suggested a quickie in the men’s restroom at the club right before they left for his place, where he probably proceeded to pound him again and again until Alex couldn’t take it no more – but still wanted it nonetheless.

Well at least that’s what Timmy thinks happened. He knows they had a quickie at the club ‘cause Alex confessed. He also knows they spent the night together, ‘cause Alex admitted that too. The details were never told to him, and he wants to know them as much as he dreads the thought of truly knowing them, so he has never really asked, out of pure, sheer fear.

Still. What he knows is enough.

And he lives with it, like, most of the time he manages to go on with his life without constantly thinking that after years and years of circling him, after years and years of trying (and trying) (and trying), and waiting for him to be ready, for his body to stretch enough to welcome his inside, he wasn’t the one taking Alex’s virginity.

(He wasn’t. Doesn’t matter how many times Alex can actually repeat they did have sex before he slept with Sasha, that it was sex to him, that they did all they could possibly do without getting to the actual penetration, that they came, and so it was sex, it was full and proper sex for him, it wasn’t proper sex for Timmy, it wasn’t all the way, and it didn’t count as such.)

To live with it, though, he needs to remind himself often that no matter who took him first, he’s the one who can take him every time he wants. Which basically means whenever Timmy’s in Italy (also, actually when he’s not too: Skype helps with that) he must have sex with Alex every day. And it must be the whole thing. Jerking off together and considering it sex is not allowed. It is unacceptable.

And right now Timmy doesn’t even know if he’s gonna have at least that.

“You’re moody and disappointed,” Alex says, stopping behind him and wrapping his arms around his neck to hug him, “You’re thinking about all the sex we’re not gonna have.”

“Shut up and stop reading me,” Timmy whines, closing his hands around Alex’s forearms and bending forward a little to suggest him to climb on his back. Alex promptly does it, clinging to him like a monkey right away, his long, long legs firmly wrapped around his hips as he settles comfortably on him and leaves a kiss under his ear to tell him he’s done, “It’s creepy.”

“I see how creeped out you are about it,” Alex chuckles, clinging to him as Timmy starts to move. “Where are you taking me?”

“I don’t know,” Timmy pouts, “Away from the tent. Where we can be alone.”

“We can be alone in the tent,” Alex chuckles again, “Neri’s gone to the pool with the twins.” He leans in, whispering in Timmy’s ear. “We could have some fun while he’s away.”

“Ew,” Timmy makes a face, stubbornly shaking his head, “Not in there. We’ve gotta sleep with him in there, I’m not gonna mess around on that bed.”

Alex laughs out loud. “He wouldn’t even notice!” he says.

“I would notice!” Timmy protests, “Because I would know!”

“Technically,” Alex muses, tilting his head in a pensive way, “One can’t notice what he already knows. Either he notices something, or he knows it, ‘cause you can’t notice something, really, if you already know it’s there. You just know.”

“I don’t care,” Timmy mutters, “My point still stands.”

“So,” Alex goes on, taking a look around, “You’re dragging me to the woods where you’ll have your way with me and then kill me and bury my body so that no one ever knows what you did?”

Timmy groans loudly, letting go of Alex’s legs and putting him down on the ground. “Whatever!” he says, “I don’t feel like it anymore.”

“I suppose I should be glad you don’t feel like killing me and burying my corpse anymore,” Alex giggles at first, but when he realizes Timmy’s frowning and not playing along as he’d expect him to, he frowns too, and finally understands there’s something off. “Hey…” he tries, “Are you angry at me?”

“I’m not,” Timmy instantly answers. He always instantly answers that. It’s an automatic reaction. Whenever Alex asks him if he’s mad at him, Timmy always denies. No matter if he is actually angry at him. And that’s because deep down inside he knows he’s got no right being angry at him for something like that. So not only he feels ashamed about it, but he genuinely fears Alex’s reaction whenever he catches wind of him feeling that way.

(That’s because Alex never shies away from conflict, on the contrary. If Timmy comes at him too hard, he usually responds even harder, being it verbally or physically. He’s like a rabid squirrel, still cute but also potentially lethal. Well at least if you’re a squirrel too.)

“Except you clearly are,” Alex insists, frowning more deeply and crossing his arms over his chest, “What’s your problem?”

“Obviously,” Timmy frowns too, annoyed at his attitude, at that crossing of his arms over his chest that basically means: we’re done, we’re not talking anymore, we’re fighting, now, “It’s gotta be my problem. It’s never something you might have done.”

“Why,” Alex arches an eyebrow, talking in a detached, distant way, “Is it something I’ve done?”

“That’s beyond the point,” Timmy groans, “I was just saying. Generally speaking.”

“I don’t give a fuck about matters of principle,” Alex answers snarkily, “I wanna know if I did something to upset you. Because I’m almost certain this is just you being upset at something ridiculous as it often happens, and I wanna hear it from you.”

“I was just thinking about Sasha, okay?!”

“Oh, God,” Alex covers his face with his hand, “You can’t be serious.”

“Don’t mock me.”

“You only deserve to be mocked!”

“Thank you,” Timmy recoils as if Alex had threatened him with a fiery stick, “Always nice to know you mock the things that make me feel bad.”

“You don’t feel bad, you’re just an idiot! A stubborn, ridiculous idiot, who likes to torture himself over details of no importance whatsoever!”

“It is important to me.”

“And it is offensive to me,” Alex says, darting a flaming glare at him, “I told you a thousand times. This is my first time we’re talking about. Only I can decide which one got it. And I told you it’s you. I told you a thousand times. But you refuse to listen. You just don’t care. So,” he finishes, clutching his hands in fists down his sides, “I might as well just stop talking already.”

Timmy doesn’t see it coming until it’s too late to stop it, but when he sees Alex turn around and leave he realizes he should’ve known better. Isn’t this the very reason why he had decided to keep it quite right from the start, not to complain about sharing the tent with Neri, pretend everything was alright and he wasn’t bothered by it at all?

“Hey,” Neri walks towards him, his eyes following Alex as he walks away. The twins are running after one another just behind their brother, but when they see Neri’s gravitating around Timmy they decide they wanna be satellites too, and start running in circles around him, playing the little Indians, letting out war cries and preparing to assault him. “What happened?”

Timmy sighs, passing a hand through his hair. “He stopped talking to me,” he answers tiredly.

“What?” Neri asks, blinking confusedly, “Like, forever?”

“Likely,” Timmy answers with another sigh.

Neri decides it’s better not to inquire any further, and just follows Alex down the path he disappeared through a few seconds ago.

The twins, instead, finally decide it’s time to attack.

*
There’s nothing worse than Alex when he’s angry. Timmy himself turns into quite an harpy when he’s furious, he becomes mean, aggressive, ruthless in using his opponent’s weakness against him with no shame whatsoever nor apology afterwards (truth be told, he rarely fights except with Alex and Leo: when he’s fighting with Alex, Alex is usually always right, so Timmy rarely finds any ground to become a pitiless punisher, and therefore he never needs to apologize for having been an horrible human being during a fight; when he’s fighting with Leo, though, Leo is mostly wrong, so Timmy feels entitled to metaphorically hit him with an emotional hammer right where it hurts every single time, therefore making any kind of apology unnecessary), but his fury is nothing compared to Alex’s coldness, the way he becomes an entire different person when he’s angry at you, the way he always manages to let his anger weigh on the person he’s fighting with, so that they can never forget they’re being shunned.

Alex never truly stops talking to you, never really avoids you. On the contrary, he makes sure you know he sees you very well. And gives exactly no fucks about you being there.

Timmy cannot imagine any worse punishment, especially after having lived more than half his life almost exclusively off Alex’s attentions. He still remembers himself as a seven year old meeting this chubby two year old boy for the first time, and instantly deciding he wanted to have those huge baby blue eyes fully locked on himself for as long as he was to spend time in his house.

That basically never changed. It just evolved with time. Gotten worse, some would say. Timmy wouldn’t know: his irrational thirst for Alex’s attention never seems to be a problem until suddenly it becomes one when he’s deprived of it.

He watches him all day long carry on as if he was nothing more than some sort of pretty annoying and quite unlikeable distant cousin, and every minute of it is hell. They spend almost half of the day at the pool while Neri’s father finishes to set up camp on their lot, and after lunch Alex stands up and asks Neri if he’d like to go for a walk in the wilderness just outside the camping perimeter. As always, Neri says yes right away, and Timmy, who’s busy trying to balance two twins on his bended knees while the third tries to climb on his brothers’ shoulders to form a pyramid, sits up so suddenly all three of them roll down his legs as if they were rolling down a hill, laughing like crazy.

“Can’t I come too?” he asks desperately, knowing perfectly well if he loses sight of Alex now he won’t see him again until night.

Alex tilts his head, pretending to be thinking about it. “I don’t know,” he says, “Someone’s got to stay with the twins, don’t you think?”

“I— I can walk them back to the trailer,” he insists, standing up while the twins gather around him and whines loudly, complaining that they don’t want to go back to the trailer, they want to keep playing with him, “It’s gonna take me five minutes top, if you just wait for me…”

“Nah, I wanna go now,” Alex interrupts him, shrugging carelessly, “We’ll start walking. Just come find us when you’re done.”

“But— I don’t know which path you’re taking,” he points out uncertainly.

Alex grins. “Yeah, you don’t, right?” he says. Then he turns to look at Neri, who’s been standing awkwardly next to him without saying a word up to now, always feeling a bit uncomfortable, a bit out of place when they fight in front of him. “Andiamo,” he says.

The fact that he’s talking in Italian gives Timmy all the confirmation he didn’t need anyway to know he’s not welcome to join them at all. There’s no point to even try: even if he did manage to run to campsite and back in five, even if he managed to somehow find them on the path they’ve chosen for their walk, Alex would find another excuse, something different to push him away, and even if he didn’t find any he’d still be keeping him at a distance, showering him in fake, cold smiles as he only speaks with him when he’s forced to out of politeness, and ignoring him for the rest of the time.

He sits back down on his towel, and soon enough the twins are surrounding him again. He forces a smile up to his own lips and spends the rest of the afternoon playing with them.

*
When he walks back to the campsite, carrying two twins asleep in his arms and the other, barely awake, over his shoulders, with his tiny arms clutched around his forehead, the sun is already setting. Neri’s father’s already lighting the fire, and though the flame is still very tiny and would require some tending to, when he sees him arrive covered in children he hastens to walk towards him and free him from the little boy sitting on his shoulders, one second before said boys finally falls asleep, collapsing in his father’s arms.

“Will they be alright?” he asks, “Isn’t it a little early to go to bed? They haven’t even eaten yet.”

Neri’s father casts him a puzzled look. Of course he got nothing of what he just said. Timmy sighs, having no idea what to do to translate what he just said in a language this man could understand. But it doesn’t matter: Neri’s father smiles and gestures him to come along, and together they put the twins to bed, meaning it’s okay if they sleep now, after all. They’ll eat when they wake up, whenever that might be, and Timmy got his answer without really needed to ask.

Afterwards, they sit together around the fire. They wait for Neri and Alex to come back, but they don’t. Neri’s father calls his son, at some point. They talk a while over the phone, Timmy has no idea what it is they’re saying. When the phone call’s over, Neri’s father turns to look at him and just stares at him for a few seconds. Timmy knows he’s searching for whatever way to explain to him what Neri said, but he’s clearly at a loss, and in the end he simply shrugs and shakes his head. That could mean an enormous variety of things, and Timmy’s too tired to inquire any further and throw himself in an endless at the same time bilingual and one-sided conversation that’d just be uncomfortable and fruitless for them both.

They eat a couple sandwiches together, then they share some fruit. If Alex was there, after dinner he and Timmy would probably go out to explore the woods, or try and see if there’s some club they can go to dance a while, inside or outside the camping, but Alex isn’t there, who knows when he’s gonna be back, and who knows if he’s going to want to spend time with Timmy once he is, let alone dancing, so, around ten, given that the twins are still sleeping peacefully and Neri’s father seems very much inclined to follow their wise example in but a few minutes, Timmy says bye and walks to the tent.

He’s surprised to see the lamp inside has been turned on while he was away.

He approaches suspiciously, crouching in front of it and carefully crawling inside, and he stops, his heart beating faster and quickly climbing up his throat in excitement, when he sees there’s only Alex inside.

“You’re back,” he says, as if he had been away for months.

Alex casts an icy look at him as he sits on the mattress and pushes his trousers down those endless legs of his, to change for the night. “Yeah,” he answers.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Timmy asks, crawling towards him and then kneeling by his side, looking at him intently, as if he was scared he might disappear if he stopped doing so.

“I just arrived,” Alex shrugs, putting his shorts on and turning around to retrieve a tank top from the bottom of his bag, “And anyway I wasn’t planning to come back so early. I was hoping your farmer’s biological clock would’ve had you already asleep when I was back, so we wouldn’t have to talk. But since Neri decided he wanted to spend the night eating some girl’s face by the poolside…” he clicks his tongue in disgust, “I was at least hoping I would be already asleep by the time you came here.”

“Please…” Timmy whines, “Stop being so angry at me. I did nothing wrong.”

“Yeah?” Alex groans, wearing his tank top and then lying down on the mattress, grabbing the pile blanket at the feet of the bed to cover himself, “Keep believing that.”

“Stop,” Timmy says, closing his fingers around Alex’s wrist.

Alex turns to look at him, his fingers still clutched around the blanket. “Let me go,” he says, “I’m cold.”

“Don’t fall asleep, yet,” Timmy pleads, but he doesn’t let him go, “Let’s talk.”

“I told you I don’t feel like talking. Maybe tomorrow.”

“No, please…” Timmy whines again. He lies down next to him, wrapping his arms around his waist. “Come on.”

“Let me go right away!” Alex hisses, trying to free himself from his hold. As an answer to that, Timmy just holds him tighter, pressing his face between his shoulder blades, left naked by his tank top. Alex tries to free himself for a few seconds more, but in the end he relaxes, sighing deeply and resting his hands on Timmy’s forearms. “Will you ever stop being such an idiot?” he asks in a low, kind of sad, vaguely sweet voice.

“That’s not the most important question,” Timmy answers, rubbing his nose up and down Alex’s spine.

“Yeah?” Alex lets out a small shaky breath, pushing himself back against him, “Then what?”

“Will you want to be with me even if I keep being such an idiot for the rest of my life?”

Alex chuckles softly, shaking his head with resignation. “You’re unbelievable…” he whispers, turning around in Timmy’s embrace.

Timmy lets him move, and by the time Alex’s done doing that he’s already smiling, ready to press their lips together in a soft kiss.

“So?” Alex asks then, his hands moving up along Timmy’s arms and then resting on his shoulders, “How did you spend the afternoon?”

“Pining after you,” Timmy answers honestly, kissing him again, “And playing with the twins. I love them, they’re amazing. They’re completely fucked up. Totally crazy, I’m telling you. I will be surprised if they survive past their fifteenth birthday.”

“Don’t say that!” Alex laughs, hitting him lightly on his nape.

“I’m serious, they actually tried to climb a tree nearby the pool, today, because they wanted to dive in the water from its branches,” he says. Then he pauses a little, before adding “The tree was a good ten feet away from the pool.”

Alex laughs again, hiding his face against Timmy’s chest. “I will talk about it with Folco, tomorrow,” he says, “He needs to know his baby sons have a death wish.”

“Yeah, please, do it,” Timmy sighs, “I wouldn’t even know how to introduce the topic. Even if I knew the language, I mean.”

“Which you don’t,” Alex chuckles.

“Which I don’t,” Timmy echoes, smiling softly.

Alex must feel the change in his voice, because he looks up and his baby blue eyes shine in the dim light of the lamp as he leans in for a kiss. “You’re forgiven,” he whispers on Timmy’s lips before kissing him again, “Even though you didn’t say you were sorry.”

“I can’t apologize for something I don’t feel guilty about,” Timmy says as he draws him closer and kisses him deeply.

“Shut up,” Alex whines, slipping his knee between Timmy’s legs, “Don’t ruin it.”

“Oh, no, no,” Timmy backs away instantly, shaking his head, “I told you. I’m not doing shit in here. Uh-uh, not an option.”

“God Almighty,” Alex snorts, turning his back at him as he finally manages to pull the pile blanket up to his shoulders, “You’re so annoying, really. You better stop being an idiot right now, because I can’t stand the thought of having to spend two weeks with you if you behave like this.”

Timmy laughs, hugging him again and placing a tiny kiss on his naked shoulder. “Can I hold you through the night?” he asks on his skin, rubbing the tip of his nose against it.

“Whatever,” Alex answers, shrugging lightly, “Do what you want.”

But he entangles their legs underneath the blanket, and holds onto his forearms, making it impossible for Timmy to move away, even if he wanted to.

That’s how Timmy knows the answer to his questions. Even the most important one.