Somewhere within the next hour, I had fallen asleep. But my head snapped up when my phone buzzed loudly against the counter. I squinted at the screen, trying to rub the sleep from my eyes. An electric bolt went through my body when I saw Luca's text.

LUCA MORETTI, #9 STRIKER, MILAN: hey, you up?

Before I could respond, he texted me again with a location pin. I opened it, narrowing my eyes and zooming in to try to gauge the location.

Manchester.

I zoomed in further.

He was on my street.

Right outside the mansion.

I shot to my feet, almost falling over as I ran through the wreckage of the depressing party to the front door. My heart hammered so hard my fingers barely worked, struggling to put in the digital code and swing the door open.

My world spun in and out of focus when I saw him.

"Hey," he said, with no hint of his usual smile. "I—" he gulped, "Happy birthday, Eli."

"Luca... how?" I shook my buzzing head, trying to clear it as the overwhelming warmth in my chest made it too hard to speak. I grabbed his sleeve and pulled him in, shutting the door behind us. "Hello," I said breathlessly.

"Hey," he repeated, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His eyes darted around the living room behind me before landing back on me. "I am guessing I missed the party."

I gulped. "It was terrible."

He chuckled, cupping my face. "Sorry to hear that."

He did not seem sorry to hear that, the smile still tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Come inside—" I said, even though he was already inside. Now that he was here, I did not know what to do with myself, and I suddenly realized why Redford, Buford, and Wally ran around in circles anytime I came home.

I led him up the staircase, pulling him along by his sleeve. Once inside my bedroom, I shut the door behind us and turned to face him.

"Hello," I said again, finally noticing he had a decorative, pink paper bag in his hands, with some blue flowers peeking out. His eyes were sunken; he had not rested well. He wore the brown leather jacket that matched the colour of his eyes, his hair the familiar unruly mess.

"You said that already." He smiled before handing the bag to me. "I got you something."

"You didn't have to," I clicked my tongue, already repeating the appropriate phrases in my head that I should say when I see his gifts.

Thank you, this is wonderful.

Oh my god, just what I needed.

Thank you, I will use this a lot.

Or my mum's most reliable: Thank you, this is so thoughtful!

As it turned out, though, I did not have to use any of the rehearsed phrases. Because when I saw his gifts, I was completely dumbfounded.

Hydrangeas.

I remembered at IMAG, standing in front of the portrait of flowers. He hadn't been paying attention. He wasn't supposed to. It was all an elaborate plan. It was deathly boring, I had said it; he had admitted it.

Gratitude for being understood.

They weren't the usual roses, or lilies, or carnations.

He had remembered.

He had known.

Being understood.

A lump formed in my throat as I stared at the beautiful, tiny petals of the hydrangeas, the shades of blue intermingling into each other in a perfect symphony. The faint, earthy scent grounded my senses.

I glanced up at him, and he shook his head, reaching one hand deeper into the paper bag and picking out a small cardboard box, neatly tied with a ribbon. "The flowers are like... a side gift."

He handed the box to me, and I untied the ribbon with shaking fingers. Inside it was a glass dome. A small keychain. Inside the keychain, a paw print that I would recognize anywhere.

About one-third of the plaster mold was grey, the rest pure white, clearly freshly set. The freshly set mold was crudely made; the edges in it were visually perfectly symmetrical with the grey side, but tiny, imperceptible places showed where the tool had seemingly veered off. There was one random raised bump on top of the white side from an air bubble that never left.

Woofie's paw print.

The keychain Luca had broken years ago. The pieces he had kept. The other pieces he had fashioned himself—measuring every line, recreating the missing geometry by hand.

My vision swam with tears, the lump finally reaching the back of my throat as I let out a sob. My shoulders shook before I could control myself, and finally, looking up at him, I let the tears fall.

I wanted to thank him. I wanted to hug him. I wanted to tell him that between the millions of dollars of cars and mansions, no one had ever gifted me something so beautiful. So soul-crushingly agonizing and wonderfully euphoric. Something that was so... personal. Just for me. Not a car anyone could admire and see. Not designer clothes that the media could paste in their articles. It was just a small keychain. Just for me.

I couldn't speak.

Luca said something. My name. I could tell from the way he enunciated. He placed a hand under my chin, stroking with his thumb.

I threw my arms around him, burying my face in his chest as the tears fell incessantly, the keychain suspended between my fingers, the bouquet of hydrangeas held in my fist. His arms came around me instantly as he pulled me closer, kissing the top of my head and rubbing my back. I needed him to know how much it meant to me. The fact that he was even here—let alone giving me the best gift anyone had ever given me. I hadn't even thanked him yet. I needed to thank him. But I couldn't see. I couldn't let him go. He was so warm and solid and patient with me, always.

He held me for a long time; I wasn't sure how long. Finally, I leaned back, wiping my face with the back of my sleeves.

He cupped my face in his hands, tilting my chin to look up at him, his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes dark pits. "Are you okay?"

I gave a breathless giggle. Okay? He was here. He had given me the best thing anyone ever had. He had remembered. I had never been better. He was here.

I nodded at him, placing the keychain in my bedside drawer carefully, putting the hydrangeas on the table and making a mental note to get a vase befitting them tomorrow. I turned to him and stretched a hand out for him to take. He closed the distance between us in two long strides, grabbing my hand in his and squeezing it gently.

"Thank you, Luca," I said finally. "This was... the best gift I have ever received."

He smiled softly then, leaning in to kiss me. I melted into his kiss, the touch breaking a dam I had been holding back for so long. All the doubts. All the hours I had spent yearning for his touch, culminating in the kiss.

"Luca..." I whispered against his mouth. I wouldn't have dared to say anything if I weren't deathly afraid of losing him. I had never believed in heaven until I had him, and I had never believed in hell till I thought I lost him.

"Luca..." I whispered again, my voice breaking. "I... I need you. Now. Please."

He stroked a thumb on my face, lifting my chin to look at him again. "Elliot—" he began, "You—"

"Please," I whispered. "Fuck me. Make me forget everything. Everything except you."

He gulped visibly, his breath ragged, his eyes darkening as he gazed at me. "You're gonna kill me," he declared, and I wasn't sure why he thought I would ever hurt him. Like I could ever hurt him. Like I wouldn't throw myself in front of a bullet if it meant saving him. Like I wouldn't give up the world if it meant I could have him.

"Don't... don't be gentle with me tonight, please," I murmured against his neck as I planted soft kisses, sucking slowly on the ink on his neck. "Please. Fuck me hard."

He pushed me back gently, one of his hands coming to rest against my throat. "Yes," I nodded. "Choke me."

He smirked, pushing me until my back hit the wall with a dull thud, his hand tightening around my neck as I threw my head back, my vision hazy from sheer lust. He leaned in, biting down hard on the flesh at the base of my throat, his voice vibrating against my entire body. My knees were already weak under me.

He leaned back, his face flushed, his lips swollen and glistening as he rasped, "Beg for me."

"Please—" I moaned instantly. "Please."

"Please what?" he smirked, one of his hands coming to rest behind my head, his fingers entangling in my hair.

"You..." I gasped.

"Not enough." He tilted his head, tightening his grip on my hair. "Beg harder."

"Please—" I whined, "Please, I need your cock."

He let out a soft moan, his tongue snaking out to lick my bottom lip before he spoke so I could see his face. "Good boy."

Hot, searing fire burst in the pit of my stomach.

"Remember the safe signal?" he asked breathlessly, tapping my pulse on my neck. I nodded.

His chest rumbled as he reached for the hem of my sweater, pulling it off me in one fluid motion. He pushed me onto the mattress, taking off his sweatshirt and discarding it behind him. My breath caught at the hard lines of his torso, the ink on his skin darker under the warm lights, something I didn't think I could ever get used to. The trail of fine hair disappearing into his low-slung pants made me harden instantly.

He was on top of me in an instant, his mouth crushing into mine, all tongue and teeth and ravishing hunger. I moaned into his mouth, pulling him close till our bare chests were flush against each other and I could feel his erratic heartbeat against mine.

His hand fiddled with my jeans button, undoing my zipper and lowering it. "Bed... bedside... drawer—" I gasped into his mouth. Back when I had asked him for this at his apartment, when he had rejected me, leading all my prep to go to waste.

He nodded, understanding instantly just like he did for everything else. He pulled out the bottle of lube, taking my jeans and underwear off and discarding them, his dark eyes flashing when he saw me before he gave a sharp groan.

"Shit," he muttered.

"Hm?" I managed, squirming as I ached for his touch.

"No protection," he said finally. "I forgot. Sorry."

"That's... okay," I gulped as I made a decision, pulling him back on top of me to kiss him. "I'm... I'm clean. Got tested for Euros."

"Oh." He bit his lower lip and nodded. "Me too."

"And... you are not... doing this... with anyone else—" I asked, my words catching in my throat till I was choking them out.

"God, no," he said. "Only you."

"Okay, proceed."

He chuckled. "You sure?"

I nodded.

My brain worked furiously as I watched him. This was a new milestone. Uncharted. Unexplored. Uncatalogued. I would feel his skin, directly. I would feel every inch of him without any separation. It was intimate beyond anything I could have ever imagined.

But it was him. I knew I'd be okay.

I put the slick fluid onto his fingers, prepping me with rough, urgent, expert fingers. He gripped my thighs, spreading them apart as he settled between them. I reached for his jeans, unbuttoning them with shaking fingers, each second without him an eternity in purgatory.

"Inside me, now, please—" I whispered, placing my legs around him, my heels digging into his hips.

"Nowhere else I'd rather be," he said before lining himself up. He lifted my legs on his elbows, pushing me till I was arching my back, my head lolling off the pillows, the large floor-length window with the starry sky floating into my vision. He pressed inside me inch by inch as I moaned out in desperation. Both my hands covered my face till he was buried to the hilt. The stretch made my chest heave, an overwhelming feeling my body was still unused to.

It was different without a condom separating us. I could feel the hot, smooth head of his cock twitching inside me, pushing me open, splitting all my resistance and breaking through it till I craved more.

He lifted my legs onto his shoulders, pushing in deeper as he hovered over me and took my hands off my face. "Look at me. Look at how I fuck you."

I let out a helpless gasp as he started moving, whimpering his name like a prayer.

The new angle made stars erupt at the back of my eyelids, reaching places inside me I didn't know even existed, my whole body seizing up at the overpowering pleasure. He pinned both my hands on top of my head, forcing me to meet his gaze as he thrust deep inside me with rough grunts, sweat dripping down his forehead as he sped up. He was rock hard inside me, stretching me to my very limits, my thighs quivering from the building pleasure embarrassingly fast.

"Are we alone?" he rasped as I let out another loud whimper, barely managing to catch the words.

I bit my lower lip and shook my head, having completely forgotten about the metrics of the situation we were in. I waited for him to kiss me to muffle my screams, or to ask me to keep it down. However, he smirked, leaning over till I was folded in half, my knees touching my chest as he growled, speaking slowly "You want them to know who's rearranging your insides?"

He pulled out completely, burying inside me with one sharp thrust that made me scream.

"My name," he ordered. "Say my fucking name."

"Luca!" I moaned helplessly. "Shit—!"

"Fuck yes, just like that, you take me so perfectly." he didn't slow down, pulling out completely before ramming deep inside me, sending shockwaves right down to my spine, my legs feeling like jelly as he gripped my thighs. "Feel my cock inside you. Feel that?"

"Yes—" I choked out, unable to feel my limbs.

"You're mine, you get that?"

I nodded. "Yours."

"Good boy," he growled, burying his face in the crook of my neck as his hips thrust slow and deep. His teeth bit into my neck again, his tongue snaking out to soothe the tingling pain bursting from my skin.

"Luca..." I managed between his thrusts. "My... my mum."

He froze, his shoulders shaking as he chuckled darkly. "What?" he laughed, the sound muffled as he buried his mouth in the crook of his arm.

"No... she's... she's here..." I clicked my tongue. "I can't... be too loud."

"It might be a little too late for that, baby," he smirked. He pulled my lower lip between his teeth, biting it hard. He straightened back up, shoving two fingers into my mouth. "Suck, hard. Make it wet for me."

I nodded, sucking on his fingers as his pace increased, the burning on my legs making my entire body go limp. "God... Luca—" I whispered, my voice muffled against his fingers. "Fuck... I'm close."

"Yeah, me too—" he grunted, his chest heaving with the effort, a furious red flush climbing up his neck. He straightened up again, on his knees, gripping my calves on either side of his shoulders as he moved. "Look at me when you come."

The heat in the room turned sweltering, each muscle in my body taut with tension, each cell of my useless brain bursting into sparks as my entire body spasmed, my legs shaking violently as I came hard, spilling hot and heavy between us. My head fell helplessly against the pillow, the stars in my vision brightening impossibly till they exploded in supernovas of ecstasy. My toes curled around either side of his head, my entire body burning with searing heat.

His grunts turned into desperate whimpers till he stilled, and I looked at him, holding his spasming hips flush against mine. His curls fell untamed across his forehead, some of the strands sticking to his forehead from the sweat. The muscles on his stomach flexed as he spilled deep inside me with a guttural groan, his eyes fluttering shut, his head thrown back.

His chest heaved as his eyes finally met mine. "Wow," he smirked, raking a hand through his hair. "My soul left my body."

I let out a giggle as he collapsed on top of me, his mouth immediately on mine as we kissed—filthy, clumsy, and needy.

"That was... the best thing. Ever," he said, propping himself up on his elbow.

"Let's... let's do that again," I said to him, leaning in to kiss him and suck on his tongue. He laughed weakly, stroking the top of my head.

"You are trying to kill me, hm?"

I furrowed my eyebrows at him. I was sore all over, the pleasant ache radiating from between my hips throughout my body, my limbs wasted and numb. "Maybe in five minutes?"

He laughed, nuzzling my nose with his. "Ten."

"Seven," I bargained.

He bit on his bottom lip, his shoulders shaking with laughter. "One—"

I let out a yelp, giggling as he pulled me on top of him and placed me on his already hard cock again, and again, and again, till both of us collapsed, weightless, limbless, floating in a shared vacuum of bliss.