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The stars look like little eyes, blinking outside, David thinks, as he looks out of the window. Silent friends, maybe, comforting him from afar.
His very much not silent friends are over at the WG, they are sitting on the floor and playing a videogame. David has lost, incredibly, so he sits on the sofa, only half heartedly following the game.
The boys are screaming, Carlos is elbowing Matteo in the side to make his character lose and Matteo howls like it is a mortal wound. David has to smile a little bit when Jonas rolls his eyes towards him.
There's a Christmas tree in the corner of the livingroom, little and made of plastic and decorated with what could be called anticomformist decorations.
And yet, even though everything fits so well and David feels home in the midsts of his dumb friends and watching his dumb boyfriend losing a video game, still, something isn’t right.
There's a very specific loneliness that comes over David during Christmas time.
He is naturally a person that tends to feel a little lonely, being all of the things that he is usually makes you feel a bit
enstranged from society, but as soon as December starts, that cold month with its short days, then David feels how much he doesnt fit even more acutely.
After all, everyone else, even those that don’t celebrate Christmas, go to be with their family, just as a friendly get together. They go home and their parents scold them because they never call, or they hug them and tell them how proud they are, or they just sit down with them at the table and listen to everything that their newly adult children tell them about their newly adult life without them. Everyone else, except David.
Of course, there’s Laura.
Laura with her big contagious smile, and the lights she hangs up everywhere in their little stuffed flat.
Laura who is Jewish, just like him, and who understand how hurtful it is when nobody thinks about the festivity of your religion in this time of the year.
Laura who tries to prepare everything for Hannukah just like he celebrated it at home.
It’s beautiful with her, even though they have to buy most lf the food because neither of them is a good (or even passable, let’s be honest) cook.
There’s a bakery near Laura’s new work place, though, that does wonderful rugelach, which has made the last few years much nicer.
But still. Even though he laughs so much that it hurts with her, it’s not the same.
He misses his family, as strange as that sounds, and he wishes he could just waltz through the door of home and get hugged by his parents again.
But he can’t.
He isn’t alone, he knows this. But being refused by your own parents still leaves a bitter hurt that doesn’t really go away, ever, David thinks, at least not for him.
“Dude,” Carlos snaps his fingers, and David sees that the boys have tried to get his attention for a while now. “We thought of ordering pizza, any special wishes?”
Matteo leans back on David’s legs, feigning to bite at his knee, “Don’t give him any freedom of choice, he’s worse than Abdi with his sauce hollaindase.”
David gives him a playful kick.
Abdi protests from where he sits, his legs thrown over Carlos’, “Matteo you’re a fake Italian, you have no say in this at all, everyone knows that tzatziki has no place on pizza either.”
Matteo gives him the middle finger.
Jonas laughs, “All right, boys, we all know both of those pizza’s are crimes against humanity. David, man, any contributions?”
Matteo grins at him from the floor, just waiting for him to name some outrageous topping.
David sighs, “I don’t want to get the children riled up, so I’ll just take a Margherita.” He grins at Matteo. “With pineapple.”
Matteo snorts and attacks his leg again, using it to pull himself up and let himself fall in David’s lap, “You absolute fucker.” He says, and kisses him.
David lets him, ignoring the boys’ familiar groaning.
Matteo pulls back and whispers, “Everything okay? You went somewhere else for a moment there.”
David nods. “It’s all fine.”
Everytime he loses himself in his lonely thoughts, his friends loudly make him remember that they’re there and they’re not going anywhere.
*
It is still very early in the morning when David wakes up, the sun is just beginning to rise, tired light shining through the window.
He stays in bed, blinking at the world outside and breathing very slowly. Matteo lays beside him, his hair almost shining silver in the quiet light, his face peaceful and pale.
David looks at him and looks at him and his heart feels a little less alone. He stretches his arms and sits up. He stands and walks over to the door, trying not to make the wood floor creak under his feet.
The whole flat is still asleep. He hears quiet snoring from Hans’ room and has to smile a little.
It is strange, he thinks while going into the livingroom, he knows he is welcome here in the WG and he knows the others consider him a part of their group, but still.
Still, it is unfairly easy to feel like you do not belong.
He stands before the window and breathes over the glass, his face gets covered with fog. It almost feels like it is still too early to exist.
He slowly walks back to Matteo’s room, puts on his clothes, and leans over him.
He gives Matteo’s forehead a kiss and Matteo moves a little, mumbling a weak, “Why are you up?”
David passes his hand through his silvery hair and mumbles back, “I need to go study. I’ll call you later. Go back to sleep now.”
Matteo blinks at him for another second, then sleep takes over and he closes his eyes again. David waits until his breathing is steady, then he stands up, takes his backpack, and leaves.
*
He goes exploring. Everywhere in the city there are Christmas signs and wishes. People frantically shuffle around buying Chrsitmas presents. It makes him feel a bit overwhelmed, but not in a good way.
David pushes through the streets on his bike, feeling the cold wind on his cheeks.
He drives until there are no signs of Christmas in sight anymore, to the outskirts of the city.
He stops before an abandoned building, a set of flats that is slowly falling to pieces.
There’s a big graffiti all over the crumbling walls. David leaves his bike on the side and gets out his sketchbook. He copies the figures of the graffiti in it, for future reference.
Then he takes his flashlight out and ventures inside the building.
There’s dust everywhere, some bottles and other stuff laying in the corners.
Most of the walls have drawings or incisons, graffiti and written words on them. He steps nearer to one, trying not to move up too much dust.
He passes his fingers over the writing someone left here years ago; all things that love are sacred , he reads.
He takes a picture with his phone and wonders who would leave poetry on the wall of an abandoned building. He thanks them with a whisper, though, whoever they are and wherever they are now.
He wanders some more inside the building, with careful steps, his flashlight illuminating everything.
He takes pictures of the plants growing in the cracks, of the random shoe he finds laying around.
After a while, he finds a corner with a half broken window next to it. He looks out of it and sees the roofs and streets of Berlin. In one window, he sees that someone put up a menorah. He smiles.
He sits down, takes out his sketchbook again, and draws.
*
There is a party going on in the WG. People are dancing and chatting and drinking and laughing.
Matteo and David sit on the sofa, they were making out until a minute ago, now Matteo is leaning half his body on David’s, while David passes his fingers slowly through his dusty coloured hair.
David feels quite a bit high, the whole room is coloured by a softened light. It looks like the people are ghosts, surrounded by a golden light. David smiles a little and kisses Matteo’s forehead.
He feels Matteo sigh. “What is it?”, he mumbles into his light strands.
Matteo cuddles a little bit closer, taking a sip of the beer he is holding in his left hand.
“It’s weird,” he mumbles back. He shakes his head a bit, “You know that I don’t like Christmas. Before my father left us, we all used to go together to Italy to my family there. I haven’t heard anything from my cousins or my grandparents in two years. It’s so fucked up.” His voice stops for a moment. “How could he do that to us? All contact is lost. As if all those years never happened.”
David looks at him, Matteo is chewing on his lower lip and staring at their friends. There’s something lost and young in his eyes. “I miss them. I miss being there, the whole atmosphere of it. The food, obviously.” He snorts, David smiles. “But it was just...nice being together. I don’t care about the whole religious part, but it was nice seeing everyone and...it felt warm. Then he left and it was just me and my mum. Suddenly it got very lonely.”
David passes his thumb over Matteo’s arm, trying to show him that he isn’t alone now.
“And then my mum lost it completely and I was alone.” He takes another sip of his beer. “Anyway. It’s weird. How time changes everything. “ He sends David a little grin. “Now I have you.”
David raises his eyebrows, he says “You have me and all your friends,too. And your mother as well.”
Matteo nods. “Yes...yes. That’s true.”
His voice sounds surprised but happy, another light in the room.
David takes his face in his hands and presses another long kiss on his lips.
“Lovebirds! Are you ever going to put some space between you? I came by some minutes ago and you were making out, I pass by again and you’re still stuck together!”
Matteo groans and lets his head drop on David’s shoulder. “Hans, jeez.”
David has to snort. He grins at Hans, “It’s the magic of the Christmas spirit, you see.”
Matteo starts shaking with laughter, “David you’re fucking Jewish.” David shrugs him off his shoulder.
Hans tilts his head to one side, smiling, “ And since when does Christmas make you horny?”
As if he didn’t own a Santa statue with only a glittery speedo on, David thinks, but just limits himself to shrugging again.
Matteo grins at Hans, putting his arms around David, “Ah Hans, you just can’t trust the youth these days, they make everything horny.” Matteo kisses him again, and David lets him, smiling into it.
Hans sighs loudly. “As true as it is that no festivity is safe, butterly, would you please help me with getting the bottles in the kitchen out?”
So Matteo is whisked away to the kitchen, groaning loudly, and David is left alone on the couch.
He takes the moment to sway to the bathroom, feeling quite out of it.
Abdi comes out of the bathroom door, they exchange drunk grins while passing next to each other, then David gets inside and closes the door behind him.
He closes his eyes for a moment, too. The sound of the music is muffled and sounds extremely far away, from another land, another world that the lonely explorer has just left behind.
David opens his eyes again, a relatively normal looking room greets him back. The only decoration in sight is a little Christmas hat someone (Hans) put on the toilet flush.
David snorts and puts his hands on the sink. He washes his face with cold water and feels much more awake. He rises his head and looks himself in the eyes in the mirror.
An almost adult man looks back at him.
How strange, he thinks, reflecting on Matteo’s earlier words, how time changes everything. His eyes look back at him with something in them that appears like a familiar mix of melancholy and happiness.
David knows he can’t get rid of his past. He knows that all the names he has been called won’t stop being heavy on him any time soon, or that his parent’s horrified faces won’t stop appearing in his dreams any time soon.
He knows that he will always feel a little lonely and a little like an outsider and a little like he is faking everything that makes him who he is.
He passes one of his hands over his jaw, it has gotten much more pronounced over the last year, and he feels a little bit of stubble.
He passes his fingers over his Adam’s apple, it wasn’t there two years ago.
He straightens his shoulders, not slumping forwards anymore, and he tries giving himself a small smile.
His tired eyes blink back at him.
It’s strange how time changes everything.
Strange and wonderful.
And yet, he thinks, and yet.
*
There’s an old Arabic book of medicine that says that the human heart is divided into two parts: one is called happiness, the other despair.
A human life oscillates between the two.
More often than not, David feels stuck exactly in the middle.
*
David and Matteo are going for a walk outside, it has just stopped snowing, everything is quiet and soft. A silent world that waits, holding its breath.
Matteo lets go of his hand and makes a snowball. “Don’t you dare.” David says, staring at him.
Matteo grins.
“Matteo, I swear-“, the snowball hits him straight in the chest.
Matteo shrugs, “You didn’t even move, you were such an easy target, how do you expect me to resist?”
David quickly makes a snowball as well and throws it at Matteo’s face.
“Jesus!” Matteo spits out, trying to clear up his face with his hand.
David grins and puts his hands on his hips. “ You didn’t even move .”
He gets tackled by Matteo, who was hiding another handful of snow and is now shoving it inside David’s jumper.
David shouts, trying to get his stupid asshole off of him. As a result he just gets more snow further inside his clothes and a cackling Matteo on top of him.
He stops trying to wriggle away and admits defeat. “Okay, okay, you won, can you now, please, get off of me?”
Matteo crosses his arms on David’s chest and leans his chin on them, grinning down at him. “No. You need to say it again.”
David lets his head fall back, not caring that his hair is getting wet with snow. “Matteooooo.” He groans.
His stupid boyfriend blinks at the white sky, “Did you hear something? I didn’t. I’ll just stay here forever now, I think.”
David pushes his hand on Matteo’s face, “I’m not saying it again.”
Matteo, being his disgusting self, licks his hand. “Say that I won, it’s just the truth.”
David discretely takes another handful of snow. He dramatically sighs, “All right, I admit that you, Matteo Florenzi-“, he quickly shoves the snow down Matteo’s coat, making him shudder, and spins him around, so that David’s now on top of him and holding him down by the wrists, “-lost once again, to your superior boyfriend, David Schreibner.”
Matteo frowns at him. “To my cheating boyfriend, you mean.”
David leans down closer to his face, “Didn’t you hear? Everything is fair in war and love.”
Matteo snorts, “Don’t be cheesy now, your film major is showing.”
David shakes his head, but presses a quick kiss to his lips. Then he rolls off of him and lies next to him in the snow. “We will regret this so much tomorrow if we get a cold.” He says.
“I hate you.” Comes the answer. “I can feel snow in so many places snow should never be.”
“You know I’m competitive.”
“Alas, don’t I know it.”
David smiles at him, “Alas?”
Matteo takes snow out of his shirt, making a grimace. “I know words , David.”
David laughs.
There aren’t many people around, only a few daring to venture out moments after it stopped snowing. The few wrapped up figures walking around don’t really look at them, not caring about two boys laying on the ground, laughing and kissing.
David is so happy he gets to have this.
He takes Matteo’s hand, even after the dumbass tries to pull it away, and they stare together at the sky, its paleness reassuring in all the possibilities it offers.
At some point, Matteo clears his throat. “Anyway. You’re welcome to come to dinner with me to my mum’s for Christmas, if you want to. I know you’re Jewish, and you’re probably busy celebrating Hannukah, but maybe...well, if you want to, it would just be us three. My mum will probably say a prayer before eating, but that’s the most Christian it will get.” David looks at him, Matteo looks back. His eyes are warm. “She told me to invite you. And well...I would love to have you there.”
David smiles and squeezes Matteo’s hand. “I would love to come.”
He sees the relief on Matteo’s face and his own heart feels light.
“Just remember to tell her I’m vegan.”
“Oh, fuck you.”
*
It’s the third day of Hannukah when David gets a message from his parents.
Laura is making tea in the kitchen, David is sitting on the sofa and drawing.
The menorah is standing on the window sill, and they just finished eating some sufganiyot that one of their neighbours made for them, because they looked after her cat while she was away this summer.
Laura put up some music, a violinist she likes because one of her ex’s she is still friends with took her to a concert once. The music fills the whole apartment, and David can hear Laura‘s dancing footsteps while she waits for the water to boil.
He is trying to draw the view outside their windows, all the roofs and the lights hanging from the balcons, but he keeps messing up the perspective. He is about to erase it all out again, when his phone vibrates with a new message.
He opens it and when he sees his father’s name, he lets the phone drop to the floor.
He stares at it, feeling so shocked that he can’t even bring up the courage to pick it up again.
Laura shuts the music off and sticks her head out the kitchen door, “What was that noise?”
She sees him sitting on the sofa, frozen and staring at the phone on the floor, and she must realize that something has happened. “Everything okay?”
David hears her footsteps and feels her sit down beside him. She gingerly puts a hand on his shoulder, “David?” She asks, and her voice is very careful.
David turns to look at her, and it takes him a bit to pull his eyes away from the phone. “My father sent a message.” He croaks out.
“Oh.” Laura nods, slowly.
David shakes his head a little, “I think ...I’m afraid to look at it.”
Laura squeezes his shoulder a bit. “Do you want to do it together?”
Her hand is reassuring, her presence next to him is warm. No matter what the message says, he knows she will be there for him. He nods.
Laura picks up the phone and gives it to him.
His hands are trembling just a little when he swipes on it again, opening the message. His heart beats so loud he thinks Laura must hear it, too.
David , the message says, three years have passed. We would like to see you again. If you want to, come home for Hannukah.
David’s hand tighten around the phone. Laura’s hand holds him just a little closer.
“What do you want to do?” His self made sister whispers.
He closes his eyes. “I don’t know.”
David , the message said. David .
We would like to see you.
*
He doesn’t tell Matteo about his parents’ message, he doesn’t tell anyone but Laura. He thinks and thinks and he just doesn’t know what to do.
He sits on a bridge, watching tourists walk over it in big coats and scarves. He tries to draw the city around him, even though his fingers are stiff from the cold.
He draws the house before him, its big windows, he tries shading the coal in a way that makes them look like a reflection.
He rubs his cold finger over the paper, uncaring of any marks it leaves on his skin, and thinks.
He longed to be accepted back home for so long, but now that his parents actually reached out...he doesn’t feel ready.
He is afraid of seeing them again. Of going back to that house. He likes where he is now and who he is with. Who he made himself to be.
He doesn’t need them.
But his parents called him David in the message.
Maybe they changed, maybe he can form any sort of relationship with them again. Maybe they learned.
He sighs and rips the paper he is drawing on in two.
The perspective is wrong again. All the roofs look too big or too small, as if seen through a magnifying glass, distorced and not real enough to fit in here.
*
The name he chose for himself, when he started to discover who he truly was, means beloved in his religion’s language.
They say that names have prophetic powers.
*
That night, he stays at the WG. He cuddles into Matteo’s arms after they watched a dumb film together and Matteo made pasta for dinner for the whole flat.
Now they lay entangled together in Matteo’s bed, the moonlight shines soft through the window, and David hears Matteo’s soft breathing from where he has put his head on his chest.
Matteo is sleeping but David can’t shut his fucking head up.
He keeps thinking about the message. He also keeps thinking about going home again and feeling slightly sick at the idea.
Anxiety eats away at his stomach, and he can’t get any sleep, so he stands up, puts on his binder and shrugs one of Matteo’s old big jumpers on.
He walks slowly to the kitchen to make himself some tea, but finds someone already there.
Mia and Hans are both sitting at the kitchen table, both holding mugs and both smiling at him tiredly.
“You can’t sleep either, huh?” Mia asks him, her voice is kind, it always is. David wonders how she does it, it must be exhausting.
Hans starts getting up, “Do you want a hot chocolate, too, dear?”
David feels his heart quench with affection, but he shakes his head, “No, no, don’t worry. I’ll just make myself a tea.”
He fills the boiler with water and while he waits for it to heat, he leans on the kitchen board, and smiles at Hans and Mia. “Why are you two up?”
Hans sighs, loudly, “I was actually just getting a midnight snack, but poor Mia was sitting here all alone, so I selflessly stayed up to help soothe her sufferings.”
Mia grins and shoves his shoulder, “Hey, nobody forced you, you’re welcome to go back to bed and leave me, if you want to.”
Hans puts his head on her shoulder, “But how could I ever?”
Mia shakes her head but doesn’t shrug him off, “You kiss-up.” Then she looks back to David with her guarded eyes, “Some nights I am just...too restless to sleep. I just feel guilty losing so much time sleeping, you know?”
David scratches his cheek, “Oh, I understand that. Sometimes my mind buzzes with new ideas, and if I don’t spend the whole night writing them down, I’m done for.”
Hans sighs, “The tormented artist!” David smiles at him.
The boiler goes off, David turns back and pours himself a mug full of herbal tea.
He sits down with them at the table and starts sipping it. “I can’t sleep because I’ve got a lot on my mind. Family stuff.”
Both Hans and Mia wince a little. They don’t know much about his family situation, except that he doesn’t really have contact with them, and that Laura isn’t his biological sister, but that she is in every way that matters.
Hans sighs, “Oh...family. Mine still doesn’t know I’m gay. They still think I’m as straight as a die, and not doing anything else in my life but taking up new law practicums.”
Mia squeezes Hans’ hand. “You said your mum seems more open, though?”
Hans smiles at her. “She watches Ru Paul now, and she doesn’t seem so terrified by queer people anymore. Still, I think I will wait a little more until I tell her. But yeah, she’s changing.”
David smiles too, “That’s wonderful.”
David , the message said.
Mia passes a finger over the rim of her mug, “My parents and I can’t talk for long before we start arguining. They are away, usually, anyway, but they really don’t know me at all. They don’t even try.” She smiles a little bitterly, “I’ll tell them I’m bi only when I’ll be in a long term relationship with a girl, I suppose. I don’t even think they would have a problem with that but.....I just don’t feel like they care very much in general.”
Hans rubs her shoulder, “Oh, my butterfly.”
Mia shrugs a bit, “I haven’t heard from them in two months, actually. They are travelling around South America for their jobs, right now, it’s not like I can expect them to remember me then.” Her sardonic tone matches her eyes, rolling to the ceiling.
David sighs, “That sucks, Mia.” She looks at him and her face is kind again.
He takes another sip from his mug. “I didn’t have the choice of not telling them about me, and when I did, they...didn’t react well. So I left. Then Laura found me and took me in. I haven’t really heard from them in a while, except, well. Except a few days ago.”
He doesn’t know why he’s telling them all of a sudden.
Maybe it’s the time, four in the morning, where it seems like reality hasn’t yet woken up and they are just sitting in dreams, revealing things they usually wouldn’t. Maybe it’s because they opened up first, and he doesn’t feel too different. Maybe it’s because his mind is driving him wild and he just needs to tell someone, anyone.
He looks up and sees that both their faces look worried, but open. He continues, “They sent me a message telling me they want to see me again. And they used my right name in it, too.” His voice goes almost down to a whisper in the second part of the sentence, he still is quite overcome by it.
Hans takes his arm, “That sounds amazing, David!”
Mia takes his other hand, more carefully, she says, “How do you feel about them reaching out, now?”
David looks at his mug, “It’s been three years since I left them. I....don’t really know. I mean...what made them change their mind? Why now suddenly? And ...how will they react when they see me now?” His voice stops completely and he shakes his head a bit.
Hans squeezes his hand, “You don’t have to give them anything, my butterfly. It’s all your choice if you want to see them again or not.”
Mia nods, “They didn’t reach out for three years, if you don’t want to see them, they should honestly have expected it.”
David nods, too, then he blinks, “The fucked up thing is ...that I miss them.”
Hans hugs him, “Oh, David.”
Mia puts her arm around his shoulders, “You have all the choices before you, and all the time to choose, as well.”
David feels a lump in his throat. He leans into their embrace, letting their warmth surround him.
Together, they stay huddled in the kitchen and wait until the sunrise.
*
Three years is a lot of time. That’s 36 months, 144 weeks and 1095 days.
That’s three autumns, three springs, three summers, and almost three winters.
That’s the amount of time in which David has become someone else, someone his parents wouldn’t recognize on the street.
That’s the amount of time it took them to ask him to come back.
But three times is the charm, isn’t it?
*
The morning after, Matteo finds him sitting on the roof.
David is looking over the city, one of Matteo’s scarves wrapped around the lower part of his face, an empty sketchbook by his side. He's rolling the pencil between his fingers, absentmindedly.
He is thinking, all things that love are sacred . And he is feeling something tug achingly at his heart.
Matteo's steps are loud and quiet at the same time on the roof, both a loud warning so that David won't be scared and fall, and a careful sound, because everything that Matteo does is careful.
“Na?” he says, tilting his head in a way that mocks David's usual mannerism. David puts the pencil away and looks at him with a small smile. Matteo lets himself fall beside him and puts his head on David's shoulder.
“What are you doing up here on the roof, my artist?” he asks, taking one of David's hands and starting to tap his fingers against his palm.
David puts his arm around him and kisses his dark blond head, “Just thinking.”
Matteos familiar smell fills his nose and he sighs into it.
“And you couldn’t just be thinking inside the flat?” Matteo asks, because he has to be a little shit, even now, even here.
David has to smile a little bit more. He says, “Now what kind of artist would I be then?”
Matteo stays silent for a moment, then he stops tapping his fingers on David’s palm and intertwines their fingers, covering his whole palm with his own. “A safe one,” he whispers.
Often, there’s things that remain unsaid.
David looks at him. “My parents want to see me again.”
Matteo looks back at him. His nose is getting red because of the cold air. “And you?” He sounds very careful, just like Laura did.
David blinks at the sky, grey and pale. The summer they spent tripping through Europe feels decades away, yet it was only a few months ago.
“I don’t know. I think I need more time.”
Matteo kisses his forehead. “That’s understandable. You don’t owe them anything.”
David wraps the scarf closer around his neck. “I am curious to see how they changed. And sometimes I miss them. But.”
Matteo pokes his cold nose against David’s cheek, “But?”
“But I also learned how to live without them. I’m fine and I also...I think I’m very different to what I was like when I still lived with them.”
Matteo smiles at him, “You’ve grown, dumbass.”
David snorts. “Yeah, how strange.”
Matteo squeezes his hand. “You are your own person and it’s completely your choice if you want to see them again or not. And whatever you choose, it’s okay.”
David nods. His voice doesn’t want to come out of his mouth, and his heart still aches a bit, and something inside of him is unsettled, but it’s fine. He’s not alone and he has all the time he needs. He is his own person and he feels stronger than he was a few years ago.
He leans into Matteo’s warm body and they look over the city.
The roofs are so near to each other, he thinks that one could dance from house to house.
*
On the morning of Christmas, but most importantly on the morning of the day in which they are going to have dinner with Matteo’s mum, they are standing before the bathroom mirror, Matteo with a toothbrush in his mouth, David, for the first time in his life, with razor creme all over the lower part of his face and a razor in his hand.
Matteo is cleaning his teeth, apparently, but, actually, he is just staring at David, waiting for him to do the first move, as if he can’t take his eyes off the upcoming disaster.
“I can’t take my eyes off the upcoming disaster.” He says. David flips him off.
David gulps one last time, he is actually more nervous than he likes to admit, and he begins passing the razorblade over his cheek.
Obviously, he immediately cuts himself.
Matteo winces, spits his toothpaste out, and takes the blade from David. “Hold on,” he says, and carefully washes the cut on David’s face.
More blood than David would have expected runs in the sink.
“I can do it,” he insists, but Matteo takes his face into his hands and presses his lips together. The asshole is trying not to laugh. He says, “First watch, dumbass.”
The suppressed smile fades as he slowly, slowly, passes the razor over David’s cheeks and chin, eliminating the little bit of stubble that he had been accumulating these last weeks.
“See, don’t be so impatient. You need to take time.” David is about to open his mouth and reply that he is very patient, thank you very much, he has an annoying shit as a boyfriend after all, but Matteo shushes him. “And don’t move, Jesus, I’m holding a blade near your throat.” So David shuts up.
Matteo works concentrated, his eyebrows scrunched together, and yet the blade is almost feather light on his skin. He looks cute like this, David has to admit.
Matteo chews on his lip, “When the time came, my dad had already fucked off to Italy, so there was no one to teach me how to shave. I could have asked Jonas of course...” Matteo trails off, his eyes still concentrated, “But I was embarassed, so I didn’t. So I taught myself.”
David would like to say something, remind him he isn’t alone. Thank him, at least. But Matteo chose exactly this strategic moment to share tragic elements of his past in which David can’t talk.
Matteo looks him in the eyes, as if he feels David’s need to say something, and grins at him. “It took a while, but now I can teach my stupid boyfriend how to shave.”
David flips him off again, but lovingly.
“There you go,” Matteo says, finally, after having washed David’s face clean.
He takes his face in his hands again and presses a kiss on each cheek, “As smooth as a baby’s butt.”
David shakes his head but he has to grin, “Thank you.”
Matteo washes out the razorblade, “Anytime.” He says.
*
There’s lights hanging outside Matteo’s mum’s windows, golden ones that look like a soft, quiet rain.
Matteo is holding flowers. He straightens his jumper, looking a little nervous. David passes his hand through Matteo’s hair. “Ready?” He whispers.
Matteo looks at him and smiles. “Of course.”
They sound the doorbell and soon Matteo’s mother appears and invites them in. Her face is extremely kind, her eyes warm.
She hugs Matteo, her hand resting on his neck, and when David sees her face, he sees an expression that seems to reflect his own, sometimes: there’s happiness and love, but also a note of melancholy.
Matteo’s mum hasn’t yet forgiven herself completely, even though her mental illness isn’t her own fault.
She takes the flowers with many thanks and smells at them, closing her eyes. Then she sees David, he tries to smile warmly at her too.
She hugs him, saying, “How wonderful that you came, too, David. It’s always a joy to see you.” And her voice is so honest, David feels his heart break a little bit.
“It’s always a joy to be here.” He says, and even though Matteo is playfully rolling his eyes at his words, he means it, too.
*
The dinner goes well, Matteo’s mum is such a soft spoken and pleasant person to be around, it couldn’t go any other way.
On the way home, sitting in the metro, David, full with food and wine, feels a little bit overwhelmed with the amount of people that care for him.
He leans his head on Matteo’s shoulder, not feeling scared of anything.
Matteo kisses his head, “I love you.”
Every time he hears it, still, still, his heart fills with warmth and incredulity. It’s an amazing feeling that he hopes he will never stop experiencing.
David kisses his cheek and whispers into his ear, “All things that love are sacred.”
*
When they get home, David feels brave.
No matter what happens, he is beloved .
He answers the message.