Archive of Our Own

It isn’t until late in the afternoon the next day that Damiano realizes he never got his third gift. The realization hits him out of nowhere. Really. He’s seated outside on his small balcony, enjoying the warmth of the sun shining on his face. He’s all by himself for the moment. It’s strange, he thinks, to be alone after what happened yesterday. It’s almost natural for his bandmates to stay at his place. Eat together. Have fun. Have sex. And then cuddle up in the bed. It may be a bit too small to sleep comfortably, but the cuddles definitely outweigh any discomfort or lack of sleep.

Damiano isn’t sure what to think of himself when he realizes he could get used to having them around all day. He can really see how that’d work. The constant playful laughter in his house. The companionship. He presses his lips together. He shouldn’t be thinking these things; he’ll only get himself hurt.

And that’s exactly how his thoughts had spiraled. Back to Sanremo. Back to Eurovision- and the first night they all slept together. From there, his mind made the jump to the toys they got him- and that’s exactly when he remembered Thomas’s words.

“...We have three gifts for now…”

Damiano hums quietly, taking another drag from his cigarette. Had they held it back on purpose? Or had they simply forgotten? Damiano isn’t sure, and he has to admit it makes him nervous. Thank God the other three are coming back in tonight for a shared dinner. Perhaps… Perhaps he could ask. 

Cause he definitely can’t peek into the box without them. God. They would punish him for weeks on end. Besides, he doesn’t want to betray their trust like that. This is their gift. As much as he wants to know what it is, he won’t peek. 

With a loud sigh, he pushes his burned-out cigarette in the ashtray and pushes himself up from his chair. He promised to cook tonight, so time to get the groceries done.

-

“Ooof,” Victoria groans as she slumps back in her chair, her hands patting her stomach. “I literally can’t anymore. That was lovely, Dam.” Damiano grins proudly and shrugs.
“Nonna taught me how to cook before I could even walk.” He chuckles softly. “She’d rather have me strut around in my feminine clothes than having a grandson without proper cooking skills.”
“Your nonna was right about that,” Ethan adds in. “Speaking of your cooking skills and immaculate styling choices, I’ll happily take both.”
“Oh yes, both sound perfect.”

Somehow, Thomas’s comment sounds off, and Damiano frowns. 
“Thomas? Are you okay?” Thomas looks up, clearly trying to smile but failing. Shit.
“I- It’s alright,” he mumbles, and when Vic sits up straight to join in, he shakes his head and continues. “Really. It’s nothing.” Thomas shifts in his seat, trying to find a more comfortable position. Damiano feels a pang of worry creep up in his chest. Thomas, contrary to popular belief, is a talker. If he doesn’t talk, something’s wrong. Damiano reaches for Thomas’s hand on the table- and much to his surprise, Thomas pulls away in shock. It’s instantly clear that Thomas himself hadn’t expected to do that either and something unexplainable crosses over his face.
“Shit, Dam-”
“Hey, it’s alright,” Damiano whispers, pulling his hand back, unsure what to do with it. “Will you talk to us, though?”
“Whatever it is, we can help you,” Victoria says softly. Her voice is deep and comforting. Thomas sniffs and looks up, a wry smile on his face now.
“It’s stupid ,” he mutters. “Really stupid.”

“Nothing’s stupid, Thomas. Aren’t you always preaching for that?” Ethan suggests carefully. Thomas huffs and shakes his head. He scratches the back of his neck, shaking his head once again. Clearly unsure of what to do or say next.
“I was thinking…” he starts. “About, eh, the last gift we have for Damiano.”

Damiano’s face flushes lightly. So it had been on purpose then.

“What about it?” Victoria asks, frowning. Thomas takes a deep breath.
“I don’t want to spoil it, and I won’t- But I was thinking , really thinking. And I realized…” Thomas chews on his bottom lip. “Dio Santo, don’t laugh, but I suddenly realized I’m very much bisexual, and it fucked me over.”

Oh.

Damiano does have to bite back a laugh, not because he wants to laugh but because it does sound inherently funny in itself. He’s able to keep it down, though, especially when he sees the worry written all over Thomas’s face.
“I’ve been sleeping with the three of you for weeks ,” Thomas mutters, “-and I liked it. A lot. And only now I realized. How oblivious can one be? And like- it doesn’t change a thing, but it changes everything , doesn’t it? What does it mean? I have no clue.” He rambles on, and Damiano feels terrible for him. Victoria speaks first.

“It’s a lot,” she agrees. “Especially if you never had doubts about it before.”
“Yeah,” Thomas whispers and shakes his head, almost a nervous tick by now. “With all of your, everything makes so much sense. But then when I’m alone… I- I start to question.” Damiano presses his lips together. He doesn’t know what to say right away. Surely this talk had to come at one point in all of this. The sexual high slowly fading into something deeper, something sweeter, and therefore much more confusing.
“Do you question us?” Ethan asks, apparently having the same thoughts as Damiano has. “Cause if that’s the case, we could take a break. No one should feel forced into this,” the drummer speaks. Wise, as always. Damiano has to admit he’s having a hard time staying calm. He completely agrees. No one should feel pressured. Yet, it’s scary to think that this bubble of happiness might come crashing down on him faster than he’d expected.

Cause honestly, he’s been thinking about it too. They’re friends. Sure, they have fucking mind-blowing sex- but how long can that last?

“No, I don’t question you. None of you.” Thomas says, suddenly much quieter. “That’s why it confuses me so much.”
“What do you mean?” Victoria whispers. “Are you talking about- eh, the thing we discussed when we picked the gift?” Thomas nods to that, and Damiano aches to know what the fuck they’re talking about. Ethan’s eyes flicker between the three of them.
“I think we should give Damiano his gift. He doesn’t know what we’re talking about, and we should have this discussion with everyone. Together.”
“It’d ruin the gift,” Thomas says, voice clearly pained. “I don’t want that. We can do this another way. Surely.” He takes a deep breath, and Damiano feels all the more confused. He doesn’t know what’s happening. What exactly are they discussing here?
“Someone should tell me what’s going on,” he says. He realizes his voice comes out stronger than he intended to, but how could it not? God, he’s fucking tense.

“Damiano, amore,” Victoria breathes. “We should discuss a few things. Sorry, this was not the way it was supposed to go.”
“Just tell me.” Damiano sighs. He’s scared. Scared they’re going to drop him. But he couldn’t blame them if they did. “Just tell me,” he repeats.
“When we picked your last gift, we realized that we never established what we are to each other. It all just happened , but…” Victoria’s voice trails off, and Damiano feels like he can’t breathe.
“And?” He chokes out.
“I… I think we should give Damiano his gift, sorry.” Ethan mumbles. “It explains it better than we could. Thomas? Vic?”

They both nod this time, agreeing to it. Without having to ask, Damiano points towards the living room. “It’s still on the coffee table.” 
Ethan shoves his chair back quietly and stands up without a word, walking over to the living room to grab the box where the gifts had been in. When he returns, he sits back in his chair. Damiano feels cold to the bone at the tension in the small kitchen. Ethan’s fingers tremble slightly when he opens the box.
“We picked this for you because you’re very special for us, Damiano.” Ethan’s voice is unsteady, very unlike him. “When we ordered it, we didn’t think much about it yet. But it’s clear that… Our minds have found a different way to look at it.”
“Just give it to him,” Thomas breathes. “Please.”

Ethan nods, reaching inside and taking out something very small. It’s pretty tiny, really. Wrapped in a layer of silver foil and a bow.
“This is for you.”

Damiano can’t breathe when he takes the small gift from Ethan’s hands. He can’t breathe, when his fingers work around the bow to open it up and then tearing the foil. Inside is a small metal item. It’s shiny, glimmering brightly in the light of the sun slowly setting outside of his house. Is… Is it a dog tag? Damiano gasps when he sees there’s something engraved in it.

Damiano.

Damiano turns it around and clasps his free hand over his mouth, nearly dropping the tag on the table.

Di proprietà di: Victoria, Ethan, Thomas.

Damiano is shaking as his eyes keep reading the simple words over and over again. When he looks up, he can feel a tear glide down his cheek.
“I-” he stammers, not sure what to say. “Is this… What I think it is?”
“When we bought it, we didn’t think it through. Not enough. We want this, Damiano. But… I think what Thomas was trying to say earlier, please , correct me if I’m wrong. I think Thomas wants this to be more than sexual. And I think Ethan feels the same way.” Victoria sighs. “ I feel the same way.”
“I don’t understand,” Damiano whispers, but really, he thinks he does. He closes his eyes for a good second, trying to process all of this. Shit. Shit.  
“We want you to be our boyfriend,” Thomas says- finally saying the cursed word no one had dared to speak. “We want to be with you. If… If you want that too.”

A million things flicker through Damiano’s brain. He’s been thinking about this, too. Heck, he’d even thought about wanting them around his house. Chilling out, in a way that is something more than just friendship. More than sex. But is this… love, then? What even is love? Can one experience that for so many people at once? But what about the band… Shit, could this ruin the band if it went wrong?

“Damiano?” Victoria asks carefully. “What do you think?” Damiano’s hands slide up to his neck, his fingers trailing over the thick leather collar he’d been wearing since yesterday’s play. He put it right back on after his shower last night. 

Damiano isn’t sure what this means. What it even could mean, but he feels so sure about the next move that he goes for it. He sniffs, stands up from his chair, and kneels in front of Victoria. The girl stares down at him.
“Dam…”
“I think,” he whispers, “-this belongs on my collar.” He slowly hands her the tag they’d gifted him. 
“Oh god,” Ethan breathes. “Is that a yes?”
“Is it?” Thomas asks. Damiano smiles, a warm feeling spreading across his chest when he nods. Now that he’s kneeling here, it feels right. So right. He might not understand the difference between different types of love, but does it truly matter? Cause he loves them. And they love him.

“Yes. Yes, I will be your boyfriend.”

“Oh God,” Thomas chokes out, and he stumbles from his chair, making his way over to tackle Damiano onto the floor. “Bastard!” he laughs. “I fucking love you. I love you, I love you. ” Damiano laughs and lets Thomas’s arms wrap themselves around his waist. The guitarist’s face buries in Damiano’s neck, and Damiano hugs him back.
“Ti amo, Thomas. Ti amo anch'io. ” He looks up and finds Victoria and Ethan looking down at the two of them on the floor. Victoria’s eyes are red and puffy, a happy smile curling on her lips. Ethan’s lips have parted and disbelief, and slowly, he gets up from his chair too and gets onto the floor with them, joining the hug. Victoria hums sweetly. “ My boys… ”

Damiano can’t believe this is truly happening, and it feels like a harsh smack in his face when he realizes he’s no longer single and fucking his best friends. He now has three partners . It’ll have its challenges, but right now, Damiano feels like he could conquer the entire fucking world.
“Damiano,” Victoria chuckles. “Want me to put the tag on your collar?” Damiano nods eagerly, and Thomas and Ethan make space without really letting him go though. When Damiano is kneeling in front of his queen again, he has his boyfriends by his side. Leaning into him. Caressing him.
“Alright,” Vic mumbles and squints her eyes looking at his collar. “Let me see how to... Yes.” Her soft fingers brush past his throat when she attaches the tag to his collar. When she pulls back, she sends him the most adoring gaze he’d ever received.

“ Cucciolo, ” she says. “Welcome home.”