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That evening, the attic smelled of old wood and that specific dampness typical of houses that have seen too many winters. Outside, the end of May had brought along a biting cold that had nothing to do with the summer that was now just around the corner.
It’s true that it always rains at Ivan’s house, but this wasn't just a simple storm.
The air filtering through the window frames tasted of wet asphalt and churned mud. The rain seemed to hit the tiles just a few inches above their heads as if it were made of steel, an obsessive, metallic drumming that forced them to raise their voices to be heard.
Ivan was at the top of a small ladder, balancing on the very last steps, his neck bent at an absurd angle. That dark wooden plank hanging from the ceiling had been there since the first time Lovro had stepped into the house, but Ivan had fixed his mind on repairing it that exact night.
Sitting on the armrest of the sofa, his boyfriend watched him with crossed arms and an expression that oscillated between boredom and a subtle anxiety: "Ivan, get down from there. If you fall I’ll be the one who has to take you to the ER in this weather."
Ivan didn't even turn around. He had a nail clenched between his lips and his hammer raised: "Don't worry baby" The words came out a bit slurred, but his proud tone was still unmistakable: "You know I can do anything."
Lovro rolled his eyes: "Does 'anything' include breaking your neck?" Then he went back to watching the situation from the small window next to him. It looked like the plants outside were about to be stripped bare by the wind: "Fuck, I've never seen a storm like this in the city."
The attic was lit only by the dim, yellowish glow of a couple of lamps; outside, you could barely make out the silhouettes of things. Ivan cursed under his breath, trying to hit the right spot despite the ladder swaying with his every move.
He raised the hammer to deliver the final blow but, right at that moment, the sky above them seemed to tear open. A blinding white flash of lightning filtered through the window, illuminating the room for one last second, and then the roar of a thunderclap was so loud it made everything shake.
Total darkness.
The silence that followed was interrupted only by the insistent tapping of the rain. Ivan stood motionless on the ladder, trying to adjust his eyes to that absolute pitch black.
"Ivan?" Lovro’s voice came from below, a little cracked with fright.
"I’m alive, don't worry." Then came the sound of the hammer being set down on a step: "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, but I literally can't see a thing. Hurry up and get down."
Ivan felt his way down the steps, holding his breath when he missed the last one and almost flipped over. Once on the ground, he blind tasted the air until he found Lovro's body, who had tried to come toward him.
He left a damp kiss on his forehead, knowing exactly how much to lean down:
"Fucking storm." With one hand he gripped his boyfriend's waist, while with the other he tried to reach out toward the table: "Where's my phone?"
"Under mine, I think. But mine died half an hour ago, I told you I needed to charge it."
Ivan unlocked his screen, and a beam of white light, almost violent in that darkness, lit up their faces. Lovro blinked, brushing his hair off his forehead, while Ivan stared at the screen with a tragic expression.
"We're in business" he sighed.
"Meaning?"
"I'm at five percent, and the flashlight eats up a lot of battery."
At those words, Lovro turned within his embrace, casting a glance at the window; the only light coming through was from the lightning: "So in a few minutes we'll be in complete darkness?"
Ivan could feel the tension from the way Lovro was moving restlessly against his chest, and he couldn't help but smile, softened: "Hey, what's wrong? Are you scared of the rain?"
"This isn't rain" Lovro muttered, his lips pressed against Ivan's shoulder, a position that muffled his defeated tone a little: "And your roof is creaking like it's about to come down."
Ivan laughed at that, trying to pull him even deeper into the hug, as if that could truly protect him: "Nothing is coming down, I just fixed the plank."
Lovro scoffed. His boyfriend was so smug about that miserable achievement that suddenly he didn't feel the fear anymore: "You hit it right as the power went out, you probably just made it worse."
In the end, they decided to set up camp in the closest spot they could reach. They were sitting on the floor, their backs resting against the edge of the sofa, with a huge blanket wrapping around both of them at the same time.
Ivan turned on his phone screen for just a second, just long enough to place it face down on the floor; the light filtering from the edges created a faint luminous halo over their tangled legs.
Lovro curled up a little closer to his side, basking in the last moments of silence before he started talking again: "Let's play a game."
"And what game do you want to play here in the dark?"
Lovro turned his head toward him, trying to make out the features of his face in the half light, he could recognize his silly smile even like this.
"Exactly. Let's do... confessions in the dark! Anything goes, but you can only say things you're ashamed of. Whoever tells the biggest one wins."
He sounded enthusiastic about his proposal, and the house didn't offer many other resources. Lovro rested his head on Ivan's shoulder before accepting: "Alright, you start."
Ivan thought about it for a second, idling with Lovro's fingers while waiting for inspiration: "Okay. When I was a kid, at a birthday party, I pretended to be allergic to chocolate just so I wouldn't have to eat the cake."
Lovro burst out laughing, a clear, sweet sound that for a moment covered the noise of the rain: "And you think that's an embarrassing confession?"
Ivan exhaled, shrugging his shoulders: "You don't get the essence of the game. Come on, you try."
"Okay, let me think. Once I walked in on Jakov and Eva while they were about to have sex."
Ivan tried to hold back a laugh as he pictured the scene. In truth, he often thought about that version of Lovro he had never known; those stories were so precious to him.
"My turn" Ivan said then, sliding an arm around his boyfriend's waist: "This one is recent. Back when we weren't together yet and you pretended to ignore me in the hallways, I used to walk past your classroom at least four times a day, just to see you."
Lovro remained silent for a few seconds, perhaps a little struck by that confession shared with such nonchalance, he was about to answer him when a massive thunderclap ripped through the sky.
A violent, bluish light filtered through the window for a few moments, and Lovro involuntarily jolted against Ivan's body.
Ivan reacted instinctively, shifting just enough to pull him into a hug. He held him tight against himself and placed a hand behind the back of Lovro's neck, pressing his head against his shoulder to shield him from the noise.
In response, Lovro tried to act tough by pulling away slightly, but Ivan’s grip around his neck was too firm to let him move: "Hey, you're home, you're safe," he whispered protectively into his ear.
You're home.
Yeah, technically this was Ivan's attic, above Ivan's parents' house, in a neighborhood that wasn't his own.
And yet, that impulsive phrase felt somehow so right.
He stayed pressed against his chest for a few more moments; in that position, he could smell the familiar scent of Ivan's hoodie and the steady beat of his heart.
He didn't reply, there was probably no need to. But a soft smile tugged at his lips, Ivan noticed it too, but he didn't comment on it.
"It's my turn" Lovro started talking again as he pulled back, this time looking him dead in the eyes.
He let a hand slide over Ivan's cheek until it reached his hair, then took a slightly rebellious lock and twined his fingers through it: "I really like you with longer hair."
He said it in a low voice, but without hesitation, and for a second he could have sworn he saw Ivan blush slightly in the dim light.
Ivan broke the tension immediately by pinching Lovro's side in the dark: "Oh, it's an honor to have your approval on hair matters."
"I'm serious!" Lovro protested, but the sentence came out broken because Ivan pinched him again, this time under his armpit.
"Ivan, stop it." He was trying to wriggle away, but a single arm from his boyfriend seemed to have more strength than his entire body put together: "I swear if you do that again, I'll attack you back."
"Oh, yeah?" It seemed like Ivan was just waiting for that: "Alright, let's see if you can catch me."
Before Lovro could reply, Ivan lunged at his body with both hands, targeting the spots where he knew perfectly well Lovro was ticklish.
Lovro let out a muffled groan, a mix between a laugh and a whine of pure frustration. He tried to defend himself as best he could in the darkness, but within a few moments, he ended up completely pinned to the floor.
Ivan grabbed his wrists, leaning over his body, but as he moved, his legs got tangled in the blanket and he fell clumsily right on top of him.
They found themselves tangled together, short of breath and with their chests rising and falling rapidly. Ivan's weight pinned Lovro's back against the floor, and their noses were so close they could almost touch.
"I caught you" Ivan's words were just a breathless whisper against Lovro's lips.
"Sure, you cheated like always" Lovro replied, but there was no longer the provocation from before in his tone. Then he fluttered his eyes closed and lifted his chin just enough to meet his mouth.
It was a sweet, quick kiss, because Ivan pulled away immediately with a smile: "I didn't cheat, I just defended my territory. Since you like being here so much."
Lovro remained silent for a moment. Their fingers were still intertwined on the cold floor, but a comforting warmth was building up under the blanket.
"That's the second time you've said that" he observed, his voice sounding more like a peep.
"What?"
“About being here. About this place." Lovro murmured with a calmness that surprised even himself, while he could hear Ivan swallow hard in the dark.
He moved his legs slowly until his thighs wrapped around Ivan's waist, then pulled him close so Ivan could settle his full weight against him.
The phone that had been dimly lighting the room had died behind them, but Lovro could still sense Ivan's gaze wandering: "Mmh... why did you move in with Vito and the others?"
Lovro knitted his brows, not catching the point of that question, but he simply let a hand slide into Ivan's hair again and answered: "You know... a lot of things at once... I love her, but I often feel suffocated with my mom."
"Were you happy living with them?"
"Oh yeah, they're all amazing. They helped me so much."
Ivan nodded slowly, hesitating a bit before he kept talking: "A-and... would you be happy if you lived with me, too?"
Lovro let out a chuckle; it seemed like such an obvious answer that he was completely losing his train of thought: "Uhm... obvious? A thousand times over."
He sounded sincere, and in that naive smile, Ivan found the courage to go on: "I don't know... it's just that I was thinking these past few months have been a mess, and now that everything is going so well, I hate seeing you pack your bag every Sunday night."
Lovro's fingers tightened in Ivan's hair, guiding him down until their foreheads rested against each other: "By 'bag,' do you mean the two t-shirts I stuff into my backpack? Most of my things are already here."
Ivan traced a laugh right against his lips: "Yeah, exactly."
"Are you telling me I leave too much of a mess around?"
In fact, Ivan was the neat one in the relationship, there was no arguing about that.
He pressed a quick kiss to Lovro's nose: "That too. But mostly, I'm getting used to having you here all the time." He paused, then blurted out the rest all in one breath: "And... I was thinking you could stop packing that bag. I mean... you could stay with me for good, not just on weekends."
The silence that followed was filled only by the patter of the rain, which by now seemed less violent, almost a peaceful background noise. Lovro didn't move and didn't even let a sigh slip, but he felt his heart suddenly leap.
There were no romantic words, nor any grand promises.
Just Ivan, the same guy he had been terrified of losing a thousand times over the past few months.
Now he was being held tight against his chest.
And he was confessing that he never wanted to see him leave again.