watch me drown

A/N: I won't post more on Wattped. If you'd like more of this, come to my AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skypied where I have over ten other Luberto fics with more to come.

Content warnings: oral sex, rough oral sex, deepthroating, face-fucking, anal fingering, rimming, anal sex, dirty talk, spanking, light bdsm / light dom/sub, praise kink

Luca's been noticing the telltale signs of what his boyfriend calls a mind cloud.

There's the moodiness, reactive and snappy, the way he gets so lost in thought he's startled at any sudden noise, how he's too tired for physical affection beyond some lounging cuddles, the way his eyes nervously flit around, struggling even to meet his.

And worst of all, the withdrawing - spending hours in the backyard polishing and tinkering with the already spotless Vespa, going on solitary walks with hands buried deep in his pockets - futile attempts to stay stoic and not bother him, apparently not understanding that the behavior worries him even more.

All he wants to do is hold him down and forcefully hug him until his mind is clear.

But he knows him. That would only make everything worse, spin into another argument about him being overbearing and pushy and rile Luca up enough to guilt trip him over the situation, and it'd become a whole thing , another insecurity buried deep in both their guts.

So he waits patiently, taking what small chances he has for showing some extra affection, hoping to remind Alberto that he's here whenever he's ready.

Which thankfully comes, on a regular Thursday. Luca notices a little more pep in his step, a little more genuine cheer in his voice as he slips off his shoes and lingers a little longer than usual in their welcome home kiss. After the period of neglect, the simple action has his heart fluttering, aching to be let out to love him.

Dinner is a chattier affair than usual with Alberto telling a long story about a coworker's dating history that has him choking and sputtering eggplant all over the table. Afterwards, he leaves him to the dishes to curl up on the couch with a novel, foregoing his usual evening study session for something that's easy to put down, in hope that Alberto would want something more than resting his head in his lap.

He smiles fondly listening to the low, slightly off-key singing over radio chatter, and tries not getting too carried away by the warm, hopeful feeling swelling in his chest.

Alberto sets down the final plate in the drying rack and instinctively shakes the scales off his hands, cursing as water's splattered all over the counters. Damn his jittery hands, spurred on by fraying nerves. He grabs the towel and quickly wipes it up, exhaling shakily.

He knows he hasn't been a terribly good boyfriend lately, knows he's let his frizzy, chaotic mind trap him, still able to see the world outside pass by from behind frosted glass, just somehow unable to break through, no matter how frustrated he gets. Even unable to reach through the fog to Luca , who he knows would help him, would listen to his every worry and help him organize them neatly into mental folders, still present but noted and processed and put away. Out of sight, a little more out of mind.

Today he finally, finally , woke up with a blessed clear mind, the barrier not gone, but more opaque, like a bubble ready to be burst. He's been able to smell the crisp autumn air, interact freely with his coworkers, smile at a kid passing in the street, finally see the world again.

Now all that remains is reaching out and connecting with Luca again. And he knows he's patient and kind and loves him and will graciously let him fall into his arms like no time has passed and likely just be over the moon to have him back. Still, he's tormented by guilt, feeling like no amount of apologetic kisses will make up for lost time, wipe away the weeks of neglect and small betrayals.