Summer, 1983 (I'll call you by mine)

No day but today

And he looks perfect

I don't deserve this

You look perfect tonight"

"I love you...O-l-i-v-e-r.."

"Elio, Elio, E-l-i-o..." Green eyes locking with blue. "Oliver?"

Oliver knew what Elio wanted, without him even asking. Thirteen years of knowing each other's mind and bodies and thirty-three years of love. Oliver kissed him, Elio bit his bottom lip, nodding as Oliver lifted him up. Elio's feet softly hit the floor, slow kisses turned into a frantic passion. Oliver's robe was slid off his shoulders, Elio pulled Oliver's hips into his own as the robe hit the floor. He slowly walked Elio back toward the fireplace, the burning warmth forced Elio to remove his own robe not letting his eyes fall from Olivers. He slowly fell to his knees pulling Oliver with him, wrapping his slim arms around Oliver's neck, Elio gave him the best kiss of his life.. Oliver moaned.

"You look perfect tonight." Oliver said under his breath.

"Mm you are my angel and I don't deserve you..."

Oliver took Elio's mouth, neither beginning able to get enough of each other, forgetting to breathe, forgetting who else was in the villa. God could have walked in at that moment and neither of them would stop what they were doing. Light from the fire shimmered over their bodies as they writhed in pleasure. The grandfather clock struck midnight. Legs and arms tangled and intertwined not knowing where on ended or the other began. Elio laid on the plush Persian rug, Oliver nestled into his side. Warm fingers slowly strolled up to his arm. Elio reaches out grabbing both robes to make a makeshift pillow so as to not wake Oliver. Moving them behind his head he felt a sharp pain in the side of his head. Feeling around he pulled a large envelope addressed to him. He nudges Oliver who groaned in protest, he was the worst person in the world to wake up after sex.

"Oliver...Oliver...wake up." Elio pinched his nose together, Oliver quickly woke snorting, gasping for air.

"I'm awake...I'm awake! Shit! Were you trying to suffocate me?" Oliver shot Elio an evil look. It rarely happened but when it did Elio always found it amusing. He and Oliver had only had one true fight, the night Elio had told him that he thought Madeline was abusing Christopher. Oliver defended her, it was the only time they raised their voices at each other, the only time they spoke ill of each other and the only time they had ever gone to bed angry at each other. At midnight Oliver had rolled over.

"Elio?"

"Mm?" Elio refused to look at him.

"Elio look at me?" Oliver lightly pulled on his arm.

"I prefer not too." Elio spoke in a harsh tone.

"I deserve that and I deserved the Li mortacci tua! Which I'm still not sure why you brought my relatives into it."

"If you were Italian you would know why that's the highest insult. I guess Porca paletta is one you will understand." Elio pulled the blanket tighter around him.

"Yeah I understand that one very clearly and I deserve all of it but you didn't deserve what I said to you. I know you are just worried about Christopher but if I felt like something was wrong I would confront her."

Elio quickly rolled over giving Oliver a look he had never seen Elio give him. Anger...

"The moment they finally tell you will be the moment you will feel like the worst father in the world. I don't want you to ever feel like that, so I suggest you talk to her about it the next time she calls and you might want to ask your sons."

They didn't speak of it again and Elio had almost forgotten about it until now.

"No, I was just trying to wake you. But uh why was this in your robe pocket?" Elio lifted the envelope. Oliver's eyes tried to focus, he grumbled and he spoke mid-yawn.