Chapter Text
He was at lunch when he was invited on the trip.
Primo had rang him that morning, had offered to meet him on his lunch break, and Terzo thought it was a bit strange for Primo to come all the way into the city just to see him. So after giving a lecture on The Hero’s Journey in Mythology and Fiction - one of Terzo's most famous subjects - Terzo had met Primo at a little restaurant just outside of the university, stomach grumbling after a missed breakfast and the perfect smell of pasta wafting through the air.
“What’s wrong?” Terzo had said, but Primo just rolled his eyes, spreading the menu across the table.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he said cryptically, and Terzo frowned.
“Well, I know you’ve not come all the way down here just to see me.” He knew it was blunt, but it gained a reaction, and he watched as Primo gave him a withered look.
“You say that like I never spend time with you.”
Terzo wanted to say you don’t but he didn’t want to get into an argument. He is close with his brothers, most of them anyway, but recently none of them had had the time to see each other, even when he and Copia had tried multiple times to get everyone to meet up. Copia had even suggested putting together a group chat but Secondo had said you’re just going to spam it with rat photos so that never happened. When Terzo didn’t answer, Primo sighed, sitting back in his chair.
“We’re going on holiday,” he said, watching Terzo’s face closely.
“And that involves me, how?” Terzo asked.
“We bought you a ticket,” Primo replied, and Terzo glanced down at his menu. He played with the edges of the laminated paper, picking at it between his fingers. He should have been happy that they thought of him, but the fact that they didn’t involve him until it was already booked or even asked him if he’d wanted to come left a bitter taste in his mouth.
“I’m busy,” he said, and Primo scoffed.
“You don’t even know when it is.”
“Well, I’m busy anyway. I’m very sought after, I can’t just leave to prance around on a beach or do the YMCA on a dance floor full of old couples.”
“I never said anything about prancing around or doing the YMCA, but if that’s what you’re gonna do then I don’t want you to come.”
Primo had a very wide grin on his face, and Terzo had scoffed looking down at his menu. He’d wanted something big when he had first sat down, but now his stomach was churning and he didn’t think he could eat more than a salad.
“C’mon,” Primo urged, tapping on the table to get Terzo to look up. “You need a break. You spend all your time either at work or in your flat. You hardly even answer our messages.”
“Well, maybe I don’t want to talk to you,” Terzo said, holding his gaze.
“Look, we’ve already bought your ticket, you may as well come. Just have some time to enjoy yourself. You need to let loose.” Terzo wanted to bite back at that statement, but he knew he’d just be proving Primo's point.
And of course, he had eventually agreed, which is how he finds himself now, white-knuckling the chair as the plane lands. He’s got his eyes squeezed shut, but even then he can tell Secondo keeps glancing at him. He’s very thankful his brother has not said a word in a long while because he is not in the mood to be teased, and instead just focuses on his breathing as clarity springs back to him at the exact moment the plane dips down towards land.
“Will you breathe? You’re freaking me out.”
So much for Secondo staying quiet.
“You freak me out,” Terzo manages to bite out, though it’s half-hearted when he can feel his lungs soar into his throat, and he can’t take in a whole breath or swallow without the fear of throwing up, or you know, dying.
The plane takes an inexplicably long time to land, and by the time they hit the floor, Terzo is sure his face is a deep purple. He sucks in a shaky breath, fluttering his eyes open to see the plane roll against the runway out the window.
Finally.
At least he doesn’t have to go through that for another week. As soon as he’s allowed, he unclasps his seat belt and sighs, sliding down his seat a little as he watches people stand up, getting their bags from the overhead compartment. Secondo twists to look at him and there’s a slight amusement on his face that makes Terzo frown.
“What?” he says, but Secondo just shakes his head, instead glancing up the aisle to see Copia and Primo making their way towards them. The taste of vomit is still thick on Terzo’s tongue, but he tries to smile at them anyway, only as soon as his eyes meet Copia’s, his younger brother’s face morphs horrifyingly with a shocked gasp.
“Merda,” he says, and Primo follows his gaze, looking directly at Terzo.
“What?” Terzo asks, confused, wondering if maybe he’s got vomit dried to his chin. Secondo bursts out laughing and Primo whacks him on the arm.
“I hope that’s not permanent,” he says before digging into his bag and pulling out a pack of wipes. He throws them at Terzo, hitting him in the chest, and Terzo just looks at him, confused.
“Is there something on my face?” he asks, and Copia nods, Secondo’s laughs getting increasingly louder even when he muffles them into his fist.
“Look in your phone camera,” he says, passing Terzo his phone. Terzo opens the front camera and angles it towards his face, only to find a giant dick drawn onto his forehead. He flushes, scowling at his brother.
“What the fuck?” he shrieks, hitting Secondo with the pack of wipes. “That’s not funny.”
“Of course it is,” Secondo says, trying to block the onslaught of Terzo’s hits. “That’s what you get for insulting my wife.”
So that was payback. Terzo grumbles, grabbing a wipe before scrubbing at his forehead. Luckily, the pen starts to come off but not without leaving a red mark. That’s just great. And he doesn’t even have his sunglasses to hide behind. He guesses he’ll just have to pick some up from a shop when they get to the hotel.
He wipes the pen off his forehead then throws the used wipe at his brother before abruptly standing up, scooting past him before stalking down the aisle, hanging onto each seat as he goes. He feels a little steadier than he did the last time he was standing, but the joy of sobriety is shot down by the thunderous headache swarming him. It makes him itchy and frustrated, made worse when he steps out of the plane into 30 degree heat and he’s wearing a shirt and trousers. So he really should have thought this through. He sighs, grumbling to himself as he makes it down the steps, still with a slight wobble, until he is crossing the tarmac under the blazing sun.
His brothers find him sat on a bench in the middle of the airport. He’s got his head between his knees as he tries to breathe through the pain and the vertigo, his heartbeat thrumming in his temples, when he gets a tap on the shoulder, and he opens his eyes to see a pair of feet in front of him. He groans, arching his head up, sweat trickling down the side of his face as he looks up at Primo, who’s holding out a water bottle and some painkillers. He takes them gratefully, swallowing two pills before chugging the water bottle until it’s half gone.
“Are you ready to go?” Primo says, “The coach is waiting for us.”
Terzo really does think maybe it’s a good idea for them to go without him. He is not worth all the fuss, and they do not want to spend their time with someone so boring, someone who struggles to be away from home, someone who will complain about the food and complain about the heat and complain that he feels alone.
Someone who can’t live with himself.
But he does not know how to say this without it sounding like he wants pity, so instead he stays quiet and nods, getting to his feet, wincing at the creaking of his knees, thankful that he did not take a swan dive over the side of his balcony if his knees are already this achy. He follows the others to grab their bags before they board the coach. It's sweltering on board, and Terzo grimaces as he is pushed into a window seat before Copia sits next to him, Secondo and Primo on the other side of the aisle.
“How long are we on here?” Terzo asks, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
“An hour and a half, I think,” Copia says, wiggling back into his seat. “So get comfy.”
“That’s great,” Terzo says.
“Will you stop complaining?” Secondo says, “I think I liked you better when you weren’t sober.”
“I think I like you better when you shut up,” Terzo replies, crossing his arms.
“You’ve really got a mood on you today, huh?” Secondo says, leaning across the aisle. Terzo frowns, meets his eyes.
“It’s not my fault you’ve kidnapped me and flown me across the world.”
“Hardly,” Primo says, pushing Secondo’s chest back. “You can be so dramatic. You agreed to this trip.”
Terzo pouts, turns to look out the window, thankful when the coach finally hums to life and they start to move. The sun is glaring at him, but the landscapes and houses they pass are beautiful to look at, so he tries to focus on them. Tries, being the key word, because no more than five minutes have gone by before there’s the sound of crinkling plastic and his nose is assaulted by the strong scent of oranges.
He swallows thickly and turns to see Copia with a zip lock bag open on his lap, peeling an orange.
“That stinks,” Terzo complains, but Copia just shrugs, peeling away the orange skin.
“It’s summery.”
“What?”
“When there is sun, oranges are fun.”
Terzo looks on bemused, and Copia presses a segment into his mouth.
“Did you just.. make that up?”
“It’s a summery snack,” Copia says around the food in his mouth. “That’s what you take to picnics.”
“We’re not at a picnic.”
“But if we were at a picnic,” Copia stresses, swallowing, “this is what I’d be eating.”
“Can someone swap seats with me?” Terzo cries, leaning past Copia to plead to his brothers.
“No thanks,” Secondo says. “I can smell that orange from here.”
“It’s a satsuma,” Copia says confidently, glaring slightly at Secondo.
“Now you’re being pedantic? You just called it an orange.”
“Well, it is.”
Terzo tunes out their bickering after that. The painkillers have hardly helped his head at all, and the smell of Copia’s food is causing his gag reflex to act in overdrive. He presses the back of his hand to his mouth to try and breathe through it, but soon enough he gags, bending over at the waist.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Copia says with his satsuma breath, pushing Terzo back up against his chair. “Just breathe through it.”
“Easy for you to say,” Terzo replies, straining through his teeth as he tries to keep what’s in his stomach, in his stomach.
“I don’t think there’s anything left in you to throw up,” Primo says, which doesn’t help because Terzo’s stomach does not seem to get that memo.
“Just talk to us about something,” Secondo says.
“Like what?”
“Anything.”
“How’s Alpha?”
Terzo side eyes Copia. Oh, he could kill him if he didn’t feel like his stomach was about to hurdle out of his throat. He doesn’t talk to his brothers much about Alpha, at least not to his older brothers. Copia knows more because he’s friends with Cumulus, and therefore also Alpha.
“I don’t know,” Terzo admits, which is true. He hasn’t spoken to Alpha in a few days, and when he did, Alpha spent the whole time reassuring him that yes its a good idea, and no you’re not gonna die in a plane crash and if you need me just call me and I’ll come get you. The last time he asked Alpha how he was, when he wasn’t having a complete meltdown over packing his suitcase, Alpha had been abnormally quiet, skating around Terzo’s questions, and Terzo should have pressed on it, but he had the impression that would be like stamping on a bruise. Alpha can be secretive sometimes, and Terzo knows better than to push. “I should probably call him.”
“Call him when we’re at the hotel,” Copia says, wiping orange juice from his lips with the back of his hand.
Terzo hums, turns to squint out the window, his eyes hurting under the fringe of sunbeams filtering through it. The nausea seems to mostly have passed now that he’s not focused on it, but his head still hurts like a motherfucker.
“I need to pick up some sunglasses when we get there,” he mumbles, sheltering his eyes with his hand.
“What?” Copia asks and Terzo huffs, twisting to look at him.
“I couldn’t find my sunglasses. So I need to buy some when we’re there.”
“With the gems?” Copia asks.
“What?”
“The sunglasses with the gems?”
“You’re making my head hurt,” Terzo moans, presses on his closed eyes with his fingers, trying to drain the ache out from behind them.
He hears Copia rustling about, and their bag whacks him in the thigh. He scowls but keeps rubbing at his eyes until there’s a tap on his knee. He opens his eyes to see his sunglasses in Copia’s hand. The jeweled ones he couldn’t find. He lifts a brow.
“You know, if you keep stealing my things, you’ll have to give me your key.”
Copia has the decency to look slightly ashamed. “I knew you would forget them.”
“I didn’t forget them,” Terzo says, grabbing them off of his brother. “I just couldn’t find them because someone stole them.”
“Look, you have them don’t you?” Copia says, frowning a little. “I just wanted this to go as smooth as possible, and you’re not exactly the poster child for remembering to pack everything.”
Terzo wants to bite back, but then he thinks of the many holidays he and Copia had in their youth and realises he has always been the one to mess things up. He can’t help it, he is organised in everything but leaving. He is a homebody and he likes his flat. Leaving it is an issue he’d rather not face. At work, he’s always on time (he lies, because usually he’s at least five minutes late) and he always knows what he’s doing. Having to leave his safe place is hard for him, especially now he’s older. He can’t just spend the holiday in the clubs getting wasted (he’s not sure the clubs would even let him in now or if he’ll get asked if he has a free bus pass).
They sink back into a languid silence, and Terzo can practically feel himself stew in the heat. The driver up front is playing a tune he does not recognise, and they are winding down roads that are jostling his stomach uncomfortably.
Copia makes a show of licking the tips of his fingers, and Terzo looks over to see the orange - satsuma- is gone. Finally, he thinks, watching Copia pile the leftover peels into a tissue before putting them in a zip lock bag. He can start to smell fresh air again.
With the sunglasses now blocking most of the sun’s harsh light, he can make out the sea above the houses, expanding over the planes with a rippling shimmer. He cannot wait to dip his toes in there, or to stretch out by the pool on a sun lounger. He finds, absentmindedly, that maybe he was looking forward to this trip more than he thought. He wonders if he’ll meet someone new, maybe he’ll find someone to spend the night with. He just hopes his room is not on the same floor as his brothers’.
The sound of a crinkling wrapper interrupts his thoughts, and aggravated, he sharply turns to look at Copia who has opened a share bag of chili Doritos. Terzo doesn’t even know where he got all this food, and wonders if Copia had visited the airport shop to stock up on the trip when he was dry heaving on the airport floor.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Copia looks up at him, eyes round, and it just stokes the anger simmering in Terzo’s gut.
“Will you leave me alone?” Copia cries.
“I think he’s just hangry,” Secondo says, leaning over to steal a crisp off of Copia.
“What?” Terzo spits, his glare softened by his dazzling sunglasses.
“Hungry and angry.”
“No, he’s hungover and angry,” Primo interjects.
“Will you stop pretending I’m not here?” Terzo exclaims.
“Then stop picking on your brother,” Secondo says, grabbing the whole pack of Doritos from Copia. “That’s my job.”
“Hey,” Copia shouts, but resigns himself to the fact he won’t be getting his crisps back anytime soon.
With Copia now silent, Terzo closes his eyes, leaning his temple against the window. They start to stop at different resorts and he watches as various groups of people get off, mostly older women and some couples, until finally they get to their hotel. Copia nudges him none too gently, and he hadn’t realised he’d closed his eyes.
“C’mon,” Copia says, getting out of his seat. “You can nap when we’re in the room.”
“I wasn’t asleep,” Terzo says, because he can swear he wasn’t. He stands up, groaning slightly as the world tilts, and he’s grabbed by the elbow and steered into the aisle.
“If you spend the whole time with your eyes closed, you’re not gonna enjoy this trip very much,” Primo says in his ear, ushering him off the bus.
“I wasn’t asleep,” Terzo reiterates as he steps onto the path outside, but he finds Primo isn’t listening.
“Jesus Christ,” Primo says before he reaches into his pocket and passes him a pack of mints.
Terzo looks at it for a moment before he glowers.
“Oh, thanks guys.”
Secondo snickers from beside him and Terzo snatches the mints from Primo before popping one in his mouth. It does get rid of the taste of vomit from his tongue so he guesses he can’t be too mad.
The hotel towers over them, pristine white walls flourished with wide balconies and a blue sign with the words Paradisus in calligraphy.
Terzo hardly pays attention as they check in until he watches the receptionist only hand over two room keys.
“What-” Terzo starts, looking at Copia who’s rocking on his heels, “why aren’t there four room keys?”
“Because it was quite expensive and we could only afford two rooms.”
“So I’m sharing?”
“With me!” Copia declares, grabbing their room key off of Primo.
Terzo huffs, stalking after them into the lift, squeezing between their luggage as they go up four floors.
“We’ll meet you at the pool in an hour,” Secondo says as he and Primo disappear into their room. Terzo’s not sure if he’s agreeing to that, he really does need a nap.
Copia unlocks the door to their room before opening it, and Terzo steps in gingerly, finally taking off his sunglasses. The room is nice and spacious, with two small double beds and a tv at the other end.
“This is nice,” he says, leaving his suitcase at the end of one of the beds. He walks out onto the balcony, looks down to see a large pool, blue water shimmering with sun beds lined around it. It is already busy with people but there is no shrill sound of kids screaming in the pool or running around, and he thanks god that his brothers booked an adult hotel so that he does not have to deal with kids splashing about in the pool when he is doing his laps.
“Are you going to call Alpha?” Copia says from behind him, and Terzo turns to see Copia already unpacking, putting his neatly folded clothes in the drawers by the TV.
“I suppose,” Terzo says, collecting his phone from the carry on bag Copia left on his bed. He sits on the end of his own bed, bouncing up and down a little to observe the comfiness of it.
“Face time him.”
Terzo looks up from the bed and frowns at his brother. “Now? I think he’s at work.”
“Well, then he’ll miss it and call us back later.”
Us? Terzo doesn’t remember agreeing to letting Copia sit in on the call, but when Copia looks over at him, eyes big, Terzo doesn’t have the heart to tell him to fuck off. Mostly.
“Okay,” he says, and Copia beams, sitting down next to him causing Terzo to bounce upwards. He opens his phone and finds Alpha’s name before pressing the Face time button. He does not expect Alpha to pick up when he starts work at 8am and it is currently 11. The calls rings out for a few moments before the screen opens up to a dark bedroom, and Terzo can just about make out Alpha’s red pointed ears peeking over the top of the duvet.
“‘llo?” Alpha’s voice is muffled under the blanket. Copia leans over Terzo a little to get in frame and says “hey!” but Terzo quickly interrupts him before Alpha can answer.
“Why aren’t you at work?”
There’s a gigantic sigh before Alpha finally pulls down the cover, revealing his sleepy face, his eyes half lidded.
“Hello to you too,” he says with a yawn before his eyes flick across the screen. “Oh, hey Copia.”
Terzo scowls, moving to shoo Copia away who begrudgingly leaves, locking himself in the bathroom.
“Well?” Terzo says, turning back to the screen.
“I just-,” Alpha pauses, sniffling dramatically, “it’s been really hard having to be here without you-”
“I haven’t died-”
“-I had to take the day off work because I’ve been so emotional.”
Terzo lifts a brow, and Alpha sighs, dramatically plopping his head down on his arm.
“Fine. I had a big night out.”
Terzo is not surprised by that, but he is surprised Alpha went out on a work night. He opens his mouth to scold him, only there’s movement on the screen and he watches as someone moves behind Alpha before hooking their chin over Alpha’s shoulder. Cumulus. That’s new. As far as he was aware they were just roommates.
“Hey Terzo,” she says, beaming at him over Alpha’s shoulder, her curly hair brushing her eyes.
“Hey,” Terzo says, frowning a little. “Are you two-”
“How are your brothers?” Alpha interrupts, “do you have your own room?”
“No, I’m sharing with Copia,” Terzo says, “and he’s already annoying the hell out of me.”
There’s a small hey from the bathroom, and Terzo laughs quietly.
“How long are you there for again?”
“A week. I’m kind of mad at myself for agreeing.”
“Ugh,” Alpha groans, “please don’t make this whole week into a pity party. Go and enjoy yourself.”
Terzo scowls, eyes sliding from Alpha to look at Cumulus, feeling a bit vulnerable with her there. He swallows thickly. “I would not do such a thing.”
“Well, I don’t want a phone call from one of your brothers telling me they’ve pulled you out a ditch on the side of the road because you’re too hammered to get back to your room.”
Terzo opens his mouth to argue but Alpha carries on, ignoring him.
“And don’t drunk dial me and start crying because I won’t come and get you.” Which Terzo knows isn’t true, because Alpha already told him before he’d left that he would. But he’s not happy that Alpha has to lay him so bare when they’re in company.
“Oh don’t be like that,” Alpha says, acknowledging the frown on his face. “We’re all friends here.”
Terzo supposes that’s true, and he does not suspect Cumulus is the type of girl to make fun of him behind his back.
“Sì, I know,” he sighs, watching Cumulus give him a big smile from over Alpha’s shoulder. “I can’t promise anything.”
“Just go and have fun. Have a swim and some cocktails and get laid. God knows you need it.”
Terzo huffs. “Bye Alpha.”
Alpha cackles. “Remember a condom!”
Terzo ends the call abruptly, throwing his phone back onto the bed before he scrubs at his face. Maybe Alpha’s right, he needs to just let loose and have fun. But his hands are trembling slightly. He doesn’t know if it’s left-over nerves from the plane or if he’s just overwhelmed, and he’s starting to hate the way his bangs are falling in his face.
Copia emerges from the bathroom, a questioning look on his face when he takes in the sight of Terzo looking disheveled.
“I’m gonna get ready for the pool,” he says, eyeing Terzo. “Do you want to take the bathroom or..?”
Terzo doesn’t reply, just snatches his things from his suitcase before stalking into the bathroom, locking the door behind him, throwing his shorts onto the empty toilet seat.
He glances at himself at the mirror, takes in the bloodshot eyes and the greasy bangs dropping over his forehead. His white eye is sharp but just highlights the dark circles under his eyes. He is a mess. He feels it too, with the headache still thundering through his skull to a metronome he was hoping would stop singing by now. He sniffs, places his wash bag down on the side before splashing his face with water, hoping to resurrect some life into himself.
He did not come here to wallow. He did not come here to annoy his brothers or complain about the heat or contemplate if eight floors is high enough to jump. He is going to make the most of his time here, soak up the sun and swim in the pool and drink as many cocktails as he can stomach. He is not going to linger on his usual brooding thoughts because he has nowhere to coddle those self-deprecating remarks when he does not have a room to himself. He tells himself this, tries to be strict and scold himself, because if his brothers even get a whiff that he is not doing good they’ll want to talk. And he’d much rather be taken out back and shot. He grips the sink as water drips down his nose and he watches himself, as though he has been split into two separate entities, and he’s not sure which version of Terzo will exit the bathroom if he doesn’t get himself under control.
Talking to Alpha did not help. It just made him long to be back at home, to be somewhere he is familiar with, somewhere he has people to talk to. He supposes he should post on the group chat that he got here safely and he misses everyone and blah blah blah but he does not think he can deal with their excitable, gushing jealousy that he got to go on holiday whilst they’re still stuck at their jobs.
He takes a deep breath and holds it in his chest for a few minutes, willing himself not to become panicked over nothing. He is on holiday. He is meant to be enjoying himself. He lets out a breath and thinks about the way his clothes are clinging to him, sticky with sweat under his arms and down his back.
He grabs his hairbrush from his bag and some gel, and combs his hair backwards, slicking it back to his liking. He has to at least look somewhat human if he is going to go back out into the world. He slowly unbuttons his shirt, revealing the dark hair brushing his chest, and he lets out a sigh of relief when the shirt falls away. Putting on his swim shorts, he straightens back up, glancing at himself in the mirror again. His body is still in good shape, even after all these years, but he frowns at the way his shorts hang a little loose on his hips.
He brushes his teeth to get rid of the leftover fermenting taste of vomit in his mouth then meets his own eyes.
I can do this, he thinks, go and have a good time.
When he enters back into the bedroom, he finds Copia sifting through his own suitcase, only now he’s dressed in a blue speedo, and Terzo shrieks, bubbling with laughter.
“What- what the fuck are you wearing?”
Copia frowns, looking up at him. “What do you mean?”
“Why are you wearing those?”
“Cumulus picked them out for me,” Copia says with a smile, shrugging.
“For a family holiday?”
“You’re just jealous you don’t look this good.”
Terzo rolls his eyes, throwing his sweaty shirt at Copia who squawks.
They get changed quickly, putting on some decent clothes over their swimsuits, ready to emerge out into the hotel downstairs, and Terzo has to hold in a grin when he sees Copia’s hat. It’s bright red with the words ‘aw rats’ embroidered across the front. He guesses he can’t tease his brother about everything. They aren’t kids anymore, hell they haven’t been young for a while.
Once they’re done, they trudge next door to their brothers’ room, where Terzo knocks on it none too gently, too impatient to meet them downstairs. Primo lets them in without saying a word, but it becomes apparent straight away that neither of them are ready to go down to the pool. And worse, they have a better room, with bigger beds and an en suite with a bath.
“How come you get the better room?” Copia asks, but Primo just shrugs.
“We’re older.”
Terzo scowls, the beating in his head getting louder, and he unceremoniously drapes himself across the closest bed with a grunt.
“My head hurts,” he groans, rubbing at his temple, and Secondo tuts.
“You can’t complain when it’s your own fault. If you had just been sensible for once in your life-”
“Shut it,” Primo interjects before Terzo can even open his mouth to reply, instead throwing a water bottle at him, landing squarely on Terzo’s chest, and he lets out a quiet oof. He sits up a little and uncaps the bottle before taking a longing pull. The water is cold and it soothes his dry mouth, and he hopes it will quell his headache in time.
“How come you get this?” Copia says, pointing to a Bluetooth stereo underneath the TV. “We didn’t get that.” He pauses before turning to Primo, lifting a brow. “Do you even know how to use that?”
Terzo snickers and Primo crosses his arms, frowning. He doesn’t say anything, but Terzo knows that his answer is no.
Secondo stands from where he was rooting around in his suitcase before he abruptly takes his top off, complaining about the heat, and Terzo makes a noise of disgust.
“Your tits are saggy.”
So much for not picking on his brothers. Secondo glowers at him, and Terzo doesn’t have enough time to react before he finds himself in a headlock. He gasps, slapping at the thick arm around his neck but Secondo doesn’t let up and he can hear Copia laughing.
“Hey,” he yells, though its breathless when his air supply is being cut off. “Get off of me.”
“Then quit being a pain in the ass.”
Terzo wants to say something back but finds his head is getting increasingly fuzzier, so instead he gives in, falling limp in Secondo’s grip. Secondo abruptly lets go of him and he folds forwards, gasping for breath.
“Secondo, you’re too old for that,” Primo says, sighing dramatically at their behavior. “You’re not 30 anymore.”
“Yeah, your hairline got that memo thirty years ago,” Terzo says.
Secondo pushes him off the bed.
Terzo lands in a heap, slamming his hip against the floor with a thud, and pain immediately starts to flare up his side. He’s too old for this too, it seems.
“Seriously, if you keep carrying on, I’m gonna make you room together,” Primo threatens but Secondo just shrugs. Terzo is still trying to catch his breath, and he manages to get to his feet, wincing at the pain in his back.
“Can we just go down to the pool now,” Copia complains, looking between his brothers. “It’s too hot to be sat up here and I want to swim.”
Terzo rubs at his back and wonders if swimming will help. He hopes he hasn’t got a bruise.
By the time they make it down to the pool, all of the sunbeds are already taken, and Terzo huffs, looking for a place for them to sit. Copia finds a patch of grass big enough to house all four of them, and after setting down their towels, they strip off into swimwear and lounge back against the floor, squinting under the sun. Copia is the last to change, and as he reveals his awful speedos, Primo and Secondo immediately burst into laughter, and he pouts, squinting his eyes at them as Terzo muffles his own laughter in the back of his hand.
“You guys are so mean to me,” Copia mutters, turning swiftly away from them. “I’m going in the pool.” And then he disappears, heading towards the water.
“What’s with those speedos?” Secondo asks with a smug smile.
“Cumulus helped him pick them,” Terzo says with a shrug, lying back on his elbows. The sun is now at its peak, and Terzo can feel the heat blaze down on him in waves, causing sweat to already bead across his brow. He wipes it away hastily and turns his attention back to his brothers. Secondo has a cigar in his mouth, a lighter in his hand, and Terzo guffaws, pointing to the sign next to them that reads no smoking.
“They don’t mean that,” Secondo says, lighting his cigar up, “we’re outside and there’s plenty of ventilation.”
Terzo guesses that makes sense. The smell of tobacco hits him immediately, and he goes back to longing for a cigarette. He’s been so good though, three whole years without a single puff, but he’s had a very hard day. What will one drag do?
“Let me have a go,” he says, and Secondo frowns, blowing the smoke out of his mouth in thick plumes.
“I thought you quit.”
“I have.”
“Then no.”
“I’ve had a very long day,” Terzo stresses, tries to make his eyes round in hopes Secondo will give in. It seems to work because Secondo sighs and he hands the cigar to Terzo who accepts it gratefully.
Terzo sits back, fits the cigar in his mouth and takes a deep drag. It doesn’t taste like a cigarette but it’s close enough, and he holds the smoke in his lungs for a moment, closing his eyes as he relishes in the burn at the back of his throat.
The sound of a woman clearing their throat makes him jump, and he opens his eyes and looks up to see a lifeguard, her hands on her hips as she gives him a deep frown. She points at the sign.
“This is a no smoking area. Please put that out.”
Secondo barks a laugh and Terzo apologises profusely, smoke pluming from his mouth as he puts the cigar out on the brick next to them, the tips of his ears burning white hot not for the first time today. So much for having a good time. Not only has he broken his sobriety, but he also got humiliated in the process. He grumbles to himself, ignoring his brother’s sifting laughter. He lies back, trying to cool his embarrassed cheeks with the backs of his hands, though they are sweaty and of not much use.
Copia gets out of the pool at some point, shaking his hair like a dog, and he plops down next to Terzo, rambling about the pool and how it’s cool and deep enough to swim in properly. Terzo remembers quickly to put sun cream on, and covers himself before he can burn, watching Secondo jump in the pool.
Copia is talking to him but he’s not listening, instead focused on a woman getting up from her sunbed. It seems she is leaving, and as soon as she goes and her towel is swept from the lounger, Primo springs upwards. Terzo doesn’t think he’s ever seen Primo move so fast in his life, but he manages to snag the sunbed before anyone else, and promptly lies down with a sigh loud enough Terzo can hear.
The grass is imprinting against Terzo’s elbows from where he is lying on them. He squints under the sun, thanking that Copia brought his sunglasses. There’s a nudge to his thigh, and he frowns, looking down to see Copia staring at him. He holds up a bottle of suncream. “Will you do my back?”
“No,” Terzo says, closing his eyes and tilting his head back.
“Please?”
“No.”
Terzo can feel the heat stick to his collarbones, the hair on his chest slightly damp. He doesn’t think he’ll stay out here for too long because he’s still got a headache and he doesn’t think staying out in the sun will help it.
There’s another nudge to his thigh. “I said no, Copia.”
“The lifeguard is staring at you.”
Terzo tries to be nonchalant about it, but his eyes immediately snap to the lifeguard tower. There sits a ghoul, his white hair tied up in a bun, dark eyes covered by a thin pair of sunglasses. He’s gorgeous, and Terzo watches the way his thick biceps flex as he shows some women which direction the toilets are, his white fangs sticking over his lip in a smile, and Terzo almost feels himself swoon at the sight of such a handsome man being only a few feet away from him. The lifeguard lifts up his glasses after a moment, pushing back the loose strands of hair, and his eyes light up as he realises Terzo is staring straight back at him. Terzo’s cheeks heat up, but he can’t look away, glad for the sunglasses sheltering most of his face so he does not look like he is gawking. He smiles slightly, and the ghoul smiles back, bright and wide. Terzo thinks maybe he should go over there, when his vision is suddenly blocked by a hand waving in his face.
“Earth to Terzo.”
Terzo scowls and turns to see Copia grinning at him.
“Why don’t you say hello?” Copia says, lifting an eyebrow, but Terzo scoffs, leaning back and tilting his head to the sky.
“What?” Copia says. “It’s only a suggestion.”
“I came here to relax, Copia,” Terzo says. “Not to get in someone’s pants.”
“You always have to make it about sex,” Copia replies, and Terzo can almost hear the way he rolls his eyes. “Why don’t you start thinking with your heart instead of your dick for once.”
Terzo chooses to ignore that, and he lets his eyes wander back to the lifeguard. The ghoul is no longer looking at him, busy watching a few girls splash about in the pool, but Terzo feels the need to talk to him. To get to know him. He wants to know his name, and suddenly his usual allure is overwhelmed by a deep anxiety he is usually only privy to behind closed doors. He’s a natural charmer, he always has been, even if he is a walking pit of depression. He is good at batting people away nice enough that they are happy to leave; he is good at sucking people in just slightly before eventually letting them go. He can never let anyone become swamped in his black hole, but for a moment, watching the handsome lifeguard, he wonders: what if?
What if this could be more than a fling? What if he went over there and thought with his mind for once, and not his dick like Copia says? He’s probably getting ahead of himself, but he lets himself daydream. Lets the anxiety shudder through him in this newfound thought to be known. To be loved. He watches the ghoul and pretends for a few long moments that maybe he has a chance. That he was being more than friendly when he was giving that smile.
Before the lifeguard can look up and meet his eyes again, Terzo selfishly looks away. He wants to marinate in these thoughts. He wants to watch the guy from a distance, just for a while. His feelings feel jumbled, tied in a knot deep in his bonehouse, and he is unsure how to uncurl it when it is crudely too tight. Copia is talking to him again but he is hardly listening, staring into the cloudless sky, feeling the sun beat on his skin. His headache is still there, pulsing behind his eyes, but he finds he can mostly ignore it now.
“And I keep telling them they don’t need rats; we don’t test on animals in my lab. But they simply won’t listen.”
Terzo turns to his brother with a frown. Copia seems to be talking about his work, which Terzo mostly does not understand other than that he works as a biomedical scientist. He is a nerd, an even bigger nerd than Terzo, and he’s a lecturer.
Terzo sighs. “Are you gonna get laid at all this holiday?”
Copia flashes a grin and leans back on his elbows. “I came here to relax Terzo.”