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Language:
English
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Part 104 of one shots
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Published:
2025-04-16
Words:
970
Chapters:
1/1
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14
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31
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I don't like summers

Summary:

Mind the trigger warnings! Do not read when this topic affects you in any way!

I read that today is Semicolon Day, and was thinking about someone openly talking about their own mental health issues 💙

Notes:

This story has been on my computer for more than a year. It is part of this circle of one shots:

Lines on your skin
and
Dark days, bright hope

Work Text:

Packing for their summer vacation in Italy, Elio noticed their very different sets of emotions regarding their approaching time away. While he himself was giddy and overjoyed, chatting away about which clothes to pack and which wouldn’t be needed at all, discarding all his long-sleeved shirts, and mindlessly throwing them back into the dresser, Oliver seemed to grow quieter by the minute.

“Do you need a moment?” Elio touched Oliver’s wrist with the tips of his fingers.

“Uhm, yeah. Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.” Elio kissed Oliver’s cheek and left the bedroom, allowing his boyfriend to process and write about his emotions. His therapist had given him the task to do so, especially with darker emotions, and Elio who had the unique ability to access and show his feelings easily, supported him in every way he could. One of the first things he had done was gifting Oliver a diary like his own, and on some nights both men found themselves sitting on opposite ends of their couch, feet touching under a blanket, scribbling down whatever was on their minds.

 

 

“I’m not okay.” Oliver’s voice came from across the room, standing in the doorway of their living room.

“Huh?” Elio looked up from his book, trying to get a sense of his whereabouts and how much time had passed since their earlier conversation.

“I’m… I’m not okay.”

The breaking of the otherwise so strong and self-confident voice was what made Elio react. He was on his feet in a second, wrapping his arms about his taller boyfriend who suddenly seemed to crumble in on himself. He carefully led him over to the couch, sat him down, and continued to simply hold him.

“I’m sorry,” Oliver finally managed to say, tears slowly drying.

“There is no need to be sorry.” Elio ran soothing circles over his shoulder blades. “Will you tell me what caused this? Did something happen today that might have triggered you?”

“No, not really. Or… maybe packing clothes for Italy, or rather the thought about not wearing any.” Oliver leaned into Elio with a heavy sigh.  “I didn’t even realise I wasn’t doing well today until I said it out loud. I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Elio shook his head, grabbed Oliver by his shoulders and hoisted him into a position so that they could look into each other’s eyes. Which was not exactly an easy task, given their different physical forms.

“Nuh-uh, don’t even think about it. I think you are so brave, forcing yourself through those intense therapy sessions again and again. You told me that you had difficulties dealing with your emotions, but this, what just happened, was a very honest reaction. I’m proud of you, and you should be, too.” He used the pad of his thumb to brush away the moisture under Oliver’s left eye, then brought their foreheads together. “I love you. Thank you for telling me you were not doing great today.”

There was a hint of a smile on Oliver’s lips. “I love you, too.”

“I don’t know if I’m allowed to ask you this, or whether it’s something you prefer to discuss with your therapist, but… given how you dealt with dark emotions in the past… did voicing them help?”

Oliver licked his lower lip, sank his teeth into the wet flesh. Elio watched his right hand absentmindedly brush over the fabric of the left sleeve of his shirt.

There was no need to talk about why he still preferred hiding his arms, even when it was hot outside, even when they were on vacation in Italy, and despite the very understanding Perlman parents who had simply hugged him wordlessly that time during their first visit as a couple, when Elio had finally managed to coax him outside and removed his shirt by the poolside.

 

Elio also remembered the first time in their new-found relationship they had undressed each other, and Oliver had self-consciously stopped Elio’s eager fingers which had been on their way to his stomach. “I’m no longer twenty.”

Elio had blinked at him, not quite understanding in his state of lusty haze and excitement what the gorgeous man in front of him was trying to tell him.

“I don’t look the same,” Oliver had tried to explain in a shy voice, averting his eyes.

“Neither do I.” Elio had taken Oliver’s hand and placed it on the dip over his own hips he had never liked much about himself but remembered that Oliver had been very keen about marking this place with hickeys when they had been together that first summer. “But, please, let me touch you. Let me love you,” Elio had begged.

The sound of Oliver’s hitched breath for every inch of exposed skin Elio had freed from the confines of clothing items would be forever engraved in his memory, how Oliver had trembled and swallowed visibly when Elio carefully kissed the healed scar tissue he kept carefully hidden from intruding eyes.

 

 

“…maybe. But I might need to think about it later. I just feel too exhausted right now. Will you… would you like to take a nap with me?”

It was such an Oliver-thing to carefully ask for something he really wished for, yet feared he might cause any sort of inconvenience.

“You know how much I love taking naps with you. Always reminds me of summers in Italy, even on cold winter days.” Elio stretched his arms over his head with a dreamy smile on his lips. “Come on.” He grabbed Oliver’s hand and pulled him back to their bedroom.

Under the covers, clad only in boxer shorts and well-worn T-shirts, legs and hands intertwined, Elio watched over his sleeping boyfriend. He placed one last gentle kiss on Oliver’s wrist, then closed his eyes and snuggled closer.

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