Chapter 34: Marco- fucking- Chen

Third POV

In a literal flash, Elia’s expression changed. The wronged, angry, snarling face vanished entirely. He jumped off the sofa, his posture softening into something incredibly cute and harmless, and rushed straight toward the entryway. He grabbed onto Orso’s arm, hugging it tightly against his chest, leaning his head against the older man’s shoulder.

"Orso," Elia whined, pointing a finger back at the living room. "Marc is bullying me again."

Orso paused in the hallway, looking down at the boy clinging to his arm. He gave a very faint, small side smile to Elia. Then, he lifted his head and looked past the boy, noticing the new people standing inside the room.

Orso nodded his head slightly and greeted them in a steady voice. "Hello."

Tony, as usual, was the first one to speak. He stepped forward with a bright, easy smile. "Hi. Tony here."

James, who had been quietly standing near the hallway arch this entire time, went second. He offered a polite nod. "Hello. James."

Orso smiled lightly, maintaining his calm demeanor. "Orso."

Tony’s eyes fell into deep contemplation for a moment. He stared at the large man standing by the door. The name clicked somewhere in the back of his mind, and he found himself wondering exactly where he had heard the name Orso before. Before he could trace the memory back to its roots, a loud clap echoed from the kitchen area.

Marco was standing by the counter, clapping his hands together once to get everyone’s attention. "Let’s eat now that everyone is here," Marco announced, moving to carry the plates.

The tension in the living room slowly dissolved into small talk here and there. They all moved away from the sofas and gathered around the dining area. The table was large enough to fit them all comfortably, and they took their seats as Marco finished bringing the food over from the kitchen.

The seating arrangement happened naturally. Tony and James sat down together on one side of the long wooden table. Elia and Orso took the seats directly across from them on the other side. That left only one single seat empty, positioned right at the head of the table.

As Marco finally sat down in the lonely chair, he began to dish out his own food. He wandered his eyes back and forth between the two pairs sitting across from one another. On his left, Tony was leaning in close, whispering something to James that made the quiet man nod. On his right, Elia was happily talking to Orso, completely ignoring the fact that his phone had just been confiscated minutes prior.

This went on for over a minute. Everyone was making small talk, entirely leaving the host out of the conversation.

When Marco simply could not take the isolation anymore, he picked up his plate and slammed it down onto the wooden table. It wasn’t a violent slam, but it was loud enough. The heavy thud cut through the chatter instantly.

Everyone stopped talking. Four pairs of eyes slowly turned to look at him.

Marco looked at the left side of the table, then shifted his gaze to the right side of the table. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Why do I feel like the only single dog here?"

Tony immediately rolled his eyes, picking up his fork. Across the table, Elia let out a very audible, mocking sneer. James simply smiled lightly, keeping to himself. Orso, well, he remained exactly as Orso always was—completely unresponsive, blinking slowly as he looked at Marco.

Tony leaned his elbows on the table, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He looked right at Marco and replied, "Why don’t you ask your Fabio to come over?"

Before Marco could even open his mouth to defend himself, Tony made a loud, sarcastic ’oh’ sound, tapping his own forehead. "Sorry, I forgot you are miles away from each other. But seriously, how do you just forget about a guy like that? He is handsome, he is rich... name it all. He has everything." Tony leaned in closer, his grin sharpening into something cruel and teasing. "I bet he has already forgotten even your name by now."

Marco’s face darkened instantly. He didn’t say a single word. He just picked up his fork, aggressively stabbed a large, greasy piece of roasted pork from the center platter, and reached directly across the corner of the table. Before Tony could pull back, Marco forcefully shoved the piece of pork right into Tony’s open, smiling mouth.

Marco glared at him, his eyes completely deadpan as Tony chewed in surprise. "Shut the fuck up and eat."

***

Marco’s POV

It was exactly one month and two days since I last saw him. It was also exactly one month and two days since I had last heard someone else say his name out loud. I was doing fine. Or, at the very least, that was the lie I had successfully convinced myself was the truth.

Fabio was supposed to be a closed Chapter. He was a moment of fleeting pleasure, a temporary distraction, and it was over.

Except it was not.

My mind was clearly not done with him. I did not know how to stop thinking about him. His goddamn perfect body, the weight of his hands, his sweet, dirty sounds- they were burned into my memory. I had learned to live with the intrusive thoughts over the past month, and I honestly thought I was coping well.

That was until Tony happened to poke right at my sore spot at the dinner table. Or rather, my sweet spot.

Just hearing his name casually drop from Tony’s mouth sent an unfair, entirely unwanted surge of warmth straight through my chest. It spread out to my whole body in seconds. I swear I actually felt my heart skip a beat right there in the dining chair. When Fabio’s image flashed across my mind, angry, and handsome and perfect, I almost stopped breathing.

Even now, an hour later, as I laid flat on my back in bed gazing up at the motionless ceiling, I could feel it. Something was lacking. There was an empty space in my chest, something heavy and dull that I could not explain with simple words.

There was a moment earlier when I genuinely contemplated picking up my phone and calling him. But what would I even say? ’Yeah, I kinda missed you and haven’t been able to take my mind off you. You wanna come over?’ It was pathetic. I was not that kind of guy. I was Marco- fucking- Chen

I let out a long, heavy sigh. It was probably the ninth time I had done it in the last ten minutes, completely forgetting that I was not alone in the dark room.

"Why do you keep sighing like a dying person?"

Elia’s voice cut through the quiet. The mattress shifted as he sat up beside me in the dark. "You are disturbing my sleep."

I barely even glanced at him in the shadows. I kept my eyes on the ceiling. "Didn’t you say you were going to sleep with Orso?"

Elia went dead silent.

I smirked, pushing myself up so I was sitting too. I reached over and wrapped a heavy arm casually around his shoulder. "Or did he refuse to share the bed with you?"

Elia stiffened instantly under my arm. I knew I was right. Orso had probably kicked him out.

"Of course not," Elia barked, quickly shoving my arm away from him.

"I’m so glad there’s someone other than me who dislikes you," I teased, letting myself fall back against the pillows.

"I’ll just sleep on the sofa," Elia muttered, already throwing the covers off and moving to get out of the bed.

He was fast, but I was faster. I reached out, gripped his arm hard, and yanked him backward. Elia tumbled right back onto the mattress with a surprised yelp. Before he could scramble away, I pulled the thick blanket entirely over us and threw my leg over his, unceremoniously pinning him down to the mattress so he couldn’t move.

"Goodnight, my lovely brother," I said.

I patted his head a few times in the dark and comfortably settled myself into the pillows. Elia wiggled, shouted, and cursed at me from under my leg. He fought for a good five minutes, throwing every insult he knew, until he simply got tired. His breathing eventually slowed, and he fell asleep, leaving me awake with my thoughts once again.