Perfection

"Can't you keep your hands from each other for five minutes?" he asked.

"Fucking knock," Cam insisted again. Slipping his hand out of Frankie's jeans as discreetly as he could and pinching his hip. Hard. As Frankie continued to vibrate in his arms, with laughter.

"Would you like it if I barged in on you and Anna-Maria when you're tucked in your room. Huh? Don't you know what privacy is?" Cam continued. His irritation growing as Tonio merely gifted him with the same cocky smile that he knew wound Frankie up when it appeared on his face.

Jesus Christ! Talk about pay back.

"I wouldn't be stupid enough to leave the door unlocked," Tonio drawled, both his dialect and accent as thick as mud. "And maybe if I did you would learn something. Pick up some hints!"

"You little-" Tonio laughed and danced back a little as Cam lunged for him. Frankie, still laughing, body blocked him.

"Now stop. No fighting."

"I'm gonna kick his ass," Cam grumbled, this time in English.

"No you're not," Frankie told him firmly. "Not if you want your surprise."

Tonio grinned now, seeing the danger had passed, and caught Cam in a bear hug.

Cam's heart swelled, but he still deliberately mused up Tonio's hair. "Little shit-bag," he said. Or words to that effect.

He was grinning when Tonio pulled back.

"Sorry, Frankie," Tonio said. "We shouldn't argue when you can't understand."

"I wasn't aware humans could speak that fast," Frankie admitted.

"I'm going to wash my hands," Cam muttered and headed for the bathroom. Grinning when he heard Tonio answer.

"Yes, Jesus, please do." And then remember the hair mussing. "Oh, fuck. Schifo!" Followed by Frankie's delighted laugh.

"We'll take the cases," Frankie called and Cam just grunted an acknowledgement. He knew Frankie was up to something and was curious. He hoped they weren't going to be trying to balance their cases on a couple of Vespa's or something.

He wandered towards the open doorway, hearing Tonio's excited voice and Bella's reply.

But when Cam walked into the street, his legs literally went weak and he gasped in shock.

Frankie just beamed at him as he stared in amazement.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Tonio asked excitedly, as he gently stroked the hood of the Ferrari-red, well, Ferrari.

"It's a Ferrari," Cam said stupidly. His tongue felt slightly numb.

"It's a 1972 Daytona," Tonio told him in an awed voice.

"It's a car," Lucia stated, not impressed. "It's even older than Mama."

"She's a beautiful car," Bella corrected in an exaggerated gentle tone, designed to soothe the suddenly offended nearby testosterone carriers. "Very pretty."

"Drives like a dream," Tonio said, and Cam felt himself jolt again.

"You drove it?" he gasped, horrified.

"Only half a mile, just the last three streets. Frankie wouldn't let me drive any further."

Cam turned on Frankie. "He doesn't have a licence yet," he exclaimed. His heart racing, even though both Frankie and Tonio were stood, unharmed, in front of him.

"I know," Frankie admitted. "But he used those gorgeous brown eyes on me, and I couldn't say no." As he pleaded his case, Frankie peered over the dark lenses of his glasses. Ruthlessly using his own gorgeous brown eyes on Cam.

Cam dragged his hands down his face, but then laughed. He felt slightly giddy, but clearly the car, and his boys had survived.

Then he lowered his eyes and gaped at Frankie again, as a sudden, even more shocking, thought hit him. "Frankie. You didn't?"

"It's a hire," Frankie laughed, and rubbed his arm. Reading him easily. "For our drive down the coast. You think I would buy you a classic Ferrari. I'm not that crazy."

At that point, Signor Gastani's door opened, and he joined them. Giving them the benefit of his experience and sitting with a surprisingly boyish grin, in the car.

When Cam offered to take him for a short drive, the grin widened and they took off for twenty minutes around the neighbourhood.

Only five minutes of that was proper driving. The rest was neighbours paying their respects to Signor Gastani, admiring the car, and being reminded just who Cam was.

"Tonio's brother. You know, he lives in England," Signor Gastani would say. Or, "Camillo Russo, you remember when he broke my window/stole some apples from your tree/used to clear the snow from your steps/etc."

Cam switched between feeling as ancient as Signor Gastani, or a teenager again, but it was a fun drive, and he enjoyed Signor Gastani's pleasure.

Promising to drive carefully, when Signor Gastani asked. Although Cam's suspicion was he was more concerned for Frankie, who had clearly made a big impression.

-X

Finally the road trip was underway.

Cam grinned as they purred into the city and continued to smile, even as they sat in the heavy traffic. Both him and Frankie preening at the envious looks from other motorists and people walking by.

They waved regally at honks, and had several conversations with enthusiastic young men on scooters, who all looked interested that it was possible to hire such a car and went zooming off, newly motivated to earn the funds with which to do so.

Still, after moving under three miles in forty-five minutes, Cam decided he'd had enough birthday (next day) posing and swung the car into a narrow street and away from the traffic.

"Whoa, will it fit?" Frankie asked, cautiously tucking his arm in.

"Is a short cut," Cam reassured him, giving him a careless shrug that made Frankie burst out laughing. "Why are you laughing? I won't get lost."

Frankie repeated his shrug, exaggerating it slightly. "You and Tonio are so alike."

Cam grinned. Pleased.

They whizzed through narrow one-way streets, only occasionally slowing for a lazy cat (as all cats assume the right of way), and left the noise and traffic behind.

Cam ignored a slight sense of unease as he turned into a part of town he didn't go to very often, and then heard the unexpected sound of chattering teeth.

He glanced at Frankie, concerned to see he was shivering. Hugging himself, his eyes wide, fearful, and confused on Cam's.

"Hey?" Cam reached across, his concern growing. Frankie's skin was cold.

"How old is Signor Gastani?" Frankie asked in a voice so quiet, Cam hardly heard.

He squeezed Frankie's arm, "Hold on. Just a little while." He concentrated on navigating the tiny streets, before popping suddenly onto a large road. The sea appeared before them and the car filled with warm sunshine.

Cam drove for fifteen minutes. Frankie had uncurled himself and seemed more relaxed, but sad. Gazing at the ocean, his hand resting on Cam's thigh as if he needed the contact.

Cam pulled into a car park that looked over the ocean and the city. Basking and lazy beneath them. He switched off the engine and thought for a moment before taking Frankie's hand, shocked to find it was still ice cold.

He shifted and pulled both of Frankie's hands into his, rubbing them to warm them up. "I'm sorry, are you okay?"

Frankie nodded, giving Cam a weak smile. He rested in the seat and let Cam warm his hands for a moment before speaking.

"One of my favourite city's in Spain, is Barcelona," he began.

"I haven't been."

"I'll take you," Frankie promised softly. "It's a twisty city. Lots of streets and courtyards. Beautiful. But in some places there is an echo. Like an echo of darkness reaching from the past. I don't know how else to explain it."

Cam raised Frankie's hands and kissed each palm. He was warmer now. "Cities have memory's. I believe that."

Frankie only nodded and waited.

Cam sighed. "Signor Gastani is in his mid-nineties, I believe."

"He can't have fought in the war?" Frankie frowned.

Cam looked at the city sadly, his jaw tense. "He wasn't a solider, no. He was fifteen, maybe sixteen, and his brother a year older. They were part of a crowd when his brother was shot."

He gently squeezed Frankie's hands. "September 1943. It was a hard time for Naples. A very hard time. Hardly anyone would still remember, but the city doesn't forget, I don't think."

"He told me yesterday that I reminded him of his brother. Said he was killed by the Germans, but he forgave long ago because they were hardly more than boys themselves. I said I was sorry if I made him sad, but he said it was the opposite. He was excited to see his brother again soon, and meeting me made him happy because his memories were clearer."

"I'm sure he has lots of happy memories as well," Cam reached up and brushed a tear from Frankie's cheek. "Don't be sad. He's an old man who has lived his life well. He's not sad, you shouldn't be."

"I like him."

"Si. I do as well."

They sat for a few moments, with just a couple of quiet sniffles from Frankie as he composed himself.

Cam startled slightly when Frankie spoke again, his thoughts having wandered. "My dad's mother. I don't remember her. I was only a baby when she died, but she was a healer and like a 'wise-woman' in Santería, which is one of the main religions in Cuba."

Cam nodded, encouraging Frankie to continue. Interested to hear a story about Cuba.

"She told my parents that I was sensitive, that's the closest word, but that I should not look too deeply because it would be bad for me. That I was for life, not death, and should bring joy because the darkness would consume me if I went too close. My parents took note of that warning, and when I was fourteen, during our summer in Cuba, I spent some time with a guy who taught me to acknowledge and then release. Does that make sense?"

"Yes," Cam turned his head and narrowed his eyes at Frankie. "Mia told me that you often see the Lady in Blackpool?"

Frankie smiled, "Oh yea. She's nice. She's always there. But you can't stare, or point her out. I just give her a smile and then avoid looking again until I'm leaving. If she's still there, I'll give her a nod. I've no idea how she feels about me, but she always stays for the whole dance."

"It doesn't scare you?"

Frankie shook his head. "She doesn't. The Lady in the Gallery. I think she quite likes being infamous. No, but sometimes I get very strong feelings. That can be unnerving."

He smiled fully now. "My dad's mother also told them that I would meet my soul-mate in my third decade and be happy, looking into eyes the colour of the sea."

Cam snorted out a laugh, "You're making that up."

"I'm not. Ask Mum. I always thought I was going to marry a green-eyed Irish man. The sea around the UK isn't often blue."

Cam burst out laughing. Jesus, he hadn't known he could laugh so much until met Frankie.

"I'm sorry I freaked."

Cam frowned now. "It's not to be sorry. Not ever," he said bluntly. Feeling suddenly cross and uncomfortable. "I love you. All of you. So I do not want to hear sorry from you."

"Not even when you trip over my running shoes?" Frankie asked, making Cam huff out another laugh.

"Then I will demand apology blow jobs," Cam grinned, reaching and running his thumb over Frankie's lips, feeling satisfied when Frankie's eyes widened and he gasped.

"You can't turn me on here," he complained.

Cam sniggered and reached for the ignition. "You'll have to be patient," he teased. The car roared to life and he only just caught Frankie's mumbled, "Bloody sod!"

Cam sat for a moment, the car now purring and vibrating, but then grumbled to himself and turned the key again. He ran his hands down his face and sighed.

"What's wrong?" Frankie asked.

Cam turned and looked at him again. "I wasn't honest," he admitted. "I didn't tell you everything."

"Okay?"

Cam gazed at the sea for a moment. "That street where you were so uncomfortable. I don't know about Signor Gastani, although it would be the right area. But I rarely go there." He took a breath. "I nearly died there."

"What? Cam. What?"

Cam felt his hand grabbed and pressed against Frankie's chest, where his heart was pounding.

"It's okay. I'm right here, safe and sound."

"What happened?" Frankie's eyes were wide with fear.

"Hush. It's okay." Cam stroked a thumb over the exposed skin of Frankie's chest, where his shirt was open. Comforting himself and Frankie.

"I was thirteen, almost fourteen. I delivered a package to one of the gang leaders. It turned out to be proof of the betrayal of one of his men. The man," Cam paused and huffed. "Fuck. I'm older now than he was. Anyway, he knew he wouldn't get out of the city alive, so he wanted payback. He killed the man who turned on him, and then came to find me."

"Why?"

"Because I delivered the package." He leaned back in the seat, shoving his hair back impatiently, his free hand still gripped by Frankie.

"I was warned to hide. The gang would find him before the morning, but he found me first and chased me to that street. It was very run down, not like now. A fire had left some houses in ruins. I wriggled into a tiny space in a basement, under rubble. Trapped if he saw me. I heard him calling and cursing, climbing all over to find me. He was still holding the knife he had used to kill the other man."

"Oh my God," Cam heard the lap-belt click and suddenly his arms were full of Frankie. "Cam, you must have been so scared."

Cam linked his arms around Frankie's waist and pulled him close. Comforted by the warm weight. Frankie's face tucked into his neck.

"I was terrified. I prayed, for the first time in my life, to a God I didn't even understand. Please don't let him find me. Please let me get home to Tonio." Cam's voice broke, surprising him and making him feel embarrassed for a second. Until he remembered this was Frankie. He squeezed him even closer and finished. "It was after that, that our neighbour told her priest we needed help. Just a few weeks before that. She was terrified that I would be killed and she wouldn't have the money to take Tonio on."

Frankie kissed up his neck, then his cheeks. "What happened to the man. The man that was hunting you?"

"He would have ended up in the sea. Once they finished with him. He stole from them you see. It couldn't be allowed."

He smiled as Frankie's trembling hands caught his face and his lips were taken in the gentlest kiss. Then another, and another. Until they were both trembling from arousal, instead of fear.

"Do you think I'm going to be able to drive," Cam asked, lifting his hips a little, his erection brushing Frankie's ass. Then groaning when Frankie caught his bottom lip, gently in his teeth, and tugged slightly. "Fuck. Frankie!"

"In a while," Frankie smirked, and lifted himself. Clambering, slightly clumsily, back to his seat.

Cam sat and took some deep breaths. He had never known such a deep need as this.

"I have a question," Frankie said.

Cam just turned and raised a brow.

"Did the gangs never bother you. After you were taken in by the nuns?"

Cam snorted. "Of course not. Italians can be superstitious, especially when it comes to religion. It doesn't matter whether you believe or not, it's all around you. I was taken in by God. They weren't going to argue with that."

-X

It was early evening when the beautiful car purred it's way down the long driveway to an elegant, but small, hotel looking out over the ocean.

They had been traveling for seven hours, even though large chucks of that were for sights they just couldn't drive past. A few lazy coffee stops, and a long late lunch on a popular beach where Cam had enjoyed watching Frankie enjoy watching the local lads, who were busy preening and posing for the tourists.

"Why am I busting a gut in dance?" Frankie had wondered out loud. "I could just stay here and flex my abs for tourist selfies like these guys."

Cam had caught and kissed Frankie's hand with a smirk. "You have the abs, my beauty, but not the Italian."

"I can practise my Italian."

"Not the language, that's not important. These tourists don't speak Italian. But the accent and the charm. You can't fake that." Cam laughed as Frankie batted his hand away, pretending offense.

"I'm very charming."

"Of course you are," Cam agreed in an exaggerated soothing voice.

"Asshole!"

"See how charming."

There were relieved to arrive though, and looking forward to some proper alone time.

The hotel had been recommended by a friend who described it as intimate, but with enough guests to be interesting. And very LGBTQ+ friendly.

More than friendly, in fact. The website had strong warnings about tolerance, and when they walked into the lobby there was a beautiful artwork effectively saying LGBTQ and every 'plus' you could possibly imagine, over and over.

One, when Cam interpreted it, even Frankie said, "What the hell is that?" in a low voice, immediately whipping out his phone.

Cam was a little shocked, as Frankie usually knew everything about the queer community. He walked to the desk, smiling at Frankie's quiet, "Ah, I see. Of course," behind him.

"Buonasera," Cam smiled at the older man and younger woman behind the desk.

"Welcome. Mr Russo? I am Benito, I am the manager here. This is Lucia, who is in charge of all of us this evening." He looked just past Cam as Frankie joined them. "And this must be Mr Vega-Caro? Welcome."

"We have a sister called Lucia," Frankie smiled at them, and made Cam's heart swell. "It's Frankie, please."

"And Cam," Can confirmed, his voice a little rough. Frankie shot him a questioning look.

"Frankie," Lucia acknowledged, rolling the 'r' beautifully. "Do you like the painting? I noticed you admiring it."

"It's wonderful. So vibrant at first glance, but there are shadows in there as well. It's interesting. Simple at first glance, but I think not very simple at all."

"My husband is a brilliant artist," Cam told them proudly as Frankie beamed at him.

"How wonderful," Benito said as he handed them both a bottle of chilled water, which they gratefully accepted. "You will have lots of inspiration here. That work was created by a group that use our facilities to meet once a week. Young people who have struggled to find their place, or to be accepted. You're welcome to search for any materials you need if you have the need to create." He said 'create' with a wink and a flamboyant wave of his hand.

"I brought some things, but thank you."

They were efficiently escorted to their room by Benito. Who told them more of the local village, a hippie stronghold (not the famous one), with the sea in front of it and the forests behind.

Of the 'safe space' that the village had become, and how the hotel had become part of that. The art and counselling that the hotel provided space for.

A run down of the staff members, the menu, and activities available.

Finished with an introduction, via his phone, to his wife, three kids, a dogs and a goat. With a solid history of all (the goat had lived a very interesting life).

Cam's head was spinning when Benito finally left the room advising thirty minutes and their light super would be ready for them.

He turned and found Frankie collapsed on the bed, in hysterical, silent laughter.

"Oh my God," Cam exclaimed. Bending to pick up a pillow that Frankie had knocked to the floor.

Frankie splayed on the bed, holding his stomach. "I love him. Thank goodness you're spoken for. He would be exactly your type if he wasn't straight!" Frankie half wept, shaking with laughter.

Cam just shook his head and threw the pillow at him.

A couple of hours later they were fed, watered, and after a stroll around the beautiful gardens, back in their room.

Benito, who Frankie declared was most definitely the perky-ist person Frankie had ever met. (Lovingly leaving Cam to translate the word 'perky' to Benito, who was delighted and found it hilarious). Had persuaded them to sign up for ocean paddle boarding the next afternoon.

He had been aiming for windsurfing, but when they explained their jobs, and Cam's recent back injury, he had relented. Paddle boarding it was.