“Matteo.” I said, trying to wake him up. 

 He rolled over almost onto the floor, and I used my thigh to catch him and keep him on the mattress.  

“Matteo, wake up. You almost fell off my bed, and I made you dinner.” I said, a little louder. 

Opening a single eye, he looked at me, his eyes wandering down my body, taking in what I was wearing. 

“Mmm, you had me at dinner.” He muttered and stretched out completely on my bed, becoming very aware that my thigh was holding him on the bed. “Sorry!” He said, moving over a little before sitting all the way up. 

I noticed the pillow he had stolen before was returned to the bed, and the one he tried to steal was gone now. To him, the colour of the pillow case would be the same, to me they were just slightly different, hardly noticeable. 

Taking a step away from the bed, Matteo sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. 

“Caio, can I ask you for something?”

“Depends what it is.”

“It’s nothing bad, just may be uncomfortable for a moment.”

“Alright, what is it?”

“Come here and turn around.”

I came closer and turned around. I had nothing to fear from Matteo. He scooted forward and wrapped his arm around my waist, his face pressed into my back. He was just hugging me. 

“Matteo?”

“Shhh. Just for a moment, please.”

 I stayed quiet, and he pulled back a few minutes later. 

“Sorry, Caio. I just needed some human contact.” He said, fixing my shirt from the back. 

“Don’t apologize Matteo. It’s a very human need, and I understand it.” I found myself saying to him. I took a few steps forward. “Anyway, dinner is done.”

I left my room, barely having enough time to forget the feeling of his arms around me. He came out on the crutches and his sleepy soft demeanour changed. He just looked miserable to have the crutches under his arms again.

Sitting at the table, I brought his dinner to him, and he sighed. 

“I’ll ask Alessio what is the best thing for wrapping your crutches. Then I’ll fix them.” I said. 

“Thank you.”

He took a bite of the pot roast I made and paused. 

“Caio, This is delicious.” He said, before taking another bite and humming. Watching Matteo’s lips wrap around the fork and enjoy something I made left a strange feeling in my chest I wasn’t familiar with. 

Matteo set down his fork and looked at me. “Have you already eaten?” 

“Huh?” 

“You’re watching me, Caio.” He muttered, before he really looked at me. Our eyes met fully. “If you’ve already eaten, sit with me?”

“I haven’t. Let me grab a plate.” I said, turning to go make one. I only made Matteo a plate and then went to wake him. Completely ignoring myself. Filling my plate and grabbing a fork and knife, I sat down at the table. 

I ate slowly, flicking my eyes up every now and again to watch him eat. He finished before me.

“Caio, that was amazing! If I wasn’t stuffed, I would go back for more.” He groaned, Lifting his shirt slightly to pat his full stomach. 

Finishing the bite in my mouth, I swallowed and caught Matteo watching me. I didn’t point it out. There was no reason to. He looked away the minute he saw me catch him.

“I’m glad you enjoyed dinner. I’m sure it’s pretty bland compared to what you can make, but good regardless.”

“Not true, not at all.” He laughed. 

I finished eating and stood up to take his plate along with mine. 

“I can do it.”

“I know. But it’s easier for me, and I don’t want you to hurt your underarms with the crutches.”

“Stupid Alessio.” He grunted. 

“He is the doctor. What he says goes.” I muttered. 

“It just fucking sucks, Caio. He took the rest of my independence away.”

“It will be over before you know it.” I said, walking to the sink with the dishes. I set them down inside the sink and turned when I heard Matteo get up. 

“I’m going to attempt to take a bath. Shower seems too impossible, but a bath that might be manageable.”

“Alright. If you get stuck—--”

“No. No. Don’t put that energy out there Caio.” He hissed, heading down to the bathroom. 

I shook my head. I wasn’t sure how he was going to manage to get in and out of the bath. “There should be a towel on the back of the door for when you’re done, Matteo.”

“Ok!”

Heading to the bedroom, I changed from my long sleeve into a short sleeve and more comfortable pants. I had a good feeling; I was going to have to play bath rescue. If I didn’t, I was going to be amazed. Plugging my phone in, I laid back on my bed, tucking the pillow Matteo had brought back under my head. 

I laid there just watching the ceiling until I heard Matteo call me. 

“Caio?”

“Are you stuck?” I replied, chuckling.

“No…. Alright, well. Kind of.”

“Do you need my help?” I asked. 

“I’m naked, and it would just be really—--”

“Matteo, do you need my help?” I asked again, part of me hoping he would say no to save us from the awkward experience.

“Yes. I need help. But! If you don’t want to do it, just call Alessio and tell him I’m begging for his help.”

“Here I come.” I said, getting off the bed and making my way to the bathroom.

Opening the door, Matteo had a hand covering his junk and his cheeks were flushed pink, probably from embarrassment. Closing the door, I grabbed the towel and passed it to him. He did his best to cover himself. 

“Just help me stand up and get me the crutches.”

“Wet floor and crutches. I see more broken bones for you.” I muttered, bending down and lifting him out. The towel rode up when I lifted him and my right hand was touching his bare, damp thigh. His cheeks went scarlet.

“Put me down, Caio!”

“I will. Hold on.” I muttered. 

Walking out of the bathroom room after opening the door, I carried Matteo to the spare room and put him down on the bed. 

“I’ll go grab your crutches and bring them to you.”

Leaving the room, I adjusted myself and went to get his crutches. He was still in the same spot when I came back, the towel even more firmly wrapped around him. Setting them against the bed, I left to give him privacy.  

Sitting down on the couch, I flicked the tv on and browsed the channels. Remembering the dishes, I got up, walking to the kitchen, walking past Matteo’s door. The sound of unmistakable grunts, soft but not enough to be ignored, flooded my ears. 

Shaking my head, I was sure there was no way that he was actually doing what I thought he was in there. Surely he worried I might hear him. Chalking it up to him, grunting because he was struggling to get clothing on, I washed the dishes. 

Plopping back down the couch, Matteo came out halfway through the movie I was watching, his shoulder length hair in disarray and his pupils were wide. The smell of sex clung to his freshly showered skin. 

He sat down on the couch beside me and laid his crutches down. 

“Thank you for helping me.”

Readjusting on the couch to give him more space, I finally replied. “Of course, no need to mention it.”

He got back up after a few more minutes and he and his crutches made their way to the kitchen, and I heard him open the fridge. 

“Matteo?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you looking for something in particular?”

“A snack?” He said it sounded more like a question, then an answer.

“What kind of snack?”

“A sweet snack, like chocolate or ice cream.”

“There is both chocolate and ice cream in the freezer. Help yourself.”

Matteo returned on a single crutch with a bowl of ice cream in his free hand. I watched him savour the ice cream before he pulled a chunk of chocolate out of the pocket of his sweater. He crunched on the chocolate until it was gone and then relaxed into the couch. He set the bowl on the table beside the couch. 

He moved around, trying to get comfortable through the rest of the movie I was trying to watch. 

“Matteo. Give me your feet.” I groaned.

“What?” He said, looking confused as he adjusted his foot again. 

“You and your feet are very twitchy.” 

“Sorry, trying to get comfortable without being right against you.”

“If being against me will stop your restlessness, then feel free.” I said. 

He looked at me, debating his choices. “Forgive me for this, then.” He mumbled, scooting closer to me, and putting his feet on the other arm of the couch, and his back and shoulder propped against my shoulder. It wasn’t intimate in any way, and very quickly proved effective against his twitching. 

A few minutes later, he was softly snoring, his head resting on the back of the couch. If I moved, this kid was toast. He would fall back onto the couch. Carefully, I leaned further back into the couch and moved Matteo so that his back and shoulders were on my legs. It impressed me he didn’t even wake up.

When he was a younger teen, he was a terribly light sleeper. It was mildly nice to see that had changed on him. But I knew that already because I had picked him up off the couch and tucked him into the spare room once already. 

Studying Matteo’s face, he looked like his mother, but not the way Alessio looked like Andrei. There were some features you could see, but his true carbon copy was his grandfather. Matteo was a spitting image of their grandfather. If he cut his dark hair, it would be like his grandfather walked again. Alessio had been the same way. He liked his longer than ‘normal’ hair for a while, now he kept it short and styled. 

Touching a few strands of his dark wavy hair, he stirred, but only to turn slightly and scoot down. He settled again after that and I touched a few more strands of his hair. It was soft to the touch, but very tangled. I had to fight the urge to run my fingers through his hair. I wanted to in the worst way. He would certainly wake up then. I wanted to let him rest a little before I woke him up.