
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1790467.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Glee
  Relationship:
      Original_Male_Character/Original_Male_Character
  Character:
      Original_Male_Character(s)
  Series:
      Part 17 of Leoverse
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-06-15 Words: 4822
****** Wish upon a star ******
by Tabata
Summary
     Alex and Timmy spend St. Lorenzo's night out on the hills, having a
     pic nic and arguing about who popped Alex's cherry first.
Notes
     WARNING: This story is a spin-off sequel for Broken Heart Syndrome.
     This means that, despite not being properly set after BHS (but that's
     only because BHS is probably never going to have a proper ending and
     we'll keep talking about these people forever), it depicts things
     happening way late in the 'verse, and that may be on varying degrees
     of spoiler.
     Alex and Timmy's canon timeline. Here introducing the long-standing,
     neverending, definitive conclusion lacking discussion about Alex's
     real first time.
In Tuscany, the night sky is amazing. It's not that Timmy has never seen a
starry sky before, but here he can see the stars one by one very clearly.
Somehow, in this place the sky is missing the gray overtone it has in Ohio.
Plus, the soft curves of the hills close in around them, making the whole
valley look cozy.
It's the perfect spot to spend the night of the 10th of August, which is some
sort of festivity in Italy. Timmy didn't get all the details, but he doesn't
care much. He needed an excuse to take Alex away from his sewing machine for at
least a couple hours. The next Renaissance Fair is getting closer and that
turned Alex into an hysterical, insult-spitting machine. Those events should be
fun – lots of good food, good wine, weirdly dressed people and bands that play
instruments Timmy had never even heard of before coming to Italy – but Alex
takes them very seriously because he goes to them to sell his clothes.
He's got a little stand and he spends the whole day in it. These past two
months he managed to be present to a lot of this fairs – they are a thing here
in the summer – and Timmy understands that it's a big deal with Alex being
still in high school and everything, but sometimes all that sewing makes Alex
so nervous that he snaps for the smallest thing. Timmy learned from Cody and
Vince to just disappear when that happens.
“What was the name of that saint again?” Timmy asks, sitting down on the plaid
they have laid down on a nice spot of grass a few miles away from the farm, and
he passes him one bottle of his weird juices. Timmy would be willing to play
the evil boyfriend and get beers for him, but Alex doesn't like beer. If he's
not on a cleanse – which happens more often than not – he prefers to challenge
the law and his parents' wrath by having drinks or wine. But for this occasion
drinks would have been unpractical and Blaine taught him that, when it comes to
buy wine, either you know what you're doing or you don't buy it. So, weird
juice it is.
Alex smiles as he grabs the bottle. The three rings he's wearing clink against
the glass. “Lorenzo,” he answers. “It's not that hard.”
“Lorenzo,” Timmy repeats the name, his strong American accent making impossible
for him to pronounce any letter correctly.
Alex chuckles. “Yes, something like that,” he says, mocking him a little.
Alex's accent is perfect in both languages. He doesn't speak Italian with an
American accent nor he speaks English with an Italian accent. Whatever he says,
it always has a beautiful sound. He's not like his friends at all. When they
hang out with Alex's friends, it always looks like they are in a mafia movie.
Even though Timmy must admit that it's quite funny to listen to them.
“So, how does it work, exactly?” Timmy asks again, as he rummages into their
picnic basket and takes out their dinner. After all the summers spent here, he
learned that in Italy you just don't make a couple of sandwiches and go in the
woods. It's not even an option not only for any mother in the country, but for
every single citizen. It's inconvenient, disappointing and generally not enough
to eat, as if eating was the main point of a romantic picnic – but after all,
eating is almost an art in this place. When he told Vince, his only ally in the
family at the moment, what he wanted to do, the man made them some special kind
of pasta salad with tuna and all kind of vegetables, some kind of cold meat
which is still very pink inside but is very tasty, and he did put some ham and
salami in the basket, but carefully wrapped in a piece of tin foil with bread
to the side, as if it was blasphemy to put the two things together. And now
that he looks closely, Vince gave them fruits and two big pieces of a cake as
well.
“How does what work?” Alex says, eying him from time to time.
“This St. Lorenzo thing,” Timmy answers, taking out the bowl of pasta, the meat
in a tupperware box and some paper plates.
Alex usually doesn't let him do everything as if he was his knight in shining
armor, playing the part of the damsel who's being courted. Besides, Timmy is
everything but courteous. Whenever he wants something, he takes it or asks for
it and expects a positive answer – something he took after Blaine. But tonight,
Alex feels the need to relax, so he's willing to make an exception to his usual
behavior, and he just sits there, waiting for him to set their table. “It's
easy. You look at the sky and when you see a falling star, you make a wish.”
Timmy snorts. “We do that all year long,” he comments. “Was really there a need
to make a festivity out of the chance of seeing a falling star?”
Alex smiles at Timmy's ever present arrogance, something that runs in his
American blood. “We're not taking chances, tonight. We will see a falling star
for sure,” he says. “Actually, many of them. The Earth's orbit goes through
this meteor shower called Perseids every year this very night. So, you see, we
know for a fact that there are gonna be falling stars and we celebrate the
event. It's science!”
“Very romantic,” Timmy chuckles. “Let's go and see a bunch of dead rocks our
planet happens to pass through in this period of the year.”
“It is romantic when you don't say it like that,” Alex glares at him. “So, who
prepared the basket for you?”
Timmy doesn't get mad because Alex just assumed he didn't prepare it. First,
because it's true. And second, because being able to prepare a basket for Alex
has never been is main goal. What's important tonight is that he made this
moment possible for them. And they both know it. “Your father,” he says, and
there's no need to be more precise about which one. “I would have gone for
sandwiches.”
“Of course you would have,” Alex laughs. “You barbarian.”
Timmy laughs too and he starts serving pasta. He knows to put just a spoonful
of it on Alex's plate without insisting on him taking more. Alex is not one of
those teen who starves themselves to death to be thin – he doesn't need that to
be thin because he took after Cody. It's their metabolism – but he likes to
choose what he's gonna eat very carefully. And pasta it's usually not one of
his main choices. So he will eat out of courtesy but there's no point in force-
feed him with it. After all, Vince too made pasta for two because he knows
Timmy eats for two and not because it was actually gonna be the two of them.
They just eat and chitchat as the sky turns darker. By the time the stars come
out one by one, they're having cake. “Ah! Look at that, it's beginning,” Alex
says pushing his plate with his half eaten cake towards Timmy who wolfed down
his ten minutes ago.
The act of grabbing it and eating it comes natural to Timmy. He doesn't even
look down to see what's being passed to him. He's been finishing Alex's food
since Alex was thirteen. “Where?” He asks, his mouth full.
“There!” Alex points at the sky as a tiny dot of light crosses it at a high
speed. It's very fast, but it's clearly visible. “That one was mine though. I
saw it first. Find yours.”
It doesn't take Timmy much time to find his own falling star, since the first
one is followed by hundreds more. For a moment, he can't believe it. He just
looks at the sky as one after the other dots start falling down, as if the glue
keeping them up up had suddenly lost its grip.
He turns around to tell Alex how wonderful that is but he finds him staring at
the sky, a small smile curving his lips, and he falls silent. Alex has always
looked alien to him with his tiny frame and the straight lines of his face that
make him so differently beautiful from any man or woman he has ever seen, and
with the way he dresses, without thinking if what he puts on was intended for a
boy or a girl. Alex defies gender rules while staying a boy all along, and that
confuses Timmy but in a good way.
He decided long ago that he wants to be confused by this creature for the rest
of his life.
“Did you see one?” Alex asks, eventually. He turns to him and smiles relaxed.
Timmy looks at him for a couple of seconds before snapping out of it.
“Yes!” He said. He turns to look at the sky again, just not to lie to him so
plainly. He's relieved when a falling star crosses the sky in that very moment.
“There. That's mine.”
Alex chuckles. “What did you wish for?”
Timmy frowns, looking at him. “Wasn't it against the rules to tell someone what
you wished for?”
It is, but since Timmy doesn't know how the night of San Lorenzo works, Alex
feels free to make some things up. “Usually yes, but during this night the rule
doesn't apply,” he says. “There are so many stars that each and every wish is
registered very carefully by the Great Will of the Universe. It's a matter of
practicality. They are well organized in the Wishing Department during this
time of the year.”
“You're shitting me,” Timmy laughs.
“How dare you?” Alex pretends to be outraged, and then he laughs. “Okay, let's
do this. I tell you my wish and you tell me yours. How about that?”
“Go ahead.”
Alex sighs and sits more straight as if he was about to tell him something of
utter importance. “I wished to finish school with good enough grades to be able
to choose exactly what I want to do next. I wished for you to come back here
every year until we will be very old and very wrinkled and, most importantly, I
wished for the two things to be compatible.”
Timmy looks at Alex's suddenly flushed face and he smiles, tenderly. He bends
over to kiss him sweetly on the lips twice, being chronically unable to get
away from him too soon. “Don't worry, we will make it so,” he comments. “Yet,
that's a very complex thing to wish upon a star.”
“I don't believe in stars magically granting wishes,” he says. “I believe in
people working hard to make their dreams come true. But you never know, right?
So when I trust a star with my hopes and dreams, I tell her exactly what I want
and what I will work hard to achieve, so in case she decides to give me a hand,
she won't do a half assed job.”
Timmy laughs out loud. “You are always so demanding!” He says, amused. “Someday
you will have employees and you'll make their life a living hell, like in that
old movie, The Devil wears... some fashion crap, I don't remember.”
“Prada. The Devil wears Prada,” Alex sighs, shaking his head. They watched that
movie together less than two weeks ago but Timmy's got a brain only when pigs,
cows and Alex are involved. “But if everything goes as I planned, there won't
be any need for me to ask cappuccinos to any poor young girl. But now it's your
turn. What did you wish for?”
Timmy rolls his eyes and sighs. “I have everything I can have right now and I'm
sure I'll have what I still don't have in the near future, so I wished for
something I can't actually change, you know, in case this whole St. Lorenzo
thing worked.”
That's both interesting and mildly worrying because Alex has the feeling he
knows exactly where this is going. “So, what is it?” He asks again.
Timmy looks at him and shrugs. “I wish you didn't have your first time with
that prick Sasha.”
“I knew it!” Alex says before Timmy can even finish speaking. He rolls his
eyes, not really angry but certainly exasperated. “Please, not this again.”
“I don't want to discuss it,” Timmy says, raising both his hands. “You asked me
what I wished for.”
“And I'm regretting it,” Alex replies. “Anyway, that's a wish easily granted
because, as I've already told you many times, my first time wasn't with him.”
Alex never wants to discuss this matter but never misses a chance to say that
very sentence, which always leads them to discuss the matter. “Baby, I don't
wanna fight but it was with him,” Timmy insists, calmly. They are so used to
have this conversation something like twice a month that it's not even an angry
exchange anymore. They just reiterate their lines over and over, more to
restate their positions – lest someone had bulged from last conversation – than
anything else.
“You were there when my first time happened,” Alex says.
“I was there when our first time happened,” Timmy corrects him, predictably.
“And it was the best time of my life but none of us was a virgin.”
“I was,” Alex instantly says with a timing perfected in months and months of
practicing this conversation. It basically started the moment they finished
having complete sex for the first time and never stopped. Timmy can't
understand that, for Alex, all the attempts they had been made before Alex
actually had sex with Sash count as sex. So he had his first time with Timmy,
even if Timmy didn't manage to put it all in.
Timmy sighs, the shower of stars happening right above their head momentarily
forgotten. “Alex, you fooled around with me for the first time, that much is
true,” he nods. “I was your first kiss, I was the first one you made out with,
I was the first one you rubbed against, I was the first one to put fingers in
you – all the fingers you can take, they're all mine – I was the first to give
you head and I'm the first one you gave head to, that much is true. These are
all things I did to you first. And I'm proud of them and happy about them. But
I didn't pop your cherry. It was him, just face it!”
“No!” Alex insists on denying the fact that he had sex with Sasha before he had
it with Timmy with such intensity that one would think his life depends on it.
“You tried all the summer to put it in me when I was fourteen!”
“Yes! And the key word is that I tried,” Timmy replies matter-of-factly. “It
was too soon, you were too young and too tight. It happens, it's no big deal.
And it also happens not to be sex as well.”
“You put the tip in,” Alex comments, his eyes very serious. “It was a big
deal.”
Timmy looks up for a moment. He doesn't have any way with words. It's not his
thing, so half the times he can't even explain himself. “Of course it was a big
deal. I just meant that failing at putting it all in when you were so young
wasn't a big deal,” he corrects himself.
“But the tip went in,” Alex insists.
“Yes, and what was it? An inch?” He snaps, exasperated.
“It was enough for me to feel pain,” Alex pouts, crossing his arms to his
chest.
“But that's so totally not the point. It's not like it was sex just because you
felt pain, Alex. Those were attempts,” Timmy insists, never losing his temper.
At this point, it's not even about the fact that Alex had sex with Sasha first
anymore. It's about defying what sex is, a thing Timmy suspects they will never
agree on. “We actually made attempts at everything else, the difference is that
we managed in every other case. But proper sex? That came later, at my house.”
“Oral sex is proper sex,” Alex informs him.
“You know what I mean,” Timmy snorts. “Do you want me to spell it out for you?
I didn't put the whole length of my cock inside your ass until you were
sixteen, at my house. And that was after that prick Sasha had already done that
very thing six months before. That's it. I don't like it, but at least I'm not
lying to myself about it.”
Alex growls in frustration for a moment and takes a sip of his juice. Timmy
hopes against all odds that he will drop it, but of course it can never happen
so soon. “What you don't understand, Timmy, is that, for me, there's exactly no
difference between your inch and his whole length. So, since you entered first,
you popped my cherry. It's not that difficult.”
“It's not difficult, it's crazy!” Timmy says, while the stars keep falling.
It's a very dramatic background for such an argument. “The whole world would
tell you that there's a very big difference between the tip and the whole
length. Actually, you will tell me that there's a big difference tonight, if I
only dare to stick just the tip. I can already hear you whining because you
want more.”
Timmy loves Alex also because he never gets offended by things like that when
they are fighting. He has a very bad example in Leo – who would scratch
Blaine's eyes out for less – and in Tana – who instantly puts on her outraged
face as soon as he sets things straight. Alex is different. He can get down and
dirty as much as Timmy does, so whenever Timmy stops beating it around the
bush, he just gets along.
“But this is completely different!” Alex says, shaking his head.
“How is this different, Alex? How come the tip was sex back then and it isn't
now?”
“Because that was the first time, you moron!” Alex replies.
“Then, that's it! I was the first to ever put the tip of a cock inside your
ass,” Timmy concedes. “You are allowed to say that. That's true.”
“Good.”
“Still not your first time as the rest of the freaking world intends it.” Alex
screams. It's a low, liberating scream full of frustration that makes Timmy
laugh. “What, no?”
“Can I please be the one deciding which one was my first time and which one
wasn't, since it's my first time?”
“No,” Timmy replies, simply. “Because it's not something you can decide. First
times match a certain description, it's a codified situation. It's like when a
baby is born. You can't look at him and say that for you his mother is still
pregnant. The baby is there, you can't decided he's born the day after.”
Alex frowns. “What are you even talking about?”
Timmy sighs. “Alex, listen to me. If I ask you what was the best fuck you had
and you answer that it was me, and you better do that, that's okay. That's
something you can actually decide. You and no one else can decide what you like
best. But your first time, that's not up for discussion. Maybe you didn't like
it, maybe you regret that it was with him, but you can't arbitrarily decide
that it was with me.”
“I can and I will,” Alex says stubbornly. “And you are too. Right now.”
“What?”
Alex kneels on the plaid and starts putting everything back in the basket. “I'm
gonna have my first time with you tonight. We're gonna pretend we never had sex
together and we didn't even try anything. We just kissed a couple of times and
that's it.”
“Wait, we just kissed a couple of times and you're already giving it to me?”
Timmy says, helping him with the basket. He's not sure this idea will prove
Alex's point – or any point, for that matter – but he likes where this is
going. “I'm not sure I wanna have sex with someone so easy.”
Alex throws a piece of cake's crust at him. “Oh, shut up!” He laughs. “Help me.
Get in the mood.”
Timmy puts the basket on the ground, so they can sit closer to one another on
the plaid. “Alright, so what about Sasha?”
“He never happened of course.”
Timmy would have never imagined that, but the mere thought flips a switch in
his brain. “So you are tight,” he comments, looking at him.
Alex looks back, his eyes darker under his long black eyelash. “Totally not the
point, but yes. Very tight,” he answers, in a low voice that shows how much he
wants this to be the point of it, instead. “I've never touched myself either.”
“Oh, I will do that,” Timmy says in a whisper. He leans on him, his lips
brushing against Alex's. “I guess I can't jump on you right away, then.”
“Nope,” Alex says softly, shaking his head shyly as he has never done before in
his life. “You will have to take it slow.”
Timmy kisses him sweetly, chuckling. “What are you doing?” He says, amused.
“You weren't like this even when you were thirteen. Actually, if I remember
correctly--”
“Can't you just play pretend, for once?” Alex asks, closing his arms around his
neck. “Hm?”
Timmy nods and gently pushes him on the plaid, sliding on him like a snake. Not
only his curves and angles perfectly fit Alex's, but Alex's legs part
automatically to make room for him, taking away from this play any pretense of
being a first time, but Timmy doesn't comment on that. “Don't worry,” he
murmurs as his lips follow the line of Alex's jaw, leaving a trail of sweet,
wet kisses. “I'll be gentle.”
He wonders if Sasha told Alex that – he did, before knowing that Alex had
already had sex before. Not that he wouldn't have been gentle, if he had knew,
but that sentence only makes sense during first times. In any other case it's
simply just too sappy.
The whole argument put aside, he wants Alex now that he's got him underneath
him but he refrains from going too quickly. He slips a hand under Alex's t-
shirt, barely touching his hips. His skin is already feverish but he's
shivering. Timmy kisses his way down and up his neck, and ends up sucking at
his earlobe. “You are shivering,” he says, a little bit surprise.
“I'm scared,” Alex says. His voice makes it sound those words so real that
Timmy has to look at his face to make sure something weird is not happening.
But Alex looks calm and inviting, perfectly at ease.
“You don't need to be. I would never hurt you,” he says. Then he grabs his
shirt and takes it off him. He stops to stare at him for a while and he smiles
when Alex covers his face, trying to look embarrassed and failing completely.
His body always moves so gracefully and he has never been ashamed of it, so
when he brings his hands to his face, his body arches sensually as if he
couldn't help but being consciously inviting him. In fact, he ends up chuckling
and staring at him through his parted fingers. “Oh my...”
“Shh, you are very shy and embarrassed, remember?” Timmy's kisses move along
his chest, eager to follow the straight path that leads around his belly and to
Timmy's favorite spot in the world, Alex's navel. Tonight, Alex is wearing a
little blue jewel, with two sparkling pendents hanging from it. Exactly the
kind of thing that drives Timmy crazy. He licks the skin around it, purposely
avoiding the navel for a few moments, so when his mouth closes around it and
his tongue dives into it, he can be proud of the moan of pleasure coming out
from Alex's lips.
Alex arches his back, pushing his belly against his mouth, exactly as he did
the first time Timmy has ever kissed him there, but that was just a reaction,
this is a deliberate movement. Timmy grabs his hips and pushes him down, going
back to kiss him on his lips. “I will take your pants down,” he informs him,
softly. And there he can't help but add, “And probably everything else.”
Alex hits him gently on his shoulder but he's laughing too. “Come on! It's hard
enough as it is.”
“Oh, I know that,” he gives him another kiss as his hands run down quickly to
unbutton his pants. Alex never wears pants that are less than glued to his ass.
Sometimes Timmy is lucky and they are just leggings – which are easily pulled
down – sometimes he's not so lucky and they are real traps, forcing him to make
all kind of maneuvers to get them down. Fortunately, Timmy has been having sex
with him long enough to know all the tricks. Plus, Alex wiggling his ass is
really helping. After that, his underwear is a piece of a cake.
“Why am I naked while you're fully dressed?” Alex asks, casually rubbing one
leg against Timmy's hip.
“Because doing you with your pants half down your legs is uncomfortable and
complicated,” Timmy says, kissing him soundly on his lips as he cups his ass in
one hand, gently feeling it. “While I just need to pull my pants a little
down.”
“So romantic!” Alex snorts, pulling him down for another kiss. “What about the
shirt, then?”
“I had to do your navel too,” Timmy answers. His fingers slip between Alex's
legs and find his opening. They circle it, teasingly.
Alex whines, fidgeting around them. “Touch me,” he asks, his voice bear no
traces of embarrassment any longer.
“Wasn't it your first time? What's with the orders?” Timmy chuckles as he
pushes a finger inside, enjoying the sound Alex makes.
“I've never been embarrassed of asking things,” Alex finally gives in. “Not
even the first time.”
Timmy slips in another finger, shrugging and biting at his neck. “I wouldn't
know, I wasn't there.”
Alex rolls his eyes. “Shut up,” he snorts but Timmy stops him from saying
anything else with another, deeper kiss.
“Anyway,” he says, when he finally comes up for air, his fingers still moving
inside Alex and Alex gently rotating his hips to both enjoy them and teasing
him, “since you snapped out of your third faked first time, can you return the
favor? I'm going crazy.”
Alex smiles, his lips against Timmy as he slips a hands inside his pants and
closes his fingers around his member. “Come here, you.”
*
Timmy lies back down and stares at the sky. It's still very starry but it looks
like someone closed the tap and no star is falling down anymore. The night is
quiet and feels peaceful.
“That was intense,” he says with a sigh of satisfaction.
Alex brought a corner of the plaid to cover his crotch, but that's the only
move he made. He's still too blissfully tired and basking in the aftermath of
sex to even think about putting clothes on. There's always a little window of
time after his orgasms when he literally doesn't care for anything at all. His
mind is empty and peaceful. There's nothing he needs, nothing he wants, nothing
he regrets. “Did you like it?” He asks. His voice is mildly curious.
Timmy snorts. “Are you kidding me? You were amazing.”
“You were not bad yourself,” Alex says and when Timmy glares at him, he
chuckles. “Just kidding, you were awesome. I think I might have fallen in love
with you all over again.”
Timmy nods with a solemn air. “That's what happens when you have sex with
virgins. Now you'll stick with me forever, just because I popped your cherry.
This is so embarrassing, maybe we should talk about it. I didn't want to hurt
you, I thought we were on the same page, but---”
Alex bursts out laughing, throwing his head back. “Shut up! Oh my God, you're
so annoying!” He cries out, reaching out to cover Timmy's mouth with his hand.
Then he passes the other over his face and through his sweaty hair while his
stupid sort-of-boyfriend laughs his ass off too. “I really need a shower but I
don't wanna have it. What about we put some clothes on, run back home and fuck
ourselves to sleep?”
“Deal.”
Timmy knows Alex too well to believe the matter has been set, but he can at
least accept this truce and wish for it to be as long as possible. Somewhere
somehow there must be one last latecomer star he didn't see that can grant him
his wish.
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