story summary: Luca had always been careful. A simple shanty hummed nearly exposes his greatest secret. He's a siren, born with a voice that enchants and a past that haunts. One that he'll do anything to keep buried.
check it out on ao3
*author's note at the end
------------
The deck above was not much better off, full of the crew fighting out what Luca assumed were Marines. Vale was single-handedly taking on two separate men while Bez and Cele tag teamed a group. Franky was fending off the ship from anyone else seeking to jump onto their ship.
Smoke stung Luca’s eyes as he and Pecco emerged from the hatch. Everything was so loud and bright as steel clashed against steel and boots pounded against the ship’s floor. Every instinct in Luca screamed to sing again, to end this in one terrible breath, but he forced it down. He couldn’t, he had used up most of his energy down below. No matter how much his body screamed, he needed to stay silent like a good boy.
“Stay behind me,” Pecco said automatically, shifting so his body was half in front of Luca’s.
“I can fight,” Luca snapped, though his voice still rasped from earlier.
“I know,” Pecco shot back, not even looking at him, “That’s not exactly what I’m concerned about now.”
A marine lunged toward them, blade flashing. Pecco moved without hesitation, knocking the man’s sword aside and driving his dagger into the soft gap under his ribs. Luca flinched at the wet sound, then forced himself to stay steady as the body fell.
“Either you let me fight or I become a liability to everyone else,” Luca complained.
Pecco sighed and Luca could imagine he was rolling his eyes, “Okay, fight then!”
Another came from the side. Luca reacted before Pecco could, slamming his shoulder into the man and sending him sprawling across the deck. He brought his dagger down, hands shaking but determined, and the marine didn’t get back up.
For a moment, they were back-to-back, breathing hard, the space between them tight and unspoken.
Pecco huffed a strained laugh, “I think you’re terrifying in about six different ways.”
Luca almost smiled.
Vale caught sight of them then, eyes flicking over Luca too quickly, checking for blood, for injury. Once an older brother, always an older brother. When he saw Luca still standing, relief softened his expression for just a fraction of a second before he went right back to swinging his blade. “Pecco!” he shouted, “We need to push them off the port side!”
“On it!”
Pecco grabbed Luca’s wrist and tugged him toward the port side, weaving between fallen bodies and clashing blades. The deck pitched violently beneath their feet as another cannon boomed from somewhere out at sea, rattling Luca’s bones.
They were almost there when Luca froze.
At first, he thought it was just another marine-another faceless uniform, another enemy-but then the man turned, light catching on sharp eyes and a familiar, cruel curl of a smile.
Marc.
Fuck. Luca’s stomach dropped. Of all the people in the world. Of all the ships.
Pecco noticed the way Luca’s grip tightened on his arm, “Hey! What is it?”
“That man,” Luca whispered, barely loud enough to hear over the noise, “By the rail. The one with the scar on his arm.”
“You know him?” Pecco asked, dread creeping into his voice.
“He’s a hunter,” Luca said, panic crawling up his spine, “Not just navy. He hunts things, things like me.”
Pecco’s blood went cold with the realization of what Luca meant.
Marc leapt over a fallen body and landed lightly on the deck, sword slick with blood, “Well,” he called in a sickly sing-song voice, “isn’t this my lucky day?” His eyes never left Luca’s frame.
“I was hoping I’d find you again, little songbird,” Marc smirked.
Luca froze. His body was numb. Everything around became background noise to Marc and his mind. Every instinct, trained or innate, told him to move or to do something but his body would not move.
Marc took another slow step closer, boots crunching on splintered wood. Around them, the fight raged on but Luca barely heard any of it as all he could see was Marc’s smile, sharp and knowing, like he’d already won.
“Relax,” Marc murmured, tilting his head, “If I wanted you dead, you’d already be screaming.”
Pecco bristled beside him, blade raised, “Back away from him.”
Marc’s eyes flicked to Pecco, unimpressed, “You must be one of the crew. You don’t even know what you’re standing in front of, do you?”
Pecco did know Luca’s secret, he had made that clear but it was more advantageous for him if Marc thought no one knew. Gave Marc a semblance of more leverage than he had in reality.
“Don’t,” Luca rasped, fear scraping raw against his throat, “Don’t say it.”
Even though Pecco knew though, the rest of the crew, minus Vale, had no clue and Luca wanted to keep it that way. Everything was safer that way with less people knowing.
Marc’s grin widened, “Oh, I won’t. Not here.” He tapped two fingers against his lips, mockingly thoughtful, “Wouldn’t want to ruin the fun. Your captain wouldn’t appreciate it, either. Or your little pirate friends. Such a fragile thing, your secret.”
Luca felt sick to his stomach.
Marc leaned closer just enough for Luca to hear him over the chaos, “But make no mistake, I know exactly what you are. Next time we meet, you’ll do what I ask or everyone on this ship will learn why sirens are hunted.”
Pecco took a step forward, fury flashing in his eyes, but at that moment a cannon from their ship roared, sending a violent shockwave across the deck. The navy ship alongside them lurched, ropes snapping and boards cracking.
Marc laughed, stepping back. “Looks like my ride’s leaving.”
He retreated toward the boarding ramp, moving with infuriating ease. Before he turned away completely, he shot Luca one last look. It was cold, possessive, and victorious.
“Sing pretty for me when the time comes,” he said softly, “I’ll be listening.”
Then he was gone, vanishing back onto the navy ship as it began to pull away, its crew scrambling to disengage.
Only when Marc disappeared from view did Luca realize he was shaking.
------------
*authors note: I'm so sorry to anyone who cares about this work. It's hard to find the time to write with college and on top of that finding the motivation and ideas needed to write anything of substance. I cannot promise any updates in the near future but do note that this work is one I want to come back to when I have the chance. I have not forgotten about this work. Please be kind and as always I love hearing your thoughts <3
story summary: Jannik unknowing started his heat during the Wimbledon finals and Carlos is there to pick up the pieces and comfort him.
*originally posted 07/25/2025
check it out on ao3
------------
His head was pounding so hard it felt like it’d burst and he was hot, which wasn’t totally abnormal but it was too much. He stumbled before hitting the ball back and taking the set point. He just needed the match to be over with, his body had felt off all day and it was annoying him to no end. This was Wimbledon, he needed to stay focused.
Carlos stared back at him across the court with a questioning glance at him while Jannik ignored it. He just needed the match to be over with so he could curl up with all his blankets and pass out. Just one more set. He just needed to ignore how off he felt for now, he could be sick after the match thank you very much.
He continued one, fervently ignoring any concerned looks he got from seemingly every person on the court. He needed it to be over, he really didn’t want to deal with a 5th set.
He had done it! Jannik raised his arms in victory as the normally quiet crowd erupted into applause. His head was spinning but he did not care, he had won. There was a fire in the bottom of his stomach but he did not care. He won and no one could take that from him.
One he got to his hotel he took a cold shower to cool himself off but he still felt like he was on fire and could not stop sweating. He ignored it and chalked it up to his adrenaline still going. He unconsciously arranged the blankets and pillows into the most comfortable and soft position before promptly falling asleep with ease.
If only that peace lasted through him waking up as well.
Oh, that’s what his body was telling him. He wasn’t just sick of sweaty, he was in heat! He had just won Wimbledon finals in pre-heat, oh god that was embarrassing. He was on a very specific schedule of suppressants, this was not supposed to be happening.
It wasn’t even like he got the worst symptoms, he mainly just felt ill and lonely but even that was too omega. Everything was better when he could ignore that one fact.
When he got up, he wobbled before going to the bathroom, opening up the cabinet to find his suppressants, and to swallow five of the pills dry. Logically, it was a stupid idea but hopefully it’d be worth it and when he woke up again it’d all be gone.
Sufficed to say, his plan did not work and instead just added to his pounding headache which got even further agitated by the knocking at his door. He really just wanted some good pasta and to go back to bed but the knocking persisted so eventually he got the door.
Jannik started talking before even looking at the person in front of him, “What do you want from me?”
“Wow, couldn’t even pretend to be happy to see me?” Carlos smirked as Jannik’s expression changed.
“Carlos! You owe me cuddles and pasta for winning, nothing less,” Jannik requested with a huge smile on his face and a flush across his cheeks. If it was anyone other than Carlos, he probably would have sent them home but Carlos was just the thing he needed.
Carlos subtlety moved them back towards the bed allowing Jannik to rest against it as Carlos combed through the room service menu. “So would you like tortellini or carbonara?”
Jannik wrapped his arms around Carlos’ neck and leaned against his shoulder, “Tortellini, always. You know that,” he mumbled.
“Well I thought giving you a choice was a good idea, I guess not then,” Carlos moved to grab Jannik’s waist.
Jannik let out a small, tired laugh as Carlos gently tugged him closer, their bodies now fully pressed together. He buried his face in Carlos's shoulder for a moment, letting the comfort of his presence wash over him. The steady rhythm of Carlos’s breath was grounding, a sharp contrast to the chaotic pounding of Jannik’s head.
"Yeah, not really feeling the ‘choice’ vibe right now," Jannik mumbled against Carlos's skin. "Just need the food and the quiet. Also some cuddling, don’t forget the cuddling.”
“I would never forget.”
Carlos chuckled softly, his hands moving in a slow, soothing rhythm on Jannik’s back, the sound of their breathing the only noise filling the room now. He didn’t say anything at first, just holding Jannik close, letting the silence stretch comfortably between them. He could feel the tension in Jannik’s body, the subtle tremors that betrayed how much he was still struggling, between the heat and the touch match.
Jannik’s voice broke the silence first, muffled against Carlos’s skin. "I don't even care about food right now, I just need you. And I need to sleep."
Carlos’s smile softened as he adjusted his position, his hands finding their way to Jannik's shoulders to pull him in even closer. "I know, I can tell you're not doing great. But food is coming, at least," he said, his voice warm and calm, “You just have to hang on for a bit longer.”
Jannik’s head rested on Carlos’s chest now, his eyes closing as the warmth and comfort of Carlos’s embrace began to dull the sharp edge of his headache. For a moment, the world outside the room didn’t matter, only the steady rhythm of Carlos’s heartbeat beneath his ear, the feeling of safety wrapping around him like a blanket.
“I just feel so stupid for feeling so bad when I’m alone. Thank you for coming here, I just needed someone but I’m pretty sure if it wasn’t you, I would have thrown them out,” Jannik mused.
“No matter what your brain tells you, you’ll never be stupid,” Carlos hustled his face into Jannik’s neck.
Carlos's voice was a low hum against Jannik’s skin, gentle in a way that made everything sting a little less. “You just went through the finals and pre-heat alone. You’re not stupid, Jannik. You’ve been been pushing yourself too hard for too long.”
Jannik didn't answer at first. His arms tightened slightly around Carlos, like he was scared that if he didn’t hold on tight enough, this moment might slip through his fingers. He knew Carlos was right. He was tired in a variety of ways.
“I hate this part of me,” he whispered finally, “The one that wants to be held. The one that needs someone else.”
Carlos pulled back just enough to look at him. His brows were furrowed in concern, “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that about yourself.”
Jannik blinked up at him, eyes glassy and pink around the edges.
“You’re allowed to need things, Jannik. Even if it’s not what people expect of you. You're not weak for wanting comfort. You're not weak for being an omega. None of that has even been or will ever be true. I love you, every inch of you including your ocasional clinginess.”
“I love you too.”
Jannik curled back into the nest of blankets, a smile still tugging at the corner of his lips. For the first time in days, maybe weeks, he felt like he could breathe. The ache in his body was still there, but it was easier to bear now with Carlos here. With love wrapped around him as tightly as the blankets he was nestled in.
story summary: Luca had always been careful. A simple shanty hummed nearly exposes his greatest secret. He's a siren, born with a voice that enchants and a past that haunts. One that he'll do anything to keep buried.
check it out on ao3
*author's note at the end
------------
Unfortunately, their sailing didn’t go as smoothly as planned. Yes, they were pirates but overall the VR46 crew tried to avoid other pirate ships and to an even higher degree, those from the navy. The navy ship they had come into contact with was spotted too late for any avoidant action to have occurred, instead the crew had to be prepared for combat.
Vale shouted orders from the helm, his voice cutting clean through the sea wind, “Brace yourselves! Gather your weapons! If we’re fast enough, we don’t have to outgun them- just outmaneuver!”
The ship lurched as Bez and Cele scrambled below deck for gunpowder, while Franky and Pecco readied the cannons and their daggers.
Luca moved to help, but Vale caught his wrist as he passed, “No,” the word rang sharp, final, “Below deck. I mean it.”
Luca’s jaw clenched, “I’m not helpless you know.”
“No,” Vale agreed, his voice low and urgent, “but if they board and hear your voice or catch a glimpse of anything that ticks them off, they have someone to take care of that. Siren hunters are not kind men.”
Luca hated it. Hated being the secret no one could afford to spill. Hated that his power was a weapon they couldn’t use and one that simultaneously put him out of commission. But he listened, just like he always did.
Below deck, the air felt heavy. Every crash above, every shift of the floorboards rattled against his boyd. He could hear Pecco’s voice faintly giving short commands, across the ship. And then a boom- a cannon, too close, shaking the entire hull. Dust rained down from the beams above. Despite being hidden away, he was on edge and prepared to fight if needed. Not only did he have a dagger but also the thing no one could take away from him, for better or worse, his song.
The creaking of the ship grew more frantic. He could hear shifting around that meant someone else had come aboard. The clash of swords above, the shouting, the thunderous crack of another cannon- it all blurred together in his mind. But it wasn’t until he heard the slam of the hatch and the thud of heavy boots on the lower stairs that his pulse truly spiked.
They were coming below. They were coming at him.
Luca pressed deeper into the shadow between crates, heart hammering in his throat. His hand closed around the hilt of his dagger, but he didn’t draw it. Not yet. The worst thing he could do was be too loud, too fast.
The lantern light wobbled at the top of the stairs. Then the sound of boots coming down rung heavy on his ears. A figure descended slowly into the hold, arifle slung over one shoulder. His uniform was scuffed, stained with smoke and saltwater, but unmistakably that of a navy soldier. His steps were deliberate, cautious. This wasn’t someone looting, it was someone searching.
Luca pressed his back tighter against the crate, trying to make himself smaller, quieter. But the boards beneath him creaked slightly under the tension in his body, and the soldier’s head snapped in his direction.
“Who's there?” the man called, voice echoing through the hull.
Luca’s breath caught.
He didn’t move and didn’t speak, knowing any noise could give him away at any second.
But it was too late. The soldier advanced with his gun raised, steps cautious, yet closing in fast, “I said show yourself,” he growled.
Luca hesitated, calculating. If he sang, even a note, he could drop the man—but the shouting above had quieted. What if others heard? What if more came down?
Another step, and the lantern’s beam landed directly on Luca.
“There!” the soldier shouted, and before Luca could act, another thud echoed from the stairs. Two more navy men burst into the hold. One grabbed Luca’s arm before he could slip away; another slammed the butt of his rifle into Luca’s side, knocking the breath from his lungs.
Pain exploded through him, his dagger clattered to the floor.
“No!” he gasped, trying to twist free, but strong hands shoved him face-first against the wall.
“Got one!” someone barked, “Looks like a kid.”
“Don’t matter,” another said, tying his wrists tight with rope. “Orders are to search for stowaways and any signs of magic.”
Luca’s blood went cold. Magic.
One of them tilted his head, peering into his face. “Pretty one, huh? Almost too pretty.”
“Don’t look at me,” Luca hissed, panic rising within his chest making it difficult to breathe. He desperately did not want to find out where those comments would lead to, his mind filling in all the infinite awful scenarios.
The soldier leaned in, inspecting him, “You one of them freaks, aren’t you? Those sirens,” his voiced was laced with venom.
Luca was overcome by his panic, his brain felt like mush as he tried to determine any way to get himself out of the situation. His body ached, no choice was without its risks. He let out a guttural scream, one infected with his siren’s song. One so desperate, it overcame his instinct to keep all things siren hidden.
The men’s eyes became distant before they fell to the ground, surrounding Luca with bodies. Luca staggered back against the crates, his throat raw from the sound that had torn out of him. His pulse thundered in his ears, louder than the chaos above. He stood there, gasping, surrounded by the navy men.
Luca’s chest heaved. He hadn’t meant to do that in the slightest but when you treat him like a wild animal he acts like one. He goes on pure instinct, survival mode.
He wiped at his mouth with shaking hands, feeling the rasp in his throat where the song had clawed its way out. They’ll know. Someone had to have heard that.
Bootsteps above made his heart leap into his throat. Another squad? More soldiers? He scrambled for his dagger, snatching it from where it had fallen, and looked at the three men lying unconscious around him. He couldn’t leave them like this. If anyone came down and found them---
But he didn’t have time to react, the hatch opened again.
“Luca!” Pecco’s voice cut through the smoke and chaos, filled with urgency.
He appeared in the stairwell, dagger slick with blood and hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. His eyes swept over the scene- the crumpled navy men, Luca standing in the middle of it, chest heaving. For a moment, his expression faltered, “What did you do?”
“Do not ask,” Luca croaked with a harsh sense of finality to his words. He did not want them to know that he lost control like a cornered wild animal. What he was willing to do to save himself and his secret. “Hurry, they’ll wake up soon enough and they need to be off this ship by then.”
Pecco didn’t move at first. His knuckles tightened around the hilt of his blade, eyes fixed on Luca like he was seeing him for the first time, or maybe like he’d finally stumbled across the answer to a question he hadn’t dared to ask. The silence stretched between them, filled only by the groan of wood and the chaos of battle above.
“Pecco,” Luca said, voice low, frayed at the edges, “please.”
That broke him. Pecco blinked, jaw tightening, and with a sharp nod he crossed the room. He didn’t question again, didn’t linger on the way the air felt charged, didn’t look too long at the men sprawled across the floor with vacant eyes. Instead, he sheathed his dagger and bent to grab one of the soldiers by the collar. “Help me,” he muttered, already dragging the body toward the far hatch.
Luca obeyed without argument, his hands still trembling as he hauled another man by the wrists, ignoring how his head lolled lifelessly. They worked quickly, shoving the three soldiers through the open storage hatch that led to the open sea.
When the last body disappeared into the dark, Pecco slammed the hatch shut, braced his hands against it, and turned back. His chest heaved, sweat and soot streaking his face, his gaze sharp and searching. “Luca,” he started, but stopped himself. His lips pressed into a thin line, as though he knew that whatever words he chose would matter too much.
“I told you not to ask,” Luca whispered, throat aching.
Pecco studied him a moment longer, then let out a sharp breath. “Fine,” he said. “Not now.” His hand gripped Luca’s shoulder, steady and firm, pulling him toward the stairs. “But you can’t stay down here. If more come, you won’t have the strength to-“
“I’ll be fine.”
“You’re shaking.”
Luca tried to yank free, but Pecco’s grip held, not unkind but unrelenting. “Vale told me to keep you safe,” Pecco said, softer now, almost pleading, “and I don’t care what secrets you’re hiding, you’re not dying down here.”
Luca bit his lip, “For the record, I do not need help. My brother needs to stay out of my business, you got that?
Pecco’s grip eased at last, though his hand lingered on Luca’s arm, “You’ve been saying the same thing for a while now. And not that I don’t believe you, but maybe you should evaluate why you feel the need to keep proving that. Letting people in isn’t a weakness, we are a crew. We are meant to help each other,” he took a deep breath, “I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but I will always be here for you. I swear by it and I bet the rest of the boys will too.”
Luca opened his mouth to respond but Pecco continued, “Now you have to stand by us. Let’s see what all is going on up there, go it?”
A smile slipped onto Luca’s face, one he tried to suppress due to the circumstances, “Yes sir.”
They climbed up the ladder and opened the hatch to go help their friends, their family, no matter what was ahead.
------------
*authors note: Okay I'm finally back! As you might be able to tell from the long break between the last chapter and this, I had (and still have) really bad writers block. Please be kind and as always I love hearing your thoughts <3
story summary: Gavin McKenna deals with the pressure thrust upon him through the label of being ‘a prospective number one pick'.
*originally posted 01/07/2026
*edited on 03/03/2026 to remove the very brief omegaverse mentions
check it out on ao3
------------
Being away from his home hurt. The gnawing feeling was not the normal type of hurt but instead the hurt that turned his heart inside out. He chose this life for himself. He knew what he was giving everything up for but the feeling still haunted him.
A separate feeling also existed, a crushing feeling of disappointing everyone. His family, his community, his country, he was letting them all down. He wasn’t good enough no matter how hard he tried. Lofty expectations pressed down on his shoulders and he was faltering with the whole world watching. He was supposed to go first overall, he was supposed to repay everyone who sacrificed something for him to be where he was today. He was supposed to represent his indigenous community on the world stage.
He just wanted to curl up in the corner and die, wrapping the clinical sheets of the hotel around him to block out the world. He wanted to not care what they said but he cared much more than he’d like to admit. He shouldn’t have left home at twelve to pursue hockey over 1000 kilometers from his home.
Why did everyone else get to just exist while his world came crashing down?
His heart yearned for the comfort of his family, the ones who could always get him out of his head. But instead, he laid on the floor waiting for darkness to engulf him.
Sleep did not come easy. Every time his eyes closed, his mind began to race again. It provided him with images of scouts shaking their heads and reporters with dramatized headlines. He was a disappointment. He was a waste of resources. Why did his community bother to fund his hockey journey?
He tossed and turned but he felt like he was being watched. Guilt poured over him, the hide vest he wore last year was shoved into the bottom of his suitcase, untouched this year. Too afraid of what people would say this time.
No matter what he did, it was not home. He loved the Yukon and the great nature and great escape it provided him. No matter what happened, that would always be home. He would always come back there, no matter what.
The hotel was all wrong between the fake resh scent and the pristine condition it was kept in. It was nowhere close to the lived-in feel of their family home. It was even worse than his dinky college dorm and he thought at the time it could never be worse.
He wondered when the love of the game had started to feel like a debt.
He loved hockey and he always would but nowadays that came with strings attached.
story summary: Luca had always been careful. A simple shanty hummed nearly exposes his greatest secret- he's a siren, born with a voice that enchants and a past that haunts. The VR46 crew begin to suspect something is up but Luca is unwilling to fully trust them.
check it out on ao3
------------
Luca was worried, he was always worried but he had royally screwed up. He was just humming a shanty while washing the deck of the ship like Vale had ordered and next thing he knows the whole VR46 crew are staring at him enchantedly. Pecco was the first to break, Bez and Cele went on to continue what they were doing like nothing had happened, and Franky stared at him with a questioning glare. Vale stood by unaffected and minding his business before recognizing what was happening. He stormed over and pulled Luca off into his captain quarters undoubtedly to scold him.
“What were you thinking? Luca, you should know to be careful. We can’t have anyone finding out about our family, imagine what would happen if anyone found out,” Valentino yelled at his younger brother as he cowered away from the man.
Luca really didn’t mean to, but his brother just did not get it. All Vale got from their mother was convincing sweet talk, but he had gotten all the siren traits from singing enchanting men to having gills when he was dunked underwater and an untrainable skill in swimming. He knew how frowned upon sirens were, notorious for luring sailors to their doom, and knew the potential ramifications of getting discovered.
“You think I don’t understand but I do- I really do. I wasn’t intentionally serenading them, I was just humming the song in my heart. How was I supposed to know that was enough to enchant them?” Luca pleaded with his brother, wanting him to understand that his intentions were pure. The last thing he wanted was his brother to think of him as a monster too.
Vale’s eyes softened as he looked at his clearly distressed brother, “I just can’t have anything happen to you after what happened to mom- I just can’t,” he brought Luca into a hug.
Luca leaned into the touch, “I know you’re worried but I’m doing my best to hide, you have to know that. I love this crew, I don’t know what I would do if I had to leave.”
His head was grasped by two hand, “You don’t have to worry because we won’t ever get to that point. They would have to get through me and I’m not letting you go without a fight. Now as your captain, go finish swabbing the deck.”
Luca gave a half-hearted nod, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite the weight still on his chest. He turned to leave, but not before catching the faintest shimmer in Vale’s eyes- fear, love, and something like resignation all tangled together.
As he stepped out of the captain’s quarters, the brightness of the midday sun struck him harder than usual. The crew had returned to their routines, but there was a lingering tension in the air. Pecco was perched near the helm of the ship but his eyes flicked to Luca the moment he emerged. Bez and Cele were back to rigging the sails, their chatter subdued, and Franky leaned against the railing with arms crossed and that same damn look full of suspicion and concern.
Luca avoided their gazes, opting to focus on the mop in his hand and the stubborn salt stains on the deck. He had to constantly remind himself not to hum or sing, he didn’t understand why but music always called to him no matter how much he knew he shouldn’t partake. He felt the crew watching, felt the silence where there should have been laughter or complaints.
He kept his eyes down, though he could feel Pecco’s gaze still lingering. Pecco stepped closer, his boots tapping gently against the deck, “You know, sailors used to tell stories about voices like that. Songs that could calm storms or pull entire ships under.” His gaze locked onto Luca’s.
“Thanks for the compliment but it was just some humming. Nothing like those conniving sirens,” Luca tried to brush off Pecco’s comment.
Pecco didn’t look convinced, “Yeah, okay, sure man. Whatever you say. We all have our secrets; we wouldn’t be pirates without them. I’m not scared of you Luca and nothing will change that.”
Luca refused to look at him, it couldn’t be that simple. Trusting others with their secret was what got their mother killed and led him with Vale to the sea life. They just wanted a peaceful island life, but someone found out about their mother and had aired out the secret to the villagers who murdered her. Luca was just a boy at that time.
Willingly handing out his secret was a ticking timebomb, a liability Luca had no control over.
Pecco stayed for another moment, like he was waiting for Luca to say something more. When it became clear he wouldn’t, he let out a quiet breath and gave a small of patience.
“I’m not pushing, Luca,” he said finally, “But I’m not going anywhere either,” then he turned, walking away like it was a casual conversation, like he hadn’t just offered Luca a sliver of safety in a world that had never felt safe.
Luca stood frozen, mop still in hand, heart hammering. He wished he could believe Pecco, wished he could believe anyone besides Vale, but he’d learned the hard way that belief got people killed. Belief got you burned and left behind, dragged into the sea with grief clinging to you.
He forced himself to move again, scrubbing harder than necessary, knuckles white against the handle. It was safer to stay quiet and unseen, just another deckhand among many.
But his song- his heart- had never learned to be silent. No matter how hard he tried to bury it, the melody always found a way out.
story summary: Luca had always been careful. A simple shanty hummed nearly exposes his greatest secret. He's a siren, born with a voice that enchants and a past that haunts. One that he'll do anything to keep buried.
check it out on ao3
------------
The smell of salt and fire traveled across the sea. Luca stood near the bow, eyes narrowed at the shape rising out of the mist. Tall cliffs guarded the port like teeth, and beyond them, dense jungle stretched into the hills. A small settlement clung to the coast, marked by docks and crooked buildings painted in faded colors. It was the kind of place most people would avoid but that worked in their favor.
Vale announced from the helm, “We’re almost near land. We will only be here long enough to resupply. No trouble, no questions. In and out. You got that?” His voice carried that edge Luca knew too well. Vale always sounded like that when he was serious.
The crew all nodded in unison. They were pirates after all, no island would take kindly to them being there, so they needed to be quick. It also helped with Luca’s nerves, less time to get noticed and out himself.
Pecco stood just behind him, scanning the shoreline. His posture was calm, but Luca caught the tension in his shoulders.
“Locals here friendly?” Franky asked, eyeing the port with suspicion.
“Friendly enough if you don’t owe them or cross them,” Vale said, steering the ship toward a part of the shore that was out of the way, “We trade, we don’t linger. Keep your heads down.”
“So no bars for us?” Bez grinned.
Vale shot him a look, “Do I look like I’m in the mood for bars?” The conversation got dropped.
As the ship bumped gently against the shore, crew members began tying off lines and lowering the anchor.
Luca moved to disembark with the others when Vale caught his arm, “Stay close,” Vale said under his breath, “And don’t speak to anyone you don’t know.”
“I’m not going to start singing in the middle of the market, Vale,” Luca snapped, pulling away. Vale didn’t respond, but his stare lingered like a weight against his chest.
The docks were busy, bustling with merchants shouting over one another, haggling for the best prices, and children running through the narrow alleys between the buildings. The air was thick with the smell of saltwater, grilled fish, and wet timber. Luca kept his head down, following Pecco’s steady steps toward the edge of the marketplace. The last thing he needed was to be noticed, and even though the market was crowded, he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching him.
Vale barked orders to the crew, directing them to gather what they needed: barrels of water, dried goods, and a new set of sails. Bez and Cele went off in one direction while Franky stayed close to Vale. Luca hung back, sticking to Pecco’s side, staying out of sight as much as possible.
Pecco glanced at him briefly, his expression unreadable, "You good?" he asked quietly.
Luca nodded, but he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in his gut. Every time he took a step, it felt like someone was just out of sight, watching.
“Let’s make it quick,” Pecco added, his tone low but firm, “We don’t want to be here longer than necessary.”
Luca silently agreed, he didn’t want to stick around long enough for his gut to be proven right. He couldn’t tell if it was because they were pirates or because of his curse, neither of which was technically information that could be gathered from observations alone.
As Luca and Pecco moved deeper into the bustling market, the sounds of laughter, shouting, and the occasional crash of barrels filled the air. But beneath it all, Luca’s pulse drummed in his ears, the nagging feeling of being watched growing stronger. Every footstep, every turn, felt calculated. He tried to convince himself it was just the anxiety, but the unease gnawed at him.
"Stay close," Pecco murmured, his eyes flicking to the crowd around them. His tone was casual, but there was an edge to it, one Luca recognized well. Pecco was just as alert as he was.
Luca didn’t know what happened next. One moment he’s bargaining at the stall next to Pecco and the next Pecco disappeared. He knew he shouldn’t have panicked but Pecco’s presence was the one thing calming his anxiety. Usually he made an excuse to stay on the ship, but this time he wanted to be part of the crew. And now that was biting him in the ass.
He did the one thing he knew to do, hurried to the nearest place that wasn’t crowded. He ended up near a different area of the shoreland that was not occupied by their ship. There was a lanky boy who looked Luca’s age drawing shapes in the sand with a stick.
He tried to skirt around the boy to find his own area of the shore but then the boy started speaking, “My brother always tells me to be wary of the sea but he never explains why. Do you know?”
Luca hesitated for a moment, the obvious answer glaring at him, “Maybe he just worries because of how vast the sea is. It goes as far as the eye can see and deep too.” Luca moved closer to the boy.
He smiled, “I guess. I’ve never seen you around here, I’m Alex,” he extended a hand out to Luca.
He hesitated, “I’m Luca,” he took the hand and got pulled down to the sand with Alex.
Luca stumbled slightly as Alex pulled him down beside him, his feet losing traction in the loose sand. He quickly steadied himself, glancing back toward the market and the crew's progress, but they were out of view now, hidden behind the thick crowd.
"You’re not from here, are you?" Alex asked, his voice warm and casual, his dark eyes flicking to Luca with unassuming curiosity.
Luca hesitated, unsure how to answer. His eyes darted around the shore, half expecting someone to recognize him, but it was just the two of them, alone for now. He couldn’t explain the tension he felt, the strange pull between wanting to keep his distance and the instinct to just speak and blend in, if only for a moment.
“Not really,” Luca replied with a tight smile, settling down onto the sand, “Just passing through.”
“Hmm,” Alex said, drawing another long line in the sand, “Doesn't seem like you’re here for the trade, though. You seem out of place for a merchant or a sailor.”
Luca was caught off guard by the statement. He couldn’t quite pinpoint why Alex’s easy, unfiltered curiosity made him so uneasy, but it did. Maybe it was the way he spoke so matter-of-factly, as if he was already seeing through the surface.
“I’ve been around,” Luca said, his voice growing a little quieter, “Just visiting, I guess. It’s just me and the crew.”
Alex nodded thoughtfully, his stick paused, “Crew, huh? You a pirate then?”
Luca flinched before quickly shaking his head, “No. I mean, not really. It’s complicated.”
Alex’s lips twitched upward into a knowing smile, though he didn’t push. He seemed like the type of person who would take whatever answer you gave and let it be, no further questions. The sea breeze picked up, pushing strands of hair into Luca’s face, and for a moment, Luca was lost in the simple, innocent exchange. He’d almost forgotten what it felt like to talk to someone who didn’t look at him like he was a ticking time bomb.
Alex’s hand returned to the stick, tracing slow spirals into the sand, “Do you ever feel like the sea knows things about you that no one else does?” he asked, still watching the tide roll in and out.
Luca blinked rapidly, startled by the question, “What do you mean?”
Alex shrugged, “Dunno. Just feels like it listens. Like it remembers.”
Luca swallowed hard, the words sinking uncomfortably under his skin. He glanced out to the water, the same water that had always called to him, always known too much. He didn’t respond.
“Alex!” The voice cut through the air like a blade.
Luca turned sharply toward the sound and saw a short figure striding across the sand. He was sharp and muscular despite his small stature with eyes filled with a look of suspicion. His clothes look old, tattered, and suited more for sea travel than daily life at the seaside village.
The figure reached them quickly, boots kicking up sand as he moved. His sharp gaze locked on Luca before flicking to Alex, who hadn’t moved an inch.
“Who’s this?” the man asked, voice low and edged with warning.
Alex leaned back on his elbows, completely unbothered, “Luca. He’s just visiting.”
The man didn’t relax. He stepped in front of Alex like a barrier.
Luca stood up slowly, keeping his hands visible, “I don’t mean any harm,” he said carefully, unsure how to defuse the situation, “I’ll be gone in a few days anyways.”
“You’re dressed like a sailor, but you speak like you’re hiding something,” the man said, sharp as a knife.
“Marc, stop,” Alex sighed. “He’s not doing anything wrong.”
“Not yet,” Marc replied, eyes never leaving Luca, “But I’ve seen what passes through this port. Just a bunch of criminals, and they aren’t even the worst of it.”
Marc’s eyes bore into Luca’s, unflinching and assessing. There was something cold and calculating about the stare. It wasn’t just mistrust of strangers or pirates, it was like Marc was testing him.
Luca’s stomach twisted. That stare felt too knowing, too close. He shifted his weight unconsciously, subtly angling himself away from the shoreline, from the temptation of the waves behind him.
“Hey, I’m not looking for trouble,” Luca said, voice careful, “Just got separated, we’re supposed to leave tonight or tomorrow morning after we finish trading. In and out.”
Marc crossed his arms, still standing like a shield in front of Alex, “Funny,” he said, voice deceptively casual, “Trouble never thinks it’s trouble until someone ends up dead.”
“Marc!” Alex warned.
Marc ignored him. His gaze flicked down to the sand near Luca’s boots, then to his throat, lingering just long enough to make Luca’s skin crawl. There shouldn’t be a way for him to recognize him as a siren, not a noticeable one anyways, but it felt like he did.
“You’ve got that look,” Marc muttered, “Heard a dozen stories in towns like this- strangers who speak too sweet, show up during high tides, disappear before dawn. Leave bodies behind or worse.”
Luca forced a breath through his nose, pulse hammering in his ears. It felt like the air had turned thick, like the sea itself had gone quiet, listening.
“Marc,” Alex stood now too, brushing sand from his trousers, “He’s not a threat.”
Marc didn’t budge, “You don’t know what kind of things wear friendly faces, Alex.”
Luca couldn’t help it as he took a step back. It wasn’t fear of Marc exactly. It was fear of being recognized. Not for who he was, but what he was.
The sharp edge in Marc’s tone, the quiet way he watched, not like a man guarding his brother but like someone trained to hunt. Marc wasn’t just suspicious, he knew, or at least, he suspected. He’s a siren hunter.
Luca had to stop himself from letting out a curse. Discreteness was key, he reminded himself.
Luca swallowed hard, fighting the urge to bolt. His song curled like a trapped thing inside him, pressing against his ribs, begging to escape. Words caught in his throat, afraid that anything that escaped would be a song.
“I should get back,” Luca muttered, glancing toward the market again, “They’ll be looking for me.”
Marc took a half-step forward threateningly, “You do that.”
Luca gave a curt nod and turned quickly, forcing himself not to run. His boots kicked up sand as he hurried back toward the market, heart pounding with every step.
He could feel Marc’s stare following him long after he disappeared into the crowd. Luca didn’t stop moving until the shoreline was out of sight. Even then, he didn’t feel safe. His skin was still crawling with the ghost of Marc’s stare.
He spotted the crew again near the northern edge of the market. Pecco was bent over a crate, checking its contents while Franky and Cele haggled loudly with a vendor and Bez gathered medical supplies into another crate. Vale stood near them, arms crossed, talking to someone he clearly didn’t trust. Luca slipped in from behind, hoping to disappear into the group without drawing attention.
Unfortunately, Luca wasn’t that lucky. Vale’s voice cut across the noise like a whip, “Luca.”
He froze. Luca turned slowly to see Vale approaching with that tightness in his shoulders, that slight narrowing of his eyes that always came before a storm.
“Where the hell were you?” Vale asked. It wasn’t loud, but it didn’t have to be. There was weight in it, cold and cutting, “I told you to stay close.”
“It was crowed and got turned around. Nothing that serious and look I’m fine,” Luca gestured towards his body, showing off how he was unharmed.
You vanished.” Vale’s voice was sharper now, “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?”
“I can handle myself,” Luca shot back, but the words lacked force. He was still shaken from the encounter with Marc.
Vale stepped closer, dropping his voice so only Luca could hear, “You were gone for who knows how long and without telling anyone where you were, Luca. On an unfamiliar island too. Alone. If anyone here knew what you were---” Vale threatened.
“They’d tear me apart and burn me at the stake, I know that Vale. You telling me this doesn’t change a single thing. I know that! I didn’t want to get separated, that’s just what happened! Now let’s leave as soon as possible,” despite trying to hide his feelings, Luca’s voice came out desperate.
Vale’s expression twisted, a flare of anger crossing his face before quickly being replaced with something heavier- fear. He stepped in closer, grabbing Luca’s jaw, his voice a low hiss only Luca could hear over the din of the market.
“You think this is just about you getting separated?” Vale said, his tone sharp but shaking at the edges, “You disappear and I think someone’s dragged you into an alley. I think you’ve slipped into the ocean and let that curse take over. I think I’m going to have to fish your body out of the shallows before the locals do. That’s what runs through my head.”
Luca’s mouth opened and closed. The words didn’t come.
Vale’s chest rose and fell, barely controlled, “I can’t protect you if you don’t listen to me. I’m not trying to suffocate you, Luca, but this world isn’t going to bend just because you want it to. There are people here who know. I can feel it.”
Luca’s shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of him, “I know that,” he muttered, voice raw, “I know it every second I wake up and have to pretend I’m someone I’m not. I know it when I have to speak carefully just so no one hears how wrong I sound. I know it when someone looks at me too long and I wonder if it’s because they see what I am or because they think I shouldn’t be like this. I know, I know, I know!” his voice was trembling, close to tears.
Vale’s grip loosened, his hand falling from Luca’s jaw. For a moment, he just looked at him- not as a captain or a protector, but as an older brother who had no idea how to stop the hurt.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Vale said at last, quieter now, “But you terrify me, Luca because you walk through this world like it’ll never shatter, when it so easily could.”
Pecco appeared beside them silently. He didn’t ask what had happened, he didn’t need to. He could read it in Luca’s flushed face and Vale’s tight stance but instead of demanding answers, he reached out, brushing the edge of his knuckles against the back of Luca’s arm. The touch was barely there, just enough to remind him he was seen.
“We’re ready,” Pecco said simply.
Vale nodded, “We’re leaving. Now.”
Luca followed them as they moved toward the ship, the crew falling into routine without argument. There was no joking, no lingering goodbyes, only the swift efficiency of practiced hands and the urgency of something unspoken.
The island faded behind them as the sails were hoisted and the anchor drawn up, the ship slicing back into the open sea. Luca stood at the railing, watching the cliffs disappear behind the mist.
Pecco joined him not long after, silent as always until Luca spoke first.
“I met a guy on the beach, he knew about the curse,” Luca murmured.
“Who?”
“Marc. He didn’t say it out loud, but he knew. Or suspected enough.”
Pecco frowned, brows knitting, “What did he do?” he asked in an accusatory tone.
“Nothing.” Luca stared out over the water, “That’s the worst part. He didn’t have to. He just looked. As if I was already a story he’d heard before.”
Pecco didn’t say anything for a while. Then he leaned in slightly and said, “We’re not going back there.”
Luca nodded, “No, we’re not. Rule number one, never stay in one place too long otherwise you risk making enemies but I might have done that anyways.”
The wind picked up, catching in the sails as the crew settled back into their rhythm. The island vanished behind them like a unpleasant dream that was best left forgotten.
Luca closed his eyes and listened to the sea. It didn’t sing, not yet. Yet it hummed in his blood, quiet and steady.
story summary: Luca had always been careful. A simple shanty hummed nearly exposes his greatest secret- he's a siren, born with a voice that enchants and a past that haunts. The VR46 crew begin to suspect something is up but Luca is unwilling to fully trust them.
check it out on ao3
------------
The night was heavy as it stormed, everyone seemed to be asleep except for Luca. The ocean tugged and pulled underneath the. He sat alone on the bow, knees tucked to his chest, listening to the waves- a constant reminder of what he couldn’t have.
Sirens brought songs, storms, and trouble- everything Luca had to avoid.
He hated that the song in his chest still wanted to escape. He hated more that a part of him still wanted to let it.
The door to the living quarters creaked open behind him, but the footsteps weren’t Vale’s. They were lighter, hesitant. Luca didn’t turn.
“I figured you’d be out here.” Pecco’s voice came soft and low, like he knew better than to speak too loud in the dark.
“I figured you’d be asleep,” Luca replied, eyes fixed on the purple horizon.
Pecco stepped closer, leaning against the railing just beside him. He didn’t say anything at first. Just looked out, letting the silence stretch.
“I used to think the ocean was endless,” Pecco said eventually, “When I was a kid, I thought maybe if I sailed far enough, I’d find something that made sense. A reason I didn’t fit in back on the island.”
Luca’s jaw tensed as he refused to look over towards the other man.
Pecco continued despite Luca’s lack of response, “Instead, I found this crew. Vale took me in. He gave me purpose, a place,” he paused, “Kind of like what he did for you, right?”
Luca let out a sharp breath, “Vale didn’t take me in. He dragged me with him.”
Pecco shifted beside him, the wood beneath his boots creaking, “You don’t mean that,” he said gently.
“I wasn’t given a choice in the life I wanted, I had this life thrust upon me through circumstances out of my hand. Vale saved me, sure but he didn’t ask what I wanted. Just threw me on this ship and said we had to run. I’ve just tried to fit in with what he wants,” Luca exhaled deeply as he explained. He knew Vale was just trying to protect Luca back then but it honestly hurt to be forced to adapt to a new scenario he didn’t want to be a part of.
The wind curled around them, salt-laced and sharp. The ocean below groaned like it remembered every secret he tried to bury. As if, even without the singing, it knew what- who- he was.
He doesn’t get it. Vale didn’t have the song in him, not the same way. Their mother used to say it bloomed differently in her children- that Vale got the charm, the presence, the ease with people. But Luca? Luca got the curse, the real siren’s gift. The pull. The hunger. The voice that could unravel a man’s mind with a single note if he wasn’t careful.
And he wasn’t always careful.
He squeezed his arms tighter around his knees, fingers digging into his arms, “He’s scared, I know he is but-,” Luca said, more to himself than to Pecco, “Ever since—"
His throat tightened, he didn’t finish. The memory rose anyway, uninvited. The fire. The crowd. The deafening silence that followed her last song.
He’d ran. Vale had grabbed him and dragged him, sobbing, down to the dock. Told him not to look back, but he had. He’d turned just in time to see her go under the waves, not by choice. Not in the way sirens were meant to disappear.
The image was always there, no matter how many times he tried to drown it. Her silhouette caught in the firelight, voice hoarse from the song that had done nothing—nothing—to save her. A grim reminder that it wasn’t a guarantee his gift would save him if he was discovered.
They hadn’t seen her as human- not even close- just a threat, a curse to be purged.
Luca’s throat burned as he buried his face in his arms.
Pecco didn’t say anything. The silence was thick, not awkward, not uncomfortable, just aware. As if he knew something had cracked in Luca and didn’t want to force him to say anything.
Luca hated it. Hated how kind Pecco was. How easy he made it feel to want to say something because part of him did. That part- the lonely, aching one that still remembered softness- wanted to believe someone else could love him just like his mom did. That maybe Pecco would love him despite of his curse.
But that was all just a fantasy, a dangerous and stupid one
“You ever lose someone and feel like they took part of you with them?” Luca asked, voice low, raw, “Not just grief but like you’re less whole now. Like they took something vital and you’re still walking around, trying to pretend you don’t feel hollow.”
Pecco didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice was just as quiet, “Yeah. I think so.”
Luca didn’t believe him, not really. Pecco said it like someone who was trying to meet him halfway, not someone who watched his world burn down in front of him. He appreciated the gesture anyways.
“I don’t talk about her,” Luca said, “Not even with Vale.”
Pecco didn’t speak, but Luca could feel the weight of his attention. There, steady in the way that made Luca’s chest twist painfully.
“She was everything,” Luca murmured, “The only one who really saw me. Not like Vale sees me. She saw what I was and didn’t flinch. She understood it all.”
“You don’t have to tell me more,” Pecco said eventually, careful and calm, “But if you ever want to, I’d listen.”
It was too much. Too gentle.
Luca shook his head. Of all the people on this ship, it had to be Pecco. With his stupid soft voice and steady presence. With the way he looked at Luca like he was just Luca, not Vale’s little brother or some kid caught in the middle of something older than them both.
He wished Pecco would stop being so kind. It made it harder to keep everything buried.
Luca let out a shaky breath, he didn’t dare lift his head. He didn’t want Pecco to see the rawness in his eyes or the salt that didn’t come from the sea.
“You make it so hard,” Luca said finally, voice brittle.
Pecco frowned slightly, brow knitting, “Hard?”
“To stay quiet,” Luca muttered, “To not say things I shouldn’t.”
Pecco didn’t move. “Then don’t,” he said, almost too gently, “Say what you need.”
Luca shook his head, slow and firm, “You don’t get it. If I said what I really wanted to say, I wouldn’t be able to stop. And I can’t—” His voice cracked, “I can’t.”
Another gust rolled across the deck, colder now, carrying the sting of rain. Thunder growled again, far off, like a warning.
Pecco’s voice was quieter now, “Okay. Then don’t say anything. Just sit with me.”
And Luca did. He didn’t move, didn’t answer, but he didn’t leave either. The silence between them grew full, the kind that wrapped around your ribs and made breathing a little easier, even when it hurt.
The storm wasn’t going to let up anytime soon. The crew would sleep through it, rocked by waves and old aches. The sea would keep pulling at Luca like it always did, the song would still hum in his bones.
He leaned his head to the side, just barely brushing Pecco’s shoulder. Not a touch, not really. More like a whisper of one, a test.
Pecco didn’t flinch, he didn’t even shift. He stayed exactly where he was.
And Luca let himself stay there too, just for a minute longer, pretending it could last.
story summary: Luca Marini navigates his blossoming romance with Moto2 teammate Pecco Bagnaia while being a closeted trans man.
chapter summary: At the Ranch, Luca finds comfort and community among the Academy boys but a careless misgendering from Vale the next morning reopens old wounds.
check out the full story on ao3
lightly a continuation of this story
------------
Luca had always had a difficult relationship with the Ranch. On one hand, it was full of the people he felt closest with but on the other hand, he always felt like he was on the edges of the group- always insecure and worried about how the Academy boys viewed him. Sometimes they brushed off his part in the group, chalking it up to being the younger sibling of Rossi. Like he didn’t have value as his own person.
He tried to focus on the positives of the trip, he always loved this place with its constant hum of motorcycle and sprawling land.
He stood near the edge of the track, helmet tucked under his arm, watching as Bez and Cele traded laps with practiced ease. Laughter rang out when someone slid too wide on a corner, and Luca smiled. There was a strange kind of comfort in the predictability of it all. Out here, they weren’t anything more than just boys who loved to ride.
Still, he hesitated before stepping onto the track. The old nerves were creeping in- what if they didn’t take him seriously today? What if he wasn’t fast enough? What if they still saw her when they looked at him, no matter how his voice sounded or how hard he trained or how tight the binder felt beneath his shirt?
A familiar voice broke his spiral, “Oi!” Pecco was jogging toward him, already half-dusted in dirt, his grin lazy and skin burnt, “So are you joining or just admiring from afar?”
Luca rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the twitch of a smile, “Someone’s got to keep an eye on you lot. You ride like you’ve got no concept of self-preservation.”
Pecco laughed, bright and familiar, “That’s rich coming from the someone who almost crashed in spectacular fashion last week.”
“That was one time!” Luca whined playfully.
“And it shall live on in glorious Ranch legend,” Pecco teased, bumping his shoulder as he passed by, “Come on!”
When he finally rolled onto the track, the nerves melted under the vibration of the engine, the way the bike moved with him like muscle memory. He joined the others with ease, carving through corners, kicking up dirt, letting instinct take over. The heat, the wind, the roar- it silenced the self-doubt in a way nothing else could.
Later, when the sun had dipped low and the track had emptied out, the boys sprawled out near the fire pit. Bez was already stoking a flame, shirt discarded and hair wild. Celestino leaned back on his elbows, sweat drying on his skin. There was beer passed around, a portable speaker humming low, and the kind of tired that made your body ache in a good way.
Oh had Luca missed this, just him and the boys with no other thoughts in the world.
Luca settled in between Pecco and Marco, sipping slowly from a cold bottle. His shoulders were loose, for once. Even his binder didn’t feel suffocating, just the usual discomfort.
“Is Vale coming tomorrow?” Cele asked, absentmindedly tossing a twig into the fire.
“Think so,” Pecco answered before Luca could, brushing his knee against Luca’s under the blanket they shared, “He said he’d lunch. You know, if he remembers.”
Bez snorted, “He never remembers lunch,” the boys laughed.
“I’ll believe lunch when I see it,” Luca mumbled, mostly into his drink.
They let the moment hang in the crackle of firelight and smoke. Someone turned the music up. The mood shifted- someone was singing off-key, Bez probably- and Luca leaned his head against Pecco’s shoulder, just for a second. Just long enough to remind himself he was here.
“You were flying today,” Marco said suddenly, nudging Luca with his foot.
Luca startled and blinked rapidly, “What?”
“Fast clean lines. You looked good out there.” It shouldn’t have meant as much as it did, but it lodged deep. An ache that almost felt like relief.
“Thanks,” Luca said, voice soft.
Marco nodded, no more, no less. Then he turned his attention back to the flames.
Pecco leaned in close, lips brushing against the Luca’s ear, “Told you,” he whispered
Luca didn’t respond, but something in his chest bloomed, warm and delicate. He stared into the fire, watched the sparks kick up into the navy sky, and let himself believe it- just for tonight.
Tomorrow, he knew, might be harder. Vale would show up with his big presence and effortless charm, and suddenly Luca would be ‘the kid’ again, trailing behind greatness. He wasn’t sure how much he could take without retreating into himself again.
He let the tired laughter of the group come over him as they sat around the dancing fire, waiting for it to dim down before putting it out completely and going to bed. The warm light illuminated Pecco’s face beautifully, he wished he could kiss him right then and there. For the first time in a while, it didn’t feel like he was performing. It just felt like being.
The next morning, the familiar buzz of Vale’s van pulling up stirred everyone from their sleep.
“Rise and shine, cowboys!” Vale’s voice rang out as he entered the house.
Luca rolled over under his blanket, blinking blearily at the ceiling. His muscles ached in that satisfying way that came from hours of riding. Pecco had fallen asleep beside him despite having a separate room, hair a complete mess, one arm flung dramatically over his eyes.
Luca sat up, brushing grit off his hoodie. His heart beat a little faster. He didn’t want to brace himself, but he always had to- even here.
“Morning!” Vale’s voice got louder as Luca made his way down the stairs.
He met his brother in the kitchen. Vale was grinning, a paper bag in one hand, “Look at this! I actually brought breakfast.”
Vale pulled him into a quick hug, and for a second, it felt okay, “You look skinny, sorellina,” Vale said, too casually, ruffling his hair. It felt like he got smacked and the world tilted a little.
Luca stepped back so fast it startled Vale, “Don’t,” he said, voice sharp and suddenly too loud. Vale knew, he was one of the few people who accepted him yet there it was, a reminder of who he was to everyone.
Vale blinked, thrown off by the shift in tone, “What? I didn’t mean-”
“It’s Luca,” he said, in a firm whisper so no one else heard. His hands were clenched at his sides, shaking with something he didn’t want to name, “You know that.”
Silence hung too loud in the kitchen. The smell of warm bread and sugar from the bag Vale brought was suddenly nauseating.
“I know, I know- shit. I’m sorry,” Vale muttered, voice low and pinched, “Habit. That’s all. I wasn’t thinking.”
Luca looked away. Habit. Like all the effort he’d put in didn’t matter. Like his identity was just a thing people could forget, a detail they could overlook.
Pecco appeared in the doorway, like he’d sensed it from upstairs. He wasn’t smiling now. He looked between the two brothers, jaw tense.
“Everything okay?” he asked, voice soft but steady.
Luca didn’t answer right away. He just nodded stiffly, then turned back to the counter, avoiding both their eyes. His throat felt too tight for words.
Vale shifted awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck, “I brought those little pastries you like,” he offered, like that might patch the moment over.
Luca opened the bag and pulled one out, ripping into it.
Pecco stepped beside him and gently bumped his shoulder. Not a word. Just a touch like a grounding weight.
“I’ll set the table,” Pecco said, already moving to grab plates.
Vale exhaled, “I’ll get the coffee going,” he said, and disappeared toward the machine.
The moment passed like a storm cloud just beginning to clear but the tension stayed in Luca’s chest.
Later, when breakfast was over and the others were milling about- Luca stepped outside, needing the open air.
He leaned against the porch railing, staring out at the track. Dust floated in the air, the morning sun casting everything in a soft light.
Footsteps followed behind him. Pecco, of course, “You okay?” he asked.
Luca nodded, then shook his head, “I don’t know. It shouldn’t still hurt like that, but it does. Every time.”
Pecco didn’t answer right away. He just stood beside him, looking out at the same stretch of dirt and sun and sky.
“I think…” Pecco started slowly, “it hurts because it matters. Because you’ve fought so hard to get here. And because he should know better.”
Luca let out a breath, shaky, “It makes me feel like I’m never going to be enough. Like no matter what I do, I’ll always be remembered as the little sister. Not the man I am.”
Pecco turned, his expression gentler than Luca had seen it in weeks, “You’re enough. Anyone who doesn’t see that is the one who’s not keeping up.”
Luca looked at him, something raw and unspoken behind his eyes. Then Pecco reached out and brushed a knuckle along Luca’s jaw.
“You didn’t have to do anything to earn that,” he said quietly. “You’re enough just because you’re you.”
Luca’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes burned. He wasn’t sure when Pecco had become the only person who could see him without looking through him but he was thankful for it.
“Thank you,” he whispered, and it was the only thing he could manage.
