Elia Santini - Tumblr Posts

“Do you want to hear something crazy?”

The words stir Filippo out of his wine-induced zen. He blinks, looking up from the careful way he had folded the white linen sheets on the hardwood ground; from where the strategically placed pillows offered comfort to stretched out bodies; to where Elia is propped up on his elbow, completely uncaring of the hard floors under the sheets. 

It had been Filippo’s idea; this pseudo bedroom floor picnic. Elia, as he’s wont to do when it comes to Filippo’s occasional dramatics, went with it, and brought home a bottle of cheap wine– of which Filippo immediately threw out and brought in a nice one. So here they laid, inches apart, with Filippo resting his head on the edge of his mattress and Elia sprawled out across the sheets like he’s been sprawled out across Filippo’s life for ages now.

It takes him a second to register what Elia had said; to register the careful eyes watching him, even as Elia reached for a sip of wine. “What scares you? The stench you came over with last night after football with the boys? It scared me too.”

Elia rolls his eyes, but Filippo can tell he’s serious when he doesn’t start waving his hands and babbling a mile a minute. So he tilts his head in exasperation and waits. 

“I think you’re scared of me.”

Filippo blinks again, stunned for a minute at the unusually serious words coming out of the most unserious person Filippo has ever met. “Excuse me?”

Weiterlesen

~Texts Between Bros~

Mercoledì 19:48

Martino: hey man. i just wanted to apologize again about what went down at Covitti’s party. It wasn’t cool of me to shove you. so i’m really sorry. 

Elia: it’s cool. really its fine. i shouldn’t have brought that shit up with your mom. 

Martino: and about the other stuff. are we cool?

i just want to make sure because luchino was so loud and you were quiet and i get if you’re processing or need some time

Elia: no not at all. we’re cool. 

Martino: ok 

20:13

Elia: I’m just so fucking sorry. I keep thinking back and I know I’ve said some stupid shit. some stupid, ignorant shit and i just want you to know that i take it all back and if that’s why it took you so long to talk to us about it, i don’t even know what to say. I’m sorry and I’ll never say anything stupid again.

Martino: YOU? Not saying stupid shit? Are you sure about that?

I didn’t talk about it because I didn’t accept myself. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, you know? I don’t blame you or anyone else. 

Elia: But it contributed to it, right?

Martino: a lot of stuff did. 

Elia: Then I’ll just say it. Martino Rametta, you are one of my best friends if you are sleeping with girls or boys or idk what else. I’ve got your back. And I’ll beat the shit out of anyone who says anything. And I’m sorry. 

skam italia + the windowsill

contrabbandieri di luchini

Elia was such a mood in today’s clip

4.2 bastardata | 7.3 pace - requested by anon

I’ve asked you if you’ll come to the lake with us and you didn’t answer.

giovanni “the supportive best friend who’ll protect you from anyone who tries to mess with you” garau

Do you remember when we went to the Argentinian’s volleyball pratice? […] At some point a guy… a guy came and said hi to me.  […] The guy who gave me the headphones back. Gio’s?

it’s him? yes.

Elia has been working up the courage to say it to someone because he just can’t hold it in any longer, these feelings that have been swirling around inside for weeks, ever since that night at the club when he’d somehow been talked into going with Martino, talked into going down to the ‘Gay Street’ for a night. Where he’d met Filippo for the first time, a bubbly, bright-haired guy with a brilliant smile that made Elia weak at the knees.

He’s been trying to figure out how to tell someone, anyone, and he figures Martino will at least understand.

He doesn’t entirely understand it himself, what he feels about Filo, except that when he’d found himself pressed into a wall with Filo standing over him, he hadn’t shoved him away. Elia hadn’t done anything except trace the curve of Filippo’s lips with his eyes, heart thudding in his chest, body tingling with excitement.

He hadn’t pushed Filo back when he’d leaned in, too close but not close enough, waiting for Elia to close the gap between them, giving him that choice. Elia doesn’t remember making the choice, but he remembers exactly how Filo’s lips had felt against his, Filo’s tongue sliding into his mouth, Filo’s hands around his waist.

He had even volunteered his phone number later on, after Filo had told him to go have fun with Marti and kiss someone his own age. He didn’t want to kiss someone his own age. He wanted to kiss Filo.

He’s been confused, but not confused, for a while. He keeps thinking about that night, thinking of Filippo’s text messages on his phone, the obvious flirting, the messages he’s jerked off to more than once over the past few weeks, and he knows there’s more to it than one slightly-drunken kiss at a club.

Elia isn’t quite sure what to do about the whole situation, and as he sits with Martino on the windowsill, he thinks if anyone is going to understand, it’s Martino, so he takes a breath and goes for it.

–

((For @lameri237 who requested Elia telling the boys about Filo. Well, you got one boy anyway.))

#three kinds of friend

#parents

What the fuck are you saying? Guys, we’re gonna have a nice beer at the pub in Trevignano.

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first and last appearance in season 2