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vmygdvlv · 19 days

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After hours: echoes of a night !

Genre: angst. series / part.ii

Pairing: valerio x riccardo + (some edoardo & cesare in the mix) italian boys!au

Summary: valerio finds himself drawn into the world of his older university peers, eager to fit in and prove himself. When they invite him out for a night of drinking and revelry, Valerio is excited but anxious, knowing that the crowd he’s with is more experienced and reckless.

Warnings: emotional distress, substance abuse, peer pressure, aggressive behavior

The morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, harsh and unforgiving, as Valerio groaned and rolled over in bed. His head pounded, each throb a painful reminder of the night before. He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the fog that clung to his mind. Every part of him felt heavy, weighed down by a mix of regret and the lingering effects of too much alcohol. But it wasn’t just the hangover that made him feel sick; it was the memory of Riccardo’s furious expression, the disappointment in his voice. Valerio couldn’t forget it, no matter how hard he tried. As he lay there, trying to piece together the events of the night, his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He grabbed it, squinting at the screen. Some friends’s unread messages from the night before.

Cez : Ricky called me after he found you. Are you okay?

Edo: You good Val?? Rick said you were pretty out of it, man.

Valerio stared at the messages, his stomach churning. The last thing he wanted was to face everyone after how things had gone down. But there was no avoiding it. He knew they’d all be coming over soon—probably to hash out what happened, probably to lay into him, just like Riccardo had. He sighed, dragging himself out of bed. Riccardo, who had spent the night in the spare room, emerged into the living room, his expression tight with lingering frustration. By the time Valerio made it to the kitchen, Riccardo was already there, leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee in hand. His face was hard, but there was a trace of concern in his eyes. The air between them was thick with unspoken tension. Valerio hesitated in the doorway, unsure of what to say.

“Morning,” Riccardo finally said, his voice flat.

“Morning,” Valerio replied, avoiding his gaze.

He could feel Riccardo’s disapproval radiating from across the room, but he wasn’t in the mood to deal with it. Not yet. Before they could say anything more, the bell’s ring broke the silence. Valerio reluctantly got up to answer, revealing Edoardo and Cesare on the other side. Both greeted him with casual smiles, but there was an undercurrent of tension in the air, the aftermath of the previous night still hanging over them.

“Can we come in?” Cesare asked, his tone clipped. Valerio nodded, stepping aside to let them in. They filed into the living room, each of them casting glances at Riccardo, who still hadn’t moved from his spot in the kitchen. The atmosphere was tense, like a storm cloud ready to burst.

“Hey, man,” Edoardo said, moving closer. “How are you feeling?”

Valerio shrugged, avoiding eye contact. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Cesare followed, his gaze flicking between Valerio and Riccardo, sensing the strained atmosphere. “We figured we’d check in on you, see how you’re doing after… everything.”

Valerio’s jaw tightened, irritation flaring up. “I’m fine, Cez. I don’t need a babysitter.”

Edoardo, sensing the tension, chimed in with a light-hearted tone. “Hey, we’re just here to hang out, no lectures. We all have our nights, right?”

Riccardo, who had been silent up until now, crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, his expression hardening. “Some of us know when to stop before things get out of hand.” The comment hung in the air, sharp and accusatory.

Valerio’s eyes narrowed, a defensive edge creeping into his voice. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Riccardo began, his voice low and controlled, “that last night was a disaster, Vale. You were reckless, and your so-called friends took advantage of that. You don’t see it, but you were this close to being in serious trouble.”

Edoardo stepped in, his tone calm but firm. “Ricky, come on, it wasn’t that bad. Vale was just blowing off some steam with his friends. We’ve all been there.” His voice was calm, almost too calm, as if he was trying to smooth things over before they escalated. “I’m not saying it was smart, but he’s not the only one to blame.”

Riccardo’s eyes narrowed as he turned to face Edoardo. “You’re defending him?” His voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. “You think what happened last night is just blowing off some steam? I don’t call that normal.”

Edoardo bristled, his own frustrations bubbling to the surface. “You’re overreacting. He didn’t need you to swoop in and save him. He’s not a kid, and he doesn’t need you controlling every aspect of his life.”

The words hit him hard, but his expression remained stoic. “I’m not trying to control him. I’m trying to keep him from making mistakes that he’ll regret later. But you wouldn’t understand that, would you?”

Before Valerio could respond, Edoardo’s voice cut through, low and heated. “And who keeps you in check, Ricky? You’re so busy trying to control everything that you’re pushing everyone away. Vale isn’t a project for you to manage.”

Riccardo’s temper snapped. “You think I’m trying to control him? I’m trying to protect him from ending up like you—drowning in mistakes you can’t take back.”

The words hung in the air like a slap. Edoardo’s eyes darkened, his expression a mix of hurt and fury. Edoardo’s face darkened, a hint of guilt flickering in his eyes as Riccardo’s words struck a nerve. “And now, what’s that supposed to mean uhm?”

Riccardo’s voice was cold, calculated. “It means I’ve seen how you acted on your nights out. You’re defending him because you see a bit of yourself in him. But this isn’t about you, and it’s not about being right. It’s about keeping him safe.”

Edoardo didn’t back down, his expression hardening. “And what’s your plan? To scare him into submission? You can’t control everything he does. None of us can—to be honest, you need to stop to control everything we do.”

Riccardo’s jaw clenched, the accusation striking a nerve. “You’re one to talk about control. You’ve got your own issues, Edo. Or have you forgotten all those nights where you didn’t know when to stop?” The room went still, the air thick with the weight of Riccardo’s words.

Edoardo’s thoughts had drifted elsewhere—back to his own battles with alcohol, to nights he wished he could forget. He knew what it was like to lose control, to let the bottle dictate your actions. And seeing Valerio now, caught in the same destructive cycle, brought an uncomfortable realization crashing down on him. It wasn’t that long ago when Edoardo himself had stumbled home after one too many drinks, his vision blurred, his mind clouded with poor decisions. There were moments—flashes—where he remembered Riccardo’s concerned gaze, the unspoken judgment, and the subtle way he’d try to steer him away from another drink. He had brushed it off back then, laughed it away with the same bravado Valerio had shown last night. But deep down, he knew Riccardo saw right through him, just as he was now seeing through the youngest boy.

Edoardo leaned forward, breaking the silence. “Look,” he started, his voice calm but edged with a quiet plea, “He made a mistake, sure. But we’ve all been there, right? We’ve all had those nights where things got out of hand. What matters is that he’s here now, that he’s okay.”

Riccardo’s eyes flicked over to him, a shadow of something unspoken passing between them. He knew exactly what his friend was trying to do, and the subtle tremor in Edoardo’s voice didn’t go unnoticed. Riccardo’s jaw tightened slightly as he replied, choosing his words carefully. “It’s not just about one night. It’s about the pattern, the choices. You can’t keep pretending it’s all just harmless fun when it’s starting to spiral.”

Cesare, who had been watching the argument unfold, finally stepped in, his voice steady and calm. “Guys come on, this isn’t the solution. We’re supposed to be here for helping, not fighting with each other.”

Valerio, who had been silent throughout the exchange, suddenly snapped. “You’re all talking like I’m not even here! I don’t need you fighting my battles for me, and I don’t need you treating me like I’m some kind of problem that needs fixing.”

Riccardo turned to him, his voice softer but still firm. “We’re just worried about you. Last night was out of control, and I don’t want to see you go down a path you can’t come back from.”

Valerio scoffed, his irritation boiling over. “You’re always worried. Always hovering, always trying to fix things. Maybe I just want to live my life without you breathing down my neck.”

Edoardo, sensing an opening, nodded in agreement. “He’s right. He’s old enough to make his own decisions. We all make mistakes, but he should be able to learn from them without you constantly watching over him.”

Riccardo’s jaw clenched, the frustration evident in his eyes. “I’m not trying to suffocate him, but someone has to look out for him. You weren’t there last night. You didn’t see how bad it was.”

Cesare, seeing the argument spiraling out of control, stepped forward, raising his hands in a calming gesture. “Enough. This isn’t getting us anywhere. We’re all friends here. Let’s just take a step back and talk this through.”

But Valerio, still simmering with anger, wasn’t ready to let it go. “You all think you know what’s best for me, but you don’t. I’m not some kid who needs rescuing every time things get a little rough.”

The room fell into a tense silence, the weight of Valerio’s words hanging in the air. Riccardo, feeling the sting of Valerio’s rejection, looked at him with a mix of hurt and frustration. “Vale, I just want what’s best for you. But if you can’t see that, then maybe I’m wasting my time.”

The words were harsh, cutting deeper than Riccardo intended, but the frustration of the last few days had taken its toll. Valerio’s eyes hardened, his expression unreadable. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, his phone buzzed on the table. Valerio glanced at the screen, and his face darkened as he read the name. It was one of the older peers from the night before, a reminder of the chaos that had started all this. Ignoring the tension in the room, he took the phone.

Andrea

Hey man, u good?? You kinda took off last night (11.04am)

Let me know when you’re free (11.07am)

Valerio’s grip on the phone tightened, his eyes flicking to Riccardo, who stood silently, his expression unreadable. The room felt charged, as if it was on the brink of another explosion. But this time, Riccardo took a deep breath, calming himself. “We seriously need to talk about this. But not like this. Let’s take a step back, cool down, and figure this out together.”

The words were reasonable, measured, but Valerio wasn’t ready to listen. The anger, the embarrassment, and the pressure all coalesced into a wall he wasn’t ready to break down. “Well, seriously, I don’t need your help. I can handle this myself,” his voice tinged with defiance. The argument wasn’t over—far from it—but for now, it simmered just below the surface, waiting for the next spark to reignite it. Valerio’s abrupt tone echoed in the room, hanging heavy in the tense silence that followed. He put his phone down with a finality that made it clear the conversation was over—for now.

Riccardo’s eyes narrowed as he processed Valerio’s words, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. He was torn between wanting to shake some sense into Valerio and stepping back to let him make his own mistakes. But the protective instinct within him was too strong to ignore. Before the oldest could respond, Cesare cleared his throat, breaking the thick silence. He had been watching the tension escalate, hoping it would fizzle out, but it was clear that wasn’t going to happen.

“Look,” Cesare began cautiously, his tone diplomatic, “we’re all just trying to help here. Vale, we get that you want to handle things on your own, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to listen to Ricky. He’s only looking out for you.”

Valerio shot him a look, the defiance in his eyes barely masked. “I’m not some project for him to fix. I know you guys think you’re helping, but this isn’t your problem.”

Edoardo, who had been quiet since Riccardo’s subtle dig earlier, felt the need to jump in, his loyalty to Valerio driving him to speak. “He’s right. He doesn’t need you playing the overprotective brother. Maybe if you backed off a little, he wouldn’t feel so cornered.”

Riccardo’s gaze snapped to Edoardo, his temper flaring again. “This isn’t about playing big brother, Edo. Last night was a mess, and it could’ve been worse if I hadn’t stepped in. You didn’t see what I saw—he was out of control, and those older guys were more than happy to push him further.”

Valerio bristled at Riccardo’s words, his temper flaring up once more. “I didn’t ask you to step in! You act like you’re the only one who knows what’s best for me, but you’re not. You’re just—”

“Just what?” He interrupted, his voice rising. “Just trying to keep you from doing something stupid? Just trying to make sure you don’t end up regretting things later? Yeah, Valerio, that’s exactly what I’m doing. Because someone has to!”

He clenched his fists, his voice hardening. “Maybe I don’t want your help! Maybe I just want to figure things out on my own without you breathing down my neck all the time!”

The room fell into a tense silence again, the argument teetering on the edge of something deeper, something that had been building for a while. Riccardo took a deep breath, trying to rein in his anger. He could see that Valerio was pushing back harder than ever, but he couldn’t just let this go.

Cesare, sensing that the situation was getting dangerously close to boiling over, tried to steer the conversation in a different direction. “Look, maybe we’re all just tired and stressed out. We’ve been through a lot these past few days. Let’s not tear each other apart over this.”

But Riccardo wasn’t ready to let it go, not yet. “You’re right, we have been through a lot. But this isn’t something we can just brush off. He’s not seeing the bigger picture here, and if he keeps going down this path, things are going to get worse.”Valerio, feeling cornered and defensive, shot back with an edge in his voice. “The bigger picture? You’re acting like I’m falling apart, but I’m not! I’m handling things the way I need to, and I don’t need you judging me for it.”

Riccardo’s expression darkened, his frustration reaching its peak. “Handling it? You call getting wasted with a bunch of guys who don’t give a damn about you handling it? Come on, you’re smarter than this. You’re better than this.”

Valerio’s eyes flashed with anger, his voice trembling slightly. “Don’t you dare lecture me about being better. You think you know everything, but you don’t. You have no idea what it’s like to feel like you’re constantly under a microscope, like you can’t make a single mistake without everyone jumping down your throat. It’s fucking exhausting!”

Riccardo’s temper flared at that, but before he could respond, Valerio’s phone buzzed again on the table, breaking the tension momentarily. Valerio grabbed it, his expression souring as he read the message. He muttered a curse under his breath, his frustration mounting.

“What now?” Riccardo asked, his tone sharp.

Valerio didn’t answer immediately, his eyes scanning the screen. Then he turned the phone toward Riccardo, showing him the message. It was from one of the older peers, another taunting remark, this time with a link to the video from the night before. The video was even worse than he’d imagined—Valerio, clearly intoxicated, egged on by the older students as they pushed him into doing more shots, the entire scene a blur of loud music, slurred voices, and reckless behavior.

Riccardo’s face went cold as he watched the clip, his anger mixing with a deep sense of concern. “This is what you call handling it?” he asked, his voice low, almost dangerous. “This is what you wanted to do last night?”

Valerio’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t back down. “It’s not your business what I do with my friends.”

“Not my business?” Riccardo’s voice rose again. “Valerio, this isn’t just some harmless fun. These guys don’t care about you. They’re just using you for a laugh, and you’re letting them.”

“Enough!” Valerio snapped, his voice cracking with a mixture of anger and something deeper, something vulnerable. “You’re not my dad, you’re not in charge of me. Just—back off!”

Riccardo opened his mouth to retort, but Cesare stepped in, once again, his voice firm. “Alright, stop it. You’re acting immature and this isn’t helping anyone. You need to cool down before you end up saying something you’ll both regret.”

But Riccardo’s gaze remained locked on Valerio, his frustration barely contained. He was about to argue further when he realized the futility of it—Valerio wasn’t going to listen, not now, not while he was this defensive. Taking a deep breath, Riccardo forced himself to step back, his voice strained. “Fine. You want space? You’ve got it. But don’t think this conversation is over.”

Valerio watched as Riccardo turned and left the room, his emotions swirling in a confusing mix of anger, guilt, and exhaustion. As the door closed behind him, Valerio slumped back onto the couch, staring blankly at the video still playing on his phone. The tension in the room was palpable, and for a moment, no one spoke. Finally, Edoardo, who had been watching the entire exchange with a troubled expression, shook his head and muttered, “This is messed up.” Valerio didn’t respond, his thoughts a jumbled mess. He knew, deep down, that Riccardo was right—that he had gotten in over his head. But admitting that, even to himself, felt like a defeat he wasn’t ready to accept.

The tension lingered in the air long after Riccardo left the room, his heavy footsteps echoing down the hallway. Valerio remained slouched on the couch, staring blankly at the phone in his hand. The video had stopped playing, but the scenes replayed in his mind, each frame a reminder of how far things had spiraled out of control. His heart pounded with a confusing mix of anger and shame. Part of him knew Riccardo was right, but admitting that felt like giving up some essential part of himself—his independence, his pride. Edoardo shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glancing over at Cesare, who was watching Valerio with a careful, measured expression.

Finally, Edoardo broke the silence, his voice softer than before. “You okay, man?” Valerio didn’t answer immediately. When he finally looked up, his eyes were hardened, his defenses back up. “I’m fine. Just tired of everyone acting like I’m some kind of screw-up.”

Cesare sighed, leaning forward. “No one thinks that. Ricky’s just worried. We all are. Last night—it got out of hand, and we’re just trying to make sure you’re alright.”

Valerio clenched his jaw, frustration flaring up again. “I don’t need everyone treating me like a kid. I know what I’m doing, alright? Let me breathe.”

Edoardo frowned, a pang of guilt tightening his chest. He could see so much of himself in Valerio—he knew what it was like to push back, to act like everything was under control when it wasn’t. “Look, I get it,” Edoardo said, his voice careful. “But Riccardo’s not wrong, either. Those guys… they’re not really your friends, you know?”

Valerio shot him a sharp look. “And who are you to say that? You barely know them.”

Edoardo hesitated, a flicker of something vulnerable crossing his face. “I know enough. And I know what it’s like to get caught up in that scene. It’s easy to think you’re just having fun, but it can turn on you fast.”

Valerio’s gaze narrowed. “You’re saying I’m just like you, huh? That I’ve got a problem?”

Edoardo stiffened, feeling the sting of the words. Before he could respond, Cesare stepped in, his voice calm but firm. “Alright, watch it. We’re not here to judge anyone. But you’ve got to understand that we’re coming from a place of concern, not control.”

He scoffed, but the edge in his voice was less sharp than before. “Yeah, well, I don’t need concern. I need people to trust me to figure things out.”

Cesare nodded slowly, choosing his words carefully. “We do trust you, Vale. But trust goes both ways. You’ve got to trust that when Riccardo, or any of us, step in, it’s because we care, not because we think you’re incapable.” There was a heavy pause as Valerio absorbed Cesare’s words. He looked down at his phone again, the screen dark and blank now, and took a deep breath.

“I get it, okay? But you’ve all got to back off a little. Let me deal with this.”

Edoardo exchanged a glance with Cesare, who gave a slight nod. Edoardo turned back to Valerio, his tone gentler now. “Alright. But just… don’t shut us out, man. We’re here when you need us.” Valerio didn’t respond, but the tension in his shoulders eased just a little. He knew deep down that he wasn’t handling things as well as he wanted to believe, but admitting that felt like crossing a line he wasn’t ready for. Just as the silence settled over the room again, Valerio’s phone buzzed, breaking the moment. He glanced at the screen and felt a jolt of irritation as he saw the name of one of his older peers flash across it. Without thinking, he answered the call, putting it on speaker.

“Valerio!” The voice on the other end was loud, almost obnoxiously so. “Man, last night was wild, huh? We’ve got to do that again sometime.”

His expression hardened, a mixture of embarrassment and anger tightening his chest. “Yeah, about that…” he began, but the peer cut him off with a laugh.

“Oh, don’t be a downer. You’re one of us now. Just need to loosen up a bit more, and you’ll fit right in.”

Riccardo’s words from earlier echoed in his mind, and a fresh wave of anger surged through him. “You guys left me at the club, remember? That’s not exactly how friends act.”

The peer’s laugh faded slightly, replaced by a tone of indifference. “Come on, don’t be so sensitive. We figured you could handle yourself. Besides, it was all in good fun.” Valerio’s grip tightened on the phone, but before he could respond, Riccardo’s voice broke through the tension. He had walked back into the room without anyone noticing, his expression dark and resolute.

“Fun? Is that what you call it? Getting him trashed and leaving him to fend for himself?” There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line. “Who the hell is that?”

“The guy who had to pick up the pieces after you bailed,” Riccardo shot back, his voice cold. “And let me make this clear—Valerio’s not your entertainment. He’s done with you and your bullshit.” Valerio’s eyes widened, torn between anger and relief as he watched Riccardo take control of the situation. The peer on the other end stammered something incoherent before the line went dead, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. Riccardo stared down at Valerio, his expression softening slightly, but the anger was still there, simmering just below the surface.

“This isn’t over. But for now, you need to figure out who your real friends are.” He met his gaze, the weight of Riccardo’s words sinking in. He knew Riccardo was right, even if he didn’t want to admit it. But there was still that stubborn part of him that resisted, that didn’t want to give Riccardo the satisfaction of being right. Before he could respond, Riccardo turned and walked out of the room again, leaving Valerio to sit with his thoughts. Edoardo and Cesare exchanged a look, unsure of what to say. They both knew this was just the beginning of a much longer conversation—one that wouldn’t be resolved in a single morning.

Valerio’s thoughts churned, each one crashing against the next in a relentless wave of frustration, guilt, and defiance. The silence stretched out, thick and uncomfortable, as Edoardo and Cesare exchanged wary glances. They were used to Riccardo’s overbearing nature, but the intensity of the confrontation had left even them on edge.

Finally, Cesare spoke, his voice cautious. “Vale, he’s just worried about you. You know that, right?”

Valerio stared at the phone in his hand, his mind replaying the events of the night before like a broken record. The drinking, the laughter that had turned hollow, the way his so-called friends had ditched him without a second thought. But what gnawed at him most was the way Riccardo had stormed in, taking control of the situation like Valerio was some helpless kid who couldn’t handle his own life. It made his blood boil.

“I don’t need him handling my shit,” Valerio muttered, more to himself than to the others.

Edoardo leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “He’s not trying to handle it, man. He’s trying to protect you. There’s a difference.”

“Is there?” He shot back, his eyes flashing with anger. “Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it. It feels like he doesn’t think I can handle anything on my own.”

Edoardo bit back a sigh, recognizing the familiar tone in Valerio’s voice. It was the same defiance he had used countless times when people tried to tell him he had a problem. He had always pushed them away, too proud or too stubborn to admit he was spiraling. He could see Valerio was on that same path, and it terrified him.

“Look,” Edoardo said, choosing his words carefully, “I know what it’s like to feel like people are coming down on you, like they don’t trust you. But sometimes, they’re right to be worried. Sometimes you’re too deep in it to see how bad things are getting.”

Valerio’s jaw tightened. “I’m not you, Edoardo. I’ve got this under control.”

“Do you?” Edoardo’s voice was sharper than he intended, his own frustration bubbling to the surface. “Because last night didn’t look like control to me. It looked like you were being used by those guys, and you didn’t even realize it.”

Valerio’s eyes blazed with anger. “I don’t need a lecture from you, alright? You’re not exactly a saint. Nobody here is.”

The words hit home, and Edoardo flinched, the accusation cutting deep. But before he could respond, Cesare intervened, stepping between them like a mediator. “Okay, cut the shit,” he said firmly. “Drop the attitude Vale, because we’re not your enemies here. We’re just trying to make sure you don’t end up in a worse situation.”

Valerio crossed his arms, his anger still simmering just below the surface. “You’re all making it out to be more than it is. It was one night.”

“Was it?” Riccardo’s voice suddenly cut through the tension as he re-entered the room, his expression stony. He had clearly overheard the conversation, and the look in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t done with this discussion. “Because this feels like it’s been building for a while now.”

Valerio glared at him. “Oh please, you’re overreacting.”

Riccardo stepped closer, his presence imposing. “Maybe. But I’d rather overreact now than have to scrape you off the pavement later because you decided to trust the wrong people.”

Valerio’s chest tightened, the reality of Riccardo’s words hitting harder than he wanted to admit. But he couldn’t back down now, not after everything that had been said. “You don’t get it. You think you’re helping, but you’re just suffocating me. I need space to figure things out on my own.”

“And what about when that space gets you into trouble?” Riccardo shot back, his voice rising. “You think those guys care about you? They left you to rot as soon as things got messy. That’s not friendship, Valerio. That’s manipulation.”

Edoardo, sensing the situation escalating again, stepped in front of Riccardo, trying to defuse the tension. “Ricky, ease up. We’re all on the same side here.”

But Riccardo wasn’t backing down. “Are we? Because it seems like everyone’s just enabling him, pretending this isn’t a bigger problem.”

Valerio’s anger flared. “I don’t need you to babysit me!”

“I’m not trying to babysit you!” Riccardo snapped, his control slipping. “I’m trying to make sure you don’t end up in a situation you can’t walk away from.”

“Like what?” Valerio challenged, his voice rising. “What do you think’s going to happen?”

“Worst case?” Riccardo said, his voice deadly serious. “You get into a car with someone drunker than you are, or you get into a fight you can’t win, or you pass out in some alley and never wake up. That’s what I’m afraid of, Valerio. That’s what keeps me up at night.”

The room fell into a heavy silence as the weight of Riccardo’s words sank in. Even Edoardo, who had been ready to argue further, couldn’t find a response. Cesare looked between them, his own concern etched on his face, but he didn’t know how to bridge the gap that had grown between them all. Finally, Valerio looked away, his anger replaced by a hollow feeling he couldn’t shake.

“I’m not that stupid,” he muttered, though his voice lacked conviction.

“I know you’re not. But you’re also not invincible. None of us are.” Riccardo’s expression softened, but his resolve remained.

Valerio didn’t respond, his thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess. The truth was, he didn’t know where to go from here. He felt trapped between his pride and the undeniable fact that Riccardo might be right. He couldn’t meet his gaze. The reality of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks. He felt sick, ashamed, but also angry at himself, at those so-called friends, and at Riccardo for being right all along. Riccardo handed the phone back without a word, then turned to leave the room, his patience finally exhausted.

“You figure out what you want. But don’t expect me to just stand by and watch you destroy yourself.”

As he walked out, the tension in the room remained thick and suffocating. He had never felt so lost, so conflicted. He wanted to lash out, to deny everything, but deep down, he knew the truth was staring him in the face. Edoardo shifted uneasily, his own guilt and fear gnawing at him. He wanted to say something, anything, to break the silence, but he knew Valerio needed time to process everything.

Finally, Valerio spoke, his voice low and strained. “I—I screwed up, didn’t I?”

Cesare, who had been silently watching from the sidelines, nodded slowly. “Yeah, Vale, you did. But we’re talking about Ricky, he gets aggressive when scared. You know he loves you and he will always, always, worry about you. About all of us. So it’s not too late to fix it.” Valerio looked up at his friends, the weight of their concern pressing down on him. For the first time, he realized just how far he had pushed them away, how much he had taken their support for granted. And now, standing on the edge of something he couldn’t fully understand, he wasn’t sure how to make things right. But one thing was clear—he couldn’t do it alone.

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vmygdvlv · 24 days

Text

After Hours: echoes of a night !

Genre: angst. series / part.i

Pairing: valerio x riccardo + (some Edoardo & Cesare in the mix) italian boys!au

Summary: valerio finds himself drawn into the world of his older university peers, eager to fit in and prove himself. when they invite him out for a night of drinking and revelry, valerio is excited but anxious, knowing that the crowd he’s with is more experienced and reckless.

Warnings: emotional distress, substance abuse, peer pressure, aggressive behavior

The tension in the small apartment was palpable. Valerio’s place, typically a haven of calm and order, had transformed into a raucous gathering spot. The cluttered living room was a stark contrast to its usual neatness, with snacks and half-empty glasses strewn across the floor. The sound of loud laughter and clinking bottles filled the space as Valerio’s older peers took over.

Luca, a tall figure with an air of effortless charm, was holding court. “Tonight’s going to be epic,” he declared, his voice carrying an edge of bravado. “And let’s not forget, it’s Andrea’s birthday. We’re going all out!”

Andrea, the birthday boy, grinned broadly, raising a nearly full glass in a toast. “Cheers to another year of living it up!” He downed his drink with exaggerated gusto, prompting cheers from the group. Valerio, caught between the excitement of the night and the unease of his disheveled home, tried to keep up the facade of confidence. His attempts to join in the conversation felt hollow, a stark contrast to the wild energy of his friends. He moved around, picking up after them, though his gestures were more resigned than enthusiastic.

“Hey, Valerio, don’t sweat it,” Marta said with a teasing lilt in her voice. She was perched on the arm of the sofa, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s a party, not a library.”

Valerio managed a tight smile. “Yeah, I guess. Just trying to keep things from getting too crazy.”

Marta’s laughter was cut short by Luca’s booming voice. “Come on, let loose! We’re celebrating Andrea’s big day, remember?”

The apartment, once a serene sanctuary, now echoed with the sounds of unchecked revelry. Bottles clattered as they were opened and closed, music blared from a portable speaker, and the group’s loud conversation reverberated off the walls. Valerio’s initial excitement was overshadowed by a growing sense of anxiety. He was keenly aware of every misplaced item and every spilled drink, the mess a stark contrast to his usual orderliness.

A loud crash from the kitchen interrupted Valerio’s thoughts. He hurried over to find that someone had knocked a stack of plates onto the floor. The pieces were scattered, and the wine that had been spilled mixed with shards of porcelain. Andrea and Luca were in the middle of it, laughing as they tried to clear the mess with little regard for the damage.

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” Andrea said dismissively, stepping over the broken plates. “It’s just a bit of fun.” Valerio’s frustration bubbled up, but he forced himself to keep calm. “Can we try to keep it down a bit? It’s a lot to clean up.”

“Relax,” Luca replied with a dismissive wave. “We’re just having a good time. It’s not the end of the world.”

As the evening progressed, the energy in the room was infectious. The group’s laughter and animated chatter filled the space, creating a sense of camaraderie that Valerio tried to embrace. He put on a brave face, masking his anxiety with a veneer of excitement. He was eager to make a good impression and prove himself to his friends, even if it meant pushing his limits. In the midst of the preparations, Valerio’s phone buzzed with a message from Riccardo. It was a simple, straightforward text: “How’s everything going? Remember to be careful tonight.”

Valerio’s stomach tightened slightly. Riccardo, though well-meaning, had always been a bit overprotective. He was like an older brother, and while Valerio appreciated the concern, he didn’t want to appear as though he couldn’t handle himself. He quickly typed a reply, trying to keep it casual. He texted back: “Everything’s great! Just getting ready for a fun night out. I’ll be fine.” Valerio sighed and tucked his phone into his pocket, deciding to leave it behind for the night. He was determined to embrace the freedom of the evening, even if it meant temporarily disconnecting from his usual support system.

As the group finished getting ready, Valerio’s mind wandered back to Riccardo’s text. He knew his friend was just looking out for him, but the thought of him hovering in the background added an extra layer of pressure. He wanted to prove that he could navigate the nightlife on his own, without anyone’s interference.

“Alright, everyone, let’s get going!” Luca shouted over the din. “Time to hit the pub and keep this party rolling!”

The clock ticked closer to midnight, and the group decided it was time to head out. They gathered their things, with Valerio feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. His friends were chatting animatedly, and he tried to match their enthusiasm, though he could not completely shake the feeling of unease that lingered beneath the surface.

Before leaving, he glanced at his phone one last time. There was another message from Riccardo, this one more concerned. “Just checking in. Remember, I’m only a call away if you need anything.” He sighed and tucked his phone into his pocket, deciding to leave it behind for the night. He was determined to embrace the freedom of the evening, even if it meant temporarily disconnecting from his usual support system.

As the group spilled out into the chilly night air, their laughter echoing down the street, he took a deep breath, trying to shake off his lingering doubts. Tonight was about enjoying himself and proving he could hold his own. He pushed aside any lingering anxiety, focusing on the camaraderie and the promise of an exciting night ahead. Little did he know that the night would unravel in ways he hadn’t anticipated, setting off a series of events that would test his limits and the strength of his friendships. But for now, as they made their way to the pub, he was determined to enjoy the moment and make the most of the evening.

Across the table, his friends laughed loudly, already deep into their drinks. The bar was dimly lit, filled with the low hum of conversations and the clinking of glasses. Luca nudged him with an elbow.

“Vale, why so quiet? You’re not bailing on us, are you?”Valerio forced a grin, raising his glass. “Nah, just… trying to keep up with you guys,” he said, the alcohol making his words slur slightly.

Marta leaned in closer, her voice dripping with mock concern. “You sure? You look like you’ve had enough already.”

“Hey, let the kid drink!” Andrea, shouted, laughing. “He’s gotta learn sometime.”

Valerio’s phone buzzed, but he quickly shoved it deeper into his pocket, ignoring the concerned glances from his friends. He didn’t need anyone’s interference tonight. But deep down, a knot of anxiety twisted in his stomach, once he tried to drown with another gulp of beer. His vision blurred even further. He laughed along with the others, but it felt hollow, forced. He was barely holding it together.

Marta noticed, her smile turning a bit sharper. “You sure you can handle this? You’re looking a little worse for wear.”

He nodded too quickly, the motion making his head spin. “I’m fine, really. Just need to… sit for a minute.”

Andrea exchanged a glance with Marta, smirking. “Maybe he’s more lightweight than we thought. Should’ve stuck to soda, kid.” The teasing hit harder than it should have, and Valerio’s pride flared. “I’m not a kid,” he snapped, trying to steady himself. “I can handle it.”

Marta raised an eyebrow. “Prove it, then. One more shot?”

He hesitated, but the challenge was too much to back down from. He reached for the shot glass Marta slid over, trying to ignore the way his hand shook. Just as he brought it to his lips, his phone buzzed again. This time, it was a text.

Riccardo. Again. “Vale, answer your damn phone. I’m worried. Call me back.” He glanced at the message, a pang of guilt momentarily cutting through the haze. But he shoved it aside, downing the shot in one go. The liquid burned on the way down, and he nearly gagged, but forced himself to swallow. His friends cheered, but the victory felt hollow. Everything felt hollow.

A while later, he stumbled outside for air, the cool night hitting him hard. His head was spinning as he stumbled out of the club, the thumping bass still reverberating in his ears. The cool night air hit him like a slap, but it did little to clear the fog in his mind. He fumbled with his phone, blinking hard to focus on the screen. His vision blurred as he tried to dial Riccardo’s number. His hand shook, partly from the cold, but mostly from the alcohol coursing through his veins. His mind was a chaotic mess of regret and anger. He hadn’t wanted to call Riccardo—he knew how furious his older friend would be—but he didn’t see any other option.

The night had started innocently enough. A few drinks, some laughs with the older guys from his sound engineering program, an attempt to fit in. He had been eager to prove he wasn’t just the young, inexperienced student they all saw him as. But things had quickly spiraled out of control. The older students, with their easy confidence and their years of experience, had pushed him further than he was ready to go. Drinks kept coming, faster than he could manage, and before he knew it, Valerio was far past his limit.

Riccardo paced back and forth in his living room, the clock on the wall ticking relentlessly. It was past two in the morning and he hadn’t heard from Valerio since earlier that evening. The last text had been short, almost dismissive: “Heading out with some friends. Don’t wait up.” It wasn’t like him to be so vague. Usually, he was upfront about his plans, especially when it came to going out late. But something about tonight had felt off, and his instincts were screaming that something was wrong.

He grabbed his phone and opened the call log. The sight of his unanswered calls and unread texts only fueled his growing frustration. He’d tried to give Valerio space, tried to respect that he was an adult now, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Valerio was in over his head. These older guys from university—they weren’t the kind of people he trusted. They were the type who saw Valerio as an easy mark, someone they could mold into their own image. He dialed Valerio’s number again, but it went straight to voicemail. He swore under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “Damn it, Vale, where the hell are you?”

He tossed his phone on the couch and sat down, trying to think rationally. He knew he couldn’t just storm in and drag Valerio home like a child. But the thought of him out there, possibly drunk and surrounded by people who didn’t have his best interests at heart, gnawed at him. He had seen this kind of thing before—he’d watched friends fall into bad crowds, make bad decisions, and end up paying the price. And he’d be damned if he was going to let Valerio end up the same way.

Now, standing outside the club, feeling the world tilt dangerously, Valerio cursed under his breath. He had ignored his friend’s calls earlier, too caught up in the thrill of the night to care. But now, as he swayed on the sidewalk, the weight of his mistake pressed down on him. He knew Riccardo had warned him about this group, had told him to be careful. But he hadn’t listened. He wanted to prove himself, to show he could handle it. Instead, he had ended up here—drunk, alone, and desperate.

The phone rang in his hand, and after what felt like an eternity, Riccardo picked up. His voice was sharp, tinged with a mix of relief and anger. “Where the hell are you?”

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady. “I… I’m outside the club. Need… need you to pick me up.”

There was a brief silence on the other end, and Valerio could almost picture Riccardo’s expression—tight-lipped, eyes narrowed in frustration. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Riccardo finally said, his tone dangerously calm. “I’ve been calling you for hours. Hours. And now you decide to answer?”

“I… I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his words slurring together. “Didn’t… didn’t see the calls.”

Riccardo let out a harsh laugh, the sound devoid of humor. “You didn’t see them? Or you ignored them? Because I’m pretty sure you were too busy getting trashed with those so-called friends of yours.”

Valerio winced at the accusation, shame prickling at the back of his neck. He knew his friend was right, but admitting it felt like swallowing glass. “I wasn’t… I just—”

“Save it,” Riccardo cut him off, his voice hardening. “Just tell me where you are.”

Valerio gave him the address, his stomach churning with a mix of guilt and nausea. He heard Riccardo mutter something under his breath before the line went dead. The abruptness of the hang-up left him standing in the cold, the silence pressing down on him. He shoved the phone back into his pocket, feeling more alone than ever. Minutes passed like hours, the cold seeping into the bones as he waited. He tried to ignore the looks from passersby, their judgmental glances only heightening his sense of humiliation. He knew he had messed up—badly. And now he would have to face Riccardo’s wrath. When he car finally pulled up, his heart sank. He could see the tension in Riccardo’s posture even before he got out of the car. The older man’s face was a mask of controlled anger as he approached, his eyes locking onto him with a look that could burn through steel.

“Get in the car,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Valerio didn’t argue. He could feel Riccardo’s fury simmering beneath the surface, and the last thing he wanted was to set it off. He slid into the passenger seat, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated. The door slammed shut beside him, and the sound echoed like a gunshot in the quiet street. Riccardo got in behind the wheel, his hands gripping it so tightly his knuckles turned white. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence thick with tension. Valerio could feel the anger radiating off Riccardo, a palpable force that made the air in the car feel stifling.

Finally, Riccardo broke the silence, his voice cold and sharp. “What the hell were you thinking? Going out with those guys, getting drunk off your ass… What were you trying to prove?”

Valerio stared at his hands, his shame battling with the lingering buzz of alcohol. “They said it would be fun.”

“Fun?” Riccardo spat the word like it was poison. “Does this look like fun to you? Being so drunk you can barely stand? Having to call me to bail you out?”

“I didn’t want to call you!” Valerio snapped, his frustration boiling over. “I knew you’d react like this!”

Riccardo’s eyes flashed with anger. “React like what? Like someone who gives a damn about you? Because, believe me, I’m the only one who does! Those friends of yours left you out here to rot. They didn’t care what happened to you, and you’re too damn blind to see it!”

Valerio clenched his fists, the words cutting deep. He wanted to argue, to defend himself, but he knew Riccardo was right. The truth was hard to swallow, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth. “I’m not a kid. I can make my own decisions.”

“Yeah? Well, you made a hell of a decision tonight, didn’t you?” Riccardo’s voice was laced with sarcasm, his anger barely contained. “You think you’re proving something by getting wasted with people who don’t give a damn about you? You’re only proving how easy you are to manipulate.”

Valerio’s chest tightened, the words hitting harder than he expected. “I just… I wanted them to take me seriously.”

Riccardo let out a bitter laugh. “And did they? Did they take you seriously when they left you out here? When they pushed you to drink more even though you were clearly out of your depth?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. He didn’t have an answer. He knew Riccardo was right, but admitting it felt like a defeat. Instead, he turned his gaze to the window, staring at the passing lights as the car sped through the empty streets.

The silence stretched on, thick and oppressive. Valerio’s thoughts were a tangled mess, the alcohol making it hard to focus. But one thing was clear—he had messed up, and there was no easy way to fix it. When they finally pulled up to Valerio’s apartment, Riccardo turned off the engine but didn’t move to get out. He sat there, his hands still gripping the wheel, his jaw clenched tight. Valerio could feel the tension radiating off him, the anger that had yet to fully dissipate.

“Valerio,” Riccardo began, his voice softer now but still laced with frustration, “I need you to understand something. I’m not just angry because you got drunk. I’m angry because you put yourself in a situation where you could’ve been seriously hurt. And for what? To impress a bunch of guys who don’t give a damn about you?”

Valerio swallowed hard, his throat dry. “I didn’t think it would go this far.”

“That’s the problem,” Riccardo said, his voice tinged with sadness. “You didn’t think. You were so caught up in trying to fit in that you forgot to take care of yourself.”

Valerio nodded slowly, the weight of Riccardo’s words pressing down on him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to get this bad.”

Riccardo finally released the wheel, turning to look at Valerio. The anger had faded from his eyes, replaced by a deep concern. “Just… promise me you’ll be more careful next time. I don’t want to have to come find you like this again.”

Valerio met his gaze, the guilt gnawing at him. “I promise.”

The late night air was crisp and cool, a stark contrast to the warmth of the arguments and emotions that had filled the previous night. Valerio, now sober but visibly drained, shuffled out of the car and leaned against the passenger side, taking a moment to steady himself. Riccardo watched Valerio with a mixture of concern and frustration. He had insisted on staying the night to ensure that Valerio was safe and had a chance to reflect on the events of the previous night. There was an unspoken understanding between them—Riccardo’s presence was both a gesture of support and a necessary intervention.

“Let’s get inside,” Riccardo said, his voice softer now but still carrying an edge of determination. He nodded, though his expression was a blend of embarrassment and resignation. He led the way into the apartment, unlocking the door with a trembling hand. As they stepped inside, Riccardo glanced around, noting the disarray of the living space. Empty bottles and takeout containers were scattered about, remnants of a night that had spiraled out of control.

Valerio dropped his keys on the kitchen counter and sighed, clearly exhausted. “I didn’t expect you to stay over,” he said, trying to mask the vulnerability in his voice with a note of defiance. Riccardo closed the door behind them and followed Valerio into the living room. “I wasn’t going to leave you alone after everything.” he replied firmly. “You need to take some time to calm down and think about what happened. I’m not going to let you do that by yourself.”

Valerio rubbed his temples, the weight of the previous night’s events pressing heavily on his shoulders. “I get it,” he said, sounding more resigned than defensive. “I’m just… tired.”

Riccardo nodded, a heavy silence settling between them. “Good. Now get some sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

He knew things would be different after this—his relationship with Riccardo, his view of his so-called friends, and his understanding of what it meant to make the right choices. As he collapsed onto his bed, the room spinning around him, Valerio couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight had been a turning point. And as much as he hated to admit it, he was grateful that Riccardo had been there to pull him back from the edge.

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