#strollini

[scrollonso]

might write some fluff based on lance's first podium

[gayferrari]

Lol 🤣 it’s Logan sargeant/marco bezzecchi & lance stroll/luca marini https://www.tumblr.com/gayferrari/763530619262222336/ship-classification-strollini-sargecchi

omgg sorry I was HUNGRY

Logan/Bez: doesn't make sense doesn't compel me! I feel like Bez's freak would Not match Logan's everything

Lance/Luca: DOES MAKE SENSE!!! doesn't compel me yet but I'm looking. they have similar babygirl vibes. I see it.

[mirroredfurnituresale]

Strollini Nightstand

Strollini Nightstand

[scrollonso]

Part Of The Family — Bearnelli

Vale and his sons had always been a tight-knit family, bound not only by blood but by the bond on track at the ranch. The academy wasn’t just a place to train — it was a sanctuary, a home where riders, blood or not, became family. Whether you were an old friend or a new face, you were welcomed with open arms, but that didn’t mean you were free from scrutiny. Trust was earned, and everyone who stepped onto the ranch knew that you had to prove yourself, not just as a rider but as someone who understood the unique bond shared by Vale and his boys.

When Ollie first started hanging around Kimi, it wasn’t long before the academy boys began to notice how seamlessly the two fit into each other’s lives. It wasn’t just that they spent a lot of time together; it was the ease with which they did it. The way Kimi would light up when Ollie was around, the comfortable silences they shared, the subtle, unspoken understanding between them — it was obvious to everyone. From the outside, it seemed like Ollie had slipped into Kimi’s life as if he’d always been there.

It didn’t take long before the academy boys began to exchange knowing glances. To them, it was clear as day. Kimi and Ollie weren’t just friends — they were something more. Maybe they hadn’t realized it themselves yet, but to the rest of the group, the signs were all there. Kimi’s laugh was just a little louder when Ollie cracked a joke, and Ollie’s gaze lingered just a little longer when Kimi walked by. The way they worked together during training, almost in sync, seemed too natural to be purely platonic.

Still, in typical academy fashion, no one said anything outright. They just watched, waiting for the inevitable moment when the two would finally admit what everyone else had already figured out. The scrutiny was subtle at first, but as the days passed, the protective nature of the academy boys kicked in, and Ollie found himself on the receiving end of a series of increasingly pointed comments and warnings.

Pecco was the first to pull Ollie aside. It was during one of their post-training sessions, when the rest of the academy was scattered around the ranch, cooling down from the day’s work. Ollie was wiping the sweat from his brow when Pecco, who had been watching him for a while, walked up with a determined look on his face. Crossing his arms, Pecco stared at him, his eyes narrowing in a way that made Ollie feel like he was about to be grilled.

“Don’t hurt Andrea,” Pecco said, his tone firm, almost like a protective older brother issuing an ultimatum.

Ollie blinked, completely taken aback. His mind raced, trying to figure out what Pecco meant by that. Why would he hurt Kimi? Where was this even coming from? He opened his mouth to respond, but the words came out in a stammer. “Why would I—?”

Pecco didn’t let him finish. “Just don’t,” he cut in, his voice final, leaving no room for argument. The warning hung in the air, and Ollie was left speechless. Pecco gave him one last pointed look before walking off, leaving Ollie standing there, utterly baffled.

For a while, Ollie convinced himself that maybe Pecco was just being overprotective, maybe even a little paranoid. But then, a few days later, Franky caught him alone. It was during one of their routine training drills, and Ollie was focused on his bike when Franky appeared, his expression unreadable. He didn’t waste time on small talk. Instead, he got straight to the point, his voice low and serious.

“You better treat Kimi right,” Franky said, his tone carrying the weight of someone who wasn’t just offering advice — he was delivering a warning.

Ollie, once again, found himself at a loss for words. His brain scrambled for a response, but he could only manage a nervous stammer. “I— I don’t know what you’re—”

Franky’s expression didn’t soften. He simply gave a nod, as if to say the conversation was over, and walked off, leaving Ollie more confused than ever. What was going on? Why were they acting like this?

It seemed like everyone had some unspoken knowledge that Ollie was completely in the dark about. Each warning felt heavier than the last, and Ollie couldn’t shake the feeling that something big was happening right under his nose — something he hadn’t figured out yet.

Before long, it felt like Ollie couldn’t go anywhere without running into one of the academy boys, and every encounter seemed to end with some form of cryptic warning or veiled threat. Bez, usually the most laid-back of the group, caught him during a rare quiet moment by the garage. With a grin, he slapped Ollie on the back, but his words were anything but casual. “Andrea's important to us, man. Don’t screw it up.”

Ollie blinked, caught off guard by the comment. “Screw what up?” he asked, but Bez just walked away with a knowing smirk, leaving Ollie even more confused than before.

The next day, Cele found Ollie grabbing a drink by the track and leaned in conspiratorially, his tone more serious than usual. “We’re all watching you, just so you know. Kimi’s family. You better not mess with him.”

Ollie stared at him, dumbfounded. “I’m not messing with anyone!” he protested, but Cele had already given him a pat on the shoulder and walked off, his message delivered.

By the time Mig cornered him during one of the cool-down sessions, Ollie was already on edge, bracing himself for whatever strange advice or threat was coming next. Mig, ever the quiet one, didn’t say much — just gave Ollie a long, appraising look before muttering, “You know how much Kimi means to us, right? Just… don’t do anything stupid.”

At this point, Ollie was utterly baffled and increasingly paranoid. It felt like everyone had some sort of hidden agenda, and he was the only one out of the loop. Every interaction left him more confused than the last, and by the end of the week, he was at his breaking point.

“I don’t even know what’s happening!” Ollie finally burst out, throwing his hands in the air in frustration while he and Luca were walking back to the house after training. “Every time I turn around, someone’s telling me not to hurt Kimi or warning me to treat him right. What the hell is going on?”

Luca, who had been quietly observing the whole situation for ages, smirked knowingly. “They think you’re dating,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "They did the same thing when I first brought Lance."

Ollie almost choked on his own breath. “What?!” he sputtered, stopping in his tracks. “No! Kimi’s like a brother to me! Why would they even think that?”

Luca raised an eyebrow, shrugging as if it all made perfect sense. “Well,” he started, “you two are always together. I mean, you spend practically every second at the ranch with Kimi. And he’s… different around you. More comfortable, you know? Plus, you fit right in with the rest of us. It looks pretty obvious from the outside.”

Ollie shook his head, still in disbelief. “We’re not dating,” he insisted, rubbing his face in exasperation. “How do I get them to stop thinking that?”

Luca shrugged again, a casual smile tugging at his lips. “You could try telling them,” he offered, his tone playful. “But I’m not sure they’ll believe you.”

Ollie and Kimi decided it was finally time to sit everyone down and clear up the ongoing confusion. They'd been hearing whispers and side comments for a while now, and it was starting to get out of hand. So, they gathered the entire group in the dining room, preparing themselves for what they knew would be an awkward conversation.

With everyone seated around them, Ollie nervously cleared his throat and began. "So, uh, we’ve heard some things," he started, his voice faltering slightly.

Kimi, who was sitting beside him, rolled his eyes at Ollie’s hesitance and decided to cut straight to the point. "Everyone apparently thinks we’re dating."

Ollie quickly nodded in agreement, glancing around at their friends. "Yeah, but we’re not," he clarified, hoping that would put an end to the rumors.

But before they could say more, the entire group burst into laughter. The teasing smiles on the others' faces made Kimi and Ollie even more defensive, shifting uncomfortably in their seats.

"What!" Kimi blurted out, his voice a mix of exasperation and disbelief. "He’s like another brother to me. What are you guys even talking about?"

Ollie was quick to chime in, nodding vigorously to reinforce Kimi’s point. "Seriously, we’re just friends."

But the laughter didn’t stop. Bez, leaning back in his chair, let out a chuckle and shook his head, clearly amused by their flustered reactions, he was the same when Vale confronted him about him and Marc. "Whatever you say," he said, his tone light and teasing.

The rest of the group groaned, half-joking and half-exasperated. It was obvious they weren’t entirely convinced, but after a few more jokes, they let the subject drop — for now, at least. The tension in the room faded as they moved on to other topics, but Kimi and Ollie exchanged a look, knowing that this probably wasn’t the last time they’d have to deal with this particular misunderstanding.

About a week later, during a particularly large family meeting at the ranch, Kimi found himself standing up in front of everyone, his face flushed and his hands nervously clasped together. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he tried to muster up the courage to speak. "So, um… I’ve been thinking… And I may-or-may-not-be-in-love-with-Ollie."

The room fell into an expectant silence. It was as if time had paused for a moment. But instead of the shock or surprise Kimi might have anticipated, the reaction was quite different. Pecco let out a long, exasperated groan that was quickly echoed by the rest of the boys, who seemed almost exasperated by the whole situation.

"We know!" Cele muttered under his breath, shaking his head with a mix of annoyance and amusement.

"Seriously, it took you this long to figure it out?" Luca chimed in, rolling his eyes as he gathered his things to leave. The other boys followed suit, their steps echoing with a casual familiarity.

Kimi stood there, frozen in place, his face a mask of disbelief and confusion. He turned to look at Ollie, who was blinking in stunned realization. "Wait, so… everyone knew except us?"

"Obviously," Bez called over his shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips as he walked out of the room. The rest of the group followed, their laughter and chatter fading as they left Kimi and Ollie standing in the middle of the room, completely dumbfounded and caught off guard.

As the last of the footsteps receded, Kimi and Ollie exchanged a bewildered glance, their minds racing to process what had just happened. The realization that they had been the last to know about something so significant left them both speechless, adding a new layer of awkwardness to their already complicated situation.

Kimi and Ollie remained in the center of the room, the weight of the situation settling heavily between them. Kimi stared at the empty doorway where the others had just exited, trying to process the wave of information that had just crashed over him.

"How… how did everyone know?" Kimi finally managed to ask, his voice tinged with bewilderment.

Ollie, still grappling with his own shock, shook his head. "I have no idea. I thought we were being subtle."

Kimi let out a disbelieving laugh, his eyes scanning the now-empty room as if expecting an explanation to materialize out of thin air. "Subtle? Everyone knew we were dancing around something, and you didn’t think anyone would notice?"

Ollie’s face turned a shade of pink, a mix of embarrassment and frustration evident in his expression. "I didn’t think it was that obvious. I thought we were doing okay."

"Well, it wasn’t exactly a secret," Kimi said, trying to force a sense of humor into the situation to ease the tension. "I guess we just didn’t see it."

Ollie sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "So, what now? Do we just… go with it?"

Kimi took a deep breath, his gaze meeting Ollie’s. The awkwardness of the situation seemed to dissolve as they stood there, confronting the reality of their feelings. “Maybe it’s not about just going with it,” Kimi said softly. “Maybe it’s about acknowledging what’s been there all along, eh?”

Ollie’s eyes searched Kimi’s, looking for any sign of hesitation or doubt. “Yeah, I guess we should actually talk about this,” he said, his voice steady but filled with a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

Kimi nodded, feeling a surge of courage. “Agreed. But before we dive into all of that, maybe we should just—” He hesitated for a moment, then took a step closer to Ollie. The distance between them felt charged, and he could sense Ollie’s own nervous energy.

Ollie’s eyes widened slightly as Kimi got on the tips of his toes and gently cupped his face with both hands. The touch was tender, and for a moment, everything else faded away. Kimi leaned in slowly, giving Ollie ample time to pull back if he wanted to.

Ollie’s breath hitched as their faces drew closer, and before he could second-guess himself, he closed the gap between them. Their lips met in a soft, hesitant kiss that gradually deepened as they both gave in to the moment. The kiss was a mixture of relief, affection, and unspoken understanding — a confirmation of the feelings they had both been trying to navigate.

When they finally pulled away, both Kimi and Ollie were breathless, their eyes locked in a gaze filled with newfound clarity.

“I guess that’s one way to handle it,” Ollie said with a small smile, his hand still resting gently on Kimi’s cheek.

Kimi chuckled softly, his heart still racing. “Yeah, I think it’s a good start.”

As Kimi and Ollie stood in the middle of the room, still processing their kiss, the door creaked open. Kimi’s brothers, who had been lingering just outside, peeked in with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

Luca, with a smirk on his face, was the first to speak. “Well, this is a surprise,” he said, raising an eyebrow as he took in the scene before him.

Pecco, with a more puzzled expression, stepped into the room, glancing between Kimi and Ollie. “We didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said, though his tone suggested otherwise.

Ollie and Kimi quickly pulled apart, their faces flushing with embarrassment as they realized they had been caught in the middle of their little intimate moment. Kimi looked at his brothers, his cheeks red with a mix of shame and frustration. “Guys, seriously? You couldn’t knock?”

Luca chuckled, clearly enjoying the moment. “We were just coming to see if you two were okay. And, well, it looks like you are.”

Marco nodded, a knowing smile on his face. “Seems like you two had a lot to talk about.”

Ollie rubbed the back of his neck, trying to regain his composure. “Yeah, we did. But now we’re, uh, a little thrown off.”

Kimi’s face softened as he glanced at Ollie, then back at his brothers. “Well, now that you’re here, I guess you’ve figured out what’s been going on.”

Luca shrugged, his smirk widening. “Yeah, we figured it out a while ago. But it’s nice to see you two finally acknowledging it.”

Franky stepped forward, offering a supportive smile. “If you guys need any advice or just want to talk, you know we’re here for you.”

Kimi and Ollie exchanged relieved glances, their tension easing slightly at their brothers' acceptance. Kimi gave a small nod, appreciating the support. “Thanks. We’ll definitely take you up on that.”

As Kimi’s brothers left the room, still chuckling and exchanging knowing looks, Kimi turned back to Ollie, taking a deep breath. “Well... at least it’s out in the open now.”

Ollie smiled, squeezing Kimi’s hand. “Yeah, it is.”

[scrollonso]

welcome to a little world i like to call "me and sage being insane!" @boxboxluckybird

ok so basically. we're crazy and make these boys who've never interacted kiss on the lips! now i'll show you:

lance stroll x luca marini = strollini! theyre so in love >-<

cele vietti + liam lawson + jack doohan = lawhanetti..?

franco colapinto + paul aron = colaron.. idfk leave me alone

oscar piastri + pedro acosta = pedroscar

checo perez + pol espargaro = esperez or smth

i think thats all of them so far. not counting marcmarc, sargecchi, or bearnelli bc we didn't make those 😸💯

[scrollonso]

Thank You — Strollini

The sun was high over Vale’s ranch, its golden rays beating down on the sprawling landscape. Dust floated in the air, kicked up by the bikes that roared across the dirt track. The heat was intense, making the earth dry and cracked, but the academy riders were unfazed. They were in their element, cutting through the sweltering afternoon with the precision and confidence of those born to ride. The track was their playground, each twist and turn a familiar challenge they eagerly embraced. Laughter rang out above the growl of engines, a sound of pure joy that echoed off the surrounding hills.

Among the seasoned riders, there was one figure who stood out — not because of skill, but because of his hesitance. Lance Stroll, usually at home behind the wheel of a F1 car, was out of his depth. His grip on the handlebars was too tight, his posture a little too stiff. The motorcycle beneath him felt foreign, its power more raw and unpredictable than the refined machines he was used to. But despite the nerves gnawing at him, he was determined. A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, though it was more from sheer willpower than genuine confidence. He wasn’t about to back down, not here, not in front of Luca’s brother and friends. The embarrassment of admitting he wasn’t cut out for this would be too much to bear.

“Caro, you sure you’re okay with this?” Luca called out, his voice carrying a blend of concern and encouragement. He slowed his pace, falling back to keep an eye on Lance. He could see the tension in the way Lance handled the bike, the mix of caution and determination that marked every move.

“Yeah, I’ve got this!” Lance’s reply came quickly, his tone firm but betraying a hint of the anxiety he felt. He forced a smile, hoping it would be enough to convince Luca — and himself — that he could handle it.

Luca gave a small nod, though his eyes lingered on Lance, the worry not entirely erased. He knew how stubborn Lance could be, how much pride he took in proving himself. But this was different — this wasn’t the controlled environment of a racetrack he knew inside out. This was something wild, something that could easily go wrong. Even as the others zipped past them, their bikes leaning gracefully into the corners with practiced ease, Luca’s focus remained on his boyfriend. He couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling gnawing at the back of his mind.

Lance, meanwhile, did his best to keep up. His focus was razor-sharp, his mind blocking out everything except the path in front of him. The roar of the engine, the dust flying in his wake, the sun beating down on his back — it all faded into the background. He was getting the hang of it, finding a rhythm, even if it was slower than the others. The turns were still tricky, each one a battle to stay upright, but he was doing it. He felt a surge of pride with each successful maneuver, a growing belief that he could pull this off.

But as they neared the last stretch, something inside him urged him to push harder, to prove that he could do more than just keep up. He wanted to impress Luca, to show the others that he wasn’t just some car driver trying to play in their world. He twisted the throttle, feeling the bike surge forward, the speed intoxicating. For a brief moment, he felt the thrill of it, the exhilaration of matching the pace of the others.

Then it all went wrong.

As he approached the next corner, Lance misjudged his speed. The bike wobbled, the back tire slipping on the loose dirt. Before he could react, the bike skidded out from under him, the world tilting violently as he was thrown off. He hit the ground hard, the impact jarring every bone in his body. Pain exploded through him, radiating from his wrists as he instinctively tried to break his fall. The breath was knocked out of him, leaving him gasping as he lay on the ground, his helmeted head resting in the dirt.

The sounds of laughter and chatter that had filled the air just moments before died instantly. The other riders, catching sight of the crash, skidded to a halt, their bikes kicking up clouds of dust as they did. Everyone, Marco, Pecco, Franky, Cele, and Mig, all turned their heads toward the scene, their smiles fading as they registered what had happened.

Lance lay there, unmoving, his bike a twisted heap a few feet away, smoke curling up from where the engine had stalled. The silence that followed was heavy, charged with a sudden, sinking realization.

For a moment, no one really moved. The dust settled around Lance’s prone form, the world eerily still compared to the chaos of just moments before. The academy riders exchanged uncertain glances, their expressions a mix of shock and confusion.

Pecco was the first to speak, trying to lighten the mood. “He’s probably just winded,” he said, but his voice lacked the usual cocky confidence. It sounded more like he was trying to convince himself. “I mean, he’s not used to this, right?”

Marco forced a chuckle, though it came out strained. “Yeah, he’s probably fine. Just needs a minute to catch his breath.” But his eyes didn’t leave Lance, the doubt creeping in.

Franky and Cele stayed quiet, their attention fixed on Lance, who still hadn’t moved. Mig hesitated, taking a step forward as if to check on him, but then stopped, unsure of what to do.

Luca’s heart was pounding in his chest, the sound of his own pulse loud in his ears. Something was wrong — he could feel it deep in his gut. The others might have thought Lance was just being overly cautious or exaggerating the fall, but Luca knew better. He could see the tension in Lance’s body, the way he wasn’t moving his hands, wasn’t trying to get up. The laughter, the easygoing banter — it all felt wrong now, like a distant memory from a different day.

Without a second thought, Luca pulled off his helmet and dropped it to the ground. He sprinted toward Lance, his boots kicking up dirt as he closed the distance. His breath came in quick, shallow bursts, fear gripping him tighter with each step.

“Lance!” Luca’s voice cracked as he called out, panic lacing his words. He dropped to his knees beside Lance, his hands hovering over him, afraid to touch but desperate to do something, anything. “Hey, can you hear me?”

Lance groaned in response, the sound low and pained. He tried to move, to lift his head, but the effort made him wince, and he collapsed back onto the ground. “Ange… I think… I think I broke something,” he gasped, his voice trembling with the effort of speaking. "God this is so fucking embarrassing" He almost laughed, shaking his head at himself.

Luca’s eyes widened as he saw the unnatural angle of Lance’s wrists. His heart skipped a beat, but he forced himself to stay calm. “It’s okay, amore,” he said softly, his voice steady and soothing despite the fear gnawing at him. “Don’t move, alright? Just stay still.”

He reached out, his hands gentle as he took hold of Lance’s arms, careful not to cause any more pain. “I’m right here,” Luca continued, keeping his tone light, almost tender. “We’re going to get you fixed up. Don’t worry about anything else.”

Lance winced but tried to smile, though the effort was weak. “I’m such an idiot… I should’ve just said no,” he muttered, frustration and pain evident in his voice. “This is so embarrassing.”

Luca shook his head, brushing a few strands of hair from Lance’s forehead with a feather-light touch. “Don’t say that,” he murmured, his tone full of affection. “You were amazing out there. You tried something new, and that’s more than anyone could ask for. We’ll laugh about this later, okay?”

The others, realizing the severity of the situation, quickly gathered around. Marco’s usual bravado had melted away, replaced by a concerned frown. Pecco’s earlier smirk was long gone, his face serious as he looked down at Lance. Franky, Cele, and Mig stood a little further back, their expressions grim.

Marco knelt down beside Luca, his voice low and urgent, afraid to freak Lance out. “We need to call an ambulance. He might have broken both his wrists.”

Luca nodded, but his focus remained on Lance. “Marco, can you make the call?” he asked, his voice still calm but carrying an underlying edge of urgency.

Marco fumbled for his phone, his hands trembling slightly as he dialed. “They’re on their way,” he said after a moment, his voice tense. “They’ll be here soon.”

Luca turned his attention back to Lance, who was starting to look a little pale. He kept his hands on Lance’s arms, not moving them but offering a constant, reassuring presence. “Hey, look at me,” he said gently, trying to keep Lance focused. “We’re going to get you to the hospital, and they’ll take care of everything. Just keep breathing, okay? You’re doing great.”

Lance’s breathing was shallow, each inhale a struggle against the pain, but he nodded slightly. The fear that had gripped him when he first hit the ground was slowly ebbing away, replaced by the comfort of Luca’s voice, the warmth of his touch. Even through the pain, there was a sense of relief that Luca was there, calm and unshakable.

Luca smiled down at him, his eyes full of warmth and affection. “We’ve got you, Lance. You’re going to be just fine,” he whispered, leaning in closer so Lance could hear him clearly. “Just keep your eyes on me.”

The sound of approaching sirens cut through the air, growing louder with each passing second. Luca didn’t look away from Lance, didn’t let go of him even as the paramedics arrived and started to work. He stayed right there, his voice a constant, soothing presence, guiding Lance through the pain, through the fear.

As the paramedics carefully moved Lance onto the stretcher, immobilizing his wrists with practiced precision, Luca kept talking to him, his tone light and reassuring. He climbed into the ambulance beside Lance, holding his hand the entire time, his touch gentle and steady.

The other riders watched as the ambulance sped away, their faces a mix of guilt and worry. The ranch, once filled with the sounds of laughter and the thrill of racing, now felt quiet and empty, the weight of what had happened settling heavily over them. But even in the midst of their concern, there was a quiet respect for Luca’s calm, for the way he’d held it together when Lance needed him most.

The ambulance ride to the hospital had been tense, but Luca never let go of Lance’s hand, his calm presence a constant source of comfort. As they arrived at the emergency room, the paramedics quickly wheeled Lance through the double doors, the cool, sterile air of the hospital a stark contrast to the hot, dusty ranch. Luca stayed close, his heart racing, but his demeanor steady.

Nurses and doctors took over, assessing Lance’s injuries with swift efficiency. They began speaking in medical terms that blurred together in Luca’s mind, but he stayed focused on Lance, squeezing his hand gently every now and then to remind him he was there. Lance’s face was pale, the pain evident in the way he bit down on his lip, trying not to let it show too much. He’d always been tough, but this was different — this wasn’t a race crash; this was a different kind of hurt.

“Okay, Mr. Stroll, we’re going to take you for some X-rays to see the extent of the damage,” one of the doctors said, his tone professional but kind. “We’ll take good care of you.”

Lance nodded, his eyes flickering to Luca, who smiled reassuringly. “I’ll be right here when you’re done,” Luca promised, leaning down to press a quick kiss to Lance’s forehead. “You’re doing great, caro. Just hang in there.”

Lance managed a small, grateful smile before the doctors wheeled him away, disappearing down the hallway. Luca stood there for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched them go. The calm he’d maintained for Lance’s sake was starting to crack, worry seeping through the edges. But he knew he couldn’t let it take over — not yet.

He found a chair in the waiting area, running a hand through his hair as he tried to steady himself. The hospital was busy, the constant hum of activity around him almost soothing in its familiarity. He’d been in places like this before, with racing accidents and close calls, but this felt different. This was Lance, his Lance, and the thought of him in pain, of him being hurt, was almost too much to bear.

Time seemed to drag on as he waited. Every few minutes, he checked his phone, responding to the messages from the academy boys, who were anxiously waiting for updates. They all felt guilty, even though no one could have predicted what had happened. Luca reassured them that Lance was in good hands, that he’d keep them posted as soon as he knew more.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a doctor approached Luca. “Mr. Marini?” he asked, recognizing him from the emergency room earlier. Luca stood up quickly, his heart leaping into his throat.

“How is he?” Luca asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

The doctor gave him a reassuring smile. “Lance has fractured both of his wrists,” he explained, “but the fractures are clean, and we’re optimistic that with proper treatment and rest, he’ll make a full recovery. We’ve set the bones and put casts on both wrists. He’s going to be sore for a while, and he’ll need some help with day-to-day things, but he’ll be okay.”

Luca let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, relief flooding through him. “Can I see him?”

“Of course,” the doctor replied. “He’s just coming out of anesthesia, but you can go in. He’ll be in some pain as he wakes up, but we’ve got him on medication to help manage it.”

Luca nodded, thanking the doctor before heading down the hallway to Lance’s room. When he entered, the sight of Lance lying in the hospital bed, his wrists encased in white casts, brought a fresh wave of emotion. But Luca pushed it down, focusing on the relief that Lance was going to be okay.

Lance’s eyes fluttered open as Luca approached, his gaze a little unfocused from the lingering effects of the anesthesia. When he saw Luca, a small, tired smile tugged at his lips. “Hey,” he croaked, his voice raspy.

“Hey, you,” Luca replied softly, pulling a chair up beside the bed and taking Lance’s hand — the one that wasn’t too sore — in his. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got run over by a truck,” Lance admitted, his smile fading as the pain began to register. He shifted slightly, wincing as he moved his wrists. “But the doctor said it’s just a few fractures, right? Nothing too serious?”

“Yeah,” Luca confirmed, squeezing his hand gently. “They’ve set the bones, and with some rest, you’ll be back to your old self in no time. But you’ll need to take it easy for a while. No more trying to show off, okay?”

Lance huffed out a weak laugh. “Yeah, lesson learned,” he muttered, though there was still a hint of self-reproach in his tone. “I’m sorry, Luca. I should’ve been more careful.”

“Don’t apologize,” Luca said firmly, leaning in closer so that Lance could see the sincerity in his eyes. “You did your best, and that’s all that matters. I’m just glad you’re okay. I was so worried.”

Lance looked at him for a long moment, the weight of his own fears and guilt slowly easing under Luca’s gentle gaze. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “For everything.”

“Always,” Luca murmured, brushing a soft kiss against Lance’s knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere.”

[scrollonso]

okay. expanding on strollini >-<

-they first met when luca went to the canadian gp 2017 (he was just planning on going to the italian gp but then vale was invited by monster/mercedes so he came along)

-lance scored his first points and luca (in an attempt to be away from vale and people that knew him as vale's brother) ran into lance and congratulated him and they hit it off right away

-later that season he went to the italian gp and again, lance scored points so the canadian joked that luca was his lucky charm

-they got super close super fast (nepo baby bond)

-after the last race of the season lance went back to italy to spend most of the break with luca

-they had just finished dinner and were now walking back to luca's apartment when he randomly asked "be my boyfriend?"

-it was very embarrassing and he was like "nonono im joking like- not really. unless you want to be my boyfriend then like sure but i don't..." and (for once) lance was super calm and just kissed him 😸

-luca became a VERY public lance supporter and was constantly posting pictures of their "friend dates"

-both luca and lance became very well known in the formula/moto world because of eachother

-during the 2018 italian gp lance got in the points again, after this it became a tradition to, no matter the result, spend the night together in italy after the races

-pecco found out about lance and luca first, walking in on them cuddled up together after the moto2 italian gp (that race is like their little thing)

-luca was scared to tell vale for the first like two years of their relationship (though vale had an idea of what was going on) because after vale and marc broke up vale had some very not so nice things to say about marc that werent very nice about him being gay (vale ur gay too..) so luca was convinced he was homophobic

-cele figured it out himself and never told anyone he knew because he didnt care that much

-bez found out in 2020 when they were teammates, it was literally just because he was too stupid to realize "oh they arent just kinda gay best friends theyre like in love"

-vale found out one of the first times lance went to the ranch because luca ended up having a minor crash and lance took him away to tend to his wounds. vale followed a little later and heard lance comforting a crying luca, constantly telling him how much he loves him and how its all going to be okay and he was like "yeah maybe they are gay"

-that night he talked to luca and reassured him everything was fine and vale loved lance because he could tell how happy he made luca

-the rest of the academy boys gradually found out and the more they thought abt it the more it made sense

-lance ended up moving in with luca in late 2019 and was determined to become fluent in italian for his boyfriend (who was already decent with french for him)

-they were first seen (romantically) together at the portugal gp 2021 (lance was there supporting luca then 2 weeks later luca was there supporting lance)

uh and thats all i got rn.

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NEW STROLLINI EDIT

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more strollini

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hear me out.

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more 1018 thoughts.

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Scrollonso Brainrot Universe!! Part 2

Lance's boys

-Not including Mick, he'll be mentioned later

-With Este and Ollie being teammates in 2025 it makes sense for Lance to get closer to Ollie and eventually start bringing him around the ranch

-Ollie adores Delilah, and really just babies in general but especially that little curly haired toddler

-Este and Ollie will take Delilah for Lance when he's busy with media duties (Luca usually tagging along because these two are inseperable since they got married)

-Once they took Delilah on the drivers parade and half the grid just sat and listened to her talk to them about her Babbo's crazy brother (Vale is the certified crazy uncle)

-Ollie is super childish, he is a baby yk, so he loves when any of the babies ask him to play

-Este takes Antonio around to run errands sometimes because it attracts HELLA BITCHES. and he loves it!

-Delilah spends so much time with Ollie that she's gotten a little baby british accent

Strollini's boys

-Now Lance and Luca are both pretty close to Jack and Mick, hence why they're both of theirs

-Mick isn't allowed to babysit ANYONE (Antonia, Catalina, or Delilah) without Jack's supervision

-These two have probably fucked about 100 times and gotten confused as two gay dads with triplets just as much

-Not too much to say abt them tbh, just crazy

Luca's girls

-Domi and Marta ARE the lesbians of the group and I stand by this

-Marta's pregnant with their little IVF baby who is gonna be the 3rd baby girl of the group

-Yes, Luca WAS engaged to Marta but they both realized they were too gay to function and cried and said sorry and broke it off

-They're 4lifers tho!! Their babies will get on amazingly because I said so

-Marta taught Luca how to do hair, Domi trying to get Lance to let Luca touch Delilah's hair (she got gum stuck in it once when she was 16 months old and Luca shaved her bald so he doesn't trust him)

-There is not a single straight person in my brainrot world and the wags are no acception

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lance's first instagram post after him and luca get married

plus them breaking twitter a bit

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ANOTHER strollini edit

[scrollonso]

Married Life - Strollini

Lance never thought he would have this.

And he means this. This, right here.

Forget the wedding night. 

He did think he would have one, or multiple ones at that. He thought it would be drunken, and he thought it would lead to a regret-filled morning. Whoever he got married to was supposed to look at him like he was a stranger come the first light of morning. Sometimes he thought it would find him on a ship, other times that he wouldn’t even recognize where he was, sometimes he thought it would happen with the whole world looking at him and smirking. Everyone knew how they felt about him, everyone decided he was undeserving of love the point where Lance had begun to believe it himself.

Once — yeah, just the one time — he thought it could be something like this. Just after Checo married Carola, he dared to think —

And then he told himself not to.

In short, Lance never thought it would come true. Yet, here he is. And here Luca is. And it’s not a ship, and everyone isn't laughing at him; instead, it’s something he can call his. 

Some body he can call his, not that Lance thinks Luca could ever be owned by anybody, or be anything but his own. Luca is strong, he's determined, he's independent, Lance is certain he's perfect.

Still, when the two of them walk into their now shared house, leaving the alcohol and energy of the afterparty at the venue, a wave of joy engulfs Lance to the point where he feels like crying. 

They stand — Lance and Luca — side by side. They nudge their door open and exchange a small smile when it keeps itself steady in its hinges. 

Luca's hand sneaks into Lance's, and God, it’s his right. Their wedding bands might be different, Lance's silver instead of gold, Luca insisted — "We don't need to match, caro." "You're stunning in silver." — but the metal still chills Lance's skin where they meet. It gives Lance a full-body shiver, like that ting of something cold against his warmth is what really drives this home.

Like, wow, fuck, he’s married. To the love of his fucking life, nonetheless. Jesus. Okay. Wow. This is as real as it gets. 

Seconds tick by and they’re still standing there — Luca spooks when they hear Wendy and her babies barking at eachother from the livingroom. 

“Right,” Lance says in reaction like he’s trying to convince himself that the yaps spurred him into action. 

Luca clears his throat. “Did you know, I had to carry Marta back to her table after her heel broke?” Marta? Really? That was the first thing he thought of to spark up a conversation with his new husband.

“That’s funny,” Lance comments dryly, “and I’d love to discuss it later, but maybe don’t talk about your ex five minutes after saying I do .” He considers for a beat. “Unless you were offering?”

Luca turns to him and looks him up and down. “Yeah, I could carry you.”

That makes them both burst into laughter and suddenly it’s easy to take that one extra step. Together, they tumble into their right-now-home. From there, it doesn’t take even take that much to end up on the bed — neither of them is tipsy. Lance didn’t even have a sip of anything, that’s how much he wanted to remember every single little detail of this and burn it into his memory forever, well, just in case, not that he thinks he’ll need it. But they’re married, for fuck’s sake. They’re allowed to tumble and trip and fall on top of each other. 

All of a sudden, Luca's face grows serious. Moonlight being the only source of light, he looks just like he did such a long time ago, with an oxford blur piece of silk in his hand. About to twirl Lance's world and twist it until it’s inside out, upside down. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Luca says reverently, and Lance still can’t believe that somebody should speak to him like this. Like somebody knows that he needs to hear it; like somebody recognizes him for it. 

Giggles die in Lance's mouth, too, and he subconsciously replaces it with a soft, almost unwilling smirk. No idea what to say, though.

Sheepishly, he looks down — his fingers sneak their way onto Luca's thigh. The skin underneath his pants is hot and warms Lance's palm within seconds. “You too,” he says. “You looked beautiful today, Luca. Look beautiful every day, really.”

“Oh, shush,”  Luca urges. “Hey, kiss me instead.”

Lance's smile grows a bit. “Maybe I will if you call me beautiful again.”

“Maybe I will if you kiss me. Mon beau. ”

Palm still on Luca's thigh, Lance leans in. Not like he can help it, anyway. He’s been pulled into Luca's orbit from the moment he heard his name all those years ago, and he’s spent the rest of it leaning in like this, one way or another. And if he’s not the one doing the leaning, it’s Luca chasing it and trying to pull it back, and on and on and on they go like this, always searching for the other’s closeness. 

So, anyway. Wow. First married kiss. 

Tastes like all the others and sparks a very specific hurt down in Lance's stomach just like always, but it’s different all the same.

Don’t get him wrong.

They’ve kissed plenty, and fucked just as much. There’s probably not an inch of the Italian's body that Lance hasn't spent hours worshipping.

But hey, first married kiss. That shit somehow does feel different, anyway.

After a moment of lips on lips, Lance's fingers dig further into Luca's thigh and he deepens the kiss; placing his mouth just so, running his tongue slowly along Luca's bottom lip and then in. 

Luca sighs into it and that’s another full body shiver for Lance. Because yeah, no matter how many times they’ve done this, it takes a touch. It takes a well-placed hand, or their bodies resting against each other, and Lance's there. Lance's ready to go. 

When their tongues finally meet and slide, Lance reciprocates Luca's sigh with a gentle moan. 

“Mhm,” Luca hums in approval and catches Lance's lip between his teeth. And Luxa is so good at this — just exceptional at finding the perfect balance between pleasure and pain, teeth sharp like a jackal, a hint of danger, then retreat before he draws blood. It drives Lance crazy every single fucking time.

Almost on its own, his hand slowly snakes up Luca's thigh until it reaches the warm spot by his crotch. He squeezes and Luca squirms, moves into Lance like he’s a tidal wave. 

“Yeah?” Lance whispers, briefly breaking the kiss.

“Oh, yeah.” Luca's fingers curl behind Lance's neck and roughly bring him back in. His tongue goes into Lance's mouth in one smooth and languid motion and God, if they weren’t sitting. Lance's knees would fucking buckle. 

And then, well, fuck — Luca's right hand, the wedding band now warm from the friction, moves. From the nape of Lance's neck, it finds its way towards the front until it covers Lance's throat, and rests there. Doesn’t squeeze, doesn’t put any pressure. But when Luca breaks the kiss on purpose and Lance chases it, that hand stays there still, and Lance feels it now when he gulps. The wave of pleasure richochets down his body and makes his cock twitch. 

“Luca,” he says pleadingly and the hand disappears; runs down his chest instead.

“Yes, piccolo?” Luca asks innocently. 

Lance gulps again. He realizes that his entire body is tense like a bowstring and it’s throbbing with it, begging to be snapped.

“Undress for me, please,” Luca asks.

Luca stands up and starts discarding his clothes item by item. In the end, all he’s left with is his own silver ring, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel like he was dressed enough. The band is, like, somehow the only thing he needs. 

When he sits back down, the linen of their bedding brushing against his skin ever so slightly and making him even hotter and hornier, Luca takes his turn. 

It’s then, as Lance's eyes rake down his freshly naked body, lingering around his stomach, that it truly sets in that this is his, Luca is his forever.

Lance doesn’t need to be told anything now. He leans back and spreads his legs. It’s a desperate invitation and he throws his head back when Luca takes it and his body slides between Lance's thighs. Presses down. Cock against cock, Lance bites back a whimper. 

Luca's mouth is everywhere. 

He leaves a trail of kisses, each one saying mine , starting on Lance's jaw and travelling down. He focuses on his left ribs for a moment, kissing each letter of his tattoo. המזל מעדיף את האמיצים. If it's true, if fortune truly favours the bold then Lance was convinced he had to have been a war hero in his past life because he wasn't getting any richer than this. He then sucks on his hip, leaving a glistening red flower in bloom, and then without warning, he takes Lance in his mouth. 

Just the tip, as if to make Lance see double.

“Fuck,” Lance breathes and his hand is in his own hair, tugging. When Luca's tongue runs the length of the shaft up and down, it’s enough to send Lance writhing. “ Fuck, Luca.”

Luca… leaves. He abandons the Canadians throbbing cock and goes back up, widening the garden with more lovebites on his way. Circling Lance's nipple with his tongue and pinching the other with his now-experienced fingers. With a start, Luca realizes that Lance knows his body inside and out. He knows exactly what to do and which places to tease to drive Lance mad. 

Actually, he knows what will get him a moan, and what will get him a nice onslought of begging, and what will get an orgasm out of Lance, and what will hurt and what will send him into pleasure like he’d never experienced before. Lance's just another book in Luca's library and he can read him any time he pleases. He can do it with his fingers, with his perfect dick, fuck , sometimes just with a well-aimed look. 

Because damn if Lance's not the only one who can say a million things with his eyes. 

“Please ,” Lance huffs out when he can’t take the teasing anymore. He knows, anyway, that this is what Luca's been waiting for. Waiting for Lance to be polite, to use his manners and ask nicely.

Luca's mouth is wet and swollen from kissing and biting, and when he smiles he looks pretty like the devil. 

Maybe to prove a point, or maybe because Lance can read him just as well, Luxa does as Luca said he would.

In one swift motion, no whiff of awkward, he turns them around and positions Lance like he’s just a lightweight until he’s straddling Luca's hips. 

Oh , Lance thinks. Okay. 

Lance slicks his palm with his saliva and closes it around Luca's cock. He pumps it experimentally, mere inches from his own, and he has to lean forward on his free hand when he imagines that that dick’s going to slide into him any moment now and fill him up so good — so good at this angle that he just might scream.

“You do things to me, amour,” he whispers and Luca moans, hips bucking. “Drive me crazy.”

“Have I said,” Luca breathes out in between Lance's pumps, “that you look beautiful?”

Oh, you bastard, you know exactly what to say, don’t you, but - “Just wait until I have you inside me,” he says without remorse, without shame, “I always look my best on your cock, mon beau.”

Luca throws his head back into the pillow and swallows dry. No argument there from his side. 

“Can I?”

“Five minutes ago was too late, Lance,” Luca tells him. “Yes.”

Slowly, carefully, Lance lowers himself onto Luca's slick cock. He gasps as he does every time but it’s a sigh of relief, too. 

Luca's fingers dig into Lance's hips. “So perfect for me, Lancino.”

Lance's breathing never evens as he sits down fully, both palms splayed over Luca's chest. “You for me,” he insists with his eyes closed.

They kiss again, but it’s awkward and sloppy because Luca is dying to move and Lance is taking his sweet fucking time. But then, oh God, it’s worth it, because when he finally rolls his hips, the moan that escapes Luca is heavenly. It is genuinely the best sound Lance has ever heard. 

“Do that again,” Luca pleads and somehow, his fingers dig even deeper — enough to leave bruises. 

Lance doesn’t say anything to that — just does as he’s told, because he’s good at that, but only when it’s Luca doing the asking. Except this time he sits up and then he rolls back and forward again, and again, and again, and again. With every movement, the tip of Luca's cock hits his belly and fuck , if he could — He starts moving faster. 

Their moans create their own orchestra, layered over each other like some sort of weird operatic piece of genius, and Lance loses himself in it.

Luca feels perfect inside of him, somehow always better than he imagines it will be, even though he’s been fucked by him time and time again; fucked tenderly and fucked roughly and fucked over and over again until he was laying in his own come, and, yeah. You get the fucking gist. This is not his first rodeo, but it might as well be.

“Come here,” Luca commands now and Lance goes, he'd go anywhere for Luca. “Touch yourself for me.”

Lance stills on his knees, closing his eyes and wrapping his fingers around his cock. Luca holds him, yeah, there will definitely be bruises on Lance's hips, no doubt about it, and as he has Lance suspended, he starts thrusting. He drives into Lance and shit, Lance's muscles are already starting to spasm and protest. 

“Luca,” he says to his husband. It’s a curse, a plea, a question. 

“Yes,” Lance responds softly, lips littering the Canadians skin with kisses, never letting them get too far. Just being inside Lance wasn't enough. “You can come,” he confirms, “for me.”

“Fuck, yes , Luca,” Lance cries and spurts all over Luca's stomach, body clenching; dizzy, spent. He knows Luca is watching and he gives him a show as much as he can, jerking himself through it and letting himself be fucked through it — skin sweaty, small tattoos stretching over his muscles, the whole circus. But when he’s done, his body furls down on top of Luca's.

“Hold on, I’m - hold on, please -”

If Luca wasn’t holding him, Lance wouldn't be able to. But Luca does — his arms wrap around Lance's middle like vines and he pulls him close, fucking him still; erratic, fast, so good .

Lance is biting into Luca's shoulder when Luca grunts, low and deep, and comes. He’s buried so deep inside Lance it’s almost impossible and yet Lance is proud , and happy, and if Luca turned him around and decided to go again without ever pulling out, he would fucking take it.

Take it like a champ. Like the good boy he is for Luca.

But Luca doesn’t do that — instead, they hold each other and they both shiver in the aftermath. Calm settles over the dark room, and the moon seems to have gone behind a cloud. There’s nothing but their rapid breathing, and even that is slowly calming down. 

Eventually, Luca pulls out — drawing a sharp inhale out of Lance who’s still sensitive. They settle back, though, legs entwined, holding on.

“Good?” Luca asks eventually. 

Lance nuzzles Luca's neck with the tip of his nose. “Mhm,” he laughs. “Really good.”

“So this is married life, huh?”

“It’s not that different from yesterday,” Lance replies, fingers rubbing circles into Luca's skin. He’s not even pretending to not be chuffed about it.

Lucq only gives a small laugh in return. 

Lance quiets. He wonders, secretly, if Luca's thinking of his previous engagement. There’s stil a part of him — and some days, he feels real guilty about it — that fears comparison. Even now, after what they just did, Lance finds himself thinking about whether it feels in any way the same as it had with Marta. His brain says no, but his heart pumps just a bit faster for it, anyway.

“I can hear you thinking,” Luca murmurs. “Care to share?”

Lance bites his lip. He’s been better about this, he knows, but… Fuck.

“I guess I just always thought my wedding night would be… different. In a bad way,” he adds quickly. “Like it would be a drunk night kinda thing and in the morning, they’d just look at me like… like they didn’t really mean it.”

Lance sighs. “When I proposed to Marta — okay if I mention my ex fianceè? Now that you're my husband.” Lance nods against Luca's shoulder. “Okay. Well. When I was engaged to Marta, it felt like I was a balloon. And somebody tied me to a chair. It was a lovely chair! But it’s no life when you’re tied to a chair, is it?”

“Suppose not. Maybe if you were tied to a bird, or a boat.”

“Right,” Luca chuckles, “but this doesn’t feel that way, Lancino. I love this. I love us . Listen.” Luca's forefinger nudges Lance's chin up until they’re looking at each other. “I am never, ever going to look at you like that.”

“Good. Cause neither am I.” Another beat in Lance's chest, but steadier, calmer. “So come the first light of morning and you see me here with a wedding ring and all, what will you think?”

There’s a glint in Luca's eyes that’s almost mischievous. “That we should go to sleep,” he says easily.

“Oh? I’m about ready to take a nap now , mate. That was a workout.”

“Nope.” Luca sits up on the bed and tugs at Lance's arm. “Let’s go skinny dipping. And jump over fires. Aaaand have sex again. And let’s do something stupid. It’s our wedding night. ”

Well, okay, it doesn’t take a lot to get Lance hyped for doing something stupid. “I could have Marco's weird friends pierce my nipples or something! Or we could get matching tattoos.”

“Yes,” Luca agrees, huffing out another laugh. He presses a sloppy, smacky kiss on Lance's mouth. “But whatever stupid thing we do, Lance. Come the first light of morning? I’m just going to think that this is it. And we’re just going to be us.”

Yeah. 

Lance never thought he would have this. 

But he does, and will, for the rest of their lives, until death do them apart or whatever the fuck else. 

[scrollonso]

More — Strollini

The bedroom was dim and quiet when Luca woke, the only light on was the bedside table lamp that bathed the room in a soft, orangeish-golden glow. His head was pillowed in Lance's lap and his fingers were petting over his hair in a comforting, rhythmic motion, his hand blessedly cool when he smoothed it over his forehead. It would have been a nice way to wake up, Luca considered, if only he hadn’t felt so horrifically sick.

“It’s still snowing,” Lance whispered, instinctually knowing that his normal speaking voice would be too much for Luca's current state. 

“Mmm,” Luca hummed in brief agreement. The window curtains were partly opened so Lance could look out the dark window; the street lamps outside illuminated the fat snowflakes drifting through the air and collecting on the window sill in a white, fluffy pile. 

Luca weakly pushed himself up from his boyfriend’s lap and onto his elbow. Lance's hand gently moved down his head to rub little circles over his shoulder blade, lips ghosting over his temple.

“How are you feeling, mon amor?” 

He groaned in response as a wave of nausea rolled through him from simply sitting up. Breathing in and out, Luca tried to push down the sick feeling, but very quickly realised that it was a battle he wouldn’t win. The too-heavy blankets twisted around his legs as he attempted to hurry toward their bathroom, only for an arm around his shoulders to stop him. 

“Right here, amor,” Lance whispered, easily halting his efforts and reaching for the basin he’d placed there earlier that morning. “It’s alright.” 

Luca didn’t know how he possibly had anything else in his stomach at this point as he leaned over the basin and threw up once more. After heaving up little but water and bile, he spent several long minutes dry-heaving. Each round of heaving drove the dull headache that’d been plaguing him for the past three days to a searing pain straight through his skull, bringing tears to his eyes. 

Terrible chills racked sharply down his spine as Luca weakly spit into the basin, lowering himself back onto the bed. A pair of painful sneezes ripped their way out of him, jarring his head even more. Squeezing his eyes shut, he felt the hot tears leak down the side of his face and drip onto the pillow.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Lance soothed, placing the basin back on the floor beside their bed and sliding down to his knees so he was at Luca's eye level. He reached out a hand and cupped Luca's flushed cheek, brushing his fingers delicately along his boyfriend’s jawline. 

“I feel awful,” he rasped.

The combination of tears and his sore throat rendered his voice nearly inaudible, but Lance heard and planted a kiss on his blazing forehead, simply whispering, “I know.” 

Gathering the blankets closer, Luca took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Crying wasn’t going to make him feel better, he lectured himself. Four days ago, Lance dragged him to the doctor right away when he entered his office and found him near-faint at his desk. The IMF doctor had quickly diagnosed the Italian with the same flu that was affecting half of their friends — and that was partly Luca's own fault anyway since he was normally excellent about getting his flu shot every year. Still, he was so busy with work and training that he forgot. The doctor left him with strict orders to rest, take ibuprofen for the fever and body aches, and take the prescribed cough medicine as directed with the assurance he’d be back on his feet within a week. He was being silly, Luca told himself, to get so upset about a stuffed-up nose, a slight fever, and a little bit of nausea. 

But he was just so tired and sick. 

He swallowed down the sob that was crawling up his throat, squeezing his eyes shut against the pounding in his temples. 

“It’s all right, baby,” Lance soothed, “I’m right here, you’re going to be okay.” 

Luca blinked his eyes open to look at him. Dark circles were beginning to form underneath his eyes, but his expression was soft and gentle. Guilt gnawed at his insides, knowing he was the reason why his poor boyfriend looked so exhausted. He was already stressed with his own job, and Luca hated to add to his list of worries. 

A choked sob escaped his lips as he apologised in a strangled voice, “I’m sorry.” 

Lance's thumb gently brushed a tear off his cheek. “Why are you sorry?” 

“I’m keeping you up,” Luca croaked, hating how small his voice sounded. 

A smile tugged at Lance's lips and he shook his head. “How many times have you stayed up with me when I was sick? Or when any of us are injured?” 

But that was different, Luca wanted to argue. He was supposed to be the strong one; whether that be nurturing Lance back to help when he injured himself last year or helping out whenever one of his friends needed someone, ensuring that their little family was safe and protected. That was his job, and he adored doing it.

All Luca managed to convey of this was, “I’m not supposed to get sick.”

Lance's lips curled in a barely contained smirk as he let out a breathy laugh. 

Luca felt his own lips twitch into a smile despite his efforts not to. “Don’t laugh at me.” 

The bruntette's smile broadened. “I’m sorry.” 

“No, you’re not,” he sniffled, sounding like a petulant child. 

Lance winked and crawled under the blankets, pulling Luca into his arms. “You take such good care of everyone, mon cœur. Now it’s my turn to look after you and I’m very happy to do it.” 

A lump formed in Luca's throat, but he swallowed it down. “Grazie,” he whispered. "Grazie mille, Caro"

Lance tapped his nose fondly in reply, which made him laugh and then promptly triggered a coughing fit. 

“Easy, amor,” he remarked, rubbing his back until the fit passed. “No more laughing until you’re better.” 

Once the coughing settled, Luca snuggled against his boyfriend and let him wrap him into his capable arms, his head pillowed on Lance's chest. Maybe he was just imagining it, but his body seemed to ache less and his nose less stuffy as their limbs intertwined underneath the blankets. 

After a few quiet minutes, Lance asked, “Do you think you could manage another dose of meds?” 

Luca's stomach churned at the thought of the disgusting, cherry-flavoured cough syrup. He shook his head against Lance's chest once, firmly. 

“Could you at least try some water?” Lance asked again, a hint of a pleading tone bleeding into his voice. "Or I'll go get you a sprite."

Luca shook his head again, “Not yet.”

Sighing, Lance hugged him closer, if that was even possible. “You’re starting to worry me, chéri.” 

“I’m alright,” he croaked, pressing his lips to Lance's collarbone. He felt like a miserable, sure, and like a soggy, pathetic mess, but he didn’t think he was in any serious danger. 

Lance pressed his nose into Luca's hair, kissing the top of his head. “Get some sleep,” he whispered the instruction. 

Luca didn’t need to be told twice, snuggling closer to him with his head pillowed on Lance's chest. Combined with the feeling of his heartbeat under his ear and his grounding embrace, he drifted off in only a minute.

When Luca woke again, this time to early-morning daylight than snow, his nose was less stuffed up and his stomach felt blessedly settled, but he was sweating profusely and the sheets and pillows felt amp. Lance had fallen asleep beside him, arms still wrapped tightly around him and their limbs entangled. Pushing himself weakly against the mattress, Luca rolled on top of him and Lance grunted awake at the moment.

“What are you doing?” the blonde agent asked, his voice still raspy with sleep. 

“My side’s all sweaty,” Luca muttered, hooking his arm around his neck so he could roll Lance over with him. 

“So you’re leaving me with the sweaty side?” Lance asked, sounding more awake and with amusement now replacing the sleepiness. 

“Mhmmm,” Luca hummed.

Lance chuckled and even though he wasn’t quite awake yet, he still thought that the sound was the most beautiful one in the entire world.

“I think your fever broke,” he remarked, kissing his forehead. The thermometer was right on the nightstand, where it’d been the past couple of days, and yet, Luca preferred his way. 

“That’s good,” Luca sighed in acknowledgement, billowing his head on Lance's chest and hugging his boyfriend closer to him. The other man just let himself be used as a pillow, chuckling again and trailing his fingers down Luca's back. 

“Are you feeling better?” Lance asked.

Luca nodded against his chest. 

“Do you want anything?” he asked again. 

“No.”

“You want to go back to sleep?” 

“Mhm,” Luca hummed again in response. 

“All right, go back to sleep,” Lance whispered, his voice tender and affectionate. 

“Ti amo,” Luca muttered, his eyes closing on their own volition before he forced them open. 

Lance's hand stroked over his hair, which was damp from sweat. “Je t'aime aussi, Luca. More than you could ever know.” 

Luca wanted to respond, to tell him that he knew, because he loved him just as much, maybe even more. But his eyelids felt so heavy and talking seemed like just an awful lot of effort. Luca would tell him after he rested for a few moments, he promised himself.

He was snoring less than a minute later.