(Later, in the room)
I didn't bring my pajamas of course, the night stop wasn't planned. I have to sleep in my underwear and a t-shirt.
Me too, darling: we'll get over it. Besides, the sheets are very clean.
It's not that, it's just that I feel a little embarrassed in my baggy T-shirt and my underwear: I'm wearing my usual cotton boxers with the blue ducks, I know they look pathetic.
They look great on you, chick: they are so cute. And then you are fine with anything.
I wear very modest underwear, I don't care about these things. You on the other hand have very elegant underwear, a matching t-shirt and shorts, black with white and silver piping.
Yeah, I like to treat myself well. It's Calvin Klein.
The one I did the underwear shoot for?
That.
You have a practically perfect physique, lean and muscular: you don't have an ounce of belly.
Are you trying to tell me in a nice way that I'm still pretty fit for my age?
No, I'm saying you're fit overall, not "for your age."
I try not to let go, my boy.
It's not warm in here at all: I think I'll keep my socks on. Loose underwear and wool socks, I must be really ridiculous.
Anything but ridiculous, believe me. Now let's get under the covers and have a good night's sleep.
All right, Gianni. Good night.

(Silence)
Gianni…
Yes?
This summer duvet is a little too light, don't you think?
Yes, it's a bit chilly.
I would say cold: yes, it's May, but we are in the high mountains and the heating should be kept on at night too. On top of that, we don't have pajamas. I thought...
Did you think?
Here, I was thinking we could push the loungers together and keep each other warm a little.
Are you that cold, little sparrow?
Yes. And then I feel alone.
Alone? What do you say: if we are here together!
Just physically. You treat me like a stranger.
I don't treat you like a stranger at all: I treat you like a baby marmot who needs sleep so he can wake up rested tomorrow morning.
Yes, but baby marmots have fur: we should have brought a couple of fur coats to the room, instead of leaving them all in the car.
I think you're exaggerating a bit.
I don't know what to tell you: despite the socks, my feet are freezing.
Maybe you got too cold when you were changing your furs bare-chested at three thousand meters. My fault.
But no, it's not your fault: I'm just very sensitive to the cold.
You don't have a little fever, do you?
No, no fever: apart from the cold I'm fine. Just a little stomachache because of all that alcohol. I'm stupid, I know I shouldn't drink so much: in the past I've had some pretty serious liver problems.
Hepatitis from injection, little sparrow?
Gianni…
I thought so. You have to be careful, darling, you are easy prey to all the seductions, it is easy to push you to do the wrong things. Why did you never tell me about it? I would have stopped you from drinking spirits. Anyway, if you have a stomachache, you really need to stay warm. Listen, the sunbeds are quite wide, almost a queen size: there is no need to push them together, there is room for two. Come on, come here.
Can I really?
Of course you can.

(He slips into Gianni's bed)
I feel much better now. Can I stay like this or does it bother you?
Of course you can, angel.

(A few minutes of silence)
Gianni, I have to ask you something.
What?
I don't know if what you told me was true. You said you were in love with me, but then you forgot about it within a few hours. I mean, I didn't understand anything.
I said some nonsense, little puppy.
What nonsense? That you loved me?
No, that I forgot. Obviously you can't fall out of love in a matter of hours.
But then…
Yes of course darling, I'm still in love with you.
Gianni, I have the impression that you really love me, and I hope I'm not wrong.
You're not wrong, actually: I have feelings for you that are quite rare in their kind. Not the usual crush, I mean.
Really?
Really.
So I want you to know something: I feel them for you too.
This is very generous of you.
Why do you say generous? There is no need for generosity to love you: you are a special man, intelligent, attractive, charming, cultured, witty... Completely different from all the other people I have known. And then you have that surreal irony that makes you absolutely irresistible.
Irony is necessary for living, my angel: if you take things seriously it's over. It's all so terribly sad and mediocre, everything so gray... And you are a ray of light, I can't help but love you.
You always say beautiful things to me, Gianni. Thank you. You have no idea how much I need it.
That's what I think, honestly.

(A silence)

Gianni, if you want, I'm ready.
Ready for what?
Ready to do whatever you want. Now.
What do you think I want, little marmot?
I don't know… I thought… well, I thought you wanted to make love to me.
Of course I want it, my little one: I'm wanting it with all my being, and believe me, I have to exercise considerable self-control not to let go.
You don't have to exercise any self-control, Gianni: just let yourself go.
I cannot.
You can't? But why?
Far be it from me to be a moralist, that's not my style: that's not the point. I want to be absolutely honest with you: this is not the first time I've come here in the company of some male, and we actually had sex.
Here, you see? But then…
Be careful with my words, honey: I never use words at random. I said we had sex. I have no intention of having sex with you: it has nothing to do with how I feel about you.
Gianni, I don't understand: I've always thought the opposite, that is, that loving a person is the ideal condition for having sex. In fact, I think it's the only one: sex without love is squalid.
Of course, chick, but it depends on the circumstances: in this case, if we have sex, we destroy everything and we will end up never seeing each other again. Is this what you want? Mind you, if you say yes, I'll do as you wish, because I would never want to see you again if you told me that you were okay with something like that, and then we might as well have a memorable fuck and leave it at that.
No Gianni, absolutely not. I don't know what to do with the memorable fuck, if we never see each other again.
Well then, my little face, we have to continue to be like this, just hugging each other.
But why? I really don't understand your reasoning. I really want it, I wouldn't feel forced at all.
Baby, I know that at your age you have strong sexual instincts, but believe me, it's not really the case that you vent them on me. Better alone in the bathroom, instead. I'll wait for you here.
What are you talking about, Gianni? You make me ashamed! I would never do something like that. I'm not a beast, huh, even if you keep comparing me to all the little animals you can think of!
I imagined so, because deep down you are as candid as an angel.
No, you're wrong: I've done some pretty dirty things in the past. And it's not the first time I've had a homosexual relationship: I've already had two.
I imagined this too. The conversation is timely, then we'll talk about it again.
Gianni, seriously, I don't understand why I can't do it with you: you're the only person I would do it with right now. I loved a woman very much, the one with whom I had my son, but I can't love her anymore, because she humiliated me.
It would be strange if it were the other way around: you can't love someone who humiliates you.
Exactly. I'm still fond of her, and to tell the truth I have sex with her every now and then. I like it physically, but every time I feel dirty.
It means you are healthy: healthy in soul, I mean. It is the soul that loves, not the body, and if the soul sees the body doing bad things, it feels bad.
Yes, that's exactly it. Instead you make me feel special and beautiful, I feel like I'm flying when I'm with you: so why is it wrong for us to have sex?
Listen to me, sparrow: I told you before that you have to use words appropriately. You too studied classical studies, so you know it. Things should always be called by their name: otherwise, as Orwell and Epicurus teach, the perception of reality is completely altered.
Yes I know.
So give things a name: what is the name of the thing you would like me to do to you now?
Here… definitely something non-violent, non-vulgar.
Try to give it a name, darling: what do you call that something non-violent and non-vulgar?
Gianni, I… sorry, I'm embarrassed.
And then you didn't tell me what you want, but what you don't want: basically you're telling me that you don't want me to abuse your adorable little ass, or am I wrong?
No, you're not wrong. It wouldn't really be in keeping with your character, even if...
Even if?
Well, I guess it wouldn't be the first time you've done this, since you used to come here with your little friends.
Of course: the animal in me has often taken over. But is that what you want?
No, Gianni: this would degrade your image in my eyes. It hurts me even to think of you doing these things with other boys.
Perfect. So tell me what else you would like me to do to you, or what you would like to do to me.
Gianni, damn it, you're crucifying me.
Crucifying why? Because I force you to call a spade a spade?
Yes I know, you're right. I'll try to answer: I would like you to make me something sweet.
Sweet. Yes, I understand. But let's give this something sweet a name.
Do I really have to?
Absolutely yes, otherwise you don't look things in the face.