OOHHH GOD
FINALLY, I PUBLISHED A FIC FOR THIS FANDOM.
I mean, it's not like I already don't have 5 WIPs for it but, this one's easier to write ;;;
So! Call me by your name was one of the most influential movies I've ever watched, so I decided to grace my favorite game with an AU c:
The backstory concerning Connor and Hank will be revealed throughout the course of the story, and not everything is going to match up to the Movie. E.g, Ellio has a rather big family and a bigger group of friends in Italy. Connor doesn't. It's only Hank, Connor, and Sumo in this household. The fic also takes place in Ireland, solely due to Connor's name having Irish origins.
Chapters aren't really long for now, because a)the beginning is somewhat null. b)*i'm not good at writing LONG FICS*, but i'm surely going to try and offer longer chapters each update.
Anyway, this is my first fic for DBH and somewhat the second-most serious fic, and I apologize if the writing, sucks. I'm not good at it but I'm trying to learn !
I hope you come to enjoy this ride, I'm surely excited for it. :D
Thanks for reading!

Cobh, Eastern Ireland

"And does he even clean his place anymore?"

Connor asks, head tilting as he looks questionably at the blonde girl in front of him. Chloe smiles, as brightly as ever, fingers tracing circular patterns on his back. The spring breeze blows in through the open window. "Elijah's a busy man. Least I can do for him is to take care of his everyday tasks to return his favors."

"Or, logically speaking, you could come stay with us." Connor suggest, a tint of annoyance gracing his monotone voice.

"Or, I can wait until we get enough money and move together with Hank to Detroit, like you wanted. Like I wanted."

He turns, brown eyes locking onto bright blue ones. She offers another smile, leans in, pressing her lips against his cheek and moving in to leave a kiss on his lips before the sound of a car driving by breaks the tranquility of their time. Curiosity overpowering his senses, he walks towards the window, peeking outside to see a rather fancy car drive up to their house and coming to a stop as a rather tanned man steps out of it, holding too many baggages for his own good.

Chloe runs up besides him, hand on his shoulder as she bends down, observing the stranger by the house.

"Who's that guy?"

"If I had known, I wouldn't be staring at him, Chlo'."

"...Right."

To his surprise, the raspy voice of his caretaker, Hank, echoes as he steps out, somewhat a scowl covering his face. "Markus, right? Manfred sent ya here?"

Markus, so that was his name.

'Markus' offers a cheerful expression, hand stretching to shake Hank's hand, however, he quickly pulls it away, trying to get a hold of his baggages. Hank moves forward, fetching himself one of Markus' countless suitcases, groaning as he looks up, and Connor knows Hank's searching for him.

Before Hank can spot him, he leans away from the window, hurrying downstairs as Chloe settles back on the bed.

"Connor? Con—Oh here you are." The older man says, smiling as soon as his eyes fall upon Connor. Offering a polite nod at Markus, he decides to introduce himself.

"My name is Connor."

"Markus, pleased to meet you, Connor." Markus says, voice tainted with politeness and respect. Hank gestures to Markus' luggages.

"Could you help Markus here up to your room? My back can't handle anymore carrying, kid. And you," He turns back at Markus as Connor rushes to pick up a few of his bags, "You must be exhausted, you can rest up at Connor's room until we fetch something for dinner, yeah? Then Connor can take you to… wherever it was that you needed to go."

"Of course, thank you for having me, Mr. Anderson."

"Whatever, mi caza es tu caza, or something." Hank says, hands waving at Markus in a dismissive manner.

"It's, mi casa es tu casa, Hank." Connor remarks with a hint of a grin.

"Oh shut your mouth." Hank groans as he walks back inside, presumably towards the living room where Sumo resides.

Without glancing at Markus, he starts making his way back inside, expecting Markus to follow him.

And Markus does not disappoint him, as he follows him upstairs to the room. Upon entering, Chloe shots up to her feet, looking over curiously at Markus who enters shortly after Connor.

An apologetic smile directed at Chloe, Connor sends the message across. Chloe hesitantly complies. Walking up to him, she gives him a kiss and turns to greet Markus briefly before sliding out of the room as quickly as she can.

The room is as organized as ever, fortunately. Clothes folded neatly in the closet, and a few books about law, history and mathematics placed in order on a shelf. Other than that, there's not too much to see in his room other than a flattened cushion for whenever Sumo rushes in, and of course, a bed.

"This is your room from now on." He starts, slightly uncomfortable with his room being taken by Markus. "I'll be next door, so we do have our separate rooms. However, we'd have to share the bathroom."

With a nod and the same polite smile as downstairs, Markus places down his baggages next to the bed, dropping on it. "Thank you—is it alright if I rest for the while?"

"You must be exhausted. I believe it's completely alright for you to rest. I'll wake you by dinnertime, if you're not awake by then."

"That's appreciated, Connor."

Intending to no longer stay in his room with a strange, he quickly walks out to step into… a child's room.

The only other bedroom in the house.

Hands reaching to his pockets and bringing out a coin, he nervously fidgets with it, rolling it around his knuckles as he takes in the appearance of the room.

He hadn't been in this room for three years.

The wallpaper's the same cheery blue color with white and yellow dinosaurs drawn on it, the rug has the pattern of a green UFO. The bed lacks a cover, neglected for a little bit over two years. The bookshelf has way too many children's books, and the couple drawings pinned onto the walls display a happy family of three. Then, two drawings of a family of four.

An old man, a young child, and a dog.

An old man, a young child, a dog, and an older child, standing at a distance, not smiling like the other figures.

An old man, a young child, a dog, and an older child, standing next to the dog with a smile on its face.

The next template didn't exist, but Connor knew if someone were to draw it, there's be an old man, an old dog, and a young man, with a burning car behind them.

Hands shaking, he settles himself on the bed, ignoring the sounds it makes as he lies down on it, closing his eyes.


The sudden sound of Hank shouting from downstairs awakes him, sitting up alert as he struggles to calm his breathing. Standing up, he walks up to the door connecting the room with his bedroom, unlocks it and steps out. To his surprise, Markus is already awake, sitting on his chair with a canvas in front of him.

He doesn't seem to hear Connor coming in, too distracted by the flow of his brushes.

Not intending to disturb, Connor walks up behind Markus to take a look at the drawing and—

Holy shit.

There's a man on the canvas, looking eerily similar to Markus. Chains around his arms and cuffs bounding his wrists together, the man in the drawing is calling out for something, someone, most certainly in need of aid, or guidance.

It's beautiful.

It's really, really beautiful.

Now he knows why Markus had so many goddamn baggages with him- three of them lie on the ground, opened, featuring various sets of brushes, and palettes. Finally deciding to speak, he attempts to clear his throa—.

"CONNOR?"

Hank's voice startles them both, keeping Connor from speaking with Markus and commenting on his art, and also causing Markus to irrationally let his brush move across the canvas, an ugly navy blue line breaking the drawing like a border. Markus turns around, muttering a curse as he drops his brush and gives out a yell as he notices Connor standing behind him, looking shocked himself.

"Wh—When, for how long have you been standing here? Jesus christ—"

"I apologize, I came here to call you down for dinner—" He quickly says, not wanting Markus to think he'd been spying on him for some time, "I was about to do so when Hank called us again. I was startled, I apologize."

Letting out a sigh, Markus leans down to pick up the dripping brush. "I understand, I'm sorry for not hearing Hank's call the first time… and for this mess, shit." He says, eyes locked on the puddle of blue paint on the floor.

"It's alright, I'll get it cleaned up in the morning when it has dried."

Connor turns, walking towards the door. "Would you like to join us for Dinner?"

Markus presses a hand to his collar, averting his gaze. "Is it alright if I spend tonight up here? I'd like to get done with this piece by tonight, and perhaps sleep earlier than I usually do. I'm still exhausted." In response, Connor only raises an eyebrow. "I thought you had rested."

Markus laughs nervously. "Unbelievable, I know."

"It's alright." He twists the handle, opening the door.

"I think the drawing's quite beautiful. It conveys the message of a prisoner, in my opinion." He says, neither turning nor waiting for an answer as he shuts the door behind him, walking downstairs to where Hank sits, grumpily munching on his food. He's quick to snark at him as Connor steps by the table.

"Took ya long enough, huh, asshat?"

"I apologize, Hank. I was trying to bring our esteemed guest to the dinner table. However," He says as he sits down, offering a smile that's specifically reserved for Hank. "I believe we have yet to be suitable for his company."

"Yeah, yeah, shut the fuck up, Connor."

Letting out a quiet chuckle, he takes a bite out of his food.

"What is he doing here?"

Hank looks up.

"Carl, an old friend sent him here for… what, being motivated? Ireland landscapes and all that, said it'd be nice of us if we took care of him for a week or two so that he can draw some stuff… or take pictures, I can't really remember right now."

To paint, it'd make sense if Markus was here solely just to draw. With his talent, Connor imagines he'd have an atelier or at least, would be a well-known artist that Hank and Connor never got to know.

"He is an artist."

"No shit, sherlock."

"No, Hank, as in," He pauses, phrasing his question. "Is he… famous? A growing artist or…?"

Hank shrugs at that, popping open a bottle of beer. "I don' know, but Carl is fucking famous, so I'd imagine Markus would be too, at least in a year or two." Drinking a few gulps from the bottle and enduring Connor's hurtful glares, he goes back to his dinner. "Be good to him, yeah? He'll be gone before you know it. I know you don't like strangers."

Connor shakes his head

"I'm an adult, Hank. I can cope."

Hank smiles, putting away the plate and standing up.

"I know, son."

Taking a few bottles of the infamous beer, Hank moves towards his room. "G'night, Con."

His voice is raspy, the stench of alcohol already clinging onto the atmosphere of their house. Connor knows what'll happen tonight, like most nights at their house for the past three years. He's too tired to argue, so he just mumbles a response back.

After clearing the kitchen, he turns to go upstairs, to his— not-his room and perhaps get some sleep before a huge ball of fur blocks his way, saliva dripping from its tongue.

Connor smiles.

"Wanna sleep upstairs with me, tonight, Sumo?"

Sumo only leans in to lick Connor's hands as he reaches out to pat Sumo with them. Laughing, he starts shooing Sumo upstairs, while trying to remain quiet if Markus was to be asleep. Entering the room with no more trouble other than the trail of drool in the staircase, Connor drops himself on the bed, careless about the uncomfortable sound as Sumo climbs onto the bed next to him.

And with hands wrapped around the warm, soft animal, Connor falls asleep.