Sören wasn't a morning person, especially not if he'd worked late the night before, but he was still willing to get up early on the morning of Saturday the nineteenth - or early for him, which was before eleven AM after a late night - and take the train three hours one way, from London to Devon. They were taking an overnight trip; Anthony had offered to come over and watch Tobias for them, which was a load off Nicholas and Sören's minds.
Not that Sören could even think much, let alone worry, as he continued to wake up while the train rolled out, his head resting on Nicholas's shoulder. Nicholas had made plans weeks in advance, and it was still a surprise to Sören what they were doing, though he now knew they were going someplace in Devon. Sören liked having a cozy, domestic life with Nicholas, his schedule was such that he didn't expect grand courtship gestures, but nonetheless he appreciated that Nicholas did in fact have a romantic streak and wanted to go on a little getaway. And though Sören liked rain and would have been glad to go rain or shine, he knew Nicholas had been fretting about the weather forecast and he was relieved for Nicholas's sake that the rain had finally let up and the morning was sunny and clear.
Just the train ride itself set a romantic mood. As Sören gradually began to feel more awake and alert, he found himself looking out the window. Some of the trees were beginning to turn, while others stayed green, and Sören liked the mixture of green with the occasional blaze of gold, red and orange, underneath the brilliant blue sky. Sören truly loved the changing seasons - in the dreams where he was in another body, he was living in a place that seemed always summer, except towards the end when he had exiled to someplace more arctic. The endless summer felt incredibly boring and bland - like a gilded prison. There was beauty in every season, and Sören especially liked the drama of spring and fall. It made him want to paint. The autumn-kissed English countryside passing by through the train window stirred that urge to paint even more. He didn't want to take away from his weekend with Nicholas, but soon. Soon, he would need to create something.
Nicholas rubbed Sören's shoulder. Sören turned his head and they nuzzled, Nicholas stroking Sören's cheek with a smile. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" Nicholas asked.
"Mhm." Sören smiled back and wriggled happily in his seat. "I never knew England was so pretty." He realized how bad that sounded, and he quickly added, "I'm not saying it's ugly or anything -"
Nicholas chuckled and patted him. "No, but you've spent most of your time in the greater London area, you haven't seen much of the country, have you?"
Sören shook his head. "I've been to Brighton a number of times, with Anthony, but that's about it." Just saying that aloud brought on that wistful ache.
"We shall have to remedy that. I'd like to take you to see other parts of England... and eventually, Scotland and Cornwall and Wales." Nicholas stroked Sören's hand. He took Sören's hand and kissed it, before pressing it to his heart, his eyes soft.
Sören pushed himself back to the present, not wanting to be sad, especially when Anthony was back in his life. "I'd like to see more of France, too. I went to Paris years ago, but... I'd like to see where your family comes from."
Nicholas was delighted by that. "My family is from northern France," Nicholas said. "Oise. We could arrange for a trip there... perhaps next year."
"Maybe I should learn French."
"Well, most people do speak English. But I think that learning other languages is useful. As you know, I speak French, Greek and Latin."
"Anthony still has you beat," Sören said. "He speaks at least five languages and he's learning more."
Nicholas's eyebrows went up, and Sören hoped Nicholas wasn't going to take it the wrong way - he wasn't trying to make some sort of comparison and make Nicholas feel inferior, he didn't feel that way at all - but then Nicholas said, "That's fascinating. I knew he was well-read, but I also respect that he's learnt other languages. Perhaps there is hope for the younger generation after all."
Sören laughed at that, delighted. "Hey now."
Nicholas poked the tip of Sören's nose. "Vous avez vous-même un esprit très vif, en tant que médecin. J'aime juste te taquiner. Si vous le donnez, vous devriez pouvoir le prendre, non?"
Sören growled and fought off the urge to kiss him. While it was 2015 and nobody else on the train seemed to care much about the obvious gestures of affection between two men, Sören still didn't want to cause a scene by tongue-kissing him in public... and he would get himself too worked up besides. As it was, just hearing Nicholas speak French made his cock stir in his jeans, never mind also kissing him.
Nicholas gave him a wicked little smile, eyes gleaming, as if he knew exactly the kind of effect speaking French had on Sören. He looked out the window to admire the landscape again, and then he turned back to Sören. "Un jour, j'aimerais vous emmener dans un champ à la campagne, apporter un panier-repas ... et vous embrasser et vous lécher partout pour le dessert. Je veux t'emmener là-bas dans l'herbe, et te faire crier mon nom, entendre ta voix sonner dans le ciel."
Sören's cock throbbed and he made a high-pitched noise of frustration, glaring at Nicholas teasing him like this. Nicholas's smile got bigger and he chuckled as he patted Sören, tousled Sören's curls.
"I don't know what you just said," Sören said, "but you're fucking evil, you know that."
Nicholas laughed harder. "Thank you."
At the train station in Devon, a car was waiting for them, and they were driven to a car rental. Once the car was leased, Nicholas and Sören got into the brown Vauxhall and Sören rolled the window down a little to enjoy the smoky autumn air, the gentle breeze in his curls. Then, a few minutes down the road, Sören cocked his head to one side. "You know, I didn't realize you drive."
Nicholas nodded. "I had a vehicle when I taught at Merton College. When I downsized and moved to central London, I saw no reason to own a vehicle anymore, I can walk or take transit to wherever I need to go."
"What kind of car did you have? Just out of curiosity."
"A Jaguar," Nicholas said. "Black."
That was definitely a nice car, but also elegant in an understated sort of way, not flashy like a Citroën, Sören's dream car if he ever tried to start driving in England, and he'd seen enough of London traffic to not be especially enthusiastic about the idea. It also seemed a little less flashy than Anthony's Audi, and once again Sören felt bad that Anthony's love of driving had been taken away from him by the accident.
In any case, Nicholas's choice of car in his driving days seemed to fit his personality - a man of refined taste, simple dark elegance. Sören liked that about him.
Their first stop was a supermarket in the area. Sören couldn't resist ribbing Nicholas a little as they got out of the Vauxhall and began walking across the parking lot together, hand in hand. "Oh wow, a supermarket! What a romantic surprise, Nick, you shouldn't have."
Nicholas gave Sören a look, and Sören stuck his tongue out, and Nicholas tweaked Sören's nose, giving an eyeroll and a chuckle.
If they were going to a supermarket, that meant they probably weren't going to spend the night in a hotel, but Nicholas also hadn't brought camping gear and didn't quite seem like the type to rough it anyway. Sören wondered about it as they walked through the store. Nicholas marched like he was on a mission, with a very clear idea of what he was getting - steak, mushrooms and bamboo skewers, potatoes, bacon and a pancake mix, and some drinks he knew Sören enjoyed, like ginger ale. When they checked out, Sören gave Nicholas a curious look, dying to know what they were doing, but Nicholas wasn't saying anything about it.
They got back in the car, driving deeper into the forest, a more secluded area. When Sören's curiosity reached a fever pitch and he began tugging on Nicholas's sleeve, Nicholas finally pointed and Sören saw it - a group of treehouses.
Their first act after parking was to check in, and the host was warm and friendly, making sure they had everything they needed. They were then brought out to their treehouse, which reminded Sören of cabins he'd seen in Iceland, the floors and walls of pitch pine. The open plan living area contained a king-sized bed and had light flooding in from the wall-to-wall windows and folding doors. The kitchen was fully equipped, there was comfortable-looking furniture in the living area and even some board games, and a woodstove that reminded Sören of their home.
The folding doors led out to a deck, and out on the deck Sören saw a hot tub. Sören let out a low whistle, a grin lighting up his face.
Nicholas began loading the fridge with the perishables from the grocery run, and then he walked over to his rolling suitcase, zipped it open, and pulled out a bottle of champagne, which he also added to the fridge. Sören threw his head back and laughed, tickled by that little touch.
"Oh, Nick." Sören did a twirl around the living area. "I love it. I love you."
"Just wait," Nicholas said. "The magic hasn't begun yet."
Sören raised an eyebrow.
Nicholas led Sören back out to the car, and they went for a little drive. Nicholas brought him to Okehampton Castle, and they made an afternoon of walking the castle ruins, in a beautiful woodland setting. Nicholas explained that the castle was almost a thousand years old, and Sören felt almost like he was transported into the past, barely able to speak as he took it all in, a reverent hush when he could make words at all. The land seemed to sing with a sort of energy, as if it was alive - something that felt mad to Sören, but he could deny the presence nonetheless. The memories this place holds.
It also seemed to Sören that Nicholas himself had the presence of a king. Sören thought of the dreams of his brother-lovers... Nicholas younger, with a flood of black hair, eyes as blue as the sky above. As Nicholas strode, surveying the castle ruins, Sören had a brief vision in his mind's eye of that brother-lover arriving at a castle, seeing the destruction, ready to fight for him, ready to start a revolution...
Sören threw his arms around Nicholas and kissed the tip of his nose. "I think they'd love it. I love it, so far."
"It gets better."
Sören laughed. "It's hard to top what we're doing right now."
"It would be nice to visit this place again, when we have more time. There's a lot more to do in the area - I could take you to Lydford Castle and Saxon Town. And Lydford Gorge." Nicholas sighed. "We could make an entire week of it, really."
Sören felt a twinge of guilt, knowing his schedule made it difficult to go on holiday for an entire week even when it seemed the rest of the world had time off. Nicholas, of course, taught at UCL five days a week, and it didn't look like he'd be retiring anytime soon, but he could still put in for vacation time more readily than Sören could.
Nicholas pulled Sören close, seeming to notice Sören's sadness. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad, sweetheart."
"It's OK, Daddy." Sören kissed his cheek and nuzzled him. "Someday."
"Indeed. In the meantime, though..." Nicholas took a deep breath and looked around. "I daresay this is a fine weekend so far."
"It's brilliant." Sören squeezed him. "Just this alone was worth coming out this way, never mind the treehouse. My god."
When they came back from seeing the castle ruins, they headed up to the treehouse, and Sören thought Nicholas was going to start making dinner right there in the kitchen, but to his surprise, Nicholas led him back down, and Sören followed him out to an area with grills, a firepit, and picnic tables. Sören clapped his hands and squeaked - Icelanders enjoyed barbecue any time of year and it had been something sorely lacking from his life since he'd moved to England. Sören watched Nicholas grill the steaks and the skewers of mushrooms and potatoes, and his stomach growled at the delicious smells. And his pulse quickened and stomach fluttered every time Nicholas turned to look at him, smiling. Sören was still very much in love with Nicholas, and that feeling of love was all the stronger for Nicholas going to all this trouble.
They ate outside in the picnic area, as the sun was setting in a blaze of orange and pink and red that softened to peach and lavender. That, too, was wonderfully romantic. Though Sören was ravenous from the delicious smell of the food, he ate slowly, savoring, and not just the food itself, but the peace and quiet of being out here in the forest, watching the fire in the sky... feeling the fire in his heart.
After they finished eating they just sat for awhile, cuddling, watching the sunset fade to twilight.
"This has been the perfect day," Sören said.
"Good, I'm glad." Nicholas kissed the tip of Sören's nose.
Sören grabbed Nicholas's face and claimed his mouth, kissing him hard. Both men groaned as their tongues met, swirling, a promise of more sensual pleasure to come. Sören began to rub Nicholas's chest, thumb teasing a nipple through the fabric of his shirt; Sören smiled into the kiss as Nicholas moaned. When they pulled apart, breathing harder, Sören's hand slid from Nicholas's chest down over his stomach and thigh, and Sören began rubbing his knee. "You know what would be the perfect end to the perfect day?" Sören started trailing little kisses along Nicholas's jaw, nose rubbing the beard, knowing Nicholas was sensitive. "You and me in that hot tub, and then I ride you."
"I'd like that," Nicholas husked, and he kissed Sören back. Sören's cock throbbed, and it was all Sören could do to not rip Nicholas's clothes off, push him into the grass, and ride him here and now. When Nicholas pulled back, he gave Sören a wicked, teasing little smile. "But not just yet."
Sören gave Nicholas a look.
Nicholas chuckled. "I have one more thing to show you."
"What, your cock?"
Nicholas laughed harder. He facepalmed and shook his head. "No, Mister One Track Mind."
"Excuse me, I have at least sixty-nine tracks."
Now Nicholas gave him a look, and Sören grinned. Nicholas reached around and playfully swatted Sören's ass - which just made Sören's cock throb again - and then Nicholas stood up from the picnic table and grabbed Sören's hands, bringing him to his feet. "Come. It's time for the pièce de résistance."
The pièce de résistance was the Dartmoor National Reserve. And after they were far enough away from the streetlights, Sören saw exactly why they had come.
During the daytime, the vast moor would be beautiful in a stark, haunting way. But at night, the sky in the secluded area was dark... dark enough to see the sea of stars above.
Sören was from Akureyri in the north of Iceland, and it was a short enough drive to get free of the small city's light pollution and see the stars, as well as to see the aurora in winter. But he hadn't seen a clear, light-pollution-free night sky since he'd moved to Reykjavik, and certainly not living in London.
And even with Sören's memories of having seen the Milky Way in the rural north of Iceland, it was still an amazing sight that never got old. Indeed, it had been long enough since Sören had last seen a clear dark sky that it was like seeing it for the first time. Sören's breath was taken away, tears burning his eyes.
There was always still a profound sense of awe looking at all the stars. It reminded him of how small Earth really was - Carl Sagan's "tiny blue dot". It reminded him of how humanity really needed to learn to band together as not to destroy themselves, their unique place in the cosmos lost forever. Once again Sören felt a bitterness towards religion, especially the sort of fundamentalism that had poisoned his aunt Katrín, a fundamentalism that was mercifully rare in Iceland. While, looking up at the stars and feeling that sense of awe and wonder and smallness, Sören could understand how some could connect it to the concept of a god or gods, Sören felt that all religion had done was divide people and make them hate for petty reasons. He was not as strong an atheist as his brother, if only because he didn't see the point of arguing with people about it, but he felt that humanity needed to outgrow religion and gods to save itself. Indeed, it seemed to Sören that if there were gods, lurking in the strangeness of the cosmos, they were evil, stirring strife - even the ancient polytheistic gods had supported wars and conquests.
A frisson went down Sören's spine. How do you think you died and ended up in this life? You tried to fight the gods then.
Sören gave a nervous little laugh - that thought was the most mad of all - then he clapped his hand over his mouth, feeling as if he'd done something wrong by making that sort of noise out here in this place.
"Are you all right?" Nicholas whispered.
"Yeah," Sören said, and reached for Nicholas's hand, squeezing. "I'm..." Sören put his head on Nicholas's shoulder. My religion is you. And Anthony. Sören couldn't deny it, even though it would take a year for Anthony to prove he could be trusted again. He felt like they were a part of him, the thought of losing either one unbearable. Sören looked back up at the stars, endless, infinite, burning bright. "This is fucking beautiful, Nick."
Nicholas put an arm around him. "I wanted to do something beautiful for you, Sören. You deserve to have beauty in your life... beautiful moments."
"You're beautiful." Sören cupped Nicholas's chin and turned Nicholas's face to his. In the starlight and shadow, Sören's fingers traced the wrinkles and the whiskers - some might think the signs of old age were ugly, but to Sören they gave Nicholas character, and he wanted Nicholas to feel the love in his touch. Sören's hand slid down to rest on Nicholas's heart. "You have a beautiful heart. I know you're cool and reserved with the world, but I know the truth of you, the way your heart burns like the starfire."
Nicholas put his hand on Sören's hand, and his other hand reached to touch Sören's face. "Those are beautiful words... and sound even lovelier in your accent, darling."
Sören grasped for levity before he could start bawling right there, loving Nicholas so fiercely it hurt. "Herpes. Enema. Cockroaches."
"You know..."
"I know." Sören laughed, then he wrapped his arms around Nicholas and kissed him hard, deep and hungry. The kiss brought on that giddy mixture of lust and joy, and Sören erupted into a gigglefit in the kiss, as Nicholas chuckled and swatted Sören's bottom. Then the laughter turned to tears, as if any emotion had broken the dam. Nicholas kissed Sören's tears, rocked him, pet him.
"It's so beautiful out here," Sören sobbed. That, too, hurt - not just the intense feelings of love for Nicholas, giving him this, but how amazing the sight was of all those stars. And how good it was to share this moment of wonder with the man he loved, the man he shared his life with.
They held each other tight, rocking together, and then they were kissing again, and again... and again. They pulled apart to catch their breath, look up at the stars, and have their breath taken away all over again, and kissed some more, laughing and crying, drunk on love, drunk on the glory of the world.
The magic wasn't over when they returned to the treehouse. There was a bath in addition to the hot tub, and Sören cleaned up in preparation for what they were going to do in awhile, before they got in the hot tub together. Nicholas poured out the champagne and they drank in the toasty bubbles underneath the stars - the sky not quite as impressive as it had been on the moor, but still starry and beautiful. Snuggling together drinking champagne in the hot tub was an even more perfect end to a perfect day, and Sören gave a happy sigh, curling his toes.
Soon they were kissing again, necking, caressing each other, their cocks hardening to life. They reached for each other's cocks under the bubbles, stroking slowly. Sören drank his champagne to the dregs and chased the last drops with licking inside the glass, demonstrating to Nicholas what his tongue could do, before their mouths met again.
They made their way from the hot tub on the deck, through the doors, to the bed, kissing feverishly, running their hands over each other, cock rubbing cock as they walked. They fell onto the bed together, laughing, and then Sören rolled Nicholas onto his back, nipping at Nicholas's throat with a hungry growl. Nicholas chuckled and slapped Sören's ass, making Sören's cock jolt.
"So impatient, my sweet," Nicholas husked.
"I want your cock in me now, dammit."
"I'm sure you do." Nicholas smirked. "But I'd like to spoil you a little more first."
"You can spoil me by putting that cock in me -"
Nicholas put a finger to Sören's lips and traced Sören's lips with his thumb. Then his thumb strayed to play with a pierced nipple, making Sören gasp, cock throbbing. "May I?" Nicholas asked.
"You may." Sören bit his lower lip, a shiver going through him, knowing how delicious more teasing would be.
Nicholas kissed him, and now Nicholas rolled Sören onto his back. Sören lay there arched, panting, moaning, as Nicholas kissed and licked him all over, from his neck and throat down from one shoulder to a nipple, across to the other nipple, up to the other shoulder, back down to the nipples, fingers playing over Sören's stomach and thighs. Then Nicholas's mouth was on Sören's stomach, as his hand wrapped around Sören's cock, stroking gently. Nicholas kissed, licked, and nibbled Sören's thighs, and then he just licked and licked at Sören's shaft, making Sören whimper, cry out, shuddering, clutching at him. Nicholas drew Sören's cock into his mouth inch by inch, and began to suck slowly, eyes locked with Sören's, murmuring his pleasure with his mouth full. Nicholas's left hand went back and forth between Sören's nipples, rubbing, pinching, tugging on the rings, and Nicholas's right hand cupped Sören's balls, rubbing gently.
"Daddy." Sören thrashed, and let out a high-pitched noise, completely lost in pleasure... wanting to come, but not wanting Nicholas to stop sucking at him, it was so good. And it was so hot to see the lust in Nicholas's eyes, to see his passion for sucking Sören, worshiping his cock.
Sören didn't last much longer, letting out a hoarse shout as he spent into Nicholas's mouth. Nicholas swallowed his cream down with an appreciative "mmmmm" and after a few licks at the remaining flow, he came up to kiss Sören. Tasting himself on Nicholas's mouth, and the sensuality of the kiss, made Sören's cock rise again. Nicholas laughed softly as his own hard cock rubbed up against Sören's.
"So insatiable," Nicholas said.
"You love it."
"I do." Nicholas kissed the tip of Sören's nose. "Now you can ride me, sweetheart."
Sören poured lube over Nicholas's cock, and hand, and stroked Nicholas's cock slowly as Nicholas's fingers readied him, one then two then three, slowly rubbing away at that magic spot. Soon Sören was fucking himself on Nicholas's fingers, whimpering, and Nicholas lay on his back, giving Sören a "well?" look.
Sören climbed on Nicholas, straddling him, and sank down. When they were fully joined, they both sighed with pleasure. Sören took Nicholas's hands and began to ride, slow and easy, and the slow rhythm on his prostate teased him right back to the edge. Sören started riding harder and faster, until he was bucking wildly, grabbing onto Nicholas's shoulders as Nicholas grabbed his hips, matching Sören's furious rhythm, pounding away.
"Yes, sweetheart," Nicholas rasped. "That's a good boy. That's a good boy..."
Nicholas knew how that affected Sören, who gave a whimper and then a growl, riding even harder, giving it all he had. The pleasure and tension built and built until it exploded, Sören's cock shooting over Nicholas's chest as Sören cried out, "Daddy!"
A few seconds later Nicholas shook with his own release and Sören groaned at the feeling of that hot flood inside him, loving that feeling of being claimed. "That's my boy," Nicholas said, and pulled Sören down into a deep, passionate kiss.
Sören snuggled into Nicholas's chest, feeling radiant bliss that made him feel like he was a sparkle, like one of the stars above. He smiled as Nicholas pet his curls, rubbed his back. Tender little kisses became longer, more lingering, and then the hunger overcame them both again, hard cocks rubbing together. Now Nicholas gently pushed Sören onto his back, and Sören spread to him, guiding Nicholas's cock to his opening. When Nicholas was all the way inside, he kissed Sören and whispered, "I love you, darling."
"I love you too." Sören nuzzled him, and wrapped his arms around him. "So much."
They kept it slow for longer this time, eyes locked, foreheads pressed together, noses rubbing, hands sliding over each other's bodies, wanting to feel every part of each other that they could touch. Sören felt so close to him, felt so right with him. It seemed with each thrust Sören wasn't just taking Nicholas into his body, but deeper and deeper into his heart, into his soul.
They kissed as they got to that edge again, Nicholas thrusting into him faster. And again, moaning into the kiss, Sören holding him tight. Their eyes met again and they breathed each other's breath, and Sören felt Nicholas tremble against him as his own pleasure climbed that point of no return.
Nicholas gasped out, "Darling, I'm going to -"
"Come with me," Sören said.
Nicholas let out a mighty roar as his second orgasm overtook him, and Sören was right there, also crying out as his cock spouted over Nicholas's torso. They kissed deeply, hearts thundering together as the pleasure throbbed through them, and then Sören sighed with contentment.
"That was beautiful," Sören said.
"You're beautiful." Nicholas rained kisses over Sören's face.
After three shattering orgasms, Sören soon fell asleep, cozy in Nicholas's arms, legs entwined.
_
Sören is laying between his brother-lovers, tangled up with them after making passionate love for hours, coming to climax after climax. Basking in the afterglow now, feeling so much joy that it rivals the light of the fire in the hearth... the light of the stars in the sky.
The light is all the more precious for the depression Sören has tasted, feeling the distance with his wife, continuing to evade his father's approval. He has his work in the forge to sustain him... and he has this.
He wraps other-Anthony's silver-gold hair around himself like a blanket, and he feels absolutely safe. Like he has come home. The last thing he sees before he closes his eyes are Nicholas's - blue in this body, instead of dark brown, blue fire like the stars.
He thinks of that moment, holding it close to him after they have gone back to their estates and he is in the forge again, alone. He wants to capture that moment... that feeling... its energy, its power. It seems to Sören that the power of their love for each other is the strongest force in the world, the fuel to his fire, the source of the magic that he weaves with each weapon, each shield, each piece of jewelry.
A blasphemous thought: his brothers are more worthy of being gods, than the gods.
His brothers understand what it is to truly love.
He needs to make something to express everything he is feeling, thinking right now. He pauses his work, sits and closes his eyes, and he sees three gems, one for himself, one for each of his brothers. They burn like the stars. They burn with that power of love, and the way that love can make things right. The light it gives in the darkness.
It will be his finest work.
Sören woke up laying on his side, with Nicholas spooning him, the fur of Nicholas's chest against his back. It felt nice.
Sören realized that he'd woken up without an alarm, and without Nicholas waking him up, though, from the way Nicholas's arms tightened around him as he stirred, Nicholas had been up for at least a few minutes.
Nicholas began kissing the back of Sören's neck, making him shiver. "Good morning, my love."
"Hey." Sören tilted his face and they rubbed noses and kissed. "What time is it?"
"Seven."
"Seven on a Sunday morning?"
The sun was rising now, and Sören's breath was once again taken away by the pink and orange glow in the sky, the golden light through the treetops. Waking up in the trees was one of the best feelings in the world - Sören wouldn't hate mornings so much if every morning could be like this.
"I'll make you pancakes and bacon for breakfast," Nicholas said. "I know how much you love that, it's why I picked it up at the supermarket last night."
"Takk."
"But first..." Nicholas kissed him again, and Sören smiled into the kiss as he felt Nicholas's hard cock rub against the crack of his ass. "Shall we?"
"Let's." Sören sighed happily and rolled onto his stomach, and sighed again, flexing his fingers and toes with contentment as Nicholas pushed into him, the weight of Nicholas on his back comforting. Nicholas began to thrust slowly, kissing Sören's neck and nape and shoulder, and Sören moaned into the pillows, losing himself once again in pleasure, in joy.
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