On Monday the twenty-eighth, it was Nicholas's sixty-seventh birthday. There was a dinner at Balthazar, and afterward back at the flat, they had cake. Sören had arranged for the cake, asking Anthony what bakery he'd used for his birthday, and asked them to make a chocolate cake with frosting roses that said "Nicholas, with an H." Sure enough, the bakery had come through:
Nicholas had tutted and facepalmed but also laughed, and gave Sören a you're going to get it look that made his cock throb with anticipation.
Besides the cake, there was gift-giving, though Nicholas had insisted people shouldn't be extravagant, since it was right after Christmas. Anthony, of course, had given Nicholas books. Sören, on the other hand, got Nicholas an indoor grill, since Nicholas had expressed interest in getting one - he would barbecue on the rooftop in the summer, but in the wintertime with his arthritis he limited his trips up there. Nicholas was delighted with the grill, and Sören was once again tickled by how domestic Nicholas was. As Nicholas put the grill in the kitchen, and started to go through the fridge to make plans to break in the grill tomorrow night, Sören smiled and gave a little sigh of contentment. It was so nice to have their cozy nest here, their peaceful, happy home.
The grill wasn't Sören's only gift for Nicholas. After Anthony retreated across the hall, Sören cornered Nicholas after he got into his usual black silk pajamas for the night.
"I have something else for you," Sören said.
"Do you now." Nicholas's lips quirked.
"Mhm." Sören queued up the stereo in the bedroom and then he made Nicholas sit in the armchair. Nicholas's eyebrows went up as "Pony" by Ginuwine started - not something Nicholas would have chosen for himself.
Sören was still dressed - he'd gotten a little dressed up for Nicholas's birthday, wearing black leather pants and a ruffly white pirate shirt with a black vest. He began to undress to the music, slowly and sensually thrusting his hips, wiggling his ass as Nicholas watched him.
I'm just a bachelor
I'm looking for a partner
Someone who knows how to ride
Without even falling off
Gotta be compatible
Takes me to my limits
Girl when I break you off
I promise that you won't want to get off
With his shirt and vest off, bare-chested, Sören came over to Nicholas and began to grind against Nicholas's lap, taking Nicholas's hands and running them over his chest. Nicholas's thumbs brushed the nipples, making him moan softly.
If you're horny, let's do it
Ride it, my pony
My saddle's waiting
Come and jump on it
If you're horny, let's do it
Ride it, my pony
My saddle's waiting
Come and jump on it
Sören danced more suggestively as he took his leather pants off. Nicholas facepalmed, chuckling when he saw that underneath the leather pants, Sören was wearing the hibiscus-and-pineapple bikini briefs that Anthony had given him for Christmas. Sören came back over to Nicholas in just the tropical bikini briefs, which had a hard bulge in them, and he smiled as he guided Nicholas's hand to rub the hard erection through the fabric, noticing Nicholas's pajama pants were also tented. Sören turned around and pushed his ass out at Nicholas, and Nicholas caressed, rubbed, and spanked Sören's ass.
If we're gonna get nasty, baby
First we'll show and tell
Till I reach your ponytail
Lurk all over and through you baby
Until we reach the stream
You'll be on my jockey team
For the end of the song, Sören took off the bikini briefs, freeing his hard cock, and as he turned around to show off his ass again, Nicholas saw it - Sören had been wearing a butt plug all evening, including at the restaurant. He was already open and ready for their evening.
Nicholas gave an appreciative groan before he smacked Sören's ass. "You naughty little minx."
"I thought I was a rakehell, Daddy."
Nicholas slapped Sören's ass again. Sören's cock jolted and throbbed, and Sören moaned, wiggling his ass again at Nicholas, teasing them both.
When the song was over, Sören turned off the stereo and climbed onto the bed, propping himself up on one elbow, lazily stroking his cock. Nicholas chuckled as he took off his pajamas and joined Sören on the bed.
"That was quite a present," Nicholas said.
Sören looked down at Nicholas's very hard cock, dripping precum. "I take it you didn't hate it."
Nicholas chuckled again and kissed the tip of Sören's nose. "I can't believe you, in those ridiculous knickers."
"You still got hard." Sören took both their cocks into his fist, stroking them together. Nicholas groaned and shivered.
"You are so delicious that even something ridiculous like that doesn't take away from it," Nicholas said, before he claimed Sören's mouth with a deep, hungry kiss. He started kissing Sören's neck, and Sören moaned, his cock throbbing, his hole twitching around the plug, wanting to be filled, taken, fucked.
One kiss became another, and another. Nicholas lay back against the pillows and pulled Sören atop him, their hands feverishly exploring, caressing, as their hard cocks rubbed together. In the heat and urgency of their passion, Sören almost forgot about the last gift. As Nicholas reached for the lube, Sören put a hand on his arm, remembering just in time. "There's something else I wanted to give you."
Sören climbed off, and Nicholas watched as Sören opened the dresser. The gift was hidden in his sock drawer, a long, flat box. He brought it over to Nicholas and waited, feeling a little nervous - though they'd tried bondage a couple of weeks ago and both enjoyed it, this was the next level. Nicholas opened the box and found a black leather collar and matching leash - simple, elegant. He looked up at Sören, then at the contents of the box. "You... want me to put this on you?"
"Only if you want to," Sören said. "It doesn't have to be all the time, if you do, just a sometimes thing for fu -"
"Kneel," Nicholas said, his deep, velvet voice commanding.
That one word went straight to Sören's cock. Nicholas was a natural dominant, whether he realized it or not.
Sören knelt beside the bed, and Nicholas fitted the collar around his neck, then clipped the leash through the O-ring in the center of the collar. Nicholas took the leash in his hand and tugged Sören to move closer. Nicholas's hard cock was right there, dripping precum, and Sören licked his lips at it, wanting to suck. Nicholas took Sören's chin with his other hand and his thumb traced Sören's lips. "You want this?" Nicholas asked, gesturing to his cock.
Sören nodded. "Yes, Daddy."
"Too bad. Naughty brats like you shouldn't get what they want right away." Nicholas tugged on the leash again and patted his lap.
As soon as Sören climbed onto Nicholas's lap, Nicholas pulled him over his knee. Sören moaned, and again when Nicholas began to rub Sören's ass. "You were a naughty little thing with that cake," Nicholas said.
Sören looked over his shoulder and stuck out his tongue, wiggling his ass playfully.
"It seems that I should give you spankings for my birthday," Nicholas said.
"Yes, please."
With the leash wrapped around one hand, Nicholas began to spank with the other, slapping Sören's ass harder and harder. Sören rubbed his hard cock against Nicholas's thigh, moaning each time Nicholas tugged on the leash to let him know who was in charge. He felt like he was going to explode from lust and the pleasure-pain of the spanking - it was even hotter to get spanked while on the leash like this.
At last Nicholas took the plug out of Sören's ass, setting it on the bedtable, and he pulled on the leash. Sören climbed onto his lap and threw his arms around Nicholas, shivering as Nicholas reached around to rub his stinging ass, soothing and teasing. "I think," Nicholas rasped, "it is time for you to ride me."
Nicholas lubed up his cock and Sören sank down, moaning as Nicholas possessed him to the hilt. Sören began to ride, and Nicholas tugged on the leash when he wanted Sören to work his hips harder, faster. When Sören held on tight, bucking as hard as he could, Nicholas began to nibble and lick Sören's neck, growling. "You are delectable," Nicholas whispered.
"So are you." Sören grabbed Nicholas's head and leaned in for a kiss.
Then Nicholas slapped Sören's ass, tugged with the leash again, and resumed kissing, biting, licking Sören's neck. "I love this," he husked. Their eyes met. "I love you."
"I wanted to give myself to you," Sören said, putting his hand over the hand that held the leash. "I'm yours."
"Yes. You're mine." Nicholas bit the sweet spot between Sören's neck and shoulder, making him cry out.
Sören had been trying to keep it down, but he couldn't anymore, and their flesh was slapping together. Across the hall, Sören heard Anthony moaning, and knowing Anthony was jerking off listening to them just got Sören even hotter. He wondered what it would be like to fuck Anthony as Nicholas fucked him... to fuck Nicholas as Anthony fucked him... to ride Anthony's cock as Nicholas took Anthony. That last thought threatened to undo him. Sören's nails dug in Nicholas's shoulders and he let out a plaintive whimper. Nicholas's free hand reached down to stroke Sören's cock.
"Mine," Nicholas whispered between kisses at Sören's neck. "My boy."
"Yes, Daddy..."
Nicholas kissed Sören's heart, and then turned to lick a nipple. "Such a lovely boy."
"Oh, Daddy..."
Nicholas lapped and suckled one nipple, then the other. The hand holding the leash began to play with one nipple as his mouth worked on the other, and it drove Sören wild. He climbed to that edge and stayed there, lost in sensation and surrender, until he couldn't hold back anymore.
"Daddy," Sören gasped. "Pabbi..."
"Yes, darling. Come for me."
Their eyes met and Sören climaxed. Before he could scream, Nicholas seized Sören's mouth in a fierce, fiery kiss that intensified Sören's orgasm. Sören moaned into the kiss and Nicholas groaned, and Sören felt Nicholas shuddering against him, spending into him. They gasped for breath, panted, holding each other's hands as the pleasure pulsed and throbbed. Nicholas pulled Sören against his chest and held him, rocked him.
"That's a good boy," Nicholas whispered, petting Sören's curls. "That's my good, sweet, lovely boy."
Sören fell apart, shattered by his orgasm, and by the tenderness... that feeling of belonging so viscerally expressed by the leash. Nicholas's arms tightened around Sören as he wept, and when Sören picked his head up he saw Nicholas was shedding a few tears, silently.
"Are you OK?" Sören asked.
Nicholas nodded. He gestured to the leash. "This... means more to me than I can express."
Sören smiled through his tears. "No matter who else I'm with, I'm yours. I always come back to you."
Nicholas took Sören's hand, kissed it, and put it to his heart. "I know," he said, and then he pulled Sören's head to his chest again. Sören rubbed his nose in the silver fur, enjoying the feel of it, the way it made him feel cozy and safe.
Eventually Nicholas took the leash and collar off Sören. "So... you were OK with that?" Sören asked, wanting to make absolutely sure.
Nicholas laughed. "More than OK. That was... most enjoyable." He smiled. "We shall have to do that again. Perhaps even once a week or so."
That was better than Sören had hoped. He grinned and gave Nicholas a kiss. "I like that, Daddy." He rubbed his nose in Nicholas's beard.
"Good." Nicholas kissed the tip of Sören's nose. His voice was soft and husky as he said, "You really are a good boy, Sören."
The words melted Sören's heart. He loved that, soothing one of his oldest hurts, being an intolerable, unforgivable ne'er-do-well in his guardians' eyes. "I love you."
"I love you, my own." Nicholas nuzzled Sören's curls. "So very much."
Sören drifted off to sleep, and a few hours later was woken up by the nightmare that had been plaguing him since he was four, being ambushed by demons made of smoke and fire, being attacked, burning to death. He heard himself screaming until he sat up, heart pounding, in a cold sweat, shaking.
Nicholas also sat up and put on the light. Across the hall Sören heard Anthony swearing, and the sound of Anthony limping as quickly as he could; the door banged open and Anthony stood there on his cane, looking alarmed.
"Bad dream," Sören muttered. "Sorry."
"It sounded like your dream was terrible, not merely bad." Nicholas gave him a concerned look.
Anthony looked at Nicholas and Sören, then the armchair, then back at them. "Do you mind if..."
"No," Nicholas said, gesturing to the chair.
Anthony sat down. The look of compassion on his face, and Nicholas's, broke the wall of composure, Sören trying to be brave and strong and not burden anyone with it; he already felt bad enough that he'd woken them both up. Sören looked down, crying. Nicholas put an arm around him, and then Anthony migrated from the chair to the bed, also pulling Sören into his arms. "Hey," Anthony said. "Hey." He took Sören's chin in his hand and made Sören look into his eyes, hurting for him.
"It's that stupid fucking dream again," Sören choked out. "The one I keep having, been having since I was four. Where I'm burning to death." Sören sobbed. "I hate it. It makes no fucking sense. When I was four, I'd never seen fire on TV, no neighbors' houses, nothing that would have influenced me to have a dream like that."
"My therapist would say it's symbolic," Anthony said. "Probably when you were that small you were very afraid of something, and the fire represented the fear of whatever you couldn't control. And it keeps coming back every time you're afraid of losing control."
That made sense - worrying about his tiredness causing him to make a fatal error at work, losing a life, losing his job - but it also didn't, at the same time. It felt like more than just pure symbolism, the embodiment of fear. It felt as real as the dreams he'd had of being in another body, with his brother-lovers. As real as the dreams of exile into the ice and snow. As real as the dreams of burning ships, gone mad from a broken heart, nothing left to lose. It felt connected, somehow. Which felt insane.
It felt so real that when Sören closed his eyes he could see it, feel it again, like he was there. The smell of smoke, the too-hot flesh, trying to fight yet welcoming release at the same time, broken, devastated, already dead inside. Sören wept.
"It's after two in the morning," Nicholas said. "You should try to get back to sleep."
"Don't wanna," Sören said, and then he realized how much he sounded like a kid throwing a tantrum. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to express his distaste for that idea as calmly as he could, despite the dream continuing to shake him to tears. "I worry about... that dream coming back, if I go back to sleep."
"Oh, sweetheart." Nicholas gave him a little kiss. "Daddy's here, my love. Daddy will keep you safe."
You couldn't save me, Sören thought reflexively, and that seemed even more insane. "I'm scared," Sören said in a small, defeated voice, feeling like a helpless child and hating it. I play God every day in the operating theatre, I can't fix my own brain to stop shitting on me with dreams like this when I badly need to get some fucking sleep.
"If I may..." Anthony took a deep breath. "Would it help if both of us were beside you?" He gave Nicholas an apologetic look. "I normally wouldn't ask, but -"
"In this circumstance I will allow it," Nicholas said. "He needs comfort. We can both be his safety blanket tonight." Nicholas then quickly looked at Sören. "That is, if it's OK with you -"
"Of course," Sören said.
And so it was that Anthony climbed into bed on the other side of Sören. Sören snuggled into Nicholas's chest, with Anthony spooning him, both of them holding him. As bad as the circumstances were that created this arrangement, Sören nonetheless relished the feel of being sandwiched between them, relaxing enough to involuntarily flex his fingers and toes. After the terrible ordeal of the nightmare, feeling like he was dying, now he felt incredibly safe and cozy - indeed, it was one of the most wonderful feelings in the world to lay here like this with them, cuddled up together, and Sören felt a little ache, wishing they could do this every night. Laying between them, Sören felt complete.
He felt safe enough to ease back into sleep, without fighting it, without being afraid of more of the same dreams. He was safe and warm. Safe and loved.
There is fire again, but this time he is not burning. The fire is in the hearth.
Sören lays there in the different body, sandwiched between Nicholas and Anthony on a rug before the fire. They are all naked, holding each other, legs braided. Other-Anthony's silver-gold hair is wrapped around him like a blanket, and in the haze of afterglow, other-Nicholas's eyes are smiling.
The love between him and his wife has grown cold, but his brothers are so warm. Here in their arms, the darkness he struggles with seems so far away. The fire in the hearth seems to live inside him, fueled by them, shared with them. There is light here, there is hope, there is joy.
Sören thinks about it the next time he is in the forge, looking into the flames as he smiths. He thinks of that feeling of love, of joy, of hope, of peace, laying there with his brothers. He thinks of Anthony's hair, and Nicholas's eyes. He needs to express those feelings, somehow, that energy, preserve that moment for all eternity... to be able to draw on its light when the darkness comes again.
He sets his hammer down and thinks about what to make. Not a statue of the three of them, nor some other type of monument. He keeps thinking of the way Anthony's hair looks in the light, the way Nicholas's eyes shine like diamonds.
Jewels. Three jewels, one for each of us. The brightest, most brilliant jewels the world has ever seen.
He has made glass before, but this will be a much more complicated undertaking. He needs to get it just right.
When he has everything he needs, he gets to work. He keeps reliving that moment, pushing his strongest feeling of love into the stones... remembering that joy, that hope, that peace. The three stones glow like small suns, glorious.
They are so much more than jewels. Each of them has a piece of his soul. A spark of his fire. Their light.
chapter 16 | return to Learning To Fly | return to Other Tolkien Fic | return to index