Broken Wings: Chapter 17

"I still don't understand why you're making me wear a blindfold to come in," Sören said, making a face with the scarf around his eyes.

Anthony snickered. "You'll see. Almost there."

Anthony unlocked the door and led Sören through. Sören had to wait by the door, blindfold on, as Anthony went into the flat to look for the surprise. He didn't have to go far, it was on a windowsill in the kitchen, soaking up the little bit of February winter sunshine.

Anthony brought over the surprise, carried in his free arm. "Put out your hand," Anthony said, then, "your other hand."

Sören did, and Anthony sidled along for Sören to touch it. "Hi, Seumas," Sören said, stroking fur, smiling. Sören smirked again. "Does he have a pineapple on his collar? Is he wearing a cat-sized version of George?"

"You can take off the blindfold now."

Sören took off the blindfold and he squeaked when he saw what Anthony was holding - a chocolate shorthaired tabby. Anthony found Sören's reaction delightful - and adorable, his heart aching for him once again - and Sören began to give the cat more pets, his face brighter than the sun.

"Oh my god. Oh my god, you got a caaaaaaaaaaaaat."

"I did. I thought Tobias might like a friend, so Nicholas took me to the animal shelter to get a cat for my birthday." It was Friday, February third, the day before Anthony's thirty-sixth birthday.

"Such a cutie!" Sören began skritching the cat's chin; the cat purred louder. "Can I hold the kitty?"

"Yeah." Anthony handed Sören the cat.

Anthony and Sören walked to the couch, Sören carrying the cat. Sören let go once they were on the couch and the cat continued to stand on him, sniffing curiously. Sören gave the cat more pettings. "I love her. Him. Uh..."

"You were right the first time," Anthony said.

"Does she have a name?"

Anthony rolled his eyes - he'd been expecting this and he felt a little ridiculous mentioning it to someone else. "At the shelter, if they have a name from their previous owner, that's the name listed on their paperwork and... her previous owner was apparently really into that American cartoon, South Park, named her Chocolate Saltyballs after the Chef song."

Sören howled with laughter. "Oh my fucking god. Well, she is very chocolatey."

"Yeah, I'm thinking of renaming her because that's just -"

"OH NO YOU CAN'T." Sören's eyes widened, horrified. He pet the cat harder, who headbutted him, purring as if to agree. "That's a great name. WE CAN CALL THE CAT 'BALLS' FOR SHORT."

"It's a girl."

"OK then... Miss Balls."

Anthony facepalmed and now he was laughing too.

Anthony and Sören spent a few minutes petting the cat and then Tobias also came over to say hello. That was when Anthony realized and rose from the couch on his cane. "Do you want something to eat, or drink?" Mind, gutter. He shoved away the mental image of offering Sören his cock. They weren't back together yet.

"Something to drink, but I can get it." Sören also got up and went to the kitchen before Anthony could stop him. Sören came back with a cold ginger ale for each of them - it was a warm day - and when he sat back down, Miss Balls climbed on him, grabbed his wrist, and gently nibbled Sören's hand as if to say "why did you stop petting me?" Sören laughed softly and resumed petting her. "Awwww, what a sweet girl."

"She really is. That's why I took her home."

"She's kind of old too, huh?"

Anthony nodded, once again regarding the boniness and loose skin. "The shelter said she's about fourteen or fifteen. The owner had to rehome her quickly and didn't say much."

"Awwww, poor baby. Well, it's good that you were willing to adopt an older cat. A lot of people don't."

Anthony nodded again. "I like old furballs."

"I bet," Sören quipped before taking a sip of his ginger ale.

Anthony's face burned - he had a feeling Sören's shot was a way of saying he noticed Anthony's crush on Nicholas, without coming right out and saying it directly, and if that was the case Sören wasn't wrong at all, but Anthony wasn't ready to have that conversation if ever. He didn't think Nicholas was interested, or would be interested, and he didn't want to make things awkward. Anthony sighed, sipped his own ginger ale, and continued skritching Miss Balls. Tobias got needy for attention and draped himself on Anthony's shoulder. Anthony couldn't help smiling, angst melting away at the stereo surround sound of two happy cats purring. Finally Tobias got down and went over to get food.

"I have a surprise for you too, you know," Sören said.

"No, I didn't know, but you're always full of surprises." Anthony smirked, wondering what it could be - guessing it was some sort of mischief.

Sören put his drink down and then he reached into his pocket. He produced what looked like a folded-up legal-sized envelope. He unfolded the envelope and handed it to Anthony.

Anthony opened the envelope and his mouth dropped when he pulled out the contents. Oasis was playing a reunion concert at the Etihad in Manchester tomorrow, February fourth. Anthony hadn't mentioned it, but he had tried to get concerts as soon as he'd heard about it and it was already too late, they'd sold out within the first 24 hours. Anthony couldn't believe he didn't just have tickets, he had a pair of good tickets.

Anthony hugged Sören, laughing and crying a little. "Oh my god, Sören." He could have kissed Sören, and he knew that was a bad idea, so he pulled back and looked at the tickets again, still incredulous. "Where... how..."

"My colleague Pamela has the biggest crush on Liam Gallagher and she wouldn't shut up about it for weeks. Tickets went on sale during a night when I was working graveyard, so as soon as I got a break I hopped online and ordered a pair."

"You're coming with me," Anthony said, tugging at Sören's sleeve. "You have to -"

Sören nodded. "I already booked a room at a hotel. I had to get one with one bed because that's all they had, but we've, you know. Shared a bed and just cuddled before, it shouldn't be an issue."

Anthony nodded, though he felt a wistful ache - making love after the concert would have been perfect. But he got choked up for another reason. "Sören, remember when I told you my uncle Nigel took me to go see Oasis in concert when I was a teenager?"

"Jæja, I remember you telling me he let you drink underage and it was your first time getting shit-faced."

"And hungover." Anthony smiled, remembering that memory with fondness and a touch of sadness. "Well... that concert was in February 1996. Twenty years ago. This is the twenty-year anniversary -"

Now Sören was the one to throw his arms around Anthony and hug him tight. "I didn't know what year it was. I..."

"Yeah." Anthony swallowed hard, eyes burning with unshed tears. "Thank you. Thank you so much, for this."

Sören patted him. "It's a really fitting tribute to his memory, já?"

Anthony nodded. "Yeah it is."

Just before he could start to cry, Miss Balls tapped him and gave a tiny meow as if to demand more pettings. "Awwwwww," Anthony said. He began to pet his new cat, and kissed the top of her head. "I'm gonna feel bad about being away from Miss Balls overnight so soon after I got her, but she'll have Nicholas."

"As you know, he's very good with cats. He has that magic touch," Sören said in a way that let Anthony know he wasn't just thinking about cat pettings.

Anthony's cheeks burned again, not wanting to think about Nicholas like that. But he knew Nicholas wasn't just a contender for stealing his cat's affection - Nicholas Decaux had already stolen a piece of his heart, and Anthony hated wanting what he couldn't have.

At least going away for an overnight trip with Sören would feel like they were back together again, even though they weren't. He had that, and for now, that was enough. Anthony skritched Sören's beard like he was a cat, making Sören giggle, before he resumed skritching Miss Balls.

The next morning, they took a cab to the train station. In the cab, Anthony noticed something that touched him almost as deeply as the gift of the tickets itself - back in 2012, Anthony had given Sören his Oasis T-shirt to wear and told him to keep it; he'd gotten the Oasis shirt at the concert in 1996 and was in pristine condition for being a vintage since Anthony had worn it rarely. After the breakup Anthony assumed Sören probably threw it out. But today Sören was wearing it. The exact same T-shirt.

"You... you never got rid of it?" Anthony's eyes misted.

Sören shook his head. "I couldn't bring myself to get rid of it. Or the love notes."

Anthony hugged him tight, and fought the urge to kiss him.

It was a four-hour train ride north. They entertained themselves watching episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation on DVD on Sören's laptop. It felt almost like old times.

When they checked into their hotel room, Anthony noticed the room had a hot tub, and he wondered if Sören really could only get a room with one bed due to availability, or if this was a seduction plan. He found himself hoping it was the latter, but he didn't want to get his hopes up too high.

However, if Sören was trying to seduce him, he also wasn't heavy-handed about it, being his usual self. Anthony tried to stay casual, too, distracting himself by looking at the mini-bar. "I think if we're gonna drink, in honor of my late uncle and all, we should do it before we go to the concert, rather than waiting in a queue for hours to get a drink," Anthony said.

Sören nodded, and then he held up a finger. Anthony watched as he zipped open his duffel bag and produced a bottle of Brennivín. Anthony threw his head back and laughed - the Icelandic aquavit had started to be imported to the UK in 2015 but it was still a pain to come by.

"Got you covered," Sören said. He grabbed two shot glasses from the mini-bar and poured for them. As he poured he raised an eyebrow at Anthony. "Have you ever had aquavit before?"

"I've had vodka, but -"

Sören snorted. "This drink is called the Black Death where I come from." He handed a shot glass to Anthony of clear liquid.

"Well..." Anthony felt a touch of apprehension. "Bottoms up."

"Skál."

They clinked glasses and drank. The alcohol burned on its way down, and tasted a lot like cough syrup, only worse. Anthony didn't know how Icelanders could drink this stuff, but then, he knew they ate fermented shark and entire sheep heads, so this was probably nothing.

But even Sören made a face when it went down. "WOOOOOOOOOOOO, goddamn, it's been awhile." Sören blinked slowly and smacked his lips. "Jesus."

Anthony couldn't help laughing. "Enough to knock a Viking on his arse, eh?"

"Just about." Sören gave the thumbs up as he put his glass down. "Come on, let's see if the Gallaghers can make bigger arses of themselves than we can."

The concert was everything Anthony had hoped it would be and more. Oasis played all the classics in their repertoire; Liam and Noel traded barbs without punching each other or flouncing offstage. Anthony and Sören were close enough to get a good view, and the acoustics in the stadium were superb. Anthony and Sören sang along, though Anthony got a little choked up during "Wonderwall", the penultimate song in the set - that song reminded him of his friendship with his uncle... the way his uncle had talked him out of suicide as a depressed, friendless teenager, only to take his own life in 1998. The way Anthony's friendship with Mark Lauer had begun, hearing Mark play that very song on a harp in a cafe, as if Mark already knew him, knew he was grieving. Missing his uncle. Missing that first lover, who had ghosted him.

The final song was "Live Forever". Sören flicked a lighter and got even louder, belting out:

Maybe I just wanna fly
Wanna live, I don't wanna die
Maybe I just wanna breathe
Maybe I just don't believe
Maybe you're the same as me
We see things they'll never see
You and I are gonna live forever

Their eyes met as they sang together. Sören's free hand took Anthony's hand, and squeezed. This had been one of their relationship songs back in 2012-2013. They had loved each other so much. Anthony still loved him fiercely. The nostalgia hit even harder with the alcohol, and Anthony cried, but it was a mixture of happiness and sadness. The words still rang true even after everything. Maybe you're the same as me / We see things they'll never see.

They might not live forever, but he wanted to spend forever with this man. He was even more sure of that now, than he was when he proposed on Christmas 2012.

Back at the hotel, they sang on the way up to their room, laughing. The alcohol was definitely hitting Anthony, and he declined as Sören poured two more shots.

"I'm drunk enough," Anthony said.

"Hi Drunk Enough."

Anthony snorted. God, I missed that.

Sören downed both the shots of Brennivín, which made Anthony question the Icelander's sanity, but then he supposed that was not even a question, Sören's particular brand of eccentricity was one of the things he loved most about him. To prove that he had enough alcohol in his system already, Anthony went to his luggage and took out something he packed when he was stone-cold sober: George the wig. He put it on the nightstand.

"Oh my god." Sören fell over on the bed, wheezing. "You brought George?"

"You bitch at me about leaving him home all the time, of course I had to bring him."

"You should have brought him to the concert."

"No, then some idiot probably would have stolen him, and I'd get in trouble. Besides, George was warm and cozy sleeping in my bag, weren't you?" Anthony made George nod.

"Wow, Anthony. Just... wow." Then Sören took off his shirt. "George might be warm and cozy, but I'm too hot."

Yes, yes you are. Anthony tried not to ogle Sören shirtless, and failed. The sight of those pierced nipples, and knowing how Sören responded to them being played with, went to Anthony's cock.

"Actually, I worked up a bit of a sweat during the concert so, ah. I think I'm gonna go for a dip in the jacuzzi and relax. Want to come?" Sören quickly added, "With?"

Anthony definitely wondered now if Sören was trying to seduce him, but kept his mouth shut. He followed Sören to the jacuzzi. They stripped down - as nervous as Anthony had once been about Sören seeing him naked with his scars, the alcohol took the edge off, and Sören didn't seem to mind at all. And Anthony definitely didn't mind the sight of Sören, though the heat and bubbles made him feel more melty and mellow than horny.

"The concert was awesome," Anthony said. He reached over and patted Sören. "You are fucking awesome for taking me."

"I'm glad." Sören smiled. "I had fun. We should do that again sometime."

"We should." Anthony sighed. He could get used to this, going away with Sören for the weekend. He felt that ache again, missing him.

The cats were on Anthony's mind again when they got out of the tub, and he found himself firing off a text to Nicholas to ask how "the kids" were. Sören snickered when he saw what Anthony was doing.

"And people say I'm a mother hen," Sören teased.

"Well, you are. But..." Anthony sang. "Maybe you're the same as me / We see things they'll never see..."

"You and I are kitty slaves forever..."

Anthony laughed at that. Then Nicholas sent back a text that was just a picture of Miss Balls with a large dollop of wet food on her nose, and a smiley face emoji. Anthony showed Sören, who made an adorable high-pitched noise.

"She's so cuuuuute! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! I'm gonna die," Sören said.

"She gets a food snoot every time she eats," Anthony said softly, feeling that warm, tender fuzzy feeling towards "his kids". "It's especially charming when I've had a stressful day at work and she comes over with her food snoot, like she knows I need cheering up."

"Cats are the best. Toby makes my life so much better just by being in it."

Anthony nodded solemnly. "Yeah. Cats are lifesavers."

Sören's eyes widened and then he got that trollish look on his face, and Anthony had a feeling Sören was about to say or do something utterly ridiculous, drunk as he was. Sure enough, Sören broke out into song:

I said maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me
And after all, you're my Wonderballs

Anthony doubled over. "Sören."

"What?"

Anthony facepalmed, still laughing. "Sören, do you have to ruin every song in existence?"

"Já?"

Anthony laughed harder.

Sören got up and staggered over to his duffel bag - Anthony noticed Sören wobbled on the way there. Anthony was about to ask Sören what he was doing but then he saw Sören take out a T-shirt and pair of boxer-briefs. Anthony looked down and realized he was still naked from the jacuzzi - they'd both been naked - and now he also got up to put on a pair of linen pajama bottoms. But he knew Sören wasn't particularly modest, and sure enough, Sören's visit to the duffel bag was for an ulterior motive. Anthony went into hysterics again when he saw Sören taking the googly-eyed pineapple bucket out of his duffel bag. "Sören... what in the fuck..."

Sören blinked slowly, as if Anthony was the one being ridiculous and not him. "What?"

"You... brought... the pineapple... on our trip..."

"You brought George, didn't you?"

"That's different."

"No it's not." Sören patted the pineapple. "You're gonna hurt his feelings."

"Oh... it's a boy?"

"What, George can't be gay like his dad? Don't you want baby Tribbles?" Sören was referencing a doodle he made for Anthony years ago, of Anthony's wig breeding Tribbles.

Then Anthony thought of when Sören had met Anthea, his late grandmother, Anthea insisting "the gays can make babies now" and yelling "CORNELIUS, WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO PUT A BABY IN HIM?" at Anthony. As if Sören could read Anthony's mind, he turned to the pineapple and George and yelled, "ANANAS, WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO PUT A BABY IN HIM?"

Anthony laughed so hard he gave himself a cramp. "Jesus Christ, Sören..."

Sören crawled onto the bed, also laughing, face red, tears streaming down his cheeks. They clung to each other as they laughed together, completely losing it. Sören started snorting, he was laughing so hard, and that made Anthony laugh even harder. For a moment Anthony worried that other people in the hotel would complain about the noise.

When they calmed down, Sören propped himself up on one elbow and gave Anthony a naughty look. Anthony wondered what was up with that - it was the sort of look Sören sometimes got back when they were together and Sören was looking for sex. Anthony stopped wondering when Sören said, "Speaking of making babies..."

"Hmmm?"

Sören ran a finger down Anthony's bare chest. "Fuck me," he husked.

Anthony blinked. He couldn't believe it. After all this time he'd been waiting and pining and aching - fearing that Sören wouldn't give him a second chance in the end - those were the two words Anthony had been longing for with every fiber of his being.

And yet, it was absolutely the wrong time. It wasn't just that it hadn't been a year yet, though that was part of it.

"Sören, you're drunk," Anthony said.

"Jæja."

"You can't even walk in a straight line right now."

"Nothing about me is straight."

Anthony laughed - he'd missed those kinds of jokes so much - but then he quickly got serious again and gave Sören a stern look. If it had been anyone else laying there spread out like a feast, drunk, Anthony would still say no, it would bother his conscience. But especially knowing Sören's history, with having been roofied in Reykjavik and waking up in an alley, Anthony did not want to touch Sören when he was like this. "Seriously, Sören. I mean it. You can't consent right now."

"So you're saying I'm too fuck to drunk?"

And then, of course, it dawned on Sören as he heard how drunk he was. Anthony nodded, laughing again, but still stern, unyielding. "Yes, Sören, that is exactly what I'm saying. You're too fuck to drunk." He booped Sören's nose. "Look. When you're sober again, if you still feel the same way - tomorrow, even - that's another story. But tonight..." Anthony shook his head. "I'm not going to take advantage of you."

Sören blew a raspberry but then he nodded. "Yeah, you're right. I shouldn't have asked."

Anthony also nodded, and sighed. He hoped Sören wasn't horny for him just because of the alcohol, and that, too, was another reason why they couldn't go there right now. "Let's get some rest." The relaxation of the hot tub was combining with the alcohol to make his eyes heavy.

"OK."

They turned out the lights and cuddled up together in bed, just holding each other. But Anthony couldn't fall asleep right away - he was sleepy but the proximity of Sören's body was making him a little horny, even as he was steeling his reserve to not go there, not now, not when Sören was like this. And Sören was still awake too. Awake and drunk, and started giggling.

"What."

"I should have brought my kazoo. Maybe we can't get it on, but George and Ananas -"

"Oh my god, Sören, go the fuck to sleep."

Sören gigglesnorted, and Anthony lost it again too. It was nice to fall asleep in Sören's arms, a smile on his face.

chapter 18 | return to Learning To Fly | return to Other Tolkien Fic | return to index