Frankie helped Sören move what he could of his meager belongings into Dooku's house in Bermondsey - some of the furniture, such as the mattress on a box spring that served as a bed, had come with the flat and was supposed to stay there. But Sören's clothing, art supplies, and things like books and stuffed animals all piled into Dooku's car and the car of Frankie's aunt, who employed Sören and Frankie at the coffee shop below their flat. After everything was brought over, Dooku invited Frankie and her aunt in for tea, which turned into cooking dinner for all four of them; Frankie's aunt insisted on helping in the kitchen, making delicious chicken. Dooku hadn't seen much of Frankie prior to this and didn't know much about her apart from knowing she'd asked Sören for money and seemed rather ill-mannered, but over tea and dinner it became apparent that Frankie and Sören were very close for a reason, Frankie was affectionate and even somewhat protective of him, and Sören also seemed the same way with her.
Dooku finally learned the story of how Frankie and Sören met - they had both been at a combination art show and punk concert, and one of the men in the audience had touched Frankie inappropriately. Sören, nearby, sprang to her defense, even though Frankie was capable of defending herself. Frankie helped Sören nurse a black eye, and when she took him home, she found out "home" was a rather appalling living situation - renting a room in a seedier part of London, and one week the pipes in the building didn't work. It happened that Frankie was between roommates and her aunt needed help at the coffee shop, so Sören had packed up his things right then and there. "We rescued each other," Sören said, with Frankie nodding. Frankie had been an invaluable source of support for Sören during and immediately after an abusive relationship, and had strongly encouraged Sören to take Leja up on her offer of showcasing his art instead of hiding away due to anxiety. "He didn't even want to go to that art show," Frankie said, "and I made him go."
Dooku raised an eyebrow. "We wouldn't have met if he hadn't gone. So I guess I owe you one."
"No, you don't." Frankie pulled out a bill from her wallet. "Here." She pressed a hundred-pound note into Dooku's hand. Dooku was stunned; he hadn't expected to ever be paid back for the money he'd given Frankie.
When Frankie's aunt decided it was time to go back, and Frankie with her, Frankie and Sören lingered, hugging, and Dooku surprised himself by hugging the young woman with the pink mohawk and many facial piercings and tattoos, as well.
_
Despite Dooku's eagerness to share his home and his life with Sören, it was still a bit of an adjustment after living alone his whole life.
One of the adjustments that needed to be made was space for Sören to paint. After some discussion, Dooku decided to allow Sören use of the meditation room for such a purpose - he could feel Sören connecting with the Living Force when he painted, and indeed, Sören painting in the meditation room made the Force energy there stronger, which benefited Dooku's own meditation practice.
Dooku encouraged Sören to meditate with him, which Sören was fairly reluctant about, not being one for schedules outside of his job, but when Sören saw it would make Dooku happy he went along with it, and one side effect of the two meditating together was it increased their Force bond in ways that made sex particularly potent after meditation.
Having regular sex was another new experience for Dooku. If Sören got out of work before he did, Sören would frequently greet Dooku at the door with a passionate kiss, slamming him up against the wall and dropping down on his knees to undo Dooku's trousers and give him a "welcome home" blowjob. They'd often start their day with a quick romp before they had to go to work, and finish the night with meditation, showering together, and then slow, gentle, sensual lovemaking. Dooku was surprised by his ability to get hard and stay hard at his age, and even more surprised at how much regular sex made a difference in his mood. He was sleeping better and feeling less agitated, and definitely less depressed.
Sören made him feel young again.
But it was sometimes awkward - Dooku was used to a certain amount of manners and decorum, coming from an aristocratic background; Sören came from Icelandic farmer stock and had no qualms about using a toothpick in front of others, or burping, or farting, or scratching himself. Sören didn't know what glasses were for which kinds of wine, and Sören's experience with making tea was from a bag rather than the proper English way. He preferred finger food to eating with utensils, and ate rather quickly, messily and noisily. Sören was courteous in the ways that mattered, for example if Dooku cooked, Sören would do the dishes, and Sören did other chores without being asked, such as changing the catbox. Still, living with him made it obvious they were from two different worlds, and it was something Dooku had to get used to.
_
After they had been living together for approximately a week and a half, Sören's birthday arrived. Sören still had to work on his birthday. Dooku decided to take a half-day without telling Sören, so he could prepare, wanting to surprise him with a little celebration and gifts. He'd teased a few pieces of information out of Sören - such as knowing Sören liked chocolate cake. Dooku could have easily bought one from a bakery, but he elected to make a cake himself, knowing Sören would appreciate the effort more, so his first order of business upon arriving home was baking.
When the cake had been cooled and frosted, Dooku took a trip to pick up Sören's birthday presents. His first stop was at an art supply store, where he purchased a half-dozen canvases, and a more high-end set of oil paints and set of brushes. He was a bit surprised by how costly such supplies were - Sören's dedication to his art was all the more impressive to him now, knowing the kind of money Sören made, and lacked.
After the art supplies, Dooku went to buy a scooter that he'd been looking at on his way home from work. After several conversations with Sören about the issue of driving, it had come out that Sören's aversion to driving in the United Kingdom was due to the steering wheel and roads both being "on the wrong side", which gave him spatial issues, and he would drive a less-confusing vehicle like a scooter if he could afford one, which of course he couldn't as a "starving artist" working as a barista. Dooku was perfectly willing to drive Sören anywhere he needed or wanted to go, and he wouldn't stand in Sören's way about taking the Tube. But he wanted Sören to be able to have options, if he felt like visiting Frankie at Frankie's flat while Dooku attended to after-hours work, or anything else. Dooku also thought it would be nice for the two of them to go on bike trips together during the warmer months. Dooku knew Sören's taste tended towards the color black, so he went with a black Vespa Sprint. It wasn't cheap at all, but he wanted to spoil Sören. He paid and arranged for the scooter to be delivered to his home later that evening, when Sören would be home from work, before the guests came.
The third gift was one that money could not buy, and would be given after the celebration. Dooku was still a bit nervous about it, but he'd been thinking of it since their return from Iceland, and it felt right.
Though Dooku had made a birthday cake himself, he had arranged to have dinner catered for himself and Sören and their guests. He'd placed an order with a catering service earlier that morning, and it was ready to pick up - Dooku had opted to pick it up himself rather than have it delivered and brought in and have another interruption. So he put the boxes of food into the trunk of his car, and went to his last destination, to pick up Sören.
In the time that Dooku and Sören had been seeing each other, Dooku had never actually been inside the coffee shop where Sören worked. He was about a half-hour early, and had intended to sit at a table, drink coffee, and read until Sören's shift was up.
He hadn't anticipated the place being so packed. The parking stall in front of the building was taken, and the parking lot across from the coffee shop was full. Dooku had to park down the street, in the parking lot of an auto parts company, and walk a block to the coffee shop. When he got in, there was a line to the door. Two lines, in fact - Sören and Frankie were both taking orders up front.
Sören had been at work since seven in the morning, and there was a tired edge to his voice, but he still managed to smile and be pleasant to each customer, including the ones who were impatient and sharp with him for having to wait, even though it was hardly his fault. Dooku admired Sören's courtesy, and the way he held himself together when Dooku could feel the anxiety across their Force bond.
At last it was Dooku's turn.
"What can I get for you, sir?" Sören asked, with a small, mischievous smile, his eyes twinkling.
"I would like a small cappucino, with cinnamon and extra whipped cream."
"For here or to go?"
"For here," Dooku said. As full as the coffee shop was, there were at least a few available tables.
Sören rang it up, gave him back his change, and handed him a ticket. "I'll bring you your order shortly."
Dooku saw the tip jar and put in a substantial tip, one that made Sören's eyebrows go up. Frankie, who had just finished the last of her rush, cackled as she headed off to the kitchen.
Dooku took a seat, opened up his laptop, and started reading on his latest case. He got enough into it that he was actually startled when Sören came by a few minutes later with the cup of coffee.
"Thank you," Dooku said.
"My pleasure." Sören attempted to wink, failing at it as usual, which made Dooku smile and laugh.
Dooku looked at the time, then. "I came to pick you up. Your shift ends in five minutes, yes?"
Sören nodded. "Já. I can probably clock out now -"
"Hey, this isn't what I bloody ordered!" came a nasal woman's voice from across the coffee shop.
Sören held up an index finger and walked over to the woman's table. "What's the matter?" he asked.
"I ordered a hazelnut latte and this isn't hazelnut," the woman yelled.
Sören checked the receipt and said, "It says hazelnut on your order, and I remember pouring you a hazelnut coffee in the kitchen - it's the only hazelnut I've done in the last forty-five minutes - but it's possible it may have gotten mixed up, I'll get you another."
The woman snorted as Sören made his way to the kitchen and yelled, "Bloody foreigners."
Dooku cringed, and also felt a sharp stab of anger on Sören's behalf. Sören returned a minute later with the replacement coffee, and a small wrapped cinnamon bun - "Free, for my mistake," Sören said.
"Fucking immigrants," the woman said as Sören set down the coffee and cinnamon bun. "England's being fucking overrun with them. You can't even work a simple barista job, you should go back to wherever it fucking is you bloody came from."
Sören smiled politely - Dooku could tell it was taking Sören every ounce of restraint he had to not snap back at the woman; Dooku himself felt like yelling at the ignorant, rude bitch - and Sören said, simply, "Very sorry. Enjoy your coffee and your pastry, have a nice day." Then he hurried off to the kitchen.
The woman stood up then, all of a sudden. She tucked the cinnamon bun into her purse and slung it over her shoulder, and started walking towards the door with a coffee in each hand. Dooku then realized, in the Force, that Sören hadn't botched the order at all - the woman was scamming him to get a free second cup of coffee and maybe something else out of it. Dooku didn't like that, and he thought about using the Force to make the woman spill coffee on herself, then his legal instincts kicked in - she seemed like the type who'd sue for spilling hot coffee on herself or slipping on a wet floor - so he held back.
A few minutes later Sören came out of the kitchen, and he said to Dooku, "We can go."
Dooku put his laptop back in his briefcase, and carried what was left of his capuccino out the door, leading Sören down the street to the auto parts store. He felt a bit bad about making Sören have to walk, even though it was a block, since Sören had been on his feet all day and was very obviously tired and stressed out. Once they were in the car, before Dooku started the engine, he leaned in to give Sören a hug and a kiss.
"Thank you," Sören said. "I needed that."
"I thought about saying something and didn't want to make it worse," Dooku said. He gave a disgusted snort as he started the car and backed out of the parking lot. "She took both coffees out of there."
Sören rolled his eyes. "A couple of this morning's customers make her look tame."
"I don't know how you do it."
"I don't either, some days." Sören sighed. "It's the price I pay for giving my life to my art. I can't do that and something like what you do."
"It still bothers me," Dooku said. "You deserve better than to be treated like that. Especially on your birthday."
Sören laughed and patted Dooku's knee. "So that's why you came to pick me up."
"Well yes... and I thought it was overdue to see that part of your life."
Now it was Sören's turn to snort. "There's hardly anything special or mysterious about a coffee shop, Nico."
"It's still a different world to me," Dooku said. "I don't like the poverty you've lived in, or the people you've had to deal with - again, you deserve better - but nonetheless, you interest me."
"You are so fucking posh it hurts," Sören said. "Only someone as posh as you would say you find this shit 'interesting'. Are you Margaret Sodding Mead now and I'm some noble savage?"
"No..." Dooku felt a bit sheepish. "But everything you do - everything that makes you who you are, every part of your life - is important to me."
Sören sighed. Dooku could sense via their Force bond that he felt a little guilty for his response. The patting Dooku's knee turned into rubbing. "I'm sorry, Nico. It's been a rough day."
"I know." Dooku smiled. "But hopefully I can make the rest of the day better for you."
Sören squinted suspiciously. "Nico. What did you do."
Dooku just chuckled.
"Nico. You better not have gone all out for me."
When they arrived at Dooku's house, Dooku and Sören got out of the car and Dooku told Sören, "You go on inside. I need to bring some things in."
"Why can't I help you carry them in?"
"Because you can't." Dooku gestured at the front door. "On with you." He used the Force to smack Sören's bottom without touching it, which got a sassy butt wiggle in response - Dooku felt his cock stirring at that - and Dooku forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand.
Since he couldn't levitate objects outside without running the risk of being seen by his neighbors, it took Dooku three trips from the car to the kitchen, carrying everything by hand. The art supplies were in bags underneath the kitchen table, and Dooku loaded the boxes of catered food into the fridge.
Dragos began pretending he hadn't eaten in hours, and Dooku opened a can of food for Dragos before putting on tea. Dooku heard Sören's voice down the hall.
"Nico? Do you mind if I call Dagnýr to also wish him a happy birthday?" Sören asked.
"Not at all," Dooku said.
While Sören was on the phone with his brother - and then his sister, and cousin - Dooku drank tea and continued to read up on his case. After Sören had been on the phone awhile, there was a loud knock at the door. It was too early for the guests to arrive; Dooku answered the door to greet the man delivering Sören's scooter. Dooku signed papers and was given the key. After the delivery truck drove off, Dooku took out a large purple-and-gold bow he'd bought at the art supply shop just for this purpose, and went out to the scooter to put the bow on it. Then he came back inside, feeling self-satisfied.
Sören was done with the phone a few minutes later, and strolled into the living room. "All right," he said, "here I am. Are we going someplace where I need to change?"
"No."
"So I can put on something more comfortable?"
Dooku smirked. "Not yet."
Sören raised an eyebrow and squinted again. "Nico. What did you plan. What's going on."
"You'll find out."
Sören started poking Dooku, again and again. "Tell me. Tell me what you did..." He grabbed Dooku's shoulders and began shaking them, gently.
After a moment Dooku relented, laughing. "I invited a few guests."
"A few?"
"Just a few, yes." Dooku nodded. "And I have a couple of gifts for you. I've been debating whether to give them to you before or during the celebration -"
"Uh, you can give them to me now?" Sören asked. "I wasn't expecting anything, really, so I don't want to make a scene in front of others -"
"Why wouldn't I get you something for your birthday? You're my partner." Dooku took Sören's hand and kissed it. "I love you and want to make you happy."
"Nico, you don't have to get me anything to make me happy," Sören said. "I don't give a damn about your money, I've never had it, wouldn't know what to do with it. I just like being with you."
"Can you accept that it makes me happy to make you happy?" Dooku asked. "And I wanted to do a couple of things to make you happy."
"Oh, all right." Sören rolled his eyes and gave a sarcastic sigh. "Let me have it."
Dooku got up, walked to the kitchen, and then came back with two large plastic bags.
"You got me bags!" Sören clapped his hands. "You shouldn't have."
Dooku glared, and Sören cackled, and Dooku put the bags down at his feet before taking his place next to Sören on the couch.
Sören opened one and his face lit up immediately at the canvases. "Nico. Nico. These are high quality. This is too much..."
Dooku waved his hand dismissively. "No, it's not." He gestured to the other bag. "Go on, open it."
Sören reached into the bag and began screaming when he pulled out a set of oil paints - the set included many shades he didn't have - and the brushes. "Nico. NICO, OH MY GOD, NICO..." Sören threw his arms around Nico and laughed and sobbed. "This is the best birthday present ever and it was entirely too extravagant and I love you -"
Dooku patted Sören's shoulders. Their foreheads pressed together, they kissed, and then Dooku said, softly, "I'm not done yet."
"Nico. You already spent a fortune on this -"
Dooku took Sören by the hand, pulled him to his feet, and began dragging him away from the couch towards the door. Dooku opened the front door, stepped outside, and gestured for Sören to follow. When Sören stepped onto the front step, his jaw dropped the moment he saw what was in the driveway.
He couldn't speak for a full minute, just staring at the scooter, then he lost his ability to speak English, stammering in Icelandic, and then he pounced on Dooku, hugging him tight, laughing and sobbing again.
"Nico. Nico..." Sören pulled back, shaking his head. "I can't accept this, Nico."
"Yes, you can."
"It's too much -"
"You're worth it." Dooku took Sören's chin in his hand, looked him in the eyes. "You're worth that, and so much more. Please. You deserve good things. Let me take care of you."
Sören started to cry, and Dooku pulled him close, rocking him. He was still rocking him when Qui-Gon's car pulled up - Qui was a little early, enough to be somewhat annoying, but Dooku also knew they wanted to beat traffic.
Qui and Obi got out of the car. "Hello!" Qui bellowed. "We came for the birthday party."
"Yes, come in," Dooku said, leading the way back inside.
"Tell this fool to stop spending money on me," Sören told Qui and Obi.
"I'm glad you're spoiling him," Qui said. He handed Sören a card.
"Now or later?" Sören looked at Dooku.
"Open it," Dooku said.
The card was a pop-up musical card of cats, and inside the card were a few gift cards to different stores, both online and local. The bottom of the card was signed "Thank you for loving Father and taking care of him. You are the best thing that has ever happened to him. -Q"
Sören hugged Qui and Obi both, tearing up again. Dooku made more tea, and began unloading the boxes of food from the fridge as Sören showed Qui and Obi his paint set, and then with Dooku's permission, took them down to the meditation room so they could look at Sören's latest work in progress. Dooku came in just before tea was ready, and it occurred to him that Qui and Obi hadn't been in the meditation room since it had been painted - indeed, Qui hadn't been in the meditation room in over a decade.
"I really like what he's done here," Qui said. "The Force sings."
"Indeed it does," Dooku said, nodding.
Dooku decided after that to give Qui and Obi the tour of Sören's various paintings, hung around the house. Dooku had been right in his original assessment that Qui would love Sören's work, and when they got back to the living room Qui and Sören started a conversation about when Sören started painting as a hobby, and what he saw in his mind's eye, and what inspired him. Dooku was engrossed in the conversation, reluctantly getting up when the next arrival came.
It was Leja. She hugged and kissed both Qui and Obi - confirming what Dooku already knew that they were a part of Leja's little harem - and then Leja hugged Sören and gave him a card.
"Oh no, not more gifts," Sören said.
Leja smirked. "Open it."
Sören did. Inside the card - which was entirely in Icelandic, a nice touch - there was a slip of paper folded up. Sören opened it, and it turned out to be a flyer. A flyer advertising an art show in the first week of January in the following year - a show that would be entirely Sören's, instead of Sören being one of several featured artists.
Sören got up, started screaming, and hugged Leja tight. "You didn't have to do that for my birthday," Sören said.
"I wanted to do it anyway," Leja said, "and announcing it now seemed like the right time. You're very talented, and it's time that got some proper recognition." She gestured to the card again. "Something else you forgot, you may need to reach inside the envelope."
The envelope had a check inside for five hundred pounds.
"I can't..."
"Yes, you can." Leja nodded. "I can afford it, and it's a small way of saying thank you for all the business you have brought to my gallery."
Sören shook his head, dumbfounded, and tucked the check into his wallet. "You all need to stop."
Right on cue, the last guest arrived - it was Frankie. She had a bouquet of flowers, which Dooku quickly put in water, and she was carrying a large package.
"Et tu, Frankus?" Sören joked.
Sören unwrapped the package, and inside was a chainmaille vest, that Frankie had made herself, fit to Sören's measurements. Though the vest was obviously the least expensive gift in terms of cost, it had also taken many hours of labor, and Sören was impressed and touched enough to start crying again, as he held Frankie tight.
Frankie sat on the other side of Sören on the couch, and fawned over a now-curious Dragos. Dragos allowed himself to be pet before playing in the crinkled wrapping paper on the floor, and, finally, absconding with the bow that Sören had taken off the scooter, much to Sören's delight.
Dooku brought the guests into the kitchen, where they could help themselves from the various hors d'ouevres and courses on the table. One of the boxes contained specifically Swedish and Norwegian food - not quite Icelandic, but close enough, that Sören appreciated the effort.
For once, people were allowed to eat in the living room. There was another pot of tea, and Dooku opened a bottle of champagne.
The champagne relaxed everyone enough that, when Qui was pouring himself another cup of tea, he used the Force to lift the lid off the sugar bowl and put in sugarcubes without thinking of it. When he and the others noticed Frankie's jaw drop, the sugar bowl lid slammed to the coffee table, breaking.
"Oh dear," Qui said. He got up, startled, and that upset the teapot, spilling tea everywhere.
Frankie also got up, looking ready to bolt for the door, and Dooku used the Force to gently nudge her back into her seat. "Please sit down," he said. He waved his hand, attempting to use the Force to calm the panic he could feel cascading -
- and then Dooku was pushed back, violently, without being touched, falling onto the coffee table. Frankie looked at her hands, which had come out, and then she got up again, and before she could run off, Sören said, "Frankie, it's OK. Please."
Frankie and Sören looked at each other for a minute, and then Sören looked around the room quickly, and used the Force to bring over a box of tissues.
"You can... do that... too?"
Sören nodded.
Frankie used the Force to pull a tissue out of the box, and wiped her eyes. "You bloody wanker, why didn't you fucking tell me?"
Sören put a hand on his hip. "Same reason why you didn't tell me, until now."
Sören helped Frankie back to her seat. "I can't believe we'd lived with each other for two years and managed to hide it from each other," Sören said, laughing through his tears.
"Neither can I."
"I had a lot of experience hiding it," Sören said. "My aunt and uncle beat it out of me."
"Mine wasn't that extreme but I learned to hide it because it would be one more thing I'd get bullied for," Frankie said. "Fat, ginger, clumsy, nerdy... I didn't need more trouble."
Sören hugged Frankie tight. "I should have realized. As a wise man once said," Sören gestured to Qui-Gon. "Force sensitives have a way of finding each other."
"I always thought I was crazy," Frankie said. "I didn't know anyone else who could do the things I did... I heard rumors, of course... but I spent my entire life being alone with... all of this..."
"None of us are alone anymore," Leja said. "The Force has all brought us here, together. Because it knows we need each other. We need a family." Leja raised her glass of champagne. "The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives."
_
After all the guests went home, Dooku excused himself to the bathroom - getting himself ready for Sören's last birthday surprise - and then got the bedroom ready, taking out a bottle of lube and a bottle of massage oil. He lit candles, and scattered rose petals over the bed, and from the bed across the floor, to the bedroom door.
Then Dooku came out and served a second piece of cake to the birthday boy. If Dooku had taken awhile, Sören didn't remark on it; they snuggled close as Sören savored his cake, eating more slowly and deliberately than usual.
"Thank you," Sören said, when he'd finished his cake. "This is the nicest birthday I've ever had."
Dooku gave him a soft, sweet, lingering kiss. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear."
Sören put his plate down on the coffee table and wrapped his arms around Dooku. "It's not just the gifts. It's feeling like other people give a damn about me. You... going out of your way for me."
Dooku kissed Sören's forehead, and nuzzled him. "I love you."
"And I love you." Sören smiled, then. "I still can't fucking believe Frankie is Force sensitive."
"That was indeed a surprise." Dooku smiled back.
"It explains a lot about why she and I just clicked right away, as friends," Sören said. "How she and I can do things like finish each other's sentences and could pick up on each other's moods, almost like we were reading each other's minds, sometimes."
"The Force bond is a powerful thing."
"It is." Sören nodded. "Not just with friendships, either." Sören stroked Dooku's face, looking into his eyes. "I know things happened very quickly between us, but you... touch... something in me that others can't, that people can't see, or feel, or even know is there."
"I feel the same way about you." Dooku kissed Sören's hand. "And it's why I say things like everything about your life is important to me. Everything about you is beautiful to me. Including the parts you might dismiss as ugly, or failed, or insignificant." Dooku rolled up Sören's sleeve and traced the outline of the fire tattoo on his arm - a tattoo that covered scars, scars that Dooku was now beginning to notice that he'd seen Sören naked enough times. "Your struggles, your wounds, your scars... you are still you. A rose that grows in concrete is not less beautiful for being in an urban wasteland. It is more beautiful for being what it is, something that just happened to break through and survive and be beautiful despite all the ugliness and all that is trying to destroy it."
"You talk too much." But there was humor and affection in those words, just before Sören claimed Dooku's mouth with a hungry, passionate kiss that left them both breathless.
Dooku took their dishes to the kitchen - thankfully the mess from the broken and spilled tea service had already been cleaned up - and then he led Sören to their bedroom.
Sören's eyes widened and he let out a little gasp as he saw the candles glowing, and the trail of rose petals leading to the bed. "Nico," he whispered. "Nobody's ever-"
Dooku put his index finger to Sören's lips, and took him by the hand into their bedroom, to the trail of rose petals.
"I have one last birthday present to give you," Dooku told him.
"What?" Sören used the Force to open up his sock drawer, and out came the "willy warmer" that Sören had bought at the Icelandic Phallological Museum. "Are you finally gonna wear this?" Sören waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
The look Dooku gave him made Sören laugh out loud. "You know..."
"I know." Sören was still laughing. "Believe me, I know."
"Why are you like this?"
"Like what?"
"Such a brat."
"Because it makes you make that face." Sören leaned in to kiss Dooku's nose. "You're so cute."
"I am not cute." Dooku began to undress.
"You're very cute." Sören ogled Dooku, now stripped to a pair of black boxer-briefs. "And very sexy."
Dooku blushed. He still wasn't entirely used to Sören's frank, bold lust for him - he felt self-conscious and awkward as well as flattered and prideful all at once, and it was a very odd combination. His flustered feeling grew as Sören removed the last of his clothing to stand there completely naked with him, and Sören was already fully erect.
"You're beautiful," Dooku husked, reaching out to run his hands over Sören's lithe, willowy body.
Sören kissed him, and they made their way backwards to the bed, kissing, caressing each other. Once they had fallen onto the bed together, Sören leaned down, and nuzzled the growing bulge in Dooku's boxer-briefs, through the fabric. Dooku groaned, and then he gasped as he watched Sören take the waistband of the undergarments in his teeth... Sören began to peel the boxer-briefs down, using only his teeth. Dooku's cock sprang free, standing at attention.
When the boxer-briefs were removed and in the pile on the floor, Sören took a teasing lick at Dooku's cock, making him moan. Then Sören came back up to kiss him, deeply, Sören's hand wrapped around the cock, stroking it lazily.
"So," Sören whispered, "is this my birthday present? 'Cos if it is, you saved the best for last."
"Well, it's not."
Sören stopped stroking Dooku's cock and gave him a confused look.
"Or at least... that... part..." Dooku gave a little nervous clear of his throat, and then he said, "Tonight I want to... give myself to you."
"Give yourself..." Then it registered with Sören. "Oh. Ohhhh. You mean..."
"Yes." Dooku nodded. "I mean... that."
"You mean what." Sören gave him a small, impish smile.
Dooku took a deep breath, feeling flustered again. "I mean... I want you inside me."
"Nico, you're sure?"
Dooku nodded.
"I don't want you to feel obli-"
Dooku silenced Sören with a kiss. "I'm doing this because I want to, I've been curious about it for awhile."
Sören kissed him back, harder, and nipped his lower lip with a playful growl. "Well, since this is your first time bottoming... we have to go slow and easy."
"I know."
"I take it that's why you were awhile in the bathroom, then."
"...Yes." Dooku blushed. He still felt a bit prudish about personal hygiene matters, even though he knew "the routine" for when Sören had prepared to be penetrated by him, which seemed to have happened dozens of times now.
"You came prepared." Sören used the Force to pull over the bottle of massage oil. "I was going to suggest giving you a massage to loosen you up a bit."
"I also wanted to spoil you," Dooku said. "I've never given a massage before, but I... read up... on the subject, to prepare for you."
"Oooh." Sören smiled. "I like the thought of you reading naughty things, thinking about doing them to me."
"Mmmm." Dooku rolled Sören onto his stomach.
Dooku began to kiss the nape of Sören's neck, and down to one shoulder, then across to the other. Oiled fingers followed the wake of his lips and tongue. His tongue traced the outline of the tattoos on Sören's back - he lovingly, reverently kissed the scars that he saw, underneath the phoenixes. His oiled hands rubbed up and down Sören's back as he continued to kiss down Sören's spine. He nuzzled the smooth skin of Sören's tight bubble butt, kissed the back of one thigh as his hands kneaded Sören's ass, rubbed and caressed Sören's thigh as he kissed and licked behind the knee, kissed and licked the calf, and then his hands worked over the tense calf muscles as he turned his attentions to the other calf. Then kissed and licked up the thigh as his hands rubbed the calf, then nuzzled the other ass cheek as he rubbed Sören's thigh, and then he kissed and nibbled Sören's sensitive hips, rubbing those too before he had Sören turn over.
He spent a long time licking, nibbling and suckling Sören's nipples as his hands rubbed all over Sören's chest. His cock throbbed and dripped precum with anticipation as Sören's nipples peaked beneath his tongue, as Sören writhed and whimpered. Dooku liked rubbing his tongue fast and then teasing Sören with slow, deliberate brush strokes of his tongue, before playfully tugging the nipple ring between his teeth and sucking hard, to give it some more slow licks. When Sören started raking his nails over Dooku's back, he laughed softly and moved his lips lower, to kiss and nibble Sören's stomach. He nibbled and licked Sören's navel, and groomed the dark bush with his tongue as he rubbed Sören's thighs and calves from the front this time. At last Sören's cock was in his mouth, getting it nice and wet and ready for him. Dooku gently stroked himself as he sucked Sören's cock; he definitely liked doing this a lot more than he ever thought he would, aroused by the sight of Sören's beautiful cock and the way it felt in his mouth, the smell and the taste, and the sheer lewdness of the act. He loved feeling that loss of control, giving into his animal side, and the thought that Sören would put that cock inside him - that he would let himself be fucked - was making him tremble with desire.
Before Sören could come in Dooku's mouth, he took his cock out and instructed Dooku to lay on his stomach. Dooku felt Sören's hard cock grind against his ass crack as Sören gave his body the same treatment, kissing and licking over his shoulders and back, oiled hands rubbing and kneading where his mouth had been. "You've got such a nice back," Sören purred. "You've even got nice definition in your back. You're like a work of art, a statue of a god."
Dooku laughed softly, feeling too flustered to say anything in response.
Then he felt Sören's tongue dip inside him. Slowly licking, swirling... and when Sören's tongue brushed that spot, Dooku heard himself moan. He shuddered, gasped for breath as Sören's tongue licked it again. And again. If Sören's cock - and especially the ring in the cock head - felt even half as good as the way Sören's tongue did now, Dooku had a better appreciation for why Sören reacted the way he did when he was taken... and Dooku's cock got even harder, balls tightening, aching for what was about to happen.
His moans got louder and louder, the tension and excitement building to fever pitch, as Sören ate him. He heard himself panting, even whimpering a little, not able to help it, shaking as Sören's tongue made him crazy with sensation and need. Nothing had ever felt so good, and he would have let Sören just do that to him all night if he didn't sense Sören needed to come as badly as he did.
At last Sören stopped - a good twenty minutes later. Sören himself was breathing hard. Sören kissed and licked and nibbled over Dooku's thigh and calf before rubbing it as his mouth worked on the other one. Then Sören massaged Dooku's back some more, really easing him up, before Sören patted his shoulder and told him, "Turn over."
Sören spent an exquisite, excruciatingly long time just licking Dooku all over, grooming the silver-white chest hair and arm hair and leg hair with his tongue, like an animal. Sören's tongue felt as good all over his body as it did inside his ass, and Dooku lay there helpless in his need, never wanting Sören to stop, as much as he ached for release. Sören's tongue on his nipples, then his fingers playing with them, made him feverish, even moreso when Sören's fingers continued rubbing and plucking his nipples as Sören slowly sucked his cock... then his balls... then licked the sensitive place between his balls and ass, and then his ass again.
"Sören..." Dooku was finally pleading for it. "Sören, please..."
Sören chuckled softly. "Please, what?" He stuck his tongue back inside, tongue-fucking the prostate faster, harder.
"I need..."
"Mmmm, need what?"
"You."
Sören's eyes locked with his. Sören stopped eating him, and used the Force to bring over the bottle of lube. Sören lubed his already oil-slick fingers, and stuck a finger inside him, rubbing slowly. Sören's finger felt different from his tongue - still good - and then there were two fingers. Three was a little uncomfortable and then it stopped being uncomfortable and Dooku moaned, not able to keep from bucking against Sören's fingers inside him, wanting more.
That was Sören's cue to stop. He took a few last teasing licks at Dooku's cock, making a show of lapping up the precum - there was so much of it, now - and then he came up to kiss Dooku, as they lubed up Sören's cock, together.
"How do you want it?" Sören rasped.
"I want to see you," Dooku said. "I want to look into your eyes."
"Good," Sören said, "because I want to look at you... especially that gorgeous cock of yours when you come for me."
Dooku shuddered.
They positioned a pillow under Dooku's hips, and then Sören spread Dooku's legs and settled between them missionary-style. "If you need me to stop, tell me and I will," Sören said.
Dooku nodded. Then he braced himself - as badly as he wanted this, needed this, he was under no illusions that it was going to be anything but -
"Oh god." The initial pinching, burning, as Sören began pushing into him. He gasped with the shock of pain.
"Do you need me to stop?"
"Keep going."
Sören took Dooku's hand and squeezed, as he continued pushing past the tight anal ring. "Just take deep breaths and push out as I push in." The other hand rubbed Dooku's chest. "That's it. Thaaaat's it."
Dooku pushed and breathed through the pain - the final burning stab, like a knife going into him - and then there was just heat, and fullness. His breath came out more ragged, with the relief of that part being done.
Sören rested for a moment, and then began to move, slowly. There was discomfort that wasn't quite pain - still in shock from the size of him - and then, finally...
"Ohhhh." Dooku shuddered. "Sören..."
Sören's eyes lit up and narrowed, a mischievous smile on his face. "That's right." Sören leaned in to kiss Dooku, still thrusting slowly.
The ring in Sören's cock... the bead in the ring... Dooku reached out to grab Sören's hips, without thinking about it. The bead in the ring rubbing him there... "Yes, yes, yes..."
"Oh, fuck." Sören bit his lower lip - Dooku found that incredibly sexy - and he shivered. Across their Force bond, Dooku could feel Sören's pleasure, the way Sören was responding to the tight velvet heat wrapped around him, his channel gripping and working Sören's cock just the right way. It excited him, to know he was pleasing Sören. And Force, Sören was pleasing him.
"Sören... oh god, Sören, don't stop..."
Sören leaned in to kiss Dooku, and Dooku wrapped his arms around Sören, holding him tight, in complete surrender.
But that surrender grew ever deeper as Sören continued to thrust, as Sören's cock throbbed inside him - he loved the length and thickness and texture of Sören's shaft, and the thought of Sören's cock pumping in and out of him drove him to the edge with lust and need. The bead in Sören's piercing worked its magic on Dooku's prostate, until Sören was fucking him faster and harder and the rubbing-rubbing-rubbing on his sweet spot was making him pant and shake and melt, his entire body a prisoner, a slave to the pleasure, the frenzied need consuming him...
Sören was kissing his neck, his shoulder, his fingers playing over Dooku's body. Dooku couldn't stop moaning.
At last they were right on that edge - ready to orgasm, but not ready to stop teasing, fucking, feeling that frenzied heat - and Sören took Dooku's cock in his hand, working it harder and harder. Dooku's eyes rolled and he moaned louder as his hips rolled against Sören's, fucking back at him, needing it, needing to come, but needing to be fucked and fucked and fucked... The wet sucking sound of their fucking, the slap of Sören's balls against his ass, just made it even hotter, made him feel like an animal in heat, completely out of control, and he loved it.
"Mmmmm," Sören growled between kisses. "I'm gonna make you come for me... want that beautiful, hot cock of yours to come all over me just before I come deep inside your arse..."
The dirty talk delivered in Sören's sexy accent sent Dooku over the edge. He'd wanted to be a gentleman and let Sören come first, but it was too much. With a wild cry, Dooku erupted all over Sören's chest and stomach, and Sören sped up his thrusts, screaming as he slammed into Dooku one last time; the feeling of Sören's hot cum shooting inside him made Dooku shoot again, trembling, groaning, gasping for breath.
They kissed deeply. Their foreheads touched, and they breathed each other's breath, melting together, riding the waves of light, then kissed again and again, lost in that moment of oneness with each other, oneness in the Force.
Dooku held Sören close, petting him. Sören finally pulled out of Dooku and cackled at the mess. "Wow," Sören said. "I came so hard I think I need a transfusion of... something."
"Oh, dear." Dooku laughed too.
They kissed again. Sören pet Dooku's face and whiskers, and said softly, "Thank you."
"Thank you." Dooku kissed Sören's hand and pressed it to his heart. "I love you."
"Ég elska þig, elskan mín."
The tears came for both of them. They held each other, crying together, kissing through their tears. Dooku felt completely raw and vulnerable, exposed but in a good way. Sören hadn't just been inside him physically, but he felt like Sören had made love to his soul. As different as they were, they still knew each other, they saw things in each other that no one else had seen. Sören had touched him in a way nobody else had.
After the candles were out, and they curled up under the covers, Dooku felt himself falling asleep more quickly than usual, but not before he heard Sören mumble, sleepily, "Ég elska þig þar til andinn minn fer frá þessum heimi."
Dooku didn't speak Icelandic, but he still, somehow, understood. "I know," he said, squeezing Sören's hand before sleep washed over him.
chapter 17 | return to Northern Lights | return to Other Tolkien Fic | return to index