In the week since Dooku had first bottomed for Sören, he bottomed twice more, including last night - Dooku was still a little sore as he made the drive home from work. Sören still bottomed more often overall, but Dooku found he enjoyed the prostate stimulation and, just as much, the feeling of intimacy - letting Sören into the most vulnerable place of him, being one flesh, complete union and surrender.
He thought of Sören as he drove home - he was already getting hard, thinking about the way they'd made love last night, the way he'd lay on his back and propped his legs on Sören's shoulders, going mad with lust at the sight of Sören losing control, fucking him hard. Then later, when they'd both recovered, Sören straddled him and rode him slowly, sensually, for what seemed like an eternity, until they couldn't take it anymore and then Sören climbed off his cock, turned around, and rode him - Dooku had sat up then, Sören's back against his chest, one arm wrapped around Sören and the other stroking his cock to match Sören's wild, frenzied rhythm, riding him like a bull.
He was definitely worked up now, aching and breathing harder. He felt almost embarrassed by his lack of control, even the way he was driving faster now, impatient to get home and carry Sören off to the bedroom as soon as he saw him, maybe even fuck him against the wall...
Dooku pulled into the driveway, and with trembling hands, took his briefcase out of the passenger's seat. He almost ran to the door. When he opened it, he was a little surprised Sören wasn't right there in the foyer to greet him, as he usually was... and then more surprised to hear the sound of sobbing, coming from the living room.
Shit. Dooku felt awkward, standing in the doorway with an erection, and wondered if his arousal would comfort Sören or make the upset worse somehow. "Sören, sweetheart, are you all right?"
Then he heard Sören's voice murmuring soothingly above the sobs, and realized the person crying wasn't Sören. Well then. Dooku put his briefcase down at his desk in the study, then promptly marched to the bathroom to run his hands under cold water and splash cold water on his face - a technique he had learned to use at work when he got aroused thinking of Sören, to help distract himself. When Dooku had softened somewhat, he gingerly paused in the doorway of the living room, watching a moment as Sören held a sobbing Frankie and rocked her back and forth, before clearing his throat.
Sören looked up, and Frankie looked over her shoulder. "Nico," Sören said.
Dooku gave a small, apologetic smile. "What's going on? Can I do anything to help?"
Sören looked at Frankie, and she fell apart again, another round of sobbing. Dooku gave a soft sigh and said, "I'll make tea."
Dragos had been hovering around Sören and Frankie, and followed Dooku into the kitchen. Dooku gave his cat pettings while he waited for the water to boil, and when tea was ready, Dooku carried the tea service into the living room, with Dragos trotting behind him. Dooku sat on the armchair near the couch, where Sören and Frankie were curled up together; Dragos used the footstool near the armchair to climb up and onto Dooku.
Dragos being so insistent for Dooku's attention necessitated using the Force to help himself to tea, and he was quietly grateful that he didn't have to disguise it around his guest. He gestured to the tea service. "Please have some," he said.
Frankie pulled off of Sören with a nod, and mumbled her thanks.
After sitting in awkward silence for a few minutes, drinking tea, Dooku finally said, "So... what happened? If you're comfortable sharing."
Sören and Frankie looked at each other, and then Frankie nodded at Sören and Sören spoke for her. "Her girlfriend broke up with her."
"Ah." Dooku frowned. "That's unfortunate."
"The unfortunate part," Frankie growled, "is that she fuckin' left me for someone else. Someone she'd been cheating on me with this entire time."
Dooku's frown deepened.
"It wasn't just that," Sören said. "She came to the shop to do it, in public, and embarrassed the shit out of Frankie by saying a few hurtful things."
Frankie nodded, and the tears came bubbling again. "She made fun of my weight, and..."
"That's atrocious." Dooku snorted. "You're better off."
"That's what I told her," Sören said. He glared. "I had a few words for her bitch ex, too."
Frankie nodded. She laughed, and cried, and laughed and cried again. "He sure did. Just before he threw them out."
"Them?" Dooku's eyebrows raised.
"Já, them. Her ex brought the new girlfriend in." Sören sipped his tea as angrily as a person could drink tea. "It was disgusting."
"I don't understand how anyone could be so needlessly cruel," Dooku said.
"I'm used to people being shitty to me," Frankie said. "People have been mean about my weight and other things my whole life."
Dooku sighed. Frankie was a bit chubby, but she carried it well. "Frankly, your weight is fine," Dooku said. "I dislike the trend these days to starve oneself. You look healthy."
"No offense," Frankie said, "but unless you're into women your opinion doesn't count."
"Oh please," Sören said. "Just because we prefer men doesn't mean we're not allowed to have aesthetic opinions. There's lots of gay men who go into fashion or hairdressing."
"And regardless," Dooku said, "if she truly cared for you such things wouldn't matter."
Sören nodded. "I think Nico here is hot as fuck but my attraction to him isn't just physical. First and foremost, I like who he is."
Dooku blushed, and gave a small smile.
Frankie made exaggerated vomit noises until Sören elbowed her, and Frankie gave him a playful punch on the arm. Then Frankie went back to sobbing, and Sören put down his tea and pulled her close, petting her mohawk.
"There's other girls out there," Sören said. "You don't need her bullshit. You'll find someone better."
"How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?" Dooku inquired.
Frankie looked up and said, "Twenty-two."
"Younger than I thought," Dooku said. "It took me sixty-eight years to find someone." His eyes met Sören's, and his heart skipped a beat at the look of love in Sören's eyes.
"I don't want to wait forty sodding years," Frankie wailed.
"No, but it took me thirty-two, almost thirty-three years, myself," Sören said, continuing to pet his friend. "When I was your age..."
Frankie gave him a look, and Dooku snorted again, this time with amusement.
"...let's just say mistakes were made," Sören said. "I moved to England because I'd shagged about half the gay men in Iceland - I'm only slightly exaggerating - and felt like a change in scenery would broaden my prospects. But even then... mistakes were made."
"Yeah, like Justin," Frankie said.
"Exactly," Sören said.
Dooku realized it was the first time Sören had ever mentioned his abusive ex by name.
"Justin the footballer," Frankie said, derisively.
"You dated a footballer," Dooku said, bemused.
Sören nodded, with an eyeroll. "And a semi-famous one. Arsenal. It started off as a hookup and turned into more. He wasn't as dumb as he sounds."
"He was a dumb cunt for treating you the way he did," Frankie said.
"And so's your ex." Sören patted Frankie. "At least your ex never hit you."
"It might have been kinder if she had." Frankie broke down crying again.
Sören held Frankie tight, and started rocking her again. He kissed the top of her forehead, like she was a small child, before she buried her face in his chest. "You'll find someone else. You're a good girl - if we both weren't gay you know we'd have already ended up together. In the meantime, good riddance to that bitch. That was vile. It's her loss, not yours."
"Indeed," Dooku said. "I can't even fathom why she would make such a disgusting scene in public."
"People started throwing shit at her on the way out," Sören said, with a little vindictive smile. "Some of our customers can be arseholes, but our regulars weren't gonna sit there and let Frankie be treated like that."
"I would have said something in your defense if I had been there," Dooku said. "I wish I had."
"Thanks," Frankie said.
"So, that's why I brought her here," Sören said. "I know you probably had plans after work, but -"
Dooku waved his hand. "You're a good friend, and that just makes me love you more." He meant it; Sören's heart was one of the things he loved most about him.
Sören smiled. He pet Frankie some more, rocking her; Frankie's tears were subsiding a little - she was crying quietly now instead of noisily.
"Would you like to stay for dinner?" Dooku asked.
"I don't want to impose." Frankie sniffled, and used the Force to pull out some tissues from the box.
"No, I think it would be good to let us take care of you this evening," Dooku said.
"Thank you." Frankie nodded. "Only if you don't mind."
"I don't mind," Dooku said.
"Thank you," Sören said. Their eyes met, and across their Force bond, Sören spoke directly into his mind: I'll make it up to you later.
"Yes, thank you again." Frankie paused. "I wanted to say 'thank you, Nico' but I feel somehow like that would be too, uh -"
Dooku nodded. "Sören is the first and only person to call me that, the short version of my middle name, Nicolae. People just usually call me by my surname, Dooku, which started when I was a lad in boarding school. But I suppose that's too formal, as well."
"I could call you Pops," Frankie said.
Sören laughed. "Yes, good."
Dooku's expression soured slightly at that, but then the way Sören was amused by it made him relax and take amusement in it as well. "All right." He smiled. "If your father wouldn't mind."
Frankie snorted. "You're joking, right?"
"Oh." Dooku frowned. "I take it that you and your father..."
"I don't know my father," Frankie said. "My mum raised me by herself, in council housing."
"'Raised.'" Sören's fingers made air quotes. "Her mother is about as much of a piece of work as my Aunt Katrín. Drank, got violent when drunk. Something Frankie and I bonded over when we became friends."
"I'm sorry," Dooku said. He felt awkward saying it - it felt trite. He gave a deep sigh. "My childhood wasn't pleasant either, though at least neither of my parents were drinkers. My father didn't need to drink to stomach taking me to the woodshed." He realized then he normally didn't reveal this part of his past - Sören was the first he'd told - and being able to come out about it to another person felt strangely liberating. He'd kept in silence too long - first in fear, then in shame - and being able to open up and admit this happened to him was a positive step forward.
Sören recognized it too; with the Force, Sören reached out to give Dooku's knee a squeeze. Dooku's eyes teared up at the touch.
"I had my aunt," Frankie said. "She's always been kind to me. She gave me a job as soon as I was old enough."
"She also helped you come out," Sören said. He smirked. "Maybe your aunt knows a single lady or two..."
"Oh, please." Frankie shook her head, laughing. "I don't want to hook up with some old lady." Then she looked at Dooku and looked away, sheepish. "I'm sorry -"
"No need to apologize," Dooku said, but he too felt sheepish, self-conscious at the age difference between he and Sören.
"Different strokes for different folks, as they say," Sören said.
"I was kind of surprised," Frankie said. "Justin was a bit younger than Sören..."
"Well, he was old enough," Sören said. "But Justin isn't all of my history. I've usually gone with older men, and Justin reminded me there's a reason why." Sören gave Dooku a lustful look then. "Uh, more than one reason why."
Dooku's self-conscious feeling turned into being flustered, flattered, and trying to not think lewd thoughts and have an awkward erection with a guest over.
Then Dooku looked down - he hadn't changed out of court dress yet, though at least he wasn't still wearing a wig, which was in his car. "I'll get changed to make something for dinner," Dooku said.
"There's no rush on dinner," Sören said, "we can decide what we're going to do, but by all means, get comfortable."
Dooku placed Dragos on the footstool, and walked down to their bedroom. As he changed, he heard Frankie sobbing again, and Sören murmuring soothingly. When Dooku came back to the living room, Frankie was wailing, and Sören looked distraught, hurting for her.
Sören finally looked up at Dooku, and Dooku tried to smile, but then Frankie let out another long sob and Dooku frowned, feeling bad. Sören scratched his head, brow furrowed in thought, and then he asked Dooku, "Can you do me a favor and go bring my satchel?"
Sören had a denim-and-camo satchel bag on a small table with his art supplies in the meditation room. Dooku retrieved it, and gave it to Sören with a quizzical look. He sat back down in the armchair and watched as Sören opened the bag up.
"All right," Sören said. "I haven't done this in awhile, not since before I moved out, I think..." He pulled out a glass pipe - decorative, with the bowl shaped like a turtle - and then a small plastic bag.
Dooku raised his eyebrows.
Sören began packing the bowl. Frankie's jaw dropped. "You still had some?" she asked.
Sören nodded. "Unlike you, I can make a quarter last for awhile."
"Er." Dooku cleared his throat. "Is that a weed?"
Sören and Frankie looked at each other, and then busted out laughing. "A weed," Sören said. "Wow, Nico, your English is worse than mine and it's not even my first language."
Dooku glared, and then Sören stuck out his tongue and Dooku let out a sigh of mock exasperation.
Sören continued to pack the bowl, then he paused and said to Dooku, "You've never...?"
"No," Dooku said, truthfully. "Not even once."
"Wait, how old are you?" Frankie's eyebrows went up.
"I shall be sixty-nine on the twenty-first," Dooku said.
"So wait, you came of age during the hippie era and you never..."
"Correct," Dooku said. "I was busy with school and establishing a career in a very conservative profession. I am what my peers of that time would call a 'square'."
"Well, I'm an artist, so now I'm going to make you a triangle," Sören said. He grinned at Dooku. "There's a first time for everything."
"You want me to... smoke... that."
Sören nodded. "Frankie needs to calm down, and this will help her take the edge off, and you're gonna get a contact high from being in the same room, so you might as well just toke up with us."
Dooku sighed, rubbed his forehead, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Never in his life did he think he'd be smoking marijuana, not the least of which for the first time at age sixty-eight, with a lover young enough to be his son.
Sören lit the pipe and took a deep puff, and then passed it to Frankie. Dooku watched as Sören held in the smoke, and after a moment let it out, coughing. Frankie took a puff, and then passed the pipe to Dooku. Dooku held the pipe, looking at it.
"Puff or pass, but do it fast, don't burn up my stash," Sören choked out.
Dooku put the pipe to his lips. The skunky smell was unpleasant, and so was the heat, crisping his nostrils; nonetheless, he sucked in, and did as Sören and Frankie did, holding in the smoke before exhaling. He coughed violently as smoke clouded around him.
Sören waited for Dooku to stop coughing before he lit the pipe again, took another puff, passed to Frankie who puffed, and then Dooku held the pipe, considering, before Sören paused coughing to give him a look. Dooku took another deep puff, and had another coughing fit.
Sören used the Force to pour Dooku another cup of tea and pass it to him. In between sips, Dooku grumbled, "I don't understand how the youth can enjoy this with the smell and all of the coughing."
"That's not why people do this," Sören said. "The payout comes after."
"Hmph." Dooku sipped his tea. "I may be too old for this to even have an effect on me. I don't feel anything different."
Sören and Frankie looked at each other and cackled before Sören lit the pipe again.
_
"I think I forgot how to move my legs." Dooku tried again to get up from his chair, but felt like he was made of rubber.
Laughing, Sören got up from the couch and took Dooku's hand, pulling him to his feet. Dooku leaned on Sören for a moment, also laughing.
Sören helped Dooku walk to the bathroom, and waited outside the bathroom door in the hall while Dooku went about his business. Dooku grabbed onto the sink to pull himself up, and when he was ready, he leaned on Sören again.
They walked back to the living room and Dooku surveyed the two pizza boxes - between the three of them, they had demolished one and a half large pizzas.
"I still can't believe I ate that much," Dooku said.
"You had the munchies," Frankie said.
"We all did." Sören nodded.
"I don't feel like getting up, myself, but I need to head home," Frankie said.
Dooku looked at the time and raised an eyebrow. "Tube?"
Frankie nodded. "I've been on the Tube at this hour before, and you probably shouldn't drive."
"I don't feel comfortable with you taking the Tube in your current state, either," Dooku said. He looked at Sören, who nodded. Dooku couldn't believe he was saying this, but here it was. "You may spend the evening here."
"Are you sure." Frankie gave Dooku a deathly serious look.
"I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it." Dooku gestured to the couch. "It folds out into a bed, and I have some spare linens in the hall closet. I don't know how comfortable it is -"
"I don't have a change of clothes," Frankie said.
"You can wear one of my T-shirts to sleep in," Sören said. "Since I'm taller than you it should even out the size difference."
Somehow, Sören and Dooku fixed up the couch bed for Frankie - Dooku still felt strange moving around, like the gravity was somehow different, or he was breathing a different kind of air, or both. Then Dooku refrigerated the leftover pizza and cleared the boxes and cleaned up the living room a little.
Dooku put on the television for Frankie - he got more channels than she did, and showed her. Dooku then departed for the study to do one last check of his e-mails and anything important, while Sören spent some time talking to Frankie before she was ready to turn in, but Dooku couldn't concentrate. He felt like his mind had been emptied.
Sören found him in the study, in a lightly meditative state. "Here," Sören said. "Let me help you."
Dooku leaned on Sören all the way to their bedroom. Sören began undressing, putting on a T-shirt and flannel plaid pajama bottoms, and then he helped Dooku strip out of his clothes and put on pajamas.
"I think I'm probably too high for..." Dooku's voice trailed off.
"It's all right. I actually wanted to paint while I'm like this." Sören patted the bed. "You can sleep some of it off."
Sören tucked Dooku in and gave him a little kiss. Dooku smiled to himself, deeply relaxed; after awhile he felt Dragos climb onto the bed and settle next to him, purring. Dooku reached out to pet Dragos, and the petting and purring lulled him to sleep.
Dooku woke up to feel Sören climbing in next to him. Dooku's eyes opened briefly to look at the time - Sören had been painting for over five hours, and it was three hours before Dooku would have to go in to work. Dooku made a noise.
"Do you have court?" Sören asked.
"No," Dooku said. "After yesterday in court, I have court again in two days. Today is just paperwork."
"You can do that at home," Sören said. "Call the chamber and tell them you're taking a sick day."
"...Now?"
"Obviously not now, silly." Sören kissed the top of Dooku's head, laughing softly. "Before you're supposed to go in."
Dooku sighed. "A sick day?"
"Já. A mental health day." Sören snickered. "I have the day off, and I'd like to spend it with you."
Dooku snuggled into Sören. "That's nice." He nuzzled Sören's beard. "I'm sorry I fell asleep before we could..."
"It's all right." Sören kissed the tip of Dooku's nose and stroked his face. "It was nice to see you stoned and, well... happy."
"You make me happy," Dooku said.
"Happier, then?" Sören rubbed his back. "It was cute."
"I am not cute."
"You're fucking adorable."
_
Dooku woke up to the sound of his alarm going off. Instinctively he reached out to turn it off, and then he groaned, not wanting to get up.
Before he could doze off again, he felt a poke on the tip of his nose and heard Sören say, "Boop." Dooku sleepily opened his eyes and saw his cell phone in his face.
Reluctantly, Dooku sat in and called his barrister chamber, where one of the secretaries would be just coming in at this hour, getting the office ready. He explained briefly that he wasn't feeling well and taking a day off, and he would be back tomorrow and catch up on paperwork.
As soon as he got off the phone, Sören snatched the phone out of his hand, put it on the bedtable, and gave Dooku a hard, hungry kiss. Dooku moaned into the kiss, and again when he felt Sören's hard-on rubbing up against his thigh.
"I watched you sleep," Sören rasped. "It took me every ounce of my strength to not wake you up and start ravishing you."
Dooku chuckled, and kissed Sören back, more soft and gentle. "I don't think I would have minded that."
"I did want to be a responsible adult and let you get your rest and call into your job." Sören's hand was rubbing Dooku through his pajama bottoms now, and Dooku groaned, his cock stirring beneath his lover's touch.
They kissed again, and again, and Sören began kissing his neck - god, that was one of his most sensitive places. Dooku was almost embarrassed by the moans he couldn't help, but Sören's mouth felt too good to make him stop for the sake of dignity. Dooku lost himself to pleasure, weak and melting with need to Sören's kisses, licks, and nibbles up and down his neck.
Sören's hand reached down the pajama bottoms and took out his cock; Dooku groaned loudly as Sören started stroking it, slowly, in time with the brushes of his tongue.
"Mmmmmmm." Sören's mouth claimed his again, and then Sören nipped Dooku's lower lip, before he playfully licked his tongue against Dooku's for a few lashes, then kissed him again, deeper. "You like that?" Sören's index finger swirled around the slit of Dooku's cock head, which was starting to drip precum.
Just then, there was a knock on their bedroom door.
"Oh shit," Dooku heard himself say under his breath.
Sören grinned - Dooku rarely swore, so producing that kind of reaction meant Dooku was really into it, and Dooku was pleased this pleased Sören. Then Sören called out, "What?"
"Just letting you guys know I'm on my way back to Greenwich," Frankie said from behind the door. "So if you want to lock up behind me and all of that..."
"All right," Sören said. Then he looked at Dooku, somewhat apologetically, and asked, "Do you need a ride?"
"Nah, I can take the Tube, it's fine. I'm not too stoned now." A nervous laugh. Then a snort and Frankie said, "Unless that question was meant for your man and not me."
Dooku facepalmed and Sören let out that wild laugh Dooku loved so much, even when it was at his expense. "There are jokes about 'taking the Tube' in here somewhere," Sören said.
Dooku made a noise, and Frankie laughed too. "You guys are perverts," Frankie said.
"No, he's a pervert," Dooku yelled.
"He's the one with his dick out right now," Sören said.
"Thanks for the info," Frankie said.
"You're welcome."
"Cunt."
"Bitch."
"Love you," Frankie said.
"Love you too," Sören said, smiling. "Stay safe, call me later if you need anything. I might be occupied but I'll return your call when I'm free."
Frankie snorted again. "Occupied. Fucking pervert."
Sören laughed, continuing to laugh as he kissed Dooku again and resumed stroking Dooku's cock, making him moan. Soon Sören had peeled off his pajama bottoms and Sören helped him off with his pajama top. Dooku returned the favor, undressing Sören, running his hands over the creamy exposed flesh. He drew one of Sören's nipples into his mouth just as they heard the door close, indicating Frankie had left.
Sören arched his back and cried out as Dooku suckled, crying out again as Dooku's tongue swirled around the aureole before lapping at the nipple fast and hard. He took the nipple ring between his teeth and gave a little playful tug before sucking the nipple again, and then they heard Dragos scratching at the bedroom door, meowing.
Dooku reluctantly took Sören's nipple out of his mouth, with a little sigh. "He usually eats around now," Dooku said.
Sören nodded, petting Dooku's whiskers fondly. "Go take care of the baby."
Dooku used the Force to open the bedroom door, and climbed out of bed, naked. Dragos meowed louder at the sight of him and began to pace expectantly. Once Dooku made it to the bedroom door, Dragos trotted down the hall, leading the way to his food dish. Dooku walked down the hall naked, erect, and before he joined Dragos in the kitchen, he went to lock the front door. Though his neighborhood in Bermondsey was quiet and not prone to crime, it was force of habit. Dragos lingered in the kitchen doorway, meowing again, and Dooku said, "Yes, yes," following the cat into the kitchen.
Once the cat was fed, Dooku stopped in the guest bedroom to wash off the cat food smell. Then he decided it would be a good idea to prepare himself while he was there, so he spent a few moments getting cleaned up for sex, washing up in the sink. When he got back in the bedroom it was apparent that Sören had the same idea; he could hear the water running in the bathroom. Dooku climbed onto the bed and then, feeling somewhat self-conscious about it, propped himself up on one elbow in his best attempt at a seductive pose, and began stroking himself. Sören came out of the bathroom to find him like that, and gave a low whistle, then an approving grin.
"You are so fucking hot." Sören climbed onto the bed and crawled to him on all fours, with a little growl.
Before Dooku could respond - or attempt a response, too flustered to speak - Sören climbed over him, giving him a deep, hungry kiss. Dooku groaned as he felt Sören lay on top of them, their hard cocks grinding together.
For a little while they just kissed and kissed, cock rubbing cock, Dooku's hands roaming over Sören's back and ass. Their cocks grew slick with dripping precum, and Sören finally collected some on his fingers, pushing into Dooku's mouth for him to taste. Sören took a few playful, sensual licks at Dooku's tongue before kissing him again, and then his kisses trailed over Dooku's jaw, to his neck.
Dooku moaned as Sören kissed and licked his neck, his throat, the sweet spot where the neck meets the shoulder. He was so exquisitely sensitive there, and just the feeling of Sören's full lips on his neck brought him dangerously close to climax. When Sören began kissing his nipples, it was even more heavenly. Dooku felt like he was melting into the mattress, as his cock throbbed and balls tightened. Sören kissed down the length of Dooku's body, spending a good amount of time kissing Dooku's stomach, tracing the definition in the abs with his tongue. Dooku made inhuman noises as Sören kissed, licked, and nibbled his thighs, another deliciously sensitive place. And at last, Sören took Dooku's cock into his mouth, swallowing it down to the hilt, eyes locked, letting Dooku see the heat in his gaze. Sören cupped and rubbed Dooku's balls with one hand, his free hand reaching up to caress Dooku's chest and stomach, thread his fingers through the white chest hair.
Just before Dooku could come in Sören's mouth, Sören gave him a wicked grin and took Dooku's cock out of his mouth, teasing it with long, slow licks, and then stuck his tongue in Dooku's ass. The dance of Sören's tongue on his prostate kept him on that edge, desperate to come but never wanting the pleasure to stop, Sören's tongue taking him to new heights of wild excitement, making him completely lose himself.
Sören ate him and ate him, giving hungry little growls in response to Dooku's grunts and moans and sighs. At last, the rubbing of Sören's tongue sent him over the edge and Dooku had a powerful orgasm, shooting on Sören's face as Sören's tongue slowed down inside him, giving a last few licks that made his orgasm even more intense.
Sören lapped up cum from Dooku's cock and then rested his head in Dooku's chest, kissing the center over his heart as Dooku caught his breath.
"That was incredible," Dooku said when he could breathe and find his ability to make words again.
Sören smiled at him.
Dooku felt Sören's hard-on against his thigh, and he patted Sören's ass. "I have to take care of you, now."
"All right," Sören said. "What would you like to do to me?"
"Everything." Dooku smiled, and Sören grinned back. Dooku's stomach fluttered at how beautiful Sören's radiant grin was, lighting up his whole world.
"Well..." Sören's hand rubbed the center of Dooku's chest, where his head had been, and then it was just his fingers walking, and his fingers made their way to rub and tease a nipple, making Dooku's cock stir again. Dooku groaned at Sören's magic touch. "We can't do everything all at once, but we've got all day, so pick something to start with and we'll do other things later."
Dooku gave a mock exaggerated sigh, which became a moan as Sören's thumb rubbed Dooku's nipple, before he rolled it between his thumb and index finger and resumed rubbing it with his fingertip. "It's difficult to think when you do that."
"Is it? I'm so sorry." Sören leaned in and replaced his finger with his tongue, taking slow, deliberate licks at Dooku's nipple, smiling as he watched it continue to peak.
"You're not helping."
"I'm very helpful." Sören took the nipple into his mouth, sucking it hard before he resumed working his tongue, faster.
With a growl, Dooku found himself grabbing Sören by the curls and crushing his mouth to Sören's, kissing him hungrily. Sören moaned into the kiss, and responded by taking both their cocks into his fist, stroking them together, which made Dooku moan as well. Sören collected precum on his fingers again and Dooku licked and sucked his fingers before they rubbed their tongues together, then Sören reached down to anoint his fingers once more and applied the precum to Dooku's nipple, lapping it off.
They kissed and Dooku rasped, "I want to do to you what you did to me."
Sören smirked. "You mean like this?" Dooku watched with great interest as Sören rubbed precum onto his own nipple, and leaned in for Dooku to suck, which he did feverishly, going out of his mind with lust. When Sören anointed his other nipple Dooku licked and suckled that as well, with Sören clutching his head, panting and gasping.
Then Dooku pulled back and said, "You know what I mean. What you did..." He gestured to the lower half of his body.
Sören nipped Dooku's lower lip before giving him a more gentle kiss. "I want to hear you say it."
Dooku felt shy and self-conscious - so undignified, so ungentlemanly - but he was also desperate with need and desire. He'd never been so completely undone, and he loved that feeling of being out of control, being all animal hunger and heat. Their eyes met, and Dooku slipped his index finger through the ring in Sören's cock, possessively. "I want to devour you."
With a wicked grin, Sören climbed up Dooku's body, and straddled his shoulders, so his ass was right in Dooku's face. After a few teasing licks at the sensitive spot between Sören's balls and ass, Dooku stuck his tongue inside and once he found that magic button he showed no mercy, eating Sören with relish as Sören wailed and whimpered and howled with pleasure. Dooku was rock-hard again, but only gently stroked himself, teasing himself as he tongue-fucked Sören as fast and furious as he could, lips suctioning around the opening.
Before Sören, never in a million years did Dooku think he'd ever do something like this and enjoy it, and that feeling of giving himself completely over to such debauchery was exhilarating, as exciting to him as the taste of Sören's flesh, the sounds Sören made in response, what he knew from experience Sören was feeling at each lash of his tongue. He loved this; he'd waited too damn long to finally indulge the curiosity he'd had since he was a young man at boarding school. And it was fitting to be with the man he'd fallen in love with, the one who had somehow thawed the ice and brought sunshine and color to his world. This wasn't just an act of lust, but an act of love. He wanted to please Sören, to give him ecstasy, the purest, truest feeling of what it was to be alive. When Sören at last climaxed, the sight and sound of him screaming as his cock sprayed the headboard and the wall almost brought Dooku to another orgasm with the sheer beauty of it. He could feel Sören's joy across their Force bond, and as he pulled Sören into his waiting arms, he heard himself saying "I love you," over and over again, like a mantra.
Sören rested in his arms as he came down, and then Sören nuzzled him, smiling. "Thank you," he whispered.
Dooku kissed the tip of his nose, smiling back.
Sören reached for Dooku's hard cock. "I take it you enjoyed yourself."
"Do you even have to ask?"
"I like to hear you say it." Sören nibbled Dooku's neck, making him gasp and shiver as electricity shot through him, directly to his already aching cock. "I like hearing you want me as badly as I want you."
"I want you," Dooku said. He kissed Sören, and then he nipped Sören's lower lip the way Sören often nipped his, looking into Sören's eyes. "I want to fuck you as hard as you've ever been fucked."
Sören moaned with approval. "Fuck, yes."
Sören straddled Dooku's hips, and sank down on Dooku's cock. Dooku groaned at the sight of Sören's channel taking him, until he was buried to the hilt. Sören rested, getting adjusted to the length and thickness of him, and then worked his hips slowly, the cock gliding in and out, before Sören pressed down on Dooku's chest and started bouncing on his cock, riding with abandon.
Dooku gripped Sören's hips and matched his rhythm, driving into him mercilessly. The feeling and sound of his balls slapping Sören's ass drove them both wild, making Dooku groan and Sören cry out. Sören's fingers teased Dooku's nipples as he rode, and Dooku loved every minute of it, never wanting to stop, as badly as he wanted to come. The raw, hot sex was too delicious, and he savored it... especially the sight of Sören riding him, and at the end, stroking himself feverishly. When Sören's orgasm hit him and his hot cum shot across Dooku's chest and stomach, Dooku let go, coming hard. The knowledge that he was coming inside Sören's ass and Sören loved feeling it made his orgasm intense, toe-curling, mind-numbing bliss.
Sören collapsed on top of him and they kissed deeply, then pulled apart gasping for breath... breathing each other's breath. Their foreheads touched and their noses nuzzled, and Dooku looked into Sören's eyes, letting out a shuddery sigh at the love he saw within them. Sören reached out to stroke Dooku's cheek, and whiskers, and gave him a soft, lingering kiss.
"I love you," Sören husked.
Dooku smiled. "Ég elska þig."
Sören laughed. "Your Icelandic is still awful." But there were tears in his eyes now, touched by the effort to speak his language. He clasped Dooku's hand in his, and kissed it, before pressing it to his heart with a little squeeze. "But it sounds beautiful."
Dooku kissed him hard, and then pulled Sören close, melting into joy.
They drifted off to sleep together in each other's arms, and Dooku woke a few hours later to watch Sören, still sleeping. He smiled fondly at the mop of tousled curls, the long lashes, the little smile on those full lips. Not able to help himself, he peppered kisses over Sören's face, and when he started raining kisses over Sören's beard, nuzzling it, he felt himself harden again; Sören kissed him back, and Dooku deepened the kiss, before his lips moved to Sören's neck.
Sören moaned, craning his neck to bare his throat, and Dooku licked and kissed that, too, making Sören moan louder. Sören's nails dug into Dooku's back, and Dooku groaned at the sweet sting, loving it. He nibbled the place where the neck met the shoulder, making Sören cry out, and then Dooku picked his head up and cupped Sören's chin in his hand, making Sören look through sleepy eyes to meet his hungry gaze. "I want you," Dooku said, and his free hand took Sören's hand, to place on his hard cock.
"Mmmmm, good." Sören kissed him. "And what do you want, elskan mín?"
"Take me." Dooku's voice shook with desire. "Be one with me." His voice got softer as he said, "Fuck me."
Sören kissed him again. He gently rolled Dooku onto his back, and they kissed as Sören fingered him, first one finger, then two, then three, rubbing his prostate. When Sören had three fingers inside of him, he started kissing Dooku's nipples, using his free hand to rub and pluck one nipple as his lips and tongue pleasured the other. It was all Dooku could do to not come right then and there, and at last he surprised himself by grabbing Sören's head and kissing him with a fierce growl.
"Now," he rasped. Then more gently, "Please."
Sören grinned, and used the Force to bring over the bottle of lube that was now always present on their bedtable. Sören poured lube over his own cock, and poured some directly into Dooku's channel, and then guided the tip in. Dooku had only bottomed for Sören three times thus far, so though he was more used to it, Sören was still a tight fit, and Dooku breathed and pushed through the initial discomfort. At last Sören was in him, and Dooku took Sören's hands and squeezed them.
"My love."
Sören leaned in to give Dooku a deep kiss, taking his first thrust slowly.
Sören took it slow, and gentle. He was a sensual, deliberate lover, wanting to make it good for Dooku - he made it good for both of them, moaning as Dooku's channel wrapped around his cock again and again, letting Dooku feel his pleasure across their Force bond.
"You have such a hot arse," Sören groaned. "So... fucking... good."
Dooku loved that. He also loved the feel of the ring in Sören's cock rubbing against his prostate. The slow, delicious rubbing felt better and better, until Dooku was writhing underneath Sören, gasping, panting, melting to Sören's cock, almost seeing stars at the way Sören stroked inside him, playing him like a master played a violin.
Sören kept it slow until the last possible minute - until they were both shaking, making inhuman, feral noises - and then Sören put Dooku's legs on his shoulders and showed no mercy, pounding harder and faster. Sören took Dooku's cock in his hand, working it in rhythm with his hips, the slap of his balls, and Dooku arched to him, giving himself completely.
"You're mine," Sören growled. "You're mine to fuck, and I'm gonna make you come so fucking hard..."
"Please." It was almost a sob. "Sören, I'm so close..."
"Come for me."
Dooku gasped and cried out "Sören, oh god, yes," as he watched his cock shoot over Sören's chest. With one last hard thrust Sören shuddered, letting out a wordless cry. The feeling of Sören coming inside him made Dooku shoot again, and this time he did sob, shattered with the release, throbbing so intensely it almost hurt. Nothing had ever felt better, and he had never felt closer, more connected, to someone in his life. Tears overcame him, and Sören cried with him, moved at what he could feel across their bond.
They held each other, kissing, crying.
"You're not alone anymore," Sören husked between kisses. "You belong to me now."
Dooku had no words for that - what he felt went beyond words. He threw his arms around Sören and kissed him deeply, as deep as his love.
They lay there together, lost in the afterglow, and finally Dooku looked at the clock. It was early evening now - they'd been in bed all day. When he showed Sören, Sören's laughter rang out.
"You've never spent all day in bed, have you?" Sören asked.
"Not unless I'm ill, and even then I would usually work out of my bed." Dooku sighed, and chuckled. "I don't know what's become of me, but I like it."
"I like it too." Sören kissed the tip of Dooku's nose. "Everyone deserves a day off now and again."
Dooku stroked Sören's curls, and then his face, his beard. "What shall we do for dinner? We have leftover pizza but it isn't much."
"We can save that as a snack," Sören said. "You feel like going anywhere?"
"Not especially." Dooku laughed.
Sören smiled. "Do you care if I go get takeaway and bring it back here?"
"No, I don't mind."
Sören came back with Indian food. They ate curry and chicken tikka in their pajamas in the living room, watching the BBC together. Sören took a call from Frankie afterwards, who was still upset about her ex but trying to keep it together. As Sören was on the phone, Dooku cleaned up a little, collecting the trash and putting it outside for the garbage collector. Then he was greeted at the door by Sören, with a kiss.
They made their way to the shower, lazily and sensually soaping each other, kissing and holding each other under the running water. Naked, they walked back to the bed together, and cuddled, necking until they were both dripping precum. Dooku and Sören were both too exhausted to fuck again, so Sören remedied their need by taking them both in his hand. Dooku covered Sören's hand with his, and they kissed as Sören stroked them to one last climax, the two of them coming at the same time, coming harder at the sight of their cocks coming together, cock coming on cock, making a mess all over them. They kissed through the endless pulse of their orgasm, and then just held each other, content.
Dooku set his alarm to go back to work tomorrow, and fed Dragos, and climbed back in bed. Sören snuggled against him, making little cozy noises. Dooku sighed, his arms tightening around the younger man.
After a little while he said, "Sören."
There was silence, and Dooku wondered if Sören was asleep yet, but he got back a "Hm?"
"Thank you." Dooku smiled. "This has been the best day of my life."
Sören looked up, flashed that brilliant smile that Dooku loved so much, and gave him a soft, sweet kiss. "There'll be many more where that came from."
chapter 18 | return to Northern Lights | return to Other Tolkien Fic | return to index