On the day of Dooku's sixty-ninth birthday, he elected to take a half-day. He would have taken the day completely off, but his chamber insisted on throwing him a small office party, complete with a cake, and a box of various pastries to take home. The birthday celebration was combined with the office Christmas party, so he also got a box of cookies.
Sören was at home, presumably making last-minute preparations, and waiting for Dooku to pick him up so they could go to lunch - Qui had gotten reservations at a Mexican restaurant in London, and in addition to Obi and Sören, had invited Leja, Hans, and even Frankie, and insisted on paying for everyone. But before Dooku stopped home to collect Sören, he went to his physician's office, for the physical he got every year on his birthday.
He hadn't eaten at the party, since he was having fasting blood sugar taken among other bloodwork. He also hadn't had his usual morning tea for the same reason, and was feeling mildly irritable when he arrived at the doctor's office. Nonetheless, he tried to be polite to the physician and his assistants, even when he had to wait what seemed like an unreasonable amount of time to hear his test results.
But finally, his physician came into the exam room, with an envelope containing printouts of the tests. "You've got a clean bill of health," Dr. Kingsley proclaimed.
"Good." Dooku hadn't expected otherwise, necessarily, but it was still a relief just the same.
"It's quite remarkable, aging has been quite kind to you."
"I try to take care of myself."
"Whatever you're doing, keep it up." Then the doctor's voice dropped. "Speaking of keeping it up, you'd mentioned that you're sexually active now. Are you having any... problems? Do you need Viagra?"
Dooku snorted. "No, I don't, but thank you for offering." His face burned and he felt like he could die of embarrassment.
"You're very sure? Erectile dysfunction is very common among men your age, there's nothing to be ashamed of if it's happening, it's easily remedied..."
"I'm quite sure." Dooku nodded and couldn't make it out of the exam room fast enough. "Have a pleasant day, Doctor Kingsley," he said over his shoulder, not wanting to be rude. He gave a curt nod to the secretary in the lobby, and as soon as he stepped into the elevator he said "oh god" under his breath, mortified.
It wasn't simply that his doctor had brought up something so personal - even though Dooku understood sexual activity was a part of health and his doctor was obliged to ask; he'd been in the mood for sex when his alarm went off, and Sören teased that he'd never let him out of the bed, promising sex later and saying it would be very special and worth the wait. Dooku wasn't just hungry for food, he was hungry for his bondmate, and didn't need the reminder of sex right then.
Of course, Dooku had to hit traffic, which would make them late for the lunch reservation, and of course his mind wandered as he sat there, tormenting him with everything he wanted to do to Sören and have Sören do to him.
By the time Dooku arrived at his home in Bermondsey he was actually swearing under his breath, feeling like he wanted to stab something. And when Sören greeted him at the door with a kiss, that sweet, radiant smile made it all better.
Sören was already ready to go, looking delectable in the same outfit he'd worn the day he and Dooku first met - a ruffly black shirt reminiscent of poets or pirates, a pair of black leather pants, and his usual Doc Martens boots. He was wearing a slight touch of mascara and eyeliner, just enough to accentuate his pretty dark eyes. Some of his nape-length hair was pulled back into a short ponytail, with the rest down, and it had tamed his curls somewhat. Two small silver hoops gleamed in each ear, matching the silver chain he wore, and the silver sparkles in his black nail polish. Dooku smiled a little, remembering how Sören's painted nails had initially aggravated him, and now he found it endearing and even a little sexy. Sören looked like a rock star, and Dooku definitely wanted to be his groupie.
As it was late December, snowy and cold, Dooku helped Sören put on a trenchcoat. Though they were running late, Dooku couldn't resist giving Dragos a few last pettings.
The commute to London in more afternoon traffic was annoying enough that Dooku had Sören call Qui to explain their lateness. Qui, Obi, Leja, Hans and Frankie were all there already, and thankfully they understood or were at least too polite to give up and go home. Finally they got there, almost twenty minutes late.
Dooku had insisted on no presents - he didn't want anyone spending money on him, especially not Sören. Nonetheless, Qui had a gift, of sorts.
There was a large ceramic bowl - Leja herself had made it, and it was glazed to look like the colors of a sunset. The bowl was filled with sand and some pebbles.
"You got me sand," Dooku said, dryly.
Qui gestured. "Look more closely."
One of the rocks was shaped like buttocks. The look on Dooku's face made everyone at the table laugh but Dooku.
"What. Is. That."
"It's a lithops," Qui said, smiling. "It's a succulent, so you want to keep it in sun, keep it warm, and don't water it often."
"That's not a rock? It's a plant?"
"What did I just say?"
Dooku glared at Qui, who glared back, and then grinned.
"Well," Dooku said, "it's hard to tell, since it looks like... a rock."
"And a butt," Sören said.
"It is indeed a plant. It will eventually flower given time." Qui pulled out his cell phone and showed them pictures of flowering lithops.
"I like it," Sören said. "We have a cat, we should have a plant."
Hearing Sören say "we" made Dooku's heart race and his stomach flutter. He squeezed Sören's hand under the table, and Sören squeezed back.
"Yes, indeed," Qui said. "Celebrate your life together. And I can think of no better way to do that than with a plant shaped like -"
Dooku almost choked on his drink. "Dear god."
The waiter came over after that to take everyone's order. The group got quesadilla appetizers and Dooku ordered enchiladas that came with a side of rice and beans; Sören ordered a combination platter of chicken tacos and burritos. The waiter left them with baskets of freshly-baked tortilla chips and just-made salsa.
The service was fast and they got their meals in no time. Dooku was grateful to finally eat, and just listened as Hans talked about his recent travels, including running into Kylo in Berlin, a visit that didn't go so well.
"He wanted me to hire him a lawyer," Hans said.
Dooku finally had to say something about that. "He's a rock star signed to a major label and he wanted you to pay for his legal help? Really."
Hans nodded solemnly.
"He's always been a bit of a spoiled, entitled brat with a chip on his shoulder, but that is something else," Dooku said.
"You've met Margrét, now," Leja said, "so you know why Kylo's being sued." And you know why this is such a sore subject for me, now, she added in the Force.
"I have no sympathy for him," Dooku said. "I've heard that Margrét has proof of what's hers, documented in e-mails, videos, and the like." And I heard Kylo made some inappropriate remarks to her, like a snotty little shit.
"Good." Leja nodded, with her lips pursed. "Since he's technically a UK citizen still I have had concerns he might come to you for help as an old friend of the family -"
"Margrét is family now too," Dooku said.
The look of elation on Sören's face took Dooku's breath away, and he couldn't help smiling into his next bite of food.
Leja smiled, as well.
Hans coughed, flushing slightly. "That she is."
Dooku almost choked on his food - he knew Leja and Margrét were involved, but hadn't realized that Hans was also involved somehow. He raised his eyebrow, and then a glass of wine. Hans gave a guilty grin and raised his glass as well.
"I keep hearing about this sister of yours," Frankie said to Sören, "and I really want to meet her."
"Well, you'll get your chance very soon. She's flying in, in two days." Sören smirked. "I've told her about you too, and she's curious to meet you."
"I think the two of you would get it on very well," Leja said. Then she realized her slip, cleared her throat, and said, "Get on, I mean," before chugging on wine.
Sören let the remark go without making innuendo, and simply took out his phone and began showing Frankie some of the pictures from Iceland that he hadn't gotten a chance to show her yet, including and especially the scenes from Katrín's funeral, with Margrét sitting on the roof of an SUV smoking a joint, middle fingers in the air, and Margrét pissing on Katrín's grave.
"I already like her," Frankie said, laughing.
"Good," Leja said. "She's very likable, and I think it would be good for her to make... a friend."
Frankie gave Leja a quizzical look, and Leja threw a save. "She was very close to my son Kylo, and they had a bit of a falling out and since then she's kind of withdrawn socially, and that's not healthy for her."
"No," Dooku said. "I can attest to that myself."
Qui patted and squeezed Dooku's shoulder. "It's good to see you coming out of your shell again."
Dooku smiled at Sören, who beamed back. "I've had some help."
The waiter came back to inquire on how everything was, and if anyone wanted dessert. Dooku decided he would have flan, and after he ordered his flan, Qui cleared his throat loudly and pointed to Dooku, telling the waiter, "It's his birthday."
"I see, señor." The waiter nodded, grinning. "It's on the house, then."
The grin that Qui-Gon had informed Dooku that Qui was happy about something other than getting a few dollars off the impending bill for one less dessert to pay. His suspicion was confirmed correct when a few minutes later, the waiter returned with a tray of desserts - including Dooku's flan, set with a lit candle...
...and the waiter was followed by a group of other restaurant staff. Waitresses and waiters put a sombrero on everyone's head - Dooku and Sören matched in large, garish green sombreros - and then a mariachi band came forward, with the dramatic strum of a flamenco guitar as they approached the table.
The singer of the mariachi band, an older man perhaps Dooku's age, began to sing
Feliz cumpleaños a ti
Feliz cumpleaños a ti
Feliz cumpleaños querido Dooku
Feliz cumpleaños a ti.
Then the singer yelled "¡Olé!" and the band played it again, faster this time, as more waitstaff brought out a giant green-and-pink papier-mache llama, which was hoisted up on strings, dangling from supports on the ceiling. The singer handed Dooku a baton as he was singing, and Dooku looked at the baton and the rest of the group, feeling extremely awkward.
"Go on, hit it," Qui encouraged.
Dooku glared at him just before he was blindfolded - Dooku heard Sören say "Ooh, kinky" which got Leja laughing hysterically - and then the band and waitstaff stood back as Dooku walked to the center of the dining hall. Dooku felt utterly ridiculous, but he decided to humor Qui and Sören and gave a fencing salute with the baton before using the Force to find the piñata and, without the Force, take a swing. He heard the piñata crack, and the sound of a lot of small things dropping to the floor. When he removed the blindfold he saw wrapped candy everywhere.
Sören snapped a few photos of him before coming over with a basket to collect candy, excited like a big kid, and Sören's happiness made the ridiculousness of it all worth it. Though Dooku still glared when Sören took a selfie of them together wearing the sombreros, and again once they were seated back at the table and Sören snapped more sombrero-clad candids of the group.
Their waiter informed them they could take the sombreros home, and Sören and Qui wore theirs out of the restaurant on the way to the car. Obi finally snatched the sombrero off Qui's head - "you need to see to drive," he said, though everyone knew it wasn't because of that, and was because Obi couldn't take him seriously with that on. Sören couldn't fit in the Jaguar without knocking his sombrero off, so he carried it into the car - Dooku breathed a sigh of relief, and then made a noise once they were on the road and Sören put it back on his head.
"You know..." Dooku started.
Sören cut him off with a grin. "Yes, I know."
_
Dooku's first order of business when he got in was to find a safe space for the bowl with his new lithops plant - somewhere that would get enough sunlight, and where it could be seen but Dragos couldn't disturb it. His temporary solution was to bring over a barstool he never used, set it by the sunniest window in the kitchen, and put the bowl on top of it. Sören looked at it, then raised his index finger, and went down to the linen closet in the hall. He came back with a damask cloth meant for a small end table, which he draped over the stool, and set the bowl back on top. He also had a few geode chunks from his personal belongings that he artfully arranged around the bowl. The cloth and crystals went nicely with the bowl and made everything look more put together.
The basket of candy from the restaurant and boxes of cookies and pastries from Dooku's chamber were set on the table, and Dooku put on tea. Once tea was ready, he brought out the tea service and flopped onto the couch with a sigh.
Sören sat down next to him, and they drank tea together in companionable silence. Then Sören put his cup down once he'd finished and leaned in to Dooku, pressing their foreheads together. "You all right, love?"
Dooku nodded. He closed his eyes and opened them. "I've just had a lot to do today, this is my first chance to really and truly relax."
"Awwwwwww, elskan." Sören pet Dooku's face and whiskers, and kissed the tip of his nose. Then he grabbed one of Dooku's legs. Before Dooku could ask what Sören was doing, he watched Sören lay the leg across his lap, and Sören peeled off the sock. Then Sören began to rub Dooku's foot.
The foot massage felt incredible, and Dooku could feel the Force flowing through Sören's hands, for that little extra touch of tender loving care. The adoring look Sören gave Dooku as he rubbed and kneaded was just as good as the massage itself, and Dooku relaxed, melting to his bondmate.
After awhile Sören put Dooku's leg down and propped up the other one, to give the same treatment to the other foot. Dooku leaned back against the couch, his relaxation deepening, floating away.
At last Sören pulled him close, and with Dooku's back against Sören's chest, Sören reached to rub his shoulders and neck. Dooku heard himself moan as the tension flooded out of him.
"So, love?" Sören asked.
"Hm?"
"How did your physical go?"
That snapped Dooku back to attention. "Oh." His brain struggled for a moment to find words, after being putty in Sören's hands. "It went well. Clean bill of health, as I receive every year."
"That's good." Sören nuzzled him. "You're in such good shape, I would have been surprised otherwise."
Dooku reached up and patted Sören's hand. "I try to take care of myself." The same thing he told his doctor earlier. He felt somewhat sheepish about it, and like it was such a remarkable thing that a man his age could be in good condition. "Sixty-nine isn't a death sentence." Isn't it, though? Weren't you feeling your mortality before you met Sören, wondering if you would die alone, in your grief and loneliness?
Sören snickered. Dooku turned his head then to give Sören a look. "What's so funny?"
Sören laughed harder. "You really don't know."
"No, I do not."
"Well, my love, today you are going to learn something new." Sören's lips quirked with amusement. "But first... I have a birthday present for you."
"Oh dear god." Dooku sighed. "I asked you to not spend money on me, dear -"
Sören put a finger to his lips. Then he kissed Dooku, softly and sweetly. As Dooku made a little murmur of protest about the present, Sören pulled away with a wicked grin. "It doesn't involve money," Sören said.
"What does it involve?"
Sören got up from the couch, still grinning. Just before Dooku could get up and follow, Sören raised his palm slightly. "Stay there. I'll be back in a few minutes."
Then from the bedroom, Sören called, "You know, I have a better idea - why don't you slip into something more comfortable and I'll meet you back in the living room?"
"Something more comfortable?" Dooku called back. "Like what?"
"Like your pajamas, maybe."
Dooku got up, and by the time he made it down the hall - moving slowly, still in bliss from Sören's massage - Sören closed the door to the guest bathroom in the hall, presumably up to something. With a chuckle at whatever Sören was up to, Dooku retrieved his pajamas from the bedroom closet and got out of his cape, tunic and trousers. It felt odd to be putting on bedtime apparel when it was still daylight, but he felt a little relief nonetheless - it was time to unwind and enjoy himself.
Sören was still in the bathroom when Dooku was changed. He took his seat on the living room couch and waited.
Dooku made a sound of surprise when he watched Sören's portable Mp3 player and speakers float into the living room, Sören moving them from down the hall with the Force. Dooku watched the small soundsystem assemble on the coffee table, and then Sören called down, "Are you ready?"
"I guess so," Dooku replied.
The Mp3 player turned on. There was the flourish of a Spanish guitar, and a voice called out, "Ay." Then, "¡Fonsi!"
Sören came out in the same leather pants as before, but wearing a black button-down shirt. He swayed as he walked, hips swiveling in time to the music.
¡Oh!
Tú, tú eres el imán y yo soy el metal
Me voy acercando y voy armando el plan
Sólo con pensarlo se acelera el pulso
Ya, ya me está gustando más de lo normal
Todos mis sentidos van pidiendo más
Esto hay que tomarlo sin ningún apuro
Sören was in front of Dooku now, and gave Dooku a smoldering, seductive look just before the beat got harder.
Despacito
Quiero respirar tu cuello despacito
Deja que te diga cosas al oído
Para que te acuerdes si no estás conmigo
Despacito
Quiero desnudarte a besos despacito
Firmo en las paredes de tu laberinto
Y hacer de tu cuerpo todo un manuscrito
(Sube, sube, sube, sube, sube)
Sören was starting to unbutton his shirt now, still keeping time with the music, still working his pelvis suggestively. Dooku ached to touch the exposed flesh, but Sören was just out of reach, teasing him. Sören danced to the next verse with his shirt unbuttoned but still on, and at the next "Despacito", Sören peeled his shirt off and threw it at Dooku.
Sören came closer, shirtless, dancing in Dooku's lap. Sören took Dooku's hands and ran them over his chest, and then guided them to his belt buckle, to the fly and zipper of his leather pants. Then Sören moved back - Dooku almost whined in frustration - and Sören, somehow, managed to continue working his hips and ass to the Latin beat as he slowly worked his leather pants downward. Underneath the leather pants Sören was wearing a silky pair of black boxer-briefs, and was semi-erect. Once the leather pants were off, Sören shimmied back to Dooku, and got in his lap again, dancing, letting Dooku caress him as he danced.
By the end of the song - which wasn't very long at all, just under four minutes - Sören's cock was fully hard, and in Dooku's hand, though his underwear was still on, and Sören was sitting in Dooku's lap. They finished the song with a kiss.
"You've never had a lapdance before," Sören said.
"No." Dooku continued playing with Sören's cock. "I... enjoyed that."
Sören nuzzled him and groped his hard-on. "I can tell."
"So that was my present?" Dooku smiled.
"It was one of your presents," Sören said.
"Oh, dear." Dooku chuckled. "You didn't spend money on me, did you?"
"No," Sören said. "Any other questions, Mister Barrister?"
Dooku gave Sören that look, and Sören stuck out his tongue.
"You said I would learn why the number sixty-nine amuses you... are you going to teach me?" Dooku raised an eyebrow.
"We're getting there. Would you like some cake first?"
"You made me a cake?"
"I sure did." Sören beamed.
"I feel like I'd be overindulging in sweets after the flan, but since you went to the trouble -"
"Oh, for fuck's sake, live a little." Sören walked to the kitchen in his underwear.
Sören came out with a medium-sized frosted red velvet cake. There were two candles on the cake, making the number 69, and beneath them, Sören had drawn a "dickbutt" in red icing. Dooku facepalmed at the sight of it, groaning and laughing at the same time.
"I only put two candles on the cake because it would have been a lot of fucking candles otherwise," Sören said.
"That's fine." Dooku shook his head. "You did... er... more than enough."
Sören used the Force to light the candles on the cake, and then leaned up on Dooku and sang in a breathy voice:
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday... to... you
Happy birthday... I-on Ni-co-lae
Happy birrrrrthdayyyyyy
tooooo yooooooouuuu
It reminded Dooku of Marilyn Monroe singing "Happy Birthday Mr. President", but sillier, and yet, somehow the silliness made it sexier. Dooku blushed, and blew out the candles.
"The cake looks nice," Dooku said, "that wretched drawing notwithstanding."
"I worked very hard on that wretched drawing," Sören said, mock hurt in his voice, attempting a wink at the innuendo of "very hard".
"I'm sure you did."
"So it just looks nice?" Sören smirked. He began cutting a piece of cake.
"It just looks nice, yes." Dooku smirked back. "You look more appetizing."
"You know what?" Sören held a small plate of cake just out of Dooku's reach.
"What?"
"You. Are. A. Pervert." With a wicked grin, Sören used the Force to fling the plate of cake at Dooku, and it went all over him.
Before Dooku could react, Sören took the cake pan and cake knife and ran down the hall with it. "You want some of this, come and get me."
Dooku sat stunned for a moment, and then used the Force to grab a wad of tissues out of the tissue box and pick up the cake mess. He still had frosting on his pajamas. After disposing of the mess, he stormed into the bedroom. And as soon as he set foot in the bedroom, he was greeted with another cake missile.
The covers were off the bed, and Sören was sitting on the bed in his underwear and the pan of cake, with an evil grin. Dooku charged towards the bed. "You little brat," he growled.
Sören gave a yelp. Before he could throw another piece of cake, Dooku was on the bed, and he scooped off the cake bits that clung to him and mashed them in Sören's face.
But before he could take his hand away, Sören licked it, and the feel of Sören's tongue made his aching cock throb. He watched Sören lick cake from his lips - again, making his cock twinge.
"We should get your pajamas in the wash before they're permanently stained," Sören said.
"Yes, we should."
Sören reached out to help Dooku get his pajama top off, and ripped at the silky fabric. The rip left Dooku's chest exposed, and Sören gave him a hungry look, running his hand through the white chest hair. Then Sören did the same with Dooku's pajama bottoms, ripping them.
Dooku was starting to leak precum now. His head was spinning, his mouth suddenly dry. He tried to think of how to respond, but he couldn't think, just lust.
Grinning again, Sören cut another piece of cake from the pan, and mashed it into Dooku's chest, rubbing it all over Dooku's chest and stomach, and then took some of it and mashed it into Dooku's face. Then he shoved Dooku down onto his back and admired his handiwork - Dooku shuddered, not just at the heat in his bondmate's gaze but how utterly debauched he felt, like this - and then Sören began eating cake off of him. Not simply eating the cake, but licking him clean, starting with the mess on his sensitive abs, then licking all over his chest - especially the nipples, deliberately licking and sucking those - but then lapping his face like a dog. It was cute, and it was incredibly stimulating. Dooku shuddered, moaning, and when Sören had finished cleaning him with his tongue, Sören claimed his mouth with a kiss and Dooku heard himself whimper into the kiss, feeling self-conscious at how undignified that was but fuck, he wanted Sören and couldn't help it.
Sören scooped some cake from the pan with his fingers now, and fed Dooku out of his hand, and when Dooku licked and kissed his palm, licked and sucked his fingers clean, Sören skritched his beard and purred, "Mmmmm, yes."
As they kissed again, Dooku reached with the Force to cut a piece of cake from the pan and then he gave Sören a face and torso full of cake, making him absolutely filthy with it. He rolled Sören onto his back and proceeded to give him the same treatment, eating cake off of his naked chest and stomach, making sure to lick his nipples extra clean, tongue grooming his face, especially Sören's beard, knowing Sören's jaw was sensitive.
When Dooku finished cleaning Sören, they kissed and Sören husked, "How was that?"
"Delicious." Dooku smiled. "And the cake was good too."
Sören laughed, and said, "I hope you still have an appetite."
Dooku simply took Sören's hand and wrapped it around his hard, leaking cock. Sören groaned appreciatively and began stroking it, slowly.
Sören kissed him, and when they pulled apart for air, Sören rasped, "I'm pretty hungry myself."
"Are you now."
Their eyes met. Sören stopped stroking Dooku's cock. He got up, took off his boxer-briefs, and then surveyed the mess of Dooku's ruined pajamas with a guilty chuckle. "Uh, I'll replace those."
"They were rather expensive."
"Ah. Shit."
Dooku laughed too. "I can afford another pair." He smirked. "I've never had my clothing ripped off. I enjoyed being manhandled."
"I've been thinking about doing that for awhile." Sören climbed back on the bed. "You don't know how many times I've fantasized about ripping your clothes off and just ravishing you."
Dooku flushed, feeling flattered and flustered all at once again. "You called me a pervert, but that is far filthier than any thoughts I've had." He stroked Sören's face and hair. "I like it."
Sören smiled and said, "Good."
They kissed again, and Sören moved the cake pan - which didn't have much left - to the bedtable. He resumed stroking Dooku's cock and said, "It's time I teach you what sixty-nine means."
"So it's not just a number."
Sören laughed and shook his head. "No, it's not." Then Sören laughed again. When Dooku raised an eyebrow, Sören said, "You mentioned awhile back you're descended from Romanian nobility."
"Yes...?"
Sören laughed and wheezed, "I'm... teaching... the Count... about sixty-nine."
Dooku groaned. "That's bad even for you."
"Yes, yes it is."
Dooku kissed Sören hard and rasped, "I think we should find something more useful to do with that sassy mouth of yours."
Sören grinned. "Well, elskan, it happens that's exactly what sixty-nine is."
Sören pushed Dooku down on his back, and then climbed on top of him, but so his head was between Dooku's legs, and his cock and ass was in Dooku's face. Sören took Dooku's cock into his mouth, and Dooku groaned. He loved sucking Sören's cock and eating his ass, and couldn't resist with it in his face. As he took Sören's cock into his mouth, the realization clicked in his head, that their bodies made the shape of the numbers, with their heads between each other's legs.
Sören felt that realization through their Force bond and patted him, taking the cock out of his mouth. "You got it now?"
"Mmmmmmmm."
Sören laughed and took Dooku's cock back into his mouth.
They sucked each other for a long time, enjoying themselves, savoring the excitement and pleasure of sucking and being sucked. They sucked slowly at first, working their tongues with their mouths full. After awhile Dooku began licking and sucking Sören's balls, which made Sören moan around Dooku's cock. When Sören returned the attention, taking slow, teasing licks at Dooku's balls, Dooku responded by dipping his tongue into Sören's channel, finding the sweet spot with his tongue and letting loose, tongue-fucking him hard. Sören's hips bucked and he let out a howl. Soon Sören was fucking his face, and Dooku grabbed Sören's hips and buried his nose in Sören's crack, devouring him, growling into him. Dooku felt ready to come just from that, and having his balls licked and sucked. Sören grabbed Dooku's hips and rolled him onto his side, and then Sören began rimming him as well, making him crazy with lust and sensation.
Before Dooku could come like that, Sören took Dooku's cock back in his mouth and sucked him harder, faster; one of Sören's hands cupped and rubbed his balls. Dooku continued eating Sören's ass, but he could feel Sören's precum dripping all over his neck, down his chest, and he realized Sören was close and he wanted to taste him. Dooku started sucking Sören again, with Sören making encouraging moans. Sören's other hand now moved to Dooku's opening, and Dooku let out a little cry as he felt two of Sören's fingers push inside him, rubbing the prostate just the way he liked it. The feel of Sören's mouth on his cock as his balls and prostate were being rubbed was exquisite, and Dooku felt his balls tightening, the tension building in his cock, ready to explode. Dooku slipped a finger inside Sören and worked Sören's prostate; Sören started working his hips, losing control. Sören frenziedly fucking his fingers and his mouth made him even more excited, and he groaned around Sören's cock, reaching with his other hand to caress Sören's back and ass, feel every inch of his bondmate's flesh that he could, hungry for all of him.
The tension continued to build until Dooku was shaking from head to toe. When Sören stopped thrusting into his mouth, and whimpered around his cock, Dooku knew what was about to happen, and braced himself. He was still unprepared for how much cum there was, almost making him choke. He swallowed as much of it as he could, greedy for it, and Sören filling his mouth triggered his own release. Sören let out a "mmmmmm" with his mouth still full - still drinking him - and knowing Sören was enjoying his cum as much as he was enjoying Sören's made him shoot again.
Sören licked Dooku's cock clean, giving him little aftershocks of pleasure, and then Sören rested his head on Dooku's stomach, nuzzling the little bit of body hair he had across his abdomen, leading down to his navel. Dooku finally sat up, just to pull Sören up with him, and then lay back down with Sören snuggled into his chest, his arms around the younger man.
"That was incredible," Dooku said after a few moments of contented silence.
"Yes, it was." Sören nuzzled his beard and kissed the tip of his nose. "I was hoping you'd like that."
"Like is an understatement." Dooku stroked Sören's hair and face, and met his eyes. "I loved that." He smiled and gave Sören a soft, lingering kiss. "I love you."
"I love you." Sören smiled back. He nuzzled Dooku's beard again. "I wanted to give you a good birthday even though you told me not to spend money on you." Sören patted Dooku's shoulder. "Speaking of, I have one last present to give you."
"Oh?"
Dooku closed his eyes, still lost in the bliss of afterglow, and he opened them when Sören tapped him. There was the striped red-orange-and-green "Willy Warmer" snake that Sören had bought at the Icelandic Phallological Museum. Sören moved it towards Dooku's cock, and Dooku made a noise of protest before Sören buried his face in Dooku's shoulder, convulsing with silent laughter, putting the Willy Warmer down next to them.
When Sören picked his head up a few minutes later, Dooku was still glaring and Sören laughed so hard he teared up. "Your face."
"You know..."
"I know." Sören wiped his eyes. He sat up, still shaking from laughter. "That's not actually the present."
"You are such a brat."
"You love it." Sören got off the bed, completely naked. "Here, follow me."
Dooku got off the bed, also naked, and followed him across the hall to the meditation room. Dooku had been in the meditation room recently, and always took a look at Sören's easel to admire works in progress, so somehow whatever Sören was doing in here, he'd managed to hide, as a surprise. Sören used the Force to open up a small cabinet near his easel where he kept art supplies, and pulled out a canvas. He propped it up on a second easel he kept for recently finished work.
The first thing that Dooku noticed about the painting was he and Sören were in it, right in the center. They were in a pool of water from the waist down, but obviously naked, embracing and kissing, a glowing energy surrounding them. They were against the backdrop of an aurora and a starry night sky, that led out to space itself, a spiral galaxy surrounding them.
Dooku's breath caught. His arms broke out into gooseflesh, his nape and spine and arms tingling, the hair standing on end. Tears burned his eyes. He remembered that night in the Nature Baths at Lake Mývatn, the way they'd kissed under the aurora, one of the most wondrous experiences of his entire life; the way he and Sören made love later that night, his first time being inside another, one flesh. He knew that it had been special for Sören too, but here, Sören had captured what words could not express, the feeling of touching the Force together, the feeling of the magic he felt with Sören's love in his life... and realizing that Sören felt the same way.
"You like it?" Sören asked, sounding a little nervous.
Dooku couldn't make words. Caught up in the surge of emotion, he threw his arms around Sören and kissed him hard, mirroring the position in the painting. Sören moaned into the kiss, and kissed him back, and Dooku felt Sören hard again, making his own cock jump in response. Suddenly nothing else mattered. They were going down to the floor together, on one of the mats they sat on for meditation. Sören was on his back, their hard cocks rubbing together as they kissed and their hands roamed, groped, needing to touch, needing to feel.
Dooku used the Force to bring over the lube from across the hall, and when Sören saw it his eyes lit up and he nipped Dooku's neck. "Yes, fuck me," Sören growled.
Dooku wasted no time pouring lube over his cock, and into Sören's ass. Sören arched and spread to him, hissing "yes, yes, yes, take me," as Dooku started pushing his way inside. When he was all the way in they both cried out, and then Dooku kissed him again as he began to thrust.
There was none of his usual finesse this time, the slow teasing burn and edging to a shattering release. There was just raw, primal need, the need to mate, the feeling of being in heat for each other, losing control together. Dooku fucked Sören as hard as he could and Sören worked his hips, matched his rhythm, making noises so loud Dooku wondered if the neighbors could hear. It wasn't long before Sören's legs were propped on his shoulders and Dooku couldn't stop moaning himself, Sören felt so good wrapped around him, sweet delicious velvet gripping him, rubbing him, and he was lost in Sören's beauty, Sören's animal passion. Feeling Sören's nails in his back made him even crazier with lust and he found himself nibbling Sören's neck, taking playful love bites at his shoulder, which Sören loved, howling, writhing.
Sören came first, shooting an impressive amount of cum, screaming "Nico, Nico, Nico, I love you, I love you, I fucking love you." Three hard thrusts later Dooku gasped, "Sören." Their eyes met and Dooku started sobbing with the force of his release, so good it almost hurt, throbbing and throbbing and throbbing, breeding deep inside Sören, filling him, with Sören moaning and shaking, spending again at the feeling of Dooku's cum.
They lay there on the floor of the meditation room, spent, breathless. Dooku felt like the room was spinning, then heaving like he was at sea, and then he was just adrift, holding Sören and being held. The spacescape Sören had painted on the meditation room's walls seemed to come to life now, and it felt almost like being cocooned inside the heart of the Force. Dooku found himself crying again, out of joy, euphoria, and Sören kissed his tears, crying with him silently, because as different as they were, at their core Sören knew what was sacred to him, and it was to Sören as well.
It was awhile before they could do anything but lay there. When Dooku pulled out of Sören and they sat up, Sören made a face, and Dooku watched as Sören shifted his position, and looked at where he'd been sitting on the mat. There was now a puddle of cum, and Sören was still leaking.
"Oh my fucking god." Sören's laughter rang out. Then Sören laughed again and said, "I'm gonna queef."
He did. Dooku shook his head, chuckling - only Sören could go from being the sexiest thing alive to being the most ridiculous person he'd ever met, in a matter of seconds, and he loved him for it. He never thought in a million years he'd be laughing at farts, or cum puddles, and here he was, tearing up now with laughter, laughing harder at the absurdity of what his life had become.
Sören went to the bathroom to clean himself up, and Dooku attended to the cum mess in the meditation room, and then the cake mess in the bedroom. It finally occurred to him as he went to the kitchen that he'd been walking around his house naked - strutting, even. He'd never been one for casual nudity, and he'd been doing it more often since he and Sören consummated their relationship - he'd gone from being a prude, self-conscious, to this.
He was laughing to himself once he was back in the bedroom, and when Sören got out he asked, "What's so funny?" Dooku told him.
Sören gave him a mock scandalized face. "We can't have that," Sören said. "We must protect your modesty!" With that, he finally rolled the Willy Warmer onto Dooku's cock.
Dooku laughed even harder, tearing up again, and couldn't stop laughing when Sören took a few casual photos with his cell phone camera. The worst was when Sören got in the picture and threw gang signs over the Willy Warmer-clad cock.
Then they snuggled. And after they'd been snuggling for awhile and Dooku started dozing off, he woke to the sound of Dragos meowing, and then sat up with a start, realizing he'd just been laying there with the Willy Warmer still on. Sören laughed as Dooku took it off, and laughed harder when Dragos carried the Willy Warmer off in his mouth like it was a cat toy.
With Dragos fed, Dooku came out of the kitchen; Sören was lighting up their small Christmas tree. When he was done, Dooku hugged him. "Thank you for such a lovely birthday," Dooku said.
Sören stroked his face and whiskers. "You're lovely." Sören squeezed his hands. "Now to have a lovely Christmas! I'm excited to see my family again."
chapter 19 | return to Northern Lights | return to Other Tolkien Fic | return to index