"I came to see you," Dooku said.
Sören's nostrils flared again and he let out a derisive snort. "Oh, really. Did you now."
"I did." Dooku nodded. "I need to talk to you about some things."
"We have nothing to talk about, Nico."
"We have everything to talk about."
Sören slammed another plastic jar of paintbrushes into his supply cart. "What was it you said to me when you broke up with me. 'Irreconcilable differences', já? You told me that shiny new feeling had worn off. It sounded, it felt, like you'd used me to have this new, novel, fun experience, and when you got bored, you kicked me to the curb. So why are you back here? Did you move onto another boy toy to have fun with and now you're bored with them and you come here thinking you got it like that and I'll just drop trou if you snap your fingers?"
"Sören..." Dooku took a deep breath. "Can we go somewhere to talk?"
"No," Sören said. "This is a very private, personal conversation - especially for someone who was so fucking bloody afraid of coming out - and right now, there's nobody here but us. So we can have it right here, or not at all."
"I see you've finally conceded we don't have 'nothing' to talk about."
"Fuck you."
Dooku had to fight the urge to reply with "Yes, please."
Sören pulled out a folding steel chair and sat down. He used the Force to pull out one for Dooku, and Dooku gingerly walked into the classroom and sat down at the table across from Sören.
"Here," Sören said. "If you're gonna waste my bloody time, make yourself fucking useful." He used the Force to push down a grey bin that was a quarter-full with paint tubes. He gestured to assorted paint tubes strewn across the table. "I need these sorted by color. Doesn't have to be a strict order but shades of red in one compartment, shades of blue in another, etcetera."
Dooku nodded, slid the tubes down the table with the Force, and began loading the tubes into different compartments based on color with just the Force.
"I don't know where or how to begin," Dooku said.
"Well, you need to begin somewhere." Sören raised an eyebrow, still glowering. "How did you even know I was here?"
"I asked Frankie."
"You were brave enough to go see Frankie?" Sören cackled. "How did that go? Or how hard did she hit you, I might ask?"
Dooku gave a small smile. "She punched me in the gut. It's still a bit tender, to be honest."
"She's got a mean right hook."
"Yes, she does. But she also has a good heart." Dooku sighed. "She told me that you'd had... a rough time after the breakup, enough that it scared her, and apparently scared Margrét enough that she said to put you on a plane at her expense."
Sören nodded. "I wasn't eating, I wasn't sleeping much, but I was in bed crying all the time. I was a fucking wreck."
Dooku waited, and Sören went on. "I stayed with Margrét in her flat above the bar for about a month. When she was in London for her lawsuit, I stayed with Ari those few days. When she won her lawsuit, she gave me some money to start this place up, and Ari told me I could just have the cabin in Svalbarðseyri instead of renting a flat in Akureyri, in case this place didn't do well... but so far it has been. A lot of people in town come here, a lot of Icelanders appreciate art, and we even have a poetry slam once a month."
"So this place has only been running for a little less than two months."
Sören nodded. "It feels like longer than that. It also feels like I was staying with my sister for longer than a month because that was hell month. She had to force me to eat and she eventually threatened to have me committed if I didn't try to pull myself together. So I decided to just throw myself into getting my dream off the ground. I'd lost my dream guy, but at least I could have this dream."
Dooku felt like he was stabbed in the heart, in both a good and a bad way, at hearing Sören refer to him as his "dream guy". His breath caught. He cleared his throat nervously.
Sören frowned at Dooku. "So. That's my story. What's yours?"
"I fell apart after you left," Dooku said. "It was a similar experience. I worked, I came home. I shut people out. I didn't eat much, and when I did, I didn't eat well. I cried a lot."
"I'm surprised," Sören said, "considering how cold you were about just pushing me away."
"That's why I'm here," Dooku said. "I'm going to assume you know, now, what happened back in England, that Kylo stabbed Hans."
Sören nodded. "Margrét was debating whether or not to fly to England. I heard from Dagnýr that Hans pulled through though he's gonna need a colostomy bag and he's not doing well emotionally, as one would imagine after almost being murdered by their own son."
"Leja told me that it was important to let someone know if I loved them," Dooku said, "because Hans and Leja had a fight the morning of the day he got stabbed, and he could have died with that hanging in the air and Leja having regrets for the rest of her life. So I came all this way to tell you that I love you."
Sören looked down.
"I still love you. I've never stopped loving you." Dooku's voice was husky with emotion, and he was on the verge of tears. "And I'm very, very sorry for the pain I caused you."
"Já, well... it was that pain you caused me, and the way you caused it, that makes me doubt your words right now."
"There's something you don't know about why I did what I did." Dooku put the last tube in the bin, and then leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face, trying to pull himself together and not completely fall apart, so he could say what needed to be said. "I lied about why I was breaking up with you. It wasn't irreconcilable differences at all."
Sören gave Dooku a withering look.
Dooku continued, "When I let you into my life, when you moved into my home, yes, things were shiny and new and I was giddy with the rush of finally loving someone and being loved, for the first time in my life. I felt alive, for the first time. It was a wonderful experience. Enough that I wasn't really thinking, I was just... feeling, and being. And then in January, when I got sick. That was when I started thinking. And it was very dark, morbid thoughts. Wondering what it would be like as I got even older than I am now and inevitably started to decline. I already felt guilt about you taking care of me, and me unable to take care of certain needs you have, for just a few days. Never mind the last years of my life, where I had frightening mental images of myself bedridden, unable to make love, unable to function much at all, and you being stuck with me. And I remembered how you'd told me you'd had a nervous breakdown when you were in medical school, triggered by watching patients suffer and die. I didn't want you to go through that again. And because I'd made a remark about being too old and you'd said I wasn't too old at all, I felt like if I tried to bring up any of these concerns to you, you'd just argue with me and I wouldn't have the strength to do what I thought - erroneously - needed to be done. I felt like I needed to spare you. So I made a cold, clinical break. I wanted you to hate me, thinking you'd be able to get on with your life, and you'd be better off in the long run." Dooku's voice lowered to a near-whisper, no longer able to fight back the tears. He closed his eyes in pain. "But you suffered. You came close to the edge. I broke you, when I was trying to do the opposite of that. And I broke too. You don't know how much."
When he opened his eyes, he saw that Sören was crying too. And that made him stop shedding quiet tears and he let go, weeping, sobbing, all pretense of dignity gone.
Sören used the Force to bring over a box of tissues. They both took from the box.
"I took a risk coming here," Dooku said. "It's obvious that you've done very well for yourself here - made more impressive by virtue of you being in a severe depression just a couple of months ago. I knew if I came here there was a chance you could have found someone else. Or even if not, that you just wouldn't want me, and I couldn't entirely blame you, after what I've done. Because what I'd done was wrong. I should have opened up to you about my fears and had a conversation with you about our future, rather than just assuming I knew what was best. I tried to spare you pain, and I caused the very thing I was trying to avoid. I came here because I love you, and I would give anything to be with you again. But I also know that you are within your rights, after what I'd done, to say no. Even if you do decide against us rekindling our relationship, I still thought it was important you know the truth."
Sören blinked slowly. He didn't answer Dooku right away, and when he did, it wasn't quite an answer to what Dooku had said. "You want to have dinner?"
"I would, yes. I'm staying at Hotel Akureyri and their food is quite good -"
Sören shook his head. "Normally I wouldn't turn down the offer to eat with you there but I have some food at home I need to cook, and there's enough for two people, I was just gonna have leftovers tomorrow with the excess. So if you want to come back with me to the cabin, we can eat and discuss this further."
"All right." Dooku nodded. "I'll follow you there in my rental?"
"Works for me."
_
Dooku's car followed behind Sören's jeep. Dooku pulled in behind Sören, and they got out of their vehicles at the same time. Dooku followed Sören to the door, and after Sören unlocked and opened it, he took Dooku's hand and pulled him inside.
They only got inside the front door when Sören slammed Dooku against the wall and kissed him hard. Dooku shivered - he'd been pent-up for months, and his cock immediately leapt to attention. Sören's fingers were at his belt, loosening it, and then unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers, yanking them down. Dooku reached to do the same for Sören's jeans. Jeans, trousers, and boxer-briefs pooled to the floor.
"I don't have any condoms," Sören rasped between kisses.
"There's been no one else," Dooku whispered.
"I haven't been with anyone else either." Sören kissed him again. He smirked. "Just my hand. And toys."
Dooku shivered again, thinking about the times he'd seen Sören stroke himself, or the video where Sören fucked a dildo.
Sören started kissing his neck, his jaw, and whispered into his ear, "Thinking about you every. Single. Time. Aching for you." He licked the ridge of Dooku's ear.
That was enough. Dooku picked Sören up off the floor, and now it was his turn to slam Sören against the wall. Dooku heard the sound of a drawer opening, presumably from the nightstand, and watched as Sören used the Force to bring over a bottle of lube. Sören used the Force to pour it over Dooku's cock, since he had his arms wrapped around him. Once Dooku's cock was slicked up, he maneuvered his hips, guiding the tip of his cock to Sören's channel, and then pushing in, slowly.
It was obvious that even with toys, Sören still hadn't taken a real cock in months. Sören was tighter than Dooku remembered - deliciously tight. It took Dooku every ounce of strength he had to not climax immediately, feeling the vise-like heat of Sören opening to him. The way Sören panted and gasped as Dooku pushed inside and then let out a "yesssss" once Dooku was all the way in.
They kissed, and Dooku began to thrust. He took Sören hard and fast, not able to help himself. Sören grabbed onto Dooku for dear life; Dooku's hands supported Sören's hips and ass and Sören bounced on his cock, giving back as good as he was getting, in heat for it. The sight of Sören's hole swallowing his cock over and over again, the sight of Sören's cock fully erect and dripping precum, the sight of Sören's face in ecstasy and passion, the sounds Sören made as Dooku slammed into him, all turned Dooku into a beast, growling as he gave in to all the needs of his body, all of the lust and the love that came flooding out of him, wanting nothing else than this, to have and to hold and to fuck.
He kissed, licked and nibbled Sören's neck, until Sören claimed his mouth again, and they moaned together into the kiss. Dooku badly needed to come, and he knew Sören did as well, but he just couldn't get enough of the way Sören felt wrapped around him, the way they both surrendered so completely, where nothing else mattered. He drove into Sören as if his life depended on it, pounding and pounding, as Sören yelped, "Oh shit, oh god, fuck me, fuck me Nico, fuck me fuck me fuckmefuckmefuckme yesyesyessssss god please don't stop don'tyoufuckingstop..."
At last their eyes met, and it was the look of love in Sören's eyes, their noses nuzzling together, breathing each other's breath, that pushed Dooku over the edge. He gasped out, "I can't hold back."
Sören responded by coming, screaming out "Nico, Nico, Nico oh god Nico," as he spurted all over Dooku's shirt. With one last violent thrust, Dooku came hard, his entire body shaking as he spent into Sören, gasping for breath.
"I love you," Dooku panted.
Sören kissed him hard, then a soft, sweet, lingering kiss, the two of them both moaning "mmmmm" into the kiss as the throbbing waves of orgasm took them into bliss, into that place of light where they were, momentarily, one with each other and the Force itself.
Dooku put Sören back down on the floor. They were still breathing hard, and Sören was still trembling.
"I've missed that so much," Dooku husked. "I've missed you so much."
Sören peeled off his T-shirt, dropping it into the pile with the rest of his clothes, and then Sören began to march Dooku backwards towards the bed, kissing him. When Sören pushed Dooku onto the bed, Dooku removed his cape and his tunic, flinging them carelessly on the floor, and then Sören climbed over him with a growl.
Sören straddled his hips and took his cock again, riding him. Dooku leaned back against the pillows so he was neither completely sitting up nor laying down. He wrapped his arms around Sören and shuddered as Sören's hands roamed over his chest, fingers playing with his chest hair, teasing his nipples.
It was when Sören's hands moved up to touch his face, tracing every outline, every wrinkle, and Dooku saw the love in those dark eyes, that the tears came, flowing silently. He took Sören's hands and kissed them, and pressed his hands to Sören's heart. He couldn't make words to express how he felt, but there was no need for words. They were feeling something beyond words... something deeper than love.
Sören slowed down, riding him more slowly. They held each other, rocking together in time to each slow thrust of Sören's hips. Dooku's face was in Sören's shoulder, weeping, and then Sören kissed his tears. And then, smiling, playfully began to lick the tears from his face, like a puppy. Dooku couldn't help but laugh a little at this, and Sören laughed too, and then they stopped laughing when Sören rubbed his tongue against Dooku's before kissing him deep and hungry.
They continued to take it slow, savoring, needing to just feel each other, making up for lost time. Dooku rained kisses over Sören's face, then trailed kisses down Sören's neck. He kissed Sören's chest over his heart, and Sören pet him, letting out a little sob of emotional release. And then he kissed Sören's nipple, and Sören started riding him hard, even harder than the way they'd fucked against the wall. Dooku grabbed onto Sören's hips and matched his rhythm, groaning and growling as the bed rocked against the wall and his balls slapped Sören's ass. Soon his hand was also slapping Sören's ass, the way he'd seen Margrét do to Frankie. Sören loved it, nails raking over Dooku's chest, howling, begging "Yes, more." He spanked Sören again and again.
"Who does this belong to?" he growled, making Sören look him in the eye.
"You," Sören panted.
"That's right. You're mine."
Sören climaxed, shooting more cum than Dooku had ever witnessed, spraying not just all over Dooku's chest and stomach and face, but the headboard, the wall. With a shout Dooku erupted deep into Sören, so turned on by the sight and feel of Sören coming - and that delicious feeling of having claimed him, conquered him - that he had the most intense orgasm of his life to date, flooding Sören so much that he could feel the cum dripping out of Sören's ass over his balls, and that just made it even hotter for both of them.
Sören collapsed onto him, breathing hard, laughing with the sheer euphoria of his relief. "Holy fuck," was all he could say.
"Indeed." Dooku kissed Sören's forehead. "Sacred fuck."
They nuzzled and kissed, and then lay side by side, face to face, holding each other, rocking each other.
There was a "mrowr?" and the feeling of extra weight on the bed. Dooku looked and saw the black-and-white, pink-nosed, chartreuse-eyed tuxedo cat that he'd seen in the cabin window yesterday, walking towards them.
"Why hello there," Dooku said in a somewhat singsong babytalk voice.
The cat headbutted Sören, and then came over to sniff Dooku, and decided to climb over them and settle on the pillow between them, receiving pettings from both of them.
"This is Snúdur," Sören said. He skritched Snúdur's chin, and the cat gave a deep, rumbly purr, kneading the pillow. Sören smiled. "How's Dragos?"
Dooku sighed. He shook his head. "Dragos went into renal failure in March and had to be put down."
"Nico. I'm so sorry." Sören's eyes filled with tears - he had loved that cat too.
Dooku broke down crying, and Sören cried with him. They held each other, sobbing together, until Snúdur let out an urgent "MOW" and began to bat Dooku's face. Then Snúdur started licking Sören's tears, making Sören laugh and cry some more.
"It was part of why March was so difficult, besides you being gone."
"I wish I'd been there, both to say goodbye to him and to help you through it."
Dooku nodded and squeezed Sören's shoulder. "Well, there's more to the story. After you were gone, and then I lost Dragos, I couldn't sleep in the bedroom. I felt like the house was suffocating me. So I sold it. I got a very nice sum of money from the sale."
"You... uh..." Sören frowned. "What about the meditation room?"
"I considered keeping it the way it was, but I went with repainting, simply because I didn't want all the Force energy to..." His voice trailed off, and Sören just nodded, understanding.
"So where do you live now?"
"West End."
"How very posh of you."
Dooku laughed. "You know, when I moved there, I knew if I ever told you about it, that's exactly what you'd say."
Sören smiled.
"I live in a flat," Dooku said, "and it's not nearly as posh as you might expect. I'm within walking distance of several stores and restaurants, including a supermarket. It's a very small apartment, one bedroom, one living room and kitchen combined area, one bathroom. It's about the size of this cabin, actually. I sold most of my furniture, and a decent portion of my book collection." Dooku pursed his lips. "Like this cabin, it's potentially big enough for two people. I came here on a one-way flight, to return to London at my leisure. I'd be happy to pay for you to come back with me."
"Nico," Sören said, looking serious. "I love you, and yes, I would like to be with you again. But I'm... not... going back to London with you."
Dooku raised his eyebrows.
Sören nodded. "It's like this. I can forgive you for what you did back in February, now that I understand your logic, fucked up as it was. But I can't forget it. I've rebuilt my life, here. I run the art studio where I have classes for paying members, and community events. I like living in this cabin. I was always homesick for Iceland when I lived in the UK, and being back home has done me a lot of good. I didn't realize how much I'd missed it till I'd been back for awhile. There was a time when I would have lived with you anywhere, but after what you did in February, that's changed, and if we're going to be back together you need to understand that I'm not going to take a risk and uproot the life I have here on the odd chance that you once again have regrets in six months."
"I... wouldn't." Dooku stroked Sören's face. "I don't want to lose you, ever again."
"OK. But even with that promise, there is the other matter to consider - as you said yourself, you are worried about our age difference and the matter of you getting older. I will tell you what I would have told you back in February if you'd asked - I actually had been thinking about all those things myself. Life expectancy isn't what it used to be, and sixty-nine isn't the end of life that so many people think of it as being. Here in Iceland, we have one of the highest life expectancies in the world. Apparently all that fermented shark and Brennivín is a fucking preservative, who knew."
Dooku couldn't help but smile; he'd missed Sören's sense of humor.
Sören went on. "And medical technology is advancing all the time. So there's a chance you could have another twenty, even thirty, good years. You're certainly in the kind of health at your age that suggests that will be the case. And if you're not? If we only have two years? Six months? I'd rather be with you till the end, than not have you at all. Whatever time I can get with you, is worth it to me. And that's in sickness and in health. Even if at the end, you can't take care of yourself - I still want to be there for you, taking care of you as I can. Don't think of it as condemning me to suffer because you're suffering. I would suffer if you shut me out and didn't let me in your life. The other thing is, just because I'm younger, doesn't mean I won't go first. I could get in an accident, I could suddenly get cancer, any number of things. We simply don't know what the future holds for us, and pretending like we do absolutely know, when we know nothing, is where the problems come in."
Dooku nodded, too overcome by emotion to speak.
"But, operating on the assumption that yes, you are older and more likely to go first, whenever your time comes, even if it will be decades from now - I have nobody in London except you, Frankie, and maybe Leja and Hans as extended family. My sister and my cousin are here, and Akureyri is a small enough town where you get to know people and we look out for each other, here. And in London, I was working as a barista. I like the job I have here, I like that I can do art on my terms and have the occasional piece bought directly without resorting to a middleman or being dependent on patrons who decide I'm the worst person ever if something happens out of my control like theft. I like feeling like I'm making a difference in people's lives, bringing people happiness, something I didn't really get to do back in the UK. I don't want to be in the UK, trying to figure out how to start my life all over again when the time comes. I've already started my life over again here. I love you and want to be with you, but I have to look out for myself, first."
"All right," Dooku said.
"But," Sören said, "long-distance relationships can be tricky to maintain, so I've been told. It would be a lot of travel. Posh as you are, I don't know how you'd be able to afford to visit me every few months."
Dooku found himself making a decision even more impulsive than the decision he made to fly to Iceland to see Sören. "How would you feel about sharing this cabin with me?"
"You mean..." Sören's eyes widened with shock. "But Nico. Your job."
"I'll retire and cash out my pension," Dooku said, "and figure out what I want to do with myself here."
"It probably won't be law," Sören said. "There's already one lawyer for every 300 people in this country, which is a lot."
"You've taught me many things," Dooku said, "and one of them is that you can teach an old dog new tricks. I got into my line of work because I had a passion for justice, and thought what I was doing was helping others. But maybe there are other things I can do to make a difference in the world."
"You start just by being the change you wish to see in the world," Sören said. "It's hardly promoting justice if you're constantly stressed and burned out and miserable."
Dooku kissed Sören, proud of the little nuggets of wisdom the younger man shared from time to time. "I already feel much better," he husked. "When I lost you, it was like the spark went out from my life, the color faded from my world." He gestured to the window, where daylight was still coming in, dust motes dancing on the rays of sun. "It seems fitting I came back to you during the time of the midnight sun, because you are my sunshine. In the depths of my life's winter, you are my invincible summer."
Sören kissed him hard, tearing up at his words, deeply touched.
"You talk too much," Sören teased him. "We need to find other things to do with that beautiful mouth of yours."
Dooku snickered. "You're insatiable."
Sören got off the bed. "Right now I'm insatiable for food, you goddamn pervert. I did invite you over here for dinner. That wasn't a euphemism."
Dooku laughed out loud, sitting up in the bed.
Sören cooked - naked - and then they ate in bed, naked, fried fish and potatoes. They took turns feeding each other from their fingers. Snúdur sulked until Sören gave him a couple of cat treats from a pouch.
Sören flomped down next to Dooku. "I don't have a big TV or anything but I have a little DVD player and some DVDs if you want to watch shows or movies."
"I should actually check out of the hotel," Dooku said, "and bring my things over here." He smiled at Sören. "Would you like to come with me?"
"All right."
They got dressed, and Sören followed Dooku in his jeep. Dooku checked out of the hotel, and then returned the rental car, putting his luggage in Sören's jeep. They rode back into Svalbarðseyri in companionable silence, Dooku resting his head on Sören's shoulder.
When they got back in the cabin, Dooku sighed. "I have... a lot of phone calls to make. And though I won't be going back to London immediately, I do need to go back for at least a week to handle the business of retiring from my job, ending the rental agreement on my flat, shipping over what I can of my items and deciding what to do with what won't fit here..."
"Jæja, I understand all of that," Sören said. "Stay here for a few days and we can... get caught up... and then you can go back and deal with what you need to deal with before you come back here. And honestly, I want you to think about it while you're over there. What feels like a good idea to you right now because emotions are running high... may not feel like such a good idea once you sit with your to-do list and you realize you're making a very big life adjustment - even bigger than when I moved in with you. You're moving to an entirely different country, with a different culture. If you get cold feet while you're back in England and you decide to not go through with it, we can do the long-distance thing, I guess."
Dooku nodded. "I don't think I'll change my mind."
"OK, we'll see." Sören nodded. He smiled and stroked Dooku's face and whiskers, kissed the tip of his nose. "I hope you don't. I'm so glad you've come back to me."
Dooku kissed Sören, and guided Sören's hand to the bulge in his trousers. "Let me show you how much I've missed you, darling."
"Mmmmmm." Sören kissed him again, and began to undo his trousers once more. "We can show each other all night long."
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