One of the many things Sören loves about Anthony is his intelligence, and as they walk around the Thomas Jefferson Building of the Library of Congress, Anthony's geekiness really shines. The bookshelves seem to go on forever - Sören's head spins at knowing the Library of Congress holds over 39 million different books and other print materials, and Anthony has read hundreds if not thousands of books over his forty-two years, here and there pointing out historical tomes of interest. It would be impressive on its own, moreso because they're meeting the President at one PM and Sören is a bundle of nerves, not knowing how Anthony can keep all those titles and subjects straight in his mind. Sören can barely string two words together, not just in anxiety with the impending audience with Biden, but in awe of Anthony's brain, which makes him even more attractive.
And Sören does indeed think Anthony looks especially attractive today, dapper in his black suit.
So much so that being around him is like torture, even without the anxiety of meeting the President. Sören has a much harder time than usual making eye contact with Anthony, cheeks burning whenever Anthony looks at him. On the night that Mark proposed to Anthony, Sören heard them having sex - the unmistakable sloppy sound of wet pussies rubbing together, and Mark calling Anthony "Daddy"... Sören's ultimate fantasy. Knowing Anthony is in reality the daddy dom of Sören's darkest desires makes Sören want him even more... aching for what he cannot have. And now this, today, with Anthony in a suit. Mark makes a suit look good too, even though he has an 80s vibe with his long hair. Anthony is timeless elegance personified, and it hurts.
Now they're looking at Thomas Jefferson's own library. "Relics from the eighteenth century," Anthony says in a hushed, reverent voice. "Whatever else you could say about him for good or for ill, I'm glad he saw the importance of preserving these books."
Mark nods solemnly, then his shoulders heave with a deep sigh and he looks away, wincing as if in pain. Anthony quickly takes Mark's hand, and Sören wonders for a moment what that's about - it's as if something hit a nerve. Mark manages a tight smile and then he steps closer to the bookshelves, looking at them with his mouth slightly open.
"There is literally a book in this collection about premature burial, and suggestions on how to avoid it," Mark says. "Being buried alive was quite a widespread fear in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, before the medical knowledge and advancements we have now where we can easily confirm death. Really makes you marvel as to how far we've come."
Sören lets out a low whistle. That thought horrifies him, sending a shiver down his spine.
Mark steps back with a haunted look in his eyes, and once again Sören wonders why Mark looks so consternated, but he doesn't want to pry. Instead he gives Mark a reassuring pat and tries not to notice the way his face flushes hotter, his entire body tingling at just briefly touching Mark. He really is gorgeous, Sören thinks to himself, resisting the urge to touch a lock of silky hair spilling down Mark's shoulders.
They could easily spend all day here, but they have to get moving to arrive with enough time to spare for the security check at the White House. Sören's stomach turns flip-flops all the way there.
When he'd proposed the cross-country road trip, DC was one of the first agreed-upon destinations, but then Anthony - who would have become a civil rights attorney if he hadn't become an archaeology professor - got the idea to request an audience with Joe Biden to discuss LGBT rights, and trans rights in particular. Sören loves Anthony's passion for justice as much as he loves Anthony's intelligence - he couldn't say no - and so Anthony made the arrangements. It still feels surreal to Sören. In Iceland the politicans are regular people, who have coffee out in public and will stop to shake your hand. Here in the States there's much more formality and protocol and it feels like a much bigger deal... especially now that the Supreme Court just overturned Roe v. Wade and the writing is on the wall that the Republicans are coming for the bodily autonomy of trans people. The Supreme Court building is next to the Thomas Jefferson Building of the Library of Congress, and Sören, Anthony and Mark all wave their middle fingers at it on the way past.
Anthony scowls. "Maybe tomorrow we should dress in drag like Handmaids and go protest."
"Maybe we'd get arrested," Mark says with a headtilt and a raised eyebrow. "And it wouldn't change anything."
Anthony sighs and nods. "Yeah. Just..." He looks down at his stomach and then up at the sky. He lowers his voice. "I thought about aborting Rhiannon, because of the dysphoria. I didn't, and I'm not sorry I had her, but it would have sucked not to have that option at all. And I worry about Rhi moving here to the States and not being able to take care of it if an accident happens..." His voice trails off and he blinks back tears.
Sören gives him a hug. While Sören hasn't had intercourse with a cis guy since before his transition and he thinks that's pretty unlikely to happen in the future considering cis men tend to reject him, he has been raped and the thought of not being able to terminate a pregnancy in the case of rape is terrifying. The thought of an accident happening if the Republicans pass legislation to deny transgender people hormones is terrifying. His blood boils and his fists clench; in his mind's eye he burns the Supreme Court building to the ground. OK stop, he tells himself. You don't want to be all fired up like this just before you meet the President. He doesn't deserve your rage, this isn't his fault. Think of something else. Something more pleasant.
Sören's mind's eye helpfully supplies him with yet another fantasy of Anthony and Mark having sex - running their hands over each other's bodies, taking turns eating each other out, sixty-nining, then rubbing pussies together, creamy and sloppy...
God. Damn. It.
But Sören's libido calms down when the anxiety returns, as they go through a patdown and metal detectors at the White House. They've already been through a background check, so this is just regular protocol, and of course Sören isn't carrying a weapon, but while Sören can usually pass through metal detectors without a problem, these metal detectors are sensitive enough that they do get set off by Sören's nipple piercings and he has to explain and be taken aside to quickly unbutton his shirt and show them. He notices Anthony is beetroot - looking away, like a proper gentleman, but still unmistakably blushing - and Sören wants to crawl into the floor and die.
Sören is so mortified by having to show his pierced nipples in front of Anthony and Mark that he ends up freezing. He was diagnosed with autism as a child because of selective mutism - the inability to speak in stressful situations or around strangers - and while he's done some work on that, taking a job as a gallery curator in part because he loves art and gets to occasionally show his own work, and in part as a form of exposure therapy to make himself talk to strangers, now he can feel himself choking and this is the worst possible time for that, when they're all shaking the President's hand and Anthony and Mark are greeting him.
Sören tries to push and find the words. His mouth opens and no sound comes out. He opens his mouth again, and again. Nothing. Anthony gives him a concerned look and Sören's embarrassment intensifies - it was bad enough to have to show his nipples, this is worse - and Sören screams COME FUCKING ON! at himself in his head and finally the words come out in a croak. "It's nice to meet you, President Brandon."
Sören reflexively takes a step back and hears himself let out a tiny "meep". This is even worse than not being able to say anything. It was a complete accident, his subconscious making a flub with the anxiety - he knows about the "let's go, Brandon" meme started by conservatives; Sören is the total opposite of a conservative politically, he's further to the left of Bernie Sanders, he doesn't want the President to think he's a Republican and was calling him that to be some sort of conservative troll. He feels his mouth hanging open, and his stomach turns to icy knots. Oh god. Oh shit. Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckkk -
Biden's smile fades and Anthony gives a little nervous laugh. "He was paying you a compliment," Anthony quickly explains. "Sören is autistic and very interested in mythology." That part is a half-truth - Sören is very interested in Icelandic folklore and many of his paintings reflect that, with elves and trolls and land spirits; it's Anthony who geeks out on mythology as the ancient history buff. "In Welsh mythology there's a king, Bran the Blessed. Not to be confused with BRIAN BLESSED, THE ACTOR." Anthony yells this part, to reflect how well-known Brian Blessed is for his powerful voice. Then Anthony's voice goes back to normal as he continues, "The head of Bran the Blessed protected Britain from invasion by France. Quite fitting, considering how you've led the country through Russia's invasion of Ukraine and Putin knows he can't do that to us -"
Sören feels like Anthony is just making it worse, rather than explaining that sometimes when Sören has anxiety he mixes up words, especially with English not being his native language, but Anthony continues infodumping about Welsh mythology and after a few minutes it seems that Biden's eyes are glazing over, and it's as if Anthony has made an even worse social faux pas than Sören did with the "Brandon" flub; Sören feels ever so slightly less bad about it.
Mark glances over with a slight smirk, his eyes twinkling with amusement as Anthony goes on and on with everything Joe Biden never wanted to know about Welsh mythology.
"Meep. Meep meep meep meep."
Somehow Sören managed to get through lunch and discussion with the President - it helped that Anthony did most of the talking - but now that it's over he feels shame again for his flub at the beginning... shame intensified by making that flub in front of the two guys he's in love with... and now he's meeping in front of them.
Anthony's seen Sören have an autistic meltdown before, but Sören still feels embarrassed, even though he knows he probably doesn't have a chance in hell with them anyway. In the back of his mind Sören can hear his uncle Einar screaming, Useless idiot. Worthless. Your mother should have aborted you.
Sören rocks himself, while Anthony and Mark watch from a few feet away, exchanging glances and making quiet remarks. Finally Anthony and Mark go over to him and both men give him a tight hug.
"It's OK," Anthony says, rocking him.
"Biden himself slips up sometimes," Mark says. "Every President has. Especially that loser Trump."
"Yeah." Anthony's arms hold him even tighter, like a living compression vest. "It's not a big deal. You did OK, honey."
Sören tries not to cringe - he relishes being called "honey" but he knows this is Anthony in parent mode, not a term of endearment from a boyfriend, much as Sören aches for that. "I still feel like an asshole."
"You weren't," Mark says. "Here." He turns Sören's head and makes Sören look him in the eye, even as it makes Sören's cheeks burn hot with shame; it doesn't help that Mark is so gorgeous. "Deep breaths." Mark demonstrates, inhaling then exhaling, chest and shoulders heaving. Anthony follows along.
Despite himself, Sören breathes with them. It doesn't really help, but Sören doesn't want to ruin the rest of their day having a freakout and making them babysit him, so he tries to pull himself together.
"It could have been a lot worse," Anthony says. "You could have pissed yourself."
Sören can't help laughing at that, and gives Anthony a playful whack on the shoulder. "Dammit, Anthony..."
Then Mark smirks and adds, "Though some people would enjoy that. Maybe even some people who work at the White House. I heard some freaky shit goes on at parties in DC."
Sören's eyes widen - they're all prone to perverted humor, which is part of why they get along so well - but he's still shocked... and amused, laughing harder. Now Anthony turns pink and looks away, and Mark also looks off to the side - even Mark is blushing a little now - and it speaks volumes. Sören's cheeks burn hotter for reasons entirely different than having made a gaffe in front of the President, his mind's eye feverish with images of Anthony and Mark pissing on each other. His cunt twinges and he feels his nipples harden as he thinks about them pissing on him together, marking their territory...
Jesus Christ, stop that. Stop wanting things you can't have.
"Heeeeeere," Anthony says, quickly changing the subject, his face even brighter pink. "Why don't we get your mind off things?"
"Yeah, we were going to see the Lincoln Memorial and the Smithsonian, let's do that," Mark says.
Anthony nods agreement, and Mark nods too, and they keep nodding awkwardly, as if they're aware they more or less confessed to being into watersports without saying it outright, just a moment ago. Sören nods with them, and Mark and Anthony each take him by the arm and lead him along. Sören finds their touch comforting even as it's also uncomfortably arousing, making his body tingle.
The Lincoln Memorial is more crowded than Sören would like, but they get some selfies from a distance, and then some good ones once they're at the statue. Anthony continues to try to cheer up Sören by making silly faces in some of the photos - the professor being completely undignified at the solemn statue of Lincoln does indeed make Sören laugh, and he starts to relax a little, trying to get it through his brain that Anthony and Mark really aren't judging him for his flub at the meeting with the President.
By the time they get to the Smithsonian National History Museum, Sören feels exhausted from all the standing at the Lincoln Memorial; there are some manual wheelchairs available and Mark insists Sören sit in one. "Here, I'll push you," Mark says.
Sören's mind goes right in the gutter and he has to stop himself from knee-jerk replying with push it real good.
"Yeah, let Mark give you a ride," Anthony says, nodding.
Sören's face is on fire again, thinking about riding Mark, pussies slapping together, or even Mark fucking him with a strap. Or Mark riding Anthony's strap-on. Sören swallows hard and makes himself focus on his surroundings as Mark starts moving the wheelchair forward.
They see the ancient Egypt exhibit, the exhibit of masons in Mali who built the fabulous architecture of Djenne, and the ocean fossils and the mega-toothed shark. Sören especially enjoys the exhibit of gems and minerals, which includes the Hope Diamond and the diamond necklace and diadem given to Napoleon by Empress Marie-Louise. He takes a photo to send to his friend Yeyette, who lives in Montreal. Sören loves shiny things - once again he feels that urge to learn how to blow glass or make lab-created gems, and he remembers the dream that has been haunting him for years, of making three diamond-like stones but brighter, and somehow alive, full of power.
They visit the Insect Zoo and the Butterfly Pavilion, which Sören also delights in - the butterflies dancing among the vibrant plants is pure magic - and the way Anthony's face lights up and Mark smiles in response makes Sören ache in a good way, wanting their lasting happiness and doubling down on his resolve not to confess his feelings.
They also visit the Smithsonian National Zoological Park - Sören's heart melts again at Anthony's joy in the great cat exhibit and the cheetah conservation area, and Anthony talking baby talk to the big cats. They look at the primates and the elephants and pandas and reptiles and the small mammals, and Sören tears up at seeing them live and in-person, a needed reminder of the beauty and wonder of the world. The Kids' Farm is his undoing, blinking back quiet tears as he pets a small goat - a kindness to his own inner child. While Sören does his best to hide it, Mark seems to notice Sören is getting choked up and gives him a hug.
They end today's portion of touring DC with the Washington Monument. As much as Sören hates elevators, he's willing to brave one to ride up 500 feet to the observation deck, and he's glad he did once he gets out and sees the view of the city. Anthony puts an arm around him and tousles his curls. "You're doing great," Anthony says encouragingly, and Sören leans on him - that little moment of closeness and praise is as exhilarating as the view.
Once they're back down, Sören needs to take a rest.
"You look beat," Mark says. "You OK?"
Sören nods vehemently. "Oh yeah. I'm tired but it's been worth it to see all this."
"And hopefully you're not still beating yourself up about earlier?" Anthony purses his lips.
Sören gives a nervous laugh. He knows his brain probably won't completely let him off the hook, but... "You guys were right that this was a good distraction." He thinks about Anthony grinning at the butterflies, and the moment of petting the goat, and he feels that tightness in his chest again, eyes threatening to mist. So he grasps for levity. "Although, I'm kind of disappointed there were no dicks at the Smithsonian. There's a penis museum in Reykjavik. DC needs to step its game up."
Mark starts whistling innocently, and then he points. Sören and Anthony glance over and Sören facepalms that he didn't catch it sooner - the giant phallic obelisk.
"Just saying," Mark says.
"That's why it's called DC," Anthony adds. "Dick City."
"It is not," Sören says, but still laughs.
And tries not to think about how much bottom growth Anthony has had on T.
On the Maryland side of DC they're staying in an RV park. Mark grills skewers of chicken, mushrooms, zucchini, and peppers, and then they watch a few episodes of Picard before it's time to rest for the night.
Sören is worn out and sore from the day and the hot shower feels good on his aching muscles. It doesn't take long for him to fall asleep, but once again he gets woken up by wet sloppy sounds from the RV bedroom, soft sighs and heavy breathing. And once again Sören finds himself slipping his hand down his boxers, playing with himself as he thinks about what it must look like behind that closed door with the two of them rubbing together, hard and wet for each other. Once again Sören comes hard, gushing, when he hears Mark and Anthony gasp with their release.
Once again Sören buries his face in his pillows and cries silently, wishing he could join them, afraid of telling them that.
Feeling lonely and alone, feeling dried-up like the fossils he saw today, and like the fossils only ever to look, never to touch.
_
Sören's flub of "President Brandon" and Anthony's attempt at a saving throw was inspired by a dream I had where I went with some LGBT activists to meet Biden to discuss trans rights, and in my dream I accidentally called Biden "Brandon" and then, not wanting him to think I was a secret Republican, I started infodumping about Welsh mythology and Bran the Blessed, not to be confused with BRIAN BLESSED.
Yeah. Welcome to my brain 🤣
