Sören groaned involuntarily as daylight blared into his face, rousing him from sleep.
A nice, cozy sleep in a snuggly, warm nest.
Sören's first sight after the bright sky over the beach through the glass door was Mark. He was in Mark's bed again. The two were curled up together, limbs tangled. Mark was still in pajamas, and Sören was wearing a T-shirt and pajama bottoms. Mark's eyes were closed, long lashes framing his cheeks; he looked beautiful even in sleep, and Sören's breath caught. He also felt himself smiling - Mark was holding Eeyore, as Sören was clinging to Bláberja.
Sören looked at the time. It was after eight AM. He knew Mark was usually up before now. He also knew from his own past experience that even following emotional exhaustion from crying, it wasn't a guarantee one would sleep later the next day. He wondered if being held through the night had comforted Mark enough to sleep. He wondered if the stuffed animals had helped; Sören had a hard time sleeping without his.
Sören thought about that, watching Mark sleep. Not only was the sight of him holding Eeyore adorable, counteracting his usual morning grumpiness, but Sören thought to himself, Mark needs a friend.
Sören was torn between the urge to go to the bathroom and wanting to watch Mark sleep just a few minutes more... wanting to savor the feeling of closeness, temporarily sating the skin hunger that ran bone deep. Mark looked so sweet and peaceful in his sleep that Sören had to fight the urge to stroke his hair...
...Mark's eyes blinked open, and looked into Sören's. He blinked again, mouth opening a little as if in disbelief that Sören was in his bed, and then he looked at the clock and back at Sören.
"Hey," Sören husked.
"Hi. Good morning." Mark's lips quirked in a small smile. "For once you're up first."
"Jæja, not for too long. I was just about to get out of bed but didn't want to wake you..."
"Well, thanks for that." Mark looked out at the view of the beach, and then at the stuffed animals, then at Sören. "And for staying with me last night."
Sören patted him. "You needed a friend." A friend. Sören felt that pang, and swallowed hard, looking away.
"You're very kind."
"I try."
They lingered for a moment - Mark looked like he wanted to say something more, but didn't, and Sören waited, until Mark started to sit up and Sören did as well.
They went to the kitchen for coffee, and Sören took his morning meds. Mark leaned against the glass patio doors, looking out to sea. Looking a little sad. Sören wondered what had him so upset yesterday.
Sören took a shower, brushed his teeth, and got changed into cargo shorts - a change from his usual jean shorts - and a dark blue T-shirt. When he was dressed and opened his door, a few minutes later Mark came to the doorway with Eeyore and Bláberja in his hands. "Thought I should return your friends," Mark said.
"They're your friends now, too." Sören grinned.
Mark laughed softly. "I guess so."
Sören thought about just giving Eeyore to Mark for comfort, except that he'd grown so accustomed to sleeping with Eeyore that even with his bunny back, he couldn't give up the doll so easily. And then the gears started turning in his head. "Mark, do you have plans for the day?"
"Not particularly. You wanted to go somewhere?"
Sören nodded.
"Mkay. I'm gonna shower and change first, if that's OK? Then you can tell me where we're going."
Sören couldn't help himself. "Hi Gonna Shower And Change First -"
Mark threw Eeyore at him, and Sören's laughter rang out as he ducked, but caught the bunny just before it could hit him. "It's too early for your shit, Sören," Mark said, but he was smiling.
Sören stuck his tongue out, and Mark stuck his tongue out - Sören's mind went straight into the gutter - and then Sören laughed harder. "We're so mature," Sören said.
"The maturest, adultiest adults to ever adult."
Sören cackled. "That's good, because we're about to do something super adulty."
"Oh Hells." Mark rolled his eyes, and then gave Sören a stern look before he walked off to the bathroom.
Sören managed to behave himself and not sneak a glance at Mark coming out of the bathroom in a towel, much as he was tempted. He already felt self-conscious enough about covertly fantasizing about his roommate, never mind deliberately spying on him near-naked. But just the memory of the times he had seen Mark in a towel, glistening wet, got his libido stirring. He tried to distract himself by re-reading Sharon's notebook but being reminded of Sharon and thinking of her in that bikini didn't help.
Mark paused at Sören's door again wearing jeans and a KISS T-shirt. Sören looked up.
"So, where did you want to go?"
"I know this sounds lame, but..." Sören ran a nervous hand through his curls. "I believe there's a Build A Bear Workshop in San Francisco. I wanted to, ah, celebrate the return of my blue bunny by getting him a friend." That wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the full truth, either.
Mark nodded. "OK."
"We could go to Golden Gate Park too, maybe?"
Mark did a GPS lookup on his phone and then he said, "We're going to pass by the Palace of Fine Arts between the park and Build A Bear if you want to take a detour."
Sören clapped his hands excitedly like a big kid. Mark smiled and said, "All right, fifteen minutes and we go?" Sören nodded.
Fifteen minutes later they were in the car, listening to KISS. They made it onto the highway to the tune of "Rock And Roll All Nite", singing along together.
On a sunny Wednesday morning the park was lively but not ridiculous. Sören wanted to go to the de Young Museum and look at the art and the sculpture garden - Sören delighted at the twenty-one-foot-tall Giant Safety Pin, laughing hysterically at it. Mark laughed too. Sören got Mark to pose at the Giant Safety Pin, who took an ultra-serious "not amused face" pose, as well as a pose throwing the horns.
It was a short walk to the Rose Garden, which they strolled through, taking their time to admire the showy blooms and the sweet fragrance. Sören took more pictures - he knew Dooku in particular would love this, as Dooku grew roses; he fondly remembered the pressed rose Dooku had given him back in December when he was first recovering from the accident, a token of friendship, that he still had.
Thinking of Dooku gave him that little flutter in his stomach. Seeing Mark walk among the roses, hair stirring in the breeze, gave him another flutter, and a sharp ache.
God, he's beautiful.
Sören took a picture of Mark too.
Walking around some more, towards the Japanese Tea Garden but not quite there, Sören spotted a tiny faery door on a fallen eucalyptus log. He squeaked, and giggled at the offerings that people left there - acorns, shells, bells, tiny rolled up messages. "If I'd known this was here I would have brought something," Sören said, hearing the wistfulness in his voice. "This reminds me of the huldufólk back home."
Sören circled around, taking pictures, and then he just sat in the grass, marveling. "This is so great. A little touch of magic. That's exactly what the world needs." Sören felt himself grinning. "Maybe if I wait here, I'll see an Elf."
Mark smiled, but his eyes looked sad. Sören wanted to give him a hug, aching for whatever pain he'd known that was coming out now.
Sören was in a playful enough mood to want to visit the playground, which was in the opposite direction. The Koret Children's Quarter Playground was also near a carousel; Sören decided he wanted to ride on the carousel, and got Mark to join him - though Mark rolled his eyes, he was also laughing and Sören could tell he was enjoying himself. Whatever sadness he'd felt at the faery door seemed to be gone as they circled around on horses bobbing up and down.
After that they went from the park to the Palace of Fine Arts, walking around just to admire the structure - Sören got more photos. It was impressive architecture, with its dome, rotunda, and colonnades, sitting on a lagoon fringed by eucalyptus trees. Sören did a little happy dance when he saw swans with baby swans sailing by.
"You're so cute," Mark said.
Sören blushed. He thinks I'm cute?
He wondered about that and then he thought to himself, Probably means my reactions are cute. Doesn't mean he likes me that way.
Sören tried not to sigh out loud.
Sören almost regretted suggesting Build A Bear when they got in and there were rambunctious, shrieking children. Of course Sören had expected kids to be there, but he'd forgotten how loud and wild kids could be. His discomfort with the noise subsided a bit as he browsed the selections.
"There wasn't anything like this around when I was a kid," Sören said to Mark in a voice hushed with awe at the seemingly infinite possibilities of stuffed animal bases, clothing and accessories. "Even if it was, my aunt and uncle..." He cringed.
Mark put a hand on his shoulder.
"One of the nice things about being an adult," Sören said, "is that we can do whatever we want now. Well, you know... within reason. But we can indulge that part of ourselves."
"I've never had a stuffed animal," Mark said.
"Really? But you said your childhood was happy..."
"It was." Mark sounded almost defensive. "This was a long time ago -"
"Yeah, I forgot you're an old fart."
Mark elbowed him. Then he shrugged. "My parents encouraged us to play outside, do hobbies."
"Jæja, you mentioned your parents were artsy bohemian types, so I guess that makes sense, they'd be less into buying you stuff and more into encouraging you to make your own fun."
Mark nodded.
"Still, though, I feel bad you never had a stuffed animal." Sören pouted. "If I was your dad, I'd have gotten you a nice bear to play with..."
For some reason Sören's mind took that in the not-so-innocent direction of the double meaning of "bear", and at the glimpse of a white-furred polar bear he thought of Dooku and entertained the brief fantasy of Dooku shirtless, silver chest hair, before he shoved that thought away, face on fire. He also felt a strange sense of déjà vu, and didn't understand why, since he'd never set foot in a Build A Bear before today.
Sören decided that Bláberja's new friend would be a glittery, rainbow-colored rabbit. He picked out a sparkly unicorn T-shirt and pink sparkle leggings for the rabbit to wear, with a rainbow wig and fuchsia sequin bows to go on the ears. Mark facepalmed, shaking with silent laughter that was no longer silent when Sören made the bunny swivel its hips and make a snapping gesture with its paw. "Yasss honey, I am fa-bu-lous," Sören said in his best "stereotypically gay" voice.
"What is this, Queer Eye for the Stuffed Guy?" Mark asked.
Sören nodded, tearing up. "I would watch the fuck out of that show." At the glare a parent gave him, Sören said, "Um. I mean. I would watch the fun out of that show."
"Hells, Sören." Mark was turning red now, still shaking with laughter. "Let's... pay for this and get out of here."
"Not so fast." Sören looked at the rabbit and moved its head like a ventriloquist dummy. "What's that, Sparkle Bunny?" Sören made the rabbit's head move some more, then he turned back to Mark. "Sparkle Bunny says you need a friend."
Mark facepalmed again. "Oh no."
"Oh yes." And then Sören made Sparkle Bunny poke him and said "YAS, HONEY," in the rabbit's voice.
"Sören, I am not getting a stuffed animal -"
"Hi, Not Getting A Stuffed Animal." Then Sören put his hand on his hip. "So you pay lip service to it being OK if I sleep with one, and you repaired my bunny, but you're what... too manly... for this shit now?" Sören quickly corrected himself. "This ship." Sören muttered, "This is why I don't teach little kids."
"I didn't say that," Mark said after a long pause.
"So what's stopping you?"
Mark shrugged.
"We're getting you a stuffed animal, Mark. I'll pay for it. It's a gift to say thank you for repairing Bláberja and yes I insist." Sören gave him a look as fearsome as the one he'd gotten from the parent for swearing.
"OK, fine." Mark let out an exaggerated sigh.
"Yay!" Sören clapped, then he made Sparkle Bunny hop excitedly.
Mark and Sören looked at the selection of dolls. "I... I have no idea what I'm doing," Mark said, and gave Sören a pleading look.
"You think I should pick it out, then?"
Mark nodded.
Sören turned to Sparkle Bunny, making the rabbit's head nod like a ventriloquist's dummy, then Sören turned back to Mark and said "Sparkle Bunny thinks you should get this." He picked out a plush unicorn, light purple with a pink horn, the mane, tail and hoof fringe in pink, yellow, and blue. "As a reminder of today... the faery door and the carousel. The magic that's still left in this world."
Their eyes met, and then Mark just nodded. "OK."
Sören got a gauzy dress for the unicorn to wear, and a sparkly bow to put on its horn. At the checkout Mark muttered "I can't believe I'm doing this."
Sören gestured to Mark's KISS shirt and teased, "You like a band with grown men who paint their faces but this is too ridiculous for you?"
"You're gonna get it."
Sören attempted a wink - he couldn't wink so it was more of a clumsy blink.
On the way back they decided to stop for lunch. Sören wanted to go to the famed In N Out Burger, so even though fast food wasn't the classiest thing, that was what they did. After waiting in line to get their order, and filling drinks, they slid into a booth. Mark peeled the paper off his straw, then he wadded it into a ball and spat it at Sören with his straw. Sören snorted as the ball hit him in the face.
"What was that for?"
Mark pointed to his shirt.
Sören laughed. "So are we even now?"
"Probably not."
When Mark was looking out the window, Sören retaliated, blowing a spitball at Mark with his own straw. Mark kicked him under the table, and then Sören got up, went over to Mark, and put him in a headlock and gave him a noogie.
Then Mark's arms went around him, and Sören returned the hug. Mark leaned against him for a moment. "Thank you," he said.
"For?"
"For being you." Mark looked up at him.
For a wild, crazy moment Sören thought about kissing him, but again I can't fuck up our friendship smacked that urge away. And then the moment was gone as Mark pulled him down into the booth, an arm around Sören's neck, and noogied him mercilessly, with Sören squealing loud enough to make people look at them, giggling as his arms and legs flailed. Mark stopped when their number was called, and they got out of the booth and went to the counter to collect their food, bringing it back to the table.
Sören's cell phone went off halfway through his meal. He wanted to ignore it but it was "Immigrant Song" by Led Zeppelin, the ringtone for his brother Dagnýr. "I have to take this," Sören said. He swiped to accept the call. "Dag! Hi!"
"Hey! How goes it?"
"It goes." Sören looked at Mark. "Can I call you back in a bit? Mark and I are at In N Out."
"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST SÖREN I DON'T WANT TO KNOW ABOUT YOUR SEX LIFE."
Just that moment Mark had taken a sip of his drink and he ended up spitting, then doubling over with laughter, burying his face in his hands. Sören laughed so hard he snorted, and when people were looking at them Sören snorted some more, which made Mark laugh harder. Mark pulled his hands away from his face and it was bright red; Sören could feel his own face burning, though also that little ache, not wanting his mind to go there with filthy thoughts about Mark and it so very much was going there.
"It's a fucking restaurant, you pervert," Sören said to his brother. "We're eating goddamn burgers."
"Oh. Oh."
"Yeah."
"All righty then."
"So I'll call you when I get home? It's not an emergency, is it?"
"Nah, it's not important. Just, you know. Making sure you're OK and all."
"I'm all right, Dag." Sören wanted to tell him don't be so overprotective but he of course knew why Dag was like that, having seen firsthand Sören's self-destructive tendencies in Toronto - trying his best to help him rein it in enough so Sören could get an education - and having heard about the horror that was Seth. Dag still didn't know the whole story, but what he knew was enough for Dag to worry about him. "I'll talk to you in a bit."
"OK."
Sören exhaled sharply when he got off the phone. "Sorry about that."
Mark shrugged. "It's all right."
"My brother... he... worries." Sören frowned into his drink.
"Well, from what I know about you, you've had a hard life. I can't blame him."
"Yeah." Sören sighed. "Neither can I. It's just..." Sören pinched the bridge of his nose. "A constant reminder that I'm not really normal. I already get enough of that having to take meds every day, for the rest of my life..." Sören leaned back in his seat.
"Neither of us are normal, Sören. There's no judgment here." Mark reached across the table and his scarred hand covered the top of Sören's hand for a moment. He patted Sören's hand then pulled back. "I think normal is overrated, anyway."
Sören nodded.
"I believe it was Krishnamurti who said It is no measure of health to be well-adjusted to a profoundly sick society," Mark said.
"That's some truth right there. But goddamn if it isn't a bitch to live with."
"I'll drink to that."
They clinked their paper cups together as if they were drinking glasses, Sören chuckling at it.
The rest of that day passed by fairly uneventfully - Sören called his brother back and gave assurances he was fine. Mark made a light dinner that evening, a salad. They watched Star Trek together as usual, and Sören went back to Sharon's notebook before bed.
Thursday was a quiet day. Sören started work on a painting of Marilwen the paladin, using his sketch as a reference. When he took a break in the late afternoon, he and Mark walked along the beach together, and then they just sat in the sand for a little while, quietly watching the waves, before Sören said, "Hey, build a sandcastle with me."
"A sandcastle?"
"A sand something." Sören shrugged. "Doesn't have to be a castle."
They ended up attempting a crude replica of the Palace of Fine Arts, and then on a whim, Sören made a faery door. "If I was an Elf I'd want a big palace like this," Sören said. "I'd go hide out there when I felt like the world was too much. Shut myself away and just... make stuff, I guess." He could almost see it in his mind's eye, his wildly impractical dream home.
When he opened his eyes, Mark had a stricken look on his face. "Hey," Sören said. "Are you OK?" He gestured. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Mark gave a nervous laugh. "It's nothing."
"Mark..." Sören folded his arms. "One messed-up person to another, you can't get away with telling me it's nothing. It's something. I'll respect it if you don't want to talk about it, but..."
"Just... sometimes you remind me of my father, is all." Mark looked down at the sand palace, then up at Sören, and then out at the sea.
"You miss him a lot, já?"
Mark just nodded.
Sören came over to give him a hug. Then he realized his hands were all sandy and he was getting sand all over Mark. "Shit," he said.
"It's all right."
Sören felt that urge to kiss him again, but restrained himself. And he just said I remind him of his father, so that's clearly not ever going to be a thing.
But when they got up finally, Mark returned the hug, and Sören felt himself getting hard as he kept stealing glances at Mark on the way back up to the beach house. Back in the privacy of his room, he brought himself to climax thinking about having sex with Mark on the beach, and he cried again after the release, aching for what he couldn't have, shouldn't want. He smoked a bowl to calm down - not wanting to run into Mark and have him notice he was upset, ask what was wrong, and possibly blurt it out. The weed did its job and by dinnertime Sören was nice and mellow, enough that being in Mark's company the next couple hours for Star Trek wasn't awkward.
On Friday the fourteenth, Sören and Mark went to Golden Gate Park again. This time they looked at the windmills, with Sören making obligatory Don Quixote references, which Mark laughed at.
"I appreciate your literacy," Mark said.
"Been reading as long as I could walk," Sören said. "You ought to read Sharon's stories, if you like fantasy at all. It's my favorite genre."
"Really?"
Sören nodded. "Ursula K. LeGuin is my favorite author, though I've got a soft spot for Tolkien. Well... I haven't read everything of his, just the Lord of the Rings trilogy and that was a long time ago, when I was a teenager."
Mark looked away and gave a slow nod.
"You ever read Tolkien?" Sören asked.
"Yeah, might have read it once or twice." Mark looked down. "I'm reading The Dark Tower series by Stephen King."
"Ooh, is it any good?"
"It makes me want to tear my hair out sometimes, so I guess it must be, if I care enough to scream at it."
Sören laughed. "I've gotten way too invested in fictional characters myself."
Bringing up Tolkien made Sören think of his cousin Ari, who was a Tolkien buff and wrote fanfiction. Sören again felt a pang of guilt that he hadn't talked to Ari much at all this summer, and he resolved to do that sometime today when he was back home, making a mental note of the time difference between California and Iceland.
On the way back Mark seemed strangely distant, and Sören wondered if he'd said or done the wrong thing somehow. Not long after they got in, Mark went out to the beach for awhile, and Sören decided to just call Ari even though international calls were expensive. He waited - it was just after one PM, which meant it would be after eight Ari's time, Ari probably wasn't working now, but whether or not he'd be free was another story...
"Sören!"
"Ari, hi! Sorry, was just thinking of you today and felt bad I haven't called yet..."
"It's all right, I know you've been busy. How's California?"
"Oh god, Ari, if you can ever get out here and see it you should. That pull from the hat you did... it was very lucky."
"I don't believe in luck, Sören. Seems like it was fate."
"I guess so, because it's quite a weird coincidence that I'm sharing a house for the summer with one of my colleagues."
"Really."
"Jæja. Mark Lauer. Music theory professor."
"What's he like? Old? Young?"
"Yes?" Sören laughed. "He's only ten years older than I am, but he's got that old soul feeling to him that you've said about people before."
"Old like Dooku?"
Sören laughed again. "No, he's not stuffy... much. It's cool, he and I are kind of on the same wavelength about a lot of things. He composes music and it's gorgeous. He's played while I paint and it's like taking a hit of... creative crack, or something. We really mesh well, as people."
"Well, that's good. Would suck for you to have a shitty roommate."
"No, I really like him." And then at those words, Sören felt the knife to his gut, because he knew the full strength of them.
"I bet." Ari was nothing if not observant, and those two words summed up that just in his voice and what little Sören had said, Ari knew it too.
Sören sighed. "Shit." He laughed, this time from anxiety, and rubbed his beard.
"Well, I don't mean to be rude, but can we talk more about this in a couple days? Like can you Skype me on..." There was a pause - Sören had a feeling Ari was checking his calendar. "Sunday? Afternoon your time, evening mine? I have a D&D game I'm on my way to..."
"Oh, jæja, sorry, I didn't know -"
"No need to be sorry. I'd talk longer if I could."
"OK! Have fun at your game and I'll talk to you Sunday."
"Sounds good." A pause, and Ari teased, "Don't get in too much trouble."
Sören blew a raspberry before he hit End.
Sören's face was on fire, and he needed some fresh air. He stepped out on the deck, and looked out at Mark sitting on the beach, hugging his knees, looking sad. Sören wondered again what Mark was sad about. Even more than the lust he felt for Mark, he genuinely cared about his friend and wanted Mark to be happy. Wanted to do something to make Mark happy.
Sören thought about going out to Mark with the unicorn, since Sören found hugging stuffed animals to be comforting when he was upset, but then he had an even better - or worse - idea.
Sören went to his room, unboxed the tea set he'd bought from the Japanese Tea Garden, washed it, and made green tea. As the kettle boiled, he assembled Eeyore, Bláberja, Sparkle Bunny, and Mark's unicorn at the table on the deck. He put out a plate of shortbread cookies. When the tea was ready, he went out to the deck, put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. Mark looked over and Sören waved, then he made a "come here" gesture.
Mark slowly walked up to the deck, and when he saw what waited for him he doubled over laughing. "Sören..."
"Sit."
They sat and had tea. "I can't believe I'm doing this," Mark said.
Sören snapped a candid photo of him. "Not every day I get to see a dude with a Metallica shirt having a tea party with stuffed animals."
"No, and with good reason."
Sören raised an eyebrow. "That's mean to your friend." Sören put a cookie in front of the unicorn.
Mark took the cookie and nibbled on it.
Sören kicked him under the table and Mark laughed. "You can't be stealing from... from..." He gestured to the unicorn. "What did you name him?"
Mark gave Sören a sheepish look. "I haven't given it a name."
Sören gave Mark a stern look. "He needs a name, Mark."
Mark rolled his eyes.
"So give him a name, cookie thief -"
"He said I could... borrow... his cookie." Mark looked at the unicorn and made the unicorn's head nod.
"Jæja, you know what else he's saying?" Sören made the unicorn's head move. "Give me a name, Mark!"
Mark facepalmed, shaking with laughter. "Dammit, Sören..."
"We're waiting." Sören made the unicorn tap his foot.
Mark laughed harder. "Hells, Sören..."
"Hells!" Sören made the unicorn clap his hooves, and then bounce up and down. "Hells, my name is Hells," Sören said in a singsong voice.
Mark made noises.
After a few minutes they calmed down and then Mark said, "This is nice."
"I saw you out there looking all..." Sören made a vague hand gesture. "I thought you could use some cheering up."
"Yeah." Mark sighed. "Just... stuff on my mind."
"I won't press it but I'm here if you need to talk, you know?"
Mark nodded. "I know. Not sure this is something I can talk about, though." He gave a thin, apologetic smile.
"I understand."
When the tea and cookies were finished, Mark said, "You want to run to the store with me?"
Sören nodded.
Continuing in the playful spirit, Sören put Eeyore, Hells and Sparkle Bunny in the back seat of Mark's Jaguar, and Bláberja rode on his lap. Mark laughed at the sight of it, and laughed harder when Sören made Bláberja headbang to Mark's Def Leppard playlist.
Sören found himself singing along to Def Leppard.
Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on
Livin' like a lover with a radar phone
Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp
Demolition woman, can I be your man?
Razzle 'n' a dazzle 'n' a flash a little light
Television lover, baby, go all night
Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet
Little Missy Innocent sugar me
So c'mon
Take a bottle, shake it up
Break the bubble, break it up
Pour some sugar on me
Ooh, in the name of love
Pour some sugar on me
C'mon, fire me up
Pour your sugar on me
I can't get enough
I'm hot, sticky sweet
From my head to my feet
"I love this song," Sören made the bunny say, bobbing his head. "I like sweet things... got chased out of a few berry bushes..."
Sören looked at his bunny then and shook his head. "I... I don't think that's what kind of sugar this song is talking about."
Bláberja clapped his paw over his mouth and then Sören made the bunny's ears hide his face. "My virgin ears," Sören said in the bunny's voice.
"Oh my god, Sören..." Mark shook his head, laughing. "You've corrupted an innocent bunny..." He grinned. "Maybe no more Def Leppard for your bunny."
"No." The bunny folded his arms. "Still gonna listen to it even if it's naughty. Besides..." Sören couldn't help cringing and laughing at the same time as he made the joke. "Why do you think they call it hare metal?"
Mark laughed out loud, doubling over at the wheel. "Sören, that's terrible even for you."
"I know. It was bad, and I should feel bad." Sören giggled. "I don't, though."
Then "Animal" came on, and Sören made the bunny hop during the chorus, belting out
And I want and I need
And I stuffed animal
And I want and I need
And I stuffed animal
"That's not how the song goes." Mark laughed again.
"It is now," Bláberja insisted with a little "hmph" at the end.
Sören put the bunny in the cart at the store, and on the way back they had the radio on instead of Mark's playlist; "Silent Lucidity" by Queensryche came on and Sören cradled and rocked the bunny in his arms. "I think he's sleeping now," Sören whispered.
After they put the groceries away, Sören was about to head off to his room to get some more painting done, carrying Eeyore, Bláberja, and Sparkle Bunny. But then Mark said, "Sören, wait."
Sören paused. He watched as Mark took Bláberja and gave the bunny a hug and a pat, and then Mark hugged him too. Sören hugged him tight, a lump in his throat.
When they pulled apart, Mark told him, "Don't ever change. You've got a beautiful light in you."
Sören swallowed hard. "So do you."
Their eyes met, and held, and then Sören walked off to his room, his heart pounding, making himself get out of there before the three little words he actually wanted to say - which weren't "so do you" - slipped out.
Help me, I've fallen in love with Mark Fucking Lauer.