On the day of the summer solstice, Sören took a late afternoon nap so he'd be better able to handle the party if it ran late, and when his alarm woke up, he stumbled out to get some iced coffee in the kitchen. Mark was in the living room, reading The Stand, and Sören paused on his way to the kitchen - Mark had yet to give him an answer about whether or not he was going.
Sören stood there, not saying anything, expecting Mark to get the hint and give him a response, but Mark continued reading his book. And then, at last, Mark looked up. "Hm?"
Sören folded his arms. "Well?"
"Well, what?"
"The drum circle tonight. Are you going?"
"No." Mark resumed reading.
Sören walked off with a huff. He knew, as he poured himself a cup of iced coffee, that he couldn't really be justifiably angry about it - he understood all too well what it was like to be an introvert with social anxiety. But he was disappointed - not just that he'd have to go there alone, which would heighten his own anxiety, but he'd been hoping Mark would in fact actually have fun even though he didn't "do" fun. And when Mark came into the kitchen, Sören found he couldn't just let it go, even though he disliked the idea of putting pressure on Mark and making him feel uncomfortable about it.
"Sören, please don't get mad at me. I already told you yesterday I wouldn't be able to decide till later, and you do realize that meant a chance of me saying no -"
"I do realize that, yes. I just." Sören frowned. "Was hoping you'd say yes." He looked down.
"I'm sorry."
Sören met his eyes. "So am I."
"...Oh no."
"Oh no what."
"Sören, you're looking at me like a sad stray puppy that wants to be pet and brought home." Mark put a hand on his hip.
"I'm not gonna argue with you, no is no, I just..." Sören shrugged. "Thought it would be nice. But I guess I'll have to go by myself." He pouted.
"Sören."
"What."
"Sören." Mark raised his eyebrows and then he closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and let out a deep sigh. "You and your... sad puppydog eyes... you win."
Sören put down his coffee and clapped like an overexcited big kid. "Yay!"
Mark facepalmed.
_
Mark decided to drive them there rather than walking. Sören brought along the oil pastel drawing of Sharon as a mermaid, to give to her. He was nervous enough about it to be quiet on the short trip in the car; Mark had the classic rock station playing. And then, just before they reached the parking lot, Sören saw Mark looking at the drawing in Sören's hands.
"That's really nice," Mark said.
"Oh." Sören flushed.
"I saw it when it was a work in progress and it was already looking good, but you did a fantastic job with the finished product."
Sören smiled.
"I take it that's for someone at the drum circle? Did you take a commission?"
"It's a gift."
"That's... that's very generous of you, to gift someone like that."
"Do you think it's too much...?"
"I think the person it's going to better appreciate it."
"I hope so too." Sören swallowed hard.
They were a few minutes early but there was already a healthy number of people around the bonfire - "Sören!" Sharon called as she saw them approaching, waving her hands. She was wearing a pink lace camisole with a rainbow tie-dye skirt and a matching tie-dye scarf. Sören broke out in a run, instantly regretting it when his asthma hit and he had to take a puff on his inhaler.
Sharon gave him a hug - Sören felt his cock stirring just a little - and then he handed her the picture. "Here," he said. "I drew this for you."
Sharon gasped. "Oh, my god." She hugged him again. "That's gorgeous! No one's ever made me a picture before! And I love mermaids, thank you!"
Her boyfriend Lucas came over then and Sharon said, "Look at this. Sören made that."
"Wow," Lucas said, smiling at Sharon, and then he glanced across the painting with narrow eyes as if to tell Sören, I don't like you. He put an arm around Sharon and kissed her on the cheek. "That's really cool."
Mark was at Sören's side now. "Sharon, Lucas, this is Mark, my roommate. Mark, this is Sharon and Lucas. And... Marguerite and Herb should be around here somewhere..."
Sharon pointed. They were helping to get the drums set up around the fire.
Mark looked at the people who were already gathered, and Sören could tell he was having second thoughts about coming. "How many more people are showing up to this thing?"
"Ah shit, I should have asked that before I invited you," Sören said, running a nervous hand through his curls, feeling like an idiot. There was a bit of a difference between a few people and several dozen.
"Not many," Sharon said.
"How many is not many?" Mark raised an eyebrow. "Two? Three? Three dozen?"
Sharon laughed. "A few more. Maybe less than a dozen, unless someone shows up with a carload of people we weren't expecting." She took Sören's hand, with Lucas's hand in the other. "Come on."
Mark followed Sören, Sharon, and Lucas to the bonfire. There was a mix of ages, the group was mostly white with a few black, Hispanic, and Asian attendants, and the group seemed pretty evenly divided by gender, with a few androgynous people; one of the androgynes, who was also one of the only Asians, was wearing a "My pronouns are they/them" sticker and handing out pronoun stickers to everyone, which Sören appreciated since his late sister was a trans woman. Sören and Mark both took "he/him" stickers, which Sören jokingly almost put on his forehead before sticking it on his shirt.
There were a couple coolers of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages, and a folding table set out with snacks of various kinds. Sören paused a moment to look at the cheese before Marguerite gave him a hug. Herb clapped him on the back and said, "Sören, glad you made it!"
"Herb, Marguerite, this is my friend Mark. Mark, these were the nice people who invited me to the drum circle."
Mark gave a polite wave. "So we just... grab a drum?"
"Yup, grab a drum if you want to drum," Herb said.
"I think I'll dance," Sören said, looking back over at Sharon.
Mark looked at the different drums, considering, and chose a djembe.
Sören spent the next four hours in a kind of trance, dancing wildly to the nearly two dozen drummers playing. Lucas was among the drummers, and Sharon danced. For a time he and Sharon danced separately, at opposite ends of the circle, but as the night wore on they began to dance together. Sören danced hard enough to work up a sweat - it was a warm night anyway - and at some point he took off his shirt. Then someone was lighting torches and passing them to those who wanted to dance with fire, and even though Sören was overheated he took a torch and danced around with it, hoping there wouldn't be an accident with anyone getting singed or burned. Some of the dancers had LED poi tools, lighting up the circle with neon colors, which reminded Sören of his club experiences in Toronto, but he wasn't triggered, and eventually he traded a torch to be able to play with a set of glow poi balls, weaving rainbow flowers around himself. Then Sharon had a set and the rainbow flowers looped together. Sören looked into Sharon's eyes and when she grinned at him, his breath caught.
God, I want her.
He felt stupid about it - she had a boyfriend, he didn't know anything about her except she liked KMFDM and pot - but there was an energy to her, a happiness, that made him feel warm and glowy around her.
In his self-consciousness, Sören started to think about leaving, even though the drum circle was still going strong. He looked around and his eyes rested on Mark, who was pounding away on the djembe. Mark smiled at him, and if Sharon gave him a flutter, Mark's smile made him feel like he'd been hit by a train. The way Mark transformed with the drum, going from melancholy and brooding to passionate intensity, looking so alive...
Sören's throat went dry. He grabbed water from the cooler, and then he brought one to Mark, even though he felt a little nervous as he approached him, and then a lot nervous as he got closer, like he was seeing Mark for the first time and he was some kind of rock star or god instead of the equally socially awkward introvert he'd been getting to know the last few days.
"Here," Sören said, holding out the water bottle.
Mark took it.
"Enjoying yourself?" Sören raised an eyebrow.
"Actually, yes." Mark grinned, and Sören's heart started pounding again.
His hands shook with opening his own water bottle and drinking from it as he noticed Mark looking at him, noticing the sweat dripping down his chest, the damp curls. I must look like a drowned rat, Sören thought to himself as his lips wrapped around the water bottle, and then he saw Mark look away.
They spent another hour there, and at midnight, about a third of the drum circle started to leave. By twelve-thirty another few people were on their way off, and Mark got up to stretch and put the djembe back in the drum pile. Sören expected Mark to say it was time to go but instead Mark said, "I'll dance with you for a few minutes, then we leave."
Sören had never seen Mark dance - before that time, he didn't think Mark did or could dance. And though Mark was close to seven feet tall, he didn't look like an awkward giant at all, but moved gracefully, like liquid flame. His dance even seemed somewhat seductive, though Sören didn't think Mark was trying to seduce him or anyone there. Mark looked smooth enough that Sören - who had been dancing madly the entire night, not caring what anyone thought - felt like he looked ridiculous in comparison, but he still continued dancing, amused by the thought he might look like a dork. And then Mark was twirling him around, and then Sören was twirling Mark around, and then Mark picked him up off the ground, threw him in the air, and caught him, making Sören shriek with giddy laughter.
"OK, let's go," Mark said, grabbing Sören's hand.
Sören waved to Sharon and Herb and Marguerite. "Night guys, thank you for everything!"
"Give us a call and we'll get together sometime," Marguerite called back. "Your friend is invited too - you were awesome on the drums, by the way."
"Thank you," Mark said. "It was nice meeting you."
Sören grabbed his shirt and put it on before they got in the car. Once they were seated in Mark's Jaguar, they caught their breath for a few minutes, then looked at each other and laughed for no reason before Mark turned the ignition on.
"Aren't you glad I made you come?" Sören asked, and then he facepalmed, realizing too late how that sounded.
Mark had taken a sip of water from his bottle and he spat, turning bright red, shaking with silent laughter.
Sören laughed so hard he snorted, which made Mark laugh harder.
Finally Mark looked at Sören, opened his mouth to speak, and he could only say, "Er."
"Jæja, er. Sorry." Sören's own face was burning; now he had mental images of having sex with Mark, and his cock was responding. "I mean... brought you with me."
"Yes, Sören. Thank you for dragging me along." Mark patted his shoulder and began to pull out of the parking lot.
"I didn't just want someone to go with me so I'd feel less like a stranger, but I wanted you to have fun."
"It's been a long time since I've played music with other people outside the context of school, and I enjoyed that. Even if half the people there seemed to be of the impression patchouli oil is a substitute for bathing."
Sören snorted again. "I didn't notice, but then, I've been working up a sweat myself dancing." He lifted an arm, took a whiff, and made a face. "Phew, I need a shower when we get back."
"I do too - I smell like weed and I don't smoke - but you're welcome to it first."
We could shower together. Sören's face burned again. He pushed that thought away as quickly as he could. This is your roommate. Don't make shit awkward. Stop.
After a few minutes of continuing to come down from the high of the drumming and dancing, with the classic rock station playing Van Halen in the background, Mark finally asked, "So what's up with you and that girl, uh...?"
"Sharon?"
"Yes. You like her?"
"A little." Sören shrugged. "She's got a boyfriend, I don't think anything is going to come of that."
"She seemed to like being around you a lot, for someone who has a boyfriend."
"I guess? I dunno." Sören sipped his water. Then his asthma finally started to act up, after his lungs behaved themselves for four and a half hours of exertion. Mark watched with concern as Sören puffed from his inhaler, and Sören took a few deep breaths after that - the look Lucas had given him was fresh on his mind, and the quiet display of jealous aggression from another man was reminding him too much of Seth, even though Lucas otherwise looked nothing like Seth. Sören closed his eyes.
The simple act of closing his eyes and trying to zone out to the music made Sören doze off a little, with Mark shaking him gently a few minutes later. "We're here."
Sören blinked his eyes open.
"Are you going to be OK to shower?" Mark raised an eyebrow.
Sören nodded. Once he had water on his face he was usually alert enough to shower safely.
And once they were out of the car and in the house, they lingered for a few minutes before Sören said, "I guess I'll take that shower now."
"OK. And Sören, thank you again."
"Thank you. It was nice to see you enjoying yourself."
Their eyes met. "You too."
Sören walked to the bathroom and stripped down as the shower ran. Once he stepped inside, he masturbated for the first time in months, fantasizing about eating out Sharon, which turned into a fantasy of sucking off Mark. He came hard to the thought of Mark climaxing, and leaned against the shower wall, trying not to slide down the wall as his seed flowed over his hand into the drain.
Well, things just got awkward.