Sören woke to the feeling of something rubbing on his face, rubbing on his nose, tickling it. The scent of a rose.
He opened his eyes and saw Mark smiling at him, holding the single long-stemmed rose that Sören had kept out on the bedtable apart from the remaining seven roses of the bouquet. Mark continued to rub the rose against Sören's cheek and then rubbed it on Sören's nose again, making him giggle. Sören glanced over at the time and it was an hour before his alarm was to go off.
"I'd normally let you sleep till then," Mark husked, raining little kisses over Sören's face, "but something tells me you weren't going to mind." With that, his free hand took Sören's and guided it down to his hard cock, while the rose brushed down Sören's neck to his chest, rubbing against a nipple.
Sören was already sporting a healthy morning erection but now it jolted to life, and Mark laughed softly as he felt Sören's cock spring up, ready to play. "Mmmmmmm." With his own cock firmly in Sören's hand, Mark cupped Sören's chin and kissed him deeply, then began kissing Sören's neck as the rose resumed teasing Sören's nipple.
"Oh, fuck." Sören shuddered.
Mark smiled, a mischievous look in his eyes, before he nibbled on Sören's neck. He kissed Sören's neck more insistently, licked it, licked his throat, kissed and licked the sweet spot where the neck and shoulder meet... and Sören felt Mark's hard cock rub up against his.
"Oh, fuuuuuuuckkkk..." Sören's breath hitched, his nails digging into Mark's hips.
The rose brushed the other nipple, Mark leaning in to take a lick at the nipple that he'd just finished teasing. He lapped and suckled at the nipple while the rose continued to rub the other.
"Oh, FUCK!" Sören bucked against him.
Mark went back and forth between Sören's nipples, licking, sucking, nibbling one as the rose caressed the other. After a few rounds of this his fingers and thumb played with one as the rose brushed the other, as Mark claimed Sören's mouth again. The soft rose petals and the feather-light touch of the bloom drove Sören crazy, whimpering into each kiss, grinding back on Mark as Mark's cock continued to slide against his.
After doing this for awhile Mark leaned up, and Sören sucked Mark's index and middle fingers, Mark watching him closely as he dragged the rose along Sören's body in achingly slow strokes, whispering over his chest, stomach, down one hip and thigh and knee, and back up the other. Sören's cock dripped precum, throbbing, and every now and again Mark would dive down to take a few licks at the head of Sören's cock, lapping up the precum, making a show of streamers between Sören's cock and his tongue.
It was deliciously sensual - nobody had ever made love to Sören like this before. Sören was tempted to call out from school and just spend all day in bed letting Mark tease him, but if nothing else Huan had to go to training. So eventually, Sören began to urge Mark on, and after letting him beg for awhile, Mark finally took Sören, with Sören laying on his back, letting out a "yes" when Mark was all the way inside.
Mark rested there for a moment, the two of them looking into each other's eyes. Sören hoped Mark could see the trust in his eyes, just as he could see the love and desire in Mark's own. Sören reached up to stroke Mark's face, reached to tuck a lock of hair behind the pointy ear and stroke the tip as if to say I accept you as you are. And then Mark took Sören's face in his hands and kissed him hard, taking his first few thrusts, slow and sweet. When they pulled apart, lips lingering, Sören whispered, "I love you."
Mark put one hand on Sören's heart, and pet Sören's curls with the other. He kissed the top of Sören's head, rested his face in Sören's curls for a moment, rubbing his nose in them, before bringing his head back down so Sören could see his face again. "I love you too."
Now it was Sören's turn to grab Mark and kiss him. They kissed and kissed, Mark thrusting slowly, Mark's hands running over Sören's body.
For all the sweet, slow, languid pace of their lovemaking, the tenderness between them, their kisses were hungry, like they were trying to devour each other. Eventually, hungry kisses gave way to harder thrusts, and Sören matching Mark's rhythm, rocking his hips back at him, crying out for more. Sören's frantic pleas brought out the animal in Mark, fucking hard, bed slamming against the wall, the slap of Mark's balls almost as loud as Sören's screams and Mark's deep, primal grunts and growls.
Just before they could come, Mark slowed down, letting them hang on that edge, panting, trembling. Mark grabbed the rose again and let it play over Sören's body, Sören sucking the fingers of his free hand again, howling around them. Mark shivered with each slow thrust, clearly tormenting himself as much as he was tormenting Sören. But it was luscious, exquisite torture, Sören's body electrified, as sensitized as it had ever been. And when Mark finally gave in, pulling Sören close to him and pounding him hard, Sören roared as his orgasm crashed through him, almost sobbed as his body sang, cock and prostate pulsing together, contractions like a force of nature.
"Mark," Sören cried out. "Oh god, Mark... Mark, I love you... Mark, elskan mín, ástin mín..."
"Sören." Mark's orgasm was right behind. "Sören! I love you, Sören, dýrmætur, elsku strákurinn minn...."
Mark gasped for breath as he shook, still spending into him, and finally, made soft moans and sighs as his body quieted. Mark twitched at the occasional little aftershock, which made Sören giggle.
They held each other in that sweet space of afterglow, a little place for the two of them to just be, perfectly safe and content, lost in their love for each other. Sören didn't want to get up, just wanted to lay in Mark's arms, their legs entwined, listening to Mark's heartbeat, breathing each other's breath. But he looked at the clock and they really needed to start getting ready. And on top of this, now Huan was making "need to go out" noises.
Mark pulled clothes on. "I'd take you to school, but -"
Sören nodded. "You have to bring Huan to service dog class. It's OK, Nico and I have a routine and I didn't call him to change plans."
They lingered at the door, hugging and kissing, and then Huan whined again. Mark patted Sören's back. "My place tonight?" Mark asked.
Sören nodded. "Seven OK?"
"Seven works for me." Mark grinned. "I'll make you feesh." He tousled Sören's curls, and called out "Love you!" as he was off.
Sören scrambled to get ready, taking a quick shower. The buttplug felt raunchier than usual with how well-used he was, and Sören tried to rein in the shit-eating grin on his face before he left the house, feeling like his face gave too much away.
Then he remembered that his phone went off last night, and just before he could step out the door to walk over to Dooku's, he decided he better check the phone in case it was the school calling or even Dooku calling.
It was neither. Sören's eyes widened when he saw the name attached to the number: Sharon, a girl he'd met in Sausalito over the summer and had came very close to sleeping with, turning her down when he realized she was too under the influence to consent. Sharon, a lifelong resident of the Bay Area, was seeking her fortune up the coast, and Sören had told her to get in touch with him when she'd settled in somewhere. There had been more flirting on their last encounter, and the prospect of becoming friends with benefits with Sharon was what prompted Sören to want to have a talk with Mark about an open relationship - if it hadn't been Sharon it would eventually be someone else, as Sören had an appreciation for beauty and a wandering eye. Sören hadn't had that discussion yet with Mark because the relationship was still new enough that he had concerns rocking the boat. But they were also approaching the point where Sören couldn't use that excuse much longer, and he knew it was probably better in the long run if he opened up about his difficulty with monogamy sooner rather than later.
He listened to Sharon's voice mail. "Hi, Sören! This is Sharon Walker, that girl from the Bay Area you sort of messed around with over the summer. I'm calling to let you know I'm up in Portland, I have a place now, and I'd really like to see you again. Plus you still have that notebook with my stories, and I've written more lately that maybe you might want to take a look at. Anyway... give me a call and let me know when you'd like to get together. Weekends are best for me but there's some wiggle room. Hope you're doing well, bye!"
Sören thought about calling her back right away but he checked himself because it was still fairly early in the morning and he didn't know what kind of hours she kept, plus he needed to go over to Dooku's for his ride, plus he felt he needed to have The Non-Monogamy Talk with Mark before he called Sharon, in the interest of fairness to all three of them. So he would wait.
Just before he could knock on Dooku's door, Dooku opened it. He was already ready, in a trenchcoat and fedora over his usual suit and tie. It was only early October but it was already brisk, though Sören was fine in a light jacket.
"Good morning," Sören said.
Dooku just gave a nod, did not even say "good morning" back. Sören raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
They got in the Jaguar. The drive was awkward silence and Dooku kept his eyes on the road. Dooku looked fairly disgruntled, and Sören thought about asking if something was wrong, but knew from experience sometimes if something was wrong, asking made it worse.
It was when Dooku pulled into the Starbucks drive-thru, as he sometimes did, and actually ordered coffee for himself - black, two sugars - that Sören finally had to say something. Dooku went to Starbucks more for Sören, as Dooku didn't like their coffee generally, complaining it tasted burnt. Dooku would order something like a hot chocolate sometimes, but not usually in the morning first thing. So the fact that Dooku was getting coffee here gave Sören pause.
"You OK?" Sören asked. He noticed the tightness and weariness in Dooku's face. "Rough night?"
Dooku waited till they had their coffee in hand and were back on the road to respond. "I heard you."
It took Sören a few seconds to get what he meant. Sören facepalmed so hard he spilled coffee on himself. "Oh. Oh god."
"Yes, there was rather a lot of that," Dooku quipped.
Sören facepalmed harder. He ran his hand over his face, over his mouth, and cleared his throat, his face burning. "Er."
"Er indeed." Dooku sipped his coffee, still looking mildly irritated.
"I. Ah. I'm sorry." Sören wasn't sorry for the wonderful sex he'd had with Mark, but he felt bad that Dooku's rest had been disturbed by it. "I'm going to Mark's house tonight. And, ah... we'll, ah, keep it down next time." Sören had doubts in their ability to do that, since he and Mark were both screamers.
"You shan't, so I will invest in a pair of earplugs." Dooku sipped his coffee again, brow furrowed.
"I. Ah." Sören facepalmed again. "This is so awkward."
"Quite."
_
Dooku said nothing else for the rest of their journey to the Oregon State University campus, and Sören wanted to crawl in the nearest hole in the ground and die when they got there.
Sören tried to not let it bother him, or at least not enough where his students could see it, but when their break rolled around, before Sören could exit the classroom Karen said, "Hey Sören, got a minute?"
Sören took a few steps backward and turned to face Karen. Today she was in a light blue blouse with darker blue slacks, hair worn loose, a multi-strand lapis beaded necklace. He liked the way the blue went with the blue of her eyes. "Jæja?"
"Are you OK?" Karen folded her arms.
Sören neither wanted to lie to her nor did he want to get into the intimate details of his personal life. "Not really," he said.
"Something you can talk about?"
Sören searched for words that would satisfy Karen's helper instinct without going into awkward territory. "I think I may have pissed off my best friend."
Karen clearly wasn't expecting that, blinking, her eyes widening. "Oh."
Sören nodded. "I can't get too much into it, but he's annoyed with me right now." Sören frowned.
"Well... is it something unforgivable? Or -"
"Probably something minor. More of a nuisance. It's just..." Sören ran a nervous hand through his curls. "He's been really, really nice to me and I feel like I'm already inconveniencing him a lot without, ah... also being a pain in his ass. Which apparently I was. I apologized already but, I don't know. He needs something more."
"Mmm." Karen nodded.
Then the lightbulb went off over Sören's head. "I was going to get him a thank-you present anyway for something he did for me, but now I might as well get off my ass and do that today." Then Sören frowned again. "Shit. He drives me to and from school, and I don't want to ruin the surprise, so I guess I'll take the bus or an Uber -"
"I can drive you?" Karen cocked her head to one side.
"I don't want to be a burden -"
"No, you won't be. I wouldn't offer if it was going to be a problem."
"You sure you want a crazy guy in your car?"
"I don't know, that might be fun." Karen grinned.
Sören grinned too. "OK. Well... thank you. I, ah. I insist on giving you gas money -"
"No need."
"I said I insist." Sören rubbed his chin. "This is a guy who has everything. Do you have any suggestions of what to get him?"
"I don't know, but I myself always appreciate sweets."
"He works out..." Boy, does he ever. Sören's mind immediately recalled the majesty of Dooku shirtless, sweaty, working on putting together furniture. "And he tries to eat well, but he has made me baked goods before..."
"A little indulgence now and again is good for the soul."
"Well then... what kind of sweets do you like? I like things like licorice but that's a Scandinavian thing and more of an acquired taste."
"I like fudge," Karen offered.
"Hm. OK. I don't know where around here sells fudge -"
"I do. Because I needed to know that shortly after I arrived here." Karen gave a sheepish little smile. "So I'll take you to get fudge. The candy shop is right in the same plaza as a drugstore where I need to run a few errands, anyway."
"OK, so we'll do that. Thank you, Karen."
"You're welcome." Karen beamed.
Sören thought about calling Dooku's cell to let him know he didn't need a ride home this one time, but then he realized it might be better to explain that in person, so he began to walk across campus, and it was a bit of a walk. He arrived at Dooku's classroom just as Dooku was ducking out of it, and Dooku paused in his tracks, once again tensing up around Sören.
"Hi," Sören said.
"Hello."
"Hi."
"Hello."
"Hi."
"Hello."
"Hi."
"Salutations."
Sören chuckled. Then he said, "Where you headed, canteen?"
Dooku nodded.
"Walk with you," Sören offered.
Dooku nodded.
They walked together in that direction. "So, ah, I'm sorry, again..." Sören said.
"Sören, if it's all the same to you, I'd rather you not keep bringing it up." Dooku's brow furrowed, his face tightening once more. "Let's just... forget that happened."
"All right. Well anyway... I'm getting a ride home from someone else today."
Dooku stopped walking, and he glared at Sören. "You needn't go out of your way to avoid me -"
"It's not that." Sören shook his head. "I need their opinion on something I'm buying." That wasn't a lie, nor was it entirely the truth, but it would suffice.
"I see. And you're... going to Mark's later."
"Why don't you come over for a bit before then? I leave at 7, I should be home by 5. Or I can go to your place. Whichever."
"You can come over," Dooku said. "Besides, I laundered that new bedding, I have to give it to you sometime."
"Thank you."
And then, as if things hadn't been awkward enough, a couple students passed by, glancing at them, and Sören heard one of them say to the other, "Oh yeah, they FUCKIN'."
Sören hoped to god Dooku didn't hear that, not wanting to pour gasoline on the fire. Sören's face burned. It was not the first time people had assumed they were a couple, though it was the first time Sören had heard that assumption made within earshot on campus. It wasn't a secret that Dooku drove Sören to and from school, Sören having been seen getting in and out of his car, and they not-infrequently took breaks together when their schedules aligned, and there was a familiarity they had with each other when their paths crossed on campus that Dooku didn't allow most people. These things, Sören knew, could look like a relationship to people. But it wasn't.
We're just friends. Sören felt that little ache again, the one that crept in from time to time, remembering earlier in the year when he had hoped it would be more. He'd let those hopes die, when Dooku gave no sign of being interested. And it had been months. They were all they were ever going to be to each other and that was that. Sören didn't want to torment himself.
But comments like that reminded him of when he had entertained those hopes. And today of all days, when he'd potentially strained that friendship with causing a sound nuisance - as he had once done with his music - he did not need that ache in his chest.
_
Karen Swanson drove a sensible white Toyota Corolla, and Sören's nostrils twitched at the pleasant vanilla air freshener.
Sören felt a little nervous about riding with her, for a few reasons. His accident last December had made him hyperconscious of road safety - Mark and Dooku were good drivers and he felt safe in a vehicle with them, riding with a stranger made him wary, even though he knew Karen had a good head on her shoulders and wasn't likely to engage in reckless or negligent driving. He also didn't want students to gossip - as clearly now some students were gossiping about him and Dooku - and he worried about inadvertently saying or doing something that would make Karen feel uncomfortable.
But, Karen's smile as she got in the driver's seat put him more at ease. Sören smiled back.
"Where do you live?" Karen asked.
Sören gave her the street address.
"Oh, that's a nice part of town! And actual houses, yeah?" Karen glanced over at Sören, who nodded. "You rent or own?"
"Rent," Sören said. "I live next door to Professor Dooku, and he owns."
"Oh!" Karen's eyes widened, putting two and two together. "When you said that you pissed off your best friend, and he drives you to and from school, and a couple days ago you mentioned he's the one who drives you... he's your best friend?"
Sören nodded solemnly. "Since December, thereabouts. We've lived next door to each other longer than that but it's really only been since then that we've been close friends."
"You must have a bit of a story."
"Jæja, it's... kind of a long story." Sören breathed a little sigh.
"Well, we've got time."
"And I've got issues." Sören gave a nervous laugh.
Karen looked a bit stung by that, and Sören felt bad - he hadn't wanted to come off as defensive, or wanting to shut down friendly interest. He explained, "It's a bit of a tragic backstory on my part and it's one of those things I'm uncomfortable telling people I don't know well."
"It's related to the accident, wasn't it?"
"Yes, it was."
Karen raised an eyebrow. "Were you drinking? On drugs?"
"No." Sören frowned. He felt a little annoyed that was her first assumption, but on the other hand he couldn't blame her because in many cases it was that which caused an accident, especially in December when holiday season arrived and with it people tended to drink more. "It would have been better if that was why, honestly. The cause of the accident was far worse."
Karen's eyes widened, and a moment of silence passed, as if Karen understood somehow that whatever it was, was pretty bad. Then finally she patted his arm - Sören felt gooseflesh under his jacket and long-sleeved shirt - and she said, softly, "Well, if you ever do want to talk about it, I'll listen. I know a few things about tragic backstories myself."
"I appreciate that." Sören winced. "I mean, the offer to listen, not that you've seen some shit too." He realized that "old soul" feeling to her was probably the touch of grief - something he understood quite well.
"I knew what you meant."
There was a few more moments of quiet, and then Sören said, "I hope when you bring me home it isn't going to be too out of the way for you."
"I live on the opposite end of town -"
"Oh shit, really?" Sören frowned, feeling a pang of guilt.
"Yeah." Karen told him the name of the street. "In the apartment complex."
Sören went from guilt over her travel distance to the "it's a small world" feeling. He laughed softly. "Oh my god, I was there before I moved to where I am now. That was my first apartment out here. With the beds in the wall... what do you call them... Murphy beds?"
Karen nodded.
"Jesus," Sören said. "That's a blast from the past."
"It's a nice place," Karen said. "The rent's not too bad."
"Já, it's very decent. I'd still be there, but I wanted a yard, a little more space." A little more of a feeling like I had a home like a responsible adult, instead of just a place to crash. Sören smiled at the feeling of nostalgia over when he first moved into his house, how good it felt to finally do something so grownup, after being seen as the family fuckup for years. It had made Seth ruining it all the more bitter... but he was reclaiming that space again, thanks to Mark, and Dooku.
"We're here," Karen said, pointing to the shopping plaza they were about to turn into.
Karen took him to the candy shop first, and Sören's eyes widened, giving a little exuberant squeak and clapping at the wall-to-wall candy.
"You're like, well... a kid in a candy store," Karen said.
"I've never been in a candy store before."
Karen gave him a little swat, which sent a frisson down Sören's spine. His face burned, not wanting to react to her touch this way. "Are you bloody serious?"
Sören nodded. "Afraid so." Sören started walking around, feeling almost a little overwhelmed at all the different varieties. "Wow," he said in a hushed tone of voice.
"Do they not have candy stores in Iceland?"
"I'm sure they do, but when I was growing up we, ah, didn't have a lot of money." What there was would have gone to liquor, not candy, Sören thought to himself bitterly, remembering Katrín and Einar's hard drinking. And they were violent drunks. "Then I went through a bit of a health nut phase when I was a med student..."
"You were a med student?"
Part of the past Sören didn't like talking about, but here it was. "Made it up to my internship. I, ah." Sören looked down. "Couldn't handle people dying. Anyway, when I was in Toronto, it didn't occur to me to try to find a candy store. This is a nice little discovery. Of course, now I want to try everything." Before he could stop himself, Sören found himself blurting out, "That seems to be part of my problem in life... I want to try everything." He thought about all the sex he'd had with women and men over the years, and the beautiful Karen in close proximity to him was reminding him that he hadn't had sex with a woman since he lived in Canada, and he was starting to feel that itch again. He really wanted Sharon to scratch it, remembering her bright blue eyes, fuzzy blonde dreadlocks, her tan lines, the small, pert breasts with pink nipples he'd enjoyed sucking on before he'd found out she was too intoxicated to consent that night and had gone home sexually frustrated out of his mind. He hoped Mark wasn't going to pitch a fit when he told him.
Sören felt an icy hand claw his stomach. If he hadn't already had the tension with Dooku this morning, he'd be more willing to talk to Mark about an open relationship tonight. But he'd reached his limit for awkward conversations for the day, so he was going to have to put it aside till tomorrow. But not later than that. Not just because of the possibility of seeing Sharon soon - naked - but also because the longer Sören waited to tell him, the more he was going to feel like he was being dishonest in some way.
And of course you still haven't told him about your suspicion that you're Fëanor, Sören's inner critic nagged.
That's like defusing a fucking bomb, and I am still not ready for that. Sören felt his face scowling.
"You OK?" Karen put a hand on his shoulder. Again, Karen's touch sent a shockwave through him. "I've never seen anybody look that irritated at jellybeans before."
Sören's laughter rang out. "It's not that. My brain likes to remind me of stuff at inconvenient times. And jellybeans?" Sören decided he wanted a bag for himself.
Making another round of the candy shop, Karen led Sören towards a selection of containers of fudge, many different flavors. "Here's the fudge I suggested."
"Ooooh. That looks good."
"Do you know what kind of flavors he likes? That could help narrow it down."
Sören glanced around. Then he picked up a container of dark chocolate cherry fudge. "He'd probably like this. When he occasionally indulges himself, he likes cherries and he prefers dark chocolate to regular chocolate." His eyes are like dark chocolate. Sören felt a little flutter in his stomach and immediately smacked that thought away.
Sören didn't stop there. After selecting the dark chocolate cherry fudge for Dooku, he grabbed a container of peanut butter fudge to share with Mark, and then he said to Karen, "What do you like?"
"Everything," Karen said.
Mind, gutter. Sören did not want to have debauched mental images of his teaching assistant.
"If I had to narrow it down, caramel fudge is always lovely," Karen said.
"Well then." Sören picked up a container of that too, and lugged his haul to the cash register.
"Sören Sigurðsson, you do not have to buy me anything," Karen said.
Sören shrugged. "You're a joy to work with - you don't know how relieved I am that I got a nice TA, not a pain in my ass - and it was kind of you to drive me out of your way today. I still insist on giving you gas money."
"But -"
"No buts."
Karen huffed, but her eyes were twinkling, and her glare became a grin.
After the candy shop, Karen had to go to the drugstore as she'd said earlier. Sören considered waiting in the car, but he decided going in wouldn't hurt. As Karen went off to pick up whatever she needed, Sören took the opportunity to stock up on extra lube - he and Mark went through a lot of lube - and then Sören's eyes caught a display of bubble solution. When he had been very young, when his mamma was still alive, he remembered blowing bubbles, how much it delighted him to watch the rainbows in the bubbles, watch them float on the wind. He and Dag had a bit of a competition to see who could blow the biggest bubbles, with Dag figuring out he could make them bigger if he waved the wand in the air instead of blowing into it.
He had already indulged his inner child with a bag of jellybeans - though he'd be working through that and his other sweets for awhile, he didn't like to overindulge where sweets were concerned - and now he added a bottle of bubble solution, that came with a wand inside. Why not.
Karen was ready to check out at the same time he was, and Sören let her go first. Sören tried not to peek, feeling like he was prying, but he noticed she had shampoo, a pack of disposable razors, some lotion for her skin, and a set of C batteries. Wonder what the batteries are for. Sören tried to cover the lube bottle with his hand.
Of course, Karen was off to the side watching Sören's transaction, and Sören's face burned, knowing she was seeing him buying lube. But she didn't remark on it on their way out.
When Karen dropped him off at his house, Sören lingered in the car for a moment. "Thank you, again, for driving me," Sören said. "And for your fudge recommendations."
"You're welcome. It was no trouble." Karen smiled. "You were nice company, actually."
"You too."
"Maybe we could meet for coffee sometimes? Go over lesson plans..." Karen grinned. "Share 90s nostalgia."
"I'd like that too," Sören said. He handed her a bill from his wallet. "For gas."
Karen took it a bit reluctantly. "Thanks, Sören. Have a good rest of the evening."
"You too."
It was almost five - Sören was going to have no time between this and Dooku's visit; he could already see Dooku moving around in his living room. It was worse because Sören was, inexplicably, feeling a little flustered and giddy after having spent time with Karen. On the surface it was that shiny yay, new friend feeling, but he also recognized it as the same feeling he had when he started spending time with Sharon, and that was dangerous.
He wasn't yet to the point of telling Karen he was concerned about spending time with her - indeed, that conversation could be more awkward and cause more problems for their working relationship than if they just spent time together as friends - but he felt a little prickle of unease as he walked into his house.
Sören dropped the sweets and bubble solution off on the kitchen counter, and he was starting down the hall towards the bedroom to put the lube away when the knock came at the door. Sören was so flustered and feeling awkward all over the place that, not thinking, he answered the door with lube in his hand.
"Nico, hi," Sören said. "I thought I was going to your place."
Dooku looked at the bottle of lube in Sören's hand, and then at Sören, and his face went pink. "Er."
Sören facepalmed. "This... isn't what it looks like," Sören said. "I was... just about to go put this away."
Dooku came in, holding the two bags of bedding Sören purchased at IKEA. Sören took the bags with a mumbled "takk" and then he ran down to the bedroom - regretting it, as his asthma made him wheeze on the way back.
"So, what's up?" Sören asked. "I was just about to come over -"
"Yes, I know." Dooku made a face. "Beowulf decided now was the perfect opportunity to make a hairball on my rug."
Sören laughed. Dooku's glare just made him laugh harder. "Oh, Nico. You know I know those things happen, I wouldn't have freaked out if I came over -"
"I'm sure, but it's still... a matter of pride for me, anyway. So I've got some baking soda on the mess and I thought I would just come here instead of you going to my house." Dooku shrugged.
"All right. Well... sit. Coffee?"
"Coffee's fine." Dooku glanced at the armchair. "I see you got that put together."
"Yes, Mark helped me get it up," Sören said, and immediately realized how that sounded out loud, fighting back a guffaw, cheeks burning. He gestured. "You can sit, though if you'd rather put your feet up you can have the couch, I forgot to buy an ottoman at IKEA on Tuesday night."
"I'll take the armchair."
Sören made them coffee and when it was ready he brought it out, then he went back into the kitchen. He came out with his hands behind his back.
Dooku raised an eyebrow.
Sören thrust the container of fudge at him.
Dooku glanced at it, then up at Sören, then the tight, mad-at-the-world look he'd had on his face all day finally softened, his eyes smiling, a small smile curving his lips. "That... you got that for me?"
"I told you I was going to get you something to say thank you for the mirror. And I figured it ought to be today because... never mind."
"That was very thoughtful of you." Dooku patted Sören's knee as he sat. "Thank you."
"I hope you like it. There were so many flavors!"
"You know my tastes well," Dooku said, opening the box. "Dark chocolate and cherry."
"I know your tastes pretty well, já." Can't figure out your sexual orientation for the life of me... "Though if you have any other preferences, next time I go to that shop I might surprise you."
"I like sucre à la crème," Dooku said.
"What is..."
"It's brown sugar fudge. French Canadian recipe. I had some when I visited Montreal years and years ago."
"You'd think I'd know about that, having lived in Canada," Sören said, "but then, Montreal is pretty different from Toronto. What were you doing in Montreal, anyway?"
"Road trip across Canada one summer. Stayed a little longer in Montreal than anywhere else as a chance to practice my French." Dooku nibbled thoughtfully on a piece of fudge.
"It's a beautiful language," Sören said.
"Indeed." Dooku handed a piece of fudge to Sören. "Try one."
"Oh, Nico, I bought those for you -"
"You shared your licorice with me, c'est assez juste, ma chère petite douleur dans le cul, non?" Dooku gestured with the fudge again.
Sören thought of the way Dooku ate licorice from his hand like a pet on the way back home from IKEA, and now Sören opened his mouth. After a few seconds Dooku took a deep breath and deposited the fudge in Sören's mouth, and then Sören took Dooku's hand and gave a nibble the way Dooku had picked on him in the car. Dooku rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.
"Oh wow, that's good," Sören said through a mouthful of fudge.
"Tu n'as pas de manières, mais je te baiserais quand même."
Sören had no idea what Dooku just said, now or previously - he only knew that he had already been feeling flustered after being around Karen, and Dooku speaking French was not helping at all, hearing the gorgeous language in that deep, velvet baritone. Sören's cock stirred a little and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He needed to get Dooku to stop speaking French. "You say you speak Romanian too, já?" Sören had never heard Romanian spoken that he was aware of, but he imagined it couldn't sound sexier than French.
"I do. It was my parents' native language and I've been to Romania twice since the fall of the Iron Curtain."
"Say something in Romanian?"
Dooku had a wicked look in his eyes. "Ceva în limba română."
Sören glared. "You can be a shit yourself too, you know."
"You're still leagues beyond, Sören."
"Something for real, now."
Dooku sat back in the armchair and took a moment, collecting his thoughts. After a sip of coffee, he took a deep breath and then his eyes met Sören's and he said, "Nu ai idee că sunt profund, nebun îndrăgostit de tine și nu vreau altceva decât să fac dragoste fierbinte și pasională cu corpul tău frumos timp de ore. Vreau să te sărut și să te ling peste tot. Vreau să devorez fiecare centimetru din tine. Vreau să ling acele sfârcuri delicioase până vă veți vărsa sămânța. Vreau să te aud strigând numele meu. Vreau să te fac să vii și să vii din nou și din nou până când vei fi la una cu stelele pe care le pictezi din viziunile tale frumoase. Băiatul meu dulce, prețios. Frumoasa mea visătoare, tu, care mi-ai prins inima cu spiritul tău de foc. Mă doare să te iubesc așa cum o fac, dar nu am putut înceta să te iubesc mai mult decât am putut înceta să respir."
Sören's breath hitched. I thought Romanian would be less sexy than French and CLEARLY I WAS WRONG. His cheeks were really on fire now and his cock was nagging for attention. "I have no idea what you just said," Sören said, "but whatever it was, it sounded gorgeous." Especially in that voice. Goddamn, Nico. Sören snickered, then. "You probably just read me a grocery shopping list or a political speech or something."
Dooku sipped his coffee, not replying to that.
When Dooku's coffee was finished, he got up. "I have to finish cleaning up the gift my cat left for me," he said with an eyeroll.
"All right. Well, Nico, thank you for stopping by - and washing my new bedding - and, ah, I'll see you tomorrow morning as usual, já?"
"Yes. You will." Dooku waved on his way out. "Good night, Sören."
Sören had time to kill before Mark came to pick him up. He desperately wanted to jerk off - he knew from repeat past experience that an orgasm now wouldn't ruin his appetite for later - but he felt guilty about it, knowing he was aroused by Sharon, Karen, and Dooku, as well as Mark, and he didn't want to start down the path of fantasizing about Karen or Dooku.
He splashed cold water on his face, packed an overnight bag, and tried to distract himself by sketching. He went back to the sketch he'd started a few days ago, the bare-bones lines of a woman which he knew instantly was Karen. He continued fleshing out the sketch, but thinking of Karen flooded him with warmth and did nothing to calm his libido.
When Mark arrived at seven, Sören found himself taking Mark's cock out right there in the car and leaning across the front seat to give him head, not caring if anyone saw or not. Sucking cock was always arousing to Sören, Mark's moans and his facial expressions during sex were very arousing to Sören, and now Sören came untouched when Mark came in his mouth, turned on and pent up as he was.
Mark laughed as he got on the road. "Someone was hungry."
"Starving." Sören licked his lips, savoring Mark's taste. "I'll want seconds, later."
"And no doubt thirds. And fourths. And fifths."
Sören smiled. "Of course."