For the last Saturday of November, Anthony drove to Sören's place to pick him up for Shabbos services. Anthony was wearing a charcoal grey blazer with matching trousers and a white button-down, and a knit kippah in lighter grey with a rim of black and blue; Sören bounded out in a black wool trenchcoat, a red turtleneck with a black sweater vest, black slacks... and a flamboyant Bukharian kippah, silk with colorful embroidered flowers on a red background, matching the red of his shirt. Anthony couldn't help smiling at Sören's headwear as Sören climbed into the passenger's seat.
"I used to wear a big, obvious Bukharian kippah in public every day - I know we don't have to wear a kippah daily but I liked it. I stopped after..." Sören didn't finish the sentence and he didn't need to; Anthony reached out to put a hand on his arm, once again feeling that surge of grief and rage at what happened, and how it had made Sören afraid and had stifled his self-expression. "Anyway..." Sören exhaled. "It feels good to be wearing this again."
"It looks good on you."
"I have a few others to rotate with what colors I'm wearing that day. They're very fabulous." Then Sören snickered. "I sound like such a stereotype, like I could have a show called Queer Eye For The Jew Guy or something."
Anthony threw his head back and laughed. "I like you," he said.
Sören smiled and bit his lower lip, which Anthony found adorable. "I like you too."
Anthony leaned in to kiss his cheek - chaste but tender - and, his own cheeks burning, he headed for the Temple.
Services were pleasant, though Anthony always found the music a little on the goofy side. At the oneg after the services when people gathered to schmooze and have refreshments, Sören was shy but friendly. People were intrigued that he was Icelandic, and he got a few questions about what Judaism was like in Iceland, which led him to explain he converted after he moved to the States and as far as he knew Reykjavik had a Chabad center. "Chabad is everywhere. I'm surprised the Chabadniks don't have a space station," Sören quipped.
Earlier in the week Anthony had asked Sören what he wanted to do for his birthday. They'd planned to visit Craig Beach and have a picnic - it snowed last night, but Sören still wanted to go. So they stopped at Anthony's house to hit the bathroom and get the cooler of food Anthony had prepared yesterday in advance. Anthony also introduced Sören to his cats - a brown tabby named Solly and a grey tabby named Shmuel, who were curious and took a liking to Sören right away. Sören got very animated, squeaking and talking baby talk to the cats in a combination of Icelandic, English and Yiddish, which delighted Anthony.
Because of the snow and the colder temperatures, the beach was empty today even though it was a sunny day. Anthony and Sören didn't mind. Once they'd found a spot to spread out a blanket and set down the cooler, they spent time walking along the snowy beach, looking out at the ice floating on the ocean, the frost-covered jetties and rock formations. The wintry beach was serene and that peace reflected in Sören's face as he took in their surroundings. "One of these days this winter we need to come back here so I can sketch, maybe paint."
"I'd really like to see your art," Anthony said. "Do you paint mostly landscapes?"
Sören nodded. "Sometimes other things, but mostly scenes inspired by back home in Iceland, or places I've been... with a touch of imagination. Magical realism, I guess you could call it. If you'd like to see my work, I could bring my portfolio next weekend?"
"Yes, please." Anthony took a deep breath, and found himself offering something that was intensely personal and private for him, since William had mocked him for it. "I could play piano for you, maybe?"
"Oh, you play piano?"
Anthony nodded. "I'm not the best in the world but I practiced a lot when I was young and had ambitions of becoming a concert pianist, until our cat had cancer, then I decided I wanted to become a veterinarian."
Sören gave him a hug. "I think it's really sweet that you've dedicated your life to helping animals. And I'd love to hear you play."
"It's a date, then."
They continued their stroll on the beach, pausing here and there to watch the waves, observe the gulls and buffleheads and white-winged scoters. They held hands and walked in companionable silence - over the last several days they'd been talking a lot in e-mail and getting to know each other, and here they didn't need to talk much, just be in the moment. Anthony was also glad that Sören wasn't one to check his phone constantly or need to ruin the communion with nature by making a Tiktok video.
Nonetheless they did snap a couple photos of themselves together after they sat down on the blanket to have their lunch - and Anthony was sentimental enough to like the idea of having a souvenir of today.
Anthony had picked Sören's brain earlier that week about food preferences, level of kosher observance, and if he had any allergies. Anthony was relieved Sören liked the spread he'd put together - an appetizer of tzimmes crostini, a course of pita sandwiches with chicken, tomato and avocado with a colorful salad of quinoa, grape tomatoes, black beans, avocado, roasted corn, and red onions with a red wine balsamic vinaigrette, and for dessert, a dairy-free tiramisu cake. He'd eaten pretty boring, simple food for the last couple of years he'd been single and it felt nice to do more elaborate cooking again and spoil Sören a little - it also had brought back fond memories of his mother, where cooking was one of her love languages.
Anthony thought of Elaine again as Sören ate the tiramisu from her recipe, wishing she'd lived long enough to see him find a nice Jewish boy - while he was still cautious about getting too attached too fast, remembering the way William had broken his heart, he couldn't help that giddy, fluttery feeling every time he looked into Sören's brown eyes.
After they'd finished eating, they made "snow angels" like they were kids again, laying back in the snow and moving their arms and legs, then they built snow sculptures - Sören made a penguin and Anthony made a small polar bear, then together they fashioned a medium-sized elk; Anthony cracked up laughing when Sören put a penis on the elk, then took it off to reshape it as circumcised before putting it back on. He was really enjoying Sören's sense of humor and fun.
It started to snow again just as they were finishing up the elk, and after another set of photos of their handiwork, they spent one last moment admiring the snow and the waves at golden hour - and Anthony admiring Sören in the warm light, snow gleaming in his curls and beard like little diamonds - before packing up and heading off.
Instead of bringing Sören straight home, they stopped at Anthony's house for another bathroom break, and Anthony made them hot cocoa. As they drank their hot cocoa they huddled under a blanket on the couch, listening to jazz. The cats joined them, purring, and Anthony let Sören give them treats so they could continue getting used to him. It was perfectly cozy and Anthony wished the moment could last forever.
On the way back to Sören's place Anthony put on Billie Holliday, and when they arrived they lingered in the car in front of the house - Anthony could tell Sören didn't want the date to be over just yet, and neither did he. But at last Sören gave him a squeezy hug. "I had fun," he said softly.
"I did too." Anthony squeezed him back.
"So we're on for next Saturday, I hope?"
Anthony nodded. "Looking forward to it."
Sören smiled, and Anthony grinned back. Once again, he gave Sören a kiss on the cheek - he wanted to give Sören a proper kiss but he had a feeling if they went there they'd end up in bed and it was a little too soon for both of them.
Eventually. Anthony tried to keep his thoughts from going there, but just from Sören touching his face he felt a frisson go through him, his cock stiffening to half-hardness. And once he was back home and Shabbos was over, he found himself "doing research" by looking at FTM porn for the first time in his life, testing the waters to make absolutely sure he was fine with Sören's original plumbing before they invested more time, and discovering he was more than fine with it - bringing himself to fast, furious climax as he fantasized about Sören riding him.
Whether it was foolish or not, the intense lust - the hunger for intimacy and touch - let Anthony know on no uncertain terms he was already smitten, and that scared him, but it was also a thrill. He just hoped Sören felt the same way and wasn't going to get bored with him the way William did.
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