Earlier in the month, Mark and Sören had made plans to spend Memorial Day weekend at Cannon Beach, in the same cabin they'd stayed in last year... when Sören had reclaimed the Silmaril. On the way there, they took a detour to Tillamook Cheese Factory.
The Oregon countryside - forests and farmland - was lush and green at this time of year, and though Mark kept his eyes on the road as much as possible, he couldn't help stealing glances at the scenery. Sören was watching it too, and apart from making the occasional points of conversation he was quiet, as if in a reverent hush. Finally Sören remarked on it. "It's almost like entering a portal into some mythological place. It feels liminal out here. Sacred." Sören chuckled. "I'm not religious in any way -"
"No, but there's power here." Mark nodded. And it felt very right that he was bringing Sören this way for what he intended. They weren't just celebrating Memorial Day weekend, but the engagement ring was ready, sitting in a box in Mark's pocket.
Things returned somewhat to normal when they arrived at the Tillamook Creamery. Huan had to wait in the car, so they couldn't be gone terribly long; Mark rolled down a window and put water in a bowl. They did have time to take the tour - it was Mark's first time seeing the factory where the cheese was made.
"I can't believe I'm watching this," Mark said, feeling a bit surreal. He'd watched monuments rise in ancient Rome, and now he was watching blocks of cheese on a conveyor belt, handed by people in gloves and hair nets and white lab coats.
"This is hardly the weirdest thing I've gotten you to do." Sören grinned at him.
"Hells, Sören."
Sören wrapped an arm around him. "It's not that bad, is it?"
"Nah, it's not." Mark smiled and kissed his cheek. "It's strangely soothing to watch."
"It is. Though it's putting me in the mood to eat some cheese now, and you know how I love my cheese, falleg grilluð ostur mín."
Mark snorted and shook with silent laughter. "Don't ever change," he said, giving Sören a kiss on the lips this time - fairly chaste, because they were in public, but the way their eyes met afterwards was full of smolder. My beautiful grilled cheese. He loved Sören's silliness.
"Ég elska þig, þú veist." Sören played with a strand of his hair, looking at him adoringly. "Og þú elskar það. Næstum eins mikið og ég elska ostur."
Mark rolled his eyes, but he was still laughing. "Come on, brat."
There was a restaurant there, as well as free samples of cheese. After having some free samples of different varieties of cheese they headed in. Sören had a grilled cheese sandwich with a bowl of tomato soup with cheese curds, and a side order of fries. Mark got the Oregon Bay shrimp salad.
They played footsie under the table, and then Sören said, "You know what we should do some night? Make fondue."
Mark smiled, delighted that Sören remembered the fondue from the night Mark seduced him and they'd made love for the first time. "We should."
"It's almost like you knew the way to my heart - and down my pants - was cheese."
Mark laughed. "Well, you are pretty cheesy."
"If I'm cheesy, does that make you cheesesexual?"
"You know..."
"I know." Sören kissed his nose. "Cheese fondue is, like, the ambrosia of the gods. We can make a big pot and get some nice crusty bread and have something to go with it."
"Sounds like you're in the mood for fondue tonight."
"If you don't think it would be too much cheese for one day."
"I think where you're concerned, it's never enough cheese."
Sören gave him a playful swat. "Says the guy who likes hair metal and owns KISS dolls."
Mark shook his head. "Yes, we can get some cheese and make fondue tonight."
"Yay!"
After hitting the shop, where Mark and Sören bought cheese, they headed out to the beach. The drive from the creamery to Cannon Beach was even more picturesque; the forested coastline was almost too beautiful to be real. When they parked at the beach, Sören retrieved his duffel bag and Mark his guitar case.
There were other people at the beach but it wasn't terribly crowded, which was a relief. They found a spot and Huan wagged and panted excitedly as Sören opened the duffel bag and spread a blanket. Then Sören took out Mark's set of KISS action figures, and Hells, the stuffed unicorn that Sören had given him at Build-A-Bear in San Francisco last summer. Mark attempted to give Sören a stern look at his KISS action figures being "liberated from slavery" once again, but he cracked up laughing as Sören arranged them on the blanket, complete with small Barbie-sized furniture like lawn chairs, and there was even a small beach ball.
Sören took some pictures of his handiwork, and then a candid of Mark.
"You're ridiculous," Mark said.
"Takk."
For awhile they just sat on the blanket together and watched the waves. Then Mark got the guitar out of his case. "You have any requests?" Mark asked.
"FREE BIRD!" Sören yelled.
Mark shot Sören a look, who gave him a wicked grin, and Mark tweaked Sören's nose. Sören leaned in and blew a raspberry into Mark's neck. "No 'Free Bird'," Mark said.
"OK. Play Jaja Dingdong."
Mark raised an eyebrow. "No."
Sören thought for a minute and then said, "I have a request, if you'll let me sing."
Mark braced himself, knowing this was going to be something trollish.
"Maggie May," Sören said, completely deadpan.
Mark gave him another look, Sören gave him an innocent face that wasn't innocent at all. But Mark wasn't truly as annoyed with it as he pretended to be - he found it strangely touching that this was Sören's song for him. Mark took a deep breath and began to play, as Sören sang in a rich, husky tenor like he was an R&B singer.
Wake up Maggie I think I got something to say to you
It's late September and I really should be back at school
I know I keep you amused but I feel I'm being used
Oh Maggie I couldn't have tried any more
You lured me away from home just to save you from being alone
You stole my heart and that's what really hurts
The morning sun when it's in your face really shows your age
But that don't worry me none in my eyes you're everything
I laughed at all of your jokes, my love you didn't need to coax
Oh, Maggie I couldn't have tried any more
You lured me away from home just to save you from being alone
You stole my soul and that's a pain I can do without
All I needed was a friend to lend a guiding hand
But you turned into a lover and
mother what a lover, you wore me out
All you did was wreck my bed
and in the morning kick me in the head
Oh Maggie I couldn't have tried anymore
You lured me away from home 'cause you didn't want to be alone
You stole my heart, I couldn't leave you if I tried
I suppose I could collect my books and get on back to school
Or steal my daddy's cue and make a living out of playing pool
Or find myself a rock and roll band that needs a helpin' hand
Oh Maggie I wish I'd never seen your face
You made a first-class fool out of me
But I'm as blind as a fool can be
You stole my heart but I love you anyway
Maggie I wish I'd never seen your face
I'll get on back home one of these days
Sören took a small bow, and Mark gave him another annoyed look that became an amused grin. "Oh, you."
Sören kissed the tip of his nose.
Mark opened a water bottle and poured it into Huan's travel dish, who lapped it up as Mark pet him. "Now something you want to play," Sören told him.
Mark thought for a few minutes, and then he started again.
I close my eyes only for a moment, and the moment's gone
All my dreams pass before my eyes, a curiosity
Dust in the wind
All they are is dust in the wind
Same old song
Just a drop of water in an endless sea
All we do crumbles to the ground
Though we refuse to see
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Now don't hang on
Nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky
It slips away
And all your money won't another minute buy
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Dust in the wind
Everything is dust in the wind
Sören had tears in his eyes at the end. Mark knew Sören knew what that meant to him, the way it expressed eons of grief, wandering alone for so long through the history of the world, losing his family, getting attached to humans and losing them in war after war, plague after plague.
"I love you," Sören said softly.
"I love you too." Mark touched Sören's face. "Here. Something... for you."
Baby, don't understand
Why we can't just hold on to each others' hands
This time might be the last, I fear
Unless I make it all too clear
I need you so, ohh
Take these broken wings
And learn to fly again
Learn to live so free
When we hear the voices sing
The book of love will open up and let us in
Take these broken wings
Baby, I think tonight
We can take what was wrong and make it right, mmm
Baby, it's all I know
That you're half of the flesh
And blood that makes me whole
I need you so
So take these broken wings
And learn to fly again
Learn to live so free
And when we hear the voices sing
The book of love will open up and let us in
Sören's tears were more obvious now, sniffling, and Mark also felt like he could cry any moment. "You put me back together," Mark said, meaning it. It was enough of a balm for his soul that Mark wasn't going to leave, even though he knew Sören's eventual mortality would rip him apart again. The years they would spend together were still a gift of fire that would keep burning, keep him warm, long after Sören was gone.
"Oh, elskan."
"Come on." Mark put down his guitar. It was time. "Let's go for a walk."
They walked down one end of the beach, Huan excitedly trotting with them. Mark and Sören held hands as they walked, and paused for a bit to admire Haystack Rock. The sun was just beginning its descent, painting everything gold, giving the seascape a magical feeling. Sören's curls stirred in the breeze, and he grinned when the sea changed to high tide and they had to scramble out of the way of the incoming rush. Sören laughed and clung to Mark.
With the light in Sören's eyes stirring him, Mark stroked Sören's cheek, and wordlessly, got down on one knee. Sören's full lips parted in surprise. Mark reached into his pocket and pulled out... a cheese curd. He offered it to Sören, who threw his head back, laughter ringing out, shaking with it. Then Sören got deadly serious as Mark reached into his other pocket and pulled out a small black box and opened it, showing the symbol of his commitment, his promise to never run away from him, the promise of building a life together as long as it would last.
Sören's eyes widened at the ring, he gasped, and then nodded through his tears. "Yes," he husked.
With a surge of wild, giddy happiness, Mark slipped the ring onto Sören's finger. There was a second one in there for his own finger, and Sören put it on Mark. When Mark rose, they kissed deeply, so hungrily that Mark fought the urge to pull Sören down into the sand and take him.
Huan was playing in the tide, and he ran over and shook off onto them, spraying them with seawater. That sort of ruined the romantic vibe, but Sören had a gigglefit. "Thanks, dog," Mark said, amused and annoyed all at once. "Thanks."
Huan yipped as if to say "you're welcome".
They came back to the blanket, kissing and nuzzling all the way. "So, ah." Sören cleared his throat as he sat down. "Do we have a date planned?"
"Soon-ish? Not too soon because we've got to get through the last couple weeks of school, but I was thinking July or August."
"If July's not too soon, our anniversary? July twentieth?"
"OK." Mark smiled; that was a nice touch.
"Shit. We'll have to do invitations and stuff."
"We'll figure all of that out over the next couple of weeks. In the mantime... you should think about a move-in date."
Sören's brow furrowed slightly - Mark knew that meant Sören and Dooku would no longer be neighbors. But Sören recovered, trying to organize his priorities - Mark understood, he knew Dooku had been a huge part of Sören's life even without their ancient history - and Mark added, "I'm sure you want Professor Dooku to be the best man."
"If that's OK with you."
Mark nodded. He tried not to think of Fingolfin right now, not wanting to put a damper on the mood.
"Also..." Sören gave him a look. "I don't want to wear a tuxedo."
"That's fine." Mark patted him, amused by Sören's aversion to formality, so much like Fëanor had been long ago, hating the pomp of royal court.
Sören looked down at his hand, admiring the ring, and then he cracked up laughing again. "I can't believe you... fucking..." Sören wheezed. "The cheese curd."
Mark grinned.
"Honestly, elskan, I would have said yes if that was all you had." Sören cracked up laughing all over again.
"Yeah, I know, you. You ridiculous, wonderful man." Mark hugged him and rocked him, closing his eyes, radiating joy.
_
They stopped at a grocery store before they went to the cabin. Mark made fondue and they had French bread to go with it, and a chicken caesar salad. For dessert, they had strawberries and whipped cream - Mark had also picked up a bottle of champagne - but that wasn't all they wanted for dessert. After Sören took a detour to the bathroom, they brought the strawberries and whipped cream and champagne into the bedroom.
They slowly, sensually undressed each other, kissing and caressing the exposed flesh. When they were both completely naked they stood together for a moment, holding each other, kissing as their hard cocks slid together. "I love you," Mark husked against Sören's neck, before taking a lick.
"I love you." Sören kissed him back, and then took Mark's hands and shyly led him over to the bed.
Mark had already opened the champagne, and now he poured them each a glass. They clinked glasses and took a sip, and put the glasses down on the bedtable.
Sören arranged a column of strawberries from Mark's sternum down to his navel, and then sprayed a lavish amount of whipped cream over his torso; Mark shivered as he felt the cool froth on his nipples. That was nothing compared to Sören's tongue, when he leaned over Mark and began to lick it off with slow, deliberate strokes of his tongue. Everywhere, all over his chest and stomach. Eating the strawberries off him, licking up the juices as they spilled. Mark's skin felt so sensitized he wondered more than once if he was going to be able to come untouched. By the time Sören had licked him clean, his cock was dripping precum and he was arched, panting. Sören took a few teasing licks at the head of his cock and then he came up to kiss Mark, hungry and deep.
"Your turn," he said.
Mark laid out the remaining strawberries on Sören's torso - and some on his thighs. He sprayed the whipped cream over them, and over the rest of the exposed flesh on Sören's chest, stomach, and thighs. He worked on Sören's body for a long time, kissing, licking, nibbling, sucking, and even after Sören was licked clean Mark continued to lap him, savoring the aftertaste. Mark reached for his glass of champagne on the bedtable, feverish, not caring about messing up the sheets, and poured it out over Sören's body. Licked him all over again. The remaining dregs of the glass, Mark dripped over Sören's cock, and then the last over the tender place between balls and ass, his tongue licking there, too. When Mark's tongue found its way there, he could taste a little soap in addition to musk and champagne, and he put two and two together, that Sören had been washing up there in the bathroom. His breath hitched.
"Sören, may I...?"
"I was about to ask. Please, eat me."
Mark dipped his tongue into the inviting pink channel and Sören howled, fisting Mark's hair. The next twenty minutes Mark feasted on him there, tongue licking the prostate fast and slow by turns, until Sören was writhing, nails scraping Mark's shoulders, panting, "Mark... please, elskan, I need... I need..."
Mark stopped licking for a moment. "What do you need, baby?"
"I need you in me."
Mark's cock leapt. He didn't want to get up, not wanting to leave Sören's body, but he reluctantly did so to fish in Sören's backpack for the bottle of lubricant. He brought it back to the bed and climbed back over him, kissing him deeply. He opened the bottle of lube and poured some over his fingers. "You ready?"
"Jesus, fucking fuck me."
Mark chuckled - he loved Sören's enthusiasm. Mark slipped a finger into him, rubbing slowly. He found the prostate right away, and at the sound of Sören's moan, the way he shivered and arched to him again, clutching him, it took Mark every ounce of his restraint to hold back and not take him right then. He kissed Sören's neck, working the finger in and out of him. One finger became two, and two became three, and when Sören was rolling his hips, fucking Mark's fingers, panting, Mark knew it was time.
"How do you want it?" Mark asked between kisses and nibbles at Sören's shoulder.
"On my back, like this." Sören touched Mark's face. "I want to look into those pretty eyes."
Mark smiled, and kissed the tip of Sören's nose. He took some of the pile of pillows beside them anyway, and had Sören come up to position them under his hips, which would help.
Mark poured lube over his own cock, and directly into Sören's channel. Then he guided the head of his cock to the puckered hole, breathing harder at the sight of it. He put in just the tip. Mark moaned, and Sören teased him, the tip going in and out, Sören's moans louder and more insistent, until Sören finally cried out, "Please."
Mark took Sören's hands and started the descent. A moment later, Mark bottomed out inside him and just rested there while Sören caught his breath. Overcome with emotion, they kissed passionately. More than any other time they'd joined thus far, this was something special. The first night of a lifetime together, once and for all.
Mark started thrusting slowly. Even as every nerve in his body was screaming to drive into Sören - that tight, slick heat was delicious - he kept himself in check, wanting to make this good for him. After a few strokes Sören cried out, and Mark knew he'd found that spot, and the right rhythm. Listening to Sören moan each time he pushed and pulled was almost too much for Mark to bear, trembling as he steeled himself to keep it slow, not to come first.
Mark reached for the other glass of champagne on the bedtable, and poured it out over Sören's chest. He leaned down to lick and suckle Sören's pierced nipples, fingers plucking one as mouth worked on the other. All the while thrusting in him slowly. Sören writhed, overcome with sensation. "Mark," he cried out. "Oh god, Mark... it's so good..."
"Yes, love." Mark nibbled on a nipple. "This is how it's supposed to be, baby." He tugged the nipple ring with his teeth, then licked slowly, tenderly. He never took the gift of Sören's trust for granted, knowing what Sören had been through. He'd taught Sören ecstasy, and he wanted to make it better and better.
It seemed like an eternity passed, with the slow thrusting, all of the kissing and licking and caressing, teasing Sören to that edge. After awhile Sören was rolling his hips back at Mark, his hands on Mark's hips, urging him on faster. Mark gave in to go just a little harder and faster, but still kept it on the slower side, easing him into it.
"Still good?"
"The best." Sören kissed him softly. He bit his lower lip and moaned.
Sören was leaking a tremendous amount of precum, and when Sören reached down to start touching himself, collected precum on his fingers and stuck them in Mark's mouth, that was when Mark lost a little of his control and started to thrust harder. And then Sören's nails were in his back. "Oh god, yes," Sören moaned. "Harder, Káno..."
With a growl into Sören's neck, Mark pushed down and gave it to him. Sören's hips rocked back at his, matching his rhythm. "Yes, yes, yes, more," Sören panted. "More, more, more, yesyesyesyes..."
They were both right there, gasping, shaking. Their eyes met and Sören made a desperate whimper that turned into a little howl. "Mark," he cried out. "Mark... Káno... I'm gonna..."
"Yes, baby. Come for me." Mark leaned down and kissed him hard.
Sören screamed into the kiss, and Mark felt him contracting, felt the spray of hot cum against his belly. He lost it - one, two, three thrusts and he was spending deep inside him. "Sören," he moaned. "Oh, god Sören... fuck..."
"Mark." Sören shuddered and let out another splash of cum, pulsing around him again. "Mark!"
Mark collapsed on top of him, toes curling as the pleasure throbbed and throbbed. Sören played with Mark's hair, and then just held him, their legs entwined, two hearts beating as one.
Mark came back to himself, feeling floaty. He kissed Sören's chest, over his heart. "Thank you."
Sören smiled at him. "Thank you." He stroked Mark's face and hair. "That was... amazing."
Mark had gone soft and slipped out of him. There was a mess to clean; he'd have to change the pillowcases and the sheets. Mark couldn't believe how much cum he'd deposited in Sören, and the debauched sight of the hole spilling his seed would have gotten him hard again if he didn't feel so utterly spent. For a moment Mark entertained cleaning it with his tongue, eating it out of Sören and bringing him to a second orgasm with his tongue, but Sören was already dozing off.
Mark watched him sleep. Looked at the ring on Sören's finger. They were doing this. He was going to stop running, or at least, stop running alone. He didn't like the idea of taking Sören away from here in time when he had to move again, knowing how attached Sören was to Oregon, but... their home was each other. And in moments like this, Mark truly felt peace, the storm inside him quiet for a little while. Something he'd lost had been returned, and it was precious to him, and he'd keep it safe for as long as he could.
Sören made him safe, too. Mark gave a content little sigh as he snuggled closer.