"You're looking much happier these days."
Anthony smiled at Diana Traynor, his executive assistant. "I have a lot to be happy about."
"Love looks good on you." Diana nodded. Then she waved her fingers and Anthony noticed a glittering diamond ring.
"Oh, did your boyfriend finally pop the question?" Anthony asked, feeling like an idiot because that should be obvious with the ring; once again he was reminded of how awkward he was in social situations outside the courtroom.
"Lawrence did."
Anthony's head snapped back - Diana had never mentioned her boyfriend's name before now. While it was possibly a coincidence, he knew London's legal community was a small world, and... "Lawrence Okonkwo?"
"You know him!"
Anthony's jaw dropped. Lawrence had been part of his former friends group, and one of the people to ghost him after his accident in 2015. He and Lawrence had made jokes about being the token minority in their circle of friends - Anthony was the token gay, Lawrence was the token black - but after everything the jokes felt less like jokes and more like reality; his former friends group had been fairly conservative-leaning and Anthony often wondered if he and Lawrence had both been politely tolerated for the sake of looking not prejudiced, but never really accepted. Lawrence had been the least bad out of his old crowd, and for that reason Anthony had felt the most disappointment when Lawrence wasn't returning his calls, compared to the others. He'd hoped from time to time that Lawrence had found better people to associate with. Diana was a step in the right direction, but... he was very nervous about the prospect of seeing Lawrence again, after all this time - and that was without factoring in Sören's reaction; Anthony's old friends group was anathema to Sören, and rightly so. Anthony almost wanted to back out of the offer of getting a bite to eat together, but he knew that would sound rude. "Yes, I know him," Anthony said, keeping his tone even and neutral while his stomach churned.
"Would you and Sören like to go on a double date for brunch? Maybe this Sunday?"
"Sure." Anthony nodded, trying to keep smiling even though he felt like he was chewing broken glass. Fuck me.
As much as he really didn't want to deal with Lawrence and potential awkwardness, he was going to make himself do the brunch and get it done and over with.
Sören also looked mellow, which was good - he'd been afraid of Sören walking into the restaurant with his "war face" and bothering Diana regardless of whether or not he was rude to Lawrence.
Diana and Lawrence were already sitting at a table by the window when they arrived. Lawrence was still as bald as ever, and wearing an old-fashioned grey cabbie hat on this chilly day. It was raining again, and Anthony paused a moment to watch the seagulls hunting for worms in the rain before he continued the rest of the slow journey to the table, limping along on his cane. Lawrence rose from the table when he saw Anthony and Sören approaching, and put out his hand. "Anthony, Sören. It's good to see you again."
Sören gave a half-hearted "fuck you" sort of shake, while Anthony's was exactly the same as what he gave his clients or colleagues. "Hello, Lawrence." Anthony wasn't going to repeat the "it's good to see you again" statement, since it wasn't entirely true. He and Sören sat down, and Diana passed them menus.
"May I recommend any of their omelettes," Lawrence said as they opened their menu, "and they make very good egg and sausage sandwiches."
"How's the full breakfast?" Anthony asked, glancing at the menu.
"Not bad," Diana said. "Greasy."
"All right, I'll have that."
Sören snorted. "Beans on toast?"
"...Yes." Anthony affectionately rolled his eyes and tousled Sören's curls. "You've been here how many years now and you're still horrified by beans on toast?"
"Don't your people eat rotten shark?" Lawrence gave Sören an amused look. "How are you complaining about beans on toast?"
"I don't eat rotten shark." Sören couldn't resist, giving Anthony a leer. "Just regular shark." Then his face got serious, and Anthony braced himself - Sören had promised to behave, but his concept of "behave" was probably a bit different than what Anthony intended. "I'm sure Trisha and Vincente have told you all about how gross Icelandic food is."
"Actually..." Lawrence put down his menu, took a sip of coffee, and then leaned back in his chair. He exhaled, rubbed his face, and looked at Anthony.
Oh shit, here we go. Anthony wanted to bolt. This was exactly what he'd been afraid of. He glanced over at Sören, trying to communicate did you have to bloody go there with his eyes - he wasn't thrilled with how Trisha and Vincente had treated him either, but he was hoping not to turn this brunch into a disaster.
Lawrence looked in Anthony's eyes. "I've not spoken to either of them in about a year."
"What." Anthony blinked slowly - he wasn't expecting that response.
"Yeah." Lawrence gave a bitter chuckle as he had more coffee. "Or the others. Jack decided to do blackface at a Halloween party and Trisha thought it was hilarious. She called him the n-word and everything. Someone e-mailed a video to me to show me what they're really like. They didn't have the bollocks to do this with me present, you see, but I realized this was how they felt the entire time. They just used their association with me to give the illusion they're not completely bigoted twats."
"Jesus Christ." Anthony felt sick. "I'm... I'm so sorry."
"I'm sorry too." Lawrence scowled. "I mean it. About everything. I should have pressed harder for them to knock it off when they were giving Sören a hard time. I... should have returned your calls, after the accident. I was a bloody coward, knowing they were arseholes, but I felt like I needed some allies in the legal community -"
"Right, I get that." As someone who had come of age when homophobia was still rampant, Anthony's own experience was somewhat similar. He'd been willing to accept their friendship, flaws and all, because they were the first friends he'd had, after Mark. He didn't know they were that bad, but somehow he wasn't surprised.
"And I didn't ring after I fell out with our old crowd because... I thought you'd be pissed at me. Diana tried to encourage me to call you, but..."
"I get that, too." Anthony nodded. "To be honest, she was probably right, I don't know that I would have been very receptive if you'd suddenly rang me out of the blue."
"I fucked up." Lawrence's eyes were sad. "I'm sorry -"
"You... don't need to keep apologizing." Anthony felt for him, any anger and hostility towards Lawrence now directed at their former friends for being disgusting racists. "We all make mistakes. Like you said, you felt you needed allies. I've been there too. We live and learn."
Sören nodded. "They're garbage. But I can't even say I'm glad you figured it out, because what a way to find out."
"Yeah." Lawrence sighed. "It hurt, a lot. It still does, they were such a big part of my life for years." Their eyes met again. "That included you, once upon a time."
Anthony raised an eyebrow. He had a feeling where this was going.
"I'll understand if you... say no. I will. Truly. Like I said, I was in the wrong for ghosting you after the accident, I was in the wrong for not having your back when I saw them being twats to Sören. But... if you'd like to start over and be friends again..."
Anthony got up. Diana gave him a concerned look, as if she was expecting Anthony to leave, but he held out an arm. Lawrence got up and gave Anthony a hug.
"You ready, mate?"
Anthony nodded at Lawrence, and looked back at the red Vespa scooter. He wasn't entirely ready, truthfully, but he knew he was about as ready as he was ever going to get.
Lawrence and Diana had spent the last several minutes showing Sören and Anthony the mechanics of how the Vespa worked - how to get in, how to turn it on, how to make it go forward, how to make it stop. It wasn't that dissimilar from driving a car, but because it was a different build of vehicle, they still needed the motions demonstrated. Now Anthony was going to be doing it himself, riding to the end of Lawrence and Diana's street and back.
It was May now, Lawrence had invited Anthony to try his Vespa after the brunch and only now had Anthony worked up enough nerve to do it... and after weeks of research. While riding a scooter was more dangerous in the sense that there was nothing between the rider and the road if an accident happened, which made severe injuries more likely, Anthony also felt it was less dangerous because it was smaller and easier to maneuver. Being behind the wheel of a larger car that had not been able to get out of the way in time to avoid being crashed into by Justin Roberts's car was the thing that gave Anthony the most panic about driving a car again. He felt like he had more control with a smaller scooter. He was still nervous as hell - he wondered if he was going to choke, which would be humiliating - but he was willing to try.
"I'll go first," Sören said, seeming to pick up on Anthony's anxiety. "I've never done it either, so if you see me doing it and it's fine..."
"Thank you." Anthony put his free arm around Sören and gave him a squeeze. That would help a bit. Big brother taking care of me, Anthony thought to himself with a fond smile, remembering their shared dreams of "before" - or whatever it was - and the kinky roleplaying that had come out of it.
Sören tousled Anthony's hair. With a grin he took Lawrence's helmet from Diana's hands, put it on, and made fingerguns before he climbed onto the Vespa. Watching Sören step on, Anthony was once again grateful that the scooter was designed to have both feet in front of him - riding something motorcycle-style, where he'd have to swing his leg over to get on and off, was difficult with his handicap.
Sören started the scooter, and Anthony watched intently as Sören drove the scooter forward, slowly, cautiously. When he got to the end of the street he turned, and zipped back down, faster than before, a big smile on his face. Anthony's heart raced - Sören made it look easy, and the grin on Sören's face as the scooter approached made it look fun. Instead of dreading it, Anthony felt a little rush of excitement as Sören hopped down and walked over to him with Lawrence's helmet. "Your turn," Sören said.
Anthony put on the helmet, then hobbled over on his cane. Lawrence's Vespa had an attachment - Lawrence used his when he carried an umbrella - and Anthony carefully fit his cane into the attachment, then leaned on the scooter as he lifted one leg, then the other, and leaned again as he turned himself. He felt that twinge of apprehension again, mouth dry as he sat on the seat. He turned the ignition and the scooter began to thrum.
Deep breaths. You can do this.
Anthony put his foot on the gas. The scooter began to move. It's moving. I'm driving. It's moving. Anthony felt himself not breathing again, hands shaking. The mental image came of the day he sat behind the wheel and Justin Roberts's McLaren ran a light and slammed into his Audi, the sickening feeling as the collision first started, there was nothing he could do. Anthony shoved that mental image away as hard as he could, making himself focus on the street, making himself breathe. He was driving the scooter slowly and nothing bad was happening. He was in control. Much more in control than with a big, clunky car. The end of the street was coming closer, closer... and he was there. He'd driven the scooter all the way down the street.
Anthony turned, and came around. Now he drove to where Sören, Diana, and Lawrence were waiting. He went a little faster than before - not too fast, not as fast as the scooter could go - but still, not as cautious, hesitant as he had been. His heart raced and he felt a flood of relief go through him as he came to the end of the track, and when he turned off the engine there were tears in his eyes. I did it. I fucking bloody did it.
Sören ran right over to him and gave him a fierce, tight hug while he was still on the seat. Sören helped him down, hugged him again, and gave him a big kiss. Then Diana hugged him, and surprisingly, Lawrence did too, clapping him on the back. "Good show," Lawrence said.
"Holy shit." Anthony laughed, elated. He felt like he was flying.
"Here," Diana said. She went over to where her Vespa was parked, and handed her helmet to Sören. "You guys want to do a lap together?"
Before he rode up and down the street, Anthony would have thought one was enough for the day, but now he wanted to prove to himself he could do it again. "You want to?" he asked Sören.
"Sure," Sören said.
And that was what they did. Together, they drove the two Vespas down the street at the same pace, then Sören led the way, turning to go back up, and Anthony followed behind, then passed to drive alongside him, till they got to the curb where Diana and Lawrence stood.
Anthony and Sören hugged again. Sören rained kisses over his face, while Lawrence rolled his eyes and Diana grinned. "You guys are so cute," Diana said.
"I'm so proud of you." Sören kissed the tip of Anthony's nose, and Anthony saw there were unshed tears in Sören's own eyes - Sören knew what a big deal this was, how much anxiety Anthony had about getting behind the wheel of a car again, when he used to love driving. Anthony still didn't think he could ever drive a car again without panic. But this... if he got a scooter of his own, it would mean a little more mobility and independence. A way to take back love of driving, going places, without the lack-of-control feeling that came with a car.
Anthony didn't want to cry too, touched by the way Sören understood him, accepted him, encouraged him, loved him - so he took a cue from Sören's playbook. "Hi So Proud Of You."
Sören gave him an affectionate swat.
A month later, Anthony and Sören had gotten licenses and a pair of Vespas of their own. Sören's Vespa was cobalt blue, and Anthony's was a sleek black. To celebrate, Nicholas packed them a picnic lunch and the two of them rode their Vespas out to Highgate Wood, seventy acres of ancient woodland.
They found a nice shady, secluded spot not too far in where they could spread out their blanket, and for a little while they just rested, cuddling together. It was a beautiful summer day with clear blue skies, the forest was lush and green, and it was very quiet, a welcome respite from central London where there was always background noise. The cool shade of the trees felt good in the heat, and Anthony enjoyed the subtle earthy smell of the greenery - one of the reasons why he also liked gardening. It felt intimate to share this with Sören, just being in the wild peace of nature, enfolded by land much older than they were, that had endured all this time. Anthony studied the little details of the land around them - the grasses and ferns, the shapes of leaves, the way the trees leaned, the way some trunks were thick and some were thinner, some split into "twins" and some didn't. Sören thoughtfully chewed on a blade of grass and Anthony could practically see the visions in Sören's mind's eye, knowing Sören was thinking about painting. Sören leaned against Anthony's shoulder and looked up at him, and Anthony kissed Sören's brow, began massaging and skritching his scalp, petting his curls.
"I wish I had more time to paint," Sören mumbled.
"Yeah, I know. Me too." Anthony rubbed Sören's head harder.
Sören frowned. "Even without knowing this place is ancient woodland it just... it just feels old, you know? Like there's power here. That sounds mad -"
"No, it doesn't." Anthony sighed. "I get it."
"Yeah." Sören nodded. "You do." Their eyes met.
Anthony knew then Sören was thinking about their dreams of "before". Sören opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, then closed his mouth as if he thought better of it. Anthony wondered once again if Sören had dreamt of the stone he found, and if Sören was ever going to tell him if he had. Anthony thought about bringing it up himself, but he knew that had the potential to get awkward. It was weird enough that they both had the same dreams and had moments where they were finely tuned to each other, seeming to know what the other was thinking and feeling - moments when they knew something was very wrong with the other, like the time Sören had an anxiety attack at work worrying about Anthony for no reason and it turned out that was the day Lincoln's Inn had received a bomb threat over a case Anthony was working on. The shared dreams were comforting but also unsettling, since they implied things Anthony didn't believe in - didn't want to believe in - might be true. Past lives, some sort of supernatural beings in charge of transferring souls... a world much more complex and messy than Anthony could handle.
As they leaned on each other in the forest, Anthony felt a frisson of déjà vu, like they'd done this before. They had gone on picnics before, but not here. This was, in fact, Anthony's first time coming here, though he'd lived in London all his life. But it wasn't about this place specifically, or the act of going on a picnic. There was a glimmer of a distant memory, of "the time before" when the two brother-lovers had explored a forest together, had found a spot and snuggled up together much like they were doing now, just being. A moment of perfect peace, a stolen moment of bliss, plucked out of all the duty and obligation and secrecy, not allowed to be themselves, not allowed to truly live. It was as if, here and now, they were making up for lost time.
It still felt surreal that they were back together, and it had been an entire year. Anthony remembered vividly how much he'd suffered when they were apart, spiraling further and further down; when he'd woken up in the hospital after the accident, he'd wished he hadn't. Now, in 2017, he was the happiest that he'd been in a long time. In a way, he was even happier than he'd been before the accident, and before the breakup, when he and Sören were living together in Kingston. His life felt very full. He had shed unnumbered tears, but these days his cup ran over with joy, and though he didn't believe in anything he still felt quiet gratitude. He put his arms around Sören and gave him a squeeze, savoring the way Sören felt in his arms, his beloved. I will never take you for granted, Anthony thought to himself as he kissed the tip of Sören's nose.
After they nuzzled, Sören opened up the cooler they'd brought with them and began to spread out the food. Nicholas had made them chicken salad wraps with bacon, basil leaves, and tomato, and stuffed portabella mushrooms, and an assortment of fruit slices and berries with a container of whipped cream. Sören managed to get some chicken salad on his T-shirt, and decided to take it off, saying, "It's kind of too hot anyway."
Anthony was comfortable in the shade, but then, Sören always felt like a living furnace in their bed, and he imagined that growing up in Iceland, Sören's tolerance for warmer weather was far less than his. And yet, as Sören sat there with his shirt off, lips wrapped around a bottle of water, which made Anthony think about Sören's lips wrapped around something else, Anthony wondered if that hadn't been a bit of teasing on Sören's part. Anthony couldn't help ogling Sören's bare torso, especially the way Sören's pierced nipples hardened in the cool breeze.
"You're looking at me like I'm on the menu." Sören raised an eyebrow.
Anthony grinned and put a mushroom in Sören's mouth. When Sören finished it, he crinkled his nose and bit his lower lip and Anthony's cock stirred.
At last it was time for dessert: peach and watermelon slices with strawberries and raspberries. They took turns feeding each other, dipping the peach slices and berries in the whipped cream, sensually sucking the juice and cream off each other's fingers and thumbs. With a particularly big strawberry, juice and cream dripped down Sören's throat, sliding further down to his nipple. Sören gave him a naughty look and Anthony couldn't help himself. He leaned in and licked the sweetness from Sören's skin, his tongue trailing from Sören's throat to his nipple. Sören groaned and clutched at Anthony's head. Anthony smiled at the hard-on in Sören's jeans.
With the next peach slice, Sören deliberately let the juices flow onto his nipple. Anthony licked it up, making a "mmmm" of appreciation - he was rock-hard now too. Anthony had a peach slice and Sören kissed him, sharing the taste on their tongues. Sören let more strawberry juice drip onto his other nipple and Anthony lapped and suckled hungrily. Sören moaned and bucked against him.
Anthony couldn't resist. Though they were technically in a public place and if they got caught, one of Anthony's learned friends would likely have to defend them against a public indecency charge, they were also in a secluded spot, not likely to be disturbed. Anthony's tongue slid down Sören's stomach, and he looked up at Sören as his hands reached for the button of Sören's jeans. "Yes?"
"God, yes."
Anthony chuckled and got to work freeing Sören's cock. His breath hitched when Sören's cock sprang loose - already Sören was leaking precum. Anthony lapped at it like it was part of dessert, and Sören moaned, arching to him.
Anthony sucked Sören slowly, enjoying Sören's cock in his mouth, and his reactions - the moans and sighs, Sören's smile, the way he bit his lip, the way his eyes fluttered. Anthony's own cock throbbed in his jeans, aching for relief, but he wanted to take this time to express his love on their anniversary. It seemed fitting and right that they would do this here, in the presence of nature, with their love like a force of nature itself. It was sacred and profane, and Anthony reveled in it, wanting this beautiful moment to last.
When Sören got closer, his moans got louder, and finally he grabbed Anthony's head and gently fucked his mouth, panting, trembling. Anthony moaned around the cock in his mouth, sucking harder, his balls tightening almost unbearably at the delicious sight of Sören lost in passion, fully surrendering to the heat between them. At Sören's breathy cry of "Elskan," Anthony knew he was there, and gave an encouraging "mmmmmm".
Sören threw back his head and let out a hoarse shout as he spilled into Anthony's mouth. Anthony groaned at the lightly smoky-spicy-sweet taste of him, swallowing down what he could. He gave Sören's cock a few last slow strokes with his mouth, then his tongue, getting the rest of it, and came up to kiss him. Sören sighed into the kiss, and then his face lit up with a beautiful, radiant smile that took Anthony's breath away. "Takk. Wow. Shit."
Anthony laughed. "I love you."
"Goddamn, I love you too." Sören stroked Anthony's cheek. Then he looked down at the hard bulge in Anthony's jeans. "Let me suck that gorgeous cock of yours."
Anthony got his cock out as quickly as he could, and Sören dove down and started sucking hard, greedy for it. Anthony pulled on Sören's curls, losing himself in the wet velvet of Sören's mouth. Anthony was so worked up from sucking Sören off that it didn't take long - a few minutes of Sören's talented, hungry sucking and Anthony came with a cry, shuddering. Sören drank him and they kissed deeply. Anthony rested his head on Sören for a moment, rested in the bliss and contentment.
Sören was hard again, and Anthony laughed, reaching down to brush his fingers down the shaft. "You are insatiable."
"You make me insatiable." Sören bit his lower lip.
Anthony wasn't going to object to another round, but he had an idea. He took Sören's jeans and boxer-briefs off, so Sören was completely naked - which also felt right somehow, Sören being nude in the ancient woodland, like some sort of forgotten sex god. Then Anthony took what was left of the fruit and the cream, and arranged it over Sören's naked chest, stomach, and thighs. Sören giggled, and stopped laughing when Anthony started eating it off him. Every now and again Anthony came up with cream-dipped fruit in his mouth to transfer it from his mouth to Sören's, sitting Sören up a little so he wouldn't choke. After the fruit slices and berries were eaten, Anthony licked the remaining cream and juices from Sören's body, coming up to kiss him, sharing it with him, before lapping at it some more. Even after Sören was licked clean Anthony continued to lap at Sören's flesh where the dessert had been, savoring the lingering taste combined with the taste of Sören's skin. Sören's cock was leaking precum again, and Anthony finished his dessert by lapping at the precum. Sören moaned and begged, "Please."
Anthony was hard again too. They got into a sixty-nine, sucking, rimming, fingering each other, moaning. Anthony felt ravenous for Sören, wanting to suck him and eat him for hours, but the pleasure got the better of him and soon they were both on that edge, their moans more urgent, fucking each other's mouths. With Sören's fingers inside him, Sören rubbing his tongue as he sucked hard and fast, devouring, Anthony came, crying out around Sören's cock in his mouth. A few seconds later Sören climaxed too, whimpering with his mouth full, and they took each other's hands, squeezing each other's hands as the ecstasy throbbed through them, seemingly in time with the heartbeat of the earth in this ancient place.
They snuggled, nuzzling and kissing. When the kisses got more heated, Sören's cock rose again, and Anthony laughed, delighted. His own cock hardened up again as they kissed some more, tongues teasing between kisses. For awhile they lay at each other's sides, kissing passionately as cock rubbed cock. Sören pulled off Anthony's shirt so they were both naked - Anthony hoped it was shady enough that he wouldn't burn later - and then threw caution to the wind as Sören began to kiss and lick his neck, licked at his chest hair, leaned in to start lapping his nipples, playing with one as he lashed, sucked, and nibbled the other.
They kissed and rubbed cocks for a long time, hands roaming over each other's bodies, caressing and teasing. They took turns kissing each other's necks and nipples; when Sören collected precum on his fingers and anointed his own nipples with it, Anthony suckled hard, cock throbbing, going out of his mind with lust. He groaned at the sight of precum making streamers between their cocks, and again when Sören scooped up more flowing precum and stuck his fingers in Anthony's mouth.
Then Sören produced a bottle of lube - it didn't surprise Anthony that Sören decided to bring some to their picnic, just in case, and it was such a Sören thing to do that Anthony's laughter rang out when Sören waved the bottle in his face. Then Anthony got more serious, overcome by lust. He nipped Sören's neck with a hungry growl and rasped, "I want to fuck you."
"Please, elskan." Sören nipped Anthony's lower lip.
First Sören got on all fours, while Anthony sat, his ass level with Anthony's face. Anthony grabbed Sören's hips to pull him closer, and ate at him, viciously devouring, his cock getting harder and harder at the way Sören whimpered, fists grabbing the blanket, trembling against him, panting. "Elskan," Sören moaned. "Oh god, Anthony, elskan, oh fuck, that's so good..."
Anthony growled into Sören. He slowed down his tongue, licking more gently, tenderly... languid and sensual. Sören almost sobbed. The way he panted and gasped almost undid Anthony without being touched. After a few minutes of slowly rubbing his tongue inside Sören he sped up again, tongue lashing away, and Sören rocked his hips, fucking himself on Anthony's tongue. Anthony reached down to stroke himself, and then he took the opportunity to ready himself with the lube, working it over his cock. When he couldn't take it anymore, needing to claim Sören, he slapped Sören's ass, and poured the lube into the crack of Sören's ass, watching it drip down to his passage. They moaned together - Anthony stopped stroking himself, not wanting to come right away at the sight of the lube dripping into Sören.
Sören lay on his stomach and Anthony climbed on top of him, his chest against Sören's back. When he was all the way inside he turned Sören's face to his and kissed him deeply. He reached an arm around Sören, holding his hand, continuing to kiss him as he thrust slowly. But the call of the wild in this ancient forest got to them and soon Anthony moved inside him harder, faster, the two of them rutting like animals, frenzied primal heat. Anthony bit Sören's neck and Sören rocked back at Anthony, matching his rhythm, whimpering. Anthony licked Sören's neck and nibbled the sweet spot where the neck and shoulder met, sucked on it, bit again. Sören came, crying out Anthony's name. The feel of Sören contracting and pulsing around him set Anthony off, moaning as he spent into the man he loved. It felt so right to do this here, and tears came to Anthony's eyes, feeling euphoria, the happiest moment of his life, everything in place, life so full and beautiful he felt his heart could break from it.
They held each other for awhile, underneath the trees, light streaming through the trees and dappling over them. Before Anthony could doze off, a butterfly flitted over and sat on Sören's nose. When it flew off they had a gigglefit, and Anthony kissed the tip of Sören's nose.
"I love you so much." Anthony gave Sören a squeeze. "You are my fire."
"You are my light." Sören touched his face.
Anthony didn't want to leave, but they couldn't stay there all day. The Vespa ride home was smooth and pleasant - Anthony felt proud of himself to be back on the road, albeit in a different way than before - and in the lift, Anthony pulled Sören close and they shared a few more lingering, sweet kisses, rubbing their noses together, all smiles. "Life is good," Anthony said.
"Life is fucking awesome." Sören made a face. "It would be better if I wasn't worked to death."
Anthony sighed. "Yeah." He didn't say it aloud but he was hoping for a day when Sören would retire from the National and maybe have a slower-paced life as a country doctor... maybe in Iceland. He liked the idea of living in Iceland with Sören and Nicholas and the cats, someday.
After they greeted Nicholas with kisses and hugs, Anthony finally turned his phone on - he'd turned it off while they were on their outing, not wanting to be disturbed. To his surprise and alarm, he found fifteen missed calls from his mother over the hours that he'd had his phone shut off. It was like Elaine to call more than once if she didn't get an immediate response, but it was not like her to call this many times.
Heart racing, Anthony sat on the couch and hit Elaine's number on speed dial. She answered after the first ring. "Mum, what's going on?" Anthony asked.
Elaine just sobbed, not able to make words.
"Mum." Anthony felt like he couldn't breathe. "Mum. What is it."
"Anthony, your father's dead."
chapter 10 | return to Learning To Fly | return to Other Tolkien Fic | return to index