Anthony wakes up twenty minutes before the alarm goes off, to the sound of rain. The bedroom has that soft silver glow it gets on grey rainy days, and Anthony turns off the alarm and looks over at Sören, who's holding his blue stuffed bunny from childhood, Bláberja, eyes still closed, long lashes framing his cheeks, full lips slightly parted, hair tousled from sleep. The very picture of peace...
...until he lets out a tiny snore.
Anthony can't help smiling, and then he sighs as he watches Sören's chest rise and fall. Still breathing. Anthony thinks about how sick Sören was from COVID earlier this year, how he worried that Sören would need to go to the emergency room and was going to die on a ventilator. Sören is all the more precious to him for having almost been lost, and Anthony feels fiercely protective of him, especially here and now, with Sören sleeping safe in their nest, seeming to truly be at rest, not troubled. Sometimes Sören wakes up screaming from one of his PTSD nightmares. Sören's been with him for four years this year and time has healed his wounds but there is still more healing to do. Moments of peace like this one are sacred.
Anthony feels that tight ache in his chest, the lump in his throat, loving his precious boy so much it hurts. And he loves watching Sören sleep, peaceful like this. Part of him is tempted to just keep the shop closed today and let Sören sleep in, to hell with the world... but they can't afford that.
What Anthony can afford is a few moments to watch his beloved, to savor the sight of him resting, so sweet with his bunny. Sweet and adorable.
The feelings of protectiveness and love give way to the feeling of passion. His body starts responding to the proximity of Sören next to him, shoulders bare... naked underneath the covers. His mind's eye plays memories of their coupling, skin to skin, their pleasure, their lust. Coming for each other. The wild look in Sören's eyes as he's about to come, the breathy moans. Anthony wants to let Sören rest and not just pounce on him, and he makes himself behave.
Then Sören opens his eyes, sees Anthony laying next to him, awake, and Sören gives him a sleepy smile. "Hi Pabbi," he says, his voice husky.
"Morning, sweetheart." Anthony rolls closer and gives Sören a kiss. He starts raining kisses over Sören's face, which makes Sören giggle. That innocent little giggle brings out the animal in Anthony, who kisses Sören again, deep and passionate, morning breath be damned, and he kisses, licks, and nibbles Sören's neck. Sören moans and that makes him even hornier, grinding against Sören's thigh.
They only rarely fuck first thing in the morning - Sören isn't a morning person and there usually isn't a lot of time with their wakeup routine before they open the shop - but Anthony wants him now, and Sören wants him right back, pulling Anthony into another kiss; it's Anthony's turn to moan as he feels Sören's hands on him, caressing his chest and arms and back and ass and thighs.
Anthony resumes kissing Sören's neck, then his shoulder. Caught up in the feeling of love, he wants to kiss Sören all over, honoring him, worshiping him, and he does just that. From Sören's shoulder, he traces the flames down Sören's arm with his tongue, then back up, and nuzzles Sören's armpit before he licks and kisses it, making Sören giggle and moan again. He does the same with the ocean waves, and the other armpit.
Then he plays with the left pierced nipple as he laps and suckles the right, and turns his head to lick the left nipple, sucking it hard, tugging on it with his lips before his tongue lashes faster, as he rolls and rubs the right one. He goes back and forth between them, grinding on Sören's thigh, making Sören's nipples long and thick, glistening wet, driving him mad with lust. He once again thinks about keeping the shop closed for the day and just spending hours teasing Sören's nipples, craving those moans and gasps and sighs, but finally with a reluctant groan, he makes himself stop, sliding down to kiss and nibble Sören's stomach.
Sören arches to him, breathing harder, and Anthony moans, rubbing against Sören's leg. He starts touching himself as he kisses Sören's right inner thigh, then his left, and Sören gets more vocal, grabbing his head.
Anthony nuzzles Sören's bush, breathing in the scent of his arousal. He starts licking Sören's cock - Sören tastes muskier than usual from it being first thing in the morning, marinating in his juices overnight, and Anthony loves it. He wraps his lips around Sören's cock and slurps at it, savoring the taste of him, and Sören cries out.
"Mmmmmm." Anthony keeps sucking, and his eyes lock with Sören's, watching his reactions. He rubs himself harder and faster.
"Oh FUCK." Sören starts rolling his hips, gently fucking Anthony's mouth. "Oh god, Daddy, oh shit -"
"Mmmmhmmm."
For a few moments the only sounds in the room are Sören's soft moans and shuddery little gasps, Anthony slurping at him, and the wet squishing of Anthony pawing himself. Anthony stops touching himself before he can come, and brings his slick fingers to Sören's mouth. Anthony's cunt twinges as he watches Sören suck his fingers, moaning around them.
Sören licks Anthony's fingers clean and then he says, "You taste good, Daddy. I want to suck you, too."
Anthony gives Sören's cock a few more licks and then he rolls off and they get into the sixty-nine position, laying on their sides. Anthony takes Sören's cock back in his mouth and he moans with his mouth full as he feels Sören's lush lips on his own cock. They suck and slurp at each other, bobbing and shaking their heads, getting closer and closer until they're both right there, quivering, Sören making urgent high-pitched noises around Anthony's cock.
Anthony licks Sören again to edge and tease him, but it sets Sören off, his cock twitching, cream gushing out of his cunt as he contracts. Anthony comes with Sören's lips on his cock, groaning as he laps up Sören's thick, musky juices, savoring every last drop. Sören moans again and lets go, gasping for breath, taking a couple long, slow licks at Anthony's cock, giving Anthony aftershocks.
They sit up and kiss, tasting themselves and each other, enjoying the taste of them combined. "Love you, baby," Anthony husks.
"I love you, Daddy." Sören bites his lower lip and then they kiss again.
They hold each other for a few minutes, rocking together, then Anthony glances over at the time and says "Fuck," under his breath - they need to start getting ready NOW.
Sören takes a shower first, then Anthony does - it would save time if they showered together, but it would also be too tempting for them to fool around in the shower and go back to bed to spend the whole day there. When Anthony comes out to the kitchen for morning tea, fully dressed in jeans and a navy blue T-shirt, Sören is turning on the crock pot. They get groceries delivered now as one less errand they have to run on their day off, and Sören handled the last order so whatever's in the crock pot is a mystery.
"Roast beef for tonight," Sören says - it's one of their two nights a week to eat meat for dinner.
Anthony smiles and gives Sören a hug; Sören knows what he likes, and he appreciates all those thoughtful little gestures.
Then Sören has a tiny smirk on his face - Anthony has seen that look enough times to know when Sören is up to something, and he wonders. When Sören looks off to the side, it confirms Sören is definitely up to something, but he doesn't ask.
It's a slow day at the shop, with the rain, not so slow as to be concerning, but slow enough that Anthony is able to do some cleaning chores now, like dusting bookshelves, rather than doing it at close. Mark hasn't shown up yet, and Anthony hopes Mark will come by, that he didn't get scared away even more by Anthony's offer - but then it's still early for Mark to arrive.
At noon Sören brings him a sandwich, and when it gets closer to one PM and there's no customers, Sören tells Anthony, "I need to go upstairs for something, I'll be right back."
"OK," Anthony says.
When Sören comes back, he has a small bowl with a lid, and a spoon. Inside the bowl is ambrosia made with pistachio pudding, banana, pineapple, mandarin oranges, coconut and tiny marshmallows. Anthony smiles so hard his face hurts at the surprise - it's his favorite non-cake dessert.
"A little something I put together while you were in the shower," Sören says, "to thank you for this morning."
"Oh, baby." Anthony pulls Sören close and squeezes him tight, rocking him for a moment, feeling that fierce ache again. "You're such a good boy." He kisses the tip of Sören's nose. The smile Sören gives him in return melts his heart.
Instead of Anthony eating the dessert alone while Sören works on his tablet or something else, Sören marches Anthony over to an armchair, sits Anthony down, and then he sits on Anthony's lap, dips the spoon into the ambrosia and puts the spoon in Anthony's mouth. When Sören does a "helicopter" and feeds Anthony the second spoonful Anthony can't help but laugh, and he boops Sören's nose, then he takes the spoon from Sören, puts some ambrosia on it, and feeds Sören a spoonful. He does another, doing the "birdie" first, and now Sören is laughing too.
They take turns with the spoon, feeding each other, and when only a little bit remains in the bowl, Sören puts his fingers right in the bowl... and then in Anthony's mouth. The naughty look on Sören's face as Anthony sucks his fingers stirs Anthony's libido again, despite the intense orgasm this morning. Anthony returns the favor, scooping up the dregs with his fingers, feeding it to Sören, and watching Sören's full lips around his fingers, sucking them back and forth, gets him worked up.
They continue to scrape the last little bits with their fingers, feeding each other, sucking each other's fingers, and then Sören licks the bowl and playfully licks Anthony's tongue... as he straddles Anthony's lap and starts grinding against him. Even through their jeans, with their packers in the way, Anthony can still feel the rubbing, and he knows Sören can too, and it gets him even harder and wetter. The thrill of doing this semi-public, when someone could walk in anytime and see them playing like this... Anthony shivers.
Sören's teasing him at work again.
His mind goes back to the last time Sören teased him at work, and the promise he made. He spanks Sören's ass, making Sören cry out, and then he reaches up and grabs the O-ring of Sören's collar. "I seem to recall telling you the next time you're a cockteasing little slut at work, I'm going to drag you to the cafe and fist you until you squirt everywhere and have to clean it up."
"Jæja." Sören crinkles his nose and bites his lower lip, and keeps grinding.
Anthony throws back his head and laughs - he loves how insatiable, and incorrigible, his husband is. He gives Sören a little kiss, smacks Sören's ass again, and then he points towards the cafe. "Go in the cafe and wait for me."
Sören climbs off Anthony's lap, turns around and shakes his ass before he struts off to the cafe, whistling. Anthony facepalms, laughing again, flustered and delighted all at once. He can't believe that ten years ago he was married to a guy who left him unsatisfied and with less and less interest in sex, where it became a grudging performance. He remembers when he and Sören met in Iceland, their first night when they went back to Anthony's hotel room after the gay club, the hottest sex he'd ever had, losing count of how many orgasms he'd had... Sören showing him around Iceland and being so hungry for each other that they fucked on a hill in the grass like animals, they fucked at a waterfall. Their four-year anniversary is soon and they still can't get enough of each other. Anthony gets up from the armchair and he tries to rein in his thoughts from the memories and fantasies, to focus on what he needs to do right now to make this safe.
Anthony goes to the register and ducks underneath to the shelf of supplies like receipt tape, where he keeps the CLOSED sign. He also takes out a sheet of plain paper and a Sharpie and a roll of Scotch tape. He writes BACK AT 2 PM on the paper, and when he hangs up the CLOSED sign he tapes up the note.
Then he locks the door, hits the lights in the shop, and walks to the cafe.
Sören is already naked, and kneeling on the floor, head bowed, hands behind him. Anthony claps at the show of submission, and goes over to Sören. He puts his hand on Sören's head and it rests there for a moment, then he tousles Sören's curls. He picks up Sören's chin and makes Sören look at him, then he gives Sören's collar a tug.
"Climb up on the counter," Anthony instructs him.
Sören does as he's told - giving Anthony another sassy butt wiggle first. Anthony also undresses, then he goes over to where Sören keeps the sandwich condiments. Sören laughs hysterically as Anthony takes the oil for sandwiches and coats his hand. Sören stops laughing when Anthony spreads Sören's legs, bending them at the knee, and pours oil over his pussy. Anthony licks his lips at the sight of Sören's swollen little cock and cunt lips glistening with oil.
Anthony works Sören up to it, massaging Sören's cock with one hand, fingering him with the other, one finger at first, in and out. When Sören's moans get louder, Anthony makes it two fingers, and when Sören starts rocking his hips, fucking himself on Anthony's fingers, panting, Anthony makes it three. He goes from rubbing Sören's cock to making a V with his index and middle fingers and pinching Sören's cock with it, tugging it back and forth, as his fingers fuck Sören harder, faster.
"Daddy," Sören cries out. "Oh shit, Daddy, fuck -"
"Yeah, you want it, don't you, baby?"
"Mhm." Sören bites his lower lip and gives a delicious little whimper.
Anthony takes a deep breath and starts to push his entire hand inside, slowly. Down to the knuckles, feeling Sören wrap around him tighter, then his hand is halfway in. When he gets down to the wrist Sören screams so loud it echoes off the cafe walls. Anthony groans at the feel of Sören's tight, wet heat, the sight of Sören's cunt taking him like this... and then his other hand lets go of Sören's cock to smack what he can reach of Sören's ass. "Better not get too loud, we don't want the police here again."
"Yes, Daddy."
Sören still lets out a cry as Anthony starts to work his hand in and out, moving his wrist back and forth, slowly at first, making delicious wet squishy sounds. Anthony rubs himself against the edge of the counter, going mad with lust as Sören moans and rolls his hips, giving shuddery little gasps. "Daddy," Sören whines. "Oh god, Daddyyyyy... more, Daddy..."
"Oh, fuck." Anthony gives an appreciative little growl.
The squishy sounds get louder, sloppier, slurping as Anthony's hand fucks Sören harder and faster. Soon the wet suctioning sounds are echoing in the cafe and Sören is whimpering, and Anthony's orgasm is just out of reach, teasing himself as he keeps rubbing on the counter, electrified by Sören's act of submission and surrender, the sweet power of Sören giving himself like this. Sören begging "more, Daddy, more" when he can make words at all... when he isn't panting, whining.
"This what you want, you insatiable little slut?" The V of Anthony's other hand pinches Sören's cock harder, works it faster. Sören's juices are running down Anthony's arm, Sören is making a puddle on the counter, dripping, dripping, dripping. The juices are trickling all the way down to the edge of the counter where Anthony is rubbing himself, and when he feels Sören's juices on his own cunt Anthony comes a little - just a small release, a gentle flutter, but one that makes him moan, and Sören moans too, looking down at Anthony's bush and up into his eyes, pleading.
"Daddy," Sören cries out. "Daddy, I wanna come, Daddy, please..."
Anthony fucks Sören harder, the sloppy wet sound so loud, and Anthony has another tiny orgasm at the sound of it and the sight of Sören's juices continuing to drip down his arm and over the counter. When Sören is close, seething through clenched teeth, letting out broken little cries, Anthony tugs Sören's cock as fast as he can. "Come for Daddy," he orders.
Anthony pulls his hand out just as he feels Sören start to clench, and he watches Sören contract and spray everywhere, all over the counter, all over him. "DADDY!" Sören bites his own hand to muffle the wordless scream that follows as he contracts and squirts, contracts and squirts. Anthony stops rubbing himself before he can come - he has plans for that. He watches Sören with awe as Sören catches his breath, his entire face lighting up with a beautiful, euphoric smile. Sören starts laughing, chest heaving, toes curling, and Anthony smiles and laughs too, happy he can make Sören feel this good. Proud he can get Sören off like this - it's a power trip.
Anthony walks up and pulls Sören into a sitting position and hugs him, rubbing Sören's back, petting his curls. "Good boy."
"Oh, Daddy." Sören nuzzles Anthony's stomach. "Thank you, Daddy."
"Mhm."
Anthony lets Sören rest in his arms for a moment, then he pats Sören and says, "And now you're going to clean it up. Get down."
Sören climbs off the counter and gets a good look at the mess he made - his juices are dripping off the counter onto the floor. Sören glances over at the cleaning supplies and Anthony turns Sören's head back to him and shakes his own head. "Uh-uh." Anthony folds his arms. "Clean it with your tongue, slut."
Sören's mouth opens, then he starts laughing, and quickly composes himself. He gets down on his knees in front of the counter, and Anthony watches as Sören laps up his pussy juices from the counter like the obedient submissive slut he is. Anthony idly touches himself as he watches, turned on by Sören submitting like this - Sören tasting himself.
When Sören has licked up his juices from the counter, Anthony points to the floor behind the counter. Sören's eyebrows go up - it's not the most sanitary thing in the world, but it's not as unsanitary as they could be, since they clean that floor every day. Sören gets down on all fours and licks the little puddle of his juices like a dog, and when he's done, Anthony pulls Sören up, grabs Sören by the collar and kisses him, tasting Sören's juices for himself. Then he shoves Sören down on his knees, grabs Sören's O-ring again and pulls him forward. "Suck Daddy's cock."
Sören's lips wrap around Anthony's cock, and Anthony moans, keeping one hand on Sören's collar and the other in Sören's curls as Sören moves his head back and forth, slurping at it. It doesn't take Anthony long, worked up as he is, and soon he's right there, trembling, hearing himself moan. When Sören lets out an "mmmm" with his mouth full, Anthony flies over the edge, coming with a cry, sliding against the wall. Sören reaches out to steady him, and Anthony laughs between little gasps for breath as he pulses with delicious relief.
Sören licks his lips and Anthony pulls him up and they kiss, so now Anthony tastes himself as well.
Sören pouts. "Sucking you made me horny again, Daddy."
Anthony slaps Sören's ass. "Too damn bad, we have to get back to work. We can play again later."
Sören blows a raspberry, but he goes towards his pile of clothes, and then he says, "Uh... we better wash up, probably."
Anthony looks down at his chest hair, still damp from where Sören sprayed him, and he nods, laughing. "You're right."
They dress and go upstairs - Anthony brings the bowl and spoon from the ambrosia back with him - and each of them take a quick shower and put on a fresh change of clothes. They go back downstairs and re-open the shop, and Anthony is feeling good enough from that orgasm and getting Sören off so hard that he decides to put on "Happy" by Pharrell Williams. He and Sören are doing a cha cha in the front of the shop when Mark walks in. It's the first time Mark has been in the shop since the day he was caught washing up in the bathroom and ran out.
Anthony and Sören stop dancing, and Anthony straightens his posture and adjusts the hem of his shirt with a little clear of his throat. "Oh, hi Mark."
"Hi." Mark smiles. "By all means, don't let me stop what you were doing."
Sören and Anthony look at each other, and then Sören steps up to Mark, grabs Mark's hands, and starts dancing with him for the rest of the song. Mark looks equal parts exasperated and amused - he laughs, turning pink, and Anthony can't help but notice how gorgeous Mark is when he smiles. Sören and Mark look cute dancing together.
When the song is over, Mark bows, and then he says, "So do you... mind if I hang here for awhile?"
"No," Anthony says. "I told you yesterday, I don't mind at all if you need this as a safe place to be during the day."
Sören looks at Anthony again, and Anthony remembers the dinner offer too - and that Sören has a big dinner going in the crock pot. "When we close, do you want to come upstairs with us for dinner?" Anthony asks.
Mark blinks, like he somehow still can't believe Anthony is offering to feed him. He glances at Sören, who nods vehement agreement, and then Mark says, "O... OK. Thank you."
"It's nothing fancy," Sören says. "Just pot roast, potatoes, onions, carrots."
"That's... a feast to me," Mark says, with a nervous laugh. "A fancy feast."
"Anthony, let's adopt him as our new cat," Sören says.
Mark facepalms but he laughs with them. As Mark goes to browse, Anthony puts an arm around Sören and thinks to himself Let's hope I don't regret this later. He's a little nervous about letting an almost-stranger in his home, especially one who obviously has some problems, but it's the right thing to do and it feels right. It does, in fact, almost feel like when they adopted cats from the shelter.
Sören and Anthony offer Mark seconds, even though this means they won't have many leftovers. Mark accepts graciously. "My compliments to the chef," he says.
Sören beams with pride, then he says, "It was just, you know, simple -"
"Sören, love, take a compliment," Anthony says. "It was very good. And it was perfect on a gloomy day like this one."
"OK."
Mark hasn't talked much during dinner - Anthony knows it's probably been a long time since Mark has had a good home-cooked meal, so even though he's bristling with curiosity about Mark and his life, he gave Mark his space to relax and enjoy the food. But when Mark has cleared his second plate, Anthony gets up to collect dishes and he finds some of that curiosity slipping out as he puts the leftovers in a container. "Do you have someplace to safely store this?" Anthony asks, holding up the container. It's enough for one meal, and Anthony thinks Mark needs it more than they do.
"I have a cooler, but I would need someplace to heat it up," Mark says.
"We could let you come up to use the microwave if you want this," Anthony says.
"Are you sure? I don't want to impose -"
Anthony puts up a hand. "I wouldn't offer if it was imposing. I'll keep it in the fridge until you're ready to go home. Uh, back to the van, I mean." Anthony looks out the window - there was a pause in the rain after Mark arrived at the shop, but since they closed it started coming down again, harder. Anthony feels guilty about the prospect of Mark sleeping in his van in that, even though the van is technically a shelter from the rain; Anthony imagines it can't be very warm in there.
When the dishwasher is started, Anthony makes chamomile tea and they sit in the living room. Seamus comes out to be friendly and Mark puts down his tea to fuss over the cat, who likes it, rubbing against him and purring.
"You have nice cats," Mark says.
"They're our kids," Anthony says.
"So no... adoption of human kids, or anything like that?"
"Probably not." Anthony purses his lips, remembering when he was pregnant. The beginning of the end with Steve. Anthony sips his tea, not wanting to go there, not wanting to relive the dysphoria, and the ensuing traumatic clusterfuck. "What about you... any kids?"
"Hahaha." Mark gives a nervous little laugh. "Change of subject, please."
Anthony wonders, but he decides not to press it. He hopes that Mark isn't a deadbeat dad... or an abusive dad. Though Mark doesn't give off those kinds of vibes, but then, Anthony barely knows him.
Solly and Snúður wander out - Solly climbs on Anthony, and Snúður climbs on Sören.
"You never told me their names," Mark says.
"This one is Miss Chocolate Saltyballs aka Solly, because of a flub Sören made when he was high, the tuxedo is Snúður, and the grey one is Seamus." Anthony smiles.
"You named your cat Cinnamon Roll," Mark says, glancing over at Snúður.
Sören's eyebrows shoot up and his eyes widen. "Þú talar íslensku."
"Smá." Mark holds his thumb and index finger apart slightly. "Visited Iceland a long time ago."
"Jæja? Did you see Akureyri? That's where I'm from."
"I did," Mark says. "Like I said when we first met, I still can't believe you left there to come here, although Maine is very, very nice."
"So you've done some traveling," Anthony observes. "Are you living in your van by choice, then?" Mark does have long hair, after all, and gives off that sort of Zen hippie vibe.
"Not by choice, no. Even if I didn't feel unsafe in a shelter - guys with worse problems than me, I'd risk violence or my stuff getting ripped off, or both - you need ID to get into a homeless shelter, and some places want to see your last few bank statements like someone would possibly be lying about being broke and homeless to stay in a place like that and I don't... have either, now. I'm not in this country legally."
"You're from... Canada." Anthony tries to place the accent.
"Eh?" Mark gives another nervous laugh.
"And you can't go back to Canada?"
"Long story, but the short answer is no, I can't go back where I came from." Mark frowns into his tea.
"No family, or -"
Sören nudges Anthony. "Elskan, stop being a lawyer."
Anthony facepalms, realizing what he was doing. "Er. Sorry. I don't mean to be rude." Anthony's shoulders heave with a deep sigh. "I just wish there was something I could do to help, like I would have been willing to try to mediate with family, or see what I could do to expedite you getting into a shelter -"
Sören nudges him again. "Don't mind Anthony, he's an Aquarius."
Anthony laughs so hard he has to put down his tea. Solly meows and taps him like she thinks something is wrong. "Awwww," Anthony says, skritching Solly. "It's OK, baby, Daddy is OK."
Solly grabs Anthony's wrist with his paws and gently noms it with her almost-toothless mouth.
"Awwww, what a sweet girl," Mark says. "And... I get it." Mark chuckles. "Wow. I'm a Pisces."
"I can tell," Sören says.
Anthony points at Sören. "He's an atheist but he still reads his horoscope, and mine."
"I'm a Sagittarius," Sören says. "Even when it's bullshit, it's interesting bullshit." He makes a face. "Like the Bible."
"Yeah, I'm... not a fan," Mark says. Then he cocks his head to one side. "So you were a lawyer? Or is he just joking?"
"I was," Anthony says. "Criminal defense barrister in the UK, civil rights attorney here."
"Aquarius," Sören mutters, and sips his tea.
"What happened?" Mark asks. "It's a big career change, going from lawyer to running a bookstore."
"I got stabbed," Anthony says. "Bit of a hate crime."
There's a long, awkward silence; Anthony doesn't normally disclose that to strangers right off the bat, but then he also doesn't talk about life before the shop to most people. In fact, Mark is the first one - they don't really have many friends between the two of them, and none in Maine. Mark is the first non-relative company they've had over their place in the four years they've been together. In any case, Anthony shifts uncomfortably in his seat, painfully aware he made the conversation much darker than the topic of homelessness.
Mark finally says, "I'm sorry."
"Well... with the bookshop I'm less stressed out these days, at least." Anthony remembers the days of those adrenaline surges, then the crashes. In a way he misses it but in a way he doesn't. "I probably cut my risk for heart disease in half."
"Aw man, you're not old enough to have to start worrying about that, are you?" Mark raises an eyebrow.
"I'll be forty-two in February so yes, I am," Anthony says.
"You look at least ten years younger."
"Thanks." Anthony remembers before he went on T, and the first couple months on T, he was regularly mistaken to be in his twenties, even though he was early thirties.
Mark turns to Sören. "You're definitely not fortysomething."
"No, I'm twenty-six, almost twenty-seven," Sören says.
"We met four years ago," Anthony says, just to immediately offset any concern about their age difference. "Actually, we're coming up on our four-year anniversary in less than two weeks."
"Oh wow!" Mark applauds. "You guys seem very happy together."
"We are." Anthony turns to Sören and smiles, who smiles back. Anthony wants to give Sören a little kiss, but even though Mark doesn't seem homophobic, he doesn't want to take the risk of weirding him out if Mark is straight - Anthony can't tell and he doesn't want to "be a lawyer" and ask. So Anthony pats Sören instead.
"You two have plans for your anniversary?"
"We're still talking about it. We're... probably going to close the shop weekend after this one, just as a heads up." Anthony feels a twinge of guilt, since he knows Mark has been staying in the parking lot and uses the shop to avoid the street. But it feels more unfair to not take a weekend off to celebrate, especially when Sören was so seriously ill earlier this year, Anthony really wants to show Sören how grateful he is for him.
Mark nods.
Sören clears his throat. "Do you guys want to watch something? Mark probably doesn't want a barrage of more questions."
Anthony knows Sören is right - if the situation was reversed, he wouldn't want to be interrogated, and he's sure that Mark has to be on the defensive enough as it is. "Our DVD library is over there if you want to pick something out, Mark."
Mark hesitantly gets up, as if he's not sure what to do, and he slowly walks over to the bookshelf where they keep the DVDs. It's an entire shelf unit's worth, and Mark spends a few minutes looking it over as Anthony and Sören finish their tea. Finally Mark picks out the first Hobbit movie and brings it.
"Would you believe I've never seen this," Mark says.
"Wow, really?" Anthony is equal parts impressed, like it's some sort of record, and also wonders if Mark has been homeless that long. No more questions right now, he scolds himself as he gets up to put in the DVD.
An Unexpected Journey is close to three hours long, and it's already past nine PM, but the shop doesn't open until eleven AM and worst case scenario Anthony can open an hour late since they typically don't get a huge rush the first hour. It's still late enough that Anthony and Sören get in their pajamas first, and Anthony gets out a blanket from the hall closet, and gets a blanket for Mark too. Seamus kneads Mark's blanket and curls up on him, and Sören leans on Anthony.
Mark watches the movie with something like bemusement, every now and again tutting - Anthony starts to wonder if Mark is a Tolkien geek and has a problem with the way the movie deviates from canon; he knows Mark likes to read - but then, halfway through, Sören dozes off a little, and Mark notices when Sören lets out a tiny snore.
"I should go," Mark says, looking at the clock and back at them.
Anthony pauses the movie. "When you come over again we can finish this, if you want to."
"Thank you, I'd like that."
Anthony gently shakes Sören, who wakes with a start. Sören gets up, yawns, and then he looks out the window at the rain, and back at Anthony. "It's really pouring out there, Anthony," Sören says.
Sören has said it without saying it - that it feels wrong to send Mark back out into the rain, even though it's not far to his van in their parking lot, but the van probably feels like a refrigerator on a night like this. Anthony takes a deep breath, meets Sören's eyes, who gives a small nod as if he knows what Anthony is thinking, and then Anthony says, "So Mark... we have two bedrooms here. Sören uses the spare bedroom as a studio, and there's a futon in there. I don't know how comfortable it is, but if you're OK with it you're welcome to crash there tonight -"
"Oh. Wow. I... you're sure?"
"Once again, Mark, I wouldn't offer if it was a problem." Anthony wonders how many people have been passive-aggressive to Mark and said things they didn't mean. "I'll go make the bed for you."
Anthony folds out the futon, and gets clean sheets and blankets from the hall closet, while he hears Sören open a can of cat food and the muffled voices of Sören and Mark, probably talking about the cats. When he comes out he gestures for Mark to follow.
Mark spends a moment looking around at the pottery wheel, an empty easel, a cart full of paints and brushes, a shelf of blank canvases waiting to be used. Brightly colored Sterilite bins of Prismacolor markers and watercolor pencils and regular pencils and different kinds of paper; there's a drawing compass in there somewhere. On the cream-colored walls are framed mandalas Sören has drawn and colored, and a large papier mache tree populated by papier mache critters like squirrels and birds, and little shelves here and there of glass jar and glass bowl terrariums with brightly colored fake plants and small statues of gnomes and fairies that Sören bought at the dollar store and re-painted to look goth and punk, and hanging from the ceiling there are mandala suncatchers that Sören painted himself and a mobile that Sören and Anthony made together from driftwood and glass beads and seaglass. Mark smiles fondly, and Anthony smiles too.
"I hope it won't be too cramped in here with all my art stuff," Sören says, poking his head in.
"No, it's... I like it," Mark says. "I used to sleep in my father's forge sometimes and this reminds me of that, it's comforting."
Anthony wonders about Mark's father, and once again has to rein in that curiosity. "Well... I hope you sleep well. Just to let you know, we get up around nine AM."
"OK." Mark nods.
"Do you want, um... something to change into?" Anthony looks Mark up and down; his clothes wouldn't quite fit, but it would be better than sleeping in his clothes, probably.
"I'm OK, but thanks for asking." Mark nods.
"All right. We're down the hall if you need anything, just knock." Anthony doesn't like sleeping with the door closed - he learned the hard way when Sören had COVID and Anthony slept in the guest room so Sören could sort-of quarantine that the cats will scratch at the door and yell - but it is what it is. "Good night, sleep well." He realizes he said "I hope you sleep well" already and feels like an idiot; it's been too long since he was social.
Sören waves. "Góða nótt, sofðu rótt."
They aren't exactly across the hall from the guest room, their bedroom is across from the bathroom and the guest room is across from the hall closet. As Anthony turns and walks with Sören to their bedroom, it occurs to Anthony he hasn't shown Mark where the bathroom is - Mark hasn't visited the restroom the entire time he's been there, either - and he hopes Mark can find the bathroom and doesn't knock on the hall closet door if he needs them, but he decides Mark isn't an idiot and he and Sören need to try to get some sleep.
Key word being "try".
A few minutes after they're in bed, cuddled up together, holding each other, Sören starts rubbing against his thigh. "Daddy, I'm horny," Sören whispers.
Anthony chuckles - as tired as he is, he's still pleased by how much Sören wants him. Anthony smacks Sören's ass. Sören whines.
"Shhh, baby." Anthony puts a finger to Sören's lips, then it slides down Sören's throat, over his chest to brush a pierced nipple, then Anthony's fingers reach into Sören's pajama bottoms and he starts rubbing Sören's cock. Soon his fingers are inside Sören, and Sören starts rocking his hips, gently fucking himself. Sören moans, and Anthony gives him a little kiss. "I'll take care of you but we have to keep it down, baby."
"OK, Daddy."
Anthony sighs at the feel of how hot and wet Sören is, and he gets worked up himself. He guides Sören's hand down his pajama pants and they kiss as they finger each other, making soft squishing sounds muffled by the blankets. They nuzzle and lick their tongues together before kissing more deeply, and when they get close their foreheads are pressed together, breathing harder, breathing each other's breath.
Sören comes first, clenching and squeezing his fingers, and feeling Sören's contractions sets off Anthony's own orgasm, both of them gasping together, then kissing to stifle their moan. Anthony takes his fingers out of Sören and sticks them in Sören's mouth, and he tastes himself on Sören's fingers, and they kiss again, sharing the taste of themselves. If they didn't have to work tomorrow Anthony would be tempted to go at least another round or two, but it's late, and not long after Sören snuggles up to his chest, Sören's breathing slows and Anthony knows Sören is falling asleep. He pets Sören's curls and kisses the top of Sören's head, and listens to the rain outside - hoping Mark is sleeping OK, hoping he won't regret having invited Mark to spend the night in the guest room - until he too is asleep.
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