Sören wakes up with a start, throwing the covers off himself because he feels like he's burning up - he hears himself let out a little yelp. He sits, heart hammering in his ears as he gasps for breath.
Anthony makes a concerned noise and also sits up, rubbing Sören's back. "Oh, baby. Bad dream?"
Sören nods.
"Was it Einar again?" Anthony puts his arms around Sören, rubs Sören's head, kisses it, starts rocking Sören back and forth. "You're safe with Daddy, baby. Daddy will never let him hurt you again..."
"It wasn't Einar this time." Sören swallows hard - even though he's been out of Einar's house for eight, almost nine years, he still sometimes has nightmares where he relives the abuse. This was worse than Einar. "It was the dream about burning to death."
"Oh, shit. Oh, baby, I'm sorry." Anthony gives Sören a squeeze and keeps rocking him, petting him. He rubs noses with Sören, and Sören looks into those green eyes, the center of his universe. "Was just a dream, baby. You're here and you're safe."
Since Sören was four years old, he's had recurring nightmares about burning to death, going up in smoke and ash. It never made any sense, as he hadn't seen fire on TV, none of his neighbors had a housefire, and it wasn't connected to his parents' death, as it started before then; Sören's parents died in a car accident when he was six. Sören remembers his four-year-old self trying to explain to his mamma, "This is how I died," but Sören is an atheist and skeptical on the point of past lives. Nonetheless, it does feel like something that actually happened. It feels real.
It's been awhile since the last time Sören had one of the burning-to-death dreams - not since he had COVID. Sören thought maybe those dreams had fucked off, but here it is again. Sören tries to ground himself in the present. Just a dream, he tells himself. Just a dream.
One of the cats starts scratching at the door - from the yowl it's Seamus - and Sören remembers they closed the bedroom door. As Sören comes back to himself, he notices it's an hour before the alarm, and then he hears the shower running in the bathroom, which startles him again, since Anthony's right there, then he remembers they let Mark sleep over in the guest room.
The startle reflex turns to relief, glad that Mark is able to get a shower in a safe place. Even though he really has to pee. Sören flops back on the bed as Anthony gets up to open the door. Seamus comes trotting in with his tail high in the air, hops on the bed with a chirp, and then walks on Sören, putting all his weight on Sören's chest. Anthony sits on the edge of the bed and gives Seamus pettings, and Seamus rubs his face on Anthony's hand, purring hard, then he starts headbutting Sören aggressively, one bunt so hard it feels like it's going to break Sören's jaw. "Ow! Dammit, Seamus," he says, but still skritches the cat's head and chin. Seamus purrs louder and begins to knead on Sören. Snúður and Solly walk in together and sit on the floor, meowing.
"OK, you guys." Anthony makes an exaggerated sigh and gets up. Seamus jumps down and trots ahead of Anthony, yelling at him, and Sören stretches and gets up too, following along behind, amused by the cat choir leading the way to the kitchen.
The cats meow all the way there, Seamus the loudest. Anthony gets a can of cat food out of the cupboard and just as he's about to pop the top and peel it open, he looks down and his mouth opens. Sören looks down and sees there's most of a can of cat food in their dish, and it looks fresh.
"I see Mark already fed you," Anthony says to the cats, and folds his arms and taps his foot. "You guys are horrible liars."
The cats continue to meow, circling.
Sören stoops to pet the cats. "You didn't fool us, you know. We see that food."
Anthony makes coffee, and starts making pancakes, putting the ingredients together in a bowl. Sören hears the shower turn off, and he waits until he's heard the guest room door close to go to the bathroom, then Anthony uses the bathroom while Sören keeps an eye on the bowl on the counter, the cats hovering again, a little too interested. Anthony gets back and shoos the cats off, even though they haven't gone up on the counter - yet - and Mark comes out in a fresh change of jeans and T-shirt just in time for Anthony to get the pan ready on the stove.
"Mark, how many pancakes you want?" Anthony asks.
"Um... three. Thank you."
"OK. Coffee's ready, there's cream and sugar by the coffee pot."
Mark makes himself a cup of coffee and sits down in the living room. Seamus comes over and climbs on him, giving headbutts and nuzzles, then sits on Mark's shoulders as Snúður and Solly come over for pettings. Sören smiles and chuckles, amused - and finding Mark even more attractive as he dotes on the cats, smiling.
"They like you," Sören says, and adds, "Especially since you fed them, I see."
"I hope you didn't mind. I left the guest room door open last night and the cats slept on the futon with me and then they woke me up."
"That explains why they weren't scratching and yelling at our door last night." Sören sips his coffee. "I hope you slept OK. I know that futon isn't the most comfortable thing in the world."
"Yeah, actually, I slept good." Mark smiles. "I slept the best I have in years, to be honest. Cat purrs are very relaxing, cat cuddles are very soothing."
The mental image of Mark snuggled up with the cats makes Sören grin, his heart melting.
"Thank you for feeding these shits," Anthony says. "I'm sorry they woke you up."
"Well, I needed to shower, and I wanted to get it done before you guys were up and needed the bathroom, since my hair takes forever, so they were useful." Mark's smile broadens. He sips his coffee and puts it down. "And with them distracted by food, they didn't try to escape when I went down to the van to get a change of clothes."
"How are you doing on clothes?" Anthony asks. "Do you want to come up and do laundry tonight?" He glances over at Sören, aware he asked Mark first without asking Sören if it's OK to come over the second night in a row, but Sören just nods. He likes Mark, and he likes that this is something they can do to try to help Mark.
"I need to do laundry, so yes thank you."
"You're welcome. We can finish The Hobbit. Maybe order pizza or something."
"You gave me your leftovers -"
"I can heat those up for you for lunch if you want them," Sören says.
Mark's mouth opens slightly and Sören realizes Mark is going to eat three meals today - counting breakfast when it's ready - and he wonders when was the last time Mark had three meals in a day. He wants to get up and give Mark a hug, but he doesn't want Mark to feel like they pity him.
"OK." Mark clears his throat slightly. "Thank you. Thank you very much."
Sören looks over at Anthony, their eyes meet - Sören is so glad to have a partner who's a kind, decent man - and Sören blows him a little kiss. Anthony catches it, and grins as he turns back to the stove.
The day goes by uneventfully, though a bit busier than usual, now that school is back in session and kids are hitting the bookstore afterschool; Sören marvels how reading is considered cool now, when just ten to fifteen years ago when he was still a teenager, he was ridiculed for being a bookish nerd. He wonders how much of that has to do with all the books that have made it onto the big screen.
Like The Hobbit. Sören has only ever read the Lord of the Rings trilogy, and not since he was a teenager. He assumes that Mark has read it from the way Mark occasionally grumbles at the screen during the second half of the movie.
Anthony seems to have gotten a clue and isn't interrogating Mark this time. Sören is bristling with curiosity at Mark's life - how he ended up homeless, where he's been - but Sören keeps those questions to himself. Mark doesn't ask questions about them, either, and Sören finds himself relieved that Mark isn't asking one question in particular - since Mark took a shower this morning, he's seen the bathroom, and no doubt has seen the box of syringes, which they didn't think to take out of the bathroom when they asked Mark to spend the night. The box is closed and one would have to open it up and go through it and take a look at the small print to see the prescription is testosterone, and it doesn't look like the box was moved or anything in it was jostled around, so probably Mark didn't spy on the contents. That also speaks well to Mark's character, that he doesn't seem to have gone snooping, and he didn't steal the box to make money on the black market. Sören is hoping that Mark won't talk about the box and ask them what the needles are for - while Sören knows it'll probably come up eventually that he and Anthony are trans, they're stealth and Sören knows just because Mark isn't homophobic, doesn't mean he's not transphobic. Sören has dealt with plenty of transphobes who claim to be liberal and open-minded. He doesn't want to assume Mark would be transphobic, Mark seems like a very nice person, but Sören is hoping very much they won't be disappointed, when the time is right for that subject to come up.
He's hoping it won't come up for awhile, as he really doesn't like talking about it even if he knows it'll be received well. It always rips open old wounds about the years of dysphoria and trauma before he came out.
By the time Mark's laundry is done it's late, and they offer to let him sleep on the futon in the guest room again. Mark takes them up on that, and this time Sören does give him the hug he's been wanting to give all day. Mark's body feels solid, lean but muscular, and his arms feel strong as they give Sören a little squeeze. Mark is in good shape for someone who's probably been homeless for awhile, and Sören wonders if Mark was in the Canadian armed forces, he looks like he was once a soldier.
There's also that burn scar on his right hand, that Sören tries hard not to stare at, because staring is rude. It's amazing that Mark can play guitar, with that kind of scarring.
The shop was busy enough today - and Sören is a little sore from being fisted yesterday - that he and Anthony just cuddle and there's no pre-bedtime nookie. They manage to sleep until the alarm, and when they come out, Mark is in the kitchen.
"I made coffee," Mark says, "I hope you don't mind."
"No, not at all, thank you," Anthony says.
"Would you like me to make breakfast for you?"
"Mark, you're a guest, you don't have to do chores for us to 'earn your keep' -"
"I like cooking, and it's been a really long time since I had a kitchen to play in." Mark folds his arms. Sören tries not to notice the veins in Mark's forearms.
Anthony chuckles. "If you insist."
"I did a chore anyway," Mark says. "I cleaned the catboxes."
"You really didn't have to do that," Anthony says, "but thank you."
"Já, takk," Sören says, impressed. "I agree with Anthony - you didn't have to do that... but I get it. I think if I was in the same position I'd do something like that too, it's like... pride."
"Exactly, thank you," Mark says. "You get it."
"Still, you're a friend, not a servant," Sören says.
"Yeah, you're more like one of the cats than a house elf," Anthony says.
Sören snickers. "And more like Thranduil than a house elf."
Mark narrows his eyes, but then he smiles and starts looking around in the fridge for what he can make for breakfast. He goes with an omelette, and bacon, all of which is delicious. He can sing AND cook, I wonder what else he's good at, Sören thinks to himself.
Then an innocent thought becomes less innocent and his cheeks burn, watching the way Mark walks, watching his ass, the feline grace of him... he's heard plenty about musicians being good lovers. Anthony, himself, plays piano.
Don't think about Mark like that.
Mark spends the day at the shop again and an hour before close, Sören and Anthony have a brief meeting as to whether or not they want to invite Mark to dinner for the third day in a row. Anthony seems cautious, like he doesn't want to infringe on their couple time too much, but Sören is OK with it.
When they talk to him about it, Mark accepts, but he's a bit more cautious than Anthony. "Dinner, but I won't stay over this time - you guys need a night to yourselves with, you know, privacy."
Anthony turns pink; Sören knows what Mark means by you know, privacy. "If you're sure..."
Mark chuckles. "I've been sleeping in my van every night for years, I'll manage tonight. Although... I know you say I'm a guest and you don't want me to feel obligated to do stuff to 'earn my keep', but I'd like to say thank you for feeding me by playing some songs for you, if you'd like that."
Anthony and Sören look at each other, and nod enthusiastically. Sören claps his hands. "Yay!"
When the shop closes, Mark goes out to his van to get his guitar, and as Anthony and Sören are getting dinner started - tonight they're making black bean burgers with caramelized mushroom and onion, and a potato salad on the side - Mark comes upstairs. Mark pets the cats and it makes Sören melt.
There's a grill out on the porch, and it's not too chilly tonight, so after dinner they sit out there drinking lemonade while Mark plays and sings for them. He plays a few instrumental songs that he composed himself - all of which are haunting, achingly beautiful, giving Sören gooseflesh, putting tears in his eyes - but he mostly plays covers, and most of that classic rock, or acoustic versions of hair metal songs; Anthony grins at Bon Jovi and Guns N Roses, part of his 80s childhood.
The final song is something completely different, and it floors Sören, jaw dropping when he recognizes the opening notes. Mark's husky tenor croons:
I had some problems and no one could seem to solve them.
But you found the answer.
You told me to take this chance and learn the ways of love,
My baby, and all that it has to offer.
In time you will see that love won't let you down...
"All This Love" by DeBarge is Sören and Anthony's song. Sören doesn't recall telling Mark that, and he's pretty sure Anthony hasn't, either. Anthony takes Sören's hand, kisses it, and squeezes.
You said that you loved me; said hurt only came to pass me.
It sounded so convincing that I gave it half a chance
And learned the ways of love, my baby.
There is so much love inside me,
And all that I have I'll give my all to you;
All, all my love, baby and:
All this love is waiting for you, my baby, my sugar;
And all this love is waiting for you...
When the song is over, both Anthony and Sören stand up to applaud; Mark bows with a dramatic flourish.
"I never mentioned this," Anthony says softly, "but that's our song."
Sören nods. "He's not lying." That also confirms for Sören that Anthony didn't tell Mark. Sören has gooseflesh again - it's a little spooky that Mark chose that, of all songs, as his last song of the evening.
"It was playing one night during the two weeks I was in Iceland," Anthony says, "and I told Sören I loved him for the first time. It was... significant because I've been married before, and my heart was pretty badly broken, so I was taking a chance, again."
Mark smiles. "Well. Imagine that."
Sören raises an eyebrow. Mark is psychic. Then Sören internally smacks himself. And none of that shit is real, come on now. It's just a coincidence.
"I'm glad you guys took a chance on each other," Mark goes on. "You seem like you're very good for each other."
"We are." Anthony puts an arm around Sören, and Sören puts an arm around Anthony. "Sören's love has been... very healing."
"On that note..." Mark gets up. "I will let you two lovebirds enjoy the rest of your evening. Thank you for inviting me to dinner again."
"Thank you for your concert," Anthony says.
"It was beautiful," Sören adds. You're beautiful, his mind not-so-helpfully adds. Of course, his mind means that in an innocent way too - a beautiful heart expresses itself through a beautiful voice - but Mark is very easy on the eyes, a little too easy, and Sören wonders what a threesome would be like, and he bats those thoughts away as quickly as he can, face on fire.
They see Mark to the front door. "Good night," Anthony says. "I hope you sleep well."
"We'll see you tomorrow, jæja?" Sören is hoping.
"You will," Mark says.
"Oh." Sören stops Mark before he can go down the stairs, remembering an offer he made Mark before the bathroom incident, one he'd said he'd have to check with Anthony about, and Anthony is right here. "Actually... Anthony, I had asked Mark awhile back if he wanted to do an open mic night at the shop. What do you think about that? Maybe tomorrow night, if Mark is up for it? And he can put out a tip jar and keep the tips?"
"Yes," Anthony says. "I like that idea a lot."
"I do too, and thank you," Mark says.
Sören hugs him. "You may not want an idol career, but your voice still deserves to be heard and enjoyed by other people. It's art."
"I agree," Anthony says.
"Looking forward to it, goodnight!" Mark waves and heads down the stairs, and Sören and Anthony wave before Mark turns around.
They get to cleaning up the kitchen, then washing up, changing and winding down for the night. Anthony gets out his laptop and Sören knows he's checking the news online, especially when Anthony frowns and says "hmm" or "huh", and Sören sits with his Wacom tablet, working on the portrait of Anthony as a swan prince that he's been hoping to get finished before their anniversary, but that's looking less likely because it feels like something is missing and Sören doesn't know what. This is one of Sören's most detailed pieces and he keeps adding detail to it - tonight it's more detail to the background, like climbing roses on the wall of the garden looking out at the sea - but it seems like there's only so much more Sören can do with the background before it gets too busy, and yet the most important thing still isn't there.
Sören finally puts down his laptop in frustration. Yet, he still needs to create - he has that tingly, sparky feeling, the urge to make. Mark's voice and the shimmering guitar is still fresh in his mind, as if it's fueling that fire. Suddenly, it comes to him - not the missing detail, which Sören knows will require him taking a break from the project to step back, not think about it for awhile, and it'll come to him eventually, and that means it definitely won't be done for the anniversary - but something else he can make as an anniversary present.
He walks to the guest room, his studio. He gets out clay and sets up the pottery wheel. He hasn't made anything ceramic since before he had COVID - the chronic fatigue post-COVID has limited his creative output considerably - but now he sees it in his mind's eye, a vase with a painting of a swan. Kintsugi pottery, which he's done before, but in silver and gold, not just gold. The journey of the "ugly duckling" to beautiful swan, Anthony's transition, with the silver and gold lined cracks symbolic of the healing he's done.
He has an earworm of "All This Love", but as sung by Mark, as he takes off his shirt to avoid getting clay on it, and sits down at the pottery wheel. He loses himself in the whirling wheel, the feeling of wet earth, the shaping, like he's bringing something to life. He gets so lost in it that he jumps when, out of the corner of his eye, he spots Anthony at the door.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," Anthony says with a nervous laugh.
"It's OK." Sören looks at the clock and then he grimaces. "I probably shouldn't have started a new project this late when we have work tonight."
"Well..." Anthony's breath hitches. "I always love watching you at work. And it's so good to see you at the wheel again." Anthony bites his lower lip. "This is going to sound stupid, but I think you're at your most beautiful when you're making art. My spirit of fire."
Those words go right to Sören's heart. "Oh, elskan." Sören giggles, though he feels ready to cry, too. "You fucking dork."
"Wait, I can make this worse." Anthony grins and walks off. He comes back in just as "All This Love" by DeBarge starts on the stereo. Sören laughs harder.
Anthony takes off his own shirt, then pulls up one of the stools and sits behind Sören. "Hi," he says, breath hot on Sören's neck as his arms wrap around Sören's chest. "Come here often?"
Sören laughs and tilts his head to kiss the tip of Anthony's nose. "Here, want to help?"
Sören guides Anthony's hands to the spinning clay, rising and falling, the mouth narrowing and widening. With Sören's hands over Anthony's, they work the clay together, as "All This Love" continues playing in the background, the sweet soulful voice, the chiming electric piano, the flourish of the guitar. It feels right that Anthony is involved in making this somehow, and to their song of songs.
"I love you," Anthony says softly.
"I love you too."
They steal a kiss - Sören is starting to get horny, and somehow moving Anthony's hands on the clay at the wheel is very sensual. Anthony feels it too, nuzzling Sören's neck, then kissing it. Sören shivers and moans.
"You're so hot, baby. I think you are so fucking sexy when you're at work like this." Anthony nibbles Sören's ear.
A frisson goes down Sören's spine. He also feels overcome with emotion, hearing the tenderness and reverence in Anthony's voice, feeling so loved, feeling honored that Anthony appreciates something so important to him. Sören grasps at levity before he starts crying like a sentimental idiot. "So, are we gonna do Ghost now?" Sören tilts his head and rubs noses with Anthony.
Anthony cracks a grin. "Well, that would be bestiality, wouldn't it, since Ghost is your dog and all..."
It takes Sören a few seconds before it registers: Anthony has made a Jon Snow joke, since Sören bears a resemblance. Sören facepalms. Anthony's laughter rings out.
"See," Anthony says, "you know something, Jon Snow."
"OK, that's it." Sören daubs wet clay on his fingers and then he grabs Anthony's nose and tweaks it.
Anthony's mouth opens and the stunned look on his face is downright comical. Then Anthony collects some clay with his finger and attempts to put it in Sören's ear. Sören bolts just in time, giggling and shrieking.
Anthony chases him around the studio, trying to put that finger in Sören's ear - Anthony looks ridiculous with clay on his nose - and when Sören is by his pottery wheel again, he turns it off, grabs clay, and throws it at Anthony, splattering his chest. Anthony lunges, and Sören darts off again, charging into the bedroom. Anthony pounces on him like a cat and they land on the bed, howling with laughter. They roll around, tickling each other, screaming, until their sides are cramping up and Sören has to stop to take a hit of his inhaler. He tries to calm down, then the sight of Anthony with clay on his nose and on his bare chest makes Sören double over again, heaving, tears streaming down his face.
"I'll get you a washcloth," Sören says - even though he's still winded and Anthony is capable of getting it himself, Sören needs to stop looking at that for just a couple of minutes or he feels like he's going to die, so to the bathroom it is. When he comes back, Anthony's pajama pants are off and he's completely naked, propped up on one elbow, idly stroking himself.
"You fucking muppet," Sören teases, not able to believe he's taken this moment to try to be seductive, albeit in a cheesy way.
"Draw me like one of your French muppets," Anthony says.
Sören loses it again, falling on the bed. He points at Anthony's nose, wheezing, and Anthony takes the washcloth from him. Anthony wipes his own nose, and then Sören takes the washcloth back and tenderly rubs Anthony's chest.
Sören rubs the washcloth slowly, sensually, and leans in and claims a kiss. Then another. Anthony reaches and tugs down Sören's pajama pants, and they kiss more in earnest.
Then Anthony grabs him and starts tickling him again.
Sören tickles him back. They roll on the bed, one atop the other, flipping and pinning each other, tickling, flailing, laughing hysterically. Trying to disarm each other with kisses. They start grinding, until there's less tickling and more kissing, and Sören can feel his juices dripping, cunt aching, rubbing against Anthony more insistently.
Anthony kisses and licks Sören's neck, nibbles his shoulder. He rolls Sören onto his back and kisses him hard, and Sören moans as he feels Anthony pressing into him harder, the pressure on his pubic bone as their cocks align, sliding together. Anthony is wet too, and Sören's nails dig into Anthony's sides, wanting him. Sören rolls his hips and they kiss passionately, cocks rubbing and teasing. The wet squishing sound gets louder and they both moan in response, working their hips faster. Soon they're both right there, trembling, foreheads pressed together, breathing each other's breath; the hungry look on Anthony's face drives Sören mad with lust.
When they kiss again, open-mouthed, their tongues rubbing together like their cocks, Sören comes, giving a little whimper as the pleasure surges, pulsing, contracting. A few seconds later Anthony gasps and Sören feels Anthony's cock twitching, the flutters against him. Sören sighs with contentment.
They snuggle, resting in the sweet calm after the storm of sexual frenzy... and then Anthony starts tickling Sören again. Sören tickles him back harder and bites Anthony's neck. Anthony bites Sören's shoulder, growling. They roll around again, tickle-fighting for dominance, laughing, nipping each other, and then Anthony licks Sören's neck after another bite and Sören starts rubbing against him again. Sören nibbles Anthony's armpit and licks it, and Anthony rubs against him harder before their mouths crush together, moaning over the sloppy wet slurping sound of their boypussy lips kissing.
"I love you," Anthony says, and touches Sören's face before he kisses Sören again.
Caught up in that feeling of love - of passion - Sören finds himself rolling Anthony onto his back, and he straddles Anthony's hips. Anthony groans as he realizes what Sören is about to do, and caresses Sören's chest, down his stomach and thighs, and back up. "Go for it, baby," Anthony husks. "Ride Daddy's cock."
Anthony's hands reach down to guide his cock to Sören's cunt, and they both gasp when they can feel him inside. Sören starts to ride, working his hips, feeling Anthony's cock playing inside him like a finger, but better. Anthony smacks Sören's ass and his other hand plays with Sören's cock, thumb strumming it, then taking it between the V of his fingers the way Sören likes it.
"Get that dick, baby." Anthony slaps Sören's ass again.
"Oh god, Daddy." Sören shudders - it feels so good, the rubbing inside and out. The heat between them. Not able to get enough of each other, even after four years. Sören bites his lip and whines.
Anthony smacks Sören's ass and Sören bounces harder, faster. Anthony's fingers work Sören's cock harder, his other hand sliding over Sören's body, slapping Sören's ass, pinching Sören's nipples. "You are so fucking hot," Anthony rasps.
"So are you, Daddy." Sören's hands rub Anthony's chest, enjoying his chest hair. Then his fingers reach down to join Anthony's on his cock, and when they're wet enough he sticks them in Anthony's mouth. Anthony sucks Sören's fingers and the look in his eyes almost makes Sören come right then.
Anthony takes his hand away from Sören's cock for a moment and returns the favor, drenched fingers in Sören's mouth. Sören rides harder, as hard as he can, the bed creaking and shaking. Anthony grunts and furiously rubs Sören's cock, bucking his hips, making Sören work for it. Sören cries out, grabbing onto him as he bounces madly, right there, so close, and then their eyes meet and Anthony growls and Sören comes hard, one of those full-body orgasms where he shakes and spasms and makes inhuman noises. Anthony's eyes roll back and he lets out a shuddery sigh as he twitches inside Sören, as Sören's contractions are echoed by him pulsing. Anthony moans and tries to catch his breath. "Oh, sweetheart..."
Sören sucks Anthony's fingers again. "Mmmmhmmm." He loves watching - and hearing - Anthony lose it. Anthony's face lights up and that smile is the most beautiful thing in the world to Sören. Sören licks Anthony's fingers clean, then he strokes Anthony's cheek, pets his hair, eyes misting at that smile. After everything Anthony has gone through, Sören is glad he can make him that damn happy. "Elskan mín. Elsku Anthony minn."
"Oh, love." Anthony takes Sören's hand and kisses it.
They curl up on each other, legs braided, petting each other. The cats join them on the bed; Seamus headbutts each of them with a chirp. Surrounded by purring cats, holding each other, it's the best feeling in the world. After awhile Seamus gets off the bed, goes over to the cat tree in the window, and gives a forlorn meow, then looks back at Sören and Anthony and whines.
"Awww, I think he misses Mark," Sören says.
"He'll be back soon," Anthony tells the cat, as if the cat can understand English.
"He's not far," Sören adds. "Just right in our parking lot." Then Sören facepalms as it hits him. "Oh god, he's right in our parking lot. I wonder if he heard us."
Anthony flashes that wicked grin. "I wonder if he heard us the night someone called the police because of how loud you were."
"Oh god." Sören wants to hide under the bed and die.
Anthony's laughter rings out. He kisses Sören's forehead and gives him a squeeze. "I wouldn't worry too much. He knows we're adults and probably get up to adult things. It's why he wanted to give us privacy tonight and not take the guest room."
"Still." Sören's face is on fire. Then he finds himself wondering if Mark was turned on by their sex noises. Almost hoping, a little. Jesus Christ, don't think about Mark like that. You barely even know this guy, and he's got problems.
Anthony tousles Sören's curls. "Here, let me give you something to really scream about." He rolls Sören on his back and starts tickling him again.
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