"Oh my god, ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww."
Sören looks up from his Wacom tablet and over at Anthony, who's on his laptop. The look of horror on Anthony's face means it must be something pretty serious, since Anthony has seen some shit and doesn't freak out easily. Sören reflexively glances over his shoulder, even though Mark is out - Mark went to the supermarket for them; they're actually trusting him with cash to buy food - and then he glances back at Anthony.
"What happened?" Sören frowns. "Is Trump being an idiot? Is it TERF shit? Is it Facebook?" Sören scowls so hard his face hurts. "Is it TERF shit on Facebook?"
"No." Anthony gives a nervous laugh. He pats the seat next to him and Sören moves from the armchair to the couch.
Anthony is on their OnlyFans account. Someone sent them a DM. Sören braces himself and begins to read.
Assmaster420: I send u $50 if u send pic
2KinkyFTMBoyz: Both of us? Or just one of us?
Assmaster420: just the one with the fury chest hair
Sören rolls his eyes and groans loudly at the word "fury" instead of "furry", then reads on.
2KinkyFTMBoyz: This is he. What kind of picture are we talking about here?Assmaster420: show me ur clit
2KinkyFTMBoyz: Did you even read our profile? It says we don't like that word, don't use it with us.
Assmaster420: oh ok
Assmaster420: wanna see ur bonus hole
Assmaster420: I send u $200 if I can fuck ur bonus hole
Assmaster420: yay or nay
2KinkyFTMBoyz: Um, no. I'm a top, bruv. And our profile also says no meetups.
Assmaster420: u a female, how u a top
Anthony puts his face in his hands and screams.
"Wow," Sören says, not even knowing how to respond to that. He feels slightly ill.
"I'm blocking him. I assume it's a him," Anthony says. "I don't care if it costs us a subscriber and we lose money, I am not putting up with that shit."
"No no, block his ass. Do it. That shit is gross."
"Yeah." Anthony blocks the user, then he puts his laptop down and takes a few deep breaths.
Sören reaches out, grabs one of Anthony's hands, and squeezes. "I'm so sorry."
Anthony nods, and pats Sören.
Sören desperately grapples for levity. "Did you... call that guy 'bruv'?"
"Yeah." Anthony laughs. "I can't believe I fucking called someone 'bruv'."
"That guy was a douche," Sören says. He feels like punching the laptop, as if he could punch that guy in the face through the computer. That won't solve anything, so instead he squeezes Anthony's hand again, tighter, and then he gives Anthony a hug, rocking him a little.
Sören feels a tiny stab of guilt - Anthony handles their account because he's better at people, having been a lawyer up until a few years ago, but Sören wonders if he should offer to give Anthony a break from that, even though Sören can't even handle social media, let alone dealing with creeps. Most of their OnlyFans experience has been positive - they like getting compliments, especially when it comes with tips, it's helped boost their confidence, it's a source of gender euphoria. But every once in awhile they have to deal with someone like this.
"Well, he's blocked now." Anthony tousles Sören's hair and leans in for a kiss. "There are things I just won't tolerate." Then Anthony snickers. "Like that godawful spelling."
"Dude, English isn't even my first language and I know he fucked up 'yay or nay'." Sören has to make another joke. "Really hits different when you say Yay! Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death..."
"I take a look at my life, and realize there's nothing left. 'Cos I've been blastin' and laughin' so long that even my momma thinks that my mind is gone."
It takes Sören a moment - he wasn't even a year old when that song came out - and then he gets the reference, facepalms with an exaggerated groan, and then he gives Anthony noogies. "Fool."
Anthony cackles and hugs Sören tight. "I love you, you know."
"I love you too." Sören kisses the tip of Anthony's nose, and Anthony kisses Sören's nose right back.
Anthony sighs. "Apparently I'm going to have to simplify our profile and make it even more plain to not use certain words and that we're not trying to meet people."
Sören nods.
Sören grabs his Wacom and stays seated next to Anthony, trying to get back to his art - he's taking a break from the swan prince portrait and working on a winter landscape - but every now and again he steals glances at Anthony, who's chewing on a pen as he types, then deletes lines of text, making disgruntled noises through the pen in his mouth, pauses to think, and starts typing again. Anthony is clearly fretting over how to reword their profile, and it's just a profile... Sören wonders what Anthony's days as a lawyer were like.
Mark comes in with the groceries and the receipt and their change. Anthony gets up to help Mark put stuff away. Mark wants to cook dinner tonight, and Anthony volunteers to help with the prep work, but Mark says, "I got this. You relax."
Anthony gives Mark a mournful look but stops short of saying Using a knife will help me relax. His eyes meet Sören's and Sören shrugs. Anthony sits back down.
Anthony very obviously can't relax - he furiously types up text, erases it, and starts again, looking more and more agitated with each round of typing and deleting. It's bad enough Sören can't concentrate on his art. Even Mark notices once dinner's in the oven - black bean enchiladas - and he sits down.
"You OK?" Mark asks.
"Not really," Anthony says.
"You want to talk about it?"
Anthony purses his lips. "Someone was an arsehole on -" Anthony clears his throat and squirms; they haven't told Mark about their OnlyFans account yet, and Sören's not keen on having that conversation anytime soon. They've found out the hard way people who are queer and/or trans aren't always OK with sex work. "On social media. I got misgendered by someone who knows I'm a trans guy."
"Oof, I'm sorry." Mark frowns.
"It's OK. I just..." Anthony closes the OnlyFans tab and shuts down his laptop. He pinches the bridge of his nose, then rubs his temples, a grumpy look on his face. "When I get this pissed off I need to do something physical to blow off steam." He looks at the clock. "I'd go for a run but it's raining and we'll be eating in an hour." Then Anthony looks around the room and he stares at the bookcase of DVDs. "Ah, I've got an idea."
For the first time in months, Anthony gets out his yoga mat and a yoga DVD. He goes down the hall to change into yoga pants, which makes his ass look fabulous - and he has his shirt off, showing off his hairy chest and the definition he's built since his top surgery. Mark is reading a book but even he takes a moment to look at Anthony. Sören finds himself amused rather than jealous.
Then Sören's mind goes right in the gutter, wondering what it would be like to have a threesome with Mark.
Stop that. He doesn't need to feel like you took him in just to use him as some sort of sex slave. Besides, Anthony feels creeped out after that asshole on OnlyFans, don't suggest we play with a new person we're still getting to know.
This is presuming Mark would even be into other trans guys. A lot of trans guys only like cis people. Just because Mark looked at Anthony doesn't really mean anything.
Sören huffs, annoyed with himself for lusting after Mark like some kind of pervert, and gets back to his landscape. He tries very hard to focus on his art, but Anthony stretching and then doing the yoga poses along with the DVD is distracting. Anthony's body in motion is art.
It makes Sören horny, especially when he knows how that yoga pays off with keeping Anthony limber in the bedroom.
Anthony finishes with yoga about ten minutes before dinner is ready, and he seems calmer, but Anthony still gets out the weed for a quick smoke. Anthony rolls a joint as Mark gets the enchiladas out of the oven, and then they take turns with it, puffing and passing.
The high starts to kick in as they're eating... while watching LazyTown. Things that would be only mildly funny to Sören while sober are hilarious, and most hilarious of all is when he and Mark sing and dance together to "Bing Bang".
Mark goes back into the kitchen while Sören and Anthony cuddle with the cats, and Mark comes back with microwave-baked apples loaded with brown sugar and nutmeg and stuffed with cranberries. "Sports candy," Mark says with a grin.
"Wow, thanks, Sports Elf," Anthony says. Sören giggles madly.
Mark narrows his eyes then he laughs too.
The baked apple is delicious, but thinking about sports reminds Sören of how he was bullied in school for being unathletic and clumsy, and all of those old feelings have come back with his weakness post-COVID, now that money is tighter with them having to hire Mark to help at the shop because he's worn out from really simple things. He doesn't begrudge Mark a job and money - even if he were back to the way he was pre-COVID they'd still likely ask him to help with cleaning and organizing tasks to make opening and closing easier - but he still feels a twinge of guilt. Anthony notices Sören is more serious than he was a short while ago. "What's wrong?"
"Oh..." Sören sighs. "You doing yoga, and then watching Íþró... I'd really like to get some of my strength back. Like, I know there are limits and I shouldn't push myself too hard, but I hate feeling this helpless."
"Would you like to start doing yoga with me?" Anthony asks. "It's low-impact, lots of old people and people with injuries do it -"
"We could," Sören says, "but I feel like I should do... more. Something besides that. Fuck if I know what, though. I can't run because of my asthma, and joining a gym looks too strenuous, plus the pandemic is still going on, and I'd feel unsafe anyway in both the men's and women's locker rooms."
Anthony nods solemnly.
Mark strokes his chin, looking deep in thought. Then he says, "Sören, bike riding in Iceland is popular, yes?"
Sören nods. "I haven't ridden a bike in years, though, and I'd be afraid to try it now because of my balance issues." He has very occasional vertigo attacks since having COVID.
"What about an adult trike? Balance wouldn't be an issue then, and they're easier to ride so you'd get less worn out."
Sören misses riding a bike, and the idea of having an adult tricycle appeals to him - he's a big kid at heart who still wears bunny slippers and collects plushies and likes fruit snacks and chicken nuggets - but... "They're a lot of money and money's kind of tight for us."
"You could cut my pay a bit, or let me help with the grocery bill -"
"No," Anthony says, putting up a hand. "I already feel bad about paying you less than minimum wage, Mark, you're not a slave, I don't feel right about cutting your pay even more. And... you should save your money, in case something happens to us. OK? I meant what I said about not charging you room or board when you moved here. I'd like to get a trike for Sören, but we can... save up." Anthony tousles Sören's curls. "Maybe Father Christmas might bring you one."
Sören smirks. "The Jólasveinar usually think I've been naughty. Of course, Jólakötturinn can't eat me if you eat me first." Then he claps his hand over his mouth, internally cursing his lack of brain-to-mouth filter, he has even less of one right now being high. He and Anthony don't discuss kink with Mark, they don't want him to feel weirded out knowing too much about their sex life, and that comes dangerously close to it.
Mark turns beetroot and laughs. "Wow."
"Sorry," Sören says, and bites his lower lip.
"It's OK. You guys are adults, I assume you, yanno, do adult things." Mark looks off to the side and shoves a big piece of apple in his mouth.
Anthony clears his throat, gives Sören a look - Sören bats his eyelashes innocently - and then when everyone is done with their apples, Anthony takes the dishes out to the kitchen. "We should watch something else," Anthony says. "Something relaxing. Something not about sports."
Sören's tablet catches his eye, and that sparks something in his mind. "Oh I know, let's watch Joy Of Painting."
Even though Sören is from Iceland, Bob Ross is a meme legend known around the world, and when Sören came to the US he began watching Joy Of Painting on YouTube. He finds it soothing, and it's especially nice to watch when stoned. Anthony sets up the TV so they can watch YouTube on it, and he pulls up the Joy Of Painting playlist. Sören chooses the episode where Bob Ross paints the Northern Lights.
Sören curls up on Anthony, stroking and skritching the cats, as they watch the show. Mark seems enthralled, enough that the wonder puts a big smile on Sören's face. After the episode Mark asks to watch another, and another... and then Anthony looks at the clock.
"Oh shit, we need to go to bed," Anthony says - it's close to eleven PM and they go down to the shop at ten AM to get it ready for opening.
Mark frowns, but he doesn't grumble. Even so, his reaction is so much like a big kid's being told they can't stay up to watch a show, that Sören can't help but laugh, and he finds himself tousling Mark's hair after they get up, while Mark stays seated on the armchair to attend the cats, who have come over looking for love.
"I hope you sleep well," Anthony says to Mark.
"You too, when you get there." Mark winks at them.
Sören cracks up laughing at the innuendo, while Anthony turns pink. Then Mark glances at the clock again and back at them. "So, um... do you guys mind if I put on some music?" Mark asks.
Sören and Anthony look at each other and Sören bites his lower lip, realizing why Mark is asking.
"Yeah, sure that's fine," Anthony says. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, looking sheepish. "I'm sorry. We try to keep it down -"
"Yeah, I know, but sometimes..." Mark grins, also turning pink. Then he gives a nervous little laugh and goes on, "Besides, this is your place. I know you also say this is my home but it still doesn't sit right with me that you guys can't, you know. Let loose."
"OK. Well, we'll still try to... be courteous, and not ruin your music." Anthony smiles.
Sören once again grasps for levity to deal with the awkwardness. "Unless it's, like, Marvin Gaye or George Michael or something, then it fits."
"Or Korn," Anthony mutters.
Sören shakes with silent laughter that becomes less silent, bubbling out of him. He grabs Anthony by the tail of his shirt and with his other hand he waves at Mark as he walks backwards down the hall, dragging Anthony all the way.
They stop at the bathroom to brush their teeth and shower first. They're sensual with each other in the shower, kissing and caressing, playing with each other. When the shower is done they kiss all the way to the bedroom, running their hands over each other's bodies. Their towels drop to the floor as soon as they step inside the bedroom, and Anthony once again reaches between Sören's legs, groping and rubbing. He kisses and licks Sören's neck and Sören moans - he can hear Mark listening to Led Zeppelin, and hopes the music will be enough to muffle their sounds.
Anthony leads him to the bed and climbs over him. "Just us tonight," Anthony husks, and starts kissing Sören's neck. "This is for us."
As much as Sören enjoys making videos, and it wouldn't hurt to bring in the extra business with more content, he agrees they need a night that isn't for their subscribers, after what happened. They need to just enjoy each other... and Sören's in prime headspace to do so, with the lingering weed buzz making every sensation more intense, the pleasure more delicious. Sören savors Anthony's kisses on his neck, then Anthony licks and suckles one pierced nipple as he plays with the other, teasing them into long, thick nubs, glistening wet... so sensitive. Sören hears himself moaning louder as Anthony sucks harder, nibbles. "Daddy," Sören calls out, clutching at him.
"My sweet baby." Anthony starts kissing and licking his stomach, making Sören shiver. "God, I wish I could take better care of you than this." He rests his head on Sören's stomach for a moment. "I wish I could buy you a trike tomorrow. I would give you the world if I could -"
Sören puts a finger to his lips. "You do take good care of me. And right now, all I want is for you to make me come."
Anthony chuckles, and he licks Sören's stomach more slowly. "One-track mind."
"Mmmhmm." Sören shudders again. "You get me so fucking hot, Daddy."
Anthony nibbles, and Sören whimpers. Anthony kisses and nibbles Sören's inner thighs, driving him wild. And with his head between Sören's legs, his mouth on Sören's thighs, it makes Sören want. "Please," Sören begs. "Please, Daddy."
Anthony just keeps kissing, licking, and biting Sören's thighs, but his index finger lightly strokes Sören's cock a few times before working in and out of him, slowly... slowly. Anthony kisses up to Sören's stomach and spends some more time there, teasing, before he kisses back down and adds a second finger, still moving slowly. Sören cries out with frustration and Anthony laughs, then he tastes Sören from his fingers, and Sören groans.
Anthony takes a few slow licks at Sören's cock. "Is this what you want, sweetheart?" he asks, a wicked look in his eyes.
"Yes. God, yes. Please, Daddy, please."
Anthony laughs again and keeps licking slowly, while Sören thrashes around, biting his hand, whimpering, needing so badly to come but Anthony's tongue feels so good when everything is intensified like this. At last Anthony laps faster, and Sören cries out again, bucking his hips. Anthony draws Sören's cock between his lips, sucking hard, and Sören screams into his hand, makes a strangled growl between clenched teeth.
Anthony sucks at him, knowing what Sören likes. The pleasure builds and builds, getting Sören closer to release, and he holds back, needing more, utterly lost in that sweet sucking. But soon Sören feels himself rush to the point of no return. He digs his nails in Anthony's shoulders. "Daddy," he moans. "Oh god. Daddy. DaddyDaddyDaddyDaddyDaddy -"
Sören comes with a sob, contracting, pulsing, that wonderful flood of relief and delight. Sören sighs as his toes curl and Anthony takes a few licks, then he sighs too.
Anthony slides up and kisses him deeply. The taste of himself on his husband's lips gets Sören worked up again, as does their tongues rubbing together, and Anthony guiding Sören's hand between his legs so Sören can feel how hard and wet he is.
They fall into a sixty-nine, tongues lashing fast and furious, moaning into each other, rocking their hips and fucking themselves on each other's hungry mouths, sucking each other's cocks hard, slurping, suctioning. Sören feels his orgasm build again and he eats Anthony for all he's worth, wanting Anthony to come with him, sucking loudly. When he feels Anthony contract and twitch and hears Anthony give a muffled cry, Sören comes too, panting, wet and messy.
They hold each other, kissing. Sweet, tender kisses become deeper and more passionate, then teasing, their tongues licking and fluttering once more. They laugh at how insatiable they are for each other, and take turns sucking each other's fingers before they kiss again. Anthony starts kissing Sören's neck. "You want to fuck?"
"Please."
Anthony straddles Sören, hooking Sören's right leg over his left shoulder, and rolls his hips slowly. Sören moans, arched to him, also working his hips, savoring the feel of Anthony's cock on his, rubbing, stroking just right. They keep the pace slow, caressing each other, losing themselves in the luscious rhythm of cock on cock, boypussy lips kissing, slurping, sloppy wet. Sören admires Anthony's body, the look of lust in those green eyes.
Anthony leans down and kisses him passionately. Sören wraps his arms around Anthony, kissing him back. They nuzzle and giggle, looking into each other's eyes between kisses. Their tongues play and Sören bucks harder. Anthony matches his rhythm, riding harder, faster. Sören writhes, whimpering, panting, feeling like he's going to explode from the building tension but he doesn't ever want to stop. The entire world slips away and all that matters is them rutting together like this, their hot, needy fuck.
Sören's nails rake down Anthony's back and Anthony grabs Sören's wrists and pins them, rubbing harder, making the bed creak and shake. Sören growls and Anthony growls back, before he kisses Sören deeply, then starts kissing and licking Sören's neck again, nibbling. "Daddy," Sören moans. "Oh god, Daddy..."
It isn't long before they're fucking hard, making that deliciously obscene wet slapping sound. Anthony lets go of Sören's wrists and rises up again... and grabs Sören's collar. "That's it. You like it when Daddy fucks you hard?" Anthony grits out, rocking as fast and hard as he can.
"Yes, yes, yes..." Sören bites his lower lip and whimpers. "Daddy. Pabbi. Fuck me, Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. Pabbi. Pabbi... fokkaðu mér, Pabbi!"
Anthony grunts and keeps fucking, his breath ragged, shuddery gasps. Sören knows Anthony is getting close, and so is he. Sören can feel his own thighs quivering, almost coming at the feel of Anthony's juices dripping into him. "Meira, pabbi! Ekki hætta... ekki fokking hætta, pabbi, meira..."
"Oh, fuck." Anthony grabs Sören's collar harder and grits his teeth, then he's panting in time with Sören, his chest hair damp with sweat as he keeps fucking hard.
"Pabbi! Pabbi! Fokkaðu mér, fokkaðu mér..."
Then Sören can't make words at all, he's right there. His eyes lock with Anthony's and Anthony growls again. Sören loses control, coming hard with a broken cry, and Anthony comes an instant later, pulsating against him, gushing into him, moaning. They kiss again, and again, clinging to each other, rocking together.
Sören is so shattered that after a few moments of beautiful peace, tangled up with the man he loves, he drifts off to sleep, a smile on his face.
Sören wakes up to feel a cold empty spot in the bed where Anthony is supposed to be, and he whimpers. He opens his eyes. It's still dark. The alarm clock next to the bed says 3:12 AM.
Sören groans and sits up. In the glow of the nightlight he sees Anthony putting on sweatpants.
It takes Sören a moment to find his English. "What are you doing?"
"Oh, I didn't mean to wake you, sorry." Anthony gives a nervous laugh and runs a hand through his mussed hair. He glances over at the clock and back to Sören. "I had a nightmare and I can't get back to sleep, so I'm gonna go for a quick run."
Sören raises an eyebrow, but doesn't try to convince him not to. Once Anthony is dressed and ready, he gives Sören a peck and tucks him back in.
Sören lays there and tries to go back to sleep, but he can't. He feels a prickle of worry. Not just about Anthony running in the middle of the night - even though Bentham is a small town with low crime - but the fact that Anthony's mental state must be pretty bad for him to go for a run in the middle of the night, with his PTSD about being attacked and lingering fears of it happening again, even after toking up and having good sex last night.
Sören finally sits up, pulling the covers off. He's not going to be able to get back to sleep, so he might as well do something with this restless energy. He goes out to the kitchen, feeds the cats, and then he sits in the living room with his Wacom tablet.
He thinks about watching Joy Of Painting last night. He hasn't painted with oils on canvas in quite some time, because getting set up is a pain in the ass. But now he feels the urge to sit at an easel and bring a canvas to life... and of course all of that is in the guest room, where Mark is sleeping. Sören doesn't want to rummage around in there and wake him up.
Sören tries to content himself with the tablet, but it isn't the same and Sören gets more and more frustrated. Then, as if on cue, Mark wanders out and starts making coffee, even though it's not even four in the morning yet. He looks as grumpy as Sören feels.
"I hope I didn't wake you," Sören says. "Sorry if I did -"
Mark shakes his head. "No, sometimes I just don't sleep well." Then he gives Sören a concerned look. "You OK? Where's Anthony?"
"Anthony went for a run," Sören says. He puts his tablet down. "Anthony had a nightmare. I think he's, ah... triggered... by what that asshole said to him yesterday."
Mark nods, leaning against the counter. "It's rough."
"Jæja, I'm not doing great myself." Sören takes a deep breath and meets Mark's eyes. "Since you're up, do you mind if I go in your room and get my painting stuff?"
"No, I don't mind." Then Mark cocks his head to one side. "Do you want some music while you paint?"
"OK."
It takes awhile for Sören to set up his easel and paints. Anthony says he was going for a "quick run" and it's now after four in the morning and he's not back yet, and Sören's heart is racing as his mind's eye plays worst-case scenarios of Anthony getting assaulted or abducted or injured or hit by a car...
He's probably fine. Stop.
Sören takes a few deep breaths and gazes into the blank canvas. He remembers the Northern Lights episode of Joy Of Painting and he feels that wistful ache of homesickness for Iceland, remembering watching the aurora with Anthony.
He's going to bring the aurora to him.
Mark seems to sense Sören's tension, and as Sören starts painting, Mark begins to play a familiar song on his acoustic guitar - the theme song to Joy Of Painting. Sören facepalms, laughing.
"Dork," Sören says.
"That's happy little dork to you," Mark says.
Sören grins, and resumes painting. He paints the Goðafoss, just outside his hometown of Akureyri. As he makes the sky and the falls sing with color, Mark plays what sounds like original compositions, singing in a language Sören doesn't recognize, his voice and his guitar shimmering like the aurora. It's almost as if Sören's painting is the visual expression of what Mark is singing... or that Mark's song is Sören's vision in sound form.
Anthony comes back from his run, drenched in sweat, breathing hard. He has a sports drink and sits, catching his breath, watching the performance with something like awe on his face.
Eventually the twilight comes just before dawn and the painting is good enough, and Mark is drinking water and resting his voice. Sören makes his signature in futhark runes in the bottom left corner, and then on impulse, he tugs the sleeve of Mark's shirt and points. "For you." He wants to give Mark something to make his room feel more like his own, and this feels right.
Mark's mouth opens and his eyes widen. He looks at the painting and then at Sören. "Are you sure? You could charge a lot of money for this, it's beautiful enough to be in a gallery or museum -"
"I want you to have it," Sören says. "You deserve beauty in your life."
Mark gets up and hugs Sören tight. Anthony hugs both of them, and the cats circle, rubbing up on them. "My life is beautiful with you in it," Mark says, and tousles Sören's curls.
Sören bites his lower lip. "Awwww, my feels."
"Happy little feels," Anthony says, and boops Sören's nose. Then he boops Mark's nose too.
The three of them watch the sunrise together on the terrace, and Sören can't help but notice how lovely Mark is in the pink-gold glow of the rising sun. He reflects on the synergy of his art with Mark's music. Anthony talks about needing to close the shop early since none of them got enough rest, but it's still going to be a long day.
It was worth it, though. Sören wonders if they can make that kind of magic again.
go to chapter 19 | go to story index | go back to Maglor Shrine | go to home page