By Monday, the rains have stopped, and Anthony, Sören and Mark are keen on using their "bonus" day off to spend time enjoying the fall foliage. After some discussion, they head out to visit a farm for a day of apple and pumpkin picking. As much as Anthony is still annoyed months later by that bad review from Bev Debussy on Yelp, he decides not to retaliate by visiting her farm to do the same - it isn't worth it and he doesn't want to give her the patronage.
They do a little road trip, driving an hour to Portsmouth, New Hampshire, to a farm that not only has apples and pumpkins but a store for products like artisan cheese and a stand for old-fashioned ice cream and even a petting area with goats. On the way there they listen to Anthony's 90s grunge rock playlist, and hearing Mark sing along with Chris Cornell gives Anthony chills. Once again, it seems like a crime that Mark doesn't have a record deal.
Once again, Anthony finds Mark beautiful, all the more so to hear the power of his voice. His cheeks burn and he's a flustered mess by the time they reach Sunshine Farm Orchards, but he manages to pull himself together enough to buy their passes for farm and orchard access.
Since it's a Monday afternoon, there aren't too many people out and about, which makes it easier to enjoy the peace of nature. They take their time walking through the orchard - each of them has a large basket, they can keep whatever they can carry. It seems like more apples than they'll ever use, but there's three mouths to feed now and Anthony thinks of pies - and apple cake - and perhaps learning how to make jam and preserves, like his gran did. The thought of scones with apple jam on a cozy winter's night, the three of them huddled together in a blanket...
...OK, stop that. But Anthony realizes, as he fills his basket with apples, that this is a nesting gesture. Mark is part of the family now, for better or worse, and more and more, Anthony is wondering what it would be like for Mark to share their life, not just stay with them through the winter or until he has something else figured out.
It doesn't help that Mark is actually smiling as he picks apples, looking truly relaxed, and it makes Anthony ache, knowing with Mark's hard-knock life moments like this have been rare. He wants Mark to have more happy moments like this one.
I want to make you happy.
Anthony looks over at Sören, who's also stealing glances at Mark with a wistful look in his eyes, and he get the sense Sören feels it too. He wants to talk to Sören about this, and get a feel for how they should proceed, but he's still torn, worried that Mark is going to think they took him in to be some sort of sex slave...
...much as the idea of Mark wearing nothing but a collar and some rope is delicious.
Anthony drops an apple and swears under his breath. The apple rolls. Mark is close by, and he gets to it before Anthony does. The peaceful, content smile becomes a mischievous grin as Mark picks up the apple and puts it in his own basket.
"Thief," Anthony says.
Mark sticks out his tongue. "You gonna come take it?"
Anthony's mind goes right in the gutter with the words take it, picturing Mark tied up, spread-eagled, Sören riding Mark's cock as Anthony drills Mark with a strap-on, reaching around to play with Sören's pierced nipples, biting Sören's neck, fucking Mark harder as he gets more worked up. Fucking hell.
Anthony needs to snap out of that fantasy; humor is a good way to defuse the bomb of his feelings. He marches towards Mark, puts down his basket, and lunges. Mark runs off, laughing, and Anthony chases him.
Anthony goes on a wild chase through the trees, kicking up leaves. Mark zigs and zags, not making it easy for him, and Anthony finally ducks behind a tree and waits. When Mark stops running and looks around, Anthony leaps out from behind the tree and tackles him. Mark's basket of apples drops and apples fly everywhere, as they roll around in the crunching leaves, laughing hysterically as they tickle each other, give each other noogies, and wrestle for dominance.
For one of the only times in his life, Anthony supposes his lack of a penis is an asset, because he knows he'd be rock-hard, feeling Mark's body against his... looking at the light in Mark's eyes, his face lit up as they continue rolling around, play-fighting like a couple overgrown kids. Anthony's tempted to kiss him, but he holds back, and there is a long moment where they look in each other's eyes, catching their breath, and Anthony wonders if Mark is feeling the same way -
Then suddenly, Sören starts pelting them with apples. One hits Anthony in the nose, and Mark doubles over laughing at the mock-irate look on Anthony's face, just before an apple hits Mark in the ass.
Mark pulls Anthony up, and they linger for another moment, eyes locked, before they walk over to the spilled apples and Sören helps them collect the apples from the ground and put them back in Mark's basket.
Mark takes an apple from the basket and hands it to Anthony. "Not sure which one is yours, but here," Mark says.
Their fingers brush and Anthony feels like he's been hit by lightning. His face is on fire again. Just from that little touch his cunt twinges - he can feel himself hard and slick and aching, wanting to push Mark back into the leaves and ravish him. Anthony clears his throat and finds his words. "Thank you."
God, I've got it bad. Why. Why this. Brains. Why.
"You kids gonna behave now?" Sören folds his arms, lips quirked in amusement.
"No," Anthony says with a cheeky grin.
"Really something when I'm the youngest and still the responsible adult," Sören says.
Anthony and Mark blow raspberries at the same time, then look at each other and crack up laughing.
They manage to get their haul of apples out to the Prius without incident - Anthony still can't believe how many apples there are, and after they've loaded the trunk, Sören scratches his beard and says, "I wonder if we could use one basket to make apple desserts for the cafe, like little tiny pies, or... or tarts, or something."
Anthony smiles at the way Sören rolls the r on the word "tarts", and then he can't resist teasing his husband a little, feeling randy and flirtatious. "You're my favorite tart," he says, putting an arm around Sören.
Sören giggles and tweaks Anthony's nose. "Well, you can eat me anytime you want." Then he looks over at Mark, who smirks, and Sören bites his lip. "Er, sorry Mark, that was TMI, no brain-to-mouth filter."
"It's all right." Mark chuckles. "I assume you two aren't celibate monks."
Now Sören looks flustered, and Anthony wonders if that was just Sören's lack of brain-to-mouth filter or if it was intentional and calculated. He gets the feeling it was the latter, and when their eyes meet, Sören quickly looks off to the side and bites his lip again.
Anthony's seen that look before. Sören did that the first few days they were together in Iceland.
They head back to the farm, this time to the pumpkin patch. They pick out a dozen smaller pumpkins and a half-dozen larger ones, as decorations for the shop and their apartment. Mark carries the biggest pumpkin, which is at least a couple feet tall and wide. "That one will be fun to carve," Sören says. Anthony smiles at the gears turning in his artist husband's head - he loves it when he can see Sören planning projects. The way Sören comes alive when he's thinking about art is one of the most beautiful things about him, to Anthony.
They load the car with pumpkins and then they take a trip to see the goats. Sören squeaks with happiness, which Anthony finds adorable, and Mark smiles fondly as well. They leisurely stroll, admiring the fiery leaves and the cute goats.
A baby goat allows Mark to pet it, and Mark looks a little misty-eyed when the goat goes back to its parents.
"Are you OK?" Anthony asks.
Mark nods. "Yeah. Just." Mark takes a deep breath and gives a nervous laugh. "You know, I almost left the Portland-Bentham area to go work on a farm for the harvest season. It feels surreal that I'm coming here as a visitor and not a worker. That I can actually... enjoy myself and not have to worry about things for awhile. Appreciate what a beautiful world we live in."
Sören and Anthony look at each other, and then together, they pull Mark into a fierce, tight hug.
"And family to share it with," Mark says, an arm around each of them, giving them a squeeze.
Now it's Anthony's turn to get choked up, touched by Mark's words. Pleased Mark feels so close to them.
...And slightly disappointed. He thinks of us as family. People don't fuck their relatives. Anthony hates that his mind is going on this tangent, wanting to just content himself with Mark's friendship. But it hurts just the same.
From the goat corral they head over to the store and spend awhile looking at the fresh bread, baked goods, artisan cheese and cider available for sale. Anthony doesn't want to go crazy but they still end up buying a few bags of cheese curds, two loaves of crusty artisan bread, a pumpkin pie, a box of apple cider doughnuts, and a couple jugs each of apple cider and lemonade. Then they stop at the ice-cream stand and as they wait in line, Anthony recognizes someone.
He pokes Sören and whispers, "Look, it's Mitch."
It takes a few seconds for Sören to register the Gene Wilder lookalike and then he nods. "Oh, jaeja. Mitch."
Anthony can't help smiling at the way "Mitch" turns into "Meetch" with Sören's accent. "So, you gonna say hi to your new boyfriend?" Anthony elbows him, snickering.
"Uh... no." Sören snickers back. He glances over at Mitch and then he shrugs.
After they get soft-serve cones, they go out to a picnic area with a lovely view of the burning trees... and a small pond where ducks and geese are still around, not having gone south for the winter yet. The way Sören sensually licks his ice cream, still stealing looks at Mark, makes Anthony wonder if that whole thing with Mitch at the bowling alley was Sören's way of testing the waters about polyamory, a conversation they'd had in the early days of their relationship but never revisited, since they'd had a lot on their plate with running a business, and then the pandemic happened and with it, social isolation.
Once the ice cream is finished, Sören can't resist breaking into one of the bags of cheese curds, which in turn gets Anthony portioning out slices of fresh bread. Some of the geese come over, honking insistently, and get dangerously close, snapping at them until Anthony throws some bread into the grass. "Fuckers," Anthony says.
"I bet they're just as hungry as our cats are," Sören laughs; the cats were fed before they left.
"Probably. I imagine they bully all the people into giving them treats." Anthony rolls his eyes. "At least our cats are charming about it."
"Geese are kind of cute in their own... loud, scary way," Sören says.
"I like swans better," Anthony says, thinking of camping trips with his uncle when he was young, and the swans on the river at Cambridge. He used to love punting just to look at swans. "They're just as nasty but at least they're pretty."
Mark gives Anthony a funny look, like he said something completely daft, and Anthony raises an eyebrow, but Mark just looks away, shoving a cheese curd into his mouth.
When they're done eating, they decide to go for one last stroll to enjoy the vibrancy of the trees... the crispness of the air and the crunch of the leaves. After awhile Sören pauses. "When you guys chased each other around earlier, it looked fun." Sören cocks his head to one side. "You want to build some leaf piles and jump in them?"
Anthony can't believe he's doing this - he's forty-one - but there they are, scooping up as many leaves as they can carry, depositing them into heaps that grow wider and taller. When they're satisfied, Sören is first to take a flying leap into one of the piles, and then Anthony and Mark jump together into the piles on either side of him. They roll around in the leaves like happy cats, laughing, joyous and innocent. At last three piles become one and the three of them are tangled in a cuddle, and the feelings Anthony has for his husband and their new best friend are decidedly less innocent.
The ride back home, for all of its beauty of more fall foliage on the highway - oaks and maples and beeches turning orange and red and gold, mingled with evergreens, under a clear blue sky - and the beauty of Mark's voice, singing along again with Soundgarden and Stone Temple Pilots, is excruciating. Anthony doesn't just feel like a teenager again from letting himself play without a thought to dignity, but now he feels sexually frustrated like one, trying to make himself focus on the road, but all he can think about is a threesome with Sören and Mark, all the things they can do to each other.
That frustration builds once they're back at home and Anthony makes dinner while Sören draws on his Wacom tablet and Mark serenades them on his guitar, playing covers of the 90s grunge rock of Anthony's youth. When Mark sings "Comedown" by Bush, Anthony is reminded of the ridiculous crush he had on Gavin Rossdale as a teenager... and Sören and Mark are way hotter.
Hotter still when Mark sings "Letting the Cables Sleep", his voice husky and raw with emotion, expressing the grief for a family lost - and Anthony can hear the uncertainty over a family found.
Silence is not the way
We need to talk about it
Anthony blinks back tears, feeling called out, even though he's sure Mark doesn't know of his interest. He wants to tell him, but he worries how it will change things. They have a nice, cozy little life here; Anthony doesn't want to fuck that up, least of all for Mark, who's had precious little stability in his life.
I'm a stranger in this town
I'm a stranger in this town
Anthony closes his eyes and turns to face the stove, beginning the stir-fry. He exhales, not wanting Mark to have to keep running, a stranger every town, everywhere. Stay, Anthony thinks to himself, feeling like his heart is breaking.
And still, he keeps his silence.
All of those feelings explode into flame when it's time to retire for the evening. Anthony undresses Sören feverishly, gets out of his own pajamas as fast as he can, and they kiss and caress all the way to the bed.
Anthony has Sören get on all fours, and he ties Sören's wrists and ankles to the bed. Anthony takes the Wartenberg wheel and rolls it over Sören's shoulders and arms, then down his spine and back up, down and up, following the prickle of the pins with his tongue, making Sören moan louder and louder. He gives Sören ten spankings, five on each ass cheek, then the pinwheel spins over Sören's ass too, with Anthony licking here, biting there, as Sören grabs fistfuls of the sheets, squeaking, panting, desperately trying to rub himself. Anthony works the pinwheel over Sören's spine again, fingers brushing in the wake, and then he kisses and licks down Sören's spine again, smiling as Sören lets out little frustrated sobs, trembling.
Anthony gets into his strap-on and comes around to fuck Sören's face, going mad with lust as he grabs Sören by the hair and watches those lush lips, his mouth full of cock. Sören whines around the cock in his mouth, a needy look in his eyes, and Anthony groans, feeling his juices drip down his thighs, his own cock aching for attention. When they're both worked up enough, Anthony pulls the dildo out of Sören's mouth, then lovingly slaps Sören's face with it, making Sören cry out and beg "Please, Daddy." Anthony growls - he loves how subby Sören is, how much Sören loves to be manhandled - and then he shoves a ball gag in Sören's mouth. He climbs on the bed, gets on his knees, and takes Sören from behind, grabbing Sören by the hair again and letting him have it.
Sören rocks his hips, fucking himself on Anthony's cock, whimpering through the ball gag. Sören is so wet that the filthy slurping sound of Anthony plunging in and out of him is louder than those little cries and their hips slapping together, and Anthony groans, getting into it. There's an attachment on the other side of the strap that rubs against him as he fucks, and Anthony goes wild, pounding into Sören, his own cock teased with each thrust. His free hand reaches around to play with Sören's cock and Sören bucks his hips even harder. Anthony gives a deep grunt of satisfaction, tugs harder on Sören's hair, and rubs Sören faster, grunting again as he feels Sören dripping on his hand.
"Such a slut," Anthony purrs, reveling in how far gone his mate is, like Sören is in heat for it. "You love being Daddy's little slut, don't you?"
"Mmmhmmm."
Anthony drives into him as hard and fast as he can, the bed rocking against the wall. Anthony feels a slight touch of self-consciousness - he knows by now Mark puts on headphones - and then that self-consciousness turns to lust, hoping Mark hears it, and is aroused by it. The thought of fucking Mark this way... Anthony shudders and almost comes, and keeps fucking Sören hard, savoring that wet suctioning sound, the feel of how hot and slick Sören is against his fingers. "Fucking slut," Anthony growls, and gives Sören's pussy a few slaps before he rubs it harder. Sören squeaks around the gag and bucks his hips furiously, one long moment of pure fire, burning hotter and hotter, and then Anthony feels Sören contract against his hand, gushing, and Sören screams through the gag as he spasms.
Anthony gives Sören a few minutes to recover, then he takes off the strap-on, takes the gag out of Sören's mouth, unties him, rolls him over... and sits on Sören's face. Sören sucks him like he's starving for it, slurping obscenely, shaking his head, growling into him. Those sweet lips on his cock get Anthony closer and closer until he's a quivering, panting wreck, needing to come, not ever wanting to stop feeling those lips on him, so good...
Anthony comes with a soft cry, and when he looks down he notices Sören playing with himself. He slaps Sören's hand away. "Did I say you could touch yourself, brat?" Anthony asks, laughing - delighted that Sören gets turned on enough doing this to him that he jerks off.
Sören bites his lower lip. "No, Daddy."
"I think my little slut needs more spankings."
Sören eagerly gets on his hands and knees again and sticks his red ass out. Anthony moans appreciatively, and then gets to work, spanking each ass cheek a dozen times as Sören sobs into the pillows, trying to keep it down. When Anthony's through he notices a big wet spot underneath Sören, and once Sören is on his back again, spread-eagled, Anthony sees Sören's cream dripping into the crack of his ass and Anthony can't help touching himself as he watches, one of the most erotic things he's ever seen.
"Please, Daddy, I need to come again." Sören gives him those big brown puppydog eyes, his weakness.
"Oh, all right." Anthony gives an exaggerated sigh, flings his arm over his forehead, and then they laugh together and Anthony sinks down to kiss the tip of Sören's nose, and give him a nuzzle and a few skritches. Sören smiles adoringly and it melts his heart.
With one of Sören's legs hooked on his shoulders, Anthony mounts him and they rub cock to cock, both of them so wet for each other, making that wet sloppy smacking sound that drives them both wild. Their cocks tease and tease, cream flowing back and forth between them, until they're both right there, eyes locked, panting. Anthony reaches around to finger himself from behind, and shoves his slick index and middle finger in Sören's mouth. Sören sucks Anthony's fingers with heat in his eyes and then he whimpers and Anthony groans as he feels Sören contracting, pulsing. It sets him off, coming hard, gushing, and Sören lets out a louder whimper, head bobbing up and down, sucking away at Anthony's fingers like a cock. Anthony cries out and collapses onto his husband and they kiss deeply. Sören wraps his arms and legs around Anthony, clinging, and they look into each other's eyes, nuzzle, and giggle, rocking together in the bliss.
"I love you, elskan," Sören whispers, and snuggles into his shoulder.
Anthony kisses the top of Sören's head and pets his curls. "I love you too." He closes his eyes and thinks about what it would be like for Mark to share the afterglow with them, three bodies cuddled up together. He likes that idea... and he hates that he likes it so much. He wants to be content with what he has... and yet he can't help but feel they would all be happier together, three parts of a greater whole.
Anthony sighs, and closes his eyes, trying to be present and savor the peace, but he still feels that ache, like a part of himself missing that he didn't realize until very recently.
He wonders if Sören feels it too. He's afraid to ask. Once they start down this road, there's no going back.
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