Anthony, Sören and Mark were going to see New Year's Eve fireworks in Portland, but the event was canceled due to a surge in COVID-19 cases. Instead, they have a small party at home, just the three of them, with sparkling cider and appetizers and pizza.
They light up their bedroom with lanterns, candles and fairy lights, and Mark takes his shirt off and gives them a concert, playing songs on his acoustic guitar, both original compositions and requests. Anthony asks for grunge songs from his 1990s youth - Soundgarden, Stone Temple Pilots, Nirvana - and Sören wants to hear smooth, sexy songs by George Michael and Sade. Once again, Mark plays "All This Love" by Debarge, pouring out his heart to them.
When the song is over, Sören and Anthony look at each other, and then they help each other up and walk over to Mark. They take turns kissing him, deep and passionate. Mark puts down his guitar, rises to his feet, and then he grabs them and pulls them closer. The three of them rub their tongues together, teasing. Mark kisses Sören hungrily, then Anthony, and moans as he watches Sören and Anthony kiss each other. They share another open-mouthed three-way kiss, tongues licking playfully, and then, arm-in-arm, they walk to the bed and get undressed.
Sören and Mark tumble onto the bed together, kissing feverishly, and just as they reach out for Anthony to pull him, Anthony makes a "wait" gesture, and goes over to the dresser of toys... then the bedroom closet. He tucks a sheet protector under his arm, and is carrying their leashes, and a paddle. Mark's cunt throbs in anticipation, already so hard and wet for them.
"You want to make a video?" Anthony asks.
"Yes," Sören and Mark say in unison. Mark still can't believe he's doing porn, but he loves that feeling of reveling in his sluttiness, being proud and unashamed... so defiant, after the oppression of the Valar.
Anthony puts the leashes and paddle down, sets up the cameras, then he walks out, and comes back with the bottle of sparkling cider that they didn't finish. Mark and Sören get up, and Anthony turns down the covers, spreads out the sheet protector, turns on the cameras, and Mark and Sören tumble down to the bed again, this time taking Anthony with them. Anthony lands on top of them, laughing, his face lit up. They take turns kissing some more, and after another delicious three-way tongue-rubbing kiss, Anthony gets that wicked grin on his face as he holds out the leashes.
He clips a leash through Sören's collar, then Mark's. He ties Sören's leash to one bedpost, and Mark's leash to another. Anthony maneuvers Sören into place. "Face down, arse up."
Sören does as he's told, getting down on all fours, thrusting his ass out at them. Mark can see how creamy Sören is, and he moans appreciatively at the sight of it. Anthony gives Mark a kiss, and then he brandishes the paddle. "Twenty spankings," Anthony tells Sören.
Sören nods. "Yes, Daddy."
Mark watches as Anthony counts, the paddle smacking Sören's left ass cheek, then his right, back and forth, back and forth, turning Sören's ass a lovely shade of red, making Sören pant and whimper, trembling. Anthony only goes up to ten before he stops, which confuses Mark - then again, Anthony hits hard, maybe his wrist needs a rest - but then Anthony turns to Mark with a smirk and hands him the paddle. "Your turn," Anthony says. "Help me punish this slut."
"Fuck yes." Mark's cunt twinges in response and he feels himself dripping cream down his thighs. As much as he loves being submissive, there's something thrilling about Anthony trusting him with co-domming Sören.
As the paddle cracks down on Sören's left ass cheek, Mark feels that rush. And again as the paddle slaps the right ass cheek. It's satisfying to redden Sören's ass some more, hear Sören cry out, watch Sören's cunt dripping. By the time Mark reaches ten, the wet spot on the sheet protector has grown, and Sören's thighs are slick. Mark resists the urge to lap up those juices, waiting for Anthony's command.
Anthony takes the paddle from Mark, and then he surveys their handiwork. Anthony tenderly rubs Sören's ass. "Now that's how you ring in the New Year," Anthony says, and smacks Sören's ass with his bare hand. Sören cries out again, and lets out the most adorable little whimper. Mark's breath hitches, wanting.
Anthony kisses Mark, and then Anthony reaches for the bottle of sparkling cider. He pours cider down Sören's back, making Sören gasp. Anthony pulls Mark down with him and they lick up the cider from Sören's back, paying special attention to his sensitive spine. Sören howls with frustration and Mark groans, trying not to touch himself or rub himself against Sören's body, going out of his mind with lust as he tastes the cider on Sören's bare flesh. Once again Mark admires the ink on Sören's back - the phoenixes, the symbolism of why they're there.
The deeper symbolism that Sören isn't consciously aware of - being Fëanor, rising from the smoke and ashes into a new incarnation.
Mark nuzzles Sören's back, gives tender, reverent little kisses, before he licks some more. Mark and Anthony get every last drop, even licking cider from Sören's ass cheeks and crack. Sören is a panting, trembling mess, and Mark wants to fuck him senseless.
Anthony, however, has other plans. "Now it's your turn, slut. Twenty spankings," Anthony says. He shoves Mark down. "On all fours."
Mark gets on his hands and knees, sticking his ass out - spreading so they can see how wet he is. Anthony gives a little hum of approval and then he says, "One."
Mark braces himself, and the paddle slaps his left ass cheek, thudding and stinging. Mark cries out as the pain radiates, shooting and throbbing... and his cunt twinges, dripping again.
"Two," Anthony says, and the paddle smacks Mark's right ass cheek. Mark cries out again - so much power in Anthony's hand, searing his flesh, pulsing into his bone. Mark loves it, wanting his ass red for them, theirs. He submits, surrenders, giving himself as an offering, agony become ecstasy, pain become pleasure, because he loves, he trusts, he burns.
After Anthony has counted to ten, it's Sören's turn. "One," Sören says, and smacks Mark's ass with the paddle.
Submitting to Sören - who usually is himself submissive - is a whole new thrill. He imagines Sören must feel the same way spanking his ass as he felt spanking Sören's ass, and that fuels Mark's lust even hotter, crying out louder as Sören spanks each side of his sore ass. When Sören is done, Sören rubs Mark's ass and leans down to kiss it. "Elskan," Sören says softly.
Just that one word - feeling the tenderness of his touch, the breath against his skin - almost makes Mark come, whining as his cunt throbs and he can feel himself getting harder, wetter.
Mark is prepared for the cider pouring over him but it still comes as a shock, making him gasp and cry out at the sensation of the cool liquid flowing over his sensitized flesh. Then Anthony's and Sören's tongues are all over him, licking the cider from his back and ass cheeks, teasing his spine, making him shiver. They lick and lick, driving him wild, his entire body singing with exquisite pleasure.
When the cider has been licked clean, Mark watches Sören and Anthony kiss open-mouthed, tongues licking, sharing the lingering taste of it - Mark loves watching them kiss, and groans, aching to touch himself, so pent up that he could come just watching them kiss as he pleasures himself. But he holds back, knowing he hasn't been given permission, and he knows Anthony has only just begun to tease his sluts. His cunt drips in anticipation as he watches Anthony pull back with that smug little smile on his face, the mischief sparkling in his green eyes.
"That cider was really good," Anthony says, "but I'm in the mood for champagne."
Sören's eyebrows shoot up and he cocks his head to one side. "Elskan, you don't drink."
Anthony smirks. "Why do you think I got the sheet protector out?"
It takes Sören a moment and then he facepalms, realizing. "Oh. Oh my god."
"You know... if you want to."
Sören kisses him hard, and then he grabs Mark's hair and pulls him up to kiss him too. "I think we want to," Sören says. "Right, elskan?"
"Damn straight." Mark grins. "Well, none of this is straight."
Anthony chuckles, and kisses Mark. "You can go first," Anthony tells him.
Anthony and Sören lay back, and Mark kneels over them. It takes a moment of pushing, but he's able to go, pissing over their faces - they lap at him like a fountain - then scooting back to piss over their bodies as Anthony and Sören kiss each other passionately, sharing Mark's pee. Mark groans at the sight of their chests and stomachs glistening, his cunt feeling like it's on fire from the surge of lust over such a primal, animal act.
Sören and Mark trade places. Mark lays next to Anthony and takes his hand and Sören lets loose, pissing at their faces and their chests and stomachs. Mark spreads and Sören aims another arc of piss right at Mark's cunt, and Mark climaxes, moaning. Even without permission, but he can't help it.
"Slut," Anthony says, and kisses him. Mark moans into the kiss, tasting Sören's brine like a sacrament.
Then it's Anthony's turn. Sören and Mark snuggle together and Anthony kneels - Mark moans at the sight of how engorged Anthony's little cock is, ready to fuck. Anthony sprays a mighty torrent of hot piss all over them, pissing and pissing, and Sören and Mark play with each other's pussies as they lap at the flow, as Anthony marks his territory, claiming them as his own. "Mine," Anthony growls, and Mark almost comes again, loving that feeling of belonging to them. Being Anthony's slut.
Anthony leans down and kisses each of them in turn, then they rub their tongues together. Sören and Mark kiss deeply as Anthony kisses and licks and nibbles Sören's neck, then Mark's. "You're going to have love bites tomorrow," Anthony rasps, nipping at Mark's neck harder.
"Mmmm, good." Mark licks at Sören's tongue, then sucks on it.
"Here," Anthony says, pulling Mark's hair. "Since you were such a slut and came without permission, you can help me make this slut come."
Mark and Anthony work on Sören together, licking the piss from his nipples and chest and stomach and sides and thighs, kissing, biting. Sören arches to them, panting, spread for them so they can see how utterly soaked he is. At last Anthony starts licking Sören's cock, sucks on it while Mark suckles one of Sören's pierced nipples and plays with the other, and when Anthony's tongue dips inside Sören, Mark's tongue slides down and he joins Anthony at Sören's cunt, licking and sucking on Sören's cock while Anthony tongue-fucks him. They trade places a few minutes later, Anthony slurping away at Sören's cock as Mark's tongue lashes inside him, savoring the stronger, musky taste, the hint of piss.
They keep trading off, one licking and sucking Sören while the other tongue-fucks him, until Sören is a writhing, whimpering wreck, and finally with Sören's hard little cock in Mark's mouth, Mark feels Sören's cock twitching and pulsing in his mouth, and Anthony groans, feeling Sören contract on his tongue. "Oh, fuck," Anthony groans, pulling back for Sören to gush on his face.
Mark licks Anthony's face clean, then he lays back and Anthony and Sören give him the same treatment, kissing him all over, teasing and teasing. Mark cries out when he feels Anthony's tongue on his sensitized cock, and Sören pleasures Mark's nipples, licking and suckling one as he pinches and pulls the other, sucking and tugging harder and harder. At last Anthony grabs a fistful of Sören's curls and yanks him down, and Sören sucks at Mark's cock, humming, as Anthony's tongue fucks him. Having both mouths on him is so intensely pleasurable and Mark loses himself in sensation. As badly as he needs to come again he can't get enough of their tongues, loving him, pleasing him. His body has been starving for this for decades, and it feels so good to just be taken care of like this, spoiled with such delicious lovemaking.
Just before Mark can come, Anthony pulls off, bringing Sören with him. Mark whines with protest and Anthony laughs. "Oh no, you were naughty, coming without permission when my husband pissed on you," Anthony scolds, wagging his finger, though his eyes are shining and Mark knows he's not really upset, this is just a game.
A wicked, luscious game. Mark's cunt throbs, wanting Anthony all the more for being dominated like this, craving him.
"Now you have to watch while I fuck this slut," Anthony says, and shoves Sören back. "You better not touch yourself, either."
While Mark knows touching himself might lead to more punishment and that might be fun, he doesn't want to take the chance that Anthony might deny him release altogether. So he lays there, watching as Anthony and Sören rub together, Sören's right leg on Anthony's shoulder, Anthony sensuously working his hips, running his hands over Sören's body. The wet slurping, smacking sound of their cunts drives Mark mad with lust and he feels himself dripping down his legs, fighting the urge to touch himself with every fiber of his being. Sören's broken cries make it even harder to resist... and the fierce look on Anthony's face, the heat in his eyes as he takes what he wants, and Sören loves it, giving his all. Soon the sound of wet pussy is louder than Sören's moans as Anthony rides him hard, panting, his hair mussed and damp with sweat, a sheen of sweat on his chest hair. Anthony pinches Sören's nipples and Sören squeaks with pleasure.
"Daddy," Sören says, his voice breathy and urgent, "Daddy, I'm so close..."
"Yeah, you gonna come, little slut?"
"So close, so close, Daddy, please, Daddy, please make me come, Daddy, please..."
Anthony fits his hard little cock inside Sören and one hand slides down to vigorously rub Sören's cock. Mark almost comes untouched as he watches Anthony fuck Sören. Anthony breathes harder, looking like he's about to come too. After a moment of Anthony fucking Sören and his hand furiously rubbing him, making obscene wet slurping sounds, Sören lets out a squeal and Anthony cries out, collapsing onto Sören, gasping for breath. Mark sighs - it's so beautiful when they come together... perfect harmony. It's like watching a symphony brought to life. Mark is a little in awe of the passion between them, so like Fëanor and Finarfin so long ago. Their bodies are different now, but the song remains the same.
Anthony and Sören hold each other, coming down from their climax, and Mark lays there frustrated, wanting to come. After a little while Anthony and Sören rub noses and exchange sweet little kisses, which become deeper, and after they rub their tongues together, Sören tells Anthony, "Daddy, I think our pet needs some love." Sören is careful not to use Mark's name while the cameras are rolling.
"I think you're right," Anthony says, and turns to Mark with that wicked grin.
Anthony mounts Mark, putting Mark's leg on his shoulder as he did Sören, and Sören watches as Anthony fucks Mark hard. Mark rocks his hips back at Anthony, in heat for it, the rhythm of their cocks and lips teasing more and more delicious. Mark feels that tension building and building until he's shaking, trying to beg and not able to make words, only animal noises. Anthony's sweaty body moving with such raw power and yet sensual grace is so beautiful, and Mark worships him with his eyes, with each thrust of his hips, wanting to stay lost in this space of surrender as long as he can. Then Anthony's cock is inside him the same way it was with Sören - knowing Anthony's cock is coated with Sören's juices and Sören can be inside him this way makes it even hotter. Anthony's fingers and palm frenziedly work Mark's cock, and after a long moment where Mark feels like he's going to explode, their eyes lock and Anthony growls. "Come, slut," Anthony snarls.
Mark screams as he comes hard, contracting and contracting, and Anthony comes too, his cock twitching inside Mark's cunt, gushing as his body heaves and spasms. "Oh, fuck," Anthony calls out. "Fuck. Fuck. SHIT."
The contractions feel endless. Mark feels like he's floating in space. He can feel himself smiling and he laughs with the rush of euphoria. Anthony kisses him, and then Sören comes over and kisses him too.
They still aren't done - Mark knows Sören got all worked up watching them fuck and needs to come again, and Anthony knows it too. "I want to watch some slut-on-slut love," Anthony says. He goes over and comes back with a wand vibrator, and then he puts the vibe down, unties their leashes, taking one leash in each hand - he wraps Sören's leash around his left wrist.
Mark and Sören get into a scissors position, facing each other, and start rubbing together while Anthony watches, using the wand on himself. When Mark and Sören fuck harder, panting, moaning, Anthony turns up his vibe higher, groaning along with them. Mark and Sören fuck feverishly, getting closer and closer to the edge - there's something so debauched about both of them being on leashes, and it drives Mark wild, their sloppy pussies making the most filthy sounds as they fuck like their lives depend on it, putting on a show for their Master, proving what sluts they are.
Mark and Sören take each other's hands and come together, screaming - Mark loves that feeling of coming at the same time with Sören, so close to him - and then a few seconds later Anthony cries out as he squirts all over them, like a baptism. The sight of Anthony squirting, the feel of his hot love juices all over them, makes Mark pulse even harder, crying out, gushing himself, and Sören gushes too, still contracting against him. Squirting into Sören and feeling Sören squirt into him is so good, and Mark sighs, toes curling, shivering at the wonderful, full-body release.
Anthony comes over and the three of them tangle up together, kissing, nuzzling, holding and rocking each other, giggling with happiness. Anthony looks at the clock and then so does Mark - it's two minutes to midnight. They wait, and then they yell "HAPPY NEW YEAR" and kiss some more, holding each other tighter.
For the first time in decades, Mark thinks it's going to be a good year.
They cuddle for awhile, and then at twelve-thirty, Anthony says, "OK, we need to shower and get this thing in the wash."
Anthony strips the bed, and Anthony and Mark make the bed together while Sören starts the laundry. On his way back, Mark hears Sören start the shower, and then Sören lingers in the bedroom doorway. "You boys joining me?"
Mark swallows hard. He's never showered with them before, even though Sören and Anthony sometimes shower together. There's no way he can really decline this time without it looking bad, so he follows Anthony and Sören to the bathroom even though he knows what's about to happen might put a damper on the festivities... but he also knows that living with them, his secret is bound to come out one way or the other, and better they find out now.
It takes about five minutes before they see his ears, once they're lathering his hair. "Oh wow," Sören says, finger tracing the pointy tip. "You got elf ears done? I didn't know you were a body mod enthusiast, would have thought you'd said something considering my piercings and ink."
Mark gives a nervous little laugh, then he meets Anthony's eyes. He can practically see the gears turning in Anthony's head. Elf ear body mods didn't get popular until fairly recently, and in Mark's fabricated backstory, he's claimed to be homeless since he left the Canadian Armed Forces in 2018. Body mods cost money, and it would seem ridiculous for someone to get elf ear surgery within the last three years while homeless and struggling to feed oneself... and it wasn't the sort of thing Mark could have gotten done during six years in the service, nor would have been acceptable upon enlisting.
Mark waits until the shower is done. Anthony and Sören are getting into their pajamas, and Mark does not, because what he's about to do will be more believable if he's naked and they can see he doesn't have any special remote controls in his clothing or anything like that. "Hey, guys?" Mark clears his throat. "I have something to show you."
"Oh?" Anthony's eyebrows shoot up.
"Turn off the lights, though? This'll work better if the lights are off."
Once the bedroom is in complete darkness, Mark drops his glamour. Anthony gasps and Sören startles with a squeak as Mark's hair falls to his waist and he glows softly silver like a living lamp. His eyes meet theirs and he can tell they see his real, unglamoured eyes, a very pale grey with flashes of blue and gold like labradorite.
"You." Anthony points, not able to make words. "You. You. You."
"Þú ert einn af huldufólkinu," Sören says, his voice hushed with reverence.
Mark nods. "I spent some time in Iceland, about six hundred years ago, before I came here to the US before it was the US and was still a British colony."
"You." Anthony takes a step back, and ends up falling over. "How. What. Who."
Mark gets dressed in his own pajamas, and leads them out to the living room. He feeds the cats and then makes tea - this calls for tea, at least where Anthony's concerned - and once it's ready he sits down in the armchair, still unglamoured, though his glow is less intense with the lights on. For a long moment Anthony and Sören just sit there staring, and finally Mark breaks the silence.
"I'm an open book, if you have questions," Mark says.
Anthony purses his lips. "When you told us you were a sniper in the Canadian army, that was bullshit."
"I'm sorry." Mark gives a sad smile. "I hope you understand why I didn't tell you right away. I know how crazy this is. I have been in wars - I've been in the American Revolution, I've been in the Civil War, I've been in both World Wars, though I dodged Vietnam. I've been in other conflicts, other ages. So yes, the Canadian Armed Forces sniper thing was a lie, but there's a grain of truth to it, I've seen war more times than I can count."
"What are you?" Anthony asks. "Are you... like... an alien?"
"He's one of the huldufólk," Sören says. "It's like... a world within our world."
"Yes," Mark says, "but that's oversimplifying it." Mark leans back - here comes the most unbelievable part of his explanation. "I am, as far as I know, the last of my kind in your world, but there's been at least a few people who, for lack of a better way of putting it, were part of my world, died, and were reborn in yours. One of them was a man named John Ronald Reuel Tolkien -"
"Wait, WHAT." Anthony's jaw drops.
Mark goes on, "On his grave he has the name Beren, and his wife's grave has the name Lúthien. This is because they were Beren and Lúthien, a long long time ago - JRR Tolkien wrote from the memories of his past life. I am very sure his son Christopher was Pengolodh. You may recall that when our friendship first began, I asked if you've ever read the Silmarillion. That is the story of my family, though it's colored by Tolkien's dislike of my family, and my cousin Finrod only gave Beren some of the details."
"Your... cousin." Anthony leans back and folds his arms. "You're. You're a Tolkien character."
"More or less. I belong to myself, not him." Mark smiles.
"So which one are you? Not Legolas," Sören says.
"No, not Legolas. Well, I'm in the Silmarillion, which you haven't read. The Sindarin version of my name is Maglor, but I prefer the Quenya version. Macalaurë is my mother name, and Kanafinwë is the name my father gave me. I usually go by an alias similar to my mother name - Mark Lauer, currently - to blend in among humans without making a slip that could potentially lead to my story falling through and some sticky situations. You can still call me Mark. It would be safer, anyway."
"You realize how daft this sounds," Anthony says, holding out a hand. "Utterly bonkers."
"I do, which is why I didn't want to tell you. I didn't feel great about lying to you, but I didn't really know how to have this conversation with you, both being non-human in and of itself, and what that implies."
"What... that... implies." Anthony narrows his eyes. "What do you mean."
"You do realize I'm immortal," Mark says. "I've been alive for thousands of years. Humans live much shorter lifespans. It starts to look really weird if I stay in one place for decades, looking young while I should be old. Yes, I can glamour myself to look older but only to a point - it's very taxing just to keep up the level of glamour that I do to hide the length of my hair, my eyes, the shine, never mind try to age myself. And I don't have the same kinds of health problems humans get. I got vaccinated against COVID anyway when there were free vaccines available, just because I didn't want to take the chance this would be the one thing that does me in, considering it's killed previously healthy, young humans, but I don't get cancer, heart disease, etcetera, and that too looks suspicious."
"So..." Anthony blinks slowly, and Mark gets the sense Anthony already figured this out, but Mark is going to spell it out anyway.
"So, I don't stay in one place very long. Since 9/11 it's become a lot harder to exist without identification of some kind, which has made being homeless a lot trickier. I used to move around once every ten to twenty years but now I usually move around with the seasons. This has been the longest I've stayed in one place since 9/11. I can get away with pretending to be twenty-seven and stay here for awhile, but I can't stay here forever, and I don't think it's fair to ask you to uproot your lives to come with me in a few years, especially when there are risks to harboring a non-human without identification as people have less and less privacy and more and more demands for verifying one's identity."
Anthony and Sören look at each other. Sören's eyes mist and he covers his mouth - Mark can feel their hearts breaking, and his is breaking too. He wants to stay with them, but he knows realistically he can't without possibly putting them, or himself, in danger.
Anthony drinks his tea, taking it all in, while Sören sits there unable to speak, and Mark can tell Sören is trying not to cry. At last Anthony gets up, and takes Sören with him down the hall. Mark doesn't follow them - he knows they need some alone time - and then a few minutes later they come back dressed in sweaters and jeans, and Anthony grabs his trenchcoat from the coat rack. "We're going out for a drive," Anthony says, "to talk. We'll be back in about an hour."
"OK," Mark says. "That's fair."
It's the longest hour of Mark's life, feeling like he's on trial and awaiting a verdict.
At last Anthony and Sören come back and they have hot chocolate for Mark from one of the convenience stores open 24/7. The hot chocolate feels like a peace offering - as if Anthony and Sören aren't going to hold the lies against him, even if they haven't quite forgiven him yet - and Mark smiles at it being mint, his favorite.
After their outerwear is off, Anthony sits on the arm of the couch and folds his hands between his knees. He bows his head as if in prayer - composing his words. Mark's heart beats faster, knowing this could be the end, maybe the mint hot chocolate is to soften the blow. Mark braces himself, fighting the urge to cry, meeting his possible doom with dignity as his father and uncles did.
"So, Sören and I had a long talk about all of... this, and." Anthony exhales and makes a vague hand gesture. "We're not thrilled you lied to us, but yes we understand why, and we'll let it be water under the bridge so long as you promise us that from here on out, you tell us the truth. No made-up stories about who you are and where you come from. Be honest with us. We know you lied to protect yourself, which is why we're going to let it slide, but with the nature of our kink relationship in particular we need trust and that demands honesty."
That doesn't quite sound like they're breaking up with him, but Mark waits because he knows there's more, this is Anthony.
"You're right that we don't know how we feel about leaving this all behind to come with you wherever in a few years. That feels like a very big gamble for someone we're still getting to know. I mean, Sören left Iceland for the States to be with me after only two weeks together, but that's... a very different situation, Sören wasn't really happy in Reykjavik anyway and there were a lot fewer unknown variables. We don't want to give a hard no, only that we'd cross that bridge when we come to it, and... that may not be good enough, we realize. But we're also hoping that maybe if you stay here awhile and you see you're safe with us and we'll try to minimize the situations you're in where you'd need an ID - you don't need that to live with us, or for us to feed you, and so on - you might reconsider leaving in a few years and stay with us in Maine till I'm old enough to think about retiring and the door is more open to going wherever."
"I might, but I don't know," Mark says, "and I don't want to bullshit you."
"Right." Anthony nods. "So... Sören and I have a bit of an agreement we want to run by you."
"All right."
"For the next six months - from now till sometime in June - you can stay here with us, we'll continue on our relationship. Sören and I have talked about the shop going down to four days a week instead of five, starting this month, because of my impending hysterectomy and needing to take it easier between now and then, and the recovery afterwards. That means picking up some of the slack with making more OnlyFans content. You can have a third of our subscriptions and tips, which in addition to your under-the-table pay at the shop should give you a little nest egg if, by June, you still think you're going to leave. Because, putting it bluntly, we don't want to break up with you now - we're both really attached to you, we love you, we want to be with you - but if you think you're going to leave, six months means we won't be as devastated as we would be if it had been five years, ten years."
Mark sighs, and nods. That was better than being broken up with right away, but it still hurts, and yet he also understands they have to be practical - Anthony and Sören have to protect their relationship - and this is the best he can expect under the circumstances. "You have a deal," Mark says.
"Good." Anthony holds out his arms.
Mark puts down his hot cocoa and goes over to Anthony for a hug, and Sören hugs both of them. Mark desperately wants to stay - losing Fëanor and Finarfin all over again is going to hurt - but he doesn't want to inflict this life on them, moving from place to place, having to keep everyone at an arm's length to avoid unraveling the web of lies. He doesn't want to watch them die all over again, especially not Sören.
Sören tousles Mark's hair, and finally he speaks. "I should have known you were one of the huldufólk. You're too beautiful to be human."
Mark smiles and gets choked up.
Sören squeezes Mark tighter. "I love you, Kanafinwë."
Hearing Sören call him by his father-name - the name Fëanor gave him - breaks the dam and Mark falls apart, sobbing in their arms.
"Oh no," Anthony says, petting Mark. "Oh, honey no. Sweetheart, it's OK. We want you to stay with us, we want you to share our lives. We love you..."
Mark cries harder. He wants that too. Tears unnumbered ye shall shed. It's the Doom all over again, reuniting with his family just for it to not work to stay together... or even if it does, they're mortal and they'll die someday. Someday too soon, by Mark's standards - decades are really nothing to him.
Anthony starts crying too, and tears silently spill down Sören's cheeks - and then Sören starts giggling hysterically.
"What," Anthony says. Mark worries for an instant that Sören is having a breakdown, that this is too much for him.
But then Sören says, "Kanafinwë." He puts out his hands with a pained expression on his face and yells, "KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN."
Mark facepalms, shaking with silent laughter, sides heaving, and Anthony doubles over, wheezing. "Oh shit, oh god, oh fuck," Anthony gasps.
"KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN," Sören screams. Seamus meows back at him which makes it even funnier.
Anthony holds up an index finger, his face lights up, and he bounces out of the group hug and over to the stereo. After a minute or two of fiddling with his record collection, he puts on one, and a deep male voice raps:
Chaka-Chaka-Chaka-Chaka Khan
Chaka Khan, Chaka Khan, Chaka Khan
Chaka Khan, let me rock you
Let me rock you, Chaka Khan
Let me rock you, that's all I wanna do
Chaka Khan, let me rock you
Let me rock you, Chaka Khan
Let me rock you, 'cause I feel for you
"OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDD," Sören hollers. Mark laughs harder, falling on the floor, literally rolling on the floor laughing. Seamus climbs on him and headbutts him in the face.
Anthony starts breakdancing across the living room to "I Feel For You" by Chaka Khan, and Sören joins in.
"You fucking dorks," Mark says, but he wouldn't have it any other way.
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