Anthony is glad Valentine's Day is on a Monday this year - one of their usual days off for the shop - because after the five days off for his birthday earlier that month he can't justify closing the shop down for Valentine's Day or to recover the day after, even with two partners to spoil.
But today he can just enjoy himself with the men he loves, and that's what he intends to do. He's set some money aside to take Sören and Mark to dinner at a Thai restaurant, and then when they get back, he's planned on an evening of sensual, kinky lovemaking.
He wants to spend the entire day in bed, but they have chores to do, and it's when Anthony is cleaning the catboxes - not the most romantic task in the world - that he gets the phone call that changes everything.
It's from his cousin Judith, his mother's brother's eldest daughter. Judith and Antonia were friendly if not especially close; Anthony hasn't seen Judith since his wedding to Sören, and he talks to Judith only a few times a year, since Judith is busy with her two children and international calls are expensive. Anthony spoke to Judith last on his birthday a couple weeks ago, and he wonders why the phone call today.
"Hi," Anthony says, accepting the call right away. "How are you?" A pause, as he realizes this probably isn't a casual, shoot-the-breeze call.
"Anthony," Judith says. "Your mother died an hour ago. I just got the news."
Anthony's jaw drops. He doesn't even know what to say. It isn't like he's completely unprepared for this - he saw his mother's cancer taking a turn for the worse, chemo and radiation ravaging her and still not enough, it was spreading - but he thought he had at least a little more time, till March.
Anthony sits on the kitchen floor in silent shock, until Judith says, "Anthony. Are you there?"
"Um. Yeah. Sorry." Anthony clears his throat and tries to pull himself together.
"I'm going to buy you a plane ticket if you can fly out tomorrow. I'm sorry this is such short notice. She went so quickly -" Judith breaks down sobbing.
Anthony's eyes blur but he doesn't start to cry. Not just yet. "Oh god. That's very generous of you. My uncle Nigel had offered to take care of my visit next month -"
"Well, if he can pick you up at Heathrow and handle where you'll be staying that'll be more convenient, but I don't mind paying for your flight."
Judith purchases the ticket while Anthony stays on the line, and he prints off the documentation he needs. Sören and Anthony come down from where they're dusting and vacuuming the bedrooms just as the call is over. Anthony is sitting on the couch now, and he just sits with his phone in his hand, not sure how to break the news. Saying it aloud makes it real.
Sören figures it out. "It's your mum?"
Anthony nods. "I'm flying out to London tomorrow at six in the morning our time, which means I have to get to Logan Airport at arse o'clock." Anthony throws his phone down on the coffee table and buries his face in his hands, trying to hold up just a little longer...
Sören and Mark come over and hold him and Anthony breaks, sobbing. "She's gone," Anthony chokes out. "She's gone and I didn't know she was dying, I feel like an idiot for trying to wait until March to see her, I should have realized -"
"Shhhh, elskan." Sören squeezes him.
"I'm so sorry," Mark says, his voice husky, sharing Anthony's pain. He rocks them and strokes Anthony's hair. "I'm so sorry."
Anthony doesn't know what to say or how to say it. Even though he reconciled with his mother in 2010 after she got clean, twelve years doesn't feel like long enough, especially with him living across the pond since 2013.
Anthony keeps crying, unable to find words for his feelings, overwhelmed by the intensity - like a storm is raging inside him, like he is the storm. Sören and Mark take him to bed, wrap him in blankets, and cuddle him.
That night there is no dinner out, no lovemaking. On top of his grief, Anthony feels a stab of guilt for this Valentine's Day being ruined - and every Valentine's Day thereafter being the anniversary of when his mother died - even though he knows his partners aren't judging him for it, this couldn't be helped. And Sören and Mark show their love by holding him, petting him, just being there for him, the sea wall against the tidal waves of his grief.
The hours pass in a blur. Anthony is vaguely aware of Mark arranging for the transport service to Logan early in the morning, and at some point there is food, and Mark and Sören make him eat, even though he's not hungry. Later that night, Anthony drifts in and out of sleep - not really completely falling asleep, just a half-asleep haze of numb grief.
At last Anthony's alarm goes off and he wheels his suitcase outside to meet the driver for the Uber. He hasn't showered or brushed his teeth and he feels disgusting, but he can take care of that once he touches down in London. Sören and Mark go outside in the freezing cold, with outerwear over their pajamas, to hug and kiss him goodbye, and Anthony falls apart again, trying not to be morbid and worry that something might happen and this will be the last time he ever sees them. He promises to call the minute he's at Heathrow, and they'll keep in touch over phone and e-mail.
Anthony tries to keep his wits about him and not doze off, exhausted, in the back seat of the cab. "Where are you going?" the driver asks, then adds, "I mean, from the airport."
Anthony purses his lips. "Hell."
The driver flinches in the rear-view mirror and Anthony realizes that was awkward. "London," Anthony says. "My mum just died."
"Ah, I'm so sorry." The driver nods.
Anthony steels himself against another storm of tears. He doesn't need to be hysterical in public like this, even if the response is understandable. Anthony leans back and rubs his face like an annoyed wet cat. He hates flying and he can feel his anxiety kicking up - hating it now more than ever because of what's on the other side.
Breathe, Anthony tells himself, and takes a few deep breaths. You got this.
But it's not like court. He's already lost.
Nigel and Steve come to pick him up at Heathrow, and while they wait at the baggage claim, Anthony calls Sören to check in and let him know he survived the flight.
Nigel's house in Blackheath is just as Anthony remembers it - a modest blue two-story house with a porch, a garage, a shed. The guest room - formerly his bedroom, when they raised Antonia after Roger's death and Elaine's descent into alcoholism, and when Antonia came back and became Anthony, after leaving his own Steve - still has the same dove-grey walls and neutral-color bedding, curtains, and decor. Comfortingly familiar and yet also a painful reminder of an old life that he's left far behind. Anthony parks his suitcase and flops on the bed, exhausted.
Nigel gives him a little while to just rest in silence after the flight and then he stands in the guest room doorway. "Tony? Did you eat on the flight?"
Nigel and Steve are the only people in the world who can get away with calling him Tony.
"Wasn't hungry," Anthony mutters.
"Yeah, but you need to eat something."
Anthony sits up and looks at an older, taller and more buff, white-haired version of himself wearing scuffed jeans and a navy blue thermal shirt, though Nigel has blue eyes like Roger did. Antonia favored her mother, but when Anthony started transition people noted the resemblance to his paternal uncle; Anthony's other uncle had an obnoxious son named Alistair who'd once made a crack that "if Nige wasn't such a pouf I'd think he was bonking Elaine." Nigel has aged well - he still keeps active - but is obviously an old man, looking older and more weathered for his concerned frown. Anthony sits up.
Nigel and Steve take Anthony out to a pub for dinner - Anthony isn't really in the mood to deal with crowds and noise, though he knows his uncles flaunt the gay stereotype with neither being domestically inclined and Antonia had to learn how to cook or eat fish and chips all the time, early on. To Anthony's dismay there aren't a lot of vegetarian options on the menu but he decides eating a burger isn't going to kill him, knowing grief has taken a toll on his body - already suffering with fibroids - and this is just the beginning; he'll be in the UK for a week and he knows he's in for an emotional rollercoaster.
Dinner is still a quiet affair - Nigel and Steve know Anthony needs his space after the very long flight and processing the initial round of grief and shock, and Nigel and Steve are both old queers where being able to be out and proud is a more recent development so they don't want to get too much into catching up about their personal lives here in public. Anthony is grateful that they're not pressing him to talk, and he eats what he can, and Steve is happy to finish off Anthony's chips - Anthony can't believe Steve still inhales food at his age and yet manages to stay skinny.
Cannabis is still illegal in the UK, but Nigel and Steve discreetly grow some between Nigel's PTSD and Steve's chronic pain, and once they get back from dinner, Anthony smokes a bowl with his uncles and is able to go from that agitated, overstimulated place back to a numb haze. He goes to bed early and actually sleeps for a full night, but wakes up crying in the twilight before dawn, and wakes up Nigel without meaning to.
Nigel doesn't complain, but quietly takes Anthony out for a drive, all the way out to Lee Valley on the outskirts of Chingford, where Nigel and Steve used to take Antonia camping back in the 1990s. Mute swans don't migrate for the winter, and watching the swans at sunrise with the frozen pond and the snow-and-ice-capped trees is soothing. Anthony loves swans. He's always loved swans. He remembers when Antonia begged Nigel for a pet swan.
Anthony thinks of the painting Sören made and gave him at Christmas, of Anthony as a "swan prince", with long blond hair. And elven looks. In a place that felt like home, even though Anthony was sure he'd never been there, with swan ships in the distance under a golden sky. Anthony remembers Mark's words from New Year's: 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. A frisson goes down Anthony's spine, wondering if his path crossed with Mark's because they'd known each other before.
That's utterly daft. Your mum just died, your brain is obviously breaking a little, no need to go down that rabbit hole. Anthony smacks himself internally.
But as he watches the dawn break gold through silver clouds, the world lit up in shades of silver-gold, the swans in their grace, there's still that lingering feeling that he didn't meet Mark just by chance... or Sören, either.
If only he can figure out what it is, and convince Mark to stay. The prospect of losing Mark in June feels too soon after this, and yet...
You need to stop, Anthony admonishes himself. Stop losing your mind. Get it together.
Some swans strut over to him, but aren't hissing and snapping like their territory is threatened - they seem curious. "I don't have any food for you," Anthony tells them, like they can understand.
Nigel chuckles. "They know you love them, and they know you're sad."
That's a cute thought, but Anthony doesn't think swans are like cats, who know when their humans need comfort. And yet, one of the swans seems to bow a little, before they go back to their business.
Anthony rubs his eyes, wondering if he's hallucinating in his grief and shock.
The next day Anthony sleeps too much, and when he's not sleeping he just lays there, feeling the leaden weight of his loss. Feeling regret for the years they didn't get together - Elaine's fault, drinking, which makes Anthony feel slightly bitter, and guilty for his bitterness, knowing Elaine drank to cope with her own grief.
Feeling grateful that they did get at least some years together, albeit separated by an ocean, and that his mother accepted him when he came out as trans, even though she had been very invested in having the daughter she always wanted, a little princess. Anthony knew too many people whose families didn't accept them - Sören's whole biological family, Mark's mother - and he knew that for all her flaws, Elaine still truly loved him and he had loved her and wanted so desperately to have a normal, healthy relationship with his mother.
Nigel and Steve make him eat - Steve does a fry-up and manages to burn half the food, and Anthony wonders how they haven't had heart attacks yet from all the fried animal products they consume. Anthony talks to Sören and Mark on the phone, and in e-mail, and sits up for awhile to do video chat with them when it's late and he should be sleeping so he isn't even more rundown at the funeral tomorrow morning, but he can't sleep, and spending time in Sören and Mark's presence, even by video chat, is soothing. Anthony tells them about Nigel taking him to Lee Valley to see the swans, and Mark gets that haunted look in his eye and once again Anthony wonders if there's something more going on beneath the surface that Mark is aware of and he's not, but Anthony doesn't press it. Instead, he fakes good cheer. "Maybe later this year or sometime next year when things suck less, I can show you guys Lee Valley. You'd love it." That's assuming Mark will stay with them past June, but he's trying to plan for the future, even as his heart is afraid.
That night Anthony can't sleep well, for having slept most of the day, and once again he wakes up Nigel with crying, who takes him on a late-night drive, this time to go stargazing outside the light pollution of London. Anthony thinks of how his mum will never see a night sky again, and he sobs harder. Nigel holds him like he's a child again.
"I won't tell you it will be all right," Nigel says. "It's never all right." Nigel would know, with his PTSD. "Only that with time... it feels less intense, less shattering. The grief is there in the background. A little salt in the wound now and again, a little bitterness with the sweet."
"I feel like the entire goddamn Dead Sea," Anthony says. "I know people get old and they die, but it still feels too soon. I already lost her once, when I was a kid, and you and Uncle Steve had to take over and be responsible."
"I know. I won't blow smoke up your arse, Tony. But you're going to get through this. You have people who love you."
Anthony thinks of Mark, and how many times Mark has looked at these same stars across the Ages. Carrying the grief of his entire family, gone. Carrying the fire of their memory - letting them shine from far away across time, like the distant light of stars.
He wishes Mark and Sören were here with him, now. In the back of his mind, Anthony can hear Mark singing:
How I wish, how I wish you were here
We're just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl
Year after year
Running over the same old ground
What have we found?
The same old fears
Wish you were here
Elaine is Anglican and it's customary for the service to be two to three days after the death. Anthony is exhausted - again - the morning of the funeral, but he still makes himself go.
It's the first time Anthony's worn a suit since his wedding, though his wedding suit was a goth outfit, dark grey with a faint damask jacquard pattern. This is one of the suits from when Anthony worked for the ACLU in New York City - black suit and necktie, white dress shirt, black brogues. The winter sun is too harsh and bright on Anthony's tired eyes and he arrives at the church wearing aviator glasses both to shield his eyes from the sun and to disguise, at least at first, how tired and sad his eyes are, even though he knows nobody expects Elaine's only child to be emotionless.
Anthony was offered the eulogy and he declined - too upset to be coherent, despite years of putting together speeches and papers for court - and the eulogy falls to Elaine's brother Desmond instead. Anthony zones out through it, feeling like his mind is disconnecting from his body, wishing he didn't have to be here with dozens of pallbearers. Elaine has requested to be cremated instead of buried - even though Roger was buried - due to environmental concerns with taking up more land with a gravestone. This means Anthony can take some of the ashes back with him to the US, though the thought makes him slightly ill, even as he approves of cremation himself, also for environmental reasons.
At last the funeral is over but Anthony, being Elaine's son, is expected to stay and mingle and put up with expressions of sympathy from a lot of people he's never met and who he knows don't genuinely care. Anthony still feels out of it but he makes himself ground in the present...
...and that's when he notices Steve. Not Nigel's partner, Uncle Steve... but Stephen Pemberton, his ex-husband. Anthony would recognize him anywhere. They broke up in 2012 and Steve hasn't aged much since then. His auburn hair is shorter now but hasn't really gone grey yet, he's still got a dad bod, still handsome in a smug, smartass kind of way - the kind of face Sören described as "punchable" more than once.
Anthony can't help the scowl on his own face and that surge of rage as Steve makes the queue and approaches him, their first meeting in close to a decade, not since Anthony came from New York to London to handle the final divorce proceedings in-person.
"Antonia," Steve says with a fake smile. He knows perfectly damn well Anthony transitioned from female to male.
Anthony fights back a growl. Of course the bastard would deadname him. Anthony makes a riposte. "Stephanie." He sneers, letting Steve hear the ice and venom in his voice. "What are you doing here."
"Well, she was my mother-in-law too, and whatever my feelings towards you, I liked the old bird."
Anthony can't believe the disrespect with calling Elaine "the old bird" at a fucking funeral. Anthony's jaw sets and his fists clench. Anthony looks around for Trisha, who's nowhere to be seen. "I hope Trisha had enough respect to stay home and not show her face here."
"She had stuff to do. Why? Jealous?"
"Hardly. I have a husband." He's hotter than you, and a much better person than you... though that's a low fucking bar. Anthony keeps that thought to himself.
"Oh, right. Where is he?"
Anthony doesn't owe Steve an explanation about why Sören didn't come to the UK. Anthony rubs his face with annoyance - flashing his wedding ring - and then he folds his arms. "Anyway, I don't care if you liked my mum or not. She didn't like you." That wasn't a lie, though Elaine had been polite enough - and for most of the marriage, drunk enough - to keep her opinion private until the divorce was finalized. "You don't belong here."
Steve lets out a snort of disdain and chuckles. He shakes his head. "I see you haven't changed at all, apart from pretending to be a man now. You're still a miserable cunt -"
A deep, cultured, velvet voice cuts into their conversation. "Pardon me, Anthony - but is this gentleman bothering you?"
Anthony turns to face a man he's never seen before in his life, and is surprised knew his name. The man appears to be somewhere in his fifties. Very tall - six-four or six-five. Silver hair and beard, thick salt-and-pepper eyebrows over dark brown eyes, patrician nose, high cheekbones, olive complexion... handsome in a severe way, wearing an elegant black suit with a cape. Anthony is surprised he didn't notice the older man earlier, dashing as he is.
"Yes," Anthony says, noticing the sarcasm in the word "gentleman".
The man gives a curt nod and turns to Steve. "As you know, a funeral is no place to be disrespectful... and it's especially distasteful to show such bigotry. You should be ashamed of yourself, behaving like an overgrown child who came here just to make a spectacle. If you shan't leave on your own, I will have security escort you out."
Anthony tries not to laugh as Steve stalks off with a huff, looking offended at the older man calling him on his bullshit. Then Anthony feels angry all over again as Steve looks over his shoulder, and mouths the word "faggots" before he marches on.
Then Anthony realizes Steve assumes the older man is Anthony's husband, and fights the facepalm reflex.
The older man turns back to Anthony and puts out his hand. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Nicholas Decaux. I -"
"You were my mother's best friend." Anthony shakes Nicholas's hand vigorously. "I've heard so much about you but never got a chance to meet you before now." Elaine and Nicholas co-owned a gallery together in Bermondsey; Anthony knows Nicholas is gay, because Elaine brought it up in passing. He also knows Nicholas used to be a priest, quit the Catholic Church in his forties due to ethical convictions with the Church's scandals, had a "dark night of the soul" and began drinking, and Nicholas and Elaine met via Alcoholics Anonymous, but Anthony doesn't mention any of that - he's sure Nicholas knows he knows.
"She was very proud of you," Nicholas said with a little smile, eyes crinkled at the corners. "And I am very, very sorry for your loss."
"I'm sorry for yours, too," Anthony says, lowering his head.
There's a moment of awkward silence and then Nicholas says, "I am to receive some of your mother's ashes, and she requested that I scatter them at the sea at Brighton, where she enjoyed going on vacation. Would you... care to join me, tomorrow, and witness? I'd be happy to buy you lunch or supper, I'm flexible on time."
"I'd like that," Anthony says, even though "like" isn't really the word. "Thank you."
Nicholas nods and pats him on the shoulder. "Shall we trade contact information and coordinate a time?"
"Please."
Nicholas takes out his cell phone - wincing as he does. "Technology," he mutters.
Anthony grins, taking out his own cell phone.
The next day Nicholas comes to pick Anthony up at Nigel's house. He drives a black Jaguar, and is wearing a black trenchcoat with a dark grey fedora.
It's a gloomy, overcast day, the weather mirroring Anthony's mood, and the drive to Brighton is quiet, apart from Nicholas playing jazz on the way there - Herbie Hancock, Weather Report, and acid jazz like Brand New Heavies and Jamiroquai. Nicholas seems to understand Anthony needs space with his grief - as he does his own. But once they've parked and take a scenic stroll in light snow through a few streets to get to the restaurant, they open up a bit, sharing memories of Elaine, and then, some things about themselves. Nicholas feels like an old friend even though they've just met, and Anthony feels more relaxed around him than he usually does around strangers. It's not something that happens often - Sören was one of the few... and Mark.
They have a reservation at a seafood restaurant, but there's actually vegan options on the menu. Anthony has vegan sushi and a veggie rice bowl, and Nicholas talks about his love of cooking and recent foray into consuming less meat. Nicholas takes out his phone and shows Anthony some photos of himself with Elaine at the gallery they co-owned, and other fond moments - shopping, hiking, trips to Brighton. They had the same sober anniversary, and celebrated together.
Seeing photos of his mother, happy, gets Anthony choked up. He tries to keep composed in the restaurant but once they're out, Nicholas gives him a hug. Strong and gentle, like a big teddy bear. Anthony leans against him, comforted by the shield wall of Nicholas's arms and chest. There's a faint whiff of Nicholas's cologne, clean and woodsy, and Anthony likes the smell.
At the shore, they walk along the pebble beach for awhile until Nicholas decides it's time. The sun begins to peek through the clouds, as if nature has also decided it's time. Nicholas takes out the small urn of ashes and Anthony steps back and watches in silent reverence as Nicholas shakes the urn into the tide. Then Nicholas stands beside Anthony and they watch the waves take the ashes, and Anthony finds himself taking Nicholas's hand.
They sit on a blanket and watch the ocean as the snow falls at golden hour, the sky and sea silver-gold at the mingling of the light, and as the sunset begins with muted peach and lavender cutting into the grey, Nicholas breaks the long silence.
"I have a confession to make," Nicholas says.
"Oh?" Anthony is confused and a little concerned.
Nicholas nods. "I'm not simply Elaine's best friend and heard about you through her, but..." Nicholas looks around to make sure nobody is nearby and eavesdropping. He clears his throat and lowers his voice anyway. "I'm SaintNick69 on OnlyFans."
Anthony's jaw drops and his eyes widen, remembering the generous $200 tip. "You. That's... that's you."
Nicholas gives a shy, awkward little smile and looks down. "I didn't realize at the time I was watching Elaine's son and his husband, as you know you don't use your names anywhere, which is quite understandable -"
"Yeah, we don't want to get doxed. It's bad enough we show our faces and don't wear masks on camera, we thought about it but we can't get horny that way."
"Indeed. But yes, I recognize you, and I apologize if I made you uncomfortable by mentioning it -"
"It's OK," Anthony says sincerely. He gives a nervous laugh. "At least this way I don't have to worry about hiding it from you."
Nicholas glances off to the side again, cheeks pink, and then he says, "I enjoy your work. I don't want you to get the impression that I'm... what is it called... a 'chaser'. I appreciate male beauty, and the sensual, passionate love between you and your husband is an art form."
"Thank you." Anthony grins and runs a hand through his hair, then realizes he's preening, and stops himself, self-conscious. But it still feels like a nice ego-stroking, for a gay man to give such erudite compliments.
"As you know, you and your husband recently took a third partner, who is quite lovely himself. I don't suppose you would be interested in..." Nicholas's voice trails off and his blush deepens. He takes a reflexive step back, as if he suspects he's made a faux pas.
Anthony is flattered - very flattered - rather than offended. He finds Nicholas attractive, and there's that voice, and Nicholas seems like a genuinely good person. But... "My partners are back in the States, neither of them came with me to the funeral. One person flying out is complicated, never mind all three with our cats, and one of my partners has long COVID -"
"I understand."
Anthony doesn't want Nicholas to feel rejected, and goes on, "And things are new enough with our third that we would need more time for the dust to settle before we could think about playing with someone else, or more." Not to mention that third might leave come June, Anthony thinks to himself, but doesn't say aloud. Then he adds, "But... if you happen to visit the States later this year after the three of us have found our rhythm, and they're agreeable, I'm down." While he enjoys Sören and Mark's bodies, he does miss sucking cis male cock - it was the only thing he didn't hate doing with his ex-husband Steve - and the thought of a foursome with a hot silver daddy and all of the erotic potential - he and Nicholas having a contest for domination, then domming Sören and Mark together - makes him go hard and slick.
Nicholas smiles. "It happens that I was thinking about visiting New England in October to see the fall foliage, and your mother told me you live in Maine."
"Yes," Anthony says, nodding. "You should definitely come." He smirks at the double entendre.
Nicholas's smile becomes a wolfish grin, and Anthony fights the urge to kiss him, knowing that's not the sort of thing he should do without checking in with Sören and Mark first.
But he still thinks about it. All night.
Anthony can't sleep. He checks his e-mail and he's got an e-mail from Nicholas - they've traded more contact information to keep in touch, and Nicholas thanks him for his company, ever the gentleman - and there's also an e-mail from Sören.
An e-mail from Sören with an attachment, that says simply We were thinking of you, Daddy. 😸
Anthony sees the attachment is a video. He puts on headphones and plays, wondering if it's shenanigans to try and cheer him up - like Sören performing "WAP".
Instead, it's slut-on-slut love. Mark and Sören making out, caressing each other, playing with each other's nipples, licking and suckling nipples, taking turns eating and fingering each other, rubbing their pussies together until they come.
Anthony reaches down underneath the covers, slips his hand down his boxer-briefs, and wanks furiously, sloppy wet for them, cock engorged and throbbing.
He edges himself - when the video is over he still hasn't come yet. Anthony takes off his headphones and keeps playing with himself. He gets himself close to orgasm and holds back, close and pulls back again, replaying the delicious imagery over and over again in his mind, Sören and Mark sucking and fucking. Then his mind inserts Nicholas into the scene, all four of them together, Nicholas eating each of them, then getting his cock worshiped... then Sören and Mark rubbing their pussies together, Nicholas's cock in one then the other, back and forth, while Anthony fucks Nicholas with a strap-on from behind. So debauched.
Anthony finally comes, crying out into his pillow. His cheeks burn, flustered to be thinking of his new friend this way. He knows he maybe shouldn't get his hopes up.
But the lustful thoughts are a strange sort of comfort. Nicholas is something like family. And he needs that right now.
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