It's the night before Mark is going to leave for Indiana. His van has been packed, and Anthony and Sören have loaded him up with non-perishable groceries so he doesn't have to worry about food for awhile, even though he has money saved from the last several months.
Sören has been wrestling with mixed emotions since Mark informed them of his decision to leave. Even though he has long COVID and isn't in robust health, Sören is only twenty-seven, and he feels like Mark is acting as if he's going to drop dead tomorrow. He realizes that in the lifespan of an elf, forty, fifty, sixty years isn't much, but it still bothers Sören that Mark can't give it at least another ten to twenty years or so, before Anthony hits his sixties. Sören wonders if Mark is really leaving because he can't bear the thought of watching them grow frail and die, or if it's something else. While Sören has had happiness and stability for a few years now, the memories of growing up with his guardians' abuse and getting bullied in school are still very present and visceral and a part of Sören can't help but wonder if Mark is annoyed by them or thinks they're a "disappointment" from their glory days as Noldor. He knows that's just his trauma talking and there's plenty of evidence to the contrary - starting with Maglor being just as much a dork as they are - but his inner critic is still loud and obnoxious.
And yet, Sören still continues to probe the "something else". He remembers his conversation with Mark when Anthony was having his hysterectomy. I failed you, Atya. I'm so sorry I cast the Silmaril into the sea. I know how much the Silmarils meant to you, we took an Oath, we did terrible things to uphold that Oath, and then I fucking failed you...
Sören wonders if Mark is punishing himself, running from his family like this. He wonders that quite a lot, but doesn't ask.
Mark has been maddeningly calm since he made his announcement and began to prepare for his departure. He's been quiet - too quiet, like he's trying not to cause a scene during his last days with them.
But now, as Sören lays there unable to sleep, with Mark across the hall, all of a sudden he hears a sob from the guest room where Mark is spending his last evening. It tears at Sören - as hurt and frustrated as he is, the part of him that is still Fëanor responds. My boy's in pain.
Sören rushes across the hall - Mark's door is open a crack to let the cats in and out. Sören opens the door, flips on the light, and Mark sits up. Mark wipes his eyes, trying to compose himself. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you -"
"I was already awake." Sören walks over, grabs Mark by the arm, and yanks him out of bed. Anthony is about to get out of bed just in time for Sören to drag Mark in the bedroom, and Sören lets go and shoves him over to the bed. "Get in."
"But -"
Now Anthony is the one to grab Mark's arm, and pulls him into bed. Sören follows.
"Here," Sören says, and snuggles close to Mark, then throws his arms around him. Anthony holds him too. Mark lets out another sob and breaks, heaving, weeping. Sören cries too, and so does Anthony.
"I'm sorry," Mark cries. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I wish there was another way -"
"We know," Anthony says, his voice shaking. "We do too."
"I don't want to hurt you guys. This hurts me too. I don't want it to be like this, I don't want it to end this way..."
"Shhhh." Sören kisses Mark's brow, smooths his hair, and Anthony rubs Mark's back. Seeing and hearing Mark in pain like this hurts. Sören feels powerless, which is one of the worst feelings in the world.
But Mark doesn't shhhh. "I don't want you to think I don't love you," Mark says. "I will always, always love you. I love you too much, that's the problem."
You're not too much. You couldn't be too much if you tried, Sören thinks to himself, but doesn't say it aloud. Instead he doubles down on trying to comfort Mark. "I don't hate you," Sören tells him, which isn't a lie. He's hurt, he's upset, but he wants Mark's happiness whether he's with them or not - the thing is that Sören thinks Mark would be happier with them and this feels like giving up too easily... like letting Manwë win. It's Manwë that Sören hates, cursing him internally once again. This what you want, Manwë? Is your dick big enough now, asshole?
Mark sits up, and Sören worries for a brief instant that he put his foot in his mouth, saying "I don't hate you" instead of "I love you", and Mark is going to leave right now. But Mark continues to sit, and in the dim glow of the nightlight Sören watches Mark fumbling with his necklace - the Fëanorion star pendant. Mark takes it off and then he clasps it around Sören's neck, more quickly than Sören can protest.
"I want you to have it," Mark says.
Sören touches the star and it pulses gently. Sören swallows hard, fresh tears brimming his eyes. "Kanafinwë, this is yours. You've had it for literal ages -"
"You made it, Atya."
Sören doubles over, weeping hysterically, and now Mark is the one to comfort him, holding, rocking, petting. He kisses Sören's tears, and then, caught up in the emotion of being given such a gift, Sören kisses Mark passionately - deeper than an "I love you", which feels trite somehow, like words aren't enough.
Fire calls to fire, and Mark kisses Sören back. Then Mark turns to Anthony and kisses him, and Anthony leans over Mark and kisses Sören. They take turns kissing and kissing, fierce and needy, knowing this is their last chance.
They sit up and they share an open-mouthed three-way kiss, tongues licking, rubbing. Then they start to undress. Mark has been trying to avoid intimacy with them since he let them know he was leaving, as if that will somehow spare them and make it easier, but they need this, now, this final blaze of glory.
Mark consents to be tied one last time. Anthony binds Mark's right wrist to the bedpost, and Sören ties Mark's left wrist. Then Anthony and Sören take a moment to kiss and caress each other, making Mark watch. When they reach between each other's legs and play with each other, kissing more sensually, Mark lets out an urgent little whimper of protest.
"Oh, are we teasing you?" Anthony cocks his head to one side and raises an eyebrow. "I'll show you real teasing."
One of the many things Sören will miss about their life with Mark is how close to Anthony he feels when they team up together to tease Mark. And tonight they savor Mark's body like never before, kissing, licking and nibbling his neck together, lapping and suckling his nipples over and over again until Mark is writhing, panting, begging. They kiss and caress his stomach, hips and thighs, and Mark's beautiful moans drive Sören out of his mind with lust, resisting the urge to touch himself, knowing he'll pop off right away.
They kiss and lick their way back up from his thighs, up his sides, up his stomach, to pleasure his nipples some more. The noises Mark makes when both his nipples are sucked at the same time send Sören into high heat, rubbing himself against Mark's thigh, letting Mark feel how wet he is.
Sören can smell Mark's arousal - he's going to miss that scent, and wishes he could bottle it. He's starving for a taste, and as much as he wants to feast on Mark's gorgeous body all night, he and Anthony give into their hunger, Sören's tongue rubbing Mark's engorged little cock as Anthony's tongue lashes inside him, making Mark cry out. Sören sucks on Mark's cock, enjoying the feel of it in his mouth, the musky taste of him, the way Mark lets out shuddery gasps of pleasure. Anthony groans into Mark's cunt as he keeps working his tongue.
After awhile they trade places, Anthony sucking at Mark's cock while Sören's tongue plays inside him. Mark's moans get louder and louder until he's letting out broken little cries, trembling, a desperate look in his eyes. When Sören senses Mark is about to come, he pulls back to watch the contractions, and enjoys Mark squirting on his face, lapping at the flow like he's drinking from a fountain.
Savoring the taste of him, burning it into his memory.
Mark sighs and Sören also burns the look of ecstasy on Mark's face into his mind's eye, aching at the beauty of it. Before he can get too emotional, Anthony kisses him and they share the taste of their lover, tongues licking together. Anthony and Sören sit up and continue kissing, and play with each other - both of them drenched and dripping, making deliciously filthy sloppy sounds as their fingers explore. When Mark comes down, he gives them a longing look and lets out a little frustrated whimper.
"You want more, slut?" Anthony laughs at him.
"Yes," Mark pleads.
Anthony sits on Mark's face as Sören licks Mark's cock slowly, ever so slowly, relishing the sound of Mark moaning into Anthony's cunt. Anthony gently rocks his hips, groaning. Sören moans too as he watches Anthony drip onto Mark's tongue, Anthony's cock more engorged and wet from Mark's lips. Anthony pulls Sören up into another kiss to taste Mark again, and then they trade places, Sören straddling Mark's shoulders and getting spoiled by that talented mouth, while Anthony sucks Mark slowly.
When Sören is right there, about to come, he decides he wants to come from fucking. But first, a little more teasing is in order. Anthony pulls back and Sören grinds his way down Mark's body, rubbing his cunt against one shoulder then the other, one nipple then the other, down Mark's chest and stomach, against one thigh and then the other, making Mark's entire body glisten beautifully from his juices... spreading his scent all over Mark, like an act of claiming. "Mine," Sören rasps. "Always mine."
Mark cries out and bucks his hips. Sören laughs and puts a finger to his lips, and then he grinds back up Mark's body, teasing them both, rubbing his pussy in slow circles, making soft squishing sounds. When Sören's cock rubs against a hard nipple Sören almost comes, and Mark cries out again. Anthony kneels behind Sören and reaches around to play with Sören's nipples, kissing his neck, and Sören wants this moment to last forever, such decadent pleasure.
At last, Sören gets into position, and Sören and Mark moan together as their wet pussies kiss. Cock slides against cock, slowly at first, teasing, then they work their hips harder, faster. Anthony gets behind Sören and Sören whimpers as he feels Anthony's cock push into him from behind. Anthony grunts and possessively grabs a handful of Sören's hair, his cock gliding back and forth against Sören's G-spot like a finger, as Sören's cock continues to rub Mark's cock, the pleasure and tension building and building. A couple dozen thrusts later, Anthony pulls out of Sören and from the way Mark moans, Sören knows Anthony is inside him now too. Then Anthony is in Sören again, pushing Mark's juices inside him. Sören is utterly lost in sensation and lust, his body urgent to come but holding back, needing more, needing to make it last, needing to feel both of them like this, fucking and being fucked.
But the rhythm is too delicious, as is the wet smacking, slurping sound of their fuck, the breathy moans, animal growls. Mark and Sören come together, screaming, and then Sören feels Anthony's cock twitching and Anthony gushes with a fierce cry. Sören rests his head on Mark's chest, listening to his heart as they throb together, that perfect moment of bliss where this is all that exists, all that matters.
Once Mark is untied, he tangles up with them, the three of them holding each other. Sören tries not to cry, tries to let himself just be and enjoy the closeness and connection while it lasts. They've come to the end of the road, and Sören doesn't want this last time to be sad. He lets himself love, and be loved, basking in its light and warmth, until he falls asleep.
"Well, I guess this is goodbye." Mark swallows hard and he looks away, but Sören sees his eyes are too bright.
Anthony marches over and gives Mark a fierce, tight hug, and even though he still feels hurt and rejected by all of this, Sören does the same. The three of them cling together, not even trying to hold back their tears. Sören wants to scream and beg him to stay, but he doesn't. This is hard enough without making a scene, without Mark feeling even more guilty for this.
"Thank you for everything," Mark chokes out.
"Thank you." Anthony kisses Mark's brow. "It was beautiful while it lasted, like a sunset or watching fireflies."
"Like an aurora." Sören's voice shakes. He touches Mark's cheek and Mark falls apart, and it makes Sören cry harder.
"I'm going to miss you guys so much." Mark closes his eyes and tears run down his face.
"Call or e-mail us once you arrive in Terre Haute, to let us know you made it safely, OK?" Anthony's voice is husky and then he starts sobbing too.
Mark nods through his tears. "Will do."
And then, despite the hurt - because he really does want the best for Maglor, even if it's not with them - Sören decides Mark needs one last thing. "Wait here," he says.
Sören hauls himself upstairs and back as fast as he can, even though his lungs complain - he pushes himself, out of love. Breathless, he purposefully strides over to Mark. He takes Mark's burn-scarred hand and presses the Silmaril into it. Not burning him anymore, the curse broken.
"For you," Sören says.
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