On Christmas Eve, Anthony and Sören went to Roger and Elaine's house in Blackheath, where they would stay through the night of the twenty-sixth. As usual, Roger and Elaine had asked that in lieu of gifts, donations be made to charity in their names, but Sören still went out of his way to bake a few trays of Icelandic Christmas cookies, as he did last year, except more this year since they had been informed Elaine's mother was coming for Christmas Day.
Anthony and Sören carried their overnight bags and plates of cookies to the door, and Elaine answered the door just before they could ring the bell. "I heard you pull in," Elaine said, and took the plates out of Anthony and Sören's hands, with them following her to the kitchen. Once the plates of cookies were settled on the kitchen counter Elaine surveyed Sören's handiwork, and gave him a hug. "You're such a thoughtful boy," Elaine said, and kissed Sören's forehead.
"I try," Sören said, smiling.
Anthony and Sören brought their bags upstairs to Anthony's old room and came back down. They were just in time for dinner, which wasn't as elaborate as the meal would be on Christmas Day but Elaine had still gone to a good bit of trouble. The beef pot roast melted in Sören's mouth, and he ended up having seconds of that and the roasted new potatoes and turnips. After dinner they relaxed in the sitting room with cognac-and-rum spiked egg nog, and Sören related the tale of how he told his pediatric patients over the last week he was "a real elf from the North Pole", which made Elaine grin and Roger chuckle.
Then Elaine frowned. "It must be so hard, to have sick kids as patients."
Sören nodded. "I've been told more than once that I should specialize in pediatric neurosurgery - kids seem to really like me for some reason, I try to be kind to them - but no." Sören frowned too. "It's too hard, it takes a lot out of me emotionally. As difficult as the trauma cases are, that's still easier on me than when I have kids with serious conditions coming in."
"I can imagine. Still, it's obvious you care, and, well... it's good that you're good with children. Not everyone has that talent." Elaine gave Sören a pointed look.
"Do you have any nieces or nephews, Sören?" Roger asked.
Sören shook his head, and thought of when Dag told him a few years ago that he'd gotten one of his colleagues pregnant by accident and she wanted to terminate the pregnancy and he was paying for the abortion and going with her for moral support. Sören had supported Dag, in turn, knowing it was the wrong time in his life to have children. And it became even more the wrong time after their sister Margrét was murdered and they had fallen out of touch - it hurt too much, every conversation a reminder of her missing presence. Only this past week had Sören spoken to Dag for the first time since before he left Iceland, to wish him a merry Christmas and get caught up. Dag was very curious about meeting Anthony, since this was Sören's first serious relationship, and Dag would be coming to London in the spring to give a lecture so there were plans to get together.
Anthony squeezed Sören's hand, knowing the topic of Sören's family was still a sore spot, even with having started talking to Dag again recently.
"That's too bad," Roger said. "I know Anthony hasn't gotten the experience of having nieces and nephews, being an only child and all..."
"Well, you never know," Sören said, swirling the egg nog around in his glass. "Maybe my brother might have kids someday." Sören shrugged.
"On that note," Elaine said, looking at Roger, "kids should be in bed." She looked back at Sören and Anthony. "I heard a rumor Father Christmas is coming, and he won't stop here if the children aren't in bed."
Anthony's eyebrows shot up and he gave his parents an incredulous look. "Mum, you told us not to get you anything."
"I did."
"And you usually... don't... get me anything for Christmas anymore, not since I turned eighteen."
"That doesn't mean Father Christmas can't bring you anything." Elaine's expression was deadpan as she sipped her eggnog.
"Mum. Mother."
"You should listen to your mum," Roger said, also deadpan.
"Here, I'll be the responsible adult," Sören said, and grabbed Anthony's hand and pulled him to his feet. They took their glasses into the kitchen and rinsed them out, and then Sören said, "Race you," and he and Anthony ran upstairs. Anthony beat him to the top, and Sören had to take a puff on his inhaler when he reached the top of the second floor, but it was worth it to see Anthony smiling. Anthony put his arms around Sören's waist and marched him to the bedroom.
They got into their pajamas, then went to the bathroom to brush their teeth, and came back to Anthony's room.
"So," Sören said, looking at the clock, noticing it wasn't even nine PM yet, "we should be good boys and go to bed." With that, Sören climbed into Anthony's bed.
"Yes, she said go to bed. She didn't say anything about going to sleep." Anthony crouched down in front of the TV in his room to turn on the gaming console, and tossed a controller at Sören, who laughed.
They spent the next few hours playing Sonic the Hedgehog, snuggled together in Anthony's bed. Every now and again Sören looked at the snow falling out the window and he smiled to himself, feeling like life could not get much better than this, here with his best friend, his lover, his soulmate. He liked that he and Anthony could just play together like two big kids, making up for the friendship they lacked in their younger years. Sören felt very close to him, and again felt that prickle of I want to spend the rest of my life with this man.
Sören thought then about proposing to Anthony - maybe on Valentine's Day. He was nervous, not wanting to risk rejection, but he also needed Anthony to know how serious he was, beyond words, beyond the ways they took care of each other.
After their game, just before midnight, Anthony gave Sören a little kiss. "Do you want to open your Christmas present now?"
"Oh... OK." Sören nodded. "We can do that now."
They got up, and Sören went in his duffel bag and reached for the box with the navy blue cashmere scarf he'd bought at a shop in Lucerne, Switzerland last month. He felt that little twinge of anxiety again, like this wouldn't be good enough, but then again Anthony wore the tie Sören gave him last Christmas, almost every time he wore a suit.
"Here," Sören said, thrusting the box at him. "You first."
Anthony slipped the bow off the box, carefully opened it, and pulled out the tissue paper. When he took out the scarf, Sören said, "It's another clothing item so the Yule Cat won't eat you, and well..." Sören's voice got husky as he said, "Last Christmas you tied me up for the first time in this very bed, with a scarf, so..."
Anthony grabbed Sören and kissed him hard. When they pulled apart, Anthony's eyes were too bright. He stroked Sören's face and looked into his eyes. "I love you, you know."
"I know." Sören smiled. "I love you too."
Anthony kissed the tip of Sören's nose. Then he gave a dramatic clear of his throat. "Well then..." He had a smaller box, jewelry-sized, and Sören wondered if it was going to be another pair of earrings - though he was perfectly content with the tanzanites and sapphires Anthony had already given him - and he hoped it wasn't going to be another Rolex. "This is more of an accessory than a proper item of clothing, but hopefully it should still count to Jólakötturinn." He gestured to the box.
Sören opened the box, and there was another smaller box inside, charcoal grey and velvet-covered, the perfect size for a pair of earrings. Sören started to open the box, feeling an embarrassment of riches, and right then Anthony got off the bed... and once the box was all the way open, Anthony got down on one knee in front of Sören.
Inside the box was a band that appeared to be white gold or platinum, set with tiny sparkling white diamonds going all the way around the band. Sören's jaw dropped.
Anthony took Sören's hand and looked into his eyes. "Sören Sigurðsson, will you marry me?"
Sören nodded, and started to cry. "Yes." He gave a little squeak and laughed through his tears, overcome by joy, feeling drunk even though he'd only had a little bit of alcohol. Flying, sparkling inside like the diamonds on the ring in the light of their love, brighter than the sun. Anthony pulled him into a tight hug, also laughing and crying, and then he slipped the ring on the ring finger of Sören's left hand. Sören looked at the ring on his hand and moved it around to watch the diamonds catch the light, making rainbows. "It's beautiful, thank you." Sören kissed him hard. "You're beautiful."
Anthony rocked him. "You like the ring?"
"Yes, I do." The compliment was sincere. "It's shiny. And very classy."
"When I was absolutely certain I was going to ask you to marry me, I did some research on NHS guidelines for rings, to make sure it was something you could wear for work," Anthony said.
"Oh god. How long ago was that?"
"Honestly, it's been on my mind for months, but I started seriously considering it after we were both sick with flu in October, and finally got the nerve to get a plan together in November after... the straight razor."
Sören kissed his cheek, getting choked up again, remembering the words as they lay there that night. You're the one. "Oh, Anthony..."
Anthony took Sören's face in his hands and kissed him deeply, then he got back up on the bed and Sören leaned against him. "I bought that when we were shopping in Lucerne, went into a jeweler. The band is platinum and I made sure those are conflict-free diamonds."
Sören sniffled. "I feel bad because I just got you a scarf..."
"It's not just a scarf," Anthony said. "There's meaning behind it. Meaning that I will cherish every time I wear it. Or just as likely... tie you up with it." He stroked Sören's cheek. "Besides, we did have that rule about only spending one hundred quid on each other for Christmas."
Sören poked him. "A rule which you broke."
Anthony gave him a wicked grin. "It's technically only Christmas Eve yet, not Christmas Day."
"You. Are. Such. A. Fucking. Lawyer."
Anthony laughed and kissed Sören again. One kiss became another, then another, and soon they were unbuttoning each other's pajama tops, peeled off their pajama bottoms and let them slip to the floor. "I think we should break in the new scarf," Anthony whispered, and reached for it; Sören grabbed the headboard of Anthony's bed and Anthony tied Sören's wrists to the headboard as Sören looked up at him adoringly, tears stinging his eyes again, overcome by love and trust and that feeling of rightness, that this was where he belonged.
Anthony had Sören test the bonds, and when he was satisfied they were neither too loose nor too tight, he claimed Sören's mouth, and began to kiss and lick down Sören's neck, his hard cock rubbing against Sören's own. Sören moaned and Anthony covered Sören's mouth with his hand, chuckling. "Shhhhhh. My parents are right upstairs." He replaced his hand with his mouth, kissing Sören again. Then he resumed kissing Sören's neck, licking, nibbling, his hands sliding up and down Sören's chest and stomach and hips and thighs, and back up, making Sören break out into gooseflesh.
"I will never get tired of making love to you," Anthony said, kissing down from Sören's collarbone to a nipple.
"Good." And then Sören let out a soft moan as Anthony drew that nipple into his mouth, sucking hard.
"So lovely." Anthony pulled on the ring in Sören's nipple, then lapped it, suckled it, tugged the ring with his teeth, nibbled on the sensitive peak before sucking it again, harder.
He kissed across Sören's chest to the other nipple and sucked it, licked it, played with the ring, nibbled and drew the ring between his teeth, suckled hard. Back and forth he went, fingers and thumb rubbing and rolling and pinching one nipple as his lips and tongue teased the other, getting them hard, swollen, glistening, sensitive and twinging, aching, making Sören's cock twinge and throb. Sören tried very hard not to cry out but every now and again he let out a gasp or a whimper, and when Sören did cry out Anthony put his fingers against Sören's lip, then in his mouth. "Shhhhhhhh." He kissed each of Sören's nipples then, and slid down to work on Sören's stomach.
Anthony's tongue brushed and swirled over Sören's tummy, and he kissed here and there, making Sören shiver, cock jolting. He kissed down one hip and thigh and behind the knee, and across to go up the other. Then he began to lick Sören's cock, just licking and licking and licking, teasing him, watching Sören gasping, panting, writhing.
"Oh god, Anthony," Sören whispered. "Please, brother..."
"Mmmmmmmm." Anthony's lips wrapped around the head of Sören's cock, sucking slowly, rubbing his tongue as he sucked, kissing it. Sören bucked and let out a shuddery gasp, trying once again not to cry out. Then Anthony's tongue was licking his cock again, tracing around and around the head in circles, lashing at the frenulum, licking down the shaft and back up, and back down and back up, over and over. "God, I want you."
"Then take me, dammit," Sören gritted out.
Anthony laughed softly, and his response to that was to push his tongue into Sören's opening. Sören made a high-pitched noise and Anthony laughed again. "You have to be quiet," he husked.
"Fucking hell, Anthony..." Sören gave a whine. "Fucking fuck me..."
"You mean like this?" Anthony's tongue pushed into him again and began to rub inside him hard and fast. Sören bit his lip to restrain the cry, writhed against the restraints, panting, quivering, as Anthony devoured him, tongue lashing fast and furious. Anthony got Sören right on that edge and kept him there, teasing and teasing until Sören was almost at the point of tears, whispering "please, please, please, oh god please..."
"Mmmmmmmmmmmm." Anthony's tongue rubbed slower, taking languid, lazy strokes inside him.
"Oh god, Anthony, please, please, please brother, fuck me..." Sören knew with Anthony's teasing mood he had to be specific. "Give me your cock..."
"Oh, is that what you want?" Anthony feigned innocence. He gave a few more slow licks inside Sören and then he said, "I'll think about it."
Sören could have screamed. But Anthony's tongue was so good, building that pleasure higher and higher, making Sören's balls throb and his thighs quiver, completely lost in sensation.
At last Anthony relented, taking a few more licks at Sören's cock, which was dripping thick streamers of precum, and he came up to kiss Sören, kissing him again more deeply as he poured a generous amount of lube into Sören's opening. Then they kissed again as his cock slid inside. When Anthony was all the way in the kiss broke and they looked into each other's eyes; Anthony stroked Sören's face, pet his curls. "I love you, darling."
"Ég elska þig, ástin mín."
They kissed again, and Anthony began to thrust slowly, sweetly, continuing to pet and stroke Sören. Sören melted to his touch, to the love shining in Anthony's eyes, savoring that feeling of bound-yet-free, flying high in the brilliant light of their passion, reborn like the phoenix, the past so far away now. Sören loved him even more now than he had a year ago when they'd made love in this bed, and it seemed that their love would grow stronger over time. They had built a life together... a safe, cozy nest, their refuge from the crazy world. They took care of each other, and Anthony was taking care of him even now, giving him joy.
Giving him ecstasy, with the delicious gliding in and out of him, rubbing the sweet spot inside him. "You like that, brother?" Anthony whispered between kisses at Sören's neck.
"Oh god, yes. I love my brother's cock." Their eyes met. "I love you."
Their mouths met again, and then Anthony was kissing and licking Sören's neck, knowing how much that drove him crazy. His fingers strayed, rubbing Sören's swollen, sensitive nipples. Then his mouth was there, sucking, pulling them hard with his lips, tongue lashing and brushing before suckling them hard again. Sören grabbed the headboard, white-knuckled, and began to rock underneath him, urging him on faster.
Anthony went harder, faster, matching Sören's rhythm, and nibbled on Sören's nipples, meeting Sören's eyes. The fierce, dangerous look of lust in Anthony's eyes made Sören want him even more and Sören bucked underneath him harder still. "Fuck me," Sören panted. "Fuck me, fucking fuck me..."
Anthony growled, pulled a nipple ring with his teeth, suckled hard, and repeated with the other, and then, his mouth on Sören's, he gave in, fucking harder. And then he slammed away, one of Sören's legs on his hips, kissing Sören roughly. Sören got closer and closer to the edge, lost in the exquisite rubbing inside him. "Oh god, more, more," Sören panted, trying to keep his voice down even though Anthony's balls were smacking against his ass, there was the wet slurping sound of plunging in and out of the slickness.
Anthony gave a deep groan, not able to help it. "Oh, Sören." He closed his eyes and shuddered, then opened his eyes, looking almost angry in his need. He rose up and put Sören's leg on his shoulder, pounding into him even harder and faster.
"Oh god, yes, yesyesyesyes moremoremore," Sören whispered.
"Sören. Sören." Anthony growled. "I want you. I need you so much..."
"Yesyesyes take it take it takeittakeit fuck me hard..." Sören's hips rocked back at him. "Give me that cock, brother..."
Anthony reached to play with Sören's cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts. Sören felt himself hurtling along to that point of no return, yet all of the sweet sensations were so good he didn't want Anthony to stop, wanted to just fuck and fuck... Their eyes met and the furious lust on Anthony's face made Sören shiver. "Oh god, yes." Sören's breath hitched. "I'm so close..."
"Yes, sweetheart." Anthony's thumb began to rub the sensitive frenulum of Sören's cock as he stroked, harder. "Want to make you come for me..."
"Oh god, so close... soclosesoclosesoclose..." Sören gave a little whimper and shivered again. "More, more..."
"Come, brother."
"Oh, skít!" Sören held back the cry, gasping as his orgasm exploded, his cock shooting over Anthony's chest and stomach. Anthony came a few thrusts later, gasping, shaking, and Sören let out a little moan as he felt the hot seed spurting deep inside him. "Oh, fuck, yes..."
"Yes, darling." Anthony came down and kissed him. "Yes, Sören, yes, my love..."
"Elskan." Sören's orgasm was so powerful that he felt tears come on as the euphoria throbbed through him. "Elskan mín..."
Anthony kissed the tears that flowed, and their noses rubbed; Anthony gave him sweet little kisses and then was kissing him more deeply, insistently. Sören noticed he was still tied up and he crinkled his nose and bit his lower lip, feeling Anthony harden up inside him again. "Does my brother want to play another round?"
"Of course," Anthony said, kissing Sören as he took Sören's cock into his hand - Sören was hard again too - and he stroked it slowly. "I can't get enough of you."
"I can't get enough of you either." Sören kissed him back. "I hope you weren't planning on sleeping tonight."
"Mmmmmm. I'm definitely not now." Anthony kissed him again.
Anthony began to move inside him again, a moderate pace. Soon enough Sören was rolling his hips back at Anthony, rocking harder, faster, and Anthony kept time, thrusting harder. He kissed Sören's neck, played with Sören's nipples with one hand and Sören's cock with the other, and when he claimed Sören's mouth again he pounded Sören into the mattress. Sören couldn't help the high-pitched noise that escaped him as Anthony started slamming away madly, and flexed his fingers, knowing he'd be clawing Anthony's back if he wasn't tied up. "Oh god, like that, just like that," Sören panted, bucking underneath him, giving back as good as he got.
When Sören exploded a second time, Anthony bit Sören's neck, growling as he gave a few last savage thrusts, groaning into Sören's neck and kissing where he'd bit as he spent again. They shook together, and then Anthony kissed him deep and hungry, as full of passion as Sören had ever been kissed. Sören was hard again when the kiss broke and Anthony looked at Sören's cock and laughed. "Jesus."
"Uh, I know it's Christmas Eve and all, but that's not the baby Jesus, Anthony." A pause. "Even if thy kingdom come."
Anthony lost it, trying not to laugh out loud, spluttering, shaking as he buried his face in Sören's shoulder, kicking the bed. Sören giggled too, and when Anthony looked up at him, Anthony lost it again, and they kissed, laughing into the kiss, drunk on love. Then Anthony took a moment to untie Sören's wrists and Sören flexed before wrapping his arms around Anthony, pulling him into another kiss.
Anthony slipped out of Sören and reached for the lube again, and Sören crinkled his nose and bit his lower lip when Anthony poured lube over Sören's hard cock. He worked the lube over Sören's cock, stroking hard as he suckled Sören's nipples, pulled on them with his lips, and Sören gasped, cock throbbing, trying not to cry out. At last Anthony claimed his mouth and Sören felt him scoot up, and then Anthony straddled Sören's hips and rose up. Sören groaned as he watched Anthony sink down on his cock, and moaned when his cock was all the way inside, stretching him.
Anthony took a moment to adjust, breathing harder, and then he began to ride Sören, slowly at first, his hands roaming over Sören's body as he worked his hips and ass. Sören moaned and reached up to caress Anthony as well, wanting to touch and feel and tease, wanting to express love through his hands. When Sören's fingers and thumbs played with his nipples Anthony moaned, closing his eyes, a look of ecstasy on his face that made Sören's cock jolt inside him, almost coming just from that alone. Then their eyes met and Anthony took Sören's hands in his and began to ride harder, faster. Sören grabbed Anthony's hips, the beast in him coming out to play, thrusting into him furiously, and Anthony held onto Sören as he bounced, bucking wildly - now it was Anthony's turn to try to keep his voice down.
Sören grabbed Anthony's cock and started stroking it feverishly. Anthony made a strangled noise and bucked harder. "Oh god, Sören." He gasped and tugged on Sören's nipples. "Oh god. Oh god..."
"That's it, elskan." Sören was right on that edge too, and made himself wait, wanting Anthony's pleasure first. "Come for your brother." Their eyes met. "Come for your husband."
"Oh fuck..." It was all Anthony could do to keep his voice down as he climaxed, and at the feel of Anthony contracting around him Sören came too, gasping, his toes and fingers curling. Sören let out a high-pitched noise as Anthony shot over his chest, some of the seed landing on his throat.
Sören opened his arms and Anthony sank down, kissing Sören as he continued to shudder and heave, and Sören groaned at the grip around his cock grasping him, pulsing, draining another load out of him. "Oh god, elskan."
"I love you." Anthony kissed him again. "God, I fucking love you."
They continued kissing, and petting, and soon they were both hard again. Sören rolled Anthony onto his back, and Anthony wrapped his arms and legs around Sören, sighing deeply as Sören began to thrust, slowly. "Sweetheart."
"I love you." Sören kissed his mouth, then kissed his neck, down to his shoulder and back up, licking between kisses, smiling at how sensitive Anthony was there. "I love you so much."
"You are the best thing that's ever happened to me." Anthony's arms tightened around him. Their eyes met, and Anthony reached to stroke Sören's face. Sören smiled at him, and the sweet smile Anthony gave back at him brought tears to Sören's eyes.
Sören leaned in and kissed him hard, and then he let Anthony have it, slamming into him with vicious, punishing thrusts that made Anthony pant and gasp, rocking back at him, nails digging into Sören's back. "Sören... Sören... SörenSörenSören, yesyesyes..." Anthony shuddered and made a guttural noise. "Oh god, Sören, yes..."
"That's it." Sören growled. Sweat was dripping down his body now, and Anthony was sweating too. Sören pet Anthony's damp hair, stroked his face, and Anthony latched onto Sören's thumb and sucked it, looking at Sören with needy eyes, moaning around the thumb in his mouth. "Oh, does my little brother like that?"
"Mhmmmm." Anthony nodded, and licked Sören's thumb, licked the palm of Sören's hand, licked his fingers and sucked on them. "Mmmmmm."
"Fuck." Sören growled again, banging away, losing himself in the wet silken heat, the smug look on Anthony's face, commanding him even when he was bottoming, being taken. Sören grunted and made another deep, primal noise as Anthony's hands slid to his hips and gripped them, rubbed them, letting Sören know he was in charge, he was getting fucked his way. And Sören loved it, surrendering, giving Anthony all that he had. "Fuck, yes..."
Even more maddeningly, Anthony held out as long as he could, sweating, gasping, panting, rocking underneath Sören, holding back his orgasm even as he shivered and made feral noises. He was making Sören work for this, and Sören fought back his own release until he was shaking, the deep noises becoming high-pitched, needing to come so badly but needing to please Anthony, and oh the inside of him had never felt more delicious...
Anthony played with Sören's nipples as Sören played with Anthony's cock, and finally Anthony leaned up to kiss Sören's nipples, lapping and suckling hard, and Sören held him, pet his hair, kissed the top of his head. "Yes, little brother, nurse on me, let big brother take care of you..."
Anthony suckled harder, and made a desperate noise. Sören grabbed onto Anthony's cock and stroked madly, and a few seconds later Anthony spilled over him, and Sören aimed, coming too as he felt the seed spurt onto his sensitive nipples. "Fuck, yes." Sören groaned and thrust a few more times into the sweet contractions around him, before collapsing onto Anthony's chest, kissing him hard.
"Shiiiiit." Anthony laughed. "Oh my fucking god."
They still weren't done. Tender little kisses became more feverish, loving pets became sensual caresses. They found themselves getting in the sixty-nine position, laying on each other's sides, eating the seed out of each other, which felt so deliciously debauched that Sören almost came right away, but made himself hold back, because the sweet rubbing of Anthony's tongue inside him was so good, especially when he was as sensitized as this. Then Sören's cock was in Anthony's mouth, sucking hard, and Sören took Anthony's cock in his mouth, greedy for it, making "mmmmm" noises with his mouth full. Their fingers worked in and out of each other's passages, rubbing the prostate as they sucked hungrily, and soon they were fucking each other's mouths, tongues lashing as they sucked, until Sören came hard, and another shockwave of orgasm went through him as Anthony flooded his mouth. Sören drank him down, enjoying every drop, licking him clean.
They still needed more. Sören lay on his back and Anthony climbed atop him. They kissed again and again as their hard cocks rubbed together, hands sliding over each other's bodies. Looking into Anthony's green eyes, Sören had never felt so connected during sex before - as intimate as they were, it felt like they had reached a whole new level, utterly consumed by pleasure and passion. "Don't let it end," Sören breathed between kisses. "I love you so much..."
Cock teased cock, silken steel playing together until they couldn't hold back anymore, shaking, panting, eyes locked. Anthony took Sören's hands in his, kissed him deeply, and a few grinding thrusts later they came together, breaking the kiss to watch cock spurting on cock, seed flowing and flowing, an indescribably luscious sight that made them both moan. Sören scooped up their seed with his fingers and shoved his fingers in Anthony's mouth for him to taste, and Anthony did the same for Sören, and they kissed again.
The sensuality of their kiss, tongues licking, teasing, tasting themselves, sent the passion rising once more. Now Sören rolled Anthony onto his back, grabbed the lube, and poured it over Anthony's cock, kissing him as he worked the lube in. Anthony groaned and slicked his fingers, working them inside Sören harder and harder; he nipped Sören's lower lip. "Show me what you got, big brother," he rasped.
Sören straddled and sank down, and rode slowly, melting as Anthony's hands wandered over him, exploring, pleasuring. But when Anthony slapped his ass, Sören took that as his cue to ride harder, and harder with each spank, until Sören was bouncing fiercely, Anthony's hands working his hips as Anthony rocked into him, fucking with abandon. Sören grabbed onto the headboard, white-knuckled, panting "ohgodohgodohgod", trying not to cry out, and when a little cry escaped him, Anthony's fingers were in his mouth. Sucking on Anthony's fingers, Sören came hard, that final orgasm shattering him, and Anthony gave a soft moan as he filled Sören with his seed, trembling, looking like he was having a religious experience.
A few kisses later and they drifted off to sleep, Sören falling asleep with a big grin on his face.
It was after one PM when the knock came on the bedroom door and Elaine's voice called out, "Anthony, your gran is here."
"Oh shit." Anthony's eyes opened and he sat up with a start, while Sören made a grumpy noise and stretched.
For the sake of time and convenience, they showered together, but were too spent from last night to fool around in the shower, only holding each other and petting and giving tender little kisses. They changed, Sören into a traditional knit Icelandic sweater in a black, blue and white pattern, with faded jeans, and Anthony put on a dark green cashmere sweater and indigo jeans. They made their way downstairs gingerly - every step down reminded Sören that they'd had sex seven times last night, insatiable for each other, and he laughed to himself as they strode out into the greatroom.
Anthony's parents got a real tree every year, the smell of Douglas fir pleasant to Sören's nose even as he felt bad for the living thing that would soon die. The tree was strung with gold-white fairy lights and gold and silver and crystal ornaments, and on the fireplace mantle there were two stockings, one red and one green. Roger took them down and tossed the red one to Sören and the green one to Anthony before taking a seat himself.
The stockings were full of mostly assorted candies and toiletries; Anthony received a gift card to a local bookstore in Blackheath, and Sören received a gift card to a local upscale department store. Sören teared up a little - it was all simple things, but getting a stocking from Anthony's parents made him feel like part of the family now.
Elaine was out in the garden with Anthony's grandmother, Sören could hear their voices outside, and then finally the patio doors opened and a woman who looked like a very old version of Elaine, but much shorter, with snow-white short hair and rectangular spectacles, the same summer green eyes as Elaine and Anthony, wearing a purple dress and a purple-feathered glittery fascinator, pushed a walker inside, accompanied by a tall, lanky man with a shock of red hair, bright blue eyes and a friendly face who looked not older than Sören and Anthony, wearing jeans, cowboy boots, and a grey blazer over a white shirt.
"Sören," Elaine said warmly, "please allow me to introduce my mother, Anthea Evangeline Rosalind MacLeod, and her partner, Donovan Desmond O'Meara."
Sören rose to his feet and first he gave Elaine a hug. "Thank you for the stocking," he said. He looked over at Roger. "And you too, that was very thoughtful."
"We had to get you a little something this year," Elaine said, giving Sören's arm a squeeze. "You've been so good for our son."
Sören was incredibly touched, especially considering how many Christmases he hadn't gotten presents at all. Then he saw Anthea waiting, and came over to take the elderly woman's hand. She sized him up and down. "So you're the Sören." Her voice was deep like Elaine's, a little gravelly.
"I am the Sören," Sören replied, amused by that. "It's a pleasure to meet you, ah..."
"Anthea is fine." Anthea it was, then; Sören smirked in Anthony's direction, seeing where he got his middle name from. Then Anthea glanced at Anthony. "Cornelius! Get over here and give your granny a hug."
Anthony did as he was told, and then Anthea grabbed Sören and pulled him into the hug too.
Then Donovan stuck out his hand. "A pleasure to be meetin' ya," he said in an Irish accent.
Sören shook his hand and Donovan clapped Anthony on the shoulder. "And good to see ya again."
"Likewise," Anthony said. He looked back at his grandmother, and then at Donovan. "I hope you've been taking good care of her."
"Oh, yeah, we just got back from Brazil." Donovan smiled at Anthea fondly. "We had a blast, didn't we?"
"We sure did." Anthea reached up and pinched Donovan's cheek. "I enjoyed every minute of it. I could have stayed there longer, but I haven't seen you lot in ages." She gave Anthony a little shove. "We're going to be in England for the next month, though, so I'll get plenty of chances to see you."
Anthea ambled her walker into the sitting room, with Donovan following carefully behind her. He helped her sit on one of the couches, and sat beside her. Elaine brought in hot chocolate, egg nog, whisky, and the Christmas cookies Sören made, informing them, "Sören made the biscuits."
"Did he now? I admire a man who can cook," Anthea said. "Donovan here is great in the kitchen." Then she added, "And other places, too."
Elaine turned beetroot and rolled her eyes. "Mum, please."
Donovan grinned. Anthea squeezed Donovan's knee and Donovan pet her hand. It became apparent to Sören that although Donovan seemed to be enjoying Anthea's money rather well, he also enjoyed her company, so he wasn't quite a gigolo, whatever the world thought of them.
Anthea sampled a chocolate-licorice cookie and then she said, "Oh yes. This is divine." Anthea glared at Anthony. "Keep him," she barked.
Anthony laughed, his cheeks flushing. He put an arm around Sören. "Well actually, on that note... we have a little announcement to make."
Elaine put her glass of egg nog down and clapped her hands together, waiting expectantly. Roger raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his hot chocolate. Anthony and Sören looked at each other and then Sören nodded, taking a deep breath and bracing himself, and Anthony turned back to the family looking out at him and said, "As of last night, we are engaged to be married."
"Finally," Elaine said, and Roger guffawed. Then Elaine asked, "When?"
Anthony and Sören looked at each other again. "We haven't picked a date yet," Anthony said. "But you'll know when we do. It'll likely be before 2013 is over, though."
"Congratulations," Anthea said. "I think it's good the gays can get married these days."
Sören wasn't too thrilled with the turn of phrase "the gays" but he also knew that Anthea came from a much older generation and it was remarkable that she was OK with this at all, so he could forgive that term more readily than if used by someone else.
"I remember when Lysander and I got married," Anthea went on. "He was my second cousin," she informed Sören, "so we both had the same last name. And I remember thinking even back then, if people can marry their cousins, why can't they marry whoever they want?"
"Hear hear," Elaine said.
"Times have come a long way since I was a young lass getting married," Anthea said. She sipped her cognac-infused egg nog and leaned back in her chair. "I hear the gays can make babies now."
"Well, they can adopt," Elaine said. "Trans men can get pregnant, I guess..."
"I saw a pregnant man on the news," Anthea said. Then she gave Anthony a stern look. "So, Cornelius, when are you going to put a baby in Sören?"
Anthony had chosen that moment to take a sip of his drink and promptly ended up wearing it. "Er."
Sören's face was on fire. He felt a little flutter in his stomach when he thought of their vacation to Brighton, that brief flash of a vision where his belly was round with a pregnancy bump and he and Anthony were very happy together. He thought of his brother's theory that other universes existed, and he wondered if there was another universe where cisgender males could in fact give birth.
"You should give your mother grandchildren," Anthea said. "Give me a great-grandchild or two to spoil." She nodded sagely.
Elaine was shaking with silent laughter, and quietly poured Anthony a shot glass of straight whisky, which Anthony knocked back; he held the empty glass out to his mother for a refill. Sören was trying very hard not to laugh, and failing.
Then Anthea changed the subject, for better or worse. "Where are you from, Sören?"
"Iceland," Sören said. "I came here in 2010."
"Iceland... you lot have elves there, right?"
"So I've been told," Sören said. A non-trivial percentage of Icelanders believed in the existence of elves, including professed atheists. Sören's internal jury was out on whether or not elves were real, but then in those strange dreams that he and Anthony had been having, they looked quite like elves...
"Did Elaine or Anthony tell you we have Sidhe blood?" Anthea raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, Mum." Elaine shook her head.
"Clan MacLeod intermarried with fairies, that's why we have the Fairy Flag," Anthea insisted. "So if you put a baby in him, Cornelius, the elf blood and the fairy blood, you'll have magic changeling children." Anthea nodded.
Sören tried very hard to not crack up laughing over dinner, but finally when he washed dishes in the kitchen - which he insisted on doing for Elaine, despite her protests - Sören doubled over the sink, tearing up. Anthony got a mock irate look on his face, reached under the faucet and splashed Sören, and Sören splashed him back, and the two were in a splash war, giggling and tickling each other when Elaine walked in.
"I feel like I should apologize," Elaine said. "Mum has... dementia, and." She sighed.
"Oh." Sören felt a pang of sadness - he liked Anthea, he could see her eccentric, bonne vivante nature was why Elaine was the way she was, and for all of Anthony's suave professionalism he had inherited a touch of that offbeat quirkiness which was why they got along as well as they did. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah, me too." Elaine frowned. "For now she's still, well, mostly lucid and not combative, but this may be one of the last good years she has left."
Sören didn't want to think about dementia running in the family, about Elaine going that way, or worse, Anthony. Sören turned off the water, marched over to Elaine, and gave her a hug.
"She didn't offend me, though," Sören said when they pulled apart.
"That's good. I know it got awkward in there when she..." And then Elaine spluttered, gigglesnorting, and Anthony also laughed, turning beetroot.
When Anthea and Donovan retired to one of the guest rooms, Sören and Anthony went back up to Anthony's room. "So, when are you going to put a baby in me?" Sören asked, suddenly deadpan, not able to resist trolling him.
Anthony facepalmed and shook with laughter. "Sören..."
He stopped laughing when Sören kissed him. Their clothes quickly came off, and Sören began to ride Anthony, with Anthony sitting up a little so they could kiss.
"We're doing this," Sören said, looking at his ring, feeling giddy and crazy with love. "We're getting married."
"Yes." Anthony stroked Sören's face. "I want to spend my life with you, Sören."
"I want to spend my life with you, too." Sören couldn't resist. "Babies or no babies."
Anthony laughed. "Jesus..."
They kissed, laughing together, and then, remembering the kinky thrill of last night, Sören husked, "But if I could get pregnant, you'd be all over me lactating, wouldn't you?"
"Oh, fuck." Anthony shuddered, and Sören smiled as he felt Anthony's cock throb inside him, Anthony rocking into him a little harder.
Sören grabbed Anthony's head and pulled it to his chest. "Here, my love. You work so much, get so stressed out... let me take care of you..."
Anthony suckled, and Sören pet him, and Anthony thrust into him harder, faster. Sören got right on that edge, indescribably turned on by this new kink they'd discovered, making their brother roleplaying even naughtier. "Mmmmm, that's right," Sören said, holding him. "Nurse on your brother..."
"Mmmmf," Anthony moaned, suckling harder.
Sören bounced on him as Anthony pulled on the nipples with his lips, sucking so hard it almost hurt; Sören loved it, getting closer and closer to climax. "Nurse on me, brother. That's a good boy..." Sören stroked his hair. "Such a good boy."
"Mmmmm." Anthony looked into Sören's eyes, needy and pleading. The little catch of breath let Sören know he was right there, too. "Brother..."
"Have all you want, baby brother." Sören guided Anthony's head back and shivered, getting even closer as Anthony resumed suckling. "Mmmmm, oh, that's such a good boy..."
Anthony drove into Sören savagely, making little growling noises as he suckled Sören's nipples for all he was worth. When he tugged a nipple ring with his teeth, heat in his eyes, Sören climaxed, throwing his head back and crying out, even though they had been trying to keep it down. Anthony followed a few seconds later, groaning as his entire body shook, giving a shuddery sigh.
"God, we are kinky fuckers," Sören laughed as they snuggled together.
"That's why we belong together." Anthony kissed Sören's brow and squeezed him.
chapter 30 | return to Learning To Fly | return to Other Tolkien Fic | return to index