March 2015
London, England
It was a rainy Saturday afternoon; Sören Sigurðsson and his older partner, Nicholas Decaux, were antiquing. If someone had told Sören six months ago he'd be browsing antique shops he would have laughed, but it was one of Nicholas's hobbies, and since Sören had moved in with him, Nicholas was in the process of redecorating to try to make the place feel like theirs, to make Sören feel at home. Sören was still a bit lost - though he was an artist, he wasn't the "interior design kind of gay" - but nonetheless, he enjoyed watching Nicholas come alive as he studied old furniture and knicknacks.
Nicholas held up an iridescent violet carnival glass vase with a carved dragon on it for Sören to consider, and that was when Sören noticed something else. Something he definitely hadn't come here for.
"What do you think of this, dear?"
"Meep."
Nicholas blinked, confused.
Sören discreetly pointed and hissed, "Oh shit, it's Elaine." He was looking at a tall woman with short, pixie-cut steel-grey hair, wearing wire-rimmed glasses and a smart black pantsuit, carrying a Louis Vuitton bag. Sören muttered, "Hide me."
But he was too late - Elaine's gaze fixed right on him and she flashed him a smile, raising a hand in greeting.
"Sören! Sören, hi!" Elaine made a beeline.
"Oh shit," Sören said under his breath. "Oh shit. Ho shit."
"Who's Elaine?" Nicholas whispered, and then his eyebrows shot up and his mouth opened as if in shock. Sören wondered about that reaction - briefly, as Elaine reached out to give Sören a hug. Sören somewhat hesitantly returned the hug - and Elaine kiss-kissed his cheeks European style. Then Elaine pulled back a little, looking him up and down.
"Sören. You're looking well." Elaine's London accent was pleasant to listen to in her deep, rich voice.
"Takk, Elaine. So are you." Sören gave a nervous chuckle. "Fancy meeting you here."
"I'm shopping for a gift for my mum," Elaine said. "Her birthday is in two weeks and, well." Elaine pursed her lips. "She's not doing well and we think this might be her last birthday."
Sören's face tightened. "Oh. I'm sorry."
Elaine nodded. "Thank you, Sören."
Sören took a deep breath. "How... how is Anthony taking it?" It hurt to say the name, even now.
"Well, you know." Elaine gave a small shrug. "He was fond of his gran, so he's sad, but she's also old and has been on the decline for a few years now, so it's not entirely unexpected. But..." Now Elaine took a deep breath. "This is icing on the cake of what's been a difficult time for him."
Sören's weight shifted from one foot to the other. "Jæja. I, ah." Sören looked down.
"Sören, let me be blunt with you. My son does not cry. He has to be guarded with his emotions in the courtroom, and handling the cases he does, seeing some of the things he sees. He comes to visit more often since... everything... and I have more than once seen him out in the garden crying. Looking at photos of you. And I mean recently, not just immediately after the breakup. He stayed over last weekend in his old room and cried himself to sleep and when I asked him the next day what was wrong, he said he missed you."
Sören's eyes misted and his jaw trembled a little. His mind's eye flashed a series of little moments - like the stuffed tiger Anthony had bought him when he'd found out what happened to Sören's blue bunny... the surprise trip to Sweden when Sören had lamented not wanting to go back to Iceland but missing the aurora... the beautiful erotic art he'd painted of the two of them in the throes of passion, looking at each other so lovingly. And it had all come crashing down, Anthony caught in flagrante delicto just before the wedding. God, what a mess.
"It's been over a year," Sören rasped.
"I know." Elaine nodded.
"And you know what he did. I assume he told you."
"He did. And I won't make excuses for that, but I think you know he regrets what he did." Elaine reached in her Louis Vuitton bag. "Look, Sören. I don't like to ask for favors, or be seen as begging. But I wish you and Anthony could at least talk, to try to find some closure." She produced a business card. "That's in case you no longer have his contact information. Please. I'm worried about him, and at least having a heart to heart with him might do my son some good."
And then Elaine turned and saw Nicholas. "Jean-Luc, is that you?"
Nicholas cleared his throat. "Elaine? Elaine MacLeod?"
"Elaine Hewlett-Johnson, now." Elaine's face lit up at the recognition; she came down the steps out to the garden and put her arms around Nicholas, kissing him on both cheeks French-style, as Nicholas chuckled and returned the hug. "Jean-Luc Decaux, it's been ages."
Nicholas gave a nervous little clear of his throat. "I go by Nicholas now."
"Ah, I see." Elaine nodded. "I'd heard a rumor that you went into the priesthood."
Nicholas said, "I left the priesthood. It's not Father, just Nicholas."
"I see," Elaine said, and Sören thought her face registered a touch of relief.
Nicholas nodded, as if he picked up on that as well. "My conscience bothered me what with the corruption and the scandal in the Church, well before it was ever publicized. Even if the Church hadn't been so plagued with abuse, it's not exactly a welcoming place for... people like myself." Sören watched the small nod of acknowledgment from Elaine, as if she knew exactly what he meant by that without Nicholas having to come right out and announce he was gay. Nicholas went on, "I started my life over again in my thirties. I became a professor, taught Classics at Merton College for awhile. Now I teach at UCL."
"You taught at Oxford? Goodness," Elaine said. "But then, you always were a good teacher." Elaine turned to Sören and explained, "The Decaux family lived next door when I was growing up. Jean-Luc... er, Nicholas, now... was my French tutor." Elaine turned back to Nicholas. "It was because of your French lessons that I was able to study in France. I went to École Nationale Supérieure d'Architecture de Paris-Belleville."
"Magnifique," Nicholas said, with a small smile. "Je suis très fier de toi."
"Merci beaucoup."
Oh god, this is so awkward. Sören shifted his weight from one foot to the other. It was bad enough seeing Elaine, somehow worse to know that Elaine and Nicholas went way back.
"I'd love to get coffee with you sometime and catch up," Elaine said.
"I'd like that," Nicholas said, his smile more relaxed.
"Or you could come over for tea. I have a bread maker and I'd love to make you some fresh-baked homemade bread. That invite extends to you also, Sören, I know you and my son aren't together anymore but I was always fond of you."
That hit like a punch to the gut, but Sören kept himself calm - like he was in the operating theatre - until they left the shop and headed home. On the ride back to their flat in Covent Garden, Sören kept staring at the business card with C. ANTHONY HEWLETT-JOHNSON on it, flipping it over and over, holding back the tears, feeling devastated, old wounds ripped open all over again.
Nicholas gave Sören some space with his thoughts for awhile, until they were inside their flat. "Are you all right, love?"
"No, I'm not." Sören's eyes met his and the tears began to flow, silently.
Nicholas took a deep breath. "You still love him, don't you?"
As much as Sören didn't want to hurt Nicholas, he knew there was no use in lying, either. He broke down, sobbing. Instead of responding with anger, Nicholas went to him and wrapped him in a fierce, tight hug.
"Mon Dieu." Nicholas rocked him, kissed his tears. "I had a feeling you were still carrying a torch for him, but..."
"I'm so sorry. I love you. I really do. I want to build a life with you, but -"
"But feelings don't work where you can turn them on and off at will. The heart wants what it wants, and I know your heart is big enough to hold both of us, your love for me does not erase your feelings for him, and vice versa."
Sören nodded, trying to calm down and not really doing a good job of it, giving in to another round of ugly crying. "I just." Sören ran a hand through his curls. "I still love him, yes. We were so good together. He says he cheated because I was working ridiculous hours and there wasn't much time for us anymore, and he wasn't in love with the guy, it was just sex. But I mean, I don't know if I can ever trust him again."
"If he's as contrite as it seems from what his mother said, do you really think he'd cheat on you a second time?"
Sören shrugged. "Probably not."
"And, as you know, you now insist on non-monogamy as the rule up front."
"Are you... are you trying to get me to take him back?" Sören's lips quirked. "You don't even like this guy."
"No, I don't. And as you know, I don't like that he cheated on you. But everything you told me about what it was like before that... and everything his mother just said..." Nicholas began to fix tea, but was still listening to Sören.
"And I mean... let's presume he would never cheat again. That he'd agree to be honest with me at all times, and stick to it. Well, that's only one part of the problem. I don't want to disrupt our life, and even if you're fine with it... We get back to why the dishonesty happened in the first place. That wasn't created in a vacuum. There was the problem of my schedule and his. But also, even if we worked something out with our respective hours, some of that distance happened with me and him because of the way he is in public versus the way he is in private - the face he puts on out there isn't very likable to people like us. He has a lot more substance and sensitivity and heart and fire than the world knows and it fucking infuriates me that he pretends otherwise. And, this all ties back to his pride. Instead of trying to tell me 'I need more than what you're giving, please let's find a solution', he had too much goddamn fucking pride to come to me about it. He didn't want to 'beg'. Because apparently talking about your issues like a motherfucking adult is 'begging', when you've internalized fucking classist, macho..." Sören shook his head, his voice trailing off. He caught his breath and went on, "And I have too much pride to set myself up for that again. Maybe he won't cheat again, maybe he won't lie again, but the pride that made him go there might rear its head in other ugly ways. My heart can't take going through that one more time. It hurt too much the first time." Sören let out a shuddery sigh. "It still hurts. God, I miss him so much..."
Nicholas gestured for Sören to sit down to tea, putting out biscuits with it. "What would it take for you to give him a second chance?"
"Why are you even asking..."
"Because I love you and I don't like to see you hurting. Because I want to see you happy, even if that means sharing you with... him. So please, answer the question."
Sören snorted. "He'd have to humble himself quite a bit. Really... re-evaluate his life, his priorities, his inner and outer realities. And I don't see him doing that." Sören shrugged and sipped his tea.
"And what do you want to do?" Nicholas cocked his head to one side.
"Drink," Sören laughed softly. He quickly sobered. "I don't fucking know. Try to forget and keep moving on... but I've been trying to forget and move on for over a fucking year. I don't think I can, anymore." He reached out to take Nicholas's hand. "Maybe you could help me get out of my head and go to a better place for awhile."
"I think I could do that," Nicholas said. He put down his tea and pulled Sören into a deep, hungry kiss.
They made their way into the shower, and spent a moment holding each other, rocking together under the spray. Then they kissed again... and again, hands sliding over each other's naked bodies, exploring, playing. They washed each other's hair and beards, then Sören reached for the liquid soap and poured some on his hands, and Nicholas gave an appreciative moan as Sören began to lather his chest, enjoying the feel of Nicholas's chest hair, rubbing it, fingers running through it, combing it.
Sören lathered him all over, smirking as Nicholas's cock rose. Sören lathered that too, stroking slowly as they kissed again. Then Nicholas rinsed, and soaped his own hands and rubbed Sören down, covering him in bubbles, palms and fingers lingering everywhere he knew Sören was sensitive - spine, nipples, stomach, hips and thighs. Earlier in the month Sören had gotten a tattoo of a fireflower rose on the side of his body where he had a flame sleeve tattoo, leading to a fiery phoenix on his back; the fireflower rose sat where his hip and waist met, an exquisitely erogenous place that Nicholas was fond of kissing, licking, nibbling and caressing. Nicholas's fingers brushed it now, sending a shiver through Sören, and Nicholas laughed softly at Sören's hard cock jolting at the touch, then he groaned as he watched precum slide down Sören's shaft.
After Sören rinsed, Sören took both their cocks into his fist and stroked them as they kissed. Sören's free hand rubbed Nicholas's chest hair, played with his nipples. Nicholas's fingers brushed over Sören's sensitive skin, giving him gooseflesh, and at last Nicholas began to kiss and lick Sören's neck. "Shall we take this to the bedroom, my sweet?" Nicholas asked before kissing the sweet spot where Sören's neck and shoulder met, making Sören cry out.
"Yes, Daddy."
On the bed they lay there, looking into each other's eyes, and Nicholas stroked Sören's cheek, tracing his lips with his thumb, and ran his thumb along Sören's beard as they kissed again. Sören melted into the kiss, moaning, and he moaned again louder as he felt Nicholas's cock rub against his, felt Nicholas's body hair rub against his softer skin. Nicholas resumed kissing down Sören's neck, taking little nibbles, and Sören groaned and shivered, fingers walking down Nicholas's back.
"You said I had earnt some spankings," Sören husked, giving him a teasing grin.
"A few," Nicholas said with a wicked smile.
Sören rolled over. Nicholas slapped his ass and Sören moaned, bucking, thrusting his ass out to encourage more. A second slap, and Sören's cock throbbed, his hole twitching, aching to be filled. Nicholas spanked him again and again and again, until Sören was panting, trembling, whimpering, fists grabbing the pillows white-knuckled. Nicholas rubbed Sören's stinging ass cheeks, and then rolled him back over to look into his eyes again and give him a tender little kiss. Sören let out a whine and started rubbing his cock against Nicholas's more insistently. "Daddy," he begged, electrified from the spanking, out of his mind with need. "Daddy, fuck me..."
"So impatient." Nicholas chuckled, and kissed him harder as his fingers strayed to play with a pierced nipple, teasing it erect. Sören gasped - his nipples were hard-wired to his cock and Nicholas knew that. He cried out when Nicholas pinched the nipple, tugged on the ring.
"You know me," Sören said. "I'm naughty." Sören bit his lower lip.
"Yes. But you're also a good boy." Nicholas kissed the tip of his nose and pet Sören's curls, stroked his face again. "You were a good boy, being honest with Daddy about everything even though you knew it would be difficult."
"I tried," Sören said. "I tried to be good, Daddy. I love you and I would never want to hurt my Daddy."
"I know, sweetheart." Nicholas kissed down Sören's neck and throat again, intensifying that need in him, Sören's cock stiffening even more, twinging, wanting. Nicholas kissed down to Sören's chest. "You've got a beautiful heart, love." With that, he kissed over Sören's heart.
Sören sighed, and stroked Nicholas's whiskers, kissing him hungrily when Nicholas came back up. Nicholas started playing with Sören's nipple again, then the other, and when Sören moaned into the kiss, shuddering, Nicholas gave Sören's ass a firm but playful swat, chuckling as Sören laughed.
"My good boy," Nicholas husked.
Sören loved that. He didn't know he had such a kink for it, but he did, biting his lip again as precum dripped down his shaft.
"I think you deserve a reward for being such a good boy," Nicholas said.
"Oh? What do I get, Daddy?"
"To start, I think my good boy deserves a sweet."
Oh goddddd.... Sören shuddered again, cock throbbing, knowing exactly what he meant, wanting it so badly. He licked his lips as he looked down at Nicholas's cock, long, thick, uncut, slightly upcurved, flushed a deep pink, the veins prominent. "That's a big lolly, Daddy. I don't know if it'll all fit in my mouth." Sören slid down the length of Nicholas's body, breathing in the scent of him clean from the shower, the touch of musk of his arousal. "But it looks delicious."
With that, Sören began to just lick Nicholas's cock, licking and licking, tongue lashing the slit in the head, swirling around and around the head, rubbing the foreskin and the frenulum, then he licked up and down the shaft, long, slow strokes, and then shorter, faster ones. Nicholas groaned, grabbing Sören's curls, and the look of lust on his face made Sören's own cock jolt. Sören found his own hand straying to his cock, not able to help stroking himself as he licked Nicholas's cock all over, slow then fast, up and down, Nicholas's moans rising, Nicholas breathing harder, quivering. At last Sören took Nicholas's cock into his mouth. He'd had enough experience with sucking cock over the years that it actually wasn't trouble to fit it in, but it was part of the game. Sören swallowed him down inch by inch and sucked slowly, savoring. "Mmmmmmm. Mmmmmmmm, mmmmm."
"Oh, love," Nicholas gasped.
Sören teasingly let the cock slip from his mouth and gave it a few licks. "Oh, Daddy, it's so good." Then he put it back in his mouth, sucking slowly, rubbing his tongue as he sucked, kissing it, gripping his own cock harder as he watched Nicholas's pleasure, reveled in every delicious moan and gasp.
Soon Sören was sucking him harder, faster, really getting into it. Sören would have been happy with Nicholas coming in his mouth, but before that could happen Nicholas pulled Sören off his cock with a, "Stop."
"What's wrong, Daddy?"
"Nothing's wrong. I just want to finish inside you, is all."
Sören couldn't object to that, either - his body was screaming for Nicholas's cock inside him. Nicholas usually only had enough for one orgasm and if they had time, a couple of hours to recharge and go again. But he had work in the morning.
Sören came up to kiss him, and now Nicholas took their hard cocks together in his hand, stroking slowly. "I liked that, Daddy," Sören said between kisses. "It was a very nice sweet."
"Daddy wants something sweet now, too." Nicholas started kissing down Sören's neck again, driving him wild, Sören crying out as Nicholas kissed and nibbled his shoulder. Then his tongue brushed a nipple and Sören howled, bucking against him.
Nicholas's tongue slowly, lovingly licked the nipple, then rubbed it harder, faster, before drawing it into his mouth, sucking hard. Sören gasped and whimpered, a shiver down his spine, his cock aching, needing. "Mmmmm," Nicholas said with a little smile. "Lovely." His tongue swirled around the nipple and then lashed the hard nub again, before suckling even harder, making Sören produce an inhuman noise at the pleasure surging through him. Nicholas turned his head to the other nipple, and his fingers and thumb played with the glistening wet, peaked nipple he'd just been sucking on, as his tongue worked its magic, fluttering then lapping, lips latching onto it hard, licking and sucking some more. Back and forth he went between them, playing with one as he feasted on the other. The harder and more swollen Sören's nipples got, the more aggressive Nicholas got, until he was nibbling on them, tugging on the rings with his teeth, making Sören writhe and pant, "oh god. oh god. ohgodohgodohgod Daddy, DaddyDaddyDaddyfuckme..."
At last Sören couldn't take it anymore, letting out a frantic keening noise, nails raking Nicholas's back. Nicholas chuckled, and he positioned himself, laying on his back, propped up against the pillows. "Would my good boy like a horsey ride?"
"Oh god, yes."
Nicholas reached for the lubricant they kept by the bed. Sören poured lube over Nicholas's cock and worked it over, stroking slowly, admiring the sight of Nicholas's cock glistening. Nicholas slicked his fingers and put two inside Sören, finding that spot inside him right away, rubbing it in circles as they kissed. Sören rubbed Nicholas's chest, feeling his chest hair, teasing his nipples, and soon Sören was kissing Nicholas's neck, wanting to make him crazy too. When Nicholas couldn't take it anymore he grabbed Sören's hips, and Sören sank down, slowly.
They both cried out when Nicholas was all the way inside, the wonder of that moment of union, joined, one flesh. Nicholas took Sören's face and kissed him hard, kissed him with all the fire he'd kept in reserve for his adult life, and Sören moaned into the kiss, tears in his eyes as he felt overcome by love, passion, knowing what this meant to Nicholas, to be intimate with someone this way.
Sören began to ride slowly. Nicholas groaned, taking in the sight of his cock gliding in and out of Sören's passage, the sight of Sören's hips rolling. Sören loved that lust in Nicholas's eyes, making him feel like a porn star, a sex god. "You like that, Daddy?" Sören whispered.
"I love it, sweetheart." Nicholas stroked Sören's face, and his hand rested on Sören's heart. "I love you."
They kissed again, their hands roaming over each other's bodies, caressing, loving, needing to feel every inch of each other. Sören rose up and continued his slow ride, like a sensual dance. But Nicholas's cock rubbing that magic button inside him felt too good, and soon Sören was riding him harder, faster, until he was bouncing away, and Nicholas grabbed Sören's hips, thrusting into him, matching his rhythm, making Sören work for it, giving him a good, hard ride.
"Oh god, Daddy," Sören panted, holding onto Nicholas for dear life. "Daddy, Daddy, Pabbi, oh god, Pabbi, that's so good..."
Nicholas groaned. "Such a good boy..."
Sören cried out and rode even harder. He felt himself getting closer, closer, and at last the heat in Nicholas's dark eyes sent him to that point of no return. "Daddy I'm gonna come -"
"Yes, sweetheart. Come for Daddy, my good boy."
Sören screamed as he erupted all over Nicholas's chest, letting out a huge blast of his seed, the prostate orgasm so intense it almost hurt, euphoria pouring into him as his seed flooded out of him. Nicholas made a deep, guttural primal noise as he filled Sören with his own seed, shaking. Sören loved that feeling, loved being claimed that way.
Sören felt like his legs were made of spaghetti, the pleasure liquefying his brain, laying there with a stupid, blissed-out grin on his face, feeling like he was high. Nicholas smiled at him fondly and rained kisses over his face.
"I love you, Daddy," Sören said.
"I love you, sweet boy." Nicholas kissed the tip of Sören's nose. He pulled Sören close, and Sören snuggled into his chest, rubbing his nose in the chest hair, giving a happy sigh as Nicholas began to pet his curls.
For at least right then, everything was all right.
In the haze of afterglow, Nicholas saw Sören get up to go to the bathroom, but on the way out of the bedroom he watched him take the business card from his wallet and throw it in the wastebasket.
When Sören came back in he snuggled up to Nicholas and started to doze off, as he did after sex. After they'd been laying there for awhile, cozy and content, Nicholas looked at the wastebasket and then he shook his head, mouthing the word stubborn.
Nicholas gently and quietly got up from the bed. He walked over to the wastebasket and fished out the C. ANTHONY HEWLETT-JOHNSON business card and put it with the business cards in his own wallet. Just in case. It felt so weird, having Anthony's business card in there of all things, but then... nothing about any of this was normal.
Nicholas got back on the bed. Sören made a questioning little murmur and Nicholas wrapped his arms around the younger man, legs tangling back up with Sören's. "I'm right here, love," Nicholas husked, planting a kiss on Sören's forehead, smoothing his curls.
"Don't go," Sören mumbled, pain in his voice, and it was clear in the state of semi-wakefulness that Sören was calling out as much to Anthony as he was to Nicholas.
Nicholas sighed and snuggled closer to Sören, arms tightening around him, nose rubbing in Sören's curls.
chapter 2 | return to Learning To Fly | return to Other Tolkien Fic | return to index