December 2009
Gothenburg, Sweden
On Monday, December twenty-first, 2009, Dooku celebrated his sixty-first birthday - and his twentieth anniversary with Maglor. It had been quite the two decades.
In 1992, they had moved from Berlin to Amsterdam, with Dooku practicing international law at the British embassy there, and "Marcus Lauer" worked as a curator at the Tropenmuseum, which housed 5,500 musical instruments and a large collection of theatrical objects such as masks and puppets. He didn't need to work - Dooku had found out some time after the revelation that Maglor had a significant sum of money across multiple offshore bank accounts, having had a very long time to amass a wealth of gold and rare, valuable items, including an original Stradivarius violin. But Maglor liked having something to do with himself. By rights, he should have been a world-famous composer and performer; not long after the reveal Dooku had finally seen Maglor's harp, a relic of the Fourth Age. Maglor could not risk the limelight, and he had problems with the concept of celebrity and fame anyway as a deeply sensitive, empathic introvert who wanted to live a quiet, private life with space to create. Yet, he needed to keep busy, "keep out of trouble," Maglor joked, and the Tropenmuseum was a good fit for him, while it lasted.
In 1999, as the Internet began to really take off, Maglor had decided it was time to move again, and had let Dooku have the honors of choosing their next destination. He'd chosen Sweden, and that was where they had been for the last ten years, Dooku working at the British embassy in Stockholm until 2004 when Dooku was fifty-five - now gone from middle age to what many considered the start of the senior years - and had decided a sea change was in order with his career. He'd decided to turn his lifelong love of cooking from a hobby into a livelihood, and Dooku and Maglor moved to Gothenburg, where Dooku owned a well-reviewed fusion restaurant in the same plaza where Maglor, now using the name Mark Lowry and the backstory of being a British expat, owned a musical instruments shop and gave lessons in guitar and piano. They were happy with the life they'd created, enough that most of the time they could forget about Dooku's advancing age and mortality, which would eventually rip them apart again after finding each other again when it had been so long.
Since their move from Stockholm to Gothenburg in 2004, it had become a birthday tradition for Maglor to take Dooku to Liseberg, which was all lit up and decked out for Christmas. One thing that Dooku appreciated about Scandinavians was that Christmas was serious business, and living here and participating in Swedish Christmas merriment was a balm for his soul after miserable holidays as a child. The Christmas star shone atop the Liseberg Tower, and Maglor and Dooku walked hand-in-hand, boots crunching in the snow, browsing the market stalls and drinking mulled wine, nibbling Swedish delicacies, admiring handicrafts. They amused themselves in Santa's Workshop, and the garden with its lights was the perfect place to steal a kiss.
It was nice living in a place and time where they didn't have to hide being a couple.
On the drive back to their flat, the Northern Lights began to play in the sky, enough that Maglor pulled over the car and they got out to look at it, breath steaming the air as snow fell softly. Dooku had seen the aurora plenty of times over the last ten years in Sweden, but he never got tired of it. It took his breath away. The sight of Maglor, even glamoured out here in a semi-public place, underneath the aurora was even more breathtaking. After noticing him admiring, Maglor put an arm around him and Dooku rested his head on Maglor's shoulder, as Maglor's other arm reached up for his bad hand, wearing a glove, to stroke the beard that had long since gone silver. At last Maglor cupped Dooku's chin in his hand before stroking his cheek, looking tenderly into his eyes. Maglor's own eyes were labradorite-iridescent again, dropping his glamour ever so slightly in this moment.
They nuzzled and stole another kiss before pulling apart to watch the Northern Lights in the open sky a few minutes more.
Tonight, as Dooku was firmly thrust into the sixth decade of his life, it all felt more poignant than usual. Once Maglor got back on the road, he noticed Dooku looking down, deep in thought. "You're serious all of a sudden."
Dooku nodded. He looked out the window as the greens and teals and violets continued to dance across the sky. "This is going to be our last Christmas in Sweden, isn't it."
"Afraid so." Maglor nodded. "I was going to bring it up after the holidays... that we need to move again soon, but..."
"We might as well talk about it now."
"So..." Their eyes met, before Maglor turned his focus back to the road. "Where do you want to go next, Nicolae? It's up to you. Like I told you when we left Amsterdam, if I'm going to drag you along with me, I'd rather you choose where we're going so you don't end up hating me."
"I could never hate you, Macalaurë."
Maglor glanced back at him and smiled. "I love you, you know."
"I love you too. And that love for you has only grown stronger with time." My lust for you, as well. With snowflakes melting in his hair and eyelashes, sparkling like thousands of tiny diamonds, Maglor was a majestic sight. He'd dropped the glam rock look in 1991 - though hair bands were still Maglor's guilty pleasure - but continued to wear his hair loose to the middle of his back unglamoured, and dressed in black most of the time, an upscale casual look that was flawlessly elegant.
Elegant apart from the ankle-high black leather, yellow-stitched Doc Martens boots, that he'd been wearing since they met in Berlin. They were a part of Maglor, a quietly rebellious "fuck you" to the mainstream society that he had to blend into, and Dooku found the consistency of it comforting.
Dooku reflected on the possibilities of where to go next as they made the last leg of their trip home. He still hadn't figured out an answer as they walked up the steps to their flat. He couldn't think at all once they stepped inside, where a mistletoe was hanging right under the front door, and Maglor pulled him into a deep, hungry kiss.
They began to take each other's wool trenchcoats off, kissing again and again. Dooku started marching Maglor in the direction of the bedroom. Being over sixty had not diminished his appetite for sex at all, and two decades together had not brought about boredom - they had learned each other's bodies well, what pleased each other, and there were so many delicious things to do, different positions, the occasional toy, once in a great while they took turns being tied up and teased, and they had even indulged in watersports a small handful of times over twenty years, marking their territory before wild, animalistic rutting. As their usual play, they liked sucking and rimming each other, rubbing cock to cock, fingering and sometimes fisting; they traded top and bottom, enjoying taking each other and being taken, the beauty and passion of being inside each other, one flesh, fitting together perfectly. They liked it slow, they liked it fast and hard, they liked it tender and loving, they liked it rough and savage. It was all good.
It was all right, as right as anything had ever been.
Maglor laughed between kisses as they crossed the threshold of the bedroom. "I have a birthday present for you. Don't you want to unwrap it?"
"Hmm, yes I do." Dooku started kissing Maglor's neck, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. "I want to unwrap this present right here."
Maglor wasn't going to argue with him about that, already erect, undoing his own belt and the button and zipper of his trousers. When they were both naked, they resumed kissing as Dooku took their hard cocks into his hand, stroking the slowly as his free hand played with Maglor's hair, which was now unglamoured, down to his thighs.
Dooku pulled back to drink in the sight of him, glowing softly silver in the dim golden light of their bedroom - the faintest memory of the Trees. "You're exquisite," Dooku husked.
Maglor smiled. He'd heard it thousands of times from him now, but, "I never get tired of hearing you say that."
"You're a work of art." Dooku came closer and their cocks rubbed together as their arms encircled each other, kissing again feverishly. "I never get tired of looking at you." He licked Maglor's neck. "I can't get enough of you."
Maglor shivered. "I can't get enough of you, either."
Dooku laughed as they fell back onto the bed. "You're kind to an old man."
Maglor narrowed his eyes. "It's the truth."
Dooku gave a small, sad smile. "You don't age, and are just as gloriously beautiful as when we first met. I am old and grey and wrinkled now."
"Nicolae." Maglor stroked Dooku's silver beard, then his fingers trailed down to the pelt of silver hair on his chest, rubbing a nipple in slow, lazy circles. "You have actually improved with age. I find you even sexier now than I did when you were forty. The grey is quite distinguished on you." He nibbled Dooku's neck, and kissed along his jaw, before whispering in his ear, "My silver wolf."
They kissed, and then Maglor lowered his head to lap the nipple he'd been playing with. "All of that silver fur." He rubbed his nose in the chest hair before licking the nipple some more. "And you have such a gorgeous body." His fingers played over the definition in Dooku's chest and arms and stomach, lean but muscular.
Dooku took care of himself - the Force and perhaps his genetics allowed him the kind of energy at his age to keep up with men decades younger, though he had the beginnings of a touch of arthritis. He hit the gym three times a week, and both he and Maglor enjoyed fencing, which they had an outlet for at a local fencing club, sparring with Swedes as well as with each other; sparring each other was rather arousing, always leading to wild, passionate sex when they got home, sometimes not even able to wait until then, fucking in the back seat of their car in the fencing club parking lot, giggling in the afterglow about acting like horny teenagers not able to keep their hands off each other. Dooku was not particularly superficial and hung up on appearances, even though he was an aestheticist and surely enjoyed Maglor's ethereal beauty, but he liked being in good health. He remembered the way his parents died of cancer, and he didn't want to make Maglor suffer through that. The end was going to be hard, whenever it was, and he was determined to prolong that as long as he could, to be strong and healthy as long as he could, not wanting Maglor to endure taking care of him in frailty and sickness.
But, even as he kept himself in shape for health reasons, his ego was still stroked now as Maglor licked the chest hair, going back and forth between his nipples to lick and suckle, tugging gently with his teeth, kissing and licking down to the lightly furred stomach, nibbling, knowing how sensitive he was there. Maglor's flood of hair teasingly brushed against his cock, a promise of attention hopefully soon.
"So sexy." Maglor traced the definition in the washboard stomach with his tongue. "My delicious silver wolf."
Dooku found himself grabbing Maglor by the hair, pulling him up to kiss him roughly. "This wolf is hungry for you." He nipped Maglor's throat with a growl, making Maglor gasp and cry out, shivering, trembling again when Dooku rolled Maglor onto his back.
They kissed and kissed, Maglor's arms wrapped around him as their hard cocks rubbed together, precum flowing between them, making their cocks glisten; Dooku stole a glance at Maglor's cock, which looked deliciously inviting all slick. Maglor collected some of the dripping precum with his fingers and stuck them in Dooku's mouth, heat in his eyes as Dooku licked and sucked Maglor's fingers clean. Then Maglor moaned, shuddering as Dooku licked the scar on his palm, and sighed as Dooku kissed it, before taking the hand and placing it on his heart.
His mouth claimed Maglor's again. "So hungry for you, darling." He kissed and licked Maglor's neck, grinning into him as he kissed the sweet spot where the neck and shoulder met, cock throbbing at the wild cry that came out of Maglor as he did. "Twenty years and I still want you this much." His teeth raked Maglor's shoulder before he leaned in to gently tug a nipple with his teeth before soothing it with his tongue, cock twinging as Maglor cried out again, bucking urgently. "Twenty years of feasting on you for hours every day still doesn't feel like enough."
"I've been hoping you'd retire so we could just spend all day in bed every day." Maglor flashed him a wicked grin.
Dooku groaned at that thought... hot, sweaty sex and endless orgasms...
"We do have to keep out of trouble, my dear." Dooku kissed him and they both laughed into the kiss.
"I know. But I'm just letting you know. The next twenty years, I'll still want this. I'll still want you." Maglor stroked his face, pet his whiskers again. "The next two hundred years, two thousand years, would never be enough."
Dooku's eyes burned and blurred with tears, feeling that deep ache knowing he was entering the sunset of his life - that the next twenty years, if fate was even kind enough to make them good years and not a sharp decline, were not even a drop in the bucket for someone who had lived twenty thousand years, and had been apart from him more years than they'd had together.
And apart from Fëanor. Dooku often wondered if he was out there. They had agreed early on to keep their options open but they both shared a distaste for the gay cruising scene, not wanting to go to clubs or bars to meet a possible third, and they weren't interested in the dating via hookup sites online, either. They'd decided that if Fëanor was out there and their paths were meant to cross it would happen naturally.
Still, the lack of their third - that missing piece - also intensified the ache. Dooku blinked back tears, not wanting to fall apart and ruin what was supposed to be a happy night, when things had been going so well. Maglor noticed, of course, and his fingers traced over Dooku's face, sadness in his own eyes.
"I'm so sorry, Macalaurë. I feel like this isn't fair to you -"
"Nicolae. Don't." Maglor silenced him with a gentle kiss. "Admittedly, there would have been a point in time, almost like another me, who would have left rather than watch... you... die again." His fingers continued to play over Dooku's face. "But I can't." A wry smile, as he quoted Brokeback Mountain. "I can't quit you."
"I just hope it won't hurt too much -"
"It will hurt more than anything except for your first death, and my father's." Our lover's. "But." He kissed Dooku's hand. "Maybe, as you say, we will find each other again." His fingers walked down from Dooku's face, to play in his chest hair again. "You better be as goddamn sexy as you are now, is all I can say about that."
It was a much-needed moment of levity, and Dooku laughed harder than he normally would have.
"Seriously." Maglor's thumb was rubbing a nipple again. "The Valar may have punished you with a mortal incarnation, but sometimes I wonder if Father didn't somehow fashion you to be an absolutely delectable mortal, as a jab in their collective eye."
"You know," Dooku said, stealing a kiss, "flattery will get you everywhere."
"Will it get me down your pants?"
"I'm not wearing any pants."
"...This is completely shocking information."
They laughed and kissed again, and Maglor's arms tightened around him, rocking them both a little as their cocks rubbed together some more and the kisses deepened, heated.
"Mmmmm." Dooku nibbled on Maglor's neck, and licked; it was his turn to tease a nipple. "You're pretty delectable yourself."
"You did say you were a hungry wolf."
"Very." With that, he bent his head to lick, suckle, and bite Maglor's nipples, fingers playing with one as his mouth worked on the other. Then his mouth went lower, kissing Maglor's own washboard stomach - he had the hard body of a Noldorin warrior, and just the sight of him got Dooku aroused, never mind the petal-soft feel of his almost hairless skin, silk covering steel, and the way Maglor moaned as he explored, knowing just how he liked to be touched, pleasured. Soon Dooku was kissing and nibbling Maglor's thighs, licking, loving the way Maglor cried out, trembling, until he was grabbing Dooku's head, panting, "Please..."
But Dooku was enjoying himself to give in just yet. He nuzzled the luxurious dark bush, one of the only other places Maglor had hair, breathing in the spicy-sweet natural musk of him. Maglor's cock was dripping more precum and Dooku began to taste, licking Maglor's cock in slow, deliberate strokes, watching his lover continue to fall apart, writhing, moaning, panting, pleading with feverish eyes. He sucked slowly, hand gently cupping and rolling the balls, fingers stealing to that sensitive place between balls and ass to brush ever so softly. He knew how to get Maglor right on that edge and keep him there, which was always so well worth the wait of release.
And yet, as Dooku's mouth moved from Maglor's cock to his opening, tongue rubbing the prostate, switching between fast and slow strokes, he was needy for release himself. Perhaps it was that reminder of growing older, and that their lives would have to change again, that added a sense of urgency to the lovemaking. Perhaps it was Maglor being louder than usual, thighs quivering as Dooku ate him, begging to be taken and fucked. All he knew was that there came a point where he couldn't take it anymore, the purely animal side of him took over, and he came up to kiss Maglor roughly, used the Force to pour lube into Maglor's channel and over his own hard, throbbing cock, tip poised at the entrance.
"Yes?" Their eyes met.
"Yes," Maglor breathed.
Dooku kissed him hard and slid inside. He pounded Maglor into the mattress, Maglor's arms and legs wrapped around him, and Maglor rocked his hips right back at him, giving as good as he got, lost in the same wild frenzy of passion. "Oh Hells." Maglor was trembling, panting, gasping for breath. "Oh Hells, Nicolae... Ñolofinwë, Fingolfin..."
Dooku made a primal, guttural noise at that. He fucking loved it when Maglor called him by that first name, of long ago. The true name. "Macalaurë."
"Fuck me..." Maglor's nails were raking his back hard enough to draw blood. "Fuck me, Ñolofinwë..." He moved in closer and whispered, "Fuck me, Uncle."
Dooku was savage now, fucking Maglor as hard as he could, Maglor's legs on his shoulders, the wild slap of his balls against Maglor's ass as loud as their cries. He'd envisioned the first round of birthday sex as slower, more sensual and tender, but he needed this. They both needed. Not dead yet. He was still alive - fully, gloriously alive, driving into Maglor with vigor and stamina that would put a much younger porn star to shame.
Maglor's nails were raking his chest as well as his back and hips. "Oh Eru. Oh, Eru, Uncle... Hells, Uncle, fuck me..."
Dooku growled. He wanted. The only other one who had ever roused his lusts like this had been Fëanor.Wherever you are, I hope you're enjoying the show.
In his mind's eye, for the briefest instant, he could see Fëanor and Maglor and himself, as he had once been, watching them. Enjoying what they saw, inflaming their own lusts as they took turns kissing each other, hands roaming over each other's bodies, three glorious, sculpted male bodies, glistening with oil, hard cocks deliciously wet...
The vision went away, but it was enough to send Dooku hurtling towards that point of no return. He was shaking now, desperately trying to hold back his climax, wanting Maglor to come first. Their eyes met, and Dooku spoke into his mind. Come for me.
"Ñolofinwë!" Maglor's entire body shook as his cock let out an arc of cum, then another, hot seed splashing over Dooku's chest and stomach.
Dooku spent into him with a cry, collapsing onto him, throbbing and throbbing as Maglor contracted around him, pulsed against him. "Macalaurë. My love." He stroked Maglor's face and hair, gently tweaked the pointy tip of his ear before kissing him deeply, passionately. "Our Song. Our sweet Song."
Maglor returned the kiss, and they clung to each other, all cares of the future melting away in bliss, the joy of having each other now, the contentment, the rightness of being here like this, entwined.
"I love you." Maglor was nuzzling his whiskers, kissing the tips of his fingers. "I love you, Nicolae. Ñolofinwë."
"I love you, Macalaurë. So much. So very, very much."
They rested for awhile, and Dooku swore he could hear Maglor playing the harp and singing the song he'd performed in the garden so long ago - the song he'd wrote for Fingolfin, shyly expressing his love and admiration for his uncle, asking Fingolfin to be his first for his fiftieth birthday. He knew Maglor was right there, holding him, being held, but it seemed as if they were not just in their bed in Sweden but floating on the clouds of light that Maglor had produced with the glory of his song, that they were somewhere out of space and time altogether, a place that was theirs, where their love would never die, like a Power all its own, strong enough to push back against the Doom.
Just before Dooku could doze off, falling asleep inside Maglor, he felt Maglor raining little kisses over his face, and one last kiss on the tip of his nose. Dooku opened his eyes and smiled, looking into those labradorite eyes of Maglor's, the eyes of love.
Then Maglor chuckled.
"What?" Dooku raised an eyebrow.
"Your chest. I... did a number on you."
Dooku glanced down - there were ribbons of blood from Maglor's nails, still bleeding. "Oh dear." He laughed too.
He stopped laughing when Maglor lowered his face and began to clean with his tongue, and with Dooku's blood on his tongue he took Dooku's face in his hands and kissed him over and over, their tongues playfully licking together between kisses. Dooku's cock woke up at that, and at the feel of the cock stirring inside him, Maglor moaned, before sucking on Dooku's lower lip.
"What does the birthday boy want now?" Maglor grinned, skritching Dooku's whiskers.
"You." Dooku kissed him harder, and slipped out of him.
Maglor rolled him onto his back. As much as Dooku wanted to feel Maglor in him, he knew he wouldn't get it so easily - Maglor spent a long time worshiping his body, kissing, licking, caressing all over, nose rubbing the silver hair on his chest and thighs, rubbing in the silver bush. "So fucking hot." He started licking Dooku's bush and Dooku almost lost it just from that, with Maglor giving that knowing smile as his tongue brushed.
When Maglor's tongue slipped into him, it was another near-climax. Maglor turned him into a trembling, moaning, writhing, whimpering mess, lapping and lapping inside him, making noises of enjoyment as he feasted. Before Dooku could come like that, Maglor stopped - giving some tormentingly delicious licks around the rim of his opening, before his tongue slid up to Dooku's cock. Then he spent awhile just licking the cock, reveling in the way Dooku lost control again, making inhuman noises as he quivered.
At last Maglor's skilled fingers were inside him, readying him, as that talented tongue danced on his nipples. And when Maglor pushed into him, Dooku gave a deep groan of contentment that made Maglor shiver, letting Dooku know all that teasing had brought him close to the edge himself.
Yet somehow Maglor was able to keep the pace slow, and they made love for a long time, touching, kissing, nuzzling, whispered words of love as Maglor pushed and pulled in and out of him like the rhythm of the tides. They were lost in a dreamy haze of sweet sensation and surrender, their Force bond so strong in those moments that it was as if they didn't know where one began and the other ended, Dooku feeling a grip around his cock as well as the exquisite rubbing on his prostate, knowing Maglor was feeling the rubbing at his prostate as his cock stroked away.
They kept it slow until they couldn't, and Dooku's leg hooked around Maglor as he thrust hard and fast, matching Dooku's wild fucking earlier. They came together, a climax that seemed endless, the pulses so strong it almost hurt, a full-body orgasm that shattered them both, laughing and crying together as they kissed, rocked, snuggled into the light.
"Happy birthday." Maglor gave him a little kiss.
Dooku squeezed him. "You give me life, Macalaurë." He kissed Maglor back. "Happy anniversary."
Maglor held Dooku's hand with his bad hand, and after a few minutes of drifting off again in melting bliss, Dooku could feel Maglor staring with those intense eyes and intense eyebrows. He was amused by how much they were alike right down to having large, expressive eyebrows. "What."
"You never did tell me where you'd like to go next."
"Is it something I have to decide tonight?"
"You overthink things, and, well, you have the Force. For once don't think, just feel. First thing that pops into your head."
Dooku closed his eyes. He saw London, where he'd been before leaving on this adventure. He hadn't quite been homesick, but... "London."
"All right. I'll start making arrangements and we'll go sometime in March."