Sören returned from his excursion with Maglor the happiest that Dooku had ever seen him. There was just enough time for Sören to set up an easel in the living room and a small table for a new set of paints and brushes, before Sören went with Dooku to work. All through his shift, Sören was in a good mood, even at the busiest points of the evening. It was infectious, and Dooku felt himself smiling too on the way home.
Sören wanted to get to work painting right away after dinner. Maglor retreated to the studio to play and compose for awhile, and Dooku retired with a book. But every now and again he felt himself drawn to the energy he could feel down the hall, and made his way to the kitchen, ostensibly to get a drink for himself or Maglor, but also to check on Sören. Sören wanted a certain degree of privacy as he painted his work in progress, so the easel was turned in the opposite direction from Dooku, where he'd have to come around to see the canvas - "I want it to be a surprise", Sören said, making a "shoo" gesture when Dooku tried to look, which made Dooku laugh to himself. He liked seeing Sören in creative mode, furiously working on taking back what was stolen from him.
Dooku stayed up a bit later than usual that night, and when he and Maglor were ready for bed, Dooku saw the light was still on down the hall - Sören had been going to bed first, since he moved in. To check whether that wasn't the case tonight or if Sören had fallen asleep and forgotten to turn off the light, Dooku went down the hall again, and Sören was still sitting there at the easel, painting feverishly. He had headphones on, music turned up, and it took a moment to get Sören's attention - he jumped at being startled, which Dooku felt a little guilty for, but then Sören took down his headphones and gave him that shy, sweet smile that took his breath away.
"Sorry to startle you," Dooku said. "I came to say good night."
"Good night, Nico."
Dooku lingered for a minute, wanting to say It's good to see you painting again, and holding back, not wanting to make Sören feel awkward, and "good" felt rather trite to describe it anyway.
The next morning Sören was still asleep when Dooku and Maglor got up - Sören had the blue bunny tucked in with him, and he was also holding onto a shiny rainbow-colored bunny. Dooku raised an eyebrow at Maglor. Yes, that's what he picked out, Maglor spoke into his mind with an affectionate eyeroll.
Dooku gently woke Sören up, who made grumpy noises into the pillow.
"Do you want coffee?" Dooku asked.
Sören nodded, making a face, and grumbled and whined into the pillow some more.
Dooku had learned from the last few weeks of living with Sören that he wasn't a morning person and it usually took Sören at least a couple hours after he physically woke up to feel mentally awake, but it seemed a bit worse this morning, with Sören wincing into a thermos of hot coffee as they went for their usual walk.
"I was up late," Sören finally explained after yet another concerned glance from Dooku.
"How late?"
"About four AM or so."
Dooku's eyebrows shot up at that.
"Jæja, I know." Sören nodded. "Time seemed to really disappear when I was painting. It's been too long."
At the restaurant, Dooku had some concern about Sören handling sharp objects while he was running on five hours of sleep, and Sören waved his hand - he'd had more coffee before work - and insisted, "I'll be fine."
"If you slip up even once," Dooku said, glaring, wagging a finger.
"I know."
Sören didn't slip - knowing he was coming into it with an alertness deficit made him extra cautious, the downside of which being he went a little slower with chopping and slicing than usual, not so much to cause a problem, but enough that it slowed down other kitchen functions just a little and earned a few dirty looks. Sören was keenly aware of it on the way home.
"I won't tell you what you can and can't do," Dooku said, "but you might consider in the future making yourself go to bed just a bit earlier while you're employed in my kitchen."
Sören sighed. "This is why I was only working ten to fifteen hours a week part-time. So I could have a more flexible schedule for painting, because when I get in the zone..." He made a noise and looked down, self-conscious. "This is why I'll never amount to anything."
Dooku pulled over the car. "Sören, don't speak of yourself that way." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I get it that... you march to the beat of a different drummer. I'm not saying that it's a bad thing, only that you need to find some balance if you intend on keeping your job. I like you and I would like to continue to keep you employed, and you usually do an outstanding job in my kitchen, more remarkable for not having any formal culinary training. But I also need to not piss off my other employees, which is going to happen if you pull another all-nighter and you're working slow..."
"All right." Sören nodded. "Lucky for you, I'm tired anyway so I'll be going to bed earlier tonight."
But there was a note of resignation in his voice. Dooku desperately wanted to give him some kind of reassurance, that he was happy Sören felt that consuming fire of creation again, he just didn't want Sören to blow his opportunity at being able to make a decent living doing something he seemed to enjoy, where he still had a chance to focus on his art. Sören wouldn't get many opportunities like that, here in London.
Dooku made Sören some chamomile tea to help him relax, and as a further concession, brought out one of the fluffier-looking warm blankets from the closet as Sören folded out the couch and started to make the bed. As Sören sat on the bed with his chamomile tea, Dooku gestured to the bunny dolls.
"Did you have fun at Build A Bear yesterday?"
Sören nodded, smiling. "I felt like a big kid again." Sören used the Force to bring his bunny dolls over, and the rainbow bunny's head started to move like a ventriloquist's puppet, without Sören touching it. "I liked taking a trip in the car to ride to my new home!" Sören said in a squeaky voice, and Dooku couldn't help but smile and laugh.
"And even though I didn't get a lot of sleep last night I slept better with my new friends, too," Sören said in his normal voice, hugging them.
"Good. We want you to feel safe here."
The rainbow bunny's head started to move again. "I feel safe here!" Sören squeaked, and then the blue bunny nodded.
Then Sören sighed. "I'm trying to feel safe again," he said in his normal voice. "It's... hard, after..."
Dooku patted him. "I know. And if there's anything Mark or I can do to help you feel safer..."
"You guys have been wonderful. Really. And I think I'm in good hands... er, paws... with Sparkle Bunny here, and..." Sören looked at the blue bunny and frowned.
"The bunny from Build A Bear is named Sparkle Bunny?" Dooku raised an eyebrow.
"That's Ms. Sparkle to you," Sören said in a squeaky voice, as he used the Force to make the rainbow bunny wave her arms and wiggle her hips. Then Sören glanced at the blue bunny. "He doesn't have a name yet."
"Did your... other bunny... have a name..." It hurt Dooku to even talk about the toy that had been lost, so cruelly destroyed by that filth...
Sören swallowed hard. "Bláberja. But I can't name him the same thing..." He looked down.
"I understand."
Sören used the Force to make the blue bunny hop over to Dooku, and then after the bunny cocked its head to one side, observing, Dooku used the Force to turn the bunny around to look at Sören, still perched on Sören's knee.
"You made him," Sören said, "you should do the honors of naming him."
Dooku laughed. "He's your bunny, dear. I wouldn't feel right..."
Sören pouted, though there was mischief in his eyes. Then Sparkle Bunny leaned in and Sören squeaked, "Maybe he should pick out his own name, já?" Sparkle Bunny looked up at Dooku hopefully.
Dooku used the Force to make the blue bunny turn his head to look at him, and then Dooku said, in a voice much deeper than his own deep voice, "I can't believe I'm doing this." He cleared his throat and sat up straight, with the blue bunny also sitting up straighter on Dooku's knee.
"What do you think your name should be, Mr. Bunny?" Dooku asked the bunny doll on his knee, and used the Force to pose the bunny so he was deep in thought, stroking his chin. Maglor was watching from down the hall now, shaking with silent laughter - Dooku glared at him and Maglor flashed a grin - and Sören was giggling.
Dooku responded in the bunny's much deeper voice. "Well, I'm not very good at names..."
Sören patted the bunny's head. "Not Very Good At Names isn't conventional, but that's OK."
Dooku facepalmed. Maglor leaned against the wall in the hallway and let out a snort that alerted Sören he was eavesdropping.
Sparkle Bunny hugged Not Very Good At Names. "Hi Not Very Good At Names!" Sören squeaked on Sparkle Bunny's behalf.
"Sören, you can't be serious about that being his name," Dooku said in his usual voice, and as Maglor walked back off to the studio, Dooku shouted after him, "And where do you think you're going?"
Maglor walked backwards down the hall until he was in the living room.
"You can't name him that," Dooku said.
"Don't discriminate against Not Very Good At Names for having a strange name," Sparkle Bunny squeaked. "Someone with the surname of Dooku shouldn't be so judgmental." Sparkle Bunny's paw clapped over her mouth. "Did I say that out loud?"
Dooku raised an eyebrow. Maglor was not even pretending not to laugh now.
"Mark..." Dooku glared at him. "Help me out here?"
"I do not wish to get involved," Maglor said, shaking his head. Then he put a hand on Dooku's shoulder. "What was up with that voice? You sounded like a British Barry White."
Sören spat his tea, doubled over. Then Sören tried the impossibly deep voice, making Not Very Good At Names sing "My darling I, can't get enough of your love baby..." to Sparkle Bunny, who giggled and swooned.
"That's enough, you two," Sören said, waggling his finger. "We don't need you breeding."
"Breeding bunnies would be terrible," Maglor said, nodding. "Just think... even more plushies to cuddle with. That would be awful."
Sören used the Force to make Not Very Good At Names whisper into Sparkle Bunny's ear, who giggled and put an arm around him, the two bunnies hopping off together.
"Wow, not so innocent, are they?" Sören asked, deadpan.
"I..." Dooku facepalmed again. "I'm too sober for this."
Not Very Good At Names stopped hopping, paused and looked Dooku up and down, and raised a paw. Sören said in the bunny's deep voice, "Hi Too Sober For This... I'm Not Very Good At Names."
_
The next three nights Sören painted in the evening while Maglor played music in the studio and Dooku read, or Dooku and Maglor played chess. Sören made himself go to bed by no later than one AM, which was the compromise between staying up late while inspiration was hot, and being well-rested enough to function at work.
Then for the first time since moving in, Sören went out by himself during the day. Dooku was tempted to peek at the canvas that was still on the easel, covered with a sheet, but he made himself refrain. He also spent time worrying about Sören - he was proud that Sören was finally taking the big step of going places alone in daytime, but also concerned Sören would run into Justin somewhere. Dooku went on a cleaning binge to burn off the worry, and at last Maglor sensed it, coming up behind Dooku and wrapping his arms around Dooku's waist as Dooku was scouring a sink.
"I worry about him too," Maglor said. "But he needs this. You and I both know he does. Justin made him so afraid that he's been living like a prisoner, not able to go out without supervision... he can't spend his life like that, regardless of..." And his voice trailed off, but Dooku knew what was at the end of it. Regardless of how long he ends up staying with us.
Dooku could feel that ache in Maglor too - he didn't want Sören to go, just yet.
Dooku heard footsteps approaching the door and the sound of wheezing, an hour before they needed to go to work. Dooku opened the door and saw Sören lugging a large frame - the right size for the canvas on the easel under the sheet - and from the looks of the frame it was heavy, carved wood, a rustic Celtic or Norse knotwork pattern. Sören also was carrying a large shopping bag, which he simply set down on a bin that held his belongings while Dooku held the frame, admiring it.
"That's for later," Sören said.
Sören was in a quiet, pensive mood on the way to the restaurant. Dooku finally asked him, "Did something happen while you were out?"
Sören shook his head. "No, everything was fine. It's just..." He looked out the window at the snow-covered trees rolling by, the frosty grey January sky broken up by snow-capped shop buildings. "I'm giving Mark the painting tonight and I'm worried he won't like it."
"I've known Mark for a long time now..." Dooku didn't want to be forthcoming about how long, since Maglor was - at least for now - claiming to be forty-two. "And he wouldn't say something he didn't mean. If he didn't truly want you to make a painting for him, he wouldn't have said so."
"Oh, I'm sure he appreciates original art. But..." Sören pursed his lips. "I don't know if mine is any good." Sören looked down. "I didn't have the best luck trying to sell my work, and Justin didn't think -"
"Justin thought Mark had no talent as a harpist and he thought my cooking was terrible. And he treated you badly, and you deserve so much better. As far as commercial success, that's not necessarily an indicator of talent, either. Plenty of the most well-loved painters lived in relative poverty, unknown until after their deaths. You deserve to be known here and now, of course, and the Internet hopefully would make that easier, but I don't-"
"All right." Sören cut him off.
Dooku sighed. "I'm just trying to be supportive."
Sören continued to brood through his shift - he mostly tried to hide it, but between orders Dooku saw the look on his face. He wanted so badly to take Sören in his arms, shake him and make him see that he was worth so much more than he thought he was, but he had to be professional, and he didn't want to scare the young man away, didn't want to give him the impression that -
That what? You want to shag him? Dooku scoffed at himself.
Dooku had been trying to ignore the attraction, thinking that first of all it was unlikely for the young man to be interested in someone his age, and second of all and more importantly, Sören had been in an abusive partnership, and needed to feel safe again. Dooku didn't want Sören to feel pressured or coerced into having sex with the men who had taken him in - that was the opposite of building trust and safety.
But even now, brooding in his white cook's uniform, curls under a net, Sören was beautiful. Even now, doing something simple like making a soup from scratch, Dooku could feel that creative fire, that no matter what Sören did, so long as he was making something, he put care into it. He took pride in his work, he wanted whatever it was he made to be "just right" to the person it was going to, Dooku could feel that.
The part of him that had been Fingolfin was taking notice as Sören stirred the pot, staring into it with intense concentration like Fëanor staring into glass in his forge.
It was suddenly very, very hot in the kitchen. Dooku stepped outside for a minute to get some air, letting the drifting snowflakes cool his face.
_
When they got home, Sören framed the painting while Dooku and Maglor waited in the studio. Then they came out and Dooku put on tea while Maglor and Sören waited; the back of the frame was facing them, with Sören not ready to show it yet.
Dooku came out with the tea service, and Sören used the Force to open up the shopping bag he'd brought home. Out came a blue-and-white striped box from Build A Bear. Maglor raised an eyebrow as the box settled onto his lap.
"I made you a painting," Sören said, "but I made you that, too."
Maglor opened the box, and out came a light purple unicorn with a pink horn, blue eyes, and a pink, blue, and yellow mane. The unicorn was dressed in a sparkly, iridescent gossamer pink and blue skirt, and had a jaunty rainbow scarf.
"You got me... a unicorn," Maglor said, his tone dry.
"Jæja." Sören blushed a little. "It's because you're so pretty and kind it's like you're not even real, like you're... a mythological being of some sort."
Maglor and Dooku exchanged glances. Oh, if only you knew...
"So..." Sören gestured to the unicorn. "I thought it was appropriate."
"You're ridiculous," Maglor said, patting him, "and lovely." He smiled. "Thank you. No one's ever gotten me a stuffed animal before."
"Really? Not even your parents, when you were small?" Sören made a moue. "If I was your dad I would have gotten you a nice bear to play with..."
Maglor made a noise into his tea, and then he said, "My upbringing was rather unusual." For starters, it was twenty thousand years ago before the concept of stuffed animals existed...
"Oh. OK." Sören grinned at Dooku. "Now Winston has a boyfriend."
Maglor laughed out loud at that, as Dooku facepalmed, also laughing. "Oh dear," Dooku said.
"It's a unicorn, not a deer," Sören teased.
Sparkle Bunny and Not Very Good At Names hopped up onto the coffee table from the top of the bin where they rested during the day, and Sparkle Bunny squeaked, "I wanna meet Winston!"
"Yes, go get Winston," Maglor said, and added privately across their Force bond, so I do not have to endure this ridiculousness all alone.
I think you secretly enjoy it, Dooku teased on the way to the bedroom, coming back with Winston in tow.
Sören used the Force to pour a cup of tea for Winston.
"Thank you," Dooku said in a gruff voice befitting a bear, then realized what he had done without thinking about it, and rolled his eyes while Maglor grinned.
"You make a cute couple," Sören said in a squeaky voice as Sparkle Bunny's head moved. Sparkle Bunny's head turned to Maglor. "Mark, does your friend have a name?"
"He does not," Maglor said.
"He needs a name," Sparkle Bunny insisted, and Not Very Good At Names nodded.
"Go on then," Sören said in his regular voice.
Maglor exhaled sharply. "Hells..."
"His name is Hells!" Sparkle Bunny squeaked. "Yayyyy, Not Very Good At Names won't be so alone in having a weird name!" Sören used the Force to make Sparkle Bunny clap her hands.
Maglor made a noise as Sören laughed, and Dooku chuckled. Maglor glared at Dooku. "Et tu?" Maglor raised an eyebrow.
Dooku's lips quirked with amusement. "I do not wish to get involved." Dooku sipped his tea.
"All right." Sören clapped his hands together and leaned forward. "Do you want to see your painting now?"
"Yes, please," Maglor said.
Sören waved his hand, and the frame lifted from the floor. It floated into the air, turned around in the air, and lowered into Maglor's waiting hands. Maglor's jaw dropped and his breath caught when the frame was in his hands and he got his first look. Dooku also opened his mouth, feeling almost as if his heart had stopped, like the entire world itself had stopped.
It was a painting of Dooku, but it had taken on a fantastical element. Dooku had never been to Iceland, but he recognized the Dimmuborgir from photographs, and here he was standing at the Dimmuborgir, snow on the ground, a wild sunset of red, orange and gold blazing in the sky, like the sky was on fire. The arch of the lava formation was glowing with eerie purple light, as if it was a portal of some kind. The landscape looked almost photorealistic, as did Dooku himself, painted with startling accuracy in his features, right down to the perpetually annoyed look on his face. In the painting he was clad in a fur-lined brown cape, whipping around him in the winds of winter. In one hand he held a curved-grip sword, a blazing star on the pommel, and the sword itself was glowing with blue light. In his other hand he bore a shield, blue, set with crystals in a star shape. There were no opponents around him - it looked like he might go through the portal to do battle.
Dooku remembered that sword and that shield... from when he was Fingolfin.
"My god," Dooku said.
"Sören." Maglor's voice was hushed with awe. "This is... amazing. Beyond words."
Dooku knew Sören had the Force, and sometimes that meant a deeper insight into people, places, and things, but this seemed to go above and beyond normal capabilities with the Force. The painting felt alive, as it spoke of a past Sören could not have known about, and bridged the past and present together. Dooku could almost feel himself in the painting, the sword in one hand, the shield in the other, the fury as he was about to ride off to war...
"You like it?" Sören's voice was almost a squeak.
Maglor put down the painting and gave Sören a tight hug. "It's magnificent. Truly. That went above and beyond anything I was expecting..."
Sören's eyes met Dooku's, and he swallowed hard. "You did an incredible job," Dooku said, feeling that those words still didn't do justice to the soul-burning vision of the painting. "I would love to see more of your work. In fact, I'd be honored to properly buy paintings from you to hang in the restaurant..."
"...And at The Wax Museum." Maglor nodded. He stroked his chin. "You think I could commission you to do Kurt Cobain?"
Dooku's eyes teared up a little at that. He hadn't been a fan of Nirvana but Maglor had been, and he still remembered vividly the reaction Maglor had to Kurt Cobain's suicide, another musician gone too soon, dead by their own hand, the creative fire burning too hot, too bright. I feel it in the Song whenever they die, Maglor had said - they were in Amsterdam then and Maglor planted tulips as a private memorial.
Maglor was thinking about those tulips now, thinking about what it felt like in the Song the day Cobain's music died. Dooku could feel it in their bond.
"You don't have to pay me," Sören said, shaking his head. "You guys are friends, you took me in..."
"Nonsense. If you do work - and painting is work - you should be paid for it," Dooku said.
"Do you..." Sören blinked, his eyes too bright. "Do you really want to commission me, and hang these up where people can see them? You don't just feel sorry for me?"
"Hells, Sören." Maglor glared. He used the Force to pick the painting back up. "This? This is on par with the old masters." He set it back down and folded his arms, looking almost offended that Sören was questioning him. "Nicolae can vouch for me here that I am a man of strong opinions. He deals with me every year when I watch Eurovision..."
Dooku laughed and nodded.
"...and I don't mince words. As fragile as you are right now, I wouldn't go out of my way to be rude to you if I didn't like the painting, but I also wouldn't be offering the sort of profuse praise that I'm expressing here. I already thought badly of Justin for destroying your art as any art to me is, well... sacred, I guess you could call it..." Maglor made a face, as that wasn't quite the word he wanted to use with its religious connotations, and there really was no better word for it. "But after having seen this? What he did to you was a crime, Sören."
"I agree," Dooku said.
"Takk," Sören said, choking up.
Maglor and Dooku got up and pulled him into a hug, and then Maglor used the Force to make Hells trot over, who headbutted Sören like a cat. "I liked your painting too," Hells squeaked.
"Maybe I'll paint a picture of Hells as a life-sized unicorn, flying in the clouds," Sören said, and then with a grin at Maglor he added, "And you riding him."
"NO."
Sören's laughter rang out, and Dooku's arms tightened around Sören. It was so, so good to hear him laugh, to see this side of him returning after Justin had worked so hard to stamp it out.
You're going to be OK, Sören. I swear it.
_
The next day Sören went out to buy more art supplies, coming back with more paints and a few more empty canvases. He painted in the evening after work but took a break to go on an evening stroll with Dooku.
"I still can't believe you like that painting," Sören said as they walked.
"I don't know why it's hard to believe. You have a gift." Dooku sighed. "I really do wish I'd gotten to see your earlier work. I bet it was remarkable."
Sören shrugged.
Dooku felt suddenly angry - not with Sören - and paused in his tracks, stopping in front of Sören, who was looking down, and looked up slowly as Dooku put his hands on Sören's shoulders.
"You have a gift," Dooku repeated, his tone firm and stern. "I'll not hear you say otherwise."
Sören sighed.
They continued walking, and when they got back home, Dooku made them hot chocolate. They relaxed with hot chocolate as they listened to Maglor play in the studio, who had already paid Sören half of the commission of Kurt Cobain, and was now playing Nirvana songs on harp to get Sören in the right frame of mind. Maglor singing "Come As You Are" at the end gave Sören visible chills - it brought tears to Dooku's eyes - and when the song was over Maglor took Sören's hands and said, simply, "We accept you as you are."
Sören hugged him, and they rocked together for a moment before Sören went down the hall to return to his painting.
He came so close to being another Kurt. Another one gone too soon, too sensitive, dead by his own hand. Maglor showed Dooku a vision of Sören's suicide attempt in 2004, across their Force bond. And I think it was only a matter of time before Justin killed...
A white-hot surge of anger. Dooku's fist clenched, and the empty mug shattered without him doing anything to it - just the fury in the Force.
"Ah shit," Dooku said, looking down at the floor.
"I'll clean it up." Maglor put a hand on his arm.
But Dooku wasn't worried about the mess so much as if Sören had felt any of that, not wanting to scare him, remembering the wreckage in Justin's flat and knowing that it was not the first time Sören had seen Justin destroy things in anger. He didn't want Sören to think he was just as bad, even if it was just a mug.
Dooku got up and looked down the hall to check. Sören had his headphones on and was completely absorbed in his painting. Thank God.
Dooku and Maglor went to bed at their usual time, and fell asleep after a slow, languid round of lovemaking. They slept nude, even though on a night like this in late January even with the heat on they needed extra blankets. In the middle of the night Dooku and Maglor were woken up by a scream down the hall, followed by Sören sobbing. They sat up, and though Maglor moved faster, Dooku was still out of bed and out of the bedroom faster, grabbing a robe with the Force and throwing it on at the last moment, almost running down the hall.
Because of the heat and Sören's natural body warmth, he had no shirt on - Dooku couldn't help but admire Sören's bare chest in the dim light from the kitchen nightlight, and felt immediately bad for ogling him when he was an emotional wreck, still crying.
"Sören, dear. What is it? What happened?"
"It was nothing." Sören sniffled. "Just a bad dream..."
Maglor was coming down the hall now too, in a pair of boxer-briefs and nothing else. Sören glanced over at him and Dooku saw Sören's face flush, and then Sören cried harder.
"He had a nightmare," Dooku explained.
"What about?" Maglor raised an eyebrow. "Sometimes it helps if you talk about these things..."
"Justin." Sören winced. "He... he was trying to kill me." Sören broke down crying again. "I know it was just a dream but it felt so real, and I'm still so scared..." Sören held out his hand, which was shaking.
Dooku took Sören's trembling hand and Maglor knelt down on the floor beside Sören, put his arms around the younger man. "Now you listen to me," Maglor said, meeting Sören's eyes. "We will never let him hurt you ever again."
"He is a part of the past, and as far as we're concerned, he's dead to you." Dooku nodded. He thought bitterly that he'd like to make that a reality, not just a figure of speech, that surge of fury like a reactor about to explode as he thought of the destroyed stuffed animals, the ruined paintings... "He's not a part of your future."
"I'm so fucking scared that when I eventually go back out there, on my own, he's gonna find me and kill me..." Sören sobbed.
"You can stay with us as long as you want," Maglor said.
"No, I can't." Sören sobbed harder.
"Yes, you can." Maglor let go of Sören then, and folded his arms. He looked up at Dooku. "That's it. Tomorrow we're moving my shit out of the studio and in here, and he's getting that as his bedroom. We'll get... I don't know, an air mattress or something till we work out a bed, and we'll talk about rent when it's not three-thirty in the morning."
"I'm so sorry for waking you up," Sören cried. "And I don't want to be a burden on you and cramp your life -"
"You're not. We like having you here." Dooku rubbed Sören's shoulder.
You realize we have to tell him about you eventually, if he's staying with us long-term, Dooku told Maglor across their Force bond.
Yes. But today is not that day. We can wait awhile. I don't know how long "awhile" is, but we need to work up to it not just for my sake, but for his. He's had enough of a shock to his sanity without, you know.
"You guys are so fucking kind to me. I'm not used to this." Sören wept some more.
"Well, you deserve it, so get used to it." Maglor hugged him again.
"I really didn't mean to wake you up -"
"You didn't ask to have a bloody nightmare, dear heart," Dooku told him, wanting to stab Justin Roberts in the eyes.
"You didn't ask to have PTSD," Maglor said. "But it's a thing, and... it's a thing I understand." Maglor reached out to stroke Sören's face with his scarred hand.
Sören lowered his head. "I'm sorry."
"Please, stop apologizing, Sören."
"I'm sorry -"
Not Very Good At Names hopped out and Dooku spoke in its deeper-than-deep voice. "Hi Sorry, I'm Not Very Good At Names."
Sören gave Dooku a look, then he busted out in a gigglefit, and Maglor laughed too. Dooku gave them a satisfied smile before using the Force to make Not Very Good At Names and Sparkle Bunny hop onto Sören to give him a hug.
Then Maglor got up, and reached to pull Sören off the bed, while Sören was still hugging his bunny dolls. Maglor had picked up Sören like he weighed nothing, and was now carrying Sören down the hall, with Dooku following behind.
"You might sleep better after the nightmare if you have a protective presence with you to help you feel safe," Maglor explained.
The look of trust in Sören's warm brown eyes as he was carried down the hall made Dooku's heart melt.
Once Maglor set Sören down in the middle of the bed, he used the Force to bring over Hells and Winston - Dooku smiled at how casual Maglor had gotten about Force use the last few days, wondering if having Sören around wasn't sort of healing for Maglor as well, necessarily hiding his abilities from Men. Then Dooku stopped smiling when he took off his robe and remembered he was naked. "Er. I should put pants on." He opened his underwear drawer, but since most of his underwear were of a darker color it was hard to see without turning on a light...
"Don't worry about it," Sören said. "It's already late and we need to get back to sleep and it's not like you've got anything I've never seen before."
With a sigh, his face burning, Dooku headed over to the bed. Maglor was on one side of Sören and Dooku climbed on the other; Dragos hopped on the bed with an inquisitive chirp and walked over to Sören, purring loudly.
"All right, the gang's all here." Dooku skritched Dragos and smiled as the cat settled down, kneading.
Sören closed his eyes and fidgeted a little, obviously not used to sharing a bed with two people. Maglor reached out and gently began to rub Sören's scalp, and Dooku watched as the tension began to roll off of Sören's body, breathing easier.
"Can you sing to me?" Sören asked. "Is that too much to ask...?"
"Not too much to ask at all." Maglor continued to rub Sören's scalp, then his back, as he sang:
There's a lady who's sure
All that glitters is gold
And she's buying a stairway to heaven
When she gets there she knows
If the stores are all closed
With a word she can get what she came for
Oh oh oh oh and she's buying a stairway to heaven
_
Dooku was up before the alarm went off, which wasn't unusual. He was in the spoon position, naked, which wasn't unusual, and woke up hard, which wasn't unusual. The feel of taut buttocks against his erection wasn't unusual.
Just before his lips could kiss a shoulder and his fingers could reach around to brush a nipple, he realized he didn't feel the flood of hair in its usual place, and he opened his eyes to see a pair of phoenixes - one fire, one water - and a nape-length mop of dark curls.
Mortified, Dooku rolled off him and stared up at the ceiling. He didn't want to trigger the poor man, make Sören feel like he owed them sex...
...Sören rolled over, eyes closed, still asleep. Beautifully asleep, long lashes framing his cheeks, full lips slightly parted. The creamy skin of his bare torso, the full sleeve tattoos on his arms, flames on one, ocean waves on the other... those pierced nipples...
...looking deliciously innocent, snuggled up with his bunnies, and Hells and Winston.
Dooku's mouth was dry. His erection throbbed urgently.
He got up and quickly ducked into the bathroom, and took a shower as cold as he could stand it. When he got out - a towel around his waist - Sören was starting to wake up, and so was Maglor; Maglor turned off the alarm.
"Good morning," Dooku said. "How did you sleep?"
"Better." Sören nodded. He looked at Maglor, then Dooku. "Thank you. That... that was nice. I haven't been cuddled in a long time."
"I'm sorry for the immodesty," Dooku said, using the Force to open his underwear drawer - now he had enough light to see, and select a pair.
"Hi Sorry For the Immodesty, I'm Sören."
Dooku gave him a look.
Sören grinned. Then Sören said, "You... don't need to be sorry. I like looking at pretty things." Which he said right as Dooku turned around and dropped the towel, exposing his ass.
Dooku blushed, his stomach fluttering... not wanting to get his hopes up.