January became February, and Maglor's musical equipment was moved from the second bedroom into the living room, with Sören getting a full-sized mattress and a few small pieces of furniture. Dooku and Maglor meant what they said about wanting Sören to stay with them as long as he wanted to, but they also could tell from Sören's hesitancy in buying more than a few simple items and anything decorative that he was still on the fence about staying long-term, which Dooku understood, though it bothered him in a way he couldn't quite articulate.
It also bothered Dooku that he kept waking up in the middle of the night feeling like the bed felt emptier without Sören in it. Sören hadn't slept in their bed since the nightmare, and before this had happened Maglor was enough, good to cuddle up with. More and more, Dooku was aching to hold both of them at night, but he refrained from saying so, not wanting to scare the young man... not wanting to be rejected.
The first week of February saw a massive snowstorm and bitterly cold temperatures, though the restaurant remained open and still had a healthy influx of customers, people wanting something hearty and comforting. On a big grocery trip to stock up on food for home and not have to run to the store so much in inclement weather, Dooku felt it would be nice to get some fresh fruit, even though it cost more at this time of year, and Sören was delighted when Dooku made ambrosia with oranges, pineapple, banana, strawberries, mixed nuts, coconut flakes and whipped cream.
"This is such a treat," Sören said. "Believe it or not, I like fresh fruit and cream better than I like cake or other pastries."
"Well, you were in med school, yes?" Dooku asked, taking pleasure in Sören's own enjoyment of the dessert - he found it adorable that simple things made the young man so happy.
"I was, and I suppose that makes me a bit health-conscious but that's not really why. I grew up kind of poor - Katrín and Einar drank most of their money away - and then when I moved here and was living with Frankie, well." Sören licked his spoon. "Fresh fruit is a luxury to me."
Dooku felt that twinge of sadness, wishing he could go back in time and fix everything for him. His cock also twinged as he watched Sören lick the cream from the spoon, his mind going in the gutter. "So long as you're living here, you'll never want for anything."
Sören patted him, and smiled sweetly. "I appreciate that. I appreciate you." Then he glanced over at the fruit bowl, since there were oranges and bananas just to snack on. "I'm in the mood for more banana, I haven't had banana in so long. Can I take one...?"
"Please, by all means."
Dooku immediately regretted inviting Sören to take a banana when he unpeeled it and Dooku watched those full lips wrap around the banana in his mouth. His cock twinged even more, mind racing with thoughts of what Sören's lips would look like wrapped around his cock... or wrapped around Maglor's cock...
"MMMMMMM," Sören moaned, a dreamy expression on his face. "God, this is so good." And the banana was in his mouth again.
Maglor looked down, blushing, and Dooku could feel across their bond that Maglor was having the exact same thoughts. When Maglor looked up to drink his orange juice, his gaze went back to Sören with the banana in his mouth, seemingly oblivious to the effect he was having on the two men, and then Maglor's eyes met Dooku's and Dooku gave him a knowing look.
Later that night, as Dooku and Maglor held each other, legs entwined, after their usual lovemaking, Dooku stroked Maglor's hair and said softly, "It's OK, you know."
"Hm?"
"I know you fancy him." Dooku chuckled. "I do too."
Maglor sighed. "I'm glad you're not offended."
"No. And it isn't like we hadn't talked about finding a third to share, a long time ago."
"But this is... well, it's complicated."
"It is." Dooku nodded. "I'm not sure what, if anything, I'm going to do about these feelings."
"I'm not either, though I wonder if he knew what he was doing earlier with. You know." Dooku saw Maglor smile in the dark. "The banana."
Dooku laughed, his face burning as he remembered the way Sören looked with the banana in his mouth - his cock would be stirring again if he wasn't spent. "I don't know... would he be that much of a tease?"
_
Sören finished Maglor's commission of Kurt Cobain, and Maglor insisted on paying him extra beyond what they'd originally agreed upon for the cost.
There was a bird's eye view of Seattle, fog and rain over the city, and Kurt Cobain ascended as a weeping angel, energy swirling around him... holding a heart-shaped planter (for the "heart shaped box") that was growing a few brightly colored tulips. Maglor had not told Sören that he had planted tulips in their small garden in Amsterdam as a memorial, and his jaw once again dropped when he saw the completed painting... when he felt the power in Sören's art.
Maglor took Sören with him to pick out a frame, and do the honors of helping him pick a spot and hang the painting at The Wax Museum. Sören had previously been reluctant to go there because of the memories of going there with Frankie before the accident, but he conceded. The trip to The Wax Museum was enough of a reminder of his friend that Sören called Belfast when he got home, speaking for awhile to Frankie's aunt Siobhan who had been taking care of her through the recovery, and then to Frankie herself. The phone call made Sören emotional - he tried to pull himself together on the ride to work, but Frankie continuing to get better and Maglor's intense reaction to the painting was having enough of an effect on him that it was more difficult than usual to regulate his emotions.
Dooku thought fast, and took a detour, hoping it wouldn't make him late. He ran inside a grocer while Sören waited in the car and came back with a small carton of strawberries.
Sören nibbled on a couple on the way to work, which calmed him down, and finished the rest on his break. When his break was done, and he saw Dooku working on papanași - which he usually made with raspberries or cherries depending on the order - Sören said, "Hey, you know, you should offer an option of papanași with strawberries, on the menu. I bet it would be a hit."
Natalia paused for just a brief moment, as did Willard, and some of the other cooks. Willard raised an eyebrow. Everyone was of the understanding when they were hired at Doi Capaci that things were done a certain way, Dooku adhered to specific recipes and that was how it was. Nobody had the audacity to suggest changes to recipes or additions to the menu.
Until now.
"Get back to work," Dooku told everyone who had stopped, staring, and then he said to Sören, "That means you too."
In the car on the way back, Dooku said, "Never do that again."
"Do what?" Sören gave him a filthy look. "It was just a suggestion..."
"It was bad form to make a suggestion in front of the kitchen staff, because nobody else does it - if I let everyone make suggestions about the menu it would devolve into anarchy very quickly."
"I didn't know that. And I'll keep it in mind for the future. But you know... other restaurants add new things to the menu sometimes. I don't see how adding an option for strawberry papanași is such a big deal."
"The more variations that are offered on one dish, the more we have to keep different items on hand that may not get used that day, and that becomes more of an expense than you might realize over time. No, it's not an expense that would cause the business to collapse, but I try to be smart about the money that goes into the restaurant."
"I think strawberry papanași might be popular enough to justify the expense."
Dooku raised an eyebrow. "This isn't... really... about the dessert anymore, is it? This is about you trying to assert yourself."
"I suppose it is." Sören nodded. "I was a doormat with Justin for over a year, and the worst of it over the last few months when I lived with him. I was afraid to even have an opinion, never mind express one. So I guess that I finally felt like I could say something..."
"Well, I'm proud of you, then." Dooku gave him a look that was both stern and affectionate. "Just be mindful of the authority in the kitchen, which is set up the way it is for a reason."
"Yes, sir," Sören said, his tone somewhat mocking, his eyes mischievous.
Dooku decided when he got home to add strawberries to the next shipment of food that was coming in to the restaurant, and make the concession to Sören just on the basis of him learning to be assertive again. And two days later, when food was delivered and Sören saw a crate of strawberries brought in, their eyes met, and held.
Sören was right that the addition to the menu was a success - on the first day of being on the menu more people were ordering dessert with their meals, wanting to try it. When Sören went on break, Dooku also took his break then, and he had a little treat for the young man, having made an extra strawberry papanași, with a few fresh strawberries and a dollop of whipped cream on the side of the plate.
They sat outside, even with the chill of the February night - it was peaceful out in back of the restaurant, and they had both been overheated from the kitchen. "This is so good," Sören said between bites of the dessert. "I'm so glad you listened to my suggestion."
Dooku smiled, and stole one of the strawberries from Sören's plate, nibbling on it.
"The fresh ones were a nice touch, too, though I feel like I'm about to burst." Sören patted his stomach.
Then Sören picked up a strawberry and offered it to Dooku. "Those were for you," Dooku said.
"Which is why you took one."
"Just one."
"Have another." Sören raised his eyebrows.
"Oh, all -"
Before he could say "right", Sören shoved the strawberry in his mouth, and the tip of his finger got in there as well. When Sören's finger pulled back it lingered near Dooku's lips, and Sören traced the path of strawberry juice that was trickling down, wiping it with his fingers, the touch like a caress, sending a frisson down Dooku's spine.
"I'm seriously going to burst," Sören said, looking down at the last strawberry on the plate.
"Hi, Seriously Going To Burst," Dooku quipped, which got Sören elbowing him, and then without thinking about it Dooku picked up the strawberry, dipped it in the last of the whipped cream - some cream getting on his fingers - and held the berry to Sören's lips.
Sören's eyes locked with his as his full lips wrapped around the strawberry, and then Sören sucked the cream and berry juices from Dooku's fingers as well, still looking into his eyes.
You little minx. Dooku's cock woke up, but Sören was shielded tightly enough that he couldn't tell if it was innocent or teasing. All he knew was that he wanted to take Sören's face in his hands and kiss him, and before he could wrestle with himself about acting on that thought or shoving it away, the alarm on his cell phone went off, alerting him that break time was over.
Sören was quiet on the way home, looking out the window, and then he wanted to paint for awhile. Dooku went on his usual nightly walk by himself, wondering about the scene outside the back of the restaurant, and what it meant, if anything. He felt more awkward than he'd felt in years, and concerned that one false move would push Sören away, out into the street, out to be hurt again, somehow.
He considered talking to Sören about it, but when he got back, Sören was in the shower, and Maglor was wanting his company. Dooku took it as a sign that it wasn't the right time.
Yet.
As he and Maglor made love, he wondered if it ever would be the right time.
_
Valentine's Day arrived, and Doi Capaci expected enough business that all the cooks were scheduled. Sören was amazed that Dooku was working instead of taking Maglor on a date, but Maglor had known the drill as long as Dooku had been in the restaurant business, and didn't mind - Dooku of course couldn't tell Sören that it was less bothersome to Maglor than it might be to others because Maglor was not exactly a product of the modern era and had lived through more years when February 14th was not recognized as particularly special, than years where it was.
In any case, Maglor was around, playing harp and singing for the restaurant's customers, and he and Dooku shared champagne on Dooku's break. Maglor was in a good mood, with one of the loves of his life nearby, and surrounded by couples and the occasional poly unit who were happy and in love, as well as friends taking each other out and the odd single person who wanted to love themselves and treat themselves to something nice for the day. The energy of love flowed through his music, and Dooku smiled when he caught strains of it in the back of the restaurant, in the hot, busy kitchen. The energy in Maglor's songs seemed to offset much of the stress from the kitchen being more rushed than usual.
Sören seemed a little sad, and Dooku picked up in the Force that he was reminded of Justin, and thinking about an uncertain future. Yet, Sören was trying to keep his spirits up, smiling at Dooku whenever their eyes met. Dooku once again got the urge to take Sören in his arms and assure him everything would be all right.
The waitstaff relayed many compliments to the kitchen, and then, an hour before close, the maître d' came to the back himself. Dooku raised an eyebrow.
"Sir," the maître d' said, "there's someone who has a complaint and he's insisting to speak to you, directly. He won't take no for an answer."
Dooku grumbled. On the one hand he was tempted to tell the maître d' to tell the complainee to piss off and leave, since he didn't have time or patience for this today, on the other hand he'd watched other restaurateurs ignore direct complaints to their peril - someone who didn't get it out of their system with a chat with the chef would often take to Yelp or another review site and write something scathing. And Dooku took constructive criticism seriously; if someone was dissatisfied with the food, he wanted to know why, and what he could do to make it better next time.
"All right," Dooku said. "Escort him to the break room and I'll meet with him there."
A few minutes later Dooku made his way to the break room, which was usually reserved for employees only, and sitting there was none other than Justin Roberts.
"Well, well." Dooku stood while Justin sat. He folded his arms. "To what do I owe this pleasure. You're not actually here to complain about the food, I take it."
"I'll cut right to the chase," Justin said. "I know you know where Sören is."
"That's a rather bold assumption of you."
"Oh come off it. You 'rescued' him." Justin's fingers made air quotes. "And I saw the way you two were flirting with each other when he brought me here. Here of all places. Like the filthy slut wasn't with you all along -"
"Until you get some manners, I have nothing to say to you," Dooku said, starting to walk away, because that was the safest course of action rather than Force throwing Justin from his seat, through a wall, with hopes that the impact would fracture the man's skull. "And where Sören is or is not, is neither your business nor any of your concern."
"If you think I'm going to let this go without a fight, you're a bloody moron."
Dooku whirled around and slammed his hands down on the break table, leaning in like he was about to lunge. "Do you remember the last time you encountered me? If you think you can take me on, then you're a bloody moron." Dooku smiled then - it was not a pleasant smile, but a predatory smile. "I invite you to try me. It might be interesting for thirty seconds... before I wipe the floor with you." The fearsome look came back - Dooku could feel himself scowling - and Dooku pointed to the door. "Go, before you end up getting hurt and make a mess all over my nice clean restaurant."
"Oh, he's already dirtying it up just with his presence," came a familiar smoky voice, with the gentle lilting accent.
Dooku looked over his shoulder and Sören was walking in... in his white cook's uniform, hair under a net, which of course would let Justin know he worked here now.
"Sören?" Dooku raised an eyebrow. "You're still on the clock..."
"Jæja, I told Natalia I needed to go to the bathroom. Because, you know, I felt a disturbance and wanted to check it out." Sören looked at Justin then and shook his head. "Why do you even bother?"
Justin glared at Sören, an insane look in his blue eyes. "Right, so, you're done here, and you're coming home with me." He reached out to grab Sören's wrist, and before Dooku could yank Justin's arm away, Sören slapped Justin's hand, and spat.
"It's over between us, Justin. You do realize that, don't you, considering we haven't lived together in over a month?" Sören made a face of disgust. "How pathetic do you have to be, coming here on Valentine's Day all alone to try to get information to stalk me..."
"I beg your fucking pardon," Justin said.
"Jæja, you heard me. You're pathetic," Sören said. "And you're delusional, to think I'd be coming back to you. That I would still want you, after everything you've done."
"You still wanted me before."
"That wasn't really want. I wasn't in a good place, and you made it a worse place. I'm in a better place now, I know what I want... and it isn't you."
And then, much to his shock, Sören put an arm around Dooku. I'm trying to get him to go away without the police, just play the part, Sören spoke into his mind, and Sören's free hand came up to stroke Dooku's face, tilt it towards his. "This is what I want," Sören husked, looking into Dooku's eyes with such love and passion that if Sören was acting, he deserved an award. Sören turned his face back to Justin, smiling with mocking contempt. "You know how I like older men? And how much you haaaaaaaaated it when you'd see me noticing a hot silver fox? Well guess what, honey." Sören turned his face back to Dooku, whose mouth was open in surprise. "This is my daddy now."
With that, Sören threw his arms around Dooku and kissed him hard.
Dooku found himself crushing Sören against him, lips parting, moaning involuntarily as their tongues met and slid together. Heat surged through his entire body, cock stirring as he felt Sören's lithe frame against his, got to taste those full lips, tongues rubbing as Sören's hands roamed over him. The kiss deepened, Sören groaning, and there was the sound of the chair and Justin storming out, swearing.
They pulled apart, and Dooku looked at Sören, his face flushed, pupils blown wide, breathing hard.
"If he keeps this up we need to go to the police and get an injunction," Dooku said. "I'd tell you to press charges of harassment to get a proper restraining order but -"
"-That's easier said than done and requires evidence I don't have, since I deleted his voice mails and I don't have photographs of... the disaster... and never went to hospital when..." Sören's voice trailed off.
"But an injunction... we have witnesses of him showing up here, if he does it again." Dooku folded his arms. "Hopefully he'll take the hint and piss off." He raised an eyebrow at Sören. "That was... quite a hint."
"Jæja." Sören looked down, blush deepening. "You were... quite an actor. That was quite a performance."
Before Dooku could tell him I wasn't acting, Sören turned on his heel, and when Dooku walked back into the kitchen, Sören was scrubbing in to return to work.
The restaurant closed awhile later, and the cooks and washers remained to get the kitchen cleaned up and do what prep needed to be done to start tomorrow. Dooku tried to forget about the kiss and focus on the work at hand, but he couldn't stop looking at Sören, feeling that same surge of heat, not able to string two thoughts together that didn't involve the young man howling with pleasure in his arms.
Calling him Daddy. It wasn't something Dooku ever thought he'd be into, and yet, when Sören had said "this is my daddy now" it thrilled him. He had the faint glimmer of memory - the days of Fëanor and Fingolfin, when Fëanor called him "Ada" during their sex play; despite being the younger sibling, Fingolfin took care of Fëanor, who often stayed up too long and needed to be made to eat when he worked in the forge, and Fëanor had been the unfavorite of their father - Fingolfin gave him the attention and affection he needed, they made a game of it, which added spice to what was already the kinky thrill of their forbidden passion.
Dooku closed his eyes and he thought of Sören's art. His pride. The phoenixes on his back. The misfortune of his life, as if he were being punished by some sort of higher power. Like Manwë.
Gooseflesh broke out on Dooku's arms as he and Sören were the last to leave, joining Maglor who was sitting alone in the restaurant, watching the waterfall and the glow of the lanterns. Have we found Fëanor? Is this just wishful thinking...?
"I need to be alone for awhile," Sören said when they got home, and then he looked at Dooku and Maglor with a little smirk and said, "and you two ought to have some time alone with what's left of Valentine's Day." With that, he retreated to his room and closed the door.
Dooku got out of his chef uniform and stepped into the shower; a few minutes later Maglor joined him, not wanting to wait. Dooku laughed softly as Maglor closed the sliding glass door of the shower behind him, and stopped laughing when Maglor put his arms around Dooku and kissed him deeply.
When they pulled back and Maglor soaped his hands and began to lather Dooku's chest, Dooku informed him, "Justin was at the restaurant -"
"I know. I saw." Maglor paused and glared, his eyes molten. "I felt."
"Yes."
Maglor resumed lathering, hands caressing slowly; Dooku groaned with appreciation, hard cock pressing against Maglor's thigh. "I thought about going after him, but I had a feeling it might cause some trouble," Maglor said.
"That was prudent. And likely, very difficult for you." Dooku understood the Fëanorion temper very well - it was something everyone in the House of Finwë had a touch of, himself included.
"Extremely." Maglor grit his teeth and Dooku's cock throbbed at the fire in Maglor's eyes, the mental image of what that Fëanorion temper would have looked like unleashed upon Justin. Glorious, magnificent in his rage. Dooku shivered even though the water was hot enough to make steam.
"And I imagine it was difficult for you as well," Maglor continued, his voice husky, his fingers lingering on a nipple and rubbing in lazy circles. "I didn't just feel the evil of that man's presence, but I felt your rage. ...And Sören's."
"Sören stood up to him."
"I can tell."
Dooku thought about telling Maglor about the kiss - and how he felt at a crossroads now, not sure where to go from here - but before he could say anything Maglor pushed him up against the shower wall, lathering their cocks together, kissing him hungrily. "I wish I could have seen it," Maglor said. "I do so... enjoy... seeing you ready to fight."
Dooku kissed him back, hand covering Maglor's hand on their cocks.
They took their time in the shower, lathering and shampooing each other - Dooku loved playing with Maglor's hair - and once they were out of the shower, kissing all the way to the bed, the languid sensuality gave way to fever, the two needing to become one, needing to join, needing to mate. Dooku reached for their lube with the Force, fingers of one hand playing inside Maglor's opening, and Maglor slicked Dooku's cock as Dooku poured the lube into him, erring on the side of more lubricant than usual.
He rolled Maglor onto his stomach and bit his shoulder as he took him from behind - a position that was rare for them, but tonight they were both feeling wild, primal lust. Kissing and licking and nibbling Maglor's neck, every so often turning Maglor's face so they could kiss, Dooku drove into him, and Maglor rocked his hips back at Dooku, grabbing the pillows white-knuckled, not even bothering to keep the noise down for Sören's sake. Knowing Maglor wanted this just as much as he did, was in heat for it, fueled his passion hotter, burning so strong that when they climaxed together it still wasn't enough. He needed.
And Maglor was more than willing to give, rolling onto his back and spreading for Dooku to take him a second time. Dooku pounded him just as hard as before, on his knees, Maglor's legs on his shoulders, Maglor's hands wandering over him, caressing him, electrifying his body with every touch. The moans Maglor made as Dooku thrust into him were delicious, and just as delicious was the sight of his Elf with the mane of ebony hair disheveled and fanned out, lips swollen from being kissed, nipples swollen from being played with, hard cock flushed and dripping precum. The look of lust in Maglor's silver eyes consumed him, made him feel like he was being immolated, eaten alive.
Only one other person had ever made him feel that way, ages ago - a person who Maglor was the very image of. As Maglor spilled his seed over him and Dooku spent deep inside him, he almost shouted the name. Fëanor!