Following their mutual love confession, Nicholas and Sören spent an increasing amount of time together through the month of December - not just weekends, but sometimes one or two nights during the week as well. After a Christmas Eve celebration with Victor and Yeyette, Nicholas took Sören up to Québec through New Year's, spending time in Montreal and Quebec City as well as Nicholas's old hometown of Gaspé, in the northeast part of the province. Sören was charmed by the beaches and mountain views and all of the forested areas, a winter wonderland.
It was during their time in Gaspé, walking through the snow at sunset, and then watching an aurora a few hours later before returning to their cozy cabin to make languid, sensual love and snuggle, that Nicholas began to entertain the idea of Sören coming to live with him. Since Sören was a remote worker who kept flexible hours, Nicholas didn't have to worry about schedule conflicts with his own routine, and despite their age difference and things lost in the generation gap - Sören never knew a world without the Internet, and though he'd experienced transphobia, including from his own family, he'd grown up in a much safer world for LGBT people, while Nicholas had spent many painful years not even knowing a word existed for what he was, and a path to becoming his true self - Nicholas still enjoyed the younger man's company. Sören made him smile and laugh, and had a zest for experiencing life that made Nicholas feel more energetic. And the tragedies of Sören's life had made him wise beyond his years - they sometimes had quite deep, profound conversations, far better than Nicholas would have expected from the Tiktok generation.
Though Nicholas enjoyed the idea of eventually living with Sören, building a life with him, he cautioned himself to hold back on the invitation until after Sören's doctor appointment in early January, when Sören would hopefully be prescribed medication for anxiety. Nicholas wanted Sören to be able to answer yes or no truthfully without feeling pressured by irrational worries and doubts. So as much as the waiting game was excruciating - each day from New Year's Day when they returned to Boston, till Sören's appointment on the eighth dragged, feeling like an eternity; Nicholas privately mused that the seven days of creation in Genesis probably felt shorter than this.
But at last the day came; Nicholas took a half-day and accompanied Sören in the afternoon to his appointment. He stayed in the waiting room, reading an archaeology magazine, while Sören went to the back to speak with the doctor. After over an hour and a half, Sören came out looking a little uncomfortable, but his face quickly lit up when Nicholas gave him a reassuring smile.
"How did it go?" Nicholas asked.
"Good, I think. My vitals look fine, and I got a prescription for something called buspirone, which Dr. Alexander is calling into the pharmacy right now."
"We can stop at the pharmacy on the way home," Nicholas said. Then he quickly added, "Unless you'd rather go back to your apartment -" He didn't want Sören to feel forced to spend another night there.
Sören just smiled and patted him. "I'm OK spending the night, I just need to do some laundry."
At the pharmacy, Sören got a bottle of Gatorade to take his first dose right away in the car in the parking lot - he was prescribed a small dose twice a day during the day, and in a month Sören would return to determine whether that was sufficient or if the dose needed to be adjusted. Nicholas gathered the medication was relatively fast-acting, based on the way Sören relaxed and zoned out a bit on the ride home. Sören seemed noticeably more mellow as the day wore on, fidgeting less, but without seeming out of it under sedation.
Sören also didn't seem to have any sexual side effects - after they went for an evening walk through the park, got in their pajamas and cuddled on the couch watching TV, Sören began to rub Nicholas's thigh and nuzzle his neck. "Hi, Daddy," Sören whispered, before kissing Nicholas's neck.
Nicholas groaned, feeling that familiar ache for his lover's touch. He turned his head and they kissed. For a moment Nicholas stroked Sören's cheek, then his curls, looking into those sweet brown eyes, now peaceful and less sad than they had been a day ago. "You were a good boy today."
"I like being your good boy, Daddy."
Nicholas kissed the tip of Sören's nose. "Not just for Daddy, but taking care of yourself is very important." Nicholas sighed deeply, thinking of what he knew of Sören's life, all the abuse and trauma that still had not quenched the bright flame of his spirit. "You deserve to feel better."
Sören bit his lower lip. "I think I know what would make me feel good, Daddy."
Nicholas chuckled and shook his head with an exaggerated eyeroll. "As you know, you have a one-track mind."
"Sometimes it's eight-track. I'm retro." Sören gave fingerguns.
"Mon cher, you were not even alive in the heyday of eight-track tapes." Nicholas got up from the couch, took Sören's hand, and pulled him up, gave his ass a firm swat, and then led the way to the bedroom. "Here, you naughty thing."
Sören started undressing right in the hallway, not even waiting for the bedroom, making Nicholas laugh harder.
Sören then charged on ahead of Nicholas, getting in front of him, turned around and walked backward towards the bed, kissing Nicholas passionately, unbuttoning Nicholas's pajama top, running his fingers through Nicholas's chest hair and rubbing his nipples to hardness, yanking down his pajama bottoms and reaching between Nicholas's legs, stroking his clit. When they arrived at the bed, Sören paused and gave Nicholas a sultry look. "I think I should get a lollipop for being a good boy at the doctor today," Sören husked.
Nicholas smiled; his clit stiffened even more at the thought of those lush lips sucking on it. "I agree."
The expression on Sören's face went from smouldering to adorable as he tilted his head to one side and bit his lower lip. "I. Ah."
"Yes, little one?"
Sören cleared his throat. "I have something in my bag. I was going to ask you over the weekend if you wanted to try it, but I was too nervous."
Nicholas wasn't really interested in using a strap-on - while transition had mostly alleviated his dysphoria, wearing a fake penis felt like a slap in the face, a mocking reminder that he was not the same as cis men. He was willing to try it at least once for Sören, if he really wanted it, but he remembered Sören saying he was averse to penetration after what happened with his uncle. So before reacting to what Sören was offering, he waited, following Sören over to his duffel bag.
Sören pulled out what looked like a small suction pump. "When I'm alone and I take care of myself, sometimes I use this and it makes my bottom growth, ah... bigger and harder. What you've got is very nice, and I won't be mad if you say no, but -"
Nicholas laughed with relief and delight. The idea of working with what he already had and enhancing it was much more appealing than wearing a fake penis. And the thought of Sören making his own bottom growth swell... Nicholas shuddered, his cunt twinging. He took the pump from Sören and gave him a kiss, then climbed onto the bed and patted the space beside him.
They resumed kissing, and Sören continued playing with Nicholas's clit, making him all the more slick and hard. When Nicholas was ready he lay back and Sören applied the pump, suctioning until Nicholas was almost painfully hard. After Sören pulled the pump back, Nicholas looked down - it seemed that he'd grown almost an inch, standing at attention. Sören smiled at it and licked his lips.
"That's a nice lollipop, Daddy," Sören said, and dove in.
Nicholas arched to him, moaning, trembling, breath ragged as he clutched Sören's head. Nicholas was exquisitely sensitized, and Sören's lips felt more delicious than ever, sucking on him, layers of sensation building higher and deeper until all that existed was the most lavish pleasure he'd ever known. The heat in Sören's eyes, and watching Sören's right shoulder moving - knowing Sören was so turned on he was touching himself - made it even more enjoyable, never wanting his lover to stop.
Soon Nicholas was rocking his hips, fucking Sören's mouth, hearing himself pleading in French, wanting to come, but wanting Sören to keep going, keep sucking. Sören moaned with his mouth full, sucking harder, and Nicholas climbed to that edge, ready to shatter, hanging on just a little longer to make it last, until it was too good and Nicholas broke, hearing himself cry out as he climaxed. He watched his clit twitching, streamers clinging to Sören's lips and beard. Sören grinned at him and took a few last slow licks, lapping up more cream, intensifying the throbbing orgasm.
Sören came up to kiss him and Nicholas lay there dazed, the room spinning, his toes curling involuntarily. He felt like a blob of jelly, his entire body radiating with joyful light. He found himself laughing at nothing, smiling so hard his face hurt. "Mon D.eu."
Sören giggled and rained kisses over his face. "That was fun, Daddy."
"Mmmmm, yes." Nicholas rubbed noses with him.
Usually after such a powerful orgasm Nicholas would be spent, but it seemed the pump didn't just make him bigger, he was also still hard and ready for more. Sören was also plenty ready - Nicholas gently caressed and massaged Sören's clit, then after a few minutes his fingers dipped inside and the feel of Sören's hot juices almost made him come again untouched. His own clit twitched, and suddenly his brain made the connection... his clit was almost the size of a finger...
As if Sören could read his mind, the younger man spread to him, giving him a good look at his dripping, creamy cunt. "I want you inside me," Sören whispered. He reached out to tease Nicholas's clit with a delicate brush of his finger. "You. Not a toy. Just you."
"Oh, love." Nicholas felt that fierce, tight ache in his chest, even as he felt ready to explode with hot sexual need. Their mouths crushed together and Nicholas climbed over him. But before he plunged inside he took a moment, their foreheads pressed together, looking into each other's eyes, and Nicholas stroked Sören's cheek. "I love you." He had no words to describe how precious it was to be given this gift of surrender and trust, other than that.
But it was enough. Sören reached up to him, pulling him down into a deeper kiss, and when they pulled back, breathless, Sören's hands slid down to Nicholas's hips. "Take me," Sören begged, his voice shaking. "Taktu mig, ástin mín."
Nicholas knelt between Sören's legs and propped them up a little. He moved forward and tilted his hips, and watched as his clit pushed into Sören's cunt. Sören cried out and Nicholas groaned as Sören's hot, slick inner walls wrapped around him. "Yes, Daddy," Sören moaned, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets. "Fuck me, Daddy..."
Nicholas began to thrust. It was the most euphoric experience of his life, being inside another man, another gay man, good enough, man enough as he was. His clit felt like a cock now, raging with lust, fully realized in his manhood. And there was nothing more delicious than feeling the wet silk of Sören kissing his cock again and again, fitting around him so perfectly. Nothing more delicious than Sören going mad with lust, pawing himself frantically, electrified by being taken and fucked by his cock. "Oh Daddy, your cock feels so good," Sören purred. "So big..."
Nicholas growled and rocked his hips harder, faster. The wet slurping, smacking noises competed with Sören's broken cries and his own deep grunts of frenzied, animalistic pleasure. He gave himself into the fuck, plunging into the wet velvet heat over and over, watching Sören in the throes of passion... feeling so intimate joined like this, one flesh...
...one need. As Nicholas got closer, Sören did too, whimpering, his hand a blur as he tugged on his clit like it was a cock. When Nicholas felt himself approach that point of no return, he reached down, his hand on Sören's hand, guiding it, commanding it. "Come for Daddy," Nicholas ground out. "Come on Daddy's cock, boy. Show Daddy what a good boy you are and come with -"
"DADDY! PABBI!" Sören threw his head back as his body thrashed about and his clit pulsated. Sören's tight cunt gripped his cock, squeezing with each contraction, and Nicholas lost control, giving a mighty roar as he entered the most intense orgasm of his life, sinking down atop Sören, breath in shaky gasps, seemingly endless contractions of pure bliss rising up from his cunt through his spine, something like fireworks and bells going off in his mind.
"Holy. Fucking. Shit." Sören laughed and cried.
Nicholas laughed too. He couldn't make words, and when the words came, they were in French. He gave it some time until his English was back. "Thank you."
"Thank you." Sören beamed. "Fuck, that was fucking hot."
"Sometime I would like to see you use the pump," Nicholas said - the thought of Sören's bottom growth growing threatened to make him randy again, but he quickly sank back into deep, deep contentment, hovering on the edge of dozing.
"I think it's safe to say we can use that on each other anytime you want."
They tangled up together, and Nicholas gave Sören a squeeze. "You have made this old man very, very happy."
"Good." Sören patted his back, then began gently rubbing it. "I know you tell me I deserve to be happy and feel good, but so do you. I want to make you happy too."
"I feel the best I've ever felt in my life." Nicholas thought then about broaching the subject of Sören moving in with him, but his mind was too fuzzy. He told himself he'd give it a few days, and let himself keep winding down, mind emptying into sleep.
By Wednesday night, Nicholas felt the worst he'd felt in his life.
Sören went back to his apartment on Tuesday, and was scheduled to come over on Thursday to begin a long weekend. On Wednesday morning Nicholas woke with a mild headache and joint pain, which at first he chalked up to being normal "under the weather" symptoms at his age, but as the day wore on he had a cough and felt too warm. Once he came back from the university, he took his temperature and saw it was somewhat elevated. By the evening he only managed to feed Tacitus and could barely eat himself, calling it an early night. He spent the night tossing and turning, too hot and too cold.
Thursday morning Sören called, and Nicholas explained in a raspy voice that he seemed to have the flu and was calling out of work and didn't feel well enough to drive. Sören still wanted to come over, insisting on nursing him through it, and though Nicholas felt somewhat guilty about it - especially with Sören offering to take a cab or a bus to come over - he wasn't going to say no.
The second day and third day were even worse than the first, with Nicholas running a higher fever than Wednesday and having intense, disturbing dreams - he was in a younger, stronger body with long, flowing black hair, a form that reminded him of the Elves in Lord of the Rings but more muscular and powerful, and for most of the dreams he was wandering a barren winter wasteland, hungry and cold, fearing there was no end in sight. At one point there were ships burning on a frozen river, and it was Sören who burned them, madness in his eyes. The most frightening dream of all was when he was armed with a glowing-ice sword and a crystal-studded shield while standing in single combat against a monstrous giant wearing an iron crown who wielded a hammer as large as himself, and though he was able to lame the giant's leg with his sword, he still fell to his death under the hammer, crying out for Sören. This time his body ached like he had been crushed in real life.
Every time Nicholas woke up - hearing himself screaming, albeit weakly - Sören was there, whether to take his temperature with an infrared thermometer, offer him a cool compress or a cup of water or Gatorade with some over-the-counter cold and flu medicine, and at one point Sören had him sit up and eat some homemade chicken soup, though Nicholas had no appetite, despite the chicken soup smelling delicious. Once, Sören had Nicholas take a home COVID test, which was negative. Occasionally Nicholas heard Sören talking on the phone, which he presumed was to Yeyette - not just Sören's best friend but also a doctor - and one time Sören came in while on the phone, watching him and reporting how he was doing.
By Saturday the fever broke but Nicholas felt like all the life had been drained out of him. It was like running a marathon just to get to and from the bathroom. He had been sweating so much the sheets were soaked, and in the afternoon Sören stripped the bed and put fresh sheets on, but Nicholas's own body was so sweat-drenched he feared the clean sheets would be wasted, and yet taking a shower felt too exhausting, so Sören offered to give him a sponge bath.
As comforting as it was to receive Sören's tender loving care, Nicholas felt deeply ashamed. He'd had the flu many times before, but he couldn't remember ever being this completely wiped out by it. Granted, it had been a few years since he'd had it - masking and social distancing during the height of the pandemic had kept him from cold and flu as well - but he still felt flattened much more than previous instances, even with having gotten a flu vaccine early in the season. And this was with Sören taking care of him - and his cat - so he'd had to do as little as possible, just rest. He didn't want to think how much worse it would have been if he hadn't had Sören present.
Which, he realized, was part of the problem. As Sören bathed him, making soothing noises, giving reassuring smiles with love shining in those sweet brown eyes, Nicholas thought of how he'd heard many times that people over fifty were less resilient with illness and injury - and he had just turned fifty-six a couple weeks ago. Despite taking excellent care of himself, especially with being on testosterone to avoid complications, it seemed like the piper of old age was finally coming for his pay, and Nicholas's mind's eye played a series of hellish mental images of each year's flu being worse than the last... growing more and more frail by the year... chaining his twenty-six-year-old lover to a life as caretaker.
As much as he loved Sören, and the thought of life without him felt like ripping a piece out of his soul, Nicholas thought it probably wasn't fair for Sören, with his whole life ahead of him, to have more days like this in the future. Their age difference thus far had not been an issue with compatibility, but Nicholas worried that as time wore on Sören would end up seeing him as a burden and coming to resent him. He told himself Sören wasn't like that, he had a good, kind heart - Sören was nothing but patient and gentle as he administered the sponge bath, and admonished him to eat some more chicken soup - but the fear gnawed at him.
A few days ago Nicholas had been on pins waiting to ask Sören to move in with him, feeling like his heart would rip out of his chest with giddy excitement at starting a new chapter in life with someone he loved more than anyone prior. Today, Nicholas's heart was sinking into the icy pit of his stomach, knowing what he had to do, as much as it would wound them both, as much as he didn't want to be yet one more person who'd betrayed Sören. He told himself he was doing it for love, because he couldn't condemn Sören to this. He could put it off for another few days yet, give himself time to recover... and Sören, who himself seemed worn out from having held down the fort during his illness.
But as he held Sören that night, for the first time since he'd gotten ill, the closeness and connection was a hurt more than a comfort. His conscience demanded that he had to face the hammer-wielding giant of mortality alone, or at least with someone closer to his own age, even as the fire of Sören's passion fading from his life would feel like the depth of nuclear winter, more treacherous than the river of dreams.
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