will see!"
"Eek! A Man!" I laughed in a silly damsel-in-
distress voice. "Why, suh... Your dubious and forceful
nature has proven to be, uh, rather stimulating, I do
declare!"
"Roll over and shut up. The only thing I want open
on you is your ass," Sander chuckled as he used his knee to
plant my face down on our soft and feathery bed. I yanked
the eiderdown off and tossed it to the floor.
"There you go! One ass, just like you ordered." And
then the teasing and the play slowly morphed into some
serious passion.
He laid on his side and petted me from my head to
below my butt, ending each stroke with his fingertips
lightly brushing the back of my ball sack. I could feel his
erection against my hip, so I reached back and slowly
stroked his cock while he rubbed the small of my back.
"Johnnie, have you ever love someone as much as
that I love you?" he asked, switching to English, a hint of
whisper in his voice.
"Never. Never ever. And I never will," I said.
"There is no way that I can tell you how much I love you. I
try every day, you know? I try to find the words. I look in
my Danish dictionary. I know the words to say aren't in
English," I explained. "So you will just have to take my
word."
"I do. And I am same, with words I mean. My
English is still not so best, but even I try in Danish and
German. German, forget it. But closest I find is Russian,"
he said.
"What is it?"
" Ya tebya lyublyu, is what it call. But it don't mean I
Love you, like Jeg elsker dig do in Danish," Sander
explained. "It mean, You are part of me."
"Wow. Who'd ever think the Ruskies could get
something right? Because that's what you are," I said.
"Pokey, you are a part of me. The best part. Because you
make me want to be better than I am."
"Same for you." And then he kissed all up and
down my back. My shoulder blades. The back of my neck.
And then he climbed gently atop me and glided his
beautiful member into my quivering ass. Nothing felt as
good as Sander entering me, his mellow movements
gathering momentum as he reached the perfect rhythm for
us both. What a beautiful and considerate lover.
"Is this good, Johnnie?" he whispered.
"So good. God, it's so good. You feel so wonderful.
Thank you, Sander. God, I love you so fucking much..."
"Squeeze against me," he exhaled. "I want you to
hold me inside of you..."
"Yes! Oh, God, Sander! Oh, it feels so fucking good.
I love you! Please, hard as you like!" I managed to utter in
the heat of it all. My ass wanted more of him; deeper,
harder. "You know me so well! God, you know what to do.
Love me, Sander! Oh, God, make it go forever..."
"I love you, Johnnie! I'm so much in love with you...
You are so fucking hot! God damn! Ohhh.... Fuck!" He was
going at full tilt boogie, and I reached under and grabbed
my cock, alternating between jacking it and rubbing the
underside of it on the soft sheet.
"Sander, I'm gonna cum! Oh, God it's so fucking
good. Oh, please, harder! Harder!"
"I'm getting close," he breathed against my neck.
"Johnnie, I'm gonna cum! Ohhhhh!!! Ahhh! Of, fuck! I'm--
I'm... Aggghhhh!" And I felt the familiar warmth of his
mark of love filling my ass. It entered me with a pressure
that tickled the right spot, and that did it.
I blasted all over the sheets and my hand. What a
feeling! I just savored it for a moment, feeling Sander's
elevated heartbeat as he laid against my back. Then the
rain picked up outside, striking horizontally against the
north side of the house.
"Well, I know it wasn't Viagra," I chuckled. I felt the
movement caused by his laughter.
"No. Nobody need that stuff if they with you,"
Sander laughed. "You are what we in the business call A
Good Fuck!"
"What business?!"
"Monkey business!" he snickered.
"You know what?" I asked.
"What?"
"If somebody ever yells at you and calls you a
fucker, all you gotta do is tell 'em that I said you're the best
fucker ever!"
"What if they tell me to get fucked?"
"Say you're on your way home to me!"
SANDER AND JOHNNIE HAD GONE to bed.
Of course they both knew that there were people in
the house, but the layout of the floor plan allowed for near
perfect privacy; walls were not easy to hear through, and
each doorway had an inset jamb at least two feet deep. So
there was never much of a chance of anyone in the house
walking in on someone doing something they shouldn't
be, and it was even harder to hear anything.
Therefore, it was by no accident that when Sander
and Johnnie were making love that rainy night, that the
person had merely stumbled upon them, and just
happened to watch them the entire time.
Their door was cracked open to let the heat in from
the hall stove, and to listen for wolves in the yard. They
were watched, though. And the watcher masturbated and
ejaculated onto the floor. He used his foot to wipe it up as
best he could, and then returned to his room.
Chapter 14
reakfast time at the Hansen-Allen house is always
a bright affair. It's the start of a new day, and
B whenever Jannik's here it's even brighter. He came
to the table with a cat in each hand and plopped onto 'his'
chair, a wicker fan stool that was totally out of place with
the rest of the decor, but who gave a shit?
It was the funny looking chair that he'd rescued
from the back of the Lutheran Donation Center; apparently
it was too beat up for even them to do anything with. But
not for Jannik. He'd gotten it home, and the next day he
checked out a book from the library about basket weaving
and working with rattan.
Between that, and what he'd googled on the Net,
by the end of the weekend you'd have never thought that
it was anything other than a brand new, high quality piece
of furniture. He'd painted it, and there wasn't a wicker
weave out of place anywhere to be seen.
"I bring two friends," he said, hanging Klaus
around his neck, and placing Slinky on his lap.
"I know two friends who need their cat box cleaned
out," Pokey said, cutting strawberries and arranging the
platter of bread, fruit, cheese, and sliced meats.
"I do it after."
"Okay. You want some juice, or milk?"
"Both?"
"Sure. What about you, Mr. Allen?" He smiled at
me and winked.
"I'll have what he's having."
Sander carried everything to the table and then
swung past the fridge and grabbed the pitchers. He sat
down and scooted his chair close to me.
"Morning, beautiful," he said. "I hardly got any
sleep."
"Yeah. Sometimes sleep just isn't that... important,"
; I grinned.
The bread was fresh from the bakery and the butter
was creamy and soft, with just a hint of saltiness. "Where's
that guy who came last night?" Jannik asked. "Is he not
having some food?"
"He'll come and get something when he gets up,"
Sander told him. "We don't have to bother him."
"Pokey, can I ask you something?"
"Sure. Always."
"That guy was really mean to you. I know who he
is. I know what he did. And I wonder why... Why is he
here?" Jannik asked.
"He needs our help," Sander replied. "That's all we
have to know. If you needed help I hope someone would
give it to you, or to Johnnie."
"But me and Johnnie aren't assholes."
"No. But I can't turn someone away because of
something that happened that's over. And I accepted his
apology back then, just how Morten said he forgave you
when you broke his game controller, right? You wouldn't
want somebody to hold something against you, and so it's
better if we do the right thing," Sander explained.
"If you say so. But I still don't know. What do you
think, Johnnie?" Jannik asked.
"I'm with whatever brother decides."
"What if he kills us in our sleep?"
"Oh, I don't think we have to worry much about
that," I said. "Your brother's right about doing the right
Torben stumbled into the kitchen rubbing the sleep
from his eyes and asked if he was interrupting anything he
shouldn't be a part of. Pokey assured him that he wasn't
and invited him to join us.
"There's plenty, Torben. Help yourself. And there's
milk and orange juice here, and if you want coffee just
press the green button on the coffee maker and it'll take
care of itself," Sander said.
I had my misgivings last night when he offered
Torben a place, but I have to say that in spite of what had
happened those years ago, I could tell that Torben was
genuinely sorry. And my heart warmed at how
comfortable Pokey was at making our surprise guest feel
welcome.
"Thank you both for letting me stay last night. I feel
crazy that I even thought of coming here. I didn't mean to
make you uncomfortable, but I didn't know what else to
do," Torben began. "I got out of the hospital and I was
standing outside and I kept thinking about you. I thought
of everyone that I know, and I swear, guys, I couldn't think
of a single person who would want to see me at their
door."
Torben took a moment to butter his bread and top
it with cut strawberries. He sat it on his plate and cleared
his throat. He looked at Sander; his eyes were so sad.
"Sander Hansen. That's the only person I thought of
who might help me. I've wanted to call you for so long to
say how sorry I was, and..."
"Torben, really, it's okay. You told me you were
sorry in the hospital. I mean it when I say it's over, we start
new, okay?" Sander said. "Now what do you want to do
from here?"
"Pffft... I haven't even thought about what I'm
doing today," Torben snorted. "I'll have to find a place to
live, and because of my... Because I'm sick I won't have to
get a job ever. I don't know yet."
"Johnnie and I talked about it and we're fine with
you staying here until whenever. We don't mind."
"I would only think about it if you will let me pay
you money for rent, and I'll take care of my own food and
everything. But I would love it if I could stay, Sander."
"Johnnie?" Sander placed his hand on my knee.
"You already know what I think," I said.
"What about what I think?" Jannik added.
"What do you think?" Sander asked him. Jannik
took a long drink of orange juice and glanced over the top
of his glass at Torben."
"Do you like cats?" Jannik finally asked him.
Torben nodded. "Then I think you are one lucky fucker to
have a friend like my brother," he pronounced. "Don't
mess it up this time, that's what I say."
"I won't, I promise," Torben said, with a marked
look of relief on his face. "If I can do anything, just tell me.
I want to help too, you know?" Jannik started to say
something but Sander cut him off at the knees.
" You clean the cat box, Jannik. Nice try."
"I wasn't going to..."
"Nice try. Don't piss me off," Sander scolded.
"I'd listen wisely, Jannik the Younger," I teased him.
"Your foe is of Viking blood!"
"Well, so happens I'm related to my foe and have
the same blood as him so I'm not scared. And I'll clean out
the cat shit. I don't know why every-body's being so pushy
about it anyway."
And so went our first of many breakfasts with
Torben Petersen. And I was certain... Sander had done the
right thing.
"JANNIK MADS HANSEN! PLEASE report to the boss!
You are required!" Sander chirped through Jannik's
bedroom door.
"You're stupid!" Jannik replied. "Come and get me,
copper!"
"Get out here before I count to three or you're in for
it." Sander laughed.
"You can't count that high and you know it! You're
stupid!"
"I'll call mom and then you'll be dead."
"You would! What a baby! What do you want,
anyway?"
"Serious... No joking anymore. Me and John-nie
need to talk to you about something and we thought we
could go to the Saturday Market and get some food that's
"Okay." And he opened the door, his anorak jacket
already on him. "Let's go."
WE STOPPED AT THE BRUGSEN supermarket where
they have a key machine so we could make Torben a set,
and then headed over to the Saturday Market.
There's a horse there and the owner gives rides to
the little kids while their parents scour the market. There's
a picture on our fireplace mantle of Pokey at about six
years old riding this same horse. And here we are, two
boys in love walking through the market holding hands
enjoying our Saturday together. When I was a kid, not
much older than Sander was, he was sitting atop this very
same pony half way across the world. And now here we
were. What a beautiful puzzle life is, especially when the
pieces fit.
"There's a table free over there! I'll get it!" Jannik
hollered. He claimed the table by hopping on top of it and
dancing to a Shu-bi-dua song that was playing over the
sound system. The song is called—no lie— There is a
Dogshit in My Garden. And the funny part isn't the song
itself actually; it's that it is done in reggae style. That's
right, folks, Danish Reggae!
"If you're expecting 50-kroner bills in your
undershorts, you'll be waiting a long time," Sander teased
him.
"Not fifties," Jannik shot back, "hundreds!"
"Will you settle for nothing and get down from
there?"
"Depends," he said.
"On what?"
"Oh, nothing I was just talking about your
undershorts. Depends."
"You've been owned again, Pokes. I'd quit," I said.
"Even now he's thinking of his next attack."
"And there's more after that!" Jannik laughed, as he
skipped off the bench and planted his butt on the soft
grass. "So what's the big talk about?"
"Something really important we have to discuss
with you," Pokey said.
"Let me guess... You're both gay and you are
getting married," Jannik teased.
"Ha ha, Mister Funnyfuck. We're serious, we have
to talk with you. We'll have fun later, but right
now it's important family talk, okay?" Sander said.
"Oh. Sure. Okay. Sorry..."
"No, it's fine. Just want you to listen good, okay?"
"Did I do something wrong? Are you angry with
me?"
"Of course not, Cracker Jack! Never! No, look... We
just want to help you with something, okay?" Sander told
him.
"What?" Jannik asked warily.
"First, you are the most important person to me
that I know, that Mama and Pop knows, and Ingrid..."
"And me too," I added.
"You're scaring me. What's going on?" Jannik asked
fearfully. I had to agree that this wasn't starting out as
we'd hoped. I picked up the thread.
"Jan, here's the thing. And maybe it's easier if I say
it because I haven't known you as long as the family.
We're all worried about some things that we
have noticed since you came back from Russia."
"What?" he asked.
"Little things mostly, and that's how we want them
to stay. But if we don't talk about them and get something
figured out, we're afraid that what happened to you
might change you in a way that's
not so good," I explained.
"How do you think you feel?" Sander asked his
little brother. "Do you feel a little bit different?" Jannik said
nothing. His head dropped and tears appeared on his face.
Silent tears.
"Why are you crying? What's making you feel
bad?" Sander asked him, snuggling up to him on the grass.
"You can tell us anything, you know?" Jannik nodded, his
eyes cast to the ground. He focused on a pair of bunny
rabbits that were rooting in the grass.
"I'm... I hate everything now," he confessed. "I want
to cry all the time, and when nobody's there it's what I do."
"And that's why we're talking about it now,"