It’s pretty painful to put his running gear on this morning. Painful and a little bit agonising as he would much rather curl up on Erik’s chest and wake him up with kisses and ask for more favours. He is going to have to brave up and ask about blowjobs. Yes, he wants one, but he wants to learn how to give one too. Surely Erik must know how to give good head, because Oskar is pretty sure he once overheard someone saying that she had blown Erik at some party. He’ll just ask for some pointers. Some helpful hints on where to start.
And now he has a semi-boner in his spandex pants, and he spills some of the hot lemon and ginger down his front, pulls his hat over his head, and closes Erik’s bedroom door behind him. He still manages to gulp the last of the hot liquid down his throat and leave the cup in the sink, before heading out in the dark morning.
It’s bloody dark. And bloody cold, the hard snow crunching under his feet as he walks down the drive where Einar is stood on his skis waiting.
“Look over there, under the streetlight,” he whispers and points at the fox digging in the snow. It’s an adult, but it’s almost like the animal is playing, jumping and scratching at the snow to get to whatever it is that is hiding underneath.
“Love seeing all the wildlife out here,” Oskar whispers. “The only thing I come across running in Oslo is people. And a few birds.”
“I know. I love it here. Lots of wildlife, and hardly any people around. Are you ready? Do you need to warm up before we hit full speed?” Einar gives him an evil grin.
He’s just like his son. Evil. Eyes twinkling and that smirk on his face that means he is going to go off fast and hard. Make Oskar run through the icy patches like his arse is on fire whilst Einar glides effortlessly in the tracks.
“Nope. Bring it on,” Oskar says and sets off. At least he can get a few paces ahead before Einar overtakes him.
He smiles. This is good. This is just what he needs.
The day has passed too fast. The hours have just disappeared in a blink of an eye. They have managed a nice long leisurely Stealth Coffee Club session in the garage, eaten slow-cooked Julegrøt porridge for lunch, got beaten at yet another over-complicated board game, and got the worst sugar-rush after eating too much of the crisp kransekake that dominated the table, followed by an epic gingerbread baking session in the afternoon, before Erik declares that he has paid for seats on the Oslo train at six, and if they are going to catch it they have to bribe someone to drive them down to the station.
And Oskar stands there in the middle of the living room, with a gingerbread biscuit dangling from his mouth dressed in his cat onesie with Lottie on his hip, and it feels like someone has punched him in the stomach.
He is not ready to go home. He is not ready. He wants to stay. Stay in this warm bubble of love and laughter and safety and peaceful chaos.
Instead, he nods, hands Lottie back to her mum, goes and gets changed and packs his bag.
He’s hardly brought anything, but he folds his onesie up and carefully strokes the fabric as he zips the bag up. Reminds himself to go down and get his decoration from the tree, because he wants to bring it home. It’s his, and he will forever treasure it when he has a day when life is just getting him down. He thinks that if he feels sad, just getting in his cat onesie will kind of bring him back here, to this place where his mind is strangely at peace and life is just simple.
He walks back downstairs like a doomed man on the way to the gallows. Head hanging low. He doesn’t want to go.
Then Leila takes his bag from him and unzips the zip and starts loading plastic containers of food and biscuits and cakes and a bottle of Julebrus, because they may need some cheer on that dreadfully boring train ride. Then she holds up the box of wrapped sweets that she won in her own ‘Coin in the Gingerbread Loaf competition’ and gives Oskar a smile and a wink as she tips the contents into his bag.
He wants to cry a little bit. Throw himself on the floor and pretend to be a kid who doesn’t want to leave the party. Instead he revels in getting one last session of Love therapy, which funnily enough, he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind the hugs. He doesn’t mind the cringeworthy sentences Erik’s mum is whispering in his ear. He needs them. He is important. He is loved. He is so very, very-much loved.
He kind of knows he is and it’s messing with his head.
At least this time they have seats, and the train has barely started to move when they have to stop waving at Elise and Geir who drove them to the station. And Oskar feels empty. A little numb.
“These past days have felt like I have been living in this bubble. Like the life I lead in Oslo is so far removed from reality that I just can’t grasp it.”
“I know,” Erik whispers. “It’s been the best Christmas. I love going home. We can go again whenever you want to. Just pop home for the weekend to chill out. I know Mum and Dad would love to see you again, and you need to cuddle Lottie, and Emilia loves you, and even Linus told me that you are a really cool dude. I need to bring Linus up to Oslo next year and take him to a concert or something, make him feel like he is grown up and cool. Emmy did that to me when I was sixteen, brought me to see Bon Jovi at the Spectrum and I remember thinking it was the most amazing experience. We need to plan, think about a band that we want to see, and we can book and bring him as a surprise. Something cool.”
It’s a little bit much for Oskar’s brain to take in. All these plans for the future, when Oskar can’t even grasp what is going to happen within the next hour.
Instead, he buries his face in Erik’s chest and lets Erik just hold him. Rocking him gently with fingers tangling in his hair as he talks nonsense and blubbers on about concerts and artist and the epic New Year’s party the boys upstairs are in charge of. Luckily the party venue is not upstairs. No, they have the full use of the campus cafeteria and community centre, and sponsorship from Sagene Bryggeri, and food catered by the catering college, and some local celebrity known from TV is coming to DJ and it will apparently be epic.
Well, Oskar is not going anywhere near it, however epic it may be.
He is going to stay at home. Like he always does. And probably have a panic attack over the fact that Erik might not be coming back to sleep in his bed. Hoping he will. He doesn’t care if Erik is drunk as a skunk as long as his skinny arse ends up back in Oskar’s bed. He wants to tell him that. But he thinks it might be creepy to demand that after being Erik’s boyfriend for what? Two days?
They may be boyfriends, and kiss and be all super-snuggly cuddly like they are now, but Oskar doesn’t know the rules. It’s not like he has asked. And he doesn’t want to be that person. Like his mum. Full of questions and demands and timings and ultimatums. It’s just not him.
He still asks. Because he needs to start somewhere. He needs to know where he stands.
“Baby, what happens when we get back home? What happens? To us? This?” Oskar lifts his head up and looks at Erik.
And Erik looks like he wants to cry. The words spill out of his mouth, almost like he can’t stop himself.
“I don’t know.”
It’s a shit thing to say, even Oskar knows that. It’s such a lame cliché thing to say. Erik is being a shithead. To Oskar of all people. He loves Oskar. He said so. He’s even said that he loves Oskar so much that it’s a little bit frightening. It’s not fair.
It’s not fair at all.
Erik is just being honest. Christmas has been easy. The best. But now it’s over and it’s back to reality.
Shit.
They walk hand in hand, leaving the Central station like they belong together. Because they do. Erik knows that. Oskar belongs to him. They belong together. Oskar makes him insanely happy, but he knows that people talk. He knows that there will be gossip. Words that will not always be kind.
He can take it. I mean, he has sometimes done it himself. Thrown careless comments out to a crowd for a few seconds of laughter with an unkind joke. He deserves whatever people will choose to throw at him, he just needs to stand up for himself and own
it.
He is gay. Fine.
He has a boyfriend. Super fine.
He needs to start being honest and telling people just that. Fucking scary.
The most frightening thing of all is that he knows Oskar doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want people to know his business and Erik can understand that. Still, Erik has no intention of not sleeping in Oskar’s bed every night. He intends to do a lot of stuff in Oskar’s bed. Which they need stuff for.
They need to stop at a convenience store and buy a few essential things. Because Erik doesn’t have any condoms, because he hasn’t had the urge to even go that far with anyone for a long, long time.
“We need to buy condoms,” his mouth blurts out. Walking down a nice normal residential street late at night in Oslo. And Oskar almost trips over his own feet.
“Okay,” Oskar replies, smiling nervously.
“And lube. We will need lube. Not that I am saying that we need to do all these things right now, but we might want to. One day. Eventually and then we will need to have these things. Better be prepared.” Erik needs to stop talking before Oskar runs away and never speaks to him again.
“I want a blowjob,” Oskar stutters out. His breath steaming out in front of him. He can’t even look at him, but this is good Erik thinks. They are talking about things. Important things.
“You can have as many blowjobs as you want. I can’t guarantee I will be any good at them, but I will try. And you need to tell me what you like. What feels good.”
“I can’t believe we are walking across my old schoolyard talking about blowjobs.” Oskar shakes his head.
“You went here, to this school?” Erik stops and looks around, the deserted dark windows looming over them almost making him shiver. Ornate brick buildings, and benches dotted around the open square. “Wow. Cool school.”
“Hated it. Spent most of my time hiding from idiots and trying to pass all my exams so I could get out of here.”
Oskar looks a little sad and Erik can’t stand it. He wraps him up in another hug. Kisses his cheeks. Kisses his lips. Little soft comforting kisses.
“I wish I had been here to look after you. I would have protected you. Sat with you and bought you coffee and held your hand. I wish I had met you years ago, then I wouldn’t have made so many mistakes and hurt people.”
“Why? Who have you hurt?” Oskar is just looking at him. All honest and kind and wonderful and Erik kind of thinks he might start to cry again. He has never cried this much over just being happy in his life. It’s pretty stupid to be honest.
“Mostly girls I messed around with. I wanted to be normal, I wanted to be like everyone else. Kissing and making out and having sex and being this cool bloke. I hurt a few people just by being an arsehole, pretending to be all stupid and stuff. I should have just been honest and stopped myself. Instead, I would get scared and get drunk and just… I’m not always a very good person, Oskar. I don’t want to be like that. I want to be honest and be me. I want to be happy, but I don’t quite know how to kind of make the old me become the new me. I don’t know how to be me anymore. “
“I just want to be with you. Just don’t worry about it. Let’s just see how things work out. Whatever happens, I love you. I mean that, because... Well, I do. I’ve never been in love before, so I don’t know what I am supposed to do and say, but…”
Now Erik is crying again. It’s just a little tear, but it’s so damn comforting not being alone. Being honest. Being brave. Because standing here with Oskar it’s so easy to just be normal. Just standing here in the deserted schoolyard on a frosty December evening after Christmas, letting Oskar kiss his tears away.
“You know that night after the party, when you ended up in my bed?” Oskar has a little smile on his face. A little twinkle in his eye.
“Yes?” Erik teases.
“That wasn’t just a drunken mistake, was it?” Oskar looks so happy. Smiling. His eyes twinkling in the glow from the streetlights.
“No,” Erik admits, and Oskar’s gloved hand is up, wiping water that is still spilling from his eyes onto his cheeks. “I was so tired. I was tired and sad and lonely, in a room full of people partying. I felt like the loneliest person in the world. I just wanted to feel something, and I didn’t care if you laughed in my face or punched me, or if you would never speak to me again. I was piss drunk and I went downstairs to find you and tell you that I was in love with you and I would do anything to be with you. That’s how piss drunk and pathetic I was. But you weren’t there. Your room was empty, so I think I must have just curled up in your bed thinking I would wait for you. I don’t really remember anything after that. Sorry.”
Oskar just laughs. Kisses his eyelids. His cheeks. His lips.
“You silly, silly boy.” He giggles. “I’m happy you came to me. I’m so happy you came.”
“Me too.” Erik sniffles and flashes a little smile. “Best thing I ever did. And I couldn’t believe how cute you were when I woke up. You were all angry and tense and feisty, and all I wanted to do was give you a hug. God, it was a fucked-up morning, wasn’t it?”
“Mmm. It was the weirdest morning of my life, I think. Also, the best morning of my life.” Oskar does the nose rub again, but his eyes are twinkling. Almost mischievously.
“Why was that?” Erik asks, reaching out and grabbing Oskar’s hand as they start walking across the yard towards the road.
“Because I wasn’t alone. I realised I wasn’t alone, and it was nice to have someone there you know? And somehow, you didn’t scare me. Well you did at first, but once you started talking and being all grumpy and funny, I think I realised I liked you. That you were safe. It was nice. Really nice.”
They walk in silence the rest of the way, letting their hands swing between them, gloved hands laced in a firm grip. Little glances now and then, smiles and nudges. Erik seemingly lost in thought, and Oskar. Well, Oskar.
Oskar can’t bear it. All the anxieties that are brewing in him like angry moths in his chest. Flapping and taunting him when he should be feeling happy and calm. He has nothing to worry about. Yet, he has everything to worry about. The little simple things that can so easily tip his world off this new fragile axis.
“Come sleep with me,” Oskar blurts out as Erik pulls his glove off with his teeth, so his fingers can punch the code into the keylock to open the front door to the dorm block.
“Of course, I will come and sleep with you. Why on earth would I sleep anywhere else?” Erik replies and his face looks almost hurt. Like he can’t believe Oskar had to ask.
“Good,” Oskar says. It is good. Isn’t it?
“You are worried again. Oskar, please don’t be worried. I won’t tell anyone, and I will sneak out before anyone wakes up and I will try not to make your life more complicated. I just need to be with you.”
Fucking hell. Oskar doesn’t know how Erik does it. How he just stands there and looks at him, his face all open and honest, and how he kind of comes out with all this bullshit that makes Oskar all warm inside.
“I don’t want you to sneak out. I want to wake up with you in the morning. I don’t think I care what anyone thinks anymore. It’s not important. They can gossip and tease me all they want, I don’t think I care.” Oskar laughs nervously. Shrugs his shoulders. He doesn’t. He honestly doesn’t care if they walk straight into the entire dorm, sitting around the table whilst holding hands. He needs to own this. He needs to once and for all, be brave and honest and figure this out. For himself. For Erik.
“You want to be out in the open about us?” Erik looks a little surprised. Whilst Oskar shrugs his shoulders. Again.
“I don’t want to go back to the way things were. Things need to be different now, because I have you. Don’t I?”
He doesn’t know why he feels the need to question it. Because Erik is his. His. This Erik. This Erik who cries at a drop of a hat, who smiles so easily and who lets Oskar kiss him and who sleeps naked next to him and whose hands are all around his face, whilst h
is lips are kissing his again and Oskar just melts. Squeals a little with delight at the tongue action, and kind of tries to… He needs more lessons. Needs to figure out this tongue thing. Because he is quite sure he has never seen people kiss as sloppily as Oskar kisses. All lips and spit and... ugh. It’s still amazing however uncoordinated and un-movie like their little make-out sessions end up.
I have nothing to lose, he thinks. Nothing. Because Oskar can’t think of anything worse right now than going back to his old life. Being alone and tired and lonely. He’s never felt lonely, but he must have been, because the sheer thought of not having Erik next to him is making him break out in an angst-ridden sweat.
“Promise me,” he pants and presses his lips to Erik’s lips. A little desperately perhaps, but right now he is fucking desperate. “Promise me, we fix this. That we make this work. Promise me things will be okay, Erik, because I need this. I need you to help me fix this.”
“Fix what baby?” Erik looks a little confused. “Nothing’s broken. We’re not broken, are we?”
“No.” Oskar smiles a little bit. He is being ridiculous. “We’re not broken. I just don’t know how to do this. How to be us.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t know how to be us either, but we will have a lot of fun figuring it out, won’t we? Because I am going to stick with you forever. Get used to it.”
He pushes the door open and Oskar kind of gets half carried over the doorstep, clinging to Erik with his lips latched onto that mouthy mouth of his. He doesn’t even let go when he sticks his key into the door to 212:A, still far too lost in messily kissing Erik’s lips and sucking on his tongue and scratching teeth against teeth and giggling softly when...
There is water all over the floor, flowing in a steady stream from the kitchen area. Oskar has never seen so much water. It’s everywhere. Everywhere, as he lets go of Erik and runs towards the kitchen.
In this Bed of Snowflakes we Lie Page 13