by T. T. Kove
"Yesterday," Frey started slowly, bowing his head. "I was so scared. You were there for me though through it all, and you're still here with me."
Jørgen shut his eyes. This sounded a lot like a 'thank you, but no thank you'.
"You make me feel safe, Jørgen," Frey continued slowly. "I feel so very safe when I'm with you, whenever you're around. That's why I want to try." He swallowed audibly. "If things had gone worse yesterday and that bullet had hit you instead of the horse. I would've had nothing to show for this." He motioned vaguely between himself and Jørgen. "I don't want to be afraid of being close to you anymore. S-so I want to, uh, try."
Jørgen opened his eyes slowly and blinked at Frey, who still had his head bowed and whose cheeks were flushed bright red. His hand, though, his thin, slender hand, inched up Jørgen's thighs towards his crotch.
Jørgen sucked in a breath. The warmth from Frey's hand felt good, even if it was outside his clothes. But at the same time he was worried. What if Frey couldn't deal with it and balked? What if he reverted to the way he'd been before? What if this ruined everything between them?
"Frey, are you sure—"
"I want to try," Frey murmured. "I want to be normal. I want you."
Jørgen's eyes flicked down to stare into Frey's. They were wide, nervous, but also completely sincere. Jørgen's eyes fell further, down Frey's small, thin body and he could see that Frey was aroused as well.
Frey's hand brushed Jørgen's hard cock, but his hand froze there. Either Frey didn't know how to continue, or he was too scared.
"Frey, how about I make you feel good?" Jørgen rolled onto his side. It was better, he figured, that he did something good for Frey. He doubted Frey had ever had much good done to him.
Frey swallowed, but he met Jørgen's eyes. He bit his lower lip, then nodded. His hand fell away from Jørgen's crotch and he instead fisted the bedsheets.
"Let me know if it's too much for you, okay?" Jørgen ran his hand down Frey's chest, until he reached the hem of his jumper. Frey had fallen asleep in all his clothes and Jørgen gently inched first the thick jumper over Frey's head, then the shirt and undershirt.
Frey's cheeks were tinted red by the time he lay bare-chested, but Jørgen only ran the flat of his hand over the pale skin, caressing him. "You're beautiful."
"Bit of an overstatement, isn't it?" Frey muttered.
"No." Jørgen shook his head, then bent down and nipped gently at Frey's lips. "No, it's not." He moved down Frey's neck, scattering small kisses on the smooth, pale skin.
A small moan escaped Frey's throat as Jørgen sucked a nipple into his mouth, and Jørgen couldn't help the smile that split his lips. He rolled over, insinuating himself between Frey's thighs as he continued his focus on the other nipple. Frey's only response was another low moan and to widen his thighs a bit to give Jørgen more room.
Jørgen slowly moved further south. He took his time caressing, kissing, licking and sucking Frey's skin. Frey was relaxed under him, for the time being, but as Jørgen reached his trousers, he started tensing up a bit.
"I'll make you feel so good," Jørgen murmured as he slowly unzipped the trousers and pulled them down Frey's thighs.
Frey was looking down at him, but he lay quietly. His lips were slightly parted, his breathing a bit more laboured than usual. Jørgen looked back into the green depths for a moment, then he finally, tentatively, cupped his hand around Frey's hard cock through his underwear.
Frey's breath hitched and his eyelids fell halfway shut.
"Does that feel good?" Jørgen wanted to be absolutely sure Frey was comfortable before he continued.
Frey nodded. "Y-yeah."
"Does your leg hurt?"
Frey shook his head. "Not much. Not enough to, uh—"
To stop. Got it. Jørgen took a shot and pulled Frey's underwear down. Frey's cock bobbed free, hard and leaking. Frey was a bit under the average when it came to size, but that didn't faze Jørgen at all. Instead he simply wrapped one arm around the shaft and started stroking slowly.
A louder moan escaped Frey and now both his hands were fisted in the bed sheets. Jørgen watched his face for a moment, watched how red was still tinting Frey's cheeks. The blush wasn't because of embarrassment though, Jørgen could tell, but because of his body's reaction to Jørgen's touch.
Jørgen flicked his tongue out and licked lightly under Frey's cock-head. Frey gasped and his hips bucked. Jørgen was happy that he was allowed to make Frey feel good, and now he was going in for the absolutely best part. Wrapping his arms around Frey's thighs, he took the head of the hard, leaking cock into his mouth and slowly worked his way down.
"Jørgen," Frey panted, eyes now closed completely.
Jørgen increased speed and suction. He wanted to blow Frey's mind, to show him that there was nothing bad about sex. To show him how amazing sex could be. Whoever had hurt Frey in the past, Jørgen was adamant that he would show Frey what he'd been missing. He'd never hurt Frey, he'd make sure Frey was always feeling good, that he was safe.
"Jørgen—oh!" Frey shot into Jørgen's mouth. It came as a surprise, but not at all an unpleasant one. Jørgen swallowed and continued to suck on the head until Frey didn't have anything else to give him.
Jørgen shimmied up Frey's body. He wasn't sure if Frey would be comfortable kissing after Jørgen had just blown him, so he settled for brushing his lips over a smooth cheek.
Frey's arms wound themselves around Jørgen's neck and Frey kissed his stubbled cheek.
"I want to make you feel good too, Jørgen," he whispered. "Will you let me?"
How could Jørgen say no to that? He was rock hard and pre-come was already leaking through his underwear. He wanted Frey's hands on his skin, wanted to feel Frey's slender fingers around his cock—
The doorbell rang several short times in a row, followed by an incessant pounding on the door.
Jørgen pushed himself up, and he and Frey stared at each other for a long moment before either of them reacted.
"I'll go get it," Jørgen offered, since Frey wasn't dressed.
He carefully disentangled himself from Frey so he wouldn't hurt his leg, then got out of bed. He thumped his hand against his erection, willing it to go down. He was wearing all his clothes though, so hopefully the layers would hide his predicament.
He hurried through the flat, as the incessant knocking still hadn't stopped. He unlocked the door and found himself face to face with Varg once he'd opened it. Varg stared up at him for a second, then pushed Jørgen away and strode into the flat. "Frey!" he yelled. "Frey!"
Jørgen stared after his black-clad back, then turned to raise a questioning eyebrow at Jonathan, who was leaning nonchalantly against the outside railing.
"He just heard about what happened yesterday." Jonathan shrugged his shoulders.
"Isn't he supposed to be on the mainland?" Last time Jørgen had heard, Varg was still back in Oslo, working his termination notice.
"He's back." Jonathan tried to act nonchalant about that as well, but Jørgen could hear the smug undertone. "To stay." And with that Jonathan brushed past Jørgen into the flat as well.
Frey had got dressed again and hobbled out into the living room on his crutches. Varg was currently clutching at him, and Frey awkwardly hugged him back one-armed.
"Bloody hell, Frey. I come back and the first thing I'm told is that you were almost shot." Varg pulled back to look at his brother, then dove in for another tight hug.
"Jørgen was almost shot. I only fractured my leg. It's not so bad, really. We were lucky."
"You could've died." Varg did not seem to want to let Frey go. "Oh my God."
Frey patted Varg gently on the back, but he kept looking at Jørgen. Jørgen couldn't read Frey's expression right then, but he didn't think Frey regretted what they'd just done, at least.
"You can't bloody die, alright?" Varg said, arms tightening even more around Frey's neck. "Jesus, Frey. You can't do risky stuff like that."
Frey pa
tted Varg's back. "You don't believe in Jesus."
Jørgen felt a paw scratch at the bottom of his jeans, and he looked down. Smiling, he bent down to scoop Kosmo up into his arms. Kosmo licked his face excitedly in greeting.
"Varg," Jonathan said. "Remember we have to be somewhere?"
"Oh yeah!" Varg pulled back from Frey, but didn't let him go. "Come on, we have to go."
"You want me to come?" Frey struggled against Varg's tug on his arm. "Where?"
"It's a surprise. Come on!"
Frey looked completely taken-aback as he glanced over at Jørgen. Jørgen shrugged. He had no idea what Varg was on about.
Varg's head turned to follow his brother's eyes and he stared at Jørgen silently for a couple of seconds. "Hey, Jørgen," he said eventually. "You can come too."
"Come where?" Frey asked quietly.
"I told you, it's a surprise. Come on, get ready so we can get going. Now. Chop chop."
Jørgen was just as bewildered as Frey as to what Varg was on about, but they both ended up doing exactly what Varg wanted them to.
*~*~*
"Look who's visiting!" Varg beamed and pushed Frey past the threshold into Christian and Andreas' living room.
Frey stumbled a bit, then was enveloped in a tight hug.
"My baby, it's so good to see you again!"
Frey's eyes widened in wonder.
"Mum!"
He threw his own arms around her, hugging her just as tightly as she was embracing him.
She laughed when she eventually pulled away to hold him at arm's length. Her eyes roved his face, studying him, and Frey took his time studying her too. She was her usual self, with a wide smile matching her continuously good mood. Her long, blonde hair hung braided and heavy over one shoulder. A wide tunic and skirt covered her body, flowing around her. She'd always been a slim woman, but she was plumper now. The tight hug from before hadn't been like they usually were.
"Hey, mum, correct me if I'm wrong, but people in Africa are starving right?"
Frey turned to look at Varg, who was studying their mum with a light frown.
"Yes." Their mum cast him a confused look.
"Then shouldn't you have lost weight instead of gaining it?"
Frey's hand shot up to cover his mouth. "Varg!" His brother had always been straight-forward, and sometimes he could be downright rude.
"I'm just saying." Varg threw his hands in the air. "I noticed it back in Oslo, when they came home, but in all the flurry of leaving for Svalbard I never got to ask. It was quite obvious now though, when she was hugging you."
A smile had spread on their mother's face as Varg talked. "As a matter of fact, there is something we want to tell you." Arms wrapped around her shoulder and Frey looked up at his tall, slender, blond father, who was also grinning widely.
"We're pregnant," he said.
Their mum slapped his hands away from her shoulders. "I was going to be the one to tell them the news, you buffoon!"
Their dad looked down at her, still smiling widely. "But I wanted to do it. I wanted to see their faces as I told them." He pecked her lips, then looked over at Frey and Varg. Frey was frozen in surprise, while Varg rolled his eyes. "And some faces they make, I must say."
"Frey, baby, are you all right?" His mum stepped up to him.
Frey blinked. Pregnant? She was pregnant?
"Aren't you a little too old to be pregnant?" Varg asked.
"Hey!" She slapped his shoulder. "Be nice. I'm not that old. As a matter of fact, you two have a very young mother. You've been lucky that way."
"New kid won't have that luxury," Varg said drily.
"You little—" She pretended to throw a punch at him.
Frey felt a hand on his shoulder and turned away from the scene. He looked up into Jørgen's questioning eyes and managed a weak smile. He placed his hand over Jørgen's and squeezed it gently before turning back to his mother and father. "Do you know the sex of the baby?"
Their mum directed a blinding smile at him. "Girls."
"Plural?" Varg's eyes practically bounced out of his head. "You're having twins?"
"Yes." Their mum threw a contemplative glance at their dad. "I think it must be your father's sperm. It's like super sperm."
"Oh, eww, mum! I don't want to hear about dad's— that's just so bloody eww!"
Frey couldn't agree more with Varg, even if he did sound like he'd reverted to his teenage years and not like the twenty-three year old he was.
"We've also decided on names," their dad beamed.
"Oh please share." Varg waved his hand as if indicating him to continue, though his voice was thick with sarcasm.
"Female versions of your names." Their mum stepped forward to kiss them both on the cheek. "Freya and Ylva."
"Oh my God, mum, that's too cliché for words."
Once again Frey agreed, but he really should've seen it coming. "I'm happy for you, mum." He hugged her. This time he was aware of her thick stomach, hidden in her loose clothing. "And you dad." He went over to hug his father as well.
Varg rolled his eyes again, but he followed Frey's example. "Guess I'm happy for you too."
As soon as Varg had let go of their mother, Jonathan stepped forward. "Congratulations, Mrs. Vinter." He took her hand in his and leaned down to kiss the top of it. "You must be ecstatic."
"I am." She actually giggled. "You must be Jonathan. The man who captured my wild child's heart." She reached over and grabbed Varg's hand, pulling him back over to her side. "You're so handsome. I can see what he sees in you. And so charming!" She giggled again.
Frey tried to hide his amused smile at Varg's incredulity. When he couldn't quite contain the laughter that slipped out, he turned towards Jørgen, who was gazing down at him with an equally amused smile. Frey suspected Jørgen was amused about Frey though, not Varg, and he blushed.
"And who might this be?" Frey's mum came up on Frey's side, looking at Jørgen with interest.
Jørgen took her hand and shook it. "I'm Jørgen."
"Frey's new boyfriend, apparently," Varg said. "Considering he spent the night at Frey's flat."
Frey looked at Varg, Jørgen and his parents with wide eyes. Jørgen wasn't his boyfriend. Was he? He had spent the night and they had done... well, intimate things only a little while ago. Frey liked him so much, and Jørgen liked him too. Frey couldn't not believe it, not after what Jørgen had done to him. He'd made Frey feel safe, feel wanted, feel desired.
"Another gorgeous man." Their mum smiled, shaking her head as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. "How do my boys do it? First Andreas, then Varg, and now Frey. Amazing. I'm Embla Vinter, and this is my husband Dag." She motioned to her husband, who also shook Jørgen's hand.
Frey smiled. Their mum had always considered Andreas one of her boys as well. He'd spent so much time over at their place during the years, he was like a third son for her. And Andreas was like a brother to both Varg and Frey.
Frey's eyes slid to the kitchen doorway, where both Andreas and Christian were standing. Andreas was smiling, and it widened as he met Frey's gaze. Frey smiled back at him.
Frey's mum turned, spotted Andreas, and sauntered over to him, hugging him as well. "I'm so happy for you, baby."
"Thank you, Embla." Andreas kissed her cheek.
"Come on, now," Frey's dad urged. "Christian and Andreas have made us all dinner. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm starving." He slung an arm around Embla as he walked towards the kitchen.
Jonathan's arm snaked around Varg's shoulders and he leaned in. "And you said I couldn't be nice when I met your parents. I was more than nice, babe—I was charming. Scored some major points there, didn't I?"
Varg scowled, and Frey had to suppress another smile and laugh. "Shut up, you." He elbowed Jonathan lightly in the side as they walked into the kitchen.
Frey turned to Jørgen with an uncertain look. "So that was my parents," he said stupidly. "They're... a bit special, I guess, not like conventional
parents."
"I noticed." Jørgen grinned down at him, then wrapped his arms around Frey's waist and pulled him close. "I like them. They seem nice."
"You did? That's good." Frey leaned into Jørgen's broad, hard, warm chest. "I'm glad." It passed through his mind that he never would've simply leaned into anyone like that before, but after the trauma of the day before and the morning's activities, it felt good and right. Jørgen's arms felt so right around him.
"Can you believe they actually liked Jonathan?" Jørgen chuckled. "I didn't even know nice was a part of his vocabulary."
Frey looked up at Jørgen's face. "You seemed to like him well enough when you two were sleeping together," he dared comment, but his voice was low, barely audible.
Jørgen tilted his head down and what Frey thought was a guilty look passed over his face. "Well, it wasn't so much about liking or disliking, as the fact that he was the only one available for sex." He shrugged. "Although, yeah, I do like Jonathan. He's an okay bloke once you get to know him and get past his arsehole behaviour. It's just that he doesn't make a good first impression."
Frey's stomach fluttered nervously at being so close to Jørgen. His man. That was what Jørgen was now, right? He was Frey's. "Are you ready to go in there? It's going to be a nut-house."
Jørgen chuckled and leaned down to peck Frey's lips. "I think I can handle it."
Chapter Six
"Since this, apparently, is a day to meet the family, how would you feel about meeting mine?" Jørgen looked at Frey enquiringly as he got into the driver's seat of his car.
Frey was sitting buckled up in the passenger seat already, his crutches at his side. He bit his lower lip as a result of Jørgen's words. "Are you sure? That you want me to meet them, I mean."
"I wouldn't ask if I wasn't sure." Jørgen smiled, then reached over and squeezed Frey's thigh. "It's okay if you don't want to. Yesterday was a long day and today's been pretty exciting too."
They'd had dinner, then Frey's parents had left to stay with Varg and Jonathan. Jørgen had been absolutely truthful to Frey, because he had liked his parents. They'd been unconventional, sure, but they'd been nice and quirky and all-in-all well-rounded people who seemed to love their sons, and Andreas, a heck of a lot.