Clueless Camping - 7. My Danish family

The bus trip from Jacob’s apartment to his parents’ home took 40 minutes, plus a ten-minute walk at the end. I asked how he made it so fast the night he’d gone there by bike. He explained how he’d taken his bike on the Metro and rode it from the airport to Dragør. He hoped his mom or dad would give us a lift to the nearest Metro station when we were returning tonight. That would shorten our journey time considerably.

We arrived about seven thirty, which according to Jacob was fine, even if half-an-hour late. His dad opened the door and my first thought was, ‘Hey, if his son looks this good at age fifty plus, I’m a lucky guy.’ Jens was a slightly shorter, and a maybe twenty-pounds-heavier version of Jacob. He was obviously fit, had all his hair, and the same charming smile as his son. His blue eyes were paler though, but when Jacob’s mom came out of the kitchen to greet us, I knew the source of my boyfriend’s intense blue gaze.

Benedicte was a formidable woman; almost as tall as her husband, sharply intelligent and witty. The latter was probably a good thing considering the banter the two male members of her family kept going most of the time. They certainly punctured the myth about blonds being dumb, and I might have felt intimidated by this clever, outspoken and affectionate family.

But Jacob’s parents were also easygoing, pleasant and clearly focused on making me feel welcome. They expressed genuine surprise and gratitude for the gifts – along the lines of ‘You shouldn’t have’ and ‘Mmm, can’t wait to taste these.’ Jens asked us if we wanted a beer or some wine, but Jacob declined for now and ducked into the kitchen to grab two bottles of mineral water.

We went into the garden since we were eating on the ‘terrace’ which was what Jens called the deck outside their living room. They had a nice garden with flowerbeds, a few trees, and the expected view over Oresund. The only disadvantage to the neighborhood was the noise from the constant approach of airplanes. At least they weren’t overhead, but about a mile out over the water. I suddenly recalled Evan and I being fascinated by the proximity to huge flying machines during our first week here five years ago, before it sort of became routine.

I’d never imagined that such relaxed and considerate hosts were possible. I suppose they were the same five years ago, but I was a kid then, and not aware of these matters. I’d suffered a few years of formal family dinners at home since then, not to mention the occasional torture of having a meal at Charlotte’s house. Jacob’s parents chatted about inconsequential matters and served a lovely but ordinary dinner. Thank god, an elaborate and fancy meal would have made me uncomfortable. Jens handed me a beer as if this was natural and seemed surprised when I declined.

It reminded me of the first time my cousin had suggested beer – and even worse, snaps (aquavit) – for me. We’d treated ourselves to lunch in Thisted, and Jacob insisted we eat smørrebrød, which are traditional Danish open-faced sandwiches. Apparently, beer is the customary beverage and if you have the pickled herring, snaps is obligatory.

I had agreed to a small beer, but voiced my apprehension about being carded, since I had no ID apart from my passport and was too young anyway. Jacob explained you could buy and drink beer from the age of sixteen in Denmark. For higher alcohol content and in bars or restaurants the minimum age was eighteen, though.

Sure enough the waiter gave me a dubious look when Jacob ordered, but my cousin calmly said: “Han er nitten[1],” and his statement about my true age was accepted. He told me most Danes considered the US drinking age of twenty-one rather weird.

“It almost got me in trouble when I went to New York four-and-a-half years ago. Luckily my birthday was a couple of weeks before my holiday, so I could drink legally. But man, it was weird to be carded all the time. It made me feel like a teenager.” He laughed, and the tale prompted me to ask about his date of birth, which turned out to be in January. I was relieved my oblivious nature hadn’t caused me to miss his birthday. That would have been embarrassing.

In any case, the beer in Thisted was my first, and I can’t say I liked it much. Jacob ordered snaps for himself and made me try it. Brrrrrr, even worse! My evil cousin had laughed until tears ran down his face at the horrible contortions of my face caused by the burning of the spicy 40% alkohol. After that I wanted a Coke to drink, but Jacob recommended getting some lemonade and turning my beer into a shandy. This helped, and I did the same thing the two other times we had beer during the camping trip.

I still preferred a soft drink, though, and my boyfriend knew me well enough to make sure there was a can of Coke ready for me for our meal with his parents. He accepted a beer for himself, but supplemented it with water, as did Benedicte and Jens. To me it was slightly odd to see such casual use of alcohol, drinking it for a relaxed family dinner. At home – or rather in Father’s house and during visits to his relatives – wine was only served on special occasions, and the number of times I’d seen my parents drink other kinds of alcohol, apart from champagne for New Year, was limited.

Jacob could probably read my mind and he used the opportunity to start a conversation about differences in drinking habits. It was a nicely neutral subject, and Benedicte and Jens had plenty of interesting insights for me. I’d noticed the relaxed attitude about alcohol when we were in Klitmøller, but I had assumed this was due to the ‘surfer’ atmosphere. This innocent observation made Jacob burst out laughing.

“Sorry, Russell, but you’ve got it all backwards. Yeah, there were a few people lying around and drinking beer after surfing, but the guys there were pretty restrained. Most of them were serious about their sport and they didn’t want to miss out on windsurfing because of hangovers. And tackling Vesterhavet drunk on a board is not a good idea. No, you haven’t really seen Danes who’re drinking.”

By the end of dinner I’d been enlightened on how the Viking heritage had ‘culled’ most Danes with low tolerance for alcohol. Nah, only joking, but Jens maintained that of all Europeans, and even amongst Scandinavians, Danes are able to consume high amounts of alcohol without paying the penalty of feeling sick – or at least without being as miserable and hung-over as the rest of us.

“Oh, we still get all the health issues and dependence problems, especially since we can drink more on a daily basis and binge harder before our bodies call a halt to it.” Jens added.

However, Benedicte said traditions and peer pressure were just as important.

“The national culture of Danes is deeply entrenched in ‘eat, drink, smoke, and have fun’. We scorn being sensible and actually relish the idea of Danes being the cute, laid-back, party people in Scandinavia[2]. Particularly in your age group, Russell, there is a huge pressure to conform by drinking a lot; especially when you’re on holiday away from home.” She sighed and her face got the disgusted-but-resigned-adult look for a moment.

Her husband and son chuckled, but Jens reached over and patted her arm in sympathy. “I know, Dicte, but try and forget those ‘drunken-teen damage’ law suits from abroad. At least, our son never did anything stupid like that – as far as we know – and our future son-in-law seems sensible, too.” Both of them turned to smile at me.

Ooops. It was time for the uncomfortable conversation about my relationship with their son.

As if he sensed my need for support, Jacob moved his chair to my side of the table and took my hand. He had been sitting opposite his dad, while Benedicte was across the table from me. There was a long silence, or at least it felt like that to me, as I waited for his parents to start questioning us. Which they did, but totally not in the way I had expected.

“Russell, does my son make you truly happy?” Benedicte’s voice was gentle and I looked up from fiddling with my napkin.

“Y…yes, very.” Her smile was encouraging, and Jacob squeezed my hand.

“I… I have difficulty believing he really wants to be with me, and I worry about n…not being able to stay in Denmark, but I love him m…more than anything in the world. Even more than Evan.” It was true, too. No matter how much I loved and adored my twin, I’d realized how deep my feelings for Jacob went. If I had to choose, I’d follow the man I loved with all my heart. But it was only as I said these last words that matters finally fell into the proper perspective.

Confirming my love for Jacob, and my desire for a future at his side, also realigned me with Evan. In my mind I saw the two paths of our lives, which had been split apart by one small unfortunate event five years ago, converge and fuse to form parallel bands of shiny joy with our twin bond reestablished. I know it sounds silly, but it was only at this moment that I fully got it: saying yes to Jacob also meant merging my destiny with that of my twin, facing the world together. Fuck, I’d been so slow to get the point, but never mind.

It was just like that revealing night under the moon on Læsø. A huge light went on in my head, but this time there was no insecurity or doubts. My delight in finally figuring it out caused me to turn to the man at my side in gratitude. I must have shown how I felt – all glowing with love and hope and joy – because Jacob’s face lit up in a happy smile and his blue eyes got intense. For once I didn’t care about having an audience, not even a parental one.

“Jacob, I love you more than words can say. This summer with you has been the best months of my life. Becoming your boyfriend is the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me. Spending the rest of our lives together is all I wish for. And the best part is, I know you feel the same way. I understand it now, I really do!”

I threw myself forward to hug and kiss him. He caught me in his strong arms when my chair overturned and I almost fell on my knees. Somehow we managed not to smash our foreheads together, make his chair topple too, my plate fall to the ground, or any of the other small disasters which threatened due to my impulsive lunge. I had no time to feel awkward because I got kissed thoroughly and possessively.

By the time we ran out of breath, a small sniffle and a discrete cough intruded on my senses. All my previous blushes were nothing compared to the heat which rose to my face as we pulled apart. Holy sh.. I’d just had my mouth ravaged in front of my lover’s parents. But Jacob looked so serene and blissful I told myself it was OK. I rested my flaming cheek on his chest.

“Jeg elsker ham. Han elsker mig og har brug for mig. Vi er lykkelige sammen.[3]” Jacob took a deep breath. ”I know we’re right for each other. Having your support and help means a lot to me – to us. Yes, there are obstacles and difficulties, but I believe we’ll manage to get past them. No matter what it takes; I hope we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together.” He lifted my face to look into my eyes. “I love you, Russell.”

He kissed me gently, and I was glad to see his eyes were moist too. An even louder sniffle made us turn our heads. Benedicte had her head on her husbands’ shoulder and she was dabbing her eyes and smiling. Jens was patting her arm and cleared his throat as he met our eyes. I had the feeling he was uncomfortable with all the mushy stuff, but knew better than to object. Or was it the sight of two men kissing which offended him?

His words dispelled any budding worries. “Well boys, if you’re done making Dicte weepy and sentimental, maybe we could talk about a few practical matters. As you know, Jacob, my side of the family has no problems with accepting you and Evan. Helena called me earlier today and expressed her delight. She’s eager to meet the future husband of her favorite godson.”

Jacob chuckled. “Faster[4] Helena doesn’t have any other godsons. I’ll call her and maybe we can find time to visit her tomorrow.”

Jens nodded. “Hun er ude i kolonihaven[5].”

Jacob turned to me. “My aunt is staying in the shed she has on her garden plot, not too far from where I live. We should be able to cycle out there.”

“But I don’t have a bike.” Frankly, I'd had enough cycling for one summer, but somehow I knew my objection would be shot down.

Jacob promptly did so. “You can use my mountain bike, and I’ll take the racer. I even have an extra helmet for you.” He grinned at me, as if he’d read my mind. “You can’t live in Copenhagen and not cycle, Russell. Everyone rides a bike here.” My future in-laws made confirming noises in the background. Damn. Fine then, I’ll cycle.

His dad cleared his throat, and we turned our attention to him. Benedicte looked slightly grim and said, “Well, I wish I could say your relatives on my side of the family would be equally happy for you. To be fair, we don’t know for sure, since we haven’t told them anything definite yet. But based on their reactions during the week your father was here, Russell, I’m afraid we can expect all kinds of stupid behavior.”

She almost snarled the last words. It was kind of scary, reminding me of a mother bear defending her cub, supposedly one of the most dangerous things on earth. Good thing she was on our side, and I had the feeling even my father would back down if faced with her righteous wrath.

“In any case, I’m not really keen on you being subjected to all of their nonsense, which is why I hope Isa will go along with the idea of letting you travel around the world for a few months.” Benedicte exchanged a look with Jens, while I suppressed a grin over my mom being called Isa rather than Isabella by her aunt, who was only two years older. I suddenly remembered the name from last time, and my mom rolling her eyes before explaining how her toddler auntie had struggled to say the name of her first niece and ended up with the short version.

“In fact, Jens and I have decided we’ll fund your trip, Russell, if your mom can’t for some reason. So, I think you should dust off your travel plans and start looking for flights, Jacob.”

My jaw dropped and I felt Jacob’s hand twitch in surprise. We looked at each other, and I knew he hadn’t foreseen this offer. I heard Jens mutter something; “Sgu billigere og sjovere end et kæmpebryllup[6].” Jacob grinned and later told me his dad thought giving us travel funds was cheaper than holding a huge wedding – and more fun for us too. I agreed.

Benedicte ignored him and continued. “Surprisingly, Paul phoned me from Singapore this morning. He had heard from Peter, who has been back here on business but is on his way home right now. He repeated their invitation for you to visit them, if you want. He’s never said anything before, but he rather bluntly informed me, they were OK with you bringing your boyfriend too. So at least you’ve got two sensible uncles.”

Seeing my confused face, Jacob explained Benedicte’s meaning. “I have uncles who are identical twins, Peter and Paul. They are eight years older than my mom, and they’ve lived in Asia for almost thirty years. We only see them when one of them returns here for business reasons, or on the rare occasions they come home for family gatherings. I think the last time was for my grandparents’ diamond wedding anniversary in 2006 and before that when oldefar died in 1995. My great-grandfather, I mean.”

He looked at his mom. “Peter and Paul never married, did they? And wasn’t there some talk about them becoming priests, but backing out? Do you think…?”

They stared at each other in silence for a few moments, and a dreadful urge to giggle came over me at the idea of another set of gay twins in my maternal grandfather’s family. I mean, what were the odds?

Benedicte shook her head. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. All I care about is that they understand about family being more important than prejudice. Oh, and the priest matter was just Karl being his usual obnoxious self. He’s always hated the fact that his youngest brothers were more successful businessmen. Once they got richer than him, Karl began pretending they ought to change vocations from money to saving souls. He even managed to persuade our dad that he had wanted them to go into the Church. That’s when I realized Dad was beginning to,” she hesitated, “… lose his marbles, is this what you say?”

“Forget about Karl, Dicte. He always was a small-minded, intolerant asshole.” Jens patted her hand, and I recalled Jacob telling me about his uncle Karl reacting negatively when he came out. Apparently Jacob and his dad shared opinions about this relative, and surprisingly, his sister had no objections to the harsh epithets. In fact, she confirmed their views.

“Yeah, my brother is an idiot and a bully. But unfortunately he’s also clever and charming, when he wants to be. Borderline psychopath is probably the best term for him. I’m sure his colleagues were relieved when he retired last year.” She shivered and stood up.

“Let’s clear the table and drink coffee inside. We can continue the discussion there.” We all got up and helped. I carried things inside, Jacob filled the dishwasher, Jens made coffee, and Benedicte got out cups and homemade cookies. Soon I was sitting on the sofa with Jacob’s arm around my shoulders and his parents in chairs opposite us.

This time Benedicte started on a cheerful subject. “So, Russell, Jacob tells me you’re fine with us organizing a small informal engagement party for the two of you. I’ve talked to Isa and she’s going to help as well. Now, do you want to be involved in the decisions about the time and place, food and drinks, and who we should invite? Or, are you like my son who’d probably prefer to just turn up and enjoy himself?”

I didn’t quite know what to say. Jacob helped me out. “The most important matter is who we’re going to invite. I’d prefer to keep it to the close family, but I’d like to add my best friend Christian, as I expect he will be my best man when we get married. Did you want to ask your friend Charlotte to come over?”

Benedicte picked up a piece of paper from the small pile next to her coffee cup and gave it to me. “So far this is the guest list I’ve compiled.” Jacob and I looked at the handwritten list.

Russell and Jacob, Isa and Kristin, Evan and Chris, Helena, Benedicte and Jens, Christian, Charlotte (?).

I only needed a moment’s thought to decide. “I think it’s easier not to invite Charlotte for this, but I’d like her to be on the wedding guest list. Does Christian have a girlfriend who should be included?”

My fiancé chuckled. “No, he’s single at the moment. I have the feeling he’ll be pleased to see Kristin again. Hopefully, he is able to make a better impression on her this time, but if not, he may finally get over his crush on her.”

I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help smiling too at the thought of Father’s reaction if his darling daughter had a fling with a sexy Dane. I’d seen a photo of Christian on Jacob’s Facebook page, and his best friend was certainly good looking in the typical Scandinavian way. Of course, in my opinion he was nowhere near as attractive as my boyfriend, but then again no one was.

I tried to keep my mind on the subject. “I have no opinion about the date or anything else, as long as it’s informal. Can we…,” I hesitated, and Benedicte gave me an encouraging smile. “Can we make it sort of like a reception instead of sitting down to a formal dinner? Maybe in the afternoon in your garden, if the weather is nice?” I knew I would be extremely uncomfortable if we were stuck at the end of the table as the center of attention for a whole meal. If we had it outside, we could escape more easily.

“Certainly, dear, I think it’s a brilliant idea. We can go down to the beach too, and you young people can even have a swim, if it’s hot. We’ll get different kinds of finger foods, fruit and cakes. It’ll be easy to arrange and very little work to tidy up afterwards.” Jens looked pleased when his wife agreed to my wishes and even focused on making matters easy to organize. He suggested champagne and soft drinks and volunteered to buy those.

I decided there and then that my future in-laws were simply the best. I smiled and hoped they could see my gratitude.

“Thank you, Benedicte and Jens.” They looked delighted at my use of their first names, which I’d avoided before. I went on, “Other than that, I have no opinion about the arrangement. I don’t know if I prefer to have it as soon as possible or wait as long as possible. Whichever fits with everyone’s plans, I guess.”

Jacob squeezed my shoulder. “So you’re not sure if you want to get it over with – or postpone the dreaded moment for as long as possible?” Benedicte and Jens laughed at his teasing, and Jens took up their banter.

“Better get a ring on him soon, Jacob. You don’t want him to get cold feet or a better offer!”

I elbowed my fiancé and sent my future father-in-law a stern look. “Cut it out, you two. Jacob and I are a couple, rings or not.” But then I recalled what would happen once I let him put a ring on my finger, and a small blush rose in my face. Thank God, Jacob had sorted me out before we left, or I might have thrown an embarrassing boner in front of his parents. But the thought prompted my next question.

“Ehm, you’re not expecting us to exchange rings at the party, are you? Sort of doing a commitment thing in front of everyone?” I wanted those rings on the moment we picked them up.

Benedicte looked so crestfallen, I rushed to reassure her. “Oh, I guess we could, if you and my mom were counting on it.” Somehow I knew Mom would get the same disappointed expression if we cheated her of the ceremony, even if it was less elaborate than a wedding.

I turned to look at Jacob, and from the twinkle in his eyes he knew exactly what I was thinking. Naturally, he chose the option which would please our moms and frustrate me the most.

“I’m fine with exchanging rings at the party, and I think we should wait till Friday or Saturday next week, depending on the weather forecast. We can meet up with Christian before then, so he gets the chance to chat to Kristin. In any case, depending on the rings we buy, they may not be ready before Thursday anyway. Especially if we want our names engraved.” Put like that, it made sense.

His mom smiled and nodded. “This suits me fine. I’ll talk to Isa when she arrives and for now I think we should go for Saturday afternoon. I know Kristin leaves early Sunday morning, but what about Evan and Chris?”

“They return home on Sunday too, but in the afternoon. I have to leave the same day.” I said.

Benedicte seemed to detect how upset the idea made me. “Now don’t fret about the exact date, Russell. I’ve talked to a colleague of mine, and the verdict is that a couple days aren’t going to make a difference, as long as you have a valid airfare ticket and real plans to leave the country for the required six months.”

Her husband frowned a bit and said, “Still, it’s better, if you avoid the issue. You never know how the policeman in the passport control reacts, if he sees you have overstayed. And why not go when your twin leaves? It’s not that we want to get rid of you, Russell – we want you to be able to return without problems. And going against the visa rules can get you banned for three to five years.”

My boyfriend nodded. “We’ll have to start looking at airfares and times. Hopefully, we’ll be able to get a flight to Singapore that day. I want to visit Peter and Paul, if that’s OK with you, Russell?”

“Of course it is. I’d love to meet the other twins in our family. Evan is going to be utterly envious. I guess we may have been told about them at some point, but I honestly can’t remember.” I wondered why my mom hadn’t talked about her father’s twin brothers, but I suppose there hadn’t been much point, since we’d never met them.

Benedicte picked up on what Jacob had said about the rings. “Did you find any rings you liked?”

We nodded, but I let Jacob explain. “There were several we liked, but the best ones were too expensive, and in any case we had different favorites. Russell liked a plain titanium band, but I wanted white gold rings with diamonds and green sapphires to match his eyes.” He shrugged. “We’ll work it out, and we have looked at other rings as well. We’ll probably go back tomorrow and try them on to see which are the most comfortable.”

Oh. I hadn’t realized this was why Jacob wanted those ridiculously expensive but admittedly very beautiful rings. The inset gems were small and not at all flashy and the overall impression was tasteful as well as unique. In fact, the jeweler had told us the rings were part of a design experiment, and so far they had sold the diamond / ruby and the diamond / blue sapphire combinations, so this was the last set. In fact, my main objection apart from the price had been his explanation.

He had said: “The designer originally meant them for a hetero couple, which is why there is a larger-than-normal size difference, compared to most of the rings for same-sex couples. But so far we haven’t had any straight guys ready to wear them. The other two sets were bought by couples like you, who happened to have fairly different hand sizes.” He placed the rings over the circles representing the right hands of Jacob and me. “In this case, we might have to resize the smaller ring a bit upwards, depending on how tight a fit you can tolerate, but otherwise they are perfect.”

For some reason I had resented the idea of wearing a ring meant for a woman, as well as the whole concept of the rings being too gay for straight guys. But right now this objection seemed silly. However, Jacob’s parents had already offered to throw an engagement party and pay for our ‘honeymoon’, even if they knew my mom would probably insist on paying them back. No way could I ask them to sponsor our rings too.

“Jacob, I loved the diamond and sapphire rings, but the price was exorbitant. Or maybe that’s the wrong word, since they’re probably worth every cent. But as I know you’ll be paying for both of them, I think we should get some of the plain white gold rings.” I could see he wanted to object, but before he spoke, Benedicte got up and came over to sit next to me.

She took my hand and made me look at her, so I knew she was serious. “Listen to me, Russell. I know we’re not rich the way your parents are, but we’re quite well off, and Jacob is our only child. Please don’t worry about who is paying for what. Now, if you were buying engagement rings, which would be exchanged for new wedding rings in six months’ time, it would be different. But you’re talking about rings which are meant to be wedding rings too, aren’t you?”

I nodded and she continued, “So the real price of those rings is the money you pay divided by the years those rings are worn. This is something my best friend told me years ago, when she taught me how to develop a suitable wardrobe. Clothes which are worn on a daily basis should be the best quality and the most expensive you can afford. A dress worn only once or twice a year should cost as little as possible. For you, that would equal buying expensive jeans and T-shirts or shirts, but avoid spending too much money on a suit or a tux.”

I smiled and nodded again to show I understood her meaning. Jacob’s mom included both of us in her gaze for the next part. “If you genuinely prefer another ring, Russell, then of course you and Jacob need to find a compromise. But please do not let costs or any other considerations sway you from choosing the symbol of your union, since you’ll hopefully be wearing them for the rest of your lives.”

Benedicte turned her head slightly to look at Jens, her expression mostly amused, but also wistful.

“We have learnt from experience that whenever we made choices which were not optimal, cutting corners as it were, we always ended up regretting the decision.” He grinned at her, and I knew they were sharing personal memories just from a look, and from knowing each other so well. I hoped Jacob and I could achieve this same understanding over the years.

Jacob decided to get me off the hook. “Tak mor, vi har forstået[7]. We get the point, and actually the funds Isa will transfer to my account are more than sufficient to pay for both rings.”

I turned to him in surprise, and he grinned at me. “I let slip we were going shopping today, and your mum seems adamant that nothing but the best is good enough for you. She sent me a text while you were showering and she insists on sponsoring our rings, since my parents are paying for the engagement party.”

Oh. Well, Mom has always been a ‘quality before quantity’ person. She never flaunts her wealth by buying lots of clothes or shoes or household items. But she takes care to buy high quality stuff, and since she has impeccable taste, my parents’ home was the envy of many of their acquaintances. I know this was one reason my father often hosted dinner parties for important business partners at home rather than in a fancy restaurant. He was proud of Mom being the perfect hostess, and I know she enjoyed planning and socializing, so they suited each other in this respect.

Kristin and Evan had usually enjoyed those dinner parties, but I… A gentle tap of my nose brought me back to the present, and I bit my lip when I realized everyone was looking at me expectantly. Did they ask me something? My pleading look at Jacob had him sigh, but since he kept smiling, and even winked at me, I knew it was OK.

“We’ll go back and try our favorite rings on tomorrow, before we meet Evan and Chris at the airport. We can even ask him to show us a broader selection, now that we’re not so restrained by money. But we’re not getting rings just because they’re expensive, they have to feel right. I’m sure we’ll be able to find just the right symbol of our love.”

Once again my fiancé had expressed my feelings exactly, and I gave him a huge smile and nodded eagerly. God, I loved him so much, and I wanted to show him with more than kisses and words.

Maybe my eyes told him how I felt, because Jacob ended the evening by asking his mom to drive us to the Metro station. She’d only had one beer, while Jens had two, so he volunteered to finish clearing up while she drove us all the way home. We did voice a token protest, but it was nice to be chauffeured, and Benedicte said it wasn’t that much difference once she was out driving anyway. I sat in the back and since I kept my eyes closed and didn’t participate in the conversation, Jacob and his mom soon switched to Danish.

The incomprehensible chatting was soothing in a way, but I was reminded of how Evan and I had been rather annoyed around age seven, when we realized Mom had deliberately omitted teaching us her mother tongue. At the time, we thought it would be cool to have a secret language in school, but the first time we visited Denmark we regretted her choice once more and Evan had confronted her again.

“Mom, why didn’t you teach us Danish when we were kids? I know you taught Kristin some, but she forgot most of it, because you didn’t keep it up. If you had taught us too, we could have helped each other. And it would be so cool now we’re in Denmark. Plus mormor doesn’t really speak much English.” Mormor was our mom’s mom and we could hardly communicate with her, because we didn’t speak her language. Luckily almost everyone else spoke English, except for those cousins who were too young to be taught it in school yet.

Our mom sighed, “Well, there are moments I regret it too, but it seemed like the right decision at the time. With Kristin it was natural to talk to her in Danish when we were alone, but of course we always spoke English otherwise. Your father disliked when he couldn’t understand what she was saying, and so did your grandparents. When you came along, Kirstin had just begun preschool, and she was expanding her vocabulary rapidly. So I chose to focus on English since my children needed to be fluent in this. After all, Denmark and Danish were hardly likely to be important in your life.”

Even when my twin pressed her, she refused to elaborate much, but we got the distinct feeling, she had chosen the easy way out in the face of Father’s disapproval. I tried to imagine his reaction to Evan and I being able to say things he didn’t understand – beyond the twin speak we had shared as young kids – and it wasn’t pretty. The few times we tried to whisper in secret in his presence, we were immediately told to “speak up! An honest man has nothing to hide and no need to whisper like a sneak.” Perhaps Mom hadn’t been as much of a coward as we had thought back then, but I still resented her decision.

Maybe I could ask Jacob to teach me Danish. I already knew the two most important phrases: ‘Jeg elsker dig’ meant I love you. And ‘tak for mad[8]’ were the polite and obligatory words said after a meal, to show appreciation for the nice food and the time spent planning and preparing it. That phrase we had all learnt as kids; and even my father approved of this example of Danish manners and made sure to say them to Mom after every meal. We even said ‘tak for mad’ at business dinners, and he proudly explained if visitors enquired.

I contemplated this and tried to recall more of my previous visit to Denmark as we rode back to Jacob’s apartment. It occurred to me how it was quite strange my mom and her twin uncles (Benedicte’s brothers) so rarely went back to visit their family. Although, if the twins were gay, it certainly made sense, especially considering the things said about Karl. I’d never questioned the lack of family closeness on both sides of my family, since I’d never known any different.

But Kathrine had clearly been surprised by the way I spoke about my family when we talked on the beach. She did admit to coming from a close-knit family, the opposite extreme, and suggested that perhaps she was the outlier in this regard. She had cousins and other relatives living in at least two other European countries, and told me they visited every two or three years. Both her great-grandmother and grandmother were matriarchs behind the scenes who kept track and gossiped benignly to keep everyone updated.

Jacob’s dad was close to his only sister, and he’d mentioned running around in the forest as a child with a huge bunch of cousins. Apparently, his father was a forester too and the oldest of five or six siblings and his wife (Jacob’s farmor) was the only girl amongst four brothers. Since Jacob’s grandparents lived in a huge property belonging to the forest district managed by his granddad, the whole family on both sides used to congregate there. However, his farfar[9] retired when Jacob was six years old, so he’d mostly visited them by himself in their small house in the village of Ebeltoft.

Nonetheless, the impression of family unity being important remained. Somehow I had the feeling Evan and I responded positively to this five years ago, since we’d always talked about how we wanted our twin bond to translate into our future families being close too. Kristin had been included, on the rare occasions we talked of such matters in recent years, and she’d been as enthusiastic as us. Was this another influence of the Danish vacation I’d managed to suppress most memories of?

Suddenly I yearned for my twin, and for my sister and mother too. I needed to ground myself, and Evan would be able to supply most of the answers I was seeking. I wanted to sit down with him and Kristin and look at the sketchbook Jacob had and rebuild my memory of our first Danish vacation. My mind skirted around the thought of this only being the beginning of a longer journey through understanding the past four years; part of rebuilding myself and deciding what was important to me. It also occurred to me that my photo album from home was lying in my suitcase, and it could be useful for re-bonding with my twin.

Maybe showing it to Jacob would also be a good idea, and Chris too if he hadn’t seen Evan’s version. Hmm, I’d better check for embarrassing photos first. Just as I got to this part in my random stream of thoughts, we arrived. I said good night and thank you to Benedicte, who insisted on getting out of the car and hugging me as well as Jacob. She even kissed me on the cheek and whispered “I’m so happy you’re part of the family, Russell.” Did Jacob inherit his propensity for physical and verbal reassurance of affection together with her vivid blue eye color?

As we walked up the stair to his apartment, I asked Jacob what they had discussed in the car. It was meant as casual talk, so I wasn’t prepared for the sidelong glance and Jacob’s hesitation before he replied.

“Well, mostly I was just catching up on various items. But there was one thing which I need to talk to you about…”

I tried to keep my voice calm, “OK, so what is it?”

He unlocked the door to the apartment and busied himself with turning on the lights. We left our shoes by the front door and he relocked it, before we made our way to the living room. He sat down on the sofa and pulled me into his lap. His scent filled my nostrils as I took a deep breath and did my best to relax.

“Now, please don’t feel guilty, Russell, but I missed my two exams in June, because our camping trip lasted a lot longer than planned. Your mum doesn’t know either, and it was completely my choice.” Surprised, I tried to lift my head from his chest to look at him, but he held me tight.

“Fortunately, the re-exam[10] for the main course is on Tuesday morning, which gives me the chance to take it. The other exam is online a week from Wednesday, because it’s via e-learning and has participants from all over the world. I can log in from Singapore and complete the one hour test without any problems.” Jacob sounded confident and in control, as always, but then the hesitation came back.

“However, I’ll have to review for my exam on Tuesday. That means I won’t be able to spend much time with you and your family over the weekend, or on Monday. Will you be OK with this, Russell?” He let me push away so he could see my face; his anxious blue eyes were searching for the answer.

I almost laughed. Was this all? We’d been together almost non-stop for twenty-four hours a day for nearly three months, and Jacob worried I’d feel abandoned if he took some time for himself. Well, at least I could reassure him for once.

“I think it’ll work out fine, Jacob. I want to spend time with Evan on my own, and I have the feeling Mom will demand my attention for quite a bit too. It would be nice if you have dinner with us every night, though. And I hope we can still meet Evan and Chris at the airport together?” I didn’t say anything about buying our rings, since I knew Jacob would never abandon this plan.

A small squeak left my mouth as I was hugged hard. Jacob buried his face in my hair and spoke in my ear. “I’d prefer to be with you, Russell, and we’re definitely spending our evenings together, as well as every night. But I’m glad Evan will be there to distract you, and once my exam is over, I promise I’ll take you and Evan and Chris on a canal tour and anything else you want.” Oh, my boyfriend was rather cute when he was clingy, and it was quite nice to be the one to soothe him.

“Even if my family wasn’t here, I’d still want you to focus on your exam, Jacob. I’m used to keeping myself entertained, and you have a whole bookcase with SciFi and fantasy novels. In any case, we’ll have to get used to being apart during the day at some point, if I’m going to Art College, while you work.” My joke fell a bit flat, when I was the only one to laugh.

Jacob mumbled something indistinct, and I elbowed him gently. “What was that? I couldn’t hear.”

He didn’t reply but his mouth started nibbling on my earlobe. His hand caressed my back, while the other dropped to my thigh and squeezed. I could feel something swell against my backside, and my breath got short. Soon Jacob’s warm hand was under my T-shirt and roaming all over my bare skin in the way I’d come to love. It was so intimate and soothing at the same time, I could never get enough of his touch. His fingers were drawing tiny circles on my thigh, slowly moving upwards, and my jeans were getting uncomfortably tight.

When I moaned quietly, Jacob stopped. “Let’s get ready for bed, Russell.” I jumped from his lap and almost ran to the bathroom, followed by the delighted laugh of my lover. Well, I didn’t care if he realized I was eager. But I wondered whether he knew I was more desperate to suck him than the other way round. I’d only blown him that one time in the hotel, and seeing him naked twice today without having the chance to taste him had slowly driven me insane with desire.

I managed to brush my teeth in record time, took a leak and washed myself and my hands. I’d already taken my jeans and socks off, but I decided to keep my T-shirt and my new bikini briefs on. When I came out of the bathroom Jacob was waiting for his turn. He smiled at me, but didn’t say anything. I went into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, suddenly nervous. We’d slept together in his bed, but never had sex here. Had Jacob been with other guys in this bed? How many sex partners had my boyfriend had before me? Was I any good compared to them?

Luckily, Jacob came into the room before I could work myself into a fit of doubt. He was barefooted and shirtless, but still wearing his jeans. I admired him as he walked towards me. I knew by now that a lean but muscular torso and arms were a major turn on for me, and Jacob fulfilled every wish with his tanned chest and its patch of blond hair, defined abs, broad shoulders and strong arms. His handsome face with the compelling blue eyes increased the attraction and when he unbuttoned his jeans, I almost drooled.

By now he was standing between my legs. I had automatically spread them to accommodate him, and his crotch was right in front of my face. Glancing up I saw his gaze was focused on my mouth as he unzipped. His erect cock jumped out at me, and I realized he’d left his underwear behind in the bathroom. His hand reached out to caress my cheek and my hair, before his fingers spread over the back of my head and braced me. The right hand brought the glistening tip of his manhood to my lips, which parted willingly.

I licked and kissed and opened up, and Jacob carefully fed me his hot, tasty hard-on. Not all of it, and just before I might have gagged, he drew back and paused. The head of his cock was still in my mouth and I closed my lips around the shaft and suckled joyfully. My own dick was bursting out of my briefs and I wanted to fondle myself. But I also wanted to touch Jacob, and it was this desire that won out. My left hand crept up to cup his balls, and my right one explored his abs and sneaked up to tease his nipples.

A husky moan was the response and I relished the intense lust shining from my boyfriend’s eyes. “Soooo hot. You don’t know what seeing your sexy mouth on my cock does to me!” I pushed forward taking as much of his thick manhood as possible, then went back slowly using my tongue and lips to massage every inch. “Fuck! That feels so good, love.” His legs were tense against my inner thighs and the hand in my hair gripped hard for a moment before going back to gentle caresses. I loved the fact I could cause this reaction.

I lost track of time as I kept pleasuring my man. Jacob controlled the speed and depth as he carefully fucked my mouth, making the experience a wonderful combination of giving in to his wants and doing everything I desired to the most exciting part of his handsome body. At the end I felt like I was worshiping this young Norse god with my hands, mouth, eyes and the sounds of pleasure from both of us. My reward came almost too soon, as Jacob grunted a warning moments before his cock reached maximum hardness and size and started unloading. The nipple my fingers were pinching gently stiffened noticeably and his balls tried to climb upwards.

His hand stroked the shaft and my mouth overflowed with his cream as the head pulsed against my tongue. Ignoring the taste, I swallowed the gift, fighting to keep my gaze on his face, so I could witness his ecstasy. Jacob had closed his eyes, tilting his head back, but I could still enjoy his blissful expression as he came. Towards the end of his orgasm, he looked down at me again, and his deep husky voice filled my ears while the last spurts filled my mouth. “Thank you, Russ… love you… want you… always…”

Jacob stepped back, and I nearly whimpered with loss as his cock left my lips. Before I could do anything, he’d gripped my T-shirt and pulled it over my head. His strong hands caught me under my arms and half-pushed, half-lifted me backwards to lie on the bed. He didn’t even bother to remove my briefs, just yanked them down in front and engulfed my aching dick. I was so turned on by giving him a blowjob that the shock of a warm moist massage undid me. With a scream and a thrust of my hips I exploded, catching my lover by surprise.

My unexpected orgasm had Jacob sputtering, but as I emptied my balls, he did his best to keep going during the short but intense spurting. I still had half a mouthful of his juices, when Jacob let go of my manhood and lunged up to kiss me. This time I didn’t refuse to taste myself, and the remnants of both our loads mixed as we French-kissed for a long time. I can’t say I enjoyed the combination, but neither did it repulse me. Maybe liking cum was sort of an acquired taste? Similar to the way Jacob had assured me you could get used to drinking beer and wine.

In any case, I loved the feeling of his warm body on top of mine, even if was only the upper half. I wanted to lie fully beneath him, feeling his weight as he took me. I couldn’t wait for the moment he made love to me, and I almost decided to ask Jacob about it. But I was still too shy, and I didn’t want to seem impatient or dissatisfied with our sex life so far. Maybe I could ask Evan how long it took for him and Chris to go all the way. Or I could just let Jacob be in charge and seduce me, decide the moment I would be his, and he would be mine.