The Orchestra - Sinfónia Lifsins - 14. Fucking Christmas

“Siggi, your bath is ready.”

Four weeks of hell and no indication it would end soon. The bastard tried not to look like he thought I was a piece of glass about to be broken into thousands of pieces as he helped me sit, but as usual he failed miserably. “Tell me when I can get out. If you take too long I’ll die of boredom.”

“As you wish, my lord.” The bastard put on that stupid grin of his and bowed. “Anything else you want?”

“Yes. Your dick up my ass again.”

“That’s not happening for a while. It would defeat the purpose of all those baths. And the laxatives.”

“Thank you for reminding me of them too.” And for sounding like the stupid doctor who insisted on that annoying medicine.

“Well, at least this should make you think twice about getting hurt in the ass again. If I were in your place, I would at least enjoy the warm baths.” For someone who claimed to have been traumatised, the bastard was grinning far too much.

“Then come trade places with me.”

“Can’t do that. It’s your ass that’s all fucked up and needs to heal all on its own, and meanwhile you can’t even have sex…”

“We fucked yesterday.”

“I wouldn’t call that ‘fuck’. You weren’t born to top.”

“Too bad for you, then.” Though obviously not, he was still grinning and being generally annoying.

“Not really, actually. When Gísli gave up trying to keep up with me last week I had a great time with the city boys in the public toilets. I had forgotten how fun wild sex was.”

“Then leave me alone and get rid of that boner. I can see it from here.” It showed even though he was wearing loose cotton trousers.

“Sorry, not happening. I’m not supposed to leave you alone anymore.” Finally that stupid grin disappeared. Hopefully his erection would follow.

“Call someone else, then. Is Arnar still here?”

“He’s staying for dinner. His wife was feeling charitable.”

“You know what to do, then.”

“Fine.” The bastard shouted for Arnar from the door loud enough to alert any Arnars passing within half a kilometre radius from the house. “I’ll see you at dinner.” The bastard winked, waved and left like he was a stupid flamboyant school girl, skipping noisily and landing loudly on our bed. I would not be surprised if the neighbours complained of the noise he was making at ten pm. Though after the dramatic spectacle provided by the ambulance and paramedics, they were probably too scared to even get past our front gates.

“You decided to stay, then.”

“Yes. It’s a special day for you, isn’t it? You deserve a little party.” Arnar sat on the toilet seat, smiling at me like I should share his happiness.

“There will be no happy days as long as I need those stupid baths.”

“Well, the doctor said you should heal in six weeks, there aren’t that many left…”

“Just about half of what I already went through.”

“Exactly. You are two thirds of the way now. Cheer up.” He was still smiling.

“You’re one to say.” I looked pointedly at his bandaged arm.

“Oh, I feel very cheerful right now.” Arnar smiled to prove his point. “You’re recovering as well as can be expected, the counsellor is considering taking you off suicide watch, Dmitri is willing to have sex with you again… things are definitely looking up.”

“How much longer until you convince that bitch that I won’t try to kill myself again? I hate her.”

“She’s been very helpful, you shouldn’t say that.”

“Every time I go there I end up either not talking at all or talking about my stupid father. I would rather just stay with you.”

“Would you talk to me about your father, then?” I hated when he looked at me like that; like he was trying to force the truth out of my mouth even if I tried to hide it up my ass.

As if I could lie to him.

“What do you want to hear? About that time he broke my wrists so I couldn’t play anymore? Or the time he told my entire classroom my mother was a bitch whothat left him when I became too much trouble to take care of? Take your pick; I need to stay here for twenty minutes anyway…”

“I don’t think now is the best time to talk about it, though you are more than welcome to bring it up again when you are not so angry with the world.” Arnar, always the diplomat. “Remember what I said before; if you are so angry all the time, it’ll be harder for the others to believe you’re getting better.”

“They still treat me like I’m made of glass.” Particularly the bastard. He was the one who needed therapy, not me. And Gísli. “Karen said Gísli has been going over to her bedroom almost every night because of nightmares involving blood. I think they should be concerned about him instead.”

“Gísli wasn’t the one who tried to die by fucking.” I had to laugh at that. The bastard would love to ‘die by fucking’ too, though of a very different kind. “Or who raped his best friend to do it.”

“I told you that throwing my horrible past in my face isn’t going to make me feel any better.” Arnar had been using the same tactic for at last two weeks now. It was time he realised its ineffectiveness.

“It made Dmitri want to have sex with you again,” Arnar argued, like this small coincidence could serve as the basis of his entire thesis.

“It was because he had already fucked all the sexual energy out of Gísli and all other gay and bisexual men in Reykjavík. You forcing me to apologise to him had nothing to do with it.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.” We faced each other for a long time, like our lives somehow depended on who turned away last. Then we got tired of this silly game, like any rational adult would, and the monotony of my current situation came back full force. “How much longer?”

“Ten minutes.”

“Kill me.”

“This doesn’t exactly help your attempts at convincing me you’re no longer suicidal, you know?”

“You’re already convinced.”

“That is true. Though you still need to convince the others.”

“I’m listening if you have a plan.” Like he would have one.

“The party on Saturday.” Fuck. He did. “If Gunni is invited too, it’s your chance to prove you can be in the same space as him without freaking out. And if you manage to treat Gunni with any decency, you might make them so surprised they might actually believe you are past your anger issues.”

“I’m not past my anger issues. I still hate the kid.”

“You have no objective reason to.” Arnar, always the diplomat. He should not be so accepting of the kid who took his job. “So if your friends see that you are being more rational about your manners, it might have more of an effect on them than me or the counsellor telling them you are ok.”

“You really think this could work or are you just trying to get me to like the replacement?”

“I don’t do lies, Siggi. You should know that.” He sounded vaguely offended. It was his fault for suggesting such a stupid plan.

“I trust you more than anyone else, but your plan sounds like something Dmitri would come up with.”

“That is true, I suppose,” he shrugged, grinning far too much like the bastard. “But it’s still my plan. Do you think you can rise up to the challenge?”

“Of being civil to the kid for a night? I want some kind of prize afterwards.”

“If you do it right Dmitri will probably feel tempted to help you with it,” Arnar winked. He knew more than what legally should be allowed about the way the bastard and I worked.

“Whatever. I’ll think about it.”

“Good. It’s about time you get out too. See how productive we managed to be?”

“I wouldn’t call it that, but whatever.”

“Let’s have dinner now. I think they’re making your favourite.”

“I don’t remember having a favourite.”

“Dmitri said you liked gluten free pasta with chicken and lettuce. He said you eat it at least twice a week.”

“Yeah, because there aren’t many options of meals for me out there, so I have to eat the same thing over and over again until I die.” My towel still had blood stains from my first bath. Someone should have washed it by now. “Or until they create hypoallergenic meals for those with overly-sensitive immune systems.”

“We can always hope.”

“Hope won’t take you very far.” At least it was not taking me. Arnar tried to argue more, but he was not the one living with insane allergies for the last nineteen and half years; nothing he said could defeat real life experience.

(...)

“Gunni is almost late; I wonder if he will show up…” The bastard could at least not use my leg as his anxiety-relieving device. His hand moved in a way that made it obvious what he would rather be touching.

“Let’s give him a couple more minutes. While we wait, maybe Siggi and I could go have a word with the chef…”

“Go on your own, Karen. You know what to ask for. I can’t be bothered.”

“Aw, you’re exhausted!” The bastard finally realised giving my leg a handjob was not getting him anywhere and jumped on my neck instead. “I knew all that sulking in the shower would have an effect!”

“I’m not exhausted. I just don’t want to deal with people who have the power to kill me and not even mean it.”

“I’m going with you, Karen.” Gísli got up and walked briskly towards the kitchen. Karen followed suit, but not before sending me her attempt at a pissed off look because of my casual statement of a true fact that nowadays made everyone annoyingly jumpy. Even the bastard stopped his kissing and biting long enough for it to qualify as a dramatic pause.

“And now, because it’s always how this kind of things works, Gunni will make his triumphal entrance in three… two… one…” Everyone sitting at the table looked at the entrance right on cue, as if they really expected the bastard to have that kind of psychic power. Or, as if they believed real life worked just like a dramatic novel. Either way it did not work. “Half…” The bastard insisted. Everyone else laughed like this was the best thing that had ever happened to their otherwise completely boring lives. “A quarter…”

“Stop. This is stupid.”

“One-eighth…” Everyone was still laughing. Of course the bastard would carry on. To ridiculous lengths. “One-sixteenth… One-third-two-th” His audience roared at his lack of grammar. These people were so easily entertained it was making me nauseous. It was almost as if he was trying to make me hope the kid would arrive soon. “One-sixty-fourth… Oh, yeah! I knew it!”

The bastard ran to the front as soon as he saw the kid. By the time they got to our table the kid had already put on his tomato-face and the bastard was acting like his whole life’s ambition had just been accomplished.

“Gunni, come sit next to me!” The bastard insisted as soon as the basic greetings were over. The kid looked at me like he needed my permission to move.

“What are you looking at me for? He is free to choose who he wants by his side.”

“Yay, I can have the two sexiest people in the restaurant sitting all around me! My life is perfect! Come, Gunni, I’ll be your protective shield against Siggi’s arseholeness!”

“Oh, Gunni, it’s so good to see you!”

“Hi, Karen, hi, Gísli. Where have you been?” She kissed the kid on the cheek. Three times. Like she could not get enough of him.

“We popped over to the kitchen to let the chef know Siggi will need some different stuff.”

“They want to make sure I don’t die tonight, at least not against my will.” I said it only to see the look of fear in their faces. If I had to follow Arnar’s plan and be nice to the kid for the rest of the night, I deserved at least one moment of fun.

“Ignore Siggi, he’s turned somewhat sadistic over the last couple of days,” the bastard cut in, making the kid sit very close to him on the couch-table thing they had arranged for us. “You just stick with me for the night and I swear nothing bad will happen to you.”

“Unless he decides to fuck you in the toilet.”

“I wasn’t planning to do that. At least not with Gunni.” The kid turned into a tomato again. The bastard was winking at him. I would not be surprised if his right hand was doing to the kid what his left was doing to me.

“Good. At least we won’t have to subject someone else to that stupid counsellor before the night is over.”

“You talk like I’m traumatising him, but FYI, Gunni has been an enthusiastic participant in everything we do.”

“Yes, I can see his ‘enthusiastic participation’ expressed very clear in that blushing face of his. Did I mention he looks like a tomato? Did I mention I’m allergic to tomatoes?”

“Are you going to list the full list of your allergies to Gunni now? Is that your idea of dinner conversation?”

“Do you have any better ideas?”

“I do, actually…” No surprises there, Sherlock. It was not the first time your hand had been around my belt that night. You could at least have some originality.

“Er…”

“Sorry, Gunni. I’m a bit overwhelmed by all the hotness surrounding me.” The bastard turned to the kid, but his hand did not follow. His other hand was definitely doing something similar. “But I’m doing my best to make sure neither of you are neglected tonight.”

“I…”

“He’ll have a heart attack if he keeps blushing like that.”

“Don’t listen to Siggi, he’s been silly.” If every time I was being ‘silly’ the bastard answered by squeezing my crotch, I would willingly be ‘silly’ for the rest of the night. “Though if you want some space to breathe before the food comes, Siggi and I can disappear for a bit.”

“Well, I…”

“Yes, why don’t you go out for a bit and let Gunni talk to the rest of us?” Karen had that smile and that shine in her eyes that said ‘I-know-you-are-going-for-a-fuck-please-go-and-let-me-imagine-it-happening’.

“If no one objects… come on, Siggi, I think we have some ‘issues’ to sort before our food is ready…”

It would be a lot more work to prevent Dmitri from taking me to the toilet than to just follow him. And I would at least get a blowjob. And some time away from the kid. It could have been worse.

“Pants off! I want your dick!”

“I want yours too.”

“Later, I’m more desperate.”

“Fine.” The toilet was one of those places that had only a single stall separated from the urinals. That stall had a cabinet so conveniently located for holding onto while being sucked off that it would be disappointing if it was not the reason it was there in the first place.

“Quiet, Siggi, this is a public toilet.”

“Say that again when your whole dick is in someone else’s mouth.”

“I would, if you could take my whole dick to begin with.”

“Finish me off and we’ll see.”

“I have no problems with that.” He made me come all over his glasses on purpose. He had a thing for washing them in the public area while grinning suspiciously at any new person who came in. “Now come, switch places and show me your sucking prowess.”

“Brace yourself. You might not be able to handle it.”

“If I do, I’m asking Gunni out.”

“You just made me a lot less inclined to swallow your dick.”

“Well, I’m assuming that you can swallow my dick in the first place. Which you had never quite managed in the past. And then I’m assuming I’ll survive what you promised will be the best blowjob ever. So there, there’s plenty of room for me to fail.”

“And knowing your determination, there’s plenty of room for you to succeed.”

“We’ll just have to see how it turns out then.”

“Whatever.” His oversized dick was glaring at me already, fighting its way through its owner’s very loose underwear and open jeans.

“You’re only halfway through…”

“I’m just getting started.” And his hands were all over my hair soon after. And his jumper became a makeshift gag. And it was a remarkably satisfying feeling to hold his trembling legs as I finally fulfilled my part of the deal.

“Fuck, it’s too good!” It defeated the point of having a gag if you spat it out at the first opportunity. “Ah… fuck… FUCK!”

“Can’t handle it?”

“Oh, I sure as hell can. Carry on, I’m far too close to making you swallow my seeds for you to stop now.”

“Cut the dirty talk. I prefer it when you just scream.”

“Fine by me.” Scream he did for the next thirty seconds before I felt his stuff exploding down my throat. At least I would not have to do any cleaning up.

“How many people you think you managed to scare away by now?”

“I don’t know. Let’s find out!” His usual routine of cleaning his glasses with an air of ‘I-just-got-fucked-envy-me-or-follow-me-back-in-or-both’ made three young guys run away screaming for mummy and one older gentleman eyed him with a predator’s lust. The bastard waved to him, showed off his dick, and gave him his number.

“You done already? They should be eating the starters by now.”

“Hold on, just one last thing.” The bastard jumped on me so he could kiss me full on the lips and grab every part of me within reach. “You know I was engaged to the last person who managed to swallow my whole dick, right?”

“Are you trying to imply anything?”

“Not really. Just that you better hope Gunni is crappy at it.”

“Things are escalating far too quickly between you.”

“Nah, he’s just too cute and sexy. And he has a nice personality, believe it or not.”

“I don’t think I do.”

“Your loss.” His smiled morphed into his trademark evil, sexy grin. He took me by my hips and we finally left the toilet. “By the way, since I survived the sucking, I believe I have something I have to do now…”

“I’m actually feeling sorry for the kid. What have you done to me?”

“Well, you swallowed my whole load; it’s probably messing with you already,” the bastard teased.

“It was a rhetorical question. But thanks for reminding me that thousands of halves of your DNA are now swimming in my stomach.”

“You’re welcome. Now, I believe Gunni is waiting for me…” Not really. At least if the kid had any sense of danger.

He was just a kid, though. He probably did not have any.